#beard=stallion

[the-misadventures-of-fag-jack]

Ahh 😛

[blackmensuited]

[sheshe-cartoonlover]

Heyaaa! I'm happy because I can comment again... Ehehe...

Anyway, I did another tarot card of mine and...

Today I give you one of my favourite characters from MLP...

The one and only...

V - The Hierophant - Sunburst

My handwriting... Ahahahaha... It's so baaaaad!!

Anyway, I had an hard time trying to draw Sunburst, I love him, but he's so hard to draw... All the stallions actually are, but... ESPECIALLY HIM, 'cause he has that write thingy In his nose and a BEARD!

Well, I tried! Ahahaha!

[lifeofloon]

Stallion Springs sunset and evening relaxation, 10/8/23

[yardiekub]

Keyblade first hunty 🔑✨

[thestuffedalligator]

Actually, different fantasy races get their own unicorns.

When unicorns appear to humans, they take the form of horned stallions the colour of whitewater and seafoam. They are the runners, the hunted, easily swayed by maidens to their doom.

When unicorns appear to elves, they take the form of silvery deer with long, twisting beards the colour of snow and moonlight. They are the lion-hunters, the fierce, the beating heart of the wild made manifest.

When unicorns appear to dwarves, they take the form of shaggy mules the colour of hope and daylight. They are the poison-curers, the blessed, banishing firedamp with a touch of their horn and a boon to miners deep under the earth.

Gnome unicorns are the little, pink plastic things that smile all the time. They should not be trusted.

[heauxvibez]

Cognac Queen

Warning: smut (18+)

I'm fucking a baller, we courting I'm making it clap, he record it (damn) And he keep on making them noises (yeah) Damn, fuck, shit ooh (fuck, oh)

With a gentle grip, you tilted his head back with your left hand, feeling the coarse texture of his beard hairs against your palm as you positioned his throat perfectly. In your right hand, you held the glass bottle of cognac, its rich brown color catching the light as you angled it above his open mouth. Slowly, you poured it in a steady stream, ensuring he didn't miss a drop.

"There ya go, baby," you whispered softly, your voice gentle and soothing.

As you watched the liquor cascade into his mouth, you couldn't resist the urge to mimic his actions, your lips parting slightly mirroring him. The drink filled his mouth, and a soft, involuntary moan escaped his throat—a signal for you to stop.

You pulled the bottle back, a smirk playing on your lips as he lifted his head to swallow. His Adam’s apple bobbed with the effort, and you could see the tension in his jaw as he forced down the remnants of the drink. He shook his head slightly and let out a shuddering breath as the liquid burned its way down his throat, leaving a fiery trail that led to his stomach. He could feel the intense heat spread through his chest.

You could feel the bristly hairs of his beard still tingling in your palm. He was never really a cognac person; you knew that. Whiskey was more his style—a comfort drink he rarely ventured out of. Yet, here you were, straddling his lap as he took it to the head on his luxurious, comfortable couch in the dimly lit living room. The soft glow from a few candles cast gentle shadows around the room, highlighting the expressions on your faces. The faint sound of Megan Thee Stallion played in the background, weaving beats through the air and your body.

A wave of chills coursed through him, starting at his legs and rippling upward. "Jesus," he murmured under his breath, his voice rough and strained.

You couldn't help but gently wipe away the lingering liquid that had dripped from his bottom lip with your thumb. The cognac's rich aroma wafted up as you did so, making your mouth water. Without thinking, you quickly brought your thumb to your mouth, savoring the taste that you adored. Cognac, specifically E40's 'Typhoon VSOP', was your favorite type of liquor— smooth and spicy, with a warmth that spread through your body and a depth of flavor that lingered on your tongue. It always got the job done, providing a special something that other drinks never could.

Unlike dark liquor, clear spirits always seemed to sit heavily at the bottom of your stomach, their sharpness leaving you with the worst nausea in the world. The unpleasant aftereffects were a stark reminder of why you preferred dark.

You leaned over, carefully placing the bottle on the small table next to the couch. As you did, his hand found its way to your hips, steadying you with a firm grip. Once the bottle was secure, you straightened up, turning your attention back to him.

With a tender gesture, you placed both of your hands on his face, your fingers threading through the black and gray hairs of his beard. Your thumbs traced soothing circles on his flushed cheeks, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin. You could tell he was already feeling the effects of the drink—the telltale signs were all there.

His lips curved into a lazy, contented smile, and his heavy-lidded eyes flickered with intoxication. Soft, wavy tendrils of hair dangled from his loose ponytail and around his temples and forehead as he gazed into your eyes, his look lingering before dropping to your lips, then back up to meet your eyes again. The feelings were deep and you both couldn't help but fall deeper with each other in moments like this.

Your pulse quickened as his hands slowly slid from your hips, slipping beneath the shirt you wore—a shirt that happened to be his. The fabric, soft and familiar, was a comforting reminder of him. You were dressed only in his oversized t-shirt and a pair of panties, your skin exposed and sensitive to his touch. Despite his hands typically being roughened from hard work, they felt surprisingly gentle as they explored the smooth skin of your back.

He traced a path up and down your bare back, you moaned softly, the sound escaping your lips involuntarily as his fingers moved with tender pressure. The warmth of his hands heated up your body the same way the alcohol did.

"You really are the Cognac Queen, ain't you?" he teased. He licked his lips and shifted his hips subtly, the motion causing the growing bulge beneath his sweatpants to press against your wetness through the thin fabric of your panties.

"Yup, Megan Thee Stallion ain't got shit on me," you teased back. He chuckled, the sound deep and rich. His laugh was just as intoxicating as the liquor coursing through both of your veins. The combination of his laughter and the lingering effects of the drink made your head spin slightly but in the best way.

His hands traveled slowly from your back down to your ass, his touch a bit possessive. Your hands moved to his shoulders, gripping them for support as you lifted yourself slightly, giving him better access. He took the opportunity to grasp your cheeks firmly, his hands squeezing and massaging them. The sensation of his strong hands kneading your flesh made you weak. Your pussy began to pulsate against him.

"Her knees don't got shit on yours either," He lifted you up slightly signaling for you to plant your feet onto the couch. You popped yourself onto your tippy toes and continued to steady yourself using his shoulders.

"You ain't ever lied," you replied while eyeing him mischievously. You started to move, popping your ass to the rhythm of the music that filled the room. Your movements were fluid and sensual, each motion perfectly timed to the beat.

Soft grunts escaped his lips, now flushed red from the blood rushing to his face. His low, half-lidded eyes remained fixed on you, observing your every move with admiration as your hips worked against him. You were completely in your element, your body moving with the same confidence you had when you were out with your friends.

He enjoyed watching you, it reminded him of the way Megan Thee Stallion did when she squatted down to her knees, rocking her hips back and forth. You embodied that same energy, and he couldn't help but be entranced by the sight.

"Can you do that with it in you though?" he challenged with his voice low and provocative while watching his bulge only grow bigger. Slowly, he looked up at you, one eyebrow raised. The question hung in the air, daring you to respond.

You paused your movements, the stillness making the tension thick. Your eyes locked onto his playfully. You raised your own eyebrow in response. The corner of your mouth curved to the side as you were ready to meet his challenge head-on.

"Baby..now you know I can do that.." you stated with pure confidence. With his hands still gripping your hips firmly, he responded without words, thrusting his hips upward once again. The sudden movement pressed his bulge directly against your throbbing wetness for the second time, the friction eliciting an immediate moan from your lips.

"Then show me," he whispered huskily. His wish was immediately your command. Without question, you stood from his lap, slipping out of your panties with a graceful motion. He wasted no time, quickly pulling his black sweatpants and briefs down to his ankles, his dick springing free.

You got back on the couch, straddling him once again, your bare skin pressing against his. The tension between you was almost overwhelming. You reached down and grabbed his hardened member, feeling the warmth and firmness in your hand. A small groan escaped his lips at your touch.

He pulsed in your palm, his dick throbbing with need, begging to be enveloped by your walls. You could feel your pussy reacting with the same desperation, the slickness of your arousal making it clear how much you craved him. You were both ready to lose yourselves in each other.

You began to tease both yourself and him, sliding his dick back and forth against your slit with a slowness. The sensation was damn near torture, each glide sending you to the moon. His hardness pressed against your slick folds, the friction driving the both of you insane. You could feel his pre-cum mixing with your own juices.

As his tip brushed against your throbbing clit, you could see him struggling to maintain control. His breathing became ragged, and his chest heaved with each breath. His tip was already drowning in your essence, slick and glistening from the contact. The sight of him so close to losing himself made you almost do the same.

He threw his head back against the couch, his eyes squeezing shut as a whispered string of curses escaped his lips. The guttural sounds of his moans resonated through the room, each curse followed by a sharp breath. His neck muscles tightened, and veins stood out against his flushed skin as he struggled to maintain control.

"Uhn uhn, baby, you better look at me while I put it in. I wanna see that handsome face," you demanded with a soft rasp. He let out a breathy chuckle at your words, finding it cute how you tried to exude the same confidence that came so naturally to him. He had half a mind to be disobedient, to assert his dominance with a stern "No," but the situation was different now. The warm buzz of liquor flowing through his veins, combined with the intoxicating sensation of your juices dripping down his dick, had softened him. At that moment, he was ready to do anything you asked, completely captivated by the power you had over him.

His eyes flickered open, dark and intense, locking onto yours as you slid down his length. You wrapped around him so tightly, his grip on the decorative couch pillows couldn't compare to the grip you had on him. He clung to the pillows, his knuckles white with the effort, but it was clear that your pussy had the stronger hold. His eyes never left yours, maintaining the intense eye contact just as you had demanded. His brows furrowed in concentration, lips parted as moans and gasps escaped him.

Your stomach fluttered at the sight, a rush of butterflies adding to the dizzying arousal. Your heart skipped a few beats, the rhythm stuttering under the weight of the moment. Although this was what you had asked for, you could barely handle the sight yourself. The intimacy of watching his every reaction, knowing you were the cause, was almost too much to bear.

"I can't. Fuck, wait baby." he moaned out. Roman couldn't believe the words tumbling from his mouth. Was he really tapping out on the first stroke? The pleasure crashed over him in powerful waves. Maybe if you allowed him to throw his head back and close his eyes, he'd be able to push through, to regain some semblance of control. But he was so entranced by you, by the way you moved, the way your body enveloped his, that he felt completely vulnerable in more ways than one. Your presence, your gaze, held him captive, it left him utterly exposed. He fought to hold on, to not lose himself entirely.

You also found yourself melting at your own request. You had never had him begging like this before, and the sight and sound of his desperation was different for you. Your knees wanted to give in, and your pussy pulsed around him, gripping his dick tighter and eliciting another deep moan from him. The liquor had a completely different effect on you than it did on him. It made him weaker, and more vulnerable, while you felt a surge of power.

With a slow lick of your lips, you wrapped your hand around his throat. You began riding him, moving up and down with nice strokes. Your titties bounced in time with your hips. You couldn’t help but use your free hand to grab one of your breasts, pinching and twisting your nipple while you watched his face intently.

He remained obedient, his eyes fixed on yours, filled with awe. They didn’t stray from your gaze, except for the occasional moment when they rolled back in sheer ecstasy, only to quickly find their way back to yours. The sight of him fueled your confidence even more. His moans grew louder, matching your movements.

"Mmm, but you can baby. You can take it.. you're doing so good.." you praised, your voice a sultry murmur. As you spoke, you shifted the movement of your hips, no longer lifting and dropping but instead rocking back and forth. The change in pace earned a very faint whimper from his lips.

You were stunned at how you were able to take him, his thick length hitting your most sensitive spot repeatedly with each roll of your hips. The sensation was almost too much. Your moans reverberate through the living room and with the soft strains of music playing in the background. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and sex as you loved on each other.

Your knees began to burn, a dull ache that was overshadowed by the feeling building in the pit of your stomach. The signs of your orgasm were unmistakable, and the feeling grew stronger with every thrust. Your movements became more frantic, more desperate, each rock of your hips driving you closer to the edge. You could see the intensity in his eyes, feel the tremors in his body, and you knew he was right there with you.

"Fuck, look at us baby. Look at what you make me do.." you murmured. Slowly, your hand trailed up his throat, the pads of your fingers grazing his skin until you reached his jaw. You tilted his head downward, forcing him to witness the sight of his dick sliding in and out of your slick, swollen folds.

The visual was mesmerizing. His eyes widened as he took in the view of your bodies joined together, the creamy ring of your pussy forming at the base of his length, glistening with each thrust. The sound of your wetness grew louder, filling his ears with the sound he loved the most.

"Only you can make me feel this way, baby," you moaned softly as you slowed your pace, allowing him to savor every sensation. You wanted to make sure he could see and feel the tugs and pulls your pussy caused around his dick. You wanted him to see the effect he had on you, to witness the power of his touch.

In the background, Megan's music continued to play. The beat motivated you to continue, urging you to ride in time with the music, each thrust synchronized with the melody. He couldn't hear anything but the soft, sensual moans that slipped past your lips and the soft gushy sounds of your pussy.

"Baby, if you keep talking me like that, I'm gonna nut," he confessed, his breath still in ragged gasps as his eyes remained fixed on him fucking you.

You made him look back at you, locking eyes with him, a mischievous smirk on your lips. "Then I guess I'm gonna keep talking, baby,"

"Whose dick is this, baby?" you questioned. Your orgasm loomed on the horizon, but you were going to make sure he came first. There was no way you were going to let yourself finish before him.

He threw his head back once more, a low groan escaping his lips as he surrendered to you. "It's yours," he whispered into the air. In that moment, there was no doubt that you owned him completely, body and soul.

"Aht, look at me, daddy," You could see his jaw clench at your words as his orgasm approached. He exhaled deeply, a sound that echoed through the room, before reluctantly lifting his head back up, his hands still clutching onto the pillows with a desperate grip.

"Whose dick is this?" you asked again as your hips rocked faster, urgently driving you both toward the edge of ecstasy. You felt his dick stiffen up beneath you, he was on the brink of release.

"It's yours, it's yours, fuck, it's yours," he groaned, his voice filled with need as his orgasm coursed through him. "Fuck, I'm cumming," he moaned, the words torn from his lips as you continued to ride him through his orgasm. His hands abandoned the pillows, reaching instead for your hips, holding onto you as his climax washed over him, his body tensing and trembling with the force of it.

You didn't let up, still working to chase down your own release, feeling yourself getting closer with each thrust. The sensation of him filling you up only added to the moment, pushing you ever closer to the brink as well.

Now it's his turn.

With a firm grip, he gathered your hair, pulling it back into a ponytail with his right hand, while his left hand remained steady on your hips, guiding and supporting you through the waves of pleasure.

"You gonna nut for me, babygirl?" His deep voice resonated through your ears, igniting something deep in your core. With sweat trickling down your forehead, your body responded tirelessly to him.

You nodded eagerly, your breath hitching as you felt the tension building in you. Every movement, every thrust, brought you closer to the edge, and you were determined to let go under his touch. His hands worked perfectly, one guiding your movements while the other maintained a firm grip, grounding you.

As you continued to ride him, he met your thrusts with his own, his hips rising to meet yours almost in a dance against the music. His movements were deep, each one grazing your G-spot, sending you into a frenzy.

"Daddy's hitting that spot, ain't I?" he questioned watching you tremble on his lap. "There you go, that��s it baby. Cum for me." As your body responded eagerly to him, your essence flowed freely along his dick, creating a trail down it and pooling onto his thighs. The orgasm brought a constellation of stars behind your eyelids.

As his thrusts increased, your trembling knees struggled to support you, eventually succumbing to ecstasy. He showed no signs of stopping, his need driving him to ravish you with endless strokes.

Your head found solace in the curve of his neck, and your fingers tightened their grasp on his broad shoulders, desperately seeking an anchor.

“Please..” you begged, eyes watering as the torture continued. His hips felt like the pounding of a machine, driving deeper and deeper into the depths of your soul.

"Nah...", his fingers stayed entwined firmly in the curls of your hair, with a gentleness that still demanded your attention, coaxing you into meeting his gaze again. He was ensuring that there was no escape from his eyes.

"Since this dick belongs to you," he continued, his tone filled with a possessiveness that sent a thrill coursing through your veins, "you gon take it like it belongs to you."

-----------------------------------------

Shoutout to @caramelcleopatraa for being my inspo for actually pushing this out💐🩷

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @sortudademais @empressdede @alichesmi

@msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @blacst4r @sassginamillls @wrestlingprincess80

@headoftheetable @trashbin-nie @tshepisho @mzv11 @sheyaish

@saintmagx

[octuscle]

Full investment

Martin had been very lucky in his life. He founded his first start-up at the right time, sold it at the right time and invested the proceeds wisely. Of course, it wasn't just luck; Martin was clever, hard-working and charismatic. And with this combination, he was bound to succeed. The fact that he was extremely good-looking didn't necessarily hinder him. Martin was at every party, Martin knew everyone and Martin was at least one of the first followers of a new trend. If he didn't set the trend himself. That's why he was very annoyed when he got talking to a cool, masculine and sporty-looking guy at a party at the Turkish Embassy. The young stallion turned out to be a rising star in the mixed martial arts world and ran a gym in one of Stockholm's hipster neighborhoods. And in the course of the conversation, Mete asked Martin why he wasn't investing in the fitness sector. Martin was fascinated by Mete's engaging manner. And they shook hands on Martin's entry into Mete's gym.

The press conference was a date to Martin's liking. He was in his element. Not that Mete was not photogenic, but Martin loved the camera. And the camera loved him. One of the reporters present asked if Martin would now train here too. Martin was taken aback for a moment. He hadn't expected that. Normally, he trained with his personal trainer at his gym at home. But this was the moment Mete had been waiting for. He threw a bag with a pair of sports trousers and a pair of gloves to Martin and said it was time for them to train together. Martin hesitated only briefly. He looked good in a suit. But he also knew that he looked at least as good with his shirt off. The pictures of the sparring session were amazing. The success for the gym was overwhelming. And Martin had to admit: this kind of training was something completely different from training at home.

Martin's daily routine changed soon after he joined Mete. Mete regularly picked him up in the morning to go jogging. Martin and Mete often had breakfast in a Turkish café near the gym, and Mete created Martin's new nutrition plan. Mete provided Martin with food supplements, the contents of which Martin did not question, especially since the green packaging only had Arabic writing on it. Mete created a training plan for Martin that required a lot of time in the gym… But Martin was happy to have a real physical balance to his otherwise very stressful job. And at the moment he was only active as an investor, he didn't have to run his own company. So why not give it everything you've got in sport? And he gave it everything. Running with a lead vest, weight training, sparring, technique training… At some point, Martin was practically living in the gym. And Mete and Martin also spent more and more time together. So much so that Martin moved into the apartment above the gym, which he had originally only intended to use as a second home. So much so that at some point he went with Mete to his Turkish barber. And so much so that, out of curiosity, he went to the mosque with Mete on a Friday for the midday prayer. Mete and the Imam spoke a lot and quickly with each other. The two of them smiled a lot. They said goodbye warmly. Martin hadn't understood a word. But for some reason it felt right to be here.

At the beginning, Martin's short hair was the most obvious sign of his change. His increasingly athletic body was also impossible to miss. Martin grew a beard. Martin started wearing a prayer cap. And more and more Turkish and Arabic words crept into his speech. And while he was only sporadically in the mosque at first, a Friday without the midday prayer and without an exchange with the imam soon became unimaginable for him.

Of course, his change did not go unnoticed. There was unrest in his network of companies. Mete advised him to withdraw from the public eye. His social media accounts were dormant. Martin withdrew from most of the supervisory boards of his holdings. This task was taken over by a few guys he had met at the gym, in cafes or in the mosque and whom he had come to trust. Martin enjoyed the freedom he gained as a result. He had more time to prepare for his next fight, more time to learn Turkish and Arabic, and more time to devote to his prayers. Even though Mete had to spend more and more time managing the prospering gym and the other businesses Martin had entrusted to him, he made sure that Martin, who he increasingly called Mehmet, continued to receive optimal training and nutrition plans. And, above all, with the right nutritional supplements. The side effects of the pills and injections were becoming increasingly obvious: a dark fur was growing on Martin's chest and his beard was getting darker and darker.

MMA shorts and thobes… At some point, there was nothing else left in his wardrobe. At most, when Mehmet helped out at the gym reception or when he was supervising at the gym or training customers, he wore a tracksuit. But basically, he no longer felt comfortable in it. Fortunately, Mete gave him quite a generous allowance after Martin had given him and Iman extensive powers of attorney. This allowed him to get through the month without having to work. However, Mehmet still had to work from time to time as a temp at the gym to pay for the expensive nutritional supplements. He didn't have to overcome any great obstacles to do this: he was at home at the gym and he was proud to be part of this gym. And as a trainer, he had close contact with the hottest guys in the gym. Even though Mete was the only one who was allowed to fuck Mehmet, there were enough holes that Mehmet's cock could fill after the wounds of the circumcision had healed.

Hardly anyone recognized Martin at Mehmet's new appearances on social media. If you looked closely, you could have seen Martin's blue eyes in the otherwise more masculine features of Mehmet's face. But hardly anyone looked at Mehmet's eyes. There were other body parts that attracted the public's attention.

Ole had been following Martin's latest investment closely. Martin's new CEO, Mete, was very active in the Swedish startup scene and Mete and Ole met regularly at various events. Mete needed more capital to finance the planned aggressive growth of the gym chain. And Ole was ready to get on board. The business figures were simply too tempting.

The press event to mark Ole's entry into the gym empire was a great success. It was accompanied by the opening of a new gym in Martin's former house. And by the victory of the Swedish MMA heavyweight title by the star of the gym, Mehmet. At the photo shoot, Ole was surprised at Mehmet's good Swedish. Actually, he would have expected less from such a monkey. But never mind, Mehmet wasn't there to speak. The photo shoot with Ole and Mehmet was followed by a training session in which the two men demonstrated their skills. Mehmet did everything he could to make Ole look good. But at the end of the session, he said that Ole could do a little more to improve his fitness. After all, he was now a figurehead for the gym. Mehmet had already prepared something: a training and nutrition plan. And Mete had also already procured a few dietary supplements.

[blond3ang3l]

Reiner is the biggest thigh and ass man. He’s obsessed with them, especially on bigger people. Constantly grabbing at you and trying to keep you pressed against him. Especially in front of Eren and Jean. He knows they had a thing for you before you two got together, in all honestly they probably still did.

There had been moment he’s caught them staring at you, at your body when you weren’t looking. Immediately he uses his big hand to engulf your thigh. You may be big but Reiner is BIGGER. He’s naturally been that way but being with you only led to going out for dinner as dates, cooking meals for each other, ordering takeout so you guys can just relax together, no matter what that man is making sure you and him are fed.

That also happens to include when he’s in between your legs. Time is flying and he still won’t let you get up. Your hair sticking to your face. Face red while you’re panting. And he’s just having the time of his life. Slurping noises coming from him as he happily laps at your clit/tip. He’s just as red as you are. Your cum all over his beard. He’s just all around messy and doesn’t plan on stopping any time soon🎀🍒

[acknowledge-reigns]

"He got a beard, well, I'm tryna wet it..." 💦🤭

Credit to gif creators 💖

[lifeofloon]

Prost!

Happy Oktoberfest from Stallion Springs, CA!

[the-fiction-witch]

Caraxes

Media House of The Dragon

Character Daemon Targaryen

Couple Daemon X Reader

Rating Sweet + A bit flirty

Daemon slowly climbs down from his black stallion he gives his clothes an adjust before he turns back with a smile to his soon-to-be bride Y/n, sat on the horse in her black gown, He takes her in his arms and helps her down from the horse gracefully before He began to walk off with her hand held tightly in his, until they arrived at the entrance to the Dragon pit. Before entering, however, he stopped.

"Before we go in my love, I must ask you to remain calm. Would you be able to do that for me?"

She held his arm the whole walk rather excited even if she was clearly nervous, she nodded and smiled trying her best not to show her fears, Daemon found her so adorable, an innocent sweet girl, and he wanted to protect her at all costs.

"Then come on, my love."He smiled kissing her hand before he began to walk in,

First was the smell of the scent of dragon, The warm reptilian scent with burnt flesh and stone.

Second was The noise of the Dragons echoing through the large caverns of the dragon bit,

"Now. You must remain calm as I introduce you. I know that it may be difficult, but I ask that you please try not to show your fears,"

"I promise to do my best Daemon" She blushed,

"Your best is more than enough, my love." he cooed kissing her forehead,

"thought I admit Imagined them having a bigger house.”

Daemon chuckled as she spoke. "The Dragon pit here are much smaller than the space they have back at Dragonstone. Back home they have hundreds of acres only for the Dragons to roam. Here we are limited to the cavens,"

“Ohh… poor things,”

“I never like keeping him here long, and even when I do I make sure to take him out alot.”

“That’s very sweet of you,”

"Do you want to meet my most beloved dragon?"

she nodded hiding her eyes behind her hands to be surprised

Daemon smiled wrapping his arms around her waist and giving her a kiss, The dragon keepers brought Caraxes in from a smaller caven to be admired in his full glory as Caraxes lifted his head and looked down at the two of them already the dragon was tense as he knew his master and bonded Targaryen but did not know Y/n. Daemon could already see this would be a beautiful moment that would forever be burned into her memory.

"My love. I want you to open your eyes, and I want you to look up now."

y/n moved her hands and her eyes began far lower but then she quickly corrected from her expectations of the dragon being far smaller than he was and immediately she gulped, fear washed over her for a moment but she did her best to be brave, as she looks up at Caraxes the dragon tall with fiery red scales, bright yellow eyes, a beard of horns and wings large enough to strange a ship, his body long and serpentine like with a neck that slithers and slicks,

Daemon smiled and watched her reaction as she took in the sight of his dragon.

"My dragon, my oldest and most trusted companion, Caraxes." He said,

"he's...big,"

Daemon laughed at her comment as he spoke. "He is indeed very big, but he is a gentle dragon. Come on."

He began leading her to Caraxes, The dragon did not seem happy about this woman approaching but given she was still being held by a daemon he seemed to accept her… for now.

“How uhh how old is he?”

“No one knows for sure, my uncle Aemon rode him as a young dragon all the way until his death,”

“So he was your uncle’s?”

“He was, dragons can only have one living rider. So when Aemon died by crossbow. He was riderless.”

“And then… You?”

“And I found him, after all riderless dragons are often ignored. I was merely a boy but he gave me structure, and purpose at a young age.”

“That is very sweet,”

“Come on, you can touch him,”

She slowly moved closer clearly nervous, "will he eat me?" she whispered her fears already overwhelming her,

"He wouldn't dare try such a thing. Caraxes would never even dream of harming you. Come, he wishes to meet you." Daemon could see how nervous she was, and it only made him want to protect her more.

she moved maybe two more steps closer "...can he hear me?" She whispered

Daemon raised an eyebrow at her question and then nodded as he spoke. "Of course he can my love. He can hear everything we say." Daemon chuckled, and looked to her. "He is a gentle soul really. You see, I have trained him well. He even understands me, come closer, you are nothing to fear my love."

She moved closer now so close caraxes could investigate her with Daemon still behind her protectively Caraxes sniffed at her, his nose rubbing slightly against her. Daemon could see his eyes narrowing as he studied her, and as she remained in place.

Daemon smiled, and gave her hand a tight squeeze. "He likes you. See? Caraxes is quite a sweet dragon."

"I suppose so... Uhhh... Thank you for not eating me caraxes..."

"You see!? Such a nice dragon... Would you like to try and touch him now?"

She was clearly still full of fear as she moved her hand closer and touched the dragon scales for maybe a second, if that. Before she moved her hand away as quickly as she could. Daemon chuckled and took her hand resting it against Caraxes scales his hand ontop of hers as the dragon shifted accepting Y/n as an extension of Daemon,

Daemon smiled, quite impressed by her calm demeanour around such a large beast. "See? You're doing great, he certainly likes you my love."

"he is very nice, very sweet. And a very handsome dragon" she smiled as she began to stroke caraxes by the nose with both her hands

Daemon smiled wide as he continued to watch them, feeling a sense of pride in her. She was so sweet, and had certainly won Caraxes's heart. Which was more then enough to melt his own to see the woman he loved and was to marry bond so happily with his dragon, "He is quite a handsome dragon, isn't he?"

Caraxes responded to her petting by tilting his head back against her, he seemed quite contented with her attention.

"mhm very handsome"

It made him so happy to see her and his dragon enjoy one another, As she continued to stroke Caraxes, Daemon smiled and spoke. "It seems you have my dragon's heart."

"I do?"

"You have. Caraxes is clearly quite fond of you, I can tell. You won him over, and as such I am quite pleased with you. I have the feeling you two would get along just fine with one another."

"I hope so, hello caraxes your very lovely thank you for being nice to me. I think your a very big very nice dragon" she smiled

"I think he appreciates your kind words my love. I believe he would like you to become his friend."

"awww I'm sure we'll be freinds"

Daemon gave her hand another tight squeeze. "I think he's grown fond of you already. I must say, it is rather nice to see him with a woman who does not scream in fear while looking at him."

"I admit he shocked me I didn't imagine he was so big but he's very sweet and handsome. Just like someone else I know," she smiled giving caraxes nose a kiss and then daemons nose a kiss

"I would certainly say the feeling is mutual." He rubbed his thumb against his caraxes nose too, "See? Even my dragon finds you as irresistible as I do, my love."

"he does?"

"He does, I think your kiss has quite won him over now."

Caraxes nudged his head against her again, and looked up to Daemon with an expectant look.

Daemon smiled, and chuckled before speaking."See. He truly does enjoy your affection."

"awww," she smiled doing her best to hug the gigantic dragon with her tiny arms,

Daemon chuckled at the scene before him "I think it's safe to say the two of you are getting along quite well. Would you like to try and climb on him my love? I believe he would hold you safely if you wanted to try."

"ohh... I don't know, isn't it dangerous?"

"Caraxes would never allow you to come to any harm, and nor would I. I will assure you, you would be perfectly safe."

"well... If you think it's safe. Could I give him something before we go? A treat perhaps... If... Uhh if dragons have treats?"

“A treat?”

“I’m sorry… do dragons get treats?”

Daemon smirked at this, as he spoke."I'm sure he would like a little treat. Would you like me to go and get him one love?"

"Mhm"

Daemon laughed at her answer and nodded slightly. "I shall be back with something in a moment." he gave her a kiss and went to talk to the dragon keepers,

she was a little more nervous now she was alone even if daemon is just across the room, but she smiled and stroked caraxes nose "ummm your a very beautiful boy, I see why Daemon loves you so much"

Caraxes whimpers in response to her words, moving his head against her now that she was alone with him. He seemed to enjoy her words, and after a moment of her caressing him, he began to lean toward her.

she giggled and ran her hands over his scales and gave him kisses softly singing a gentle song like a lullaby

Caraxes seemed to be enjoying the gentle singing and her caressing. Caraxes leaned his massive head against her, his red scales feeling quite hot from her touch. After a moment or two that she spent giving him gentle kisses and caresses, it was quite clear he had found himself quite smitten with her now. After a moment he nudged his cheek against her in an attempt to get her to scratch it, the gentle red dragon wanted all the affection he could get from her. She began to gently scratch his cheek as the dragon nudged her. Caraxes's small yellow eyes seemed to be locked onto hers, and his tongue licked at her hand at one point.

Daemon came back over the keepers having fetched a pig, "I believe Caraxes really likes you my love. I wonder why that might be."

"who knows? Maybe I just smell nice?"

"Perhaps that is it. That you may be filled with a scent that just so happens to attract such powerful dragons." He teased her,

"or maybe... He's just so much like you. You fell in love with me only makes sense a dragon that is such an extension of yourself would love me too,"

He chuckled lightly as he spoke again. “I suppose that could be true,” He nodded, “You think my dragon and I are quite similar then?"

"Umm my big handsome sweet boys"

Daemon smiled brightly. "Really?"

"Mhm, But ones a little more special" she smiled wrapping her arms around daemons shoulders,

"And which of us is more special my dear love?"

"hummm I wonder" she Giggled before she stood on her toes and kissed his lips

Her attempt was quite cute, and his mouth met hers as they kissed. He could feel the passion building, and he couldn't quite contain himself now. He took her in his arms, lifting her body up against him. Their lips locked in an intimate and passionate kiss, Daemon's lips continued to play with her own, as one of his hands found her back while the other hand moved to her soft neck. Their kissing grew more intense now, and he found himself enjoying the moment far more than he thought he would. Daemon's body pressed hers against the wall, and he could feel her curves pressing against him. His hand moved to hold her back while his other hand continued to run its fingers through her soft hair. She was incredibly attractive, and the passion between the two was clearly growing larger and larger. Daemon felt his heart beating faster and faster. And Y/n felt as if she was to faint from the passion, The adrenaline between the two increased as their kisses became more heated. His body moved closer, pressing up against her. He could feel the heat of her body as it pressed against him, it was quite intoxicating to say the least.

they are both suddenly interrupted by the harsh sound of caraxes blowing fire into the roof of the cave they both jumped at the loud noise of Caraxes's fire, Caraxes stared at them both in a disapproving manner.

After a moment Daemon spoke, trying his best to contain a chuckle. "I believe he does not approve."

"I think he might be a bit jealous? Of me or you?"

Daemon chuckled as he spoke. "I believe he is most likely jealous of me." he smirked, "He must be smiutten with you, and now he will want to have your affection all to him self my love."

"ohh I'm sorry I didn't mean to cause any trouble"

Daemon chuckled lightly at her apology. "There is nothing to apologize for my love. You have done nothing wrong. I do believe Caraxes is simply a bit jealous, so I must go back to giving him what he wants. Do not worry about it my dear."

"All alright I do hope I didn't cause any trouble between you" she said nervously

"Don't worry, I admit I got a little jealous seeing him with you too so I can't blame him for getting jealous of you and I?"

"You did?"

"A little my love," He cooed, "Do you think you'd want to ride on Caraxes back with me?"

"Now?" she gulped,

"Not today, another day, with less wind when it's safer for you." he explained, "But? would you want to?"

"I think so," she nodded, "I'd like to,"

"You are just perfect aren't you," He cooed, "I can see it now, you and I riding on dragon back together around dragon stone"

"It does sound nice," 

"And perhaps we will have dragon eggs settled by the cradle,"

"The cradle?" she giggled,

"Umm, Our children will be Targaryens my love. Dragon riders. We could lay eggs in their cradles and have them bond at birth, so we can go riding around dragon stone with our children on caraxes when they're young and then... their own when they are grown." 

"Riding on Caraxes? with our children?" she laughed at what seemed so absurd but she found it sweet at the same time that Daemon wanted his children to ride on his dragon with him,

"Of course," he nodded, "My mother took me to the sky with me in her lap when I was merely three weeks old, as she rode on Meleys," He explained, "Would you deny me giving our children the same?"

"Ohh..." she smiled, "Of course not, I could never deny such a thing. It's very sweet Daemon, I am sorry if my joke of it offended-"

Daemon smiled at her, stroking her cheek for a moment before letting his fingers play with her hair. "There is nothing to worry about my love. come on He likely just want’s his treat." he chuckled

she nodded and cuddled into his chest happily, Daemon wrapped his arms around her body as he held her to his. She was so comfortable, and her being this close felt quite warm to him. His fingers ran through the soft strands of her hair, and he could feel the softness of her skin against him as he ordered the keepers to give Caraxes the pig,

"You are the embodiment of beauty and grace to me, and I cannot help but be drawn to you. The moment I lay eyes upon you I could feel the passion brewing between us, my love. I do believe that the gods themselves must have created you for my own enjoyment, though I would rather have you all to myself and not share you even with my own dragon." he smirked, "you shall utterly be all mine once we are made man and wife. There shall be nobody that can come and steal you away from me, or the gods themselves will hear of my anger my dear."

“I can’t wait till we’re married Daemon,”

“I can’t wait either Y/n,” He cooed, 

[drieddpetals]

modern things the crows would love

(based of the reference of them being in the victorian era)

(also, i've seen a couple people do this so full credit to them for inspiring this)

kaz:

* (secretly) card shuffling asmr/those asmr videos where they teach you card games, even tho he knows how to play them already

* (when he was a kid) those diaries where you have to have a code to get in with a speaker to record messages in

* ^^ also diaries with locks on them

* combination locks

* hard swing jazz

* mean girls (movie & musical)

* "dark acadamia" literature

* making sure everyone in a fifteen mile radius of him knows that frankenstein was the DOCTOR and the monster was frankenstein's MONSTER

* making up conlangs/ciphers for fun

* ^^ getting the crows to memorize them so they can communicate secretly

* gloves with pads on the fingers that let you use screens

inej:

* tumblr aesthetic moodboards

* taking hyperspecific uquiz personality quizzes

* crystal jewelry

* competitive gymnastics & tumbling

* claw clips & french pins

* colored eyeliner & mascara

* midi skirts

* making boards on pinterest—sharing those boards with jesper & wylan

* ^^ having massive joint pinterest boards with all the crows

* leg warmers

* ballet & "ballet aesthetic"

* any movie with natalie portman

* birkenstocks but specifically the ones with a holder for your big toe (idk if this makes sense)

* phantom of the opera

* oil diffusers

* american girl dolls

jesper:

* laser tag

* rollerskating & roller derby

* plato's closet

* tourist jewelry

* volleyball

* colored & funky shaped sunglasses

* just dance 2

* bruno mars

* fall out boy

* cargo shorts

* hamilton

* finding obscure fashion inspo on pinterest

* showing everyone how he can run barefoot on gravel

* gyaru fashion

* sour candy

* mt. dew

* saying, "i'm just joshing you" ironically

* sneezing extremely loud on purpose when it's dead silent

wylan:

* papa louie arcade games

* laufey

* asmr

* flute beatboxing

* green and brown colored converse

* tumblr aesthetic moodboards

* magnetic puzzle tiles

* percy jackson

* moisturizer with sunscreen in it

* the great comet of 1812

* dr. pepper

* accidentally dropping really traumatizing memories bc he genuinely thinks they're just funny stories from his childhood

* watercolor pencils

* shazam & the google "hum a tune" feature

nina:

* forever 21

* lush

* those mommy baking blogs that post their whole life stories before the recipe

* french tip manicures but in any other color but white

* ^^ also charms on nails

* gel manicures

* megan thee stallion

* lip gloss

* juicy couture

* the met gala

* amy winehouse

* duolingo/memrise/babbel

* panera bread

matthias:

* ^^ also, those mommy baking blogs that post their whole life stories before the recipe

* volunteering at animal shelters

* carhaart & patagonia

* those massage chairs at malls

* apple watches

* buying those massive bottles of ibuprofen at costco

* ^^ buying bulk protein powder from costco

* ^^^ generally he just likes costco & buying things in bulk

* colored fairy lights (HATES LED light strips)

* those big tubs of aquaphor

* vera bradley blankets

* gallon water bottles with the motivational time checkpoints

* at home gyms

* the classic white boy flannel over hoodie combo

* jacuzzis

* massage guns

* steel toe boots

* yawning and sneezing like a dad

* hair and beard oil

[perfectlysafeandhealthy]

laughter is ALWAYS the best medcine, and the only one i will take and you to😭💀

[cowgurrrl]

Literally any Joel and reader dancing to “you’re so good when your bad” by charley pride. I know he slow dances like a mf

You’re right and you should say it

You’re So Good When You’re Bad

Pairing: no outbreak!Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: OH IM SO HOMESICK

Summary: "He looks like he works with his hands and smells like Marlboro Reds." — Our Lord and Savior Ethel Cain aka this ask [1.8k]

Warnings: June pushing her Texas agenda, Joel gets both his daughters in this one because I said so, flirting, alcohol, i think that's it??

Contrary to popular belief, it's actually pretty easy to love Texas. The longhorns grazing in big green pastures while the sun shines on a clear summer day is enough to capture anyone's heart. An outsider might find the ten-gallon hats and sturdy cowboy boots obnoxious or strange, but you've grown to love them. Maybe because with that acceptance, you've found your own cowboy to love. One part of Texas culture you haven't grasped yet is the dancing. Your boyfriend, Joel, however, loves it.

You met Joel when he and his brother came to do some work at your father's ranch. Honestly, it could've been anything from cutting down a tree to trying to tame a rowdy stallion. You ended up in the garage with him hunched over your car's engine as you worked together to identify where the weird sound was coming from. Joel came in to ask a question about a tree, blueprint, or something when his eyes fell on you. "Oh, 'm sorry, ma'am," he took his hat off in a true form of Southern manners and held out his hand. You met him halfway and introduced yourself before you looked back at your car. "Got a problem?"

"It's just making some noise. We're trying to figure it out, but Dad's eyes aren't as good as they used to be."

"Watch it." Your dad teased, and you and Joel laughed. He stepped a little closer to look under the hood, too. With him that close, you spotted the freckles that dotted his skin and the patches of grey in his beard. When he met your gaze, you felt caught and suddenly way too hot, like a teenager with a crush.

"Mind if I take a look? Might be able to help."

"I thought you were a cowboy, not a mechanic."

"I've done my fair share of both. Thanks to Tommy, we've run through almost every engine problem in the book," he said. "Unless you want to rely on your old man's vision." He was the right amount of teasing and kindness that the sentiment didn't offend your dad. It only made him laugh. He encouraged Joel to take a look and went inside to catch the last half of the UT game, leaving you and Joel in the garage.

You explained more of the problem, handed him tools when he asked for them, and tried to ignore how his biceps flexed when he maneuvered around the machinery. You noticed he was a little bit older than you, but the crow's feet and the salt-and-pepper hair did nothing to deter how your heart pounded when his hand brushed against yours or the way he said, "Thanks, darlin'" when you got him a glass of sweet tea.

"It looks like just a loose part," he said as he leaned away from the open hood and wiped his stained hands on the red bandana hanging out of his pocket. "Go 'head and try it now."

"That's all it took?"

"You don't believe me?" He smirked, and you shook your head.

"I just can't believe it would be that easy."

"What? Your boyfriend couldn't figure it out for ya?"

"Do you really think I'd still come running to my daddy's house if I had a boyfriend?" You raised your eyebrows at him in a silent challenge, knowing you made an opening for him, before walking to your driver's side door and sliding into the seat. Sure enough, when you turned the engine over, the sound disappeared, and everything ran as it should've been. "Alright, maybe I underestimated you." You said as you turned off the car and got out. He gave a faux bow and closed your hood, his big hands lingering on it before he turned to look at you.

Without the hood's shadow in your way, you could fully take in his full lips, messy brown curls, and the oil stain on his cheek. You giggled and pointed to your own face. "You got somethin'," you said, and his hand shot up to the opposite cheek, somehow smearing more on his face. You laughed and grabbed a clean rag from your dad's workbench. "Do you mind?" You asked, raising the cloth halfway to his face, and he blushed.

"Not at all." He said. With a shy smile, you wiped the black marks off his face. A gentle hand on his jaw helped you turn his face this way and that to make sure you got all of it. You remember thinking he was surprisingly pliant at your touch and almost leaned into how your fingers held him. You didn't realize how close the two of you were until your knee bumped against his, but neither of you jumped away.

"There you go," you murmured in a raspy voice, your throat suddenly dry. "Good as new." You lingered there for a few more seconds before you stepped back and threw the dirty towel back when you found it. "So, what do I owe you? For fixing her up?"

"Don't worry 'bout it." He waved you off, and you gave him a look.

"What? No. I can't let you do that."

"It was really nothin'. A loose part, like I said."

"But you still fixed it. I can't let you walk outta here without paying you."

"Tell you what," he said, stepping into your space again. "Let me take you out to dinner, and we'll consider it settled." His eyes twinkled with something mischievous, and you couldn't look away.

"You ask all your client's daughters out?"

"Just the pretty ones." You laughed at how quick he was with it.

"Alright, cowboy. I'll get out with you, but you better make it worth my while."

"Yes, ma'am." He promised. Of course, Joel made good on his promise and treated you to one of the best dates you'd been on in a while. That was six months ago, and somehow, he's still finding ways to give you amazing dates even in between cattle driving and fixing old Mrs. Calahan's rickety porch swing. And, of course, his beautiful teenage daughters, Sarah and Ellie. He hasn't let you down all these months, but you have to admit you were a little skeptical when you first walked into the bar/dance hall. A live band is playing on the stage, and a crowd of people is dancing before them, clad in leather cowboy boots with belts to match. It smells like tobacco, and the warmth from the kitchen makes everything a bit too hot and sticky.

"I don't know about this, Joel." You say when he settles in the seat across from you with two drinks in hand. He gives you a sympathetic look before glancing at the couple's two-stepping around you.

"Look, we don't have to dance. I just thought it'd be good to change things up. We always go to the same places." He reasons.

"Because we like those places." You're a little whiny, but he leans over and kisses your pout away anyway.

"A little adventure never hurt anyone, baby." He's right, but it doesn't make you feel any better. He sighs when he sees how unconvinced you are, but he doesn't give up. "I'll make you a deal. We'll have a drink here, and if you still don't like it, we'll go anywhere you want."

"Okay." You agree, almost certain you'd be able to drain your drink and go somewhere you were more familiar with. But if there's one thing Joel Miller is not, it's a quitter. He distracts you with affection, sweet words, and entertaining stories that he's already up and ordering another round by the time you realize your glass is empty.

Your next two drinks settle your nerves and make the room spin pleasantly around you. Joel, as usual, gets extra clingy when he's had a few and needs to have some point of contact the entire night. His hand roams from yours to your knee to your hair, but you love it. The only time he's willing to let you go is when you get up to go the bathroom, and even then, he pouts until you kiss him and scurry away before he can snatch you back. When you return, Joel is right where you left him with a smirk on his face, and you smile as you step between his knees.

"What're you so giddy about?" You ask. His hands find your waist, and he shakes his head.

"I just like lookin' at ya." He says, and you roll your eyes at him.

"You're drunk." You accuse, but there's no malice in your voice. He shrugs and pulls you closer.

"Now, this one goes out to a friend of ours who requested a very special song for a special lady. Hope y'all enjoy." The guitarist of the country band announces into the microphone. You could be just as drunk as Joel, but you swear he's looking in your direction. There are a few more seconds of silence before they break into the melody, and you immediately recognize the tune. "You're So Good When You're Bad" by Charley Pride was one of the songs you and Joel danced to at Tommy and Maria's wedding. You hadn't heard the song in forever and practically dragged Joel to the dance floor, and it, somehow, became your guys' song.

"Was this your doing?" You ask, and he shrugs as he stands and takes your hand.

"Must've been luck." He says simply and walks you to the dance floor. You're aware of all the eyes on you two and get a little anxious, but when Joel pulls you to his chest, it all fades away. He's sturdy against you. His calloused hand holds yours, and his other hand guides your waist while your fingers rest against the fabric covering his broad shoulder. He chuckles when you step on his toes but doesn't complain. He just redirects your footsteps and quietly sings the words into your temple, his lips brushing your skin in the process. He smells like pine wood and leather, and you find yourself pressing closer to his warmth.

Slowly and like you're the only people in the world, you guys dance in your own little circle, with Joel throwing in an occasional spin or kiss. You remember him telling you stories about getting dragged into quinceañera courts and debutante balls when he was a kid, but you never expected all that dancing to rub off onto Joel. You realized it when you first danced with him at Tommy's wedding but didn't think much of it. Now, as he holds you firmly and helps guide your drunk feet, you see it so clearly. He's a perfect partner, and all you want to do is stay wrapped up in his strong arms like this forever.

So, maybe you could master the art of Texas dancing if Joel's there to help. You think you could do anything with your cowboy and his heart of gold on your side.

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