#thank u for this ask anon

[pantherloid]

I want to see him bite someone

let len go feral 😌

Oh my god len chomping someone sounds fun.

[dmsr-art]

Please I need to see muzzled Alecto oh my god, I’m never gonna stop thinking about your tags for her and Harrow

enjoy :3

[choccy-milky]

Pls I beg Clora wearing only Seb’s shirt

she just can't wear it if she plans on getting anything done😇

[ontosgold]

ryomina.

RYOMINA !!!!! 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

[emry-stars-art]

Just wanna say thank you for drawing Andrew the way you do. I am built almost the exact same way as he is (5 nothing athlete) and seeing his body the way you draw it looks just like me! I never see people do that, and it gets me a lil insecure sometimes lol. But Andrew ain’t some skinny stick!! He gotta have abs to whip that goalie stick around!! He gotta be thicc!!!

thank you for drawing him with a realistic body 🥹❤️❤️❤️

Every time I get an ask about beefy Andrew I only get stronger. Not as strong as Andrew but stronger

(Anyway I drew this bc of @the-greater-grief ‘s comments on my post (this one) based on @02511213942 ‘s post (this one) for “best friend’s brother” Andrew lol. Sorry I didn’t get Neil’s reaction but we can all imagine it 🙏)

[tojisun]

thinking about biker! simon going out with his girl and the other guys at a biker bar. reader hasn't really seen how scared people are of simon - who they all call ghost - until she goes to get him another drink. while she's at the bar, a guy comes over trying to hit on her. then this hulking, 6'4 guy in a skull mask appears and the guy is ready to run out of the bar. simon didn't even have to talk just glare. while readers like ???

ITS BEEN YEARS SINCE THIS WAS SENT IM SORRY FOR JUST REPLYING NOW :(( BUT YES ABSOLUTELY YES!! my stomach swooped when i saw this hhhhh im actually kicking my legs n twirling my hair n everythingg!!

naturally, im bad at making drabbles because this turned out long again :’) im sorry

biker!simon mlist // star divider by @/plutism <33

simon’s hand is warm on the small of your back as he leads you further into the bar. you shuffle along his languid steps, head swivelling as you try to find familiar faces in the crowd – so far, none yet.

simon chuckles from beside you, and you peer up at him only to see his eyes crinkled from underneath his balaclava, no doubt smiling at you. he bows his head closer towards yours, trying, in vain, to devour as much of the space made by the height difference between you two.

“what?”

“nothin’, sweet girl.” he presses his covered lips on the top of your head, breathing you in. “come on, i see ‘em.”

he shifts the two of you, the hand that’s settled on the small of your back gliding until it hooks around your waist, pulling you ever so closer to him. protective. possessive. it makes you hum in delight, happiness thrumming underneath your skin.

(you don’t notice the way many people shift to get out of simon’s way; heads downturned as though afraid of even meeting his eyes. you don’t notice the way they turn to each other when you two passed by, as though making sure that it was simon they saw. simon – ghost – with a sweet darling pressed to his side, his bulk warding away stray gazes. you don’t notice the way they huddle with each other, whispering promises that ghost’s girl should always be protected. because yes they fear ghost, but more than that, loyalty to each other is stronger.)

he leads you towards a small pack by the far side, the table doused less in light than the rest of the bar. johnny’s already turned towards you and simon, watching with a grin as you two make it across. kyle’s seated beside him, the younger man leaned to watch the ongoing hockey game. then you see the back of john’s familiar head, his beloved boonie slung around his neck.

“finally made it, huh lass?” johnny says in greeting, snagging the attention of both kyle and john, the two of them chiming in their own hello’s. you smile, waving at them as you claim the empty seat between simon and john.

“had to make a quick stop at 7-11,” simon responds, his hand curling at one of the legs of your chair before pulling you towards him. the metal squeaks against the tiles, the sound thankfully drowned out by the loud bass.

“oh did you?” john asks, ignoring whatever simon did given how they’re all so used to his soft displays of possessiveness. he offers you a smile when you turn to him with a nod.

“had to buy, um, medicine for my stomachache.”

it’s endearing how their faces shift so fast, little smiles falling as worry takes over. even simon, whose hand is draped on your thigh, tenses, gripping as though he was remembering how he heard your pained whimper or saw you sniffling as the ache echoed, throbbing just below your ribs, choking you up.

“are you feeling any better? did it subside now, at least?” kyle asks.

you nod, quick to reassure them. “the medicine worked! i’m feelin’ better, i promise!”

they relax, tensed shoulders going lax as life flutters back into the table. you smile before sinking ever so closer to simon’s side, shying away from the intensity of their affections for you – your own little band of brotherhood, visceral in the way they care for you.

simon’s grip loosens on your thigh, choosing instead to massage the muscle tenderly. you hum, turning to ask him what he’s getting.

“whiskey, maybe,” he murmurs, his voice muffled by his mask. “you getting your bellini today, love?”

“yes please,” you reply, blinking up at him.

his eyes crinkle again, a telltale sign of his smile, before he pats your thigh and gets up to place the order.

you turn to the group, tuning into johnny’s rambling, listening to him recounting his rally. it was the one you weren’t able to go to because of work, johnny having to reassure you multiple times (even through text) that it’s fine that you’re missing it. so you listened, enraptured, nose scrunching in confusion whenever johnny slips into heavy scottish in his excitement.

“english, mactavish,” simon sighs as he falls back to his seat, startling you. you see johnny flip him off and you make eye contact with kyle, sharing twin looks of exasperation.

simon slides you your bellini and you whisper a thanks, trilling when he noses the top of your head again – your clingy boy.

the conversation rises and falls, sometimes leaving your mind wandering when they start talking about shop, sometimes catching your attention so much that you find yourself leaning on the table, breathless and wide-eyed as you listen to their bike stories – johnny had continued about his rally, kyle talked about the repairs he did for a client who he’s sure is on the run, and john shared that horrifying experience he had on his way home where he thinks he saw a floating woman by the east side highway.

“your turn, big guy,” you say, tapping simon’s knee.

simon finishes his whiskey – his balaclava tugged just enough to show his chin and his lips – before plopping the empty glass on the table with a sigh. you huff a fond laugh, knowing that one glass isn’t enough to satiate the thirst so you dust imaginary dirt off your skirt before standing up.

he tilts his head up in question, arm still hooked around your waist.

“gonna grab us more drinks,” you say. “oh, tell ‘em about the gas station incident!”

he grunts, nodding, and yet he refuses to budge. you fondly roll your eyes and turn to the others. “drinks?”

they all shake their head, johnny specifically saying he’d have to order for himself because he’d want to try the house specialties. you nod, pinching simon’s arm as you dance away from him with a bitten grin, before making your way to the bar.

you prattle away your order, telling the bartender to add the tab to your table, and hover, swaying to the music. it’s a foreign rock band playing, the bass and drums reverberating loudly, you can feel the vibrations pulsing along your body, and you almost get lost in your own thoughts when a hand slides to your back.

you startle, mind quickly cataloguing that this isn’t simon. because simon, for all his impressive silence and his displays of possessiveness, never sneaks up on you like this. he has never let you doubt your safety while with him. so you back away from the stranger’s touch, your hands pressed close to your chest before finally turning to see who went up to you.

the man, who seems to be about your age, smiles upon seeing your face. “hey there, angel.”

the pet name makes you nauseous and your stomach churns once again. you have to ask for the medicine from simon when you return to the table.

“hi,” you squeak, not letting him off your sight.

“you seem new here. i am too.” he laughs, scratching his neck. then, “it really ain’t my scene.”

“uh-huh,” you say, not knowing what else to tell him.

his chuckles peter out, a suave smile replacing what had been an awkward display of forced laughter. he clears his throat. “so, what’s a sweet thing like you doing alone here?”

“she ain’t alone, kid,” the bartender answers for you and you turn to him, surprised, before thanking him as he presents you with your whiskey and bellini.

the bartender nods to you in reply before crossing his arms in front of his chest and addresses the stranger again. “go bother someone else.”

the man arches a brow in question, his lips pursing in distaste. “oh yeah? she seems pretty available to me.”

the phrase hits you badly.

your anxiousness bleeds away to make room for your ire and you snarl, dropping your hands from where they’re pressed on your chest to rest them on your hips.

“what did you just say?” you ask, your voice a measured anger. “i’m fucking what now?”

he raises his hands up like he’s pacifying you. “hey, hey. didn’t mean that, my pretty girl-”

“she’s not your anything, you mad wanker.”

the sound of simon’s voice makes you settle, a wave of safety and comfort washing over you, dousing the angry churning in the pit in your stomach. simon steps from behind the stranger, towering over him, before moving to stand beside you. his hand hovers, questioning, and you give him a soft nod that gets simon pulling you close to him. his hand falls to the small of your back, caressing, and you wonder if he knows that the man had grazed his hand there just minutes ago. if simon’s doing this to overwrite the unpleasant feeling that was sticking to you.

“oh,” the stranger breathes out and you notice the way his hands are trembling, the tight balls of his fists turning his knuckles white. “i, uh, i’m sorry, ghost.” then he’s off, running out of the bar with his tail tucked between his legs.

you huff at the realization that the mad man didn’t even apologize to you. what a fucking prick.

“you doin’ alright there, baby?” simon asks, pulling you to him. he settles on an empty bar stool – you are sure those were filled just minutes ago… – and tugs you so that you are standing between his legs.

he cups your cheeks, thumbs tracing lines just underneath your eyes, and it makes you drag a shaky inhale.

“i’m sorry, sweetheart. i should’ve accompanied you.” simon sounds distressed, his eyes furrowed in the intensity of his worry.

you coo at him, it’s your turn to cup his jaw this time. “i’m alright, si. i promise.”

he shifts his eyes between yours, searching for anything besides the truth, and he folds himself into you when he sees that you mean it. you laugh, patting at his head, wishing that he doesn’t have his balaclava so you can play with his hair, before turning to the bartender who, in the sudden absence of customers by the counter, is watching you two with a pinched smile.

“thank you again,” you tell him and he grunts, nodding. simon straightens up and groans as he stands, his big body unaccustomed to the tiny bar stools.

“yeah,” he says, addressing the bartender. “thanks for bein’ here for my girl, alex.”

the bartender – alex – just waves his hand around in dismissal. “it’s nothin’, really. now go away, i want customers.”

simon and alex laugh, sharing an inside joke, and you swivel your head around in confusion because now that alex had mentioned it, where did everyone go? and why are they all huddled together, far from the bar?

simon closes his hand on your wrist and pulls. you barely manage a goodbye to alex who waves at you in reply.

…alex?

“wait. that’s alex?”

best believe that simon has connections anywhere he goes. if not for himself, it’s for his girl!!!

me, shamefully staring at the word count (1.8k) of what should’ve been a drabble: well now…

[rombitzy]

catoru!!

[disgustinggf]

massive slut but ONLY for my person

[jackshiccup]

Omg, you bound a fanfic? Can we see the finished project? It must be beautiful!

hello hehe yes i did :) i was only going to show friends but i guess this is a good excuse to post pictures of it 🫶🏽

it’s my first ever hardcover bind so i was prepared to make a lot of silly little mistakes and this one definitely does, but i love how it turned out still, i think she’s so cute .. i’m also just happy to finish a personal project that took up so much time to make 🥹

anyways, enjoy the pics and most importantly: stream otnwas on ao3 and youtube teehee🤞🏽❄️!

[yikesb3rg]

sorta based on those johnshi hcs i've been seeing around but consider amongst the ticklish skin and snort giggles kenshi finds slightly squishy parts around cage's belly n waist hggouggb defends himself like HEY!! i- i been outta work for a little okay! actually embarrassed and i know kenshi is v proud of his findings, one after another. ticklish "love handles" i froth i love making johnny get awkward and embarrassed for once, can't take what he dishes out!

i was going to add dialogue um... but i'm not a good writer so you can imagine what they're talking about here lol

[mblue-art]

Blue art best art! Honestly, I love coming back to your blog specifically when I need a soft huggable sans. They're the best and also your artstyle is a balm on a bad day. Have a flower, fren 💐💜

🥺 awe,, thank youuu <(⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠´⁠꒳⁠`⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠)ﾉ⁠♡

doodles u ccino (specifically @monster-kind's latte !)

[chick-it-out]

[ryngtail]

sshhhh theyre having fun

[temeyes]

Hey! I love your style ☺️ Can you draw Alex? if that's okay. It could be anything really. Thank you 🫶🏻

ok!!!

[scarletlizzard]

thinking abt older sisters bsf! nat 🤭

your sister being wanda, and nat is obviously her best friend. wanda is always protective with you but since you both grew up with nat she could easily slip through the gaps.

her and wanda would always come home as a pair when they did, you chose to live with your parents while you attendees a smaller local college.

the first time natasha fucked you she snuck off away from wanda while she was sleeping, she’d find you still awake probably studying. she begged you to stop for a bit and come hangout with her.

you two would be cuddled up in your bed watching something, her hand would slowly roam your body.

you’d share a small kiss that would lead to her fucking you into your mattress. 🤭🤭🤭

every time wanda and your parents would go out to do something, natasha would make up some excuse not to go and she’d stay and fuck you the whole time they were gone.

ugh i love this so much 😵‍💫😵‍💫

Oh okay so this is what we're rocking with today? Cause yeah anon, you've hooked me!! 😌😳

A few thoughts on that if I may ✍️

The first time she snuck in your room, she convinced you to watch a movie with her. It started out innocently at first. After all, this was something you would regularly do, but usually not with just the two of you. As you watched the screen, her hand rested on your thigh, caressing the skin. It would inch up closer, painfully slow, and you couldn't deny the ache in your lower stomach building. Your thighs pressed together tightly.

"What's the matter sweetheart?"

With a smirk on her lips, forcing you to tell her how bad you needed her. How you wanted her to make you feel good. She kissed you softly at first, savoring the way your lips tasted, wanting to relish the feeling of your first kiss. Natasha would waste no time after that, knowing at any moment the two of you could be caught.

"You're taking me so well, fuck, this pussy was made for me."

"Shh, sweetheart, you have to be quiet. Don't want to wake anybody up, do you?"

"I know you love it.. the idea that someone could walk in right now and see you being fucked like a slut."

"That's it, baby, that's it. Give me everything. Shh, just one more, one more time."

The two of you spent the night tangled in your sheets, Natasha drawing out orgasm after orgasm from you. She left you a whining, whimpering mess, to the point you couldn't even speak.

She cuddled you until you fell asleep, but when you awoke, she was gone. You went slowly down the stairs, seeing your sister and her best friend eating breakfast at the table. You sat next to Wanda, trying to act as if nothing had happened.

After that night, she spent every minute she could in your presence, coming up with every excuse she could think of to stay home with you. The second the car rolled out of the driveway, she would be on top of you, her hands slipping into your panties wherever you were. She would fuck you for as long as she could whether it be ten minutes or two hours.

One evening, she had you on the couch, enjoying the squirming mess that you were underneath her. Your moans filled the room, along with the sinful sounds of her fucking you.

"That's it pretty girl, just like that. Let me hear those pretty moans."

Because any time you were alone, she wanted to hear those broken cries of pleasure, your name leaving your soft pink lips. But as you moaned her name, the familiar sound of the front door unlocking sent a shock of panic through your both your minds.

The two of you tried to part as quickly as possible, but as Wanda walked in, she could see what she had interrupted. The bag she held dropped, and anger was written on her face as she took in the sight before her: the two of you panting, breathlessly. Natasha was still pulling her shirt over her head while you attempted to put on your sweatpants. Both of you had red and puffy lips. A purple bruise was still fresh on your neck, and your hair was wild.

Wanda looked to you and the to Natasha, her fists clenching at her side as she stepped further into the living room.

"What the fu-"

[tojisun]

sun!! i hope you’re doing well sweetheart <3

i’m on my period and feeling miserable :( i’m just imagining biker!simon and his big warm hands massaging my lower back and being my personal heating pad

i feel like he’d be so doting and sweet…and i just know his cuddles are IMMACULATE

my goodness my beloved im sorry for how late my reply to this is!! i hope ur feeling a whole lot better today :(( and that u were able to rest well hhhhh

no ur right!!! big man like simon gives out good hugs!! just, warm and comforting over all <33 // biker!simon mlist

simon leaves as soon as he can, your message still bright in his mind – im dying lol.

“Not on my watch,” is what simon replied, trying to be playful if only to distract you from your pain.

he says his goodbyes to his friends, waves at john who tells him he’ll close up the shop and that simon doesn’t have to worry about it, before walking towards the parking lot. he snags his helmet, snaps it on, and hefts himself on top of his bike.

he traces the initials engraved on his gloves before bringing up his hand to the mouth of his helmet and presses it in lieu of a kiss. then he’s off, the purr of his engine smooth as he whips against the wind.

simon’s left you on his bed today, bundled up in his sweater and underneath the blankets. you’ve been teary-eyed as you bid him goodbye, trying to assure him that your period’s not kicking your ass.

“just go, si,” you said, huffing when simon continued to stand by the edge of the bed, hesitating.

“i don’t wanna leave you when y’r like this, sweetheart,” he replied, bending down just enough to cup your cheek, his thumb swiping just underneath your eye.

“you can’t just skip work, y’know?”

“if it’s for you, i can.”

it wasn’t a lie – you two knew this – but you insisted, giggling, and told him to just remember to bring snacks when he returns home. he kissed you goodbye and drove off.

simon didn’t forget his promise, of course. his bag’s full of chocolates and cookies and a pack of electrolyte drinks. he knew the medicine cabinet was stocked but simon got extra pain medications – for cramping and nausea – in case you needed more.

johnny had seen simon’s grocery bag and asked that simon tell you that johnny’s wishing you to get well soon. then, kyle and john overheard and they gave simon the extra ladyfingers stored in the break room.

simon parks his bike and almost stumbles on his feet when he lurched out of his bike. he speeds through the stairs, thundering footsteps echoing, before tearing through the fire escape door.

he fumbles for his keys, steps into his apartment, and has just enough coherence to remember to toe his shoes off, place his helmet on the counter, snag his gloves off, and wash his hands. then, simon’s back in his room. back where you are.

you’re still buried underneath his quilt, curled into yourself. simon would have cooed at how little space you are taking up on his bed but he hears you whine, exhausted face peeking out of the quilt, before weary eyes meet his own.

“i’m home, sweetheart,” he breathes out, watching as your face breaks out into a smile.

“hey there, baby,” you reply, shuffling until he sees you lift a corner of the sheets for him to crawl in.

simon doesn’t even care that he’s still in his work clothes, not when your pretty eyes are pleading him to slip in and finally cuddle with you. so he drops his bag and takes his jacket off, before slipping underneath the quilt and sliding beside you.

you’re blinking up at him as he settles in, your warm palms reaching up to caress his cool face. he hears the faint hum that rumbles from your throat and simon huffs a fond laugh at the small smile tickling your lips.

“how do you want me, love?” he asks, his own hands claiming their rightful place by your waist. he rubs at your sides the way he knows you want – smooth glides with just enough pressure, grounding you into him.

“spoonin’,” you whisper, sniffing, before turning away from him with your mind made up.

simon laughs, pressing the quiet puffs of it on the back of your head as you shimmy towards him, pressing your back to his chest, before falling putty with a quiet sigh. he loops his arm around your waist, the heavy weight of his palm falling just underneath your belly.

“lift y’r head up a bit,” simon murmurs, humming when he slots his other arm under your head for you to use as a pillow. “good girl,” he murmurs as you fall back into him.

simon fixes the sheets as you shuffle closer again, nuzzling your face onto his arm with a pleased grumble, and he barks a laugh at your sudden sneeze.

“shit, sorry,” you croak out, hiding your face behind your palms.

simon laughs. “don’t be, sweetheart.” he kisses the back of your head again. “feelin’ better?”

“a bit,” you reply, and simon trembles when he feels your fingers glide along his arm. “now that you’re here.”

jesus. you sure know how to make him ache with the weight of his love, huh sweetheart?

IT GOT TOO LONG IM SORRY!! but yea :(( i hope u are feeling better luv <333