Miles: Since he's my babe I'm talking from personal experience that he likes Missionary the most. He just loves to look into your eyes while seeing your face as he nails u into the mattress and also how your boobs bounce (if you're a girl), he'd just stare at them and want to see your beautiful face of which he never could get enough. Another one (that I know of cuz I experienced it with him-..Ok enough sorry lol lol) would be the Boat sex position. I know I've talked of how he wants to see your face while fucking you but sometimes he feels a little rough or you guys had a fight and he couldn't stand seeing your face due to how angry he was but needed to let out his frustration on your holes. I think it screams Miles.
Waylon: Aw he's such a sweet guy and so gentle...I mean yeah he could go rough if you'd insist but he'd ask u a 100 times if you're sure about it and idk about you but it would frustrate me for sure. So I think he'd like the Chair position just bc he can be so close to you and have your body and the warmth on his. The second one I thought of would be Deep stick position which screams deep fucking penetration. It doesn't look too rough or crazy just your legs on his shoulders and he'd be keeling down while fucking you. Waylon is a basic guy, I'm sorry hahah!
Eddie: Well..He's a fucking big guy, no matter how tall you are, he's taller and bigger and thicker and ughhh yk so two came into my mind: Catapult position and Cradle position..Here's why: Catapult (I know goofy ass name) bc it would be easy to throw you on his table with that saw attached and just pull your legs on his shoulders so he could plant his seed as deep as he could reach ;) and also cuz it's easier for him that way even when you're tiny compared to him..He can support his weight with his arms on the table while he has to kinda squat his legs to your entrance level which is challenging depending on how short you are. The second one would be Cradle position. You weight nothing to him so it would also be comfortable for him to sit you down on him and use you like a fucking sex doll. He'd be just sitting and doesn't have to do god knows what to be able to reach your hole.
Jeremy: Okay I have a perfect one in mind which just screams Jeremy blaire and it's the Capricorn position (my zodiac sign btw....). So yes bc we all know him, he'd be lazy and just egoistic in the way sex works to him..Like I'm sorry people but I think he'd use you to ride him cuz he's selfish and even his hands behind his head would be accurate. I mean to be fair you could set your own pace and pleasure yourself on his dick so that's a plus, right? Another position I thought of and I swear just bc of the name...The CEO position. I saw it and I was like yes. That's Jeremy. Don't concentrate on the position too much, just on the name lol lol.
Richard: I actually had a harder time to decide which positions but I think I got them now. The pretzel dip, he is a chill guy so he'd want you to chill and as you can see in this position your arm is supporting your head while you just lay there and he works his ass off to satisfy you..I mean what more do you want, right? But I also think this position is a rather uncomplicated one for him so he doesn't have to put much effort. The second one would be the winged eros position..Again he is sitting in a comfortable position and now you have to work your ass off to make yourself and him cum bc I don't think he will move his hips when he's already in such a comfy (for him) position lol.
ā
|| Alright that's it..If u wanna have more characters let me know..I momentarily can take requests for Outlast 1 & Outlast whistleblower as I only played those two. ||
TW: AFAB! Reader, Voyeurism, Cheating, Masturbation, Creampie, Cuckolding, Coyle puts a cigarette out on you, Edging
wc: 1.1k
Authors note: Basically an AU were reader and Easterman live in Blackwellā¦ first installment?!??!
Hendrick chose the dense woods, which were intended to remain concealed from the prying eyes of the small southern town of Blackwell, Oklahoma, where he and you had chosen to settle, compared to the bustling life of the city he's used to.
It became painfully evident that both Hendrick and you were outsiders, drawing judgment and scrutiny from the locals who whispered behind closed doors.
Especially from the man he hated mostāSergant Leland Coyle.
Sergeant Coyle embodied the worst of the hillbillies in a town overflowing with them, a man whose crude demeanor and cocky attitude made him the subject of Hendrick's disdain.
Hendrick often found himself baffled by the way the townsfolk idolized him, falling at his feet, reverently kissing the grimy soles of his boots, which were caked with mud from the backroads he frequented.
When he went out in public with you, it seemed inevitable that Coyle would appear. He'd approach with a wide grin, running his hand through his midnight hair, his eyes completely obscured by his aviators, wearing his sergeant uniform and launching into conversation that completely ignored Hendrick.
Either discussing his time in the military or his significant achievements as a cop. Hendrick was convinced that Coyle's actions were intended solely to irritate him.
So Hendrick could hardly ignore the sight of Coyleās freshly waxed patrol car, gleaming under the sun, parked conspicuously in the driveway of his home.
The house was eerily silent, a contrast to the usual warmth and liveliness that you added. Hendrick had grown accustomed to the comforting sight of you bustling through the kitchen, your face illuminated by a radiant smile, and your apron tied snugly around your waist as you prepared to welcome him home after a long day.
This unsettling quietness hung in the air as he moved cautiously toward your shared room; the door was slightly ajar, and through the narrow gap, he could hear the unmistakable sounds of the bed creaking rhythmically, accompanied by your soft, muffled moans.
All Hendrick could see was you lying on the bed, your body arched in a way that accentuated every curve of your ass, your head resting on the pillow.
Your lips were slightly parted, and drool escaped as Coyle thrust into you. His sergeant uniform discarded on the floor, while his hands are firmly gripping your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he squeezes and slowly massages your ass.
The sight absolutely infuriates Hendrick; his jaw clenched as he watches, but the uncomfortable tightness that sits between his thighs says otherwise.
āTighter than my previous wivesāfuck,ā Coyle growls, his coarse, black pubic hair teasingly grazing your sensitive skin. His hands, firm and possessive, glide down from your rounded ass to your throbbing clit, where he begins to rub in slow, deliberate circles, gradually increasing the intensity, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.
Hendrick could only imagine the overwhelming rush of pleasure and satisfaction that Coyle must have felt with you enveloping him, the warmth of your body contrasting sharply with the cool air around them, igniting a primal desire that was both intoxicating and maddening.
Hendrickās hands move swiftly to the belt that secures his slacks, his fingers deftly unbuckling it with a sense of urgency. As he pulls both his slacks and boxers down to his ankles, he feels the cool air brush against his skin, heightening his senses.
Just as he begins to lose himself in the moment, Coyle suddenly pulls out, leaving you to whine in disappointment and Hendrick to bite his lip.
āDonāt worry, sweetheart,ā Coyle grumbles, his voice low and gravelly, as he reaches for the cigarettes and lighter that were carelessly left near the nightstand. He retrieves a cigarette, slipping it between his dry, cracked lips, the familiar ritual providing a momentary distraction.
With a flick of his lighter, the flame ignites effortlessly, and he inhales deeply, savoring the first drag before blowing the smoke out in a slow, deliberate stream, watching as it curls and dissipates into the air.
Coyle suddenly shifts his weight, effortlessly tossing you onto your back, a surprised yelp escaping your lips as you land softly against the bed.
Before you can fully process whatās happening, he slides in with a smooth, deliberate motion, filling you completely. A rush of sensation courses through you, causing your toes to curl involuntarily as he thrusts again.
His long, skilled fingers trail down your thighs, exploring the soft skin as your legs instinctively wrap around his shoulders, pulling him closer and allowing you to feel him even deeper inside you.
Each thrust sends waves of pleasure radiating through your body, and you canāt help but moan softly, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of his movements.
Hendrickās breath stills in his throat, his hand moving in rhythm with the same deliberate thrusts of Coyle's; he finds himself lost in a whirlwind of desire, imagining the way he could bring you pleasure just as Coyle does.
The thought fills him with a mix of longing and self-loathingāit is utterly pathetic, and deep down, he's painfully aware of it.
Hendrick could only stand there quietly as Coyle thrust into you with an intensity that seemed to echo through the room. Each powerful movement sent waves of sensation coursing through your body.
He watched as Coyle, with one final, forceful push, let out a soft moan that filled the air, a sound that resonated with the culmination of passion. The moment stretched out, and Hendrick could see the way your body responded, arching and trembling beneath Coyle's weight.
It was a sight that both captivated and tormented him, as he could only assume that you were reaching your peak, lost in the midst of ecstasy, just as Coyle was.
Hendrickās vision fades into a haze; the high he was searching for comes and completely covers his hand, seeping onto the floor. Coyle, with a predatory snarl, grips your thigh firmly, his fingers digging in as he takes the cigarette from his mouth.
He exhales a thick cloud of smoke, letting it linger in the air for a moment, savoring the moment before he brings the burning end of the cigarette down to your soft skin. The contact is searing, making you scream out in pain.
āWhat do you think your dear husband would say if he were to walk in and see this?ā Coyle taunts, a smirk playing on his lips as he carelessly tosses the cigarette onto the floor. He leans down closer to you, his breath warm against your skin as he licks the fresh wound.
Coyle's tongue traces the outline of the burn with a mix of cruelty and twisted affection, the dry lips brushing against the softness of your thigh.
āYou better clean this up, sweetie. He could be here at any moment, and we wouldnāt want him to find out, now would we?ā
TW: Easterman being a freak, Piss, Masturbation, Hair-Pulling, Alcohol Abuse, Spit as Lube, Dacryphilia, Not Proofread (whoops)
wc: 626
Authors Note: First time writing for Easterman!!! Super short drabble and dipping my toes into writing for Outlast (aka i just wanted to write Easterman pissing himself while jerking off)
Hendrickās head rested on the surface of his rustic desk, its wood worn and scratched from years of use. His hands, trembling slightly, gripped tightly onto one of the many bottles of gin that filled the drawers of his desk. It was not unusual for Hendrick to indulge in a drink during work hours, a habit he had cultivated over the years. Yet, today felt profoundly different.
Amelia Collier.
That name echoed relentlessly in his mind, a haunting reminder of the malevolent bitch who attempted to manipulate the very essence of his children, his reagents. Her magic had left deeper scars than he could have anticipated. They are now dreaming of freedom. Freedom from himāhis facility.
He raises his head and takes another swig of the gin; the sharp, biting flavor floods his mouth, lingering on his tongue like a bitter reminder of her presence, as if each sip is a curse that binds him to her.
Hendrick's eyes welled up with tears as emotions surged within him, unexpectedly. Crying was something he thought he had lost years ago; even the death of his beloved mother and his brother's suicide had never hit him so hard; perhaps it was just the alcohol.
Tears trickled down his cheeks, each drop a testament to the turmoil raging within him. His body trembled and seized, overwhelmed by a wave of emotion. With every drop of tears that fell, his hold on the bottle weakened, as if the very act of crying was pulling him away from the solace he sought in the alcohol. In a moment of chaotic release, the bottle slipped from his grasp, its weight shifting as it found its way to the top of his head. He felt it tug at his hair, a grim reminder of his mother.
Hendrick hardly noticed that his hand was now rubbing his limp dick and palming his slacks. His thin fingers rub constantly, and a barely audible groan escapes his lips. His hands were so heavy that he could barely undo his belt and get his dick out of his boxers. His hands gently rub his silt, stroking his half-hard penis. He can't recall the last time he touched anyone, let alone himself.
His pace quickens significantly, each stroke becoming increasingly intense as he grips his penis with a growing sense of urgency, the tension in his body manifesting in deeper moans that escape his lips, reflecting the overwhelming need of another human's touch that consumes him, as if each sound were a desperate plea for release from the tension that fills his body.
Hendrickās hands momentarily abandon his cock, rising up to his face. He spits onto his palm, the warm saliva glistening before he resumes with renewed force. The tears stream down his cheeks, a sign of the overwhelming sensations coursing through him, as he tilts his head back, surrendering to the intensity of the moment. His breath quickens, and he loses himself in the rhythm, feeling every pulse, throb, and vein as he continuesāthe world around him fades away into a blur of ecstasy.
He fails to notice the warm, familiar yellow liquid that unexpectedly trickles down his hand from his slit, a consequence of the alcohol coursing through his system that he seemingly forgot about, intensifying his need to relieve himself as it leaks onto his slacks that were bunched around his ankles.
The warm liquid finally pushes Hendrick over the edge of his overwhelming sensations; his eyes roll back in ecstasy, momentarily losing all sense of reality as he experiences his first euphoric release in what felt like years. Feeling as if he can see the very depths of his mind while he erupts in powerful streams that splatter across his desk.
Cheater!Jeremy Blaire x F! Patient!reader
Cheater!Jeremy Blaire x Richard Trager (Kinda)
Trager fucking with reader too.
Head canon of the fuckery that went on at mount massive before and after.
Tags - Dead dove do not eat, Canon divergence, Non-con/SA, Pre-Outlast/whistleblower (around in the comics before issue 2), Infidelity, Sadism, We all know Jeremy probably cheated at some point, but I like to think he's canonically as loyal to us as he is to his company š, Forced blow job, Choking, Degradation, Facial, Hand job, Mentions of forced threesome, Hair pulling, P in v sex, Knives, Mentions of blood/gore/violence/corpse mutilation/Torture/Physical abuse
Master list
Cheater!Jeremy Blaire is a bastard. He knows it, pretty much everyone in Mount Massive knows it. Does he care? No. He has ultimate power in the facility and no one dares to question him. Not even when they all know he has a wife at home. Of course, she satisfies him, he doesn't ever deny that, and he adores her, but he canāt exactly act out his sick little depravities on his wife of eight years now, can he?
Thatās why Cheater!Jeremy does what he does, to āget it out of his systemā he says, to allow himself to flush his system of all waste before he arrives home. Richard Trager is a bad influence on him, heās seen what he does when everyone turns a blind eye, so Jeremy does it too. And after he experienced it for the first time, the rush was exhilarating.
Cheater!Jeremy is unfaithful to his wife because no one cowers in fear better than you do. A gorgeous little monster who transferred two years ago. Yes, heās been cheating on his wife for two years, but itās your fault, not his. If you hadnāt appeared the way you did, he probably would have gone straight home every day like he used to, never working late and always being loyal and honest to the woman he married.
Cheater!Jeremy noticed you second, Trager noticed you first. He saw you and Rick alone in an old store room, totally abandoned besides your screams, Rickās laughter. Since then, Jeremy canāt go home without doing something to you. It could be torture, degrading words or just anything to make you uncomfortable. Either way, he gets satisfaction out of it.
Sometimes Cheater!Jeremy uses that gratification and takes it home to fuck his own wife. Other times that's not enough and he seeks relief immediately. Once, he made Rick watch-Okay, a few times. On one occasion, he was so riled up, he had Rick jerk him off and point his ejaculate over your face just because he could.
People say that Cheater!Jeremy is a sadist. Heās just a sick piece of shit. More than a sadist. An opportunist.
Opportunities come few and far between when thereās a drought, and Cheater!Jeremy takes each and every one of them, even if it did mean ripping you from sleep and sharing you with Rick one night. āWorking lateā was always the excuse whenever he used you, to justify to his wife and himself that there is nothing wrong with what heās doing.
Okay, Cheater!Jeremy knows what he was doing is wrong, he just doesnāt care. Heās well past the regret period, in fact, he never experienced it after he started working for Murkoff. Like an expectation on a first date, a rite of passage that never came.Ā
Cheater!Jeremy doesnāt care, not when you suck his cock the way you do when youāre frightened, it makes him come quicker. A fistful of your hair slips between his fingers and he watches you, an impassive look on his face that seems to unsettle you more. You canāt gauge whether heās enjoying it, thatās on a need to know basis and you arenāt part of it.
Another thing you do, Cheater!Jeremy enjoys how coy you still act despite doing this for as long as you have. You should come to expect it by now. The guards collect you and take you to his office, nothing disgusting and dirty like how Rick enjoys things. Just his office, a glass of scotch before he drives home and you sitting on his lap, shivering like a leaf.
Cheater!Jeremy never thinks about his wife when heās with you, heās developed quite a liking to you. Her name never leaves his lips, but yours has almost a few times while balls deep inside her.
Now, itās not that Cheater!Jeremy has any loving inclinations towards you, he gives you nothing that isn't entirely for his own benefit, but there comes a time where thereās a point in the day that he canāt stop thinking about you. Itās a compulsion, like a magnet force that brings him closer to you by the end of that day and he canāt stop until heās had you.
Thatās what you do to him. Thatās what keeps him coming back.
And your pussy is magic.
It sucks Cheater!Jeremy in every time, the warmth, the homeliness. Itās probably why after a while, he stops inviting Rick to watch and he stops him mentioning you all together. Itās partially the reason he allowed his friend to take part in the engine. Now heās not allowed near you at all. He canāt answer the question when he asks himself.
"Why? Why do I keep her around?" He canāt answer it.
Cheater!Jeremy keeps fucking you more when you say 'no' now. With... Rick the way he is, he needs some consistency. And with the suspicion thereās a whistleblower amongst his herd, he fucks you rougher, takes his frustrations out in you to prove a point.
Cheater!Jeremy begins to choke you for longer, at one point you almost donāt revive. Your screams become more hollow as though youāre giving up. But he still continues, he still doesnāt let you have a moment's rest. Especially when Mount Massive removes all of the women after the morphogenic engineās affects. He keeps you in his office after that and stays with you the night of the data leak, Waylon park has been on his shit list for the last forty-eight hours just waiting to trip him up, and he does.
Cheater!Jeremyās instincts are never wrong. Heās never wrong about youā¦ Until the night Waylon Park is captured.
That day, Cheater!Jeremy had his way with you. He shoves his cock down your throat and holds you there, on the phone to his wife while you gag and tap his thighs to let you go. You go red, rosy cheeked and he watches how your eyes roll back.Ā
Cheater!Jeremy comes on the phone to his wife using his pretty little asylum toy. The only one left and he plans on making full use of you to rid himself of these urges for control. Running the asylum is not enough. That night, itās as though his body knows something big is about to happen.
And it does. Cheater!Jeremy sees the entire facility go into complete chaos. Thatās where you come in. That night, you fight back. You hold the knife after managing to avoid more assault and harm from the other patients.
A knife that happens to drive through Cheater!Jeremyās guts with a scream of pure hatred. How the fuck did you find this? How the hell were you able to get it off another man. Youāre already covered in blood that isnāt yours, and he watches you add more of his own to your tatty uniform.
āGood luck in hell.ā You say with a sadist chuckle, watching Cheater!Jeremyās wide eyes like a crazy bitch, stopped short once you hear chains down the hall. Thatās when you leave despite the way he grips onto your clothes. He doesnāt see you again that night.
But by some miracle, Cheater!Jeremy manages to survive the night, a month recovery before heās back in the office chair. You are nowhere to be seen and your body isnāt recovered by Murkoffās teams. So where are you? Youāre alive, he knows it, he just canāt pin point where.Ā
Cheater!Jeremy tries to cover his tracks and initiates a state wide search to find you, and bring you back. The Murkoff secret is contained, Waylon Park is no longer alive, so itās just you unaccounted for.
Cheater!Jeremy finds himself missing you, yearning to abuse and ruin you while he mourns his dead friend. He needs you more than he does his own wife because you know exactly what heās going through, donāt you? But that need soon develops into seething hatred.
Cheater!Jeremy learns how much heās hated you since the very beginning. You ran away from him when he wasn't finished with you.
Cheater!Jeremy wants to make you cry at least once more in his lifetime and see the light drain from your eyes by his bare hands for stabbing him. He wants to defile your corpse just because he can, and he doesnāt hide his urges anymore, not after he erects a cork board shrine of your face and whereabouts on his office wall. He has to find you, and soon, in case you try to inform his wife.
He canāt lose his wife because of you.
How on earth is he going to tell his wife if you beat him to it?
Drawing based on Easterman's journal entry "Not Unpleasant"
Had to censor Lupara š Most sites are strict about gun stuff, especially since this might look like something else. I swear Easterman is just being a little freak in this!!
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