#as always MWAH <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[prince-of-orchids]

Oh to be part of your security detail as we travel to and from a neighboring kingdom. We stop to make camp during the journey. Oh to volunteer myself when you say you'd like some privacy to wash in the nearby stream. We can't have you *completely* alone, now can we. What if some big, strong beast got ahold of you. You'd be utterly defenseless. Worry not, your majesty, I shan't leave your side, loyal as I am, but I dare not peek.

Following you deeper into the woods, casting my eyes towards you as you undress in the moonlight. Watching your skin glisten with drops of water in the dark. I can hardly control myself. I think of the fairy tales that speak of beautiful nymphs who bathe in ponds and streams and curse those that lay eyes upon them. I wonder, if you caught me gawking, what my punishment would be.

-🪓

The neighboring kingdom is thankfully but a few days of travel away. And yet it still didn't take long for the hours and hours of travel to create an uncomfortable layer of sweat and grime. We've already stopped to make camp for the night, so surely it is of little issue to excuse myself to the nearby stream and clean up a bit. The safty-minded protest from the knights of my entourage is nonetheless to be expected, and your choice to volunteer even more so. You wear discipline well, and yet I'm sure I'm not the only one who's noticed the way you always make your way to my side while we're on horseback, or how at night you place your bedroll just a tad closer than a respectful distance. All under the guise of simple, dutiful protectiveness of course, anything else would be quite the scandal.

My gait is confident as I walk ahead, never needing to turn and reassure myself of your presence. The stream itself is serene, with only the light rush of water breaking the silence. Without prompting you've decided to stand vigil by the treeline, far enough to give some sort of privacy but close enough to respond quickly should there be danger. I reiterate the terms of this supervision to you, and of course you assure me that your attention lies solely on keeping a watchful eye on our surroundings.

It takes a few minutes to divulge myself of all my cloth layers. Typically, some attendant would be available to assist, and as I fumble with the numerous zippers and ties I'm almost tempted to call you over. But I don't. You've pushed the boundaries of your station before, harmoniously fitting your desires right along your unwavering loyalty. And so I wait for whatever snapping twig or rustling leaves causes you to shift your gaze in my direction under the guise of assuring my safety. Already I've twice noted the cursory sweep of your eyes.

The stream is deep enough to allow me to brefily dip under, then to rise back up and push the hair from my face. Thankfully the water is a comfortable temperature, borderline heavenly after days on the road. I happily hum as I cup the water in my hands and letting it run down my arms and chest. Stretching to expose the contours of my body as I run another pass of water through my hair with a sigh of relief. You know as well as I that I've never seen a hard day of work. Thus my skin remains a smooth pale canvas, only now dotted with shining droplets that reflect the bright moonlight and faint dappled shadows from the overhanging trees.

With just the rightly timed turn of my head I look to you. Oh yes I've seen you before with open eyed devotion before, just as I've seen half-lided lust. But there's a certain sense of wonderment there now that I can't help but ponder the source. A rabbit you say, just missed it as it ran beneath the brush, and you turn away as if that was enough to excuse being caught staring.

I was just finishing up anyway, and I trek back to the sides of the stream. I request a helping hand with redressing, and you give a slight satisfied smile as you approach. I let you drink your fill, eyes languidly moving across my body. When I ask you to kneel you do so with instinctual quickness. When I ask for you to remove the upper portions of your armor you follow through with purpose. When I tell you to lay back in the soft dirt there's a second of hesitancy before you're supine below me.

How interesting that you follow these directions with ease and yet earloer you could not avert your eyes for more than a minute despite my clear request. I am still a being of indulgence, and so I shall free you from your trousers and set myself delicately upon you. I've just cleaned up after all and it would be a shame to ruin that effort by frotting in the dirt. Having you beneath me with your hands at my hips for stability ensures I will remain as spotless as possible. And then I'd like you to take one last look because you're to keep those handsome eyes firmly shut.

You disobeyed before, and nows your chance to prove to me you can be trusted once more. You can touch any bit of skin you can reach, feel the rocking and tensing of my body around you, and hear every pleased gasp that escapes my lips. But no looking. I may greedily take in every facial expression and shifting of your body, I may even kiss it if I'm feeling so inclined. However, you must forgo those same privileges, and be satisfied with whatever touch or sound I'm willing to ground you with.

You roughly buck your hips with more purpose, seeking to press as much as yourself against me. To feel the warmth of the skin you can't see. It pleases me to see how you shift your head side to side. Unsure if you should lean away to expose your neck further to the biting kisses I place alone your throat, or to try and lean towards me and clumsily attempt to capture my lips with your own. Occasionally you'll feel the ghosts of my hands as they glide across your chest and your navel. They never stay long, always feeding into your constant anticipation as they lift up to find purchase elsewhere.

Will you still prioritize my safety, dear knight? To stretch your senses to the forest beyond, warey of outsider footsteps or the unshethijg of a weapon. Or will you instead fully yield yourself to what pleasure you can gather from my presence here?

[triona-tribblescore]

Liked this little warm-up doodle, drawing him peeved is kinda fun 😔✨(this was on his 15 min break)

[l3viat8an]

Mammon waking you up by going down on you (with prev consent ofc) or you waking Mammon up with a BJ >_<

Nsfw!

Honestly thought this posted already- cuz it was supposed to be in queue for Mams birthday jsksjsk

I feel like that would happen all the time after you start dating Mammon! I mean he just can’t get enough of you and it is a rather nice way to wake up~

And really some mornings he gets so needy and you look so sweet laying there next to him that he just can’t keep his hands or lips off of you.

At first Mammon was just planning to kiss you, a few kisses down your neck and chest wouldn’t hurt right?- then he starts going lower, moving your clothes out of the way so he can keep kissing your skin, down across your chest and tummy and somehow he ends up between your legs… oops~

You wake up slowly, your mind groggy with sleep and pleasure as your eyes open and all you can see of your boyfriend is a lump under the covers. But as soon as you wake up and start grinding your hips to meet his face a little harder Mammon grabs your hips to pin you back down. At the same time he lifts his head to look up at you, which makes the covers fall back a bit so you can see his face, (his hair is an absolute mess too but that’s not super important :D) a crooked little smirk on Mammon’s face as he sits up enough to press a few more soft and wet kiss across your tummy. Mumbling out “Mornin’ darlin’.” against your skin before he goes right back to what he was doing- making you cum on his face-

He thinks its cute how you try to prop yourself up a bit on your elbows to look down at him and enjoy the show, chuckling to himself as he sucks on your clit just right, that it has your head rolling back and you have to plop right back down onto the pillows because it felt that good.  After all he knows all your sweet spots.

Neither of you talk much but Mammon would praise you for being so good and cummin’ for him, ya should let him take care of ya more often~

Sooo of course it’s only right that you ‘repay him’ wake him up head the next morning.  

Again not hard Mammon almost always has ‘morning wood’ when you sleep in the same bed.

While you’re under the covers tease his tip a bit -trust me- before taking his cock all the way into your mouth.

As soon as you start Mammon’s awake and you can hear all his breathlessly, little moans of “Yea~” and “Oh fuck, yes darlin’, just like that” I’m telling you he can’t keep his mouth shut- “S-shit- Don’t stop fuck.” and even more, “Please- Yea, like that, faster.”

There is a special something -not quite tenderness but that’s the closest word you can think of- to Mammon in these moments. Even as you have his cock in your mouth, even as he groans under his breath and his legs tense. Even as he grabs a handful of your hair and gently pushes you down a little bit to see if you can take him even further down your throat, he’s not trying to be mean but he loves it when you gag on him. Making him moan even louder “Shit- So fuckin’ g-good treasure.” as he cums down your throat.

Maybe it’s the way he smooths over your hair as you swallow his cum. Or maybe it’s the way he starts to pull you up to lay your head on his chest and wraps his arms around you as tightly as he can immediately after. It’s all done with care, as if you’re the most precious thing in his room. And of course to him you are.

(Although if you wanna tease Mammon a little more instead- sit up before he can pull you up and let the covers pool around you as you make a show of licking the last few drops of his cum off your lips ;))

[sincerelybubbles]

could you write something where the reader is listening to reid going off on his tangents and when he gets insecure, just straight up saying. "no, go on. i like the sound of your voice." ? ty! 🤍

Don't shut up // no warnings as far as i can tell? lmk if not <3 pure fluff!! ty for the request <333

"They usually called her the Limping Lady but there's really no way to tell how many pseudonyms she used," Spencer is saying, dragging his hand through your hair where you lay on his lap, His other hand is busy grasping at the air while he talks.

"Because of the prosthetic leg?" You ask, urging him to continue talking. You're nearly asleep, eyes heavy and chest loose with the comfort of his proximity.

"Yeah. She actually nicknamed it 'Cuthbert' when she got the wooden prosthetic. It's actually pretty interesting - people have been using prosthetics for a really long time. We don't know exactly when people started using them in modern medicine, but the first evidence we can find of them dates all the way back to ancient Egypt where they found a prosthetic toe."

The documentary Spencer put on over an hour ago about World War II has long since been paused, Netflix's blinking "Are you still watching?" hovering uselessly on his laptop screen. He paused it ages ago to discuss the inaccuracies about Hitler's past, then Italy's involvement in France and the parallels between the almost French famine and the Irish famine, leading him to Virginia Hall.

All in all, you're in heaven. He's been stroking your hair, blunt nails scratching every so often, voice rumbling through his chest and stomach where your ear presses against. He's talking calmly, even, if not slightly rushed, like he can't wait for even a breath to keep telling you about everything he knows.

"I just want you to know all of the things I know, too, you know?" He told you once when you urged him to slow down. He's learned to take his time with you, eventually, realizing that you're not waiting for your opportunity to jump in. You don't spend your time with Spencer figuring out when it'll be your turn to talk next; instead, you lull in the comfortable space of listening while knowing he'll return the favor the moment you have something to say.

"Sorry, are you trying to sleep? I can shut up and turn the movie back on," Spencer says suddenly, hand stilling in your hair.

You open your eyes slightly to find him looking down at you, lip caught between his teeth, a hesitant look in his eyes.

Spencer doesn't often get insecure like this around you - you've spent plenty of time convincing him that there's no need - but moments like this still happen. You suppose it's a natural product of constant teasing and bullying through childhood.

"I don't mean to ramble," he mutters when he catches your eye.

"No," you say, interrupting him and reaching up to brush your fingers across his cheekbone and up to his eyebrows. "No, Spence, I literally love the sound of your voice. Please, keep going."

You watch him melt, afraid for a moment that his liquid brown eyes will start to water. You make a concerned noise, about to sit up and comfort him further, when his hand moves to press down on your collarbones. He holds you in place as he looks at you for a second, heated gaze causing you to feel warm. Slowly, he bends to press a kiss on each of your eyelids, right below your eyebrows. He rests his lips on the bones there for a few moments before moving to the next.

"I love you," he murmurs, the truth of the statement oozing out too sincerely to ignore.

He doesn't give you a moment to breathe before diving right back into his explanation of how ancient prosthetics were integrated into modern medicine, hand resuming its path in your hair and voice slowly bringing you to a calm half-nap.

[obsob]

bedtime story with my love !!

[nekrosmos]

They're going on a date 👍​

[borgialucrezia]

— We will figure it out, okay? Just like we always do.

[stevebabey]

The drip in the roof of the trailer is what wakes Steve.

A steady plink! of water meeting wood somewhere above them. It always leaks a little in the trailer after it rains, like a gentle metronome of fat raindrops sneaking inside the cracks. While it used to annoy him, Steve just finds it soothing now.

The curtains Eddie had poorly shut the night before are askew just an inch, letting through a sliver of sunlight. A beam sneaks through, makes the room glow, walls painted golden. Steve revels in it and it’s warmth; lets out a yawn and stretches like a big cat, giving a soft groan as he does.

His elbow knocks into Eddie’s side as he does and Steve feels the familiar rush in his chest, fond affection filling every vein— and he loves it.

He loves that momentarily forgetfulness born from his sleepiness, where he forgets that he gets to wake up with someone by his side. Wake up next to Eddie, no less.

Steve loves it, adores it, because really what it means is he gets to remember it every morning.

He gets to roll closer and poke Eddie gently on the cheek, a small smidge of him just wanting to check if he’s real. If this, this love, is real and his. Eddie lets out a groggy groan, buries his face further in the pillow. Steve grins. Yep, he’s real.

Eddie makes another groggy noise and this time pulls his face out of his pillow slowly. He looks like a disgruntled cat, hair still stuck to his cheek, some small patch of drool left on the pillow. Eddie makes a soft ‘hmph!’ and one hand reaches up, wiping across his face lazily. His eyes peek open.

And as much as Steve loves his own secret moment in the morning, it’s blown out of the water by this every time — the moment Eddie sees him. Brown eyes see him and Eddie just softens. Like butter in the sun. Sinks further into his pillow and smiles, sleepy and wonderful.

Normally, they both let sleep comes and go, drifting across the sheets in half-hearted cuddles that Steve melts for every time. Today, Eddie’s smile grows into a happy grin. Then his hands are stretching out and he’s making small grabby hands across the sheets, urging his boyfriend over.

“C’mere,” he says, hands finding Steve’s side and pulling him, soft. “Gimme.”

Steve grins, heart flip-flopping. Goes without any resistance, shifting to snuggle up to Eddie, tucking up and under his chin as Eddie’s does his best to scoop him up in his arms. It’s warm. Eddie’s pulse is a small comfort to Steve as he rests his head upon Eddie’s chest, hands curled around his middle, thumbing at soft scar tissue. Thump-thump-thump, Eddie’s heart says, and Steve can somehow easily read the love in it; his stomach turns again, in a dizzy elated way.

“Mm, birthday boy,” Eddie hums, but he’s still so sleepy that birthday sounds more like birfday. Steve feels his heart jump in surprise — a moment in which he’s baffled Eddie knows. That Eddie remembers. The last couple birthdays… well, he hadn’t been friends with Robin til after his birthday in ‘85 and then, well, with everything in ‘86… It’s been awhile since someone has remembered is all.

He doesn’t mean to sound as surprised he does when he murmurs, “You remembered?”

Eddie hums again, a sweet loving noise. His arms around Steve tighten and Steve feels his heart keen when his lips brush across Steve’s temple. A gentle kiss is pressed there. It feels like everything he needs — this quiet small moment of wonder, a tiny moment of tenderness, just for Steve. He presses his own kiss back, lips against Eddie’s collarbone.

“S’look,” Eddie continues, dragging his arm off Steve to point somewhere on the wall. Steve follows his gaze and then— there it is, on Eddie’s calendar. Circled in red is April 29th. It’s covered in sloppy hearts, so much there’s no room for any word other than ‘Steve!!’ in the middle; his birthday. Marked so Eddie would remember, wouldn’t even dare the chance to forget it.

Eddie drops his arm, returning it to where it was, hooked over Steve’s side so his hand can run soothing soft touches down his back. He sighs again, another sleepy noise, and Steve could probably cry.

“Precious birthday boy, mm,” Eddie mumbles lovingly. “Lovely precious birthday boy,” he warbles on, voice gooey enough that Steve know he means it. Actually thinks that— that he’s precious, and lovely, and everything more. “What d’ya wanna do t’day?”

Steve tightens his cuddle and whispers, “Just this.”

He can feel Eddie’s grin, in response, and then there’s another kiss to his head. Just this. It’s the complete truth.

[sophsun1]

Charmed – 3.21: Look Who's Barking

[ashleyslorens]

📹: kristenaissance

[pup-pee]

SO I MIGHTVE GOTTEN A BIT INSPIRED BY THIS POST

[yi3248]

ive already lived my life without you (is it okay to want you?)

the ghoap animatic that has occasionally haunted my files is finally done!!! (albeit with choppy timing lmao)

[triona-tribblescore]

Really quick doodle of @rufwooff 's sillies uvu <3 been thinking about them non stop for days now-

Mikeys a lil slippery guy heheh

[teddybeartoji]

imagine satoru losing himself as he fucks you !! im talking choking up, hiccuping, crying and whining and whimpering because of unfair it is that you feel so good on his dick !! poor thing has tears dripping down his cheeks, his hand intertwined with yours as he begs and pleads with you so cutely like the adorable little angel boy that he is

“pleasepleaseplease baby, wanna love you like this, wanna have you all the time, s’ not fair”

“can I cum in you?? wanna give you my cum all the time don’ ever want you t’ be empty of me”

“m ur angel boy? mmh, don’ say stuff like that or ‘m gonna cum too fasttt”

“please pleasee let me back inside, don’ wanna cum on your tummy, want it inside, its gotta be inside baby, i wanna cream in you s’ i can eat it out of you, pretty please??”

LUNAR YOU LITTLE MINX I WILL EAT YOU WHOLE I USED THIS TO JERK OFF I MEAN WHAT WHO SAID THAT

ANGEL BOY!!!! HE'S MY ANGEL BOY MY SWEETEST LITTLE ANGEL IN THE WORLD I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIMM!!!!!!!! HE'S SO NEEDY AND SOOO IN LOVE<333 HIM WANTING TO COME INSIDEMMMMMMLUNARRRRRR YOU'RE INSANEEEE🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴AND HELLO???????? THE LAST PART???? THE ONE THAT REALLY KILLED ME???????? "SO I CAN EAT IT OUT OF YOU" FKDVDKRHKCHFKJFGJKDBSKSJLS FFUUUUUCKKKKKKKKKKK HE WANTS TO TASTE YOU TWO TOGETHERRR HE WANTS YOUR CUM TO MIX WITH HIS AND HE WANTS TO EAT IT ALL UP LIKE THE GOOD BOY THAT HE ISSS🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴 I LOVR YOU SO FUCKING MUCHHGODDDDDD

[warmsol]

just two sunshine boys

[terminalkisser]