#drawing two characters hugging is HARD

[rbtlvr]

oh god they absolutely are. i was originally gonna just do angst about how cmh leo has Not Been Hugged In Over A Year but then i remembered that also means his family has not hugged (a) leo in over a year soooo

that said...

(+ individual hugs under read more just because)

[artnerd1123]

Finally watched tadc ep 4 and ;_;

Gangle……..

(Spoiler talk in the tags)

[apologetic-artist]

Why am I having so much trouble redrawing something I drew with my FINGER on my DRAWING TABLET with a STYLUS

[the-acid-pear]

today's prompts are spiders and self insert so i've been thinking of drawing nembone and a uh, bunger. but Im still thinking around the uh. ? i cant remember the word HELP the fucking COMPOSITION there.

[light-wrath-paradise]

No I am pretty sure it actually isn't the norm to make a movie poster for your My Hero Academia OCs but go off I guess

everyone should be weirder about their ocs more.

[carnalcrows]

WHITE COAT, RED HANDS

pairing: chishiya x top male reader

content warnings: 18+, chishiya is a sociopath, hearts game, major character death, blood, ftm chishiya, oral (reader receiving), p in v, general AIB warnings.

word count: 2.4k

You meet Chishiya in a game called “Karma.”

No one knows the full rules until they’re already inside — typical of the Borderlands. You only know three things when you walk into the rust-colored warehouse where it’s held: the game’s a Hearts suit, it’s for pairs, and you’re stuck with the blond guy who’s barely said a word since you got scanned in.

“Looks like we’re partners,” you say, offering a hand.

Chishiya glances at it, then at you. “Lucky me.”

His voice is flat, clinical. Doesn’t take the handshake.

You drop your hand. “You a doctor or something?”

“Used to be.” He keeps walking, hands in his pockets like this is an errand he’s annoyed to be running.

There’s something unreadable in his expression — or maybe that’s just his face. He’s got this quality like he’s always three steps ahead, but can’t be bothered to tell you what’s coming. The kind of guy who might let you drown just to see how long you could hold your breath.

You follow anyway.

Because there are only two kinds of people left in this world: the ones you can use, and the ones who’ll use you first. And you’ve learned the hard way it’s better to be close to the former — even if they look like the latter.

“Cool,” you mutter under your breath. “Stuck with the cryptic type.”

“Better than the loud type,” Chishiya replies dryly.

You glance at him. “You always this charming, Doc?”

He twitches an eyebrow. Just one. “Only when I like someone.”

That makes you laugh, unexpectedly. “So I’m fucked, then.”

He looks at you, slow and sideways. “Not yet.”

Then he keeps walking, as if he hadn’t just said that.

You hate the way that line stays with you.

The warehouse door slams shut behind you both with the kind of finality that makes your stomach tense. A countdown lights up on the far wall in blood red:-  00:59:59. One hour. No instructions.

You both scan the room — crates, high catwalks, and a flickering overhead light that casts shadows like they’re watching.

“I hate Hearts games,” you mutter.

Chishiya hums. “People usually do.”

You shoot him a look. “You sound like you’ve played more than a few.”

He doesn’t deny it. Just wanders toward the nearest crate and pops it open like this is a casual scavenger hunt.

Inside: two vests. Black, fitted. One for each of you. You pick one up and notice the red LED embedded in the chest and shaped like a heart.

“Not ominous at all,” you say.

Chishiya’s already sliding his on. It hugs him close, snug around the ribs. You try not to stare, but he catches you anyway.

“Like what you see, or just trying to figure out where to stab me later?” he asks, voice too casual.

“Can’t it be both?”

That earns a small smirk. Not quite a smile, but the kind of curve at the edge of his mouth that feels like a reward. You kind of hate that it makes your pulse jump.

Once you both suit up, the LED lights flicker to life. Yours flashes red. So does his. Then a metallic clunk echoes from above, and a screen buzzes on.

“Welcome to Karma.”

The voice is male, modulated, and void of any emotion.

“You and your partner share a life. Your hearts are linked. One dies, both die.”

A pause.

“But to win… only one may remain.”

You look at Chishiya. He’s unreadable again. As if he didn’t just hear a death sentence wrapped in a riddle.

“The game begins now.”

Then the lights go out.

You draw your knife on instinct.

Somewhere in the dark, Chishiya says softly, “This part’s always fun.”

Your voice drops. “You know how to win this, don’t you?”

A long pause. Then:

“I might.”

That makes your grip tighten. “Planning to share with the class, or are you just gonna play puppeteer until it’s convenient to let me die?”

There’s movement. A footstep behind you. You spin — knife raised — and feel a hand close around your wrist, steady but not aggressive.

“I’m not going to let you die,” he says in that same flat voice. “Yet.”

“Yet,” you echo.

The light flickers on for a heartbeat. Long enough to see his face close to yours, half-shadowed. Then dark again.

“You’re enjoying this,” you murmur.

His hand slips from your wrist. “You’d be surprised how few people are fun in the dark.”

You move in silence for a while. The kind that pricks your skin because it’s not truly silent — the warehouse breathes. Vents rattle. Metal ticks. A slow, mechanical hum pulses beneath your feet like a heartbeat that isn’t yours.

Chishiya doesn’t seem affected. He walks beside you like he’s on his morning commute. Calm. Controlled. The picture of someone who doesn’t flinch even when the building itself feels like it’s watching you.

You glance over. “How the hell are you this calm?”

“I’m used to being hunted.”

The way he says it — flat, without ego — should sound like bullshit. But you believe him.

“And you’re a doctor?” you ask.

“Was.” He pauses. “Still am, technically.”

“Right. Doctor of hearts, huh?”

That gets a proper smirk. Just a flicker. “Clever.”

You snort. “You know, most people don’t look smug after admitting to possible homicide.”

“I didn’t admit anything.”

You’re about to respond — some sarcastic quip already loaded — when the warehouse shifts. The floor jolts with a loud hiss, and metal walls snap up from the ground, boxing you into a corridor that didn’t exist two seconds ago.

“What the—?”

“Maze,” Chishiya mutters, already walking ahead. “Figures.”

“Wait—” You grab his shoulder instinctively. He stops. Looks down at your hand. Doesn’t pull away.

His gaze lifts slowly. “You don’t trust me.”

“No,” you say. “I don’t.”

He tilts his head. “But you want to.”

That shuts you up for a beat. The hum beneath the floor ticks louder. Red lights blink at the corners of the ceiling.

“You gonna tell me what you meant earlier?” you ask. “About not letting me die yet.”

“I mean exactly that,” Chishiya says, voice soft but cold. “I need you. For now.”

You laugh once, low and bitter. “You’ve got a real way with words, doc.”

His eyes flick to yours again. “You’re still here.”

You don’t have a response for that.

The next corridor is narrower. Walls dripping with condensation. Your shoulder brushes his once, twice, until neither of you bother stepping aside anymore. It’s stupid — the smallest contact — but it feeds something between you. A tension that feels almost like a test.

“You’re not afraid of dying, are you?” you say.

“No.” Chishiya’s gaze is forward, steady. “I’ve made peace with it.”

“And killing someone else?”

His eyes flick sideways. “That’s not the question you want to ask.”

“…What’s the question, then?”

“You want to know if I’d kill you.”

You swallow. “Would you?”

He stops. Turns to face you in the dim corridor. The blinking red lights give his face a flicker—soft, then sharp.

“If I said no,” he says, “you’d be stupid to believe me.”

Then he leans in just enough that you feel his breath, calm and infuriatingly even. “But if I said yes... I think you’d still follow me.”

Your heart thuds, traitorous and loud. You don’t know if it’s fear or want or both.

You mutter, “You always this cryptic with people you plan to backstab?”

“Only the ones I like.”

Your jaw clenches. “You’re insufferable.”

“I know.”

You lean a little closer — not thinking, just moving on instinct now — and mutter, “Do you always flirt in murder mazes?”

His gaze drops to your mouth. “Only with idiots who flirt back.”

Then his hand grabs the front of your vest and drags you forward, not gently. Your back slams against the wall, and his mouth crashes into yours.

It’s not romantic. It’s rough and hot and too fucking much — all the tension, the danger, the push and pull of not knowing who’ll betray who — and it unravels in seconds. His tongue parts your lips without hesitation. You groan into it, hands gripping his hips because it’s the only part of him you can grab that doesn’t feel like a trap.

Chishiya’s kiss is strategic and brutal. Not gentle. He bites your bottom lip and pulls just enough to make your cock twitch in your pants. Your hips rock forward, involuntarily, and he smirks against your mouth like he expected it.

“You’re really hard,” he murmurs, low and flat in your ear. “Impressive.”

“You’re really fucking annoying,” you breathe.

“And yet, you want me to keep going.”

He drops to his knees.

He’s on his knees like he’s done it before. Like it’s second nature. No hesitation, no reverence — just a methodical slide of fingers to your waistband, popping the button open with practised ease.

You watch him through shallow breaths. One hand braced to the wall behind you, the other twitching with the urge to grab his hair. But he’s not looking up at you for permission.

He’s looking at your cock. And when he pulls it out, already hard and leaking at the tip, he hums — a quiet, pleased sound, like you’ve passed another one of his secret tests.

“No complaints,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

Your chest rises with something between pride and disbelief. “You always do this with people you might kill?”

Chishiya glances up then, eyes half-lidded. “No. You’re special.”

Then he licks a slow stripe from the base of your cock to the tip.

Your breath stutters. Your head tilts back and hits the wall with a dull thunk.

His tongue is warm, deliberate, not rushed. He wraps his lips around the head and takes you into his mouth in slow, steady inches. His hands are cold on your thighs, anchoring you as he sucks you in deeper — not messy or desperate. Just efficient. Intentional. Like he’s cataloguing every sound you make.

“F–fuck, doc…”

His lashes flutter at the nickname. His throat tightens around you as he swallows a little deeper, and your fingers tangle in his hair without thinking. He doesn’t stop you. Doesn’t fight the grip. If anything, he leans into it. Uses it to go deeper.

He sets a brutal pace after that — not fast, but intense. Hollowing his cheeks, flicking his tongue under the head, teasing and then swallowing you whole again. Your knees buckle once, and he presses harder into your thighs to steady you, like he knew it would happen.

“Shit—Chishiya, I’m—”

He hums again, sending vibrations through you just as you come, heat spilling down his throat. He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t break eye contact. Just swallows like it’s nothing and pulls back slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You sag against the wall, heart pounding, still trying to catch your breath.

You’re still panting when he stands, wiping the corner of his mouth like nothing happened. Like your orgasm was a minor detour.

But there’s a flush in his cheeks now. A flicker of something in his eyes.

Want.

You spot it the second he pushes you back against the wall again, fingers ghosting along your jaw. “Can you keep going?” he asks, low, almost clinical.

You snort, a breathless sound. “You kidding?”

Chishiya doesn’t smile, but there’s the barest twitch in his mouth. He steps in and kisses you, finally, open-mouthed and quiet, tasting faintly of you. It’s softer than you expect. Almost gentle. But it only lasts a beat before he turns, and without a word, walks toward one of the crates behind him.

You watch as he shrugs off his hoodie and shirt, tossing them over the metal edge. And when his pants go next, what’s left between his thighs leaves no questions. There’s a harness strapped tight to his hips, black and minimalist, but you can see it clearly when he turns and walks back to you, slick already glistening between his folds.

You blink.

He tilts his head. “Problem?”

You step forward without a word, grab his hips, and kiss him again.

He presses into you without hesitation, one hand finding your cock and guiding it between his legs. He’s wet—hot, and when you slide into him, he exhales slowly through his nose, like he’s trying to maintain control.

“Fuck—” you mutter, grounding a hand on his lower back. “You’re soaked.”

“Of course,” he says. “You’re the first person who’s made it this far.”

You want to ask what he means by that. But then he tightens around you, rolling his hips with expert precision, and your brain short-circuits.

The rhythm is fast, deliberate, but not frantic. You pin him to the wall now, bodies flushed, your cock buried inside him as he works you with movements that feel almost mechanical in how precise they are. Every grind pulls a sharp gasp from your lips. Every twist of his hips feels calculated — like he’s memorised exactly what it takes to keep you right on the edge.

He lets you manhandle him. He lets you bite at his neck, groan against his ear. But he doesn’t moan. He doesn’t beg. He just watches you, eyes half-lidded, expression unreadable — like he’s processing your every reaction, filing it away for future use.

You grab his thighs and lift him. He wraps his legs around you easily, arms hooking behind your neck. You fuck up into him harder now, slamming into that wet heat over and over, the lewd sounds of skin and slick echoing off the walls.

He finally gasps — one sharp, ragged breath that punches from his lungs — and that’s what undoes you. You curse, burying your face into his shoulder as you come deep inside him, warmth flooding his cunt, your whole body twitching as you ride it out.

Your grip on him tightens.

You don’t even feel the knife slide in.

It’s only when your breath catches in your throat, sharp and wrong, that you realise what happened. Blood fills your mouth. Your legs falter. You both sink to the floor.

He stays straddled over you, cock still inside him, as your body collapses beneath his. His chest rises and falls evenly. His hands are warm against your jaw as your vision starts to fade.

“I wanted to wait until after,” he murmurs.

You gurgle something. His face softens.

“I wasn’t lying. It felt good.”

Your blood is everywhere now — on his hands, his stomach, pooling beneath your spine.

He leans down and kisses you again.

Soft. Warm. Almost apologetic.

“Only one survivor.”

And then he slips off your lap and rises to his feet, walking toward the blinking green light at the end of the hall. The blade, slick with your blood, swings loosely in one hand.

GAME CLEAR.

Taglist: @zolass @edensrose @tamias-wrld @ilovesugurugeto69 @planetxella @mazettns @longlivegojo @midnight-138 @literallyrousseau @vimademedoitt @useless-n-clueless @flatl1n3 @hikaurbae @lexkou @razefxylorf @abrielletargaryen @coco-145 @eagleeyedbitch @deathofacupid @gayaristocrat @porcalinecunt @whatsaheartxx @thecringes2000 @sageofspades @g4vcat @itsrandompersonyall @blvdprn @blueemochii @sappychat @onyxxxxqq @axetivev @s1llygo0s3 @crazydirectioner2000-blog @thestarsallowed @honey-valentin3 @academiq @gaozorous-rex-blog @idkmissgurl @seomn

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time, and I take genuine effort to do them.

[braaan]

Sunday Best (w/ Eunseo)

male reader & wjsn eunseo

fluff & smut, 3k words

As far as you’ve rationalized, it doesn’t make any sense.

For starters, you and Eunseo have been together since high school, and this is far from the first time she’s been in your apartment.

The first time, hours after a mutual friend’s birthday party gets cut short, Eunseo’s throwing up in your bathroom. It’s a tale as old as time: the Friday night of a long weekend, way too many groupchats, high school bravado kneecapped by Fireball shooters — it’s messy, and senior year. You get you’re her boyfriend’d into nursing her back to life, and one grueling night shift later, she’s under your covers while you’re trying to get comfy on your small-for-sitting futon. And despite how early she’s up the next morning, between the still warm almond croissants on your countertop, the deep hug she pulls you into before you can drum up anything sarcastic, and how much better your basketball shorts sit on her waistline — drawstring double-knotted, waistband rolled all the way up — it’s hard to stay mad.

Another time, you’re coming back from date night, and before the front door even closes in on you two, she’s walking your apartment’s perimeter, pulling out supplies from a backpack. You’re trailing her, trying to simultaneously close the distance she covers and read the tiny labels on household items she leaves in her wake. Before long, there’s not a countertop unmarked by these tiny rubber characters (“They’re called SMISKIs”), all of your spaces start to predominantly smell like daisies, and you don’t recognize half of the brands in your bathroom. Any other time: you’d say something. Any other time: you’d stand up for yourself; puff your chest into the slight height difference. Any other time Eunseo wasn’t reappearing from your bedroom in a tiny cotton shirt and all eight inches of these plaid blue pajama shorts: yeah, you’d draw your boundaries.

Sometime after that, in the lull of quiet comfort and work from home, her legs are in your lap as you both bat away questions on individual video calls. Difference couldn’t be any more stark. Twelve minutes into your morning meeting, in between unmutes of your desktop microphone, you’ve tallied up a total of twenty words, and have entertained a serious-and-three-quarters imagination about where else you could call into this — your camera’s off, after all. Eunseo’s your in-office foil: her chocolate hair freshly straightened, her baby blue button up perm pressed, her small talk status quo. Eunseo’s full of shit. Just off camera, unobvious in her digital four walls, she hasn’t changed out of your heather gray boxer shorts she wore to bed.

So, really:

It’s not the first time you’ve seen Eunseo wake up in a pair of shorts.

It doesn’t make any rational sense how much it still gets a reaction out of you.

--

Granted, it’s an unreal view.

The sun hurries through your curtains to pool around her feet, daybreak serving as stepping stones as she pads to your en suite. Golden yellow melts into her milk chocolate hair, spinning already light browns into shades of almond and sand between sunlit highlights. A breeze picks up through the fabric, and the light breaks. One moment she’s haloed, cast in sunlight, all of her curves etched in radiance; the next, momentarily obscured, a dream in soft-focus, half-glimpsed and inviting whole-yearning. From where you’re propped up on your elbows, she flickers in and out of reality and reverie, real-deal and daydream. She’s a light show in slow motion, superposition between technicolor and transfiguration; sunkiss and shadow in perfect ballet, catching an everyday angel between the light that loves her and pockets of beautiful mystery that make her all the more alluring.

All of this to Eunseo: her morning routine.

She walks without hesitation. Even when it’s mundane, there’s a tangible confidence in the way she sprays sea salt into her hair, carding her fingers through her roots.

It’s the one thing that threw you for a loop about her, really: for a long time, you were waiting for the character to drop. Blended between candor and how you’d be able to read anything just off of her facial expression, Eunseo was headstrong, and always heart first. Early into your relationship, it was unnerving. Younger yous bounced between bouts of ‘wow, that’s frank’ and ‘what are you compensating for?’. You got where you were in life — to you: where most people didn’t — by never playing all your cards, and here Eunseo was all the same, hand face up on the table.

Though it doesn’t take you too long to eventually admit that forward is sexy.

It’s in the way she asks for what she wants, unbothered by the answer, discarding pretense and step-by-step; it’s in the way she’ll take the lead without warning, showing up after work at your lobby to take you on a night she’s pre-planned; it’s in the way that — because on the weekend, you wake up on her time — she’s six feet away from you, tip-toed, peeling at the curtains: all the way stretched out.

And outlined in daylight, you don’t miss a detail.

For starters, her shirt’s way too small. It’s this light material: cheap white cotton that curls in on itself at the hem. And as she reaches out at the Roman shades, revealing more and more skin, you can explore all the small of her back, run imaginary hands along where her shirt stops, down the soft line where skin kisses spine. You can trace your thumbs at the space just above her hips, skirting shapes at her waistline, dancing just above the navy soccer shorts Eunseo wore in tenth grade, faded far from school colors, and tiny as hell.

You could sit there for hours — you’d find new angles to obsess over.

You get half a beat.

“It’s rude to stare, you know?”

And in one motion, Eunseo closes the distance between where she was and where you sit, quickly cross-legged on your comforter.

“And even ruder to have fun,” she starts, patting the blankets grouped around your waist, “all by yourself.”

“Fuck off,” you spit, batting away at her forearm. The blood runs to your cheeks, and your ears are hot. “You might as well be wearing nothing — what am I supposed to do?”

Looking at you through her fringes, the edges of her lips pulling into the start of a smile, she doesn’t need any words — it’s a brutally honest admission.

“You’re saying,” she whispers, “it’s these you like?” Both of your eyes flick to where her hands find the trim of her shorts, tracing the stitching at her thigh, following a runaway stripe with a fingernail — matte white, all insidious, and teasingly slow.

“Eunseo,” you try again flatly. “Fuck,” and there’s a pause here, implicit now anything but, “off.” 

Which would be half convincing if you could take your eyes off of her legs.

You’re tracing her thigh in your head, filling the toned crease with your gaze, painting Eunseo’s legs with attention.

She leans into you, and makes it hard to think. Your thoughts are cloudy; in the moment. Nothing becomes more top of mind than the smell of daisies.

There’s a half beat.

Then a whisper against your lips: “Tell me what you like.”

Forward is so fucking sexy.

Kissing Eunseo is like fire: hot, and all at once. She’s running her hands under your shirt, snaking her legs under your stomach; she’s whimpering against your bottom lip, redirecting your hands onto her chest; she’s running her tongue against your teeth, wedging herself square in all of your focus — you’re trying to keep up.

You’re kneading at her chest through cotton, creating new creases, feeling the bud of her nipple get hard in your hands.

You’re tugging at her t-shirt, stretching fabric out of form.

You’re molding Aphrodite — palming, gripping, shaping. Sculpting divinity on earth called for hours of sanctification, and you were here to worship.

Eunseo’s like putty to it all — so sensitive, and pliant at your fingertips. She’s moaning at your mouth, then whispering praises. Hushed against your lips: more, more, more, more, more.

You blink life back into your eyes, and magnetically, inherent like gravity, they fall onto hers. Filled with the night sky — wine-dark, galaxy-wide, abyssal, fully oblivion — even now: hooded, sultry, and all shades of dangerous, they felt inevitable, like they were where yours belonged. They beckoned — like they were written in all of your universes, like all the right roads led back to them.

And it’s like Eunseo reads your mind, because all of a sudden: she’s scarlet, a very red blush dancing across her cheeks.

“Okay, pretty boy,” she starts, catching her breath. Then, gathering her hair into a ponytail: “I’m going to blow your mind.”

And without hesitation, because you’re still stuck in ten seconds ago: “You look so cute.”

And because now she has to: “I’m already going to put you in my mouth, you don’t have to flatter me anymore.”

--

Eunseo’s flipped over, her cunt inches from your lips, drawing lines along your length with her tongue. And you’d return the favor quicker, if not for how mesmerizingly methodical she was. You’re catching glimpses of bits and pieces in the negative space between your bodies. Through her t-shirt: a flash of the flat of her tongue as she reaches the tip of your cockhead, her white nails replacing her mouth around your shaft at the top of her dips, her pretty pink pout — how they all disappear as she takes your cock down her throat. She knows all your soft spots — what you like; where you like it — and always gave you what you loved.

It feels like it all makes sense -

Your hips bucking into her mouth on her downbeats, the saccharine song she starts humming mid-bob, the precum-stained kisses she’s leaving along your length in legato, the half-notes they send across your nervous system -

- all of you feels like it rhythmically belongs together.

“Eunseo,” you manage to grit out, and you feel her smirk against your cock.

You can narrate it in your head. Hm? she’s goading, minxy moxie maxed out. This is all it takes to make you cum? There’s a half-choke — a rough buck of your hips. Fingers curl around your shaft — the hum she has in the back of her throat picks up. A little bit of your cock in my mouth? You’re like a tuning fork to it all. You’re dizzy.

And you’d probably die then and there, if not for the last resort of your tongue on Eunseo’s cunt.

It’s one of the only things that levels her, really.

All the build up is cut in half, tempo slowed down to a grind as you swipe long, breathy flicks of your tongue on Eunseo’s pretty pussy. You’re pacing yourself against a water droplet–rhythm in your head. Arms hooked around her thighs, thumbs tracing circles counterclockwise on her skin -

Down.

Build.

Up.

Down.

Swell.

Up.

It’s unholy the noise she makes next.

Too adorable to just leave hanging.

“Look at you, Eunseo,” you taunt, where the start of a stanza would go, and then drop back into cadence — no air for her to respond — tongue back on her slit. 

And against against your mouth, it’s almost like all of the candor is causal — all the forwardness just carefully-crafted camouflage to get you on her cunt — because reduced down to a mewling mess, white-knuckle around your bedsheets, spine arching to get even closer to the flat of your tongue, there is no back talk. Eunseo was yours, her cunt was all yours, and she was so willing to follow.

Doubling your efforts on her heat, lapping against her little pussy, tracing a thumb around her clit -

“Baby,” she whines.

- Eunseo knows she’s coming undone.

And in this full-on, two-part second that you’re completely lucid to -

- she does.

At first, it’s like time’s frozen. You can feel her tense up under your breath, cheat one last gulp of air, tighten her thighs against your forearms.

Then, everything’s in fast forward. Eunseo unravels. She’s scrambling on polyester, looking for a hold, any grip to support her through how hard she’s cumming on your tongue. The words caught in her throat catch up to her, and all the way through her high, she’s conjoining cuss words, peaking into falsetto as you line kisses along her cunt. Son Eunseo melts against you, onto you, unwound and fully fucked.

But never enough to return the favor.

Gracefully sensual, she straddles you, catching herself on your chest, sitting square on your hips, parking up against your length — you’re caught off guard by the sharks.

Plastered against Eunseo’s shirt: an elementary guide to enough shark species to line anyone’s trivia back pocket — Whale, Great White, Mako, Tiger, Basking -

And because now she has to: “My eyes are up here, perv.”

And without hesitation, because this time that’s genuinely low: “Oh, fuck you.”

And not a beat after that, right against your lips, and riding further up your cock: “You only wish.”

Eunseo’s mouth is on yours, and then so’s her tongue. And as she’s exploring your chest with her palms, thumbing at your nipples, you can only smile. You don’t know why you doubted yourself: with Eunseo, there’s no way anything’s a character.

There’s a beat that you both take, and in the next, there’s a shirt over your face.

You’re blinded, covered in SHEIN sheer, and — instincts taking over — you reach your hands out to grab at anything.

You find Eunseo’s waist as she takes you in her pussy.

It’s hot, it’s tight, it’s needy. She’s getting you both back on beat, picking up the pace, up-and-down on your cock, side-to-side on your hips — you’re trying to keep up.

Your grip tightens, and it’s downright unholy: your thumbs touch at her belly button.

She’s so small, so tight, so in your hands, and so fucked, so fucked, so fucked -

“Cum in me,” Eunseo exhales, then suffixes: “in me, in me, in me.”

Your head goes into overdrive — it’s a time bomb: pulsing, racing, tensing; it’s a million miles a second, and so fucking dangerous. You’re gritting your teeth, crushing her waist in your grip -

And because now you have to, and in lossless lucidity: “Eunseo, fuck off.”

She’s so fucked.

And you know in the moment that follows -

How quickly she finds her place under you, picking up where her fingers were last on your cock — kissing, twisting, sucking, her matte white fingernails hypnotic up and down your shaft -

How guttural the moan you let out feels, like it comes from your tailbone -

How hushed the holy shit is on your lips as Eunseo swallows load after milky load -

- how fucked you are, too.

(You always will be.)

--

There’s a little song and dance you play after Eunseo pops back out of the bathroom.

Again: it’s not either of your first times with each other, but like routine — still and forever — you’re falling into characters you know and love.

Eunseo’s laying it on thick, walking like a textbook taught her how to: drummed-up and exaggerated, heel-toe, heel-toe. Hands folded behind her back, she’s in this half-bend, lips pursed, eyes wandering: suddenly fascinated in the brushwork on your walls or how light catches random trinkets, bending over to the left, the right, and just under to make sure their shadows are still there. It’s all but complete, just missing a laid back whistle; it’s all comically stupid, just always the most adorable thing.

Of course — and only after two full minutes of the charade, drawn out and profusely slow-burned; only after you’ve rolled your eyes so hard they might stick, tension just under boiling point — her little exploration leads her to your bed.

And with that kind of setup: anything she said would’ve landed.

So “... you don’t want to put a kid in me …” absolutely does.

Her head’s in your lap now, face cracked in this darling half-giggle.

Outwitting Eunseo is a losing game. You never win. Not against the air that lingers around her, peppered sweet and spicy, intoxicating even when you were both sober. Not against her expert balance of prickly and precious, cutesy-cocky carefully-crafted. Not against the crescents in her eyes when you’re this deep into a bit. You don’t really have to.

She kisses you, and it tastes like the promise of time: that you’ll always have more.

It’s pre-teen sweet, spiked with hands brushing soft spots: it’s goofy, it’s whole, and you’re both giggling — trading tender breaths, sharing secrets in the exhales, melting smiles into each others’.

Here — in between the playful banter, nose-to-nose with Son Eunseo — you’re complete.

“Want a coffee?”

(And it’s probably the only thing you’ve done once and only once. You should make the coffee.)

“I’ll make us two.”

--

:')

feel like everything's been fast paced recently, so hope not cringe to say that this has been a serious refuge for me. domestic... interplay (?) is so fun to explore, and i could probably tease out established relationship footsies switchy blurry lines forever — hope you enjoyed!

thank you @majorblinks for the beta (my twin flame and no one is ever going to do it like us), @chunksworld for giving me the push to write eunseo (guys girl enjoyers!), and @passingnotions for everything in between (u next.)

[choochooboss]

Submas Sketchdump Vol. 4 July 2022 Part 2!!

I knew that particular month beat my all time record for productivity multifold but I had forgotten SO MANY PIECES from the original collection!! I think I finally got them all?? More stuff under the cut!!

BREAKMAS!! WIP of the first piece I posted of them, here's the link to the final version! I tried coloring this first but the black & white had ultimately more impact so I went with that!

TRAINS!! I like this base color version too! Link to the final version!

The top sketch is a direct reference to Cluedo! A spinoff game, "Missingo", starring certain familiar characters trying to figure out what happened to Ingo/trying to prove their innocence in the case! Also WIP sketches for these two Breakmas comic pages!

As you may know I adore butlermas! For the classy and stylish look which appeals to me in general, and coincidentally I had played PLA & got hit by submas train only one week before butler Ingo's banner rolled out! The pure bliss of finally meeting both twins in a game I felt was incomparable!! This moment in the Curious Tea Party event was really entertaining to me! We got to see submas get serious and stand up against this selfish collector thief! Two towering train twinks with commanding voices looming over the unfortunate guy was enough to make him change his mind ahah! They truly are the protectors

1-hour submas challenge prompt "Descend"! This is the actual one hour result before I continued rendering this!

Mmmmm not my first attempt at drawing them hug and definitely not my best OR last. I want to make that moment something very special when I finally go all out on it!!

Comic cover vibing~

The scrapped last page for this silly comic! Sorry the dialogue is all over the place on the first piece, might be hard to read! I wasn't happy with how I presented Elesa, I wasn't familiar enough with her character back then so I thought of her carrying a toy taser to threat her friend even as a joke was too much and I couldn't come up with anything else for it. This held me back from posting the other three pages for another 5 months! In the last panel

I prefer to not mess up the twins too much but my brain is still very curious and conjures some peculiar stuff like this sometimes.. I think I may have broken his arms there looking at the anatomy, ooops! I hope you don't mind the photo quality or the two weird guys in the corner, they escaped containment!

Idea of warden Ingo, being projected to modern era by his Alakazam, walking through crowd on a train platform & Emmet standing inside a passing train. Their eyes meet for just a few seconds...

Pokemas Ingo practise!

Another WIP of a piece I posted! I started this piece like this but then later I decided to flip the whole thing.

YET another WIP of something I already posted! No idea why I went and mixed up his suits but I like this sketch! They rarely end up looking this clean haha

Sketch version of the self-defense practise piece! I love getting creative with action stuff! I barely ever think of how difficult they are to draw, I just get so excited and fixated on visualising the scenes in my mind I just keep at it, pull out refs and pose in front of mirrors until it looks good to me! I want to draw more action scenes but besides being challenging to draw my brain comes up with more silly and cute ideas than cool ones unfortunately ahah

One more WIP, here's the link to the final results!! I really like how genuine their expressions look here even if the faces are a little off. I recall spending a long time figuring out this perspective. I thought it would be fun to you to see how all these pieces started and... looking at the sketch above and the stuff before that, you can compare some range of my style!

RANDOM SUBMAS MISSILES GO

OHHH looks like some nasty passengers got the best of them!! If I recall correctly there was no fight because they managed to paralyse the two before they could act. Fully awake yet completely helpless... how convenient unfortunate. Thank you so much for checking these out!! Not every sketch is that exciting but I'm always happy to hear your thoughts on these!

Previous posts: Sketch dump Vol. 1: April-June 2022 Sketch dump Vol. 2: July 2022 Sketch dump Vol. 3: August 2022

[sugurusladyknightt]

➺ wolf!suguru x lamb!reader x serpent!satoru

the wolf!suguru and serpent!satoru brainworms are backkk :3

serpent!satoru wraps himself around you, holding you in his strong limbs, cool glistening scales press into your soft delicate skin, sure to be leaving little imprints for you to find later. his forked tongue peaks out from between pretty glossed lips as he sniffs around — you smell so sweet.

his pretty split tongue catches your attention, and like the naive little lamb you are disguised as, carefully, cautiously, curiously, you bring your fingers to it. holding the warm wet flesh of his tongue between your fingers, just feeling it, it's soft. satoru grins evilly; you're so trusting, so daring as you play with his tongue, putting your little fingers in the serpents mouth.

teasingly, satoru wraps his tongue around them, trapping your fingers in a tight hold. hugging them tightly with his tongue, until your eyes finally meet his like he's been hoping for. he releases them with a satisfied glint in his eyes as you move your fingers along the tender textured surface of it, inching closer to his glossed lips; he says nothing as you do.

you're entranced, fingers drag higher and higher along his tongue, drawing teasing shapes on the way (he thinks he recognizes them as characters that spell out your name but that could just be his mind playing silly tricks) you trace the shape of his sharp fangs, pressing ever so lightly against the sharp ends. it's not enough to break skin, not enough for any of his venom to seep into your veins, only enough for a little sting.

when you pull away to look him, pulled from your own world by that pleasant sting at your fingertip you find that serpent!satoru's eyes are already on you, looking thoroughly entertained by all this, perhaps a little bashful as well if you can look for it hard enough. a soft glowing pink at the tips of his ears, you aren't alone in enjoying this.

wolf!suguru is wearing a muzzle. you had insisted. his remarks he made the last time around having stuck with you a more than you could have anticipated. so there you are, little lamb back in the wolves lap with a flimsy contraption made of metal and leather restricting his jaw from opening in full (or rather that that's the intended purpose) your drum your fingers against his chest, playfully. teasingly.

his threatening teasing remarks land a lot softer with his jaw securely bound. your nails clink against the metal softly, the sound hitting your ears like your favourite song, there's a smug little smile on your lips and your eyes all too self satisfied as you look back into his. while still maintaining your gaze, you slip your two of your fingers through the small space between the metal bars of his muzzle, tracing over the shape of his soft lips. eyes fluttering down to watch.

you press the tips at the centre to pry them apart, your two fingers glide across the surface of his sharp teeth and along the inside of his lips. suguru's jaw is locked, not allowing you further access into his mouth. suguru's eyes follow each of your movements. waiting, patient. hoping to see how far you will take this.

you look up into his eyes, a little pout on your pretty lips, wordlessly pleading — he never says no when you do. loosening his jaw a little for you to slip into his mouth. you follow the curves of his teeth, and venture further into his warm mouth, pressing down against tongue. the wetness of it making your fingers slip further in he nearly gags.

although your movements are limited by the metal against his face, you do your best to reach further into his mouth. wanting to feel his throat tighten around your fingers once more, to see another line of drool escape his lips, to hear the little sound you would've never guessed would come from the wolf. straining your fingers against the metal, reaching, perhaps further than you should have had.

you're about to do it again when his teeth come down on your fingers, biting into the soft skin enough for only a few crimson droplets to land on his waiting tongue. you gasp at that (more in shock than pain) pulling them away quickly.suguru catch's you before you get far, holding your wrist in place, keeping your fingers on his lips and your body secured in his lap. the metal you strain your fingers against begins to burn and saliva drips from your palm like a thick nectar.

suguru licks the little blood still oozing from where he pieced your skin, kissing the little cut ever so gently feor good measure; soothing the dull burn of it. his eyes sharp and purple meet your now glossy meek gaze, the sight bringing that insatiable grin to his lips. some leather and metal won't protect you from him if he did wanna bite, you watch wolf!suguru as he tears it off his face, leaving nothing to intercept between the two of you yours eyes widening further, and oh the little lamb doesn't look so self satisfied now.

[hazbn-oneshots]

Bathtime Headcanons

Just a few headcanons for sharing a bubble bath with the main characters. Enjoy!

Charlie:

oddly enough Charlie doesn’t partake in full baths as much as she favors showers.

She’s busy dealing with the hotel and along with ruling as the Princess of Hell so she much prefers a quick warm spray.

On the occasion, however, she finds herself tired enough that you might just be able to convince her to indulge with you. 

You make a point of dredging up any kind of bubble bath, bath bomb, lotion, anything you can find to ensure that you can provide the best bubble bath possible.

Music plays softly over a small speaker, but it’s drowned out the hushed whispers of words of love as you meticulously wash and condition her hair.

Conditioning is your favorite step. Charlie didn’t need it often as her hair somehow stayed so silky, so every now and then when you got to run a soft brush through her hair, twisting it gently to pin atop her head.

She tries to wash you in return but you always push her hand away, insisting on pampering her after a hard day.

Usually ends with you drying her off and carrying her to bed when she inevitably passes out.

Vaggie:

Vaggie loves baths but she’s hard pressed to admit it. Nothing feels better on sore muscles than a nice soak, ideally with lavender. She loves lavender.

The two of you had been dating for about 6 months before she even entertained the idea of going to you with such a request. 

She was too embarrassed to ask.

-in the end, how she broaches the subject is by surprising you one night when you return home. A few candles lined the edge of the bathtub that was filled nearly to the brim with bubbles.

”I just thought it would be nice, you’ve been gone all day” And you know better to react calmly should you risk spooking the flustered angel with the scarlet red face.

She’s the one that drags it out in the end. She’d wrap her arms just a little tighter around your waist and mutter about how the water would stay warm for just a little longer.

Vaggie gives sweet towel hugs.

Alastor:

Listen, Alastor takes pride in his hygiene. He takes the utmost care to keep himself and his dress in immaculate condition. 

He’ll invest in facial creams, hair creams, body creams, oils, lotions, you name it and he’s used it. 

But baths? No. Absolutely not.

You’ve only attempted to convince Alastor to take a bath with you and neither occasion ended particularly well. The radio demon wouldn’t speak to you for a week after the first failed attempt and had all but removed himself from your life with the second so you couldn’t say you were in any hurry for a third.

However, the two of you have come to a happy compromise. Whenever you found yourself in the mood to draw a bath you would sometimes find Alastor pulling a chair up next to the tub with a book tucked under his arm. So would begin a lovely tradition between the both of you.

More than once you’ve found yourself dozing to the soft static of the Alastor’s voice, and in response the demon would lightly tap his cane against the edge of the tub to rouse you.

Don’t fall asleep though, three strikes and he’ll leave you in the tub. No he doesn’t.

Husk:

Not. A. Fan. Considering his entire being consists of fur and feathers, Husk can and will do everything within his power to avoid bathing if he can. Look, it’s just not his idea of a fun night to sit down with a hairdryer and attempt to wring himself out as best he can.

Inevitably he’d miss a spot and end up with stale wet cat smell and no one likes that, especially not our resident grump.

He won’t make a fuss if you want to bathe with him though. What he will do is laugh while patting your shoulder. “I’ll wait for ya in the room”

The more comfortable he gets, however, you’ll start to see that eventually Husk begins to find reasons just to ‘wander’ into the bathroom with you. He misses you, you know it, but it’s still sweet to see him making the excuse of looking for his lucky pair of boxers.

”The water’s always warm darlin”

You better get the blow dryer ready, the only way you can convince him is if you’ll deal with it. You don’t mind though, the purrs are worth it

Angel Dust:

You and Angel take turns picking which bath bombs and bubble baths that you’ll throw into whichever potion you’ll be brewing up tonight.

Bathtime with Angel was always a favorite for you, you couldn’t think of anything better than getting to curl up with your cuddle bug in your arms. Although things never really stay that way for long.

It’s hard not to tease while washing each other. A slip of the hand here, just a little rough touch of loofah there, just a sweet little taste of what could be but the restraint comes easy in the relaxed atmosphere. Just in times like these Angel will be patient enough to wait until you can actually make it to the bed. 

Angel won’t let you wash his hair. You don’t know why he’s so particular about it but if you interrupt his routine of products then his entire night is ruined so you choose the peaceful route and leave the man be. That doesn’t mean he won’t wash your hair for you if you ask though, those four hands of his do wonders at massaging the scalp.

Angel will 10/10 let you towel dry him every single time and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t use it as an opportunity to make a show at bending this way and that, making sure to get every inch of him.

He looks like a fluffy mess afterwards but hey, he’s your fluffy mess.

Requests open!!

[vetochkarowan]

🌿 Dear friends, there are only two episodes left of the comic (I’ll be taking a break tomorrow, and then… brace yourselves). I’d like to address the questions about a continuation.

The short answer: I don’t know.

The longer answer for the curious:

I really don’t know. I feel an enormous emptiness knowing that this project is ending (it’s hard to describe the emotional void I fall into every time I put a story at the end). It’s like finishing an amazing book or completing a game; you’re left wondering how to keep going and what to do with your time. Of course, I’m deeply attached to the characters and their story, and I don’t want it to end (and really, it hasn’t—they literally just hugged; this is just the beginning).

Naturally, I’d be interested in developing their relationship further—I even have some ideas for the main plot, and I feel inspired. But I’m completely out of energy. Drawing four pages a day is something only manga artists do during deadlines, surviving on energy drinks....

On the other hand, I’m a little (a lot) afraid that a continuation might not feel “right.” That without the rom-com intrigue of “will he confess?” the story might lose its spark—or maybe it’ll gain a new one. It’s hard to say in advance.

The only thing I know for sure is that any continuation must come from a place of love. Maybe I’ll have enough inspiration for a full-fledged sequel, or maybe just for a few special episodes. Whatever direction it takes, whatever the outcome, I am endlessly grateful to you for being here with me. 💛

“So this isn’t goodbye—it’s more of a ‘see you later, darling.’” 🦇

[bunnylove1]

-ˏˋ. Ren headcanons ˊˎ-

✎ᝰ. : I Do not own this character! These headcanons are just for fun and may not be what the creator headcanons for there character! Please keep that in mind !

✎ᝰ. : warnings! 18+ content ! 14 days with you is an 18+ game so is my account if you are underage please leave. This writing contains, smutty acts, fluff, and more ! Not proof read!! You have been warned.

→ : I have a feeling ren has a bunch of those cheap Chinese toys that you’d get from the dollar store in a bin in his room. Idk he just looks like he would

→ : Rens closet is like those two houses that are opposite from one another yk what I mean that black and pink houses yeah that’s his closet.

→ : they definitely have a thing for public sex. Like come on the living room scene … I mean that dudes freaky.

→ : Ren is a big guy he’s 6’5 I see him having too get a bunch of pants he thinks are cool tailored too his size cause if not his whole ankle is going too show.

→ : they definitely like too Color. But like adult coloring books with colored pencils.

→ : if you where too live with them he'd put all your “special plates/cups” aka the ones you use frequently, on the top shelf so you have too get his help.

→ : lets you paint their fingernails, Dude love seeing your face go bright when he says yes.

→ : I know this dude has a thing for seeing you in black and purple. Idk why purple but I just think he’d be all happy and complement you 24/7 if you did wear those colors. Especially if it’s alt fashion

→ : Ren just gives off the vibe that he wants too be called a good boy while he dominates you. Like Imagine their fucking you dumb and all of a sudden they go “call me a good boy please” in like a breathy voice GAH.

→ : Definitely loves it when his partner bites or marks him he likes showing it off. As much as he can

→ : that ring that he wears, yeah that one. That’s definitely gotta be your future weeding ring.

→ : he likes when you draw imaginary shapes on any part of their body. Doesn’t matter were they just like the feeling.

→ : The best at taking photos of you. The beach scene just says it all. They’ll take as many as they can too get the perfect photo for you. He’d do anything for their angel

→ : Halloween with Ren definitely wouldn’t be boring. They’d drop a hint saying that a new horror house opened up for Halloween and if they saw you were interested he’d take you there.

→ : the same thing with Halloween I 100% see them wanting too do an angel and devil matching costume with you.

→ : randomly buys you flowers and leaves them at your door with a letter saying something like “have a good day angel” or “these were just so pretty and thought you’d like them”

→ : would have those pink fluffy dice in his car.

→ : they’re those people too like anime figures and get a bunch of them and get a case too put them in.

→ : would get a tattoo of his partners name. (Bad ren don’t do that shit.)

→ : into bondage and cum play definitely. Like tying your hands behind your back and putting a blindfold on you that definitely gets him hot and hard. They’d love seeing you covered with his cum. Mostly would like it too be on your stomach or inside you.

→ : I know this freak has a thing for you in costumes (like a cop or a nurse) idk he just gives me the vibe that it would make him hard.

→ : likes the sound of you gagging on him. especially if you have drool slipping out your mouth.

→ : he’s a switch no doubt about it. I just think it depends all on you how you feel. If you a dom I know he’d sub for you and if you a sub he’d dom for you. Ren would do anything for you.

→ : try’s too match your breathing when your asleep.

→ : I feel like he hates fish. Like food wise.

→ : would get you a custom made biker helmet with cat ears or something on it for when you ride with him.

→ : randomly scares you. Like not like he means it just they walk so quietly that he’d randomly appear behind you and you wouldn’t even notice till you turn around

→ : likes too hug you from behind while you cook, maybe even sway his hips while he does it.

✎ᝰ. : I did it !! Took me forever cause I got overstimulated half way through. Which is why it got kinda short at the end because I was starting too lose motivation…

✎ᝰ. : I hope you liked this pumpkins !! Non of this is going too be 100% canon because it’s not mine, these are just for fun remember!

[determunition]

i took the switcheroo week as an excuse to finally try my hand at some scrybeswap designs! got a bit carried away as you can see, i love doing character design so much

decided to keep their species/major design elements fairly consistent (e.g. grimora's makeup, mag being vague and indistinct, leshy having nonhuman legs, p03 only having one arm) while still switching up their aesthetics as needed; super happy with all of these as a result!

design notes for each scrybe under the cut! def open to any further questions or curiosities, i always think way too hard about characters while designing them lmao

P03:

scrybe of the dead: i went for a possessed tv vibe; he's still mechanical but those bones do have a living soul trapped in them...also shoutout to @squid-hug for suggesting the x-ray machine, i was very tickled by that lmao

scrybe of beasts: overgrown old bot was kind of a given for this one, but i was also thinking that the plants are part of what's keeping him running somehow

scrybe of magicks: the magic eye is the core powering that top monitor, and the two side monitors display what he's seeing with that eye at any given time

grimora:

scrybe of beasts: she's a witch! like a chill terry pratchett kind of witch, she works with a lot of herbs and such; also her makeup is meant to mimic blood drops

scrybe of magicks: magick grimora is more of a warlock type, her magic is a lot more sinister and she almost never opens her eyes (whereas her third eye is basically always open)

scrybe of tech: tech grimora is kind of a wacky machinist-flavored dr. frankenstein; she inscribes by writing on circuitboards!

leshy:

scrybe of the dead: this leshy is a gargoyle/vampire hybrid! i thought a mirror would be fun for him bc you can get two different cultural refs; medusa (bc stone gargoyle), and the idea that vampires don't appear in mirrors!

scrybe of magicks: i decided to make him a bird guy (kinda harpy-esque) bc he's basically a more whimsical baba yaga hermit; the baba yaga thing carries over from slavic folklore obvs. also he has polycoria!

scrybe of tech: tech leshy was super fun, bc he's steampunk! rather than animal legs i gave him digitigrade robot legs, but other than that he's the most like, normal human guy here probably lmao; despite his well-adjusted appearance though i still think he's got a bit of freaky wonk in him

magnificus:

scrybe of the dead: this one was very ring-inspired lol, got those clump of hair you found in the shower drain vibes

scrybe of beasts: bush magnificus real! i think he'd be a bit more quirky trickster fae in this form

scrybe of tech: one of my favorites; tech mag is an emaciated cyborg draped in so many loose cords and wires that you can't tell what he looks like anymore. a lot of those cords are connected to him, and he plugs them in wherever as needed! he also has a drawing stylus, making him just an average art student tbh lmao

[bluessmutifyplaylist]

Separate Yandere Malleus (Hubby), Rook (Hubby), Leona (Lazy), Jamil (Babygirl), Azul (Babygirl), Jade (Menace), Floyd (Menace) and Sebek x Female!Tanjiro Reader SFW and NSFW please?

She’s kind, helpful and supportive, always willing to help others and she doesn’t expect anything in return? How cute (Naive), and after getting a taste of her kindness and care, he’s not going to let her go (And is now very territorial/protective of his soon-to-be wife/wifey)

Why can I see Floyd saying ‘Wifey’? (Rook would just make poems upon poems about how much he loves calling her his ‘Darling’ or ‘Wife’ and would violently tremble in joy if she just looks at him Top Tier Romantic/Stalker)

Sorry if that’s a lot, I’m a little knew to asking about Smut Requests (But I love my Twst Men so much, especially Malleus, Idia, Rook, Jamil and Azul, they just need hugs)

This is SMUT, and consensual, despite being Yandere.

Warnings: Yandere, Stockholm Syndrome(?), naive reader, creampie, breeding(?), unprotected sex, all characters are adults, sex with the intention of having children, slight dumbification, Malleus has 1 dick (sorry monsterfuckers), somnophilia in Malleus’s

Leona Kingscholar

You supported him even in his darkest moments, no matter if he was rude to you back. You were there, and the way you would take Cheka when he wasn’t feeling super great really had him appreciating you in a way that he never thought he could before. So, once you had graduated, he asked you if you would marry him.

Of course, this comes from a much darker place in him. He was never going to let you go, even if you refused him. Luckily for him, though, you were in tears as you accepted his proposal, happy to be marrying the love of your life. You were wed rather quickly, with it being a small ceremony, and it was the first time you had seen Leona cry because you just looked so beautiful walking down the aisle. That moment was one you would cherish forever. 

Now, your wedding night was a different story. With how hard he was thrusting up into you, making you see stars. You could feel his cock pounding your insides, and you were thanking every god in existence that you married this man. You were two orgasms in already, and you were approaching a third, while he still had his first to go.

“Look at you, my naive herbivore being fucked dumb.” Just hearing those words made you falter and stutter your movements, but it didn’t stop Leona. He was making you ride him through your orgasm, and you were so sensitive. He let out a groan as he came inside you, saying, “I’m not stopping until you are filled with my cubs, baby, so you better keep going.”

Azul Ashengrotto

He knew you were the one when he showed you his cecaelia form for the first time. Instead of being disgusted or even afraid, you used a gentle hand as you played with the tentacles that were pulling you closer and closer. Eventually, you found yourself face-to-face with the Housewarden, and you threw your arms around his neck as you pulled him into a kiss. He immediately reciprocated, and he laid claim to you that night.

Years later, you both were married, and he was a successful business owner. You were in the upper-middle class of the ocean, and you both were talking about starting a family. You were already his housewife, keeping the house clean because you both agreed on it (and because he didn’t want you going anywhere that he didn’t have control over). 

You weren’t about to complain, though, because he had you in the missionary position. It’s a bit basic, but fuck did it feel good. He was desperate; desperate to fill you up, desperate for you to feel pleasure, desperate to push himself to another climax despite the overstimulation. Your legs locked around him as he started releasing ropes of cum inside you, and you had the orgasm of your life.

“I love you, honey~” Your voice was strained after about two hours of moaning. He laid down next to you, and you laid your head on his chest. He started drawing patterns on your back, and he said I love you in return. You leaned up and gave him a kiss on the lips, and then trailed it down his chest… lower and lower, until round 2 was started.

Jade Leech

You were his the day you burst into Azul’s office and demanded that your friends be let go of their contracts. Hardly anybody would have that amount of confidence, and he found himself obsessed. He’s stalking you, he’s making sure his brother knows that you are his territory and his alone. You could always smell that he was there, as he didn’t know about your keen sense of smell. But, you didn’t mind it.

Years later, you both were married, and it was an interesting marriage. Your in-laws absolutely adored you, Floyd tolerated you, and Jade was still as obsessed with you as he was back in your NRC days. In fact, he wanted to give you a reason to stay forever, so he brought up the idea of having kids. You had many siblings back in your home world, which you never found a way back to, so it was understandable that you would want a big family yourself.

So, that’s how you got here, you being folded in half, your legs being pressed to your shoulders as he pounded you into oblivion. For the past 4 hours, you have been in every conceivable position you can think of, and this was going to be your final one. If you wanted a big family, that is exactly what you were going to get.

“Darling, how many kids do you want? Do you have an exact number? Or am I going to fuck you and keep you full of children until you say that you don’t want anymore?” Just the thought of having so many kids made you orgasm. You realized that you wanted to be with this man for the rest of your life, and you wanted to be surrounded by a family that the both of you created, and you were definitely going to enjoy the process to achieve your newfound dream.

Floyd Leech

He claimed you as his also the day you walked into Azul’s office, as no one ever had the courage, bravery, or stupidity to do it. When he went to squeeze you, you wound back enough to headbutt him, making him drop you. From that point on, you had become his new obsession. You were the only one who could beat him in a fight, so it was kind of obvious that this would happen.

As much as you Floyd simps would probably want to be married to him, he’s just not that big on marriage. He’s not that big on commitment in general. However, he knows that he’s committed to you because he wants you to be committed to him. Plus, any thoughts against marriage flew out the window when he saw you stretching and yawning.

Hours later, your neck was covered in bite marks, some a bit bloody, but he just licked it all away as his cock was buried inside your cunt. He had cum inside you about 2 times by now, and your muscles were sore from being contorted into a multitude of different positions. He had a newfound need to make you his little wifey who was stuffed with his kids 24/7.

It wasn’t until there was a bit of a bulge in your stomach from all the cum he had released when he pulled out of you. You were on the verge of unconsciousness, but you felt his arms wrap around you and pull you close. His body was warm, the final lull to sleep that you needed. It was a rare but sentimental Floyd, where he watched you, in such a vulnerable state… marriage is the best option to make sure you are his.

Jamil Viper

You were the first thing he could actually call ‘his’. He did not have to give you to Kalim, and he was never going to let that happen. In fact, during his overblot, he made his feelings known to you by keeping you at his side. However, you wanted your Jamil, not the one controlled and bound by the ink. After, in the infirmary, he asked if what you said still rang true, and that was where you had your first kiss.

Skip to years later, and you both were married. He still works for the Al-Asim family, but you couldn’t ask for a better husband. He has told you about his hesitancy towards having children of his own, as they would most likely serve the Al-Asim family as well. You understood, but you still wanted to have children with him. He told you that you could have one child for now, and see where it went from there.

Round 1 started right then and there, in your kitchen. He bent you over the counter, railing you from behind. Before, whenever you both would have sex, he would use protection. This time, though, he went in raw, and it was the first time ever that you both truly felt each other, and damn did it feel euphoric. You couldn’t even think anymore.

Of course, this was not exactly a fitting place if you were going to conceive your first child. So, he picked you up into his arms and carried you to your shared bedroom once you had your first orgasm of the night. There were many more to come (get it?) and you were barely getting started. You will not be able to walk for two days, and you will be walking out with hickies… mostly in between your thighs.

Rook Hunt

When he first discovered you, he immediately started stalking you. However, he wrote you sonnets, limericks, and poetry of other sorts for your eyes and ears. He sang your praises, and to lastly win over your heart, he serenaded you properly, under your window. You told him to wait there, and you ran downstairs and glomped him, making out with him on the ground. If it weren’t for his desire to make your first time special, you would have probably conceived a child right then and there.

However, he did wait until marriage… which was less than a year after you graduated. He had a steady income, and he already had a cottage in the forest in the Shaftlands. He always had a fantasy of a big family in a cottage, being a hunter and having his beloved wife by his side as an equal in the home. He cherished you, making sure that he provided for you in every way you needed. You became a housewife, as you would like to be there to take care of your children.

Speaking of, not a single night has passed since your wedding night where you haven’t fucked like rabbits. Sure, you both were still young, but you had been talking about this since you both were in NRC. You felt like you were ready to take on the challenge of rabbits. So, every night, you were filled with his cum. You were claimed as his, with all the hickies all over your body, with the sinful stretch his cock always seemed to give you… it was heaven in Twisted Wonderland.

It did not come as a surprise that you fell pregnant merely a few weeks after your wedding. The news made your beloved hunter so excited. Now, you could never leave him for your world. You had children that tied you to him. During your pregnancy, he is a devoted lover. He makes sure all your needs are met, and that includes the needs that are in the bedroom.

Malleus Draconia

You were his first friend outside of his retainers. You showed him kindness, and you were not scared of him at all. That alone made his draconic instincts want to kidnap you and keep you all to himself. However, he was able to hold off just a little, and you came to him on your own. The rose you had presented him with remains preserved, even years later, as it is a token of your love for him. He was a bit delulu, but aren’t we all?

It was a big request to ask you to marry him, as you would become the queen of a great nation of mostly fae folk. However, you were up to the challenge, and the people loved you. However, there was great pressure for an heir. Again, you were up to the challenge, but you discussed it with your husband first. You both concluded on a large family, so that the children wouldn’t grow up isolated (and totally not because Malleus wanted to see you round over and over again).

That night, all the staff had been advised to vacate the corridor in which your shared chambers resided, as you were not able to quiet yourself. You went a total of 8 rounds, one of which you were passed out for, but gave him the ‘okay’ to fuck you through that brief nap. Any chance of walking was out of the question. You could barely lift your head, and you had to be tended to by maidservants for a week. Unfortunately, Malleus couldn’t tend to you himself, as being the King meant that he was busy.

The entire realm rejoiced at the news of your pregnancy, and you had the world’s best doctors at your disposal. Everyone was concerned about making sure that the heir survived to take the throne, but they were also a tad worried about them being half-fae and half-human, as it meant that their lifespan would be shorter than a typical fae’s. Neither you nor your husband cared, however, as you were just happy to start a new chapter of your lives together.

Sebek Zigvolt

His pride denied him the pleasure of accepting his feelings for you in the first place, and he instead wrote anonymous poems for you that he would leave at your desk. You had no idea who it could be, so when someone claimed it was them, Sebek shouted that it was he who wrote the poems and not the plagiarist. He looked like he was about to fight the poor unfortunate soul, but you placed a kiss on his cheek, telling him that you accepted his feelings and not the other person’s.

About the topic of marriage… he would prioritize being a knight first. However, when he sees a time in his career, he will definitely get married to you. He enjoyed that he was in Briar Valley often and he just needed to train new recruits, and he would return home to you cooking dinner. As for children, the topic would blurt out of his mouth as you voiced your sadness about being lonely. You loved the idea, and as irresponsible as it was, the way you looked at him with newfound dreams in your eyes, he carried you to the bedroom and started right away.

You had discovered that Sebek had a hidden breeding kink, and he loved seeing your face as he came inside you over and over. The husband you thought you knew was giving into the primal instincts deep within him, and you were loving it. His fangs had made their mark all over your neck and shoulders, claiming you despite the ring on your finger showing you were taken.

The Zigvolt family, as well as Lilia, Silver, and King Malleus, were all excited when you announced your pregnancy. However, only the two of you would know what sinful things took place for this to happen. Know that this is not your only child, even if you don’t actually have another one. He wants at least two, and he is willing to adopt.

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Cat got your tongue (Percival de Rollo x Half Tabaxi!Reader)

synopsis: Percy liked to believe he wasn´t territorial or easily jealous, but something about seeing you with Vax makes his blood boil.

warnings: jealousy, marking, smut, afab reader

word count: 0.9k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall

A/N: Thank you @kawaiiangel906 for this request and I am so so sorry it took me so long to get to it. I hope you still enjoy. <3

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

Dividers by @saradika

Laughter sounded over the grounds of the keep from outside all the way into Percy's workshop. Not even concealed by the sounds of the white-haired man tinkering with a weapon. It wasn't like he had much concentration left for it at the moment anyway, but what little was left of it before fled faster than it had come to him. This had been going on for far too long in his more or less humble opinion. This thing between you and Vax’ildan. Not a thing, as you had reminded him countless times, fur covered ears twitching at the idea of it alone. Worries temporarily stifled with a sweet kiss to the forehead and a deep hug. Filled with whispered confessions of love.

Grumbling under his breath Percy makes his way out of the keep.

“Percy!” You immediately jump up and run towards him, a wide grin on your face.

Percy’s eyes lay on Vax for a moment longer, who sits left behind on the grass where you had just trained with him, looking right back at the two of you. When Percy's eyes snap back to you he can see your mouth moving. Had he really not heard you talking this entire time?

“I'm sorry, my love. Could you repeat yourself?” He asks  the back of his neck.

“I just told you about my training with Vax… Are you not feeling well?” Your eyebrows draw together tightly.

“N-No, it's nothing. I am quite alright. Thank you.” Percy takes a hasty step back to avoid your hand coming up to feel his temperature. “Perhaps too much time in the workshop. I am happy that the progress you and Vax’ildan are making is to your liking.”

“Come sit with us then. We were about to be finished for the day anyway.” Your hand caresses his cheek, the other taking him to pull him along.

Night has never been particularly calm amongst the group either. Most certainly not since you had obtained the keep. Laughter and the sounds of people drinking into the early morning hours traveled easily. But this night's rest was particularly hard to come by. It could. Your bones hurt from the extensive exercise each day and the fights in between. Just not with a certain someone distracting you from the sweet release of slipping off to slumberland by needy lips grazing over the skin of your shoulder blades and teeth nipping at the column of your neck.

“Percival…” You groan. “It is late.”

The words come out mumbled and somewhat unintelligible. Still you turn your head until you can see the white head of hair from the corners of your eyes. One heavy hand finding its way into the light tresses to play with them.

“You have barely spent any time with me or anyone that isn't Vax’ildan lately.” Comes the equally mumbled response against your back.

He doesn't stop what he is doing until you are awake again and turn around fully.

“Love…” You begin a sentence but are quickly shut up by the possessive grip pulling your waist impossibly close to his.

“Shhh. This will just serve as a reminder to the others that you are mine.” Percy's teeth nip right below your jawline. Sucking on the tender flesh until deep purple bruises bloom all over.

Pressed into the mattress by his lean hips, you writhe and mewl helplessly. Subconsciously, your own hips begin to grind up against his after a while. Unable to just take it anymore.

“More.” You plead in high pitched tones. No matter how much you try, your voice just won't stay down.

“Nuh uh uh. What's the magic word, dear?” Percy reprimands you with a smile on his face.

He can feel the movement of your hips as well and it is a game to him. He is fully in charge of you and your pleasure in this moment and he knows it just as well as you do.

“Please, Percy. I need more.” You try again with your tail wrapping tightly around Percy's middle to prevent him from possibly pulling away.

“See, that wasn't so hard. When you ask nicely people will be far more inclined to give you what you are asking for.” He slides down almost unnoticeably, pushing up your nightdress, until his chin rests against your sternum, just underneath the valley of your breasts. Scattering more purple spots over them and then wandering further down. A puff of warm breath bringing your legs together around his shoulders. With a chuckle and two fingers, Percy opens them up again.

“Now, let everyone hear who you belong to.” The words echo in your ear as only moments after, his length impaled you in one rough thrust.

A groan in unison fills the room, on one side from the sudden stretch and on the other, because in response your claws shot out and dug into his shoulders. The rhythm with which he starts thrusting into you as soon as he recovers, has you near screaming. Moans of his name and desperate pleas string together to a sort of prayer. The sweetest prayer Percy had ever heard in his life. Until he has driven you over the edge so often that your throat is sore and your body is a twitching mess. Brain so clouded in fog that you can barely concentrate on anything beside his body against yours.

As you lay beside each other, entirely spent, Percy's hand trailing over your side, a satisfied purring fills the room from your lungs. Not even strong enough to keep your eyes open any longer, you are finally granted the relief of sleep. Dreaming of only one man. The one right beside you, who at that moment felt you were his completely. Pressing one last kiss against the back of your neck as he drifted off to sleep as well.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fool's Game 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Loki Laufeyson

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Loki and Bugsy.

Summary: strangers on a train aren't as strange as they seem.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The train is crowded. That's not unexpected. There are few occasions in life that truly surprise Loki. That day is just a milquetoast as any other. All but one thing. One person.

He sits across from her. She never notices him. Her eyes do not leave the screen of her console. He's not one for the habit. The glare hurts his eyes and often triggers a migraine. No games, no phone but if absolutely necessary, and no distractions.

She's so oblivious he doesn't even need to hide behind the book. Well, it helps elude the curiosity of others who might notice his fleeting gaze.

The first time she sat across from him, he was not impressed. Irked would be more apt. She flew in like a storm and fell into the seat so hard she nearly bounced right out of it. He watched her charge fall from her bag, there, right by the polished toe of his shoe. At first he did not reach for it, yet when she took no heed, he gave in. His mother's voice would not quiet until he retrieved it.

The headset with the bunny ears kept her from hearing him. At least, he would accept only that as an excuse. He's a proper gentleman and she would not ignore him deliberately. He left it on the small lap table extended from her armrest as she did not see his efforts to get her attention. He wasn't going to try any harder.

That day, her brows draw together and her forehead lines. He can't see all of her but she lets out little breaths in her frustration. She squirms and plants her feet, as if that will help her in her game. She tilts the console this way and that then drops it to her lap. She huffs in defeat. He sees the image on her screen; two lethal red words: You Died.

His eyes slowly crawl up and meet hers. She blanches and quickly hides again. He does the same. The words are not legible as his mind races.

He does not lower the book again until he hears her puffing once more in her quest. He peeks at her. She has the wire of the headset between her lips as he rests her elbows on the armrests and hunches over. He can see her figure thrashing around but not much else as the colours on the screen are skewed. She jams her thumbs on the sticks and buttons then a flash and once more, the end screen. She pouts and throws herself back against the seat. She closes her eyes and doesn't move as a dark cloud swallows the image on the console.

The tension slowly eases and her mouth slants from one side to the other. She chews her cheeks and dips her chin down. She opens her eyes and holds down the button to shut off the system. She carefully zips it away in the fuzzy case and stuffs it into her larger bag. Another piece decorated with bunnies. They must be a favourite.

She brings the knapsack into her lap and hugs it. She looks out the window and her expression strains again. She doesn't dare look anywhere but outside, away from the people, away from him.

He supposes that's why he didn't take their first meeting personally. When she was asked coffee or tea by the lady with the cart, she couldn't speak. She merely shook her head with panic in her precious eyes. He knew then why she did not see him. Well, she needn't fear, he was not out to hurt her and he would make sure no other did as well.

🐇

He stands on the platform. Not far from her but not close enough to draw detection. It's an art being unseen but fortunately he's had a lifetime of practice. His brother, his sister, both always drew all the praise, all the purpose. He was just him. Just there.

She stands with shoulders slumped. She has her hood up. Her jacket also has floppy ears and the fleece looks more fit for a stuffed toy. She sways anxiously as she stands near the thick yellow caution line at the front.

The train whines down the tracks but she doesn't seem to notice. She's distracted but he can't tell by what. She's usually the first on but several pass her by before she reacts to the locomotive's arrival.

As she goes to step up, her toe hits the edge and she falls forward. He's moving before he can stop himself. He grabs her elbow and draws her to her feet as she sniffles.

She trembles and he squeezes before he thinks to let her go. She looks down at his long fingers but doesn't have the courage to look him in the face. She wipes her nose.

"Thank you," she murmurs and turns to climb up again, this time keeping her footing.

She's crying. He usually is annoyed by others showing such dire emotion. It's often misplaced. But not with her. His chest pangs. Something's happened. Someone's hurt her when he vowed that no one would.

He follows her up. She sits in 13a and he sits in 13c. Where they always do. She does not unzip her bag or take out her console. She picks at the edges of her nail beds and keeps her head down.

She gulps and her shoulders shake. His balls his fists. He wants to know the cad who's done this!

His heart races. He can't reveal himself. Not yet. Even if she is upset. She's not ready. No, he isn't. He hasn't thought of how.

Well, it's all a fool's dream. He's not serious, is he? She's just a stranger. Even if he knows her name. And where she lives. And where she works. That's all happenstance. It's not anything much deeper than that.

She leans into the window, embracing the bag like a dear friend. He can't see under her slouching hood. The food cart rolls around. He's about to wave the woman on then thinks better of it. The evening train is usually much sparser. He pays for a shortbread cookie. He takes it and turns it in his hands so the wrapper crinkles. She doesn't move.

He leans forward slowly, gauging her reaction. She still doesn't shift an inch. Closer and closer. He tucks the cookie into the front pocket of her bag. Still not a single flinch. She won't know until later but he hope it can bring her the comfort he's too shy to offer. He'll sort it out eventually. Just not today.