Could you imagine Qifrey holding your legs open and teaching Olruggio how to eat you out? This idea got me cackling in a corner

Kaledo Art

★

JBB: An Artblog!
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Show & Tell

izzy's playlists!

tannertan36
tumblr dot com

titsay

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

pixel skylines
Three Goblin Art
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
YOU ARE THE REASON

No title available
dirt enthusiast

⁂
cherry valley forever

#extradirty

seen from Algeria
seen from Portugal
seen from Türkiye

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Italy
seen from Algeria
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from Germany

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia
seen from Portugal

seen from Germany

seen from Argentina

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Vietnam
seen from North Macedonia

seen from United Kingdom
@katmalak999
Could you imagine Qifrey holding your legs open and teaching Olruggio how to eat you out? This idea got me cackling in a corner
ok but horny older bf!aizawa tending to his nympho gf who's over a decade younger than him has me in a chokehold
nsfw. legal age gap (33 and 21), sex toys, male masturbation, vaginal sex + creampies, high sex drives
horny older bf!aizawa has two steady streams of income from teaching and hero work, enough to spoil you relentlessly with anything you heart desires. a text from him reads go ahead, sweetheart. buy that, don't worry about the price. you've accumulated a large collection of toys - vibrators, wands and dildos all charged on his card, but knowing he'll be generously rewarded when they come in the mail.
he's most certainly a hands on learner and takes pride in the many ways he worships your body. at the start of your relationship, he felt ashamed of being such a pervert for you due to the ten year age gap. poor man couldn't stop himself from jacking off for hours after that one instance at the cafe.
"it's just stress" oh thank god, it's just the silent killer that slowly kills you, perfectly harmless, no need to worry
THE OOT REMAKE RUMOURS WERE TRUE HOLY FUUUUUUUUUCK
SO EXCITED ALLLLLSOOOOO DELTARUNE
THE OOT REMAKE RUMOURS WERE TRUE HOLY FUUUUUUUUUCK
SO EXCITED ALLLLLSOOOOO DELTARUNE
being a kid and hearing adults say stuff like "woah 2011 was 4 years ago haha" didn't really convey the fucking horror of a youtube video crossing my recommended labelled "9 years ago" and it's from 2017. that's not true. 9 years ago is 2010 or something. don't lie.
Give me your hand and I’ll hold it
Summary- Hannibal notices how increasingly overwhelmed you’re becoming and finally does something about it and his growing feelings for you.
Combining two requests with this with one that said ‘Hannibal who finishes quickly which is unusual for him’ and ‘more cockwarming with Hannibal please’ 💕
Warnings: Smut. Explicit filthy smut. Car sex, cockwarming, p in v, choking, 18+ only thanku. Finger sucking , unprotected sex. Hurt/comfort. Slight praise kink. Written with a chronically ill reader in mind but just use ur imagination ok
A/N- I know I ghosted everyone I am sorry I’ve had a horrible time the writers curse got me good and well fucked anyway. And then my immune system discovered my eyes. What a fucking mare. Pls be nice. 🥹 Enjoy 😘
⛔️Do NOT feed any of my works into an AI we do not do that shit here ⛔️ we work off unresolved trauma and daddy issues x
✮ SEX EDUCATION: where your hot professor teaches you how to cum!
⋆ LESSON 1: GUIDANCE ON HOW TO TOUCH YOURSELF
you're on his lap, your back is pressed against his chest, your legs draped over his. "wider, baby." you spread, your skirt is bunched around your waist. your soaked panties are already on his desk. he made you take them off the moment you walked in, holding them up to the light and tsking at the wet spot.
"there," he says, satisfied. "now i can see everything." his hands grip the soft skin behind your knees and push your legs even further apart. you're completely open, completely exposed, your bare pussy on full display, glistening in the lamplight. you can feel the wetness pooling beneath you, soaking into his trousers, into his chair. "fuck, look at you. you're already dripping, good girl." you whimper and try to close your legs, but his grip tightens. "ah-ah. keep them open. this is a lesson, remember? you need to watch. you need to learn."
you force yourself to stay still, your pussy throbbing under his gaze. "touch yourself." you hesitate. your hand hovers over your own body, trembling. "i said touch yourself, baby. two fingers. start with your folds. feel how wet my good girl is." your hand moves. your fingers slide through your wetness, and the sensation makes you gasp. you're so wet that your fingers glide effortlessly, your own arousal coating them. "that's it. feel how wet you are? you've been thinking about it, haven't you, baby?" "yes," you whisper. "every night?" "yes, professor." "tell me what you did." "i—" your fingers are moving in slow circles around your clit now, and it's hard to think. "i touched myself. in bed. thinking about you." "good girl. show me how."
cw: varka x female reader. smut. we love varka's fat dick 🩷 and yes i said WE.
ohh varka my beloved. i just KNOWWW it's big. i just know each time you fuck him you have to readjust to having him inside you. i just know that he has to tease you and rile you up for a while to make sure you're soaked before he sticks his dick in you-- if you're wet, it's much easier for both of you. not only is it long and fat, he probably gets off on it when you tell him to be gentle or tell him to wait.
"varka, wait. fuck... wait-- you're too..." your voice is shaky, weak under the pressure of him. varka is leaning over you, hands planted firmly beneath you as your legs are hooked around his waist, ankles on his hips and cock fully inside you. "too what?" he asks, his voice low and heavy. he's staring holes into you, his cheeks slightly warm and his lips parted a bit as he pants. his hair sticks to his face some. he's pulsing inside you and you can't even respond. his lips quirk into a smirk and he tilts his head forward, pushing his hips further against the back of your thighs. you moan, and his cock applies more pressure against your walls. you squirm, walls fluttering and squeezing on his length and causing your own juices to leak out beneath you.
he waits. very patiently. giving you tentative little thrusts, bucking his hips to test how ready you are. but the seconds tick past and you have not relaxed a bit. he lifts a hand to rub the back of your thigh, shushing your whimpering. his eyes move down your face and throat, down the curve of your chest and past your twitching abdominal muscles, to where your bodies meet. his cock is lodged within you, and you try to relax, only for your pussy to flutter and pulse in a simultaneous effort to push him out and welcome him in.
you whine, and varka follows it with a slow stroke to push himself in more. he shifts his hips against yours then, groaning and dropping his head to kiss your throat. you're still squirming. you might as well be fucking yourself with him. he huffs.
"relax, baby. stop moving... i wanna fuck you properly before you make yourself cum on my cock."
IWTV Masterlist by Dollie
Armand
Putting Eyeliner on Armand
Fledgling Fluff [requested]
Armand's Companion Fluff [requested]
Madame Mistress (COMPLETED) 1 2 3 4 5
Point of No Return
Ainsi, Cela Continue: A Sequel to Madame Mistress (ONGOING SERIES) 1 2 3 4
Baby’s First Kill [coming soon]
Serve to Live, Live to Serve [coming soon]
Lestat
Madame Mistress (COMPLETED) 1 2 3 4 5
Ainsi, Cela Continue: A Sequel to Madame Mistress (ONGOING SERIES) 1 2 3 4
Putting Eyeliner on Lestat [coming soon]
False Idol [coming soon]
Louis
Ainsi, Cela Continue: A Sequel to Madame Mistress (ONGOING SERIES) 1 2 3 4
Random Scenario involving Louis's weird ass feeding habits
Serve to Live, Live to Serve [coming soon]
On Top [coming soon]
Daniel
Baby’s First Kill [coming soon]
✶ ⠀ what being lestat de lioncourt’s lover is like :
1910’s lestat x mortal fem!reader ⟢ masterlist 18+mdni
starting off strong, he’s a drama king. he pouts when you leave, sighs like he’s auditioning for an opera, and insists he’ll “wither away without your company” as if he isn’t immortal. he’ll even clutch his chest when you tease him.
he stares at you when you talk. he simply just admires the view of the woman he loves. your mere existence is the most intoxicating and beautiful distraction for him. sometimes you’ll catch onto him staring and go, “lestat, are you listening?” he’ll just simply reply, “of course, mon cher” with a soft grin on his face as he looks at you like you hung the moon — obviously he wasn’t listening.
he never raises his voice when he speaks to you. he’s always soft with his tone. he’s too reverent of you to ever be loud. with every word he speaks, there’s love in his voice for you. the quieter he gets, the more serious he is. even when he’s angry, he talks to you like he’s afraid the sound might break you. his control is proof of him trying to be good.
he spoils you rotten. to him, he has a beautiful, whiny doll he created. he gifts you with luxuries a girl could only dream about, holds you close to him every night, and makes sure you have everything your heart desires. even when you complain about something small, he just leans down to rub your cheek and go, “mais vraiment, ma belle. what is it that you need?” — half teasing, half serious. his world revolves around you and it stops when you’re inconvenienced.
he loves your attention. he needs it. a glance your way can make him grin like he just discovered the sun. when you’re quiet, he paces, he worries. it’s a tragedy for him — a true injustice of you ignoring him. he’ll lean close when you finally speak, his voice soft but insistent, “parlez moi, ma belle, je meurs sans vous,” because again, he’s a drama king.
his apologies are even dramatic. expect flowers, an apology letter, and a gift of something he heard you think about. he can’t live knowing that you’re angry, so you never go to sleep that way.
he’s very affectionate. he needs your touch and lives to feel the softness of your skin. he’s always kissing you or his hands are always resting somewhere — the small of your back or your thigh. he needs to feel you. he’ll have you curled in his lap as he hums to you, reads, writes, talks, or just so he can hold you. he’s possessive in a way.
the jealous type. not the loud kind, but the kind that lingers in the room. his smiles turn tighter, his tone a little too polite, his eyes too focused. he doesn’t make a scene, but you feel it. the temperature drops a few degrees. the silence stretches. when you finally notice, he’ll just say, “does he make you laugh like I do?” — again, he’s a drama king.
protective. he’d kill for you, yes, but also he’s always there when you’re out. he petitions that he goes with you when you say no. “i just don’t want you out there alone, ma petite,” he’d say as he’d grab your waist, trying to be persuasive — he is. he’s clingy, he just won’t admit it. he calls it his love and protection for you.
his heart flutters when you tell him he can drink from you. to him, it’s an act of devotion and reverence when he does it to you.
his favorite position is missionary. but not in a boring way. he likes to watch you squirm under him and moan his name as he gives your body what it wants. he’ll wrap your legs around him and pound into you until you’re too dumb to remember anything but, “lestat.” he loves to see your jaw drop and stay there with your eyes rolling back as he makes you come undone for him over and over again.
he’s a romantic. he sets the mood with perfection. lestat was always the romantic type. he’d make a trail of roses to your shared bed, light candles, and make sure your favorite melodies are playing. once he’d get you in bed, he’d pamper you with kisses all over and treat your body like it was the most precious thing he’s ever laid his hands on.
sweet talker (is that a surprise?) he doesn’t stop talking either. he could be whispering the sweetest words in your ear as he pounds into you relentlessly from whatever position he put you in.
he moans in your ear when he’s inside you to make sure you know what you’re doing to him. sometimes he can’t help it, sometimes it’s to undo you even more. it’s his way of praising you.
“you feel so good, mon cher.”
“one more, hm?”
“taking me so pretty — so wet for me.”
he bottoms out and stays there sometimes just to watch you pout impatiently underneath him with your soft whines. “why so impatient, ma petite? you know i’m eventually going to give you what you want,” he’d tease.
he eats you out with devotion and precision. he does it to please you, of course, but he can’t help but to get turned on as well from the way you react to him.
he’s dominant. however, he lives for when you ride him. he craves it more than blood sometimes. he gets really vocal when you ride.
he can be mean, of course. sometimes he fucks his frustration right into you until you see stars. he’ll whisper the meanest words to you, yet he’ll still hold your body with care. he knows what you can take, and he knows how to push your limits. “so pathetic, ma belle. you’re already crying under me.” he loves to see you dazed with desire and teary-eyed from his cock drilling in and out of you. you’re his own personal art.
he’d last forever if he wanted to, he just can’t always bring himself to do so when you look so pretty while you’re all spent and spread open for him after having multiple orgasms that night simply because he couldn’t stop chasing the high of seeing you make those pretty faces and sounds that you made from the first one. eventually, he’ll get all in his head and boom, he’s coating your walls with his warm, thick cum — moaning your name as he did so.
𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝙹𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚜𝚘𝚗 (𝚘𝚛 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚝 𝚂𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕) 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚜, 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙸 𝚐𝚘 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢
serious question for everyone..
why does nobody wanna fuck qifrey??
is it because hes a girldad of 4 daughters?? i barely see smut of him in tumblr.. is there more smut in ao3??
James Wilson x reader thoughts.
Intro: 18+ ahead, minors should not interact.
Also I apologize to everyone who sent me requests, I didn't realize so people would actually request anything from me and I got burnt out. So sorry if I never wind up writing any of them but in the meantime here's some James Wilson because no one's writing for him so I guess I just have to do it myself.
Thinking about Dr. James Evan Wilson right now….
James Wilson whose big and warm hands cup your cheeks as his lips kiss the tears off your face.
Who wraps his arms around you and pulls you against his chest after you appear at his door at 12 am because you were scared and lonely.
Who drives you home and carries you up to bed when you get too drunk at the poker tournament at the hospital, tucking you in and helping you get undressed without looking.
Physical touch is never an issue, the pecks on your forehead and the hand on your lower back is his silent but constant reassurance.
The doctor is older, the faint creases appearing at the corners of his eyes when he smiles, and the slight grey that peeks through his brown hair giving away his true age.
He's a bit traditional, holding the door open for you and taking you out to nice restaurants for dates with his Oncologist money, and never letting you touch the bill.
James’s fingers that brush against your hair as you curl up on the floor beside his leg, the material of his expensive slacks brushing against your cheek as it rests against his knee.
James who gives. Who gives and gives to everyone and takes care of you as best as he possibly can.
He's observant, perceptive. He knows your every insecurity, your vulnerable naivety, and he can't help but feel guilty for needing to be needed by you. Exploiting your innocence.
But it works.
He'll comfort you and protect you forever, like the broken little bird that you are.
Smut under the cut!!
The Velvet Drawl
Characters : Aizawa/ Fem reader
Warnings and Genre : NSFW/ 18+/ Self-stimulation/ Voyeurism/ Praising and Guiding (basically Aizawa using his voice to stimulate you)/ Sexual Intercourse/ Creampie/ Fluff (at the end)/ One shot
Notes : Based on this.
Dividers by @/cafekitsune
Masterlist | Second Masterlist | Third Masterlist
The way he stumbles upon what would later become one of his greatest discoveries is purely accidental.
It’s a typical evening in your shared apartment—after long hours of work and a quiet, relaxing end to the day—when he calls out to you:
_ "Come here princess. Dinner’s ready."
Yeah, it’s his turn to cook, but that’s beside the point.
Because what matters most is what that rare endearment—uttered in that low, rough, and slightly tired voice of his—does to you.
A familiar heat settles low in your stomach, a warm tingle creeping up your neck to the tips of your ears. Your breath hitches, a soft gasp slipping past your lips, and your knees nearly give under you.
How.. strange.
_ "Uh, y-yeah, I’m coming."
And you can’t—for the life of you—hide the fluster in your voice.
But it’s fine. Maybe he didn’t notice?
He did..
He just doesn’t comment on it, not yet.
Not until he sees it again. Not until he’s sure.
You sit together at the table, wrapped in that familiar, comfortable silence as you eat.
Or so it seems..
Because you’re anything but comfortable.
Not after that unexpected discovery, of what he's able to do to you without even trying.
He steals glances at you, a faint smirk curving his lips as he takes another bite, watching you struggle to swallow what little you have in your mouth.
Perhaps he should just test it again. See if he’s right.
_ "Eat. You’ve barely touched your food, princess."
His gaze settles on you—steady and assessing—and you choke on your food, eyes watering as you cough.
He chuckles.. amused and intrigued.
_ "Easy, sweetheart," he murmurs—clearly teasing now—while handing you a glass of water, "drink it slowly."
He leans back slightly, elbows resting on the table and fingers steepled as he watches you through his one visible, heavy-lidded eye while you regain your composure.
_ "You’re laughing? I’m choking and you’re just laughing?"
Despite your frustration, it’s obvious you’re only trying to hide your bashfulness, and failing miserably.
He raises an eyebrow, that infuriating smirk still in place.
_ "I’m not laughing at you, princess," he says calmly, "I’m laughing because you’re not as subtle as you think you are."
_ "What? What’s that even supposed to mean?"
This time, he doesn’t answer—not with words anyway—but what he does next makes his intentions clear, and they are far from innocent.
He stands slowly, pushing his chair back. The wood scrapes against the floor, loud in the otherwise quiet room.
When you look up at him, whatever playfulness lingered is now gone and replaced by something more intense.
_ "Get up." the command is simple yet final, and you see it in the way his visible eye darkens slightly.
You blink up at him—flustered, confused, and in no position to argue—but before you can move to obey, he leans down, one arm slipping beneath your knees, while the other supports your back as he lifts you effortlessly.
You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, breath hitching, heart racing, and heat pooling in the pit of your stomach.
_ "Shouta, wait! What are you doing?"
_ "Conducting an experiment."
His tone is even as he carries you toward your shared bedroom, leaving dinner behind, half-eaten and forgotten.
He approaches the bed, steps slow and measured, before lowering you onto the plush mattress and pulling back, just enough to look at you.
To study the way you struggle to keep your composure.
_ "Alright," he murmurs gruffly, arms crossing over his chest, and a hint of amusement tugging at his expression. "Here’s how this is going to go. You listen carefully, and you do as I say."
Practically all of class 1A is sick, and to Aizawa's horror, none of them decided to stay home from school. Now quirks are going haywire, and he just wants to go to bed. ● implied erasermic, class idiocy, Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead | Dadzawa, Sickfic ● Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Class 1-A
fem!reader. retired pro!aizawa
breeding kink, sex during + after pregnancy
thinking about retired pro!aizawa who’s pushing 40 and daydreams about a family of his own after semi retiring from hero duties in favor of teaching. decades of navigating the criminal underworld gifted him with unparalleled insight, all of which would benefit the next generation of young heroes.
still, a void within him remained in his heart and soul. the proper term would be companionship, according to nemuri and hizashi. as an older bachelor, shouta questioned whether or not he was even eligeable. "nobody wants a man pushing 40 who's never stepped into the dating pool," was his excuse at any social gathering.