#Mutt X Reader

[skeleboiii84]

Heya! I was just wondering if you ever had the time, could you do a (separate) nightmare, Mutt and dust x their s/o who loves to just randomly rubbed or squeeze their hip bones?

Ofc I can darling I apologize for the hold up! 🙇‍♀️

Enjoy~

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If you randomly rubbed up on their hips🔞👀

Nightmare:

Oh oh nah, you betta run

He's not gonna let you get away with such a seductive tug on his hips (which is one his most sensitive spots)

He might jump, watch as his face turns a bright blue as he whips his head around towards you

He's pinning you down over the counter/sofa/table/bed whatever's accessible and you better prepare your body for the fuckin of its life-

Mutt:

He'll definitely lean back into your touch, as like nightmare it's one of his sensitive spots

Man literally has no shame either like you'll be rubbing up and down his hips as he's leaning back and will deadass whine if you stop

Mf will probably whisper dirty shit in your ear like "what?, ya like seein me all bitchy for ya huh?" Smirk and bite your ear

You better pray for your legs cause you just signed up for hours of pound town

Dust:

Dust is a little bit different in the sense he wouldn't be the type to fuck you senseless for it, nah he got other kinks

He'd just stand there and let you grip and pull at his hips and cuddle him from behind

However, he WILL fuck you senseless if you rub his hips and grind on him from behind (oh honey take your chances if you dare because Jesus this mf will leave permanent bruises on your hips)

But most of the time he sees it as a little quirky way you show your affection, he thinks it's adorable when he's doing something and you come up behind him rub his hips and nuzzle into his neck

[undertale-writing-times]

🌷 with Mutt because I love them~ :3

Sure! Here you go. It's been a while since I wrote for Mutt, so this was fun.

Your parents used to be scared. When the big bunch of flowers appeared on the back of your head and never disappeared, but you weren’t. As long as they were there, that meant that your soulmate wasn’t dead! At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. You didn’t want to think about the fact that your soulmate was hurting so badly that the flowers never disappeared. Why would they never disappear? They were supposed to disappear when your soulmate's wound healed! That’s the rule! So did that mean that your soulmate never healed? What did that mean?

As the months passed and the flowers never disappeared, you slowly stopped thinking about them. They were there, and as long as they were there, your soulmate wasn’t dead! That was a good thing, at least. You looked it up and found out that the flowers on the back of your head were orange begonias. They used to mean warnings against greed and avarice, but now they mean gratitude and generosity… what a difference! Am I right?

You met your soulmate when you ‘saved’ them from something. You weren’t really sure if that’s how you would say it, but that’s how they would say it. You see, it was a really stormy and rainy day. Thunder was booming, and lightning was streaking against the sky like the claws of an angry beast trying to claw their way out of the heavens. Rain was falling hard too. The only reason that you were out and about was because it started while you were in the park.

As you were running home with an umbrella above your head, you heard what sounded like whimpering coming from an alleyway. You had to pause, turn your head, and frown. What in the world? You pause, thinking for a few moments, then you sigh and step into the alleyway. You see a monster crouched with their arms above their head, trying to block the rain from falling on them, but each time there was thunder or lightning, you saw them jolt. Their tail was whipping back and forth quickly.

Oh, hey, they were a skeleton monster! You’ve only seen, like… two of them. This was one of the two; normally the skeletons were almost always together, so what was this one doing alone? You bite the inside of your cheek and slowly step closer, standing above them so the rain wouldn’t hit either of you. “Hey,” you started, “are you okay? It’s raining pretty hard.”

Their hoodie was soaked, sticking to them, and it made them look pretty small, even if you were pretty sure that they were pretty tall. They were like… 6’5 or something, right? You had no idea; you just knew that they were tall compared to their brother! It was sort of weird seeing them wearing a collar and leash, but you heard from your friend that it was because Mutt—was that their name?—would often wander away and get lost.

They look up at you and blink, turning their head to the side. They had slight glowing tears in their eye sockets, then they smiled and rubbed their eyes with their sleeve, which was still wet. “It happened out of nowhere…” you bite the inside of your cheek and hold out your hand, saying, “Yeah, I know. Hey, why don’t I help you get home? Is it far from here?”

They shake their head and take your hand, slowly standing up from where they had been crouching. They didn’t stand at their full height, messing with their sleeves, and responded, “Not that far.” After saying that, they started to walk, and you followed after. You had to hold their hand when the thunder kept going, as it freaked them out. You thought that they were pretty cute! Friendly and they made a lot of jokes. They told you that their name was, in fact, Mutt, and you told them that your name was Y/n.

They asked you about the flowers that were on the back of your head, and you told them, “I’m not really sure; I think that my soulmate is having some issues… but I’m glad to know that they’re still alive.” That appears to have piqued their interest, but they simply nodded and moved on. 

It took a bit of time—more than you were expecting—but finally you guys got to where they lived! They knocked on the door, and it opened to show a much smaller skeleton, "Mutt! I've told you so many times not to sneak away. What is wrong with you?" He said and pulled them down to look them over, "you're soaked…" he grumbles, but Mutt's tail starts to wag, and they whisper something to him, which makes him look at you. "You helped my idiot of a sibling?"

"Yeah, I didn't want to just leave them there." You say it with a shrug of your shoulders. You didn't think it was that big of a deal. Yeah, some humans still didn't like monsters, but you didn't mind them too much.

Mutt stands up and goes into the house, then looks at you. "You should join us for dinner?" They suggested, and Lord nodded, "I agree," he added. "I have a feeling my sibling is right about something."

It took some talking, but you finally agreed, and while you guys were eating, Mutt brought up the fact they thought they might be your soulmate… they told you that they had some, uh, accident a while ago and it never really healed… and it was on the back of their skull. 

You helped 'save' your soulmate without even meaning to! You couldn't help but find it a little funny.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Temporary Fix! || skirt chaser!Johnny

Rating: E Words: 4.1K~ CW: smut smut smut, a bit of BAD dirty talking, oral sex (m!receiving), protected piv sex, breath play (if you squint), praise kink (lots of 'that's it' + 1 'good girl'). Tags: afab!reader, fat/chubby!reader, you/your pronouns, one-night stand but more like one-week stand. Summary: Johnny's a dog who can't keep it in his pants. a/n: this is for my chubby gals and also for my @crashtestbunny because I wanted her to be able to read this and not have the previous cheating plot in place.

The thing about soldiers… Is that they tend to have lovers. As in, for as long as they stay deployed in a country, they’re bound to get themselves a toy they can have a shag with. Sometimes it’s prostitutes. Sometimes it’s regular women.

This is a lot more common for enlisted soldiers in the Army. The types that get deployed for 9 to 18 months at a time when they're very young, fighting in a war that keeps them far away from home for so long that they “can’t help” but seek affection from local women.

But that’s not to mean Special Forces soldiers, especially those kept on ‘stand by’, always ready for a quick deployment that, at most, lasts a month or two, don’t do it. They do.

John Alistair MacTavish is a grown man, not one of those young lads of 18, recently out basic, who need a whole to bury their cock in or else they'll die. But you wouldn’t think that, seeing as he's constantly seeking out action on the side.

He goes on and on about how childish those stupid recruits are, about some of his old mates who'd shag anything that walks... Only to then leave base with his team to end up at some bar or club in civvy clothes, find a nice bird or bloke (he’s not picky) and go home with them.

A hypocrite, any normal person would call him, a womanizer, a skirt chaser, a player... He’s not above calling himself that. But sometimes he just needs to decompress! That's his excuse anyway. Decompressing. Letting out pent-up aggression. Orgasms are great stress-relievers...

And as useful as his fist is, he’s not a sixteen-year-old anymore, rubbing one out in his bathroom during a quick shower. That just doesn’t cut it anymore. If he has the option to shag someone, why wouldn’t he?

Now that he’s in the 141, the philandering just gets much worse. Whenever they have downtime on a foreign location somewhere, a night free before they return to England, or a night before they get the go-ahead to go on a mission, what have you… He’s out getting himself a shag.

And, worse of all, he brings Gaz along. 

Gaz doesn’t have the same issue, unlike Johnny, he can actually contain himself. Maybe that makes Gaz a bit bad too, because he knows that Soap has a tendency to chase like they owe him money... And he still enables him. He still goes out with his mate and they both get wasted and laid without a care. 

Maybe Gaz doesn’t think it’s his place to intervene, or maybe he just doesn’t care enough to.

Camaraderie and all.

That’s how they ended up in a club downtown, flashing lights all around them, loud reggaeton playing through the speakers, men and women around them with more skin on display than they had covered rubbing their bodies, sipping drinks, spilling them over each other… Oh, the wonders of a Colombian night club.

They saw you before you saw them. Kyle tapping at Johnny’s shoulder as their eyes perused the space individually, then, he drew the Scot’s eyes to you, standing with your friends, laughing, drinking, softly swaying to the music. 

Soft curves in a copper-colored dress that left little to the imagination, clinging tight to a round ass and a thick belly, the hem constantly pulled down by your hands, as it insisted on rolling up, up, up, exposing more of your smooth thighs than you wanted it to. 

It didn’t stop you from still rolling your hips to the music, however, turning the fixing of your dress a near impossible task, repetitive, useless, and maddening, Sisyphus-and-his-stone.

Turning to each other, the two sergeants hands shot to the middle of their bodies, a quick rock-paper-scissors ensuing… which Johnny won.

And that’s how you ended up turning around to the sight of a foreigner with the broadest shoulders, thickest arms and pecs, and bluest eyes you’ve ever seen… As well as a mohawk, something you didn’t often see on… anyone, really.

He was a soldier, you could tell, even out of uniform. Not your first time seeing one, this being a city with a military base attached, and certainly not your last time being approached by one.

Oh, how soldiers seem to love fat women. You’ve experienced your fair few, many of them assuming your weight would equal desperation for love and affection, which would result in you accepting a rushed wedding for the sole purpose of getting him out of the barracks. 

But you’re not desperate. Other than for a good lay, maybe.

“Erm… Hola.” The soldier in front of you says, blue eyes locked on your face for a surprisingly respectful amount of time considering the sinful cleavage that this dress and your bra give you. 

His Spanish has the thickest accent you’ve ever heard, meaning he’s not American… But his pronunciation is off, so he’s clearly an English speaker. Though he’s not English either, you can tell.

“I speak English. Hi.” You told him, watching as he let out a little sigh of relief. Then, the corner of his mouth popped up in a dirty little smirk. 

“Well, tha’ makes it easier. Hi.” He replied. “I saw ye from over there… Was wonderin’ if I can buy ye a drink?” He offered. Only then did he allow his blue eyes to slither down, down, down, trailing every inch of your exposed skin down to the black ankle booties you’re wearing, thick, square heels to prevent your hamstrings from feeling the pain of stilettos the next morning.

“Why?” You decided to ask him with a cocked brow, forcing his eyes to shoot upward to meet your face again, locking onto yours with a surprised expression.

“Why, what, pretty thing?” He replied, his own brows, thick, straight, rising up to meet his hairline. He’s confused, his eyes blinking a bit. His intentions had been clear as day. Obvious enough for you to pick up on, but you’re playing dumb, or maybe hard to get. 

“Why do you wanna buy me a drink?” You asked him as you dipped your head to the side, your eyes slowly trailing over every inch of his handsome face. Those blue eyes of his are locked on you, pupils slightly dilated, hands hanging off his hips, fingers looped onto the belt loops of his jeans.

“Because you’re proper beautiful.” He replied. Your cocked brow and unimpressed glances up and down, cause him to continue. “And I’d love to take you home, find out what you’ve got on under that dress, and make sure your neighbors hate you from today onward.”

His words are crude, his voice loud and crass, disregarding the public space you’re in, the fact that there are others around, not just your friends, but complete strangers too. Maybe he’s hoping they won’t understand English. But they do. Hell, your girlfriends look at you and exchange coy looks with you, before them, and you, break into a fit of giggles.

He looks at them, noticing they caught what he said, even through the loud music, but then looks at you again. “So? What do you say?” His brogue is getting easier and easier to listen to with every word he says.

Rolling your head to the side, your squint your eyes at him and then shrug. “Do you have to buy me a drink for that?” You challenge him, your eyes snapping back and forth between his own, almost taunting him with your inquiry.

“Not if you don’t want to.” He tells you, eyes lit ablaze and a smirk on his lips.

So, you simply grab him by the arm, bid farewell to your friends, with a wave, and grab your clutch from the table, before dragging him out of the club.

Johnny was expecting a flat, a home, maybe even a university dorm room considering your age. What a surprise it came to him to find you taking him up to a hotel. Not that he’d complain when he noticed the large king-sized bed and the large view, providing a beautiful view of the illuminated city of Cartagena.

His hands were on your broad hips before you even got to closing the door, his mouth clashing onto yours as he pushed you against the wall by the door, calloused hands already sliding over the slinky fabric of your silky dress, tugging it up, so they could slip underneath.

His tongue pushed into your mouth, wet and drooling, saliva traded between your mouths as his strong fingers caught hold of a greedy handful of your ass, digging into the supple flesh and groaning in delight at just the feeling of you at his fingertips.

Your own hands already slid up and around his torso, feeling him up through the fabric of his t-shirt, before sliding down to pull the navy blue fabric out of its tuck into his jeans, rolling it up to expose a strong, bulky body covered in a generous amount of body hair.

Your lips broke apart for a moment, only long enough for you to take off his shirt, tossing it onto an armchair in the corner, and for him to unzip the side-zipper of your dress, taking it off you too.

Then, he grabbed you around the thighs, causing you to shriek, as he bounded for the bed, dropping you so hard onto it you almost swore you’d bounce off. Still wearing his jeans, he slotted himself between your parted thighs, his body bending over yours.

His stubble scratched your neck as he kissed you all over, licking stripes of your skin as his hands pulled off your boots, unfastened your bra… They were surprisingly nimble for such a hulking man. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Johnny cooed as he let his eyes run down your body.

He dragged his mouth down from your neck, across you clavicle, over one of your breasts, and caught your nipple between his teeth, beginning to suck on it, noticing how you hissed a bit, leaning back on your elbows as he did so.

One of his hands caught your other breast, grabbing and carefully kneading it between his fingers, as his eyes shot up to your face, blue irises beneath a pair of dark eyelashes, fluttering slowly as his pupils blew out from how horny he was. His other hand found your black panties and pulled them aside, (more so ripped them with how aggressive he pulled on them), the rough and calloused pads of his fingers catching your lips immediately and beginning to slide up and down, running over your slit.

The moment his cracked fingertips grazed your clit, you whined, your legs spreading apart even more, your body jumping a bit. “Fuck…” You grumbled under your breath, your eyes locked on his face and the way he eagerly played with your nipple. 

“Relax.” Johnny told you once he let go of your nipple. Then, he rolled his tongue around in his mouth, collecting some saliva, before letting it drip onto your slit, his fingers catching it and spreading it quickly as he resumed playing with your clit, hand craning in order to push a finger inside.

“Oh fuck…” You moaned softly, hips bucking up against his hand, following his ministrations as he pushed a second finger inside of you and hooked them up to graze your g-spot, pumping them in and out, the rugged feel of his cracked fingertips drawing a surprisingly pleasant sensation of pleasure from the depths of your soul.

His other hand moved away from your breasts in order to undo his belt, leaving it to hang around his waist as he also undid his jeans, sliding them and his boxer briefs down one-handed, in order to allow his cock to spring free.

Your eyes lock onto it as he continues fingering you, a bit sloppy and rough, his palm pressed to your clit and his fingers constantly drawing a ‘come hither’ motion inside your wet walls.

His cock is stubby, shorter than some of the men you’ve been with, but so thick you can’t help but wonder just how he’ll make it fit inside of you, and how straining the stretch of it will be. It’s heavy too, uncut, hanging down even while already full-mast, too heavy to spring back against his belly button. His balls are heavy too, full, round and strained as he continues to play with you, watching your reactions to his touch.

“You like what you see, huh?” He asks you, noticing the way your eyes don’t slip far from his cock before returning to it, watching it lay against one of your smooth thighs, the ruddy color and constant twitching only bringing more attention it as it rubs against your skin, dripping pre-cum over your stretch marks.

“Mhm…” You reply softly as your hand reaches down to tug at it, carefully wrapping around it and drawing it up and down over his length, only letting go to cup his taut balls and fondle them a few times.

“Tha’s it…” He murmurs and hisses under his breath as he looks you right in the eyes. “Wanna be good f’r me?” He coos at you, and you nod in reply as you bite your lip. “How about you get on your knees and let me see how you suck me off, hm?”

Nodding, you untangle yourself from around him, his fingers slipping out of you, as you took your spot on the floor, the soldier having been caring enough to toss a pillow from the bed onto the floor to cushion your knees.

He sits on the edge of the bed, strong, muscular thighs spread open, as you sunk your mouth onto him, without so much as a second’s worth of hesitation. The stretch as you tried to swallow as much of him as you can tugged at the corners of your mouth, making them feel a bit sore, your jaw already protesting at the size of him. But that doesn’t stop you.

You start lapping at the underside of his cock eagerly, wetting him as much as possible to make sure you could continue taking him down your throat. The sounds he was making were sinful, low groans and grunts, hissing through his teeth, one hand carefully fisting the bed covers.

He carefully gathered your hair away from your face, gripping it one handed. “Tha’s it… Greedy thign you are, wanna take all of my fat cock in your mouth, hm?” He goaded a bit as he looked down at you between his legs.

Any other time, any other place, any other man, you’d already be pulling off him, getting dressed, telling him to fuck off… But something in this soldier’s voice, in his accent, the growl behind his voice, the spark in his eyes… 

Maybe you are just desperate for a good lay with the thickest cock you’ve ever seen… But you don’t complain. You simply nod at him and bobbed your head even more enthusiastically, lips struggling to glide up and down his length, spread open sinfully to accommodate his size.

“Tha’s a good girl…” He praises, his free hand coming to grip you at the back of your neck, tugging you slowly, forward, to make you swallow more of him down into your throat, making you gag and sputter on his length, sloppily drooling around the size of him, saliva drooling down your chin and onto the carpeted floor of your hotel room.

“Pretty fucking thing… Gonna make that make-up run, hm?” He offers as he pulled you off and back onto his cock, moving your head for you. “Show some attention to that pretty pussy of yours, go on.” He demands, causing you to nod.

One of your hands found your wet slit between your legs, sliding two fingers inside, which felt like not nearly enough after having had his own, and considering the fat cock that would soon replace them, but you’d make do. 

“Both hands, don’t be coy now.” He added. Your eyes widen, already anticipating the loss of balance that’d come from the lack of support from your free hand holding you up on the bed. But you do as you’re told, trying your best to keep a perch on your knees as your other hand starts slowly padding at your clit, rolling circles with it.

When you inevitably lose balance, as you knew you would, the soldier simply pulls you forward against him, making you bury your nose against his pelvis, swallowing his cock in its entiry, causing you to choke and gag, trying to catch a breath through your nose. He, in turn, lets out a loud groan of delight, eyes rolling back, as he feels the warm wetness of your throat.

“Keep your hands where they are.” He demands of you, preventing you from trying to pull away and find balance again with your hands on the bed or the floor or his thighs. You can barely do much more than nod against his hip.

He hooks a leg over your shoulder, pinning you close to him, while his hips begin to rock into your mouth, blindly and sloppily, making you gag more and more, more saliva slipping down from your parted lips, making a mess of him and yourself. “Tha’s it… yeah… just what I fuckin’ needed… Such a good girl f’r me…” He grunts as his hand swipes your hair out of your face as it slips from his grip.

“You like this?” He asks you as he abuses your mouth and your throat, while you sputter and try to fruitlessly breathe between each thrust of his into your throat. Nodding pathetically, mouth to full to speak, you whimper against him, making him shiver and shudder. “Of course you do… greedy fuckin’ mouth…”

He only pulls you off him after another couple of minutes, which felt like an eternity, allowing you to catch your breath only for long enough for him to pull you onto the bed, bending you over at the hips, presenting your round ass to him.

“Mmmmm, look at you…” He grunts out as he ruts his cock between your ass cheeks while tugging your head back at the scalp, causing your back to arch ever so slightly, your tits still pressed against the bed covers. “Round fuckin’ arse… Gonna love see it jiggle f’r me…”

He lets go of you again for a moment only to paw at your ass cheeks with one hand, while the other blindly looks for his wallet in his jeans. “Find me a condom, will ye?” He asks as he tosses the leather wallet next to your head, while he steps out of his jeans, underwear and boots, finally.

While looking for the little clip pocket containing them, you spot his military identification very briefly. It makes you realize you didn’t even ask him his name… Nor did he ask for yours. A green and white striped card titled ‘British Army’, with the name ‘John MacTavish’ and some extra info you don’t really pay attention to. John. That’s his name…

Once you pass him one of the silver wrappers, Johnny rips it open and puts on the slick condom quickly, barely waiting a moment before slipping himself inside of you, down to the hilt in one swift motion. You find yourself squirming against the bed covers with a whine, while he groans loudly behind you.

Although the stretch was still wildly bigger than any other man you’ve been with before, it didn’t feel as uncomfortable as you expected it too… probably because you were wetter and more eager than you expected.

He starts rutting inside of you immediately, huffing through clenched teeth as his big hands grip your ass cheeks and keep you spread open. His fingers dig deeply onto your extra fat, squeezing and kneading it, his blue eyes glued to the way your puffy lips part and stretch to swallow him whole. “Beautiful fuckin’ sight…”

“Fuck… Just like that… Don’t stop…” You beg him and whine loudly, fisting the white bed covers and digging your nails into them, your face resting on them sideways, sliding back and forth with each thrust of his.

You’re sure the hotel staff is going to have a field day washing the duvet, your make-up already staining the white fluffy fabric, sliding down with the sweat, and dragging across with each motion of your head.

You can barely speak or think, moaning in turn with him, each thrust of his causing you to croon and whimper in delight, his fat cock hitting you at every possible angle and rubbing every inch of your walls, the veins dragging against your g-spot, the condom barely there.

“Yeah… ye like tha’? Huh? Ye like it?” He coos at you, already slightly out of breath, hips barelling against your plump ass, making it jiggle as he bounces himself off them.

“Oh, fuck yes…!” You whine loudly. His hands slide up to find your hip, pushing you down against the mattress so he can shift more of his weight onto you, pumping at a downward angle, causing you to shriek desperately.

“Oh yeah…” Johnny grunts and starts huffing atop you, leaning all his weight atop of you as he pounds his hips against yours, his breath ragged against your shoulder and hair. “Fuck… Yer cunts feels so fuckin’ good…” He murmurs in your ear, his thick accent becoming.

“Oh, God…” You whimper, shuddering beneath him, feeling the familiar knot tightening in your stomach, each of his strong thrusts rattling every fiber of your being. “John…”

“Oh… tha’s it… Moan my name…” He orders as one of his hands suddenly shoots up and grips you by the back of the neck. “Moan my name…” He insists as he throws his hips down onto yours.

“John!” You call out, doing as you’re told, panting for air as he pushes your face harder into the mattress, slowing his thrusts down and bottoming out inside you each time at a slower pace.

Good thing he did too… Because the knot in your stomach only tightens more and more and more, and then snaps, making you cry out loudly with a choked moan that gets half-caught in your throat as your walls suddenly clamp down around him, tightening the grip on his fat shaft.

“Oh fuck…” Johnny grunts and picks up the pace again, grasp your hip as hard as his hands can, a bruising grip that’ll definitely leave a mark, as he pounds into your weeping cunt again and again and again…

He finally comes, losing his balance and landing on his elbows and forearms on either side of your body, his chest against your back, out of breath, as much as you, even though you feel like you barely did anything other than take him.

“Fuck… I needed that…” He grumbles under his breath as he speaks against your shoulder blade, before leaning up and biting at your earlobe. “That feel good f’r ye?” He whispers in your ear, an earnest question, receiving a little nod from you. “Good…”

Slowly, he pulled himself up, slipping his softening cock from you and rolling the condom off. “So… how long are ye and yer friends stayin’ here?” He asks you nonchalantly while tying off the condom.

“Are you trying to make small talk…?” You ask him, surprised that you can even find a voice or string together a coherent sentence in the aftermath of that. You try your best to drag yourself up and over onto the bed, and once you succeed, you look at him languidly.

“No. I have a reason to ask.” He assures you as he tosses the condom into the paper bin under the desk in the corner, before shuffling back over to you on the bed, lying lazily next to you, an arm behind his head, the other on his stomach.

“Four more days.” You tell him, and he nods at the reveal of information. You roll your head to the side to look at him, both of your bodies sweaty and sticky, your make-up undoubtedly a mess, not that he shows it in the way he looks at you… And even if he did, he’d likely only show pride at making you look like that.

“Well… I’m comin’ to pay ye a visit every night until then.” He tells you, before wrapping his free arm around you, pulling you close. “I plan on gettin’ that tight cunny wrapped around my cock fer as long as I can.”

yes, this is a repost of the original "Temporary Fix." but without the cheating :)

[simonrillleyyysss]

Sweetest🖤

I have an idea for you, hear me out right:

Guarddog!Simon x f!reader (nsfw) :

• Simon is a hybrid, ex-military/rehabilitated illegal fighting. He's just existing now with no home.

• Reader is antisocial, working girl but she wants company and protection.

• She goes to adopt a companion, did not expect taking Simon since he was left isolated for being difficult.

• She gives him independence outright despite what she adopted him for but he stays, she treats him like a being.

• Lowkey they're enemies to lovers because they're both the same, grumpy x grumpy- they take time.

You can develop that dynamic and add in the nsfw, I'm thinking Simon goes crazy knowing he's intine with the readers cycle so when ovulation time hits - fireworks are given.

Feel free to change this however you'd like 🥀

thank u 4 this!! absolutely inlove!!! longest i’ve written in ages >_<

i feel like simon views himself as unloveable, unwanted and ruined goods;how could he not? he’s so easily irritable and snappy, always rude and unnecessarily passive-aggressive, he’d take up so much time in anyone’s schedule—let alone your own, originally, you weren’t signing up to be a free rehab program..you’re not an AA meeting for some mutt..

but, here you were.

he wasn’t ideal, but he would do. it took him centuries to get used to a life like this—free reign of his own path and livelihood, he wants to eat? go to the kitchen, sure. he wants to go for a walk? alright, be back soon. he’s like a baby going to nursery, he is timid but adapts.

clashing? always, he’s constantly starting you for something stupid and irrelevant, winding himself and you up.

“y’didn’t run me a bath today.”

“it’s not your bathtime, idiot.”

“well i want a fuckin’ bath.”

“well i want an actual fuckin’ pet.”

eventually ends up with you pushing(PS; trying to, he’s a rock.) him away from you while you tapped at the keys on the laptop, complaining about how you need to get this finished by tonight, shaking your head.

again, he cannot handle being pampered.

sometimes he’ll come and lay his head on your lap while glancing up at you, seemingly just to unwind and de-stress himself after something happened, and when you go to scratch his scalp? he’s snapping at you instinctively, listening to your yelp—reaching for his muzzle, has to mope around with it on all day. (he might’ve snapped on purpose, but he won’t admit that, will he?)

thing 1 and thing 2, you annoy him and he annoys you back, basically!

when he does eventually warm up to you and things like affection and gentle solidarity, he’ll soak it up.literally. sometimes you’ll just walk over to him, brush your hand over his hair and kiss the scar tracing the side of his scalp, he’ll just melt into you and attempt to follow you around all day, eventually draining your social and praise battery.

he does something nice? you call him a goodboy or goodman and he’s practically crushing you on the sofa that night, head burrowed comically in your chest like a pillow with his bushy tail wagging side to side. absolutely feeds off of your validation most of the time.

sometimes he’ll just walk up to you, lean down and place his head on your shoulder as if it’s a casual thing to do, you eventually begin to let him sleep in your room instead of your own if you’ve had a bad day.

“so annoying..”

“men suck.”

simon said, you sniffled, wiping your tears and engulfing your arms around the beast, listening to his low hums and embracing his gentle pecks to your cheek as if it were kisses from jesus himself. eventually, you begin to see him as more than a simple friend or companion.

it’s clear he feels the same, especially when he finds out you’re on your period and immediately tries to tug off your panties.. clearly, you had different ideas.

“no, simon—you’ll get grossed out.”

“instinct.”

“doesn’t mean you won’t get grossed out, it’s not like dogs.”

you have to coerce him not to mount you then and there, and to bugger off and do his own thing, his own thing is begging the tracking of your period on his phone.

when he finds out you’re ovulating? there’s no stopping this guy.

he’s hurriedly bending you over the kitchen table with his trousers bunched up around his thighs, cock springing free from his boxers.. wastes no time shoving himself inside, forcing the side of your face down onto the wood of the table, heavy balls slapping against the curve of your ass while you cunt enveloped him whole, lewd ‘plap’ sounds echoing throughout the newly cleaned kitchen..

bites down into your shoulder with his sharp canine, listening to your groan of complaint as your blade trickled crimson..your trembling digits rubbing quick circles on your aching clit—back arching into his free hand, which was now pushing you down further into the table, feeling you tighten around him..his tail wagging as he groaned out and spilled his cum inside of you, waiting for a few minutes before pulling himself out.

bedtime? folds you into a mating press, rutting into you like a rabid dog. (he, technically is, that rabid dog.) doesn’t stop till you’re squirting all over his abdomen and pleading for him that you’re already full enough.

“si—oh,i’m practicallymmmhh..practically overflowin’..”

“almost there..gonnafuckyoutillyourcarryin’..chhrriissttt-“

another load to add to your collection.

disappointed when he finds out you’re on birth control, not as disappointed when you find none in the container, just don’t check the bathroom..he didn’t have time to flush them yet.

[nnghhdazai]

dazai’s hands…… and his hand placement

grabbing your face or throat to hold you in place or make you look at him. hands on your waist while he kisses you pulling you against his body. gripping your wrists as he pins you to a wall (or bed)

his hands are huge too, covering most of your face, easily wrapping fully around your throat, or covering the small of your back. he’d hold both wrists with one hand too

[bellasfortuna]

Simon and Johnny who, after a particularly horrendous mission, a harder deployment than usual, decide that maybe they'll have a little fun at a bar in town. The doe-eyed girl who shies away from Johnny's unabashed flirting, leaning back and stammering that she has a boyfriend and points to the meanest looking guy in the bar, which happens to be Simon, hoping to deter Johnny. She doesn't notice the amused glance the two share, the pair deciding that maybe tonight will be a little more than just fun, especially when Simon wraps an arm around her and tugs her into his side, playing the part; a small dark part of him enjoying how she relaxes, thinking the danger that is Johnny is now averted. She doesn't know she's walked, stumbled really, into a much larger danger

[shellxrls]

JJ eats food out of the palm of your hand tbh!! He won’t even pick it up from your hand, he’ll just eat it directly from your palm most of the time !! At first it was weird but now you find it cute and endearing cuz that’s your man and you’re gonna stick by him!!

i feel like jj likes granola/pretzel mixes a lot, but only specific pieces and so he meticulously weeds out all the dried fruits and nuts so he only gets the chocolate and granola.

and one day you take notice and just gesture him to pass the box over, lazily sorting through the mix and separating it for him since you have nothing better to do.

it eventually ends with him resting his head on your shoulder, and you raising your palm up to his face for him to nibble out of while he focuses on the tv.

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Ch 24

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

The moment y’all have been waiting for…

Content Warnings - Very descriptive gore, death, injury, lizard mutts

Your body is full of aches and chills as you trudge your way through the capital sewers. You definitely have a fever but there’s not much the squad can do at this point. They’re determined to get to Snow’s mansion.

Luckily, one of the cameramen knows the underground routes of the capital so the group isn’t at risk of getting lost. Every inch of you protests as you walk deeper underground but with no way to contact the rebels, you’re stuck with your squad for the time being.

The group finally decides to take a break and enters a small room that’s out of the water. You slouch down in the corner away from everyone else. Finnick comes to sit near you but you growl at him.

“Get away from me!” you snap, causing the group to look at you. Finnick sits near you anyways but doesn’t make any move to touch you.

“Are you feeling any better?” he asks. You shake your head no and the movement sends pain up your neck.

“My neck,” you groan. Finnick makes you tilt your head up so he can look.

“It’s spreading,” he sighs. He calls Jackson over to your corner.

“Is there anyway we can get her to medical?” he asks the woman. “It’s up to her neck now.”

“I’m sorry but communications are still down,” she shakes her head.

“I’m getting Katniss,” Finnick tells you. You want to protest but your eyes are really heavy as sleep tugs at you.

“She says it started with the headache,” he tells Katniss as she crouches down to look at the veins on your neck. “It was just on her arm but it’s been spreading. It’s not from a pod.”

“If it was something in the bloodstream it would be spreading faster,” she observes. “I’m thinking whatever it is, it’s not a poison from an external source. I’ve never seen this before.”

“Get away from me!” you sleepily snap at her. She moves and you quickly fall into a fitful sleep.

Tick Tock

Tick Tock

Katnissss

Tick! Tock!

Tick! Tock!

Katnisssssss

You jolt awake to Finnick shaking your shoulder.

“Mutts,” he tells you. “We have to move now!”

Suddenly full of adrenaline, you bolt through the murky depths of the sewers as the hissing gets louder. The veins seem to be spreading faster now, crawling their way up your neck to your jaw. Your squad mates panic at the sight of you but they all have bigger things to worry about right now.

You find yourself crawling through a small hole in the wall behind Finnick. You both stare as Jackson goes to enter the hole but she’s suddenly attacked by the mutts. At the sight of them, the black veins pulse upwards and start to rapidly spread.

“Come on!” Finnick yells at you. He doesn’t want to touch you but he will if it means pulling you to safety.

The two of you quickly catch up to the rest of the group. Katniss and Gale shoot arrows at the mutts, taking them down in clumps. Finnick makes you stay behind him as he spears the monsters with his trident. He had tried to give you a weapon but you refused it as your hands were in too much pain from the substance spreading inside of you.

The group progresses forward but the mutts don’t stop coming. Finally, someone sees a way out. Pollux motions for the group to climb a ladder but your vision is getting hazy and the sound of a clock pounding in your head blocks out everything around you.

Finnick watches in horror as your bright eyes fill with an inky black substance. You let out a low growl before lunging at one of the mutts and ripping its head off with your bare hands.

You quickly make work of the mutts in the room, ripping off limbs and gouging out eyes. Your squad continues to climb the ladder, leaving only you, Finnick, and Gale left at the bottom. You can’t see them though, you can only focus on your deep primal instinct to kill anything that comes at you.

One of the mutts catches you off guard, hitting you in the head. You cough up blackened blood before sinking your fingers into the creature and ripping out its tongue. It’s teeth graze your hand but you can’t feel anything but the urge to kill.

Finnick has to stop Gale from trying to pull you up the ladder.

“Don’t touch her!” Finnick warns. “She’ll kill you. She can’t recognize any of us.”

Gale quickly backs off and proceeds up the ladder. Finnick, though, had a predicament. How was he supposed to get you out of there without touching you? At this point even him being near you may set you off. He can’t just leave you here.

“Katniss!” he calls up, still fighting off mutts with his trident. “Sedative on an arrow. Now!���

Katniss understands exactly what Finnick wants her to do. She dips the tip of an arrow in sedative and shoots it into your shoulder. Not fatal, but hopefully it would knock you out.

The arrow to your shoulder further fueled your rage. You turn towards the ladder and grin, black foam spilling from your lips like a rabid animal. You go to make a leap towards your assailant when a mutt jumps onto your back, dragging you into the water.

The group watching can’t tell who’s blood is in the water, but there’s a lot of it. Scale covered flesh floats to the surface along with black blood. Finnick wants to help but he can’t see where the mutt is and he doesn’t want to stab you.

What feels like an eternity later, you emerge from the water, holding the spinal cord of the lizard mutt, the rest of its body in pieces around you. The remaining mutts recoil at the sight and slowly back away, fearing your presence.

You let out a deep growl, blood spilling from your mouth as the sound reverberates off the walls. At this, the mutts slither back down the tunnels, leaving you and Finnick alone.

As the adrenaline leaves your body, you begin to feel the excruciating pain of your wounds. Finnick is calling your name but everything is fuzzy. The inky substance flows from your eyes and ears as the soft tick of a clock pulls you under.

Ok but the urge to kill Gale was real lol

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[coryosbaby]

Will Graham’s sweet lil bimbo gf def calls him teddy Graham/graham Cracker btw

[trashy-tries-writing]

Hii there's absolutely no pressure but I love your writing and thought: what about Ravine working with the 141 on a mission where drugs are related and they need to find them (or something of that sort, I'm no expert in military stuff) and they bring a k-9 with them that is known for being aggressive and attacking if not treated with utmost precision, only for it to warm up to Ravine and snuggle up to him even tho he's the scary and "mean" one?

Pictures: Cooper with Ravine VS Cooper with anyone else

Dear Anon, I love your magnificent brain for coming up with this scenario!!! And thank you so much!🤗 Also no worries I don’t know anything about the military either :’)) I hope I wrote this how you imagined, do let me know 🙌

Warning: Mentions of drugs, PTSD, amputation, transplant- Probably wrong military name usages and stuff. Maybe OOC?💧

Let me know if you want a part 2 of this, where they chase down the drugs with Cooper 😀

Drug mission with an aggressive K-9 who only turns putty for the "mean” Ravine. The boys are conflicted about who to feel jealous of- Cooper or Ravine, both who usually don't let themselves be touched.

Ravine, who just finished his massacre, was sent to 141’s base once their mission to get intel turned into a drug chase. Along with the confiscated information, they found a hidden stash of high class heroin on the boat, therefore they wanted the soldier to join them.

Laswell had tracked the owner later: Caro Edgar, a well known drug lord that has been long enough on the wanted list. Price decided it was time they get the man behind bars- or dead.

Someone from the DATR (Defence Animal Training Regiment) was delivering their best narcotic detection dog to the squad per Price’s request. Some of the boys were ecstatic to have a little furry friend with them…

Until the dog actually came into the base.

The K-9, Cooper was a menace to deal with.

He bared his fangs at the men in front of him once his cage was open. Gaz, who was excited to greet their four-legged friend, took a sudden step and Cooper was already in his face, mouth ajar to bite his head off, if it weren’t for the chain being pulled back by the dog handler.

Soap flinched back from the sudden hostility and that owned him a bunch of barkings while saliva flew from the K-9’s mouth.

Safe to say, both men backed off and used Ghost as a human shield. Said man glared at the canine, his shoulders tensed. Price on the other hand looked at the soldier with a questioned look, who lent them the aggressive canine.

“I apologize but he is the only one qualified with the mission, the others aren’t ready or already on duty.”

 For the past two days, they tried to get along with the aggressive K-9 but it wasn’t getting any better.

If they moved too fast, he barked.

Breathed wrong? He growled.

Too close and shifting wrong? Cooper jumped them if it weren’t for the chain stopping him. They had to fill his bowl and slide it over from a distance due to Ghost almost losing his hand the first time he tried to fill his plate.

Price was 100% certain that Soap was having nightmares of the dog ripping him to shreds while he slept. Gaz refused to come near the devil spawn and walked along the edge while pressing his back to the wall. His eyes never left the four-legged demon when he passed around it.

Ghost? He and Cooper had a glaring contest every single time the dog started barking and growling like a feral animal when they came across each other.

 On the third day, Ravine finally reached the base and the dog hadn't lessened his bullshit which made the Task Force slowly lose it. Cooper made noises throughout the night when he felt like they didn’t suffer enough trying to take care of him.

The dog trainer admitted that she was a little afraid of the Belgian Malinois herself. The previous owner died on the mission so the dog was passed down to her. Cooper was one of the best K-9 they had so they had to keep him even if he was being hostile to the other dogs. They had to separate him into solo training with a group of supervisors to get the K-9 under control.

They were all currently all out in the open, trying to make Cooper listen to their commands. They couldn’t keep waiting due to the risk of Caro Edgar shipping a whole warehouse of drugs underground.

“Steaming bloody Jesus!”

Soap jumps back, close to losing his footing when Cooper jumps up to meet the man face to face.

“This isn’t going anywhere! We need a new dog damn it!”

Price sighs and opens his mouth to agree but notices the collar ripping from the sideline.

“Get away from him, NOW!!”

*Snap*

Cooper wastes no time to attack, Gaz who he seems to be running to, screams in fear and throws his body to the side. Only to reveal Ravine appearing from behind him, the men panic at the soldier staring at the report in his hands.

“RAVINE DUCK!”

Their hearts skip a beat when the dog comes slamming down onto him from above. Papers flew through the air as Ravine couldn’t even finish registering what Ghost was screaming about until a blur of black and brown came into his sight.

They run towards the fallen soldier, expecting blood to pour from his shoulders or any part Cooper decided to bite into.

But Ravine laid on the ground unharmed with a hand holding the front legs and the other grabbing tightly on the dog’s mouth like a muzzle as he proceeded to get the K-9’s face further away from his.

“That was close. You good mate?” Soap warily inches closer but stops when Cooper starts growling again.

“Aye.”

Ravine sits on the dirt for a moment before casting the dog to the side. As if the squad felt the change in their newcomer, they huddled together on the sideline with the dog trainer holding a brand new collar in her hands.

Cooper shakes his fur, his fangs out, ready to pounce at the threat in front of him. Ravine on the other hand stood calmly on his feet, his height casting a shadow on the dog as it came flying towards him.

“Sit.”

The dog flinches at his voice, hesitates for a split second then prepares to pounce, his jaw open-

“Sit.”

What some humans didn’t know was the highly sensitivity of a dog to pheromones. Cooper feels it, the malice from the stranger standing before him seems to grow and expand to an immeasurable size, all pointed at him and him only. Cooper was lost inside, alone, hunted down like a prey. If he didn’t listen now- he knew he was actually going to perish.

So he sat down, lowering as far as his body allowed.

 Gaz glances between Ravine and the dog in worry. “He doesn’t actually think this is going to work, is it?” His hands feel sweaty as he wiped them down on his clothes, his eyes peeking at Ghost and Soap. “He wasn’t here to see how dangerous it is.”

“I don’t think he’s dumb to believe that.” replies L.T. with crossed arms, the thought of shooting the little menace crossing his mind if the mutt decided to take a bite out of him.

“Sit.”

They suddenly find themselves on the ground before they hear Price cackle loudly on the bench. Soap’s legs felt like jelly when Ravine ordered them- the dog with a tone he hadn’t heard him use before.

Ravine stared at the quartet on the ground and Price on the bench, curious what the Captain found so funny at him getting the dog to lay down. He might never know because they avoided looking into his general direction.

Soap laid on his back, his face in his palms, Gaz pushed his hat down to hide his expression and Ghost was lucky to have his mask on as he grabbed his arms while turning away, the dog trainer pushed her head into her knees that were pulled towards her chest.

And lucky Price, who was already sitting, continued to crack up towards the squad with the occasional whines being let out from Cooper in the background.

Ravine thought the Captain told a joke that made the others react so strongly and didn’t bother questioning it, to their relief. When everyone calmed their hearts, they mentally agreed to never talk about this situation ever again but they knew Price would never let them live this down.

 They decided the little demon was Ravine’s responsibility now.

And at first they were glad to not have to risk their limbs anymore.

Cooper listened to every word Ravine spoke and slowly throughout the day, the dog started to waddle around without having to be leashed although he would still snap at the other’s who weren't Ravine.

What started out as an aggressive attack dog, turned in half a day into a puppy longing for affection and attention.

 On the fourth day, 141 was slowly getting fed up.

At one point they were jealous that Ravine gets to be on the menaces' good side. He gets to ruffle the dogs fur, pet it while they get a face full of teeth and saliva. Along with Cooper sitting on his lap, his thighs making it look really cozy to touch, the K-9 performed tricks and wagged his tail like a love-sick puppy yearning for cuddles from the man.

As if the four-legged demon didn’t plan to give Gaz a nose transplant, a hand amputation for Ghost and PTSD for Soap.

Then they couldn’t approach Ravine without Cooper getting in between them.

They weren’t allowed to be near him and had to stay at least a good few feet away. They couldn’t even hand him things over without the damn dog scaring them, so Cooper could bring the stuff to Ravine like some newspaper.

At the meeting to track down Caro Edgar, Cooper decided to interrupt by going in between his legs and standing up to put his front legs on Ravine’s chest. He wouldn’t stop bouncing until his human put an arm around him, his hand laying on top of his head for scratchies.

Price’s content that Ravine was a help to get the dog under control. They couldn’t risk flunking the mission caused by a misbehaving K-9. He lets his eyes linger on the duo, a smile spreading on his lips when the faceless man doesn't repulse from the physical affection.

He wanted to go back to the report but noticed that no one was really paying attention anymore besides Ravine, who was looking at the documents on the desk.

Gaz is tempted to pull at its tail beneath the desk so the K-9 would stop bothering Ravine so much. He snaps his eyes away from it when Cooper looks directly at him. The menace threw his attention back to the man petting him when the smell of fear slowly radiated off of Gaz.

Beside Ravine sat Soap as he wondered if one day the slouching male would give him a hug too. For a while he stared at the demon disappearing and replaced by a puppy in Ravine’s embrace.

Ghost gawks at the mutt in irritation. He fed him and got his limp nearly bitten off and now the same mutt is squeezing his teammate’s chest like some paw toy. He knows that Cooper was given him side eyes and showing his sharp fangs to mock him. Ravine looks down to check on the K-9 and there it goes acting all innocent.

‘Cunt.’

 On the sixth day, the dog trainer already left while the team wanted to get the mission done and over with, so they could immediately return the K-9 back to her.

Soap’s mind wanders around until he thinks aloud, his eyes following the dog wagging his tail at the tall man trying to train in peace. He grimaces at it for stealing his chance to bond with Ravine all to itself.

“Do you think that brat sleeps in the same bed as him?”

“I’m sure it does-” Gaz sips loudly from his bottle, his eyes glaring down at Cooper when the K-9 gets to snuggle closer to his chest before being pushed to the side, “Look at it! The dog gets to hug him before I even get the chance for Ravine to let me touch his shoulder!”

“I don’t even get a high five from him.”

“Me neither.”

Both turn their heads towards Ghost, silently edging him to answer the question. He sighs under his breath. “Negative.”

They all turn back to watching their friend from afar, occasionally cursing the dog under their breaths when they see how physical Cooper was getting with the man who was known to back away from people who wanted to touch him.

Even Ghost wasn’t that stingy.

Hell breaks loose when Cooper starts to put his paws on the man’s ass.

“ThaT’S IT-”

“Wait Soap, don’t dO THAT-!”

“JOHNNY DON’T-”

Terrified screams could be heard through the base along with a string of curses and a dog’s vicious barking. It ended with Ravine ordering Cooper to back off from his friends with a slight edge to his voice which scared the dog into laying on the ground shamefully.

On the other hand Gaz and Soap grin victoriously and pull faces at the dog behind the safety of the soldier’s back. Ghost silently curses the mutt for acting inappropriately while Price is hiding in the back, recording the whole situation to send to some people.

[pettyprocrastination]

Mutt

Summary: After an ambush, Soap learns to trust the newest member of the 141

Pairing: Johnny Soap Mactavish x Fem!Werewolf!MC (call sign is Mutt)

warnings: vague description of violence and injuries. 

word count: 800

thank you to: @captainsamwlsn @thesadvampire @humanransome-note @joel-mlller and @luxuryberzatto @madhyanas @littleferal and @djarin-junk for helping me with this story and rattle off in your ears about Mutt! I love you all so very very much <3

_______

     “What are you?” 

     It was a valid question given the circumstances. 

     Soap could hardly count himself as conscious at that moment. It was a wave, pulling him back and forth until he was able to force his head to the surface, gasping for air and able to just barely look at his surroundings before he was pulled under again. 

     “Does it matter?” 

     It was dark out. He remembered it being dusk when they set out on their mission, the sun slowly setting in the horizon as Price told them to radio in at any issue and meet at their rendezvous point as soon at possible. 

     Fuck. 

     He broke the surface once more to notice that he wasn’t moving, but swaying side to side. Each step that crunches the ground is not his, but the blood drip, drip, dripping down, leaving a foreboding trail of their journey, is.

     Your shoulder digs into the crevice of his chest with each movement. 

     “Yer carryin’ me, Mutt.” 

     “I am.” 

     You never spoke much. Johnny had equated you to Simon in that way, quiet and foreboding. Your actions spoke where your voice rasped in the shadows. Tucked in the corner booth of a pub when the others went to celebrate a job well done. The loyal guard dog, waiting on its haunches for an order. 

     He was the one who would move to you first. Setting a beer in front of you before sliding into the seat across from you with a tap of his knuckles on the polished table. His knee would bump yours every time. You’d never complain. 

     “Big scary bastards, the both of you.” 

     But then you’d give him a grin, a flash of your crooked canines so fast it was gone when he blinked. 

     “Well it’s a damn good thing you talk enough for all of us then.” 

     Jonathan Mactavish was only a stone’s throw from 215 pounds but you carried him without complaint. The swaying with each step made his head spin and looking up was too much work for him to trust himself not to vomit. He let his eyes drop and stare at the ground, watching you take one step after another in a steady rhythm like an infant listening to their mother’s heartbeat. Through the darkness, he’s able to make out the shadowed shape of your feet in the night.

     “You’ve got no shoes on, Mutt.” 

     “Feels better this way.” 

     He can’t see much. Even if it weren’t for the blood loss and what he’s going to safely assume is a grade two concussion, it’s far too dark out for his surroundings to be seen as anything more than vague shapes and textures he can almost make heads or tails of.

     Your eyes are focused on the trail ahead, already accustomed to the darkness in a way he’d never seen anybody else without night vision goggles or a Mag-light. 

     “Tried to reach Price but the comms are busted. You got your bell rung pretty bad back there but-” You shifted your grip on his body and he felt something sharp press against his ankle, a gentle warning that mouthed at the skin of his Achilles's tendon. “We're only a few miles away from the rendezvous point. Think you can keep it together until we get there?”

     Claws. You had claws. 

     Through the nausea rolling through his body and the lights dancing behind his eyes, Soap could feel the fog begin to clear from his head. A flash of orders rising from his memory like the vision returning after a flash grenade. 

     He remembered seeing you charge through the muzzle flash and smoke like a vision. Uniform stained with the viscera of your enemies so dark he didn’t recognize you at first. The moment you came toward him he was raising his gun until he heard you speak.

     “You know me, Johnny.” 

     But he didn’t. Not really. 

     When he looked at you there was no familiarity or trust. He knew the color of your eyes and the curl of your lips in a snarl but nothing else. Not your name or family nor the reason you joined. 

     In the darkness, moonlight glinted against your eyes and he found himself thinking of the coyotes in Las Almas that watched him and his team from the shadows, pacing with a choir of chattering yips and howls in the darkness, waiting for the proper time to pounce.  

     He’d never admit it but there was a pause, when his hand held the barrel of his gun steady at your head.  Just as long as the width of the shallow breath trapped in his lungs, a split second where his pointer finger twitches, where the voice in his head urges him on. 

     “You never answered my question.”

     He knows nothing of you except that the blood in your mouth was spilled for him. 

     “I’m your teammate. That ought to be enough for you.” 

     It would have to be. 

[skeleboiii84]

LAZY BOI SHENANIGANS

(Featuring Y/N also)

(Stretch walks in from the bedroom)

Stretch: *yawnss* good mor-

Stretch: ...

Stretch: is that my hoodie?

Y/N: bold of you to assume I'd let you move in with me and not snatch your clothes

Y/N: fool

Stretch: touché

Red: yo sans, Y/N the queen just died lol

Y/N: Bitch! The queen is right here

Red: pfft! you wish princess

Sans: ...

Y/N: sans you good?

Sans: ok I mayyyyy or may not have something to do with her death-

Mutt: HA! imagine being an orphan!

Stretch: dude we're literally the same, your an orphan too

Mutt: I'm an orphan!?

Nox: GODDAMMIT STRETCH!!

(Y/N and red chilling)

Mutt: h i w e l c o m e t o c h i l l y s

Y/N: dude what?

Mutt: d o i t f o r t h e v i n e

Y/N: is he ok??

Red: he's having vine Vietnam flashbacks

Mutt: t w o b r o s c h i l l i n g i n a h o t t u b-

Stretch: if I were to kill a child,, is it child abuse or murder?

Y/N: babe wtf-

Red: it'd be a crime dumbass

Y/N: if you could be any animal what would you be?

Sans: what kind of a question is that??

Mutt: I'd be a train because-

Sans: mutt that's not what we're discussing

Red: FUCK!!

Y/N: what's wrong now you drama queen?

Red: nothing!!

Y/N: sure, what's up?

Red: I can't cook the thing you wanted..

Y/N: aaawwweee red that's so adorable

Y/N: and sad it's sadorable

Y/N: do you all know why I called you here?

Mutt: to tell us how much you love uss?

Red: or how handsome we all are??

Sans: or how honest

Stretch: and loving we are?

Y/N: cute,, but one of you assholes ate my candy and I'm gonna figure out who it was-

[undertale-writing-times]

“You’re shivering.  Take my jacket.” with Mutt, please!

Of course! I really liked this, you got to see a bit of their backstory.

Mutt seemed like a really cute and nice character. Something that you knew very well, but another thing that you knew very well is that they had a... strange backstory. Of course you didn't know the whole thing, but you knew a lot.

They used to be different, but an accident caused them to change. They didn't have a lot of magic anymore, and trying to use their magic hurt them and could cause them to dust if they tried it too much.

They've been really working on it! They can't really teleport like they used to. They would just appear in a random place and it would make them almost throw up if they did it too much.

You felt... really bad for them! What happened to cause them to not have their magic anymore? Must be part of the reason why they never take off their hood and seem so protective over it. They say that they feel ugly without it. You tried to get them to take it off before, but they reacted a bit badly.

Panic attack and all, you know how it is.

Mutt has started to work on their magic in a different way too, though! They learned that they're really good at green, healing, magic. It was something that the other monsters teased them about, but you told them that they could heal someone while others could only hurt.

And everyone needs a healer.

Mutt shouted that that day “Everyone needs a healer!” you both were yelling at each other with it, laughing. Lord told you both to shut up.

Today though you two had been hanging out, and it snowed! They said that it reminded them of Frostend, a place in the underground, and asked if they could go out to play in it. Of course you agreed!

You guys hung out in the snow for a while, Mutt even threw some at you. It was really funny to see, to be honest. Lord was outside too but he was snuggled up with a hot chocolate and way too many layers...

It seemed as though he didn't really like the cold.

And now you were heading home... and you were regretting your choices. Remember when I said he wore too many layers? You didn't wear enough. You put on gloves, and a little jacket. You knew that you should have put on more, but Mutt was so excited and kept rushing you!

It wasn't your fault.

So you were rubbing your arms as you two walked together, your teeth were clicking together too... at least you put on a beanie too? It helped a bit. Mutt seems to realize what was happening so they perked up “Y/n!” They start, “You're shivering, take my jacket!” They shrug off their jacket, and put it around your shoulders.

You blink a few times.

Wait what?

Did they... were they really giving you their jacket? Their biggest comfort item? You didn't even ask for it? You look down at it, nuzzling into it slightly. It was so fuzzy... it smelled like soy sauce. You lift your head, looking at them and smile a little. “Thanks Mutt...”

You hum and take off your beanie, reaching up to gently pull it on over their head. “There, now we both have something!”

Mutt looks up at the beanie the best that they could, then giggles, nodding in approval. They wore a long sleeve white shirt under the hoodie, it said 'Glad Dude' for whatever reason? It looked like it was drawn on with a sharpie and the sleeves were covered in little doodles. Different souls in different colors going around the sleeves and it was colored in at a few parts.

They had that bright purple, same magic color as their brother, collar and a leash connected to it. They had some cracks in their skull, one ran down their socket and the other was like a spiderweb. Thin but spread out. You never really knew what happened to them to cause that, and you never wanted to ask them.

“Now we have things from each other” they repeated, and took your hand, starting to run to get back to the house. You yelp, but laugh, and start to run with them. The hood covered your view a little, so you needed to be careful to not trip. At least Mutt was leading you?

“Lord!” they shout. “Y/n gave me their beanie!” you hoped that they knew that this wasn't a trade forever. You weren't going to take their hoodie...

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Met His Match. || Soap MacTavish (Collab)

A collab with @crashtestbunny.

Find us on AO3!

Words: 3.5K~ Pairing: Sex Fiend!Reader x One Night Stand!Soap CW: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, smut smut smut, dubcon elements, unprotected piv, oral sex (f!receiving), public handjob (m!receiving), overstimulation, bathroom sex, sadism, dom/sub, rough sex, sub John "Soap" MacTavish, forced ejaculation, semi-public sex, whining, light exhibitionism, power play, dry orgasm. other tags: you/your pronouns, afab!reader, dating app, hook-up, one night stand, mean reader, exhaustion, walk of shame summary: Johnny gets fucked. a/n: Inspired loosely by my "It's a Match!" fic... but so much fucking worse. P.S. Not beta-read, we die like soap.

Friday night. 6 PM.

You just got home from work and after making yourself a quick meal, you threw yourself on the couch.

Reaching for your phone you click on the Tinder icon on your home screen and immediately begin swiping away at the men that come across your screen.

You're not being too picky. Still a bit picky, but not too much. It doesn't matter that much what they look like... so much as what you feel once you see their picture.

You're not on this app for the romance, after all. No.

You're tired and frustrated from your week and all you want is to fuck a man. In fact, you want to fuck a man so hard he leaves your flat in the morning looking (and feeling) like a cheap whore.

You'll know what kind of man you're in the mood for when you see him.

Left.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Left.

That's when a man with the biggest blue eyes you've ever seen comes across your screen. You stop the mindless swiping immediately and just stare at him.

You can already imagine the way those blue eyes would look up at you from between your thighs, and how much better his face will look when they're glassy and he's covered in sweat and drooling down his chin...

Oh yeah, he's what you're looking for alright.

So, you scroll down to read what his bio has to say.

If that bio is anything to go off of, he's also looking for something casual. After all, he mentions fingering and being ridden in the same paragraph. Perfect.

You Swipe Right on him and your phone immediately buzzes, announcing that you matched. Sweet.

Johnny texts you first. How... cute.

Johnny: hi beautiful x Johnny: how are you doing?

Oh, sweet summer child... what does he think this is? Small talk that'll lead onto a date?

You: doing good. You: how's your night looking?

It takes a minute before his reply comes.

Johnny: very free Johnny: wanna hook up?

There we go, Johnny-boy. That's the spirit.

You: would love that You: do you know that one bar around the corner from the post office? Johnny: of course You: meet there in an hour? Johnny: i'll be there Johnny: i'll be wearing blue

You can't help but chuckle... he won't be wearing much of anything soon enough.

-

Finding him at the bar is extremely easy because the bar is not packed, albeit still pretty busy. But that's not why you picked it. You picked it because it's only a short car ride from your flat.

Johnny is leaning on the bar, as promised, wearing a dark blue t-shirt, dark wash jeans, and a pair of simple black boots.

You approach him from behind, wearing a simple black dress. Not one of those flashy, slinky club types, just a regular dress. You know what you came here to get.

"Hey." You greet him casually and he turns to look at you, his hand wrapped around a lowball glass with some drink inside. It's clear... so either tequilla or vodka.

When he turns you realize three things immediately: 1) He lied about his height. He's definitely not 6ft tall, but 5ft10 at the most; 2) He's built like a brick shithouse, impossibly wide shoulders with large, beefy arms... So he wasn't lying about his 'Athletic' build; and 3) He has a fucking mohawk.

You can already imagine the way he'd look, your legs over his shoulders, as you squeezed his head between your thighs while his tongue lapped at your folds... Fuck, you're horny.

"...nice. What are you drinking? I'll buy." You catch the end of what he said, the beginning probably a greeeting, and a compliment, and, now an offer of a drink.

You try to shrug casually and seem unbothered. You decide to humour him. If he wants to play the gentleman part and pretend this is a date, you can play along.

"Whiskey. Neat." You murmur in reply as you slot yourself next to him against the bar, your thigh brushing against his as he orders and pays for your drink.

"So, a soldier, huh? What's that like?" You muse as you take a sip of your drink, watching him take a sip of his, his throat bobbing as he swallows. Oh, how you'd love to wrap a hand around...

"I like it. Always ken I wanted to be one. Tried to sign early and everythin'. I like keepin' active and I'm good at what I do..."

He continued talking, but you tuned him out, eyes locked on his mouth, watching how his lips pushed and pulled for each word, his white teeth in a neat row behind and his wet tongue sometimes peeking out.

He talked a lot. He talked... too much.

"Let me cut you off right there." You interrupted him, causing him to shut his mouth and stare at you. "Care to have this conversation between my legs, gorgeous?"

Johnny stares at you with impossibly wide eyes, like what you just said is the most bizarre thing he's ever heard. His left brow, right below an obvious scar, twitches, a sign he's interested. "...When?" He asks in a murmur.

"Right now." You reply with a head tilt.

The blue-eyed Scot simply nods eagerly and knocks back the contents of his drink into his mouth.

-

"That's it... That's fucking it-" You croon as you buck your hips into his mouth, your back pressed against the wall, the hem of your dress curled up and tucked into the elastic band of your bra.

Johnny's on his knees on the floor of the cubicle, his tongue lapping at your slick cunt like he's a prisoner on death row and that's his last meal request and he insists on enjoying it.

One of his hands grips your right thigh, squeezing it and keeping it steady, the other alternating between rubbing your clit and going around the back of your hip to squeeze one of your arse cheeks, pulling you deeper into his mouth whenever he licks and sucks your clit.

His blue eyes are locked on yours and they look just as good as you had imagined they would as his moist tongue curls to gather some of your slick and swallow it down, to taste as much of it as he can.

He's such a fucking munch, his tongue parting your folds and diving as deep into your hole as he can get it, before sliding back up to meet your clit, giving it a greedy suck.

There's a smug smirk on his lips, even as they're buried in your cunny, and a chuckle falls from them too while he thrashes his head side to side like a dog playing tug-of-war, nearly blowing raspberries on your clit and causing you to squirm against him, more expletives falling from your mouth.

You know what he's thinking. He thinks he's in charge. He thinks he's doing a good job fucking you. Oh, how wrong he is. And you're about to show him that.

"Wipe that fucking smirk off your face, sweetheart." You demand as you push his hands off your body and grab onto his stupid fucking mohawk with both hands like a handle to grind yourself against his face.

His eyes widen, but the sight of you using his mouth, his tongue, to get yourself off, hips bucking and dragging across his chin and tongue, lips and nose is enough to get him riled up.

He can't help himself, his hands finding a spot on the floor and his own legs spreading apart, allowing him to half-grind his clothed cock against the tile.

His head bobs eagerly against you, his nose buried in your mons, the flat of his tongue rubbing over your clit, his beard prickling against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, crotch and folds.

Your legs are trembling on either side of his head, but you don't stop riding yourself against his tongue, your head falling back against the tiled wall behind you, the pitch of your voice getting higher and higher.

The way the flat of his tongue presses to your clit causes your whole body to shake, your skin warming up more and more to the touch. The coil in your stomach is getting tighter by the second and your breath, as well as your moans, are ragged and long.

Your hips buck and thrash and your head hangs low suddenly as your climax crashes onto you, leaving you breathing fast and deep, your eyes fluttering a bit as you look down to find Johnny kneeling between your thighs, his tongue still softly sliding upward, spreading your folds open and swallowing your come deep into his mouth.

"That's it, drink up, I'm not giving you water anytime soon, sweetheart." You tell him, noticing how his eyes have gone glassy, a wet spot having formed in his dark jeans.

Filthy mutt got off on having you fuck yourself on his tongue...

-

Having pulled Johnny off you and fixed your dress back into place, you called an Uber and then dragged the bulky man out of the bar by the hand, marching ahead of him toward the pavement, under a street lamp, to wait for your ride.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you guided your mouth up Johnny's chin toward his mouth, locking lips with him, your tongue seeking his out.

His beard and mouth are both still soaked with your come, he smells of it, and tastes of it too, and with each push and pull of your tongues as you seek each other out, you get more of a taste of yourself.

You only broke the kiss once the Uber arrived, your phone having pinged with a warning, and a car having pulled to the side of the road not far from the two of you.

You and Johnny piled in together and while he scooted all the way across the backseat toward the other door, you slid up next to him as you two greeted the driver.

You didn't bother with a seatbelt (neither did Johnny) and since the driver didn't seem too keen on chit-chat, you allowed yourself to drape a leg across Johnny's lap, while his arm wrapped around your waist.

Your fingers slid over his thigh toward the darkened patch of denim on his crotch, and, with your leg (and the music playing from the speakers) as cover, you slowly undid the fly and button.

"What are ye-" Johnny murmured as he glanced at you with raised brows and wide eyes, like an innocent little puppy.

"Sh-shh..." You hissed as you kissed his cheek, playing the part of a loving girlfriend, or an overly affectionate date, for your driver's sake, you slowly slid your fingers through the open zipper, fishing for his cock amidst the wet fabric of his boxer briefs.

The pretty boy was already at half-mast again, even after having already come once, and your hand quickly wrapped around it as you began stroking it.

Johnny thighs trembled and his legs kicked out a bit as he felt your warm hand wrap around his sensitive member, and he looked away, out of the window, eyelids fluttering, eyebrows scrunched, and a hard bite on his bottom lip.

His cock began steadily throbbing in your hand, hardening and growing more with each languid stroke of your hand around him. He's thick. Much thicker than you expected him to be. You can feel your fingers struggling to fully wrap around him.

Sliding your palm up, you slowly rub over the hooded tip, which draws a squeak from the back of his throat, his chest heaving, and his stomach being sucked in.

"Control yourself..." You whispered in his ear which, making sure to shoot a glance forward at the Uber driver, who seemed focus on the road.

In response, you received yet another soft groan and a hiss through clenched teeth, Johnny's head lulling toward you, his forehead leaning against your temple. "Feels... fuck... I can't... you're... ah-"

"Feels good?" You murmur in his ear as you kiss his bearded jaw lightly, feeling him buck a bit against your hand, causing your thigh to bounce on his lap.

"Hm... Mhm..." Johnny grunted. "Fuck... Steamin' Jesus..." He whined brokenly as your hand kept stroking his length fully, up and down, at a slow, languid pace.

You'd draw back the foreskin, exposing the bulbous head, before drawing it up again as your hand climbed up to rub against the tip for a moment, only to roll back down once more.

Whenever the car would drive past a street lamp, the yellow-toned light would flutter briefly over Johnny's exposed cock, and draw your attention right to his pink, bulbous tip, overstimulated and angry, leaking shiny beads of pre-cum.

"Sh-Shh..." You cooed at him again, enjoying the broken sounds of pleasure he'd let out through clenched teeth, the way his cock would throb and twitch in your hand, and how the muscular man next to you vibrated with tension.

Oh, how you loved to make men break under your hand, and, even more so, how much you loved to make men like him break. A soldier, a strong man, used to dominating... How silly of him to think he had any power here...

It takes little time for Johnny to suddenly twitch and thrash next to you, his breath picking up and becoming ragged and wet, like he's struggling to control himself into being quiet...

You look up at him just in time, finding the way his head falls back on the headrest of his seat, while he grunted under his breath and hissed through his teeth, again, and again, his eyes fluttering shut as he experienced a dry orgasm, only the tiniest beads of cum slipping down to your fingers right below the head.

Just in time too, because the Uber pulled over less than a minute later, the Uber driver looking back at you and Johnny. "We're here, Miss." He told you politely.

"Thank you, Jared. I'll be sure to leave you a 5-star rating and a good tip." You replied to the driver as you slipped your leg off Johnny's lap and scooted closer to the other door.

After opening the door, you turned again and grabbed Johnny by his shirt collar, your fingers hooking themselves onto the inside of it and grazing his dog tags hanging around his neck.

Smirking, you slip them from the confines of the shirt and then twirl the ball chain around your forefinger like a lead, pulling it taut, which causes Johnny to audibly whine.

"C'mon, Johnny." You ordered as you tugged him forward, causing him to scoot forward, ducking his head to follow you out of the car, his movements languid and slow, his head still cloudy from the recent orgasm.

-

"Fuck, yes! Fuck!" You whine, your head falling back, your hair sticking to your forehead and your nape.

"Steamin' fuckin' Jesus... Fuck..." Johnny groans, his own head rolling back on the mattress of your bed.

"Yes... Yes..." You grunt as you fix your grip on the bottom of his thighs, right before his knees, bouncing your ass off his lap.

Johnny's mouth is hanging open, his hands fisting the bed sheets as he lies on a puddle of his own sweat, every inch of his exposed, hairy torso glistening under the light of your bedside lamp.

You're both exhausted, your hands slippery on his sweaty thighs, your own sometimes shaking as you bounce on him again, and again.

Your pace is starting to become uncoordinated and sloppy because your legs are tired, your knees struggling to keep up and causing you to stutter atop him, driving his cock harder into you and deep against your cervix twice in a row.

It drives a desperate moan out of you both and you go still for a moment, feeling the sweat trickle down your brow.

"Fuck... C'mon..." Johnny whines and grabs you by the hip, attempting to rock his hips up against the cleft of your ass, helping pound into you...

Only for you to bounce up with him and then throw all your weight down onto him, causing his ass to be pinned back down onto the bed, and drawing a loud yowl of surprise as his cock barrels right against your cervix, sending a sting of pain up your spine.

Johnny looks up at you with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, seemingly horrified and confused.

Finding his eyes, you lean forward, pressing your hands onto his chest, before murmuring "Stay fucking still. This isn't about you."

"Sorry?" Johnny murmurs, whether in confusion or genuinely apology, you don't know.

"You're nothing more than a toy right now. And good toys don't talk." You warn him.

"I-" He stuttered, not fast enough to protest before you were moving atop him again, the new angle and slight pause having provided you with an extra burst of energy.

You rocked against him, keeping him buried down to the hilt and rubbing your sensitive clit against the bush at the base of his cock.

It makes you croon in delight, keeping up the same angle but becoming more and more frantic, rubbing yourself against his bush while keeping his shaft sheathed nice and deep in your weeping cunny.

Something about the warm wetness enveloping his already oversensitive cock, the sight of your face contorting in pleasure atop him, so close and yet so far, your hands pushing against his chest so he doesn't try to reach for you.

It drives him over the edge and he finds himself losing it, his big blue eyes fluttering and rolling, his jaw dropping and his every muscle straining as his head falls back, causing him to stiffen beneath you.

Out of breath, you lean your head against his chest, feeling the warmth of your release coming in the aftermath of his own, his cock twitching and throbbing inside you being the final nail in the coffin.

Johnny doesn't dare move as he feels your warm cunt squeeze around him, draining every last drop from his already reduced third orgasm, simply lying there, beneath you.

His mouth is hanging open, drier than the Sahara, every inch of him is slick with sweat and he's out of breath and his entire body is trembling ever so slightly as he closes his eyes in pure bliss.

Only for his eyes to shoot open again as he feels you start up again, your ass carefully bouncing off his sore thighs.

-

Johnny stumbles his way into the training room. It's 6 a.m. and he has not caught a fucking wink of sleep.

Unlike his normal hook-ups, after which he reports to base with a pep in his step and a smirk on his lips that no amount of push-ups, sit-ups and mile runs can wipe off...

This time, he's limping, every muscle of his feeling sore and stiff, his thighs feel like they're going to bruise up, his cock burns from how oversensitive it is...

He hasn't slept, hasn't eaten, hasn't drunk water... and the closest thing to a shower he got was when you tossed him some wet wipes in the morning.

Unlike him, you had gotten up in the morning (aka after a 1.5 hour power nap) perfectly energized and like you hadn't spent half of the night riding him like a stallion you were trying to break...

Gaz is the first to notice Johnny's state as the Scot falls into formation with the rest of the unit, his eyes still sort of glassy. But he doesn't say anything... he simply raises a brow and smirks in amusement.

Ghost is standing by Price on the sidelines and notices next and, unlike Gaz, he chuckles at it and calls Price's attention to it. The Captain turns to look at Soap and has to contain the look of amused disappointment from showing on his face.

"Soap!" The Captain calls out, causing Soap to look over, nearly languidly and then approach, with Gaz following behind him, despite not having been called. He just... wanted in on the fun.

"The fuck happened to you, son? Did you get in a fight?" Price asks with a cocked brow, watching how the younger sergeant squirms and his tanned face grows warmer.

"N-No sir." Johnny replies and shakes his head, which causes him to wince, feeling light-headed.

"I think 'assaulted' would be a better word for it, Cap'n." Gaz chides, causing the Scot to huff and turn his head in frustration and embarrassment.

"Shut it, Garrick..." Soap murmurs, which earns a light chuckle from all the men, Ghost included.

"Go shower and take a nap. You're excused for this morning." Price tells the sergeant, causing the lad to nod thankfully and wander off, limping once more.

As he gets back to his barracks, he grabs his phone, typing out a quick message for you, thankful you insisted on giving him your number and taking his... Johnny secretly hoped that meant you wanted a repeat.

"Hope you're happy... Made me embarrass myself in the state I showed up to training in."

The reply he earned, however, was the most cold-hearted one he could've received... One he never even saw coming.

"I'm sorry, who is this?"

Read Bunny's Work HERE

[nnghhdazai]

thinking about dazai absent-mindedly playing guitar…..

his hand wrapped around the neck of the guitar, fingers swapping between the shape of each chord smoothly, strumming away as he hums to himself. hair falling lazily over his face as his gaze switches between his hands and somewhere off in the distance.

nnhhh

[shellxrls]

i love rafe with my whole heart but JJ eats pussy better. i can just tell

the difference between the both is jj eats pussy like he's starving and is fully able to nut just by having is face in your legs, but rafe eats pussy like he's proving something, asserting some sadomasochistic control over the way he can reduce you to tears and pleas with just his mouth.