MilkMouse

Roadtrip with the Nightbrothers (my art and headcanons)

note: guys I worked so hard on this artwork, this is all I got, literally this is all I got.. the back seat is a work in progress, I’ll get around to finish it these days (they’re so cute heheh)

The whole trip is Icarus and Scorn’s idea. Maul and Feral didn’t even want to go, and nobody bothered asking Savage. They just showed up, shoved him into the car, and drove off before he could question it.

Maul spends most of the drive staring out the window, completely zoned out thinking about other things. He’s slightly annoyed that the whole day is being wasted like this, but he’s even more annoyed by how uncomfortable he is in the backseat.

Feral needs to pee like… every hour. He’s constantly asking for bathroom breaks. Icarus hates it because, if it were up to him, they’d drive the entire trip without stopping once.

Scorn doesn’t mind the breaks at all because they’re the perfect excuse to grab food. He gets hungry the easiest, and so does Savage, though Savage never actually says anything.

Scorn’s in charge of the music, and he and Icarus take turns driving. Everyone hates when Icarus is behind the wheel though, because he drives too fast and throws the car around sharp turns like a maniac.

Icarus insists he isn’t lost. He refuses to use directions because he “knows a shortcut.” Two hours later they’re somehow farther away than when they started.

Feral hates when they have music playing through the speakers because it overlaps with the music in his headphones. And he needs his own playlist for daydreaming.

Savage spends the whole drive looking mildly miserable, because his horns keep bumping against the roof of the car every time they hit a bump. He doesnt complain about it, it’s just written all over his face.

Nobody can agree on the temperature inside the car. Feral is freezing, Icarus says it’s fine, Maul and Scorn keep opening the windows, it’s a whole mess.

When they stop at a hill with a really nice view, Maul finally stops being grumpy for a little while. He gathers everyone together and insists on taking a photo of all of them before they leave.

After that, Maul orders them to stop at an actual restaurant so they can take a proper break and eat “real food.” He doesn’t count fast food and gas station snacks as an actual meal. Nobody complains though. They always end up having a great time because Maul tells the best stories, and the other Nightbrothers love them.

Once everyone starts getting sleepy, Savage takes the wheel while the rest of them doze off. Scorn snores, and every time he gets too loud, Icarus reaches over from his seat and smacks him across the face without even opening his eyes.

Right before they finally get home, everyone agrees it was actually a pretty fun trip, and suddenly it was everyone’s idea to go, and it pisses Icarus off but Scorn just laughs it off just loving the fact that they all liked it in the end.

Scorn - when he comes home late, after a failed mission

warnings: nsfw 18+, hurt and comfort

summary: Scorn never gave a damn whether the situations Maul dragged him into were life-threatening or not. He couldn’t have cared less, if anything, he laughed through it and lived for the thrill. That was until he met you. Now he actually has something to lose, and every near-death experience leaves him shaken, grumpy, and emotionally closed off.

note: eyyyy I drew thatt :’D hes so fineee heehhheh that’s our husband guys <3

The night is cold and quiet.

It’s already much later than Scorn usually comes home. Assuming he got held up, you slipped into the shower, leaving the front door unlocked for him as always.

The water has barely soaked through your hair when the sound of the front door opening reaches you. Scorn.

You shut off the water immediately, hastily drying yourself just enough to tug on one of his oversized tshirts before hurrying out to greet him.

The room is almost completely dark.

Scorn barely seems to notice you’re there, silently pulling his shirt off with rough, impatient movements.

Your stomach sinks, immediately you know, something’s wrong. He’s never this quiet. Normally you’d barely make it through the doorway before he had you wrapped in his arms.

“Scorn…” you ask softly, stepping closer. “Are you alright?”

Your hand reaches for his shoulder, but he shrugs you off without a word, already working his belt loose.

You don’t let it go.

“Scorn-”

Before you can finish, his arm snakes around your waist, yanking you firmly against him and pinning you to the wall. He lowers himself until his mouth finds the side of your neck, rough breaths fanning over damp skin as his hands disappear under your shirt, roaming over your body while quiet, restrained moans leave him.

“You should wait for me like this from now on,” he mutters darkly as he realizes you’re wearing nothing underneath.

You press both palms against his chest. “Something’s wrong. Talk to me.”

Instead of answering, he turns you to face the wall in one sharp movement. One of his hands settles against the back of your head, gripping into your hair, while his mouth trails over the back of your neck and shoulders, his tongue and sharp teeth claiming your skin. You can feel his bulge now pressing against your ass, his grip firm at your waist as he keeps your shirt bunched above your hips.

Part of you melts from the way he handles you, you love when he’s impatient and desperate. But the rest of you can’t stop worrying.

This isn’t just desire. Something happened.

When you try once more to coax him into speaking, you’re met with silence. His hand rises to cover your mouth instead, firmly quieting you as he pulls you tighter against his body.

You reach up, fingers curling around his wrist, easing his hand away from your lips while your hips press back into him in a quiet, reassuring tease.

“There we go,” he murmurs at last.

His hand slides beneath your chin, thumb brushing lightly along your throat before his fingers settle around your jaw, tilting your face so your ear is under his mouth.

“Spread your ass for me, baby,” he mutters. His voice low with impatience, while he fists his cock, lining it up with you.

Instead of obeying, you use the moment and turn to face him. The disapproval is already there, written plainly across his face. Ignoring it, you slip your arms around his neck and look up at him with quiet, pleading eyes.

“Please… don’t shut me out.”

He hates when you do that. He can refuse almost anything, just never your face.

A long, tired sigh escapes him, along with an eye-roll. But his hands slide beneath your thighs anyway, lifting you effortlessly as he carries you across the room, laying you down onto the bed.

This time, his touch is different, gentler.

One hand cups your cheek while he leans close enough for his forehead to almost rest against yours.

“I’ll tell you later…” he whispers, his voice rough with exhaustion. “I just… really need you right now.”

You don’t press him again. Instead, you kiss him deeply, your fingers tightening around his shoulders as though you’re finally holding onto him, as though you’re afraid that if you let go, he’ll disappear behind that wall all over again.

“Did I scare you, baby?” he asks quietly between kisses, his fingers brushing along your cheek before gently tucking a damp strand of hair behind your ear.

You simply shake your head, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his neck. Your legs wrap around his waist, drawing him closer until the hard length of him settles between your thighs. The contact sends a faint shiver through your body, and he lets out a quiet chuckle at your reaction.

Never breaking the slow rhythm of his kisses, he reaches down to guide himself inside you, his forehead resting briefly against yours. His lips find yours again, swallowing each soft gasp and trembling breath as he eases you open with unhurried patience, holding you close while your body gradually gives way to him.

Soo

To be honest, all these "brotherly relations" of theirs make me think that they look more like some kind of family organized crime group from the nineties than a syndicate 🏃‍♀️

And I also have this shit

Original lineart under the cut

Laundry day

(I started sketching this while waiting for my washing to dry in the laundrette yesterday pahaha)

I think about them a lot.