#might make a Chris

[chrisrin]

Tycoon is here, to steal your heart!

[kari-go]

[stucky-headcanon-bot]

🤬

[struniolos]

wish you were sober! pt. 2

“save me 'til the party is over.”

chris sturniolo x fem! reader.

synopsis: when reader is overwhelmed at a party & finds herself in unlikely company. (no fame au.) this is the second part, you can find the first part here.

warnings: smut, literally pure filth. minors do not interact. also unprotected sex, don’t try this at home kids! don’t be silly wrap your willy!

the music in the background becomes a soft lull of bass, as your ears almost completely tune it out. you fully let yourself transport into another world. your lips move in tandem with chris’ as your hand snakes up his shirt to feel his warm skin, your fingers tangled in loops of his soft hair. he’s breathing heavier now, puffing hot air into your lungs. you breathe him in, sucking his tongue and moaning as you feel him snake a hand to your butt, gripping it hard.

you find yourself unable to possibly get any closer to him, wanting to jump out of your skin into his if it was possible. your cheeks are burning, the cool breeze wafting through the slightly cracked window not seeming to help. his hips start to slowly roll into you, both his hands now coming up to cup your cheeks as he kisses you deep.

“i want to taste you.” chris whispers into your mouth between kisses, your foreheads bumping together.

you feel your pussy throb at the thought of him devouring you, his head between your legs. you nod, biting your lips as you help him hoist you up onto the bench top, your back leaning against the mirror. his eyes were a darker blue than you remember, swirling with lust. chris pushes your skirt up, revealing your panties that constricted your soaked pussy. a wet patch lay at your folds, and you feel a flush of shame wash over your body, and you cover your face with your hands.

“don’t be embarrassed.” he tells you, “it’s actually kinda hot.”

“oh.” you grin, lowering your hands.

“can i?” he asks, running his palms up your thighs.

you nod. “please.”

chris pulls your panties down to your ankles, and pushes your legs apart softly. you feel so exposed, the air coming in contact with your sex making you shudder. he begins peppering kisses over your inner thighs and pelvis, everywhere but where you needed him. you squirm impatiently, and he raises an eyebrow.

“relax.” he says softly, as he runs a finger down your folds to collect your slick.

seemingly testing the waters, he flattens his hot tongue against your pussy, licking a long stripe. you throw your head back against the mirror, letting out a pathetic whimper. chris uses his thumbs to pry you open, nuzzling his nose to your clit as he begins his assault on your starved pussy.

he was encased in your legs, his arms looped under your thighs and coming around to hold your lower stomach. one hand began to rub your sensitive bud in slow circles while the other held you open for him to dive his tongue in and out of your opening. you swear you saw stars, as he tongue fucked you. he dipped it in and out, collecting your juices and muffling his moans. you were a mess, moaning and squirming in his arms. his hand on your lower belly held you in place, as his finger left your clit and sunk into your walls.

“oh god!” you yelp, your hand quickly gripping onto a tuft of his hair.

chris pushed your thighs up so that they pressed against your stomach, folding you in half. he pumped his finger in and out of your leaking hole as he nuzzles his face into your pussy. you whimper and cry as his pace is relentless, feeling your orgasm building up in your lower stomach. you were embarrassed at how quickly you were going to finish, but you couldn’t help it, the way he had managed to work you up in such little time amazed you.

“chris i’m- oh!” you cry, feeling yourself convulse around his fingers as he helps you ride out the wave of your orgasm. your legs quiver in his grip, as he gives your pussy one last lick, soaking up your wetness.

as chris lowers your legs back down gently, you meet eye to eye with him. he swallows as he catches his breath, his hair mussed and lips glossy and puffed. you pull him in for a deep kiss, not caring that you could taste yourself on his tongue. he tosses his shirt off in one swift movement, and you quickly do the same- only leaving you in a bra and your skirt. he palmed your breasts, his whole hand encasing each one as he squeezed. you wrapped your arms around his neck tightly, unsure if you were able to possibly pull him any closer.

you begin to palm his crotch, feeling his rock hard heat, but he stops you.

“you don’t have to.” he tells you breathlessly, his hands swiping down your cheeks to rest on your neck, his thumps at your lips.

you kiss the pads of them, “i want to.”

his tongue wets his lips, a devilishly handsome smirk adoring his face. no other words were needed. you take his thumb into your mouth, letting it rest on your hot tongue as you suck it briefly before letting go with a pop. chris’ eyes are fixed on you, mesmerised. he wastes no time in assisting you to undo and pull down his shorts, both of your hands fumbling together desperately. his shorts pool at his ankles, his cock visibly strained in his boxers.

you bite your lip as you feel your mouth water at the sight of him. you have never been so turned on in your life. you swap places, so chris leans against the counter, his chest slightly flushed as well as his cheeks and the tips of his ears that are peaking from under his hair. he stares at you with lidded eyes as you kneel, in direct eyeline with his boxers.

quickly and albeit a little awkwardly, you pull his boxers down to his thighs to reveal his weeping cock. it slaps up against his lower stomach, and your eyes go wide. god, he was beautiful everywhere. hesitantly, you grab his cock in your hand, feeling the weight and warmth. your mouth kisses the tip as your eyes look up to lock with his. he hisses, the look in his darkened blue eyes nothing short of pleading.

you slowly sink your mouth down his shaft, try to swallow as much of him as you could. realising just how inexperienced you were, you grabbed with your hand whatever you couldn’t get to. you felt a strange pleasure in the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat as hot tears began to prick your eyes. he breathed out gruffly, his hand running through your hair to push it out of your face. there was nowhere to hide now.

you suck him up and down slowly but deeply, lingering at his tip once you’d get there. you use his precum and your saliva as lube, pistoning your mouth up and down his shaft. you try your best to nuzzle your nose at his lower stomach, swallowing him whole, but you only last a few seconds before having to pull yourself back. you cough, and he lets out a primal groan.

“fuck.” chris groans, throwing his head back. “that felt so good.”

you look up at him, batting your lashes. “you liked that?”

“yeah.” he smiled, running his pointer finger over your jaw and eventually coming to hold your chin. “is it okay if i guide you?”

“mhm.” you hum, grinning wide, knowing it means he wants to use you as a toy and fuck your throat.

wanting to please him, you take a deep breath and open your mouth wider and take as much of him as you can, feeling him hit the back of your throat. he grabs the sides of your head, guiding you up and down his length. his pace quickens, starting to thrust into your mouth as you gargle on your saliva, his cock hitting the back of your throat. you clench your inner thighs together, wetness gathering at your folds.

“fuck, i’m not going to last much longer.” he warns, as he pulls you off of him, saliva running down your chin and dripping to your chest. it was filthy.

“then fuck me already.” you growl, grinning wide and feeling a surge of confidence through your body.

he helps you to your feet, embracing you in a hot kiss full of teeth and tongue. he grabs your hips and hoists you up onto the counter once more, flicking your skirt up. his dick was rock hard, seeping with precum. you pressed your foreheads together, as you wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him in closer.

“i don’t have a condom.” he tells you, as you begin to kiss down his neck.

“i don’t care.” you whisper against bod hot skin, just wanting him inside you already. it pained you to think you had to wait a second longer. he nods, seemingly convinced enough- you imagined his mind was blurred with only thoughts of sex just as yours was.

it was all so out of character for you, so foreign- but it was as if he awoken something deep inside of you that you’d struggle to tame.

you uncoil your bra, freeing your breasts. chris dives down to kiss them, holding them together and bouncing them. you moaned, lolling your head back. he sucked on each, licking and biting your rock hard nipples.

“even better than i imagined.” he says, palming and squeezing them.

“you were thinking about my tits?” you laugh, running a hand through his hair.

“well, yeah.” he chuckled, shrugging.

chris began to line up with your entrance, pumping himself lazily. his eyes locked with yours, biting his swollen lips. “make sure you tell me if anything doesn’t feel good or whatever, okay?”

spoken like a true gentlemen. you laugh at his nonchalant nature. “i will.”

he begins to sink the tip into your tight walls, and you hiss at the pressure. he looks at you worriedly, but you shake your head.

“sorry, it’s um…been a while.” you confess shyly.

chris smiles, ducking his head. “me too.”

relief washes over you, feeling a little less like a loser. he continued to push into you, and the slight pain begins to fade away as pleasure takes over. you leaned your foreheads together, breathing heavily as you adjusted to his size. you could see his freckles now, lightly spattered over his nose and cheeks- you imagined they became more visible in the summer.

you begin to nod, urging him onwards. chris grand your waist gently, not too hard, using it as leverage as he began to thrust in and out of you at a leisurely pace.

your jaw falls slack at the feeling, a guttural moan escaping you. you snake your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer as he continued to thrust into you. you felt like a snake constricting it prey before it killed it. something primal in you was emerging.

“fuck.” chris groaned, his head falling to your shoulder. “you’re so tight.”

his thrusts only became more harsh, his pace not increasing but the roughness. it felt so ridiculous good you thought you’d pass out. your hips snapped together, his fingers digging into the flesh of your waist as he began to grunt at each thrust. you were sure you could get off just from hearing the pretty noises he would make in your ear.

it was passionate, not too tough or greedy- he wasn’t only trying to chase his own pleasure. he began thumbing your clit, and you moaned into his mouth, kissing him deeply. he was inside of you so deep you could feel him in your belly, his balls slapping against you. without notice, he pulled out of you, and you almost cried at the loss of contact.

“i’m gonna turn y’round.” he whispers, giving you a firm kiss before spinning you around. you rested your weight on your forearms, and poked your butt out for him to admire. you could see in the foggy reflection of the mirror the way he was looking at you, and it made your pussy flutter.

you yelped in pleasure as he thrust back into you without warning, bottoming out. he moaned messily as he gripped your waist with one hand and palmed your ass with the other. he began thrusting into your harder now, moaning filthily as his mouth hung open.

“faster, please.” you begged, a crying, sweaty mess.

“okay, pretty girl.” he purred, as he began to pump into you harshly, his pace quickening. he pound into you, your walls tightening around him as you felt your orgasm building once more. he lifted you up so your back was to his chest, bodies flush. he snaked an arm around your neck to hold you in place. chris fucked into you mercilessly, as you whimpered and cried for him to go faster, faster as you watched him fuck you through the mirror.

it was hot and filthy, sweat beading at your forehead and a light sheen covering your body. he thrust into you so hard you could barely speak- all you could do was whimper and cry.

“you look so pretty when you make those noises for me.” he praised, thrusting deep inside of you.

“oh god! i’m coming- fuck!” you cried, as you collapsed back onto your forearms, beginning to see stars once more. white hot light flashed around you, as your body shook rapidly as your orgasm took over. chris fucked you through it, your sensitive walls convulsing around him. you could feel he was about to finish, too.

“fuck.” he groaned, as his hips began to jerk. he quickly pulled himself out of you, and you watched in the mirror as he pumped his come all over your back (and probably your skirt).

you felt the sticky hot liquid coat you, and you smiled in satisfaction. he crept over your body to kiss your sweaty cheek. “let me clean you up.”

chris grabbed a bundle of toilet paper and ran it under the tap briefly. he wiped his mess from your skin, as you were collapsed into a heap against the counter, completely satisfied. like you were a hungry animal that had been a fed.

“sorry i um…i tried.” he laughs, pointing to your back.

“it’s okay, i appreciate the effort.” you smile, turning around to give him a slow, sultry kiss.

you pull apart from each other, now face to face once more, still both completely naked (save your skirt). he looked at you so sweetly, like he hadn’t just done the most filthy, vile things to your body. his hair was a mess, his cheeks and chest still flushed and lips puffy. he wasn’t real, you were convinced.

you both got dressed in silence, the weight of the situation starting to come into affect. you couldn’t believe what you’d done, it was so not like you- to not only hook up with someone at a party but someone like chris sturniolo? it was insane. at highschool you never would’ve thought you’d have a chance with him.

“so um, what now?” chris said, snapping you out of your daydream.

you looked over at him, his singlet sticking to his body and muscles taught and sweaty.

“i guess we go down stairs and act like nothing happened.” you shrug, saddened by the thought but knowing it was what would usually happen in these situations.

“or, we could go somewhere else?” chris suggested, zipping his shorts back up.

your heart fluttered, and you swore you felt it skip two beats. “somewhere else?”

he nods, grabbing your hand. “you could come back to my house, matt wouldn’t mind. the van has plenty of room.”

“okay.” you smile giddily. you couldn’t believe this was happening, there was no way this beautiful man wanted to spend more time with you.

chris tucks a hair behind your ear. “what d’you say?”

“why not.” you shrug, trying to act nonchalant as you thread your fingers through his to hold onto his hand tighter.

you and chris quickly make your way down the stairs, hand in hand, as he drags you through the thick crowd of drunk and high twenty-somethings, the music so loud you could feel it in your throat. never had you felt so alive.

[nombitenary]

Spelunking.

Super short (2.5K) self indulgent story of a borrower!you getting caught by Christopher and swallowed up <3 Maybe bring better equipment next time you try borrowing from a maneater...

G/t, ambiguous ending, rope play in the throat, and mentions of fatal <3 enjoy!

You can’t believe you got caught.

The man who lives in the apartment you’ve been borrowing from is home so rarely that you suppose you’ve gotten careless. After all, he’s never around to hear your heavy footsteps on the counters or the scrabbling of clumsy hands against drawers. His two cats are easy enough to maneuver around as well, seeing as one of them is trained well enough to not go on the counter, and to scream at the other one whenever it gets the bright idea of chasing you along the countertop. 

You’d been testing your new rope, tying it to all manner of things in the kitchen and letting yourself be slowly lowered off the edges of drawers, tables, counters… and hadn’t been bothering to keep your laughter at your successes quiet, nor the thuds of your tiny boots as you’d climbed up the edges of his walls and cabinets. 

Everything had been going so well that you’d somehow missed the sound of the bedroom door opening and the light in the hallway, and by the time you realized that something was amiss… was only due to clawed fingers wrapping around your waist and a soft coo of: “Oh, what do we have here?”

And now, here you are, dangling between his fingers from the rope you’d thought had been such a clever tool to get around the maze of his apartment. You can’t bring yourself to speak as you stare up at him meekly, the light reflecting off his glasses making his eyes seem cold and far away- near impossible to read. 

He hasn’t spoken since his initial greeting, if you can even call it that. All he’s done is stare at you with that coldness in his eyes, almost as if he’s calculating something- blinking every now and again, though it does nothing to set your mind at ease. If anything, it makes you feel worse, and when he opens his lips and finally speaks to you properly-

“Well. You should fit. This should be interesting.”

-it does nothing to calm your nerves. 

Before you can ask him what he means, the air is forced out of your lungs by him tugging on your little rope, effortlessly and haphazardly lifting you into the air above his face and leaving you to stare down at him in terrified disbelief. You’ve never met this human before, but from what you’ve gathered, there’s nothing too horrible about him. 

With your lower lip trembling, you look down into his deep brown eyes, searching for any trace of a joke or flickers of sympathy. 

What you receive in return is a toothy smirk. One that plays out almost in slow motion, leaving you helpless to watch as his lips curl away from his teeth, showing the gleaming, drool-slicked and sharp points lining his gums. Your heart starts racing at the sight of them, and again, you try to find your words- but you’re once again interrupted by something terrifying. 

Those teeth were bad enough on their own, but as you stare down at Christopher’s freckled face… they begin to part. 

A warm blast of air rises from the chasm opening beneath you and you find yourself unable to look away as the huge muscle of his tongue shifts- easily the size of a small mattress and just as cushioned- moving from one side of the pink and dripping cavern to the other. The surface of it flexes in waves, and you follow the muscle back toward the darkest pit in the back of his jaws- marked by a swinging uvula and a streamlined tunnel designed to cram anything it can fit inside down.

His throat flexes, and his whole mouth shifts at once- a mess of moving pieces and parts and flesh and teeth rearranging to allow him a soft swallow- and when it opens again, strings of drool connect the bottom of his jaws to the top like the bars of a prison cell. 

Unable to speak, your own mouth opens and closes as you watch his throat shift with his every breath, the idle motions of his tongue twitching and swaying as more and more saliva floods the cavern. 

You’re transfixed, though the spell breaks when his grip on your rope abruptly falters- sending you falling a few inches closer to the gaping maw with a scream. 

A laugh rolls over you in response, and you gasp, clutching the rope in your fingers despite the knot keeping you secure. You’re spinning now, watching the gullet beneath you pulse as you rotate, unable to keep yourself from noticing that it seems to be pulsing in anticipation, the tongue stretching out from between those lips as if to echo the sentiment. 

He’s going to eat you.

No. No, he won’t. 

Surely he won’t. 

Despite not being human, you think for a moment that you’ll be able to appeal to his sympathy, though when you manage to tear your gaze away from his maw to try looking into his eyes--

The rope slides easily through his fingers, and with a rush of air, you plummet- your scream being cut off and muffled by his tongue greeting you. It all but wraps around your sides, and you feel it constrict, pinning your arms to your torso as its owner tips his head back and allows you to fall backward into the cage of his mouth. 

You scream as the tongue folds over you greedily, drinking in your flavour and slathering you in thick saliva. The surface won’t stop moving beneath your hands- cushy and soft and speckled with taste buds that leave a faint bumpy texture pressing against your palms and fingers- though when he abruptly licks you again, you’re flipped onto your side, helpless to do anything but let his tongue squish tightly against your back. The muscle is hot and explorative, wasting no time in dragging its tip along your flailing limbs. 

Everything around you is hot and slick, but the more you fight against it, the more of his saliva seeps through your clothes, soaking your skin and causing you to slip around easily in the chasm of his mouth. A zigzag of light filtering between his teeth is the only way for you to see the warm pink of his tongue as it continues to effortlessly bat you and part of your flimsy rope around. 

It’s… so easy for him. 

So easy to treat you as nothing more than a sweet treat. You find yourself pushed against his fangs more than once, and each time, you suck in a sharp breath and wait for him to chew you to pieces- all the while trying to peer out past his lips for one more glance at the world you’re leaving behind.

You don’t get one. 

All your squirms earn you is more buffeting from the tongue, more hums of delight from the throat that you know is yawning wide behind you, but you don’t allow yourself to look at it, trying instead to drag yourself forward in the dripping mouth of the beast. You’re close. Your fingers reach the very edge of his gums and you strain to pull yourself up from his gullet even as you feel your legs brush the very edge of his throat.

A throat that twitches eagerly, the muscles there relaxing with a soft slrrrk of noise- and you yelp as you find yourself falling deeper into the squishy tube. 

“NO-”

The tongue that had been idly sloshing you around arches, filling his mouth and squeezing the air from your lungs in a strangled cry- though you don’t have time to be worried about that as you realize what the predator’s doing.

Swallowing. He’s swallowing. The gullet behind you lurches, a tiny hlrk and a bob of the muscles behind you causing you to throw your arms forward as gravity changes- but you’re too covered in saliva to get a grip on anything. Instead, you’re forced to feel his uvula drag across the back of your shoulders as he hums- the noise loud enough to make your chest feel like it’s buzzing. 

You’re squashed under his uvula entirely with another firm swallow, leaving you scrambling against the plush back of his tongue as you try to reach the swinging tab of flesh. Your fingers are tangled tightly in your rope, clutching it in utter desperation. It’s still holding fast. Still tied to something. 

You try to remember if you saw it caught between his molars or canines as you try to hoist yourself further up his gullet- barely able to even paw the backmost part of his tongue in your attempts to reach freedom. It’s still somewhat taut, taut enough that there’s hope…

…as light falls over you, you look up from the depths of his throat, for one fleeting moment allowing yourself to think that he’s about to cough you up. It must be a mistake. He seems like a kind enough man, and you shift your position slightly to see better, wiping a string of drool out of your face as a shadow falls over his jaws. 

His hand. 

And in his fingers…

No…

In his fingers, he’s lazily clutching the end of your rope. He holds it there with a soft chuckle, one that makes the throat around you ripple, before you watch his mouth start to relax as it closes for what you realize in terror is the final time.

“Wait- wait wait wait-!"

When he swallows, the walls of his throat clutch tight around you, rippling with a soft ulp that folds around you and tries to squeeze you down along with it. Your whole body jerks in place, being squashed tighter into the living tunnel before the rope pulls taut and forces you back up- which causes the muscles around you to quiver and the predator they belong to to hum. 

It’s absolutely deafening this close to his voicebox. 

You gasp as the slimy walls finally ease up, trembling at the sensation of something pressing at you from outside of your new prison. At first, you almost think you’re imagining it, but when the throat around you twitches in response to a firmer press, you realize those are fingers pressing against you from the outside. 

You can’t help but imagine yourself as a lump in Christopher’s throat. 

As you struggle harder, forcing your elbows out against the taunting squishes, in you mind’s eye, you see the small flutter of your movements settled just above his collarbone- the way you stretch the freckled skin and wriggle just beneath it- and as you tug on the rope in a desperate attempt to shimmy back up the way you came-

GLURK.

-the throat constricts tighter, and this time you can’t keep yourself from giving a yelp as you’re sucked further into Christopher’s esophagus- settled just beside his thudding heart. The walls of his gullet have grown tighter, as has the knot of the rope around your waist thanks to said walls hungrily rippling around you in an attempt to squeeze you deeper inside. Again, you struggle to haul yourself further up the rope that’s keeping you suspended in his chest. Your saliva slicked hands fumble to get a grip, and you curse yourself for not having tied too many knots in it before trying to use it out borrowing. In the pitch darkness of his throat, you can’t see much aside a very faint red- the light from outside only penetrating deep enough for you to see the faint outlines of the esophagus squeezing around you. 

Your rope is still being held snugly by the gullet’s walls, the red lifeline almost vanishing into the pulsing darkness, but you squint through the saliva running down your face just long enough to realize how far down you’ve been squeezed. Seeming miles of throat stretch above you, and a flicker of light from the top of the tunnel causes your heart to sink. On either side of you, you hear a rush of air filling your devourer’s lungs, and everything tightens as they fill with oxygen, preparing for another-

Gulp.

-for him, it must be nothing. Just soft and lazy bobs of his adam’s apple that allow your rope to fall deeper into the folds of his throat. You can almost imagine how faint the sound of him swallowing must be outside of the sweltering confines you’re in now- but you can’t quite cling to the illusion long enough to mute the disgusting squelch and ULLLLK that draw you deep enough to feel a distinct change in heat.

Heat from below you.

Heat coupled by the sound of an organic growl, and your heart grows cold despite the warmth of the predator surrounding you as you realize how close to the belly of the beast you’ve gotten.

You scramble against the soft walls, tugging on your slack rope more and more as the sound of gurgling grows louder beneath you. You can’t end up in his stomach. You won’t. You’re a borrower, you’re not-

Glmpk.

He swallows once more. 

Firmly. 

Firmly enough that you manage to look above you in terror, watching the tunnel of his throat constrict in a wave that rushes toward you in the dark, too fast for you to do anything but take a breath in before you’re squished firmly into the upper stomach sphincter. 

Then through it.

Your tiny form lands in his stomach with a wet plop.

The walls around you shudder with a gurgle of greeting, and above you, you hear a long and contented sigh breeze up from the throat you fought for your life not to get squeezed down- unable to keep yourself from envying the air for being able to get past his lips.

You’re not as lucky as the air. The stomach containing you groans in emphasis, the organ steadily starting to rock this way and that, the walls rippling inwards eagerly in what you realize are the beginnings of digestion. Your hands find the rope and you pull on it sharply, earning the sound of a muffled glp from above and the sensation of more and more of it pulling into his belly, coiling around you on the fleshy floor, gulp after gulp ushering it down, down…

The piece of yarn bobs momentarily at the back of Christopher’s throat, and it brushes the folds of flesh there as its pulled down his gullet. It isn’t fully soaked through with his saliva, not yet, and as he sits with his jaws open, he gulps, feeling it stick dryly in his throat- though he persists in his task anyway. 

With a few more short swallows, there’s no trace left of you at all. No rope dangles from between his lips. No shape wriggles in his throat, and as he trails a hand down to his comfortably full stomach… he grins at the realization that you fit so perfectly inside that you’ve completely vanished from the outside world. Not even a lump against his middle surfaces to show anyone where you’ve vanished to, and he purrs in delight, trailing his fingers over his middle and hiccuping suddenly when you squirm. 

“Oh, don’t worry.”

His voice rumbles around you, echoing over the sounds of digestion. One of the fleshy walls folds inward with a prod against you and you feel the tip of one of his claws massaging you into the lining. 

“I think I’m going to let my guts take their time with you… best get comfy in there.” 

[puppyeared]

vincent voice claim!! hes auggie and anton's son ^_^

VA: Catbug from Bravest Warriors, voiced by Sam Lavagnino

[melzzzzz]

at least one of weskers screens is just for watching chris

[aroaceleovaldez]

they girlbossed Sally Jackson

[doink-boink]

The mental illness took over and I created the Wild Kratts crew (and two of the villains) in PonyTown!!

[chrisrin]

was super inspired by onian's take on gemcyt!cleo (specifically the choice of a rainforest jasper)--so i tried my own hand at a design with it!

[seriousturd]

Little doodle of old school Chris and Ro

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

horny thoughts of the day

thinking about dd/lg free use w/Leon (or Chris tbh). Imagine him telling you that “daddy’s had a hard day and needs to use his baby girl for some stress relief” and then he takes you to the bedroom and gently lays you down on the bed (cause you’re still his baby and he’s gotta be sweet to you). Then, he puts a pacifier in your mouth and/or gives you a plushie to squeeze before he fucks you. He’s much rougher than usual, not so focused on making you cum (the way that he tends to be otherwise), he might not even eat you out first, he might just force his cock into you (you’d be wet enough anyway though). He keeps your clothes on because he doesn’t want to wait, he’s too impatient from the rough day he’s had. If you’re wearing a bra, he’ll take your tits out so he can grope them, and he’ll take your pants off (if you’re wearing any) so that he can get to what he really wants - your pussy (or your princess parts if he's being cute with you). If you’re wearing a skirt, that would be easier for him (or maybe you’ve gone without pants and are just wearing panties cause you’re at home). He probably wouldn’t bother to take off the panties you’re wearing - he’d like it if they had a cute, girly print on them. He’d just slide them to the side and fuck you with them on. Even though you want daddy to cum inside you, he’d want to ruin your panties. You’d pout about how he “came on Hello Kitty’s face” (or whatever other cute character is on your underwear), and he’d say that he just “wanted to give her a little bit of love too”.

[theslowestpoke]

Today's useless teen wolf AU is everything is essentially the same except they live in Louisiana instead of California.

Stiles' dad is the sheriff of their parish, somewhere inoffensively middle-north like Rapides so they're surrounded by the national forest and still close to the Red River. It's a perfect place to hide a giant magic tree, for the record, and the bayou is no place for two teenagers to go stumbling around looking for a dead body. Best case you find it before the gators find you; worst case, your best friend gets his ass chomped by a rougarou.

Everyone knows the legends - the stories older siblings tell you with a lot less warning than your grandmother ever did - but they're just stories, right?

Except now that Stiles is really paying attention, there's way weirder stuff in the medicine cabinets at the vet clinic than you'd really need for dogs and cats and the bright blue paint on the outside of the building might be more than just an aesthetic choice for the doctor who always seems to know more than he's willing to tell.

When a family comes to town with their pretty daughter and French last name, Scott's already head-over-heels before Stiles can point out that there's bigger fish to fry. Lydia Martin is hosting the annual crawfish boil at her family's manor ("for charity," like they don't have their hands dirty from running a chain of river-boat casinos on the Red) and Scott needs to get his new claws in check if he's wants to steer clear of Argent. The hunter's been asking around in quick, clipped creole about all the recent rumors of black panther sightings, but Stiles knows that's not what he's really asking.

When the kanima starts wreaking on the town, Deaton sends Stiles to the graveyard to fetch a bag of dirt from his own mother's grave. He promises it will protect them and keep the kanima from escaping the rave, but only after Stiles accuses him of trying to use Claudia's memory in a curse. It works, but nothing else does, and Stiles has to break the line of goofer dust to let Isaac and Erica escape. He's definitely remembering that for the future.

[teddybearty]

Drew more SimpGuy bc I’m obsessed 📺💕

[fallenspirit]

this is easily the funniest scene in the it crowd

[m1ckeyb3rry]

reo isagi and yukimiya should’ve been on manshine city together and nagi hiori and chigiri should’ve been on bastard münchen together send tweet