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yanderenightmare · 6 months

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Bakugou Katsuki

TW: NSFW, noncon/dubcon, kidnapping, captive darling, gross Bakugou

fem reader

Thinking about hermit forest-dweller Bakugou who lives alone in his lodge…

You got a little lost off the beaten track and were so relieved when you happened upon his homey red-wood cabin, spotting smoke from the chimney and feeling your stomach gurgle from the promise of warm food when knocking on his door.

You’re so terribly sorry to bother him – but your phone has no cell reception, and the map you brought with you had gone pasty and torn in the rain and you have just no idea where you are or how to get back.

He’s rather handsome for a loner, you think. Rough around the edges – hairy and reeking of beer and barnacles. He grunts out a “come in” after you’ve explained yourself, and you follow with a relieved smile, already thanking him.

But only a short second after you’ve taken a step over the threshold comes a hard cack to the back of your head. And for a cloudy moment, you’re something akin to numb all over – only barely registering the harsh feeling of splintery wooden floors against your cheek where you’d fallen to – slowly succumbing to the darkness that forced your eyes to glide close – but not before you could recognize and curl your brows to the big pair of black mountain boots in front of you.

When you wake up, you’re in a bed. It’s a welcomed softness – a warm pleasantness against your wintered skin after you’d wandered aimlessly around in the cold rain – now getting toasty from the heat of the fireplace.

But there’s something more – something not right.

You’re not wearing any clothes. And your hands have been roped behind your back in a strict knot, keeping them locked tightly together.

And you’re being rocked against the sheets – back and forth, back and forth – and you can barely breathe because of it.

And there’s something on top of you – and something fat and wet stuffing your cunt from the back, fucking your taut hole while your eyes flutter with sleep and the start of a pounding headache.

You try screaming when it dawns on you – try twisting your arms free – try getting up, but your mouth has been filled with what you think is your underwear and only muffled cries manage to escape it.

He gruffs out something like, “Quiet, whore.” Planting a harsh slap against your ass while keeping his rhythm steady, thrusting his thickness inside the wet welcome of your quivering little cunt as it seeps with slick for him, soaking him so sweetly it’s even trickling down your thighs in slim lines.

You cry, feeling the stranger touch and fuck you, his heavy hands gritty from work groping the soft fat of your ass while his booted feet kick yours further apart once you try pulling them closed – punishing you with another mean slap to your plush.

The ache in your belly tells you he’s been at it for a while. Having fucked your tightness sore with his girthy meat – shoving it so hard it bends in order to fit all of him inside. His heavy-hung balls swing beneath him, clapping with wet slaps against your budding clit – making your cunt squeeze and suckle him despite your efforts to ignore it.

He groans at the feel before thrusting in all the way to the hilt in one harsh jab – spewing his gross warmth right into your womb.

You’re shell-shocked. Eyes terror-wide, drying as you stare into nothing – waiting for it to make sense – but it doesn’t. A stranger had just spunked inside you and you can feel the warm fatty liquid trickle down your cunt and thighs once he pulls his chubby member out.

“S’been a while since I had my balls emptied like that. Good puss’ milked me dry.” He grumbles with satisfaction, lifting his pants from the pool around his boots and buckling himself back up – giving your puffy cunt a wet slap before he’d quite simply just walked off and gone about the rest of his day – returning to use you later.

From then on, you wear nothing but an old red flannel shirt – it smells of man sweat and other things and is so well-worn all the buttons are gone. The clothes you came in were used as easy firewood. He’d burned it all – every article in your backpack except one – the panties you’d worn – which he instead nailed to the wall like it was another pelt or the head of an animal he’d hunted down.

He keeps you on the floor most of the time. You’re leashed with a fat metal chain meant for a rottweiler – and a leather collar kept snug around your throat with a lock and a tag that reads Pup. He must’ve had a dog at some point, but you’re guessing it died – and you’re its replacement – and whether you want it or not, he’s going to train you into being his proper bitch.

During morning news, you take care of his morning wood – sometimes with your cunt and sometimes with your mouth. He’s still cuddly after waking up, needy for warmth, wanting you skin-to-skin – mostly seating you down on his lap, bouncing you lightly on his cock with his chin resting in the grove between your neck and shoulder. Groaning tiredly while pawing your tits.

If he doesn’t blow his load before the news is over, he’ll bring you with him in the shower. And in the steamy heat, he’ll wake up to give you a real pounding. Your face mushed against the tiles – chin and cheekbone bruising from the force of it while he holds your arms behind your back and rams up into your cunt faster than the droplets fall to the floor. Quick juts until finally creaming inside you, resting his forehead between your shoulder blades while dumping every last drop in deep.

After a long day, he likes when you suck his balls while he drinks his beer and eats his dinner, watching sports. Licking the sweat off the back of his cock, no doubt tasting the dried piss from when he’d taken a leak in the forest. Sometimes he’ll say it. “Suck it clean, slut- be happy I didn’t take a shit, or you’d be tonguin’ my ass with that pretty face too.” Always threatening you with something gross that’ll kick you into the right gear – motivating you to be his little cock-eager whore – down there on your knees with your hands bracing against his thighs, throating his length while he holds a firm hand at the back of your head, fisting your hair so tight strands rip free from their roots while you desperately try and will away your gag reflex in order to please him – eyes squeezed tight with slobber making spit bubbles down your chin.

You’re not allowed dinner before swallowing his load. Dinner – being the leftovers he’ll scrape off his plate into a dog bowl. The first time around, you’d looked up at him like he couldn’t be serious, and he’d only squeezed your face rough and said, “Be happy I don’t piss in it, slut.” And then he’d spat on you, once on your face, then once more in your mouth. It was thick and tasted of brown nicotine and ash and you haven't gotten rid of the taste since.

He’ll throw his feet up on your back while you bow down to eat out of your bowl – using you like a warm footstool until the game is done. If his team wins, he fucks your cunt like usual – but if they lose, it’s your assthat’ll pay the price.

When you’re allowed on the couch, he likes sitting opposites so you can take his muddy boots off and massage his feet. They’re still clammy with sweat from work when you peel his woolen socks off. Chipped dry toenails and scaley callouses, the skin yellow and cracked and rough where you dig your fingers in.

He’ll take his cock out after a while and gather your smaller, softer feet around it – rubbing himself through them while you keep rubbing his soles. When you’re busy with one, the other rests heavily on your tit, pawing it. Sometimes, he’ll even bark at you to suck on the toes.

But it's only until the news is over. After that, he has you crawl over to rest on his chest, nose stuffed with the musk of sweat, wood oil, and leather while he sinks his fat erection all the way up into your womb – storing it there, where it will stay nestled and warm while you watch a western or hunter’s documentary.

He’s hairy like a bear and it makes you feel extra naked. Feeling it tickle your soft skin while he rests an arm on your back – a hand absentmindedly twiddling with your pretty hair.

When he’s not outside cutting down trees and hunting or inside on the couch with a beer, he’s in the meat locker – skinning animals and sectioning flesh. He often fucks you in there. Bent over the cold metal slab, your face in the stags' blood while he growls at your ear how that’ll be you on one of them hooks if you don’t squeeze his cock harder.

But he’s not always so mean.

He’s nicer to you when you act cute for him. When you lie belly-up, raising your thighs and keeping them spread wide for him – covering your gash with your hand while you work it into a nice glossy welcome, wet and ready to get fucked like a little breeding cow. Pretty words on your pretty lip while you beg him with pretty pleas, asking him to stuff you like one of those animals he’s mounted on the wall.

Rich city sluts like you need to be taught you can’t fuck around in his forest without paying your dues. And you’ve learned your lesson – riding him like he’s a mechanical bull from the rodeo like a good tramp should – jumping on his fat shaft with your perky tits bouncing in his face.

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notquitecanon · 3 months

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Call Me... // Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You're the Devil of Hell's Kitchen's favorite late night nurse, but he's been avoiding your fire escape since an unfortunate accident. You both miss each other just enough for some emotions to slip through the cracks. You don't even know his name, but you'll settle just to know he's alright.

TW: blood, canon typical injuries, kind of hurt comfort, Matt's a self sabotaging martyr as usual, kinda sunshine!reader??? maybe if you squint

Bolded line is from a prompts list from several months ago so I lost the link. If it's yours let me know and I'll link it!

"I haven’t seen you in weeks… I’m worried you’re in another dumpster somewhere. Just call me back…please?" You whispered harshly into the phone’s receiver, burner cell jammed between your ear and shoulder as you fumbled with your keys.

It was true. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen hadn’t graced your apartment in weeks after three months of near nightly visits. At first it was serious stuff, stab wounds and splinted bones. It took two weeks for him to crack a joke. But once that stone cold exterior cracked, it was shattered. He was kind, sweet even. Every few visits, he’d bring by supplies to replenish your kit and, usually, with a bottle of wine in the bag. Emergencies turned to what he called ‘urgencies’- wounds just barely deep enough to justify stitches and dislocated joints. Which then turned into stopping by at the end of his nights for a ‘check up’, where he took advantage of your central heating, warm beverages, and warmer presence. Then, some Yakuza jackass appeared on your doorstep three weeks ago, fortunately your devil hadn’t been far behind. He took care of him, and you figured the thug, now minus fifteen teeth, would have a hard time telling anyone where to find you. Nevertheless, you found the ‘available apartments’ section of the newspaper taped to your seventh floor window. That had been the last night ’the devil’ had paid you a visit.

"Anyways… I guess I'm asking for a sign of life? Something? Please? Bye." You pleaded, voice kinder this time as you managed to finally unlock the door and slip inside. Locking the knob, deadbolt, chain, and newly installed jam that had been mysteriously delivered not too long ago. With a huff, you discarded your keys, and bag in the entry way before delving deeper into your dark apartment, flicking lights on as you went.

"You really need to start locking your windows." A deep voice sounded as you rounded the corned into your living room. Heart jumping to your throat and stomach dropping, you let out a yelp as instinct took over. The familiarity of the voice didn’t register as adrenaline flooded your system.

"SHIT!" You shrieked, flinching backwards so fast that the hallway runner rug caught under your feet, sending you careening into the wall. Without thinking, you put the Yankee’s starting pitcher to shame as you pitched your phone at light speed towards the voice. Of course, the shadow effortlessly caught it.

"Shit!" The intruder mirrored at your fall, and it was then that you realized who it was. As you collected yourself a slew of curses slipped out, looking into the dim living room to find the Devil of Hell’s kitchen slowly rising off the couch, he was already sans black shirt and mask, "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you."

"Yeah, well, mission failed." You muttered, pressing a hand to your chest as if that would still your pounding heart. Slowly, you finished your shuffled into the living room, flicking on the overheads as you went. "Shit, you could have called. Sit back down."

You could have used the heads up, the gash across his chest looked serious, and not in the cute excuse to see each other way ’serious’ had meant last month. He breathed a sarcastic laugh, tossing your phone back to you before producing a shattered burner cell with a… bullet hole?

"You have a funny way of saving my skin when I least expect it." He tried a cheeky smile. You rolled your eyes, picking up your pace as you retrieved your first aid kit from under your kitchen sink, "Consider this a sign of life?"

"A sign of barely alive, more like." You answered, rounding back around the couch to sit across from him. Harshly pulling on a pair of rubber gloves and splaying out an array of supplies both his lap and yours. "You’re unbelievable. Almost a month of no contact and then you just appear and leak blood on my couch."

"I’m sorry." He breathed, face angled to where your knees now touched. You rolled your eyes, ripping into a packet of gauze and setting to work dabbing the blood. And he sounded sorry, pitiful even, looked it to. His unseeing eyes stared straight past you and yet somehow straight through you at the same time, mouth settled in a puppy like frown. He told you once that he was catholic, and you now wandered if that’s why he was so good at looking guilty.

"If it wasn’t for the newspapers, I would have thought you were dead." You drove your point home, with a small voice, too angry to be a whisper and yet too concerned to be a hiss. The evidence of his activities was written across his bare torso in older cuts, new and fading bruises, and a couple of bandages that he’d obviously applied himself, "And you’ve obviously been busy."

"Figured out how the Yakuza found you. Handled it. Didn’t want to lead anyone else back here." His explanation was strained, pushed through gritted teeth as you applied antiseptic to the largest, freshest gash. You cooed small apologies, irritated as you were with the vigilante, you hated being the source of his pain. You picked up a suture kit, quickly threading the needle.

"Well, as far as excuses go, that’s not the worst." You muttered, half joking and half touched he’d go through this for you. You’d known he was a walking martyr from the moment you’d met him, but still. He’d taken the beatings so you’d sleep safe.

That was something else, "Lean back, gotta stitch you up."

He complied as you stood, using your shoulder to nudge the floor lamp so the light was better for you. Even then, you position on the coffee table wasn't cutting it as leaning forward cast a shadow over his chest. Neither was kneeling in front of him, as the gash was too far up his chest for your position to be adequate. You muttered a quick apology as you flitted around him, trying to find the best place to plant yourself. Beside him on the couch might work, but you’d be straining to hold yourself up at that angle and keep your hands steady.

Bloody-knuckled hands found your waist with amazing precision for a blind man, easily lifting you and placing you over one thigh after he spread his legs a bit wider. He held you steady, angling his eyes to the ceiling to give you the broadest view of his chest. One of your knees pressed into the couch cushion between his legs and the other pressed into the outside of his thigh, caging the his black-clad thigh between your own like a seat. If your weight bothered him, he gave no indication. He did however turn his ear ever so slightly towards you and smirk ever so devilishly, "How’s that?"

"Very convenient, thanks." You forced your voice to be flat instead of the breathlessness you felt. Stupid charming vigilante. To his credit, it gave you the perfect access without blocking the light. And if you got to feel ever twitch of his insanely muscular thigh between yours? Added benefit. The devil, even bruised and bleeding, was insanely warm and smelled like something out of a terribly sinful romance novel. The manly small of musk and sweat should have been revolting, but the way it mixed with a fading aftershave would have been distracting if you weren’t so focused on the drip of crimson down his toned abdomen. Before your train of thought could derail again, you gave a quiet warning watching your patient steel himself before you began running the needle and thread through the torn skin. Other than an initial hiss and the clenching of his fists against your waist, he went silent as you worked.

The two of you sat in an almost tense silence. He could feel how close your face was to his chest, the waves of breaths washing over his skin, the smell of shampoo in your hair faint enough to know you’d put off washing it, the sound of your heartbeat slowing back down after he’d gotten you excited, the slight sound of your teeth worrying the inside of your lip. He knew he shouldn't be here, Claire could have patched him up, probably would have if he asked really nicely. He probably could have if he really tried, but he’d just missed you. Between Fisk and the Hand and the law firm… everything was messy. You were still simple and sweet and far more caring than he thought he deserved, a balm just to be near you.

"Could you talk to me?" He asked, so quietly you almost missed it in your focus. You tied off another knot, seeing him wince.

"Hmm?" You hummed, pausing to look up from the half stitched wound. His eyes lowered to your face, his clenched hands at your waist loosening to rub the fabric of your shirt between his fingers. You always wore such soft things, he wondered if you’d be so soft underneath. You took opportunity in the pause to wipe some of the blood from his skin.

"I’ve missed your voice, even if you want to yell at me or be upset with me, just let me hear it." His voice was like a prayer, so sincere it made you shift on his leg. What was in the holy water at his church?

"I’m not going to yell at you, honey. I’m not going to kick a man when he’s stabbed." You shook your head, rearranging yourself to get that optimal view again, grazing a gloved finger over a purple bruise on his ribs, "Besides, someone beat me to it."

He chuckled at the lame joke, leaning his head back against the back of the couch again as you began stitching once more. Instead of scolding him, you caught him up on all the details and minor drama that he’d missed over the last few weeks. The funny things and annoyances from work, things your family had sent you, what your friends had been up to, your opinion on current happenings in the city. He listened to you like it was the most interesting thing he’d heard all year, chiming in with questions and quips of his own. You’d missed his voice too, not that you’d boost his ego by telling him that.

"There." You finally finished, tying the last stitch and taping a bandage over it. The vigilante under you didn’t make a move to leave, instead his hands kept you still on his lap. You breathed a laugh, moving on to everything else. You removed the old bandages, giving half healed wounds a thorough cleaning. You applied comical Disney bandaids to the more minor cuts on his hands and were even brazen enough to kiss his split knuckles. The vigilante seemed to preen under you attention as you cleaned and applied Vaseline to his busted lip. As if it was too good to be true, his lip twitched downwards as his eye brows furrowed. His face angled away from yours, his unseeing eyes falling on the window he’d come through.

"You know, the burner phone's been broken for two weeks now. Took the bullet not too long after the yakuza paid you a visit. Couldn't bring myself to throw it away, a little piece of you." He admitted, a pitiful smile twitched up before pulling downward again. He groaned, starting to shift you off his lap, “I shouldn’t be here, it’s not right.”

You allowed yourself to fall to the cushion beside him, but snatched the black shirt away from him before he could make a move for it. He’d been too busy letting his hands linger on your waist.

“Why not?” You asked sternly, tucking the shirt behind your back as if the vigilante in front of you couldn't probably drop you six ways to Tuesday if he wanted to. Not that he could ever consider raising a hand to you, “You got hurt, I patch you up. Seems right to me.”

The devil tensed, first leaning away and then leaning really close. His freshly bandaged fingers tapped your knee as if to emphasize his point, “I don’t deserve this kindness. And even if I did, if I could, if I was good, I would stop coming here so you could live in peace.”

You were a silent for a moment, wanting to make sure your response was exactly how you wanted it to come across.

“The third time you fell through my window, you told me that if I ever wanted to be left alone, all I’d need to do was change the candle I keep by the window.” You recounted his words. You hadn’t known about his senses at the time, he was still cryptic and mysterious. But you’d never changed the candle, buying new ones of the same scent when it would burn out, “You warned me what might happen. You gave me an out, one that I continuously chose to ignore. You did everything in your power to protect me when that choice had consequences. That was good, because you are good. And good people deserve kindness. You put too much on yourself, honey.”

As you spoke, you laid your hand over his on your knee, giving it a slight squeeze to convey your own point. The crimefighter listened to your voice, your heartbeat, the quickness of your breath, finding no deceit and even if he didn’t believe you words, it was nice to hear them. Your kindness washed over him, letting him relax for just a second before he shook his head, laughing sarcastically to deflect the dangerously sappy emotions you stirred. You called him honey like it was his name, and part of him wondered that if you knew his name if you would still call him honey.

“You barely know me, sweetheart.”

His own nickname slipped out by accident, usually just something he called you in his head when he allowed fantasies about telling you everything, coming home to you as the vigilante and the lawyer, seeing just how far your good grace could take him. His lips quirked up in time with the uptick of your pulse and the way your breath caught for a moment.

“I know enough to know you deserve some good.” You whispered earnestly, reaching up to graze the Star Wars bandaid you’d stuck across his the cut on his cheekbone. Almost instinctively, he leaned into the touch. You smiled softly, maybe you’d both missed each other a bit. The combined concern for the other and the time between his last visit making you both a little sappy, or at least more honest about it, So, you breathed a laugh, making another lame joke just to earn one of those chuckles you loved so much, “Besides, I know you well enough to have your blood on my hands.”

But he didn’t laugh, instead, he pulled his face from your palm, his own bandaged hands taking your bloodied gloved hands in his own. Gently, he pressed your hands together, your loose fists creating almost heart like shape as he pressed reverent kisses to each bloody hand. The vigilante was kind always, flirty and joking, occasionally flirtations bordering on something else. But this? This was different, it was new. Intimate. You’d almost feel like a voyeur for watching the scene if it you weren’t playing a starring role. Your mind flashed to those romance novels you’d thought of earlier, this put all of them to shame. So much so that your hands started trembling against his lips.

He held them tighter, but not in a constrictive, cage like way. More in a ‘let me hold you together’ kind of way before gently peeling the dirty gloves off and, again, kissing your clean hands underneath. His face angled to yours, nothing but sincerity lacing his features.

"You know my blood better than my own heart does.”

“God…” You whispered, letting your head fall against his shoulder, your nose nudging his collarbone and your eye lashes fluttering against his neck. His stubbled cheek fell to the crown of your head. You cleared your throat again, "I know your blood, but not your name. For someone I care so much about, that’s kind of sad.”

It was the first time you’d ever admitted it out loud in such certain words. The vigilante ran gentle hands up and down your arms, silent as a million thoughts went through his head. You heart was racing, not from lying, but in anticipation. Despite your racing pulse, you seemed almost totally at ease with you skin against his, one of your hands pressed to a bandage on his ribs and the other holding purchase at the waistline of his black pants. Nothing sexual, just the perfect place for your soft hand to land.

Despite the million thoughts, he really had two options. Keep his secret, and keep you at an arms length, to keep things sweet and simple and not too deep. Or. Let you in a little deeper, he'd swim oceans to keep you afloat. Enjoy your sweetness, even if things were complicated. He kept still, holding you as gently as you had touched him, a promise to himself that he could be gentle and soft, just as he could be lethal and ruthless. Two sides of a balanced scale.

Your heart had slowed down again, the soothing motion of his hands on your arm lulling you. You had been worried about his response. You’re confession had gotten too real, you were worried he’d jump out the window and disappear again. And you’d be left with nothing but bloody gloves and the thought that maybe you’d just imagined the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

"Matt.” His voice was quiet, just barely above a whisper, “You can call me Matt. Just don’t stop calling me."

#matt murdock x reader #Daredevil x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil x you #daredevil x female reader #matt murdock x y/n

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yanderestarangel · 5 months

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DUMB MIDNIGHT THOUGHTS - JOHNNY CAGE MK1

NIGHT 4: V!SEX, DEGRADATION.

TW: dirty talk, pussy talk, afab reader, degradation, just a short smut.

You decided to wear something more provocative that night, a short baby blue silk dress that showed the cleavage of your breasts, the construction of the dress was short, giving the feeling that any false step would show you your beautiful ass, in addition to the pantyhose that you wore to make yourself even sexier, and all for a reason: Johnny Cage, your movie actor boyfriend, he asked you to go to an awards show with him so, you thought it was a good idea to tease him a little bit.

You had the perfect makeup, expensive perfume and everything sponsored by him, so he soon saw you leave the apartment, while he practically dropped the cell phone from his hand, his lower lip trembling with desire and the erection quickly evident in the expensive suit from him.

You smiled through the glossy gloss on his lips, as you walked towards him sensually, he knew you were teasing him, and he was loving it.

"-Damn baby, I can't believe you managed to get more beautiful" Johnny said laughing while squeezing your ass hard, not caring if you were still on the sidewalk, you soon felt his fingers go through your lace panties, teasing the soft flesh of your pussy as he massaged your clit lightly

"-Hmm... Those panties make your pussy fat... and I loved that shit" Cage says laughing while his lower lip was still trembling, quickly throwing you inside his black smoked glass sports car, locking the door while. He quickly pulled back your lace panties, exposing the juices glistening hole of your pussy as he quickly fingered the way, making you arch the back of the leather seat chilled by the air conditioning as he grinned cocky at you.

"-So good to me, so wet and receptive, did you really think I wouldn't notice you dressed like that? a pretty slut, dressing like that just to tease me, didn't you (Y/N)? because now you got my attention, you needy slut."

Johnny soon took his rough fingers out of your cunt, making a delicious wet sound as he quickly drew his cock into your eager cunt.

"-Yes kitten, I'm going to fuck you today, as hard as I can, until you're so shaky you can barely walk."

He groaned at the sensation, relishing in the way you fit so perfectly."-Fuck, you're so tight" He grunted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. With one hand still firmly on your waist, he reached up with the other to fondle your breasts, tweaking your nipples between his fingers - Cage wanted to make you feel every sensation, to ensure that you were completely under his control. "-Squeeze me tight, baby... " He commanded, his tone devious yet commanding.

His grip on your arms tightened, his thrusts becoming even more relentless. Johnny could feel his own climax building, the tension mounting to an almost unbearable level. "-Such a good little slut, taking my cock like the obedient toy you are."

He brought his hand to your cheek, caressing it softly before delivering a sharp slap against your flushed skin. "-You're such a filthy, needy little slut. You want my cum, don't you? You want to be filled with me, marked by me." He groaned, his voice deep and guttural, as he emptied himself inside you, the warmth of his cum filling your depths.

"-Such a good little slut... You know how to please daddy johnny, don't you?"

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 2 months

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I Got You » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend/Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader with Steve Rogers/Captain America, Sam Wilson/Falcon, and Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow

Summary: Y/N gets kidnapped by HYDRA and Bucky saves her.

Warnings: Fluff, language, HYDRA, kidnapping, blood and bruises, crying, hugs and kisses, cuddling, Bucky being the best/protective boyfriend ever, use of pet names

A/N: This is based off a dream I had.

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

Bucky was pacing back and forth in the lounge room of the Avengers Compound, wondering why you are there yet. You told him that you would hangout at the Compound while he trains for an upcoming mission.

“What’s wrong with you?” Sam asks, walking in the room.

“I’m worried about Y/N.” Bucky says.

“Did something happen to her?” Sam asks.

“I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” Bucky says, running his fingers through his hair.

Natasha walks in the lounge room with a phone in her hand.

“Barnes, someone’s on the phone for you.” Natasha says, handing him the phone.

Bucky furrows his eyebrows, taking the phone from her. If it’s you, you would’ve called his phone.

“Hello?” Bucky answers.

“Didn’t take long to get ahold of you, Winter Soldier.” The man says in a Russian accent.

“What the hell do you want?” Bucky asks.

“It’s more like who I have.” The man chuckles. “Meaning, your precious doll.” He says.

Bucky felt his heart drop and his mind started racing. He began thinking the worst.

“I swear if you do anything to her. I’ll-” Bucky got interrupted.

“You’ll what, Soldat? Kill me? That wouldn’t do you any good if you want to find your best girl alive.” The man says and hung up.

Bucky stood there frozen as the line went dead. His blood began to boil. He shoved the phone in Natasha’s hand and went to find Steve. Sam and Natasha looked at each other in confusion before following Bucky.

“Steve, get your shield.” Bucky says, walking in the conference room.

“Why?” Steve asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Barnes, what’s wrong? Who was on the phone?” Natasha asks.

“HYDRA. They have Y/N.” He tells them.

“What did he say?” Sam asks.

“That they have Y/N and that’s it.” He explained. “I really need to find her.” He says, tears brimming his eyes.

“We’ll find her, Buck.” Steve says softly, putting a comforting hand on his best friend’s shoulder.

Meanwhile, you woke up to the feeling of your head pounding. You moved to get up, only to find out that you were strapped down to a chair, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“I was wondering when you would going to wake up. I was beginning to think that one of my men struck you too hard and killed you.” A man’s voice said.

You looked up, seeing a bunch of people surround you.

“My name is-” You interrupted him.

“I don’t care what your fucking name is. Where the hell am I?” You asked.

You yelped when his hand smacked you across your face, hard enough to make your head turn. He gripped your jaw roughly and looked in your eyes.

“It’s rude to interrupt people when they’re talking.” He says.

He let go of your jaw and walked away for a moment before watching back towards you.

“Now, you know someone we want back.” He says.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” You lied, knowing that he’s talking about Bucky.

“Really? The name James Buchanan Barnes doesn’t sound familiar to you?” He asks.

“No.” You lied again.

“Liar!” He shouts, smacking you again causing you to whimper in pain. “You know who he is cause you’re wearing his Army dog tags!” He yells. “Where is he?” He asks.

“Fuck you!” You shouted. “He’d never come back to this hell hole!” You say.

The man chuckled before turning to two of his men.

“Take her to a cell.” He tells them.

They nodded and uncuffed you from the chair, carrying you down the hallway. You tried your best to fight them off, but their grip on you was too strong. The more you fought them, the tighter their grip got. When they got you to a cell, they threw you in there. You fell to the floor and hit your head causing you to whimper in pain. You put a hand on the spot where you hit your head, feeling a little bit of blood trickling into your hand. You sat against the wall in the corner of the cell, pulling your knees up against your chest and wrapped your arms around them.

“Bucky, where are you? Please hurry.” You say to yourself, tears rolling down your cheeks.

Meanwhile, Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Natasha were on their way to you. Bucky tugging at his hair and was pacing back and forth in the quinjet, feeling like he was losing his mind. Bucky’s mind immediately started thinking the worst.

“Buck…” Steve snaps Bucky out of his thoughts. “We’re going to find her.” He says.

“What if we don’t? It’ll be my fault for not saving her.” Bucky says.

“None of this is your fault and you know it. Y/N knows it too.” He says softly, putting a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“I can’t lose her, Steve. She’s the love of my life. I won’t survive without her.” He tells his best friend with tears in his eyes.

Steve gave Bucky a hug.

“I’m sorry to break up your moment, but we’re at the base.” Sam informs the Super Soldiers. “Are you ok, man?” He asks Bucky.

“I will be when I get the love of my life back.” Bucky says.

Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Natasha got off of the quinjet and cautiously approached the base, finding an unlocked door. They went inside of the base and split up so they could find you. You jumped at the sound of an alarm and gunshots. You stayed in the corner of the room, continuing to hug your knees. The next thing you knew, the door was kicked down causing you to cover your head in fear and your heartbeat to pick up. Bucky carefully approached you, making sure to not scare you.

“Doll, it’s Bucky.” Bucky says softly.

You uncovered your head and looked up, seeing your boyfriend. You immediately stood up and hugged him, breaking down into tears. Bucky held you tightly in his arms, tears escaping his eyes.

“You’re ok. I got you, babydoll.” He whispers.

He pulled away from the hug to kiss you passionately. Bucky felt relieved, knowing that you’re ok.

“I’m so happy that you’re alive.” Bucky says in almost a whisper, looking deep in your eyes.

He kissed you once more before informing Steve, Sam, and Natasha that he found you and you’re alive and safe. He picked you up bridal style and carried you to the quinjet, taking you to the Compound. Bucky helped you get cleaned up and patched you up, kissing each one of your injuries. Luckily you sustained minor injuries. Bucky has not left your side in the past few days. He helped you through a nightmare when you woke up crying. He held you close to him and you guys watched movies to get your mind off of everything. He even made coffee for you in the morning.

“How’s Y/N doing?” Steve asks Bucky.

“Last night, she had a nightmare and woke up crying.” Bucky tells them.

“She’s going to get through this, Bucky.” Natasha says, putting a comforting hand on his right arm.

“We’re here for her if she needs anything.” Sam says.

“Thanks, guys.” Bucky smiles at them.

Everyone went quiet when you walked in the kitchen. You smiled softly at them, playing with one of the sleeves of your -Bucky’s- sweatshirt.

“You ok, doll?” Bucky asks, handing you your coffee and wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m fine. I just got lonely.” You say, taking a sip of your coffee.

Bucky held you close to him and kissed the top of your head.

“I wanted to tell you guys thank you for helping Bucky save me.” You say.

“We’d do it again.” Steve says with a smile.

“We’re here for you, Y/N.” Natasha says.

“We’re just happy that you’re ok.” Sam says.

You gave them a smile. They left the kitchen, giving you and Bucky time alone.

“Thank you for saving me, Bucky.” You say, looking up at him.

“You don’t have to thank me, doll. I will save you no matter what.” Bucky says softly with a smile.

Bucky took your coffee from your hands and put it on the counter. He cupped your cheeks and kissed you passionately. Bucky is so happy to have his best girl back. He’s going to do everything he can to protect you. One thing’s for sure, he’s never letting you out of his sight again.

“I love you so much, doll.” Bucky says softly, moving a piece of your hair from your face.

“I love you more, Buck.” You say in almost a whisper, looking in his beautiful blue eyes.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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s-4pphics · 1 month

Text

mourn. intro. (e.w.)

INTRO.

WORD COUNT: 4.1k

WARNINGS: streetracer!ellie, dealer!oc, backstory lemme cook, parental death, mentions of overdoses, funeral, baby ellie :), oc intro… cackles evilly

A/N: last post til eid lol

pay zakat. feed a family this ramadan. k!ll zios.

SEPTEMBER, 2009

ANGUISH floods Ellie’s chest as she witnesses decorative rosewood being lowered into the sopping dirt. It’s cinematic; watching herself from a bird’s eye view, floating above her own body. Her brain cranks at an alarming rate. Churning in attempts to convince her that she’s not actually here, staring dead at her mother’s casket. The grass sludges beneath her shoes with every unsteady shuffle of her feet.

There aren't many people around. Three of her mother’s former work friends, a service dog, and the officiant. They’re hardly acknowledging Ellie; no one would be able to stop her from leaping head-first into the ground due to the lowering clouds. Buried and suffocated by grass and mud, a feast for the maggots, but loved eternally. Every cell in Ellie’s body thrums with anxiety. Just when she trusted that her mother’s health was improving, she woke up, shrouded in ice next to a limp body and an empty pill bottle on the nightstand. The same ones her mother took to sleep throughout the night.

That was three weeks ago. She doesn’t remember calling 911.

Her best friend — her only friend is gone. And it’s permanent. This isn’t like how her mother used to scavenge the streets until dawn searching for another job before Ellie woke up. She’s not coming back to crawl into their shared, warm bed, sleep for half an hour, then help her get ready for school. No more oatmeal in the mornings. No laughter. No joy. No symmetry. Ellie’s life is forever scattered. Beaten to death until she’s leaking venomous, black blood.

There’s a man that keeps staring at her with pity: familiarity crushes her every time they lock eyes. She kind of remembers him. Somewhat. She almost forgot her shoes before coming here. He seems more upset than her. At least externally; Ellie’s rotting from the inside.

Her mother’s chamber is completely submerged underneath dirt within the next few hours. The man from earlier is much closer now.

She jumps when he whispers,

I owed your mom a favor.

OCTOBER, 2009

Ellie hates Joel. Hates her mother for leaving her with him. Hates herself for not being able to save her from the claws of addiction.

Joel’s home is always silent during the day. He gave Ellie the grace of letting her stay home until the Spring, but it’s too quiet. Music never plays and they never talk, and it’s driving her to madness. The silence makes her itch.

Until the sun sets.

She already has trouble sleeping. Her insomnia combined with the thunderous clanking that blares from the garage every night is enough to get her sobbing into her pillow until the sun rises the next morning. One night, the noise had gotten so uncontrollably loud that Ellie barged into the garage to shout every curse she recalled her mom screaming into the phone before bedtime.

She didn't expect, however, to see Joel’s legs extended out from underneath her mom’s wrecked ‘57 Chevrolet. Ellie could hear him grunting as cranking and banging of metal took over the space.

… What are you doing?

Joel rolls out from beneath the car on a creeper, face confused and smeared with dark sludge.

Why’re you up?

It’s loud. She snaps. Why is her car here.

Joel sighs. Just trying to fix it up.

For what. Ellie eyes the cracked windshield. She somehow remembers how a rock hit it on the freeway when she was six. Her mom was livid. She can’t drive it anymore.

Joel’s face twists uncomfortably. It’s almost comical; the seemingly boiling child stands at a whopping four-foot-three with her fists clenched, burning holes through her bright yellow Spongebob pjs. Her glare sharpens when he mumbles,

Kid…

So you stole her freaking car? Her eyes swelter, brows hauled downward and hands in fists. He sits up straight, palms up in surrender, wrench in hand. How’d he even get back into their old house?

No, I — He rushes, She asked me to try n’ get it started again. That’s all. I… I shoulda asked you —

Ellie’s not sure why she’s so enraged, but she’s hollering with a pointed index in his direction, berating him, degrading him with sobbed vulgarities. Pushes him hard when he rises to comfort her. Eyes him with so much disdain that he flinches.

She hates him. She misses her mom.

The guest room door slammed shut with the click of a lock. She screamed for her mother for hours. Voice shrieking so loud that the neighbors came knocking after the first fifteen minutes. Cops pounded on Joel’s door and proceeded to conduct a wellness check on the household after an hour.

Their presence made Ellie swallow her scorn. Ellie’s already received a small taste of what it’s like to be in the system. She vowed to never reenter as if her life depended on it.

NOVEMBER, 2009

Joel made Ellie chocolate chip pancakes for her birthday.

Breakfast is silent, per usual. Light clinks of utensils on silverware and breathing are the only proof of life in the room. Ellie refuses to touch the squared slices of pineapple. It was her mother’s favorite, despite her complaints of an itchy mouth after every juicy piece.

Your mom and I…

Ellie pauses, skeptic eyes connecting with Joel’s. He’s treading light, she can tell. The nerves in his fingers are evident; The sorrow in his eyes suffocates her. Joel’s gaze drops onto his plate at the scrutiny he receives from across the table.

She’s a good friend of mine, He mutters before his lips turn downward. Was.

Ellie snorts humorlessly, Way to rub it in.

Joel’s eyes flutter shut as he sighs, I’m… Sorr—

Were you the one she told? Her tone is sharp. Unforgiving. I heard her on the phone a few days before she did it.

A storm flurries in the man’s gaze. A familiar one; It’s identical to when she would catch her mother in the middle of night talking to herself with a bottle in her hand. The winds in his pupils take her back to one of the darkest times of Ellie’s life. Maybe they were closer than she assumed. They look identical when they’re guilty.

I didn’t—

But he did. He’ll never forget being on the other line with Ellie’s mother as she attempted to keep her cries to a minimum. Her croaked wails terrified him. Left wounds in his chest as his heart raced. I can’t do this to her, She’d said, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t! … Please… You owe me…

Joel did what he could over the phone. Made promises to her that he couldn’t keep, reaffirmed how much Ellie loved her. How badly she needed her mother, and eventually eased her sobs into pained whimpers. He believed the calmness she exuded prior to ending the call was a sign of understanding of her importance, but it wasn’t. Her mind and body merely accepted her fate. She was dead two mornings after.

And Ellie was a witness to it all.

Ellie’s eyes roll and sickness floods her, so she stands, You’re a liar. When you’re ready to tell the truth… You know where I am. She doesn’t bother to push her chair in, clean her dishes, pause at his calls of her name. Her feet stomp through the hallway, marrow searing beneath her skin. The guest room door slams shut and she breaks, guarded by the plainness of the beige walls while tears flow.

She knows he knew. Why else would her mother leave her with him?

When Ellie got up to use the restroom hours later, she nearly tripped over a teddy bear holding a birthday cake. With candles. She’s never received a gift before.

She doesn’t tell him that she slept for an hour with it hugged to her chest.

The noises in the garage halt for a week. Ellie still can’t fall asleep. Joel has the same problem, she’s discovered. She finds him sprawled out on the couch one night, burning holes through the roof with a picture frame in his arms. She watches him silently for some time, perched behind the main wall of the hallway.

Hey.

Joel’s acknowledgement earns a gasp followed by scuffling, and he snorts. He sits up and sets the dusty frame on the cushion in front of him, noting how awful Ellie is at hiding; It makes him smile. Barely, but he’s endeared; Her entire arm was exposed. He can even see her duck-shaped slippers from where she’s tucked behind the wall.

Ellie.

She doesn’t come out, and he sighs. His heart twists painfully when he hears a wet sniffle. He’s up and moving when a guttural sob echoes from the hallway, crouching down in front of Ellie with her knees squeezed into her heaving chest. Joel’s heart cracks at her flushed cheeks drenched in salt. Talking won’t calm her, he knows it, but he’s unsure of what else to do. Ellie… isn’t an emotional kid, but he hushes her, attempts to cradle, apologizes softly.

But when her wet eyes pinch open, she unravels and falls into him completely. Her arms squeeze around his neck in a deadly grip and she cries and coughs and whines for her mother. Joel holds her just as tightly as she hangs off him.

We're gonna be fine, sweetheart. He mumbles, and he feels her head shake in denial, tucked in the crook of his neck. His knees wobble, and a soothing hand rises to caress the back of her head; He's never seen a kid this hopeless. It makes him wonder.

What the hell did she witness in that house?

Ellie’s always struggled to fall asleep alone.

Her need to be coddled to dreamland was always a mystery to her mother. Skin-to-skin was a normal trait for infants, toddlers, maybe even a little over, but at age ten? Eleven, and unable to fall asleep without the feeling or knowledge of a loved one present? There was only one time where she recalled her mother carrying her to her own room to rest, but the second the door clicked shut, she was up. Awake. Alert and exposed to harm. Or, at least that’s what she convinced herself.

She crawled into her mother’s bed minutes later and snoozed throughout the entire night. She didn’t hear the end of it when the sun rose.

Joel doesn’t berate her, though.

I can’t sleep by myself, she’d said to him after she calmed from her breakdown in the living room. They’d sat on the couch as he rubbed a comforting palm down her back, her small ones coming up to wipe her wet cheeks.

How come?

She scoffed, Scared of the dark, I guess? I dunno. I just can’t.

Joel hummed in understanding.

I’m like that, too. Sometimes.

Ellie snickered wetly, You’re old, though. It’s not the same.

Joel scoffed and snatched his hand away in mocked hurt. I’m not old!

The gray hairs say otherwise!

That night was the first time they ever laughed together. The first time Ellie laughed since her mother’s death, and it carried on until she knocked out beside him on the couch.

For Joel, though, he couldn’t rest. Not when Ellie favored his daughter that much. Whenever he feels as though he’s progressing, letting go of grief, something life changing — disastrous — forces him right back to square one. Meeting Ellie was one of those moments. He tried to keep his weeping to a minimum as he held her sleeping form, eyes glued to the picture of him hugging his baby after her first soccer win.

DECEMBER, 2009

It’s New Year’s Eve, and Ellie’s trapped inside the garage with Joel.

Watching him tweak her mother’s vehicle has aided her raging boredom… To a certain degree. When he starts getting nerdy and raving about car parts, she tunes him out, despite the slight interest she’s taken with underneath the hood.

The connecting wires, the bolts, the valves and cranks and this manual makes absolutely zero sense—

Can you stop dillydallyin’ around n’ hand me that?

Ellie’s gobsmacked reading is paused when she passes Joel the manual, dark sludge-covered hands staining the fading paper. She cringes.

Ellie watches silently as Joel inspects the contents, nodding to himself as his eyes flicker from the vehicle to the booklet, mapping out his next moves of attack. His eyes sparkle and curiosity sparks in her.

Did you fix it?

Joel only murmurs to himself, and Ellie’s eyes roll. She inches closer to him and waves a hand in front of his eyes. Hellooo? Is it gonna start?

… I think so, kid. His head shakes in disbelief, If I can get that transmission replaced, it might be alright.

Ellie’s brows furrow… What on earth is a transmission?

I’ve been workin’ on cars for a while. I can tell you now that finding such an essential part for a model this old is gonna be tough. Might cost me an arm n’ leg.

Ellie shrugs, You’ll figure it out, old man.

He stares down at her blankly, Gee, thanks. Hand me that wrench, assistant.

Ellie mocks glee on her skip to the rolling cart, Gosh golly dang, does this mean I’m hired?

He jokingly snatches the tool from her extended hand. Little bugger. And just like that, you’re not gettin’ paid. How’s it feel to be outta funds?

WAAAAAAA—

Ellie’s fake wails earn her a deep holler.

Ellie oversees Joel until the clock strikes twelve, following his line of vision on every rusted compartment of the vehicle. Stood attentively at his side as he pointed out the carefully crafted machinery, listing their parts despite Ellie’s protest of forgetfulness. There are so many names for everything; Building cars seems so complicated, but curiosity sparks in her. She starts to think: maybe cars aren’t so boring.

Another sleepless night for the both of them; Might as well commit to movie night. Fireworks are still going off in the small neighborhood hours later. The booming colors in the sky makes Joel's teeth grind. Reminds him of the time he took Sarah to Santa Monica Pier.

Joel?

Mhm?

… What favor did you owe my mom?

Thickness builds in his throat the second Ellie mentions her. He sets the large bowl of chocolate-doused popcorn onto the coffee table, reaching for the remote to turn the movie down. Not off, down. Ellie hates feeling like she’s being scolded.

Joel doesn’t look at her, but her eyes are glued on the side of his face.

Umm… He scratches his face, Did your mom ever mention me to you? Ellie denies with a hum.

Joel’s mind whirs back to the first time he met Anna: sophomore year. He was exhausted, drained, barely making it, but despite being miserable, he still cared deeply for his education. He studied until his eyes burned, jotted down notes until his hand cramped and the librarian was gently urging him to head home.

She… We were friends in college. He fonds, We met at an ice cream truck.

Weird. Ellie notes causally, She hates dairy.

… Yeah. She does. Joel coughs to mask the brokenness in his voice.

Anna was… a genius, to put it lightly. Academically gifted to an intimidating degree. Her mind was a camera; She’d scan one excerpt from the thickest novel once and still manage to repeat it word for word years later. They had comms together; Her voice sounded like tweeting birds whenever she recited her prepared speech like it was nothing. She was an emotional speaker, entranced everyone in the room, and always ended with a question that forced students and professors to self-reflect. Joel wouldn’t call it a crush… Merely admiration. Envy. He was motivated whenever he left comms.

He’ll never forget the image of her, sweating and worn, carrying what seemed like a twenty-pound backpack — all stuffed with calculus books — while ordering a can of Sprite from the humming, beaten down truck. Anna didn’t leave after the vendor handed her the soft drink. She simply turned to Joel, inspected him from head to toe, and turned back to the vendor.

I’ll cover whatever he gets, too. With a thumb aimed at him. He nearly choked.

A free snow cone couldn’t halt the racing in his chest.

I know what you are.

What, He questioned without a stutter.

You fix cars? Anna quirked a brow at him. Joel’s brows pull downward. How did she know that? He’s fixed one car since he’s been enrolled. His buddy pulled up in front of his dorm asking for a windshield repair. But he shrugs, feigning nonchalance. I dunno.

The green-eyed girl scoffs and sips from her nearly emptied can.

You down to replace a tire? Some jackass thought it would be funny to leave a rusty nail in our parking lot.

Our. She must have roommates… or lives where he does, he thinks. For how much? Not a beat missed.

Her shoulders lift, I dunno. How much does a tire cost?

Depends on the model. What d’you drive?

A chevy. Don’t ask the year, I’m not sure. It was a hand-me-down.

A slight pause between them before Anna suggests with a sigh,

Come see ‘er.

Thar she blows.

Joel can’t help but snicker at the woman in front of him, posing right next to her teetered vehicle. It’s quite charismatic; the bright pink bumper stickers, the crisp turquoise paint job, the slight scratch on the trunk. It’s nice. Classically vintage; it suits her.

A beauty, he notes with his eyes locked onto Anna’s. She gives a hum in agreement.

Revive her, if ya don’t mind. I’m desperate and can’t sue, so. Joel nods and inspects the damage on her tire. The air is nearly fully gone, and it’s making her drive slump.

Tire shouldn’t be more than thirty-five… Gonna have to head home for some stuff. Willing to wait an hour? When he turns to her, they’re shoulder to shoulder.

Anna smirks, Whatever you need, mechanic.

My dad, Joel corrects, He taught me the basics when I was like… twelve.

Her voice lowers, Good on him… Earned me a discount, eh? A hand claps down on his shoulder and gives it an encouraging squeeze, and he revs to life.

He swears the tips of his ears are red hot, Sure… minus that deposit. I needa twenty for emotional damages.

Fuck off. Her eyes are soft, Might never go to the shop again. You’re officially my car fixer-upper. Fuck these grease-balls n’ their price spikes.

Joel snorts, You get into that many goddamn accidents?

She leans in closer, and his throat closes. Slams shut. Turns to dust.

You’ll find out, mechanic.

That’s why you’re spending so much time on it, Ellie notes at Joel’s retelling before a harsh gasp escapes her. Dude, were you in love with my mom or somethin’?

The man stutters and coughs, No — what? I told you she was a frien—

Ellie snickers with a judgmental point, Yeaaah, yeaaah, I know how these things go. You sucker!

What the hell — I’m not a sucker… And what things—

Anna and Joeeel sitting in a tree! —

A pillow smacks Ellie dead in the face, and she topples over in cackles. Joel rubs deep in his temples. Ellie would’ve loved Sarah. Two little bullies who feast on his suffering.

No more storytelling. I’m going to bed.

You can’t! Remember? Ellie hollers as tears fall from her eyes. She coos at Joel when he lifts himself off the couch and down the hall, trying to mask his small smile.

Aww! C’mon, old man, it was a joke!

I can’t wait for you to go back to school, ya vermin!

An exhausted Ellie creeps into Joel’s room half an hour later. She sighs in relief when she doesn’t hear snoring. Her mom was the worst when she was tired. She tiptoes across the carpeted floors until she’s in front of the unoccupied side of the mattress, stealthily adjusting the blankets and pulling back the sheets.

She slowly manages to tuck herself in, fixing the pillows so her head rests on the cold side of the case, exhaling happily at the warmth defrosting her limbs.

The second she dozed off, she yanked to consciousness by raspy sarcasm. Her eyes roll underneath her lids.

You can’t, either. Joel croaks, Remember?

JANUARY, 2010

Five days until school. Five days until misery. Five days until… strangers. Ellie’s skin crawls whenever she thinks about being an enclosed space with snot-nosed boys and soggy lunches.

And math… Gross.

Joel has been more than willing to postpone Ellie’s enrollment whenever she becomes anxious, but she always denies his requests. She’s grown to like Joel, but… he’s not the best teacher, especially social studies. Reviewing one of her old packets nearly gave him an aneurysm. She can’t afford to be homeschooled by him.

What's been the best distraction from her impending doom?

Binge watching Cars for the billionth time… And helping Joel patch up that blue Chevy.

They celebrated their first victory last night for repairs, at least: Joel stuck and twisted the key to start up the engine, and it managed to stutter to life. For less than five seconds. The headlights barely came on and an old Foreigner record broke through the crackly speaker. They rejoiced with the brightest smiles as their hands slapped the dashboard before the vehicle crashed out once more.

A glimmer of hope. A chance for reconnection. Anna’s sending them messages. The joy in that car shifted to grievance; Joel had to cradle Ellie in his lap as she wept into his shoulder.

But there’s hope. Ellie wanted nothing more than to get this car working after that. Duty calls, though, and the alarm’s coming from a backpack.

You got this, kid. Stop stressin’.

Ellie, without a doubt in her mind, does not got this.

Screaming children, muddy slides, bloody band aids; they’re all on the other side of that office door. Her worst nightmare has come to life, and she desires nothing more than to hide out in her mom’s car forever. The bag strapped around her shoulders matches the weight of a body. She refuses to let go of Joel’s hand as he speaks with the giggly receptionist who’s too happy to see him (what the hell), but it's okay; he’s holding hers just as tightly. Just as paranoid, apparently.

She’ll be with Mrs. Lawson for the remainder of the year. Ellie hears the receptionist say over her pounding heart, She’s incredible! I’m sure they'll develop an amazing bond.

Ellie’s palms are sweltering. Joel must feel it because his thumb nuzzles into her wrist. She’s not built for this. Maybe returning so soon wasn’t a great idea. She can’t do this without her mom.

Cool backpack, Spidey, is said from behind her, and she stiffens instantly.

She has a Spider-man backpack.

Hush. An older man’s voice replies. Sounds strained. Stressed, but he only receives a light snicker from her in return.

Ellie watches with squinted eyes as a young girl gets escorted towards the front of the office by… the principal, she assumes? He seems fancy in his suit slacks.

You stay right here until I get your uncle on the phone, The suited man is stern towards the girl, who plops down on one of the waiting chairs. Backpack and all, You can explain to him how you swore at a teacher. I’m not dealing with this from you today.

M’kay, Mr. Harris.

Ellie observes the entire scene indiscreetly. Her stares are obvious, glued to the clearly agitated dean who stomps into his office.

Where’d you get your backpack?

Ellie’s stunned at your sudden whisper. She shocks herself when she quietly stutters,

Um… Walmart?

You smile, I like it. I want one.

Ellie simply nods, but gets paused before she can redirect her attention to Joel.

Are you new? Your voice grows quieter when you look over your shoulder. Right at the principal’s door. I am, too. I just moved schools.

This shocks the brunette. The new year just started, and you're already locked in the office with evidently angry staff.

Yeah… I’m new.

Something in your grin shifts. Ellie’s nails lock into Joel’s hand. … Interesting—

Young lady! Did Mr. Harris give you permission to speak?

You audibly ponder like the attendance clerk asked you to solve a riddle.

No, ma’am. I apologize.

Then hush. Not another word.

Ellie watches you fold your hands politely, twiddling your thumbs. Your eyes don’t leave her backpack.

Ready, kiddo?

Her eyes finally reconnect with Joel’s, encouraging and chocolate, and she nods. He guides her to the office exit where her new life resides. Before their departure, she can’t help but take one last respectful glance over her shoulder. She finds you staring with a quirked lip and your wrist outstretched like your shooting spider webs at her. Ellie jerks her head forward and releases the breath she’s been holding.

What a weirdo.

tagggiiiiessss :3: @inf3ct3dd @fleshunger @sawaagyapong @elliesbitchh @aouiaa @elliesatchel @williamellieslilho @elliewilliamgfooc @bready101 @myluvforstarz

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams au #ellie williams #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams tlou #lesbian #streetracer!ellie #works 𖧧࣪#ellie williams x f!reader

221 notes · View notes

euphoricfilter · 1 month

Text

hearts for dinner ~ drabble 1:

pairing: yandere! taehyung x demon! reader

genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au || established relationship || yandere au

summary: the lust of kim taehyung

tags/ warnings: he films her without her knowledge. smut in the forms of: phone sex/masturbation, cumming on thighs, fingering, mentioned oral, sort of cum play, first kisses!!

notes: takes place before the previous part :D

<- previous || where you can read my other stuff!!

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

the first time taehyung had invited you over to his house, it took every single cell of willpower to not lock the door and demand you move in with him that very second.

it had only been a couple of months since he’d asked you on your first date, seconds after meeting you enough for him to be entirely enamoured by your mere existence.

the pretty little dove he wanted to cage and keep to be cherished by his all consuming love for the rest of time.

there was only so many nights he could watch you through the camera he’d planted in one of the flower pots he’d given you before he was desperate to feel your flesh against his.

waiting for you to be tucked under the plethora of blankets on the bed before he’s snatching his phone off the desk, calling you.

he needed to be the last thought before you fell asleep, treading through your dreams, following you into the real world. he needed your mind as full of him, as his was of yours. needed you to understand the tight squeeze of his fragile heart every time he thought of you.

he needed your reason for life to be him, to want to breathe his air, touch him. he wanted the spiral of love, pulling the both of you so far into the black hole of raw desire to be the only thing that surrounds the both of you, as he moulds your very own paradise.

even on the nights you’d be sleepy as he calls, he can see the faint outline of a smile, barely there on your lips when you hear his voice.

and even on those nights it wouldn’t be hard to rile you up, smooth timbre of his voice ever so sweet as he tells you how pretty you are. how as he closed his eyes he could see the outline of your body, how much he wanted to mark you as his for the world to see.

teasing as you go quiet, hand palming his cock as he asks if you’re wet. if you’d be a good girl and press a finger through your folds, press a thumb over your clit.

he’d watch on the screen of the laptop, mound under the blanket where you’d slipped your hand into your panties.

he’d have to stave off his orgasm, always such a good thing for him. some nights you’d get a little hot, covers slipping onto the floor, and tae wouldn’t be able to help the ropes of cum that paint your face on the laptop screen at the little peek of your pretty little pussy, the perfect treasure taunting him.

you’d always been so shy, so to have you wriggling beneath the sheets as he tells you how to pleasure yourself made his heart soar, cock throbbing with the incessant want to cum between your walls, the rawest form of claim.

the night of your first kiss— that wonderful day you’d finally come over to his place, will forever be ingrained in his mind. how red your cheeks had been, ever so flustered. fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as you blurt out your admission of never having kissed anyone before.

so unsure of yourself he was convinced he wouldn’t last the night with you sat in his bed, a vulnerable little thing.

“it’s okay, pretty” his thumb had brushed down your cheek, gentle reassurance. caramel sweet words soothing the sheer panic you’d felt.

there had been a quiver in your fingers as he leaned forward, eyes squeezed tight as his lips brushed over yours. the briefest little kiss, teasing you.

you’d chased after him, desperate for more. pressing a soft peck to his lips.

he hadn’t known you’d get so excited, hand shoved between your thighs as you try to relieve some of the growing arousal.

“oh sweet thing” he’d crooned, hands holding both your cheeks as he’d kissed you, tongue pressing into your mouth.

he remembers how you’d rubbed your poor little cunt on his thigh, how you’d admitted no one’s ever touched you before.

you’d watched as he’d tugged your panties down, showing you how to play with yourself. his fingers spreading your folds, thumb slipping into you.

the first time you moaned his name, he came over your thighs, slapping the head over your cunt to watch his seed mix with your arousal pushing it into you afterwards, making you push it all back out only to make you swallow it after.

it didn’t take much to convince you to stay over his house after that, tucked away sleeping in his bed with his head between your thighs, or your hand wrapped around his cock.

because taehyung knew you were perfect, your own version of love slowly forming into the raw sort of need that he had for you. your souls slowly becoming one, with every moment you spent together. because you even met in your dreams.

your life, be it awake or in the world of dreams, taehyung had taught you his way how to love.

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts #bts x reader #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung fic #bts fic #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung imagine #bts imagines #taehyung scenarios #taehyung x you #kim taehyung imagine #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung fluff #bts non idol au

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lunememes · 1 year

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🌙 * ― 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 ( a collection of various settings for drabbles or prompts, or both! )

001. a tattoo parlour, buzzing with machinery and walls lined with artwork . 002. a shopping mall, crowded and loud . 003. a cabin in the mountains, taking shelter from the snow storm. 004. an abandoned tea party, occupied with broken dolls . 005. the shooting range, empty casings clinking on the floor and sulphur in the air . 006. a music room, filled with melodies of an instrument . 007. an empty auto shop, hood of a car left open and quiet music coming through speakers . 008. a bright arcade, coins falling from machines and claws grabbing at soft toys . 009. the kennels, filled with barking dogs and excited companions . 010. a restaurant, where everyone is eerily quiet and staff are overly friendly . 011. a riding arena, with trained riders atop proud horses . 012. a mini golf course, sails of a windmill obscuring the path ahead . 013. a zoo, filled with an array of unique animals . 014. the docks of a bay, boats lining the decks . 015. a pond with ducks, seeking food . 016. a museum, displaying ancient bones and pottery of a history long ago . 017. a closed down prison, ghosts of violent history echoing in empty cells . 018. a quiet train station, lights overhead flickering and announcement board displaying errors . 019. the vast desert, scorching heat baring down at high noon . 020. the dark woods, filled with strange hanging symbols made of sticks . 021. a deep hole in the ground, covered by leaves and sticks . 022. a wishing fountain, base lined with copper coins of past wishes . 023. an abandoned picnic in an empty field, flask still warm with coffee . 024. a barn filled with hay and tools, old wood creaking in the wind . 025. a graveyard in the dead of night, wind howling through the trees . 026. a crumbling bridge above a raging river . 027. the refreshing waters of a lake, away from prying eyes . 028. the crossroads, in the middle of nowhere . 029. a cosy bonfire at summer camp, marshmallows roasting on the fire . 030. the top of a radio tower, with the perfect view of the surrounding area . 031. a lone phone box on a street corner . 032. a large elaborate temple dedicated to a deity, offerings still intact . 033. a drive-in movie theatre, cars empty and projector casting only light onto the screen . 034. a strange trail of breadcrumbs on a woodland path . 035. a haunted mansion, ancient paintings watching every footstep . 036. a decrepit mine located out in the hills, believed by locals to have a powerful curse cast upon it . 037. the edge of a cliff, overlooking the rough waves and distant sounds of approaching danger . 038. a road trip across country, music blaring through speakers . 039. a flower shop, filled with bouquets and a sweet aroma . 040. an airport in the early hours of the morning, deprived of sleep . 041. a train on its way to its destination, a sleeping passenger resting on a shoulder . 042. an abandoned shack filled with strange books of the occult and something mysterious bubbling on the stove . 043. an empty throne room, moonlight glimmering through tall windows . 044. an underwater tunnel in an aquarium, fish swimming overhead and sharks looming in the distance . 045. deep within unmarked cave located in the side of a mountain, lit only by a flare . 046. the dusty streets of a western town, watched by wary residents . 047. the back of a vast library, surrounded by books, when a black book falls from the highest shelf . 048. a room of an asylum, an abandoned camcorder left in the middle of the room . 049. the shores of an unknown beach, washed up from the ocean . 050. the deck of an unsteady ship, waves crashing against the haul and rain lashing down from dark clouds .

#setting prompts #rp meme #drabble prompts #rp memes #rp prompts #setting meme

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henrioo · 2 months

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°•*⁀➷ MINE TO CLAIM: ZORO

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : In a full moon night your werewolf boyfriend can be a little wild and uncontrollable, good that you don't mind helping him with all his needs.

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : AMAB! READER, MALE! READER, NSFW, MLM, HOMO SEX, rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, werewolf stuff (full moon, heat, knot, biting/mark, mate), impregnation talk (Zoro wants to make the reader a dad), breeding kink, the reader CAN'T get pregnant but Zoro doesn't care

꒰ WC ꒱ : 1,1k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : So again, minors and fem DNI, you be blocked and blah blah, I'm not in a good mental state to post a long notes, so sorry. The thing I can say is I will try to finish the ask because I am already taking too long, and I will try to finish translating my other stuff to post, I hope this helps me get better, thanks for all the support and enjoy!

You held tighter to the pile of pillows, there was padding everywhere thanks to Zoro's claws that had ripped some pillows and cushions from the nest he built. You thought that nests were things for omegas in fanfictions, but it seemed that in reality all wolves had one. Since Zoro no longer slept in the forest now that you were dating, and you forbade him to sleep in the middle of the woods when you had a house in perfect condition, it wasn't strange to realize that he really missed something more traditional from his werewolf origins.

You helped him build the nest with lots of love, using a small spare room in your house, the two of you were able to build a nest and a small den for when Zoro felt like snuggling, following his instincts in a more natural place for his breed. It was basically a mess of sheets, your and Zoro's clothes, as well as several pillows and cushions to make you comfortable. You also covered the window with black plastic so that it would always be darker and more cozy for both of you.

Usually, you and Zoro just laid there cuddling, especially when he was in his full form. Sometimes you ate and watched movies on your cell phone, nothing too strange or exotic. That was until Zoro finally asked you to marry him and asked if he could mark you as his mate, saying he couldn't bear to go out with you on the street anymore, knowing that you didn't have his mark or scent. After some explanations about this ritual, you accepted both requests with great emotion, deciding to become Zoro's become his fiancé and also his companion.

Since the branding ritual, a deep bite on your neck that bled and left you in pain for weeks, unable to even turn your neck, every full moon, his nest, which was once just a spare room for snuggles, has become something much more… Intimate.

“Zoro!” You screamed his name for the thousandth time that night, your ass was high in the air and if it weren't for Zoro's big hands with huge claws holding you by your thighs, your wobbly legs would have already given up on you.

Your entire body was burning, and you had already cum so many times that your dick was so sensitive and Zoro hadn't even fucked you yet, he was too busy with foreplay. He was now licking your hole like he was sucking on ice cream, sticking his huge tongue so deep you could see stars, you were already drooling against the nest and every scent of your wolf was so intoxicating that you felt drunk and sick from his pheromones.

“Mine, mine, mine” Zoro didn't speak properly during mating season, he usually growled and released small compliments or affirmations of possession. He tried to show all his feelings just through actions, not being able to trust his tongue to express all his desires.

He finally pulled away from your hole, which was now dripping with saliva, and enjoyed the view for a bit. You were squeezing around nothing, and you were stretched and wet enough to take him. Zoro was always twice as careful during the full moon, knowing that for a human it would be much more difficult and painful to take a werewolf's knot completely. He quickly bit your ass a little hard and slapped the other side, then he stood up and leaned over you.

He placed kisses on your back, feeling you relax as he began to smell your neck and hair, making you shiver and let out a soft moan. He quickly began rubbing his nose against the huge bite mark on your neck and licking it affectionately, feeling pride fill his chest knowing that you were completely his and anyone could know that.

“Zoro… Please” you begged whimpering for him, you were already so tired and overstimulated that you were afraid you would pass out before the wolf was able to stick his dick in you. “I want your cock, please, please, I need it so much” you begged him, begged him to finally satisfy you both and not prolong this pleasurable torture any longer.

“Do you want my cock?” He growled in your ear as he grabbed your waist with one of his hands, his claws scratched you and you knew you would be sore all over the next morning. “Do you want my knot? Do you want me to fill it completely?” He pumped his own dick while rubbing the head of it against his crying hole, which was trying his best to suck him inside. Your own cock began to twitch, getting excited to cum again.

“Yes! I want your knot! I need it, Zoro!” You screamed without any shame, knowing that Zoro loved it when you became uncontrollably vocal, shouting how much you loved and needed him “I need you to fill me Zoro! Please! I need your cum inside me!” You cried shamelessly trying to rub your ass against him.

“Shit… You’re my needy boy, aren’t you? I'm going to fill you so good, I'm going to fill you completely... You're going to take my fucking knot and I'm going to fill you with my cum again and again until you're full and pregnant with my puppies” he breathed heavily into your you heard as he began to slowly thrust into you, giving you time to get used to his cock which was bigger and more swollen due to the full moon “You want this, don’t you? Carry my puppies? Being the daddy of our pack” he growled at the idea.

"Yes! I want to! Please, Zoro! I want to carry your puppies! Oh!” You screamed as he thrust harder, shoving a large portion of his cock in at once. “I’ll be a good dad, I promise!” You didn't even have control over what you were screaming and begging for anymore, you just needed him.

“I know, I know you will” You both knew it was impossible for you to get pregnant, after all you were both amab men, but that didn't lessen the fantasy of Zoro filling you up until you were pregnant with his puppies. “I’m going to fill you so fucking good you’ll be dripping”

And when Zoro rammed the rest of his cock in, pressing into your prostate so hard that you came immediately, feeling your legs giving out and your eyes rolling back to their fullest as you could feel his cock so deep and swollen inside you that you definitely had a bulge in your stomach, you knew that was definitely a promise.

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oneshotnewbie · 7 months

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A jogger finds a phone and calls the cops. When they take it and put it into a zip back, they accidentally turn on the phone - revealing a picture of The Captain of the SVU and Reader?

Possible trigger warning: This one-shot includes the mention of blood and kidnapping, the plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

ᕚ---ᕘ

William Jacobs ran across the Brooklyn Bridge at the same time every morning, trying to beat his best time. But today he desperately thought about turning back and skipping today's sports session - the weather was playing into his cards.

Despite all the negative voices in his head, the young man ran from the Brooklyn bridge to the Manhattan Central Park and back. At this early hour there were hardly any passers-by and only occasionally a few cars drove past. As he took his first step off the bridge, he was inspired by the release of happiness hormones and increased his pace.

William loved being able to look out over the East River and let his thoughts and feelings flow freely. His black hair flowed in the wind and was dampened by the drizzle, her ragged breathing evident in the chill of dawn. When he managed halfway of his way, he was panting like never before in his life - the cold air making it harder to force enough air through his lungs. The young man felt the slight sting in his side, but did not hesitate to stop.

It was not until his head moved towards the entrance of the Central Park that he saw something blue and shimmery lying on the ground. Confused, he stopped and cautiously approached the object, peering left and right to locate other people.

Startled, he jumped back and almost stepped into the street when he saw red-brown stains around it, some of them even splattered on the cell phone he had found. William did not even hear the car behind him screeching to a stop next to him and the car door being opened with an aggressive jerk. "Are you crazy? I almost ran you over!"

But the young man did not answer the older women. She looked at the black-haired guy and saw fear and disgust on his face. His shaky fingers pointed to the main reason he stopped, which was why the woman looked confused on the ground and shortly after promptly walked back to her car in shock. "We have to alert the police." he shouted in a shrill, abnormally bright voice. The stranger nodded her head and pulled her cell phone out of the glove compartment of her red car. She quickly tapped on her phone and held it trembling against her ear.

"Emergency call center, how can I help you?" A calm voice asked on the other end of the line, beginning to type on her keyboard to find out the location of the caller. "We found a phone." she spoke anxiously, earning a sigh from the 911 agent. "Mam, you know this is not an emergency, right?"

William looked confused at the device in the old lady's hand, and in his adrenaline rush he did not quite understand why the sigh was being given. So he quickly snatched the cell phone from her and continued the conversation. "Listen. Here is a cell phone lying at the entrance to Central Park, covered in blood splatters. I also recognize an original NYPD cell phone case."

“Which entrance are you at?” the woman's low voice slowly calmed his rapidly beating heart. He took a deep breath while trying not to let his mind sink into a hole of horror scenarios. He looked around, trying to figure out which entrance he really was at. "Fifth Avenue at the Plaza Hotel,"

"Do not touch anything. I will send you a unit."

ᕚ---ᕘ

The gentle rain pattered quietly against Olivia's bedroom windows and made her open her eyes just a crack wide. Her tired gaze glowered out and a hand brushed over her face as she watched the night slowly fade away. Her attention turned to the other side of the bed, her fingers curling into the cold sheets next to her.

Her fiancée was no longer lying next to her and she sighed heavily. She usually woke up before you almost every morning, kissing along your naked spine stroking her hand with pleasure over your sides before she remained on your bare hip, waking you up for another day. Olivia loved waking up next to you since she shared a bed with you and enjoyed every minute of it. But she respected your exercise routine in the early hours of the morning and was in no way offended if she started the day without you.

The brunette tried to close her eyes for another five minutes, but quickly abandoned the idea when her cell phone rang. A little angry, she felt around on the bedside table for the annoying-sounding device and answered the call. "Lieutenant Benson?" she sighed loudly, already pulling the blanket off her body.

The brunette, half asleep, rummaged through her closet for some clothes and ran into the bathroom to get ready. "Central Park, I will be right there." When she ended the conversation, she tried to reach you on your cell phone to take you home, but her attempt came to nothing and she did not think about it any further - you had already put your phone on silent often enough to avoid being distracted.

After quickly downing a cup of coffee to wake herself up, she pulled her coat off the hook and slipped through the door into the day's events. The rain worsened on the way to the crime scene, washing every possible mess back into the sewers. When she got out, Amanda and Fin were already standing at the cordoned off area that had been created to protect the evidence from the rain. "What do we have?"

"A blood-spattered cell phone," the blonde expressed, gratefully accepting an evidence bag from another officer. She carefully placed the found object in it and handed it to her boss. "A cell phone? Why were we called?" the Sergent and the detective shrugged and raised their hands in question. "The caller thought it was a cell phone belonging to one of our colleagues, which is why we were notified because a significant amount of blood was found next to it."

Olivia nodded, looking worriedly at the phone in her hand. You had the same case around your phone, she had given it to you as a small gift. She turned it around so the screen was facing her and her heart skipped a beat when she saw the scratch on it. The brunette had almost caused the same one on your phone when she saved you from a bullet a couple months ago.

She always wanted to have it repaired but you would not let her - it was a memory for you. "Liv, are you okay?" Finn asked worriedly, watching as the color suddenly drained from his best friend's face. She nodded in response, looking back from the evidence to the paving stone. A good amount of blood that was not easy to ignore. "Yeah, it is just.."

The tough woman could not finish the sentence right away. The screen turned on on its own, showing a reminder notification on the display. Underneath you could clearly see two smiling faces smeared with light gray paint as a background image.

She recognized the image immediately. Olivia shot it herself when you were recoloring your bedroom together. Olivia swallowed hard, the phone shaking in her hands as she tried to suppress her rising panic. “It is y/n’s. It is her phone."

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elliottkay · 1 year

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Hi, I’m Elliott, and writing smut changed my life.

I also write military sci-fi and fantasy and D&D shitposts, but this is about the smut. I promise it won’t get weird. Much.

In 2010, I was scraping by as a substitute teacher and things were not great at home. I had only written gamer fic for friends, my aspiring mil sci-fi novel was stuck, and I needed some sort of escape… and I thought, “Well, I like sexy stories, and Literotica is free, and…”

My story was a feel-good adventure about a college guy with a heart of gold, a jaded demon weary of evil, and Heaven's hottest mess. It was silly. It was sexy. It was polyamorous, warm, and irreverent, and Literotica loved it: high ranking, tons of comments, and holy shit am I getting positive feedback from the internet?

So it became my first book:

…and that book plugged some holes in my life. It didn’t get me out of subbing, but it filled the financial gap, and it picked me up after a break-up. More importantly, it gave me an audience. When I published Poor Man’s Fight, I already had readers, and that led to more readers… many of whom then picked up Good Intentions and loved that, too, though some had the shocking experience of “Oh my god, it’s full of butts!”

If you’ve read this far, it’s probably time for the content warning. I’m a big believer in these, for serious reasons and, um… less serious.

WARNING: “Good Intentions” contains violence, explicit sex, nudity, inappropriate use of church property, portrayals of beings divine and demonic bearing little or no resemblance to established religion or mythology, trespassing, bad language, sacrilege, blasphemy, attempted murder, arguable murder, divinely mandated murder, justifiable murder, filthy murder, sexual promiscuity, kidnapping, attempted rape (which is never comedy), immolation of said attempted rapists, persistent disrespect for vampires (which is always comedy), arson, dead animals, desecrated graves, gang activity, theft, assault and battery, panties, misuse of the 911 system, fantasy depictions of sorcery and witchcraft, multiple references to various matters of fandom, questionable interrogation tactics, cell phone abuse, reckless driving, even more explicit sexuality, illegal use of firearms within city limits, polyamory, abuse of authority, hit and run driving, destruction of private property, underage drinking, disturbances of the peace, disorderly conduct, internet harassment, bearers of false witness, mayhem, dismemberment, falsification of records, tax evasion, bad study habits, and an uncomfortably sexy mother.

…and that’s just the first book.

They've all got those warnings. Even the short story collections.

Credit to the incredible @leemoyer for all my book covers, and for teaching me so much about this biz. And while he's not on the book covers, I've gotta share the other central protagonist as illustrated by the awesome @juliedillon:

...yeah, Alex gets into some shit.

If you're looking for protagonists who really communicate, if you want polyamory instead of love triangles, and if you hate when steamy scenes fade to black, I've got you covered.

If you’ve read this far and you’re interested, or even if you just want to see more content warnings, please give my stuff a look on Amazon (including Kindle Unlimited) or on Audible where they’re narrated by Tess Irondale. Give her a listen and you’d be happy to hear her read just about anything.

#books #bookcovers #good intentions #urban fantasy #polyamory #extremely thorough content warnings

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gasolineghuleh · 1 month

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Heated Pleasure

Commission from the lovely @monstercumhrt! Thank you dearest!

You, Swiss and Rain have been in a poly relationship for ages now-- you're well established partners in the Clergy... and so are their heat cycles, which often fall one after the other. When it's Rain's turn, you find yourself receiving a text invitation.

Pairing: Swiss/afab reader/Rain Polycule Word Count: 6.5k Tags: biting, choking, knotting, heat, threesome, cum eating, female oral, claws, animalistic Ghouls cw worthy tags are bolded for ease

Rain is in heat. You know this, because he's been leaving you very detailed messages about it-- texts flood your phone with the various descriptive desires of one of your Ghouls, and you would be lying to yourself if you said you weren't secretly expecting a note to show up at your door, calling you to the dens that they share. Still, though, these texts feel more explicit than usual. Your heart pumps with adrenaline as you read through the salacious messages again. How he can't stop thinking about how your mouth feels around his cock. How he wants to bury himself in you until you're overflowing with his cum-- most of it could be misconstrued as normal horny-posting from any Ghoul with a cell phone, until one specific message.

The message that got you, made you gasp and clench your thighs together, was the one where he mentioned he has a right mind to breed you. You've always thought that Ghouls were sterile, but you guess not, and now you're more than a bit curious. So you've been keeping your schedule open. Just in case he calls, of course. You itch and ache for them both, and it likely won't get any better until you have a searing hot cock inside of at least one of your holes.

You feel a slight vibration in your pocket and pull out your phone. Perfect timing-- it's Swiss. He's sent you a text that says, "Come over." He isn't usually this short and to the point, and something about the text grabs at your gut in a way that tells you you're about to get what you want. You look at the time. It's almost midnight, and you aren't likely to get any sleep tonight unless you sate the yearning between your thighs. You sigh and shrug. Better now than later or tomorrow, you think. You grab your keys and wallet and lock the door behind you, shutting it quietly enough to keep the other Sibling's slumber uninterrupted. You head out into the night, traipsing quickly down the steep stone stairs leading from the dormitories to the lobby of the Abbey.

The large statue of the Baphomet sits hunkered down in the center of the lobby, large ruby eyes glistening wetly in the light from the braziers on the wall. You take a moment to uncross yourself, kissing your rosary in front of the statue and offering silent reverence for the absolute plowing you know you're about to receive-- who are you kidding, any pleasure *this* sinful has to have come from the Dark Lord himself. They don't call it a 'devil's threeway' for nothing, after all.

You shake the spider webbing thoughts from the corners of your mind and hunker down by the side of the statue dais, locating the large black iron ring that serves as a door handle. The trapdoor swings up towards you with ease, silent on well-greased hinges. The path leading down is a bit darker than you would like and you feel your hackles rise slightly. Your breathing quickens and you fumble for the handrail, fingers finally wrapping around cool wrought-iron after blind flailing for a few moments. You know they probably can hear your heart pounding in your chest, but it's just Swiss and Rain waiting for your arrival down there, right? No need to be scared.

For you, at least.

The tunnels wind past the prison and stop cell blocks for the Siblings who've been cast aside by the Church, whether through discipline or willingness, and don't know that they're essentially living sacrifices. You feel sorry for them, but then again, they had to be the worst Siblings. Even for Papas, torture, or even death, tends to be undesirable. You shudder slightly as you remember the former Papa Emeritus the Third, whose reign in the church ended violently. They say if you can survive the dungeons under the Abbey, no infernal entity will ever frighten you again. Rumor has it that Earth has had new Siblings in the past, although you haven't seen any, except for the acolytes.

A chill rushes past you and you feel ice in your fingertips. Is it your own nerves getting the better of you, or are the stones breathing with your arrival? You manage to shake off the grip of fear that threatens to turn your innards to liquid, and slink your way down the stairs. Sconces alight on the walls as you descend, past the door that marks the cells and into the dens of the Ghouls.

It's cozier here than you expected; even the ceilings are decorated with chandeliers, and the walls are framed with archways that give you the feeling of being inside a grand space while still reminding you that you're underground. There are plush cushions and other various fabrics strewn about the floor, surrounding a low lying platform in the middle of the room. The other Ghouls lounge and play about on various instruments as you make your way down the stairs, finishing the last step. Their eyes are alight as their gaze locks onto yours, illuminated almost eerily in the dance of the flames that lick up the sconces on the walls. Some are draped half over the edge of the platform, some entangled with one another, while others look inviting to sit upon.

One of the Ghouls catches your eye, slanted smile painted on their smarmy face. You can't tell if it's a Ghoul or a Ghoulette, but their eyes scream of sex and the flick of their tail suggests that they find you attractive enough to consider it. You smile and catch yourself, quickly averting your eyes towards the corridor and jerking your chin slightly.

"Are Rain and Swiss down there?" you ask. The Ghoul looks disappointed briefly before wiping it from their face and taking on a flirty and airy look instead. They wave their fingers in the direction of the hallway before tucking their hand back under their chin.

"Down there, sweet skin. Unless you'd rather spend the night with me instead." The Ghoul's forked tongue comes out to flick towards you quickly. "Bet I could make you smile, hm?" You huff out a surprised laugh and feel heat creeping up your face, no doubt visible to the Ghoul with their vision.

"I have a- uh- arrangement," you stammer out, jerking your thumb lamely in the direction they indicated. Their eyebrow cocks up and you feel your blush deepen. "Prior! We, uh- made it."

They shrug and run their long, forked tongue over the side of their teeth. "Tis your loss, pretty one. Come find me sometime, and bring the Ghouls. I'm always amenable to a plaything or two." Their tail flicks in amusement and you shiver; your thighs are wet now, as if the Ghoul has convinced your own nether bits that you want it to happen without conscious thought.

You stutter out an "Okay" before turning and walking in the direction of the Ghouls' rooms. Your mind plays the scenario in quick, flashy snippets: Fingers-turned-tongues explore the interior and exterior of your already-soaked sex in the dim but flickering light from the candles mounted on the wall. Another shake of your head to dispel the thoughts and you're moving swiftly, striding through the curved hallway until you find a bedroom with an open door. Peeking through it you see Swiss on a bed that's been pushed up against the wall, his back pressed to the stone and a guitar in his hands. He's strumming lazily, his eyes closed and face tilted towards the low ceiling. His mouth isn't moving but you can hear him humming something, and you stand by the door and watch him silently until he opens his eyes. He doesn't miss a beat, gesturing lazily to his side and not stopping what he's doing.

You kick off your shoes into the corner of the room and join him on the bed, hopping up with ease. Swiss watches you as you do, his hands still moving lithely over the strings of the guitar. You run a hand over his thigh, admiring his skin against yours. He moves a hand to adjust his mask and you feel your chest get tight, like it does every time you look at him. You reach out and feel your hand caress the leather portions of the mask over his cheek and he looks down and chuckles quietly, his ears turning red.

"Missed me, huh?" he teases, setting his instrument aside on the edge of the bed.

"When have I ever not?" you reply breathlessly. He runs a hand through your short hair as he pulls you closer, leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours. You grab the tops of his biceps and restrain yourself from letting your kiss go deeper; after all, the longer you wait, the more it will excite the both of you... and there's still neither hide nor hair of Rain. Swiss' hands glide from your neck to your waist, drawing you closer with a possessive tug and a growl. The rumble causes heat to flare in your core and you gasp lightly, breaking the kiss and licking your lips. His hand comes up to grip the back of his mask, tugging at the strings that hold it together and allowing it to fall to the floor.

He's beautiful like this-- face slightly flushed with the beginnings of arousal and eyes glinting amber with a twinge of mischief behind them. His fanged teeth poke out just slightly from the corners of his mouth, which are tilted up into a perfect smile. Swiss leans back, giving you a better look at him, one eyebrow cocking Heavenward in a display of cockiness. He knows he's gorgeous, and better yet, he knows that you know. When he tosses his hair behind his shoulder you smile; his beauty still takes your breath away, even a whole relationship and years later.

"Like what you see, don't you?" he says, cockiness on full display. Swiss pumps his hips a little, rolling his pelvis in a way that makes you hungry for him.

"As if I haven't been very vocal about that in the past," you laugh, making a move to push his shoulder in jest. Instead, Swiss grabs your wrist in a smooth motion, fingers curling around you enough to feel his claws against your skin. You gasp before laughing, reaching for him with the arm, which he quickly grabs as well, trapping it against his chest. "You gonna let me go or not, big man?"

"Never. You belong to us."

Swiss tugs you back against him with a growl of ownership and your faces mash together, teeth and lips and tongues the perfect recipe for hunger building between your legs. He's all hard angles and planes and heat under your fingers, the long, rippling muscles under his smooth skin easily accessible for you to explore. You drag your fingertips over his skin and hear his breath hitch, his hips rolling up against you. He breathes hot against your mouth and the skin of your face feels electric with desire. Rain is likely to feel it before he even enters the room; you pull back and touch your cheeks with your fingers and smirk, lips brushing lightly over the shell of his ear.

"I'm turning beet red already," you say quietly, allowing your heated breath to warm his neck. You hear his sharp intake of breath at the sound of your voice and feel yourself involuntarily clench your thighs at the look of pure lust in his eyes as he looks back at you. He smells earthy, almost sweet, with a hint of musk; it reminds you of autumn nights spent lying awake, anticipating the flurry of activity that came with Samhain, the harvest feasts and the endless rounds of fucking in celebration of the season.

Swiss licks his lips before capturing them between his teeth, sucking them and looking contemplative as you feel the brush of something across your thighs. You look down and realize his tail has snuck up to wrap around one of them, and it squeezes lightly before smoothing over the skin. The spade head of his tail sneaks slowly up your leg, teasing at the edge of your habit before sweeping back down, caressing you gently. When you tilt your eyebrow at him, his sly smile cracks into a cocksure grin, pupils blown black in lust already.

"Maybe we could get started while we wait for Rain?" he suggests, his tail slipping further this time and sliding underneath your dress. You lean back enough to scan his body-- smooth and sculpted under his unbuttoned blouse. The planes of his chest are all hard muscle and coarse hair, rising and falling with his breaths. The side panels of his shirt rest on either side of him and you can't help the tingle that settles between your thighs when your eyes slide over the trail of hair that leads down from his navel. There's a twitch at the junction of his hip, a long stripe of flesh flitting in and out of sight; he definitely just jumped, or at least, part of him did.

"At the very least," you reply breathlessly, hiking your dress up over your hips, "this may keep your attention until he gets here." Before the words leave your lips Swiss is on you again, flipping you swiftly until you're beneath him. He brackets your waist with his thighs, holding you down so you can't move and settling his crotch firmly against yours. There's a small wet spot under his bulge in his pants and you feel yourself clench from the thought of being the source of his precum.

Swiss presses against you, sandwiching you between the mattress and himself. His cock throbs against your cunt and your attention narrows to that single point of contact. You stifle a moan when he thrusts his hips slowly against your core, smearing the wet spot from your underwear to his pants and causing another rush of warmth to suffuse your cheeks, leaving them blazing red with arousal and embarrassment.

Your first, deep inhale yields the scent of incense that permeates the lower level, combined with something fresh, clean, and purely him, deep from within-- could it be pheromones? Was Swiss in heat too? Warmth pours off him onto you and makes your head fuzzy, your hands automatically reach to wrap around his biceps and hold him in place, back arched, hips unable to move. You struggle in vain to get some kind of leverage but he has you locked down in this position.

He puts his teeth on your neck and bites lightly, not enough to break the skin, but enough to let you know that he's the one in power here-- just in case you had any lingering thoughts of denial or escape. His fangs just barely pop through the skin and you gasp loudly enough for him to pull back, eyes narrowed quizzically.

"You want the Ghoul or not, baby?" he asks, deliberately pushing his hips against your cunt again. It's been ages since you've allowed either of the boys to bite you, bringing blood, but you're not directly opposed to it. You flush again and reach up behind Swiss' head, dragging him back down against you and pulling his head against your neck. His lips curl into a smile against the soft skin of your throat before he bites you again, forked tongue lapping gently against the small wounds.

The sensation travels to your core as if electric, sending jolts of liquid fire through you to the exact spot where the rounded head of his cock rubs firmly against your slit, soaking your underwear and likely his pants in the process. He growls lightly against the now-marked flesh of your neck and you moan breathily. Blood rolls gently from the slight punctures at a speed quick enough to start pooling under your skin and he laps at the wounds again before finally getting to his feet. You follow him upright, vision slightly fuzzy and head filled with fuzzy cotton batting as you sway on your knees.

Swiss' hands snap out, holding your shoulders steady with his palms flat. You wobble on the bed and his grip changes, sliding his hands up the sides of your neck until he can rest his palms against either side of your windpipe-- one delicate squeeze and it would all be over.

But he doesn't.

Rain appears in the doorway, wordlessly kicking the door shut behind him and sweeping his jacket off of his shoulders in the same motion. His eyes find yours and you watch as he flicks back and forth between Swiss and you, trapped underneath him. Rain's mouth gapes for a second before he regains his composure and grins, stepping further into the room and unbuttoning his shirt, letting the side panels fall free to expose his chest and stomach. His lean and lithe body has always been a point of attraction for you, and he more than likely knows the effect that the simple motion has on you.

"I see you've gotten started without me, aye? Is that fair, when I'm the one who called for it and the one who needs a good rutting?" he asks, his voice good natured. Rain works at his belt and removes it, looping it easily with a soft noise and dropping it back at his feet. He does the same with his pants and slides them down his legs, standing before you now in nothing but his underclothes, slightly more modest than yours, which are almost completely transparent with your arousal. Rain's eyes scan over your legs before he reaches down to take his cock in his hand, rubbing the palm of his other hand firmly over the tip and palming the exposed head. He makes eye contact with you, hooded and dripping with lust, and for a second you wonder if he's got that water magic thing going on that the Nephilim have or if he's just unbelievably turned on.

Swiss growls slightly, rolling the two of you with ease until you're straddling his hips, cunt pressed against the bulge in his pants. The thought of grinding yourself down against him is tempting, but passes almost as soon as you feel Rain behind you, his hands moving down your back to cup your ass appreciatively. He grinds himself between your cheeks and groans loudly, reaching down between you to yank off his underclothes. You drop your head and put your palms down on Swiss' chest, your blunt fingernails making small indents into his skin. Rain claws at the elastic band of your underwear, tugging them down roughly until you hear the seams start to fray.

"Say please," you practically whisper with a wink that only Swiss can see, reaching behind you to wrap a hand loosely around his throbbing length. One of Rain's hands spreads the cheeks of your ass while the other moves between them, slicking your own juices, now mixed with his, over your tight hole before sliding two fingers inside of you. You clench hard around the feeling and tighten your grip around him, twisting your hand lightly to stroke him. He groans in pleasure, already strung tighter than a drum and quivering at the need, the urgent and ever present need, to cum. Rain's fingers scissor you open slowly and he leans forward enough to rake his tongue across your shoulders and neck, the long, forked end leaving a cooling trail of spit on your arousal heated flesh. His claws prickle against your skin before sinking in slightly and you raise your ass further, giving him a better angle to finger you.

Swiss leans forward, nuzzling his nose against the soft skin of your neck and inhaling. His cock twitches where it presses against your belly, and you can practically feel it pulsing in time with his heartbeats. His mouth drops open slightly as he smells again, fixated on the spot where your shoulder meets your neck. The animalistic action sends a surge of panic to your brain that your body interprets as arousal, a thought that will likely only occur to you once the danger has passed and you're alone in your bed. You rock your hips against Swiss and Rain, the slight amount of movement enough to make both men groan audibly.

The pressure of Rain's cock withdraws and you feel it head first against your aching cunt. He grabs your hips and tugs you against his chest, pulling you into him at a sudden and unsuspecting pace. Rain pushes in easily and settles his hips flush with your ass with a long groan, claws finding purchase against your hips again and holding you in place. You flex your walls slightly and let yourself adjust to his heat, full and heavy and settled inside of you. Already, there's the swelling of a knot where his cock meets his slender hips and the thought goes directly to your clit. He's only knotted you once or twice before, but the feeling was enough to make you crave it every time he mentions his heat cycle.

One of your hands wanders south, reaching for Swiss' cock and spreading a bit of precum from the head over the remaining length before teasing him again-- it's swollen and purple, and you ache to feel it inside of your mouth, but the pleasure of Rain's cock is far too much to want to move. Rain snarls from behind you almost as if he's read your mind and slams his hips against yours, his knot pushing at the tight ring of muscle and threatening to split you in two. You give Swiss one last look before bucking your hips, grinding up and against him the best you can from your position. Rain moans as you take his knot halfway before relaxing and wiggling your hips from side to side until he's slid inside you, and he growls something you think is swearing as you fully seat him. Rain's dick is longer than Swiss' and always leaves you gasping at the feeling of being crammed, full enough to hurt and spread open at every point.

"Sathanas, Rain," you gasp, each shuddering breath inward only serving to remind you just how much of him is inside of you. "You couldn't wait?" His sharp exhalation, part laugh and part relief, are all you hear from behind you. Rain's nose trails along your shoulder, warming the fabric of your habit. His other hand has found the junction between your thigh and your side, squeezing possessively as his cock throbs inside of you. He must be aching, straining not to push any further against your walls and the tension keeping his knot out of your body for the moment.

"Been too long," Rain replies simply, his grip tightening as if to make his point. He pushes himself closer to you, teeth resting against the soft skin of your neck as the claws of his free hand sink into your hip again. The bite of pain is welcome, the dull throb in tandem with his pulse as his cock continues to threaten and push outward at the places you're bound to ache after tonight. You reach a hand out and grasp at Swiss' as Rain exhales another shaky, shuddering, trembling moan and begins to rock his hips back and forth. Swiss' fingers entangle themselves with yours as your lips meet, his teeth biting gently on your lower lip.

There's the loud, rhythmic noise of flesh against flesh, Rain and your thighs each hitting you from either side, causing your entire frame to jump. Balls land heavily against the curve of your ass, thick with seed and desperate to empty inside of you. This is the life, and you are the mate, and tonight you are the receptacle of everything he can give, all his pent up energy and desire in this single rutting season. You imagine his eyes fluttering, eyes rolling back inside his head as he closes them to shut out the rest of the world and the task at hand.

Swiss' cock twitches in your hand and you stroke him again, the momentary lapse in concentration making his lips curl into a smile against yours. When he leans forward to kiss you harder, Rain grips your hair in a free hand, tugging you back against him instead and breaking the kiss between you and Swiss. "Give me time," he growls down at Swiss, who puts his hands up simply and leans back on the bed, content to let you grind on him and watch the show. Rain, in heat, clearly feels the need to dominate the situation for the time being.

Swiss rests up on his elbows, giving you a better view of his body and using the freedom to tilt his head slightly. His eyes, normally light and jovial, now seem as if they're burning holes into your body where they gaze, and you are hyper aware of him tracing out a circle around where your body connects with Rain's. His claw trails lightly over the delicate nub of your clit and you gasp, your cunt tightening around Rain's knot, sending shivers up your spine. Your thighs tremble with the effort of holding yourself in position and Rain, noticing your discomfort, eases you down onto Swiss' waiting chest, allowing you to relax and let it push deeper inside of you.

Sucking in a breath through your teeth you look up at Swiss again, whose mouth stretches wide and curved at the corners with the hint of a smile. "Should I-" you start, cut off suddenly by the sharp and near violent sensation of Rain thrusting deeply into you, stretching you to your very limits as he grunts in pleasure. He bends at the waist over you, one hand slipping around you, low at your hips to drag you sharply against him and drive you in further and deeper than before. One of his long fingers dances around your clit as he drives into you, his cock filling you and pressing against the exact spot that you need him.

"God, Rain, you- need- to- be- careful- or I'll-" you cut yourself off, your words punctuated by his thrusts as he grows more and more desperate. With a barely contained shriek you cum, your cunt tightening on Rain's cock as pleasure wracks your body. Swiss moves his hips underneath you, urging you on with profanity laced dirty talk. The bulge of his cock presses against your thigh and he pulses it in time with his hip movements.

Your words lose their way, scattered in between sharp breaths and twitches of your hips. Everything is heightened: The warmth of Rain's cum filling you while your breasts brush lightly against Swiss' hard chest, the sound of skin against skin and quiet pants, his subtle but unyielding musk overpowering your senses. Overwhelming, almost, and your body reacts to the tension in the pit of your abdomen and in Rain's. Your shoulder burns where Rain has already sunk his teeth into you once this evening, a rush of blood welling and leaking in crimson beads that travel further and further as Rain tightens his grip, thrusting unevenly into you. His breath catches in his throat and his knot expands just enough for a sharp and almost painful thrust, prompting a sharp hiss as you cry out. You feel the sensation of fullness in your belly and cunt as he finishes, emptying himself inside you with a shuddering and grating exhale that borders on a sob. His body trembles around you, almost in tandem with yours, shaking from the tension and exertion.

When his hips stop moving his teeth relax in your flesh, pulling free with a popping sensation and know he's definitely broken skin this time. His tongue laps gently at the bite, a soft noise coming from him that could have been mistaken as a whimper were it not coming from someone of Rain's nature. The pressure of him is immense inside of you, a deep and profound sensation that sends aftershocks through your entire body. Swiss' hands rub gently along your sides, encouraging you with soothing and soft words as you come down. Behind you Rain breathes heavily, his breaths of exertion hot against your sweat cooled skin. Now that you're coming down you feel the ache beginning in your core, and you shift slightly on Swiss' lap.

"Uncomfortable, dove?" Rain asks softly, lips starting to pepper the nape of your neck with kisses and nips. His claws still rest on your hips, gently rubbing the soft skin and raising goosebumps in their wake. Your breathing hitches again when the motion of his fingers drags the sensitive nerves and sends more shivers down your spine. His knot slowly recedes and a throbbing ache begins to take its place. Rain chuckles, low in his chest, and you can feel it in your body as if he's taken hold of your ribcage. He hums contentedly, and the rumble sends tingles of pleasure up your spine and a pulsing throb from your clit. "Swiss will take care of that. I've got to grab a smoke."

The weight of Rain on your back disappears, the shift causing you to wince at the slight adjustment as you roll off Swiss onto your side. Your cunt aches with the loss of Rain's knot and you can feel your muscles beginning to tighten with the activity. Swiss stands and stretches, popping his shoulders before he leans down over you, kissing your stomach. "Let me take care of you, now," he mumbles against your skin, facial hair prickling you softly.

"Mm," you manage to get out, scooting across the bed slightly when he motions at you. You sling one arm over your eyes, relaxing back into the pillows and Swiss adjusts and positions himself between your legs. He kisses your inner thighs slowly and luxuriously, lips caressing the soft skin before he uses his fingers to part the flesh around your entrance. Warm, wet tongue drags lightly over your pussy and your entire body shivers at the contact as you tremble underneath him. You're only slightly overstimulated, and the soft and lathing tongue does more to relax and soothe you than anything else. Swiss takes his time with your cunt, lapping gently at your clit, tongue teasing along your sensitive and swollen lips. He pays particular attention to the flesh between your inner and outer lips, knowing it's more sensitive and licking softly before flicking over the delicate flesh, careful not to let his fangs scrape your skin. When his tongue sweeps across your entrance you jolt, gasping slightly before relaxing back into his touch.

His arms rest loosely around your hips, pulling you slightly forward in an effort to bury his tongue as deeply inside your hole as he can reach. In the same second his claws dip into your skin, leaving indentations that will last until the next morning. Another moan escapes you, your free hand reaching down to grasp for Swiss' hair-- an anchor to lash yourself to. Swiss' tongue flicks across your clit again before diving back into you, and your entire body shivers in response. When he looks up at you and catches your eye, his own are aflame and a slight smirk curls his lips before he drops his head again.

"Gonna fuck you soon, baby girl, soon," he purrs, breath ghosting lightly across the sensitive skin of your hips. You shudder and jerk again, and when his tongue darts across your clit and down the flesh leading to your cunt, the motion is deliberate and meant to draw a reaction. It works, and your body shivers, gooseflesh erupting down your spine. His teeth tease your entrance, gently nipping at the delicate flesh as the spade head of his tongue sweeps against you once more.

"God, Swiss, your tongue," you say softly, twisting your fingers tighter into his hair. He chuckles softly against you before pulling back and shaking your hand gently free of his head. Swiss slides smoothly on top of you with one motion, his cock already freed and leaking as it drags along your belly. You reach up and wrap your arms around his shoulders instead, dragging him down against you to kiss you deeply. When his lips meet yours they're warm and full, the taste of yourself and Rain still present as he pushes his tongue past your teeth, tangling with yours.

The scent of incense fills your nose again and you sigh softly against his lips before they pull away. Swiss smiles softly as he settles his weight on his forearms, hands cupping either side of your head as he runs the length of his cock between your folds, rubbing and pressing at your clit with the rounded tip of his cock. You suck in a sharp breath and let out a shuddering gasp, heat building inside your abdomen already, although you'd just orgasmed less than ten minutes before.

"Swiss," you manage to get out as you roll your hips down and press yourself against his shaft. The friction makes you whine, a breathy moan leaving your lips and ending on the softest of exhalations, your body relaxing back into the sheets of his bed. Swiss looks up and grins, his hands now on your hips, thumbs stroking over the soft, delicate skin as he teases you with the head of his cock, pressing in slowly and then drawing it away.

"What do you want, sweet thing?" He punctuates with another flick of his hips, pulling his cock against your clit once more, his breath catching slightly as the friction rubs your sensitive skin. You tremble with want, a desperate ache settling into your belly again, but your tongue is heavy in your mouth and you can't form the words that he so clearly wants from you. "You know, if I knew you'd be so shy about saying it I would've asked Rain to stick around," he chuckles, tilting his hips so that the length of his cock settles over your stomach, warm and pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He tilts his chin down at you as you look up and smiles. "What do you want me to do? You know I want you to tell me," he prompts.

You inhale again and sigh out, relaxing under his touch and feeling a flush creep over your neck and chest as you swallow hard. "I need your cock in me, Swiss, please," you murmur, looking up at him through hooded eyes, eyelids fluttering when his fingers flex and squeeze the sensitive flesh at the juncture of your hips and thighs. Swiss groans, shifting on top of you before sliding his hand between the two of you to grasp his cock. You can feel it slide wetly over the skin of your stomach as he jerks his hand over it, your hips rolling and meeting his movement. His eyes lock with yours and his pupils blow wide with arousal before his cock slides into position, pushing into the tightness of your body and stretching your cunt around it.

He's a more comfortable fit than Rain's knot, to be sure, but the sudden feeling of being filled is all the same. Swiss thrusts slowly at first, each motion stretching and teasing your inner walls as your cunt stretches to accommodate his girth. Each thrust is deliberate and careful, a test of restraint for him as well as a test of patience for you. You try to pull him against you by the hips, and when that doesn't work, by his shoulders, but he shakes free of each grip with a breathy laugh and an exhalation that makes his mouth twitch into a smirk. "Don't you know patience is a virtue, baby?" he growls playfully.

"You saw what Rain just did to me-- I didn't have much patience then, either." Your quip comes quick and effective, making Swiss snort out a laugh.

"Yeah, that's-" He rolls his hips, making you gasp, eyes flying wide open. "That's about right," he says, settling into a rhythm finally, the sound of skin on skin getting louder as he does. He drives the tip of his cock into you, teasing against you.

"Don't play that way with me," you manage, looking up at Swiss, whose smile turns into a devilish grin. He reaches down, pinning one of your legs underneath him with one of his own. When his hand wraps around your throat your eyes fly wide and you inhale, a short and startled sound that's cut short by Swiss' firm grasp.

"Is this better?" he asks, tilting his hips so that he slams into the spot that makes you see stars and you know it won't be long until you witness the cosmos flashing in front of you as you cum for the second time. The motion makes you spasm involuntarily, and he squeezes your neck tighter, watching as your face goes from light red to dark crimson before his hand eases the grip slightly.

You shudder against his fingers as his hips snap against your clit again, and the pressure on your neck, although light, still has you feeling slightly dizzy and disoriented, like your entire being has narrowed down to the spot where the two of you join. His hands tighten on you again as his eyes fix on yours, searching your face for a sign of discomfort. With another powerful thrust he cums, his hand squeezing harshly for a moment before releasing entirely. Swiss drops over top of you, his hands pressed into the bed on either side of your head and he breathes heavily, his hips twitching and cock pumping inside of you.

His thrusting is slow and shallow, drawing his cum out against your walls and leaving a sticky warmth between your thighs when he withdraws, slumping off of you to lay on his back at your side. His arm goes across your shoulders as he catches his breath, his lips moving against the side of your head. You feel your eyelids get heavy as you come down and snuggle closer, listening to his heartbeat slow to a normal pace. You hear Rain in the hallway and the sound of the pipes creaking as he turns the taps.

You blink and Rain is there, gently tending to you with a warm and dampened wash rag, whispering words of love and praise for your mushy brain to soak up. Swiss nods along with him, reinforcing the words of endearment and adding his own, whispered softly into the crook of your neck with earnest.

And then it is morning.

----

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#the band ghost fics #the band ghost ficlet #ghost bc fanfic #lorraine writes #era 4 ghouls #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #swiss x rain #swiss x reader #rain x reader #rain ghoul

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popawritter12 · 8 months

Text

Yandere!Clark Kent + Yandere!Bruce Wayne x female!reader

𝕐𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤: Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent

𝕄𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕒| 𝔸𝕟𝕚𝕞𝕖| 𝕧𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕠𝕘𝕒𝕞𝕖| 𝕥𝕧 𝕠𝕣 𝕞𝕠𝕧𝕚𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕖: Dc movie series (?

ℂ𝕒𝕤𝕖: Scenes of jealousy, attempted aggression.

ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥:1 of 1

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘: I spent several days trying to do something coherent, I didn't like Batman vs Superman nor did I find a coherent way to make a Yandere story of these two. But hey, this is the final result, which is located after the events of the new flash movie (I mean, the new reboot of the DC world)

{AND YES, I PUT A PHOTO OF BATMAN VS SUPERMAN BECAUSE I THINK IT WAS AWESOME}

⋆ටᆼට⋆ ⋆ටᆼට⋆ ⋆ටᆼට⋆ ⋆ටᆼට⋆

Coffee, cooked mate, tea, black tea, green tea, smoothies, croissants, ice cream.

You smell the sweet atmosphere and feel the warmth of the cafeteria atmosphere fill your soul and body with happiness. As if you have changed from a horrendous and heavy environment to one full of happiness and peace and love, you smile, thinking about what to ask for.

For a few days you longed for a break from work, and finally you had it, you could finally have breakfast in complete peace, without worrying about whether you arrived late or late to a place or to do such a thing.

After talking to the clerk about what you were asking for, you sit down to think about your life, and what you could do today. Walk in the park? Watch a movie? Or maybe just lie in bed and sleep like you've never slept in your life.

Or maybe... visit Barry, one of your best friends.

Yeah, that sounded like a great idea, catch up and talk like they did before they got into college.

But... Something went wrong, something interrupted the little rest you had, and you knew that thanks to the people who suddenly went outside.

As if everything were a chaos orchestrated by destiny, as if it were God who had decided to let humans take the reins of their destiny, you see how a kind of fabric is torn in the sky. A hole in the shape of torn cloth reveals two men, peering out of the gloomy chaos that had ensued.

People watched, took photos with their cell phones or recorded videos, or were directly shocked by the bizarre situation in which they lived. The surreal thing about this fact was that a part of you thought that Barry was in danger.

A pang that runs through your stomach as if it were your body telling you something, forces you to start pushing people.

Elbows, shouts, pushes; everything seemed like chaos with the people who began to mobilize.

You walk out of the cafeteria, looking directly into the hole that had opened up.

As strange as it may seem, or as fearful as you did not express, you were able to see two people in the distance that you casually or conveniently knew.

---Bruce? ---Questions with a small voice ---, Clark?

All the noise that people were making because of the shouting, or just because of the amount of people moving slowly fades away, as if your brain was only focused on the two people who were there, above, staring at you, as if they were watching you. searching.

It is then that the hole gets bigger, and an immediate desire to run or hide from what was going to happen ran through your mind and body taking over you

But... everything was in vain, everything had already been determined, everything had already been done, as if destiny had already been written on a stone.

You can see it, the world you've known, the people you've always loved, or even your very existence disappears.

In a blink, you go from being at work, watching the world be destroyed by something you didn't even understand, to waking up from your bed.

You remove the sheets from your body with violence, throwing the sheets on the floor. You look around you, scared; it was your room, but almost completely different.

Instead of posters of your favorite bands, there are posters of people you didn't know. From titles like "The woman in the cabaza" or "The dance of the end of the world" were movie titles that you had seen in your life.

Instead of losing your mind, or starting to panic, you know you can't lose your mind now.

Inhale, hold, exhale, inhale, hold, exhale.

You kept up the routine for a few minutes, until you even managed to keep the peace, even now.

---Remember; everything is fine, everything is fine, ---You inhale again, trying to keep the peace ---, everyone is alive, it was just a nightmare, it was just one more nightmare.

After a few minutes that at this point seemed endlessly insufferable, a sudden call interrupts your attempt to keep all your ducklings in line.

Seeing the cell phone, which was on top of a small book that was on top of a wooden shelf, you take it in your hands.

"Barry <3"

A small hope that everything was a nightmare appears, so you answer.

---Hello? (Name)? --- You hear his voice, like a worried older brother.

---Barry? ---You questions, happy.

You listen for a moment as if Barry did sounds of a happy person, as if he is celebrating that you still remember him.

---It's good that you remind me...! --- He cuts off his own sentence ---, I mean, I'm glad you're okay

---Yes, I'm fine... ---You answer, averting your gaze ---, I just... woke up.

--- Thank goodness --- He whispers, as if he were nervous ---, by the way, can we meet somewhere?

---Yes, s-sounds perfect ---You whisper, trying to hide your nervousness ---, where can we meet?

---I can hear you're nervous, did you have another nightmare? ---He asks.

You blink a few times, remembering that he knew about the nightmares you had for practically your entire life.

---Yeah... It was horrible ---Your voice cracks ---, I can't believe it felt so real!

---Huh? But if all your nightmares feel real... ---He mentions, confused.

---B-But... I could see as if the world was destroyed, something in the sky opened up! ---You explain, nervous ---. Everything was fine, it was my day off but... when I went outside, something in the sky opened up and...

---Oh... ---He whispered, this time more confused ---.., wait, did it open and something or someone peeked out? Like a person or...

---Bruce and Clark! The two of them peered out of the hole that opened ---You express, worsening your condition.

Barry is silent, it was noticeable that his words were stuck in his throat. It is then that, after a few seconds and listening to you sob with fear.

---(Name)... ---Barry called you.

---And I thought it was a dream because everything was being quite strange, and... ---You explained, getting out of bed and looking at the posters in your room ---, I'm in a stranger's room!

---(Name)

---It looks a lot like mine! But it has very... strange tastes, I've never met any of these bands or movies ---You say, investigating the room further.

---(Name) ---He calls you once more.

---What's happening?

---It was not a nightmare.

---What? ---You ask, before listening to someone knock on your door.

---(Name), I need you to go to the park in front of your house, Bruce and I will be there, okay? --- Explains Barry, you could see that he was trying to stay calm.

---O-Okay... ---You whisper, ending the call quickly, looking at the door.

After a few seconds of mustering as much courage as possible, you go to the door and open it. Your fear is suddenly replaced by surprise when you see who was there.

---Clark?! ---Your voice is shot throughout the house, to your surprise, you can see it there; completely calm.

He was carrying a white ceramic cup with flowers, which seemed to have something inside.

---What's up, (Name)? ---Clark asks, confused ---, are you okay?

You look at him for a few seconds, trying not to say something that would probably be very incoherent. You look at the cup that he was carrying in his hands.

---It's nothing... Did you need something? ---Questions, playing with your hands.

---Oh, nothing, nothing ---He repeats, with his cheeks a little reddish ---, I just wanted to bring you a cup of coffee, as I saw that you didn't get up.

You blink a few times, before seeing how he extends the cup towards you.

---Thank you... ---You whisper, before taking the cup in your hands.

--- By the way, --- He mentions, before suddenly changing his tone --- who was that you were talking to?

You can see that because his body was tense and his tone of voice had changed, he sounded different than what you were used to.

--- It was Barry --- You answer, drinking from the cup between your hands ---, he said he needed me to go to the park near here.

--- Oh, --- His voice changes even more for a moment, erasing the smile on his face, but suddenly it's back to normal.

---I'll go now ---You say, happy ---, say hi to Louis for me.

As you walk past your good friend, he suddenly grabs your arm, not forcefully, and in fact hardly exerts any force in his grip.

--- (Name) --- he calls you ---, can I go with you?

---Hey?

Your smile disappears, before scratching the back of your neck with one of your hands.

---Well... Barry says that Bruce will be there, don't you think it would be better if I go alone?

Yes, you were perfectly aware of the certain tension that existed in their relationship, therefore, it was best to avoid conflicts.

---All the more reason I must go... ---he whispered, tightening his grip on your arm a little.

---That?

---No, no, nothing... ---He lets go of your arm, nervous ---, I just want to make sure you're safe.

---But... I'll be with Barry and Bruce... ---You answer, confused ---Besides...

--- (Name) --- he calls you again, taking you back, now grabbing your arm, --- May I go with you?

You can see that his body acted unconsciously, as if he really needed to accompany you before anything else in the whole world.

"Well...okay." You relent, letting a heavy sigh fall from your lips.

You can see how his attitude and face change, his grip is quickly removed, and a smile appears on his lips.

---Okay --- he whispers.

＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／

You can feel how the tension in the air increases with each second of silence that was between the four of you.

---Uh, well... ---Barry whispers, playing with his hands, before walking next to you ---...It's good that we're together now!

---Yes, thank goodness... ---You whisper, before looking at your best friend ---.., Barry, could you tell me about the nightmare?

Bruce looked at you, you could see a soft smile tugging at his lips, before speaking.

---You didn't tell him anything, Barry? ---Bruce asks, intrigued.

---Eh, no, she doesn't know yet ---The young man answers, before looking at you.

---Know what, exactly? ---Asks Clark, again being serious.

---It's complicated.. ---You whisper, before taking a breath ----.., apparently I had a nightmare, as is recurring, but they're telling me it wasn't!

One of your hands goes to your lips, your nails settling between your teeth, until Barry takes your hand.

---Hey, hey, hey ---He's calling you ---, I know this is all complicated, but for now we're not in danger, so let's sit down and...

You can not just one, but two hands grab Barry's wrist, abruptly pulling his hand away from yours.

---Keep your distance, Barry/kid ---Both Clark and Bruce say at the same time.

The surrealism of the scene, along with the sudden reaction of both of you, surprised both Barry and you.

Barry quickly pushes them away, his tone changing suddenly.

---What's wrong with them? ---Barry asks, confused and frowning.

Neither of us could say anything, because you directly speak louder than usual

---What's wrong with all of you? ---You ask, with anger in your tone---. We can't fight now, especially not over something as small as him grabbing my hand! --- You approach Barry, taking his shoulder ---, don't fight, do you really want to make a scene having, I don't know...? More than 28 years?

After the nightmare that seemed to be real, the display of obvious jealousy on Clark's part, and an obvious attempt at another jealousy scene, you were on the brink of losing your mind.

Clark and Bruce don't act like they used to, where did your kind reporter who was actually one of the strongest superheroes on the face of the earth go? Or your good friend who showed you appreciation very rarely? By whom were they replaced?

You can see that both men stare at you, while Barry tried to calm the situation by talking, positioning himself in front of you. But that only caused the look of both of them... Yanderes to intensify, they will begin to lose patience, as if they were on the verge of taking Barry and... damaging him a little, with their own hands.

You know what I mean, don't you, (Name)?

＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／

I don't give a shit what the world thinks; The Bruce that appears in the last Flash movie is great, or at least I like how the actor looks.

#obsessive love #yandere #yandere male #yandere dc #yandere bruce wayne #two yanderes #dc #clark kent #yandere superman #yandere batman #yandere superhero #yandere x you #yandere one shot

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