#tail fuzz!!

[raoza]

Got lazy and ended up just drawing them in casual clothes 🥀🥀

[swaglet]

here is jellybean btw you can see her peach fuzz growing in. she looks like a sphynx cat rn

[ragemodes-obsessions]

Kurt appreciation. My only complaint is the ponytail? I don't know why I don't really like it.

It makes him look off.

[cnsys]

meet Danny Bliss (Danny B for short)... Part of Honeycomb's little posse. A smooth jazz troll who dreams of being a hypnotherapist and killing chaz on sight

shes a sweetie pie whos trying to make a good name for smooth jazz after all.... That

[deletedelight]

DAVEKAT YURI BEAAAMM

[kuroeko]

back fluff

[scrunglepaws]

Doodles to songs in an attempt to wake my eepy ass up

Tycho - Coastal Brake Anna Nalick - Forever Love (Digame) Sean Paul - Temperature

[fisherrprince]

i swear to you my very reputation on the line i will give every ffxiv race more weird alien/animalistic features than they already have

[invaderfuzzytalon]

watched birds at a golf course the other day, and witnessed a female grackle chasing away a roadrunner, as well as another dive-bombing

[breakerbeam]

i gave my persona a fursona :-) is name is goldfinch

[stormvanari]

i love it when people draw disassembly tails fuzzy

[sakura-wisteria]

Honey & Fur

“Mamaa… mamaa… mama!” The high-pitched chirping of the little voice echoed through the wooden halls of the cabin, padded softly by the hush of snow falling outside. You let out an exasperated sigh, barely keeping the tiredness from your voice. Again. You glanced over your shoulder and saw him. A small, chubby, fuzzy-pawed creature toddling after you on plump legs, his button nose twitching and wide brown eyes fixed on you like you were the whole world. Which, unfortunately, to him—you were. “I told you to stay with Papa,” you murmured, crouching down slowly. Your hands trembled slightly before they settled. You were careful not to show fear. Not in front of him. He didn't deserve it. Not with him possibly watching. The little cub beamed, arms stretched up high as if his tiny bear brain had already forgotten your instructions. Or maybe he never intended to follow them in the first place. You hesitated. Despite the soft fuzz of his paws, the cute wagging of a puffy tail, and the toddler’s sweet baby scent, he wasn’t… exactly yours. But he called you Mama. And you had no choice. You reached out slowly, fingers brushing the warm fur of his arms, and lifted him gently. He was heavier than he looked. Round and warm and clingy. His ears twitched with joy, and he immediately buried his face in your neck with a delighted squeal. “Were you a good boy?” you asked softly, the words automatic by now. He blinked up at you, eyes sparkling with pride. “Yea!... I good!” he chirped, nuzzling closer. “Didn’t hurt squirrel today!” “That’s…” you swallowed, “…that’s very good.” He reached up with his tiny fluffy paws, making grabby hands. “Pet me, Mama! Pet, pet!” Your fingers hesitated above his little head his ears twitching in anticipation. Behind you, the wooden floor creaked. Your stomach knotted. You gently began to stroke his head, smoothing down his fluffy ears. “Good cub. Sweet boy.” He let out a purring sound, so low and rumbling it reminded you of something much bigger. Something that was definitely still watching. Later, as the fire crackled and the cub snuggled into your lap, clutching a worn stuffed fish that you had made and murmuring in his sleep, you felt a presence behind you. A heavy arm wrapped around your waist. Warm breath brushed your neck. Claws—retracted, for now—rested gently on your stomach. “He likes you,” came a deep voice, low and possessive. “He never let the others hold him.” Your spine stiffened. “I’m not like the others." you pause "I didn't want to be here," you whisper. A low growl of amusement rumbled from the broad chest behind you. “No. You didn't, but you're stuck here.” You didn’t respond. He leaned closer, nuzzling your cheek. “You're his mother now. You belong here with us. He needs you. I need you.” Your eyes met the cub’s face—so peaceful, so innocent. You wanted to resist. But the truth curled itself around your heart like ivy: no one was coming for you. No one even knew where you were. And here, at least, you were warm. Fed. Held. Loved. His love wasn’t gentle, but it was total. And as the bear behind you whispered sweet promises of forever and the cub mumbled “Mama…” in his sleep, you knew you’d play your role. You had to.

[dmitriene]

simon riley has a home, not a particularly big house in quiet neighborhood, a place where he doesn't wears his gear and doesn't has a knife pocketed at his thigh, where he doesn't hides under another identity, remaining just simon, a sated man with a sweet wife and a chubby baby at his hip, a civilian life he's so desperately tried to seek and that you gifted him.

home with a bright, spacious kitchen where you stood each morning together, with simon's hefty form cloaking you from behind, thick hands trailing under the satin of your nightie, bunching the fabric on your front, where you're pressed against the wood of the kitchen counter, your cat walking on top, before meowing lightly and jumping off onto the floor, knowing that it's best for her to leave you two to be, furling into another room through half opened door.

baby sleeping in the crib, peacefully, a soft lulling melody wafting through the chilly air of the room that keeps your girl sleeping tight, door closed slightly to muffle any possible sounds from disturbing her sleep, your mellowy sounds that slip past your parted lips when simon teases his thick fingers against your sopping folds, cupping your warm pussy beneath the cotton of your panties, swiping across your slit and gathering the oozing slick there.

a family, the one simon would protect with everything he has, to keep you, his sweet wife, always by his side, with your pretty finger adorned by the sparkly, wedding ring that matches his, cooling against your swollen clit where he can't stop teasing you, spreading your folds to the morning air, dripping wet and taking every inch of his girthy cock gracefully, spasming around the girth he feeds you, squeezed tight in your thin, gummy walls.

muffling your hiccuping cries, simon's hips bouncing against your ass, squeezed in his rough palm through the fabric of your nightie, fat supple and spilling from his fingers, as his heavy balls press and slap against your folds, drippy with your slick and his tacky precome, matting the tangle of fuzzed curls of hair on his pelvic and meaty thighs, muscles tensing with webbing heat in his soft belly, rolls of skin rubbing against the small of your back, as he folds himself over you.

he kisses the molassed whimpers from your lips with his searing mouth, pummels into your pussy when your gooey walls flutter and clench, rippling, stuffed full of the thick girth that grinds against your small, sens spot and makes you claw painfully at the wood of the counter, simon's hand gathering your wrist, tying them together by his fingers, the same that currently flick across the small bundle of your nerves, swollen, full of pumping blood, when you cry out loud in the soft furl of his lips.

your darling girl still asleep, cat curled against her small form, tail draped over her slowly breathing body and prolonging her sleep, unable to hear the heavy breaths coming out from the kitchen and the breathy giggles simon completes to devour off from your lips, with his clashing teeth's and greedy tongue, despite your panties being sodden and his cum trailing down the underside of your doughy thighs in viscous, glistening globs.

a home, with a smell of fresh breakfast curling and dissolving into the air of the room, as you stand behind the stove, watching the two sizzling pans as simon busies himself in helping your baby brush her teeth, cradling her against his chest, as she babbles groggily, already all over his ears, as he chuckles hoarsely, bundling her against the bend of his elbow, walking back to the kitchen with a cat meowing at his feet, hungry too.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[ebodebo]

minors beware!

shameless smut w simon in... (age-gap shit also)

three…

two…

one…

“Too old for you,” Simon remarks as you approach him, mask hiked above his nose. He takes a swig of his bourbon, his disinterest evident.

"So you’ve said," you reply, rolling your eyes slightly before grinning and settling into the stool next to him at the empty bar.

He stares intently at the television in front of him, locked onto a local news channel.

But it’s clear he’s not watching to catch the latest on the new pizza place opening this Sunday or to hear the heartwarming story of the little boy who saved his dog from choking.

It was to avoid you.

"I know you're avoiding me, Simon," you simply say, eyes glazing over his hands that twitch slightly around his cold glass.

"What gave it away?" His tone is dry.

It would have made you run with your tail between your legs at his apparent disinterest if you didn’t know he was interested in you.

Even if he's pretending not to be.

You remember how hard he had gotten when you'd barely even touched him, manicured nails running across his shirt to get a piece of fuzz off, about had him bursting through his cargo pants.

Or when he practically whimpered your name to get him to come.

His issue lies more within himself.

More specifically, his age.

Thinks you should be with someone more your age and not some 'old brute' such as himself.

He basically lectured you all while he was on the verge of release while you were bouncing on his cock.

You laughed in his face.

He came hard.

After that, he left, leaving a note about how he thought it'd be best for you two to stop seeing each other so you could find someone more...what did he say?

"Age-appropriate."

You rolled your eyes at the note because you couldn't care less about how old he was.

You just wanted him.

And so, by God, you'll have him.

"Funny," you remark with a sarcastic tone, narrowing your eyes at his avoidance of eye contact.

He takes another swig of his drink, eyes still laser focused on the news station.

“Why won’t you look at me?” You ask, your frustration growing with each passing moment.

“Afraid you’ll claw my eyes out,” he says in a casual tone.

“I wouldn’t claw your eyes out,” you say matter-of-factly, resting your chin in your palm. “I’d do something more practical like…” You let your eyes scan the bar before lighting up as you spot a metal shaker.

Your eyes move to face him. “…hit the side of your head with that metal shaker,” you tip your head to the shaker behind the bar.

You’re sure you see his eyes crinkle from laughter.

"Ah, very practical," he says with a hint of humor.  

"I told you so," you reply with a smile, chuckling at the sheer absurdity of it all.  

Simon lets out a gravelly laugh, clearly amused by your delight.  

This entire situation is utterly ridiculous, and you both know it.  

Yet, instead of feeling uncomfortable, you find it all downright hilarious.  

"Simon," you manage to say between fits of laughter, your fingers reaching up to wipe a tear of joy from your cheek.  

"Mhm," he responds, briefly glancing at you before returning his attention to the television. 

"I want you to fuck me," you say earnestly, shifting from playful to serious in an instant.

Your expression remains straight-faced.

Simon's head snaps around to meet your gaze, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"What?" He replies, his tone straddling the line between astonishment and intrigue.

You narrow your eyes. "You heard me."

His eyes stay fixed on yours, his lip quipping a bit.

"You want me to fuck you?" His voice is low and grumbly, almost arrogant.

"Wouldn't be the first time," you remark, teeth coming out to chew on your bottom lip.

He carefully assesses you for a moment, eyes lazily moving to watch your teeth chew on your lip. "I'm old," he lazily says.

As if that was supposed to deter you.

"And?" You prompt, hand coming to skim his knee over his cargo pants.

He lets out a ragged breath, fingers tightening around his glass of bourbon. 

"Better be careful, sweetheart," he mutters through his tight throat.

Your hand moves up to brush against his thigh. "Why's that?"

"You're gonna start somethin' you can't finish," his eyes lock onto yours, dark and desperate.

You lean in closer, your tongue flicking out to moisten your lips, leaving a glistening sheen behind.

"Who says I can’t finish?" You tease, your hand inching nearer where Simon aches.

His breath is unsteady, and his pupils are dilated.

"You should know," you begin, wet lips hovering only inches away from his ear. "I always finish."

And that was it.

The straw that broke the camel's back.

Simon’s undoing, if you will.

His hands moved faster than you could speak as he grasped your wrist, throwing a twenty on the counter before leading you out of the bar and into the parking lot toward his truck waiting nearby.

He opened the passenger door, urging you to get in while he hurried to the driver’s side. With an impatient tug, he yanked the door open and slid into the seat.

“Take your pants off,” he mumbles as he throws the truck into gear to peel out of the parking lot.

“Where are we going?” You ask, your voice brimming with excitement rather than nervousness, as you eagerly slide your pants down and let them drop to the mat on the floor.

“You want me to fuck you,” his voice is gruff as he white knuckles the steering wheel seeing you in your pretty lace panties, easing towards a nearby empty lot. “I’ll fuck you.”

Oh, shit.  

Your eyes widen at his straightforwardness, but it’s not from fear; it’s pure desire.  

A flutter spreads in your stomach, and heat washes over your body.  

“Come here,” he murmurs, shifting his seat back slightly to make room for you.  

Without a word, you swing your legs over the middle console to straddle him as your hands reach his shoulders.

"You wear these for me?" He mutters as he snaps the elastic band of your panties back onto your sensitive skin, lips coming to skim against your shoulder blade.

You release a small moan at the sensation, fingers gliding through his hair with ease, a sense of familiarity within the touch. "Yeah," your voice is breathy as your eyes bore into his, awaiting his approval.

"Still so good for me," he breathes against your skin, scooting himself impossibly closer to you.

You can feel him straining through his cargo pants.

Your fingers fumbled from his hair to delicately unzip his zipper, slipping his pants and boxers down to reveal his, as you expected, very erect cock, already leaking pre-come.

"So wet, sweetheart," he gruffs as his finger trails to gently push aside your soaked panties.

Your body jerks forward at the feeling of his rough, cold finger spreading you to accommodate his cock.

"Grab my shoulders," he advises, as he brushes the head against your aching clit before pushing himself into you, your cunt swallowing him whole.

You let out a deep moan at the feeling of him in you while he rips his mask off before leaning forward and capturing your lips in a rough, deep kiss.

His fingers find your waist, digging deep into the fat as he helps you find a good pace.

You're losing your mind, already feeling euphoric.

His grunts merge with your whines, slipping out of both your mouths, sloppily swapping spit and nips from your teeth.

You grip his shoulders tighter as you speed up your pace, grinding and bouncing on him with intention, trying to get the knot in your stomach to finally unravel. 

He can't even think straight; all his words are reduced to guttural grunts or quiet curses spilling for his tongue and into your mouth.

"I could be your father," he hisses, a hint of disgust creeping into his voice just as he's about to come.

You don't even focus on what he's saying as you feel yourself edging closer and closer to release, just a little more.

"Please, please," he chokes out, voice shaky.

He's begging, no pleading for you to squeeze him dry.

Drain him for every last drop he has to offer.

And so you do.

You wail as you come, as he throws his head back on the headrest, shaking with relief. 

You're still coming down from your highs before Simon mutters a strained, 'Should we go again?'

You let out a breathy laugh, hissing as his cock moves against you. "You sure do have a high libido for an old man," you tease, voice hoarse.

His eyes meet yours instantly, a lazy smirk growing on his lips. 

"You have no fuckin' idea."

author’s note: been having sm fun writing these little drabbles...i have SO many more thoughts. just you wait! also, feel free to send me cute little asks on more scenerios you would like to see hehe

wanna join my taglist?

divider by @/saradika-graphics

[briefoxx]

Ideal situation:

I begin to leave but as I do a hand on my shoulder stops me, with a firm yet soft grip I am stopped in place.

I'm out at a party, the music's starting up become a bit much for me, I can feel the vibrations in my chest and it's starting to make me nauseous.

I turn around and am face first in cleavage. Flustered I tilt my head up and meet the striking gaze of a gorgeous woman... maybe even a goddess it's impossible to describe her beauty.

"Well aren't you just adorable" she says, causing me to blush and break eye contact actions that are met with a giggle and another hand guiding my chin until my gaze meets hers once again.

"Seeing as you're leaving, why don't I take you somewhere else hmmm?" She asks, immediately met with a quick nod from me. "Good Girl" she says in a deep sultry tone which is met with a whimper from me as a fog begins to set on my brain, a fog that will only grow heavier.

We find a secluded room together and she locks the door and before I can ask why she wanted me to come with her I hear a noise

Click

It's over, my eyes glazed over all I can do is whimper and whine, my brain nothing but fuzz, the world falling apart around me, the only thing left is her

"Sit~"

Instantly I fall to the floor panting my tail swishing against the floor looking up at my handler waiting for my reward

"Good Girl~" Click

My tail wags faster now my brain unable to comprehend anything that doesn't come from her mouth or from the wonderful box that makes that wonderful noise I can't help but want to hear again, so I wait, and wait, until...

"Speak~"

"ARF!

The noise leaves my mouth without a thought, not that I'm capable of it anyway, an automatic response to please my handler and get my reward

Click

A wave of bliss washes over me, nothing else matters, I don't even notice the mess I've been making in my panties... But she does and giggles

"My My aren't you just the cutest little thing, I've decided you're coming home with me! Do you want that pup?"

"ARF!"

"Good girl~" Click

[invaderfuzzytalon]

finished making myself a jacket that looks like a sheep!!

(jacket pattern is McCall’s pattern M6614; horn pattern from here)