#i wanted to draw her with the sharp teeth but mouth hard to draw

[bodaciousbird]

Guess who finished punk hazard!

[shotmrmiller]

Simon is enthralled by you, John Price's cat. Oh, how beautiful you look on all fours, rubbing your face on his jeans. How lovely the mews that spill from your lips sound— music to his ears.

He grabs you by the hips to lift you onto his lap, mindful of your tail and brushes his covered nose against your cheeks. "Aren't you just precious?" Simon lifts his mask enough to expose his lips and nips the tip of your human ear. "I wonder if this pretty kitten has a pretty pussy, too," he softly says. Your half-lidded eyes look at John, who's chosen to be just a spectator tonight.

"You heard him, kitten. Show Simon what he's asking for." The bell in your collar clinks as you lift to turn yourself around in his lap, and he grabs your waist with his large hands to assist. "Careful, I don't want you falling off and getting hurt." Simon extends his long, thick legs which gives you a bit more space to work with.

Keeping your knees together, you place your bare, dainty feet on each shoulder, and with a trembling exhale, your knees drop open.

Simon intakes a sharp breath through his teeth at the sight of your glistening cunt spread open— a flower in full bloom. The grip on your waist tightens to what should be considered pain, but to you is just acute pleasure.

"She's a fuckin' sight, sir," he admires without looking up. He drags a blazing trail with his fingers from your waist to your mons, pad of his thumb hovering over your swollen, slippery clit. "I'm curious, though, kitten," You look at him, cheeks flushed, and answer him with a tiny little mewl. "I'm curious if you'll purr for me, too," and draws agonizingly slow circles, that is exactly what you want, yet not enough. The whimpers slithering out of your throat make his cock achingly hard, and if you turned around, you'd see a sizeable tent in John's trousers too.

John's voice is thick with arousal as he says, "She likes it when you let saliva dribble from your mouth onto her pussy, isn't that right, kitten?"

You bob your head, mouth open, a bit of drool at the corner of your mouth. Simon's touch is magical. You've got liquid fire in your veins, every precise circle rubbed onto your nub tightens that coil in your lower stomach, and when he spits onto your pussy, the warm glob of spit that lands directly on your clit almost has you coming from it alone.

Simon notices how your hips start moving on their own, picking up speed, forcing more friction on your clit when he stops touching you, removing all stimulation. The keen you let out is primal, a high-pitched whine. "Oh, I know, I know," he coos at you, "I just gotta ask your owner for permission, s'all."

He tips his head to the side, looking over your shoulder, and nods. John must've agreed to whatever he's thinking because Simon's dark eyes gleam as they meet yours, a feral, toothy smile on his lips.

Simon taps your hips lightly and orders, "Hips up." Your feet lower from his shoulders to flatten on the couch— thighs spread wide from how broad, how wide his body is. Your hands rest on his knees behind you, and you rest your weight on them to lift up. Simon lets out a snarl and completely hooks your knees over his shoulders forcing your arms to give way. Your head lolls on his thighs, upper body almost completely upside down, and his hands cup your arsecheeks—mindful of the tail— and raise. What—

His warm, wet tongue licks through puffy lips, and flicks at your clit. The arousal that had waned comes back, and it comes back harder, faster, more intense. He's eating you like you're his last meal, and now you definitely sound like a cat, albeit a dying one.

Simon gives your bud a suck and your neck cranes back at the sensation, and that's how you see John, upside down, leaning back, one arm on the backrest holding his drink— the other stroking his cock through his trousers. He looks—

A sharp slap to your arse has your spine curling, legs tightening around Simon's half-covered face, stubble prickling into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. "Eyes on me, kitten."

Your spine curves and you realize that you can see Simon, his dark eyes locked onto yours, and that he can see you. You wanted to care about the unflattering angle he's got you in, but it all melts away when his mouth opens wide to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit, and his lip is curled on one side, so you can see his unnecessarily pointy canine.

Once Simon realizes he's got your full attention, he eats. Unrelenting as he chases your climax like it was his own. The pulse of your heartbeat is deafening in your ears, your vision darkens as he forcibly drags you to your finish line, and with one final lap at your stiff bud, he tugs on your tail, and you burst.

Mind-numbing pleasure sweeps through your body, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing into you, prickling at your nerve endings, leaving you a shaky, slobbering mess on his thighs.

Simon doesn't even give you a moment, doesn't grant you reprieve because, within seconds, he's manhandling you and sinking you down onto his massive cock, spearing you in half, stretching your soaked channel to its absolute limit. It burns, it stings and yet the only thing that comes out of your mouth is an airy moan.

"Atta girl. Your pussy's suckin' me in like it wants to keep me in it forever," and his head tips back as he groans, "You're squeezing me so tight, m'not gonna last."

John's gruff voice comes from behind you, commanding. "Then don't, Simon. Fill her up."

Simon's answering smile is, honestly, a bit scary. He looks like the predator he becomes on the battlefield, the one who snuffs out life like a fire on a candle wick. Vicious, cruel, ruthless.

"Yes, sir."

He spreads his thighs, feet flat on the floor, and picks you up with his forearms, only to bring you back down on his cock. Impaling you. The tip of his cock is hitting so deep, you vaguely wonder if the flared head is being pinched by the tiny hole of your cervix. He's destroying you, but at no point in time does it ever turn into physical pain. Simon is using you like a pocket pussy, yet is angling your hips to hit your sweet spot. And oh so sweet it is, because it takes you exactly seven (7) thrusts of his hips to make you come around him, frothy, milky essence coating his cock.

"Fuckin' hell, pet. Fuckfuckfuckfu—" and he brings you down harshly, grinding his hips up, as he shoots rope after thick rope of cum into you.

Simon's exposed chin is dripping sweat, as he pants harshly in front of you, trying to catch his breath. Your body begins to slump tiredly when you feel your tail being caressed, beard scratching your neck as John peppers your damp neck with kisses.

"It's my turn now, isn't it." The bell on your collar chimes as John pulls you to kneel on the floor, face pressed in near Simon's softening member. Faintly, a zipper opens, and the swollen, long length of John's cock pushes into you, pushing out Simon's cum, dripping down your abused cunt to make space for him.

"Mewl for me, kitten," and grabs you by the hair, craning your neck to look up at Simon, who's gazing down at you with heavy-lidded eyes. He curls two fingers underneath your collar, restricting your breathing, and says, "Go on. Let us hear you."

what a delightful day to be John Price's cat

[senseichaos]

Hey, can you have a Lucifer going down on a female reader until she’s completely over stimulated? Trying to push him away, him using his magic to keep her still that sorta think? TIA🤤

Your wish is my commannndddd!

IMAGINE

"Amh.. Luci s'.." Your words get swallowed up by another moan that goes through your body, legs trembling as Lucifer's hand keeps them open with a strong grip. A blush goes over your face when his eyes peek up at you as he works his tongue against your clit, circling the sensitive bud at a tantalizing pace that makes you go dizzy.

You pull your blanket to your face, lower lip trembling as the pleasure from Lucifer's tongue continues to go through you. Gasping, you feel Lucifer's tongue dip into your hole, the pleasure from the action causing you to squirm and whimper loudly in an embarrassed pleasure.

"Duckling.." you hear him mumble into you, the vibrations causing you to continue trembling. "It's not nice having you squirm when I'm treating you, hm? Remember this is a punishment," oh you remember all right. You'd accidentally ripped a hole in one of Lucifer's expensive shirts, he wasn't mad (he's never mad) but he was definitely looking for that opportunity to punish you all the same; his punishment was simple, he was going to eat you out as many times and make you cum as many times as he pleases.

So far, he is doing a fucking good job at doing just that.

"Sorry! It's just so dirty.."

He chuckles, the vibrations making your cunt clench around nothing.

"That's just how I like it, silly duck. Now stay still for me, hm?" He asks, and under his soft yet authoritative gaze nodding without any thought but his beautiful lips as they kiss against your clit.

as Lucifer laps his tongue against your clit whilst his fingers massage into your thighs, you feel your first high begin to tighten inside of you. Once again feeling your body tremble as you bite your lower lip, closing your eyes shut tightly whilst Lucifer puts his oral skills to good use. You press the sheets to your mouth, letting out a high pitched whimper when your thighs threaten to close around Lucifer's head. He doesn't allow it, though; he makes sure to keep your thighs open nice and wide for him even if that means using a large amount of force.

"Lucifer! Careful or m'!" You moan, the knot in your stomach itching to unravel your orgasm.

"Mhm?"

"M' gonna cum!" You cry, and Lucifer chuckles, nibbling his sharp teeth against your clit as his tongue draws circles against it. With that movement you are inched to your high, the knot inside of you unraveling so hard you squirt a little. But Lucifer doesn't stop, he continues to eat you up, taking what he wants from your choicest of fruits. He doesn't care that you squirted on his chin, he doesn't care that tears are beginning to fall down your cheeks, he continues to lap up all of you. He's determined to do as he chooses.

"Daddy! S'too much..!"

Lucifer laughs, sucking against your swollen clit for a moment before withdrawing, mouth pressed to your mount. "Well, you should have considered that before ripping Daddy's shirt, hm? Be a good duckling or I'll make you cum even more than I plan," He says, a sadistic glint in his eyes as he kicks a long strip against your entire pussy.

"But I'm gonna fall asleep.." you whine, holding the sheets of the bed to yourself tightly. You try to push him away, you really do! Even going as far as to shock him on the arm with your (weak) powers. Though, this all doesn't appease Lucifer. If anything it makes him more ravenous to eat all of what he can from your pussy. This all amounts to his own powers keeping you still, a throb of a sort of ache-y pain entering you.

"Well if you do, I guess I'll just keep going. I didn't teach you to resist punishments like this, little ducky.."

Once again, he dips his tongue into your hole, fucking his tongue into you for a moment before going back to teasing your clit. It just goes like that, he'll suck, bite, lick your clit and then fuck you open with your tongue.

You can't even begin to recall how many times you came. 5? 8? 10!!?? By the time you awoke your pussy felt moderately used. And yet it was all worth it when you awoke nestled against Lucifers chest, his light snores filling your ears.

(not proof read!)

[hoeforhao]

RED AND CREAM ✨️🧨🎈🩸Wonwoo Oneshot

pairing : military official wonwoo × fem!reader

genre : pwp, pure smut

warnings : mention of blood, unprotected sex ( wrap it up guys ) , creampie, abusive talks, minors DNI

author's note : so umm I kind of wrote this smut for someone but then thought why not post it with wonwoo in mind. Bear with the he(s) pls.

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

As he stood there looking at her with dark clouded eyes with his hair all messed up from the intense fight, blood dripping down his knuckles onto his black boots, she saw the devil in him. The devil staring at her, telling her that he has finally came for his daughter. That he has finally found his worthy offspring to spread his bloodied rays into the world.

Stepping close to him, she looks into his red burning eyes as if she's gonna light him up on fire that very moment, as if she's going to draw out those popping veins in his eyes with her red nails.

Pushing his legs apart with hers she stands between them with her black heels on while her hands take his fist in hers and gently swipe off the blood off of them with her fingers and put them into her craving mouth, gently sucking onto them as if giving him the temptation of how she would treat his dick so good yet so rough between her cavities.

All this time her knees move up and down his already tightening up crotch, sometimes pushing it a bit too hard earning muffled up moans from him. Because he's a man. He cannot show how weak and needy his woman is making him feel now. Being done with sucking off all of his enemy's blood and injecting it into her system, her hands now move upto his neck to hold it tight and firm in place while her lips curve up into a satanic smile.

She quickly brings her mouth up to the bone protruding so prominent out of his neck and instantly plants her teeth onto the skin, pulling it with her canines making tears swell up in his eyes from the intense sting.

"If you thought I'll let his blood infuse into kine and make me impure, you're so wrong honey. I'll make sure that yours takes control on his and completely overpowers him. I want to see you overpower each and every individual on the face of this planet and be at the very top" and with that she bites into his skin at animalistic force and draws out blood like a vampire feasting on its meal after ages. As if a blood thirsty demon got the first taste of vanilla sweet blood burning with rage finally on her lips, all the while he cannot touch her or do anything to her because he was pinned down.

But she very well knew that she would be overturned in a minute if he truly tried for it. Having had enough of his woman being a brat he finally engulfed her legs by his and pushed her down onto the floor. He stood tall before her, while she lay on the cold marble with a sinister smirk knowing quite well what was coming next.

Bending down to her level the very first instinct he had was to rip off ever piece of clothing from her body, making her completely naked infront of the beast that was now to feast on the vulnerable little prey infront of him. Having his legs placed on both sides of her shaking ones, he took her lips in his. And no it was not a gentle kiss at all. It was a hungry, desperate one. One to prove how he will always have the upper hand over her, how she will just be a playtoy under him.

While his teeth pulled onto her lower lips, popping the slender veins there making blood drip down the corner of her mouth, his hands played with her boobs. More appropriately abused them. His nails drew deep and sharp around her supple jiggly skin, leaving behind deep rooted tracks of his invasion onto her body and soul and mind.

Shifting from her lips, he now focuses on slapping the living shit out of her breasts, earning constant pleas of mercy from her, knowing that the undertone in them was nothing but her asking for more brutality.

When he's finally done abusing her chest, leaving it all red with his hand prints, as if something turns in him and he gently places his mouth on her nipples and suckles onto it like a child feeding on his mother. But oh well isn't his entire persona deceiving? While his mouth work like a complete gentleman around her mounds, his fingers find her throbbing clit and aggressively rubs it's like it's some sort of enemy he needs slain down.

Her eyes rolled from the intense pain and pleasure that her body was feeling at the same time. She licks off her own blood from her mouth and slightly pushes up her head as if to see what is happening to her bare body, only to find that it's a red hill down there. Every part of her skin is burning aflame. And in that very painful moment, he quickly unzips the tent in his pants and brings out his rock hard dick to now graze up and down her sloppy cunt.

Never giving her the pleasure to feel him inside her, while she claws out his toned back, he slaps the tip of his dick onto her throbbing pussy and sometimes teases her hole with it by pressing it a bit down and taking it out immediately. Not being able to take the torment anymore she takes things into her hand and harshly slaps him across the face.

That was his last string. How dare a bitch have the audacity to slap a man like him. And with that he presses himself in her in seconds without any warning, without giving her the time to even adjust to him.

"You wanted it so bad you whore hmm? How you like daddy's dick tearing up your walls into shreds now huh" he runts into her soft delicate hole like a complete animal gone feral, like a tiger getting a good meat after days.

He could see tears rolling down her eyes onto the floor from his intense thrusts, him completely ruining her pussy for the new few days so that she remembers he is who she belongs to, every inch of her body belongs to him and is only for him to ravish and eat and feast on.

With one more push down her cunt, he feels his high riding him as he releases all his anger, frustration into her, making his cum ooze out of her swelled up walls, mixed with some traces of blood from the intense abuse.

[pasukiyo]

I CAN SEE YOU

bodyguard!leon scott kennedy x f!popstar!reader word count; 1,381 warnings; p in v sex, that's about it lol, maybe angst if you squint summary; leon doesn't believe he's good enough for you. but even he can't resist when he has you up against the wall of a storage closet five minutes to showtime...

 “Five minutes to show time!”

 “Has anyone seen her?”

 “Where is she?”

 Her lips parted in a gasp as she etched crescent moons into his shoulders through the black muscle tee, toes curling as her legs snaked around his waist, trapping him in closer. A hand slithered its way to the hair at the nape of his neck, her head falling forward to press her lips against the shell of his ear, feeling him shudder as he rocked his hips into her. 

 “We shouldn’t…” Leon groaned and muttered a sharp “fuck!” when she clenched around him, drawing him in closer. He couldn’t pull away even if he wanted to. “…we shouldn’t be doing this.”

 She mewled beside his ear at a particularly rough thrust, curling her fingers around a fistful of dark blonde ringlets at his nape and tugging. Leon pulled his face away from her shoulder, his dark sea of blue surging into her gaze like a comet colliding into a planet. Despite his words, Leon’s fingertips burrowed further into the flesh of her hips, her skin swelling with bruises as he drove his cock harder into her, impossibly deeper all the while. They’d only five more minutes to finish, and there’d be no way Leon would be able to do his job if he didn’t get his release now. 

 “When will you quit acting so noble?” She managed to ask between gasps and stifled moans, nuzzling the bridge of her nose against his. “Like you don’t want this as much as I do?”

 Leon hissed a string of curses through his teeth and she caught his lips with hers before he could drop his forehead to her shoulder again. Leon groaned into her mouth, allowing himself to be lost in the battle between their tongues for a moment, for just a second. Her smile was a crescent against his mouth and she leaned forward, hoping to deepen the seal of their lips before he pulled away, panting as he pistoned himself as deep inside of her as he could go, driving her back up the wall in the process. 

 “Leon!” She gasped, brows knit in pleasure as his hips stilled, the head of his cock pressed so hard against the spongey spot inside of her that she was seeing stars. 

 “You smeared your lipstick,” he replied simply and she peeled her eyelids back open just as Leon reached out with his thumb, wiping at the smeared makeup on the side of her mouth. Her bottom lip quivered at his touch and Leon peered up at her through hooded lids, sweat beading his hairline and chest heaving in rhythm with his breath. 

 For a moment, all was silent. For a moment, they only looked at each other, the moment so tender and intimate and such a stark difference from just a few seconds ago. Her heart swelled in her chest the longer she looked at Leon and she let her hands fall from around his neck, to his shoulders, to the chest of his dark ‘BODYGUARD’ muscle tee. She could feel his heart pound beneath her fingertips, beating to the same rhythm as hers. Leon’s bottom lip twitched, as if words hung on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be released until they were interrupted by a sound coming from outside the storage closet door. 

 “TWO MINUTES TO SHOWTIME! WILL SOMEBODY PLEASE FUCKIN’ FIND HER BEFORE I LOSE MY GODDAMN MIND?”

 She released the breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding in and Leon blinked, bowing his head down between her legs where they were connected, the base of his cock glistening with her slick. He inhaled a shaky breath as she used her legs around his waist to draw herself in closer, wrapping her arms back around his neck. Leon gazed down at her with those enigmatic eyes that held the darkest of oceans, so inviting, she found herself diving in nearly every time she looked at him. 

 “Kiss me?” She asked, shuddering as she inhaled. Leon’s gaze softened, eyebrows furrowed as he cupped her cheek with one strong hand, holding onto her elbow with the other. He drew her lips back into his where they belonged, beginning to rock his hips into hers again as their tongues danced around one another. 

 Warmth flooded her cheeks as he picked up his pace, his thrusts harder and more purposeful than they were only a moment before. Her lips parted in a gasp, breaking their kiss as her forehead fell onto his, tears brimming the outskirts of her sockets. 

 “Leon, I’m so close,” she whispered, mewling as that knot tied deep in the pit of her stomach began to shudder, ready to shatter. Leon nodded against her forehead, a soft curse tumbling from his full, pink lips. “I know,” he murmured back, his grip on her elbow tightening as he thrusted again and again and again, certain to leave a bruise on her cervix. 

 She could feel tears tip over the glassy barrier in her sockets as bliss washed over her body, her toes curling, her muscles twitching, legs shaking. Leon cursed again as he, too, met his end, hot spurts of his cum filling her up in ropes, painting her white. 

 “ONE MINUTE TO SHOWTIME!” She could hear someone yell from outside the door and despite her aching limbs and her sobbing pussy, she softly pushed Leon away just as he snapped her panties back into place. She mewled when the material hit her sore clit, a quiet “sorry” falling from his lips as he worked his pants back up his thighs.

 She fixed her stage outfit and Leon helped her down from the shelf he had fucked her into, helping adjust the strap of her top on her shoulder. She looked up at him and after a moment, he met her stare. 

 “Well?” She said. “Do I look okay?”

 “THIRTY SECONDS TO SHOWTIME!”

 The corner of Leon’s lips curved into a soft smile, the most tender she swore she’d ever seen him look before, “you look like a star.”

 Lights blinded her as she rose from beneath the stage, the crowd like an echo behind her earpieces. She sang the first note into her microphone, closing her eyelids shut as the bass rumbled in her chest. She was on the stage now, a limelight finding her as she faced the sea of screaming fans and phone lights. 

 “You brush past me in the hallway and you don’t think I, I, I can see you, do you?” she sang the opening line, swaying her hips to the beat, pointing into the crowd as she pranced upon the stage. The ache between her legs was still evident but she pushed thoughts of sex and Leon to the side, letting herself be swayed and taken away by the music. 

 She sang lyrics she remembered writing deep into the night in a dimly-lit hotel room after Leon had forced himself out of her bed to leave, insisting he was no good for her and she deserved better. The memory of that night still haunted her, especially when she sang these lyrics. 

 “But what would you do if I went to touch you now?” She sang low into the mic, snapping her palm against her hip to the soft beat. “What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a… so-ow-ound?”

 She made her way to one side of the stage as she sang the beginning of the chorus, eyeing the edge of the platform where she knew Leon would be, his back turned to face the crowd. 

 “And I could see you up against the wall with me. And what would you do, baby, if you only knew?” Her lips curved into a smile against the microphone as she stared into the back of Leon’s dark blonde hair. “That I can see you.”

 Although his back was to her, she still had the premonition that he knew she was right behind him. She brought her mic down to her hip and turned, hair whipping behind her as she began a slow strut to the other side of the stage. 

 She had the strange feeling that he knew she could see him. 

a/n; so here's another fic i've had drafted since literally july and only just now got around to finishing it LMAO my first leon fic! i've been wanting to write for this man for years now but only just now got around to it...

TAGLIST;

@bxbyyyjocelyn

@chaoticevilbakugo

@luckypurins

@corruptcoder

[son1c]

in a fit of what i can only describe as "pure madness," i wrote this entire thing from 12AM to 4AM last night. it's for 10verse. it's related to these drawings. i hope you like it

RETURN TO SENDER

Plants roared in the great forest of Boscage Maze. Not literally, of course. They didn't have mouths. But as vines whipped and branches slashed, sending a flurry of poisonous leaves exploding in every direction, one could be fooled.

Sonic and his friends-who-weren't-his-friends had to be mindful of jagged wooden teeth as they reached down from the treetops to snap at them. While passing by one such monster, Whirley nearly lost an ear, but was saved by Windthrow. It was hard work navigating the dangerous forest, but between Sonic's spindashes and Thorn Rose's hammer, they managed to bash their way through the foliage and into the deepest part of the Boscage.

This made the plants angry. Since they'd connected with a mind greater than their own, they'd learned how to feel. And now, the hive buzzed with its collective rage as it convulsed its million limbs.

Thorns shot out from the brush like arrows. Prim had to fold in her wings and drop down to avoid becoming Swiss cheese. Although, maybe that would've been preferable to the dirt and bugs crawling on the forest floor. She stuck her tongue out in distaste.

But it was too late to turn back now.

The heart of the Boscage was just up ahead--that much was obvious to Sonic. Sure, it was just as green as the rest of the forest, but the way the vines weaved around each other, creating a tangled nest of knotted foliage gave it away. That, and the sickly light of the Green Prism Shard leaking through the cracks.

With the killer plants hot on their trail, Sonic motioned for everyone to stop. Wasting no time, he curled into a ball and slammed into the wall of snarled vines at top speed. His sharp quills sliced through the plants with some trouble--because they were so thick--but his will was stronger than their defenses. After successfully sawing a door through the vines, he stood and turned back toward his companions.

"Did someone call a gardener?" he quipped with a wink.

Everyone rolled their eyes.

"Tough crowd," Sonic muttered.

But then the vines began to squirm. Realizing they were already starting to regrow, everyone hurried through the gap Sonic had created. It closed behind them shortly after.

Gnarly gulped. "You don't think they're gonna eat us, do ya? The a-a-aliens?"

Thorn Rose slammed the handle of her hammer down in front of her, making Gnarly jump. "We're as good as eaten if we don't fight back!" she snapped. "The Green needs our help. Without it, we're all alien food."

Gnarly grimaced, but didn't argue.

Halcyon turned to face Sonic. "Your plan is unlikely to succeed," he said matter-of-factly. "However, I will allow you to attempt it. Once. In the case that it fails, I will do whatever it takes to dispose of the Black Arms."

Sonic grinned. "One shot's all I need," he said confidently.

Halcyon considered this. After a moment, he nodded.

Sonic tried not to think about how much Halcyon looked like Shadow when he did that. Not like it mattered, anyway. Because they would save Shadow. Together. Right here, right now. No matter what Halcyon thought the odds were--Sonic would beat them like he always did.

Squeezing his hands into fists to hide their slight tremor, Sonic turned to the group and said, "Let's whack some weeds!"

The forest shuddered. Prim yelped as the ground seemed to shift beneath her feet. Windthrow and Whirley growled as the vines trembled, their hackles raised in warning. Gnarly looked like he wanted to bolt, but realized he'd probably be safer with the group than on his own, so he stayed where he was. Thorn Rose, Halcyon, and Sonic shared a look.

It must be him.

It must be Shadow.

A moment later, they were proven right. In the middle of the clearing in front of them, vines slithered apart like waves of snakes to reveal a dark form wrapped in flowers and thorns: Shadow. Or, what was once Shadow. His mind had been overwhelmed by the combined might of a billion plants--the Megaflora, as Halcyon had called them. The result of Gerald Robotnik's research. They were plants mixed with Black Arms DNA, and they were hellbent on planetary conquest.

Shadow opened his eyes, but Sonic knew it wasn't really him in control. The dark hedgehog locked eyes with his rival. "Earthling," he cooed. "You have returned to us."

Sonic wanted to jump into action right then and there, but his hastiness was what had gotten them in this mess in the first place, so he forced himself to act cool. "Yeah," he said casually. "What can I say? I just couldn't stay away."

Without looking away from Sonic, Shadow said, "You brought the others."

Sonic was surprised to hear disdain in Shadow's voice. So, the plants had finally gotten the hang of emoting, huh? Well, it didn't make them any less creepy. With a wave of his hand, Sonic replied, "Don't mind them. This is about you and me."

The vines squeezed tighter around Shadow. Sonic could see the thorns dig into his fur, drawing blood. Sonic had to keep talking in order to stop himself from abandoning his plan. "I get it," he said, a little tightly. "You missed me. I'd miss me too. Thing is, I did some thinking while I was gone..."

Shadow didn't move. Didn't blink. He just stared at Sonic, listening.

It seemed as though the whole world had gone quiet. Maybe it had.

"...And, well," Sonic continued, "I changed my mind."

Finally, Shadow reacted. He leaned forward, his body moving like a puppet on strings. "Is that so?"

Sonic stepped forward. Not too fast, not too slow. Deliberately. Shadow--but really, the Megaflora--tracked his every move. Good. That was what he wanted. "Uh-huh," Sonic said. He folded his hands behind his head calmly. Then, with a lopsided smile, he added, "I wanna stay here with you."

At last, Shadow left the center of the clearing. The Megaflora had gotten better at moving his body since the last time Sonic was here, but "better" was relative, and plants were never meant to walk in the first place, so was it really any surprise that now that they could, they did so with stuttering, jerky steps?

As Sonic watched Shadow come closer, his stomach twisted uncomfortably. But he kept his eyes on him. He didn't dare look away, especially not up and over the dark hedgehog's shoulder, where Thorn Rose and Halcyon now were. No, Sonic kept his eyes on Shadow just like he said he would. Because that was the plan.

When he was directly in front of Sonic, Shadow finally stopped his scary marionette-walk. Unfortunately, he did something even scarier next: he smiled.

"Do you take us for a fool, Earthling? These eyes are not the only ones that can see."

Thorn Rose gasped as eyeball-covered, alien vines suddenly shot up from the ground and grabbed her ankles.

"Loathsome vermin," Shadow said darkly. Then, he turned his attention back toward Sonic. Now, his voice was soft. Almost sad. "If only you could have seen... but no matter."

Vines anchored Sonic's feet in place as Shadow wrapped his hands around the blue hedgehog's throat.

"Your corpse will make fine company!"

Suddenly, Halcyon shouted, "Now!"

Windthrow tackled Shadow, and his superior size sent them both tumbling to the ground in a flurry of fur and foliage. Sonic, meanwhile, instinctively touched his throat. Oh, yeah. That was going to hurt later. But there was no time for that now--he shook his shoes free from the vines before Shadow could get back up.

Everyone was on the move. While Windthrow was wrestling with Shadow, the scavengers had taken to beating back the plants attempting to stop Halcyon and Thorn Rose from cracking open the cage of vines in the heart of the forest. Halcyon had transformed his jelly arm into a saw, while Thorn Rose used her hammer to block the vines from growing back. Soon, Halcyon was able to break through to the core, and from it he pulled out the glowing Green Prism Shard.

Shadow shoved Windthrow off of him. "No!" he roared, and it was like all the plants in the world did too.

But it was too late.

Halcyon threw the Shard. At the height of the chaos, it seemed as though time slowed down. Sonic watched as the Shard began to arc through the air before reluctantly tearing his gaze away from it. He turned instead toward Shadow. Using his super speed, Sonic snatched Shadow's wrist, hauled him up, and then with his free hand, he took the one chance Halcyon had given him.

And he didn't miss.

Sonic's fingertip connected with the Shard.

A brilliant flash of light filled the forest.

When it cleared, Sonic and Shadow were gone. But the sounds of the wailing Megaflora seemed to follow them through the Void, their agonized screaming licking at Sonic's heels, lamenting, "We almost had you!"

But Sonic didn't believe in "almosts". He kept a tight grip on Shadow as the two of them careened through the Void. It was the bright blue gate of No Place that swallowed them up, and after the suffocating green of the Boscage, Sonic welcomed it.

The portal spat them out in the sky, which was frankly quite rude of it. Sonic blinked, realized the two of them were now falling down instead of horizontally, and brought Shadow--who hadn't moved since he'd touched the Shard--into his arms. With any luck, they'd land on the same small island Sonic had discovered the first time he'd come to No Place.

It felt like they fell for a long time, but it was probably only 10 seconds. Sonic's spines hit the sand first, and it knocked the wind out of him, but not in a "linebacker just punted me across a football field" kind of way. It was more like a "shopping cart just hit me unexpectedly" way. In other words, because Sonic was tough, all he really did was let out a quiet oof.

"As far as landings go," Sonic said, "I'm gonna have to give that one a 4 out of 10. Forget about style points--we're totally beached!"

Shadow didn't respond. In fact, he still hadn't moved at all.

Sonic sat up, pulling Shadow up with him. Shadow's eyes were open, but they were glassy and unfocused, staring at nothing. Frowning, Sonic said, "Hellooo? Earth to Shadow?"

When Shadow still didn't respond, Sonic's grin faded. The blue hedgehog's nose twitched before he bent his head down, pressing one ear against the Ultimate Lifeform's chest, listening for a heartbeat--which he heard immediately. "Geez, Shadow," Sonic said after lifting his head back up. "You really had me going for a second there, bud. Trying to ruin my awesome rescue by..."

Sonic trailed off. He didn't want to admit it, but he was starting to get a little nervous, and he didn't feel like making jokes anymore. He just wanted Shadow to say something--anything. Because the longer he kept quiet, the more time Sonic had to think about why that might be.

Could his rescue have actually ended in disaster? Sure, he'd saved Shadow's body, but what about his mind? Was it still trapped in Boscage with those awful weeds?

Shadow blinked.

Sonic snapped out of his thoughts. In a small voice, Sonic asked, "Shadow...?"

Slowly, so slowly they would give molasses a run for its money, Shadow's eyes moved from staring straight ahead at nothing to looking up and over at Sonic.

"...Sonic."

Sonic's face lit up with a dazzling grin. He pulled Shadow into a hug, pressing his cheek against Shadow's in a way he knew was annoying and that Shadow would hate. Except, Shadow didn't push him away. Unlike the last time he did this in the Void, Shadow stayed still and let Sonic hug him.

For a brief second, Sonic worried that he had just imagined Shadow talking, and he was actually still catatonic. But thankfully, Shadow said something else, although his voice was a little muffled by Sonic's quills.

"I'm... free?"

Sonic pulled back so he could see Shadow's face. The dark hedgehog was looking down, his normally unreadable expression clouded with confusion and... something else. He still didn't move other than to breathe, almost as though he was afraid to do so.

For the first time, Sonic let go of Shadow. With his typical cocky attitude, he flashed his rival a thumbs up. "Yup!"

Shadow's expression grew more extreme. His hands shook as they reached out to grab Sonic, and in that moment Sonic realized what else was shining in Shadow's eyes: fear.

Sonic let Shadow pull him into an embrace. "Whoa, hey," Sonic said. "It's alright! Those weeds won't be bothering you anymore, Shadow. Promise."

Sonic felt Shadow's grip around him tighten. Then, Sonic realized with growing horror that his shoulder was getting wet. Wet from tears he couldn't see. He thought about how time flowed differently between the Shatterspaces, and how while he had only been separated from Shadow for a few days, Shadow had been alone with the Megaflora for much, much longer.

Sonic squeezed his eyes shut. However, he quickly set his jaw. The guilt could wait in line with his feelings about breaking the universe. He had something more important to deal with right now: Shadow.

"Sorry I was late," Sonic said quietly. "Didn't mean to make you wait, Shadow."

Shadow didn't reply, but Sonic could feel him press his face into his shoulder. So, Sonic asked, "Not up for small talk, eh?" Because he already knew he wouldn't get an answer, he continued, "That's fine. I got you."

Sonic watched the waves lap against the shore while Shadow cried. He didn't say anything else. There was nothing more to say. It was hard not to think about how he'd almost lost him, how Sonic was almost alone with nothing but the pieces of their broken world to pick up on his own, but Sonic didn't do "almosts". He just sat in the sand and rubbed his thumbs gently against Shadow's back.

Eventually, Shadow grew still. Sonic didn't want to move him, but when he didn't respond to his prodding, he did it anyway and found that he'd fallen asleep. Sonic could've said something about how they didn't have time for power naps, they had a world to save and a multi-verse to fix, but he didn't. The truth was, he was tired too. He hadn't slept since...

Uh...

Well, he wasn't sure how long it'd been. But if Mr. Ultimate Lifeform was tired enough to sleep, then he got a free pass for a nap too. That's how it worked, right? Come to think of it, did the Megaflora even need to sleep? They were plants, so probably not. But that would mean...

Sonic looked at the bags under Shadow's eyes and winced.

Without a word, Sonic laid Shadow down in the sand. Then, Sonic laid down too. The sun was setting on the horizon, and the first stars of nighttime were becoming visible in No Place's sky. Sonic thought that they looked identical to the stars he saw in Green Hill, but quickly stopped thinking it when his heart squeezed painfully.

Wait in line with the rest, thanks.

Eventually, the steady sound of the ocean foam lulled Sonic to sleep. Now, was it a good night's sleep? Was it free of awful dreams and fitful rolling? As a matter of fact, yeah, it was. He must've been exhausted because he slept like a rock despite all the baggage weighing him down.

In fact, when the stars faded and the pink-orange sun began to drift over the horizon, it was Shadow who woke up first.

Though, it was hard to tell, because he didn't open his eyes. For several horrible, horrible seconds, he didn't remember the events of last night, and he thought he was back in Boscage Maze. So, he waited. He waited for the Megaflora to tell him what to do, as they had been doing for the past month and a half. But their instructions never came. It was quiet inside of his mind, their raucous hissing absent.

He remembered what Sonic had said.

You're free.

Shadow opened his eyes. He was greeted by the beautiful blue ocean of No Place, so much nicer than the suffocating green of his old prison. After sitting up, he turned his head, and saw Sonic asleep next to him.

A cavalcade of unwanted thoughts rose to the forefront of his mind. All things that the Megaflora had wanted--had told him that he wanted--had forced him to want. Conquer the planet, kill the scavengers, save the Earthling.

But as it turned out, the "Earthling" had saved him.

Shadow swallowed thickly. It was difficult to put those thoughts out of his mind, to remember what was his and what was theirs. For what felt like an eternity, there was no difference. It was simply them. Theirs. We. Us.

Sonic's ear flicked in his sleep. Shadow stared at it.

"I'm Shadow the Hedgehog," he said to no one in particular. "I'm the Ultimate Lifeform."

A soft sea breeze blew across the tiny island. Sonic stirred. He cracked an eye open, then grinned. "’I'm the Ultimate Lifeform’," he said in his best Shadow impression.

Shadow scowled. He looked away from Sonic and out at the endless ocean. "Hmph."

"Back to your old self, huh? Good. I was starting to think I'd need to find a new rival!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Shadow lied.

Sonic sat up. "Aw, c'mon, Shad," he teased. "We're not doing the forgetting-important-events thing again. Once was more than enough! Besides," Sonic leaned in close to Shadow, "it's a lot more fun when you play along."

"This isn't a game, Sonic!" Shadow snapped.

"C'mon, dude. You're back. I'm feelin' good. What's wrong with a little--"

Shadow interrupted, "You still don't get it. We-- I--..." Shadow said again, putting heavy emphasis on that first word, "I saw things. All of their memories. These aren't just facsimiles of your friends; these are whole worlds you've created with your mistake."

Sonic grew quiet. After a moment, he asked, "So they're real now, huh?"

Shadow glared at Sonic. But then, all the anger drained from his face. He just looked tired. "The accursed Megaflora has been around for longer than my Project. I witnessed its conception and subsequent failure. It... is real. And the suffering it’s inflicted on Boscage Maze can't be denied."

Shaking his head, Sonic said, "Yeah, well, that's what they made you for."

Shadow tensed. But Sonic waved his hand and said apologetically, "Halcyon, I mean. The other, uh... you. He's supposed to fix it." Sonic cleared his throat awkwardly. "Now that you're outta there, those weeds won't last long. Don't sweat it!"

Shadow pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sonic, you..." He was aggravated. "No, I made things worse. They probed my mind. They have my intelligence. I couldn't... there was nothing I could do to stop them. They kept pushing until I..."

Broke.

"...It's okay, Shadow. Really."

"How can you say that?" Shadow was shouting now. "How can you possibly... understand?"

"I don't," Sonic admitted. Then, he patted Shadow's arm. "But I know you. And even a faker like Halcyon has gotta have some of you in him. And I know you don't take the easy way. You don't quit. So, it'll be okay. Cuz I trust you."

Shadow laughed bitterly. "You're still the same idiot," he said.

"Maybe," Sonic said with a shrug. "But I got you back. Right?"

Shadow's mouth went dry. He remembered--both through his own two eyes and the thousand eyes of the Megaflora--seeing Sonic fight against the immense might of the Boscage Black Arms. He conceded, "You did."

Sonic's mouth quirked up in a small smile. "And why's that?"

Frowning, Shadow searched Sonic's eyes for a hint of what the answer might be, but he couldn't figure it out.

Sonic didn't look away. "It's cuz I need you. I'm big enough to admit that."

The thought of having to fix the world all on his own was almost too much for Sonic to bear. He'd been faced with that awful reality while separated from Shadow, while Shadow had been suffering under the Megaflora's control. Thankfully, Sonic didn't have to see the reality of that "almost".

Sonic held out his hand to Shadow. "Let's fix this, Shadow. Together."

Shadow looked at Sonic's hand for a long moment. In the end, he took it and said, "Together."

[puck-luck]

two beds again | dawson mercer

warnings: somnophilia, sub!dawson, unprotected p in v, handjob, established!FWB/BFF!relationship pairing: dawson mercer x fem!reader requests: “absolutely obsessed with simpy, subby!dawson….. pls write more”, “I would love a sub! Dawson Mercer fic. I don’t think there’s enough of him and he’s such a precious boy” (thank u! @snowbunni, i want to make sure you see this after your request so i made sure you tag you xo), “him fucking her awake and then being all sweet and fixing the bed?” wc: 1039

You hear Dawson before you feel him, really. He’s whimpering, his mouth no doubt clamped shut as he tries not to wake you. He’s thrusting into you shallowly, trying not to move you too much. His cock is hard inside of you, surely having stiffened as he gained consciousness in the early hours of the morning. 

Dawson’s mouth smothers the skin behind your ear, his breath like a caress against the shell of the appendage. 

You let out a moan to alert Dawson that you’re awake. “Dawsy,” you say, twisting in his grip to get your mouth on his.

“Yes,” Dawson breathes out, voice breaking as he draws his cock out of your wetness and pushes back in. “Fuck, baby.”

“Been going at it long?” You tease, threading a hand through Dawson’s wavy locks. You arch your back, Dawson’s cock finding a deeper spot inside of you. 

Dawson lets out a tortured whine, burying his face into your neck. His hips move erratically. “No,” he admits.

“You’re close, aren’t you?”

Dawson curses under his breath, bringing a hand around your body to clutch at one of your tits, his grip near painful.

“You just can’t help yourself, Daws.” You chuckle softly. “Pretty girl in front of you and you just have to get your cock inside her, is that right? You need to take her, claim her?”

“No,” Dawson repeats, inching his other hand down to paw at your clit. “Just want to make you feel good. Need that.”

You bring his hand from your tit to the front of your throat. 

Dawson stills against you, his breath shaking with the effort to stave off his orgasm. His cock pulses inside of you and he pants like he’s run a marathon. Dawson’s fingers move against your bundle of nerves rapidly, slipping over the skin between your legs with his desperation.

You turn your head so you can look at him. His eyes are closed, fluttering. He’s sweating and his chest is rising and falling in laborious bursts. You lower your voice so that you’re whispering and relish in the way that Dawson leans into you, his lips just a breath from yours. 

“Do you feel how wet I am for you?” You ask. “Even when I’m asleep, you make me so wet, Dawson. You make me feel so good. You’re so good.”

Dawson’s teeth find your shoulder and bite down. His fingers tighten around your neck, then loosen into a gentle stroke. 

“Make me come.”

His hand flies over your clit, his hips starting up again. He fucks you with earnest, moans and whines escaping him along with indiscernible babbles, begging you to let go around him. He kisses your neck, sloppy and wet, like he’s fallen dopey in his desperation to make you come. He’s so focused on your pleasure, on getting his lips in contact with your skin and getting the taste of your sweat on his tongue, that he’s not even aware of the mess he’s become.

You come after only a few more thrusts, clenching down on Dawson’s cock. Your aftershocks rock him, but he manages to keep himself at bay. He pulls out of you slowly, the stimulation of your walls dragging over his member almost too much for him.

You turn to face him, placing your hand on his chest. You kiss him, his lips soft and shivering against yours. He’s still desperate. He’s still a mess.

Your other hand finds the base of his cock, wet with your juices. You use your own come to slick up his cock, pumping him with a firm hand, twisting around the tip. 

Dawson moans, his mouth falling open and staying there. The curves of his cheekbones are sharp, the dimple at the bottom of his chin begging to be kissed.

“My good boy,” you coo into Dawson’s ear. “I love how badly you want to please me, how eager you are when all you can think about is making me come.”

“I love you,” Dawson says, his voice the same as it is when he begs. His words bleed from his mouth, crumbling like a sandcastle under a stray wave. He repeats himself again, shivering under your touch.

“Show me,” you command softly. “Come, Daws.”

He comes over your hand, the white spurts dripping through your fingers and making the glide of your hand even easier. You continue to jerk him through his aftershocks, his hips jumping under your hand and sharp gasps leaving Dawson. 

“I love you too,” you whisper to Dawson, kissing over his cheek until you reach his lips. You unite with him in a smooth movement, petting over his stomach. His muscles tense under your hand and Dawson slips his tongue into your mouth. He’s lazy with it, feeling you with careful fingers. Little does he know, your petting over his stomach was more of a means of getting his come off of your hands and onto his skin, making him even more of a mess. All the more for you to tease him about later.

Again, Dawson repeats himself. “I love you.”

You close your eyes and smile, rubbing your nose against his. 

Dawson seems to take it as a shake of your head. “I do,” he insists.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” you say, changing the subject. “Now, you can fix the bed that you broke.”

“Will you help me?” Dawson asks, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him. The come on his stomach rubs against your belly and you glare at him– Dawson’s returning look is smug. He knew what you were doing all along and allowed it to happen.

“Absolutely not. I thought you were my big, strong man. I could have called anyone else, like I told you yesterday.”

Dawson blows a raspberry against your cheek. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Fix my bed and I’ll let you eat me out for as long as you want.”

It’s almost funny, the way Dawson scrambles out of bed and into the spare bedroom. He leaves you laying in your bed, fingers toying with the peaks of your breasts mindlessly as you hear the scuffle of a soon to be complete bed from the other room.

[sea-lanterns]

SWEET DESIRE

synopsis: genshin women who are biters!

featuring: miko, shenhe, rosaria, shinobu

rating: 18+ nsfw (minors dni)

warnings: gn! sub reader, no mentions of s.ex but highly suggestive, biting, licking, blood drinking, marking, possessiveness, jealousy, lots of teeth mention.

art credits: my food seems to be very cute

MIKO

When Miko bites, she bites hard. Her teeth are a lot sharper than a human’s, so whenever she sinks her teeth into your skin, it hurts. (In a good way, but maybe it was just the masochist in you…)

She’s quite rough, too. Very possessive as she often marks you up with her fangs especially. Fox canines are very sharp, yet she uses them on special occasions whenever she gets jealous or particularly frenzied. Just like how dogs get zoomies, Miko gets them too, yet in a very…different way.

You could tell Miko is just itching for a bite when her tail pops out and it’s flicking a lot faster than normal. The tips of her fangs peeking out from her lips, and the nail dents in her arms from squeezing herself too hard. She gets rather excited at the thought of seeing you, and it shows in the form of several, several, varying bites.

There are small bites, like little nibbles as she savors you like the snack you are. These ones are the cute ones, she usually does these to express playfulness and teasing.

Then there are bigger bites, ones that actually leave a dent and cause her to kiss it better when she sees it bruise. Her lipstick framing the bite like it was a piece of valuable artwork, as these ones are the passionate “I love you” ones.

Then, there are the feral bites. The ones where Miko literally opens her jaw to chomp on you as lightly as she can (for this one can make you bleed if she’s too violent) This bite occurs whenever she feels rather jealous or possessive, and she wants to remind you that you are with her and her alone. These ones bruise a lot, and sometimes draw blood when she’s not careful. 

But don’t worry…she’ll always lick it better to soothe you <3

SHENHE

Oh, Shenhe is shy, but absolutely unhinged when she wants you to herself. You’re not sure if it’s her rage or powers or what, but Shenhe can be quite the biter when she wants to be.

Now, keep in mind, Shenhe would never purposely hurt you. She loves you way too much to even fathom the thought! However, growing up with the adepti, meant she was taught some very…interesting techniques to show love to her partner… Well, they are quite ancient, so their courting practices can be a little outdated… 

Shenhe’s bites are quite strong, yet very stiffly controlled. When she gets a little antsy or just craves more attention from you, she starts grazing your skin with her mouth, making it seem like she was kissing your hand innocently, when really she’s raking the edge of her teeth over your fingers. 

You notice right off the bat, she’s looking at you through her lashes with that half-lidded gaze. You could tell that she just wants you right this moment, and if you don’t do something quick she’ll take a chomp out of your neck right there in public. (She hasn’t quite grasped the concept of public displays of affection…)

She’s very quiet when she bites you. Her lips are surprisingly soft (and very cold) whenever they brush against your neck. She’s shy at first, but slowly her movements are more precise. Not just brushing against your skin, but now leaving firm dents in certain spots just how you like it.  

If you shiver under her touch, she pauses, comprehends whether that was a pleasant or painful shiver, and resumes when she sees no signs of distress. She’s a gentle girl after all… <3

ROSARIA

Rosaria is mean. When she bites, she means it as a warning or way to keep you in your place. She’s probably the complete opposite of the other girls, as she wants it to hurt. (Sadist Rosaria canon)

Rosaria isn’t one to punish without reason, if she bites you there’s always a good reason why. You were being too whiny? Chomp. You were particularly rude in a response to her? Chomp. You just looked so attractive? Chomp.

This sounds a little…odd, but Rosaria gives me vampire vibes. And by that I mean she bites hard enough to draw blood and licks it. I’m not kidding, you have to have a higher pain tolerance with this woman as she quite literally enjoys the thrill of your pain.

When she punctures a small opening for blood, she holds you still and laps her tongue over the wound to savor the metallic taste. It looks and sounds eerie, but you can’t help but find the action attractive as she always makes sure to hold you tight.

She also bites from behind like a vampire, using her clawed hands to tilt your head back as she leans in quietly to stake her claim. The tips of her metallic nail guards gently scratching at your chin, as you feel a similar prickly sensation of her teeth on your neck.

In the end of it all, Rosaria really just loves you (and your blood, but that’s beside the point). In her eyes, if you’re red all over, it’s a sign of love… Whether it be a blush on your face, or your own blood dripping down her lips…

SHINOBU

Shinobu is so nice. Unfortunately, she has some insanely sharp teeth for a human that she covers up with a mask (personal headcanon). She’s a little self conscious about it, but when she smiles at you without her mask, you can’t help but adore how cute her teeth are. 

Shinobu is super careful when she kisses you or bites you. She’s extra gentle since she knows just how soft and sensitive your skin is, so everything she does to you takes time and care.

Her favorite place to bite you is your stomach. Unlike the other girls who usually go for the neck or collarbone, this girl pays some extra attention to your stomach. She honestly just really likes how soft the stomach area is, as the skin there is a lot more pleasant to kiss in her humble opinion. 

When she grazes your stomach with her teeth, it tickles a lot. They’re so sharp and pointed yet so gentle as she rakes them over slowly, analyzing your skin for the perfect spot to mark. Once she does however, you’ll know because she stops right above the area and smiles slightly. 

Shinobu’s bites are pinchy. They’re small, but wow do you feel the sting sometimes. They’re also extremely warm due to her tongue, as Shinobu has quite the long tongue that she uses to lick your bites raw and soothe the bruising to keep it from swelling. It works majority of the time, and wow does it feel good because she likes dragging it down your stomach to tease you.

In short, Shinobu really takes her time marking you. If anything, the more bites she leaves, the happier she gets. One thing you notice however, is that whenever she bites your stomach, you notice them trailing lower and lower until…

[macabr3-barbi3]

loved this one WHEW 💕🥵

Tags: Daddy kink, that's it, that's the whole fic

🩵❤️🩵❤️🩵

The first time Vox calls himself ‘Daddy’ while you’re fucking him you freeze up so immediately that he thinks he’s done something wrong. “Fuck, baby, taking Daddy so well,” he had muttered in your ear, and the sharp, sudden swoop of arousal in your gut had caught you off guard, moan choking off into a high pitched whine as your body went still. He looks down at you, expression twisted in concern as he realizes what he had said and blushes, pixels going pink. “Sorry, sorry,” he mutters, and resumes railing you as normal, hand slipping between your bodies to rub at your clit. You bite your lip as you cum to hold back the title, head thrown back while Vox finds his own release and you wonder what to do with this new information.

You keep your distance for a few days, keeping occupied with busy work- you paint the living room of your shared floor in Vee Tower, offer to help Velvette with one of her shows, make sure that Valentino’s actors have a steady supply of food and drink in the studio. You don’t let Vox touch you for a week, despite your obvious need and his growing frustration. Finally on Sunday, when he lets Katie Killjoy take over the evening news, he comes home to the trap you’ve set. As soon as you hear the elevator door open with a ding you let out a loud moan from the bedroom, a siren call for Vox to come in and see you spread across the sheets of the bed you share, skin bared and your fingers working tirelessly between your legs. 

“H- hey baby,” he manages to get out, a glitch flashing across his screen as he approaches, fingers reaching for you before he’s even close enough to the bed to touch. “Fuck, look at you- soaked and ready for me, huh?” He slides a hand down the length of your thigh towards your core, swearing under his breath when you grab his hand and guide his fingers to the slick folds of your cunt.

“Please, Daddy,” you whine, and his fans let out a wheeze in place of an actual breath as he crouches over you, his screen dropping for a moment so you’re looking at the back of it instead of his face. 

When he looks back up to you his eyes are narrowed, mouth hanging open and his tongue out- he drags it up the length of your body from pelvis to tits, letting his sharp teeth scrape the sensitive nipple before he pulls off. He presses a finger into you, then a second when he finds that you’re already open and desperate. “Goddamn, doll, you didn’t have to blueball me all week for this,” he mutters. “You could’ve just asked- Daddy’s gonna give it to you either way.”

There’s the feeling again, that sharp shock of pleasure and arousal at the term, pussy clenching hard around his digits. “Please, I need it,” you whimper, and he pulls his fingers from your body and curls his tongue around them, using his other hand to line his cock up with your dripping slit and pushing in with a sharp thrust. “Oh fuck-”

“That’s right, sweetheart, Daddy’ll take care of you,” he growls, hooking his arms under your knees and dragging you further towards the edge of the bed. “So fucking perfect for me, taking my cock- you like that?” He slams his hips into you, fucking you with the conviction of a man possessed. Your fingers fly down to the bed, digging harsh lines into the sheets with the pressure from your claws.

“God, please,” you beg, already close on your own, the hard length of him spearing you hurtling you ever closer to that edge. “Daddy- Vox, please,”

He snarls, sharp teeth snapping as he leans in closer and folds you nearly in half. “Should’ve known- I thought you froze up ‘cause you were didn’t like it, baby, didn’t realize you were embarrassed by how much you fuckin’ wanted it.” He angles your hips, drives himself into you harder, faster, the sounds of skin slapping echoing in the room along with the groans and whimpers that he’s drawing from you.

“Fuck,” you whine, the words tearing from your mouth- you can almost feel the wave behind your eyes , waiting to crest, searching for that final shove to break the tension. “Fuck, gonna- please, Daddy, I need it-” Every time you say it his hips jerk, shoving more forcefully into your wet cunt, claws digging into the flesh of your hips.  

Vox’s left eye swirls, no power behind it, just showing how overwhelmed he is as well when he lets go of your leg on one side to rub forcefully at the bundle of nerves above your drenched pussy, where he’s got you stuffed full of him. “Go ahead, beautiful, cum on Daddy’s cock, show me how pretty-”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, your keening cry as the pressure inside of you releases, drowning him out. Your soft walls clamp down on him, the rippling muscles pulling at the rigid length of his cock inside of you, coaxing him into his own orgasm right behind you. Your mind is fuzzy, but still aware enough that his grunts of “fuck baby, take Daddy’s cum, good girl” light up the pleasure center in your brain as he floods you in long pulses. His hips jerk and stutter against you until he finally collapses against you, screen pressed gently into your bare chest and leaving little kisses on your skin.

“Fuck me,” he says, and you can’t help but giggle, running your fingers over the little ports on the back of his head, relishing in his shiver at the touch. “Why didn’t you just tell me you liked it? You didn’t have to spring a trap.”

“God forbid a woman have hobbies.” He pulls out and flops onto the bed next to you, allowing you to roll and rest your head on his chest. “Besides, this was more fun.”

“You should greet Daddy like this after work more often then, doll-”

“Don’t fuckin’ push it,” you tell him, and his rumbling laughter where you’re pressed against him is relaxing, wrapping his arms around you in a firm, secure embrace.

[inkykeiji]

character: bonten!mikey x fem!reader notes: a day or two ago teddy and i were daydreaming about sucking on our Daddies’ fingers and i genuinely haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since!!!! warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, daddy kink, hair pulling, oral fixation (finger sucking), somnophilia + minimal prep, mention of drugs words: 1.3k

If he’s being truthful, Mikey doesn’t really mind when you suck on his fingers—kind of likes it, actually; likes feeling useful, likes the way your tongue pulses and jumps just a bit as you draw him in a little further, suck around him a little harder, likes to pacify you—provided that it’s feasible.

You know when to ask, know that if Daddy’s busy cleaning his guns or cutting his drugs that he needs both hands, that his pretty girl can’t be greedy, now, just because she needs something to suck on. No, on those days you can usually be patient enough, can usually wait until Daddy’s finished with whatever important business he has to take care of. But sometimes, if you’re really needy, and you’ve been extra good, you might get lucky—he might let you stick his cock down your throat, let it sit all heavy and hard on your tongue as you kneel sloppily between his spread thighs, chin on the edge of his chair, hands planted between your folded knees and palms pressed flat to the floor, all conscious and intentional, since Daddy has a rule against touching during times like these, claims it distracts him, and we can’t have that, now, can we, sweetheart?

No, Daddy. Of course not, Daddy.

Daddy has a rule against sucking at times like these as well—this isn’t about getting him off or making him feel good, after all, he had told you. This is just about giving his whiny little baby something to fill her mouth with, something to fill her mouth up, to keep her occupied and quiet while Daddy works. If he feels your tongue start to curl around his shaft, if he feels your lips begin to pucker and your cheeks begin to hollow, he’ll be yanking you off his cock in one harsh, swift motion, with his knuckles rooted at your scalp and a growled curse spit through his teeth—and then you’ll be in real trouble, and you definitely don’t want that! 

But it’s when Daddy’s sifting through boring paperwork and poring over mind-numbing files and notes—full of gruesome photographs and disturbing details—that the perfect opportunity arises to lend you his hand, to let you wrap both palms around his slim wrist and take his fingers into your mouth.

He knows that’s exactly what you want when you curl up next to him on his plush office couch, gazing at him with glittering eyes and your bottom lip siphoned between your teeth, but he won’t give it to you; not until you say it, of course, not until you explicitly ask for it—because good girls ask for what they want, don't they?—keen stare veiled by feathery lashes and voice trembling with a desperate sort of humiliation. 

But he’s sweet as syrup when he nods and allows you to suck two of his fingers into your eager, waiting mouth, silky praises falling from between smirking lips. Because you’re so good for him, swallow so well for him, take his index and ring finger all the way in for him, right to the third knuckle, the edges of your teeth gently scraping the sharp protruding bones. 

The metal of his rings clacks against the back of your teeth, platinum and white gold warming in the heat of your mouth as your tongue coils and curves around the bony digits, laves over the bumps and ridges of each knuckle and joint. Foamy saliva pools in all of the dips and crevices of the jewellery, coats the surfaces all slick and slimy and leaves the gems encrusted in the metal gleaming. 

The underside of the rings feel smooth on your tongue, tip tracing around the arc of each one, slow and studious, almost as if committing them to memory. The metal has a slight tang to it, smearing the zest of sweat across your tastebuds, bitter and salty with a hint of the rusted blood still caked beneath his nails and lining his cuticles.

The pads of his fingers stroke your tongue in slow, rhythmic motions, petting the slippery little muscle in a tender caress—mindless, soothing, habitual—as tired onyx eyes skim the pages crumpled in his free hand. Delicate fingers hook around the bangles encircling his wrist and tug, begging for more and whimpering nonsensically around his flesh—more, Daddy, more, more, gimme more, pretty please.

And he does, of course, his sweet, greedy little girl, permits you to draw him further down your throat, copious amounts of drool oozing from the corners of your mouth as your lips tighten and your tongue squeezes—so much so that it’s trickling down your chin and dripping off your jaw in heavy, viscous cords, drizzling all over your chest and clavicle.  

It leaves behind the prettiest streaks of shimmering spit, and Mikey can’t help but press down on the back of your tongue, enraptured as another tiny torrent of saliva seeps past his fingers to spill down his hand and collect in the lines of his palms.

The action earns him a pitchy yelp, sound vibrating around the tips of his fingers, and he snorts a little, fingers rubbing your tongue in a crude sort of apology. 

Sorry, baby, sorry, he’s murmuring in response, though that smug, sadistic little smirk toying with the corners of his lips tells you that he’s not sorry at all. 

His fingertips are pruned by the time he’s finished shuffling through his documents, soaked and soggy with your saliva. Your mouth’s finally gone slack, a telltale indicator that you’ve fallen asleep, dribbles of drool rolling down the side of his hand and his wrist as you breathe, calm and even and soft, around the digits lodged down your throat. 

Your teeth have left cute little indents in his knuckles and the underside of his fingers, but he doesn’t mind, running the tip of his own tongue over the jagged little craters carved into his skin and humming softly to himself.

It always has his cock twitching in his trousers, straining against the thin material, and on the nights where he really needs it—when the day has been abundantly challenging, excruciatingly exhausting, full of collecting debts and deaths—he’ll rearrange your pliant body, push your head down and hips up and panties aside and use his already sopping hand to wet you just enough to comfortably take his cock, burying himself to the fucking hilt in one swift, sharp thrust and revelling in the gorgeous little gasp of surprise that claws its way past your sleepy lips. 

Stay sleeping, sweetheart, he always tells you, murmured into the skin behind your ear and punctuated with a chaste kiss. Just let Daddy take what he needs.

And so you do, every single time, ever his good girl, his best girl, nodding into the corduroy couch cushions and mumbling out some garbled sentiment of affirmation. 

It’s never graceful, always shameful, lacking his usual skill and subtlety as he pathetically ruts into your sweet cunt, flush hips grinding into your thighs gone sticky and slippery with desperation, humping away unevenly at you until his cock is pulsing viciously and he’s breathing out a curse against the damp nape of your neck, filling you with thick cream.

He always takes a moment to admire you after, too; to admire the mess he’s made of you, the masterpiece he’s made of you, calloused thumbs spreading your fucked-raw lips and watching as his cum cascades out of you slow and sticky, using the hardened pad to smear it across your cunt—glazing your clit and your slit and your inner thighs; painting you in him, pressing into the splotches of navy and grey those sharp hipbones carved into soft flesh—before he hoists you up, collects your boneless body in a heap in his arms and decides it’s time for bed, finally, for the both of you.

[shadowdaddies]

Heyy, can I request anything with Fenrys?❤️

hii love, yes you can! (I interpreted this to mean I can write anything with Fenrys but if you mean you have something in mind to request just send it on over) 💜

A/N: I have both fluff and angst requests for Fenrys in my inbox rn and I'm in a mood today so I went with smut

Wild Things

Fenrys Moonbeam x f!Reader

Warnings: smut below the cut, pretty much pwp, oral f!receiving, rough sex, breeding kink if you squint, minors dni

The warm Terrasen sun beat down on your shoulders, your chest heaving as Aelin tossed you a towel to wipe the sweat from your brow. You had worked hard at training this afternoon, pushing yourself even harder when you felt Fenrys’s eyes on your ass in your leathers as he watched you from the shade.

Aelin’s eyes flicked to where your mate stood across the field, a knowing smirk accompanying her laugh. “Get out of here,�� she shooed you, and you gladly took the opportunity to get out of the summer heat. Turning to see that Fenrys was no longer waiting for you, you trudged your way up the stairs to your bedroom, eager to strip and bathe. 

Tossing your towel to the bedroom floor, you shucked off your boots and padded into the bathroom, savoring the feel of the cool tile against your feet. Bending over to peel the restrictive fabric from your legs, you gasped as familiar hands gripped your bare ass, kneading the skin there as Fenrys let out a low groan.

You smirked, wiggling your hips in a teasing manner before stepping out of your pants. Yanking you by your top, Fenrys roughly turned you around, wrapping your hair around his fist to tilt your face towards him. 

Onyx eyes pierced yours as his hand moved from the hem of your shirt, making quick work of untying the laces. “You knew what you were doing, teasing me all afternoon in this tight little outfit. I was about to bend you over and fuck you in the middle of the training yard.” A whimper escaped you at his words, making him growl as he leaned down to lick the sweat from your neck, teeth moving to graze your ear. “Is that what you want, for me to fuck you like you deserve, you tease?”

Panting, you were pliant in his arms as you nodded eagerly, helping him shove off your top so that you were bare before him. Hands drifted to your waist, rubbing teasing circles along your lower stomach as you clenched around nothing. The scent of arousal was heady in the air as Fenrys tossed you over his shoulder, smacking your ass hard enough to leave a mark as he carried you back into the bedroom. 

You yelped, flying backwards onto the mattress with a bounce as Fenrys discarded his, golden brown muscles rippling with the effort. Snapping out of the momentary daze from seeing your mate’s body, you propped yourself up on your elbows. “Fen, I don’t want to get the sheets dirty. I’m still so sweaty.”

With a dark chuckle, Fenrys looped his hands around your legs, yanking you to the edge of the bed where he bent over you, golden curls cascading down around you. “Don’t worry love, I will lick you clean,” he murmured, voice like gravel as he captured your lips in his, sharp canines drawing blood from your lower lip as he tugged against it. 

You moaned, arching into him as hip tongue slipped between your lips, caressing yours as a hand found your breast. His mouth trailed your jaw, licking away the sweat along your neck as he moved further south. One hand massaged your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers as you writhed against him. His lips found your other nipple, licking as his teeth grazed the sensitive bud, sending a jolt straight to your core. “Fuck, Fenrys please,” you begged, babbling incoherently as his other hand skimmed lower, fingertips swirling above your hip bones.

Tongue lapping against your skin, Fenrys groaned at the taste of your sheen of sweat on his tongue, his warm muscle ever so slowly moving towards where you needed him most. Broad hands spread your legs wide, your dripping arousal exposed to the cold air of the room. 

Onyx eyes grew somehow darker as Fenrys honed in on you like a predator, thumbs rubbing the skin of your inner thighs. He leaned down, long hair tickling the sensitive skin of your legs as he licked and sucked along your inner thigh, skipping right over your core before moving to the other leg, sucking a mark at the inside of your hip.

Your hands found his hair, clumsily hoping to pull him closer. A pathetic mewl escaped you as you confirmed how strong his grip was on you, keeping you firmly in place to use as he liked. A dark, taunting laugh left Fenrys’s lips, the slight air blowing against your clit making you grip his hair tighter, desperate for more. 

Onyx eyes locked with yours as Fenrys dipped, his tongue flicking out against your dripping core, holding your slick in a lewd display before closing his mouth with a feral moan of satisfaction. As if the tether on his own self control snapped, Fenrys dove in, nose brushing your clit as his tongue thrust rapidly into your core, wet muscle massaging your walls in a deliciously teasing way. 

Lips wrapped around your clit, sucking harshly as a finger teased your entrance. Your head hit the mattress, eyes rolling back as a finger thrust into you, curling against you as he pumped in and out. The sounds of your breathy moans filled the room as Fenrys added a second finger, rapid thrusts hitting exactly where you liked. 

Your breaths turned rapid and shallow as your stomach tightened, having no time to warn Fenrys before you hit your orgasm, arching as you moaned out his name. He didn’t relent his efforts, tongue flicking out against your clit as his fingers scissored and pumped into you, prepping you for his cock.

Convulsing against the sheets, you pleaded against the overstimulation your mate wrought on you, finally catching your breath as he pulled away. Pushing your body further up on the bed, Fenrys tapped your lips with his fingers in silent request. You opened obediently, tasting yourself as he watched you suck on his digits. 

A low growl left the male as he shifted, quickly ridding himself of his pants before throwing your legs over his shoulders and thrusting into you without warning. A scream left your lips as he pounded into you, wild and feral as your mate took what he wanted. 

Your hands fumbled, attempting to find purchase on his shoulders as he fucked you relentlessly, your body shifting back and forth along the mattress form the force. Fenrys paused only a moment, hands grabbing your hips as he flipped you effortlessly, pushing your chest down on the bed.

He fucked you from behind, hips snapping against yours as the sound of your skin connecting echoed through the room. Your hands clawed at the sheets, moans muffled as you bit the fabric to keep from screaming in pleasure. You exploded the moment his fingers found your clit again, crashing into your high as you felt Fenrys’s cock twitch inside of you. 

“Good girl, take it all,” me murmured, his warm seed filling you as his hips stuttered behind you. Still inside of you, Fenrys leaned over, kicking down your spine, licking beads of sweat as he went. Slowly pulling out of you, you gasped as his fingers rubbed against your clit, collecting the cum that had spilled out of you as he shoved it back inside. 

With a smack to your core, Fenrys gently commanded you. “Keep that in there for me, love. I’ll prepare a bath for you.” With a kiss to your temple, he allowed you to collapse against the mattress, focusing on his warmth that still filled you as you heard the sound of bath water running from the other room.

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

blame @ultrakatua for this raphael eats tav's heart (she's into it lol)

Read on AO3

-

“I heard an interesting saying once,” says the devil. Soft, slow, murmured like a gentle prayer by a devout at church. “You mortals are so terribly fond of those.”

“What saying,” says the mouse. Hushed, fast, words pushed through cracked dry lips licked one-too-many times by a tongue that cannot lay still. Impatient, but obedient.

“That the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” says the devil. “Quite the allegory. Don’t you agree?”

“Quite,” says the mouse.

The devil circles her. Stares, eyes dark and glittering. Calm, controlled, despite the yawning hunger so clearly written all over his handsome face. He is always hungry. Gluts upon the things he covets: souls, power, subservience. Her. Men like him cannot be sated. He will consume everything she offers and everything she doesn’t, for eternity. What a thrilling thought.

“I wonder,” says the devil. “What is the quickest way to your heart?”

He drags one sharp and solitary black claw along her bare flesh. Displayed so sweetly for him. Damp with sweat. Muscles quiver beneath her fragile skin that does not break, not yet, not until he wills it. Blood flows close to the surface yearning to be spilled. Her little baby hairs all stand on end.

“Raphael,” the mouse whispers. There is the gentle, ominous chime of a grandfather clock from somewhere.

“Beloved,” the devil croons. Smiles. Reaches between her legs to rub two fingers through her mons. She gasps, hips jerking when he nudges her swollen clit, but all he’s looking for is to coat himself in her warm slick. “A meal as fine as this should be savoured.” He holds those wet fingers up to her lips. “Open.”

The taste of her cunt is tart, earthy. Underneath it is purely him: cherries, smoke and magic. Reverently she sucks his digits clean. Bites them, thrilled by his quiet groan, the expanding of his pupils, the swish of his tail. Violence is a devil’s love language, after all. When he frees his fingers from the moist prison of her mouth, her teeth catch on his knuckles. He leaves twin trails of spit down her chin and throat as he lazily lets his huge paw rest between her breasts. She grows breathless with anticipation.

He doesn’t need a blade. The singular claw that earlier teased her with terrible promise is enough. He draws a division from the hollow of her clavicle to the end of her sternum, a division of red that blooms and blossoms into an incision, splitting skin and fat and muscle tissue like bursting fruit. She arches up off the table where he had her present herself, as all choice cuts should. The noise she releases is guttural, both agony and ecstasy. His first slice is always the deepest.

“Such beautiful sounds you make,” the devil purrs, voice tight. “Sweeter than all the music of the Hells. Let me hear more.”

Of course she obliges. Screams and whimpers and sobs even as her hands help him widen the wound further, pulling skin and meat slippery with gushing blood apart from the stained ivory of her ribs. It’s pain indescribable and pleasure inexplicable. The exposing of her true and tender self to the man who she wants to tear her apart. What he seeks, what she yearns to offer him, is protected behind a cage of bone. If he gave her a hammer, she would smash it open herself.

“Oh, my sweet pet. My darling little mouse,” the devil growls. His composure unravels the more she suffers. He is a monster below his veneer of charm and decorum, a monster excited and aroused. “You are exquisite.”

“Raphael…!” The mouse weeps.

He answers her call. Strokes her face, smearing it with crimson. His fine clothes splattered with blood. His hard cock strains in his trousers. He breathes through his mouth, fangs shining, pupils so large his eyes are abysses sunk into his deep sockets.

“Just a little more,” the devil promises.

Together they pry away her ribs, snapping them like dry twigs, and at last she can watch him reach into her chest, reach into her very being, and wrench out the thing that will always belong to him. Her heart beats loud and fast, torn valves spurting bright red arterial blood everywhere, as he holds it in his palm like a treasured jewel. Stares with insidious desire. She feels nothing but depraved satisfaction.

“Eat it,” the mouse chokes. “It’s for you. It’s yours.”

He feasts. Sinks his teeth into her heart as easy as a man eating an overripe peach. Rips pieces of rubbery muscle apart and swallows them whole. Pieces of her sliding down his gullet. All of the twisted, consuming emotions he makes her feel, the dark things about herself she could never escape – everything she is, was, and ever will be, contained in that bloody mass, and he is devouring it. Such sick rapture, to be destroyed by someone who wants you that much. Now she’ll be a part of him forever.

[jadeleechsupportgroup]

Bittersweet

malleus as therapy.

cw: mental illness, suicide mention/ideation, overdose mention, psychological trauma. no gore or horror though.

(wrote this a while ago. based on a real life event for me.)

“It is difficult for me to understand.”

Malleus’s voice draws me out of the fog of my own mind and back to reality like the tether of a wayward life preserver. I wonder what he would think of this comparison.

“What is?” I ask, hoping not to make it too obvious that I wasn’t listening. I was, at first. I just have a lot going on right now. I always do.

He slow-blinks, catlike, lizardlike, dragonlike, his spring green eyes focusing on me a bit more purposefully. “That humans treat birthdays as occasions to celebrate,” he says, possibly repeating himself, to my sheepish guilt. “They have such short lifespans, yet they are so eager to lose another year each time.”

“Oh.” I clutch my stomach. I feel sick, and not because I ate too much cake. “Well, it’s not that simple. I-”

Deuce and Ace and Grim have started a conga line. I instinctively wince away from the noise, even though they're my best friends and I love seeing them happy, because the whole room is too loud and too close and I really think I might hurl.

“I, um, I’ll be right back.”

I set my paper plate aside and dart - slink - scrabble away from the chaos. I feel an episode coming on, or maybe it’s been playing for a while now, like a show I put on Netflix and left forgotten on autoplay until it asks me if I’m still watching. The brambles of unwanted memories tug at me with sharp fingers.

I wind up in the Diasomnia courtyard. It has benches under trees. It has a fountain. It has fog because of course it does, it’s Diasomnia. I sit on a bench and shut my eyes and grit my teeth against the acid burning through my stomach.

[ ping ]

My phone wants my attention. Normally it’s superglued/surgically attached to my hand, and muscle memory politely shoves me toward checking it, but I can’t look.

[ ping ] [ ping ] [ ping ]

The messages flicker before my eyes as clearly as when I first read them.

[ ping ]

It was weird, I had thought at the time. A couple vague posts from my friends popped up in my feed at random. Eventually I messaged one to find out what happened.

[ ping ] [ ping ]

Overdose, they’d said. Insulin and antidepressants. A month’s supply of hoarded medications. Suddenly the posts made awful sense. Claws gripped my heart and made it hard to breathe.

[ ping ]

“I had almost forgotten that humans can tell lies.”

Malleus’s voice startles me out of my woeful thoughts. “What?” I ask stupidly.

He gazes down at me. His features are shrouded by the dark, but I can see the downward turn of his mouth and feel the intensity of his eyes. He’s concerned. “You said you would be right back.”

I turn away from him and look at the ground. “Sorry,” I mumble. “You wanna sit down?”

He does. His presence warms the air next to me. I want to isolate myself - it’s so easy - but I make myself scoot closer to him so he can at least hold my hand.

“A lot of people hate birthdays,” I blurt out abruptly. “Like, they gripe about getting older, usually.”

My hand curls up tighter. He’s so different from me, all soothing heat and composure and grace to my sharp edges and cold, jittery nightmare of an existence.

“Is that what troubles you?” he asks quietly. His voice helps.

“No.” My voice wobbles, about to fall off the balance beam. This was not how I pictured having this conversation. In fairness, I had hoped it was a conversation I would never need to have. “A couple years ago. Something bad happened.”

Malleus is yet unfamiliar with many a human habit and social convention, but it seems he has learned at least one from me. He lifts one arm and rests it along the back of my shoulders.

My voice goes strangely cold and steady.

“My friend died. Killed herself. She overdosed and had seizures for ten days until they took her off life support the day before my birthday.”

The words linger like the bitter fog of my breath in the air. He says nothing.

“I hate my birthday now. I’m mad at her for doing this to me. I hate myself for being mad at her. I hate it because it could’ve been-”

My voice hitches as if caught on a sharp edge. If I open my mouth to try again, I know I’ll choke on tears.

“It could have been you?”

He poses the question as delicately as the touch of a fallen petal.

I’ve already cried over this so much that I don’t think I can ever cry again. But I’m finding it hard to breathe, the air escaping from my chest in erratic puffs of visible vapor.

[ ping ]

I hated the group chat they’d made. A dozen semi-strangers propping each other up with worthless promises that she would be okay, even though I knew the moment I heard the news that she wouldn’t make it. So many people lamenting how sad it was. So many “my door is always open”s.

“I think I understand.”

Malleus speaks close to my ear. I fall into his embrace as though collapsing under the weight of my words.

“It is not about celebrating the loss of a year,” he says in a soft murmur, “but the completion of one that might have been lost.” He strokes my hair. “As if conquering a great foe in battle.”

“Mhm. Slaying the dragon.”

It’s out of my mouth before I can stop it. But he laughs.

“I should hope not. It is my birthday, after all.”

“Yeah. Sorry I’m making you miss it.”

“All is well.” He leans his head against mine. “I do not believe I am missing anything.”

I want to accept this as a wistful sentiment, but I make myself stand up. “Well, contrary to popular belief,” I say, taking both of his hands in my own, “birthday parties aren’t exclusively for you.” I give a light tug to pull him to his feet, and he rises with the poise of a dancer. “They’re also for your friends to eat cake and play games and be super obnoxious. So you shouldn’t leave them hanging.”

I never thought I would find the lights and crowd noise of a party welcoming, but I welcome it. Malleus keeps a hand around my shoulders - protective, comforting - until he’s certain I’ve recovered enough to stand on my own. I’m not quite up to joining the conga line, but I help myself to another slice of cake and some bonbons and a cup of punch.

“Feeling better?”

Lilia winks into existence next to me.

I’ve given up asking how he did that or when he showed up or anything else to the tune of fact-checking him against reality. “I forget you two can hear a pin drop in the next zip code,” I say as flatly as I can.

He gives a light laugh and pats my head. “I only want to make sure you are well,” he says.

“I think given my track record it’s safe to say that I’ve never been very well, Lilia.”

A strange expression settles over his eyes. Something knowing. Something…aged.

“It is never easy to face a monster in battle,” he says. “No matter your experience, your skills, your preparation- every confrontation is unique.”

I hold eye contact with him and sense I am speaking to a very different man.

“Do you know the meaning of bravery, young one?”

“Something something not being afraid of things?” I offer.

His smile politely declines my suggestion. “Silver made that mistake as well.” Lilia reaches over and taps me on the nose. “To be fearless is not to be brave, child of man. True courage lies in having fear and choosing to fight regardless of it.”

My gaze sweeps back to Malleus. Sebek is losing any composure he might have had due to a smear of frosting marring his lord’s white blazer. I look down at the half-finished cake in front of me. “It never stops, does it?” My voice comes out in a half-whispered croak. “I’ll never win.”

Lilia ruffles my hair. “You won’t know unless you try, young one.” His smirk never wavers, but it looks more genuine. “Besides,” he says with a knowing glance at my band of idiots - Grim balancing precariously atop Ace’s shoulders and trying to place a birthday tiara around Malleus’s horns - “it is hardly as though you are fighting alone.”

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

Bargain

Not sure what to tag this with. A couple people were triggered when I posted this the first time. It's dark, because it's Raphael. TW for blood, dubcon, horror elements. Cambion Raphael is being his manipulative self. p in v, biting, choking... it's a rough time.

Tav walked carefully through the House of Hope. She’d opted to go alone, for reasons she was not entirely clear on. The shades of souls flickered in and out of view, sickly green against the disgusting opulence of the house; everything was red and gold, tacky to the point of offense. She slipped through on silent feet, praying to every god she knew that she could steal Mol’s contract and be out of there before the house could rat her out. I wish Astarion was here, she found herself thinking. Two rogues are better than one. She crept up to a closed door, placing a palm to it. Its heat radiated strongly; she would have to be careful. Drawing the picks from her pack of tools, she moved achingly slowly, only exhaling when she heard the click of the lock. Opening the door as quietly as possible, she moved in and closed the door, her back to the room.

‘Little Mouse.’

Cold dread slid down her spine, sinking into her stomach as gooseprickles rose on her neck. Her heart was in her throat, quick feet like lead. I’m going to die. Say something, idiot. She inhaled sharply, steeling herself to turn and face Raphael, but before she could he was at her back, his silken voice in her ear.

‘Just why are you so brazenly creeping up on me, hmm?’ Tav flinched as his fingers closed on the back of her neck. ‘Lie to me, please, so I can make this worse for you.’ Her breathing was loud to her own ears, her heart galloping.

‘Mol’s contract,’ she said. She cursed her unsteady voice. Her breath hitched as he dug his nails into her skin, his tongue wet on her jaw.

‘You wanted to steal from me, little rogue? Bold. And foolish.’ He grabbed her shoulders and flipped her around to slam her back against the door. ‘Perhaps a little taste of consequences will teach you a lesson. I’ve indulged you enough.’ His lips pulled back from his handsome face and she watched him change, sharp wings unfurling from his shoulders, horns curling out of his dark hair. His eyes bored into hers, hungry and gleaming with triumph. There was nowhere for her to go.

‘Mol’s a child,’ she spat. ‘I’m trying to protect her.’  Her back burned, but she dare not move closer. Raphael grinned, neat teeth pointed. Tav balled her hands into fists, seized by the wild urge to scratch his eyes out.

‘Thought more on our deal, have you?’

‘I’m not making a deal with you, Raphael.’

‘Oh, but you are, sweetling. I will destroy Mol’s contract. But I want something from you in return.’

She could hardly believe her luck. ‘Name it.’

‘Surely it’s not so easy?’ he purred. A clawed finger tipped up her chin. ‘You’ve run from me for far too long, little mouse. No more.’

‘Fine,’ she said, resolute. I will not show fear.

‘Swear,’ he said, mouth hovering over hers, his breath hot and reeking of sweet poison.

‘I swear,’ she croaked. He laughed low, gripped her chin and claimed her mouth, tongue like flame against hers, sharp teeth biting down on her lip to draw blood. She whimpered in pain and he groaned in satisfaction, licking it from her lips. When she tried to pull away he buried a hand in her hair, only deepening the kiss. Only when she scrabbled at his arms did he let her go. She fell back, heaving in air. It stung her throat, the sulphur and heat, and tears pricked at her eyes.

‘Bastard,’ she snarled. With a snap of his fingers, her clothes burned away to ash. Heat rose in her cheeks at the way his eyes seemed to consume her, and then he had her by the hips and was bending her over his desk, hand closing around her throat to keep her eyes on his. Tav grabbed his wrist, her own nails digging into his skin. He hissed and she reached up to pull hard on his hair. ‘This isn’t all about you,’ she warned him. She had no idea where her courage was coming from, only that she would take whatever pleasure she could get. This would not go his way.

‘Insolent girl,’ he said. ‘There are undoubtedly better uses for that mouth of yours, don’t tempt me.’

‘Try it and-’ she began.

‘No,’ he said darkly. ‘Shut up.’ With one sharp, violent thrust he was inside the mammal softness of her mortal body. She screamed, gasping as he choked it off, grip on her neck bruising. ‘No more venom for me, girl?’

She grit her teeth, dragging her nails down his neck. The press of his palm against her windpipe was heavy, only when her vision started to go black did he loosen his grip, watching with satisfaction as she coughed, tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘I said,’ she rasped. ‘I said try it I’ll bite your cock off.’

He roared in rage, biting down hard on the soft flesh between neck and shoulder. She jolted in his grip, her cry painful in her throat. Gripping both of her hips he drove into her again and again, chasing his own satisfaction. Every drag of him was the lick of hellsfire, too much for her body. His hands smoothed up her belly, claws dragging on her breasts, mouth tasting the bruises on her neck. She trembled beneath him, shocks of pleasure-pain shivering through the sweat and blood on her skin.

‘Poor little mouse,’ he whispered huskily in her ear. ‘You must be exhausted.’ He nosed her jaw. ‘What will your companions say when you stumble into camp barely able to walk, smelling like me?’ He slowed his pace, flipped her onto her stomach and gathered her hair in his fist, pulling her head back. She could barely form a coherent thought, a creature of sensation. Pain in her throat, breath at her ear, fire and fullness inside her, his weight crushing her down.

‘Just finish it, coward,’ she said finally. She was satisfied to anger him, braced her hands against the desk and rode each violent thrust out, his black hair tickling her skin as he held the nape of her neck between his jaws. He groaned at every sound that escaped her lips, fucking her into submission. With a final few thrusts he came, pouring heat into her, teeth and claws and weight keeping her still underneath him.

‘Your first lesson,’ he whispered. ‘But we’re not done, not yet, little mouse. Not with such a delicious morsel as you. No. You will stay a while. I’ll return you to the mortal plane… eventually.’

The house always wins, she thought, as he sucked a bruise beneath her jaw, her trembling body yielding, softening like candle wax under a flame.

I can't remember who I tagged for this one so sorry about that.

[cripplecharacters]

Hiya!! I’ve got a couple of stories I’m currently working on and because I also draw a lot, I like making illustrations for the stories. One of my protagonists experiences psychosis, and occasionally suffers with hallucinations. When drawing hallucinations (or expressing other elements of psychosis), is there anything major to avoid doing? For reference, the main reference for how I was going to draw them was similar to how the show Arcane expresses psychosis, since I like the artistic direcrion of the show overall, and I’ve been only positive feedback on how Jinx’s mental health was portrayed.

Hi!

I think it depends on what kind of hallucinations she has. I personally liked the way Arcane did it, and I think it works both for Jinx as a character and the show in the aesthetic sense.

However, I think it could be cool to visually show that for a lot of people, hallucinations aren't “obvious”. They can be incredibly regular things or just be “kinda weird/out of place” rather than clearly impossible to onlookers (in this case, readers)

Someone could also have both - they could hallucinate a person who definitely isn't there (like Jinx seeing [characters who have died]) but also have some that are just... hard to differentiate as an actual hallucination (like seeing a regular dog being outside, appliances being on, sounds that make sense but aren't there, etc.). Arguably, if she has both, the second ones become much harder to spot in comparison.

Another thing is what kind of things she's hallucinating. For Jinx, they were distressing and related to traumatic events, so the whole experience is obviously intense and full of PTSD flashbacks. This makes sense for her as a character. I really liked the tense slow-motion that was used in some earlier scenes of her as a child and the exact opposite used for her older self with the quick cuts and incredibly rapid pace, because it really can be like either of these.

But then again: some people see things so boring that there's no emotional reaction. Sometimes people don't realize they're hallucinating because the hallucination in question is a stranger sitting on a bench you're walking next to in a perfectly normal fashion, or something else that you wouldn't pay attention to, hallucination or not. I know of people who look through their phone/camera lens at things they think might be hallucinations because they don't show up on photos, and they just want to make sure (I've done this with audio recordings before). Would someone like this experience psychosis the same way as Jinx, who is shown surrounded by neon sketches of beasts with giant sharp-teethed mouths barking at her? Possibly! But there's a big chance it's simply not as intense in the visual sense (it can still be incredibly stressful on the inside).

So to kinda answer the question, it depends on the above. What is her relationship with her hallucinations? Some people like theirs, hallucinations can be positive or neutral, even comforting. Is she used to them? Does she know that she's hallucinating? Why is she hallucinating exactly (flashback? stress? under the influence? no reason? fatigued?)? Does she have “regulars”? They don't have to be literally people that show up regularly, but things or just general themes that can be related to the person's life. You might have one set of hallucinations that appear as a result of X, and a different that shows up when Z happens (with Jinx, she hallucinates [dead characters] very realistically when general PTSD flashbacks happen, but much more abstractly when confronted in a stressful, overwhelming situation where she's panicking). Is she only hallucinating impossible things, regular events, something in-between, or all of the above? (As someone in the last category, I'd love to see that.) Are there sounds, tactile feeling, smell, taste? (I guess hard to convey visually on a drawing, but still something I'd love to see, delusional parasitosis is such a classic it has its own name)

It might make perfect sense for your character to experience her hallucinations in the same visual manner as Jinx, but they might also just look like another slice-of-life panel with nothing out of the ordinary, they may be just slightly “off” with the hallucinations sticking out like interactive objects in video games, or maybe the entire hallucination is just the sound of neighbors arguing upstairs. Which again: the latter options can be hard to do visually, but if you establish that place X looks like that and definitely doesn't have that object in there, and house Z definitely doesn't have a second floor, you can clue readers in a more subtle way that I think could also show that sometimes psychosis is easy to miss.

Psychosis is diverse, and I don't feel like I can't say that there are contents of it that “shouldn't be shown”. People absolutely hallucinate demons, ghosts, blood, or other “stereotypical” things; there is a kernel of truth in the “evil hallucinations” trope (though that's where the truth ends to be honest). For every person who tells you to not draw shadowy figures as an example of a hallucination, you will have two people who will tell you that it happened to them last week.

The thing I'd urge you to not do is much less concerned with actual hallucinations, and more with their context in their story and how they are portrayed.

The point is to not demonize it in narrative, and understand that the character isn't their hallucinations - they're not “subconscious desires” or proof of anything, they're not a sign of something supernatural happening, and they're not any kind of indicator of the person's morality or potentially being dangerous. And, I can't stress this enough, they aren't “predicting the future”. Don't use the psychosis as a Chehov's gun or other implication that the delusions are real for the sake of your psychotic readers.

Sorry for the non-answer answer but I hope it helps,

mod Sasza

[alluralater]

okay. i had an absolutely insane dream last night.

i was thighs spread on either side of the lap of a very very gorgeous human being. her hands were like fire all over me, nails digging into my skin, and i was wearing that outfit from last night. white button up, black mini skirt, black tie. we are messy hungry lips and she’s fervently pulling me closer to her by my hips, hands sliding under my skirt and then out. i’m breathless need. fingers not fast enough undoing these buttons and practically trying to tear off my top. i need her so desperately that my lungs burn. she can tell and she’s whispering something into my mouth. my lips are swollen and my head is only filled with this driven need to have her inside me, on me. she’s whispering to my lips how she needs to taste me but she’ll settle for something lesser instead. one hand to my lower back and the other sliding below my thigh, she flips our bodies and pulls me underneath her. there is no time to register the change in position because she is on me, pulling my leg to the curve of her waist, pressing herself against me in a way that makes me moan with such want that i have forgotten these stupid buttons and one of my arms shoots back behind my head to the arm of her couch. it is instinctive, finding leverage to rock myself against her. i can feel this ache like i could die now. right now if she is not inside me soon i will fucking die. but then her fingers are between our pressed together bodies, and she is pulling my skirt up just enough to slide those fingers over my black lace panties.

she is watching my eyes. my parted lips and chest rising and falling, watching my heartbeat in the hollow of my throat racing. she is watching me with those beautifully dark eyes, perfectly bowed lip, her tongue flicks out to lick it. she is watching me when i drag in a sharp breath as her fingers pull my panties to the side and rub slowly into my wetness, careful to avoid my clit. such change of pace compared to how we were before. like she knows it would be too easy for me to expect we carry on with wild speed and intensity. like she wants me to savor her touch. my head falls back and i can only let out the softest moan, mind swimming. the texture of her fingers, our clothes, the warmth. it is all too real. especially when i know that it is not. i know that i am dreaming. i think she knows that i do because a smile appears on her face and she is pushing two fingers inside me to keep me here with her. her thumb sweeping back and forth over my swollen clit. yes i am present. i also cannot breathe. it is not the weight of her body on mine but the weight and substance of this subject matter holding me down down down beneath her precisely pretty body. this is reality now. she flicks her eyes to my top and without a word i understand. i get it. fuck i get it. her fingers working me with agonizing slowness. in and out. gentle fullness. ripe moment. she wants to eat up with her eyes everything else i have to offer while her fingers take what has been laid for her claim. yes, i get it. and i should be unbuttoning this trap of a blouse already. my fingers are shaking and my nerve endings don’t seem to care about my hands anymore. all sensations are centered at my core. stupidly shaking appendages, but i’m separating each button from its paired hole while she is placing warm lips to every open exposure of skin. i can’t think i can’t think. but i’ve done it. black lace bra. the cup of one breast she pulls down so quickly i almost shout but it is a broken gasp instead because her lips are around my stiffening nipple and drawing it into her mouth between her teeth. i clench around her fingers inside me and moan like there has never been more perfectly joined synchronicity of sensation. though i could not be more wrong, because now all hell breaks loose. she is fucking into me hard and fast. i can hear how wet i’ve become. schlk schlck schlk. one of my hands in her hair, the other still above me. my leg round her waist. fuck fuck fuck oh my god yes. please please yes. there is saliva pooling under my tongue, pleasure centers all aglow, nipples hard, and her fingers pumping inside me on each thrust inward sends a radiating pulse throughout my body. i am a live wire. gasping— moaning, whining, fucking mess.

she is using her sharp teeth to score my soft skin. leaning in close to my ear and telling me i should stay for awhile. that i should stay her with her. i don’t have to leave yet. i always leave too soon. and i am nodding, nearly sobbing beneath the force of her words which perfectly match the mercilessness of her fingers, thumb still rubbing my clit. hot broken heat, i can’t imagine being anywhere else, though i also can’t remember being here with her before now. she says she likes my outfit tonight. her warm tongue on my neck and she’s telling me that she hasn’t seen me in a tie for so many years. that if i leave now she will not get to wrap my wrists in it or pull it over my eyes. i can’t breathe. everything is building. darling. my darling. my darling, mine. us, for each other. everything is overwhelming. her free hand is around my throat now and she’s lovingly rubbing her thumb over my pulse point. the other hand— shlck shlck shlck. she’s circling her tongue around my earlobe. i can’t fucking breathe, but i find it in me to speak. wet. so fucking wet. i’m so close. something like a hum coaxing more words from my lips. she’s in my ear. sweet murmurs of firm decadence. and then she’s telling me that it is okay. i can let go now. cum for her. now. her nails press against my artery and her fingers pump my wet pussy with such intensity that i don’t have a fucking choice. my fingers in her hair tighten and i am crying. tears down my cheeks and im clenching and cumming around her fingers. breaking into millions of pieces, and she is there. murmuring into my ear, telling me it’s okay. her lips soft and perfect there against my skin, guiding me through it. telling me that i will always come back to her. i do not know what she means but it is exactly what i need because the longer she speaks the harder it is for me to keep hold of myself here in this space and place. she tells me one last thing, beautiful eyes above mine. i am in a haze of unthinking bliss. perfect partition away from anything else. she kisses me on the corner of my mouth, then full press to my lips. i love you.

and then i am awake. what the actual fuck was that??