#Swallow-tailed Hummingbird | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hemlock-dreams · 2 months ago

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Horny brain! Activate!

Just wanted to write a scene of Spidey finally getting to indulge his colossal oral fixation. Wade volunteers as tribute! So here: 4k words of pure filth.

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Wade's back hits the wall. He's out of breath, body thrumming from the adrenaline, pulse a hummingbird beat against his chest.

Spiderman has him caged against the rooftop access, an inky blot in the darkness, an electric shadow pressed up against Wade. Their masks are halfway up, and Spidey's tongue is halfway down Wade's throat.

Spidey drops his head to the crook of Wade's neck, leaving a series of sucking kisses that make Wade ache in the suit. "I win," he says, smug as shit, but Wade can't fault him for it.

It was a good fucking chase and an even better fucking fight. He just wishes he could keep the bruises.

"Yeah, you did," Wade pants, grinding against Spidey's dense body. It's amazing, a perfect end to the night, except Wade's not ready for it to be over. "Where I come from, winners get a prize." He says, hoping it doesn't come out too desperate. Or maybe just the right amount of desperate.

Who the winner is in this situation is really up for interpretation, but Wade wants to think they can both get what they want.

Clearly, they're on the same wavelength because Spidey grabs the tail end of the thought and runs with it. "I've got some ideas…"

The dark, masculine purr of Spidey's voice makes Wade want to lick into his mouth, so he does, groaning when Spidey lets him have it. It feels so unbelievably good to let himself want without compunction, to take what's on offer without having to break off pieces of himself to pay for it.

It has the strange side effect of making Wade unusually generous. Borderline pliant—especially when it comes to his favorite spider.

"Oh, yeah?" Wade asks. His vision is already starting to sparkle, body twitching under Spidey's hands from the venom. Wandering hands inevitably end up on Spidey's magnificent ass, squeezing hard, knowing he can take it. "You know what they say. Sharing is caring."

A hand comes up between Wade's legs, palming the erection that's been there ever since Spidey tackled him across a fire escape three blocks ago. He's not gentle, either. Wade pushes up into it, shuddering when the pressure doesn't let up.

Fuck it's good. But he's more interested in what's Spidey's got cooking.

"Here's what's going to happen," Spidey starts casually, cool as a cucumber. Wade's heartbeat picks up immediately. Spidey always has spectacular plans, especially when they involve Wade. "I'm going to get on my knees, and you're going to fuck my mouth. My prize, is going to be swallowing you down— as many times as you can take it."

The words hit Wade like a nuclear fucking blast, evaporating all the air in his lungs. He doesn't even pretend to think about it; just shoves his hands between their bodies and starts yanking at his suit like it's offended the honor of his house and name.

“I haven’t done this before,” Spidey’s voice is thick with anticipation, and the way he watches Wade unbuckle his suit, licking his lips like there’s a five-course meal waiting in Wade’s pants makes his hands shake. “But I’ve thought about it. A lot.”

His mouth brushes under the edge of Wade’s mask as he confesses, licking the seam of the merc’s lips before continuing down his chin.

“Tell me,” Wade grunts, fingers clumsy as he tries to get his fucking zipper to cooperate- difficult when Spidey’s fangs scrape over the sensitive skin of his jaw, little pinpricks of pain and pixie magic that make his trapped cock scream in the suit.

“Been thinking about how it would feel on my tongue,” Spidey indulges, panting wetly against Wade’s neck. “Thought about holding you down and stretching my throat around you, wanna swallow till I’m sore-”

Wade tears the zipper clean off with an unhinged sound. Spidey huffs a laugh, something about being impatient, but he's far past caring. Fuck patience. Fuck the suit. Everything between him and Spidey’s ravenous fucking mouth needs to fucking disappear.

It takes a few drugged, desperate seconds to summon the coordination, but Wade finally manages to pull out his dick, hissing in relief as he palms the throbbing length of it. He’s already painfully hard from the chase. The thrill of being so thoroughly roughed up has him leaking against the blood-slick leather of his glove where he twists it around the head.

Spidey bats it away with a low, possessive growl that makes Wade forget to register the tired knee-jerk stab of shame about his scarring. All attention is devoted to the sight of Spidey sinking to his knees with inhuman, predatory grace, and the heavy curl of his hands around Wade’s hips, coupled with the sharp glint of his venom-streaked fangs, has his dick jumping like he’s been electrocuted.

Fuck, fuck— Spidey hasn’t even done anything, and Wade's on the verge of begging.

“C’mon, Fangs,” he pleads because shame is on vacation right now, fisting the edges of Spidey’s suit and spreading his legs as far as the leather will allow. He tries to flex his hips, but it’s no use. Spiderman is carved from marble, his hands immovable from where he’s anchored Wade.

There’s barely two inches between Spidey’s mouth and his dick, but it might as well be a fucking mile. He glances up at Wade, and his smile is hungry and a little manic, tongue pink and lurid as he swipes it across his fangs.

“I’ll probably hurt you,” he whispers.

Wade’s brain rattles in his head. “Promise?” He begs, breathless because just the thought of it has him panting like a bitch.

That was apparently the right thing to say because Spidey laughs and gets with the fucking program.

It’s been a while since Wade’s been on his knees for anyone. Even longer since he’s been on the receiving end, but given Spidey’s hungry enthusiasm, Wade expected to be halfway down the man’s throat by now.

But predicting Spiderman is an exercise in futility because instead of going to town or doing any of the normal things people do when presented with a cock, he bypasses it to press his face to the base of the shaft, inhaling through his teeth in heaving gulps.

Oh, that’s right.

It's been mentioned once or twice, how Spidey can taste Wade on the air, that their constant proximity means he can parse the merc’s flavor apart from the rest of the ambient soup of the world.

Wade doesn’t know what that really means, but he doesn’t care because Spidey rolls his face against Wade’s skin, breathing deeply, fingers convulsing around the merc’s hips in fits.

It’s both blisteringly hot and strangely chaste— like Spidey is feeling Wade because he’s pleasing to touch, using his body to satisfy all the little urges he’s had to keep tucked away, just because Wade makes him feel good in some bone-deep way.

The feeling unfurls, rolling outwards till his legs are trembling. His hands scrabble against Spidey because his grip is the only thing keeping Wade from freefalling.

“Jesus, Slick,” Wade pants, trying to swallow around the sudden lump his throat, “You’re gonna fucking kill me, come on.”

“Pot. Kettle.” Spidey breathes, in time with Wade’s spiking pulse, “You’ve been driving me crazy. The way you fucking taste, you have no idea-”

Wade really doesn’t. He’s extremely fuzzy on what keeps Spidey here, but he’s not dumb enough to call his bluff, not when his gorgeous hunter leans back and rolls his tongue over the head of Wade’s weeping dick, groaning like the merc is doing him a favor.

The first real touch of his tongue has both of them shivering, and Spidey suddenly descends on Wade like a man starved. He works his lips over the head of his dick like it’s the world’s most delicious lollipop, leaving tingling iridescent trails in his wake as he kisses down the shaft.

Wade is transfixed at the sight, pulse rabbiting as Spidey traces over the scars with his tongue, dipping into the grooves like he’s trying to ingrain them into his memory by mouthfeel alone.

It’s the hottest fucking thing Wade’s ever seen. In fact, he wishes he could permanently pluck out his own eyes to make sure it’s the last thing he ever sees. Then again, maybe it's good he can't because there’s no way he’s missing the sight of Spidey chasing a drop of precum like it’s vital to his survival.

“You taste so pretty,” Spiderman slurs like he can read Wade’s mind, or maybe taste it on his tongue— punctuating the statement with a debauched kiss to the leaking tip. “So fucking perfect, wanna keep you here forever.”

The praise goes straight to Wade’s head, hips jerking uselessly against Spidey’s iron grip. “You can,” he sounds pathetic. “As long as you want, all yours.” And he is, fuck, he is— for as long as long as Spiderman can stand him.

“Yeah?” A pink-slick tongue laves the underside of the head, tracing the throbbing vein there. Wade’s vision crackles; it’s so intense, “Whenever I want?” There’s something deeply satisfying in the way his fingers dig into Wade’s hip, ten sweet points of bruising pain that makes his dick weep.

“Yeah. Anytime, anywhere,” Wade promises fervently, sounding like the lovelorn maiden he is. He’ll let Spidey blame it on the venom.

That gets him a crooked grin, pleased. Spidey purses his lips around the head of Wade’s cock, content to linger, pressing torturous little licks into his slit.

Now, Wade is a well-known masochist, but apparently, he’s got a limit. “C’mon, Fangs,” he moans, twitching against Spidey’s mouth, heart jumping when the head of his cock hitches one venom-slicked lip high enough to see teeth, “Let me in.”

That earns him a heartfelt groan and a shiver.

“I want, but-” Spidey hisses, rubbing his lips against scarred skin. Lips draw back in a facsimile of a snarl.

Wade pulls at Spidey’s shoulders, impatient, “Your teeth? Trust me, baby, it's all I've been thinking about. I want it.” Wade’s cock is literally jumping at the sight. Want doesn’t even begin to describe it.

Wade needs it; needs to see that pretty needle-lined mouth wrapped around his cock before he wakes up behind whatever dumpster he’s offloaded his body.

Spidey stares at him, breath coming out in harsh gasps.

"Please," Wade begs, and it must be convincing because Spidey twitches forward in an aborted movement.

“Show me,” Spiderman says, then shakes his head, sounding unhinged, borderline feral. “No…Make me.”

The demand practically creaks under years of habits born in response to having fangs that don’t retract.

Jesus, he really hasn't done this before, has he?

The thought of being the first person to sink into Spiderman’s virgin fucking mouth drives him crazy. Wade isn’t delusional enough to believe he’ll be the last but fuck, he wants to make it so good that Spidey keeps coming back-

He remembers to tear his gloves off before fisting one hand into the back of Spidey’s mask, tugging hard, forcing the man’s head back until his neck is a pale, elegant line in the dark.

His gorgeous little spider doesn't even flinch; he just leans into the pain like it's a gift. The explicit show of trust sends all voices roaring, and the intensity of Wade's desire takes him by surprise. Violence, lust, love, all the lines blur until Wade can't tell the difference between wanting to fuck Spidey or kill him— whatever it takes to permanently mark him as Wade's.

Spidey chooses that moment to swallow, knowing that Wade's eyes follow the motion like a man possessed. Fucking tease. Wade's going to ruin him.

“Poor itsy bitsy spider,” Wade's voice is a velvet growl as he settles his other hand around Spidey’s jaw, reveling in how the simple touch makes him shiver. Has anyone else ever reacted like that to Wade? “Spent your entire life with that hungry mouth muzzled, huh?”

Wade doesn't wait for Spidey to confirm. He can already imagine the man's civilian life, a sad snapshot of carefully regulated emotions filled with close-lipped smiles and pursed grins. A real fucking shame because Wade recognizes a repressed slut when he sees one. Something, something birds of a feather.

“Don't worry, baby,” He slides his cock up and over Spidey's mouth, watching the wallcrawler jerk and pant as he spreads all that shiny venom over his cheeks, pushing up against the edge of his mask, “I'm going to pry you open just to see how soft you are inside.”

Spidey grits out a wounded noise, jaw hard enough to chew through gravel. He’s drooling through clamped teeth, venom, and spit trailing down his chin in rivulets. He wants it, bad, and Wade wants to give it to him.

Spidey just needs a little coaxing, and the challenge of it, combined with Wade's frayed impatience, makes his touches mean.

“Thought you wanted this?” Wade cruelly squeezes his fingers deep into the bone, right where the hinge is, just to watch Spidey flinch and take it. “Don’t tell me you chased me through the city just to pass on your prize?”

He presses his cock against Spidey’s closed mouth, pushing past his lips to rub against his teeth and catch against his swollen gums, right up against the sensitive glands.

It must feel intense because Spidey shakes and whines, muscles spasming under Wade's fingers as he struggles to fight years of conditioning.

“Was it all talk?” He taunts, pulling back just enough to watch Spidey fight his grip to chase him. “Is it too much for you? Maybe I should put it away-”

It’s a bluff because Wade is fucking desperate, but Spidey’s jaw flexes in response, loosening just enough to unleash a furious growl.

“No?” Wade pretends to think about it long enough for Spidey’s grip to turn dangerous. Wade's hips might be splinters by the end, but that’s just icing on the cake. “You want it?”

“Yes,” Spidey chokes out, and Wade gives him a brutal little shake,

“Then, open up.” His voice is all malice, the way it gets when Wade's face to face with a target he’s looking particularly forward to taking his time with. “Let me break you in.”

That does it. A full-body tremor rolls up Spidey’s entire frame, and slowly, very slowly, his jaw begins to relax.

What a perfect, fucking freak.

Immediately, Wade pushes his fingers into the soft hollows of Spidey’s cheeks, forcing his jaw wider, crooning in pleasure as he watches bruises bloom under pressure. “That’s it, Slick. Open up those pearly gates, lemme see what heaven looks like.”

The fangs really are pretty- long and graceful, and absolutely drenched, gums swollen around the base of his canines— hypersensitive, if the way Spidey is twitching is any indication. His mouth is plush and bright pink, a salivating mess when Wade jerks his head up for a better look.

His cock throbs at the sight, and Wade reached his limit about two paragraphs into this whole thing, so he starts pushing, dragging the leaking tip past Spidey’s criminally soft lips.

“Fuck,” he breathes, hand shaking around Spidey’s jaw. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good. Wider, that’s it, yeah-“

Spidey makes a garbled, incoherent noise that makes Wade want to slam in. His spider is breathing hard and fast, hands tight across the merc's hips; Wade has to fight for every goddamn inch, earn every shallow, torturous slide into that glorious mouth.

The wet, needy sound that accompanies every slide is addicting.

“That’s it, baby, keep that mouth nice and loose for me. Let me give it to you, fuck-” he’s working his hips in little jerks, just dragging the head across Spidey’s drooling mouth, fighting not to come before he's given Spidey his damn prize.

Wade goes deeper each time, teasing both of them when he pulls out and dips back in, little thrusts that have Wade’s nerve endings sparking. Fuck, fuck, he needs more—

"Is that all you can take?" It's supposed to be a taunt, but the words come out twisted, desperate. Wade needs to get deeper; he needs to carve out a space in Spidey's body just for him.

Spidey makes a frustrated, guttural noise around Wade’s cock as he tilts his head. The new angle makes his fangs look obscene, like two gleaming daggers poised over the head of Wade’s dick, and his voice pitches embarrassingly high at the sight.

“In, wanna see you take it.” Panting breaths, Wade pulling as much as he can, pushing his hips at the same time, but there's no fucking give to Spiderman. “Come on, come on, c’mon, c'moncmoncmon-”

Spidey shifts, and Wade feels his jaw pop under his thumb, the final piece of resistance disappearing as he finally leans in, and god- Spidey's mouth is a fucking revelation, all scorching heat, so wet there's almost no friction, just a long, dripping, sinful slide.

Wade hears himself whine, a perfect counterpitch to Spidey's low animal groan.

It's too fast, especially given Spidey's inexperience, but the promise of bruising that beautiful throat from the inside out burns all of Wade's gentler impulses.

And Spidey sounds so fucking pleased, like Wade is everything he ever wanted, sinking further and further like he can't bear the thought of pulling back— like the weight of Wade's cock is more important than the air in his lungs.

“C’mon,” He’s babbling, comically delirious even to his own ears, leaking every thought right into Spidey's greedy mouth, “Take it, take it, sweetheart, it’s yours, all of it, anything you need, Slick, please—”

He's so close. The world is starting to go hazy, the wet sound of Spidey's mouth, the bruising grip around his hips, the chill breeze over his stomach, everything blurring together to tease the most monstrous orgasm of his life.

Right as he's about to tip over the edge, Spiderman retreats, and Wade nearly breaks his own fingers trying to claw him back over his aching dick. Wade's throat burns, loud and incoherent, a wash of white noise against the coming tide.

It doesn't seem to matter, or maybe it does, because Spidey just breathes deep and sinks all the way to the root, and the resounding crack of Wade's skull against the wall is nothing but a delicious accent to the absolute tidal wave of pleasure that swamps him.

Time turns to spaghetti, and by the time Wade floats back up, it's to the sight and sound of Spidey shaking, whining around the thick length of Wade's cock, nose pressed against the bone. He sounds pained, like he's hurting, or—

“Jesus, Jesus, baby, did you just-?” Wade shudders, staring down at Spidey's kneeling form in disbelief.

Spidey just makes a raw, broken noise, sounding as fucked out as Wade feels. He swallows, then nods.

His hands haven't moved from Wade's hips.

"Where did they make you? Fuck, you're so, —just— fucking perfect. You're gonna kill me," Wade chokes out, hoarse, twitching against the soft meat of Spidey's throat.

Spiderman seems to take this as advice because instead of pulling off, he sinks even further until his face is completely pressed up against Wade's abdomen.

It's immediately too much, and Wade scrabbles at Spidey's shoulders, hissing as his body instinctively tries to retreat.

He doesn't go far because Spidey fuckin’ snarls around Wade’s cock in protest, and Wade suddenly finds himself pushed against the wall hard enough to grind his spine into the brick. He’s pinned, completely immobile, save for his mouth- which is still running a mile a minute,

“Fuck, baby, Jesus, you're a fucking lunatic—!" His voice cracks as Spidey inhales him, taking the entirety of Wade's shaft like he's going to find the meaning of life at the base of it.

He stays there for a long time, immune to the desperate, inarticulate noises tearing out of Wade's mouth. Wade's cock hasn't even had a chance to go down, and thanks to Spidey, is almost painfully hard against the back of his throat.

Enthusiasm aside, Wade knows he needs to ease up. Spidey can't be getting enough air— but Wade can’t pull back, not when he feels the tips of those fangs threaten him when he tries. Instinct paralyzes Wade, but the sound that Spidey makes, a low hum of warning, vibrates through his cock and all the way up his spine.

Those teeth press close, locking tight enough to be unnerving. There's no pain, not yet, but the threat, the mere idea of it, sends Wade's brain right into the fucking stratosphere.

When his ears turn back on, it’s to the sound of his own babbling, out of his mind on a heady cocktail of terror and pleasure, "Fuck, Slick, your fucking teeth, yeah do it, do it, do it, do it—" Wade’s voice is wobbly, wet as he shakes from the overstimulation.

Spiderman doesn't let up, forcibly pushing Wade deeper into the wall as he speeds up.

Spiderman pulls back and sinks down, dragging the sharp points of his teeth across Wade's cock over and over and over, carving shallow lines of blistering pain and pleasure that coil in the mess of his brain until they're indistinguishable from one another.

Wade is suspended, writhing in pure, terrifying sensation, and the sounds being punched out of his chest are humiliatingly small and honest.

Spidey’s venom is shimmering on his skin, coursing in his veins, sinking into his fucking soul and staining the ragged thing electric pink. His entire nervous system feels like it's been doused with gasoline and set on fucking fire.

It's too much. Every inch of exposed skin feels flayed. Wade's cock is just a raw nerve, and Spidey’s mouth a fucking black hole, sucking every single thought out of Wade’s head with incredible violence.

“Fuckbabyfuckican't—" But he wants to, wants to give it to Spidey, but there's just no way, he can't.

Spidey doesn't give a shit about Wade's limits, because he pries one of the merc's hands from his shoulder, and Wade valiantly scrapes half a brain cell off the floor to pay attention when Spidey presses the bare palm to the side of his neck—

Everything slows down. Oh fuck. Oh fuck-

Then Spidey swallows and squeezes, and the feel of his fangs pressing in, his throat distending around Wade’s cock, under his palm-

That’s it. Game over. Wade’s entire body locks up, muscles convulsing as Spidey wrenches his second orgasm from the fucking pits of hell. He comes so hard his teeth ache. It lasts for centuries, time stretching and wringing out every drop of pleasure until Wade is whiting out, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

He’s not sure he ever really comes back down; just floats just over the precipice of consciousness, just low enough to hear his own overstimulated whimpers as Spidey swallows around him, just like he promised.

For the first time in ages, Wade's head is blissfully silent, and he basks in it for as long as he can.

Eventually, the world begins to filter in, but Wade's body still feels languid, lacking the telltale bite he associates with general living.

Cracking his eyes open— when had he closed them?— Wade is treated to the sight of a very satisfied, very smug spider.

"Fucker." He manages, voice broken and rough with affection.

His legs are completely fucking shot, and the only thing stopping Wade from buckling to the grimy cement are Spidey's hands holding him to the wall, keeping the entire bulk of Wade's considerable weight like he's nothing.

His thumbs are stroking over Wade's hipbones.

It's hot. It's...it's...

He runs a soft hand over the fading bruises on Spidey's jaw and gets a sweet kiss on his knuckles in return. Wade's heart does something funny in his chest, but the accompanying feeling isn't funny in the slightest.

Then Spidey nips the thumb, grinning wide, a little drunk and a lot vicious. The broken rasp of his voice straight up rewires the pleasure centers of Wade's brain, “Again?”

Wade feels the addiction forming, physically impossible but there all the same. And like every substance abuse story, Spidey is going to eat Wade alive from the inside out.

What a way to go.

"Yeah," Wade grins. "C'mon sweetheart, let's see if you can actually kill me this time."

#hunting!spider #spiderman #deadpool #spideypool #blink and miss it character study #can't wait to spot all the typos the moment I post this up #the 3am brain just hits different #they're in love your honor

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wicked-barbie · 8 days ago

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Sanguine Bond

House of the Dragon: Jacaerys x twin!reader (mentions of Jace x Baela and Dalton Greyjoy x reader)

Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI)

WC: 1.8 k

Warnings: Targcest/twincest, possessive!Jace, rough sex, blood, spanking (belt), blow jobs, knifeplay, mild humiliation

Summary: There are bonds others wouldn’t understand; the one between you and Jace runs deep

As you gripped the reigns tighter, your heart thrummed in your chest, like a hummingbird fluttering their wings in desperation. Gaelithox’s jade wings flapped hard, navigating through a slender opening between two cliffs, guiding your passage to Dragonstone. Blistering dragonfire exploded behind you, the heat singing your back and the end of your braid. You swallowed the fear before you barked the order,

“Aderī, Gaelithox!”

Your slender, swift dragon picked up speed, crossing the threshold that Aemond wouldn’t dare enter. You didn’t risk looking behind you when you heard Vhagar’s angry roar billow through the sky, which vibrated intensely through your bones. You hadn’t realized you had been holding your breath since giving the command until your throat spasmed and lips parted, allowing you to draw in a ragged gasp of air. Gaelithox parted her massive jaw and gave a screech of triumph as she lowered herself toward the lip of the Dragonmount.

Fear dissipated as a smug feeling of victory flooded through you as you dismounted and removed your moleskin gloves, walking toward the entrance of Dragonstone. You had secured the allegiance of Lord Dalton Greyjoy. The Red Kraken had been impressed with your command of Gaelithox and your bold tongue, and you didn’t see the harm in allowing him to believe he could have your hand in marriage once your mother’s throne was secure. He was bloodthirsty and a bit deranged, but if you had to follow through, so be it. There were worse matches.

You made straight for your mother’s quarters, and she embraced you once your presence was announced. Your twin, Jacaerys, and cousin, Baela, occupied the seats surrounding you, and you could feel your brother’s intense gaze lingering on you. From the corner of your eye, you saw Baela’s grip tighten around his hand.

“Was a pact agreed upon?” Rhaenyra asked, drawing your hands into her own, smoothing her thumbs across your knuckles.

“Indeed, it was. When all the dust settles, and you have your throne, I may have to wed Lord Greyjoy, but I’ll do so willingly, Mother,” you smiled, and she tilted her head.

“Only if you wish otherwise, I will not allow it,” she assured you, drawing you tightly into her arms.

“Well done, cousin,” Baela smiled, and you turned to face her and Jace, noting how tightly his jaw was set. Those dark eyes smoldered intensely, and you knew what the night held for you. A bit of guilt gnawed in your stomach. Baela was his intended, and you should not betray her in such a way, but you knew Jace would never be your husband. What was a harmless tryst? It would end once they were properly wed.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to bathe and change. Aemond gave me quite the chase,” you said.

Jace’s dark eyes widened, and your mother frowned.

“I should not have sent you alone,” Rhaenyra sighed.

“I did not anticipate that Aemond would be on his way to secure an alliance; he was most vexed,” you smirked. “He turned tail once I reached Dragonstone, so nothing to fret over.”

Baela laughed at your flippancy, nodding her approval while a thin line set across Jace’s mouth, his fingers digging into the thick fabric of his trousers and his knuckles turning white. Rhaenyra reached out to stroke your cheek.

“Do not be so careless, my heart. Aemond is a worthy foe, and you should not let your guard down around him,” she lectured.

You nodded, giving her your best sheepish look. “Apologies, Mother, I won’t be so foolish again.”

She nodded, giving you a soft smile. “Go and recover from your eventful day.”

You felt Jace’s eyes burning into your back as you escaped to the privacy of your chambers. Two of your ladies helped you undress from your riding clothes as the others prepared a steaming bath with jasmine oil. You removed the dagger from your boot, running your thumb over the sharp blade. It also resembled the one Jace had, both gifted daggers on your eight-and-ten namedays. The dagger's hilt resembled a curved dragon’s head, with two rubies glistening in the eye sockets. A crimson bead of blood blossomed against the calloused pad of your thumb as a memory came rushing forward.

“Blood of my blood,” you whispered, pressing your bleeding finger to Jace’s mouth.

“Flesh of my flesh,” he replied, his blood as sharp against your tongue as the two of you shared a private moment on the beach of Dragonstone under the glistening silver moon.

His flesh melded against yours, mouth hot and hungry, like a starving beast longing to be satiated. Your nails clawed the smooth, pale skin of his back, bringing more blood forth as a beast awakened from deep inside you. Your dragon roaring, fervid, and tumultuous, consuming your being. Fire and blood.

You were left in peace, dagger placed on the table, soaking in the balmy water as you closed your eyes, allowing the warmth to carry you away. You were startled awake a few minutes later, water sloshing over the tub's sides as Jace’s fingers tangled in your hair. You stared into his brown eyes; the warmth usually filling them was gone.

“Jace, what are you doing?” you demanded, his grip tightening in your hair, and out of your peripheral vision, you spotted the secret entrance next to your cupboard open—the sneaky shit.

His jaw flexed with his displeasure, making your stomach twist as your pearl throbbed with desire. You loved it when this side of him came out, and it’s how you justified the dalliance. You embraced the darker side, the side only a twin could understand, while Baela got the best of him.

“You were foolish,” he spat, glowering.

“You’re jealous,” you teased, squealing when he let go of your hair and thrust his hands under your arms, tugging you out of the warm water. You shivered, dripping and bare before him.

“And what would I be jealous of?” he asked darkly as you wrapped your arms around your exposed chest to provide modesty and warmth.

“That I could secure an alliance without you and that I might marry Lord Greyjoy,” you stated, towing a dangerous line. His temper lingered deep beneath the finely crafted facade, and the dragonfire would burn you when it exploded. But you welcomed it. You did not wish to be treated like a dainty princess and craved things that would set your teeth on edge: blood and fire.

“You need to be taught a lesson,” Jace hissed.

“Then give me one,” you purred before crashing your lips against his.

The kiss was brutal, punishing, bruising. His teeth scraped against your lower lip, blood welling from the shallow splits as it spilled into his mouth. He pushed your wet, naked body over the chair and slipped his heavy leather belt free after removing the dagger and sword. It whistled through the air, leaving a sharp crack of pain against your vulnerable backside. A moan spilled from your mouth. Ten lashes left your skin searing and your cunt dripping.

“Get on your knees,” Jace growled, and you carefully moved, sinking before him with tear-stained cheeks.

You watched with eager eyes and a watering mouth as he freed his cock, dangling it in front of your face before slapping the leaking, ruddy tip against your lips. You parted your mouth, drawing his large cock as deep as it would go, more wetness spilling down your eyes.

“How pretty you look with my cock shoved in your mouth, sister. How quiet you are then,” he cooed, thrusting his hips to drive himself deeper.

You sputtered around him, taking what he gave you. You wondered if Dalton Greyjoy would understand this side of you, how you craved being taken in hand and humiliated, yet allowed you the freedom you also enjoyed. Once Jace’s cock was slick with your spit, he removed himself from your mouth and took you over the bed. There was a gentleness to him now, some of the fire simmering out. You tugged off his breeches, removing his vest and tunic until he was as naked as you were.

He laid beneath you, guiding you to mouth his enormous cock, trembling as he watched it split through your slick folds. You whined, tossing your head back as damp tendrils of hair clung to your shoulders until you were fully seated on him. You were a gifted dragon rider, after all. You felt stuffed, like you might split in two as you accommodated your twin’s girth and length. His large hands settled on your hips as you began to move, reaching down to lightly fondle a few of the dark curls falling in front of his hooded eyes.

“Blood of my blood, sister,” he whispered, hands sliding up to cup your breasts.

“Flesh of my flesh, brother,” you purred, riding him faster as the heat in your belly blossomed further through your body.

“I wish you could be mine,” he confessed.

“I know, but the stars are not aligned for us,” you whispered, tightening around him.

He lifted his top half, pressing into you, his arms circling your back as he filled you with his seed, and you crashed into euphoric bliss, holding tightly to him. The time would come when you had to separate, clinging to these memories. Ones only the two of you shared. He slipped free, tucking you under the covers as he petted your damp hair.

“I will carry you in my heart, always, sister.”

You smiled, kissing each pad of his rough fingertips. “Just as I will with you, brother.”

You padded over the table, dagger in hand. While straddling Jace’s waist, the two of you exchanged bloody lips and bloody fingers once again.

The years faded, and one day, you found yourself curtseying before your brother and cousin as they now ruled as King and Queen of Westeros. You had married Dalton Greyjoy, enjoying his company a great deal, and learned to love the smell of the salty sea. It seemed your paths were destined to cross again as Jace’s gaze settled on you, that unmistakable look in his dark eyes.’

“We welcome you and Lord Greyjoy to court, sister. It is wonderful to see you again,” Jace said, his gaze lingering on your eldest son, with his dark curls and eyes. Traits easily passed off as your own. You wouldn’t make the same mistake your mother did.

He took you in the garden that night, the bloom of the roses filling your senses as the thorns nipped your skin. You gazed up into the inky sky as your fingers slipped through his silken curls, the blade pressed against your throat. The bond would never be broken, as you willed his seed to take once again.

#fics: hotd #jacaerys x reader #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys x twin reader #jacaerys smut #jacaerys fic #jacaerys imagine #hotd smut #hotd fic #hotd imagine #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon x reader

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ains-art · 11 days ago

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I love your griffins! Their little ears are so cute

I was wondering if you chose to pick traits from species of cats in overlapping native ranges, or if it was all vibes based?

Thank you so much <33

Just based off the vibes the birds gave me, i'm afraid this challenge was too spontaneous for me to have the energy to do further research :') would've been super cool to pair them with felines close to them!!

To list the inspirations (they aren't meant to be represented accurately in the art) for you:

-Pheasant coucal: various vague feline species, looks similar to a classic griffin on purpose

-Rufous hummingbird: harvest mice

-Hamerkop: sighthounds, horses, angora cats

-Swallow-tailed kite: generic cat

-Orange fruit dove: genet

-Citrine canary-flycatcher: kitten

-Diederik cuckoo: aardwolf

-Comoro blue vanga: cougar

-Purple quail-dove: bulldog

All the othera just have unspecific inspirations

#ask

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shithowdy · 4 months ago

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birds i have seen on my trip this week that i was able to ID (for posterity and later logging. * marks first sighting since i started keeping track, though some i know i saw as a kid):

american crow

common raven

chihuahuan raven *

steller's jay

red tailed hawk

swainson's hawk *

northern harrier *

american kestrel

turkey vulture

snowy egret

great blue heron

gambel's quail *

greater roadrunner

bushtit

mountain chickadee *

white-winged dove *

mourning dove

rock dove/common pigeon (let them be on a list okay)

western kingbird

say's phoebe *

killdeer *

western tanager *

western bluebird *

black-chinned hummingbird

european starling (begrudgingly added)

great-tailed grackle

brown-headed cowbird

brewer's blackbird

tree swallow

house sparrow (thin ice being here)

chipping sparrow

tree sparrow

savannah sparrow *

#birding #woooooo

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green-eyedfirework · 10 months ago

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“Anyone ever tell you that dragons are possessive, little thief?” Slade asks conversationally, as though he hasn’t got the human pinned under one clawed hand, towering above him with wings flared. His cave is alight with merrily dancing flames and even with one eye, Slade’s eyesight is good enough to see the way they flicker in the thief’s wide blue eyes.

“I—I wasn’t—I’m not,” the little thief stutters, breaking off with a gasp as Slade presses him flat against the stone. “I’m sorry!” comes out higher-pitched, “I—I apologize, I didn't mean to—”

“Didn’t mean to steal from a dragon?” Slade finishes helpfully. Watching the impertinent little shit sneak through his cave had been almost entertaining enough to excuse being woken from a nap. Especially his squeak when he saw Slade staring straight at him.

The little thief tried to run before Slade’s tail cut him off from the entrance and Slade’s claws trapped him in a cage.

“What were you looking for, anyway?”

“...Dragon scales,” the quiet voice admits hesitantly.

Bold little thief. Dragon scales are very valuable. Slade’s seen them used in jewelry and in metal-working and for magic. It also explains why the little thief ignored the piles of gold and jewels and finery to creep towards the dry, cracking patch of scales on Slade’s back foot.

“And you thought you could waltz right in here and take them, little thief?”

“I’m not—” the human starts before he cuts himself off. “I’m sorry. I—I really need those scales. Please.”

Slade hums consideringly. This is truly an interesting diversion—and a pretty prize.

Usually Slade’s prey doesn’t wander right into his den, but he’s not complaining.

“What’s your name, little thief?” Slade asks. Desperation is a good look on him. His dark hair is ruffled, his skin gleams in the firelight, and those blue eyes shine like sapphires.

The thief swallows before replying and Slade watches his throat bob. “Dick,” he says, “Dick Grayson.”

“And what would you do in return for my scales?” Slade asks. Dick’s expression flits to relief as he inhales sharply. Slade doesn’t let himself grin, not yet. Lull the little thief into thinking he’ll get what he wants, let him taste the fruits of his greed, and he won’t let go.

“You’ll give them to me?” the thief’s voice cracks with hope.

“I’m sure we can work out a deal,” Slade lets himself show each and every one of his fangs. The little thief shivers. “Depends on how badly you want those scales.”

“What’s the deal?” Dick asks bravely.

Slade lowers his head until he’s looking at the little thief from a distance close enough to devour him. “I’ve been looking for a bedwarmer,” Slade says, voice low and deep, “Satisfy me, little thief, and I’ll give you your scales.”

Dick’s eyes widen to the size of saucers. He stops breathing, literally, looking up at Slade like he’s expecting Slade to take him like this, and Slade allows himself the chuckle as he shifts forms. When the transformation ends, Slade’s straddling the little thief, human-sized hands keeping him pinned to the ground.

Dick takes a shaky, trembling breath. His heart is thrumming like a hummingbird’s. His expression is close to relief, though still too desperate to qualify, and Slade grins. This form may be smaller but it is by no means small.

“Well?” Slade asks. It’s been a long time since he’s had some stress relief.

“Alright,” the human’s voice is hoarse, “I agree to the deal.”

“Fantastic,” Slade purrs, leaning over Dick, “Let’s get started.”

~#~

Dick has to fight to not back himself all the way until he tumbles out of the nest he’s been led to. It’s lined with soft furs and pillows, sinfully decadent, and Dick has never felt more terrified as he edges away from the dragon stalking in.

Slade, he introduced himself, after Dick was able to calm down from the near panic attack of a dragon wanting to fuck him, and even in human form the dragon is nearly twice the size of him. Silver hair, a dark eyepatch, a dark orange-and-black scaled suit that ripples above his skin.

Dick’s gaze wanders to his crotch, and he swallows thickly. The bulge is…large.

“Here, little thief.” The dragon tosses something at him and Dick nearly fumbles the catch. “Prepare yourself.”

It’s a bottle of oil. Dick stares at it, heart thundering in his ears. He can’t believe this is happening. But he needs those scales, and this is the only way.

“Or do you want me to do it for you?” Dick snaps his gaze up and Slade’s grin is wicked as he flexes a claw-tipped hand. Dick can’t entirely suppress the shudder as he sits up hastily and gets to removing his clothes. He doesn’t want those claws anywhere near him, human-sized or not.

He can still feel the crushing weight on his chest, the surging terror when he realized he was caught, he failed, the dragon had him and wasn’t going to let him go—

“A better prize than I imagined,” the dragon says, low and heated and Dick looks up from the pile of his clothes to see Slade eyeing his naked body like it’s something to be devoured. He shivers, and Slade’s gaze grows more intense.

#my snippets #sladick #dragon au #dubcon #never a good idea to steal from a dragon

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