#regular show mordecai

[captainzigo]

[darodugo]

Breaking show

[jugger-heads]

new fanbase

[hanasnx]

vertigo flowers.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: the header is from @/teefumz on tiktok and instagram. i couldn’t find anything about their rules on reposts used for personal reasons such as this which is why i really stress go check out the original artist on their platforms linked. WARNINGS: human!mordecai | fem reader | unestablished relationship | sexual content | premature ejaculation | praise | handjob.

"That's a cool shirt, by the way."

The compliment draws your gaze down to glance at the graphic on your top, cut-up and worn Fist Pump merch. "Thanks." you respond, voice raised over the natural din of the party. The guy who's been talking you up—said his name is MORDECAI—stands awkwardly tall alongside you, long ringed fingers messing with the rim of his red solo cup. There's an obligation to keep the conversation going, and you're not actually interested, but you ask anyway, "Who do you know here?"

His brows peak in question, and when you sigh with a roll of your eyes he's taken aback by how you don't walk away, instead you lean in. Tentatively, he mirrors you, afraid to make the wrong move as you incline towards his ear, and he lends it to you.

"Who do you know here?" you repeat, and your breath washes over the sheen of sweat on his neck, weighing down the black hair at his nape. It sends a shiver down his spine, and he would've audibly swallowed if not for the loud music. Your body heat radiates onto him, he can feel the sensation of your presence inches away from him, and you're hot—not just in the temperature sense. His jeans hurt.

"Uh," He scans the party until he comes across the unmistakable spotlight of his coworker, shirtless and lassoing said shirt above his head. "Muscle Man." he replies, glancing back at you before realizing how close you are still. His eyes widen and he straightens abruptly, smoothing a hand over his dyed blue hair, and a curl forms to your lips. To avert his eyes, he refocuses on the cocky display of his peer in the center of a circle of partygoers. Muscle Man knows how to entertain a crowd. "D'you know him?"

"Yeah, I'd say so." you reply in a way that pushes Mordecai out of his own mind for a second. Muscle Man also has game.

"Why'd you say it like that? Did you date him or something?" he jokes, scoffing at first. As if Rigby were right next to him, he's expecting some form of banter, momentarily slipping his mind he's in the company of a pretty girl. His lips part, snapping his neck in your direction, anticipating your twisted expression of confusion. Instead, it's the first time your countenance melts into an easy smile, hitting him softly on the arm.

"Shut up, I did not." you tell him, and relief washes over him at his stroke of good luck.

His disbelief at that good luck only grows when later on you lead him to some dark corner of the party by his skinny black tie. Somehow, he'd stumbled his way onto charming you, and he thanks whatever god is smiling down at him for sending him a hot girl that's not afraid to make a move.

"I like your voice." you tell him through heated kisses, using the collar of his white button-up to tug him to you. "Keep talking to me." the command in your sweet voice makes his eyes flutter as he draws his snake bites through his teeth, letting you slot yourself between his neck and shoulder to leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses down.

"What should I say?" he asks, clutching onto your waist to ground himself as your teeth scrape against his pulse point.

"Anything you want." you goad, your nose grazing his sensitive skin. You suck on him, tonguing the reddening spot in your mouth as he goes limp under your touch, head lulling back.

The panic in his chest to get this right urges him to think of something, but his blank mind betrays him. Kneading your flesh in his hands, he presses you to his crotch incidentally, and a deep moan reverberates from low in his throat at the contact. You hum against him, kissing on the tender area you created by your ministrations and he sucks in a breath. "You're hot. You're so hot, I can't believe you're talking to me." he rambles, and he feels you chuckle on him squished this close together. He uses the wall behind you, easing you against it as his hand treads to your hip, dragging your skirt down an inch. The exposed skin against the heel of his palm sets it on fire, and he hopes you can't feel him sweat. Between the heat of this party and bodies melting together, he's still embarrassed. He occupies that nervous energy doing as he's told. "You're way out of my league, no one's gonna believe me when I tell 'em what I'm doing right now."

His pathetic babblings make you grin, and you overlay your hands on his, directing them for him. The strings of your thong lay high over your hipbones, cresting underneath your Fist Pump top. So you show him, curling those long fingers under the strings and his breath hitches in his throat. Standing on your toes, you roll your abdomen to grind on him, demonstrating what you want. Loud guitars grate your ears as you move against him, and his fist forms around the waistline of your panties as if to ground himself again. He's too excited, hard in his pants which you can feel through your clothes, and it encourages you.

A thump sounds next to you, and you glance up at the source. His forehead is stamped against the space next to your head, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration as he humps you. Lips near your ear keep talking to you, "Kinda wanna fuck you right now." A thrill shoots through you, but you let him run his mouth. "I don't care it's a party, I don't care if someone sees. Couldn't care less about finding a bathroom, I wanna fuck you right now."

You bite down onto your lower lip, craning your neck to keep yourself afloat above his shoulder. He's so much taller than you, but you're able to reach down, wedging between your impossibly close bodies to fiddle with his jeans. He retract his pelvis, letting you do it, and when you palm him another one of your favorite noises pours right out of him. Hyper-sensitive and completely pliant, he lets you feel him up, massaging him through his plaid boxers. "Oh, my God." he exhales, raising his arm to bang his fist against the wall. You jump from the noise, and your eyes follow the lean muscle of his bicep and the corded veins and tendons of his forearm.

Unconsciously, you squeeze, and he whimpers, rutting into your hand as you cup him. Fucking himself using your hand as he speaks nothing but incoherent grateful praises, mixed with desperate "Just like that"s. He's swollen as he can be, and he doesn't realize it before he's pushed himself over the edge, full body contractions pass through him as his dick twitches in your grip, painting the inside of his boxers with his cum. A string of curses leave his lips, humiliated that he'd do such a thing, but you give him your number for another chance.

[geodenes]

so late for this one

[silverika326]

Subway Master Rutile Twinssss

Late to the party, I know. I just wanted an excuse to draw submas.

[mushtoons]

gay gay homosexual gay

[spiritual-turg]

ok i drew that fuckin bird that i hate (/ref) so heres these two slackers

[toonsforkicks22]

💙Canon Child💜 w/ proud daddy 💫

Pops would have loved to meet the god-granddaughter named in his honor (it’s Popstar Jolly Good Glow, or just Poppy)

[le-fandom-prince]

gay.

[aeon-arts]

I uh. Was inspired by @thesituation post.

(Cont. on reblog bc of photo limit)

[captainzigo]

my sibling came up with this ship and it makes me happy

[darodugo]

More breaking show

(Breaking Bad x Regular Show)

[jugger-heads]

regular guys

[skelestonkss]

Um hi

[geodenes]

boyloser. boyfailure. dudenobody