Carrion

He//they | bg&pfp found online | in a graveyard, rotting slowly

[rotting-creation]

WARNING - THIS IS ARSON-N-BARF ! I JUST CHANGED MY USERNAME

DNI: terfs/radfems, truscum/transmed, tcc, incels/femcels, exclusionists, wilbur apologists, radqueer, paraphiles, anti-kink, ddlg/cgl or abdl

shipping discourse is on thin ice

Ur fave femboy :3

more userboxes under cut, still setting up pinned post!!

[antx-chrxst]

Hiiii! I just love how you write Coyle, it’s just perfect. Anyway, I was just wondering if you’d be willing to write some obsessed Coyle smut? Not like in a stalker way (although…), maybe just like a he needs the reader in a primal sort of way, just always desperate for her?? Idk if that makes sense and feel free to ignore this :) but anyway, for my sake, plz keep posting <3

Awww thank you so much, anon!! 🖤 That Cowboy!Coyle fic is still in the works I promise!! I have just been so busy recently and every time I return to it my brain just blanks but I swear, I am trying to finish it!!

This is something that I would definitely want to explore in a wayyyy longer and more thought out form but if you would let me just throw up some thoughts real quick (Not very quick though are we, Anti, this turned out to be quite long already, strap in! Hope you enjoy!)

🖤 (NSFW Under the Cut, AFAB Reader, DUBCON, Marking, Obsessed!Coyle)

Coyle would 100% be a Yandere archetype, jealousy fuelling him every time he’d see his favourite reagent even so much as in the same room with another reagent, expop or especially Prime Asset.

If he came across your entire team, he’d wait until you all scamper off in different directions, but then only chase you out of the four. He wouldn’t let up either, stalking you like a wolf toying with its prey. Even if your other teammates tried to distract him to get him away from you, he’d still persist.

He’d likely corner you in a dark room, waiting until you were alone, split off from the rest of your team. You’d be quietly working on an objective or looking for a certain item that you needed, when all of a sudden, a leather-clad hand would clasp over your mouth, another wrapping around your stomach.

You could try to scream, to wriggle away. But it would be all for naught.

Coyle would hold you tight to him, breathing heavily down your neck before pressing his nose against it, inhaling deeply. Your scent intoxicates him, fuelling his drive to be with you even more. You suddenly feel his hardening length pressing against your ass as he’s holding you close.

“Now, sweetness. Sergeant Leland Coyle’s gonna show you just who you belong to.” He growls quietly against your skin, quickly latching his teeth into the delicate flesh of your neck where he bites and sucks at the skin.

It hurts, but you must persist. Your actions are the only thing that can tip the scales of fate in your favour.

You can feel your body betraying you in response to his touches, your hot breath mingling with the quiet whimpers tumbling from your lips. He chuckles in response, licking your neck to soothe the sting of his bite.

His breaths are heavy, needy.

He’s suddenly pushing you across the room, bending you over a desk and rutting impatiently against the soft mounds of your ass. Bending forward to pin you slightly, and to mumble in your ear.

“I’ve been waitin’ so long for you, sweetness. You’ve teased me for far too fuckin’ long. Y’understand? This is what you do to me.” His words are slurring slightly, almost drunk off of the fact he finally has you where he wants you. You can feel him growing more and more impatient as you hear him fumble with his belt buckle, the jingles subsiding as it hits the floor with a soft thud.

Next his hands grab at your hips, yanking your pants down and off of your ass, letting them pool around your ankles. His eyes widen at your glistening, bare skin, his hands immediately groping at the soft flesh. He’s groaning and whining slightly, even though he’s not even receiving any physical stimulation, just being able to finally touch you is more than enough.

“Oh, Sweetness.” He’s lost in emotion, even so much so as settling down on his knees behind you, kissing and biting at your asscheeks, leaving trails of bite marks and bruises in the wake of his teeth. Each bite is painful, but to Coyle it’s a reminder of who you belong to now. The person who marked you. Everyone will get to see the necklace of purples and reds that Coyle left behind.

He’s biting at your inner thighs, squeezing the skin roughly with his calloused fingers, leaving tiny crescents in your skin from his nails. Every inch of skin will be, needs to be, marked. By him.

He flips you onto your back on the table, settling back down in between your thighs, licking a long, slow strip from your entrance to your clit, sending shivers down your spine. His hands are holding onto your thighs like his life depends upon it, as he begins to eat you out like you’re the only source of sustenance left in Sinyala. He’s licking, sucking and slurping at your clit, allowing himself to delve a finger into your soaked heat.

The sudden intrusion shocks you slightly, a sharp gasp leaving your body, but quickly followed by needy moans and whimpers as he begins to thrust his finger in and out of you, shortly adding a second finger along with it, keeping up his brutal pace. You begin to see stars, and Coyle chuckles as he can feel your muscles tensing around his fingers.

But this is just the beginning.

As you gush out over his fingers, he’s there, lapping it up with his tongue, shivering as he tastes you. It’s delectable, and now more than ever he can’t bare the mere thought of somebody else getting this close to you.

He has to get closer.

He abruptly slides his fingers out of you, standing back up. He begins caressing the skin of your thighs gently, feeling your softness beneath his rough hands. He quickly pulls his length from the confines of his uniform pants, it springing free and hitting his stomach with a gentle thud. He’s already leaking precum, so riled up just from the sight of you, let alone being able to finally touch you.

“This is what you’ve made me wait for for so long, isn’t it sweetness? You made me wait ‘cus you wanted to see how desperate I’d get. You know what’cha do to me.” He leans forward, caging you in against the table with his big arms, his voice a gravelly whisper in your ear.

“Well now you’ve got me, sugar.”

Your eyes widen as he pins you down with his upper body before pushing his entire length into you. The stretch is brutal, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes at the sting. By the gods he’s thick. The only thing you can focus on in that moment is his size, the feeling of him nestled deep against your cervix. It’s so overstimulating that your walls begin to pulse softly against him in a feat to adjust to his size.

He groans on top of you, a deep, guttural growl rumbling through his body. His face is scrunched up in an expression of pleasure and hunger, gazing down at your own face, which is also twisted into a pleasured yet pained expression.

One of his hands reaches over to cup your face gently, softly shushing you and mumbling gentle words of praise and appreciation toward you.

It’s endearing, yet at the same time utterly terrifying.

You gaze up at him in a teary daze, your face flushed and warm to the touch. It immediately ignites a fire within Coyle, as he growls again, louder this time, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise.

“You’re mine now, y’understand?!” He growls, accentuating every word with a harsh, deep thrust, skin slapping together after every syllable. “If I see anyone, and I mean anyone, be it reagent or any of those other fucking Murkoff freaks try to touch you, it’s on fuckin’ sight!” His voice is slightly shaky, as if the mere thought of you with anybody else is making him want to break down in tears.

His thrusts are at such a brutal pace, you begin to cry out. Pained moans and whimpers begin to tumble out of your mouth as he fucks into you, holding you close to him. Your arms tentatively reach up to wrap themselves around his neck to hold onto him, and he grins slightly through his concentrated thrusts.

Skin slapping against skin echoes throughout the room above the lewd sounds of the two of you moaning and panting. The heat between the two of you is beginning to become unbearable.

With a final cry you cling to Coyle, nails digging into his jacket as you finally hit your climax around him, which spurs on his own. Thick ropes of hot seed spurt out of him into you, the warmth filling your stomach as tears roll down your face.

He presses his face against the side of your own, a whispered growl pouring into your ear: “Mine.”

He delicately shifts the two of you, keeping himself nestled deep inside you but allowing him to sit upright with you perched on top of his lap. He’s holding you close, stroking your hair as he presses your head against his chest. You can smell his cocktail of leather and sweat, but it feels…strangely comforting?

He grins as he keeps you close to him, keeping you still. Keeping you. Forever.

You’re not going anywhere ever again, Sweetness.

[hime-kaji-louie]

tw: horny posting once more, Yandere themes, puppy play

Okay, like Yandere Pre-Murkoff Coyle, but he decides to work from home..

With the job he has, it should be impossible to do, considering he must always be active in his field. However, this is Pre-Murkoff Coyle we are talking about; he has an amazing reputation with almost everyone, which allows him to do whatever it takes to accomplish what he wants & what he wants is you to be his little lap dog while he works on reports.

Coyle is typing & writing off reports for his department, & you are underneath his desk almost entirely naked besides your underwear, it compliments your ass, & a collar with the title "Property of Leland Coyle" on it. Of course, you don't understand the point of it because you're a house dog. You haven't spoken to anyone since you finally allowed him into your life.

As his lap dog, your job is just to be present with him. If he says he wants you in his bed, you will be in his bed. If he says he wants you underneath his desk, you will be. Wherever he goes inside the house, you must be with him. I don't think Coyle trusts you to be on your own because that man is paranoid. He always thinks you are planning on escaping, considering you are trapped here with him.

Coyle also doesn't trust others, which is another reason he'll never let you leave. He'll give you anything you want as long as you do everything he wants. It's an eye for an eye.

Now, whenever Coyle has a rough day of going through paperwork & he gets angry at his incompetent co-workers who can't do anything right, Coyle is going to use you as his stress toy.

His bulge is pitching a large tent in front of your face & you can hear his agitated smoking. His face was in an aggressive frown, staring at his paperwork with the utmost hatred. He couldn't make out a full sentence from him, but you can tell from his grumbles that it was about the reports he was reading through.

Coyle never allowed you to speak fully. Whines, growls, whimpers, moans, whatever, but you never uttered a word. You decided to paw at his crotch & lean your head into his thigh. You gave him the sweetest of eyes as your way of noticing the anger he's currently radiating.

Coyle looks down at you & cups your cheek. "Is my pup worried 'bout me? I'm pissed if that's what yer wonderin'. Do you want to help me? Do you want to help me relax, baby?" You nodded as you had kept moving up & down slowly at his hardon. He groans lowly, his hips rising towards your hand.

"Pull me outta my jeans for me, baby. I'll give ya a nice juicy bone just for you."

[hime-kaji-louie]

May we have a bit more Franco stuff, oh wise one?

~ 🪶

But of course

tw: suggestive

Franco loves to sit in your lap. He doesn't give a flying fuck if he's too heavy & he wants to be on your lap & wants his back rubbed.

Following up on that, if you were to rub Franco's back, he would pass out immediately. You will feel the complete weight of this man on you, go limp & depending on whether you can lift him up or not, you may be stuck there.

Franco is a light sleeper in my eyes, but he can easily go back to sleep.

Franco loves nipples; it doesn't matter who you are, he's SUCKING on 'em.

I feel like Franco would hate sleeping alone. He likes having you near him while he sleeps.

May be afraid of the dark, he can't see & random sounds make him very jumpy, causing him to shoot his gun in the direction of where he heard the noise. He tries to act like he's brave about it.

Franco has a fetish whenever you dress more maturely. That sexy professional look, or how you look like an older person, like a caretaker, or that sexy teacher look. It turns him on like crazy.

If you put on cologne or perfume that smells like vanilla or something sweet, you will have this man on his knees. He loves it when you smell good.

[birdieormutt]

Expops Smoking

AN: Guys, smoking is very bad for you health don't do it...BUT it's also hot and sexy so here we go

CW: smoking, burning

Everyone has been performing so well in the trials! So Easterman gets everyone boxes of cigars

I've talked about Liliya smoking before...it makes me feel funny

She's sitting, man-spreading on a leather chair and makes you crawl over to her with a lighter in your mouth

Even better, they're lounging around in the expop sleeproom and you're everyone's shared pet

You're bringing the lighter around for everyone

Your reward is they're blowing smoke in your face

Franco's dragging you to sit in his chair with him, legs draped over his lap

He's in such a good mood, he finally got something good to smoke

If you're good he'll hold it to your lips and let you take a puff from it

Leland wants your attention next and is snuffing it out on your hip just to make you light it again

Night Hunter using you as an ashtray

Leland is smoking it and spitting every 5 seconds and spitting in your mouth EVERY TIME

I don't think Mama Gooseberry gets involved in smoking

BUT the Kress Twins smoke in private all the time

Otto has a cigar and Arora a clove cigarette

Blowing smoke in your face while petting you and having you sit in Otto's lap

Liliya finishes the night off my putting her cigar out on your tongue

[mutilatedscrap]

A quick piece

Nsfw/half-assed

Knock, knock, — Romance re-runs

“Don’t you ever wish we could do something more?”

“Like what?”

“Like exploring the world. Maybe even adopt a dog,” you suggest.

“Now you're talking nonsense.”

“Maybe. Maybe being cooped up in this house has made all my sense, nonsense.” You lean into the cushions, sighing as you arch your chest and cross your legs.

A pair of blues take in every dip as you get comfortable. A crooked smile displayed under his crooked nose. “Enough about nonsense,” his voice tried to coo but was engulfed with the thick smoke. “I say we get a kickback n’,” he snuggled up to you, eyes glued to your chest, “enjoy a show or sum’.” He suggested before rolling his eyes back up.

“A show?”

“Yeah, a show! Look,” he hovered the remote above you. “I’ll even let you pick this time.”

His cheeky smile told you he was being generous. More so than normal. You smiled and took the remote not wanting to wait around. “Oh Franco, we are going to watch the most perfect, most romantic sh—“

“Just pick one already.” He said, muffled in between your boobs.

You hummed and landed on a rerun of cheesy romcon you saw the other week. You shiver as you feel his warm tongue trailing up your ribs to your navel. Stopping every so often to give each of the twins their share of affection. You rub your legs together, biting your lip as the show's main character finds his wife doing the dishes.

‘We’ll look at you,’ the man smirked, coming up behind her and wrapping his burly arms around her waist. She giggled as she felt his pelvis slam into her. Not a subtle show one bit.

You felt a pair of rough fingers ease their way down your crotch. Lowering your skirt, sliding into your panties, getting them all wet and ready before brushing against your clit. You buck as you feel his fingers pinching it, rolling it between his middle and index finger. You wrap one of your legs around him as he climbs on top of you, pushing his body against yours like he wants to melt into your skin.

He takes the plunge.

Shoving his fingers in with no effort but it sets your clit ablaze. You can feel him poking around, looking for something while his well trimmed nails lightly scratch along your walls.

You cried as he took hold of your nipples between his teeth. Nibbling down as he let out hearty laughs.

You hate his laugh but you hate it even more when he takes pleasure in torturing you. It was addicting to hear. It made your lips throb around his digits. He went faster, feeling your pent up energy. You felt him smile into your chest while he sucked and kissed your throat, leaving your chest to rub against his.

When had he taken off his shirt? You weren’t sure but luckily it was enough friction to last until you heard the glorious sound of a zipper going down.

“You goin’ to fuck me, bambi?” You slurred , already high on erotica.

“Yeah,” he drawled. “I’m gonna fuck whatever’s left in dumb little head of yours, baby.” Smacks a wet one right on your eyelid.

Then he threw your legs over your head and aligned his cock, tip rubbing against your entrance, sliding all the way up to your clit to give it a little kiss. He chuckles as he reels back—

Knock knock

Everything went still besides the TV show.

Knock knock

“Oh my god,” he whispered, nails digging into your thighs.

“Aye Bambino!” A rugged voice called through the door. One of his papa’s lackies. “ You're wanted in the bay area. Boss’s demands. Don’t make us come by to tell you twice.”

You could see the small vein about the burst from his large forehead. He dropped his head into your chest, sighing deeply before rubbing your arms. “Gotta go. Boss’s orders.”

You nod your head.

He kissed your chest before kissing your lips.

“Come back soon,” you whispered. “We still have to get through the first season.”

He laughed in your face.

[heretyc]

I had a dream last night that Enver Gortash from Baldur's Gate worked at Murkoff, he was best friends with Jeremy and Trager and I was trying to email him as I was his coworker/wife [for some reason?????] and this was his fucking email profile pic

I'm not taking you seriously man 💔

[brambllle]

I think if Franco is in the mood, he might mimic your accent, if you have one. Just for fun and to see your reaction. Yes, he's Italian, but he doesn't really care.

He loves seeing your facial expressions change. Did you blush from embarrassment or anger? That's cute! Did you roll your eyes and "ignore" it? Franco can still see he's bothered you! He's such a jerk.

If you want revenge, mimic him back, but he'll quickly get angry. So yeah be prepared for that!

[heretyc]

"What Do You Like About Me?" [Outlast Drabbles]

FIRST COLLECTION OF FICS IN 2026?!?!??!!? To think I turn 24 next month, holy shit. ANYWAY...I had this cute idea. Enjoy.

Also why the fuck did a guy slapping a woman show up when I looked up 'hand gif'. HELLO????? VIOLENCE, ON MY OUTLAST GORE PORN SIBLING INCEST NECK VAGINA BLOG?

Tried doing most of the characters for now. My fingies ache. Gahhhh.

Miles —

Hum. A scan of your face. A bite of his lip before he grinned, poking your nose. "Nose. It's cute to boop."

"I'm not a dog, Miles."

He snickered, "No, but you are my bitch in bed."

He didn't question why he slept in the dog house that night.

Waylon —

He looked away from his laptop to look at you for a second, before his eyes locked back on to the screen. "Eyes. Windows to the soul, and all."

And yet he subjects his eyes to blue light at 11 PM. Priorities, Waylon.

Trager —

His one, uncoated eye looked at you with that famous expression. 'You know what I'm doing to say', his eyes seem to express.

You sighed. "My fingers-"

"Your fingers, yeah."

You ignored his scissors clicking like teeth at a buffet.

Chris —

Chris was a man of so little words. He preferred actions. And those actions involved pressing his nails into your scalp, in an attempt to soothe whenever you had a bad day.

Good piggy, he wanted to murmur. But scratches were enough.

Eddie —

He screamed it from the mountaintops, he whispered it into your ears, he traced the word on your thigh whenever you laid.

His favourite part? Your legs. And he wanted everybody, especially you, to know.

Jeremy —

"Lips. Definitely." Naughty, his smirk was as he sipped at scotch from behind his desk. Business at Mount Massive was booming, but he was never too busy. Not for you. "They wrap nicely around-"

And that's when Richard had to walk in. Bitch.

Frank —

...He's a cannibal, what do you think? Unfortunately he's more interested in the head stuck in the microwave, but...y'know. Not too late to do the same thing.

Walrider —

All of you. Because, like...he possesses people. So...yeah. He likes all of you. Good for him, we love a man who loves every inch of his partner's body.

...Preferably not when possessing you, cause that shit hurts, but...y'know.

Knoth —

He's a man of the LORD, you think he has UNSAVOURY DESIRES? That is abSURD.

Your legs. He...he likes your legs. Because they can march you straight to church. [He's not fooling anybody at this point, is he??]

Marta —

She's quiet. Like a field before a thunderstorm, like a moment before prayer uttered by a preacher.

But she looks at you, white eyed and calm, and simply utters, "Your eyes."

And she goes back to reading the bible in her hands.

Val —

Coated in mud and sin and uttering curses like a priest utters words of the lord, Val stood before you with a raised brow and a knowing grin, their hair mussed. After-orgy apparel is what you usually called it.

"Now, sweetheart," they began, their voice sly, "You know the answer to that. I know you do."

You still feel the throbbing in your groin. You knew better than to let them include their crucifix in sex, fuck...

Laird & Nick —

Legs. And fingers. And everything else. Because you're not diseased like they are. Must be nice.

Easterman —

"Your eyes."

He exhaled smoke from between his lips, brows raised. "Full of innocence, my little How High. Just how I like you."

He knew just what to say.

Clyde Perry —

With eyes like his, it was surprising to hear that he-

"Like your eyes," he muttered around a cigarette, fresh blood from a newly acquired prime asset coating every gloved digit, "Glossy, shiny...full of love for me, obviously."

Was he wrong?

Leland Coyle —

"You've got a lot of fuckin' nerve asking me somethin' as gushy as that," he scoffed, but he answered anyway, "your voice. I like it when you scream."

Typical Coyle.

Franco Barbi —

His eyes went from your eyes...to your chest.

Your eyes...

...to your chest.

He didn't need to say anything. And nor did you. Not even when he shoved you onto the couch and ripped your shirt off. The doctors watching from the windows certainly had things to say, though.

Not...not good things.

Gooseberry —

"I can't seem to choose, deary!" Her voice was always so chipper, so pleasant. Music to your ears. "I love a lot of things about you."

"I like it when you shuts the fuck up, Phyllis!" Futterman chortled from his position on her hand, "It makes my whole fucking week!"

Asshole.

Arora and Otto —

"Your cheeks." "Your jewelry."

Both said at the same time. But Otto raised a brow. "Jewelry, my dear Arora? We bought it for them."

"I know," she hummed, "I have damn good taste."

Liliya —

"Soul. It's pure."

And that's all she rasped out before she froze in place, waiting for another reagent to walk by. She was a woman of very little words, but you could tell she means them.

Danny —

"Yer height, sugar," the tall man snickered, bending at the knee in order to look at you properly. "So short. Could put ya in my pocket if I wanted to."

Tempting.

Pitcher —

For once, the usually loud man was silent; no screaming, no yelling, no muttering curses at the reagents. For now, he was holding your hand with a comfortable tightness, leading you out and away from the gasoline-infested areas of the train station.

He liked your hands. A lot.

Night Hunter —

He sucked in air through his teeth as he thought, his eyes hidden by the goggles stuck to his face. "I like..." his accented voice began, clicking his tongue as he thought some more.

"...your legs, glowworm. They take you far, and fast."

He wasn't himself, surely. He didn't even make a sexual reference-!

"And they wrap around me nice."

Annnd there it was.

Pusher —

"Everything, baby!" He laughed behind his mask before pulling you close, "Now open up, I got a bigggg surprise for you!"

It was drugs. It's always drugs.

[vampire-inebriation-asylum]

Franco Barbi who was thinking you're mommy material, but after watching you follow orders, rely on the older/experienced reagents, and be a bit of a cry baby, he realizes you better suit as a baby.

Specifically a babydoll for him to play with.

"C'mere doll, baby wants to play..."

[asterfey]

tags & content: NSFW, dub-con, breast feeding, mommy kink, infantilism, threats of violence, afab reader

“Jesus Christ, the fucking knockers on this fucking broad…” Franco mutters to himself, his grubby hand squeezing your breast and marvelling at the flesh with half lidded eyes. You wince, stifling the quiet sob on your tongue. His Lupara is already precariously on the ground beside your head, ready to be snatched at a moments notice.

His teeth dig into the tip of your nipple, roughly stroking over the flesh of your breast before he’s wrapping his lips back around it. His slimy tongue laps over the pebbled flesh, breath puffing against your wet skin.

His hips twitch, like he’s trying to find something to rut against.

“Aww, yeah,” he moans, his voice trembling as he sucks your nipple harder. His fingers dig painfully into your other breast, like he’s trying to gather all the fat in one little hand. “Oh, you make baby happy.”

Tears slide down your cheeks. You don’t think he cares for your discomfort, just that you ‘keep the racket down’ or else you’ll find your skull blasted open with his shotgun. His threat, spat with contempt, clings to you.

It’s disgusting, the way he’s lavishing your nipples, the flesh swollen and sore; lapping at something you doubt your body is producing a substantial amount of. Especially not to satisfy the il Bambino sucking at your chest like it’s an animal’s teet.

He groans, lapping at your breasts before pushing them together roughly, burying his face in your cleavage.

“Mommy,” he moans breathlessly. “Fuckin’ beautiful. So warm.”

Franco squeezes hard, forcing you to bite the inside of your cheek until you taste blood. His head finally rises, panting deliriously, his skin seemingly flushed under the artificial lights. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, smacking them together, deliberately exaggerated.

You try not to look at him with teary eyes, focusing on the dangling pacifier against his chest. But Franco is in a daze, rolling your breasts, pushing them up and letting them drop, just to watch they way the flesh bounces and rolls from momentum. He barks out a lustful laugh.

“Bet I could fill a whole factory if I milked these fucking jugs, ain’t that fucking right, sugar?”

You sniffle, watching his chest wobble in delight, as he switches breasts and starts all over again.

[chocolatcoveredcherub]

What about Franco and reagent who openly flirts with him but is afraid if he gets too close?? Like yeah I'll let you suck my breast anytime! Oh no I hear his footsteps, I need to hide!

TEACH ME HOW TO SCREAM - FRANCO BARBI 🍼 X READER

Note: Got a little carried away with this one 💔 I’m combining this with an anon’s request for a one-shot for similar headcanons which you can find here! Ft. Inspo from Teach Me How To Scream by Brokecyde

Includes: Franco Barbi x Reader, Gender neutral! Reader, Mommy remains a gender neutral term for Franco, Porn with plot

Word Count: 813

Content Warning: NSFW, DubCon, all of your usual Outlast warnings. Expect violence, sex / various unusual kinks, and overall pretty gnarly behavior after the break.

-

Your heart felt as though it was going to burst through your chest as your bare feet pressed against the freezing, disgusting concrete floor of the faux docks you stumbled through. Despite the Murkoff corporation’s failure to include anything.. well, really dock-like into the trial, the metallic string of blood and putrid fish hung heavy in the artificial breeze. You glanced over your shoulder, watching your fellow reagents tug their night vision goggles over their eyes. Grinning to yourself, you watched them move forward through the trial in an attempt to solve the puzzles ahead, while you were searching for something else.

You ducked under noisemakers and crates as you searched for Franco Barbi-something about the man fascinated you. Maybe it was his clear desperation for constant attention which he attempted to mask with violence, or the way you could practically see him begging on his knees for even a peak at your chest. Either way, you revealed in teasing the man from a distance.

Slowly but surely, you began to catch traces of the man through the echoing of curses, sniffling and chattering teeth beneath the thickness of drool. As you finally reached Franco, tucking your frame behind a barrel, you took a moment to examine his short stature. He stumbled about the docks with the same level of competence of a headless chicken, his lupara clenched tight in his gloved first as his bulbous head whipped over his shoulder.

“You fuckin’ animals, comin’ in this place- this is my fuckin’ home!” Franco’s excessive cursing earned a snort from you- not because it was necessarily entertaining, but because it was like he had just learned how to. Your snort, however, seemed to catch his attention. As you watched the man’s piercing, droopy eyes flick to your direction as he let out a chuckle.

You quickly rose to your feet,every instinct screaming at you to get out of sight before Franco decided he wanted a closer look. Unfortunately, this was just apart of the game you played, and moving only seemed to make him more interested.

“Aww, where ya goin’, huh mommy?” he called, dragging out the words with a crooked grin. “I ain’t done lookin’ at ya.”His oversized shoes crunched against the floor as he sauntered closer. His swollen eyes never left you as you cupped your chest, giggling as you began to tease him.

“Aw, come on, baby. I think you’ve stared at me quite a few times now.” Your words caused Franco to skid to a halt, his face obviously flushing as his eyes locked onto your chest, his salivation dripping down his chin before his eyes slowly moved back to your face. Whoops.

As Franco snapped out of his trance-like state and began to rapidly dash towards you, you turned around on your heels and began sprinting as hard as you could away from him. “Come here, you fuckin’ slut! You think you can just tease a man like that and get away with it? Huh?!” Okay, maybe this was a bad idea. You pivoted a corner, thumping down the hallway before tucking yourself into a nearby dresser. Unlucky for you, Franco watched the door creak closed, bolting over and ripping the door open before yanking you out by the collar of your shirt.

“Oh, you dirty whore.. you think you can just tease baby like that, huh?” Franco slammed you into the concrete your feet burned against just moments before, his trusty lupara digging into your side as he licked his lips, reaching towards your chest as he ripped your buttoned shirt to the side. He gave it a firm squeeze, licking his lips as his breath became heavy and labored. You squirmed beneath his surprisingly firm grasp as his eyes widened at the sight of your exposed chest, his mouth instantly wrapping around your nipples as he suckled and nibbled every inch of you.

You attempted to kick at him, resulting in his shotgun digging deeper into your side as his mouth drew only a few inches away from your body. “Mommy.. you can’t fuckin’ treat baby like that and then take away his sugar.. what kind of mother would torture their baby like that? Huh?” a feeling of regret pitted your stomach, though you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pleasure from his touch. You began to space out a bit as his mouth moved lower and lower down your torso, eventually watching his gloved hands tug down your bottoms as his bucked teeth grazed the most sensitive parts of your body. “Could crawl up inside you..” he muttered against your flesh.

Franco’s mouth momentarily wrapped around you before you let out a reluctant groan, causing him to peak his head up with a grin.

“There you go mommy.. baby’s gonna have so much fuckin’ fun with you, you slut. Gonna make you scream my name like it’s goin’ out of style..”

-

[mutilatedscrap]

Your heels, madam?

Franco hadn't spared a single glance at the lingerie, panties, or bras while you two browsed the district. His face was far too famous for a public mall, but these high-end, secret exclusive boutiques offered next-season fashion long before it hit the public. It was a luxury that always felt so thrilling to indulge in.

If only he seemed to care.

On your way out his once loose grip clamped around your wrist. You looked over to find him completely still, his eyes wider than normal. “Franco?” He bit his bottom lip. You raised an eyebrow and followed his gaze to a small shoe boutique near the exit. The neon sign buzzed in vibrant shades of pink and purple. “Trixie’s Treats,” you read out loud. That broke him out of his trance.

Franco dragged you toward the window. The boutique displayed every kind of footwear imaginable from sleek pumps to flats to tiger print flip-flops with matching ankle bracelets—

but their current showcase featured louboutins.

They were all so glossy, glittery, and sharp enough to pierce a persons eye out.

You spent nearly two hours inside. Franco insisted you try on every single pair of heels he could get his hands on, not worrying about the bill. He watched you pace, catwalk, and strut across the showroom floor, his eyes locked onto the movement of your feet.

It was exhausting but the weight of his undivided attention made you feel special again so you'd happily do a few spins and heel taps if he asked.

You went home with over 140 new pairs of heels ready to break in.

[brambllle]

If you're going to criticize men bc they don't respect women, then believe me, Franco Barbi will agree with EVERYTHING you say as long as he has hope that you'll let him suck your tits🤞🤞🤞

[chimerakisu]

ik nobody's talking about these songs anymore but I've been thinkin about this ship ever since ERB came out so... I call this "Confessions of a Rotten Ego Renegade Boy" because it's dumb and it fits them

genuinely obsessed w this concept now might draw these gay sillies more

(ignore tags)

[onequeermushroom]

"but aromantic people can still be in romantic relationships! i headcanon this character as demiromantic" okay then

where's the "do i really love them romantically? or did i just convince myself i do?

where's the "am i still really aromantic? what if it was just a phase? what if i'm normal, actually?"

where's the "what even is romantic love. what even is the difference being romantic love and platonic love. nothing is inherently romantic, it all depends on intent. but that can't be the only difference, can it? then people could just chose to be in love. but that's not how it works, is it?? "

where's the not being aro enough for aro spaces but being too aro for allo spaces

where's the "i keep falling for my friends and it keeps costing me friendships. help!"

where's the "what even is dating. how does that even work"

where's the not getting crushes. it's either completely fully in love or nothing

where's the being perfectly happy without a romantic partner, but also happy if you happen to have one

where's the needing unusually long to get over a relationship and detangle yourself

where's the "love at first sight is fake, it doesn't work like that"

where's the "i don't know you well enough yet to be romantically interested in you. i don't even know you well enough to know if i could be romantically interested in you"

where's the usual aro stuff. having difficulty with romantic relationships or situations without knowing why. not being able to relate when others talk about their crushes and relationships. advice always being either "talk about it" or "break up" if asked. feeling like there's something wrong with you bc you don't work like everyone else

demiromantic people are still aromantic. you can't use that as a cop out to write aro characters as if they're allo

- sincerely, a demiromantic person who'd like more accurate representation

[nite-puff]

monokuma voice: my students who i hate