Theres Something About Seeing A Character With Some Blood On Them Yet Looking So Calm And Collected That

There’s something about seeing a character with some blood on them yet looking so calm and collected that has my brain buzzing..

I might just come up with dad nanami instead of Batista megumi first...

It’s laundry day and it appears all my clothes are dirty. Guess I’m going naked until it’s all finished 🤷🏻‍♂️ I’m kind of cold though, anyone want to help me stay warm?

You know the rules little ones, watch where you open it 😏

content warnings : breeding. marking ( + hickies ). does this count as monster fucking? maybe.

you don't understand the level of simping i have for zhongli. he's literally peak husband material for me. that man talks a lot, he's been through so many eras that he's seen directly behind the safety of an established liyue — imagine him telling you the history of teyvat and liyue and maybe even some about celestia,,, sobs. eastern dragons are kind and wise and gentle, and he embodies those aspects perfectly in the way he brings you flowers everytime you meet, the way he brings you your favourite dishes, and the way he respects your space. but one characteristic of dragons is that they're possessive of what they consider to be theirs, you're his; heart, mind, body, and soul. you belong to him completely. he breeds you full every night, leaves marks all over your neck and chest to signify his ownership to the jewel of his horde. zhongli is the best husband and he fucks you every night, what more can you ever ask for?

content warnings : mdni. hints of pet play. collaring. asphyxiation. dacryphilia. spitting.

kuroo wrapping a pretty little collar around the column of your neck, not too tight, not too loose; just right. a coo spilling upon the sight of you so pretty in the accessory that showed his ownership over you — fingers hooking around the underside to give you a tug forward, laughing at how you choked and stumbled. tears springing into your eyes, cheeks flushing red from the lack of oxygen in your lungs, fingers scrambling and scratching against his wrist to ease his hold just a little. instead, he laughed at you, free hand reaching a finger to tap against your bottom lip, amusement evident in his gaze as he watched you struggle to part your lips — a glob of spit landing on your tongue that had your throat working against the grip to swallow. ah, what a good little pet.

this has been a PSA