-me Rn Because No One Said Which Krampus To Write With.

Monster!König x Reader pt.2

You guys liked the first one so I'll keep going.

Warnings: tentacles, curse words. Mate mention

M!König: Who left a bundle of fish wrapped in seaweed for you one day in front of the veterinarian building. Which the desk workers stumbled upon first, with no note. So they were disgusted by it and threw it away before you could see it. And König was pissed.

M!König: Who had to catch more fish but this time, he hand delivered it to you. He made his way into the vet once again and glared down at the desk worker, specifically the one who threw away that perfectly good batch of fish.

M!König: Who, when he saw you, presented the fish once again. It was dripping on the floor, the seaweed bundle. You smiled wearily and took the fish, looking over the different kinds. You thanked him and promised you'd eat all of them, even mentioning you favored one fish species that was caught in the bundle. "I know some good recipes for these."

M!König: Who... couldn't stop staring at you. Something was clicking in his head, something he really liked. He felt his tentacles beneath his hood stir and his eyes widened a bit at the realization. When it became quiet in the lobby, you asked quietly if you could look him over to see if he was healing properly. He nodded and followed you to your office once again. Once you two were alone and he lifted his hood, you put your gloves on and reached up, moving some of the tentacles aside.

M!König: Who was deeply embarrassed when his tentacles wrapped around your hands, more than last time. He said nothing. You commented that he was healing amazingly. Without muttering a word he pulled his hood back down and left the vet. You watched, confused and missing a glove because his tentacles wouldn't let go.

M!König: Who just fucked himself over by x10. It was only meant as a thank you, but when you happily took the bundle, stating you liked the fish?? He swallowed thickly and covered his eyes. He had to ignore this, the urge to take you as his mate. You were a human, he was not, this wouldn't work. Not that he knows for sure. But the urge to give you more, to provide and show you that he could be a good mate..it's not going away.

M!König: Who felt the funny glove taste in his mouth still and pulled the glove out from his tentacles. He stared at the blue piece of latex, thoughts bubbling in his mind, but he ultimately threw the glove away, his face red.

~~~

Vet!Reader: Who washed all the fish and wrapped them in something more sanitary to bring them home later. You'd be spending the slow parts of the day looking up other recipes for the other fish.

Vet!Reader: Who got playfully teased because the 'scary fisherman' was trying to court them. You'd only grin, looking away and typing on your phone. You then got curious and began to do some broad research on tentacle face people. And frowned when something called The Call of Cthulhu popped up, but you saved it to read for later. Maybe it could tell you more about your friend König.

A bit under the weather.

I've been feeling out of it, it's ame thing but I'll snap out sooner or later. Sorry that my updates aren't coming as my much as before.

Stay tuned, but go grab a snack or a lil drink while you wait.

Update <3

I've seen everyone that asked to be tagged in my full fic, and I will I promise!

I have to study for finals. I have two super important ones on Monday kill me and then a final due Tuesday im gonna cry in the shower tonight.

:')

some loving thoughts and motivational words might help if yall would like to send them in.

Bwahahaha...I found a way to use my stickers without using them.

👹💁

Invisible Man x Reader pt. 3

I'm tired, I'm a little drunk. I finished my first year of college. And I'm hungry. I'm sorry t took so long.

Warnings: mentions of poison, mentions of suicide by drinking (nothing serious) slight mention of past abuse (you'd have to squint), some drinking, male masturbation, mentions of sex.

Minors DNI, everyone else, enjoy :)

~~~Read under the cut~~~

You turned on your side and kept your eyes closed. Breathe in, breathe out. Again. Then you sigh. You weren’t able to sleep, and being in an unfamiliar old room wasn’t helping. Griffin wasn’t wrong when he said the room hadn’t been used in years. You could see dust particles floating about the moment he opened the door. It was an old bedroom, with a dresser, a vanity, and a large bed. All covered in dust. You made a face when he first showed it to you. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, you grabbed a duster and a broom. It was 11 o’clock at night when you finished cleaning, but you were satisfied.

After Griffin brought you some of his clothes to sleep in, you thanked him and wished him a good night. He did the same and retreated into his bedroom. You got dressed, giggling at yourself for wearing even more men’s clothes, then got into the dust-free bed. The blankets were cool and fluffy, and the extra pillows on the bed made you feel as if you were lying upon the clouds. So, you lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Your fingers twisted at the fabric on your chest, and you inhaled to sigh but paused. Your eyes scan the shirt; then slowly, you lift it to your nose. You take a small sniff, and your nostrils are greeted with the faint scent of soapy sage wood and musk.

You blink, feeling how hot your face became. You sniff again, then let go of the shirt quickly; the fabric settles on your chest. How perverted you must seem right now! You close your eyes and frown as guilt begins to worm its way into your chest. Guilt for taking Griffin’s clothes, his room (even though he said he’s never used it), and guilt for leaving your fiancé all alone to cook and clean for himself. You open your eyes again and stare up. No, you knew it wasn’t guilt that made you think of your fiancé. It was fear, but you wished it was guilt. You silently wished that you could play the role of a good wife, like he said earlier. Your mother would have scolded you, should she be living in the same town. But your father? You smile softly, knowing he would probably knock the teeth out of your fiancé for ever hurting you.

You missed your parents terribly You knew moving to a larger city would be a challenge, especially for a single woman with no great status. You met with Johnathan, the son of your mother’s friend. He offered you a residence and food if you married him. And, of course, that sounded like a dream come true! And John was sweet, most of the time. But it didn’t sit right with you. Staying in that house and doing nothing all day except clean and cook and occasionally birth a child. You frowned again, looking away from the ceiling.

Then you met Griffin. The albino man who works with chemicals, solutions, poisons, and antidotes. He didn’t see you as a future housewife or mother, he saw you as an extra pair of hands that could be taught. You remember when you asked him why he allowed you to work with him. He looked over at you, still visible at the time. He had handsome features when his face wasn’t scrunched up in annoyance. Even despite his pale nature, he was beautiful. “You’re a capable human being with the same brain as a man. It’s ridiculous that some must be antagonized because of one’s gender. Women have gone to war, and hunted, why should I care…” He looked away and hummed. “You’re smarter than most men and women I’ve met anyway, I think that earns you a place as my research assistant, wouldn’t you agree?”

A smile graces your lips as you recall the memory. He’s been nothing but kind to you. He hasn’t yelled at you for breaking a vile, or sneered at you for cooking something he didn’t like. Though it’s rare to receive praise from the man, but you didn’t mind. He would speak up about something he didn’t like. One time you cooked a beef stew when it was cold out, and he ate two bowls worth. He left all the carrots inside the bowl however, then admitted that he hated carrots. So, you don’t cook with them anymore. Another time, you were cleaning the inside of a beaker, and he suggested a different way of cleaning and drying them, so your fingerprints didn’t stain the glass.

You sit up slowly and throw the blankets from your body. You decided you would go and drink a glass of water, hoping somehow that would help you sleep. Carefully you move across the floor and towards the door. Once you open it and peek outside, you spot Griffin’s door already open. You look towards the stairs, and you spot a faint light flickering below. Being careful not to make a sound, you head for the stairs and make your way down. In the lab, the light was brighter. A candle was lit and sitting on the counter, around the way was a headless and handless body. You watched for a moment as he moved, and you could notice when he turned his head by the way the collar of his shirt would bend.

You cross your arms and stand at the entranceway of the lab. “Griffin.” Your voice was soft but it didn’t stop him from jumping in surprise. His body turned towards you and he set down a book he was looking over. “I see you can’t sleep either.”

“Apologies if I disturbed your sleep.” He stretched his back then looked down at his desk. “I’ve discovered I can’t sleep without a blind on; my eyelids are invisible, so I see right through them. I’ve also discovered I don’t quite like sleeping with a blind on.” He sighed in annoyance. You took a seat across from him at the table.

“You didn’t disturb me. I suppose I couldn’t sleep with so many thoughts in my head. Worrying thoughts.” You look at the shirt, then let your eyes wander up to look at the invisible mass, where you know a pair of eyes are studying you. “I thought maybe a glass of water might help.”

A short ‘hmph’ sounded from his throat and he stood up. “I’ll join you. You know what they say really helps you to sleep? A glass of whiskey.” He walks to the kitchen with his candlestick leading the way. A smile forms on your lips and you tilt your head.

“You have whiskey? I didn’t know you indulged in that type of alcohol.” You follow him into the kitchen as you hear him mutter.

“I own one bottle of whiskey, a gift from an old friend. However, I also own a bottle of wine, also a gift. I only indulge when I think I’ve deserved some.” He opens a cabinet and takes out a beautiful-looking bottle of whiskey. “Or for a special occasion. Both don’t happen often.” He looks over the bottle, then looks at you. “Care for a taste?”

Your nose scrunched and you gave a nervous smile. “I’ve heard terrible things about whiskey. Like how disgusting it is…and how violent people become…” Your smile falters, and he notices. His thoughts carry to your fiancé’s drinking habits.

“I can assure you that it’s not the alcohol that makes you violent, it’s the person that acts upon it themselves.” He looks over the whiskey and then at you. “And I promise that one drink will not get you drunk.”

You weigh over the idea, knowing you’ve never had whiskey before but have heard a lot about it. “All right, I’ll try a little bit.” Griffin takes out two glasses and sets them down. He opens the whiskey, and you realize he’s never opened it before tonight. As he’s pouring, you ask, “Whiskey is a Scottish drink, correct?”

“Correct.” He closes the alcohol and puts it away. “The man that gifted it to me, traveled to Scotland himself and picked this up at a shop. He told me Scott’s drink as if the world is ending tomorrow.” As he handed you the glass of alcohol, he hummed and mumbled. “He warned me this stuff was strong.” He raises his glass, and you stare at him. He then reaches over to grab your hand holding your own glass, lifting it up as well, before tapping his glass against yours. “Cheers. Now you say cheers as well.”

A little laugh bubbles out of your throat and you grin. “Cheers.” You tap your glass against his and then watch as Griffin drinks his whiskey. The alcohol runs down his throat and you watch it disappear within his shirt. You then do the same, taking a drink of your whiskey as if it were water. A big mistake. You cough and cover your mouth, shaking your head. “Oh God what is that?” You could feel the whiskey literally burning your nose and throat. And somehow, it felt hot as it slid down.

You hear a mixture of coughing and laughter from across you. Griffin was covering his mouth with his sleeve, and he was doubled over. “I’m sorry, I guess I should have warned you…”

“It burns, is that normal?” You cough again and head to the sink for some water. “Am I allergic to this?”

Griffin chuckled again, a deep sound that you weren’t familiar with. You weren’t sure if it was the whiskey or him that sent goosebumps up your back. “That’s normal. I should have explained it better to you.” He finished the rest of his drink while you drank water from your cupped hand.

“How do people enjoy this? It tastes like poison, literal burning poison. At least I imagine that’s what it tastes like.” You turn the sink off and glare down at the cup of whiskey still sitting in your cup.

“It is poison. And many choose to drink it for different reasons. To get drunk, or to relax, to get tired. Or to slowly kill themselves. A bottle at a time.” He walks to the sink and places the cup down. “You don’t have to finish it if you don’t want to. But a tip for drinking any alcohol, except wine, is to drink it fast. Let it run straight down the throat. Wine is for flavor, this is not.”

You take in his words carefully. Licking your lips, you take the glass in your hands, quickly throw the drink back, and attempt to ‘let it run straight down.’ It does, however, still burn going down. And once again, it warms your throat and chest as you swallow it. You let out another cough and push the drink away once again. “I’m done…” You coughed again but Griffin could see a little smile on your face.  

            He took both glasses and set them down in the sink. You turn to try washing them, but Griffin stops you with a hand on your back. “No need for that tonight. Go back to bed and try getting some sleep.”

            You frown and stare at the clothes that float before you. “I’ll try, but…I’m still worried.”

            “About what?” He questions you, still standing beside you with his hand resting on your lower back.

            You sigh softly. “Well…what if we can’t find a cure for you? You’ll just be invisible forever? And what about my fiancé? What if he comes in the morning with the police, o-or he tries breaking in?”

            “There’s a cure for everything, even if we haven’t found it yet. It will take some time, is all. And I have plenty of time. As for your fiancé, I’m sure he’s fallen asleep in some drunken stupor…if he tries breaking in, I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.” You failed to notice the change in his voice when he admits this.

            You nod slowly, your eyes staring down at his shirt. His words helped only a little, and he seems to realize this. “It all feels like a massive burden on you, Griffin.”

            Warm, gentle hands touched your chin, lifting your face up so you looked up at the nothing that sat upon his shoulders. Once he had your eyes, he took your hands in his. “You’ve called yourself a burden twice now. I’ll not allow it a third time. You’ve done more good for me in this house than I’ve done for myself in years. I want no more talk of this, understand?” When you nod, he hums, and you think he nods back. “Good. Scientists like you and I shouldn’t doubt or worry. It’s not good for the brain.”

            A smile grows on your lips, and you tilt your head. “I’m a scientist now?”

            Griffin was quiet as he thought over his words, then he cleared his throat. “No, not yet. I could give you a test to see if you’re smart enough to be one. Not that you’d fail, I should have taught you everything I know by now.” He started mumbling. “Have I taught you everything? Perhaps I should have taken note…” His fingers were rubbing your hand, and you held back a giggle. You felt lighter and giddy. A little dizzy.

            “I’ll take any test you give me.” You grin. “I want to be a scientist.”

            “I can have that arranged.” He pauses before quickly letting go of your hands. He clears his throat once again. “You should go to bed now, I’m sure the alcohol is calming your system.”

            You give a small nod before walking to the stairs. You turn your head to the kitchen and smile softly. “Goodnight Griffin.” With that, you carefully climb the stairs and smile to yourself, finding the task to be funnier than it should be. And once you hit the bed, your mind seems to swim in bliss that wasn’t there before. Butterflies in your stomach and a head stuck in the clouds, it seemed. You think briefly that this was, in fact, the alcohol. Then you remember Griffin’s words and how he was holding your hand, and you let out another giggle followed by a yawn. Lulling you to sleep was the faint scent of his shirt, and when you finally slept, it felt like your body and mind were able to rest for the first time in forever.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

            He watches you leave the kitchen, knowing now that you were tipsy from one drink. It was too much, and he knew it; shame on you for almost wasting the small woman, he scolded himself. Once you are back in your room, he walks slowly to the lab and pauses. His mind kept wandering back to you. Your chin in his hand, how you looked up at him when there was nothing there. The soft touch of your hands in his. An invisible hand runs through invisible hair while Griffin lets out a deep sigh. What was happening to him? He was drunk, that’s the only logical answer. And with that logical answer, he knew he should go to his room and sleep.

            He walks upstairs, his eyes glancing at the door of your room. He walks inside his own room and shuts the door. Walking to bed, his mind wanders to his work, about his invisibility tests and blood samples. He’s yet to do a semen sample. His mind wanders for a moment, asking himself if it was appropriate to do such a thing after what just occurred. A grunt leaves his throat, and he gets up to find a clear test pallet. After laying down on the bed, he adjusts himself, imagining anything to arouse him. Using the long sleeve of his shirt, he covers his eyes to better imagine. He’s never had sex, but he’s witnessed it before, as well as read about it in a book that generously came with pictures. His pants become tighter, and he lets out a deep breath, palming himself.

            Griffin has done this before, plenty of times. He has needs like everyone else. But he usually never has the time to do so. He’ll imagine the photos from the books, combined with the sounds he’s heard from the couple that decided to fuck in the middle of a bar. His hand takes out his cock, slowly stroking it while his imagination played out. You appear in his head (almost immediately) and his hand slows to a stop, but he feels a shiver of delight run down his spine. This is sick, he thought to himself. You smiled at him, your legs straddling his hips while wearing his clothes. And then you had no pants on, sitting against his length bare. A shaky breath leaves his lips, and his grip tightens for a second.

            You said his name, in that soft voice you use on him. It drives him wild. How dare you use something so simple to enrapture him like this? His hand strokes faster as he imagines your eyes, staring up at him. When he lifted your chin, you’d look at him, and how your lips parted when you did. He groans and bites his lip. He imagines where he would take you. In his bed, of course. To have you lay down against his bed sheets, looking up at him with soft eyes, caused a moan to escape his throat. He wanted you in his tub as well, water be damned. He wanted to make a mess. Having you on top of him, riding his length while water splashed out of the sides. And he couldn’t begin to imagine the beautiful noises you’d make for him.

            His back arched and he groaned as he came, his hips bucking into his hand while his head tilted back in pleasure. He spilled across himself, panting as he tried calming down. He realized his first mistake; he didn’t use the damn pallet. His sample was all over his chest. His next mistake was the thoughts he just used to pleasure himself. You.

How perverted he must seem right now, he thought regrettably.

I posted part 4 of the Recom Miles x reader...can nobody see it? I'm not sure 😕

HE LEFT ME FLOWERS AT MY DOOR 😭😭😭

WHAT A FUCKING DORK 😭😭 AND HE WROTE ME A NOTE ON A CANE'S NAPKIN.

Hm👀

The Summoning - Sleep Token

Sl*t Him Out - Baby Tate

these are probably gonna be my song inspirations for next chapter of MilesxReader

So I thought I'd share this picture I drew of König at the beach where a bunch of kids keep asking him to throw them in the water because the man is huge. And I got this idea from a tiktok video but I cannot find them. It was basically if the whole 141 plus other COD characters had a beach day and how they'd act, and I think the first slides was about Soap finding seaweed and whipping people with it.

I drew this photo but the original idea is not mine. Please don't steal my drawing, I'm super proud of it.