#quit looking @ me w them big ol eyes

[froggoneit]

finally got around to drawing her mario sunshine outfit after i made this post💗

#artists on tumblr #art #froggoneart #no reposting #princess peach #princess toadstool #mario bros #super mario bros #mario sunshine #quit looking @ me w them big ol eyes #wasnt sure i should post this as reblog or its own post but i remade it after messing up so many times so whatever own post it is

[iwelcomedeathwithopenarms04]

Yandere Asmodeus and Fizzarolli

With a Nifty Darling

Ps. I take requests ;)

● You three met at Asmodeus' club.

● You had no idea how you even ended up in the club but you did and when some fucker decided to hit on you? Well, they didn't come back in one piece.

● That's when Fizzarolli and Asmodeus saw you. You were stabbing some poor sap while manically laughing as blood flew everywhere.

● Fizzarolli couldn't help but burst out laughing. Seeing a small demon stabbing another demon that was six times their size while every other demon was avoiding the murder zone was hilarious to him.

● Some idiot thought it was a good idea to take advantage of this, however, and climbed on the stage, trying to harass Fizzarolli.

● Asmodeus, of course, saw this, but before he could even act himself, there you already were, stabbing the asshole with the same little knife.

"HAHAHAHAHHA STAB STAB STAB"

● They were in love.

● Fizzarolli and Asmodeus approached you, and you stopped your stabbing when a big blue hand picked you up.

"Hello darling, what brings you to my club?"

● Your neck cracked by how fast you turned your head as your one eye got bigger and your pupil got smaller.

● Don't tell anyone, but that scared the shit out of Fizzarolli and Asmodeus (and they loved it).

"GAHAHAH, you're a bad boy, aren't you?"

● You somehow got yourself out of Asmodeus' grip and began climbing all over him as you touched and poked anything your little hands could reach.

● This amused the both of them.

● And from then on, the three of you could always be seen together.

● Let's say this setting had happened BEFORE the start of the show. Their yandere tendencies aren't that noticeable as they definitely aren't in love with each other and you. But later on? OHOHOHOO.

● Moxxie was singing on the stage for Millie under Asmodeus, Fizzarolli, and YOU interrupted them.

"Give me a thrust." Fizzarolli takes this as his que to make trumpet sounds as you climb all over Asmodeus.

"Show me some lust." Que Fizzarolli, continuing the trumpet sounds as you mischievously look down at the imps from Asmodeus' shoulder.

● Yeah, in the end, you tried to stab Moxxie but were stopped. Poor you :(

● On another note, you don't really like being at the club. Cleaning is one of your favourite "hobbies," and sometimes you get overloaded with the need to clean when you're at the club. Asmodeus and Fizzarolli, of course, take notice of this and try to keep you at Asmodeus' Chambers. (Which can be quite hard as you are small, fast, and agile).

● After the Mammon incident, Asmodeus and Fizzarolli aren't as shy in showing their love as they were before. Fucking they don't do with you, sorry honey but you are tiny compared to them, but they love you all the same. What came as a surprise to them, though, was how inexperienced you actually were.

● Before, you were gigging about "bad boys" and all that, but when they declared their love for you, you just froze and stared at them with that big ol' eye.

● Hun? Are you okay? Why did you freeze like that?

● They look at each other with concerned glances, and in a minute, you just continue cleaning as if nothing happened, muttering about "roaches" and "winning."

● Ignoring that, Asmodeus' nicknames for you are "Darling, Sweetheart, Devil's Ivy..."

"Darling ____, please let's NOT harras the staff, okay sweetheart?"

● Fizzarolli likes to call you "Doll, their highness (as you two like to play pretend sometimes), Cheshire..."

"___ be a doll and give me the powder, please?"

● Their yandere tendencies aren't that visible for others (or for you at least), but they are insanely overprotective. You can't leave the palace without THE BOTH of them.

● There was this one time though...

● You were at the club, sweeping around feverishly when you bumbed into some random sinner, and they spilt alcohol on the table.

● "Fuck you're making a mess!" The sinner yelled at you, only to freeze in horror as you begun to bawl your little eye out.

"I- I'M THE MESS?! WAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"

● The sinner might just have peed their pants when Asmodeus and Fizzarolli ran over. They were panicking as this was the first time you've ever cried (at least in front of them), and you wouldn't stop bawling your little eye out.

● They tried to calm you down but nothing seemed to be working, not even the funny faces Fizzarolli made that usually managed to make you cackle manically. Thankfully, you calmed down as you begun to fiddle with the small balls on Fizzarolli's hat.

● By this point, the sinner had already run out, and the one's left in the club minded their own business to NOT inquire Asmodeus' wrath.

● Don't worry, little devil, Asmodeus, and Fizzarolli took care of the piece of shit that made you cry <33

You are never the mess.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

I would like to remind everyone that Nifty IS NOT a child, though her body is small. She is canonically 22!! And is seen having sexual feelings towards other demons, so PLEASE do not come complaining in the comments!!!

Though criticism is appreciated ♡

#yandere hazbin hotel headcanons #yandere helluva boss #yandere asmodeus #yandere fizzarolli #yandere hazbin hotel

[neverchecking]

Yoo, can I request sub!wild w/ reader? i was thinking like reader could just be teasing him by sucking on his neck, marking him up, ykyk and he's below them desperately trying to grind up against them. bonus points if he comes untouched >:)

have a good day!! or night!! or evening!!!!

You have a good day as well, anon! You absolutely can request that. I mean my favorite boy, being a big ol' sub? Sign me the F U C K up. This is also kind of an apology since my last Wild bit kind of, admittedly, wasn't up to my own standards. It was rushed and not as polished as I normally like. It was deleted twice and I was just over it at that point but that's no excuse. Anyway, I hope this makes up for it, Darling!

And you know I'm going for those bonus points.

Smut, so 18+, MDNI.

Smut CW: Wild is a subby baby boy, you edge him a little, he busts a little prematurely with no touching (BONUS POINTS), and you know me. He cries just a little.

His Home

The difference in the way people treated him varied. It varied a lot. It ranged from people taking one look at his scars and treating him like some form of monster that had escaped from it's cage to people automatically bowing to his every whim-- deeming him some form of warrior who had faced battles far past their comprehension. Some people tried to hide their whispers behind cupped hands and side glances while others outwardly made their disgust known.

It was just the way it was.

At least in his Hyrule, however, he had a safe haven. A home. A place he could go to, to hide and recollect himself enough that dealing with the public was palatable once more. The civilians of his Hyrule knew he was the Hero, yes, but that didn't stop them. They still talked about how he had failed. How he was a century too late. How it didn't matter what he did, because they had grown accustomed to the Calamity. That he had done it for his own pride when that wasn't the case at all. Of course, he knew why he did it. He did it to avenge the fallen champions. He did it to free Flora, who had been fighting non-stop for a hundred years. He did it to ensure his home remained safe and sound.

Because you were his home. You were his sanctuary. You were the one to collect him into your arms and hold him close, gently whispering soft comforts into his ear, the one who was humming a half-remembered lullaby to sooth his nightmares. You remained a stone pillar of patience and comfort for him to follow. Like a beacon calling him to his Goddess.

Then he was dragged away from his home. He went kicking and screaming, make no doubt about it, but it didn't stop that Fraud from pulling him away. He was dropped with his sword brothers, which was...fine (Fine was a good word for it). But they weren't you. They had nothing on you. They could dream of being half of the comfort you were.

That wasn't even the worst of it, however. No, the worst was the face that he had now lost his safety blanket. His one hold over his own crumbling sanity was eons away and the only way he could even hope to reach them was through luck alone and Hylia's filthy grace.

Neither of which he would bet any amount of rupees on. If he were a betting man, that was. But he wasn't.

He wouldn't bet anything on making it back to you in a timely manner.

But life had a way of surprising him, he supposed, as he blinked bleary eyes open only to find familiar surroundings. The stale smell of the forest, the cool feeling of dew and dirt under his palms, even the drifty breeze flowing through his hair. It was all enough to remind him that while he wasn't quite home just yet he was close. Closer than he had been in so long.

He could practically taste you on his tongue already, the salty tang of your sweat; hear the lustrous harmony of all the sounds he could pluck from you. Just thinking about the heat of your skin under his palms, smooth and unmarred unlike his own, had him buzzing with epinephrine. He was sure even the others could pin something was different with him as the minute they entered Hateno they had wandered off to the inn and allowed him to wander off. Which was perfectly fine with him.

He had it all planned out as well. He'd get home, scoop you into his arms tight enough you would never doubt his love for you. His absolute devotion to your being. How nothing, not even time itself, could separate the two of you. Nothing could keep him from you.

Then he'd pepper an absolute flurry of kisses all over your face, neck, anywhere he could reach, just to hear your giggles ring out in pure glee. Feel your arms wrap around his own neck, fighting to return the affection only for him to make the action nearly impossible. How could he break apart from you long enough?

Of course, he would, only to press your lips together in a heart stopping kiss. Just so you could steal his very breath from his lungs. And he'd let it happen. Just to make you happy.

It didn't happen. The reason you and him paired so well together was because you surprised him at every turn. At any given point you could turn him onto his head and throw him for a loop. And he lived for it. The excitement and the rush of following you into unknown waters. It was so addicting.

This was all proven when instead of him trapping you in his arms, you pounced first-- as if waiting for him by the door. You didn't even give him the chance to act before wrapping your arms around his neck, crashing your lips together in a flurry of desire and fondness. Distance does make the heart grown fonder or something, he didn't know. His brain had began the shut-down process, too overwhelmed on emotions and a lack of blood.

When you dragged him to the stairs leading to the loft, positively filthy promises leaving your lips making him stutter. His heart was in his throat, pumping wildly in an effort to make up for all of his blood rushing to his cock-- which stirred to life in his pants.

He hadn't even known he was so pent up until you were pinning him to the bed, hips a familiar weight against his as you dragged your clothed core over his own. It was like being hurdled into the deep end within seconds as something hot and fiery and untampered roared to life in his veins.

His hips bucked wildly, aching for some sort of friction that he desperately needed. He would take anything you gave him, of course, but couldn't you take mercy on his poor, tattered soul? He would slaughter Ganon a million times over should you just lower yourself a bit more. Just give him a little more, please.

The feelings of your lips on his neck had him jolting as his own hands latched onto your hips in a positively bruising grip. Teeth gently nipping at skin before your molten tongue was lapping at the indents, soothing the slight sting. It was all so erotic, positively prurient, and he could barely contain himself. He knew he was whining. High keens full of begging and pleading pleas. He knew he was whimpering. Bordering on too overstimulated to actually do anything, but not stimulated enough to actually burst. It all felt tight and frustrating, with salty tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.

"Wildflower, please-" He cried out, nails clawing up your back as you moved from the hickey you had previously been working on to an unmarked patch of skin. You hummed against him before gently snapping your teeth on the skin again.

It was too much, but not enough. Just enough to keep him right there, but not enough to teeter over, not yet. At least you seemed to take into account his plea, humming in consideration against his skin before pulling off with a positively lewd pop. You weight settled onto his lap, at long last, before you were returning to your previous endeavor.

It only too one roll.

One roll of your hips, plump and perfect, with just enough weight to stoke his cock in just the right way. One salacious rock of your lower body, pushing against his own in a rush of lust and heat. One roll to have him absolutely shattering underneath of you.

Just the push he needed to have him jutting up into you, in an embarrassingly juvenile move, crying out in pure ecstasy with fat tears finally rolling his cheeks. It was an uncomfortable feeling to be reminded of how tightly wound up he was, but to be reminded of how tightly around your finger he was wound? It was pure bliss. To know that he was yours in such a way that you didn't even have to touch him to have him coming undone was salacious enough to have him remaining hard.

To know that you were such a comfort to him, his home, to have him this `devout to you was enough to have him restarting his entire being as fast as he possibly could if only to pin your stunned form beneath him.

He had to show his faith somehow, didn't he?

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #yandere linked universe x reader #loz #yandere legend of zelda #cindersins #Yandere wild #lu wild x reader #wild x reader #yandere wild x reader #lu wild #link x reader #Yandere Link x Reader #Wild cries #Just a bit #as a treat #bc I love making the LU boys cry

[lovelybunn]

south park post covid main 4 w/ you in a revealing bikini ! 🍹˚ ༘

warning(s): uses of prns she/her, fem!reader, lowkey a crack post, swearing, suggestive themes

author's note: i'm pretty late to the party (and this was just stuck in my drafts) so i decided to post it now, hope you enjoy!

stan marsh

his swimming trunks don't ever fit him, either they're squeezing his balls off or they're so loose that he will almost flash some poor innocent family

"alcohol-free" by twice but with the alcohol

i mean, stan's like wasted on like five margaritas before he sees you, and when he does... oh, HOOCHIE MAMA!!

ok but fr, the moment this pot belly man sees you in that cute ass swimsuit, he is ALL OVER you.

he's gon grab you from behind and give you all kinds of sloppy neck kisses

"you're so sexy baby. i love you~"

did i forget to add that's he's an ass man?

"🎶 take that, rewind it back, usher got the voice to make your booty go– SMACK!"

ㅤ

kyle broflovski

leanly built kyle broflovski me thinks...

the only one who actually reacted like a normal grown individual out of the four of them 😐

if you have any body dysmorphia, this man will make sure you love your body just as much as he does.

don't get me wrong, he did show you off, but that was more of him making a declaration of "that's all mine, and you wish she was yours."

his hands most definitely will be glued to your hips/waist (his favorite part of your body)

anytime someone would look at you in a flirtatious way/quite literally flirt with you, he would instantly give that signature "i'm tired of your shit.™" kyle broflovski look.

forehead kisses and CONSTANT compliments

trust me, he loves the way that fabric hugs all your yummy curves 😋

ㅤ

eric cartman

this cutie patootie was shocked to see you in that. (calling cartman of all ppl that makes me want to vomit)

he tried his so very hardest to cover you up, with towels, a cover-up, his own swim-shirt, but you took it all off bc ofc you did.

istg he almost cussed a mf out for cat-calling you, he was fighting the urge to keep the true eric theodore cartman deep inside

he would hold your hand the whole time like if he let go you would vanish out of thin air lmao XD

weird headcanon, but i think eric loves seeing your hair down and wet, like all that water dripping down your body really turns him on

sunbathing is his fav past-time when going to the beach/pool

LIKE IF Y'ALL ARE TANNING TOGETHER, LAY ON HIS BIG OL TUMMY, IT'S WORTH IT ISTG, ITS LIKE A PILLOW

also cartman can't swim for shit so he stays in the shallowest part of the water at ALL TIMES. (come on, you don't wanna see his old ass drown, do you?)

ㅤ

kenny mccormick

kenny man bun, kenny man bun, KENNY MAN BUN (but fr, he doesn't like getting his hair wet so he puts it up every time y'all go to the beach/pool)

you just had to pick out a bikini that would show the most amount of cleavage, didn't you?

my man's eyes must've POPPED out of their damn sockets like a cartoon character when he saw that shit

"ah that's hot, that's hot."

every chance this dude gets he's gon come up to you like "madam, your breasts look awfully heavy, shall i hold them for you?"

but enough about kenny's obsession with boobs, i honestly feel like he'd be all kinds of lovey-dovey the whole time

hugging you, kissing you, feeling you all over,I'm pretty sure you'll have to literally bitch-slap kenny cuz this man will be attached to your hip like a tumor

also, you know that hawaiian shirt he always wears (that probably hasn't been washed in 6 months)? yeah, that thing will stay on his body the whole time unless he's in the water. but it's unbuttoned ofc, he isn't trying to die of heat stroke bruv 😕

#south park #south park post covid #south park headcanons #south park x reader #stan marsh #stan marsh x reader #kyle broflovski #kyle broflovski x reader #eric cartman #eric cartman x reader #kenny mccormick #kenny mccormick x reader #crack post #crack fic #honestly idk wtf im doing #lmao #please ignore this

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: Just read some great Toji stuff and got a little inspired to type some stuff out.

C/W ::: Mmmehhhh, drinking (beer), brief violence, homemade porn, oral M->F, I think that's it. If I missed anything and you just can't, tell me and I'll fix it.

WC ::: Just over 1,700

Toji had been pissing you off and pushing you to your near breaking point for weeks now. He was the most demanding man you had ever had the displeasure of knowing.

But you two didn't just know each other. You moved in with him about 4 months ago. He was so sweet and thoughtful. And he fucked you so good every night, every morning, whenever you wanted. Never asking for anything in return. The two of you would often go out to dinner and he'd always grab the bill before you had a chance to blink at it. Sometimes he'd bring you a little something he saw that made you pop into his mind. Just a little, thoughtful gift.

But these last few weeks, you've done all you can not to kill the man you've grown to love.

"Babe!"

"I'm right here, Toj'. You don't have to scream." You said, obviously annoyed.

"Yeah, I know you're right there. Grab me a beer, huh?" He couldn't even be bothered to turn and look at you while he was speaking. What you wanted to do was grab two beers. Keep one for yourself to calm your nerves after you'd thrown the other one at his head and had to answer questions from the police while they nodded their heads sympathetically to you giving them a recounted play by play of how you murdered your lazy ass boyfriend with a can of unopened beer.

"Sure. Let me just finish scrubbing the sink out, swiffering the floor, wiping down the counters and cupboards, cleaning out the fridge and taking out the gar-"

"Fuuuckkk, woman. Quit your bitchin'. I'll get the goddamn beer myself. Wouldn't want ya to get that pretty little head of yours overwhelmed. Now would we?" He got up from his favorite chair in the living room and you could tell that he was already well on his way to being drunk.

You didn't move from your spot on the way to the fridge. Toji simply picked you up and turned your body to where he was standing, essentially switching places with you.

"I KNOW you're not going to walk on my drying floor. Tojiiii," you whined. "What the fuck, man? I finished that like 5 minutes ago. Why are you walking on it with your big ol' dirty feet?" He shrugged his broad shoulders and kicked back a smile that still made you weak in the knees and sticky between the legs.

"Dun'no. Maybe I'm trying to piss you off, baby cakes." He stood right in front of you and bent over so his lips were centimeters from yours. His curious green eyes staring you down, knowing full well you were softening under his gaze. "Baby. Don' be too mad at me." He pouted, bottom lip brushing softly against yours. "I can't help it. I'm not the most conscientious tool in the shed."

You laughed, "Did you just call yourself a tool? Because I second that no- AH! Fuck, Toj- Toji!" He bent over and hoisted you up over his right shoulder, not spilling a drop of his beer. "Put me down. I'm not playing right now."

His right hand came down hard on your ass cheek and it made you yelp out in pain. You were only wearing an old t-shirt of his and a pair of panties. And he often didn't hold back when he was 'disciplining' you. You brought your left hand up and around to try and rub the sting away.

"Uh-uh, sweets. You remember that the next time you want to get all high and mighty with me in my own house. Fuckin' talk to me like that. Teach you a lesson. You smart ass … little shit."

Toji carried you down the hallway to the bedroom and flopped you down onto the bed. You bounced a couple of times before your body settled into the plush bedspread.

"I'm so not in the mood for this shit, Toji. Now move, I have shit to do."

"Mm-mm, doll. Get in the mood for it." He put his right knee onto the edge of the bed and palmed at his cock through his low hanging sweats. Licking the scar on the right corner of his mouth. You noticed that was a habit of his: Whenever he was horny, he always licked that little spot. It would be futile to admit that it worked wonders on your pussy. It turned you on every single time he flicked the tip of his tongue against it.

"Nope. Not happening, mister."

His hands grabbed your ankles and pulled them toward him, forcing your legs to open and expose your dampening panties.

"Uh-oh, your body is telling me a different story." His quirked eyebrow made you want to punch him in the damn face. "Looks like my baby girl's pretty wet already."

"Shut up. Don't look at me. Don't touch me." You tried to hide your face from his view. But Toji didn't let you. He reached over to the bedside table and grabbed his phone. He tapped the screen a few times and held it up to your face.

"Now, who's gonna make you cum, huh? I got 10 minutes of video saved right here. Let's watch it together, yeah?"

It was a video from last week. You were on top of him riding his thick cock, your tits bouncing. Your hair stuck to your forehead as you rolled your hips back and forth, grinding your clit against his pubic bone. His hands squeezed the fat of your thighs, your flesh spilling out over between his wide fingers.

"Oh fuck, baby. That's my g-good girl. Fuck, take ... this ... cock. Uh-huh. Jus' like that, such a pretty little slut for me. That pussy is just drinkin' me in, huh. Fucking thirsty little cunt, yeah. I'm gonna give you something to drink here real soon, little pussy. Jus' wait a minute. Oh fuck, huh, mm-hm, mm-hm, mmuh-huh, fuck baby. Take it take it take it, hohhh fffffuck yeahhh, shit!!!"

You blushed at the memory. You didn't need to watch it again to have a perfect recollection of how it all happened. That was a particularly filthy fuck. If you weren't wet already, you would be now. But all that happened is you're twice as wet for him. It's like he could smell it on you. Like the fucking dog he is.

"I'm gonna put this back here," he said as he tossed his phone back onto the bedside table. "So, I can hear those pretty little moans from you instead." He grabbed your ankles again and yanked you toward him. "Let's see what we've got goin' on down here, yeah."

He leaned over and hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and pulled them off, letting them drop to the floor. He then placed his hands on your thighs and pushed your legs up and apart, spreading you open.

"Ah, shit. Fuck, you're dripping. My sweet little slut." He licked his scar again and his eyes looked almost feral. "Bet you taste so good, baby. Bet you want me to eat your little pussy right up, huh?"

"Mm-mm, nooo. Not tonight, Toji. I'm still mad at you. You've been an absolute shit for weeks. No pussy for you!" You tried to push him away, but he wouldn't budge.

"Yeah, I think I will." The way he laughed at you was infuriating. He slowly lowered his face down between your legs. Watching your eyes and face the whole time, and licked a long strip up your folds. "So fucking sweet. Just like candy. You're my little treat, huh? Mmm, that pussy is so fucking good."

Toji pressed his mouth against your pussy lips and sucked them into his mouth. "Uh-huh, mm-hm." He moaned into you, letting the vibrations travel through your body, making you shiver. He reached his hands up to your stomach and slid them up and under your shirt, cupping your breasts in his palms. "These too. God, you have the prettiest tits, baby. So soft, like little clouds or somethin'. Such a fucking treat for me."

You arched your back to press them further into his hands as he kneaded your flesh, tweaking your nipples. "Nuh, uh, Toj'. I'm still mad at you. St-stop it." You said breathily. Not even believing in your own convictions at this point. 

He didn't stop. He kept sucking and licking and pressing his tongue into your clit, swirling it around in little circles that made you grip the bedspread beneath you.

"What'm I writin' on your pussy, doll face. What am I spellin' out?" He lifted his head for a moment and looked at you, his green eyes shining with lust. Then he continued to twist and twirl the tip of his tongue around on you.

You looked down and saw that he was indeed writing on your pussy with his tongue.

"I don't know what the hell you're writing. But this sure doesn't feel like an apology, if that's what you're gettin' at." He laughed right into your cunt. You had to fight back a chuckle because that was almost worse than someone laughing in your face. You loved this playful side of him, though. 

Pulling his head up from you, he snorted through his nose, "D'ya have bitchy-o's for breakfast or some shit? Good god, doll. Lighten up. The floor in the kitchen ain't going anywhere. The garbage sure as fuck isn't gonna get any worse in the next few hours. The food in the fridge won't spoil anymo-"

"Few hours?! What the fuck do you have in mind, Toj'?" You let your head fall after you saw the gleam in his eyes. You weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

He shrugged, "Oh, I dunno. Maybe we can fuck for a few hours. Sounds like a good plan, right? What else are you gonna do tonight, huh? I'll keep your ass in bed all night long. I don' give a shit."

That fucking classic Toji Fushiguro smile. 

The bastard.

You sat up and pulled his shirt from your body. And taking either end in your hands, you used it to pull his face back down to finish what he started.

"Fine. But you're getting me a beer after this, doll face."

He hummed out an acknowledgement the best he could with how full his mouth was.

Taglist ::: @blkkizzat (I know how much you love your Toji so I thought I'd give you a little shout for this one) @arlerts-angel @darkstarlight82 @millennialmagicalgirl @callm3senpaii (we WILL get you to the dark side)

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji x you #fushiguro toji x reader #toji smut #toji jjk smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n

[arachine]

okay but eddie and or/steve w kitty!reader is just her doing blatantly possessive and affectionate things towards him n him internally freaking out.

she stretches out on his lap and rolls onto her back because she wants him to pet her tummy and his hands are hoverin in the air like "oh my god?????"

i may have gone a little overboard on this. i do not apologize tho. and about halfway i forgot about the tummy thing but i shall incorporate it another time 🙏🏽

warnings: just a little humping and teasing for now (like it’s literally just a tease for the full fic i still wanna write <33)

can you imagine when she initially starts warming up to him tho!?

after their introduction, she pulls mike aside and asks if she can stay with eddie for a night. obviously, he’s a little surprised because, well, she’d only just met him! never has she ever (in the span of two years) slept over anyone else’s house—only the younger crew’s and by extension, steve’s!

“what? pft, no,” he laughs, “you’ve never stayed with anyone else but us,” he tries to reason but she won’t budge, far too stubborn and forthright in her decision. mike sighs but figures he can’t really blame her, they’d spoiled her rotten.

“‘m not gonna do anything, just wanna stay for a night!” she pleads, grabbing at his collar and looking up at him with those big ol’ eyes. god, she could be so persistent.

“well, if you’re sure and if it’s fine with eddie…then…” everyone looks over to eddie who has not a damn clue what’s going on, but he’s just nodding his head and wait—what?

“wait, what?,” he queries, unsure if he’s heard that right, “stay with me? as in, like, coming to my house? that staying with me? us. together. under one roof?”

steve side eyes him before speaking, “no she’ll sleep outside,” he jokes, “yes she’ll stay with you, god. are you okay? don’t make it weird.”

now kitty’s looking at him, waiting for him to say yes, that he’ll let her stay, and he’s looking back at her, face still molded in shock.

“sure, no, yeah. she can stay.”

-

he regrets it, he really does, because she’s not at all what he expected. he assumed she’d be quiet, reserved—but she was the complete opposite. she was just so touchy, so feely, so…affectionate—it was pushing him far beyond his limits.

at first, when the two of them had arrived to his trailer, she was a little curious—which was a given, you know, because it was new territory, new grounds to cover. an unfamiliar environment that she was getting to explore for the very first time.

she’d amble around all shyly, going up to things and smelling them, asking eddie what they were and if she could touch them. ‘sure, yeah, knock yourself out’ he’d assure.

eventually, they’d made it to his room and before he could even clean it up a bit, she’d taken residence right on his bed, curling herself into a little ball.

“it’s a little messy in here, sorry about that,” he sits down on the bed, trying his best as to not disturb her. there’s silence for a few minutes. just the sound of her quiet purring, and the rapid thumping of his heart.

he’s not exactly sure what to do with her, doesn’t quite know what cat—people—hybrids need in regards to basic care. but what he doesn’t expect, is for her to rise from her transient repose and jump on him.

“hey, woah,” the brunet laughs nervously, “what’re you…what’re you doing?”

“just wanted to sit with you, ‘s that not okay?” her ears flop, a pout quickly replacing her feline-like grin, “the others always let me cuddle them.” fuck, she was going to be the death of him.

“no, it’s okay. just didn’t expect it.”

as soon as he assures her it’s not a problem, that’s when something clicks. because now she’s doing more than just cuddling, now she’s licking him up, nipping on his neck, grinding down onto his crotch—things that are far from the likes of innocent cuddling—things that she shouldn’t even know how to do.

“w-wait a minute, kitty,” he tries to halt her ministrations, tries to pull her up and off of his lap, but to no avail. she’s got her thighs locked down so tight against his, that he can feel the heat emanating from her cunt.

“you gotta stop, can’t—we can’t,” he protests, though his voice is laced with desire—desperation. and she knows it, knows that he wants her, can practically see the heart shapes in his eyes.

“don’t you wanna play with me?” the hybrid asks with the tilt of her head, rolling her hips playfully. jesus christ, he was so fucking hard, there was no point in trying to deny his attraction to the feline. and of course he wanted to play, he’d do anything to touch her—taste her.

“shit, god, do you do this with everyone?” there’s a hint of playfulness in his tone but he’s genuinely curious.

“no…this is different. let’s keep this between us, ‘kay?”

© all content belongs to arachine 2022. no reposts, modifications, plagiarizing, or remaking of any form without proper credit.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x y/n smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x you smut #concepts

[ravensliterature]

The Fight After the Storm

A/N: Lol I posted again

pairing: Tormund x Reader

warnings: Only fluff really

w/c: 916

Prompt: You suffered major losses after the battle at Winterfell. Tormund does his best to cheer you up. 

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You had won the fight against the white walkers! Cheering and laughter could be heard all throughout the North coming from Winterfell. You couldn't deny that you were happy that the fight was over. You could even say that not being turned into a pale zombie was the highlight of your life. However, you couldn't deny the great feeling of loss that was clouding your joy. Your father and two brothers had died in the fight. You knew they did not have a great chance at survival. Your father was much older than the average soldier and your younger brothers were just lads without much training. However, you all needed every man that you could get to fight. And when the time came for them to go on the front lines, it was their duty as soldiers. It wasn't fair. It felt like someone ripped out your heart and stomped on it. The sound that filled the castle after the battle was the loudest you'd ever heard. Everyone seemed so pumped up, you couldn't deny everyone their joy. A victory was still a victory. 

"What's wrong lass?" Tormund asked as he approached you with a cup of mead in hand. 

You smiled sadly as you shook your head. You didn't want to ruin his good mood. Tormund and you had actually gotten close since his arrival to Winterfell. 

 He had taken quite a liking to you during your stay with the Starks and despite your constant rejection, he remained persistent. Your father would never have approved of the match. A north man with no land or title. He would have scoffed at the suggestion. 

You looked at him in his piercing grey eyes and said: "Nothing really, I'm happy that we won. We all are celebrating aren't we?"

Tormund laughed loudly before replying: "Of course we are."

He paused for a moment, taking another gulp of mead from the cup.

You noticed that something wasn't quite right about his smile and he chuckled lightly to himself. You knew that there was something troubling Tormund.

"I know about your ol' man and the boys. They were true fighters."  He continued, causing you to frown slightly.

Your father and brother may have been true warriors but that should not have been expected of them. They shouldn't have died. 

The silence hung between the two of you until Tormund finally spoke again; "They should have got to see it through." He added quietly.

Your eyes met his dark gaze and you sighed softly before replying: "I know."

Tormund nodded before taking your wrist and dragging you along.

"Come along lass, there is something that I must show you. Follow me."

You furrowed your brows in confusion. You weren't sure what he wanted to show you but you decided it best not to ask and simply complied.

You trailed behind Tormund, trying to follow where he led you. Finally, Tormund stopped in front of a room and pushed open the door. Inside was a small pup,  barely big enough to fit inside the bed it was laying in. 

Tormund crouched down and patted the tiny dog. The dog wagged its tail quickly.

"His name is Brandon," Tormund explained.

He motioned for you to come closer and Brandon immediately started to whine, wanting attention.

Brandon was your youngest brother's name. 

"Is he yours Tormund?" You asked as you watched Brandon lick his paws.

"Nah lass, he's yours," Tormund replied.

You walked over to pet Brandon and he jumped onto you happily. As you scratched Brandon behind the ears, Tormund began to speak.

"I saw your brother find him wandering outside the castle gates. He tried to ask you father to adopt the pup but he said no. I got him so your brother could play with him whenever he wanted."

"Thank you so much Tormund, for helping him when you could." You muttered.

"It's nothing lass. Besides you've done so much more than that. If anyone deserves happiness then it's you. Now come on. Let's celebrate with some wine." 

After getting Brandon settled back into his nest, Tormund grabbed the bottle and poured you a glass. Tormund passed you the wine glass before he raised his own glass.

"Here's to one of the bravest men and brothers I have ever known!"

You clinked your glass against his and drank deeply.  

You were both silents until you finished your glass. Tormund offered to refill your glass but you shook your head. You could feel the effects of the alcohol already starting to set in. It made your mind foggy and your stomach flutter in excitement. You needed this. You needed to forget everything that happened today and just be with him.

Tormund was there for you when you needed him most.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours, sending sparks rushing through you. It didn't last long though. When you pulled away he chuckled, causing a smile to grow on your face.

"You need sleep, lassie. You've had a long day."

"Can't sleep yet. Not when my mind is buzzing." You admitted.

Tormund chuckled again and pulled you onto the bed, pulling you to his side. You snuggled into Tormund's chest and closed your eyes. Within seconds, you were fast asleep. Tormund was watching over you, ensuring that you wouldn't wake until the morning. He hoped that the next few days wouldn't be too painful for you. He hated seeing you sad.

However, wounds like these take time to heal. 

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#game of thrones #got #battle at winferfell #tormund #tormund giantsbane #tormund x reader #tormund x y/n #tormund giantsbane x reader #tormund giantsbane x y/n

[stitchthesewords]

Sending love your way, friend *hugs* what's something you've wanted to ramble about but haven't had a chance to yet? Any ideas that are in the baby stages? Anything you wanna tali about we're here for <3

Im gonna. Use this as an excuse to talk about Sector AU. Which I know you specifically know about but I haven't talked about it much on tumblr.

Okay so Sector AU is my PolyZITS X Rancher AU [Jimmy got added later. I mean. Look at him. Hes like Tango's wet cat. And Tango is his wet cat. I. Hhhhh]. I sort of havent settled on anything about sector au specifically yet because it's just kind of my 'I wanna think about my rarepair guys in situations' au but the gist of it for those who don't know. ->

Every guy in the relationship represents a different 'sector' of the MC Universe. Zedaph represents the End and is a sort of beetle hybrid sort of inspired by the endermites. He has the shielded wings, multiple arms, those big ass beetle...antannae? Antler? things? And the beady black eyes. He's also only like 4 feet tall. He's tiny. Bug guy.

Tango represents the Nehter [of course] though not as your standard Netherborn Tango guy, though it does pull from that a bit. He's sort of - a lizard? He [and zedaph] can skitter up walls and needs to be kept warm - going as far to swim in lava to do so. IDK man a lot of the nether creatures make me think of lizards. Instead of wings, tango has those like. Arm glider things some lizards have, along with the frills and the scaly skin. He still has the fire hair, though its almost like a mohawk in my head that goes down his back, w a lizardy tail to match. Charmander! He's charmander. he's also short, like 4'5, so not as short as zed but still. tiny.

Skizz is an avian, specifically a hyacinth macaw which are the biggest and strongest of the parrot species - and they're the deep blue parrot you can see in minecraft. I made him an avian bc i like bird guys but also idk man Skizz just fits the bird vibes. Everyone always makes him an angel to go with Impulse's whole demon thing and given Impulse this felt fitting to do. It should go without saying he's fucking massive. Like 6'8 massive or sometihng. big.

IMPULSE is a descendent of the Ancients, who still lives underground. I havent really figured out fully whats going on w him but Sculk Guy who isnt Quiet Human and is also tall but not skizz tall. Like a few inches shorter.

And then theres Jimmy, who's just a plain ol human who lives in the world and gets kind of sucked into their world. I imagine maybe that all of the servers these 5 interact on are like, continents in this world, and theres like some not-quite-server-fic shenanigans occurring where its like. They go on adventures and can interact with worlds they dont exist on [yet <- manifesting Hermit Skizz] and also they get to hold hands nad kiss maybe and tango and zed can climb everyone like a tree and its like

I have two very specific scenes in mind - Skizz teaching Impulse to fly w an elytra because he cant teach him FLIGHT proper but avians use rockets the same way elytra work where they glide back down so he can teach Impulse [And later - jimmy] to fly.

And then a second imagine of tango and Jimmy in a cave exploring and using Tango as a light source but because they arent putting down torches they get lost and a creeper blows up in their face and injures them and they have to make their way back to the other members of the polycule and its all a very daunting task and just. hhhh.

#Asks #atherix #Sector AU #Poly ZITS #Solidango #Hermitshipping #Trafficshipping

[c-kiddo]

You’re very very right about the lack of diversity in character design, esp thinking about it in regards to CR3. Like Laudna is clearly meant to be a lot more willowy and uncanny looking than she’s shown in the character art. & the many many issues w/ Ashton’s design aside [I just,,Don’t like his design much. There was potential buts it’s just. Eh., it’s weak], it makes like zero sense for him to look the way he does being a barbarian!! Not that he has to be huge & all by any means, but he does not read barbarian aside from his big ol hammer :p

(trigger warning for talking about weight and body size/type in regards to character designs. also disclaimer that this is just talking about designs for fun, its /lh and just my musings)

i honestly quite like laudna's design overall, i think its hard to tell though, how thin she is, since she's very covered up. i actually really love her face and how her teeth dont quite fit in her mouth, which is something common with very underweight people, and i like her big dark eyes. ... i find her hard to draw quite right tho. and i think (no offense /g) in the fandom is really where people smooth her out, take away any wrinkle, and just make her kind of pretty and soft... like, no, i want her skin to be translucent. show me the veins in her eyelids!!!!

yea. . ashton's design is rly not my favourite. i redesigned him, which, i no longer rly like that drawing, mostly because of how i drew their hair. recently i've been trying to figure out how to draw the crystals even tho the idea makes my skin crawl a little lol. the main problem i have with their design is the colours - their clothes are similar values, a dark grey and a Bright red, and it just clashes with the purple and specific green of their skin .. in this last drawing of ashton i posted i think it's sorta better while still keeping the same colours, so theres that - also i think darker colours fits his character more, down in the shadowy alleys and bars of jrusar. also yea, not a fan of how totally shredded and sinewy he is, he needs to hydrate lol

my least favourite of the cr3 designs is between them and imogen though..i redesigned imogen recently and that was so much fun. i just think , her canon design doesn't suit her at all.. it's just a bit nothing-y, like a generic tomb-raiding (yikes) video game protagonist. and i think a hat suits her super well, since as well as mind-reading she has migraines and prefers to go unseen, so, she shades herself from the sun and staring with the hat.. also i just covered her up more so she wouldn't get sunburnt kajndks, its all light materials.. im just worried about her skin. also thought something a little more,, idk androgynous (??) practical (??) might be cool. like, she's got her waist-coast and her hat and bandana round her neck.. so turned her from sexy tomb-raider halloween costume to a cowboy, like her backstory is clearly inspired by :-] !! idk thats a ramble, i should catch up on cr3 i love imogen v much she has so much autism swag and she's so cool 2 me

#asks #ok .. thaats lots. i lov talking abt this thing apparently #yeehaw . #also i just rly love th idea of imogens hair in braids for some reason .. otherwise it looks too modern almost ? #and also her hair loose is just impractical . . also i love braids

[justablah56]

*sighs* tell me about your fursona /lh /pos

ok first off- Vik is that you 👁️👁️ you're the only one who I know has seen my fursona recently sbjsjdjs either that or it's rae who saw it on your blog and didn't interact w it so I wouldn't think it was him if they went on anon lmao- but methinks its vik

okay now I'm gonna actually answer- bUT INSERT THAT ONE ENTRAPTA MEME- THE "IVE WAITED Y E A R S FOR SOMEONE TO ASK ABOUT MY THEORIES" YEAH THATS ME RN- anon I am looking at you with my big ol autistic eyes that are sparkling with this 10 minute unstoppable rant that is about to occur (✧⁠ω⁠✧⁠)

SO ! ampen right ? my little guy ? my baby girl ? my beloved ? I'm gonna talk mostly abt their physical design than their other details bcs I have more notes abt their physical appearance than anything :]

I have no idea what they are, I kinda just started drawing her abhdjsjsj but I think the two most notable animals he could conceivably be are probably a fox and a dragon of some sort (original I know) however I do want to give an honorable mention to my first draft of them, bcs goddamn I changed a lot abt her bsjdhsjjs. at first he was just completely a dog but I decided to give them those 3 fingered claw/hoof things, here's the very sketchy guy herself who inspired Ampen:

yeah snndjsn basically the only thing that stayed the same was the vague color scheme and the "hooves" changed from the hands to the feet. a lot of ampens physical design was just cool things I saw in other fursuits that I thought would be cool, like I just loooove the hoof feet, they look v cool and I just like them a lot, so I included them ! (I didn't in my first real drawing of ampen but then I did on their character sheet) same with the tail, I'm p sure at the time of ampens actual creation I had recently seen a dragon fursuit with that kind of tail and was obsessed with it, I tried so many different tails for him and none of them were looking quite right until I tried their current tail, and I love it . the dragon bit also comes out in her muzzle, it's a bit more pointed and sharp than a canine muzzle would be, again mostly just bcs I think it looks neat :] and I knew I wanted my fursona to have big ol ears from the very beginning, I didn't put them on ampen-rough-draft bcs I didn't start with the intent for him to be my fursona sbjdjdjs but anyways- the fur pattern took me a while to come up with, I started with just vague splotches of color in random spots, messed around with specific colors, I don't think I decided on the pink stitch mark things until like- the very end dnjsjjd I have no idea where I came up with it , I was just trying random things and hoping they looked right lmao-

I gave them glasses bcs . I have glasses . and I think it's cute and there aren't enough furrys with glasses :3 then added the piercings bcs I think they look cool and that's really it bajshjejskwks

anyways , now for the couple things that aren't visible on a drawing, I imagine her being like 5'4 MAX , he's pretty short . mostly bcs I am v short and plan to actually make ampen, and that's a height I could realistically get to accounting for the ears hdjwjdjjejdke anyways, I don't really have many other little facts about them since they're basically just me personality-wise, so make of that what you will ! I will however GLADLY answer more specific questions if you (or anyone else 👀) have them bcs it will give me an excuse to come up with answers abhdjsjdjsjjd

anyways- this is all to say that I'm in love with Ampens design and I really should draw him more often and also probably just develop them more tbh- BUT ! ty v much anon for enabling me to ramble about Ampen, they're my most specialest little guy and I love her <33

#just blahs #ampen oc #oc ampen #tee hee thank you anon <3 #furry oc #furry community

[cartoonrival]

you might have talked about this before, but I'd love to know what the Chaotix are like in your AU! I miss the archie crew so bad

YAAA so the whole gang is knux, js, mighty, ray, charmy, espio, and vector. charmy hasn’t gotten back from his colony in my archie reading so idk saffron yet, but considering her position in the story as charmys fiancé and that my version would def have charmy still be 6 (and not a prince), i’m not currently planning on including her but idk maybe her character will really speak to me and ill find a way to rewrite her backstory and fit her in another way.

mighty and ray’s meeting story is a little different, i still like the idea of ray not having any living family left and mighty rescuing him, but instead of the whole prison camp thing i think ray was a survivor in a roboticized town that the chaotix visited (without needing to deal w the echidnaopolis/dingos/good-god-what-is-that debacles they would prob be a bit closer tied to the freedom fighters, but i still Do want to give them their own unique facet of the story instead of just ffs version2. still a wip.). maaaaaybe ray reminds mighty of tilly and thats part of the reason why he takes ray in, but tbh i’m not a big fan of the whole “i only (started to) care about this person because they remind me of someone else i loved.” especially in light of rays anxiety about mighty getting tilly back and being scared tilly would replace him. so still not set in stone why mighty would decide to invite ray to join them. maybe it was just his big ole eyes. he looked very polite

something i kinda wanna explore is the origins of the detective agency, i don’t think id try to involve everyone in it though. it would still just be espio charmy and vector. the three of them eventually move off the island for business reasons, which would lead into why they’re so strapped for cash in a way that doesn’t seem to be affecting knuckles mighty js and ray. because the former three are actually trying to enter an at least somewhat capitalist society (sorry). i’m not sure how it would end up being those 3 specifically though or why they would decide to become detectives. i’m coming up with nearly all of this on the spot because you prompted me to even think hard about it (thank you)

charmy def only came along because when push comes to shove hes their little brother and they couldnt leave him behind, maybe it was esp and vec’s idea to begin with because they started accidentally solving cases and found they were actually good at it, and kinda similar to how they got a lot of work after the metal virus helping ppl find loved ones, they figured they could be of similar help with deroboticized mobians, and the other four just respectfully declined (knux and js for obvious reasons, and mighty just didnt think he was cut out for that sort of thing. and ray is sticking w mighty).

js and knux are def the two most tightly rooted to the island, but js is more prone to cabin fever than knuckles is so she does leave pretty often. usually she tries to get knuckles to come with her and someone else will watch the emerald, but even though knuckles DOES trust his friends he gets kinda antsy if hes away from it for too long or too often, so a lot of the time she leaves by herself or with someone else. archie!chaotix kind of put the story in a position where knuckles didnt have to worry about the master emerald quite as much because he had a bunch of friends who lived on the island and could cycle through guard duty when he wasnt there. it wasnt a BAAAD thing per se but the emerald is such a key part of knuckles character that i feel like if he no longer has to bear that weight alone then the core of his character is lost a bit ToT if you know what im saying. so i dont want him to be quite so willing to just let someone else handle it.

im on the fence about espio's spy backstory w the shinobi, i enjoyed READING it but idk if id want to carry through with it. the idea of him learning stuff that he just keeps from people could be recycled somehow though

#sth #asks157 #THANK YOU FOR ASKING! #jstt157

[shads-shipposts]

Cards and Comfort: Anachronism Snapshot

Admittedly, my fic Anachronism is a big ol' mess. Truly, it is in shambles (just like my mental state). However, some scenes are relatively put together. Such as this one that I wrote back in late 2020 during a depressive episode. Other than some very minor tweaking, this hasn't really been touched. But I want to post something with the KaraCrew, and thus y'all get this lovely little thing. It isn't much, only 1.3k words, but there is a truly abysmal lack of KaraCrew content that isn't tied to Tintin, so this is my remedy. A self indulgent comfort fic staring my oc Shadow and sailors Neil, Hobbs, Geitch, and Eckhart (pilot in brown clothes). As Anachronism takes place before my Clone Wars series, Shadow is 19 here. For obvious reasons, they don't sleep near the rest of the crew and usually crash in Tom or Allan's cabin since those two have their own rooms.

Enjoy~

CW: Language, depressive episode, worries of being a burden.

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Halting just shy of the open doorway, I swallowed hard. What if they got mad? What if they sent me away? What if they let me in but were passive aggressive about it? Hell, that last one would be even worse. 

But it would be even worse to sit in Tom’s cabin alone, thoughts spiraling out of control. 

I’d just have to take the risk.

Stepping into the doorway to the rec room, I blinked against the light and scanned the room to see who was there. Eckhart, Geitch, Neil, and Hobbs. At least it was two of my favorite sailors aside from Tom. 

It took them a while to notice me, but Eckhart’s eyes finally raised and the man did a small double take. “Kid? Thought you were asleep?” 

At his comment, Neil and Hobbs twisted in their chairs to face me.

“Hey, Shortie. Whatcha doin’ wanderin’ ‘round this late?” Neil asked. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” I said with a shrug, arms wrapped around myself as I braced against the rolling of the ship. 

“Kevin botherin’ ya? I’ll send ‘im off if ya need me to,” Neil offered. 

I shook my head. “Ain’t that. Just restless. Y’all mind if I sit in and watch?” I asked tiredly. 

They glanced at each other and I worried they would refuse. Well… guess if they did the top of the wheelhouse was an option. 

“Nah, c’mon ov’r ‘ere,” Hobbs said, jerking his head at the seat between him and Neil. 

My shoulders sagged in relief. “Thanks, you won’t even know I’m here,” I assured them, walking over and sliding into the seat between the two men. Taking care not to brush any of them, I slowly exhaled. Best not to draw any more attention to myself than I already had. 

The card game continued on, but I could tell they were occasionally glancing at me. Well, good thing I couldn’t really feel worse than I currently did. 

Neil bumped my elbow and I moved it to give him more space. Surely I wasn’t taking up that much room. Compared to the AB I was pretty damn small. He called me “Shortie” for a reason. 

He did it again, but moved slower and didn’t so much bump my elbow as nudge it. Beneath the numbness and crushing exhaustion, curiosity sparked. What was this man up to? 

When his elbow brushed mine again, I left it there. He pressed his against mine but continued on with the game. His skin was quite warm, and despite the small area of contact, the touch sent a feeling of ease through me and slowly forced the tension out of my shoulders. A strong leg pressed against mine, further driving away the agonizing emptiness. Releasing a long breath once more, I shifted closer to the man. I waited, tense, for him to move away but he stayed where he was. Giving a mental ‘fuck it’, I leaned against him. 

The men must have been subtly watching, because they immediately commented on my unusual behavior. 

“Hey kid, what’s eatin’ ya?” Geitch asked from across the table. 

It took some effort, but I managed to raise my eyes to his. “Eh, I’ll be fine in a few.”

“Wasn’t the question,” Eckhart remarked, raising an eyebrow.  

“Aye, somethin’s buggin’ ya,” Hobbs added, twisting in his chair to look at me while still hiding his cards from Eckhart. 

I dropped my eyes. “Nothin’s wrong.” 

“Bullshit.” Neil nudged me with his leg. “You don’t mope like this.”

I shook my head. “Y’all don’t get it. Literally nothing is wrong. My brain just… malfunctions at times.”

“Malfunctions?” 

“We got a happy chemical our brain is supposed to produce. Sometimes my brain says ‘Fuck you, chemical machine broke’ and quits on me for an hour or two. It’s jacked enough already, but it can get really bad,” I managed.

“Sounds like hell,” Geitch commented. 

I huffed. “No shit, man. Fuckin’ sucks ass and swallows.”

The men chuckled. “Least you keep your foul mouth,” Hobbs teased, punching my arm. 

“Oh, that gets worse durin’ this.”

“Good outlet,” Eckhart laughed. 

“Guess it can be,” I shrugged, before sighing and dropping my eyes to the table again. 

The weak reply seemed to sober the men a little. 

“Should we get Tom?” Geitch asked, shifting to get out of his seat. 

“No!” I yelped, panic spreading across my face. “Last thing I need is to burden more people with this.”

My fearful response only got them more worried.

“You clearly aren’t doin’ good, kid,” Neil pointed out. “Wouldn’t Tom help?”

“He’s on duty right now. I’m not botherin’ him,” I stressed, shaking my head. “Just… can you get back to the card game? I’d have stayed away if I knew I’d bother y’all this much.”

They exchanged glances with each other. 

Shit, I knew I was bothering them! I shifted and went to slide out of the seat to leave them alone, but Neil’s heavy arm across my back and shoulders pushed me back down into the seat. 

“Ya aren’t botherin’ no one,” he growled. “Said ya can stay, so sit.”

I held his gaze for a moment before settling back into the chair. “If you’re sure.”

“Wouldn’t say it if we weren’t,” Hobbs remarked, shifting back to face the others at the table. 

“Y’all ain’t the type to hold your tongues on anythin’ that’s for sure,” I huffed, salt forming a crack in the prison wall. 

Neil squeezed my shoulder. “Right.” 

I expected him to remove his arm to continue the game, but the heavy limb stayed where it was, fingers tapping absentmindedly to the faint music playing over the radio.  

Slowly exhaling once more, I hesitated before shifting so my side rested against his. The faint rhythm of the radio coupled with the creaking and rolling of the ship coaxed me further and further towards sleep again.

But would I be safe sleeping around them? They were sailors after all. Even if I was fairly close now with Neil and Hobbs, and none of these men in particular had done anything sketchy, I just couldn’t be 100% sure. Could pretend to be asleep and see how they react.

Closing my eyes, I waited a few moments before letting my head roll to the side against Neil. 

“They fall asleep?” Neil asked. 

“Not so loud, idiot, you’ll wake ‘em up,” Hobbs hissed. 

“What do we do?” Geitch asked. “Carry ‘em back to Tom’s cabin?”

“That would also wake them up,” Eckhart pointed out. 

“I’m comfortable, just leave ‘em and let ‘em sleep,” Neil said, pulling me closer to him. 

“Softie,” Hobbs teased. 

“Am not.” 

“Look atcha, lettin’ the kid sleep on ya.”

Neil snorted. “You’d do the same.”

“They’re kinda cute when they’re asleep and not threatenin’ us with violence,” Geitch commented with a short laugh. 

“Hey, they’re nineteen,” Neil growled. “You’re thirty two. Back off.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, cockhead,” Geitch shot back. “You know I see ‘em as a sibling, same as you! Didn’t mean anything weird by it!”

“Hope not,” Eckhart said. “They’re not asleep. Saw them twitch at your comment.”

The men were quiet before Hobbs ventured, “Kid? You sleepin’ or not?” 

“I’m tryin’ if that’s any consolation,” I muttered. 

“Figured ya passed out since you’re pressed against me like this and ya aren’t cuddly awake,” Neil said, adjusting his arm.

“Just go back to the game and let me doze. Warmth and pressure helps keep the sad at bay,” I mumbled. “And I do like hugs, thank you very little. I just don’t know the vibe for them within this hotbed of masculinity.” 

As Eckhart snorted in amusement, Hobbs asked, “Can ya even sleep with us talkin’?”

“Right now no. So start gamin’,” I huffed.

“Sir yes sir,” he chuckled. 

I rolled my eyes. “Smartass,” I muttered, situating myself again. Exhaling slowly, I closed my eyes and let the low music, swaying of the ship, muted voices, and warmth and weight of Neil’s arm lull me back to sleep. 

I just hoped Tom wouldn’t freak when he got back to the cabin and I wasn’t there. 

#karaboudjan #writing #Anachronism #tom karaboudjan #neil karaboudjan #hobbs karaboudjan #geitch karaboudjan #eckhart karaboudjan #tintin 2011

[bokubear]

going on trips w/ hq boys

featuring ; ( timeskip! ) bokuto kotarou, iwaizumi hajime, osamu miya, suna rintarou

warnings ; a very lazy sunarin

notes ; the pink theme is so unusual for me, i hope you guys like it ! ♡

✻BOKUTO has definitely shown up to your front door carrying a suitcase whilst a bright yellow backpack is strapped around each shoulder, waking you up bright and early for an “adventure !” he exceeds in the idea of ‘who needs preparation when it’s an adventure !’ .. a difficult child at that. “kou, we can’t leave to australia at 7 o’ clock in the morning barely dressed and no plane tickets. you proceeded to explain to him the process of traveling overseas, especially the ‘going on a plane’ portion in pajamas. “but why not ? i bet i could swim there though.” he pouted at your laughter easily aimed towards him, beckoning him inside the house. “i promise we can go to australia together some day, but we need to plan first.” cue more pouting.

✻IWAIZUMI, while on his journey to the us to meet a notorious volleyball prodigy had taken you with him. disliking the massive span of time he’d be away from you left no other choice. he becomes an ultimate mother, he checks all the passports, makes sure you have all the necessities you need and makes a beeline to each gate in a matter of seconds. if you just so happen to nervous on the plane, he’ll scoop your fingers between his, big ol’ hands warm and comforting, he’ll probably hold your hand regardless. once you both anticipate just how long of a plane ride it is, it’s an automatic prep of ‘the first day we’ll head to the hotel just to lay in bed for hours’ because that’s exactly what’s going to happen. also, if you’re tired, he is the best pillow ever.

✻OSAMU doesn’t really have to stress traveling. actually, i headcanon him to own a foodtruck that he drives all around japan, almost a pop-up shop ran by the chef himself. trust me, you’ve been everywhere with the cook. “where to next darlin’?” speaking from wheel expectantly. “let’s go to the elementary school nearby ! can we please drop off some onigiri to them ?” you plead, eyes rounded with a innocent intention. “without payin’? that’s what this truck ‘s all about !” he huffs, observing how you fiddled with hem of your shirt pitifully—and a heavy sigh later you’re at the front of school, children left and right enjoying random assortments of onigiri. a boy missing his front tooth walks up to the truck, eyes gleaming. “thank you for the onigiri mister.” whilst bowing, osamu’s brows lift. “if ya got anyone to thank it’s her, she convinced me.” he chuckles, a hoard of kids coming to thank you. “cute kids.”

✻SUNA is and always had been quite picky. he dislikes most trips, preferring to stay home unless that trip consists as a run to the convenience store nearby where he can buy snacks. of course, he insists that traveling is a waste of his time, but when he really gets into the trip, he loves it. that usual flat face now broken into a fit of giggles or smiles that fill his chest with a glow. he took you to italy for your anniversary, and i cannot tell you how in love he looked, dancing with you in the mist of the moonlight while adorning a grin like no other. he’d never admit it, but that was one of the best moments of his life. the most amusing part of all of your trips is how much the natives love him. no matter where he goes he gains stares and attention constantly. however he barely notices, it’s hilarious.

-maak

plagiarism, repost, and editing is prohibited

#hqxreader #haikyuuxreader #hq #maakwrites. #osamu miya #osamu fluff #osamu x reader #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna fluff #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi fluff #bokuto kotarou #bokuto koutarou #bokuto kotaro #bokuto x reader #bokuto fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! fluff

[tulsa-trash]

I usually don’t read the outsiders fanfiction but yours is so good that I can’t resist! just dropping by to say that + I hope you’re doing well and may I request a Dallas Winston fluffy headcanon/imagine? thank u so so much

I’m doing great! Hope you’re doing good as well :D thanks for reading!

WARNING(S): Mentions of violence, swearing

Most teenagers would be thrilled if they got their house all to themselves for a weekend, but not you. Being alone in your big, empty house frightened you quite a bit. Especially when you were curled up on your couch watching a scary movie with all of the lights off. 

You found yourself cowering deeper into the blanket you had covering your body, the movie was now at a very intense scene. The killer was slowly sneaking behind his victim, the music getting louder and louder with every step he took. He grabbed the women and stabbed her in the chest, a shrill cry erupted from the TV just as you heard a loud bang come from your front door. 

"AHH!" You cried out. 

"Y/N?" A muffled voice called for you.

With shaking legs you got up off the couch and turned the lights back on, you sent the black and white television a dirty look.

"Ugh, why did I even watch that in the first place." You scolded yourself. 

More banging came from the front door, you glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. Who could possibly be knocking at your door this late at night? You grabbed the fire poker from near the fireplace and tiptoed to the front hallway. 

"W-Who is it?" You asked while readying your weapon by holding it up above your shoulder.

"For cryin' out loud, its Dallas! Open the door!"

You sighed in relief and unlocked the door for your boyfriend. You could barely make out his tall silhouette, it was too dark. He quickly brushed past you without saying a word. You rolled your eyes and closed the door behind him, locking it in the process. When you turned, Dallas was no where in sight.

"Dal?"

"Bathroom."

You walked up to your bathroom door and waited for him to get out. 

"The hell is all the screamin' about? I could hear you wailin' all the way from down the street." He said from the other side of the door.

"Yeah... About that..." You face palmed yourself and shook your head. "I was just watchin' a scary movie. The girl was yellin' a lot."

His signature, taunting laugh sounded out, "Yeah babe, sure it was the TV."

You lightly kicked the door, "Well it is really scary, Dal. Now would ya come out already? You haven’t even told me why you’re here."

The door swung open, revealing the smug and cocky Dallas Winston you've come to know so well. Only he had a fresh busted lip, a swelling black eye, and a unlit cigarette dangling from his lips.

"What the hell happened to you?" You asked him worriedly. 

“Since when do I need a reason to come see my girl?” He ignored your question and lit his cigarette.

“Dallas.” You whined. 

"The other guy looks worse, trust me... why do you have a fire poker?"

You groaned loudly and decided not to answer that question. You grabbed his hand and lead him to the living room, forcing him to sit on the couch.

 "That desperate to start foolin' around, huh Y/N?" He teased suggestively whilst grabbing your hips.

You aggressively pushed his hands away before returning the fire poker to it's stand. You then rushed to the bathroom to get your first aid kit from under the sink. Upon your return he was casually leaned back on the couch, exhaling a big cloud of smoke. 

"No smoking in the house." You scolded before snatching the cancer stick out of his mouth. You crossed the room to your father’s ash tray and put it out. 

"Why are you still actin' like a goody two shoes? Your parents ain't even around." He huffed.

"Well maybe I don't want them to come back to the house smellin' like smoke!" You sassed. “They’ll think it was me and they’ll skin me alive.”

You made your way back to him and handed him his half-smoked weed, he took it and placed it back in his carton. As you cleaned his wounds, Dallas went on and on about how good the fight was and how he beat the guy senseless. Once you got to cleaning up his knuckles he was going into detail about how messed up the guys face was, which made you sick to your stomach.

"Dal." You finally cut him off. "All of these details yet you still failed to tell me why you even got into a fight in the first place."

"Ah, that ain't important." He shrugged. 

"Yes it is." You insisted. "I know you love fightin' but I highly doubt you almost killed this guy just for the hell of it."

There was a moment of silence that fell between the two of you, you glanced up from his hands to look at him. He was blankly staring at the wall, expressionless. He was good at that, hiding everything he was thinking or feeling. But you knew better.

"Dallas." You said his name softly, making him turn back to you. "Why?"

"The guy was talkin' about ya." He confessed. "There. You happy now?"

"What do you mean he was talkin' about me?"

"I'm not gonna tell you every f*cking thing he said, man. I sure as hell wasn't gonna let him get away with it." He spat.

"Were you jealous or somethin'?" You asked. 

He rolled his eyes, "The guy was disrespectin' ya, babe. Obviously I wasn't gonna sit there and listen to it."

You placed the first aid kit on the end table then climbed up onto his lap, straddling his waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a light kiss on his bruised cheek.

"You're not mad?" Confusion was laced into his deep voice.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, "No, I'm not."

You felt his hands rest on the small of your back, making goosebumps flood over your entire body.That was always your natural reaction to any of his soft gestures, you cherished these moments as if it would be the last time he'd do it.

"Thank you."

"What?"

"Thank you, Dal. I don't know what those boys were saying about me but I'm glad you stuck up for me." You told him sincerely.

"Jeez, kid. Don't get all sappy on me now." You could hear the smirk in his voice.

You lifted your head up from his shoulder to look at him, raising one eyebrow. "Sappy? Let's not forget you were the one that got into fist fight over me."

Dallas snickered, "Gettin' all cocky now, huh?"

You nodded your head, "What can I say, its not everyday a girl got the ‘Big ‘Ol Bad’ Dallas Winston wrapped around her finger."

"Oh really?" He raised his thick eyebrows.

"Yeah, really!" 

He swiftly threw you off of his lap, making you land on your back beside him on the couch. You began to laugh hysterically, one hand holding your stomach while the other tried to cover the loud guffaws leaving your mouth. Dallas got on top of you and pinned both of your arms on either side of your head.

"Y-You were jealous!" You sputtered.

"Was not." He grumbled.

"Were too!" 

He sighed and let go of your arms, you giggled as you looked up into his dark brown eyes. "Don't tell the gang."

"No promises."

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders dally #the outsiders imagine #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders fluff #the outsiders fic #dallas winston #dally winston #dally x reader #dallas winston x reader #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston fanfiction #dally fic #matt dillon

[gaiuswrites]

Thread the Needle | Yoga!Din

Pairing: Modern!Din x Yoga Instructor!Reader

Rating: Explicit (minors, goodbye)

Word count: 3.5k~

Warnings/tags: Yoga!Din (yes, he gets his own warning), hurt/comfort, language, smut, good ol' fashioned cunnilingus, piv

Notes: ✨ HI FRIENDS ✨ Yoga!Din rides again. This idea has been stewing (pun intended, you'll get it later) in my dumb brain for a while now and I've finally decided to write it. Technically, this takes place a little farther into the future (perhaps when the pair is more of an item, and less of a fuckbuddy fling, but thorough plot? We don’t know her). Anyways, enjoy! Cheers x

He doesn’t mean to be dramatic, but it’s the most agonizing sixty minutes of his goddamn life.

He’s seated on his mat, legs folded into a fucking pretzel—lotus pose, a calm voice inside his head corrects—and he’s steaming.

She isn’t here.

He is—Din, for all his faults, showed the fuck up to class but she didn’t, and in her place there’s some smelly old bat, this woman’s wrinkly ass – sits bones – plunked down at the front of the studio— occupying her spot, where she should be.

His eyes stalk the movements of this other woman as she putters around the studio—the godawful stench of something earthy wafting behind her— and it looks wrong. It feels wrong; like a violation somehow—of the space.

Of their space.

“The light in me recognizes the light in you,” they all utter in unison like a fucking hippie cult, and he books it out of there, swiping his mat up with an aggressive slap and rolling it under his arm.

“Hey,” he calls out, pacing towards the front desk. The receptionist— Riley? Kylie? Din can never remember—glances up from her phone, bright eyed.

Poor thing.

“Who the fuck is that?” He jabs his thumb over his shoulder towards the studio, the gaggle of ladies trickling out of it already gossiping and clucking away. Din doesn’t mean to sound accusatory; he doesn’t mean to be this intense. It’s not this girl’s fault, he knows that— but she’s in proximity and she’s shit out of luck.

“M’sorry?” she sputters, blinking up at him.

Breathe, that same voice coos—he can feel the tickle of it behind his ear.

“Our usual Wednesday instructor,” Din begins again, clipped. “Where is she?”

“Oh," she shrugs, "she called in sick.”

With a furrowed brow he pitches forward, craning over the desk. “Is she okay?”

The girl— Miley? —all but flinches back from him, a quizzical expression wormed onto her. “Uhm, yeah she has the flu—nasty one, too, but she’ll probably be back by ne-"

Din doesn’t linger long enough for her to finish. He’s wheeled around, striding from the building, the tinny chime of the bell ringing out as the door creaks closed behind him. The women exchange waggling glances in his wake, tittering in mouthwatering delight—more juicy fodder for their post-yoga soiree.

///

He doesn’t remember driving there. He made a quick stop to the grocery store— their grocery store, now— to pick up what he needed and before he knows it, he’s at her front door, bringing his fist down upon it in hard raps.

He hears movement—can sense it there, can practically imagine it: her lithe body tip toeing over— no, she’s got the flu, maybe it’s more of a shuffle—and peeking through the peephole. There’s a weighty pause and then—

The slow, dubious clicks of unbolting locks, the turning of a handle, the yawn of the wood as it opens.

Her voice is made small with disbelief and exhaustion. “Din?”

“Can I come in?”

She cracks the door ajar, standing in the frame of it now, a thick blue comforter slung over an arm, and she can’t quite mask the stupefied look etched onto her face.

He’s never done this. She’s never done this. He’s been to her place twice—three times, if he counts them fucking in the car in her driveway—and he’s certainly never showed up unannounced.

“Uhm, I-”

“Great.”

Din pushes past her, plastic bag swinging heavy at his side.

“W-What?”

She’s left gaping, mouth and eyes opened incredulously, ogling the way he struts through her entryway, before finally having the wherewithal to close the door. “Hey, what are you-”

“You need to keep your fluids up,” he says roughly—as if it’s obvious—making a beeline towards the kitchen.

She follows after him, bunching the throw snuggly around her shoulders. “Din,” she utters feebly, “I really don’t think you should be here right now.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Please, I don’t wanna get you sick."

He thunks the bag onto the granite countertop, producing two cans.

She doesn’t know why she bothers, it’s not like he’s listening to her anyways. If she’s learned anything about Din Djarin, it’s that he’s nothing if not stubborn—impossibly immovable. He’s tossed his jacket off, slinging it over the island, a determined glint in his eye as he prowls around the kitchen, opening cupboards at random.

“Seriously, I don’t want you catching this. I feel like shit… Oh my god, I look like shit,” she groans in realization, burying her head in the blanket, hermitting herself away.

“You look fine,” he replies gruffly, delving through the drawers in search of a can opener.

Frumpy sweats and a baggy t-shirt with some faded logo on it that’s absolutely hanging off her. Hair tossed up and sloppy, coiled into a loose bun, errant pieces rebelling every which way. A little pale, maybe. Tired eyes. Messy.

Beautiful, he meant. She looks fucking irritatingly beautiful.

Din continues to rifle through her cabinets and he exhales in frustration, “Jesus, where do you keep your pans?”

“Bottom right,” she points begrudgingly.

He grunts, finding one big enough and sets it down on the stove.

She can’t stop fussing over him; making comments here and there, asking if he wants anything, needs anything—water, kombucha, tea, a beer, a snack—if she can help in any way possible—and it nearly sends him over the damn edge.

“Would you quit it and just let me take care of you?” he grits out, and her mouth clamps shut with a pop.

She’s quiet after that, picking anxiously at a thread poking out from the blanket she wears like a shawl—observing as he empties the cans into a large pot, lights the gas stove, and brings it to a boil. She gives him space, stationing herself by the kitchen table, leaning a hip into one of the four chairs there.

Honestly she does try to keep to herself; she tries to accept what Din is doing for her, but she can’t help it. As soon as she sees him ladling the soup into one of her favorite cups—it looks so tiny in his grasp— and bringing it over to her like a goddamn patron saint, she breaks.

“You really didn’t have to do all this.”

“Yeah well, you need to get healthy so you can take your class back from that fucking fossil.”

“Din,” she admonishes.

“Baby,” he gives her a pointed look and she gnaws at the inside of her cheek, a blush blotting her clavicle. “She fucking smells. Now sit your pretty little ass down-”

“But-”

He presses a hand to her shoulder, forcing her to sink into the chair with a soft oomf, and places the bowl in front of her. “Don’t fight me on this. Drink the fucking soup.”

She huffs, glancing down, and then back up to Din.

“Progresso?”

He grunts.

She blows at the steam rising from the hot liquid. “Chicken noodle?”

Din crosses his arms over his chest and plops back onto the island.

“Classic,” she praises, mumbling into it.

She loathes to admit it, but the first sip tastes like heaven. It soothes her raw vocal chords, worn hoarse from nights of coughing, and seeps deep to warm her cold bones.

Din remains mute through the whole affair, staring owlishly as she spoons it down, slurp for slurp, until he’s satisfied she’s finished. When she does, she arches an eye brow at him— mouth pressing into a thin line. Happy now?

He tips his head and pads over to her.

“Wait, no you don’t have to-" He swipes it from the table, the spoon clanking against the ceramic rim. Din moves to the sink and she groans.

“Just leave it,” she whines, but he ignores her—stubborn stubborn stubborn— he’s already got soap on the sponge and the water running. Again, she huffs and rises to her feet, hem of the blanket trailing behind her.

“Thank you,” she gives in a hushed tone.

It’s so strange— being taken care of in her own place. She doesn’t know what to do, where to go. It’s ill-fitting, foreign, and she can only hover there, buzzing like a pesky insect beside him.

He’s wiping the dish off with a towel when he chances a peek back at her, practically stuttering when he does.

She’s swaddled in that fucking quilt, awkward and impossibly sincere and precious just standing there—watching him play house in her home. A brush of color has sprung up on her cheeks—more light in her eyes, too—and Din, try as he might, can’t pry himself off her.

She’s sick—she’s sick and gorgeous and he wants her. He wants her to feel better, he wants to fuck her, he wants to hold her. He’s overcome with it.

He swallows.

Fuck.

He abandons the bowl and rag in the drying rack and turns to her, her eyes widening, glassy and bloodshot, as he tucks a stray hair behind her ear— knuckles trailing down her jaw.

“Din…”

Her tongue skips over her lip—mocking him—damp and full and begging to be taken by his own, and her breath catches as he drags a thumb across that plump flesh, enrapt with the way her mouth parts so effortlessly for him—so fucking supple. Din’s gut twists and his blood thickens in his veins—the air between them rippling with something velvet and carnal.

He takes a step towards her. Her throat bobs.

“You’re gonna get sick,” she pouts in protest, rutting her palm into his chest, but there’s no fight in it. The blanket slips from her shoulders, hitting the ground with a dulled splat.

“Din,” she tries again, “I don’t want you to-"

He leans in, cradling her cheek, murmurs fanning over her face. “I’ll risk it.”

And he dissolves the gap, sealing her mouth with his in a tender kiss. It’s almost chaste at first, how they rove tentative and unhurried over each other—an innocent exploration— all until his tongue darts out to touch along her lip and she whimpers into him, letting Din dip into the dark cavern of her mouth. She tastes warm, like comfort and broth and rainy days, and he sighs as she brings her hands up to weave into his hair.

Neither of them fight for dominance like this—their tangle of soft sounds is perfectly balanced— Hatha; effort and ease, breath and body. He pushes, she relents—she surges forward, Din bends. They dance like this, slow as tar, until she catches his bottom lip between her teeth and tugs.

It’s like a switch has been flipped.

He seethes, inhaling sharply as his hands slide possessive and greedy down her body, grabbing fistfuls of her waist hidden under all the oversized layers, and crushing her into him. She’s making these airy noises, panting and urgent and fuck if it doesn’t tear him apart—viscerally, from the inside out.

Din walks her backwards, step for choreographed step, foxtrotting until she bumps into the kitchen table. He breaks away from the kiss to reach past her, frantically pushing away the unopened mail and receipts and loose change, the jingling of her keys cutting through the wanton quiet as they clang onto the tile, and he hitches her up to sit there with one fell swoop.

“I wanna make you feel good,” he husks, inbetween the bites he’s searing onto her neck. “Please, just lie back for me sweet girl.”

“Din, I-“

He silences her with a nibble to her ear, coaxing a breathy yelp out of her. “Lie back, baby.”

It doesn’t take much convincing after that. She acquiesces, Din’s wide palm splayed on her breasts, guiding her to recline back onto the table. He makes speedy work of her sweatpants, yanking them down her legs and flinging them off to land in a crumpled heap.

He sinks to his knees, pulling the cradle of her hips to the edge of the table before parting her thighs. The gloss of her cunt, wet and glistening for him, makes his hardening cock jump up to his stomach, and she twitches as soon as the cool air brushes against her.

“Fuck me,” he groans, whispering into her heat like he’s pained, like the sight alone is torturing him—like it’s slowly but surely ending his fucking life.

Din breathes her in with a sigh, that summer fruit tang— the scent of her aching and pulsing for him— and he starts tracing up and down her inner thigh with his tongue and teeth, nibbling along the path there until he’s at her apex. He’s dimpling her pliant skin with his calloused fingertips, strong hands wrapped under her knees, keeping them splayed as he kisses along her outer lips, nipping at her hip bones, teasing everywhere but where she needs him most.

It’s devastating—debilitating—and she’s shaking now. Every muscle, every fiber of her, convulsing with anticipation—with the promise of being dissected, of being torn apart and stitched back together again. She’s already got a hand covering her mouth, muffling the sobs he’s drawing out as he toys with her— playing her like a fucking fiddle.

Din’s eyes flit up to find her like this, brow pinched tight and cries stifled, and he chuckles— he fucking laughs— heady and ambered into her legs.

“You doin’ alright up there, teach?”

“F-Fuck you,” she hisses out with a weak whine.

God, she’s fucking perfect.

“You need something, sweetheart?” He smirks— she can feel the shape of it against her thigh, the way his stubble grates along her skin— and she can only mewl, speechless. Pathetic.

“Yeah, I know what you need...” Din hums, before finally - finally - taking mercy on her.

With one single drag, he tongues a broad stripe up her slit.

The noise that rips through her sounds like she’s being strangled— it gets caught in her throat like a trapped animal in hot car— a desperate little thing clawing to get out. Her nails scrape against the wood, leaving nicks in the chestnut lacquer. Immediately, she cants up to him, searching for his mouth hungrily and Din all but obliges as he clasps onto her hips, keeping her still while he fucks into her.

He’s carving her out— hollowing her; burying himself in her folds, nosing against her mound. He laps her up in kitten licks, delving the muscle of his tongue in and out of her, leaving her weak and gasping. Din laves up and down and side to side in clever little swivels, before he reaches her clit and sucks.

Her fist shoots from her mouth to grip his wavy locks, grinding shamelessly against his face.

“O-Oh my god, Din - fuck - Din. Oh fuck oh fuck-"

He loves it when she gets like this; that serene and tranquil exterior— the one that can quell a studio full of strangers into a haze with only the sound of her voice, that voice he can’t get out of his fucking head, the one that got them into this mess in the first place— shattered, mutilated beyond recognition and all she has left is her need— her wild, unbridled need.

Her need for his tongue, for his fingers, for his dick. Din Din Din, she only wants him— only needs him.

He slips a finger into her, easing past his knuckle in one movement, and her chin tips back, crown of her head digging into the table, hair mussing against the wood grain.

Her nipples have pebbled through her shirt, her pretty feet arched and contorted, and she’s heaving - writhing - like this above him.

He adds another digit, pumping in and out, the squelch of her pussy sounding lewd and obscene and fucking divine as he grazes her clit with his teeth, pulling at it.

“Fuck-” she rasps, legs quivering on their own accord— instinct and reflex demanding she tremble— and Din moans into her sex, feeling her walls constrict around his fingers, and he curls them up as he thrusts, hitting against that spongy patch insider her that makes her vision go white.

“Din, I- I’m—"

She can’t manage the rest. Instead of words, she cries— high pitched and wounded, as if she’s barely making it out alive. Her legs clamp around his head, bracing him there, and she cums— she loses it for him— her slick coating his nose, his lips, the hair speckled around his chin. She soaks him, and it leaves Din rocking his hips and humping the fucking air— as randy as a teenager, ravenous for anything, even if it’s just the friction of his pants drawn tight around his erection.

He takes her through her orgasm, lapping at her softly until she’s warbling—a slew of nonsense babbling out of her— and he leans back on his heels to admire his work, eyes singeing into her cunt made puffy and swollen pink, fluttering at the loss of him.

He plants one final kiss to the cleft of her pussy before shifting his weight back up to his feet, slotting himself between her.

Fuck, he isn’t as young as he once was— he feels his age in the ache of his knees. All the yoga in the world can’t erase his scar tissue, can’t undo time.

But he thinks maybe—if he’ll let himself—that she makes him feel younger. Lighter.

He squeezes her calf and begins to move away when she whimpers, bolting upright to palm greedily at the bulge pressing painfully against its constraint, her fingers fidgeting with his zipper and Din— in an uncharacteristic show of strength and self restraint— gingerly clasps onto her wrists, holding her still.

“Hey,” he murmurs, and her eyes snap up to meet his. “This isn’t about me.”

“No, but-”

“You don’t- we don’t have to-"

“Din,” she pants, grabbing onto the waist of his jeans and pressing her center into him, smearing herself along the denim there, her pearled clit catching on the rough fabric. Her eyes have gone jet-black with desire, obsidian lust burning through them. “Din, fuck me. Please fuck me, plea-“

Shit.

He’s never moved so fast in his goddamn life, unbuttoning his jeans in a flash, untucking himself— throbbing, leaking already—from his briefs. He gives himself two rough jerks, his blunt tip prodding at her entrance, before pushing into her with a gasp.

Fuck, she’s warm— not just warm, she’s hot. She’s molten, and she’s milking him for all he’s worth, gripping around him, fucking strangling his cock with how wet she is—how tight. God, she’s a fucking dream—a nightmare too, undoubtedly.

“Fuck baby - shit - you’re—hnng-” He groans—can’t even form a real sentence—all of his blood has rushed out of his brain and straight to the juncture where their bodies meet.

His eyes flutter deliriously at the feeling of her stretching around him like this and for a passing, fleeting moment, he considers the fact that he should be gentle with her— that she’s not feeling well, that she’s probably sore with body chills and God knows what else and that she should rest—

But once her knees are split apart and legs spread long— so fucking flexible, fuck she’s killing him— his well-met concern all but abandons him.

He fucks her hard— so hard she falls back, that unforgiving surface bruising into her spine. He probably hurts her a little—just how he likes, just how she loves.

Din plows into her, digging into the meat of her thighs, slamming into the pussy that takes him so fucking well, the pussy that feels like it’s made for him— like she’s made for him— and the table shudders with each roll of his hips, scraping it inch by inch along the tile, knocking against the chairs with loud, clattering bangs.

“W-Wait— wait wait wait-“ she pants, hands scampering up to his arms.

He slows his thrusts until he’s stilled inside of her, worry creasing around his eyes. “W-What? Are you okay—what’s wrong?”

“T-The table," she whines, “it’s from fucking IKEA. I built this piece of shit myself— there’s no way it’s gonna stay standing with you fucking me into it like this.”

Din barks out a laugh, throaty and genuine, and for the second time today, he comes to the conclusion that she’s perfect.

“Bedroom?” she nods down the hall.

“Bedroom,” he growls before scooping her up, lifting her off the table, her legs scrambling to hook around his waist, forearms bracing around the broad plain of his shoulders.

“Din!” she squeals in surprise, “I can walk, you know.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, giving her a bounce and a light slap to her ass. “You’re sick.”

///

“Onions,” he mutters, leaden eyelids nestled shut.

He didn’t mean to stay over this long—well past sunset, later than he’s ever allowed himself—but how could he be expected to leave? After she came on his cock - twice - and he had filled her up until his cum was gushing from her, extricating himself out of this exact position of woven, spent limbs and sweat stained sheets sounded criminal.

“What?” She cranes groggily up at him.

“The sub. She smelled like onions. And patchouli.”

“Hey,” she tuts in mock offense, “Brenda is nice.”

“Good for Brenda. Doesn’t make her smell any better.”

“God, you are so rude,” she laughs, shaking her head as she nuzzles into Din’s side, lips curving into a sleepy grin against his chest—right above the aching thump of his caged heart.

Taglist (I apologize if I missed anyone!):

@radiowallet @pedros-mustache @djarinsbeskar @chasingdreamers @greatcircle79 @iamskyereads @imnotinlove-thisisnotyoursong @fan-of-encouragement @read-and-rec @helmet-comes-off @keeper0fthestars @hellabaybee @ourmotherofyearning @krissology

#yoga!din #I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL #modern!din #modern au #din djarin smut #din djarin x female oc #din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #smut #mando x fem!reader #mando x you #mando x female oc #hurt/comfort #fanfic #one shot #star wars fanfic #pedro pascal #din djarin au

[mrs-gucci]

Can you please tell us about inviting either Clyde or Flip over for a scary movie night in??? I think both of them would love it when you cuddle up to them and jump at the movie. They might each be playful enough to make you jump even more too! Smutty ending please 😉

Movie Night [blurb] {Clyde Logan x Reader}

author's notes: hello, hello! decided to choose Clyde for this one, ‘cause I was in a Clyde mood lol. I hope you like this little thing I whipped up for you, nonny! :)

warnings: fluff. smut. brief & non-descriptive references to to IT [2017]. porn w/o plot. cockwarming. some spanking. creampie.

no tw's :) 

my taglist peeps: @frank-and-honey @shygirl268​

(if you’d like to be added to my taglist, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist.)

“Are ya sure ya wanna watch this?” Clyde asks, good arm draped over your shoulder, knuckles rubbing over your arm. “I’ve heard it’s real scary. And aren’t ya afraid ‘a clowns?”

You smile guiltily. “Yeah...but this’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

He laughs.

“Mmmhmm, a movie about a Stephen King book centered around killer clowns will be ‘fine’ for a girl afraid of clowns. Uh huh. I’ll bet yer shakin’ like a lil leaf ‘n on my lap the second Pennywise shows up on-screen.”

Your hand extends. “I’ll bet ya 5 bucks I won’t even get on your lap this whole time.”

“I hope yer ready to hand yer ol’ boyfriend a crisp five.” He laughs while shaking your hand, eagerly taking your bet. “‘Cause there ain’t no way yer lastin’ this whole movie without gettin’ on ma lap.”

-

“Oh jesus.” You curse under your breath, burying your face in Clyde’s shirt. You’re determined not to climb in his lap, but damn, he was right about this fucking movie. 

He just chuckles. “I think in order fer ya to win the bet, ya gotta actually watch the movie, darlin’.”

You huff, looking up at the screen just as the clown jumps out from the projector screen. Shrieking, you leap onto Clyde’s lap, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

His mechanical fist pumps in triumph as his other hand rubs soothing circles on your back.

“I love ya ‘n all, more than anythin’, but...” He chuckles. “I told ya so.”

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes, despite the big smile on your face. “Just hold me.”

His arm wraps around you, holding you close as the movie continues. Each time there’s a jump scare, you jump a bit in his lap, which has begun to allow for a very pressing issue. 

Eventually, Clyde can’t take it anymore.

“Alright, yer done.” He lifts you up off his lap, working the button on his Wranglers.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, and you move to turn around. “Clyde, what--”

You’re met with the sight of Clyde pumping his cock, cheeks pink as he holds his breath, looking at you.

“Take yer pants ‘n panties off ‘n c’mere.” He growls, hips bucking up. “Gonna sit on m’ cock for the rest’a the movie, darlin’, and yer gon’ sit nice ‘n still fer me, ya hear me? ‘Else yer gonna get spanked ‘till ya can’t move anymore.”

You whimper, all but tearing the pants and panties down your legs before eagerly sitting back on his lap. He quickly positions himself at your entrance, grabbing both your hips as you sink down slowly onto his length.

“O-Ooohh yyyyyeah, that’s it, darlin’.” Clyde groans breathily, head falling back to rest against the couch cushion.

Your eyebrows knit as you’re impaled on his thick cock, insides stretching out with a sweet burn. You try to move, but you’re quickly met with a smack on the ass.

He leans forward, flesh hand wrapping around your neck, pulling you back against him. His breathing is hot in your ear.

“No. Movin’. If yer gon’ sit on ma lap, yer gon’ sit still fer me, alright?”

You nod, whining softly, doing your best to remain still on top of him. But, something he didn’t account for, or rather, something he forgot? That you can still clench around him without moving. 

And boy, oh boy, you use that advantage quite a bit over the next half hour of the movie.

He’s getting closer and closer by the minute as you clench and unclench around his cock. A jump scare on the screen makes you jump a few minutes later, and Clyde wastes no time in reprimanding you.

The smack! sound reverberates around the room, bouncing off the walls, and you shriek softly.

“Behave.” Clyde growls in your ear.

You nod softly, biting your lip as your cunt drips around him. God it’s sexy when he gets all dominant like this. You’re trying your very hardest not to move or clench (too tight), but when another jump scare comes along, you can’t help but do both, just for a moment.

But, nothing gets past Clyde. He smirks, swatting your ass quickly before gripping your hips. “That’s it.”

Movie now forgotten, the large man beneath you begins moving his hips, bucking up into you. Your eyebrows knit at the center of your forehead, whimpering as he fucks up into you.

“This’ll distract ya ‘nough, huh? ‘s this what ya needed, buttercup? F-Fuckin’ cunt can’t go more than an hour without gettin’ fucked. Greedy lil thang.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, walls tightening around him, orgasm clearly on the horizon. You try to ride him, to start bouncing, but your ass is quickly smacked again. 

“G-Gonna fuckin’ cum.” He growls lowly, fucking up into you faster. “Oh darlin’, ma b-buttercup, fffffuuuck!”

His hips come to an abrupt halt, head falling back as he spurts deep inside you. You rub your clit in quick, tight circles, soon bringing yourself to a soft but pleasant release. 

“Clyde, shit baby.” You moan, rubbing yourself through it.

Both of you are breathing deeply as you ride out your respective orgasms. You fall back down on his lap, shaky legs no longer willing to hold you up. He chuckles, kissing all over your face.

The ending credits begin to play and you two begin laughing together. 

“So...I guess your method of distraction worked.”

Clyde smirks. “Indeed, it did. Wanna watch ‘nother one, give this method one more try? Y’know...make sure it wasn’t just luck?”

You nod, biting your lip.

“Let’s do it.”

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