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#cross x oc
pokegalla · 2 years
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Skellie Kisses
Lol got this idea from a recent reblog and talking with @spiritmdraws hope you enjoy your skellie kiss 😏. (Spirit is technically an OC/self insert of @spiritmdraws just to clarify. Not my character.)
We all landed inside of a random home, face first onto the floor.
“Ow….” I muttered.
“Well that was….terrible,” Berdly groaned as he rolled on his back.
“OW SOMEONE’S ON MY TA-er….butt,” Susie said quickly correcting herself.
Noelle and Ralsei were already checking to see if we were injured while Lancer just stayed on the floor. We managed to get up and look around the home for a bit….until I suddenly got smacked with a broom.
“Who are you people and what are you doing in my house?!”
“Lisa?! Omg are you ok,” Bunny shouted. When she hopped over to me, the person froze up.
“Wait….Lisa?”
I looked up and my eyes widen, “….Spirit?”
“You guys know each other?!” Everyone exclaimed at once. Well this is a sudden turn of events….
“Yeah so Spirit here is a friend of mine through Tumblr. She’s a creator as well and makes cute drawings and stories too,” I explained.
Spirit nodded, “It’s very nice to meet you all! And I’m so sorry about hitting you! I just thought that someone broke in and I just saw a random silhouette so I just grabbed the broom and….WHACK.”
Bunny patted her head, “It’s ok Spirit. We all make mistakes. We ARE in your home after all so you have every right….especially because SOMEONE I know made a portal to here by mistake….”
“Oi….Susie wanted to go mad far into a random part of the dark world and got us all lost. I HAD to make a random portal,” I said.
“Heh still don’t regret it,” Susie said smugly. I shook my head at that damn purple dino.
“….Um Lisa? May I ask for a favor,” Spirit suddenly asked, “You don’t really HAVE to especially after I hit you but this is a good opportunity….”
“It’s cool Spirit. What is it that you need?” I asked.
She sucked in a breath and proudly exclaimed, “I need your help to smooch a skellie!!!”
Everyone looked pretty surprised, “Huh???”
Bunny stared, “You’re….a skeleton simp too?”
Spirit nodded, “And Lisa knows who I’m talking about….my number one skellie!”
I smiled, “Oh yeah! Cross is the guy! Then I hope you have some chocolate on tow….because our group will be your love gurus!”
“….Lisa. You have no clue how to ‘romance’ someone….,” Bunny said.
I wrapped my arm around Spirit’s shoulders, “Don’t pay any mind to the bunny rabbit. Me and my friends will get you that smooch.” Bunny face palmed herself with an annoyed groan.
“Tell us. Is there anything else you need,” Ralsei asked.
“Well….,” Spirit began, “there is ONE problem….”
She lead us outside and we all stared at the sight. Most of them were confused….while I was freaking out mentally.
“….I don’t get,” Susie said.
Noelle tilted her head, “Its just….cows?”
“So….many….goddamn….COWS,” I said in a distressed voice.
Kris looked at me, “So…? Why would cows be a problem?”
“Cross has a weird fear of cows. Like he would literally be ready to run at the very mention of cows,” Bunny stated, “Got any ideas Ms. Love Guru?”
Shit Bunny has me there….I didn’t expect such a problem would arise. Plus holy crap that’s a lotta cows! I looked around and noticed some paint cans nearby and I smiled widely.
“I’m gonna call Ink,” I said, “How good are you guys with painting?”
Spirit looked confused, “Why….?”
I picked up one of the paint cans, “We’re going to do a little art project!”
Cross came out of the portal, confused about why he was called over for….
Ink greeted him, “Hey Cross! Glad you could make it! Someone over there on top of that hill wants to talk to you!”
Cross tilted his head, “Ok? You’re not planning anything are you….?”
“No no no! Of course not. C’mon I’ll take you there,” Ink insisted.
“Uh no thanks. The hill isn’t that far so I can just-HEY! What the hell-,” Cross shouted as Ink started pushing him towards the hill but in a strange zig zag manner. Finally he let him walk on his own. “Ink what are you-“
“Um….hello?”
Cross turned around to see Spirit….who was holding some chocolates and a letter. His soul fluttered with excitement….this almost seems like a love confession like in that anime Epic showed him once….Spirit passed him the gifts.
“Please accept this! I…really like you and….I know you might not know me well but I just wanted to let my feelings known,” Spirit said, “And I’m happy to finally meet you!”
Cross blushed and looked shocked, “R-Really? You like me? I….I don’t know w-what to say….”
That’s when Berdly lowered our secret weapon…the mistletoe on a stick!!!
“….but it’s summer,” Susie said.
We all shushed her and kept hidden. Cross and Spirit had gotten shy and avoided looking at each other. But with Berdly shaking the mistletoe impatiently to urge them, it works. Cross cupped Spirit’s cheek and planted a sweet, lingering kiss on her lips. They separated, staring into each other’s eyes and holding hands.
“Maybe….we should go out some time….if you want of course,” Cross asked.
Spirit looked excited, “I’d love to!”
We all cheered causing the two lovebirds to blush even more. After congratulating them and Cross giving her one last kiss (and his number 😏) before leaving with Ink, Spirit walked over to me.
“Hey. Thank you so much,” She said happily.
“Ay no problem. I’m glad I helped out. You guys are cute together! I wish you luck on your future date,” I said.
Spirit giggled, “Thanks….but….what did you do with the cows?”
“Hm? Oh right I never showed you….Lancer wake them up,” I said. Lancer used his iPod and played cartoon splat noises. Suddenly we see large patches of grass move. “So basically I had Ralsei put them to sleep and we painted realistic grass camouflage with the help of Ink. But they were all over the place so we had Ink help guide Cross so he wouldn’t accidentally bump into one….”
“Wow….,” Spirit said.
“One problem left though….,” I admitted.
Spirit looked confused, “What would that be…?”
“….we need to clean them. But the camouflage is so good I can’t tell which is the cow and which is the grass….,” I said with a nervous expression.
Everyone then realized it as well and got worried.
“Ink….we might need your help again….” Bunny said sighing heavily.
“Heh don’t worry! I can tell the difference so it’ll be a cinch~✨,” Ink said smugly.
Spirit grabbed a sprinkler system, “I’ll help too!”
We all ended up having fun with the sprinklers, hunting down the camouflaged cows, and running away from Kris when he found a hose….netherless, it was a fun day!
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pumpkincottageart · 7 months
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Buggy the Clown 🎪🏴
Cross Guild 1/3 (or 4?)
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phantomialie · 1 month
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There was meant to be a lot more pages but I never finished this so :,)
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unknownarmageddon · 4 months
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back to back
Killer belongs to Rahafwabas Cross belongs to Jael Peñaloza
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yandere-writer-momo · 7 months
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Immortal
Yandere Lich x Afab Reader
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There was no such thing as magic or monsters. They were old tales once used to scare children… or so she thought.
What stood before her could not be described as a man… no. This was no man, but a monster parading around in the flesh of her lover. An undead monster with malevolent glowing ruby eyes in his pitch black eye sockets.
“You weren’t supposed to see me like this, my dear…” The creature’s husky voice whispers. He outstretches his hand to try to tuck a strand of hair behind her face, but she flinched away when some of the skin falls off his hand to reveal more skeleton. “This skin had started to decay too quickly… I don’t mean to scare you-“
(Your name) could only scream as she tried to flee, but something invisible held her in her place. Her feet now stuck to the ground like a tree as her body trembles like a leaf under his intense gaze.
“W-who are you?”
“It’s me, Aeron.” The undead creature gave her a bow, his rotten hand now tenderly caresses her face. “I’m your lover of course-“
(Your name) fails to shift her head away, her body convulsing in sobs when he presses the teeth of his skeletal face in an attempt to kiss her. More of Aeron’s flesh fell off in the process, the soft skin now sat on her shoulder. Tears spill from her eyes in horror.
“This is quite a sight for your eyes, my dear…” ‘Aeron’ pulls back with a sigh, he peels off the rest of the skin off his face to reveal an entire skeleton save for his ruby eyes. “I sadly do not have the same appealing appearance I had a millennium ago… but I simply could not stay away once I sensed you were back in this world.”
Aeron grabbed her hands and held them up to his rotted chest. The black metal band on his skeletal ring finger terrifies her to her very core. This monster was not her fiancé… “My heart may long be gone but I swear it beat only for you. I had no reason to have flesh or organs once you ceased to exist…” Aeron pressed his teeth to her soft hands with a cry. “I miss being able to touch you… to feel you. I envy that man who was in my place for a brief time but he is no more. He hasn’t been for a few years now actually.”
Aeron then sat back, his terrifying face tilted to the side when her tears didn’t stop falling. “My dear why do you cry? Do you not remember me? My name? I… I don’t quite remember my name either so I borrowed your temporary lover’s.”
“W-what are you?” (Your name) stutters out. This monster has been by her side for three years and she never noticed… how could she not notice?
“Well I am what you would call a lich. I sacrificed my humanity for immortality so I could meet you again once you were reborn. I was once your lover over a thousand years ago.” Aeron threw his hands up in the air. “I eliminated all other magic in this world so nothing could ever harm you again. I didn’t want something as silly as priests to stop us from being together again. How lucky was I that you weren’t chosen to be the saintess again.”
(Your name) watches the lich ramble. She was lost and didn’t have a clue on what he spoke of. They were lovers a thousand years ago and he waited a millennium to be reunited with her? She was a saintess? Then what was he?
“My dear, don’t question it too much. You’ll hurt you head.” The lich snapped his fingers, the flesh flew back onto his body and repaired itself. A familiar handsome man with dark hair stood before her now. Aeron smiled at her. “We can just pretend this never happened again… just like he have for the last three times you found out.”
“The what?” A hand was waved over her face and (your name) no longer knew what she was about to say… or why she was upset in the first place. “Aeron? What happened?”
“You just had a bit of a headache my dear. How about I make you a cup of tea to help?” Aeron rubs her back in a reassuring manner, his red eyes filled with love. “Just sit on the couch okay? I’ll take care of everything.”
(Your name) nods her head and goes over to sit down on the couch. She plops her body down while Aeron fetches her a fresh cup of tea.
Aeron smiles at his reflection in the window. Yes… this human face will do for now. All he has to do is convince her to stay with him forever. He wouldn’t fail this time… he had her wrapped around his finger rather than on opposite sides during a war.
Aeron was no longer an enemy necromancer but her lover. Her fiancé.
He’d burn the whole world down again if he had to. Aeron would do anything for his love… he’s already sold his soul and waiting a millennium for her. What was another thousand years to a lich?
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peeweekey · 21 days
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8:05 | SAM
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word count: 3.2k
summary: sam’s ten heart event with a twist.
tags: winter, developing relationships, fluff, swearing, cuddling, hiding from his mother in his bed lol
a/n: this spiralled out of my control and into 3k words… enjoy!
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it’s cold.
the fleece coat you’ve bundled yourself in cannot protect goosebumps from forming from the biting chill of the valley’s winter nights. your breaths come out in cloudy puffs of air, the heat slowly draining out of every exhale. it’s dark out, poorly spaced lampposts providing the bare minimum amount of light to navigate.
you got sam’s letter earlier, a clumsily written note that was stuffed haphazardly into your farm’s mailbox—the yellow lined paper he used, all crumpled and ripped.
meet me in front of my house! at 8 pm, i’ll be waiting. there’s something i want to tell you.
the ending sentence is somehow even more sloppily written compared to the ones before it. as if he was debating whether or not to add it in, but ultimately decided for it—it’s funny to imagine him hunched over his desk, stressing over what to write to you.
well, you won’t deny feeling excitement over the possibility of whatever sam has to say. if the subtle skip in your step is anything to go by.
you walk through the silent night of the town, it seems like everything’s frozen in place during the colder times of the year—everyone’s safe at home, toasty under their covers and you’d imagine thoroughly enjoying going to bed at 7 pm.
you do too, sometimes. there’s less to do when the ground is too frozen to plant any crop.
there’s a lot more free time out of the farm during the winter. you’ve really started integrating yourself with the townspeople—helping haley find her bracelet, befriending sam’s prickly coworker shane, and even discovering a shadowperson named Krobus in the town sewers. it really is starting to feel like home.
walking, you cut the corner passing by emily and haley’s house—and there he is.
he looks devastatingly handsome all dressed in winter clothing. his regular denim jacket switched out for a dark woolen coat, his pants are unripped and, surprisingly, not smeared with dirt.
though what you like most about his winter attire is his hair. those wild golden locks are laid flat under a woolen beanie—a stark difference from the spiked updo he usually does (though you like that one too). the tips of his hair are slightly curled upwards, revealing that family trait of curly hair.
you creep closer, just watching him wait for you—the way he folds his arms in an attempt to warm up, and the little shuffle he does on his feet. you laugh softly, he must’ve been waiting a while—just like you have for him.
sam turns at the sound of your laugh, his body unconsciously tilting towards you, like a magnet’s uncontrollable attracting to metal. “you made it,” he breathes, his nose, ears and cheeks pinkened by the cold.
you nod, unable to stop a bashful smile from forming on your lips. “i made it.”
a big grin splits his face, mimicking yours. underneath the lone lamplight he looks jaw-droppingly handsome. you feel yourself become warm just in proximity to him.
“i wanted to talk to you in private,” he says. sam’s buzzing with energy, surveying the dark streets before meeting your gaze with his. “it’s kinda cold out here though… i, um—i can sneak you into my room…”
your heart skips a beat, like you’ve skipped a step on a staircase. “what?” you croak.
your eyes catch onto him wringing his fingers, a nervous habit you can’t help but always notice (not because his hands are nice and interesting to look at, not at all).
“you don’t wanna?”
“no!” you inhale, trying to alleviate the twisting sensation in your gut. “i do wanna, ahem, lead the way.”
sam smiles at you, dimples and all. he leads you towards the tiny bedroom window in front of his house. the window is already open—you assume that’s where he jumped out of to meet you.
he climbs through the window with minimal effort, landing on the flooring with a dull thump!
you raise a brow. “have you done this before?”
sam stretches his hand out to you, waiting. his smile turnt sheepish. “i mean, i think we were all rebellious teenagers once.”
you resist the urge to snort—sam’s nervous, you can tell. he doesn’t have his quips and jokes tonight. and he’s shy, but eager. like a puppy, excited and curious about the world.
“o-kay,” you say, one hand in his hand the other set firmly on the windowsill. “make sure i don’t fall please.”
sam nods, eagerly. the curled ends of his hair shake along with the motion as he does.
how endearing.
you tighten your grip on his hand, hauling yourself through the small window, trying your damn best to not make any sudden noise. which is successful for the most part, only a tiny huff of exertion escapes you.
annoying, yes. but the chill of winter burns through any energy you have faster than other seasons.
your feet connect with the wood of his floor, hand still clasped in his and the chill merely at your back. it’s warm inside, with him.
his room is the same as it’s always been when you’d visit before—shelves, band equipment, posters—but the ambiance is different. a little more charged with tension so thick you could cut through it with a knife.
sam does not bother turning on his light, you don’t mind it all that much. but it takes some effort to avoid tumbling over stray objects that clutter his bedroom floor.
“look, I know I’ve been about nothing but the band for a while now…” he starts. “but I don’t want you to think that’s all i’m interested in.”
you chuckle, clasping your fingers behind your back. “it certainly takes up a big chunk of your interests.”
he pouts, literally pouts. it must be the love bug you caught because you think it’s just plain adorable. “i’m really trying over here!”
“sorry!” you grin, “okay, continue.”
“well, um… shoot, this is kinda hard, huh?” he forces an awkward chuckle. “and nerve-wrecking… but what i’m trying to say is…”
“i’m really happy that we’ve grown this close, and well…” sam looks at you, he’s stupidly red—the color spreading all over his face. “i—i’m just wondering, do you think of me as… just a friend?”
your breath stutters, and you feel yourself blushing before you can do anything to stop it. you stare at him as he does with you. the two of you locking eyes for a second, it feels like it’s just you and him in the world.
you feel your shy admittance at the tip of your tongue. no, you’d say, you’re more than that for me, if you want to be.
sam smiles at you, shy but so, so overwhelmingly bright—it’s blinding. your head is running a mile a minute when you finally get the courage—
“sam!” you hear jodi’s groggy voice from outside the door. your stomach drops with dread. “somebody’s at the door! go and check please?”
you lock eyes once again, this time for entirely different reasons, and with entirely different feelings.
“oh my god, sam,” you whisper hurriedly, panic gripping you. “your mom doesn’t know i’m here—what do we do—”
“hold on—” he replies, with the same sense of urgency as you. “okay, okay—i have a plan, just trust me, ‘kay?”
you think you might break out into a cold sweat. you look at him quizzically, “what?”
sam gives you an apologetic smile with that stupid beautiful face of his, he moves forward, grabbing you by your wrists, and moving you with him—towards his bed.
“sam!” you hiss, alarms are blaring in every corner of your mind as sam all but drags you under the toasty covers of his bed. he lifts the blanket and stations you by the edge, covering you in the blanket—which is now a lumpy mess.
this is his childhood bed you’re in, where his mother and brother are just by the door.
and his mother is calling him.
“i’ll get this over with quick,” he says to you, already heading towards the door of his room. “hang on tight, ‘kay?”
you breathe a sound of agreement, way too jittery to formulate any proper response as you quieten under the covers.
though the sheets do feel nice, and smells overwhelmingly of that specific cologne he uses (stolen from joja inventory, he told you once). you will yourself not to relax and melt into the sheets so fast. instead, you listen for each and every sound that may give hint to whatever the hell is happening.
there’s a commotion that you can hear happening, the door swings open, the hinges creaking along with it—this whole surreal experience feels a little like the confrontation part of a horror movie, the helpless victim hiding and the heavy footfalls of the killer.
though in your case, it’s not one set of footsteps, but two.
“what are you two doing here?”
“you’re the one who called us over, remember?” you can recognize the band’s shut-in pianist’s voice from anywhere. “you were all like, stop skipping practice, seb.”
sam’s voice is oddly pitchy when he responds. “…well, tonight’s no good!”
you hear the other person huff, you strain your ears harder to listen. the huffing person clearly fed up with the strange behavior sam’s putting out right now.
“my mom and vincent are asleep,” he adds hurriedly. “they’d wake up—”
you resist the urge to groan, stifling your mouth under a sweaty palm. jodie was just speaking to him minutes ago, there’s no way they’d buy that. he cannot be a more obvious liar.
thankfully they gloss over the fact. “sam, why are you acting so damn weird?” sebastian asks, straightforward as ever.
“yeah,” the other voice adds. feminine but strong. which you now identify as abigail’s, you hear a pinch of impatience in her voice. “and why are you red? did you sit outside in the snow or something—”
sam chokes, which he tries to conceal as an odd sounding cough. abigail pauses mid-sentence. the shift in the atmosphere is palpable. you screw your eyes shut, hearing the rapid rate of your heartbeat. it’s so loud you’re almost convinced the trio can hear the thumping from your hiding spot under the sheets. this is it, they’re going to discover you.
“oh, oh i see,” abigail grins. “on second thought, i wouldn't risk catching all those germs. i’m feeling starved, let’s hit the saloon, seb.”
the aforementioned man grumbles, seemingly puzzled by the sudden switch in abigail’s attitude. “huh… why?” abigail must have whispered something to him—you can barely hear over the muffle of sam’s blanket comforters. “ugh, alright. fine. you owe us one, sam.”
“oh, of course! mhm, yup,” you cringe at the immense awkwardness of sam’s response, feeling the overwhelming urge to pull out your own hair. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, yeah? now shoo! wouldn’t wanna get you both sick or somethin’…”
“huh?” sebastian replies, rightfully puzzled as they’re forcefully pushed out of the room. “why would we see you tomorrow if you’re sick—”
“well seb,” abigail says smugly. “let’s just say sammy here is taking care of some important business—”
“okay, bye!” you hear the door click shut. to your utter bewilderment, sam shut the door in their faces.
the room is deathly quiet, the air is stagnant and stuffy. once you feel it safe enough, you crane your neck out of the blankets to check over him. to trace any lingering feeling the sudden visit might’ve given him. sam’s got his back rested against the wood of his door, his back slumped.
“i—i wasn’t expecting that,” you say quietly from your hiding spot on his bed. peeking the top half of your face, watching the door carefully. “kinda nerve-wracking.”
and embarrassing.
“i know—i’m sorry,” he sighs, rubbing his temples. “i didn’t expect them coming over.”
“sebastian said you invited them for practice, though.” you point out.
“maybe i did,” he admits, creeping closer to you on the bed, even if he’s guilty and embarrassed. “i totally forgot—i mean, i was really nervous! my mind blanks when i get nervous…”
sam stops right by the side of the bed, as if he’s waiting for your permission to get in with you—in his own bed. and to be perfectly honest, you really want him to.
“kinda ruined the atmosphere too,” he looks away from you, eyes downcast and melancholy. “i had this whole thing planned too, and i, just… ugh…”
your eyes soften. “sam, it’s really fine. okay, maybe a little shocking but you know it’s not enough to scare me away.”
he looks down at you, worried. his eyebrows are ever so slightly pinched—you wish you could run your fingers over it, and smooth it out yourself.
“plus,” you murmur, reaching over the small amount of space between the two of you to clasp his wrist. “i’m not just gonna leave… just tell me what you were going to say—before the… interruption.”
that gives you the final push to gather your courage to tug him into bed with you. sam follows, flopping onto the empty bedding next to you without a fight. for a moment, it’s just the two of you, side by side, slowly huddling closer and closer for warmth.
and sam is warm. he’s practically radiating comfy heat you wish to burrow into—or wrap yourself around. the perfect bed-partner for winter nights like these.
you find yourself becoming addicted to the feeling.
sam angles his body towards you. you on your back and him on his side, it feels intimate and special. and for some reason, it feels familiar—like you’ve always belonged by his side.
“i think you know already,” he tells you, his eyes are not clear in the dim light but you know, there are practically hearts in them. “that i like you.”
you giggle softly. “and i think you know the same about me.”
sam tentatively grasps your hand, the freezing fingertips thawing under his careful touch. the caress of his hand on yours sends tingling electricity down your spine, your whole body feels alert—alive.
he speaks again, but this time his tone is a whisper of what it usually is. “stay awhile?”
“yeah,” you swallow, squeezing his hand in your grip. a small smile on your lips. “yes, i want to.”
“good,” he smiles, his eyes crinkle at the edges so softly and the dimples on his cheeks deepen. there really is no one else who can compare for you. “hey, you’re really cold… let me warm you up?”
you turn to your side, facing him. at this angle, your faces are mere inches apart. you can trace every dip, line and curve of his face, and he yours. your hand tingles with the overwhelming urge to reach for him and squeeze.
“it is cold,” you agree. “i’d very much like that.”
“phew,” he softly sighs. sam drags his fingers up your arm, stopping at your elbow. wherever he touches, a whisper of him lingers on your skin—a bone deep imprint you yearn for him to spread all across your skin.
you roll into him with little to no effort at all. sam drags you to his chest, your ear perched right above his heart, you can hear the steady thump! of his heartbeat from underneath. sam winds his arms around you, intensifying the heat you feel by tenfold—it’s not uncomfortable at all, though. you like it.
your bodies fit perfectly together, just like puzzle pieces. a mess of limbs tangling together. the warmth of him making you shudder in honey-like delight. it feels syrupy and soft and warm wrapped in his arms.
his hand at your back travels downwards, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake you feel even through the thickness of the fabric separating the skin of your back and his fingertips. his hands feel rough and calloused at the small of your back—from playing guitar and his skateboarding incidents—but you enjoy the feeling.
you trail your fingers under the thick fabric of his jacket and shirt, feeling the smooth skin underneath—the action has no deeper meaning than you wanting to feel.
sam’s uncharacteristically quiet. his breaths are slow and long, like he’s on the verge of sleep. yet his arms are wound tight around you—like he never wants to let go of you. your nerves make you feel like a slow simmering soup. warm and slowly cooking over the fire.
you two stay entangled for a while, in comfortable silence. sometime during the night you’ve matched your breathing to his, and he pulled you somehow even closer to his body.
but, a thump comes from his window, a light tapping sound. soft but persistent. the two of you opt to ignore it, in favor of snuggling closer to each other. yet the taps continue, and become louder and faster.
disrupted by the noise, sam mournfully throws the covers from over him to check, untangling himself from your grip. leaving a very him-shaped indent on the bed left in his wake. you groan, sticking your bottom lip out, you miss the warmth of him already.
“oh shit.”
the expletive makes you sit up in his bed, the comforter draping off your middle. you can make out the shape of him even with the dimness of the light—sam’s back is towards you, and if your eyes dare deceive you, he looks like he’s shrinking into himself a tiny bit.
“what is it?” you whisper-shout to him.
he slowly turns to you, wide eyed, his shoulders stiff. sort of resembling a kicked-dog. sam bows down his head—with what you think is shame, for what reason, you can’t tell. rubbing your eyes of sleep, you furrow your brow, craning your neck to look out the window behind him.
abigail and sebastian are there, waving wildly at you. your eyes widen. abigail and sebastian are waving at you with smug smiles plastered on their faces.
your stomach drops for the umpteenth time that night. you honestly feel too horrified to speak.
you bury yourself under the sheets, a feeble attempt to conceal your mortification. so that’s why abigail was playing along with sam’s urgent ramblings—she knew (not that sam was any good at keeping a cool facade, he is totally incapable of lying smoothly). you groan, you feel like a rebellious teenager again, only the part where you get caught and utterly humiliated.
outside, you can hear the loud roaring laughter of the duo through the glass, alongside the awkward, embarrassed chatter of your newly-minted boyfriend. (not technically official, but the title succeeds to relieve your horror by the tiniest bit)
still, you stay put. through the mortification and embarrassment you still stick yourself to sam’s side, or more literally, on his bed—because you know, there’s no other place you’d rather be.
you spare another glance out of the covers at the trio—to your surprise, sam’s beat you to it. looking at you with heart eyes and the most lovesick expression (you’re pretty sure yours looks the same).
you know there’s going to be a lot more explaining to do in the morning. but it doesn’t matter to you, not right now when you’re in sam’s bed on the verge of sleep.
not when you feel so warm.
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a/n: shoutout to the ass trio for making an appearance in the fic! i love you abby and seb.
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skelinor · 3 months
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popipopipo pyramid head!
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Decided to go ahead and make this live! Good ol' snuggle YCH with our bois Cross, Nightmare, X Papyrus, Dream, and Epic!
2 slots open for each of them! Message me here with questions or hit up my Ko-fi!
$35 Flat colors +10 for simply render +20 for Full Render Give me your refs for your character and any small changes you may want for the pose(i.e.. arm positions, facial expression, little things like that) No Frans and no fontcest.
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ari-cuno · 10 months
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Hmmmmm... Are they the same...?
He's just going off what he knows-
Axel belongs to me
Aim belongs to @zu-is-here
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mirrists · 9 days
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ogh khux.............
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fritzpop4 · 8 days
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Cross is exhausted after a long mission and needs his boyfriend 
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ordowrites · 2 months
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I want it to be known the C for Cum point on the Wanderer post gave me like the most intense brainrot- Like now I just have the mental image of trans Wanderer with like an intense breeding kink and equally as intense baby fever and like he keeps trying to breed his partner but he can't because he has no dick and no fertile cum so dude is just going through the most intense "I would knock you up if I could" type shit-
Like bro is just going through the nightmare of every lesbian and trans-man that just wants bio-kids and that is going to live in my head rent free for the next month because honestly I fucking feel that so hard bro-
oh my god anon, i feel you on this. it has to be a common thing amongst us XD
BUT this has inspired me so-
cw: breeding kink, afab reader, notsfw, use of toys, biting.
trans!wanderer is ago~
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You'd seen him watching families come and go on the streets each day, a thin frown on his beautiful face - you think he looks envious most of the time and always considered asking if he wants to have children (but never quite doing so because you know you'll get a snappy response in return).
Perhaps, you've entertained the thought of a family with him - biological children are off the table for you both but adoption isn't a bad thought. Or hell, maybe finding out how his creator made him and mimicking that if he wants.
Whatever would make him happy.
Baby fever hits him pretty hard on the bad days - those are the days he'll shove you onto the bed, all but rip your clothes off - fingers working at your cunt until you're begging for mercy. He knows all of your spots to make you cum quickly, easier to make you ready for whatever strap on or toy he's picked out for your quivering hole.
His breath is always hot at your hear, needy moans escaping his pretty lips as he shoves himself against you.
"Imagine," he'd groan and growl against your ear, nipping at your earlobe. His movements are erratic, desperate - he's close himself and you're already a mess of your own slick, the fake semen from the dildo, and his. He always makes a mess of you. "You round and plump with my babies, my children. Mine." He bites at your breasts, focusing particularly on making you keen and whimper, sensitive buds perked and ready.
You cannot mistake the need in those violet hues, the desperation - and you sure as shit wish you could give him what you wanted.
The thought makes you clench around the toy, makes him cum - squirt - himself. There's bruises on your wrists from where he'd grabbed you, bite marks on your chest and neck, claw marks along his back and shoulders.
He'd cage you in for a few minutes - breathing hard as you kiss his face in a sloppier, wet manner as you stroke his hair that feels too real to belong to a puppet. You'd quietly assure him that you love him so so much and he'd only grunt in response.
It would be an immaculate conception, you think. Wouldn't it? You're tired, but he's hoisting your legs up on his shoulders. It's never a one time deal - not with him, never with the Wanderer. When he does something, he makes sure he does it multiple times. Until you're both exhausted, until he's satiated and content. The Wanderer never sings you praises, but he certainly does whenever the baby fever strikes him.
So, every time, all you can do is spread your legs wider, wrap your arms around his shoulders, and pull him close.
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empressofmankind · 4 months
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Hooked On You
[Crocodile x F!OC]
Explicit with a capital E
Word count: 1.7k / 5 pages
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(A/N) Featuring Crocodile and Shivs when they were still a thing. I don't know what force of nature even kept these two together. Actually, I do. Its shared and unresolved heinous trauma, and coping through mutual enabling with a side dish of codependency. They have so many problems. Gambling problems. Drinking problems. Marital problems. Who's gonna tell them sex isn't therapy? I am counting on you, Robin.
This is the same time frame as 'The House Always Wins', so ten years prior to the actual story and likely after hours at Rain Dinners. There's a joke in here somewhere about trouble in Paradise - literally, as that is where Arabaste is located. I haven't a clue in which larger fic I will stick this, but it is likely a long way off and it felt selfish not to share it.
Tag(s): Absolutely inappropriate use of that hook. Does it count as foreign object play? Probably. Its not a knife but I am going to say knife play because it is a stabbing weapon. I am sure the knife crowd is down. Thoroughly drunk sub, though he ain't sober either. We get a whiff of that daddy vibe of his, too. Obsessive and controlling behaviour? Definitely. Edging? The worst. Begging? Totally. Absolutely filthy language. I keep forgetting how foul-mouthed he is. Some mild degrading? Yes. What else? Are they still dressed? Yes. Married? For better and for much worse. Size difference? Still relevant. Power imbalance? Yes, she's so drunk. And so horny. He could turn her any which way rn.
My sincerest apologies for this title being the worst pun known to man, but the besties were asnooze and I had to make do.
🐊 🐊🐊
Hooked On You
“Ssh,” Crocodile said, his eyes hooded as he gazed down at Shivs, sprawled in his lap and across the couch. Her sparkly cocktail dress hitched up to her waist, showing off dark stockings against pale thighs. Who knew where she'd lost her heels? He stroked a red bang from her eye. It gazed up at him, large with need and drink. Again.
“Careful, honey,” he rumbled as his gaze lingered on her bare pussy. Watching her labia part against the smooth metal as he gingerly ran the tip of his hook between them. Felt her shudder, heard her quiet, plastered moan as her legs twitched towards each other. He didn't like it when she drank this much. “Keep those pretty thighs apart or you'll hurt yourself.”
He spread her open with two fingers, her inner folds slick and shimmering with her juices already. And touched the curved tip against the small, moist folds concealing her entrance. The breathy huff that drew from her fogged his thoughts with hazy lust, the ravenous beast within him stirring from its slumber. She was such a needy thing, and he wanted to see it. Wanted to see her eager little hole contract around the metal, grip at it with no hope of finding purchase. Watch her sweet juices run rivulets down its curve as she came for him, and only him.
She rolled her hips, and he stopped her promptly. Her protesting whine was as slurred as her speech had been. She squirmed, but he kept her put. His hook wasn’t sharp, per say, but it would not give in the way his cock would if she foolishly shoved her needy little cunt into it.
He waited till she stilled, fingertips brushing the edge of lace between stocking and thigh. When he dipped the cool tip between her moist inner folds, her legs twitched further apart for him. And the gluttonous creature inside Crocodile burred happily, devoured the pretty sight. He lightly, carefully, dragged the tip along her inner walls, searching for the sensitive spot just a little ways inside of her on memory alone.
A whimper, when he found it.
Her pitched moan as music to his ears when he stroked it again.
“Oh-ah!” 
Her hands shot down, weakly, drunkenly, scrabbling at the metal as she tried to tug him closer, feel more, feel everything, just the way she would if it were his fingers dug knuckle deep into her moist cunt. But it wasn’t.
“Shh,” Crocodile shushed against her red hair as he gathered her wrists away before she hurt herself with her blind need. She glanced up at him with such drunken lust that he almost forgot he was upset with her.
“You’ll hurt yourself if you’re not careful,” he said, his hooded gaze on her parted lips, her panting breaths. And kissed her as he pressed the tip of his hook against that sweet, sensitive spot, gradually increasing pressure until she squirmed in his lap and moaned into their kiss.
“What is it?” he whispered against her bated breath as he paused and devoured the garbled, indecipherable plea that spilled from her lips. “You want me to fuck you with it? Is that what you want, doll?”
“Y-yes, p-plea-ah!”
Her precious mewls and the way she writhed in his hold with barely contained need spilled like gasoline onto the smouldering fire of his own desire.
“I can’t do that, honey,” he said as he gingerly guided it deeper, tracing the inward curve of her tight vagina, a passage he knew so well. “It’ll hurt you.”
She twisted in his lap and he had to pin her hips down, palm flat against her belly, to stop her rocking into his touch. She absolutely could hurt herself with her reckless, drunken actions.
“N-need. You-ah,” she whined in a tone that made him so hard. Made him want to toss her around, pull up that firm ass and fuck her sopping pussy full of cum like she deserved. A low, guttural groan clawed its way from his throat as he pressed her narrow hips down, pushed her butt unto his aching cock as he held her put. He wrestled the rapacious beast down, but only just. 
Soon, he promised himself.
“G-gim. Me. Ah-shole,” she complained. Her hands fisted into the cushion and the fabric of his pants, her knuckles bright and bruised.
“Ts-tsk. That is no way to talk to your husband.” He carefully withdrew his hook, her slick cunt making a delicious noise around the metal. “Don’t I take good care of you, sweetheart?”
“N-ngh-eed,” she whined as he slid the tip back into her with a smooth, languid push that followed the curve of her tight passage as far as it would go. “N-need you. T-to-oh-OH!”
“To what?” He mused against her hair as he stroked her lower belly, watched the muscles there clench and tremble at the lightest touch. The urge to bury his cock into her warm, snug hole clawed at his sanity like a living thing. He needed to have her. But he wanted to see. Wanted to watch her cramping pussy grasp at the metal as she came for him mewling his name. 
“You need a little help?” Crocodile said as he traced his fingers down to her pubes. “Is that it, doll?”
Shivs nodded, fingers digging into fabric and his thigh, barely managing a reply. “Y-yuh.”
He ran his fingertips in broad, lazy circles around her sensitive bud, never quite touching it. “You need a little help to make your sweet cunny make you feel so good?”
“Y-yes.”
“Why should I? You’ve been nothing but trouble.” He slid his middle finger down through her wet folds, teasing the hot, slick skin where his hook dug into her sensitive, pliable hole. “Tossing patrons, wrecking the floor, ransacking the bar. Why should I reward that kind of behaviour?”
“Am s-so,” she babbled as she arched her hips towards his touch. It felt good. Bad. Better than she’d ever thought it could.
“What was that, doll?”
“Am s-sor,” she wheezed as his thumb ghosted across her clit. “Ror-ry.”
“Didn’t quite catch that.”
“I s-said I am s-sorry!”
“Are you?”He teased her sensitive bud, delighted in the way she twitched, the way her toes curled. “Such sweetly false promises from my darling wife.”
“F-fuck you, C-croc-odile.”
Her fist came at his face half-heartedly, trembling from drink and desire. He caught it and pressed kisses against her bruised knuckles. “Yes, you will.”
When he reached down to rub his ring and middle finger across her clit, her fist latched onto his shirt, her fingers digging into the expensive fabric as she arched into his touch and hook, both, with the loveliest raw cry. He relished how much she wanted it.
He gathered her closer to him, keeping her hips locked against his own to stop them moving. He massaged her needy bud firmly, rubbing his fingers roughly against her the way he knew she craved. “Say my name again.”
“Hnn. Mmm. Croco-dile,” she whined drunkenly.
A deep grunt escaped him, his cock throbbing beneath her as he rubbed her aching bud between his fingers. He drew his hook back, lightly caressing the tip along her inner walls, searching. 
“Again.” 
“Croc-oh-dile!”
He could tell from her pitch he’d found it. The spot he knew would make her see stars.
“Once more?” he rumbled into her ear as she trembled against him, so ready to reward him. To show him what he wanted, needed. He watched her tether for a breathless moment, watched her slick pussy clench around his hook. Then nudged her across with a sudden, sharp tap into that sweet, sweet spot.
“Cro-oh. Ah! Yes!” she wailed, and he savoured the way his name broke as she lost it.  “P-plea-uh. Yess!” 
He struggled to keep her trashing in check as her orgasm ripped through her. Forcefully pinned down her narrow hips as they bucked against his firm grip. He kept the pressure on her little cum spot, rubbed her clit through her peak. His hungry gaze fixed on her sopping pussy, watching her tight hole spams around his hook. Her sweet cum gushing out, running down the slick metal and dripping from its curve.
She was perfect like this, and all his. 
And always would be.
“My darling wife is such a pretty slut, and ever so sweet to me,” he murmured into her ear as she calmed down, her panting breath slowing, steadying. The sweet trembles racking her body subsiding. “Able to cum on anything I put in her needy little hole. Even my hook.”
He drank in her blissful, fucked-out look as she gazed up at him through heavy lashes, the caress of too much alcohol lingering behind her flushed cheeks and bright eye. Her lips were parted, an edge of teeth visible. 
He withdrew his hook, and groaned at her meek whine and the way she reached for it. She was such a needy little thing. The ever-hungry creature within him stirred with a satisfied burr, never quite done feasting on her, devouring her every word, action, noise, sin. 
“You know what I am going to do after this?” 
He brushed her fussy touch from his hook, caught her fingers in his own as he rested the slick metal against her flat belly. The ravenous beast roared, no longer tolerating being ignored.
“I am going to wreck your pretty cunt and stuff it full of cum until you come apart beneath me,” he said as he pressed a kiss against her bruised knuckles, catching her bright, greedy gaze. “You need that, don’t you, honey?”
He didn’t wait for an answer.
🐊 🐊🐊
Horny hell seat reservations - @ruledbyproblematique @littlemountainwolf @fanaticsnail @tiredemomama
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third-arch · 2 months
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Oh also I made this last night!!🤍🤍🤍
Law as Marshal from AC!!⚡️⚡️⚡️
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He goes “kun” at the end of every sentence :))
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lethalcontracts · 2 months
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--The Warden of Rend--
A collab between @zika-the-certified-idiot and myself of Clay as a dark souls inspired boss!
Zika did the body rendering, while i did the initial base sketch, base face and hood rendering and the weather/background!
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