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chlmtsdoll · 6 days

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IT’S NOT THAT COMPLICATED

౨ৎ Summary: you’re Art and Pat’s (mid)wife without the legal agreements. They both want to finally get you pregnant but who will be the one to shoot his shot first ? 🤭

౨ৎ 18 + | smut !, threesome, p in v (unprotected sex), heavy breeding kink, size kink, polyamorous relationship, domestic (mean-ish) reader, (mid 20’s) needy Art and Pat, angst, gayness, jealousy, religious themes here and there, inspo from Good Graces by Sabrina Carpenter 🩵

The entire house had been a complete and total mess.

You spent most of your weekdays like this — in your Skims sets, hair tied up in a neat ponytail only to end up in a messy bun by the time you were done cleaning up after the two boys who made up most of your life.

Unless they’d been at tennis practice of course.

You never could have pictured your life turning into this in your wildest dreams, especially when you’d never been the kind of girl who was into dating of any sort at all. You hated it really. The chase, the frustration, the uncertainty. Since you were a little girl, all you knew was that you wanted to accomplish receiving the home of your dreams and a cute little baby or two to keep your days a little less lonely. You never fathomed it was too much to ask for. And even though you really didn’t exclusively picture a man (or men) being apart of your future — early days at school, Art and Patrick would make it the competition of their lives to never leave you alone. Ever.

Since you all met your sophomore year of college, it was the two on their hands and knees at your feet. Both always striving for your attention, fancying you, stealing you away from your studies to try and make you settle for dating at least one of them — and to their surprise (or your luck) you never really did. So moving through your last years of class really pushed the three of you as close as a trio could get. You didn’t exactly put tittles on whatever you had been since it wasn't your style anyway and throuple just seemed so indifferent. You’d all been more than that. Art and Patrick were yours and you were theirs. You’d draw hearts around your names in all your text books. Picturing yourself rocking cradles and being with theirs forever. You’d marry your boys if you could. It was a new upcoming part of your plan — but one worth diving into.

You really did adore them with every ounce of your being.

So eventually when they went pro and started competing full time, both Art and Patrick’s families supported your decision of getting a home together. A great chunk of what you’d always wanted finally coming to fruition. Which was why you didn’t really mind staying back to do the important things around the home that was perfect in every way to you. It was a necessity when you lived with two six foot successful athletes muddying up the place without even noticing it. You would make dinner yourself on the week days and they always helped out on the weekends. You picked out and folded their sports wear every night for them just so it would make the morning even a tad bit easier. You loved it, and you loved them. And even if the home was almost always in need of a little clean up with how busy your lives had ended up, you couldn’t say you didn’t admire that it was constantly filled with the endearment you all shared together — so just a after a few months of moving in, you finally thought it was the perfect time to let Art and Patrick give you a baby.

As excited as they were when you laid it all out on the table and they’d been a hundred percent ready too, you hadn’t properly thought out how combative your husbands got when it came down to it. The first week you’d given them the green light, it was non stop arguments and fighting between the two for who would be the first impregnate you. And although you gave them a deadline, wanting to be in your second trimester by the end of the year, they still hadn’t come to a full agreement.

And you still weren’t pregnant.

It’s pushed you into having much more aggressive periods and definitely during ovulation. You wanted your baby right then. Right now. More than anything else in the world. It was why you made a promise to both Art and Patrick — so you didn’t have to deal with running through men trying to find the perfect one to give you what you wanted even, into your thirties. There’s two of them. Which means double the assurance that you should of been pregnant by now.

You’d had a hamper between your hip and the washing machine as you were unloading the laundry you set earlier when you heard the front door being unlocked.

The foyer was filled with the loud conversation and laughter the boys brought home with them to greet you. — but you’d remembered that you just mopped the entire floor plan spotless. So you dropped the hamper instantly in a hurry,

“Wait- - Wait ! Shoes. Mud room.”

As you scurried up to them, the blonde and brunette had paused in their tracks to face you. Seconds away from placing their worked equipment and tiresome shoes on the sparkling clean floors, just before they had registered it been freshly washed. Both men melt into apologies and “sorry baby’s” roughly at the same time while you finally let yourself breathe again post saving the floors from a brutal de-makeover.

When you turned your back to grace the kitchen, taking out food and utensils to start on dinner it was of course moments till your husbands made their way to merrily greet you as they always did — unwashed and grinning like they didn’t just see you that morning. Art had sure to respectfully take off his cap when he walked in, his damp blonde curls scattered everywhere. They looked heavenly with the sweat he had brought with him too, and Patrick, even sweatier, snaked around the corner of the counter to embrace you from behind without a care in the world to his abhorrent musk filling up your senses so quickly.

“Hi, baby,” the brunette smirked down at your smaller figure from behind, he bent to press a kiss to your cheek whist grabbing your dainty waist in his own brawny hands. “How’s our girl ?”

Art began to smile from the other side of the counter in front of you. The blue hue of his eyes twinkled as he looked over your relaxed figure carrying on with what you’d been doing. “How was your day, sweetness ?”

“I caught a movie.. then I came back and cleaned up around here.” You spoke so nonchalantly the boys had already been catching on to the fact that you weren’t your normal excited self who was over the roof to have them back home. It was odd.

“So, that’s why you haven’t started on dinner yet..” Patrick chuckled, still behind your shoulder as he peered down at you, and you only glanced up at him with a mainly forced but soft simper.

“Oh, I’m so glad you noticed.. because you’re finishing it.” You only tapped Patrick’s freckled nose with a smile was laced with hints of sarcasm too smoothly, and as you looked between the two, their own glad expressions started to slip away when they really noticed your demeanor was not having it. You’d been pissed.

“So.. you’re not-”

“No. Do it yourselves,” you dried your hands on a cloth and shoved it off before removing yourself from Patrick’s embrace to exit the kitchen without a care. The boys watched your movements with frozen looks.

“I mean, we all should equally feel the current of not getting what we’ve been waiting for, right?”

As you stopped yourself from walking away to face them again with a look on your face that was holding back a thousand words of real rage, with just a cover of curiosity to how they could be so oblivious to your own needs — Art observed you from over his shoulder with a furrowed brow that also tugged a frown on his expression before he spoke.

“Baby- -”

“No. We had an agreement.” Your voice raised in pitch and you tried not to pout. Stand your ground. “I want a baby. And I still don’t have a baby.. and it’s ridiculous b-because, it’s not that complicated. Theirs two of you for fucks sake!”

You were angry, and quite upset. And even though you were pmsing, that wasn’t why. It was the exact problem.

Your emotions were at an all time high, and both men could have put that together at the way your voice shook, and nose had done that flair thing it did when you were a the peak of crying. Just on the verge of tears. But they had to know how you felt. And the way Art and Patrick observed you now, had affirmed they were taking in how it must all feel on your end.

“I thought we were in this together- guys. I-I thought we were ready to start a family…” your eyes switched between the two and their dejected faces before they both erupted into words to reassurance and decline to your state. Making their way over fast to where you stood, to be in the presence of their much shorter but adorned wife.

“We are!” The brunette huffed out.

“We’re a team.. that’ll never change, angel.“ the blonde one spoke over the other, and you crossed your arms as you looked up at both your tall and handsomely gorgeous (but very stupid at times) boys.

“Then fix this.. Get it together among yourselves like grown men who actually want a baby. Because bickering about who’s gonna get me pregnant first won’t get us anywhere.”

You breathed out deeply and searched their obedient assertion before Art and Patrick both nodded to each other in guilt of their actions. They knew how much you wanted this. And you confirmed you didn’t necessarily have to stop at just one.. you’d wanted a little bunch really — so both your boys would have created something with you.

Their strife for who got their the quickest though, had been totally picked up from ego.

“We’ll.. come to it settled by tomorrow. But really, cut the chase baby, Patrick is just in it for all the sex with you… so your answers right there.” Art commented as he only half joked at Patrick’s wit to selfishly get you laid back to back.

The brunette retreated with shoving the other man in his side. “Fuck. Off. If I was in it for the breeding kink alone I’d say that… probably- -” Patrick defended in all seriousness to his nonsensical answer, and they had both scoffed at each other — you rolled you eyes.

This had been the root of your tiredness.

Sometimes you didn’t even know why you agreed to this. They could be such idiots. Lovable ones although. Enough that you’d let them be the fathers of your children evidently.

“Just… hurry up. Or I promise, I won’t let either of you touch me.” It was between you and god how true that statement actually was. But your eyes met their green to blue in all seriousness before you turned away again. “And wash yourselves before coming in my kitchen next time.”

It took every fiber of your being not to turn back and gently leave them with kisses after such a talk — but you had to show them you meant it. that you really weren’t fucking around this time. You’d definitely classify yourself as a much attentive wife. Always too nice to both of them, but they’d known how fast you could switch up like that — being as sweet as an angel one moment then not giving a fuck the next.

And it’s what they deserve for not attending to your needs too. Although you’d all still been fairly young and they were used to just being careless boys, constantly fucking things up time to time. But now that you’d all spoken out on being ready to settle down, they had to show you they truly meant it. That they wanted this just as badly as you did.

So if locking yourself in your room without your husbands, dickless and babyless would do the trick, then so be it.

It was bound to pay off, because around two weeks later when you let the boys know you were ovulating. They wasted no time to be on you every second of every day.

Fucking was all you’d known this time around, day and night Art and Patrick would take turns filling you with as much of their seed as possible. Giving you the most otherworldly orgasms you’d probably ever experienced got you letting them fuck you in as many ways as they could fit in between the hours they didn’t have tennis and could just be with you. There was something about you wanting them so badly to plant their own inside you, and something about them taking their greedy turns over you till the light of dawn made your sex drive triple it’s increase. The boys would end up arriving late to practice after making your body the judge of who’d be the one to carry your first born.

It all came down to when Art had no rein to miss a requirement when his sponsors asked him to be of attendance to a leading event. — which also lead to you and Patrick staying the night indoors, alone, without your other counterpart.

“Please ?”

“We shouldn’t, Patrick. He’ll be upset that he wasn’t here, you know how Art gets.”

Patrick scoffed off your words as he fast walked (chased) after you into the bedroom, “pssh. He has a sponsorship. He’ll be fine… c’mon baby, how am I supposed to make you a mommy if you don’t let me try?” Patrick grinned as he sauntered closer to where you stood. That grin on his face that said he’d already been painfully hard, you knew like the back of your hand. When Patrick towered over you untamed and pressed a deep kiss to your jaw line, you met him where he took your hips with his selfish hands — just below him you let your half husband leave kisses down your neck with that damn luring smirk on his face, still.

You shook your head and rolled your eyes playfully at his acts to get you to let him fuck you without Art around like usual. You already knew the petty excuse you’d use to tell him you didn’t go against the agreement you all kept to only have intercourse when it was the three of you while trying to conceive since you’d all be equal parents to the child.

Although, it was without a doubt that Patrick l had a way with his undeniable charming nature, and it almost always paved the path to you just giving into the calculated man at some point.

He was pulling you on to his lap by the time you two reached the bed. His slightly calloused hands exploring, kneading your skin. Your breath hitched and Patrick let out a slow devious laugh as his grip on you wondered till it embraced your breasts and the man groped you with all pleasure. “These are gonna be so full when you get pregnant, baby. I can’t wait.” He had that cheeky grin as your eyes panned down at him from your position in his lap. You only let out a soft chuckle as you we’re totally more focused on when he’d get his pants off.

“I swear to god Patrick, I’m not fucking around. You better put a baby in me or I’ll have Art do it.” Your voice was pungent but remained sweet overall. The brunette snickered as he kissed on your chest anyways,

“Just relax baby doll, let me take care of it. Trust me you’ll be pushing a stroller before you even finish.” Patrick groaned into your skin. He continued pushing up your shirt and going straight to your nipples to place his lips with a soft curse while you put your hands in his hair just to watch the way he acted as if he’d been at starvation from you.

Deep down you knew for a fact Patrick had only been motivated to the whole baby making process for the kink of it all. The messy and wild sex constantly. Getting to cum in your pussy rein free as many times as he pleaded without a break, getting to say you’d been carrying his child he planted inside of you. He was a thousand percent deep into a breeding kink since you’d all been in college. And no matter how much he tried to deny it these days, it didn’t even amount to the way he’d boast about loving to just see the sight of you pregnant and fully round struggling to do simple daily tasks as your bump grew and grew every day, meanwhile it being all caused by him. The fantasy stroked his ego in a way like no other, he’d for sure end up being the type to tell friends the exact position it was that he knocked you up in. It was more of a contest of manly hood for the tennis player and you surely knew that.

On the other hand, Art had been dreaming of starting a family since a kid he’d been proudest to say. He was in it not just for himself in a way that made him overwhelming happy to have a little one of his own to take care of, but for you. Making sweet love to you day and night, trying to make a mini version of himself and you just because he adores your personality and features so much he’d want that in his own offspring. Art idolized the bond you two have that much. Always the one out of your husband’s to be doing as much research as he could in his free time to see what were the best chances of giving you a baby and making the experience the most pleasurable. The ways in which would be healthiest for you to give birth, baby names, and when you previously found his YouTube search history that had been filled with how to properly build a cradle, or how to swaddle a new born — it made your heart all warm and mushy feeling. Jumping around underneath your chest even.

It was the cherry on the top of your ideal life. And you knew the right way to go deep down.

But as Patrick lowered your hips against his, skin on skin and heated kisses in the middle of your make-out session being the only thought to cloud your mind — you’d been blinded by the one sided-ness of the man and the opportunity to end all anticipation of getting pregnant as soon as possible.

“Yeah, yeah- - just like that..” you panted as the brunette watched you while he was quick to lift himself and you to pull down his sweats and align himself with your entrance. Your hands had been wound to his shoulders while he reached for your ass in preparation of you taking his sized up cock like you owned it. And he lived for that. Patrick was dripping of pre-cum beneath you already. “Put it in.” You breathed out whist beginning to slide down his member as he pushed up into you. A low groan coming from the tease of a man, and the back of his head lost balance in your hands as you began to move on top of him.

“Take my cock baby… fuck, you feel good.” His low grunts and hands getting you to rock your hips faster was enough to get your skin feeling as if it been lit on fire. Your jaw agape enough to when Patrick put his lips on yours — you’d been met by his tongue on instant, sloppily kisses were laid in between your combatting lips. Patrick pulled a clean moan out of you as your legs begin to tremble at his penetration being rough to your walls on instant.

“Mmm- Pat… oh,” you’d been riding him on the edge of the king sized bed. Bouncing like there was no tomorrow in such little time. Your drive has just been insane, you could fuck like you took meals. The feeling of the finely built man running against the cave of your sensitive cunt assured you, this was it. You were getting pregnant by the end of tonight. If it weren’t for the astonishing thick walls, your moans could of filled every hallway of the house by now.

That was until the creek of the masters door had been a distracting note. And the blonde that appeared in it even more so.

When your movements froze and Patrick’s kisses to your neck loosened, the two of you were startled to see the sight of Art coming through that very doorway with a perplexed but not at all surprised look of predictability on his face.

Instead of pulling Patrick out of you to greet your other lover, the smile on your face only grew as you stared over at the less disheveled man placing his back pack on the floor.

“Hi, baby.” You would of been questionably chipper to most, but for the three of you this was as normal as it gets.

“Oh, don’t let me stop you.” Art shrugged softly as his crystal blues examined the heat you and Patrick had created in the atmosphere. “But.. do you really- want a brunette ? Wouldn’t you prefer the baby be.. I don’t know. A blonde ?”

“Oh, fuck off, Art.” Patrick, who had still been inside you let himself fall back into the bedsheets with a groan of misery. And you already knew the blonde had a grin of his own growing across his lips. You closed your eyes with a deep exhale.

“Guys.. stop it.” you huffed as you pushed on the brunettes limp shoulder, with a soft eye roll that landed back on Art, your expression softened at the sight of your golden boy prancing closer to the two of you. Your smile appeared again. “Come join us baby.”

You knew Patrick would be annoyed and bitching over the fact he didn’t get to cum inside you himself before Art had shown up. But it didn’t matter so much to you when overall, you wanted Art to be as much involved as his own, even if Patrick had been the one to shoot his shot first. You slid off of him to crawl closer and plant your lips on Art’s with a pleasant little noise of joy, which the blonde then sent his hands to hold your waist as he leaned into your affectionate greeting.

“Hi.” He chuckled as he leaned away to meet your eyes. Like he wanted nothing. Needed nothing but you.

“How did it go ?”

“Good- - it went good. Boring, really. But what I’m more interested in is how many times you two fucked today..” Art raised a subtle brow as he glanced between you and the sexually frustrated man who’d had his back turned to you and Arts embrace at the moment.

If only hiding behind your flustered face was an option.

“Y’know.. you’re more than welcome to tune into the fifth round, Art.” Patrick spoke out to poke the other man again and before he could glance at you, his eyes widen with a plea of ‘really ? Five ?’ laced through it and you immediately shook your head.

“No, no..” you held Art’s face in your hands, high cheek bones made it easy to acknowledge his pre-frown. Before he could assume more, your eyes search his while you kicked Patrick’s shoulders slightly. “He’s being a dick. That’s not true…”

“Let him believe it, doll. Now, can we get back to it please ? We have a baby to make.” Patrick’s tone was smug and filled with the tension to just get to your wet enclosure, and before you could even shut him up again, Art did it for you.

“Well, for that to happen, you do know she has to be on her back right ? Or at least comfortable in some capacity..” Art questioned the man and Patrick scoffed at his remark.

“I knew that.”

“Did you ? You had her on top, I would of at least expected doggy style from you, man.”

“Why does it fucking matter?!”

“Because she’s fertile right now!”

“Art, when the fuck did you become a baby daddy ? Please, explain. Because I could like to know-”

“My god. Will you two just shut up and put a baby in me!”

You’d gotten so fed up with the two bickering over nonsense, you stood to your knees between them on the bed as your frustration was shown through your expression that was slowly but surely going dull.

“Honestly, with all this tension, and arguments.. when even was the last time you fucked ?”

Your eyes switch between the two boys who choked on their own tongues when you brought up them being the ones in absence of fucking out their frustrations with one another. And you tried to hide your smirk as best as you could behind your doting eyes.

You wanted them to feel like they’d been draining you by the second, like you’d leave and shut them out again if they didn’t just handle you like real men.

“You know what, that’s it.” Art stood up from your side and glanced down at both you and Patrick who’d been taken by surprise to his new found demeanor.

“You wanna be a mommy ? I’ll make you a mommy.”

Art tugged on the bottom of his white tee, to remove it from his body swiftly — revealing his burly pecks and excellent abs that round a grin from you as easy as could be. He grabbed your wrists firm but with rooted gentleness as he took you aside. “Patrick. Make use of yourself and lay back so you can hold her reversed cowgirl.” Those last few words were more than enough to get the brunette on board as he himself stripped to then make his way neat against the pillows and covers. Art built brief lustful eye contact with you, leading you to straddle Patrick’s lap. The blonde couldn’t stop himself from grinning, and you pulled your lip into your mouth as your patience began to burn quick and your need for both of the men started to rise with it.

Patrick’s hands were on your sides as he pulled you into him, leaning in close to your ear where you felt his soft lips meet your lobe, “I can’t wait to have you full of both of us, princess.” His voice rasped at the perfect tone that had your spine increase with chills. Your delicate hands help you adjust we’re your ass met his thighs. And that’s when Art came hovering over the two of you — meeting you face to face with even more want than ever. Your lips press into one another divinely as you could of sucked his bottom lip into your own if he stayed there long enough. You smile into the smooches anyways. Your light, your angel boy, gracious as ever, depressed his palm into the firm mattress beneath where you and Pat coexist, as he made himself comfortable on top. You kept kissing Art with deep hungry moans humming from your windpipe. A slow but fervent pace. It’s like the man could sense your wetness before he even reached down between your thighs to part your legs. But when he did, with tenderness and urgency, he made them just wide enough for how he and Patrick would need you to be for them.

The blonde’s slender fingers rub around your core and he wet his digits with your slick before dipping them in your cunt leisurely, “Patrick did prep you good, but let me.. us, take care of things for once, alright ? You just focus on feeling good.” Art ducked his head to watch the way he added another finger to disappear inside you and your whine was soft. But your focus was on him. He looked overwhelming gorgeous on top of you — golden curly locks followed his every move. You felt more assured then ever by the way his sweet words made your tense muscles shift. Soon, Patrick to your left, left soft kisses on your shoulder blade which that just made you melt.

He stroked his erection before inching to slide himself back inside your soaked heat, and you closed your eyes with a sweet whimper leaving your plump lips at the way the brunette slid though your walls again — Art’s tongue darted out to watch the way you sunk down on Patrick before his eyes. Getting ready to penetrate you himself, “keep holding her, Patrick. Make sure she’s relaxed.” The man on top of you murmured with dilated pupils and mouth practically salivating just witnessing it second hand.

You bit down on your lip while Art put his cock above where Patrick had been, working himself against your already pulsing cunt, begging to be used by the two gorgeous boys. And before finally pushing into you along with the brunette, Art pushed you farther on to your back against Patrick’s broad chest.

“Stay open for us like a good girl, we’re gonna make you a mommy for sure this time.” You heard Patrick’s voice come in with a grin and he held your thighs separate as Art bottomed out inside of you the same way Patrick had with a echoed grunt.

The double penetration sent your mouth going agape straight away, your face scrunched up in pleasure and pain at the same time,

“oh- - oh, fuck” your breathing hitched as then men just filled you with their length and girth, the farther they burrowed in you, the quicker you realized you’d probably never get used to the stretch of taking both of their dicks at once, nor would you tire of it either. But this was what you needed. Right this second, to be breed and stuffed with enough cum you’d have more than sufficient chances to have one of their babies make it to growing inside of you.

The blonde and brunette had started to move in you, at a steady pace, then quicker as time followed. You sometimes felt as if you’d body was meant to take them like this — your moans and cries escalating could of confirmed that with how you’d been coating their cocks with more of your juices as they fucked into you. Both men making pornographic noises of their own while getting to submerge into your sweetness at the same time. The friction of feeling one another setting off another kind of euphoria that had been truly in a league of its own.

From Patrick pushing his heels into the comforter to pound up into you, and Art’s hands going opaque with veins as he gripped on to the side of your hips to ass — to keep you open for him to have the best access to your womb, made your eyes go teary with the impact of it all. The way their balls carelessly slapped against your ass that would surely be darkened with a bruise tomorrow. Thrusting without mercy made you feel a heavenly kind of dizzy at this point.

Art couldn’t help but grin at the bulge he and Patrick had been imprinting on your lower belly as you could only shriek and moan on their cocks in repetition like you’d been saying a prayer after every pound to your sensitive cunt.

“Fuck- - god, princess. You’re gonna make us daddies aren’t you ? That tummy is gonna be full with us just like it is now, and you’ll love it. I don’t think you’ll ever stop wanting to let us fill you with babies you can take care of.” Art had panted out into your ear with a airy chuckle and you were too fucked out to do anything but tremble more from his words, the brunette has been smirking in agreement.

“Shit. She’s gonna be so pretty lookin’, Art. Being at home with the kids, nurturing everything she touches like the sweet girl she is… just to get breed nice and round again and again, isn’t that right, pretty girl?”

You were over the edge. Completely cock drunk and fucked stupid by your boys who held you together in the mess they made of you. That’s when you couldn’t keep it back anymore. “Oh- yes… god, yes. Fuck !” A high pitched whimpering moan ripped through you as you came hard, leaving Art and Patrick’s overly slick cocks with yours and their creamy details.

“Oh, shit, shit !” The brunette cursed from over your shoulder.

“Fuck, Patrick, you ready ?” Art huffed as he and your other husband didn’t stop plunging into you. They took your overstimulated and overstuffed hole clenching them through your orgasm as the gateway to finally leave their seed to your body’s pride.

Taking their slowed thrusts back up a notch, the boys fuck into you till you cry and they both cum with a slew of groans and other curses like that. Your muscles couldn’t hold up. You let yourself collapse against Patrick’s skin as the two pumped ropes into your pussy till they’d been drained out.

Art snapped his eyes shut as he strained into you with a deep grunt. He palmed Patrick’s shoulder “don’t pull out- - don’t move.. stay in. For as long as you can.” Patrick kept his hips flush against you and your legs trembled as your chest heaved and your cunt began to feel numb. You brought your swollen lip between your teeth.

“Mmmh... Art- - I don’t know how much longer I can hold up..” your wide tearful eyes met the blonde’s gaze as he leaned even closer to take your hand in his, intertwining your fingers right then.

“I know, baby, I know.. but we have to make sure you have all the chances of getting pregnant.” The blonde kissed your knuckles as he stayed their with you — and Patrick did the same. Staying put and not letting up till they had been as sure as could be that you were having a child.

It brought a simper to your lips as your chest eased into a relaxed sigh. The two men finally pull out of you with low moans and you immediately sprawl on your back to smile to yourself on the bedsheets.

You’d been pregnant. You just knew it. You felt it. When Art and Patrick came together to create something out of their love with, and for you — you knew your prominent instinct couldn’t of let you down now. And only a single pregnancy test later, and a trip the three of you all took to your doctor. It had been confirmed. You were pregnant.

And to your pleasant surprise and overly joyous nature... Your first born would turn out to be a Donaldson.

#art donaldson #artrick smut #patrick zweig #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x reader #artrick x reader #artrick #patrick zweig smut #patrick zweig x reader #challengers #challengers fic #challengers x reader #challengers smut #x reader #petite!reader #breeding k1nk #short n sweet #sabrina carpenter

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ellethespaceunicorn · 2 months

Text

Nothing More Than An Animal

Title: Nothing More Than An Animal

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Henry!Wolverine (Cavillrine) x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2.6K

Summary: After entering a dangerous biker bar alone, you’re almost assaulted. You are saved by a mutant with metal claws who might be more animal than man.

Warnings: alcohol use, swearing, unwanted attention, bar fight, Wolvie being Wolvie, unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids, claw kink

Beta: @peyton-warren

A/N: The title is taken from this quote from Savage Wolverine #13: “Most people think I'm nothing more than an animal!” Thank you to my amazing beta, Peyton, for giving me this idea in the first place.

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

You couldn’t help yourself. You stand across the street from the biker bar, a flickering streetlamp above you casting an off-white haze. The only thing keeping you from entering the establishment is your sense of self-preservation. This place, Torque Tavern, screams danger. But that only draws you in further.

You’re dressed in your usual style: your favorite Joan Jett shirt with the sleeves cut off, a denim jacket, a pair of figure-hugging black jeans, and a pair of Doc Martens boots. While normally you walk around with a sense of power, tonight was different.

A chill in the air makes you wrap your arms around yourself. You step off the curb into a dirty puddle, crossing the street after looking both ways. With your hand on the bar door, you pull it open and step inside.

The smell of stale beer and tobacco smoke hits your nostrils as the door closes behind you. A dozen heads turn to you, and your heart pounds. You look across the dimly lit room and notice one person who hasn’t paid you any attention, sitting on a stool at the L-shaped bar. You walk up and sit on a stool, a couple of seats away from the large man.

While you wait for the bartender to attend to you, you peek at the behemoth that sits near you. Wild, dark hair that comes to a point on each side, bushy sideburns, and a non-connecting beard outline his face. A white tank top stretches across his wide, thick frame. Bulbous, sweaty biceps glisten in the glow of the lights behind the bar. Hairy, veiny forearms lead down to strong hands: one grips around a lowball of amber liquid so tight that his knuckles are white, and the other balances a fat cigar between two fingers.

“Take a picture, bub, it’ll last longer,” the stranger says, letting out a plume of smoke from his chapped lips before turning his tidepool blue eyes on you.

After a few seconds that feel like minutes, you’re finally able to turn around and look away, mumbling an apology. You can still feel his eyes on you for a bit before he turns back to his drink and his solitude.

Your eyes shoot up once the bartender knocks on the bartop in front of you. “What’ll you have?”

“Uh, yeah. Moosehead and a shot of J.P. Wiser’s,” you reply, unsurprised when the bartender raises a brow at you. He then shrugs, cracks open a bottle of lager, and sets it in front of you. Grabbing a shot glass, he pours you a bit of the blended whiskey.

As soon as the light golden liquor is pushed toward you, you lift it and inhale the vanilla aroma. Tossing it back, the taste of licorice and cinnamon cascades over your tongue and down your throat. You exhale the burn and turn your attention to your lager.

You notice the murmurs behind you. A chair is pushed away from a table, and heavy boots are walking up behind you. A strong hand lands on your shoulder, and you freeze. “Hey, doll. Can I buy you a drink?”

You hold up your beer and decline, “I’m fine, honey.”

“Aw, come on. Just one drink. Promise I don’t bite, ‘less you want me to,” the source of the voice laughs, coming around to lean on the bar between you and the cigar-smoking stranger, his bald head glistening in the low light as he strokes his long, scraggly beard. His beer belly is barely contained in a Limp Bizkit shirt. This man is a walking red flag, and you roll your eyes and shake your head.

“Look, pal. Let me enjoy the drink I have, ok? This is my one fucking night off this week, and I’m not in the mood to let you ruin it with any of your shitty pick-up lines or the promise of hanging out with you and the rest of the rejects from Sons of Anarchy, got it?” You surprised yourself by bellowing these words to a stranger, one who could probably benchpress you with ease.

You flinch as his expression turns dark and he raises a hand. “You stuck-up little bitch, I ought to—”

The cigar-smoking stranger interrupts, seizing him by the throat and lifting him effortlessly off the ground as if he were a mere feather. While holding him aloft with one hand, the other hand balls into a fist while sharp blades appear from his knuckles.

He’s a mutant! You’d never seen anyone use their abilities up close, but now a man with incredible strength and metal claws is gallantly defending your honor.

“I think the lady has everything she needs, so why don’t you and your little friends scurry along before I get really angry and carve you up in front of everyone, eh?”

The sound of a pump-action shotgun being cocked has every head whipping to the bartender. “Get out of my bar, freak!”

The mutant simply turns and deposits the asshole on the ground in a crumpled mess. Blowing another puff of smoke into the ceiling, he throws back the rest of his drink before grabbing a bottle of whiskey from behind the bar and walking out. Halfway to the door, he turns to you and asks, “You coming or what, bub?”

You couldn’t scramble off your stool quick enough after he challenged you to follow him. Stepping over the man left on the floor, you scurry after your mutant savior. Once back in the night air, you look over as he stuffs the bottle into the storage of his Harley-Davidson. As he swings his leg over the bike and settles into the seat, you can't help but notice the bike sagging under his weight, as if he weighs a ton.

He turns back to his storage, taking out a helmet and holding it out to you. You’ve seen enough movies to know that riding with a stranger is a dumb idea. However, if that mysterious stranger happens to be attractive and cruising on a Harley, who could resist the allure of a thrilling adventure?

Taking the helmet, you pull it down over your head and lift a leg to get onto the bike behind him. As he turns the key, you clench your thighs at the vibration and wrap your arms around his waist.

“You don’t have to hold me so tight,” he informs.

“Oh, this isn’t tight," you remark, suddenly realizing that you don't know what to call this man. You offer your name, and he repeats it before giving his own.

“The name’s Logan.” He drops his cigar butt on the asphalt and stubs it out with his boot before putting up the kickstand and backing out of the parking spot. He revs the engine, and you are off on your way to wherever Logan wants to take you.

The drive is smooth, the city whizzing past you as Logan speeds down the highway. You end up at a garage that houses a few more Harleys in various states of repair. Logan puts the kickstand down and lets you get off the bike first. He watches as you take off the helmet and look around at where he’s taken you.

Exiting the bike, he takes the helmet when you hold it out to him. You don’t miss the way his fingers lingered on yours for a beat. He takes the bottle out of his bike pack and takes a hefty swig, then hands it to you.

You read the label, ‘Forty Creek Confederation Oak’, and put the bottle to your lips. Tipping it, you are delighted to taste the honey flavor. Handing him the bottle, you hold the liquor in your mouth until it starts to burn, and then you swallow and exhale the nutty finish.

He appears to be quite taken aback that you managed to drink without gagging, and his intrigue deepens as you begin to move closer into his personal space. The warmth in your chest from the alcohol has you feeling full and content. The heat coming off of his body as you stand close enough to breathe in his air has you feeling something completely overwhelming: pheromone-induced arousal.

Your libido is making itself known as you watch him watch you. Unable to stop your hands, they find themselves smoothing up his tank-covered torso until you tug at the collar. He gets the hint and sets the bottle down before removing his shirt.

You encounter a soft, furry chest that invites you to sink your fingers into its warmth. Tightening your digits in the hair on his pretty pecs, you revel in the growl he makes. He then levels the playing field, grabbing you by the nape of the neck with one large paw and bringing your face to his.

As you part your lips, a soft whimper slips out, unable to be contained, while he teasingly brushes his tongue against your lower lip. Growling again, he dips further to slot your mouth with his. He devours the moans that come out of you as he grabs a handful of your ass, chuckling into the kiss as you let him take the lead. His tongue licks into your mouth, and you feel drunk on his whiskey-laden kiss.

Breaking the kiss, he pushes down on your shoulders until you are kneeling at his feet. You start to unfasten his tight-fitting jeans, but he swats your hands away.

“Not yet, bub,” he warns. “I wanna try something.”

With that, he has you pass him the bottle. He takes a drink and then holds your cheek against his denim-covered cock. You can sense that he’s packing quite a surprise down there, and you’re eagerly anticipating the moment it’s unleashed.

“Eyes on me,” he commands.

You watch as he takes the bottle and pours about a shot’s worth of liquor over his chest. Watching as the liquid washes over him, you are more than eager to taste it directly from his skin. After you’ve cleaned his chest of all traces, he takes another drink. This time, he holds your face by the jaw and leans down, spitting the whiskey directly into your mouth.

You gulp it down eagerly, on the verge of pleading for another sip, when he scoops you up from the ground and twirls you around, positioning you over the bike you arrived on. He yanks down your jeans, your panties going with them. He lands a slap on each cheek before you hear him unzip his pants and feel his heavy dick teasing your clit.

He kicks your legs open further, pulls your denim jacket off, and lines himself up with your soaked entrance. Sliding in, he hisses at the heat of your tightness. You whine at his girth, stretching you more than any other cock you’ve ever taken. Once he bottoms out, the tip kisses your cervix, and his hairy ball sac rests against your puffy pussy. He pauses to let you get used to his size, but as he continues to take his time, it seems he is just tormenting you.

“Logan, please. Need you to move,” you plead, wiggling your hips to get any kind of friction.

You don’t see the toothy grin that covers his face, but you know by the way he tightens his grip on your hips that he is about to fuck you ten ways from Sunday.

Gradually withdrawing his hips, he eases out until only the tip of his shaft stays nestled within you, and then he thrusts back in with force. Doing it again, and then again, he pauses after each thrust to tease you. But on the third plunge, he doesn’t stop; he just keeps driving into you.

The rhythmic sounds of your sweat-soaked skin colliding form a captivating tune, harmonizing with the slick, squelching rhythm of his thrusts deep inside you. Coupled with Logan's deep, primal growls and your breathy moans, it creates an intoxicating symphony of desire.

You sense one of his hands sliding away from your hip, pushing your top up your back, and then a sharp SNIKT! pierces the air. You almost turn to inquire where the sound came from, but you soon feel something razor-sharp and hot to the touch sliding down your back. Once you realize that he’s touching you with his claws, you’re overcome with arousal, and your walls flutter around him. He fucks you through your orgasm and retracts his claws.

He slows his hips, pulling out and moving you both over to a nearby armchair. Sitting down first, he crooks a finger at you, and you remove your jeans and boots before straddling his hips. As you lower yourself onto him, you feel him fill you once more, the sensation overwhelming as you settle in.

You close your eyes and begin to ride him slower than before. Before you know it, you feel hot steel, or what you assume to be steel, at your neck and open your eyes to see his fist a few inches from your face. The claws, held within a millimeter of your jugular, glide across your skin.

“Hey, bub? You gonna keep pussyfooting around, or are you gonna ride this cock like the good little slut I know you are?” He asks, his pupils dilated until there is barely any blue left.

Your mouth opens and closes, but there is no sound coming out besides whimpers of fear that he might push those claws through your neck. Honestly, it added an extra little something to the experience, feeling that he might cut you at any moment.

The claws disappear back into the skin between his knuckles, and instead, he wraps a hand around your neck, guiding you to ride his length exactly as he wants. Your hands hold his thick wrist as you impale yourself over and over again.

“That’s it. Ride my cock just like that,” he praises, sticking two fingers in your mouth that you gluttonously suck. He locks his gaze on yours while you reach another peak of pleasure, your inner walls tightening around him as you release a wave of warmth that cascades down his length and between his legs.

When you threaten to slow down, he fucks into you, chasing his release. At this point, you are drooling over his fingers and looking like the fucked-out little doll that you are. You can tell that he is close as his hips stutter and his brows furrow as he removes his fingers from your mouth.

“Come inside me, Logan. Want it, need it so bad,” you beg, moving your hips as he drives into you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. He lets out a throaty growl and buries himself to the hilt inside of you. Feeling him twitch inside you, rope after rope of his cum painting your cervix, you reach back and play with his balls.

It’s minutes before his cock softens enough to slip out of you, and you rest your head on his chest as his jizz drips from your thoroughly used hole. To your astonishment, his hand rises to gently stroke your back while you find yourself gripping his chest hair.

Little did you know, this was only round one with the big lug. He’ll let you get some shut-eye for now, but later? He’d like to fuck you on every available surface in his garage. And what he wants, he always gets.

A/N: I intentionally used a line from the X-Men (2000), but then failed at “Chekov’s Gun” sort of. But this story only has two acts. So, fuck Chekov. I hope you all enjoyed my little fuckfest here, and please do let me know what you thought!! Writers are fed by comments!

**Tag List**

@littlefreya @mrs-solo-walker @viking-raider

Let me know if you want to be added (or removed). 😁

#henry cavill #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry!wolverine #henry!wolvie #cavillrine #cavillrine fanfiction #cavillrine smut #cavillrine fanfic #cavillrine x reader #cavillrine x female reader #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #deadpool movie #deadpool 3 #deadpool and wolverine #henry cavill smut #nothing more than an animal

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aothotties · 1 month

Text

Some more Farmer!Reiner for everyone

Warnings: MDNl, Cunnilingus (f. receiving), fingering, a lil fluff at the end.

◝꒰ ´ ˘ `♡ ꒱

Farmer!Reiner becomes your new best friend within the first few weeks of your stay.

Farmer!Reiner who learns that you're opening up a small bakery in town and would love to be business partners.

Farmer!Reiner brings you your order with a few extra cartons of eggs or gallons of milk just because he can.

Farmer!Reiner does these things out of the kindness of his big heart, and in hopes that you'll let him take you on a date.

Farmer!Reiner is shocked when it's you who asks him out before he even gets the chance to.

Farmer!Reiner promises to be on his best behavior for your date tonight so that he won't scare you off.

Farmer!Reiner is about to lose an internal battle with himself when he sees how divine you look.

You invite him over to a home-cooked meal and on the off chance the night takes a turn, it's better to be a few feet away from the bed.

Reiner knocks on the door with flowers in his hand and you take a nice long look at him. His blonde hair is washed and styled handsomely, large muscles are bulging under his shirt, Christ, and the way his thighs are screaming under those jeans.

Reiner is no better if not worse than you are. His eyes steadily trail down your curvy figure, if the word perfect had a picture in the dictionary, he's sure the hat they would use one of your pictures to capture the meaning. All he can do is fantasize about what you're hiding under that long skirt, the way your dark skin shimmers due to your body butter entices him.

Farmer!Reiner manages to act civilized while you two have dinner and dessert.

Farmer!Reiner falls in love with you by the second every time he eats more forkfuls of your delightful chocolate cake.

Farmer!Reiner doesn’t let you move a muscle after dinner and insists on doing y’all’s dishes himself.

Farmer!Reiner holds back a moan when you jump up onto the counter next to him and rub his shoulder, mumbling a sweet “thank you”

Farmer!Reiner gets distracted by you telling a story and sprays you both with the faucet.

Farmer!Reiner is standing between your legs while wrapped up in a large blanket since you don't have any clothes his size.

Farmer!Reiner can't help but draw small circles on your thighs while you tell him your entire life story.

Reiner can’t help himself from leaning in just a tad bit too close to attach your lips, but it’s okay because you wanted this just as bad if not more.

Your wraps wrap around the blanket covering his shoulders and he pulls you in as close as he can. You both sigh in contentment as the tension slowly leaves the room with each kiss.

The blanket falls to the floor as he pushes you down so your back is flat against the countertop. You barely have time to react to how quickly your panties are removed and his lips are wrapped around your clit.

“Reiner!” You exclaim, you grip his soft blond locks between your fingers as his tongue switches between your nub and dripping hole.

His poor cock twitches at the sound of his name falling from your lips, his pants growing tighter by the minute. He tests the waters but inserts a finger in your cunt.

You hum at the sensation of his thick finger massaging your walls while his skilled tongue lapped at your clit like a madman.

He adds another finger next to the first one and your back arches off the counter, the scene in front of you has you insanely close.

You make eye contact with Reiner as he gives your bulging clit all the attention she craves. He curves his fingers to rub against your g-spot and you let out a long moan.

“I-I’m coming! Fuck Reiner I’m coming.” You warn, your body twitching in pleasure as you release onto his tongue and fingers.

He drinks up every last drop and pulls away from you to give your poor pussy a break. He stands up fully and wipes his mouth with his thumb.

“Are you okay, I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.” He helps you to your feet, grabs the fallen blanket, and covers your bare half.

“Reiner you’re fine, trust me I enjoyed myself. You’ve got nothing to worry about, are you okay?” You ask, nodding down to the bulge in his pants.

“Don’t worry about me, I want our first time to be special. Or at least not in your kitchen maybe?” He suggests and you let out a chuckle.

“Yeah, that might be a good idea for next time.” He places a kiss on your forehead and takes you to the couch.

A movie plays in the background as you two doze off at some point in the night. His clothes are long forgotten in the dryer, but this will be a night to remember

#aot x black reader #aot scenarios #aot smut #aot x reader #aot imagines #aot x female reader #reiner x black reader #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun smut #reiner x reader #reiner smut #farmer!reiner #i love them #I can't wait to write more about them

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unknownanomoly · 5 months

Text

I have decided to continue the trend!~ but cats instead! I personally think the cats came out better but that's only because I have drawn cats my entire life and I never drew lambs before joining the cult of the lamb fandom. Also I wanna say a few things. I'm sorry for anyone's lambs I misgendered in the last post, also for aveloka this took me about 2 hours, one hour rough draft sketch another hour for full sketch/outline. And I think that's it for now... anyways, cats!

@oneofthosenightbees I love Narinder's cloak so much! very creative! and also thank you for the picture of my lamb! I squealed so loud i thought I woke my family @bamsara the face was hard but I loved drawing them so much, again cloak was really fun, the cloak on like all of these Nari's were really fun to draw tbh @cotl-flower-crown I love the fluffy cloak thing, and just how angry they look! @melled42 your lamb sadly didn't get into my last post since I started following you after I made that, but I drew your Nari! I love them very much and having them as a hairless cat is very creative! I love the idea!

@ballad-of-the-lamb I love how annoyed your Nari looks! and also their outfit was really fun! Also sorry about the lamb thing, idk which lamb to chose so i choose the first one i saw! but still, I love your Nari very much! @xmajordumps I drew them from when shamura was threatening them, I hope I did it well since you know, they were kinda covered in blood and all! but really fun shaped and all! they look so angry! (why are all the narinders so angy?) @slate021 I love drawing fluffy cats so much! I love drawing fluff in general and your Nari satisfied the fluff meter. @faery-the-diamond Yours is so simple and yet somehow so complicated, I love your AU and how the lamb is a crown and Nari pretty much needs to tend to everything in the cult, its kinda funny tbh, I love your Nari!

@acis-arts so adorable! They look like a child, I just wanna pick them up and kidnap them! (im gonna kidnap them) @neon-virus yours looks so nice, and such like a gentleman, so handsome! Can I adopt them? And if not can I kidnap them? And if not well too bad, their mine now @seffen yours looks like it's gonna take your eyes out and then watch you slowly die of blood loss... so in other words adorable demon that I wanna hold even if it hates me! @voidheartkisses Adorable! so innocent looking! I loved drawing them, their fluff, the ears also, I've never drawn ears like that before! @alllgator-blood Just like the lamb I love the shapes and I love how your Narinder's personality is like! It's so funny! @foxritz Yours looks grumpy, maybe it's just how I drew them? but the fluff was fun and also the ears were also quite different from what I'm used to so It was also fun to draw those!

@plenty-sheep-in-the-sea from what I know you don't have a lamb that is posted yet so sadly I couldn't draw a lamb for you in my last post! But your traumatized young Narinder is adorable! @unwri-ten I loved drawing them, they give such a sassy drag queen kinda vibe, if that make sense (?) @aubeezz Yours is adorable and fits with how I drew your lamb very well! I love the cheek fluffs! Adorable! @skyartworkzzz thank you for pointing out the gender thing, again I'm sorry about that! but moving on! Your Narinder was really fun to draw, the little cheek fluffs on the side remind me of my own narinders cheek fluffs! I also love the cloak! @rampantram Yours is absolutely lovely, I love your art style a lot! Just as fun as drawing your lamb! I look up to you a lot!

@ghosts-and-glory can yours age or does their fur just fall out? anyways! I love your AU, the storyline is amazing and when I first found you I sat there rereading like every comic kinda thing I could find on your account like 50 different times! @aveloka-draws Yes I'm ok. No it does not take long. I loved drawing your Nari, they look confused but pissed, and yet again all Nari's look pissed no matter what, the outfit is also really fun! I love drawing your style of characters, their so pointy and fun... if that also makes sense in anyway...?

Here is my Narinder! He's based off of a mink color point cat! So instead of being black, he's a brown cat with black smoked patterns, or known as the Siamese markings! He lost all memory of the bishops being killed and himself defeated, so Lamb helped him through it until he gained his memory back, and when he did he became a lot like Shimura. He was pretty much mindless in a way... I just wondered around aimlessly and wouldn't respond, sometimes he comes back but very rarely, Lamb worries about him a lot. the cloak was made by lamb as a welcome gift to make Nari feel for comfortable in the cult! Also the thing on Nari's finger is a butterfly! It's his butterfly friend! No name yet but if you have ideas but tell me, I'm terrible with names! Sometimes he has panic attacks which make his eyes cry blood, plus whenever he opens his third eye it instantly starts bleeding. He also has eyes on the palms of his hands but you can't see them at the moment, he can see how people die with them!

#mistaken #au #my au #other au #cotl narinder #cult of the lamb narinder #narinder #cotl art #cotl fanart #cult of the lamb art #cult of the lamb fanart

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eowynstwin · 1 year

Text

a wake-up call

previous - neighbors - next

You deal with the aftermath of the previous night. cw: masturbation reference

Three knocks on your front door wake you up.

The sound feels at first like the thump of your own throbbing brain against the inside of your skull. Awareness comes back to you slowly, in gradiated shades of stiff joints and greasy skin. You shift, and find you’re still on your couch, still in your clothes from last night. Your eyes are filmy, sticky with dehydration—you blink several times to clear them, to little effect.

The knocking, a three-beat staccato, comes again.

“One second,” you croak irritably, cupping your forehead with your hand. Your skull might come apart, you think, if you move too much.

Your entire body feels like it is suspended from loose, tangled marionette strings as you struggle to sit up on the couch, and you wobble to that effect as you stand. Somehow, your flat has tilted at thirty degree angle, likely sometime in your sleep. You make it to the door at an oblique, having to lean on the jamb as you open it, and to add insult to injury John is standing on your doorstep like a clean, shining beacon of sobriety.

He’s in a dark shirt and jeans. His hair is casually neat, as if he’d styled it with his fingers. He looks fresh-faced, as if he’s been awake for hours already.

“That’s not fair,” you groan.

His brows draw together over cool blue eyes. “Jesus, love,” he says, looking you up and down.

You think you should say something back. But your head is too full of ache and interrupted sleep—and the bright shock of his presence—to produce anything intelligent.

“John,” is all you say, and you sound absolutely pathetic.

“Was gonna accuse you of standing me up,” he says ruefully, “but I see that’s not the case.”

“No,” you say dumbly. The fact that he’s come to seek you out gets tangled up in the strings. “Um.”

It is so far out of the ordinary as to be dreamlike. John’s knocking belongs on the other side of your wall, not your door. His boots belong on his own doorstep, making room for your house slippers at the time of your choosing, not his.

“Am I still drunk?” you wonder aloud.

John gives that little huff-laugh of his. “I doubt it.”

You rub your face. “Have I overslept?”

“Just a bit,” he replies. “I’ll admit, when I didn’t hear you move around this morning, I got worried.”

“I fell asleep on the couch,” you confess. You put a hand to your forehead as your brain throbs again. “Oh, I shouldn’t have drank that much.”

“Love,” says John, gentle and soft, “why don’t you let me in, and I’ll make you some breakfast?”

You blink, and you’re sure now that you’re still drunk.

John. In your flat. Cooking?

“I’m not fancy in the kitchen, but I manage alright,” he suggests further. His gaze is warm on yours, brows lifted encouragingly.

“…Sure,” you say, and shuffle to the side to let him in. If this morning is determined to be strange, you might as well not get in its way.

He gives you a small smile and crosses the threshold.

Your flat shifts again; as he enters your living room, it seems to shrink, or maybe it’s just that John fills your home in a way no one ever has. His body, his presence, casts new light on the interior that throws its existence into unfamiliar repose. Details—the softness of your furniture, the cozy clutter of books and knickknacks spread across every available flat surface—offer unmeasured insight into who you are, more than you might ever have intended to reveal to John.

It’s only when he’s halfway to your kitchen that you realize one detail—the bright fucking pink of your vibrator, still on your coffee table—is glowing like a neon sign.

And your previous night’s activities come flooding back.

Your body, draped over his. The scrape of his beard on your hand, your face.

The furious grind of your mons against that toy as you pictured him taking you, drenched in hot shower water and pressed bare to the tile wall.

You are fully, painfully awake now. You stare, frozen in shocked terror, waiting for him to catch sight of it, but his head does not turn in its direction. He passes by it with no indication that he even noticed.

You dart over and snatch it behind his back, shoving it deep into your dress pocket, and grab up the empty water glass for an excuse. Then you have to put a hand to your head as your vision swims from the sudden movement.

“Have eggs?” John asks over his shoulder. He enters your kitchen. “I can make ‘em any way you like. Fried, over easy, sunny side…”

“Um,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut, “scrambled.”

You follow after him, and lean against the wall to watch as he opens your fridge. His hand engulfs more of its handle than yours ever has; the musculature of his powerful body visibly shifts beneath his clothes as he has to bend down to root around the shelves.

He is broad in your kitchen. As broad as he’d been between your legs, in memory and in fantasy.

You don’t realize you’re staring until he straightens and puts the eggs, butter, and milk on the counter. Your breath hangs suspended in the shallows of your lungs when he catches your gaze.

His brows crease again. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”

“Um,” you say, again, because it’s the only sound your brain will reliably supply.

To your horror, he comes to you, and—oh, god—takes your face in both hands.

“You’re warm,” he says. “Do you feel sick, love?”

Your brain supplies nothing now. It is so unfair, how good he looks the morning after drinking nearly half a bottle of scotch. His features are velvet-soft, so easy and wonderful to look at that you stop feeling your headache entirely.

“I really think I might still be drunk,” you admit, sounding pathetic.

His thumbs rub into your temples as he smiles at you. “Hell of a hangover, then.”

The pressure of his fingers is an incredible relief, and you close your eyes as you give into it. You feel, if your knees suddenly gave out, that he would easily be able to hold you up like this, as if you weighed nothing. His hands are a little cool from rooting around in your fridge, and the rest of him is warm, standing close enough that his body heat reaches out to you with the freshness of a recent shower. You want to fall into that warmth, bury your face in his chest…

Your eyes fly open. You hear your own voice again—I wanted to touch you, and I wanted you to hold me. You feel, again, the echo of his body between your thighs. Your heart starts beating wildly in your chest as embarrassment, hot and acidic, pumps through you.

“I think I need to sit down,” you whisper.

He strokes your temples, and surveys your face with a gentle gaze. “Sure, love. Go ahead.”

And then he releases you, and you try to remember how to walk as you return to your living room. There is no relief to be found as you sit down on your couch, which is indented by the dissatisfied night.

“How’d you sleep?” John asks from the counter. You hear him crack a few eggs into a bowl. This is the first time cooking has happened in your kitchen with you outside of it, and the cognitive dissonance of it does not help to steady you.

“Like the dead,” you say, rubbing your sore neck. Then, you decide to lie to him. “I—I think I passed out before the door even closed last night.”

John looks over his shoulder at you, and he smiles. The vibrator sits cold in your pocket. Are you imagining that glimmer in his eyes? “Wouldn’t be surprised. You were pretty out of it.”

“I didn’t end up drinking the whole bottle, did I?”

A chuckle. “Not quite.”

“Didn’t you drink as much as me?” You try to recall, and think you can remember him matching you glass for glass. “Why aren’t you out of commission?”

“The army never cares if you’re hungover, I’ve found,” says John. “Guess I learned to stop caring too.”

You hear the sizzle of whisked eggs spreading over a hot pan, and for a while there’s only the sound of John moving a spatula around.

You watch him in your kitchen, his back to you as he stands at the stove. His long-sleeved shirt clings to the breadth of his shoulders, planes of shifting muscle underneath casting shadows through the soft cotton. The collar hangs a little low down his neck, leaving enough room for the dark hair at his nape to curl as it dries.

It makes something in your stomach twist, twinning your nervous hunger with unstable desire. It’s something that wants to walk back into the kitchen and wrap your arms around his trim waist, press your cheek between his shoulder blades.

“Want anything else?” John asks. “Could make some toast.”

“Eggs are fine!” you say too quickly.

The spatula scrapes softly against the pan again. As he turns to open your fridge, you swear you see him grinning.

Heat blooms across your face. SAS. Of course he could feel you looking at him.

It does not take him very long to finish cooking. Space bends once again as he leaves your kitchen, as he comes to you with a plate balanced on one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other. You feel smaller than you ever have as he approaches, and sets the meal in front of you on the coffee table.

“Hope it tastes alright,” he says, sitting down beside you. He sinks into your couch cushions, far more dense than you are, and looks quite comfortable doing so. “I made ‘em how I like ‘em, but no guarantee you’ll feel the same.”

You look from him to the eggs, which are golden yellow and steaming pleasantly. “You didn’t make yourself anything?”

There is a softness in his eyes when you look back to him. You’ve seen it before—it’s there every time you hand him a new book. “Don’t worry ‘bout me. Just eat.”

You can’t protest when he’s looking at you like that, so you obey, suddenly ravenous once a forkful is between your teeth. The eggs are whipped to a wonderfully soft fluff, salted perfectly, and you think you can taste the barest hint of butter. You can’t help shutting your eyes to savor the taste.

“Good?” John asks. “I’ll admit, I’m not much of a cook, but I think I’m all right at eggs.”

Usually you like to add things when you make the same dish—potato chips, broken up into little crumbs, or a dollop of sour cream and salsa. For once though, right now you’d be disappointed by all that.

They wouldn’t be the eggs John made for you.

The thought makes your stomach twist again. “Delicious,” you say. “Thank you.”

He watches you eat, and you try not to feel self-conscious. He seems almost—satisfied by this, by feeding you, more than you would expect him to be. But then, this has always been the case with John. You have never understood why the smallest of things you do have such an impact on him, but they do nonetheless.

“John,” you say. “About last night…I wanted to apologize.”

Dark brows crease as you set the empty plate down. “What for?”

“I got so drunk,” you say. You won’t look at him, face heating, strangling your own fingers in your lap. “You—you had to carry me home, and I’m so embarrassed by the things I said, I was so inconsiderate.”

“That’s not—”

“You must have felt so uncomfortable,” you continue, “you were so nice to take me out, and there I was acting like a lush with no self-control—”

“Darling, it’s fine—”

“And then after, the way I—I pawed at you—”

He says your name—fully and clearly, firmly—and it catches you so off guard that your words halt in your throat. You finally meet his gaze.

John’s eyes have always been windows. Portals into the truth of him, freely offered, without hesitance or fear. You think John knows himself in ways few men do—knows every corner, every crack and crevice, and refuses to hide any of it from himself or anyone else. As if he is not afraid of being seen for what and who he is; as if he has seen it all already, and cannot be daunted by it.

What you see now is undisguised. Untempered. John Price wants you. And he has no fear that you can see it.

“Did you mean any of it?” he asks, voice low and deep in his chest.

The question catches you off guard, throwing you with its directness. The only thing keeping you upright is his gaze, the steady certainty of its own intention. Strong even under the weight of suspense.

You swallow, and take a shaky breath. “John,” you say, “I was so drunk...”

His eyes flash. John moves, leans forward, and you are speared, held in place much the same way you had been at dinner, by his presence alone. “I know. But did you mean it?”

The breath trapped in your lungs calcifies, solidifies into hard, pressing nodules of catalyzed fear and desire that trap the seeds of any response in your chest. You tear your gaze away from him, finally, stare at the empty plate on your table. He does not touch you, but you feel the phantom weight of his hand on your knee. The warmth of his body against yours.

“We hardly know each other,” you whisper shakily. It is a flimsy scrap of an excuse, even to you. “We—we barely know each other at all.”

“Love,” John says, low and soft. You turn to look at him again. His lips part—

Your phone rings.

You exhale hard, strings suddenly cut. John closes his eyes, breathes out, and then leans back again.

You retrieve your phone from where you’d flung your purse last night, off the couch and to the opposite wall where it lays on the floor. When you see the caller ID, you want to throw the phone back across the room, but you take a deep breath and answer anyway.

“Ben,” you sigh, and to your furious embarrassment it comes out as a croak.

“Hey, sweets, Liv is—wait. You sound awful,” comes your coworker—and ex-boyfriend’s—voice through the earpiece.

“Rough night,” you say, closing your eyes against sweets. You then look at John. His gaze is fixed on you.

“Oh, sorry,” Ben says. “Anything I can do?”

He could have not called. “Tell me about Liv,” you prompt him.

“Right! She’s out. Flu.”

“Oh.” You blink, and watch John retrieve your plate and glass. He takes them to the kitchen and runs the faucet low, so the sound won’t interfere with your call.

You’re not sure how you know that that’s his intention, but you do.

“That’s awful.”

“And inconvenient. We need another instructor for the trip.”

Can John hear what Ben is saying? He looks up from the sink, lifts one brow when you meet his eyes. There’s humor there, a kind of rueful empathy for dealing with the nonsense of coworkers.

You want to hang up. You want to answer his question right then and there.

“When?” you ask.

“Two hours. I know! I know it’s short notice,” he says, animatedly contrite. “Sorry. But we’d love to have you, it’ll be fun! I can even pick you up, if you like.”

“No, that’s alright,” you sigh. “But okay, I’ll start packing. Just send me the details, yeah?”

“Sure, sweets,” Ben replies, “can’t wait to see you! I’ve missed hanging out, you know? Even after…everything.”

The gravitational force of John’s presence—the shift and bend of your flat around him—snaps in half. Reality asserts itself like a recurring headache.

Suddenly you’re in your flat, phone to your ear, unshowered from last night and coated in a layer of grease. The vibrator is a useless weight in your pocket. You are a useless girl hungover in day-old clothes.

“I’ll see you soon,” you say noncommittally, and hang up.

John gazes at you expectantly from over the sink.

“Work trip,” you say, and you wonder if you sound as dazed as you feel. “Last minute, I…I need to get ready.”

John blinks, and then grins, amused. Crow’s feet gather in the corners of his eyes. “You know, I’m usually the one in that situation.”

Suddenly he is too much to look at. You tear your gaze away, look at your phone in your hands. You feel very exposed, ashamed somehow. “I’m sorry,” you say.

You hear the easy drum of John’s boots out of your kitchen, across the room, and then he’s in front of you. His hands are in his pockets, arms slung loose at his sides. “What for?”

“For…”

He steps closer to you. Your heart leaps in your chest, and you have to look up at him, unable to resist the pull he has on you.

The line of his mouth is gentle, and you stare too long at the divot of his Cupid’s bow. Beneath the soft lines of his brows, his gaze is soft, fond. More so than you deserve.

“I don’t really know.”

The long muscle in his neck shifts as he tilts his head. You swallow, unconsciously mirroring the gesture.

“John…I…”

His gaze drops—rests on your lips, and returns to yours.

“Love,” he murmurs, low and humming. “Did you mean it?”

His voice slides across you like physical touch, and every hair feels like it’s standing on end.

Yes. Yes, of course you meant it, every word. It feels so obvious to you, so blatant, and the shame of it holds you by the throat. You are not important enough to inflict upon John Price. You are trembling, meek, afraid of stepping outside your own door sometimes. What is that in comparison to him? Him, who comes home shaking off the dust of places you’ve only ever heard of. Him, who you’ve learned can swear in six different languages. Him, who has stuffed more life than you thought possible into only a handful more years of living than yours.

Of course you want him. Moths are always drawn toward flame. How could you not?

“John,” you say in your smallest voice. You hate the way it sounds—like an admission of guilt. “What if I did?”

He doesn’t move, but you see the shift in him anyway. A coiling, almost, energy banking as he studies you, searches your face. His hands remain in his pockets. He watches you for a long moment, and you can’t possibly imagine what he might like in what he sees.

“Ball’s in your court, then,” he finally says, soft and low in his chest. “Whatever you want from me, love, you can have.”

You want too much. You can’t give enough back.

“I don’t want to ruin this,” you say on a shallow breath. “Our—us. What we already have.”

He steps closer to you. Close enough that his shirt brushes the front of your dress. Close enough that his clean, soft warmth near-envelops you, the exact same way you’d been wishing for earlier. He does not reach out, like he did when he thought you were sick. You cannot decide if this disappoints you or not. You feel shaky without his hands on you, feverish and embarrassed, and you fear desperately that he can see that as he holds your gaze, that you are completely open to him in a way that leaves no space for the truth to hide.

“You won’t,” he says, steady and solid.

You take a trembling breath, swallow to clear your throat. “I…”

He withdraws one hand from his pocket, slowly, and brings it upward. Feather-light, he curls his index finger under your chin, caressing his thumb so terribly gently beneath your bottom lip. You cannot help flinching, anticipatory want recoiling from the very thing it was aching for in surprise, and for a split second you are newly scared that he’ll take his touch away.

But he doesn’t. The windows of John’s eyes stay open, and there is nothing but intent behind them. You realize he knows. He knows that you’re reluctant, that you’re unsure, that you are pulled to him like a falling star to earth and also terrified of burning up in the process.

He understands.

“I’m a patient man, love,” he purrs, and you realize too that he is excited by this, by you. “I can wait. As long as you need.”

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just-a-drawing-bean · 1 year

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Your profile picture is incredible do you have more like it

Thank you, I do! I did a whole bunch of spooky month style sun and moon drawings a while ago before i got tumblr! Here’s all of them starting with my pfp

the spooky dances

middle frame of spooky dance for a spooky collab

and various interactions with sm characters

all of this is from last year, shortly after spooky month aired

#sun fnaf #moon fnaf #fnaf #security breach #spooky month #roy spooky month #pump spooky month #skid spooky month #skid and pump #happy fella #spooky dance #ask response #bean art

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meanbossart · 8 months

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i just need to take a second to gush about how much i love durge drow and astarion, they feel so fleshed out and perfectly written together in their fucked up wretched ways. They really inspire me to write more for my own tavs, hopefully one day ill be able to say im as happy with my own work as i get when seeing yours. I have to ask though, do you have any tips on drawing head shapes and faces? or maybe about wrinkles? i find i really struggle with that stuff when drawing and i adore how expressive and grungey all your art looks!

First of all thank you so much, I love hearing what people think of the two of them together 😭

Honestly you've hit on something that's quite near and dear to my heart, I love developing and figuring how to draw and stylize different faces to get the most unique, interesting looking results - everything about the details is highly rewarding to me. What does x type of nose look like from this angle? In this style? How can this eyeshape best translate to my art? How different does a face look when its making this expression? What does that MOUTH DO? etc etc.

In fact you kind of inspired me to put a little tutorial/guide together the last hour lmao and what a blessing it is that the two current subjects of this blog serve as great models here, being that their faces are basically polar opposites!

When it comes to heads, you've probably heard it a dozen times before that you want to think of them in terms of geometry and facets; my process to drawing them is pretty conventional so I won't spend too much time on it, but it goes something like this:

Obviously I don't do every single one of these steps most of the time, which is just something that comes from practice/developing muscle memory, but it is helpful to start off this way for two main reasons:

By making these guide lines and splitting a head into pieces like this, you'll have an easier time seeing and understanding it as a multidimensional object, and in turn, facilitate It for you when you venture out into doing wacky angles and lighting.

Making different headshapes starts HERE. notice how Astarion's "face" slate is narrower and longer, how my durge's jaw pieces sit lower on the head, how all of the same pieces came together in the same way but we ended up with one real pointy elf and a real brick of a drow - making characters look different successfully begins very early in the sketching process.

The next thing you want to do branches out into every day life: start noticing yours and other people's facial features. How does an upturned nose look from a high angle? How does the size of someone's cheekbones affect what they look like when they smile? How about when the light hits them a certain way? Does someone's lip shape changes when they pout? When they laugh? How does a person's hairline change the shape of their face? You do NOT need to creepily sketch every stranger you see on the bus, but get into the habit of actually noticing what people look like when you talk to them - when you look at pictures, when you watch movies - make a mental list of interesting ways mouths, noses, and eyes can come together in a variety of different proportions to make completely distinct looking mugs, and how they change depending on how you are looking at them.

Light and shadow play a HUGE role in how faces look, too, basically as crucial as actual bone structure does. As you see up there I tried to rough out how natural, head on, and underhead light would look on these two very different looking guys, and while we can see definite patterns, there are small differences that come to be because of the sizes and shapes of their features.

Here is a very, very basic look at how some of these features come to look the way they do, how they interact with one another, and how they compare between a blocky, rather conventionally "masculine" head and one that's much softer and slimmer.

Note please that it is not one or two characteristics that give a chaarcter their "look"; you can reduce a face to eyes, mouth, and nose through stylization and still have them be recognizable, but if you want to do more than that, you have to consider the whole package! Chin, cheeks, brows, direction of the jaw, slope and size of the forehead, depth of eyes, ridge of the nose, etc - I know this is probably far more than you bargained for, but if you start making note of a FEW of these things now and slowly add on, this will eventually become second nature to you.

Similarly, understanding how these characteristics come together will help you with rendering light and shadow in a realistic way, and predicting what their facial expressions may look like - if no two people are alike, neither are their smiles. :)

Lastly, remember that I'm no expert - I have developed my own methods and semiotics and yours may look slightly (or vastly) different, and that's fine! I hope only that by sharing this it has given you a base to work off of.

Anyways, I HOPE this has been helpful and not just the unsolicited ramblings of a face pervert.

#ask #art #advice #tutorial #astarion #DU drow

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honeyshiddendesire · 6 months

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Dirty Alphabet

Pairing: Luffy x female reader

*banner*

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

What even is that lol If you’re hungry or thirsty I can deadass picture him shouting for Sanji full birthday suit out on display without any shame

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I think his favorite on you would be your waist no matter the size but only for the fact that he wants to wrap around it like the monkey man that he is. His favorite on him would be his arms cause they can pick up meat and all his favorite things like you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

On you or in you and I can see him cumming alot whether he’s pent up or just went multiple roads

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Can totally see him enjoying watching you masterbate without your knowledge. You leave the door open a crack and he wants to bust in but instead I picture him doing a whole head tilt and for the first time sitting there in silence watching you in a trance.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

NAH zero experience until you come along but he figures it out through basic instinct. I feel like Ace and Sabo told him just like basics only

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Mating press and doggy style idk why but I feel like he would love folding you in half and then also bend you completely.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

No shit that man is the epitome of goofy lol a straight looney tune

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Not trimmed at all to him its natural or nothing lol

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Not romantic unless you tell him. The most romance you’ll get is him bringing whipped cream to the bedroom or chocolate so he can eat it off you lol

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Definitely see him jacking off alot after a fight while eating some food but he loves to masturbate along with you

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

FOOD PLAY!! Pouring some chocolate all over and whipped cream licking you like the desert you were meant to be.

Limb stretching! Whether it’s stretching his dick, fingers or his tongue I can picture him being totally turned on to see how much of him you can take. You’re probably a Straw Hat anyways and he knows he has the strongest crew whether on the battlefield or in the bedroom

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The head of the sunny and anywhere else on the ship lol what is privacy for him lol

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

I think he would freak out seeing you eat a popsicle. The classic moment were some melts and you have to lick it off and he just loses it

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I can’t see him wanting to make you bleed, if you have your period that’s fine but him being the one to draw blood is a total no.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Pussy Eating King lol have you seen the way that man cleans a plate? Best believe he’ll lick you exactly the same way and I think he would love receiving. Seeing how hot you look as you gag on his dick as he stretches it to watch you drool all sloppy

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough for sure lol

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies would happen if you ask for them or if you’re eating something that triggers that spark in him then he’ll instantly go feral

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Loves risks he’s a pirate after all so experimenting would be awesome as he’ll see it as a challenge

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Definitely full of energy to go as long as possible till you’re begging him to cum and have mercy on your poor pussy

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Don’t see him as the type when he’s a walking toy himself

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Doesn’t seem like the type to have any patience for that kind of stuff

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Loud and totally unashamed by it. Won't necessarily dirty talk he just happens to speak stuff thats filthy, a moaner groaner and grunter for sure

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Spit kink! Loves seeing your lips glistening with his spit or yours. If you’re sucking him off and sees you drooling then theirs hearts in his eyes all of a sudden

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Pretty average but it’s fine since he can stretch any limb on his body

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty chill unless something sparks his interest

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Almost immediately lol

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koolades-world · 8 months

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Hey there! I'd Like to request something. So like, MC is an Artist (Style doesn't matter they just have to draw humanoid things) and then they draw the brothers+dateables in their style, what would the reaction be?

hello! sure thing :)

I myself am admittedly not a very good artist, which is my my preferred art form is writing. the only time I draw is usually during gartic phone games with friends, and thanks to my franticness under a time limit it's always very chaotic. but at this point I've just embraced it and it's always funny

enjoy!

Artist Mc

Lucifer

you draw him while he's seated at the dinner table on a saturday morning while he's reading the newspaper and enjoying a coffee

not that you didn't intend to show him, but suddenly he was leaning over your shoulder, staring, and it caught you off guard

as you scramble to explain, he just smiles and sits back down in his chair and goes back to what he was doing to keep being you model

once you're done, he asks if he can at least have a copy to keep, which in itself is a huge compliment, but it's so he can think of you every time he looks at it 🥺

Mammon

during class, he happened to look super cute as always while looking wistfully out a nearby window a few rows in front of you and the lesson was getting boring anyways. next to your notes, you begin to doodle him, using highlighters for color

you forget it's there and lend him that very notebook since he had tuned out that same lesson

once he opens it, he seems himself and doesn't know how to react. he's a babbling, red mess

once he regains motor functions, he shakily declares that it's very becoming of the Great Mammon and that you did a great job. success!

Levi

the two of you are hanging out in his room. he's playing a ruri game and you're lounging behind him, sketching on a bean bag

you're not drawing anything in particular and were searching for an idea when suddenly, the idea found you

levi wasn't paying attention to you, so you could easily look at him and ruri, and sketch them side by side in matching outfits

once he stops for a moment to get a snack, you happily show him the drawing and he does the demon equivalent of blue screening. give him a minute to reboot then try again haha

Satan

when you decided to draw him, the two of you were seating together, with you in his lap while he read a book so he saw the drawing from it's first line to it's last

made positive comments about it the entire time, like about how you captured the green of his eyes perfectly, or telling you his hair looked better in the picture than it did in real life

at some point, he stopped pretending to read the book and sat watching you with his chin on your shoulder

he added cute little notes around it once you were done with little hearts around them

Asmo

he's asked you to draw him jokingly a few times, but never expected you to actually do it the next time he asked

when you tell him if he wants, he can pick something else to wear, he almost strips down so you can draw him nude but you stop him as soon as he started to take his shirt off

he scurried away and was back quickly in a new outfit, and posed how he would for a picture

talks to you basically the entire time you draw, and once you're done, he squeezes you into a tight hug and asks if he can post it on his Devilgram

Beel

after joining him enough times for Fangol practice, you knew it well enough to begin making sketches of him as he practiced

drawing him in action was a little challenging since he never held still, but you were determined

you drew a few since his practice went on longer that day, and got to proudly show him the results

he was equally as proud of you since he thought you did a great job. he asks if he can have one, and if you give it to him, you'll find it hanging up next to his bed next to all his Fangol trophies <3

Belphie

he's an easy model to draw thanks to his lethargy, so you often find yourself sketching him

something about his peaceful nature and natural frosted tips was just so drawable, so you had at least a few pages full of him napping in various positions with different blankets

one time, he wakes up while you're next to him drawing, and is a little shocked in a good way. he didn't know you viewed him that highly

he's still half asleep, so he just compliments your artwork and moves to lay his head on your lap, then falls back asleep, ensuring you're the flustered one now

#obey me #obey me!#obey me satan #obey me x reader #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me levi #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me belphie #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #headcanons #gn reader

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thrillered · 1 month

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Couples Tattoos | Spencer Agnew x Reader Oneshot

Here's my little blurb about a tattoo I noticed during this vid and I'm obsessed with it. I know the pic is blurry asf but I had to screenshot it from the smosh mouth ep 😭

"I think I want to get a tattoo.” you mentioned offhandedly while you were working on your laptop, sitting near Spencer.

“You should, I think it’ll be cool.” Spencer agreed.

“I just want it to be important I guess.” You remarked, scooting closer to Spencer. “At least for my first.”

You didn’t have any tattoos. You always wanted to get one but felt nervous about putting something so permanent on your body. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, had many tattoos. He frequently got tattoos; he had gotten 4 since you got together. You adored his tattoos, you thought they were so nerdy and fun but made him extra attractive.

“Can we get one together?” You asked.

“Seriously?” He asked, turning his whole body to face you, with a surprised face. “That’s a big commitment.”

“Well I love you and I don’t plan on ever not being with you so..”

Spencer couldn’t help but smile at this. The sentiment made him giddy and why not? You had been together for years and Spencer planned on marrying you one day.

“Let’s do it.” Spencer agreed, wholeheartedly ready to make an appointment.

“Really?” You asked, the widest smile on your face.

“Fuck it man.” He laughed, both of your work long forgotten. “I’ve gotten tattoos of absolute bullshit, at least this would be meaningful.”

—

You and Spencer had been brainstorming tattoo ideas for weeks, doing intense research on styles and artists. As excited as you both were, neither of you had any clue what to get. Spencer wanted to let you have the final decision since it was your first.

You were laying in bed with Spencer, watching a movie. You flipped over, settling your head on his chest and laying your leg over his, straddling his side slightly. This was your favorite way to cuddle, it felt intimate. Spencer knew this about you. It was something he had noticed very early on in your relationship, and he loved it. Something about the way you loved being close to him brought him a lot of joy. You settled into Spencer, sighing when you found the perfect position.

This was when Spencer had an idea. He didn’t want to wake you, as you were on the verge of sleep, but he immediately wrote his idea down on his phone.

The next day when you both went into the office he made his way to the art department. “I need one of your guys' help.” He said, walking up to the group of desks.

“Okay?” Erin Kushner asked, pulling her headphones off one ear.

“I need a concept design for a tattoo, doesn't need to be anything crazy.”

“Yeah sure, what's the tattoo?” Erin agreed.

Spencer explained his idea, getting teased by Erin for how cute your relationship was. Erin quickly drew up a perfect picture for him. He was incredibly excited to show you it, knowing you would fall in love.

—

He waited until you were home and settled. You were cuddled on the couch with him, watching as he scrolled through twitter. “I think I have the perfect tattoo for us.” Spencer said, pulling the paper out of his pocket. “I thought of it last night but wanted to get it drawn out to show you.”

He showed you the drawing Erin did, noting the gasp that left your lips. It was a Keith Herring-esq drawing of two figures lying together, cuddled up in your favorite position.

“Wait, I love it, that’s so cute.”

“It's the way we always lay together.” He explained, even though you already knew, he was just excited to talk about it.

“This is the sweetest thing ever, it’s perfect. I love you Spence.” You squealed, smiling into a sweet kiss you placed on his lips. “Wait! We can fill in the one that represents us.” You offered excitedly.

“I love that.” Spencer smiled, his heart swelling at your excitement. “I’ll book an appointment tomorrow? We’ll probably get in within a few weeks.”

You agreed, rambling about where you should get it.

—

Three weeks had gone by and today was the day of your tattoo appointment. It wasn’t until yesterday that you decided your placement, you and Spencer both wanting to get it on your inner arm.

Spencer got his tattoo first, showing you it would go just fine. It eased your nerves, calming you down before you got in the seat.

He held your hand the entire time. You told him it was okay and the pain wasn’t awful but he insisted on holding it the whole time to “keep you calm”.

When the appointment was over you and Spencer had the most beautiful couple tattoos. Your artist took some pictures for you and you both immediately posted them, excited to share it with the world.

Even though everyone knew you and Spencer were in love, now you both had a depiction of your love immortalized forever.

#spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew #spencer agnew/reader #shayne topp #smosh games #smosh #smosh pit #smosh spencer #smosh cast #smosh fanfiction

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elizabethsnuts · 3 months

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Mini Genius

Spencer Reid x Daughter!Reader

Summary: You and Spencer go see the team at Quantico, you wanted to show everyone how similar you were to you dad.

———

Spencer carefully adjusted your tiny beige cardigan, making sure it sat perfectly on your small shoulders. You looked up at him with wide, curious eyes, you absolutely loved dressing up like your daddy. Your hair was neatly styled, and you wore a small bow that matched the colour of Spencer’s tie. You were getting ready to go see the team at Quantico, you loved going to see all your aunties and uncles.

Spencer helped you put your white socks and little Mary Janes on, getting you out the door of the house. He carefully strapped you into your car seat, checking the harness twice to ensure it was secure. You giggled in delight as you watched your daddy’s focused expression. "Ready to go see the team, sweetheart?" Spencer asked with a smile.

You nodded enthusiastically and smiled brightly. “We gonna see, Auntie JJ, Auntie Emily, Auntie Penelope! An’ Uncle Derek! An’ an’ an’ Uncle Hotch!”

Spencer chuckled as you listed off the team with your little high-pitched voice, you really did adore the team. “Yep, we’re going to see everyone!”

———

Spencer walked into the elevator, you securely on his hip, your tiny feet swinging and wiggling as you eagerly waited for the elevator to go up. Your outfit really was a miniature version of Spencer’s, you wore a tiny vest over a button-up shirt, complete with little slacks, your tiny Mary Janes and of course your cardigan that sat over the vest and button-up shirt. It was clear that you idolized your father, mimicking his style down to the last detail. You had it down to a T.

When the two of you reached the bullpen, the team was already there, immersed in their work. JJ was the first to notice you. Her face lit up with a bright smile as she stood up and walked over.

JJ took you from Spencer’s arms and hugged you. "Look who's here!" she exclaimed, drawing the attention of the rest of the team. You squealed with delight as you saw familiar faces, waving excitedly to everyone.

"Well, if it isn't the littlest profiler!" Derek called out, standing up from his desk with a broad smile. "And she's dressed just like you, pretty boy!" He approached the three of you and he couldn’t help but tease Spencer. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "Reid, did you forget to check your mini-me's wardrobe this morning?" he teased, earning a chuckle from the others.

Spencer chuckled and looked at you. “What? There’s nothing wrong with her outfit. She likes it!”

You nodded and smiled. “Daddy looks nice.” You stated simply.

"That he does," JJ chuckled, stroking your hair. "But I think you definitely pull it off more."

Morgan bent down and ruffled your hair. "So, Y/N, do you also have the smarts like your dad?"

Your eyes lit up, and you nodded vigorously. "Uh-huh! Daddy says I remember lots of things."

Morgan raised an eyebrow and looked at Spencer. "She's already showing off, huh? Just like you."

Spencer shrugged, a proud smile on his face. "It runs in the family."

"Alright, then," Morgan said, turning back to you. "What can you remember?"

You quickly pulled out a small, colourful book from your backpack. "Daddy took me to the aquarium, an’ I learned all about fishies!"

"Oh yeah?" Morgan's interest was piqued. "What did you learn?"

You opened the book and pointed to a picture of a clownfish. "This is a clownfish. They live in warm waters an’ like to hide in sea anemones. The daddy clownfish takes care of the babies."

"Wow, that's impressive!" Morgan said, genuinely astonished. "You remembered all that?"

You nodded enthusiastically. "An’ this," you flipped the page, "is a hammerhead shark. They can see really well because their eyes are on the sides of their heads. They like to eat stingrays."

Morgan looked up at Spencer, “Okay, pretty boy, I see you’ve made a carbon copy of yourself."

Spencer smiled proudly. "She has an eidetic memory, just like me. She remembers everything we read about at the aquarium."

JJ smiled at you as you flipped through your sea animal book. "I take it you had fun at the aquarium?"

You nodded vigorously, continuing to flip through the pages. "Yes, yes, yes, Aunty JJ! I saw lots an’ lots of fishies. An’ I remembered all their names!"

"Tell Aunty JJ about the octopus," Spencer encouraged you.

Your eyes lit up, and you turned to JJ. "An octopus can change colours to hide from predators. They have three hearts an’ blue blood!"

"Three hearts and blue blood?" JJ repeated, clearly impressed. "That's amazing, Y/N. You're so smart!"

You smiled shyly at the compliment. “Thank you! You know that boy seahorses carry the babies? An’ that starfish can grow their arms back!” You said excitedly with a smile. “Daddy reads bedtime fish stories lots and lots!”

JJ chuckled at your excitement and hugged you closer. “I think that all your sea animal facts are super super cool! I think that when you see Henry next he’d love to hear all about it!”

You giggled and nodded, clapping your hands together in your toddler-like excitement. “Daddy we go see Henry soon? With Aunty JJ!”

Spencer chuckled and nodded, taking you back into his arms. “Sure we can! We’ll organise a day for it, don’t worry.”

———

As the afternoon turned into evening, Spencer gathered up your things, ready to head home. The team gathered around to say their goodbyes, each one giving you a hug or a high-five.

"Come back soon, okay?" Garcia said while she hugged you and gave you double high-fives. “We love having you here, N/N."

You hugged her tightly, your little arms wrapped around her. "I love you, Auntie Penelope."

Spencer took your hand once more, and you waved goodbye to the team. As you walked down the hall, you looked up at your father. "Daddy, can we see more fishies tomorrow?"

Spencer smiled down at you. "We can do anything you want, sweetheart."

You grinned, satisfied with that answer. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, Y/N," Spencer replied, lifting you up into his arms for a hug. He knew that no matter where life took him, as long as you had each other, everything would be alright.

#daughter!reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x child!reader #fluff

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alicenpai · 1 year

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"Lament! Terror! Despair! I shall kindly teach them all to you! And in your final moment, I... shall kill you by my own hand!!"

pandora hearts print for anime north this weekend 🥀🖤🤍

I also put this up on my inprnt! there's a sitewide sale for 40% off right now 🌟

For this drawing, I really wanted to emphasize the gothic and chaotic, convoluted nature of the series. Pandora Hearts has become a lot of things to me, as someone who's read it since I was like, 14 years old. but I eventually found the perfect words to sum up the series - a cross between a Shakespearean tragedy and a Grimm fairy tale.

The ink brush + watercolour brushes I used turned out so well together!! I wanted the style to be kind of a nod to like the manga cover art you'd see from the late 90s to 2000s, kind of like Mochizuki's early approach to traditional art.

A lighter approach to both the lineart + coloring also helped me not strain my arm too much - besides work, I stopped doing full illustrations due to the amount of work being heavy on my arm/shoulder T__T. my last full illustrations were the TGAA/DGS zine + WHA zine pieces back in Dec-Jan, but my heart really lies in illustrations more than anything and I definitely want to get back into it!! (as long as my physical health allows it!!)

anyways, above is the thumbnail/inspiration board for this drawing! I also did some quick chickenscratch studies of others' drawings to help me get a sense of their composition. I started on the top left and then made a sort of meandering curve through... definitely went through a lot of ideas for this one. If I explained the intended symbolism.. I would be here.. all day..............

the candles were definitely first inspired by an animation of a lighter I did during art skool... and then I did this AA Dahlia animated illust... and then this OC charm (below) I did in 2022...? maybe I should draw fire more often. it's like, the way that fire looks in animated keyframes that I really like drawing out, and I guess I kinda really enjoyed translating that into a non moving visual medium??

This drawing simultaneously took SO long but I also sped through it?? I had to like... not dwell too long on certain parts... like for example I think some individual character compositions really could be a lot stronger... because I knew this would be a beast of a drawing, I didn't want to spend an unnecessary amount of time focusing on details when I should be looking at the big picture. and I know that's a bad habit of mine!! I'm trying to unlearn my perfectionism!!

thanks for reading if you got this far, hope ya enjoy it!! and I hope I'll keep drawing Pandora Hearts in the future (clearly I haven't stopped since high school omg) and I hope to draw some more Vanitas someday beyond just chibis!

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soaringwide · 3 months

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Pick a Card: What is Unique about You?

Hey :p

Welcome to a new pick a pile reading. Today we'll do the winner of last poll, with What is Unique about You? Which is a ''get to know yourself'' type of post.

We'll look at 3 different things: what makes your mind unique, what makes your heart unique, and what unique wisdom do you hold. For each row, I'll draw at least 3 cards to get a full picture.

So focus on the picture that draws you in the most, and remember that this is a general reading meant for multiple people so it might not resonates 100%.

Check out all my pick a cards here

I'm also on ig

I offer paid readings, see my pinned post :)

PILE 1

Cards: King of swords, 2 of Cups, the Emperor, Ace of Swords, 10 of Swords, Page of Swords, Queen of Wands, King of Cups, Page of Wands, 10 of Wands

Right off the bat, pile 1, you have a very intellectually active mind, always pushing boundaries and looking forward. Air and Fire dominate your reading, and there is a strong presence of King figures. You seem strongly seated in your power and the things you've learned, and may shine as some type of authority figure to those around you. With two Tens, there is also the idea of completion, which implies the end of a cycle as well and the beginning of a new one. But let's look at the rows.

What is unique about your mind:

To you, seeking knowledge is the greatest form of power one can aim for, and you take it to heart. You're always reaching out to learn more, which is a way for you to transform yourself and overcome life's difficulties. Your mind is explorative, methodical, and forward thinking. I also get the idea that you might be neurodivergent in some way, and that you use this thirst for knowledge to bridge the gap between you and people, always pushing to learn more about those around you, like an eternal student of humans, which helps you function in society. You like order and cataloguing things, organizing everything you've learned in systems which again helps you understand the world and those around you better. There is no topic that your mind cannot tackle, you break things down until you have full control over them. You probably have many areas of interest.

What is unique about your heart:

You've been through your share of heartaches and know what it feels like to hit rock bottom. Despite that, you've never let it paralyze you for too long, for you know that when you fall the only way is up. You're heart is brave and determined, but you may also guard it fiercely. Your heart is ruled by your mind, but it also has a strong passionate fire which fuels your progression in life. You've got this well of optimism within you that makes you look forward in spite of everything else. You probably hide it well though, and may enjoy a more twisted or darker style of humor, which is well-meaning and is more the result of your life experiences than a desire to shock for no reason. For you, laughing in the face of pain is a way to move forward and to tell life that it can't keep you down forever.

What unique wisdom do you hold:

You know that you can overcome anything with the sacred fire on your side. Your unwavering passion and go-getter attitude are the reasons why you came this far. You've also learned that your emotions are not here to put you down but great guides that can help you through life if you listen to their messages. Despite your mind ruling everything, you're deeply empathetic and while you keep that to yourself, it is a strong force that underlines the way you move in life. You've learned that it's necessary to work hard to get what you want and you're deeply ambitious, not so much in financial matters since pentacles are absent from all of your cards, but on a soul-level.

PILE 2

Cards: Ace of Wands, the Hanged Man, 3 of Pentacles, Ace of Swords, Queen of Swords, Knight of Swords, 3 of Cups, 8 of Wands, 4 of Wands, 10 of Pentacles, Page of Wands, the Magician

What makes your mind unique

This is the pile of the deep thinkers who plan ahead carefully in order to take the right actions. You have a knack for thinking outside of the box and being highly creative, which allows you to see the steps ahead in a very practical and goal oriented way. It may look like you take your time before acting, but so much is happening under the surface, and when you do decide to move, it's calculated and purposeful. There is also an element of passionately researching things before setting on an opinion, relying on the wisdom of others to feed your own. There is no end to your quest, there's always something more to learn.

What is unique about your heart

You are a deeply honest person who strives for being true to what you feel and think. You may have a tendency to rationalize your emotions, which may make you look a bit harsh or detached at times because you say things as they are without considering how it makes other people feel. However, you are deeply loyal to your circle of loved ones and will go above and beyond to defend them. You are highly communicative of what you think/feel (those things tend to blend for you) and do not hold back in any circumstances. Being truthful is a way to honor yourself and you like speaking up, not only to make things right, but also, to bring clarity to yourself. It's like you need to talk or write to bring sense and order into what happens within, and you tend to do the same for others.

What unique wisdom do you hold

Again, a very fiery creativity comes through here. You've learned to be proud of yourself and what you've achieved. That in order to create something great, you must start with the first piece and patiently build it bit by bit. And that will mean different things for different folks, but for example it could be a creative venture, or a career/studies, or even a strong social circle that took you years to nurture. You never lost your passionate spark, always looking forward to what can be improved, looking up optimistically. There is no end to your adventure and you want to add even more wins and achievements to your track records. You truly are a creator and truth seeker in the deepest sense, inventive and clever, and your found the fire to carry you forward for years to come.

PILE 3

Cards: Justice, Temperance, 8 of Wands, 4 of Cups, the Hermit, Longing of Wands, 8 of Swords, 5 of Cups, Death, 7 of Pentacles rx, Queen of Wands, the World

What is unique about your mind

You are very quick thinking, rapidly making connections between things and sparking new trails in your mind. It's a way for you to bring order to your perception of the world, to make things right and balanced through understanding and making up your own opinion on things. You are very aware of humans shortcomings and have some type of rational empathy for the failures of others. You have a very neutral approach to things and always make sure you have all information at hands before making a judgement, but once you do, there's usually no turning back.

What makes your heart unique

You're somewhat a bit closed off emotionally, which makes you distant from your emotions. You have a very explorative way to approach them, as if you had to actively seek to understand them in order to perceive what they want to say. You really think that your emotions are to be listened to, but you also often feel threatened by them, which makes you hesitant to let yourself feel them. The other side of that, is that you can easily feel overwhelmed and stuck in what you feel, unable to see beyond. But you're fully aware of that and determined to see through this mystery. You may need to spend some time contemplating what you feel, perhaps through journalling or meditating, or anything done alone, which also implies that when you can't do that, you remain in the fog. You're also not someone who acts against their heart, which may freeze you in place a bit when you're not sure about how you feel. You are whole and authentic in that way.

What unique wisdom do you hold

You've been marked by loss and grief in the past, and felt like something that you held dearly, something you cherished and put a lot of effort into, got struck and destroyed. But you're fully aware that change, even when dramatically painful and unwanted, brings the seed of something new, and that you can find a new beginning in all things. This gave you a vicious sense of independence and optimism. Like the only way to get revenge on life is to shine brighter. You keep your sufferings close to yourself and I get the feeling that you go back and forth between looking back in regret and looking forward in hope. I do however feel like the hope side is stronger these days because of that wisdom of change I was talking about. Life is made of cycles and you know how to dance with its tune.

#pick a card #tarot reading #pac readings #tarot #tarot community #divination #tarotblr #get to know yourself

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