Megumi looks so soft in this omg ( ´▽`)
Hes so cute!!!!!!!!!!!! I want to devour him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I've been resource gathering for YEARS so now I am going to share my dragons hoard
Floorplanner. Design and furnish a house for you to use for having a consistent background in your comic or anything! Free, you need an account, easy to use, and you can save multiple houses.
Comparing Heights. Input the heights of characters to see what the different is between them. Great for keeping consistency. Free.
Magma. Draw online with friends in real time. Great for practice or hanging out. Free, paid plan available, account preferred.
Smithsonian Open Access. Loads of free images. Free.
SketchDaily. Lots of pose references, massive library, is set on a timer so you can practice quick figure drawing. Free.
SculptGL. A sculpting tool which I am yet to master, but you should be able to make whatever 3d object you like with it. free.
Pexels. Free stock images. And the search engine is actually pretty good at pulling up what you want.
Figurosity. Great pose references, diverse body types, lots of "how to draw" videos directly on the site, the models are 3d and you can rotate the angle, but you can't make custom poses or edit body proportions. Free, account option, paid plans available.
Line of Action. More drawing references, this one also has a focus on expressions, hands/feet, animals, landscapes. Free.
Animal Photo. You pose a 3d skull model and select an animal species, and they give you a bunch of photo references for that animal at that angle. Super handy. Free.
Height Weight Chart. You ever see an OC listed as having a certain weight but then they look Wildly different than the number suggests? Well here's a site to avoid that! It shows real people at different weights and heights to give you a better idea of what these abstract numbers all look like. Free to use.
EDIT: THE PAGE IS DOWN, thanks for helping me report!
hello! @chosodolls recently stole one of my dottore x reader fanfictions from ao3 (all 10.8k words of it), changed a few pronouns and character names and uploaded it as a sukuna x reader fanfiction on tumblr, under their own name. i had no idea until i received a comment in my ao3 from a kind anon informing me of the stolen writing. i'm genuinely appalled. 💀 i don't know what to do about this because i can't force them to take their fic down, but i'm hoping people will see this and hopefully keep an eye out?? and not consume the stolen writing, because i worked hard on it and having it stolen is genuinely enraging??
my original fic is here at https://archiveofourown.org/works/55032457 I didn't upload it on Tumblr yet because of the wordcount, but you can verify the original belongs to me if you go to my AO3 linked in my other works here and check the dates. I've written previous fics for genshin impact x reader before. Check the dates. They only uploaded today.
chosodolls retitled their fic "EAT ME DOWN TO THE MARROW! ; sukuna r", and it's glaringly obvious that it's stolen from me if you compare the writing. 😭😭
Please don't ignore this. I write my content for leisure, for free, and for people's enjoyment. I do NOT write for people to steal and reupload. You should be ashamed.
So sorry for clogging up the tags. I'm not sure how else to get this noticed. I didn't really try to gain a following or an audience or anything on Tumblr because I was merely writing for recreation in my own little corner... but that doesn't fucking mean you can steal my writing.
It's deathly ironic that chosodolls tells people not to steal their works yet stole mine??
Anyways, please take notice. Reblogging for reach would be greatly appreciated.
Minors DNI
Warning(s): NSFW, dubcon
Fem!Reader
Authors Note: First time; necessary feedback, pls! Taking requests!
It’s been about a week since you’ve moved into your new apartment. Everything about it was perfect except for one thing: you’ve explored every room but one, which was locked for some reason. (If only you had read the entire catalog ad, you would’ve understood why and that all past tenants never stayed too long). You complained about it to your landlord, who hired a locksmith free of charge, thankfully. This is what your actions have come to, sadly: you, standing before hundreds of slimy, purple tentacles, coming from all around the mystery room.
You try and back away quietly toward the door in hopes of being able to leave unnoticed. Pitifully, the floorboards creek(damn, this shitty building). The tentacles immediately move in your direction as you run for the door, only to be blocked off by more tentacles. They push you to the ground and squeeze around your arms and legs, probing at your torse.
They’re not hurting you; they seem pretty curious, actually. The tentacle's touch is soft and gentle. One tentacle stops at your face...it’s...caressing your cheek? Their touches were seemingly affectionate at first but quickly became provocative. They began to slip under your clothes, feeling you up.
Again, their touch was gentle but still violating nonetheless; they groped your breasts, sucking on your nipples and coiling around them. You try and keep as much dignity you have left, biting your lip to hold back your moans. The tentacles seem to sense your defiance and dislike it very much. They tear through your clothing, leaving only your thin panties to cover you. They curl around your thighs, spreading your legs to tease you, rubbing against your clothed cunt, and nuzzling your clit; their suckers find it and abuse the little bundle of nerves.
A blissful whine escapes your lips; you can’t remember the last time you felt this good. The tentacles stroke your body with satisfaction, assumingly rewarding you for your submission. You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second. Your sense of dignity is long gone by now; you’re a wailing mess. Hair sticking to your sweat-coated skin, tear-filled eyes rolled up into your head, and while your mouth hangs open with a bead of drool leaking from the side.
The tentacles can sense your arousal, not to mention your drenched underwear. They move your panties to the side and continue to toy with your aching pussy, stroking your wet hole and sucking on your sore clit until you cum.
The tentacles let you catch your breath, lovingly massaging your body. Soon enough, you’re suspended in the air as more tentacles hold you, creating a makeshift bed to place you comfortably. Another tentacle approaches your face again, latching itself to your mouth and pushing past your lips to curl around your tongue. Is this its way of kissing you? Is it showing affection?
It’s a bit gross, but the tentacles mean well. Your body suddenly jolts as you feel a tentacle push against your sopping hole. It uses its suckers to tease you again, but as you grind yourself against it, the tentacle penetrates you, pressing against your walls to search for your sweet spot. The tentacle in your mouth begins to thrust in and out as you feel another tentacle enter your ass. The tentacle in your pussy moves rhythmically with the others as it’s sucker hit your g-spot. At this point, your mind is nothing but mush. All you see are white spots as your legs quake under the tentacles, unable to hold yourself up longer.
The tentacles wrap around your waist and lift you. You’re now ass up, face down, and being fucked mercilessly in all three holes. You can’t take it; it’s too good, too much, too many. You feel more tentacles enter your already full holes. Doesn’t this monster know you have a limit?
It doesn’t care, really. All it wants is to see you cum, and cum, again. You can feel yourself getting dizzier after each orgasm, one after another. Before you know it, you’re waking up from your fucked out haze. The tentacles seemed to have stopped fucking your brains out a while ago; they’re all curled up around your protectively, some still inside you. You try and crawl towards the door, but you’re body is useless at this point.
The tentacles drag you back to them, curling around to massage your worn-out body. It seems you won’t be leaving this room any time soon...or ever.
...
Might as well move your stuff in here.
First fic will be with megumi ^^
I might kind of suck at writing but….. (・_・; please look forward to it.
Everyone, I've posted a new fic..!!!! ʚ₍ᐢ ›̥̥̥ ༝ ‹̥̥̥ ᐢ₎ɞ It's my first angst fic, so give it lots of love ><..
DEAD!Megumi x Grieving! Reader
summary: In the wake of Megumi's death, you're left haunted by the quiet moments you've shared, the unspoken words, and the last goodbye that never came. Clinging to the memories of a love that felt unfinished, replaying the moments you wish you could have held onto forever. Grief, in all its silence, becomes a space you learn to inhabit, where the echoes of your lost connection linger just out of reach.
WARNINGS: (mentioned) character death, depression, ANGST!!!!!!!, heartbreak
Word count : 1134 words (I thought it would be short, but i just kept going with it and here we are....)
a/n: First time writing something super angsty!!! I hope you all enjoyed it... I think I did really well! (˶˃ᆺ˂˶) ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶
You didn’t say much that morning. But that wasn’t unusual. You never did.
You stood by the door for a second longer than usual. Glanced back at me. And in your eyes—just for a moment— there was something soft. Something final.
I should’ve noticed. Should’ve asked why you weren’t wearing that fake bored look you always put on before missions. Should’ve stopped pretending I was too busy to get up and kiss you goodbye.
But I didn’t. I waved. Lazy. Distracted. Said, “Don’t die, dumbass.”
And you huffed a laugh. That almost-smile. Then turned and left.
No last words. No “I love you.” Not even a real look.
Just the soft click of the door closing.
And now I keep replaying that moment, over and over, like if I stare at it long enough, I’ll see something I missed.
A message. A sign. A warning.
But there’s nothing. Just you, fading into the morning light, shoulders squared like always, like you were walking into something you’d already accepted.
You always were like that— quiet, distant,
I know now— you were protecting me. Not just from the mission. From the goodbye.
Because if you had said anything real, anything final, I would’ve shattered right there.
But you knew me. Knew I needed to believe you'd be back. So you gave me silence. And left all the words unspoken.
Now I cling to them. The ones you never said. The look you gave me like it might’ve been enough. The quiet care folded into every goodbye you never made a big deal of.
I never got to say it back. But I hope you knew. Hope my half-wave meant please come back, and my lazy grin meant I need you, and my stupid parting words meant I love you more than I know how to say.
I hope you carried that with you. To wherever you are. Wherever you went.
Because I still carry you— in the silence. In the warmth that lingers. In the things we never said but always meant.
Some days, I still set a place for you. Not a real one. Not forks and plates. But a space—next to me, in the quiet. In the pauses between songs. In the second half of a sentence I never finish anymore.
I don’t think people vanish. Not really. You’ve just… sunk beneath the surface of everything.
You’re in the smell of summer pavement after rain. In the echo of a laugh I hear once and never again. In the way I turn, sometimes, too fast—thinking you're there. And the second after, when I remember.
You would’ve hated how soft I am now. How small I’ve gotten. I used to be louder around you. Stranger. Braver. Real.
Now I just exist. Sleep. Wake. Float.
Some days I still wonder what you were thinking. Before. When the silence started pressing too hard, when the light got too far away.
Did you know I would miss you like this? Like a phantom limb? Like an entire future collapsing in slow motion?
I still dream of you. Not as a ghost. Not as someone gone. But as you were—messy, warm, your sharp eyes, good with the dogs, awkward.
You always knew how to ruin me with a smile.
And when I wake up— when the dream folds shut like a book I never finished— there’s that moment. Where the air remembers you.
Where the world almost feels like it did before.
And I just lie there. Quiet. Staring at the ceiling like maybe you’ll come back with the morning light.
You don’t.
But I keep waking up anyway.
If I could stay in a moment… Yeah. I think I would.
But only that one. The one that slipped past like sunlight on water— brief, warm, gone before I could hold it.
It wasn’t anything special. Just your laugh, maybe. The way your voice stumbled when you were too tired to filter your thoughts. The way we both said nothing, and it still meant everything.
I replay it sometimes. That soft little second in the blur of days. You looked at me as if I were made of light. Me pretending I didn’t notice.
But I did. God, I did.
And now it’s fading.
Like all beautiful things do—too fast, too quiet, too soon.
I try to keep it. Bottle it up, hide it away, memorize the sound of it. But it slips. It always slips.
And maybe I was never meant to keep you. Maybe we were always going to be this—just a blink between lifetimes. Something bright and impossible and almost.
But still, I find myself reaching— in dreams, in quiet hours, in the soft hush of early morning— hoping, maybe, you’re doing the same.
Just for a moment. Just one.
You and me. Caught between the seconds. Still turning, still drifting, Still almost real.
I woke up like usual,
flipping to my side, and you’re still not there.
If I could’ve said something that mattered… Yeah. I think I would have.
But it all happened so fast. Too fast to hold. Too fast to save.
One minute, you were laughing like the world couldn’t touch you. And then— just air. Just a silence too big to fill.
People said it was peaceful. That you didn’t feel a thing. But I think they said that for me, not for you. Because I felt it. The echo where your voice should’ve been. The coldness in places you once warmed.
You were gone, and the sky didn’t change.
I hate that.
I hate that the world kept spinning, like you were never here at all.
But I remember.
I remember the exact shape of your presence— the way time curved when you smiled, the way your fingertips lingered a second too long, like you were always about to say goodbye but never quite did.
Maybe you knew. Maybe you knew.
And maybe I didn’t want to believe it.
Now, I go back to where you still exist— the songs we shared, the notes you left, the way your name looks written in my handwriting.
Your jacket still lingered of your scent.
Your toothbrush is still hanging in my bathroom cabinet.
It’s like you’re going to be back, but I promised myself.
I can’t keep deceiving myself with lies like those.
You’re not going to be back. Not to collect your toiletries,
And even more so not to collect the memories we’ve shared together.
And so I replay it— the moment before you left. The last laugh. The last word. The last time you looked at me like I was something worth staying for.
The world spins, but I stay still. In the memory of you. In the breath before the end. In the place where I almost kept you.
HELIOTROPES
pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments
summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.
genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part, forbidden love, slow burn.
warnings: fem!reader, age gap, lots of worldbuilding for snezhnaya & the fatui & fontaine, dottore is his own warning, angst and romance, none others that i can think of off the top of my head. each chapter will have its own warnings, it is self-ship coded, and i will take liberty with dottore’s known lore.
status: incomplete. updates sporadic, at least monthly.
taglist: 50/50 (CLOSED. if you would like to be on it, still comment here—i’m going to periodically go through and remove people who don’t interact, and then i’ll add you)
notes: sigh i wanted to give my beluved a little series. this is something i’ll be working on in my free time for fun, so updates will be sporadic, i was gonna post the reincarnation fic butttt that one is a little too dear to my heart ALL SEGMENTS THAT SHOW UP IN THIS SERIES ARE MINE ‼️ i created them, do not take them to use for yourself.
00. THE SEGMENTS
01. MIDWINTER
02. JOY
03. THE COLOR PURPLE
04. THE FAMILY JEWELS
05. AN INEXORABLE DEATH
06. RISE OF A KING, FALL OF A QUEEN
07. A WARM WELCOME
08. THE DOCTOR
09. THE TIES THAT BIND
10. GENESIS
11. DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE
12. SPIT IN MY FACE
13. ALEA IACTA EST
… TBA
SIDE STORIES
THREE TIMES THE SEGMENTS MET YOU WITHOUT REALIZING IT, AND ONE TIME THEY DID.
rbs appreciated!
marry me
gojo satoru x reader.
or, in which, due to a coincidental circumstance, gojo asks you to marry him.
"i think you ultimately become whoever would have saved you that time no one did."
"then don't save me."
based off of this drabble . everyone liked it so much that i decided to finally write it XD i hope you all enjoy !!
ch 1. tossed like a salad (coming soon!!)
as a new student of jujutsu sorcery, you are sent as a transfer student to japan to help out over there. what you didn't realize was how much stronger the cursed spirits are there...
ch 2. hyperactive new recruit
chapter summary coming soon.
ch 3. dropkicked through the ceiling
chapter summary coming soon.
taglist
@05-simply-06-simping @astraea-xx @miizuzu @passw-0-rd @hachichann @yozora7154 @myahfig4 @poepoesstuff @twinkletfout @hibsjebwj @connorsoddsock @typsichryle @ohio-gyatt-mega-sigma-rizzler @stromynight @serra10 @shehrazadekey @fos-tis-zois @miskwaadesiwag @minzxec @stickyjellyfishcoffee @driftawayomnichord @maximumuzuamy @sobbing-leave-me-alone-bots @ittoscumdump @oceanparadiseblvd @stormeye111 @noodles-icetea @seternic @livelaughloveisagiyoichi @xxsorano @akit4 @simpingismygame @username23345
Basically, I tagged everyone who asked to be & everyone who said to please make it into a fic ヽ(*´▽)ノ♪ if you didn't want to be tagged pls let me know
also, want to be tagged? then pls comment (ゝω・´★) here or on the drabble that this fic came from <3
and pls note that some people couldn't be tagged due to "no blogs found" this can be fixed in your settings (´ε` )
Pairing: magician!Reader x Tentacle Monster
Tags: Tentacle bondage; double penetration; multiple orgasms; overstimulation; occasional resistance from the reader and fucked while unconscious, therefore dubcon; tentacle blowjobs; obscene amounts of come
Reader: afab; no physical description except for what is needed in smut; is not referred to by any name
Words: 4551
Summary: Lazy afternoon summoning gone wrong right.
A/N: Reader attends an academy for magicians in this story. You can safely assume that all attendees of said academy are of age.
Yes. You should've paid more attention in your spells class. Yes, if you had taken your time and read the whole paragraph, you would've figured out that the number in that spell didn't indicate the hours the portal would last but rather how many of them there would be. And yes, if you had gone into this with a little more common sense, maybe—maybe—you wouldn't be hiding under your bed right now with a fuckton of tentacles flailing out of your bedroom floor.
But hey, no one's perfect.
Once again, you tapped your fingernails against the wooden floor—click-click-click. From here, you could merely see the base and the portal from which they spawned. But auditory sensations didn't seem to have an effect on them. Deaf tentacles.
From up above came occasional thumps. They kept bumping into stuff on the bookshelf, had already sent your moon water and one of your carnivorous plants flying to the ground (so long, Casper). So, either, they were blind, too—or they just didn't give a single fuck about manners. But you tried to be optimistic here and went with blind. That thing clearly outdid you in appendages, but you had all the senses on your side. And home court advantage. Now, all you had to do was close the portal and hope that it'd take the tentacles away with it. If not—well, that was a problem for future you.
Peering at your phone lying next to the spell book, you bit your lip. The group chat was still open. You could ask for help. But given how it had only been a month since the self-propagating slime incident and your friends were still giving you shit about it, you quickly discarded that idea. How would you even gonna explain this? Hey, so, I kinda wanted to summon a single tentacle for the weekend because it's a fucking Saturday and I'm horny and instead I got about twenty because I can't read properly when faced with the prospect of vaginal orgasms.
Yeah, no. You would be taking this to your grave.
A thud above you made you flinch. A tentacle had bumped into the headboard. How did they even work? Probably had to feel out everything in their surroundings. Touch, graze, probe. If one didn't have eyes, what else was there to do? They had to be big on warmth. On detecting surfaces, wet, dry, rough, smooth. You held your breath as you saw another tentacle slithering over the ground, inches away from your face.
The thing was: You had no fucking clue what you had summoned. Tentacles weren't that well researched, yet. It was known that they came from a different realm and that they probably had some kind of spawning point where they came together. A head, a center for their nervous system, something like that. But no one knew what their deal was. What nutrition they needed, how they procreated, why they even came to be.
A part of you—the stupid, bold part, that liked to free-style potions, annoy the professors with imaginative theses and try out new spells with no back-up or supervision—was intrigued. You could be the first one. The first one this up-close with an unresearched organism. Uncharted territory. Go where no magician has gone before.
For a brief moment, you were already seeing yourself on the front page of the local newspaper, shaking hands with the principal after having published a paper on tentacle behaviorism—and then plant number two joined Casper's remains on the ground.
Yeah, fuck that. Time to say goodbye, you little suckers.
Teeth gritted, you flipped the pages in the spell book in front of you, trying to decide on a course of action. But none of this sounded right. And you really, really didn't want to make things worse.
Something grazed the ankle of your foot. You kicked it off, hoping the spider would go about its way and leave you in peace. You had to concentrate. But seconds later, the sensation was back. Something creeped up your leg. Sliding under your sweatpants. Crawling up further and further. When you looked behind you, you saw a tentacle coming from the crack between the bed and the wall.
For a few seconds, your brain froze. You had no clue what to do. No fucking clue. Fight it off? Grab it and pull? Lie still? The thing slid up further. And further.
“Uhm—” you said, offended, like the tentacle pressing its tip against your clothed pussy was the same as someone bumping into you in the hallway. “Excuse me, I—”
Your mouth fell open. It started moving. Nuzzling. Caressing. Your hands balled into fists. Fuck. Fuck. If you had only read the whole paragraph, you could have had that all afternoon, possibly on orgasm number three by now, and wouldn't have to deal with a bunch of tentacles going bat-shit crazy in your room.
Your head butted the spell book, breath heavy, eyes screwed shut as the tip of the tentacle pressed against your entrance. They should degrade you back to pre-school because—no, even a preschooler wouldn't make such a mistake. And this wasn't even the first major fuck-up of the week. On Wednesday, you had flunked the botany test because you hadn't realized the page had a goddamn back.
In an instant, your head jerked back up. The book—the spell! You turned the page. And there, on the top, it said: Continuation.
You groaned. But not because of that. The tentacle had started rubbing your clit through the fabric.
‘Although the summoned subject is likely not hostile, it is advised to prepare an emergency procedure beforehand and under no circumstances use a closed environment for the summoning.’
Too late for that.
You read on: ‘The spell must be performed in a mental state of complete emotional detachment as tentacle species from realm E.22 have been known to prey on bodily expressions of sexual arousal. If faced with such a creature mid-arousal, retreat or use blocking spell (p. 462).’
Well, fuck. There was no time to check the realm determination table nor learn a fucking arousal blocking spell because that thing between your legs just figured out that it could go beneath underwear.
“No, no, no, no, no—” You reached down your pants and grabbed hold of the tentacle. It was warm to the touch, soft and a little slick. And it was strong. Tensed against your grip, wanted to go back up. Rub against your pussy. And then, it would only be a matter of time until you had a real problem here. So, you did what any reasonable magician would do: You grabbed the waistband with one hand, kept holding down the tentacle with the other, and wiggled out of your pants.
There.
You awkwardly maneuvered onto your side and twisted the lump of fabric around until you were sure the tentacle would be busy for a while finding its way out again. One down, nineteen-ish to go.
And that's when the whole bed moved.
You squealed as another tentacle shot out from the gap. You were dragged across the floor and pulled up, finding yourself floating in the air, right above the portal. It looked like some kraken shit right out of a Pirates movie.
Your hands, balled into fists, flailed helplessly in the air, trying to land a punch. “Hey—let me go!”
Blood shot down and your head starting pulsing in that uncomfortable upside-down throb. You were panting through your attempts to land a hit. Eventually, you gave up. Since this thing didn't have eyes at which you could direct a death-glare, you merely let out a defeated huff.
“At least turn me around, you dickhead.” You crossed your arms.
A lone tentacle came down to your face. You were prepared for anything. But—you didn't expect being smacked in the forehead. Lightly, but still. Your guests really weren't big on manners. It seemed to feel out your face, go down (up) your neck, your chest. It showed some interest in your breasts, fondling them lightly through the fabric of a shirt that was barely wining against gravity. But the tentacle seemed to look for something else. It slid further up, over your stomach, underneath your panties—
“Woah, woah, woah, wait—” You reached up to haul it back. Immediately, a set of arms came out of nowhere and wrapped around your wrists, pulling them back down. And the lone tentacle went on exploring.
“C’mon, dude—don’t. Look, my bad, okay? I'm sorry that I dragged you out of your daily business, I'm sorry I wanted to use you for sex—I'm sorry, okay? I’ll keep my hands off any summoning. I promise.”
You didn't know why you were still talking. There was no way of communicating with this thing. But running your mouth retained you at least a bit of control over the situation. Or so you told yourself.
The tentacle up above tugged at the waistband of your panties. And without further ado, it pulled them up until they were hanging at knee level.
You took a deep breath, head throbbing painfully. There was no getting away. This was happening. Your shirt was in the way, so you didn't see much. But you felt it. Felt the tip on your entrance. Felt it press inside slowly. You mouth fell open, a silent moan on your lips as the tentacle slid inside you all the way.
Then, the whole organism shuddered. Like a hive mind, everything started moving around you, tentacles shivering in the air like eels. In an instant, you were moved into a horizontal position (fucking finally). More tentacles wrapped around your arms, keeping them behind your head, a few others spreading your legs apart. Suddenly, it seemed like the whole network was focused on you. Tentacles hovered in the air above you like antennas of an anemone, their tips twitching almost excitedly. Something was going on here.
The tentacle inside you hadn't moved, yet. But now, it started—flinching? Lapping at something?
“Listen, dude, whatever you're doing in there, it's weird, so—”
To your surprise, it slid back out. It was slick with your wetness. A few tentacles came down to rub themselves against it. You lifted your head. Whenever they touched, another jolt went through the others. And as you watched the procedure, it dawned on you that, accidentally, you had just made a scientific breakthrough. You figured out what they liked to eat.
Without warning, the first tentacle slipped back inside you, started thrusting now. Taken aback, you let out a surprised shout. The sounds were amazing. Your wetness meeting theirs, obscene slick noises filling the room. The tentacles above kept hovering and twitching. Gasping in pleasure, you closed your eyes, let it happen. Fuck it. When would you have a chance at this again? When would another army of tentacles hold you down while you were getting the pounding of your life?
You didn't hold back, let out all the whimpers and moans and cries and more tentacles kept twining around your body, as if encouraging you. It was ridiculous how good it felt to be almost completely enwrapped like that—a blanket of tentacles, a wiggly mass against your skin—and as if the creature felt how much this turned you on, it started thrusting harder.
Little ah ah ahs spilled from your lips, and the tentacles spreading your legs became obsolete, you'd hold them open yourself if it would let you. Would let this thing fuck you until you had a stroke.
“I’m gonna—” was all you brought out before your orgasm hit you. Biting down on your lip, you barely kept yourself from shouting the whole dorm down.
The slick sound intensified, and you weren’t quite sure if you were squirting, or if the tentacle was coming inside you. The bulk of slick arms wrapped around your chest made it hard to see down there. It didn’t matter. It felt wet and warm and good.
Letting your head fall back against a squishy pillow, you groaned with relief. The tentacle pulled out, and something dribbled down your ass.
“Thanks, dude, I really needed that,” you let out, catching your breath.
As if the organism had to deal with its own post-sex bliss, the blanket around you loosened—even so much so that you could wiggle out a little and turn around on your stomach, holding onto a big tentacle like a tree branch. Beneath you, a whole other world expanded. Little planets floated through space, barely bigger than a house. Some had crater-like holes from which the occasional tentacle arm slipped out.
Mesmerized by the fact that you had a fucking galaxy in your bedroom floor, you let your gaze wander over everything the creature wasn’t blocking out with its arms. Big rookie mistake. With a hard pull, you found yourself back at your old spot.
“Okay, okay, I got it, no peeking,” you quickly said, hands raised in a disarming manner, “So—can you let me go?” Chest heaving, you looked up at the forest of appendages floating above you, a lot of them still twitchy. “We had a nice time, right? Guy over there certainly got his fill.” Your head gestured to the lone tentacle sprawled out on your floor, lying in what seemed to be a puddle of its own come.
Holding your breath, you got ready to haul your ass back to safety.
This time, though, the creature didn’t lose any time with another tentacle board meeting. Two of them shot in your direction, wrapped around your ankles, and pulled your legs up—further over your head—until it had you almost folded in half. From your first-row seat, all you could do was watch as another appendage plunged into you. You let out a squeal, and as if this bastard started to anticipate your moves, it pinned your hands above your head.
Stop stop stop stop stop, you begged, your pussy so sensitive it felt on fire. Only now, you saw what a mess it had made—all those juices flowing out of you, starting to run down your stomach. You groaned, struggled against your restraints, and groaned some more but this thing didn’t care. This thing wanted to fuck you and there was nothing you could do about it.
Just as you felt anther orgasm approaching with horrifying force, a violent shudder went through the tentacle inside you. Something flowed your pussy, and eventually started oozing out. The same white substance from before. The tentacle slid out, hauled itself through the air and slumped down on the floor next to the other one.
And something started to dawn on you.
“Are you gonna—” you started, but the words got stuck in your throat. Horrified, you looked around. Counted them. Eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one. “Is everyone of them gonna—”
The creature answered your unfinished question with another tentacle. A thick one. Thicker than the ones before. It stretched you wide open, penetrated you deeper than you thought was possible. With every hard thrust, it filled you perfectly, brushed spots science didn't even have a fucking name for yet. You’d pass out. You’d pass the fuck out if it kept fucking you like that. Slick come was still oozing out of you, running down your thighs, as the tentacle pushed the rest of it deeper. Locked in position, all you could do was watch and feel your orgasm approach again.
And then, something slithered up your back. Over your ass. Your eyes went wide. A noise broke through your lips, faintly resembling a desperate fuck, and a second tentacle slipped into your ass. You were slick all over, so it pushed inside like it was nothing. Started thrusting. First gently, then harder. Not a single coherent thought was in your brain, and like a broken record, all you got out was fuckfuckfuckfuck as they pounded into you mercilessly, as if your juices were an aphrodisiac.
This was godly. This was both fucked-up and godly and wrong—so wrong—and so, so right—what would your professors say if they knew you used your summoning skills for this? If they knew that you loved getting your holes filled by a creature from another realm, probably breaking every magician ethics code on the way? Fuck, if the whole academy knew. If all your classmates saw you like that. Ass up in the air, limbs bound, pussy nothing but a desperate, come-filled hole clenching down on a tentacle, mouth agape in a silent scream. You let out a whine at the thought, and then another, louder one as they sped up.
Two more tentacles came into view, seemed to wait in line. The thick one fucking your pussy angled itself so that it was brushing your clit with every thrust. And that was it. You came again. Hard. And just when you thought it was too much, just when you thought they’d stop and let you rest, they pounded you harder and harder until the thick one started pulsing and, far away, you felt a familiar warmth inside you. It was surreal, seeing all that liquid spilling out, and between coming your brains out and begging them to stop, you started to laugh because what if they could actually knock you up? But that train of thought got lost when the other one came in your ass. You passed out.
When you woke up, it was already dark out. Your room was lit in the portal's ominous magenta glow. Your first thought, oddly, was if you could somehow teach the creature how to close the blinds. What if people could see from outside? Then, you started regaining a feeling for your body. Everything felt weird, like you had overdone the morning stretch. Limbs tense from being maneuvered into unnatural positions. It took you another minute to realize what was going on. Now, you were floating in the air again, hogtied, head hanging down, legs held open. A long string of your wetness hung from your pussy, dribbling down into the galaxy below. The tentacles a few feet beneath you were slick with come, your panties resting on one of them, and—were those two tentacles inside your pussy? You felt so full. And so good. You had dreamed, you remembered. About coming. Or maybe that were the moments you woke up. Fuck. You were so tired. So fucking tired.
“How much longer?” you let out, voice hoarse. “Please, dude. Please tell me you’re done.” You couldn’t see a lot in the dim light. But there were some tentacles resting by the edge of the portal. More than before. Maybe you could speed things up a bit. Get this over with and then sleep for a week. And then try to forget all about it because if not, you’d do it again. You’d do it again and you knew it. You’d get so fucking hooked on this shit that you’d become the odd cat-obsessed loner but with tentacle monsters. Fuck, you could never, ever do this again.
“Hey—one of you, c’mere!” you called out and somehow, it understood. A lone tentacle appeared before you. Maybe they got attuned to their prey over time. It hovered in front of your face and, for a second, you didn’t quite know how to explain this. But then, you simply opened your mouth. It slipped inside. Teeth—you remembered and tried to keep your mouth open wide while your body was weighing forth and back from the thrusts of the others. It quickly got the hang of how blowjobs worked. When it pushed too deep, you made a gagging noise, choking for air, and somehow, the tentacle readjusted.
After you’ve given them a third hole, things did pick up a bit. It certainly helped that they had spread you so far that you could fit two in each hole at one point. Their come tasted curious. A little sweet. Your whole face was painted after a while and as the whole organism moved to fuck you in missionary again, a few tentacles came down and cleaned you up a little. Overstimulation became your normal state. At one point, you stopped counting your orgasms. They blended into each other, like a continuous high, and you were so far down ecstasy lane that you had stopped worrying about what physiological consequences this could cause.
When the sky started slowly turning blue, the thought that you had once lived in a reality without at least one slimy appendage in each of your holes seemed absurd. The slick coat on your skin was your attire. The warm liquid flowing down your throat your nutrition. Feeding this creature your juices your only purpose.
It had changed positions a few times during the night. Doggy seemed to be a favorite. It also liked holding you up in the air in positions even yoga instructors would shake their heads at. An honorable mention went to the time it had you hanging upside down again, your upper body so far down the portal that you were halfway in a different realm. Who could say of themselves that they had their first anal orgasm while looking down into a galaxy?
At 7:26 a.m., your gaze fell at the clock on your nightstand. Sixteen fucking hours. Your chest was heaving, and you finally had your mouth free again. Your limbs were still held down by arms but by now, they were a comfortable embrace, keeping you safe and secure, moving with your body when it thrashed through its climax. You were so used to them, that now, as they let go one by one, you felt an alarming chill run down your body. Nervously, you looked around. Some of them still let you lie on them like a mattress. But the others had freed you. What was going on?
From below, a single tentacle came. It was gorgeous, you thought—and immediately interrupted yourself—they were all gorgeous. All on your own, you spread your legs as wide as you could and pushed your slippery pussy lips apart. The tentacle slithered inside. With a wistful groan, you let your head fall back. This one went slow. Gentle. It savored. By now, you were so used to ruthless thrusting that this was almost a little dull. But the thickness made up for it. Soon, you felt as full as with the others and you lifted your hips a little and started meeting its thrusts. Wanted it to go faster. Harder. Bring you to your limits, where you felt most at home by now.
“C’mon, dude, that’s all you got?” you teased and from behind, a tentacle smacked your head. “Ow!” You laughed and sped up your movements. It did, too, and soon, the room was filled with those mesmerizing sounds, the only sounds you wanted to hear ever again.
But all of a sudden, you noticed something. Where there were once tentacles upon tentacles looking down at you, only your near-empty room remained. The portal seemed to have halved in size. Most of the tentacles have returned below, into their realm. They ominously floated through space, completely uninterested in you. Only the few holding you up remained.
This was the last one.
“Wait—” you said dumbly as the tentacle sped up, your pussy clenching down on it, “Wait, wait—what are you doing?” It didn’t react, kept on fucking you. A bitter-sweet ache spread through your chest. “No, hey, stop—stop—not yet, please!” A cry escaped you as the tentacle started hitting your g-spot, over and over again. “Please, I—ah, fuck—fuckfuckfuck—stop, please—please don’t—” You were so close again, it wouldn’t take long. But this couldn’t be it. This couldn’t stop, not yet. Not ever. This thing had to keep you, take you down to those little planets, keep fucking you, keep breeding you—
You let out a frustrated groan, about to grab the tentacle and push it back, drag this out a little longer—but then this would end and—fuck, you were so close. The tentacle was, too. You felt it pulse inside you. This would be the last time you’d be filled with its seed. The last time one made you come. The last time this would happen to you.
“No—” You reached forward and grabbed the tentacle in a tight grip. But it was so slippery, it pushed right through your grip—probably loving the additional pressure. You heaved yourself up and moved back, but the tentacle merely wound itself around your leg, pulled you close, and went right back to pounding you. You felt it. Felt it tense up. “Please—please don’t come, not yet, not yet, no—fuck—” You cried out, your whole body convulsing, almost falling off the tentacle mattress. You crashed into your orgasm, eyes screwed shut, holding on for dear life. The tentacle came with you, flooded you with its seed, fucked you through everything until your legs went numb. You were coming for fucking ever. It was good. It was so fucking good and you didn’t want it to end. Prayed that it would keep filling you, keep absorbing your juices—you and this creature, for all eternity.
In the afterglow, you barely realized the ceiling was moving. But you felt your bed's mattress under your back, solid and hard, no comparison to being gently held by dozens of arms. The creature tucked you into the blanket. You grabbed one of its appendages, but it slipped right through your fingers.
“Please stay,” you whispered exhaustedly, “Or take me with you.”
The magenta light slowly dimmed. You heaved yourself up on your elbow with your last strength. The portal was closing. Wistfully, you looked back at it. Felt the soreness in your body, your holes still gaping, come starting to flow out of them.
Just as the portal was almost closed, maybe the size of a plate, a single tentacle came out. It floated over to you and slipped under the covers. Like a snake, it slithered underneath the blanket and found its old spot between your legs. A gasp escaped you as you felt it nudge your pussy. Now, you were the one savoring. It pushed inside. At first, you thought it changed its mind and went for a last round. But it kept pushing, almost meticulously, making sure all of its seed stayed inside.
Then, it retreated and vanished in the glowing hole in the floor.
The portal closed.
Your room was bathed in the morning sunbeams. You fell asleep immediately; next time you looked up at the clock it was noon. Putting a hand up to your forehead, you let out a sigh. Your eyes kept darting to the spot on the floor, as if the portal would open again any second. Suddenly, something dribbled out of your pussy. Flowed all the way down until it soaked the bedsheet where a wet patch was already forming. Slowly, your hand slipped under the covers. The seed was slick between your fingers. And then, you pushed it back. Further and further inside.
Until you felt full again.
Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!
「 ### : 」 reader knows how to paint nails !! Established relationship <3 ya this is inspired by that one reel i saw on my feed and saved to my notes haskdjnajs
You're so focused, Wriothesley thinks. You're seated across his work desk, hand holding his and the other being oh so careful with the brush of black nail polish that you're painting his nails with.
"Black polish is such a pain," you had groaned to him earlier. "Like, it looks good and anyone can rock it, but you have to be so careful to not fuck up because the black will make it so obvious, you know?"
Wriothesley did not, in fact, know. Your nails had always looked well-painted to him to the point that he used to think that you would get them professionally done. Whatever color they were, black or blue or red, or with some intricate designs or stickers, your nails always looked cleanly done. Clearly, they were not for any lack of effort, either.
He had done his best to be a model client (?) the entire time you've been doing his nails. You were so focused on your job, scrutinizing frown on your face as you worked, and he would hate to be the reason to mess up all your hard work. But he can't deny how smitten he was with you in the moment, all your attention on him (his hands, technically.) He just really really wants to kiss you right now.
Like you hear his thoughts, you just about finish one of the coats of polish and look up at his face, a small smile on your own. If you're surprised by how he's looking at you, if you're wondering how long you've caught his attention, you don't let it show.
"Hi," you tell him, not wanting to disrupt the peaceful quietude of his office.
Wriothesley grins. In as equally a small voice: "Hey."
You gaze at him inquisitively, and his eyes never leave your face. "You okay? Bored already?"
"'m not bored," he chuckles with a smile. "I just like looking at your face is all."
It's your turn to chuckle, glancing away from him bashfully as you dip the brush back into the polish. "Mm. That so?"
Wriothesley hums, the curve of his smile growing wider when he sees you get flustered. "Mmhm. You're nice to look at. And I like looking at you."
And oh you have to will your hand not to shake as you keep painting his nails. You have to will your palms not to sweat, you have to will your eyes to not tear up at how sweet the bastard in front of you is.
"You can't just say that while I'm trying to focus," you whine to him, still too shy to look him in the eye, trying to divert your attention back to your work at hand. "If I fuck up your nails, it's gonna be your fault, Wrio."
"Sorry, sorry," he says, not sounding very sorry at all. "I'll be sure to let you know how much I love you after you do my nails, sweetheart."
thinkin bout getting knocked up by a tentacle monster… just with each tentacle having their own needs. as soon as one is done pumping me full, another takes it’s place, ready to cum deep inside against my cervix 🥺
Imagine being wrapped up in countless tentacles, the soft, warm, and slightly damp appendages winding around your body like steel cords while their tips seek out your holes. You don't realize that they secrete an aphrodisiac to keep the creature's victims eager and willing, and you're already too far gone to care. All you can feel is the pleasure the tentacles bring as they brush over oversensitive skin and plunge inside of you, filling up your mouth, ass, and cunt.
While the creature seems content to playfully use your ass and mouth, the tentacle in your pussy pumps with deep, purposeful thrusts that might have worried you if you still had the capacity to think. All you can do is hang suspended in its alien embrace and moan as the tentacle within you goes rigid, your womb suddenly warmed by a hot rush of its seed.
Just as quickly, it's replaced by another.
And another.
And another.
You come every time a new load forces its way into your fertile belly, your eyes rolling back in your head and your body helplessly shuddering. There's no way that you're walking away from this without its young nestled in your womb.