#i can even smell the blood and sweat 😭😭

[softiedingo]

#PLEASE

[free-sugar]

mad scientist!yandere x franken!reader

includes; dubcon, virgin!reader, gender neutral!reader, overstimulation, mention of drugs, pet names, experimentation, mentions of a fatal accident, yan is bossy asl 😒, rimming (reader receiving), yan is a perv high-key, etc

Mad Scientist!Yan was born into long line of fantastic, admirable and scientific minds. All have set out to do the impossible: They want the power to control life itself. Ten generations of people scouring the land, testing themselves, searching for the answer to the concept that was resurrection and everlasting life.

Mad Scientist!Yan, sadly, (despite being the most intelligent person in his line 😭) doesn't give a damn about any of that....

....until he sees what happened to you.

Mad Scientist!Yan has always been popular despite his intelligence; he had always excelled in connecting with people (despite being insane). So, when he's too scared to approach you, he doesn't panic- he plans. He redirects.

Mad Scientist!Yan never approaches you directly. He enjoyed, well, studying you from afar. He felt embarrassed using his gifts and talents to be a pervert, but he began to warm up to his true nature.

Mad Scientist!Yan spends months watching you, years noting down everything he knew about you; he knows everything, from the smell of your sweat to your most... intimate habits and preferences (you sicko 🫵🤨).

Mad Scientist!Yan has dozens of informants, his doting sycophants who help him keep hundreds of tabs on you - your life has been documented at length without your knowledge.

Mad Scientist!Yan would have been content with this forever - but people don't live forever. Your time would, very abruptly, run out.

Mad Scientist!Yan was unlucky that day. He was on his way to your favorite coffee shop, since it was the time you usually went. He was particularly happy, too, because he loved seeing your face when the cashier (like clockwork) said, "Someone already paid for your drink!" He had the thought in his head when he saw the totaled cars, then the blood, then-

Mad Scientist!Yan sees your body splayed on the ground. You are in pieces.

You are no more...

No, he thinks, watching the authorities collect you, feeling himself be pushed away with the crowd, this isn't the end them. It can't! I haven't even spoken to them.

No, he thinks, I can fix this.

1 funeral later, your body goes missing.

1 moth later, you are patched together.

1 year later, you open your eyes.

He presses the button hard, sending shocks of feverish pleasure through you. You feel hotter than hot, sweatier than ever before.

Fuck, you think, he's going to break me.

You had no idea why you agreed to stay here. You barely knew the guy! Gratitude was due, sure, but... Did you really have to let him get freak nasty with your body?

You could have contacted your loved ones by now, but here you are, getting diddled by a freaky mad genius who had (apparently) been stalking you for months on end before your death!

“Ah… Ah…” you gasp, wriggling in your restraints. “Too much… It's so hot…”

“You must endure, sweetness,” he says, thumb still jumping on the button of the device. A cylinder inside the base of your spine releases the painkillers and the euphoria-inducing substance of your yandere’s own making. “It is my mission to mix pleasure and progress.”

I know! you think. You always say that!

“I'm… I'm going to cum—”

“Don't be bad, kitten,” he says, gripping your weakened legs with an iron grip. It was a warning, a message. “You know you don't cum without permission. You KNOW you listen.”

Tears well in your eyes as he stares both firmly and dreamily at you. “It's probably so intense for you. So exciting…”

You couldn't move much right then. He had the device that activated your body fully was completely shut off. All you could do is watch him spark up your most tender and sensitive sweet spots...

“I'll be your first time once I heal you completely,” he says giddily. You find him horrifying and eerie, but you'd never tell him that. “I can't wait to see you cry. It'll so sweet… I'll make sure you won't feel a second of pain.”

He leans down and throws your legs over his shoulders. A strong, hot tongue fucks your virgin asshole, wriggling and exploring your depths. He never stops pushing the button, either; you are at the mercy of his lust and invention. When he comes up to breath, he circles your rim hungrily, and you unwillingly reward him with whimpers and groans.

“Ah,” he gasps, looking up at you. “You came, kitten? You're supposed to wait for my orders.

“Now we have to start over.”

[ghouljams]

i sent this concept before so if you really hate it you can ignore it again but since we’re talking about abo. afab beta reader who’s omegacurious. like she really wishes she could be knotted and bred by an alpha but she doesn’t have the anatomy to take the knot without getting hurt cause her stupit guts get in the way 😭 still she fearlessly buys knotted dildos and trains her ass on them before asking her alpha best friend if he can pretty please knot and breed her 🥰 if she dies she dies

I actually don't know if I've gotten your ask before, but if I had I'm sure my answer would've been the same!

Everyone regardless of endotype can "take" a knot in my au. Human bodies are so stretchy it doesn't make sense that there'd be a hole(save mouths) that couldn't take a little extra stretching. So plenty of betas have alpha partners and have no trouble being knotted. Mostly because it has always been really weird to me that Betas were included in the gender hierarchy but were somehow completely divorced from it as well?? So in my omegaverse everyone can smell pheromone signatures, everyone has a fertility cycle, and everyone can take a knot.

The only people that really run into any issues are alpha/alpha relationships, especially m/f alpha relationships, but not because they can't take a knot... :3c

-

You can feel yourself tightening, your knot starting to squeeze Knönig's cock as he fucks you closer and closer to orgasm. The way his thick cock stretches you out, forces your knot back, makes your eyes roll. It makes your cunt tingle with heat, the stretch burning through your core. Each thrust hits you deep and hard in a way that aches, arching your spine, pushing moans from your chest that König greedily swallows down. His tongue invades your mouth, his scent invades your nose, the stick of his sweat on your skin makes your head spin. He's a glass of water at midnight, best taken in gulping, gasping breaths until you're sated. You're never sated.

The only problem is the fat knot that's starting to press against your entrance. The same entrance that's trying to lock him in place. The first time it had happened you'd been so worried about tearing that you'd almost broken his nose trying to kick him off of you, now you know better. You can feel the way your body relaxes even as your stomach tightens. Your muscles shake with tension ready to be released, but the way his fingers rub against your clit coaxes them towards melting as well. You're caught. Tensed and teased into this gasping writhing mess.

You can feel the rush of adrenaline already spiking when his hands grip your hips. His teeth snag against your bottom lip, crooked, chipped in the front from too many fights, tempting in their ability to draw blood.

"Ready liebchen?" He asks, his grip on your hips tightened to bruising. Your forehead knocks against his when you nod, your breath shuddering too much to think about speaking. Especially not when his fingers flex, and you're suddenly, achingly, full of him.

There's no build up, no gentleness, he pulls you onto his knot with a conviction that makes you think he could pull the moon from the sky. You're stretched past your limit, your own knot forced back into place, before the sudden rush of pretty, tingling, fullness snaps your control like a bow string, and your orgasm crashes into you like a wave. The way König moans as your internal knot squeezes tight around his is music to your ears. Tied to each other. You can feel the first hot spurt of come hitting your overworked walls.

König hum, grinding into you in a way that makes you whimper.

"There now," he coos, "easier every time." His big hand rests low on your stomach, his thumb rubbing lazily at your clit. You can feel the way your walls pulse around him, your poor pussy doing it's best to milk his stupid cock for all it's worth. He moves to rub at the soft stretched skin around your entrance, pushing at the spongy knot that hides under your skin. The feeling makes you gasp, your legs kicking at him uselessly as he massages the area, bringing you right back to the edge. "I think she's starting to like me." The smile in his voice could peel paint off the wall.

"Stop moving please." A vain plea. You know it'll be mere minutes before he's trying to fuck his knot past yours and then you'll both be begging.

[ma1dita]

im begging on my knees for you to see my vision of riding Luke in the driver’s seat of a car after a stressful and dangerous quest 😩😭 THE TENSION!? THE ROUGHNESS??

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

mdni

luke castellan x reader

a/n: it's 7am... i... don't know either. smut. unprotected sex. semi public. slight exhibitionism

wc: 835

riding luke in the driver's seat of a car he stole while accompanying you on your first official quest.... having a car was a quicker way to get the job done he said, and chris also reasoned the old lady they carjacked won't know what she's missing. with two sons of hermes against you, even if you disagreed with them they still wouldn't hear a single complaint from your lips once you could sit in the ac instead of trod through the summer midwestern heat.

a week later you're sitting in the parking lot of a motel in rural illinois. one second you're grinning over the success of your quest and waiting for chris to come back with the room key and the next second luke's pulling you over the console into a bruising kiss that makes his cracked lips bleed. days ago you remember watching luke pick the locks of this car just as easy as he flicks your belt open just now, your knees digging into the hot metal of the seatbelt mechanism next to his thighs as you rise up from your haunches and he can see the sweat glistening on your tummy, back arching over the steering wheel. your shirt flies over his shoulders and lands somewhere in the backseat. shorts following as quick as he can pull them off you, slick rubbing against the meat of your thighs so much that when you sit back down on his lap he can feel it through his jeans---the heat isn't just coming from the red glow of the motel sign almost vibrating with the words 'open 24/7'.

he presses your back across the wheel, one hand snaking up to your throat and the other dragging your panties to the side for him to peek and prod at in the dim light. with his seat leaned all the way back, he watches you like you're something out of the porn magazine chris jokingly nicked from the gas station earlier, shiny with sweat and something he can smell, desire reeking from every pore of your tired body. demigod aside, you're a fucking fever dream, a nasty thought that keeps luke hard at night until he can jack off when everyone finally goes to sleep in cabin 11. the only thing he'll be thanking the gods for is the fact that his brother left you two long enough for a quick fuck.

"luke, we're still dirty," you mumble, but he knows you couldn't care less, both of you covered in blood and grime and unable to know where he ends and you begin once his fly goes down and you sink onto him like a perfect mold. this is filthier---the feeling of your pussy clenching down on him tight with every thrust of your hips downwards like he'd ever want to leave this small slice of heaven.

"f-fuck, just like that...you're so tight f'me..."

you grab onto his curls to make him look at you in the dim lighting, dipping your fingers into his mouth as you rock your hips hard and he sucks on them like they're covered in nectar---sharp tongue and plump lips dancing around your digits despite the dirt under your nails but he's entranced by the way your eyes roll back once he starts fighting against your rhythm. it's not a competition but with every noise that spills from your lips as he pistons into your sopping warmth, he thinks he might be winning.

"so dirty baby... you're right... feels too good to stop though huh?" he grins at the sound of sticky skin slapping once he bucks his hips up faster. through the steamy windshield, he can see curtains rustling in the windows near where he parked the car. maybe it's the way the whole vehicle is shaking with the force of your hips, the headlights he accidentally turned back on when taking your clothes off, or maybe its the way you're screaming his name like you want someone to hear.

"oh, luke, i can't! slow down, people are gonna...see!"

you're holding onto his shoulders and peeking at his face through teary lashes and this motherfucker has his tongue between his lips smiling---mortals be damned. they can watch if they want, regardless he fucks into you like he means it. until you fall apart on his cock and there are red handprints on your hips from where he pulls you off of him, the both of you pulling at his cock with his hands over yours until hot streaks of cum paint your tummy to your tits.

there's a knock at the window. rolling the window down at eye level, luke makes eye contact with chris who looks at his brother with a knowing grin. you've thrown your head onto his shoulder in embarassment, sandwiching the multiple stains and fluids between your shaking bodies.

"shower's open. you guys were... occupied so i went ahead. you both need it," chris smirks, before sliding luke the extra key card.

and he's right. the both of you need a shower. good thing the next step after getting dirty is scrubbing each other clean, right?

[akiranzee]

Hiiiii^^

Do you stilo take request? If yes can I please request Muzan with a newly turned s/o? She just got turned into a demon and is still weak but slowly discovers her Blood Demon Art and makes hin proud

👫 • ° ` — \\ “STAY BY ME”

╰┈➤ PAIRINGS: muzan x demon!y/n ╰┈➤ W/C: 0.5k+ ╰┈➤ CONTAINS: fluff, & muzan is 1,000 while reader is 23. ╰┈➤ A/N: HELPP THIS HAD SO MANY TIMESKIPS SRY😭😭 i was actually braindead for this one

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------------Complete!------------

“y/n, you’re training again?” muzan appears right behind you, sauntering towards you as you exhaled exhaustedly, not bothering to look back at him.

for a demon, you were as weak as a human, hell — maybe even some ordinary humans are stronger than you.

“what did i say about training so late?” muzan’s voice was strict of warning, but it was far from threatening. he grabbed your wrist and tugged you back inside your shared house, but you stubbornly tried to pull away.

“i... i have to get stronger, muzan.” you stammer, “i was so weak that i almost died, but... you saved me and gave me this second chance, and i’m not gonna waste it.”

muzan can only sigh of the determination within your eyes, but he too, was a stubborn man himself. and so, he carried you on his shoulder in one swift motion, and despite your attempts to squirm and wiggle away, his grip on your waist and thighs never wavered.

a soft squeak could be heard as he gently dropped you to the bed, “sleep.” he demanded, and left the bedroom.

~~~~~

months had passed, and you still hadn’t discovered what your blood demon art is, you’re starting to think you don’t even have one.

no matter how many trees you’ve destroyed, no matter how much flesh you ate, no matter how much blood you drank, you were still as fragile as a human.

you wanted to give up, despite your driving force of being helpful to your beloved muzan, you were just a hopeless case of a demon.

months passed once again, and still, your blood demon art had no signs of showing. you thought to the point if it was because your training sessions were so quick, barely above three hours before muzan picks you up and drops you to bed.

so, you decided, that after he does that, you sneak out to the window, making sure to go further into the forest so he wouldn’t hear a single sound of your struggles, cluelessly unknowing about muzan’s ability to still be able to see you.

as you reached the forest, slowly, you closed your eyes and steadied your breathing, as you urged yourself forward and brought all your energy to your fist, which landed heavily on the tree right in front of you.

yet, still, nothing had changed.

thump, thud, thwack. hours had passed, maybe an hour left before the sun had risen. sweat and tears were dripping from your face, frustratedly punching the tree at random.

as a lone tear dripped down from your face, and as a loud yell emerged from your throat, suddenly, a light yellowish light had appeared from your fists, then, the tree had fallen to the ground, in a burnt color and smell.

panting, a soft, sophisticated clapping could be heard from behind you. immediately, you turned around and saw muzan sauntering towards you, “very well, i congratulate you for disobeying me once again, y/n.” the fake, friendly smile had been lost in his handsome face as he said your name, now looking at you with disappointment and dread.

a single sweat had dropped to the side of your temple, and in that swift, single second, did he finally carry you off the ground and on his shoulders.

despite his unfriendly demeanor, it wouldn’t take a genius to see the pride in his smile.

★ • ° ` — BONUS:

“and what did i say again?” a deep voice emerged from the depths of the forest again, but this didn’t scare you as this was a usual occurrence every now and then.

“hehe...” you turned towards the darkness, and slowly then did your beloved emerged from there.

swiftly, for almost a hundredth time, did he pick you off the ground and carried you on his shoulders again.

“muzaaaaaann i almost got it!” you squirmed around, but both of you knew you didn’t want him to let go of you.

“congrats.” he said in pure sarcasm, in a monotone voice with no interest.

as you reached your bedroom once again, muzan tied both your hands together;

“this time for sure, you can’t escape me.”

───────────── ☆ ─────────────

© akiranzee || do not steal, plagiarize, or repost my works without my permission.

[papil0nglegs]

Sweet n’ Sour 👛 (pt.2)

Tf2 x “nice”Reader

A/n: Here’s pt.1 if you don’t know what this fic is abt, ik I said I was going to do my own fic after the last one I made but I couldn’t think of anything sooo I’m just doing this. I might do a ‘tf2 x Snooki!Reader’ cuz I just started watching jersey shore and I love it (also you could tell I put my whole heart and ass into snipers section)

warnings: Slut shaming, Reader and Sniper banging, enemies to lovers, hatefuck (sorry this one’s wild)

Pyro

Pyro quickly took a liking to you because of your girly nature, he loved your style

He’s only ever been on your good side, painting nails reading magazines gossiping etc.

He’s such a girls man. No, not a ladies man, a girls man

“Holy fuck! Snooki got arrested”

“Mm mffmm mmm?”

*from jersey shore??

“Yes from jersey shore!!”

Of course you two are duos on the battlefield, skipping happily around the blu teams base as it burns down

Def owns one of those heart friendship necklaces

About him being a girls man, he always makes sure you look good on the battlefield

Loves picking out outfits with you and always carries around something he knows you’ll forget

“Shit! I forgot to put on lipgloss..”

“Mmm mmphm mm?”

*here, cherry bomb right?

“gasp Omg I love you so much 💕”

You and Pyro would have the loving best friend relationship, kissing each others cheek and shit

Doing makeup on mask>>>>

Imagine the fake lashes along w the blush 😭 he loves it

lol put big anime girl eyes on him pls

“You’re fucking chewing right now P.”

“mmm mm!!!”

*thank you!!

Sniper

He hated you when he first saw you omg. Sniper is introverted cuz he got bullied and school, so now he automatically thinks any girl with even a slightly feminine style is bitchy

To be fair you were.. to him

Srry but he got annoyed with you so fast, it started a hefty rivalry between you and snipes

“Where’s princess prissy?”

“Uhm I know you’re not talking about me, at least I actually go down there to fight unlike you in the sidelines.”

It’s always something with you guys istg

He has to admit (but won’t) , he loves watching you destroy the enemy team the way you do from afar. Blood and guts getting in your hair and pretty face. Whenever you catch him staring at you you always give him the finger, makes him chuckle despite how much he ‘hates’ you

Sometimes he has to leave more than piss in his jars

He still kept the enemy streak but it was just to hide his feelings

The mercs get so sick of your guys’s attitude, they practically begged Miss Pauling to send you and sniper off to a mission so they can get a break. She obliged

“Yeah I’m not working with him, sorry! I’d rather go back to juvie than go sleep in his musty van.”

“Bonzy, wouldn’t want to smell your bloody strong perfume all over me van ya whore.”

“I’d rather smell like strong perfume than someone who hangs around piss jars and has coffee breath!!”

Miss Pauling immediately understood why the mercs wanted you guys to go away. And so she forced you to stay in his ‘musty van’ for a week so that you both can go assassinate god knows who. Safe to say it wasn’t an easy trip.

“Ay, I’m gonna go hunt for dinner, you comin’?

“Why the fuck would I wanna go with you?? Bye.”

damn, you didn’t have to end him like that 😭

You felt something when this bitch came back with a 14ft alligator, dragging it by the tail back to the van. You bit your lip staring at him as he wiped the sweat from his forehead

You asked him to hook up, you tried to be subtle but it just turned out uneasy to say the least

“Hey I liked the way you um.. dragged that crocodile back there”

“Chuckle it was a alligator, Sheila”

“Of course you know the difference..”

You blushed, along with him, laughing awkwardly, biting your pink painted thumbnail while he scratched the back of his neck

Cut to you guys waking up naked in his bed all sweaty

Hate fucking or not, now instead of the mercs being annoyed of you hating each other too much, they hate how much you love each other

“Cmon guys not in the goddamn break room..”

“Sorry, I just love his black coffee breath”

“And I love the smell of the perfume I got ya”

“God I fucking hate it when you use Australian slang..”

You still did your thing in the break room

Spy

He has so much hate in his heart for you, and it shows

The difference between him and sniper is that he doesn’t like ANYTHING about you, especially the way you fight

Sure it surprised him when you showed off how you fought, but he didn’t take a liking to it

While trying to sneak up on an enemy sniper, you immediately bashed their head in with your pink hammer. He glared at you so hard

“😐”

“What shitface?? Say something. I got impatient you were taking too long.”

This guy wants nothing to do with you, if you get assigned to a mission together he’ll have his way to sneak out of it.

In the expiration date short you wrote

Fuck you <3

On the paper he handed to everyone along with a drawing of a middle finger for the bucket thing he did

How did he know it was you? You made the hand look exactly like yours, acrylic nails and all.

You and scout started giggling like school girls

“..would anyone else like to insult me??”

soldier slowly raising his hand

Posting on your story in the middle of a battle is such a good way to mess with him, just doing the peace sign while he stays frustrated in the background

‘This old fuck really expects me to kill this big bitch alone 😹😹 Lol he fucking wishes, anyways I’m prob gonna get in trouble bcuz of this but IDRC 💜 #ellieandmasonhouse’

He wants to kill you so bad, sadly you’re one of the most useful mercs on the team. But if you weren’t he’d be so down to kill you

[brendaareiss]

MORE HEADCANONS? FUCK YEAH BECAUSE I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT THEM

-Andre has bacne. One of Cal's favourite activities, is sitting on his back and popping some of his pimples. He would always say "eww" "gross, dude!" but he won't stop. Andre would be hissing all the fucking time, because sometimes Cal forgots that Andre's a human and feels pain.

- Cal lent his skincare to Andre. He instantly said that "doing that shit is for faggots" and yada yada, but he actually uses it because WOW! IT WORKSS!

- Andre's natural body smell is really strong. Like, you'll instantly know it's him if he walks beside or behind you. (When he sweats, of course it's worse)

- Cal has really bad higiene. He only showers or brushes his teeth when he has to get out of home.

-(If they haven't shot up their school) they would enjoy singing "Take me out" and "Bring me to life" together (Cal's the female voice, Andre's the male voice).

- The kind of bullying that they've received is different. Andre's never received physical bulling, the bulling that he received was being alienated, getting insulted, people whispering really loud beside him and no-one wanting to be around him. The bulling that Cal received, was physical, but at least, some people could stand being beside him or some people liked him.

- Andre got braces when he was a kid, they've got removed when he hit puberty (at twelve or thirteen)

- Cal has been locked up in a mental hospital before, but even then, his parents didn't actually believe him. They thought he was doing it for attention because he was jealous of his younger siblings.

- This is potentiated because Cal doesn't actually like his siblings, he can stand his younger brother though

- Also, the relationship with his parents started to be WAY WORSE when his siblings were born.

- Cal's siblings names are Cassie and Carl

- Andre's relationship with his dad wasn't that bad, he just was more attached to his mother. (Immigrant dad's usually are more distant to their children, specifically if they're son's instead of daughter's. I'm saying this by being a child of immigrants too hehe)

- Andre brushes his teeth like REALLY HARD, there's usually a bit of blood in his toothbrush

- Andre prefers ass, Cal prefers boobs 🙏

- Cal is a little bit allergic to cats, not too much though, he just sneezes when he gets cat's fur near him

- Half of Cal's wardrobe were Andre's clothes first. Some of them, was actually given to him, other ones were stolen. The most recent ones are usually his pajama, because it still has Andre's smell.

- If you see them without belts, they're not them. Especially Cal (if he doesn't wear a belt his pants would literally fall down)

- They share pants, Andre wears Cal's because they're baggy and they fit him well, Cal wears Andre's because they're slightly baggy on him.

- Cal was spoiled as a kid, Andre was not.

- Andre's brother (Thomas) ended up being a drugaddict and dropping his studies. That's why Andre's parents (especially his dad) put a lot of pressure on him.

Yall are these enough? 😭

[scribesoflex]

going quietly - ethan landry

a/n; she’s here!!! thanks for waiting, i love u 🫶🏻 also there’s def bound to be spelling errors, and grammar or punctuation mistakes even after reading it a billion times- I wrote on my phone this time 😭

pairing; e2l nongf!ethanxfem!reader

warnings; smut! mentions of stabbing, blood, violence, mentions of killing/death, bickering, stabbing, brief panicked hospital, ghost face attack, smut, kissing, making out, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex (do not try this irl), cream pie, sub ethan undertones

taglist; @elinanova @fanboyluvr @ghswlz @bajadotcom @oscarisdaddy69 @nuhteyam @certifiedpussyeater @lunaoieoie @hotweeb @beautyb1ade @vivianbay @doingurmomma @multishippinghoe @luvmara @lilluna @jaysarchiv3 @iovemoonyy @shaylaaaaa16 @nini123 @bloodyv7mp @inlovewmikewh33ler @karacaroldanvers @nishinoyastoes @zxvcq @luv-4-jj @sluttt444slashersss @fuaq

music

Big round puppy dog eyes are staring down at you, a sense of faux innocence masking the curly headed boy you swear you hate right now. You can’t stand him, really. In all his good boy, golden retriever, dork glory. You don’t believe it for a second.

So why do you have this feeling in your stomach, a warm heat that sparks when he’s this close. When you can smell the cologne on him, and the musky sweat from running all over New York. The dark bags forming beneath his shiny eyes that make him look almost dead, the purple and red bruise on his cheek bone, the dark blue long sleeve that’s far too form fitting. Why do you stare at his biceps, watching the way his long thick fingers run down the side of his pretty face.

He could be a murderer. He could be plotting to kill you at this very moment. Maybe he looks at you that way because he wants to make it hurt. Why do you want him to make it hurt? Why does the thought of him behind a mask you’ve come to hate have heat pooling between your legs? Maybe the lack of sleep, and the inability to escape this killer has finally gotten to your head. Maybe you’re actually going insane.

“Hey! Are you listening?” Sam draws you out of your thoughts. Your eyes land on her, suddenly a pounding in your head, and a pain from your side that has you grimacing. You mutter a ‘what?’ pressing your palm into the stab wound, blood seeping from your side, through the material of your black tank top, running down the cracks of your fingers down your wrist.

She frowns at you, eyes looking at Ethan before they land on you again, as if she’s already regretting what she’s about to say “Ethan should take you to the hospital- you’ll bleed out” she does regret it. Knows that if Ethan is the killer that he’ll leave you to die in alley somewhere, but if he isn’t and he doesn’t take you to the hospital, you could die after getting away a third time. Knows you’d haunt her if she let that happen.

You glare up at Ethan through your lashes, can feel the tears gathering at your lash line, but reach up to grab his shoulder anyway “if you kill me and survive, I’ll haunt you for the remainder of your sad life Jack ass” you threaten, and he hums, slipping his arm round your waist, placing his hand just above yours.

You limp down from the apartment, loosing strength by the minute, forced to lean more into Ethan as he tried for a cab. When one finally pulls to the side you slide in, ethan sliding in a little too close next to you.

“When I save your life, I better get the greatest thanks known to mankind” he mumbles, lifting your shirt a little to asses the damage, “I hope that hurts” he tacks on, whispering it bitterly into your ear.

‧ ⨯ . ⁺ +. ✦ ⸝⸝ ✧ 𓂂 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🪩 ﹅ ੭

When you walk through the ER doors, you’re bombarded with a flock of nurses, ushering you to the nearest bed. Ethan trails behind, lost like a puppy, stumbling after the nurses as they scurry around, asking them what they’re doing or how long it’ll take. You roll your eyes, scoffing at his idiocy. The boy has clearly never even scraped his knee falling off a bike, much less been in an ER with someone who’s been stabbed. It makes you anxious.

“Ethan! Just sit!” You whisper yell, whipping his head as you call his name, his features falling as you scold him. He slumps into the leather chair not far from the bed you’re sat on, cradling his cheek in his palm. He just watches you, eyes fleeting from your wound, to your face, clearly trying to decipher what you’re thinking or how you’re feeling.

You roll your eyes again “Quit staring creep” you press your lips into a flat line, trying not to laugh as the nurse coming closer side eyes him hearing your words, your spin straightens, a hiss escaping your lips as she begins rattling on about what’s going to happen.

You already know of course, the scar on the back of your left shoulder a reminder, you’ll need sedated, an iv drip, stitches, blah blah blah. This time you’ll have to leave earlier, no way you can afford to stay for 48 hours, don’t care how much blood you’ve lost or how weak you are. Ethan can see it in your eyes as the lay you back, what you’re plotting, the way you don’t even flinch when they stick your side with whatever, or when they stitch you up. You do look at him when they cut your shirt off, and he doesn’t look away for once.

When they’re done, eleven stitches later, and you’re laying back in the bed with an IV in your arm the small secluded area becomes flooded with an awkward silence.

“We need to leave” you sigh, eyes glancing to the clock, you’ve only been gone two hours max. Unfortunately you know well enough a lot can happen in two hours.

Ethan sits up stripping in his chair, shaking his head with drawn brows “If something happens we’ll know” he stands, coming to the edge of your bed “you need this though” his fingers thrum against the needle in your arm, the small touch has your skin breaking out in goosebumps, fingers tightening their grip on the sheet beneath you.

“Why are you being so fucking sweet to me” you grimace, face forming a scowl. You sit up just enough so that your eyes are closer to his, but he’s obviously taller than you, leaving you forced to glare up at him. His brows draw together and he crosses his arms over his chest, the muscle of his biceps bulging beneath the dark blue shirt, from the angle he looks less boyish. Dark eyes staring you down, jaw clenched in clear aggravation, lips forming a hard line instead of a cute pout.

“Why are you always such a bitch to me?” He shoots back, voice low so that nobody hears, but loud enough that you can tell he’s clearly angry.

“Maybe I’m just a bitch” you shrug.

“Maybe you’re just a liar” he cocks a brow, shrugging back.

Before you can jest back, the fire alarm rings through the hospital, water spraying down from above, lights dimming down so that the flash from the alarms is evident.

You’re ripping the iv from your arm and slipping on Ethan’s jacket, zipping it up, and yanking him quickly towards the exit before a nurse can even reach you. As you make your way through the panicked crowd, your fingers lace together, tightly wound so you don’t get separated.

The ER of a New York City hospital is hard enough to get in and out as is, fire alarm only added stress and the halls flood and become to crowded to even see the nearest exit. Bodies are pushing against and in between the both of you, shouting and babies crying, water blurring your vision as you try and tunnel a way out.

“Ethan, we need to get out now! There are no coincidences in our movie!” You warn, hoping he gets the message, your spine going rigid when your fingers are forced apart and the start of a reply is muffled as your bodies are pushed apart. You spin on your heel, pushing through bodies, wincing in pain when someone elbows your stitches. A shoe catches your boot, loosing balance you stumble to your feet, people don’t bother helping you up as they pass.

You crawl, the rips in your jeans leaving skin visible to bruise against the wet hard floor, someone steps on your fingers and you yelp out, forcing yourself to your feet with your hand cradled to your chest. Your fingers ache, unbendable, your curse under your breath, squinting as people push past you, trying your best to find Ethan’s face in the crowd.

You fail to see him, ready to give up and call out for him, when you see it. The white mouth, faux mouth smiling menacingly, looking directly at you. They tilt their head, knife waving in the air in front of them, teasing you with a fake stab motion the their chest. You frown, looking to your left and then right, and when you look back they’re gone. Panic sets in, and you bolt to the door on your right, shaky hands twisting and pulling at the knob. Locked. You curse under your breath, looking over your shoulder, before you fall to a squat, walking along the edge of the wall.

Your eyes are frantic, watching the feet you pass for the end of a black cloak, heart wild in your chest. Your palms are sweating, fingers and hands shaking, knees aching as you creep around a corner, escaping the crowd. You slump against the wall, knees pulled tightly to your chest, erratic breathing. The sprinklers have stopped now, but the water makes your mascara run, eyes aching, body now cold, your side aching. You’re alone, Ethan had to have gotten out, but the ghost face is here and you’re alone.

What if the ghost face got to Ethan first? The thought has your stomach twisting, nausea crawling up your throat, you slump forward onto your palms, breakfast spilling all over the floor. Tears have now crept past your lash line, falling down your cheeks to the ground, legs shaking as you stand. You press your palm to your wound, blood seeping through Ethan’s jacket, staining your skin. A stitch must’ve broken.

You peek around the corner, the last of crowd escaping through the exits, and then look the opposite way. Deciding that the ghost face couldn’t have gotten far, you begin jogging towards the exit you’d originally intended leaving out, foot steps heavy against the damp ground.

Before you can even get half way there, a scream echoes through the halls, a guy clearly. The thought of it being Ethan has you stopping in your tracks, spinning around to see where it could’ve come from.

“Ethan! Ethan where are you!” You shout, greeted by the screech of sneakers on the ground, you flinch, head whipping around in the direction of the sound. The bed you’d been at, curtains pulled closed, a figure looming in the distance “shit” you grumble, rolling your eyes as you run in the direction of the figure.

Your hands are shaking, fingers hesitant as you reach to yank the curtains back, and when you do large hand wrap around your shoulders, sending you tumbling backwards. You scream in protest, staring up into the eyes of the mask, one of your hands meets the side of their face, knocking them in the jaw, rolling of of you with a grunt. You scurry to your feet, eyes searching for the knife, failing to see as they stand up far too quickly, gripping the hair at the base of your neck, yanking you backwards into their chest.

You protest “let me go you motherfucker!” you shout, elbowing them, lurching across the bed falling flat onto your face into Ethan’s chest. You gasp, palms flat against his chest, straddling him as his eyes struggle to stay open. Blood touches your fingertips, his shirt open revealing a stab to his shoulder, and then you notice the blood pooling his curly head.

You’re about to say something when his arms wrap around you, your bodies rolling to the right, you look to the left- ghost face mere feet away. You and Ethan are now quick to your feet, him still slowly moving behind you as you start down the hallway, getting closer and closer to a room that hopefully has a lock.

You usher him inside first, slamming the door just as the ghost face spots you, locking it hurriedly, moving the filing cabinet closest to block it.

You look at you me surroundings, assessing the windows, a way out. Then you remember Ethan.

He’s sat slumped against the front of the desk, palm pressed to his wound, grimacing. You fall to your knees, fitting yourself between his, carefully moving his hand away. He flinches when your fingers dance along the wound, unable to tell how deep it is, you grip the tear already made by the knife, pulling with all your strength to rip the shirt off him.

He stays silent, watching as you use the fabric to wrap across his chest and shoulder, hoping it can suffice enough for you to get out of the window and to your apartment.

“We need to leave now.”

‧ ⨯ . ⁺ +. ✦ ⸝⸝ ✧ 𓂂 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🪩 ﹅ ੭

It had taken you longer than expected to reach your apartment m, several weird stares and concerned police officers later, you’re now sat with Ethan on your couch as you dress his wound. Finishing off you lean away with a sigh, tossing your first aid kit onto the coffee table, cradling your head in your palms.

“It hurts doesn’t it?” You mutter, looking at him through the cracks in your fingers, frowning when he quietly nods. His knee knocks against yours, and his fingers wrap around your wrists, tugging your hands away from your face gently.

“Are you okay?” He asks, voice quiet and raspy, wavering a little. Your chest stutters, stomach doing that stupid thing, finger tips twitching in his palms. His hair has dried, but it sticks to his face because of sweat, sweat that makes his face glow, lips parted and swollen from biting them. His eyes are wide, a little red from irritation, searching your face, dropping to your mouth, then looking away when he realizes you’re staring back.

It’s slow, silent, as your faces inch closer. You can feel his warm breath on your upper lip, the stubble on his jaw when your fingers slip up his face into his hair, the heat from his hands that are now on your hips like an open flame, searing the feeling of his skin on yours into your body like muscle memory.

Then you’re kissing, lips moving in sync, tongues brushing. It’s messy and inexperience, your teeth even clashing, breathing becoming hurried. He tastes like watermelon chewing gum, and also blood, the coppery taste bitter but no unwelcome at all.

You crawl onto his lap, straddling his thighs, sighing into his mouth as his hands travel up your spine, tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck. He tugs very slightly, just enough for you to feel it, making your core ache. You start grinding down against his bulge subconsciously, desperate for friction between your legs, your mouth falling open against his when you get it.

“Oh fuck ethan” you whine, brows drawing together as you press down harder, he presses his forehead to your temple. Panting out against your cheek, his hand creeps around your body, down your stomach and to the button of your jeans.

When his fingers slip into your panties, very quickly finding your clit, your eyes roll to the back of your head. His fingers make circles on the bud, whispering into your ear as he plays with your pussy “Does it feel good?” he asks, and when you can’t seem to respond he worried he’s doing it wrong “Please I want to make you feel good baby” he mutters, switching techniques, flicking your clit side to side.

You squirm, hands digging into the skin of his hips as you pull away to look him in the eyes “I’m gonna cum” you whine, and your jaw goes slack when his fingers suddenly plunge into your heat, stretching you out deliciously.

“You’re so tight, and fucking wet” he coos, fingers thrusting in and out of you quickly, while his thumb abuses your clit. You rock into his touch, open mouth panting against his jaw, eyes rolling back as your orgasm creeps up “You look so pretty, so so pretty cumming on my fingers, Jesus fuck” mumbling the words into your hair has your thighs shaking, cumming dramatically, cursing under your breath. You clench around his fingers, grinding into his touch, wetness ruining your underwear, even soaking through the crotch of your jeans onto his.

“Can you give me another one? Wanna feel you on my cock please?” He whines, slipping his hand out of your pants, bucking his hips up into your core, stiff cock pressing to your core through the layers.

“I don’t know Ethan” you pout, nose knocking against his, a blush covering your cheeks when he pecks your lips. When you look at him, face flushed and sweaty, eyes begging silently, you feel heat between your legs once again, sighing in defeat “Has to be fast, need to get back to sams” you mumble into his mouth, and he nods in agreement.

He’s quickly, almost ripping your pants off, panties as well. When his cock is free, you think you’re actually salivating. He’s big, as to be expected, long and girthy, tip slapping against his belly button; angry and red, leaking with pearly beads of precum. A vein runs up the underside, prominent. You’re staring at his cock, like you’re ready to eat him alive.

“Is something wrong?” He interrupts your gaze.

Your quick to cradle his face in your palms, shaking your head quickly, pressing your mouth against his. You hover above his tip, grabbing him by the base, letting the head gently protrude at your entrance, shuddering at the stretch that already begins to burn as you slowly sink down. He moans into your mouth, and you accidentally bite down on his lip too hard, breaking the soft skin. Once he’s fully inside you find it hard to breathe, completely stuffed full of cock. Full of Ethan’s cock, feeling it twitch and pulsate inside of you, clearly begging you to move.

“So fucking tight” he practically growls, shoulders shuddering when you rise up again, ass slapping against his thighs when you fall back down. He wraps a stepping arm around your waist, carefully avoiding your wound, then begins fucking up into you a a gentle pace.

“Feels so good, love it so fucking much” he whines, eyes wide open as he looks between your bodies, speeding up with no warning “never want to leave, live in this pussy” his babbling has your heart fluttering, a drunk smile taking over your face as you moan out, nodding at his every praise.

He reaches so deep, deeper than any guy before, you’re almost sure he’s in your cervix, literally rearranging your guts. You chuckle at that, recalling threats from six months ago over the phone. When you laugh slightly, you clench around him, and that has him moaning out, head falling against the back of the couch.

The noises he makes are pretty, whiney and shameless, a contrast to the dirty words he’s letting out; and to how he looks, tall and muscular, drilling into you at an inhumane pace.

“I’m gonna cum again baby” you let out, slumping into his chest, spent, letting him fuck into you as he pleases. Your thighs are burning, sweaty everywhere, eyes barely open. The cord in your stomach is winding so tight your cunt aches, seeping wetness around the base of his cock, making obscene wet noises every time the skin of his thighs meets your ass.

He hums “yeah, yeah I’m close” he mumbles into the top of your head, fingers digging into the skin of yours hips so hard you know it’ll bruise “want you to cum on me, but- but can I cum inside?” he babbles, whiney, bordering on begging.

You nods frantically into his chest, heaving out a breathy string of ‘yesyesyesyes’ until you’re cumming around him, your body stilling, clenching around him as he cums as well. It’s the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced, white hot burning through your veins, your eyes rolling so far back you can see your skull, nails digging into his biceps so harshly you make him bleed. The way he pulses, twitching, loading you completely full of himself. It almost feels like it’ll never stop, creaming out around the base of his cock, covering your raw puffy lips in a mix of his seed and your wetness.

As if on cue, pounding comes from your door, making the both of you jump, heads whipping to it in panic “We’ve got serial killers to kill!” Tara’s voice shouts, and the both of you face each other in surprise, bursting out into a fit of laughter.

rebloggers are the best <3

[vxxxxed]

Butcher!simon with no self awareness sometimes. Goes without a shower for like 3 days cuz "he'll get dirty tomorrow anyways might as well skip it once-" but he skips it more than once and it just kinda becomes a routine. Maybe somehow gets a date, maybe with a regular in his shop. Being just used to not showering every day he does not pamper himself before the date cuz "who the fuck cares, she gets this or nothing". Maybe only just wearing clean clothes, but the smell of sweat and flesh stays on him yk? AAA

Okay i rambled a bit sorry i need this man smelling like A MAN and in my bed ok.

FIRST ANON WAHOO

I accidentally turned this into uncanny valley possibly a vita carnis mimic gross Simon but I hope you like my shitty additions to your thoughts 😭 this feels really OOC for my own personal interpretation of b!s but WE BALL

Butcher!Simon who honestly just the audacity of this man. Bro finds someone who wants his offputting ass and still doesn't have a wash. Doesn't even bother to whip out the soap, if you will.

But anyway he still shows up to your date, and at least he bothered to put on jeans are those washed out bloodstains? and an admittedly nice black jacket to go with his t-shirt. You can overlook the smell of sweat and iron and cigarette smoke and man, - and what might be a hint of more recognisable blood under whatever cheap ass supermarket cologne he's got on - since at least he's hot and you didn't actually think he'd agree to go out with you in the first place.

The only problem with this whole arrangement is that he just sort of... Sits there and stares at you the whole time. Like, not in a 'oh he's listening to your story and really paying attention, that's cute!' way, but in a 'is he actually breathing this has been going on for five minutes and I don't think he's blinked or moved his eyes at all' way.

Oh well! You're sure you'll have his eyes rolling back in no time once you get him back to your place.

[killakalx]

Kali, I beg you to stop. I saw your post about scent kink with Jason, I have too many thoughts now. So I'm back, again. With another thought. Jason coming back from patrol, he smells like gunpowder or blood or sweat. Or all of it, idk however men smell. You get

jason todd x reader who needs to be under his skin. my favorite trope

yeah nasty post patrol sex with jason always lingers in the back of my mind. always. he gets home and he has to pry you off of him cuz you’re tryna jump his bones the second he gets through the window 😭 one thing i’ve always liked about his gear are the thigh straps, framing his cock and straining against his thighs. UGH. and he’s got the nerve to laugh at you when you’re clawing his gear off, making him lose his balance and pulling his cock out before the guy even gets a say in anything. he convinces you to wait at least another few minutes bc duh he’s kinda stinky, but you just follow him into the bathroom and fuck him in the shower yk? right before he can get in he’s propped against the sink and watching you take him all the way down your throat, so eager he’s gotta remind you to relax and breathe before you choke yourself. it honestly catches him off guard and he’s cumming down your throat in record time, adrenaline still pumping and now he’s ready for another three rounds. tsk tsk.

[midnight-black2]

UAAHHSHWHEBW FINALLY SOMEONE WRITING FOR DOM READER😭

anyway can u write anything about Kai please 🥹 (I always thought he would be a perfect sub lol)

-𝘹𝘰𝘹𝘰

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒

pairing : kai (from voyagers) x reader

synopsis : kai needs to be put in his place, and who better to do it than you?

disclaimers : sub!kai, dom!reader, degradation, handjob, masochist!kai (only a little), mean!reader, kinda fast pace (sorry)

note : i had to watch voyagers to make this, but it was so worth it because like why is kai so fine?? like he's an asshole, but a hot one. anyways, hope you like this !

kai had been acting like an ass-kissing, cock-sucking dickwad ever since richard died.

for some context, he sucked up to zach, the person you hated most out of the entire crew. he would laugh at all of zach's rather rude jokes, they would walk through the ship halls together, standing tall with unnecessary pride as if they were God or something. you weren't quite sure what was happening, but you knew it had to do with the blue.

kai was a smart, sweet boy. but that was before. he would cross his legs at the table, speak with manners, he would even service others at times, especially you. whether it was making a plate for you (he seemed to always know what you wanted to eat), or carrying heavy things for you. but that was before. all of it was before. before everyone stopped taking the blue. before richard died. before you all needed a new group leader.

it all went to shit.

every single little thing. there was no in between, you either followed all the rules, or broke all of them. you believed in balance, it was the only thing that keeps people sane, yet there was none. you had been going crazy for weeks. with all of the noise, the ferocity, the smell of sweat and sex, everything was so overbearing, and nobody did anything about it. so when kai got hit in the head as a result of a fight and there was a meeting called over it, you were fed up. blue got rid of the emotions, and now that there wasn't any blue, and the emotions were getting in the way of everything.

"i for one don't know if there is an alien," the girl spoke. you didn't know her name, all you knew was that she was constantly doing the right thing. she was a little boring, but you didn't hate her or anything. her eyes were lowered, not daring to look zach or christopher in the eye.

"who cares what you don't know," zach spoke, annoyedly. you clenched your jaw, couldn't he just let the girl speak?

"if we repair the damage we can watch the surveillance video and-" she was cut off by zach.

"shut your fat, puss-filled face," you scoffed. how low, even for him. you saw the way kai snickered, you felt like slapping the two of them then and there. you pinched kai's right thigh, giving him a look of warning. he looked over to you, he gulped, yet rolled his eyes anyway.

"i have a right to talk," she responded, finally looking zach in the eye.

"you talk enough as it is, you bloated wheezing blister," he countered, with a smirk. everyone started laughing, including kai. you felt your blood boil. she was only trying to make a point.

"zach, she can talk," christopher interfered.

"you shut up too," zach muttered. he went on, and it escalated. it almost ended in the same way the fight ended last time. it was all a blur--everyone split up. kai and half of the others followed behind zach. you had it with him. you gripped his arm harshly. you pulled him down the hall, luckily no one noticed the two of you leave.

"y/n," kai called, brows furrowed, he was a bit angry. "y/n, what are you doing?"

"shut up," you ordered, through gritted teeth. he quickly complied, his breath hitched. you went inside an empty sleeping quarter, shutting and locking the door.

"you've been such a fucking brat lately, kai,"

"y-you can't do anything about it," he replied, stuttering, voice shaky. he knew damn well you could. you had this odd sort of control over him he couldn't quite understand. with the snap of your fingers he would be on his knees, consciously or not.

"yeah? watch me," you challenged. you crossed your arms over your chest, your patience was growing thin. "strip."

"w-what?" he was shaking slightly, eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips.

"you heard me, strip." he listened. it seemed an ounce of obedience was still left in him--only for you, though. he started with his shirt, pulling it over his head. he was lean, toned. you couldn't help but stare, you would've smirked if you weren't so frustrated. he felt your eyes, they were gaping burning holes all over into his body.

he slowly unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down, leaving him in only his boxers. you walk over to him, and grip his raging hard-on.

"all you do anymore is think with your stupid cock," you spit out, looking him right in the eye. he let out a soft whimper. you swiftly backed him up against the nearest wall. you were surely manhandling him, but who was he to tell you not to? you pulled down his boxers, and they sat at his feet. he breathing picked up.

it was embarrassing, to say the least. he was naked and you were completely clothed. he felt so vulnerable, but it was even more embarrassing that he liked it. your hand wrapped around his cock, you squeezed quite harshly. you had forgotten how big he was, probably a good 8.5" when hard.

"fuck, y/n," kai groaned. did it hurt? yes. did it only enhance his pleasure? also yes.

"seriously kai? you get in a fight over a girl. you get hit in the head with a metal rod, yet you're over here whimpering like a bitch when i simply squeeze your dick? a little pathetic," you utter, a brow arched.

"please," he let out, subconsciously. he cursed himself internally, he knew you would only be harsher on him now.

"please what, kai? please fucking what? i don't feel like giving you shit. you take what i give you," you responded. you brought your fingers to his mouth, thumb prodding at his lips. "open."

he did as he was told, and allowed your fingers to explore his mouth. you pushed them as deep as they'd go before he gagged softly. he shut his eyes. as humiliated as he felt, your fingers were quite warm. you took them out, and he sort of disliked the absence of you digging around in his mouth. god, he thought he was so weird.

your hand returned to his cock, wrapping around it and pumping up and down quickly, without warning. he cried out, gripping your shoulder.

"goodness, look at you. wish someone would walk in right now. hear the way you moan and whine weakly. they'd figure out so quickly you're not quite as high and mighty as you make yourself out to be," you chuckle, looking at him writhe. although he was taller than you, it still felt as though he were underneath you.

"s-shit, y/n," he moaned, hips bucking. your free hand gripped his waist, keeping it pinned to the wall.

"stay still." you instructed, your hand on his cock speeding up a bit. kai's knees buckled, he felt his mind was mush, he was shaky and all thoughts of you consumed him.

"fuck y/n, i think im gonna cum," kai warned, opening his eyes to take a peek at you. he couldn't handle it. the way you looked so angry, so ready to snap him in half. if he kept looking at you, he would surely cum right that second.

"already? that's a little sad, don't you think?" you teased, hand on his waist making its way up his chest. you pinch his left nipple harshly, and he whimpers once again.

"oh my god," he moans. you could feel his entire body shaking and jolting with every move you made. "can i?"

"cum? i don't know. why should i even let you?" you asked, only wanting to hear him beg.

"please. fuck, please let me cum. i need to i really need to. i'm sorry! i'll-ill keep my mouth shut when you want me to," kai pleaded. you, at last, gave in.

"go ahead, cum," you said. he let go with a loud moan, anyone directly outside the door could probably hear. you moved to the side just in time so his mess wouldn't touch you.

"o-oh, fuck," he panted, sliding down the wall, sitting on the floor. you kneeled, your hand placed on his cheek.

"you learn your lesson?" you asked, smirking complacently.

"maybe." you rolled your eyes at his response, but couldn't help the smile that followed.

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐤𝐲𝐚-𝐢𝐬-𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐥

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲? 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

[ghcstao3]

(feel free to ignore!) Hi!! can we get more cat shifter!ghost headcanons? istg i can't get enough of it😭😭

i can sure try to provide more hcs

(if there are repeats… no there aren’t)

- part of the reason ghost wears a mask/sunglasses most of the time is actually to keep shade over his eyes because even in human form they constrict and dilate like a cat’s and it’d give him away as a shifter

- cat ghost does have the uncanny ability to always smell good like a lot of cats do. maybe in human form he’ll smell like gunpowder, blood, dirt, sweat, whatever—but in cat form he just… doesn’t. sure, in part it’s a cause of grooming himself frequently, but sometimes he’ll just smell like something freshly baked or a scented candle and no one knows why. ghost himself doesn’t even know why most days

- one of few things he hasn’t learned to control is his purring—he just can’t. and it’s embarrassing when he doesn’t want to purr but can’t help it whenever it involves other people, like soap. who ghost will literally just start purring around if he so much as enters the room

- sometimes, just for fun, if ever price has to reprimand a recruit, he’ll call them into his office just so that he can do the “evil villain slowly turning in chair while petting a mean looking cat” move because somehow it works like a charm with ghost as his cat

- ghost in human form is more flexible/agile than most as a cause of his shifter status. he also doesn’t need night vision goggles, just “uses” them for show

[newbornwhumperfly]

no one will feed you anymore...

oh, y’all know what time it is by now, don’t you? 😈🥺😈 i stretched the definition of this delightful prompt - @whumpmasinjuly day 12: caught - and it really stirred my creativity! so it's time for morja to sufferrrrrrrrrr...😭😭😭

(sidenote: this training scenario was heavily insp. by this incredible art by @elgrajaz cause it gives such whumperflies 😍)

title insp. by this concept art quote by jenny holzer - "if you're considered useless, no on will feed you anymore."

~

Your job today is to run. 

Until, anotèros?

There’s a blister on his ankle already. The friction of the shoe against skin, the rub-rub-rub, burn, burn, heat, sore, heat, foot falling flat against the ground, push off, spring forward, burn. 

Until you catch up.

Morja blinks wet into his eyes and it stings, blurs, his feet pound their rhythm still. Can’t wipe it away. Keep going. He knows where he’s going and he doesn’t need to see. Just run. 

Chase the buggy. The small white cart and the whine of the wheels as it speeds ahead, the anotèros driving, the anotèros with the stopwatch in his hand, the black glasses, don’t watch his face, just run.  

He has caught the buggy before. Dog with rabbit in his teeth. Grab the bar, swing himself into the backseat, stopwatch clicking stop. 

But it is so hot.

What is this track made of, anotèros? 

His trainer’s eyes had squinted, slitted sideways down at Morja, and the skin of his palms itched. 

The burn is all over. Heat. Heat in the legs, the thighs, the feet, the pulse of fire through each foot. 

Raw, sharp, prick of fire, as the blister peels. Heat. Blood. Blood in the sock. Bad. Wash later. Run. 

Keep going. 

Keep going.

The heat is inescapable. It’s the worst part, really, of anything. He’s lived in heat. Used to heat. Born in it, raised in it, put in it day after day and still, it is the most inescapable. 

Polyurethane, mostly. Does that answer your question, diathèsimòs?

Morja’s palms itched harder and he squeezed them into balls behind his back.  

Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. 

Good. Now get out there and run. 

Fire jars through his chest with each breath, breath dragging sharp across his lungs, filling up with knives, throat a razor trap, chest a dozen blade tips. Breathing out is an ache but better, better than swallowing the fire of air. 

Back straight. Drag air through the nose. Thick, rubber-scented, hot. It’s so hot in the building, foggy, every window had fog on it when he walked in today. 

Polly-your-a-thane. Rubber. That’s the smell. Mixed with latex. The stuff that sticks to skin. Poured over asphalt. Bouncy over solid. 

Knowing why your shoes stick to the track in the rain, in the heat, in the cold, doesn’t make you faster. It doesn’t help. 

Morja sees sweat gleam on his trainer’s head, wrist swiping it away, the stopwatch gleaming bright, pinpoint-sharp, and the lights are bright. Big bulbs in the ceiling that hum against his skin they’re so blue-bright-sharp. 

Keep up. 

His sides pulse. The pulse has started now and the stabbing will only get stronger. Stitch. A needle pulling air through his body on a barbed thread. Poke. Drag. Poke. Drag. 

They haven’t told you to stop.

Morja always has to remind himself his throat isn’t bleeding. It feels like it is. It isn’t. Not like his feet. Those are bleeding. 

He can’t even hear the clink of his cuffs, thick leather slick and sticking to his flesh in an itching snick-snick-snick at every jostle. The piston of his elbows at his sides is short and doesn’t yank the chains trailing behind the buggy. 

The slow whir of wheels-on-rubber is just a buzz now. Everything is a buzz, ears full of static, only the thudthudthud of blood rushing, water, past his ears, like his head is under the water, don’t think just run. 

He won’t catch up to the buggy if he doesn’t run.

(It will outrun him anyway. That’s the point. It has to. Of course it will. It’s a buggy and Morja is on foot. There is no point.)

No. He can catch the buggy. He was told to and he can. 

Keep the pace. This track doesn’t end. Run. 

Inescapable.

Run.

He is a diathèsimòs and he must keep running. 

The thud of his shoes against the track, the springing-then-solid, the reaching out with one hand, no, not close enough to reach and sweat blinds him again. Fuck. 

He should have caught them already. 

He must catch them. 

Every step burns. Every breath burns. The lights burn. The track is a circle and he rounds a corner into a corner into a corner in pursuit. 

The length of chain yanks, every step jolts his ribs against the inside of his skin, like every step jolts cuff against wrist, the chain growing tauter, the breaths shorter, harsher, dragging, razorwire, like the lungs being whipped. 

The shredded grunt of each breath can’t be coming from him, he doesn’t think, but it must be. It’s so loud in his ears, like his heartbeat, as knife of breathing stabs, stabs, stabs. 

The buggy is getting further away, inch by inch, and there is no way his lungs can bleed, like a horse. He is a diathèsimòs and his lungs don’t bleed. 

Breathing and seeing are fire. 

Hot rubber and hot copper and the itch of sweat is all he can think about. The sting of it in his open blisters. The crawl of it down the waistband of the pants, into the neck of the shirt, in his dry mouth like spit, in his dry eyes like tears. 

The track is designed to help you not slip. That’s how running tracks are made. That’s why the rubber smells so strong. 

But a stab, too-sharp, too-blinding, doubles him. He jerks against the cuffs and it’s done. The buggy keeps going and Morja doesn’t and his shoes fly out from under him and he hits the track. 

Rubber. Asphalt. Body. 

All the ragged breath is slammed from his lungs as his chest hits the ground, chin tucked against the fall, and the track burns across every inch, shoulders sharp and shocking at the jarring pull, pull, pull, dragged behind the buggy-

“Stop! Time.”

The burning stops and Morja lays there, heaving, light pulsing with every sharp heartbeat behind his eyelids, and he’s curled up on the ground, arms stretching out with their chains behind the buggy. 

Get up. 

He can’t.

Then kneel. 

Rolling, belly first, then dragging one leg, burning, stabbing, shaking, up beneath him. Another. He does kneel up and his lids, bleary, blink open as the shape of his anotèros floats from the buggy. The squeak of leather as the shape bends to crouch in front of him, a rolling smell as sharp and bright and cold as the overhead bulbs swallows him up, clean scent and sharp corners, holding up a gleaming pinpoint in Morja’s face. 

The stopwatch. 

The only cold Morja’s felt today stabs into the hollow of his stomach as numbers, bright electric lines, become clear. 

Slow. 

Fuck. 

I was slow.

“Gonna have to work on your speed, diathèsimòs. Guess you didn’t manage to catch up. You know the drill - don’t stop running until we’re caught.” 

Morja tastes blood in his mouth. Not from his lungs. Of course not. He takes his teeth out of his cheek and the smell of rubber fills his nose as he bows his head to the ground. 

Polyurethane, soft against his skin. 

“…Yes, anotèros.”

~ oooh, a little glimpse into morja's training regimen, which is very fair and achievable!! 🥺🥺🥺

taglist: @much-ado-about-whumping @haro-whumps @whump-tr0pes @whumpthisway @i-eat-worlds

@wolfeyedwitch @whumpzone @whumping-every-day @redwingedwhump @straight-to-the-pain

@stoic-whumpee @liliability @whatgoeswhumpinthenight @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumpster-draganies

@whump-me-all-night-long @suspicious-whumping-egg @scoundrelwithboba @kixngiggles @tears-and-lilies

i hope everyone has a very merry @whumpmasinjuly! 💖💖💖

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

[venomous-ragno]

PLEASE write dominant könig x sweet (but not soft bc they’ve been through shit) reader who takes care of him to the max whenever they can and maybe make it nsfw bc i keep imagining that but if you dont wanna then sfw is fine too i just can’t stop thinking about it 😭😭 THANK YOU AND I HOPE YOU HAVE A LOVELY DAY

Tags: König x gn!reader, fluff, smut

Warnings: Make up sex, Königs cums in you, slight mentions of oral

Masterlist

"I can bite you from here too."

It's not weakness, but trust, when König turns his back to you. Arms rested on his thighs as he leant forward, let his head lull and eyes close, nearly drifting off at the silence and your gentle touches. Desinfectant seeped into his wound but there was no reaction; too stubborn to groan or flinch at the sting, too used to it to even bother. König knew that heat in his neck whenever he was due for a scolding of yours. No matter how far away you were, that gaze pierced him like no other, made him shift ever so uncomfortably - and he knew he deserved it, listened but not quite as he repeated the same patterns, returned with the same mud and blood clinging to him.

He's become spoiled. Your care, your love, has made him so. König whined when hands reach out to pull you into his lap, but you huffed and shook your head. He'll heal much faster with you close to him, he claimed. You didn't buy it. You never did. He keept on pouting, calling for you in a tone so sweet, so desperate to have you close that it tested your resolve. He knew. His arms rested on your hip, cheek softly pressed to your abdomen as he 'mhm's at your barrage of words. Frustration, worry, love, it all spilled from your lips; Did he not realise how your heart dropped every time he returned even more broken and battered than before? How your heart froze whenever news of his injuried reached you?

"Don't be mad, my love." He purred to your abdomen, tilting his head to meet your gaze. The mischievous gleam in his eyes didn't go past you. "I'll make it up to you, that you missed me."

~~~~~

Teeth sink into your neck right as he thrusts into you. Wet squelches and slapping skin fills the tiny room, a stagnant smell of sweat and sex filling the air. You whine as König sucks on your skin. Decorated in reds and blues, his mouth never rests, licking, biting, sucking every inch of you he can get to.

"'M sorry", he mumbles. Hands hold your hips flush against his, sure to leave fingerprints for days after. "Wollte nicht..."

His breath ran hot against your collarbone. Apologies spilled from his lips like prayers, broken and repeated until they're naught but breathless groans. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, chest heaving and back arching at his unforgiving rythm, tearing into your core like a man starved; he shivered when your nails dragged along his back, over muscles and scars and marks you'd left on him. He rasped your name. Begged for you to take mercy on him for he's powerless when you looked at him so, unaware of what you did to him, how his restraint burst at the seams with every thrust. You pulled him down for a kiss. König moaned into your mouth and you bit his lip as a thumb circled your most sensitive spot; he licked his bloody lip and his hips stuttered.

He'd always been weak to you marking him.

"Please", eyes locked on yours, you knew that desperation in his voice. His rythm grew sloppier with each thrust bringing him close to coming undone. "Bitte... Ich kann nicht mehr... Please, my love-"

The rush of power ran through you like shivers; KorTac's star soldier begged you with teary eyes, clenched sheets until his knuckles coloured white just to not give in before you told him he could. You would've loved to let him squirm a bit more, but as he bottomed out with a shaky breath you knew you couldn't last any longer.

"You still mad at me?"

König nuzzled into your nape, feathering soft kisses along your freshly bruised skin. Truthfully, you weren't - but he'd still left you worried and confused.

"Just because it was good doesn't mean I forgive you."

The bed shifted as he slowly rose. For a second you thought you'd gone overboard on the teasing, but as his stubble tickled across your skin, ever lower, you realised it may be him teasing you instead.

"Oh, don't worry. I can be quite convincing."

[bwabys-scenarios]

HIII, could you do uvogin with icks and headcannons? please🤭

omg I need to write for Uvo more 😩😩

Uvogin’s Icks

-he’s rough around the edges and can say the dirtiest things out in public. he’ll embarrass the shit out of you just by plainly talking about how he had you bent over the kitchen counter a few hours ago drilling into your pussy

-this guy stinks sometimes 😭 he’s got a very strong smell, like musk and sweat. It’s not that he doesn’t bathe, he does! he’s just naturally a bit stinky!

-forgets important dates like your anniversary or holidays. it’s not malicious, he does care, but he often has many things on his mind

-personal space? what’s that? he’s not afraid to be ALL up in your business 24/7.

-he’ll slip his hands into your panties or up your shirt ANYWHERE. he has no problem with touching you in public

What icks him out:

-people that are too shy. don’t get me wrong, he finds your shyness cute, but he’ll get bored if someone is WAY too shy to do anything fun with him.

-overly confident people piss him off to no end. even if he himself is overconfident sometimes

-picky eaters! it’s not a huge issue but he thinks picky eaters are weak. wouldn’t NOT date a picky eater, but it’s something that can be a turn off

-he likes a challenge, but if you’re too rude/snarky it gives him the ick. he does want you to love him after all, so be sweet on him and he’ll be sweet on you!

random headcanons!!

-loves for you to sit on his face

-could listen to you talk for hours

-uses all of your soap and toothpaste without shame. he enjoys smelling like you

-if you’re cold he’ll take off whatever too he’d been wearing and drop it over you like a blanket. hopefully it’s clean and not covered in blood/sweat

-he’s so gentle with you during sex, mostly because he HAS to be. if he were to fully let loose you’d be seriously injured or killed

-he’s actually one of the only Phantom Troupe members that wants to be a dad someday!

[cumtastiics]

Hii writer!!! I really love your blog, I hope you take care of yourself and stay hydrated! I haven’t been really feeling well these days and I wanted to ask for headcanons on how the yans would react if y/n was sick(as in coughing and sneezing your lungs out), depressed, and really anxious. Hehe i hope you don’t mind! I hope the ask doesn’t cross any hard boundaries and if it does I apologize! Please stay safe!!

-🍑 anon

yans when reader is sick

a/n: this is so sweet omh 😭😭💕💕 I hope you feel better soon!! being sick sucks sm

feel free to request if you want this w more ocs!

tw: reader is sick, yandere, manipulation

YAN!DOCTOR

terrified is a good word to describe him.

how could he let you get sick? you were constantly under his care, and that was not an exaggeration.

even though he doesn't want you to die, he takes this as a chance to be more clingy with you, knowing you can barely refuse him.

knows you need rest, so sits next to you, waiting for you to fall asleep even if he knows he won't leave.

spoon feeds you everything, not wanting you to move a limb.

YAN!ELF PRINCE

disgustingly excited.

sure, he doesn't want you to die or anything, but he was so happy. you wouldn't fight or argue with him now, your body aching too much to bother.

takes the chance to sleep by you, even if he gets sick, it's the only time he can sleep with you on the same bed without you trying to bite him!

lets the maids feed you, but gets jealous when he sees them feeding you instead of him feeding you.

think you didn't get any free time with him before? it's worse now.

YAN!VAMPIRE LORD

doesn't change much.

let's say after he turned you into a vampire, he had to go off somewhere for about a week or two, leaving you behind. unfortunately for you, he doesn't allow you to have anyone else's blood.

when he comes back, he sees you laying on your bed, desperate for some nourishment. you were turning more pale, and it was understandable - you were a new vampire and had gone without blood for a while. the smell of other blood was driving you crazy, and you nearly attacked him when you smelled his blood.

decides to take you with him whenever he has to go on some sort of trip.

finds you more vulnerable during this time, with your instincts taking over. tries so hard to make sure he doesn't abuse how vulnerable you are, even if it would turn him on.

YAN!INQUISITOR

he's confused.

he's never lived with someone, and here you are, coming down with a horrible fever. he's never gotten this sick before, making him unsure what to do. he decides to ignore it at first, assuming you'll get better over time, but tries to do something when you start crying out for him.

he felt somewhat bad, but tries to pin it on you being a witch. you deserved it. still, he'll stay on a chair next to the bed, watching over you as you try to sleep, your body shivering.

feels a bit bad that you feel like this, so tries to get good medicine for you. being an inquisitor doesn't come with cheap payment.

only time he'll "voluntarily" (he wants to spend all of his time with you, but doesn't admit it) spend time with you so you don't die or something.

YAN!NICE CEO

feels horrible.

he already didn't pay much attention to you when you obviously deserved it, and now you're sick because of it! he realizes you're sick when you miss a week of work, deciding to go to your home with some fresh soup.

makes you stay in bed as he changes the cloth you put on your forehead, making sure you get the best treatment possible. the hardest worker at his company deserves the best they can get, right?

feels so bad seeing as you lay on your bed, sweat dripping off your forehead. you don't deserve it!

a bit glad he gets to be the one with you while you're in this state, able to feed you food.

YAN!MEAN CEO

would it be inappropriate if he said he was glad?

just like yan! nice ceo, he realizes you're sick when you miss a week of work. but unlike yan!nice ceo, he doesn't get you soup or anything, just some gross tasting medicine for you as he barges in your home.

wants to torment you a bit to do your paperwork while you're sick after you tried to resign, threatening you with stuff he knows he won't actually do, but still says anyways.

glad you aren't as scared now when you're next to him, but still annoyed you try to argue with him over the paperwork.

feeds you random things you have in your fridge, whether it be fried chicken or porridge.

YAN!IDOL

almost gets upset at you for being sick.

what do you mean his bodyguard got sick? who's supposed to protect him now? he cancels the upcoming show he has to nurse you back to good health, ignoring every upset comment going towards his way.

barges into the hotel room you were staying at this trip, a bag of porridge in his hand, telling you to eat it so you get better soon. he can't have his favorite person sick!

almost cries when he sees you sick, remembering how he was almost annoyed before. you stare at him like he's stupid.

he willingly cancels everything for you, even if you scold him it's not worth it.

YAN!MAGICIAN

probably the most normal one.

a bit upset that you got sick, cancels his shows just like yan!idol to make sure you get back in proper health. makes sure you feel better before taking you with him to any of his shows.

makes sure you rests as much as you can, so you feel better sooner. brings multiple medicine choices for you, just incase you don't like the flavor or texture of one.

not glad you're sick, but glad he's able to take care of you, seeing it as a way you two are getting closer.

a bit of a mess on trying to treat you, but hides it pretty well.

YAN!CHILDHOOD BFF

somewhat excited.

he's glad he has a reason to spend time with you after school (not really.. your parents can take care of you) but now he doesn't have you at school! who cares if he's popular? he doesn't have you with him.

makes sure to take care of you properly. he needs you to come back to school with him! this is going to be the only time you let me near you.

glad you aren't trying to shoo him away, that you're just mumbling in response.

he's more needy though, desperate for your attention.