#mouse euphoria

[nezumiicraft]

if i was a ratmouse i would live in somebodys house and they would try to kill me and fail because i am to smart and small and they would fall in love with me

[memekeymouse]

I saw that anon’s ask of his girl mickey dream and it made me wonder, would the toon meta au be affected if Mickey was female and if it does, how would the universe change ( will she be treated different or something like that ) or will nothing changes at all. ( it’s a question nobody asked for but it’s a fun what if. )

Hmmmmmm

Considering how sexist the 30’s were, I don’t think female Mickey would’ve existed anyway. I mean yeah, I know there’s Betty Boop but she’s pretty much the only example of a female lead toon I can think of and well…..she didn’t make it very far either if we’re being honest :(

But let’s say she’s a girl anyways; it would definitely affect things in the toon meta, and not necessarily just because of historically accurate sexism. I’ve not had the chance to go deeply into it, but I think Minnie’s deepest fear would be to be discarded after not accomplishing anything because: who cares about the love interests? Unlike the lead toons, they can be replaced and people probably won’t care. That definitely put a strain in her relationship with Mickey at first; they were sweethearts on the silver screen since the beginning, but not for real until years later and that was a reason why. Plane Crazy was a rough start for the two of them, to say the least.

And Mickey? He loves her, and he proves that later on, but he can’t understand her fear - at least not completely - and he never will; same way she can’t understand his fear of failure as a protagonist - because they’ve got different roles. But with fem!Mickey….I think she would understand that fear a lot better, and it would probably save them a lot of misunderstandings along the way.

I’m…sometimes not the best at articulating my ramblings so sorry if I didn’t explain myself very well

[nightfeellings]

rewatching the second season of Euphoria & i realized...

why would the cops give a fuck about mouse and who killed him? why would they care about cal’s weird past & videos? cops don’t ever care about shit

[m-archived]

it's (almost) midnight thoughts time with arieeeesss. and i'm just thinking about how so many people like to incorrectly interpret john as being intentionally evil when i believe his intentions were very truly pure. yes, those intentions got warped by others (the angel and beverly, to be exact), but he wanted nothing more than a second chance — not only for himself and for millie, but for the entire island. he brought the angel to the island with the intent to save everyone, as he had been saved; he had no idea what he would turn into in the weeks to come. and when that did happen, he was desperate to make it make sense in his mind, in his faith; if it's a blessing from god, then it's a small price to pay for eternal youth and another chance at life. he did not bring the angel to crockett with intentions of being a cult leader, or with the idea that he was the second coming of jesus christ, or any of that. he brought the angel to the island to save his community — the people who'd been the closest thing to a family that he'd had in all of his years of priesthood.

[species-euphoria-culture-is]

mouse euphoria is turning the heat off and curling up in a nest made of sheets and pillows.

.

[administer-distractions]

.

[mzenins]

❛ gloria, i wanna take you to euphoria ! ❜ ✶ ࣪˖࿐ * sakadays multi characters

꒰ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ──── contents: suggestive, gn reader, making out, spitting, dry humping, hickeys┆ `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ how they kiss you…

꒰ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ──── featured on this disc: yoichi nagumo, natsuki seba, shin asakura

╰⪼┆nagumo kisses you like you’re both in a constant game of cat and mouse. it’s competitive and intoxicating with a strong surge of adrenaline bustling through your veins but oftentimes it’s fleeting.

he allows for his bottom lip to gently graze yours then retracts himself from your vicinity with the mere purpose of seeing the dazed look on your face that was anticipating more. he enjoys the shocked gasp and reprimand that comes from you, followed by a murmur of “dickhead.” which he classically retorts with, “hey, that’s not nice!��

the roles switches up constantly, something he indulges in, but a sick part of him can’t help but bask in the sight of you desperately grinding down on his clothed crotch with your forehead littered by sweat as you incoherently rasp in his ear for him to kiss you harder. his mouth twists up in a sadistic manner against the column of your neck, “hm? want more neck kisses?” he feigns innocence.

his playing dumb act grinds your gears to the fullest and makes you want to choke him out till your heart’s content but he’d probably brush off your actions with a snippy comeback.

you loudly groan in frustration and his eyebrows pull up at your outburst, your hips halt against his pelvis, “god, do i have to spell everything out for you?” you grab a fist full of his noir hair to perfectly align his head with your face, “kiss me properly, nagumo.. on the lips.”

he likes seeing you all riled up. he tauntingly smirks, “ah! you should’ve just asked, silly.” before you can argue on that’s what you were doing in the first place, he encloses the space, humming contently. your lips moves together in sync, rapidly harmonizing in a sensual way. his tattooed hands slip under your shirt caressing the bare skin but the small delight comes to a pause once he uses his teeth to gently pull at your bottom lip, teasingly letting it go out from his hold. he drily chuckles at you chasing after his lips for more.

╰⪼┆natsuki kisses you like a pornstar in love. it’s lewd but intimate, igniting an untamed flame in the pit of your stomach, rapidly flickering waiting to be extinguished, but your heart beats erratically against your chest with warmth blooming around the organ.

it can be messy at times with his saliva smearing onto your chin and drippling off, or, it can be sweet and memorable leaving you smitten with butterflies for the rest of the day; pick your poison, he doesn’t mind either way.

he likes to sneak up on you— at first it was an occasional habit he’d done unintentionally but now he uses his airy footsteps to his advantage. slithering his toned arm around your stomach to pull you closer to his broad chest and grips at your jaw with his calloused hand to tilt your head upwards to somewhat face him

“open your mouth.” he calmly instructs, as if what he planned to do next was just a run-on-the-mill activity. you comply and suddenly feel a warm droplet of spit land onto your tongue, your eyes widens and before a squeal could erupt from your throat he captures your lips with his.

natsuki pants heavily against your mouth his hot tongue hastily collides with yours as he subconsciously begins to rut himself into your figure, his eyebrows deeply furrows together. his lips are soft on yours but has intensity far too hot to handle. “s-slow down natsu…” your meek voice trembles in between the heated kisses.

his usual nonchalant complacence crumbles apart. his plump lips glistens once he pulls away, a small string of saliva connecting the two of you. “can’t. sorry. you just taste so damn good.” some darken strands of hair stick to his forehead; he’s dizzy but pushes through to quench his thirst.

╰⪼┆shin kisses you like he’s almost afraid of you. he’s not and he swears by it but the way his body stiffens with his shoulders nearing his ears and rigid lips stilled has you thinking the former. he touches you as if you’re a porcelain doll glossed over with iridescent medium, and that sometimes translates into his fear of messing up.

he gets in his head a lot and stays there. but as the relationship progresses, he gains his confidence within his abilities to please you and once that layer of skin grows, that’s all he dedicates himself to. he’s rough which causes teeth to clash but he’s also sweetly passionate with his movements.

an extremely slow day at sakamoto’s store leads to you on top of the store counter with him between your legs. he disregards the opportunity to flip over the closed sign— the thought of being caught fuelled something dubious inside of him.

his large palms roam from your thighs to grazing over your chest eliciting a choked up gasp from you. he’d become too cocky, perhaps for his own good. his lips moved with delicious vigour against yours, slowly increasing the tempo with every passing second. soft grunts and huffs comes from the blond mixed in with your panting.

“is this too much?” he asked as he departs from your space with antsy eyes. you whine restlessly, “it’s not enough.” you tug at the belt loops of his baggy jeans, pulling him back in your vicinity and his face plants in the crock of your neck instead. suckling and nipping at the delicate skin and swirling his tongue around the area. your whimpers fills his ears like a lullaby.

eventually, his ministrations cause a darken bruise to appear. he ogles at the sight that encourages him to continue but an unfamiliar intruding thought enters his mind. a customer outside was planning on coming in and purchasing pockys. and while shin knows it would be morally ethical to put a stop to your activities, he can’t find the strength to do so. he’s completely and utterly drunk off by your smell and touch; what a bad influence you are.

© mzenins, all rights reserved … feedback is welcomed.

[your-nanas-house]

yes, please Joe Goldberg fanfics??? walking in on Joe disposing of a body and he's gotta convince you not to go to the police (maybe with a lil sexy time) but then he black mails you into helping him hide it

Yess! Thanks for requesting 🙏

Dead silent

◇ Pairing: Joe Goldberg X fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, Joe's POV, dead body, he fucks her against a tree, just JOE.... bit dark?, mention of alchol, age gap (both off age)

◇ Summary: Joe is trying to hide a body when Y/n sees him.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. This is my first Joe fic using his POV. Still experimenting... so I hope it's not so shitty. Let me know if it's better in third person.

There is something extraordinarily peaceful about an evening outside the city, clear skies and stars that shine away from the smog.

If it wasn't for the dead body lying in front of me, I could call it almost romantic.

The feeling of the shovel penetrate the dirt and the warmth of the summer breeze makes it seem intimate in some way. And then... there's you.

I heard your footsteps, you had me fooled for a moment, making me believe it was just an animal but no. I can feel your eyes on me and I know our eyes would meet as soon as I will turn around.

There you are, as silent as a mouse, shaking like a leaf. You're holding your breath but I noticed you. I honestly feel sorry about it, you shouldn't have seen any of this.

I raise my eyes and finally meet yours. Are you scared or just tipsy?

I smile.

"It's not what it looks like"

Seriously Joe? It's not what it looks like.. that's the first thing that comes to your mind while a fucking dead body is at your own feet? Pathetic. Now you scared her even more. Great job, Joe!

You're quiet so I talk again. A poor attempt to not make you freak out even more.

"You really shouldn't have see it... don't try to run, please. Don't make things harder than they already are— Let me explain"

I raise my hands, holding them in view as I carefully approach you. What are you doing here all alone? Short black skirt, a blouse, stockings and high heels... who in their right mind would wear heels here?

"I know this all looks bad and I understand that you're scared. It will sounds mad but please, listen to me... Have you ever been in a situation where you did something you never thought you'd do? Something that, if you explained it to someone, would sound wrong, so so wrong... but you knew it was right?"

You aren't running away, that's a good thing. But why? Is it because you're scared? Sick? Maybe you like it.... you have some perversion? Why would a young woman like you be in an insolated place dressed like that and not running or screaming yet? Maybe you're one of those girls that read filthy fanfictions on the internt instead of a good book... and just dream about being banged somewhere by the bad guy.

I'm not the bad guy, though. I'm the good one but I guess I can go along with your fantasy.

You don't move so I take it as a consent to step closer.

With a quick motion I have you pinned against a tree, your breath is shallow but you don't move. You let me continue without arguments. You like it.... you long for it and I'm gonna give him.

The wetness against my fingertips speaks more than a thousands of words, your soft whimpers just add to the whole perverted scenario you made me start.

Fuck... I don't even know your name but I wanna make sure you moan mine.

Say Joe, just moan my fucking name, please. I can feel my release approach, your warm cunt squeezing me nearly to death. Damn, I love pussy....

"Ah— fuck, I'm Joe"

I would have mentally slapped myself for the way I just introduced myself... if I wasn't balls deep inside a cunt. But I don't care, the warmth, the wetness, your noises and fuck... I pull quickly out to shoot my release on your bare ass and you moan my name. Poetry.

I feel the urge to kiss you, scream out loud the euphoria I feel but I won't. You would get scared and look at me as a sicko. But I'm not... it has been just too long since I last fucked.

Sadly the buzzing feeling of my orgasm didn't last much and as I put my softened cock back in my pants I finally realize where I am and why I fucked you in the first place.

I need to get ride of the body and.... I think you're going to help me.

"We need to bury it. I nearly finished to dig so we just need to pick it up and hide it"

I inform you, my eyes watching your face for any reaction. You look pretty all flushed and breathless; I can still smell our juices from here but it won't distract me. No.

Luckily you're a smart girl, I didn't even need to threat you or force you. You are intelligent enough to understand that you don't have much choice. So you help me.

And I can assure you that this kind of things are faster done in two than on your own. Thank you for your help...

"What's your name?"

You answer, saying just your first name and.... Oh— I like your shaky voice, your name, you. Thank you for your help, Y/n. I'm pretty sure we will see each other again sooner or later.

I know you won't go to the police, you're in it too now.

[classyruinsbarbarian]

I know I have something but I forgot uhhhhh wait a second

oh right bazaars (it will take me years to explain this, but specifically muslim ones)

just being there brings me joy (and places similar to trading centers too for some reason)

Im bored, so i want to hear every therian/otherkin weirdest thing that gives them species euphoria. And i dont mean “i love building nests as a bird therian”. Nah i wanna hear the most wild crazy and almost none related thing that gives you species euphoria

[crowsofdarkness]

The Winter Soldier wants you to ride his knife.

a/n: heads up, this is very dark content. dark content like this works well with the winter soldier. if this is not your cup of tea, that's okay! you do not need to read it. protect yourself first, always.

18+ CW's below the cut(soldat using his knife on you, language, mean!soldat, degradation)

My spine stiffened when I felt cool metal replaced his cock and when it pushed inside of me, I let out a strangled cry. 

“I want your tight cunt to fuck my knife. Understood?” Soldat's teeth grazed over the shell of my ear. 

“Yes sir,” I rasped. 

I should be scared, terrified even, but the idea of fucking something other than a dildo or a dick excited me. 

My walls clenched around the handle of the knife as he forced it in and out of me, slow at first so he could figure out a pace that worked best but then without warning, his pace picked up until he was roughly fucking me with the handle. I spat out dirt and leaves while letting out a cry of euphoria.

Soldat and I had been running through the woods in our nightly training sessions but wanted to make it more exciting. He'd been wearing the mask, us playing a game of cat and mouse. When he caught me, he practically tackled me to the ground.

The handle of his knife was smaller than a dick but with the force of it slamming in and out of me, it was just enough to light the fire low in my gut and made the base of my spine buzz with the familiar feeling. My orgasm was building like a tidal wave, ready to crash into the shore and taking whoever in its path. 

“I’m so close,” I panted as my body writhed underneath the weight of Soldat as he leaned over me, still fucking me with the knife handle. 

“You’re so fucking wet. You're such a whore for my knife. The way you sound while I fuck you with it is making my cock so hard,” he groaned when he leaned back and gazed down at the knife settling in between my legs. 

“Don’t stop. Please,” I begged, whining when he pulled the knife out completely. 

I was then faced with its slick handle in front of me and I nearly gasped when I saw my arousal dripping from it onto the ground. 

“Lick it clean,” his gruff voice ordered me, distorted by his mask.

“What if I cut myself?” I gave way to my worry if I licked it too far and sliced my tongue on the sharp blade. 

Soldat brushed away the strands of hair full of dirt away from my face before I felt his warm breath against my cheek. 

“I’ll make sure you won’t,” the sincerity in his voice made something flutter low in my gut. 

My eyes flicked over to him as he leaned over my shoulder and gone was the darkness that lay inside of them. A light broke through and it was at that moment I noticed they were a mahogany color. All I could see was his eyes, his mask covering the bottom half of his face. That’s all I needed to know that he was breathtakingly gorgeous. 

Ever so slowly, he pressed the handle of the knife between my lips and I tasted the bittersweet taste of my arousal, humming in pleasure. 

“I bet you taste so fucking good,” Soldat sighed, almost disappointed that he wasn’t able to taste me himself. 

Soon, those dark eyes promised.

[yandere-sins]

Yan-Poll #32

It only took a few months, but you were finally free.

Gripping the reigns of the stead galloping beneath you tighter, you couldn't hold back the tears as you realized it. Realized that you finally did it. The road leading to your escape had been cut off so many times. So many people put stones in your way and built walls you had to escape. But finally—finally—you were rid of them.

No more sitting quietly on a throne too big for a province noble like you. No more watching your husband behead his own officials because they looked at you. A shuddering breath escaped you as you realized you wouldn't wake up to his piercing red eyes watching you sleep anymore or to the unwelcome touch of his hands that always felt like they were blood-soaked.

You would no longer be a doll he could admire. He could disgrace in front of his court as if you wouldn't suffer from the shame and embarrassment his actions brought over you. Undoubtedly, he loved you, but this love was not the one your maid read you stories about as a child. It was crushing to your soul, poisoning your very being until you were only a shell of your former self.

But no longer.

As long as you kept riding, you'd get away from him. And once your horse could no longer run, you simply had to walk on your own—as you would from now on. Being a runaway beggar would be better than being the spouse of a mad king, no matter what you had to do. You'd live quietly as a mouse, far away from the golden cage that was his castle, and live by your own free will only.

Tearing through the forest, your surroundings melted into each other. Green, brown, black, it was all the same as you let the horse choose the way. It didn't matter where it went as long as it didn't take you back. There was no place you called home, not the one you grew up in nor the one you married into. So anywhere was fine, absolutely anywhere.

You would have taken the pest-ridden bed of a woodsman over any soft, silken mattress. Over the shackles that bound you to it and the king that suffocated you in the countless pillows. And now that you got away, you'd take what you could get, never judging it like you had been judged from morning to night by everyone who scrutinized your status as you were forced into this marriage.

And with your newfound euphoria, you galloped on, feeling always a step ahead of him. Anyone, really, but especially him. The king was cruel, ruthless, cold. Not to you... not always. He held you your whole wedding long when you couldn't stop crying from fear. He got rid of those who mocked you openly. He listened when you told him about yourself and gave you whatever you desired. Certainly, he had his bad days. The ones where he was angry at the world, and you were the comfort he needed. Or those where he was too proud of owning you, so he forced you to do things you didn't want. He might have been the king, but he shouldn't have done everything he desired—at least not to you.

Perhaps that's why your fall hit your head so much harder. The horse he gifted you, a beautiful stead, neighing as it crashed to the ground. One second, you were up in the air; the next, your head hit the dirt. Your thoughts were spinning relentlessly, reminding you of the first time your husband almost choked you to death. No clear idea of what was happening, where you were, and what to do now could take root.

But your instincts still worked.

So you ignored all the warning signs—the stumbling, the blood dripping down your face, the pain in your muscles—and ran. Ran like your life depended on it, which it did.

"Stop!" you heard behind you, and you would have known the voice in a crowd of hundreds. The king didn't like insubordination. He didn't like sharing his toys. And he would not give up on you that easily.

It made you run faster if anything.

But as you dashed through the forest, blinded by your need to get away, your luck seemed to run out, too. In the thicket, you were concealed. Between the trees, you could hide. Not so much in a clearing, one lit up by the sun and barely covered by grass. That's where you found yourself when your body finally gave out. Tumbling to the ground, your bones ached as your arms tried to cushion the fall.

At some point, anyone has to admit defeat. But it was hard. So, so hard for you. Your conscience was wrecked by guilt for your stead that you left behind, and your body shivered, fear-stricken in anticipation of the punishment you would receive. What was the point of running away when he caught up so fast? Why did you even try?

"You seem troubled. Come here, let me help you."

Forcing your head up, you had to blink away the tears first before you could see. Everything before you was a bright shimmer of something you couldn't discern, but even when your vision cleared, you thought you must have hit your head very hard after all.

Something, a creature perhaps, approached you steadily. Calm demeanor, a proud posture. It looked like a man, yet it appeared more like an angel. His eyes seemed like an endless starry sky, while his hair flowed in the air like waves across the sea. He held out his hand for you as if to offer help, giving you an unlikely hope in these dark times that seemed to swallow you.

But there was also something strange about him. You thought he was coming to help you, but the hand never reached closer. He expected you to come to him, opening his arms for you, but didn't attempt to approach your sorry form.

"Do not listen to it," a stern voice rang out, the clanking of armor shaking you out of the trance. "Don't even think about going there, it will only take advantage of you."

That was enough to get you back on your feet with what little strength you still had. The man you were running from emerged from the darkness of the woods, drawing his blade with the same sickening sound of metal scrapping that instilled fear in you back at the castle. You didn't even know who he was drawing his sword for, but it couldn't mean anything good.

However, your husband wasn't looking at you. If anything, his anger seemed to be dedicated at the man whose expression turned into pity as he never looked away from you.

"How cruel. You poor thing, I can help you," he offered softly, shaking his hand. You looked at it for a long time, feeling yourself pulled in as if a thread was binding you both together. Only when you forced yourself to focus did you notice the ring of mushrooms around the man's... fae's feet.

"It won't help you, it will harm you. Get. Away. Now."

You shuddered at your husband's command, his footsteps approaching faster and faster. One more chance. There was one more chance right in front of you. But at what risk? What would you have to pay?

(Reasoning and discussions welcome! ♥)

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING DEVOURED !!! JENSON B. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: oh it’s just— you know… jenson was a starved man after their date.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), did not proofread this, made this thirty minutes ago, use of explicit language, pwp, pussy drunk!jenson (!!!), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, squirting + overstimulation, little praise kink, terms of endearment, blurb

note: y’all wrong asf for pushing me back into the jenson button rabbit hole 😭 now i’m here (s)creaming. enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

to some, stripping the other person off while you remain dressed was considered unfair. 

it was a good thing that jenson button wasn’t just “some” person. in fact, he couldn’t care enough whether he was dressed or if his shirt’s buttons were half done. 

he couldn’t find himself to care about the state of his greying blonde hair. he couldn’t care less about the liquid that trickled down his stubbles. 

not when he was on his stomach, lapping up on her throbbing cunt as he moaned incoherently. her hand grabbing onto the back of his head as if she was trying to pull away. he wasn’t about to have that. 

she looked so good on their date, he could admit. but after she played footsies with him while she whispered the filthiest words in his ear about not wearing any knickers under her dress, he couldn’t stop himself from paying the check and pulling her out of the restaurant. 

he just had to have her. he wanted to devour her. he wanted to taste her after they both played cat and mouse for months.

she merely welcomed his lust with open arms— or well, with open legs. 

now here she was, crying with tears falling as she babbled about feeling too much.

too much orgasms had passed by and he still wouldn’t stop lapping up at her clit and tongue fucking her entrance. she felt overstimulated— all from his mouth. 

“god you taste so good, darling,” he murmured as he continued eating her out, his cock stiff in his pants as his hips rutted against the mattress. 

“jenson, ‘m gonna—“ she sobbed. “fuck~ ‘s too much!” 

he hummed around her clit, vibration sending her mind to spiral as he praised her, “you’re doin’ so good f’me, baby. stay still.” 

“m— hm, ah,” she cried out, her legs shaking and wanting to close around jenson’s head. yet she persisted, not wanting to suffocate the man as her heels dug against the mattress. “fuck! jenson, i’m cumming again—“

“yeah? you’re cumming again, baby?” he growled against her mound, his fingers sliding up and down against the lips of her cunt before he began fucking her with them.

he curled his fingers and massaged the sensitive spot inside her, his lips wrapped around her clit as he continued to massage it with his tongue. 

“so good, so good,” she mumbled as her eyes rolled back, her body convulsing as she whined loudly. “jenson, ‘m cumming! fuck! hah~ fuck~”

“let go for me, baby,” the sounds of squelching filled the room as he began to finger fuck her faster, his head pulling away from her cunt as his eyes brightened at the sight of liquid shooting out of her. she just squirted again. for the third time. 

he let out a deep chuckle as she eased off her orgasm, her body calming down as he finally pulled his fingers out of her. 

liquid dripped down his fingers as he sucked them dry, letting out a sigh of satisfaction as his lust blown pupils peered down at her.

he kissed her hard, tongue tangling with hers as she moaned quietly. “d’ya taste yourself, sweetheart?” he smiled, “so good, no?” 

“mhm,” she murmured. “so good.” she wasn’t referring to herself, but rather the euphoria that she felt from being devoured for three hours straight.

“don’t worry sweetheart,” he chuckled again before his hand slid down to unbuckle his pants, “gonna make sure you’re gonna cum in my cock too. i’m pretty sure you can handle it, my darling.” 

[muzansslxt]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

tartilgaxreader

summary: Childe grows tired of your avoidance towards him and decides to teach you a lesson ;)

warnings: mature themes, MINORS DNI

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

You had been avoiding Childe like an illness all week and oh was he fucking pissed about it.

But finally, by the grace of the gods themselves it seemed, you agreed to come over.

Maybe you were nervous to see Childe, whatever it was he had grown tired of the cat and mouse game.

He wanted you now, wanted you so fucking bad he could practically taste your cunny on his tounge.

And there you were in his home, finally.

Fuck.

He knew it was wrong, knew it was so wrong but did he care? No. No he fucking didn’t.

That’s why he had you pressed into his mattress, ass up while he mercilessly plunging his thick length into your greedy cunt.

One hand had a firm grip on your hair, shoving your face into his pillows harshly.

The other was tugging and playing with your puffy clit, already sore and aching from his brutal treatment.

Your lungs were screaming for air, the pillow blocking your mouth, muffled moans and crys danced to his ears and he grunted in satisfaction.

“You fucking bitch..hah..thinkin you can play around with me? Huh?” He sneered, his tip bullying itself against your cervix.

Your vision was getting spotty, no matter how loud you tried to scream it wasn’t loud enough.

Suddenly he pulled your body flush against his chest, you gasped and nearly chocked on the sudden rush of oxygen that filled your lungs.

Tears were already rushing down your cheeks, a sob wrenched out of your mouth and you swore you felt him get harder inside of you.

“Please s-stop.” You whimpered, a hoarse cry leaving your lips and he slapped your clit.

You flinched, trying to curl in on yourself but Childe had moved his hand to the base of your throat and squeezed warningly.

He shushed you with a gentle tone but picked up his pace, balls slapping your sweat soaked skin and his hold on your neck tightening ever so slightly.

“Please.” You tried again, sobbing uncontrollably as your insides felt like they were on fire, your tits bounced in rhythm with his thrusts.

“You brought this on yourself y/n. I’m a patient man but you’ve played one to many games with me.” He growled lowly in your ear.

Your body began to feel tingly, your skin crawling with the building euphoria that pooled in your lower tummy.

You were so close and Childe knew it.

Your insides began to hug around his length tightly, each of your slippery rings holding his cock hostage inside of you made his balls swell with an undeniable urge to cum.

“M’sorry.” You managed to mewl out, drool began pooling outside of your mouth but the blissful pleasure hitting your body sweetly made you care less.

Childe rumbled a low chuckle through his chest which vibrated against your back deliciously, it felt as though every nerve through out your body was burning for release.

“So close..” You managed to whisper as Childes pace grew slower, and slower.

“Oh really?” He cooed in a teasing tone, his teeth grazing along your shoulder before placing a small kiss on the crook of your neck.

You nod pleadingly while your cunt began to throb in an almost painful manner, silently screaming at you for its release.

“You hurt my feelings y/n, I’ve missed you this whole week and you continued to avoid me. You wound me you know, why would you hide from me?” He murmured while running his hands over your breasts, nipples hard as rocks under his warm fingers.

A shiver ran through your body as you felt his cock rub along your swollen bundle of nerves.

Your mind was clouded with lust and a fiery need for Childes length plunging back into your dripping cunny.

“I w-was busy with training, and I’ve just been so tired. I didn’t want to disappoint you.” You whimpered back softly.

Childe was silent for a moment, his lips pressed gently to your neck before trailing over your shoulders.

“You could never disappoint me.” He murmured while his warm hands glided down to your waist.

His lips continued to pepper your skin softly before his cock abruptly slammed its way inside of you.

A fiery pain coursed through your vains, making you cry out in such a sweet manner it nearly made Childe cum.

“Although you could never disappoint me y/n, I do enjoy thoroughly punishing you.” He growled lowly as he began to rut himself deep in the warm embrace of your cunny.

“Baby- Please- h-ho fuck.” You whined out, the knot in your tummy burned deliciously as Childe continued to grip your hips tightly, his eyes glued to the lewd expressions your face made.

“Touch yourself for me.” He cooed lowly, leaning his head down so he could be even closer to you. His pace had grown sloppy and you knew he was ready to burst.

Your hand shyly traveled between your legs to the sweet bundle of nerves that practically begged to be touched, rubbing your clit in gentle circles your breath quickened.

“Look at me when you cum y/n.” He groaned while sweat began beading along his ginger hairline, the sight was enough for you to arch up into him and release around his length.

“Oh gods.” You breathed as pure euphoria ripped through your body, your face was enough to send Childe over the edge, who promptly dumped his seed deep inside of you.

All was quiet for a moment except the both of your laboured breaths filling the room, your body tingled sweetly as you turned your head to look at your lover.

Childe smirked at you for a moment before reaching his hand over your waist to pull you flush against his own body “We’re not done yet y/n.” He purred lowly, hand already reaching for your overstimulated cunny.

“Your punishments just getting started~”

[transformers-spike]

AH IM SO SORRY. TY FOR LETTING ME KNOW THO, IM THE ONE THAT ASKED FOR THE TFP MEG X CYBERTRONIAN😭🙏

BUT YES IM FINE WITH OMEGAVERSE HUMAN HEAT CYCLE OR WTV ITS CALLED. TY🥹💕💕💕

No prob fam, I had fun making this because holy fuck I haven't been able to write anything wholesome with TFP Megatron in a long time.

You are a precious thing, gazing up at him with naive trust. What started off as a temporary experiment has turned into a unique pet project. Useless to the Decepticon cause, yet irreplaceable to him. You quietly sit in his lap during meetings, arching your back to meet the digit petting your helm as his commanders avert their optics from your tiny frame. The presence of his beloved pet on the Nemesis is disquieting to his troops, and he delights in their discomfort, savoring the jitters of their EM fields whenever they catch sight of you. Recently however, the soft pulse of unease has turned into a low but intrusive buzzing. The sweet smell of your arousal is unlike anything he’s ever experienced. In two meager cycles you've become a quivering mess, loins begging for friction. There's no denying it, you've reached your reproductive cycle. When he brushes a digit over your cheek, you're burning with desire, sheepishly avoiding his gaze as you struggle to contain your eagerness and avoid rubbing up against his servo.

Is this why the Autobots are fond of humanity? To indulge their sweet heat cycles? How many human mates has Optimus taken for himself? It seems as though their motives to protect the natives were never altruistic, much less noble.

When he strokes the wetness between your legs, you buck into him, euphoria carved into your soft features. He entertains your instincts, holds you down and frags you with a digit until you overload. The sounds you make are to offline for. He decides at that very moment you are worth the energon he's about to waste.

Mass displacement has seen its uses during the war, but the drawbacks among a shortening supply of energon has rendered it volatile and thoughtlessly wasteful. Yet, under these circumstances it proves more than necessary.

You are no Cybertronian, but the softness of your flesh renders your differences obsolete. The transfluid welcoming his spike sends a wave of charge down his spinal struts. You grip his servo, desperate for more than you can take.

“Eager for my spike, pet?” he purrs as he nuzzles your neck.

Your scent is endurable for his species, but he cannot deny its intoxicating properties. How many other humans have you mated with? He cannot imagine anyone resisting the sweetness of your loins. Your entrance struggles to take a spike of his size, and yet it swallows him with an eagerness he cannot bear to lose. It makes his spark radiate with pride.

The adoration in your optics sends a new jolt of charge to his member. You cup his face in your servos and kiss him harshly, scrambling to satisfy your all-consuming hunger, his sharp denta dangerously close to your lips.

He frags you slow and steady, savoring the noises you make as you desperately cling onto his frame, digits finding seams in his plating and burying themselves in the soft mesh of his protoform. A hiss loosens from his vocalizer, optics narrowing as the charge breaches his limits It takes all the entirety of his self-control to stop himself from destroying your poor human interface. Still, he frags you like never before, hard and fast, slamming his hips into you with enough force to bruise. You cry out, hardly an innocent party, clenching around him until your little body is full of his transfluid. When he pulls back, you’re shaking under him like a glitch mouse caught between a cybercat’s paws. It’s enough to pull the scarred corners of his lips into a smile. He reaches out a servo to languidly stroke your cheek, and he allows you to grab hold of it and place a tender kiss to his palm. His spike twitches inside of you, transfluid pooling between your legs. And yet, you haven’t stopped bucking against him. A squeak escapes your voice box when he wrenches you against him and buries himself up to the hilt. Evidently, one round isn’t enough for your kind; humans are no better than beasts in heat. But if you want to be bred, who is he to refuse? You grip onto him as though the Nemesis is about to crash.

On a purely biological level, you are completely incompatible. And yet, it doesn’t stop him from craving something more. A hypothetical seed he yearns to plant inside of your frame, one you will carry graciously, for you have lent him your very being.

Overload after overload, he has left you a shivering mess, servos balled up into fists as you fruitlessly attempt to steady your tremors. He smiles against your neck, servo forcefully keeping your thighs spread while his digits scoop up stray transfluid and stuff it back into your insatiable body.

[readngandweepng]

rambling about a dom ftm low-honor arthur with a sub top reader.

gn amab top reader. pretty much just a bunch of unprotected sex so some talk of pregnancy and a little bit of public sex. mostly proofread. also this IS supposed to be consensual, even if it's not blatantly stated.

just thinking about low honor arthur who, after a quick cat and mouse game, has your wrists tied to the headboard of a hotel room you’d been staying the night in. he still has his hat on his head as he rides your cock, rolling his hips with a crude grace befitting of him. his walls squeeze around you with the periodic drop of his hips, and even though you’re tied up (and well. this is arthur’s doing after all) he’s still got a hand pressed against your chest to keep you held down. 

his groans can only barely cover up the wet squelching sounds coming from his cunt as he humps your cock. you’ve already cum once—or maybe twice now, you’re not really sure—but a wave of euphoria washes over you anyway as the coil in your stomach snaps, his pussy having successfully milked another one from you in what felt like no time at all. 

for a moment arthur keeps rutting on your cock, until finally the ache subsides and he’s pulsating around you, his rough motions slowly coming to a stop. while you manage to keep your eyes open you can see arthur setting his hat down onto the table beside the bed, his hips raising off your aching cock. foolishly you think he’s giving you a break, but you know better. this is arthur; he wants to be filled to the absolute brim. as expected, he sits on your dick again, evoking a long, breathy groan as his head falls back. 

“jus’ sit tight and let me use this cock o’ yours, all right?” he reminds you gruffly at the sight of your twitching arms, his hand residing on your chest keeps its hold as if you’ll break out of the restraints. not that you’re trying to, and he knows that, but the feeling of holding you down is evidently making him as wet as it is making you hard. 

he leans over you, his hands now gripping the headboard that shakes against the elegantly-plastered walls. you weakly buck your hips in an attempt to meet his determined bouncing but it’s futile when he squeezes around you. your mind goes blank, and now arthur’s lips are at your ear as he groans, muttering a nonsensical mix of praise and whatever else. he’s so slick that you slip out of him for a moment before he takes you again, humping your cock until once more you cum inside of him with what little you can and he immediately follows before stopping and leaning back. 

his chest is glistening with sweat as it rises and falls with his now evened breathing. he groans as he falls forward again, this time resting his body against yours, his lips back to your ear to kiss beneath it. he unties your hands with a dirty smile before he closes his eyes. you follow suite in slumber, only occasionally waking up to the feeling of arthur’s hips moving in his sleep, and the thought of arthur riding your aching cock again in the morning has your head fuzzy and your dick twitching with an exhausted but enticed delight.

thinking about how if you were fucking him without a condom he would lock his legs around your waist when you’d try pulling out and make you cum inside of him, just for the hell of it. afterwards he’d give you a faux scolding, talking about how irresponsible you ought to be to do something like that, only to flip the both of you over and ride you ‘till you cum inside of him again and again until he’s really had his fill. 

i also like to imagine the confidence that low-honor arthur has; if he wanted you, kissing up your neck and pulling you flush against him works well enough, but sometimes he likes to lay flat on his back, stripped naked with his legs spread, giving his pussy a good slap before taunting you with some sort of challenge. if he’s up for it, he might rub his clit, making you watch as pumps his fingers into his cunt. if he cums, he’ll spread himself open to entice you with the sight of his gushing cum. most of the time he’ll let you have your way, fucking into him at whatever pace you desire so long as your cum ends up in the same place, nestled deep inside him.

you’d fuck arthur while he’s bended over where after you’re done, you’ll pull out and watch as he spreads his legs, pulling at the folds of his pussy to show your cum oozing out of him like honey. he might even sit on your face and have you lick him clean too.

now arthur wouldn’t actually want to get pregnant.. however that doesn’t stop him from wanting to get fucked like he does. he’ll loll his head back and let you fuck him like you're trying to breed him, splitting his pussy open on your cock and filling him up to where his legs feel like they’re permanently spread apart to give you room to slot yourself back into him. arthur will lay back and listen to the sound of your cock pounding into his wet cunt and only when your old cum is forced to seep out of him in favor of a new batch will he close his legs, making sure his belly is kept full with just you. 

(and god knows if he let it happen he wouldn’t be caught dead without a big belly, always walking around camp barefoot having to stick to just doing chores. he’d be popping out kids left and right without a care in the world. abigail would faint if she saw arthur’s belly growing again months after already just having one kid. thinking about it, abigail or dutch would probably have to give you and arthur a different version of The Talk if he doesn’t wave it off or else he might really find himself bedridden with child more times than he can count)

arthur doesn’t need to be pregnant to have the whole camp know what you’re up to when you go out at night. you’ll return the next morning with bags under your eyes alongside an arthur with a little pep in his step. although you’ll be lucky if he’s considerate enough to actually leave camp; he may even offer an innocent night bath at some lake where he’ll strip his clothes directly in your line of sight, sauntering into the water with a not very innocent smirk on his face to pair. you might actually get a bath in, but it probably won’t do you any good when he just lays you on your back on the grass and rides you anyway. 

as much as he loves being on top of you, arthur also likes being flat on his stomach. he’ll moan and groan more than usual, especially if you’re at camp he’ll be egging you on to take him harder and will reach back to grab your legs and fuck himself on your dick if you slow down or try to pull out. he likes having you press him against the dirt or grass so that afterwards he can really see the mess you made painted on his body (as well as use it as an excuse to bathe together). 

he’ll talk a lot during sex too, but it’s mostly just muttering about your dick or calling you names. he’ll call you a whore as he bounces on your cock while leading your head to his chest to suck on his nipples. arthur would also leave marks on your body where everyone can see and will revel in the comments unsuspecting people will make that want to know who left them. (john will roll his eyes because dear god does he know who left them.)

of course i have to add how much arthur would love clothed sex. he likes it fast and dirty, and the time it takes to undress is simply one minute too long for him. he’ll ride you through your jeans if he has to, he’ll hump and grind against your cock until the front of your clothes are soaked.

among things like a game of chase i think a form of foreplay for arthur would be something like poker. especially if you’re bad at it, he’ll play any type of game with you if he knows he’ll win so he can have his way with you. if you want he’ll even hunt you down like a wolf, stalking you in the woods until you’re so eager you can hardly stand it, and then he’ll strike; knocking you down so fast you won’t even know what hit you until your belt is unbuckled and arthur’s on your dick looking down at you like he just caught his prey. 

one of arthur’s favorite things is having you eat him out, he’ll keep his legs around your head to make sure your mouth stays on him. he wants everything you’ll give him, your tongue diving into him stretching him out. he wants to feel you suck and spit on his clit, your teeth nibbling on him and pulling his lips apart to dip your fingers into his cunt. if his legs aren’t shaking by the end of it he’ll make you do it all again till your jaw is aching and your face is covered in his slick.

last thing i think arthur would actually like getting caught having sex. he likes the thrill of fucking at camp where someone like micah or john can hear, but even more so would love getting caught and walked in on. even if he's wanted, he'll ride you in a hotel room with the door cracked open, moaning just a bit louder than he usually would. arthur will have you bend him over somewhere in the woods, and isn't afraid to make direct eye contact with any passer by who sees. he'll shoot anyone who's truly a threat of course, but if he were to hear or see someone touching themself as they watch you, he'll cum on the spot with his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

[olivethewriter]

Love is a drug

hey y'all this is my first one shot, and I am kind nervous, but I just watched euphoria and thought this would be a good fic idea y/n goes to fez's house and gets drugged by mouse instead of rue leading to a steamy confession

You knock on your best friend Fezco's door. "Fez, open up! It's pouring out here!"

The door cracks open a moment later. "Y/N, you really shouldn't be here."

"Too bad, I'm starving," you reply,making a beeline for the kitchen. You grab your favorite chipst.

"Nah, Y/N, I'm serious. You gotta get the fuck up out my house," Fez insists.

"Man stop stressin," you reply, plopping down on his couch and flipping through the TV channels.

"My supplier's bout to swing by, and I don't want you here when he does," Fez explains, growing more tense.

"I'm hungry," you repeat, munching on another chip.

"Then take the fucking chips with you," he grumbles.

"You're being hella rude today, but—" Before you can finish, Fez's phone rings, breaking the tense silence.

After a long pause, Fezco shakes his head. "I could fucking kill you right now."

Fez heads to the door as you turn off the TV. A tall, tattooed guy, way taller and bulkier than you expected, steps in behind Fez. 

"Well, shit, I didn't know your bitch would be here," he says, eyeing you.

"Nah, man, she's just a friend," Fez replies, taking a seat across from you.

"Well, hello there," the guy kneels in front of you, extending his hand. "I'm Mouse. Pleasure to meet you."

"Um, hi," you mutter, cautiously shaking his hand. His intense gaze makes you uneasy, like you want to crawl out of your skin.

he says, he stands up and unpacks his bag and starts describing its contents.

"Sure you don't want any fentanyl?" 

“Nah man im cool too many ODs” fez says 

“How bout you little lady want any fent?”Mouse asks, looking at you.

"No," you reply firmly.

"Nah, man, she's cool," Fez interjects. You've never used drugs before (besides vaping once), and you certainly don't want to start with something as dangerous as fentanyl.

"You gonna let him speak for you?”you look to fez for help “look at me when i talk to you." Mouse demands. He grabs your chin, playing with your hair.

"Have you ever tried it?" he whispers into your ear. You shake your head, speechless.

"No, for real, bro, I don't want her messing with that shit," Fez asserts, his voice steady but tense.

"Don't look at him. Look at me," Mouse insists, grabbing your chin and staring into your eyes. "Ever tried anything?"

You remain silent, unsure how to respond.

"No, seriously, man, she's good," Fez tries to defuse the tension, but Mouse isn't done.

"You know that feeling when you come so hard you can't hear or feel shit?" Mouse whispers, leaning in close. You freeze, feeling the point of his knife against your glossed lips.

You pray silently. You can't believe you're about to die. But you glance at Fez and open your mouth.

The drug hits you fast. In less than a minute, you're numb, barely able to sense anything. You lie down on the couch, eyes barely open.

"You like that?" Mouse asks, placing your legs on his lap.

"Uh-huh," you mumble.

"Wanna try more?" Mouse offers, leaving light touches on your thighs.

"No, man, she doesn't want any more," Fez says, struggling to keep his voice calm, hiding his growing anger.

"I-I want more," you slur, wanting to feel like this forever. Mouse places patches in your shorts' waistband, his hands lingering on your hips.

"That'll cost you three hundred," Mouse says.

"I'm broke," you manage to say.

"That's too bad. Guess you'll have to find another way to pay," Mouse says, his hand creeping toward your hips.

"Man, don't make her do that. I'll pay for her," Fez interjects.

"Nah, thought you were too good for fent," Mouse retorts. Fez grabs the gun, but ultimately decides against using it. That's the last thing you remember before drifting off.

When you wake up, Mouse is long gone, and Fez is nowhere to be found. You're in Fez's room, wearing one of his sweaters. You get out of bed and head to the kitchen, where Fez is eating cereal.

"I'm sorry," you say, barely holding back tears. Fez turns around.

"No, no, don't apologize. It's my fault. I should've had you wait in another room or just fucking shot him," he says, seeing your quivering lips. He pulls you into a hug.

"That was so scary," you admit, barely keeping it together.

"I know, ma," Fez consoles you.

"I thought I was going to die," you confess.

"It's okay. You're here now, and you're safe," Fez assures you, pulling away to look into your eyes.

"I won't let him hurt you again," Fez vows.

"I know," you whisper.

When you thought you were going to die, there wasn't much you regret. You love your family. You're on good terms with almost everyone. But you had never been in love before. You always thought you and Fez would end up together, and it was only a matter of time. But life isn't guaranteed. Tomorrow might not happen. And the next time you almost die, you don't want it to be without kissing Fezco O'Neil.

You look into Fezco's blue eyes. Without thinking, you ask, "Will you kiss me?"

Fez's blue eyes widen, but he doesn't hesitate. His lips touch yours, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. You look up at him, then at his lips.

"Do it again," you demand.

This time, Fez doesn't wait for you to finish your sentence. He kisses you fiercely. The kiss, sweet and hesitant before, is now intense and passionate. Teeth clash, and tongues wrestle as you try to get as close as possible. His strong hands wrap around your waist, and your arms tighten around his neck. You step closer, until every inch of your body presses against his. He lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He moves one of your hands from your waist to your neck, pressing a little harder. You let out a small gasp, pulling his face back into yours and kissing him harder. Your hands meet behind his neck, and unexpectedly, he bites your lip and looks into your eyes. You let out a whimper, but your phone dings.

"I need to get that. It's probably my mom," you sigh, disappointed that the moment is over.

"Yeah, of course," Fez says, setting you back on the ground. You look at the message from your mom, telling you to let her know if you're going to stay overnight at Maddie's house and come home.

"I'm so sorry. I have to go," you apologize.

"Okay, let me walk you out."

When you two reach the door, Fez speaks up. "Listen, I really like you. I want this to happen again. Can we do this again but not just like hooking up and shit? I want it all."

"Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Fezco?" you ask, smiling.

"I mean, I guess, if you want to be," Fezco says, looking down and fiddling with his hands.

"Of course," you say, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him.

"See you tomorrow."

"Bye, Y/N," he says, watching you walk away, the ghost of your kiss lingering on his lips.