Those Random Reblogs, And The Likes Are Amazing To See

I was wondering if you are still doing the courting series that what would happen if someone like ghost it vorangibt figure out your a tiger or a panther as well what would happen ?

Black Panther Ghost With a Cat Variant Reader

In my head, Ghost now uses this information to benefit him in the funniest ways, such as he can get more aggressive during training because he knows you can handle it, or his weird ways of showing affection don’t need explaining because you get it. If you reciprocate back by giving him a lil lick here and there, or making bread on he’ll just gruff and either let you continue or roll himself onto you so that his whole weight is on top of you. This 100% leads to fighting if you try to wrestle him off of you. During training Soaps definitely asked Price if he should intervene between the two of you since things were starting to look a little too intense for his liking. Price just told him the two of you usually practice like this and that it’s normal, afterwards Soap and Gaz hold bets as to who would win by the end of the spar.

absolutely losing my mind over gaz putting his dog tags on you and then tugging the chain when he wants to kiss you. like he absolutely loses his mind, goes feral and whispers against your ear calling you his. like his tags are a claim over you.

“these tags make you mine, my pretty one hm?”

Keep thinking about how price is not the jealous type doesn’t have a streak of possessiveness in him, when asked about he just says he has plenty of trust for his partner and besides he’s way too old to get jealous but then he meets you who’s always referring to price as “my John”, always got an arm around his waist or a hand glued to his hip or playing with the hair at the nape of his neck while resting an arm around him, when out and about you’re never afraid to show affection or be close to him always taking a drag of his cigar while it’s still in between his middle and index finger, always giving him a quick peck and commenting on the taste lingering on his lips “was that black coffee?” You’d say with your face pulled into a frown or letting out a contented hum when tasting the sweet treat he just had, and he realizes that it’s nice to feel like you belong to someone especially when you leave your finger prints onto his hips or hickies all over his body or taking him from behind while he’s wearing nothing but a shirt with your last name printed onto it, or finishing all over the shirt and have him use it as a gag when he fails to quiet down while you’re fucking him into the mattress:/

I remember so many people who head cannon (even in mlp, those wing boners) that any kind of avian character will flutter or flap their wings during sex.

That being said,

Having Gaz stretched out under you, his cock uselessly hanging down between his thighs as you trace his spine just to watch his wings unfurl in this steady stretch.

Watching those muscles tremble between his shoulders as tremors rock through his wings, those feathers practically shivering with every movement of your fingers buried so deep into him he swears your already rearranging his guts.

His back bent and ass up, giving room for his wings to spread out as you work him open. Those quiet moans getting louder as your free hand starts to gently thread through the feathers, this burning feeling consuming his gut.

When he's spilling over the sheets, those wings are splattered out in a way he can't remember doing. Listening to the quiet snickering behind him as you now lean down to whisper,

"So pretty all displayed out under me,"

It's almost funny how sensitive those down feathers of his are,

"Didnt even need to fuck you, your desperate enough for my fingers to do the trick."

I don't know how this happened....

But I'm forever grateful <3

Hii, hi. Hello and Greetings.

This is old. Here is the new one >>>>

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I am the entitie, and I write shit.

Please note if your blog is blank, I will be blocking you.

My pseuds: (big links above DNI)

Ao3: The_Entitie

Twitter: The_Entitie

Be advised that I am mainly into horror. Do with that what you will. Also, (not the line breaks) any and all art or edits I use are from my lovely, and truly adored Aka-Axar on Devian Art.

Do not interact, listed at the very bottom, and will be subject to change. The main rule is: don't be an ass and I won't care.

If I reblog your shit it's cuz a like wasn't good enough for it or I want to save it cuz I want to try your style.

Anything with [#authers notes ] or [#personal notes] is not writing

He/him|it/its|xe/xem|en/ent/entitie|zy/zyth|

[Level 19]

•□~Current Fandoms~□•

Games:

Call of Duty 『COD』

Started Valley

Resedent evil 《OG games, but new renders》

Animated

Danny Phantom 《cartoon》

Justice league 《cartoon》

Anime/Manga 〔English names〕:

Another 《anime》

The disastrous life of Saiki K 《anime and manga》

Death Note 《anime and manga》

Jujitsu Kisen 《anime and manga》

Classroom of the elite 《anime》

Overlord 《anime》

That time I was reincarnated as a slime 《anime and manga》

Sword Art Online 《anime》

Eleceed 《manga》

My hero academia 《anime and manga》

I'm a spider, so what?! 《anime and manga》

Movies/series/comics:

Spider-Man 《tasm, more the comics, some ittsv》

Scream 《movies》

Daredevil 《series and comics》

Superman 《movies》

Deadpool 《movies and comics》

Batman 《movies》

Flash 《movies》

Teen wolf 《series》

Harry Potter 《fuck JK rolling》

Written Stories:

Creepy pastas

Webseries:

Everyman hybrid 《slender verse》

▪︎ xReader masterlist 「SFW」》》》

▪︎ xReader masterlist 「NSFW」》》

▪︎ Fanfictions

▪︎Head cannons 『SFW』》》》

▪︎Head cannons 『NSFW』》》》

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The_Entitie (@The_Entitie) / X

my official account linked to my AO3 account {same name} | he/they/it/zie/xe |

deviantart.com

Aka-Axar - Hobbyist, General Artist | DeviantArt

Check out Aka-Axar's art on DeviantArt. Browse the user profile and get inspired.

Do not interact:

Fegoshi or whatever it's called (girls who get off to mlm content)

Minors or under 18 (including little, agere or petre)

Anyone pro-contact of any kind

Neo nazi or nazi sympathizers. (Dog whistles to look out for)

Zoo or zoo aligned.

Maps don't exist. Your a pedo, fuck off.

Rapist, rape sympathizers

Racist, or white supremacy people. (dog whistles to look out for)

Anti-para (anti paraphile or paraphillia)

request:

reader jokingly puts a bell on miguel o’hara since he approaches so quietly he tends to startle you and the other spiders. he tolerates it because the humor improves work morale

little did he know that the bell will be jingling all night as you fuck him mercilessly

𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗦𝗜𝗟𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗟

✧ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 male reader x miguel o'hara

✧ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 top!amab! reader, bottom! miguel, public blowjob, anal sex, saliva used as a lubricant, consensual suffocation, breath play, implied reader being a spider. minors dni.

✧ 𝖠/𝖭 my archive of editable images of miguel is over, accept this random edit then. I used a lot of words that I don't know very well, so please let me know if I've used something wrong

It was hard to hear anything but the unbearable jingling of the silver bell reverberating through his sensitive hearing; the little ball of iron inside the round shape swayed with fairy clinks where it was attached to the leather strap that tightened around his neck. A joke, had been how Miguel interpreted the unusual gift you said laughing that it was to know when he approached. A lame joke, but still, he let you close the noisy choker around his neck and accepted the kiss you pressed against his lips pursed in annoyance.

During the day, when the spiders shared laughter and a fun that Miguel didn't understand at the gift you gave him, Miguel hadn't paid attention to how the choker tightened his neck, how it accompanied the rise and fall of his throat ─ that he only noticed when you had him on his knees in a blind spot inside the Spider Society tower, and at the risk of being overheard by all nosy and curious spiders, pressed your cock deep into his tight throat until Miguel gasped and struggled for breath, bell rattling violently. The choker felt like your hands squeezing his neck.

After that, the ringing of the silver bell brought a faraway look that no one understood to his face, no one but you. He was remembering that moment, remembering your cock straining his mouth and the sounds you made each time his fangs grazed your cock, the danger of the act that was enough to make you both come, quickly. He found himself unable to get rid of the accessory.

And Miguel was aware of your eyes fixed on his neck as he spoke. Hypnotized. And he would be lying if he said he didn't know what was coming next.

The bell sounded like a drum as you smacked him against the front door of the apartment before Miguel could even close it. You demanded his attention, ravaging his mouth with symbolic violence and sweet urgency, tearing the civilian clothes Miguel wore until they were mere scraps of rags lying on the floor. All this so you could get your hands on his bare skin, map out the scars, the muscles firm and strong and his cock already eagerly hard for you.

You always seemed to want him so badly that it never ceased to amaze him.

You grabbed his bare thighs and lifted him into the air, pressing his back against the rickety door. As if he weighed nothing. Your strength would always surprise you, not because there wasn't someone stronger than Miguel or unable to take him down with pure physical strength, but because you never used your strength to hurt him, you treated him as something fragile and that should be taken care of.

And when the hurried stretching of his hole left him panting and clinging to you, silently begging for more through his grunts and moans and gasps, you kissed him and using only saliva to facilitate penetration, you slid your cock inside him.

The slide knocked the breath out of Miguel's lungs, the friction undiminished by the makeshift lubrication leaving him feeling every delicious inch of your cock opening in his flesh, demanding space.

Lips against his, even though you weren't kissing anymore and the hand that wasn't holding him high, closing around his neck just inches away from the choker, you started fucking him hard against the door. The bell reverberated with a loud bang, swaying along with your movements in and out of his ass and that was all Miguel could concentrate on: the stretching, the burning still there, the sound of the damn bell.

Miguel's eyes rolled back, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks and he searched for air, desperately gasped for oxygen ─ and you didn't have to look at his face to know it, the divine image of open mouth and spittle running down his chin; you could feel his throat rippling under your grip, heartbeat fluttering beneath your fingers. The leather strap there, close to your hand, seemed to become tighter, reflecting the pressure imposed by your fingers.

Miguel was shaking now, talons drawing blood from your shoulders, legs gripping around your waist, unable to move, unable to get away from the deep thrusts he could feel in his stomach or the bell that deafened his senses. He couldn't breathe.

White filled his vision and Miguel gasped as the oxygen suddenly handed back to him, the thud of his head hitting the door a distant sound. Maybe he came, maybe he passed out for a few seconds in your arms, but it didn't matter, he knew you were far from done with him.

The exams I'm currently suffering through decide if I waisted that money on onrolling fees.

I will be back, I will write more Succubus_Reader, and I will write more MS_Reader, I will, and I have drafts already.

I just need to focus, I have to get into this university... I don't have a plan b

COD Men x K-9 Unit reader (WIP)

《《 Part 1 | Part 2

Reader works with a K-9 unit, and his partner is called Mutt, who is a mix breed of Alaskan Akita and Doberman(Mutt is also a service dog as reader has paranoia and C-PTSD). Readers call sign is Riot. The 141 boys needed help tracing a terrorist and John called in some favors to bring Riot and Mutt into the field. He helped the Los Vaqueros as well.

After the mission back at base, reader interacts with the men, and they end up interacting with reader.

Reader is referred to as you or Riot.

Mentions of panic attacks, anxiety attacks, C-PTSD, war, and / or war related violence. Unhealthy coping mechanisms, past trauma. Death of a family member. Torture, scars, and flashbacks.

Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra (657 words)

-Growing up alone, with only his mother. He adored the way you worked with Mutt. Sure, seeing the hulking mass of pure muscle and fur that was your partner is its own kind of scar, but he still adores how smooth you two are when out on a mission. -That fear is cemented when you suddenly whistle sharp and turn almost slaminginto him. Only for a hostile to drop under your hound who tackled them. Holding the enemy soldier down with snarls and jaw snapping in an obvious threat. He leans the cues you give that insight a violent recation, just a show or an actaul attack. All so he can predict the behavior. Not liking the scar. -The way you and Mutt act outside of the field had confused him. Why the hound was still so focused on you, why were you so reliant on Mutt. It's only the years he spent in hostile land that gives him a clue. You survived something. Mutt helps deal with the leftover pain it caused. -Rudy only sees that pain later, finding you down on the floor with Mutt desprerate to get you calm. He's seen how Alejandro deals with this kind of thing, but he didn't want to leave you here. Just to wallow in the panic. Making sure you heard him approach, to mutter. "What's, Oh, mierda. Hey. Hey, Riot?" He'll kneel down beside you when he knows you've noticed him. Making sure to keep his voice calm and quiet. "What, come on, que puedo. How can I help you?" "Talk. Please, just. I can't be in my own head right now. Talk to me. háblame. [Talk to me]" "Ok, ok. Did I. Or have you ever heard how Ale and me met?" "No- no. I don't thin-nk?" "Silencio ahora [quiet now], I'll talk. We met..." -You start seeking him out and learns Mutts call for him. He sees how much that takes out of you and when your drousy and half passed out? That's when you start talking to Mutt. Growling, yips, whines, and just going back and forth with each other. -Its the times he growls back at you, that you snap awake. He'll laugh it off, but after he sees how much fun it is for both of you? He'll growl at you just to tease you or walk up behind you just to growl a breath away from you. He loves it, sees you jump only to recognize it as him, them chase him down across the base. Even in the field, you also play along. On the days when it's quiet and you two need to hunker down for a sand storm. It becomes a norm of you scaring him so bad, he'll jump a foot in the air. -Rudy will start ruff housing with you as well. Even helping Mutt shove you around when you both get the free time to be home. It started small, little shoves and shoulder checks escalating to wrestling. He still growls at you. Hell, he even laughs at you and Mutt, yapping at each other when the two of you ruff house. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, he enjoys the quiet, too. Not nearly as much as the adrenaline of chasing you or you chasing him down, but it's still comfort. -The darker nights for you, the flashbacks, the way Mutt will help with it, he learns it. He slowly starts to ask, saying. "You can tell me fuck off Roit, but. Quiero saber como ayudar [I want to help you]. I need the story to do that." "Ok, well. It ain't una bonita historia [a pretty story], but you asked so nicely so. Yeah. I'll tell you," -After that, he becomes as much of a guard dog as Mutt is for you. Rudy will become the caregiver his mother raised him to be. What he became for her.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick: (742 words)

-His first impressions of you and Mutt were nothing to write home about. You were sent in to help get him out of the hostile area after he was surrounded on a search and rescue effort. He was warned beforehand sure, but nothing will ever prepare him for when you came bursting in with a bloodied hound and a flustered Soap on your tail. Following you out as Mutt killed as many men as Soap shot. To Say it took him a minute to comprehend the level of 'fuck all of that' would be an under statement. He came around to Mutt, but it took a while. -You took him with you to the training grounds. After how shocked he was to see you and your K-9 partner, you asked if he wanted to learn how you both worked. If that could make him feel safer around Mutt. And yes. Maybe just maybe you showed off more than you explained, but you did explain how most of your commands were mixed words from several languages. "Wait, so they'll just drop?" "It's called recall training, so sort of." "Recall? Like controlling how far they go?" "Yip, watch." The whole having perfect control over Mutt took Gaz a bit to accept but watching the hound bolt down a fucking run way before you whistle sharp and Mutt suddenly skids to a stop, and then continue at that break neck pace only to come right back to you at a single call. -Gaz, seeing both of you still moving so fluidly outside of the field just felt like a side effect of working together so long. He doesn't think about the layers of scar tissue over your throat. He doesn't care that you disappear every now and gain. Why would he? Is what he wanted to think until the late nights spent on quiet runs through old hostile infested land. When you start talking him through the pain, ebbing from the through and through bullet hole. Holding down on the slow pump of blood, asking him stupid dad jokes. Hoping the mere spite of saying what cap. Price would is keeping him awake. "It'll be fine... just" "How does dark Vader like his toast?" "No. Roit. Please stop." Gaz begs with a breathless chuckle. "~on the dark side~" Full on laughing now, he half snorts. "I said stop!" -He almost chalks the echoing howl that bounced back and forth as a hallucination from blood loss, but considering that the team found you both as quickly as they did? It can't be. Gaz corners you when you both have nowhere to be and are off duty. It's almost embarrassing to sit down and explain that yes, you howled to Mutt, and yes, that's how you find you K-9 amist all that open land. Now Gaz will ask what else you can copy because damn was that awesome to hear. -Becoming more and more comfortable around each other, he gets to hear you howl more often. Even being there when Mutt first tackled you only to growl. It turned into ruff housing quick, both you and your hound growling back and forth. So, who cares that he also likes wrestling with you. He doesn't, and he sure as hell doesn't tell you how stupidly cute it is that you growl at him when he even gets the upper hand. Never will he let you know how fucken adorable he finds you and Mutt. -Gaz owes his life to you. If not, when he was shot , then definitely when Mutt would have his back as you had to crack down a lock. He's not at all as scared as before, he adores how the hound you work with. He enjoys the dumb sad jokes you two shoot off back and forth, over global coms just to annoy Price. But he loves, likes the way you sound exactly like Mutt. Yes, he will go 'grr' at you sometimes, but the sounds of you and Mutt trying to locate each other over the dark field will always be his favorite. Means, you're still alive. It means he can still fight to pay you back later. Not right now, but when that day comes, he won't be the one to let you die. And don't you dare force him to be a fucking lier.

Keegan p. Russ: (000 words)

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Character Name: (000 words)

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Why didn't you say anything?

Poly TF 141 x sex-demon reader (male intended but has depictions of fem):

A|n: Based on this writer's amazing work and this artist's au. And now this is very long.... I can't just write porn can I? Of well.

Prt:2 is done <3 》》》》》

Be warned I use more Catholic or deamon depiction of our succubus(male) reader, so please expect some body horror esk depictions. Also, the 141 are all in a polycule in this story.

CW: NSFW halfway through after the line break, sex addiction or dependence depicted for reader, threats to health, kind of eating disorder esk, talk of threats/acts of noncon and dubcon to reader (not focused on), polyamory, some talk of religion, why is this so long? And angst??? Ok....

Thinking about being a demon who became the 141's spy. The blood of the damned that ran through you, making you that much more dangerous and that much better at your job.

You fell under the deadly sin of lust, but it's been so many decades that you can't quite remember how you came to be. Maybe reincarnation, maybe you were summoned. It doesn't matter anymore, but it still hindered your intake into the military. You were practically a veteran by the time Price picks you up and drags you into his team.

None of the 141 had ever worked with anyone demonic for an extended amount of time. There had been the call ins and times when they picked up failed missions, but none of them ever really worked with a demon.

Ghost, as a wraith, was the closest any of them had gotten to working with anyone similar to you.

You started out as someone they called to scope out information before a particularly threatening mission. You were just the help, the one they called when they needed a spy. Until they leaned about how every other task force would drop you within a month of calling you thiers.

Price had worried that it was something to do with you or your attitude towards teamwork when he had taken you in, made you one of his men.

That was before he noticed this kind of cycle you would go through. Just when a mission would start, you would pull back. You would separate from everyone, not cold turkey, yet you just wouldn't be present. The training room was one person short, or their would be one less person here on the quieter afternoons he didn't even know this team had.

It was after the missions that you would be more than present again.

You were there again when Soap wanted to run his lycanthopic body to exhaustion just so he could feel just a little more human with the pains it brought. When he was hyper, feeling like he needed to move, you were there to shove him. Drag him into a game of tag or chase or anything to help him move. Soap has never been good at sitting still.

When Gaz needed to be called from the purch he picked to preen his damp or irritated feathers on that was away from the busy noise of the base. Or when his Avian blood told him to take to the sky, you were happy to be taken for a flight or watch him loop around, watch him stretch his wings, across the star splattered skies.

And there you were outside with the nocturnal Ghost, saying you didn't need the sleep most nights and got bored. Even when his form would flicker, tendrils of shadows lashing around his open skin, something that made most run. You stayed with him, hummed a tune you can't remember the origin of, in a language probably only those as old as you would remember.

When Price was struck with phantom pain, when he would feel this pang on his wing only to realize it was from the one that didn't exist anymore. You were there with him. Happy to share a cigar with the smoke that smoldered was neither from his drag nor you. There to sit and fill in paperwork long into the night shift, to just exist around Price when the team was still settling in, or licking wounds.

In the more common areas where Soap would annoy Gaz into another game of cards. You were there to keep the peace.

It had taken Price longer than he was willing to admit to know what was going on. It wasn't some manipulative, carrot and stick, trick no. And it almost seemed like you hadn't consciously been doing it. Before it clicked.

You were a demon, a succubus, to be specific. You fed off of the emotion or the intent of sex.

And you only got that when you needed to get someone to talk. You only lean into it when it's needed for a mission.

He honestly felt stupid, like a leader that failed, but he was quick to right that failure. It wasn't like this team didn't run off and blow off steam together or that they left soap to struggle through his heat alone, nor did they leave Gaz to sit and brood alone. None of that.

And if you were a part of his team, this team, then you can't be starved. Can't be left to weaken, to crave, no. Price wouldn't stand it.

So he talked to the team. Told them his theory, his plan to fix it, and when the team had gotten over the hurt of leaving you alone and weak. They jumped at the opportunity.

Starting small.

Being more openly affectionate around you, never quiet reaching out but still letting the emotions linger.

Those play fights that Ghost would tap out of suddenly just kept going, and those thick visceral emotions none could quiet place the origin of; would hang so heavy in the air you could practically catch it between your teeth.

Those days Gaz would pull back, preen his wings alone; became fewer and far between. Now, the nearest team mate had a lap full of fluffled up wings and pleading eyes. And could Gaz use those honey coated eyes of his to glance up through his lashes and beg.

The quiet chuckles and this ever so pleased emotion would wind around Price's incisors, a satisfied thrill of the dragon flooding a palpable semblance of the satisfied job.

Price started talking about to the team, and they started trying to be more connected, more present, with you so you could have that nourishment. And if that meant that private room doors were left ever so lightly ajar during late nights spent with each other. No one mentioned it.

Soap was the first to notice the actual change.

Your eyes would flicker, puplis vibrating softly before it was shut down, and you would disappear. Or you would actually pull back. He was also the first to tell Price. And thier leader waisted no time.

"You good there, lutenent?" His voice calls softly into your quarters.

"All good Cap."

"Not so sure about that one soldier." Price presses on, taking a step further in to push the door more closed, "You don't play well with this team?"

"No, I have no qualms with any of you. Sorry if it seemed so."

"Ya do always talk so proper like you know?"

"Apologies, old habits."

Price steps closer, easily taking the space offered my your open thighs. Letting that simmering feeling flush his skin.

"Maybe we should start making new ones. What do you say, Sugar?"

His hand hovered just over your throat, careful to keep you feel safe. Price of all people knows what a demon can do when cornered, and it wasn't like he wanted you to feel put off.

He sees what Soap saw, just as his palm cups the edge of your jaw, your pupils flicker. Body dropping almost leaning agaisnt him.

"Why didn't you say something, Suguar?"

"Not of my use in this team."

"You don't need to be useful to eat." He sounded almost angry, calming all the more when you do lean into him, "you never need to earn a meal. Just ask. We all want to help."

That night, he let you ride him.

Laid back against your bed, held your weight by your thighs, and let you set the pace. Even if he was so hard it hurt, or if your dark lion-esk tail would flick across the sensitive inside of his thigh. Or when he's come twice and is practically drooling before he notice just how much more like your kin you look.

He doesn't stop you from flicking a forked tongue over the overwhelmed tears, he only noticed the change at the hitch of your breath when Price tangles his scared hands in your hair. Accidently tracing the curving rams horns that has twisted around your more pointed ears.

Singing your praise, even as you tried and failed to explain that you don't matter in this, just his pleasure.

He shut that down real quick.