oh god here we go. alright read the fucking warnings.
18+ ONLY
TW: noncon, somnophilia, male masturbation, spit, facial, alcohol mention.
pairing: john “soap” mactavish x female reader
word count: 966 words of smut.
AN: this is @kaadaaan's fault. also i wrote this all in one go with minimal editing because my brain was being rotted and i needed to get it out. poor grammar and typos are likely, for that i apologise.
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johnny is your friend, he’s been your friend for a long long time and as such he has a key to the door to your house to use and your blessing that he can just drop in whatever time he likes when he’s on leave. it’s not uncommon for you to come downstairs in the morning to find him sprawled out on your sofa wearing nothing but his boxer briefs, one foot planted on the rug under the sofa and the other hanging off the armrest.
he’s larger than life, your johnny. the other half to your brain sometimes. jokingly referred to as your brother from another mother. you love him, but only as a friend. despite that, he’s got a key to your house and a piece of your heart because you know he’ll never do anything to hurt you.
johnny on the other hand doesn’t love you like a sister. he loves you with a capital L and something feral behind his eyes. his smile always goes a little too sharp whenever you crack that “joke” that you love him like a brother because he knows if you knew the way he’d been thinking about you for years you’d have locked up your heart and house tight instead of inviting the wolf to stay.
-
that obsession is how he ends up in this position, just like he has countless times before, standing like a sentinel at your bedside. the only light to see your gorgeous face is the streetlight that curls probing fingers through the thin curtains of your bedroom window. you’re beautiful like this. he honestly doesn’t know how his gaze hasn’t woken you yet, surely you can feel the way he traces every shadow and highlight on your face. surely you can feel the way he stares at your open mouth, driven to madness by the slight spit at the corners of your mouth. fuck it’s almost too much for him. but still he stands frozen, just watching. never touching. not until tonight.
you’d both been drinking. johnny had switched to water part way through the night, you hadn’t and so with johnny’s help you’d stumbled up the stairs to your room and passed out flat on your back. not terribly unusual, he’s seen you do it before when you’ve been drinking. he’s heard your snoring through the walls before. but tonight is different.
later, when he creeps down the stairs to slump onto the sofa, he’ll blame the lingering buzz of alcohol in his blood for daring to do what he’s thought about for so long. but right now, he’s staring at your open mouth watching a faint glimmer of light hit your wet pink tongue and fisting his cock over your sleeping face. grateful for the fact that you always sleep like the dead when you’re drunk and nothing except the world ending could possibly wake you.
despite the reassurance that you won’t wake - can’t wake - the sound of his hand moving over his cock is loud in his ears. he’s sure the slick noises are drowning out even the gentle open mouth snores you offer into the air. he positive that in mere moments your eyelids will flicker open and you’ll look up at him, your corrupted sentinel, to see the way he’s gripping his cock desperately. his hips jerking in aborted thrusts as he thrusts into the tight fist he’s made around himself.
a groan slips through johnny’s gritted teeth as his thumb swipes another bead of precum over the flushed head of his cock.
fuck.
if he doesn’t slow down he knows without a shadow of a doubt he’ll end up coming on your sleeping face. a spurt of precum dribbles from his cock at the thought. oh fuck. he wants that. he wants to come on your face. he wants to let the thick white ropes coat your cheeks and chin. maybe even cover your open mouth with some of his come so you wake up with the taste of him on your tongue.
johnny’s hips jerk forward as his orgasm blindsides him completely. his eyes roll back into his head and he whines desperately through his nose, teeth sinking into his lower lip to trap the moan that's burning his throat.
moments or maybe aeons later, his vision clears and he looks down at you.
“fuckin’ hell” it’s whispered, part reverence for the sight that greets him, part fear of waking you prematurely.
your face is covered. johnny’s come drips from your cheeks. it slides down the curve of your jaw onto your neck where it pools, glimmering in the low light, before dribbling onto your pillow. a pearlescent string clings to your top lip and then - and johnny swears he feels his cock twitch out another dribble at the sight - you lick it off.
johnny takes a step backwards from you on shaky legs. he needs to leave, now. if he doesn’t, christ he doesn’t know what he’d do to you. he doesn’t want to find out how far the depths of his depravity go. he doesn’t want to know if he could get away with scooping some of his come off your chin and pushing it into your mouth. he doesn’t want to know if that would be enough for the taste to linger in the morning when you wake up.
with one last lingering look at your face he tucks himself back into his boxers and leaves you. covered, marked, his.
-
in the morning you wake with blurry eyes and a thick head. god you’d really had too much to drink last night. you smack your lips together and frown at the taste in your mouth. it’s sour and slightly musky.
oh well, you must’ve fallen asleep with your mouth open again.
--
here be kink taglist: @kaadaaan ; @waves-against-a-cliff ; @acenby-weirdo ; @greatstormcat
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you’ve heard of bloody James potter
Now get ready for
bloody regulus black
(Inspired by @likeprongstostars art of bloody James potter vi ur my hero as always my friend)
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byakuya togami killed his sense of guilt after his family's heir competition and sentencing his siblings to be wiped from their history, essentially, because remorse gets you nowhere if you dwell on it and a togami shouldn't spare such pointless emotions for people below him.
but then makoto falls into the trash chute and for the first time in a long time, he feels something like regret. this wasn't what he wanted. yes he's alive, now, and yes maybe that meant it was the right choice in the end - but what if there was a different way? what if makoto could've been saved? he was a boy who had only wanted to help those around him, and as annoying and naive as he was, he was also incredibly observant and painfully clever. shouldn't he have deserved to live?
the relief he feels when he sees makoto again is something he can't express. he's never needed to express it before
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happy late valentine’s day also pls forgive this 🤡 for your 1-year-late-requests🥹💕😔🤟
sorry this is super late (even it’s just a sketch)😭😭😭 but if any of you want your separated pic you can dm me🥹🤟
edit: for those who requested, you can do whatever you like (set as icon, post it, print, etc, as long as it’s personal use) to the individual pic I gave you, no need to ask for permission it’s all yours🥰
@strikercorbie @wkxs @valley-of-the-lost @nashpati @pran-so-brave @stellareclipses @mutantfactor @darkovstein @ashinlae @himemi @haojun @korre @queridaz @naptakingkitty @ithappensoffstage @till-you-feel-it-all @litek2137 @rhysiana @kayathechameleon @bifca @janedrewfinally @2amfog @thenimbletree @latsin @strung-by-fate @fismoll7secinv @circumference-pie @kagehikaru @pale-freckled @loveandviolets @eponinemylove @delicatelygloriousphoenix @still-gathering-roses @starshipcaptainjojo @pawsnread
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I was gonna give up on this sketch but my super talented fren @0wldn0 helped me with the rest of the body and all of Gregory so I finished it TTwTT also love how they drew Greg all tiny he fits in one hand how cute is that 💕💕💕 he’s fine he just got stabbed a little 👌
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if dorian didn't show up, do you think louis would have shot minnie?
I do. I know some people think either he wouldn't have or he would've missed so that's why the writers had him shoot Dorian instead, but mmmmmm no, I don't personally think so. I like to think that if he had taken the shot, his shaky hands would've caused him to shoot her fatally.
Mostly because I'm already so normal about the fact that of the Ericson crew, Marlon and Louis are the only ones with a body count. Well, that we know of, but shown to us in the game, at least. Plus, we know it's Louis' first kill.
Like yeah, Clementine and AJ become part of the crew and they have bigger body counts, and if we're counting indirect kills caused by actions, then Tenn has a count... and I guess everyone has blood on their hands for blowing up the boat... but I'm talking about killed directly with a weapon like....... I lied, I'm not normal about that at all, Louis and Marlon are the ones who have killed someone in Louis' route. I'm also not normal about the fact that Louis kills Dorian and then even as he's clearly in shock, he tries to go with Clementine to get AJ, and then later on when they talk about it, he says it feels like bile but not quite and he's glad he has it in him to do it.... listen, listen, listen... I'm obsessed with that.
Anyway, so if Louis shot Minerva, I think he would've accidentally killed her and can you imagine? He's already enough of a mess after killing the woman who pinned him down and tried to cut his finger off [or succeeded] but he knew Minerva, they were friends before the twins were taken. Even Violet couldn't kill her even though that would've been the smarter thing to do, and we know thanks to meta knowledge that killing her would've saved lives, but Violet couldn't, and I don't think Louis would intentionally either.
Speaking of Violet, if Louis killed Minerva, I hate to think about what that would've done to Vi. I think she might've actually left at that point, like what was planned before it got changed to her being burned. I don't think she would've attacked Louis over it, though, like yeah she attacked Clementine in the cell but Louis? I don't know, but I don't think so just because it's Louis and he'd be a mess about it anyway.
Though if he did kill her, it would be a neat parallel to draw... y'know, because Louis forgave AJ for killing Marlon even though he was pissed and heartbroken, and Violet was annoyed with him the entire time... but could she ever forgive Louis for killing Minerva? Y'know? We already have a similar parallel with AJ shooting Tenn, but still.
If Clementine killed Minerva in that moment, though, then I could see Violet attacking her since in her eyes, Clem proved her right.
So yeah, I get why they added the Dorian kill to his route. It adds another compelling element to Louis as a character, but we also need Minerva alive for episode 4; Louis can't kill her, he can't miss, and he's not going to stay with her because we need Violet to stay on the boat and him to be on shore for all routes.
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hmmm for the ask game! kunikida & dazai + "are you okay?" (can be platonic or romantic, take your pick!)
"are you okay?"
dazai looks up at kunikida, slapping on a stupid smile. "oh, me? of course i'm-"
"cut the crap, osamu."
oof, osamu. kunikida was really pulling out the big guns for this one, huh?
dazai scoffed, then sighed, then waved kunikida over.
kunikida sits down tentatively, hands trembling. dazai takes his hands in his and begins to massage them, slowly, forcefully.
"this isn't..." kunikida pauses to stifle a moan when dazai hits a particularly painful spot. "this isn't about me."
"but it can be~" dazai winks.
"stop it."
kunikida pulls his hands away, tucking them in his pockets. "stop pretending you're okay. you aren't. i only asked to give you a chance to admit it for once. just-"
he sighs angrily, letting his head flop back onto the wall with a soft thud. "you're important, too."
"i know."
"and i know you, osamu. stop lying to me."
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an opportunity to ask about grace wips.......... i'd be a fool to miss it
12 and 13 please!!
hehe ily <3 these two are both ideas i'm plotting for fyodor ship week in june!!
midnight baptism (12) is a no-powers au that is. pretty much exactly what it says on the tin. fyodor nathaniel and nikolai sneak into a church in the middle of the night because fyodor wants to be re-baptized after coming out as trans
fyothaniel communion (13) takes place the night before nathaniel's brainwashing/lobotomy/whatever in which he comes to fyodor and says he wants to partake in communion one last time before the procedure, and asks fyodor to do the sermon for it.
see. okay so the thing is. people are always like "omg i love writing fics as an excuse to infodump about my non-fandom related knowledge from non-fandom related interests" but the non-fandom topic i have spent literally my entire life studying and memorizing is The Bible. and i can't just make any random characters bible quizzers or send them to youth group or whatever. so now that i finally have characters who are canonically religious that gives me the perfect opportunity to write fics about things i'm very familiar with but have never had a chance to explore in fics before. like baptism and communion. maybe i'll even make nathaniel a bible quizzer at some point. you never know what could happen next.
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entirely inspired by @kaadaaan's post here
18+ only please and thank you
john soap mactavish and his trichophilia (body hair fetish)
john "soap" mactavish x f!reader drabble; 322 words.
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johnny who shoves his entire face into your armpit, completely uncaring of how you squirm as his nose tickles the stubble that sits there and mutters about how "it'd be so much better if ye just let it grow oot like it's s'posed tae" as his hand works furiously up and down his cock.
johnny who when you waxed for the first (and only time) in your relationship/situationship/fwb deal for a holiday abroad was so upset that you'd stripped your cunt bald that he refused to touch your pussy at all and made you suck his cock while petting the hair at the nape of your neck as you worked your mouth over him.
johnny who routinely throws out your razors and hair removal cream and denies doing it when you ask.
johnny who strokes the line of hair that leads down from your belly button into your knickers over and over until his fingers dip below the elastic to play with the curls on your cunt.
johnny who licks a long wet stripe over the hair on your calf when you finally give up even trying to shave your legs at all as he lavishes you in kisses from the ankle up.
johnny who when he runs his thumbs over your nipples is fucking delighted to find the few sparse hairs that grow there and spends endless minutes pinching and pulling at your tits being so careful not to pull out a single hair.
johnny who spends hours face down in your cunt with the curls of your pubic hair tickling his mouth, nose, and cheeks when he rubs his entire face over you.
johnny who when he comes inside of you immediately drops a hand between your legs to feel the mess he made and strokes his fingers over the hair between your legs until you're shifting against his hand, begging for him to fuck you with his fingers.
--
taglist for here be kink: @kaadaaan ; @acenby-weirdo ; @waves-against-a-cliff
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the chances of the people seeing this aren't super likely so this is highly inefficient but i'm too afraid to approach people personally…. yet i've been burning with the need to express my gratitude for the tags i've received individually somehow and figured, i could do it the way i do best. in the tags 😅
(sorted by most recent) (i capped the limit hard here) (some ✂️✂️ had to be done 😔) (i still like this format a lot though) (might do this again in the future idk would people like that??) (i hope it's not mortifying for anyone……..)
it's sorta the way i like it, indirect and unimposing, even if it's kinda. wieldy. but it's just on my blog so anything goes right? although in saying that, i am open to being imposed on. like if someone wants to talk about aci or something, like other fic?? i'm a big fic fiend. or anything else lol not sure what else you'd wanna chat about since so much of the stuff i've put out is just. about fic. but hey, if you're a person i don't mind being approached :>
(lol the way i've made this like a *throws out a bunch of paper slips* find your's 🎉) (might be obnoxious hm) (sorry...) (find your's if you want though 🫡)
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Another proof that Vi only like women and knows it from a young age : in ep2 when Vander came to check on Vi and the group after they came from Piltover and ask them what happen you can see a picture of a sexy women in a red dress pinned on the wall in Vi's side of the bed
YOU MEAN THIS??
(the top bunk is Vi’s bed and you can see the little things that she customized her space with: a saxophone (??), boxing gloves, a picture of either Vi boxing or a boxer, various framed pictures, and a poster of a sexy woman in a red dress. Never would have found it without this Twitter account posting every frame in Arcane)
It's so incredible to think about young Vi fully knowing what her sexuality is and being a butch lesbian that no one can mess with. No one can mock her crushes, even if they do somehow end up knowing about them. Just imagine Mylo making fun of Vi for acting a little flustered around a pretty girl and Vi immediately gives him the death stare that shuts him up. "Wanna see how that ends?"
I think Powder knew Vi was attracted to girls. When Sevika tells her: "guess she replaced you", Jinx isn’t meant to think they're just friends imo. The line "you're with an enforcer" could ambiguously be interpreted as romantic (and I think the phrasing is intentional). She tries to reason with herself, her hallucination taunting her with: “she cares about the enforcer, you saw it!” and Jinx retorting with how Vi was there for her. She was denying the hug as something more than platonic, "it's just a goodbye hug!", and then referred to Caitlyn as Vi's girlfriend in the finale because it’s the only thing that makes sense.
It took very little time for Jinx to assume Caitlyn was a romantic interest. So... she’s always known Vi was a lesbian. It’s my headcanon.
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theres a heel clack in the distance somewhere
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A little Doctor Who / Dragon Age crossover again. 💙💙
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Mistletoe 5 (Public) with toma Vies/Scorch - MBW
@mandalorianbrainweasel 🤍
Mistletoe prompts
The holiday lights are glimmering gold and silver on this particular clear, frosty evening. All manner of swirling, glitzy designs have been strung up between the buildings where the shoppers and the tourists all bundled up against the cold linger to appreciate the view.
Vies is narrowly missed by a bus running across the busy street, and all he can think is that his nose is bloody freezing.
The reception he’s headed to is being held in one of the fanciest hotels in the city. It’s a charity thing, and he was only invited by the power of Walon Vau’s contacts, but the promise of high-end glamour and terrible hors d’œuvres and tiny flutes of champagne isn’t exactly why he’s excited to be here tonight.
The front steps are carpeted in red and the doorman greets Vies personally as he enters. There’s a whole to-do in the grand entrance hall: something like a hundred people all milling about under a clamour of polite conversation and heavily festive wintry décor. He feels lost, for a moment, suddenly adrift and searching out any passingly-familiar face with an increasing sense of desperation.
“Hey,” somebody calls gently by his shoulder. Vies turns—breaks out into a grin before he can temper it. Scorch makes a fine figure in an evening suit and bow tie, and smiles back with a cheeky flash of teeth, stepping in closer to be heard above the hubbub. “I’m glad you made it.”
“Happy to see me?” Vies asks, “Or are you happy to have someone else who never knows what to do at these things.”
Scorch holds out a glass, small and fizzing with something appropriately golden coloured, and Vies takes it gratefully. “Do I have to choose one?”
Vies’ pathetic little heart flutters around his chest. It’s been a few months since the fateful evening they met, but just the sight of Scorch’s smile and the scent of his cologne is enough to set off the anxious little butterflies.
They’ve been on a fair few dates since, but they’re both busy men. Vies can be excused for his excitement.
Dizzy with the understanding that he’d probably agree to just about anything Scorch were to suggest right now, Vies gladly follows him around the throng of guests in the grand entrance. He notes the careful beauty of the fir garlands and their tasteful baubles as they pass doorways and hanging portraits that have all been trimmed accordingly, all the way up to the sweeping marble staircase.
He’s so distracted, gaping as he is, that he nearly misses it.
“Oh,” he murmurs, and tugs on the inside of Scorch’s elbow to bring him to a halt.
“What is it?” Scorch asks, brows beginning to crease, but he follows Vies’ gaze upwards and the confusion quickly clears. “Oh.”
Scorch clears his throat. Vies looks at him and wishes he had a camera to capture the delightfully bashful expression he pulls.
“I promise I didn’t know that was there.”
Less of a sprig—a whole branch’s worth of mistletoe has been artfully dangled over the doorway they are currently in the centre of. Planned or not, Vies can’t help but think it’s either an early gift or a sign from higher powers.
“Well,” he says, letting go of Scorch’s arm to instead place a hand on the lapel of his beautifully tailored suit, “it is tradition.”
“Tradition is very important,” Scorch half-mumbles in distracted agreement. His arm winds around Vies’ waist; Vies has missed him entirely too much these past few months, and leans forward to kiss him without any further hesitation.
Scorch laughs, returning the kiss with just as much fervour. “Your nose is really cold,” he murmurs against Vies’ lips.
Vies nips him gently. “Do something about it then,” he says, and then reconsiders. “But not in front of all these people.”
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