#and they're infesting my mind | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thegnomelord · 7 months ago

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if you write a thing about the creaming the zussy i will kiss ur boots

The boots better be shining when you're done.

How To Cure Zombies 101

CW:NSFW MDNI, crackfic obv PiV sex, TLOU Clicker trans Ghost, Top Male Reader, established relationship, happy ending, dub-con because Simon consented before he got bit but reader is apprehensive, zombie sex (does it count as necro?) how does this work? idk porn logic. Don't ask me how this happened, i hope this doesn't become what my blog becomes known for.

When the Cordyceps spread across the planet and turned millions of people into shambling mushroom infested undead, the world ended.

When Simon got bitten. . . your world ended.

You still remember it like it had been yesterday; He came back bloody, an empty look in his eyes as he showed you the bite on his arm. Your hands shook as he wrapped them around the grip of the gun and aimed it at his head. You both ended up on the floor with you crying into his chest, unable to pull the trigger.

You remember the resigned look in his eyes when he had agreed to let you do whatever you needed to him to cure him, but both of you knew there was no way, what made you immune to the fungus was as mysterious to the rest of the world as it was for you. His lips had been burning hot when he laid a soft kiss on your forehead, the last sense of warmth you've felt since the docs took him to where they kept the infected for study, your heart leaving with him.

And now?

Now the scientists that have been prodding you like a lab rat since Simon got bitten nearly a year ago say they have a way to bring his mind back, to get Simon back.

And the way to do it?

"So let me get this straight?" You begin, your voice tense, your body even tenser. "You want me to fuck the corpse of my lover? And that will cure him?"

That. You're not sure how the eggheads arrived to this conclusion, frankly all of their scientific jargons had flown over your head. All you understood was that the man you had fallen since the first time you met him could be brought back.

You sincerely hope you won't make some type of super fungus through this.

Words can't describe what you feel as you look at Simon's (is it even Simon?) bound body writhing on the gyno chair, naked and bare to you. You doubt you even know what you feel, hope and fear simultaneously curling in your stomach— You hadn't had the courage to look at him ever since the scientists took him away; The harsh laboratory lights make it easy to see the mycelium filling his veins beneath the ashy pale skin, mushroom caps growing beneath his pecs and across all other scars he has. Red and yellow mushrooms have eaten away his nose and spread out to follow the contours of his face, growing in a way that makes the mushroom caps blend together into a skull shape.

Your heart aches when you see his eyes haven't been eaten away yet, the once deep brown turned milky white and staring lifelessly past you, thrashing about in the bindings, rotten teeth gnawing on the ball gag in his mouth, small hisses and malformed muffled clicks echoing through the room.

You try to look down and you stop at his stomach, forcing yourself to breathe in and out slowly because your heart is beating so fast it feels like you'll have a panic attack. You have no idea if this will work and doing this to Simon only to find out it's as useless as all your previous attempts to cure him. . . you're sure it would break you. Closing your eyes and counting to ten you will yourself to focus, your eyes opening slowly and following the trail of little mushroom caps down to his groin.

It's not what you expected., but it's. . . a lot; Mushroom caps have replaced the lips of his cunt, similar to the hard growths on his head but these look thinner and longer, almost like flower petals framing his cunt, bright red at the corners and getting progressively lighter as it nears his hole. A sort of morbid curiosity compels you to reach out brushing your fingertips against the caps. They're surprisingly softer than you had expected, smooth and slick with some kind of slime. You can't help but notice how a longer stalked mushroom grows from what had been his clit.

You jerk your hand back when a second brush of your fingers makes his body to jerk back and attempt to fight against the restraints, more angry clicks vibrating his throat.

But you also notice a kind of… sweet scent in the air and it's coming from him. Cautiously you brush against the caps again, slowly dipping your fingers under to touch the gills underneath. You keep your hand where it is when he thrashes again, but you're certain that smell is stronger now, and you catch the glimpse of clear viscous slick slowly leak from his hole.

Carefully you push a finger into his hole in an attempt to stretch him out. Logically you know that he probably doesn't feel it, but it feels wrong to just stick your cock in him; He's cold. You know he's dead but you had held out some hope that he would be warmer, that there would be some signs of life despite how stupid that sounds.

He's dry right now, but more of that clear fluid seeps around your fingers and lubes the way as you experimentally push your finger all the way up to the last knuckle, and you felt his muscles flutter around you, clenching down as if trying to draw you in deeper. His head continued to thrash around, no change in the feral behavior, but you still try to be gentle, pushing one then two fingers in and slowly scissoring him open.

You pull your fingers out when his hole has relaxed enough to let you easily slide your fingers in and out, and he's produced enough slick to completely drench your hand. You try to look at him as you press your cock against his fluttering hole, but the sight of his milky eyes almost makes you soft on the spot so you screw your eyes closed and slowly slide in.

Despite how cold and wet his cunt is, you haven't felt anyone's touch, even your own, since he got infected, and a part of you feels disgusted at how a bit of pleasure traces up your spine. He continues to hiss and click as you bottom out, his hips bucking wildly you have to press them down. You set a slower pace than you're used to, keeping your thrusts even and consistent, afraid to tear anything but your fear is seemingly misplaced. He's so much wetter than he'd ever get before he got infected, slick wetly squelching as you bottom out over and over again, clicks and snarls accompanying every move you make.

You're ashamed to say you don't last long. Fuck, is he tight you've been ignoring your body for so long that when you accidentally brush against the stalk growing from his clit and his cunt suddenly tightens up like a vice you cum on the spot, your hips doing little minute twitches as you empty so much of your cum in his cunt that your balls hurt. You pull out just as slowly, both of your mixed fluids leaking out and almost getting caught by the soft mushrooms framing his hole.

You muster up the courage to look him in the eyes, and your heart breaks when his lifeless eyes blindly stare back at you.

You feel like a fool when the first time doesn't work, he's still just a body pupated by a fungus. And you feel like an even bigger fool when you agree to do this a second time.

But the third time. . .

You don't know if it's just wishful thinking but he seems more. . . alert. His head always follows you when you approach him but now his milky eyes almost seem to be looking at your face instead of staring straight through you. He's strangely still on the chair, teeth gnawing on the ball gag but he doesn't try to get out of the restraints.

He doesn't screech when you gently caress the soft outer mushroom caps framing his cunt, instead his chest vibrates with more deep clicks. Nor does he start to wildly writhe on the chair when you slowly sink a finger into his cunt, finding it's already wet with slick. If anything he almost seems to chase(more like stumble) after the sensation, his hips doing small little movements to push your finger deeper into him.

Emboldened by childish hope you do something you hadn't before and reach with your other hand to slowly trace the long stalk of the clitshroom (not a term you coined), before rubbing the base of the cap like you would your own cock.

You nearly jump out of your skin when the gentle pressure of your fingers makes him buck into your hands and let out an ear-piercing screech that the gag has trouble muffling. You pull your hands away and that worsens the problem, the shrieking turning into literal chest rumbling snarls as Simon starts to struggle against the bindings.

Panic rushing down your system you put your hands were they were, gently stroking the 2 inch long mushroom growing from his clit. His hips buck up to chase after your hand, the snarls reverting back into shrieks, but as you stroke him longer they gradually die down to low pitched clicks and whistles. You're stumped; the clicks sound a lot like a cat's puff, his hole fluttering and clenching around your fingers as you slowly push them inside.

He's warmer now, not quite how he was before, but not cold as a corpse either. You know that you've gone completely mad by the fact he starts to gyrate his hips— grinding down just as you get knuckles deep so your fingers can brush against the sensitive spots inside him — makes your mind think that it's a bit of your Simon coming back.

You shake your head and pull your hands away, taking hold of his trembling thighs. You're greeted with another deep snarl but he quiets down immediately when you start to slowly push into him. He feels even tighter now, and you watch how his head falls back on the headrest, a long series of low clicks and whistles squirming past the gag.

His hips move to meet your slow thrusts, tight warm walls squeezing down every time you attempt to pull out just like he used to do. And that thought has your body increasing the pace automatically, your balls slapping against his ass, every sharp thrust hitting something spongy inside him and drawing out a sharp click, the rough pace leaving you panting.

Mindlessly you look up, too caught up in the moment remembering how Simon loved eye contact to remember the situation you're in.

He's looking straight at you.

You halt mid thrust, the low hiss he lets out falling on deaf ears as you tilt your head to the side. You're not insane, his eyes follow you. They're still milky, but they don't look through you. He's looking at you.

Another rough clicking sound leaves him and he thrusts his hips down against yours with enough strength to bruise, almost impatient. Despite how stupid it is you reach out and quickly unbuckle the gag with trembling fingers. "Si?" You say, unable to hide the hope in your voice. "Are you there?" You lean over him, looking hopefully into his eyes. "Do you remember me?"

His jaw moves like he's munching on a survivor, but all that leaves his mouth are more clicks and rough grunts.

Fuck. You are a fool.

A sob tears through your chest before you can stop it, ducking your head down to lay it on his chest. You're unable to keep the fresh tears from falling on him, watering the damned mushrooms that had taken him from you. You can't stop the sobs from coming, your back bowed and shoulders shaking as you cry just as much as the day you first lost him.

His chest vibrates with another long series of clicks and whistles, just pouring salt on the gaping would in your chest.

Your name rights through the room.

It's scratchy, rough, almost incomprehensible to your ears, but it's your name.

You look up so quickly you almost snap his neck. "Simon?" You whisper, staying in him even as you feel yourself soften. "Are you in there?" You slowly reach out to hold his face, careful not to cut your hands on the sharp mushroom caps along his cheeks.

He looks at you back, jaw moving still, but he doesn't try to bite the flesh of your palms despite your hands being right there. "Ckckck-" He clicks, pupils going from pinpricks to blown out, "Ckckrkck- Mo- ckck-ve." He manages, a thrust of his hips accompanying the order.

Your heart leaps to your throat and you can do nothing but follow it, sliding one hand down to dig your nails into his thigh, looming over him as you pull out until only the head is inside and them slam into him that there's an audible clap of skin on skin as you bottom out. A half shriek half click half "Yes!" escapes him as he throws his head back, slack jawed.

A whole range of noises escapes him as you hammer into him with all you've got, one hand remaining always on his face. You can feel him getting hotter the longer you pound into him, body shaking as each thrust nails his sensitive spot. He gets progressively tighter and tighter as you fuck into him, and you let go of his thigh to carefully strike along the long shaft of the clitshroom.

He shrieks at the top of his lungs and his cunt clenches down on you like a vice, fluttering around you and gripping your cock like it doesn't want you to pull out. It pulls you into an orgasm,

"Simon?" You whisper, staying in him even as you feel yourself soften. He's too silent compared to how vocal he had been a few moments ago. "Are you in there?"

His head rolls a bit, peering at you through through his lashes, tongue moving heavily in his mouth and lips twitching up into a soft of barely-there grin. "Cckck- l- ckckc- love- ckrk-you -ckkckrkckck-"

Taglist: @dead-end-stuff

#gnome correspondence #cod mw2 #x reader #male reader #top male reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x male reader #the last of us cod au #the last of us #trans character #idk how this happened #Clicker Simon Ghost Riley

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murdrdocs · 4 months ago

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logan x stripper!reader demons are infesting my mind rn… maybe he was corralled into the club by Wade and … idek where this was going but i really need to hashtag fuck that old man!

anon i had sm thoughts abt this last night. none of them are organized. this is gonna be a massive brain dump but stick w me here.

logan was in fact corralled into the club by wade under false pretenses. he was told that "the son of a bitch hangs out here" and logan didn't know exactly who they were looking for, but he'll do anything if it means he doesn't have to see blind al going through withdrawals again. so he tags along, only asking need to know questions. but as soon as they're in there and wade describes the guy logan quickly realizes that their perp is the fucking hamburglar.

"my future wife works here, maybe yours does too." wade drops the act, hands on logan's shoulders for all of a second before logan shakes him off.

"c'mon, don't be shy. go sink your metallic claws into some pretty girl …” wade takes a moment before adding, “or guy!” and then wade stuffs logan's hand full of cash and saunters off somewhere else before logan can even say anything else.

logan knows he could just go home, blind al isn't so bad if she can listen to people speeding through answers on jeopardy!, but then he turns around and sees you—strutting up to the pole on one of the stages, wearing nothing except a skimpy yellow and blue two piece set. he's just drawn to the familiar colors, that's all. that's the reason why he makes his way over and takes a seat, albeit near the back.

this isn't logan's scene at all. he's not the pay-for-company type. he should leave before it's too late, before he's noticed.

he was going to leave, but then logan watches you approach the tip rail, your eyes watching some guy below you. logan stares as you dance for the guy, and just as the guy slips a few bills into the waistband of your tiny shorts, your eyes lift and you see him—logan, sitting in the back of the section, probably poorly lit, but you must like what you see because you linger.

the patron thinks you're lingering for him. logan can practically smell the excitement leaking out of his pores, but above it all he can smell you. a scent so particular and enticing that he wants to smell it as often as he can. he wants to smell it right on him. and he eventually gets what he wants when your set finishes and logan can smell that same scent, stronger than before, making it's way towards him.

god, he really should leave before he's in too deep, but his morality kicks in. he couldn't just sit here and free load, watching you work your ass off without slipping you at least a little something. so he takes a few of the bills wade gave him, pretty much half, and just places it in your hand when you stop in front of him.

you grin over at him and tilt your head, taking in the way he stuffs the rest of the cash into his pocket as he stands.

"leaving already?"

and maybe you're good at your job, or logan is more of a pushover than he thought he was, because he somehow ends up in a vip room with you, watching you dance for him.

he's not afraid to admit you're pretty. he understands why people would pay for this. but he also understands that this is your job. that he's literally paying for you to ask him to help you take your top off. he's paying for human contact, so he's reluctant to relax.

until you coax him into it, your voice as gentle as your hands cupping his face. everything you say sounds so earnest, like you're speaking from the heart and not a script you pull out depending on the customer.

once logan relaxes, he's fucking gone. yeah, that's the most relaxed he has felt in a while, and yeah he wants to see more of you, but he won't go back. mostly because he's broke and he has absolutely no idea where wade got that money from.

luckily wade loves to play matchmaker, setting up two of his friends (logan should've known that this would all come full circle) on a semi-blind date.

logan would've been more upset about it if he didn't get to fuck you (for free!) over and over again that same night.

#more on them later #.... maybe #but i fw this #/chats #logan howlett x reader #logan x stripper!reader #logansworld!

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spaceclefairy · 6 months ago

Text

Only You

You don't expect the Ghoul to hang around, but he comes creepin' back in around sundown every night. You're glad you remembered the Rad-Away.

Act I | Act II | Act III | Act V | Ao3 Compilation

You're stuck in Filly for the next few days while you sort out the raider issue with your agency. You assume “sorting it out” involves the agency terminating the raiders with characteristic violence and aplomb, but you don’t ask questions when you don’t want to know the answer.

There’s not a lot of lodging in Filly. In fact, there’s not much of anything. Ramshackle trader stalls, a few real stores if you squint, a radroach-infested motel, and a bar that most of the town seemed to frequent once the hour struck late no matter the day. At least the bar has enough open rooms to let you rent one for a few nights.

You hadn't expected the Ghoul to stick around, but so far, he continues to show up. He disappears during the day, then returns long after dark and crawls into the small barroom bed with you. You don't ask him what he gets up to during the day (you don't want to know), but you assume he's taking care of smaller contracts while he's out.

You've been spending your days at the agency hub taking down telegrams for contracts and sending out bids. It's mind numbing work when you're used to dealing with bounty hunters all day, but you've got to do something while you wait for the agency to give you the okay to go back home. You need money, and you’ll probably go nuts if you don’t keep yourself busy.

At least you've got the chance to see some old acquaintances at the agency hub. A couple of former bounty hunters who'd come through your office were now agents at the hub. They're alright, as far as wastelanders go; you hang around with them when you take breaks.

Today’s smoke break has more or less turned into gossip time. You’re happy to listen in on any and all gossip (it’s part of your job, after all) - it’s less enjoyable when the questions turn to you.

One of them, a woman whose teeth were file-sharpened into fangs (creatively named Fang), lives above the bar down the hall from you. She's good natured, if quite terrifying. She leans against the crumbling concrete wall of the hub, taking a drag on a little paper cylinder that smells suspiciously like burning catnip. “I saw that ghoul you came into town with last night. Is he staying with you?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah.”

You’re not inclined to expound upon her question, but she lives down the hall from you. She’s obviously seen the Ghoul creeping into your room at night (he’s not exactly quiet, either), hence the question.

The other, an individual with - conversely - no teeth to speak of (again, creatively named Gums - fuckin’ wastelanders), chimes in. “You're staying with a ghoul?”

“Yeah-”

Fang interrupts you. “And not just a ghoul. The Ghoul.”

“The Ghoul? As in…” Gums raises a sparse, flakey eyebrow. You nod, and they whistle. “Nice. How'd you bag that?”

“Longtime client,” you reply simply. You don’t know Gums as well as you do Fang, but they seem harmless enough. “He got caught in the gunfight when the raiders showed up at my office.”

You neglect to tell them he'd started the gunfight. The less they know, the better.

“Not bad. You could do worse,” Fang observes. “Does his dick look like the rest of him?”

You nod. “Yep.”

Gums grins. “Cool.”

Your break turns into playing hooky the rest of the day, mostly because you don’t want to field any more questions from anyone who’d seen you walking around with the Ghoul. You make yourself scarce for the rest of the day, choosing to wander around town. You haven't been to Filly in years, not since you were a kid. It hasn't changed much. There's still the same derelict bars, saloons, and stores. There's more than one bounty agency here, too, though you don't know which ones. You're only concerned with yours.

Sundown slides over the town by the time you head back over to the bar for the night. Everyone’s locked down and boarded up their places of business, the street vendors have all scattered. You know that Filly after sundown is not a great place to be, but you can hold your own if the need arises.

You're in the mood for a drink tonight, and frankly, there's nothing else to do in Filly after dark that won’t get you shot. When you step into the dingy bar, you make your way up to the bartender and grab a beer. It’s watery and gross-looking, but it smells like beer and you can’t be picky out here in the wasteland.

When you turn around to find somewhere to sit, you spot the Ghoul watching you from a back corner of the bar. You're surprised he’s back by sundown - he’d been rolling in late into the night, long after the moon had risen into the sky. You take your beer and skirt around the chairs and tables littering the bar.

He cocks his head and watches you approach. He's got a half-full beer mug in one hand - evidence he's been back for a while. He doesn't give you a chance to grab another chair when you reach him. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you down into his lap.

If you didn't know how much booze it takes to affect a ghoul, you'd assume your Ghoul was drunk, but he's not. He just doesn't seem to care that the few patrons of the bar have their eyes trained on the two of you. Of all the things you expect him to be, possessive is not one - or maybe he is possessive, and this is his warning to the other patrons. You don't care which, and you’re not inclined to give it further thought. Rather, you're distracted by his hand squeezing the top of your thigh.

The Ghoul takes a drink of his beer and rests the glass on your knee. “Any word on the raiders?”

“Other than, it's being handled, no,” you reply. You force your brain to focus away from his hand on your thigh. You don’t want to admit to yourself that’s all it takes for him to get you going. “My agency isn't exactly forthcoming about what goes on behind the scenes.”

“No, they're quiet about how dangerous they are, and they like to keep it that way,” he agrees. He pauses, and grins slightly. “Kind of like you. You're a hell of shot with that rifle.”

Compliments from him are few and far-between - forward compliments at least. He’s far more show than tell. You’re… flattered, actually, that he’s paid attention to you beyond just physically. You know he has, but it’s nice to hear it.

Again, you suspect you may actually like the Ghoul.

“Can't be a bounty agent if you haven't been a bounty hunter before,” you shrug. “I've had plenty of practice.”

He takes a drink of his beer, and says, so, so quietly, “Ditch the agency and come with me. Be a bounty hunter again.”

You raise an eyebrow. He's not serious, surely.

“I like what I do now, Cooper,” you reply softly. “But my door's always open.”

He nods. “Fair enough.”

The Ghoul returns to people-watching in silence, sipping on his beer and continuously making you more and more nervous with his hand on your thigh. He's taken to rubbing circles into your thigh with his thumb, and he keeps getting closer and closer to the space between your legs. He's not being even remotely inconspicuous, either. More than one person in the bar has caught on to what’s going on in the back corner, if the odd looks you’re getting tell you anything.

You don't try to make him stop (you don’t think you’re capable of asking him to stop), but you do lean back against his shoulder and press your lips to his ear. “You're gonna do this here?”

He looks you dead in the eye. “I'll fuck you right here in this chair with every single person watchin’.”

Yeah, no, he's serious on that one. You can see it in his eyes. Actually, you can feel his dick pressed against the back of your leg, too.

You blink. “We should probably go upstairs now.”

He chugs the rest of his beer, then pats your leg, motioning for you to stand up. “Should have already gone upstairs.”

You don't disagree. In fact, you don't think you could have stood up any faster.

The Ghoul looks you up and down with that grin on his face before following you up the stairs. You don't quite make it back to your room before he’s grabbing at you by the waist and pulling you close. He traps you against the wall, body pressing down on you, completely irreverent of anyone walking down the hallway behind you. You grab his face and kiss him; his raw skin is chapped, but soft and cool against yours. The brim of his hat knocks against the top of your head, but you don’t care.

You scramble to find your door key in your back pocket and only just manage to get your hands on it. You can’t quite manage to get the key in the lock, so he takes a break from what he’s doing (grabbing your tits under your shirt) to take it from you and jam it into the door.

The Ghoul kicks the doors closed behind him with the heel of his boot. The force shakes dust from the walls and kicks dirt up from the floor. With a single-mindedness that takes your breath away, he backs you up to the tiny bed shoved up against the back wall and drops down to his knees.

He strips your pants and underwear down your legs, then prompts you to sit down with a hand on your stomach. As much as you like when he tries to have a little patience, you like it this way more - sloppy, breathless, a little desperate for you. A starving man eating his first meal in days.

With a tug, he drags your hips over to the edge of the bed and sets to work with his tongue. You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch and busy yourself picking open the buttons of your shirt with shaking fingers. You shrug out of your shirt, leaving yourself completely exposed. He hasn't even taken off his hat yet, but you take care of that for him and drop it onto your head.

The Ghoul looks up at you and pauses his ministrations, licking his lips in thought.

You shrug. “The hat was in the way.”

He doesn't respond, choosing to set his mouth back to better purposes, but he keeps his eyes trained up on your face while he sticks his tongue in your cunt. He's sloppy about it, spreading your lips with his gloved thumbs so he can get better access to you. You buck up against his face, and he doesn't stop you - no, he buries his tongue deeper between your legs and lets you ride his face, all the while still looking up at you with those bright hazel eyes.

Finally, it hits you, and you grin like you've won the damn lottery. “You like me wearing your hat, Cooper?”

He nips your inner thigh with his teeth, making you jump, and sets back to sucking your clit. You take that as a warning not to tease him, but it's so much more fun to know his mouth is too full of you to tease you back.

You don't stop teasing him, knowing full well it's just going to rile him up. “Why don't you come up here so I can ride your face properly, cowboy? I've got the hat to fit the part.”

The Ghoul has had enough of the gloves obstructing his ability to feel your skin. He stops long enough to strip them off, stick a finger in his mouth to coat it with his spit, and press his finger deep into your entrance. You choke on the fullness, the sensation rough but not unwelcome.

“Well, don't get quiet on me now,” he says.

You stutter, but he can absolutely understand you when you say, “I like riding your face when you're on your knees, too.”

He spreads you apart and licks you, slow and deep, chasing the path of his fingers. He watches you while he does it, eyes never leaving yours. “Is that right?”

You nod. “Sure is.”

You lean over where you sit, where he's still on his knees on the floor, and unbutton his shirt. You expect him to tell you to stop - there's more light in the room this time, after all - but he doesn't. He shrugs his duster and shirt down over his shoulders and lets them hit the floor. This time, you can really see what he looks like. Raw, pitted skin, mostly red but pink-white in places where old scars have healed over time and again, build slight but still muscular. He seems to be waiting for you to pull back, recoil away - stop in your tracks. You grab his face and kiss him, then pull him to his feet.

You pull him closer by his belt before that comes off, too. Boots and pants next, dropped carelessly to the floor. You take a minute to look and touch, run your hands over exposed skin, and he sighs softly at your touch.

“Look at you, Cooper,” you say. “Aren’t you a sight?”

“You are fuckin’ strange,” the Ghoul comments, but it’s with affection. His version of affection, anyway.

“Yeah,” you shoot back with a grin, “but I don't hear you complaining.”

You take his cock in hand and run your tongue along the vein underneath, making him twitch. You swallow him down, fisting what doesn’t fit in your mouth, until he’s threading his fingers through your hair and pulling you off of him.

The Ghoul deems that to be the extent of what he can take from you. You’re on your back with him crawling over you before your brain registers that he’s moved. He smashes his lips down over yours while his hands creep up along your sides. He wastes no time reaching between your legs and running the head of his cock along your slit. Not for the first time, you marvel at how much you prefer the roughness over his attempts to be patient.

You’ve teased him long enough, you decide, so you wrap your legs around his waist and arch up against him. “Come on, Coop -”

He obliges and thrusts into you, planting one hand next to your head for leverage. The other hand catches your chin and holds you steady while he fucks you. You meet his eyes, and the way he watches you - like it’s a privilege to touch you - makes you ache.

You nudge him with your hip until he rolls on his back. You slide him back inside, hissing at the returning fullness, and grind down on him with your hands on his chest. He wraps his hands around your thighs, squeezing so hard you're sure you'll find new bruises come morning.

You like watching him from up here. The way his jaw clenches, when his head lolls back in response to whatever you're doing, the way his mouth parts in a semi-attempt to say your name or give you direction - it captivates you. You like when he’s speechless - when he can’t pull himself together long enough to tease you.

The Ghoul can feel your hips stutter when you move, grinding down harder each time for any little extra bit of friction. His thumb finds you clit and presses circles into you relentlessly, letting you use the palm of his hand to find the friction you need.

“Go ahead,” he says, breathless, “come on my cock, babydoll.”

You do, with a hand on his chest and the other hand on his wrist, holding him close and steady. It rolls down your back, down your thighs, all the way out to your fingertips, like the wasteland air burning underneath your skin. Your nails bite into his wrist, and that makes him smile - a real grin, not the smug skeleton grin you’re used to getting from him. You return it.

When the Ghoul comes, he wraps an arm around your back to keep you steady and holds you flush against his chest. You sigh at the touch of his skin against yours, his chest pressed against yours, your nipples prickling against him. You take it as he comes, grinding down on him when he fills you up. You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shoulder, teeth grazing his raw skin.

The usual question of radaway? doesn't come this time. You’re not concerned, and neither is he; the dose you took that morning would still be enough.

The Ghoul scoops you up into his side when he’s come back to his senses and rolls you onto your back. You wrap your arms around him and trail a finger down the back of his neck, just barely scratching at his skin with your nails. He burrows his face into your soft chest (the lack of nose is helpful in this regard) and closes his eyes.

After a few minutes, you say, “You know, I’ve liked you since the first time you walked into my office.”

The Ghoul glances up at you before closing his eyes again. “Can’t imagine why.”

“You were all business,” you reply. “I respect that.”

The Ghoul is quiet for a while, long enough you think he’s gone to sleep, but he answers. “Weird way to tell someone you like ‘em.”

You snort. “I’m trying to be nice, dickhead.”

You can feel him grinning against your skin. “Well, baby, that’s on you.”

You shake your head and roll your eyes. “I’ll kick your ass out of this bed.”

“Sure you will,” he replies. “Just remember that when you roll over and grab me like you did this morning.”

#the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x fem!reader #fallout the ghoul #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x fem!reader #fallout amazon #fallout tv series

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hollowed-theory-hall · 1 month ago

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i have a thought about hinny

so Ginny is obviously pick me (i don't think is bad or good but it's a clear fact in books). so in 5 book she introduces Luna to Harry and Neville and laughs at her. later we see several of their interactions

Luna and Harry become somewhat friends(?) and Harry even invites her to Slughorns' party. in book 7 Ginny tells Harry to go with Luna instead of Cho because she's obviously jealous. i think L is safe-girl for G bc H won't fall in love with her and even more - next to her weirdly behaviour G looks cooler (i love Luna and called her weird from G prospective) and i don't think L and G actually friends, G doesn't seem to have friends or H doesn't really pay attention to so didn't really know her (projecting and obsession whooo)

what do you think about Luna and Ginny so-called friendship and possibly ship?

I'm not a big fan of Linny because I think Luna deserves better.

Again, anyone can ship whatever and this is just how I see the characters and their interactions + my own personal taste.

Like, Ginny definitely thinks there is no chance Harry would like Luna, she doesn't see her as a romantic threat the way she sees Cho. And this leads me to believe Ginny doesn't particularly respect Luna. I mean, Ginny thinks Cho is pretty, good and Quidditch and she likely knows Harry liked her. Luna, on the other hand, even though Harry took her to Slughorn's Party is not seen as a threat because she isn't good at Quidditch or as pretty (probably).

(I mean, Harry tends to be very judgmental of people's looks and he doesn't imply Luna looks bad, just odd due to her accessories mostly. So she probably looks fine. That being said, Harry never calls Ginny "pretty" either, so...

The girl beside the window looked up. She had straggly, waistlength, dirty-blond hair, very pale eyebrows, and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look.

(OotP, 185))

Ginny does introduce Luna as weird and calls her Loony, so, I definitely don't think they were friends pre-OotP.

“What are you talking about?” said Ginny, who had squeezed past Neville to peer into the compartment behind him. “There’s room in this one, there’s only Loony Lovegood in here —” Neville mumbled something about not wanting to disturb anyone. “Don’t be silly,” said Ginny, laughing, “she’s all right.”

(OotP, 185)

Like, how Ginny talks about her doesn't sound friendly. It sounds demining. Like, she makes polite conversation with her, but she seems to think of Luna as lesser. Like, oh, she's alright, she's just there, like an odd accessory. Idk, their conversations never felt anything other than polite to me.

We do see Ginny, Neville, and Luna hang out later in OotP when they stumble on Harry and Co when they're about to head to the ministry, so I think there is some comradery there that grows throughout OotP.

Additionally, Luna does paint Ginny in her mural, but Luna's friend's mural is actually really sad to me. Like, these friendships are more important to her than to the people she drew. Like, out of Hary, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Neville, Harry is the one who has the most respect for Luna. even at the beginning when he thinks she's kinda weird, his thoughts are oddly not judgmental. He thinks she's odd, but it isn't attached to judgmental sass (which Harry's the master of). He doesn't mind she says weird shit and actually references it in other conversations, without really thinking anything negative about Luna. Like, I don't see Ginny ever looking up in a Misoltoe and saying there are probably Nargals in it, something Harry does:

“Mistletoe,” said Luna dreamily, pointing at a large clump of white berries placed almost over Harry’s head. He jumped out from under it. “Good thinking,” said Luna very seriously. “It’s often infested with nargles.” Harry was saved the necessity of asking what nargles were by the arrival of Angelina, Katie, and Alicia. All three of them were breathless and looked very cold.

(OotP, 453)

“Mistletoe,” said Cho quietly, pointing at the ceiling over his head. “Yeah,” said Harry. His mouth was very dry. “It’s probably full of nargles, though.”

(OotP, 456)

Harry doesn't know what Nagrals are, but he doesn't care. He wants to ask Luna what they are and doesn't immediately claim they don't exist the way Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Neville do. Ginny is just not open-minded enough to truly respect Luna and how she sees things and the world.

I think the main reason we think of them as friends is that they don't really hang out enough to blow this image. I mean, in book 7 they do lead what remains of the DA together:

“Well, it got more difficult as time went on,” said Neville. “We lost Luna at Christmas, and Ginny never came back after Easter, and the three of us were sort of the leaders.

(DH, 488)

However, because Ginny doesn't see Luna as a real threat to her relationship with Harry, I think it shows that some of that lack of respect is still there. Like, I believe Ginny, Neville, and Luna grow closer over book 7 due to the circumstances, but I don't see any signs Ginny actually respects Luna as an equal. I think she's alright with her, but looks down on her, and Luna doesn't notice it much due to how desperate she is to have friends.

So, I'm not a fan of Linny because I don't see Ginny really getting Luna, nor does she seem to see her as an equal. And Luna deserves someone who'd be willing to look at the world the way she sees it, or at least be open-minded enough to not think negatively of her for that — neither are things Ginny is.

As for whether Ginny has other friends Harry doesn't notice, I'd say yes and no. Like, she probably has 'friends' of her own she hangs out with and talks to in classes, does homework with and such, but I don't think she has any close friends that she really trusts. I mean, in HBP, when Harry mentions she doesn't usually hang out with them at school, she goes to sit with Dean:

“Fancy trying to find a compartment?” “I can’t, Harry, I said I’d meet Dean,” said Ginny brightly. “See you later.”

(HBP, 136)

Not any friends she hangs out with in classes or does homework with. Her relationship with Dean is relatively new, so he can't be her usual friends.

We also see that when she has real things that concern her and she wants advice for (like getting together with Harry) she asks Hermione:

“I never really gave up on you,” she said. “Not really. I always hoped. . . . Hermione told me to get on with life, maybe go out with some other people, relax a bit around you, because I never used to be able to talk if you were in the room, remember?

(HBP, 647)

You could say it's because Hermione is Harry's friend and therefore would know how to answer best about Harry, but I think she really does lack close friends of her own. I think she gets along well enough with most of Gryffindor, but I wouldn't call most or any of her friendships close. At least, not from what we see.

So, I don't think Ginny and Luna are as close as fanon makes them out to be. I think they only really started hanging out in book 5 (their 4th year) and that Ginny never (at least in the books) really saw Luna as an equal to her (or Hermione for that matter, who she seems to respect more). Like, I can't imagine Ginny ever asking Luna for advice. So I can't really see them as a pairing that works without changing either Ginny's or Luna's personality.

#harry potter #hp #hp meta #asks #hollowedtheory #anonymous #harry potter meta #anti linny #ship talk

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mantequillamcwhoremick · 1 month ago

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Why did you start shipping Bunny? What made you realize their characters had a certain dynamic you enjoyed?

Alright, story time.

My best friend is the one who introduced me to South Park and they started out by showing me select episodes from season 4 and forward, and around the time we were at like season 10ish they informed me what like popular ships exist in the fandom. Namely Creek, Style (I had already seen Tweek x Craig, it was actually the first SP episode I ever watched lmao, and I could kinda see why Style was a thing because they're best friends with lots of moments that CAN be read as romantic), and Kyman (I could also see why it was popular lmao) but when they mentioned Bunny it surprised me. Like these two characters barely/never interact on screen, but my friend just said "Trust, you'll see why later in the show." Instead of waiting to see why later in the show, the idea infested my brain and it clicked anyway.

At first it was just vibes, they seemed sweet and compatible. Let's over-articulate the "vibes" a little further; Keep in mind these are all conclusions I was able to draw about these characters pre season 14 (Pre "Coon & Friends", pre "The Poor Kid" and pre "Going Native".)

These two come from opposite ends of the family trauma spectrum; With Kenny it's neglect, with Butters it's an overly controlled/sheltered environment.

Butters is a yapper, Kenny is a patient listener.

Butters gets cut off/belittled very often for his yapping whereas Kenny isn't one to judge or dismiss.

But Butters isn't the kind of yapper who just likes to hear himself talk; he engages a LOT with whatever someone tells him, and always takes his conversation partner seriously. Kenny is rarely asked for his input, he's rarely ever even referred to directly in a room full of people, but rather just a spectator.

Based on this, I could see Butters rambling to him directly and give importance to Kenny's input and opinions, something we rarely see with anyone else. Funny that this was even confirmed to be true in season 16's "Going Native"

(idk these are just instances that kind of prove to me how Butters values & respects Kenny and his side of things, by either outright saying so or just referring to him in conversation and asking for his input that I rarely see anyone else do. This even gets driven super far in the vaccination special where Kenny is just completely and utterly patronized by his best friends & treated like their child)

So all of these things, without ever even having them seen interact, just made it make sense that these two characters were very compatible in a healthy and sweet way. They both have heavy trauma, but the ways that they cope/express themselves likely wouldn't be triggering for the other. Rather they'd kind of be good for each other to heal; Butters is the least apathetic character in the show, so he wouldn't ever make Kenny feel ignored or neglected. Kenny has seen & lived through enough shit, making him incredibly unprejudiced, he'd never even think to make fun of any of Butters' quirks he's been punished and belittled for.

As I got to the Coon & Friends trilogy and "The Poor Kid" and the whole Kenny lore bomb, something about the two of them being the most tragic characters in the show just kinda fucked my head even worse.

Picking that apart; it was kind of this underlying fact that Butters would believe Kenny about his deaths BECAUSE he's so naïve and gullible. Again, Butters would take Kenny seriously and value his input and emotions, he'd be the ideal person for Kenny to finally relieve some of the burden he's forced to carry alone. Matt and Trey are cowards for not making an episode about this like c'mon seriously it doesn't even need to be romantic

I'm not gonna get further into "Going Native" right now, mostly because the episode speaks for itself, has been probably talked about most in the fandom and kind of confirmed a lot of the things I already assumed about these characters (but if you'd like me to pick it apart feel free to send another ask), so instead I'm gonna tell you why I started going insane over them on a fandom level. Funnily enough, it was the Style-centric fic "The Scenic Route" by Hollycomb.

The coolest thing is Hollycomb actually published The Scenic Route BEFORE "Going Native" aired, and the way that they handled these characters and their relationship still fucking blows my mind. Dude, they're not even the focus of the story. They're a side story. A background ship. I'm not saying the main storyline isn't entertaining lmao but the Bunny background storyline was probably just so much more my taste I think? Especially how imperfect and messed up it started out, continued and went on. It implemented the canon fact that Kenny did kind of just not care about Butters and how his fucked up parents treat him, just like the rest of the town. Like Kenny is kind and all, but he can also be very apathetic and indifferent, and there's lots of instances in canon where the other boys treat Butters like crap and Kenny just watches it happen.

(Episodes: "Good Times With Weapons", "Marjorine", "Cartman Sucks", "Butters' Bottom Bitch" and "The Tale of Scrotie McBoogerballs")

(mind you, they're also just 9 year olds though lmao)

The way Hollycomb wrote how Kenny slowly started caring and falling in love with Butters even though he initially just intended to use him for venting about his own problems just stuck with me so hard. Like yes. That makes so much fucking sense. Kenny needs someone to take him seriously, and he doesn't need that person to be someone he cares about. He picks the easiest person available. But the slow realization that he's started pitying, then caring, and then deeply loving and wanting to help and save this person? That shit hit the SPOT.

Anyways, what I'm saying is that this fanfic was the reason I started thinking about possible ways they could get together and stay together, a lot of them messy and tragic and every bit wholesome as it is entertaining and fucked up. Kenny and Butters' traumatized asses finding comfort in each other is just something that became so special to me. I started out reading & writing Style, but whenever I tried to craft my own fics I'd always be thinking so much about what Kenny & Butters were doing and what their story is until I thought "damn dude why aren't you just writing about them instead". and thus I fell down the rabbit hole. enter chaos plan lol

This is such a tiny part of why I love these characters and why both of them separate AND their dynamic is incredibly comforting and interesting to me, and I haven't even mentioned anything about the many foil/parallel narratives around these two; Kenny & Butters as Kenny's replacement. Mysterion & Chaos. Princess Kenny & Paladin Butters. Philanthropist Dr. McCormick & capitalist scammer Vic Chaos. Especially the last one what the fuck I could write my bachelor thesis on Post Covid Bunny.

Thank you so much for the ask, anon. I'm so happy I got to ramble about my favorite little assholes <3333

#kenny mccormick #sp kenny #butters stotch #sp butters #sp bunny #butters and kenny #kenny x butters #character analysis #lucio yaps #ask

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claws-and-all · 1 month ago

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I've been watching Castlevania recently and developed a little obsession with a boy that has long blonde hair, fangs, and turns into a wolf... hmm... sounds familiar, doesn't it!

My Tamlin obsessed brain can not help but find comparisons between Alucard and him!

Here are a few scenes that reminded me of Tam:

Alucard helps destroy the "villain" of the series and is left all alone. Just like Tamlin after the war with Hybern

Alucard opens his home and heart to people and is betrayed. This reminds me of Feyre darling and the destruction of Spring

Alucard is slowly losing his mind, all alone in his enormous castle. He prepares his own meals and talks to dolls that look like his former friends. It's similar to how I picture Tamlin in spring (minus the dolls lol), hunting for foot, eating in an empty dining hall until he cannot deal with the silence anymore and caves to the beast

Alucard not taking care of his appearance. Like our flea infested (loving) Tamlin

Alucard buries a messenger who died by night creatures. Reminds me of Tamlin burying the blue fairy

In the end, they're both sad boys who take after their mother whilst their father terrorizes the world. They find friends and love and then lose it. Alucard is in a much better place now, and I hope one day, Tamlin gets there, too. But either way, they both need a big hug for what they've endured 😭🥺

#tamlin #pro tamlin #acotar #since the moment he appeared I was like 👀 Tamlin?!#i love them both so much!

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paulbigdanceman · 4 months ago

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stupid termites they're infesting my mind get out get out!!!

#clash to be champion #clash 2 be champion #osc #object shows #the brainrot is real #happy pride 🌈

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kgetb · 5 months ago

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I like shiny things *⁠.⁠✧, but I'd marry you with paper rings ! ||>> Blaize Zabini

song to listen to : Paper Rings (Taylor Swift)

summary : The thought of Marriage seems to already peek Y/n's interests, as she talks about how much she's looking forward into her Married Life, with her husband, and Kids. Blaise pretends not to care, as he concentrates on folding... paper?

established relationship, fluf, literally around 10% of reader's yapping‼️

lover masterlist ! ♡

⤷ : : YANNA'S MAP .. : :

A usual day at Hogwarts, wherein Blaise has to endure Y/n's holy mother of yap about a random topic, again. not that he was complaining though... It was adorable watching her express what was on her mind, every day. It was interesting to say the least, And for what Y/n chose to talk about today was... marriage.

“I just can't wait when I finally graduate, and get married! I wonder what it'd be like!” Y/n chirped excitedly, in her own little world as she yapped to her boyfriend, Blaise Zabini about how excited she was to get married. Hell, they were still in their 6th year!

“Ugh.. like I can just imagine my wedding dress, and the cake.. ooh! and my bridesmaids! Definitely gonna be my bestest friends, of course!” She stated excitedly, with a huge grin plastered on her adoring face.

Blaise nodded nonchalantly, remaining quiet while focusing on folding the piece of paper in a ring shape. An origami heart that serves as the small little crown on the ring.

“Ooh! I also cannot wait to have children, they're so cute! Blaise, have you met my younger sister? I told you about her, right? she's the absolute cutest!” Y/n continued, empathizing the word 'cannot'. She kicked her legs forward, then backwards repeatedly. Making hand gestures as she talks.

She paused, and sat in silence for a few minutes, her puffy cheeks warming up at the thought of her and Blaise... actually having children. She shook the thought away, and leaned back on the chair she sat on. Then there she realized.. Blaise has been oddly.. quiet

As Y/n sat in silence, Blaise finished folding what looks like a Paper Ring.. It was a little bit wrinkled by the many failed attempts. but other than that, it was pretty, and adorable.

“Blaise? What're you doin'?”The girl piped up with a confused tone, and one eyebrow raised at Blaize's hand that hid behind his back with his lips curving upwards

“Close your eyes, milove.” Blaise spoke softly, while he tried his best to stifle a chuckle. Y/n complied by closing her eyes, Blaisw then stood up from the couch Infront of her, and slowly got down on one knee..

Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed at all the shuffling, yet her eyes remained closed until Blaise told her to open them. “You can open your eyes now, Y/n..” Blaise once again used the soft, and the ever sogentle tone he used only ever with Y/n.

Y/n slowly opened her eyes, and was immediately met with the sight of Blaise on one knee, smiling at her while laughing. He held up the Origami Paper Ring that he spent literally the whole day folding, as he spoke such words... “Y/n Y/L/n, Will you marry me?”

He jokingly proposed with a sarcastic, and also serious manner, and the sight, along with Blaise's words had Y/n’s stomach infested with butterflies. Even if they were both just messing around

She let out a dramatic gasp, placing a hand on her mouth, as she slowly nodded. the teenagers both giggled at the same time, Blaise slipped the Paper ring easily on Y/n’s ring finger, as if it's actually made for her..

“I thought you weren't listening!” Y/n let out a huff, as her lips curved downwards into a frown. Then, wrapped her arms around Blaise's neck. As they shared a tender kiss, filled with nothing but affection, and love for one another.

The kiss lasted for a few more seconds, before the two broke it. Blaise looked at Y/n, admiring all of her features that made up.. her. What Y/n saw as her imperfections, was the most perfect to Blaize. Everything about her, was perfect.

“Of course I was listening, I want to fulfill whatever dream you have, milove. As it is the only way I could ever show my undying appreciation, and love for you. I love you, forever. Y/n.” Blaise caressed her cheek with his thumb, as his other hand caressed Y/n’s hand which wore the Paper ring perfectly on the ring finger.

His smile was full of adoration towards his girlfriend, and also, his soon to-be wife, and most especially the mother of his future kids..

“I love you too, Blaise. soso much.” Y/n whispered fondly, both of their words. genuine and looked at Blaise with the same devoted look he gave her. Both of them already sure, of how their future will unfold. With them, still together, both with a ring that identifies their loyalty, and times spent together. Along with the family they will built, out of the passionate moments they've shared.

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