#is that… is that the opposite of ‘the killer?’ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sceletaflores · 1 day

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younger!pervy!patrick stealing your underwear 18+

i blame @poppy-metal for my nasty patrick zweig thoughts, this is for you bae. also extremely extremely inspired by icon @murdrdocs, your fics changed lives thank you for your service.

it's pure fucking luck when it happens.

art wouldn't stop complaining about having to take his dirty laundry to the communal room on his dorm floor that housed all the washers and dryers. patrick doesn't know why the fuck he offered to take it up for him in the first place, to shut art up? to make him happy?

who gives a shit anyways cause while he's taking arts stupidly full hamper to the laundry room and following the half-assed directions given to him, he bumps right into someone as soon as he steps foot through the already open door. when he cranes his head around the edge of art's hamper he nearly jumps with fucking joy at what, or more-so who, greets him.

he knew who you were already. art wouldn't stop blowing up his phone with texts about "the hot new chick with an out of this world backhand and a killer fucking rack!". so as soon as he got off the bus in cali and stepped foot in art's cushy dorm room he obviously demanded he take him to one of your matches, and holy fucking shit.

you absolutely obliterate the poor girl on the opposite side of the net. running her up and down the court like a chicken with its head cut off while you stay calm and collected.

he could come just watching your perfect form as you hammer another excellent serve at your opponent, but something has to be said for the fucking outfit you're wearing. the tight tank of your dress does show off your, now proven, killer fucking rack but goddamn that skirt should be illegal. even the flowy pleated fabric can't hide the thick curve of your ass underneath, bouncing as you take off to chase after the ball.

he's white knuckling the edges of his seat the entire match, using every ounce of willpower in his body to not pop a boner in the middle of the fucking stands and even more willpower to not look over at the smug fucking grin plastered on art's face as he watches him. safe to say, you've been on his mind ever since.

now, you stand in front of him holding your own hamper with an apologetic smile on your face.

"shit, i'm so sorry. i didn't even see you." you say, way too chipper for 9 a.m on a sunday.

patrick is the epitome of a cocky, arrogant asshole. he has girls in nearly every state practically begging to choke on his dick without him so much as raising a finger in their direction. he's beyond smooth. he has every sleazy line known to man on the tip of his tongue at all times, yet when he goes to speak he can't manage anything besides a weak mutter of, "s'alright." he mentally punches himself in the balls for letting your bambi eyes and dick sucking lips get the better of him.

you give him a nod and one last friendly smile before stepping around him and making your way down the hallway. patrick watches in damn near agony as you go, ponytail swinging behind you in time with the sway of your hips.

patrick lets out an all suffering groan, dropping his head to his chest in defeat. "fucking dumbass.' he admonishes himself quietly, letting himself wallow in misery before making to take a step forward when suddenly he spots something out of the corner of his eye.

it takes him a few seconds to register just what he's staring at, but when it clicks he nearly has a fucking heart attack. there on the floor lays a pair of lacy white panties, your lacy white panties. it takes him all of a millisecond to drop art's hamper on the floor carelessly and practically dive to snatch them up. as soon as his fingers touch the fabric he can feel himself chubbing up in his sweats. he runs his fingertips over the hem, feeling the familiar rough texture that was snug against your body so recently makes sparks go off near the base of his spine.

when patrick hears lively conversation and footsteps heading his way he shoves the panties in his pocket and snatches art's hamper off the floor to start haphazardly shoving his clothes in the washer.

when he finally re-enters art's dorm room he's met with his best friends face staring at him suspiciously. "what the fuck took you so long?" art questions, brow raised as he watches patrick stumble over to his bed and plop down a little too roughly. patrick's reply is simple.

“got lost."

it's only later, when he's back on the train heading for his latest stop and digging into his pocket in search of his lighter that he feels it. the lacy fabric of your panties still stuffed deep into his pocket. his breath hitches in his throat and before he knows what he's doing he's up like a shot and speed walking to the back of the cart.

he's in the bathroom a mere five seconds before he's ripping his fly down and furiously stroking his hard as steel cock in a cramped train bathroom he can barely stand up fully in. it takes an embarrassingly short amount of time before he's busting in the fucking sink with your dainty white panties balled up in his fist and held against his nose as he inhales so heavily he might fucking pass out.

patrick has already found, and requested you, on facebook by the time he makes it back to his seat.

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taglist!

@yuenity @callsign-artemis @ebodebo (who each put up with me ranting about this so wonderfully love you guys mwah)

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moonstruckme · 24 hours

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who knew camp counsellor james would have such a hold on me-

i feel like one one of the last days of the camp before they have to go back to experiencing the joys of the real world james would sneak the reader out past curfew to indulge in a late night campfire session or smth yk? it would just be really cute-

Thanks for requesting lovely!

camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

It took you a while to clear the fog of sleep from your head, and you could really argue that you didn’t fully wake up until after you’d put your shoes on and slipped out of your cabin to let James take you into the woods. Your decision making abilities were definitely not fully functioning.

Not because you wouldn’t have gone if they were, but because you probably would have put on real shorts.

You feel strangely underdressed in your pajamas while James leads the way in his everyday clothes. Whatever this is—you haven’t had the wherewithal to ask many questions—it was clearly pre-planned on his end, and you hadn’t been clued in until he’d tapped on the window by your bunk bed and asked you to come outside.

“Careful of that hole there,” he warns you, voice chipper and oddly loud in the quiet of early morning, though you think he’s speaking at a normal volume.

You step over the hole he’d gestured to, every step helping you to shed the lethargy you’ve carried out of your cabin with you. The world around you is lightening, your sandaled feet brushing against wet blades of grass and mist pleasantly chilling your skin. There’s an excitement coming off James that’s more contagious the more you wake up.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“The top of the hill.”

“Why?”

“God, can’t I have any secrets?” He tosses you a smile over his shoulder. “It’s a surprise.”

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see. “Is the surprise that you’re going to murder me?”

“Well, now you’ve spoiled it.”

You don’t actually think James would murder you. He may be serial-killer charming, but he’s the sort of kind that persists even when no one is looking and you truly don’t think he’s got a malicious bone in his body. There’s certainly nothing malicious about the way he looks at you now, turning to watch you finish the climb as he steps into the clearing beyond the trees.

This grassy bluff (referred to lovingly by camp staff as “the hill”) overlooks the lake and the uninhabited, wooded land opposite your camp. On the horizon, you can see thin wisps of fog coating the landscape, tinged faintly yellow by the emerging light though the sun hasn’t yet broken the surface.

This isn’t somewhere the kids ever really come, but still management has built a wooden fence along the edge of the hill to make sure no one misses the drop-off or tries to jump into the lake below. James walks up to it like this is something he does every day, putting his legs between the two boards so he’s sitting on one with his arms folded across the other.

You follow suit, though you’re still not sure why you’re here. James set a hand on your back to keep you from tipping backwards while you get situated, and even through the material of your pajama top, it burns like a brand.

“So, this is the plan,” you say, hating the nervous pitch of your voice. Even though you and James see each other every day, it’s rare that you’re so thoroughly alone with him. “You’re going to dump me in the lake, and then blame it on my own recklessness for climbing over the fence.”

“Yes, you’ve figured me out,” James replies, but his heart doesn’t seem in the joke anymore. “No, I was just thinking, we never get any time away from the kids.”

“Except the bonfire.” It’s out of your mouth before you can stop it, the closest either of you have come to acknowledging what happened in the woods that night. You blame exhaustion for the slip. James’ eyes widen slightly, his lips parting like he might say something, but you go on in a hurry, “But yeah, generally we don’t.”

James quells his surprise, lips turning up again. “Right. I’ve been wanting to come up here to watch the sunrise—it’s the only place you can really see it around here—and I figured we may as well. Friday’s our last day, you know?”

The levity goes out of you in a soft breath. You turn your gaze towards the horizon. “Yeah,” you acknowledge.

The end of camp heavies your heart for loads of reasons, but lately the idea of not seeing James has been your least favorite. It’s both of your first summer here, and you’re already planning to come back next year but you don’t know if he’ll do the same.

You find yourself asking, “Are you ready to go home?”

The boards creak as James shifts his weight. “There are people I miss, so I’ll be happy to get back to them, but…no, not really. I feel like things have ended too fast. Like, I thought there’d be more time, but now all of a sudden we’re meant to start packing. Are you?”

You look at James. His hair really has gotten long. There are curls that you think if pulled would stretch nearly to the tip of his nose. You remember when he’d shown up for training, three days before the kids got here, cleaner and several shades lighter and by far the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You’d hardly been able to look at him that first day, so nervous about tripping over your tongue and embarrassing yourself before being stuck with this gorgeous boy for the entire summer, but James’ geniality proved relentless. By dinnertime he’d had you trading your fruit for his fries and the camaraderie between you after that had been easy and fun, if not always strictly friendly.

“Not really,” you agree, offering him a halfhearted smile.

James’ knee bumps yours, and all the heat in your body seems to focus on the spot. He smiles back at you. “I’m gonna miss you,” he says, tone light but eyes heavy.

Your head feels staticky. “I’m gonna miss you, too,” you say. Any other time your voice would be too quiet to hear, but the morning is still, and James feels closer to you than he was a few moments before. “You’re right, I wish there’d been more time for…things.”

“We could keep in touch.” His voice has gone soft too. You can almost feel his warm breath on your face. “I don’t live that far from you, we could meet up on weekends, or…”

“Right,” you murmur, but you only get about halfway through before his lips are on yours.

James tastes like toothpaste and fresh air, and he kisses just like you thought he would, giving and taking in equal measure. His mouth is warm and easy on yours, testing the waters, feeling out what you want. You grip his shoulder to pull him closer, and despite the awkward angle he obliges you. Your head fills with buzzing bees.

You lose your balance and nearly fall off the fence, but James catches you, laughing into your mouth. He eases you both down onto the ground, appeasing you with kisses to your cheek, your jaw, the side of your nose until he finds his way back to your lips. The dewy wetness of the grass seeps into your clothes.

You feel more than see the sun rising over the lake. Golden light blooms on the insides of your eyelids, followed by a faint warmth on that side of your face. You find you’re actually alright with missing this one.

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circeyoru · 3 days

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Dead By Demon

[Killer!Alastor x Survivor!Reader - Dead By Daylight AU]

By some interesting world reason or whatever phenomenon that is still unexplainable to your feeble little mind, you got sent to a game you’ve been forced to play by your friends called Dead By Daylight

It’s a horror game that’s designed to be a match based game. Each game there are 5 players, 4 as survivors and 1 as the killer. In each game, the players are all sent to a randomized map. Each side with a different goal

The goal of the survivors is to survive, how? By fixing 5 machines called generators, then 2 exit doors on the map will be allowed to be opened and the survivors can escape through that. The killer’s goal is to kill all the survivors, either offering them to the entity by putting them on another machine called a hook or executing them

Of course, the game is not as simple as that, since there are other variables that can give the players advantages and disadvantages. Not to mention the play style of each gamer is different, on top of the ever changing maps and new characters for survivors and killers. As a beginner moving to somewhat more causal player, you were proud to say you are familiar with the mechanics of the game and can survivor flawlessly

THAT IS IF THE KILLERS AND SURVIVORS WERE THE SAME AS THE GAME YOU KNEW

Somehow, the killers and survivors were all major characters from a show you watched called Hazbin Hotel. You didn’t understand it, when you were brought in, they were all familiarity with the game’s mechanisms. Everything that happened in the show was distorted as their background information

You were a survivor. The others were Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, Husk, Niffty, Adam, Lute, Sera, Emily, and Saint Peter. You’re not surprised the hotel staff was all put in the survivor side, but you were surprised that the angels were all on your side as well. By guess, you can bet that the King of Hell and Overlords were all the killers

You learned that the hotel staff members were the first to arrive on the scene, then they were quickly sent to the maps of their former allies, Alastor and Lucifer

Alastor was formerly a radio host and serial killer during his days as a human, his maps were based on his hometown but the variety spread to a few, including his beloved home with his mother and the murder scene of his father, his radio broadcasting studio and work station where he writes his scripts and ideas, his swamp where it was his body dumping grounds, and his forest where it was his hunting grounds and death

Lucifer as the King of Hell also has a few maps. One was a smaller scale of Pentagram City, another was his garden, then his ducky workshop and kitchen, and last was his musical room which was still a giant map

There didn’t seen to be an issue with the first map as the 4 sent survivors were keen on escaping and Alastor was keen on killing them by placing them on hooks or executing them. For Lucifer though, he was a softy for whenever Charlie was present, always letting her survive while showing no mercy to the others

The first match was the scariest since they thought their lives were on the line, but when it was clear that they were only dead during the match and revived when the match ends, everything was more chill

But that depended on the killers and survivors. If there were bad blood between, things could get petty like taunting and letting other teammates die. If the killer wanted, they can watch the survivor suffer a bit before killing them. It was a twisted repeat day after day. Luckily, it was only 3 matches a day and the same survivor won’t be allowed to join more than 2 matches a day

Matches are placed in the morning, afternoon, and night. All players are random unless one volunteers, to which the opposite side would be notified and no other volunteers are allowed to allow for fairness. Matches can be quick or slow, depending on the players. Rewards for a win in a match are what the player wants. Like better living quarters, better food, entertainment items, etc

Outside of the matches, survivors and killers live in separate areas divided by a wall of flowing water. If a survivor or killer is injured, their condition will be fully revived during the match but returned to the way they are if they lost the match

All these information was all so overwhelming for you since it was on top of trying to adapt your new surrounding, but they were all used to it since it was slowly introduced to them. The second wave of survivors were the angels from Heaven and then the rest of the Overlords

It was only a matter of time before you also got used to all the stuff that you were thrown into

There was one change after your arrive. Whenever you were in a match, any other participants had more control over their own actions and mindset. The former desire to survivor or killer was weaken to none the longer and more experienced and familiar you got. You even found yourself getting familiar with the killers or former Overlords

Albeit you were trying to survive by buying time through chatting. The highest of success was high usually. Sometimes it doesn’t work because you don’t know much about them cause there was a lack of information revealed in the show

However, even though Alastor’s a favourite of yours. You hate being in the same match as him. Watching him from the safety of your home when he was just fictional was fine, but having him chasing you with a knife or a shotgun and a crazed smile? No! HELL NO!!!

Whenever it was revealed that Alastor was the killer in your match, you would immediately run to find your other teammates no matter who they are. You just can’t be left alone with him, even when you serve as a good bait to buy time and let your teammates fix the generators so they can open the exit for you to run towards

“There’s a limit to my mental stamina!!” You screamed at the top of your lungs while running away from the deer demon behind you. “I’m so beating you guys up when this match is over!”

Meanwhile, all your teammates are mentally thanking your sacrifice. “Keep up the good work, almost there.”

Before your arrival, Alastor could never enjoy his hunt. It was like he was wired to hunt and kill, there was no thrill, no entertainment as he would prefer. It was so dull and boring

Find a survivor, scare them, chase them, stab them till they can’t run, put them on a hook and watch them die or go hunt the other survivors, repeat repeat repeat. That was how predictable the matches became after the first few times. It got to the point that he doesn’t even try anymore when he was sent into a match, especially when he was so well off in his living conditions

He didn’t need the wins anymore, it was all meaningless

Then he heard from Zestial who got the honors of participating as the killer for your first match. He told the others after the last meal of the day when everyone was gathered around a bonfire to see if someone wants to volunteer for the next day

According to Zestial, when he entered the random map that was Carmilla’s weapons workshop, there was a weaken desire to hunt and kill the survivors, even more so when it was the unfamiliar figure he met. He had found a survivor fixing a generator, he tried creeping up to the poor soul, but your head was looked around as if you felt him

The moment he got one step closer, you bolted up and ran away from the area. His hunting and killing urge came back and he gave chase, when his claws came into contact with your figure and you screamed, he felt an unfamiliar ache. He watched your speed increase and ran out of sight as it was normal whenever a survivor was slashed by a killer, then he looked down to his bloody claws

That inferno desire weakened again, like he was returning back to his true self when he was outside of the match

Killer’s volunteer table was quickly filled up as everyone wanted a chance to test Zestial’s words. Though, only some were able to actually be in the same match as you, and fewer got the chance to see you. Turns out, you were a sensitive and perceptive survivor. If you were a killer, they knew you’d be something like an assassin or a sniper

When Alastor finally got a chance to experience a match with you, he was relieved that he could pick a target like the good old days and not whichever survivor that was around. Or even the ‘obsession’ that was randomly picked in the survivor team per match. He felt sweet control to do as he pleased

So he set out to find you. His mind raced. Will he hunt and give chase like his desires drive him to in his previous matches? Will he immediately try to slash you and bring you down so he can hook you? Will he have that weakened desire like Zestial did? What was your effect? Why are you special?

Finding you was easy as lucky wasn’t on your side. You were diligently trying to fix the generator but ended up busting it every so often which alerted him of your location, then that teammate of yours, Adam, as he recognized the golden wing design on his back, leave you and didn’t even warn you of the incoming killer

He got a fast ambush, a deep slash on your arm that definitely need mending else risk being rendered immobile. You quickly ran away like other survivors would, no difference. Yet, he was just standing there watching your form fade from his sight, leaving a trail of blood splatters in your wake

His legs moved as he decided he can’t let you out of his sight. No way, not after he felt that control and real killer instinct. You’re like his prey back in the days, he wants to get to know you then have the best chase of a lifetime. Cut you up and watch the lovely red paint you in beauty and posh

The best part was, he didn’t have to worry that it would be a one time thing. Both of you will never dead as long as this stupid game is on

“Darling, why are you running from me? Let’s play a game. Let’s enjoy our matches.”

Note: Okay.. I've been away for some time.... Haha.... I'm fine, just out of town and didn't have time to write. Plus I've been busy with a new game. Anyways, wanna get back to it with this and see how things go. So what you think of this?

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala

#Circe's Nighty Writings #Circe's requested writings #alastor headcanons #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #dead by daylight #dead by daylight au #hazbin hotel x dead by daylight #dead by demon

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wonton4rang · 3 days

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could you write something on Kictchen fuck with leehan?

ofc !! I am a hardcore taesan biased but I CAN'T deny that leehan sometimes has a place for too long in my mind :')

pairing; leehan x reader.

warnings; smut +18, and that's it, just some porn without plot, regular sex.

summary; kitchen fuck with your boyfriend leehan after being so absent for a couple weeks due to your job.

note; currently writing another ask I have for taesan 👀 always open for any thoughts or requests <33

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you were working like a bitch the last few weeks, loads and loads of paperwork filling your desk and restraining you from coming home at the end of your shift. it was tiring, your body was not going to keep holding on for much longer, so you requested your vacations. your boss did not want to let you go tbh, you took most of the work of the team and did everything perfectly, but he also knew that you needed to rest so he sent you home the week after you requested him those few days off. but let me tell you something, you were not the only want who wanted to be home, your pretty boyfriend had missed you too during those days that you wouldn't come home early enough for him to see you before falling asleep out of tiredness, and then when he woke up you were already gone, it was hell for leehan. you got home late last night and as usual you found him sleeping with his back on the bed's board, waiting for you with his arms crossed and his glasses resting in his nose bridge. he looked so hot you almost woke him up to give him the exciting news that you were staying home the next three weeks. you just removed his glasses and tried to make him sleep on his back without waking him up, it worked; you took to the bathroom and then tucked into the sheets with him. it was so nice to have him by your side. then the next morning when leehan got up, brushed his teeth and wdnt out of the bedroom guided by the smell coming from outside, he got sooo confused because it was saturday and it was HIS day off, you always did extra hours on saturdays so he had two things in mind: he is having visions or someone broke in. but he was so relieved yet dumbfounded when he saw you wearing his large shirt with just your underwear beneath it, you were quietly humming your favourite song of the moment, killer queen by none other than queen itself. and he would approach you from behind, his hands going automatically to hold the front of your tights and his head laying in the crook of your neck, leaving a few kisses before you talked "good morning, sleepyhead" your voice was such a turn on for him that you could literally feel his dick twitch in your back, his pajama pants being extremely thin. "are you staying the whole day, baby?" you nodded and turned around to face him, his hands immediately taking place in your ass, "i took my vacations" and that's all you said before you felt his plump lips against yours, his hands touching you with so much hunger you were confused as to how much he most have missed you those few weeks; and is not like you didn't miss him, but he was more in a calm side type of behaviour so he didn't really acted desperate most of the times. which led you to be very confused when you noticed he was not slowing down, quite the opposite, he was accelerating his pace and kissing you harder, his tongue exploring your mouth and his hard dick pressing against your tummy. "babe, can you take me now? can i... can i please...?" he couldn't even talk at this point, he was just so hot, so you let him, you ensured him that you could take it and well, you did, cause he lifted you up to the counter and took your underwear to the side so he could get in after taking his dick out of his trousers. you both saw heaven when he finally thrusted in, speeding up like his life depends on it, kisses trailing down your throat, small hickeys laying there and your hands tangling in his hair while you accepted everything he had to give you. it was so good, so good and so hot, you guys were so horny for the days you couldn't be together that it was not long before you both came, leehan coming first and being followed by you when he rubbed your clit with his thumb for a few seconds. "I missed you so much" he whispered against your cheek before placing a kiss there, still inside of your throbbing cunt. "i can tell, i missed you so bad too" and you guys forgot about breakfast for a while until the burnt smell made you realize you never turned off the pan in the stove. but it was okay, you were with your boyfie and you could always do the pancake mix again !!

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I am 100% sure that asks/ thoughts/ drabbles should not be this long but I just can't help it 😔 hope you guys enjoyed and that the person who requested this did too!!

#boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor scenarios #boynextdoor smut #boynextdoor x reader #leehan smut #leehan x reader

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bluebugjay · 15 hours

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I could write essays on Charles' character. He's so tragic. That trope of 'you've become the very thing you wish to destroy' isn't in act here but it is his exact fear. He was brutally murdered by his friends, friends who we are shown beating up another kid as well, so assumably this isn't a rare thing for them, plus his abusive father. In life he was surrounded by violence.

And now in death he chooses to label himself 'the brawn' , Edwin relys on him to be the fighter as he can't even throw a punch, he's the only one of the main characters who has a signature weapon (his cricket bat) , when he gets angry or defensive or scared he gets violent. Because of course he does, look at his life.

He gets so scared of being like his father or even his literal killers that he puts on a positive mask all of the time (30+ years) to hide the anger and the sadness because he's a 'good guy' and he's only seen bad guys handle their emotions the way he does. He gets defensive over Brad and Hunter to the point of fault because he's desperately grasping for a man who isn't the worst. He's looking for hope that he isn't just like the others. He says "We've tried it your way, and it did nothing. Let's try mine." referring to his 'way' as fighting, which immediately seems weird considering Edwin and Crystal argue more than any other characters in the show but that's just the thing, they argue. They're quick with their words and sharp and harsh with them but they don't get aggressive and that's what Charles picks up on. Their anger doesn't become aggression but his does and he villainises himself for that.

Truth is, he could never be like his father or his friends turned bullies because he's their victim and he died their victim, (Night nurse: You never made it better and then you died) His aggression only occurs in defense of others, in the Devlin House he swings at the Dad whilst saying "Think you're tough, killing a bunch of women" he fights in defence of them. Then when he attacks the Night Nurse its in defence of Edwin being sent to hell, them being split up and also probably for how she tricked Crystal into having hope she'd found her family. (though spurred on by the Night Nurse forcing him to relive his traumatic memories too) It's always in defence of someone, to protect them. Which is the exact opposite of why his father and bullies were violent.

This is what's so good about dbda because obviously aggression is a flaw even with the best morals backing it up. Crystal calls him out on his anger issues, saying her and Edwin are on eggshells around him and later on Charles breaks down crying to Edwin who insists he is a good person because he cares about being one. Charles is allowed to have this journey that is most likely still ongoing, dealing with anger and grief and fear and masculinity and violence. We never doubt he's a good guy despite his flaws because he simply is, and all of the other characters know that as well.

#i have like so much more to say #every character in this show drives me crazy i love them sooooo much #some of the quotes might not be 100% accurate but close enough #charles rowland #the dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #dead boy detectives #dbda

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