#aroused crabs

[aarongenuity]

Nobody:

Not a soul:

My narrative at some point for some reason:

and then the fucking psychic crab people got here and then, then it was a real shitshow!

[murdrdocs]

after those photos i keep thinking about beach sex with luke 😔 the hot send on ur back while he eats u out to the sounds of the ocean

this is loba btw + side blogs kinda suck

eating from the back; public (?) sex; mentions of luke's big ass nose MDNI 18+ gasped when i got this btw w/ LUKE CASTELLAN

it's like a scene out of a movie.

the sun dipping below the horizon in front of you. the waves crashing against the shore, reaching closer and closer towards your outstretched hand with each cascade as the tide grows. the smell of sunscreen and saltwater sticking to you just like the sand stuck between your toes.

there's so much happening, so many sensations surrounding you, attempting to draw your attention away from the pleasure filling up your body. if anyone other than luke were between your legs, maybe you would be focused on something else. maybe you would focus on the hermit crab searching for a new shell just off to your left. or the breeze blowing up the corner of your beach towel.

but since luke is the one pleasuring you, you can't focus on anything else. he has your complete attention, even if you can't see him.

with your ass perched in the air, your bikini pushed to the side in luke's haste, leaving you just exposed enough for his eyes and his eyes only. you're alone on this beach, both of you know it, but you always tell luke "just in case" and he always does what you say.

likely, because it gets him this: your hands digging into the sand as he buries his head into your cunt, his big nose reaching towards your entrance when he dips his mouth down to focus on sucking your clit.

he bought you out here for an impromptu date, that was his reasoning to chris. but the way luke slung his arm around your waist was a clear indicator of why he was really dragging you out here in the middle of the day. it's so he could have alone time with you.

so he could put you on all fours and fuck you until your cheeks clapped and he finished on your back. so he could keep you in that position, pull your ass towards him, and eat you out with the orange glow of the sun setting painted directly in front of your eyes.

it's all you can see when luke gains more vigor. he's been uncharacteristically quiet from behind you, and just as soon as you think about it, he opens his mouth.

it's not like you're upset with him, though, even if he's taking away the one thing you want from him to talk to you. but his words, combined with the sound of his voice, is enough to keep you pushed towards the edge.

"taste so good, angel. so, so fucking pretty, too. you feel good? yeah? 'm making you feel good? can't get enough of you like this," he smacks your ass then, watching the cheek ripple before stopping the motion by gripping your flesh in his hands once more. he spreads you open again, and when the warmth of his face disappears for a second, you wonder what he's doing.

until you feel a warm glob of saliva fall onto your puckered hole and dribble down towards your entrance. if it even needs any help at all, luke sacrifices his grip to guide his spit towards your cunt, where he gently pushes a single finger into you, and then drags it out to smear the rest of his saliva along the rest of you.

and then, he's back on you, twice as messy as before if even possible.

since you two got down here, luke was messy. he stayed off of you long enough to hide his true intentions, wading in the shallow end of the water with you until you both started to prune and his curls became soaked with salt water, and then he was on you. kissing you sloppily, coaxing you back onto the beach towel, not even letting your bikini begin to dry before he was peeling the bottoms to the side and slipping the top down.

your first orgasms ended with your arousal coating your cunt and luke's cum spurted on your lower back, and this orgasm ends with your cum on the lower half of luke's face.

he's completely undeterred by it (just like you were with his cum). when he flips you around, his lips kiss from the top of your cunt—right above your clit where you thought you would be tired of having him but your body proved you wrong—all the way up to your lips. and even after he kisses you like he has something to prove, when you separate, his face still shines in the orange light.

[dollfacedsl1ut]

Crystal Moon

dynamic: g!p ning x siren!fem reader

synonsis: ningning went to a nearby beach to clear her mind but there’s a unexpected visitor who she meets along the way

warnings: dubcon, manipulation, exhibition, seduction, dacryphilia (crying), begging, overstimulation, both are dominate at one point, Ning is a little depressed lmk if I’m missing smth !!!!

wc: 1,329 or 1.3k

A/N: in honor of my LONNGGGGG awaited return I’ve made something new plus I’m accepting bg requests!!

The old sand molted the shape of ningning feet as she walked along the beachside, this was the only way she would be able to think, everything was just so clouded in her mind and she needed to catch a break, whether it was paparazzi or stalkers following her it was all too much, this beach reminded her of the good times she had as a kid although it looked different….. it was windier and cloudy all the time not a lick off sun in sight..

Ning rested against a large rock near the ocean the tidal waves marking their path in the brown sand, her eyes felted heavy as she glanced at the empty vodka bottle she had tucked away in her jacket, she knew she’d have to go back and face reality eventually but a little break wouldn’t hurt anyone

She let her eyes close for a brief second before a a sweet yet seductive tune played in her head, maybe it was the alcohol she thought over and over until the rhythm changed…”Yeah theres no way I’m dreaming” she thought as her legs dangled from the large rock, the tune got louder and more intense but the voice of whatever it was made her head foggy, foggier than it was before it was mind controlling in a way, she counted complain it was such as beautiful thing to hear but she felt like it was the only thing she heard the sound of the ocean water hitting the rocks gone, the sound of the birds chirping and flapping their wings erased, just the tune was heard, yeah she was in denial until a dark figure was seen moving from under the wooden brown bridge in front of her.

Maybe her suspicions were true she’s not dreaming…but in fact hallucinating Ning groaned as she lifted her body off the rock before plopping down on the sand, she could’ve swore she stepped on a seashell or a hermit crab? But nonetheless her foot was on a sharp object, she didn’t know if she wanted to check on her foot or follow the figure who released the tune..

She just couldn’t think straight so ignoring her very aching foot she went after it but the song got louder and more hypnotizing and intoxicating it felt like drinking the most throat burning alcohol in the world, right when it felt like she was gonna faint she spotted a dark purple tail she reached out to try and grab it but it moved upwards like it was begging Ning to touch it, but that’s when the song stopped as the tail turned into a pair of long soft legs

“H-hello” Ning said with a shaky voice unaware of the creature that was before her eyes, the now human walked in front of ning as she gawked, your skin was glistening as her eyes trailed from your body to your chest then your dark eyes, they looked lifeless to Ning but she didn’t move..she couldn’t move..it was like someone was holding her in place.. you were holding her place the song she heard wasn’t a dream or a hallucination it was you..you lead her here to do what exactly??

Your dark eyes pierced her skin, it made her feel invisible but when your hand touched and grasped her shoulder she knew you were real “w-who are you” she whispered “if I told you who I was I’d be banished so let’s just call me siren” her voice gave her chills as she nodded your presence drove her crazy but your body was hypnotic, needless to say there was a visble tent in her pants as she looked at you trembling “I must say I never seen another human on this beach in months” Ning almost came right there when you kept speaking to her, she didn’t know you could sense her arousal, your arms brung Ning in for a bare hug before dragging her under the wooden brown bridge, she wanted to scream and fight, she didn’t want to go with you, she didn’t know if you wanted to kill her or even take her away she was defenseless because she just had to come to you, she just had to be attracted to your song and follow you…

You reached the bridge as you placed her down on the sand this part was much darker and colder it made her nipples perk up under her gray hoodie, Ning was afraid but aroused, you straddles her hips as your hands rested on her shoulders “you know what I’m gonna do to you is your own fault right…..you purposely followed me for you’re own reasoning” she wanted to believe it wasn’t but your words persuaded her, a smile formed on your lips as you unzipped her hoodie, her skin was so and delicate, it was life one slice with your claws and her skin would be tainted

Your hands trailed to her pants as her tent was visible you smiles softly before pulling them down but leaving them on her thighs although you were gonna take advantage of her you didn’t want her to get horrifyingly sick, there was a sight of precum left in her boxers as you pulled them down revealing her cock, it stood upright as it smacked against her soft belly it was so thick and long, this was visibly the biggest you’ve ever seen even male sirens didn’t have this much girth you thought as you slide down your panties, there was a hint of worry on nings face as you lifted yourself up then guided down on her cock, the stretch was painful but bearable, you sank down until your clit reached her pelvis, Ning gasped and whimpered under you as her hands immediately went to your hips kneading the soft flesh, you tried your best to stay silent but it just felt too good your body weakened as you moved your hips against hers her cock felt good in your tummy, her tips was pushing and hitting your cervix as you got leverage and started to lift your hips and bounce on your cock, your whimpers didn’t go unproved by Ning as she kept kneading your hips while letting out whimpers or curses every other second, your cunt squeezed her cunt deliciously as your hips moved restlessly it was so magical and synchronized, her flesh slapped against yours as liquid ran down your legs she didn’t know you came yet until the white ring formed around her cock, she felt her high coming as you clamped around her, she didn’t know you could get this tight it was unbearable as tears rolled down her cheeks, she came inside your cunt with a loud cry as her hands squeezed you tight, but you didn’t stop you wanted to be full you haven’t felt like that in a while and she was your only option, her cock veins bulged and dragged against her spongy walls as you came again, your cum was beginning to soaked her joggers, Ning hiccuped as she pleaded and begged you to go faster, her feeble voice was such a turn on it made your cunt quiver around her, you felt her hands snake up your body and grasp your chest fondling with your nipples, you moaned at the sensation, as your hips stuttered.. you were close again but so was Ning her cock throbbed inside of your cunt as she squeezed and pinched your nipples your bottom lip tucked under your teeth as you came around her for the last time, Ning followed as her warm cum coated your walls.

Nings eyes closed as you lifted yourself off her, you cleaned her up but left her on the sand unconscious or conscious you’ll never know, but you did know she’d be back to look for you and always you’d be singing your tune wishing she would be the one to come find you….

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

Emperor's Children have a sex drive

Boom! This is canon. It took me to read a lot of literature and write down all the hints, but it was worth it.

Here we go ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

First of all, we need to start with Julius Kaeseron, who experienced sexual attraction to Bequa, and later to the demonette. Fun fact. In my native language, because of the translation, not only Julius appreciated the delights of the composer, but also Lucius, lol.

JULIUS WATCHED WITH barely contained excitement as the blue haired composer crossed the stage and descended into the orchestra pit to take her place on her conductor’s podium. Dressed in a scandalously translucent dress of gold and crimson, the gossamer thin material hung with precious stones that glittered like stars. The cut of her dress plunged from her shoulders to her pelvis, the swell of her breasts and the hairlessness of her flesh clearly visible beneath. ‘Magnificent!’ cried Fulgrim, clapping furiously with the audience at Bequa’s appearance, and Julius was amazed to see tears in his eyes. Julius nodded, and though he had no real memory of feminine splendour or any frame of reference against which to compare her, the composer’s curves and obvious womanhood stole away his breath. Julius had felt such stirrings of emotion when he gazed upon his primarch, heard a particularly inspiring piece of music or went into battle, but to feel his senses aroused by a mortal woman was a new experience for him.

Bequa Kynska thrashed like a lunatic atop her conductor’s podium, jabbing and slashing the air with her baton, her hair a wild comet of blue as it whipped around her head. Julius tore his eyes from the magnificent sight of her and looked out over the audience to witness its reaction to this sublime, raucous music.

And yes, in all of these examples, you can see that Julius doesn't just find the girl and the demonette beautiful. He notes that he was delighted by femininity. Moreover, he even calls it seductive. Seductive. Not the most commonly used word in the Space Marine vocabulary.

Julius had never seen anything so simultaneously beautiful and repellent, a naked female creature that evoked both a potent loathing, and a perverse sensuality that gnawed at the pit of his stomach. Hair like needle horns swept back from her oval face, with its green, saucer-like eyes, fanged mouth and luscious lips. Her body was sculpted perfection, lithe and sensuous, but with only a single breast, and her skin was loathsomely tattooed and pierced. Each of her arms terminated in a long crab-like claw of glistening red chitin and moist flesh. Despite the lethal claws, the creature was disturbingly seductive, and Julius felt moved in a way he had not been since he had been elevated to the ranks of the Astartes. She moved with languid, cat-like grace, her every movement redolent with sexuality and the promise of dark pleasures and excesses unknown to the minds of mortal men. Julius ached to taste them.

And here you can see that the space marines did not yet know how to unleash their emotions. How to have pleasure other ways than battle:

The Astartes too were swept up in the surging power generated by the Maraviglia. Blood was spilled as the emotions of the Astartes were overloaded with sensational excess, and were vented in the only way men bred as warriors knew how. An orgy of killing spread from the stage, blood running in rivers as the power of the music thundered through La Venice.

But they learn quickly and start trying a lot of different things. This can be clearly seen in "Reflection Is Cracked". And yes, there is even a special place for more intimate things:

"Which was not to say that the observation deck went unused. Those who imbibed the toxically hallucinogenic cocktails brewed by Apothecary Fabius found enlightenment in its infinite vistas, and many indulged their freshly awakened carnal hungers with vicarious feasts of flesh and blades. Discarded bodies and torn heaps of broken glass lay strewn throughout the bay, and the occasional moan issued from a jumbled pile of clothing and leather restraints."

The same story mentions that they had fun with prisoners on one of the planets for several days. At first, one company abused the slaves, later handing them over to another.

During the Siege of Terra, the Emperor's Children also tortured mortals. Moreover, it is not specified exactly how. If this were ordinary literature, then “more direct and crude enjoyment” could be perceived as a, ahem, dubious agreement. But since Warhammer 40k is here, use your imagination.

Simple pleasures had given way to complex debaucheries. While their allies fought and died the Emperor’s Children slaughtered more than a million people and rendered them down to create endless varieties of drugs and stimulants. Countless thousands more died to give the Emperor’s Children more direct, if cruder, enjoyment.

How exactly did they have fun? Not specified. But I think that everything was there. And yes, this is an important point.

In Angel Exterminatus, Julius even emphasizes that they began to experience pleasure in EVERYTHING. They began to look for pleasure in all things.

The Lords of Profligacy had lifted the suffocating veils of the mundane from their eyes and shown them unlimited worlds of sensation and indulgence. Undreamed vistas of excess in all things: noise, music, bloodshed, hedonism, torture, violence, adoration and most of all, worship. Every second not spent indulging desires declared taboo in an earlier age was a waste of life, and Julius Kaesoron had long since declared that no act of indulgence would remain beyond his grasp.

And yes, sexual attraction is a matter for every person. While most Space Marines will be attracted to ladies, some will look at men. Yes, I can nitpick, but c'mon, just read this passage:

Lonomia Ruen detached himself from the advance, and Lucius cursed. Since the death of Bastarnae Abranxe, Ruen had transferred his cultish adoration to Lucius. For a while it had been an interesting diversion to have a slavish devotee, but Lucius was already tiring of the man’s desperate need. ‘Your body is a wonder,’ said Ruen.

In the first book about Fabius Bile, a lot is described about how the Emperor's Children have fun on the ship:

The observation deck had become a place of contemplation and experimentation for the masters of the Quarzhazat. A place to indulge in pleasures of body and mind. Slaves bearing immense narcotic generators staggered to and fro, filling the air with a pleasant fug. Emperor’s Children sat on marble benches looted from Imperial temples and eldar crone worlds, or lounged on cushions made from the flayed hides of prisoners, speaking softly to one another of past debaucheries and future ecstasies. They wagered on gladiatorial bouts, watching as unlucky crewmembers gutted each other with rusty blades or, in some cases,hands and teeth. Elsewhere, the crude gutter-poetry of lost Nostromo warred with ear-splitting songs culled from the manufactorums of Chemos and Cthonia. The more artistically inclined among them painted obscene murals on the wall and deck. Armour was peeled away from flesh, so that brands could be applied, or the bite of a tattooist’s needle.

And here we see this:

In the shadows, more intimate entertainments were being enjoyed, to judge by the screams of slave and Space Marines alike. The smell of blood and worse was strong on the air.

Moreover, their leader clearly loves his daemonettes too much. These are the interesting hints you can find in books.

The Radiant seemed to enjoy these occasional slaughters, and openly encouraged them, when he wasn’t leading a hunt or consorting with his Neverborn courtesans.

Oleander really distinguished himself, since apparently he started an affair with Fabius' daughter Melusine:

Oleander, it crackled. It has been so long, my love... come to me... come... He took a halting step forward, despite himself. Desire surged up in him, rising wild. His limbs trembled with need and his brain sparked with longing. A face swelled in his mind’s eye, inhuman and beautiful and terrible in that beauty, teased into the open by the electricfingers stroking his soul. He had danced to this rhythm before, however, and he recognised a lie when he heard one. He forced himself to stop, though his every instinct begged that he go forward. ‘No,’ he croaked. ‘No, I know her febrile stink, and you are not her,’ Oleander said. ‘She would not ask – she would demand.’

In the short story "A More Perfect Union" by Richard McCormick it's implied that some Emperor's Children are having sex (or something like sex). And not only with slaves but with each other.

Xantine to Euphoros:

'It has boon some time since you made your way to my bed chamber, my lord,' he said, draping a purple cloak around his naked body and drawing himself up to standing height with a predator's grace.

Euphoros to Xantine:

'I was worried, I hear pillow talk from from souls who tell me you are lost to your ...'* he looked at the empty containers. 'To your predilections.'

In the book Pariah, the simply amazing character Teke the Smiling appears. And yes, he not only notices the beauty of Beta and Judika, but also wants to “have fun” with the girl. He calls her "sweet" many times as if in mockery. And jokes that she should take her friend on board as "plaything".

‘My, but you’re beautiful,’ Teke said to me, regarding me intently. ‘As beautiful as the boy. Those eyes, that mouth. The hard absence of soul. It’s such a shame he’s been spoiled.’

‘I don’t want to hurt you, Bequin,’ he said. He paused. ‘Well, of course, I do. Very much. Right up to the unthinkable point where it becomes a pleasure for both of us. But I can’t. I’m not allowed to. You’re too valuable.’

‘You have provided us with it. Within just hours of knowing you, Bequin… sweet Mamzel Bequin… you have already performed an extraordinary service for us.’

‘Oh, he likes you, doesn’t he?’ said Teke, smiling at the Curst. ‘Do you want to bring him too, as your plaything?’

And I like how in the sequel the two girls talk about Teke.

‘I don’t have to imagine,’ she said. ‘I’ve met them. A brief encounter with the one named Teke. Thankfully, I was well warded. It was hard to tell what he wanted more – to kill me, or copulate with me.’ ‘Both, I should think. At the same time.’

Also worth mentioning is Telemachon, who was infatuated with Nefertari. Mostly due to the fact that she is a Drukhari. And he wanted to kill her for the Dark Prince. Is there any sexual connotation here? Well:

‘My angel. My lovely angel, you know nothing of what you speak. You’ve spent a lifetime running from the Youngest God. But he loves you, sweetling. He adores you and all of your kind. I can hear him sing each time you breathe. And one day, when you leave your flesh behind, you will be his. A concubine of spirit and shadow, claimed by your true love at last.’

Telemachon closed his eyes, breathing in her breath, drinking her every exhalation. Being near her was rapture. ‘Let me touch you,’ he said, shuddering. ‘Just let me touch you once.’

‘You live in defiance of his hunger, lovely angel... Let me taste you. Let me bleed you. Let me kill you. Please. Please. Please.’

Telemachon’s hunger for her was still a palpable thing, an aura that invisibly stained the air around him. He was imagining the salty richness of her blood on his tongue, and the thought made him shiver.

I want her, came the swordsman’s wish, as clear as if he’d spoken it aloud. He did not send the words to me, but his murderous desire was fierce enough that I couldn’t help but sense his thoughts.

 A feather. A single black feather. I tore it from the fine golden chain that bound it to the pistol grip and crushed it in my hand. ‘Is this from her wings?’ I demanded.  ‘But of course.’ ‘You diseased creature. Stalking her. Watching her.’ ‘And more.’ The onyx of his eyes flashed with reflected light. Telemachon was smiling. His facemask didn’t change, but I sensed whatever was left of his face behind the silver twisting in mirth.

And I really like that the Thousand Sons Space Marine stubbornly says that he doesn’t need Nefertari. That she is simply his property and she has no value to him in the Black Legion. Also he when Telemachon speaks of Nefertari:

I will end him. My mind inferred the tigrus-lynx’s violent eagerness as words, though as ever no words were spoken.

‘Do you value your life so little?’ I asked him, surprising myself with my own honesty. ‘This hunger for her will be the death of you.’

And the Chaosites have clearly expanded their vocubular. Just imagine what the Space Marines said smt like that during the Great Crusade:

‘Prey,’ the wych hissed again, echoed crudely by her sisters. ‘Oh no,’ Lucius grinned. ‘You are quite mistaken, my lovelies. I am not being hunted by you. It is you who are being hunted by me.’

Even Abaddon knows how to speak with ladys even if they are eldar which is really funny:

‘The Maiden of Commorragh,’ he greeted her.

‘They are gone.’ Nefertari broke in, still wearing her smile. ‘Their bodies hang in my Aerie if you wish to introduce yourself to them the way you have to others.’ Abaddon snorted in amused resignation. ‘What a wretched little darling you are, alien. And what of Falkus? Where is he, Khayon?’

I also found two interesting comments on reddit, but alas, I could not find exact references in the books. I'm still a human being and this is a Tumblr post, not a dissertation:

The Emperor's Children are quite possessive of the Daemons of Slaanesh. Fighting honour duels for a kiss of a daemonette or to catch the eye of a Keeper of Secrets. They showered even the least of Dark Prince's daemons with affections and gifts. It is because of this they are jealous of the Word Bearers like Saqqara who needed none of that to be beloved by daemons.

And another one:

The bile series straight up has the ec doing kinky shit only just off screen and one of the things Fabius gets accused of when he's setting up his new men is that he's just making a harem for himself.

I also like reddit about Fulgrim because it's true:

I’m pretty sure there is a pretty blatant scene in Slaves to Darkness that shows Fulgrim’s interest in EVERY excess and sex is part of the equation. It’s like a bunch of cultists and demons in the Webway essentially worshipping Slaanesh by experiencing excess including sex, gluttony, etc. Fulgrim is taking part, but it’s not exactly clear what he is taking part in. He’s a demon prince by this point obviously.

He was the only primarch who was married. He can lie himself that he didn't really loved his adoptive parents and wives but can't lie me:

Fulgrim sat back. ‘I was betrothed, once,’ he continued idly. ‘Several times, actually. Political marriages, of course. Made to seal binding agreements, or open negotiations with certain executive dynasties.’ Pyke didn’t reply. His tone had become sombre. A rare thing, for Fulgrim. The Phoenician seemed to always be smiling, laughing at some joke only he understood. But now, he seemed tired. He rubbed his face. ‘I outlived them all, one way or another.’ ‘Did you love them?’ Fulgrim smiled slowly. ‘Some. I think. At first. After a time, I stopped. Love was a weakness I could ill afford in those days. A billion lives rested on my shoulders, and any hesitation on my part would have doomed them all irrevocably.’ He laughed softly. ‘Or so I told myself then.’ ‘And now?’ ‘Now, I know it would have. There is no room for weakness in this galaxy. No room for imperfection.’

And do you know why this is a lie? Because after Fulgrim become a daemon prince, he immediately got N'kari as his consort:

Fulgrim reached the dais and flowed up its side. The bloated thing squirmed in greeting, uncoiling its bulk and twining it around Fulgrim as he embraced it. The thing purred up at the daemon primarch, baring its teeth. Fulgrim ran a hand over its hair. ‘There, N’kari, my delight… We will have bliss again once this is done with, but he is family, and that means I should listen to what he says, hmm? At least a little.' N’kari… It was not its true name – that was a thing that would have broken reality to speak – but in the realm of the warp it was like a signature drawn in atrocity. Layak had glimpsed it and heard it at the edge of bloody visions, but never seen it before. Now it sat before him. N’kari… Eater of Delight, the Son of Ruin, the Daughter of Delight, one of the Six Courtesans of the Dark Prince. Fulgrim settled next to the exalted daemon, their snake bodies intertwining with a sigh, then turned his gaze back on Lorgar.

Fulgrim squirmed, a hand running through N’kari’s hair, while another picked a wet, red fruit from a silver platter and held it out to the bloated daemon. Layak noticed that the exalted daemon’s face was a warped echo of Fulgrim’s own, a fattened parody of the daemon primarch’s primarch’s soul-breaking perfection. N’kari ate the fruit and licked Fulgrim’s fingers.

‘Which war is this, brother dear?’ said Fulgrim, running a finger over N’kari’s cheek.

Fulgrim snarled as soon as Layak willed him speech. ‘I will take your soul and–’ ‘Your consort has already issued the necessary threats.'

N’kari walked to Fulgrim’s side, its bull-headed form shrinking and thinning until it was a slender figure wrapped in red silk, its skin the colour of a shark’s belly, its eyes black orbs. A delicate crest of bone and skin ran down the centre of its scalp. ‘Where the Prince of the Princes goes, so go I,’ it said, its voice a melody that promised bliss and suffering. ‘I am bound to this and to him. As you command him, so shall I follow your will.

By the way let's not forget the words of my man Tyrell, Renegade Lord of Arden IX (Codex: Chaos Space Marines (8th Edition, pg. 52):

Take care, lest your protests grow tiresome. I have asked for so little! Anyone would think that I have asked you to sacrifice yourselves and your sons! And yet, in Slaanesh's boundless and pleasing mercy, I have asked only for your daughters. Surely you would not deny me my small enjoyments?

And I don't care what fandom thinks about my beloved Ian Watson. I don't like he's other space marines. But his Children of Emperor are great:

Were the screaming tethered female prisoners hallucinating while abominations were perpetrated slowly and perversely upon their flesh? A few tormentors had shed items of armour, exposing grotesquely mutated rampant groins, their organs of pleasure bifurcated and more, with squinting eyes sprouting from them, and with drooling lips. Others had no need to shed armour. Chaos Spawn had materialized: wolf-sized creatures with legs of spiders and bodies of imps, with questing tentacles and phallic tubes. Jaq himself almost believed that he was hallucinating. A snake-like umbilical cord connected these spawn to the swollen groin-guards of their master – who stood back, roaring and whinnying with delight, as they guided the spawn in the ravishing of their captives, soaking up the sensations of these roving external members. Corralling other hysterical captives were beastmen slaves armed with serrated axes. A Chaos Tech-Marine monitored these slaves. His armour was studded with spikes. Each shoulder pauldron was in the shape of giant clutching fingers. He wore a nightmare helmet shaped like a horse’s head, eyes glowing red. One of the shaggy beastmen drooled and dropped his axe. The beastman reached out a paw to caress a particularly voluptuous captive. Immediately the Tech-Marine adjusted a control-box strapped to his forearm. The disobedient beastman’s metal collar exploded, severing his head. The head fell. It bounced and rolled amidst the captives even as the beastman’s body was tottering.

I almost forgot to add that in the book Renegades: Lord of Excess Xantine emphasizes that he is fascinated by love. He liked to kill, torture and just look at lovers. So much so that he was delighted with the way his personal daemonette of Slaanesh hugged him. The usual hug after sex, something personal and more sensual.

Later, he warms up to Cecile, a psyker, but not enough to not use her as a navigator. Although the book mentions that he didn't want to know whether she sighed in surprise or pain when he loaded the helmet on her.

He also called one woman, whom he had picked up a long time ago (she interested him because she laughed when she learned that she had become with the inhabitants of the world, who kicked her out of the city, calling her a witch) a muse.

 So...

It is clear that, first of all, the Emperor's Children derive pleasure from murder and torture. But still this is not enough. Some may have their own personal obsession. For example, Lucius' fencing. A Space Marine was mentioned who sought satisfaction in the spiritual realm rather than the material. They may love music, food, or take drugs. Including fucking. It's just not their main goal.

So everyone who is against “sex among space marines” can relax. Yes, there is sex drive, but this is just one of the pleasures. Besides, only the Emperor's Children have this thing… at least I haven't found any other Space Marines yet. But judging by my excellent analysis, if I try, who knows.

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

I’m thinking something with starscream!? Like smut with a dom starscream and sub reader where he bends her over and overstimulates her pls🙏

Bro did you shoot like some CIA brainwave thingy at me because the night before I had a dream about Starscream and today I’ve been thinking about him all day. Poorest meow meow, most evil loser, fucked up princess

Starscream x Reader, AFAB gender neutral reader, racially ambiguous, overstimulation, g/t, brat taming, finger fucking, slight breeding kink, degradation

Starscream wasn’t known for his patience. He constantly jumped on every opportunity to overthrow Megatron that came his way but somehow Starscream managed so be methodical.

Impatient and methodical.

Maybe more so impulsive and methodical.

He jumps in leaps and bounds to conclusions, always the worst ones. Starscream wasn’t the easiest to get along with by any means yet here you were always by his side. Soft little human form perched atop his shoulder and hugging his helm. Tiny, flesh fingers dancing over his wings as he allowed himself to rest into a recharge state. You were his and Starscream made that very clear.

“Too big!” You cried drool dripping from your mouth and onto Starscream’s desk. Your ass was propped up over Starscream’s arm in the air while your lower body was slumped against the cool metal of his personal desk. His other servo was busy pushing two of his digits into your wet hole.

“I’ve seen you take larger,” Starscream said smugly. “You have no business complaining about taking two of my fingers.”

You moaned as he scissored your hole open. You managed to take his digits down to the second joint and covered them in your dripping arousal. “I can’t believe how greedy you are,” Starscream scolded as he set a brutal pace fucking his fingers into you hard enough to push your body forward. “Speaking to Thundercracker like that,” Starscream huffed as you moaned out for him pathetically. “Is your human valve really so desperate to be filled you’d take any Cybertronian spike that came your way?”

You shook your head desperately. “No! No I only need yours!” Tears welled up in your eyes at the feeling of having your poor pussy brutalized by Starscream’s fingers. “Hm,” Starscream stopped pulverizing your sweet hole for a second to think. “I don’t believe you.” He added a third finger giving you no time to adjust as he returned to his previous pace.

“Please! I only want you!” You wailed feeling your wetness leaking around where his fingers plugged you. “Please!”

Starscream smirked at your reaction reveling in your pathetic form. “Prove it.”

He pulled his servo away from your body taking his fingers out of your slick hole with a schlick. Starscream brought his digits to his intake cleaning off your arousal with his glossa.

You panted watching him over your shoulder. His lascivious display did nothing to help you catch your breath. You turned your body over so you were on your back propping yourself up on your elbows with your legs spread.

Starscream simply sat back in his chair with a smirk plastered on his stupid, handsome face. You pouted at your lover completely furious with how smug he could be.

“Don’t tell me you’re already scared?” Starscream teased releasing his modesty plate with a hiss. His spike sprung to life slapping against his abdomen. You tried your best not to melt at the sight of his fully erect cock and kept your grimace firmly in place.

Starscream gave a firm stroke of his spike before frowning down at you. “I don’t think you want to learn what I do with brats,” he warned with a scowl.

“Takes one to know one,” you snap back with an all too proud smile.

You felt the air shift for the worse as Starscream’s turbines whirled loudly. He pounced slamming his hand down to grab you as you skittered backwards like a crab. “I shouldn’t have to put up with this attitude,” Starscream growled grabbing you around your waist. You shrieked at the sudden motion of being brought to Starscream’s lap.

His spike throbbed between your thighs as the tip beaded transfluid against your chest.

“I generously let you lay on my berth,” Starscream started as he pulled your body upwards so your cunt dragged along his spike. “I amuse your little human antics.” He pushed the tip of his spike against your clit letting his transfluid lubricate down your vulva. “And you still continue to behave like a brat!” Starscream reeled his hips back then pushed forwards stuffing the head of his spike inside of your hole.

You grabbed onto his wrists as your whole face scrunched up in pain. “I think for once I’m going to take what I want from this little organic valve,” Starscream purred with a sharp thrust. You cried out his name pressing the bottom of your feet against his thigh plating. “Such a lovely little hole to fuck,” Starscream said punctuating the last word with a deep rolling thrust.

He kept a steady rhythm using you like a toy. Your cries and squirming only did more to excite him. Your hole felt raw from his fingers previously abusing it and now his spike stretching you to your limit. Tears streamed down your face as you babbled out praises and cries of pain. Starscream seemed all too pleased with how you writhed against his spike. Your squishy body so tender in his servo he could crush you like a bug. The way you gushed and squeezed around his spike made his cooling fans sputter in bliss.

“Say it,” Starscream barked stilling his thrusts. You cried out in protest at him ceasing his movement. “Say that you’re my hole to overload in.”

You whine in embarrassment and softly repeat what he had said.

Starscream pinched your clit harshly earning a cry of pain from you. “Don’t test me, human,” Starscream growled. “Try again and be louder this time.”

“I’m your hole to overload in,” you said breathlessly. Starscream huffed still not satisfied. He flicked at your sensitive pussy making you yelp.

“I’m your hole to overload in!” Your voice rang out.

Satisfied with your display of submission, Starscream grabbed you around your waist and lifted your body up and down his spike. You went limp in his servo having every ounce of your being controlled by Starscream’s drive to cum in you. “I want you to thank me for interfacing with this filthy organic valve,” Starscream spat.

“Thank you Starscream!” You cried feeling yourself pushed far past your limits.

“Unlike you,” Starscream started with a grunt. “I don’t go around taking whatever spike comes my way.”

“I don’t-“

“Shut up,” Starscream barked. “As I was saying, I don’t just interface with anyone so you better feel special to even brush up against my interface panel.”

You nod giving breathless thanks to your lover. Starscream smirked all too satisfied with his fuck toy.

His spike twitched and writhed inside of your gripping cunt. The wet noises produced by your conjoined bodies mingled with your croaking thanks to have your pussy used by your lover made Starscream dizzy with lust. “I’m surprised how you managed to stay so tight,” Starscream hissed. He could feel his release crawling its way through his circuits. “With such a floozy lifestyle I was sure you’d be gaping for any spike that came your way.”

You cried out apologies and continued raining your gratitude onto Starscream. “I don’t want any spike but yours!” You cried feeling your lower body throb in ecstasy.

Starscream swore under his breath trying not to let his hips falter. His little human so beautifully submissive in his grasp. He could be as mean as he wanted to you and still control how you clench your thighs in arousal. “Tell me what you need,” Starscream panted his thrusts becoming erratic.

“Fill me,” you panted squirming in his iron grip. “Please! Fill me with your transfluid!”

Starscream whined your name pushing his spike into you frantically. His optics were squeezed shut as he sneered in pleasure. Your velvet walls were gripping him trying to milk him dry as transfluid spilled from his needy spike. Your combined juices leaked around where he plugged your hole. Starscream’s frantic thrusting didn’t cease until his lower body was shaking. You only shivered and groaned in delight at being so full. You could feel your womb stretching to accommodate the load your lover delivered deep into you.

Starscream’s fans blared in the silence of the room. His tired optics trained on your sweaty body. “My love,” Starscream panted giving you another thrust that made you cry. “Don’t act like I’m finished taking what I want from you just yet.”

[jakescakeislateforourdate]

hi I am the anon from the other day I was thinking about being in a established relationship w Don and he has a rough day a practise I don’t have your talent at writing lol so do what you please after that ahah

Perfect Form

Don Hume x fem reader

wc: 2,900

tbitb masterlist

⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️ : smut, little plot, mdni, minors get out right now, penetration, fingering, cunnilingus, overstimulation, Don denying his own orgasm, aftercare

Enjoy this garbage!

…

Don’s skin glimmers with sweat. His hair is wet and slicked back from his shower not even twenty minutes ago. His pants leaning into his forearms that prop him up over you. His hips roll gently, and he slides in and out of you irritatingly slow. 

“Don.” You whisper, reaching up to touch his cheek. He’s burning, face heavily blushed from the bridge of his nose and down his neck and chest, “need you to go harder.”

His eyes blink open, glancing over you agitated features. They travel down your sternum and stomach and catch on the desperate thrust of your hips to meet him. Instead of helping you out, he places a mean hand on your hip bone and pushes you down, holding you still. His pace does not change, arousal soaking the juncture of your bodies and poisoning the air. You whine at him and try to push against him but the only measured strain it takes to keep you down is the new flex in his bicep. “Just lay down and take what I give you—” 

“C’mon, Hume!”

“Faster, Hume!”

Bobby wouldn’t let him catch a break. Poor Don had been catching crabs all morning, his oar piercing the water at the wrong angle or the wrong time. Something was always wrong with him. 

“Don’t give me that shit, Donny! You can do better!”

“What is that form!”

He just needed to breathe for a second, get his feet under him. He could Joe angrily huffing behind him. Shorty groaning in frustration behind Joe. All Don could feel were their annoyed glares and the sting of their complaints. He was in the stroke seat, he could not afford to be off his game ever and yet there he was, floundering like an idiot. 

“Get it together, you’re slowing this boat down!”

“Pull that again and you’re outta that seat!”

He did not get better by the end of practice and the crew would not get off his case. They complained on the way to the locker room, inside the locker room, in the showers, on their way out of the shell house. Coach Ulbrickson couldn’t even give him the time of day, telling him “If you don’t have yourself sorted out by tomorrow, we’re gonna have problems.” As if Don hadn’t been told off enough. He fumbled through his routine, tuned out to half of what everyone was saying. He tugged on his jacket and then his shoes, not even bothering to tie the laces. 

At this point the crew was more concerned than they were angry. Don was quieter than usual. His face was long and sullen. His gaze distant.

“What’s wrong with Don?”

“What should we do about Don?”

“How can we help Don?”

On and on and he just wanted everyone to shut up and let him fix whatever problem he’s got. He left the locker room, his hair still dripping with the shower water. He found his way to your room without even thinking about, subconsciously knowing what he needed. 

“F-fuck! You feel too good.” His head dips, hair tickling your collarbone. Your hands tangle in the dark strands of hair at the at the back of his head, holding him close. His bare body moves rhythmically. Slow and steady and restrained. He just wants to feel you, prove to himself that he as control. You’d offered to ride him, let him rest his tired body but he flat out refused and shut you up with a kiss. “Just—I just—” As he trails off his pace slows even more. 

“Don! Don, please!”

You can’t handle this leisure fucking, you want him faster and harder. The drag of his cock through your drenched walls is lugging you to a harrowing climax. You feel that knot forming in the pit of your stomach. The broiling heat that electrocutes your veins and shocks your muscles. 

“Faster, faster, faster…”

But Don just doesn’t listen. His thrusts remain soft, and his pace still relaxed. It frustrates you to no end and the need curls painfully inside of you. You arch off the bed, straining against the hand pinning you to the mattress. Your hands latch onto his shoulders. You actually gain some leverage against him which allows you to buck your hips into his oncoming thrust. The excess force creates the most delicious sensation as his thick cock is stuffed further into your soaked pussy. 

“Hn—ngh!” Don’s lashes flutter and his brows draw tight, “Ha’ahfuck! Don’t do that.” The way you squeeze him makes his head spin. Not to mention the fact you’re now grinding back. Don reckons that the only way to keep you still is to drop his full weight onto you. 

That glorious feeling of finally getting that mind-tickling pleasure dies away has Don’s sweaty skin presses fully to yours. Chest to chest, you’re effectively trapped between him and the mattress. “No-no. Why won’t you let me,” his lips cover yours in a callous kiss. The taste of that mint gum he likes to chew spreads over your tongue as his licks into your mouth. Your teeth clack, noses knocking as he rips away your precious breath. Your hands rake down his freckled arms. His own rough hands chase them down and fill in the gaps between your fingers and jam them into the pillows. Aside from your legs, folded by his hips, you’re completely stuck. 

“Will you jus’ listen to me.” His lips abandon yours and he resumes his cold-hearted pace. 

Tears well in your eyes, blurring his facial features and strangling your throat. It softens Don up a little as he watches you begin to cry because it’s how he’s been feeling all day. Finding some sympathy, Don grants you a deeper, harder thrust. He feels your stomach spasm at the newfound sensation. Your insides churn and you toss your head back and moan. Don tucks his knees under you, lifting your pelvis onto his thighs and forcing you to spread your legs wider. You squeeze his hands and sob as he hits deeper. His cock head drags over your g-spot, that rough little patch inside you that makes you twitch, with each of his calculated thrusts. Slick paints your folds, squelching as he pulls out to the tip and then shoves all his length and girth back in. You’re speechless and squirming and totally helpless to his whims. 

“Better?” He plants a kiss on your tear-streaked cheekbone and nuzzles. 

You choke and moan again, but you don’t try to fight him. Instead, your toe curls and you twist. Your orgasm is building faster than he wanted but he figures he can just give you more. He feels the stress of the day melting away as he watches you slip into the mind-numbing pleasure he gives you. He does that. He does it perfectly and controlled and with excellent form. 

“That’s right. You fucking love this, don’t you? Love me and my dick.” 

You wail and shudder as your insides uncoil. He delivers one more measured stroke and you cum hard. Your curl into him as your muscles tense. Clutching onto his hands so tight the knuckles crack. He can’t even move his hips once your legs lock together behind him. The waves of your orgasm wash over you and your walls wring out wetness around him. He wants to cum too, so bad, but he forces his way out of your hold and lets his climax fizzle out before it can shred him.

You whimper at the loss of contact. Your eyes peel open to see him not far away, hovering over you and breathing deeply. His thumb finds your clit and draws circles around the under stimulated bud. “Why...” You can’t catch your breath. “Why did you not—”

“Don’t want this to be over just yet.” 

Don scoops you up and moves you towards the top of the bed. Your back rests against the headboard, a pillow jammed under your hips. He props your legs open and plants a few kisses on your sternum and ribcage before trailing down your belly. Your spasming, dripping core is fully exposed to him and he ravishes you with a ravenous tongue. 

The velvety muscle curls and licks around your clit. It moves fluidly through your folds and prods your clenching entrance. “Hnn, Don!” You’re sensitive and lightheaded and now he’s giving you more than you bargained for. 

He mouths at your core for a while, making an even bigger mess of you. Your fingers tug at his hair and grab at his shoulders but he cannot be coaxed away. His lips, bruised from your rough kiss, suck on your clit and drive you insane. He braces his hands on your thighs and dips his tongue into your hole. You shiver and grind against his mouth as he tongue-fucks your sensitive core. Each brush of his tongue along your walls makes your toes curl and your chest heave. You didn’t get a chance to really recover from the last orgasm he gave you and he’s already steadily working you towards another. 

His thumbs find the petal-soft labia and spreads your folds. You bawl. His tongue flattens out and draws over your exposed parts. Don is relentless in this, his coarse tastebuds relishing the sweetness at oozes out of your cunt. He licks from your clit to your hole, circles the tip just around the inside, then licks back to your clit. Don suckles at the bundle until your thighs shake before he allows his teeth to graze the swell of nerves. Slick and saliva drip down his chin even as he slurps down what he can. 

You chant his name, “Don. Don. Don—” desperate and horny.

His hand leaves your clammy thigh, a rough fingertip pressing on the edge of your hole. His mouth works your clit, a faint slurping filling the breaths between your noises. One long finger pushes in. Then a second. Two rugged digits stroke your pussy and make you squirm. “Fuck Don, fucking—hell!” He can barely hear you cursing he’s so immersed. When you’re not looking at him buried between your thighs or studying the back of your eyelids, you’re watching his hips hump the comforter and sheets. 

Freckles like constellations dot his sinuous back. The pointed ridge of his spine divides the expanse of muscle. He’s tense. Still bothered by whatever has gotten into him today. He digs his fingers into that sore spongy g-spot and you writhe. Pleasure radiates from your overwhelmed core. The next high approaches fast as an avalanche. He works a third finger into you and it’s over. You go completely rigid as you cum again, gushing around his fingers. 

“That’s it, makin’ such a mess.” Don smirks, lips shining with cum.

You think he’s finished when his mouth leaves your cunt and lunges into a sloppy kiss, but then his fingers drag through your folds and pinch your clit. You jolt and keen, still fighting through the aftershocks of the last orgasm, and now he’s belligerently overstimulating that sensitive bud. You can’t get a word in with his tongue down your throat either, all you can do his clutch at him and whimper.

Once your lungs are exhausted of air, his mouth pops off your lips and he wedges himself between your thighs. “Stop trying to close your legs.” 

“Please—it’s so—f-fuck-ing—I can’t!”

“You can take it.”

His fingers rub fast, slicked up by your cum. He catches your clit between his digits and pinches again; it’s just enough pressure to border on pain. He bullies you against the headboard and steals your words away again. You try to kiss him back only to pant into his grin as you begin to wheeze. You don’t know what to do with your hands. Your blood is boiling, body spasming, your mind blank. Your third orgasm hits just as hard as the first two, making you cry out. He eases you down and pulls you back down the bed. He falls into place behind you and lifts one of your tired legs.

“Don, I can’t.”

“Give me one more, one more.” He promises, arm wrapping protectively around you. Your body feels like lead as the arm curled around you props your leg up. The other disappears and then promptly reappears with his cock pinched between his fingers. He pushes the tip through your folds and collects your slick. He’s already drenched in precum, a wet spot on the sheets from where he was grinding.  “Can you do that for me?” He rests the tip against your weeping hole, waiting for you to reply. “Need you to talk to me, sweetheart.” 

“Fuck, I—yes,”

He nudges the tip in and gently works his way back in. He’s long and thick and well aware that he’s a lot to take whether or not he was just inside you minutes ago. But he’s going too slow, that same stupid pace that drove you nuts earlier. 

“Not again, Don, please not a-again!” Fat tears drop across the bridge of your nose as you slump against him.

Don’s free hand soothes you, “Shh, don’t worry, just don’t want to hurt you.” Upon your distressed whines he begins to fuck, hard and fast. He rests his cheek on your temple and rolls his hips as fast as he can while still pushing deep. You go alarmingly silent, and gun grabs ahold of your chin. “Hey, hey, you okay?” 

“Hnnn!” 

You clench and his pattern falters, he’s painfully hard and hungry for release but you must cum first. You raise up on one elbow; Don follows and slips his arm through the newly formed crevice. His fingers find the pert pink but that is your nipple and trace around it. He flicks it back and forth and eventually pinches it between his index and thumb. A drawn-out cry leaves your drooling lips. Don’s free hand finds lifted knee and he hoists it even higher and rolls his hips harder. 

“Oh—” your head falls back, and Don pecks your temple. “I-hah-have to…gonna cum.”

“Yeah?”

Don fucks you so hard the bed creaks and mattress shifts, his skin slaps against yours and leaves behind a sharp sting. His leftover frustration bubbles up and takes over. He’s absolutely savage in giving you your last climax. Broken moans tumble out of his lips as your pussy constricts around him. You suck up empty breaths and Don knows you’re close. He drapes your suspended leg over his hip and reaches for your clit. He musters up enough coordination to find his way through the mess and stroke the aggravated organ. He feels where his cock has stretched you and lets out the most guttural groan as he pinches his throbbing cock between his fingers. 

Black spots obscure your vision as you cum. You thrash and collapse into him, “I got you. I got you. I’m right here.” He whispers into your ear as you cream around him. He takes it for as long as he can withstand, wanting to help you ride out your high, but when the dam bursts he has to pull out and roll onto his back. He strokes himself from balls to tip once, twice, before his insides are racked with his delayed orgasm, and he spills creamy white semen all over his stomach. He pulls you close, rubbing your tummy with the hand still tucked under you. 

“You alright?” He partially sits up and brushes back your hair. Sweat has beaded on your forehead and your eyes have shut tight. He jostles your shoulder until you nod. “Good, let me clean you up.” 

He climbs off the mattress and crosses the room on his shaky legs. He draws a warm bath, adding some bubbles to it before scooping you up setting you in the tub. “Are you okay, Donny?” Your eyes open just a hair and kiss his hand. The blisters and callouses hurt your heart. 

“I am now.” He returns the kiss to your nose before turning to analyze the state of your room. The mattress is damn near falling off the bedframe and the sheets have somehow been tugged from the corner. He lugs the mattress back onto the frame and replaces the sheets. He scrubs his cum off his belly then he’s climbing into the bath with you. The hot water eases the soreness in his whole body. 

You soak together, billing and cooing about the day. Don lets it slip about practice and you snort. “That’s what this has been about?” 

“Hey, now,” A smile plays at his lips as you tease.

You swat him, “Don’t even play innocent. Not after what you just did.” 

“Didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“I’m only teasing, Donny, I’m good.”

“Sure?”

“Yes, you worry wart.” You kiss his tender lips. He cleans you with soap and and washes your hair, fingers massaging your scalp. For a while you rest your head on his chest. Until your eyelids become heavy and you’re in danger of falling asleep in the bathtub. Don helps you out of the tub and into some pjs before he’s ushering you into bed. “You should stay.”

“You want me to?”

“You ask too many questions, Don, get in.” He slips in and nestles himself against you. He’s still bare, knowing he’ll get too hot in his sleep and also knowing what he’ll be like in the morning. The only reason her got you dressed was for the soul purpose and privilege of undressing you later. But that’s for the morning and for now he just wants to cuddle up and sleep off a long day. 

...

Dear reader,

Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this fic please check out my other works on my masterlist. Requests are open if you want to ask . Have a nice day.

-the author

[crushribbons]

𝖈𝖗𝖚𝖘𝖍𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 (𝖓𝖔. 𝖎𝖎)

prompt: [ FIGHT ] our muses are leaders on opposing sides of a war. they have known each other before the war and now their sexual tension is worsened while trying to negotiate a truce. while disagreeing on terms they have rough sex, each one trying to dominate the other. (source)

char: daemon targaryen [house of the dragon] x fem!hightower!oc

warnings: daemon and rhaenyra didn't get together (because i could never endorse infidelity against MY queen) but daemon is still in line for the throne au, oc is alicent’s older sister and grew up in king’s landing as well, SMUT (18+ ONLY), oral (f!receiving), penetrative sex, male manipulator daemon, so canonical daemon.

a/n: this is penance, believe it or not.

The Targaryen rat's smirk would not leave his smug face, no matter what threats she'd been empowered to hurl across the oaken map table at him.

"I do wonder," he began, his words infuriatingly measured and even. Her chest was heaving, she knew it, and she ought not to show how much he riled her. But that smirk. He continued: "Why it is that the unflappable pretender Aegon has sent his aunt to negotiate the terms of his surrender for him."

Her ears flamed red. "Surrender?" she seethed. Daemon was standing, nay, slouching was more the word, against the table as if all this diplomacy bored him, as if the ownership of the entire country configured in tiny marble statuettes in front of them wasn't hanging in the balance. Her sister had warned her what an immovable ass the Targaryen prince would be.

He will not negotiate, he will toy, Alicent had whispered in her ear as the court around them had bustled with preparations for sending her envoy to Dragonstone. We are all mice. He thinks himself the only cat.

"We have no intention of surrender, my prince." She had to spit out the last word, a bitter, oily taste in her mouth.

His eyes narrowed, the first indication he was moved in any way by her presence. "My king," he ordered. Her shoulders did not fall.

She may have wanted nothing more than to see her flighty nephew removed from the seat that he already had nothing more than a tenuous grasp on, but to see this cocky, smug, arrogant usurper in his place...It couldn't be allowed.

Suddenly, Daemon cooed her name, and she dug her nails into the table involuntarily. "You will address me as the Lady Hightower," she said, but the anger in her voice was starting to wain. Memories of Daemon, ten or twelve years prior, taking her face in his hands beneath the Weirwood tree at King's Landing and kissing her deeply before he left to either kill the Crab King or be killed by him, surged through her and set her chest aching.

The tiny part of her that had ached for attention after King Viserys had passed her over in favor of marrying her younger sister had enjoyed the kiss the most, but a swirl of confused arousal had also told her that what she felt when she was near Daemon would not so easily be sated.

They looked across the table at one another, lines etched into their now mature faces, and she knew he was thinking of it, too. Daemon had such a particular way of looking at her, with a downcast face but upturned, ice-blue eyes that were tinted with longing.

"What are the king's terms, my lady?" He finally spoke after several seconds of silence.

"Will you even deign to listen if I tell you?"

Daemon's hand ceased its fidgeting, propped on the edge of his sheathed sword. Then he turned to the attendants lining the wall. "Leave us." Ten small bows and curtsies were given, and they were alone. Daemon rounded the table and made his way towards her. Her heart pounded as he grew closer, his footsteps slow and deliberate.

"Do you think of it, ever?" he asked when he was standing but a foot away from her. His silver-blonde hair was far longer than when she'd seen him last. "Of that night?"

He refused to show any vulnerability, picking up a navy armada from the map and spinning it idly rather than look her in the eyes. The image of Aegon, eyes ablaze with ideas of bloodshed and glory, on the Iron Throne, came into view in her mind. There was urgency to these negotiations, her family was depending on her. Her sister needed her.

"Yes," she whimpered pathetically. Daemon groaned and shed the last bit of his cool demeanor to close the distance between them and grab her just as he had all those years ago. Their lips met, and if anything, it felt even better, even more perfect and sweet. His were soft, and he tasted of dark wine.

Daemon wasted no time positioning her how he liked, bending down to grab the backs of her legs and lift her onto the table. Her shame was almost potent enough to make her push him off, to clear her head and think of her duty and responsibility to her family, and to Westeros. But then Daemon licked along the edge of her jaw, inhaling as he did so, and breathed, "How a woman born of that pig Otto Hightower can be so intoxicating..."

Her brow wrinkled, and she wished to speak up on her noble father's behalf, but then Daemon was falling to his knees and looking up at her, his normally gaunt face flushed pink. "Let's have no more of this--" He flipped her dress around her waist, ran his hands from her knees up her thighs, marveling at the softness, "--unproductive talk."

"It is only unproductive because you do not pay me any heed," she retorted, but her voice was strained and grew more so when Daemon leaned into her covered heat and pressed his lips and nose to it. Pleasure like she hadn't felt in years coursed through her, mixed with a depraved dash of power and headiness. The heavy iron rings on Daemon's fingers were cold against her exposed legs as he gripped her tighter.

The pretender king ate her cunt until she writhed against the Blackwater Rush and knocked the represented King's Guard onto the ground with her flailing arms. One found purchase in his silver hair, and Daemon glanced up at her and smirked, again, that infuriating smirk!

"I am glad to find you so agreeable, my lady," he murmured while kissing her again, his lips covered completely in her. She wished he wasn’t so easily able to break her.

As Daemon drove into her later that night in the chambers prepared for his guest, he said, “You have not yet told me the terms of your surrender, my lady Hightower. Will you place the crown on my brow yourself?” His hands caged her on either side of her shoulders as he thrust and hit a point inside her again and again that made her scream soundlessly. Sweat beaded between their bodies, the sweet mingling of their breath making her dizzy. Words would not form on her kiss-swollen lips.

The Targaryen rat made her come two more times before the sun had risen. He split her apart and laughed about it, and she begged for more. “Do not leave me, dove,” he whispered in her ear while they lay together afterwards, skin glowing. “This war can only have one outcome. Stay with us here and join in our victory. Join me.”

He will not negotiate. He will toy.

[fafnir19]

Sword Borthers

Louis sat at his desk, with piles of papers and screens surrounding him like a fortress of monotony. The office was as lively as a retirement home, and the only entertainment Louis had was peering out the window at the obnoxious frat boys from the nearby university.

Their booming laughter and cocky swagger grated on his last nerve, but a small part of him couldn't help but envy their carefree existence. With his 35-years Louis was trapped in a dead-end office job, the only splash of color was Monique, a stunning 29-year-old colleague who had unknowingly stolen Louis's heart. Unfortunately, his crippling shyness transformed him into the office's resident hermit crab, too timid to approach her with anything more than a weak smile during their coffee breaks.

One day, after a successful business deal, the entire office headed to the city's party district. Louis usually preferred quieter events, but the atmosphere was infectious, and Monique was there too. The presence of the obnoxious frat jocks didn't bother him much at the time. As the drinks flowed, Monique approached Louis, and he could hardly believe his luck. The night escalated quickly, and Louis found himself entangled in a passionate affair with Monique.

Buoyed by the night with Monique, Louis decided to take up some exercise. While showering at the gym, the frat jocks, just finished with their weightlifting, joined him.

Trevor, the frat president, approached Louis and mentioned that he had heard about Louis and Monique's tryst, adding that she had been quite, ahem, aroused. Anger surged through Louis at Trevor's disrespect, but Trevor continued, revealing that he had also slept with Monique just before Louis did, referring to her as a 'naughty little minx.' The rage within Louis grew, but Trevor slyly suggested that if they crossed their cocks now, they would officially become 'sword brothers' and have no need for animosity. Finding Trevor's dialogue incredibly crude, Louis was about to protest, but before he could retaliate, Trevor did the unthinkable. He forcefully pushed Louis against the shower wall, their manhoods—er, swords—crossing paths in a test of manliness.

In that moment, a surge of energy coursed through Louis, and the world began to spin. When Louis regained his senses, he was transformed. He looked 19 years old and had a toned, athletic body.

Both he and Trevor were at a loss for words. One of the other frat jocks suddenly shouted, "Brother over lover!" and they all cheered, exchanging high-fives. For Trevor, the situation was clear – Louis was now his little 'sword brother.' He grinned at Louis, eager to play the role of mentor, saying that he had always wanted a younger brother and that he would teach Louis everything he needed to know. Louis protested, reminding Trevor he was more than ten years older than him, but Trevor just grinned back, saying that Louis didn't look older anymore. In the locker room, Louis's wallet accidentally fell out of his locker, and his ID card slipped free. Both Louis and Trevor looked up simultaneously, and while Louis froze in shock, Trevor's grin widened. The ID card displayed Louis's transformed appearance, along with a revised birthdate — he was now 19 years old, three years younger than Trevor.

Trevor refused to see Louis as anything other than his little 'bro.' The other frat jocks immediately dressed Louis in a tracksuit and whisked him away to the frat house, determined to figure out what had happened.

They discovered that if Louis climaxed within the next 24 hours, his transformation would become permanent. And if the frat jocks were the ones to bring him to climax, not only would he remain transformed, but he would become a pledge as well. Trevor demanded that Louis surrender and climax, but Louis refused to comply. Trever was not willing to give up his new little brother. So, Trevor and some of the frat jocks grabbed Louis and Trevor started to pleasure him.

Trevor whispered seductively in Louis ear: "Just cum and become a pledge. I will mold you and you will be like me in no time." Louis tried to fight it; to be like Trevor was the last thing he wanted in the world. However, Trevor proceeded to pleasure Louis masterly and he felt that Louis was near to climax. Trevor shouted at Louis:" Shoot your load in my hand and become my willing pledge!" Louis couldn't resist anymore and came. 

Now a pledge, Louis found himself living the college experience he had once longed for.

Trevor treated him as a little brother, and though Louis initially resisted, he soon realized that this was his second chance in life. When Louis donned the first time the official frat suit he got to his surprise a boner.

Trevor smirked and said:" Perfect, your sword is already loyal to the frat and your mind will follow soon." And Trevor was right, soon Louis was looking up to Trevor and he wanted to be like him.

As Trevor completed his studies and moved out of the frat house, Louis was his perfect successor – an incredibly handsome, athletic, and desirable individual with brains and good grades - and a sex machine. Trevor was proud of his little sword-bro!

[obesogen]

The Back Room

contains: voyeurism in a public setting, degradation/humiliation (of the FA, not the fattie) fluids, Feeder/feedee, gender unspecified, 2nd person/reader insert if ya want

You are just an innocent bystander. This is not your fault.

It's Friday. You're out to dinner with a good friend at the fancy all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet in town.

Your buddy just put in their two weeks notice and you two you are celebrating in indulgent fashion. The plan is well underway when you can't help but notice a couple walk into the restaurant.

Well, one of them walks in. The other waddles.

The skinnier of them is about 5’8” or so. They appear somewhat haggard but strong, a works-with-their-hands type. Their companion is easily twice their weight and significantly shorter, a fluffy, soft marshmallow. They are wearing bike shorts that are catastrophically too tight, causing a hill of insistent chub to crest the waistband. The fabric of their shorts has been stretched so far as to become translucent. Silky arm fat bursts out of the strained crease of their crop top's armpit and side boob is dripping out of the bottom of it. Chunky calves threaten to envelop their proportionately delicate ankles and feet.

These two have to be a Feeder and feedee, they just have to be. You silently pray that they are because you're not at all sure you can stop trying to get a look, even if they're not.

The Feeder greets the beaming Host warmly and it is immediately clear that all three know each other well. The two of them must be regulars. You watch with mounting arousal as the Host and Feeder carefully lead the slow-moving feedee along the path of least resistance through the dining room. It takes a quick eternity for them to cross it gracelessly, through the tittering and disdain of fellow diners, unconcerned.

All the while, you're trying hard not to obviously, hungrily devour the stolen glimpses of swaying soft you catch out of the side of your eye while badly pretending to be listening to your friend. You're appalled by how sweaty and riled you are, how fast you were gripped with monstrous lust, all hunched and tense over half finished crab legs (or whatever you would eat. I would be eating crab legs). They disappear into the back room, usually reserved for parties.

You are by now having serious trouble hiding your predicament. You haven't even been pretending to pay attention for the last minute.

"Hello?! Anyone home?" your friend snaps their fingers in your face.

You laugh a little too quickly and make appropriate eye contact with them, flushed. You apologize sheepishly. You just got caught… off guard, you say. Momentarily. Sorry. "I bet, you fucking perv" they laugh at you pityingly, but not entirely unkindly. They know you have a type and that type is legendary. They know it's just so difficult for you to be painfully hard under the table pretending not to watch an enormous person struggle to walk 150 feet across an all-you-can-eat buffet. A horny mess like you can’t really be expected to listen to them talk about whatever shit Danielle in Accounting did last week. You couldn’t possibly stop imagining that stranger’s upper arm in your teeth for 20 seconds and let them finish a thought. You have never been able to be an appropriate amount of horny, how could they expect anything else from you. You eat your food in shameful, steaming silence.

Though the feedee remains behind closed doors out of your sight, you see their Feeder get up to start fixing plate (s) for them. By the time they return to the back room they're carrying 4 plates, balancing them expertly in fine dining style. The plates are laden with various treats which you definitely were not watching them lovingly select.

One plate is all fried: crispy egg rolls, spring rolls, crab rangoon, chicken wings, juicy fried pork and chive dumplings, scallion pancakes, the works. Various sauces.

The second plate is heaped with sticky sweet bbq ribs, sweet and sour chicken, a mountain of white rice, and a landslide of mixed veggies with a ton of extra baby corn and snow peas. Their feedee clearly has good taste.

Still another plate is all seafood: the aforementioned buttery snow crab legs, shrimp, steaming mussels, spiny little rock lobsters, clams… more shrimp, but tempura this time.

The last one isn't really a plate, its a bowl. The bowl is filled with vanilla soft serve (of course) and fresh fruit. Just for good measure, there's also two shiny, glazed roast pork buns balanced precariously on top. You bet a little bit of vanilla ice cream getting on a sweet, doughy pork bun is good as hell. No, you can’t be horny and hungry. You are already full and still have food. You are considering trying it though. Not to try to get a look, of course not, but just to get some dessert.

While you are deliberating and “talking” to your friend, you spy a busboy running towards the back room holding an extra-wide, high weight capacity folding chair. It's clear that this hefty cutie isn't their most comfortable on even the armless chairs that are as used to accommodating heavy people as any chair at a buffet should be. They still need something wider.

You’re dying in here. You need to wash your face and think of the least sexy things you can imagine: hairless plastic abs, taxes, etc. You excuse yourself to use the restroom and ask your friend if they want anything from the buffet on your way back.

“I want you to make sure you wash your filthy hands when you’re done, you useless degenerate” they snap. “C’mon, man, Jesus Christ—” you look around as you get up to see if anyone heard your friend, who has since lost all patience and good humor towards you and your inability to get it together.

You get up from the table and it’s as bad as you feared. You’re so aroused, not to mention full of crab legs, and just need to cool down long enough to make it home. Or at least to the car after you drop your friend off.

Your underwear is tight and rubbing your poor swollen dick. You’re so overstimulated that each step towards the bathroom is somewhat labored. Thankfully, labored movements toward the bathroom are not uncommon here so you fly under the radar for the most part.

You almost reach the bathroom door when out of the corner of your eye you realize that you suddenly can see them through the glass doors of the back room as you pass.

The Feeder is indeed lovingly in the midst of hand-feeding the feedee an egg roll dripping with sweet duck sauce. They have one hand under their feedee’s belly, which is pulled out of their shorts, nude and sumptuous under the long banquet table. It hangs heavy between their knees when fully unfurled with two massive lobes comprising the bottom of the apron and a pronounced dip in the center; 3 shaped.

You accidentally make eye contact with the feedee briefly, as you turn to enter the bathroom, sweaty and collapsing from fevered arousal. They just slowly lick their lips, staring into your very being, hungrily, menacing, devouring you with their eyes, daring you to keep looking.

You almost make it to the stall, but unfortunately for you,

You bust in your underwear, untouched, and now facing the long walk back to the table, wetly covered in yourself.

Worth it.

[mademoisellekalopsia]

An Itch to Hitch

|| CONTENT WARNING || Coursing of Arousal Level

Recalling those silent moments, where one would just want to shout into the abyss. When one with the kink would consciously and internally want to experience the very thing that would satiate, perhaps overflow their glass at an intense matter of circumstance.

Inducing would do such bliss, it would be enough, solely to subject themselves for it to happen, all on their own. Just imagining it sends a shiver down their spine just to feel, to hear, to see it unravel for their satisfaction. It won't take too long, hopefully. So then:

A quietly removed themselves out of bed, their yawn proving their lack of sleep. They headed down towards the open kitchen in their humble abode to start on their evening meal. It had been a long lazy afternoon, ought to move the muscles around. Rummaging of pots and utensils filled the room as A busied themselves with prepping a small dinner.

They hummed softly to themselves as they cook a light meal of crab and corn soup. A thought about the recent case they had, although it was months ago. How it jostled their entire middle torso, how they could control the volume and pacing at times, the feeling of drowning themselves into the feels, damn it all, they were getting distracted. Again.

A shook their head slightly, focusing on the cooking tasks in front of them, trying to push those thoughts to the back, sealed in a vault, figuratively. But the memories kept resurfacing, making it difficult for them to fully concentrate. They couldn't help but feel a subtle sense of arousal stirring within, even amid the kitchen preparations.

They took a moment to compose themselves, taking a deep breath. A reminded their other half that they needed to focus on the cooking, and not on the thoughts of inducing. But fwock, it was hard to ignore the images that kept popping up in their head. A continued to cook, their body growing ever warm with desire as the memories and thoughts lingered in their mind.

Distracting themselves did them any favor, that nagging and itching sensation would not go away. Perhaps they could find relief if they get a case, just for a few minutes. It was risky, but it might just give them the relief they craved.

They then quietly set aside the pot they were stirring from, turning off the stove for a moment. A reached into the pantry, rummaging around until they found something that would surely do the trick.

They grabbed a small liquid seasoning with spice bottle, hidden away in the back of the pantry. It was harmless spice with flavor, an item that they knew would trigger them. Of course, they will drizzle it over rice, silly of them to take it straight off the bottle.

Taking a deep breath, A unscrewed the cap, pouring a fair drizzle of the it onto the bowl of rice they prepped. Mixing it evenly, they took bite after bite. Chewing and swallowing the rice ever so quick and it would feel heavy as it slid down their throat.

"Mmmf-" They breathed momentarily before, "HMK!"

Immediately, a tingling sensation spread in their gullet, followed by the inevitable onset of hiccups.

"Mm…nnn…H'MUCK!"

A grimaced as the hiccups started to come, their body involuntarily jolting with each one. The sensations were a little stronger than they had anticipated, feeling vulnerable, but it was exactly what they needed in the moment. A leaned against the kitchen island, their breath hitching with each involuntary hiccup, the sensation both distracting and satisfying their internal craving.

Clutching their stomach as the hiccups continued, each one a gentle but firm reminder of the pleasure they were both seeking and resisting in the moment. Part of them wanted to revel in it, to give in to the sensations, but they knew they couldn't afford to linger for too long…

"Hirk!Hrmk!Hnk-GULK! Oof…"

A stood there for a few moments, letting the hiccups run their course, their body shaking and jerking slightly with each one. It was a strange mix of relief and discomfort, but damn, it was scratching that itch, giving it a brief respite from the internal battle.

Occassionally stifling a small groan or grunt as the hiccup episode came to an end. Their body relaxed slightly, the sensations slowly fading. They took a deep breath, trying to steady themselves before turning back to the stove, resuming the cooking as if nothing had happened.

It started again.

"Mmrk!-ooh…'scuse me…HIG'IRK!-HUCKLE-GRK!"

A said out of habit as they felt the familiar tingling sensation return to their throat. They tried to suppress it, but the hiccups flared up once more, stronger this time.

They clutched their stomach again, trying to muffle the sounds coming from their mouth. A's body shook and jerked with each involuntary hiccup; the sensations almost overpoweringly good.

A leaned against the counter, trying to stay upright as the hiccups continued. A groan escaped from their lips, the indulgence almost too much to contain. They couldn't help but feel both guilty and excited, the secret satisfaction of giving in to their desires mingling with the acknowledgment that they were playing a dangerous game.

They would lay both palms on their middle torso as it convulses, jostle, and jerk ever so quickly, it would drown them to arousal.

A's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions as they allowed their other half to give in to the sensations. They pressed their palms firmly against their middle, feeling the involuntary movements of the hiccups ripple through their body.

"HUCK’ULP!-MMLP!-buh." They sighed; a grunt followed. They left their mouth open slightly only to end with, "Mmm…hnn-HIRK!-sss-shucks..."

With each jerk and jolt, left speechless, they couldn't help the soft groan-moan that escaped their lips. Eventually, it subsided after a good long while, leaving an exhausted A content and knackered to do core. The capability to induce is too profound for them to possess, yet the pursuit of consciousness to do so at the ideal and appropriate moment should balance it all.

[lars-n-drix]

Light's brain had turned to mush with how engorged his cock had become. Blaming it n the exhaustion that came along with pretending he wasn't Kira. The perpetual chess game they were stuck in. It didn't help that he was handcuffed to the object of his affection. Correction, his carnal desire. In his lust-filled boredom, his gaze drifted downwards. Coming across the smooth lily-white skin of his feet. Flexed as they aided L's legs in holding his body weight. The fabric of his jeans bagging at the ankle. Curious to how it'd feel to have the ball of his foot rub along his shaft. 

None of this went unnoticed by L. The detective immediately picked up on his labored breathing. The flushed expression and his widen pupils. The final nail in the coffin was when he checked to see if there was a bulge in his pants. ‘So that’s what you look like when you’re aroused.’ Referring to the time before they met when L had Light’s house bugged with camera. Finally given the chance to call bullshit on how he failed to respond to playboy magazines. 'I'm not aroused, handcuffs are too tight,' Light lied. He pretended to scratch the skin underneath to sell the lie, not that it worked. 'Your boner would suggest otherwise.' L licked the bit of frosting off his lips, his words nonchalant. 'We're both men. Would just have to show me what you like.'

'Fine, but this means nothing.' 

'Why of course. You can go back to Misa afterwards and I'll act as if this never happened.'

Light sat in front of L on the glass table with his pants pooled around his ankles. Lost in euphoria that he forgot about the surveillance cameras. Something his counterpart did remember, L telling Watari to momentarily turn them off despite the belief that Light wouldn't be all that shameful about people watching. One foot held up to his mouth, lavishing spit around his toes. Some dripping down to his ankle. The other practically crushed his balls with the pressure. 'Y'know, I never pegged you as one to have a foot fetish. Or as someone that's into cock and ball torture.' His big toe & pinky toe moved upwards to the tip of Light's cock like a crab. A toenail dragging into the angry tip before the ball of his foot rubbed circles around it. 'Granted, I probably shouldn't be too surprised. Men who are always in control tend to need a submissive outlet.' L removed the foot from Light's mouth.

'Now let's see how tight your asshole is, shall we?' 

[randomwriteronline]

I care if an au or not, Sidorak/Roodaka where the duo are like an evil couple but Roodaka actually likes that dumbass.

The plan was very, very simple.

At the right time: get rid of the fool.

That was it.

Couldn't have been any easier. Truly, it was kind of embarrassing - for him of course, because he was so insignificant in the grand scheme of things that the end of his life was little more than a footnote in her plans, but also for her, because for a Vortixx of her cunning this lack of strategy was frankly laughable.

But she didn't want to expend her energies on coming up with something more complex when she was already so many steps ahead of him; and so she had endured the stupid arrogance with which he tried (failing) to hide his fearful respect of her and his yakking about having played such an important part in her schemes, and she had pretended to enjoy his talks of joining his side much closer as queen of the Visorak like she hadn't been unofficially covering that role ever since the Makuta had first assigned the horde to the two of them, and had faked the slightest interest and deference just so that silly little infatuation he couldn't disguise from her keen eyes would keep on blinding him to her machinations even just a little more.

At the very least, despite being a disastrous egocentric attention hog, he did have enough sense in him to recognize her as the one superior in brawn and brain between the two of them.

And yes, it was... Pleasant, to know he was attracted to her.

It made her sound so disgustingly shallow - like the specter of a lagoon half drained by toxic waste. But it wasn't as though Vortixx were very keen on paying attention to something as trivial as their bodies, with how similar they all looked! It was just not a detail one ever expected to draw any attention!

But that idiot had met plenty of her kind already and would very much keep seeing plenty more, and still continued to stammer specifically when she traced the edge of her chin with a finger when deep in thought, staring intently while holding his breath like he was being subjected to some new kind of torture. And it would have been a lie to say that it didn't make her feel... A little pleased. Mayeb even a little proud.

A little flustered.

Bah. No way. How perfectly foolish.

If she went down this line of thinking she'd risk turning too soft to get him out of the picture.

Which was never going to happen, of course.

Because she was the Visorak queen.

And Sidorak's.

Technically.

Not yet.

Formalities and whatnot.

She always kept that nonsensical notion at a distance, but there was no harm in indulging in the absurd picture it painted - giving her access to whatever chambers the Steltian had previously had all to himself without arousing any suspicion, permitting so many new and exciting ways to get him out of her path to total control... She had no need to disguise it either, since she would have inherited the power from him anyways, but what lousy excuse for an assassination doesn't have a subterfuge or two?

And while she indulged in these silly thoughts, Sidorak presented her plans as proudly as if he'd made them himself (which he always did), but slowly forgot to put his name in front of hers to get as much of the merit as possible.

Oh, he still included himself in her schemings of course. He had to look good, as a king and all.

He was still arrogant, and egocentric, and pompous, and a perfect imbecile; but Roodaka found him a little less eager to throw her under the Ussal crab, and ever more infatuated.

His offers for her to occupy a throne by his own were getting less formal, almost hopeful. He'd started to heat up when she grasped his snout in her hands (why'd she start to do that, by the way? Because seeing his eyes widen and a dopey grin spread lopsidedly on his face was somewhat endearing?) and she'd started to enjoy his renewed attentions and more vocal appreciation of her cunning brilliance.

By now she had him twisted around her claw. She was still planning to get rid of him, of course, but new possibilities had opened up: smitten as he was she could have easily puppeted him around to do her bidding without her needing to lift a finger, and she could have used him as bait or perhaps a distraction in case some hotheaded idiot thought of taking the horde from them... She could have laid back in total safety, pulling the strings from behind him without ever having to worry for her safety! He was so confused by his attraction that he had even agreed to let her do most of planning in his stead, since she was such a tactical genius, and he would have posed in the front to carry out her instructions just like a devoted king should...

Hm.

Hm!

Well. In the end, he might have been more useful alive than dead.

Roodaka came to that satisfactory conclusion with a pleased hum and a big smile, snuggling her snout further into Sidorak's neck. The Steltian hummed back fondly in his sleep as his arms gently tightened around her, which caused a flustered buzz to flutter within her heartlight.

She stared into the dark for a few more minutes.

Ah, cripes.

Turns out infatuation is a two-way street.

[daisys-reality]

gurl🤣 @kitxxb1ch let's start with diet... it also depends on what type they are - which is related to the climate/environment the mermaid lives in. They don't eat at all like we humans do, they could hardly digest most of the things we eat (processed, oily and sugary food etc). What they eat is very natural and organic, basically what they find in their environment! They definitely eat a lot of fish. Vegetarian diets are not really durable, as they need lots of protein especially when they swim long distances. The freshwater ones sometimes go for herbivore diet but it's not soo common i think. As you might know, mermaids are good hunters (fast and flexible like dolphins) and they most often hunt in groups. Except deep sea water mermaids, all other kinds usually live in pods. But back to the diet, seaweed is always a go to snacking option, kelp, kale, and wakame are extremely healthy and full of vitamins and proteins. But also crab/lobster/shrimp meat and all the different kinds of the local fish in their environment can be eaten (obviously all in raw form). I think those in tropical regions are also used to eating fruits every now and then.

regarding the other topic... is that so necessary for u to know before u shift there?🤣 I don't really wanna talk about 😭but ...ehm i'll do it but only very briefly 💀 if ur under the age of 16 please read some other posts .. pls :|

anyways so about the reproductive organs ... for mermen the p is internal and it emerges from a slit in the front side of the tail when aroused. For the female, as mentioned in the other post as well the opening is also in the frontal slit in between the pelvic fins. It is covered by large, flexible scales that are connected to the tail. This prevents water from flowing inside and causing infection. These flexible scales can be moved out of the way during the deed, and the p can be inserted there. The womb is located pretty much in the same place as for humans. Pls don't ask me for more info🤠

[ahamkara-apologist]

4 for Hornyween BUT with the challenge of no eliksni

YOU THINK ME ILL-FIT TO GIVE YOU ALIEN SEX HEADCANONS THAT IS NOT CRAB?! YOU THOUGHT WRONG MY GOOD ANON

4. What general Spicy Headcanons do you have?

-Non-Eliksni mating systems headcanon run go:

Uluru: Females have a pseudopenis with the opening to the vaginal canal midway down-> the base of the shaft, males have a long, thin, prehensile penis that they have pretty good control over specifically for snaking their way into this tight opening and curving around a sharp right turn in the vaginal canal for fertilization (this sharp right turn is to keep semen inside). They have a flare to provide stimulation + scrape out competator's semen and a medial ring to plug up the entrance of the vagina to prevent their own cum from leaking out during sex, as they mate standing up and facing each other (ofc, they have plenty of different sex positions, but this is the most 'vanilla' one). The testes on males are mostly internal until the mating season, after which they swell and drop down and look eerily similar to a human male's ballsack. Mating private or public: very much the fuck not public, excepting Calus. Uluru are extremely posessive of their mates, and stealing prime males is common, so the females at the very least do not like it

Psions: males form a spermataphore that they offer to a female via a spread of claspers, which the female takes with her own, matching set of claspers. Sex is like a very sticky handshake, and pleasure is achieved via the stroking and tangling of claspers over each other, often paired with psionic mindmelding so that they create a feedback loop of pleasurable experiences. Mating private or public: courtship public, mating private, psions often have a froglike, telepathic chorus that they use to pick out compatable mates, and once a partner is selected, they move off on their own to continue courtship in private

Lubraeans: Males have a semi-prehensile, corkscrewing shaft, females have a similarily corkscrewing vaginal canal that compresses to nearly nothing when she's not aroused, with an internal clitorus hidden in the inner walls that is responsible for the canal expansion as it swells with lymphatic fluid. This protects her from unwanted penetration, as mating comes after a violent, intense ritualized dance (more of a fight, really), where overeager males might attempt to mount preemptively and mate before she's actually made her decision. The semi-prehensile nature of the male phallic organ is a counterpoint to her natural defenses in that its structured so that males can initiate a very mild form of penetration to attempt to persuade her that yeah, he's the shit, she DOES want to fuck him, look what he can do just from teasing her like this, oh she wants to choose him as her mate sooooo badddd. Either way, lots of hard kicking is involved and males tend to have lots of scars gouged out of them from the female's spurs even if the male is a proper perfect gentleman, because mating often triggers an involuntary kick reflex and climax doesn't help to reduce that one bit. Heavily-scarred older males are thus considered with much more favor by females because those are the marks of a guy who can bring a girl to orgasm multiple times in one mating session and still not care that he's getting the shit kicked out of him bc of it. Mating public or private: Traditionally public, as a means for females to gauge the fitness of a male and for males to see how fit their rivals really were. Made private in the regime by extremists looking down on the 'primitive' ways of the wandering tribes, though male mating scars could never be shaken as a mark of favor

(Rhulk didnt have any scars even before becoming a disciple because he was an incel virgin who was too creepy and revenge-driven to ever successfully mate)

The Hive: Have a bedbug-esque system where fertilization occurs by a knight's penis (which is really more of a sharp chitin spike that exposively detonates from its sheath, stabbing deep into anything in front of it) lancing through the abdomen of a wizard to fertilize her eggs. Hitting the area where the vulva usually is right off the bat would be ideal, but not required for fertilization, even if it is required for the wizard to be able to lay (the entire vaginal passage is sealed off with layers of tissue, specifically with the purpose of being lanced). Mating is very much public, as mates are chosen by a newly-morphed wizard initiating a mating flight followed by a mating fight, in which only the best knights can capture her*, and only those who are able to capably subdue her and mate her are seen as worthy enough to be her partner. Some knights are capable of getting their sperm in by lancing her through the side as she fights them, but usually only those who can fully pin her and pierce open her vaginal passage end up being her long-term mate and romantic partner- which is solidified by the knight always having a major head start in catching her next time her mating flight occurs, or she allows him to kill off other suitible bachelors beforehand, which is severely frowned upon if its her virgin flight. The semen of a knight prevents tissue growth when it comes into contact with hormones present in the vaginal canal, allowing her to lay when the time comes- which is very soon post-fertilization, but is still required because abdominal wounds heal very quickly when in estrus. Wizards are also incapable of properly feeling pain from wounds to the abdomen during this time

This seems violent, but if you don't properly fight to fully subdue a wizard, you're deemed as unfit to mate, and she will kill you. The chase and the fight IS the foreplay in this instance

*Note: 'her' and 'him' are used very liberally here, because the Hive do not follow the same gender protocols that we do

[avtvmnalvibes]

Fallin’ For Ya

A/N: Hi y’all!! This is my first fic I’m posting to tumblr. I have my AO3 account in my bio, and you can find all my previous fics + this one posted there. Shoutout to @dopp-likes-yanderes because one of the asks on their blog inspired this fic this past May, and it’s been sitting half finished in my google docs account from now until today. Thank you for giving me your blessing to post this!! Also note that I’m on mobile so if anything is formatted really weird that’s the culprit. Happy Valentine’s Day everybody!!

CW: female!reader, biblical references, Philip being a Puritan

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Philip Wittebane was seething.

His day had started out as it normally did these days. Go to the market, limp about, look pathetic in hopes of finding some abominable creature to trick into being his sacrifice. It had taken a turn for the worse however when the brother’s of that disappointment Blue Fang had shown up and demanded both payment and information, taking his journal and taunting him. He kept up the act, inwardly calculating whether they could be reasoned with or tricked, or whether or not he could kill them without repercussions, when he had been saved by a foolhardy young witch who was oddly eager to accompany him. Her knowledge of the Collector made her easier prey then he ever could have hoped for, and he had decided that things were finally coming up Wittebane, when suddenly.

“…and this is my Aunt uh….Dirtrude and uh-“

“(Y/N) will do just fine, Luzura.”

He felt something creep up his spine, both pleasant and unpleasant, turned his gaze slightly to the side, and felt his mouth fall open.

Caleb was laughing from beyond the grave, he knew it. In fact, if he didn’t know any better, he would say that Caleb had orchestrated this, some supernatural, eternal, annoying older brother ability to push him to his limits. Because there, in front of him, stood the most gorgeous creature he had ever seen in his life. Pure temptation, the likes of which he had only heard in sermons and in his brother’s voice when he talked about her.

Hence the seething.

He listened to ‘Luzura’ chatter on about something about crabs, or toe-gres, or something else of little consequence compared to the emotions he was trying to keep at bay. He was NOT like Caleb. Caleb had been weak, he had succumbed to temptation, fornication, and witchcraft. Philip was a good, God-fearing man, who would take a HUMAN wife, thank-you-very-much and be fruitful with HER.

His internal rant was broken up by a shriek, and he came to as someone crashed into his back. Hands clutched onto his chest and back, perfume filling the air, and he pushed down the sharp, breath-catching arousal that came with the feeling. He turned around sharply, gripping her waist with aggression, hard enough to bruise, and was stopped short before he could react in any way shape or form.

Her kerchief, the one that had been tied round her head, had slipped in her fall, and had revealed her ears.

Her round ears.

He finally allowed the attraction that he had been fighting back to flood his body, and he felt his blood coursing through his veins, warming him and turning his brain foggy as he stared at the woman, the human woman in front of him. The very sensations he had been attempting to drown out just seconds ago were allowed back. The feel of her body, warm beneath his, the scent of her. He had never been so aroused in his entire life, and all he could do was internally crow to his brother, to beyond the grave.

“See? I can only be tempted by a human woman! You who so quickly gave into a mistress of Satan, a follower of the Devil, but not me!”

His focus was returned by the sound of her voice, her face so close to his that he could feel her breath across his face and neck.

“Oh, Mr. Wittebane, are you alright? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to grab you like that, I-“

“Don’t trouble yourself for one second Miss (Y/N), I assure you, I am not in the least bit angry.”

She seemed taken aback at this, and tilted her head to the side.

“….You’re not?”

He grinned, giddier than he ever had as a boy, and wound his arms tighter around her waist, pulling her close to him and delighting in the way her face flushed and breath quickened.

“On the contrary! My dear Miss (Y/N), I have but one question; why didn’t you tell me that you too were human?”

She paled, one hand darting up to cover her ear, and he found that he quite preferred her flustered to frightened.

“I’m terribly sorry for deceiving you Mr. Wittebane but, well…you know better than anyone how hard it can be for a human on the Boiling Isles. Besides, we didn’t know whether you would take kindly to another human…so we elected that it was best to hide it.”

We…we? Oh! Right. He’d been so enraptured that he’d forgotten that they had company. He looked over to their other traveling companions and found that they had reassured themselves of her well-being when he had caught her and had begun to amble ahead, moving slowly so as not to leave them behind.

“I understand Miss (Y/N). You’re quite right of course; I know the trials a human on the Boiling Isles faces all too well. I must confess to being a tad offended that you could think me hostile towards other humans, however the logical side of me understands your caution and finds it prudent.”

She turned her face up to him, her chin resting on his chest as she faced him fully, and he felt something within his chest clench. Dear God…

“Your forgiveness is deeply appreciated Mr. Wittebane.”

“Philip. Please.”

He spoke before he could stop himself, words spilling over his lips, which he clamped shut before any more of the contents of his heart and mind could be revealed.

He saw a flush rise up her cheeks, and felt one of his own creep up to match, heart pounding desperately in his chest she had to have felt it given her proximity.

“Alright Mr.- Philip. Then you must call me (Y/N). No ‘Miss’ in front of it. Just (Y/N).”

He grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles and lingering, savoring the moment as if it was the last meal he would ever receive.

“(Y/N)….it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

She exhaled shakily, eyes wide and lips parted, and Philip Wittebane swore he’d never seen a more beautiful sight. Like Adam before Eve, he had never felt such an assured sense of belonging to someone in his whole life.

“Hey, are you guys alright back there? You’ve been standing still for like, 10 minutes.”

He turned his head to look behind him, and saw Luzura staring at them with an expression of concern on her face, Dirtrude next to her still scribbling away in her little notebook and muttering something about ‘Deadwardian Balustrades’.

“We’re just fine Luz,”

(Y/N) called out, and he took a great deal of satisfaction in the breathiness of her voice.

That satisfaction was quickly replaced by disappointment and annoyance as she left his hold and his arms, though he was reassured slightly by her catching his arm as she walked past, holding onto the sleeve of his coat as they walked side by side.

“So…Philip. How much longer until we get to where we’re headed?”

Luzura’s voice piped up. For a moment Philip prepared to create the transportation circle of glyphs, body several steps ahead of him, when suddenly, he did what he was best at; he thought. And in this brief moment of thought, his mind stalling his body before he could move to scratch a single glyph into the dirt beneath his feet, he came up with a plan. It was a little rushed admittedly, and less a full fledged plan as much as it was a little subterfuge that he would use to shape the rest of the events that followed into the result he desired, but still. When the result would be marrying the woman he was increasingly sure was the yoke mate that William Whately had described in his sermon The Bride Bush, how could he resist enacting it?

“Oh dear! The time we spent lingering back there has cost us. I’m afraid we won’t make it before nightfall.”

Everyone’s faces morphed into varying degrees of horror and dismay.

“But it’s not safe to travel during the night! And we’re too far from Bonesborrough to head back now!”

Dirtrude’s voice was shrill with panic, eyes darting around as if she could see imaginary creatures swooping in and carrying them off as they attempted to travel safely. Perfect.

“Thankfully, I’ve explored these stretches of woods many times before. I know a safe place to spend the night nearby. I often find I’d rather risk the cruelty of nature as opposed to that of the townspeople.”

The whole party looked at him in pity, and he felt a thrill as (Y/N) laid her other hand on his shoulder, drawing his attention to her as she gazed up at him.

“How far away is this place?”

“Not far. A little ways behind us, but not enough that we shan’t reach it before the sun sets, and not so out of the way that it will inconvenience us when we get our start tomorrow.”

(Y/N) looked around at her companions, conferring silently with them until she nodded and turned her attention back to him.

“Lead the way then Philip.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Philip wrote in his journal, his work illuminated by the fire they had set for warmth. His description of (Y/N) was coming along nicely, her temperament and mannerisms unfolding easily beneath his pen.

He looked over to his side, and saw her face illuminated by the fire, resting and peaceful.

“Soon neither of us shall have to worry about any danger the Boiling Isles have to offer.”

He muttered, as he began a few detailed sketches of her. Her as she lay beside him now, her blushing as she looked up at him, her face broken out into a smile.

“Bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh.”

Never before had the meaning of the Word of God seemed so clear to him. William Whately’s words rang through his head once again, his teachings on the virtues necessary for marriage striking a chord beyond the academic and theological interest he had once observed the sermon with.

“We’ll find our way home (Y/N), don’t fret. Once I’ve rid this world of evil, I’ll be able to take you home to Gravesfield and marry you.”

He blew gently on the ink to dry it, observing her likeness fondly as he turned to gaze upon the real thing. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Sweet dreams my love.”

[furrbbyx]

somno vine (unedited)

**Note: I go to 1200 words before I realized that "sister" is going to run off some people. I mean it in the way that religious sisters speak about each other, or like...sisterhood. This isn't incest coded. But I can't stop you from thinking what you want.

Inspired by my brain and what I think is happening in my own garden. The passion fruit plant has had very sleepy effects on the ants, so much that I find them napping all over the plant. I think ants work until they die, so it's kid of funny to see them not working, and napping!

I love that. And I thought it would be a fun sexy story to have an alien insect race get seduced by an alien foliage with vines and there's a relationship between the insect girls and the plant by which the ladies are attracted to the thick fleshy nodes on the leaves that have arousing drowsy effects. The ladies help spread pollen all over the huge flowers, the vines fuck them and keep them kind of addicted, eventually seducing most of the tribe. This relationship has been establish in the tribe's lore, but it's been so long since the plant has been seen that the ladies forgot. The plant ends up boosting the longevity and healing of the ladies.

I want to write a story about the effect of a calming substance secreted by a predatory vine on an alien planet. The prey are a race of insect monsters that are probably  a cross of spider and crab-taurs. 4 facial eyes, 4 legs on their torso and two further up like shoulders. They can walk with their bellies and breasts face the the ground and rear up to look more like centaurs. They are  completely the same sex and gender but some have sex organs that extend and some have soft cuticular layers covering the bursa copulatrix.

They are thick big bodied and large, mega fauna on a tropical forest planet. They have lived on the planet in caverns all through the vast tropics since the dawn of time. The plant, which is spread by solar winds across the universe has not been seen in recently memory. Over a few weeks some of the girls have gone missing, and soon it's too obvious to ignore. The sentinels are not at their posts guarding the hive, scouts are over sleeping and abandoning their missions never to be seen again, and the once noisy and communal caverns are empty except for a few drowsy drones. Sisters slumped in archways and on top of each other in the paths as if boneless, appearing oddly satiated.

Runga, an archivist for the race, notices all of this and goes to investigate.

approx 1600 words

NSFW, non humans getting tentacle/vine fucked and having orgies amongst themselves. AFAB insect creatures x non gendered plant alien. Mentions choking and restraint. Also there is substance use mention, an aphrodisiac that makes the ladies horny and sleepy.

Do Not copy, Do Not reproduce.

She finds the vine wrapped around a native tree stretching far into the canopy. When she gets there a few of her sisters call out, intoxicated, happy to see another sister succumb to the plant, and then Runga sees and hears what's going on.

Everyone being fucked and fucking the others. The pollen floating through the air making it hazy and orange. Sisters strung up by the vines suspended and moaning wantonly as their bodies are used an abused by the vines. Some look like they are sleeping in the leaves and under the sepals, some are mouthing the pliant mounded nodes and filling their mouths with the viscous aphrodisiac as if they are mindless.

The air is thick with the smell of the flowers, ejaculate, and the fruits that are beginning to form.

Runga climbs up the tree to the group of sentinels who called to her earlier. She's greeted with cheers from the group and they gather around her. Most of them have larger bodies because of nature things. Runga is addressed by the group's leader and the leader Aesi immediately comes on to the smaller sister. The group closes in and they bully Runga, pull off her bandeau and feed her some of the plant substance.

They also begin to play with the the vines while Runga comes up, but they become so distracted she's able to climb away and deeper into the canopy.

Runga comes upon another sentinel tangled in the the leaves and branches who's being milked and pleasured so much that she seems to be completely submissive to the vines. This is when she realizes that the plant has some ability to chose to pursue the tribe's women and satisfy them sexually. She begins to suspect they are being prayed on and she tries to remember what the old tales and songs revealed about the alien plant. But while she's doing that she also watching that sentinel girl get drained by the vines.

Runga climbs higher as the altitude and the pollen and the substance begins to work on her. She more sisters resting, draped all over the leaves and as she gets closer to the sunlight she notices the pollen getting thicker, buds and fully open flowers. More sisters are writhing all over the flowers spreading the fecund pollen over the plant's reproductive organs.

While exploring, and trying to avoid the the vines which are much more insistent now, she slips and finds her self pressed against a budding flower by the vines. The bud seems to be perfectly textured for Runga to rub her soft cuticular layers all over. It's covered by thick leathery casing with vertical raised bumps and between those are some immature nodes that aren't able to secrete, but they feel really good to rub against. Runga writhes against the bud as the vines tighten around her neck and her nipples. Her senses have been enhanced and she feels lazy and sleepy. She takes her time and uses what little ability she does have to pay attention to the way the vines seduce her.

Runga started early and now the second sunrise has come and gone before she begins to think about a way to escape. The vines aren't as attentive now that she's sated so it's surprisingly easy. Runga suspects the vines are preoccupied somewhere else and she takes advantage by climbing out of the vines' embrace and heading down to the roots.

The roots are not so far down, and since she arrived by a vine she had no map of the plant to go by and was surprised by the bulbous roots poking up from the soil at the base of a single thick stalk. Runga climbs over the tuberous roots and the stimulation from her legs causes the plant to pulsate and twitch and Runga watches in lusty fascination as a bulge travels up the root, then the stalk, spreading up into the nodes and causing them to plump up and start to glisten with aphrodisiac. She experiments and causes it to happen again, which causes more of the sister's moans to fill the air.

Runga decides it's time to explore the rest of the plant and finally makes her way up into the canopy where the heart of the activity seems to be. There are many more sister here where the leaves are large enough to support orgies of them, and of course more of the wide round flowers to lounge and sleep.

There are sisters ass up with tendrils of the plant pumping into their bursa copulatrix. Some are lazily and explicitly slurping at the fat turgid green nodes, and tonguing them back and forth, absolutely entranced by the substance. Runga watches unable to look away as a group of sisters work on another group who have been tied down by the vines, pressed and spread into the perfect positions. 

Aesi was being force fed a thick pulsing tendril and vines had pinned her to a leaf where she was being mounted by another smaller sister who'd positioned herself under the sentinel and was pumping mindlessly into Aesi's quivering body. Many other sister's were in her same situation, being tended to by the vines and the sisters.

Stumbling forward Runga finds herself kissing a tribeswoman, Khedi, a lover of hers in the past. She can't hold back from the effects of the plant anymore. She sucks at Khedi's large breast along with another sister licking the nipple of her other breast. Runga's vision is filled with the sight of Khedi's copulatrix being pumped full of tendrils, a third joins the two already deep in her guts causing a gush of girl cum to splash Runga's face. Khedi moans loudly as her body goes rigid throughout her orgasm and Runga rubs her soft cuticular layers along Khedi's torso. The vines exit Khedi's spent limp body  with a wet creamy sound and slither up to Runga who gratefully rolls over and lets the plant take care of her, lets herself relax, and sleep and wake up to the most delicious pleasure she or her tribe has ever had.

This goes on for a week or two until the cycle of the plant is finished and it is no longer fruiting. The tribe collects some of the fruits and makes them into products they will share with the other societies of their kind at the yearly gathering. She and he sisters have rediscovered the health benefits of the relationship with the alien vine. Longevity and fast healing has been their blessing for helping the plant reproduce and they decide to share the blessing and help to plant more of them across the planet.

Runga has written much about the encounter and has been able to corroborate her experience with the narratives in the memory archives of her people. She still dreams of the days of orgies, often waking up and pleasuring herself so much that she would be tired the next morning. The sisters were closer and more in tune with each other as well. Thriving like never before.