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playertwotails · 14 days

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Okay so this has been circling around in my head for like two weeks like a fly hitting windows in a sun-room.

So I'm back on my Tails kitsune AU bullshit and I've also recently gotten into Cult of the Lamb so now they've mashed in my brain into a hodgepodged gloop.

And it's all going below the cut if you wanna read my brain worms cause it's long

***Trigger warning for like blood and cults and kidnapping and drugging. Just to give people a heads up (nothing too graphic or detailed but just in case and let me know if you think I missed anything I might need to warn people about)****

Little side note before jumping into this: do not tag as shipping, there is no shipping here it's all platonic and familial. If I see a ship tag I will block you.

Starting off it doesn't matter if Tails is actually a kitsune or not (I personally prefer that yes he is just for the post situation of the gang all being like "okay so what species is Tails actually???" )

I've just had this idea in my head where some cult somewhere is started and they worship kitsune's as godlike entities. They then catch wind of Tails in the news or rumors and their target is now locked.

So this cults leader gets the 'big brain but head actually empty' idea to kidnap Tails like any sane cult leader would.

Now these people somehow stumble ass backwards into kidnapping Tails and keeping him contained. And by keeping him contained they're basically drugging Tails just enough he's conscious but nonreactive. And they basically dress him up and drag him to their ceremonies as more of object than a kid. Tails is hating it and actually scared cause what the hell is wrong with these people let him go home.

Meanwhile Sonic and the gang are all freaking out cause "WHERE IS HE??!!!!" Cause lets be honest kidnapped by a cult was not on any of their bingo cards and at this point they don't know that's what happened, they only know Tails is gone and none of the usual suspects have him.

Rouge starts going through her contacts on the side looking for any crumb of information and gets a lead. And in typical Rouge fashion splits off on her own to look into it. She then comes across the cult and infiltrates their compound.

During her snooping though she overhears the leader of the cult and his subordinates talking about "living forever through the blood of their god's mortal form", sees a statue of a multi-tailed fox and all the red flags are immediately up for her. Internal panic button is smashed. 2 + 2 = fucked up situation.

She's already pressing the "get your asses here" button on her communicator and tears off as quickly but quietly as she can looking for Tails. When she finds him he's in a locked room just laying in bed, all dressed up in a white outfit. Which strange for her to see him just laying there since normally he'd be out and gone long time ago She sees what they've been giving him next to the bed and she's now double pissed off. (I like to think it's at least been over a week Tails has been missing, but if you wanna get really angsty make about 6 months, just as long as Sonic was locked up in Forces).

As gently but quickly as she can she bundles up Tails and carries him cause at this point he's got so much in his system he can't walk or talk, blinking is kinda his only form of communication at the moment. To which Rouge doesn't know what's worse, for Tails to have been asleep for the whole time unaware or to be awake for the whole time and know what's happening.

Tails on the other hand is just so happy to see her and scared that he starts crying. Which is just breaking Rouge's heart to witness as she starts to backtrack out of there with him, with him just silently crying nonstop in her arms.

Unfortunately only about halfway to the exit they discover Tails is gone and the place starts going into lock down with cultist swarming the halls of the place. And even though Rouge is an excellent fighter, she's in close quarters with a kid who can't walk so she's quickly overrun by cultist who tie her up and take Tails back.

The leader then using all of his one brain cell figures she's already signaled to the other's where they are and he knows it's only a matter of time before the fastest thing on the planet busts their door down looking for his little brother.

The leader announces to the group they're moving up the ceremony to now much to Rouge's horror and they drag her along too kicking and screaming cause they don't have time to drop her off in a cell or anything.

Everyone is now in this big ceremony/chapel room that has a big stone table covered in white flowers, that suspiciously is the perfect size for an 8 year old fox to lay down on. And the leader does just that laying Tails on the table.

Rouge is throwing an absolute fit and cursing everyone out cause no way in hell is she gonna let this happen, it's to the point multiple people are having to hold her down even with her tied up cause she's kicking up such a storm of rage.

Meanwhile, Tails is mentally absolutely freaking out in a panic and is terrified out of his mind, especially when the leader brings out a large ornate knife and starts chanting something.

As the leader is finishing up and reeling back his hand with the knife Sonic busts in and sees all of this. Immediately rushing to the table just as the cult leader goes for the downswing.

Sonic just barely catches the knife about an inch from Tails' chest grabbing on to the blade of it and cutting his hand which drips onto Tails.

Now Sonic finally has a moment to process all of this and what exactly is happening and for obvious reasons he is beyond pissed off. He's probably not far off from turning into dark Sonic or it's creeping around the edges of him. And just as he's about to send the cult leader to meet his maker he glances at Tails' face and that's the only reason he doesn't kill the leader right then and there. Cause Sonic thought Tails was asleep but now he notices not only is Tails somewhat awake but tears are streaming down his face.

So Sonic does the next best thing in this situation, knocks out the leader in less than a second and just pulls Tails into a hug off the table and starts just sobbing with Tails in his lap curled up on the floor. Cause the horror of what about happened and the relief Tails is okay and he found him in time hits Sonic all at once.

The rest of the cultists are still frozen cause for Sonic, Tails and the leader all that happened in less than a minute and the group is still catching their bearings of everything that just happened. Which is a good thing cause in that moment everyone else catches up and runs into this whole scene.

From their perspective though they just see Sonic sobbing over a limp Tails with blood on his chest (from Sonic's hand but they don't know that), a guy knocked out (or possibly dead??) next to them, a big stone table that suspiciously looks like an alter also next to them, Rouge who is still cursing up a storm tied up in the corner and held down by like 5 people, and a room full of people in matching robes that look like the guy up near Sonic and Tails.

The rest of the group now splits off with Amy and Knuckles running over to Sonic and Tails, Shadow going for the leader on the ground, Omega going to help Rouge, and the rest of their friends they had helping them splitting off to take care of the rest of the cultists.

From here everything gets resolved, cultists and leader locked up, Tails getting what ever drugs they were giving him out of his system and going home and everyone somewhat going back to their lives. Sonic however does not leave Tails' side for a while and hovers around him which for the first few weeks Tails appreciates cause if he's honest he doesn't want Sonic to be far from him either after everything and really doesn't want to be alone for long. Tails get constant nightmares about the situation and is snuggling with his big brother almost every night. Which is great for Sonic cause he's also getting terrible nightmares from the ordeal and feels better when he wakes up and Tails is right there.

It does get to the point though where after a bit of recovery and time healing the mental scars Tails has to convince Sonic that he can be go back to running around and exploring without Tails right next to him. It takes a lot of convincing and scheduling regular check-ins (like 5x more than they previously had) but Sonic and Tails slowly get somewhat back to their normal lives.

If you wanna get angsty though have it so Sonic is just a second too slow in saving Tails and the fallout from that. (couldn't be me though I'm a hurt/comfort girly at heart, give me the angst but everyone's okayish in the end)

#miles tails prower #tails the fox #tails kitsune au #kitsune au #enjoy my brain worms #this has been eating away at all my other ideas for a while now #feel free to add on if you like just keep me in the loop #i might post the little comic I'm attempting to draw about that one scene at the altar with Sonic grabbing the knife #that scene is so vivid in my head #I've had bad art block and burnout for like 4 years now since coivd hit and my job got STRESSFUL (call center life sucked)#but I'm slowly trying to knock the rust off my skills #a whole art minor I have not used in a while #my drawing skills are like the Tinman in the Wizard of Oz #someone give me some oil so they move again

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quinn-pop · 8 months

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the sequel to “kirby, i’m poly”

kirby is autistic !! yippee !!!!

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rab-bitly · 9 months

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my baldurs gate character, salix :)

#my art #salix #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate oc #sal aka “too many design elements: the character”#DONT SPOIL ME ABOUT THIS GAME PLEASE PLEASE im like 3 hours in i just have worms in my brain and had to draw them

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gummy-worms-in-my-brain · 6 months

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woohoo it's birthday!! im older now but at what cost today i briefly went outside as a little celebration(and to get away from family), trees were really pretty,.,,

sorry for not posting much or replying to asks sgjdgdfg, my adhd brain cannot focus on anything when i need it to focus, its really productive otherwise but god forbid i try and do something i want to and i kinda feel a little bad about posting stuff but not replying to other stuff,.,,,, adhd be damned

#my brain is messed up it goes like “oh you want to draw something for an ask?? how about you draw like 20 pictures of stupid men instead”#“throw in funny deltarune goat in there too why the hell not. and draw mutual's worm man design thats the top priority” like thanks brain #or things to draw that i had written down since like last month. still havent gotten to doing any of those.. adhd be damned #either way thank you for reading my ramblings and being nice. i genuinely appreciate you all. joining tumblr and this fandom was honestly s #so awesome for my mental health. it means a lot to me to be here and be accepted despite my total lack of experience with writing #sry for getting a bit too real in the tags. it just is a lot to process

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spaghettiandart · 1 year

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NEED to reread worm

#not art #i recall first reading it when i was like 14 and immediately latching onto taylor bc i too was a glasses wearing depressed lonely teenager #i also recall my jaw just dropping at certain scenes #its been too long i forgot too much stuff and too much of my canon knowledge has been mixed with fanon #also i want to draw silly self indulgent crossover comics #.. jesus christ i got into worm when i was FOURTEEN #FOUR YEARS? ITS BEEN FOUR YEARS????#four years since my brain chemistry was permanently altered #i just realized that in my childhood/teenhood i had this trend of latching onto various depressed teen girl protagonists...#valkyrie cain taylor hebert that girl from demon road #how could i forget valkyrie cain i fixated on her for yearssssss until i read worm #omg wait both valkyrie and taylor (spoilers) game ended a baby WHAT #demon road girl didnt kill a baby but she DID commit multiple (?) acts of cannibalism #sorry for the ramble literally nobody is going to read this im just thinking about my book tastes

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ghoul-haunted · 2 years

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a most valid inquiry, so you see in the 8th grade my teacher had us read machiavelli, and it wasn't until the 10th grade that we did shakespeare's julius caesar

#one of these eras got a head start on giving me brain worms in a way that mattered and it wasn't ancient rome #making a whole ass comic about cassius is easier than attempting an extremely clunky translation of a biography #of a man during a very dense part of italian history and yet here i am. attempting that.#there's also the very clunky cassius biography/source book im putting together #however im making a smiliar thing for this ascanio biography because every other paragraph i am learning about New Events #like i knew milan had codes and cryptography because i have a collection of translated dispatches #but there was a whole guy in charge of that kind of thing and im just so. SOOOOOO. screeching #the milan one is harder than the cassius one #im also a human being so sometimes i get a little :| if certain pieces dont do as well as i hope they will #however when it comes to the renaissance stuff i post? literally does not factor into whether or not i'll post it #i have a sanseverino piece that has like. 12 notes on it and i honestly surprised it cracked 5 #which reminds me. i need to draw that comic where he's playing cards with ascanio and it cuts to that one juan-ascanio fight

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jacevelaryonswife · 2 months

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Supermassive Black Hole

A duo project changes some perceptions about your classmate

pairing: Michael Gavey x fem!reader

warnings: smut, period tipical misoginy (2006 guys), loss of virginity, english is not my first language.

word count: 3,297

ewanverse masterlist

When a firm knock came from the door, a name automatically entered your mind.

Gavey.

Michael Gavey.

You imagined that he would come to your meeting eventually, you actually longed to, although you didn't admit it. That idiot deserved to be put in his proper place — which was necessarily below you.

It had all started when a duo project was designated by draw earlier that day, and for both luck and bad luck your partner was the awkward genius, and difficult to deal with Michael Gavey.

There was no shortage of adjectives to be used for the unstable dirty blonde, which was truly fascinating. He intrigued you with his sharp intellect and his eccentric personality to the same extent that he repelled you with his peculiar and almost aggressive way. He was quite a figure, although you didn't allow yourself to think much about it.

It was also not a mystery that he was a true Norman No Mates, which wasn’t difficult to understand since his social skills were disastrous. The memory of him screaming at Oliver Quick in O Week never left your mind, especially the sudden change of attitude when he lowered his head and responded to the sum that Felix's pet (as your friends called him) made. You watched the whole situation closely, with a lot of curiosity, since your tables were close.

After that, whenever he entered an environment, you wondered what he would do next. You never knew what to expect from Gavey.

He started fervent debates during classes, demonstrating unparalleled intelligence and self-confidence, in addition to a slight arrogance that made him look strangely hot. Obviously a dispute of nervous male egos originated from these discussions, which made you watch with veiled fun and irritation while remaining silent. You admired the way his brain worked for math, but you didn't understand how he could be so bad at dealing with other people.

Because of this, you chose to keep a considerable distance from the horizon of events that involved Michael and his complexity, and for a long time this worked perfectly well. Until that damn moment.

Feeling humiliated by the way that insolent worm acted when trying to take responsibility for the whole activity for yourself, as if you were incompetent and incapable, you immediately confronted him about such behavior when he went to your meeting at the end of the class while you collected your material.

"Excuse me?" You asked.

"I'll finish this by Saturday, no need to worry," he repeated condescendingly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Do you think I won't participate? Or did you just choose to pretend that I don't exist?" You asked with your eyebrows furrowed, posture becoming more imposing.

He remained silent for a short moment, seeming to analyze the situation (or the best answer to it, you couldn't tell). He wasn't used to being so reluctant to say what he thought, so it was a surprise to see him using time to devise something.

"I don't like working in group, I thought it would be faster if I did everything," he looked down quickly, running away from your gaze.

"I also don't like working with other people and I didn't even think about excluding you," you replied.

“Of course you don't.” There it was. The veiled arrogance that you so hated, present in most of your classmates.

Few were your STEM classmates, since your class was mostly composed of resentful boys who did not know how to deal with a woman without seeing her as a less intelligent object. Luckily not everyone was like that and you managed to put together a really cool group.

When all you did was send a cold and angry look, Michael cleared his throat and tried to speak again, but you cut him off impatiently. "When you're less asshole look for me again, I think you have my Myspace."

Who did that little shit think it was to treat you like that? 'Of course you don't' He was so fucking pretentious! And that's because he almost couldn't keep eye contact for a long time.

Pathetic.

That skinny nerd tormented your thoughts for the rest of the afternoon and served as gossip between your friends. Predictable. The way he acted was not very different from what you imagined about his annoying self-sufficiency. And even so, there he was, stopping in front of your door (more nerdy than ever) with his laptop and notebook in hand, wearing a blue button striped shirt, black belt and cream pants. He had a terrible taste in clothes, although they totally reflected his personality, he was curious.

“I'd like to apologize for my behavior earlier, it wasn't cool,” he started as soon as you leaned carelessly against the door.

Interesting.

You considered it for a moment, looking at him before turning his back and clearing the way for him to enter your space. "It wasn't that hard, was it?" You pulled a chair for him and threw yourself dramatically on the bed before sitting down to face him, already well established and looking closely at your figure. "So... I assume you've already thought about the structure of the project."

Of course he had thought.

He opened the laptop and exposed his idea while showing some calculations in his notebook, and you made an effort to pay attention to what was said and what was sketched. Obviously his idea was good, great actually, incredibly structured and cohesive with what the professor wanted. But you also had some ideas and would like them to be taken into account, telling you what you had planned. Surprisingly, he showed to consider your suggestions, even praising them — you knew they were good, but not that his ego allowed you to visualize this. You suggested a division of parts that would be meticulously checked in a future meeting.

"As you have already started, I thought about staying with the second part, what do you think?" You asked.

"It's okay, I intend to finish tomorrow maybe, I'll forward some references by email to you."

“Sure.” It was all very bureaucratic and direct. You sneaked up to look at his laptop screen before looking at what he was typing. "I have some of these books here, but I'll look for the others."

And without realizing it, you got into a big problem.

The freshness that radiated from him flooded your senses gradually, looking too long at his neck and jaw...

He had such beautiful features and aquiline dirty blonde hair that it looked so soft. And those hands... those long fingers... no, no, no and no. You (your body) couldn't be heating up to Michael Gavey.

But it's been a while since some fun... and you were at a suggestive time of the month. Maybe... just maybe... It wasn't a bad idea. As you returned to sitting on the bed, specifically next to where his chair was, you analyzed him as he typed the references in the email. He was not bad looking, no, quite the opposite in fact.

He was handsome, really handsome. And you wanted him. You wanted Michael Gavey.

You wanted to fuck him.

Fuck that attitude.

But how? How would you approach that nervous nerd?

Your mind struggled to develop an effective approach. You didn't want to waste time, not with the heat that spread high between your legs. You just waited for him to send the damn email and close the laptop. "Do you want anything to drink?"

“I'm good. I think we ended up here, I'll try to finish my part quickly," he looked at the notebook that was on the pillow, which you anticipated to pick up and deliver it, standing up in a false farewell.

"Sure," and as soon as Michael got up with the notebook and laptop, you held his arms, gently removing the objects while placing them on your study table. "But I don't think you should go now," you used without a more seductive tone while holding his shoulders.

"What are you doing?" He asked still, tense, looking directly into your eyes.

“Are you dating someone?” You asked softly, getting closer, leaning your breasts against his chest.

"No, I'm not," he answered the obvious, but you wanted to hear the obvious with all the lyrics.

Stretching a short distance from his lips, you asked: "So can I kiss you?"

That same look seen earlier was present again, as if his mind worked hard to find a solution to the problem presented. His mouth opened minimally when he took a deep breath, this time his gaze fell on your lips. "Why do you want to kiss me?"

"Because I fucking want it."

And then you collided your lips with his in a demanding kiss that took a long time to be reciprocated, but when it was... oh boy. Michael held your waist and tried to keep up with your rhythm. He wasn’t so experienced, but his lips were soft and pleasant against yours, kissing you with so much enthusiasm that it made you dizzy.

It made you both dizzy.

He couldn't believe was happening — and that it was happening to you. You... gorgeous, sexy and intelligent. You with a nice and phenomenal ass, who he believed would never look at him twice. You, who kissed him on the tongue and moved his hands to your chest and ass and smoothed the back of his neck and massaged his shoulder. He'd never been kissed like that before. Had never touched a girl like that.

What the fuck was going on?

With the deepening of the kiss you felt a hardness to press against your belly, inhibiting a conscious smile while Michael struggled between apologizing or pretending that it was not happening. Fortunately, you didn't intend to let that be ignored. Your hand slid from the nape of his neck until it reached the increasing bulge, gently squeezing over his pants, making him moan against your lips. You squeezed again before breaking the kiss.

"I don’t wanna just kiss tonight."

Fuck. He couldn't believe what was going on.

He felt that he would cum right there if your hand kept rubbing his cock.

"Are you sure?" He asked uncertainty, still not convinced that you really wanted him that way. It was so fucking sudden, one minute he was collecting his things to leave and the next he was kissing you.

"All the certainty in the world, and you?" You sang against his lips.

"I-" that would be fucking embarrassing, you would laugh at him, "I want to but- I never-"

Oh. It wasn’t different from what you expected.

"It's okay, seriously, there's no reason to worry about it."

“... are you fucking me or something?” He asked weakly, looking at your beautiful face with lust, seriousness and insecurity. You've never seen him so vulnerable.

"Of course not, I want you Michael, I want that, but if you feel you're not comfortable we don't n-"

"I want that."

“Are you sure?”

“I'm fucking sure.”

He felt a chain of confidence run through his body and leaned over to kiss you. You wasted no time unbuttoning his shirt, groping his newly exposed soft torso. Michael almost sighed when receiving your soft touch, pulling the blouse out of your body and coming across exposed and already hardened breasts.

Fuck.

He almost moaned. They were the first tits he saw in person, it was more than exciting. He held them immediately, massaging, squeezing, experiencing...

"Not like that," you held his hands gently.

"Sorry, I never-"

“It's okay.”

Your hands landed on the belt and unbuttoned it, continuing to unbutton the pants that were urgently removed by him while you discarded your own and hovered only in panties, watching him get rid of the shoes as well. Michael had little time to get used to your half-naked figure, since with a mischievous smile, you slowly lowered your panties and left it accumulated on the floor. He felt his neck and face burn and cock pulse with your vision, contemplating for too long.

You touched him over his black underwear, feeling him hard and big, making him moan.

"I won't last long if you keep fucking touching me like that," he took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

"So why haven't you taken that off yet?" You shook his head, teasing him, watching him almost tear off his underwear and show off his cock in all splendor. He was packing, bigger than you expected, all pink, beautiful and anxious. “You have such a nice body,” you kissed him lazily, anticipation thrumming through you.

Michael felt himself in the clouds with your body pressed to his without any layer of fabric, but a big wave of anxiety hit him when you walked away to get a condom before gently guiding him to bed. “Relax, let me take control,” no foreplay would be necessary when you were already wet enough to receive it. "Take a deep breath and calm down, it's quite intense, try to be distracted by something else," you adjusted the condom to its length and saw it almost shake. That boy wouldn't last a minute.

He followed your instructions and concentrated as much as possible not to cum fast, holding firmly on your hips but nothing prepared him for your wet and hot folds.

Fuck, not even the best handjobs compare to your tight pussy going down on his cock. He moaned loudly when you rested against his groin, staring at where your bodies connected.

You bit your lips and closed your eyes, feeling deliciously full. He was bigger than average and had a delicious thickness that you would love to squeeze on your walls just to see him have a spasm, but I knew it would be too much for the beginning.

"When you want me to move, just say it."

Oh no, no! He was sure he would end up there even if you moved. "Don't move yet," he replied quickly, "Fuck," he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

It was terribly satisfying to see him all vulnerable and red, without the usual arrogance and weirdness, and even better to have him inside you (albeit for a short time presumably). He thought about all the things he heard about sex all his life in those long seconds, filtering out what seemed more credible and useful. Think of something less sexy. It was fucking hard.

“Move.”

“Enjoy baby,” you slid gently up, resting your hands on his chest as you started an experimental and slow rhythm. “Mmm.”

So damn good.

Your juices made the movements easy and smooth, leaving him breathless whenever he was balls deep. The friction generated by the constancy of the movements made you two moan and the tightness on your waist increased. He was a fucking vision with disheveled hair, half-open mouth and crooked glasses, all docile while he was fucked dumb. The feeling of power over such an intelligent man was as exciting as sex, causing a presumptuous smile on your lips when you leaned over to kiss his milky neck, rubbing your body against his.

“Are you enjoying it?” You purred against his skin, kissing him superficially on the lips.

He was in the fucking clouds. And you knew that. Little shit.

He wrapped your body to move his hips against yours. He couldn't hold it anymore, he needed to cum. "I won't last long."

“It's okay, baby.”

Your tits jumped when you started riding it hard at a terrifying pace. He closed his eyes and felt his balls weigh every time you sat on his cock, holding your waist, your tits, your ass, everything you could while you allowed it.

"Fuck- I'm-" he moaned loudly and released his load on the condom, feeling a mind-blowing pleasure that paralyzed his senses and one pulled into a supermassive black hole. A thin layer of sweat covered his body, illuminating the reddish tone that covered it.

So beautiful.

Coming out of the top, you lay comfortably next to him, supporting a part of your peso on his chest while watching him struggling to stabilize his breathing. He still couldn't believe that it had finally happened, and especially with a girl like you.

“Are you here?” You asked after a while with a fun smile, although warm between his legs. He didn't know if he was, but he replied with a panting 'yes'. "Well, because we're not done yet."

What?

“What?” He asked.

“Sex is a two-way street baby, and I haven't come yet,” you purred softly against his ear, biting the lobe.

"I don't know when I'm going to get hard again," he confessed. Well, his brain was working again.

"You don't have these long fingers for nothing, Michael, and if you want it again you'll fuck me with them."

As much as he was affected by a sudden one, his sharp senses were awakened in the implication of a next time. He faithfully believed that hard work would lead him to maximum success in his life, he could not imagine otherwise in this situation. "How should I do that?"

You purred, taking his right hand and guiding it to your wet center. "Always start here if you want to make a girl cum," you circled your bud with his fingers, enjoying the delicious feeling, showing him the place before going down to your entrance. "Start with one finger, then add another."

He followed your instructions firmly, sticking a long finger and pumping slowly. "Not so slow," you bit your lower lip, somewhat impatiently waiting for the development of a slow orgasm. You needed to cum hard. Taking his hand, you held your middle finger and attached it to your index finger. “Faster.”

And although inexperienced and a little strong sometimes, his fingers felt fucking good on your walls, reaching the sweet point that made your feet's fingers curl. “Keep going, mm.”

"Can I kiss you?"

“Yes.”

Michael collided his lips on yours in a kiss full of tongue and teeth, staying on top while he fucked you with his fingers. He was hypnotized by the sounds you were making, by the warmth of your body, by the taste of your mouth...

“I'm close!”

You couldn't believe that that sleeky nerd of all people was giving you such pleasure.

Michael got up abruptly and used the hand that held his weight to circle your clitoris, making your eyes close with the construction of an abrasive orgasm. He pumped faster, watching your body squirm and your back arch.

“Michael- I'm gonna-" your whole body trembled when the coil burst and a hot pleasure flooded your senses, holding the sheets and closing your legs with the strong spasms.

It was the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his life. And he did that. He made you cum. Michael was still very stunned with everything that happened, watching your figure before being pulled to lie next to you. You rested your head on his chest with a satisfied and tired smile, giving light kisses on his skin, relaxed with the post-orgasm fog.

“Did you like it?” You asked to break the ice.

"You've already asked better questions," he joked with a hoarse laugh, "Of course I fucking liked it."

“Mmm, I like to make sure,” you replied, facing his beautiful blue eyes behind the slightly blurred lenses.

Having your body so close (and with everything that happened) Michael felt his cock contract and a new electric current run through his body. "So there's going to be a next time?"

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taglists

general: @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @kravitzwhore @partypoison00

ewanverse: @aemonds-fire @partypoison00 @schniiipsel @fan-goddess @arcielee

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thank you smm @solisarium for the help with this ❤️

#michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey smut #michael gavey x you #michael gavey x fem!reader #smut #saltburn #ewan mitchell #ewanverse

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 9 days

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Part two to this story

After Jason's cruel display and your identity of Eddie's admirer being public knowledge, you're sure he will be disgusted. He hates you and your friends doesn't he?

Turns out you're in for a big surprise.

Minors shoo! Angst, fluff, sweet Eddie and reader taking no shit.

If you have any requests then send me an ask. My request rules are in my pinned post ❤️

🎀💌

Hellfire Slut. The words had practically burned into your brain as you tossed and turned in bed. Jason's cruelty was nothing new but you didn't think he'd ever go this far.

It was bad enough that Eddie's best friend had caught you in the act of delivering the notes and the thought he could spill all to Eddie, you didn't expect your secret to come out in such a public way.

The notes that you had poured your heart to Eddie had been clear to see by everyone and you felt sick to your stomach. You didn't care that people knew you were smitten with Eddie, it was the fact that he was probably disgusted that you had feelings for him.

You dreaded going to school but you knew you had to face Eddie and Jason at some point. It didn't stop nightmares plaguing your mind all night about what would happen come first period.

...

Homeroom was the first thing today before any other classes, you try not to draw attention to yourself as you slide into a seat at the back of class. However it feels like all eyes are on you today, Chrissy takes the seat beside you and holds your hand giving it a tight squeeze, it makes you feel a tiny bit better.

Mrs Jones isn't in class yet so chatter buzzes around you incessantly, your skin tingles as you feel Eddie's gaze on you a few times, try not to look up into those pretty brown eyes.

One of Jason's friends called Tyler smirks at you, he's sitting beside Jason and says loudly for all to hear. "So little miss perfect likes a freak in the sheets huh? Who would have thought?" there's a little ripple of laughter that's quelled by Chrissy's vicious glare. She's normally a sweetie so swing her pissed shut everyone up.

Ignore him. Just ignore him you chant in your head but he still continues. "You know I was going to ask you out but fuck that. You're a dumb little bitch"

There's a collective silence as you hear Eddie's metal lunchbox drop to the floor. To your surprise he's glaring daggers at Tyler, you also notice that his knuckles are bruised. What the hell happened?

"Oooh you're in luck sweetcheeks, maybe Munson likes you back and the two of you can be freaks together"

You're fraying control over being calm snaps. Screw this. You weren't going to sit and let him run his mouth or let anyone like him or Jason make you cry again.

"You can admit to everyone you're jealous Tyler it's okay. We all heard about the little problem you have, Stacy told us all about how disappointing you are" you fake a sympathetic smile at him and his eyes nearly bug out of his sockets.

Jason looks ready to say something but you don't give the satisfaction of listening to the bullshit he says. "I couldn't be less interested in what you have to say Carver, you're a pathetic, nasty little worm"

While sassing Jason you miss the look of awe on Eddie's face. Gareth snorts at Eddie's stunned look.

"Dude, I really do think I'm in love" Eddie murmurs sounding almost reverent. Gareth sighs. Maybe now Eddie knew it was you that sent the notes the two of you could get together and he could get a minute of peace.

Meanwhile you lean back in your seat relieved as Mrs Jones comes in. There's still a question that's nagging at you though.

"Chrissy, why are Eddie's knuckles bruised?"and that's when Chrissy launches into the tale of how Eddie punched Jason after you left yesterday.

Hearing this makes a small bubble of hope build up inside of you. Maybe just maybe Eddie feeling the same for you might not be as hopeless as you first thought.

...

After a few fruitless attempts Eddie manages to track you down as you're coming out of cheer practice with Chrissy. She gives you an impish, knowing smile as she leaves you and Eddie to talk.

Telling Jason and Tyler what you thought about them made you feel a little bit better for a while, boosted your shattered confidence but now Eddie was around and you could feel that confidence crack.

What was he about to say? Was he going to tell you he was disgusted?

"You don't have to be nervous princess" you feel your nerves dissipate at his soothing tone.

"I know you thought the notes were a joke but they aren't Eddie, I've really fallen for you. I was crushing on you for such a long time. That's why I wrote the notes in the first place, I was worried if I told you in person that you would be disappointed" the words all come out in a rush and you feel relieved getting it all out.

He shakes his head. "I mean I would have been surprised but the way you spoke in the notes...how could you ever think I'd ever be disappointed sweetheart?" His words fill you with hope, a warm and fuzzy feeling in your chest.

"You know because I'm from the dark side" you murmur and he frowns. His hand reaches out to hold yours and you wince at the bruising on his knuckles.

"You didn't need to do that Eddie, I don't want you hurt" he shrugs as if it's no big deal.

"It was worth it. You're worth it"

Eddie gently takes your hand and kisses it, "I fell in love with you through what you said sweetheart, I want to know all about you. I don't give a fuck about who you're friends with or if you're part of the dark side. I just want to be with you".

A slow smile works it's way on your face and you lean forward and kiss him, continue kissing him until you're both a little dazed and smiling goofily at each other.

"Uh maybe we could go out for Milkshakes after school, if you want princess?" you nod feeling the bubble of excitement in your belly.

After all that worrying you were going on your first date with Eddie and you couldn't wait.

Maybe happy endings were possible after all ❤️

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader

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highwayorgantrade · 7 months

Text

Safe House

Pairing: Female Reader! X Soap

Request: Nooo

Summary: Oh no! A bunch of soldiers posted up in your farmhouse bed and breakfast?? Whatever shall you do!! Should you fuck them??

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Overstimulation, begging, volume (keep quiet), unprotected sex, cervix kissing

Author's note: Okay listen y'all I did not plan on doing this whatsoever. I was in the middle of writing a Graves thing when I got this idea and I knew I just had to get that damn little brain worm out before it ruined my life further. This is gonna be a series!!!!!

The mission had gone wrong. Oh, so horribly wrong. 141 thought they were smart by teaming up with Los Vaqueros again to take down a trafficking ring - “Positive international relations,” Price had called it. “We even got imported muscle.” He grinned, referring to the 6’10” man they had called in, after hearing of his ability to do his job and keep his mouth shut.

However, the ring had decided on the same tactic, bringing in a nearby cartel to defend their location. Quickly, way too quickly, the group was overwhelmed, frantically phoning in to Laswell for extraction.

“Don’t worry,” She sighed, after directing the seven men to a relatively safe area, the black-tinted SUV already flying gravel. “I have a friend.”

You had just so happened to be the friend. Well, the relative was more accurate, being her sister-in-law. You knew what she did for work, but you never thought she would call on you for help with it.

“Please, (Y/N), it’ll only be for a few days, I swear. A week, tops.” She called you early one November morning. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” And you knew she wouldn’t. The fact was simple: You had lived relatively nearby, and the bed and breakfast you operated and lived in certainly had the facilities to house eight people, and it so happened to be the off-season.

You were eager to accept, happy to help your sister, and it would be nice to have some muscle with the chores that needed done around the property. When the SUV pulled up, you quickly regretted your decision. You had expected a house full of military boys, tearing around like a pack of dogs, but out stepped six of the most attractive men you have ever seen, all completely different, but equally as handsome and rugged. Two were masked, but Christ, were they big anyway. As they loaded packs out of the van, you stepped into the grass, the cold air causing you to draw your cardigan tighter around yourself. When you approached, you kept a safe distance - partly because you didn’t know them, but also because you were afraid that if you got too close, you’d get lost in the intricacies of their faces.

“Hey!” You spoke finally, the rustling of the dying leaves nearly drowning you out. “I’m (Y/N), I hope the trip out wasn’t too awful!” You internally cringed at yourself for giving them the usual spiel you reserved for guests, but continued anyway. “Come on in, all the rooms are pretty much the same, but you can pick, so… that’s something.”

“Ay, don’t worry lass, better by miles than where we’ve been.” One of them finally spoke, casting a friendly grin your way, and you turned quickly to hide the burning on your cheeks.

You were proud of the way your property looked, hidden well off the road in a small forested area, the whole thing had kind of an eclectic feel to it, but you still felt kind of strange leading them into the common area.

“Okay!” You clasped your hands together, and tried to remember that you were only a housing opportunity - they had more important things to focus on. “Well, uh, I’ll stay out of your way as much as I can, but you might see me flitting about here and there. What’s mine is yours.” Some nodded their thanks, others were making quick work of checking their bags for God knows what, and one, the one in a skull mask, merely stared down at you, his large arms crossed on his chest.

Okay… You took that as your cue to leave, and you quickly stepped out the back door, hoping to make progress on your chores before the sun set.

The frigid air felt nearly unbearable compared to how hot you were burning in their presence - you didn’t even realize that you were slightly sweating. With a sigh, you reminded yourself of your responsibilities. Repaint the gazebo, refill and hang the bird feeders, and fix the greenery so everything is in full bloom by summer. Leaves crunched under your step as the half-painted gazebo came into view. You could hear voices coming from your house, a few with different accents, mostly British, but you could pick out a Scottish, a vaguely German, and a couple Spanish lilts. A booming laugh echoed, and you relaxed your tense shoulders at the sound.

“Don’t make me regret this, Kate.” You mumbled as you settled into the grass and popped open a paint can.

She was pretty. It was the first thing Soap had noticed. It looked like she belonged here, in the woods, with the wind blowing her hair and birds singing in her presence. No doubt she kept them well-fed. He had barely listened when she spoke - he was much too focused on how her sweater wrapped tightly around her body, or how her eyes seemed to physically sparkle with curiosity. She had said something, Soap had no idea, but he responded anyway. Something about the drive? The rooms?

“Ay, don’t worry lass, better by miles than where we’ve been.” He answered, stabbing that it was an appropriate response. The way she averted her eyes and a hint of a smile played at the edges of her lips told him that he was successful. When she turned around to lead them into the safehouse, Price gave him a nudge and shook his head ‘no.’ No fucking Kate’s pretty little sister? Might as well ask him to walk on fucking water, next.

She had promised to make herself scarce, and Soap was silently thankful. He didn’t want this woman caught up in what they were doing, and he didn’t want her to know something that could get her in trouble - Laswell would never forgive them. When she left, Alejandro was the first to speak.

“Nobody talk to me about this mission tonight.” He grumbled, and Soap recognized that as a request long ago, based on the way his jaw was clenched nearly the entire drive to the location, muttering what Soap assumed to be expletives every so often. He trudged up the stairs with his bag, Rudy trailing not far behind.

“Right, then.” Ghost spoke, rolling his shoulders and pulling out a map of the enemy facility and laying it on the wood table, and Soap nearly laughed at how out of place it looked. “If they’ve gotten support from that gang, it eliminates them from support from anyone else, and makes them a target to others, not just us.”

“We need to get to them first.” Konig’s hand landed on the map, gesturing vaguely at an entrance. “This was lightly guarded.” Soap stared at the location, before his eyes flitted out the window to see you approaching a gazebo outside, and he itched to get this out of the way.

“Aye, they might reinforce that entrance since they know it’s weak now. Leaves somewhere else open to vulnerability.” Soap strategized, his eyes lingering on how your hands ran through your hair, and JESUS, how did it still look perfect after that? A light thump on the back of his head pulled him out of his thoughts, and he looked back to see Gaz with a raised eyebrow, the corners of his mouth turning upwards.

“No-go, mate. Red zone. Laswell would have your head on a stick.”

“Might be worth it.” Ghost chimed in, following his gaze to the woman.

Price pointed a warning finger to Ghost, his face stony.

“Ghost, stop instigating. Gaz, leave Soap alone. Konig…” He took a breath, considering the man had nothing to do with their antics. “Good job. Soap, I wish I had control over who a soldier decides to sleep with, but I don’t.”

“That girl in Ibiza left a bad taste in your mouth, Cap?” Soap retorted, recalling one of his more infamous hook-ups, and Price laughed loudly.

“Lesson for the inexperienced,” Ghost turned to Konig. “Remember your date’s name or she will throw a knife at you.” Konig shook his head at this, and slung his bag over his shoulder, ready to call it a day.

“Sounds like my kind of woman.”

Soap had already tuned the ribbing out, and when Ghost packed up the plans, he was already tracing your path, walking out the back door to meet you.

A rustling of leaves caused your head to perk up, and you turned to see the one who had spoken to you earlier, a small smile on his face.

“Need any help?” He tilted his head at the gazebo. “More hands make less work ‘n all.” You looked back at your work, having made minimal progress since you began.

“Oh! Yeah, sure. If you want.” You responded, pulling the paint tray out in front of you so he could take the spare paintbrush. A moment of silence passed before he spoke again.

“I’m Johnny. Most of the guys call me Soap, though.”

Soap? The nickname seemed to come out of nowhere, and you crinkled your nose at this.

“Why do they call you that? You shower more than everyone else or something?” He laughed at this, reaching up to cover the underside of a railing in white paint, and you fought to keep your eyes from lingering on his arms.

“Good at cleaning house, love.” Soap corrected you, your lips pursing at the nickname. “How long have you had this place?”

You shrugged, simply happy that he was making conversation with you.

“Coupl’a years. Since I was twenty. Bought it as a dump and flipped it.” He makes a noise of approval and takes a deep breath.

“Your, uh, boyfriend live here with you, does he?” At this, you can’t help but allow a laugh to tear through you, both in recognition of what Soap was doing, and out of pure shock that he was doing it.

“Not sure where my boyfriend lives, I haven’t met him yet. Let me know if you find him, though, yeah?” Soap shook his head.

“I don’t think I will, but thank you for the offer.”

The back and forth with Soap left your head reeling, and you considered your options as you painted in silence. Kate would kill you if she found out, but she doesn’t need to find out. It has been terribly long since you’ve even been on a date, or even had sex for that matter, and Soap certainly isn’t the worst looking man in the world. He clearly had a great body, and you delved down the rabbit hole of how his arms would look pinning your arms above your head, his battle-worn dog tag trailing cold electricity down your chest.

A flash of yellow light pulled you out of your musings, and a firefly landed on your knee. You took a deep breath and turned to Soap, his attention garnered by your sudden movement of waving the small bug away.

“Do you wanna have a drink tonight? With me?” Your face was comically serious, and Soap let out a soft chuckle as he replaced the lid on the paint, taking the brush from your hand.

“Aye.” He stood, sighing a bit at the noise his knees made, and handed you the paint tray.

“I’ll, uh, go put this up and meet you inside.” You offered him a small smile, and his head tilted at you, trying to hide his own.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Soap had to stop himself from running back into the house. Giddiness coursed through him, and he burst through the door to see Gaz, Ghost, and Konig sat in various places around the living room, the TV tuned in to the local news.

“Get the fuck out.” He stated simply, his eyes wide and a dumb grin on his face.

“Pardon?” Ghost barely spared him a glance, and Konig automatically stood, silently confused as to where he was supposed to go. Gaz merely stared up at him.

“I said,” Soap wrapped his hand around Ghost’s bicep and pulled, forcing the man to stand, and Gaz followed. “Get the fuck out.”

“You sendin’ us to bed, then, eh?”

Soap picked up Ghost’s bag for him, and shoved it into his chest, nearly pushing the men up the stairs.

“I am.” He turned to Gaz, his mouth already open to protest, and pointed a finger in his face. “If you fuck this up for me, I will end you.”

The second the three men shut the door to their respective rooms, you stepped back into the house, locking the backdoor behind you.

I raised an eyebrow at the television, and grinned at Soap.

“Did you turn on the news?” I ask, grabbing two glasses and a bottle of wine from cabinets, pouring us both a fairly full glass.

“Yeah, it’s a new form of foreplay.” He laughed, taking a sip. “Learnin’ that we world is shite.”

“Oh, so foreplay is important to you?” And that question was your first step. He glanced at you from across the kitchen island, and you could just see the gears in his mind turning, figuring out the best way to get himself into your bed. Honestly, he could have asked to bend you dead over the kitchen counter, his large hand pulling your hair as leverage as he thrusted into you from behind.

But your imagination always runs wild.

“Mm. ‘S very important.” You cocked your head at his answer, and he shrugged. “I prefer to have a girl simply beggin’ before I even think of finishing.” He took a step around the island, not quite in front of you, but leaning on the side. You sipped your wine again, trying to cover your reaction to his answer, but there was no wine glass big enough to cover how you pressed your legs together, one hand gripping the counter with slightly more force than necessary.

“How do you do that?” It was an effort to keep your tone even , trying not to show how badly he was affecting you.

“Eh.” He set his wine glass down, finger lightly circling the base of the stem. “Usually have ‘em coming a few times before I get my own.”

Holy fuck. You needed Soap, and you needed him bad.

“Ah, so only good reviews then?” Damnit, why is your voice suddenly higher? You cleared your throat to try to get it to return to normal, and the fucking bastard smirked at you.

“So far. Tell me, love.” That damn nickname again. “When was the last time you were fucked?” You opened your mouth to answer, but it didn’t matter as Soap began talking again. “Ah, lemme revise that. When was the last time you were properly fucked? The last time someone had you cryin’, had you just stupid on their cock?”

You were buzzing, shaking slightly at Soap’s vulgar words. His accent got lower, rougher as he spoke, and you could feel your arousal tying a knot in your throat.He simply stared at you, waiting for your answer with a dumb smile on his face, like he already knew.

“Oh, no, don’t tell me…” He began, in mock sympathy. “Never?” You shook your head at him, not wanting to tell him the truth.

In all reality, you’ve never orgasmed with someone else. It was all only you, and you learned quickly not to say this, as all men would try to be the first. Then you’d end the night by lying, and they would go with their egos inflated.

You both stood, the tension in the kitchen more than you could bear, and just as you were about to dismiss yourself for the night, Soap wrapped a hand around your forearm - Not tightly enough to worry you, but just enough so you looked up at him, your faces inches from each other.

“Love, I don’t like to, uh, think I’m all that, y’know?” He cleared his throat. “But I’d like to try. Show some thanks to our host.”

In one last attempt at quieting down your own perverse thoughts, you set your wine glass down, and looked at the floor.

“Ah, you don’t need to thank me Soap.”

“I absolutely do,” He responded immediately. “I really do need to. Nothin’ better than a pretty face while I work.”

You bite the inside of your lip, considering all the ways this could go bad. Every single one was overrun with the way Soap was searching your eyes, silently pleading for you. With a purse of your lips, you poured the rest of your wine down the sink, and smiled.

“Absolutely.”

You barely got the words out before Soap wrapped his arm around your waist and lifted, slinging you over his shoulder and making his way up the stairs, searching for any room that didn’t look like it was already occupied.

“Mine’s on the other end.” You breathed in an effort not to laugh at his eagerness, and he turned on his heels toward a door that was differently painted than the rest. He placed a hand over your head, protecting you from a bump as he ducked through the doorframe, and less-than-gently set you on your bed, locking the door behind him.

When he turned, you didn’t see the sweet man offering to help you with painting, you saw a soldier. A soldier tuned into your every breath, every movement, and every thought. He kneeled in front of the bed, between your legs, and began planting lighter than air kisses on your ankle, untying your shoes and setting them to the side haphazardly.

“Red means stop.” He whispered against your skin, traveling upward to your knee. “Yellow is slow down, green is good. Repeat it.”

“Red is-“ You were cut off by your own gasp as he delivered a light bite to the inside of your thigh before kissing it again, and you could feel him smile against you. “Red is stop. Yellow is slow. Green is good.”

“And where are we now?” He breathed against the spot right where your thigh met your most sensitive area, and you felt your stomach jump.

“Green. So, so green.” A whimper escaped you, and Soap tsked, like he was about to scold you.

“Stay quiet, lass.” Teased Soap, as he slid your shorts down, along with your underwear, and he whistled lowly. “A Chriosd ann an ifrinn, seall ort, a nighean bhòidheach.” And with that, he licked one long, thick strip up your cunt, dipping down to tease your hole with his tongue. Soap was eating you out like a man starved, and you were obsessed.

Light, breathy moans left you, ever so aware of how quiet everything else was.

“Tell me what feels good, love.” He punctuated his command with a nip to your thigh, pulling your mind out of the pleasure-induced haze. His tongue traveled through your folds, eyes trained on you to see your reaction to his ministrations. Soap’s lips wrap around your clit, fingers toying with your soaking entrance, and it felt like all rational thought had left you. You didn’t care about who exactly was between your legs, nor if his team could hear your desperate mewls.

The pressure inside you was building, and your movement was strange - trying to wriggle away from the incessant barrage against your clit, and trying to grind impossibly closer to Soap’s lips, and by his huff, it was clear he had enough of that. One large arm wrapped around a thigh, his other pressing down on your abdomen, and the only noise Soap could muster was a few low groans as he continued devouring you.

The knot inside you was getting tighter and tighter, and it felt like it was going to snap any second. A split moment of panic ran through you as your back arched off the bed, Begs and cries tumbling out of your lips before you could think of them.

“Soap, please, please.” You cried, hands aching from gripping the sheets. “Please don’t stop, please…” Staying true to your direction, Soap was unrelenting against you, the combination of his sucking, biting, and licking at your clit had dizzy spots appearing in your vision. With one hard push on your abdomen, and a particularly slow drag of his tongue at your entrance, you felt that snap, and you finally understood why it was called the Little Death.

Your mind had gone completely blank, mouth open in a silent scream, and your thighs clamped around either side of Soap’s head, where he still had yet to stop drinking you. It felt like your heart had even stopped beating, until the pounding was heard in your ears. As Soap continued, you felt your body lurch upwards, fingers tangling in Soap’s hair until he finally looked up at you, his hand coming back to slide a finger into you.The sudden intrusion forced a gasp from you, and he gently kissed your thigh, where you noticed the ache that predates a bruise.

“How we doin’, love? We okay?” His voice was impossibly sweet, a complete 180 to how he just made you feel. You nodded, despite feeling like every single sense in your body had been blown out. His finger continued sliding in and out of you, your walls pulsing around him.

“Green.” You confirmed breathily, and he smiled a wolfish grin before adding a second digit into you, his pace quickening. A quick flash of aggravation and desperation coursed through you, and you knew how to get exactly what you wanted.

You looked down at him, eyebrows upturned in a pleading look, and your doe-eyes were working overtime.

“Please, Soap, just fuck me.” You said, voice higher and more gentle than you thought it would come out, and he groaned, rolling his head against your leg. His fingers took on a ‘come here’ motion, and your eyes rolled in the back of your head at the feeling.

“Ah, I know what you want. You want these…” Soap planted a kiss on your thighs, interrupting his own speech. “God, these pretty thighs pinned behind your head, taking me so well, takin’ me so good.” He looked absolutely pussydrunk, his eyes darting between your eyes and his fingers, tsking and offering a slight noise of false sympathy when a tear rolled down your cheek. Your walls pulsed around his fingers, and you could feel that fire building inside of you again. “Christ, love, you wanna come again, huh?” You nodded furiously at his question, one hand coming up to absentmindedly play with your tits. A bright look crossed Soap’s face, and while his hands continued, his mouth met your hands.

His lips wrapped around your nipple, and before you could think, he bit down - the orgasm that crashed through you was stronger than the last, and the muscles in your thighs screamed from being clenched so tightly. You felt his fingers work their way out of your pussy, hissing at the feeling of your walls clenching around nothing.

“You want me to fuck you now, pretty thing?” His face was almost smug as he climbed up on the bed, one hand going to your lower back to effortlessly raise you, and he peppered light kisses on your sweat-covered face. Of course you want him, how could you not? Your body was buzzing with the aftershocks of two orgasms, and here he was, lining himself up with you.

“God, yes, please.” You breathed, hands coming to rest on his back. Soap brought his lips down next to your ear, sending another shock straight to your core.

“Beg better.” He punctuated his command by rubbing his cock through your folds, and you twitched when the head ground against your already sensitive clit. Beg better? Fuck you, Soap.

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you and, hopefully, how serious you looked.

“Fuck me, Soap. Now.”

The simple instruction was all it took for him to push inside you, and it was like it activated something in him - Soap simply could not shut up.

“Ach, mo Dhia, tha thu a 'faireachdainn cho foirfe timcheall orm. So perfect.” He planted a kiss to your temple. “So perfect, my pretty girl.”

You brought your lips up to his neck, kissing the curve where it meets his shoulder, and his babbling only continued as his cock dragged against nearly every nerve, your broken moans echoing through your room. God, his slow pace was nearly agonizing, you wanted more, you needed more. It was like Soap read your mind as he paused, hooking your knees above his shoulders, effectively pinning you into the mattress. He flashed you a wicked grin before he began his jackhammer pace, and this new position had him reaching impossibly deep inside you.

A vague, low ache began in your abdomen every time he bottomed out, his head kissing your cervix every single time. The depth combined with his pace, his groaning and endless praise in your ear - it felt like it was all culminating in a perfect storm, one that was threatening to break down every fibre of your being.

“Fuck, Soap, I’m going to-” You interrupted yourself with a low, hoarse groan, your admission only spurring him on as he replaced his hold on your knees with his hands.

“Look at me, love, I wanna see it, I wanna see you.” His stuttering hips told you he was in the same spot as you, and you both were not going to last much longer. “Come for me, pretty girl.” He growled, and that was all it took for you.

Your legs shook uncontrollably as you released around him, and your ending brought his own on. Curses left him lips as he buried himself inside you, collapsing next to you.

“Ach, come ‘ere.” He breathed, reaching his arm out to hook around your waist and pulling you to him, one leg wrapping around his waist. One hand rested on your jaw, planting kisses on your forehead, cheek, anywhere he could get access to. Your body felt numb, and you knew he stayed true to his word - you were fucked absolutely stupid. You wanted to talk, you wanted to ask where this left you? Would you ignore that this happened? Would it recur? Would he tell his team about it? You wanted to ask, and yet you didn’t - The song of crickets and his heartbeat was a lullaby, and one that you couldn’t fight.

The snare of sleep overtook you as your heart rate evened out, and only one thought was on your mind before you gave up the fight for consciousness:

You really fucking hope you don’t regret this.

#mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #call of duty fanfic #cod x reader

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thegnomelord · 2 months

Note

I had a dream of this and when I woke up I came right here, sorry if it doesn’t make any sense:

Ok so, more hound-reader angst because, why not. Again, hound just got taken by 141 or whoever will give him to 141 and Price sees him (hound) and tries to reason with him, thinking the person he knew is still in there.

But all hound see’s is public enemy number 1 (Price) and he yells “murderer” at him over and over again. We all know that Makarov showed hound C.I.A documents that said he was K.I.A so hound’s number 1 goal right now is to rip Price’s throat out.

But deep, DEEP down, somewhere in hounds sub-conscious a tiny fragment of hound’s old life is still there and all that it wants to do is run over to Price and hug him. But that tiny piece isn’t strong enough to fight against hound and surface to let Price know that he’s still there.

Okay your dreams are baller and making the worms in my brain multiply, but also consider:

A small part of you always wondered what you'd say if you ever met Price again, if you would even say anything to him. But as you sit in a makeshift interrogation room, Price on the other side of the table talking to you like he knows you, like nothing's changed in the last 6 years, you find yourself silent. Thick tar clogs your mouth, your chest aching with every shallow breath you draw.

Price's hands slam on the metal table, drawing your eyes on him, as best you can with one eye swollen shut. "Talk to me damn it!" You can taste his anger on your tongue, though the years have passed he hasn't gotten better at hiding the heart on his sleeve, and the hurt you pick up in his voice gives you satisfaction (you don't pay attention to how your heart twinges at his voice)

"Hound, Lieutenant, Konni group." Is all you say, all you're trained to say under interrogation.

You see his lips twitch, his features mostly blank. It's how you know he's really angry, the type of cold anger he reserves for terrorists. You suppose it's what you are. "I cared about you for fuck's sake." He says, half a plea and half a confirmation of the past.

"Yeah, you cared." You meet his gaze, doing your best to put on a smirk, god, smiling even in this fashion feels abnormal to you. "Just not enough to save me."

#gnome's tea break #gnome correspondence #cod mw2 #male reader #x reader #captain john price #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #good dog fic #Hound-reader

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hdiabolical · 3 months

Note

I don't know your rules so I hope this is ok.

Homelander being bored one day and finding boxes full of your old things that your parents kept and he can't pass up on an opportunity to learn more snoop about you. He finds old teddy bears/ drawings/ pictures. Ya know, the typical nick knacks that a proud parent thinks they might be useful someday. It mads him a bit sad that he missed out on so many 'just being a kid' moments but he is enjoying the glimpses that he finds when he sees you in your little league uniform or you soaking wet with a big grin on your face at some waterpark.

You eventually find him all surrounded by memories and see the glassy look in his eyes, you just can't help but crawl in his lap and comfort him. You talk about some of the stuff you guys find, laughing at some. You tell him you promise to make as many happy memories for Ryan and by extension him in the future.

Again, sorry if this is not what you were looking for. Please ignore this or DM me if you want something specific. My brain worms are always a wigglin'.

You finally agreed to move in with Homelander a few months ago. More of a formality, since you already lived in his penthouse most of the time. Yet your parents were so delighted—it was funny, actually, how enchanted they were with him. Their baby girl with America's hero! And he was a charmer too!

Though you lacked for nothing in his house, your parents kept sending housewarming gifts; just trinkets, silly things. Two pairs of white slippers with red stars in them—that one had warranted a full-blown laugh from both of you.

A blue blanket your father had knitted—that one left Homelander at a loss of words. He stared at it for a moment, then silently put it in the bed.

And the boxes! Four boxes filled with knick-knacks; mementos from your childhood and teenage years you were unsure if it'd make Homelander uncomfortable, so… It's not like you hid them (as if you could hide anything from him, anyway), more put them in the very back of your closet and chose not to speak much of it, only mentioned in passing.

“My parents sent even more stuff! Can you believe it?”

The next day, as you left for work, Homelander decided to snoop. It wasn't even snooping, really. You lived with him, you shared it all. And, c’mon, you were an open book. He could read you in a second, knew each flicker of your eyes, every change of breath, the way you scrunched up your nose unconsciously.

He opened every box, sitting on the floor, surrounded by glimpses of your childhood. A picture of you, in your little league uniform, all smiley and proud. A kind of an ugly drawing of what he supposed was meant to be you and your parents. An enormous, threadbare shark plushie you once said was your favorite thing when you were seven.

It was all so mundane—yet his eyes prickled. This was something he'd never be able to share with you.

So lost in his thoughts, he almost didn't notice you'd already come back, and was walking toward the bedroom.

“Hey, you,” you whispered softly. Your chest contracted painfully when you noticed his glassy eyes. It was an effort not to cry too.

“Hey, babe.” He laughed, but it felt hollow. “Juuuust checking some things you tried hiding from me, missy.” He wiggled his finger in your direction in faux annoyance, but you saw it for what it was.

“Baby…” You crawled towards him, sitting in his lap, touching his cheek. “I didn't want to hide it, I just didn't want to upset you.”

“Why would I be upset?” He snorted, now holding a picture of you when you were thirteen.

You groaned.

“Please laser this right now.”

“Why? You look so… cute.” You tried to snatch it from him, but he wouldn't let it. “Awnnn, look at those buck teeth. You look like a rabbit.” He snickered.

“You mean, mean man!” But you giggled too.

As you found more pictures and drawings, and even one Homelander plushie—that he'd never let you live it down—the mood slowly lightened, and you both laughed as you told him all your embarrassing childhood stories. You knew your parents would tell him all anyway.

After a while, you were just laying down in each other's arms, sharing languid kisses in peaceful quietness.

“You know,” you murmured, fingers caressing his hair. “One day, you'll have all of this too. With me, with Ryan, with our future babies. We'll be the happiest family in the entire world.”

He then held your face so tenderly, eyes glassy again—but those were happy tears, a gentle smile on his face.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you more.”

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander fanfiction #the boys #the boys amazon #the boys x reader #asks #slasher-smasher #requests #i loveeed this request!#i really hope you like it #and it's what you had in mind #my first hl request fic im so nervous lol #my writing

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hungharrington · 11 months

Note

Help currently stuck thinking abt having Steve over at your family’s home for the holidays and you’ve both been good, polite, discreet, minimal PDA, and he truly is a beloved son in law and so wonderful ❤️ but he’s a menace when you’re finally alone and he puts his hands on you

Like you’re laying on your front, Steve against your back, sloooooowly rutting into you, putting his hand over your mouth, shushing you when you whine too loud, helping you breathe through your moans, teasing you for how slick you are, lightly pinching your skin to annoy you just a tad more. Just being an absolute tease ❤️

sweet revenge

help! me! jesus fucking christ anon i think u gave me brain worms with this ask the first fic for this is here but u don’t need to read it to read this <3 1.5k words, fem & afab!reader, stevie’s a massive tease, MDNI this work and entire blog is 18+!

Revenge comes not a day later.

Really, you should’ve predicted this after what you had pulled poolside, your hand working Steve’s cock just right until he’d spilled right into your hand, barely able to keep his whimpers quiet—then you had cajoled him immediately into lunch with your parents.

One wandering hand on his thighs, brushing the wet spot had Steve’s cheeks flushing scarlet in an instant. You had to smother a giggle when your mother made a comment about Steve being out in the sun too long and he had nearly choked on his food. Stammered out his agreement and sent you a withering glare.

So, his revenge is expected, to say the least.

But even that knowledge can’t prepare you for what it’s like the moment he gets you alone.

Insatiable. It’s the only word to describe him — messily mouthing at your neck, hands rough and desperate with how they roam your body, tugging at your clothes. He’s burning hot, his body pressing yours down into the scratchiness of your bed sheets. His cock is hard where it presses against your thigh and you can feel your core aching eagerly in response— teasing him had taken a toll on you too.

“Steve,” you gasp, between your breaths. His fingers tug at your jeans, swiftly popping the button and tugging them down an inch. His plush lips scrape down your neck, kisses that melt into something wetter, something hotter.

“Shhh,” Steve whispers, hands creeping under your shirt and clutching at your waist. He rocks his hips against your core, providing glorious friction that licks a flame of heat up your spine. You whine and arch into him, only to be softly shushed again. “Shhh, honey. S’gotta be quiet.”

He pulls back to work your jeans down and off your ankles. He’s breathing heavily, toned arms reaching up to pull his shirt off, quickly casting it aside— the sight of the soft planes of his tummy and definition in his arms only fuels your lust. You prop up for a moment to pull off your own shirt.

He’s back upon you in a moment, blazing hot kisses pressing down your neck, along the top of your breasts. His tongue burns hot where it draws a line up your sternum, at the same time his fingers curl into the edge of your panties to shimmy them down. Another gaspy breath escapes you.

His palms slide down your thighs, warm against your skin as he drags the sticky fabric down, out of his way. Really, you should probably have a few more reservations about him fucking you here and now, in your old bedroom. Especially with other people just a wall away; but those thoughts are all spun away at the feel of his barely restrained lustful hunger that radiates from him.

His hands dip under your back to unclip your bra, pulling it free from your body, his kisses following feverishly— sending streaks of heat to the coil in your gut. It takes only a moment for him to manhandle you onto your front. Your nipples peak at the rough material, scraping when Steve lines himself up and buries himself in your cunt, devastatingly slow.

You gasp again loudly and it gets swallowed into the sheets, consumed by the feeling of him pushing into you, throbbing and full. Steve makes a throaty noise, a groan that he barely manages to muffle— the hair of his chest brushes your shoulder blades as he leans against your back. One hand stays on your hip, the other pressing into the duvet beside you.

A pitiful noise slips from your throat as your slick gushes around his cock, the stretch feeling so fucking delicious and you whimper. Steve makes a noise of disapproval, “Sh, sh, sh,” he tuts, “Said we gotta be quiet.”

He bottoms out fully as he speaks lowly in your ear, well aware there’s no way to control the squeak you make— you squirm, hands twisting in the sheets as you fight the mounting pleasure and urge to whine again. He draws back, hips torturously slow as he fucks back into your hot, wet cunt.

“Y’can be quiet, can’t you?” He taunts, his free hand reaching up to brush some hair back from your face. He dots a kiss on your temple. It’s contradictory levels of sweetness compared to the feel of his fat cock leaking inside you as he rolls his hips into you. He’s still so slow with it, not even a slap of skin in the room. You moan lowly and try to hide it in the duvet.

“Aw,” Steve murmurs. “C’mon now, I’ll help you out, yeah?”

His hand beside you moves up again, smoothing over your hair again before it skims across your cheek and settles on your mouth. He picks up a pace a bit, just to feel your moan vibrate against his fingers and the coil in your tummy tightens impossibly more. You’re burning up in his arms, falling apart on his cock — it really is the sweetest revenge.

His fingers shift, adjusting their grip and you wrap your lips around his thumb and suck without a second thought— your cunt throbbing happily when Steve curses. His hips stutter in their movement, his fingers curling tighter around your hipbone. “Fuck,” he mutters. “F-Fuck, you feel-“

He cuts himself off with a growl, beginning to fuck into you harder, hips snapping into your ass at a feverish pace. You melt under him, desire flaming higher and higher in your chest. You feel yourself flutter around him and try to choke down your moans, drooling over his fingers just a bit.

“Don’t even need to shush you, hm,” He huffs. “This pretty pussy s’gonna give us away— christ, she’s so wet. You love this, don’t you?”

You don’t want to give him the satisfaction that he’s getting you back in a more than equal way but it’s impossible not to — not with the way you’re trembling beneath him, all pent up and ready to cream on his cock - all with people only a wall away. Another pathetic high noise gets muffled behind Steve’s fingers and you give a soft nod.

“Aw, honey,” Steve purrs, slowing his pace til it’s nearly lazy how he pushes into you. Slick wells at your entrance, spilling down your thighs. Somehow, it all makes it worse, his slowness driving the burning under your skin to scorching levels and you twitch, feeling your hips starting to drive backward — to fuck yourself on him desperately.

You get all but two seconds of relief before his hand on your waist shifts, pushing down on your lower back to pin your hips to the bed. You wiggle, another fruitless whine slipping past your fingers but Steve tuts disapprovingly. He stills, cock pressed deep inside you and holding you down.

“Sweetheart,” he warns, lips ghosting along your shoulder. He presses a kiss to your skin as his cock twitches inside you, warm and feeling fucking good. “If y’wanna cum, you’re gonna have to stay quiet.”

You nod rapidly eyes screwing shut to hold in your moan when he finally starts up again — this time with a renewed fervor, his strokes deep and gaining in speed. You pant, gripping the sheets as he fucks you, barely restraining your noises when his hand snakes around to play with your clit. You shake in his arms, orgasm burning up close in your tummy when- when— Steve’s fingers pinch at your side.

You yelp aloud at the unexpected feeling— the noise far louder than you intend. A whine follows when Steve slows his pace again, making your release fade, You don’t even get a moment to ask before Steve is speaking again.

“What did I just say, huh?” He murmurs, breath warm on your ear. He’s still thrusting, just enough to keep your cunt fluttering wildly around him, to have you keening in his arms — back arching as you push your chest further into the bed. “I know, I know, she’s just crying on my cock, honey, all slick and wet f’me, I know. But if you wanna cum…”

His hand slides back down, fingers rubbing over your bundle of nerves perfectly as his cock fucks in faster and faster. He presses another kiss into your shoulder and you can feel his smirk on your skin, as he asks, “You gotta be quiet f’me— think you can do both?"

Heat pools in your stomach, winding up faster than last time due to all his goddamn teasing. Another whimper slips through and you suck in a breath, like trying to rein the noise back in. You want to cum, you want- you want—

"Think y'can keep all those pretty little noises down when you cum on my cock?" Steve coos, his hips still rolling into you, fucking fast enough to hear the sound of your slick again. "C’mon, honey, I wanna see you try.”

#jay writes #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #ns/fw

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st-danger · 9 months

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Saint.

Saint my beautiful, wonderful friend.

A thought. A prompt, even.

Dew in the middle of a quintessence sandwich. Aether teaching Aeon how to use his magick in all the ways Dew likes best. Showing him where and how to touch, what to say. How to manipulate his little body and worm his way into his mind. Just really fuckin' him up.

How do you think that would go?

Aether holds Dew tight against his chest, noses against his hairline and breathes his scent in while Dew moans, hips twitching and forcing his cock further into Aeon's mouth. The heat pouring off of him speaks to how worked up they have him. Jerky movements, unconscious, just an innate need to demand more. More lips around him, more tongue wiggling on the underside. Farther in. Too far, this time, and Aeon pulls off, sputtering and coughing.

"Sorry," Dew says, but doesn't sound particularly sorry to Aether at all.

Aeon recovers and seems unruffled, wipes his mouth off on the back of his hand, smiling up at Aether. At Dew, too, of course, but it's not meant for him. If only he knew that.

"Didn't you say you wanted to show me a little something?" Aeon wiggles his fingers and Dew goes still. Against his neck, Aether places a wet, sucking kiss.

"Okay?" he whispers against Dew's skin, fingertips stroking over his temple, down the side of his face. "Cool if we play?"

Dew chokes out a yes, and Aether takes a slow, deep breath and bleeds magick into him, tangling himself between every neuron in his brain.

"Touch him," Aether says, "and focus on finding me."

Aeon scrambles to sit up, cock bobbing while he does, and presses a palm to Dew's belly. Right to his core. With a deep breath in, and a slow breath out, Aeon grins, and Dew whimpers suddenly.

"Feel that?" Aether asks.

"You feel, like, electric," Aeon says, looking past Dew to meet Aether's lavender gaze. He looks so curious, so intrigued, crooked grin exaggerating the fold from the corner of his mouth to his nose. "Can you feel that?" he says to Dew.

"Yeah," Dew breathes, nodding, stomach trembling under Aeon's palm. Aethers fingers stroke against the side of his face again, and Dew whimpers, clutching frantically at the arm Aether keeps wrapped around his chest. "Makes everything feel- oh, like a lot."

"That's what I want you to try," Aether tells Aeon. "Take a deep breath and play around with the levels. As it were."

Aeon closes his eyes and when he breathes out, pushes a rush of quintessence into Dew, focuses on making everything but pleasure go silent and Dew cries out, sudden and panicked-

He's shooting all over his stomach, all over Aeon's hand, cock wagging around wildly as it spits. Knees drawing up. Aether has to laugh.

"Little much right out of the gate," he says, and Aeon looks as sorry as Dew had sounded earlier.

"Unholy shit," Aeon laughs, and ignores Dew's protests when he starts rubbing his cum all over his stomach, smearing it around. Gross. Filthy.

"Try easing into it," Aether suggests. "Give him just a hint. "

Dew's not even caught his breath, but Aeon is inside every nerve, alongside Aether, and he forces another, gentler wave of pleasure from him. His cock hasn't even had time to go soft, and it twitches while Aeon lets himself inside of the very fibre of Dew's being.

"You can just keep him like this?" Aeon asks, unable to resist getting a hand on his swollen cock. Needs to give it a nice squeeze, get some relief.

"Like what?" Aether asks, tone pleasant and conversational. Talking about Dew like he isn't there to hear him. A little more and they could make him mindless. "Cumming? Or on edge?"

"Both, I guess," Aeon says, and the tip of his tongue pokes out while he concentrates again, feeling around Dew, feeling for Aether.

"Follow my lead," Aether says.

It's interesting, watching Aeon figure it all out. It isn't like he's new to this, but this particular application certainly is unfamiliar. Like with most things, he's a quick learned with this, too, and he and Aether coordinate until they find themselves in a push-pull of forcing pleasure into him, and then easing off.

It goes on for a very, very long while.

Aether is so hard he knows he's staining his underwear. Dew gasps every time, writhes with it, squirms and moves his legs so much he accidentally kicks Aeon.

"Probably deserved that," Aeon laughs.

"Sit still," Aether admonishes.

"Cant," Dew whines. His hairline is damp with sweat. His back is wet where it meets Aether's chest. "Oh, fuck, can't- make me cum again, oh, I need to-"

"Next lesson," Aether says, and waits for Aeon's focus to come back to him, and then Dew goes limp.

Aeon's eyes go as wide as Dewdrop’s do.

"What," he whispers, "was that?"

"Now he'll stay still," Aether says, reasonably. In his arms, Dew begins to shiver, his cock wet and drooling.

"Fuck, Aether, Aeon, please," he warbles.

"You paralyze him?"

"Essentially," Aether nods, and nuzzles into Dew's neck again, to speak against his skin when he says, "he likes feeling helpless. Don't you?"

"Touch me," Dew moans, clutching at Aether and blinking up at Aeon through lashes that he hopes will clump with tears before too long.

"That it?" Aeon asks Dew, elated and unable to get his hand off himself. "You wanna lie here and be used?"

The answering moan says it all.

"Go on," Aether encourages him, fingertips still rubbing against Dew's temple. "Play around. He likes it when hes out of control." Aeon places his hands on Dew's knees, and spreads them apart. There's no resistance. Despite knowing that, actually watching it is something else entirely, and the visual has Aether biting the side of his tongue.

He moves him like he's a doll.

Aeon sucks on his index finger, and they watch as he reaches and-

Dew moans as Aeon rubs at his hole, claws digging into Aether's arm.

"Yeah?" Aeon asks, eyebrow quirked. "Sensitive there, aren't you?"

"Fuck off," Dew snaps.

"You can keep him from talking, if you want," Aether suggests, and Dew makes a noise of dissent that he and Aeon ignore. Aeon looks deep in concentration while he pushes his finger in and out the smallest bit, but it's got Dew's face bright red.

"What can I do to him?" Aeon asks Aether. Not Dew; he asks Aether. It's been so long since he's had another ghoul with the same magick skillset to play with, and he's missed it more than he wants to admit.

"A lot of things," Aether says, drawing his tongue up the shell of Dew's ear and forcing another moan from him. "Whaddya have in mind?"

Aeon leans in and kisses Dew, a quick pluck of his mouth, followed by licking a stripe up the side of his face, forcing Dew to cringe.

"Aw," Aeon says, patronizing. He gives him another quick kiss, and rubs his nose against Dew's, affectionate.

"Aeon," Dew says weakly. "It's so much, both of you-"

"I want him to struggle," Aeon says. "I like it when they fight." He kisses the tip of Dew's nose. "It's cute."

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paradoxbeta · 17 days

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WHO IS EOC? i am very curious now!!!

>:) okay SO

tumblr picture formatting is utter garbage and i dont want these to take up too much space so im cramming these drawings into one row (or not if this crapsite breaks on me, because it seems to be REALLY fighting me on this, so if it ends up not making a nice little picture row know that i tried my best). but this is effigy of composure!

he has a couple problems, but the big one is that his superstructure has a terrible parasite situation. the parasites are flat, thin, and able to make it into grooves and pipes the inspectors cant reach. flushing out doesnt do much to dislodge them and they breed faster than they can be killed, so theyve happily made their homes in this sheltered, food-rich haven (to the obvious distress and horror of the host iterator). originally the concept for these parasites were much closer to centipedes and had the placeholder name "synapcipedes," but ive since started leaning more towards an obvious tapeworm motif for them because its gross and i enjoy it morbidly. it also has some pretty cursed implications if you think about it for too long which i have decided are funny/really disgusting/so stupid that they have to stay. i still flipflop between considering them centipedes vs tapeworms though and i dont think thatll ever be rigidly defined. the ambiguity is nice to toy with

on the top 10 list of "things that are not fun" having turbo worms has to be somewhere up there, so eoc has it *rough,* and kind of sort of eventually barrels off into the deep end because of it. his futile attempts to clean his own structure are frustrating enough, and the constant feeling of bugs crawling all over the inside of his body (which only gets progressively worse with time) does no favors either. however, the real big reason why he mentally declines is just because there's a ton of centi-worm things eating like fire through his neurons and other what-have-yous that iterators need to think and function. i think if he only got hit with one of these 3 things then he might have been able to hang onto his sanity, but with the triple combo he doesn't really stand a chance of doing much except stalling his functional death. which is good on him because if i was an iterator and my overseers told me i had a structure infestation, my mental health would have just preemptively swan dived off a bridge before anything even happened

anyhow, exponential parasite population growth meant exponential increase in all this other fun stuff, which means the time from the beginning of the infection to the time eoc is considered officially gone is startlingly short (for iterators, at least). it still took quite the while because losing your marbles is a loonnnng process, but still, yikes. its unfortunate because eoc was a real jokester pre-everything, and a cool guy to talk to. he was one of those people who could come up witty comments for anything like hed been ripped from the script of a sitcom. oh yeah, also, should have mentioned this earlier, but he ends up accidentally amassing a scavenger cult mid-insanity which goes hilariously bad because he's barely aware it's happening. nothing really works out for this poor iterator.

tldr: eoc gets parasites, they erode his brain, he goes nuts about it, (accidentally amasses a cult,) dies

#thank you for asking!#oc: eoc #rainworld #my art #ask #tw parasites #his complexity rating is low because he loses personality during/after the whole insanity thing #and also because he really only existed as the crux for the scavenger cult until recently #he became more of a character and less of a background plot device #why is the readmore broken wtf

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malice-ov-mercy · 4 months

Text

Weed and Pussy

Pairing: Will Ramos x OFC (Ivy)

Content Warnings: 18+!, smoking (weed), oral (female receiving), fingering, handjob, protected (p in v) sex, squirting

A/N: I saw that picture and it gave me brain worms. Didn’t plan for this to be an OC, but it just kinda happened, so I hope that’s cool with everyone. I also kinda got carried away, and the smoking aspect of the fic kinda got lost. Apologies. Also, you know what they say about Rain.

Word count: 3.6k

Tag list: @circle-with-me @xxrainstorm @foliosriot @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @reader13000 @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @concretenoah @witchyweeb34 @agravemisstake @an-insane-day @lyschko666

If you would like to be added, please let me know for who! If you tell me everyone/everything, just know that includes anything I may write for Bad Omens AND/OR Will Ramos.

————————————

Will Ramos Masterlist

————————————

Will stared at the file horrified. Something went wrong during recording and it sounded awful. Panic washed over him as he played it back again. He didn’t have time to re-record. He was already behind on posting it and this was the fifth time already he’s recorded. This was the best take Will had done. There was no way he could do better.

Feeling defeated, he reached for his phone and sighed when he saw the time. It wasn’t super late, but late enough that he felt bad for asking for help.

Will: Hate to bother you, but I need some help with a song file. Can I come over?

He would understand if she said no. He would probably say no himself, but he needed this fixed yesterday.

Ivy: sure! give me five and then head this way!

————

Luckily for Will, Ivy lived conveniently close. He was at her aptly Christmas decorated house in no time. The decor was simple, but conveyed enough of the holiday spirit. Shimmering multi-colored lights lined her driveway and pathway to her door. He saw no lights on in her house. If that already didn’t have him worried, the fact he knocked three times and received no response definitely concerned him. He was about to knock for a fourth time but the door swung open.

“Hi! Sorry! I was… occupied.” Ivy greeted him with a shy smile. Her freckled face was flushed a soft shade of pink.

She stepped aside and gestured for Will to come in. The house was dark, the only light coming from various nightlights and salt lamps she had scattered around everywhere.

“So what’s wrong with your file?” She asked, walking away from him.

Will followed her, taking note of her clothing—or lack thereof, really. She wore a deep, wine red satin nightie. He could see her back freely and the soft sprinkling of freckles that covered it. The color looked amazing on her. He nearly walked right into her when she stopped at her office door.

“Will?”

He swore to everything her eyes were maroon and not brown. His eyes scanned over the front of her nightie. Black lace lined the seams and edges.

“Earth to Will. Hello?” Her voice was light and soft. She snapped her fingers in his face.

Will’s face warmed when he realized he was staring. “Uh, well it’s real gritty and distorted. There’s random peaking and it just sounds real bad. Like, the worst thing I’ve ever recorded.”

Ivy hummed. “Well let me see what I’m working with.”

Will shrugged off his bag and searched for his laptop and the flash drive with the song. He set the items down on her desk, then turned to her.

“Do you mind if I smoke? This shit has stressed me all day.”

She smiled brightly at him. “As long as you share.”

————

“Oh Will, honey, what did you do?”

She scooted closer to her desk, her bare pussy grinding—knowingly or unknowingly, he couldn’t be sure— along his thigh. Will clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on the armrest. The tent forming in his pants was growing and he couldn’t adjust to mask it without drawing her attention. He took a long drag of his joint, holding in the smoke until it burned his throat and lungs.

He needed to not think about her exposed, warm cunt dampening the fabric of his sweats. Or how badly he wanted to bounce his leg and watch her come undone. Will’s eyes wandered to the open back of her nightie, the deep red wine color complimenting her complexion wonderfully. He wondered how soft her skin would be under his lips and if he’d be able to taste the flowers he smelled from her body wash.

The frustrated huff she let out broke him from his thoughts. Will erupted into a coughing fit when she adjusted again on his thigh, perching herself on his knee. He’d forgotten all about the hit he took and choked on the smoke trapped in his lungs. Even through the material of his sweats, he felt her lips slightly spread and more of her arousal stain.

She turned her head to glance back at him, taking the joint with a concerned expression.

“Are you okay?”

Will nodded, still coughing up both of his lungs. She watched him struggle to catch his breath. When he finally stopped, he took a big gulp of air and wiped his watery eyes.

“Would you like some water?” She squeezed his other knee with her hand.

“Yes.” The simple reply hurt his throat. His voice was hoarse and rough.

Ivy stood with a small smile then disappeared behind him. Will inhaled a deep, steadying breath, sputtering a few more quick coughs. His eyes fell to the wet spot on his knee. A tiny trail of her slick was left behind. Without thinking, Will reached to touch it. He gently stroked his fingers over the spot as his mind spiraled.

Why wasn’t she wearing underwear? Why was she wet? How wet was she? What does she taste like? How does she feel?

The last thought made his dick twitch. He suddenly remembered his aching erection and cursed. Hastily, Will shoved a hand in his pants, letting out a pained hiss as he ran his fingers—the same ones with the lingering arousal—over the head. Precum had started dribbling. He quickly swiped it away and bit his bottom lip to contain the noise that threatened to escape. Will struggled to somewhat comfortably hide his erection. It was still noticeable, but less so than the tent he was pitching.

“I don’t know what you did,” Ivy’s voice carried into her office, startling Will.

She handed him an unopened bottle then grabbed the still burning joint from the tray. Will hyper focused on the way her lips closed around it and the rise and fall of her chest as she inhaled deeply. Her long lashes reminded him of butterflies as her eyes fluttered shut. Ivy leaned her head back, hair cascading past her shoulders in fiery waves. Will watched her muscles and body loosen as she exhaled.

“But it’s going to take a while to try and save it.” Smoke delicately lingered between her lips. “We’re gonna be here a while.”

That definitely wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Will deflated, but happily took the joint from Ivy. He tried not to think about the trace of mint she left behind and how badly he wanted to taste it on her breath. He couldn’t be all that disappointed though. Ivy was always a great company.

She took the joint from him again and took a seat once more on Will’s thigh, turning her attention back to the computer. He leaned forward and propped his arm on the desk, resting his chin in his hand. He tried to ignore the feeling of her still bare and wet pussy.

“Despite how fucked the recording is, you did a great job, Will.”

Her sincere, bright smile made his heart jump to his throat.

“Sleep Token suits your voice so well, it’s incredible.”

The praise made his heart swell. “Thanks.”

She took another hit then set the joint back in the tray. Smoke stuck to her lips. Will desperately wanted to capture it between his.

He watched her work intently. She was so focused. He noticed the way her brows crinkled when something didn’t work, the cute way her lips pursed when she was deep in thought. She reached for the joint again and took another long drag, letting it settle deep in her chest before exhaling. Will grabbed it from her and copied her.

“I don’t mean to embarrass you or anything, but,” Will turned his head and exhaled. “Are you… Is there a reason you’re not wearing underwear?”

A delicate flush of pink tinted her freckled cheeks.

“I was…” Ivy bit her lip. “I was getting ready for bed when you texted and you got here much quicker than I expected.”

“Oh.” Will felt his own cheeks heat. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine! I can… worry about that when I fix this.”

Maybe it was the weed in his system or maybe he was thinking with the wrong head, but before he could stop himself, he blurted out—

“I could help you with that.”

Ivy whipped her head to the side to stare at him, brows raised. Will immediately tried to backtrack his statement.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean— that was meant to be an inside thought.”

“Well,” her voice trailed off. “If you're offering.”

Ivy slowly stood. Will looked at her utterly flabbergasted.

“Are you sure? I don’t—“

She turned her back to him and bent over her desk, her satin nightie rising up over her ass, allowing him to see just how wet her pussy was. Will felt his cock throb.

“I’m sure, Will.”

He sank to his knees. His hands tenderly caressed up her calves to her thighs. Her skin was as soft and smooth as her satin nightie, but warm under his gentle touch. Freckles were sprinkled everywhere on her legs. Some even found they’re way to her butt. Will ghosted his lips across the prominent moles he saw, awarding each one a soft, feather light kiss. Goosebumps spread over Ivy’s skin, contrasting the delicate softness. He scooted closer to her, coaxing her legs apart with a gentle pat.

Will kissed a path to her center, leaving a trail of hot breath and lip shaped wet marks between her thighs. He closed his mouth around her pussy, encasing her entirely between his lips. He groaned, low and loudly, his eyes fluttering shut as her warmth and taste graced his tongue. A breathless, light moan escaped Ivy. He slid his hands up to her plump ass and gave a firm squeeze.

Ivy pushed back, another soft sound coming from her as he buried his face further into her cunt. Will took his time, savoring the flavor of her arousal and letting himself get lost. His mouth, chin, and nose were coated in her. He experimentally poked her entrance with his tongue, then quickly dipped the tip inside a few times.

“Oh my god, Will.” She moaned.

The pleasurable sound of his name made his hard cock twitch. He moved his tongue to her clit, lightly lapping and flicking the swollen sensitive bud, and was instantly rewarded with more whiny whimpers. Every erotic noise Ivy made shot straight to his dick, making his erection ache. Will moaned into her as he sucked her clit between his lips.

“Fuck,” Ivy cried out. She reached behind her, seeking something to grab. She couldn’t grab his hair, so she settled for his hand and intertwined their fingers.

Will wished he could see her face. He wanted to see her gorgeous face contorted in ecstasy. He wanted to see her maroon-like eyes boring into his, piercing his heart and staking her claim to it.

“Will…”

He hummed. Ivy mimicked the sound.

“I’m close.”

His ravenous appetite grew, eager to give her what she needed. Will devoured her pussy, like a starving wild animal. With his free hand, he kneaded Ivy’s ass, his short nails creating crescent moons in her flesh.

Ivy’s whines grew in pitch and volume the closer she got. Will chased after her climax with her, his own sounds mixing with hers. He was sure to leave little bruises on her ass with the grip he had.

In unashamed desperation, Will nuzzled impossibly more into her soaking cunt. He needed her to unravel like he needed air. His tongue relentlessly worked. He made an audible and deliberate show of enjoying his meal. Ivy’s hold on his hand tightened, then her body seized and shuddered, followed by a delicate curse and cry of his name.

Will groaned, greedily lapping her through her orgasm. He was dazed and lost in her pussy, completely consumed in her and forgetting how to breathe. He simply couldn’t get enough. He needed her to cum again. Will wanted his face saturated.

He groaned loudly as he quickly flicked her clit. He moved his head side to side, earning a delightful moan from Ivy. Will feasted on her, like a feral, rabid beast. Nothing mattered to him except the intensity of Ivy’s quaking body as a second orgasm tore through her. His eyes fell shut as her cunt released over his mouth and covered his face. Her legs almost gave out, but he was quick to steady her.

He would have happily kept his mouth glued to her pussy and gave her another climax, but the gentle call of his name and weak tug on his arm broke him from his trance.

Ivy heaved a heavy breath. Will sat back on his legs and admired the glistening mess between her thighs. His cock started to hurt because of how hard and turned on he was. He didn’t expect anything in return, but he needed some kind of relief soon or he would fucking combust.

Slowly, Will stood up, his knees cracking and popping in protest. Ivy pushed herself up and flipped her body around so she was facing him. She leaned back on her arms, a content, satisfied smile plastered across her face.

Fuck she was hot.

“Can I—“ his voice cracked. “Can I use your bathroom?”

Instead of answering, Ivy reached for his hips and pulled him close. She then hopped up on her desk.

“What do you need to go to the bathroom for, hm?”

Will’s mind went blank as she teasingly slipped her fingers into the waistband of his sweats and boxers. Ivy tugged his bottoms down enough to free his aching cock. He sighed, relieved at no longer being constrained. Ivy swiped her thumb over the tip of his dick.

Will slammed a hand down on the desk, accidentally slamming the keyboard. He didn’t expect to be so hypersensitive.

“Oh, sensitive are we?” Ivy husked in his ear.

She twisted her hand along his shaft as she stroked, pulling an elongated, desperate and choked whine from his lungs. Will forgot how to breathe all over again. He screwed his eyes shut and bit his lip. His fingers flexed on the keys. The recording started playing, only now it sounded perfect. There was no distortion or odd peaking. Pristine vocals and instrumentals void of any mistakes. Whatever Will did by smacking the keyboard seemed to fix the issue.

“Seems you’ve fixed your song.” Ivy ran her thumb over his leaking head. “Sounds great, but—“

The cut off of her sentence prompted Will to look at her. Lust and desire drenched her maroon colored eyes, pouring from them in buckets. The light emitting from the computer screen cast an angelic glow around her. Her hypnotic gaze turned him into putty. She smirked as his dick throbbed in her hand. Ivy lowered her head slightly, making sure to keep the intensity of their stare. Her clementine colored locks softly framed her shoulders. She opened her mouth. His eyes flicked to her tongue and he wondered how it would feel around his dick.

Will watched drool pool in her mouth and dribble over her chin. His cock twitched as droplets of her saliva landed on his head— and then a glob of spit. Ivy spread her spit all around his aching dick and tightened her grip around him. A pathetic, whiny, needy and embarrassing sound left his mouth.

“I think you sound better like this.”

The sensation of her slickened touch almost made him bust immediately—which would have been infinitely more embarrassing than the noise he just made. He wanted her to keep jerking him, but he craved to be inside her more than anything.

“Ivy,” Will’s voice trembled. Another whine fluttered between his lips as she pumped a little faster.

“Hm? What is it?”

He reached for her hand and stopped her movements. She unwrapped her fingers. Disappointment briefly flashed in her eyes. The second verse of Rain cut through the silence of the room.

“I—“ He took a steadying breath, “I want—“

No, I need, he thought.

“What do you want, sweetheart?”

Fuck.

The pet name nearly turned his brain to mush. How exactly could he tell her he wanted to fuck her senseless, that he wanted to be buried so deep inside her pussy, he’d need to be surgically removed?

“I need to fuck you.”

His own words and firm tone surprised him. Ivy swiped her tongue over her bottom lip. She tore her eyes away from him, looking to a drawer of her desk. Will took a small step back to allow her to rummage through and find what he assumed would be a condom. He immediately returned to his previous spot when she found one.

Ivy ripped open the foil packaging with her teeth and then grabbed his dick, giving a few slow, long strokes before unrolling the latex down his shaft. She scooted closer to the edge of her desk and positioned his dick to her entrance.

“Wait—“ Will said suddenly, reaching down between them. “I’m dying to feel you.”

He teased her entrance with his middle digit, gently and softly circling it with the pad of his finger. “Can I?”

“Please.”

Will slipped his finger in with ease. He didn’t plan to finger her for long, but he wanted to feel her unprotected, feel how warm and wet she was—and maybe just to tease.

Slowly, he pumped in and out. A pleasant humming rumbled in Ivy’s chest. He went knuckle deep and stopped to curl his finger. He wasn’t sure if he could reach her spot, but he was damned determined to try.

He angled his wrist, using the movement and pressure to sink slightly deeper and curled his finger again. Ivy choked a whine and her body jerked. Her walls throbbed as he pressed the spongy tissue again. Will built a steady pace, working her cunt nice and slow. Ivy’s body melted in his hand with every thrust and delectable curl. Any word she tried to speak muddled together in a dazed, breathless moan. This isn’t how he wanted her to come undone though.

Much to Ivy’s brief dismay, Will removed his finger. He brought it to his lips and stared down the red headed wonder in front of him as he licked it clean.

“I could taste you forever.”

Ivy threw her arms over Will’s shoulders and crashed their lips together. Her hands threaded in his hair and tugged gently. Will wrapped an arm around her lower back, pulling her closer. He grabbed his dick and took the opportunity to finally slide his achingly hard cock in her dripping pussy. Her moan got lost between their lips.

Will gave her a moment to adjust before moving. His first few thrusts were slow and deep. He wished he could feel her in all of her aroused and wet glory. She felt incredible gripping his finger. He could only imagine how fucking mind blowing her cunt would feel strangling and choking his bare cock.

The wet, squelching sound of her cunt drowned out the still playing song in the background. Will focused only that disgustingly erotic sound and the dizzying heat of Ivy’s breath on his lips. Words escaped her again. Nothing but moans and heavy panting came from her.

She hooked her legs around him. Will lifted her off the desk and cradled her close to his body, thrusting hard and deep. Ivy flexed her fingers, incessantly tugging his hair at the root. Each harsh tug made him groan and pound harder into her cunt. The sharp smack of skin against skin drowned out the music playing, the song being long forgotten.

“Fuck!” Ivy yelled. “Right there, Will.”

He loved hearing his name from her pretty mouth. Will slipped his hands inside the back of her nightie, pressing her body closer to his. The whine and strain in her voice urged him to work faster. He picked up his pace. A barrage of choked moans filled the air around him. He didn’t want to come before her, but he feared he might.

Ivy untangled a hand from his hair and reached for her clit. She mewled, arching her body more into his. Her beautiful, unhinged sounds echoed on a loop in his brain. Will could have gotten off to just the sound alone.

“Will, I’m so close.”

His hips snapped ruthlessly, her shrill and loud cries providing him with a deep, carnal desire. He sank his teeth in the crook of her neck, sucking a dark bruise on her delicate skin.

“Oh GOD. WILL—“ Ivy all but screamed.

She clung to him, wrapping her arms so tightly around his back he could hardly breathe. Her hands found their way back to his hair and she pulled roughly as her orgasm violently tore through her body. Ivy trembled involuntarily in his hold. Will felt her release saturate them both.

The slick, wet sound of her thoroughly fucked cunt drove him mad and over his own edge. He barely managed to hold them up upright as his own orgasm came crashing around him. His hands slid higher up Ivy’s back, one resting in the middle and the other gripping her soft orange hair at the base of her skull. He clung to her, much like she did to him.

His ears started to ring and a strained whimper escaped him. He unloaded in the condom, cumming so hard that it was almost painful, and with such force that he momentarily worried he broke through the latex. He didn’t think he’d ever stop spilling semen. Each pulse and throb of his dick made him whine.

With jellified legs, Will stumbled forward and carefully sat Ivy back on her desk. He tried to take a step back, but Ivy kept him close. She pressed their foreheads together. Weed and pussy were heavy on their breaths. Ivy sweetly pecked his lips.

“You should fuck up your recordings more often.” Ivy said breathlessly.

Will chuckled then gave her a proper kiss.

“Don’t tempt me.”

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