#so yes!! trace CAN be taught to have pets

[eddiesxangel]

sucking off virgin!eddie blurb?

Cw: hand job, blow job, hair pulling, swallowing, dirty talk, pet names, g!n Reader.

You had Eddie lying back on the plush blankets by and pillows of your bed. You watched and his chest rise and fall rapidly as your fingers traced the outline of the prominent bulge imprinted in his sweatpants.

“You okay baby?” You cock your head curiously.

Baby. Eddie could have come then and there just buy the name of endearment alone.

“Y-yes” he stumbled out and he tried so hard to keep his cool, trying so hard not to cum just by your fingers lightly tracing his hard cock.

“I can’t wait to taste you.” You smirk as you hook your fingers under the grey elastic waistband. You were truly excited to see what he’s been hiding from you.

“Fuck” he bites as your words swim around in his head. You can’t wait to taste him. You want to have his cock in your mouth, to please him, to worship him.

“You like that baby?” You observed as his cock twitched once it was free of its confines.

He bites his lip and frantically nods his head, his small sweaty tendrils covering his forehead bounced up and down with it.

“Oh honey, you’re so big” you coo. Your praises make Eddie whimper.

“Please” he brings a shaky hand up to your face. You lean into him a touch. He was so sweet, so gentle, and you were about to ruin him.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll take care of you” you kiss the inside of his palm before giving it a teasing lick. A little preview to what you’re about to do his cock.

“Shit” Another whimper leaves his lips.

You spit into your palm before gently griping his cock with the right about of pressure. You stroke it once, twice, three times before dipping your head down to teasingly give the pink leaky head a few kitten licks, ease him into it.

You feel his wide hand spread across the back of your head lightly resting it there, not knowing what to do with it. Wanting to press your head further but he knew better than to do that.

“It’s ok Ed’s, you can touch me” you gazed up at him with puppy dog eyes as you dip your head lower so you can lick him from base to tip.

“Shit shit shit” Eddie could die right now. He was being so uncool but it didn’t matter because use you were making him feel so good. Oh god he can’t believe how warm and wet your tongue was and you hadn’t even started yet.

You finally dip your head down lower and lower until you take him as far as you could. You swirl your tongue around his thick long shaft, bobbing your head up and down slowly before speeding up.

Nope it was official, Eddie died and was in heaven. This was it, no way there could be something better than this. (Little does he know yes there is in fact, but you’ll show him another day )

He wasn’t going to last much longer, not with your magical mouth working his throbbing cock so good. His breath quickened as he tried holding off, he thought of puppies, grandmas, anything that was not the delicious feeling that you were serving to him.

“Baby baby baby” he panted as you glided your soft wet lips along his velvet skin of his shaft. Your mouth suctioned into home like a vice, coming up to the tip and swirling around and that’s what did it for Eddie.

“I’m cumingI’m cumingI’m cuming!” His stomach clenched his head popped up off the bed and the grip on the back of your head tightened, pulling your hair taught. You let his cum run down the back of your throat before licking up everything. You open your mouth showing him you’ve swallowed everything.

“Holy shit” Eddie flops back on the bed totally spent.

“You okay?” You giggle crawling up his chest before he latches his strong arms around you.

“If I ever say no to one of those ever, I give you permission to slap me ok”

You can’t help but giggle as Eddie peppers kisses all along your face.

“Thank you” he blushes.

“You think that’s fun baby? Just you wait” you wink.

[netegf]

inside

pairing: ao'nung x reader

For a hunter, driving spears through fish bothered Ao’nung more than it should have. It was something about the piercing of skin, the quick flush of pink-stained waters that too callously left no trace. The action of it – cutting through the body – violating the sanctity of in and out.

Today, he made a promise to say the words explicitly. Your two feet dance in the reef’s low tide before submerging completely. No hesitation, just numbingly cold waters straight up to the thigh. The feeling of his hot hand tightly woven in yours made you feel that way – lending the power to jump in headfirst like a dare he gives, but is too scared to take. Ao’nung tightens his grip and nervously makes a call for his ilu.

“Let me guess." You puff out your chest like a boy from long ago once did. "‘If I want to live here, I have to ride’.”

His lips loosen at the jest because, frankly, his voice doesn’t sound like that - but more compelling is your cute laugh that bubbles through the ocean surface. He sucks his teeth, shakes his head like he regrets tugging you by the fingertips out of your marui pod a few moments after eclipse – he knows he doesn’t – and finally lets his eyes give you a warm once-over. “Eywa, you are aggravating.”

If it's a lie, that's for him to know. Though, if the devilish grin you wield like a weapon is any indication, then something tells him his walls never stood a chance. To that so-nourishing ground that willed water to move when it shifted, his armour was so breakable. You were made to seep through it.

“Try it,” he murmurs, shoving his spear into your palm. “Like I taught you.”

Shakily, you take the tool and bend forward into the water. Ao’nung’s arms quickly wind around your waist, keeping you steady, grounded. You make a sudden thrust of the weapon that impales into nothing and feel droplets of water smack emptily against your face.

“Fuck, that was bad." When the chuckle escapes his lips, Ao’nung winces. He hadn’t meant for it to sound so harsh, but it did, and it always seemed to.

You narrow your eyes. Irritated, he can feel it. But the water licks where it stings, fish swim together in rhythmic circles, and his laugh is pretty.

“Watch it, fish boy. I taught you that word.”

He bites his lip. The water is no longer hot, and fish tickle at his feet. “Did I use it right?”

“Yes, teacher’s pet, you’re the perfect student,” you roll your eyes. Grumbling then, “apparently, only when it comes to bad things.”

Pinching at your hips, his hands spin your body around so that your chest heaves for his eyes to see. He places a chaste kiss on your collarbone. Looking up to meet your eye-line, he reasons, “you only teach me bad things.”

“Yeah? Well, they suit you.” A playful bite to the hook he threw first, but something about those words makes Ao’nung ache on the inside. Suddenly, he jolts and lets his hands rest at your back, your body falling until it teasingly hovers just a few inches above the water.

“Do they?” His lips turn all the way up. Eyes twinkling at the precariousness of your position and your pretty face of shock an unintended bonus. He plays the game – makes the empty threat of dropping you. “Think carefully.”

Seconds later, laughter explodes from both of you. Vibrating against the water as your fists come up to slam against his chest and squeals of ‘they don’t! they don’t!’ sloppily soothe Ao’nung’s anxiety. He pulls you up and your hands cup tenderly at his soft cheeks.

“Say something nice.” You whisper. Ao’nung feels dizzy from the warmth in your stare. His casts his eyes down, not wanting to be seen. Not knowing how to release the words that are stuck in his throat. The truth that scratches. The sickening vulnerability of insides clawing their way out. He is hiding, his forehead pinches, and you notice it.

“What’s on your mind, pretty boy?” Eyes closed, he leans into your touch. Then he brings his hand behind your neck, gently pushes until your head rests against his hard chest, and all you can hear is his heartbeat hammer, hammer, hammer. You trace the pretty ‘X’ of his sternum.

“Nothing. Just you.”

Perhaps for too long, the two of you sway together in the water. When the coolness of it sinks back to your ankles, Ao’nung’s spear is back in your hand, and there is a certain clarity in the way he keeps you cradled inside his arms.

It is in the pearls he keeps in his pockets for your collection. In the meatiest bites of fish that he leaves to the side for you to eat later. In the warmth of his body ghosting yours when you finally catch a fish - in the way he taught you - spear right through the inside.

It is his love, inextricably. The action of it. Inside everything.

reblogs/tags are appreciated <333

[imhereforthesmutposts]

|COD Headcanons!

!Panic Attack

Gaz

• Gaz will place his hat on your head to let you know he's there for you physically and mentally

• He will gently trace shapes on your palm (if you aren’t squeezing it shut) or on your back and have you tell him the shape he drew

• Whenever you are calmed down, he’ll give/bake you your favorite snack

Soap

• ALWAYS ASKS IF HE CAN HOLD YOU

• If you say yes then he’ll pull you on his lap and place a hand on the back of your head

• If you say no, he’ll hold your hand and rub his thumb over yours

• Soap makes little jokes and comments to make you laugh through the tears

Price

• Price would gently lift your face up to look him in the eye and give you one of his signature smiles (BECAUSE LIKE AHHHH)

• He makes you trace every line on his hand to focus on him, not the panic attack

• HE 100% PETS YOUR HAIR

Ghost

• Ghost definitely sits there awkwardly (SOMETIMES CRISS CROSS APPLESAUCE) and pats your back (He’s not used to physical touch, even when it's you 😢)

• He’ll just talk and talk when he can see he has your attention

• He’d lift up his mask just enough for you to see his mouth move while he talks to you

Konig

• He’s freaking out internally cause he wants to help you but he’s afraid he’ll crush you if he so much as touches you

• He’s done google searches before to find the best ways to comfort you and decided that rubbing your back helps you calm down the best

• Usually speaks english but calls you ‘darling’ or ‘my love’ in German cause he knows you love it

Farah

• Does deep breathing exercises with you

• SO MANY AFFIRMATIONS LIKE AHH

• She knows what your going through and 100% puts her headband on you to push the hair out of your face (lil kisses)

Alex

• (FOR LONG HAIRED PEOPLE) he braids your hair (FARAH DEFFO TAUGHT HIM) and describes to you how he's doing it

• He hums songs (slightly off-key) to make you calm down

• IF YOU’RE A GIRL he’ll call Farah for help afterwards but IF YOU’RE A BOY he’ll ask Soap (LMAO) cause he thinks Soap is together with Ghost (AHAHHAHA 😭)

Alejandro

• He sings to you in Spanish while cradling you in his arms

• IDK WHY but i geet this feeling that he would sing Dos Ourogitas from Encanto

• He tells you everything he loves about you and gives you butterfly kisses on the cheek or hand

Valeria

• Wont hesitate to beat the SHIZ out of whatever the cause of the panic attack was

• She wants to sit on the couch with you to talk it out, but waits until you’re in a more stable mentality to do so

• She’ll give you BUSSIN HEAD MASSAGES/SCRATCHES I JUST KNOW IT

Graves

• Is probably the reason you’re upset✋🙄 (sings the national anthem with eagle screeches in the background + gunshots)

• Be so fr cause he would give you macaroni and cheese (sorry for yall lactose intolerant people) because “that's what good pussy sounds like”

• Originally thought you were laughing then felt embarrassed when he realized you were having a panic attack

-Failing A&P for this

[gabessquishytum]

Hiiii warprize anon here! Glad to see people are still warprizing hob, I think it’s good for him. Truly, anons, you are doing glorious work with that AU.

I wanted to write dark obsessive dream next in all his dubcon glory next but no one cooperated? Have some less porny character introspection instead ig…

It’s amazing how little it takes for a grown man to become used to being a pet. As weeks stretch into months, Hob revels, just a little. In the lustful linger of eyes on his body. In the quirk of that cruel mouth when Hob pleases the king. The eager stirring of his cock even before he eats aphrodisiacs. Even his punishments—even the hot lash of the whip—begins to feel like sacrilegious worship. Gasping for breath, holding his thighs spread as the king buries himself in his body certainly is. In the blackest and most honest hours of the night, Hob knows the truth. He is starting to like it.

That’s the danger of the king’s service.

Hour by orgasmic hour, the king is twisting himself into Hob’s mind and body like a key carving out its own lock. He demands Hob’s submission, his pleasure and his desire for his own. But how many people had the king had in such a way? How many prizes have knelt, and learned to live at his pleasure? And where are they now? Abandoned surely, replaced. Hob is the chalice the king sips from now but he is one of dozens, maybe even hundreds. The king might have taken a prize from every battle won.

Hob is…not special.

He kneels on his cushion, waiting for the king who has stepped from the throne room, and reminds himself.

Footsteps approach and stop just behind him. Always, when the king is away, a guard is assigned to keep a close eye for Hob’s protection, though none are allowed to take his chains in their grip. Not unless Hob runs. Daring, the guard plucks at the chain between his nipples until it swings against Hob’s chest. He holds his breath.

“How’s it going?” A voice drawls. “Knees a little tired?”

Hob glances at the door for the absent king before raising his head. The guard above him smirks like he knows a joke and Hob is the punchline.

“Yes, rather,” Hob replies. “Even with the cushion.”

“His majesty seems to like that,” he muses.

Corinthian. That is his name. He’d heard the king give him orders with iron in his voice. The way one talked to a guard dog who wasn’t trusted. A creature who couldn’t be taught to fear the whip.

“You’d know better than me.” Hob meets his eye as best he can through the man’s dark glasses. He is very handsome, golden and strong. Perhaps this is the answer. Perhaps prizes who lose their luster are given other ways to serve.

Corinthian tilts his head. Hob feels his eyes trace down the marks the king left. Lurid love bites at his throat and faint fingertip bruises on his hips. “I really don’t. Suppose I’m not his type.”

“Surely you’ve seen the others then.” Hob replies. He keeps his hands folded where they’re bound at the small of his back.

“Other … prizes?” Corinthian’s grin only grows. “Sweetheart, no. You’re the first.”

Hon stares but senses no lie. “Can’t be.“

“Picking a prize always been his right but he’s never felt the need to use it until now. Until you.” The man leans closer, dangerously into his space. Hob feels him breathing, he’s so close. “I’ve heard the sounds he pulls from you at night. He must have years of pent up energy.”

Hob’s throat is dry. Something fragile, winged and stupid flutters in his chest. But before he has to think of a reply, Corinthian snaps back to a respectful distance an instant before the doors swing open, and the king sweeps in. He climbs the stairs, slinks back to claim his throne. Hob is still reeling when his cool hand finds his chin and tilts his head up.

“You did not move,” the king says. It is not a question but an expectation.

Hob shakes his head. For a long moment his eyes glitter down on him, simply watching. Then fingers card through his hair and he is guided to rest his head against his king’s knee.

Lying face down on the floor after reading this tbh. Like. What can I say? What can I add?

Knowing that he's the only one is a further kind of beautiful torture for Hob, because once again he's asking himself over and over again: why? Why him, above anyone else? There's a part of him in agony over his imprisonment, the curtailing of his freedoms, the fact that his mind and body are no longer his own. Then there's the part of him who wants to know why, so he can be good. He needs to know how he can keep the favour that he has miraculously obtained.

And Dream? He never gives answers. If Hob even dared to ask more than a small, sobbed "why me?" in the midst of some blissful torture, Dream wouldn't bother to answer. Hob thinks that the king likes him kept ignorant and confused. It's another way to keep him in line. He's always dancing on a knife's edge, wondering whether the king will eventually toss him aside - never knowing if he's truly safe.

So he'd better be as good as he can. Never give Dream a reason to throw him away. But he will slip up eventually - its only a matter of time...

[winterwitch-trash]

“All hell breaks loose.”

Author's Note: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! Apologies this took so long to post! I'm back on this fic with a small change: Bucky's wife has a name finally. (Otherwise it would be boring to keep repeating "She" or "Bucky's wife" all the time, right? Right!)

Summary: Bucky's wife has arranged a day out in the city to attend meetings with local charities. Bucky isn't too keen on letting her go without a bodyguard but she has convinced him that she can take care of herself. Oh how wrong she was...

Word Count: 1952 words Chapter Warnings: Language, Violence, non-con (TRIGGERING CONTENT, PROCEED WITH CAUTION, DNI)

Months of meticulous planning and preparation were finally paying off. Rumlow had somehow found out where Barnes’s wife would be. She would be having a business lunch with people representing various charities. Too bad she would never make it there. Rumlow’s men had strict orders to keep her alive. After all, he wanted to be the one who dealt with her, knowing that it would ruin James.

“Sir, we are all prepared to leave.” One of the men informed the mobster who smirked in response. “Bring her to me.” He simply ordered, taking a sip from his scotch. In a few hours, he would have his enemy down to his knees, begging like a dog…

As for Bucky’s wife, she had absolutely no idea what was about to happen to her. It was one of those rare times she didn’t choose to take a bodyguard with her, despite Bucky’s requests for her to do so. She was just about to leave the mansion when a disgruntled brown-haired mobster appeared at her door. “Doll…Please, at least take Steve with you.. That’ll give me some peace of mind while you’re out there doing business.” He attempted one more time only to be met with an amused look from her. “Sweetheart, I love you, but you know I can take care of myself… Besides, you taught me self-defense.  ” She reminded him, a soft laugh echoing from her lips as she kissed his cheek before moving towards the door. “I’ll be back before you know it. I promise.” She finally told him, not knowing that it would be a while until she made it home… She also didn’t know that things would change from now on…

Bucky knew she was right. She could take care of herself if need be. Nothing could prepare him for what was coming though.

As the day went by, he couldn’t really focus on anything. And Steve was able to pick up on his friend’s discomfort. “I know you’re worried, but you know her.. She’s going to be back soon, and she’ll be in one piece. Right?”

He couldn’t be more wrong though…. Soon, Bucky’s worries would turn out to be justified.

As his wife was heading to the restaurant where the representatives of the charity organization were awaiting, a gunshot echoed in the air, lodging itself between the driver’s eyes, sending the car spinning out, ultimately crashing into a water pole. The impact was so intense that it caused her to black out.

After what seemed like an eternity, she woke up in a dark room, slightly disoriented from the crash earlier. But eventually, her vision became clearer and she realized that she was tied down. “Shit… I’ve got to get out of here…” She mumbled to herself, fear and panic rising within her as the minutes ticked by. It was only then that she saw a dark shadow approaching with slow movements. “Glad to see you woke up princess…” He said, wetting his lips in that disgusting manner that made the uneasy feeling worse. Who was this man and what did he want with her? “…. Ah, yes. Where are my manners?” He taunted, revealing himself. “The name is Rumlow…” 

At the sound of the name, a shiver wrecked Bucky’s wife. This was not good. Not good at all.

“What do you want with me?” She asked bravely, making the dark-haired mobster laugh in response. “Simply to meet the woman who stole my enemy’s heart. And I can see why he’s taken with you sweetheart…” Rumlow mused tracing a finger across her collarbone. Sweetheart.. God, the pet name sounded so wrong from his lips….

“Don’t you fuckin’ touch me!” The female spat, trying to get his hands off her. This act of defiance only served to enrage Rumlow who backhanded her without a warning. Deep down though, he liked women who appeared brave in the face of danger…

“Then don’t provoke me you little bitch…” He growled, ripping the dress shirt off of her, leaving her exposed in the cool air of the room. And that was the first time she actually began feeling scared, considering the hungry look he was sporting. Whatever he was planning… it was not good. Not good at all.

“Now, you and I will send a little message to your husband… It would be a shame for him to worry about your whereabouts..” He smirked again, causing her to whimper in fear. And that’s what spurred Rumlow on to carry out his plan. What the girl didn’t know was that there was a camera recording all the disgusting actions that took place.

It didn’t matter that Bucky’s wife kept pleading for him to stop touching her… He simply laughed, extinguishing cigars all over her body, just to make her scream in agony before he tilted her chin up, forcing her to look up at him through tearful eyes. “The real pain has begun baby girl… Are you ready for yours?” He taunted, lowering his pants. “Please… Please let me go…” She cried, seemingly having given up. After all he was physically stronger.

“Stop moving and I’ll make it fun for the both of us…” He sneered, cupping her cheek. This gesture made her nauseous but she stilled and allowed him to caress her cheek. Oh this was turning out easier than he thought… “See, princess? It’s not that hard to relax and enjoy it…I can’t wait to hear those sweet sounds I’m sure you’re gonna make..” That was the breaking point for Odette. She couldn’t bare feeling his disgusting hands all over her. So she did the one thing she could think of, biting down on his hand, causing Rumlow to jump back in surprise. “What the fuck?!” He yelped inspecting his palm that was bleeding. She had drawn blood, which both impressed him and enraged him.

While Rumlow was trying to stop the blood from the small wound, Odette found the opportunity to undo the knot that was binding her hands together, and then it was a fight or flight situation as she tried to make a run for the door, only to be pulled back by none other than Rumlow who was practically inhaling her scent, causing violent shivers to wreck her scarred body resulting her freezing completely in fear. Whatever fight she had left in her had completely vanished, and now she was at his mercy – or the lack of it. She just wanted this to end as quickly as possible.

“What’s the matter sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?? Rumlow smirked forcing a wet kiss across her breasts. For the first time, Odette’s voice was caught in a silent plea for help, wishing that Bucky would storm the place and shoot Rumlow dead. But to no avail…

Rumlow simply laughed mockingly, bending her over, towards where the camera was placed. After that, it felt like everything had faded to black… She missed how he enjoyed taking advantage of her, how he growled in pleasure while she suffered. All while that damn camera was recording everything. Hours later, Odette woke up, disoriented and sore, and scared out of her mind as her memory of the events that took place mere hours ago.  Oh god… She had to get out of here… @tuiccim @world-of-aus A huge thank you to both for helping out with ideas and feedback <3

[acertainmoshke]

Snippet (Part 2): Old Friends

Note: Shaka is usually a lot meaner in my imaginings than in the actual books, but even so I enjoy having a protagonist who likes the violence and isn't nice.

cw for blood but it's not actively coming out of anyone at the time.

We were almost back when we found Cassie and her friends, running out of a side tunnel. Of course there had been more wildlings, and for a moment my heart felt tight with panic. But she was smiling, even if the children—actual children; her new friends were maybe 10 and 12 at my guess—behind her were trembling and crying. Ella was full on sobbing, heedless of the snot dripping off her chin. Drake was older and cried softer, but I could see his nails digging bloody tracks into his arms.

But Cassie was smiling, and she wouldn’t be if something real had happened. She was leaning on Orev the way she liked to; he was nearly as tall as her and I knew she longed to ride him like a horse, but leaning was the closest she ever got. I had never been so glad to delegate, either; currently his fur was matted thickly with blood, which Cassie was heedless of smearing onto her pale arms.

I paused long enough to let the older children comfort the frightened younger ones, and as soon as we pushed on, Cassie skipped up beside me, wiping her hands on the sparkly blue pony shirt she wouldn’t take off that week. “Did you run into them too?”

“We did.”

She grinned, so wide and wicked I almost wouldn’t have been shocked to find her teeth pointed like mine. “And did you scare them off?”

She made it too hard not to smile back. “I did.”

“Like, for real or, you know…the other way?” She waggled her thick eyebrows in that silly ocean-wave way some kid had taught her once.

No one had ever told Cassie to speak in euphemisms like that. I taught her when to shut up, hide in the shadows, vanish silently. I taught her how to kick and hit someone bigger than her. But I never told her not to just say that I killed. She had picked that up herself from watching Kris and me be careful what we shared. Back at the Veil Guard, probably; soldiers were weirdly squeamish about the ways in which violence was allowed.

“I just scared them, kid. That’s all I gotta do anymore.”

“Oh. Cool.” Her smile dimmed a little for a moment, but then brightened again as Orev’s nose appeared at the perfect height for her to pet. “We did more than that.” She saw my look and heard the wolf’s growl at the same moment and hurried to backtrack. “Alright, Orev did more than that. He tore them apart for us! Ok, no he didn’t. He just tore a little chunk out of them. But he would have torn them apart if they didn’t run after that. Were wildlings always this scaredy?”

Yes, they were, but they probably seemed scarier to Cassie back before we could get out of scrapes on reputation alone.

Getting back to camp always made my head spin a little. The alcove in the wall was stuffed with the things the changelings here collected now. There were fewer purple jars marking the borders. There was all this chatter, scattered blankets and wrappers, a trash can campfire. But in so many ways it looked like the same space I had grown up in, hoarded chocolate in, learned yoyo tricks in, harrassed…Pax…in…

I almost let Lynn fall but she must not have been as out of it as I’d feared because she caught herself and, swaying, stood up on her own to stumble off in search of her sister and some form of medicine. But I stood frozen, as the children behind me dispersed to tell their friends the horrifying tale.

“So, you’ll never guess who I ran into.” Kris’ voice was different too, deeper with more of the threatening boom he no longer liked to use.

And sitting in front of him was a familiar wildling with a familiar scowl. Pax hadn’t aged that I could see, his gray skin still covered in cracks where the skin turned blood red, tracing up his head and horns. I felt the slow, hungry smile spread across my face again.

“Hello, Pax.” Was that a drawl? Did I used to drawl?

He curled in tighter on himself and didn’t look up at me. “I know that you both know my name and at this point I’m starting to wish you’d just use that.”

“Nah, where’s the fun in that?”

“We like to know you’re choosing to help us.”

He looked up at me, quick, then back down. I could feel the younger changelings watching us. Why was it so easy to be a monster?

“I’m not your errand boy.”

Pax was useful. Reliable, as wildlings went, because he fully believed I would hunt him down and tear him apart if he disobeyed. Clever but cowardly. I might be a monster, but I wasn’t one for no reason.

I leaned on the wall next to Kris, reached to borrow his cigarette and held it to my lips and oh I had missed all of this. “Yes, Pax, you are. And you’re going to tell us why so many wildlings are gathered down here after all this time. And then you’re going to go back to them and say exactly what I tell you to.”

tag list: @stesierra @amielbjacobs @ettawritesnstudies

[but-first--tea]

B A S I C S

Name: Ferthur Venator

Nicknames: none, unless aliases count. If they do, a lot of them. Notably, her most commonly used aliases for the past couple years have been Omori Kaya and Kasasagi.

Age: adult (I don't like to define characters by specific ages, especially with how wonky the passage of time in RP can be. But logically she's probably in her late twenties or early thirties by now. I created this character 4 years ago.)

Nameday: in game it's the 2nd sun of the 5th umbral moon. I've never RPed it.

Race: well she looks like a xaela

Gender: Female (cis)

Orientation: hetero/demisexual (eternal bonded to Eligos Venator, monogamous)

Profession: "I do what I want" (and try not to get caught). She owns an auction house now, though. That probably counts as an official job! Except it was more like the world's most over-the-top impulse buy while trying to shop for Starlight presents. She's suffering from a case of "asset rich, cash poor" at the moment as a result. That's probably going to suck when she has to pay taxes on the Omori Estate. Oops. Next BBEG: property taxes.

P H Y S I C A L     A S P E C  T S

Hair: White, and rather long. She doesn't wear it in a consistent way, and is instead adept at styling it many different ways to suit the outfit or occasion.

Eyes: Slitted gold

Skin: very fair, which can be a point of frustration for a lizert who would very much like to bask in the sun

Tattoos/scars: For most of her life, the very idea of any sort of permanent identifying feature was anathema to her, a potential threat to her anonymity and survival. However Eligos has slowly begun to erode these fears, and even managed to talk her into getting tattooed. A mixture of dragon scales, geometric patterns, and stylized florals now grace her right shoulder and arm, and curve along part of her hip and leg. So far she's managed to avoid any permanent scars, mostly by pulling a vanishing act when things get out of hand.

F A M I L Y

Parents: She was raised by a Doman shinobi named Harue, who told her that her father was a samurai who had perished fighting a voidsent. Unbeknownst to Ferthur, neither of these people are her birth parents. Harue is now recently deceased, and thus unable to tell her the truth of her origin.

Siblings: None that she knows of.

Grandparents: Harue's mother taught Ferthur her foundation in the arcane arts when the girl began to show an aptitude for them that Harue herself never had. Her grandmother passed away when Ferthur was a teen, leaving her to continue her arcane studies on her own. The lack of guidance went about as well as one might expect.

In-laws and Other: Eligos's parents are still alive, but they do not know Eligos is still alive, and so Ferthur has never met them.

Pets: None

S K I L L S

Abilities: Ferthur was raised by her shinobi mother, and thus was instructed in the shinobi arts from early childhood on. As she grew older, her affinity for the arcane began to show, and her focus quickly shifted to the arcane arts. Her obsession with magic brought her to some very dark places, however, and lately she has fallen back to her roots, relying mostly on the teachings of her mother to survive.

Hobbies: Dance, collecting clothing, theft and general mischief.

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: Highly adaptable and quick thinking on her feet, very protective of the self agency of others

Most Negative Trait: Obsessive and prone to spite beyond reason when something upsets her

L I K E S

Colors: Yes. Though to wear she prefers black and white, sometimes blue. (Why yes I did give her a magpie color scheme.) Even though she's not typically superstitious, she'll often wear red 'for luck' when she's about to do something particularly dangerous.

Smells: Jasmine, osmanthus, plum blossoms. Waterfalls and the sea. The spices and scents of the kitchen while Eligos is cooking. Sun-warmed skin and coconut.

Textures: Being buried in fuzzy blankets. Submerged in water. The touch of skin. Tracing anything with patterns or edges. The smooth softness of petals and leaves.

Drinks: Spiced tea, which she grew very fond of during her time in Ul'dah

O T H E R    D E T A I L S

Smokes: Nope.

Drinks: Tea, water. Wine occasionally with dinner. The most ridiculous-sounding drink on the menu if on vacation or traveling.

Drugs: On purpose? Not usually. She's too paranoid and always needs to feel in control. Eligos has talked her into experimenting with alchemy on a couple rare occasions in a very controlled environment.

Mount Issuance: Unless a very tall viera picking her up and carrying her around because she's smol counts, not really. She doesn't own a chocobo or horse, though she does know how to ride.

Been Arrested: She came close once, but she chose murder over capture. Things got rather dicey after that for a while.

Tagged by: @wpip-raham and @starforger Thank you! Sorry it took me forever!

Tagging: anyone who wants to do the thing! This was going around maybe a month ago but I wasn't feeling well

[spicywhumper]

@febuwhump: day 09. I love you (alt.) + frisky february: humping + femslash february bingo 2024 (dark edktion): obsession + nsft whump: cockwarming

series: crimson history (phase: war dog) | rating: explicit | word count: 1,119

content warning: stepcest, g!p (magical), explicit sexual content, child abuse, underage noncon and victim POV.

Jessica takes a deep breath, she feels too warm and too cold at the same time. it's expected, as she's naked and the office isn't warm. part of her hates it, part of her is glad for the chilling air around her making her able to think about something other than... this.

she hates all of this.

if she had a little more courage, she thinks she'd punch and kick and she'd fight Joan. but as she is a coward, obedient little puppy, she just... obeys. she accepts whatever obsession Joan has with her (and she thinks nobody would believe that Joan, of all people, saw her daughter in law as anything but a pet to be used).

sitting on your stepmother lap would be an innocent thing, it should be, even if Jessica never felt young and naive enough – in hindsight, it's like her instincts have always known that there's something perverse about the Head Magician. with their height difference, Jessica has to curl up and try to make herself smaller so she's not in the way of Joan's work as she translates scrolls and spells for her latest grimoire.

there's nothing innocent about it, hasn't in years. hasn't since Joan decided that there's no need fighting against her attraction towards the girl. there's nothing innocent about the way that she taught Jessica and the Dog to behave like her personal slut, one's just more vocal and active about it. one feels dirty and corrupted in the way the Dog can't (because the Dog doesn't feel, it's all ghosts of what Jessica feels, trapped in the back of an animal's mind).

Joan had ordered her to undress as soon as Jessica entered the room, so she left her clothes in a neat like on top of a chair, before waiting for the next instruction. she pulled as Joan has chosen the spell again.

it makes her feel much, much dirtier.

(it makes her feel violated in a way the toy doesn't, she doesn't understand. she wonders if it's because she has Jennifer, and Jennifer makes the illusion of being a loveable woman too believable sometimes.)

but she obeys with a nod, a "yes, ma'am", and climbs her lap when asked. Joan has the decency to use lube, it doesn't make it hurt any less. too thick, too long, Jessica needs all the self-control tortured into her to not make more noise than a hiss as she sits down on Joan's ridiculously large cock. it's hot like red-hot iron, burns it's way into her and she hates it.

Jessica just knows better than fight, she doesn't want to bleed the way Joan is very good at making her bleed. it has taken almost a week to fully heal up from the last time she wasn't good enough. so Jessica sits in her when ordered to keep her cock warm, hugged her shoulders as she's told to, and makes herself as small as she can with her bulky, muscular frame.

even without supernatural strength, Jessica's aware that she could defeat Joan at hand in hand combat without breaking a sweat.

Joan caresses her back every now and then, her fingers trace whipping scars that she had out there with a smile on her face. obsessed with everything about Jessica. her blood and her innocence, all taken by this sickness inside Joan.

Jessica feels the time slipping through her fingers. she lets it go, let the liquid and shapeless time around her go and make her mind blank of anything but the chill on her skin, chill where she's not being touched by Joan. better than the hand on her back, the chin on her shouder, the pain between her legs. it's almost easy, at this point. it's easier than to ignore when it's the Dog, when she has to watch as Joan does whatever she wants, as she orders Dog to do whatever she wants – kill who bothers her, bend over naked to bleed, be her personal punching bag.

it's the magic, she thinks, because they stay like this for an hour or so and the cock never softens in the slightest.

Joan sighs, grunting frustration over a passage particularly hard to translate. her hands move to Jessica's hips, a silent request that Jessica knows at this point. they've done this times enough that she knows exactly what her mother wants. (Jessica feels acid in the back of her throat, calling Joan mother feels even more wrong than calling Jennifer her older sister.

maybe because Jennifer loves her as more than a weapon, as much more than a vessel for her violent and sexual urges.)

Jessica takes a deep breath, or as deep as she dares without annoying Joan with it. before she moves, slow and holding back any noise of discomfort as It aches. it doesn't matter how long she stays sitting there, letting Joan's stupid magic cock stretch her open, it always hurts when she moves. slowly rocking back and forth, just her hips, humping the way Joan seems to appreciate.

the older woman sighs and incentives her to keep going with deceivingly soft words. like she's just a slightly kinky woman doing something nice with her wife, instead of a little bastard that uses her stepdaughter for something that she's not meant to.

however, Jessica hates the part of her that accepts it all as normal more than she hates Joan. because that part is larger than anything else, than the fear and the disgust and the horror. and because the "rational" part that sees abuse as abuse can't justify what she has with Jennifer

can't justify the safety in that.

can't justify that part that looks at them and thinks "we should run away, have our own little family and a little happy life".

so it's easy to just let the pain be normal because then the comfort can be, well, comfortable.

because then she can hear Joan saying "I love you", she can feed her obsession and know that she'll come back to Jennifer and feel safe and actually loved. she can sit in Joan's lap like nothing but a cockwarmer puppy for as long as Joan wants, and then curl on Jennifer's lap like a needy, clingy puppy and be comforted.

rationality makes all depravity look and feel disgusting.

normalized abuse makes one kind of depravity the only good thing in her life.

Joan knows, she's aware, she has been told, and Joan seems hell-bent in marking her so as hers that Jennifer can't reach anything in her. Jessica won't let it happen because she knows that she can't survive if she loses this one good thing.

so she obeys, she takes the little pills and she makes herself clean and hopes Jennifer won't be disgusted by what they do anytime soon.

[witchthewriter]

𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

Want one? Here’s more info 🦋🌈  

𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑱𝒐𝒏 𝑺𝒏𝒐𝒘! This was a pretty easy choice. When you said you wanted someone who you could ... just be with. Be in each other’s company with, I knew exactly who to choose. He’s a quiet man himself, with strong morals and he is very very capable. You would always feel protected, even if he wasn’t there to do so himself, he would have Ghost sent with you (Ghost absolutely ADORES YOU)

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

(I hope you don’t mind, I’ve made you a dragon seed here, as it’s linked to your pet and interactions with certain characters).

・You didn’t come from a wealthy family, but you did grow up stable and without needing. You always had food on the table, a house over your head and clothes without holes (your mother taught every single one of your siblings how to sew - it wasn’t just a woman’s job). 

・You and Jon met after the events of Sansa being crowned Queen in the North. He was travelling when suddenly there was a snow storm and he had no choice but to find the nearest house to take shelter in. Unluckily, or luckily - depending on who you ask, it was your home. 

・Jon is actually a very jealous guy and when someone is giving you too much of - that - kind of attention, than he stops it immediately. He really doesn’t like people getting to close

・One of his favouite activities to do with you is to sit by the fire and hold you, he loves your smell and the calm energy that you bring. It really helps him open up - he can talk to you about anything

・You’re the only person who can genuinely make him smile. He knows that you aren’t being political or trying to create an alliance. You’re there because you love him. And that brings out a different side to Jon that no one sees

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Into My Arms by the Midnite String Quartet

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

・ Madly In Love (You) x Ridiculously Oblivious (Jon)

・You Fell First, But They Fall Harder

・Closed Off x The Person They Warm Up To (This one works both ways)

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Stuck Together

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

Your sarcasm, your loyalty, your logic. He loves that you want to think things through before jumping into action. He’s been so sick and tired of being the voice of reason for so long. 

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

Would be Sansa and/or Dany. I think you need a best friend who understands you on a deeper level - yes having a friend with humour is great, but without a deep connection the friendship won’t go anything. It won’t be anything other than surface level. 

𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆

I think you’re a mix of Sansa, Bran and Jojen Reed. You have this quiet yet mysterious energy about you. A quick-wit, that doesn’t take crap from anyone - and yet you don’t yell, or need to be loud to hold people’s attention. 

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒕

As a dragon seed, even though you might not be able to trace your family history, you do have a special ability that helped the Targaryen’s conquer Westeros. I.e., you are a dragon rider. 

Dany didn’t understand how this could happen, she only knew about her history through her brother, but he was long gone now. So she could only rely on Jorah, and Tyrion to explain it to her. Dragon seeds exist - bastard children that have the blood of Old Valyria. 

When you approached the three dragons, you had no idea that one would have such an impact on you. 

Viserion. 

The youngest, and yes, the smallest, but the most affectionate. 

It shocked everyone when he let you get close, when he whined when you gave him a rub. 

And then Dany nearly fainted when you climbed ontop of him and flew off. 

[vacantvisage]

Can we get a tinyyyy taste of the Saint Sebastian WIP? ♥️♥️♥️

“I have been in service of Raphael for such a long time. I have had my fill of souls, yes. All delicious. But you, my little flower," Haarlep's claws hovered in the air, tracing Sebastian's figure with a sultry wave, "are a veritable feast.” Their eyes glimmered like embers set aflame, teeth glinting as they grinned broadly. Hungrily. “So… Virginal,” the Incubus moaned, prowling, crawling up close to the white-haired noble. “A pure little thing,” they said, trailing their fingers down Sebastian’s front. The human startled slightly, pulling away. “Not to worry, little bird,” they borrowed one of Raphael’s favorite pet names. “I frequented the calls of flowered summoners, once upon a time. They are always so eager. To learn, to be taught, to experience. Who better to teach you than an expert of quivering flesh?” Sebastian felt his cheeks flush. Want stirred, pooled in his belly. His jaw trembled, bashful and somewhat fearful as the Incubus hung from his shoulders, peppering him with simple, shy kisses.

:]

[laziestgirlintown]

Something Sweet, chapter 11

Last chapter! (Chapter 10 posted here earlier today.) Also on AO3. First chapter here.

PAGE 1-2

[Same day.] They’re sitting side by side on the sofa, the cat stretched out over both their laps, both petting her. The curator is munching on a cookie. He talks while we see glimpses of them from different angles; sock feet on the sofa table, the trace of worry still there in the baker’s eyebrows, the curator (still pale) pausing to savour the cookie after taking a bite.

“There’s actually one thing I know how to bake. Well, I know how to bake several things acceptably well, but this one turns out very good every time. My grandfather and my aunt taught me. [Frame of a memory where he’s a boy] It’s similar to several cakes but I’ve never come across one enough like it that I could say it’s the same. But the thing is, we used to make it for new year’s. I know it’s a sure thing, if I were to bring it to a party or an opening or something – but it’s the new year cake! Much as I love it, it feels strange making it any other time of year, even stranger eating it.”

PAGE 3-4

“It is just two months to new year’s,” the baker points out.

“Yeah.” The curator takes another bite and holds the cookie up. “This, for instance. I never manage to get the balance between crispy and chewy this perfect with cookies.”

“We could bake together some time if you want,” the baker says, taking a cookie too. “I could show you some of my secrets.”

The curator looks up at him. “Really? But aren’t they … secret?”

Emphasising with the cookie in his hand: “More good cookies in the world is a more important cause.”

The curator finally smiles a little. “That’s a good cause.”

“I’ve always thought so.”

The curator, settling into the sofa: “Hey, if you remember, was there a specific thing you baked that made you think, ‘Hey, this is really good, I can do this for a living’?”

The baker grins like the cat that got the cream.

PAGE 5-6

“Yes, there was.”

“What was it?”

“I’ll show you. I’ll make it next week. Do you know what day you’ll be coming in?”

“Oh, uh, probably Tuesday. Working long days Wednesday and Thursday.”

“I’ll have it then. Just message me if your plans change.”

“I will.” The curator looks at his cookie, then glances up at the baker. “Thank you.” The baker smiles. “I get why you brought it up,” the curator says quietly, and the baker’s face goes serious. “I don’t think even I could have predicted I’d react like that. I haven’t … dealt. I ran. From everything.” The baker nods, and the curator adds: “I do feel safe here.”

"I’m glad. I feel safe with you."

They look at each other, then sink back onto the couch, heads leaning together.

PAGE 7

Tuesday. Among other offerings – ”Pas de Doux,” “Gonna Scone,” “You’ll Shiver,” “Wet Walnuts” – there is the cake “Your First Time”. The curator's joyful smile when he sees it. The speech bubble "Just that one, today."

PAGE 8

One Sunday at an art gallery, talking and holding hands; one scene of both standing blissfully speechless in front of one piece.

PAGE 9

One Sunday baking in the curator's flat ("... easiest if I can show you how to do it with your own tools and your oven …"), with Earl Grey immediately approving of the baker.

PAGE 10

The baker and the curator side by side on sofas. The curator talking about getting doxxed, getting harassed, getting dumped because it was too much, feeling caught in an unending avalanche with no firm ground anywhere; fleeing town. The baker talking about getting dumped over being ace by a partner who wanted him to spend less time on baking and art.

PAGE 11-12

The curator bakes his new year's cake. The baker helps out when asked, but mostly watches.

They sit on a bench outside, eating cake, watching the new year's fireworks.

[fiddles-ifs]

would it be possible to teach Trace that "pet = baby" so that they wont eat one?

I mean, Trace is always going to have some part of them that sees anything smaller and more flighty than them as a prey animal. Cats especially, since they occupy a specific ecological niche between predator and prey. It's also going to be difficult because animals don't particularly like Trace, and go out of their way to avoid them.

[bella-goths-wife]

Slashers with a muscular, biker S/O

Michael Myers

Surprisingly attracted to it

At first he thinks he would like a more petite S/o who needs protection but with you being a muscular person he adores watching you stand up for yourself

At first feels a little insecure about your muscles but is always reassured that he can pick you up and throw you around

Likes your strength especially in the bedroom, enjoys picking you up still though ;)

If you have tattoos he will find them so hot like, big strong person with tattoos, YES PLEASE

Bo Sinclair

Enjoys being able to talk about motorcycles with you

You two would definitely restore old bikes together as a bonding activity

Enjoys your tattoos and wants to get a matching ones underneath your chest

With the muscles he would be a little butt hurt if you had bigger ones then him

Doesn’t mind your muscles as long as he has bigger ones then you or else he’ll feel a little bit emasculated

Would love if you taught him how to ride a motorcycle

Vincent Sinclair

Would absolutely love it

He would adore your giant muscles

Literally see you as a god/goddess/deity

Would simp so hard for you

Would trace your tattoos with his fingers to wake you up in the morning or to comfort you

Would workout with you to see if he could bulk up as well

I could see Vincent overworking himself making wax figures and you just scooping his half awake self up in a bridal position and taking him to bed

Overall worships the ground you walk on

Thomas Hewitt

A bit judgemental at the start

You show up to the Hewitt residence on your motorcycle, head to toe in leather with your muscles covered in sweat

Thomas is loving every moment of your ‘taking off the helmet and flipping your hair’ but Luda may was right beside him with a disgusted look

You would have gotten eaten if you didn’t prove to the family that you could be useful for getting more victims

You and Thomas quickly got together which earned a disapproving speech from Luda may and holt who tell him that he should go for someone more ‘feminine’

Loves your tattoos and loves it when you explain the meaning behind them

Is a bit worried about you going on a motorcycle because of Luda may calling it a “death machine” but quickly comes around when he sees how much fun you have riding on it

He would get on for a ride but he would hold onto your waist for dear life

Overall he loves your look but still does worry about the motorcycle

Asa Emory

Surprisingly your muscles weren’t the first thing to catch his eye

It was how free you looked when you rode about on your motorcycle and how colourful you looked

He spends his days in the bleak hotel so when you come racing into his sight your like a breath or fresh air

Your tattoos make you easily recognisable so when he sees you again he breaths in your appearance and decides then and their that you’ll be his

Finds your muscles both the bane and joy of his existence

Bane because they make it easier for you to fight back against him and resist his punishments

Joy because he finds them fascinating and loves to see you use your strength on other pets

Like a lab experiment he wants to see how far he can push you mind and body

Will tattoo ‘pet’ on you at some point as a form of branding, will most likely to be on the back of the neck

Jason voorhees

Like a mother hen

Will constantly fuss over you when you workout to make sure you aren’t overworking yourself

Will be terrified of your motorcycle

Well not really the motorcycle as much as how hurt you could get on it

I could imagine him just silently lecturing you his eyes if you sneak off for a ride

Loves your tattoos and adores the colourful ones

Wants to sketch a tattoo for you so bad

I can just imagine you coming home to him one day with a new tattoo and him asking you what it is and you just showing him a tattoo of his name on your arm because it’s the strongest part of you body

He would fall for you all over again right then and there

Wants you to tattoo him specifically but if you don’t want to then he wants you to sketch him something that includes your name to have tattooed on him

[dr4cking]

Torture.

draco malfoy x reader | kinktober #1.

sub!draco with mommy kink.

masterlist | taglist

“What got you so flustered, Draco?” You turned your head to the side finally facing Draco who has been shifting uncomfortably on the bed.

“N-nothing Y/n..” he replies, cheeks heated as he tries to look away from your gaze.

“You sure it’s nothing pretty boy? Then explain to me why you’re getting excited, hm?” You look over to his prominent bulge in his sweatpants, placing your palm on top of it, squeezing him a little making him whimper.

“You’re such a spoiled brat Draco. We barely do anything but look at you, so worked up from nothing.” You started to palm him through his sweatpants brushing your fingers on his covered length.

“Please Y/n.. ‘m so hard for you..” He whines biting his lip at the little friction you gave him.

“It’s Mommy to brats like you.”

“‘m sorry.. please do something Mommy.. It’s painful-” He begged as you now hovering over his body, hand squeezing his hard cock.

Draco cried out as you abruptly pulled down his sweatpants and boxers making his hard on slapped up to his lower abdomen, precum already oozing out of it.

“Such a pretty cock, baby. Gonna have this turned into all swollen and twitching for me” You chuckle as a loud whine come out of his mouth, slowly working on his flawless prick.

You give him soft kisses all over it making his legs jolted out, slowly licking him from the base to his tip, tongue tracing the veins on his cock before pressing it on his slit.

“Mommy.. please do it already” His hips bucked as you teased his slit while your hand massaging his balls.

“Patience, pretty boy or I’ll leave you like this.” He shuts his mouth instantly, waiting for your next move patiently.

You took your time to play with your favorite cock, which earned desperate moans from the owner until you took all of him down your throat.

“Oh.. Yes yes! Just like that Mommy.. Feel so good!” His chest rise up and down, breathing heavily and head thrown back in pleasure as you bobbed your head around him, your hand stroking on what you couldn’t fit and toying with his balls.

Draco was so lost in his own pleasure, hands tugging tightly at the sheets that his knuckles turned pale, his moans, whimpers and the slurping sounds filling the heated room as you worked on his cock with your mouth.

“Your mouth feels so tight and warm Mommy, I’m gonna cum” You can feel him twitched inside you signaling that he was close, you pulled him out of your mouth.

“No!! Oh my god- no no no Mommy I was so close..” He choked out a broken cry as his cock twitching around nothing making you chuckle deeply at him.

“Ask for my permission next time, brat. I taught you better than that.”

“Mommy ‘m sorry I will! I’ll be good I promise just please..” He writhed, eyes pleading at your cold devilish one.

You tore his shirt off of his body then taking off all your clothes too, capturing his lips on yours biting on his bottom lip making him gasped then you take the chance to slipped your tongue inside his mouth and exploring him making him moan into the kiss.

“No touching or I won’t consider to let you cum.” You said as his hands started to roaming around your body as you straddled him. You pushed his still hard on up to his lower stomach and grinding on it with your bare cunt.

“Oh- feel so good Mommy.. fuck me please, I can’t take it anymore- please I’ll be good for you!” He shuts his eyes in pleasure at the feeling of you rubbing him with your cunt.

“Yeah you gonna be good for me? My good little pet?” You traced your hands on his flexed abs making his grip on the sheets tightened.

“Yes yes! I promise I’ll be your good little pet.. please it h-hurts Mommy..” You smile proudly at his helpless desperate self, you decided to end his torture and lifting your hips up guiding his cock into your hole.

“Fuck Draco- your cock filled me up so full, so perfect for me.” His choked out cries and whimpers echoing in your ears as you start riding him.

You bounce up and down on his cock, he was so deep inside you that his pelvic bone rubbing your clit, adding more pleasure to you. You leaned down to his flushed face all messy for you. You tugged his bottom lip with your thumb and pushing it inside his mouth as he obeyed and suck your thumb off.

His eyes never leaving yours as he does so which make you moan louder and moving faster on his cock, the sight of him being so good for you turning you on more. You spit on your thumb and it’s slowly trailing down into his mouth.

“Swallow, Draco.” He quickly obeyed and swallow it, you mutter a “good boy” to him and moving your hand to his throat, choking him lightly, more whimpers escaped his lips.

You rolled your hips against him hard and that’s when you feel he’s twitching uncontrollably inside you. You rolled your hips faster making him squirming trying his best not to buck his hips.

“Please let me cum mommy.. ‘m so close.. gonna cum, please.. please-”

“That’s the good manner pup, now cum, fill mommy’s cunt with your babies.” At that, he let out a loud scream of your name as his balls flexed and finally spurting all of his hot cum into you making you moan at the feeling.

The feeling of him shooting up his cum into you enough to make you clenched tightly and in a second your own cum mixing with his, coating his cock. Draco was still panting heavily from his high, his legs shaking underneath you as you rode out both of your highs.

“Comeback pretty boy, I am not done with you yet. Now I’m gonna sit on your face and you have to clean me up, okay?” He smiles, nodding his head eagerly at your offer.

tagging : @wolfstar-lb @dracoscum @hellounicorn @onyourgoddamnleft @whoreforgeorgeandfred @turn-to-page-394-please @silverdelirium @underappreciated-spoon-321 @littlemissnoname13 @youreso-golden @noceurwhore @dlmmdl @mvdbldd @f4iryluvy @starstruckgranger @lieswithoutfairytales @yiamalfoy @black-repunzel99 @acciodignity @riddleswh0r3crux @ameliasbitvh @hopelessbutterfly @rylynn-blog @miraclesoflove @i-love-scott-mccall @slythermuf @myshamalfoy @maybesandohnos @teenwolfbitches28 @desiredmalfoy @ferretboysupremacy @coolbeans32 @arianagreyy @sksliz @cupids-crystals @raajali3 @kayleiggh @amalfoyandariddle @madi0987 @mrs-dracofelton @itzzzzcookie @glszed @padf00ts-l0ver @spencervera @wrongilbert @mischieftom @devilslxver @kitkatkaitin @lucy-malfoy07 @papillon-mechant @fullcheeseengineer @hhishho @alexthealexthealex @iloveweasleyx @seriouslyinlove @arzfia

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 847

Gif NOT mine. (Tumblrs crediting me, but it isn't mine. Click my name at the bottom of the gif and you'll understand.)

If this gif is yours (or you know who's it is) please let me know, so I can give you/them credit.

Gif credit goes to - Unknown.

Year posted - 2021

----

"Get back here (Y/n)." Perseus huffed at his daughter, who was in the midst of storming out of their little house. "(Y/n)!" He shouted her name when she ignored him, sighing to himself when she mounted her horse and left. "That girl." He grumbled under his breath, rubbing his temples with frustration. "Father?" Helios approached his father, who smiled down at him. "Come on Helios, let's go back to dinner." Perseus rest his hand on his son's shoulder, unaware of (Y/n) watching him from a distance, a bitter scowl on her face. "He will always favor Helios." She hissed before ushering her horse on, journeying out into the world, to her sanctuary.

Upon arriving at her destination, (Y/n) dismounted her horse, leading him to a small nearby stream. "Stay here Ajax." She muttered as she pet his mane, knowing he'd stay regardless of if she commanded it or not. Afterwards she turned her attention to the narrow crevice in the cliff, the entrance to a complex system of tunnels and caves, one she knew all to well. She entered the system and began her journey to the central cave, the place she built into a second home for herself, and shrine to the Gods.

Shrugging off her bag she knelt before the next statue lining the far wall, praying to one God at a time for several years, hoping one day one of them would send her a sign that they were listening to her. "Great Ares God of war... Uncle." She bowed her head, in respect. "Show me a sign that you hear my prayers, and gift me with the strength to endure my father, and the neglect." (Y/n)'s eyes glossed over as she thought about her last encounter with her father, raising her head she looked to the statue of her uncle. "Help me quell the war within my heart." She begged before rising from her spot, she reached for her bag, and left an offering at Ares feet.

She froze upon the sound of wind whipping behind her, a new presence entering the cave, their curious eyes upon her. "You pray to me." Ares stated with a small tilt of his head, having been unaware of her existence as his niece, until she called out to him. "Yes." (Y/n) nodded her head, keeping her back to him. "Why?" He asked as he observed the room. "I have prayed to the Gods for many years, one at a time, and you were the next in line." She pointed to the statues before her, finally turning to face him, unable to look him in the eyes. "Why do you pray?" He asked with genuine curiosity. "I have no one else... The God's have been abandoned by humans, and I know what it's like to be abandoned, and so I looked for comfort with the Gods... But no one has ever answered until now." She spoke softly, though Ares could hear her plain and clear.

"Why don't you look me in the eyes?" Ares asked as he peered down at his niece, who kept her head bowed down, casting her eyes to the dirt covered floor. "I don't want you to see the damage inside them." She murmured softly, her words striking something within Ares's heart. "Look at me dear niece." He spoke softly as he tilted her head back, looking into her eyes finally, and seeing a familiar pain within them. "You are the daughter of Perseus." He stated. "I am." She muttered as her eyes glossed subtlety. "Tell me what you know of abandonment." Ares all but demanded, releasing his hold on her jaw, following her as she moved to sit at a small table. "When my brother was born, our mother died in childbirth... And ever since then, I have been forgotten by my father, in favor of Helios." She held her head up a bit higher, her anger bubbling back up again.

"It's been years and nothing has changed, well not for the better atleast. I've been neglected for so long, forgotten in favor of his precious son. When Helios turned two, I gave up on the prospect of earning my father's love back. I ran away for a short time, I found this place, and over the years built my shrine, and began praying to the Gods. Hoping that one day one of you would show me a sign that I'm not alone, that you're listening. It's all I've ever wanted." (Y/n) picked at a bit of the table that was splintering away. "I run away from home often, and I come here. I fought with my father again today, and I came here. He didn't even try coming after me, he never has..." She spoke quietly, unaware of how Ares's anger with Perseus only grew. "What is your name?" Ares asked gently. "(Y/n)." She smiled softly at him, chuckling at the curious look on his face. "It's a strange name I know, I was named after my wet nurse, and she was from a far way land." (Y/n) explained with a smile, her explanation making Ares smile as well.

"It's a lovely name." He complimented genuinely, grasping her smaller hand in his. "Come with me (Y/n), back to Olympus, where I will care for you as if you were my own." Ares offered with a smile, which widened a little at the sight of her excitement. "Really!?" She gasped as she sat up straighter. "Yes." He squeezed her hand softly, a laugh erupting from his chest when she practically dove into his chest, hugging him as if her life depended on it. "Please uncle please take me away from here." She pleaded with tears rolling down her cheeks. "Is there anything you want to take with you?" Ares asked as she released her hold on him, allowing him to stand to his full height. "Ajax." (Y/n) responded without hesitation. "Who is Ajax?" Ares asked as (Y/n) began leading him out of the cave system. "My horse, he was the last gift my mother gave me before she died." (Y/n) explained, pointing to the stallion in question when they exited the cave. "Very well." Ares smiled before transporting them all to Olympus.

---A month later---

Again his search was in vain, he could find no sign of (Y/n), or even Ajax. With a defeated sigh he cast his eyes to the horizon, unable to bring himself back home to Helios empty handed again. "Father I need your guidance." Perseus muttered plainly, afraid he'd never find her on his own. "What is it my son?" Zeus asked as he appeared behind Perseus. "It's (Y/n)... She's been missing for a month, and I cannot find any trace of her. I need your help." Perseus explained, frowning when Zeus smiled. "We will find her, come with me." Zeus offered Perseus his hand, transporting him to the Grey Sisters. Perseus scowled at the sight of them once more, though he stepped forward as Zeus encouraged. "Ah Perseus comes back to us." One of the sisters pointed out as she held the eye, shrinking back when she noticed Zeus behind him. "And he brought Zeus with him." She hissed, the other sisters shrinking back upon hearing her words.

"I need you to tell me where my daughter is." Perseus demanded, the sisters giggling simultaneously. "The daughter of Perseus wants nothing to due with him anymore, she has found a new father to take his place." The sister with the eye snickered sinisterly. "What is that supposed to mean?" Perseus growled in anger. "You neglected her for to long young Perseus, she turned her back on you the way you did to her. Your brother Ares took your place, and took her to Olympus to care for as his own." The sisters laughed again, only further angering Perseus, who turned that anger to his father. "You knew." He accused, despite the confusion in Zeus's eyes. "I knew nothing of this." Zeus argued, whisking himself and Perseus back to Olympus. When they reached Olympus they barged into Ares's hall, to find him laughing as he taught (Y/n) how to fight with a sword. "(Y/n)!" Perseus exclaimed as he rushed to her side, freezing in his tracks when Ares stepped between them, shielding (Y/n). "Get away from her." Perseus hissed at his brother, who only smiled at him. "I was going to say the same thing to you." Ares taunted only angering Perseus more.

"(Y/n) come here." Perseus demanded as he glared at his brother. "No." (Y/n) shook her head, sheathing the sword Ares had gifted her with, she moved to stand beside her Uncle. "What?" Perseus frowned at her. "I'm staying here with Ares, you can go back home. Be with your favorite child, and leave me here with my chosen father." (Y/n) hissed at Perseus who bowed his head in shame, knowing well how wrong he had treated her. "You are my daughter." Perseus muttered as he looked to her with sad eyes. "I haven't been your daughter in a long time." She turned her back on him, walking away. "She'll be safer here." Ares mused casually, glaring at his father before looking to Perseus. "She's already happier." He added making Perseus feel even worse. "If you're truly happy here (Y/n)." Perseus began, drawing (Y/n)'s attended to him. "Then I will leave you be, but know we'll always be waiting for you to return to us." He promised, though his words held no weight to her. "You'll be waiting in vain Perseus." She stated emotionlessly, the use of his name stinging to Perseus.

Perseus left the hall and waited for Zeus to join him, shameful tears welling in his eyes, for having pushed his only daughter away so much, that she turned her back on him. "How long were you planning on hiding her from me?" Zeus asked Ares who placed a comforting hand onto (Y/n)'s shoulder. "I wasn't hiding her, you just never noticed." Ares retorted before turning his attention solely to (Y/n), the daughter he never knew he wanted. "I am sorry Perseus." Zeus tried as he exited the hall, feeling sorry for his son. "Just take me back home, Helios needs me." Perseus wiped away the tears within his eyes, turning to Zeus with a hard face, trying to bury the pain he was feeling. "Very well." Zeus nodded before sending Perseus back with the wave of his hand. A sigh escaping the old Gods throat, while laughter and swords clashing together could be heard from within Ares's hall.

[yeouls]

SYNOPSIS | an innocent virgins late night craving for her boyfriends cock <33

CONTENT | blowjob, a whole lotta praise, shy reader.

WORD COUNT | 2.1k

it was on impulse. you hadn’t taken full aware of your actions until you found yourself sitting in the living room of your boyfriends apartment at two in the morning. a droopy eyed jean was certainly shocked by your presence.

“are you gonna tell me why you’re here so late, babe?” he yawned as he pulled you closer to him on the couch. his sleepy voice filled your stomach with a warm sensation. his scruff pricked your neck in a tickle as he drowsily buried his head into your neck.

“i…um…i wanted to try something.”

you were nervous to tell him the real reason for your presence so late at night.

“it couldn’t wait till tomorrow?” he asks as he peppers soft kisses into your neck.

although the two of you had been a couple for the past six months you never tried anything. it was always kisses and hugs that were nothing but innocent. jean had been well aware of your chastity and insisted on taking things slow. but the continuous whispers of wanting to take a step forward were persistent in your thoughts.

“are you going to laugh at me if i tell you?” you question as you fiddle with your fingers in your lap.

“i don’t know where this is coming from but i would never. you’re my pretty girl, aren’t you?” he reassures, softly grabbing your jaw making you look him in the eye. his words seemed sincere but the lingering fear of him laughing at your foolishness was an inevitable emotion.

“can i show you instead?”

his face merges into that of a confused man. his eyes were less fogged with sleep and more fogged with intrigue. your mysterious request had taken him by interest.

he pulls you closer by your jaw before placing a soft kiss to your lips. “if that makes you feel better, go for it.”

you nervously chew on your bottom lip as you slip away from his grip.

“um…can you close your eyes?” you request as you avoid meeting his curious gaze.

“you’re beginning to scare me but if you insist,” he amusingly chuckles as he obliges to your request. with his arms splayed against the top of the couch and his legs slightly apart you were at an advantage.

with knees weak from nervousness you manage to slide from the couch onto the icy, wooden floor. the moment your hands traced up and down his built thighs, jean had opened his eyes in shock. after all, his innocent girlfriend was on her knees in between his legs with a look of desire spilling from her eyes.

“baby, what are you doing?”

his voice was breathy from shock as your hand trailed up his leg.

“i wanna touch it.”

you finally managed to bring yourself to say it. his reaction was not one you had expected. he didn’t laugh nor yell. he grabs ahold of your wrist as he pulls up onto your feet and settles you in his lap.

“who taught you that, princess? you don’t have to feel forced to do things like that just because we are dating,” he says with a voice laced in worry and concern.

“no one, i didn’t get to do anything nice for you on your birthday,” you explain to him as you fiddle with your thumbs. you can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye because of embarrassment from the stunt you pulled. what were you expecting?

“i don’t want you to do anything you might not like,” he whispers as he cups your cheeks to grant you comfort.

“but i want to make you feel good,” you murmur as you finally bring yourself to look into his eyes.

“you can’t force yourself to do something you don’t know how to do, baby,” he sighs from frustration.

the truth was that he held himself back with every nerve in his body to try and not take you right there on the couch. your pouty lips and lust driven eyes were hard to resist.

although he protested the action, his dick was growing harder by the second and you could feel it.

“can you teach me? i wanna learn how to make you feel good.”

“will you promise that you’ll stop whenever you feel like it and not force yourself?”

a smile appears on your face from his statement.

“yes, i promise.”

“if you want to stop, you have to tell me,” he reiterates as he softly brushes your cheek.

“i understand,” you reassure as you pull him into a kiss. his worrisome nature when it came to you showed you that he truly cared.

“get on your knees,” he orders against your lips. you eagerly comply as you once again place yourself between his thighs. your stunt on him early truly did a number seeing how there was a large tent in his pants.

the sight of the bulge in his sweats was enough to make your heart pound against your ribs. you hadn’t even pulled his pants down and you could see how big he is.

your eyes momentarily flick up to look at him only to see that his hazel eyes had gone dark with a fervid lust. you bring your attention back to the excitement between his legs. your hands begin to caress his thighs and inch up towards his groin.

“fuck, baby,” he hisses as you massage his hardness through the thin layer of material. you weren’t aware that such a light touch could bring him pleasure. you can only imagine how much sexual frustration he has built up in the past half year.

your hands eagerly make their way towards the band of his sweats. your action comes to a halt as jean quickly grabs a hold of your wrist. “let’s move to the bed, your knees will hurt here.”

you really didn’t have a preference as long as you were able to please him. you nod your head in agreement as he guides you with him by your wrist. if anything, you take more of a liking to the cushioning of his bed than to the cold, hard wood floor. you enjoy how his calming scent enveloped the sheets.

while you favored the comfort of the bed, jean propped himself up against the headboard. you waste no time as you impatiently take your position between his thighs. he couldn’t help but chuckle at your excitement. if he knew that you were this eager to try such things, he would’ve definitely brought it up earlier.

he rasps at the cool air as you tug down his sweats. you can’t bring yourself to move from shock at his size. his cock was long and thick with a flush red shade.

his hand cups your cheek as he guides you to his eyes. “don’t worry, baby. we won’t do anything that you’re not ready for, okay?”

you nod as you gulp before reaching out to his cock. it feels hot to touch under your cold finger tips. you could hear him grunt from the soft contact. you grip it as if it were some precious gold. you hold it familiarizing yourself with the ridges of skin and pulsing veins that inched up the sides.

you had come all this way but you didn’t know what to do with it. you blankly stare at your grip on his dick and than back at jean looking for some guidance.

“hold it a bit tighter, princess. you’re not going to hurt me,” he explains as you oblige by his order. “and than you move it like this.”

his large, callous hand grips over yours as he begins to pump a slow pace. he leads your hand up and down along the flushed skin. you are in awe of how clear beadings of liquid drool from the tip creating a glistening layer on the red skin.

“it keeps getting bigger,” you whisper in a shy tone. you were the one who started all this but you couldn’t help feeling shy in such an intense moment.

“that’s because you’re making me feel so good,” he rasps as he lets you take lead of the pace. he uses both his hands to cup your cheeks and pull you into a kiss as you continue pump him at a quicker pace in your hand.

“fuck, you’re such a good girl,” he groans against your lips. the new pet name causes heated flutters in your warm cunt, you liked it. a foreign feeling of wet pleasure pools in between your legs. you can’t help but squirm in attempt to relief yourself.

you fall back from the intense kiss with a low whimper.

you experimentally rub over the swell tip of his dick. his cock gently twitches at the teasing touch. he now stood fully erect in the confides of your hand.

“good god,” he grunts under his breath as you lean forward and place a kiss on his blushing tip while you continue to pump him in your hand.

“can i put it in my mouth?” you ask with half-lidded eyes. how could he say no when your puffy lips were centimeters away from his dick?

“don’t force yourself to take it all, okay?”

you nod your head in compliance as he pushes your hair out of your face. he softly grips your chin pulling you towards his cock. “spit on it for me, baby.”

you listen as you collect the warm liquid in your mouth letting the string fall to the slit of his tip. “a little more for me, princess.”

you spit again coating the head of his dick in the clear substance. “just like that.”

you keep rubbing your thighs together in anticipation trying to gain a sense of pleasure. the sight of his dick was enough to have you dripping. all you wanted to do was see how it would fill you. how you would be a fragile, crying mess under him.

you can’t even wait for him to give you an order and impatiently run your tongue up the base of his cock. you were eager to feel him pulsing in your mouth—eager to taste him. the salty flavor of him fills your mouth. it wasn’t unpleasant, you were in fact delighted with the addicting taste. you tasted the tangy pre-cum leaking from his tip with excitement.

you take your time letting your tongue tease at the sensitive ridge under his tip before softly sucking on his tip.

“fuck, watch your teeth,” he hisses as he pulls you away for a second. you were afraid that you had hurt him.

“you’re doing great but try and use your tongue and not your teeth, okay baby?”

“okay,” you murmur before pressing your lips to his dick again. you take as much of him as you can before sucking—this time without your teeth in the way. you hollow your cheeks and begin to move up and down against his hard cock. you feel encouraged by his breathy moans.

through your thick lashes you begin to observe the contours of pleasure on his face. he had gone pink all the way to the tip of his ears. you can see the rises and falls of his chest as low grunts and praises peered from his lips. his brows knit together as his plump lips were slightly open allowing mumbles of words to pass through.

you push his dick deeper into your throat as you attempt to take more of him into your mouth. your soft gags and lewd slurps on his skin fill the room. your eyes brink in tears as drippings of saliva drool from your mouth.

“god, you’re doing so good, my pretty girl. so fucking good,” he coos as you administer a slightly quicker pace. he gently bucks up into your throat as you feel him twitch against your tongue.

the warm drops of a bitter liquid hit the roof of your mouth before coating your tongue.

“i know it doesn’t taste good, baby. spit it out, don’t force yourself, hm?” he practically begs as one hand grips your cheeks and the other props under your chin.

you try to swallow but you couldn’t bring yourself to let it past your throat. it was thick and strange in consistency and didn’t taste all that good.

you open your mouth allowing the substance to fill his palm. “there you go, good girl.”

he leans over pulling tissues from the box on the nightstand before wiping his palm.

“did i do good?” you ask as you shyly play with your thumbs.

“you did amazing, baby,” he praises as he flips you to lay underneath him. his fingers linger along the band of your leggings as he pulls them down in a swift motion.

“and now it’s my turn to return the favor and make you feel good, isn’t it?”