#implied kinks

[clancycatears]

MDNI (18+) ; okay i’ve seen WAY TOO MUCH of ghost with a shy!partner or introverted!parter. like what about an extroverted!partner?

poor simon himself is the introvert instead, though rather than being shy, he’s just quiet and intimidating enough for people to avoid him. because yeah, the dude’s tall, bulky, wears a mask 24/7, and when you can only see his eyes that look at you like you just killed his mother? scary.

but then you came along. a confident, pretty little bird that could see through his façade. your quips and flirty comments made the heat rise underneath his mask, and you only continued when you could spot a visible blush beneath his eyes.

a little back and forth texting, a few dates out to grab a drink, and poor simon realized he was shy and nervous around you. a hardened fucking sas lieutenant was head over heels for a bird who could read him like a book.

when you made it official, everyone was gobsmacked. baffled, even, that the ghost—simon fucking riley—got himself a pretty little thing that was his total opposite. well, opposites do attract, don’t they?

he wouldn’t leave the house to go to the pub with this crew without you. he brings you grocery shopping with him because he insists that “y’know how t’ stock us up better, love,” while holding your hand and pushing the trolley when you need him to. he’s still silent, though not as often, but he likes it better when you speak your mind for him—answer for him when he’s asked a question.

regardless of his nature, he’s very protective of you. consider him your own scary dog privilege. perhaps that’s why all of the catcalling came to a halt, now that simon accompanied you everywhere you went—like an attached puppy. every time an annoying man was scared away, simon earned a little kiss on his clothed nose that made his lips split into a dopey smile.

oh, but don’t even get me started on the bedroom situation…..

ghost masterlist

[dottormpreg]

When your resolution for 2025 was to make the gym your new home, but after partying a little bit too hard on New Year's eve, the only type of workout suitable for your body are now prenatal classes and your buddies don't seem too supportive of your new condition despite one of them could even be the father of your baby for what you know.

[hiraeth-daydreams]

Not to be a lost, forsaken fallen angel on main but what if I swore my eternal devotion to you in exchange for the privilege of sitting at your feet and resting my cheek on your leg, staring up at a being so majestic, so otherwordly and glorious and powerful, with eyes that radiate divinity of such magnitude it ignites my skin afire and make my heart bleed with religious ecstasy.

Haha, I'm kidding, of course! Of course I'm kidding. I'm kidding. I'm kidding. I'm ki

[weiner-does-preg]

AUgh sorry it’s so sketchy

[starsofang]

“No.”

“Oh, c’mon, Johnny. Please? Halloween only comes once a year.”

Johnny eyed you suspiciously, taking in the request you’d laid out on him, which in retrospect, was something he wouldn’t normally deny—he was a kinky guy. But wearing a mask to fuck you, when you could just look at him the whole time instead? Nuh-uh.

“Is this one of yer book things?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

You frowned at him, darting your eyes away. “No.”

“It totally is.”

“Okay, yes, it is, but I think it’d be hot! You don’t?” you tried once more, pleading.

Johnny snorted, shaking his head. “What’s not to enjoy about my face?”

“Your face is wonderful, Johnny.”

“…But?”

“You in a mask is sexy.”

Johnny groaned, throwing his head back and blinking up at the ceiling.

Really, the idea was growing on him. A mask, yeah, he could do that for you—might even find it hotter than he thought—but the deep rooted thought of a familiar mask popped up in the midst of it, tainting his mind.

He rolled his head lazily to look at you, narrowing in on the pout on your lips. It was always hard for him to deny you, especially anything sex-related you wanted to try. Hell, he was practically like a dog being thrown a bone at the opportunity.

“I’ve got a better idea,” he murmured, a sadistic grin curling on his face.

It was your turn to stare suspiciously, slowly deflating from your previous excitement and dying down to a curious hesitation. “That’s never good,” you muttered.

“Mm. I think ye might like it,” he replied cheekily, taking a step closer to you. His arm slipped easily around your waist to rest on your back, tugging you into his warmth. “Ye remember Ghost, don’t ye?”

“Ghost?” you breathed, shivering when you felt his lips tickle your ear and drift down to your neck. He hummed against your skin.

He wasn’t serious, right?

He was incredibly serious, unfortunately.

“Happy Halloween, love.”

You could barely peel your eyes open to look at Ghost, only humming a noise of acknowledgment as he got up to leave, Johnny walking him out.

As for you, you were suffering the severe consequences of their bound agreement, body limp and sedated in the comfort of your blankets that Johnny gifted you to boost the ‘Halloween spirit.’

Johnny gave you what you asked for with little struggle, granting you the sweet taste of fucking with a mask on. Ghost was there for encouragement, pulling out his old, trusty mask and sliding it on just for you.

Fucking into you until you were a weeping, blabbering mess to a masked Johnny wasn’t what you pictured when you initially asked the Scot about your fantasy, but all hesitation was quickly snipped from your mind the moment you got a sample of both of them, their eyes peering down at you like you were prey from the narrow slits of the holes cut out for their vision leaving you begging for more.

“Maybe for Christmas, we could be Santa and ye could be our li’l elf,” Johnny teased when he returned, sliding into bed. “‘Tis the gift of givin’ soon, aye?”

He only snickered loudly when that earned a sharp kick from you, hunkering down into bed on Hallow’s night, murmuring about how he wasn’t kiddin’. They definitely could, if ye want.

[whenheavencalls111]

Mmmm yum! (>∀<)

Its just costume paint I swear

[anxious-chaos-art]

Kaka in this panel is everything to me. He's just standing here🧍🏾as his sister uses him as a prop to hit on the hot dwarf lady his parents hired. Iconic king

[kabr0ztrousers]

hi, big fan of your writings!! could you do a fem!reader being free-use’d and bred by anthropomorphic bug people, with noncon/dubcon, and intox/drug venom? the darker and more objectifying, the better!

More bugs? Plus egging, intox, noncon and the reader having a really, really bad time? Sounds like fun!

Kabr0z Writes Episode 45: Resistance

This episode concerns Chitinids, we've seen them before in episodes 25 and 26

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: Noncon; warcrimes; military occupation; intox; freeuse; Interspecies; group sex; oviposition; implied impending character death; parasitic pregnancy; forced breeding;

A/N: Another day, another reminder that requests are open, and that if you want to see anything, send an ask or a DM and it'll be added to the list of stories to tell!

Long-time readers will notice a bit of a retcon with a returning species of alien bugs, but hell to it! Nobody's reading these for the rich, cohesive world

#########################################

The cities were clean. The streets quiet. Everything eerily safe and sterile. The Chitinid gunships patrolling sky saw to that. They were silent, hanging ominously in the air in exactly the way bricks don't.

You hurried from your office, aiming to get to the old library before one of them noticed something awry. There's always people on the streets, going to and fro, everybody had jobs although nobody really did anything at them. The work was just sitting in meetings and firing off salvos of emails that would be diligently opened and summarily ignored. Chitinid tech had ended world hunger, cured almost all disease, even fixed the climate. Only problem is, it came at the cost of billions of human lives.

They didn't try to hide the farms, where people were processed and converted to semi-conscious milk producers, or the trade in human pets where some of the wealthiest of your insectile overlords would own a human or four, implanting them with cruel machinery to force their subservience. They also didn't hide the 60-minute war, the last stand of the old world. London, New York, Washington, LA, every city with more than a million people was emptied within ten minutes of formal first contact. Humanity launched every warhead that seventy years of paranoia and hate had stockpiled. Those suspension fields caught every one, redirecting them to deep space. The last of mankind capitulated.

Except you, and a dozen or so others you knew of. Rebels in the dark. Your cell was in terse contact with another, who told you they knew of at least one other, and so the chain went on. It's safer if no one link in the chain know too much about any of the others, but some interesting word has come down the grapevine. In your bag was a thermos filled with nitroglycerin, one of your friends was working on a detonator, a set of elevator codes had came over the radio.

The plan was simple, get to the parts together, get to the roof of a building, and drop the package onto a gunship. It wouldn't win the war, it wouldn't even reallt slow them down, but it would send a message. They hadn't won yet, far from it.

The cell met in a cellar under the library. The building had been a pub decades ago, and the old cellar still existed under the stone floor, the hatch hidden under a rug behind the reception desk. Nobody said much, the group was too close knit to need signs and countersigns. The device came together gradually, a cacophony of held breath as the mercury fulminate charge was lowered into the flask, and you were set.

No time to lose. The plan was your baby, and you weren't going to leave it to chance. The codes you had were for an office building, likely to be empty this late at night. You dodged the pools of light coming from the streetlamps. The foyer was unlocked, as promised, and the lift code worked. Clutching your flask to your chest, you ascended the building. It used to be some bank or other, now it's the same office as everywhere else, but the building was still tall.

The penthouse office. You moved carefully, an overeager step would echo off the polished marble tile. The huge desk stood unoccupied, the roof access behind it. You made for the rail overlooking the west corner of the building, and there it was. A black shape on the dim streets below. The gunship stopped at the intersection and scanned its surroundings. You dropped the bomb.

An azure light caught it in midair, projected from the gunship. You ran. A confinement field shone down over you, inches from the door back into the office. Dust whipped around you. The world flipped.

You're in a cell now. Three Chitinids stood watching you. They spoke amongst themselves, or maybe they were speaking to you? You never learned the chittering language they used, and they don't normally speak English. You tried to move in the azure light, the tingling numbness stopped that. One of the bugs held a screen to your face. The library. Your stomach knotted up as you realised, this is a live feed.

Gunfire rained on the old building, within seconds it was rubble, a minute reduced it to a hole. You screamed, rage and hate filling your voice. The bugs laughed, keeping up the bombardment.

One approached you, pushing its sharp mandibles into your face. Strong hands gripped your clothing, tearing it off. You floated, naked and immobile as the three bugs paced around you, pinching and prodding, laughing at your yelps and threats. One grabbed your ass, pulling you weightlessly towards it in the field. A sharp barb jutted out from its mouthparts, and sank into your shoulder.

Your yells turned to moans. It had drugged you with something. Your body got hotter. You tried to turn and grapple it, but all the strength in the world wouldn't move you. One in front stepped up to you, both forelimbs on your tits as one of the lower arms grabbed your cunt, sinking angled fingers into you.

Your body spasmed, you swore as you felt yourself clench around him. The one behind you laughed and bit you again, giving you another dose of the venom.

You came around the fingers stuck in you, cursing and crying as you did. It released your tits and knelt down in front of you, using its forelimb to tease your clit as it pumped its hand into you.

Tears welled in your eyes as you felt another orgasm come on, you tried to suppress it. The one forcing its hands into your cunt bit you. Its mouth barb lanced into the flesh above your womb, instantly driving you over the edge again. You felt yourself spasm and squirt uncontrollably as the roaches laughed at you again. They tipped you over, flipping you end over end in the light, bringing you to rest face-up, waist high to them.

They loomed over you. Sizing you up as you quivered and squirmed, your breath catching, fluid still dripping in thick droplets from your cunt. Chitinous plates parted on the one stood near your face. A long, ribbed appendage slid out of the gap, dripping dark fluid of its own onto your face. You felt your legs part and what you imagined would be a similar thing brush the lips of your swollen cunt. A chittered word, and both thrust into you at once.

The slime was thick, and bitter. It hurt your throat to swallow it, but it filled you with heat, stronger than the venom from their mouths. The one in your pussy was having a similar effect, making your walls shudder and clench against it, the ribs of its exoskeletal cock stimulating you as he slid them in and out of you. Tears were streaming down your face now, moans turning to screams, and back to moans as the cocktail of aphrodisiac mingled in you, driving you beyond your breaking point.

All you could feel was the cocks pounding your body, again and again making you cum all over them.

All you could see was the screen, the smoking hole that was the library burned into your mind's eye.

You felt the one in your throat cum. It forced itself further in, spraying a thick slime down your neck. You gagged, the instinct to swallow the only thing stopping you drowning on the thick cock-slime being pumped into your belly.

It hurt. The slow-moving load coating your insides. Every beat of your heart making your head spin. You couldn't even feel the one in your cunt unloading into your clenching womb. The potent drugs in their sexual fluids keeping you dazed and in a constant orgasm.

You didn't notice the third had a different appendage. Wider, with a bulbous tip. You didn't sense it slide into you, pumping eggs into your cunt where they lodged into your womb, fertilising from the ocean of bug spunk in your body. You could half-see it as it lay its ovipositor on your lips, stopping your breathing as it forced its way into your throat. More eggs, pushing down into your stomach, fertilising, embedding.

You wouldn't be able to know what would happen to you when the eggs hatch.

You couldn't know the hosts of Chitinid young rarely survive to tell of what happens next.

You'll find out

######################################

Dark enough for you?

[sleepytopia]

Don’t Look at My Tail Like That. (one-shot)

Hitoshi Shinso x reader Summary: A training accident leaves you with cat ears, a twitchy tail, and a brand new level of embarrassment. Unfortunately for you, Hitoshi Shinsō thinks it’s adorable. And unfortunately for him, your tail really likes his voice.

You weren’t even the target.

Just walking to the training grounds when someone’s wild quirk ricocheted and hit you straight in the back. One flash of light later, and suddenly-

Fur. Ears. Tail. And unholy levels of sensitivity.

The ears twitch on their own. The tail has a mind of its own. And to make it worse?

The first person you see is Shinso. Standing there. Blinking. And then:

“…Meow?”

You glare. “Say that again and I swear to-”

Your tail flicks. He stares at it.

“I wasn’t ready for how cute this is,” he mumbles, smirking slightly.

You’re about to threaten him again, but his voice drops a little lower, more casual, and suddenly your tail swishes.

Hard.

You freeze. “Don’t talk like that.”

“Like what?” he says, all fake innocence. “Like this?”

Your ears twitch wildly. Your tail flicks again, then curls down like it’s shy.

Shinso blinks. Then slowly, grins. “Oh. You’re voice sensitive now.”

You want to die.

The next hour is pure torment.

Every time he talks, every time your tail reacts. Flicking, curling, twitching like it has a crush. He even purrs under his breath to tease you. And the worst part?

You do want to curl into him and nap. His voice is too good. You’re doomed.

At one point, he gently tugs your tail to “see what happens” and you nearly collapse.

By the time the quirk wears off later that night, your hair’s a mess, your pride’s in the dirt, and Shinso is still smirking.

“I kinda miss the ears,” he says as you glare at him.

You start walking away. He jogs to catch up.

“Do you purr when kissed, too?”

“Shinso.”

“Kidding.”

“…Mostly.”

© sleepytopia do not copy, translate, or plagiarize any of my works

[existenceisthis]

day thirty something thinking about the fact that apparently lou negotiated to take the first kissing scene from full on make out to something gentle since it's more in character for how he plays tommy

because lou finds tommy gentle and considerate because tommy never got to have that applied to himself 

because lou wants tommy to adore buck how buck deserves to be adored and not have lust steer the direction bucktommy are going together

because even lou knows tommy was seeking for permanence and while he was super into buck he was never going to push buck into anything he wasn't ready for

because tommy is the reliable and steady one, the one who knows you can't built anything long lasting on a whim or uncertainty or dishonesty

and when buck is honest about not knowing what he wants but wanting whatever it is with tommy, tommy says yes

because buck is gentle with him back, buck is considerate and seeking for permanence, too

just, you know, thinking about them

[dottormpreg]

The Mpreg version of Russian Roulette is quite simple: all the participants sit around a bottle and then spin it. Whover gets chosen must take a sip of the powerful fertility drug inside of it, often resulting in a sudden gestation. Last time Andrea proposed his fellow buddies to play the game, he ended up regretting it for the follow nine months, but now he’s quite confident: not only he obviously cannot get more pregnant than this, but he secretely manomitted the bottle. Time for the boys to discover the joys of motherhood.

[okyum]

bucktommy get back together and break out the pet names for the first time on screen. tommy with the fond, exasperated, "honey" and buck bluescreens so hard hen needs to check for a pulse

[dottormpreg]

Was that kick a 'yes' or a 'skip'? Guess we'll have to wait another couple of months to know. (Happy Sanremo week everyone! 🎶​💐 What is your favourite song? Let me know in the comments​)