#Eyes on tongue

[sylvs0l]

“You’d turn on me after all we’ve been through?”

[dontblametheghost]

blep

[ash-and-starlight]

humble contribution

[beebeedibapbeediboop]

👁️👅👁️

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I know those eyes.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[unrelatedsideblog]

bleping doodles idk

[odddogs]

HIS PETFINDER PAGE CAME WITH IT’S OWN FANART

(SOURCE)

[samipekoe]

I NEED them

[themapisonfire]

the 𐤐𐤏 drawing yesterday didn't feel right, so I made another.

[syoddeye]

thinking about going out to trivia with your friends and immediately beefing with the table of nitwits across the bar.

drunk men who look too pleased with themselves after you and your friends vocalize your disgust with their team name—the secret cervix.

god, and that fucking bastard in the baseball cap thinks he's so smart just because he named more countries that start with 'm' than you. (he named 20, you named 19. you insist he got lucky with monaco.)

he's the worst of the four and proves it through the night. you go toe-to-toe over football. redacted album covers. celebrities and their astrological signs. your teams end up tying and end up at the mic with the host for the tie-breaker question.

he introduces himself—kyle—and asks if you want to make it interesting. you're not one to back down.

"name your terms."

"if i win, i get three minutes alone with you."

"three minutes? that all the time you normally need?"

"oh babe, we can knock it down to a minute. 'cause that's all i'll need to convince you to come back to mine."

you consider it. he is good-looking. he's smug and tipsy, but handsome. "if you make it that far, we'll go to mine."

"and if you win?"

"buy our drinks for the rest of the night."

"no afters?"

you shrug and extend a hand. he shakes on it with a smile that suggests he's puzzling you out.

the host clears their throat and pitches the tie-breaker question.

"what is the origin of the word 'sniper'?"

your eyes widen at kyle's expression. a big grin slowly lights up his face. that's when his friend with the mohawk nonchalantly raises his arm, flashing a SAS tattoo. 

fuck.

[wyervan]

hi I'm crazy. if you're still taking requests ☝️ the image of your moon being kind of a freak about human blood crawled in tk my subconscious at work

hi crazy. im kooky 😵‍💫. i just spent the last 24 hours thinking about this

comic below the cut. content warning for blood and … probably suggestive 🫠…

i can’t believe i did this on a sunday… the lord’s day…

[skumhuu]

🌈🔱 Leviathantale Fresh Sans 🔱🌈

[theeroticlover]

Ohmmm !!!! Babe 😘 your tongue makes me thirsty....

[karvviie]

somebody on instragram told me to draw um. errrm. uh. well. uh. um. uh… uh. well uh

[originally posted august 2022]

[murdrdocs]

WANNA RIDE STILES WHILE I WEAR HIS LACROSSE JERSEY MHM YEAH

WHYYYY WOULD U SAY THIS TO ME

just thinking abt like ... the way stiles would go absolutely feral. like he would go slightly insane. mouth open, lips still glistening from the messy kiss you'd shared with him a few moments prior, but his face has been frozen like this ever since he'd walked into his room to see you laid on his bed, wearing nothing but his lacrosse jersey, scrolling through your phone like it's the most casual thing that's ever happened.

the only thing that's changed is his eyes, consistently roaming over your body, flicking between your face which is scrunched up in pleasure, and your chest that he's forced out of the jersey, the material lifted up on one side, bunched over your shoulder. he's watching you through lidded eyes, similar to when he's tired, that same scrunch between his eyebrows, too.

his hands roam over your body, taking in as much as he can. calloused palms against the soft skin of your torso, running along your back, sliding down to your hips and around to press along your lower abdomen, making their way down to your cunt where he flattens his thumb along your clit, lifting the hood to gain better access.

he can't get enough, wanting more, wanting to do this again even when it's still happening in front of his face. he's trying to commit this to memory, he realizes when he's giving you possibly the hundredth full-body scan of the night. from your messy hair down to where you repeatedly sink yourself onto his cock.

his eyes get stuck there for a bit, not breaking away until he hears your breathless giggle.

"fillin' me up so well, stiles," you tell him, voice sounding pretty like it always does when you're like this.

the sweet sound of you – both your words and your cunt squelching around him – breaks him out of his stupor. he licks his lips, runs his thumbs along your skin, head spinning when you mewl as he rubs slow circles along your clit.

"yeah?" he asks you, even though he knows you're telling the truth, he can feel it. but he likes to see your almost pained nod, it fills his chest with pride, bolsters his ego. "feels good, honey?" another nod from you that makes him smile.

"'s that why you put that on? knew it would get you here?" his hands slide to your hips, his heels digging into the mattress as he slams up into you once, repeating the action at the sound you make. you don't answer him, it's not like you could, the breath taken from you just like the control was.

"hm? is that why you put my jersey on, laid in my bed in nothing else, waiting for me to get home." your hands press into his chest, fingers curling and your nails start to scratch at his skin. he takes a second, head tilting, eyes blinking innocently as he looks at you.

"that's kinda slutty, don't you think?''

[weirdgirlwithweirdtaste]

TITS OUT = BRAIN OFF + EYES ROLLED BACK + TONGUE OUT

This is the only math good girls are allowed to know.