#usft cw

[muutos]

[ GRIND ]:  sender  grinds  on  receiver's  thigh + “ i’m not wearing any underwear right now. “ — maric being a menace to loghain unfortunately !

A PART OF HIM FEELS HOLLOWED, and empty, SINCE HE'S SETTLED INTO THE CASTLE WALLS... gwaren is isolated, surely... though such has been far from the problem as of late. in-fact part of him, normally, might have been soothed by such a fact. able to hide from his newfound fame as a so-called hero, and the duties of a teyrnir he was handed by his friend. ever a man to diminish the weight of his contributions within his own mind, of course. for to mac tir there were no heroes, only men capable of making hard decisions and having the confidence to follow through.. he had done nothing that deserved such a gift, in his mind. not even his losses. for there were plenty of familys, of outlaws, whom received no such boon for the wrongs that were done to him. THE INJUSTICES LAID BURNT BEHIND HIS EYELIDS, painting his dreams at times more-so than that which befell his own family.. yet, he thinks this despite his knowledge that maric desired for loghain to be respected as he thought he deserved ... for saving his life, mainly. LOGHAIN COULDN'T HELP BUT BELIEVE THAT MARIC SIMPLY DESIRED TO KEEP HIM WITH HIM WHEREVER HE WENT. hard-pressed to be parted, and enough to insist of his supposed 'nobility' at the first sign of resistance to his presence. it certainly made the burden of decision a little easier to bear.

HOWEVER MARIC'S ABSENCE HAS BEEN NAUGHT BUT DIFFICULT SINCE MOVING IN.

when he'd lived outside in the tent, surrounded by the glittering ocean and the forest alike, he had more than enough to occupy his mind with, he supposed. it was familiar, and perhaps fitting, at least. for gwaren was the first of ferelden land to be reclaimed from the occupation despite the initial brevity. AND THERE WAS WELL ENOUGH TO DO EVEN DURING THE RECONSTRUCTION PROCESS. HOWEVER, he had missed maric terribly. and now, the scarcely furnished castle of stone showed his practicality and awkward transition more clearly than even his refusal to live in a real home. such luxury he had not known since the farmhold. yet, as if he could hear the call of loghain's starving belly whistling with grief, here came his smiling salvation to see how progress fared with the castle.

IT HADN'T TAKEN THEM LONG TO RETIRE. clearly they both weren't taking the distance very well, much to loghain's relief, and maric was quick to get handsy once they were behind closed doors. there was a desk in his bedroom, small and practical, however now loghain was planted on the side of his modestly made bed, half alpine as he was pushed back with maric's face buried into his throat.. fingers clung to the fabric of his clothing, and straddling one of his legs....

and as the king's hips curl and drag themselves clothed, debasing himself along loghain's thigh... the pale skin being mouthed at and sucked into his moist, hot mouth can only force loghain to grit his teeth and furrow his brows in a bid to keep composure.. his fingers are woven, fanning through golden strands as he gropes for a good hold upon them. rough in their slight tug, as though the sensations sending waves of heat to his lower extremities were simply becoming too much to bear... although the heel of his palm almost just as quickly shoves maric more insistently. his chest rising and falling, laboured, while his knee opens up as though he thought such an act might relieve some sort of discomfort. chasing some part of maric's thigh with a rise of his hips, before a frustrated grunt bares his teeth.

and, as if the blighted royal couldn't get any more insistent..

“ i’m not wearing any underwear right now. “

"maker preserve me," the sound is almost exasperated, tinged as though he were annoyed.. however it only makes his hardening cock twitch and pang with damnable heat, to know that he had been planning this the whole time! that he had prepared to drive him half mad, and knowing how easy it would be to do it. and now all loghain could think about was that which was dragging along him now, and how badly he wanted his mouth over it... wanting to see how much he'd worked himself up, with minimal effort from the tactician himself.... he could think of no better way to show his reverence.

instead, loghain can't help but to take the liberty of using his leverage upon maric's hair to wrench the king's head back and bare his own throat. neck arches, as loghain looks at him like prey. eyes narrowed, with the beginnings of a small, self-satisfied smirk adorning him. "i've missed you." he growls, his voice deep and thick, ALMOST ANGRY, UNLESS YOU KNEW BETTER. pulling maric's mouth against his insistently, and with open mouths clashing teeth and tongues like swordplay. even so much as bearing loghain's sureness, and maric's clumsiness. an awkward yet glorious first meeting of their lips that form properly the longer they mouth one another.

his tongue roams maric's familiar mouth without a thought, and openly relishes in the taste. momentarily distracted from his own needs.

his huffs and grunts chuffed against maric's face, and are swallowed by the other's tongue. EVERY OUNCE OF LOGHAIN'S DESIRE FOR HIM, HOW MUCH HE'S TRULY MISSED HIM, POURED INTO EVERY STROKE OF HIS TONGUE, AND THE DEMANDING CURL OF HIS FINGERS OVER THE UNDERSIDE OF MARIC'S THIGH... that which he tugs forcibly over his other leg, so that he was straddling his groin instead.

maric fumbles over slightly from the force, before the soldier takes hold of both of his hips. making a primal sounding growl into maric's ear, which his face was now aligned with, as he unabashedly rolls his hard, clothed cock up and into the hips previously intent on torturing him. another gravelly and relieved noise accompanying his fingers guiding maric roughly. "you'll be the death of me, won't you? damn you."

@almaric. less cringy edition.

[aposthates]

you seem to know what you're doing. // GOOD BC FEN DOESNT

PERHAPS IT SHOULD NOT PLEASE HIM SO MUCH AS IT DOES to have this over fenris . . . not their intimacy in itself, BUT THE EXPERIENCE. HARDLY EVEN STARTED, YET EACH AND EVERY BRUSH OF WIDE PALMS ACROSS HIS NARROW CHEST HAS BEEN MET WITH GREAT TREMBLES . . . poorly suppressed. and the hammering of the elven heart was thunderous in itself. IT'S QUITE ROMANTIC, ACTUALLY. for if you observed the two of them without prior knowledge, assumption might dictate that fenris might be the one more well-versed in the art of intimacy. however in reality, anders was the guiding force here. AN UNSURE DESCENT INTO SUCH AN ARRANGEMENT ENTIRELY COMPENSATED FOR BY A SOFT AND TRUSTING HAND. magic entirely absent from healing fingertips, and instilling trust to try and bridge the gap where such was still brewing.

HOWEVER THIS CERTAINLY WASN'T HOW HE IMAGINED IT. he expected something venomous, and boisterous and sudden. CLASHING TEETH LIKE THEIR DUELING WORDS, AND CUTTING LIPS TO FLOOD IRON 'CROSS BOTH OF THEIR TONGUES. however, such revelations . . . the openness displayed? IT SOFTENED ANDERS IMMENSELY. AS DID THE BOARDERS, TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS THEY HAD TO CROSS TO GET HERE. the mental strength fenris has begun to work through. IT SEEMED... UNBECOMING TO CROSS THE THRESHOLD OF THEIR ULTIMATE TRUST WITH ANY MEASURE OF CRUELTY.

"we've barely even done anything yet." HIS NOSE PUSHES FENRIS', ANGLING HIS FACE TO OFFER A KISS, AND THEN ANOTHER. DEVILISHLY FLEETING. teasing him, because he frankly finds himself unable to resist. SUCH A FACT GLITTERING SOFTLY IN HIS AMBER EYES. mouth returning to cocked smirk, as he trails flattened hands lower. MEMORIZING THE SLOPES AND RIDGES OF HIS RIBCAGE, until finally, he grips fenris' hips. thumbs swiping bones as he presses him firmly against the wall he had already been leaning against. ONLY TO GROUND HIM, with no such violence or intent to control threaded within. HE COULDN'T. NOT TO HIM. NOT NOW.

"but you're doing great, you know." he starts. "i know it can be . . . overwhelming." foreheads press as he raises one palm to cup his cheek, using it to angle his face upward. "this isn't how i imagined it. somehow, i thought that it would be.. i don't know. angrier. more hateful. but i couldn't do that to you.. not knowing." HE DOESN'T CUT HIMSELF OFF, YET LETS IT GO UNSPOKEN. knowing it's his first time. but he doesn't want to say too much, to scare him off. if he hadn't done so already. 'thank you, for trusting me' riding the tip of his tongue as it passes through the elf's lips.

@suledine. melt into me.

[muutosarchive]

“ i could be your toy. “ for mike !

🍒 @ncvabcrn . *      ―    ﴾  𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠  𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚜  ﴿   :    𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒  𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘  𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

"oh yeah?" mike's brows are immediately raised at that, interest sparked in his brain the moment that it hits the air. he meanders forth, falling into the couch. crossing ankles whilst putting an arm around their shoulders.

"so that's what you want, huh?" he asked, his brows raised. "you like being someone's toy?" he leans in, his other hand landing on their thigh. they'd be the perfect toy, he must admit. if you were explorative, at least.

he leans into their ear, smirking before biting on their earlobe softly. "well, be careful what you wish for -- because i'm known to take my time, when it comes to my favorites."

[uruuk]

5d from the spicy meme u rb on your multi. you can't stop me

"ELROND -" SOMEHOW, THE LORD OF THE URUKS HAS NEVER QUITE FELT SO LORDLY AS WHEN HE HUMBLY BECAME THE THRONE. SPRIGS OF CHESTNUT HAIR FALLEN OVER EARS where the rest are tamed and tucked behind the point. HIS VOICE AS IT SPEAKS HIS NAME IS LOW. COARSE, BUT STEEPED IN WANT. leading, and inflected with a wave of pleasure as he finds he has little control of lithe hips winding midsection above his more sturdy form. THE METHODICAL AND LUMBERING BRUTE STRENGTH OF ORCS MEETS THE BEAUTY AND GRACE OF ELF'S SILK AND FLUID COMBAT. chin wrapped around and resting upon an angled ribcage, as the curl adorned head turned away to watch his debasement. ( something that had undoubtedly aroused him, achingly so ). for knowing now he could not truly taint him, the taboo of their union to his kind was admittedly pleasing when presented at this very surface level. ELROND IS NONE SO HATEFUL, NOR DISCRIMINATORY. not now . . . not anymore.

BLUE-GREYS FLUTTER CLOSED WITH OPEN MOUTH AS ONE OF TWO ANCHORED HANDS MOVES FROM IMMACULATE REAR MUSCULATURE, AND SWIPES ALONG THE SMALL OF HIS BACK. using the newfound leverage to tug his conquest closer, and perhaps regain his attention. lidded gaze open in a flutter of lengthy lashes, and chin lifted towards the exposed chest. PRESSING HIS HARSH CHEEK IN REVERENCE AND ALLOWING A LOSS OF HIMSELF ONCE MORE. . . . for shuddery breath escapes before he once again turns his gaze upward to peer upon him. SOMEHOW HE STILL FINDS HIMSELF OVERWHELMED, AND DOUBTS THIS WILL CHANGE WITH THE NUMBER OF TIMES THEY SHARE IN ONE ANOTHER. as he is so beautiful, and though hundreds of years may pass in the blink of an eye . . . his body lacks remembrance of such pleasure. black lined thighs spread wide and shuddering beneath sure hips, whilst sat himself upon the wide-backed chair where the two had first spoken. "elrond . . ." he speaks it again, lathing tongue over soft rose peaking hard enough to tempt his teeth to close in. a low groan escaping him as hips begin to push insistently into seeking, insistent heat -- TAKING TO NOSING HIS CHEST AS HE WORKS TO CATCH HIS BREATH.

HIS BODY, ALL OVER, BEARS THE SAME RAISED AND UNSIGHTLY APPEARANCE OF HIS FACE. CRISS-CROSSED MARKS, WOUNDS AND BLACK VEINS CAUSING A ROUGH SURFACE, MET WITH SUCH PERFECTION AS HE. soft pink blush of activity and soft sheen of elven sweat 'pon his perfect brow. "look at me." he demands finally as he leans back in his seat. his hands sliding 'round to grip hips and take control of the movements. even with his eyes singing wide and deep with pleas for affection. NOVELTY OF THE UNDOUBTEDLY SALACIOUS TRAJECTORY OF ELVEN EYES, LOST IN BEING ALL BUT IMPALED BY THE LIKES OF A URUK, HAVING WORN OFF. the soft furrow between his brows speaking wondrously loud, while fingers reach to toy with pointed ear. rolling his thumb along the curve. HIS NERVES ARE BEGINNING TO BECOME ALIGHT, EMBLAZENED WITH EACH INCIDENTAL BRUSH. urgency betraying him. "you would make me beg, for that which I have already lain claim to?" his eyes narrow softly.

@elr0nds. super secret meme.

[trapton]

[ GRIND ]:  sender  grinds  on  receivers  thigh. ( janelle )

🔧 @avemaria . meme i'm too lazy to find.

𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚂𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝙾𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙼𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝙾𝙵 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺. his own curved with the couch's rest that sits in the corner of his office. just out of eye-sight. he's relaxing. the expression upon his face playing almost a little too proudly excited, sprinkled with a dash of expectancy as well. complete with an uneven tilt of his thin lips, while his other hand takes control of her chin with a light touch. forcing her to come close to his face . . . noses touching, with a further lidding of his eyes. briefly shaking hair from his face.

he enjoyed playing with power like this. it was intoxicating. his back coming off the sofa to inch their bodies even closer together. his bony thigh provides refuge to her seeking, wanting body . . . happy to oblige, as he controls this entire interaction. could give more, or take away what little she had. it having proven &. displayed a desperation that exists for his affection.

his lips seek her own. silky roll of his tongue followed by another as he chuckles deeply against their lips. "my . . . i didn't realize how badly you wanted this, janelle." saccharine, beauty of accented tone pouring its filth. "so desperate you are." he muses, humming whilst he smiles into another kiss. "is it just that you want my affection?" he asks, fingers slipping away to the back of her neck. forming a loose curl around her curls.

[lockedtowers]

see i work on sundays so i gotta share my spicy shit whenever i feel like it actually n miss kitty cass definitely loved to smack bitches— not that kinda spicy but anyways

so again, half f/aerie, actual candy to vampires, f/aerie blood lets them walk in sunlight w/o damage in those universes, super fun times or whatever for them, debatingly cassies blood could probably also do other things but that requires an explanation i dont feel like giving rn, anyways actual main point of this;;; if you cant handle actual spice look away now

so her actual like ‘taste’ beyond the whole yknow ‘pineapple juice makes it super sweet’ and whatnot, so she wouldn’t understand that concept anyways, but as a fa/erie, it is not just her blood that tastes like candy. it is not just her blood that tastes like candy. f/ae are addicting by nature, just about every part of them can be addicting for a variety of reasons, them ‘sharing their essence’ can keep people from aging, it can be like a drug to some people, but in cassie’s case specifically, her actual kitty flavor shall we say would probably be comparative to, if you know the japanese honeydew popsicles that are green and delicious and sweet but not overly like swallowing a sugar cube sweet? it’s like that, but in my head it’d specifically be this one slush with sugar boba version thats basically those popsicles but better.

also i would hope that its common knowledge at this point but it probably isnt, cassies a bit of s freak so

[lawhurt]

❛  you always know just what i need.  ❜

"-- i try." comes the soft voice. riding a smile as fingers softly run along the length of her thigh, while the digits of the opposite hand are buried inside of her. crooked as they elicit gentle sounds &. coveted praise from nancy's youthful lips. tucked away in his office, against the shuttered blinds, with her hips leaning against the sill. facilitating the control needed, in ergonomics alone, to provide pleasure. a tenting desire in the front of his slacks, dressed with greying hair combed for a day in the office. they'd driven the hour away from bozeman to drum up a little (albeit strained) privacy. the presence of his secretary the only one that would dare to interrupt.

"wasn't exactly what i thought we'd be doing, this morning." he breathes amusedly, a nudge of his nose against her cheek as his hand pumps. drawing hand deftly back &. forth as sweat gathers beneath his collar. their lips meet one another's, with an earnest little sound. hiking her skirt up to revel the mound behind her panties, which is bulked by the fabric covered curve of prominent knuckles. palm sliding up the curve of her body to cup the underside of her breast. "but, i should have known --" finger slides down strap of her clothing from now bare shoulder.

"-- i can hardly keep my hands off of you, as it is."

⚖️ @bedroomvictory / @hollowvictory ↪ praise kink

[muutos]

4) slow sex while one or both are injured (bonus points if it’s after a battle or after they’ve patched up each other’s wounds) [helena and alistair tbhhh]

ALL SHE CAN SMELL IS THE EARTH BELOW THEM, mingling with the burning wood trailing inwards from the fire. that which stings at the corners of her eyes even still, as her lithe body sits atop the GREY WARDEN'S. primal nature is further instilled by such a glow shining so upon her awestruck features through the tent's thin fabric. the flickering flames casting dancing shadows across her skin.

her wide eyes glitter, BLUE AS THE AMARANTHINE OCEAN, and lips are naturally held agape as though she were frozen just past her intent to smile....

she is bare as the bones jutting through her pale flesh, made thinner than she likely should whilst exerting herself so. calves no longer burn from the hours upon hours of walking, nor do arms tire from the swinging of her greatsword. TRADING STAFF FOR STEEL, with magic sparking from enchanted fingers instead.

her hair is frizzed from battle, her helm, and the length of the day.. thick braid holding and draping down her back, with silver hair speckled still with gore. but all of it, from flaws to fairness, belonged to him. for he'd given her the burden of command, and she'd pour whatever was left of her at the end of their uncertain days into him in return. even had she not wanted it, in the beginning.

the front of her shoulder is adorned with a white patch, and it is wide in its taped form. such covers the kiss of a genlock's dagger finding purchase between the cracks of her armour, in a sea of scattered abrasions too insignificant to bother healing. puckered, gentle scars are raised along her hips from fused flesh, and a tang might be tasted from a tear in her lower lip. she is damaged. a once porcelain body covered in cracks, and yellowed from age. a large bruise deep red and blue riding the slope of her ribcage, yellowed in the middle from another scarcely on the road to being healed. and whatever alistair could not soothe with salve, he offered a press of his lips to and an apologetic smile. TAKING TURNS. his own body so too put through the ringer, and wore similar bandages - even bore a few more bruises, as he is ever at her side in the swarms of dawkspawn. there's a slice above his collarbone, and purple trails are left over the curves his musculature. yet she so too bears the burden of movement, relishing almost in the sting of her pain being ebbed by the pleasure of touch. giving him the luxury of stillness, almost an act of reverence in itself. even if she were the one above, like a silver sun.

she aches in each and every way imaginable, AND RELIEF WOULD COME ONLY FOR THE ONE MOST PROMINENT BETWEEN HER LEGS. he need only press their lips together and she was wanton. dew already clinging to soft hair, as her body coils upward in an anticipating clench of her lower extremities. her hand guides, with a soft caress and a clumsy skim of the head of him along her slick exterior to where she needs him the most. BELLY IS HOT, PULLED TIGHT, and her eyes flutter as that burn spreads more bearably with his entrance.

THE STING OF THE PRESS OPENING HER FROM WITHIN, IS A WELCOMED ADDITION TO THE SINGING SYMPHONY OF PAIN. and she takes in such sensations as though she were truly allowing herself to feel alive. grounded, and she binds this feeling to him in a curl of her nails against his chest while she sinks. his whine in pain making her trembling lips curl upward into a smile. lashes flickering as eyes open to the sight of him.

A BEACON OF LIGHT IN THIS DARK TIME, HE IS if she hadn't had him to remind her of what it was to smile and laugh, where might she be? a soft giggle escapes in a breathy moan while tears prickle the edges of her eyes, and lips further split in the widening of her grin. the initial stretch ebbed, her breath is caught enough to become impatient. grinding, and relishing in the hitch of his breath and the fingers digging into bruises on her hip. such causing her tongue to burst with the tang of iron when she sucks her lip into her mouth.

her smile is stolen to friction as she drags herself along, her hips continuing to curl and chase. non-deliberate in the deftness of her movements.. for each one turns the twisting and stinging pain in her extremities into pleasure he urges, and her stifled mewls make their way to his ear as she folds herself closer, FOR THEY WERE MEANT FOR THEM ALONE.

her nose pulls at stubble, and her teeth graze his earlobe. SHE HEARS FAINTLY A CONCERNED QUESTION PART FROM HIM, even as his palms pull at her flesh in gentle yet oh-so insistent manipulations. it's all she can do not to laugh. "hush, my love..." she urges, suddenly cradling his face and pressing a trail of affections to his face until she reaches his nose. "and please do not ever let go of me, no matter what noise i might make." such pained moans are swallowed then by the darkness of his mouth, silenced as brows knit. feeding to him the taint of her own blood. she is careful, for both their sake. yet such gentleness is still more than enough for the extent of the damage sustained. her hips rhythmic, forgotten. a moment taken to look into his eyes, with her palms still pressed against his jaw. "i think i - need this."

@telanaadas. smut prompts list 3.

[aposthates]

spanking [ for the kink meme ]

i think this one is kinda like? i don't think he would be opposed but something in there is screaming awkward when he thinks about spanking, especially doing it to other people. i think it seems a bit immature, and most of his sexual experiences were kinda impersonal other than with karl (brothels, circle flings - not really having the time to engage in shit like this) and even then it had to be kinda quick and chaste. i think if we're talking over the knee or something more formal he would be super like, not able to take it seriously??? but if someone just whacks his ass during and it's like a one off, he'd be into that!

definitely not | no | not really | its okay | kinda | yes | fuck yes | there goes my pants bonus: giving | receiving | both?

@cuerrvox. send in kinks and my muse will rate them.

[muutosarchive]

All you have to do is beg, and I will give you what you want. / omega hehehe

his tail flickers. a rumble produced deep within inhuman chest. raised from it's space on the floor, as cool eyes of liquid nitrogen burn through the mask. less emotion resides in the glow of stars signaling his perfect design. of course less than glamor blues. ice cold, but still with the capacity for vulnerability. built by the very hands of lucifer, omega is convinced, to serve this great purpose of belonging. of giving away every part of himself. not demeaning to place himself below the man . . . it is simply natural, despite nature's lack of facilitation. long, onyx claws rounding waist to find hand-holds as spats curl on the ground. uniform tugging seams of suddenly too-small cassock as he grows from his stealth height to that of his true form. grandiose. big teeth, gnarled horns &. scarred, black muscles as far as the eye could see. those glaring orbs akin to the night sky, even as he angrily tears off the chrome plate from over his face. ears sprung back against his skull, pointed &. with some subtle missing chunks from his many fights in the underworld.

his spaded tail comes around the short legs standing before him, while wrapping more tightly to opposite thigh. all occurring in such typical regal form reduced to tight, heightened shoulders. but not from the contemplation of begging. no . . . has far in a way torn himself apart before the man's mismatched eyes. does not fear embarrassment. a horse's snort releasing from the great beast that fans across the exposed line of the abdomen beneath his nose. hands &. knees the position to fully make-up the size between the ghoulish figure &. his handler. the pretty, poised &. chosen one. ruler of the leviathan throne. oh, but he'd loved him before that, too. when he belonged to someone else, in a sense. but he'd always found his way home.

"please, sir --" he cringes. such a human tone sounds oddly shaken, even as thighs lower &. he begins nosing around the man's stomach like he were a dejected dog. "you already know i'd do anything for you. why torture me like this?" tortured by this innate desire already, curious eyes snap with the slow draw-back of snout. "please let me serve &. be of service." he bows his head. eyes snuffed to the back of his lids. pride pouring out of his chest &. splattering on shoes. though, omega was a proud ghoul. something elegant woven into sacrifice, even when displayed so primal &. needing.

🍒 @p0pestar 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐃 ↪ 𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂, 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋, 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

[trapton]

18 for henry!! ( @ladyseidr )

🔧 @ladyseidr . 🍑 USFW GIF MEME.   🍑 (GIF)

𝙲𝙸𝙶𝙰𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴 𝚃𝙸𝙽 𝙻𝙰𝚈 𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽 𝙽𝙴𝚇𝚃 𝚃𝙾 𝚉𝙸𝙿𝙿𝙾, strewn on the bedside with the ashtray while william pinches a smoke with one hand, and lazily strokes henry's cock with the other. "mm. . . ." william's cock is wrapped in henry's hot, slick walls. elegantly perched, fucking himself while will does minimal work. pushing his hips up just at the tail end of henry's downward stroke, so that he could reach as much of henry's insides as possible. "your cock has gotten so hard for me, henry." he muses on the tail end of a drag, slowly running his hand along the shaft.

satisfaction lives in his lidded smirk, fucking into henry while his silver eyes take to studying. "you know, this might as well by my cock." william speaks with a lungful of smoke, grunting while twin streams leak through nostrils. his crooked grin edging up his face. "just like this might as well be my hole," he pauses for a moment. - "as though anyone else gets to have you like this. gets to be inside you like this. . . . " his accent is devilishly smooth, low. deliberate.

his cigarette is ashed before it's stuck between his teeth. hips pushing up, while his free fingers explore the expanse of henry's body. his thick middle. "and this gorgeous body." he says, watching with his prick pulsing inside of the man above him while he explored. "mm, god you're perfect henry. do you know that? and it's all for me, isn't it? all mine." voice is gravel and grit. he continues to stroke, all teasing and exactly what the other likes. "i'm the only man who knows how to please you henry. you and i both know that. i might as well control your pleasure." he chuckles at henry's reactions, licking his lips while filling his lungs and removing filter from his lips. "you're mine." he says it again, leaving the smoke on the tray while continuing to touch. "perfect... my perfect little plaything. say it, henry. tell me who you belong to."

[msmoonstone]

She's not in this for love, and she knows he's not either. But the way the rough tips of his mighty fingers glide along the veins of her throat. Wondering so idly what it must feel like to have him grip her throat, squeezing the consciousness into question. Already he has her gasping, shimmering blues rolling just a faint in their hungered haze as they look challengingly on his.

A breathless moan comes through, when he takes her hands by the wrists, doing that beautifully powerful thing and taking her arms out of the equation. Cordelia's back arches off the stone pillar, thighs rubbing together absently in quiet heated anticipation. Oh, she meets every kiss, every heated lock is met with a passion just as burning as his own, she's already finding herself more drunk on his presence than any bottle of cheap fucking hooch she's found.

It's quiet for a second, beyond the profane sounds of their lips wetly consuming each other, and the anticipating writhing of rutting denim. He pulls back, pulls at her lip, and that drunken look is traded for one of returning challenge. Cherry red lips guiding to the edges of her face in a wry grin, showing her clenched pearly whites.

"Big man thinks he's got things figured out already?" Her whole body trembles with need, mouth hanging open like some cheap mewling whore.

"Come on pussy. Stop waiting for me to act." She barbs, brows furrowing in that spiteful way, daring him to do something more than just hold her. Daring him to do exactly what she fucking told him, and stop, as she'd call it, pussyfooting around. "You treat all the little girls you fuck like they're made of glass, pretty boy?"

It would be a mistake for him to underestimate her, he thinks, to shrug off her words and assume she was just talking big for the sake of it. They'd just met, sure, but he got the distinct feeling she was one of those types who liked to severely underplay her capabilities, until it was all too late for her prey.

So, he hums in agreement, giving no protest as she leads his hand to where she wished it to be; fingers oh-so-tantalizingly pressing against her pulse points. A thoughtful tilt of the head, eyes giving her a once-over as his course fingers caress against her soft skin.

Give her a fight. Yeah, he figures he could manage that.

He hears his belt clatter across the floor away from them, but he pays little mind, fingers trailing up that neck of hers to trace along her jaw, " You're good with your hands. What else you're good with?" He comes in quick, like a thief stealing a priceless artifact in the night (an apt metaphor, he thinks), a peck, before he leans back in for a sloppy second, slower, more purposeful, shifting his weight to press her more against the wall while doing so.

" Gonna show me what you got?" Hushed words spoken between kisses, teeth tugging at her bottom lip, his hand sliding along to find and pin her wrist against the pillar. " You show me yours, I'll show you mine."

[lawhurt]

fervent .   to  have  sex  with  my  muse  after  a  fight . ( sarah )

tongue swipes over shoulder blade, his brows narrowed. she's so tiny for such a strong personality. such strong opposition. cannot ever forget despite everything. the dynamic left, but only when there's sweetness between them. domesticity. normalcy. however the moment work is introduced back to their smiling reverie, they turn into their respective selves. though jamie a bit more wrapped up, in the sense that he believes the genuine when it happens, but remains skeptical despite being unable to steer the skid. he's running right for a hydro pole &. there's nothing he can do about it.

his hands are gripping her hips, pressed against her back. body shoved between him &. the wall as his hair falls over eyes . . . not quite as long as it used to be, but still has overhang when not gelled back &. styled the way he's known to wear it. a grunt escapes as her hand snakes up into his hair though the cropped strands at the back. shivering against his form, &. saying his name . . . her wandering hands pulling his cheek against brunette hair.

"hmm . . . we should fight more often." he lies, kissing along her cheek as he presses their lips together, hotly. soft grunt against her lips while the angle makes their overlap a bit more sloppy. her grip keeps him now with a gentle tug, just a hair out of reach. strained smile escaped with a disbelieving laugh. ". . . based on your reaction, i'd say you agree." he breathes, grunting again whilst fingers scramble for shoulder while the other trails behind, as it runs along the slope of her waist. the shoves of his hips rough, &. elicits rough sounds. nose pressed to the side of her face with a reprieve.

"maybe this would have saved us if we had to argue in court." a little something to take the edge off . . . nose bowing against the side of lawyer's face as her fingers pull his grey strands. again. backs of his fingers running along her jaw, &. down the column of her neck.

⚖️ @avemaria ↪ 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑬𝑵𝑶𝑹𝑴𝑰𝑻𝒀 𝑶𝑭 𝑴𝒀 𝑫𝑬𝑺𝑰𝑹𝑬

[muutos]

18. what is something they wish to try? why haven't they tried this yet? for missy!!

missy is a wild girl. i feel like whatever it is that she hasn't tried has been because she either, a) hasn't had the chance - b) hasn't found someone with balls enough to do it, or c) doesn't want to do it in practice.

I THINK maybe, multiple partners at once would be something she wouldn't mind trying out. ofc like, she just hasn't cared enough to. it's hard enough to find people (men) she deems worthy of her, unless she wants something out of them. in all honesty, she would like it though. as long as she's the only girl. (if the other partners are masculine, cause she would do it w two other feminine people no issue depending on the people. ofc she would still have to be the more dominant personality and centre of attention, but that's the only gripe). she likes being the centre of attention, but she also hasn't done it because it walks the line of like, degrading herself which -- she doesn't do. even some things one may expect to be degrading, aren't truly to her, because she's in control of the situation. but with more people, it would be an imbalance.

@cyberpawn. sexuality headcanons and questions.

[aposthates]

🤸 bondage, praise & humiliation for the kink meme!

ohhhh shit, *crackles knuckles* here we go.

bondage: this one is so wonky / hard to answer because while yes he can be turned on by enacting elements of his trauma (massively), it can also get too real - but bringing that into a white-knight/savior fantasy is veeeeery intriguing. considering this is someone he trusted entirely.. and there was a safe word.

definitely not | no | not really | its okay | kinda | yes | fuck yes | there goes my pants bonus: giving | receiving | both

praise: hah.. not even just personal praise, because while he likes to be complimented, he doesn't always feel deserving of them? but this can extend to bolstering his opinions on the mages and validating his viewpoint, and things of that nature. giving praise though, that's his bread and butter. so caveat on receiving, but he's definitely one to express his affection through praise.

definitely not | no | not really | its okay | kinda | yes | fuck yes | there goes my pants bonus: giving | receiving | both

humiliation: this is juicy, because - i think, in fact i know, he can get behind it with the right person. rival!hawke, or fenris specifically. or merrill, even?? anyone he has a rivalry with. i think if he was ever with a former templar, it would be a hard no. but, with the right circumstances he definitely feeds into and gets off on the negativity flowing, and like, i can definitely see him being into a rougher dynamic and being fueled by taunts.

definitely not | no | not really | its okay | kinda | yes | fuck yes | there goes my pants bonus: giving | receiving | both

@putrid-tongue. send in kinks and my muse will rate them.

[muutosarchive]

simon's cooped himself up in his room, laid himself bare on his cot, gently running his fingers across his aching pussy. it's too much to ignore - he'd left from watching his captain train others. it was the way he moved, the way he would deliver sharp orders - the poor lieutenant couldn't handle it. not when it pooled a deep seated want in his lower half. he finally slips his fingers inside of himself, wet and needy, pulling his free hand up over his lips. "ah - john -" the name passes his lips, a soft moan, reserved solely for the captain. eyes flutter closed, then open sharply at the sound of his door's lock clicking.

brows kiss forehead as eyes resemble the wideness of saucers when his attention is full directed at the entrance to his room. of course - it's the only one bold enough to enter. the one who likely just heard simon moan his name with his fingers to the knuckle up inside of himself. he can feel the heat come to his face, and he knows there's red dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears - he longs for the comfort of his mask in this moment; though he knows his naked form displayed here would definitely be more pleasurable for john to look at. he's caught - though maybe that's why he forgot to lock the door. and maybe why he made sure john had seen him leave in a hurry. not that he'll openly admit it.

IT'S NOT ALWAYS AN EASY THING, getting around duties. especially when he's actually supposed to be on shift, &. not just training or working for the sake of performance. however, credenhill was certainly more relaxed. &. luckily there was a lieutenant who was . . . a bit eager, that could get talking if you let him. a showy fella, the lad. so soap let him take over, when he saw that his lieutenant had exited the training area early. cheeky bastard. well, two could play at that game, couldn't they?

he knows exactly what to expect when he enters, however it doesn't make it any less a beautiful sight. his stubble-surrounded lips quirking up at one side as he shuts the door behind him. this time, poignantly clicking the lock before meandering towards simon. hands in his denim pockets.

there's so many things he wants to tell him. how fucking perfect he looks, for one thing. full up on his fingers, with that voice saying his name like that? well, he's liable to devour him right then &. there. but john's casual stance says it all. eyes taking in the perfect sight, &. drinking it like a good scotch.

one knee is cocked slightly, a furry brow quirking. cut in half by rugged scar. "all this fer me, aye?" he asks, his spine arching as he leans back. voice rough around the edges. "well go on, then." he gestures forth with a hand before it goes directly back in his pocket. ignoring the obvious tent of his denim jeans, while rocking back &. forth on his heels. "i came to enjoy th'show, no' interrupt ye."

🍒 @designedparadigm