#a bit ooc

[yoyrif]

My version of his casual wear! And aquarium date with the birb

[abyssh4rk]

a bit ooc,

but i instantly imagined it like this

now i need more info about the Witches who turned into cookies so I can do "cannibalism as a metaphor for love" for Black Forest Cookie

[asphalt-xd]

Matt Mello week day 2: fake dating

Their first undercover mission where they had to steal the identities of a young couple!!

Preparations X)

Yeahhh... not the smoothes mission

@mattmelloweek

I hope you guys will like this one ^0^ I tried to finish it as fast as possible so no grey scale colouring unfortunately 😔

Luv you guys ^^

[dreamland-library]

Imagine that on your wedding day, Titus asks for the right of the first night...

Imagine that on your wedding day, Titus asks for the right of the first night, and your brand new husband - who just promised to love you for the rest of your life - did nothing while the Danforth servants/guards dragged you away.

Once you were locked in his room and left alone, you started looking for a way out, then, in the lack of any other option, you found yourself a makeshift weapon. The only sharp object you were able to find in your short time of waiting, full of panic and rage, was a very expensive-looking antique mirror that you did not hesitate to break and grab in a with an equally messy handle in the form of a towel.

You managed to surprise him and put up a good fight, but you ultimately had no chance against someone who was preparing for life-and-death fights his entire life.

Titus was delighted by your enthusiasm for bloodshed, though. And instead of demanding what he supposed he had a right to take, he informed you of what awaits you as the new bride of a major family in the Organisation, then he sat back to watch how you prepared to unknowingly become his dark queen.

Because as much as he enjoyed flaunting his power and pissing off your soon-to-be ex-husband, he would much rather make you his on your own wedding night. Tomorrow.

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[rogue-0f-time]

They’re new to it, but they’re trying.

[cest-la-vie-farewell]

NINE: Hey everyone. I'm gay.

HUBBLE: yeah no shit

TEN: Easy, Hubble. Thank you for telling us, Nine. We love you.

JUICE: i just hit someone with my car

[bunny-fair]

Horus x Reader NSFT

What if we put the warmaster on his knees in a collar and strangled his cock with his own leash? There's some degrading, teasing, bullying the big dog

Horus Lupercal, First Found, Warmaster, the Emperor's Favorite Son, Primarch of the Luna Wolves was brought to his knees

Heavy cock dripping, hands tied behind his back, knees spread. A collar was drawn tight around his neck, leash of fine leather fed through the ring. Hazel eyes wide, pupils so dark and wide they threatened to consume the thin irises.

He knelt at the foot of a chair too large for his baseline lover, his lover who held the end of his leash, who stared down at him with disinterest bordering on hate. Head tilted back, eyes narrow, one leg over the other. The vision of loathing ownership

"Please," the warmaster begged, "let me taste you."

He would find no relief, no reprieve until he had brought them pleasure. His tongue danced behind his teeth, almost drooling with how much he yearned to taste them. His mouth ached as much as his cock, both in deep need to taste and pleasure.

They tugged on his leash and he obeyed, leaning closer as the collar tightened. "You look pathetic."

He nodded eagerly. All cockiness, all sureity was gone under the view of his lover. He was a dog, begging for a mere taste of the treat held just out of reach.

"I am," he admitted, voice thick with arousal. "Pathetic for you."

They scoffed, uncrossing a leg as they pulled him ever closer. They prodded his weeping cock with the top of their foot, staring as it bounced and twitched. At the slightest touch, thick cum spurted from the tip.

He groaned deeply, eyes fluttering. His hips jerked forward. His cock was flushed a deep red, the head leaking thick cum. His thighs, so thick with muscle, trembled.

They stood, pushing his shoulder. He fell back with a heavy thud, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. He stared, taking in how they settled upon his thighs, his leash still wrapped loosely held in their hand.

With the excess length of rope, they wrapped it around his cock and squeezed. His thighs twitched and he let out a choked gasp. Cum dribbled thickly from his cock, wetting the leather where it ran down the fat length.

They squeezed his cock with the leather, choking it and dragging a choked moan from his throat. "Void, you should see yourself. C'mon, 'Warmaster', beg."

He gasped when they gripped his sack, squeezing the heavy balls. With the tightness of the leash, he was unable to do anything more than whine as his cock twitched and leaked. "Please," he gasped.

"Please, what?" They snapped, squeezing his ballsack. It was heavy, too much for their smaller, softer hand to cradle fully but it didn't matter. "Use your words, dog."

He moaned at their touch, their slim fingers rolling his sack, palm cradling the soft skin. "Let me - Let me cum. Please, it hurts, it hurts so much. My cock-"

His voice was choked out as they squeezed his sack, his cock twitching. More cum gathered around the band of leather, soaking it. His hips twitched, his muscles taut in restraint to not dislodge them lest he incur their ire.

They tightened the leash-band around his cock, squeezing it tighter. The head was turning purple, blossoming deeper colors by the passing breath. "What about your cock? Does it need relief? You want to make a mess of me?"

He shook his head quickly, eyes wet and wide. "Not of you! I wouldn't make a mess of you!"

They laughed, the sound cold, cruel, as though there was no love in it - no love for him. He knew the truth, deep in his hearts, but in the moment, he only knew of their cruelty. Worse, his cock loved it.

They squeezed his sack, rolling the malleable flesh in their fingers. "Weeping for a mortal?" They taunted. "How sad. How far the warmaster has fallen. Not even on his knees anymore but on his back."

He could do nothing as his cock wept. Under his back, his hands clawed at the floor, arms straining against his binds. He could snap them with ease, but he didn't. Not for them. For them, he kept himself restrained, entirely at their mercy.

He nodded, though, looking at them with tearful eyes. "Only for you."

It was true, no other living soul would see him laid out like this. None other would live to see the Warmaster on his back, cock the color of pained bruises, tied and collared like a dog. He was a pet, nothing more than a tool on display for them.

They continued their torture of him, staring at the weeping cock of their Warmaster. Such a grand title for a grand man who'd fallen so far. All for a baseline! How... pathetic.

Their lips curled and they tightened their grip, squeezing the heavy balls in their hand, keeping a vice grip on his weeping cock. He moaned and whined, thick chest expanding, cum soaking the leather band.

They teased their warmaster, watching as his breathing grew heavy and sweat beaded along his brow. His sounds alone filled the room, his panting, his begging, his deep moaning. They gave him nothing more than their hands and the leather around him, staring as cum dripped and dribbled down to the surrounding thick tuft of hair.

Finally, though, they offered mercy. At the first slip of the leather, his cock twitched and cum spilled, erupting from the tip. Thick ropes landed across his chest, his balls squeezing as his cock twitched and jumped.

He moaned in relief, eyes blissful and distant as every tense muscle in his body finally released. His lips moved with murmured, incoherent gratitudes and whispers of adoration. He blinked slowly, face flushed, breathing heavy, cock still twitching with the last spurts of cum as it settled against his lower stomach.

They stood, dropping the leash onto his messy frame. "Void, you need a bath now."

As they went to pass him, his hands shot up. It was as though he had lost no energy at all with the speed that he grabbed their waist and ripped off their pants. They shouted at him as he all but tossed them - gently, of course, careful to not damage his beloved - to the floor.

He grinned, eyes black with pleasure as he spread their thighs with big, rough hands. "My turn."

[michis-peaches]

Madeline Ashton getting photographed wearing a baseball cap that says “Lover Girl” while happily wearing a necklace with Helen’s name on it.

A blushing Helen Sharp that gets asked about it the next day while she’s doing an interview for her upcoming novel and she only smiles and says “That’s my Madeline”