tallullahmae

Latest Posts by tallullahmae

petition to start writing more soulmate AUs ? I MISS THEM SO MUCH 😫😫😫💔💔 I know they're all cliche or angsty but PLEASEEEE 🙏🙏🙏 IVE ALREADY READ ALMOST ALL OF EM BUT THE MOST RECENT ONES ARE FOR A YR OR 2 AGO 😭

Fr

“Your boyfriend scares the fuck out of me.”

You tilt your head. “Why?”

“He’s the most massive human being I’ve ever seen and, frankly, I get the vibe that he’s not afraid to go to prison.”

Thank the lord people are learning

u know what? i'm always gonna describe reader as being smaller than jason because, unlike the other characters with decided, specifically agreed-upon heights, he's just ambiguously large. so you can imagine whatever you want. you want him 6'0? great, he's 6'0. you're a tall girlie? perfect, he's 6'2. you're 6'2? bam! he's 6'6 now. you can do whatever you want guys. the world is your oyster.

I think the strangest criticism of queer ships is when people say “no, they’re best friends” or “they’re better as just friends” like bitch they are still best friends. They’re just also fucking. What’s not clicking?

This- this is iconic and I 100% agree apart from the fact that I have an older brother and it would go very similar to this apart from you have missed out one thing Jason would 100000% say smthn along the lines of ‘I have no intention of doing anything you suggest.’ And then do it.

Tim: hey, look at this article need you to drag them

Jason: first of all

Jason: do I look like I have time to read some bullshit written by a literal stalker. Second of all eww why would I do smthn for you. Shitty replacement.

Tim: stfu zombie.

One hour later

Tim: thank you for your counter article it was very nice - also calling them a coward for not apologising for the fact that their last article was racist for calling Damian Bruce’s ‘exotic,’ son nice touch.

Jason: fuck you I was gonna post it anyways you’ve just got okay timing.

Tim: you love me

Jason: gay.

Jason: I ment that to be read as a slur btw.

Tim: you are also gay.

Jason: your point is?

The last 5 parts of the conversation is a 100% re-write of a literal conversation I had with my cousin.

Family is weird.

I physically need Jason Todd to have several popular accounts as a reviewer of, honestly, anything.

New article in Gotham Gazette? A famous five-star reviewer already wrote a comment on what unethical methods the writer had used, along with debunking the rest of the article. And guess what? It has more likes than the original post.

New restaurant opened? Another famous critique just finished polishing a very detailed post regarding everything inside it — the decor, the cooking techniques, the service (he almost never picks up on waiters, though). It is so on the spot that, honestly, the owners can't even argue with the review.

New movie? Uh-uh, be sure you write your characters properly. New vigilante? Get detailed information on your methods of work and fighting style — and, hey, it might be even useful. New book? Be careful, someone is about to kick your ass on the Internet, unless written worthy.

The funniest part? No one assumes that it is the same person.

And the batfamily? Well, they have no time for this. Expect for... Tim.

Tim, sending a link to Vale's article: Hood. Drag her ass.

Jason: lol

Jason: give me, like, an hour–

Tim: Had I told you you are my favourite?

Jason: i might have an idea, yeah

Tim: Hood. The new restaurant is so ass. They are also homophobic and stared at me and Kon the whole evening like we killed someone. Do something.

Jason: sec

(The restaurant gets closed in, like, two days after that)

Tim: Jason. Bruce pisses me off this week.

Jason: LOL

Jason: wake up, birdie, the new article shitting on Batman's technics just dropped

Tim: YAY

I wanna know where people have lately gotten the audacity to leave comments on fanfics talking about how much the fanfic sucked and negatively critiquing an author's fic like it's a published book review.

It pisses me off cause I've seen authors abandoned or delete their fics because of this.

You're getting fanfics for FREE! No one asked for your opinion.

I hope y'all know as authors we get email notifications when you comment so we see EVERY comment that's been left.

We also can see the negative reviews you leave when you bookmark our fics

Having a large boyfriend is all fun and games until he figures out he can use the same tactics to move you around as he does with the children he works with (SEN Teaching Assistant) like this stupid mitherfuxker has MULTIPLE TIMES moved me like you would a toddler or a child - yk like hands under armpits.

I’m not small either I am 5’11 and weigh about 12 stone (160 pounds ish for the members of upper Mexico ) and this stupid sexy large man with his pretty brown eyes and his stupid hair that sticks up when he wakes up and his moustache that makes me sneeze when we make out because it goes up my nose calls me SMALL AND CUTE AND KISSES ME ON THE FOREHEAD AND I WANNA MARRY HIMMMMMM

He also made me a cuppa this morning and said ‘tea for my little fairy,’ which makes me happy.

I love him and all my friends hate it when I talk about him bc he’s just dead silent when they’re around (yes 6’5 men with neck tattoos do get anxiety but people don’t think that and they just think that he’s rude) and I need a rant.

I love him

I don’t like myself a whole lot but I know I deserve to be called sweetheart by a big beefy broody man that hates everyone but me at least once in my life

jason todd can’t stop staring at your lips. it’s kind of embarrassing actually, how obsessed he is. he hasn’t even kissed you yet but just the sight of them pulling into a smile, lip balm shiny, is enough to have his head spinning. he thinks it’s adorable when you pout, your lower lip poking out. he wants to know what it would be like to bite it — gently! — until it’s puffy and swollen. he grips the restaurant table so hard it starts to creak when you look up at him through your lashes, mouth wrapped around the straw of your milkshake. stiff as a rock in his jeans and desperate for relief but he can’t because you’re in public and he’s terrified of scaring you off.

he’s so, so embarrassed that sometimes he doesn’t comprehend a single thing you’ve said when you get to rambling because he gets lost in the way your mouth moves. how you form the vowels and the consonants, the barest flick of your tongue against teeth. the hint of a shine when the light hits just right and he gets all wrapped up in thoughts of if you’re wearing gloss or if your lips just naturally look that perfect.

just, jason todd that wants to kiss you so bad and he thinks he’s being soo slick about it when he couldn’t be more obvious if he tried. maybe you’ll let him kiss you tomorrow. if he’s good.

jason todd x gn!neutral reader

a/n: inspired by this incredible piece of art by @jjenthusee, part of the february acts of kindness challenge

“dance with me,” you say, slipping off the couch and extending your hand.

“hm?” jason todd hums, finger marking his spot in his book as he looks up at you.

“dance with me.” the music fills the apartment like a physical thing, a neighbour’s practice session with their trumpet seeping through the walls.

“what, now?” he asks. you nod and hold out your hand again.

“c’mon, it’ll be fun,” you cajole him. the lamplight in the darkening evening gilds him golden. he hesitates and you sigh. “please? the world could end tomorrow or i’ll end up getting called into overtime in a never ending loop or maybe you’ll break a leg slipping off a roof—”

“i’m not that accident prone!” he defends himself indignantly. “i haven’t been injured on patrol in three weeks!”

“yes, yes, and i’m very proud of you darling but my point is, the future’s an unknown country and i want to dance today.”

he laughs at your plaintive tone, but he pushes up from the couch, leather creaking under his shifting weight and grabs a hold of your hand. he uses it to pull you close, a little twirl that makes you gasp thrown in for good measure. you rest your cheek against the plane of his chest, warmth seeping through the cotton fabric of his shirt, and sigh. the trumpet player, whoever they are, aren’t perfect. there’s slightly flat notes and rhythms taken a half beat too fast but in the moment, it’s perfect.

what is decidedly less perfect is coming home the next evening to a crouched figure on the fire escape, the cherry red end of the cigarette the only indication of life. you sigh, then set down your groceries on the counter before going for the first aid kit under the kitchen sink.

“you’d better not be dying out there,” you call out. the figure twitches, then turns to face the music.

there’s blood on his face. no matter how glib you might sound or how many times it happens, it always opens up a pit in your stomach. your fingers tighten around the plastic of the first aide kit.

“oh sweetheart, don’t worry, it’s just a lil’ blood.” he’s aiming for reassuring but it’s landing somewhere north of cocky. you roll your eyes and lean out the window to take his chin in your hand, turning his head gently to get a better look at the damage.

“anything broken?” you ask instead.

he stubs out the cigarette on the little ashtray you’d insisted he keep out there if he wasn’t gonna stop smoking, and moves to join you inside the apartment.

“my pride’s a little banged up but that’s about it. should have seen the knuckle dusters coming,” he sighs, hand ruffling through his hair. in the distance, your neighbour takes up his trumpet again.

“looks like your injury-free record is back down to zero,” you tease, the first aid kit back under the sink. to your surprise, Jason’s standing right behind you, smelling of fresh air and nicotine.

“got anything frozen?” he asks, jutting his chin out towards the groceries still sitting on the counter, abandoned.

“no but—”

“good. let’s dance,” he interrupts you, a half smile tugging at his lips.

“what, now?” you ask, aware of the absurd parody to the previous night.

“no better time,” he insists. he pulls you to the centre of the room, where there’s nothing to stop him from twirling you about. “the world didn’t end, you didn’t get called in to overtime, and I didn’t break my leg.”

“might’ve broken your nose,” you sniff, trying not to let his charm get to you. it doesn’t work. he laughs, head thrown back and unguarded.

“pinkie promise it’s not broken, just bruised sweetheart, like my ego’s gonna be if i can’t you to dance with me.”

you plant a quick kiss on his bloodied cheek and let out an undignified giggle when he tries to dip you.

“i’ll keep coming home to dance,” he murmurs into your ear, pulling you close as he pulls you upright. “s’long as it’s with you.”

the trumpeter plays on, a little more on key and a little less out of time with your heart.

Y/n: *sneaks into the castle at 2am*

Marcus: *turns in a chair* care to tell me where you were?

Y/n: I was with… Uh......A....Aro!

Aro: *also turns in a chair* Care to- *keeps spinning* Marcus I can’t stop the chair.

Frankie with a reader that comes back from the “girls night” with a sternum tattoo? 😂

omg ok I think at first he'd be SO pissed like a Dad and then when the shock wore off he'd think it was so hot.

Maybe you even show up at home that night, still drunk and freshly tattooed. You'd be getting an EARFUL. First of all, you Ubered home when he very clearly and explicitly told you to call him for a ride when you were done so he's already jumping to his feet when he hears you fumbling with your keys at the door. And then you pull of your coat to reveal the hint of a tattoo?? Girl run.

"The fu--" his voice trails off at the sheer shock of it.

"It's a TATTOO," you exclaim with glee, tugging down the top of your shirt so he can see more.

"Yeah I know it's a tattoo sweetheart. Mind tellin' me what the fuck you were thinkin?!" he asks, gently touching the sealed and bandaged skin.

"Me and the girls went together!" you explain as if that actually answered his question. He swipes a frustrated hand down his face.

"What's the name of the place?" he demands, already planning to give the owner an earful about tattooing someone who was clearly inebriated.

"Jade Dragon," you reply in a sing-songy voice, bending to tug off a boot and stumbling to the side. Frank catches your fall by the elbow and shakes his head.

"The couch," he barks, "now," as he guides you over to sit. You comply, your ears still ringing gently from the loud bar. Frank tugs off your boots one at a time and then stoops to lift you, grunting as you do nothing to make the effort easier.

"New yoooooorrrrk," you sing into his ear as your arms are draped over his shoulders and your legs dangle around his waist, "concrete jungle where things are maaaddeee oooooof"

"Alright Alicia Keys," he says, plopping you on the kitchen counter and filling up a glass of water, "Drink," he adds, putting the glass up to your lips.

You take a single small sip and place it down but Frank scoops it up again and hands it back to you, "nah nah, all of it."

As you sip the water and yap about the events of the evening, Frank quietly assess the damage on your chest, unbuttoning your shirt and squinting to to get a better look at the black ink. Through the protective film he sees two gothic initials: FC.

He stands and flicks his eyes to your face and stares for a beat while you keep talking before he cups your head in his hands and gives you a tender kiss and then plants two more on your nose and forehead in quick succession.

"What am I gonna do with you huh?" he asks, taking the glass from your hands and lifting you again to get you ready for bed.

ya’ll don’t understand the pain when you try to search for x reader fics with a certain character only to find incorrect quotes or those short imagines with other characters

HEADKANONS MK1 | "REACTING TO THE VOLUME OF THEIR BULGE APPEARING IN YOUR BELLY" - 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 + 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐊

TW: size kink, afab anatomy, pet names, v!sex, hard smut, not reviewed.

BI HAN, SHAO KHAN, SHANG TSUNG, KUNG LAO, KUAI LIANG, JOHNNY CAGE, BARAKA.

Fucking him on top of you was always too intense to be true, he was a big man compared to you - and he made a point of making this dynamic very clear, he loved power, how it made him feel so powerful and relentless in compared to your small body, he could easily break you and that was fucking exciting for him. You opened your legs for him like a needy slut for his cock, while he poured a series of delicious degradations in your direction, going with two fingers up your wet and needy hole, while his other thick hand came against your face, forcing you to watch his fingers aggressively work on you, saccharistically placing the blame on you for having such a tight pussy - he loved how tight you were, but he also loved seeing you blush with embarrassment.

"-Oh come on angel... Don't be shy..." He moaned, smiling roguishly, while placing his dick on top of your pussy, making a comparison to your entrance, his hard dick reached your navel easily. He made a quick movement, without any warning, making you jump and arch your sides in a loud moan that echoed through the walls, he placed his hands on your hips, running his thumbs over your skin, soon seeing the bulge that formed on your skin, he could see his own cock taking you, it was too much for him, a primitive moan, perhaps even animalistic, left his lips, as he accelerated with all his might, moaning with every movement he could see under your skin, knowing that he was filling you completely, he is totally arrogant about it, taking one of your hands and taking you to the place.

"-Feel it baby... This is the power I have over you, only I can fuck you like this, you hear? Only I can fill you like this." he moaned hoarsely, smiling as he sped up even more, he was going crazy with every movement seen outside of your womb, he loved it, he loved being so strong compared to you.

"-You're going to cum, right? After all, you love a huge cock inside your little pussy." He placed his hand on your waist again, marking with his thumb where his dick went, while he leaned in and whispered in your ear between screams of pleasure. "-I'm going to fill your fucking uterus with my semen, and breed in that beautiful pussy, right?"

LIU KANG ,RAIDEN , TOMAS VRBADA, KENSHI, ZEEFFERO, QUAN CHI, HAVIK, REIKO, SYZOTH.

Fucking him while you sit on his dick, with his body sitting on the messy bed - sex before bed, with all the passion and with the intention of killing the longing he felt for you during the day, he knew it was a: A big, strong man, his muscles overcame the clothes he wore - he loved holding you in his arms, suspending you around, while he fucked you in every corner of the house.

He would kiss you passionately, while your hands went behind the back of his head, while his eyes slowly opened, seeing his hard cock, close to your pussy, the comparison was huge, he was always afraid of breaking you, often he just he would let you rub yourself against his thigh or over his dick, without any penetration or even inserting just the tip of his shaft, but when you asked for more he would back away, even if you begged for more, he was a patient man.

But that patience ended a while ago, and he needed that. He moaned more, as he watched you slowly sit on his cock, warming him with your heat, the sound of your wetness, he grinds his teeth as he felt the paradise of your walls squeeze him, he would try to ask you if you were okay, but soon he would see the bulge in your belly, making him tense with desire and moan loudly as he threw his head back.

"-Fuck dear, look at this... Mmm- Ah I can't control myself Mmm-" he then made a quick movement with his hips, thrusting everything inside you, stretching you wide open, as he always wanted. His strong, veiny hands met your hips, squeezing the soft flesh, while his eyes focused on the length that was exposed under your belly, making him grunt and sputter, passing his fingers with each thrust of your cunt. on him, drooling the thick length inside you - he was addicted, the vision of filling you up completely, and seeing you feeling pleasure with him slamming the fat head of his dick repeatedly into your sweet spot, made the big guy cum without warning someone, filling you with cum, with hard thrusts and even bordering on pain with so much pleasure, like a thin line of desire.

"-Ah- fuck, I'm going to fill you up... C-cuming-" he screamed as he emptied his thick and viscous contents into you, the sensation was overwhelming, leaving you with even more volume in the uterus, even with him slowly leaving you.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

I have a naughty thought floating in my head.

Just imagine when you and Lucanis are doing 'adult' activities when his control over Spite slips and Spite takes over.

Your normally gentle lover is suddenly rough and groping at your plush thighs and tits. He's whispering filthy things in your ear about how he always has to watch, but now it's his turn.

Just a filthy thought in my head.

A/N: YOU LET THAT THOUGHT RUN FREE AND GIVE ME MORE.

Lucanis does it best to control Spite during the times whenever you two become intimate.

He knew you control himself, you did take down a god after all.

But he knew it would happen sooner or later even though he wished it would be much later. Lucanis knew of Spites desires for you, feelings....if things like him could even feel that way.

Lucanis knew he should have been more careful, should have drank more coffee since this was your anniversary after all but all it took was one moment, one small lite crack that Spite could slip through as the man made love to you.

A cry leaving left your lips, your hands pinned above your head as Spite gripped your lips tightly. Hips snapping into yours, leg hiked upon his waist as he roughly fucked you. He couldn't get enough, he wanted more.

More...more...more!

Your skin soft, he had to memorize this, memorize every inch of your skin, every blemish, every scare, he will remember.

"Sitting back...watching. No more! No more." Spite whispered in your ears as he hiked up your thigh more, slipping deeper in your warmth, your walls squeezing so deliciously around his shaft.

Giving your plush thighs a squeeze, his hands moved up your chest giving your breasts a squeeze as he let his thumb rub your nipple.

"Mine! Mine!" Spite muttered as he continued his thrusts. "I will fill you! Breed you! Make you mine."

Biting your lip, you let out another cry as you did your best to match his thrusts. Moans spilling from your lips, bed creaking, your mind in a fog.

It felt good, too good and in the back of your mind you were thinking of ways to convince Lucanis to share you with the spirit.

But right now you were going to enjoy this.

Heartbreaking

hey i’m obsessed with lucanis (and spite) as well! I’m wondering if you would be interested in a mourn watcher elf rook x lucanis and have it be the week (or weeks i can’t remember) of rook being trapped in solas’ regret prison. i feel like spite would be pissed and confused as to why rook is missing! thank you and best wishes :)))

Lights Out

Pairing: GN!Rook x Lucanis (x Spite)

Summary: Rook is gone. Lucanis is grieving. Spite is restless.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Really depressing shit, spoilers obviously

A/N: I’m sorry this isn’t longer! I felt like dragging it out too much takes away from the visceral gut punch it is.

DATV Masterlist

Death was all Lucanis had ever known.

It clung to him like a shadow, a constant presence in his life as a Crow. It was his trade, his art, and his curse. The blood he spilled lined his pockets but left scars on his soul, marks he carried with him even when he tried to move beyond the life he once embraced. But death had always been something controlled. Until now.

Rook was gone. You were gone.

He stood in the doorway to your room, once petrified by the thought of how it reflected the Ossuary, now only drawn to what was left of your presence. His hands flexed at his sides, his chest feeling hollow.

The night was heavy with silence, the Lighthouse mourning the loss of its leader. Spite stirred uneasily in the recesses of his mind, his voice a low growl that rippled with confusion. “Where. Is. Rook?” The demon hissed, each word sharp as one of his daggers.

Lucanis didn’t respond immediately. He had no answer, and the truth stung worse than any wound.

Spite pressed on, his voice gaining a harsh edge. “Where. Is. Rook?!”

Lucanis could feel Spite’s frustration growing as he was ignored. Your absence was a gaping void, a wound that bled frustration and fear and loss. There was nothing he could do. The Fade was something so far out of his understanding, even with the demon possessing him. Still, he’d spent days searching, combing every lead, every thread of information he could grasp, only to find himself standing here, fists clenched in futile rage.

“Lucanis!” Spite snarled.

All he heard was you screaming his name as you were pulled into the Fade. He relived that moment every time he closed his eyes. What could he have done different? You had survived against impossible odds, and he had gotten his second shot at Ghilan’nain, somehow killing her. That high was quickly dashed as he watched your wide eyes, saw you reaching for him, screaming for him as you were dragged out of his reach.

“They’re gone, Spite,” Lucanis whispered, barely audible. 

“Where?” He demanded, pushing against the boundaries of Lucanis’s mind as though searching for you.

“I don’t know,” Lucanis’s voice was ragged as he huffed, taking a step further into your room and closing the door behind him. He ran a hand through his already-mussed hair. “They’re gone,” he repeated.

The faint scent of Nevarran spices drifted around the room, and the lingering smell of your oils. The things you had on a day to day basis haunted him. The Nevarran urns around the room and hastily scribbled notes on Elven architecture and the runes you’d found during the group’s travels. 

Lucanis didn’t have the heart to go any further in the room, his back pressed firmly against the door. His chest was tight, and he was finding it almost impossible to breathe, but all he wanted was to drink in your scent as long as it lingered. It was all he had left of you.

He had fought his way through countless battles, defied impossible odds, endured the Ossuary, and survived Ghilan’nain’s wrath, but none of it mattered now. The one light in his life had been extinguished. Every breath hit him like a blow to the chest, the tangible reminder of your presence that made his breath hitch. Every object in this room screamed your name, echoing in the silence that now filled the space.

Lucanis pressed harder back against the door, his legs threatening to give way beneath him. He forced himself forward, gripping the edge of the chaise lounge as he sat down heavily. His head fell into his hands as the weight of his grief threatened to crush him. He had dared to hope. After years of blood and shadows, he had begun to believe he could have something more---someone more. And now, that hope lay in ruins.

Spite stirred uneasily in the recesses of his mind, his presence a simmering heat that was neither comforting nor intrusive. The demon was quiet at first, an uncharacteristic stillness that only deepened the ache in Lucanis’s chest.

The room seemed to shrink around him, the walls pressing closer as the grief threatened to suffocate him. He reached out, almost without thinking, and picked up one of the notes you had left on the desk. The parchment was worn, the ink smudged in places, but your handwriting was unmistakable. His thumb traced the curves of your letters, his hands trembling as he clutched the note like a lifeline.

“You were my freedom,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible. Tears blurred his vision, spilling over to streak down his face. “The only thing that made all of this worth it.”

Spite’s presence shifted, his usual arrogance subdued by something almost… mournful. “Rook…” the demon murmured, his voice a low growl that trembled at the edges.

Lucanis’s grip on the note tightened, his teeth clenched as guilt and rage swirled within him. “I failed them,” he hissed,his voice trembling with self-loathing. “I should have done more. I should have saved them.”

Spite didn’t argue. Lucanis wasn’t sure he was listening at all. The demon was restless, his silence heavy, a shared grief that settled over them both. “Rook.” Spite said again, pushing against Lucanis’s skull. He wouldn’t settle. He couldn’t. Spite wouldn’t stop moving, stop searching, looking through Lucanis, looking through the room, searching for his Rook.

“Spite…” Lucanis said wearily. “Spite, they’re gone,” he repeated, his voice cracking.

“Rook!” Spite pounded against Lucanis’s mind, screaming as though it would do anything to bring you back.

“Spite, enough!” Lucanis yelled finally, hands tangling in his hair. “Rook is gone! Gone! The one good thing---” His voice broke, and he couldn’t finish. The anguish in his chest was too much, a wound that refused to heal.

Lucanis pressed the note against his chest, his shoulders shaking as he fought to contain the sobs threatening to escape. For a long moment, he simply sat there, the silence of the room broken only by his ragged breaths. The scent of you lingered, faint but persistent, wrapping around him like a ghostly embrace.

Spite shifted again, his presence like a smoldering ember in the back of Lucanis’s mind. “Lucanis…” the demon growled quietly.

Lucanis’s hands stilled, his breath catching. “I know…” he whispered. “I know.”

You were gone.

And he didn’t know if you could come back.

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

A/N: I'm not crying, you're crying ;-;

Let me know if you want to be on the Lucanis Tag List <3

Tag List: @cirillabelle

I have a naughty thought floating in my head.

Just imagine when you and Lucanis are doing 'adult' activities when his control over Spite slips and Spite takes over.

Your normally gentle lover is suddenly rough and groping at your plush thighs and tits. He's whispering filthy things in your ear about how he always has to watch, but now it's his turn.

Just a filthy thought in my head.

A/N: YOU LET THAT THOUGHT RUN FREE AND GIVE ME MORE.

Lucanis does it best to control Spite during the times whenever you two become intimate.

He knew you control himself, you did take down a god after all.

But he knew it would happen sooner or later even though he wished it would be much later. Lucanis knew of Spites desires for you, feelings....if things like him could even feel that way.

Lucanis knew he should have been more careful, should have drank more coffee since this was your anniversary after all but all it took was one moment, one small lite crack that Spite could slip through as the man made love to you.

A cry leaving left your lips, your hands pinned above your head as Spite gripped your lips tightly. Hips snapping into yours, leg hiked upon his waist as he roughly fucked you. He couldn't get enough, he wanted more.

More...more...more!

Your skin soft, he had to memorize this, memorize every inch of your skin, every blemish, every scare, he will remember.

"Sitting back...watching. No more! No more." Spite whispered in your ears as he hiked up your thigh more, slipping deeper in your warmth, your walls squeezing so deliciously around his shaft.

Giving your plush thighs a squeeze, his hands moved up your chest giving your breasts a squeeze as he let his thumb rub your nipple.

"Mine! Mine!" Spite muttered as he continued his thrusts. "I will fill you! Breed you! Make you mine."

Biting your lip, you let out another cry as you did your best to match his thrusts. Moans spilling from your lips, bed creaking, your mind in a fog.

It felt good, too good and in the back of your mind you were thinking of ways to convince Lucanis to share you with the spirit.

But right now you were going to enjoy this.

One batch, Two batch. Penny and Dime.

Heyyy

Whatdya’ think about Frankie with a reader that pouts and whines when things don’t go her way?

-🍅

I think that secretly... Frank loves it. It's in his dom nature to deal with a brat dynamic and as an acts-of-service guy, it kinda always gives him the opportunity to "fix" something for you. It's like this little validation system that he seeks out to earn his "gold star."

The deli made your sandwich wrong and you huff and puff about it when you get home? Frank's now got himself a task to complete. He goes to the grocery store, buys every ingredient he needs, and makes the sandwich himself so he knows it'll be perfect. And then he gets to act a little grumpy but secretly pleased when you thank him like "Glad you're happy sweetheart. You were poutin' so damn hard that I thought you were gonna trip on your lower lip there."

And Frank would constantly be fixing situations just so he could tap his stubbly cheek and ask for kiss, which you'd gladly oblige.

The minute he'd see that pout on your face he'd just pat his lap and say "Come 'ere -- tell me what's wrong doll" and you'd climb into his lap and whine about whatever thing and he'd be swiping his thumb back and forth on your hip as he listened and giving you little "mmhmm" and "that right?" every now and then and then he'd come up with a plan like he always does which usually involved you getting comfortable on the couch while Frank set out to fix whatever problem you have.

I fuck with this

Sugar daddy!Minotaur Boss who’s always on time each month to give you your allowance and your days off from work. Except he has a rule where he has to give it to you in person, knowing you’ll run late (he’s purposefully vague on the meet-up time) and so you’ll have to make it up to him and earn the gifts he’s so generously giving you.

He watches you with rapt attention as you bounce on his cock, your pretty plush body moving with every hard smack of your bodies meeting. His hands caress you roughly, taking their pleasure, yet make no move to help you ride him. You can feel him so deep inside you, you can barely stay upright. But your allowance is just next to him and with every twitch of his cock he slides over another hundred. “Go on, be good for me. Know you’ve been wanting to go on that trip. Let me give it to you, baby.” And suddenly you’re riding him even faster, working you both into a fierce climax, wanting those paid days off so badly.

Sugar daddy!Minotaur Boss who agrees to take you on shopping sprees whenever your cute self desires. But only on that condition that he gets to personally choose all your lingerie.

He no doubt always walks in with you into the dressing rooms. Watching you undress and dress up in outfit after outfit till he’s nearly shaking. It gets so bad that by the time you get to the lingerie shop he’s snapping before you can try anything on and he’s taking you hard against the wall, slamming quickly into your hot core. Letting out low huffs, his tail whipping around in agitation as he ruts up into you. “You better wear that red number t’morrow at work. Won’t be able to keep my hands off of ya.” Just the thought has him pumping himself into you even harder until he’s got you squirting all over the lingerie he was already planning to buy you.

Sugar daddy!Minotaur Boss who doesn’t want anything serious but gets jealous when you bring up going on a date later tonight after work.

He cant help but drop your butt on top of your desk, stopping you from thinking about someone who isn’t him for a second longer. He’s bunching up your tight skirt in a flash and sinking his length all the way down to the hilt. He throws his head back, releasing a long groan as your warmth wraps around him so snugly. “Y’know I think you’re gonna have to work some overtime t’night, love. That alright with you?” And he starts fucking up into you, leaving you only able to respond with a weak moan. He won’t stop till you’re boneless, brainless, and with only his name on your lips.

Sugar daddy!Minotaur Boss who knows your limits and relishes in pushing them till you’re so close to breaking. So he frequently makes deals with you, paying you a grand for each orgasm you give him while staying awake.

He gives your cheek a nice love tap, forcing your eyes to flutter open. A whiny mewl falls past your lips, body jerking with each brutal thrust as Minotaur Boss just keeps going. His cock never softening inside you no matter how much either of you cum. “Wakey, wakey, sweetheart. Gimme one more orgasm and you’ll be able to afford that pretty dress I saw you got ‘ur eye on.” Choked whimpers leave you as his cock brutally grinds against your cervix in a way that has your toes curling and your body shaking. Your orgasm sneaking up and blowing through you so intensely you nearly black out.

Sugar daddy!Minotaur Boss who pays for your phone after seeing the older model you have just so he can always know where you are when he sends you out in work-related errands. He also can’t deny the burst of pleasure he gets every time he sees you use it. Knowing it was him that provided it for you.

He often misuses the gift though, not that you have any issue with it. His husky voice crackling into your ear through the phone as he works you through another release. Fuck, you’ve had so many you’ve started losing count. But he just doesn’t stop talking, babbling on about anything and everything. Your damn work schedule tomorrow, the taunting idea of raising your allowance, and all the things he’s gonna get for you. “Be ready to thank me next we see each other. Might surprise ya with some new panties I can rip off or a new lip glass that’ll look so good wrapped nicely around my cock.” He ignores your whimpers, urging you on and on with his words until you’re crying out into the speaker and gushing all over your fingers.

💘

Jason Code I

aka when what he says isn’t what he means

“You’re alright?” = he’s not asking if you’re okay he’s asking whats wrong

“You wanna come?” = please go with me

“I’m fine” = i’m irritated

“I’m okay” = ptsd triggered

“You’re good” = i’m here

“Whatever” = yeah, that’s completely fine

The only reason I haven’t slept with this man Is because he’s playing hard to get.

(He’s fictional btw)

my blog is NOT a safe space for trump supporters by the way so if you voted trump or just lick his ass unfollow me thank you kindly

I’m so sad… time for an x reader fan fiction

Is he a scary man covered in blood? Or is he my baby girl? Spot the difference

thirsty tongue thursday 👅