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rpf-bat · 4 years

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Singing Songs That Make You Slit Your Wrists

Pairing: Frank Iero x Reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Written for Gothtober 2020, Day 8: “From Inside”.

Linkin Park invites you, and the other members of My Chemical Romance, to join them on the Projekt Revolution Tour. But, when their song, reduces Frank to tears, you realize that something is wrong. He confides in you, about his heartbreak.

You sat in the dressing room, at the back of the venue, feeling sweaty and exhausted, but good. You and the guys had played a killer set tonight. The fans had loved it.

“Where’s Frank?” you asked, sipping on your water bottle.

“I think he went to go watch Linkin Park’s set,” Ray replied, wiping his face on a towel.

“Oh, okay,” you nodded. “I might go watch them play, too.”

Linkin Park were the headliners on this tour, so their set came after yours. They were a really talented band. You were honored that they had asked My Chemical Romance, to open for them. They were really great guys to hang out with, too.

You left the dressing room, and began walking towards the stage. You found Frank, just behind the curtain. Beyond the back of his head, you could see the band rocking out. They were facing the crowd, so their backs were to you. But, Mike and Chester’s voices, still reverberated off the walls. You could hear, that they were in the middle of a song off their second album - “From The Inside”:

Trying not to break, but I’m so tired of this deceit

Every time I try to make myself get back up on my feet

All I ever think about is this, all the tiring time between

And how trying to put my trust in you, just takes so much out of me

Take everything from the inside, and throw it all away

‘Cause I swear, for the last time, I won’t trust myself with you

I won’t waste myself on you!

As the instrumentals kicked in, Frank punched the wall. The drywall crumbled under his fist.

“Hey!” you gasped. “What are you doing?”

“Y-Y/N?!”

Frank’s head whipped around, when he heard the sound of your voice. When he turned to you, you saw that his face was streaked with tears.

“Frank?” you blinked. “What’s wrong?” There’s no way that he’s getting so emotional, just because of the song….

“Nothing’s wrong!” Frank insisted, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “Just...go away!”

“I won’t go away!” you insisted. “You’re not the type, to get all weepy for no reason. Tell me what’s going on.”

“She deceived me, Y/N.” Frank rambled. “I can’t trust her...all my love was totally wasted on her.”

“Who are you talking about?” you asked gently, putting a supportive hand on his shoulder.

“My girlfriend,” Frank explained. “She’s cheating on me.”

“Oh my god,” you gaped, “are you serious? How do you know?”

“I...I just found out, tonight,” Frank stammered, beginning to cry again. “I left the dressing room, because I didn’t want you guys to see me like this. But, the song just made me feel even worse….”

“Sssh, it’s okay,” you soothed him, pulling him into a hug. He buried his head in your shoulder. “Frankie, you’ve got eyeliner all over your face. Let me take you back to the dressing room, and get you cleaned up, okay?”

“....O-Okay,” Frank sniffled, his voice muffled against your jacket.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“....Where did the others go?” Frank wondered, as you reentered the back room.

“I think they said, they were going to go hang out with Mindless Self Indulgence,” you recalled. You grabbed your box of makeup wipes, off the vanity. “Will you come here, please?”

Frank walked over, and sat on the stool, by the mirror. You grabbed a wipe out of the pack, and gently began to wipe at his face. The black tire tracks were all over his cheeks. How long was he crying, you wondered, before I found him out there?

“I look like shit,” Frank said glumly. “I’m pathetic…”

“You’re not pathetic,” you assured him, wiping the last of the makeup away. “Look - you’re all better now.”

“Thanks,” Frank sighed. “I’m glad it was you, at least, who caught me crying like a girl, and not Gerard, or Ray.”

“I doubt that they would have made fun of you for it,” you pointed out.

“I know they wouldn’t,” Frank shrugged. “But….fuck, Y/N. I’m a mess.”

You pulled him into another hug, and he just sat there for a second, clinging to you for comfort. He smelled like sweat and cigarette smoke. That shouldn’t have been an attractive combination - but, you found yourself inhaling it deeply.

“....You know my friend Shaun, right?” Frank said, pulling away at last.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “He’s from the same hometown as you, right?”

“Right,” Frank explained. “So, I got a text from him, right when we came offstage, earlier. He went to the drive-in movie theater, in Newark, tonight, to see the new Halloween remake.”

“And, then what happened?” you asked.

“He looked at the next car over,” Frank went on, “and that’s when he saw her! He sent me a picture.”

Frank fumbled in his pocket, for his cell phone. He flipped it open, and held it up to you, so you could view Shaun’s picture message. The image was grainy, but you could clearly make out the face of Frank’s girlfriend. She was passionately kissing a man in the passenger’s seat.

“Oh my god!” your eyes widened, as you stared at the evidence. “Who the hell is he?”

“I don’t know,” Frank said miserably, “but he sure as hell ain’t me.”

“So, she’s macking on some other guy, while you’re away, on tour?!” you realized. “Frank….I’m so sorry….”

“How could she do this to me?” Frank sobbed. “Why wasn’t I good enough for her?”

“Hey, hey - you’re good enough,” you assured him, holding him again. “She’s the one, who doesn’t deserve you.”

Frank jerked away from you, grabbing for his phone again.

“.....Should I call her?” he asked hesitantly. “Should I tell her that I know what she did?”

“Yeah, I think you should confront her about it directly,” you advised. “I mean, it’s clear as day.”

“This is the type of conversation that I would prefer to have face to face,” Frank frowned.

“Yeah, but we won’t be home for another two weeks,” you reminded him. “You can’t just ignore it, until then.”

“The tour was almost over, damnit,” Frank swore. “I….I was really looking forward to seeing her when I got back, and spending more time with her. Now...it’s like, I’m not sure, if I ever want to see her again.”

“Then, tell her that,” you urged him. “I’ll be right here, by your side, okay?”

“Thanks, Y/N,” Frank said softly, taking your hand, as he dialed her number. You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, as the phone rang.

“Hi, Frankie!” said an oblivious voice, when she picked up. “How are you, baby?”

“Don’t baby me,” Frank snapped. “I know what you did!”

“What are you talking about, sweetie?” the whore asked innocently.

“Shaun saw you at the movies, you two-timing trash!” Frank scowled. “How….how could you?!”

“Oh, yeah, I went to the movies, with my cousin,” she lied.

“Oh, really?” Frank scoffed. “You like to stick your tongue in your cousin’s mouth?”

“Shaun needs to learn that snitches get stitches!” she snapped. “Fine, he ain’t my cousin. But, he didn’t mean anything to me, Frankie, honest. You’re my number one.”

“If I’m not your one and only, I don’t want to be jack shit to you!” Frank cried.

“What, so, you’re breaking up with me?” his girlfriend asked. “Come on….please forgive me, baby! I swear it won’t happen again!”

“Yeah, it will,” Frank said miserably. “People like you never change....I thought I could trust you. But, this is what you do, behind my back?!”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t go disappearing, for months at a time, then!” the girlfriend screamed back at him. “A girl’s got needs!”

“All I need,” Frank growled, “is for you to lose my number - you and I are through!”

He hurled at the phone at the wall, in a fit of rage. The screen shattered, when it made impact with the cement.

“Fuck!” Frank cried. “Fuck, I’m so stupid!”

“It’s okay,” you said quickly, “Screens are easy to fix. We can probably take it to a repair shop tomorrow, before we get back on the tour bus, and move on to the next city. Or, we could just get you a whole new phone…”

“I don’t care about the phone,” Frank said, sinking to the floor. “Just..leave it.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, already handing it back to him.

“Yeah, just set it down,” Frank said, putting his head in his hands. “I….I’m stupid, for trusting her. I thought she really loved me.”

You put the phone on the counter, and sat down beside him.

“Frank, I’m so sorry that she did this to you,” you said sincerely, putting an arm around him. “You don’t deserve it.”

“What if I do, though?” he said sadly, letting his head slump against your shoulder. “I mean, she’s right. I’m never at home.”

“She knew what you did for a living, when she decided to date you,” you reminded him. “You’re a musician. You’re going to tour a lot. There’s nothing that you can do about that.”

“But, when I was home, I was good to her,” Frank sniffled. “I worked so hard, to show her that I cared. When the album went platinum, I even bought her a car.”

“And she chose to screw some other guy, in the backseat?” you spat, revolted. “She really is a whore, Frank. She was probably just after your money, in the first place.”

“.....You don’t think she ever loved me, at all?” Frank asked. The thought seemed to make him even more depressed. Tears began to well up in his eyes again.

“...Fuck,” you swore, realizing you’d inadvertently twisted the knife. “Fuck, Frank, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

He started wiping his eyes on his sleeves again.

“Here,” you offered, pulling a handkerchief from your pocket. “Use this instead.”

“....Thanks, Y/N,” Frank said, taking it, and blowing his nose. “Thank you for being here for me, for that….breakup call. Fuck….it’s really over…..”

“It is,” you nodded, “But, that’s probably for the best. You don’t want to be, with a person who treats you that way.”

Without warning. Frank dove into your lap, burying his face into your shirt, as he began to cry harder. You held him tight, and gently stroked his dark hair.

“.....What if nobody else ever wants me?” he sobbed. “Why aren’t I lovable?”

“You’re lovable,” you whispered into his ear. “Frankie, any girl would be lucky to have you!”

The truth was, you’d had a crush on him, for the longest time. But, you knew he was already taken, so you’d never acted on these feelings. You told yourself, you were fine just being friends. Secretly, you’d been so jealous of his girlfriend...but, you thought he was happy with her. You didn’t want to mess that up for him.

But, tonight, you considered, she messed it up, all on her own. Now..he’s a single man….

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better, Y/N,” Frank frowned. “The truth is….I’m nothing special.”

“That’s not true at all!” you insisted. “You’re an amazingly talented guitarist….you’re a kind person, and you’re fun to be around. You’re honest, and loyal, and….and, god, you’re so handsome….”

“I’m handsome?” Frank repeated. He picked his head up, and looked you in the eyes.

“Yeah,” you nodded, blushing. “Your hair looks so good, since you started growing it out. And I love the tank top you wore onstage tonight….it shows off the tattoos, on those muscley arms. When you started licking the microphone….I swear to god, I almost dropped my sticks.”

“Really?” Frank chuckled. It was the first time that you had seen him smile, all evening. “You thought it was sexy?”

“Yeah….,” you breathed. “I think you’re sexy, Frank. I always have. If I had you….I would never dream of kissing anyone else.”

“Then, have me,” Frank whispered. He leaned in, and closed the distance between you. You tasted the salt, of the tears, on his lips. And yet, the kiss was so sweet.

You pulled him closer, deepening the kiss, and winding your fingers into his hair. Was this real?

He pulled away after a moment, gasping for breath.

“Promise me,” he panted. “Promise me, you’ll never hurt me, like she did. Promise me you’ll always be true.”

“I promise,” you vowed. “Frankie, I’ve wanted you forever….I’ll be yours ‘til the end.”

This was exactly what he needed to hear. He crashed into you again, harder this time. You kissed him, and kissed him, until your lips felt sore. You would show him exactly how loved he was - even if took you all night long.

#frank iero x reader #frank iero imagine #band member reader #gothtober #i stayed up til 1 am writing this....fuck #sorry if it's incoherent lol

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ccwastaken · 4 years

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Jeff Gets Forcibly Adopted

A short story I wrote a while ago based around the mansion au. Warning for a fair few curse words.

Word count: 4160

"Fucking popcorn..." Jeff muttered to himself as he walked down the darkened street. He picked at his teeth using the kitchen knife he used for throat slitting and blood spilling. He grunted in frustration and dug the knife in harder. It slipped suddenly upwards and hit his top teeth. "AH- fuck-!" He sucked on his top lip for a moment. No blood- good.

He licked his teeth. The piece of popcorn was dislodged! Yay! He smiled in satisfaction and lowered his arm, then froze. He got that feeling again. Not the urge to kill- that was way different. It was the feeling of being watched.

He walked in a circle slowly, looking around confusedly. "Yo who the fuck is followin' me?" He called out.

"You have no need to be afraid." The voice that replied was deep and elegant sounding. Jeff stiffened in surprise. He wasn't expecting a reply. "I've been following you for a while, Jeff. I was hoping you'd come here."

"That's really fuckin' creepy, Mr stalker man." Jeff replied. There was a soft chuckle.

"Well if I were to approach you directly you'd attack me, wouldn't you Jeff?"

"How do ya know my name?" The boy snarled back.

"Everyone knows your name, Jeff. You're a murderer. You're in the papers."

Jeff glanced around suspiciously. "Where even are you?" He asked.

"Drop the weapon and I'll let you see me."

Jeff arched a brow. He looked down at the knife in his hand, then dropped it. He stuffed his hand into his hoodie pocket and curled his hand around the handle of his second backup knife. It was duller, but would do the job. "Aight, c'mon out Mr I-Stalk-Fifteen-Year-Olds." He called.

It was still for a moment, then he saw movement. The tree standing in one of the yards down the street suddenly moved. The branches moved like arms and legs until Jeff realized it wasn't a tree at all. Out stepped an incredibly tall creature. It wore a pristine black suit and had pale white skin. And absolutely no face to speak of.

"What the fu..." Was all Jeff could mumble as he stared. He stared in disbelief.

"You may know me. They call me The Slender Man." The creature spoke. "I'm known for stealing children away. For bringing them to the woods, never to be seen again." Jeff backed away. "That's a lie, of course. I don't steal children, I take them in and help them. And they are seen again in fact." The creature tilted its head at Jeff. "I understand if you're freaked out."

"I-" Jeff gulped. "What- what in the sweet fuck-" was all he could bring himself to say. Slenderman stepped a little closer and held out a hand.

"I mean you no harm. I'd like to help you, Jeff. You'll have a roof over your head, warm meals, clean clothes," Jeff looked up at him. "A family, of sorts."

Jeff stared at the outstretched hand for a few seconds. Slender was- actually surprised. He thought it'd be harder to convince this boy.

And then Jeff yanked out his knife and slashed at Slender's wrist. He stumbled back and hissed in pain. The cut wasn't deep, and definitely wouldn't kill him- he doubted anything this boy had could kill him, but still.

Jeff lunged himself at Slender, knife poised to sink straight into the creature's abdomen. Slender moved quickly to the side. Jeff stumbled forward and managed to whirl himself around. He stumbled back, barely managing to not fall. He glared at Slender and ran at him again. He lunged again and-

He was suspended in the air. Jeff looked up in surprise and realised why. The Slender Man had grabbed him with a black tendril, which was wrapped around his midsection. Jeff tried to slash at the tendril holding him, only for a second one to grab his wrist, restraining him.

"Fighting won't help either of us." Slenderman said. "I have no wish to hurt you, and killing me is impossible."

"I don't want your help." Jeff snarled. He struggled in vain against the tendrils. Slender moved him so he was being held the right way up.

"Yes but you need it. And I think you'd like it, among other people." Slenderman replied, his hand over the cut in his wrist. Jeff glared at him. "When was the last time you put on clean clothes?" He asked.

Jeff frowned. "Why does that matter?"

"It doesn't, I'm just assuming you'd like to have a wardrobe of clothes that aren't bloody and don't stink of death."

Jeff glared at the monster holding him. "You're a dick." He growled. Slender might've smiled in amusement if he had a mouth. He turned and walked down the yard he stood beside. He stepped over the small gate at the side, then over the one in the backyard, into the woods. Jeff struggled behind him. "HEY! HEY PUT ME DOWN!"

Slenderman ignored him.

Jeff stared at the disappearing neighborhood and began to panic. This creature was supposed to steal kids, right? Was that what was happening? Was he being fucking kidnapped? He struggled and kicked against nothing. Was this thing going to kill him? Oh- oh no he was going to die wasn't he?

He tried to pull the tendril around his waist off, but it didn't work. He knew it wouldn't but it was still worth a try. Another tendril grabbed his free wrist, restraining that hand too. He bit down on his bottom lip, trying to calm his panicked breathing.

He wasn't held for very long. Only ten, maybe less, minutes. He was set down. His knife was pulled out of his hand and one of his wrists was released. He turned around to Slenderman, still visibly panicked. Out the corner of his eye he noticed light, and a building of some kind.

"I'm sorry for forcibly taking you-" Slender's deep, elegant voice was softer now, more gentle. "I usually try to convince people but- I knew I wasn't going to get anywhere with you."

Slender gestured to the building in front of them. It was gigantic- practically a mansion. Jeff stared. The light coming from the windows looked warm and welcoming. The door even had a welcome sign on it. He was still scared as all hell but- the place looked...homey. Like someone could actually live here. He gulped as Slender stepped towards the door and opened it. The tendril around his wrist tugged him gently, and he stepped forward slowly.

Slender was already talking to someone when Jeff crossed the threshold. "You need sleep Ben. And you shouldn't be letting him stay up so late, Jack." Jeff hid himself behind the cryptid's long legs and merely listened.

"Ah it doesn't 'urt 'im, slend. 'Sides, 'e's showin' me somethin' in 'is game!" The voice that replied had the thickest British accent Jeff had ever heard. It was kind of gravelly too, but the inflections sounded like the person was usually very bubbly. The kind of person who smiled a lot and liked to laugh.

"Yeah!" The voice that replied was more American sounding, and way younger. "There's this glitch that'll-"

"I don't want to hear it. It's way past your bedtime." Slender replied. The younger voice groaned. Slender looked behind himself, down at Jeff. "Oh- actually Ben, wait. I want you to meet someone."

Jeff tensed as Slender stepped aside and very, very gently pushed him forward into the view of the other two. He registered the sound of the door closing behind him.

In front of him was a large living room with two comfy looking couches and plenty of chairs. There were actually three people in the living room. The first was a- a mime? Possibly a clown? He had black hair, a striped cone nose, suspenders, puffy, striped sleeves and feathers on both his shoulders. He was entirely black and white. The second was a boy around his age with blonde hair and abnormally bright, blue eyes. He wore a green sweatshirt with blue jeans and held a game controller in his hands. He sat cross-legged on the opposite side of the couch from the mime. The last was a kid, probably older than him, who was lounged out sideways on one of the armchairs. He was dressed fairly casual. A grey hoodie, blue jeans and sneakers. What was abnormal was his grey skin, claws, fangs, oh and the fucking three tongues hanging out of his mouth as he snored.

"This is Jeff. He's around your age, Ben." Slender said. The boy - Ben, waved over at Jeff.

"Hi." He greeted. He smiled, then looked up at Slender. His smile dropped. "A-Are you hurt?"

The goofy smile that was on the mime's face dropped and he looked over at Slender too. He didn't look worried, more- curious?

"It's nothing serious, don't worry. It's my fault in all honesty I should've assumed Jeff would have a backup weapon hidden away somewhere." Jeff shoved his hands into his pockets as Slender spoke. These two seemed to look up to Slender, right? So presumably, hurting him made Jeff public enemy number one. Great.

He was definitely leaving as soon as possible.

He was snapped back to his thoughts by the thick British accent again. "Feisty young'n, eh?" Jeff looked up. The mime had somehow moved over to him in seconds without Jeff even noticing. He stepped back in surprise, then realised the mime was still on the couch.

"Jack, you'll freak him out doing that." Slender scolded. Did this thing treat everyone in this house like a kid? Weirdo. The mime's face moved away, and Jeff realised the mime, presumably called Jack, had an extendable neck. Not weird at all.

"Eh, 'e's no pansy I'm sure." Jack shifted on the couch and lay down, crossing his legs. His head flopped over the arm of the chair. "No' wiv a face like tha'." He winked at Jeff, who glared back at him.

"Be nice." Slender hissed back. He looked over at Ben. "Now you, bed."

"But can't I-"

"No, Ben. You're a growing boy. You need to rest."

Ben groaned and turned off his game. He got up and moved over, shutting off his console. As he walked past Jeff towards the stairs he gave him a look of distrust. Jeff watched him go.

Slender walked past Jeff and through another door next to the couch where Jack lay. Jeff opened his mouth to ask Slender if he should follow, then closed it. He didn't want to seem like a needy child or anything- he needed to be tough, establish that he wasn't a wimp. So, instead, he leaned against the nearest wall, crossed his arms, and busied himself with looking around idly.

There wasn't much. The place looked- well, like a normal house. Extremely big, but normal. Jeff frowned at the photos on the walls. There were more kids. Slender and Jack were in quite a few. Ben was in a couple. The grey three tongued boy appeared often too.

"So, Jeff." Jack interrupted Jeff's thoughts. He looked at the monochrome brit. "Wha's yer story then? Dead? Immor'al? Murderer?" Jeff opened his mouth to reply but was cut off. "Oooh maybe ye're a ghost tha' go' murdered an' now ye're a murderer!" His black and white eyes shone with excitement. "Tha'd explain yer face."

"...I'm alive. And human." Jeff replied.

"Ah-" Jack looked at him. "Then I guess I go'a...face the fact that ye're just normal, eh?"

Jack stared at him, waiting for a response of any kind. When he didn't get one he frowned. "Ah, c'mon, tha' was bloody hilarious!"

"At least I'm not the one with the striped nose." Jeff responded coldly. Jack stared at him in horror.

Slender emerged from the kitchen, with bandages wrapped around his injured wrist. He looked down at Jack.

"What are you pouting about, LJ?" He asked with a sigh.

"'E insulted me nose..." Jack muttered back. He curled up, his arms crossed as he sulked. Slender would've rolled his eyes if he had any. He looked over at Jeff.

"Follow me." He said. As he walked towards the stairs, completely ignoring the unhappy British mime pouting on his couch. Jeff didn't spare Jack a glance as he followed the giant faceless cryptid. They turned right and stopped at a door at the end of the hall. Slender pushed it open and ducked inside. Jeff followed.

It was a bedroom. A simple one. Wooden floorboards, maroon walls and simple wood furniture. The bed was big with clean white sheets and soft looking pillows. Jeff looked around, confused. Slender looked at him.

"We'll get you more things as time goes by," he said. "Hopefully it'll work for now?"

Jeff looked at him, surprised. He got his own room? "Uh- yeah. It's fine." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and glanced around.

"Good." Slenderman grabbed something from the bed and held it out to Jeff. "There's a bathroom just across the hall. You'll be sharing it with Ben and Toby. Is that okay?"

"Uh- yeah." Jeff took what Slender was holding out - a towel and clean clothes. Jeff frowned.

"After you shower come down to the kitchen, okay?" Slender said. "Do you want something to eat? Are you hungry?"

Jeff looked up at Slender in thought. It- had been a while since he'd eaten something that wasn't snack foods or ready made meals. "Yeah- yeah food would- food sounds good." He glanced away. Slender seemed to smile despite his lack of mouth.

"Good!" He moved past Jeff. "Oh and put your clothes in the laundry basket."

And with that, Jeff was left alone. He waited a bit for something to happen, but nothing did, so he left the room. There was one door across the hall. Jeff walked over, opened it, and stepped inside.

The bathroom was fucking huge. Half of the left wall was just bath tub. It looked big enough for maybe three people. Pretty deep too. "Jesus this place is fancy." Jeff muttered as he locked the door behind himself and took the room in. There was no windows, so he couldn't exactly escape. Not that he wanted to. Not yet. He'd at least shower and eat first.

Jeff wasn't concerned with really cleaning himself, though he definitely would make use of the fancy looking body wash on the shower shelf. He turned on the hot water and sighed contentedly. The whole on the run and homeless thing kinda made it hard to enjoy a nice hot shower. He sat down on the floor of the tub and curled up, just enjoying the warmth. He must've lost track of time because there was a knock on the bathroom door. He looked up.

"Jeff? You okay in there?" It was Slender.

"Uh- yeah."

"Ah- alright. I don't want to rush you but try to hurry up, okay? Your food will go cold."

"Aight." Jeff called back as he stood up. He grabbed the body wash and cleaned himself off quickly. Then he grabbed the shampoo and conditioner and did his best to clean up his hair. It wasn't much, and his long black hair was horribly knotted and tangled, but at least he tried.

After stepping out of the shower he checked in the mirror to make sure his black hair dye hadn't washed itself out yet, then put on the clothes he'd been giving. Fluffy black and white socks, black boxers, striped pyjamas, also black and white, along with a long sleeved white shirt with three large Zs embroidered onto it.

...pyjamas.

Fine- they were comfy, so he'd put up with it. After depositing his old clothes into the laundry Jeff stepped out of the bathroom and looked around. He hadn't been able to take the place in before. The door closest to his was covered in stickers of all kinds. Jeff brushed over them, instead focusing his attention on a white sign on the door. It simply read "Beware: Dumbass moron ahead." In black lettering. Jeff looked at the door beside it. It was painted green and had three yellow triangles on it. Underneath were some letters that read "Ben".

He walked down the hall and looked at the other doors he passed. One was painted red and white with the words "Laughing Jack" on it, and the other, directly in front of the stairs, had vines on it, decorated with different coloured flowers. Past that was a pink door with "Sally" on it and a blue one with black drips painted on. Huh.

Jeff walked down the stairs slowly, taking the place in again. The house was as quiet as the dead, save for the quiet snoring of the three tongued creature sleeping in the living room. As Jeff tiptoed closer to the kitchen he could hear the thick British accent again. He paused and pressed his ear against the door.

"Ye shouldn' 'ave underestimated 'im."

"Yes I know- quite the clever boy, honestly. He's very capable too. He shows promise."

"Ye talk abou' kids like they're projects."

"Perhaps." There was a pause. "He's been alone for two years you know. He's probably on edge, being in a domestic setting again."

"Maybe." He heard someone sipping something.

Once it was quiet again Jeff pushed the door open slowly and peeked in. Jack and Slender looked up at him as he stepped into the kitchen. "Uh-" Jeff began before he was cut off.

"Ah! There you are." Slender chirped in greeting. His happy demeanor was- unnerving. You'd think his very existence would be horrifying but he was nothing but pleasant. "Take a seat. I made soup, is that okay?"

"Uh- yeah." All of this felt weird. Really weird. Jeff walked over and sat in the chair Jack pulled out for him. A black tendril placed a mug in front of him. The liquid in it was a white-ish yellow colour. Jeff arched a brow.

"It's real good. Try i'." Jack said next to him. Jeff took the warm mug and sipped from it. The liquid was thick and warm. It was milky and sweet and soothed his throat as he swallowed.

Oh. Oh wow. Whatever this was it was delicious. Jeff chugged back maybe half the mug then put it down with a satisfied sigh. Jack chuckled next to him, which made him tense. He pushed the mug away and sat up, folding his arms on the kitchen table and looking disinterested again. "Yeah it's- it's nice."

Jack laughed louder that time. "Ah 'e's a fine lad, Slender." He said loudly in between laughs. Slender chuckled to himself and set a bowl of soup in front of Jeff.

"I'm glad you like it. I didn't know if you'd like tea or not and- well cocoa would just keep you up so-"

"'E's thankful, Slender." Jack interrupted.

"I know I know-"

Jeff grabbed the spoon he'd been given and ate the soup silently as Slender sat down again. It was quiet for a bit until Slender spoke up. "So- Jeff," the boy looked up from his meal. "There's a few things you should know about living here." Jeff tilted his head as Slender spoke. "Besides me, Jack and Ben there's a few others here. There's Sally, Toby and- well another Jack. He's the one sleeping on the chair inside."

Jeff nodded. He didn't plan on staying here long but- it'd be worth it to listen.

"They might be frightening at first but they're all harmless. Sally is a little younger, so be nice around her. We have homeschooling four days a week and clean the house on Sundays." Slender looked at him for a response.

"...uh-huh?"

Slender didn't seem to have planned a response to that. He cleared the throat he may or may not have had. "Is there any way we can make you more comfortable here?" Jeff shrugged. "Any allergies?" Jeff shook his head. "Maybe you-"

"Slender, 'e doesn' wanna talk." Jack cut in. "Let him eat up and sleep." The mime looked at Jeff. "We'll figure i' all ou' in th' mornin', yeah?"

Jeff nodded. Jack smiled and looked back at Slender, who sighed quietly. "You're right. My apologies." He said. "Though after you're finished eating there's a couple other things I'd like to do, then you can sleep."

"Okay." Was all Jeff responded with, along with another nod. It was relatively quiet as he ate, though Jack tried to start a conversation a couple times, Slender never really let it go anywhere. "Uh- I'm finished." Jeff said after a bit.

"Ah! Good." Slender stood up. "Jack, clean up his dishes for me will you?" He asked as he left. Jack sighed and grabbed Jeff's bowl and mug. His arm stretched over and placed them beside the sink. The mime sighed tiredly and rested his head on his now normally proportioned arms. Jeff wanted to say something but- couldn't think of anything, so they sat in awkward silence until Slender came back.

He placed several bottles that rattled as they were placed down, and a spray bottle, on the table. Slender pulled out Jeff's chair.

"Can you turn around for me?" He asked. Jeff arched. Brow but did as he was told, his back facing Slender.

And then he realized what was going on. A hairbrush was dragged through his damp, knotted hair. Jeff hissed in pain. "Sorry, sorry," his hair was sprayed with something that smelled of apples and brushed again. Jeff winced. "I'm sorry I know it hurts I'm trying to be gentle-"

The hairbrush was pulled away. Jeff's breathing was shaky as he relaxed slightly. He heard a snipping noise and moved quickly to his feet.

"Jeff-"

"YOU'RE CUTTING IT?!"

Slender seemed to wince. "It's knotted really badly- I won't make it too short."

"No- no you can't-" Jeff stared at him, suddenly panicky. Slender lowered the scissors he was holding.

"How about you show me how long you'd like it? Would you like that?" He asked softly. Jeff stared for a few moments. His breathing slowed and he relaxed.

"...okay." he murmured. Jeff slowly sat down again. He reached up and grabbed a piece of his hair. "Just about there?" He asked nervously. Slender nodded.

"Alright."

Jack watched Jeff as Slender cut his hair. The boy stared at the floor and gripped onto the edge of the chair tightly. The mime frowned and reached into his puffy sleeve, pulling out some candy. "'Ere kid, ye want some?"

Jeff looked up a bit and slowly took one of the candies, a butterscotch and unwrapped it. He tossed it into his mouth. He mumbled a "thank you." and continued staring at the ground.

It took maybe half an hour for Slender to cut, brush and style Jeff's hair back to something decent. A mirror was held down in front of him. "How does it look?"

Jeff looked up and stared at himself. He- it actually- looked nice. His hair hadn't looked this good since...before he'd- y'know- killed his parents. It was a little longer now, but it looked the same as it did then. "It- it's nice."

Slender would've smiled had he a mouth. "Good!" The mirror was pulled away. "Can you look up for me?" Jeff craned his neck upwards at Slender, who was holding a small white bottle. "I'm just going to give you eye drops, okay?"

Jeff didn't protest, though he did flinch as the drops hit his eyes. He looked back down. Wow- wow those felt great- his eyes always felt like they were burning and just- generally not great, but those drops seemed to work wonders. He smiled a bit. Jack noticed this and looked up and Slender, flashing him a toothy grin.

"One last thing before you sleep, Jeff." Slender said. Jeff looked up at him. The faceless cryptid held out a glass of water in one tendril, and a handful of pills. "Just some vitamins to make you stronger and such."

Jeff took the pills and water and hesitated. Taking pills from a stranger was dumb- even Jeff knew that but- Slender was so caring- more caring than Jeff's own parents had been.

He took a swig of the water and tossed the pills into his mouth. He gagged as he swallowed them, then sipped the water some more. "...thank you." He murmured. Slender patted the boy's head.

"You're probably exhausted," he said. "Why don't you go to bed?"

Jeff nodded and stood up. He looked at Jack for a moment, then Slender. "...gnight." was all he could think to say, though he wanted to say something more- well, meaningful. He left the kitchen, walked upstairs and shuffled into his room. His door looked extremely bare compared to the others. He padded over to his bed, lay down, and buried his face in his pillow.

He was asleep in minutes.

#creepypasta #jeff the killer #slenderman #Laughing jack #ben drowned #slender mansion #writing

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jarvisisbetterthansiri · 4 years

Text

Twist it Deeper

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word count: 1788 Description: Bucky wants to tie you up and play with you using his favourite toy (his knife) Warnings: *NSFW* Knife play, blood play, rope tied, swearing, rough sex, dirty talk ~ dom!Bucky + knife kink

A/N: This is another re-upload from my other tumblr

---

You’re laying on the bed in your room, inconspicuous clothing from your night activities discarded on the floor, naked apart from the crusting blood and dirt clinging to your skin. Once cream sheets would surely be filthy by the end of the night, but somehow, you can’t bring yourself to care. Especially not when you’re watching him stripping in front of you.

He’s shirtless, rippling muscles on display with the startling contrast of his mechanic arm. His dark hair is loose, covering one side of his face, and he’s wearing leather pants that don’t hide a damn thing. You stare unabashedly at the outline of his cock, squeezing your thighs together already.

If you’d been told a few months ago that you’d be fucking the Winter Soldier, you would’ve scoffed.

But he knew it the first time he saw you; bloody nosed, black eyed, tattered clothes, but still laughing scathingly at the men in front of you. You’d beaten Bucky to a gang of drug dealers he was tracking, and he’d almost stepped in until he saw you pull out a baseball bat (basic, but hey, you were no Avenger) and beat the shit out of the lowlifes.

He approached you then, and it wasn’t long before he was dragging you into a nearby alley, ripping off the remains of your clothing, and ravishing you.

Since then, you’d found yourself bumping into the Avenger more and more. Not that you were complaining. You couldn’t complain when he has you pressed into your bed, fondling you eagerly as ever.

His hand is on your breasts, cold metal touching hot skin, and he moves his lips lower, tugging a nipple between his teeth as he pinches your other breast, his fingers rough. He moves back up your body, one frustratingly light kiss pressed to your mouth before he breathes against your ear, and whispers, "I wanna tie you up."

"What?" you ask, too intoxicated with lust to pay attention.

He pulls away, intense blue eyes staring into your own, and repeats, "I wanna tie you up."

Bucky, of course, doesn’t miss the way you hesitate, gaze faltering from his face, and he looks almost deflated, “Don’t you trust me, doll?”

“I do,” you reply, and it’s true. Despite every nerve in your body screaming for you to fear the 6ft tall super soldier standing in your room, you’d come to trust him with your life over the few months of knowing him. And by knowing him, you meant fucking him.

His face perks up again. "So, can I tie you up?

"Why do you want to?" You ask, still a little apprehensive.

"It’d be hot."

You have to agree. It would definitely be hot. Anything Bucky did was hot.

He snakes a hand into your hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling it tight. "I wanna see you like that," he admits, lips fervently pressed against your neck, "all tied up and helpless. Just have to take what I give you."

You let out a whine as he sinks his teeth into your neck, hard enough to leave a mark, and you can feel your resolve slowly slipping away. "So, what do you usually do to girls when you have them all tied up?"

“Don’t usually tie girls up,” he pulls away to give you a mocking grin. “Just you, doll.”

And god, he’s such an ass, but he’s so hot. He knew just how to turn you on, tease you, and fuck you better than you’d even thought possible. So, why not give him control for a night?

“Okay, you can tie me up,” you sigh, desire already pooling in your stomach at the way his eyes immediately light up.

He flashes his teeth at you, pulling out a piece of rope from his pocket, and you wonder what he has planned that he actually came prepared to tie you up. You’d be lying if you said the idea wasn’t slightly intimidating. But you did trust him, so you lie back, stretching your arms above your head.

Bucky quickly straddles you, his weight pinning you to the mattress. The way he loops the rope around your wrist is effortless, and you can’t help but think he was lying about not tying any other girls up. Or maybe he tied people up to torture them, a darker voice in your head says.

You don’t have time to think about that for long though, not when Bucky is reaching into one of the many pockets of his pants for something. He pulls out the object, good hand curling around it protectively.

It catches the bedroom light and you see the flash of metal before you hear the swift, efficient click of the mechanism. Your breath catches in your throat as you take in sight of the knife, gleaming, sharp and silver like a threat, hanging unspoken in the air.

Bucky watches you tentatively, fighting a smile from his face when you remain silent, wide eyes darting to his questioningly. You were too trusting, too unguarded, around him. Not many people would trust an assassin like him, but fuck if it didn’t turn him on.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he rasped, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He paused then, restating, “..much.”

Still, you don’t protest, even when he lowers the blade, point first to your neck. You gasp when it touches your skin, pulse raising, eyes flinching closed, anticipating a sharp pain. To your surprise, the metal doesn’t touch you.

“Don’t close your eyes,” Bucky orders, needing the intimacy of the simple connection, letting the knife hover above your neck, just barely grazing the flesh.

You immediately open them, obeying him effortlessly.

It would be so easy for him to thrust it into you. You were completely at his mercy, and there’s a wave of arousal that floods through your body at that thought. It was becoming dangerous, the effect he had on you.

He drags the knife down the valley of your breasts almost lazily, keeping it at an angle precise enough that it’s only scraping at your flesh, not enough to cut or bleed, but enough that you’re shivering with desire.

The metal ignites a fire in its path, and by the time Bucky lifts it, you’re red-faced and needy for his touch.

“Should I leave a mark here,” he presses the blade flat against your stiffening nipple, applying enough pressure to make a dent but not draw blood. You fight the urge to arch your back in pleasure, instead clenching your fists around the rope, scared to even exhale as he moves the other breast, “Or here?”

You see him take a deep breath, and he shifts on the bed, adjusting his cock inside his pants. He’s getting off on this, on you submitting to him, you realise.

Bucky continues trailing the knife down the centre of your stomach, and you watch in anticipation, breathless at the sight. He moves to the flesh of your hip bone, feeling for the point where your bone juts out the most.

“Stay still,” he teases, “Or I might...slip.”

You whine when he flicks the blade carefully, just nicking the skin. A bead of red forms at the cut, and the soldier eagerly dips his head down, licking a stripe from the inside of your thigh to where the blood is.

The sensation of his tongue against the cut makes you hiss, and he lifts up his head, smiling in the most predatory way, “Oh, did that hurt?”

“Bucky,” you moan, wanting, no, needing for him to stop teasing you and offer you some sort of release.

He seems to take the hint, snaking his good hand between your legs and dipping a finger into your entrance, probing. No doubt his finger comes away soaking, and you eagerly buck your hips, trying for more contact.

“Maybe I’ll leave you some pretty marks,” Bucky bites his lip, groaning. “Pretty marks for a pretty girl.”

You can feel him trace the letters on the inner side of your thighs. ‘BUCKY’ on one leg, ‘BARNES’ on the other. You shudder at his touch, and at the thought of it, being owned, marked by him.

His metal hand grabs your chin, tilting your head to face him and you swallow thickly. His eyes are darkened with arousal, and he looks almost as desperate as you, “Would you let me?”

Whimpering, you nod, almost unable to speak for the burning desire pumping through your body. He inhales sharply, moving up to place a hot, brutal kiss on your lips, discarding the knife on the floor.

It’s bruising, passionate, needy, tongues and teeth clashing against each other. He fumbles to free his cock from his pants, not once leaving your mouth. He runs his length up and down your slit, getting it wet enough, and you whine into his open mouth.

Bucky takes his lips from yours, only to place them on your neck, sucking hard enough to mark, and muttering, “So fucking hot,” against your skin.

He sheaths himself in you with little warning, making you gasp at the fullness, and he's barely started to thrust before you're coming, clenching around him, already wound up from his teasing. You ache to touch him, but the rope restricts you, so you opt for wrapping your legs around him, angling your hips to take him deeper, harder as he fucks you through and beyond your orgasm.

“Fuck Bucky, you’re so good, oh god,” you babble, almost sobbing at the raw throbbing of your cunt. You felt more full than ever before.

Bucky grunts, fingers finding the nick from earlier and digging into it, making you cry out.

“Say my name,” he moans, almost pleading, and you can’t deny him.

“Bucky,” you’re breathless, another orgasm shuddering through you.

“Louder,” he manages to get out, thrusts becoming sloppy, and you can tell he’s close.

“Bucky!” you whine, this time louder, and he’s coming too, with harsh, panted-out breaths, his body stiffening against you, peaking and releasing.

He remains still for a moment, staying on top of you, and you hear his breathing begin to slow, his hands on your face, thumbs wiping away any tears that spilled onto your cheekbones, “You okay, doll?”

You nod weakly, exhaustion falling on you quickly. Still, there’s a smile tugging on your lips at the way he can switch from being so commanding and filthy, to being sweet and checking up on you.

It was becoming worrisome - the relationship you were falling into with the former assassin. But there’s nothing you can do but let it take you, let him take you, completely. So you close your eyes, and let sleep engulf you.

#winter soldier #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier smut #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky x reader #avengers #avengers imagine #avengers smut #knifeplay

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notyetneedcoffee · 4 years

Text

Moving Parts, 3

Part Three

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Graphic Violence

oooo

Steve shifted in his chair, patience waning. Sun beat through the floor to ceiling windows to heat the back of his neck. His chair looked stylish but was about as comfortable as an off kilter bus top bench. The charcoal suit felt tighter now than it did at eight that morning. He fought back the urge to snatch the pen out of Senator Wallace’s hand. If the Congressman kept incessantly tapping it, he was going to snap it in half.

“I understand,” Cap forced a smile. “There are a lot of questions, and we do our best to provide answers. However, sir, I hope you can understand the myriad of factors taken into consideration during these battle cannot be adequately expressed in a report. We have training, protocols, and practices to mitigate risks, but in the moment, we can only make the best decision we can. There’s no time or opportunity to analyze details to extent that is done after the fact.”

“Are you suggesting we just trust you and the people within the Avengers because, what, you know best? Of course we are going review every aspect of these reports.” The Senator leaned forward, trying to take up more space, trying to dominate the conversation.

“I’m just asking that you consider the perspective…”

Wallace cut off Steve, continuing with his detailed criticism of the Avengers’ actions. Unfortunately, his phone vibrated for the sixth time in less than ten minutes. It’s been vibrating at increasing intervals for the last couple hours. The phone gave off a distinctive buzzing alarm.

“What is that?” The Senator paused, scowling at Steve breast pocket.

“Apologies, sir. There must be an emergency. Communications is breaking past the silent status on my phone. Excuse me.” Steve pulled the phone out of pocket, standing to face the window as he answered. “Rogers.”

“About fucking time. You need to look at your mail. Let me know what you're going to do. I leave in a half hour.” Bucky’s voice growled over the phone, his voice low and murderous. He didn’t wait for an answer, just hung up.

A frown pulled Steve’s brows together. He opened the email forwarded with a high importance and high security. He read, ‘You may violate the sovereignty of other organizations, but know that we will not tolerate acts of espionage or aggression towards our organization. We choose to keep to our kind. Be no bother to you. You should do the same. If you agree to cease all actions against us, we will return your operative. Do not and accept the consequences.’

He opened the attachment. His entire body locked up. You were tied to a chair, beaten and barely conscious. A male hand held today’s Wall Street Journal before the camera, allowing him to see the headline and date. In the background, someone clad in black hit you hard, causing you to moan. The whole clip was eight seconds.

“I have to go.” He stared at the phone.

“We’re not done here.” The Senator had stood up, apparently looking over Steve’s shoulder at the video.

“Yes, we are.” Cap turned around, rigid.

“Your time is scheduled with us. If there’s an emergency, other people can...”

“No.” He stepped forward. Wallace took a step back. “She is my priority.” Cap picked up his tablet and strode to the door. He keyed the phone, saying as soon as Bucky answered. “Tell me where. I’ll meet you.”

ooooo

Steve’s warm fingertips ghosted over the small of your back. Warm. You adored it. He would lay beside you tracing the curve of you ass, the dip of your lower back, along your spine all day if you let him. He touched you like a piece of art.

You stretched.

Pain shocked you out the dazed memory. It dumped you back into reality like an ice bath. Stabs of pain burned through your back, your shoulder. Everything hurt.

Taking a mental stock of yourself, you realized you were face down on a concrete floor. It was dark but for a sliver of light crossing your body from a slit of a window high on the wall. You moved muscles, flexed joints. Nothing felt broken. You tasted blood, your lip split open. You couldn’t see very well out of your left eye. You fought off the fog in your mind. The drugs. They’d drugged you again.

Moving slowly, you rolled over and sat up. They’d locked you in the same room as before. Your wrists were swollen and scabbed. You stomach rumbled.

You weren’t sure how long it’d been since the symphony. They gave you water, but you hadn’t touched the fry bread left on the plate by the door. It could not have been more than two days, maybe three. Getting up, you examined the room again. You never did find any electronics, no cameras or sensors.

A key entered the lock on the door. You threw yourself on the floor into the same position you awoke in. The door opened. You concentrated. A foot prodded your hip. You remained limp. A rough kick hit your side. The momentum rolled you over. You remained limp. A hand grabbed the front of your shirt. You attacked.

Moving by muscle memory, seeing the room in a blur, you locked his elbow joint and rolled. Your leg fell over his throat, holding him in an arm bar. You pulled his arm, kicked against the side of his throat, breaking his neck. Rolling to your feet, you breathed when you realize he was alone.

Rapidly searching the body, you found keys and a 9mm with only ten rounds left in the mag. It would do. You silently snuck out.

After a few minutes you heard gunfire. Making your way to an open window, you peered outside. You looked to be in some sort of old estate. A courtyard outside held three vehicles. Six men ran from a wing to your left toward the opposite wing.

Glass broke. A body fell from the second floor. Bullets shattered the windows to the right. Fighting men crashed against the now open window. The uniform and cowl unmistakable. You heart stopped. Steve was here. A flash of silver knocked the attacker away. Bucky.

Adrenaline cleared your head. Moving carefully, staying hidden, you crossed the courtyard and slipped into the open door. A body sprawled across the stairs. You pulled free his knife and checked his gun. Empty. Creeping up the stairs, you slipped behind a nervous guy holding back and watching the fight.

The sounds of the battle came clearly to your ears. They were under heavy fire but weren’t falling back like they should. They were taking a beating because they thought you were behind the assailants, maybe?

“Are you going to shoot her too?” A man shouted. “Shower the building with bullets, Sergeant, and kill her like you killed my grandmother!” More shots. Not Bucky’s. You knew the sound of his weapons. “My grandfather! My father! You murdered them.”

“Don’t know you.” Bucky shouted.

“You didn’t bother, neither of you!” The man’s crazed response came out hoarse. “Not back then!”

Looking above the man watching the battle in front of you, the gold gilded Nazi pediment surprised you. Great. Rushing forward, a hand to mouth and brutal stab of the knife to severe the spinal column at the base of his skull, and the man was down with little more noise than a thud.

Peeking around the corner showed a dozen combatants against Steve and Bucky. It looked like an old parlor or small ballroom. They were behind a stone column to you right. Three stood between you and them. The rest hid behind furniture and columns to your left.

Moving as fast as possible, you shot the two furthest from you as you blocked the blow from the nearest target. Going low, when he went high, and you dropped him with a single shot. Now hiding behind your own column, you glanced over.

Bucky’s eyes went soft. You were alive and fighting. He could breathe again.

Steve’s mouth hung open just a bit, for just a moment. Then he clenched his teeth, fury filling his face.

“Wha?” The man was cursing, screaming in German. “Kill them!”

“Do not fuck with my boys.” You growled, swinging your arm around to empty the remaining rounds. The boys attacked with full force, no long worried about where you were. Seconds later, everyone lay dead or unconscious.

The shield clanged to the floor just before strong arms pulled you in tight. Steve had pulled off his cowl, pressing his face into your hair. He smelled of sweat and gunpowder. You sighed against him. His hand held your head. Arm wrapped around your ribs.

“Thank god.” He breathed, lips pressing against your ear. “I was so... I love you. Are you okay?”

“Love you, too.” You whispered back. Bucky’s hand slid over your hair, your back. His eyes still scanned the area. Your hand found his. “And you.”

Bucky brought your joined hands to his lips. “Let’s get somewhere safe.”

“Yeah,” Steve stepped back, picking up his shield. “We’ll return to the quinjet, get you taken care of, and then we’ll mop up here.”

You followed them out. The jet lay beyond the gardens next to an outbuilding. No neighborhood or houses in sight. You must be on a really large estate. By the time you dropped onto the bench in the jet, the adrenaline was wearing off and everything hurt again. The drop and the pain brought silent tears to your eyes.

“Okay, Doll.” Bucky dropped his gear and pulled off his gloves. “Let’s look at you.”

Steve moved forward and locked down the jet, setting the sensors. He pulled the med kit out.

“I’m just going to cut this dress off, okay?” Bucky’s voice gently pulled your attention to yourself again, this time beyond bones and joints. You wore the evening gown, now tattered. No shoes. You nodded.

Moving with sure and gentle touches, they got you stripped down to just your panties. Steve traced his fingers over the bruised lines crossing your back. Bucky bandaged your wrists and applied salve to your lip. Your brain went fuzzy, exhausted.

“Sweetheart,” Steve choked, his nose ghosting over your shoulder. “Did any of them...” His voice trailed off. Bucky froze.

Numbly you shook your head. “Just the beatings.”

Bucky sighed before continuing. “Doll, let me see your feet.”

It didn’t even register. The soles were bloodied. He grabbed tweezers and started removing shards of glass. You leaned. Steve shifted and held your side against his chest, your face tucked under his chin. Your quiet tears ran down your face, dripping on to his chest, as you watched Bucky work. You felt numb, aware of the pain but apart from it.

He wrapped your feet. Then pulled out a soft thin blanket. Steve lifted you up, helping Bucky wrap it you. Steve put you down on the med bench, helping you lay down and get comfortable. “We’re going to give you something for the pain, okay sweetheart? You sleep while we take care of everything.”

“Don’t want to sleep.”

“Yeah, you do.” Steve placed soft kisses along your cheek, the corner of your mouth.

“No.” But your eyes were already closing.

“You’re safe, Doll.” Bucky’s soft lips kissed your fingers. “You rest.”

“Okay.” You sighed, drifting off. “I knew you’d come. You’re always there.”

Bucky tucked your arm in, just how you like to sleep. He looked up, seeing the pain and grief in Steve’s eyes. “Hey, she’s okay. We’ve got her.”

Steve’s eyes closed, a tear falling free. “She’s okay.” He repeated. His voice cracked, not more than a whisper. “You’ve got her.”

Before Bucky could respond, Steve scooped up his gear and hit the release for the quinjet’s ramp. He heard Steve’s command voice return. “Time to clean up the mess. I want to know who these people are, everything about them, all of it.”

With a last kiss to your hair, Bucky followed, sealing you up safely inside.

TAGS

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#bucky barnes x steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader #stucky x reader #stucky fanfic #stucky fic #stucky fanfiction

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tidal-wave56 · 3 years

Text

It started when he was younger. It came from his dad mostly. The times when they did talk he told him about when him and his mother met. How before he met her he was completely numb and immune to human feelings until he saw her and it felt like everything was so colorful. And what he did to make her his.

He was a kid and couldn't comprehend the things he did so his mother would fall in love with him. He grew up like that. He realized he was completely immune to others feelings.

But his father left out the part how his mother brought out the more damaged and psychotic part of him.

Her. Her. Her. Her. Her.

That's all that went through his head when he saw her. The most emotion he showed. He only ever really hung around with three others. But they never gave him a proper appeal. He gained nothing from them. He didn't seem to like them at all. He didn't. He just stood by them so nobody would pity or try and befriend him.

He was eye candy to everyone yes but he never paid any attention to that. It never gave him emotions. For his mother he tried. He did. But when she selfishly ended her pitiful self he just fell deeper into that hole.

When he was younger he wanted to be like the others. He tried. But trying isn't enough you had to feel.

He never hung with someone unless they benefited him. Nobody was an exception. Well. For her yes. She was the only exception. Only her.

He doesn't want the redhead that is obviously dropping hints and charming. Those rich girls? He only used them for the money and for inside info. Never wanted the girl or her body. He found it disgusting when they were a mess and begging for him when he hasn't even done a thing. At least don't try to jerk him off in class. He doesn't want you or any sexual intentions you have or want to give him. He snapped a girl's wrist. Of course he visited the hospital.

But no no. Not to apologize. Just to shake her up a bit.

Next day it turned out she died due to internal bleeding.

Dying from a snapped wrist is unlikely. So something must have happened when he visited.

He played the part of the nice boy toy at her funeral. Her father taking pity on him gave him exactly what he wanted. He thought it was so stupid how naive that old man was.

But all his morals changed in sophomore year. He was close to dropping out. Oh but he finally had a few classes with a girl. The girl that made his world colorful like his father said.

But like I said. He left out some parts.

It felt like it was only a timer for him.

He found himself always staring at her not caring about others saying he looked like a creep.

He didn't care at all. Only for her. She made him feel things he only heard of.

When she even looked his way he always felt like his guts would drop out of his stomach. She’s that breathtaking.

Fast forward a few weeks later of eavesdropping and stalking. He gathered so much and has everything about her memorized.

Just give him a reason to blame it on you. Talk to him.

For once he wasn't staring at her only at the guy who was staring at her. And he felt a nudge on her shoulder looking up and his body was filled with fire.

She’s talking to him.

“You’re Xavier right? The teacher said we are partners. Im-” She was interrupted when Xavier stood up and smiled genuinely at her.

“Rachel, right?” He asks and she slowly nods before he leads her to the back of the room as others got with their partners.

She sat down and instantly started to explain the assignment to the anonymous stalker.

She’s more ravishing up close…

“Are you listening to me?” She sighs and was suddenly straight at him.

“Yes, why are you asking?” His voice was soothing to hear and it had a hint of mischief in it.

“You were just daydreaming, and not responding to any questions.” She sighs wondering why she was partnered up with him.

“Oh, the first question is A. Juliet stabbed herself with Romeo's dagger. Not with the poison.” He responded rather quickly sensing her doubt in him and that made him panic.

She studied him before humming in response and they went over the questions together but unknown to her he was edging closer to her little by little.

Once the bell rang she got up and he growled under his breath having an urge to abuse a bell.

“Hey we only missed one question, why are you growling? We did fine.” She reminds and he looks at her after making eye contact with the boy that was staring at Rachel.

“I was just enjoying your company.” He gave a genuine and complementary explanation and she chuckled awkwardly not knowing how to respond to that.

“I li- enjoyed it too. We have to get to our next classes. Bye.” She gave a curt wave and he smiled waving back but she was already gone then he narrowed his eyes. He got up and grabbed his bag walking to the door but slammed into the guy.

“Sorry man, didn't mean to do that!” Xavier apologized and helped him pick up his things and the male smiled apologetically.

“Thanks, and don't worry about it! I wasn't watching where I was going anyways.” He breathed out with a flat chuckle and got up leaving the room after taking his books from Xavier.

Xavier dropped the sorry look and looked at the card as he walked the opposite direction of his next class.

“Oh, Williams? Shame. I know his older brothers.” Xavier murmured to himself.

A few hours later school was let out and everyone went home like they normally would.

Williams walked down the dark hallway with a sigh, his hair messy and wore a knitted sweater. He was too busy goggling at Rachel to take notes. He was going to fail… He was the last person there and he always stayed late and was often trusted to lock up the school so he had an extra pair of keys.

He walked towards the front door only to slam into it when it didn't open. He shook the door knob and it was locked. He sighed and pushed his hands into his pockets to fish out his keys but they weren't there.

Thinking he forgot them in the classroom he walked back and walked over to the door only to find writing on the glass.

Ten second head start. Run.

His eyes widened then narrowed thinking this was a prank and he tried wiping off the ink only to smell and feel its substance.

Blood.

His bag fell to the ground and he dropped everything looking disgusted and disturbed. He looked around for the culprit but saw a trail of blood. He gulped harshly and pulled out a small pocket knife. Smaller than his pinky. Sad really. But hilarious and amusing.

He started following and staggering towards the trail only to see it lead to the bathrooms. The athletes bathrooms.

He stammered out words of ‘Come out’ or something along those lines. He was stuttering like crazy, you couldn't understand him.

He then held his free hand over his mouth as a shield for his own vomit seeing the smashed in head of the janitor. Her fat pig bodied corpse lying in the middle of the athletes showers. Her skull looked like mush and her blood and brains were rinsing down the drain.

Suddenly the showers turned on and steam rose into the air fogging up the glass and windows.

He squeaked and bolted but the door was locked. He realized he dropped the keys, so. Fair game, right?

He started screaming from the top of his lungs and it sent chills down his spine as it echoed around him.

He saw a shadow but before he could turn he felt a thud in his head.

Xavier made his way up to the school seeing people gathered outside of the gates and it looked like a riot or something.

He slipped passed others and made it to Rachel.

“What's wrong?” He asked, raising a brow.

“People keep saying a student and staff member was murdered. But The police are saying its a murdered suicide.” She responds.

“Why?”

“The student slit his wrists with a knife and he was beaten by the staff member.” She adds and keeps trying to look over the crowd before sighing and starts walking away.

“Classes are cancelled today.” A few kids say as others started walking back home or whatever.

Xavier watched Rachel before he just- wOOP- all the way up to her and smiled.

“Hey, want to hang out? I don't want to go home and I don't want to be alone right now.” He asked his bag hanging from his shoulder.

She seemed skeptical of his request but she figured why not and agreed.

He suddenly had her bag and held it.

“I invited you so I might as well hold your things.” He spoke up quickly when she gave him a weird look. She debated whether she should retort or even excuse herself. But of course since they are already walking, might as well.

“So...why don't you want to go home?” She asked, not wanting to walk in an uncomfortable silence.

“Well my dad has his models back at home. So work.” He cut it down.

No that man was torturing those women saying it was for an aesthetic. And to bring up awareness. Make it look real.

That was bullshit of course.

“Oh, do you not like them?”

“What do you want to eat?” He interrupted her and apologized as she chuckled.

“Oh I don't mind- I don't have money-” She murmured.

“Did I ask if you had money or not?”

If you texted that it would sound aggressive and agitated. But he said it in a joking and a soft manner. You could tell he said it like he was paying no matter what.

“Well...thank you.” She smiled slightly.

“Hey Rachel! Hey Xavier!”

Xavier glared and looked up seeing Daniel and he skipped over waving to Rachel. And Xavier seemed annoyed by his presence. He was getting in the way of his hang out.

“Bye! I had fun!” Rachel smiled and left as Daniel and Xavier waved.

“Why are you still here…” Xavier growled and Daniel was taken aback from how cruel he grew towards him in under five seconds.

“I just wanted to hang out with you-”

“Well when I am with her I don't want you or anyone else around.” He growls his face inches from Daniels.

“You killed Williams didn't you?” Daniel frowned and suddenly Xavier walked away and Daniel followed wanting answers.

Xavier stood by a boulder and Daniel climbed till he stood beside him.

“What happened-?”

“She happened.” Suddenly he had a psychotic smile and looked at Daniel with crazed eyes.

“I haven't felt like this since….well since never! Haha! She happened! I'm so in love with her I will kill anyone just so I can only have her!” He shouts, flinging his arms out and Daniel stared his eyes wide and he was terrified by his sudden obsession.

“Xavier that-”

“You know how many I've killed already? I never felt more alive then when I killed for her! And I’m telling you because you are my friend.” He smiled but it wasn't a warm or psychotic one. It was just there. It didn't seem fake either. He felt a hand on his chest and stared at Xavier whose face suddenly went dim.

“But I don't trust you. I told you. But I don't trust you at all.”

“Xavier the things you feel right now? They aren't real, that isn't love- that's obsession-”

“What's the difference? She is mine. She will be all mine.”

“Xavier! This isn't love! You will just hurt her and yourself!” Daniel tried getting that through his head but Xavier was just grinning and having one hand on the side of his own head as if holding it.

“Who cares? As long as I have her I will feel everything! She is the person that makes me feel. She's mine….all mine….”

Daniel frowned.

“She won’t love you.”

Xavier stared at him before his hand on Daniel's chest pushed him and Daniel plummeted to the ground.

The cracks would make anybody cringe and his twisted body laid at the ground.

“I’ll make her learn to love me.”

#yandere au #Xavier x Rachel #Xavier ain’t right in his head with this one #ocs with cas

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smut-goblin · 5 years

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Gruuz The Breaker (m!demon/f!human nsfw)

Gruuz The Breaker was fearsome to behold.

A seven feet tall hulking mass of grey muscles with hard, dragon-like scales jutting out of his shoulders and back to protect his spine. His massive three-fingered hands could easily crush skulls of other demons, brightly glowing eye looking at the broken bodies of his brethren with nothing but contempt. You have seen him use the giant tusks jutting from his lower jaw to tear out throats and chunks of flesh, his tricloven hooves trampling anyone unfortunate to get between him and his prey.

Oh, if only those cowering in fear before him could see him now. But no. This Gruuz was just for you to see.

Broad shoulders supporting him as he meekly looked at you, tree trunk arms tied behind his back, face down, ass up as he presented himself for your cruel mercies.

His ashen skin already turning dark under strokes of the leather paddle. You eased the sting a bit with a hand gently massaging the shapely flesh before delivering another blow. He knew better than to protest his punishment for keeping you waiting.

You've finally stopped when his cheeks looked like plums, dark demon blood giving the flesh lovely colour.

- "Now. Since that part is done, I think it's time you started showing me how sorry you are"- you cooed sweetly, one hand grabbing a tusk, forcing Gruuz up into kneeling position.

- " Yes, ma'am. I am very sorry." - his voice was a husky growl and you could see the result of your spanking jutting proudly between his thighs, precum oozing generously.

- "Oh, darling. Words are cheap." - you've backed yourself onto a bed, propping pillows under your back as you chided Gruuz softly. -" Now then"- you spread your legs once you found the comfortable spot -" Actions speak louder than words" - you pointed at your already wet slit -" start apologising."

He'd learned his lesson and needn't be told twice. The sight of him crawling on his knees towards you shot hot sparks into your very core. You could see his nostrils flaring as he caught the scent of your growing arousal, knife-like ears twitching as his jaw muscles rippled, Gruuz breathing in through both mouth and nose, being able to sample your desire in the air before plunging his tongue between your folds for a better taste.

You let yourself fall down on the pillows, legs stretching to rest on the demon's shoulders, pulling him even closer. That wicked tongue of his was already making your breath hitch. Rougher than a human and prehensile, it worked you in all the right ways with a mixture of texture, pressure and sucking.

The rumbling growls and whimpers he was making sent vibrations through your body, making your hands fly to grab his head as your hips rubbed shamelessly against his face. You knew Gruuz's hips were mirroring yours, but with hands tied behind him, he was unable to give himself any sort of relief. His mounting frustration making the growls grow in strength, sending more jolts through you.

You came hard and suddenly, the greedy sucking on your clit throwing you over the edge, body curling up in a ball, head resting on Gruuz's wide shoulders. Your breathless panting in his ear has spurred him on, tongue and mouth doubling their assault, making the fire in your belly build up just as the first extinguished, nails dragging at his skin as you threw yourself back on the pillows, hips jerking wildly.

It took you a while to get your heartbeat under control, Gruuz still kneeling between your thighs, nipping and nuzzling the flesh on your shaking legs, trying to get some attention.

- "Well..."- you croaked, coughed and tried again. -" Well, it's a start. But I'm still disappointed in you."

-"Yes, ma'am" - Gruuz was doing a bad job of hiding his satisfied smirk.

You reached to untie him, slapping his giant hands away when he tried to touch you.

- "None of that, you're not out of the woods yet! Now, on your back, keep your hands above your head. If I see them move you'll be in real trouble!"

With an eager 'yes ma'am' he followed your orders, arms stretched above his head, one holding the other by the wrist. You pretended for a moment to assess his position, giving your legs some extra time to become less jelly and more solid. Falling down on your face would not be great for the mood.

Finally, you decided to crawl off the bed and up his body, Gruuz's eye on you as you stopped before his weeping shaft. Normally you'd love to wrap your lips around it and let it fill your mouth. But your demon lover needs to learn his lesson.

Hands propped on the muscular plane of his stomach you dragged your wet folds along his shaft, mixing juices and testing his restraint. He had swallowed hard but didn't change his position. Satisfied you moved one hand between you, guiding his bulbous head inside you.

You have always loved that first stretching moment, feeling of being opened wide and then filled to the brim as you slid your way down Gruuz's cock. The ridges of hardened skin circling his shaft slowed your way up, but dear lord, they felt fantastic rubbing inside you as you picked up your pace.

Both hands back on the demon's body for support, you had to go all the way to kneeling to get to the top of his shaft. Normally you'd let him wrap one massive hand around your waist, encircling it wholly, to help you ride him.

Well, tough titties, you were doing it your way.

- "Don't even think about cumming before I do." - you breathed, working out the rhythm for your hips.

- "No, ma'am"- his voice was strained, free hand opening and closing. Good boy, he was doing his best to obey.

Since up and down wasn't going to work so well you started rocking yourself on his cock, back and forth, body adding circular motion on its own, the ridges and his girth rubbing and bumping all the little spots that made your blood sing.

You could feel Gruuz tensing under you, jaw muscles bunching up, neck tendons standing out as he fought the urge to grab you. The knowledge that the only thing keeping this killing machine still was your command and his desire to please you and submit was more potent than any aphrodisiac.

You grabbed one of your breasts in your hand, kneading the flesh, fingers of the other sneaking down to tease your abused clit as your hips continued their dance, movements more frantic and wild.

You peaked again and it felt almost sore, the way your impossibly stretched pussy tried to flutter and pulse around the monstrous cock inside you. Almost, but damn good.

You looked at Gruuz through your sweaty hair, his glare both burning and begging. A soft smile and tired nod were all he needed.

His arms went around you, holding you flush against his body, letting you hear both his hearts hammering as his hips started pistoning into you at full tilt.

You could only moan and mewl at the sensations your tender flesh was feeding you, tired from previous orgasms but already climbing to a final one alongside your lover.

- "You've done so well, I'm so proud of you." - you whispered hotly, knowing Gruuz could hear you over his own snarls and the slapping of flesh. -" You have earned your reward. Cum for me love, fill me up. Do it for me."

You could feel his cock starting to pulse, thrusts becoming jerky and desperate and then the warm sensation of being filled with his seed, liquid overflowing and pooling in a sticky mess where your bodies were joined.

You allowed yourself a few moments to bask in the afterglow before rising up, grabbing Gruuz's hand to follow you. You must have made an odd pair, tiny human woman, your palm big enough to wrap around one of your lover's fingers, and him a mountain of muscle easily towering over you.

Yet he allowed you to guide him to one of the heated pools dotting his pocket plane, Gruuz's very own piece of Inferno.

He sighed with pleasure as he immersed himself in the water and allowed your deft fingers to soap him up, working from the neck down. You gasped as he raised his arm, revealing welts from the rope. You kissed each and every one.

- "Did I hurt you, love? I'm so sorry..."

Gruuz's heavy brow knitted in confusion then he looked at his arm and laughed. His arm gently gathered you to him, massive tusks grazing your skin as he chuckled.

- "No, love. You were perfect. And your ropework gets better and better each time. I guess I was just too eager to lay my hands on you, your sweet little cunt dancing on my tongue so deliciously!" - he laughed again as you blushed and slapped his arm in mock anger.

You carried on bathing him, pressing a loving kiss to every scratch, welt or bite (goodness, how did those appear? Ooooh. Now you remember.) before towering him off and leading him back to the bedroom.

This was his favourite part, being sprawled on his belly while you massaged him from head to toe, working out any knots and tenseness out of his muscles, making him purr like a giant cat. After that, he'll be relaxed and sleepy, sometimes just dozing off curled around you and at times summoning imps with trays of sweetmeats, cold meats and cheeses accompanied by a sweet dessert wine. He'll rest his head in your lap, allowing you to feed him choice bits as you chat about everything and nothing or listen to your voice as you read to him, letting it lull and soothe him.

Being a General of Infernal Legions is a tough job, luckily Gruuz can trust you to take over when he comes to you.

#demon #monster boyfriend #exophilia #terato

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get-your-fics · 5 years

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Violent Ends - Chapter Eighteen

I Love You

Summary: Bruce Wayne is addicted to a lot of things to distract from his dark urges, but his addiction to you might only increase them.

Pairing: dark!Bruce Wayne x reader

Series warnings: Violence, language, smut, rape/non-con, stalking, kidnapping, underage drinking, drug use, torture, abuse

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Stop! Let go of me!” You thrashed your bare legs against the bed, your feet kicking the mattress. “Stop it! Untie me!”

I finished tying your hands to the headboard, pulling the rope tight with my teeth. I sat back on my heels and dusted off my hands, admiring my handiwork. Your completely naked and exposed form laid face up on the bed. Your hands were painfully restrained above you with thick rope to the headboard. You tugged against your constraints, but I had double and triple tied those knots. There was no way you were getting out of them.

“There, perfect.” I grinned like a crocodile barring its teeth. “Now, let’s wake up our guest, shall we?”

I turned to face where Grace was at the foot of the bed. She was still out cold, with rope looped around her wrists to the arms of the chair and around her ankles to the legs. Her head lolled to the side, drool dribbling out of the corner of her mouth and staining her dress. She had dried up, crusted blood on the side of her head where some bits of glass still stuck out of her skin, and she reeked of the Pinot Noir I had dumped on her.

You looked fearfully between me and Grace’s unconscious form. “What are you going to do to her?”

I smiled sweetly at you. “Well, I promised not to kill her, didn’t I?” I scooted to sit closer to Grace on the bed. “At least, not until I’ve had my fun first.” I raised my palm and smacked Grace in the face. “Wakey, wakey, Grace! Time to wake up!”

I gave her other cheek a solid slap for good measure, causing her head to fall to the other side. Her cheeks were turning a violent shade of flushed red. “Stop it!” you yelled. “Get your hands off of her!”

Grace’s eyelashes twitched before her eyes fluttered open. She blinked, her pupils foggy and clouded with sleep. She slowly stirred out of her unconsciousness, lifting her head. She sat up straight in her chair and tried to stretch her limbs against her restraints. When she couldn’t extend them all the way, her brow furrowed. She tried again, this time jerking ferociously against the rope. Her eyes shot open, no longer dazed and confused.

“Good morning, Grace.” She jolted at the sound of my voice, and she snapped her head forward to make eye contact with me. “How did you sleep? Well, I hope?”

“Wh-what’s going on?” she stuttered, straining against her bonds. “Why did you do this to me?”

“I have to say, you really don’t know when to stop, do you?” I shook my head and laughed. “You really just can’t stay away. I mean, I’m used to girls being all over me, but you? You’re a whole new level. I mean, I literally called out another girl’s name during sex and straight up told you to fuck off, and you still couldn’t stay away.”

“Help!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “Please, somebody! Help me!” I let out a disappointed sigh and rolled my eyes. “There’s no point in screaming. No one is around for miles.” I reached over and grabbed my pocket knife off of the nightstand. “I already explained all this to (Y/N) once when I first took her.” I flicked it open and held the blade against her throat. “But the difference between you and her is that I don’t care if you die.”

“Bruce, stop!” you objected. “Please, don’t hurt her! You don’t have to kill her!” I looked over my shoulder at you. “I don’t have to kill her?” I repeated. “What am I supposed to do then, gorgeous? Let her go? She’ll tell on me if I do that.”

“Then keep her here with me,” you begged. “Please, anything, just don’t kill her.”

“Why would I keep her here? I don’t care what happens to her, gorgeous. I don’t care if she lives or dies. It would be pointless and a strain on my resources, not to mention she’d be a pain in both of our asses.” I gripped the handle of the knife harder until my knuckles turned white. “But I have to say, I admire how much of a fight you’re putting up. I can’t say it’d be the same if the shoe was on the other foot.”

I stared at Grace and analyzed every movement she made. I relished in the way her entire body quivered slightly. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead and ran down her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing tears to roll down her cheeks and leave tracks in their wake. She swallowed roughly, and the blade pressed deeper into her skin, drawing a thin line of blood. It was no where near as pretty as yours, but it was still a sight to see nonetheless.

I retracted the knife from her throat. “I won’t kill you, not yet anyway.” I set the knife back down on the nightstand. “First, I want to show you how much more (Y/N) means to me, more than you ever will.” I pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it to the floor. “There are actually a lot of differences between you and her, and I’m going to make you watch all the things I do to her that I’ll never do to you.” I placed a hand on your ankle.

“Bruce, stop it.” You gritted your teeth. I ignored you and slid my hand up your leg to your knee. “Don’t touch me.”

I leered down at you. “Fine, I’ll gag her, gorgeous, if that’ll make you more comfortable.”

I leaned over and grabbed a handkerchief off of the nightstand. I sat back up and reached for Grace. She leaned away as far as possible until her back was pressed against the back of the chair. She whined as I shoved the handkerchief into her mouth, muffling the noise. I tied it behind her head before letting go. I watched as she bit down on the cloth and shook her head form side to side, trying to shake free, but it was of no use.

“There.” I turned around and focused my dark gaze on you. “Now, where were we?”

I crawled towards you on the bed. “No.” Your voice started out small, but slowly grew in intensity. “No! Stop it, Bruce! Get away from me!”

You started to kick your legs again as I drew closer, but I easily caught them. I spread your legs and pinned them to the mattress with my hands, exposing you to Grace. You shrieked and wriggled your upper body, pulling on the rope tied around your wrists. It stayed strong. I settled between your legs, smirking up at you. Then, I stuck my tongue out and swiped it through your folds.

A shudder ran through you, and you bucked your hips. Though, whether it was to get away from me or out of seeking more pleasure, I couldn’t tell. I lowered my head again and licked another stripe up the length of your slit. Your voice cracked, and you arched your back against the bed, the back of your head digging into the pillow. I wrapped my lips around your clit and took it into my mouth, sucking. You parted your lips to let out another bloodcurdling scream, but nothing came out. Instead, your expression twisted into one of pleasure, and a breathy moan escaped your lips.

I continued to lap at you, swirling the tip of my tongue around your clit. I tried to listen to what Grace was doing behind me, but she had gone silent. I could feel your body slowly giving into me, and you stopped trying to fight me, too preoccupied with the pleasure I was causing you. I lifted my hand and pressed my finger against your entrance. You tensed against my touch, and I drew circles around your entrance. I felt your juices gather on the pad of my finger and smiled against you.

I pulled away from you, my chin wet with a mixture of your slick and my saliva. “Are you sure you don’t like this, gorgeous? ‘Cause you’re dripping.” The obscene sound of your arousal as I rubbed my finger over your entrance became abundantly clear, and your complexion flushed pink. “I think you like being watched.”

You opened your mouth to deny it, but I pushed my finger into you before you could get a word out. You squeaked instead and went stiff against me. Your pussy clenched down on my finger as I thrust it further into you.

“Shhh,” I placated you in a soothing tone. “Show her how good you are for me, how well you can take me.”

I pumped my finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. When I thought you felt prepared, I pressed another into you. I twisted my wrist as I moved my fingers in and out, and I curled them to brush against that special spot deep inside of you. You gasped, and your hands flexed against your constraints, except I didn’t think you were trying to get out of them anymore. I think you wanted something to hold onto, to bury your fingers in my dark curls and yank on them to stabilize yourself as the world spun around you.

I attached my lips to your clit as I thrust my fingers in and out of you. I moaned as I sucked on your swollen bud, sending vibrations that went straight to your core and shot tingles up your spine. Your moans started to increase in frequency and grow higher in pitch. I sped up the pace of my fingers to match the speed of your rapidly impending orgasm. You looked down at me, and my eyes met yours. I curled my tongue around your clit as I slid my fingers all the way into you, and that was all you needed to come undone.

You closed your eyes as your orgasm washed over you, a high-pitched mewl falling from your lips. I proceeded to finger you through your high, placing kitten licks on your clit that sent aftershocks through you. I detached my mouth from you and pulled my fingers out, licking them clean. I turned around to look at Grace behind me.

She was sitting in the chair, silently, tears streaming down her cheeks and gathering at her chin. They dripped off and hit the skirt of the dress she was wearing. She gripped the arms of the chair, her nails digging into the wood and leaving scratches. The look in her brown eyes was unreadable; it was a mix of fear, and horror, and the slightest hint of arousal. It made my pulse spike and my blood burn with a blazing fire.

“I’m sorry, gorgeous,” I leaned over and fumbled for the pocket knife on the nightstand, not taking my eyes off of her, “but I want to hear Grace for this next part.”

I reached for her and ripped the handkerchief out of her mouth. She sucked in a breath and parted her lips, preparing to scream. But before she could, I flipped the blade out.

It all happened so fast. One second, she was fine, and the next, her throat was cut open. The blade sliced through her skin in an instant. Her eyes bulged like they were about to pop out of her skull. All the light and passion and emotion that had been in them a moment before drained and seeped until they were filled with nothing. Just two black holes void of life.

“No!” you shrieked, your voice shaking the bedroom walls.

Then her head fell back, and blood spurted out of the incision in her neck. It hit me in the face, and I winced. It drizzled over me like red rain and coated me in a thick, sticky layer. You were screaming behind me, thrashing on the bed as some of the blood hit you and trying to press up against the headboard to avoid the spray. I embraced it. I lifted my chin up to the ceiling and closed my eyes as it washed over me, running my fingers through my dark curls.

When you fell silent, I tried to wipe the blood out of my eyes but only succeeded in smearing it all over my face and hands. I opened my eyes anyway, blinking rapidly. Blood no longer spewed out of the deep gash in her neck like a jet stream. Instead, dark red liquid oozed out in heavy drops and stained her skin. Her head lolled to the side, and her body slumped in the chair, completely limp and lifeless. Her eyes were still wide open, but they were out of focus. They saw nothing. They were dull and gray, devoid of all color. She was an empty shell, a barren husk of the person she used to be. Her jaw hung open in a scream that would never come.

I twisted around on the bed to see you still tied to the headboard. Your eyes were glued to Grace’s dead body, like it was too horrific to look away from. Your body was coated in a thin sheen of sweat and a layer of blood. The sheets next to you were spotted ruby red, and your chest heaved. Your whole body trembled, every inch of you on edge. It made my cock twitch at the thought of your veins pumping with pure adrenaline, of fear coursing and rushing through you.

I clawed at the sheets as my eyes turned dark. I moved towards you like a predator stalking its prey, the mattress groaning in complaint underneath me. You snapped out of your trance and switched your gaze to look at me. You writhed on the bed, the rope digging into the skin of your wrists as you did so. You kicked your legs at me as I neared, shouting incoherent babbles of desperation. I easily apprehended your offending limbs and once again spread your legs for me.

“You’re a monster!” you yelled so loud your voice went hoarse, your complexion matching the color of Grace’s blood. “Monster! Monster!”

I wondered if that was the only word your brain could comprehend at the moment. I chuckled, and your face contorted with anger. You reared back before spitting in my face. Your saliva landed directly on my nose, running down the bridge. I lifted my hand and gathered it on my fingers before sticking it in my mouth, humming with pleasure. The pleased smile on your face vanished, and you backed away from me as far as you could on the bed.

I took my fingers out of my mouth, sucking them dry with an audible slurp, before descending on you. My mouth attacked yours with a voracious growl, and I shifted so I pinned your legs down with my knees. I reached down and undid the zipper on my slacks. Dragging it down felt like it took forever. I hooked my thumbs under my slacks and boxers and pushed them down in one go. You yelped, but my mouth swallowed all the noises you made. You fought against me as I forced my tongue past your lips and into your mouth. The kiss was a mess of teeth and tongue and lips, but it only served to fuel my desire for you.

I pushed your knees up by your shoulders and positioned myself at your entrance. I pulled away from your lips, out of breath and my lips swollen. I stared into your eyes as I pushed into you, my face centimeters from yours. You yelped, and the sound echoed in my ears. You were still slick from the orgasm I had previously given you, so it was easier to thrust into you to the hilt. I pulled my hips back and snapped my hips against you sharply, jolting you on the bed. You let out a shaky exhale, your warm breath fanning my face.

I set a slow and steady pace, enjoying the feel of you around me. I let out a low groan. You were so tight and warm and wet. I pressed my chest against yours, our bodies sliding against each other with blood. I sped up, digging my fingers into your hips so hard I was sure I would leave bruises. Your wails and hollers were barely audible over the noise of skin slapping against skin. The mattress squeaked underneath us in time with my thrusts, and the headboard knocked against the wall, though because of you tugging on the rope or my thrusts, I couldn’t tell.

I leaned down so my lips grazed the shell of your ear as I spoke, “Say you love me,” I whispered.

You shot me a crazed, untamed, wild look. “No!” you cried.

“Say it.” I snaked my arm between our bodies and brushed your clit with my thumb. “Say it, and I’ll make you cum again.”

You curled your upper lip at me. “I don’t care!” you shouted. “I’ll never say that to you! Never!”

I rubbed circles over your clit in time with my thrusts. Your defiance weakened for a moment, and I could see the need in your eyes. Just as your breath hitched in your throat, I retracted my hand, and you let out a whine I didn’t think you meant to. I glared down at you. “Say you love me!” I anchored myself on my hand next to your head.

You wiggled underneath me. “No.” Your voice was breathy. I could tell your resolve was fading fast and your walls were breaking down.

My hand returned to your clit, and I tilted my pelvis so I pounded into you at a new angle. The head of my cock brushed against that spot inside of you with every thrust. I pressed down harder on your clit, and you squealed. “Say it, or Grace won’t be the only person I kill today.”

Your eyes flashed with fear, and I knew that I got you hooked. You bit your bottom lip before mumbling something I couldn’t hear.

“What was that?” I asked in a condescending tone.

You clenched your jaw and repeated yourself a little louder. But your voice cracked, and all the vowels and consonants seemed to slur and blend together into one giant, indistinguishable mess.

“A little louder, gorgeous. I can’t hear you.” I rammed into you at an inhuman speed, pulling all the way out before impaling you again roughly.

You swallowed your pride. “I love you!” you screamed, jerking tears from your eyes. They ran down the sides of your face and collected on the pillow under your head.

I grinned down at you and matched my pace with my hand on your clit. You seemed to forget yourself for a minute and bucked your hips against my hand. You let out a strangled mix between a moan and a scream as you came. Your pussy clamped down on my cock, and your juices ran down your thighs. I continued to swirl my fingers over your clit until you were done riding out your high.

I panted as I pounded into you. I chased after my release and rutted into you ferociously. I grunted animal-like with each thrust. I felt like I was seeing red, and in a way, I really was. I stilled as I came inside of you, spilling my seed into you and painting your walls white. I groaned and closed my eyes, feeling waves of euphoria pulse through me.

I pulled out of you and opened my eyes. I stared down at your form. Your eyes were half-lidded, and your chest rose up and down. You weeped softly, snot bubbling from your nose. I looked down to between your thighs. Cum dribbled out of your pussy and coated your thighs, mixing with the streaks of Grace’s blood that smudged across your skin.

I collapsed on top of you, crushing you with my weight. Every cell in my body thrummed at what I had heard you say. Even though you had only said the words once, they seemed to echo in my ears until all I could hear you say was “I love you, I love you, I love you,” in your sweet, heavenly voice over and over and over again.

I know I had made you say it, and I know you didn’t mean it, not even close. But laying on top of you covered in blood, I could almost convince myself it was true.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #gotham #gotham fanfic #gotham imagine #gotham fanfiction #dark!fic #dark!bruce wayne #playboy!bruce wayne

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itskimtaehyung · 7 years

Text

The Skyline Case (M)

Bonus chapter for Alibi

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

Genre: Detective!Jungkook, SerialKiller!Jungkook, smut, horror, drama

Word Count: 1.6k

Content/Warnings: Graphic sex/death/violence/mutilation/gore, necrophilia

Summary: Jungkook’s memories of the Skyline Murder.

A/N: Alibi is too damn long as it is and I wasn’t sure where I could fit this scene in, so here it is in all its glory, getting its own, separate chapter. Also shoutout to @hipsterminseok for helping me brainstorm this murder and again thank you to my wonderful beta @kimtaehyungl 💕

After seeing the crime scene, Jungkook remembered the Skyline murder well.

The Ambrosia murder had happened almost nine months ago, and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since. He had slept with numerous other people afterward, but none of the times had felt as good as that one night with Min Yoongi. He tried suppressing his urges to go out and seek the same kind of pleasure once again, but after nearly nine months, he was beginning to crack. He needed a fix, he needed to feel it once again.

Her name was Kang Hyojin, and he met her at a bar in one of those fancy hotels downtown. She was wealthy, yet anonymous, the daughter of some CEO that no one knew or cared about. She was perfect for him.

He spotted her drinking at the bar alone as he lounged in one of the booths, searching for his next victim. When he saw her, he did a double take. Her pitch black hair that matched her little black dress exquisitely complemented her golden skin tone. Her bangs were cut bluntly across her forehead, just above her eyebrows which framed her delicate, doll-like eyes. She was beautiful, angelic, ethereal. The second Jungkook laid eyes on her, he knew he had to have her.

So, Jungkook took a shot and stood up, feeling a bit dizzy from all the drinks, and straightened his jacket before strutting over to her. He greeted her with a warm smile, and she greeted him with the iciness of a cold steel knife.

It took a bunch of flirting, some of his best pick up lines, but he finally got her to take him back to her place.

She lived in the penthouse of the Skyline building, a fancy apartment complex that housed some of the wealthiest residents in the City. He drove by it all the time on his way to work, but this was his first time inside. He didn't pay much attention to the interior, however, because the second the elevator doors closed, his lips were on Hyojin’s. It was a long ride up to the 22nd floor, and Jungkook wanted to waste no time.

Jungkook lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist as they kissed, and Jungkook could already feel himself getting hard. Her crotch rested right on his hardening bulge, and she rubbed herself on him through his jeans.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened into the penthouse apartment as Jungkook stumbled out carrying Hyojin. He later found out that it was lavishly and tastefully decorated with some of the finest art pieces money could buy, but at that moment, he was too focused on Hyojin and how her body felt wrapped around him to notice.

Hyojin directed him to the bedroom, where he threw her down onto the plush bedding. He placed his hands just above her knees, slowly trailing them up her thighs, pushing her dress up to reveal her naked sex.

Jungkook bit his lip, even more turned on at the discovery that she wasn't wearing underwear. He could see that she was already wet and dripping, and he couldn't help himself. Without warning, Jungkook dove down and placed his mouth on her folds, causing her to shudder and moan. He swirled his tongue around, grazing her entrance, rubbing her clit, and a slew of whimpers left her lips. Her breathing got harder and faster with the addition of Jungkook's fingers working her clit as his tongue lapped at her slit.

Soon he felt her coming around his tongue, the most beautiful, angelic sounds escaping her throat. The only thing that disappointed him was that he didn't get to watch her come. But that was okay, because he had another chance. He was determined to make her come again.

He kissed up her body, pulling her dress the rest of the way up and throwing it aside. His lips remained on Hyojin's neck, placing soft kisses on the tender flesh. She tugged at the hem of Jungkook's shirt, urging him to take it off. He pulled back and allowed her to pull it over his head and toss it on the floor. She then unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down his pants and boxers, revealing his hard cock, red and throbbing.

Hyojin reached out and touched him, running her fingers over the smooth skin that covered his shaft. Jungkook let out a groan that sent shivers up her spine. Her mouth watered at the sight of precum leaking from his tip.

Reluctantly, Jungkook backed away from her touch, getting up, and taking a condom out of his jacket pocket before throwing the jacket back on the floor. Before he could get the packet open, Hyojin took it from him, opening it herself all while peering at him seductively through her lashes.

God, she's beautiful.

Hyojin's delicate fingers reached out for Jungkook, gently grasping his erect member, and putting the condom on smoothly. She ran her hand up and down his shaft before he snatched her wrist to stop her. She gasped at the unexpected motion and looked up at Jungkook. Wordlessly, he let go of her wrist and grabbed onto her shoulders, flipping her onto her back. This aggressiveness aroused her, and she bit her lip in anticipation. Jungkook squeezed the soft flesh of her ass, massaging it with his strong hands.

"Arch your back for me," he instructed, and she did so, lifting her stomach off of the bed and sticking her ass up for him. Jungkook wrapped an arm around her waist, positioning her, as he teased the tip of his cock at her entrance. Her core throbbed as it waited to take Jungkook in, but Jungkook kept teasing, rubbing himself on her clit and along her slit, coating himself in her arousal. Only when Hyojin's legs began to shake, did Jungkook concede. He lined himself up at her entrance and slowly pushed himself in.

She was still so wet from her last orgasm, and Jungkook slid in easily. Jungkook couldn't help but moan as he felt her surrounding him. When she clenched around him, he swore he could have come at that very moment.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he breathed and thrusted into her.

"Ah, yes! Right there!" Hyojin exclaimed as he hit her g-spot.

Jungkook pulled out and thrusted into her again, hitting the same spot. "Like that?"

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes. Just like that. God, I'm gonna come again," Hyojin panted.

He thrusted into her again and again, making sure to hit the same spot, and he could feel her walls getting tighter and tighter around him as she got closer to another orgasm.

Jungkook bent over, resting his chest on her back, and reached down to rub her clit. He positioned his lips right next to her ear and whispered, "Don't worry, babe. I'll make you come again."

Jungkook kept rubbing her clit and thrusting into her until she began whimpering and her walls felt so tight around him. He used his free hand to push her hair away from her face so that he could watch her as she came around him, screaming and crying out the fake name he gave her. Her legs shook as her walls spasmed around his length, and he did his best to hold her up so that she wouldn't collapse onto the bed. He slowed his movements and didn’t start again until she was coming down from her high. He was so close to coming, but he needed just one more thing.

Jungkook laid her down gently onto the bed and pulled out.

"Wait, aren't you going to come...?"

"Yeah," Jungkook replied, digging in his pockets again. "Just give me a moment."

Hyojin lay on her stomach, basking in the afterglow of her orgasm as Jungkook repositioned himself. Hyojin seemed tired and was breathing hard, so instead of making her hold herself up again, Jungkook put a pillow beneath her to keep her up. He entered her again, and she grimaced. Her walls were incredibly sensitive now after having come twice, but from his breathing and moaning, she could tell Jungkook was close, and let him keep going.

"You know, you're so beautiful," Jungkook told her. "Like an angel."

Hyojin sighed. "Not even close."

"All you need are your wings."

Hyojin let out an airy laugh that was cut short by Jungkook stabbing his knife into her back, severing her spine. She was still alive for a few seconds, completely paralyzed, before the life left her. Jungkook saw the horror on her face, such a stark contrast to the blissful expression she displayed just moments ago.

"Oh, angel. I'm sorry," he sing songed, pulling the knife out of her back. He used the sharp tip of the blade to draw patterns on her skin. When he was finished, he ogled his creation. She was so exquisite. He had given her just what she needed: a pair of blood red, intricately carved angel wings.

He had been close for so long that when he came he could have sworn he saw heaven. He saw the purest, most blinding white light and was encompassed by an intense, unadulterated pleasure.

Jungkook collapsed onto the bed immediately afterward, reveling in his bliss. His fingers intertwined themselves into Hyojin's hair, feeling the soft, silky tresses as he came down from his high.

A while later, Jungkook fell asleep, but only for a little bit. When he awoke, the sky was still dark. His surroundings were lit only by the pale moonlight streaming through the windows.

He looked over at Hyojin, and the soft glow that was cast upon her. He wanted to stay and marvel at his creation longer, but he knew he couldn’t. He had to leave before the sun rose up above the skyline.

#jungkook smut #bts #networkbangtan #sonyeondannet #bts writing squad #kkreationsnet #kreativenetwork #cmbnetwork #bttnetwork #busanboysnet #kooknetwork #jungkooknet #armiesnet #my writing #mine #kookoo #she's ready!!!#i know i said i would post this on the 26th but i couldn't wait

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destruction-personified-blog · 7 years

Text

Bloodbath

(( closed starter for @grimomcns TRIGGER WARNING: CONTAINS DRUGS, RAPE REFERENCES AND EXTREME VIOLENCE/GORE. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED. Also....this is really, really long, but I needed backstory ok... ))

Any other person would have been cautious, they would have waited until daybreak to venture out into the silent streets of Malie City. A surprisingly crime-ridden place, despite its elegant Eastern aesthetics.

But not Guzma.

No, he had somebody to meet. And, despite night being the most unsafe time, it was the only time he could meet this individual without being seen or busted by the cops. He had his black long-sleeve hoodie on, like any other stereotypical movie character going to purchase narcotics, hands in his pocket and head down as he walked. His Ariados, Princess, followed close behind, watching and listening for other people, ready to warn her master the moment they were spotted.

Hood up and face hidden, he silently walked until he came upon his destination. With a click of his tongue, Princess retreated at will into her Pokéball, and Guzma disappeared behind a building and into a narrow alleyway, shrouded in shadows. Sure enough, his guy was there as promised, dressed in similar attire to better blend in to their near pitch black environment. His face was also hidden by a hood, but somewhat illuminated by the bright burning end of a cigarette hanging from his lips. His dark eyes gleamed faintly in the dark.

“Alright, you got it?”

Guzma muttered, pulling his wallet out of his pants. The dealer confirmed his question by in turn reaching into his large pocket to retrieve several small plastic bags of weed.

“You sure nobody followed you?”

“Yeah, had my Ariados keepin’ watch.”

“A’ight, gimme 15′000 for alla’ it an’ let’s call it a night.”

Guzma nodded, pulling several notes from his wallet - fifteen thousand Pokéyen in cash - and handed them to the dealer. After a moment counting them, he nodded and placed the bags in Guzmas hands.

“Right.” The dealer took a long puff of his cigarette, before taking it in his fingers and tapping the ashes to the ground, exhaling the smoke deeply. “See ya next week, G. Peace.”

Guzma shoved the bags in his pockets and turned silently to leave, throwing the peace sign back at the dealer, beginning his long trek back to Po Town.

It wasn’t long before Guzma heard something. He stopped and glanced around. There was no wind, no chirp of Pokémon in the distance, nothing.

His hand drifted to the Pokéballs in his hoodie, hovering over them in case something happened.

Then, it did.

Suddenly, Guzma was surrounded. Two men appeared from the alleyway ahead of him, and more footsteps could be heard behind him. Each one was dressed in black, their faces covered with bandanas. Similar to his grunts, but he knew these thugs were in no way related to his gang. Guzma smirked.

“Evenin’ boys, ain’t it a lil’ late fer this? Ya parents’ll be worried sick ‘bout you.”

Slowly, he gripped his Golisopods Pokéball, but he was unable to take it out before the two men behind him launched their attack. Guzma snarled as they tried to immobilise him, quickly holding his arms behind his back. With a growl he lifted his foot and brought it back with a force, catching one of them hard in the leg. While that distracted him, Guzma forced one arm free and used it to punch the other guy in the jaw. Now free from their grip he jumped back and flipped out his butterfly knife.

As the two attackers quickly recovered from their injuries, their allies tried to take Guzma by surprise, coming from both sides of him. One of them was holding a metal bat, the other wielding a flip knife. He jumped out of the way of the bat, which came down hard and thudded into the wall next to where he had been standing, cracking the brick, and he quickly used his knife to counter the other one, slashing at the blade-wielding thug. He caught him in the arm, cutting a deep gash into his wrist, which made him drop the knife and yelp in pain.

Guzma grinned. Too easy.

…then he felt the bat collide with his leg from the side. Pain shot up his side and he grunted, stumbling slightly. They used this opportunity to subdue him, grabbing his arms roughly and forcing the knife from his hand. He struggled, but three of the large men were using their weight to hold his arms back, making it extremely difficult to even move. He tried to kick out but his leg was still hurting badly from the previous blow.

With that, their leader, weilding his bat, stood above Guzma, his face a silhouette from the dim streetlight behind him. Guzma snarled, still trying to free his arms.

“So, ya got me punk, what’re ya gonna do? I’ve seen some shit, boy, fuckin’ surprise me.”

With this he spat at the thug, teeth bared. The tall man grinned, his dirty teeth glinting slightly, like the surface of the steel bat he was now holding tight with both hands. With what felt like all of his strength, the bat was swung, cracking into Guzmas jaw. He let out a yell of pain, blood running from his lip. A tooth had been chipped and he spit the bloody shard onto the pavement. Through his grimaces of pain he shouted.

“That the best you got, motherfucker?! Come on, BREAK ME!!”

The leader took this as a challenge, swinging again, hitting him in the stomach. The skull boss gagged, doubling over in the thugs tight grip.

“P-pathetic..!”

He choked. Growling, the leader continued his onslaught of brutal blows, hitting Guzma all over and making him almost scream with pain. But, Guzma stayed strong, not letting himself scream. He wouldn’t allow them the satisfaction. By the end of it, he was a bloody mess, red streaks running down from his scalp and his nose, black bruises already covering his arms and legs. Guzma hung from their grip, panting, head hanging down weakly. The skull boss looked worn out. Then, the leader dropped his bloodied bat on the ground, and crouched down to Guzmas face. With a chuckle he finally spoke, his voice was low and hoarse.

“Heard a lotta bout'chu, Guzma. Now I’m startin’ t'think all those stories’re buncha bullshit. Y'ain’t nothin’ but a weak insect. A joke.”

That low chuckle escaped the thugs throat again, and his sour breath filled Guzmas senses as he leaned into his ear to whisper.

“But I know one thing’s fer sure. Ya gotta sweet lil’ body. An’ we’re gonna take it, one by one, in this dirty-ass alley, an’ you’re gonna lay there n’ take it like a good lil’ bitch or Johnny here’ll slit yer fuckin’ throat.”

One of Guzmas captors behind him chuckled, flipped out his blade and held it to his throat, coaxing him to look up. Guzma slowly obeyed, glaring into the mans cruel eyes.

“So, I hope ya ready t'be my lil’ slut…”

Guzmas eyes widened.

That word. It had to be that fucking word.

The one he called himself every day. The one he was called by everyone every day before Plumeria rescued him and Skull was formed. The one he carved into his fucking body with a rusty knife because he couldn’t keep his shitty urges in check.

That word.

And to ice the lovely trauma cake, the thug leaned in and trailed his ransid tongue up Guzmas jawline, making him shudder and recoil, only receiving a harder pressing on his neck in response.

Guzma snarled and used all of his remaining strength to bring his leg up and kick his attacker between the legs. The man doubled over, wheezing, and Guzma laughed. Through the blood and the pain, he laughed maniacally, blood beginning to spray from his mouth. The thugs behind him grunted, holding him tighter, the blade of the knife pressing harder into his throat. Guzma’s eyes were hidden, shadowed by his hair as he continued to laugh unsettlingly. The thug leader looked back up at Guzma, snarling like a rabid beast, before grabbing his face with a dirty hand.

“You think that’s funny, fucker?! Huh?! Well it’ll be funnier when ya chokin’ on my fuckin’–!!”

Suddenly, he was cut off. A few choked gasps left the mans mouth, and his thugs all stared in confusion.

“Boss..? What’s wrong?”

His body shuddered, and the leader was lurched back, revealing…something thick and black, impaling him through the chest. Blood spurted from it, and his eyes bulged. The thugs watched, terrified, as his body spasmed, and finally the thing burst out of his back, blood exploding onto the pavement behind him. The body twitched, and went still, falling onto his back.

The thugs screamed.

Guzma lifted his head, revealing a terrifying grin, and yellow, piercing eyes.

“Oh, whoops.”

The black worm-like thing wriggled unnaturally, and there was a loud squelching noise as it retracted itself from the bloody, broken mass of ribs and meat.

One of the men realised that the thing was protruding from Guzmas back, and quickly let go of him, backing away into the wall. The other two followed suit.

“Wh-what the FUCK, dude?! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!!”

One of them cried, voice breaking in fear as he stared at the black tentacle.

Guzma slowly got to his feet, his hood falling back to reveal…a mess of pitch black hair. That chilling laugh began again, different from the voice he’d used before. It was unnatural, distorted, even alien-sounding.

“Why don’t you humans pick on somebody your own size.”

Guzma turned around. That was not Guzma. Not anymore. Those yellow eyes pierced into every one of the thugs, striking terror into them. The creature raised an arm - no longer the arm of a human. It was thick and black, with five long, sharp claws splayed out on the end to resemble fingers.

It laughed again, louder, open-mouthed, baring razor-sharp rows of fangs. Inhuman.

“Now, hold still, and this might not hurt as much.”

Before any of the thugs could move, the one in the middle let out a horrible sound as another black tentacle shot forwards and instantly crushed his skull against the wall, splattering his brain across it like a fly on a windshield. His two remaining comrades shrieked in horror and scattered.

The creature grinned and spun to face them.

“What did I just say?”

It sent one tentacle flying after one of them, quickly snaring him in its coils, and bringing him screaming back. The creature grinned at him maniacally, before dropping him to the ground. The man lay on his back, paralysed with fear, and the creature sneered down at him.

“Pathetic.”

Without hesitation it used its scythe-like claws to utterly gore the man, plunging into his gut like a knife through butter and scooping out his organs, watching with delight as the mans eyes rolled over in his skull and his body twitched on the ground.

After disposing of that one, the beast turned to the other man, who was still running down the street. It shook its head, before teleporting directly in front of the man. He shrieked in terror and fell backwards onto his ass, trying to drag himself away from the monster towering above him.

“G-get away from me man!! I-I got kids, no job, I-I g-gotta feed em’, they’ll starve!! PLEASE!!”

The beast let out another monstrous cackle, yellow eyes boring into the mans own wide ones.

“Good. That means I’m killing multiple pests in one.”

The thug tried to scream for help, or beg the beast not to hurt him, but he couldn’t get out one shrill word before all four large tentacles plunged clean through his abdomen, bursting out of the other side. He gagged, blood running from his mouth as the beast lifted him off of the ground with its bloodied tendrils, and he got one final, red-tinted glance at the horrific beast before his world went black. The tentacles split in all directions, and his body exploded. Bloody bits and chunks fell everywhere, even all over the beast, staining its clothes with red.

It grinned a sharp, evil grin.

“Four down, eight billion to go.”

The entire street was bathed in red, scattered with mangled bodys and body parts. A complete horror show for any unfortunate soul that were to happen upon it. UB-G seemed proud of its handiwork, until it heard a noise behind it. It snapped its head around, and glowing eyes caught sight of somebody hiding behind another building. Oh, a witness. Great.

With a smirk it teleported in front of the terrified person. A young man, shaking, whimpering and wide-eyed. He didn’t scream as the beast appeared in front of him.

He just stared, completely petrified.

The creature smirked down at him, using a tentacle to slowly wrap around his neck.

“Hello, boy. I know you saw all of that. And now you have to die, is that understood?”

The boy whimpered, tears falling from his face as he was lifted above the ground by his neck. The beast growled.

“Good, be quiet, and nobody else will have to see this….”

#gore tw #drugs tw #violence tw #rape tw #wow this is a doozy #ub-g #grimomcns #long post #loooong post #closed starter #just #trigger warning #in general #this one is fucked up #you have been warned #even i felt sick writing this shit okay

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little-owly · 7 years

Note

can i request Dark making Mark wet himself? 😈💖

pairing: dark/mark

warnings: wetting, violence, death threats, slight balls tourture (???)

(i carried away with this aaaaa pls forgive me)

Mark looked around he dim room, his eyes adjusting to the darkness.

“Wha-where?” he asked, his voice slurred. Panic filled him as he realized his hands were tied behind him, his legs tied to the chair he sat in. Ropes secured around his lower abdomen kept him tied to the creaky wooden chair. He gasped, the ropes worsening his need to urinate.

Mark began to pant, light filling the cold and empty room all at once. At last, he could make out his surroundings - an old run down basement of some sorts. Boxes and junk surrounded him and the chair. Collected dust and rusted walls upset him more. One detail he couldn’t get over was the tripod and camera in front of him. Wait…was it recording?

“Hello there,” said a mysteriously deep voice, he could almost swear it sounded like…, “I see you’ve finally woken up?”

Mark could feel his heart beating faster and faster as he realized who his attacker was. He gulped, trying to keep his composure - knowing the more he reacted, the longer he would keep this up.

“Why am I here?” Mark asked, cringing as his voice broke in between his words. His memories going back to other encounters with this attacker. His memories reminding him of the pain he brought onto him.

“You don’t remember me? That’s rude,” the other purred into his ear, “I’m you. The real you. The one who you keep hidden under that god awful positivity.”

A shiver of fear ran down Mark’s spine as he finally saw the figure move in front of him. It was him, or at least, he thought it was.

This twin of his was much more, alternative. The tips of his black hair dyed red, a black choker adorning his neck. This twin was clad in dark clothing, a matching red hoodie with the sleeves ripped off, a long sleeved black undershirt underneath. The twin’s wrists hidden away under thick spiked wristbands, fingerless gloves on his hands.

“Just call me Dark. Or if you want to get formal, Darkiplier,” he whispered, producing a small blade from the back pockets of his dark jeans.

“You know with this little thing,” Dark sighed, “and the right spot,” he continued, moving closer to Mark’s neck, “I could watch you gasp on your last bits of air - blood running down your chest?”

Mark began to shake, hyperventilating. He watched Dark laugh at his reaction, fear running through his veins as he questioned if this was it.

His questions were answered as he watched Dark slowly put the knife back to his pocket. His deep, rich, and identical, laugh quieting.

“Calm down, pussy. I’m not gonna do that today. Instead, I have a bit of a plan.”

He began to bite his lip, the adrenaline and fear making his control over his bladder worse. The ropes against his abdomen caused more pressure on his urge with each movement.

“You see, it’s not a secret you’re this huge star. Everyone looks up to you, millions of adorning fans watch your videos and donate to your charities,” Dark paused, turning back around to face Mark, “and I fucking despise it. I hate every little goody two shoes fan of yours and that goody two shoes reputation you have.”

“So here’s my plan, and why I have this little thing here,” he points to the camera, the red light blinking back at Mark, “let’s say, someone were to humiliate this famous ‘markiplier’. Let’s say someone were to record said humiliation and said recording landed in the wrong hands. Would your little fans still stick around when they’ve seen it? Would you still be seen as the good guy, or just become the butt of every joke, an absolute laughing stock?”

“Please,” Mark panted, “I’ll do anything, just don’t kill me. I have friends and family-”

Dark slapped Mark square across the face, his glasses flying off and hitting the cold ground below.

“Like I actually give a shit?! I could end you right fucking now! I could cut your throat open and watch you bleed out. I could slit your mouth ear to ear. I could gut you right now and not feel a fucking thing-”

Dark looked down, noticing movement out the corner of his eye. He could see Mark’s legs squirming, trying to close. He could definitely see Mark’s body quivering as he sobbed.

“It’s already kicking in, hasn’t it?”

Mark continued to sob, “what are you talking about?”

Dark slapped him once more, moving away from him to adjust the camera. He set the tripod much closer, getting Mark’s sitting body in the shot.

“What’s a matter? Are you actually scared, pussy?” Dark smirked, his voice somehow deeper than before.

Mark nodded, anything to keep Dark happy. Or at least content enough to not him him once more. He slowly realized Dark had hit him with the spikes on his wristbands, small droplets of blood trickling down his cheek.

“Stop moving your legs.” Dark commanded.

Mark sobbed as he returned to his normal position, or rather the position Dark tied him up in, legs spread wide and the ropes digging into his bladder.

“Now, I want you to tell me how badly you gotta piss, or else I will put you in a world of pain you would not believe. Understood?”

Mark nodded, watching as Dark got behind the camera. He began to sob once more, large tears spilling from the corners of his eyes.

“C-can I use the ba-bathroom? I need to go,” he cried, “please? I-I won’t tell a-anyone about this. I’ll keep qu-quiet. Just let me go to the bathroom.”

“Why?” Dark asked, encouraging Mark.

“Just let me go! Please, I’m b-begging you!”

Dark produced the knife again, making slow steps towards Mark. Mark yelled as he braced himself, not noticing the leak on his lap, sizable and dark.

“No! Please, no! I-I really need to pee, I can’t hold it in any longer. I can feel my own bladder throbbing. It hurts so bad to keep it all in,” he paused. Dark pointed to the wet spot on Mark’s lap. Mark cried as he swallowed his pride.

Anything to stay alive.

“I c-couldn’t hold it. S-see? I can’t hold it because I’m a scared l-little bitch. I can’t even hold my own p-piss like a normal person. Fuck, please let me go - I’m so close.” he gasped, letting his head drop.

Dark shook his head, a smirk plastered across his face. Mark lifted his head and cried out.

“It’s coming out, I can feel it coming out, oh god I’m going to piss myself here - fuck!”

Mark yelled, his voice hoarse, as his body shook violently. Stopping all at once, he could feel it. The warm wet urine running down his legs, under his ass, into his shoes. The hissing of the pee filling the silence of the quiet basement. Mark whimpered quietly as he continued to pee, the blue fabric of his jeans darkening. The pitter-patter of it hitting the hard floor below, the wooden material of the chair becoming completely soaked.

It took a long 2 minutes for Mark to finally stop, dropping his head in shame once more. Goosebumps running up and down his skin as he noticed the large off yellow puddle below him. He cried, feeling the pee under his ass.

“How fucking pathetic. Couldn’t even hold it in for a few minutes. Look at you did to my floor,” Dark said, stepping up to Mark.

Mark gasped as Dark lifted his leg to press his steel toed boots into his wet crotch. The disgusting sound of his soaked jeans and boxers making him cringe as Dark pressed harder and rougher. Directly into his balls.

“Fuck!” Mark cursed, his voice breaking. He wheezed as Dark continued to press further, the burning pain making him buck back further into the chair. Dark snarled, pressing his boot up further to step on Mark’s wet thighs.

“You’re fucking disgusting. Pissing yourself like some baby. Getting my chair and floor filthy, along with yourself. How fucking pathetic. It’s so laughable how embarrassing you look.”

Mark whimpered loudly. He watched Dark’s eyes widen before drawing his fist back, hitting Mark’s chin. Dark used his other hand, punching him once more in his right temple.

The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was Dark turning off the camera. In those last moments, Mark wondered if he’d wake up again. He wondered what would happen to his friends, his family, even Chica.

Then, there was light. Sudden and harsh light in his eyes. Mark shot up, worriedly looking around.

He gripped the sheets of his bed. Wait, when did he…? And what about Dark?

The sweet and relieving realization hit Mark. It was all a nightmare. A horrible nightmare. The pain, death threats, and utter fear was all an illusion. Even the humiliation and wetting - wait.

Mark pulled back his sheets and sighed. Nope, the wetting was real. His soaked pajama pants and sheets told him so. The still warm urine pooled under his lower half, surrounding him. With care, Mark slowly pulled off the wet sheets and blanket. He grabbed a towel before picking up the wet items and placing them in the wash.

He stepped into the bathroom, ready to turn on the shower when he heard a creak behind him. His blood ran cold as he quickly turned around. His fists clenched, ready to defend himself.

He saw nothing. Nothing but the open hallway and his reflection. He turned back, turning on the warm shower, and tried to ignore the fact he could just barely see a figure out the corner of his eye - one with red hair and black clothing.

#pissiplier #owlys fics

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