@thereallordphoenix - navigation
Rulesย - Musesย - Wanted oppositesย (especifically females)- Memes - Aesthetic - NSFWย - Plotsย - Kinksย - Discord
No title available
art blog(derogatory)

PR's Tumblrdome
Game of Thrones Daily
trying on a metaphor
AnasAbdin
dirt enthusiast
Sweet Seals For You, Always
i don't do bad sauce passes

titsay
styofa doing anything
noise dept.
ojovivo
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Misplaced Lens Cap

Product Placement
KIROKAZE

tannertan36

@theartofmadeline

#extradirty

seen from France

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Indonesia

seen from Belgium

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from France
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Tรผrkiye

seen from United States
@thereallordphoenix
@thereallordphoenix - navigation
Rulesย - Musesย - Wanted oppositesย (especifically females)- Memes - Aesthetic - NSFWย - Plotsย - Kinksย - Discord
Oberon had been a relatively happy king for some time. The gods had gone to wherever gods go. And the dragons, at least the truly powerful ones, had all been in their slumber. The centuries were turning to an age. And his power was unmatched... well, maybe except elves. If only fairies were serious about something. Surely Oberon wasn't. And still, somethings were a mood killer. Thunder and rain could make a whole lot of days worth of tricks on humans... but then, weeks, months? By the time he reached the spot where the magic was the strongest, Oberon was soaked to his fae bones. Dressed in his royal attire and wings majestic as that of the prettiest butterflies on display, he stood on a small boat that smaller fairies had blown towards the small island created by that eternal dragon.
"Oy." He screamed out, hands behind his back as he waited with a stuffed chest. "Lord Dragon of whatever thunder you master." He rolled his eyes. This was the third, or forth attempt to nicely wake it up. "Okay. In the name of all the faes, I command you to awake." Moving a hand, he snapped two wet fingers and an intense brightness surrounded the two of them, making several spots bright with rainbows. It was a harmless, but annoying magic. It surely would wake it up.
Surely.
"Master Dragon, don't fucking break my balls here."
His sleep was so deep that not even shouts at the top of their lungs were enough to wake him, but that soon changed when the colored lights hit Touga's scales, the multiple simultaneous needle pricks were enough to wake him with a yawn strong enough to blow the fairy raft to the other side of the pond. "Heavens! I don't remember scheduling an acupuncture session," he murmured as soon as his eyes fully opened. He stretched his front claws and finally looked around, seeing that the landscape had transformed in the days he remained asleep due to the flood he had accidentally caused. Unable to let this situation continue, he rose from his muddy bed towards the sky and blew away the storm clouds. Then the dragon flew over the puddle of water that had once surrounded him, hovering near the small boat. He grabbed the crew member he recognized as the one responsible for waking him from his sleep by the tip of his coat collar, using the tips of his claws. "Thank you for waking me, tiny one" he said in a smug tone, poking the red-haired male's stomach with the claw of his other paw.
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ข๐ ๐ด๐๐๐๐๐๐
Was this what conquering would feel like once this war was over? Magnar knew he had conquered the bard. He knew there was nothing in him resisting anymore, and this was even before the teasing words came along, a short-breathed whimper on Magnar's ears as the dragon and his large body and thick cock fucked so hard the bed beneath them cracked as if begging for release, for mercy. But the bard did not beg anymore for this. He begged for more. It was in his eyes and in that silly taunt.
"I will pray to all the gods they are as beautiful as you, love." He whispered the words in the dragon language, overtaken by a heat he was unable to resist. With how hard he was going, there was hardly a way to stop himself now. He might have a human form, but he was a dragon, a beast through and through. And there was nothing stronger than the urge to breed. Howling like a wolf in heat, he exploded inside the bard's guts, load after load bloating that perfect belly, pushing it with his cock too until the ripped abs were almost like the belly of a pregnant woman in its first stages. He growled heavily, sticking his cock as deep as he could, panting when the orgasm's effects were finally receeding. He did not even know or care if the bard had came too. He fell over him, heavy and locking him in that tight embrace, his hole filled with cock and cum.
Skylar's senses were dazed, not only by the spell, but also because it was easy to become stunned between the dragon's bestly growls above him and the creaking of the bed, which was enduring the thrusts with less tenacity than the smaller male had. Finally, Magnar came, his seed gushing in thick spurts that warmed his lover's guts. If before there had been a small bump on his belly, now it had grown, and now he felt bloated. Finally, the king's body fell on top of the bard's, who, so exhausted, also ended up falling asleep. After the climax was finally reached, the spell dissipated while they slept. Skylar woke up first, and what he had wished had only been a nightmare had actually happened. His whole body was sore, Magnar's penis kept his ass still loose and gaping, and his stomach ached terribly, a strange burning sensation as if poison had been pumped into his insides. He was terrified and began to sob as tears streamed down his face; the plan had gone terribly wrong for him and culminated in him being bred.
Jon Bernthal | The Punisher: One Last Kill (2026)
The Daredevils, Tom of Finland, c. 1960s.
@rhapsodc
Leaving his home in higher mystical planes, Touga traveled a long way until he stopped in a realm of idyllic and quite pleasant aspect, perhaps it would be a good place for him to settle, but at the moment he was exhausted. Whether he would stay or not would be a matter for him to decide when he was rested. Still in his dragon form, he lay down on the grassy ground, his spine winding through the valleys around a cluster of small hills. Although less practical, he found this more comfortable than sleeping in his human form. Such was his weariness from the journey that he neglected his own powers. As soon as he settled on the ground, the sky over him was covered in thick clouds, and as soon as he fell asleep, it began to drizzle. Soon the rain intensified, and then came the strong winds blowing the leaves from the trees, but he remained motionless, not even the flash of lightning or the roar of thunder could awaken him, after all, these instruments of nature's fury were his old companions. For days he slept like a stone, but in contrast to his unbothered drowsiness, chaos reigned in the lives of the poor inhabitants of that realm, streams overflowing and flooding the dry land, trees and houses being gradually uprooted by the storm. Whoever ruled that place would have to go to Touga, and would need a boat to cross certain stretches of the road.
JASON MOMOA On The Roam 2.02
His fingers reached, curled, reached again. The instinct was relentless and involuntary. To touch, to act, to do. And each time it met nothing but warm air and the soft boundary of the silk. His hands existed at the very edge of usefulness, present and achingly aware, yet suspended just beyond the threshold of any purpose.
It lived in his chest, that feeling. A low, persistent pull, like a word caught at the tip of the tongue. His shoulders held a tension that had no outlet, his arms a readiness that could go nowhere. The simplest reaching gestures, the kind the body makes without thought, without permission, died quietly at the wrists.
His hands remembered everything they could not do.
For a moment, free air hit him in the face, soon to be covered with more sweaty goodness before Seb could complain. As best as it could, his body rolled. It rolled into nothingness, into air that felt freezing against the glistening head of his cock. In turn, his cock bounced free with every buckle, and landed against his stomach with a wet slap that offered only a smidge of relief.
"Plump from all the breeding." Seb all but growled from beneath Dante's armpit. A dark chuckle followed. "Plump and fuckable, like you like it. Isn't that how you like your piggy?" He taunted back. All the unresolved lust at the tip of his engorged cock clouding all judgement.
The dirty words spoken so sweetly by the blond aroused Dante, and he would reciprocate in kind. "Exactly, I'm going to fill you up so well that you'll be bloated with my seed..." he said while pinching and twisting the other's erect nipple. "I'm going to breed you so much that your tits will be juicy and ripe..." he hummed while gopping one of the meaty pecs. "I'm going to rail you until you're sore and loose..." He was reveling in the way Sebastian adored his hairy, stinky armpit, letting the musk permeate the younger man's nostrils.
After a few more minutes, he finally lowered his arm and moved to face the blindfolded male, but his fingers continued to play with the pink nub, until Dante lowered his hand to grasp his boyfriend's throbbing cock, squeezing and massaging it firmly. "You're such a good piggy, Sebโฆ" said the older one before grabbing the blond's jaw and squeezing it to force his mouth open. He grinned before spitting into it. Finally, he lowered himself so that his face was close to the tits framed by the tight ropes, his hand continuing to masturbate Sebastian's dick. He licked his lower lip before finally leaning forward and licking one of the sensitive nipples.
๐ฎ๐ ๐๐๐พ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐๐๐บ
@thereallordphoenix asked: Smutty gif starter A. romantic (ย 6ย ) for Aidan x Evan (my muse is the one cooking)
The kitchen smelled like butter and coffee, warm and familiar. Aidan padded across the tile in socked feet, drawn not just by the smell of breakfast but by the sight of Evan at the stove. Relaxed, unhurried, visibly messy from sleep.
He crossed the kitchen quietly and slipped his arms around Evan from behind, pressing his face into the curve of Evan's neck and shoulder. He felt Evan exhale. Not surprised, just settling, leaning back into him the way he always did, like Aidan's arms were something he'd been waiting for.
Aidan let his hands splay flat against Evan's stomach, palms pressed warm against the soft fabric of his shirt, fingers fanned wide. He could feel the gentle rise and fall of Evan breathing, the faint warmth of skin beneath cotton. He traced no particular path; his thumbs just moved in slow, absentminded arcs.
He tucked his chin against Evan's shoulder and watched him push eggs around the pan, neither of them saying anything yet.
His hands drifted downwards, fingers curling at the edge of Evan's boxers. Steadily, he slid the fabric down to free the plump rump he'd been playing with the night before. His fingers reclaimed ownership of the round mounds with, seemingly, no opposition. They slithered further along the other's crack, digging into the warmth with a certainty that fizzled out just milimeters away from Evan's entrance. Teasing the ringed muscle with gentle pressure.
Aidan pressed his lips, barely parted, against the side of Evan's neck. Not a kiss exactly. A breath with intention. He felt the slight hitch in Evan's movement, the way his shoulders softened further.
"Good morning," Aidan murmured against his skin, the words more felt than heard.
The eggs were probably getting overdone.
He was always an early riser, he enjoyed cooking, so there was an unspoken agreement between him and Aidan that Evan would be the one to get up first to prepare breakfast. Although, on this particular morning, getting out of bed had been a challenge for him due to the intensity of the previous night, he was still a methodical man, and it wasn't simple exhaustion that would make him break the routine he followed so diligently. The eggs were being stirred nonchalantly in the frying pan, as if he were on autopilot, so much so that he didn't even notice the older male's presence until he felt his torso against his back and his toned arms around his waist. Evan relaxed in Aidan's embrace, feeling a slight tickle from the rough beard brushing against his neck and shoulder.
The dark-skinned man let out a nasal laugh as his lover's calloused hands slid inside his pants and gripped his round cheeks. "Calm down, white boy, I'm still sore from last night" he said playfully, but without showing any resistance or pulling away from the possessive embrace and devious touch. When the fingers reached the valley between his buns, he couldn't help but let out a needy moan, almost a whimper, and he again allowed himself to be dominated by his greedy lover, but the smell of burning coming from the frying pan made him turn his attention back to the eggs, which, although slightly charred, were still perfectly edible.
"I was preparing a meal for you," he whispered softly as he turned off the heat, "but something tells me you want to eat something else."
The plot is rich. Deep. Sometimes shirtless.
Even though Solomon's redeeming qualities were nonexistent, the boy could never help but feel drawn to all this wickedness; his demonic side appreciated this twistedness, and his human side merely responded to the stimuli. The two fiends were in a way like a diad, the father being the sadistic half who delighted in harming the one he knew would always love him, and Forest the half who was willing to indulge those whims because for him harm was like affection, a vicious and profane cycle. He felt his breasts swelling again thanks to the heavy thrusts the older male's thick cock was giving him in his aching hole; arousal was what made the milk flow, the hornier he was, the sweeter the milk would be in the priest's mouth. As much as he was an abomination, the hybrid was beautiful, even more so when he sobbed, even more so when he cried, even more so when he was suffering, even more so when he was being abused, and even more so when he was hurt.
"You know, Dad, I love you more than anything," he stammered, stroking Solomon's scalp as he continued to breastfeed him. "My love for you is greater than the hatred I have for everyone else," he said between moans as his bottom was roughly railed. Forest let out a groan of relief as he felt the demon's load filling his insides, the same seed that had begotten him was now inside him. "Fuckโฆ" he hissed as he felt his tummy bloate, to the point where a slight bump softened the contours of his shredded abdomen. The hatchling was already dizzy, drunk on dick, the last thing he managed to do was squeeze his hole around his progenitor's meat, milking his cum, and then fell asleep, knowing that even while he slept, his body would be used by the priest.
Solom pumped his seed in his boy until the very last drop was pushed into that hairy hole. He didn't stop moving, even if his pounding slowed a bit. His whole body trembled at the amount of pleasure of this release. Most of the times, fucking Forest was nothing more than a quick emptying of his balls. He needed a hole, he fucked one. But this time, the orgasm proved how big and better it was. Solom had barely registered the words the boy whispered to him. He ignored them completely as he continued to milk those hairy tits, sucking on the reddened nipples until he couldn't anymore and his body was exhausted, falling up those filled up breasts. Fuck. If a demon could experience paradise, this was as close as it would look like for him.
After a moment, Solom let out a loud sigh. He was smiling! He was even smiling when he finally moved his head to look at the boy. His cock still buried in that warm hole, squeezed in its delicious wet embrace. It had started to grow soft but when Solom noticed Forest sleeping, something in him lit up once more. His boy had slept out of exhaustion. His ass fucked, his tits sucked. He slept heavily there and Solom gave him a twisted smirk. "Oh, the things you can do for daddy." Without leaving the insides of him, Solom started to move again. "Let's see how much it takes to wake you up, whore."
danis_delmono