#♡.elle

[txmxkis]

Rin!!!! This feels like cheating/not quite answering the question but you’re my “you get me” mutual - like I feel like we’re equally feral over fairly distinct but similar things

it counts to me <3

and i LOVE that i could be that for u and that we can be feral together u are so right for that <333

ALSO???????

IVE NEVER BEEN SO HONORED BY ANYTHING WJNFNWJFIWUFN oh my GOD the love of my LIFE i feel so special 😭

[bunnymaki]

I just,,,, saw ur tags and,,,, the brainrot is so real,,,, hange would absolutely fuck you dumb and then make you choke on their strap I'm LOSING IT

ELLE IM JF;$JQNDSNX&@N!#

im in shambles.... shakinf..... they WOULD.... i'm thinking so hard about their hands rn........ specifically a fanart that i saw w where they had rings on....... i just.......... im gonna throw up

[cal-flakes]

drugdealer!rafe x innocent!reader who gets all sleepy when rafe smears some special sugar on her gums

‧₊🫧꒷꒦‧₊˚⋆

— rafe’s eyes lit up as he saw you push your way through the bodies, determined to reach him before you got swept away in the crowd of party goers. he admired the way your hips swayed as you headed in his direction, the usual sweet smile on your face.

readjusting himself, he held an arm out for you, letting you fall into his arms. yawning, you rested your head on his shoulder, not caring for the numerous kook’s surrounding the table, staring at your boyfriend expectantly. it wasn’t anything new, you both attended whatever parties came up— he’d set up shop somewhere in the house, while you roamed and danced the night away.

he sighed, noticing the familiar look on your face— the ‘i’m tired’ look, followed by an adorable little pout, just about making him cave and whisk you home.

“c’mon kid, don’t fall asleep on me alright? jus’ a little bit longer yeah?” he’d ask so politely, tilting his head to meet your big eyes peering up at him. “m’so tired rafey” you muttered into his neck, eyes fluttering closed.

“c’mere, m’gonna give you a little bit to keep you up alright? give me half an hour and m’all yours” he cooed, lifting your weight onto his lap before fumbling around in his pockets— pulling out a little baggy.

watching him through groggy eyes, he dipped a slender finger into the packet, collecting a small amount of powder before turning his gaze back to you. “open your mouth f’me doll”

doing as you were told, you locked eyes with him, noticing the tug on his upper lip as he stuck his cocaine covered finger in your mouth, smoothing it over your gums. “there y’go, y’look so pretty when y’listen to me” he hummed, carelessly pressing a kiss to your temple while his other hand pulled you into his chest.

[charmmykittygirl]

girly/pink academia >>>>

[ovaryacted]

ok bothering u with another big-brained thought about sub!leon..

leon thinking he's in charge because you let him cum in your mouth only for you to grab him by the throat, part his pretty lips, and spit it back down his throat so he swallows his own cum <3333

and he would do it because he's so fucked out and pathetic for you!!! he is such a good boy!!!!

ok, hahaha. i need to take a cold shower byeeee

love, elle

MDNI/18+. NSFW.

ELLE YESSSSS I like this sooo much omg. Pls keep bothering me with your big brained ideas cause I LOVE THEM MUAH.

The instant switch that goes off in his head from dom to sub when he thinks he has power over you because you let him fuck your throat and of course it feels good. He doesn’t ask to get his dick sucked in the first place, usually he’s content with getting whatever he could out of you, whether that be a kiss or your cunt, he doesn’t care. So long as he’s touching you, that’s all that matters to him.

But when you come back up to kiss him and he tastes himself on your tongue, it makes him twitch underneath you all over again. And there’s a lightbulb that goes off in his head when it happens, and now you’re in full control of him. Hand on his neck, pushing him back towards the bed and straddling him. All he can do is whine under his breath when he feels you grinding against his cock, his tip pressing against your entrance over and over again and never really slipping inside. It’s just enough friction to feel good, but not enough for him to feel the way he really wants.

You tease him so much he feels like crying, like he might die if he doesn’t get to feel you clenching and pulsing around him. But before he could fall apart, you slam your hips down, hearing the delicious shaky moan he releases before cumming inside prematurely from of all the edging. And you don’t stop, you can’t stop. You don’t plan on getting him off easily until he’s an overstimulated crying mess underneath you. You’re going to fuck him until he can’t think and he’s drooling, and when you kiss him again, you can still taste him on your tongue and that helps you cum faster.

What’s better yet is when you spit in his mouth directly, just get to see how the drool starts to spill out of his mouth when your fucking him. Whether or not it’s with a strap or with your pussy, he’ll be fucked out of his mind either way.

[darlingofvalyria]

An abandoned church made most of broken wood and whimpering winds becomes a momentary resting sanctuary for Uhtred and his men— Osferth finds himself with a crooked root in the shape of a hand, a gold ring, and a full, blue moon.

╰┈➤ PROMPTS ❝ COCK WORSHIP, ORGASM DENIAL ❞

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 2,830 ] [ masterlist ] | Osferth x Ghost Bride!Reader

contains— smut, fluff, angsty-ish - corpse bride!au - this is not the N word okay, you're a ghostly being that becomes corporeal. it's monsterfucking, not that kind of filth - no use of y/n - mentions of christianity lol - dillusioned!reader (if you know the movie, you know) - mention of character death - nsfw: sort of dubcon, smidge coercion, cock worship, orgasm denial(?) - no betas.

a/n— ok, but i am actually very proud of this one!! i enjoyed writing this way too much, adding a bit of comedy aspect to it shdhs. i hope you enjoy it!! oh, also this is the vibe you want if you wanna listen. comment, reblog & like at will, mi luvs, mwa!

His pack rests behind him, the couple of bundled furs he uses for bedding has hardened into the cold ground, not at all aiding his sleep. Around him, his lord and the rest of the men had managed to fall into their dreams, almost as soon as they closed their eyes.

Even Finan, with a furrow in his brow and his arms crossed, has his head tilted awkwardly to one side that Osferth knows is going to be painful in the morning.

But sleep evades him, and though he scarcely believes in ghosts, resting in a church, no matter how abandoned, no matter that there's gaping, charred hole that has blown over the side of it, trickling the cold, winter winds and soft, wet snow— it feels odd.

It brings a restlessness and a comfort all the same, and with a few minutes more of staring at rotting wood and broken awning, Osferth sighs. Their small fire is dying, might as well get more dry sticks.

The church, though broken and ruined, offers warmth. Once he's out into the wintry night, the pale moonlight bright and full, glittering the wisps of fluffy snow as if you don't come out wet if you sink on it. It's cold. Much too cold to walk, to linger, but he continues. He winds to the other side, leisure in his pace, breathing in the cold whilst warming his hands with his mouth.

It's nice to find a rhythmic motion that empties his thoughts. It is nice to be out of Wessex, out of familiarity. Uhtred brought with him adventure and battle, honour and excitement. It quieted the wrought in his head... until night comes, and Osferth is left with the weight of all those he tries to bury.

He walks quite a bit, observing and carries a faint sadness for a few graves that are left. Some opened, unearthed by grave robbers, uncaring of the Christian faith. Wooden plaque holding no names, just crosses. He moves past, finding himself entering the forest before he could think through it until he comes across a clearing. It's surprisingly, perfectly circled, trees at the side adjusted like soldiers with a curled root at the centre.

Curious and kind of awed at nature, at the wonder of the existence this little tree root, curled and cold, he dips one knee as flutters his fingers over it. The thin spindles look like curled fingers, a hand reaching in a hooked angle.

When he pushes his hand forward, curling his fingers against the root, Osferth makes a surprised hum at how fitted, how perfectly it holds like a hand against his.

Osferth doesn't notice you, dancing between the shadows and moonlight. Hit by light and you fade with it, more air and light yourself than life and physical flesh. You had seen him and his men find the scarred church and setup camp. The four men had not been the first to find the abandoned place, nor had taken refuge.

And time is everlasting when you're dead. Meaningless when there is no end to days and nights.

But he is different, you muse, watching him unable to sleep and walk and walk until he reached the clearing and your cold, dead heart feels a tug.

Does he know you? Is that why he is so different?

You slink between trees, hiding behind a trunk as you watch him kneel where your body lies, curious and awed, watching as he holds your hand, curling his fingers around your own.

Your left hand flexes, a surprised giggle falling from your lips and disappearing with the wind as you feel his warmth. His hand as if he is holding your own. Human touch fades from memory in a span of time and it is a pleasant hold.

Look down, you try to say, excitement you've never felt before, thrums through your body. Look down and see the ring!

If he does, you know do not need to know who he is. You know who he will be.

Look down, look down, look down! Please! you are practically screaming, jumping in the shadows as his eyes, beautiful blue like your favourite butterfly, is entranced by the glint underneath the snow. You hold your hands to your chest. Oh, please! Please, Please look down!

You exhale, feeling life sweep back into your mouth. There. There you are, you say soundlessly as he picks it up. A gold band worn with age but gold it still is. He twists it around, and though others have tried to steal it, pocket it and sell it, you know he is different. His warmth is different. There is kindness in his eye that you like.

And God, is he pretty. You would not mind at all being his bride.

You're on one knee, now propose, you say, willing the vows of old and binding to reach his ears. He twists it and as if playfully entranced, he mutters the words that you echo back in the shadows.

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows," Osferth murmurs, the words he's listened once as a young boy, hearing the priest anoint two lovers who had escaped to bond their love. "Your cup shall never be empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness."

He raises the ring and places it on your crooked, dried fourth finger— and you inhale air, wintry and cold and so, so alive for the first time in a very long time.

"And with this ring," he says.

"I ask you to be mine," you finish, startling Osferth as you glide toward him. Triumphant. He stumbles, falling on his bum as your arms widen around you in all your ghostly bride attire and glory. "My love! I have waited for you for such a long time. Good thing the ice and winters have been kind to my body and you still manage to find it!"

Though in truth, you had plowed against hard ground to at least unearth your left hand while most of your body had been abandoned. Your skull had cracked in three places, and there's a worm who made a permanent home in your dried liver. But your new husband does not need to know that.

He gapes at you, wide eyed and unblinking, and just as he starts you yell? Shriek— You stumble to him, falling on his lap as you press your hands against his mouth. When you don't pass through him, you let out an excited shriek.

"Oh, my apologies, I don't mean to scare you!" You pout, aged old sadness wisps beneath your eyes. "Please don't scream, my love. I have waited for you for so long. And you're so warm... and so real."

As shock permeates his face, frozen under the feel of you pressing against him— there is weight, he can feel you. You're not as warm as him, cold in fact, and he is able to see through you if his eyes adjust well enough. But you are there. He can see you and he can feel you. Your wide, unblinking eyes drinking him in, exuberant smile composed of pretty lips and a mesmerising happiness. Your hair cascades around a ruined, fluttering veil with dead flowers atop your head.

But by God, you are beautiful.

Your wedding dress— because you are a bride, are you not? Were a bride, Osferth's head is starting to ache from trying to look through and at you — are in tatters and holes, showing more of your skin than what your dress initially thought to show and he swallows. He can see a creamy thigh exposed through a slash. It doesn't help that you're bent over, resting between his legs, and he can see the top of your breasts.

On your end, your hands are just there, on his face, and you start exploring his pretty visage. His warmth is addicting, gliding your fingers through his nose and pretty cheekbones, tickling yourself on his lashes with the pads of your fingers and you giggle. The sound makes Osferth exhale shakily before you are cupping his sharp jaw and your fingers touch his lips, your own mouth turning into an 'O'.

Oh, they're soft and a little chapped, a little cold, but his exhale entrances you. His show of pure, breathing life is tantalising.

You lean in closer, nearly touching his lips with your own as you try to inhale his air. He smells of smoked meat and dried ale. Winter woods and burnt campfire. Your hands drift from his mouth to his neck, to his chest. His heart. There in your palms, you press tight. A quickened heartbeat nestles beneath and you exhale, smiling ruefully.

"My husband." Osferth's eyes widen at the pure adoration and lust in your gaze. "You are wonderful. My wait is worth it."

"Hold on, l-lady." He captures your hands in his, eyebrows furrowed. He swallows as he can feel you both corporeal and wispy. If shadows can be held, he thinks it would feel like this. "H-How am I your husband? Sorry, I've— I don't even know your name!"

What's more is that you're a ghost! But something in his head tells him not to speak aloud such a thing, for another, he isn't sure he hasn't fallen back in the encampment with the others. A bizarre dream of a very pretty, ghostly bride is for one an embarrassing topic to broach.

"Oh. That's right!" You giggle happily, offering your name and Osferth tests in his tongue. A pretty name for a pretty bride. "What's yours? Though, I'm afraid I prefer to call you husband, and would prefer to be called your wife. Or 'your love'."

At another helpless, tinkling laughter, Osferth blushes. Your eyes are distracted by the colour in his cheeks, so long ago contained your own but no more, that you take your hands from his and start petting the rosy tint again. He's so warm that you start nuzzling into him, your head burrowing into his neck.

"O-Osferth." He clears his throat to get your attention. "Osferth, lady."

"My wife."

"Sorry?"

You start to pout. "Call me 'my wife'."

Osferth starts to shake his head. "Lady, I really don't—"

"I am your wife now. See." You sit up, pointing back to your dead hand, gold ring glinting under the pale moon. "You've made your vows and given me the ring. We're married now." Your gaze darkens, your form shimmering and Osferth yelps as you had gotten ice cold. "You have made your vow, Osferth. Are you telling me you do not honour your vows? Are you a man without honour? Is there another... woman?"

Your hands on his face sharpened, like ice, digging through his skin as iff trying to embedded yourself into his skull. He cries out, taking your wrists.

"No, no! I— yes, I am your husband now. I am. There is also no other woman!"

You cock your head, still frowning. "Are you sure?"

"I'm wearing monk's robes, lad— wife," he says helplessly.

"But..." You cock your head to the side. "You don't seem too shock of a woman's body. You're very responsive to me, my love, I enjoy it quite so."

This time, he blushes deeply. "I— Goodness, okay. I've had practice... s'all."

"With... whores?"

He cringes, waiting for you to turn mad, pure ice cold and tear through his skin like you almost did, but you only hum when he nods.

"That is alright. That presents more of a challenge than an obstruction of our love."

"Challenge?" he asks as you gently push him on his back, straddling his hips. You slide your palms up and down his torso almost as if he is a campfire and you are warming your hands.

He swallows at your confident grin before you blow him a kiss and he exhales a laugh, his mind truly unconnected from his body because there is a ghostly woman on top of him, adoring him with flirtations, and he is stirring in his pants.

Truly, he must be deep asleep, in a more awkward position than Finan.

If I am, he thinks watching you with a blossoming attachment. Please, by God, don't wake me.

With a seductive intent, you slide down from his body, making sure you pay a special wiggle in his tenting manhood that he feels a lightning bolt from his cock to the ends of his nerves. He doesn't truly understand what you intend until you've unlaced him and paying special attention to his now, semi-erect appendage.

Osferth is red and sputtering, unable to find the strength to stop you.

You get your face impossibly close to his manhood, your unbridled attention makes his cock inflate until you test a teasing finger from beneath, circling his balls, up and up until you tease the slit and his hips jolt.

"G-God, Oh goodness," he spits, white knuckling his woolen coat. "Please do something. D-Don't just—shit." You test a tongue, laving the underside of his cock until pearly white essence beads from his slit and you lick it experimentally. It tastes salty, inexcusably human and alive, and you decide you like it, especially when you watch Osferth writhe, unable to decide what to do from such teasing little touches.

"Good thing for you husband, your wife made sure to serve a keen listen to gossiping wives behind the church after mass. Well before the raid burnt it all down." You got yourself comfortable between his thighs, loving how snugged you fit against his warmth here, as well as having a beautiful of view of your Osferth. "They spoke salaciously of what keeps their husbands to their beds."

You give him a wink as you enclose your hand on his cock, giving it a firm tug and he chokes. "To keep the whores away." You start slow and teasing, wanting to see what movements pleased him the most, what made him sigh and groan, jolt, hips chasing the feeling of your hand that started to warm and get wet, both from his excitement and the teasing licks you give.

When he started panting, you took your hand away. His head bobs back adorably at you, frowning. "W-Wife? Wha—" But you don't let him finish, sitting up on your hunches as you replace your hand with your mouth, feeling the stretch as he throws his head back again, neck arched. It doesn't hurt, momentarily uncomfortable as you test the feeling of it, the weight now so full in your mouth before you start moving up and down, eased by the slick and guided by his pretty sounds.

And Osferth has been on the brink of peak multiple times, but you kept stopping or slowing midway. At first, he surmised it must be your first time, unused to a man in your mouth but eager to give him pleasure, which he can't help but feel deep fondness for.

By the third peek he's been deprived off, and the little smirk playing on your lips, he realised the truth. But your mouth is a different story. It's hot and heady, just like a real mouth and his stomach is clenching, his pleasure tightening that he's got tears in his eyes, apologising as his hips chase his high in your throat but by the rumble that rocked his cock, it seems as if you were trying to tell him it was okay.

When you started massaging his stones, he was gone. White hot pleasure broke behind his eyelids that he grabbed your head, your veil and hair, dead flowers falling into light as he came, hips stuttering, before holding you down until the last drop of his spend is in your mouth.

He releases you with apologies, chest heaving with tears in his eyes. "I-I'm so sorry, lady, I— inexcusable." He stared gently cleaning your face, unable to realise how much more solid you had become, how much more colour bled in your ghostly blue.

But as you sit back up, you're grinning, unmistakable pride in your gaze as he wipes the corner of your mouth tenderly. You take his fingers before he wipes it on his trousers, coated in him, and licks them clean, sucking hard with a little giggle.

"Good boy," you say. Osferth shudders, his cock already painfully stirring once more.

The Lord have mercy on him. Were there ghostly vixens? Did he marry the only ghostly vixen?

He can't say he's too mad about it.

"Hmm. So that's what it tastes like. I think I like it." You smile, rubbing his thigh. "I also think we are going to have a fruitful marriage, sweet Osferth. What we only need now is one thing..."

He blinks at you. "Hm?"

"Death, my love." You blink back at him owlishly, snapping the dagger strapped to his side. "How can we stay together when one of us breathes?"

Christ, I already have an idea for part two...

[8ightisfate]

[haltertopbabe]

◌ ⃘ ₊ ⏳ •ִ ﹗ ˳ ׄ 🤍⟡ pretty and smart !

（✿◞◟） ✶ 🩰 ࣭ ゚ .𓄹

[starbimbeaux]

Hot girls study!!

[porcelainerose]

by 小熊日常

[scribblevoid]

Los amo aaaaaa

Mico mi bb precioso♡

[txmxkis]

Rin. I just wanted to say how much I appreciate you. You are genuinely a delight and I love seeing you come across my dash, and I hope your day is as lovely as you are (which is very very lovely) 💞💞💞

WAHHHHHHHHHH SOBS N WAILS thank u i feel so shy now WHDBCISJ i love seeing your posts so much and tbh i check your blog at least once a day like it's the news <3

[sweetheartsaku]

blossoms! ₍ꕤᐢ..ᐢ₎

my loves, silly oomfs and pookies waiting lobby. while you're here, would you want to watch the fireworks with me? or the stars if that's more suitable to your liking?

@wave2tyun ✿ alex

@classyinnie ✿ jass

@blue-jisungs ✿ axe

@ox1-lovesick ✿ sav

@amakumos ✿ yun

@eundiarys ✿ jules

@ukitouu ✿ uki

@txtbrainrot ✿ sage

@urszn ✿ esther

@sunoooism ✿ muia

@mazeinthemoon ✿ moon

@mirxzii ✿ roxie

@hyukassubi ✿ subi/rooch

@itz-yerin ✿ yerin

@gyuletters ✿ star

@iiraluv ✿ dia

@sun-of-ghosts ✿ ace

@moaqong ✿ kaz

@okwonyos ✿ bambi

@beomurang ✿ ai

@toadistoast ✿ syl

@mizu-nights ✿ kiyo

@kairoot ✿ milan

@mooflwr ✿ yue

@wonfilms ✿ elle

@autuuuumn ✿ autumn

@bxckkdoor ✿ cece

thank you for being so friendly blossoms! it means so much to me! i love you guys sososo much ♡♡♡

i'm so sorry if you didn't want to be @ !! :(

[cal-flakes]

‧₊🫧꒷꒦‧₊˚⋆

— you mean to say, rafe cameron; the arrogant, conniving, borderline psychotic, kook prince that has everyone on the island, especially pogues, residing in fear of his next plot, scheme or even murder— has a soft spot?

and it’s a girl? a chatty, soft, smiley girl— who goes out of her way to please people, who would go to the ends of the earth for the people she loves, the one who skips around town, dressed in sweet skirts and summer dresses?

you can put your fucking money on it.

he’d stop at nothing to keep her happy, to keep that room-lighting smile on her face. — even if that meant cancelling plans the second tears fell from her glassy eyes.

rafe spun on his feet the second he heard your feet padding down the stairs, his focus on topper’s phone call dwindling by the second. and when his eyes met your tearful, bloodshot ones, he was already wracking his brains for an excuse. “shit, somethin’s come up top’ — i’ll text you later” he spoke, with little to no intention of texting topper later.

tossing his phone aside, he rushed towards you, hands snaking over your shoulders as you sobbed into his chest, pulling you into a deep hug. allowing you to cry for a moment, rafe’s brows knit together as he thought of anything and everything that could’ve possibly happened in the last fifteen minutes, when he’d last been upstairs with you.

“wha’s goin’ on doll?” he mumbled, pulling away slightly to lift your chin gently, stroking your skin as he held your jaw in his palm.

struggling to catch your breath, you frantically wiped at the flowing tears. “i— i don’t— don’t know rafe” you babbled, waving your hands vigorously in frustration.

“m’kay, alright— c’mere, hey— shh, s’okay” he cooed, leading you towards the lounge to lay you on the couch, immediately wrapping you in bundles of blankets.

“stay here alright? m’gonna get changed, n’d you can tell me about it yeah?” he hummed, stroking the tear soaked strands of hair out of your face before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

[bp-trio]

BY AIMÉE LUTKIN PUBLISHED: MAY 04, 2024 1:40 PM EDT

As the city that never sleeps buzzes with the anticipation of the Met Gala, a vision in white captures the heart of the fashion world. Hana, the global sensation and style icon, was spotted adorning the streets of New York, turning the city into her personal runway.

The photograph that has everyone talking shows Hana gracefully making her way into her car. Clad in a pristine mini white dress, she exudes an otherworldly charm that has fans and fashion enthusiasts alike mesmerized. Described as “ethereal” and “goddess-like,” Hana’s presence is a testament to her impeccable sense of style and the undeniable influence she holds over the fashion industry.

But it’s not just her attire that’s drawing attention. A particular image, captured from the back, has gone viral, showcasing Hana’s silhouette in a way that highlights the natural beauty of her figure. This picture alone has sparked a flurry of admiration and inspiration, proving that fashion is not just about the clothes—it’s about the story they tell and the way they make us feel. This image has not only gone viral for its aesthetic appeal but also for highlighting Hana’s iconic figure, setting a new standard for what it means to carry oneself with confidence and poise.

Content creators across TikTok and other platforms have swiftly embraced “the Hana look,” paying homage to her style by recreating the iconic outfit. It’s a trend that speaks volumes about Hana’s impact on fashion and culture.

The “Hana look” is more than just a viral outfit; it’s a statement of elegance and confidence that resonates with people worldwide. As creators put their own spin on the look, it becomes clear that Hana’s influence extends far beyond the photograph—it’s about inspiring individuality and self-expression through fashion.

With the Met Gala on the horizon, all eyes are on Hana, eagerly anticipating how she will next captivate the fashion world. If the viral photo is any indication, we can expect Hana to deliver a look that’s not only glamorous but also transformative, setting the tone for fashion trends to come.

[ovaryacted]

happy peg leon thursday nic <3

also to add to ur thoughts abt pegging old man leon and like REALLY FUCKING him. i would also like to add to the agenda of putting your fingers in his mouth to gag him but he sucks them so tender and lovingly…. ANYWAYS

*cartwheels away*

—elle, daydreamrot

MDNI/18+. NSFW.

ELLEEEE MY BIG BRAINED BABE. I’m gonna assume you meant Tuesday but I don’t mind cause it’s peg Leon day every day to me BAHAHA. You cooked with this thought though. No but I would genuinely peg any of his versions idc (the older the better but 29 Leon MEOWWW), cause I’m just real like that. But it’s something about fucking a 36 year old man in the ass that really gets my gears going. Shit makes me TWEAK THE FUCK OUT.

But fingers in his mouth? Yeah, absolutely. It would start with your thumb on his cheek, gently touching his face and rubbing his plump bottom lip. You can see it in his hazy eyes that he genuinely wants to have something in his mouth. And so you do, you slip your thumb inside and give it to him to suck on as you fuck him, and if anything it only makes him even more whiney underneath you. His tongue swirls around your finger and he uses it as some calming thing to ground him, feeding into his oral fixation and his eyes will roll into the back of his head.

If you really want to get him submissive, put a few of your fingers in his mouth for him to suck on and he’ll just start to babble, probably start to pant and drool right after too. And if you shove your fingers down his throat to make him audibly gag? He’ll cum on the spot like a pathetic fucking thing. Give him a soft slap or two on the cheek when he starts to cry a little to wake him up from his daze, but you’ll just keep going until he’s a fucking mess and doesn’t know right from left.

If he’s extra bratty or just noisy, you won’t even need to put your fingers anywhere near his mouth. You’ll just gag him with your panties, that way he can have a taste of you while you fuck him senseless. It’ll make him cum faster, knowing that he’s gagged and bound and can’t do anything about it, and he’ll make more noise on purpose so you can be a little more rough with him.

I’m crazy, sorry. But I’m glad the pegging Leon agenda is being supported hehe.