#sorry for the unfinished look lmao

[maxcreatesthings]

hey jercy fans :D have a little doodle of the sillies that i made <3

The digital doodle

And the original doodle!!

[scoliosisgoblin]

Which version of Rick is your fav?

it's so hard for me to choose tbh. HOWEVER, I'd say Evil Rick

then I'd say it's C-137 and Memory Rick

I love how pathetic™ Evil Rick really is tbh. love that he's being controlled by his Morty. can you guess who my favorite Morty is?

[undermostcorgi]

drawing other people's dnd characters based on the image i made of them in my head and NOTHING ELSE because i'm evil

[vvienne]

in some nebulous post canon where no one I like dies I want a fic where like. In an attempt to establish that he’s not as grossly possessive of james as sarcean was of anharion will is like yeah I totally wouldn’t mind if james wanted to fuck someone else... i could be flexible like that. cue disbelieving side eyes but for some bullshit reason this blatant lie is put to the test and the ot4 has to be consummated….. will and violet & will and cyprian have no chemistry to me sexually but every other configuration would maybe work? james and cyprian can have miserable pseudo-incestous last of their kind sex. violet and james can have weird slantways sex where they are both acutely aware of being will's creatures. i think this would be cathartic to them. will can seethe in the corner while desperately trying to hide how worked up and jealous he feels until he figures out some way to get over it and into it

[tellie-vision-art]

Wanting more Priyaxel content but also knowing if I want it that badly I will have to make it myself bc it feels like no one actively ships it/makes content for it anymore 😭

I feel like a loser here in my corner hyped up over something no one else cares about and I’m kinda embarrassed about it 😩 like I have thoroughly convinced myself now that I am dumb for shipping it bc no one sees it like I do and people are perceiving me as weird and overdramatic about it 😔

[phyrestartr]

Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.2) NSFW

W/C: 3.2k #NSFW, THEY FUCKIN', bottom!reader, top!sukuna, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, sukuna ignores feelings through the force of sheer willpower, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, dubcon elements, blood as lube (SORRY), Sukuna unhinged horknee, ABO elements

A/N: I wanted to make this include more parts, but I am so flabbergasted and in awe of the response to this fic that I feel the need to feed y'all feral creatures LMAO. JKJK but 👀 Thank you for all the feedback and support! It really gives me the motivation to continue writing and to interact with the JJK community. I'm having a lot of fun!

tags: @kamote-kuneho @kamote-kuneho @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @3zae-zae3 @chibiduck @kiiyoooo @lukaijah

“What the fuck is this?” Sukuna drawled, an intense fury simmering through his being. His gaze couldn't tear free from you, not even to size up the blindfolded weirdo watching him intently. 

He shattered the coffin, freeing you from the makeshift cursed bath some freak had forced you into. He smoothed damp hair from your sickly face and searched for sparks of life somewhere in the cold stillness that'd overtaken you. And there was something. He found it, a little glimmer of vitality in the smallest, shakiest inhale. 

“Good,” he praised, brushing your hair back more and more to get a better look at your face. You looked like the frail little thing he saved all those decades ago.

“You know,” Gojo interrupted, but Sukuna paid him no mind, “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you actually cared about that kitsune.” 

“Then you don't know what this is,” Sukuna decided blandly. “Figures.” Kenjaku kept him off the record, huh? Guess that's a bonus.

“Oh? Do you wanna enlighten me before Yuuji comes back?” Gojo smiled, as if he really expected Sukuna to play nice and be honest with him. “Come on, come on, it's your chance to be vulnerable~” 

“Tch. Pretty damn sure the fox'll be the one to tell you.” His hand smoothed over your stomach and rubbed slow, gentle circles against your skin as reverse technique sought to bring you all back to him. “He yaps about as much as your insufferable ass does. Granted, he talks a lot nicer.” 

“Wow, rude.” Gojo sighed and clapped twice as if clapping on a light. “Okay! I've had enough bullying. Yuuji–” 

“Brat, don't you fucking dare–” 

Yuuji inhaled sharply. He blinked owlishly at your calmed expression, your eyes now closed and breathing now steadied thanks to Sukuna's aid. 

Aid. That wasn't something the king did. 

“Sensei,” Yuuji managed, voice quivering under the weight of memories’ emotion. “Can you fix this?”

Somehow, you were stuck in the throes of flirtation with the malevolent king of curses. 

“It may be courtship,” Uraume guessed, soft smile brightening their cold exterior. 

(They'd been smiling more recently, actually, ever since you completed that overcoat and presented it to them. Nary a day went by when they did not don the sentimental garb.)

But you weren't so sure; the event of courtship was serious business across all lucid creatures. Animals and creatures of primal existence sought out partners with favorable genes and strong constitution, whereas humans and the like yearned for merit or love in their coupling. You didn't quite grasp the way humans thought. Not yet. 

Well, save for flirting. You decided it was a sort of pre-courtship where nothing became serious and nothing was on the line, but frivolous touches and haughty words of praise ran rampant when those concerned crossed paths. 

Much like today.

(Much like the days before and after.)

You walked along the stone-paved path most mornings, lost in thoughts and mumbling to yourself bits and pieces of poems. Most were unfinished, but in their own time, verses would find one another and complete the incomplete. 

A groggy yawn hummed from the palace entrance. And moments later, Ryoumen Sukuna fell into step with you, grumbling and mumbling complaints about the nippy Spring morning while he tucked his arms away into his sleeves. 

He followed you, idly looking around the expansive space you'd helped curate and maintain when you weren't busying yourself with the girls or decorating clothing. The gardens weren't a mess before, not at all, but now they had a certain taste–trees and flowers were planted with specificity, stones were moved, paths reworked. You took the outside over completely. The king didn't mind. 

“Sukuna-sama,” you said, voice melting in kind with the morning frost. “I'll need to leave for a short while.” 

Sukuna quirked a brow and looked at you. You gazed upon the large, thick koi flashing their beautiful scales and ornate patterns of orange and white as they swam and followed you. Tch. How come even the fish were drawn to you? 

“And how do you think you'll accomplish that?” Sukuna tossed a rock into the koi pond, making the fish scatter. “Getting away from me isn't something you can do.”

You huffed and looked at him. “I understand. I simply seek your permission.” 

“Denied.”

“Ah.” You deadpanned. “Why?”

“You're mine; I decide where you go, how you breathe, if you eat. Or are you forgetting that?” 

You sighed and let your ears droop sadly with your tails. “Surely you jest.” 

“Are you laughing?”

You whined like a sad, sad street pup before cozying up to him, slipping your hands up his stomach and chest like you were supposed to. “Please?” 

“No.” 

You chittered and pressed your face against him, but didn't protest and complain much more. 

Sukuna’s thoughts whirled. The show was amusing, sure, but you didn't do anything without reason, especially when it had to do with breaking character and acting out like this out of–

Oh? 

Sukuna leaned down and sniffed you, searching for the intriguing coil of flowery citrus he nearly missed on the warming breeze. It was so, so faint, but decadent and alluring in a way that made the master of toxins cautious–most poisons tasted sweet, after all. 

You pulled your head back, shrinking down the slightest bit with your ears flattened against your skull. Your eyes, wide as a full moon, stared up at him, expectant. The touch of your hands on him never left, though.

“Brassavola nadosa.” Sukuna tilted his head. “You smell like it.” 

You blinked curiously, relaxing. “Is that so?” 

We don't have that orchid in the garden. Sukuna hummed and lifted a lock of your hair, catching another weak waft of the flower's faint scent. 

It's coming from him, then. Hm. 

“Tell me again why you want to leave the palace?” Sukuna asked on a hunch.

And that hunch doubled down when you fidgeted with the cloth of his haori and looked aside. 

“I wish to bear children," you admitted, shy and quiet. "To try, at the very least. Perhaps find a mate, too.” 

Children. You wanted children. After everything those sorcerers put you through for who knows how many years, you still wanted to mother a runt of your own. And you were willing to run off into the wild to, what, let some random man knock you up? Fill you with seed of unknown origin, unknown value, unknown potential?

Sukuna's ego flared. He leaned down to you, tilting your chin up to make you look him in the eyes regardless how small you felt in that moment. He deserved to witness you. You deserved to witness him. 

“You're not leaving,” he breathed, and he swore he could hear your heart break. “If you want a brat, you'll get a brat–only if you stay here 'n give up on those shitty thoughts of finding a sire out there.”

Your eyes scanned his face, tracing over serious lines and honest creases. Clearly, you searched for an answer–

“How?” 

–one that Sukuna didn’t have. Or maybe he did. Perhaps he just couldn't find the words for it. 

He scoffed and ruffled up your hair, unable to answer you. “You're not leaving. Not unless I say so.” 

The first time he let you go, he left scars. 

He found you in your chambers come early evening. Your tails swished and flicked as you sat amidst a nest of his robes and the missing linens from his chambers while you futzed over the embroidery of another haori, this time adorning the plain thing with the darkest scarlet one could find. Sukuna could already guess why. 

Your being burns as wildfires do. Lively. Emphatically. Devouring more and more so long as the earth lets you. Yet where you do not lay ruin, you grant warmth and light in a divine way. Wildfires are not such horrible things if one stays a respectable ways away. 

Your poetic nonsense irritated him to no end, but he fell enamored all the same; you spoke to honor him with every utterance of his name. You didn't try to kiss his feet nor did you bask him in compliments–you only spoke into existence that which hummed through your mind, unprovoked. It just so happened to be everything Sukuna liked to hear. 

So when he found you secluded away, beckoning so sweetly with intoxicating scents of citrus and gardenia, what choice did he have but to lay claim, to give you the brat you so sorely yearned for?  

You sensed him. Your gaze flicked to him, stoic and unmoved as ever, as the energy in the room built into suffocating silence, something like tectonic plates caught in deadlock, holding their disastrous energy, waiting for the right moment to devastate the world with a single, cataclysmic shift.

And of course, it was the impatient predator that moved first, setting a catastrophe into motion. 

The hours blurred together. 

Every minute of the chase was thrilling, invigorating, surprising–you were filled with tricks and traps, never slowing down for a second to think or doubt as the beast of a sorcerer pursued you through his palace, through the city below, and now into the looming forest in the mountains. 

Admittedly, he'd gotten carried away. He lost himself in the rush of it all, the adrenaline and pure, destructive desire pushed his self-control into unraveling just the slightest bit; honest attacks tore through space and time, hoping to maim and cripple you if they were to hit. And, honestly, the way you avoided his attempts to strike you down enthralled him as much as it enraged him–he was seconds away from unleashing his domain until a less-than-satisfying ripple of cursed energy tore across your thigh and put you down.

It was then, walking up to you, to his prey, that Sukuna remembered you weren't a sorcerer. Most would be able to stand and walk it off, maybe even heal with reverse technique, but you could only grasp at your weeping wound and grimace. Because you were not a sorcerer, you were a kitsune: a trickster, a creature full of mischief and void of cursed energy. 

Yokai. Not a human. Not a curse. Not like the rest of the boring souls wandering his earth. 

Sukuna pinned you the second you tried to make a break for it. Fangs and claws gnashed and tore into him while his hands strained to keep you down and rip those damn clothes free from your burning skin. 

Mating's never a pretty thing when it comes to nature. Humans like you made it something more.

Sukuna clasped a hand over your mouth and forced his weight onto you, ripping reedy yowls from your core as you twisted and turned, primal mind urging you to run, run, run, don't make this easy, make him prove his worth–

Rip.

Ribbons of what were once your robes fluttered to the ground, useless and unsalvageable. They were plain black, so unlike what you usually wore. You wouldn't miss them. 

“Make this as difficult as you want, pet,” Sukuna whispered as he loomed over you. His hand slid from your mouth to your throat when you stilled.  

“You know how this ends.” 

His pants were pulled down while another hand wiped slippery blood against your pliant entrance–and that was the only warning you got before he pushed into you. 

Where you should have screamed, you instead sighed. Your back arched off the ground like a work of art. Two hands gave up on holding you down in favour of gripping your waist and hips, pulling you closer to him, forcing you flush against his body. 

He noticed it then: a litany of old scars and discoloured marks shining against your skin. Marks left by those who did not deserve to taste such a delicacy. 

Unsightly.

Blood painted the grass. Cleaves and slashes ate away at those tainted scars, painting over the ugliness left hidden for too long–now, his marks would decorate you. Now, those hidden scars would mean something. They’d mean everything. 

Yet Sukuna's selfish maiming wasn't fitting the bill, and your antsy-ness was proof of it. You tried for the last time to pull from him, but his grip tightened around your throat. You gazed at him, then, eyes so wide and hungry, eager to fight or fuck–whichever came first. 

He braced over you and nearly winced as he dragged out of your suffocating heat. A sharp snap back inside loosened you, the glide of blood and slick aiding him. 

“I'll take you the way you need it,” he drawled as he built the pace quickly, already feeling his own obsession and excitement reverberating through his body, filling every fibre of muscle with electricity.

“Then,” he growled, leaning closer to your face. “I'll fuck you the way you want it.”

“More,” you sighed, digging your nails into the pillow you had your face buried in while the beast fucked you from behind. Sukuna groaned in compliance and lanced into your guts deeper, harder, faster than before–you were the only one that could handle the brutal way he let loose, and he was more than willing to indulge in that privilege. 

The hands all over you rose to the occasion, too; one had your tails fisted in his ruthless grasp, rudely holding you still and pulling you back against his hips; another rested on the curve of your ass, only moving to give a sharp slap or to knead your soft, perfect skin; the last two held your hips in a crushing force, his calloused fingers digging into your plush sides and sharp hip bones like you might disappear at any second. 

A sharp, sweet whine signaled the beginning of the end, as did the restless fidgeting and shifting in the king's grasp. Seeing you, a poised, powerful, mischievous being, come undone beneath him came to be one of Sukuna’s favourite sights, especially knowing it could only be because of him--only him. 

He leaned over you, his heavy chest pressing into your back as one hand released your waist in favour of fisting in your hair and tugging your head back and out of the futon you so desperately clung to. 

“Ah-ah,” he scolded breathily. “No hiding.” It was a familiar sentiment, one he had no problem reminding you of now and again. You had a horrible habit of trying to vanish when overwhelmed, after all. 

“Terrible beast,” you snapped back, scoffing indignantly when the deep bassy laugh of the man rolled through your body. “Horrible.” 

“You love it,” Sukuna growled back, grinning through every word. 

Something about it clearly struck a chord with you, judging by how fast you choked on your voice and came undone, legs trembling and body tightening around the too-big intrusion. The king groaned and bit at your neck, licking whatever blood beaded at the surface in between rushed, hushed words of praise for you and your efforts–most, if they heard the things he said, would call it out of character for the beast. Most didn't get to see beyond his raw power and crippling cruelty, however. 

Sukuna grunted and spilled inside you, pulling you back by your hair, hips and tail to ensure he forced every bit of his offerings deep into your core. Your body rocked and twitched against his, accepting all he had to offer you at the end of yet another coupling, before he let go of your locks and let you collapse face-first into the futon. 

He pulled out slowly, watching as every inch slipped from your abused hole before popping free and uncorking a dribble of whiteness from inside. He tutted and scooped it up with two fingers before stuffing it back in. 

“Oi, oi, are you even trying to keep it in?” He teased, smirking as you huffed. 

“You've exhausted me. I have no energy to attempt the impossible,” you lamented, nuzzling your nose further into the soft sheets smelling of cedar and fresh blooms–something so uniquely Sukuna. 

Your king sighed and gave your ass a firm few pats. “Guess I'll have to spoil you even more.” He settled onto his back and easily pulled you onto him, yanking you up to straddle his waist right where that second mouth laid open and eager to taste you. 

“This is uncouth,” you sighed. But you rocked back against the thick, heavy tongue pressing into your pliant heat, licking deep into you with a mind and hunger of its own. 

“Seems couth enough for you,” he commented, watching you ride his centre with rapt attention. “Little harlot's getting off on this, hey? Such a needy little brat.” 

His hands smoothed up and down your legs and sides as you shamelessly chased a second high. Your hands clasped over his as he took you into his hand and stroked you back to ample stiffness, the soreness of too many rounds of fucking making you far too sensitive to touch. 

“S-Sukuna-sama,” you stammered. “I can't–”

Sukuna's head tilted with a pleased smirk. “Ho? I thought you wanted to bear children? Are my offerings not enough for you?” 

You scrunched your face up into something of a prissy glare, but the shine clinging to your lashes and the shuddering of your body against his betrayed your crumbling demeanor. Of course, he was impressed with how his fox was fairing considering everything he put you through. 

He maneuvered you onto your back, grinning as you growled and weakly struggled against him. You looked perfect–stomach swollen, hair fanned out behind you, eyes teary but unable to tear away from the creature that’d tormented you for hours upon hours with no desire to give you a break. 

“Greedy god,” Sukuna lamented. One hand came to rest on your bruised neck again, fitting around so perfectly. “Nothing’s ever fucking good enough for you.” 

“You are.” 

That gave Sukuna pause. He stared down at you, all eyes looking over you with rapt attention as he tried to think. Tried to understand. Tried to parse those words and uncover what exactly you tried to convey. 

But it didn't click. 

“Tch. You're lucky I'm a generous god,” he scolded, releasing you from your torment in favour of collapsing down beside you for some much-needed rest. Not only did your beautiful body wear him out (not that he'd admit it), but your whimsical words wore his sanity thin. The worst part was you didn't even intend to damage him so. 

“I am truly honoured to merely be in your presence,” Your voice, light and dreamy as petals fluttering, laughed, and Sukuna's soul did something odd. 

He stared at the ceiling as you shuffled beside him, quickly returning to his side, donned in one of his haori and determined to make a comfortable nest of blankets and clothes around you both for the rest of the night–ah, morning? Huh. What an ordeal. 

You curled up next to him, shoving your back firmly against his side the way you often did when resting as a fox, and Sukuna huffed. 

“Turn to me,” he commanded, and you obeyed. 

He, too, turned to face you to envelope your lithe form with invincible arms and divine protection. Your soft purrs rolled through him, settling his wild spirit into a lazy tempo of an early morning stroll through a garden filled with one sort of white orchid: 

Brassavola nadosa. “Lady of the Night.” Your calling card. Your divine essence.

"Brassavola nodosa (Lady of the Night) is a medium-sized epiphytic or lithophytic orchid species boasting extremely fragrant flowers throughout the year. The blossoms, 4 in. across (10 cm), emit a citrus fragrance at night. Each flower features long, slender, pale green or creamy-white sepals and petals and a large, heart-shaped lip sometimes adorned with purple or dark red spotting." - gardenia.net

[neteyamsilly]

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 3

summary ;; Sullys stick together. You learn the hard way what happens when you don't. PART 2 | PART 4 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; descriptions of blood and violence incoming, beware! shout out to the ppl who predicted the stuff in this chapter LMAO so um... i couldnt tag everybody who asked when i said i would... there's apparently a limit to how many people you can tag. please forgive me 😭 im not taking any tagging requests anymore since i cant do it. so sorry about that,,,, seriously also, thank you so much for 1160 followers! i still cant fucking believe it... daddy issues solidarity 🤙🏻🤙🏻

“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”

Rain covered the rustling of clothes and the click-clacks of readjusted weapons as concentrated silence hung in the air, thick and heavy like the morning mist swallowing up the forest.

No answer. 

What face could your parents be making right now? Heartbeat in your ears, you tried to hide your shame by looking down, but a jerk on your queue set you straight. the avatar holding you digging his gun sharper in your neck.    

“What, cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” The leader’s stare found yours. “Let me give you a quick remedy.” 

They’d linked your device into another for the sound to be relayed outside and the voice detection range could be wider, in other words, they wanted your father to hear what was happening to you. Your braid was yanked as if the one pulling it wanted to snap it right off your skull, no amount of training could stop the scream torn out of you — all the show just for him. 

The line was deadly still, save for some rustling, crackling static that you could have easily mistaken for hissing.

A ghost of a smile shadowed the man’s face, he extended his rifle to tip your chin up. “Guess we’re gonna have to be louder than that to wake daddy up sweetheart.” 

“Stop!” Father yelled, the unexpected timing of it made you jump. That earned him a group chuckle from the avatars around you. “Stop.”

He talked. He didn’t leave you to fend for yourself in this. Thank Eywa!

“That was fast,” the captor behind you said. 

“Thought you’d have forgotten English by now, playing native.”

“...Quaritch?” 

Quaritch. That awful, awful man from the stories your mother killed? Spider’s father? But… But he was dead. How could sky people know how to cheat death?

“In the flesh.” 

Father’s voice wavered, you’d think he was scared if you didn’t know any better. “That’s impossible.”

“Back from the grave just for you, Jake.”

“Then I’ll just have to put you right back where you belong.”

The squad of avatars openly laughed at that, boisterous, confident, arrogant. 

This was Toruk Makto they were openly mocking. None of them would last for one minute in front of him and yet—

“Quite the teary lovers reunion we’re havin’ here, but you got busy while I was gone, huh?” He looked down at you again, yellow eyes filled with mirth. “I have this tiny bird here we plucked right out of the air. Imagine my surprise to learn she’s yours. Is this the only one, or you got yourself a litter now?”

Silence again. 

“What do you want?”

“Straight to the point as always.” The smug smile momentarily twitched into an unamused, withheld resentment. This man was nearing the end of his capacity to keep taunting. “I don’t think I’ll tell yet. You know I love to be a tease.”

Your ears rotated upwards in treacherous hope at your father's next words. “If you touch one hair on my daughter’s head I swear to god—”

“You exchanged your god for this shithole, Jake. Let’s not kid ourselves now.” Any hint of playing around was gone, now, eyes fixated on something on the ground ahead. “Your daughter will be my guest for a while. Think of it as summer vacation. Don’t worry, unlike the Na’vi, we’re very hospitable.” His thumb brushed over a button. “Until next time.”

“Fucking bastard—”

With one beep, the call was over. Quaritch was touching the band around his neck this time. “Iron Sky, Blue on Actual. We are standing by for extract, over.” 

You began to tussle against the avatar behind your back. “No! No! Let me go!” 

“Be advised. We're bringing in a high value prisoner.”

“Dad’s really gonna flay her alive this time, I can’t wait.” Lo’ak, positioned just behind the flap of the tent to not be seen from the outside as he peeked with one eyeball just in case, was watching his parents vehemently yell at each other in whispers that started out loud, but got hushed probably to not reach him and his siblings. Aggressive limb gestures were flying in the air, and at one point, his mom had tried to run off somewhere and was forcefully stopped. 

Dad was currently pacing around like a wild animal with one hand permanently stuck rubbing his face, and mom turned away from him, holding her forehead. “They’re really going at it, huh?

Kiri was not amused with his insistence to breach their privacy. “What’s so interesting about watching this kind of thing?”

“Catharsis?” He remarked in English, feeling sophisticated. “You remember Spider talking about it? Purification and emotional cleansing through relief that you’re not going through the horrible tragedy, the character on stage is.” 

“You’re normally so dumb.” Lo’ak bore his fangs at her matter-of-fact tone of voice. “Your brain only comes back on when it’s about chaos.”

“I’m petty, and what about it?” A tilt of his head to dare Kiri to ask for her point, then his attention was thwarted by an incomprehensible cry from his mother. She was pushing dad from his arms, furious like Lo’ak had never seen before as the upset man tried to hold her more. “Look at mom and dad breathing fire at each other! You think they’re discussing how to punish her?”

“Stop spying already skxawng, mom will be angry if she sees you. We’re supposed to be in bed.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to listen here!” His ears were tilting at every angle to make out any words that reached to him as nothing but a cluster of broken sounds. “Why did they have to go far?” 

“Because they wanted to be away from peeping toms like you?”

“And you’re still here too, so?” Lo’ak gave his sister a meaningful look. “I know you wanna see too.”

“Ugh!” Kiri shoved out her tongue at him, eyes dead. “And it’s not funny, by the way! They are fighting. Stop being happy about it.”

He knew they were fighting about his older sister, and that she’d get all the heat and fallout from it the moment she was back. Lo’ak’s head was full of what he could get out of it, or what to ask her for in return for helping her out in her detention. So satisfying to be the sibling who wasn’t in trouble. He should do it more, actually. “It is funny when it’s not about me.” 

“You’re sick for taking joy in another’s suffering.”

“Oh, I’m doomed, then.” Kiri took whatever fat was on his thin arm between her thumb and forefinger, and twisted. Lo’ak had to blink away the tears that rushed to his eyes, snatching his limb away from the displeased girl and pushing her away in return — he was annoyed at how much that hurt, why was that so damaging for no reason? “Yeouch! What the hell?”

“Will it kill you to practice mindfulness once in a while?” 

He raised his voice’s pitch to mock the wobbly, ear-scratching whine of yours, and exaggerated his body movements to match, too. “I hate you!”  

“Gross.” She tried to shove him, he caught her hands in the air, pushing her back and getting the spiteful annoyance of his sister as a result. “Dad was actually hurt by that.” Lo’ak’s eyes could roll down the hills by themselves the way that sounded, but Kiri, as always, was bothered so inexplicably. “I don’t like this. I have a bad feeling.”

That bad feeling was the herald of dad’s upcoming cranky ill-temper and what would follow after you inevitably had to come crawling back home with tail between your legs, Neteyam dragging you from the scruff of your neck. Lo’ak was refusing to sleep so he could enjoy the fight. 

“Me personally, am over the moon, ikran duty is so gonna be off my hands. For months.” He halted at the idea that just went off in his head, tail swishing with the hype. “I wanna tell Spider. I’ll go get him.”

“Absolutely not. You sneak off now and they’ll laser-focus all the anger on you!” Kiri was pointing a warning hand at him, but slowly lowered it, one corner of her mouth twitching up. She was holding back amusement. “Hey, you know what? Nevermind, you can go. I want you to go. I have to see this.”

“Ha-ha.” Lo’ak’s tail stuttered, losing enthusiasm. “Attempted murder, much?”

“Guys, what’s going on…”

Upon the unexpected voice that wobbled its way into their conversation, they both looked down to see Tuk gripping her weaved blanket with one hand and dragging it on the floor as she made her way to them, the other rubbing her eyes one by one so sleep dripping from them would fly away.

“See, you woke her up! What do we do now?”

“You woke her up by yelling, why is it my fault now?”

“I didn’t, you—”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did n—”

“Guys…” Tuk pulled on Kiri’s hand, and the foreign object she was clutching the whole time distracted Lo’ak. It must have dug into the older one’s skin that she carefully picked it up to inspect. The ear pieces they took off before they went to sleep. This one was Kiri’s.  “Neteyam’s calling. You didn’t hear…”

Grinning, Lo’ak snatched it up and skipped backwards and put it in his own ear, ignoring Kiri’s hushed yells to give it back now and the groans about ruining it with his stinky, cheesy earwax. He had to keep bouncing around, the girl was chasing him around the tent. “Bro! Tell her she’s sooo dead. Dad’s literally keeping guard in front of the tent—”

“Lo’ak, quit it.” Neteyam’s tremulous answer was harsh. Lo’ak’s smile wavered as he dodged Kiri’s arm and jumped over discarded cups on the floor, knocking over wooden spoons. “I need you to tell me what’s happening over there.”

“Aw, baby’s so scared to come back she needs to make a game plan first?” He laughed, slapping Kiri’s hands away. “I’ll only tell if she gives back my karambit knife.”

His older brother sighed, a bit too exasperated. 

“Yeah, I’m not letting that one go and I’m also making it your problem—”

“Lo’ak, she isn’t here.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”

“She isn’t here. I couldn’t find her.” Kiri bumped into him, unable to stop herself at the right time to hit the brakes due to how abruptly Lo’ak had stilled. They’d almost tumbled over. “Dad told me to wait until he contacts her and I’ve been waiting for minutes. Now tell me what’s going on over there.”

“Bro, you’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious, skxawng!” 

He turned to Kiri in disgusted discomfort, who had damn-near glued her own ear to his to hear better. “Forget months, I’ll be free for years. Dad’s not gonna let her take one step off the camp anymore.”

The girl would stomp her foot if she was a couple years younger. “What’s this about?”

And Neteyam would shake Lo’ak from the neck for ignoring him this long while he was fussing. “Tell me already you—!”

“They’re having a fight bro.” He leaned better to peep outside the tent. “Yeah.”

“She came back? Why didn’t you tell me?”

It was uncommon for Neteyam to completely disregard the previous input he’d been given. Lo’ak didn’t understand this level of anxiety. “Are you having a brain fart? Would we be having this conversation if she was here? It’s mom and dad who are fighting.”

It wasn’t that serious — on the contrary, his sister was quite simple to understand. She didn’t want to be found and had changed her place of hiding. End of story. The golden boy’s worrywart nature was keeping him from reasoning. 

“Don’t be a smartass.” Lo’ak practically felt Neteyam’s want to land a loud smack on his back. “Were they only able to reach her, then? Is that why they’re fighting?”

“You’re asking me?—”

The older boy began to grumble under his breath. “This is why I called Kiri.”

Said girl’s ears perked up over picking her name from the static-surrounded line. Lo’ak snorted. “Ouch, bro.”

Kiri shook him from the elbow. “Me? What about me?”

“Great title for your autobiography.”

Kiri raised her arms to give him a beating and Lo’ak was already bolting away from anywhere near her vicinity. The siblings didn’t even take notice of the line with Neteyam going dark as they focused on their own play-scuffle for a while. 

Until Lo’ak bumped into someone.

It wasn’t Tuk. 

Shoulders pulled into himself, he turned around torturously freaked out to find dad standing there like a ghost, his tactical vest packed to the brim and gun hanging from his back the way they wore their bows. 

The blue of his skin had faded into an ashier tone, amber eyes wide and bloodshot, the veins on the normally put together Olo’eyktan’s forehead were bulging, even a socially clueless person would pick up something was seriously wrong. He commanded cold authority of the battlefield simply by the way he stood, immediately triggering Lo’ak into soldier mode.  

He took a few steps back, chin hanging low at the lightless, unblinking stare his father pushed down on him. “Sir.”

All the sleepiness that had Tuk unresponsive and nodding off through Lo’ak and Kiri’s push-and-pull was knocked out of her at the sight, she was now unnerved and frightened. “Dad?”

The man’s intensity was somehow eased by his youngest’s reaction, but he held back from taking her in his arms like he normally would to comfort her, didn’t even care to remark on how they were supposed to be sleeping — how they’d woken their little sister up, instead focusing on Lo’ak. “I want you all to listen well. Your mother and I are heading out for a minute and your grandmother will be with you soon — Neteyam is Oscar-Mike to come back here. Stay put and don’t go anywhere, understand?” His finger pointed accusingly at him. “Don’t cause trouble. Looking at you boy, what I’m saying here is Marine proof. I’m at the end of my wits here, don’t even think about slipping a tail out of this tent.” 

The potent severity of whatever the hell was making him this agitated to the point of a voice so hoarse it was unrecognizable got the wheels in Lo’ak’s head whirring. “What’s happening, dad?”

“One child!” The thundering shout came down on him with the force of a falling mountain, making Lo’ak jump out of his skin. “I need one child of mine to listen to me without asking any questions today!” Dad’s voice broke when Tuk whined, he shut his eyes as if he was in physical pain, and flexed his jaw, shaking his head and pulling the girl in from her shoulders to soothe her. Still no direct hugging. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Lo’ak said immediately, distraught by the over-the-top reaction, hands unknowingly curling into fists by his sides. Whenever that sky people word ‘Jesus’ slipped from dad not having any control between the border of his two languages, the boy knew it was demanding gravitas. “I heard you CFB.”

“Good.” He thinned his lips. “Kiri, please.”

Lo’ak frowned at dad basically asking for her to play her brother’s keeper in Neteyam’s absence in two simple words.

She nodded. “I know dad.”

He caught a glimpse of his mother running in the distance, her father’s bow in her hand. 

Just what was happening? What had you done? 

Eywa, it had to be sky people. 

Dad saw the realization in his face. “Stay,” he emphasized, one final time before he was also gone with the wind. 

Lo’ak wouldn’t have obeyed if it wasn’t for his grandmother arriving just in time, keeping them busy with a story about the arrival of a wounded ikran with no rider.

You realized the gunshot wound puncturing your upper abdomen was there the whole time when the avatars put first aid and later slapped a rectangular sky people bandage on it that helped clotting or whatever it was called, the pain simply not being there had played a big factor in it with the body running on pure adrenaline. 

(Crouching close to you, Quaritch had bragged, “We aren’t so bad after all, huh, sweetheart? It’s called civilization. Your daddy ever taught you about that?”

Civilization, your ass. They needed you. There was nothing well-meaning about what they were doing.

And the nickname had ticked you off, sullying the good memories of father, your head slammed into his nose in full power after a hiss.

“Now my daddy taught me that!” you spat in English as other avatars had tackled you. The man claiming to be Quaritch was smiling as he wiped away the blood trickling down his nose.

What was the point in trying to patch you up if they were going to do this, then?)

You were now a part of an elaborate trap to lure your father in. Bait. The worst position to be in. This was the kind of trouble Lo’ak would get himself in. It was too late to go back now, the mess you’d gotten yourself into had made itself known. 

Think, think! How could you get out of this?

Within the unsleeping forest’s nightly noises chirping all around you, a specific call in the air halted your train of thought. 

It was mom. 

Your parents were here. But how? How did they know where you were, exactly? Dread and expectation pooled in your heart, coexisting in a nauseating mix. 

Father must be thinking that you already caused so much trouble, they couldn’t know you were also hurt, you’d never hear the end of it.

But there was no time to think, the pain you should have been feeling was ebbing its way into your body, and she was calling in the night to inform you to get ready.

All hell broke loose when the man who held you tight from your queue was shot right from the back of his head with an arrow, collapsing right on top of you. 

You couldn’t get away in time to not be crushed by his dead body and promptly got squished between the mossy soil and him, his gun was hurting you, the wound on your stomach getting in the way of you using your core to push the body off. 

How many minutes had passed with you struggling to get him off as a hurricane of bullets roared, you didn’t know (it hurt, pain was climbing towards the threshold) — mom was able to break free from the weight of a whole AMP suit, as you’d heard as a child, a Na’vi was naturally strong, but you couldn’t even crawl out. Panic was a rope tightening around your ribcage as your breathing picked up

All of a sudden, the weight was gone, and the only remaining thing from it was the big gun left from the avatar you found yourself hugging for dear life, eyes wide as saucers. Before you could see whoever had done that, you got hoisted up right back on your feet and tried to run, only to be held tighter and pulled behind the trunk of a tree.

“Hey, it’s me, it’s me!” Clumsy, overwrought hands were cupping your cheeks and — and oh, it was your father. 

You didn’t know whether to be afraid or cry from happiness.

Once he was sure you registered it was him by staring intently in your eyes with that edge of the softness you’d missed so much, his hold shifted to your neck and around your shoulders, and he gave you a look-over, checking for any wounds. Too bad what he was searching for was behind the gun you were holding. “Are you hurt?” He shook you when you were too stunned to answer. “Are you hurt at all?”

“No,” you shook your head automatically, it was weak against the explosions of bullets raining down all around you, but father had picked it up regardless, only focusing on you for the moment.

In the darkness, nobody could see the blood running down your body, that bandage had come out at one point. 

“On my mark, we’re gonna run, okay?” He nodded to you, tomahawk axe in hand coated in a dark substance, commanding your full attention. “Follow me. Ready? Ready?”

You weren’t ready at all, stomach feeling like it was being stabbed at every heartbeat, but you couldn’t tell him that. 

Instead, you ran like hell, moored by father’s taut clutch on your forearm pulling you forward to match his incredible speed dodging roots, bushes and branches. 

Things stopped moving only when you were enveloped in mom’s embrace, consciousness almost flying off from the relief that washed over you. Kisses were peppered along your hairline and forehead, her mumbling your name in gratitude blending with your panting. Tears burned bitter in your eyes, but you couldn’t cry, not when father was looking at you like that, chest rising and falling. You instantaneously remembered why you were holding that gun at the intensity he was radiating, tail escaping between your legs and letting mom hold you. 

At least this way he wasn’t able to objurgate you.  

Over her shoulder, you saw three ikrans instead of two. Heart soaring, you were skipping towards him in pure astonishment in a heartbeat. “Hey buddy!”  

His head lowered down towards you in bird-like movements. In this angle, it looked like he was giving you a razor sharp-toothed big grin. 

“He brought us here,” your mother said. The hand you were going to pet the ikran with stopped midway at her dejected tone. “You have passed Iknimaya, I take it. On your own.”

You didn’t know what to say, feeling immense guilt at having made her this disappointed over it. If this was any normal situation, any normal fight at all, you would have shot back with, ‘Well father told me to do it.’

But you were tired. 

Your pain threshold was being threatened, and you needed to get to your grandmother before any of your parents saw the situation you were in and this escalated into the worst fight you were going to get into in your entire life. 

Father’s only response was a dead cold, “C’mon, we gotta get outta here.”

He didn’t talk to you after that. Not one word. 

Squatting on an ikran’s back on a flight with an abdominal gunshot wound you were trying to hide was not an option unless you wanted to pass out midair and was looking for a free dive, so you were all but hugging the poor thing’s neck like a monkey, trusting him to follow your parents while you concentrated on mentally fighting to level out the pain. 

Nonsensical as it was to believe the gun stuck between your ikran’s neck and your stomach was acting as a tampon to lessen the bleeding, you were concerned with how dumb it must have looked to father and mom, how incompetent they must think of you that their daughter didn’t even know how to ride right. 

Got an ikran for nothing. 

Would they be less proud of you seeing how funny it appeared, nevermind that it was to contain your pain all the while not trying to faint?

But no words were exchanged about it. 

Father clamping up right after he’d made sure you weren’t hurt (yikes) had resulted in this awkward trip succumbing in total silence. They had sandwiched you between them, only necessary space for the ikrans to beat their wings freely left, so close that you could discern the scariest look on father yet, deepening the lines of age in his face while simultaneously expressing his barely contained desire to kill someone. 

A ticking time bomb. 

Forget speaking at all, but not only did he never address you until now, he didn’t even look in your direction for once. You knew because staring at him for five minutes straight for him to just acknowledge your existence had proven to be unfruitful. 

And the tears involuntarily streamed down your cheeks with how utterly worthless and alone that made you feel, trapped in this agony you couldn’t help but hide because he’d think you didn’t deserve to complain after bringing it upon yourself. You would rather bite your tongue and bear the pain than stay dreading his reaction. 

Yeah, no, he couldn’t know. 

Mom was looking over at you every one minute to make sure you were okay after her ears picked up on your sniffles, arrows of worry shot from her side sinking down your skin every single time, and you hated to make her this way. 

Your ikran kept comforting you through tsaheylu until you landed.

Father had promptly jumped down, agile and making haste away somewhere, passing you by and giving the cold shoulder. You all but slid off your own ikran, managing to make the gun stay where it should be, as you couldn’t help but weakly call out to him for one drop of consolation. “Father…”

He didn’t stop for you, quickening his steps, but his ears twitched, the tail beating the air ferociously halting and lowering before it returned to the previous motions, and those were the only indications that he’d heard it Lima Charlie.

The man just didn’t want to talk to you.    

And you had to make yourself believe it wasn’t the emotional devastation that had you falling down, but the wound sucking out all your energy now that you had gotten to safety. 

“Ma’ite?” Mom rushed to you. “Ma’ite, what’s wrong? What is it?”

“I’m okay, mom, it’s okay.” You were sitting on the floor, cross-legged. Thank goodness you still had the unbreakable willpower (and not the fear of Eywa put into you by father) to hold your shit together. “I’m okay. Just tired. My knees buckled. Weak, you know?” You swallowed, smiling. “I’m just… Just resting.”

Her gaze full of concern studied you, zeroing in on the gun you clung on for dear life against your stomach. Her hands lovingly brushed your hair, gripped your shoulders and elbows even though you were disgustingly clammy all over. It was grounding, anchoring within the ocean of pain washing over you in waves. 

“Oh, why are you sweating so much? You’re freezing.” You clutched the gun harder in a panic when she grasped it, most likely to put it away. It was the wrong reaction to have, but you weren’t exactly in the position to function healthily. 

Mom, as any other person would, got suspicious from it, her eyes flying up to your owlish ones — blanked out like a frightened animal. “You’re fine now,” she whispered, thankfully attributing it to how disturbed you must be, still not out of survival mode. “You are safe, my daughter. Mom is here.” She cupped your cheek, but every touch to your body hurt now, even when it was away from the gaping wound, still gushing blood, trickling down your hips and getting you scared that it’d be discovered once you stood up. “I’m here.” She searched your soul to know just why you were grimacing at her attempts of comforting. “I will take this now, you do not need it anymore.”

You snapped out of the gradually darkening gray haze mom’s lulling was laying you down gingerly into. “No, please don’t,” your breathing hitched. She was going to see. She couldn’t see. You had to avoid this somehow, as long as you could. Grandmother’s tent. You would make it, you had to.  “I’ll… I’ll just sit here for a while, okay? I need to just… take a small break, and then I’ll… Can you go back? I’ll follow later. Father is angry, I don’t—”

“Nonsense.” Incredulous and enraged suddenly about something you couldn’t put a finger on, and before you could stop her, she tried to haul you up with her by gripping your upper arms — colors exploded behind your eyelids, getting you you to lose consciousness for two seconds, your vision flooding back in a starry kaleidoscope. When mom’s voice reached your ears, it was in staccato exclaims your ears were ringing too much to discern. She was shaking you. 

You weren’t able to sit up straight anymore, leaning forward — mom had caught you, utterly confused and panicked at the same time. And then your head was lying on the crook of her elbow resting on her legs she’d tucked under herself. The moment you’d switched from sitting to straight up lying down was missing from your memories. 

A baby being cradled. Yes, this is exactly what it was like. Gentle arms surrounded you amidst the pulsating sea of agony. 

Your body was letting go, but your arms were vices around the gun, still holding that last line. Don’t let go. Don’t let go. They can’t know. Father will be so mad if he learns. “‘m okay… ‘st restin’…”

When your eyes cleared enough for the surroundings to be only a bit blurry, your mom was looking at the hand she’d just tried to take away the gun with, caked with your blood that had stained it, out of it and perplexed like she didn’t want to believe it. 

Her gut-wrenchingly stunned numbness sent the misery clawing its way inside into overdrive, pulling your consciousness down to the earth from the clouds it was ascending to. “Not mine,” you forced out, but it came out as begging. Everything was falling apart. The plan was so simple, why couldn’t you do anything right? “Not mine. Please. Mom, it’s okay.” 

“No…” Mumbling, she started sharply swaying back and forth, and with one brutally vigorous attack, she ripped the gun away from your arms, and hurled it away — then it was over. Your sob wasn’t due to the motion hurting you, it was all entirely for the broken wail of your mother at seeing the bloodied mess, tears spilling from her eyes as she reached down to press down at the pouring liquid. “No! No! Oh Great Mother! Why did you hide this! Oh, my daughter!” 

“No, mom, I’m fine, it’s nothing. Not my blood. Not my blood, okay?” You reached up weakly and wiped at her cheeks with trembling fingers, your heart got crushed worse than the pain could beat you down at her grief — lungs constricting. Where was all the air?  “I’ll get up. I’ll go to grandmother, don’t cry. Just resting.”

Frantically looking around, she yelled, “Jake!—” but her voice didn’t quite come out, breathy as if she’d been punched in the ribcage seconds prior.

A heartbeat’s worth of nothingness, after which you were full-on freaking out. Only one thought: Father will be angry. 

“No!” You shrieked, and blood swelled in one strong pump against mom’s fingers. She looked down at you in anguish, pupils blown wide, arm tightening around you as if you were a flailing bird. “Don’t tell him! Don’t tell father! He’ll really kill me for this—”

“No, no no no,” she shook her head, frenzied, tone cracked from beginning to end. “Do not say that. Don’t you ever say that—”

But you were struggling in her arms, wanting nothing but to crawl away into a hole, no reason registering whatsoever, only instinct. “He’ll be so angry,” you begged, pleading, pink spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth. The sound of gurgling accompanying the words you forced your whole body to form. “You can’t tell him — you can’t! He already hates me!”

The more you thrashed around and kicked your legs, the more you bled.

“Please, Great Mother!” The more mom lost her mind, hissing and howling hysterically, crazed, hugging you tighter and rocking. “Jake! Jake! Ma’Jake!” She put her temple against yours. “Not my daughter, please, Eywa…”

Why was she being like this? It wasn’t that serious! You were okay!

Delirium claimed you hot as she kept calling his name and her unbreakable hold on you kept you in a cage of a mother’s despair. In your feverish mind, a threat to your life was coming. Weakness spread like wildfire around your body and chipped away at the pain, slowly picking it apart to replace it with drowsiness. “Don’t call ‘im,” you continued to repeat, over and over again. “I’m just taking a break. Don’t call him over. He’s gonna be angry. He’ll hate me. He hates me. Please, mom.”

The sentences slurred together, shortened, wilted away pitifully, your voice died down, tongue deteriorating into only echoing, “He hates me.” A withered away, old flute. 

Your ikran was bellowing in the distance and you looked. The torches on cave walls were illuminating him and finally revealing to you his beautiful color scheme.    

And then your father was here, falling to his knees right beside you, his glistening wide eyes flying everywhere around your body — tracing all the blood, hands hovering above you as if he didn’t know where to start piecing a shattered vase back together.   

It was over.

Fully expecting the chastising you were about to receive to shake the floating mountains so bad the enemy would be able to spot you, you began to apologize — pride be damned, this battle be lost, you’d failed anyway. “Please don’t be mad,” you shuddered, meek and unsteady, tunnel vision flickering at the edges only perceiving him. “It’s my fault—I’m sorry—please don’t be angry—”

“Stop talking,” he ordered, rough and harsh, eyebrows knitted tightly, and out of breath — probably because of how hard he was trying to hold the anger back. You knew. That had to be it. “Don’t speak.”

Ah of course. This was only natural when he had refused to utter a single word at you the whole way, denying you the temporary comfort of a simple glance. 

Even the hand he pressed down so ruthlessly firm on your stomach it might as well be a boulder pinning you down was meant to be punishment, the whines your unbreathing lungs couldn’t stop turned into yowls — you hadn’t even noticed your hands were wrapped around father’s wrist in an effort to push him away, scratching him, but he only added his other hand on top of the other in return.

“Hang on, sweetheart, I got you, please hang on a little longer,” he pleaded, but you were already too far gone, Eywa was cruel to have plugged your ears to the endearment you’d been dying to hear from him for so long, making the last things you were aware father said to you the fact that he didn’t even want to hear you talking. 

And you fulfilled his wish. 

taglist: @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis@alohastitch0626 @jackiehollanderr @lucciera @qvrcll @iloveavatar @velvtcherie @ssc7514 @goldenmoonbeam @neteyamforlife @itsluludoll @jakesullys-bitch @blubrryy @sully-stick-together @arminsgfloll @alice121804 @noname2246 @justthingzsblog @eywamygoddess @m-1234 @ellabellabus07 @hellok1ttycake @dakotali @bluefire12348 @abbersreads @yellooaaa @aimsro @octavias-next-meat-bite @nikqdn @nao-cchi @spicycloudsalad @yeosxxx @heybiatchz @winxschester @elegantkidfansoul @eichenhouseproperty @kakimakiloh @dueiosy @liyahsocorro @dimplesxx @tigresslily @n8ivatar @strnqer @lillybbyy @jakesullyssluttt @r3dc4ndy @myheartfollower @gcldtom @bunnyrose01 @aceofheartzzz @ghoulbli @slasherfcker505 @ducks118 @megsthings @graykageyama @gwolf92

[sageispunk]

are you ever gonna post the method man fics 😩

what's it gonna be? (18+)

pairing: Silas P. Silas x black!reader

↳ When two friends finally get a night alone...

wordcount: 2.5k+

warnings: this is all smut fr, fwb to lovers, daddy kink!!!, P in V sex, reader is referred to as "girl" "ma" "mama" "boo", squirting, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, dom! reader for a sec, light choking, hint at/mention of weed use, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), teasing, nipple play...lmk if i missed any!!

A/N: ask and you shall receive!! (sorry for the wait though, i've had this sitting unfinished for a min cause i didn't know if anyone actually wanted it LMAO) i hope u like it anon and anyone else, lmk how u feel in the comments!! pls like + reblog as well MWAH 🫶🏾

“Damn girl…” 

Silas groaned below you, with his big hands gripping your hips as you moved up and down his length. The two of you locked desperate eyes, communicating nothing but everything at the same time.

You needed this as much as he did, especially once that familiar green haze behind your eyes set in. You were on your feet, using the strength in your legs and knees to increase your pace on him. With each bounce you could feel him deep inside your belly, touching parts of you that you didn’t even know existed. 

You also couldn't figure out how his tall self managed to squeeze into your twin XL dorm bed, but you weren’t in any position to question it either. The room was dark, only illuminated by the dim screen of your television on the dresser, in addition to the red LED lights on the wall above you. Whichever tv show began when your movie went off went unnoticed, their conversations drowned out by the breathy pants escaping your lips. 

The lewd sounds filling up the room had you both in heaven. Beautiful brown bodies under that rouge coloring– moaning, grunting, smacking, and squishing. Like one of those early 2000s classic Ebony films–just nasty. You could only hope no one could hear from outside your door. 

You moved your hips up and down, taking him all the way down to the base each time, biting your lip with a debauched look on your face. You watched as Silas moaned, loud and needy and uncaring, his eyes rolling back into his head. Your confidence shot up through the roof, leading you to take a little more control. You held his jaw with your dominant hand, bringing your lips up to his earlobe and letting your mouth run off whatever popped into your head, not leaving a second to second guess yourself. 

“Does it feel good when I do it like that?”

With your soft, teasing voice in his ears, you squeezed your inner walls, slowing yourself a bit and ignoring that growing burn in your thighs. “You betta stop it, girl..” His voice came out grunted, rough. His fingers dug into your hips as he struggled to hold onto his nut, a deep moan vibrating through his chest. 

“What about when I do it like that? Hmm?”

You felt him nodding against your skin before his hips stuttered, kissing your spot perfectly for only  a split second. Your body jerked up, momentarily frozen around him as your vision went white. “Silas, FUCK, I’m–!!!”

“Yeahhh, let it out baby..” He murmured, a goofy, cocky grin spreading across his face. Even then, you could still tell that he was struggling to hold on, with your pussy pulsing,  nearly suffocating him like a goddamn boa constrictor. 

Silas kept his eyes on you, his focus wandering up and down, and back and forth, his mind too overwhelmed with pleasure to fixate on only one part of you. He loved your thighs–every time you’d wear this particular pair of biker shorts that defined each of your curves, he would have to mentally go elsewhere just to keep from bursting out his jeans.

Your breasts also held a special place in his heart, especially in those times where he’d seek you out for comfort, resting against the soft, cushiony headrest that your chest provided. Similarly, the softness of your tummy was something he could never turn down, he’d be touching on it every time you showed a little extra skin in a crop top or a backless dress.

As you slowed down to a stop on top of him, he let his hands wander. His left hand traveled up your side, slowly, taking in your beautiful map of scars and stretch marks on the way. Once his thick fingers reached your breasts, they traced around your mocha areolas before latching onto your hardened nipples. Silas rubbed and pinched lightly, alternating between teasing each as he watched the euphoric haze grow across your face. 

“Silas…” You still were sensitive from your sudden orgasm, slightly trembling from the aftershocks as he touched you. Nevertheless, that warmth and excitement began to flood your core once again, that hunger taking over your every thought. His hard dick throbbing eight inches deep inside your core didn't help either. But you needed more, you craved to see him, feel him come undone inside of you. 

You gasped as his right hand made its way to your throat, keeping your gaze steadily on his. The grip of his fingers on your skin had you feeling weak, and under his spell. And his voice, all deep and rough and dripping with desire.

“I gotchu mama, just tell me what you need..” Your eyes scanned over his face, taking in the glaze of sweat on his forehead, above his furrowed eyebrows, as well as the slight pout in his plump bottom lip. You wanted to bite it so bad. “Tell daddy what you need, baby, I gotta hear you.”

Silas repeating the nickname you accidentally gave him the first time you’d hooked up made your tummy flutter. You couldn’t believe it yourself when the word flew out your mouth, while you blurredly watched him take you from behind, standing upright in front of the mirror in some frat party bathroom. From then he never let you forget it. He always made sure to remind you of his special status, without fail making you cum harder than anyone else ever had, every single time. 

“Cum in me, Si...please.” 

The plea fell from your lips as you lazily swirled your hips in his lap, enjoying the way his curved length rubbed deliciously against all your inner spots. Like you were made to fit one another. Your hands held onto his right arm as he continued to choke you, only slightly tightening his grip around your throat. The growing lack of air made you tense around his dick, whining and moaning out as he spoke. “You know if I cum in this pussy, that means it's mine, right?” 

Hearing those words with that thick New York accent while he was so deep in your belly nearly made you cum again. Leaning in, you nodded your response with your gaze fixed directly on his brown eyes.

A look of understanding flashed across Silas’ face for a second, before he released your throat, hand settling on the nape of your neck to bring you in closer. Your plush lips met his own as he swallowed down your moans, exploring your mouth with his hungry tongue.

You opened up, letting him take control of the nastiest kissing you’ve ever participated in–tongues dancing, spit swapping, lip sucking until both of your mouths were glistening. Sinful. 

Silas’ free hand squeezed your hip, grounding you on top of him as he began to slowly grind up into you. Your mouths separated but your faces remained close as he held the back of your neck. Silas watched your face contort while he deepened his stroke inside you, letting you feel every single inch in your stomach.

The only thing you could focus on was his mouth, and how much you wanted that bottom lip back in your mouth. Fuzziness took over your brain, your eyes tearing up from the agonizingly slow but deep pace he was set on. 

The moment was intimate, much more than it had been previously, closer and slower than all those other times Silas had you broken you down. For the past few weeks, you resorted to quickies on the bathroom counter if you were at a party, in either of your cars parked somewhere dark, you’d even let him finger you under the table in the library while you were supposed to be “studying”. And now, with your roommate gone for the weekend, you were finally able to have a nice, passionate moment in a bed. 

In a way, the rushed, adrenaline-filled aspect of all your previous entanglements in those less intimate settings kept you from taking a deeper look at your relationship with Silas. You were friends, albeit much, much closer than “normal” friends should be. You met in a shared biology lecture, after Silas showed up late–and high as hell–and the only seat left open was to your right. You eventually agreed to become study partners, and you didn’t mind when some of those late night study sessions in Silas’ dorm turned into heated smoke sessions, which further turned into nasty intoxicated confessions from you both. 

Silas propped his feet up, lifting his hips before flipping you both over. He placed his hands on the backs of your knees, pushing back and kneeling down to lick a slow, wide stripe up your glossy cunt. You cried out from the new stimulation, squirming in his grasp.

“You taste so mothafuckin’ good, girl..” He moaned against your pussy in appreciation, slurping up your juices and rhythmically sucking on your clit with those pretty ass lips of his. You were entranced, eyes stuck on the scene in front of you, wondering what good you had done in this world to deserve all the bliss flowing through your system.

You watched as he pulled back from your pussy, chin glistening in your essence. He spread your sticky lips apart with two big fingers, hungrily watching you clench and pulse around nothing. The ravenous look in his eyes as he stared at your pussy turned you on like no other. They met yours again, and he licked and bit on his lip, letting you know that he was craving more, just as you were.

Your eyes and mouth fell wide open when Silas let a string of warm spit fall directly onto your clit, both the sensation and the view filling you with an immense amount of pleasure. You could feel the electricity flowing from your pussy to your toes, and back up through your spine, a complete shock to your system.

He let your legs fall to the side, big, warm hands on your face as he leaned in, kissing you once more. The sounds of you both groaning into each other's mouths as you tasted yourself on his lips echoed throughout the room. Your hips grinded up against his, needing to feel his length on and in you again. He pulled away first, one of his hands coming down to pin your knee out to the side, setting you still in place. “You want me to cum in this pussy?” 

You nodded, almost too eagerly. There was nothing else on your mind but the vision of him leaking out of you, vanilla cream dripping down your lips, the perfect match for your coffee complexion.

“Use ya words, boo.” 

You reached up, manicured hands pulling his face to just a couple inches from your own. He watched, expectantly, eyes moving from your eyes to your lips and back up again. You could feel him now, twitching and leaking against your inner thigh, so close to where you needed him most. “Cum in your pussy, Daddy.” 

With a curse under his breath, he sheathed himself inside of you in a quick movement, pausing once he filled you to the base. His eyebrows were furrowed as he stared into your eyes, mouth hung open like he’d never felt the warm, tight hug of your cunt around him before. His breath faltered, warm breath against your lips and vulnerability written across his face.

Your own breath was caught in your chest when he slid back, and then forced out when he pushed inside, gliding through your slick walls with ease. A wail escaped your lips as he punished your pussy, or at least that’s what it felt like he was doing. Reminding you of who he was. And reminding you of who you were. 

Your eyes clamped shut, toes curling and spine arching up off the bed more and more each time he touched your precious g-spot. Another orgasm began to build within your core, your body tightening up underneath him as you fiercely dug your teeth into your bottom lip.

Curses flew from your lips, broken and jumbled together, barely making any sense. You released his face, blindly allowing your hands to find his shoulders for support. Silas leaned down, moaning and groaning in your ear, filling you up with his dick before taking it all away, over and over and over again. 

“Daddyyy…fuck!!!” 

“Tell me it’s mine, baby, c’mon ma, I’m so fuckin’ close…” 

Your bodies were sticky with sweat and all your juices, creating the nastiest smacking sound each time he plunged inside. “It’s yours, I swear to god, it’s all yours baby, ohmyfuckinggoddd…”  You rambled off, barely even able to hear your own words. Your brain was much more focused on the ecstacy spreading through your entire body, making you tingle from your head to your toes. “I’m gonna cum, daddy, please don’t stop!!” 

“Give it to me, baby, c’mon, gimme that shit!” He kept the pace strong, not letting up until you fell apart on his dick one final time, this time with your juices spraying and splashing between your bodies. Your tightness mixed with the sudden wetness of your squirt sent him over the edge, causing him to yell out as he finally released deep inside you. 

“Fuuuck!!” His hips twitched and stuttered as he emptied himself out, not daring to pull out while you were still grasping onto him from underneath.

You whimpered, your body trembling, shaking like a leaf as your nails dug into his shoulders, deep enough to leave a few red crescent-shaped marks. The feeling of his nut filling you gave you the warmest feeling in your tummy, satisfaction spreading through your mind, body, and soul.

The two of you rested for a moment, the sounds of your heavy breathing became your only focus. The audience laughter from the television was more noticeable now, but neither of you could care less. Silas let more of his weight fall on you, cradling you from above while you calmed down your breathing. You turned your face, tucking yourself into his neck and leaving a few soft kisses on the damp skin in appreciation. 

Silas softly chuckled when you teased him with your tongue against his collarbone, knowing you both were too tuckered out for another round just yet. He pulled out of you, slowly, hissing at the overstimulation on his sensitive length. Sitting back on his knees in between your legs, he watched in admiration as seed spilled from your swollen lips, giving him a perfect view of the most beautiful painting he’s ever laid his eyes on–better than anything he’s seen in the MET. 

Observing his mark on you–in you–was gratifying, a surge of endearment and devotion growing within his own core. “C’mere..” 

You obeyed, lazily allowing him to reposition you on top of his chest, your faces just centimeters apart. 

“Tell me somethin’ real quick...you meant it?” 

That vulnerable look was back, although he did try to hide it by avoiding eye contact, instead focusing on your slightly puffy lips, swollen from all the kissing and biting and sucking. You knew what he was talking about, and you knew it was more than just dirty sex talk–something had been growing between the two of you and it was undeniable at this point. 

“Every word.”

i do not give permission for anyone to copy, translate, or repost any of my works. 18+ ONLY -- i am not responsible for the content you consume.

[aluciahaz]

Sorry if this isn’t the askbox or not right I never done this before..

If requests are still open and whenever you feel like it of course.

I would like a dom male Reader x bottom Alastor rough smut, where the reader is in an important meeting as he is an overlord or prince of hell which ever you prefer.

And Alastor have been more chaotic lately which is messing something up for the reader and now he have to correct Alastor’s behavior.

Anyway hope you’re doing well today and take care of yourself and of course you can ignore this. Thank you.

RAHH!! im very late, sorry! i havent been feeling like writing in awhile, especially hazbin unfortunately 😭 so i decided to just post my wip i had for this request! i dont think ill ever finish it, so i wanted to post it rather than let it rot lmao, hope you enjoy although its unfinished ❤️

don’t forget your place

alastor x male!reader

includes: crying, gags, bondage

you don’t know what’s gotten into alastor recently.

the two of you sit in a meeting, right beside each other of course, and you watch as other overlords trickle into the modern room.

you didn’t even need to look at them, you could tell which people had arrived just by the sounds of their footsteps alone. each overlord was unique, it wasn’t hard to differentiate them. zestial had this almost spider-like sound when he walks, carmilla’s shoes pierced through the quiet like blades, and alastor—

“what are you thinking about, darling?” he asks, smiling at you with an inquisitive look.

you glance over at your troublesome lover, pursing your lips. “about how you’ve been harming my reputation with some of the statements you say in your radio show,” you tell him honestly, the sound of chairs moving against the pristine floors covering your conversation well enough to not require you to whisper.

“and how you keep killing some of my biggest customers. they’re too afraid to even call anymore.”

“oh, but you could always get more—”

“it’s not about that,” you hiss, your hand clenching alastor’s tightly. his smile freezes, but he’s still smug, looking at you under his hooded eyes.

“it’s about you walking over my image, al. stay in your lane,” you scold him, letting go of his hand as you feel him pull away.

all he does is shrug, clearly unbothered as he leans back in his chair. “i drive wherever gets me to my destination the fastest, my dear. and, it just seems you’re the shortcut.”

your grip on the bottom of the seat in frustration, glaring at alastor in both annoyance and sheer astonishment at his audacity to make such a euphemism. he thinks that he could just tear down your reputation to build up his own? what an outrageous idea!

perhaps you’ve been too kind to him. he thinks you’re some sort of pushover.

you’re already thinking of ways to fix that mistake. so much so, that the meeting seems to pass by like a fly and the fruit of your ideas are right in your hands in just a few seconds, tasting sweeter than honey.

“mmh—hn!” weak static fluctuated between an incessant buzzing to complete silence as you grabbed his ears roughly, tugging them back to reveal his dainty neck, a perfect place for you to latch your lips on, and soon you hear a jump in his voice as your teeth pierces his skin.

there was usually more leniency when it came to intimacy with al. you want him to enjoy it after all, so you let him bark a few insults here and there, mock you a little. whatever makes him comfortable, either way, his mouth usually ends up running out of words to play at the end of his little show of control once he gets overwhelmed, unable to read his script anymore as you drive his brain into an incoherent repeat of ‘please’.

but tonight, you watch him writhe and sob as his mouth is gagged and his body is completely tied to the bed, spread out and on full display as you ram into him, his head tossing and turning into the pillow behind him.

your hands ground him to reality, the sharp pain of your nails and unrelenting grip forcing him to stay somewhat conscious as you use him, showing how much power you have over alastor.

it was incredible to see his silver tongue unable to lacerate the air with insults, the gag upon him doing a great job at keeping him unable to throw jabs at you like you were some target at a range.

instead, all he could do was wail, drool spilling down his chin and making a mess of his dress shirt that you made sure to keep on him just to piss him off. you know how much he likes to keep his clothes in check. it’s part of his well-crafted image, after all.

“are you learning your place now, bambi?” you chuckle, your words cold on his skin, seeping into his body as he shivers at the frost, unable to protect himself from your punishment.

“answer me,” one of your hands leaves his waist, grabbing his chin and yanking him up towards you. a small, feeble whimper leaves his throat as you do so, and his eyes seem to dilate. dilate, out of all things.

“slut,” you spit, chuckling as you see his ears flop down. such a terrifying overlord, reduced to a small little deer in your hands. it was cute, how he looked at you.

it was even cuter when he shakes, so sensitive that he feels the need to twist and turn as you make him cum for the second time, his body jolting as your hand runs over his cock, still hard underneath your palm.

usually, you’d expect a sharp glare or some sort of defiance to your name-calling, but all you see is his eyes rolling back, his head tilting up as you release his chin.

there are tears that seem to adorn his cheeks like shooting stars in the sky, and babbling that‘s reminiscent of a muffled radio in another room. it was nice, seeing alastor’s breaking like this. watching him fall beneath the weight of his actions, unable to hold them up on his shoulders as they crush him in one fell swoop.

all because of you.

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist @luciferspetduck

[bbybaku]

hii! could we get some dabi/touya college boyfriend nsfw and sfw headcanons? thank uu

yall are gonna have to hear me the fuck out on this one okay

the 18+ part is below the cut 🫡

also sorry this took me like 9 months to write lmao

sfw

i think you and touya would be in the same big friend group that likes to drink and party together

okay so touya started off in the dorms of your big ass university as an engineering major and very quickly realized he didn't really fw it

butttttt he did fw the night scene

and his rich father paying him to be there

so touya barely passes freshman year

transfers to the community college down the road

moves into a party house w his boyz

i feel like he would either be like a blue-collar construction worker or a bar back until he's 21 when he can be a bartender

he's kind of a dick but he's also friends w everyone?

he likes fat girls

especially bipoc thic girls

like homeboy likes tits and ass and is not picky

i feel like he's a bit of a dick in an endearing way

like he's a college aged man and he's a lil selfish but you know he doesn't mean it

prob not the best bf all the time

he means well

hes a retired player who met you and is now obsessed with you and only you

yall are also lowkey on and off

but you’re working on it!!

that being said I'm sure he would be nice to you and care about you but he def has issues that he is not addressing

back to our party boy

he would order pizza for the after-party

always hosts the pregame

and the party lol

goes to the clubs !!

occasionally gets drunk and gets in fights (its hot af)

he would be generous w the ~party favors~ if you know what i mean

*wipes nose*

*cough cough*

has probably tried every drug under the sun at least once

so maybe not the best memory lol

like not a bad guy

but probably not the best

always has cigarettes

probably a Marlboro guy

or American spirits

always wearing all-black or all-dark colors

always smells really good

his room is actually really nice like he has a big bed and mood lights and some crystals

goes to the gym often but has a sleeper build

so looks scrawny but has some muscle when he takes his shirt off

prob has a stupid tattoo somewhere

like a cool one on his lower stomach

but also has a tramp stamp of a heart with wings

always has like an ocean sented canlde burning in his bedroom

has the most beautiful fluffy hair that he puts such little effort into

almost always has a 5 o'clock shadow

like does not shave his face consistently enough but he is hot so its okay

he likes to sit with his head between your legs

yall watch movies together often

like actually watch movies

he has a silver nose ring

drives like a red mustang

is prob lowkey a car guy

is not on any social media but is always watching weird youtube videos and texting his siblings

i feel like it’s a fantasy of his to get into a fight for you

like he dreams of some guy trying shit with you only for him to step in at the perfect time and beat the shit out of him

he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you

but he would beat anyone who hurts you

nsfw

average size but a bit girthy

homeboy can fuck

like is experienced

he’s a retired whore

you are the reason he retired lol

can find the clit on anyone

you don't go home until you come at least once

quickies

all the time

anywhere you can think of

bathroom at parties

unfinished basements

empty classroom

storage closet

prob has a hand signal to you for if yall are out drinking in your group and he wants to fuck

this man oozes sex appeal

like you're not in the mood and then he's wearing all black and smells like that and suddenly you're ferral

real good at dirty talk

"behave"

"that's what I like to hear"

"have you always been this much of a slut?"

just to name a few

talks like that in and out of the bedroom

does not sext but will not hesitate to invite you over when he's horny

fucking in his room during a party

and then returning to the party

will buy you food after

fucks you to hip-hop

like good music

Red LED lights in his room

has a big ass mirror

doggy or pro bono in front of said mirror

*chefs kiss*

does not want kids so he always has a ton of condoms

he doesn't like hickies but loves when you scratch up his back

car sex

he likes to choke you

especially during makeouts

like will choke you more during a makeout than he will during sex

prob lowkey has a porn addiction so can get a little carried away sometimes

but will instantly stop if you say something or if he picks up on you like liking the vibe

he's loud as fuck during sex

like his roommates will pound on the walls

doesn't eat you out super often,, but when he does?

good god

amazing

prob will ask you to do some weird shit every now and then

like clown makeup

or to top him and call him weird names

you're normally down for it

its fun because he gets so into it

is pretty straightforward about what he wants

which is nice since you never have to guess

m.list

[cheollipop]

ꕥ— 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙠𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙮

navi | taglist

pairing: kitty!choi san x owner!reader x puppy!jung wooyoung

w.c.: 4.4k

tags: smut, fluff, hybrid au, fem reader, mxm heavy (check tags)

squeezed between your body and wooyoung's, kisses littered over his heated skin and whimpers dragged out from between his lips, you guided san through his first heat.

warnings: threesome (m/f/m), thigh humping, unprotected sex (👎), vaginal sex, mxm, anal fingering, some rimming, anal sex, slick for lube lmao, bottom!san, top!wooyoung, sub!san, service dom!reader, who knows what wooyoung is, man just wants to fuck, knotting, multiple orgasms (m&f), so much cum, like a crazy amount, very unrealistic amount of cum, handjob, male squirting, breeding kink, lots of praise, lots of overstimulation, lots of creampies, some cockwarming, some spit, san is very whiny, nicknames (mommy; woo, youngie; sannie, kitty, love, darling), I think that's all?

A/N: this is thank you gift to one of the sweetest people I've had the honour of meeting!! @roodles17 /@littleocean-rose thank you so much for everything, and I really hope I did your idea justice!! happy reading~~

nsfw and warnings under the cut—minors dni 🔞

Fingers pressing into the tattered keycaps, you basked under the sliver of sunlight filtering through the open blinds above your desk, the shining orb only now departing from its locus, a couple more hours to go before the sky changed hues and the clouds resembled cotton candy. You sighed as you turned your attention back to your screen, urging your hands to move while your unfinished report stared back at you.

You don’t hear the muted shuffling behind you, bare feet padding along the floorboards until they reached your side, a subtle gush of air blowing over your skin as the cat hybrid crouched beside you, nuzzling his cheek into your lap. You smiled at the gesture, moving one hand off your keyboard to run it through his blonde locks, taking in his docile form as he sat on the floor by your desk chair. Your mind wandered back to his first few weeks with you: he would only eat when he was alone, startle at any sound, hiss and bite whenever you tried getting near him. But now, that same hybrid sought out affection and even began initiating it, growing whinier every second your attention was not on him, his lips pouting egregiously until you welcomed him into your lap.

He tilted his chin upwards, setting it on your thigh to look up at you expectantly, shifting onto his knees as his eyes grew wider. You huffed out a laugh at his expression, and you knew the warmth in your chest had nothing to do with the golden rays of spring shining through your window. But your work deadline ticked in your head, your eyes flitting back towards your laptop as its fan whirred in the background, sighing in defeat.

“I really need to get this done, Sannie,” the disappointment on his face pulled at your heartstrings. “I’m sorry, love. Give me an hour or two and I’ll be all yours, okay?”

The pout on his lips persisted, but a hesitant nod shook his head. You smiled. He was your good boy.

San remained by your side for next hour, cheek smushed against your pajama bottoms and his tail brushing over your feet every time it swayed. It distracted you at first, the subtle purr vibrating over your thigh, but soon your fingers began moving steadily over the keys, typing paragraph after paragraph, San’s restless fidgeting going unnoticed as you immersed yourself into your report.

He stared up at your profile, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and your lips pursed while you worked, a shot of pain surging through his tight abdomen. You’d heard San make a lot of noises—needy meows, hearty giggles, feisty hisses—but the pained mewl slipping through his lips wasn’t one of them, instantly turning your head towards him. Teary eyes met yours, his chin propped up on your thigh and his face contorting into that of fiery need, fingers grasping at your calves in an attempt to ground himself. You noted the trail of slick left on the floorboards under him, shimmering under the sunlight as he rutted over the solid wood.

Drawing your attention back to his eyes, you held his face in your palms, “Sannie, can you tell me what hurts, love?”

“I-I can’t wait anymore, ‘hurts,” tears welled up in his eyes, and before you could repeat your question, San’s hand finds its way between his legs, palming over the tent in his pink sleep shorts with built-up desperation. “Please, ‘want you now.”

You glanced at your screen, the nearing deadline ticking in your head as you weighed your options. Small hands tugged at your flowy bottoms, the sound of reckless shuffling focusing your attention on San as he dragged his hips along the floor, soft whimper slipping through his parted lips. Your fingers twitched over his skin, slipping down to rest on his biceps.

“How about you grind against mommy while she gets the rest of her work done, hm?”

San’s eyes lit up, and he hurriedly scrambled off the floor to straddle one of your thighs, panting heavily as you moved his waistband down—sucking in a deep breath at the lack of underwear—and snapping it under his balls. The thin material was soaked through, precum and slick darkening the cotton as San’s arousal flooded out of his delicate body. You’d never seen the cat hybrid act this way, eying over his reddening skin while he grinded his leaking cock over your upper thigh, streaks of precum staining the fabric.

“Good?” You pushed back the blonde strands sticking to his damp forehead.

“’F-feels weird, mommy, I- ah!”

“Weird how, love?” You brushed a thumb over his shut eyelid, a silent request for him to look at you, and he did, peaking at you through the thick veil of arousal clouding his senses. “Tell mommy how you’re feeling.”

“I-I don’t know...”

The pout on his lips drew a smile on yours, “Do you not feel good?”

“No! ‘Feels so good…. I-I’m so close,” his hips slowed, San's eyebrows furrowing at the languid pace despite it being his own doing.

“Does kitty want to cum?” You smiled, tucking a loose strand behind his ear.

He bit back a moan, canines digging into his bottom lip as he tortured himself with slow drags over your clothed skin. “But, ngh- I don’t wanna get your clothes dirty.”

Fondness flooded your chest, your heart about to burst at the innocence held within his words, contrasting the flushed state of his skin and the precum seeping into your patterned pants. “Oh Sannie, you’re such a good boy, aren’t you?” Your lips stretched further at the subtle perk-up of his ears at the nickname, “don’t worry about that, darling, we can wash them later.”

Your hands found their place on his behind, guiding his movements over your thigh until airy moans poured out of him. Tucking his face into the crook of your neck, he breathed in your scent, blowing hot air out of his lungs while he frantically rolled his hips back into your palms, and forwards over the soft cotton. Mumbled pleas and heavy pants muffled by your skin, the stutter of his hips as you moved them over you, San drowned himself in the overwhelming pleasure, his cock pulsing while ropes of white painted over the pattern on your pants.

A rough tongue ran over your pulse point, suckling on the delicate skin as he continued to grind over you, still hard and not showing any signs of fatigue. Unusual, you thought, as the hybrid was usually satisfied after one round, feeding off the attention you’d given him until another wave of need overtook him. Frenetic hips continued to move over your thigh, aided by the translucent liquid coating your pants, his thrusts only calming down once a third body entered the room, resonant footsteps turning hushed as bare feet pressed into the fluffy rug in your study. A curious—and slightly erratic—nose dug into the side of San’s freckled neck, Wooyoung’s hanging ears along with a few strands of purple brushing against the side of your face, the poignant scent of lavender permeating the air around you. Sandwiched between the two bodies, you watched queryingly as his sniffing nose trailed upwards to nuzzle into the other hybrid’s hair—yet another unusual occurrence.

After a couple months of cautious steps and endless bickering, the two hybrids were basically inseparable. Their scent mingled into one, and one of their beds was almost always empty as they began to favour a shared sleeping arrangement. But Wooyoung was acting strange, as though he was experiencing a new side to San, inhaling a scent different to the one he’d grown used to.

“Smells so good,” he muttered into the blonde locks, arm circling the two bodies in the creaking chair to pull San closer with a hand on his lower back, pushing him further into your chest with the gesture.

“Youngie…” Wooyoung’s ears perked up at the gravelly tone, but his face remained buried into the side of San’s head. “Youngie, ‘want you, please,” his hips gave a few aggressive thrusts before another load of hot cum spurted out of his angry cockhead, a broken cry sending a wave of arousal down to your core, and—judging by the grunt leaving the puppy hybrid’s lips—Wooyoung’s as well.

You gave San a few seconds to wind down, sucking in a surprised gasp when the hybrid returned to his insistent grinding, a whispered “not enough” on his lips. With your hands on his shoulders, you pulled him off you until his flushed face returned to your field of vision, glossy lips parted and eyes lidded with lust while he moved his cock over a puddle of his own cum. Levelling Wooyoung with a warning look, the hybrid pulled back his meddling nose with a dejected whine, allowing you to examine the cat hybrid without his unneeded assistance. You placed a hand on his cheek, the other on his forehead, eyebrows raising at the abnormal warmth seeping into your palms as the blonde nuzzled into your touch, a soft purr vibrating in his chest. The high temperature, the urgent need for stimulation, the obscene amount of cum coating your thigh—you gathered the symptoms in your head, a final diagnosis flashing in red before your eyes. Of course.

Your fingers slid into his hair, thumb brushing over his cheekbone while you scratched at the hair behind his ears, the worry pulling your eyebrows together lessening at the way San melted under your touch. “Oh, love, you’re in heat?” It was as though your words had reminded him of his current situation, his movements growing frantic again, the hand you’d slid down to his hips proving useless in calming him down. “My poor baby,” you cooed, allowing him to move as he wished, “you won’t feel better until you get a knot in you.”

San’s head snapped upwards, looking for the puppy hybrid’s eyes and finding them staring right back at him, the veins in his hands protruding out of the delicate skin as he gripped the edge of the chair behind you to prevent himself from reaching out to San. Your good boy, following your unspoken instruction.

Small hands circled around your head to grab fistfuls of Wooyoung’s shirt, making you on eye-level with San’s chest as his eyes grew teary with overflowing need, “please, Youngie, please knot me.”

Peering down at you with a questioning gaze, hints of desperation glimmering in his hooded eyes, Wooyoung silently asked you an obvious question, his fingers twitching beside your head. You smiled, huffing out a small laugh as your chest brimmed with teeming adoration.

“What do you say, Youngie, should we help our poor kitty out?”

--

Small hands kneaded at the backs of your thighs, folding you in half and leaning over your body while he dug his blunt nails into the flesh, the relaxed pace at which he squeezed at your skin contrasting that of his hips, hammering into your soaked pussy without relent, as though he hadn’t dragged two orgasms out of you already. You slid a hand over the side of his neck, bringing his head down until the tell-tale roughness of his tongue grazed your collarbone.

San’s thrusts faltered, his hips now shallowly rolling into your cunt while mumbled gibberish mixed with whimpers poured onto your chest in hot exhales. He was more so rutting his hips back than forward, meeting Wooyoung’s long fingers as they stretched him open, a stream of slick dripping down San’s balls and mingling with your arousal and his cum, a thick load already stuffed deep within you. At the change in demeanour, Wooyoung prodded the pads of his fingers at the swollen gland again, eyes following the frantic sway of the fluffy white tail in front of him, and noting the subtle twitch of San’s toned thighs.

“Youngie, ‘s enough,” San pleaded, voice drowned out as he dug his face further into the crook of your neck, and Wooyoung decided he liked that reaction. So he repeated the motion, once, twice, until you felt his throbbing length pulsating within you. “Nghh! P-please I-”

He drew his hips away from the relentless digits, sheathing himself within your warm walls as Wooyoung milked him from the back, his muscles jerking with every brush against his prostate. He pulled his fingers out at the first protest from the cat hybrid, a feisty paw swinging backwards in complaint, instead leaning down lick a stripe over San’s winking hole, clenching uselessly as slicked oozed out of it. That same paw reached back to press against the back of Wooyoung’s head, pushing him further between his legs as the starved tongue lapped at his puckered rim.

To your surprise, San’s attention focused back onto you, his eyes lidded but still aware, not yet clouded with the thick haze of his heat. Rolling his hips experimentally, San’s eyebrows furrowed in discomfort momentarily before relaxing, languidly grinding his once-again hardening cock into your cunt, exhaling breathy moans that reached your face in negligible puffs, “am I making you feel good, mommy?”

You carded your fingers through his soft locks, the sound of Wooyoung suckling excitedly on San’s rim drowning into the background as gentle eyes awaited your affirmation. “You feel so good, Sannie, always so good got me, love,” the corners of your lips curved into an easy smile, your overwhelming infatuation towards the hybrid pouring into your expression. But then his face contorted again, as though every motion within you wounded him. “Sannie, does it hurt, darling? We can stop now if you’re tired-”

“No!” Pink painted his cheeks at the sudden raise in his tone, his next words uttered under his breath with embarrassment laced into the syllables, “p-please don’t stop, mommy feels so good.... ‘wanna cum again, please, can I?”

Holding his face between your palms, you drew him closer to smack a few open-mouthed kisses onto his heated forehead, thumbing over his cheekbones while you eyed his features for a few seconds, his soft whine reminding you that he’d asked a question, “of course you can, darling, you can cum as many times as you want.” San’s ears perked up, his tail standing straight for a moment before beginning to wave at a building pace, becoming uncontrollable after he’d picked up your next words, “do you wanna try coming on Youngie’s knot?”

San's hips stilled, partly at your words, but also due to the firm chest now stuck to his sweat-covered back, Wooyoung’s cock snug between his cheeks. Small fingers clutched your thighs again, digging into the skin as Wooyoung teased his cockhead over the perky hole, smearing precum around until it formed a homogenous mixture with San’s slick before finally breaching his entrance. The tinges of neglect you’d been feeling faded away with every inch Wooyoung pushed into the hybrid above you, your position under him granting you a front-row view to his changing expressions—his delicate features reforming as pleasure seeped through his nerves, his eyes fluttering as he tried to keep them open, drawing a perfect circle with his mouth and widening it into an oval once Wooyoung bottomed out. You resisted shutting your eyes, wanting to take in the hushed whimpers escaping the back of San’s throat without any external interferences, but couldn’t bring yourself to look away from the hybrid’s face.

Wooyoung’s patience had never been the greatest, always first to jump off the couch whenever he heard your footsteps approaching the front door; not backing down even after getting scolded for crowding you while you made dinner. So you weren’t particularly surprised when he allowed San only a few seconds to adjust, snapping his hips into the hybrid with urgency, pushing his body into yours with every forceful thrust. Veiny hands found San’s waist, gripping the narrow diameter while he drove his cock into his dripping hole, lowering his head to watch himself sink into the stretched rim, and puckered his lips to drop a wad of spit over it, adding to the mess San had already made.

The sweat coating San’s forehead smeared over your chest, his body curling in on itself as he simply took Wooyoung’s cock, giving up on his lousy attempts at thrusting into you. Wrapping your arms around San’s shoulders, you cradled the back of his head and pressed your lips to his hair, the sound of skin-on-skin blending in with the soft mewls vibrating against your chest while Wooyoung pounded into him.

“Kitty feels so good, so warm inside, ah-” his hands slid off San’s waist, one curving over the slope of his ass, spreading him open until the stretched hole peeked at him, squeezing deliciously around his cock, the other pressing onto his lower back.

San's back arched, his nipples rubbing over your torso with every forward jerk, “Youngie, please m-more- ‘want more- hnngh!”

The tone of his voice, the airy moans paired with the drool pooling over your skin, the minute brushes of his cockhead over your g-spot—you were beginning to feel impatient, walls clenching around his throbbing length. That was enough to drive him over the edge, your eyebrows shooting up when warmth spread through your lower belly, the hybrid’s body shuddering as another orgasm rushed through him, Wooyoung’s hips resolute as he guided him through his high.

Through the thick haze of lust, Wooyoung’s eyes locked on you, seemingly noticing your restless state as you warmed San’s cock. He leaned over the blonde’s body, planting a kiss over his shoulder blade, “is kitty being lazy?” the words seemed to fly over his head, his eyes barely open as he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm, so Wooyoung gave him a harsh thrust to drag his attention back to him, a startled cry leaving his lips, “Does Sannie like Youngie’s cock that much? Too dumb to do anything but take it?”

San’s head shot off your chest, craning his neck to look back at the puppy hybrid, “l-love Youngie’s cock, please, ‘want it so bad-”

Despite San’s pleads, Wooyoung remained still, one hand squeezing at the flesh of his ass and the other reaching forward to lock with yours, “uh uh, you gotta move properly, San-ah,” he rolled his hips once, moving San with him, his cock hard and throbbing inside you.

“It’s okay, Woo,” you tried, but Wooyoung shook his head.

“Mommy should feel good too,” he pulled his hand away, holding San’s hips and guiding his movements—forward to properly fuck into you, then back to sink his cock into his tight heat.

With your walls wrapped around him and his around Wooyoung’s, the leaking cockhead pressing into his prostate every time it split him open, San’s breathing quickened, chest flushed and heaving as a melody of moans fell off his tongue. Unsatisfied with the pace San was going at, Wooyoung returned to his frenzied rhythm, taking San’s hips with him as he hammered his cock into his tight ass. Soft fingers grasped at the sheets by your head, glimmering eyes—glazed over and glassy—staring back at you, his lips moving in unuttered words as he found his voice through the sounds of pleasure occupying it.

“A-am I doing good, mommy? Is Sannie making you f-feel good?”

The desperation in his voice caused the butterflies in your stomach to thrash around, your fingers gentle as they caressed the hair at his crown, your other hand rubbing soothing circles between his shoulders, gliding smoothly over the sweat beading over his skin. “My good boy, doing so well for me,” you cooed.

And he was. Shots of pleasure seared up your spine as his cock dragged over your pulsing walls, curving into your sweet spot to push you closer to the edge. You could hear the distinct purr reverberating in San’s chest, the gap between your bodies small enough to allow his perked-up nipples to faintly brush against yours with every onward sway.

You could hear Wooyoung’s growing frantic, leaning forward and growling into San’s neck as he fucked into his dripping ass, “mommy, please, hah- c-can I fill kitty up? ‘wanna fuck his breeding hole full of Youngie’s cum, can I please?”

Heat surged through your insides at his words, his lidded eyes peeking at you over San’s shoulder, and you could see his tail wagging violently in the background. You pushed a purple strand off his forehead, brushing your thumb over his eyebrow as you spoke, attempting to maintain a steady tone while San’s hips bucked into you, “you have t-to ask Sannie, baby, not me.”

Burying his nose into San’s neck, inhaling the sweet scent emitting off him between the words he muffled into his skin, “Sannie, can I? C-can I give you my knot? ‘Want you to have Youngie’s pups.”

A whimper escaped through San’s parted lips, not knowing whether to pump his cock into you or to fuck himself on Wooyoung’s, his rhythm all over the place as he pathetically whined and begged for release, “y-yeah- yes, please- ‘Wanna have your pups, g-give it all to me- nghh!”

Amidst the chaos occurring above you, your nerves lit up as your orgasm snuck up on you, your lips parting in a silent cry while San continued his arrhythmic thrusts despite the tremors shaking your body. Whispered I’m sorry's blew over your skin, the setting sun bidding you farewell through the open blinds and painting the walls in a pinkish hue, the rays’ warmth nearly equivalent to that within you as San’s cock spurted weak ribbons of white between your walls. You whimpered at the overstimulation, and San pulled out of you, resting his softening length on your mound while the other hybrid used him like a fucktoy.

The rasp in Wooyoung’s voice echoed in your ears, “gonna look so pretty when you’re swollen.” San’s mewled in response. “All mine, my pretty kitty, going to take all of Youngie’s cum,” he ended with a throaty grunt, snapping his hips thrice before stilling, his knot locking in place and his abdomen flexing as he unloaded inside his heat.

San’s body seized up atop of yours, his face scrunching in discomfort momentarily before easing, and his muscles turned to jelly as he relaxed over you. But Wooyoung’s hand reached between their tangled limbs, pressing San’s spent cock into your lower belly and ignoring the broken protests from below. Grinding his hips into San’ stretched rim, he emptied his thick load inside his used hole, his hand dragging the blonde’s cock over the faint bulge in your tummy where a pool of his cum sat within your womb.

“Youngie, ‘hurts, it hurts-” He hiccupped, and yet his hips followed the movement, forcing his eyelids open to watch his angry cockhead smear watery cum and remnants of your arousal over the skin. “I can’t- please, I-I-”

“Yes you can, Sannie,” you interjected, running a shaky hand through his damp locks, “you can give Woo and I one more, right?”

His eyes welled up with tears, but he nodded nonetheless, the thick knot tugging against his swollen entrance as he slid his length over your skin. “F-feels weird, mommy,” but San kept moving, Wooyoung’s hand still spread over the length to trap him against you.

It was as though a pressure had been rapidly building inside him—Wooyoung’s knot stretching him open and his cum fucked so deep inside him, your skin so smooth and tender under his overstimulated cock as he continued to rut against it. Rough fingers wrapped around the base of his tail, tugging harshly and sending waves of euphoria crashing through San’s trembling body. The pressure burst in the form of translucent streams, his cock twitching uncontrollably as Wooyoung palmed over the head, urging more liquid to squirt out of it and coat your torso. A broken cry ripped out of San’s throat, jerking backwards and away from the puppy’s merciless touch until he gave him some reprieve.

Strong arms wrapped around San’s waist, holding him against his firm body while his chest rose and fell erratically. You sat up, running gentle hands over San’s thighs while peppering kisses over his damp skin, patient while the spasming in his muscles died down. Resting back on his heels, Wooyoung’s arms remained protective around San’s delicate body, eyes roaming over the liquid dripping off your breasts and down your abdomen, a cheeky smile stretching his lips until his canines peeked through:

“I think kitty's all out of milk.”

Once Wooyoung’s knot went down, he slapped off the sticky paws clinging to him and kissed away the pout painting San’s lips, rushing out of bed to clean up. San complained for less than minute before you walked in—showered and carrying a wet rag—to clean him up, running the cloth between his legs and wiping away all the slick and cum. He would shower later, but now, he allowed you to slip a fresh pair of matching pajamas onto his limp body, inhaling the familiar scent of your vanilla-scented laundry detergent before sinking into the clean bedding you’d laid out.

Settling into bed with his head tucked into your neck, limbs tangled up underneath the duvet, you heard the resonant purr sounding in his chest a few seconds before wet footsteps breached the doorway. A warm body followed by a trail of floral bodywash stretched over you to flop behind San's figure, arms enveloping the fatigued hybrid and his hands falling over your waist. With a final look at the two of them—San’s eyes fluttering shut as he succumbed to his exhaustion, cheeks flushed and his hair matted with dried-up sweat; a soft snore dragging your attention to the knocked-out puppy, damp, purple locks spread out on the pillow under his head while he squeezed himself flush against San’s back.

Despite his drowsiness, San peeked an eye open to look at you, an easy smile curling the corners of his lips once he found your gaze. You leaned forward to press your lips to his forehead, then his cheekbones, and finally his pouted lips, moving back while scratching behind his fluffed ears to watch slumber pulling his eyelids shut. You mooned over the tranquillity weaved into his expression—the subtle tug at the corner of his lips, a smile he couldn’t hold back even when unconscious—as though he carried no concern for the next wave of his heat, content so long as he remained encompassed within the familiar scent of vanilla and lavender.

reblogs/feedback are greatly appreciated!! ^^ apply for my tag list here (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

[wheeboo]

seventeen and their reaction to finding drawings of them in a sketchbook

PAIRING. seventeen (ot13) x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship, headcanons WARNINGS. terms of endearment  WORD COUNT. 1.08k

requested by @cinnamoroxie​: hi hi raniaaa !! what ab svt w an s/o that has like an entire sketchbook dedicated to drawing them? and then they get all upset and pouty if they see u drawijg another svt member

notes: so my mind for some reason processed this as a reaction and kinda accidentally veered off “seeing u drawing another member” to “seeing A drawing of another member” for this oops i’m sorry 😭 but i hope that’s fine alkfjsdf??? anyway this was silly to write 

choi seungcheol

discovered your sketchbook on accident and when he opened it, just imagine his eyes going wide as he drops everything he was doing and runs out to find you in the living room. he’s like “you’ve been hiding all this from me?” but when he stumbles upon a sketch on the side of hoshi w his stuffed animal tiger, he immediately pouts and feels that pang of jealousy and you’re like “hoshi was the one who wanted me to draw him like that! you know I always love drawing you!”

yoon jeonghan

knows you love drawing but didn’t expect to find a sketchbook filled w drawings of him. just in pure awe the entire time as he goes thru the sketchbook with you next to him, muttering quiet praises of admiration that leaves you meltingggg. but when he finds this unfinished sketch of what looks like joshua, all he could do is look at it and be like all sarcastically “hm, I don’t remember you having a second boyfriend?”

joshua hong

would be so enanamoured by your drawing abilities. every time you flip a page to show him more drawings you’ve done of him he would constantly try to go back to the previous page, admire it for a minute longer, before telling you to proceed. but when you flip to a page showing a little drawing of seokmin, he’d look down at it, grab your pencil from your hand, and erase seokmin’s face to replace with a silly one, drawing an arrow saying “← not your boyfriend”

wen junhui

literally in awe and shock the entire time, constantly showering you w praise and prob constantly asking questions like how did you draw his nose so perfectly?? how do you shade so perfectly?? how the heck did you draw hair?? he has so many questions and you are willing to answer all of them. but when he stumbles upon a drawing of minghao he gets all whiny “why did you draw him?? I’m right here!!!”

kwon soonyoung 

another one constantly asking questions and praising you, and he reacts so dramatically as you flip thru each page. this time all of your respective drawings is ensured to always have some sort of tiger/horanghae reference in there. so when he sees a sketch of jihoon doing a wooahae he just gets all disappointed and pouts “if you were going to draw another guy at least make him do a horanghae” knowing damn well jihoon won’t ever do that irl

jeon wonwoo

is silently appreciating each and every drawing. pieces together the outfits you’ve drawn in his mind since he would catch you drawing when you both are alone, and turns out you were drawing him at whatever moment you could. but when he sees a silly lil sketch of mingyu, he takes off his glasses to get a closer look and you see the kinda jealous look to his face and you’re like “babe don’t be jealous, it was the time we all hung out together and mingyu wanted a lil doodle of himself”

lee jihoon

he’s like wonwoo but a bit more vocal abt it. super super impressed from how accurate your drawings are. and you always say to him after every drawing “its bcuz you looked so handsome at the time” and he get so so shy abt it, but internally he’s deeply touched. but when he sees a drawing of seungcheol he gets a tad bit jealous and crosses his arms “did he look handsome at the time too?”

xu minghao

honestly don’t be surprised if he also has a sketchbook full of drawings of you lmao. the two of you are practically bound together by your interests in art and prob have frequent doodling n painting sessions together, always complimenting and praising each others work. but if he stumbles upon a funny drawing jun in the corner, he does that lip pout iykwim “what happened to me being your muse, honey?”

kim mingyu

is like every possible synonym of the word happiness and endeared and loved. gets dramatic like hoshi and becomes so prideful like “I know I was so handsome that day, right?” or you know “you got my good angles!” and you just roll your eyes playfully. but boy does this man pout and sulk like crazy whenever he sees like a drawing of wonwoo or another member “babe, I thought this was a sketchbook about ME” 

lee seokmin

oh he’s so happy, like beyond happy and giddy. absolutely melting inside n squealing throughout each page turn with his mouth open agape. he’s literally so proud of you for the efforts you put in each drawing of him and wishes he can pay your love back somehow. but if he sees a lil doodle of joshua or other  members on another page he has that cute frown to his face and whines “sunshine...” then he’s like “okay you know what would be better?” and then he draws a mustache or something funny on top of the drawing

boo seungkwan

is literally your personal fanboy and hypes you up from any drawing you show him, but he gets soo shy n flustered whenever you showed him drawings that you did of him. in amazement he’s like “is that really me?” as he takes in each drawing with absolute detail. but if he sees this funny sketch of vernon on one page, he might get a lil insecure, so pls reassure him that it was only a funny moment you wanted to draw when vernon and seungkwan came over to your place

vernon chwe

gives those nods of approval as you go through each page. it may not seem like it, but he’s very very impressed. here and there he quietly mutters a soft “wow” as he traces a finger over some of the drawings as if making sure it was real and not a figment of his imagination. but say he sees a lil funny doodle of seungkwan, he’d be like “wow that actually looks like him” and then you lightly slap his arm “babe! he doesn’t even have a face”

lee chan

begs on your knees for you to show him your drawings, and when you do, he gets so into it. “wait wasn’t this the time when we had that cafe date?” or “omg! that’s when we went to the zoo during the holiday” and then he attempts to recreate some of the poses. but when he stumbles upon a brief sketch of jeonghan or another member, he just scoffs “wait till you see this. I can do a better pose than him!”

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae @icysungho

[st6rly]

smoke clears when you’re around.

[ !! ] — masterlist. info: wriothesley x gn!reader, fluff, modern au-ish, scenario notes: unfinished bc i’m too tired and busy cram studying to complete it lmao. promoting my “certain cryo characters don’t know how to ice skate agenda” sorry not sorry. should i be studying for two tests tmr?? yes most definitely like i’m going to fail both but we ball

“c’mon, wriothesley, i’ve got you,” you coaxed, a hand outstretched towards him. laughter you had tried so hard to have stifled nearly escaped as you watched his wobbly legs made their way onto the ice.

he latched onto the wall, knuckles turned white from how gripped the railing that surrounded the rink, and glared at you.

“don’t laugh at me,” he grumbled. if you looked closely, you noted the slight furrow in his eyebrows and the ghost of a pout on his face.

“i’m not, i’m not.” you skated over and smiled warmly, prying one hand away and clasping it in yours. “i’ll be with you the entire time, trust me.”

he took a tentative step away from the, eyes locked with yours as he couldn’t help but bask in the enamoured look you carried.

“if you let go,” wriothesley said, a false threat behind his words. there was a hint of a smile laced between his lips as he spoke; faint and not quite visible among the tired gaze and stern look he usually wore.

“i won’t.”

“if i fall because you…”

“you won’t!” your snorted, eyes soft. “what kind of partner would i be if i just let all that happen, hmm?”

[ratcash-wasgud]

So like you know that one anime my dress up darling? Yeah so basically Mizu AU that but Mizu's a photographer who loves anime stuff and reader who's her fav cosplayer

Reader does a lot of risque cosplay stuff though and makes Mizu blush having to take close up shots of her body :3

hey lovely!

i've never seen this anime lmao, but this sounds good so I'll give it a go !!

I also made some audios for this one, beause RAAAAAAAAHHHHH I'M FERAL

(btw this is pretty short, and kinda unfinished but I didn't just want to leave this one in the drafts forever.)

"Okay, could you...hold your hand up a little? Like...to your face?" Mizu mumbles from behind the camera, her tounge darting up to wet her lips. She has done this a couple times before, doing a free photshoot for you while you're in cosplay. Not only because it has both of her favourite things: Anime and pretty women, but because well...it's you.

She has seen your cosplays online a couple times, so when she ran into you on a con, and she asked for you number to do a photshoot later, and you said yes despite her suttering, she almost wet her pants in excitement.

She loves taking pictures of you, in and out of cosplay too. During your three months of knowing eachother Mizu has developed a fat crush on you. She has realized that under you lovely exterior, you're so very sweet on the inside. You always smile even when her camera isn't in her hands, and you bring her sweets and little gifts everytime, as if you owe her anything. If anything, she owes you for letting her gawk at you.

This time is different though. Mizu couldn't take one single usebale picture so far, because her hands are violently shaking. The reason is simple...today's cosplay is Misato, from NGE. But this time, you have your Misato wig and makeup on, but you're outfit consist of a towel wrapped around you, referencing that one scene where she runs out of the bathroom. Why? It's niche. And you love niche stuff.

"Okay uhm...sorry, can we...take a quick break?" Mizu lowers the camera, needing to take a deep breath. She has never been this close to an almost naked woman before, and it's fuzzing up her brain. Plus that almost naked woman happens to be you, so she definetly needs a breather.

"Yeah, sure." You say, straightening your back and getting out of the pose you were just doing. "Is anything the matter?" You ask, giving her that sweet, but so oblivios look she love-hates. It's unbelievable to her that someone as hot as you can be so unaware of the effect she has on people.

"No, no, I just...it's just...I need a bathroom break." Mizu says, not really wanting to admit how insanely attracted to you she is. It would help sooooo much if you knew by default. She escapes to the bahtroom like the coward she is, and washes her face. She checks her phone just to see the groupchat blowing up.

Taigen: omg are u dead yet?

Akemi: staaawp she is probs nervous leave her alone >:(

Ringo: Is she still there? Tell her she is pretty and her smile shines like a thousand suns!

Taigen: dumb ass advice

Taigen: tell her her ass looks good

Akemi: can u stop acting like a dog

Taigen: why it usually works

Mizu just sighs as she reads the texts. They are definetly not helping. She comes out of the bathroom in the same helpless state she was in before. When she sees you again, you're leaning against the wall, the towel slipping a little lower, giving Mizu a clear picture of where your areola starts. She swallows hard, but it's somehow dry and tries her best at wiping her sweaty hands in her pants in the least obvious way.

She must've been staring for a while because you hit her with a "What?" and a chuckle.

"Uh...nothing." Mizu blinks rapidly to snap herself back to reality. "Just uh...you know." Mizu awkwardly gestures at her chest, micking a pulling up motion. "Your uh...fans might die if I took pictures like that."

You look down, realising your towel has slipped. "Oh...Oh God, sorry!" You akwardly laugh as you pull it up. "Jesus...that's so embarasisng." You say, trying to laugh it off.

"No, no, it uh....shouldn't be embarssing. It's fine." Mizu says, waving her hands around in a way that's supposed to be dismissing. "I liked it." She adds quietly.

But, it somehow made it's way to your ears, as you lifted an eyebrow.

"You...did?" You chuckle, tilting your head.

"Uh, I..." Mizu is stunned. Fuuuuuuuuuuck nobody ever hears what she's mumbling why now? Why the most embarassing thing ever?

[lovelybunn]

human!wally darling w/ u wearing apple scented perfume…

warning(s): reader being a socially awkward loser, flirty wally

author's note: the main reason i clairified that he was human is bc a puppet isnt anatomically allowed to do most of what hes doing here lmao + i love melanated wally 🩷 (lowkey got ooc on last paras, we don't talk about it...)

Wally places gentle strokes against his canvas, his mind and body completely relaxed. Just as he finishes the final touches, he feels a presence behind him. He smiles, “Hello, neighbor.” He swivels around in his stool to face the figure. “Hey Wally! What is that your painting?” He looks over his shoulder back at his work. He shrugs. “No clue. I just paint how I’m feeling.”

He crosses his legs and places his cheek in the palm of his left hand. “What brings you here to visit little ol’ me, neighbor?” His eyes lidded while he bats his long lashes. You grin sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. “Well... This may be a little random, but I’ve bought this new perfume, and I wanted to hear someone else’s opinion on whether it flattered me or not.”

He purses his lips and tilts his head in bewilderment. “Why did you come to me, specifically? Personally, I would’ve asked Julie, she’s very skilled in these kinds of things.” You nod, “Yeah, but you’re more, how do I say this? … Blunt, then she is.” He laughs in response, a noise almost like a broken record. “Is that so?” He uses two fingers to gesture you to come forward, “Then come here, darling, if you want to know what I think.”

You step closer to Wally and give him your hand. He takes it, observing the delicate lines of your palm before carefully pulling it to his nose. He breathes in deeply, taking in your scent. His face contorts, trying to recognize the fragrance.

With a flash of dopamine, his pupils dilate intensely, the black shadowing over the natural color of his irises. “You smell absolutely astonishing, (Name). This perfume is the absolute most.” He returns your hand, it slowly resting back at your side.

Your eyes avert as your cheeks warm up to a fresh shade of red. It slightly reminds Wally of a bright red apple ripe and plucked right off the tree. “I’m glad you like it so much, Wally.” You stammer; he smiles gently in response.

“I think I’m starting to understand why you asked for my view on this, (Name).” Wally looks straight into your eyes. He has read you like a book. “It’s apple scented. You knew I would love it, neighbor. My reaction got a kick out of you, didn’t it?” His words flow like velvet off his tongue.

You quickly scramble out an apology, “I'm so sorry, It's just that I–” Wally cuts you off by caressing your hand again, this time placing a sweet peck on its surface. “You're adorable, neighbor. If anything, I'm flattered for you wearing this, to get a reaction out of me." He pulls away, his eyes never leaving yours. His smile grows, canines flashing welcomely at you. “I think the way you smell has worked up an appetite in me.”

He hops off his stool and offers you his right arm, “Why not we go and do some apple picking, neighbor?” You take his arm, but pause to glance at his unfinished work. “Sure, but what about your painting?” He shrugs, “Well, I didn't know what it was to start with. It'll be fine.” Wally's expression beams with giddy intent, “Well then, neighbor, let's go! The apples are delicious this time of year.” His head turns to you. “I'm so excited! I hope I find one that tastes as sweet as the perfume you have on smells. I doubt it, though. After all, you are the sweetest apple of my eye, my darling.” Wally playfully winks as the two of you head off to the apple orchard.

[schyrosoreffs]

Wow this totally didn’t took almost 2 yrs to finish..

Anyways helloo I’m still alive woweee!!, this is like the revamp of the old Teovy MCD AU I made since the old one was problematic (It was Teony being a maid and Ivy being a higher status than her) When I posted it, I didn’t think much of it but people have informed me that portraying Teony like that is extremely harmful and I’m sorry about it again, I was completely ignorant about topics like these, so thank you for the people educating me about it. After that I did try to like remake it over the last year but I was struggling to come up with something.. leading it to be unfinished and forgotten about. I also just got really busy with school, and dealing with some personal issues, so I just stopped working for like a long time idk? But since school finally ended, I finally focused on finishing the revamp. It might not be the best lol, I’m not really confident at writing so apologies for that, but here it is!! its still unfinished but I feel like its enough already? I’ll just continue it when I’m motivated to write again and I think that’s all, really sorry that this took so long.

Here's like the google doc link for like the context for the Teovy AU if you want to read it, no pressure lmao

++ some MCD Teony doodles since I just wanted to show the design of what she looks like and stuff..