min-mingi - Tumblr blog

[min-mingi]

chewing on him like a chew toy. maybe little squeaks coming out too

[min-mingi]

Leon S. Kennedy in Resident Evil 2 (2019)

[min-mingi]

minors dni 💕

re2 leon just gets so horny whenever ur around. poor baby can’t help it :(

making urself a coffee in the break room? he’s watching your face of concentration, how your brows lightly furrow, how your tongue peaks out of the corner of your mouth. he wonders what it’d look like when you cum.

you’re practising in the shooting range? his eyes are locked on how you hold the gun with such perfection, holding it tight to prevent any recoil, cramping fingers twitching around it. he’s imagining how you’d hold his cock, would you hold it tight? or soft, as if it would break?

speaking to another officer, maybe even offering some light flirting? he’s focused on how smoothly your voice runs, how effortless the words spill from your pretty mouth. he’s thinking of all the sounds he could get you to make, wondering if they’d be short gasps & whines, or deep moans and breathy laughs.

so, he of course has to avoid you. he enjoys these brief mental images, but he can’t just not do any work. especially since he’s a rookie, he’ll get fired :/.

but oh, you already have him wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. he’s started to get hard at even the mere thought of you, and on most some nights, he’s in bed, the shower, his couch, cock twitching and leaking in his hand as he cries out, cries out for you.

whimpering your name, heavy moans, sometimes even humping the pillow imagining its you.. all that shit. you’ve got him hooked, with what? like, four.. maybe five conversations? all brief, all pretty surface-level.

all you know him as is the new rookie, bright-eyed and adorably shy, but he knows you. your full name, your part on the force, your work friends… he wasn’t just always observing you, he observed your surroundings too. but that was only in the station.

one night, a particularly lonely one, he did some digging… okay, a lot of digging. found out your personal friends, some of your family’s names, where you like to go on weekends, how your apartment looks… he’s not being creepy, he’s being curious.

sucks that his brain seems to stop working whenever you’re talking to him, it’s like he’s a stammering teenage boy all over again. he wants to ask you out so bad, to treat you right, but he chickens out at every opportunity to take you on a date.

so, for now, he’s stuck with his hand or the pillow, letting out desperate whines and breathless groans as he thinks of you, the things he wants to do to you, what he wants you to do to him. chasing that blissful high, a high he hopes you know is meant for you. every last bit.

he hopes that he can muster the courage to ask you to get drinks one of these days, his usual methods are getting pretty boring. :/

[min-mingi]

Your fave confessing while they're thrusting inside you for the first time ever. "You feel better than I imagined." "I pictured this all the time." "I can't believe I finally get to do this with you." "I'm never letting you go after this."

[min-mingi]

roomate with benefits!geto who returns from work, stressed, to the apartment you share with him. he's ready for a long shower, only to find you in the sole bathroom the place had taking a bath.

your nude body relaxing in the pink bubbly water, a cigarette between your fingers with the smoke lazily dancing above the tip. soft melodies coming from your speaker fill the cramped space with a soothing hum.

you look up at him and smile softly. he returns the gesture, a slight tint of fatigue in his expression. his tired eyes lazily scan your body, taking in your figure as he leans against the doorframe.

"how was work?" you ask.

"awful," he sighs.

you don't answer. instead, you take a drag of your cigarette and gesture with your finger for him to get closer. he huffs a soft laugh, pulling the hairband from his long hair before he starts unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

he undresses until he's down to his briefs, then sits on the edge of the bathtub and takes the cigarette from your fingers. he takes a long drag, the smoke curling out from his nose as he exhales with a loud sigh.

"wanna get in?" you offer.

-

the splashes of the bath water almost compete with envy with the wet sounds of your pussy being pounded. geto was laying down on the bath, his neck on the pink headrest you bought online, his long legs spreading alongside the small bathtub. his fingers were gripping the sides of your hips so hard that they may leave a couple bruises. you were riding him - well, you were on top of him while he fucked you.

from your point of view, you could appreciate his expressions. how his brows furrowed, how his teeth sank on his bottom lip, how his eyes rolled back into his skull when you swayed your hips in circular motions. he was a sight for sore eyes with his pale skin flushed from the pleasure and his black hair damp from the water.

his length was buried deep inside your walls, his balls slamming against your ass when he thrusted up. he may've been tired, but that never meant a mediocre fuck. no, he always went all out with you. always so passionate.

"fuck- you're being so good to me, always so good. being my little stress ball, my little toy to relieve my stress, hm? you like it when i use you like this?"

[min-mingi]

your pining f/o buys your perfume to spray on their pillow to imagine you’re sleeping beside them at night . . . and also to press their face into whilst they furiously jerk off to the thought of you

[min-mingi]

He is so Cute..ㅠㅠ

[min-mingi]

[min-mingi]

I dont know man, I feel like biting John Marston would just solve some things for me yk?

[min-mingi]

[min-mingi]

He’s such a comfort character to me he makes me so happy

[min-mingi]

˖⁺ ♥︎ ⋆ 𝒦𝐿𝒰𝒯𝒵

꒰ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 . . . ꒱ 2.4kay word count , fem reader , daddy kink , gilf dick ! ! ! ! ! , big dick rick :3 , ball worship , kind of mean rick , ditzy reader , kind of soff’ . . w feelings ? mayb . .

𝜗ϱ 𝓁𝓊𝓋 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 𝒻𝓇𝓂 𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓀 . . . i wrote dis for mi . goin thru a lil bit of a rick sanchez brainrot sniffle :c thought dis cld ease mi out frm it .

“do you think you deserve this? do you s-serio — huuarrpp — usly think you d-deserve my dick within mere inches of you?”

your response is expected — a blubbery fuss and dewy eyed stare, one full of raw, unrefined pleadings for absolution — it’s entirely, one hundred percent expected. rick knows you like the back of his hand. he knows almost all, nearly all, basically all, and you, sweet, little you, sit atop of that list — primped and pretty, spine straightened, one plush thigh crossed upon the other.

you’re aware that he does.

the position the two of you find yourselves in is one, more than not, complicated. you suppose there’s a better word for position, because physically, rick ‘know it all’ sanchez, has you laid atop of the hood of his car, on a barren planet, its soil, a dull colored magenta. in quick, sparing glances, you noticed how it’s molded with craters all over and hanging high within a sky shaded with topaz, two suns shine — bright and sweltering. rick’s car is more of a circular shaped air craft and if it weren’t for the both of his hands pressed into your hip, holding you steady, gravity would have had you slipping.

you started off on your back after he’d basically snatched you out of it and pressed you against the hood, hissing about how he hadn’t known that you could be so stupid — that if he knew that you were just as dumb and going to be a handful as morty, he would’ve left you back at the house. it was when the predicted tears began to trickle down your blush dusted cheeks that he thrusted one of your legs atop of the other, slanting himself out of the opened gap of them momentarily as he did so that they now lay stacked, positioned near his left hip.

the idyllic position for him to carelessly flick the bottom hem of your tiny, sad excuse of a dress up onto your torso and slip the pulsing, thick rod of his dick in between the smooth, fat cushioning of your thighs, right up against your cunt, devoid of cotton, lace, or even a simple string.

this is what got you both into this situation here.

“d-didn’t know,” your voice is quiet, embarrassed. good. you should be. “rick, ‘m sorry—“

“—almost g-got the both of us fucking killed. you, you . . you don’t think, j-jesus, you never do. no panties, on an alien planet inhabited by gazulons who can scent out pheromones light years away,” rick’s frown is deep. it etches into the pale, slatey skin around his mouth, pushes firm lines into his stubble dotted cheeks. and it’s incapable of growing any deeper, so when the fresh memory of you being cowered within the corner of an alleyway, surrounded by nearly a dozen, seven feet tall, tentacle for hands, stalk of eyes aliens, to express more of his anger, he compresses the pads of his fingers more firmly into your skin until he sees you wince.

honestly, he’s surprised. you’re soft. you’re so fucking soft. he wouldn’t be surprised if the blade of a knife came ricocheting back if it were to ever press into you. you’re like crème caramel — firm but sickeningly sweet. you bounce back when rick pokes, tremble when he pushes.

rick had only turned his back on you for a second to trade out a few crystals for a widget needed for the most recent device he’s been building over the past few days or so — ironically, a tracking device, for you.

that’s how this always goes, though. more often than not, rick closes his eyes to blink, turns his back, splits away for two seconds to take a fucking shit, and it’s never long until you’re getting yourself into some type of trouble. he hadn’t known a person could be such a magnetite for peril until he met you.

you don’t respond well to chastises, reprimands, and long explanations completed with whiteboards and diagrams drawn upon them after rick has to ultimately save your ass. no, he finds that this works much better. his dick, that is. when he shoves it down your throat and calmly explains why you can’t accompany him to a planet known for exterminating sweet, ditzy little things like you to regulate their population, you’re giving him a nod of understanding with strings of cum strewn over your cheeks and lips. when he has it buried deep inside the spasming walls of your pussy, fat cockhead nudging incessantly against the bumpy ridge of your cervix as if he were trying to make room for it inside, his words are damn near liquid gold. you grasp every single one and clutch them close against your bosom within your heart.

when the slender lines of his hips starts to move with purpose, you’re to only watch how his red, angry tip sheathes and reveals itself within the wrap of his foreskin as it plunges between your thighs, back and forth. on the more particularly rough forces, it prods against the swollen nub of your clit, each one sending a tiny current of electricity zapping up your spine.

you adore rick. you absolutely do. it’s never in your agenda to be a handful, nonetheless, you’re aware that you are. the adventures he takes you on are nothing less than adrenaline racing, and if you’re honest, the only times where rick pays attention to you. you don’t think you purposely push yourself into life or death situations, becoming too much of a hassle and getting banned from joining him on another has come to be one of your greatest fears, but, you’re beginning to think that maybe, subconsciously, you do so to get this treatment from him right here.

his eyes are only on you, not on anyone else’s or a tinkering machine, but yours. the cold pads of his fingers are pressed against your skin, his cock is throbbing, pulsing, standing upright just for you.

it’s the ultimate honor, you think.

“daddy, ‘m sorry,” you mewl and wrap your hands around his wrists.

“oh, that’s nice,” he bites out, thick brows dipping low into his eyes to mimic a familiar face of distaste. “g-guess ‘m daddy now. d-dunno — uuurrp — why it took me this long to realize t-that you may just be like every o-other fucking twenty one year old girl on earth. a caffeine addict with daddy issues.”

disregarding his words, you note how the little hole upon his tip tenses before it releases a fat dollop of precum that falls onto your thigh and begins to trickle over it. he likes it.

“c’mon,” you’re whining and trying to open your legs, bucking your hips to get the mushroom head to breach the clenching hole of your cunt. “daddy, please?”

a firm line within his jaw clicks. god, you’re frustrating. at the end of these long, winding days, after hopping endless universes and making clones of himself at the drop of a dime, rick is only a man.

you watch the thin, though plush, skin of his lips purse before he’s letting a dribble of spit fall from them and onto the meat of your pussy. he watches you shudder when he first eases in . . watches your eyes roll back into your head, the tautness of your muscles ease . . god.

it’s as though you hadn’t just got fucked within an inch of your life just twelve hours ago.

“y-you know maybe i should f-figure out another punishment for you,” he grumbles, letting his cock sink deeper and deeper into the all consuming chamber of warm, gushy, softness that is you your pussy. “make you wait in the car from here on out, tie you up, maybe . . spank you?” provisionally, rick lifts his hand before letting it fall onto the fat chub of your left ass cheek. your response is a flinch and whine. he’d be an absolute dumbass to not notice how you lick your lips, curl your toes, and nibble down on the bottom to imprison a frail whimper of sweet desire. of course, you like that, too.

“the fuck am i going to do with you, huh . . .”

he hangs his head when he starts to move — when he starts to thrust and pound and fuck. your pussy is something magical. rick won’t lie, he’s been around. he’s fucked more than he’s honestly should and in no way is he someone who likes to rank his partners, he has a way of knowing just how good a person can take dick just by looking at them so they’ve all sort of, kind of been on the same caliber, however, he thinks you are number one.

you take him beautifully — just lay and mewl and sniffle and moan.

his balls hang low. heavy, full, wrinkled, and dusted with hairs the color of cobalt blue. they plop plop plop against the tight, star shaped hole of your ass when he adjusts your legs to bend them up at the knees which he holds within the creases of his elbows. the position leaves you flat on your back and his face only a few inches above your own. his car rattles with his vigor and speed, a few loose screws scream at you both to take it down a notch.

your pussy squelches and pulses, creaming around his shaft that only pounds her harder — forcing her to push out more thick, sweet milk. “ungh, d-daddy, f-forgive me?” your hands, soft and small, fingernails layered with almond shaped acrylic, the same hands rick shoved a couple hundreds into’s palms to get done, cradle his face. “m, hng, m s-sorry.”

you feel so good. you’re so good. your tits bounce within the bustier of your dress, one threatens to spill over it. he views a peek of spotted, chocolate brown. “f-fuck, you know . . what you’re doing,” he hisses, shoving one of your legs higher until it dangles over the hill of his shoulder. “ ‘m l-leaving you on the next mission.”

he watches your face crumble — well, as much as it can while being glazed over with precious relief as his cockhead strokes up against that nice, little clump of nerves angled near the roof of your cunt. “baby, no,” you whine with a dejected crack of your voice between the words. “don’t be, h-hah, mean.”

what’s mean is you using your pussy, your smile, your eyes, your hands, your smell to drag him in like this. you’re the worst kind of drug. “i am.” he takes the initiative to kiss you, and it’s a messy thing, full of tongue and heavy breaths. you taste whisky and mint and a heat in your core starts to brew and fester akin to a bubbling concoction within a beaker. “nothing, y’nothi— nothing but a f-fucking, sweet fuckin’ christ, distraction. can’t do shit by yourself, n-need daddy with you everywhere you go.”

you feel the rough paw of a hand, large and firm, upon the back of your head. rick forces it down and makes you watch his cock drop inside and rise up again out of your needy cunt. it glistens beneath the beaming rays of the suns. you see how the veins decorating column of it twitch and flutter with rushing blood. “ ‘m g-gonna,” you tremble, fisting a hand within the strands of his hair. “. . mmm, rick — oh god, rick . .”

a man of his age can only keep a hard, quick speed for so long, however, when he slows down, rick rocks himself in deeper. pushes himself in until your clit rubs up against the ragged hairs that cushions the skin above his dick. “so fuckin’ dirty,” he mumbles, letting your head go to instead grab hold of your face. he kisses you again, this time, a bit more softer. “g-gonna cum all over m’dick, huh? gonna say thank you when you’re done, huh? that’s what, y’know, that’s what good girls do.”

his touch is what pushes you over the edge.

he shoves his face into your neck to suckle a faint bruise of love while his hand snatches down the top of your dress to have your tits fall into his palm. firmly, he grips it. squeezes and kneads and rolls it within the heel of his hand. he touches you as though you were a doll made of rubber and silicone — he manhandles and fondles. he touches you as if you’re his and his alone.

when you cum, your pussy damn near crushes his cock. it tightens up, nice and hard, so that the physical release of your orgasm is able to properly kindle and rush out as thick streams of slick and cream. you’re whimpering your thank you’s, clawing your nails into his hips to ride it out for as long as you can.

“ngh, fuck, get on, knees, get on your knees.”

rick’s pulling out with a hand wrapped tightly around his base when your orgasm, inevitably, starts to fade. you notice that his eyes are closed, face is tensed. when you comply, his hand is at the back of your head again and he’s leading you towards his sac which begins to bounce and jerk in time as he fists his cock, nice and quick. “awe, yeah . . awe, fuck — uh huh, g-good girl, lick my balls.”

you hum as you lathe your tongue across the furrowed skin, stroking it over the seam and the two, round globes on either side of it. your lips pucker and cheeks sink in while you suckle one inside of your mouth and let fall out with a loud pop. “mmm.”

he rubs his thumb beneath the tip, stroking it left and right, each time his fist rises to the tall pillar of it. “unh . . y-yeah, nasty fuckin’ — . . . s-s-shit.”

his entire body shudders as he cums. you continue to hum and stroke your tongue along the salt tinged skin of his balls as you hear the faint splatters of a few ribbons of cum hitting the metal of his car behind you. he’s always been more of a shooter, only dribbles when he’s pent up and tired.

“hmm.” he can only stare, half a smirk lifting the corner of his lips when your tongue starts a slow drag up the shaft of his cock so that you can carefully lead his tip between your lips and suckle the rest down. “yeah, drink it up,” he pats your head a few times, as a person would an overeager pup. “. . think i lied, guess i’ll keep you around for another adventure or two.”

[min-mingi]

doodling john based on a screenshot my friend sent me and im gonna throw up

[min-mingi]

the one n only

[min-mingi]

i need this man so bad i’m going insane

[min-mingi]

this john I just drew. awooga

[min-mingi]

very good