#manly feet

[differenteagletragedy]

On domesticating Simon Riley.

Simon knows people, knows how to read them and how to get what he wants out of them, in a general sense. He also knows women, their bodies and how to handle them. How to pick one out that wants the same thing he wants, how to approach them and then how to cut and run.

What he doesn't know is how to stay. How to let someone else know him, even see him. What makes a home.

So you're going to have to teach him.

He has the most minimal wardrobe you've ever seen -- a few pairs of jeans, a handful of t-shirts, a couple of hoodies and one pair of boots. After a few weeks of watching him lace up those boots every time he takes out the trash, you check them for his shoe size then order him a pair of crocs to wear around the house and when they arrive, you leave them by the door, where he keeps his boots.

"The fuck are these?" he grumbles that evening when he goes to grab the boots while you're cleaning up after dinner. They're too big to be yours, but he knows they're not his.

"I got them for you," you answer, coming to stand beside him. "Just something to wear when you need to step outside for a minute or if your little feet get cold and you wanna wear something around inside."

"I don't have ... fucking hell," he says, pointing down to the shoes. "They've got holes all in them."

"That's so you can accessorize!" you say proudly, pulling out a little bag full of charms that you picked out for him.

It's ridiculous. It looks absolutely absurd. But he wears them anyway, because he's learning that when people care about each other, they make little gestures like this, and if there's a way that he can wear your love for him around like a badge of honor, then no matter how goofy it looks, he'll be proud to do it.

Simon chews his fingernails down to the quick, a nervous habit that he's had for as long as he can remember. After catching him with a couple of bloody fingers after one particularly bad evening, you tenderly pull him into the kitchen, wash his hands and dry them, then sit him down at the kitchen table and leave for a moment, only to come back with nail polish.

"Really, love?" he asks, looking up at you with a smirk. "Gonna give me a manicure?"

You roll your eyes, pulling one of the chairs closer to him and reaching out for his hands, replying, "What, too manly to have your nails done?"

"Yeah, that's what it is," he smirks, all sarcasm, then says, "Why though?"

"It's the taste," you explain, shaking a bottle of black polish before taking the cap off and carefully leaning in to start on his right thumbnail. "The idea is that when you go to bite your nails, the polish will make it taste bitter so you stop."

He can't help but smile a little to himself as he watches you work. He doesn't care one way or the other about his nails, but it's cute, watching you so focused on him. Still, something about it nags at him, because while it feels good, having you care, it doesn't quite feel right, not all the way. Not just yet.

"Not hurting anyone with biting them," he says quietly, his eyes on his hands as you finish up.

You give a little sigh, capping the bottle before meeting his eyes, and you tell him, "You're hurting yourself. And that's not ok, not with me."

He doesn't do birthdays, not his anyway. Not in a dramatic "I hate my birthday" way, it's just not something of note to him. He knows the date, acknowledges it to himself when it comes just as a reminder that he's 40 now, not 39, nothing more. The first birthday he has with you comes after you've been together for several months, and you only hear about it after the fact.

"My sweet boyfriend," you coo at him one night in bed, a little tipsy from the wine you'd had with dinner. "My beautiful, beautiful boyfriend."

He chuckles, still marveling at how much you seem to marvel at him. Your hands are on him, gentle and doting, and he hears you giggle as you ramble on.

"Sweet and kind and handsome and strong," you say, running a hand through his hair. "He always watches out for me. He always takes care of me. My favorite person."

"You're drunk," he points out, smiling softly, cheeks red.

"Am not," you reply. "Even if I am, the truth is the truth."

You go on, praising him for everything you can think of. Pretty blonde hair, pretty smatterings of freckles, pretty dimples that only you ever get to see. It's almost unbearable, hearing how much you adore him, but in a good way. Like it's stretching something in him that's been closed for far too long.

You're breaking him in, slowly and carefully.

"Have you ever," you ask him at one point, "ever in your entire 39 years, thought that you'd get a girlfriend as thoughtful and loving as me?"

It's a playful question, but of course he's never thought that. His chest aches at the thought of just how much you've given him, and how much you let him give you in return. So instead, he dodges it.

"Not 39 anymore, sweetheart," he says softly.

Your brow furrows immediately, not understanding, and he laughs quietly, his hand on your stomach under the blankets sliding to your side to pull you closer.

"A few weeks ago," he explains.

"Your birthday was a few weeks ago?"

"It was."

"And you just ... didn't think to say anything?"

You're serious now, almost concerned, and he can't stand it.

"It's not a big deal, love," he says, leaning in to press kisses against your forehead and temple. "Just another day."

"It is a big deal," you argue, pulling back to look at him. "I would have ... I don't know, I would have gotten you something. Treated you special. Thrown a party, something."

"One, I don't like parties. Two, you treat me special everyday. Three, you've already given me more than you know, I don't need anything else."

All those things are true, but it still takes much longer than he'd like to get the frown off your face.

The next day, you ask him to run some errands for you. You need the oil changed in your car, some things from the big grocery store on the other side of town, but you need to stay home and take care of some things that need done around the house. He agrees easily. He likes taking care of you.

When he comes back later that afternoon, he goes for the kitchen, ready to put up the groceries he'd picked up, and there you are, leaning against the counter and smiling at him like you were waiting for him.

The homemade cake on the counter beside you, with candles sticking out and "Happy Birthday Simon" written in icing on top, tells him that you were.

Every time you do something like this, perform some little act of kindness that comes so naturally to you, it feels like something gets unlocked inside him. Like there have always been chains wrapped around his mind and his heart, keeping him tight and cold and alone, padlocks piling on top year after year, keeping all the hurt secure inside. But somehow you have the key, and you take your time, undoing them all.

Undoing him, completely and thoroughly, until he's open for the first time. And it's raw and new, and it hurts, but something in him knows that the pain will give way to something beautiful.

He watches as you step up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your head against his chest.

"Happy birthday, Simon," you say softly.

He can't say anything, not now, so he pulls you closer to him, strong arms cradling you against him, and you're close enough that he can feel when the corner of your mouth turns up into a smile

Another lock coming off. Another piece of proof that he can be something different, something better, with you.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

thinking about BUCKY BARNES playing with you from behind.. 18+ fem!reader, mdni. 345 words

he’d sit behind you casually, slumped against the headboard with you between his open thighs, your back lounging into his chest. your knees are bent, fluffy-socked-feet planted either side of his straightened knees. it’s lazy, it’s comfortable, it’s low effort.

his left, metal hand rests somewhere around the top of your abdomen, vibranium palm holding onto you under your oversized tee. one of your bare tits sits on his lower arm, the other held by his hand that grabs and cups and paws. an action so antsy.

his free hand hovers over the waistband of your underwear, fleshed fingers grazing across the thin thread of elastic. bucky slips a finger underneath, pad faintly skimming along your skin — the sensitivity of his touch making your thighs jitter and tremble.

he itches the rest of his hand underneath, his slightly balled fist protruding through the thin albeit dampened fabric. the tiny bow of your underwear sits atop his wrist, the contrasting sight of something so delicate against something so rugged and manly sends your mind into a tizzy. every micromovement being watched keenly by your fervid eyes.

you move a hand from its placement on his arm around your middle to his other one that’s slotted in the crease where thigh meets cunt. your grip is desperate, fingers struggling to envelope the meat of his upper wrist. you nudge his hand lower, the hold you have on him like that of a guide — directing him to what you want and where you want it.

his neck peers around you, lips finding themself placed perfectly in the dip of your right temple. a repeated, almost forceful iteration of kisses pushes your head to the side in a gentle sway, your neck exposing and growing slack, strength dissipating until it rests against the scarring on his left shoulder. 

bucky’s head ducks down, lowering into the crook of your neck where he continues the kisses — trailing them ever so faintly in lines up and down the side of your throat.

“not yet,” he whispers to you from behind. “not yet.”

⎯ ☆ ⎯

[skzzsya]

my man ?! || lee felix

ᯓᡣ𐭩 felix x fem!reader. genre : fluff & smut.

synopsis. in which your boyfriend gets mistaken for a girl but you're the only one to know how manly he is 𝜗𝜚 ⸝⸝ m.list ♡

You’d lost count of how many times people had mistaken your boyfriend for a girl. Maybe it was his soft features, the way his long hair framed his face, or the delicate way he carried himself in public.

And today it happened again, at a café. The barista, an older woman with kind eyes, had smiled warmly at him. "What can I get for you, sweetheart?" He ordered his usual, then you added yours. But before you could step away, she turned to you with an even bigger smile.

"Your girlfriend is so beautiful!" You saw it happen in real time, the moment your boyfriend’s soul left his body. His jaw clenched, fingers tightening around his wallet. You bit back a laugh, barely holding it together as the woman continued gushing.

"She has such delicate features! You’re a lucky young lady." Your boyfriend exhaled, slow and controlled. Then, without correcting her, he handed over the cash and grabbed the drinks. "Thanks," he muttered, walking away without looking back. You followed him outside, and the second the door shut behind you, you lost it.

"Your girlfriend is so beautiful" you wheezed, clutching your stomach.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "If one more person-"

"But, babe, she wasn’t wrong!~"

His head snapped toward you. "You think this is funny?"

"A little bit." You grinned. "I mean… you are beautiful." His jaw ticked.

“Oh, so you think this is funny?” His voice was dangerously calm, but the way he lifted his eyebrow told you exactly what was coming.

Your breath hitched. “A little bit.”

Felix hummed, tilting his head as he looked down at you. “Alright,” he murmured, fingers curling around your wrist.

"You better make this up to me later," he muttered.

—

The moment you stepped inside, Felix shut the door with a quiet click. The air between you shifted, slowly, he turned, expression unreadable as he gazed down at you.

"Strip." he says. Your breath caught. Felix had always been the gentle type, but when it came to this? He was careful but firm. Always soft, but never hesitating. You swallowed, hands moving to the hem of your shirt. His eyes darkened as he watched you peel it off, followed by your bra, leaving you bare under his heated gaze.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, stepping closer. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

You shivered, nodding as his hands brushed over your sides, fingers ghosting over your ribs before settling at your waist. His lips met yours in a slow, lingering kiss. Not rushed, just deliberate and sweet. His fingers traced lazy circles on your skin, pulling you against his warmth. "You laugh when people call me pretty," he whispered against your mouth, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly tone that made your knees weak.

"But I know what you really think." His hands skimmed down, pushing your pants past your hips until they pooled at your feet. You kicked them off, breath stuttering as his fingers slipped between your thighs, teasing over your clothed heat.

"Already wet," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. "You like when I prove myself to you, don’t you?" You bite your lip, nodding.

"Words, baby," he reminded you, his voice teasing.

"Yes," you exhaled.

A pleased hum vibrated from his chest. "That’s my princess."

He slid your panties down, guiding you back toward the couch until the cushions hit the back of your knees.

"Sit my love." And you did as he says. Felix knelt between your legs, eyes locked onto yours as he kissed his way up your inner thigh. His long hair cascaded over his shoulders, the strands tickling your skin as he moved.

"You always make fun of me," he murmured, warm breath fanning over your core. "But you love this hair, don’t you?"

Before you could answer, his tongue flicked out, teasing over your clit in the softest, slowest motion imaginable. Your head fell back, a gasp leaving your lips. He chuckled against you, sending vibrations through your body.

"Not so funny now, huh?"

You barely had time to process what was happening before he devoured you. His tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes, tracing and circling with precision. His lips sealed around your clit, sucking just enough to make your thighs tremble.

"Lixie-" you moaned, hands going to his hair.

The second your fingers tangled in his long locks, he groaned, the deep, needy sound vibrating against you. You tugged, just a little, his nails dug into your thighs.

"Baby, mhmm" he rasped, eyes fluttering open to meet yours. "Again."

Testing him, you curled your fingers tighter and pulled, guiding his head where you wanted him. Felix let out a moan, pupils dilating before he whimpered, sinking deeper into your heat. The sound alone nearly sent you over the edge.

"Fuck, Felix ah..."

"That's it, angel," he groaned, tightening his grip on you. "Cum for me."

And with one last flick of his tongue, your body tensed, pleasure crashing over you in waves. Your thighs clenched around his head, but Felix didn’t stop, he kept going, drawing out every moan out of your mouth, until you were whimpering from overstimulation. Only then did he pull back, licking his lips as he gazed up at you with a satisfied smirk.

"Still think I’m ‘pretty’?" he teased. Your chest heaved, a dazed smile curling at your lips. "So pretty," you breathed. Felix giggled, shaking his head as he stood.

"You’re lucky I love you."

"Mmh i love you too~." You tugged at his waistband, looking up at him through heavy lashes. "I- need it please." He groaned, already melting as you pulled him down for another kiss. You reached for the waistband of his jeans, fingers brushing over the button. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the tension in his muscles as he let out a shaky breath.

“You’re impatient, love” he murmured, teasing you again, but the way his hands trembled slightly as he pulled back told you he was just as eager.

“I want you,” you whispered, voice softer now.

Felix groaned, kissing you deeply before stepping back just enough to shed the rest of his clothes. His long hair cascaded over his shoulders as he tugged off his shirt, then pushed down his jeans and boxers, revealing himself fully. Your breath caught. No matter how many times you’d seen him like this, it always stole the air from your lungs. He was beautiful, but not in the delicate, feminine way strangers assumed. He was lean but strong, toned with abs of six pack. His skin glowed in the dim light, a slight flush dusting his cheeks as he hovered over you again. Felix’s hands traced over your body with reverence, fingertips ghosting over your ribs, the curve of your waist, your thighs. He took his time, as if committing every inch of you to memory.

“You’re so perfect,” he says, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, then your chest, then lower. “Every single part of you.”

Your fingers curled into his hair again, and he shuddered, eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment before he met your gaze once more.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered, you nodded, heart pounding.

Felix reached down, running himself through your folds, coating himself in your wetness before slowly, so slowly, pressing inside. Your breath hitched as he stretched you, filling you inch by inch, never rushing. His lips found yours again, swallowing the soft moan that slipped past your lips.

“Now, do I feel like a girl to you hm?” he asked, forehead resting against yours.

You exhaled shakily. “N-no.”

Felix nodded, letting out an almost desperate groan before he rolled his hips, pushing the rest of the way in. He stilled, letting you adjust, pressing gentle kisses to your cheeks, your jaw, your lips. His hands never stopped moving, caressing your sides, your thighs, grounding you in his warmth. Then, finally, he moved. Slow, deep thrusts, each one dragging along every sensitive spot inside you.

Felix wasn’t fucking you. He wasn’t pounding into you with reckless abandon, he was making love to you. And God, it felt good. His fingers laced with yours, pressing your hands into the cushions as he rocked into you at a sensual, unhurried pace.

“Feels so good,” he murmured against your lips. “You take me so well, baby.”

You whimpered, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him even closer. The new angle sent a shiver down your spine, pleasure coiling tighter with his slow, precise thrusts. Felix groaned as your walls clenched around him.

“Fuck, angel- just like that.”

His mouth trailed down to your neck, sucking lightly at the skin, leaving faint marks that would disappear by morning. His hips moved in steady, measured rolls, his thrusts pressing so deep, rubbing against that perfect spot inside you. You were falling apart beneath him, he was stretching you so good.

“Lixie-,” you gasped, nails digging into his back. “I- I’m close.”

He kissed you again. “I know, baby. I can feel you.” His pace never faltered, never grew erratic. He wanted you to feel all the love he has for you, to reach your high slowly, beautifully.

His fingers slipped between your bodies, rubbing slow, tight circles against your clit. The added sensation sent you tumbling over the edge, pleasure crashing through you in waves. Felix groaned as you clenched around him, his thrusts growing just a little deeper, a little more desperate as he chased his own release. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, breath hot against your skin.

“Gonna fill you up, baby ngh...gonna make you feel so good.”

And then, with one last thrust, he broke, spilling into you with a soft, breathless moan. His body trembled, muscles tense as he rode out his high, pressing you firmly against him. For a long moment, neither of you moved. Felix stayed inside you, chest rising and falling against yours, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. His hair tickled your skin as he pressed gentle kisses to your shoulder, your temple, your lips.

“Are you good my love?” he asked, voice thick with exhaustion and love.

You smiled, still breathless. “More than good.”

Felix chuckled, nuzzling into your neck. “Good.”

He pulled out carefully, rolling onto his side and pulling you with him, not letting an inch of space remain between you. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, his lips brushing against your forehead.

“You’re not laughing anymore,” he teased sleepily.

You giggled, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Nope heh.”

Felix hummed, already drifting into the hazy warmth of sleep. “Told you I’d prove it.”

And God, had he ever.

─────────౨ৎ──────────

Ehm...this edit inspired me :3

(it's my first time writing this kind of stuff please be nice 🙏🏻😽)

[bnyf]

baby you're my bunny ♡

╭﹕୨୧﹒ bunny boy x female reader

┊ warnings : yandere content and themes, unhealthy behaviors, relationship and relationship dynamic, slight body horror me thinks? slight horror, perverted yandere, non consensual touching, suggestive, uhhh that's it me thinks :3

╰﹕୨୧﹒ authoress note : so sorry if it's badly written also sorry if it ends weird :/

no survival instinct what's-so-ever. like... none.

but he was not complaining! it was just a mere observation. perhaps you were unaware of your allure, maybe you were not exposed to the cruel world yet, didn't know how sick people and creatures can be.

well for one... your little secret admirer was not one of those adorable bunnies you'd fawn over, nothing even close really. and no, he's not some cute boy with a bunny tail and some bunny ears. he's far from cute, a little scary actually.

humanoid? sure! typical bunny boy hybrid, uhhhh not really lol! he's mixed with human genetics but he's not quit. and for a bunny hybrid, he sure had a lot of predator instincts.

to put simply, he was an abnormality of mother nature. his lower half resembled a bunny whilst his torso and up is that of a man. his claws on his feet or paws or whatever are dangerously long, digging into the dirt whenever he walks, leaving behind a "too small to notice unless your looking for it" trail.

a muscular, lean build, biceps so perfect and manly hands to hold you down if you even ever think of escaping, awe how sweet of him <3

completely pale skin with small patches of equally pale fur in various spots, completely crimson, blood shot eyes and a pair of floppy bunny ears where any normal human's ears would be.

how did he even came to be? you may ask. well he was a normal boy, once upon a time. but one day, he'd gotten into a serious accident, a near death life experience. that day he could've hear the bells of heaven ringing in his ears but he wasn't ready to die, not like this... in his head he begged for more time, asking whatever god above to answer his prayers.

and yeah! his prayers where answered but, as they say, be careful what you wish for...

the moon goddess answered his prayers, but she also cursed him for it is the price he must pay to live longer.

"i grant you more time, as much time as you may need, but for as long as you roam his earth, your soul belongs to me and your purpose, is to server me," her voice rang in his ears like a bittersweet melody before he'd lose consciousness.

when he awake, he found himself in the mountains, he was a monstrosity of a man and dared not step a foot into society. he's to bare this curse and blessing till death.

he became easily bored and clueless as to what to do next, his every day life felt null and everything felt too much to bare. his eternity just began yet he dreads his mistake with every passing day.

"maybe, i should of just accepted my faith and die that day..."

with nothing and no one, he was left to wonder the mountain and serve the goddess by praying to her and tending to her shrine everyday, he's trapped to keep her energy going so she won't become a forgotten god.

(guys i made the lore up on a whim so bare with me even i'm confused right now :0)

anyways! everything drastically changed for our boy here when you and your family decided to move to the village nearby in the rural area, and live a peaceful life and just run a nice little farm hooray! hopefully, you don't get stalked and preyed on by a lonely scarily tall bunny male hybrid who looks like a utterly angelic, celestial eldritch horror, right?

all he could think about was a pretty girl had moved in next door and he just had to watch her from afar. most the villagers were very welcoming of you and your family, it was big talk because such a pretty girl had just moved in the small village and all the villagers wanted their sons or grandsons to get married.

it doesn't have much young people, mostly elders and young children and even less marriageable women. which is why you easily became popular, with everyone always gifting you things, begging you to marry into their family. they even had a town welcome celebration for you and your family!

he watched everything from afar. feeling a slight sting in his chest. jealous? already? of course he is, he wanted you all for himself. for countless nights, he just couldn't sleep at all.

he spent all his time admiring you from afar. the way he'd blush, his heart beat fastening, the gears in his head would just slow down a bit. gosh, he actually felt his heart warm so much it'd burn in his chest.

he wanted you badly.

you were his new source of entertainment, motivation and inspiration all in one and his mind was melting with how needy he started becoming.

"what the f- she's so kind and pretty..."

"i wanna hug her, wanna kiss her, feel her skin on mine, love her, fuck her."

"she can be my little bunny princess~"

"wonder what our babies would look like? i'm getting heated just thinking about it"

it didn't help much when he found out you adored bunnies and would play with them near the spring. fawning over the little fluffy creatures, hugging them and petting them. and when you held them in your arms and give smooches while rubbing your face on their fluffy fur?!?!?

that's where his obsession becomes almost to much to bare, his entire chest area felt so warm watching you treat those bunnies with so much love.

"everything about her is so perfect, i'm starting to crave her like crazy right now."

"wanna whisk her away, take her, lock her up and keep her all to myself."

his mind starts getting clouding with so many dark thoughts of you.

and so, he start pushing boundaries and going outside his comfort zone to appease his little appetite that consist of you. at night, he sneaks in to steal a closer glance at you and probably a few things so he can remember your scent properly.

the whole house was dark, the whole village asleep by the time it was midnight hour. he'd manage to get in somehow somewhere but when he did, he immediately went to your room.

finally. he could smell and touch you as much as he wanted, his mind was actually in ecstasy when he entered your room, your scent gracing his nostrils as soon as he did, and the poor touch starved male couldn't hold back on touching you various parts of your skin.

"how delightful, her skin is so smooth and her hair feels so good, she smells like flowers all over gosh so fucking perfect, i wanna devour her, drink her up, chew her, spit her out and do it all over again" with every slight movement you make and whimper scaping your soft lips, he can't help but hold back his own voice, he wanted to moan just by being around you, it felt so good.

after so long, why wouldn't it feel great?

to be around around someone for once, to feel the heat of another person's body, the sweet scent of someone else other than himself. he'd lay in bed with you, his larger self cuddling your smaller form as smells your hair, trailing his hands all over you.

he was getting ahead of himself.

it takes everything within him to not proceed and do something to you while in your sleep. his morals along with his sanity were drifting away more and more.

time flies by when you're enjoying yourself, before he knew it he had to leave before the sun raises. forcing himself he does but he also takes like 5 things from you.

"promise i'll return your belongings my love, i just need a little souvenir to help myself with."

the poor thing gets sent into an early heat after that little interaction. he's embarrassed a little but he really needs you, like he really does. and he thinks of ways of introducing himself but... he's a monster, you would run from him and be scared. and when that thought comes to mind it makes him... sad.

"if i'd die that day, i'd never meet her, never be able to see her, but now that i'm alive with the help of the moon goddess, i can't even act normal about her. it's like i'm truly doomed."

this realization was tough. it made him sick to think about. and for a while, he was just okay with sneaking in to see you, and holding your unconscious body but he wanted a lot more, and he wanted your acceptance and love. he wanted you to want him the way he wants you.

it hurt even more when he mistakenly glanced in the mirror only to see a 6 feet tall, half human half hybrid bunny with a deadly eerie looking bloody stare, stare right back at him.

the pale moonlight leaking on him, hitting his skin almost making it look silver.

"she'd surely fear me, she'd run."

he's such a beautiful tragedy. would you be able to appreciate that?

[specsthesecond]

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You live alone in the woods, really close to the border between Human territory and Orc territory.

You live a life of solitude. Though the loneliness can get to you, overall, you enjoy the quietness. Mostly.

This winter has been brutal, possibly the coldest you've ever endured. Hunting has been particularly hard. Perhaps that's why you thought the ice would hold as you cut a fishing hole in the middle of the frozen over lake.

They say love makes you do stupid things but hunger is the real mind melter. Before you get a chance to scream, the ice cracks and you plunge right into the deathly cold water hiding beneath the ice.

You manage to frantically pull yourself out of the water and onto thicker ice but you can't do anything other than hyperventilate and tremble violently on the frigid surface. You can't will your limbs to move, a stinging numbness renders you immobile. Is this really how you die? Trembling in a fetal position as your enzymes slowly collapse.

In your panicked haze, you can see a blurry figure slowly coming towards you from the Orcish territory. This only makes your fight or flight go into overdrive and currently neither option is viable. The only warmth you feel are the tears seeping out of your eyes and freezing on your wet cheeks. You close your eyes, trying desperately to calm your breaths so you at least die with dignity.

And then you feel warmth. Warmth engulfs your shaking hands and you open your glassy eyes. You have to squint but you can make out the manly features on the stranger's green face. The fear that spikes in you at the sight of an orc so close and the comforting warmth of his hands covering yours create a very confusing contradiction.

You can do nothing as the giant beast lifts you into his warm arms, You can do nothing but convulse and heave as he starts running into the woods, further into Orcish territory and further away from your home.

You try and see where you're going but the whole thing is a blur, before you even realise it you're looking around what you assume is the orc's home. Cobblestone walls, small living area, couch, carpet, fire.

Fire.

Your shaking fingers try to grip the orc's fluffy coat, you would crawl across miles of broken glass just to get closer to that fire. Luckily, you don't need to do that because the stranger brings you closer to the fire and starts undressing you, struggling to pry the heavy drenched layers from your soaked body. You barely have it in you to be bashful or scared, you just need the fire. You need to crawl into the hearth and lay there forever.

He strips you of everything but your underpants, what a gentleman, and takes his top layers off as well, leaving him in only a tunic and pants. He grabs a thick wool blanket from the couch and throws it over your still trembling body. He then bundles you up in his massive arms and scooches as close to the fire as safely possible.

You try and stretch your feet out to the fire, desperately needing to gain feeling in your toes again. If you can't walk, how will you hunt or forage or live. You would have burnt both your feet in the flames if it wasn't for the orc grabbing your ankles and tucking your feet into the blanket with a huff.

The orc hugs you to his chest and rubs your back as you shiver, warm hand softening the goose flesh and lulling your frightened body into a more calm state. It takes a while before your breathing evens out enough to drift off in the warm embrace of this stranger.

You resolve that whatever problems are waiting for you when you wake will be better dealt with after proper rest and recovery.

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.

Next ->

[ranticore]

some thoughts about Clothes For Horses

out of practicality the average ironwall citizen wears a blanket made for horses (even if they are not horses). the blankets are bulk-ordered by specialist ironwall tailor shops and modified on the premises, sometimes while the customer is waiting. the modifications lengthen the straps so that they can be easily reached. this is considered okay for casualwear but tacky for formal occasions.

the upper body can usually just wear whatever mass produced human clothing they like. the only item of clothing which is made specifically for these guys is the waist sash (sometimes with an additional cloth drape on the front, which can smarten up an outfit). these are people whose culture has a deep seam of embarrassment at being part animal, and this fact should be hidden if at all possible even though it isn't possible but you just have to try. the junction between fur and skin is always hidden. the orange blanket pictured above is about as skimpy as you could get away with in public. mane hair is usually shaved off for practicality's sake.

for practical work where harnesses and tack are required, these are usually worn over blankets and modified to include no reins/other control apparatus. for those for whom it is possible, horse-shoes are worn on the front feet for daily city life, and on all feet for hard manual labour or any activities/hobbies/etc which require good traction on the hind legs. shoes are usually not made of metal but of a composite into which grip studs can be inserted if necessary. the imagery of hard metal shoes is associated with counterculture movements and sometimes if you wanna look hard you can have your shoes spraypainted to be shiny. barefoot is actually fine in most circumstances

dedicated centaur clothing is stupid expensive because very few manufacturers produce it and the fabric yardage is insane so it is a class signifier. the garment shape & purpose is unisex though due to influence from dominant human cultures in the area, there's still a difference between a Stallion's Manly Robes and a Demure Filly Dress. ideally the full body is covered and the overall impression is of a human strapped to some mysterious shape idk what could possibly be under there. normal human legs i bet.

[cillians-sweetheart]

Secret Boyfriend - Thomas Shelby

Thomas Shelby(39) x Fem!Reader(18)

Plot: Y/N has a new, secret boyfriend who she meets up with late in the night to avoid judgement from her parents as he is not quite what they would want, but perfect for Y/N in pleasing all her needs.

Content: Smut, age-gap, pet names, secrecy, oral (m), rubbing (m & f), car sex, riding, dirty talk (m & f), huge daddy kink, no protection, Tommy sounds kinda pervy but romantic too

(Modern day Thomas Shelby in this story)

Laying in my little white bed, I kick my feet and grin at my screen while I text my new boyfriend, Thomas. I’ve met him through the internet and have met with a few times late at night when my parents were asleep. 

I couldn’t have them find out I had been seeing a man almost 3 times my age. I was freshly 18, and still a child to them. They’d never understand what Tommy and I have. He was tall, and fit. And each time I’d see him he’d wear the type of suits he wore to work. Perfectly tailored to his figure, and always smelling rich and manly. There was no way I could keep my hands to myself when I was with him.

Most nights I’d run out to his car in the dark and we’d drive around the city to an empty road where he'd kiss, and caress me until the sun rose. His lips were always so gentle. And during the day I’d sneak away from everyone to text him. 

{“I miss you”}, I texted while smiling and giggling like a high school girl. I mean technically I was, so it made sense.

Just seconds after a new message pops up on my screen. {“I miss you too my girl ;)”}

{“how was work?”}

{“Ah, it was fine, just boring office stuff. Nothing interesting.”} Thomas sent while sitting alone in his house, still in his work clothes and also grinning to himself.

{“Can I see you tonight?”}

{“Won’t your parents be home, baby?”}

{“Please daddy… I need you”}

Thomas chuckled to himself, {“Haha baby, don’t do this to me. I really want to come and touch you but I don’t want you getting caught”}

{“When my parents go to sleep I can sneak out and come meet you. No one will see me”}

{“Oh baby, you’re just tempting me. You know I can’t resist feeling you… I’ll be there tonight.”}

{“Ok thank you daddy, I’ll see you soon”} 

I sent the message with my cheeks a flustered shade of pink. I quickly jumped up from my bed and changed into nicer clothing and quickly applied makeup on my smooth face. It was getting late anyway so I’d get ready now. 

Thomas too got up and grabbed his car keys. He loved how I begged for him, and how I’d do anything just to see him. And soon enough he arrived outside my house. He was nervous for me, but couldn’t wait another second longer to touch me. 

{“I’m here love. Whenever you’re ready”}

{“Coming daddy”} I quickly replied and quickly ran down the stairs to the front door. 

When I came outside, Thomas was leaning against his expensive car with that handsome smirk he always got when he saw me. I quickly ran to him with my short dress flowing in the wind and brushing against my thighs. I wrapped my body around him in a tight hug, and inhaled deeply his rich scent and felt his toned chest through his shirt.

“Oh my princess…” He smiled and kissed the top of my head. “Come on baby.” He led me to the passenger seat and opened the door for me. 

We drove around through the dark empty roads. His big hand lightly rubbed my bare thigh with intimate caresses. Slowly I began to slide down in the seat making his hand go higher and higher between my legs. He got the hint and trailed his hand up my dress to gently tickle me through my thin, lacy pantries. 

I couldn’t take my eyes off him from beside me as he rubbed me with his finger. I bit my lip and whimpered at his touch. He looked over to me, his eyes scanning from my shivering legs up to my baby doll face. 

“You’re such a cute girl… couldn’t wait to see daddy, couldn’t you?” He asked with his voice so smooth, and silky on my ears. 

“Mhm,” I nodded, looking down between my legs at my growing wetness for him. 

Eventually after several minutes driving through the quiet streets, Thomas parked at the end of a dead road. There was nothing but trees and darkness all around us. Thomas turned off the car and turned to me. 

“Give daddy a kiss.” He leaned in closer to me, moving his hands up to hold my face. I instantly fell into him and my lips latched onto his hungrily. Sweet little moans escaped my lips each time they’d separate even the slightest. 

Thomas pulled back to look closely at my face. With his thumb he traced my bottom lip, and in return I kissed his skin lovingly like a little puppy. “Such a good girl… you know exactly how to please your daddy, hm?” 

I nodded, continuing to kiss his thumb and over his whole hand. My submission was more than obvious for him. There’s nothing I’d not do for him. 

I pulled my lips away from his hand and Thomas leaned back to get out of the car. I watched him outside just briefly before he got back into the car in the backseat. He sat right in the middle with his legs spread and his bulge showing through his dress pants. 

“Come here.” He sat back, watching me with amusement as I crawled to him. “Good girl… Crawl to daddy.” His voice was low and sensual, making my legs shiver. 

In the backseat I straddled Thomas’s lap and looked into his blue eyes that I could barely see in the dark, but I could feel the lust in them. 

My hands felt around on his muscular chest and unbuttoned his shirt as my hands travelled lower and lower down his torso. His skin beneath was hot, and smooth and the hair on his chest, and below his belly button made my panties wet as I touched it. His legs spread wider, and his pants grew tighter. I felt as his hardening cock poked and rubbed me through my pantries. It made my mouth water.

I moved to the side on the leather seat next to him and looked up into his eyes while I eagerly undid his pants. His hips moved lower into the seat and his head laid back against the leather. He felt his cock just aching to be touched, and sucked. 

“That’s good baby, keep going.” He groaned under his breath while I pulled his big, needy cock from his pants. My eyes glared up into his while my face and lips slowly lowered to his hot, wet skin. I kissed and licked at his pink tip like a little kitten while making eye contact the whole time.

Thomas petted my silky hair while looking down at me with admiration, “My good baby… pleasing your daddy so well,” He groaned to the feeling of my lips hungrily sucking and kissing on his tip. His hand gripped in my hair and he tilted my face up to look at him while he pushed my mouth down the length of his thick cock. He groaned and cursed while I loved on his sweet, sensitive skin. I needed to give daddy more and slowly bobbed my head and sucked in my cheeks around him. “Hmh… god… just like that baby, just like that.” 

I sucked and swallowed him like it was the last thing I’d ever do. I couldn’t stop myself even if I wanted to. He tasted so good, and making my daddy feel good was all that I lived for. 

I pulled my mouth up from his dripping cock with a pop when he tugged on my hair. “Come.” He patted his thigh and I obediently sat up and straddled his lap. “Let daddy see that little pussy…” He was voice rough and hot in my neck and he lifted the straps of my pantries off and down my hips. I leaned back and let him strip me until I was completely naked on his lap, sitting and waiting for the attention I craved. 

“So cute,” He whispered glaring down my body and between my legs. His fingers slipped between my legs and slowly he rubbed my wet clit in gentle circles.

I was so sensitive from my growing arousal, and my sweet sounds and whimpering just encouraged him more. 

His fingers felt so perfect, rubbing faster and harder. I grind against his fingers eagerly spreading my wetness all over his hand. “You wanna cum?” He asked with his breath hot in my neck. 

“Mhm… Mhm daddy, please” 

“Cum on my cock… rub it.” He turned to lay back onto the seats and I sat on his cock against his lower stomach. My wet lips stroked his length, and my clit rubbed against his smooth veiny skin. I moaned and whimpered all sweet and desperate while I rubbed my pussy on him. 

Tommy gripped my hips, “fuck…,” he groaned with his head falling back. My soft lips were practically milking him and filling his stomach with precum. And eventually, I came with loud needy moans, and my fingers digging into his chest. His cock was absolutely throbbing by now and was bigger than it's ever been. 

“Oh, that’s such a good girl…” he praised sitting back up on the seat, me still on his lap. Tommy’s hands reached up into my hair holding my face close to his. We kissed sloppily while I sat and lowered myself down onto his aching cock. It filled my little hole so perfectly. Made purely just for him, as he’s the only one who’s ever used it. 

My hands held onto Tommy’s bulky shoulders, and he lifted his hips to forcefully thrust. My high pitched moans were in sync with his quick movements, and echoed throughout the car. The windows fogged and the air around us got hot and humid. 

Tommy’s lips sucked and kissed at my neck leaving his mark of property. My fingernails dug into his back and shoulders while trying to muffle my pleasurable whines in his hot neck. 

“Yes… Yes!” I yelled pounding my hips down onto him. “Daddy!” My body trembled and grew weak. Thomas took control using all his strength to buck his hips up against mine, his cock reaching deep inside. 

Thomas’s hand held tightly onto my plump butt, moving me up and down. Both of our skin grew damp with sweat and arousal. The movement between us got sloppy the closer we got. Neither of us had a proper thought but the feelings in our bodies. Everything between us with our bodies and lips, it went so fast like time hadn’t existed. Nothing existed when he and I were together, nothing but each other. 

And eventually over those last few, sloppy thrusts, Thomas’s cock shot his hot cum deeply into my cervix. His hips bucked up into mine forcefully which broke me into spilling my fluids onto his lap. I held onto him tightly as the sensitivity grew and faded and as our bodies began to slow down to a stop. 

I breathed heavily with little whimpers escaping with my exhale. I could feel Tommy relax and soften while still inside me. And before we moved we took the time just holding each other and gently kissing with the little energy we had left. 

I could feel the love Thomas had for me from the way he’d caress my bare hip and kiss me ever so gently. There was always a difference between him -in the way he acted-  before and after sex, but I loved both sides equally. He was rough and dominant but also gentle and romantic. And in the end he’d drive me home and kiss every inch of my face before I’d go back inside to sleep peacefully. 

“I love you my sweet girl,” He’d say each time. 

And from me, “I love you too, daddy.” With a kiss on his cheek. 

[grenadehearts]

drunk needy clingy kirishima??

Kirishima's drunk. You can tell by the warm, rosy flush blooming across his cheeks under the soft streetlight glow. His crimson eyes, glassy and half-lidded, blink slow and unfocused as he leans into you, words slurring just enough at the ends that the tang of alcohol clings to every breath.

And god, he's clinging. This big, broad, beefy man—pro hero, strong enough to level buildings—is latched onto his girlfriend like a needy puppy, Anyone passing by might do a double take, but luckily, the street is silent and empty at this hour. It’s one in the morning, and the city's tucked into sleep.

He whines softly, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he drawls, “But babyyy, I missshhh you—hic.”

You laugh under your breath, amused and endeared. “Kiri, I’m right here.”

But he isn’t having it. He spins you around clumsily, his hands landing on your cheeks, fingers poking at the soft skin like he’s checking if you're real.

“Hmmm,” he hums suspiciously, nose wrinkling. “Don’t believe it.”

Then, after a beat, his expression breaks into a crooked grin. “Kidding. But I wanna hug you. And kiss you. Can we do that? Please?”

There’s such raw, eager affection in his tone, it tugs at your heart even as you bite back another smile. You turn your head slightly, dodging his attempts to plant a wet kiss on your cheek.

“Soon, babe. Not yet. I gotta call a cab first, ‘kay?”

He lets out a dramatic groan and crosses his arms like a sulking kid, swaying slightly on his feet as you pull your phone out. But as soon as you start dialing, he’s pressed up against your back again, wrapping you in a warm, clumsy hug. His face buries in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your skin as he mumbles,

“You smell so good… and you taste good too...”

The kisses start then—sloppy, uncoordinated little pecks peppered across your jaw and neck.

You laugh, startled, and gently push him off. “Kiri, no. You’re drunk. Save the love bites for when you’re sober, yeah? The cab’ll be here any second.”

He grumbles in protest, muttering something unintelligible, but he doesn’t fight it.

The cab ride home is another challenge. Kirishima immediately collapses into you, burying his face into your chest, arms wrapped around your waist like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. At one point, he even shoves his head up under your shirt in some misguided attempt to get closer.

“M’just love you so much, y’know that?” he murmurs into your skin.

You hum, combing your fingers through his messy hair. “I know, baby.”

“You’re so manly,” he mumbles next, and it’s so slurred it takes a second to process. “Like… so manly I gotta marry you or somethin’.”

You laugh, heart swelling at the raw honesty in his voice.

“You’re so pretty I—hic—I can’t even handle it...”

And then, without warning, the tears start. His head lifts from under your shirt just long enough to rest against your shoulder, sniffling. His voice cracks as he continues, a mess of intoxicated love confessions spilling out in barely coherent sentences.

“Just wish I could crawl into your skin and… and live there. You’re so warm. So soft.”

You don’t even try to suppress the fond exhale.

Later that night, you’re in the bathroom with him, kneeling on the cold tiles. One hand holds back his messy crimson hair, the other rubbing gentle circles on his back as he throws up everything he'd drunk. A bottle of aspirin and a full glass of water wait nearby.

masterlist link here.

taglist: @xoxojisu @candiiee @luvseraphh @cvnt4him @soundtrqck @chlosology @lotusstarr @cupkiki @wokasiv @badslittlemuffin @princessshnazzy @203steph @chitteringcicadaeyes @idk1187 @notartemis777 @chosostonguepiercing @chocolatedefendorbaa @t33th--r0t @3lenaatvt @the-faceless-bride @tuneinwlosers @badslittlemuffin @dreamcastgirl99 @gethexxed @moonstonejpg @pluto-9456

[yanderenightmare]

TW: yandere, dubcon/noncon, size difference, captive reader

gn reader - fem clothing (doll costume: dress)

Just thinking about the creep yandere captor who insists on taking pictures of you when you're all dolled up in his bed...

The contrast is nauseating. 

He’s too big. Too tall and too strong. Thick threatening muscles lined with scars like a tiger. A set of hefty shoulders on a torso so broad you find yourself shunning yourself each time the slightest silly thought of uproar surfaces. 

He’s too scary for you to ever dare anyway. His eyes alone have a darkness that makes you whimper every time he looks you up and down. 

It doesn’t help that he’s always dressed in only black. Black boxers and black sweats hung low around his waist, showing the fine-toned muscles of his pelvis and the manly happy trial of curls growing thickly from beneath the band to his briefs up to his belly button.

A black tank shows off his upper body strength where he takes heavy breaths like a beast, chest rising and falling along with a large black camera - like a heavy-duty weapon hanging around his neck, snapping pictures of you dolled up in all lovely intricacies. 

You can’t help but flinch each time the light flashes, the snap sounding like a gunshot. And he can't help but chuckle each time you do, loving how you jump and bounce a bit on his bed, your tiny fists balling up the plush layers of tulle and lace to your poofy skirt as you press your knees tighter together - shivering from head down to the tiny black shiny shoes adorning your feet clicking as they bob against each other where they dangle off the bed - feeling like a decorative doll sat on a mantle. 

The pink skirt to your overly extra dress lay perfectly spread like a blanket around you with a silly white apron tied tight around your midsection, fastened with a great large bow on your back. All in all, making you feel humiliatingly ridiculous. With no thanks to the equally silly white bonnet situated on your head with just as stupid enormous bows tied above each ear. Looking so adorably sheepish beneath its shadow, your pretty face sweetened with that lovely look of anxiety he loves so much.

So picture-perfect with those sparkly eyes welling with tears.

One or two of them splash down on the white of your apron as you sniffle at the harsh flash of another picture being taken.

Your captor growls while viewing the last set of images, or perhaps it was a groan.

You peek up from looking down at your gloved hands folded neatly upon your lap to find what you’d been dreading.

He gave the constrained area of his crotch a tug and hissed out another scary sound that had you whimper all the more.

Despite all the hefty sets of inane layers to your getup, he never ever bothers dressing you in the first. 

Underwear would just make it complicated.

BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Deku, Shoto, Shinso, Enji, Aizawa, Overhaul, Mirio, All Might

JJK – Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Megumi, Toji

HQ – Kageyama, Kuro, Sakusa, Miya twins, Suna, Tendou, Ukai

CSM – Aki, Yoshida

DS – Doma, Akaza, Tomioka, Sanemi

HxH – Chrollo, Illumi, Uvogin

[b1eedthefreak]

heyy dear!! can you write some fluff about reader having to deal with a drunk bf daryl?

Heavyweight

daryl x reader

warnings: drinking

i hope you like this! :3

⸻

Alexandria was buzzing tonight.

The whole town felt brighter somehow, with lanterns hanging across the courtyard and warm yellow light glowing from every porch. Tables were covered with potluck, offerings whatever people could throw together and someone had dragged out an old stereo to play music. Kids darted between legs while adults leaned back in their chairs, laughing like they had nothing to be afraid of. For once.

And in the middle of it all was Rosita, smirking as she threw back another drink.

“You really think you can take him?” Tara was asking from beside her.

“Oh, I know I can,” she said confidently, tilting her chin toward Daryl.

Rick raised a brow, arms crossed. “I don’t know, Rosita… I think you might win this one.”

That was all it took.

Across the fire, Daryl grunted and picked up a bottle of something sharp and clear, and downed half of it without blinking.

You were a few feet away, deep in conversation with Carol near the drinks table.

“And I told her, Michonne if you bring back another cat statue, I swear—’”

You were laughing midsip when Carol stopped short, eyes going wide.

“Oh my God,” she breathed.

You blinked. “What?”

Carol pointed with her cup. “Turn around.”

You did.

Your jaw nearly dropped.

Daryl, your quiet, brooding, stubborn boyfriend, was at the fire pit, laughing. Laughing. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes glassy, and his hand was waving some bottle like a weapon of war. Rosita stood across from him, shaking her head in disbelief while Rick and Tara exchanged knowing looks.

“Oh no,” you said. “Oh no, no, no—”

“Too late,” Carol said, delighted. “He’s gone.”

You started marching over. “Daryl Dixon, what the hell are you doing?”

He turned to you, that lazy drunk grin spreading across his face like sunshine.

“M’winning,” he declared proudly.

“Winning what?” you asked, grabbing the bottle from his hand before he could raise it again.

“The uh… the contest.” He blinked slowly, like his brain had to load. “Rosita dared me.”

“It wasn’t a dare,” Rosita called. “It was a joke.”

Rick lifted his hands. “Tried to stop him.”

“Daryl, you’re drunk.”

He looked genuinely surprised. “Am not.”

You raised a brow.

“…A lil’ bit,” he admitted.

You sighed and stepped closer, cupping his cheek. “I know.”

He leaned into your touch instantly, nuzzling your palm like a sleepy dog. “Still handsome though… right?”

“My God,” you muttered. “Come on. You’re done for the night.”

He whined as you tugged his arm over your shoulder, but didn’t fight it. Just draped himself against you like dead weight, mumbling incoherently while the others watched with smirks.

“C’mon,” you said, pulling him along. “Let’s get you home.”

It took ten full minutes to get Daryl through the door.

He bumped into the frame twice. Almost fell over trying to toe off his boots. By the time you made it to the couch, he was half limp in your arms, head flopping against your shoulder with a content sigh.

“Comfy,” he mumbled, burying his nose in your neck.

“You’re not even on the couch yet,” you huffed, struggling to turn him. “Baby, help me out.”

“I am helpin’,” he said, voice muffled.

“No, you’re deadweight. And you smell like moonshine and sweat.”

“Mmm. Manly.”

You laughed despite yourself and finally got him onto the couch. He sprawled out dramatically, arms reaching for you like a child asking to be picked up.

“Come lay with me,” he whined. “S’cold.”

You bit the inside of your muth to keep from smiling too hard. “Fine. But first, water. And Advil. And you need to take that vest off.”

“I like m’vest.”

“I know you do. But you’ll thank me tomorrow.”

You worked off his vest and shirt gently, tossing them over a chair, then grabbed a water bottle and some pills from the kitchen. When you came back, he was lying on his back, shirtless, arm slung over his eyes like the star of a tragic soap opera.

“Hurts,” he groaned.

“You did this to yourself.”

“Rick provoked me.”

“He said Rosita might win.”

“Same thing.”

You helped him sit up enough to sip the water and take the Advil. He sagged into you afterward, cheek against your shoulder, breath warm and slow.

“…You mad at me?” he mumbled.

Your heart softened completely. “No baby, Just worried.”

“Didn’t mean t’drink so much. Jus’… y’know. Everyone was watchin’. Wanted to prove…”

He trailed off, nose scrunching.

“Prove what?” you asked, brushing sweaty hair off his forehead.

“That I ain’t weak.”

“Oh, Daryl,” you whispered, cupping his jaw. “No one thinks you’re weak. Not even close. You could’ve had one sip and I still would’ve dragged your ass home. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone.”

“…What about you?”

“I already love you,” you said, smiling softly. “Even when you’re a drunk man-baby who smells like a barn.”

He groaned and buried his face in your neck. “Ugh. ‘M embarrassin’.”

“You’re adorable.”

“Gross.”

You laughed and kissed the side of his head. “Lay down, baby. Let me take care of you.”

He let you guide him back down, head in your lap, one arm slung across your waist. You carded your fingers through his hair while he slowly melted into the cushions, murmuring sleepy nonsense every few seconds.

“…You always this pretty?”

“Only when you’re this drunk.”

He grinned.

“I knew it,” you teased. “You do like being babied.”

“Shut up.”

You kept stroking his hair, running your hand down his chest every so often, soothing the tight muscles. He was warm and soft and quiet now, breath evening out against your thigh.

“I love you,” he mumbled again, voice fading.

“I love you too, Daryl.”

“…Even if I lost to Rosita?”

You kissed his forehead. “Especially then.”

⸻

[puck-luck]

Trevor gives off the vibes where he’d love just being in his girl even if it’s not sexual like they’ll just be sitting there watching tv and before you know it he’s inside of her and they’re just vibing together. I also feel like he’d be so into free use with his girl like he’ll be playing video games and she’ll get off while she uses him or she’ll be laying there reading and he’s just inside of her getting off on his own

4 + 1: Free Use with BF!Trevor

I.

After talking about it, you’ve taken to wearing thongs and an oversized t-shirt around the house. Trevor needs easy access, after all, and you had made a promise. 

You’re reading a book on the couch when he gets home from some Ducks event. You’re laying along the length of the cushions on your stomach, knees bent and ankles crossed, kicking your feet in the air aimlessly. The book is propped up against a throw pillow and you’re lazily turning the pages. 

When Trevor arrives home, you look up at him. “Hi, baby,” you greet. “Good day?”

He’s the perfect picture cuddly boyfriend, which is why he’d been late getting out of bed for this event in the first place. He hadn’t even had time to change. He’s still wearing those BU sweatpants you love so much and the white hoodie he’d found at the foot of your bed. 

Trevor offers you a complacent smile. “It was fine.” He walks over to the couch and pushes your legs down until they’re flat on the cushions. He collapses on top of your back, laying with his head just between your shoulder blades.

You let out a small chuckle, barely more than a puff of breath, and return to your book. You’re being pressed into the cushions by a lot more than gravity now, but you don’t mind. It’s nice to have your boyfriend so close, especially as he’s snaking his hands up the sides of your shirt and tracing your skin.

He kisses your spine. “Can I?” Trevor asks, his voice muffled and pouty against your back. He shifts up on his knees so he can press his hips to your ass.

It’s the first time that Trevor has wanted to do this since you talked about it. Free use. Goosebumps rise on your neck. 

“You don’t have to ask,” you remind Trevor, although it’s nice that he did since it’s the first time he’s actually going to use you like this. “‘m all yours, babe.”

Trevor hums proudly at that, pecking your shoulder before pulling away from you entirely. He leans back on his heels and pushes his sweats down. 

You look again to your book. You can feel Trevor stroking himself to his full hardness and you bite your bottom lip. You’re wet thinking about how Trevor just wants to be inside of you, to treat you like no more than a hole to be filled when he wants to fill it, but you’re not particularly inclined to participate. That’s the whole point, after all, isn’t it?

He pushes your legs apart, then settles between them. The blunt tip of his cock probes your entrance and sinks into you.

The drag is harsh and it gets harder and harder to read as Trevor becomes more drunk on this feeling. You feign nonchalance. 

Trevor grips your hips and drives his cock into your heat over and over and over again. There’s no regard for you, for your pleasure. It’s only about his pleasure and, honestly, that makes you feel good. Trevor’s climax, in this state, means much more to you than your own. As long as he’s feeling good, then you’re happy to be used.

He doesn’t waste time on anything other than chasing his orgasm. You get to hear Trevor in his purest state– this is like fucking his own fist in complete privacy, but instead, he’s fucking into you. You get to hear all of his grunts and groans and puffs of breath and stifled whimpers, all of which he makes when you’re together too, but he likes to make them more manly and sexy when he’s putting on a show for you. Truth be told, you like these better. You like that Trevor can’t stop the stutter of his hips and the keen that escapes his mouth as he starts to shoot off inside of you.

You love how he moves to bracket your ribs with his arms, palms flat on the couch. His hips continue to move as he works through his orgasm, cum dribbling from his tip into your cunt. Trevor’s lips find your neck, your shoulder, your spine… he plants grateful kiss after grateful kiss to your back until his movements slow to pure stillness and Trevor lays against you.

His cock remains inside, acting like a plug to keep the cum from leaking out of you onto the couch. Trevor hooks his nose over your shoulder. “I hope I didn’t disturb your reading,” Trevor mumbles. He takes some of the fabric of your shirt in his mouth, tugging on it. “Couldn’t resist.”

II. 

“Hey, babe, c’mere,” Trevor calls from down the hall.

“What, Trev?” you reply. You scrunch your hair in a towel, having just gotten out of the shower a few minutes prior. When he doesn’t reply, you roll your eyes and leave the bathroom, making your way into Trevor’s game room. “What, Trev,” you repeat in a more exasperated voice.

He looks over his shoulder and moves one of his headphones to the side. His face splits into a grin. “Oh, good. Take your towel off and come here.” He spreads his legs, scooting back in his wheely chair so you can fit partially beneath the desk. “I want to use your mouth.”

You stare at him blankly for a moment, then shake your head and chuckle. “Really?”

Trevor nods and lifts his hips enticingly. 

“Are you going to game while I suck you off?” you ask.

Trevor nods again and smiles wide. 

You start to laugh again, walking over to where he sits and putting your hands on his knees. You bend at the waist and peck his lips before sliding to your knees. 

Trevor grabs a hairtie from the desk and ties your hair into the world’s most hurried bun. Then, he leans back in his chair and picks up his controller. He puts his headphones back over both ears and resumes his game. He lifts his hips as you start to drag his waistband down. 

You lick Trevor’s tip slowly with the flat of your tongue, peeking up through your eyelashes as you do and catching the way the corners of his mouth turn up. His eyes stay on the screen. 

The hair on Trevor’s thighs is soft and you pet through it as you slide his cock into your throat. You scratch your nails gently over his skin, closing your eyes and starting to bob your head. Trevor’s cock is thick and tastes slightly salty as precum oozes from his tip and seeps into your warm mouth.

Trevor’s breath is deep and his expression remains mostly unaffected. You aim to change that.

You swallow him down as much as you can. Trevor’s cock flexes with your swallow, filling all the space that you give him. You gag, but force your way down until your lips are wrapped around Trevor’s base. You lift your eyes to his face and find Trevor’s gaze on you, wide smirk on his face.

“Showing off?” Trevor asks knowingly.

Stilted by the cock in your mouth, you shake your head. 

“Then fuck your mouth for me, will ya?” Trevor instructs goodnaturedly, nudging you with his foot and grinning at you. 

You choke a little bit on Trevor’s cock when you laugh at his words, but you pull off and put your mouth to work.

You lay your hand flat on Trevor’s hip and caress his abdomen with your thumb, bobbing your head up and down. His tip knocks into the back of your throat as you push yourself down, alternating between lathering your tongue over his tip and deepthroating him until you have to pull off and gasp for breath. 

Trevor plays on. You can hear the clicking of his controller and the way he’ll let out an annoyed groan whenever something goes wrong on the screen.

You lap at his tip and fit your lips around his crown, sucking softly and flicking the tip of your tongue over his slit, collecting the precum there and begging for more to come out and coat your tongue. You hum and take him down about halfway, drawing your fingers gently up and down the rest of his shaft. You’re barely touching him in this moment, just ghosting over his veins and ridges. When you take him all the way down, you cup his balls and roll them in your palm. When you give them a squeeze, Trevor’s cock jumps in your mouth.

It’s the first physical reaction, beside how hard his length is, that you’ve gotten from Trevor.

You repeat the actions over and over. Trevor’s cock is steadily leaking precum now, the taste filling your mouth, and you can feel his pulse growing more and more rapid on your tongue. You breathe through your nose, choking yourself on Trevor’s length and allowing spit to drip down his cock until he’s positively coated. 

Massaging the vein on the underside of Trevor’s cock with the flat your tongue, you swallow around his tip. His cock jerks again, bumping into the roof of your mouth a telltale three, four, five times before pearly white cum shoots down your throat in long, thick threads.

You swallow around him until Trevor is done coming and there’s nothing left in your throat but the aftertaste. 

You kneel back on your heels and use the momentum to make your way to your feet, pecking Trevor’s mouth again and heading back to the bathroom to finish your post-shower routine.

III. 

You’re wearing Trevor’s pink sweatshirt, the one with Roman numerals on the breastbone, and chopping up vegetables for a pasta sauce. You’ve already got four tomatoes halved and thrown in the blender, plus an onion that you cut into quarters. There are a few cloves of garlic thrown into the blender with those veggies and you’re about to start blending them, once you finish chopping this carrot into fine little pieces. Really, you’re just trying to blend all of your veggies that are about to go bad together so that they don’t go to waste. Even if it tastes like shit, your boyfriend is like a vaccuum when it comes to any kind of food, and he’ll eat as much as you give him.

It’s been a couple of months since you and Trevor started this free use journey and you’ve stopped wearing underwear altogether when you’re around the house. Trevor has ruined a few pairs already, by stretching them out or physically ripping them off of your body due to his lack of patience, and you’d rather not have to buy new underwear every other month. 

It’s lucky that you’re wearing nothing, given how Trevor walks in the front door after practice and drops everything where he stands before beelining to you. He presses his face into your hair and breathes in deeply, shoving his hands up the sweatshirt and kneading your boobs.

“Long day?” you ask, chuckling and chopping up the final pieces of carrot before putting the knife to the side. You pick up handful after handful of carrots and toss them in the blender, eventually wiping your hands on the teatowel you’d thrown on the counter after washing the tomatoes. 

“The longest,” Trevor replies. One of his hands leaves your chest, retreating to pull his cock out of his pants. He fists the base and rubs his tip against your folds until he’s hard and straining and you’re slick enough for him to press inside.

You’re doing your best to pour a dash of vegetable oil and a bit of heavy cream into the blender so that the vegetables blend more easily, but Trevor has started to thrust against you. The carton of heavy cream slips and you pour way more than you wanted to, but you catch your mistake before the sauce will be too creamy. You close the carton with one hand, using the other to find purchase on the counter and brace yourself for Trevor’s bucking hips.

He notices your stiffness and slips his hand back up to your boob, holding both in his hands and keeping you in place so that you don’t have to. “Sorry, baby, I’ll be quick,” Trevor murmurs with a kiss to the back of your neck. “I needed this.”

“Don’t apologize, Trev,” you say. “You feel good. Take what you need, sweet boy.” You press the button on the blender and the loud whirring fills the room, but you can feel the puffs of Trevor’s breath on your neck and his low moans next to your ear. 

He pinches your nipples beneath the sweatshirt and the feeling travels through your body to your pussy, squeezing Trevor tight. He swivels his hips against you, grinding deep before he draws back and starts to pound into you again. His forehead meets your spine. You can practically feel how close he is already, even though it’s only been a few minutes. He just needs a release after a long day and you’re more than willing to offer that to him.

You press your hips back and watch Trevor’s reaction in the glass of the blender. As he throws his head back and furrows his eyebrows, jaw dropping open, his hips drive into you in a slower, harder, more precise way. His body claps against yours and you turn off the blender just as Trevor comes, moaning out loud and flooding your cunt with his seed. 

You transfer the blended sauce into the pan on the stove and hit a few buttons, setting it on low heat as Trevor pulls his cock from your pussy and watches the cum drip from your hole. He pushes it back in with his fingers, then guides his softening cock to your entrance and fills you again. He stays behind you like that as the sauce simmers, playing with your boobs and kissing your neck as you dump the strained pasta into the sauce and mix them together. 

“That looks good,” Trevor mumbles. He kisses the space right behind your ear. “You’re so good to me.”

You giggle when his breath tickles the shell of your ear, shivering at the sensation. You turn the noodles over in the sauce. “It’s ‘cause I love you,” you tell him.

Trevor brings a hand to your clit, circling his fingers. “Gonna get you back after we eat,” Trevor says. “Make you come a couple of times.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you reply. You reach for the teatowel and hang it over your shoulder. “Now, clean me up and put this in the laundry after, will you?”

IV.

The next time Trevor needs you like that, you’re asleep in bed. He didn’t expect you to be up waiting for him. That’s a honeymoon phase thing– you guys have been dating for a while. You’ve gotten into fights. You’ve been living together for a while now. You both have seen the best and worst parts of each other over time, and you’ve gotten comfortable enough in this relationship that you and Trevor are both perfectly okay with your not waiting up for him after every game.

But after a long east coast roadie, Trevor has been missing you. You look so pretty in his big t-shirt. When he peels back the covers, Trevor sees that it has ridden up to show off your stomach. Like you’ve been expecting him, your legs are spread apart and, as always, you’re not wearing panties. 

Trevor smiles. You’re ready for him. 

He bends down and kisses your cheek, then moves slowly to the other. He slides into bed with you, having stripped down to his boxers already, and shifts between your legs. He rolls his hips down into your core, his clothed bulge gliding against your folds.

You stir, the hand resting next to your face on the pillow coming up to blearily wipe at your eyes. “Trevor?” you rasp, confused and sleepy. 

“Hi, sweetheart, sorry for waking you,” Trevor whispers. He purses his lips and brushes them against yours. 

“S’okay,” you reply. “How was the game tonight?”

“It was fine.” Trevor kisses down your neck and brings his fingers to your slit. “I missed you.”

He can feel your cheeks shifting as your lips widen into a smile. “You are such a horny guy,” you tease.

Trevor pushes a finger into your heat, feeling the slide grow easier with each thrust. “Can’t help it when my girl is so pretty,” he says. 

“Hmm,” you hum. “Be quick. Wanna cuddle.” You close your eyes and take a deep breath, lifting one of your legs and wrapping it around his waist. 

Trevor leaves his lips in contact with your cheek as he pulls his finger from your body and fishes his cock out of his boxers, fucking into your pussy at an unhurried pace. You’re so warm and tight; Trevor hasn’t fucked you in days and he knows he won’t last an impressive amount of time. You told him to be quick anyway. Once his pelvis is flush with yours, Trevor breathes in deeply through his nose and kisses down the curve of your neck. He wraps his arms around your middle and splays his fingers across your lower back, lifting you slightly to provide a better angle for your pleasure… although he’s admittedly not aiming to get you off right now.

Trevor rocks forward in aborted movements. Your gummy inner walls hug his cock tightly, rubbing against the nerve endings along his shaft and tip in a way that has him panting in just minutes. 

Your hand comes up to the nape of his neck, pushing into his hair. He feels like he can feel your nails scratching his scalp better now that he cut his hair shorter, even though that’s nonsensical. You sigh contentedly in his ear, chest rising and brushing his. “Fill me up, T,” you croon, pulling him even closer with the leg wrapped around his waist. “Know you want to. I’ll keep your cum inside all night and you can fuck me again in the morning. I’ll ride you, hm? How’s that?”

Trevor feels his cock throb, feels his balls grow tighter just before you clench down on him and he shoots off inside of you. Trevor feels like his brain turns to mush as he comes, his limbs loosening and lips smushing against your skin. He lays atop you when his cock is done twitching and leaking, breathing in the smell of your shampoo and soap and the natural smell that is so you. He could fall asleep right here.

You push at his shoulder and insist that he sleeps on his side of the bed rather than on top of you. 

Still, Trevor pulls you into his side and falls asleep with his nose against the crown of your head.

V.

You’ve been feeling especially feral today. You’re not sure why, but every time you look at Trevor, a lightning strike travels through your body and the energy settles riiight between your legs. 

He’s not even doing anything hot. You’re actually pretty sure you saw him biting his nails earlier and that itch on his nose might have been him digging for gold. You are not sure and you’d looked away so that you could give yourself the benefit of the doubt and convince yourself that, yes, he’d just been itching his nose. Nothing more than that. He’s not that gross. He might be a boy, but he’s not that gross. Surely.

Even if he is a gross, disgusting boy who bites his nails and might pick his nose when he thinks no one is looking… you’re absolutely feral for him today. 

Trevor is sitting on the couch watching TV. His legs are spread wide, creating a nice space just for you.

You’re sitting on the other end, torn between scrolling on your phone and staring at your boyfriend. You think you’re caught staring when Trevor’s hand shifts to his lap and covers his cock, the slight bulge of which you could see in his boxer-briefs. Your eyes widen, then your gaze flies to his face. 

And Trevor is just staring at the TV. He gives his cock an absentminded squeeze and moves his fingers over his length briefly, then stretches his arm out over the back of the couch.

You suddenly blink to yourself and draw your eyebrows together. Why the fuck are you still turned on by a man who just scratched his balls right in front of you?

You need to get this out of your system or else you’re going to be distracted for the rest of the day. So, for the first time, you approach your boyfriend and straddle his lap, planting yourself on his cock and grinding down. 

Trevor is delighted by this turn of events, you can tell by the silly smile on his face. His hands come to your sides and pinch your hips. “Hey, pretty girl,” he greets, his attention now on you rather than the screen.

“Take your cock out,” you command before tugging your shirt over your head and dropping it on the coffee table. “I want you to suck my tits while I fuck myself on it.”

Trevor’s eyes light up and he lifts his hips, shuffling his briefs down until his cock springs free. You can see it reacting to your presence and you wonder, very quickly, if he’s still itchy at all. You stamp the thought down and forget it as soon as it comes, rising up on your knees and lining his cock up with your entrance. 

Since you’ve been turned on all day, your pussy has been ready to accept Trevor since the moment you clambered onto his lap. Once aligned, you sink down and take him. You move your hips in figure-eights, gyrating and finding the pleasure you enjoy. When you’re riding Trevor in an effort to make him come, you’ll bounce– but that’s never brought a climax to your body on its own. No, for you, it feels better when you rock your hips and roll your pelvis forward in a scooping motion, punctuated by a series of bounces here and there just to shake things up.

You close your eyes and lean your head back, facing the ceiling in a relaxed pose. You can feel yourself being consumed by the movement of Trevor’s cock inside of you and how it presses against sensitive spot after sensitive spot.

You’re sure if you look down right now, Trevor will be staring at you like he’s looking into the face of God. When you’d first talked about free use, he’d made it very clear that he didn’t want it to just be about him. He spoke at length about how if you wanted to use him, he’d be more than willing. In fact, over the time that you guys have been practicing this newfound kink, Trevor has had to remind you that he wants to be used. You’re finally doing it.

He fulfills your request shortly after you find your groove. His teeth encircle your nipple and tug, his hands wrapping around your back and pulling you closer like he just can’t get enough. He alternates between your breasts, licking and sucking until your nipples are wet, straining, and aching with pleasure. 

Your stomach thrums with excitement, clit swollen and making contact with Trevor’s abdomen when you swivel your hips just right. You repeat the motion over and over again until it’s just not enough, snaking a hand between your bodies so that you can rub your fingers over the bundle of nerves in rapid passes. You make a soft noise halfway between a whine and a squeal when the balloon of tension in your gut explodes and forces your eyes, closed as they are, to the back of your head. You swear that if your vision wasn’t black, you’d be able to see the back of your skull with how strong his orgasm is. 

Trevor moans against your tits, bucking up twice and spilling into your heat, adding to the mixture of warmth that is coursing through your body and making you feel like jelly. You sag against him and Trevor holds you tight, burying his face between your breasts and kissing your sternum. He stays there for only a moment before kissing a line up your neck to your lips. “Fuck, that was so sexy,” Trevor breathes out. “Let’s do it again.”

i need to write a dom trevor fic soon bc hot so we might see some free use in that too, these were all pretty soft so

[fidogo]

john price x reader, but accidentally running into the 141 after only going on a few dates with Price wc: 0.9K warnings: mentions of sex, age gap, daddy kink, dacryphilia, use of sweetheart + angel a/n: I make such a stupid joke in this about Ghost and Soap LMAO forgive me part 2

The pub was warm, a sweet haven from the chill outside. It was already decked out with cheap garlands and holiday lights, all hung with care. Your friends tear off to the bar to order a few drinks, leaving you to find a booth. 

You slink through the chairs and the tables, making a beeline to the one available booth. You’re about to get nice and cozy when you stop in your tracks. 

He’s here.

You didn’t know John terribly well. The two of you had only gone on a few very successful dates, but you were not close enough to know who he was sitting with.

What you did know was this:

1. John was older than you.

2. He was an absolute gentleman whenever he took you out.

3. He really liked when you called him daddy and liked fucking you until you were in tears (and after...especially after). 

Back to the three men at the table with him. Given their demeanor, it was safe to assume they were also military. One of them was maybe Gaz/Kyle...bu that was it.

Your feet move automatically. (Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you wonder if you should stop walking and go back to the booth you found. Maybe it’s too early to meet his friends.)

The men’s boisterous voices quiet as you approach, and the one with a mohawk elbows one who's masked. You ignore them, focusing on John, whose face softens a smidge (and his eyes light up).

“Hi, John.” You’re a little more nervous than you thought you would be. (He had you creaming on his cock and whining like you were in heat the other night. This should be nothing!)

“Hi, Sweetheart,” he answers, standing to kiss your cheek. “What’re you doing here?” His eyes are warm and earnest, immediately putting your anxieties to rest.

“Just getting a drink with my friends before the new year. Things are about to pick up, so we’re trying to just get a drink one last time.” John looks at you so fondly, it warms your heart. Fuck the alcohol, fuck the fire or radiator or whatever’s in here, all you need is John Price to look at you like this to make you warm and toasty. 

“Would you all want to sit with us?” He asks, knocking on the table. You glance at the table full table, trying not to laugh at his friend's expressions (shock and disbelief coupled with some respect for Price). 

Remembering his manners, John introduces you to his men and places one large, strong, hand on the small of your back.  You lean into him slightly, trying to not seem too pleased to be here with him. 

“This is Gaz, Soap, and Ghost,” John introduces. You freeze, confused for a second. You thought..... Oh. Oh.

“Oh.” You say aloud. Stupidly. John quirks a brow at you, prompting you to ramble on.

“I’m sorry. To be candid, I thought Soap and Ghost were your dogs..." you say trailing off at the end.

To be fair, he had only ever been to your place. You stare at Soap and Ghost. Based on the small amount of information you knew, you had just assumed...

John lets out a deep laugh and pulls you closer into his side. 

“What?” Soap yells. He’s no longer checking you out appreciatively and just looks at you in disbelief. “How could you think that, lassie?” 

“Well, John seems like a man who lives alone with two big dogs that have manly names.” You explain, sinking more into John’s side, trying to embed yourself into this warmth.

His thumb lightly strokes your back, sending shivers up your spine. He's so big and strong and... Your brain turns to mush for a second.

“Well, what about Gaz?” Soap gestures to said man, trying desperately to make any ground in this. Your push away your vaguely horny thoughts. You have to lock back in for Kyle's sake. You smile at Gaz and politely extend your hand. 

“No, I knew Kyle was a man. A pleasure to meet you.” Gaz shakes your hand and beams while Soap slumps over, and Ghost looks like he’s rethinking how he got here.

“Need to work on your manners. That way when Captain talks about you, people don’t think you're dogs,” Gaz says drawing out and emphasizing dogs with a cheeky smile. Soap just grumbles. 

“Anyway,” you start to say, turning your attention back to John. “My friends and I are about to take that booth back there, but thank you for the offer. But call me. Or text.” He nods and leans in to press a quick, chaste to your lips. 

“Have a good night, Sweetheart.” You nod before going to finally claim your booth. 

You hear Soap ask why John ‘calls Kyle by his name but not me or Simon’, making you smile. They seem nice.

And then you hear what you assume to be Ghost, say, “Not bad, Captain. Not bad at all.”

You preen at that, chipper mood carrying you through the night, even as your friends bombard you with questions once they’re all seated.

You wave shyly at John and his friends when they eventually file out into the cold. John sends you a wink that has you sinking into the booth. You’re so fucked. 

About 15 minutes later, your phone buzzes.

Can’t stop thinking about you, angel

Apparently, he’s fucked too.

part 2

[non-plutonian-druid]

[ID: Fanart of darklordofawesomeness's Cat Stan AU.

The first drawing is labelled 'Chapter 58 - Cat Mania' and has a lineup of Stan, Mabel, Wendy, Dipper, and Soos as cats. Stan is fluffy and dark brown with white markings. Mabel and Dipper are nearly-identical brown kittens, with white markings on their face. Wendy is a fluffy mostly-red calico, and is in the leggy stage of being a kitten. Soos is a fat light brown tabby, with a short tail.

In the next image: cat Stan carries kitten Mabel by the scruff of her neck while kitten Dipper marches behind them; Stan as a human holds up a pissed off kitten Wendy; Ford lies on his stomach holding a camera and kicking his feet; cat Soos lies on his back.

In the third image: cat Stan gives kitten Dipper a cat bath while Soos lies behind them and Mabel crawls all on Stan's back; in the same pose, Stan looks up but holds down Dipper while he tries to escape, and Mabel sits on Stan's head, posing cutely.

In the fourth, cat Stan brings kitten Mabel and Dipper over to Ford, who is lying in bed looking tired. He pets Stan and says " Am I supposed to be giving you more cat socialization? Shit." In the second drawing, Ford, now a cat, stands over cat Stan. Stan says "What the fuck" and Ford says "I had an idea." Then Ford bites Stan's ear.

In the last two images, cat Stan leaps off of Ford's back; and kitten Wendy bites Manly Dan's hand. End ID]

More cats from @dark-lord-of-awesomeness's Cat Stan series! This time from Chapter 58 of Cat Stan Shorts, in which the kids and Soos accidentally turn themselves into cats and, as with all things, it's entirely Ford's fault

[kaivenom]

It's always one piece dilfs with a younger spouse and never OP DILFs with an even older spouse (possibly milf)

One Piece Dilfs x MILF!reader

Characters: Mihawk, Doflamingo, Crocodile, Smoker,Shanks.

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

He say he doesn't care about your age and it's mostly true but...

When you get mandatory, badass or just independent strong being, he just melts.

Normal life and normal behavior except that he gets a little submissive around you.

Even if he doesn't show, he is at your feet.

Feet massages, relaxing bathtubes, chatting with wine and reading in slience are ones of your favourites activities together.

He doesn't have the need to be extremely chivalrous but sometimes, when he gets jelaous, he can start carrying you in bridal style, getting flowers, putting his arm on your waist...

You both don't need to be chatty or noisy to express your love, you both are really experienced in subbtle affection.

Donquixote Doflamingo

A big simp.

At first he saw you as a threat, but like, for just a little amount of time.

Then he started to see you as some type of monument or muse, someone older and worse than him (in his good way).

He started following your steps really close, to the point you thought he was a stalker.

He justified that he was learning from you.

Plot twist, the moment you gave him a kiss and a smile, he never stopped asking for them, and know you are his spouse.

He likes to hoard all your attention and never leave you alone with any other person his age or similar, he gets really jelaous.

The best of everything is yours and you are the only one that can yell at him at public.

The excuse it's that your age and experience gives you the right to question his leadership, but don't worry, he gets payback later.

Sr. Crocodile

At first he doesn't know if it's cause you are more experienced that him or that you are powerfull and ready to challenge him, but automatically he feels driven to you.

Once he gets the signals right and knows that you feel it too, he would absolutely ask you out.

No shame, he is your sugar daddy, even though you are older.

He is just a simp at your feet (he doesn't show it in public).

He orders the best buffets, hotel rooms, dates, etc.

Only the best for the best.

You always say that you don't mind him spending money on you or not but he never stops giving you his money.

Nobody expects it but you both are really cuddly when you both are alone, sometimes he is even the little spoon (rarely).

Smoker

You were his superior, so everytime he could he would either melt under your orders/pressence or try to show his worth and question you.

His mind had the "chain of command doesn't allow relationships" mantra really sticked into his head but when he got promoted and didn't saw you that often, he started to realize things.

He went full gentleman mode, to impress you.

He did all the things by manual and finally, you accepted marrying him.

That didn't stop him from being flustered by your pressence and worried of you being ashamed of him on social meetings.

He beomes something like your leash husband, always close and disciplined, following your orders (hoping his crew doesn't find out).

Very manly and anxious, he really really doesn't want to ruin your career. This led to the point where you have to always reassure him.

Akagami Shanks

He is oblivious, since he doesn't care for a lot of things, he just thought that you were funny and beautiful, that's it.

Then his crew started to make him see his patterns: remembering special things you said, getting you specific things (a sleeping mask, skincare, clothes).

Small things that just demostrate how much he listens to you and how much he gets the details.

So, gifts are a must every day, even if it's just him giving you a plate of food.

He starts to get into skincare and what you both call now "A spa day off", when he isn't the captain and you are just a couple that spends the day eating and resting.

If you have an actual spa near by, then you go there. Most of the time, you both improvise something on the ship and nobody dares to go where you both are.

For Shanks, that are the best moments with you cause he can see you taking care of yourself, you can take care of him and he can take it for himself (especially for his ghost pain on the arm.

[petew21-blog]

My brother's friend Billy

This is my brother's friend Billy. They have been friends since I can remember. And ever since I knew him, I was obsessed with him. I looked up to him, but I was always blown away how beautiful he was. It didn't matter that he and my brother bullied me. Whenever he touched me, I was in heaven.

Especially amazing was the moment I found out, how to shapeshift into other people. All I needed was one piece of clothing worn by that person and I would become them. At first it happened to me when I used my brother's shirt instead of mine accidentally. I immediately shifted into his exact copy. I was shocked, but curious to explore more. But someone was coming close to my room, so I quickly threw away his shirt, put on mine and waited for the changes to shift back.

And that's when my quest to get Billy's clothing started. But it was really hard to get clothes from someone who didn't live at our house.

One day our parents decided to visit grandparents for a weekend and leave us alone at the house. My brother obviously invited Billy and some girls. They invited me to join them too. I mostly spoke to the girls and from time to time checked if Billy did take of some piece of clothing.

They got drunk pretty soon and moved to my brother's bedroom. I waited outside the door for the moans to stop. After some time I decided to enter. It was dark and they were all sleeping already. God knows what they did together...

I checked for some underwear, shirt or something else that would be Billy's. Finally I found a sock. I grabbed it and carefully left the room.

I entered my room and locked the door, stripping myself, leaving only my underwear on. I sniffed the sock. It was dirty and slightly wet. This sock was on his beautiful foot! I was about to become my dreamy guy. The one I desired the most.

I took my dick in one hand and started jerking off. With my second hand, I clumsily tried to get it on. After a few unsuccesful attempts I managed to do it.

I felt the changes. I felt as my hair elonged into his. My face changing structure. My body enlarging, but my abs protruding. My legs became hairier.

My feet were finally his. I put his leg to my nose. What others would describe as a cheesy disgusting smell, I couldn't get enough of. It was so strong, manly and Billy! I look exactly like Billy!

As my hands explored my beautiful feet, my forearms brushed over the hairy legs. I continued to feel my big, full lips, my pointy nose. My hairy pits that I inhaled for a long time and licked even longer. I also tried to lick, make out and suck Billy's hot biceps, trying to do a hickey on it. Then my left hand gave more attention to the forming tent. I threw away the underwear binding me from the proper enjoyment.

I was now completely naked. Billy was naked in my bed! Or atleast his body. I started humping my bed and touching myself in the process. I felt so strong and horny.

I grabbed my phone to take some photos. I need to document this!

I did many shots of his body from above, close shots of his feet, his pits, his gorgeous dick, his ass.

I did shots that would be amazing for me to jerk off to in case I would have to give back his clothes

I loved his veiny arms. His nipples. His lean and tight body.

I felt more and more like Billy. I wanted to be with his body all the time. To smell his scent. To have him for myself.

When I took last photo of Billy's body on my bed, covered in a towel, there was a knock on the door.

I looked at the phone. It was morning already! "FUCK"

I took off Billy's sock and put on my own clothes, putting his sock in my pocket.

I opened the door.

"Hey, perv. Did you take Billy's sock? He can't find it anywhere, so I need to check if you did not jerk into it?"

"Fuck off. Of course I didn't take it. Didn't he leave it in the living room? You guys partied there pretty hard. Maybe he threw it somewhere"

They all went to look in the living room, which gave me chance to put his sock under my brother's pilllow.

They did not give up the search and eventualy found it, which made me a bit sad, because now I didn't have any clothing that would turn me to Billy.

I became obsessed with the photos I took when I was shifted into him. I jerked off to those photos every day like 5 times.

But something changed in me. When Billy came over, he played videogames with my brother or talk about girls. As I observed him move, laugh, fart and talk about fucking pussy, I felt disgusted. That's not the way he should be treating that body. I treated it better. He doesn't deserve it!

I realised I was not obsessed with Billy. I was obsessed with his body. Therefore I made a plan to make his body mine. I shapshifted into my brother, lured Billy into our house and took care of it.

Yeah, maybe there would be a less messy way to do that. Maybe I should have seen a therapist before all of this. Maybe leaving traces of my blood in my room and leaving my brothers fingerprints on the knife were a bit too much. But what was I suppose to do? My old body would be missing and I had to pin it on someone. And who better then the guy who spent the most time with Billy? He would definitely find out that I'm not the original Billy.

You can call me cold or heartless. But watching from my car as the police dragged away my ex-brother for possible murder of my old body was satisfying. I am now completely Billy and there is no one stopping me.

There is only one thing left. What should I do with Billy's dead body in my trunk?

[malereadermaniac]

Gym ~ Holland!Peter Parker x Male Reader

Top!Peter x Bottom!Reader cw: Working out n sweat, body worship, Bottom reader & top Peter, hand kink (kinda), underwear n sock stuff word count: 1.3k Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI

Holland!Peter who likes to have you 'help' him as he works out in your home-gym. You motivate the hero throughout his workouts, laying under him as he does push-ups; rewarding your muscular boyfriend with a short n sweet kiss every time he lowers himself

Holland!Peter who uses you instead of weights whenever he can, especially when doing hip-thrusts. The handsome man having you sit on his hips, your ass literally on Peter's clothed crotch, as he grunts and groans with every raise of his hips - his dick obviously hardening underneath you with every thrust. The brunette's rough, veiny hand on your hip so firmly, keeping you in place as his other masculine hand rests in its rightful place on your thigh

Holland!Peter loving how evidently flustered you get when he works out with you, even though you try to hide the blush on your face behind your sassy/sarcastic facade. The hero knows you, like the back of his hand, so he not only tries to get his own weird pleasure out you 'helping' him but also to tease you from time to time; and he achieves this every time... It's not like it's hard, Peter knows what gets you going and uses it to his advantage, like keeping you below him and letting his sweat drip onto you, or keeping a firm grip on you, just to remind you of how fucking strong he actually is

Holland!Peter who always gets frisky during his workouts. Hey! Endorphins pair really fuckin' well with dopamine from having sex with the guy he fucking adores (you!). The hero's dick gets fully erect barely halfway through his session most of the time, resulting in Peter dropping subtle hints at you helping him out. Subtle as in wolf-whistling you when you bend over or smirking down at the tent in his sweatpants to get your attention.

Holland!Peter who fucking loves to have you suck him off while he lifts weights. He'll be doing bicep curls above you as you're on your knees in front of the brunette, absolutely going ham on his thick dick. His sweaty, hot balls and dick smell of his manly musk as you kiss and lick his shaft and sack, making the man above you groan as he sweats from exercise and being horny. Shit really hits the fan when your fully sucking Peter off; sloppily deepthroating his thick, veiny cock as his thick bush of sweaty pubes stuff your nose with his intoxicating scent. It turns you on so much to watch the man workout above you, watching his sweat roll down his abs and down his v-line as you pleasure him oh so nicely, his moans echoing in your gym along with grunts of your name.

Holland!Peter who loves it when you worship and praise his body after a workout, his glistening muscles lookin' so attractive as the hero sits on a changing bench and sprawls out his body (because yes, you two decided to also install a changing room for your private gym, and yes it was mainly to have sex in). Peter's dick will re-harden instantly as you kiss his collarbone, lick his sweaty pecks and kiss down his abs and all the way down to his sweaty feet. Your praises of how his body is "incredible" and "godly" and "sexy" really stroking his ego, getting his hormones raring.

Holland!Peter loving the way you look below him, kissing at his feet, making direct eye-contact as you submit to him; he's not the type to be dominant, but FUCK does he feel so horny when you go out of your way to to please him. He always offers his hand out to you, knowing how feral you go for his veiny, rough hands which have saved hundreds of lives. Peter's dick twitches like crazy as he watches you suck his fingers off as if they were his cock, his eyes unable to leave you as you work your tongue sloppily around his sexy fingers, looking into his eyes as your spit dribbles down the sides of your mouth and your chin.

Holland!Peter making you with you desperately and sloppily as you sit on his lap, your sweaty ass sticking to his thick, tired thighs. The feeling of your boyfriend's masculine hands spreading your cheeks never gets old, his fingers cutely prodding at your tight entrance in a curious and impatient manner; Peter always wanting to feel more of you, pleasure you and himself as quickly as possible.

Holland!Peter who fucking loves to watch you do your best to take his big, thick cock - positioning his dick to your entrance and slowly sinking down on your boyfriend's shaft. The brunette gets butterflies in his stomach at the sight of you putting in so much effort to get him inside of you, your face contorting in pain and pleasure just hittin' that spot for Peter so damn well

Holland!Peter who just can't help himself, he tries to give you as much time as he can to adjust to his girth, but you're just too perfect - your walls so warm and tight around Peter, your body fitting together with his like a puzzle, your panting face above him, it all just results in the brunette starting to thrust up into you without even thinking about it! But god does it feel so fucking good, your loud cries and moans of his name and "too big", "too much", and "fuck" turning your boyfriend on to the max, his desperation to pleasure himself and you giving him the confidence to take the lead and fuck you in whatever way he wants

Holland!Peter who gets off to seeing you desperately struggle yet fail to moan out his name due to his dirty, sweaty socks or underwear stuffing your mouth and acting as a gag. The brunette's dick twitching against your tight, warm walls as he drills in your prostate, watching as you squirm against his lap and become overwhelmed by his salty taste in your mouth and his musky scent in your nose - the entire changing room now smelling of both your sweat and his, along with the filthy smell of sex and fluids. Peter's hands feel correct on your hips, holding you tightly as the hero forces you up and down on his cock, his moans of your name making your dick twitch with ever jab at your prostate

Holland!Peter who can't hold himself back for too long, his body jolting forwards and enveloping your body with his sweaty, muscular one, his arms around your waist and his teeth in your shoulder as he breaths in your scent and groans into your shoulder; shooting his thick load deep inside of you. His sweaty garments would fall out of your mouth finally, allowing you to moan and whine as your own dick shoots ropes of white cum onto both your stomach and Peter's, your prostate being milked by your boyfriend's thick dick. Your nails claw down the hero's back, your toes curling in pleasure as you bask in the afterglow, inhaling your strong boyfriend's smell as he does the same as he kisses the marks he had left on your body during your passionate little moment.

Holland!Peter who just wants to rest with you a little. He doesn't care that his dick is still inside of you, or that his cum is slowly dripping out of your hole. The brunette just wants to hold you near, feel you as he kisses your body as little 'thank you's' for being so good to him. Of course, after a few enjoyable moments together, Peter remembers how horribly uncomfortable you must be and gets the two of you into a shower - cleaning you up and out, washing your hair for you and massaging your scalp as you get drowsy from the steam and the cardio. Fuck he treats you so damn well...