Hello, What Outlast Trials Characters Do You Accept For Request?

Hello, what Outlast Trials characters do you accept for request?

hey! thanks so much for asking <3

Leland Coyle

Mother Gooseberry

Franco Barbi

The Skinner Man

Currently these are the ones I feel most comfortable with writing for, but in future I might consider answering requests about minor Ex-Pop characters like Beserkers and the such. Same goes for Dr Easterman!

thinking about wearing one of mauga’s shirts while he fucks you. your panties hanging off one of your ankles as you gasp, clinging to his broad shoulders as he slots his heavy cock between your thighs. he just couldn’t help himself, you look so fucking good wearing his clothes—👁️👁️

++ Akande curling his arm around your neck, sandwiching your cheeks between his bicep and forearm as his hips snap harshly against the fat of your ass, filling you in one smooth motion.

He’s murmuring into your neck - about how pretty and good you are for him, his voice deep and timbre - rumbling against your skin.

He likes you like this - pinned beneath his bulk, fucked so silly that you’re whining and drooling into his expensive silk sheets.

Akande could care less - not with the way the lingerie he’d bought you lay tattered around the room - and especially not with the way you clench so sweetly around his cock—

Doomfist who just doesn’t care mind flaunting his money for you, in fact he insists that you take his card with you wherever you go. He’s absolutely loaded and you couldn’t even make a dent in his pocket no matter what you spend.

He’s quite happy to spend it for you, if you’re a little unsure about taking his money. Akande will take you for decadent dinner dates and line your wardrobe with expensive clothes and fine lingerie - only for his eyes, of course.

He’ll never ask for anything back, but he’ll take his prize in the form of tearing whatever lingerie you’ve bought off with his teeth.

Could you do something for The trapper? Along the lines of getting caught in one of his traps in a game and he can't resist getting a good feel, it would be a waste to just be put on hook afterall!!

ily anon <3 cw for v slight mention of the trapper jerkin it, blood n gore and non consensual touching

You were his favourite.

You were keen and diligent, always glancing up and down to spot the glimpse of the metal jaws he'd primed in the greenery. You knew who he was - a hunter, tracking you through the dirty moss and bristling reeds in wait of your delicate ankles falling victim to his traps. Evan had waited so long to snatch you up, yet it seemed at every trials end you were disappearing into the fog - just out of arms reach.

This trial, however, felt different. Maybe the entity had finally heeded his requests in the bloodweb - his gnarled mask staring into the fire as he carelessly threw in another offering. Or rather, she'd heard his heavy grunts ringing out through the ironworks - Evan's breaths billowing out behind his mask in raspy moans that sounded suspiciously like your name.

Either way - his prize came forth in the form of a suspiciously easy trial - where he'd still yet to catch you. You'd tried your best in the end, unhooking your little friends every time Evan had strung them up like pigs to bleed, but it just wasn't enough. He seemed faster, stronger this round - cleaving through the other survivors like butter and leaving little old you all alone to find the hatch.

All it took was for one little misstep, the stress of your situation leaving you less alert than usual and allowing you the misfortune of stumbling right into the jagged metal of one of his traps. A shiver of dark delight fell over Evan once he heard your scream sound out into the cold air, why, you were only a few metres away, you sneaky little thing.

You claw at your ankle, hands slicked with blood as you try so desperately to pry the metal jaws away from your torn flesh. Your grip is made worse by the watery mud of the swamp, and it isn't long until you hear the thundering footsteps of the Trapper behind you, your heart hammering like a little hummingbird in your chest.

He's quick to splay a broad hand out on the small of your back, pushing you harshly into the mud so he can crane the trap off of your ankle. Evan can hear your pained whimpers, face buried into the crook of your arms as you wait for him to pick you up, or worse, mori you. Instead, the Trapper takes great satisfaction in moving his calloused hand underneath you, propping you up so he can rut himself against your back.

Evan practically growls against the back of your head, the gnarled carving of his mask jutting into your soft cheek. His breaths are thick and rugged as he reaches to palm your soft tits through the fabric of your top - your confused, indignant whimper only made it all the more delicious. He palms your hip in a deceptively soothing manner, his fat, heavy cock stiffening against the cleft of your ass.

But alas, the Entity hungers. The Trapper pulls away almost reluctantly, the Entity had gifted him greatly this trial - Evan would make sure to keep in her good graces for trials much like this in the future. You cry and squirm as he hoists you up, kicking against the broad wall that is his back when he stands straight, a hand kept firm on your ass in a very indiscreet manner. He growls, feeling his cock chubbed up against his boiler suit.

It's a damn shame to watch the Entity take you away, your body ascending into the sky as Evan observed, a pleased rumble reverberating through his chest. He continues to think about it long after the trial had ended.

When you pop back up at your shabby little campfire, confused and stammering as your survivor friends crowd you in attempts at comfort - Evan watches on from the treeline, palming at himself through his overalls. Now that the Entity had gifted him a taste of you - he only wanted more.

Poor sweet thing, you had no idea what was ahead of you now.

Hi there! I'm hopping on board with your requests, and am very politely asking if you would be willing to write some NSFW headcanons for Coyle? Please and thank you! ♡♡♡

hii ofc i can! <3 nsfw under da cut

"I'll have you on your knees..."

Coyle is very heavy on having firm control over you - as evidenced by the way he'll have you in any way he wants. A favourite of his though, is having you between his knees - baton pressed against your cheek and cock lodged deep down your throat. Sometimes he'll have his baton crackle to life and give himself a shock - combining the sensations and making you choke in surprise around his throbbing shaft.

He likes a bit of fire. Likes to watch you squirm while he fucks you - bent over one of the desks in the police station - paperwork strewn messily across the floor. He'll curl an elbow around your neck, grasping your chin and keeping you pinned in a headlock as he ruts his heavy cock into your sweet little hole, having you bite into the leather of his sleeve to ground yourself.

Likes it when you behave, but it makes his cock stiffen when you don't. Leland loves to think he's teaching you a very valuable lesson by catching you and fucking you into the tough marble floor - the slap of his pelvis against your ass loud enough to attract the attention of stray Ex-Pop nearby. But he makes sure they know just who's prisoner you are, huffing and growling into the crook of your neck as he grinds his cock in that particular motion that makes you sing like a caged canary.

After a long day, Coyle likes a long drag of a cigarette, a drink and a sweet little pussy for him to bury his face into. His beard is scratchy against your inner thighs - tickling the plush flesh as he drags his heavy tongue through your folds, not hesitating to plunge back into your sweet little hole. He'll hold your thighs open and eat you up until he's had his fix, giving a pleased and appreciative grunt every time you come undone in his mouth.

Gives you a little spark from the baton once in a while - not enough to fry you - but certainly enough to get you to squeal. He's not nice about it either, rather more pleased with himself as he grips his belt, his hand coming down to grope his hardening cock through his trousers. Sometimes he'll swoop in right after for a rough kiss, his beard scraping your cheeks as his hand comes to cup your jaw.

Coyle will handcuff those pretty wrists behind your back and have you ride him until the cows home home - or, at least until you're whining and drooling at him to fuck you proper, which he's all too happy to deliver on. Pinning you down, his chest pressed against your back - his gear digging into you as he stretches your pretty little hole open. Growling about how he'd rehabilitate you - or better yet, keep you caged up - just for him, and him only.

"Oh, sweetness." >>>

++ And if you finally give the big guy a chance, letting him sink his monstrously big cock into your pretty little cunt - he’s not letting you get away any time soon.

He lets you take the pace, at first. Reinhardt knows he’s big and he doesn’t want to hurt you. Your knees are on either side of his broad thighs, whimpering as you lower yourself down onto his fat cock inch by inch. He shudders with delight, his thick fingers gripping onto the plush flesh of your hips.

He gets a little bit too excited once you’re fully settled, twitching and pulsing rivulets of pre inside of your sweet pussy. Groaning, he bucks his pelvis up wildly, hitting deeper than you thought was possible. You practically collapse onto his scarred chest, fucked silly.

Reinhardt looks down at you with stars shining in his eyes - finally having got you exactly where you should be, and he can’t wait to fill you up.

Reinhardt who follows behind you like a guard dog, always at your heels like an oversized puppy. You’re happy to indulge him, finding it sweet - you even curl your hand up to card your fingers through his beard - and he practically purrs in delight.

It’s different for others though, who have to deal with your ‘guard dog.’ You’re oblivious as to why some of the agents you’ve flirted with soon turn tail and run with a horrified expression on their faces, only to turn around to find Reinhardt shrugging with the same confused expression you had.

They’re terrified of you and you have no idea why. Not even when you see the way Reinhardt’s hands curl around a gigantic mug of beer and make it seem miniature, not even when he sits in a chair and it practically groans under his weight, not even when he has to duck and squeeze through a doorway.

Especially not even when you (don’t) see him looming behind you, scaring off any potential suitors with a steely glare and a creaking grip on his hammer.

He’s just being friendly, after all.