#so it feels good to be really doing that! queuing this a week and a half before it's gonna be posted!

[silverfoxstole]

OK. Right. I've sorted my panel photos, which I'll start posting tomorrow (I won't bombard you with them all at once!), so I can get my thoughts straight about yesterday. This is going to be long; sorry! I'll divide it into two parts so that those who want to skip my wittering and just see the pics can.

I hadn't actually thought I'd ever go to a con again; my last one had been back in 2009 and they've got a hell of a lot bigger since then, which sort of puts me off as I don’t really like crowds, and living as I do right down on the south coast they're usually too far away. However, when back at the end of January an ad popped up out of the blue on my Facebook feed informing me that Paul would be appearing at Portsmouth Comic Con (less than ten miles from me) my heart skipped a beat and I started wondering whether I'd be able to go. Of course, there was nothing stopping me but I wasn't keen to go on my own, and I knew my DW-and-anything-else-related-to-scifi-fantasy-etc-hating sister would never agree.

When not long later I saw Sylvester was going to be there as well I mentioned it to my friend P (with whom I’ve attended cons in the past), lamenting that I had no one to go with and not really expecting her to suggest that she try to come down from Manchester so we could go together but to my surprise she did and so the tickets were duly booked. Fast forward to about three weeks ago, unfortunately, and things started to go - literally in this case - off the rails thanks to a driver's strike and then engineering work that meant no trains into Portsmouth for the 11th and 12th and P very reluctantly having to drop out because she wouldn't be able to get down here and back in time for work on Monday. Still wanting to go but not really wanting to do it alone I had no choice but to ask sis to come with me, which she very gamely did and I owe her. Big Time. It’s really not her thing and I know she didn't enjoy it at all. She works in town and made me stand on the outside in the queue in case she saw anyone she knew!

I had been worried about how I was going to react as I do suffer from anxiety and I've not been amongst crowds since before Covid, but much to my surprise I was completely relaxed, even when talking to the guests; I'm obviously long past my 'OMG it's Paul!' phase (thank goodness!) and instead it was a case of 'Oh, yeah, there he is, and Sylv and Sophie (a later addition, and one I'd been hoping for) too.' I don't know whether it's because they're so familiar or I just got used to actors popping in when I worked in a shop near a theatre, but it was easy and I'm so glad! The reflexology session I had in Thursday might have helped keep me calm, too; if you’re feeling tense I recommend it!

I had only previously visited the Guildhall for concerts (sis knows it better as she's had to do presentations to the city council in the past) so it was rather odd to be in there during the day. I have to say that I think they could have put aside more room for the guests as it was difficult to work out who was queuing to see who (ho ho). It was very warm and the setup also made taking photos a bit awkward with people having to dance round each other a bit. We went to see Paul first (of course), and when he clocked me in my NotD cosplay he leaned back, smiled and announced 'It's like lookin' in a mirror!' I honestly can't remember exactly what I said in response to that! Probably nothing that coherent! He asked if I'd made it myself, which gave me a neat opportunity to present the gift I'd made for him: an Eighth Doctor bear and Mr Bush bear.

I think i've wanted to make bears for Paul ever since I put together the first one nearly three years ago, but I never thought I'd get a chance so when I knew I'd be going to the con I started planning. I was originally just going to do the Doctor, and make a Seven bear for Sylvester, but as they were coming to Portsmouth I decided to do Bush as well since I can’t imagine Paul gets a lot of Hornblower-related gifts. Of course, when it was confirmed that Sophie would be there I had to make an Ace bear too and here they all are before I packed them up yesterday morning, sitting on the bags i'd also run up to put them in (not pictured, my terrible embroidery name tags to help me tell who was who):

I'll do some more detailed posts so you can see them properly another day, but I was so pleased with they way they turned out that it was really hard to give them up! At least I knew they'd be going to good homes!

When I gave Paul the bag he just looked at me in surprise and went 'Is that for me? Can I open it now?' and there was a smile on his face as soon as he saw what was inside. 'That's my career! Doctor Who and Hornblower!' He absolutely loved them, couldn't believe I'd made them and told me 'I have a room where I keep all the gifts I've been given, and these are going to take pride of place.' I couldn't wish for more than that! Well, maybe a photo of him with them but it was busy and I didn't like to ask and possibly hold things up. I hope he's found the alternative Dark Eyes outfit that I added for Eight bear as I had some fabric leftover from my jacket; the sonic for that one took a bit of ingenuity!

He asked about my costume again while we were getting into position (for want of a better term) for a photo and commented that so many people are paying someone to make their cosplays now and spending a hundreds of pounds, something I'd guess he finds quite astonishing given the incredulous look on his face when he said it. I could be wrong, but I got the impression that he likes to see what different fans have come up with; there are a lot of people who seem to be patronising Steven Ricks since Paul got his remade costume last year, which I can understand because the man is a brilliant tailor, but sometimes it must be a bit like seeing clones.

Jen took the photo and we were about to leave it there but then this strangely confident person I found inside me asked Paul a question:

‘Can I be cheeky?’

‘Sure.’

‘Can I give you a hug?’

‘Of course!’

Well, if you don’t ask, you don’t get! (says the woman who hates asking for things in shops) He gives very good hugs. 🥰

I did manage to let him go (it wasn’t easy!) and he thanked me again for the bears before we moved on to see Sophie, which involved going round to join another queue in the same small space. Confusing? Yep!

I don't know who here has met Sophie Aldred but you should because she is so, so lovely. Ace has always been one of my favourite companions and I was so pleased when I saw she would be coming. I'd already started an Ace bear with the intention of giving it to Sylvester with his, but of course that got changed and Sophie was smitten. She looked really closely at it, remarking on the little details - 'Oh, it's even got the plait. And a rucksack and baseball bat!' - and sat it proudly on the corner of her table, where I assume it stayed for some of the day. Apparently it's the best Ace bear she's ever seen - you can't get a better accolade than that! (My head was swelling somewhat by this point, by the way. I don't like to blow my own trumpet but I don't often get so many compliments, and never in such a short space of time, so i hope you can forgive me for including them.)

Last but not least, of course, there was Sylvester, which meant another queue in the same space, which was just daft as because their tables were next to each other you didn't know whether people were waiting for him or for Paul. I'm sure that could have been organised much better than it was. In the same section there were also two chaps who had somethng to do with Star Wars who weren't getting much attention at all which was a bit awkward. They haven't gone back today and I can't blame really them.

I've wanted to meet Sylv for years and he didn’t disappoint. He liked the fabric the bag was made from because its starry night pattern was similar to his waistcoat, which admittedly was why i bought it in the first place. When he got it open and saw what was inside he said 'Oh! I'm a little bear! That’s lovely!’ and when I said I'd made one for Sophie too leaned round trying to see it on Sophie's table. I half wish I'd made a set of both for each of them now but that might have been overkill, and I would have needed a rucksack of my own to transport them all; my bag was full to bursting as it was. Maybe if I see them again I’ll give Sophie a Doctor bear and Sylvester an Ace. As it stands I am so, so pleased that all three of them liked something I'd made so much, and Sylvester and Sophie were both also taken with the cartoons of the Seventh Doctor and Ace that I asked them to sign.

Phew! If you've reached the end of this, well done! I know I have tendency to ramble on and I commend your stamina! I'll put the photos in a separate post but I was one happy camper, especially as just afterwards i got another compliment on my costume and was asked to pose in the TARDIS! We didn't stay the whole day as it was hot, I'd pretty much seen what I wanted to (the Doctor Who 'exhibition' was just a few monster replicas, most of which weren't that good, unlike the really impressive experience they had last year for the 60th and which I would have loved to see. And there were no daleks! My ambition to hug a dalek sadly remains unfulfilled *sniff*) sis had developed a headache, but I'm very glad I went. 😀

#long post #my rambles #paul mcgann #sophie aldred #sylvester mccoy #portsmouth comic con #my bears #doctor who bears #doctor who

[sydney-carton-of-sour-milk]

The Many Illustrators of A Tale of Two Cities 2: Rowland Wheelwright

That's right, we're jumping centuries and mediums!

...specifically, from Phiz's engravings for the original 1859 monthly installments to Wheelwright's paintings for this 1925 edition! (warning: in the following, there is some violent imagery, and one image in the third grouping has blood)

As I'd mentioned in the announcement post, these illustrators will be highlighted completely out of chronological order to make it more organic when I continue to find more and more artists' work to add to the queue - so I wanted to start off with a particularly dramatic leap in time (and style!) to give a sense of the sheer variety of art we're going to be looking at here!

This also happens to be one of the sets that I scanned myself - most of these beautiful illustrations haven't anywhere on the internet (by my own intensive research at least!) until now. It's my joy to finally get to share them!

Overall, I want to give my own opinions and takes on the work of each illustrator as little as possible so that everyone can experience it in their own way, but the true beauty in his attention to detail in color, characterization, costuming, composition, and shadow calls for some comment.

This is the work of someone who loved and appreciated both the story itself and the act of illustrating it - I'm grateful to him for bringing these images into existence.

& the standard endnote for all posts in this series:

This post is intended to act as the start of a forum on the given illustrator, so if anyone has anything to add - requests to see certain drawings in higher definition (since Tumblr compresses images), corrections to factual errors, sources for better-quality versions of the illustrations, further reading, fun facts, any questions, or just general commentary - simply do so on this post, be it in a comment/tags or the replies!💫

#A Tale of Two Cities #AToTC #dickens #charlels dickens #classic literature #victorian literature #illustration #illustrators #Rowland Wheelwright #1920s #my scans #alright this is my first one queued! #having a lot of issues maintaining my focus while doing alt text so i'm kind of changing my approach to the broader project by like #winging it basically #gonna queue stuff out of order and do stuff like that #so it feels good to be really doing that! queuing this a week and a half before it's gonna be posted! #and i'm just so excited to be posting these in particular they are just so lovely #darnay's head held high as he holds his spouse and child tight...the stress on carton's face and the hand on darnay's shoulder... #the entire pross and defarge drawing! ugh! this man understood Story #even the simple detail of charles holding his hat to his head in the driving rain....it's almost always about the details man it really is

[akkivee]

nobody asked but these are probably my favourite live looks hayama-san gave us lol

#vee queued to fill the void #FOLLOWED VERY VERY V E R Y CLOSELY BY HIS 7TH LIVE DAY ONE LOOK (MAX CUTE AND I WISH HIS SUKAJAN SHIRT WAS ON SALE TO THIS DAY) #AND HIS 8TH LIVE DAY 2 LOOK (BIASED BUT ALSO HE LOOKS GOOD IN GOLD AND HE WAS IN A SKIRT THAT HAD THIS RLY CUTE BELT BUCKLE ON HIS HIP) #are they in order?????? idk lol but maybe #my hayama brainrot has been on 💯 lately as we get closer to the next hangout stream and his return to it lol #it’s!!!!!!!!!!!!! been too long since i’ve seen his face in content i haven’t been looping for ages lmao #(what????? i got three new videos with him in it in the past two weeks and a very entertaining radio ft sakakihara-san???? idkwym lol 😌😌😌) #abema removed their bonus 6th live content effectively making it lost media i think and i’ve really depressed about it #it was so charming to listen to hayama-san’s voice just perpetually stuck on his kuukou baritone #since that was the first time he’d performed as kuukou for as long as he did and as intensely too (bat’s first kaigen 🥹🥹🥹) #like even takeuchi-san’s voice was going out towards the end of their interviews that’s how hard they went on that live #and sakakihara-san’s post live excitement for kaigen the way he happy clapped getting to talk about kaigen ABEMA I RLY DO HATE THIS #so i’m trying to make myself feel better by tag rambling about them lol #anyway that haircut for the 6th live was so inspired i miss his long hair era everyday and 💜💜💜 to the first time he wowed the entire world #(if you feel there’s some type of energy going into the 5th live shot i posted instead a more uniform shot with the others eh heh⭐️)

[ofcowardiceandkings]

also hi how is everyone doing :'>

#im really busy fjjgslnjfdojgkdfb my peach is still broken as well but im still vaguely on twitch every week or so #not doing much art right now because busy fkshdks im working an infrastructure project in full PPE from 7:30 to 15:30 #and in the heat im dead after that :')))) #also TotK is being played im not spoiler clear yet but prepare for me to poop my pants afterwards #my drafts are full of stuff i never queued oops #i hope everyone's doing well though ily i hope good things are happening for you all #feel free to kick me a discord message at friththetraveller and say hi #rory's ramblings

[prncples]

#i think there's been something my therapist has been helping me chip away at #that was at the root of a recent bad anxiety episode/trigger that's been bothering me for weeks #if not months #over the last few weeks they've really cracked this nut wide open and the exercises are a little cheesy #but that's okay too... sometimes deconstructing the selectively reinforced self-flagellation #looks a little cheesy #but that's part of the recovery... kill the cringe cop in your (my) head... #but it does also mean having retread some old ground plus unearthing some text posts from before therapy #forgive the long rambling tags i just feel awed once again at how much changes in 3 years #i feel silly looking back at things that were obvious #at times i didn't advocate for myself in the name of people pleasing and believing less in myself #than in the necessity of harmony by anyone else's terms #the feeling silly isn't the same as feeling regret #but i think i don't fully want to forget what the echoes of those feelings were like #bc they were part of a deeper bonding process with so many people #that i love to have these bonds with #including nova who tried to eat my foot an hour before i queued this #isn't his birthday bowtie so cute 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 #also i know it isn't a necessity towards doing good work in therapy #but having a queer nb e asian mandarin speaking therapist has just #been really cool and helped me relax in so many ways and they ask great questions #never felt so consistently that way with any other mental health professionals #so apologies for all the therapy related rambles that have gone in the tags lately #fore-apologizing for a little more to come

[quitedisastrous]

supposed to be drawing grocery cart but my stupid mind can't compel itself to do so. sigh. perhaps later

#queued rambles #i feel bad because i have owed art i took on a few weeks ago that i need to do #but like. i also Know i won't be able to draw well on anything that isn't my iPad since it's all i've been using the last few weeks #so i need to actually figure out how to draw decently on it first. so i don't think it's a good idea to start on that stuff justttttttt yet #sitting here crumbling into dust because it's been a month or so as though up until the last week and a half i wasn't busy with #college finals and final projects #eugh. #back to grocery cart. i love grocery cart even though she kind of really needs a different name for lore reasons

[teacheesee]

hiii can i request a reader x luffy fic on how luffy would act if the reader like fell asleep on his shoulder or something? thank uu😸😸

oh anon i went above and beyond for you… tysm for this cuteeeee request mwahhh •.*

monster trio x gn reader - falling asleep on their shoulders!

warnings: fluff, zoros is a little teensie weensie bit suggestive leave me alone, no pronouns used!

luffy

On the plush couch of your apartment, Luffy’s leg shook in excitement as he queued up a movie for you two to watch while you ate the take-out you ordered. He was ready to eat, and ready to watch one of his favorite movies with you. You got up, heading towards the kitchen.

“What do you want to drink, Luffy?”

“Anything is fine, water, quick quick you gotta watch this part, it’s important!” He brought the takeout box to his chin, using his chopsticks to pile an ungodly amount of noodles into his mouth. You smiled at him from behind the counter, taking in the sweet ambiance.

You two had just started dating a few weeks ago, and moments like this were so fun to share, so simple. You walked back and sat next to him, your legs brushing him with the proximity. You could feel him tense at the feeling, still not used to how he got to be near you whenever he wanted, but he relaxed quickly, his leg moving to bump yours in a playful acknowledgement. You smiled as you ate, quickly becoming transfixed at the tv screen.

Half of the movie later, your stomach full and eyes drooping, your head began to drop. You quickly would jerk it back up, but it was becoming impossible to stay awake, and the cycle kept continuing. After a cool moment in the movie, Luffy turned to you to see your reaction.

“Wasn’t that co--” he started, interrupted with how cute you looked, illuminated by the blue glow of the tv, eyes closed and head tilting down, fighting to stay awake. He took a deep breath and turned back to the tv fighting a smile, you were so beautiful and he couldn’t believe you were his. Even when he thought that this night couldn’t get any better, you proved him wrong as your head lolled onto his shoulder. Your destination finally made, you fell into a proper sleep, your steady breaths ghosting his shoulder. Reaching to pause the movie, Luffy returned to you and brought his head to rest atop yours.

He looked at you, his arm wrapping under yours to hold your hand gently, basking in the knowledge that he was the only one you trusted to hold you like this.

“We can finish it tomorrow.”

zoro

“Man, I’m beat,” you huffed, dropping your bag on the floor. Kicking off your shoes at the entry way, you stumbled into your apartment. Zoro was sitting in the living room, watching tv after his afternoon workout, by the looks of his clothes.

“Long day?” he asked, pausing the show to hear your response.

You sighed, “Guess. I’m gonna shower, you coming or what?”

“Guess.”

You sat in your bed, leaning against the headboard, book in hand. Zoro was next to you, sitting beside you but his eyes closed, nodding in and out of sleep. The book you had found was so good, but the long day you had was really catching up with you, and fast. To your credit, you had gotten a few chapters read before the book slipped from your hands and fell onto your lap. With the movement, Zoro cracked an eye open. Your head was tilted back, face relaxed as sleep began to take over you. Zoro grinned, sneaking his arm behind your shoulders, his hand pulling your head towards his. He pressed a kiss to your head while he massaged your scalp gently, urging you deeper into your well-earned sleep.

sanji

The car ride home in the taxi was pretty quiet, save for the occasional stray question asked by the driver, and the soft music that played from the front of the car. After the day-long string of activities Sanji had planned, ending at one of your favorite bars, you were ready to go home and catch some sleep before undoubtedly seeing him again tomorrow. It was only your second date tonight, but it was going so well that it felt like you’ve known him forever. You and Sanji sat side by side in the taxi, his hand resting on his thigh, pinky outstretched and linked with yours. The rock of the car was gentle as the tick of the highway played a steady rhythm, warm yellow street lights casting quick shadows across your bodies.

His hand snaked around your arm, now fully holding your hand. “So did you have fun tonight, my love?” You looked at him, him returning your gaze. You smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek, then opting to settle your head on the crook of his shoulder. He tilted down to help you settle there, feeling your cheeks rise as a smile rested on your lips.

“So is that a yes?”

You hummed in response, eyes closing as you began to nod off. Sanji smiled, his head tilting back against the headrest. A few minutes later, the driver pulled onto your street.

“Excuse me?” Sanji asked. The driver looked back. “How much for you to keep driving a little longer?”

a/n: thank you sm for this awesome silly tres cute little baby fic it was so fun to write (i need sanji in a way that sets feminism back). please send me more requests but!!! if yours includes a character i haven’t met in the show (i’m at thriller bark) it might take a little while longer bc idk how to write them yet. patience is a virtue, kitties. okay meow (cat saying ciao) •.*

#one piece #one piece zoro #op zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x luffy #zoro x sanji #sanji smut #vinsmoke sanji #sanji fluff #sanji x reader #luffy x reader #gear 5 luffy #gear 5th #one piece luffy #one piece sanji #modern au #one piece modern au #zoro headcanons #roronoa zoro #zoro fanart #zoro fluff #one piece fluff

[fluentmoviequoter]

Merry and Bright

Day 9 of 12 Days of Ficmas

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader (The Rookie)

Summary: You invite Tim over on Christmas Eve, but he says he's working. A Christmas miracle occurs and Tim knocks on your door, presents in tow.

Word Count: 1.4k+ words

Warnings: so much fluff. How the Grinch Stole Christmas references. Tim is probably OOC. I made up some stuff about Tim and his sister.

A/N: I haven't written for Tim Bradford yet, so please feel free to leave feedback and let me know what you think! I'd like to keep writing for him and try to capture his amazing character better so please feel free to send requests if you have any!

Masterlist Directory | Request Info (& full fandom list)

Since you inserted yourself into Tim’s life, barging your way in with a basket of goodies after moving in next door, he has quickly become one of your best friends. If he’s undeniably handsome and one of the most caring men you’ve ever met despite his grumpy exterior, so what? You asked yourself that the first time you invited him over for dinner, but now it’s a weekly occurrence, and it is your week to cook.

Your favorite one-pan dish is in the oven, and the game is queued on your television, but all that’s missing is Tim Bradford. As you decorated for Christmas this year, you thought about him and how his sister isn’t coming to LA for the holidays, leaving him alone. You’ve since decided to do something about that.

“Anyone home?” Tim asks as he opens your door. “Because I know I’ve told you more times than I can count to lock your door.”

You look around the corner and smile at him as you argue, “My neighbor’s a cop, it’ll be fine.”

“Sergeant, not a cop.”

“My apologies, Sergeant Bradford.”

He smiles at you, less rare than it used to be, but a moment you take the time to appreciate, never knowing when he will grace you with another one.

“So, I know your sister isn’t visiting,” you begin, “and I was wondering if you’d be interested in spending Christmas here?”

Tim glances at your Christmas tree before answering. “I would love to, and I can’t thank you enough for thinking of me and offering, but I’m working Christmas Eve.”

“Okay,” you say, nodding as you smile. “I just wanted to extend the invitation.”

You turn around to remove dinner from the oven, and Tim places a hand on your arm, stopping you.

“Thank you,” he repeats quietly and bordering on reverent. “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course. You’re always welcome here.”

“I’m sorry. I would come if I could.”

“Tim, it’s fine. I’ll just have to give you your giant stack of gifts later,” you tease.

Tim nods, removing his hand from your arm and watching you turn away, his heart trying to decide whether it wants to shrink or grow.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Bradford, are you good?” Wade asks as he leaves the station.

“Fantastic,” he mumbles. Wade looks at him, unconvinced, and he sighs before saying, “I just wish I could be somewhere else. I’m glad I could help out the officers with families, with kids, and give them the night off, but…”

“You’re regretting it?” Wade finishes.

“Not exactly.”

“Well, if you want to come over when you get off, we’ll leave the lights on,” Wade offers.

“Thanks,” Tim says. He doesn’t add: I’ve got somewhere else I’d rather be.

Someone walks up behind Tim and places a Santa hat on his head.

“Cheer up, Grinchy,” Angela calls, walking out of the station. “Merry Christmas, Tim!”

“Yeah,” Tim says, more to himself than her.

“Dude, we need to find you a K9 named Max, finish off the Grinch look,” Aaron teases, sitting next to Tim as his shift begins. He’s working tonight for the same reason Tim is: to let the officers with families spend Christmas with their loved ones.

“Oh, should we get him a little heart pin, too, and try to make it grow?” Nolan chimes in.

“Sorry, Bradford, but you’re just so… Grinchy,” Aaron says.

Tim laughs, shaking his head as the Santa hat shifts with his movement. Nolan and Aaron look at each other in horror and amusement at the fact that Tim Bradford, who is wearing a Santa hat, just laughed. Tim, however, is only thinking of you and how you’d absolutely agree with them. Although, if you were here, or if he was with you, he wouldn’t be quite so Grinchy.

“Merry Christmas, LAPD!” Officer Jan announces, entering the station in a full Santa costume. “I have come to relieve one lucky soul of Christmas Eve duty.”

“Bradford!” Aaron and Nolan yell. “He has somewhere to be.”

“How do you-?” Tim asks.

“It’s all over your face,” Aaron says as Nolan answers, “Go get her… whoever she is.”

Tim looks at Jan, who nods encouragingly. Tim jumps to his feet and runs to his locker. He’s heading home for Christmas, but he has one stop. As he changes before climbing in his truck, he makes a mental list of everything he needs. Merry Christmas to all, Tim thinks.

✯✯✯✯✯

You smile at the ending of the Christmas movie on your television, your thoughts drifting to Tim as you wonder what it would be like to have him here. As you try to focus on the movie again, someone knocks on your door.

When you open it, you don’t expect to see Tim in a Santa hat and holding several gift bags. Your eyes widen, and your smile returns as you let him in, closing the door behind him. He opens his mouth to say something, but you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him tightly before he gets the chance. His arms wrap around you, loosely at first, before tightening when a Christmas song begins playing through your speakers as the credits roll. 

“I brought gifts,” he says against your shoulder.

“You didn’t have to. I just wanted to see you,” you reply.

He squeezes you once more, and you slowly step back, pulling out of the hug and looking up into Tim’s eyes.

“You brought hot chocolate?” you ask, stealing a peek into one of the bags.

“It’s Christmas,” he answers, as if it’s obvious.

“Didn’t take you for the sentimental type.”

“I’m not always.”

You smile and gesture for him to follow you, leading him into the kitchen and pulling two Christmas-themed mugs from your cupboard.

“Thank you for coming,” you tell him.

“Thanks for inviting me.”

✯✯✯✯✯

After making the hot chocolate, you return to the couch and turn on A Charlie Brown Christmas as you resist leaning into Tim’s side.

“This is one of my favorites,” he says quietly, “my sister and I watched it every time it was on cable growing up.”

“It’s a classic,” you agree.

“We would watch it, drink hot cocoa or cider, whatever was in the kitchen, and exchange one gift on Christmas Eve,” Tim adds.

“Do you want to open a gift?” you ask, facing him. “There’s only a few hours until Christmas anyway.”

Tim thinks for a moment and then smiles at you. “Just one.”

You stand, retrieving a small box from under the tree while he pulls a gift from one of the bags. When you sit back down, you sit a little closer than before. He opens his present first, smiling and leaning in to hug you as he thanks you. When you open yours, you see a gift you’ve wanted for years but no one ever remembered. You start to thank him, but something happens along the way, and instead, your lips land on his. His hand raises to your arm as he reciprocates, but you realise your mistake (was it really a mistake? you ask yourself) and pull back.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

His hand slides up your arm to rest at the back of your neck. You see a new smile as he pulls you back in. Pressing your hand against his chest, you stop yourself.

“Are you sure?” you whisper.

“Have you ever seen me so merry and bright?” he asks, his smile the widest you’ve ever seen.

You pick up the pompom at the end of his Santa hat and chuckle. “You are pretty cuddly,” you reply, noticing his other arm has wrapped around your waist. 

He rolls his eyes, still smiling as he kisses you again. You shift backward, your hand landing on the remote and resuming the movie. Tim laughs as he pulls back, pulling you against him.

“How’d you get off work?” you ask.

“Jan came in and offered to cover for one of us, and I was volunteered because I was being too ‘Grinchy.’”

You gasp in faux surprise. “Tim Bradford? You? Grinchy? I can’t imagine it.”

He smiles, and you lean in to kiss him again, your new favorite pastime.

“Thank you for coming. This is the best Christmas ever,” you say against his lips.

“Until next year?” Tim asks.

“What happens next year?”

“We’ll see.”

“And for now we’re merry and bright?” you respond.

“The merriest and the brightest,” Tim jokes, pulling you against his side as Charlie Brown appears on screen.

Merry and Bright, indeed.

#fluentmoviequoter12daysoffics #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x you #tim bradford #tim bradford the rookie #the rookie

[morallyinept]

Sleazy Santa - A Dieter Bravo One Shot

Summary: Have you been naughty or nice? Sleazy Santa Dieter will find out... Come sit on his knee, baby, and tell Santa what you really want for Christmas. If you've been good, he might just give it to you. T'is the season to be sleazy...

Pairing: Sleazy!Dieter Bravo x MenaceF!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.) Reader is referred to as 'Cookie' on occasion. You'll see why when you read... and has hair long enough to pull.

Word Count: 5.3k of Christmas sleaze

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Explicit - Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/fingering/oral M & F receiving/drug use/anal play/lots of smutty dirty talk/verbal degradation - Dieter calls you a whore & slut and you love it/(im)proper use of a candy cane/Dieter being absolutely lewd and trashy whilst being a mall Santa. Reader is up for this and wants it all. Dieter is not an actor in this story. Just a dirtbag.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

Author’s Note: (I intended to get this out on the 1st Dec, but this week has completely run away from me, so better late than never! 🫠) I just know Dieter would be the trashiest Santa. So here he is. Ho(e). Ho(e). Ho(e). 🎅🫦

☝🏻This is not a direct follow on from Back Alley Bang, but is the same Sleazy!Dieter.

Read Back Alley Bang!

I wrote this a little while back in prep for my Christmas stories to release throughout December. Since then, the lovely @cerridwen007 dropped a Frankie fic called Candy Cane, which you should totally read because it's bloody amazing! And hot! 🔥 Seeing as both our stories mention some lewdness with Candy Canes, I want to shout about hers, because it's epic. And so is she. 🥰🖤

If this story isn't for you, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

🎄MASTERLIST🎄

Enjoy! 🖤

“Come sit on Santa’s knee, baby.” He smirks at you under the grizzle of greying, scruffy facial hair, sprawled across his jawline like a patch of overgrown weeds in a neglected alley.

Each bristle of his moustache seems like a picket in a fence, guarding the secrets of his expressions, a formidable barrier to anyone attempting to decipher the stoic visage he wears, despite the adept grin crook shanking it's way out from underneath it at you now.

You joust a sharp glance at him, sitting back lazily on the throne, manspreading and reaching down to adjust the swell of his cock inside his red velour pants, brazenly.

In a worn-out wife beater, that's seen one too many spin wash cycles, tinged grey with sweat around the hem and underarms, braces dangle loosely over Santa’s broad shoulders, contributing to a somewhat dis-reputational vibe.

Boots, covered in dirt and scuffs, complete the unkempt look, and a lingering rolled cigarette, possibly a joint by the herbal stench emanating from it and how tightly it’s tobacco stuffing is packed into the thin papers, add a touch of nonchalance to the unconventional ensemble.

The once jolly twinkle in his tired and bloodshot eyes he had for the children and parents queuing up all day to meet him excitedly, now carries a mischievous, darkening glint polluting the soft browns into a deep onyx as he regards you.

You can feel the heat, running moist and sticky across your body in all those fleshy crevices, as his eyes traverse all the curves and shapes of you gluttonously and leaving you stained.

It feels as if he devours you with his gaze, eyes chomping through your bones; each hungry look a bite into the forbidden fruit of your supple skin, leaving you with a sense of exposure that’s both invasive and titillating.

You feel it pulse on the end of your clit and bite back a wayward groan as you squeeze your thighs together.

You pull off your elf's hat, ruffling your hair out of your tight pony that’s been threatening to scalp you all day, and smirk at him suggestively. 

He leers back, through full lips chapped pink, under that greasy moustache hidden behind a fake silvery beard all day. A sly grin twists those pert smackers up as he looks you up and down in your cute fuzzy elf ensemble, complete with annoying bells that jingle when you walk.

A crude name tag is pinned to your lapel, flecked with glitter that says Cookie. And you can't help but wonder at how he'll make you crumble.

The Grotto’s decor transports visitors to a whimsical realm where the spirit of Christmas thrives in a rammed-down-your-throat abundance. Faux snow covered branches, adorned with twinkling lights that frame the entrance, complete with fibreglass reindeer with beady eyes, creates an archway that beckons families into the enchanting space within the hustle and bustle of the shopping mall. 

Inside the main cabin, the walls are adorned with festive murals depicting scenes of Santa's workshop; his cheerful elves, and his sleigh chock full of presents for all the good boys and girls.

Glittering ornaments in hues of red, green and gold hang from the ceiling, casting a warm and festive glow as they twirl and sway. Garlands of pine branches intertwine with fairy lights, adorned and wrapped around every available surface, filling the air with the invigorating scent of Christmas pine to the point you want to choke.

Eager youngsters, with their big awe-struck eyes, gravitate around your knees all day and hearing Let It Snow play on repeat is starting to grate on your last nerve by lunch time.

A two bit job in a shopping mall Grotto for the season to help pay the rent on your shitty apartment, isn’t exactly the high point of your mundane life, but being assigned as Santa’s personal elf in the Grotto this year seems to have an unexpected appeal. 

Especially when under the hat and beard Santa is a fucking grimy feast for the eyes, in all of his sordid, dirty appeal. 

“Oh, he’s kinda hot.” You whisper to the other elves, Sugarplum and Cinnamon, when you overhear them talking about him. “In a scummy sorta way.”

You watch as he chortles and pushes crudely taped gifts with lopsided bows into tiny, waiting hands. 

“I saw him out of the suit having a smoke round back. He looks like he spends all day injecting.” Cinnamon the elf remarks, wrinkling her nose. 

Sugarplum snorts distastefully in agreement as she pushes another child through to meet the magic man himself. And you can’t help but grin.  

Who is this guy? 

He stands out like a sore thumb in the mall full of Christmas card perfect families, with two point four bratty children, not the type to be cast in the role of Santa. He looks like he shouldn’t be anywhere near the vicinity of children at all. 

He’s an obvious stain on the holly-jolly, a blot; a malignant smear with his dark appearance and equally dark aura that radiates and flashes in neon green above his head like a Sims character, that he’s a bad, rotten egg. 

And yet, there’s something about him that piques you and your pussy’s interest as you can’t look away. 

You wonder where they hired him, possibly off the street by the way he looks; hair a fluffy mess as he runs a giant paw through it when he takes off the Santa hat for a reprieve. Slick with sweat around the neck and ears after being swamped in the furry suit all day.

But amidst the cheerful chatter and the jingling of bells, you and Santa start to engage in risqué repartee through exchanging heated glances, hidden within the joyful chaos that swarms around you both.

He watches as you bend to greet the children, deliberately pointing your ass, clad in tight, striped hosiery, in his line of sight, and throwing him a steely glance over your shoulder as you smile innocently around your glittery lipstick. 

You suck on candy canes to rile him up as he waits for the next toddler to enter the Grotto, and tease him with how far you can get it down your throat. 

You can see the effect it has on him all day as he has to adjust to himself constantly and refuse that any more kids sit on his lap, opting to just talk to them on their level instead.

Your eyes often fall onto that heavy bulge between his legs as you lick up the red striped cane suggestively. 

You, the teasing little elf, pretend to inspect a list of wishes, shooting Santa a sultry look. "I must say, Santa, you're on everyone's 'Nice' list, but I can't help but wonder what it would take to get you on the 'Naughty' list for a change…"

And he takes that as a direct challenge. 

After the Grotto is closed to the public for the day, you see him head into it and follow, lured like he’s dropping gingerbread crumbs for you to snort up.

Lights are out in the Winter Wonderland area; a few amblers doing their late night Christmas shopping still linger around the mall, but no-one would obviously know you're heading in as your toes jingle with your quick steps in the shadows. 

And it’s where you find him now, sitting back in Santa’s grand throne, legs akimbo and waiting for you as he tokes; running his thick mitts around the chintzy scruff of his real beard.

His eyes crinkle with mirth as you shut the Grotto door behind you. You reach into the basket of candy canes and he watches as you unwrap one, sucking on the stripey end of it as you step up towards him, when he pats his thick thigh again at you. 

Perching on him, dwelling inside the mist of hazy smoke that lingers above your heads and makes you feel lighter as you breathe it down into your lungs, you flutter your eyelashes as you take him in. 

Thick arms, speckled with tattoos of triads that look coloured in with a Sharpie, speak of a past etched with both labour and skirmishes. His hands, large and calloused, possess a certain coarseness, evidence of a wayward journey through life's grittier back alleys with short, chewed on nails. With shoulders that may slump a touch, he carries an weight of shady roughness on them; his belly and thighs telling stories of indulgence, and perhaps a few late night brawls.

Thick fingers are stacked with silver rings that are covered with Santa’s cotton gloves throughout the day. His hawkish nose adds a touch of defiance, completing the image of a man with a scuffed exterior, rough around the edges, yet somewhat intriguing in his lived-in authenticity. An unpolished diamond in some scummy rough. 

But who needs a diamond, when a zirconia is just as good, right? 

In the twinkly lights, the grazed hair on his face appears not as distinguished silver, but rather a mishmash of unkempt greys woven in, like shadows playing on a weathered canvas or someone forgetting to water their garden in patches.

His cocoa bean eyes, though sharp, carry a glimmer of adept slyness, a snake waiting to strike and latch it's fangs to your calf, as if they've witnessed more than their fair share of venomous dealings. 

The pierced ear, with its slightly tarnished hoop you're longing to suck into your mouth, feels less like a statement and more like a relic of some practised rebellion; a declaration of nonconformity, a middle finger raised to polished appearances.

And it's here where your eyes settle, on his fingers as he brings the joint up to his lips to inhale again, and you marvel at their thickness, their startling turgidity, clenching internally.

He inhales on the end of the blunt, smoke billowing around his face in misty, gossamer trails that beckon you further into him, and his eyes, dark and beguiling with blown pupils, are still on yours.

“Have you been a good girl this year?” There’s a coarse texture to his speech, a visceral quality that mirrors the scuffed exterior of a life lived on the fringes.

He’s watching your lips around the candy cane as though hypnotised by the talent of it. You pull it out of your mouth, sticky - the red bleeding into the white - and smile sweetly.

“I’m always a good girl,” you remark with a minty grin. 

Santa shakes his head. “I hear differently. I hear you’re a very naughty girl.” 

You mock pout as he leans forward and sucks the end of the candy cane you’re holding into his own mouth. He smacks his lips around one another after tasting it and hums out. “Filthy,” he adds. 

“Dirty.” You confirm with a singular nod. 

“I like ‘em dirty.” He agrees, looking up at you, chin jutted out in a provocative challenge. 

You stroke under it, scritching your nails in the softly coarse hairs there.

He flicks your name tag and smirks. “Cute.”

“What’s your name?” You ask curiously. 

“Dieter,” he exhales again, and you can taste the smoke settling on your tongue. “But you can call me Santa, baby.”

You nod willingly. 

“Santa wants to touch you, Cookie. You gonna let him?” He queries.

You nod again, smiling. 

“Say it, baby. Say you want Santa to touch you.”

“Touch me, Santa.” You simmer. Your body tenses waiting for his hands - those giant, fucking hands - to get acquainted with you.

He finishes the joint, before squeezing the end to extinguish it, and plops it on the floor. “You gonna let Santa fuck you too?”

“Yeah," you nod again like you can't stop. "I want Santa to fuck me with his big, hard cock.” You reach down and give it a squeeze over the velour Santa pants, and he hisses. “Mmm, so big.” You say, sucking on the cane again, hooking your finger around the curved end of it.

“Fuck, baby. You want it bad don’t you? Slutty little elf…” He states.

Dieter runs his hand up your thigh, your stomach and stops at your breast giving it a good squeeze over your outfit; a grunt of approval rippling low in the back trench of his throat and he massages and gropes.

Clawing his fingers of his other hand over your thigh and grabbing at the pliable skin of your ass cheek, he squeezes a generous handful of it, pulling and smirking at you. 

“Lemme get a look at these tits, fuck.” Dieter says, immediately running his tongue over them as you pull off your elf top. He yanks down your bralette, tearing at the flimsy material making you gasp around the candy cane. 

Mouthing and licking around your nipples, flicking them with his hot, wet tongue, you moan and trail your fingers through his greased up hair. And Santa can’t help himself but to motorboat them, making you giggle as you squirm in his lap. 

“Fuck, look at these,” He says groping them in his giant hands. He brings them together moaning and groaning as he licks and sucks them some more. Running his scruffy jaw over them, greedily like all his Christmases have come at once. He bites down on one and you hiss, feeling it fizz between your legs. 

“How ‘bout a little kiss for Santa, hmm?” He croons at you, craning his face into yours. "Mmm, my lil' sugar cookie..."

You lean in, slipping your cool, sweetly sticky tongue inside his mouth as he kisses you. He strokes over your breasts, squeezing more and groaning as you suck on his tongue. 

He tastes of weed, and something else strong and tart laced around his teeth. But you devour him, feeling that long tongue search around your mouth tasting you, and filling you with his muffled grunts.

“You know, Santa can fill your stocking with whatever you want, right?” Dieter smirks at you as he runs his fingers up down the striped nylons.

You grin, as you pop the candy cane back in your mouth.

With both hands, he tears open your pantyhose from your apex, and smirks at the damp patch there between your legs. You can feel it, all wet and sticky between your thighs. 

You’ve made a mess of yourself all day watching and lusting after him, and now he can see it and knows exactly what he does to you. Knows how you've been craving that filthy dirtbag - who looks like he rolled out of the gutter - they hired to play dress up for the kids.

God, you wanna ride him so fucking hard. 

“You been this wet for me all day?”

You nod. “Drenched.” You tease. 

“Fuck…” he husks approvingly. 

“You make me so wet, Santa.” You say, still innocently sucking on that darned candy cane.

His fingers swipe over the front of your panties, feeling it and pushing the damply soiled material against the folds of your swollen pussy lips. 

He groans as he feels that warm slick seep through onto his fingertips. He brings them up to his nose and sniffs before putting them in his mouth and sucks them, looking at you the whole time as you flare.

Then, he runs them all over your seam again, pressing in and applying pressure to the protruding, swollen bump of your clit. Those grubby, filthy hands pawing greedily all over you, just as you wanted.

“Mmm,” you whine as he strokes and circles over your clit that’s buzzing and pulling tight. A tinge of an ache that makes your thighs tense in the most delicious of ways as he strokes over it, lewdly.

“Santa’s little slut, aren’t you?”

You nod, smirking.

He takes the candy cane from you, and slots it in his own mouth, sucking on it as he inspects between your legs like a letch. You hear it clack against his teeth as it rolls from side to side across his mouth. 

Sucking on it, the stripy tip turned fully white now, he runs it in your folds, and you gasp at the coolness of the mint.

He dips it in, sliding the candy cane into your hole and pulls it out, sucking it back into his mouth, tasting you around the peppermint treat. 

"Mmm, you taste so good." He praises.

He does it again, fucking you slowly with the candy cane and watching as you bite your lip as he slides it in as deep as it’ll go, before holding the sticky treat out for you to taste.

You eye him as you suck it clean of your slick, your tongue lapping down the length of it, and he groans.

“So fucking nasty,” he says with a glint in his eye.

You crunch on the end of it, breaking off a chunk into your mouth as you chew and he discards the rest onto the floor, breaking into pieces that scatter upon impact. 

“Let me get another look at that pussy.” He wrenches your panties aside again, and spits on his fingers, rubbing them over your dripping cunt. 

“That feel good?” He slides up and down your folds, teasing your clit with slimy circles of your slick and tapping it. 

“Yeah. I want those dirty fingers in me.” You whine. 

“All the way in?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s get those panties off. Santa wants you spread open on his lap, baby.”

You lift your ass up as he tugs them down and you watch as he stuffs them into his pocket with a cockamamie smirk. You can only imagine all the sordid things he'll do with them later.

“Oh my God…” You gasp as he slides in two thick fingers, thumb running over your clit. 

“You like being a dirty little slut for Santa, don’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod.

“Look at you, spread wide with my fingers in your cunt.” He looks down at the wet patch on his pants where you cream for him. 

“I love it.” You nod. "I love being your slut, Santa."

“Yeah you do. Kiss me again, baby. Gimme that tongue.”

He sucks on your tongue before he pushes in a third finger, and you moan at how full you feel. He pumps them in and out of you, garnering a tempo that leaves flames licking down your spine as you writhe against them. 

“Such a tight little cunt,” he whispers, pulling on your bottom lip and sucking it. 

“Mmm, yeah… that feels so good.” You mewl.

You can hear your slick squelching around his fingers and leaving them shiny as he pulls them out. You watch as he separates them, leaving strings to break before he sucks them in his mouth. 

“Santa’s got a gift for you in his sack, baby.” He reaches down into a bag, just as dirty and grimy as he is, and pulls out a battery powered wand with a bulbous head. 

You’re stunned as you giggle, and he raises his eyebrows. 

“You carry that around with you all the time?” You say, bewildered. 

A filthy grin lances across his face, the type that could impregnate women. And looking at him, he probably has. A harem of single mothers waiting on alimony cheques that’ll never come.

He clicks the wand on and pushes it to your cunt. 

“Oh fuck!” You drool as you feel it pulsing deliciously against your clit immediately. He sucks your nipple back into his mouth, whining at the taste of your skin. 

The vibrations, like soft, tingly ripples, spread from the device and explore every facet of your nerve endings. Tiny electrical pinpricks; a bubbling conduit of glittery bursts that intensify the more pressure he applies against you.

"That feel good?" You hear him graze at you.

“Mmm, I feel like I could come right now.” You sigh, gripping onto his broad, tan shoulder and enjoying being so close falling off the ledge already.

“This little toy gonna make you come, baby? Make you come for Santa?” You watch as he tongues your nipple, flicking it back and forth fast.

“Yeah. I’m almost there.” You shudder. "Mmm, fuck." You grab a hold of his hand, pushing the wand tighter against you. You can feel it pulsing in the centre, a deep winding sensation behind your abdomen; bunching and tightening. 

He clicks it up a notch, the vibrating head faster and louder against your clit. 

“Oh fuck. Yes, yes, yes!” Nails digging into the back of his hand as you grind against the wand head.

“Yeah. Come for me, baby. I wanna see Cookie come for Santa like a good slut.”

“Feels so nice like that… fuck!” You say your eyes rolling back, jaw tight and teeth clenching as you shudder and burst. Eyebrows furrowing and biting down on your lip as you come around the wand’s head. “So good, Santa… fuck, so, so good,” you pant. 

His eyes flash with wild encouragement, yet they contain a sense of addictive danger as he kisses across your breasts that taste salty with sweat and glittery fragments that stick to you as you shake.

“Such a good little elf, coming for Santa aren’t you, baby?”

He glances at you as he suckles and kisses your nipple, and pulls your face towards his for a swamping kiss that tastes acidic and makes you dizzy with it all. 

You reach down and squeeze his cock as he tosses the wand onto his bag. Stroking him over the red velour pants. He has an oily smirk; slick and fast, matching the tempo of how quickly he gets his cock out for you. Thick, veiny and pink, with a nice fat head, oozing just for you. 

“Is this all for me, Santa?” You marvel at the lack of boxers or briefs under the pants.

“Yeah.”

“You’ve got such a big cock. Mmm, that’s gonna feel so good in my tight pussy.”

“Gonna stretch you out, baby.” He takes your hand and wraps it around him, pumping.

“Fill me up.”

“Yeah, Gonna fill this slutty pussy up till you're dripping me down your thighs.” 

Your eyes are drawn to the ominous swell of his cock in your hand, astounding in its size and girth with a puff of grizzly dark hairs at the base of it. You’re trying to understand the science of how the fuck he’ll fit inside of you.

“I feel so fucking good, Cookie. So hard.” He whispers with a beguiling whip around his gritty cadence.

“Mmm,” you say, mesmerised by jerking him off. Watching as he drips for you and smearing it around his head with your thumb. 

“You wanna feel it? Feel it in your pussy, baby?”

Biting your lip you nod and grin. “Yeah.”

In a flash, he sits you on the throne, your legs hanging over the arm rests and spread wide for him.

"Fuck, look at you," he sighs at how spread and soaked you are for him.

Dieter jerks his cock as he runs his tongue up and down your slit, sucking on your clit hungrily. He swirls his tongue round and round, speedily as it flicks across your clit and makes your thighs twitch. 

“God, you taste so fucking good.” He groans.

“Like candy canes.” You giggle.

“Yeah. So sweet.”

You yank his head forward, clutching at the roots of his greying curls. His nose snuffles against the top of your mound as you feel him penetrate your hole with his tongue. 

“Fuck!” You drone as he fucks you with it.

He licks down and then runs back up again, this time gliding his nose in your folds too. Slick gathers on the end of it, shiny as it passes over your clit. 

“God, I wanna fuck this tight, little pussy.” He growls, wiping your juice from his nose and licking it away from his palm. 

Dieter pulls off the pants fully, then stands, crouching with legs spread; thick thighs supporting him as he lines himself up with your slit.

You can see the swell of his belly where the wife beater rides up and you reach forward to stroke it, feeling the galaxy of soft hairs that lead in a trail down to his cock.

You wince as he pushes in, fisting onto the hem of the vest. 

“What, huh? Too big? You can take this big cock. Come on, baby.” He looks down to see he’s halfway in; your cunt sucking him in as he traverses the fleshy, wet walls crushing around him. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“Mmm, God!” You groan, reaching for him as he pushes in all the way, deep into the hilt of you and there he stays for a moment, unmoving, just feeling you pulse and contract around him. 

He wiggles his hips and watches you breathlessly gasp. 

“Fuck me,” you plead. 

He pulls out and then slides deep again, over and over until he works up a tempo that has you panting; clawing at his arms and soaking around him. 

You sit up on the edge of the throne, legs wrapped around his lower calves as he slows into a more laboured pace. Sliding his cock in as deep as he can get it into you. He nips at your neck, running his tongue over the skin and sucking it between his teeth, marking you with purple welts.  

It’s a deep, somewhat brutal fucking, as he flexes his hips and pounds into you with determination. Taking your breath away as the jolts of your body stop you sucking more oxygen in. 

You hold onto the arm rests to steady yourself as he fucks into you. His own breath getting lodged in the back of his throat. 

You look up at him, jaw slack and eyes glazed over in ecstasy as his thighs slap relentlessly against your ass cheeks. His face his taught, veins bulging around his neck and eyes focused on you. Lined forehead coated with a sheen of sweat and you want to taste on your tongue. 

“You like this don’t you, getting fucked by Santa?” He queries with a dark smirk. 

“Aah fuck! Yeah, give it to me!” You wail. 

You can feel the weight of his balls pendulum against your ass as he thrusts relentlessly. 

"Santa fucking his little whore." He puffs.

"Fuck yeah!" You cry.

“Get up baby,” he instructs, wincing as he stands upright and clutching his lower back. 

He sits on the throne and pulls you onto him, but facing away. You hoist yourself up, feet flat on the seat either side of his thighs and lower yourself, squatting onto his cock standing tall and thick beneath you. 

“Oh, that’s it. Sit on Santa’s fucking lap, baby!” He gushes, pulling you all the way down until your cunt is flush with the base of him. 

“Oh shit, Dieter!” You cry as you feel him plunge deeper than he's already been. It forces the breath out of your lungs as you sharply inhale. "Shit, shit!"

"Call me Santa, baby." He teases.

His hands hold onto your waist; thick fingers curling around towards your belly button as you move up and down, using the arm rests to push yourself upwards. 

“Fuck, you’re so deep.” You groan as you work faster with the aid of him pushing your hips. 

“Yeah, fuck my cock, baby.” He grunts from behind you. 

You reach forward and stroke his swollen balls, groping and squeezing gently as he groans in delight. You run your hand across the both of you; feeling him plunge into your pussy, moving up to your clit as he fills you. 

“Yeah, yeah, baby. Oh fuck yeah!” He’s groaning behind you, hissing and puffing. The throne creaks and rocks under you both. 

The burning in your thighs stops you momentarily, and you step down off the throne and ride him harder, leaning forward on his thighs. 

He’s watching, hands on your ass cheeks, splaying you apart so he can see his cock delve deeper into your pussy, shiny and drenched with your slick. 

He sucks his thumb and notches it against your tight, puckered hole. You squeal in delight as he breaks through and hooks it into your ass.

“So fucking dirty baby.” He praises as you tighten around his cock. “Wish we had that candy cane now so I can put it in your ass.” 

“Oh my God…” You sigh deliciously at the seedy thought.

“You gonna come? Come with my thumb in your ass like the dirty slut you are?” 

“Mmm, yeah!” You coo. 

“Fuck yeah!” He hollers as you start to shudder and ripple around him. 

Your voice wanes, becoming nothing but a husked whisper scraping against the back crevices of your throat. But the most fascinating thing of all to him, is the way your body shakes uncontrollably on the end of his cock as he strokes the inside of your ass. 

The dreamy, heady feeling crawls over you like smoke in the dimly lit corridors of the back of the mall, choking you up. The colours of Christmas in the Grotto take on a seedy glamour, as if you're witnessing the world through the tinted lens of a noir film.

It's a sensory whirlwind, where every touch, taste, and sound carries a palpable sharpened edge, laced with a hint of danger that adds to the thrill of the fuck between you both.

His cock bottoms out in you constantly, filling you full of him and you can’t get enough. Panting and whining for more.

The knotting and binding cinches tighter and you start to fall, not into a soft cloud; it's a smokescreen of desire and kinky vice. It's the kind of state where the boundary between illusion and reality blurs, and you find yourself entangled in the gritty allure of forbidden pleasures.

Fucking Santa in a children's Grotto, and you giggle at the absurd, yet vividly decadent rapture, as your orgasm takes you and turns you out. 

“Yeah come all over my cock,” Dieter cajoles as you whine and screech, riding yourself through it until you buck and shake, unable to keep yourself up right on legs that feel like mush.  

Dieter bends you over the throne this time, kneeling on the plush seat as you cling to the back of it whilst he stands behind you, pummelling into you and seeking his own finish.

“You like taking Santa’s big cock like this?” His voice pelts the back of your neck; hair bunched and knotted around his fist.

“Yeah!” You cry out, literally clawing at the gold paint finishing. You’ll find it under your nails later. “Harder.” You whine. 

“Oh, you want it so hard, you greedy cock slut.” Wheezing like he’ll need an oxygen machine for the rest of his life, Dieter speeds up.

Obscene slapping of sweaty skin-on-skin fills the Grotto. If security were to trundle on by, there’s no mistaking you'd both be caught and the thought makes you flare. 

“Spank me, Santa!” You urge over your shoulder. 

“You want me to spank you?”

“I’ve been a very bad elf…” You pout coyly. 

“So fucking bad, baby.” He slaps across your ass, the sting making you moan out as it traverses your body.

“Mmm, yeah! More!”

“More?” He does it again, harder and it leaves a mark where you can feel the burn. 

Another slap has you screaming as you push back on his cock, meeting his every thrust. 

The sweat sheen on your back shines at him and he leans over you running his tongue up your spine to taste it. The action pushes him deeper and you both cry out in unison.

He works his hips, shunting back and forth in small, quick bursts as he fucks that tight, pretty hole and makes you mewl and gasp. 

A savage rhapsody of his unrelenting stamina that pummels you continually; all you can do is take it, whining and groaning and seeing the phosphenes glitter around your vision as he builds you up again.

It’s soaking between your legs, immensely sticky and you can feel it dripping between your thighs. You reach under yourself and stroke your clit that feels like it might explode with the simplest nudge.

It feels so good, too good, and you’re coming again, legs shaking and your back feeling like it might break in half, as he twists and pistons into you with all that he’s got.

“Where’d you want Santa to finish, baby?” He grunts desperately. 

“In my mouth.”

“Oh fuck!”

“Watch me swallow it all down, Santa.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!”

He pulls out and jerks his cock a few times before coating your waiting tongue with warm, thick spurts of him. 

“Take Santa’s load,” he groans. “Yeah, lick the tip clean, suck it. Oh yeah, that’s it… fuck. Clean me up with that slutty mouth, baby.”

He reaches down, smearing his thumb over your lips that are sticky with his pearly come. Cock in hand still, he strokes the side of your face as you look up at him and run your tongue over his length. 

“Next time, you can fill my ass.” You wink.

“Fuck,” Dieter chuckles. He has a large dimple on the left side of his face when he smiles; an almost perfect crescent, like the moon in its waxing phase. You decide instantly that it's kinda beautiful.

Standing, your hands on his chest - the wife beater drenched with sweat - you kiss him, slipping your salty tongue into his mouth and he whines, groping your ass and crushing his softening cock between you both. 

You feel him pick you up, wincing around his teeth a little, as he strains, hands splayed under your ass cheeks as he plonks you down on the counter where all the treats are kept, namely the basket of candy canes.

You groan contently into the seedy warmth of his mouth once more as he latches onto your lips, tongue exploring the wet crevices of your mouth. You cup the back of his head, yielding to the undercurrent of surrender, willingly.

Dieter takes one of the candy canes, unwraps it and slides it into your mouth. You feel his fingers stroking through your wet swollen folds, gathering it and swirling it around the rim of your ass as he puts one of your ankles on his shoulder. 

It's a feeling that goes beyond the physical, a warmth that stirs the echoes of desires you might not want to admit, but have willingly embraced nonetheless.

You want more of him, want more of this grimy bastard filling you up, and judging by how grunts, licking around your teeth and gums hungrily, Santa’s not done yet with you either. 

“Get it nice and wet, baby. That’s it.” He encourages you as you slurp and suck around the candy cane.

He takes it from you, and you bite down on your lip as you feel it pushing against your rim.

“Santa’s gonna make it disappear, baby.” Dieter, the Sleazy Santa chuckles at you, with a sly, twisted grin as you crush his rancid lips to yours once more. 

Thanks so much for reading more of Sleazy!Dieter. I hope you enjoyed him! Stay tuned for more of him in the future.🖤

MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #dieter bravo #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo the bubble #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo smut #christmas fic #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo fanfiction #jett's writing #dieter bravo fic

[moonjxsung]

First off, I want to say thank you for all the lovely messages I’ve gotten since my last post. I have a lot of people supporting me and I don’t take that for granted in the slightest. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

The truth is, I do not feel safe on this blog right now. From people demanding requests about people I don’t bias/I refuse to write about, to people sharing my socials without my consent when I’ve trusted just a handful of you with them, to people sending requests that are completely against my guidelines or even straight up admitting they’re not of age to be following this blog in the first place. This is a lot I have to deal with right now and I don’t feel comfortable proceeding the way I am right now. I want to detail a few reminders and set a few boundaries moving forward:

1. Please don’t send me anything flirty/suggestive in my inbox if it pertains to me. It was cute and funny at first, but some of my asks right now are really graphic and it sounds like you’re just using me as a device for sexual gratification instead of being flirty in a silly way. It’s disappointing that some of you had to ruin it for the adults on here who did it as a joke.

2. Please don’t send me asks about anyone who’s not a member of skz. Your ask will be deleted. I’m not giving you the attention you so desperately seek.

3. I will be carefully combing through and blocking blogs without an age indicator later today. I haven’t had the time to properly do so in a little while, so if you haven’t already done so, please have your age in your bio or you will be blocked.

4. Queued requests will be slowing down as we head into the new year. I need to take some time for myself to find what’s going to work for this blog moving forward. Requests aside from that are closed and will be until further notice.

5. I will no longer be giving out my socials to anybody moving forward. It’s so unnerving to get a random message saying “x showed me your pics and you’re so pretty!” From somebody I didn’t deliberately share my socials with. Please do not circulate any of my social handles. If we were mutuals elsewhere previously, I’ve already blocked you, and I’m sorry I had to do so.

6. Lastly- my inbox is closed, sending messages on anon is no longer available to you all and the anon list will be updated whenever I decide to return.

I want to stay on this blog and I want to continue fulfilling requests, but some of you are making it really hard for this to feel like a safe space for me. I’m not a robot who spits out work every week, I’m a human being with a job and feelings and a life outside of this. This is just a hobby and you guys make it hard for me to even just consume stray kids content when I associate it with this level of discomfort.

That being said, this blog is on a small hiatus until I feel okay to start posting again. I’m sorry to all my regular anons who these people ruined it for, I’m grateful for all of you and I promise I’ll be here to lend a kindly ear when I’m in a better place. Rest assured I have a lot to fulfill me outside of this blog and I’ll be taking care of myself so we can reunite in good spirits when the new year comes around.

I love you all of you who did curate this to be a safe space for the rest of us and I’m thinking of you very dearly. Take care

- ⭐️

#psa #taking a small hiatus #stray kids #skz #love you all

[cosmal]

𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 — 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

note — this is for @sparklingsin spookinktober!! it was queued to be posted on halloween but tumblr deleted it!! so I had to rewrite it :((( so I'm sorry that this is so late and so terrible!! I tried my best to rewrite it like it was fr. i do genuinely hate this now, i’m sorry.

summary — eddie comes back after a week and sees you in your angel costume. he has to fuck you right then and there.

warnings/tags — fem!afab!reader, she/her pronouns, smut, mdni, piv, fingering, needy!reader

wc — 1.8k

“Steve, have you seen Eddie yet?” You stand on your tiptoes to get closer to his face, leaning over the breakfast bar that separates the two of you. 

Steve probably yells too eagerly. The music is loud, but you’re not exactly far away, “Y/N like I said fifteen minutes ago, he’ll be here at 9 o’clock.” 

“What’s the time?” You laugh. Winding Steve up is always fun. 

Steve sighs like he’s annoyed. You know he’s really not, “8:45.” 

“Awesome. I’m gonna go sit on the couch until he gets here.” You tell him before spinning on your heels. The feathers of your angel wings tickle his face as you turn and Steve wrinkles his nose. 

“I’m sure you will, Y/N!” he calls before you turn the corner. 

And you do exactly that. You’ve waited for Eddie to get back all week, what’s fifteen more minutes? By the time Eddie arrives, the wiry angel wings on your back have grown a little itchy. You’d take them off if you weren’t excited to show Eddie your costume. 

Picking at a loose thread on your frilly, white skirt, you don’t even notice the pair of knees in ripped, black denim, hovering over your own. Eddie leans forward to nudge your leg with his and you startle. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” Eddie does that signature smile of his, it almost fries your brain and you forget to react. 

“Oh my god, Eds!” It’s a blur of feathers when you leap from the small couch. Pushing your arms over his shoulders and leaning your whole weight into him. He almost topples when he wraps his own arms around your back. “Eddie,” 

Eddie’s mouth finds its home in the juncture of your neck like it always does, breathing in your lost scene and pressing his lips to your skin. “Y/N.”

He pulls away, but not before you give him one last squeeze, holding you out at arm's length. “God, baby. You look so fucking hot,” he groans. 

You turn your hips until your skirt swishes, “You think?” 

Eddie reaches around to fiddle with one of the feathers, smoothing it out between his thumb and pointer. “Shit, yeah.”

“Where’s your costume?” you ask, poking him in the chest until he rocks on the balls of his feet. Heavy boots thump along with the bass of the music. 

“I’m in it,” he laughs. 

“Yeah?” 

Eddie swishes like you did but the only thing that moves is his leather jacket that stiffly flaps around his waist, “Yeah. Your boyfriend.”

You roll your eyes like you’re actually not amused by his answer, “You wear that every day.” 

“Well, you haven’t seen me in it for an entire week.” He leans in to peck your cheek. Twice for good measure. You grasp his jacket in firm hands and hold him close.

You hum, “Yeah. Missed you.” 

Eddie leans in again to snake his arms around to give your ass a squeeze, bunching your skirt in his hands. You’ve forgotten where you are for a moment when he says, “Wanna show me how much you missed me?” 

Pretending to act like you don’t want Eddie more than anything at this moment would be harder than telling him exactly what you want — so you don’t. You run a hand down his chest, over the cotton of his shirt, feeling the bumps and divots tentatively until your reach his waist. Hooking a finger around a belt loop to tug him closer. 

“I think I do.” you smile. 

Eddie groans, “Shit,” 

You can’t even pretend to be surprised at how quickly it takes Eddie to drag you to the nearest bathroom. His insatiable need has you giggling the entire way there. Pushing through strangers and ignoring the pointed look Robin shoots you from the bottom of the stairs.

Once you’re inside, Eddie fumbles with the lock on the door while you tug at his free arm, “C’mon, Eds,” you whine.

Eddie cheers when he gets the door to lock, turning to lift you up and onto the basin. The ceramics are cold where it touches the bare skin on your legs and you gasp. Eddie is quick to catch any noise with his mouth when he leans in to kiss you.

“Fuck,” kiss, “angel,” kiss, “you look so hot.”

Your laughter peels from within you and you’re huffing into his mouth, “I thought I was the one who was supposed to be showing you how much I missed you.”

He pulls away to lift your skirt up so it pools around your waist, tugging your panties down until they stretch over your knees, “Just sit there looking all pretty, that’s enough for me, baby.”

Eddie lets you do as you please, placing a firm grip to stable yourself on his shoulders when he traces the tip of his finger up your slit. Grazing down to your entrance to gather the slick that’s already begun to pool on the counter.

“So messy,” he coos, exploring with his finger to push through your pudgy folds, “Missed this pussy, angel.” 

You lean forward to press the top of your head into his shoulder, wrapping a hand around his bicep. When he finally slips a finger inside you, you let out the tiniest gasp and your hand tightens in its grip until the leather of his jacket squeaks. 

You angle your head up to leave a line of lazy kisses along his neck. Your hot breath and tiny gasps are a whisper against Eddie’s skin. He pushes a second finger in, now middle and marriage, and you hiccup against his skin. Eddie pushes in further, determined to get you to make more pretty noises that get him all worked up. 

“Eds,” you pant uselessly. More tiny gasps. 

“Y/N,” he almost mocks, exploring deeper inside your weeping hole. Slick traces down his palm and threatens to dirty his sleeve. If Eddie has ever cared about that, he’s never shown it. 

You rock your hips against the bench to try and get closer to his hand, his palm pushing into your clit. The stickiness of his thumb and pinky thudding against your skin echo in the tiny bathroom. 

Eddie can sense your neediness, “Slow down, baby.” 

You grip the hair around the base of his neck which only causes him to groan out. “Need,” you pant. 

“What d‘you need, hmm?” Eddie asks, pulling back to check you over. Using his free hand to brush the hair from your eyes. You blink at him slowly. 

“Fuck me, Eddie. Please.” Your eyes are terribly pleading and Eddie stills, deep-seated inside you. “Missed you- need you, Eds.” 

Eddie can see you working yourself up and kisses you on the highest part of your cheek. Pulling his hand from you he says, “Yeah? Need my cock?” 

“Please.” 

“You’re so, very polite,” he coos.

There’s a metal zzz of his zipper unravelling and the shushing of his jeans being pushed down just below his ass, before he’s tugging at his cock with familiarity. A familiarity that has your stomach aching. 

Eddie wraps his wet hand around the fat of your thigh to tug you closer to the edge of the basin and you yelp, bracing yourself on his chest. 

Once you’re close enough, the ruddy tip of his cock presses into your clit and you jolt, head lulling into the juncture of his neck. Eddie wraps his arms around your back and holds you close, dotting kisses over your clavicle. His teeth scrape and nip playfully until goosebumps raise your skin. 

“Ready?” he asks as he runs his cock down your slit to line up with your entrance. 

“Uh-“ you stutter, wrapping your legs around his waist, hooking your ankles together, “Uh-huh.” 

Eddie sinks in and you have to squeeze your eyes shut. “That’s it,” he groans, breath trembling, “Fuck.”

You squeeze him closer like it’s possible and gasp when the air is forced from your lungs at the proximity. Your hands tremble around stiff leather and your hips ache when he rocks in to the hilt. Filling you completely. 

“Ah — Eddie,” you gasp, harder when he’s rocking in stronger. 

Eddie starts to move, slow and tentatively, rolling his hips into your wet heat. Spreading your legs further apart and your underwear slips down onto the floor.

“Please,” you plead, “harder.” You dig your knees into his side. 

Eddie grips your thigh to hold it up and closer to him and when he feels as if he’s not hitting the right angle, he hooks his arms under both of your legs to lift you from the counter. 

Gasping, you sink down onto him, keeping your arms and ankles hooked around his body. 

Eddie moves to grasp at your ass, squeezing fat between his fingers to keep you upright. Lifting you up and you help him settle back down until you find a perfect rhythm. 

“So,” Eddie grunts, hard to be heard over the sounds of skin slapping and your pitched-up moans. You’re also lucky the music outside is loud enough to muffle anything. “so wet, sweetheart.” 

You hum what sounds like an uh-huh, trying your best to meet his movements. Eddie’s grip is tight and it stings. Pain turns to pleasure when he starts to hit the spongy spot deep inside you. 

Eddie’s doing his best to fuck you onto him. Especially when your pelvis burns and your arms ache, going limp against his frame. 

His grunts mix in with your Ah ah ah’s, Eddie has no free hands to smother your noises so he plants his lips to yours, catching any sounds. 

“Eddie,” you say against his lips, hot and wet, “M’gonna…” 

“Cum f’me, baby,” he says, speeding up. 

When he’s repeatedly hitting your sweet spot at the perfect rhythm, the coil in your core snaps, bleeding through your abdomen until you’re clamping around Eddie—tensing up in his hold. 

Weak and panty, Eddie throws you back down to the basin, hips stuttering inside you. 

“Fuck, where can I?” 

“Inside,” you say. No, beg. 

“You sure?” he groans. 

You nod your head, clamping your twitching walls around him and that’s all it takes. Dragging, now slowly through your gummy heat, his own cum sobbing from your hole when he’s finished. 

He’s pulling out, slowly when he watches your face crumple, keeping your legs hooked around his sides. Placing a wet kiss against your damp hairline, he says, “That was amazing- You’re amazing.” 

“I know,” you grin, resting your legs down until your knees click. 

“Mmm,” he kisses you again, “M’never leaving for that long, ever again.” 

“Never,” you agree. 

There’s a beat, that’s not very silent, filled with the party that’s still thrumming. Loud chants and chatter fill the bathroom from the crack under the door. 

“We should really go home,” he says. 

“I think so,” you hum, “I think I heard about ten people knocking on the door.”

“Shit,” Eddie snorts. 

“Shit.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson headcannon #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction

[imrllytootiredforthis]

VACATION SEX!!!!!! Specifically thinking about either beomgyu or lix for this one idk why they are so cute and would just be so easy to fluster

Like spending the whole day at the hotel pool or waterpark subtly teasing him, eyeing him up in his swimsuit without even hiding it just to see him blush, grabbing his ass when he walks in front of you, “accidentally” grinding up against him in the wave pool bc the water was just too rough before suddenly deciding you want to go tan as he begs to stay in the water a bit longer so he can calm down bc poor baby gets hard from the smallest touches. but of course you drag him out anyway as he pretends he doesn’t like the embarrassment of having to walk in front of everyone with a boner. & sitting him down on the towel to rub sunscreen on his chest and back, paying extra attention to his nipples as he whines that you guys are in public and anybody could see, even though he pushes his chest out into your hands for more (tsk tsk again with the pretending to hate the embarrassment) and also pretending to fumble with the sunscreen and dropping it on the opposite side so you have to lean over him to get it, putting your hand right by his throat for leverage and practically shoving your chest in his face as he whines harder

AND THEN FINALLYYY after a long day of him having to endure all the torturous touches and you making up excuses to stay at the pool longer because it’s funny to see him lose it, you bring him back to the room. and he is already desperate and pliant just waiting to be thrown around and used as your little doll. he’s sitting patiently on the bed as you lock the door and put up the do not disturb sign before turning to him and shoving him down onto the bed, climbing onto his lap and grinding against him like how he’s been waiting for all day. bonus points for a sloppy kissing session with his arms pinned by his head as he can hardly reciprocate bc he’s moaning so much and begging as he thrusts up into your bathing suit, asking in the sweetest voice “please please take it off, touch me, just do anything!” and how can you resist your sweet boy who’s been so patient even though he’s been waiting so long?

and round 2 in the shower afterwards bc you can’t go to bed soaked in that chlorine water… but i had this epiphany while i was scrolling through pinterest and had to tell you. anyway i see that you’re having another busy week, remember to take breaks and relax if things get too overwhelming!! also don’t forget to eat and drink water:) nothing is more important than your mental and physical health

-🎀

thank you so much<3, i'm actually gonna take a break over the weekend so everything i post is queued and i'm just going to relax for the holidays and recharge after everything that's been going on!

honestly, thank you for caring, it feels really good to have people understanding that it takes quite a bit out of my time and is also mentally as well as physically draining,

but anyway,

going on a vacation with lixie, holy fuck, the sunscreen visual you gave me was the best fucking thing in the world,

teasing him all while under the guise of simply keeping the poor baby's skin safe from the sun, brushing over his nipples, smirking as he whines about being and public, begging you to stop all while he keeps pushing his chest further into your touch and you really can’t help but notice the way he’s subtly pressing himself against your knee

whispering to him about how he’s a dirty boy, wanting to get off on your thigh in front of all these people, the little perv

he tries his very hardest not to moan from that, his lip pulled between his teeth, tiny hands fisted at his sides to keep from touching your when you ‘accidentally’ drop the lotion bottle, leaning over his body to retrieve it

after you notice how red your baby is, brushing your fingers over his freckles with a slight frown, cooing about how he’s gotten burnt all while you know damn well the effects you’re having on him. He nods along sullenly, giving his best puppy eyes and you decide to be merciful, saying you should go back to the room now so he doesn’t get more burnt

that do not disturb sign getting put to good use but he only blushes as you put it up, imagining about fifty different positions he wishes you would fuck him in right about now

he’s just so needy when you finally touch him, whining and pawing at your body, lips latching onto your skin wherever they can find purchase.

so sensitive and so worked up, moaning when you finally begin to grind down on him. he swears he can see stars, he’s so pent up from all of your teasing touches and malicious, knowing smiles

his hands rest on your hips, wanting to explore, not wanting to piss you of any further, looking up at you with the sweetest doe eyes

“can I touch, please, please, let me touch, I promise, I promise, I’ll make you feel good, I’ll make you feel so good.”

his lips leave wet kisses all over the top of your chest, a trail of saliva left behind costing your skin

but no, no because you pin his hands above his head, “no touching puppy.”

Poor puppy cries out, as you kiss him, messy and sloppy with teeth and tongue and drool and his tears mixing in, thrusting up desperately

and when you pull away you can’t help but admire how pretty he is, all messed up

“i-I’ll do anything! I’ll be good-I promise I’ll be so good!” He cries

so you take pity, grabbing the phone off the nightstand and handing it to him while you reach over to put the number in.

“okay puppy, call room service for me, make sure to not make a sound and maybe if you do good baby, I’ll give my good boy a reward~”

you slither down his body, pulling his swim trunks down right as a voice comes over the phone

“room service, how can I help you?”

—

sorry this is a bit sloppy and rushed, I wrote it on my phone right as I was about to leave😭

#inbox💌 #sub felix #stray kids hard thoughts #hard thoughts #ideas👀 #felix smut #felix x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #sub stray kids

[deedala]

✨ weekly tag wednesday ✨

thanks for tagging me @heymacy @energievie and @mybrainismelted !! 💖

(disclaimer: there is presently a glitch with tumblr that only allows you to tag 5 people per line in your text posts. to remedy that, you can separate your tags into different lines as i have at the bottom of this post to ensure that everyone that's tagged knows they've been tagged!)

**

name: deanna

age: noel

your time zone: EST (or apparently EDT currently as its during daylight savings? when it goes from UTC-5 to UTC-4. Time is a construct.)

what do you do for work? i help color other peoples comics

do you have any pets? narp

what first drew you to this fandom? i had tried several times to watch shameless since it started but kept getting turned off by how gross frank was lmao. i really like cameron monaghan though and back in 2022 i was just in a good place (apparently) to finally push through (and skip!!) the gross frank shit and watch the show. i think i watched some of it. and then i went and just watched gallavich scenes on youtube? and then i went BACK and rewatched all of the actual show? over and over again lol. my love of cameron monaghan and shameless's vibe just finally clicked into place amen.

are you a morning person or a night owl? i guess moreso a night person since i suffer desperately from revenge bedtime procrastination. but also at the same time i dont like sleeping in very late either or itll feel like the whole day fucked. but also i wanna sleep for 9 hours.

what are your hobbies? tv and film enjoyer, drawing, reading, video games, being silly

how tall are you? 5'2" or 157cm (please help me reach the things on the top shelf)

if you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live? iceland? ireland? new zealand? ...really into lands ig

favorite color? mint green

favorite book? the masked empire by patrick weekes still holds this spot

favorite movie? the fall, the eagle, love and monsters, princess bride, the mummy, vampire academy

favorite fic? intro to quantum dating, cooperative gameplay, fine art of falling for you, love is a ballfield, none the wiser, two of your earth minutes, the menagerie, apotheosis, ma--*the microphone is forcibly removed from my hands*

favorite musical artist: chappell roan, cake, petey, dove cameron

what is your average screen time so far this week? thats none of my business

what's the first app you open in the morning? discord~

how long have you been on tumblr? 12.5 years

finally (and i know this one is hard) tell me a fun fact about yourself: i dunno if its a *fun* fact but i used to be a licensed cosmetologist. i know how to do all the things i just realized i hate interacting with customers and could not bear to carry on with that a career after about a year of it lol

and now i shall tag some precious nuggets who can play or simply accept this offering of a🫸 face squish 🫷😚 @darlingian @too-schoolforcool @michellemisfit @thepupperino @metalheadmickey @softmick @callivich @vintagelacerosette @squirrel-fund @creepkinginc @whatwouldmickeydo @gallawitchxx @mickeysgaymom @suzy-queued @crossmydna @gardenerian @mmmichyyy @tanktopgallavich @rereadanon @heymrspatel @the-rat-wins @iansw0rld @loftec @palepinkgoat @themarchg1rl @jrooc @thisdivorce @blue-disco-lights @sam-loves-seb @sickness-health-all-that-shit @samantitheos @lee-ow @sleepyfacetoughguy @transmickey @lingy910y @tsuga-of-mars @ardent-fox @purplemagpie @captainjowl @wehangout @mikhailoisbaby 💖💖💖

#weekly tag wednesday #tag game

[a-d-nox]

pac/pap (creature feature: werewolf): what hidden truth does the moonlight illuminate? where do you lack control? where are you in transition?

welcome to my october pac/pap creature feature series - instead of having a single pac/ pap this month, there will be five! every monday (at 5p / 17:00 EST) this october, a new creature will be coming out to play as the sun begins to set earlier and earlier... keep an out; you never know what is lurking in the darkness..

today's creature is the werewolf: song queued: "she wolf" by shakira! when was the next full moon again? phew a few weeks to go... half man, half beast, the werewolf is - according to lore - forced to transform on every full moon. the once civilized man loses control of his body and senses.

take what resonates leave what doesn't - nothing is 100% for you because these aren't personalized so please no angry comments or dms about what i am saying not being a good fit for you or that you "don't claim" just keep scrolling if that is the case. be kind, self reflect, and have fun.

last pac/pap: creature feature: the beholder - what do you see that no else does? what aren't you hearing?

want a personal reading? click here to check out my reading. options and prices!

pile one

the truth is that you must share your ideas more actively - you need confidence that matches your passion. you can trust that you will be accepted for your ideas - and if not where you first attempt to be so, you will find yourself in a more accepting place the next attempt. if you keep doubting your abilities, you might just find that you can't grow like you hope/dream to. so the spotlight (moonlight) is on you - share what you want to / are passionate about right now.

oof you are really trying to control a lot right now. things aren't going as you expected, huh? you can't control that something is close to the end of its cycle. it's okay that you are going to miss that something - know that you should be celebrating instead. celebrate your wins. you have done so much! new things are just around the corner.

a power transition in your life is underway. you are being given a chance to lead and prove your strength. make sure that you are leading from a place of wanting to see others succeed instead of one where you are asserting your power over others. you can't just be thinking about yourself right now, remember that "with power comes responsibility" - it's not just about you anymore it's about those around you too.

pile two

your disconnection for others and your beliefs seems to be in the spotlight right now. you might be feeling hopeless and alone in your situation right now - it's time to reconnect and recharge. a cleansing is needed - do not lose faith, you are right were you are supposed to be, despite how painful this moment may be. let the glimmering moonlight be a sign that healing is ahead - better days are coming.

i feel like your schedule right now is unsustainable - you are stretched too thin and juggling too much all at once. you might have too many school/work responsibilities considering your personal ones. this is all making you feel emotionally drained (have you stress cried recently - i feel like you might have). you should know that you are currently "leveling up"; anytime you level up in life, this type of challenge to your routine occurs. do things in moderation and ask for help if you need it (there is no shame in reaching out for help).

an opportunity has arisen recently that is going to change your world - likely in a monetary way. there is a new beginning on the horizon. you are getting even closer to the life that you have been dreaming of - prosperity is in your future, it is written in the stars. you are cultivating abundance for yourself and i couldn't be more proud. you have unlimited potential - keep it up.

pile three

new moon energy. there are a lot of things that you are hiding, you are also likely refusing to acknowledge the truth, and you are refusing to look at things deeply (which can be good (you're not reading too heavily into things) and it can be bad (you might not be "reading the fine print")). you aren't listening to your intuition like you should be - stop deceiving yourself. trust that you are capable and you are worthy of so much more than you are currently doing / have.

right now a relationship of yours is extremely out of balance (someone is doing all the work in the relationship or someone is extremely co-dependent in the relationship). it is not good to rely too heavily on a partner to fulfill your needs. your expectations might be unrealistic which causes you to feel even more out of control. look inward so you can better find the source of your disharmony.

i feel like you reading that last paragraph has your wheels turning - the transition ahead of you has to do with your relationships. you are noticing that there is a imbalance in what you are giving versus what you are receiving. i know that receiving things makes you feel weird (you feel unworthy/undeserving), but get use to it - haha! stop feeling obligated to give back equal to what you have received - things are being given of their own volition, no one expects you to give back what you were gifted. simply remember that kindness breeds kindness - the more comfortable you become with receiving, the more you will gain.

want a personal werewolf reading? tip 4.99 USD with the comment "werewolf" and i will privately get back to you with what hidden truth the moonlight illuminates for you, where you lack control, AND where you are in transition!

other then that, thank you for reading! don't forget to comment down below which monster you believe is coming to join us next monday?

#astrology #astro community #astro placements #astro chart #asteroid astrology #asteroid #natal chart #persona chart #astrology tumblr #tarot reading #tarot deck #tarot #tarot witch #tarotdaily #tarotcommunity #tarot cards #tarotblr #pick a photo #pick a pile #pick a card #pick an image #pick a picture #werewolf

[heaven-with-mark]

i’m rlly craving some fluff w mark. like literally anything will suffice. you’re one of the only people who write mark in a way i can actually see him as irl, your acct is very precious to me <33 take your time in this cause i saw it’s finals week! good luck!

"editing."

Mark often got lonely while editing. it was such an extensive process because he truly wanted the best for his viewers, so it tended to take longer than most would would do. you joined him on some occasions, often sitting at the couch in the back of the room and offering simple conversation; even just your presence was enough for him, knowing he could turn and see you there with him.

those times had began to dwindle lately, to the point you joining him was a rare occasion. today, he was editing late into the night. you had retired to be not long ago, leaving the house eerily silent and almost empty feeling. he tak-ed away at his keyboard, trying to line a frame up to merge with another clip. his door, cracked open to cycle cool air, creaks open. assuming it's just one of the animals, he pays no mind. "Mark?" you yawn, rubbing the sleep from your eyes unsuccessfully. your partner turns to you, surprised at your sudden visit. you were bundled in the soft blanket you loved so much, looking like the hunchback with the way you wore it. "yes, my love?" Mark rasped, extending a hand in invitation as he swiveled his chair towards you. you pad towards him, taking his hand with two of your own and holding it tight, rubbing quarter circles into his palm. you yawn again, "when will you be done?" Mark turned to look at the time on his dashboard, eyes blowing wide once he truly sees how late it is. he turns back to you and immediately apologizes, "I think it'll still take an hour more. do you want to sit with me?"

with a nod, he pulls you into his lap, back to his chest. you sit and watch him work, his arms caging you between him and his desk. small talk comes easy, offering a comfortable silence in between random blips of vocalized thoughts. talk about recent news, politics, what you two should do next week. his heart thrums at your sleepy voice, light and airy but still so cheery. quieter than usual, tone high; a large contrast against Mark's bass-y speech. your head tips back to rest against his shoulder, tilting to press a soft, appreciative kiss to his jaw. he hums, turning to press a kiss to your forehead in return. he was absolutely smitten with you, head over heels. his little hunchback in her soft blanket two times bigger than what she really needed. when you yawned for the nth time, Mark pressed a kiss to your temple, "get up real quick?" he swivels his chair so you can stand per his request, and your blanket-hood drops as he spins you to straddle his lap. your arms drop to wrap around him, stealing his warmth right of his body. he rests his head on your shoulder, tired mind trying to focus back on his work. he should be done soon, maybe in the next twenty minutes. you nuzzle into his neck, enjoying the leftover scent of his cologne mixed with his shampoo. just as quick as Mark's hand had returned to his mouse, he pulled it to your back, stroking down in comforting touches. your body relaxed, and rather quickly he could hear your soft snores in his ear, simply puffs against his skin. he returns to his work, knowing you were soundly content and asleep. with him, in his arms, motivating him to wrap up this stubborn editing process. when he was finally finished and the video was queued for the next day, he slowly rose. as he stood, his hands found support under your upper thighs to carry you to bed. you hold on tighter, mumbling something he couldn't catch. Mark bumped the lightswitch with his elbow, leaning back as he continued down the hall with you. blearily, you pressed your forehead to his shoulder, vaguely aware you were in motion.

Mark nudged the bedroom door open, gently settling you into your side of the bed. he took the blanket you clutched on to, flaring it over you to tuck you back in. when he retired to his side, you subconsciously reached a hand out in search. he met you in the middle, pulling you flush against him. you mumbled something along the lines of, 'g'night, i love you' into his chest. "I love you too," he held you tight, "goodnight honey."

#mark fischbach x reader #markiplier x reader #i'm on a soft roll tonight omg

[swann-song]

daydreaming - part two

summary: you start spiralling thinking about pierre. unbeknownst to you, he’s just the same

eavesdropping is a sin. so doing so in a church must be a double sin but you couldn’t help yourself. since pierre had come to your work, you’d become sensitive to any mention of him. your ears physically perked up and it took a lot of effort to appear casual, uninterested even. however, when you hear ms. chavanges talking to her friends about pierre, god would understand. before sunday sermon, you heard his mother asking which girls her friends thought suitable. you heard them throw around twelve or so names, with a comment on said girls profession, her dating history, families and some of the girls that had even asked about pierre themselves. you felt indignant that your name wasn’t brought up by the time the sermon started.

you weren’t paying any attention, your mind was spiralling. you’d been single a couple years now, and was generally well liked, the age gap between yourself and pierre was big but really your old enough now that it hasn’t mattered for a while. your thoughts circled and circled, you became angry at no one in particular. your mother kept dragging you up and poking your thighs to get you to pay attention but everything unrelated to pierre was in one ear, out the other.

when the congregation got up to leave, you tried to fidget around so you could hear a bit more of ms. chavanges plans but your mother pulled you out impatiently. "you weren’t listening at all were you" your mother scolded you as you walked to the car. "we have to hurry i have to make the cake before dinner". you stared out the window, quite puzzled, why wouldn’t ms. chavanges mention you, you knew she liked you, why was she only mentioning blondes, does pierre prefer blondes?. "what are you thinking about, your so quite" your mother was driving like a lunatic, but you’ve become completely desensitised to it.

you hadn’t mentioned pierre to anyone, not that there was anything to say. your mother knew you had a crush on him in your teens but she had rolled her eyes at it, it was a phase after all. you haven’t been pining for him for a decade, you’d liked others and dated even. you’d liked him at 16 and even now at 26, she’d just say your nostalgic.

that night you could barely sleep, it felt like you were regressing in some way, having an immature crush on someone so completely unavailable wasn’t a good sign. it had been harmless enough when he didn’t even know you, when you’d be on the same aisle at the supermarket and he wouldn’t notice, or when queuing at the post office together, it was mainly boredom than anything…

now that he knows your name though and the image of his smile as he waved at you is etched into your mind it isn’t fun anymore. although you are within each others orbit, pierre isn’t someone you have any connection to, you don’t have his number, you have no mutual friends or frequent the same places. you resent your mother for not being friends with his. for the next few weeks you become impatient and irritated, short with your friends, ditzy at work and very self hating.

you go to sleep daydreaming being close to pierre, reminiscing the deep hum in his voice, imagining his lips close to your cheek, speaking to you sweetly. as you get restless and the night goes on, the imaginings become less innocent. your hands roam your body imaging it’s pierre’s, his rough hands and strong arms. you feel a tinge of guilt and shame after your release, the fatigue sets in and you can finally sleep. it doesn’t feel great to be getting off to the thought of a guy you’ve had one conversation with.

*

pierre had built a fixation on you. he always had a lot of time to think and since he met you, he’d only thought of you. he always had a million and one chores, having the same conversations with his parents and friends. he thought of you constantly and had begun to zone out, everyone snaps their fingers in front of him to get his attention. he wanted to see you again, having already finished the russian epic, he knew he had an excuse to go back to your work. he had been putting it off, going through every scenario, trying to anticipate your reactions.

he found you on instagram, he scrolled through your profile every night. it didn’t have much, mostly group pictures from events, your amateur photography and book reviews. his fingers went back to the handful of pictures with your face. he was puzzled, how had you always been there and he hadn’t seen, was he really that blind and detached. your beautiful, unbelievably so. he thought of your lips again, the soft plum bottom lips, he imagined biting them. your voice was ringing in his ears, the way it twinkled, the mocking tone when you corrected him. he remembered your hair in a mess, the rings curling at your neck, some resting on your décolletage. he had wanted to run his hands through it, following it down your back, wanted to rest his hands around your waist.

"angelique bought you a new tart to try, isn’t that sweet of her" pierre’s mother didn’t even let him fully enter the kitchen, he hummed noncommittally and took a chair at the table. his father moved the plate of tart towards him. taking a fork, he had a bite and nodded to his parents, he was hardly qualified to judge but hoped it would get them off his back. the lunch had a tension from his mother he recognised, she was waiting to drop a bomb on him, while his father casually flipped through his paper, no ally to his son. this atmosphere wasn’t good for his digestion, that’s for sure.

his mother cleared her throat, pierre braced himself, that’s lunch done. "don’t you think angelique's a nice girl… quite pretty too" just what pierre needed, a set up. "the baker? of course, i suppose" that usually did the trick, his mother wasn’t the best matchmaker and it’s not like she knew he was obsessed with you, can’t blame her for trying. another pause. "i’ve invited her over for dinner tomorrow night, she’s bringing dessert" pierre's eyes narrowed at his mother. it’s one thing to talk about these girls but to invite them over was ridiculous. "isn’t that nice" he drawled, his mother noticed his insincerity and began to speak, pierre was already across the house and going to his office. angelique may be having dinner here tomorrow, but he won’t

so it’s decided, pierre grabbed his book determined to see you today.

daydreaming masterlist

#sorry if the slow burn is too slow #i should shut up lol #swann arlaud #petit paysan #bloody milk #pierre chavanges #fanfic #y/n