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sukunasteeth · 1 month

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Sukuna has never said no to you.

It didn’t matter what the request was, simple or complicated, easy to fix or a days-long job, Sukuna was always at your side, completing the task as fast as he needed to to keep you satisfied. He would love to deny it, you’re sure, but evidence proves time and time again that he puts your needs and wants at the top of his priority list.

And you were curious how far you could go with it.

The two of you are sitting in your underwear at the breakfast nook, warming yourselves in the bay window while the morning sun starts on the leftover night time chill. It wasn't quite time for breakfast, still too early for the both of you. In the meantime, you sip on your morning brews, preserving the comfortable silence. Sukuna is flipping through the day's newspaper, his eyes are groggy with sleep and he hasn't said more than a handful of words to you yet. He wasn't a morning person.

You were starting to change that.

"Kuna," You call to him, nudging him with your foot from your corner of the window bench.

"Hmm?" He doesn't look up from the paper, but his hand reaches down and grabs your foot, pulling it into his lap. His thumbs start to subconsciously knead at your muscles.

"I want these." You hold up your phone, which you had previously been scrolling through in an attempt to find something ridiculous for this exact moment. You were sure you had found it, something even Sukuna would find unnecessary.

And yet, he merely glances at your screen, takes in the sight for all of two seconds, and then returns his attention to whatever news article he was in the middle of.

"My wallet's on the counter." He clears the sleep from his throat not sparing a second look.

You blink at him in surprise.

"D-Did you even see what it is?" You flip your phone around to make sure you were displaying the correct thing.

Sukuna is frowning before he looks up again, curious at your persistence. He gently cups your hand, bringing it only a minuscule amount closer to examine your screen a second time.

You were on one of the most luxurious brand’s websites, showing him an incredibly regular pair of panties, no straps, no details, all black- with one of the most outrageous price tags you had ever seen for something so ordinary.

Sukuna cocks a brow at you over your phone, "Can't imagine you need more panties when you're constantly stealing my boxers. But whatever, hand it over. I know my card number-"

"Kuna," You interrupt him with a surprised laugh, holding fast to your phone when he tries to pluck it out of your hands, "they're a thousand dollars."

He glances back, his eyes focusing lower on the screen where you know the price tag to be. The newspaper in his hands drops down, momentarily forgotten by what he sees. For a moment, you think you've found his limit.

"Wait, are those red one's assless?" He points just below the price, where the recommended products are depicted. "Get those too."

You drop the phone down so that he meets your eyes, which are wide with shock.

Sukuna always took care of you. Always insisted on being the provider of any single thing that you may need; a warm meal, a soft bed, anything your eyes twinkled at that was available for purchase- even if you would never think of buying or owning it. Granted, you never wanted much in terms of material possessions, so you didn't realize the true extent of Sukuna's leniency until now.

It was slightly intimidating, and part of it felt wrong. Sukuna had money, plenty of it, but that didn’t mean he should feel the need to spend copious amounts of it on you just because you could ask him to. He was giving you too much power, it felt like.

You huff through your nose, frowning at him, which only has him tilting his head further to the side in question.

You ignore it, setting your phone onto the window seat and crawling your way closer to him, until you can gather up his face in your hands and lock his gaze into yours.

He glares at you past smushed cheeks, but doesn't make a move to break free of your hold, humoring you. "The hell are you doing-"

"You know you don't always have to say yes to me?"

Now that has him taken aback. His mouth automatically opens for a witty response, but your question seems to have effectively taken the words from his mouth. You can see the cogs in his head turning, and what you wouldn't give to peer inside his mind and hear his thoughts.

It takes him a moment, but eventually that familiar confident smile stretches across his sleepy face. His hands seem to instinctively slide their way up your bare legs until his fingers grip your hip bones, pressing into you.

He hums, "When have you ever said no to me?"

You scoff, ready to give him a prime example, but end up coming up short. The two of you loved to tease each other with disobedience, but in the end you were eager to give Sukuna anything his heart desired. You loved to please him, it was one of your favorite things to do, in fact.

"You never ask anything ridiculous of me." You remind him, smiling as one of his warm hands slides back down your waist and dips into the pair of his boxers you were sporting that day.

"You know what's ridiculous?” His voice wraps around your throat, and suddenly has you swallowing past the delicious grip. You're folding into him before you even realize it, at the mercy of his calloused hands. "The implication that I wouldn't do just about anything for you."

You can't help but sigh hopelessly, although it comes out as a desperate noise that pleads him for more. You really were all his, just like he loved to tell you.

"Now hand me your phone." It's a whisper, coaxing you. "I wanna see you in red."

You can’t say no.

At least it was mutual.

#jjk #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #kuna is a feral dog in the eyes of anyone that isn't you #you bring out the puppy love in this psycho #careful #he bites #this was a short and sweet #fluff

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textmel8r · 5 days

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[ DRABBLE + SMAU ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( seventh installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight.

୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro

୨୧˚ cw; sugar mommy! reader , sugar baby! toji , masturbation , angst , profanity , descriptions of violence , toji being a pathetic little sicko :D

୨୧˚ an; sorry this part is on the shorter side😅😅 it’s more of a filler chapter but i still like it!

It’s well past midnight when Toji slips his way back into his motel room. It’s dingy and drab, the once-white walls twinged a sickly yellowish tint from chain smoking guests. Ugly bedspread details different flowers that Toji couldn’t name, the same aged pattern clinging to the drapes that were pulled shut over the front window, never to be opened. It smells of heady sweat and open wounds, though maybe that’s just him. No, it definitely is him. He’s hyper aware of the grimy layer of filth that acts as a second layer of skin. It’s gritty and uncomfortable.

The bathroom cubicle is claustrophobic; if Toji were to stand in the center of the room, he could easily touch all four walls that boxed him in. He sits on the closed toilet seat lid, staring at his hands. They’re huge, intimidating. Trembling, spattered in blood that’s long since crusted into a dark concretion, cracking at the hinges of his fingers. His hands that took the lives of two innocent men just hours prior. Toji didn’t want to kill them, but they wouldn’t cooperate. Oh, how they shrieked and hollered for their lives as he dragged them into that alley. They just kept fucking screaming.

“Fuck…” The man sighs grimly, letting his head dip forward to rest in the cups of his filthy palms. His bangs feel matted and crunchy with remnants of sweat. Disgusting self-pity blooms at the base of his hollow chest, and suddenly Toji has the urge to ram his skull into the drywall. Or dislocate his finger. Or do anything to punish himself for that feeling of defeatism. The nerve to possess such a shameful victim mentality, as if he deserved sympathy. He’s a killer; the best he deserves is a fucking electric chair.

Toji showers. A long, scalding shower that singes him to the bone. Water stained red cascades down the rippling wall of muscles that was his body and swirls down the rusty drain. These post-slaughter showers used to be blank canvases of his life. Ones where Toji’s brain would shut off and try to forget the atrocities committed by his hand. He would scrub his flesh raw, scrub scrub scrub mindlessly until he ached all over. But now, he only thinks of one thing.

You.

Maybe it’s some sick coping mechanism, turning to thoughts of you in times like these. In a pathetic form of self comfort, he reminisces. Your hands holding his face, your know-it-all smile, your way with words. God, your fucking way with words.

“My sweet boy,” Toji whispers under his breath, touching himself. As if he could replicate the delicate way in which you spoke to him. His eyes shut, desperately clinging onto the mental image of you beneath him in his bed. Your arms outstretched, reaching for him like you want him. Like you love him. “My sweet…” Toji tries to fade into the warmth of the spray, imagining it to be your body heat encapsulating him instead. But the water is far too hot, it hurts; you wouldn’t hurt him like this. He tries so damn hard to disassociate into the pleasure, as if his hand would magically dissolve into yours. Yeah, right. His hand is too big to ever compete with yours. Too fucking rough and gritty and mean.

The flat of his palm finds the greasy tiles of the shower wall. Toji fucks himself with all the roughness he deserves, lower lip staked between two rows of teeth to cease its quivering. He’s going to cum. Your face appears in his psyche once more, but this time, it’s from the first time you visited him in the hospital all those months ago. He can see the picture so vividly, it scares him: you seated at his bedside, poking and prodding over his obliques, muttering a stream of concerned questions. But you were never upset or angry. No, despite the worries, you were still smiling. At him.

Fuck, he’s really going to cum.

Toji grits his teeth, climaxing with a harsh shudder and a broken gasp of your name on his lips. Small jolts force him into a twitchy state, and he leans forward to rest his forehead against the tiles beside his hand. Semen paints the wall below, too far to the left for the shower spray to rinse it off. He doesn’t bother to clean it off. He’s too repulsed by himself to do much of anything.

The plasticky sheets stick to his skin. Sleeping in just a pair of boxers was probably a stupid idea, bed mites were a real cause for concern, or so Shiu had told him. But it’s hot. He’s hot. And restless. And uncomfortable. He always had trouble falling asleep in foreign beds. Lidded eyes peek over to the alarm clock perched on the side table, its cherry digits splaying 2:47am. You were asleep.

He reaches for his phone anyway, wracked with guilt all the while. The tension in his thighs still persisted, still succumbed to the aftershocks of his orgasm he fucked himself to with your face in his mind. He’s fucking gross. This is gross.

She’s sleeping, jackass. Don’t wake her up because you’re lonely.

Be a fucking man and lick your own wounds. That’s what his father would say.

He texts you anyway.

He presses the call button. It only gets through half a ring before the line cuts on and he hears a groggy “hey” filter through the receiver. How long has it been since he’s heard your voice? Not that long, only three days and yet it feels like it's been three lifetimes. And that’s truly the moment when Toji knows you’ve fucked him for life, because when did he start thinking such sappy shit like that?

“Hi,” he answers, melting back into the stiff mattress. His gaze wanders along the waterlogged ceiling, tracing the abstract damp stains that have settled in its popcorn surface. He thinks offhandedly that one of them vaguely resembles a rabbit. “Sorry for waking you.”

“You already apologized, silly. I told you it’s okay.” There’s a pause. “It’s nice to hear your voice.”

It’s nice to hear yours, too. “Go to sleep.”

“Yeah, okay.” The sound of sheets stirring crackles, Toji assumes you’re tossing in bed. “You’re sleeping now, too, right?”

He paws at his stomach, the pads of his rough fingertips tracing the gutters of his abdominal plates before he sinks his blunt nails into his own flesh. “In a bit.”

“Soon. It’s late, Toji.” You order him to bed like a mother would her child.

He nods as if you could see the gesture. “Soon, then.”

You bid him a good night, turning once more into bed before settling back into the depths of the slumber Toji had interrupted. He clasps his cell between his ear and shoulder, basking in your gentle breaths. It’s the same sounds you made the night you fucked him. He slept upon your chest, head over your heart, listening to its beats. You drooled on his pillow, he gave a quiet scoff at the memory. Are you drooling now?

Toji never sleeps.

likes and reblogs are appreciated !

tags . • @4imhry @sugurubabe @mastermasterlist1p1 @mikisspeak @fluttershyfangs @iluv-ace @xstom @bratbby333 @mizzfizz @sserafin @wo-ming-bai @maexc @r0semultiverse @r0ckst4rjk @aesukuni @taelattecookie @purple-obsidian @hqtoge @khaothick @saintkaylaa @ya9amicide @crayzyaarna @saiki-enthusiast @haesify @nyamocka @sixxze @lifesucksweswallow @darkstarlight82 @megumisdivinedogs @celestialol @yunho-leeknow @ghostfacefricker6969 @aizawa19 @lupicalbestwolf @nymphsdomain @makuzume

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yunopouts · 7 months

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scream - l. jeno

-> lee jeno x fem reader

-> frat! au, pure smut (jeno lee is one nasty mother fucker in this one y'all)

-> CW: dom! jeno, rough sex(??), choking, edging, a small... TINY (VERY TINY) bit of ass play, protected sex, handjob, overuse of the word fuck, overstim, head god jeno, fingering, spitting, squirting, slight praise, lots of crying (reader), dumbification, marking/biting, scratching, blood, nipple play, gagging, bdj (big dick jeno LMFAOO)

-> a/n: this is my apology for going on such a long break T-T, i'm telling you i didn't even realise it went on for that long. i was checking in every now and then but i feel so bad T-T anyways! I'm back :P this one doesn't have THAT much dialogue, so i hope you guys enjoy the gory details 😁 also i think this is the filthiest, most smutty, smut i've ever fucking written, and i've written a lot... trust me on this.

-> upcoming: dilf! jaehyun next week and maybe another halloween special idk. oh btw, everything has some sort of halloween aspect to it :)) psst! requests are open!!

-> word count: 4.2k!

-> also p.s: idk how to explain the way he's acting in this fic... he's like very sweet and cute when he's kissing, but he's being a bitch when he's fucking and being rough... idk, i hope you understand what I mean. but also, as rough as he maybe, he's very touchy-feely and kissy :D ANYWHO! I present to you, six pages of pure filth!

safe! master list

mature! masterlist

“When you said we’re going to a party, I didn’t know it was a frat party.” Minjeong said as the three of you walked through the door. The house reeked of weed and sweat, all the criteria for a proper frat party, except everyone is in a Halloween costume.

“Girl, where else would the party have been?” Jimin scoffed lightly. She paused in the doorway, looking down at her phone before she sighed. “Apparently Sungchan’s waiting for me in the living room, I’ll see you two later?” Both you and Minjeong nodded, wishing the girl goodbye and watched as she walked away in her cheerleader costume.

Turning to each other, you silently agreed that the first thing you needed was a drink, so you headed off to the kitchen.

“I forgot to tell you how hot you look in that outfit.” She said in your ear, loud enough for you to hear over the music, and you gave her a smile while you poured yourself a drink.

“So do you,” you whistled as you looked her up and down, the way the gross boys in movies do when they spot a hot girl.

Together, you looked like an odd pair, seeing as you were dressed up as Jennifer, from Jennifer’s Body, and Minjeong was Little Red Riding Hood. The music thumped through the air as the two of you stood in the crowded kitchen, surrounded by costumed partygoers. The laughter and chatter blended with the bass, creating a symphony of Halloween revelry. Your playful compliment still lingered in the atmosphere, adding a touch of warmth to the otherwise chilly, dimly lit room. You took a sip from your drink, the alcohol burning your throat, but your attention was momentarily drawn away from the sensation by something else. From across the room, you spotted a familiar figure, the ever so iconic Ghost Face mask, in the back corner, talking to a boy dressed up as a mummy.

The menacing presence seemed to defy the festive atmosphere, and your eyes were drawn to it as if by some magnetic force. The Ghost Face mask turned slowly in your direction, and even though you couldn't see their face, you felt a shiver race down your spine. It was as though an invisible connection had formed between you and the enigmatic figure, a connection that transcended the costume and the anonymity it provided. There was something magnetic about their presence, something that sparked a potent and unspoken attraction.

For a brief, electrifying moment, your eyes met those hidden behind the Ghost Face mask. Time seemed to stand still as you locked onto each other, and a subtle, unspoken acknowledgment passed between you, like a silent agreement in the midst of the raucous party. Your heart quickened, and the room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that charged moment.

Feeling a surge of heat and anticipation, you reluctantly tore your gaze away from the enigmatic figure and turned back to Minjeong, who had been watching the silent exchange with keen interest. She met your eyes, and the shared understanding between you two was palpable. “You saw him too, didn’t you.” Minjeong said in a way that had her sounding winded. With a knowing smile and another sip of your drink, you and Minjeong silently toasted to the unspoken intrigue that had captured your attention.

As the night continued, the magnetic pull you felt towards the Ghost Face figure in the corner didn't wane. It was like an invisible thread connected the two of you, and despite the ongoing revelry, your attention kept drifting back to that mysterious presence.

Minjeong, ever perceptive, nudged you and raised an eyebrow as if to say, "Why not go for it?" Encouraged by her silent urging, you decided to take the initiative. Setting down your drink, you nodded toward the Ghost Face figure, indicating your intention to approach.

Minjeong gave you an encouraging thumbs-up before disappearing into the crowd, leaving you to navigate the sea of Halloween costumes on your own. You weaved through the dancing crowd, anticipation growing with each step.

As you approached, the mask-wearing figure seemed to sense your approach and turned slightly in your direction. They leaned against the counter with their arms crossed over their chest, waiting for you to arrive. The closer you got, the more you could feel the intensity of the connection between the two of you.

Finally standing face to face, the silence was almost deafening. The mask stared at you, unmoving, but you could sense a palpable tension beneath it. Without exchanging words, you both seemed to understand that this moment was special, a secret shared between you in the midst of chaos.

Slowly, your hand extended, and you reached for the Ghost Face mask. Your fingertips brushed against it, and you felt a rapid heartbeat beneath your touch. The mask gave the slightest nod, and you grasped it, carefully pulling it up.

Beneath the mask, a pair of intense, dark eyes met yours. You were momentarily lost in their depth, captivated by the enigmatic stranger who had held your attention all night. The corners of your lips curved into a small, knowing smile, and a spark of recognition flared in those deep, mysterious eyes.

The unspoken tension that had been simmering between you erupted in a whirlwind of excitement. It was a dance of anticipation and curiosity, an unspoken agreement that you had both been waiting for this moment. And even though the music continued to thump, and the crowd continued to revel, for that brief, electric moment, it was just the two of you, locked in a silent, thrilling connection.

You told him your name when he asked for it, and he introduced himself as ‘Jeno’.

“You wanna take this upstairs?” he asked with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You sucked in a breath and nodded before he pulled the mask back down and took your hand in his to lead the way through the crowd.

The staircase was crowded with a few people, Minjeong included. You spotted her talking to a girl in fairy costume and when you caught her eye, she gave you a grin, wider than you’ve ever seen.

Every now and then, Jeno’s leather gloved hand would lightly squeeze yours as you climbed up the stairs. You held on a little tighter each time, but before you knew it, you were standing in front of a room with a big ‘JN’ poster hanging in the middle.

The boy opened the door for you and let you enter first before entering himself. The door clicked shut behind you as you sat down on the bed, your eyes locked on Jeno's every move. With a seductive confidence, he slowly peeled off the Ghost Face mask, revealing a mischievous smirk that sent a shiver down your spine.

As he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours, you sucked in a breath in response to the sensual tension that crackled between you. His gloved hands, still gripping the mask, dropped to his sides, and he advanced with a slow, deliberate purpose. The room was drowning in desire, and you couldn't tear your gaze away from him.

Jeno moved in until he was standing directly in front of you. His presence was magnetic, and you found yourself unable to resist as he placed a hand on your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin. The touch was electrifying, and you leaned into it, your eyes closing as you savored the sensation. You reached up slowly and pulled his hands away, suddenly regretting it, but you went on with pulling the leather gloves off, exposing a set of large, veiny hands.

Kicking off your shoes, you moved to the top of his bed and watched as he concentrated on your every move with dark eyes. In a flash, Jeno had pulled off the cloak, leaving his chest exposed and him only in his jeans. It felt like you were freezing without his touch on you, but soon enough, he was in front of you, inspecting your face before his eyes ultimately landed on your lips that were stained red from makeup.

His lips rushed to meet yours in a tantalising kiss, a soft exploration that soon deepened into a passionate melding of mouths. The taste of him was intoxicating, and your tongues danced in a heated rhythm, exchanging breathless sighs and moans. Every kiss, every brush of his lips against yours, sent a rush of heat through your body. It was amazing.

His hands travelled from your face, down to your waist and they pulled you to meet his body. Jeno groaned into the kiss from all the friction caused by his chest rubbing against your sweater, making his nipples hard and sensitive.

While your arms wrap around his neck, Jeno’s hips dig into yours, creating a tent in his pants. It’s hard and uncomfortable but the pressure it’s putting on your cunt is to die for, so you grind… hard. Jeno moans your name while his hands tug at your jeans so aggressively you thought he would tear them if he continued. After blindly messing around with your pants, Jeno popped the button open and pulled down your jeans, exposing the lacy underwear you had on.

You whined as he pulled away from your lips but you shut up quicker than ever when you noticed how he was staring at your pussy. He looked hungry.

He looked like he was starving.

And starving, he was.

Jeno practically tore off your panties, tossing them somewhere behind him, before he dove into you. His tongue pressed flat against your pussy, licking a stripe up, the muscle’s warmth and making you moan softly. His nose poked at your clit as his tongue toyed with your hole. He lapped at your folds, making sure no spot was left untouched by his tongue. Jeno loved the way you tasted; you had the best pussy he’s ever eaten, he felt like he could spend all day eating you out, and he’d never get tired of it.

Jeno pulled away for a second to put his middle finger in his mouth, coating it in saliva before pressing it to your entrance. A hum escaped your lips as his thick digit slowly pulsed in and out of you as your hands worked to take off your sweater and shirt. Soon, one finger became two, and Jeno went back to eating you out. Your moans were driving him crazy; they were making it hard focus on your clit because his cock was so fucking hard. The hand he had pressed on your lower abdomen moved down to his button, undoing it and moving the zipper down far enough for him to get his dick out.

As he rubbed his cock, Jeno’s teeth grazed your clit before his lips latched on to it, sucking forcefully. With that, it didn’t take long for that feeling to start to form. As your moans quickened, the pace of Jeno’s fingers grew faster, and he sucked harder on your clit– if it were even possible. He loved the way you were tightening around his fingers, like you were trying to keep them inside you, wanting them absorb your juices.

“Fuck, Jeno…” you gasped, fingers tugging at his dark, messy hair. “God, I’m so close.”

Your eyes squeezed shut right as you were about to cum, but you never did. You felt so high, but now you dropped back down to zero, and you were empty and cold. Opening your eyes, you saw Jeno looking down at you with a smug expression. He leaned down and kissed you softly, which allowed you to taste yourself off his tongue, the somewhat sweet taste filling your mouth.

Reaching down, you felt for his cock, and began stroking when you found it. He was girthier than other guys you’ve had sex with, and he had a slight curve upwards, but my god was he long. You didn’t know if he would fit, but there was nothing you wouldn’t try.

Jeno moaned as he kissed you, the feeling of your warm hands rubbing him up and down forced him to thrust at the pace you were moving at. He pulled back from your lips to drop his head into the crook of your neck, marking and panting against the soft skin. Behind the shell of your ear, he wet a small spot with saliva before he kissed it softly, and he did the same to a few other spots. He sucked on your skin until it bruised while he moved down to the curve of your neck. Jeno’s hot tongue laid against your skin once again before he closed his teeth around it.

You jerked his cock harder as the boy continued to bite into different spots until his husky voice whispered a demand.

“Stop.” Jeno told you.

You did as you were told, but you kept your fingers trailing up and down his shaft as he kissed back up your neck, to your lips.

“Gimme two seconds.” he said against your lips with a smile. You kissed him quickly before he got up, which made him chuckle.

You watched as he got up, cock out and everything, which made you smile a bit. Jeno slid off his remaining clothes and tossed them in what presumed to be a laundry bin, and opened a drawer of his dresser, only to pull out something wrapped in a gold foil.

Oh…

Not one;

Not two;

Or three;

But six.

Jeno pulled out a strand of six condoms before he turned back to you. “Just in case.” he smiled innocently, even though he absolutely was not. He tore one from the line and ripped the top off with his teeth before he handed you the open package.

“Only six?” you asked in attempt to make a joke out of the pain you’re going to be in tomorrow.

Jeno chuckled as he shrugged while you took the condom and rolled it on to his cock. “We can use the whole pack if you want, it’s new.”

And that was that, seeing as Jeno grabbed your face and kissed you passionately. His tongue eagerly explored your mouth once again, grazing your own tongue and cheeks before he pulled away. A string of your mixed saliva hung like a teather from your mouth to his.

“Turn over for me, won’t you?” you nodded in a daze and turned so that your face was in the pillows. “Good girl,” he said, his cool hands grazing down your back, sliding all the way down to your ass. He spread your cheeks far enough apart to see everything, and you swore you heard evil laughter coming from somewhere.

What you thought was going to come, did not, in fact, come. Instead, you were surprised to feel a warm glob of spit fall on to your ass and how it trailed down to your pussy. Jeno leaned down and licked one long stripe, starting from your clit and ending at your ass. His tongue poked into your hole, once again, but this time he scisored in and out, the same way he used his fingers earlier. His tongue was warm and soft inside you, but that feeling didn’t last very long.

Jeno pulled his tongue out, subbing it out for his fingers, but instead, he used his tongue on your ass, sending shivers down your spine. He licked at the puckered hole, warming it up a bit as he fucked your pussy with his fingers.

“You doing okay?” he asked, but you were only able to moan out your response. His fingers fucked you faster, his thumb was ruining your clit with friction, your ass was slick with his spit. Everything was happening just as it needed to be for you to cum. “Oh fuck, Jeno, I’m gonna cum.” And this time you did. Jeno’s fingers curled inside you as they fucked you through your orgasm. Your body shook, your pussy was covered in spit and cum. Jeno’s fingers were coated in a mixture of his and your fluids, and he sucked it off like he was eating icing from a cake.

You felt hot and sticky; he hadn’t even fucked you with his cock yet and yet that was the best orgasm you’d ever fucking felt. “Jen… Jeno, I need you.”

The desparity in your voice sent Jeno spiraling and in no time, the fingers in your pussy were gone and his cock was poking at your enterance. He spit into his hand and coated his covered cock in it, even though he doubted he needed it, considering the fact that you were so wet you could drip on to his bed.

With a slow push, Jeno’s cock entered you, but refrained from moving after hearing you gasp. You knew he was going to be big, but you didn’t know he would be that big. He was a length you’d never taken before, so it took you a few minutes to adjust to his size, but soon enough you were able to build up to a medium pace.

Jeno’s hands snuck up your back to undo the clasp of your bra, exposing your breasts. Jeno firmly gripped your ass, with his thumb prodding at your assshole. You hummed with pleasure as the thick digit dipped into you slightly. With that, along with the pounding from his cock, you were basically in heaven.

“Faster,” you gasped, finally feeling only pleasure as he fucks into you.

Pulling you up by the shoulder, your bra slipped off in an instant, which let Jeno get a proper view of your tits, plump and beautiful. He watched how they jiggled with each thrust, and he grew more and more fond of them. Jeno even switched his grip on you from your shoulder to your neck. His hand gripped you around the base of your throat, just tight enough for there to be a handprint later. Meanwhile, the other snaked down to your pussy, where he drew fast circles on your clit. Jeno’s cock was deep inside your cunt, it filled you to the brim and you were loving every minute of it.

And so was he. The sound of skin slapping on skin, how your pussy fit his cock like a glove, how you moaned his name like you knew it well, how your back was practically glued to his chest. That made him go crazy; that made him fuck you even harder– a more vigurous pace that felt so good it brought you to tears.

Jeno got a hold of one of your nipples, it was hard and practically begging for it to be twisted. You moaned at the feeling and begged for more through your tears, so Jeno’s arms crossed over your stomach, his hands reaching up to play with your nipples some more. He pulled at them until they slipped from his grip, he squeezed them until you begged for mercy. When he shoved two fingers in your mouth, you gagged and yet you could still go further. Jeno pulled his fingers out and covered your tits in your spit.

It didn’t take long for his hips to pick up the pace once he that he was about to cum. Your moans grew choppier and choppier as his thrusts became more sharp.

“Shit, baby.” he groaned, his teeth biting down on your ear loab as he came. Your breaths were ragged in the moments of his orgasm, but you could feel his cock twitch inside you, even with the condom. Your body couldn’t keep up with the speed he was going at and soon enough you were shaking in his arms for a second time, cumming with him.

When Jeno pulled out, your head lolled backwards and you eyed him with a smile. Jeno kissed your temple and whispered his next words into your skin.

“On to the second condom, then?” You each laughed at his comment and Jeno wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly as he shook with laughter.

The boy helped you off of him before getting off the bed again to switch condoms. The exchange was quick and before you knew it, Jeno was hovering above of you once more, staring down at you like you were his prey. This predatory look formed a pit in your stomach, but the good kind.

Jeno’s eyes scanned you from head to toe.

Your body glistened with sweat, collarbones and throat covered with markings of all kinds, your nipples were puffy and wet, and your pussy was swollen and slick with juices. Everything looked delectable; you looked delectable and he was so tempted to consume it all.

The boy picked up one of your legs and propped it over his shoulder and placed his tip at your entrance. He bottomed out smoothly, and this time you seemed to be able to handle his length much better. Your head sunk into the pillows as you let out a sigh.

You watched how Jeno’s eyes closed when he felt your cunt wrap around him with his head falling back with pleasure. “Feels so good.” he groaned into the air, his jaw hanging open slightly as he continued to thrust. His head turned to the side and he brought your calf closer to his mouth, littering it with harsh bites and soft kisses.

Biting your lip, you reached your arm out, silently asking for him to come closer to you, to which he accepted. Setting your leg down, Jeno placed his arms on either side of your head, his face now just centimetres away from yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you wanted to keep the eye contact, so you mustered up the courage to look into his swirling orbs. In his eyes were a mix of emotions, ones that were unrecognisable to you, but you liked it. Tilting your head up slightly, you pecked his bottom lip lightly, which earned you a grin from Jeno. It grew wider when you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him in even closer to you. He hummed and kissed you back forcefully as he picked up the pace, his balls slapping against you sharply.

The tears that ran from your eyes down your cheeks seemed to motivate Jeno. Before, he could only hear your sobs, but seeing you cry switched something inside him. It made him want to fuck you harder, just to see you cry even harder. You looked so pretty, with your makeup all messy and tears running down your face. He loved it.

So he fucked you harder, and so you cried harder, you moaned louder, and you pawed at his back. His skin was under your nails, he could feel how they cut into him the harder he thrust. You were driving him fucking insane.

Jeno leaned his forehead on to yours as he moaned out sweet nothings. “I fucking love your pussy, fuck.” he cursed. His words made you tighten around his cock, which only made him groan louder, but it was like music to your ears. He felt like your pussy was sucking him in the way it would constrict when he fucked into you.

“Jeno, please,” you whimpered, but you didn’t even know what you were begging for. “Fuck, Jeno, you’re so fucking good.” you repeated your words as you whined out to him.

His words made your insides flutter, his movements made your heart race and your breaths quicker. Everything felt so good you could barely moan out words anymore.

He was fucking you dumb and silly. You were nothing but drawn out exclamations and tears. You were so sensitive, and yet you didn’t even want to tell him to stop.

It was just too good to stop.

So he kept fucking you, and he kept filling you, over, and over, and over again until you felt it. “Jen… Jeno, fuck, I’m cumming.” Suddenly, Jeno pulled out again, the same way he did earlier, but this time, he crawled between your legs again, fingering you until you came while jerking himself off. This one hit you so hard that your mind went completely blank and no words could even come out of your mouth. Jeno couldn’t even register what happened until he felt a wet substance leak on to his sheet.

He couldn’t fucking believe it.

His mouth latched on to your squirting cunt almsot immediately, drinking in your juices like it was water. Some liquid dripped down his neck as he lapped up the rest that leaked from your pussy, but he never let up. He continued to eat you out so well even after you came, you thought you were going to do it again.

As your hand raked through his dark hair, all it took was one tug at his roots for him to cum. Jeno rode his high by fucking himself into his mattress, and until he was done, he rest in between your thighs.

Slowly making his way up to you, you looked down, only to find that his dick was still hard. “You’re joking, right?”

“How about we finish that pack in a bit, hm?” he grinned, making you scoff.

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eddie4bat-president · 4 months

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Saw a drawing of Steve and now I'm suddenly thinking about artist Eddie who designed the Hellfire shirts and Corroded Coffin fliers and who draws the villains of his D&D campaigns to slap onto his DM screen for visual aid and doodles in class and-

And i'm thinking about Steve, in a relationship with Nancy, trying to ignore that things are rocky but knowing it all the same. He finds a notebook left behind in school and he only takes it because he forgot his own. He plans to use it for the day and then figure out whose it is and get it back to them in exchange, that's probably more than fair, right? And the person is really gonna want this back - it looks like half their life is contained in this thing; there is... a shit ton of loose paper stuffed between the pages and notes on all kinds of subjects and drawings and.... he doesn't even know what that is. Who is Vecna and what the hell is a... lich?

Anyway as he leafs through it he finds that some of the drawings are... actually really good. Like, absurdly good for being in a lined notebook that looks like it has taken a trip into a dumpster and picked up some debris on the way out.

Like! Those hands! Steve has no artistic bone in his body but he's heard people whine about drawing hands and - he looks at the hand not holding the book and back again - yeah, that's exactly what hands look like! And here - a few pages further (it's one of the most empty pages of the whole thing, mostly because this one seems to have started as a drawing and not as a page of notes that turned into a drawing) there are only a few lines on the page but it's still very clearly the back of someone's neck, the collar, one shoulder.... Then there's another one that is almost all lines, but they were all carefully placed to give the effect of perfectly windswept hair. Then there's one that he actually can't make sense of at first (he almost pages past it because it is just a few lines and dots taking up a quarter of a page of very annoyed... history notes? Maybe English.) It's just a jawline with some moles but... only the day before he had cut himself shaving a finger's width underneath those exact moles. And that's when it clicks. He goes back to the hair... yeah that- that could be him too. Maybe. He flips back to that one very detailed drawing of hands and... putting down the book he tries to get his hands into the same position - the angle is off but. Yeah. That's why they looked so perfectly...! Uhhhh... Handsy! Because they're his fucking hands!

Anyway Steve realizes that about a third of the drawings are or could be him. He realizes that he actually can't go through with giving it back because - what would he even say? "Hey found your notebook, nice shrine to me?" Yeah no. But he's... also reluctant to take it to the Lost and Found. There's something in the handwriting.... He has a feeling that it might not be a girl secretly drawing him. What if someone else connects the dots? What if they confront the mystery artist about it? Flashbacks to his fight with Jonathan, the line he crossed and immediately regretted. He doesn't want to be the cause for someone else getting called that. And unrelated to that, things with Nancy aren't great right now and it's... it's just nice to think someone is paying attention, alright?

Then Halloween happens a few days after. The Break-up(?), the demodogs, Billy and the tunnels- and afterwards it's nice to have the notebook to distract him from the pain. The mundane mystery of a schoolmate maybe having a crush on him. He might not even have to confront them - he can just figure out a way to slip it into their locker; it looks like at least half their schoolwork is crammed into this thing, no matter how half-heartedly done. They definitely want this back.

Man, I wish I could actually write this thing. Damn. Maybe I could even do a scene where Steve tries to Sherlock Holmes his way to Mystery Artist and confronts a (hatefully seething) Robin, because she sits behind him in that one class, only to find his own Watson in her instead. But alas. It cannot be.

#as usual this is as good as it's gonna get #steddie #steddie season 2 au #steddie ficlet #hey i'm talkin' here #steddie fic prompt #steddie notfic

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munson-blurbs · 5 months

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Eddie Munson x Shy!Reader

Summary: Max and Lucas are tired of their friends silently pining over each other but never making a move, so when the Winter Formal rolls around, they take matters into their own hands.

Warnings: mutual pining, idiots in love, fluffy fluff

WC: 1.8k

A/N: Happy anniversary to the love of my life, @corroded-hellfire 💚 one year ago today, we met in person for the first time, and my life has been infinitely better ever since. Thank you for being my best friend. I love you more than Dustin loves his Weird Al shirt. Red, this fic is for you.

Divider credit to @saradika

“Kill me now.”

Three words uttered by none other than Max Mayfield, sliding her lunch tray onto the table and sitting down with an irritated sigh.

You look at her with an amused grin. “What is it this time? Bombed a pop quiz? Got detention for flipping off a teacher—again?” Her brazen, flippant attitude provided many entertaining moments, so long as you weren’t on the receiving end of it.

Max shakes her head, spearing a limp macaroni noodle with her plastic fork. “I wish.” She holds up two tickets to the Winter Formal. “Lucas is dragging me to this bullshit. ‘All the other basketball guys’ girlfriends are going,’” she mocks him in an octave much lower than his actual voice, “so I guess that means I have to follow suit.”

Bringing a hand to your heart, you jut out your lower lip in mock-pity. “Oh, no; your boyfriend wants to show you off at a school dance! How will you ever survive?”

Max doesn’t miss a beat. “You could go, too,” she says, blue eyes pleading. “Keep me company when the guys inevitably bail to get wasted in the woods.”

“I don’t—”

“You don’t need a date,” she insists, reading your mind before the words can leave your mouth. “I’m telling you, Lucas is gonna ditch me as soon as Jason and Patrick show up.” She takes your hand between both of hers. “Please? I’ll even tell Ms. Kelly the lengths you went to for your poor, troubled freshie.”

You exhale, knowing that she doesn’t need to go to all of that trouble. You’d started off the school year as her peer mentor, but just a few months later, you two have become close friends. “Fine, I’ll go,” you acquiesce, laughing when she pumps her fists victoriously. “But I’m not gonna be happy about it.”

You return to your own lunch, completely missing the mischievous look that graces her freckled face.

Unbeknownst to you, a similar discussion is had at Hellfire Club later that same afternoon.

“Absolutely not,” Eddie scoffs, folding his arms across his chest. “Nice try, Sinclair, but I wouldn’t be caught dead at some lame dance.”

“Seriously,” Jeff smirks from his position across the table. “He’s never been to a single one in his ten years of high school.”

Eddie flips him off casually. “It’s only six, asshole. But that doesn’t matter, because I’m not dressing up in some penguin suit to drink unspiked punch with a bunch of shitty people.”

“C’mon, dude,” Lucas says, his tone bordering on a whine. “If you don’t go, I’m gonna be stuck with the jocks all night, and they just wanna suck face with their girlfriends.”

“And you don’t?” Gareth quips.

Lucas rolls his eyes. “Not in front of everyone. And I don’t need a front-row seat to their performances, either.” He turns his attention back to the Dungeon Master. “Look, I’m desperate. Mike’ll be visiting his grandma and Dustin’s grounded because of his D-plus in Spanish.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “What about Huey, Dewey, and Louie over here?” he asks, gesturing to the three remaining club members.

Their collective responses are jumbled excuses; Eddie swears one of them says he’s going kayaking—in mid-December in Indiana—but he doesn’t bother to sift through their lies. “You owe me, Sinclair,” he declares, pointing his forefinger at the underclassman. “Big time.”

The next few weeks leading up to the Winter Formal are spent meticulously making plans. For someone who seemed so disinterested in this dance, Max is paying careful attention to each detail.

You walk out of the dressing room in a velvet emerald green dress that hits just above the knee. Max is beaming as she adjusts the off-the-shoulder sleeves and smooths down any creases.

“You look really nice,” she says, nodding her head. She’s trying to temper her enthusiasm, but you can sense her excitement. “I can’t wait to tell Lucas.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Lucas? Why would he care?” He’s a nice kid—more in tune with emotions than the average fourteen-year-old boy—but that doesn’t constitute an interest in your fashion choices.

Max’s cheeks burn as red as her hair. “Uh, well, seeing you happy makes me happy, and seeing me happy makes him happy, so…everyone’s happy?” she finishes lamely. She clears her throat as if expelling the awkwardness from the conversation. “Anyway, let’s buy this dress so we can look for shoes.”

“Yeah, okay.” You’re not fully convinced, but you brush it off and steel your nerves to ask a question. “Is anyone else gonna be there that we know?” You really want to know whether Eddie Munson is going to be there, but you can’t say the quiet part aloud.

“Probably,” she shrugs, a bit too quickly, but she’s pushing you back behind the curtain to change before you can inquire more.

“Why does this stupid tie need to be green?” Eddie asks, sifting through the store’s selection with Lucas by his side.

“Uh, Christmas colors,” Lucas stammers, fumbling for a decent explanation other than the contents of his secret phone call with Max earlier today. “And, y’know, red is way overdone, so…” he trails off lamely, going back to the display table and hoping Eddie drops the matter.

They find exactly what they’re looking for—not without Eddie complaining about putting in too much effort just to be a third wheel—and make their way over to the food court. Eddie makes a beeline for the Pizza Hut when he stops dead in his tracks. “Shit, Sinclair; we gotta go,” he says urgently, clapping a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder and steering him away from the fast food.

“What the hell? I’m hungry!”

Eddie shakes his head, curls brushing against his shoulders. “Look, man.” He discreetly points to his left, where you and Max are giggling at the Orange Julius. “We can’t let them see us.”

“Dude, she’s like the nicest person ever,” Lucas rebuts. “Even Max likes her, and Max pretty much hates everyone.”

“That’s not the problem.” Eddie rakes his ringed fingers through his hair, wincing when he snags one on a knot. “The problem is that she’s gonna be all, ‘hi, Eddie; what’re you doing at the mall?’ And I’m gonna be all, ‘just picking out a tie for the Winter Formal.” And then she’ll go, ‘oh, who’s your date?” And then I’ll have to say, ‘I don’t have one; I’m just playing babysitter to some freshmen like a goddamn loser!” He hops back and forth to indicate each character change.

“First of all, ouch,” Lucas quips, “second, go hide in the bathroom if you want, but I’m getting something to eat.”

Eddie exhales an exasperated sigh, giving in and schlepping over to Pizza Hut, one of the few times in his life that he’s trying to be inconspicuous.

You pull into the school parking lot on the night of the Winter Formal and shift into park before killing the engine. Max is bouncing her leg up and down in the passenger seat, lower lip tucked between her teeth.

“What’s on your mind?” you ask, mistaking her excitement for anxiety. “You know that Lucas would think you look beautiful even if you showed up in a potato sack.” You furrow your brow. “Where is he, anyway? Why didn’t he come with us?”

She mumbles something about not wanting her mom to ask any questions about the relationship, and you take them at face value. Her eyes light up when she spots her boyfriend walking into the school alongside…Eddie Munson?

“Eddie’s here?” you ask in a hushed whisper, feeling sweat prickling under your arms. You’ve been nursing a massive crush on him for ages–one that Max is very much aware of. And now he’s here, dressed in a black suit with his hair pulled back into a low bun at the nape of his neck. “Max, why didn’t you tell me? Who’s he going with?” The idea of him slow dancing with someone else has your stomach turning.

Max just shrugs. “I don’t think he had a date.” Too casual, too blasé–she knows something. “C’mon, let’s go in.” She swings the car door open enthusiastically, leaving you shell-shocked in your seat.

“Maxine Mayfield!” you hiss, using her full government name to drive home your bewilderment, but she just skips ahead. Damn your heeled shoes, slowing you down before you can catch up to her. When you finally do, she just grabs your hand and tugs you towards the guys.

She poorly feigns surprise, jaw dropping as she exclaims, “Eddie? What are you doing here? Oh, my gosh, this is such a coincidence!” She pulls you closer, smiling far too wide. “Lucas and I both brought our upperclassmen friends! What are the odds?”

“Yeah, so weird,” Lucas says, not as loud as Max but just as transparent. He looks at Max before regarding you and Eddie. “Okay, well, we’re gonna go dance–bye!” The two of them scamper off, leaving you alone with Eddie. If their stilted dialogue wasn’t evidence enough, the way Eddie’s tie perfectly matches your dress certainly clears up their intentions.

Eddie speaks first, shoving his hands in his pants pockets and nervously swiveling his body. “I, uh, think we’ve been set up,” he says with a small, awkward chuckle. “I swear, it wasn’t my idea. Not–not that it’s a bad thing, I just meant, like, if you’re uncomfortable with this, I don’t wanna be held responsible.” His cheeks burn red. “Shit, I need to stop talking.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him with your own kind laugh, “we might as well make the most of it. Get some punch and make fools of ourselves out there?” You gesture towards the gym’s makeshift dance floor; the band has just started playing Journey’s “Faithfully.” Eddie’s nods, following you to an empty space, and you timidly drape your arms over his shoulders. Taking care to avoid an inappropriate touch, he rests his palms on the small of your back.

His voice is low when he murmurs in your ear, “you look really beautiful tonight.” He clears his throat and speaks again. “You always look really beautiful, though.”

The two of you sway to the music, swapping shy smiles and fleeting but longing glances. As the song ends, you look over your shoulder. “We’re being spied on,” you report, noting the way the two younger kids are watching you from across the room. You consider your next words before eventually deciding to go for it: “Did you talk to Lucas about me as much as I talked to Max about you?”

“Probably more,” Eddie laughs, bringing you a bit closer. “But I’m interested in comparing notes.”

You nod, staving off any lingering nerves. “Maybe after the dance, we can split a burger from Benny’s and discuss?”

Eddie presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Yeah,” he says; you can feel his lips move against your skin, “I’d like that.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things

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wombywoo · 7 months

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Ok! I've finally decided to put together a (somewhat) comprehensive tutorial on my latest art~

Please enjoy this little step-by-step 💁‍♀️

First things first--references!

Now I'm not saying you have to go overboard, but I always find that this is a crucial starting point in any art piece I intend on making. Especially if you're a detail freak like me and want to make it as realistic as possible 🙃

As such, your web browser should look like this at any given point:

Since this is a historical piece, it means hours upon hours of meaningless research just to see what color the socks are, but...again. that isn't, strictly, necessary 😅

Once I've compiled all my lovely ref pics, I usually dump them into a big-ass collage ⬇️

(I will end up not using half of these, alas :'D)

Another reference search for background material, and getting to showcase our models of choice for this occasion~

When picking a reference for an actor or model, the main thing I keep in mind (besides prettiness 🤭) is lighting and orientation. Because I already kinda know what pose I'm gonna go with for this piece, I can look for specific angles that might fit the criteria. I should mention that I am a reference hound, and my current COD actor ref folder looks like this:

Also keep in mind, if you're using a ref that you need to flip, make sure you adjust accordingly. This especially applies to clothing, as certain things like pants zippers and belt buckles can be quite specific ☝️

Now that we've spent countless hours googling, it's time to start with a rough sketch:

It doesn't have to be pretty, folks, just a basic guideline of where you want the figures to be.

The next step is to define it more, and I know this looks like that 'how to draw an owl' meme, but I promise--getting from the loose sketch above to below is not that difficult.

Things to keep in mind are--don't go too in-depth with the details, because things are still subject to change at this point. In terms of making a suitable anatomically-correct sketch, I would suggest lots of studying. This doesn't even have to be things like figure drawing, I genuinely look at people around me for inspiration all the time. Familiarize yourself with the human form, and things like weight, proportions, posing will seem a little more feasible.

It's also important at this stage to consider your composition. Remember to flip the canvas frequently to make sure you're not leaning to one side too often. I'm sure something can be said for the spiral fibonacci stuff, which I don't really try to do on purpose, but I think keeping things like symmetry and balance in mind is a good start ✌️

Next step is just blocking in the figures. Standard. No fuss 👍

Now onto the background!

It's frankly hilarious how many people thought I was *hand-drawing* these maps and stuff 😂😂 I cannot even begin to comprehend how insanely difficult that would be. So yeah, we're just taking the lazy copy and paste way out 🤙

I almost always prepare my backgrounds first, and this is mostly to get a general color scheme off the bat. For collage work, it's really just a matter of trial and error, sticking this here, slapping this there, etc. I like to futz around with different overlay options until I've found a nice arrangement. Advice for this is just--go nuts 🤷‍♀️

Next, I add a few color adjustments. I tend to make at least 2 colors pop in an art piece, and low and behold, they usually tend to be red and blue ❤️💙There's something about warm/cool vibes, idk man..

Now we move on to coloring the figures. This is just a basic block and fill, not really defining any of the details yet.

Next, we add some cursory values. Sloppy airbrush works fine, it'll look better soon I promise 🙏

And now--rendering!

I know a lot of beginner artists are intimidated by rendering, and I can totally understand why. It's just one of those things you have to commit to 💪

I've decided to show a brief process of rendering our dear Johnny's face here:

Starting off, I usually rely on the trusty airbrush just to get some color values going. Note--I've kept my sketch layer on top, but feel free to turn it on and off as you work, so as to not be too bound to the sketch. For now, it's just a guideline.

This next stage may look like a huge jump, but it's really just adding more to the foundation. I try to think of it like putting on make-up in a way~ Adding contours, accentuating highlights. This is also where I start adding in more saturation, especially around areas such as ears, nose and lips. Still a bit fuzzy at this point, but that's why we keep adding to it 💪

A boy has appeared! See--now I've removed most of the line layer, and it holds up on its own. I'll admit that in order to achieve this realistic style, you'll need lots and lots of practice and skill, which shouldn't be discouraging! Just motivate yourself with the prospect of getting to look at pretty men for countless hours 🙆‍♀️

I'll probably do a more in-depth explanation about rendering at some point, but let's keep this rolling~

Moving forward is just a process of adding to the figures bit by bit. I do lean towards filling in each section from top to bottom, but you can feel free to pop around to certain parts that appeal to you more. I almost always do the faces first though, because if they end up sucking, I feel less guilty about scrapping it 😂 But no--I think he's pretty enough to proceed 😚

They're coming together now 🙆‍♀️ Another helpful tip--make sure you reuse color. By that, I mean--try to incorporate various colors throughout your piece, using the eyedropper tool to keep a consistent palette. I try to put in bits of red and blue where I can

Here they are fully rendered! Notice I've made a few subtle changes from the sketch, like adjusting the belt buckles because I made a mistake 😬 Hence why you shouldn't put too much stock in your initial sketch~

The next step is more of a stylistic choice, but I usually go over everything with an outline, typically in a bright color like green. Occasionally, I can just use my initial line layer, but for this, I've made a brand new, cleaner line 👍

And the final step is adjusting the color and adding some text:

Tada!! It's done!

All in all, this took me the better part of a week, but I have a lot of free time, so yeah ✌️

I hope you appreciated that little walkthrough~ I know people have been asking me how I do my art, but the truth is--I usually have no clue how to explain myself 😅 So have this half-assed tutorial~

As a bonus, here is a cute (cursed) image of Johnny without his mustache:

A baby, a literal infant child !!! who put this wee bairn on the front lines ??! 😭

Anyway! peace out ✌️

#tutorial #my art #art tutorial #since people have been asking #I remembered to save my process from this latest work~#enjoy 🙆‍♀️

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cj-the-random-artist · 9 months

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Is this comic completely silly, a little overly dramatized, and not my best work?? Yes. Did I cut a few corners and put a little less effort into making everything highly detailed than I would in a full illustration due to time restrictions and wrist pain?? Also yes. Was it worth making so I can practice making comics and drop some random thoughts onto a piece of digital paper?? Absolutely yes.

This was kind of based on a loose idea that I have that Pirates SMP and Hermitcraft Season 9 (as it's going right now) are different universes?? Like, that in the Pirates SMP universe the Hermits all got scattered so far from each other after Season 8 and Moon Big that they just... didn't start a Season 9??? And kind of just went on whatever adventures life took them on in whatever universes they ended up in???? Idk it's a kind of silly headcanon and probably completely wrong but I don't care and it doesn't have to be right or anything cuz I enjoyed making this and that's the point of this. So, silly headcanons aside, this was fun to make.

That said. Hope y'all like this little comic and my theory bit I put in here, and have a good day :D

#boatem #boatem crew #boatem crew fanart #impulsesv #impulsesv fanart #pearlescentmoon #pearlescentmoon fanart #goodtimeswithscar #goodtimeswithscar fanart #mumbo jumbo #grian #mythical sausage #hermitcraft #pirates smp #extra long post for y'alls viewing pleasure since i used actual comic page dimensions for this for practice #also i hand drew everything including the panels because i like that hand-drawn look #this was so fun. so fun to make. so silly and fun and i truly enjoyed making it and i hope y'all like it you lovely people :D

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ceruleancattail · 4 months

Note

CERU!! HI HI :D

i have this one silly idea i think you might like!

so so, imagine you share classes with cater/jade/floyd (sitting next to them, if you will), and when they glance at your notebook, it's filled with tiny doodles, specifically them

or!! you saw their notebooks littered with doodles of you instead!

this one was when my friend found my philosophy notebook with a smol lilia in a gamer box corner lmao

take all the time you need if you decided to do this one! :D

Doodling

Cater x reader, Jade x reader, Floyd x reader

Cater

Cater finds his attention waning, occasionally. Twisting his pen around, he does his best to fight the urge to check his phone. He’s already done it five times this hour. Horrible habits die the hardest.

As sneakily as he can, Cater leans into your side, head leaning into the curve of your shoulder. His emerald eyes straying over the pages of your notebook, trying to find something to amuse himself with.

The moment you felt his gaze on you, you froze up. Hands hastily fumbling across the table, shielding the contents of your notebook from view. As quickly as you managed to react, Cater still managed to catch a tiny little glimpse of what you’ve scribbled onto those lined pages.

Little doodles of… him? Cute tiny drawings doodled onto the very edges of your notes, surrounded with miniature diamonds and quite a number of rosy red hearts.

Immediately, Cater turned away. Covering the lower half of his face with his palm, in an attempt to hold back his squeals of excitement. That’s just so cute of you!

Do you have any more? He’ll love to see them! Cater’s immediately wiggling a little closer to your side, poking at your notebook until you let him flip through the pages.

Aw, why are you embarrassed? You make him look totally adorable in those doodles!

Cater tries to draw a little sketch of his own right next to one of yours. A little doodle of you, standing right next to him. If you ask him why, he’s just going to chuckle and shoot you a playful grin. Avoiding the question the best way he knows how.

The truth is?

He just doesn’t feel right if you’re not next to him, so just indulge him this time, ok?

Jade

Jade is quiet. Almost silent, even. With his slender frame, he cuts through water with all the elegance of a finely honed blade. Silent, deadly. Even on land, his footfalls are as soft as freshly fallen snow. You’ll never hear him coming.

Which unfortunately works against you most of the time. He seems to relish the feeling of shocking you back to the present, whenever your attention starts to wander. Normally, you’ll hear him snigger, or if he’s feeling a little more teasing that day, the sensation of his ice cold fingers, tracing down the nape of your neck.

Today, it was the latter. As you yelp, reaching for the back of your neck, Jade is silent. His attention currently fixed onto the open notebook on your table, pages fluttering, beckoning him closer.

Gingerly, his fingers reach for the pages. Tracing every stroke on the paper, especially that particularly long stroke of hair framing the subject’s face.

It’s him. In every page.

Little doodles of Jade in the corners, peeking out from every margin. Drawings of him, in the midst of doing various tasks around the Mostro Lounge, along with some particular goofy ones accompanied by giant mushrooms… and hearts. Quite a number of them, actually.

The latest drawing is of him facing forward in class. Eyes narrowed in concentration, chin on his palm. How utterly adorable of you, to capture every single detail of his appearance within a few strokes. You must observe him very dearly.

Jade turns his full attention to you, leaning so much more closer to you than before. His lips curl up into a sly little smile, beaming at you. Now, you don’t have to be so secretive about it, you little artist.

You know he’s always more then willing to pose for drawings.

Well, only if you’re the only asking.

Floyd

Floyd shifts around quite a bit, during class. Normally, you’re pretty eager to chat away with him. Unfortunately, today you seemed a little more preoccupied listening to the lesson instead of Floyd.

Now, what fun is that? He’s so bored just sitting around. Well, you being next to him helps, but come on! You’re not even paying him one bit of attention. Instead you were hunched over the table, pen scribbling away furiously.

Floyd stares at your hand as it moves around, his own hand absentmindedly following suit. While his dance danced in circles in the air, Floyd muses silently. It’s hard to see how those sweeping wide strokes of yours could possibly form words.

Leaning towards you, Floyd dips his head onto your shoulder. Curling his lips into an “o”, before puffing a gust of wind onto the skin of your bare neck. Shuddering at the sudden chill, your pen clatters against the table.

Seizing his chance, Floyd’s hand darts over. Those slender fingers of his wrapping around the pages of your book, yanking it sharply to his side.

Leisurely, Floyd flips the book open. Ready to see what his lil’ shrimpy seemed ever so eager to hide.

Sketches of… him. Toothy grin as bright as the sun, beaming away. Y’know, most people find his smile scary. Not… as endearingly as you seem to see it, illustrating it as sweetly as you did.

You drew him zooming around the Night Raven College, leaping into antic after antic. Little hearts follow every doodle, trailing after tiny Floyd. Ain’t that cute?

Aw, shrimpy! You never told him you could draw. That isn’t too fair, yeah? Hogging all the fun to yourself, sketching him on the sly.

Floyd’s elbowing you playfully, stretching out an upturned palm towards you. Huh? What’s that look for?

Give him a pen, he wants to draw you too!

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #cater x reader #cater diamond x reader #cater diamond #cater #Jade leech #jade x reader #jade leech x reader #jade #Floyd leech #Floyd leech x reader #Floyd #Floyd x reader #lucky potion 🔷

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beenbaanbuun · 1 month

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Haiii this might be a weird request but I wonder if you could write an angsty Addams!MATZ fic 😭 so sorry if this is weird I've just been feeling really angsty! You can choose whatever happens lol I just wanna cry 🫶🏽

sorry i didn’t write this sooner!!! i really wanted to but i’ve been super busy over the past few days :(( i never feel super confident writing angst but i did my best!!! i hope you enjoy :D

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hongjoong yelled at you… hongjoong never yells. he doesn’t yell when yeosang is being difficult to train or just acting downright feral. he doesn’t yell when clients are being cheeky and asking for far too much. he doesn’t even yell when you’re being a brat and he slips into ‘dom mode’ to punish you. yet he yelled at you just a few minutes ago…

why?

it’s your fault, you tell yourself. if you’d just listened when he told you he was busy, none of this would’ve happened. he was already stressed so why did you think being a brat and pushing his buttons would be a good idea? of course he wouldn’t want to deal with you when he already so much else on his plate with work. it was dumb of you to even think he’d give you the time of day.

you try and keep your tears to a minimum as you stalk through the house. noisy crying would only be another distraction to hongjoong and you don’t want to upset him any more than you already have done. still, despite your best attempts, you can help the shuddered breathing and quiet sniffles as you make your way down the stairs and towards your favourite spot in the house.

the fire is already crackling, drawing you in like the pied piper. you can hear the hushed conversation behind the soft crepitation, but you ignore it, entirely too focussed on how nice it will be to flop onto your favourite rug and fall into a slumber. perhaps when you wake, everything will be fine. maybe hongjoong won’t be mad at you anymore. he’ll smile at you as he tells you you’re forgiven, placing a kiss to your forehead, and then your nose, and then your lips. he’ll take you up into his arms and apologise for yelling, speaking to you in the softest, most gentle voice he can muster. it’s a nice thought…

you reach the doorway to the living room, staring up at the large, oak arch that reaches high above your head. it’s carved with intricate details all hand finished by their artist friend, yunho. most of it represents their respective histories, each of their tales beginning from the bottom of the arch and climbing the wood like vines until they reach the apex at the top. prior to your arrival, their wedding had been the carving at apex of the arch, the image of two ravens, each holding a ring within their beaks, sat proudly above everything else.

now, though, the image at the top is entirely different. a lamb with dove wings and a dainty collar around its neck. the ravens still sit proudly on either side of the creature, watching over it as it sleeps. as you stare at it, you can’t help but wonder whether hongjoong will still be upset with you come bedtime. there’s a spare room down the hall that you used to sleep in when you were nothing more than their sugar baby and it was too late for them to send you home alone. perhaps you’ll have to reside in that room tonight, cold and alone and unable to sleep without the warmth of your lovers on either side of you. the thought has you biting your lip to silence a sob.

it doesn’t quite work. you still involuntarily whimper, catching the attention of both seonghwa and yeosang. their hushed conversation halts to a stop as they see you at the doorway, eyes wide and wet as you stare up at the very tippy-top of the arch. your fingers tangle themselves up as they helplessly fiddle with one another, tugging and twisting and picking until blood begins to pool along one of your nail beds. seonghwa can’t recall a time he’s ever seen you like this, and there werewolf had certainly never. they share a wary look.

“my darling lamb,” seonghwa calls to you in a hushed voice. he doesn’t want to startle you by being too loud, but he needs to pull you from this anxious haze you’d found yourself trapped in. he can’t lie that he’s a little relieved when your red ringed eyes flicker over to meet his. smiling is the last thing he wants to do upon seeing you in this state, but he knows his gentle disposition will calm you; it always does. his lips curl up softly. “what happened?”

the werewolf that has taken up residence on your favourite rug watches with concerned eyes. ever since his arrival, you’ve been an annoying little shit. an absolute thorn in his side when he wanted nothing more than to have a peaceful existence in his new home. you have no respect for personal space, you never know when to shut up, and you’re always way too cheerful all the time. they were facts that yeosang just had to accept when he realised you weren’t threatened by his harsh growling and gnashing teeth. all those times he had you pinned to the floor, spit spraying as he warned you to leave him the fuck alone only to have you giggle in his face and call him pretty; that person is nowhere to be seen right now.

“pup?” he hums, deep voice grumbling as his worries work themselves into his tone. even though he quite thoroughly despised you on his entry to the house, it seems you have this magical ability to work your way into the hearts of anyone you set your sights on. you set your sights on him before you even knew him; it took you no time at all to become one of his top priorities. “tell us what’s the matter. we can’t help unless we know?”

you take a few tentative steps into the room, bare feet tapping lightly against the parquet floor. they’re so used to your thundering footsteps as you traverse the house at your excitable pace. the silent footsteps you take towards them make their skin crawl.

you reach the rug, gently lowering yourself until your bare thighs hit the soft fur. your pastel blue skirt—the one that seonghwa had picked out to match the werewolf’s fuzzy blue jumper—bunches up around your waist, but neither of them have the time to admire how perfectly slutty it looked. it hardly seems right when you continue to wordlessly snivel and whimper, not even bothering to lay yourself down alongside your favourite werewolf-shaped pillow.

“hongjoong was mean to me,” you whimper, and seonghwa can’t lie, it confuses him.

hongjoong is mean to you a lot. it’s how he punishes you for being a brat, bullying you into submission until you decide to be a good girl. he calls you names, pushes you around a little—it’s nothing too severe but still enough for him to have earned the reputation as the crueler of the two of them. for a second, seonghwa thinks he’s landed on the answer, you must’ve been a little too bratty and couldn’t handle the consequences…

but that still doesn’t make sense.

if you couldn’t handle the consequences then that must’ve meant you weren’t in the right headspace to be punished. that in itself is nothing new, although normally, you tend to realise that before you decide to go and act out. it could’ve been the case that you didn’t realise you weren’t feeling up for a punishment but then you should’ve used your safeword. the fact that you’re sat downstairs with him and yeosang and not snuggled up in hongjoong’s arms is testament to the fact that you can’t have done that either. his husband would never do something so utterly stupid as to let you out of his sight when you’re clearly still upset over a scene you stopped.

so what happened?

did you just force yourself to take a punishment you didn’t want? no. seonghwa knows you’re too smart to do that just like he knows his husband is too observant not to notice. it’s something else entirely. something that seonghwa just can’t put his finger on.

“i need a little more information than that, darling,” seonghwa coos as he leans forwards to rest his elbows on his lap. his chin sits prettily in the palms of one hand, the other coming to rest atop your head. he pets you a few times, his touch like a cloud as tries to soothe you. your shoulders relax a touch, but your fingers still pick at one another in your lap. seeing you in such a state makes his heart sink. “lamb, what exactly did hongjoong do to make you so upset?”

you sniffle, separating your hands for just a second to wipe your tears away. they fall right back onto your lap, twisting and tugging and smearing the blood around. seonghwa can’t help but be thankful that nothing in the house is pale enough to be stained by your blood; otherwise he’d be marching you the bathroom to wash your hands, begging you to tell him what happened as the two of you walk.

“he yelled at me,” you say simply, as if that would answer all of seonghwa’s questions. it doesn’t. in fact it only fills his mind with more.

“he yelled? as in he raised his voice?” seonghwa asks softly. he hopes that the answer is no; that you just mean that hongjoong has scolded you for something. it’s a little bit of a strong reaction for just a small telling off, but you have been known to take these sorts of things to heart.

but you nod, and seonghwa’s heart sinks. hongjoong never yells at anyone, let alone you, his little dove. seonghwa and yeosang pass an odd look between them.

“master yelled at you?” the werewolf hums as he shuffles his body closer to yours. an arm wraps around your waist and effortlessly tugs you until you’re lay flat against the rug alongside the pretty creature. he lays the hand atop your own, stopping you from doing any more damage to your nail beds. the blood that spills onto his hands is nothing that bothers him. “why would master do that?”

the question is more aimed towards seonghwa than it is you. as close as you are with the couple, it’s only really seonghwa that knows the inner workings of his husbands brain. he always has an explanation to everything hongjoong does…

“i don’t know,” he says, a frown taking over his beautiful features. you hate it because you know it’s your fault. you upset hongjoong, you got yelled at, you told seonghwa, and now you have upset him. every sign points to you…

“it’s my fault,” you whisper. yeosang’s arm tightens around your waist in an instinctive display of protection. from what, he isn’t too sure. “i just wanted him to take a break but he’s too busy right now. i should’ve known.”

of course. seonghwa could’ve guessed it would be down to stress. it’s been a rough few weeks for hongjoong, the stress of yeosang arriving and finding his way into their weird, mismatched family, mixed with an increase in customers with the jewellery business, it’s safe to say hongjoong had barely had a moment free. of course, yeosang has calmed a little by now, but that doesn’t take the stress of the business away from his poor husband. he’s still being worked half to death by demanding clients who have more money than sense.

seonghwa imagines that any moment now, his husband will come to his senses and see that you were just trying to do something nice. that you weren’t just being difficult for the sake of it—which, granted, you often are—but were instead just trying to take care of him. you lacked the grace and finesse that the two of them did, but you still tried. demons, it fills his heart with love to know that you desire to care for them in the same way they care about you. you’re such a precious little lamb for them; they must’ve done something very special in their past life to deserve you.

“oh, my lamb,” seonghwa mumbles through a soft smile, “you have nothing to blame yourself for except being at the mercy of your own empathy. you prodded him because you were worried and that’s very thoughtful of you. your daddy should be worshipping you for such a kind act. i’ll go and see if i can’t talk some sense into him, hm?”

he stands up, long flowing trousers pooling gracefully over his feet. his red nails dance along them as he straightens the material out, trying to iron out the creases with only his bare hands.

“i’ll be back soon,” he hums, “let your puppy take care of you for now.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #matz x reader #yeosang x reader #opposites attract universe #poly ateez #poly ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader

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luminiamore · 2 months

Text

ghostface armin arlert x black witch reader

warnings: minnie is psycho & stalker ish, murder (not reader), possessive, mention of branding, minnie has a big d!ck!

a/n: i just wanna say that scenario is crazy, but it’s armin!!!

masterlist

New York City, renowned as the place where dreams come true, the city that never sleeps, but also, unfortunately, the city where danger lurks. Recent events have shaken the East Side with a series of gruesome murders, each marked by the presence of a Ghostface mask. Residents, be vigilant: lock your doors, stay armed, and avoid deserted alleyways. Let’s unite to ensure the safety of our beloved city.

Armin remained indifferent as he listened to the static emanating from the car radio, his expression unmoved. Tsk. As if that would save them. On that dark night, a vast moon cast its glow across the sky. A faint swoosh of cold water could be heard from the harbor directly beneath the Brooklyn Bridge. The cream-colored 1957 Chevrolet Bel-Air he had stolen roughly 20 minutes earlier emitted a creaking sound before finally coming to a stop.

He forcefully shut the fragile car door before moving deliberately to the other side. With swift motion, he dragged the unconscious, thin man, securely bound in the passenger seat, onto the freshly laid cement pavement. Two sharp punches to the face jolted the man awake.

“Damn it!” The man grimaced, holding his now bloody nose. “Listen, I’ve got about a grand in my wallet. Just take it! Please, I haven’t done anything!” Armin listened to the desperate pleas, his oceanic eyes rolling in irritation. He contemplated shutting the man up with another punch. With a sigh, he grabbed him by the collar and dragged him towards the edge of the dock.

“D’you want to know why you’re here?” Armin coolly asks, unfazed by the tears the man started dropping. His patience was wearing thin; just looking at his face made him itch to kill him.

“N-no! Please, I just started college! I have-” Armin lands another punch on his jaw, a resounding crack at his sheer force echoing across the empty dock. The man groans as his eyes twitch slowly, open and close. Armin crouches down, bringing himself to eye level with the man on the ground, his gaze fixed on the screwed-up, bloodied, frowned face.

“Does the name Y/n L/n ring a bell to you? You wouldn’t like the outcome if you lie, so try not to.” He asks yet another question with a flat face. The man looks up with a shaky breath; in fact, his entire body is shaking. He nods, trembling.

Armin gives a hum, “I thought it did. Do you remember the interaction with her just yesterday?” He calmly tuts, tilting the man’s semi-dislocated jaw as if examining him.

“L-Listen-” The man gets cut off again with a forceful grip on the same jaw. He cries out at the pain.

“Think about your next words, Porco.” His voice deepens by an octave, and Armin’s demeanor is noticeably less composed this time, his anger slipping beyond his control.

“I was high out of my mind, man! I don’t- I don’t remember anything!” The dirty blonde-haired man sobs. He was petrified for his life. Tonight, Armin wasn’t even adopting his other persona, Ghostface; he was acting solely as himself. He didn’t want the police to suspect —what could he even call her?

The woman he stalks every day? The woman he kills for?The woman who causes him to beat his dick red every night at just her aroma? The woman he craved incessantly, day in and day out? The woman he’s in love with?

“No? That’s okay, I’d love to refresh your memory.” The moment Porco gazes up in desperation, his breath catches at the sight of a knife—the same knife he had seen on TV after the news reporter detailed yet another gruesome murder by the man in a ghost mask. Am I about to die? That same thought again and again was at the forefront of his mind; it was a broken record.

“You approached her pretty arrogantly, might I add. You tried to take her home, but naturally, she denied. You got upset,” Armin drags the knife slowly against the blue vein on his neck. Lightly grazing, barely applying any pressure to make a mark. He draws closer to the petrified man.

“You touched her.” He seethes. “But my girl is strong and pretty special, too. So, she handled you. I’m sure you remember that, there’s the bruise right here to prove it.” He applies pressure with the tip of the knife to a purple bruise on the left side of his throat. A slow trickle of blood falls down the inside of Porco’s shirt.

“S-She already made me apologize, man. I don’t k-know how many times I can say sorry-” The sound of gurgling pierced the stillness. Armin, tired of listening, drove the infamous Bowie Knife into the man’s neck, then glanced to the side.

The man feebly tried to grab Armin’s arm; he was nowhere near stronger, though, and once Armin twisted the knife, the struggle abruptly stopped. He pushed the knife deeper. Porco, too deeply penetrated, fell limp on the ground.

Armin paused, taking out his phone to check the time. ‘10:47’ Shit. It was almost time to check on his girl. He still had one more kill left before he saw her again tonight. He swiftly pulled out the knife from the dead man’s neck and kicked him right into the freezing water below. This was one kill he didn’t want Ghostface to be responsible for.

This next kill, though, he did. He strolled over to the classic car, retrieved the black hood and cloak with jagged edges, and draped it over himself. The ghost mask rested on the leather seats, its eyes fixed on him under the moonlight. With a slight smirk on his pink lips, he picked it up and disappeared into the night.

Quite to the contrary, New York wasn’t your birthplace. Your parents were esteemed practitioners of witchcraft in Cap Haitian, Haiti, renowned for their formidable abilities throughout the country. However, their prominence also drew numerous adversaries. When you were born, they resolved to shield you from the harsh realities of their world and allow you a childhood free from the burdens of survival. Thus, they made the decision to move to the mystical city of New Orleans.

There, they taught you their practices. Every day was dedicated to honing your powers, relentlessly training until you surpassed both of them following their passing. Despite possessing the ability to prolong their lives, your parents chose to embrace their human existence and concluded that their time on Earth had reached its fulfillment.

The pain was too bearing for you, and so you decided to move to The Big Apple. Impulsive decision on your part, really; you just wanted to get away. But your life in New York proved to be incredibly peaceful, your only concerns being your powers and the three cats you lived with.

It started off being peaceful, but your beauty unfortunately came with repercussions, too. With senses finely attuned, you remained acutely aware of your surroundings, quickly detecting a figure shadowing your every move. At first, you believed he was stalking you with intentions of abduction, and though you suspected he was a killer, three months passed without him making any advances towards you.

It was a game. You noticed him watching you closely, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was aware of your awareness as well. Armin knew you wouldn’t address him first, and he was fine with just stalking you. But Armin was just a man. A man who got captivated by your beauty every time he saw you. A man who noticed that killing everyone who approached you would be a never-ending task. A man who made the consecutive decision to claim you instead.

Claims come in different forms, Armin knew that. He could brand you, permanently etching his name into your body so you knew you were his. He could mark you, letting the world know he was the only one who had the pleasure of painting your skin like a canvas. His favorite idea so far was to dump his seed past your pretty brown pussy lips daily.

Would you let him? Who were you kidding? You were aware of someone monitoring your movements nearly around the clock, yet you still chose to wet your sheets almost every week with the help of your Rose toy. He’ll make sure to punish you for that. The only time he ever wanted you to come was with him. You even leave your windows open as if inviting him to perform such a task. He knows you’re not stupid; your actions had a purpose.

You sat on your silk cream sheets, arranging your supplies and ingredients for another round of setting up a protection spell. The lavender and rose sage aroma filled the air, leaving a potent scent of smoke in the background. You were genuinely fatigued from constantly performing various iterations of the same spell each day. Why weren’t they working?

Black salt, Rosemary, Cinnamon, Bay Leaves, Mint, and Sage ashes. With the black salt, you draw a circle around you and light tall black candles in the dim light of your room. You start chanting.

Elements of the moon,

Elements of the night,

Come this way

And grant me with your might.

Powers of night and day,

I summon thee,

I call upon thee,

To protect me.

So shall it be.

The flames coming from the candle become stronger, whooshing rapidly. An unseen gust extinguishes the flames and sends the sand you placed around you swirling into the air. Huh? That wasn’t supposed to happen. That shouldn’t have happened. Why the fuck did that happen?

As rustling outside your window catches your attention, you glance sharply but see nothing. Returning your focus to your sacred space, you raise your hand, ready to relight the candles, only to be halted by a gentle yet commanding voice.

“You look pretty tonight, Y/n,” Armin catches your attention as he stands from behind your closet door. You had yet to spot him. You understood the importance of maintaining composure and clarity in moments like these. The awareness of being followed had long been present, ever since it began. The protective spells were intended to deter him, yet frustration mounted as they proved ineffective against his persistence.

Armin wasn’t really thinking of any of that; rather, he fixated on how the red robe you wore accentuated the curves of your ample chest. The way you knelt emphasized the softness of your thighs, he wanted to drown in between them.

“Come out. You’ve stalked me enough,” Your honeyed voice calls out. You survey the room, your gaze shifting from the cabinet housing your altar to your queen-sized bed and then to the wooden door of your walk-in closet. Your gaze settled on there a few seconds longer before shifting away.

You hear a small chuckle, and your frown only deepens, “The fuck is funny?” You’re about to get up from your position on your carpeted floor, only to be stopped by a large hand on your shoulder. When did he even move? Armin sits on the edge of your bed, eyes taking in every inch of you. When he firmly presses down to keep you still, your breath hitches.

You sense his presence drawing closer, the fabric of your silk robe brushing against him. Though you didn’t know what he looked like, his energy alone had you on the verge of surrender, prepared to relinquish control of your mind to him. You always knew you weren’t normal. After all, you are a witch. Getting sticky from a man that smelled like Baccarat Rouge 540 and commanded attention from just aura alone, though? That was beyond you.

“Relax, love.” He whispered gently in your ear, as if not to scare you. You were anything but. Your nerves were racking up in a different way, and small tears of sweat were forming on the inside of your pressed thighs. You had no panties on, and when Armin leaned down into the crook of your neck to smell you, his eyes caught sight of this.

“E-excuse me? Nigga if you don’t-” You continued to resist and shuffle out of his grip, and Armin understood the reason behind it. Your pride stood as a barrier to your surrender, but he remained undeterred. He’ll break you soon enough.

He silenced you abruptly with a firm grip on your delicate throat. He couldn’t afford to lose his cool with you—not unless he was fucking up your insides. You weren’t in control here. And the problem was, you still thought you were.

“That’s wasn’t nice. Be nice, Y/n.” He squeezed tightly, restricting your airway a bit. You knew you weren’t normal when you felt a long trickle of your slick slip down the side of your soft brown flesh at the action.

“I want you, y’know? I think-” He pauses and sucks in a breath when he brushes his nose right against your sweet spot. You shudder. “I think I like you?” He seems confused himself, Armin really never felt this way before. He couldn’t even describe precisely what he was feeling with accuracy. Infatuation? Obsession? Devotion? He doesn’t know, but what he does know is that he would gladly offer you the world on the finest silver platter if you so desired.

“I’d like to show you. I want to give you everything I’ve been feeling for the past three months. Let me, baby.” He tilts your head in his direction, your lips a hair away from each other. When you steal a glance at his face, your slick only gets heavier. Fuck, he was pretty. His porcelain face is adorned with small dried splatters of blood, his oceanic eyes framed by long, hooded lashes, and his medium-length blond hair gently brushing against your cheeks.

This wasn’t a good idea, you knew that. Armin couldn’t share the moral compass you thinly held onto because he was just so consumed. He was entirely taken by you, believing that you might have staked a claim on him before he had the chance to do the same to you.

Any doubts and moral compass you held vanish through your half-opened window as he tenderly presses his pink lips against your full ones. Initially gentle, as if testing your response, he gradually presses harder when you offer no resistance, deepening it with intimacy.

You gasp when he squeezes your throat once more, allowing him to slip his skillful tongue into yours. The force of his kiss caused you to moan out in slight desperation. He smiles at this without pulling away from your addictive lips. He presses into you even more.

The way you gave in so easily felt completely out of your will, this wasn’t like you. You usually had more self-control, but before you even caught a glance at this man, he had you captivated. There was something about him, the mystery he held, the danger that clinched onto him just by breathing. It made you curious, eager to know more about the man who didn’t bother to hide his intense desire for you. And you alone.

Armin had a reputation for his patience, remaining consistently composed and collected. But, you and your perfect face had a way of unsettling him, causing him to act out of character with every move you made. He was keenly aware of this, finding himself compelled to do things for you that he had never considered doing for anyone else. Tonight, he learned that patience might not be his strong suit anymore.

Your skin felt like it was being electrified as his right hand traced a slow path down your body. Starting from your neck, trailing down to the center of your chest, and finally arriving at the fat of your pussy. You almost instantly grind against his middle finger, wanting him to do more.

He noticed of course, he noticed everything about you. “I want you to beg, baby. Can you do that for me?” His whisper makes you shake in anticipation. You were wet, dripping all over the fabric of your carpet.

“P-Please-” You abruptly cut your whimpers off, realizing something that had completely slipped your mind: you didn’t even know his name. You snapped back into reality in a split second, struck by this realization.

Once more, he noticed. “It’s Armin. Moan it real pretty for me, kay?” The way he knew what you were thinking made you less hesitant to give him what he wanted you. What made your control slip was when he slid his finger down to the top of your sopping clit and rubbed lightly, enough pressure to make you squirm. He liked teasing you.

“S-Stop teasing- Ah!” He shuts you up when he presses two fingers harder, his rubbing making tight circles. Your breathing starts getting heavier at the bliss he’s making you feel.

The blonde asshole only smugly tutted at you, “What was that? I didn’t hear you beg, Y/n. Come on, you’re a smart girl.”

He was teasing as if his heart wasn’t beating outside of his chest, just being this close to you. He was internally scrambling at how your slick was so much it fell off his fingers. He wanted to taste you. He wanted you to beg so he could taste you.

You would’ve kept quiet, not feeding into his antics. But, he made you feel so.. good. The way his fingers rubbed up and down your slit, not quite going inside your tight walls. His rapid kisses all over your face and down your neck. The way you could feel his print, pressing heavily on your silk fabric. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Please just- Shit. T-Touch me, Min.” He groans and exhales sharply at the name your blank mind mustered. Min. You called him Min.

Without warning, Armin hoists you up from the floor and gently places you onto your ice-cold sheets. Lying on your back, your red robe barely clung to your brown skin. You were completely exposed to him, your freshly painted white toenails grazing his shoulders, your soft thighs spread so that sticky pussy was on full display for him.

You must’ve been an angel or a goddess that he’d gladly worship. He could make a religion out of loving you, you were just that enchanting. He leans into your inner thigh and presses a kiss. It burns your skin. He presses another kiss, this time on your twinkling pearl. You jolt.

Maybe teasing wasn’t the best option for him. His erection was painfully hard in his black sweats, his impatient longing hidden from you as he bucks on the edge of your bed. You were too busy choking out pitiful cries when his lips latched onto your sweet nectar. “Oh, fuck!”

You started to feel hazy, your heart pounding and your brown eyes dazed at all the attention he was giving your pussy. Your hip began to spasm and twitch when he sucked harder, teasing your creamy opening with his long finger.

“Say my name, mama. You remember it, right?” His husky plea fills the air. This time, you didn’t hesitate to let anyone within a 5-mile radius know who was eating you as if he starved himself all day just for this.

“A-Armin- Oh shit, Min! Please, more!” You sob, begging him to drench himself in you. He obliged, more than happily. He was at your disposal for the night and many more to come.

His ring and index finger find themselves nestled deep in your core. He stimulates your sensitive parts fast, quickening his pace inside of you. He relishes in the loud cry you make, latching on your pretty clit again. He knew how messy you could get, I mean look at how you were leaking. You had to be tired of changing your, no doubt, expensive sheets when you ruin them like this.

You felt a burning pressure in your gut, were you coming already? Armin answers your thoughts for you. His movements speed up, and the sounds of light smacking from how deep he was penetrating your g-spot echoed in your room. Your back tries to arch off the bed, the pleasure becoming too much for you. Armin makes you take it, pressing his large hand over the pudge your stomach made. You squeal.

“Fuckk,” Your moans get dragged out when a clear sprinkle of your cum escapes you. You were in a frenzy, the loud, lewd squishing sound of your pussy filling your ears. It was like a dam bursting, and what kept your eyes permanently in the back of your head was when he didn’t stop sucking. How could he? It was like you tasted better when you came, and Armin wasn’t a fool. He was determined to not let a single drop go to waste.

He removes himself from your lips with a resounding pop. “I’m going to fuck you now. So, don’t run.” Your eyes widen at his statement, your jaw almost dropping at his sheer size when you realize his sweats are carelessly scattered on the floor. There’s no way that’ll fit inside of you.

Armin knew what you were thinking, he surveyed the way your eyes wandered around nervously. He grasps your chin and plants a gentle peck on your slightly pouting lips, intertwining his fingers with yours to calm your nerves.

“Breathe, mama.” He softly grunts. His kisses start getting heavier, blocking you from letting out a loud scream when he pushes into your weeping walls, inch by inch. He was making sure you felt everything, every vein, as he penetrated you. He blesses your ears with a breathy moan, caught off guard by how fucking tight you are.

He had to remind himself to breathe. Your muffled moans against his lips consume him, making his entire body tremble on you. You were being pushed to your limit, and Armin only paused for a second to let you adjust before his animalistic tendencies got the best of him. He wanted to fuck you up, bad.

His hips begin to snap against your twitching legs at a desperate pace. The position he had you in was honestly mind fucking. Your thighs were firmly pressed to your chest, his hands caressing the balls of your unusually soft feet. Was everything about you so smooth? So beautiful and perfect. He answered his own question when your frantic mewls got louder. Yes.

Your pussy was dripping all over his chest, all over the fat cock rapidly pushing in and out against your cervix. Your pretty tits bounced under him, matching the forceful thrusts he fed you. They looked too... bare for his taste. He wanted you to be covered in his love marks, he wanted to make it impossible for you to remove them. He leans down, somehow pressing your shaky thighs closer to your upper body.

His wet tongue laps around your dark areolas, biting and pulling at them with his teeth until you push your hands into his hair and pull hard. Armin becomes drowsy, losing himself in the comfort your body gave him. He sucks and bites on the fat of your pretty tits, leaving behind deep purple bruises.

Was this heaven? You thought you saw the pearly gates as he continued hitting your G-spot with extreme accuracy. Every deep thrust he made you take caused you to let out helpless, euphoric shrieks. You press your hands against his rock-hard chest, running away from the pleasurable torture you are receiving.

Well, you were trying to. You’ve convinced yourself you couldn’t take it, but Armin knows you can. So, why are you playing with him?

Armin grappled your wrists, pinning them above your head, and sucked his teeth, “You don’t listen?” He heatedly addresses you, trying so hard not to fill your perfect cunt with his seed.

“Why you running, mama?” He questions you softly as if he wasn’t splitting you in half with his girth. He listens to your jumbled screams with a sly smile, pressing a delicate kiss right next to your diamond nose ring.

“I- I can’t, Ouuu shit Min! Can’t take it- Oh god!” Your sweet voice wails out. He makes a tsk sound, and to prove that you can take it, Armin reaches a hand down your stomach. Not once stopping his merciless rhythm, he rubs your engorged clit, desperate to see you cum again. You keen, and in an instant, your sweet juices spray all over him, your creamy essence coating his cock.

“See, there you go. Fuck, you wanna take my cum, pretty? Want me to fill you up?” He deeply murmurs in your neck, sucking lazily. Your body falls limp against him. He was so close, so close to showing you just how much you have an effect on him. You nod frantically, mind not even on planet Earth as he overstimulates your now bruised pussy.

“Please, Min! I-I want it!”

How can he deny when you beg him like that? When you gaze up at him with tears in your eyes, as if he’s your sole lifeline. You look at him as if he’s your deity, as though you can’t exist without him. You’re almost sure that after tonight, you can’t. His thrusts start getting sloppy, his hips stuttering as they leave a resounding slap against yours. Armin tenses and whimpers pathetically in your ear, unable to take the ecstasy your wet cunt made him feel.

He gives you everything, all his cum, all his passion, and pumps in and out of your warm hole slowly. He shudders, his eyes clouded with pure infatuation as he leans down to force you into a nasty kiss. The kiss was incredibly messy; Armin seemed to be devouring you, with saliva escaping both your mouths as he began sucking on your tongue. When he notices you sucking in heavy breaths, he pulls away from you.

Armin pulled out of you, watching as his cum overflowed out of your sobbing slit. What a sight. He flips you over, on your stomach this time. You let out a long whine when he presses your back into a deep arch. What is he doing? His following words cause your breath to catch in your throat.

“You didn’t think we were done, right? Ass up, mama.”

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chubs-deuce · 2 months

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(^it's his turn with the child but he has an overlod meeting so this is how he shows up)

I brainstormed a bunch with some friends on a server for how Dawn came to be and we had many fun ideas, some of which I'll elaborate on under the cut for anyone who wants to hear :D

Dawn was kind of created by accident! With Lute in charge of the exterminations now, Sera trying to hide Sir Pentious' redemption and her eyes opened towards heaven's doings, Emily wants to make good on her promise to help Charlie's efforts in hell. She learns through Remiel that heaven has been safekeeping Lucifer's old grimoire since he fell and decides that Charlie as his rightful heir should have it, hoping something in it would help her defend the hotel. It's written in the ancient language of the angels though, and while Charlie is able to translate it, she's by no means fluent in the language, but they find a ritual for the creation of an infinitely powerful weapon! Alastor of course is intrigued when she tells him of this and so he leverages his status as her work partner (and a powerful mage in his own right no less) to convince her to let him help attempt it. They figure out the components needed to fufil the ritual and perform it perfectly and create... a child. (this is because the definition of "weapon" can differ greatly depending on who you ask - it can be a sword, it can be ruthlessness, or it can be words, courage, hope and kindness. The ritual would therefore merely provide a blank slate for them to mold into whatever they need it to be! Charlie mistranslated slightly, since the word used in the ritual would translate more to "tool".)

Charlie and Alastor aren't (yet) romantically involved when Dawn gets created, though she does pull them together out of necessity over time. Alastor is very apprehensive about the concept and insists something must've gone wrong, but ultimately he absolutely recognizes that no matter the intended outcome, he's got a responsibility now, and decides he's at least got to be a better parent than his own father was, so he stubbornly still does what he can to raise this kid. Charlie is overwhelmed with the sudden responsibility they've both been burdened with at first - especially because she already has so many other things to worry about and take care of - but her infamous bleeding heart of course can't deny following its calling. I actually don't think her innate maternal instincts are particularly strong? Ultimately neither of them asked to be a parent and the upheaval of their personal lives that came with it, but they quickly learn to love their newest resident and how it ends up redefining and redrawing their own relationship to each other as well >:D

The newly shared responsibility for a literal child is what finally gets Alastor to cave into agreeing to acquire a phone with a camera - if only to soothe Charlie's nerves whenever she can't be there herself.

A friend from the server even wrote up a whole detailed ritual for me to visualize this whole thing and offered to help with insight on like. Heaven lore(?) and adding onto this concept if need be and I'm honestly having a blast with figuring out the details of this plot, so I might attempt writing a fic out fo this if I can solidify it all a bit better?

Either way, this is kind of escalating into a Whole Thing but I hope y'all are enjoying it nonetheless :'D

#charlastor #radiobelle #charlastor fankid #hazbin hotel #alastor #the radio demon #Alastor is the girldad of all time change my mind #hazbin hotel oc #chubs ocs #dawn morningstar #digital fanart #digital art #fanart #art #my art

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weathertheraine · 8 months

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Pirate AU!! Thank you @stringofturtles for watching OFMD S1 with me and re-igniting my Pirate Emotions so I had the motivation to finish this. The first sketches have been sitting in my files for months so please forgive the fact that they look different skdfjh.

More fleshed out AU details under the cut !! :D

- The kids are a little older than canon - the third years in their early 20s - but the story still starts with the second and third years as an established crew who then pick up the first years and the coaches.

- Daichi as a Captain is of course very much like he is in canon. He works very hard to take care of his crew and takes on a huge responsibility for providing for them (as well as making sure they don’t die in idiotic ways). Suga is First Mate so it’s his job to make sure DAICHI is okay and not worrying himself to death. He also has a good handle on morale/the emotional state of the crew.

- Asahi is the first line of offence when dealing with other ships. He doesn’t like actually hurting people, but he’s good at breaking ranks and barrelling through defences to get hold of whatever Karasuno needs. He was ‘off the team’ and out of commission for a little while after he lost his hand (not seeing combat while he was in recovery, and needing to build up his courage again). Noya played a huge part in helping him back onto his feet, and has been kind of protective ever since.

- Noya’s job is to make sure the ship isn’t boarded, so he very rarely leaves it.

- Ennoshita and Kiyoko work together as navigators and managing the little money the crew has. Ennoshita is the only crew member in the beginning who can kind-of read (Kiyoko can only read a little), and they work a lot with maps and planning out journeys.

- Tanaka is great at intimidating opponents. His eyepatch is totally for show - he thinks it makes him look cooler and scarier. His parrot doesn’t often co-operate with him.

- Narita and Kinoshita take care of maintenance and supplies and making sure there isn’t gunpowder anywhere there shouldn’t be, as well as things like fraying rigging and rotting boards/canons secure and the like. Of course, things like that are everyone’s responsibility, but these two consider is theirs particularly. It’s thankless work but the boat would definitely have burned down by now if not for them.

- Enter the first years!

- Kageyama is a prodigy swordsman with a huge reputation as a lethal pirate, although most people who spread those rumours don’t realise he’s as young as he is. He was marooned by his previous crew for being a controlling Captain (who should never have been captain in the first place, having only his fighting talent as the real reason).

- Hinata recently ran away from home to “become a pirate” without much of an idea what that actually entailed, and ran into Kageyama without knowing his reputation. All he knew was that this guy was incredible fighter, and he demanded that he teach him to fight! He now won’t leave him alone.

- Tsukishima ran away as a very young child in an attempt to find Akiteru, whose sailing ship was attacked and lost at sea. He fell in with pirates along with Yamaguchi (who was picked up after surviving a shipwreck), and the pair ended up sticking together as they bounced from ship to ship, ready to run whenever it seemed like tensions were getting high. They (read: tsukki) are going to need to break this habit, if they’re going to be a real part of this new crew.

- Tsukishima and Yamaguchi can’t sleep if they’re not in the same hammock. Embarrassing. The reason Yamaguchi was so tiny as a little kid is that he didn’t get enough food. Tsukishima still tries to sneak him extra (and gets in trouble with Daichi).

- Tadashi ends up as a sharpshooter, one of the few kids who’s confident using a pistol

- Hinata and Kageyama spar together all the time. It’s GOING to end in a make-out the first time Hinata successfully beats him.

- Neither of them have noticed that Tanaka’s eyepatch switches sides.

- Yachi is picked up when the crew stop in a bar in her town. She’s a better-off girl, about to be talked into an politically advantageous marriage, and desperately wants to get out of her situation. “Running away with pirates” was admittedly pretty drastic, but anything sounds like a good idea when Hinata suggests it so sincerely!!

- Ukai is a washed up older pirate, without a crew. Takeda is a very unlucky literature teacher who just happened to be on a sea voyage. They both ended up taken as hostages by the same (meaner) pirate crew, who were then stolen by the Karasuno kids. Although, it’s kind of unclear at this point whether they’re actually prisoners… They’re being treated very nicely (especially Sensei) and are in danger of getting attached…

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jayke0 · 2 months

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A Pleasant Surprise

Summary: Steven has had something on his mind for a while now, and finally he divulges his fantasy to you; degrading was certainly not on your playing cards.

Rating: nsfw, smut

Warnings/Content: sub!Steven, dom!reader, fem!reader, “mommy” title, degrading, grinding, cumming in pants, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).

Word count: 1,441

Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.

………......................…………………………………….

When Steven had come to you with a “fun idea”, you'd expected something along the lines of ”naive uni teacher gets fucked by his student”, but this was so much better.

“Love? I have a, uh…suggestion,” Steven calls from the bathroom between brushing his teeth. “Well, it's more of a proposal, really.”

“Yeah? Go on.” You're sitting in your bedroom reading some gruesome crime novel that Marc seems to have a real distaste for.

You hear the water running briefly before your boyfriend joins you in the room, warm morning sun streaming in through the cracked curtains and casting a soft glow over his face. “I mean, we don't have to do it now of course. I know you're reading and all that, and I have to get to work in a bit–.”

You close your book and pat the edge of the bed, making him instantly respond to your gesture by placing himself down. “I'm all ears, sweetheart, lay it on me.”

Blood rushes to Steven's face as he actually thinks about saying it outloud, feet shuffling a little on the creaky floorboards. The words feel stuck in his throat now that he has to speak them, despite the fact he'd thought about the whole image on numerous occasions... and in great detail.

“Heeyy c’mon,” your hand brushes his arm, and you move closer to him to wrap your arms fully around his, crinkling his blue floral shirt. “You know I can't read your mind, Steven… Though I wish I could, that'd be super fucking helpful, then the other two couldn't lie to me.”

His chuckle makes you smile and you feel him draw in a long breath.

”I wanna like… grind against you… and I want you to mock me for it, u-until I cum… in my trousers…”

The pauses between his words are almost comical, but you look up at his face and see that he's completely serious, looking at you with wide eyes and waiting for an answer.

“Oh! Right.”

“Ah, Gods! No no... no no no no no, forget it–.” He frantically shakes his head, his hands doing the same as his face scrunches. “It's weird, I'm sorry, pretend I never said anything. Me and my big bloody mouth.”

“Steven,” you say between giggles, hand resting on his soft face to pull his gaze towards you. “It's not weird, silly! I just didn't expect you to be the one that's into degrading.” Careful not to fall back off of the bed, you climb onto his lap, thighs either side of his as you examine his expression, how gorgeous he looks with his brows knitted together and his unruly curls that Marc would definitely be gluing down with copious amounts of gel right about now.

His chest deflates as he lets out a soft sigh, resting his head on your chest out of embarrassment while you link your arms around his neck to run your fingers through the long curls at the back of his head. You feel his hands graze up your back, gliding under your night shirt and making you shiver with the warmth.

“Are you sniffing me?”

“No! Well…” he pauses, “yeah, but not in a creepy way.” The man lifts his head and looks up at you with those big doe eyes, and you watch them close as you start rolling your hips down on him slowly. You're only in your underwear underneath that shirt, but Steven is fully clothed and ready for work… or at least he would be, if his eyes weren't fluttering shut and arousal wasn't growing in his tummy.

“I promise you, darling, I like your idea.” You reassure him with your hips drawing slow circles against the material of his trousers, creating a delicious friction. “As long as you tell me if it's too much, alright?”

The bed creaks a little with your grinding before he looks up at you, nodding with a kind of desperation in his eyes that lights a fire in your gut.

“You promise?”

“Yeah love, yeah I promise.” He says, his voice a little more whiny.

You don't bother yourself with working out the psychological reasons for why your boyfriend enjoys being degraded about how long he can last, chalking it up to his masculinity, despite your reassurances that he's just as much of a man as his other two alters.

“You've got 10 minutes, think you can do that?”

Steven groans at your question, since both of you know all too well that 10 minutes is more than enough time. Still, he nods, big puppy dog eyes looking up at you and begging you to divulge in his vision.

A smirk creeps across your face when you see those glassy eyes, your gaze trailing down to the blush dusting his cheeks and the straining muscles in his neck.

“God Steven, I love the way you look at me. Look at those big soft eyes, all for mommy, aren't they?”

He lets out a whimper with the use of that title, his cock stirring in his trousers and reminding you of the thin barrier that's stopping you from grinding on the rough material of his slacks all together. The man doesn't take his gaze off of you; he drinks in every one of your features as if he's seeing you for the first time.

Rocking his hips up, he pants.

“Yes mommy, all for you, I'm all for you.”

“That's right, sweetheart, those desperate eyes are for me. that dumb little face is mine.” You lean forward and nip his bottom lip, soothing it afterwards with your tongue as he gasps and bucks his hips.

“I can feel you twitching, baby. You just can't help it, can you? Always getting so worked up and hard when I'm around, maybe I should put this pretty cock in a cage, what do you think?”

Steven's shoulders drop as he leans forward into your neck, biting and sucking any skin he can get his mouth on while his hot breath and whimpers raise goosebumps over your skin.

The suction he had in your neck is broken as his head is suddenly jerked backwards, your grip tight in his hair and making him whimper pathetically.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

His adam's apple bobs in his throat as he tries to suppress his moans, his head nodding wildly. “Yes mommy, I'd– agh–I'd love that.” His hips buck again.

“Mhm.. then you'd at least last longer than 5 minutes, you'd actually be able to fuck me properly.”

Steven's mouth hangs agape, his eyes now squeezed shut as his grip on your hips tighten and he guides your hips down on him harder, wanting more, anything.

“Sh–it… Ah- Feels so good.” His eyebrows knit together in a beautifully strained way. “More, gimme more–.”

You tut with a small smirk on your lips, rocking back and forth to coat his trousers in your own arousal that's seeped through your underwear.

“Oh, look at you, you gonna cum in your pants, baby? Gonna prove how pathetic you are to mommy?” You feel the muscles in his shoulders and back tighten. “C'mon sweetheart, cum for me, ruin those pants.”

Sweet moans and whimpers tumble from the man's rosy lips as he finally lets go, staining his boxers enough that you feel the wetness as it soaks a spot on his trouser leg.

His grip on your hips loosens, but he doesn't stop whimpering, soft babbles and huffs escaping his throat as he calms down. You stroke his head, combing your fingers through his hair as your hips slow. “Good boy, you're such a good boy, Steven.” You smile brightly at him, despite the fact his eyes are still shut.

They only flutter open when he feels your hand stroking his cheek and tilting his head down.

“Are you ok, baby? How do you feel?”

His cheeks are flushed bright red still, beads of sweat sitting on his forehead from the warmth of his button-up shirt. A smile cracks across his face as he nods shyly, “I'm ok– great, yeah.. I'm great, actually.”

“You sure? I didn't hurt your feelings, did I?”

He shakes his head and tilts face to kiss your palm. “No, you didn't, love. I promise.”

His eyes drift down to the wet patch on his trousers, your eyes following as you chuckle softly.

“Should probably change…” He mumbles while resting his head on your shoulder.

“Yeah, that's probably a good idea.” You place a kiss on his neck as you embrace him, ignoring the fact that he will most definitely be late to work… again.

...........................................................................

Tags 🖤: @boredzillenial @cowboymarcs @chichimisaki @faretheeoscar @fanofstuffidk @minigirl87 @marisferasiop @red-hydra @summonthesoups @steven-grants-world @queerponcho @ominoose @mynamesstevenwithav @rinverse @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mooksmouse @cupidysm

#moon knight #moon knight system #moon boys #steven grant #moon knight smut #steven grant smut #oscar isaac characters #steven grant x reader

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