mondyed

Latest Posts by mondyed

RESIDENT EVIL 4 REMAKE — [ 6/? ]

*calling your colleague voluptuous* *begging him for kisses* *bouncing on it (his lap, while manifesting a goal)* yeah. checks out. just a normal day at the office for them

Wolverine #6 - "Lineage" (2025)

written by Saladin Ahmed art by Martin Coccolo & Bryan Valenza

if I got to the Sinyala, my first goal would be to get a cigarette

Who r u?

This is so gay my heart might just burst

[Toon x Mobster] Gavriel Huffman's somewhere around 113.398 kg (250 lbs) in weight. Jack Desmond is 60.3278 kg (133 lbs).

Those mummy Desmond genes are coming in strong for Jack!

[Toon x Mobster] I felt like rendering these two Toons

referenced art by @liminal-spaced-out Kind of tweaking out over the fact that Jack actually looks like his age (late 30s) in this drawing 😊

It's interesting watching people add their own pizzazz or headcanons on my characters. As for its accuracy, who cares. As long as it's respectful, then it's all for fun anyway.

Otto Soltau - The Centaur Playing With Her Child (1909)

they fucked up his lab partner 4 times

i like when they kiss

rachel this is serious

I've always loved your platonic bkdk art it makes me feel so normal for being aroace 🙏 ur posts fill the platonic ship hole in my heart. thank you for your service. Also thanks for your dabihawks too I may be aroace but he fucked that bird

he fucked that bird man.................................

happy yaoi friday

Lovestruck Stalker final part!

I know it’s hella short but this was made in like January so sue me 😭😭

Pt1

a mutual crush that neither acts on but they will find ways and excuses to brush knees and share a towel etc.

great british twerk off contest in my room tonight!! andrew garfield, tom holland, joseph quinn, robert pattinson, and charlie cox come to claim your first place prize

eula style diluc

can’t stop thinking about 25yo Izuku saying “hod dog 😍😍😍”

Hunch

Leon and Carlos 🙈

ac: umbrella_rpd

Southern but make it cunty

There's just somethin bout him...

beamed that heatstroke guy with my brainworms ray, my condolences, looks terminal

Holiday Blues - Wade Wilson x bunny mutant!Reader x Logan Howlett

A/N: *deep breath in; deep breath out* there are so many things about this fic that I despise. I want to put so many disclaimers about bad writing or sloppy endings or heavy angst. But I said I’d post it if there was interest so here we are. However, THIS IS NOT MY BEST WORK!!! I really just wrote it as a way to channel my anxiety, so if it’s shitty or just bad I won’t be surprised

No taglist for this one

Reader is vaguely implied to be ftm trans during one paragraph of the fic. But it also can be read as a cis male!Reader too

There are a lot of internalized feelings in this, some toxic masculinity, and other uncomfy things. Please read all the warnings and take them seriously before reading

Also, very important. While it’s never directly stated in the fic, I wrote this Reader based off my experiences with RSD (Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria). However, there’s a lot more going on with me than just that, so I do have to say this is only indicative of my experiences, not experiences with this as a whole. Other things may have crept in as well, simply by the nature of basing this off of me

CW: Reader is dating both Logan and Wade; Reader loves the holidays; Reader comes from a family with holiday traditions; Logan comes off as a bit rude, but it’s for reasons I don’t elaborate on; Reader is a bunny mutant; Reader is sensitive to rejection; Reader spirals fast in this; angst; anxiety; panic; hiding; Reader is hit with a lot of emotions all at once; negative thought spirals; internalized emotions; toxic masculinity moments; crying; humiliation; shame; guilt; Reader’s family is mentioned as a guilt trip; comfort seeking; more shame; there’s lots of shame in this one; prey instincts contributing to the negativity; hugging; comfort; problems are not addressed; Reader bounces back fast; Wade gets Reader’s brain; Wade has implied mental health issues as well; soft moments; quick ending; mild allusions to sexy things; god this reads so bad; okay, here are my disclaimers: bad writing, vent writing, fast-paced writing, sudden ending, and highly-charged emotional states from the Reader

1641 words

It’s no secret among your boyfriends that you love the holidays. Any chance you can get you’re constantly hanging up decorations, planning parties, and preparing food,

It’s some of the few times a year you truly come alive when doing something. It’s your time of the year. Holidays have always been your thing.

It’s tradition, from growing up in your burrow. Everyone would help out, making the holidays a time of family fun and chaos and celebration.

So when you come home to Wade decorating your apartment, you immediately want to help. You’ve barely taken off your sweater before you’re bouncing up to him. “What can I do?”

He gives you a grin, gesturing to the kitchen. “Ask Wolvie. He’s been baking all day.”

It both excites and confuses you. You’re not hosting any parties or going to an event today. So what’s going on?

Still, you head into the kitchen. Logan’s working on a pie, carefully making a beautiful lattice of crust on top.

You place a kiss on his cheek. “Can I help?”

“Ask Wade.”

His answer is short. Quick. To the point. Almost brusque even. You know he’s just concentrating, but it still makes you falter. “Um… alright.”

You head back to Wade, but he just gives you a shrug. “Sorry, handsome, but I think we got it.”

You stand there for a moment before nodding and heading into the bedroom.

You sit on the bed, staring at your hands. Normally, you’d just brush off their responses and find something else to do. But it’s the holidays. You’re supposed to be out there helping.

Their rejection of your help hurts more than you care to admit.

But it’s stupid. It’s just decorations and food. They’ve got it all covered.

You try to tell yourself that, but the hurt still wells up in your chest. You can feel it rising, making your breathing quicken. You grip one of your bunny ears, stroking it in an attempt to calm yourself down. It’s what Wade always does.

Maybe you did something to offend them? Or maybe they were trying to surprise you and you ruined it by coming home early?

You try to think of anything and everything as a reason for their dismissals. It has to be something. It has to be.

Anxiety spikes in your chest and you burrow under the covers. It feels comforting, like you’re back in your home warren for a moment. You curl into a ball, tucking your knees to your chest.

You count your breaths, struggling to slow the beat of your heart. But it’s no real use. The wave of emotions is already here. It crashes into you, drowning you in reasons why and what you did wrong. Over and over, your thoughts spiral.

Your eyes prickle, but you refuse to cry. The only thing worse than feeling like this is having Wade and Logan think you’re dumb for it. You’re a man. You can handle it.

You press your palms to your eyes, but the wetness still seeps out. You can handle it. You can handle it. You can handle it.

You don’t sob. Thankfully. You just cry in silence. Stuttered breaths in and out. In and out. It feels humiliating. You, crying while your boyfriends decorate.

You should be better than this. You should be better than this now. What would your family think if they saw you crying instead of celebrating?

That thought only adds to the shame in your chest and you scrunch up even tighter. You’re not some dumb flopsy bunny anymore. You’re a rabbit. A man. Crying is for flopsy bunnies.

The thoughts continue. Eventually, your silent crying turns to soft hiccups. Your tears dry up, leaving your eyes puffy and itchy.

You don’t get up until you hear the timer ringing in the kitchen. Logan’s pie is done. You can smell it. Apple. Your favorite.

Slowly, you uncurl yourself. You crawl out from beneath the blankets. You change into a pair of boxers and one of Wade’s sweaters. Your comfort outfit. You know it’ll be a tell that something’s wrong, but you need the safety of the fabric.

You open the door to the bedroom and shuffle out. No Wade. You hear him in the kitchen.

You take a moment to use the bathroom. To stare dully at your reflection in the mirror and splash water on your face to try and reduce the puffiness. It… sort of works.

Wade’s knock on the door has you startling. “Oh, bunny boy! Dinner’s ready!”

You flinch, curling into yourself a little. They’re gonna know you were crying. They’re gonna know you were upset over something so stupid. They’re gonna think you’re dumb.

You’re shaking as you open the door. You know it’s your prey instincts. Programmed to carry you away, to keep you safe from any harm. But that doesn’t make it feel any better.

Wade blinks at you as you emerge. His whole body seems to soften. “Hey… What’s wrong?”

He’s always so soft with you whenever you’re upset. Occasionally silly, but so soft. Sometimes you love it. Right now it just makes the pit of guilt in your chest bigger.

“Nothing…” you mumble.

He frowns, but pulls you into a hug. It helps. It loosens the ball of shame, slowly soothing it apart. You take a deep breath and hug him back.

“Everything alright?” Logan, from the kitchen doorway.

You think Wade gives him a look, or maybe he just picks up on the clothes you’re wearing. Either way, you’re enfolded in another set of arms.

“Hey, bunny. What’s wrong?” Logan’s often gentle too. It helps you relax the last bit of the way, the knot in your chest finally unraveling.

“Just… my brain…” You’re now more embarrassed than anything. Why would they think you’re dumb? They’ve always been understanding and loving, especially with you.

Wade strokes one of your bunny ears, the action immediately calming your frayed emotions. Bringing back your peace of mind. “Being a bully again, huh?”

You nod.

Logan rubs your back, his touch gentler than normal. “Was it something we said?”

Damn his perceptiveness. You were hoping to get out of this without an explanation.

You sigh and rest your forehead on Wade’s shoulder. “I just… I wanna help too…”

There’s a moment of silence, then Wade hums. “You can wrap the gift I got Wolvie. It was supposed to be a surprise, but it’s the last thing to do.”

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly your entire self perks up at the idea. You grin, already straightening up. “You mean it? I can help?”

Logan chuckles while Wade matches your grin. “Absolutely, handsome! But first…”

He takes your hands and gives them a squeeze. “Let’s eat. You’ll feel much better once you have food in you. The surprise can wait for later.”

Logan agrees and you give in quickly.

Dinner goes by fast and soon you’re in the bedroom again, this time with a box and gift wrap in your hands. You focus on wrapping the present as Wade sits on the bed. Logan’s busy with food clean up, bustling away in the kitchen.

“We'll always love you,” Wade says, startling you from your task. You look up at him. “What?”

“Whatever your brain says while you’re upset. It’s not true.” He looks at you intently. “We love you.”

You swallow and look down. With anyone else, you’d protest. But you know him. You know him. He’s speaking more than just to comfort you right now.

“I love you too,” you say quietly. “Even on your bad days, I love you too.”

His shoulders relax but his gaze stays on you. He doesn’t say anything more though. He just watches you. It’s a little intimidating, but you let him.

You finish wrapping the box and place a nice big bow on the top. “Done.”

Wade smiles. His expression soft once more. It relieves a burden off your shoulders in some way. Some lingering guilt or whatever weighing you down.

You love him. He loves you. He doesn’t have to say it for you to know he gets your mind almost as well as you do. He struggles with his brain too.

You hold out the box to him, a silent acknowledgment of each other in the air. He takes it, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “You’re adorable in my sweater, you know that?”

It pulls a laugh out of you, lightening the air. “Yeah. I know. Why do you think I wear it all the time?”

He smiles. “Careful, buns. You know how your sassiness gets me going.”

You roll your eyes and grin. “Yeah, yeah.”

You eye the wrapped box in his hands, a spark of curiosity in your mind. “What’s in there anyway? And what’re we celebrating in the first place?”

Wade smirks. “We’re celebrating us. And this?” He shakes the box a little. “This is for later. Consider it my gift to you and Wolvie.”

Celebrating us. The idea warms you like nothing else. Nothing else seems to matter except that. They planned a small thing just to celebrate you and them.

You lean in and kiss Wade. “Thank you. For all of it.”

He softens despite himself, his smile turning warm. “Hey, don’t thank me yet. Wolvie still hasn’t opened his gift yet. Thank me then.”

But he seems to understand. For a moment. Before he smacks your ass lightly and points towards the kitchen. “Let’s go, buns. The Readers and Wolvie can’t wait for the ending forever.”

You blink, but don’t question his words. He’ll explain eventually. For now, you’re just ready to enjoy some pie and find out what’s in Wade’s gift.

After all, knowing him, it’s probably something raunchy. And you could do with something a little stronger than cuddles.

nude beach adrien ( deliquent oc ) x ftm reader

ⓘ⠀reader has top surgery , use of cunt & pussy , fingering , public ( on beach )

Tans, seashells, crisp soda and icecream, perfect for a hot sunny day.

It was an idea pitched by one of your friends to hold a class beach day, and as the student president, you agreed and began to plan. The message you sent into the class group chat was bombarded with positive replies the moment you mentioned the word 'beach.' It seemed like alot of your classmates either wanted to escape studying or needed a break to cool off.

A familiar icon popped up underneath your message, Adrien's, but he didn't reply so you just guessed he would skip this event out too.

Stuffed in a car with all your friends, you allocated each friend to bring different things like drinks, food, beach balls and towels. You were in charge of packing the beach umbrellas and foldable chairs.

It was about a 3 hour trip to a beach nearby; one that wouldn't be bombarded with little children and an abundance of people.

When you got there with your friends — a little earlier than the set time — you took the initiative to start helping out with things and putting down your chairs and umbrellas. As you're hauling out the items from the trunk, you could faintly hear the raspy sound of someone calling out.

“Adrien, give me a hand here!” Your head instinctively turns to meet eyes with that stupid deliquent who seems to always show up wherever you are.

He was unusually early, perhaps earlier than you.

Adrien shoots you a toothy smirk before turning back to his buddy, helping the guy lift a cooler filled with sodas and probably beer as well. You shrug him off with a small scoff, rolling your eyes before going back to set up your things

You've successfully put up an umbrella and a deck chair away from the water, letting your body relax on the chair.

You weren't even planning on swimming today but you brought a shirt and some swim shorts just in case you wanted to just dip your feet into the icy water and feel the waves crash against your knees.

Staring out to the shore you watch as your friends run into the water, splashing and kicking sand up st eachother. You would join but, swimming wasn't something you particularly liked, especially the feeling of your wet swimsuit sticking to your skin.

“What are you doing all alone, prez?” His voice comes out smooth and almost tantalizing as a hand slides over your shoulder. You flinch harshly, whipping your head around to see Adrien in his full glory, shirt off, slightly damp hair and crystal clear water droplets gliding down the curves of his muscles.

Before you could say anything, Adrien pulls up another chair and slides it right beside you. The wooden bits of the deck chair clink together and he lowers himself on it with a small sigh of relief.

“The boys are playing like gladiators out there, felt like I was gonna die,” He laughs and you see his chest stutter as he does. He lets his head rest on his hand, elbow jutted out as he turns to face you.

“But really, why aren't you swimming? I'd love to see you shirtless and wet.” You roll your eyes and scoff, shaking your head as you stretch out your legs.

“I just don't feel like it,” You hum nonchalantly which earns a breathless laugh from Adrien. He places a hand on your stomach, inching closer to you. His fingers lightly drum on your stomach, earning that slight hollow sound.

He flicks your shirt up and burrows his hand underneath it, making a slow ascend to your chest, tracing over the raised lines underneath it.

“They're healed enough,” he points out, “Just let me see them.”

Your eyes quickly dart around, making sure that no one is watching. The beach stretches out quite far so the majority of the people were situated towards the middle with you and Adrien being in a more empty area.

You don't fight it, you just look away as he pulls up the shirt to your chin. The cool ocean breeze hits your bare chest, pulling out a view shivers from you. Adrien has seen your scars, multiple times but its always a surprise to see how his eyes soften and how he caresses them so delicately.

“Y'know people won't care if you just swim shirtless, you're a dude it doesn't matter,” He's leaning his head over to kiss your scars in which you push his face away. He laughs and moves his hands back down to rest on your lower stomach.

“You should get out of here before anyone sees you talking with me,” You manage to breathe out, moving your hand to his, attempting to pry them off your exposed skin. Being in such an open area with all your classmates undoubtedly gets you anxious, especially considering how long you've kept your relationship with Adrien a secret.

“Why? People can't handle me spending time with my boyfriend?” It just rolls off his tongue the way he claims you're his — even when you're not.

You're about to retaliate, about to shout whatever insult that comes to mind but you feel his hand move down to cup your crotch. Your body jerks at the touch and you shoot him a glare but he returns it with a sly smile.

“You're not my boyfriend,” you manage to force the words out your throat.

“Yeah but can any guy make you feel like this?” His fingers dig into the fabric of your shorts, pushing pressure onto your cunt. You can't help the curses that flow from your lips and the fact that you're arching your back into his hands.

“They don't know how to treat you right, only I can,” You can hear the jealousy drip off his tone like honey on a stick: thick and sickly sweet.

His fingers are brought back up and now he's pulling at your waistband, dipping his fingers underneath your shorts. His hand just glides over the smooth expanse of your pelvis, dipping down to your sweet, slick sex. Adrien starts by parting your folds with his index and his ring finger, skimming his middle over your fluttering hole.

You're so wet he can hear every movement his finger makes on you.

His thumb finds your clit, pushing the tip of it against that bundle of nerves. He's massaging circles on it, punching out a loud whine from your throat.

“Shit cutie, you're sensitive there?” He laughs, moving his hand lower so he could press his palm against it. Your little mewls and the way you grip onto the side of the chair so tightly makes Adrien want to rip your clothes off and fuck the daylights out of you, but he can't, he'll get caught almost instantly.

His fingers finally meet your hole, pushing in one finger slowly. You gasp, hips rolling up to grind your clit against his palm as he stuffs his finger into you. Adrien laughs again like he's having fun drawing all these reactions out of you.

Your warm, gummy walls hug his finger so snugly he has to slip in another one just to loosen you up a bit. He groans, driving his middle and ring finger into you. Everytime he pulls them back and slams them in your legs tremble and that obscene wet noise rings through his head like the aftermath of a drug.

“You like that prez? Such a good boy f'me aren't you?” Adrien bites his own, chapped lips, repeatedly ramming his fingers into you, watching as you laid your head back and let the moans spill out from your parted lips. The moment he starts curling his fingers up your body tenses and you absent-mindedly grab onto his forearm.

You're seeing stars with the way he's hitting your G-spot every single time he drives his fingers deeper into you.

“Fuck— ah– Adrien,” You cry out, moving your hand down to push down on his, encouraging him to put more pressure on your pussy. He gladly obliges, moving his fingers faster and pushing his palm against your clit with more force than before.

The familiar feeling of a knot wells up in the pit of your stomach and you know you're about to cum.

“C'mon, that's it.” Adrien can tell you're close from the quivering of your knees and the way sweat trickles down your forehead. He kisses the salt away before groaning as he feels his fingers get soaked from your orgasm.

He pumps his fingers slowly, letting you ride out your high before stopping completely.

“Shit, let me eat you out next tim—”

“Stop talking.”

doctors note ; hope i did alright for my first time writing for ftm reader T T

introducing blue collar!simon riley