#a lil chunk of flesh and skin

[d10nyx]

meant to be yours

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, dead dove, unwilling cannibalism - reciever doesn't know! self-mutilation. obsessive, creepy, delusional reader. no real sex but masturbation n fantasies. very little smut and also a lil vomit.

a/n: idk why, but i... could not get this out of my head. been writing this the past few hours n it's now 1am... all i'm gonna say is read at your own discretion

word count: 1.9k words

There wasn't much good in your life. Not really. You'd never been one to talk much. No family, no friends. You spent most of your life working, dropping out of school, and saving money from a young age in order to pursue your one true passion - baking.

Opening up your own shop was hard. You went hungry most nights in order to skim a little cash from your dead-end job to be able to afford the down payment. But it worked. You had your own bakery, and business was booming.

For once in your life, you felt happy.

The day Leon came into the bakery for the first time changed everything. A festering desire found its way into your mind, an itch that wouldn't leave. He was your soul mate, you knew it. He was the sweetest thing you'd ever seen. So pure and untouched.

He made your skin crawl. You needed to be closer to him, to corrupt him in a way that no one would ever come close to you. You needed to be his, mind, body and soul. His smile made you nauseous. How many others had received that same smile?

No. You had to have him in a way no one else could.

You started experimenting. Simple things, really. Your love for him was all consuming, and you're sure in time he'd come to understand how much you worshipped him. He'd be appreciative of all you'd done for him once he found out.

It made it all worth it as you carved into your flesh for the first time. Your teeth clamped down on an old leather belt of yours to stiffle your screams, a piece of fabric tied tight around your thigh to slow the bleeding as you cut chunks of your flesh out.

The pain almost made you pass out, but you wouldn't let your weakness get in the way of showing devotion to Leon. You swallowed your bile as it rose up your throat, blinked past the blurriness of your tears.

You did your best to treat the wounds efficiently after. YouTube can only teach you so much, and your hands wouldn't stop shaking, so you couldn't wrap the bandage as tight as you should have. But that was okay. You couldn't go to the hospital, couldn't risk someone stopping your plan.

You swallowed some painkillers and went to bed, content with the knowledge that tomorrow was Saturday. That meant Leon would be coming. You had something really special for him.

You wake up with a hop in your step the next morning despite the excruciating pain you were in. You down more painkillers and pop the pack in your pocket, although it does little to dull your pain.

You grind the carefully harvested flesh down. You had already made the dough which had expanded nicely. This would have to be your best work, after all. You carefully lay out the necessary ingredients, combining them before placing the filling neatly into the dough.

You gather up the edges of the disc you'd made, folding them over the seasoned flesh and tucking them in to form a nice ball. You smile at yourself, feeling like you deserved a pat on the back. Once the egg wash is on, you place them into the oven and glance at the clock.

Perfect timing.

You smile and set up the rest of the bakery for opening. Once the buns are cooked, you take them out and place them in the back. You greet all the customers as friendly as always despite the burning in your thigh and the obsession making itself known in the forefront of your brain.

The closer it gets to Leon's usual entrance time, the more antsy you get. You can't keep still, shifting your weight between your feet as it becomes increasingly more difficult not to snap at every customer that walks in. They were all wasting your time.

Your eyes flick over to the clock on your wall constantly. The quiet ticking makes your eyes twitch and keeps your nerves on edge. You want to rip the clock from the wall and-

“Hey.” Your head snaps to the door. A smile makes its way to your face as you relax. Finally. You lean on the counter, your gaze trailing Leon's face appreciatively.

“Leon. Hi.” You breathe out, all the tension seeping out of your muscles. He makes all the pain you endured worth it, just to see his smile. “The usual?”

He nods softly, and you get to work packing his order. He likes to treat himself to a slice of cake and a pastry at the end of the week. It's the cutest thing ever to you, and you always like to throw in an extra little snack. On the house, of course.

“Hey, I tried something new today. Saved some for my favourite customer. Want to try it?” The festering in your mind returns tenfold. You didn't know what you'd do if he didn't accept. Your mind was screaming at you, wanting nothing more than to see him eat your flesh. To become one with you.

Please. Your mind supplies, your breathing growing shallow as you wait for his reply. The seconds feel like they stretch into hours, your nails digging into your palms and leaving little crescent shaped marks in the flesh.

“Sure! What did you make?” He asks, sweet as ever. The air you suck in after that satisfies your whole body, like the first breath of air after you'd been drowning. Your lungs stop burning, your mind stops screaming.

“I'm trying out some more savoury stuff. Trying to broaden my horizons, you know?” You say with a chuckle, stepping back to retrieve the tray. “I made some pork buns. Saved them just for you. They're all yours, if you like them.”

He lets out a laugh himself, eyes examining the food in front of him. “You're too good to me. These look amazing.”

Take one. Please. Just one.

“Ah, it's nothing.” You say causally, your eyes locked on his hands as they reach out for one of the buns. Your heart beats faster, feeling like it's about to break free past the cage of your ribs. “You're an officer. Just giving back.”

“Oh, is that what it is?” He says with an amused smile, finally picking up one of them.

Yesyesyesyes. Just a little longer.

It takes every ounce of willpower in you not to make a noise as he takes a bite. It's even harder to keep a neutral expression as he chews it, his eyes widening slightly. He swallows the bite, looks at you and grins. You lean forward, watching with morbid curiosity as his Adam's apple bobs, picturing the chunks of your flesh sliding down his throat.

“Wow! These are, like… really good. You should definitely start selling them.” He compliments, taking another bite. You watch him finish up the bun with increasing interest, your eyes practically sparkling with joy and your pussy throbbing with need.

“That's, um…” Your words come out shaky, so you clear your throat and try again. “Thank you. That means a lot. I'm really glad you liked it.”

“Did you need anything else today? Or is that all?” You ask politely, your hands idly brushing the edge of the counter - desperate for something, anything to ground you as you wait for his response. The anticipation was enough to drive you mad with desire, but you had to stay composed.

If only Leon could understand how much you truly wanted him. How much you needed him to see you, to really see you, not just look at you. What you'd do for him to touch you. Consume you. Become one with you.

“No, no. I think that's it.” He says with a head tilt, not looking unlike a puppy in that moment. You want to keep him in a little room, safe from the cruelty in the world. Maybe a cute little display case you dust off every day.

“Alright, no problem, then.” You say as you start to ring up his order, telling him the price and taking the money. “Let me just wrap these up, and you can be on your way.”

With practised ease, you quickly wrapped the ordered items in paper, making sure the wrapping is secure. Once done, you carefully place them into a brown paper bag, double checking everything was intact. Reaching out, you held it out towards Leon, a kind smile on your face as you tried to ignore the aggressive beating of your heart. Your hand shook slightly, yearning for contact. For just a tiny moment of skin on skin. "Here you go.”

“Thank you so much! I'll see you next week.” He tells you as he reaches for the bag, his fingers brushing yours lightly as he takes it, getting ready to leave the bakery.

"Have a wonderful day." You reply, your voice breaking slightly as you watch him walk away. Your eyes follow his form disappearing down the street until he was out of sight before you let out a ragged breath, collapsing against the counter. Today had been... too close. Too much contact. You needed to calm down.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Your mind wanders for the rest of the day, thinking about how satisfying it would be when you were finally his. You'd get him to accept your gifts with open arms. How could he not love you when he'd realised how much you'd sacrificed for him?

You wanted him to dip his tongue in your wounds, to thank you properly for the pain you'd sustained for him. You'd worship every inch of his body, give everything you'd had to him.

Oh, how good it would feel when he sunk his cock into you for the first time. You'd be perfect for him, open up so easily for him. You'd take every inch without complaint, let him fuck you as often as he wanted.

Maybe he'd sink his teeth directly into your neck when he realised how much he craved your flesh. You'd make him crave another taste. The thought made you shiver, arousal pooling into the gusset of your panties, making the fabric stick to you.

You closed up early to return to your apartment. You find your bed instantly, flopping down and stripping within seconds. You shove two fingers deep into your cunt as you pictured Leon fucking you. The sloppy wet noises fill your room as your moans echo off the empty walls.

Your free hand shifts to the wound on your thigh, and you press down harshly. You scream in pain, nausea hitting you instantly at the agonising pain. It's enough to make you cum, your pussy gushing around your fingers. You lean over the edge of the bed, throwing up onto the hardwood floor. You'd deal with it later.

You curl up into a ball, breathing heavily through tears and mucus as the burning sensation worsens. You can barely breathe through the acrid scent assaulting your senses. It was all worth it. You'd tear every muscle fibre of your body apart to show your reverence to Leon. No one can love him like you can.

You wouldn't be content until he devoured you whole. Not until your souls became intertwined and you were sure you'd plague his thoughts like he had plagued yours. His teeth would sink deep into the flesh of your still beating heart, and only then would he understand the extent to which you adored him.

His innocent appearance meant nothing when he could ruin you so completely with one simple look. One touch. One smile.

He already had.

#dark content #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x you #seriously... don't read this!

[mrraapeti]

Rift Universe Fruits

1. Chabba Fruit- Sun shaped sour fruit used for lemonade equivalents.  The swirl on the front tastes like cinnamon and is used as a baking ingredient.  

2.  Disapear Fruit- A fruit that tastes like a cross between an apple and a pear.  It disappears when it feels threatened.

3. Gem Fruit- A fruit with delicious flesh that can be eaten without peeling.  Seeds are poisonous.

4. Pie-Pie Fruit- Poisonous and bitter tasting medicinal fruit.  Once refined it can be used to ease indigestion.

5. Frostdrop Fruit-  Fruit that can only be eaten when frozen, lest it melt and become a horrid gooey texture.

6. Grabba Fruit-  Used in stews, a hearty ingredient.  Hallow center, thick but sharp outer spines.

7. Cabso Fruit- A fishy smelling fruit with a sweet cherry flavored center.  The flesh around the center is inedible.

8. Tabua Fruit- Fruit that tastes awful in its base state.  The unpleasant inside is dried and refined into a dust which is used as a spice.

9. Soogar Fruit- Fruit just filled with a sweet syrup.  Is refined into sugar.

10. Myo Fruit- A fruit that has the consistency and taste of raw mammal meat.  Must be cooked to achieve peak flavor.

11. Angel Fruit- A juicy and minty fruit that grows where it snows.  Can be eaten raw or put in a salad.

12. Foya Fruit- A fruit as juicy as an orange and as spicy as a chili pepper.  Great ingredient in hotsauce.

13. Olda Dona Fruit- A Dona fruit that's far too ripe, do not eat this.

14. Bagbang Fruit- Non edible fruit. Seeds are crushed and used as gunpowder.

15. Purpur Fruit- Fruit filled with fresh, sweet water.  Essential on planets with no source of fresh water.

16. Sako Fruit- Fruit shaped like a fish that actually tastes like Gushers.

17.  Cinnakinna- Only perfect for eating when it begins to drip frosting-like syrup.  Any other time it's mediocre.

18. Hottaddi Fruit- Fruit that, when boiled, can be opened and poured out to reveal a hot, sweet drink.

19.  Nuba Dona Fruit- A perfect Dona fruit, tastes like a frosted donut.

20. Shybell Fruit- Translucent fruit with a milky juice within.  Easy to digest and a common ingredient in teas.

Rift Universe Meats

1. Dragon Roast, tough, pressure cook it.

2. Trotters, Meatsaur.  Meatsaur's are alien dinosaurs genetically altered to be ideal food.  

3. Liver, Meatsaur liver

4. Bunbun Kidneys, a toxin/poison neutralizing organ.  Soaked 72hrs before cooking renders it edible.  But why would you eat in the first place, that's gross, they're people.

5. Angel wings, small, sold in pairs.

6. The leg and foot of an unnamed mining species.  Not recognized as a planet with intelligent life, they're free game.

7. Angel leg, fine meats in the Inferno.  Technically illegal but lol you gonna say no to a demon?

8. Demon leg, fine meats in the Inferno.  Yeah them demons be fucky.

9. Entire Side, is fuckin big, animal has pretty patterns on their meat cause they skin is see through.  They live on the cold,  dark portion of Planet Rift.

10. Drumstick, Demon again, but this is pretty big and is usually fried specifically.

11. American-Style Roast, made of the native species of planet Rift, Moomkeys.  No one is safe.

12. Kallopian leg.  They lil predatory horses, but intelligent.  Everyone is food.

13. Tomahawk Steak, a fuckin frog thing, nothing special about them other than they hail from Kallop like the Kallopians.

14. Kabab chunks, angel.

15. Bunbun loin, falls apart when overcooked.

16. Ghost Filet, super hard to get so expensive.  Like not even sold to financially underwhelming people.  Tastes like fish.

17. T-Bone, unnamed slum animal.  Common meat eaten by the people at the Base of Rift City's buildings.  Tastes like 'gator.

18. Trotters, human hands.  We are all meat.

19. Angel Wing, large, sold individually.

20. Meatsaur Tongue, eaten by higher class Rift residents.

21. Meatsaur strips, for your fussy lil baby who demands tendies.

22. Demon Bacon, tastes like sin. 

23. Macro Ham, made from different cuts of Macros, giant insects, all glued together.  Presented as cold cuts.

24. I may have mis-numbered the picture.

25. Bunbun Arms, chewy.

26. Dragon Neck, enjoyed by older Rift generations.  Not very good really but it's TRADITION.

27. Ribs, unnamed giant bird found on rift.  Kinda cruel to eat this considering the birds are peaceful.

28. Sard Tail, like eating a fucking fetus you monster.  Sards reproduce by budding, dropping their tail end so it can reform into a new Sard.  You're awful for eating this.

Rift Universe Plants

1. Sky Bush, a bush that floats through the air.  Good luck to spot one.

2. Mercy Belles, flower named after an act performed in Rift's history.  A pair of frighten sisters offered these flower to a Rift colonizer as they begged for their life.  They were not spared.  Bad luck to give one to someone you like.

3. Coro Tree, secretes a sap that eats away at the tree itself.  

4. Peaktre Tree, small tree often trimmed into shapes.  Sprouts flowers on the leafy portion a translucent reflective dangly flowers below.

5. Hoverleaf bush, remarkable due to the fact that the leaves float, but is otherwise poisonous.

6. Devil's Tail stalk, secretes a tasty yet often throat-closing sap.

7. Brealla, tall stalks of harmless plant that can be used a defense against Rift's acid rain.

8. Marsh Mall, mushroom that tastes like chocolate and gets you high as fuck.  Dangerous in high doses.

P. Fliver, mobil plant native to Kallop.

10. Relp Cabbage, loved by herbivores of Rift.

11. Triproot, root-system that relies on its preytripping and falling into it's tendrils.

12. Speaksies, aka Screamers.  Replays what it hears to excess when a living thing nears it.  Fields of these flowers are  completely devoid of any life with a heartbeat.

13.  Scarebros, also found in fields but uses a humanoid figure to deter other humanoids from nearing it's flower.  Grows  better in well cared-for farms, humanoid figure can be harvested as farm-animal feed.

14. Orbit Berries, tastey!  Picks up small objects and flings them at enemies.

15. Space Rose, the first flower found by human astronauts.  Not really a flower, it's a demon below the planet they were on.

16. Garlands, leaves that grow from a mold found only on ceilings.

#plants and herbs #flowers #plants #art #concept art #graphic design #fruits #alien #alien flower #alien fruit #alien meat #raw meat #cuts of meat #my art

[kazimakuwabara]

I Care About You

Summary: Prompt taken from: https://hellsdemonictrinity.tumblr.com/page/5

Hiei hates Kuwabara. He doesn't care. Kuwabara is a fool. So is Hiei. (platonic or romantic) tw: for blood and violence

***

“Kuwabara! Kuwabara!” Hiei snapped, the bars of the cage keeping him pressed low. They were sharp, and without his cloak or shirt, they bit into his skin. Pricks of his own blood dripped down his body, but it meant nothing in the wake of Kuwabara’s blood that wafted in the air. The scent heavy and thick.

The dragon prickled beneath his arm, unsettled and hot, aching. It did not normally stir beneath his flesh and demand release. But it was fighting Hiei today.

Kuwabara was flat on his back. His hands were stretched out from his body, and Hiei could just touch the palm of the human’s hand if he reached out enough. 

“Wake up you oaf!” Hiei snarled.

He could not see Kuwabara’s face. It was turned away from him. Kuwabara was bruised and bloodied, Hiei had seen that much. They had hurt him, but Kuwabara had stood on his feet. He’d fought like a starving beast in Hiei’s defense. But Kuwabara was an untrained animal against devils.

He’d not been easy to overtake, but they had overtaken him in the end.

“Kuwabara!” Hiei snarled again.

What was it he had said to Kuwabara? At Yusuke’s ramen stand, three nights ago?

Three nights ago, Kuwabara had been dressed in blue, and had laughed at Hiei’s indifference. His outrage. His denial.

“You do care about me, you lil' shrimp!” Kuwabara laughed. He was honest, cocky, and incredibly sure.

Hiei had picked up the chopstick dispenser from Yusuke’s bar and chunked the whole thing at Kuwabara, knocking him from his stool. Yusuke had exploded into laughter, while Kurama set to scolding Hiei, and helping Kuwabara up. Kuwabara whined, snapped, and then had the audacity to laugh when Kurama got him back on his feet.

“I don’t give a shit about you!” Hiei snarled.

Kuwabara rolled his eyes, and sniffed, “Likely story!”

Hiei threw the napkin dispenser after that, but Kurama caught it giving Hiei a clear look of warning. Hiei had left. He was not to be scolded like a child. They should scold Kuwabara.

He was the idiot who thought they were friends.

Disgusting!

He was the idiot who was on his back now, because he wouldn’t leave Hiei alone to deal with the surprise attackers. If Hiei hadn’t been able to handle them, Kuwabara was a fool to try. Still he tried. He had tried.

“Fuck,” A demon snarled, wiping his chin, “What a strong bastard. No, no, leave him! We ain’t got time for this shit! Get the left side, I’ll get the right.

They make for the cage, its bars humming audibly in Hiei’s ears. Whatever these bars are, they make Hiei weak, weak, weak! He hates it! Hiei snarls and snaps, and the dragon presses against the confinement it is trapped in.

“Fool, fool, you are acting the fool,” it mocks.

One demon steps towards Hiei's cage, and Kuwabara is back up. His palm is gone from Hiei’s fingertips. White teeth emerge from dripping blood and sink into the flesh of one of Hiei’s captors' ankles. Kuwabara bites until he makes the demon bleed, and a rich purple color adds to the bloody spray on Kuwabara's face. Kuwabara bites harder.

Kuwabara’s eyes are open, and the whites of his eyes are pink, and his irises are pinpricks, and unseeing. His hands are like claws in the demon's calf, and his teeth are fangs, and Kuwabara is a beast. He growls as the demon howls with pain.

‘They’re on their way,’ Kuwabara’s voice wafts through Hiei’s head. A visitor passing by.

Hiei watches as a heavy boot slams into Kuwabara’s head. Kuwabara’s bloodied face surely can’t handle the heavy blow, but he takes three of them before his teeth quit sinking into the flesh of the assailant.

In the back of his head, Hiei senses Kurama and Yusuke. The cavalry.

“You care about me,” Kuwabara had teased three nights ago.

“Fool, fool,” says the dragon under Hiei’s skin, “Wait any longer and it’ll be too late. Give me the reigns. Let go.”

They go for the killing blow, and Hiei lets go. The dragon of the darkness flame rips out of his body, and Hiei does not know how he can do it now when he has been trying to use the Dragon this whole time. The cage shatters, the ground breaks, and the assailants become something less than dust. Less than a stain.

Kuwabara lies untouched by the dragon on the ground, and when the dragon fades, Hiei drops next to him. He puts a hand on the back of Kuwabara’s neck, and searches for a pulse. Searches for proof of life.

“Hiei! Hiei!” Kurama calls, his voice drawing near.

Yusuke is screaming too, though Hiei can’t make them out.

‘I don’t, I don’t, I don’t!’ Hiei thinks shaking as he searches for signs of life against Kuwabara’s red, red, soaked skin.

“You do,” Kuwabara says from his memories as Hiei detects, at last, a very weak pulse.

Hiei falls, collapsing with his arm around Kuwabara’s shoulders. He stares into the red mess of Kuwabara’s face and hair, unable to see the human’s features clearly under the massive beatings. He doesn't care.

He doesn’t, but he does.

He stays awake long enough to be sure they’ve reached Kuwabara in time before he passes out.

#kazi fanfic #yyh #hiei #Kazuma kuwabara #kuwabara #tw: blood and violence #friendship #angst #romance #if you want romance :3

[mushroom-for-art]

I really be out here making a Mayverse with how many different versions there are, whoops, enjoy!

So Canon May the baby girl little daft lil dumb not many powers but full of love

Anti May I'm sad I missed this original trend but here be the girl, she is self confident and only cares about herself spending most of her time in the sky rather than the ground, doesn't forgive humans for what they did to her and has no interest in befriending other twos, cautious paranoid trusts no one. Very incredibly powerful but only for herself struggles to use powers to help others or in a desperate pinch. Just kinda mean

Perfect May, this referring to her not being physically stunted and full access to powers ect she is perfect in the eyes of scientists no mega stone more saturated and vibrant beloved (and full of trauma)

Shadow May! Sneak peak into her end look when I kick my ass into finishing the story, because she accepts the corruption willingly she fucking glows for it literally normally she's dull grey dull freckles dull tail but this willing corrupt state causes her to burn so bright tummy and freckles aglow with sparkles of synergy under her skin

Perfect Shadow, what happens when you take a traumatised xl May and slam her up into a cave ceiling and she gets synergy lodged in her lower back/beginning of tail? This. This happens. Cruel and self serving, her trauma has become somewhat twisted she still wants to be around other twos to have and protect but it's warped causing her to not be the healthiest about it ready to give them her corruption to join her join her so they can't fade and leave her. Her instincts and primal wants are running high, desiring companionship and ready to devour other pokemon for their flesh and life force

Poached, this one was mentioned briefly in a multiverse fic, this May was like canon May once but was captured in a darkball that broke apart her body while warping her stats to max level, the process of forcing her body to it's maximum potential and strength saw altered concentrated Mewtwo cells be placed into the gaps where her body was broken, essentially she had that bone breaking height surgery but it added chunks of new mewtwo segments to her body making her taller and like a normal mewtwo but warping her physically so she looks incredibly strange but is very powerful and it is best to not approach her while she's still in control of the darkball as she can't hear you.

Battle ring is a kind of joke au between me and @xhunterbeatsx where May gets captured and put in a battle ring hence the name but is given synergy iv supplements much like their Syn does to make her more powerful/improve her performance/actually activate her power. Because of the synergy exposure shes started to get a bit of Jekyll and Hyde syndrome with her hand that's starting to be affected by the synergy twitching and moving on its own, she has also gain a more deranged unhinged disposition due to constant beatings in fights and the fact her autonomy is essentially violated over and over as she's forcefully needled to be given the drugs even tho she had tried begging pleading crying for them not to, at this point she's given up trying to stop them and is a bit unhinged with newcomers and dirty lmao she's dusty as I imagine the battle area is like sand/dirt floor

Corrupt Battle is obviously what will eventually become of her, the synergy crystals accumulating under the scar tissue where she's been repeatedly jabbed her hand is still quite Hyde to her Jekyll and probably acts following the synergys command, she's probably a bit more broken now and would let the corruption take over her

And finally Amputee May an au of an alternative au ending that's not canon XD because I got attached. If you've not read the fic or seen the art May gets a huge crystal lodged in her leg and falls to corruption but is saved later by Syn and Darkness but in the meantime her leg below the crystal had become rotten from the wound and lack of blood ect and could've be saved so in the process of deshadowing her she lost her leg, her hues don't fully recover from her corruption either leaving her dull and her freckles ashy and she's understandably quite depressed here for it all, her scelara are slightly grey too to indicate that although she's cursed the corruption still claimed part of her soul

God that was depressing, have an Ourple! Because I wanted to see what she'd look like as a purple mewtwo instead of her usual color, ngl don't lie it as I did only color shift it looks strange but she cute

#my art #my oc #Tw bruises #Tw blood #Tw wound #Tw bleeding wound #Tw scars #Tw stitch scars #Tw crystals in skin #Tw dark content #Tw needles #Lore/vague write up under read more #And I'm not even fully done I've got like 4 more mays to do tho 3 are from a singular au I'm just burnt out rn XD #Been looking at her too long

[forthedancingandthethriving]

Tw: torture, gore, mutilation, violence, blood, sadism? (Forum is really sadistic in this)

Forum is normally the more calm of the two USBs. Calm, collected, polite, all of those things.

But now, he was anything but.

Steam rolls and pours out of his mouth. He glares down at the entity. It cowers beneath his gaze.

Interesting. he remarks. How interesting that you think I wouldn't notice the little trick you were trying to play.

He grabs the entity by its throat and lifts it. He doesn't even budge with how it struggles. Harming me is one thing. But disguising yourself as me and going and wreaking havoc?

And then trying to kill Domain, Four, Three, and Lil Coding? he slowly smirks down at it.

Forum chuckles lowly, hologram glitching.

That, my friend, is where I draw the line.

The entity screeches and tries to run, but Forum's gloved fingers manage to puncture its skin. It writhes around in his grip, shrieking in a language he understands but couldn't care to listen to.

The creature gurgles and cries as blood slowly fills its throat. It thrashes around weakly before Forum throws it to the ground. It doesn't get any respite, however, as the hologram lifts his foot and stomps down on its knee, shattering its bones.

The creature shrieks and Forum grins madly.

He lifts his foot again and stomps down on its other knee, shattering it also. The entity shrieks again, trying to crawl away. He doesn't allow it to get far.

The hologram kneels down and grabs its right thigh. With a harsh pull, the leg comes right off, and blood begins to pour out. The creature screams, and Forum laughs.

What are you screaming for? he taunts, grinning madly still. Do you think I'm going to stop?

He rips the leg in two and tosses the pieces to the side. He slowly walks up to the creature, which is desperately trying to crawl away as quickly as it can. He grabs it by its remaining ankle and drags it back to him, disregarding its screams.

With a yank, it tugs off its last leg. His gloved fingers dig into the flesh before ripping off a chunk, and then another. Blood drips from the wounds that Forum inflicts.

With a bored sigh, he tosses it off to the side. His gaze lands back on the creature, which is writhing in pain again.

He walks over to it and grabs it by its neck. He lifts it up, watching with a smile as blood drips from its two wounds. He shakes off a blood-soaked glove, the clothing falling to the ground. His fingers turn to claws and with only a seconds pause, he punctures the creatures stomach.

He slowly rakes his fingers down and slowly tears apart its flesh. The creature cries in pain as Forum rips off a chunk of its flesh and tosses it to the ground.

This is therapeutic for me. Forum smiles, making the creature shudder. I haven't had much time to relax, so this is fun!

He rips off another chunk of its flesh, and more blood stains him.

I can't wait to have more fun! Forum laughs, smile turning to a manic grin.

...

"Oh, you're back!" Meggy smiles as she sees Forum enter. The hologram looks a bit scuffed up, but other than that, he looks fine.

Yes, I managed to get rid of the creature. But how are the others? he frowns.

"They'll be fine." Meggy walks over and pats his back. "The stress gave Four and Three fevers, and Domain and Lil Coding are in deep sleep. They'll be up soon."

Forum nods, a pleased hum escaping him.

"Hey, where's your glove?" she points at his hand.

The USB pauses and looks down. He chuckles lightly.

I must have dropped it somewhere.

#factory reset in progress #!posts! #fanfiction: my writing! #usb: smg4 #tw mutilation #cw mutilation #tw gore #cw gore #tw violence #cw violence #tw sadism #tw torture #cw torture #tw blood

[dontf8arthereaper]

Meanwhile...

Through south germany and the rest of the world still in shambles the twin tailed black cat besides a vending machine whilst eating the carcasses of satoris and eating the third itself, along with the rest of the bodies along with the moon rabbit corpses. The feline is having a time with her life while Exta is no where to be found, or so we thought as the vending machine next to her felt off as the machine has a dark aura surrounding it but the twin tailed feline did not mind at all.

Suddenly sparks flying and cracks emerged from the vending machine shattering apart into a cyclone reforming itself to be the ady slate horror Exta who was taking the guise of that said vending maxhine, the master of deceit and the master shapeshifting horror who now hunts into the darkness under the eclipse with her cat companion. She' s very impressed with the fresh kill.

Walking over towards the black cat she now hunch over to the feline's level with a soft smile on her face. The spider horror softly strokes the feline on the back while she eats her meal.

" Enjoying your meal? "

The feline looked up at the spider horror and meowed in rather joy while she chews up a chunk of flesh and skin swallowing it whole.

" Hell yeah I am, meow. "

" Just making sure little one, the darkness is still young, you know what the means right? "

" Hmm? More food? Corpses? "

" Mhm, more corpses for good lil' pitiful creatures such as yourself and I... "

And so the black cat gave her companion a sinister grin she she suddenly transformed. The cat reveals herself to the be infamous corpse loving kasha, the former familiar of the Komeiji family Orin Kaenbyou now into the scene besides her ready to kill and even collect the fresh corpses for her collection.

" Hell yeah! Now we're talking! Let' s get our asses on the road and kill some bitches! "

Orin reach from behind her back pulling out a hand crafted lever action rifle made from the skin and bone of moon rabbits and the humans alike. To think a horror achieve the impossible, but here we are Yokai and horror becoming one like a spider made symbiosis with a small frog. It's showtime.

#muse: Orin Karnbyou #||| dont fear the reaper ||| #meow meow motherfucker #the frog and the spider

[brutal-nemesis]

E&T Atonement AU-Sample Collection

Aight I return to y’all with this sexi lil bitch. Medical accuracy? Never heard of her 

←Previous - Erebus & Terror Masterlist - Next→

Ingredients: giant needle hours, lab whump, fingernail whump

That was, without a doubt, the largest needle he had ever seen. It was freakishly long and impossibly thick, and he couldn’t imagine it was for drawing blood.

He whined in terrified anticipation as Neteri sterilized part of his upper right arm, and did his best to keep himself from crying out into the gag as she cut out a small chunk of his skin and muscle. Then came the needle, sliding through the opening in his flesh. A shiver went up his spine as he felt it tap against bone, but oh, it didn’t stop there, it kept pushing, pressure building up against his bone until it punched through with a sickening crack. He screamed as a bolt of pain shot up his arm, shuddering as he felt the needle slide deeper inside his bone.

The needle stayed in there for a few minutes, drawing out whatever it was she wanted from in there. He kept his gaze focused on the now-blank ceiling, tears watering out his vision every few moments. He can never seem to stop crying nowadays, and today is no exception. When she slid the needle back out he couldn’t help but whine, escalating into a scream as her healing magic closed up the hole she’d made in his arm.

Something cold touched an equivalent spot on his left arm, and his heart sank. She was going to do the same thing again, wasn’t she? Yes, yes, once again his flesh was cut out and collected, once again the huge needle punctured his bone, once again everything was painfully healed up like nothing had ever even happened.

Next, she gripped his right thumb tightly, keeping his hand still, and he didn’t understand why until he felt something grab onto his fingernail and start to pull. He screamed but she kept pulling despite his muffled pleas of no no wait stop please I won’t ever try to run please- The pitch-black nail wrenched free, choking an inhuman cry out of him as raw agony raced up his entire arm. The pain almost doubled as she started healing it, forcing the fingernail to grow back unnaturally fast, wrenching out all manner of wails.

Even when the healing and the pain finally stopped, it was still too much. He sobbed, what was even the point of this if she was just going to heal everything back up? But he knew why, he knew all too well she was just taking away pieces of him so she could study them. It was all he was good for now, being sliced up and studied and put on display-

Her hand wrapped around his left thumb, pliers gripping the nail.

He screamed before she even started pulling.

Next→

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @galaxywhump @as-a-matter-of-whump @mnmlover2002 @tears-and-lilies @yet-another-heathen @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @starnight-whump @unicornscotty @thebewilderer @kixngiggles @itallstartedwithharry

#i wrote something #erebus & terror #atonement au #erebus #neteri #lab whump #needles #fingernail pulling #fingernail whump #the saddest thing in this entire au is the removal of rat zander #he has been scrubbed from the ceiling but not from our hearts #like ill fuckin slice this mans open and be all whatever but what gets me is rat zander being gone like nooooo ; __ ; #he will never die in canon he will live on forever as best ceiling boy dont worry #this snippet is just: erebus cries and screams for 20 min (little fuckin bitch) #neteri is just gettin some samples to compare his two arms #she's collecting bone marrow with the needle #a lil chunk of flesh and skin #and a fingernail from each hand #it's on the list of ''things she would like to investigate but wouldnt normally do to him because that would be cruel'' #because really if he behaves she doesnt want to be mean to him #but now is the time to completely destroy any resistance he might have so no holding back for her #me: i dont have the mental energy to do shit rn #also me: writes this bullshit #seriously 2 of these au pieces were written during my breaktime hours #but i couldnt even post them right away because posting writing is too anxiety inducing to do unmedicated so it was just sitting there #waiting #but maybe it was like ''i feel like shite time to pull off erebus's fingernails about it'' #i love nothing more than hurting my little toy :) he deserves it

[fukurodianthus]

Its just skin

Synopsis: Self-love is not something that comes to you naturally. Years of self-depreciation makes it difficult to grow into the habit of loving yourself despite of the scars peppered across your skin.

But with your fiancé, Tooru Oikawa, you find yourself stealing glances into mirrors quite often. It catches you by surprise when you find yourself...beautiful?

Pairing: Tooru Oikawa X fem!reader

Genres: tooth-rotting fluff , a lil bit of angst thrown in

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: The reader suffers from body positivity issues and insecurities regarding her appearance.

Author’s note at the end!

(p.s. didnt proof read because im ✨lazy✨ might do it later when im feeling cute idk)

“Y/N-chan, can we leave already? We’re getting late for the party” Oikawa whined, tugging the sleeve of your shirt lightly.

“Tooru, stop being so impatient!” You pushed your whiny fiancé away and concentrated on covering up the acne scars and freckles peppered across your face with layers of concealer. No matter how much you tried, you could never make your skin look half as perfect as that of the girls who dominated your Instagram and YouTube feed. Every time you looked in the mirror, the taunting voices of your family members and friends would creep into your mind.

Oh my god! Whats wrong with your face?

Don’t you wash your face properly?

You’re never going to get married if you look like that Y/N! Do something about that face of yours!

Do you want me to recommend a good dermatologist to you?

No matter what the topic of the conversation was, people always found a way to bring up the topic of your skin condition in it. You could be talking about quantum physics for all they cared, they would somehow find a way to bring up the topic of your skin.

But they didn’t know all those sleepless nights you had spent on the internet looking for remedies, they didn’t know how you cried yourself to sleep every night, praying that you’ll somehow find that your skin had magically healed up when you woke up. But miracles didn’t happen in this world. At least for you, they didn’t.

You spent a humongous chunk of your salary buying medicines, serums, anything skincare specialists would recommend to you. But none of it could you fix you. Ultimately it all ended up in the trash and you ended up on the bathroom floor, sobbing as you looked into the mirror, face contorted with disgust and self-loathing.

But then, Oikawa Tooru stepped into your life. The first person who didn’t grimace as he looked at your face. He looked at it with childish wonder in his eyes, as if he was looking at something…beautiful?  Every night, when you fell asleep in his arms, his fingers softly grazing your cheeks, you felt an unfamiliar warmth blossom inside your heart. If he could love you despite your flaws, what was stopping you from doing it?

But years of self-depreciation made it difficult to develop the habit of loving yourself. There are still moments when you found you yourself drowning in self-hatred.

Take the present moment, for instance.

No matter how much concealer you caked on your face, it didn’t look half as good as you wanted it to. You let out a frustrated groan as you plopped down on the bed. How could you go to the party looking like this, especially when Oikawa would be by your side? Everyone’s appearance paled in comparison to his flawless beauty. Then how could you, of all people, ever stand beside him as an equal? You knew everyone would be comparing you with him behind your back, their jealousy-tinged voices emphasizing on how someone like you didn’t deserve to be with him. You’d always be an undeserving lover for him in their eyes.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Oikawa’s voice was laced with heavy concern. “Do you feel sick? I told you to not eat that expired candy bar last night, but you didn’t listen-”

“Tooru, its not that. I think I look very fucking ugly right now and I can’t bear to look at myself in the mirror. I can’t go to the party right now, not when I’m feeling like this.” You buried your face in a soft cushion and let out a frustrated groan as you turned over on the bed.

“Y/N, did you start putting yourself down again?” You felt him plopping down beside you on the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Tooru, don’t lie to me, my skin still looks just as bad as ever.”

“You know, sometimes I wonder if astral projections are real.”

“What? Have you finally lost it?” Your widened eyes searched his face, trying to make sense of his words.

“If it was real, then I’d pull your soul out of your body make you look at your face through my eyes. Because there’s clearly something very fucking wrong with your eyes if you cannot see how damn pretty you are.” Tooru huffed, looking at you nonchalantly as if he was stating the obvious.

“Tooru-” you whimpered, turning on your side to face him.

Tooru and his horrible pickup lines.

Gosh, how can I not love him?

His chocolate-brown eyes softened as he pulled you into his chest. The sound of his heartbeat drowned all the cacophony of all the negative thoughts cluttering your mind.

“Y/N, I thought love at first sight was way too cheesy and corny to be real. But then, one day, back in high school, I saw Iwa-chan talking to you. You looked so fucking pretty, you know? The way you’d bite your lips when you were confused, the way you’d look down and let your hair cover your face whenever you were flustered, it was so damn adorable. I might have gone down on my knees right then, if Iwa-chan hadn’t been there. He’d beat the living crap out of me for playing my ‘disgusting tricks’ on his friend.” Oikawa took your hands in his and slowly drew circles on your palm with his thumb.

“Iwa wouldn’t have to beat you up, I’d do it without a second thought if you pulled any of that shit on me. I always found you very bratty, clinging to Iwa with that radioactive sweet smile of yours.”

“Wow, I was head over heels in love with you on first sight, while your first impression of me was that I’m a brat? No wonder you were Iwa-chan’s friend, you both are so mean.” He pouted, looking at you with playful annoyance.

“That was before I got to know you. Your brattiness started growing on me, gradually. Now I’m so used to it, I think I’d forget how to breathe if I didn’t hear your annoying voice every morning.” You chuckled at how his face kept getting redder with every insult that you threw at him.

“You’re used to my brattiness? Are you implying I’m still a brat?”

“Exactly. Looks like you do have a brain.”

“The most amazing setter on this planet doesn’t have a brain, is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but instead of asking me out on a date directly, you bugged Iwa to set us up on a date until he finally shouted at you in the middle of an English class, saying ‘Alright, Shittykawa, I’ll set you up on a date with Y/N, now stop running that fucking stupid mouth of yours.’ " You stole a glance at his face, savoring his flustered expression. "I’m right, am I not?”

Oikawa’s face reddened to the extent where it seemed that he would spontaneously combust at any moment.

"Tooru, c'mon, we both were emotionally constipated fools who could never ask each other out if Iwa hadn't stepped in." You softly ran your hands over his chest, savoring the warmth radiating from him. "Now stop pouting Brattykawa."

"You and Iwa-cha, both of you can never appreciate me before backtracking, huh?" He ran his fingers through your tangled hair, slowly massaging your scalp.

He knew it always calmed you down.

"Hey, did you really find me pretty that day?" You mind went back to how you looked the day when Oikawa first saw you. Greasy hair stuck to your face, cavernous dark circles covering your under eyes, face swollen as a result of pulling all nighters for a whole week. How could anyone, let alone Oikawa find you pretty when you looked like that?

"Can you not hold a conversation for 5 seconds without putting yourself down, huh?"

" I dont think I can Tooru. It still weirds me out that you, of all people found me beautiful when I looked like such a mess."

"Y/N I think we really need to try astral projections now-"

"Tooru, I'm serious-" You whined.

He chuckled, twilring your hair in his fingertips. "Y/N, after being with you for so long, I've realized something. You look for validation in the eyes of people who couldn’t care less about you. But when finally, someone who really cares for you and sees you as who you are tells you that they are truly beautiful, you brush it off. Why do you pretend that our compliments aren't heartfelt? Why are you so scared of being appreciated?"

Every day, when he saw you stealing glances into the mirror, he noticed how disappointment flashed across your face. He knew how you beat yourself up for not being pretty enough. You were never enough for yourself.

If your mind was a place, he’d waltz into it, shredding the self-destructive thoughts gnawing at you sanity into pieces. He’d untangle the mess inside your head, shattering the walls that bars genuine compliments reach your heart.

Oikawa wasn’t the best with words, not at times like this. But he’d give it his best.

He could feel the wet spots blossoming on his shirt, as you buried your face deeper into his chest.

"Oi!  You dummy! Are you crying?"

"To-Tooru I just think th-that I d-don’t deserve your love because I'm not as good looking as-" You choked out in between an onslaught of sobs.

“Hey. Hey, look at me.” He cupped your flushed cheeks and lifted your chin up, his eyes scanning your face in concern.

“Those fucking stupid scars on your face don’t define who you are, okay? Its just skin, Y/N, you are so much more than just…a piece of skin, you know? Honestly, we’re all just bags of flesh and bones if you look at it that way. Do you think I loved you because you were a particularly pretty bag of flesh and bones?” Even though you found his analogy slightly funny, you noticed how his face lit up with passion so you refrained from making any sarcastic comments. He was trying his best.

“Continue, Tooru. I’m listening.”

“I love you because of who you are. I love the way your lashes flutter when we stargaze on the roof every night, I love you how your hair is a tangled mess when you wake up, I love how your puff your cheeks in annoyance when I stop you from over-drinking coffee every night, I love how you whine when you spend hours trying to get your eyeliner right, only to end up smudging it when you rub your eyes absent-mindedly, I love how your eyes light up when I put an extra spoonful of Nutella in your sandwich…gosh, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

Your grip on his hoodie tightened. He looked at you, breathlessly, scanning your face for a reaction.

Your stared at your reflection in his chocolate-brown eyes, struggling to find the right phrases to express the way his words made you feel. You felt your heart race as if it was beating in pace with a rhythm set in by a drug-induced ecstasy.

What would you call this feeling of warmth that washed over you with every syllable he uttered?

“Thank you.” You wondered if you could’ve said anything better to express how much his words meant to you. God, where were a the fancy words you had learnt from corny YA romance books when you needed them?

But he didn’t need to hear your words to know that you’d been moved by his words. Fancy phrases could never tell him what the faint rosy glow of your cheeks could.

“Stop thanking me for stuff like this. It’s my duty, Y/N. I’m your fiancé for fuck’s sake.”

“You’re such a sap Tooru.” You giggled, squishing his cheeks softly.

“Yeah but you’re hopelessly in love with this sap, so deal with it.” His grip around your waist tightened as he nuzzled his face on your neck, his hot breath fanning across your collarbones.

“Now let me go Shittykawa, we have a party to attend.” You pried his arms off your waist and sat up.

“Babe, we’re about to get married in a few months, you really need to drop that stupid nickname.”

“Hmm, let me think.” Cocking your head to your side, you pretended to be immersed in deep thought. “Nope, not happening.”

“Don’t blame me for what happens next.” Oikawa sat up and tackled you to the bed, pinning your wrists by your side.

“Ooh, now that’s hot, Tooru”

“You know whats hotter Y/N?”

“What?”

“This.” He didn’t give you a chance to respond as his hands slid down to your waist. Your breath hitched in anticipation.

And then he started tickling you.

You broke out in an uncontrollable fit of laughter, kicking him, trying to get him to stop.

Two minutes later, you both lay side by side, panting, faces flushed with breathless fits of laughter.

You caught a glance of your face in the bedside mirror.

Even with your reddened face, tangled hair and smudged mascara, you looked…beautiful.

You felt beautiful.

As you nuzzled your face on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat rumbling in your ears, his words kept replaying in your mind.

“Its just skin, Y/N.”

Author’s note: ahhhhh I kinda wrote this in a flow?? Its a comfort fic/drabble???Idk what this is tbh. This is very self indulgent because I’ve suffered from skin problems(cystic acne ugh🤢) all my life, so I decided to comfort myself through this fic 🥺👉👈 . If only I had an Oikawa in my life 😩✋

N E ways, drink water, get enough sleep(lmao the irony that I’m saying this-) and remember to love yourself because you are beautiful!😤❤️I’ll come for your kneecaps if you put yourself down🤩🔪.

Reblogs would be highly appreciated!

#haikyuu #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu comfort #tooru oikawa #oikawa #tooru oikawa fluff #oikawa fluff #oikawa x you #oikawa x reader #oikawa x y/n #tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa x fem!reader #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #hqradiostation

[theonewiththefanfics]

Come Back To Me (one-shot)

Synopsis: Bucky Barnes has gone through hell and back to reach his happiness, and his happiness came in the form of the love of his life. But what happens when she’s ripped away? What happens when she comes back and can no longer be happy herself? How does he get her back

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Genre: AAAAANNNNNGGGGGSSSTTT, sooooo much angst. Lil bit of fluff as well (also, we’re gonna pretend like Endgame didn’t really happen, and WandaVision wasn’t as emotionally devastating), smut

Warnings: extreme sadness, depression, refusal to eat, unprotected sex, allusion to ra*e, but not the act. if there is anything else, please let me know and message me :) (MINIMALLY EDITED)

Word count: 9301 (it gon be a ride)

Bucky’s been scared many times in his life before. He wouldn’t admit that out loud, but most of the time, even as the Winter Soldier, he was terrified. Afraid to fail and of the consequences that would follow, afraid to succeed and have another person’s blood on his hands, afraid to look in the mirror, for the face staring back at him wasn’t quite his own, and even afraid to sleep in the dark, terrified the spirits of his victims would come out for revenge. But he’s never been as scared as he was in that moment, pointing a gun at the head of the love of his life, while she did the same, only without any clue as to who Bucky was.

           His mind was still processing how they’d gotten in that position, and it refused to accept it, because nothing, not a single thing had clued him in on how that day could turn south so quickly.

           It had started off as usual with Bucky’s flesh hand sliding down Y/N’s naked spine, as she had her face pressed against his toned chest, small snores escaping into the air, while a small dribble of drool trickled down the corner of her mouth.

           Bucky couldn’t help the smile lifting up his lips. It was moments like those, he believed in good things. 5 AM, the New York sky dark and without a trace of morning light probably until 8 AM, with his favourite person in the world pressed up against his side, soaking up his warmth, leeching it off without any shame after having been satisfied (or at least he hoped so) by his tongue, fingers and, well, other things as well.

           Y/N shifted a bit, trailing her palm up to his abs and settling in the middle of his chest to feel his strong heartbeat. Bucky laid his palm over hers. Even in her sleep, she didn’t hesitate to entwine their fingers and bring them under her chin, closer to her, as if she needed him next to her at all times.

           He felt bad, he truly did, as he squeezed Y/N’s side, making her frown. “You gotta wake up, dollface. We gotta get ready.”

           “Dunantdo,” she mumbled, and if Bucky hadn’t been there to take care of her drunken ass more times than he could count, he wouldn’t have been able to decipher her slurred words as “don’t want to.”

           “I know.” He chuckled. “And believe me, there’s nothing in this world I’d wanna do more than lay here with you… well maybe go down on you a few more times at some point as well, but the mission won’t happen on its own.”

           Bucky felt her chest rumble against his, as she laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t mind you going down on me, mission and all.” Her words were clearer, but still laced with sleep, and muffled by his skin while he felt her calves run against his as she stretched out.

           “I know you don’t. The missing hair chunks on my head prove that.”

           “Hey!” she slapped his chest but soothing it immediately blearily looking at him with a pout. “I didn’t pull that hard!”

           “I’m not complaining, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss against the top of her head. “In fact, if you ever stop doing that, I will make sure you regret it, but unfortunately we don’t have time for a rendezvous. Jet’s gonna be ready in an hour.”

           Finally, after having accepted the fact she won’t get any more sleep, Y/N lifted herself to rest on her elbow right next to Bucky’s ribs and opened her Y/E/C sleep-filled eyes to look into his cerulean ones. “We can still squeeze in a quickie if we hop into the shower together.”

           “We can,” Bucky hummed, metal fingers lifting up to cup her cheek and place a strand of unruly hair behind her ear. “But you know a quickie for us is never quick.”

           Y/N let out a scoff and pushed away from their fluffy duvet, making her shiver as she placed her feet on the cold floor. “And whose fault is that? You’re the one with the super-soldier stamina.”

           “And you,” he pinched her ass making her squeal before giving him the middle finger and taking the red Henley she’d so happily taken off his body the night before only to put it on herself, “are the completely irresistible one. Can you blame me for wanting to spend eternity between those two legs in every way possible?”

           The smile she threw him over her shoulder was nothing short of wicked, but instead of joining him in the warm embrace of the bed, Y/N made her way to the bathroom. “Keep talking, Mr Charmer. Might just get you what you want.”

           Bucky was happy about having super speed as well with how quickly he hopped out of the bed and pressed her against the cold tile wall.

           ***

           Much to Steve’s annoyance, although they were barely fifteen minutes late, Bucky and Y/N were late, and when he saw the smug grins both of them sported, he genuinely thought his eyes would get stuck at the back of his head with the hard roll he gave to them.

           “As a new policy,” he started, flipping over the mission file, “I’m putting you two on a celibate streak.”

           Y/N raised an eyebrow, plopping down on one of the metal benches as the Quinjet lifted in the air. “Really, Steve? Do you truly want to deal with Bucky like that? Cause I know, I don’t.”

           “Well, your fondueing is disrupting the schedule.”

           “Oh relax,” Nat butted in, throwing Y/N a chocolate bar, given how no one had had time to eat proper breakfast. “It’s not like the HYDRA base was going to suddenly disappear.” 

           “It could’ve,” the blond super soldier countered.

           Nat rolled her eyes, not bothering to hide the smile she had on her face. “Which is why we have an inside man, who as of three minutes ago has confirmed – they’re still there. And by the looks of it, not even trying to run.”

           Bucky’s arm slung around Y/N’s shoulder and pulled her closer. “See? Everything’s still on track. Besides, from what I heard from Sam, he’s loving the whole under-cover thing so we were doing him a favour.”

           Tony had gotten out of the pilot’s seat and joined in on everyone discussing Y/N’s and Bucky’s sex life, so that was her cue to switch the comms in her ear from ‘communication’ setting to the ‘music’ setting, leaning against Bucky’s side and closing her eyes, cashing in on those lost sleep minutes she’d spent in the shower with her lover. 

           When they had about forty minutes left in the air, Bucky once more woke Y/N up as she’d fallen asleep while Steve and Tony went over the last briefing. 

“Bucky and I will take the South-side entrance,” Steve said, pointing at the holographic map Tony had pulled up. “Y/N, Nat and Wanda you take the East, and go as easy as you can, Red.” Steve nudged his chin towards Wanda who nodded. “Just because you can bend reality doesn’t mean you can bend your health. That’s where the main intel storage unit. Get as much as you can and get out. Tony will take the air and wait until Sam joins before blowing everything up. Clint, Bruce and Thor have all checked in, and are already in their positions on the ground as blitz attack. Once F.R.I.D.A.Y has confirmed everyone’s location away from the blast zone Tony will detonate the bombs Sam has set up inside. Got it?”

Affirmative nods came from everyone on board, as they went to do final checks on their gear and equipment.

“Be careful out there, alright?” Bucky mumbled against Y/N’s neck as she double and triple checked her ammunition count, strapping a sword to her back as well, just in case. Her obsession with Medieval fantasy shows giving her a reason to make Tony pay for her lessons. 

           “We’re gonna be fine,” Y/N gently patted Bucky’s cheek before giving him a peck on the cheek as he wrapped two strong hands around her waist. “We always are.”

           But where typically she was right (most of the time), it was in that instance where she couldn’t be further from the truth if she’d tried. 

           Despite having Sam on the inside and him having gone through great lengths to make the infiltration as easy as possible, getting inside the building had been suspiciously easy, and that had set off everyone’s alarm bells, but knowing how important gathering the information was, they pressed on, keeping the thought that it could be a trap at the back of their minds at all times. 

           Thor, Bruce and Clint had started their ground attack two minutes before the rest had joined, with Vision guiding and disabling every system possible from back at the tower, so Tony and F.R.I.D.A.Y could put all of their focus on retaliating against the helacarriers coming their way. 

           “Cap, we’re in,” Natasha announced, ducking through the door, as Wanda covered her six, and Y/N lead the way in front, bullet shells flying out from her rifle. 

           Their comms crackled with echoes of gunfire outside as Tony lead them through the place right until they got to the main room where the whole system mainframe resided in.

           “Five-minute countdown commenced,” Y/N said it out loud to inform the rest of their team, as she stood behind Wanda, who’d created a red shield of magic, keeping the assault away and them inside the room.

           Five minutes until they had to get out of the building because in eight minutes time Tony and Vision, having infiltrated HYDRA’s system would blow everything to bits. If that failed, Wanda was there to provide a safety dome for the three of them, but it was just as a failsafe. Even though she now had full control of her powers, understood them better than ever, taking in a blast that will level a whole ass building was still a lot and there was no guarantee bricks and beams wouldn’t just settle right over them to then fall on top the women, she was still recuperating from a rival witch attack and it had taken out a bit more energy from her than usual.

           “How’s it looking over on your end, Vis?” Wanda asked through the comms, connecting back to the rest of the team in the tower.

           “The files are coming in, but too slowly,” his smooth voice invaded everyone’s earpieces. “And unfortunately F.R.I.D.A.Y’s mainframe won’t allow for a faster download, as she needs to scan everything for viruses.”

           “Should’ve used a flash-drive,” Y/N mumbled under her breath as she watched the HYDRA agents line outside the room, creating a two-level firing squad basically. 

           “Last time we did that, the files corrupted the drive and then erased themselves,” Tony butted in, then groaned as something hard hit him. “And no one needs to hear you complain about losing the six seasons of Brooklyn Nine-Nine again.”

           Y/N just rolled her eyes and steadied her rifle against her shoulder once Nat gave the go-sign. Then something beeped through everyone’s comms. The three-minute countdown before the whole building went down.

           “We’re barely at seventy-six percent,” Nat’s tone was calm, but the frustration didn’t go unnoticed by others.

           “Plan B then.” Wanda changed her stance a bit, but not by much as to not arouse any suspicion from the agents. If they could be taken out by the blast instead of her it’d be less energy used on her part.

           “Are you sure?” Sam finally butted in, having gotten in contact with Bucky who’d given him a comm linked just with their interface. “We can try and delay the blast,” Sam said right as Bucky commanded him to do so.

           “No,” Wanda stated. There were already at the two-minute mark. “Get out. We’ll take cover once the files are ours.”

           “Y/N,” she heard her lover start, but she just shook her head, even though he couldn’t see it. 

           “Wanda’s right. Just be here to pull us out from the rubble. I have no want to climb through the wreckage.”

           A deep, long, exasperated sigh echoed in her ears, and it made her smile. “You know, sometimes I really hate you.”

           “Love you too, hot stuff.”

           A chorus of gags followed shortly after their little display of affection, and even though they were nowhere near one another they rolled their eyes almost at the exact same time, as Vision told Wanda to stay safe.

           “You owe me a foot massage, Vis.”

           “Gross.” Y/N chuckled.

           Wanda just threw her a smirk. “Imagine how we all feel about you and Bucky.”

           “Okay, we’re down to sixty seconds!” Tony said, making Y/N nervously glance back at Nat. 

           The assassin just shook her head. “Eighty-seven percent.”

           She gritted her teeth. If the building went out before they got the files they’d be stuck with just what they had. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, please speed up a bit, the place is about to get blown to bits.”

           “Rerouting the files to a different server,” the A.I. was immediately on it. “Will have to do the scan later.”

           “Thirty seconds, guys!” Steve shouted as whoever was still near the base scrambled to get out.

           Nat’s head whipped back to the computer screen. “Almost there.”

           But the whole thing seemed to have made the HYDRA agents realise something was amiss, yet it was too late for them. As Sam counted off the last five seconds, Natasha rushed to the other two women, grabbing them by their waists and crouching down while Wanda created a red dome of magic, explosions shaking the whole house.

           For a second the rumbling felt more like someone shaking you awake from a deep sleep until the walls of the room exploded, raining fire, brick and metal down on them. 

           That would’ve been fine if not for the fact that the floor underneath them decided to disappear as well, an array of curses coming from their mouths as Wanda immediately rounded out the shield while the rest of their teammates kept nagging them to respond.

           “Y/N, I swear to everything you hold dear, I will kill you myself if you die,” Bucky pretty much screamed, while she groaned as the sudden shift in balance had made her hit herself in the ribs with the rifle.

           She gritted her teeth, as Wanda used more of her powers to stabilise them. “We’re fine,” she responded. “No need to bring in the cavalry yet.”

           A deep sigh from what seemed like everyone echoed in her earpiece, and when Wanda was sure there’d be no second shockwaves from the blast or no debris that could fall right on top of them where she’d need to take her focus away, she flew the three women out of the ruined building and onto the grassy knoll where the team stood waiting. 

           Bucky was instantly next to Y/N, pulling her into his body and her lips against his once Wanda released her from the energy bubble. 

           “God, you’re disgusting,” Sam mumbled, and it was followed by a small yelp when someone hit him in the side.

           Y/N threw him a mischievous grin when she pulled away. “Don’t be a Bitter Betty. The offer to set you up still stands.”

           Sam cackled, as everyone had now regrouped and together were marching away to where the jet sat disguised between the trees. “Hard pass. You’re a worse matchmaker than Steve.”

           “Hey! Amelia was an amazing girl.”

           “She is except for the fact that she’s not interested in men.”

           Steve’s cheeks reddened up a bit, as Tony gave him a sympathetic pat. “ ‘S not my business to ask what people’s sexuality is. And blame yourself. You’re the one who’s called Sam.”

           “Oh, don’t you even –“ but his words were cut off midway as gunfire rained down on them from the sky.

           Instantly Wanda threw up a shield once more, Bucky going to cover Y/N with his body, but HYDRA opening fire from the top had left their sides unprotected, and a well-aimed shot from a bazooka ripped everyone apart. 

           The blast was minimised thanks to Wanda and her quickly directing a part of her magic to contain it, but the missile still threw them away.

           Y/N’s head was ringing, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of the loud noise of the blast, because of her having hit her head against a tree trunk, or because of all the screams from her teammates, yet she had zero time to recuperate as an agent rushed towards her, knives ready for a kill.

           The first one embedded itself inside the tree, and barely not inside her head, as she moved to the side in the last minute, but a small sting still crept along the side of her head where he’d managed to split the skin.

           She was up and rolling away, grabbing one of her own knives from the side of her leg, finally unsheathing her sword. There was no time to put more clips in her guns.

           The first agent was quick work for Y/N, I mean he only three more knives left, and he’d been one of the unlucky ones to stand next to the building when it went off, so the shrapnel had ripped a piece of his Kevlar open giving her the perfect place to put her sword in, but the next ten were not as easy.

           She was worn out, tired from having experienced two explosions and some of the agents were new backup, which meant they had more strength and energy, but she wasn’t going to let them get the best of her. 

           At the back of her mind, Y/N heard everyone chiming in as to where they were, how many people were after them if they needed backup, but mostly Y/N heard Bucky’s calls that he was coming to get her, even though she hadn’t requested help, she was too busy dodging bullets and knives to even respond. 

           She was human, she needed help, she wanted help, but then something odd occurred to her – most, from what she’d heard through the comms, were fighting maybe four to five people at a time, with the exception of Wanda, Tony, Thor and Hulk who had tanks and cars going after them, while Y/N had a group of twenty to twenty-five people to manage.

           It was an ambush, it dawned on her.

           She wanted to scream at herself ‘No shit, the whole thing is an ambush’, but it was an ambush of Y/N specifically, which was odd given how she was pretty much one of the few who had no direct ties to HYDRA, but that one moment of confusion was enough for someone to land a slice to the side where her own suit had a hole in it. 

           “Oh, we don’t want you,” a voice went through her comms that she didn’t recognise. It was muffled as if someone was whispering through someone else’s mic. “But we’ll hurt you more than ever.”

           An unsettling quiet settled around before she clearly recognised Bucky breathing out a ‘no’ and then a panicked ‘Y/N!’ rip through his throat. Her head whipped to see one of the most frightening sights of her life that will forever be ingrained in her mind.

           Bucky was laying on the ground, completely paralysed without the ability to even flex a muscle, blue eyes turned towards her in terror and helplessness as he watched while nine more agents stormed towards her.

           She was capable, of course. He’d even experienced how capable the girl was on his own skin, and it had left his super-soldier skin bruised and battered for a few days. But right now, she was tired, she had zero ammo left, all of her knives were embedded in the heads or chests of other assailants and somewhere along the way her sword had snapped in half, leaving her with a jagged piece of steel, which was also protruding out from someone’s chest. Y/N had nothing, but her punches and kicks left. And even she knew there was no way she’d last long enough to get back to the jet in one piece.

           So, gathering whatever strength remained in her body, Y/N retaliated on last time. She heard people shouting that they were coming for her, and for a moment she truly believed so when a red ball of magic hit a group of seven agents knocking them down, but when Y/N’s eyes flitted to where it’d come from, she saw the agents subdue Wanda, as they'd somehow managed to put an electroshock collar around her neck. She fell to her knees gasping in pain.

           All of it, Y/N realised, every single thing that had happened had been a distraction. They’d split them apart, and the Avengers had most likely helped HYDRA accomplish their goal when the bomb went off. 

           For a moment she wondered why’d they’d want to take her, why not take their ‘weapons’ back, but just as quickly came the realisation of their words.

           Someone grabbed her by the ankle, yanking her down. 

           Y/N saw stars behind her eyelids, and her teeth clanked together. She was lucky her tongue hadn’t been between them. 

           Bucky screamed as if someone was ripping his heart from his chest.

           A gun hit her on the head.

           And then everything went black.

***

                      Bucky was going insane. He’d trade having his brain being put through the meatgrinder for seventy years once again if that meant Y/N was back with him, but the empty space in his bed, the unused shampoo and conditioner bottles, the dirty cup in the sink told him otherwise. She was gone, and he couldn’t do anything about it. 

           For two weeks he was basically a zombie, barely eating and functioning, spending most of his time by the interrogation room’s computer, following up on dead-end leads and any breadcrumb he could find, yet every single time he thought he’d gotten something as if life was mocking him, it turned into dust, just like his hope slowly was. 

           There was pretty much no one else but him, Sam and Wanda left in the tower, as the rest had split off into teams to go and search every left-over HYDRA base in the world. The only reason he wasn’t out there was because Steve had benched him.

“You’re compromised,” he’d said. Bucky couldn’t say he wasn’t.

Sam had stayed behind because during his last raid he’d gotten hit by some gas, rendering him pretty much useless for half a week, and no one felt comfortable enough to ask him to put his life on the line before a full recovery.

And Wanda… well, Wanda wasn’t taking the whole thing too great either, but she was still functioning, so she was just waiting for the jet to come in and fly her out to Serbia with Vision for a potential lead on Y/N.

Defeated for the night, he grabbed the coffee cup that once had been filled and trudged his way to the kitchen area. God, fucking hell, how much did it hurt to even breathe. 

           Just as he was about to pour himself another cup of the burning black liquid, all of his senses went haywire, and he spun around to look at the hallway of the living room. He instantly recognised the shadow standing in the middle of it, how the shape curved and sloped in such a familiar way. How could he not, when that shadow belonged to the woman, he intended to spend the rest of his life with, when his hands had memorised each and every way she was formed.

           “Dollface?” his voice cracked at the end, but when she entered the light, instead of warmth filling his heart at the relief of her being back, ice-cold fear rushed through him at the sight of the black muzzle across her nose and mouth, not to even mention the HYDRA symbol in the middle of the chest of her tactical suit. 

           The first shot rang out right after he blinked, giving him barely enough time to dodge it, but Y/N was already on the move rushing towards him and kicking her leg out so that her knee would connect with Bucky’s chin. 

           A sickening crunch echoed through the room, as his head met the marble floor, bright lights flashing behind his eyes. He could even feel his teeth vibrate from the impact. It was this second which he used to somewhat regain a sense of place, that Y/N used to straddle him down, hand going behind her back to pull out a gun, but Bucky knew her. He knew her moves and how she left her left side open.

           When his forehead connected to Y/N’s nose, he almost vomited at the feeling of bone-crunching against his skin, but it gave him enough time to deliver a blow to her side, disarming her before grabbing her bicep and pulling her arm behind her back, his own metal appendage wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her flush against him. 

           “Come on, sweetheart!” he was pleading, but his grip unyielding to her struggles. “Fight this. I know you can.”

           But to his horror, HYDRA had dug their nails into her mind deeper than he ever thought was possible, as she smashed the back of her head against his nose once more, red blood spilling everywhere.

           He staggered back, palm cradling his face, but he still had one free to block the fist that was coming in his direction. This caught her off guard for a millisecond, but not long enough for Bucky to do anything, as she smashed her foot against his knee, bringing him down, yet he’d expected it, using the position to his advantage and grabbing Y/N behind the legs, yanking her towards him, and making her back hit hard against the floor, dizzying and knocking the air out of the woman.

           It took him three seconds to slide over to the gun she’d discarded and to stand up, and it took three seconds for her to flip herself up and aim the gun that’d still been strapped to her thigh.

           Both of them were shaking, but both for different reasons. Bucky was shaking because he was making the love of his life look down the barrel of a gun, while she was shaking because the only thought on her mind was about if she didn’t finish the mission, the consequences would be more horrible than anything HYDRA had done to her before.

           “I don’t want to hurt you! Please snap out of it!” he hollered but didn’t lower his weapon. It went against all of his instincts to be in that position, even when the two sparred, Bucky, to Y/N’s annoyance who was hoping for a real fight, pulled his punches. It was unnatural for him to even consider harming her.

           She cocked her gun, didn’t even hesitate. 

           “Sorry, can’t do that. You’re my mission.”

           Bucky took in one last breath.

           It hitched in his throat.

           He blinked away the tears pooling at his bottom lashes.

He’d never pull the trigger. 

           She steadied her aim.

           Bucky closed his eyes.

           But the bullet never came. At least not for him.

The yelp of pain made him open his eyes just to see Y/N’s body jerk to the side and drop to her knee, hand clutching at her shoulder, with Sam behind her, his own gun aimed at her with a little stream of smoke coming out of the barrel. 

Yet the second her shock passed Y/N swiftly turned to Sam, gun in her usable palm when her body seized up, and she fell to the ground unconscious. 

           Bucky was panting, as he looked to see Redwing, two blue lights on each side dying out, as it deactivated the tasers. It took him a second to realize what had happened, but then he was by Y/N’s side, pulling her body up to cradle against his own.

           “What the hell, Sam?!” Bucky yelled, hovering his left hand over Y/N’s mouth. When the metal fogged over, his whole frame literally shuddered in relief, as he went on to the next job – stopping the bleeding before her breathing stopped.

           “She was gonna put a bullet between your eyes!”

           “You didn’t have to shoot her!”

           “Oh, I’m sorry,” Sam mocked, dropping to his knees and shredding apart a kitchen towel to press against the wound. “Would you have rather had your brains splattered against the floor?”

           “You had Redwing taser her! That was enough!”

           “If I hadn’t shot her, Redwing wouldn’t have been able to taser her.”

           He hated the fact wounding Y/N had been a necessary step in subduing her. No, Bucky told himself, not her. Not his Y/N, but whoever HYDRA had placed in her mind.

           As gently as possible, he scooped up her body and with Sam in tow made his way to the med bay.

           F.R.I.D.A.Y had alerted the medical staff of the situation, so they were ready when Bucky came in. Instantly two nurses took his girl from his arms and laid her down on a gurney, Helen Cho stepping up with surgical gloves.

           “A through and through in the shoulder,” she remarked more for the medical records than anyone else. “She’ll have a few painful weeks of recovery, but nothing fatal.”

           Bucky nodded in acknowledgement, but still, he didn’t let anyone touch Y/N without him being beside her. As Helen patched up her shoulder and strapped her down on the cell bed, he was still there beside her, both hands clutching onto her palm, not moving an inch away.

           A little while after Helen had left, he felt a presence hovering behind him, and Sam stepped into the room, leaning against the wall, brown eyes looking over Y/N.

           “How is she?”

           Bucky sighed, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. They were cracked and on the verge of bleeding despite the regenerative cream, Dr Cho had applied. “Asleep,” he mumbled. “So that’s better, I guess. Gives her time to heal.”

           He heard Sam shuffle around a bit, and then he entered Bucky’s peripheral as he sat down on a chair next to the bed.“It took them thirty years to break you, yet it took them two weeks to break her…” Sam said biting on his lip, and the statement made anger course through Bucky’s veins.

           “Are you seriously calling her fucking weak?” He snapped looking at his fellow Avenger. “You have no idea what kind of torture they pu-“

           “I’m not calling her weak,” Sam interrupted. “Y/N is one of the strongest people out there. What I’m saying is – back then it took them years to break a person… now it took them barely fourteen days… what else have they ‘improved’ on?”

           The thought of Y/N having her mind ripped apart and then put back together as if she was some ragdoll made bile rise in Bucky’s throat, and it didn’t settle when he thought of how far that horrid machine had come since he’d been in one. 

           But as much as Bucky wanted revenge, as much as he wanted to destroy HYDRA, to make sure what happened to Y/N never happens again to anyone else, let alone if what Sam implied was true, he couldn’t leave her, not when she would need a familiar face the most. 

           He gulped, closing his eyes and tightening his grip on her hand to steady himself. Just the thought of her in all that pain made him go to the edge of breaking apart. “She’s gonna be alright, isn’t she?” If there was one thing Bucky appreciated from Sam it was his honesty.

           “In the long run most likely. You’d be the proof of that…” Sam sighed. “But first, we gotta make sure she doesn’t shut people out.”

           But that was most definitely easier said than done, given how the second Y/N woke up, which was about a day later after being knocked-out cold when she realised what had happened, it was not like a wall had magically appeared between her and anyone from the team, but a fucking fortress surrounded by an impenetrable mountainous barrier, and she was the only citizen in that mind castle. And Bucky was the first one behind the door.

           It broke his heart to see Y/N pretty much shut down. She refused to eat, barely drank the water provided, and couldn’t sleep one bit, yet what hurt most was she absolutely rejected even the thought of going back to their shared room, and instead stayed in her barren cell, white walls, with a thin blanket and a paper-like pillow. It got so bad they had to put her on an IV drip so she wouldn’t waste away. But it didn’t matter to her. She was like a ragdoll.

           It was about five days later when she said her first words. Y/N had her head in her hands, matted Y/H/C strands spilling between her fingers, as her nails dug deeper into her skull. That’s the position she’d been sitting in for the past five hours, not even bothering to lift her eyes as a paper plate with a meal, a single plastic spoon next to it and a paper cup of water was slid through the opening at the bottom of her cell door. She wasn’t hungry anyway. In fact, what she really wanted was to disappear from the surface of the earth, for the ground to open and be swallowed by molten lava or have a sharknado crash in and get eaten by a great white.

           “How’re you feeling?” Sam asked arms crossed as he leaned against the entrance to the door. He’d been asking that since the first time she opened her eyes, but never received a response, so when the scoff she let out was almost inaudible, but he still picked up on it, he straightened out. “Just peachy,” Y/N mumbled. “Absolutely fantastic. Ten out of ten would recommend.”

           “Y/N…”

           He really didn’t have anything to say. I mean what could you possibly say… but he had to at least try, given how miserable Bucky was. He’d heard him sob so loud through two closed doors and a running shower, that he had to do something.

           Sam swallowed hard before entering the room and cautiously, keeping as much space as possible between the two, sat down next to Y/N. He wasn’t afraid of her. He could never be. But he knew she needed to let him closer on her own terms. “You can’t keep going like this. You can’t keep everything in. If you don’t wanna talk to the shrink, it’s fine, but at least talk to someone else…”

           “I am talking to you.”

           “Yes, but you know who I mean.”

“How am I supposed to even look at him?” Her head shot up, and tears threatened to spill down her face. “How am I supposed to talk to him? To touch him, knowing I almost killed him.”

“It wasn’t you.”

“But it was!” The words were a hiss. “It was me. I understood everything I was doing, I knew who he was, I knew what we were to one another, yet…” she choked in the middle of the sentence, not wanting to say the truth. “I wasn’t going to hesitate. I was going to kill him. If you hadn’t gotten involved, one more second and Bucky would’ve been dead. Because of me.”

“HYDRA messed with your brain,” Sam stated. “I know that everyone knows that and Bucky most of all. Why do you think he couldn’t pull the trigger?”

“Because he’s an idiot.”

“No, because he’s been in the exact same situation.”

She bit her lip. All her brain was doing was screaming that Sam was right, to listen to him, he knew what he was talking about, but the guilt, the absolutely corrosive horror at herself for what she was going to do wouldn’t let common sense come through. “I just.” Y/N choked and then cleared her throat. “Just tell him I don’t want to see him. I – I can’t see him.”

Sam did know heartbreak. He’d felt it when his first girlfriend had broken up with him, he’d felt it in the army when his friends lost limbs and lives, and now he felt it looking at two of the people he’d grown closest to struggle to find one another and themselves.

He cleared his throat standing up and wiping hind palms down his thighs. “Wanda is also – “

But Y/N didn’t let him finish the sentence. “No.” She shook her head. “No one. Please.” She tucked her face against her knees. “I just wanna be alone.”

And so he left her alone. In fact, everyone did so. 

For a whole month, the usually lively tower was a glass structure of sombre and pain. Everyone was hurting. Wanda had retreated to her room, sitcoms on the rerun, Vision always by her side as she tried to manage the sadness of one of her dearest friends going through such a tough time and the guilt of not being able to help Y/N, to save her from that pain. Nat and Clint along with Tony had locked themselves in one of the lower levels of the tower analysing the data she’d gathered. They needed to occupy themselves with something, otherwise, they’d be overcome by their own thoughts and they were too dark to manage at that moment. Bruce and Thor had relegated themselves to the lab doing experiment after experiment, trying to find out how HYDRA had managed to do such damage to Y/N. 

Steve, however… Steve was doing quite bad. He felt probably the most amount of guilt than the rest of his teammates. He’d taken up the role of the leader, he was supposed to make sure everyone stayed safe. Yes, they were the most skilled people in the world, but they trusted him to make the best calls. And him not having taken into account a blitz attack from HYDRA after their blitz attack had broken two of his friends because Bucky was doing just as bad as Y/N, if not even worse.

He wouldn’t sleep, he couldn’t; Steve heard his cries each night until, at twelve of one AM, they’d cease, and he’d make his way to the cells. Steve had told Y/N a week after she’d been brought back that there was no reason for her to stay in there. She’d just sat on the bed, arms around her knees and staring at the wall. She didn’t go back to her room. 

But each night Bucky would sit by the glass doors and look at the frame of the love of his life, curled underneath a white duvet, a single pillow underneath her head (Y/N loved pillows, she couldn’t sleep without at least four of them) body in a foetal position. She looked so broken. She was. And because of that, so was he.

It was about three AM at night, when his routine was shaken up by none other than Y/N. Typically she’d sleep through the night not even stirring, slipping into the cot at nine PM and then waking up at six AM when Helen came in to switch her IV. She was eating now, but still too little for it to be enough. 

However, that night she was stirred awake by the feeling of someone watching her, not the camera that was always on but by human eyes.

That was the first time she’d seen Bucky since having woken up and regaining control of her body.

Her breath hitched when their eyes met, and his whole body straightened out. Y/N remained under the covers, while Bucky sat by the doors still. His palm pressed against the glass.

“Hi, doll.”

Two words, but that was enough for the dam to break. Tears spilt down her face, and without a second to spare Bucky had rushed inside and laid down next to her, strong arms weaving around her shaking body, as his own pain merged with hers.

All Y/N could manage to say was ‘I’m so sorry,' and it became a mantra she repeated in Bucky’s chest, hoping that somehow the words would find their way and settle beneath his skin so he could understand with his whole being how much she meant them. 

           “Please.” He was close to sobbing by that point, hand moving to cup her cheek. “Please let me help.”

“I can’t, Bucky! I can’t!” Y/N was close to complete hysterics by this point. “Every time I even think about you, I remember the emptiness, the absolute numbness that was in me, when I pointed a gun at your face, and I meant to kill you! I was going to pull the trigger, if not for Sam… So,” she gulped looking down at the ground, at their feet. “Tell me how the hell am I supposed to let you anywhere near me when I’m terrified of myself.”

           The grip he had on her face, was tight, strong and sure. “Because it wasn’t you. I know what it’s like to have your brain scrambled around and rearranged with false truths and present them as real… but the thing is – they’re not. And you taught me that. You were the one who made me realise it, dollface. Now let me do the same for you.”

           “I can’t even look at myself in the mirror because every time I do, I see that – that monster staring back at me.”

           “Reflections are deceiving,” Bucky whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. “Mirrors can’t and will never show the truth. It’s a twisted, flipped and made-up version of us, and we can’t allow ourselves to believe it. It’s not us.”

           And despite the pain, despite the guilt and anxiousness, Y/N chuckled, letting out a small sound of happiness for the first time in a while. “When did you get so wise, Gandalf?”

           She could feel the relief that flooded Bucky’s body slowly seep into her own. “Well, re-reading ‘The Hobbit’ helped… but more so you. You taught me that. You made me realise the man that haunts my nightmares might have my face, but it’s not me. He’s not me and I’m not him.”

           “Will you…” Her voice shook as she said the words as if there was a possibility, he could say no. “Will you help me?”

           “You never, ever have to ask for help. I’m always here for you. Whatever you need, I’m always here. I’m so sorry, so sorry you had to go through that.”

           And for the first time in six weeks did Bucky get to hug Y/N. Feeling her body melt into his almost made him have a breakdown of his own, as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and grabbed onto him like her life depended on the tightness of her grip.

           Six weeks, almost two months without Y/N in every imaginable way had almost broken Bucky to a point of no return. Had they gone longer periods of time without seeing one another? Sure, but this was different. When the person you love is right there, but more unreachable than when they’re thousands of miles away, that’s a different kind of pain. 

           She didn’t release her grip form him, as Bucky shifted and sat up, her legs moving to lace around his waist on instinct. With one hand underneath her thighs the other going to take off the IV bag from the stand, he stood up and moved through the tower, finally retreating to his room, where he took off a photo frame from the wall and hung up the medical supply while gently laying Y/N down between his sheets.

           She’d been in that position many times before in different states of undress, in different emotional states as well, but not once had she been alone there. And neither would she be alone now. 

           It was the first night Bucky slept without waking up, and when he did Y/N’s head was resting on his chest. He held her a bit tighter then.

***

           The road to recovery was slow. 

           It started with her spending her days and nights in Bucky’s room, no longer isolating herself from him. It turned to late-night talks where they just chatted about miscellaneous things, and if she felt comfortable enough, then about every heavy thing pressing on her heart. Then she ventured off to her own room, and once evening slipped inside the room of who was her neighbour. She slept next to Wanda that night.

           The next night, she and Wanda sneaked inside Nat’s bedroom, and just hung out a bit, painting their nails. When Y/N went to sleep next to Bucky, she felt as light as the light-yellow colour adorning her fingers.

           On the morning of the eleventh day of her recovery, she woke up earlier and made everyone breakfast, putting some extra chocolate chips in Sam’s pancakes. He deserved it for all the trouble he’d gone through. The smile on his lips and the kiss on her head from him meant more than any thank you he could say. 

           But it was about a month down the line, after evenings where she’d joined in on the movie nights and had discussed the gathered intelligence from other missions as well as the tactics agents should employ when Y/N took her biggest step yet.

           Bucky was laying on his bed ‘The Two Towers’ between his fingers, the metal appendage flipping the pages as gently as if they were made from butterfly wings, when Y/N came out of the bathroom, hair wet and dripping onto her nightshirt. Well, it was actually one of Bucky’s shirts, but at this point, every piece of clothing he owned belonged to her as well. Besides, in his humble opinion, she wore them better than he ever could. 

           “Buck?”

           “Yeah?” he hummed, flipping to another page.

           “Buck I – “ she took in a breath. “I want to have sex.”

           “What? Ow!” The book had slipped from his hands and the edge hit his eyebrow, making Y/N hiss, and instantly come over to try and soothe the hurt part.

           “I mean – “ Bucky stuttered much like his heart. “I’d love to. Gosh, dollface, you know I’d do anything you ever wanted me. Tell me to spend forever between your legs, and I will, but… Please don’t feel like we have to. You’re still healing, and –“

           “I want to,” Y/N was quick to quench his doubt, running a gentle finger over his brow. “I do. I – I need to feel you. I need to feel… I need to feel whole, and I haven’t in so long.”

           His hand cupped her cheek. “You are whole. You don’t need me to complete you. You don’t need anyone to complete you.”

           “I –“ She huffed, struggling to form the thought running through her brain into words. “I – I know that. At least I think so. But… but there is this part inside me, I can’t seem to heal myself, this crack that no matter how hard I try to mend just won’t do. And that’s because that part can only be filled by love. And yours is the strongest one I have in my life.”

           A tear slipped down his cheek. “Oh, doll…”

           Her legs slowly shifted so they were straddling him as Bucky leaned up in a sitting position, palms dropping to her hips and sliding underneath her PJs to touch the soft skin of her back.

           His nose skimmed against hers, and Y/N sighed at the feeling. She’d slept like that – nose to nose curled up next to Bucky – for close to a month and a half now, but the anticipation of the kiss turned her into a bundle of nerves. 

           “One word,” he breathed against her skin, pressing a kiss to her collarbone before looking deeply into her eyes. “One word and we stop.”

           And even though she wanted to say there was no doubt in her mind about doing it, she nodded. He needed the reassurance just as much as she did that if something happened, he’d be there for her.

           When Bucky’s lips met hers, it was just like the first kiss they’d shared. A bit tentative, unsure, yet filled with so much restrained passion and pure love it was overwhelming, and Y/N’s eyes immediately filled with tears.

           “Darling, let’s just not do this,” Bucky said noticing the clear pearls dripping down her cheeks, but she shook her head.

           “I just missed you so much. I missed letting you love me.”

           “Well, it’s a good thing people don’t need permission to love. I never stopped. I can’t imagine ever not loving you.”

           His mouth was on hers once again. Bucky let Y/N lead the whole time. He didn’t deny himself from exploring her body, from feeling every crook, dip, and crevice of her form, but she was always in control.

           When her shirt dropped to the floor, she was the one who started lifting it up.

           When she laid down to pull Bucky on top, she was the one who flipped them over and pulled him on top.

           Her hands skimmed the band of his boxers, and Bucky unconsciously ground against Y/N’s clothed core at the feeling, both letting out moans of relief at the friction.

           “Can you take ‘em off?” she breathed, as Bucky left beautiful marks on her neck and chest so they could bloom through the night and could be greeted by them in the morning. 

           “You sure?”

           She nodded. “Please.”

           They did it together. Y/N linked her fingers behind the fabric and pulled it down his legs while he shimmied out from the boxers and kicked it to the floor. 

           “Can I take yours off?”

           As sure as she was about everything that was going on, there was still some hesitancy in her body, and he immediately sensed it, pulling a little bit away. “Y/N…”

           When her hands went to wrap around his wrists where they rested against her hips, horror washed over Bucky like a cold shower. “Did they…?”

           “No!” Y/N was immediate to answer. “No, they didn’t… but… they said after they were done with me after they turned me into their puppet… after they’d make me hurt you, you’d never want to touch me. That, in your last moments, you’d only have hate in your heart for me, and I’d have to live with that for the rest of my life.”

           He gently put a finger underneath her chin and lifted her head. “Even when I was staring down that barrel, all I could think about was how much I love you. How I’d give my life for you even if you were the one taking it. I could never hate you.”

           A violent sob ripped through her chest. “I don’t deserve you.”

           “You deserve the world, and I’ll try to give as much of it to you as I can.”

           She couldn’t take much more of his confessions because Y/N’s chest was already as full as it could be of love, so instead, she pulled Bucky back down for a passion-filled kiss, while shimmying out from her own underwear.

           “Condom?”

           “No,” Y/N shook her head. “Not this time. Need to feel you as you are.”

           “You sure?”

           She nodded. “Helen put me back on the pill about a month ago.”

           Bucky shuddered, nodding. “Alright. Okay. But I need to make sure I don’t hurt you first.”

           Y/N was about to say he could never hurt her, when two of his fingers slipped along her folds, cutting her words off in favour of the groan of pleasure.

           “Gotta take care of my girl the right way.”

           A moan seeped into Bucky’s skin when he pushed a cold metal digit into her tight entrance. His arm had the added feature to feel things if he wanted or switch it off when he didn’t want to, which was a nice thing, especially during missions (he’d forgotten to do so one time and when a bullet bounced off, it wasn’t like a bee bumping against glass, hot pain had rippled through his whole arm, so it was a good idea on Shuri’s part), but this time it was on, and the absolutely exquisite pressure and warmth that squeezed around his digits was enough to make him grind against the mattress to alleviate his own growing pressure.

           “Bucky, please,” Y/N practically mewled, eyes screwed shut, nails digging into his skin, making him groan in pleasure. He’d forgotten how delicious the sounds were and how close to the edge just the feeling of her nails marking half-moons into his back could bring him. 

           “Fuck,” he swore leaning up to kiss her once more, while he increased the speed of which his fingers were going in and out of her, while his thumb rubbed circles around her clit, and when he hotly breathed against her neck to ‘soak him all down to his elbows’ Y/N’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and she arched up from the bed as an orgasm shattered her world.

           Gently he coaxed her through the orgasm while muttering praises against her mouth.

           “You’re so beautiful,” Bucky sighed leaning to rest on his elbows. “So fucking gorgeous.”

           Y/N smiled, stroking his cheek. “You’re beautiful too, Bucky. More than you’ll ever know or will let yourself believe me.”

           The crooked smirk which he threw her reminded the one from Steve’s tales of him and his skirt-chasing days. “Guess you’ll have to convince me.”

           “With pleasure.”

           Her hand snaked down to where he’d been running the tip of his cock between her folds, before gently pressing him down so he could easily slide inside. When he was sheeted a moan of satisfaction came from both of them.

           It was like homecoming. Like curling up in a warm bed on a cold winter’s night. It was just right.

           “God, I could stay like this forever.” Bucky tucked a strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear.

           “We have forever and then some.”

           A look she could not figure out crossed his face. It was like absolute joy mixed with fear and terror. “You promise?”

           Y/N kissed him, trying to pour all of her love into the single act. “With everything I have in me.”

           He took that as the cue that he could move and experimentally rolled his hips towards hers. Bit by bit he picked up the pace, breaths turning into pants broken up by moans, sweat beading along his skin, a small burn appearing in his knees, but even that discomfort couldn’t overshadow the heavenly pleasure rippling through his veins.

           She’d always been the epitome of beauty and love, that’s how completely Bucky had fallen for her, and he could only hope he was the same for her. 

           “Bucky,” she choked out. “So close.”

           “Yeah?” His vision was starting to go white at the edges.

           “Mhm – ohh!” The confirmation turned into a squeal when he hit just that right spot, he concentrated all his thrusts to match it, and soon enough both of them were falling over the edge, clinging onto the other as if they were the last lifeline that existed for them.

           “Hey,” Bucky cooed, opening his eyes and seeing how furrowed Y/N’s brow was, how hard she was fighting to resurface. “Come back to me. Come back, doll.”

           Slowly, Y/N’s breathing evened out, her trembling became small shudders from the aftershock of the pleasure, and her lids fluttered, gaze meeting his.

           She’d come back.

           She’d always come back to her home.

           To Bucky.

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A/N: My Bucky boiiiii! I’m back! hope y’all like this rollercoaster :)

P.S. if you see yourself on my tag list and you’re crossed out means the tag didn’t work. if you still wanna be on the tag list please message me your new url and what was your old one so I can change it (if it’s not the change of the url then I genuinely dunno what could be the problem)

P.S.S. my tags are always open. 

P.S.S.S. please don’t repost my works on other platforms without specific written permission and don’t plagiarise them 

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[hoodoo12]

Exsanguinate

somebody (it was @mimiscappinisideblog) drew a lil’ doodle of vampire Dewey Finn and somebody (it was me) wrote some more vampire Dewey Finn. NSFW. He’s a vampire, so there is blood.

@turtlepated @thewolfisapartofmysoul @monsterlovinghours @beetlebitchywitch

Enjoy! `

You scowled. Dewey insisted. 

“It’s too dangerous, baby.” (I’m too dangerous, were his unspoken words.) 

It was his own fault. He’d gone too long without feeding, pushing against his instincts, damming up the innate drive inside him as he taught his students, went out for gigs at dive bars, and wrote music into the far hours of the night. He’d been so busy he hadn’t contacted a sympathetic friend at the blood bank, which was now closed for the evening. And now he was on the cusp of turning feral.

“Just let me help,” you countered.

“And how’re you gonna do that?” he growled back. His voice was low and gravelly, like he’d spent too many nights smoking cigarettes and drinking whiskey, neither of which he did. For a split second, his eyes flashed a deep red. “You can have some of mine, you’ve done it before--”

Dewey reacted with another low noise, a mix of anger and dismay, that made your ears hurt. Fists clenched to white-knuckle tightness at his sides, he gathered himself and spoke slowly, as if enunciation was going to make it easier for you to understand. “You need to leave. I’ll figure it out, I’ve always figured it out--” “Dewey--” “I’m scared, okay?!”

Startled, you shut your mouth with a snap. 

“I’m scared I’m gonna lose control, I’m scared I’ll really hurt you baby--” (I’m scared I’ll kill you) “--you need to leave--” You collected yourself and straightened. “I’m not leaving.” His wail of anxiety hurt your ears too, but he gave up and didn’t make you leave. You figured that was a win.

⁂

He instructed you on how to tie him. You’d never suspected Dewey Finn had a knowledge of knots that would make a sailor jealous. When he told you to make the cords tight, to really make them secure, you fretted that they would hurt him. The second you tried to make them a little bit looser, however, he raged at you, telling you in no uncertain terms that they needed to be so tight they indented his flesh--

There was still a little humanity left in him; he realized you only did it out of concern and assured you that he would heal, it wasn’t something that should prevent you from being safe. 

As safe as you could be with a hunger-mad vampire, he joked weakly. 

Eventually you had him strapped to his bed according to his specifications: dead center and spread eagle, each limb anchored to the bedposts with multiple cords, each tight enough that he couldn’t move his arms or legs. If this was a bondage thing you’d have made sure he remembered a safe word. Although he cracked a joke, you didn’t. 

This was the only way Dewey agreed to let you feed him. With him immobilized, you had the control.

Naked, and with all the towels you could find under him, you carefully straddled him. Sitting on his abdomen, seeing him stare up at you with unbridled hunger was more than borderline sexual. No wonder vampires were romantized. 

With him writhing as best he could under you, mewling pitifully--he’d lost words the same time his irises stayed red, in full vampiric state--you put your hands on his shoulders and leaned into him chest to chest, tilting your head to expose your neck.

Dewey made a noise halfway between a gleeful laugh and a moan of desire, and surged onto you.

⁂

He’d taken blood from you before. Little nips, little sips, only after he’d fed; just something minor. What was the fun of dating a vampire if you didn’t have hickies to prove it?

This This This was different.

A full bite, his teeth tearing deeply into your flesh, nothing polite, nothing silly. It felt as though a chunk of tissue had been torn away, but Dewey hadn’t spit anything out and wasn’t chewing. He’d latched on, with lamprey determination, and in the initial shock of pain you realized he’d been right to make you tie him tight enough that if he’d been human, he’d lose sensation in his limbs. 

The sounds he made were vulgar and strangely erotic. Sucking, moaning, explosive breath from his nostrils, all sounds of need and pleasure. 

You became aware that, after your first cry of pain you were moaning and panting too. You wrapped an arm around his head not to push him away and extract yourself, but to keep him close. 

The sharp edges of Dewey’s thirst slaked, he chuckled at you holding him to you. 

It’d always been pleasurable, him nipping you and drawing blood, but it was nothing like this. There must be something about vampire’s saliva that was a balm and an aphrodisiac, something for their own survival so their victims--or willing partners--wouldn’t continue to fight through the feeding. 

Although he’d drunk your blood, you felt powerful sitting atop him. A deep arousal ran through you, and as his drinking slowed, you were able to sit up without much resistance from him. Dewey looked up at you with the same red eyes, only now they matched the blood that had smeared over his chin and cheeks. 

You wiped his face with your fingers and offered them to him. He sucked at the digits eagerly, and a thrill went through you that you could feel his teeth and tongue. He could take your fingers off if he wanted to, you were sure, but he cleaned them as if you were offering him some sweet treat. 

“More, baby,” he croaked in a wet whisper. 

“More?” you confirmed as you reached behind yourself.

You’d never asked, but it wasn’t a surprise he had an erection. You grasped his cock and he hissed, a familiar sound of pleasure when you first touched him so intimately. Holding him steady, you raised your hips and positioned him where you wanted him to be, then settled back down onto him with a hiss of your own. His cock opened you up with a steady friction, and you both groaned at the sensation. 

With him fully sheathed inside you, you leaned back down.  

Rocking on him as his mouth was on your neck, his tongue lapping at you, you cried out at the circuit of pleasure that radiated through your body. He filled you and took from you, and you now you were the one begging for more. You’d never known bliss like this, this control, this vulnerability coupled so closely together. 

After an orgasm that made you shake long after it was gone and a tingling in your extremities that you’d never felt before, Dewey made you get off him. He’d had a large enough meal to no longer be driven by his hunger, and managed to stop himself from feeding long enough to do you serious harm. Your fingers were cold and stiff, like you’d been outside in winter with no gloves, as you picked at the knots you’d tied him with to loosen them. After several failed attempts, Dewey ordered you to get the scissors you insisted on leaving on the bedside table. 

It took some time to cut through the cords, but once one arm was free Dewey quickly freed his other and his legs, then scooped you up and took you to the bathroom. He was smeared in blood. You were smeared in blood and semen. While he ran the water in the shower so it would be warm when you got in, he cleaned you with his tongue. That was erotic in a way you hadn’t expected and once again, you wrapped your arm around his head as he continued. When all traces of blood were gone and you were left with the slightly tacky feeling of drying spit on your skin, he carefully helped you into the shower and stepped in with you, so he could support you and carefully wash your skin. You were grateful for the help; your knees were weak and you felt a bit dizzy, like you were in the beginning stages of being pleasantly drunk.

Bathed, toweled dry, and escorted back to bed, Dewey stripped the towels away assisted you onto the mattress. There were no sheets but you couldn’t care. He tucked you in beside him and told you to go to sleep, and that he’d buy you a fancy scarf to wear to cover what he’d done. “I’m not really a fancy scarf person,” you managed to tell him as your eyelids grew heavier. He sounded more like himself now. “Turtlenecks? A black velvet ribbon? We wouldn’t want your head to fall off.” “That would be bad,” you agreed drowsily. “Yes it would. Go to sleep, baby.” You thought you answered him, but maybe you didn’t. You were asleep before you knew. 

fin!  

#writing #fanfiction #Dewey Finn #dewey finn x reader #au vampire dewey #School of Rock #story based on art

[harryhandstan]

the gbb extra that no one asked for. maybe one day i’ll move on from this concept, but until then..enjoy! somehow was able to stretch this to 1k and as always i’ve probably included too many personal details 🤦🏼‍♀️ thank y’all for loving this dream world enough to motivate me to keep writing for it!!

gotta get better / extra #1 / moodboard

//

“What’s this one from?”

“Umm..cut it on one of those old bathtub drains when I was younger. You know the ones with the screw right in the middle? Thought I was gonna bleed out in my aunt and uncle’s bathroom. Scared me so bad.”

He hums, running a finger along the faint pink scar on the bottom side of your left ankle before moving up your body, crossing over to find the one on your right knee. You offer the explanation before he has a chance to ask.

“Fell on the concrete sidewalk outside of my school, that one took a nice little chunk of flesh and a good while to heal.”

“How old were you?”

“8? Maybe younger.” 

This was one of your most treasured parts of being intimate with him. Though the act itself was blissful, this was divine. His hand trailing over your skin to study every dip and curve. Everything you considered an imperfection, he worshiped you for. No matter how many times he’d touched these scars or heard these stories, he still took the time to worship your body in the sweetest way. To learn these little details that anyone else had overlooked in the past.  

He pulls the sheet back, exposing more of your skin, and you’re not sure if it’s the way the cool air surrounds you or the way his eyes fall over you that makes you shiver. His head is eye level with your right hip now and you stretch your left hand down to cup his chin, craving the warmth of his skin against yours. 

His fingers work around your wrist to turn the front of your hand towards his face. He examines the small scar on your pointer finger and before you even have a chance to answer what you know he’ll ask, he’s speaking.

“Let me see if I can remember this one..hot glue gun accident. Your little brother was in 3rd grade and you volunteered to help his teacher with some projects to hang in the hall outside her classroom. Right?”

“Close. It was 4th grade. It was her first year teaching there and she was terrified. I think she thought I was gonna sue the school or something.”

“Right. Always forget the grade.”

“I’m surprised. With the amount of times you’ve heard the story.”

He turns your hand back over, pulls your palm towards his face and places a kiss right in the middle of it, “I love you. Never get tired of your stories.”

You wish his head was closer so you could kiss the top of it. To thank him for loving you enough to not only care about your past, but to listen to the stories with the same amount of rapt attention now as he had the first time he’d heard them.

As if he read your mind, he scoots up the bed, turning to lay on his stomach next to you. His fingers dance along the side of your stomach, over the two scars there he had dubbed your “snake bite”. They were small and round, faint enough he almost had to search for them among the expanse of your fair skin.

“I was there for these ones.” 

“Yeah, you were,” You thread fingers through his hair, nails ghosting lightly over his scalp, “Can you believe it’s been 2 years since the surgery already?”

“No, I really can’t.”

“I was so..whiny that week. Still can’t believe you put up with me.”

“You were a lil grumpy,” He sighs dramatically before looking up at you, “Not g’nna lie, it was really hard to deal with.”

Your hand stills in his hair before tugging firmly at the ends of his curls, “You are so mean to me, Harry. It’s not nice to tease.”

“Didn’t mean it. Truthfully, it was a great week. I hate that it started so stressful f’you but s’always nice to have a full week of cuddlin’ m’girl.”

“Now you’re just being too nice.”

“M’not. No such thing when it comes to you. Shall I continue to prove how genuine I am?”

There’s only one scar left and he knows it. Knew your body like the back of his hand by now. He also knows it’s the one you loathe the most. The one that despite the number of times he’d seen it, you always try to cover quickly, more to hide it from your own view than his. It’s another one from your surgery, an ugly reminder of the anxiety of the beginning of that week 2 years ago.

Your hand instinctively grips the part of the sheet currently hiding it from view. 

“Lovie, we don’t have to,” His hand rests on top of yours and you loosen your grip on the sheet to tangle your fingers with his, “We can skip that one tonight. S’your body. You choose how much of it you show me, always.”

“No, don’t wanna skip it. It’s the only time I don’t hate it so much. The only time I’m not ashamed of it is when you pay attention to it.”

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of it. S’part of you, of who you are. Y’should know by now how proud I am when I see it, want you to someday have the same appreciation for it. Until then, I’ll be here to give you all the attention you need.”

So with the sheet now gone, his hand trails upwards to run his finger along the top of it, causing another shiver to run down your spine. He lifts himself from his spot and drifts closer to you, a look of affection burning bright in his eyes. You watch as his head lowers, dips down to the bright pink blemish, small enough that when his mouth presses against it, his lips cover it easily. 

Your hand falls to the back of his head, holding him there for a moment. He kisses it again before dropping his head to rest on your shoulder.

“Thank you, H. I’ll never get used to you loving me so much.”

“Y’welcome, baby. I’ll never get tired of remindin’ you.” He turns to kiss your neck, an arm thrown across your chest to pull you closer.

“Alright,” You push his arm away from where it’s settled against your body, pushing yourself up to rest on your knees next to him, “Your turn.”

#harry x reader #my writing #it's almost 4am for me is anybody here #i like the ending but i don't like it #what's new #alright really this will probably be the last part of this #goodnight y'all

[cross-d-a]

I want to know ALL about Wu Xie embarrassing time traveler!Li Cu!!! ✨✨ I'm also v intrigued by Nie Huisang death death death

(Also, Cross you have so many wips; I read in awe. And to think I thought I had a lot of star wars fix-it ideas! I only have anything at all written down for two of them!)

(this refers to the WIP tag game I completed a few days ago!)

Wu Xie being EMBARRASSING & Li Cu Time Travel: 

I’ve got a series of interconnected oneshots planned where Li Cu just- accidentally hops back in time to every drama/book and helps out the Iron Triangle. and it’s more like LI CU embarrassing WU XIE haha

I thought it’d be HILARIOUS if Li Cu got to see how Wu Xie (UR MY DAD BOOGIE WOOGIE WOOGIE) is so YOUNG and STUPID and EMBARRASSING when he’s young!! Wu Xie making (ACTUALLY) innocent doe eyes at an emo Xiao Ge?? GROSS. Wu Xie accidentally (DELIBERATELY?) setting off multiple traps in a tomb?? Li Cu is 10000/10 going to RECORD THIS on his phone and bring it BACK to the future and make fun of Wu Xie FOREVER. Also!!! There are SO MANY SNAKES in Ultimate Note!! And?? Conveniently?? Li Cu has a lil’ snake buddy?? MAYBE HE COULD HELP??? 

I basically want Li Cu being the Actual Competent One and the baby Iron Triangle floundering. Mostly Wu Xie. I want Wu Xie floundering. I also want Wu Xie SO EMBARRASSED when Li Cu hops back to his own time. 

li cu: DAD UR AN IDIOT 

wu xie: i DONT WANT TO RELIVE IT PLS AND THANK 

li cu: nO!! U ARE GOING TO SUFFER!! UR SO STUPID u set off FIVE TRAPS

wu xie: i hate you 

li cu: no u don’t u just told me u loved and appreciated me for saving ur life like ten minutes ago. there were tears in your eyes. actually they were streaming down ur face. u might have been hugging my leg and sobbing

wu xie: tHAT WAS SIXTEEN YEARS AGO FOR ME OK i am an OLD MAN

Nie Huaisang death death death:

I think it’s hilarious that you picked out one of the resurrective immortality fics considering we were JUST talking about the old guard hahaha. This one I actually have a good chunk written so far, so here is a long snippet near the beginning. Context is that Nie Huaisang’s mother is VERY pregnant and she’s riding through the mountains to visit her family before she gives birth. WARNINGS for gore (kinda??) and child death and just- DEATH in general:

There are beasts in the mountains. Ravenous, born of fury and blood, more ragged spirit than flesh. Their claws are jagged and broken and their maws drip with sizzling saliva. They have roamed the mountains for years and years, and have only grown more enraged, voracious.

The Nie Clan have always harnessed the butchery of their past. Binding rage and ruin to themselves, channeling it through their hearts and into their swords until they are one and the same. Until it feeds upon their flesh and their spirit, gnawing on their bones, carving out a little space for itself between brittle ribs. Until, one bloody piece at a time, it consumes them whole.

The Nie Clan’s power is also the source of their doom, and these beasts who roam and know only hate hate hate are Nie-furen’s doom, as well.

They descend upon the Nie in the dead of night, a roiling mass of snapping teeth and furious howls. There is blood, screaming, desperate flashes of Dao magic and heavy blades. But there are too many and it is not enough.

But the mighty Phoenix of the West has always been filled with unmatched fury and she is full of new life and about to burst. She will not let her child die here today. Not before he can breathe sweet fresh air and keen that first high cry. Not before his father can cradle him in his arms and his older brother can plant a kiss on his forehead.

That rage within her swells. It devours her spirit and bleeds out her eyes as she screams screams screams- a raging beacon of power and brutality and every ancestor’s grief.

She slaughters everything in her path.

When she comes to, she is soaked in blood and there is pain in her belly and an ache behind her eyes and in every breath- but she is alive. She lies amidst the ruins of her people and the lingering darkness of vanquished spirits and Shan Xifeng—

She goes into labour.

It is long and hard, lasting through the night into the bloody dawn and beyond. She manages to crawl to the edge of their encampment but no further. She twists into a curl of agony and cries into the clouded sky.

Her son is born on the cusp of evening, just as the sun slides behind dark, ragged peaks. He is born soft and warm and silent.

Shan Xifeng cradles him in quaking hands. Cups his cheek to her breast. His tiny head is blood-streaked like his mother. Blood-streaked like her friends and family around her.

It is an irony that on one of the most important days of her life, she is surrounded by her loved ones and yet they are all dead.

“Little one,” she murmurs, and tilts his limp head. “Little one, please.”

But he is silent as the dead around her and that grief swells again in her breast. It gnaws on her ribs and scrabbles at her throat and she is shaking shaking shaking.

“No,” she spits. “No! He has done nothing wrong! Nothing! Does he not deserve his first breath? His first cry? Does he not deserve the family that awaits him?!”

She screams into the sky and tastes blood between her teeth. “Take me instead! I beg of you! Please let him live! I would give my life! Every single one of them, so that he may live!”

Her sword quakes along with that dark raging thing within her and she clutches her dead son close.

Then—

The faint, elegant curve of a fan in the corner of her eye. The shift of cloth, the echo of a breath. The glimmering of ethereal gold and silver, like someone has spun the stars and sun above into delicate thread.

Summoned, like a beast to blood.

“All of them?”

Shan Xifeng knows better than to face an unknowable thing and so she bows as low as her broken body will allow. She stares into the bloodied dirt and breathes in dust and rasps, “Yes.”

“Hm.” A flicker of a stretching smile, coy, with a hint of sharp teeth. She does not see the fathomless dark behind those stark white teeth, a gaping void of ravenous benevolence. It is hidden behind the flare of the fan. “Do you understand what you ask for?”

“I do,” she says without hesitation.

The grin widens, lips scarlet and dark against bone-white skin. “Then I shall grant your wish.”

A shift of cloth, then a cool hand cups Nie-furen’s cheek, guiding her up. Her eyes flicker open and she sees what no mortal has ever seen, and then that fan whispers against her cheek and blood-red lips press against hers and the last thing she feels is her golden core trembling spasming dying as life is pulled from her breath- all the lives she has ever lived, the one she lives now, and every life she could have ever lived.

Shan Xifeng falls into the bloodied dirt beneath, still clutching her dead son to her breast. And then there is no one left living in that small clearing.

Pale, bony fingers trace a delicate line through the blood that lingers upon her cheek. It is still wet and useful. Stained fingers press against scarlet lips and the life held between stark white teeth is breathed anew into that blood.

Carefully, bone-thin fingers trace a deliberate character upon the newborn child’s left cheek. The blood shines, brilliant and devastating, before fading back into a gruesome name across pale skin. Slowly, the child begins to twitch, brows wrinkling in displeasure, before a high keening wail escapes tiny lips as the child take its first breath.

“Your mother does not know what she’s doomed you to.”

A day later, travelers upon the road hear a faint keening noise not far from their wagon. When they find the clearing, they gag and retch. When they find the weak, whining child clutched in his dead mother’s arms, they shake their heads and then stare at the crest emblazoned upon the woman’s clothes.

Two days after that, the child is delivered to Nie-zongzhu’s disbelieving arms.

“No,” he says, violent spirit quaking deep within him. “No. It- it is not true.”

The traveler ducks his head and clasps his hands in a bow. “I’m sorry, Zongzhu. We were not able to take the bodies with us. You’ll have to send someone to check, but…it was the crest of your house. And…” he hesitates, then nods to his companion who stumbles up and offers a sword.

Not just any sword. A dao.

Shan Xifeng’s dao.

Feng.

“No,” Nie-zongzhu cries, falling to his knees.

“I-I’m so sorry,” the traveler stutters. “I am so, so sorry, Nie-zongzhu.”

Nie-zongzhu sobs, clutching his newborn child to his chest. “Little one,” he weeps. “Oh, little one. At least life is kind enough to have spared you.”

“Yong,” the traveler blurts.

Nie-zongzhu stares uncomprehendingly, tears running hot down his cheeks.

“It- it was written upon his cheek in- in blood. I- I think that is what his mother named him. She must have done it with her dying breath. She must have wanted you to know. He did not enter this world nameless.”

“Yong,” Nie-zongzhu echoes, trembling. “It- it is a good name, for my brave little boy.” He cups his son’s cheek and sobs. “Brave like- like his mother,” he murmurs, voice thin and quaking. “She named you well.”

And perhaps it is bravery that made Shan Xifeng give up the chance to ever be reborn. Perhaps it is bravery that saved her son’s life.

But it was all a mother’s wretched love, and Shan Xifeng did not write the character for brave upon her son’s cheek.

No, it was not Yong for bravery, but Yong for eternal.

And it is not his mother who wrote it.

Perhaps it is bravery that saved her son, but is the curse of eternity really a kindness?

No, no Shan Xifeng did not truly understand what she asked for.

But Nie Yong soon would.

The next section starts with:

The second time Nie Yong dies, he doesn’t even realize it.

He is four years old.

and the third section starts with:

The third time Nie Yong dies, his Adie kills him.

He is nine years old.

It’s basically an Angst Fest with a happy ending bc...I just need a happy ending Always. I just REALLY love resurrective immortality and I love making my favourite characters Suffer :)

I hope these were fun and satisfying to read!! 

♪(ﾟ▽^*)ﾉ⌒☆

(also omg NO it’s a CURSE!!! I WISH I could just finish SOMETHING!! ANYTHING!! OMG!!! I am so envious you’ve managed to restrain yourself to a few!! Also!! I am SUPER excited to find out more about your fix-its!!! :D)

#tag game #my fic #cross talks #wip tag game #ask game

[b1ksh88p]

Guts and Roses

Plot: Jesse hired you to clean up crime scenes. This time you were stuck cleaning up boob implants and stomach bile after a gruesome murder. All was well, you never crossed paths with him and didn’t mind it. That is when he accidentally forgot something important lodged into the girls torso leading to a unexpected visit from the man himself. (This was supposed to be practice for suspense soooo if it’s ass I apologize)

Warnings: Gore/Cursing/Implied Necro (nothing happens lmao)

It started with good intentions. You were a forensic anthropologist/medical examiner for the Florida PD, truly the best of the best. To bad all that knowledge and expertise was wasted. The whole system was corrupt. From dirty cops to crook politicians there was no such thing as reform. The entire system was fucked. Sometimes you’d get bodies without organs despite them not being organ donors. So many people came through and cases piled up. You felt more like a mortician than a forensic anthropologist. It made you feel horrible for the victims but after a few years you just let it pass you.

To make some extra cash on the side you put your services up for hire on the deep web. At first you were sure you were gonna get caught by the FBI but it seemed like a lot of sickos in Florida needed someone to clean their mess. They’d do their business, call you in, you’d take pictures for some blackmail, then do your job. You carefully instructed that they leave the cash in a plastic bag. The price varied on a few things. The floors material, the square feet, severity of stains, chemical cleaning cost, etc. were all factored into the final price. She made a good 5 grand off one easy clean up. A pretty good gig although certainly nausea inducing for the faint of heart.

This Jesse guy was no different than the rest of them. A rich weirdo with mommy issues who had a knack for snuff films. Nothing new. Sometimes you thought about watching one of the films just to see what all the talk was about. You got what was left of some bodies but you don’t really get the full picture from a crime scene or a cold corpse. There was a morbid curiosity. Ever since you’ve taken jobs for him you’ve wanted to see it. See him in action. You wondered if he got off to it. If he had a ritual, what his motives were. Along with playing music you could think about the crazed Chromeskull to help past the time. What a lame name. Surely the guy wasn’t that scary with a stupid name like that.

After scrubbing the blood splatter with your own secret mix you let it sit for a bit and get to work on the floor. First you dispose of all the guts, chunks of flesh, and silicon implants into a acid mix. Then you move onto mopping up the blood and other bodily fluids released by the body. She was completely torn apart. Her rib cage exposed as if the Jesse guy was looking for something inside her. Admittedly you were kinda grossed out. You much rather worked for the Collector. At least he had a bit of interesting presentation. This Chromeskull guy was just a fucking monster. The girl must’ve done something to piss him off if he got this mad.

After staring you get out some plastic wrap and cover the bathroom in it. After that you start cutting her limbs one by one and placing them in your special acid mix. One score was the bitches jewelry. Sick looks like Chromefuck left a lil tip. If this shit was real you could totally pawn it after her case turned cold.

You were just about to decapitate her when you heard the doorknob jiggle. You always locked the doors behind you, it was a safety precaution. You didn’t want to have to clean up another body for free. At first you just ignored it. Maybe the person would go away when they figured out no one was here. Suddenly a fury of hard knocks rammed upon the thin door. You get up. Whoever was trying to get inside sure as hell weren’t the friendly type. You think to grab your gun but your dumbass left it on the counter outside. All you had was a bone saw, and by the sound of it you were gonna need a tank.

After a serious of loud thumps the rickety chain snapped sealing your fate. You huddle into the bathtub and slide the shower curtain to conceal you. Whoever he was he was strong enough to open the door but oddly stealthy enough to muffle his steps because after the chain snapped and the door flung open you didn’t hear shit. For a moment you thought you were in the clear, that whatever they wanted they got and left. You start to slowly stand up before a sound makes your knees buckle in place. The same pounding from before was right outside the door. You freeze. Your entire body wanted to flee but there was nowhere to go. The door flings open like it was a piece of paper. On the other side of the curtain you heard shallow breaths. Whoever it was was pissed. For a second there was silence. It felt like you had held your breath for what seemed like a eternity before you heard the grossest sounds ever. It was the sound of flesh being strained and bothered with. Meat and congealed bodily fluids churning around echoed off the walls. You wanted to gag. Was he...was he fucking it?

All of a sudden the sounds came to a abrupt stop. You watch in pure horror as he tears the shower curtain asunder. A gloved hand grabs at your crinkly clean up suit and you instinctively swipe at it with your bone saw. Lucky for him in your fear ridden haze you miss. “Gah! What the fuck do you want?!?” You shriek pointing the blade at the mask. Definitely believed the hype around this guy he was fucking terrifying. For a moment he just stared at you, possibly thinking if he should kill you for the stunt you just pulled. To your surprise he recoiled and calmly began to sign.

‘I thought you’d be finished. It’s been 3 hours’

Before you can stop yourself you scoff. “I don’t rush you when you’re making pulled pork.” When you noticed what you said you felt the color leave your body. Everyone always said your attitude would one day get the best of you. Now you were about to become the star of a snuff film lucky you. Instead of slamming your face into the tiles until it resembled strawberry purée his shoulders raised up and down...he was laughing.

‘Touché, well doll I’m looking for something. The stupid cunt swallowed it.’

Did you even want to know the gruesome details? Yes, but you didn’t need this sicko thinking you admired him. You were merely intrigued. Anyone would be even just a little. Or at least that’s what you told yourself. “Want me to...help?” You treaded carefully. You didn’t need him getting angry that a woman wanted to help. Some men saw it as pity and got all pissy and acted like they were Alpha males. He shrugs. It seemed like metal head didn’t mind a lady getting down and dirty. Good cuz it was your fucking job.

‘Knock yourself out Princess.’

You step out from the safety of the tub and dig into the mush of the torso. You can feel him looming over you. Cold eyes boring into your skin as you searched in silence. It hit you.

“What am I looking for exactly?” You ask turning to him.

‘A sim card, the stupid bitch swallowed it thinking I’d spare her or something.’

“Clearly her plan didn’t work out.” You let out a wry laugh. That wasn’t funny. Oh god why were you comfortable saying weird shit around this guy. You kept focus on finding the little black card. It was lodged in a piece of her small intestine that he had missed during his rampage. When you turn to announce your findings he’s crouched down in front of you. “I...I got your sim c-card...” you try and mask the fear in your voice but failed. Why was he so close? How’d he keep moving so silently? You tense up as he slowly signs to you.

‘I wanna see you without the mask.’

Your heart sunk but a stupid smile was on your face. Is that all? The sicko just wanted to see her face? But why? You’d only worked a few jobs for him. This was the first time you’d met face to face. Was he joking?

‘But not now. I’ll let you get back to work.’ He stood and dusted himself off. When he outstretched a gloved hand you thought he was just waiting for you to hand over his precious SIM card so you did just that. With like zero effort he hoisted you up to your feet. He hands you a card and takes his property before leaving you alone in the penthouse. You read the card and furrow your brow. On the back there was a message. When you read it aloud it made your skin crawl.

“I’m always watching you”

What the hell have you gotten yourself into???

#chromeskull #slasher #horror #slashers #jessecromeans #slasher x reader #slasher x s/o #potential series maybe idk #im not good at writing lmao

[trashy-slashy]

hiya, can I get some Deathslinger x reader nsfw where he catches her stealing alcohol from the saloon and decides to teach her a lesson? like some dubcon/noncon. thanks, i'm just really thirsting for the cowboy 👀

You know what they say, save a horse ride a cowboy 🥴

Caleb QuinnxFem!Reader

NSFW/DubCon Warning

The forest surrounding the campfire was ominous, fog rolling in from every direction. Traversing the terrain was exhausting, but the camp needed supplies. You hoped to stumble upon Autohaven, picking up parts for trials, but the entity’s realm refused to make your life easier.

After wandering for God knows how long, you were greeted by warm light, the heat and humidity choking after the bitter cold of the woods. You groaned at the sight of the Old Dawg Saloon. There wasn’t going to be anything useful here. Despite your preconceptions, you snuck around the perimeter, keeping watch for any sign of this realms resident.

Caleb watched you creeping around the outskirts of the buildings from the top of the saloon. His redeemer sat in pieces on the table, the cowboy using his free time to keep it in working order. Survivors fascinated him, the torment they live through day in, day out, only growing wiser to the killers strategies. Feeling particularly benevolent, he went back to his work. There was a few toolboxes laying around for you to loot, but nothing of actual value.

A toolbox and a few lenses, was that it? You had checked the whole area, save for the large centre building. “Of course that would be where all the good stuff is” you scoffed under your breath. The Deathslinger’s presence seemed to be missing however, surely he would’ve intervened by now otherwise. The floorboards creaked obnoxiously under your feet as you climbed the stairs. He had damned well not be here.

You kicked yourself. The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind. Your belly ached at the sight of rows and rows of bottles. Whiskeys, rums among other a multitude of other spirits. Seemed like a surefire way to get on everyone’s good side. Grinning like a teenager you crept behind the bar, lifting one of the bottle from the wall. Throwing a quick glance to check for company, you unscrewed the cap, letting the liquid fall onto your tongue. It burned your throat, settling in your belly like fire. Delicious.

Caleb heard you come inside. He didn’t however expect you to start helping yourself to his stash of booze. His teeth ground together, brows furrowing in anger. The cowboy slipped out of the side room, watching from the banister. Disrespectful little... Surprisingly lithe, Caleb vaulted over the wooden barrier, landing at the end of the bar. You screamed, taken by surprise, trying to scrabble over the counter to freedom.

“No ya don’t” The Deathslinger seethed, closing the distance between you with one stride, his elbow slamming into your back, pinning you to the wooden surface. “Get off me!” You thrashed against him pointlessly, the killers strength far surpassing anything a meek survivor had. “So you can steal from me again?” He spat, tutting at the bottles strewn over the floor. “Take your trinkets ‘n’ shit but this is mine” Caleb splayed a hand across your shoulders, drinking in the sight of you bent over, completely at his mercy.

You waited with baited breath, unable to move under the cowboys grip. He chuckled darkly, shifting his grip, fingers digging into your sides. Hot breath grazed your neck, his weight pressing against you. “How would you like it if I took somethin’ of yours without askin’?” He drawled, a shiver breaking down your spine. You tried to squirm away from him again, crying out pointlessly for help. Caleb ground into your ass, his cock half-hard, growling into your ear. You kicked out at your assailant, yelping when you were rewarded with a hard smack to your upper thigh.

“Fuck you.” He grinned, slipping his hands under your shirt, tugging your bra down. Caleb palmed at your breasts, ghosting his tongue over the shell of your ear. His thumbs swiped over your nipples, the buds perking under his attention. “You survivors have no respect.” The cowboy pinched and twisted a nipple, relishing the wails that broke from your throat. “Someone’s gotta teach you some manners” Your mouth tasted of iron from where you’d been biting your lip, trying and failing to ignore the jolts of arousal his touch gave you. Fuck if the man wasn’t good with his fingers.

You whimpered involuntarily when his fingers left your shirt, Caleb’s eyebrow raising in response. “Looks like I caught myself a lil’ whore” The southern drawl drained all your blood south, your negelected sex throbbing painfully. The cowboy tugged down your pants, squeezing at the bare globes of flesh. A digit traced the inside of your thigh, your heart hammering against your chest. “If you want me to touch you darlin’ you’re gonna have to apologise.” Caleb kept his touches teasing, milimetres from your soaked cunt. You shook your head defiantly, earning a second swift slap from the cowboys hand. Your knees quivered, tiny mewls leaving your lips. “I’d reconsider.”

“Please.” You whispered, hissing through your teeth as he spanked you again, your ass burning red. Caleb tutted, squeezing the sore flesh, tears pricking in your eyes. “That’s not what I asked for, is it?” “I’m sorry!” You whined, rocking your hips towards him. The Deathslinger hummed appreciatively, grinding his palm against your slit. “What are you sorry for?” “I’m sorry for, ah...” A digit slipped into you mid-sentence, relief and pleasure short-circuiting your brain. A swift slap brought you back to reality, the mixture of stinging skin and Caleb’s finger stroking your insides making it hard to think. “I’m sorry for stealing.” You moaned lewdly as he pushed in another finger, curling them at the knuckle, pressing against you deliciously.

“Good girl.” Caleb’s breathing was ragged as he watched you come undone beneath him. “But... I don’t think you mean it.” He smacked you again, your legs giving way underneath you. “You’re just a whore.” Smack. “You fuckin’ disgust me.” Smack. “I’m sorry, please, I am!” Tears streaked down your cheeks, your ass burning painfully. “Prove it.” Caleb sneered, pulling you off the counter, discarding you to the floor. “Kneel.”

The cowboy freed his cock, winding his fingers in your hair. Meeting his gaze, you licked your lips, pulling back the skin to drag your tongue over the head, salty precum lingering on your tongue. He wasn’t in the mood to be teased it seemed, his grip pulling you closer, insisting you to open your mouth. Caleb’s jaw clenched as he slid past your lips, letting you accommodate as much of him as possible. He grunted when you hollowed out your cheeks, bobbing eagerly along his shaft. It didn’t seem he had much in the way of self control, his hips jerking into your throat, leaving you gagging around his cock. “Good girl.” He praised, his grip tightening when you swiped your tongue over the underside of his member. Caleb growled, letting you continue your ministrations for a few moments before pulling out of your mouth, saliva smeared over your lips.

He tugged at your hair, scooping you up to sit you on the bar, not giving you a moment before sinking inside of you, smirking as you threw your head back, cries of pleasure leaving your lips. Your cunt throbbed around his cock, Caleb firmly gripping your thighs, keeping you in place whilst he pistoned into you. Your nails dug into the counter, gouging out small chunks of wood. The cowboy snarled possessively, eyes flicking between your face and watching his cock disappear inside of you. “Harder, please....” You begged quietly. Caleb didn’t think, hooking your legs over his shoulders, each thrust reminding you of the raw flesh of your ass. The new angle allowed him to hit the sweet spot inside of you, stars flashing in front of your eyes. Caleb was panting, his pace erratic as he got closer, releasing your ankle to rub your clit. You screamed as you came, tightening walls sending the cowboy over the edge, hot cum pumping inside of you.

Caleb gave you a devilish smirk, his cock softening inside of you. “I think you learnt ya lesson.” You nodded pathetically, completely spent. “I suppose you could take one or two bottles seeing as you asked so nicely.” He laughed at his own joke, leaning over to graze your ear with his teeth. “As long as you keep my cum inside that pretty little cunt of yours.”

#caleb quinn #dead by daylight #caleb quinn x reader #the deathslinger #dbd asks

[brideofcthulhu10]

Could you write about a girl getting harrassed by max or surfer nazis for a weeks by then and the boys taking notice help her out of a possible dangerous or taboo situation and let her join their lil coven? I know you could write something really awesome!

I goofed and forgot this was an answer to an ask haha! Okay so I'm gonna give fair warning, this is gonna get a bit graphic. I mean you wanted a traumatic taboo, and, well, wish granted!

Initiation's Over, Time to Join the Club

Poly!Lost Boys × Fem! S/O

+18 CONTENT WARNING: Sexual Themes, Sexual Assault, Potential Triggers, Violence, Gore, Offensive Language! READER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED!

It had only been a few days since you tried to break free of the Santa Carla gang known as the Surf Nazis. Doing so proved far more difficult than you could have imagined. You couldn’t even be on the boardwalk anymore. They were everywhere, as soon as you were spotted former friends would crowd around you. They weren’t stupid enough to do anything physical, but they’d harass you to the point of running back home. There was one reason that you kept coming back. 

The boys.

 You started talking to them earlier this summer. Purely by accident. You had gone on your own to get a quick food run at the Kung Pao Lotus, and somehow got your order mixed up with the smallest of the group, Marko. You managed to catch him as he was leaving the restaurant and somehow that was all you needed. They took to you so quickly. Polyamory was such a foreign concept, especially when it comes to romantic relationships. But as your feelings developed over these past few months, you found yourself falling victim to each of their charms. There was just something so other worldly about the bikers. It was an unspoken mystery that only drew you in further. WHenever they had to leave for the night you’d ask them if you could join, but they all seemed particularly against the suggestion. There was always an air of discomfort, like they had something they didn’t want you to see. Regardless, Marko, Dwayne, Paul and David had swept you off your feet into the dark Santa Carla nightlife, and soon you found yourself making the choice between them, or your old gang.

But when you tried to back out of their so called “rivals”- honestly only the SN’s thought of themselves that way, things got nasty. A few of them started showing up around your neighborhood. You could see them in busted down trucks or rumbling motorcycles just strolling through your neighborhood. Your mom’s car was trashed, absolutely covered in spray paint, your garage was vandalized, trash bins were dumped out all over your yard- you were starting to get scared. 

Even still you avoided bringing up the subject to the boys. You didn’t need them worrying about something like this. After all, you were a big kid, you could handle yourself. Whenever your ex-friends walked by on the boardwalk David would raise his brow when you ducked behind them, quickly covered by an excuse.

“Sorry I thought I saw a quarter on the ground,” you’d throw out, nervously standing up.

Even Paul was beginning to notice your uneasiness whenever Surf Nazi’s circled your path.

“Listen, kitten,” Paul assured, sitting on the steps beside you while you picked at your cotton candy. “If those assholes are giving you shit.. We can protect you, babes. You just say the word and I’ll rip their heads off.”

“Me too babes,” Marko would chime in, wrapping an arm over your shoulder. “All it takes is one word.”

The suggestion of mass slaughter just didn’t sit well with you and you shook your head. “No, guys don’t worry it’s just a bunch of petty pranks. They haven’t done anything that bad. I promise.”

You were so certain that in a few days they’d grow bored. After all, it had been a week and a half by now! Things couldn’t escalate more than they already were. While they weren’t your friends anymore, they still wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, right?

It was a late August afternoon, maybe an hour before sunset. Today was a record breaking heat wave, the hottest it had been today was almost one hundred and eleven degrees. It was your mom’s idea to send you to the beach instead of sulking at the house. Truthfully you were a little glad you did.

The ocean was just beautiful, cradling the slowly setting sun leaving streaks of pink and blue stained with the slowly encroaching touch of night. Stars speckled the darkest corners. Pulling out your polaroid you couldn’t resist snapping a few pictures for Marko. He loved it whenever you brought him any day time photos. They never came out before sunset, you just assumed maybe they were busy elsewhere until late afternoon. If you tried to invite them out during the day they’d each give you a disappointed response.

“Shhiiiiit, kitten,” Paul would sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I mean, we would if we could,” Marko would try to assured you, holding your hands in his. Dwayne would nod along.

“Daytime just isn’t our time.”

David would tilt your chin up with a calm smile. Somehow you just knew whatever it was, he’d tell you when you were ready. “I’m sure you understand, doll. I hope you aren’t too disappointed?”

“Oh! N-No, of course not. It’s just a trip to the museum, I doubt you guys would like it anyway.”

Oh well… Instead of fretting, you tried to savor your peaceful moments, 

This week had already been such a pain. It was a welcome change to just walk through the rolling shores, wading past clumps of bubbly sea foam. Closer to the caves you could spot surfacing tide pools where little sand crabs shuffled just beneath the surface. Greenish anemones shuddered at your tender touch and would retreat within themselves. If you were lucky you spotted a few whole mussel shells! You kept an old bag slung over your shoulder with a towel and a change of clothes, planning to change out of your (print/color) bikini and wrap skirt once the sun had fully gone down. Maybe then you could meet up with the boys for another night out. As you began to approach the rocky coast lines skirted across the abandoned hotel you could hear muffled snickers just barely audible above the ocean’s song.

At first you assumed them to just be maybe a group of tourists, probably drunk off their butts. When you tried to continue walking towards the hotel they grew closer. Footsteps kicked up into a pursuit. When they turned over the outstretched caves you easily recognized the greased up surfers sporting frosted tips, skunk striped hair and shredded up clothing. They continued to chase after you until you had managed to duck into a cave off the edge, but even still they followed. Now you were cornered.

“This isn’t funny anymore, Ricky,” you hissed, trying to cover yourself with your arms. “Look I left alright! I don’t wanna be a part of whatever it is you guys have going on!”

“What, can’t old friends just say hi?” You could see he brought Tank and Munk with him, both sporting grins that you knew meant nothing good. Every time they took a step forward that made you take two more back.

“Yeah right,” Munk tried to agree, shrugging. “Aren’t we friends anymore, Y/N?”

“Don’t you wanna play? We came all this way so we could hang out.” Tank circled next to Ricky. Your heart raced so loud it made your ears hurt. They were cornering you! With rapid head movements you tried to find any alternate pathway that could get you out, but all of them were too high up! Any access to the further cave systems had been smashed to pieces! Your best bet was trying to wedge yourself between the three thugs.

You had to wait. Holding out just until that golden opportunity revealed itself to you. Just as Tank moved slightly further than Munk you found a thin opening. With everything you had, you bottled forward trying to push past. Success! 

Two steps in and you felt yourself torn back by your hair. The sharp sting caused you to shriek, grasping at the base of your scalp in an attempt to provide yourself any semblance of relief. Day light was grown thin. At this point you did everything to fight out of their grasp. Kick, thrash, punch! At one point you swear you caught a good chunk of Ricky’s skin under your nails. He hissed, throwing you against the drenched cave walls. The cold, damp sand beneath your feet felt solid while you tried to pry yourself up. Not this time. Munk pinned you by your arms, snickering at your terror.

“No! Stop it! Get away from me,” You cried, tyring to kick at Ricky. His fingers quickly tore your skirt off, looking down at the wet bikini still clinging to your body.

“Nooo, stop it, get away,” he mocked in a shrill tone. He forced your face up to look at him, his thumb and pointer finger squeezing your chin tightly. “You fuckin’ asked for this, walkin’ around like miss high and mighty!”

“She's just too good for the Surf Nazi’s now, eh Ricky?” Tank chuckled at the suggestion, arms crossed.

“Nah, I don’t think she’s good enough for us, that’s why little miss Y/N left,” Munk added, licking your cheek. The wet appendage dragged across your jawline to your cheek. It was enough to raise the bile in your stomach as you wrenched your face away.

“Well,” Ricky added, just as the sun went down sapping up any lingering light and leaving you in utter darkness. Your sobs echoed in the cave. There was nothing in the darkness, a pair of calloused hands grasping at your legs. When you tried to kick a swift sting crashed into your mouth. The blunt force made your ears ring, a bitter copper taste staining your mouth. Worst of all, you could feel unwelcome fingers prodding at the flesh kept beneath your bikini bottoms. “I bet you she’s good enough for one thing, don’t you think, Y/N? What’s say we give that cute little pussy of yours some play time, hm?”

There was sheer and utter panic. You continued to scream until your throat was shredded. The uncontrollable urge to vomit tempted your stomach when he tried to tease you from over the fabric. You must’ve wiggled out of someone’s grasp because you managed to lift your leg into the air sending a solid kick his way. “You fuck bitch! I’m gonna- wha-? Ahhh! What the fu- AHHHHHHH!”

There was a massive gust of air just past you that swept across. Ricky’s blood curdling screams dissolved into a hideous cacophony of squelching splatters. Munk still had a grasp on your arms, rapidly trying to search for his accomplice. “Ricky? Ricky man, what the fuck happened?! Tank where is he?”

Again another burst of air, but this time an echoing cackle followed. Low, rumbling. It delighted in their panic, or rather, he did. Whatever hidden male lurked in the shadows made quick work of another. Tank’s screams echoed through the cave. Again more sickly sounds of torn flesh followed by an eerie silence. “Tank? Tank answer me, man! What the fuck is this, what's going on?!”

Your own eyes began adjusting to the darkness. You could see a form walking your way, another higher pitched snicker eager to drag you into the same jaws of presumably horrid fates that had taken Ricky and Tank. You tightly shut your eyes, anticipating your inevitable demise.

There was no such occurrence. Finally your arms were released by Munk and his terror swept through the caves. You clung tightly to yourself in the darkness, trembling at the enclosing footsteps you could hear just over his screams.

“Looks like we made it just in time, kitten,” a voice asked clearly. You froze in place. It couldn’t be. 

You still couldn’t make out much, but that heavy scent of aftershave coupled by an ancient musk, like the aged pages of a beloved book told you all you needed to know. Tears stung your eyes. It was almost impossible to breathe through it, blubbering into the arms of a familiar comfort that were already spread to grasp you.

“David! Oh god, David,” You sobbed, crashing into his torso trying to muddle the sickening stench Ricky had left on you.

“Shhh, it’s alright now,” he softly coaxed, the soothing sensation of him petting your hair putting you at ease. “It’s all over.”

You could hear the other boys approaching you, even still you couldn’t see them.

“I told you we’d protect you, kitty-cat,” a laid back tone assured you, placing a hidden hand on your shoulder. Paul.

“I think it’s becoming too dangerous for you out here.” The firm, tender voice of Dwayne spoke up. The sand beneath your body sunk to accommodate his weight. His calloused fingers brushed away loose hair you didn’t even realize was in your face. Another hopped down from… above?

But.. there were no overhead platforms, just cave ceilings caked in stalactites. What had even happened? The jingles of jewelry over leather were followed by a tender face  laying atop your shoulder nestled in the crook of your neck. Curls tickled your cheek, Marko’s lips sending chills over your flesh as he spoke beside your ear.

“If you want, Y/N, you could be with us all the time. If you were one of us, we’d never let things like this happen to you.”

One… One of them? 

“What-,” you tried to ask, still tightly held in David’s arms. You tried to look up, but there was only a thick blackness barely outlined by an ever darker form. “One of- of you? What… are you guys?”

Now you knew why that rolling chuckle earlier sounded so familiar. David’s chest rumbled against you as he couldn’t help but laugh. You could feel the worn leather of his gloves caress your face. His hand traced your features and cradled them tenderly in his palm.

“Would you like to find out?”

The suggestion raised your flesh, chills tricking down the base of your spine as if you were frozen in the grasp of a predator. The darkness, the way they avoided sunlight! The way… the way they came to your rescue. When you needed them most. 

“Y-...,” you halted your answer. This time you really pondered it all. But even still there was a certainty to your thoughts. Your body and soul knew what they wanted. All it took was one little word.

“Yes”

Now you could see him. Well, not all of him. Just a pair of bright, luminescent white eyes wrapped in hellish spirals of red. Then there was another set. And another. Four sets of eyes all ready for you. A sharp pain surged through your neck, but you didn’t dare scream. For each set of eyes there was a following sting. Neck, shoulder, wrist, arm… and then you saw them all perfectly within the dark. The unyielding pain had brought a perfect clarity, and an unexpected stillness within your ribs. You couldn’t help but giggle, wiping away the puddles of blood smeared across David’s face. His grin spread wide, fangs still dripping with freshly drawn rubies that had stained your body red. Now it was your turn to grin, a fresh pair of fangs bared for your new dearest mates to admire in this dank, dark cave.  

#lost boys 1987 #lost boys imagine #the lost boys #lost boys fanfiction #lost boys #fanfic #fanfiction writing #fanfiction #80s horror #80s movies #lost boys paul #lost boys dwayne #lost boys david #lost boys marko #lost boys drama #drama warning #vampire drama #gore warning #answered asks #answered #character asks #asks open #send me asks #answered ask #ask me stuff #thank you for the ask

[knightofthecourt]

Love Bites - Chapter 7

Belatrice Gray was a TA at Belgrave University, working hard to stay on top of her marking and trying not to flunk her own studies, when a night out with her bff Randall and his roommates, changed everything.

Hamish Duke x OC fiction with fluff, romance and angst. OC description has been left out to allow for reader personalisation!

Hamish was awoken by the watery light streaming in through his bedroom window. He turned his head away from the intrusion, desperately chasing the last remnants of sleep.

He’d been having the most unusually vivid dream. The taste of Bela’s lemon-tinted lips on his, the sound of her gasping his name as he grasped the soft curve of her hip, the taste of flesh, flashes of blood.

His eyes flew open. He sat up suddenly, heart racing and looked around the room. 

Next to his own unclothed form, there she lay, curled around his duvet, sleeping peacefully. His breathing slowed as his eyes traced her outline, searching for signs of injury.

There was no blood, no torn flesh, no sign of distress, but… he brushed aside a lock of hair, careful not to disturb her. On the patch of skin below the back of her neck, smooth and even, as if they’d been painted on, sat two faint red crescents. A bite mark.    

Hamish’ stomach plummeted. It hadn’t been a dream, he’d lost control and he - well, Tundra - had bitten Bela last night. As he scanned the discoloured marks that marred the previously unblemished area he began to feel more and more uneasy. He could still feel the pressure of his teeth sinking into her neck, the taste, but this bite looked like it had healed years ago. It didn’t make sense. 

Hamish rose from the bed, quickly and quietly and grabbed the closest outfit he could find. Bela wasn’t safe with him here, something was very wrong.

He needed to get to the Den, now. 

- - - - -

“So, you didn’t bite her?”

Hamish raked a hand through his hair as he stared at Randall. “No, I- Tundra did. It’s like I couldn’t keep him out, I had no control.” 

Lilith shook her head. “But it wasn’t there when you woke up? And Bela didn’t say anything?”

“What would she say,” Jack said, “Morning Hamish, I had a great time last night - by the way, did you turn into a werewolf and take a great big chunk out of my neck?”

“No,” Hamish said, “I told you, the bite had healed somehow and I left before she woke up.” 

“Ooh,” said Jack “Maybe she’s some sort of vampire with superhuman healing abilities”. 

Randall grinned, “Or a mutant, like Wolverine from X-Men.” He paused when he saw the look on Hamish’s face. “No, probably not a mutant. Definitely not a mutant... are you sure it happened? Maybe the mark is from something else - I fell asleep on a textbook after finals, had a line on my arm for three days.” 

Hamish’s head throbbed as he looked across the room at Jack, Randall and Lilith. He’d been glad to find all three of them in the Den when he burst through the door half an hour ago, strewn across the living room. Judging from the state of the place, they were recovering from a beer pong session.

After they’d finished making comments about his uncharacteristically haphazard appearance and lack of tie, he’d managed to explain what had happened with Bela - the bite, blacking out after and waking up this morning with her still in one piece.  

As he watched their conversation turn to the different ways they’d managed to injure themselves in their sleep, his mind drifted to the woman he’d left in his apartment. He wondered whether she’d found the note he’d left yet, a carefully crafted lie to explain his unexpected absence, propped against a glass of juice and packet of Advil on the bedside table. It took more willpower than he expected not to lean down and brush a kiss against her temple before he left, but he couldn’t risk waking her.

“Enough.” Hamish snapped, pulling the trio from their hungover musings. “This is serious. I’ve never seen anything like this, never even read about anything like it and… things have been different recently. I’ve been losing control. I’ve put Bela in danger - I’ve put all of you in danger.”

His three friends looked up at him, all traces of humour gone.  

“Ok,” Randall said. He threw off the blanket and walked over to the bookshelf in the corner of the room. “Let’s hit the books then.” 

- - - - -

“Wha-!” Hamish ducked as a leather bound volume went sailing past his head. 

“How could you?” Lilith was furious, her face a mask of rage, eyes flashing between silver and brown in a kaleidoscopic blur. 

Randall spun on his heels as Hamish regained his composure. “What the hell Lilith?”

“Without her consent Hamish? You mated with her without her consent?”

“Woah,” Jack chipped in from his perch on the stairs, “Even I know that’s wrong, dude.”

Randall spun back to Hamish, who looked baffled, and then held up his hands in an attempt to keep Lilith and Hamish apart. 

“Haim,” he said, keeping one eye on Lilith, who was now shifting from foot to foot, as if readying herself to launch at their leader. “What did you do?”

Hamish raised his hands in defence. “Nothing. I asked before we were intimate. I would never...” He trailed off when Lilith let out a small snarl. 

“I’m not talking about sex Hamish, you marked her - read the damn book.”

Hamish didn’t move. He looked stricken, the blood draining from his face. 

Randall retrieved the book from the floor and opened it to the page Lilith had marked with a scrap of paper. “Though often depicted otherwise in folklore, most werewolves will never find a mate. Those who do are rare.” He began, glancing up at Hamish who had placed his head in his hands. 

“Once a mate is identified the hide will compel the wearer to bond with their potential partner, before marking them as their own. This stage of the mating process is dangerous and, if the champion is not in control of the hide, often results in the death of their mate.”

Hamish swayed a little on his feet.

Randall continued. “Those who survive have little recollection of this process, though it is not known why. As well as providing a euphoric effect, the saliva produced by the wolf during mating causes the mark to heal quickly. The bond created through mating is irreversible and can only be severed by the death of the hide’s host, or the death of their mate. The benefits of mating include an incomparable sense of loyalty, enhanced resistance to magic and the ability to bear -”.

“Stop.” Hamish’s voice cracked. He lowered his hands from his ashen face.     

Lilith was ready to punch something, or someone. “Loyalty?” she snarled, “It’s brainwashing Hamish. How could you do this to her? She’s our friend - you didn’t even give her a choice.” 

Randall scoffed as he placed the book on the table next to the sofa. “Your friend, Lil? When was the last time you two hung out on your own.” 

“Stop.” Hamish’s voice was barely more than a whisper. 

“Well, apparently she’s going to be our new werewolf step mom or something so -”

“As if that makes you best friends. Wait a second - does that mean Hamish is our werewolf dad?” 

“More like grandad,” Jack piped up. 

“Urgh!” Lilith let out a wail of frustration and rounded on Randall, her eyes finally settling on silver discs. She growled again as her nails lengthened into claws. 

“STOP!” For a brief second Hamish’s eyes flashed and his face contorted as a change washed over him, then he took a deep breath and the anger seemed to drain out of him. His shoulders slumped as he pushed past Randall and Lilith and sat heavily on the sofa.  

Randall glanced at Lilith, eyes wide. 

“I didn’t know any of this,” Hamish said, looking up at them. “I never would have gone near her if I’d known. And now I can’t... I can’t take it back. She could have died because of me - because I care about her and -” He broke off, placing his head once again in his hands. 

Randall sat down next to Hamish and put a steadying palm on his back. “Bela is my friend,” he said, emphasising the word 'my' as he glared at Lilith. “You both are - I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. And she likes you, she really, really likes you, even without this mate stuff.”  

Lilith looked at Hamish, her eyes clouded. “I’m sorry Haim, we’ll do whatever we can to help.” 

“No.” Hamish stood suddenly, jerking away from Randall. “I need to stay away from Bela. I can’t undo what I’ve done but if I keep my distance maybe she’ll be safe. I can’t lose someone I love. Not again.” He strode out of the Den, slamming the door hard enough to rattle its hinges on his way out.

“Right,” Jack sighed from the stairwell, “good to know we have a solid plan.”

#the order #hamish duke #randall carpio #lillith bathory #hamish duke x reader #hamish duke x oc #the knights of st christopher #werewolf #love bites #the knights of saint christopher