#fast DIRTY rough sketch

[neon-tigre95]

ad victoriam or whatever

[honeekyuu]

talk too much. [suna rintarou x reader]

eight. stick hand

previous || masterlist || next

a/n. SUNA RINTAROU POV FOR THE FUCKING WIN

warnings: swearing, a LOT of kms jokes

✗ !!! minors do not interact !!! ✗

✗ !!! ignore timestamps !!! ✗

Rintarou stares down at his phone, bouncing his knee anxiously while he chews on his lip. You’d gone offline four minutes ago, asking him to give you ‘just a second’. He doesn’t know what that means, and it scares him. 

He’s sitting in the kitchen of his tiny studio apartment, charcoal sticks scattered haphazardly on the table in front of him and several sheets of sketch paper trapped under his elbows while he glares nervously down at his phone. His skin is dusted with black carbon, and the rough sketches of you – the way he sees you in his memory, in the space behind his eyes that drifts often to you throughout the day – stare up at him from the paper.

He’s worried he’s crossed a line. He’d been a little rash, frustrated with the way you’d spoken about yourself, the way you’d avoided speaking about yourself. He’d just wanted you to see. To understand that he means what he says and he’s never once spoken without meaning. That when he calls you beautiful, what he really means is that every picture you send makes him want to bury his face in his hands and scream – because he’s overwhelmed with the need to touch you and hold you. To know you, to be in your space and in your way, because you make him feel nervous in ways he’s never felt before.

“Fuck,” he sighs, running dirty fingers through his bangs and pushing them out of his face. The time ticks past another minute, and regret forms a pit in his stomach. His knee bounces with increased irritation. He must have fucked up.

And then you call.

His phone lights up in his hand, screen flashing with ‘Incoming call from Pretty Girl’. 

“Oh, shit-” Rintarou drops his phone on the table, standing quickly and stumbling over the legs of the chair as he backs away.

He’s never spoken to you on the phone before. He’s sent the occasional voice note, and he’s heard your voice in the same way, but it’s never been this. He’s too scared to do it like this.

He shouldn’t be – he’s never been as comfortable around someone as he is around you. He’s been begging to see you, to meet you. He’d even called you, too, just a few days ago when you’d sent him the pictures of yourself. But he’d done it without thinking, too busy freaking out over the development in his friendship with you to even consider that talking on the phone – hearing your voice – might be too much for him.

He’s scared to fall for you. Scared because he already has. He doesn’t know how to be good for you, how to be someone you can trust with anything. You still fight to accept the things he says to you, and he worries sometimes that it’s because he’s not good enough at convincing you. At showing you that you’re all he wants. 

He’s scared that he’s falling too fast, that he’s going to fall alone. That it’s too early to think that you’re perfect – because he knows that you’re flawed, but God, he thinks you might just be perfect for him. But he’d be insane to give into that thought. It’s only been six weeks.

It’s only been six weeks, and he’s completely hopeless.

He doesn’t know if he can answer your call.

It goes to voicemail. He regrets not answering it.

You text.

‘please pick up, suna’

He’d do anything you say.

Hopeless.

His phone flashes with the incoming call again. He picks it up with a shaky breath and presses it to his ear.

“Hello?” His voice sounds gravelly in his own ears, rough with underuse after spending all day home alone. There’s quiet on the other end, quiet that lasts long enough to make his stomach twist. “Y/n?” 

“Hi,” you breathe. “Hi, Suna.”

Falling in love is painful, he thinks.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he whispers, entirely alone in his apartment. Entirely incapable of speaking any louder than this. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Walking to my next class,” you say, and Rintarou hears the splash of cars passing in the background. 

“Still raining?”

“Pouring.”

He swallows. “You didn’t have to call. I don’t want to interrupt your day.”

Another pause. His stomach turns and flips anxiously. He runs his fingers through his bangs again and chews on his lip.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

He breathes out a laugh, the air shaky as it leaves his lungs. “In that case, I’m perfectly happy to interrupt your day.” When you laugh, soft and gentle in his ear, he takes a very firm seat on his couch, knees close to giving out. “God, you have a pretty laugh. That’s no fair.”

“You’re so stupid, Suna.” 

“Yeah,” he says, propping his elbows up on his knees and smiling down at nothing. “You kind of have that effect on me.”

“Did you really draw those for me?” you ask, and he hears the quiet beep of the crosswalk behind you. 

“Got the charcoal fingers to prove it,” he says, smile widening when you laugh breathily.

“They were really pretty.”

“That’s because you’re really pretty.”

You inhale sharply. He waits for you to reject his words.

“You really think that?”

His heart surges with hope, and he clings to it. “With every fiber of my being, Y/n. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” You swallow audibly and make a sound like you’re going to deflect the compliment, but he doesn’t let you. He pushes, because he doesn’t know when he’ll get this chance again. One where you might just hear him. “You’re so pretty it makes me nervous. I’m literally nauseous right now. I’m almost terrified to meet you in person – that’s how pretty you are.”

“No one’s ever thought that before.”

“I think that,” he says, urging you to listen. “I do, Y/n. I’ve thought it from the very beginning.” You’re further from the street now, he notices — the sounds of traffic have faded. He glances at the time. He only has five minutes left with you. “Are you at your next class?”

“Mhm,” you mumble. “Math building.” And then you take a breath, pausing for a moment before speaking. He does his best not to panic about the time ticking away. “You might get bored of me, Suna. You might find another girl.”

A prettier girl, is what you mean. He hears it in the silence. 

“I told you,” he says, scrubbing his brow with one knuckle. “There’s only one girl for me.”

“It might be too soon to say that.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah. I know. I know it’s soon, but I also know how I feel, so I don’t know what else to say.” By the time he's done, his voice is nothing more than a whisper again. He'd lost his confidence. He's too nervous.

You stay quiet, and his knee starts to bounce again. He’s worried you’ll hang up. That you won’t address the words that had just come out of his mouth.

“I know how I feel, too.”

The air is pushed from Rintarou’s lungs in one blow to the chest. The butterflies he’d been trying to tamper down are back, rushing through his blood and his veins and making his skin prickle with sweat. He laughs once, and then he keeps laughing – delirious and disbelieving, because he’s never once been this lucky in his entire life.

“You mean that, pretty girl?” he says through his insanity, the question bubbling out of his mouth while he cards his fingers roughly into his hair and tugs hard at his roots. Harder, until it hurts, just to check that he’s not dreaming.

“I’m not gonna stop being difficult and frustrating,” you say, as if that could ever drive him away. “I’m doing my best, but it’s not gonna be pretty.”

“Everything about you is pretty,” he argues, grinning wide when you giggle on the other end of the line. “And I already know that. I already know that I might never be able to convince you to feel differently about yourself.” He shakes his head, still smiling. “But I’m not ever gonna stop telling you how I feel about you. And to me, you’re-”

“The prettiest thing you’ve ever seen – I know,” you say, your eye-roll obvious even through the phone. “Keep it up, and I might just start to believe you.”

Rintarou jumps up, throwing his fist and screaming silently to himself. Like an idiot, he cheers to no one. Because that’s what he is for you, over and over again, willingly and gratefully. An idiot, one who falls fast and hard and with all his feelings, hoping you’ll do anything and everything with them.

Idiocy’s starting to feel a little like falling in love.

i'm here again, talkin' myself out of // my own happiness

talk too much [renee rapp].

[latenighttalking00]

A Work of Art

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem! Reader

Summary: You are a Marchioness from france and your mother is adamant that you wed. She is a very close friend of the Dowager Vicountess Bridgerton who has so generously agreed to be your sponsor for the season. Perhaps in doing this, she has unknowingly found her son's perfect match as well.

Warnings: slow-ish burn, friends to lovers, smut, 18+, minors dni, hair pulling, possessive/dirty talk, fingering, oral (f receiving). This is just porn with a plot.

Word Count: 2k

Author's Note: Hi! This is my first time writing, so apologies if it's a bit rough; English isn't my native language. Hopefully, you all absolutely drool over Benedict the same way I do. enjoy!

Once the social season had begun its approach, you and your family make haste on your return from france. Due to your newly given title, you are projected to be quite the diamond this season indeed.

As a close friend of the family, the Dowager Viscountess, Violet Bridgerton kindly offers to sponsor your debut this season, meaning that it is now of the utmost importance to arrive promptly at the Bridgerton home in London before the season is to begin.

As you sit in the drawing room, awaiting the next potential suitors you will inevitably send on their way, the clear and evident dread in your expression does not go unnoticed by your mother. A quick swat to your knee from her fan catches your attention, a visible look of warning on her face as your eyes meet hers.

"I do hope that attitude of yours is quick to dissipate." She sighs, "Men will find you quite inadequate to wed if you are to continue this ridiculous behavior. It is quite unladylike." Your mother's words cut right through you as if she had taken a hot paring knife to both of your ears. Not being able to withstand it any longer, you quickly stand from your seat and interrupt her.

"Mother, this gown and the line of men outside the door are quite suffocating enough; no need for your incessant nagging as well." You take a moment to pause, regaining your composure.

"I believe I am feeling quite faint; perhaps I've seen enough suitors today." You threaten rather than suggest, "I will return to my chambers and perhaps get a bit of rest seeing as the sun has already began it’s departure from the sky."

You bow and quickly excuse yourself before making haste out the door, walking as fast as your feet can take you, right past the men who are practically begging for just a minute of your attention.

You race directly to your bedroom, entering quickly and not even fully shutting the door before you are pulling down the zipper of your gown and letting it fall to the floor. "This retched thing must come off immediately," you mumble to yourself as you pull at the laces of your corset, loosening them just enough to slide off your body. A sigh of relief leaves your lips as you slip off your stays and slip on a beautiful white nightgown you purchased from one of the most talented modiste in france.

Shortly after the maids come to collect your gown, you are quick to wander down the halls in search of a cure to your relentless boredom. you find what appears to be an art studio and you are instantly overjoyed. you quietly sneak in through the door left ajar.

Art was your pride and joy; your sketches and the ability to produce beautiful works on canvas were the only things keeping you from becoming a mad woman.

Unbeknownst to you, Violet's second-eldest son and the owner of said art studio had just returned home from the gentleman's club. As he makes his way down the hall, prepared to return to his studio and peacefully finish up some things he started the night prior, he is met with complete and udder surprise at the sight of a woman flipping through his sketchbooks.

He feels as if the air has been knocked right from his lungs. Never once has a woman looked so real, raw, and simply ethereal to him in nothing but a simple yet elegant night gown, the pages in between your delicate fingers, the way in which you sit, your effortless and beautiful features, and the way they change and turn to show your focus, the true and utter intrigue at the charcoal etched on the paper is more than enough to bring a man directly to his knees.

He watches as you adjust your position, your nightgown sliding up your thighs as you cross a leg over the other. He feels as if he might faint.

“those are from my time traveling.” he points, making his way in to the room.

So lost in thought, you are quickly brought back by the sound of the deep and sultry voice coming from the hallway, it sends chills down your body, you are unable to fight the butterflies in your stomach and are completely unprepared for what you’re eyes are met with the second they dare to leave the pages in front of you. He is perhaps one of the most beautiful men you have ever seen, the way his features darken in the dim candle light could cause scandal merely on its own.

As he makes his way over to you, you scramble to find any sort of words to not appear as a complete and udder fool. “désolée, my Lord. All this beautiful artwork caught my eye and i could not help myself.” your voice only making his new found attraction grow even stronger.

“Benedict Bridgerton..” he says just loud enough for you to hear. He is quick to take your hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“Miss y/n y/l/n” you respond, a blush creeps over your cheeks as your eyes meet his. Your name and accent are both very quick explanations as to why a very random beautiful woman was wondering in

his family home.

“Ah yes, the Marchioness from France. My mother has done quite a bit of boasting upon your arrival, i can now see why she was so keen on you being the diamond of this social season” he chuckled lightly “merci, Lord Bridgerton.” you offer him a warm smile as you place the sketch book in his hands.

Your hand grazes his and you feel as if your body is set aflame. You quickly fumble to stand, attempting to leave before any further scandal is to happen. he is quick to catch you by the arm, his light grasp more than enough to keep you in place.

“Please, stay as long as you’d like.” He offers, taking a step towards you, but you are quick to shake your head, knowing staying any longer may very well affect your title and rank during this very precious season.

“You are more than kind.” you place a hand over his and squeeze lightly. He leans even closer, your face mere inches from his. his scent fills your nose and you cannot control the heat that consumes your body, the sheer need you have for him in this very moment. “I must- i uh-..” he raises an eyebrow at your words. though his proximity fogs your brain, you attempt to compose yourself. “Perhaps i can show you some of my art in the duration of my stay here.“ he smirks, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip as he nods “if what you create is half as beautiful as you, my art will never hold a candle to yours.” he compliments.

Your breathe catches in your throat as his words. “..Benedict- Apologies, Lord Bridgerton..” you quickly correct yourself, the use of his first name not going unnoticed by him. “I’m sure both your and my Mother will have quite the earful if i am found in here, i must go.” Before he is even able to protest, you are gone.

As the days pass, You begin to consume his every waking thought, the sound of your voice, the feeling of your skin on his is burned in to his memory and he cannot shake his want for you.

Anthony is quick to notice his admiration, the wandering stares and close proximity immediately become apparent in Anthony’s eyes. As the family settles in the drawing room, Anthony is quick to pull His younger brother aside “You’ve grown quite close with Marchioness” Anthony offers his younger brother a warning glance and Benedict simply smirks in return “Brother, are you suggesting that i’ve compromised Miss y/l/n?” he laughs. Anthony in no way finds this amusing “See to it that your intentions are well thought out and you are thinking with your brain rather than something else. She is a Marchioness, toying with oversea affairs may be more than risky, even for a Bridgerton.” Anthony notes, the clear and evident weariness in his voice wipes the smile right off Benedict’s face

“Brother, do remind me. Did you not ask for one Sharma’s hand in marriage and then proceed to marry the other? You need not inform me on scandal for i am more than well aware of what i am doing.” he place a hand on Anthony shoulder and squeezes light before walking away.

time skip

Benedict does everything in his power to gain every fraction of your attention when it is available. The two of you spending more time together than any of the men attempting to court you. This new grown fondness blossoms quickly and Benedict soon becomes one of your most trusted friends. Spending late nights in his art studio, promenades in the garden, pall mall with his family. You’ve never felt more at home than with your dear Benedict and his lovely family. This fondness grows very quickly to something much stronger. Knowing Benedict’s stance on courting and marriage in general, you shake the thought. Knowing your dear friend will never see you as anything but.

While enjoying another late night in his studio, you can’t help but feel different. You both are well aware your time together is coming to end. Suitors begin growing impatient and proposals begin rolling in faster than the tide.

“I quite like Lord Lumley, he is handsome and he finds interest in poetry.” Benedict is quick to laugh “Lord Lumley is a dimwit after nothing but your title.” you wince at his words “Clearly he’s much more of a gentleman than you.” You tease, crossing your arms over your chest. “Excuse me?” he asks, the change in his tone sending heat right between your thighs. He rises from his place on the stool and saunters over to you, his large frame towering over yours.

“Repeat what you said.” he orders

“Ben i was merely kidding i-“ you stutter, his proximity making your skin feel as if it were on fire.

“Do not make me ask you again.” he warns, a smirk on his face

You are a bit taken a back by his demeanor but the insatiable desire in your body fills you with a sudden surge of confidence. “Lord Lumley is more of a gentleman than you, Lord Bridgerton.”

Benedict lets out a low chuckle before leaning down, his mouth right by your ear.

“Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps Lord Lumley isn’t plagued by the same un-gentleman like thoughts that fill my head the moment you step into a room.” he sighs, his breath on your skin only making matters worse.

Your hands find his half buttoned shirt and you press your hands lightly to his chest “Benedict.” you warn.

he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes with his own. Your noses practically grazing as he speaks. “Tell me now that you do not desire me.” His hands rest on either side of your face “Simply speak the words and i will respectfully withdraw and allow you to be with whomever you like but first you must tell me you do not desire me and you wish for me to leave you alone.”

“Ben.” You mumble quitely. Every feeling or emotion that the second eldest Bridgerton has ever caused immediately rises to the surface. At a complete loss for words, you do what you feel is right in the very moment and you bring your lips to his.

The kiss quickly fills with passion, weeks of hidden adoration and care comes bubbling over the surface.

“Marry me.” he say breathlessly as he breaks from the kiss. “You have shown me what is it truly like to admire a woman. To look at her and feel inspiration. To delight in her beauty. So much so that all of her defenses crumble and that you would willingly take on any pain or burden for her. To honor her being with your deeds and words. You make me feel what only a true poet describes." his works nearly bring you to your knees as tears threaten to escape your eyes. “I would move the heavens down to earth for you if i knew it would make you smile.”

“Benedict.. Je vous aime.” you reassure him “I love you mon chéri, more than the moon loves the night sky. You are my everything, my best-friend. I would give anything to be your wife.” He pulls you back in for another kiss which very quickly becomes heated.

He trails hot kisses all over your jaw, neck and bosom. “My beautiful Fiancée.” he mumbles, his wandering hands sliding their way up your thighs, threatening to breach the hem of your nightgown. You are immediately reminded of your current location and you push the dark haired boy back “Ben.. not here” you breathe out, The second Bridgerton son just smirks before kneeling down in front of you.

Unsure of what he’s planning, you remain silent, eyes trained on his as he begins trailing kisses up from your ankle to your inner thigh. His hands trail up the back of your legs, giving your ass a playful squeeze as he reaches it, causing a gasp to escape from your lips.

The mere sight of him like this sends heat directly between your thighs, all logical thinking thrown out the window as he begins to tug your panties down your thighs. A blush creeps over your cheeks and your hands find his hair, tugging lightly. Benedict continues with no hesitation, pressing light kisses all over your inner thighs, leading right up to your aching core. You’re unable to fight back the sounds that leave your lips as you feel his tongue pressed against your clit. “Christ Benedict… you’re going to be the death of me.”

He wastes no time, lapping, kissing and sucking at your soaked heat as strong hands grip on to your thighs, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. You lean against his desk to keep yourself upright while quiet moans and whimpers escape your lips, your hands pulling and tugging at his messy black hair, only encouraging him more. He pulls back only for a moment to look up at you “You taste fucking divine, my beautiful work of art.”

He is quick to return to your soaked heat. As his tongue works relentlessly on your clit, he slowly pushes two fingers inside of you, giving you a moment to adjust before slowly thrusting them in and out. Shortly after, you feel an unfamiliar knot form in the pit of your stomach and Benedict is aware immediately due to your incoherent mumbles and the way you clench around his fingers. “That’s my girl..” he says breathlessly “just like that..” After hearing his words, you completely unravel, shaky moans escape your lips as one hand grips on to the table and the other with a tight hold on your Fiancées hair.

Once your body has relaxed, he gently pulls your panties back up before standing to face you. You watch as he brings his fingers to your mouth “Open.” he commands and you immediately oblige, opening your mouth as he slides his fingers past your lips. The unfamiliar taste and the sheer sight in front of you causes a blush to fall over your face. He removes his fingers with a groan and offers your a smirk “You, my dear Fiancée are going to be the death of Me.”

A/N: Hi guys! I really hope every likes this :) if you have any request, feel free to send them to me :)

[caramelcandycookietwt]

Butter Roll Cookie !! :DD It meant to be simple lazy rough sketch buuuttt..I guess I just zoned out-

Bonus !! Some story (whole fricking fic,,) I made for fun!!! :333

Chars:Caramel Candy Cookie (oc),Affogato Cookie,Butter Roll Cookie,Researcher Cookie (idk which one,,Ig you can pick yourself)

Warnings:Probably bad english (not my native language),long ass text

Notes:Yep,Affo is siren in my AU :D

Footsteps sounded in the very depths of the Laboratorium..Caramel Candy Cookie was walking around it,analyzing everything she sees.What she paid most attention to was the life powder.

"M-miss Caramel Candy Cookie!" - Called her out one of the researchers.

"...!" - She turned to them with a crack and creepy smile.

"..." - They gulps.

Caramel Candy tries to appear less creepy,making her smile more friendly. - "Oh,hello! Did something happened~?"

"N-no,miss Caramel Candy Co-" - The researcher was about to finish their sentence but Candy stopped them.

"Just Caramel Candy,please.Soo..how's research going?" - It was barely noticeable,but Caramel was kind of..pissed off someone add 'Cookie' to her name.

"Great! W-we're already on the 664 step-"

"Puurfect~!" - She suddenly leaned closer to them,grinning teethy again. - "You know,father doesn't like when someone makes him wait for TOOO long~.Finish the research as fast as you can or there will be some..consequences.It's a little warning from me and father,got me~?"

The researcher quickly nodded,sweating heavily.

"Good cookie~" - Candy simply pulled away and patted their head cutely.

"Hmm? Is there someone hereee?" - The voice made Candy's ears perk up as she turned around.

"Ah! I see! You're Caramel Candy,aren't you? Licorice told me much about you!" - He looked curiously at her,but then stopped when he noticed that she stares at him. - "What's wrong,my friend..?"

". . ." - She just continues to stare,seeming to have flashbacks or something.

"Hmm.." - Butter Roll shifts his gaze to the researcher. - "Hey,you! Join the others! Teamwork is the key to success,remember?"

"Y-yes,Director Butter Roll Cookie!" - The researcher cookie left,well..they still didn't want to stay in the same room with this girl.

In that time,Affogato Cookie was wardening around the lab as well,both because of his own curiosity and the fact that it was so amusing to watch those researchers' faces when they fail again.Soon enough,he found them both and immediately payed attention to Caramel Candy and her face..

"Cara..? What that delusional girl doing here,in the place that should reminder her of her past life?? Ugh..Alright,wait here sweetie,your "hot siren twink older brother" (p.s. sorry,It was my life goal to write this,,) is coming to save you.." - He thought as he shaked his head.

"..Hmmm..." - Butter Roll snapped his fingers right in front of Candy's face to 'wake her up',yet there were no use. - "I-" - He notices Affogato. - "Oh,another CoD..! Hmmm..let me guess,you're-"

"Affogato Cookie.Yes." - He simply answered as he come closer to Candy.

"Sooo..do you know what's wrong with her?" - Roll asked with more curiosity in his tone than worry.

"Ah,don't worry,she just..zoned out." - He looked at Candy,making a worried face for a moment. - "..I guess I just take her and leave." - Affo started to drag Candy comedically towards the exit.

"Hmm,so fast already? Prehaps,you could help with the res-"

"No.I prefer not to participate in something so..dirty." - Then,he simply left.

"..Haha! Alright then,I understand! Researching things is not for everyone after all.." - Butter Roll Cookie said,as he came back to the research.

After awhile,when Affogato with Caramel Candy exited Laboratorium,Candy finally 'woke up' and pulled away from Affo.And..accidentally fell on the ground.

"..?" - He turned around in slight surprise when he felt her move.But,when she fell,he couldn't help himself but chuckle slighty..

"Ugh.." - She scratched her head softly,stood up and cleaned her 'dress-coat'. - "Soooo..I did zone out again?"

"..In short..yes."

She blinked twice,slightly embarrassed. - "..Oh." - She then quickly changed her mood back to cocky one. - "You know what..whatever.I'm sure it isn't change any impressions about me~! Hehe.." - Yet,she seems to be still slightly nervous due to her past memories and Butter Roll himself..

"..." - Affogato immediately noticed this,but decided not to tell her about it because he knows there no use to make this stubborn girl open up. - "..Alrighty,if you're already awake..I guess we can simply teleport into our room now.There's no need to waste energy after all.."

"Hmm..you're right..can I get some sweets of yours after~?!" - She started to act more childish as she leaned closer to him with sparkly eyes.

"Haha..yes.Yes you are." - He smirked at her childish behavior,even knowing that most of it all is fake..

P.s. Affogato Cookie the Sillie's protector /hj

[dentiststoothfairy]

Aaah! Just kidding lol, I wanted to say that I’m really glad to see the contributions you have brought to the idv fandom. I recently got into idv, and stumbled on your page because of it 😅 I wanted to ask if you would at all be interested in continuing that artist so x Norton? Really loved it!Maybe a part 2 on there growing relationship, or even how Hunter Norton see the reader after turning? I don’t want you to rush or feel obligated to do this! I saw your recent post about being in pain for a few months, so don’t push yourself. And I hope you feel better 💞

🍩 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥 🍩 & ⛏️ 𝐅𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝 ⛏️

𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐒𝐇𝐘 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐒/𝐎

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈

Afterwards, Norton was a lot more... Out of his usual character around you?

He seemed to be a little more gentle with you, a little more awkward. It was almost cute.

Its giving "his eyes softened" trope.

Don't get me wrong. He's still pretty stoic and stuff, he doesn't uproot his entire personality for you. But there are uh, very subtle changes.

He's less snappy first of all. He doesn't assume the worst instantly when you stare at him and depending on the day, he either acts like he doesn't notice or he freezes a bit.

"You're still doing that?"

Give him some time, he's not used to the positive light on his appearance <3

But he'll find himself looking around to see if you're around, just so someone familiar is in his general vicinity.

He'll stand up for you if anyone gives you any fucking issues about the fact you're incredibly shy.

He can shut Freddy up so god damn fast. He usually would've turned a blind eye but he sort of developed a bit of a sweet spot for you.

And if anyone asks him about it, he either just sends them a dirty glare, tells them to piss off or just doesn't say a word.

But once he turns into Fools Gold, you do see him less.

Honestly, he finds himself disgusting.

He was turned into a psychotic monster of the rubble that killed everyone he knew.

That's twisted.

But, to be honest. You didn't give up on him. He was a diamond in the rough, but a diamond nonetheless.

The sketches never stop piling in. You drop them at his door so that he can still admire them. Not gonna lie this way is a little easier for you to face him hehe

In fact, you even incorporate a little bit of charcoal to give a nod to his new shape.

Originally he would've thought that was an insult of some kind. But. The way you draw him..

Do you..

Do you really see him like that?

But as you notice. Your papers that usually stack at his door are disappearing.

He's taking them.

Hopefully they're teaching him to continue to love himself

and maybe

they're teaching him to love you as well.

[nerdieforpedro]

The Brave, the Bold, The Dirty - Fanfics that I adore

Volume 4

All fanfics on this list are for readers age 18 and up, please respect the author's tags, warnings and notes as they're there so you know what's in them. Read at your own risk.

A Slice of Life Day by @linzels-blog (Din Djarin x GN reader)

Bakers are killing it with Pedro boys this holiday season. Our reader shows the clan of two how to bake some goodies for Life Day. Cue all the feels.

Loser by @kiwisbell (Frankie "Catfish' Morales and Fem reader)

The reader is friends with Frankie and helps him celebrate his birthday. Teaching Frankie is it's own reward as he's a hands-on and enthusiastic student. Catfish needs all the help he can get.

Exposed by @maggiemayhemnj (Ezra x GN reader)

Out of a haze, feelings that neither of them thought were reciprocated were made clear, as were events from before things became murky. It reads like an epic poem.

Face to Face by @bluebeary-jay (Din Djarin x Fem Mandalorian reader)

The reader and Din are riduurs, as such the helmets can come off. But are they ready? All the fluffy fluff.

Frankie & Din by @avastrasposts (Din Djarin x Frankie Morales)

Who would have ever pictured these two meeting? It's genuinely sweet and funny. They should have their own sitcom with Grogu "Two Pilots and a Foundling."

Don’t Drink the Punch by @wildemaven (Dave York x Fem reader)

Soft Dave York needs his own warning. He does make boring work parties 100 times better. Complements to the tie.

Watercolor by @iamskyereads (Pero Tovar x Fem reader)

The reader hopes to one day capture the Knight she pictures fore herself in her sketches. Taking over for the bath girl was an enlightneing experience.

Sex on Fire by @katiexpunk (Firefighter Joel x Fem reader)

The reader had moved to New York into her aunt's apartment. Her aunt was neighbor's with Joel, now she is. Let the burn start.

You Belong With Me by @lowlights (Dieter Bravo x plus size Fem reader)

Let no one ever tell you that Dieter Bravo wouldn't give all the toys you want. Any type of toys you asked for, and will ensure you try out every single one.

At the Garden Inn by @batdarkladyvampir (Dieter Bravo x curvy Fem reader)

The reader is a manager of a B&B in Arizona. Not a place one would expect to see Dieter Bravo. She didn't expect that Bravo would take more than a liking to her either.

Sky Drabbles by @frenchiereading (Frankie Morales x Fem reader)

The sky keeps changing and so do the reader's and Frankie's feelings for each other. They roll on like the clouds, growing into something more maybe? Might find out beyond the horizon.

Linger On by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin (Joel Miller x fem reader)

To the reader, Joel is like a bad penny, he keeps popping up. Maybe she wants him to, maybe she's mad that she wants him to. All the angst. Rambler's a master at it.

Resting Eyes by @frenchiereading (Joel Miller x fem reader)

Frenchie is having a blog milestone celebration 🎉 A cozy celebration. I sent her an ask with a Pedro boy and a prompt (reader and Joel reading aloud to each other) and this sweet domestic fic is what she created with that little of information. I love her ❤️ I am biased, but this applies to the entire list (maybe Frenchie a smidge more 😘)

Yours by @wheresarizona (Dave York x fem reader)

Hot smut + possessive Dave with a generous slathering of Soft Dave. Read this and enjoy, you'll thank your eyes later.

White Christmas by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin (Dieter Bravo x fem reader)

Not everyone has happy holidays with their family because it's more stress than it is worth. So get away from it all and diddle your Dieter fast, slow, rough, with a dash of red or however you enjoy your diddles. Diddle deep and scream. 😝 Stay hydrated 💦

Give to me by @sp00kymulderr (Dieter Bravo x fem reader)

Dieter Bravo has feelings, a lot of them about our reader. He's running through them in the aftermath of the night before. He's all in, consumed and doesn't want to talk about it. Just wants more time. So sweet.

Please check out the fics on the list and support them by liking and reblogging. Authors enjoy interactions about their work. 🤓

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

Sodor Work History: James Edition

Ugh, it seems to have vanished?? But I had an anon request a James equivalent to my Edward work history post. Of course now that I'm done writing I can't find the ask… #ThanksTumblr… Anyway here goes:

I'd like to! But James is tricky...

The thing with James is, we seem to have a bunch of data points throughout the books on his doings. But there's so much we don't know about the main line working and how many "unseen" engines share the work with our main characters. Like, all the branch line characters are easier to at least assemble pieces into a rough border because there are more constraints there. The main line has too many unknowns. There is a similar problem to sketching out Henry's timetables, but at least with Henry—like with all the other MCs—we know of at least one thing that he is known to do regularly. We don't have a touchstone for James.

Broadly, though, here are a few things I notice (and/or just streeeeeetch to conclude in a fever dream) about James's Sodor career:

He spent a little while there as the closest damn thing Tidmouth had to a station pilot. I feel like this gets completely overlooked. After the bootlace incident he's benched from passenger work, of course, but in addition to goods work he is doing a lot of coach-fetching at the big station. Troublesome Engines says that he continued being the "odd jobs" fellow for a while until he started to rebel. He would never have been full-time—unlike, say, Thomas. Thomas, I'm sure, would have been transferred to Tidmouth when HQ moved and continued there if not for his branch line assignment. But, unlike Thomas, James is trusted to take trains out of the station. But in between those trains he was largely stuck with the shunting. (In "Troublesome Trucks" his tricky goods train appears to go as far as Maron or Cronk? Not traversing the whole line, not yet.) Troublesome Engines says of course that Gordon and Henry had to step up, and also that Edward helped when he was available, but I think it's pretty obvious who was a) actually a Tidmouth engine and b) the newest Tidmouth engine and c) the smallest Tidmouth engine. (To add to this brief period in James's life, I note that the train that pushes him down the hill at the end of TTTE might well be—da dum da dum!—the same train that Thomas lost control of in the previous story. How's that for literary repetition, eh? Anyway, point being, James might have been expected to fill in Thomas's old role on the NWR from the very start.)

During Thomas and Bertie's chase, James is seen in an illustration with a goods train on Thomas's line! Now you can explain away one random illustration if you want, but it does make a lot of sense that in 1948 Thomas might need help running goods on his line—this would have been after the useful working lives of the Coffee Pots, but before Toby (and way before Percy) join the line. So yeah, until Toby's arrival James might have pitched in on Thomas's line fairly often. It's a nice detail. It might have gone all the way back to the '20s or whatever. Certainly James would have been grateful to Thomas for rescuing him so he was probably happy to do it... at least for a while...

Let's talk main line stopping trains. I have a bit of a headcanon here, though it's built on the slenderest of canonical reeds which is why I'm not calling this bit an analysis. We see James with a lot of these stopping trains but in my personal canon I've decided that all such trains we see him on in this era ("Dirty Objects," "Old Iron," "A Close Shave," and maybe "Henry's Sneeze") are 'the Limited,' which I take it is a semi-fast that stops only at major stations (places like Knapford, Wellsworth, Cronk—maybe Crovan's Gate though that seems to leave CG, like, absurdly well-served). No all-stops for James, thank you! Well, occasionally he gets stuck with one but usually that's beneath him.

Sadly for him, throughout most of the '50s goods are clearly not beneath him. If I am right that in passenger work he specializes on the semi-fast, he has no such luck in goods work. "Dirty Objects" has that wonderful description making it clear how much James hates slow good trains but I suspect those are his bread and butter for years to come. Certainly he's in the midst of another such assignment a year later in "Old Iron"—and in that story it is also made clear that, not only does he have to stop at each station to pick up or drop off trucks, at most of these stops he has to do his own shunting. This sounds like it probably takes most of his damn day. The day described in "Dirty Objects" of one morning passenger service followed by one of these endless slogs is probably pretty typical for James in this era.

In the early '50s at least, this routine gets broken up—occasionally—only when there is a need to cover the Express. The '50s were a good decade for it, as, in addition to Gordon's regular need for "rest" or maintenance, James also gets to score big with Gordon's unplanned trip to London and Gordon's lengthy punishment following the Ditch Incident. Jackpot, baby!

[Time-Sensitive Alert: There Is A Tram Engine Blocking Your Line]

I assume all James's appearances at the junction with the narrow-gauge gang are when he's taking an Express. Or maybe some sort of Limited? But it's... fairly consistent that Tidmouth engines are not just randomly on the eastern end of the line unless they're taking some sort of major train—I presume that any of the humdrum 'Locals' on the eastern side are taken care of by Vicarstown engines.

The '50s are when we get the most complete picture of James's working days. I reckon it changed, however, towards the end of the decade. Along with the other 'eight,' our boy's fame is on the rise throughout the decade and I think James effectively parlayed this into doing more passenger work, taking advantage of what was surely a rise in tourism to the island. At some point James is merely picking up the slack when it comes to heavy goods—and then. Then! Donald arrives. Bringing a twin with him! I tend to think at this point James was pretty much relieved from the goods work he had hated for so long completely... for, like, a month or two. Then Donald had to be repaired after his totally-accidental signalbox adventure and TFC observes ruefully that "James will have to help with the goods work... he won't like that!" Surely not, but I think the thing was, when TFC got an unexpected 2-for-1, James was immediately released from that stuff. God, no wonder that by the final story he was so keen for both twins to stay on! For that matter, I also reckon that James was usually tapped for snow-removal duty during winters before the Caledonians came. Really they were a godsend to him in his effort to rise above his station. Ye're welcome, laddie.

Seriously. For the rest of the Wilbert Awdry books, I can't find another instance of James doing goods work. *shrugs casually* Now, Awdry was also giving James far less screen time at this point so you can say definitely say there's not enough data to draw meaningful conclusions. I however prefer to think it was no coincidence but rather a logical effect of recruiting Duck, the Caledonians, and the diesels of the '60s. It makes sense. Heavy goods would have only been getting heavier. Not that it was impossible for James to keep up, but if you have some modern diesels and two Scottish goods engines who love to work together as much as possible then, you know. Why keep forcing James into that role?

I admit that Christopher Awdry fucks up this trajectory. Sigh. Sometimes he is soooo thoughtful about his timetable choices but other times I think he just defaults to some of the most obvious franchise tropes the same way a TVS writer would. It's maddening.

Anyway yeah, I concede that as soon as we see James again in '84 he's taking goods. He's also complaining about having to shunt his train, saying that this should be Donald or Douglas's kind of work, but the twins were both called away to help on Edward's branch line on that particular day so the field is open for James to have his karmic story ("Crossed Lines"). Now you could make a plausible case that what James says when he's grumbling is not to be trusted as gospel truth and that he's exaggerating the degree to which this is now true but I'm inclined to take it at face value.

At any rate, for all the rest of the series, James is seen (when he is seen) taking passenger trains, including at least one turn on the Express in '92/'93, except on a few occasions:

1. Filling in while Henry is in overhaul on the Flying Kipper

2. Working some sort of special job repairing rails along with Donald and Douglas in the final book. Notably he expresses on the last day (well, the "last" day, or so they all thought) that he's looking forward to it being done so he can hopefully go back to passenger trains, but he is remarkably chill throughout the whole story and causes zero (0) drama at all. And you thought Gordon was supposed to be the only RWS character to show growth. Mwahaha!

In short, I suppose when you add in the Christopher Awdry era (you know. if we want to) then it's no longer clear whether James is really doing goods work and odd jobs significantly less or whether he's just bitching about it less. I'm inclined to think Both, however: He's called upon for it less often than in the pre-Caledonian invasion days and therefore he doesn't chafe and bitch nearly about it as much when he is.

Much like we let TVS confirm/fill in the gist of Edward's latter-day career, I feel like we can take similar cues for James. I'm thinking here mostly of the Brenner era, especially *drumroll please* "SOMEBODY HAS TO BE THE FAAAAVOURITE!" vibes. Well, I'm not so sure James is really going around singing his smokebox off (... though it's cute ngl...) but I do think it's true that he is, in general, picking up a steady enough supply of "good" jobs that his ego is pretty well fed. Which is honestly a much better way to manage James than to try desperately to teach him humility, if you ask me.

I'm not sure how useful a proposed timeline will be but it seemed to be some people's favorite part of the last such post I did so I'll give it a try.

1925 — goods trial, first day cow-field crash

1925 — overhaul

1925 — passenger trial, bootlace incident

1925 — station pilot and local goods (western end of line only)

1925 — allowed back on passenger trains, also western end of line only

1928 (or whatever year you allow for the strike and Percy's arrival, which is somewhere between '25-'35) — shifts to a longstanding pattern of morning stopping passenger train (I proposed the Limited, to Cronk and back to Tidmouth) and then has a slow heavy goods out of Tidmouth (this requires stopping and shunting at many stations and takes the better part of the day), probably tacks on an evening passenger service too

1939-1946 — I do think wartime disrupted James's schedule. Ironically I tend to think he got a lot of passenger services, including regular charge of the Express to free Gordon on heavy coal and war materiel trains, but the work was all non-stop hell and Vicarstown certainly and probably Tidmouth also got blitzed so it's not like he got to enjoy it. Troop trains were also probably a James specialty.

1960 — James transitions out of heavy goods work and his longstanding timetable of Limited + slow goods + evening commuter service is changed, probably to something featuring more passenger trains than previously. Fitted goods are definitely an option to replace his hated slow goods assignment.

2010-11 — James picks up a months-long assignment helping with some sort of line repair. Notably it seems to be during the late winter/early spring "off season," so my guess is that he took his usual commuter services but that during the summer and holidays James is also taking frequent specials. It's during that chunk of his "busy season" timetables that he is pulled for stuff like this in the off-season—no need to find coverage for him.

You'll notice the 1920s were suuuuuuper eventful but also only a blip in James's life.

Which is the exact sort of thing that I think we so often forget. They've all lived so much more life than their little highlight stories that we're privy to.

[ebonyslasher]

Spicy Alphabet: Daniel Lamb

Make sure to read Daniel's character information post I made if you're unfamiliar with his character.

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

“Are you okay? Did you like it?”

Daniel takes the time to catch his breath while holding you. You feel his kisses scatter on your body, his lips finding your nipple as his tongue swirls your areolas. They harden more, excited with his actions. Moist pink lips suction on them, eliciting a small moan from your form.

At some point, it’ll be time to clean up....or not. He doesn’t mind sitting in the product of the coupling for a bit.

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

Daniel: Torso. The running, hiding, and killing has built up Daniel’s body over the years. He used to have a broad, but undefined chest and stomach. Now he has pecs and a sketch of abs. 

You: Your face. He gets entranced by your beauty. He loves looking at your facial expressions, hopefully you are expressive type! If he can, he will keep a picture of you with him.

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

Ejaculates an average amount, but his refractory period is shorter than average. Daniel can pile cum on or in you throughout back to back sessions. He likes his cum on you, in you, and on himself.

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

When he would go on his fishing trips with Michael, his mouth would be filthy when he talked about sex and who he was attracted to. Michael was no different. If you worked or interned at the workplace, you were definitely on the list of ones he would talk about. Maybe a bit too much. 

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

No, but yes. He had a wife, so obviously yes. But, he doesn’t remember her, so technically no. Muscle memory will kick in and will build his sex skills back up quickly.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

This

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

He would rather sex be serious. But, he’s open to be humorous.

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

Not groomed, he doesn’t have time. If Daniel is at your residence, he will groom at your place before any sexual activity. 

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

Pretty intimate, Daniel can’t get off without some emotional attachment. Especially with the trouble of preserving his memory. Daniel believes in the phenomenon where the more attached he is, the more likely he will remember the memory for a substantial amount of time. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

The scenes he’s forced in are too tense where consistent focus is on surviving; therefore, it won’t be on his mind. Even outside of surviving, Daniel has tunnel vision on any interesting topics. When he’s actually relaxed is when he will be open to play with himself. He keeps it quite simple, quick and easy.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Being flashed, Nice fragrances or aromas, Erotic images/art, Medical Play/Roleplay, voyeurism, squirting, cumplay, comfort sex. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your place or a random hotel.

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

Your smiles, High intellect, being helpful to his situation, strength (emotional,mental, or physical), strong loyalty, a little bit of obsessive behavior (towards him). 

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

Don’t mention Leo during intimate moments, it just seems wrong. If you’re trying to get close to him, Don’t be mysterious about who you are and your intentions. No talk of The Project, or threatening to turn him in. No sadistic cruelty (unless the person deserved it) and no trying to control him.

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

Both. Daniel savors the taste of you and is desperate for you to taste him whole. With a lot of saliva.

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

Hard, moderate to fast. Will like slow, but does it to drive you or him crazy

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

He is open to them, although it is not his key preference. He does often wake up with morning wood and wants to solve it quickly.

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

Yes, as long as no one gets hurt.

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

High, He hides, stalks and kills for hours and days at a time. 3 in one go, 30-40 minutes (depending on foreplay).

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

No, can’t. Before the bridge, he only had one pocket pussy hidden in the house. Of course, that’s torched now. Although a bit overwhelmed, Daniel will be interested in using it on you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Sometimes, when he wants you to act/look desperate or wants a big release

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

Moderately loud. Daniel sounds like a delicious nerdy mess.

“Y/N…mmmnnn”

“Oh god, yes!” 

“The inside of you feels so good..”

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

“Sit on my chest and play with yourself until you squirt on my face.”

Daniel loves the visual of your squirting on him. He’s not afraid of your sex liquid splashing him. He enjoys the hit of salt and tang that washes over his tongue, the wet and uncomfortable feel of the ejaculate hitting his flesh, and the squelching lead up and the uncontrollably loud moaning as you release onto him. 

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

8 inches length. 2 inch Width. His head is perfectly bell shaped and a pink color, shade #B75D5C. His slit is convex like a cat’s pupil, with a little pucker in the middle. Circumcised. Slight curve, approximately 0.85%. 

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

Average

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Here are the following conditions: 

In the situation of you journeying with him: Daniel will fall asleep if he feels safe/comfortable. May wake up as Leo and try to make you continue. May wake up as Daniel and either: hang around (morning) or continue (night).

In the situation where he comes to your residence: Daniel will stay and sleep, if his PTSD doesn’t act up. Even in the event that it does, he will cuddle and hang onto you. Leo will try to leave or coax another session before hopping out. 

[troubleshade]

"What if..."

Sometimes my head spins around with infamous "What if" scenarios. And I want to bring them to the paper so I don't go insane.

So I want to create a little series where I just can dump the ideas if some choices in my stories took an other direction.

These little stories or explanations will be stored under the "keep reading" option, because it could trigger some people with specific topics or can be get really long. (I'll write out warnings as best as I can)

Anyway... this episode of today's "What if": Aster don't rescue Asha, Coen and Chiisai

(tw: attempt murder, visualizing of blood, injuries)

The three are originally from a human lab, Aster broke in there for informations. After his plan got scrapped by an accident and fire outbreak he flees. He notices the small turtles but don't get the chance to take them with him before his chasers see him. Aster escapes without the turtle tots.

Therefore Asha, Chiisai and Coen are still inprisoners of the lab, their fate takes an other more darker turn.

Asha: The siren

The second oldest faced the most experiments with mutagen, it got more excessive over time to keep their control over Chiisai. Asha get used as a form of blackmail against her sister. She grows over time too fast, reaching a height of 10'49" ft (3,20 m). Due to the massive expose to mutagen Asha's behavior changes from almost normal to feral. She talks in gibberish, only able to pronounce a few words correctly (like the name of her sister).

For the scientists she isn't a too dangerous threat, except if the humans hurt her sister. She mostly listens to Chiisai and going on missions as a guardian. The turtle loves to be in water and has a pond for herself. Nobody should get too near to her if she's in water because she tends to grab and drown her victims in incredible speed. Music fascinates Asha and she sings and hums with a sweet voice her own melodies.

Chiisai: The hunter

The oldest turtle got trained for assasination missions and the dirty work. She got a heated temper and tried the most to escape the facility. If she is on her missions she can be merciless and enjoys the hunt more than she would admit. As she became too rebelious and a serious danger for the humans the turtle got her collar and her sister Asha suffers because of Chiisai's mistakes. She is the only one who communicates with Asha and fully understands her. The two share a cell for the night, she's not allowed anymore to be in a room with Coen after she almost killed her brother.

Because of her soft shell she got an outer protection shell, but she hates it. (She can't take it of, what enrage her more). Chiisai holds a grudge not only towards Coen but to Aster too. In her fuzzy memory she remembers Aster and his escape without looking back at them. She don't really know him but she will hurt him as soon if she ever meet Aster.

Coen: The wolf in sheep's clothing

The youngest has the most freedom of the three. Thanks to intense manipulation he joins the human without questions. He roams freely through the facility and isn't seen as a threat but as a trustworthy follower.

His job is to blend in in different sanctuaries of the remaining mutants just to hand them out to the humans in the end. For that his sister Chiisai hates him. He doesn't care much for his sisters, Coen is the one who needs to retrieve them if they escapes. The last fight with Chiisai ended almost fatal for him. He lost his eyesight, later he got artificial eyes.

Some rough sketches (click for better view)

[choutac]

Draw Sneakers with the "Fast & Dirty" Technique!

I drew Sneakers with the "Fast & Dirty technique" on my iPad! Have you heard of it? It's a technique that most beginners don't know because they think they should sketch nicely and neatly to succeed.

How to Draw Sneakers with the “Fast & Dirty Technique”! (7min14) 00:25 Draw with a thick nib01:12 Start drawing with the “Shoe Last” 01:39 Add simple color blocking 01:47 Select a dark grey 02:57 Fail? Draw a new sketch! 04:58 Imagine your design on a store shelve 05:50 Draw Fast & Dirty! I love trying new sketching appsand testing them like a geek. 💻 Today,I use the app “Morpholio Trace” for…

[fertilize-my-eggs]

Sweet lovin' dom! Izuku x chubby black sub fem! Reader smut part one

🚫MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI THANKS YOU ♡🚫

A/N: this is base on my post this just sweet wholesome soft smut so yeah, hope y'all enjoy this😊 part two

Warings: wholesome smut + body worship + dirty talking + oral (f) + creampie + unprotected sex + losing virginity.

You were sitting on the bench just looking at your sketchbook, your soft melanin hand was holding a pencil sketching out cute little characters from an anime show that you love. A man with shaggy green hair sits next to you not too close but it was a good three inches. He leans over to look at your sketch, you feel his emerald eyes watching your every move making you a bit nervous, you look up at him. "Oh, I'm so sorry to bother you." His hands wave around fast as he points at the small sketch of a rabbit. "I really like your sketches, that one looks really cute." His smile looks so pretty and soft, you couldn't help but feel all warm inside.

And that's how you meet your boyfriend Izuku. The first time felt like everything. The conversations are always so lovely and meaningful.

Midoriya would talk about his life and how he wasn’t able to become a hero like his friends, so he was focusing on a few jobs until he found his passion in boxing. You would join in and watch him teach the little ones self-defense. He would talk to his old friends from time to time.

"Hey babe, who's on the phone?" You poke your head out when you hear your boyfriend's light laughs.

"Haha... It's my childhood friend Kacchan dear." You can hear Katsuki's booming voice echo through his phone. You couldn't help the giggle as you are making homemade food.

You were making mac and cheese. There were a couple pieces of cornbread in a small bowl nearby. You're humming softly, dancing and swaying your hips to a random song that's stuck in your head.

You made a soft gasp when you felt his rough hands wrap around your pudgy waist.

You turned towards him as he kissed your soft wide nose, he put his forehead towards yours. “You look so gorgeous, princess."

Your smile always makes him melt heavenly; he could look at it all day.

"I'm making us some food." He gently held your hands, his thumbs rubbing it affectionately. "This looks good! Is that soul food?" You hum bubbly. "Yup! Is this the first time you're having some?" You could see your boyfriend's mouth drooling, nodding his head fast making you giggle.

After the meal was made, both you and Izuku had your usual conversations. He was talking about his chat on the phone with Katsuki and how his day was going great.

You watch him take a bite of the roasted chicken and couldn't hold the giggle back when he melts into the chair. "How was it, baby?" He made a sweet groan when he took another bite. "Y/n... I’m in heaven." You burst out laughing a bit.

You couldn't help but bite your lips and seductively said. "Ooh you should try to eat my pussy; bet you're gone be knocked out heavenly." His green eyes widened as he started to stutter with his words messily, you start to wheeze hard.

"Alright... I want to try it." He smirked at you while you're wiping your tears while his whole face is flustered. "Right now?" He nodded his head, you and him quickly finished the meal and started speed walking to your shared bedroom.

Both of your clothes were falling off with each step until you're both naked. Izuku laying on his back, you look a bit nervous since you never had sex or being eating out. Your fingertips were playing with your curls. "Baby... I don't want to crush ya what if you-." Your eyes meet with his fiery lustful eyes. "I will still love you babydoll." His deeply purred making you wet, you carefully straddled on top of him. Your rich brown thighs were on either side of his head, you looked down at him. "Ready babydoll? I won't stop until you scream out my name."

Now you're the one getting flustered. “Yeah, I'm ready.” His lean arms wrap around your pump thighs to pull you down, he starts off slow licking, sucking your hooded clit then doing little circular motion.

*Edit*

I have my wonderful mutual who's help me with the editing so give some love and support to @preciousamethyst for doing a great job ^y^

[lebenspurpur]

Jealous otis sinclair smut???

bestie who the fuck is otis sinclair/hj

Anyway you're getting NSFW headcannons with the Sinclair brothers and Otis because why not.

ᴠɪɴᴄᴇɴᴛ ꜱɪɴᴄʟᴀɪʀ

Vincent has a pretty high sex-drive but he doesn't show it. He's scared that you don't want him and so he keeps on ignoring his urges.

We all know Vincent has a few dirty drawings laying somewhere. They're really good too since he knows quite a lot about anatomy.

Vincent literally doesn't care what you look like. Bodies are just instruments to him, no matter what shape they are.

Please pull his hair. Especially when he goes down on you. It awakes such an animalistic urge inside of him, it's astonishing.

Don't ask him for cockwarming because that man has patience. He has no problem sitting there for hours, maybe reading, maybe sketching, who knows.

He might never admit it but the thought of his twin hearing the two of you arouses him more than anything else. Vincent will try his best to make you scream to let his dreams come true.

Vincent is pretty much down for everything you want to try, except inflicting pain on you. Him receiving pain? Depends on the pain but he might be down.

Very big fan of cumming inside of you. It feels like he's claiming you with his seed.

Loves tying you up. Especially when it looks aesthetically pleasing.

ʙᴏ ꜱɪɴᴄʟᴀɪʀ

This horny, horny man. Bo has such a high sex drive, he can literally take you all day, every day.

An ass man through and through.

Loves doggy-style. The animalistic side of him comes out and the fact that he's 100% in control just arouses the shit out of him.

Very open with his sexual life. The amount of information that Vincent had to listen to is... really astonishing.

Fucking you to Marylin Manson in the gas station? Yes.

Doesn't care if Vincent listens. Kind of wants him to. Will definitely whisper You want Vince to hear us? in your ear when you're loud.

Teasing motherfucker. For someone so spontaneous and childish Bo has quite the patience.

I am so sorry but he gets horny when he's drunk. We all know drunk sex is not it. Have fun with that.

Sex outside is a must. Bo doesn't really care where exactly, he just wants to be outside.

He will also fuck you in front of victims, especially if they make him jealous.

ʟᴇꜱᴛᴇʀ ꜱɪɴᴄʟᴀɪʀ

Lester is often perceived as a sweetheart but he probably has more knowledge in the romantic apartment than both of his brothers. That being said, he's not innocent.

Also an ass man. Loves your bottom, no matter what it looks like.

This was always a headcannon of mine and idk why but Lester has the best rhythm. He's empathetic enough to be slow and aroused enough to be fast and that somehow works perfectly.

Suck him off while he drives. Maybe not in his truck because yk, full with dead animals but still.

Shower sex. Need I say more.

Very fucking kinky but no one expects that. Let's not forget that this boy has trauma too.

Totally fine with tying you up for the day and just let you wait for him.

Frustrated sex? Hell yeah.

Lester can be both, rough and loving. It really depends on his mood.

ᴏᴛɪꜱ ᴅʀɪꜰᴛᴡᴏᴏᴅ

Oh boy. Get your seatbelt on because this is gonna be one hell of a ride.

Necrophiliac. And a very committed one. He'll fuck you with a corpse lying next to you.

Everything about Otis feels like a fever dream. Sex is very interesting as well. If you're both not high as fuck, you might not be fucking Otis.

Always down for a threesome as long as he can kill the other person later. The more people, the more pleasure as he likes to say.

Extremely into outside sex. Especially when he knows that there are other people outside.

Very degrading, especially if you're a woman. Thrives if you cry.

Will slap you if you're down. Is also very big on spanking.

Want to get fucked by another person while Otis films it? He'll obviously kill the other partner later and fuck you in front of their dying body but still.

A little finger action at the dinner table with the family is one of his favorite daydreams.

Otis has his own porn stacked somewhere. And yes, he'll fuck you while watching it.

Never wears any kind of protection and that will never change.

[shootybangbang]

In which peaches are eaten in more ways than one

[Pairing]: Arthur Morgan/Reader

[Rating]: Explicit

[Prompt]: Arthur watches you seductively eat a juicy peach (from @outtricking)

[Ao3 Link]

———

The abandoned manor’s peach orchard is overgrown with tall grass and small white clusters of wild carrot blossoms. Most of its trees stand bare, choked with ivy, the vastness of their skeletons the only testament of their former grandeur. But here and there are straggled survivors, the majority of which have long since been picked clean by other travelers and passing wildlife. The only fruit left is strung up high in the topmost branches, hanging down golden-edged and plump. Ripe enough to make your mouth water.

“I don’t think climbing’s an option,” you say, pressing down on a tree’s lower branches to check its give. “We could get a big stick and try to knock ‘em off, or maybe you could just… uh… y’know… ”

You mime picking up an object and placing it on your shoulders.

Arthur sighs. “You want me to carry you.”

“It’s quicker and easier than anything else.”

“You ain’t paid me to be your horse.”

“That’s true,” you admit. At this point, the number of things you’ve had him do out-of-contract would probably fill a book. A decent person would concede his point and apologize. Instead, you try out a more oblique method. “And I’m probably too heavy for you, anyway.”

He gives you an irritated glance and shakes his head. “You tryin’ to bait me into provin’ you wrong?”

“Figured it was at least worth a shot,” you say, shrugging.

Arthur looks up at the top branches of the fruit tree, then at you, and works out a rough height comparison in his head. He sighs again and kneels down. “Alright then. Get on.”

“What — really?’

“Don’t wanna hear you complainin’ about this later is all.” He looks back in your direction expectantly. “C’mon. You want them peaches or not?”

You place a tentative hand on his right shoulder, leaning against him for support as you swing one leg over his left. “Then do I just… um… like this?”

“Yeah. Just like that. And now the other — yeah, there we go.”

Arthur steadies you by holding down your knees. He grips you firm but gentle, like a man trying to keep something frail and flighty from slipping between his fingers, and stands up.

The sudden shift in balance is startling. Your hands frantically search for something to hold onto for support, and you end up grabbing at his wrists as you reorient yourself. He stiffens at the contact, but says nothing.

When you’ve straightened your back enough to survey your surroundings from your new vantage point, you take a moment to appreciate the new perspective. “So this is what it’s like to be tall. Bet you run into a lot of spiderwebs.”

Arthur ignores this. “Can you reach ‘em?”

“Yeah, I think so.” You twist off a particularly large peach from a nearby branch and take off your hat to use as a makeshift basket, then swivel your hip to reach towards another that’s just barely within your grasp. “Too bad we’re not close to town”, you say, thinking already of possible desserts. “Sophia told me that over in Georgia they eat peaches with cream and sugar, and…”

For a while, you ruminate dreamily about peach cobblers and preserves, about the luxury of vanilla ice cream melting on latticed peach pie. And all the while Arthur clenches his jaw and tries as hard as he can to concentrate on what you’re saying in an attempt to divert his focus from the weight and warmth of your thighs atop his shoulders.

It’s something that he’ll carry with him for some time, he recognizes with a heavy pang of guilt. Something he’ll almost certainly keep carefully tucked away for later, when he’s alone in his own bedroll.

———

Late afternoon, you help him set up camp along the Kamassa River. After the horses have been watered and the kindling gathered, you both sit sprawled and weary against the ruined hull of an old boat half-sunk in the sand.

Resting his head against the sun bleached boards, Arthur briefly closes his eyes.

Through the woods comes the sound of cicadas, deafening in their multitude, ringing like an omnipresent hum, insistent and rhythmic in its cadence. Like a chant, a soft murmur of chitinous voices. Alongside it, the quick, clear notes of riverwater running through the rocks and the rustle of leaves overhead, the sway of branches arching from the wind in slow, lazy waves that merge overhead like a green sea.

And the distinctive scratch of graphite across paper. He drowsily cracks an eyelid open and angles his gaze downwards.

The battered notebook in your lap looks like it’s seen its fair share of miles. It’s tattered and dog-eared, with smeared ink at its edges. The leather cover is scuffed and stained, and the pages don’t quite sit flat, due to the occasional pressed flowers trapped between them.

He watches you scrawl out what looks like a brief itinerary of the day’s route, listing off landmarks passed along the road and detailing what flora and fauna you’re able to remember. Then little snippets of description that you cross out and rewrite with increasing frustration, disjointed but pretty little phrases littering the margins…

Your pencil stills. “You’re reading over my shoulder.”

“Trying to.” Arthur points to the corner of the page, where you’ve drawn a wobbly line with little stick trees atop it. Under it is a crude half-circle labelled boat. “This supposed to be where we’re at now?”

You bristle. “Yes.”

He gropes for something inoffensive to say, then opts for silence.

“Well, you’re the artist,” you say, offering him your pencil. “You draw it.”

“Sure,” he says, taking both notebook and pencil in hand. He flips to a clean page. “Not like I can do worse.”

Brushing sand off the seat of your pants, you stand up and stretch, raising your arms high and fitting your fingers together like interlocking gears. “I’m gonna go check on the peaches.”

———

The Kamassa runs cold, even in the dog days of summer. Earlier, you’d wrapped the peaches in sackcloth and submerged them in its waters, then ringed them tight with rocks to hold them in place. Now, you cut an inelegant figure as you crouch at the river’s edge and fish one out, cupping it thoughtfully against your palm to check whether it still holds the fading glow of afternoon heat.

You pick out the two biggest peaches in the pile before resecuring the rest, then seat yourself back beside him and proffer one to him.

Arthur shakes his head. He’s in the middle of sketching the sandbar in the middle of the river, drawing the shapes of shrubs and other assorted vegetation out from the blank paper expanse. “Don’t wanna get the page dirty.”

“Make sure you eat one later then,” you tell him. “So you don’t die in a ditch before I can hire you out again.”

He snorts. “Didn’t realize peaches could make a man bulletproof.”

“Ah, well… it’s more of a superstitious thing, really. Like knocking on wood or throwing salt over your shoulder.” A hint of embarrassment creeps into your voice. For a moment you seem almost shy — but then you toss a peach up in the air and catch it again, like a performance of the world’s worst juggling act, and it passes. “You give people peaches for good health and a long life. Considering your line of work, I figure you need all the help you can get.”

“Figure a decent gun’ll do me more good than any peach ever will,” he says wryly. “You eat ‘em both. God knows you need the luck just as much as I do.”

———

The rippled light reflected in the water is only just beginning to tint gold. The horizon edges pale, shifting slow to the soft, warm shades of early evening. But only the faint suggestion of it, a subtle gradation filtering in imperceptibly at the present, but that he knows will flood in all at once with the inevitable trajectory of the sun.

Golden hour, Mason had called it. Goes quick, but it’s worth it. I’ve known some photographers to set up camp and wait all day for just that little window of time.

The landscape itself feels soft and heavy, almost drunk from its own perfect interplay of light and dark. The clarity of day dims to a suggestion of itself, and everything is briefly gilded, momentarily transfigured into something striking and achingly pretty, and you no exception.

A sliver of sunset settles over your skin. A veil of amber, a veil of rose, both colors folding in on themselves like silk. The glint of light that reflects across your irises makes visible the ridged corona circling your pupils, the tiny crenellations and impurities of color. Bright and sharp as cut glass.

He watches you bite into a peach, and its dusk-pink skin breaks beneath your teeth with a wet, crisp noise as you tear through to the soft and yielding flesh beneath. Then you bite down again, and your lips are shiny with nectar now, dripping with it.

A clear rivulet of peach juice runs down your wrist like blood. You raise your arm to your mouth to catch it, then trace it back to its source with your tongue, and he can’t help but wonder at the taste — the sweetness of fruit mixed with the salt of your skin.

“Oh, these are really good,” you say with pleasant surprise. “Sure you don’t want one?”

Arthur tries to suppress the sudden twinge of arousal running through his body by staring very hard at a tree. “I’m sure.”

When he’s finally able to settle himself to a manageable level of sexual frustration, he forces his attention back to sketching. He lays out the wash of sand and silt that lies liminal between woods and water, then the ridge of grass that marks the river’s reach when swollen with rain and spring melt. The twinned, twisted alders on each shore whose roots hold fast to the ground as their boughs reach over the water and towards each other, like doomed lovers. The gaptoothed boat hull half-buried and long abandoned.

By the time he’s finished, both peaches have been reduced to their pits, and the light has begun its transition to a deepening red. A last brief cry of sunlight before it’s stifled by the cold blue of evening.

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, when he hands the notebook back over. “If you finally get tired of robbing stagecoaches, you should do this for a living instead.”

He makes a dismissive noise, but there’s a clear look of satisfaction on his face. “You flatterin’ me because you want another favor?”

“No, I’m serious. This is pretty enough to belong in a book.” You touch your fingers to the page with the kind of care he’s only seen you lavish on the things he’s known you to hold very dear: the faded red hair ribbon, the well-thumbed guide to wildflowers, the thin jade pendant you sometimes wear tucked under your shirt… and now this — just an offhand scribble of his of no particular effort.

“I, uh… it’s a real rough sketch.” A flush of embarrassment colors his cheeks, and it’s obvious to anyone with eyes in their head that for him, compliments are a gift as rare as they are precious. “Next time you hire me out, I’ll sit down and draw you something proper.”

“I’d like that,” you say, and nod. “I’ll hold you to it.”

———

A few hours later, Arthur sits by the fire and tries to measure the exact depth of the idiocy he’s plunged himself into.

You’d gone to bed first, citing exhaustion. And he’d taken the time spent alone to jot down a few thoughts in his journal, attempt a handful of sketches, then inadvertently kindle in himself a desperate, hopeless need for intimacy so intense that, were he truly on his own, he’d not have hesitated to take himself in hand for relief.

It’s a foolish thing to do, encouraging his own infatuation like this. But the images are fresh in his head still and his hand itches to put them to paper, wanting to keep them somewhere beyond the whim of memory.

And so he traces with his pencil the soft, indulgent cast of your eyes as you’d cupped the peach in your hand, bringing it to your mouth with the simple decadence of Eve and her apple: the innocent gesture embodying something intensely sinful. Each bite near tangible in his blood, as though it were his heart in your teeth, its every painful beat an ache of barely suppressed impulse.

Then the drip of nectar down your wrist, the pink flick of your tongue lapping it up with a quick, smooth glide across your skin. Peach juice glistening on your lips like honey. And his own base reinterpretations of it all, distorting reality to innuendo and bringing to the surface things he’s only let himself imagine in the confines of his cot, with the tent flaps drawn tightly shut.

The weight of your thighs on his shoulders comes to mind again, and if he shuts his eyes he can nearly place himself into that oft-used fantasy of his — you, sat on the edge of a hotel bed with him knelt before you, whispering hoarse and breathless praise as he licks into you. Your fingers running through his dark blond hair as you speak to him like a favored pet.

The flat of his tongue running against your clit with slow, careful strokes. Your desperate whimpers as he draws the nub between his lips and sucks, the tremble of your body, the taste of your slick. The sound of his name on your lips, the syllables of it faint and shivery with pleasure.

And afterwards, the sight of you sprawled across the sheets, eyes dreamy and soft as you beckon him towards you. Take out your cock, you’d say. Show me just how much you liked doing that to me.

Arthur closes the notebook and walks down to the river. He dips his hands through its surface, the reflected moonlight there rippling into a bright mosaic of broken glass in his wake, then cups the cold water between his fingers and splashes it over his face.

“Dirty old man,” he mutters to himself. “Oughta be ashamed of yourself.”

When he reaches down to repeat the action, he brushes against sackcloth and automatically pulls the bundle of submerged peaches from the water.

Long life and good health, you’d said. He scoffs at the very notion of it. It’s a foreign concept for someone who’s taken so many lives that he’s all but guaranteed his own to be nasty, brutish and short.

And truth be told, it’s been a long time since he’s even bothered to think about any future for himself outside of the immediate. Not much to look forward to save the small, petty pleasures afforded to him, most of which have been bought with the blood of other men. Not much to work for, save the next big score. The promise of stability — it’s not a luxury afforded to the likes of him. Nor should it be, if a man’s fate really is weighed by his deeds.

He’s made his peace with it by now. Kept his expectations low and steered clear of personal commitments. So it’s really very stupid then, that he’s spent so much time nursing the seeds of his own wretched affection that they’ve already begun to sprout.

More and more these days, he’s caught himself marking down points of interest whenever he’s out wandering. Setting up the skeletons of future excursions in his head. And with each new meeting, the possibility of the next looms in him eager and expectant.

Arthur unwraps a peach from the sackcloth and brings it to his mouth. It’s sweet — sweeter than it has any right to be, growing as it has unattended and abandoned in that red Lemoyne dirt.

The cicada song has quieted to a whisper. Fireflies spiral in arcane patterns over the grass, blinking their silent messages through the dark. Night birds are calling, their sounds strange and strident over the rush of river water.

In the midst of all this, Dutch Van der Linde and all his talk of savage utopia seem further away than ever. More past than present.

He bites into the peach again and closes his eyes, savoring the taste. Long life and good health. Probably no more unfeasible than any other thing he’s had preached to him for the last twenty years. And not an unpleasant prospect, if the days spent are anything like this one.

No, he thinks to himself, pulling another peach from the bundle. Not a bad prospect at all.

[electricb00]

i wanna delete my emet sketches bcz they were so rough and fast and dirty and they dont reflect how i wanna draw him in the future BUT the limp wrist tags are SO FUNNY it makes me wanna keep the post.

[lilsuzn]

MLQC Lucien - NSFW abc headcanons

Sorry I was gone for so long. I was busy doing hot girl shit.

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen's Choice

Warnings: S.M.U.T.  (the reader is gender neutral, but I quote Lucien’s “silly girl” at one point so idk)

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

It’s probably because of this relationship you two have. One that Lucien thought he could never have.

Frankly, he didn’t really want one. Even with you.

But it was impossible to stop himself from jumping into that rabbit whole.

You are not even a human for him. You are far superior.

A goddess.

A greater being that must be worshiped. Cherished. LOVED THOROUGHLY and Lucien can't stop himself from doing all that.

He would help you clean up with so much care. Hold you like he’s about to lose you. Wisper praises and declarations of love into your ear.

Prefers to stay in bed, but wouldn’t mind to do it in a bath either.

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

He never really gave it much thought, but if you’d ask him, he would probably say - his neck.

Because he noticed how much attention you give it. That given a choice you would always kiss and bite on the neck.

And the unreformable tease he is - he loves your ears.

The way you twitch and squirm when he licks the or softly blows around them. The way you flush when he leans in to whisper directly to it.

All those small reactions get his blood pumping.

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

A big fan of cuming onto you.

Your ass is his staple favorite, but chest, stomach, back or… basically anywhere else is not bad at all either.

If he ever comes inside you without a condom… and gets to see his seed dripping out of you… IT’S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL CHANGE OF PERSPECTIVE FOR HIM.

Nothing can beat the look of his seed spilled on your pretty butt, BUT… damn that’s a nice sight.

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

He doesn’t believe that some deeds can be dirty or naughty.

He's a scientist. Explorer of human's brain. He knows that every single of those is a normal, human thing.

But given that we all know what is this question all about…

Lucien really liked to draw when he was a kid and he still does it from time to time.

And what else could he sketch in his free time if not the most beautiful creation of this world? You. Naked.

He has countless amounts of those at this point. Every part of you has a separate piece. He likes to go through them from time to time.

Meaning every day when you're not around.

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

Lucien is not a virgin but he had never been in a real relationship before you.

He had some one night stands. A few booty call relationships, but he had never been with someone the way he is with you.

So you were still a challenge, because he could not allow himself any shortcomings when it came to you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

That’s a spoiler for the future, but Lucien is more than willing to try everything and he doesn’t really feel any special bond with a particular position.

However he does have a particular group and if you remember what I said in C above, you know where I’m going.

From behind. Seeing your butt shake. He’s an ass man. (would love to try anal if you’d show an intrest in that)

Major bonus points if you turn your head to the side and look at him. With your lovely, beautiful face that he loves oh so much.

He instantly speeds up to the point that no man should ever reach and will happily carry you around for a day or two - you’ll need it.

Because after that there could never be only one round. Or even two or three.

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

I wouldn’t call it goofy.

It’s very intense. Almost in a spiritual sense.

For Lucien sex is a metter of high importance. There’s no room for fooling around.

He needs to focus, so afterwards you’re completely spent, blissed and fucked to the point where you could never enjoy sex with any other man.

Toxic trait of this cutesy otome boy - possessiveness, and although he won’t try to control what and with who you do... 

(the man has some dignity and respect for your autonomy)

He will make sure you won’t be able to forget who makes you feel so f*in' good and being ‘goofy’ won’t make the statement.

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

I think Lucien would be somewhat groomed, but not bold.

Shaving just isn’t natural and therefore necessarily good for one’s body.

Therefore, if you shave he might try to convince you to stop.

I want to touch a woman, not a girl - he would say.

Carpet matches the drapes (however I like to think that Lucien has ginger pubes dontjudgeme)

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

Said first in A, now will be more specific.

With Lucien sex is some kind of a ritual of worship.

It’s a sacrifice for his goddess. His energy, his time, his most attentive care.

Love beams from his eyes even stronger than light does from the sun.

The foreplay will be elongated. You need to come at least twice before he enters you (see T).

During he roams your body with his hands. Boldly, but not aggressively… unless you’d like it.

Afterwards… well, just read A again.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s a very busy man, so he doesn’t get many chances, but…

When he can he’s right at it… thinking of that pretty ass of yours.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lucien is quite kinky.

He's in for anything that doesn’t go under N conditions. Anything. 

Likes bondage. No. He loves it. On you. And blindfolds.

SPANKING.

DOM BOY, but wouldn’t mind to go sub from time to time for you.

You want you to submit thoroughly, so he can thoroughly please you. Give you all that can be given.

Lives for roleplaying.

He also is really into body worship. He will praise you to the point of incredibility. 

See T gir. It’s really an intense game.

Lives to hear you beg for him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He likes to be in a private, comfortable place, when he doesn’t have to worry about any interruptions or other inconveniences.

Best in your or his place.

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

First of all he really needs no convincing.

BUT.

The beast is awake momentarily when you wear his clothes. Like his sweater when you're cold. Or a shirt after a passionate night.

"You make a very nice sight indeed."

Other thing is lingerie. He likes it dark and erotic. Satin and straps. Maybe some nice, sheer mesh.

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

No humiliating one another.

Nothing that even comes close to making you feel like he might have attempted to disrespect you.

Also - no outsiders.

And no hiding one another's fantasies. He’s there to please and satisfy you. Don’t take it away from him.

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

Eghem.

Can you stay up all night

Fuck me till the daylight 

34+35

If you don't get it yet, it means he wants to 69 with you.

All night. Every night.

The taste of you in his mouth is heavenly.

The feeling and sight of your mouth enveloping his groin is pure ecstasy.

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

He doesn’t have much of a fav.

It all depends on his mood.

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

Meh...

It’s not like an unacceptable option, but he prefers delayed gratification.

Will agree if you insist, but won’t ever offer.

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

OF COURSE. YES. PLEASE.

Why would he ever limit himself to known and obvious, when there might be something far, far superior to what both of you already know.

He enjoys erotic literature. Sometimes reads online articles about interesting positions, toys or new ways to make you come harder and faster.

Won’t shy away from many things. Just remember about what I said in N.

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

This man rarely sleeps. Rarely even rests.

This man is a rabbit.

It's more likely you will pass out of exhaustion then that he will take a break from fucking you. Weather it's with his hands, dick, lips or… other things. 

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

Speaking of other things.

And fucking.

Lucien invested in a nice collection for the two of you. Vibrators. Rings. Suckers.

He likes to please you in every way he can. 

While the toys take care of you, you suck onto him.

Sometimes you just embrace yourself as the toys take care of your needs. And you go like this for hours. Until you can't take it anymore.

And let's not forget the bondage equipment. Ropes, handcuffs, blindfolds, gags, whips….

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Obvi. What did you expect?

A lot.

For hours.

Until all you’re able to say is “Lucien” and “Please”.

Edging is not negotiable. Happens every time. Often to the point when you come so fast and unexpectedly he just couldn’t stop on time.

Will talk dirty to your ear in public to then “accidently” stroke your nipple or if he feels particularly bold that day - your crotch.

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

Not shy at all. No shame.

Will moan, groan, pant and hiss all he wants and as loudly as he wants.

Let the neighbors hear. Why would he feel ashamed of fucking you?

LOVES when you do the same.

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

He would love to take you for a weekend trip. In the mountains. Renting a nice cottage.

Necessarily with a fireplace. And a jacuzzi.

He would have it decorated with many, many gleaming candles. Set all around the cottage.

The soothing music would play.

His fingers would play with your sex while you soak yourselfs in the jacuzzi.

Then he would lay you on a soft carpet in front of the fireplace and make love to you. True, unmistakable love.

It would be a trip to remember for the rest of your lives.

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

First off all, see this meme.

He just emanuates that massive dick energy. That’s just facts. No one in the bunch can relate. I’m sorry stans of the other 4, it’s not my fault, don’t @ me.

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

High. Very high sometimes.

Okay - usually very high, sometimes extremely high.

All nighters will happen at least once a week unless one of you really has a tough week or just had one and still tries to get everything together.

Otherwise no mercy. His lover needs to have all her needs fulfilled. Lucien would never allow you to walk around hungry or cold. Why would he let you be unsatisfied in this category, silly girl?

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not right away for sure. 

He wants to watch you fall asleep. And then see those cutest expressions you make in your slumber.

Sometimes he just grabs a book and holds your hand until you wake up.

Other times he isn't able to resist it and falls asleep. You in his arms. His world at peace.

[bonny-kookoo]

Carrots and Whiskers (JJK x Reader) 💜🔞🐾

🥕 Pairing: Rabbit!Jungkook x Wolf!Reader

🥕 Genre: Hybrid AU, fluff, smut because why not amirite-

🥕 Warnings: stereotyping, mild mentions of past bullying, fluff, oh god they’re so cute, Dom!Jungkook despite being technically food for Sub!Reader, Dirty talk, it’s sweet though he ain’t calling his baby a hoe don’t worry, unprotected sex because in this hybrid universe they’re unable to conceive due to their different species, please keep that in mind thank you, sweet sweet lovemaking, aftercare, buff boi JK, Big dick JK but what’s new I guess, yeah I’m done now

🥕 Summary: He’s the prey and she’s the predator. So why does she feel like the roles are reversed?

This is a oneshot! If you have any ideas for future content in this universe, feel free to send in asks or requests!

A reputation could easily define your entire life it it was bad enough.

Both sides knew this; Jeon Jungkook, being depicted as the cowardly prey hybrid he was, and Y/N, the bad bad wolf with always malicious intentions. However, none of these depictions were actually true.

Jeon Jungkook was an actually pretty rough and brave young man, never really backing down from a challenge, uncaring on who was in front of him. He got into trouble often as a kid, as a teenager, and now as a young adult.

Y/N was soft spoken, a caring yet quiet hybrid who liked to stay hidden, the spotlight being more of a fear than a goal for her. She loved the simple things in life, liked to be by herself or surrounded by people she trusted and loved.

And she also got a major crush on the bunny in her art and music class.

It was quite cliche really, yet it also wasn't- it was as if she was stuck in a bad joke, never to make it to the punchline. She knew for a fact that he probably didn't even knew who she was, and the worst part about it was that she couldn't even blame him. She loved to not be seen, after all.

"Uhm, excuse me?" Said the voice, forcefully hitting her as she looked up, her own eyes meeting the big brown orbs of-

wait.

"I eh, we're supposed to choose partners for this project, and I know for a fact that you can draw so eh, wanna be partners?" He asked, and she simply stared. Was he- talking to her? "I mean, Its okay if you don't want to-" He started, the squirrel hybrid girl behind him already perking up at her chance, making her swallow a bit.

"N-no, I uhm.. I'd like that." She squeezed out, voice quiet, but he thankfully still heard her. He smiled, brightly and so awfully cliche as his bunny-like teeth showed, sitting down next to her as he pulled out his sketches. "So uh, what did you have in mind.?" She quietly asked, and he talked away, as if he'd always known her.

"Well since we weren't given much other than the theme and colors, I made some small sketches. You know, I get Ideas that are pretty neat sometimes but then I forget them easily, so I have to draw or write them down right away, otherwise I'll wanna bite my own ass later on." He rambled on, gently moving the rough sketches towards her, his eyes watching her as she looked at them, carefully studying his lines.

"This- this one would fit, I think.." She mumbled, tapping on one of his more detailed drawings. He grinned again, nodding, seemingly in agreement. He attempted to say something as the bell rang, students around them both scrambling up to get out as soon as possible, either to catch a bus or to drive home on their bikes.

"Hey do you-" He stumbled, his foot catching on a stray chair as he almost fell. "Do you wanna meet up on the weekend? That way we can finish faster, you know, time to sleep in class." He said, and she simply nodded, until he held his hand out. Her head tilted to the side, ears flopping a bit as he chuckled, mumbling. "cute. Your phone, so I can give you my number?" He explained, and she blushed, stepping back a bit as she placed her bag down on the table next to her, pulling out her phone, charms on the device dangling, making him smile. She really was adorable. "Alright." He said as he took it after she'd opened the phone app, his fingers typing away, before he gave it back to her. "Do you take the bus home?" He asked, and she nodded. "Oh really? I thought the pink bike outside was yours actually." He chatted away as she walked next to him, now a bit shy.

"I actually.. well, I can't, you know, ride a bike, so.." She mumbled, and he laughed for a moment, until he went quiet, sensing that she was serious.

"I eh, I could you know, teach you, if you want?" He asked as he unlocked his own bike. "I mean, not now but like, this weekend?" He asked, and she looked a bit hesitant. "I mean, you don't have to. But I promise I won't let you get hurt." It seemed odd maybe, for a prey hybrid to say that to a predator, but for her, it seemed like the most cheesy and romantic thing she'd ever heard. So she smiled, and nodded. "I uhm.. I think your bus left-" He pointed out, making her ears droop as she watched the vehicle drive off without her. "I can bring you home. It's kind of my fault you missed it, after all." He said, scratching the back of his neck as he suddenly rumbled in his backpack, pulling out a zip hoodie, before folding it, and placing it on the bag of his bike. "My'lady." He offered, and she giggled, making his ears flinch in excitement.

She'd been unaware of him for long enough, and after a talk with his fellow friend Taehyung, he'd decided to finally act on his interest in her. Even though he did get some odd looks from his classmate Jimin, he didn't care about what she was- he cared more about who. Her drawings were always so detailed in a way that would show exactly what she'd though while creating each line, something he always found remarkable. She also had a talent for photography, a hobby he had for himself as well.

"Hold on tight okay?" He said, and she nodded, her arms moving around his waist, redness creeping onto her cheeks as she felt his toned body underneath his thin shirt and loose jean jacket. She held a bit tighter as he finally pushed the bike forward, paddling at a decent pace that made her hair flow a bit with the wind. She couldn't help but enjoy the moment; the way his smell calmed her, the scenery around her, and the fact that it seemed like everything was finally working out for her.

"I'm gonna let go now and you'll just-" He started, but she suddenly grew anxious, her wide eyes immediately finding his.

"no no don't let go I'm gonna fall-" She scrambled out, scared as he simply laughed, one hand on her back as he kept the other on the bike for now.

"I promised, didnt I?" He hummed into her ear, and she blushed at the gentle tone of his voice. He was everything she never thought a prey hybrid would be; he was cunning, brave, and confident in himself. He wasn't after attention at all, simply trying to live his life yet he pulled everyones gaze on himself wherever he went simply by nature. His ears seemed too soft to be legal in her opinion, black and white tuft of fur that was his tail seemingly completely out of place; the rest of his body was toned. It showed that he knew how to take care of himself, it underlined the way he held himself wherever he went.

He was the complete opposite of her it seemed.

She liked to hide in oversized clothing, hybrid features the only thing really giving away that she wasn't just a mouse in disguise.

To him however, it was an entirely different story.

She was so sweet, always trying to help, and always trying to not be a burden. She had so much talent, a unique way of seeing the world, and a gentle way of always looking out for others. It also didn't ease his crush on her that she was absolutely beautiful in his eyes; shorter in statue than him, surprisingly, but he was pretty tall for a rabbit hybrid, he had to admit. His mother had once told him about the different subspecies of wolves when she'd noticed his crush on the girl; her best friend having been a wolf hybrid as well when she'd still been in school. Apparently there were different subtypes for them; alphas, betas and omegas. He guessed that the girl on his bike was an omega, maybe, as it would explain all her characteristics.

"You're doing so great!" He said, bunny smile making her feel more confident as she noticed he only held her by her back; she was actually riding a bike. "See? You can do it!" He happily exclaimed as he helped her off, seat a bit high for her to get down herself. "Lets sit down there and exchange some sketches, yeah?" He offered, and she nodded with a smile, walking next to him as they both sat down on the grass, after Jungkook had put down a small blanket he'd taken with him. "Okay, hit me." He playfully shot her way, as she pulled out her sketchbook, simply sliding it towards him as he opened it, looking through the pages she'd opened for him. "Uah, these are great! I'd use a bit more color on these ones, but the rest is awesome!" He mumbled in thought as he proceeded to change the page, his eyes widening at a familiar pair of eyes, when two delicate hands held his wrist in place.

"Pl-Please uh, that's not for the project eh-" She stuttered, panic evident in her voice as her red face and tilted ears gave away her embarrassment. He simply stared for a moment, before his other hand simply loosened her grip on his wrist, freeing himself without much force. He slowly turned the page, revealing multiple rough sketches of..

Him.

It was him, not very detailed, but clearly visible. Small scenarios were drawn on the page, him staring out the open window of the classroom as he talked to friends, him at the sidelines of his basketball game as he'd taken a break, or him asleep on his desk during class. He studied the drawings, noticing how she'd not cared much about his clothing, or the background; even the desk or the window weren't really drawn very realistically, simply a fast sketch. What did stand out was.. well, his face. The way the sun reflected in his eyes, how his ears had been slightly damp from the slight rain outside, or the tiny things he would've never thought she'd notice about him, like the tiny beauty mark under his lower lip, the slight scar just above his cheek, or how the sides of his eyes crinkled when he laughed, nose scrunched up.

As he looked up she was looking down, hair hiding her eyes as her ears were flat against her skull, tail in her hands, which nervously fiddled with the fur. "I-" He started, before he began to open his own bag, ruffling around in it as his own ears lowered themselves while he tried to find something. "Hah!" He exclaimed in victory, hands sliding off the rubber band of his own folder which kept his messily organized sketches and finished works. He rummaged through them, before he started to lay some of them out in front of her, one by one. Slowly, her ears turned, attention on what he'd put down in front of her.

He always had a different way of drawing things, not really putting a lot of effort into the outlines or sketches themselves; but he had a way of coloring things, a unique style that made things feel almost alive. In every picture, he'd dedicated most of his effort to color the fur of her hybrid features almost perfectly- he also payed special attention to her postures in every picture. He never drew her eyes however- which she noticed. "I uhm.. I've never got the chance to see them up close, so I had a bit of trouble with them.." He explained. "I've noticed you pretty early when we shared our first classes together.. But I never really got around to talk to you. You and Namjoon-Hyung always seemed so close, I thought.." He revealed, scratching behind his own ear as he suddenly felt a bit bashful.

"You.. I mean, Joonie is a good friend but we uh.." She started, voice a bit low as she laughed a bit.

"I know, I know, he told me-" Jungkook answered, now chuckling. "Thats why I immediately took my chance when they'd announced the group project." He said. "It gave me a chance to you know, get to know you better. Get closer, you know?" He explained, and she nodded. "So uh.." He mumbled, before he smiled at her hopefully. "Wanna uh- get cake together today? Like a date?" He asked, and she nodded, making him suddenly jump up as he fist bumped the air, making a passerby elderly couple laugh. "Yes!"

"Carrot cake?" She asked, an almost teasing smile on her lips as he looked at her.

"What? Don't judge puppy!" He said, making her scoff scandalized.

"Hey, I'm a wolf, not a dog!" She explained as she stirred her milkshake with her pink straw before grabbing the spoon from her small metal plate.

"And I'm a rabbit, not a bunny. So guess we're even." He said, before his smile faded a bit, eyes stuck to the spoonful of whipped cream which made its way inside her mouth, tongue darting out to lick her lips clean before she noticed his gaze. He snapped out of it, suddenly the one growing a bit shy. "You uh.. wait, lemme just-" He mumbled, hand moving to wipe the corner of her mouth as he licked his finger clean himself, making her eyes widen before she mumbled a 'thanks' under her breath. He grinned.

"So uh-" He asked, pushing down his small cake fork to pick up a piece of cake, holding it out towards her. "open up?" He asked, and she hesitated a bit, before leaning forward a bit, lips parting. He placed the piece into her mouth, watching as she closed her lips, accepting his offering of food before she nodded her head approvingly. "See? Don't judge before you try!" He exclaimed, and she giggled at that.

He was right.

"I'm absolutely beat." He suddenly exclaimed, falling down onto the mattress laying on the ground in the corner of the new, unfurnished bedroom. The wolf hybrid sat down next to his sprawled out form, gently moving his blonde tipped hair away from his eyes. He'd dyed it months ago, his roots more than visible at this point, yet he'd simply decided to let it grow. "Come here~!" He playfully demanded, hands reaching out for her as he pulled her down with him, happily humming when she was laying on his chest. "Can you believe we're actually gonna live together from now on?" He asked, and she shook her head, moving around a bit so she straddled him, sat on his thighs as he suddenly watches her with hooded eyes, hands on her hips as his thumbs move in circles over the skin underneath her sweater- his sweater. "Hm.. I mean.." He offered, suddenly moving to sit up, changing position as she's now underneath him, his hair tickling her face slightly when he begins to kiss against her pulse. "I was about to ask if we should at least put up the bedframe, but having a mattress on the floor.." He started, hands wandering underneath the clothing of his she wore as he continued in a low voice. "..means I can't break the bed this time." He said, and she giggled at that, remembering the time their time together had been roughly interrupted by the weak frame of his old bed breaking. "Oh, my puppy thinks that's funny?" He wonders, making her grin as he kissed her deeply.

Moments like these made her almost forget the stereotypes she'd grown up with during her live- since Jungkook was nothing like the typically depicted rabbit hybrids. Because right now the roles seemed completely reversed, as he mouthed at her neck, feeling her pulse race as he continued to map out her body with just his hands, no need to watch where they were, able to seemingly paint a picture of her by touch at this point. Clothes suddenly seemed to tight, itchy, as if bitten by a mosquito. She whined as he chuckled darkly, helping her out of his sweater as he immediately grabbed her breasts, kneading them before he continued to undress her, making quick work of her shorts as he pulled down her underwear as well- her already glistening center clinging to the damp fabric of her underwear as she squirmed, making him humm in appreciation. He pulled his own shirt over his head as well, revealing his body to her as the sun outside painted glowing stripes onto it, the blinds drawing patterns on her skin as well. He finally freed himself from the confines of his own underwear as well, standing proud and ready as she became restless.

"Hm, puppy wants to be filled up yeah?" He asked with a teasing undertone, proudly making use of the privilege to be able to call her that- since she hated it when others did it. It was the same the other way around however; typically, being called a 'bunny' was an absolute insult to him, but for some reason it seemed like a cute nickname coming from her. Maybe he was just whipped. Or maybe she was just privileged as well.

He entered her slowly as he sighed alongside her, not wasting any time as he fell into rhythm, hips thrusting forwards as her hands reached for his, intertwining their fingers as he felt his soul warm up at the gesture. He felt so loved, so cherished, it made him fear for his heart, as he swore it stopped every time he was close to her like this. He felt complete, like he'd found his soulmate, his other half- it didn't matter to him what she was. Sure, his parents were a bit dissapointed since they couldn't have kids naturally because of this, but they both could always adopt in the future. Thinking about it made his heart swell as he thought about her, caring for their kids, making this small apartment into a family home one day. Maybe it was instinct, but he'd already been driven nuts by the way she'd helped him choose furniture and wallpaper for the small living space they'd be sharing; the simple fact that she wanted to make their apartment into a home feeding his inner instincts to build a home to keep her safe in.

He felt her legs shake a bit as he shifted a bit, making her whine as he suddenly picked up his pace, sweat already slowly beginning to coat his skin as he didn't seem to notice how the sound of skin against skin still echoed in the almost empty room since it lacked furniture- but it didn't matter for now anyways. They'd both fill it with things and memories of the both of them, and he couldn't wait for it. He huffed a bit as he moved, leaning down a bit to rest his forehead against her neck as she bared it for him, a natural instinct of hers to submit to him even if he was of another species with no need of such gestures. He'd adapted to it however, gently biting the skin as he felt her shiver underneath him, a sign that she was getting close. "Hm my baby wanna cum?" He asked, gently beginning to tease her as she nodded, eyes closed in bliss. "You want a knot huh?" He asked, and she shook her head no, as he chuckled. He'd felt a bit insecure the first few times around as he knew how things worked for canine hybrids, worried that he maybe couldn't give her what she wanted or needed, yet she'd always reassured him. Now it was more like a teasing thing for him, and a way to tickle a praise out of her- a way of reminding himself that she loved him just as much as she did her. "No? You don't?" She shook her head again, her fingers holding his hands tighter. "What do you want then, huh?" He asked with a grin as she whined.

"You- you, only want ngh.. only need Kookie-!" She pressed out, and he hummed approvingly, his thrusts beginning to grow sloppy as he neared his end.

"That's right, only me, only mine, yeah?" He asked, and she nodded, suddenly opening mouth as her head buried itself into the mattress below her, clenching around him as he groaned out, burying himself deep inside her as he spilled. "Thats it, take it like a puppy- good girl!" He praised, making her whine as he leaned his body down, kissing her neck, her throat, and then her lips as they both calmed down from their highs, breathing slowly growing more and more even as he moved a bit to grab a box as he slid it towards him, rummaging through it before he took out a roll of kitchen towels, grabbing a few as he slipped out of her, carefully catching his release and her own juices as to not make a mess. He had a gentle smile on his face as he carefully cleaned her up before he stood, walking towards another box where he pulled out a large pillow and a few blankets, instincts taking over as he began to cover her now rapidly cooling body in soft fabrics before cuddling up next to her, pulling another blanket over his own form as he made sure his partner was comfortable. She slipped out of her makeshift blanket burrito to invite him in, making him grin his signature bunny smile as he held her close, skin on skin as he closed his eyes, the only light in the room the streetlamps outside.

This already felt like home.