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jasmines-library · 9 months ago

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As Good As Dead

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WHUMPTOBER DAY FOURTEEN :Prompt: Left for Dead

Summary: You are the daughter of the Joker and its safe to say that you have a very complicated relationship. So what happens when you get injured by one of the Batfamily and he leaves you to die.

Warnings: blood, near death experiences.

Word count: 1.1k

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER 2024

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Agony. Hot and bright and burning. That was the only thing you knew in that moment. The katana had pierced straight through your chest cavity, pinning you helplessly to the ground as you lay there in a pool of your own blood. You had screamed. That you were certain of. You had felt it rip your throat raw. You had cried out: but no one came. Not even your own father who was more hellbent on chasing his nemesis, Batman, through the streets of Gotham than he was with helping his own child.

You watched, clawing at your own chest as your father looked back at you. Your eyes met his. They were full of this dark and twisted insanity that no villain could rival. And sadistically, with not so much as even a glint of remorse on his face, The Joker turned on his heel and left, chasing the infamous black silhouette that you had come to loathe down the street.

You and your father had a complicated relationship. You loved him, of course. He was your father. He taught you everything you knew; trained you to be a strong fighter. But it seemed the entirety of your bonding seemed to be around Bruce Wayne and his pesky little birds. He was obsessed with being better than him. And for years you believed that he was right. That Bruce was the villain. But when your father went to Arkham things started to change. You started to realise that there was more to life than being better than everyone else. And so you began to grow apart. And so he left you when you needed him the most.

You weren’t sure how long you laid there for. But your body was beginning to grow numb. At first, the pain turned from hot to cold. Your body began to shiver against your sticky clothes. And then the cold began to take over your fingertips until you could no longer feel them. Slowly but surely you began to grow numb. To feel nothing but numb. As you stared up at the sky, the edges of your vision began to fade. You could no longer make out the edges of the skyscrapers and the neon signs, but could only see the clouds which passed in the sky above. Or atleast you thought they were clouds. There was a high possibility that it was your own vision that had clouded over and that was what you were seeing. You didn’t know anymore.

Your fingers twitched against the concrete. You had long since given up trying to pull out the offending sword instead leaving it to protrude gruesomely from between your ribs. Your fingers were covered in blood from your previous efforts though. It had cracked and dried sticky on your fingers.

The area around you was near silent. There was nothing around you besides the odd sound of a passing car in the distance. Strange for a city. But then there was the voice. One. No. Two voices. They were talking to each other. And from the volume of it whatever they were talking about was rather panicked. They seemed to be discussing something of importance. The voices began to get closer and closer and then the higher, more worried one stopped before speaking out.

“Holy shit— they’re alive-“ Damian exclaimed, slightly startled by the state you were in. He wasn’t sure why. He was the one who had driven the katana through your chest in the first place. He hadn’t meant to do so much damage. The guilt had been eating away at him since the minute he heard the scream leave his throat. Batman had one rule that Damian was actually keen to follow. No killing unless you absolutely have to. He could tell that you weren’t really invested in the fight. Your punches were lacking their usual sharpness and you only seemed to be on the defence. Damian had noticed that about you recently. You weren’t too keen on helping your father. And he wanted to know more. He had witnessed firsthand the gaze your father had shot you before he left. And he hadn’t practically begged Dick to come back here and look for you.

“Holy shit….” Dick breathed out taking in the scene around him.

A gentle tap on the side of your face and Damian was in front of you. His hands came up to your neck, feeling for a pulse. It was incredibly slow and weak but there none the less. “Their pulse is slow.”’

“I’ll call medical. See if you can get them to respond to you.” Dick said before stepping away for a moment to contact medical.

“Hey….can you hear me?” Damian asked you.

You blinked at him slowly and tried to move your lips but no words came out. Instead a trail of blood dribbled from your lips.

Damian panicked. “Okay. Okay. Don’t try to talk, save your strength. We- we’re going to get you help.” Damian could hardly take his eyes off you his katana. How it poked sickeningly from your chest, wedged between your ribs. He couldn’t understand why he was was even bothering to help you. You were the enemy. But you were also human too.

“Medics are on their way” Dick confirmed. “Did you get her to respond?”

Damian just simply shook his head, but Dick had figured as much. “We just gotta keep her awake until the medics arrive. They should be here soon.”

Damian bit his lip anxiously. “Alright….”

Before you knew it there were sirens. Loud and obnoxious they pierced their way through your ears. And then you were surrounded my medics and a world of pain before being carted off into the back of an ambulance.

When you awoke you were greeted by the sterile lights off the hospital as well as very worried looking Damian.

“You’re awake.” He said, moving closer to you the moment he saw your eyes open.

You blinked “and you saved my life…..”

“Well….after I stabbed you….” He mumbled sheepishly.

“Why did you help me…?” you asked hoarsely.

Damian's face twisted as he thought for a moment. “You didn’t deserve to die. I couldn’t just leave you there after your father–”

Ah shit. Your father. He had left you for dead. You certainly weren’t going back to him now…. “Right.”

He frowned, noting your upset. “Hey. Don’t worry about it. Just focus on healing right now. We’ll sort it out.”

“You don’t have to help me.”

“I know. But I want to.”

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<- DAY THIRTEEN ⛧DAY FIFTEEN ->

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TAGS:

@hearts4robs @kingshitonly @alicedawitchbish @hell-o-kittys @azure-drag0ness @harleycao @thewhispersofthewaves @batfamsstuff @xxrougefangxx @rosecentury @noisymutantherelol @killxz @rhiodes @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @canthavetoomuchchaos

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anonimusunnoaniswriting · 27 days ago

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Dark Content | MDNI 18+ | Do not read if you are sensitive to violent behaviour | Choking Na Baek Jin x Reader (this work is currently unedited)

The tattooed fingers that were wrapped around your throat, slowly pressing down, stole away the air of your lungs bit by bit. This was his way of letting you know you were his. Like a collar a master might put on a pet.

It was late in the night. The sounds of video games had long disappeared and the chatter of people conducting Union business had died down long ago; there was very little sound.

Most of the boys had gone home, or were asleep under the neon lighting of the bowling alley. You were there too.

Your homework was left on the table in front of you – half unfinished. Your hair escaped the confines of the rubber -band that had held it up at school. The day had taken its toll on it and it slumped down, unwilling to keep up appearances.

You were beginning to feel light headed. You reached up with your right hand to try and pry the strong fingers away from your throat, to no avail. You would never have had the strength to do it anyway. Your hand laid upon the other in defeat, as if falling to its knees in front of the king. Begging him to spare you.

You could feel each part of his hand. The little bumps of knuckle, the ridges between his fingers. The harder, slightly raised patches of skin where he’d gotten cut from fighting. The rings stood out…

His skin was warm.

The rings were cold.

You were losing breath.

You sat in his lap. A punishment for whining about – whatever you were whining about. The whining distracted him from his work. The whining made the other boys snicker. The whining made him angry.

“You did it on purpose.” The warnings earlier had come similarly. Low. Dark. Dangerous. “Now face the fucking consequences.” The reprimand came with the added physicality.

Your lips opened and closed. Like a fish out of water, both gasping for air. Your mind started to go blank. He pressed down harder.

The broken AC unit rattled out a half-hearted cool breeze that barely touched you. His elbow dug into your breast. You lifted your other hand. To join the protest. The tips of his fingers were rough. He always took care to cut his nails down as much as possible. The blunt ends melded gracefully against his skin. You couldn’t feel the lines of his tattoos. They had been there a while.

Your fingers pried at the marriage of his hands and your neck. Weakly. You opened your mouth again. This time in desperation for respite.

“Na- B-Bae-k Jin…”

Your head fell to the side, into his waiting arm. The blood rushed back to your head as he slowly eased off the pressure points on your throat; the sudden rush, dizzying you. But his arms were still around you. Holding you securely in place so you would not fall.

He maneuvered your head to face his. A kiss gently placed on your lips in lieu of a threat.

“Let’s not test my patience ever again, princess.”

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Reblogs and comments are always appreciated.

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harveywritings92 · 1 month ago

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[Vergil is playing Left 4 dead with Dante, Nero and R/n, he's wondering why no one is moving and sees Dante(Zoey), Nero(Louis) and R/n(Francis) are staring at a witch at a safe distance.]

Vergil, has pump-shotgun: What? just crown it. (starts walking towards the witch)

Nero, tries to explain that they're on Expert Realism: Uhh, Dad? you can't crown a witch with-

[R/n and Dante shush him]

Vergil, shoots witch:...

{The witch yelps and stumbles for a moment before glaring up at Vergil.]

Vergil/Bill: Sonofa bitch!

{Vergil tries to make Bill runaway before he's slashed and instantly killed.]

#devil may cry #devil may cry incorrect quotes #devil may cry 5 #vergil sparda #dante x reader #dante sparda #nero sparda #left 4 dead

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weskie · 10 months ago

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Reversal (Albert Wesker x gn!Reader)

18+ | 1192 words | handjob, soft wesker, begging (as much as wesker would), could be any era of wesker | Fic Directory

he deserves to be spoiled once in a while. wouldn't you agree?

He’s never quite sure how the two of you end up in these situations, but particularly himself. Wesker, being the extremely generous lover that he is, was far from used to being on the receiving end of things. But you have your ways. He could hardly call it trickery since you’d given him ample opportunity to refuse, but he just couldn’t.

What turned into simply sitting by your side atop the bed turned to a loss of control so blissful that his jaw trembles with every breath he takes in vain attempts to steady himself. You’d coaxed him so sweetly, pretending that you were shuffling behind him to simply rub his back. And you did for a time. Stripped away the shoulder holster and kneaded taut, stressed muscles for so long he’d almost been convinced his body turned to jell-o. When your soothing touches slipped around to unbutton his shirt, he knew he was in for it. The very second you tugged on his belt, he knew he was all too happy to let it happen.

He huffs an open mouthed breath, chest rising and falling, heartbeat like a drum in his own ears while he cranes his neck further to the side for your wandering lips. The buckle of his belt clinks with every mindless shift of his legs. You feel so nice… your hands are so warm and soft as you stroke him slow and steady.

He grips your leg with his left hand and the right reaches back to thread in your hair, anchoring himself to you like a docked ship in preparation for a storm. Wesker can’t help but arch back into you, body seeking more and more contact as he fights each gasp and whine that threatens to expose how easily you’ve wrapped him around your finger.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” You coo in his ear, breath tickling the shell of it and sending a shiver right down his spine. There’s an air of humor in your words like always. Amusement that you’d turned the tables and taken apart the man who usually unmakes you. Wesker’s eyes flutter open, half lidded and dazed. He dares to look between his splayed legs and your hand moves just in time to feel his balls tighten at the sight. You hum a small laugh when he does little more than swallow thickly and exhale. “Even if you won’t use your words, your body still tells me all kinds of things.” Your thumb circles his weeping tip with an agonizing slowness and your lips fall to the junction of his shoulder.

He nearly jumps out of his skin, choking off a sharp keen into panting breaths when a wandering hand pinches his nipple, rolling the hardened bud carefully. It’s then that he truly loses himself, completely leaning his weight back onto you and hissing through clenched teeth. “Y-You…” He tries, but his train of thought derails entirely when your fist twists down to the base, squeezing gently. Wesker’s legs shift haphazardly, one bending just enough for leverage to thrust into your grip.

Your touches halt suddenly but you don’t release him. “Yes, honey?”

Fuck, he thinks to himself. This again.

Not too long ago you’d learned that he wasn’t quite so unbreakable. That iron will and stoic demeanor ran incredibly deep, but for you? Oh, you have the key to his heart, which means you’re privy to sights and sounds that leave him red in the face and practically squirming.

You planned this, didn’t you?

Now you were going to get exactly what you wanted…

“Come on, Al. Tell me.” Each word drips with love the likes of which he could drown in. It drives him insane in ways he could never dream. You hold release over his head like bait but give freely that which makes you so special. “Tell me so I can take care of you.”

Wesker’s jaw quivers, teeth practically chattering. “You… I want you to…” He’s whispered filth in your ear so many times just to guarantee your pleasure, but to reverse the roles? To tell you how badly he wants you to… t-to… “Please,” he gasps, voice a tad higher than he’d prefer, “anything, I– ah!” Wesker gasps sharply, head falling back against your shoulder as you trail the tip of your index finger along the length of his cock.

“Anything?”

“M-More!” He mewls. It’s all so undignified and the embarrassment swirls deep in his gut, but it’s washed away by a fingerpad teasing a bead of precum. Heavy breaths turn almost to snarls. “God, just– please!”

You always did show him mercy when he used the magic word. The very second your strokes begin again, his eyes roll back and he succumbs.

“That’s it, Al,” you murmur between kisses and suckles to his exposed neck. He writhes and thrusts and pushes against you like his life depends on it, seeking more sensations, more pressure, more of you while he comes undone. “Shhh, just feel it…”

He’s unsure of just how loud his pathetic litany of whining had been, but he’d much rather not know at all. Fuck, if he felt like jell-o before… he’s practically a ragdoll now, limbs like lead demanding that he simply lie still and bask in a haze so powerful he can’t even open his eyes. He tries to give you a hm of acknowledgement, but it comes out as a breathy whine that leaves him wishing he had the energy to curse himself for such a weak display of self control.

“You did so well.” Your praise erupts his flesh with goosebumps. “You deserved this. You deserve to feel so good.”

Wesker tilts his head just enough to nuzzle your cheek, hissing a hot breath against it when he feels your fingertips dance through the mess he’d made on his abdomen. His eyelids are so heavy…

“Get some rest, sweetheart.”

He wants to. God knows there’s nothing else his body screams for more in the moment, but he also wants so badly to return the favor. You wiggle out from behind him carefully, slipping his shirt free and slowly helping him descend into the plushness of pillows and blankets before stripping away the remainder of his clothes. You disappear for but a moment, promising him you'll return before you do, and you bring a warm, wet cloth to wipe away the mess his bliss had caused.

“There we go,” you say. There’s not a single word necessary, but he knows you do it to reassure him that he’s clean. A soft thud signals that you’d tossed the cloth elsewhere and then you’re climbing in right beside him, tugging soft covers up onto the both of you and snuggling close to him. “You should sleep,” you tell him. “The world will still be here when you wake up, okay?”

“In some state of chaos, I’m sure…” Wesker mumbles, pulling you closer with a heavy arm. Lips press to his temple, then his cheek, then his lips which curl into a lazy grin. Within seconds, he’s out like a light.

He always sleeps so well after you take care of him.

#albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker x you #wesker x reader #wesker x you #wesker #resident evil #resident evil wesker #dead by daylight #dbd #i thought of stars wesker while writing this but i left it vague so insert whatever era is your fav >:)

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strawberry-eden · 10 months ago

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violence solves (most) problems — danny johnson x reader

↪ summary — you're relatively new in the fog, having been here just long enough to get a hold on the working order of this place when you catch the unfortunate eye of the most obsessive man on the planet, who decides that you're going to be his newest plaything.

or, your first encounter with the notorious ghostface killer goes very poorly.

↪ tags — canon typical violence, swearing, crack treated seriously, blood & injury, obsession at first sight, gender neutral pronouns/description for reader, no use of y/n, and danny's weird way of flirting

↪ word count — 2.4k

a/n: i wrote this originally way back in february but i found it again and figured i would share with the class. inspired by a cool piece of art i saw on twitter that ended up spiraling from there. enjoy!

The cold air of Mount Ormond ski resort bites angrily at your bare face, your shallow breaths manifesting in puffs of white fog as you fight to keep giant spidery talons from spearing through your torso. A low, guttural growl sounds from all around you and nowhere all at once, your arms shaking from effort as a particularly hard shove from the entity forces your hooked shoulder to shift, sending a ripple of white-hot agony through your body. “Fuck!”

This is your first match of the day. Not a single generator has been done and none of your teammates have been hooked yet. If anybody is coming for you, you can’t see through the cage the entity’s talons have created around you, itching to close in and take you back the campfire. You’re half tempted to let her do it.

You barely register the second pair of hands that appears and bats her away until they’re gently pulling you down from the hook by your armpits, holding you up until you’re steady on your feet. You blink away a few stray tears to look up at the face of your savior. “No offense, kiddo, but you look like shit,” says Bill.

You almost shrug instinctively but stop yourself last second. “A little bit taken. I feel like shit,” you mutter. He shoots a cautious glance over his shoulder, then takes you by the arm and leads you away from the hook towards a safer spot to patch you up. You can’t help but flit your gaze all around the area, searching for that haunting white mask or floating strips of leather, wondering if you’re being watched from somewhere.

Bill catches your paranoid expression and frowns. “Christ, what’d you do to him?”

Unable to hide your frustration, you round on Bill with an exasperated cry, “I don’t know! He just—” You make a vague gesture. “Set his eyes on me and decided he wanted me dead! I haven’t even touched a gen yet, for fuck’s sake.”

Bill pulls you behind a boulder secluded somewhere in a corner of the resort. You squint at the shape of the killer shack some ways away, trying to get your bearings. Bill whistles lowly. “Maybe he’s just trying to get an easy win, then. Lord knows it’s working. The rest of us are struggling to keep up.”

You collapse into a bloody pile into the snow, leaning against the rock and pressing a hand against your wounded shoulder while he pops open his medkit. “Yeah, well. I’m still pissed about it.”

“Oh, we all are,” he replies. “Nobody likes being down a teammate this early on. You got anything to help you out?”

Your face scrunches in confusion. “What?”

He raises a grayed eyebrow. “You know, like that trick David pulls to endure pain, or how that girl Laurie hides glass in her sleeves. They teach you any of that?”

“Uhh… No?”

Bill curses under his breath. “You’re kidding, right?” He curses again, louder this time when you shake your head. He digs into one of his many pockets, pulling out something that he clutches tightly in his palm, then motions for you to extend your hand. He places something smooth and warm into it, closing your fingers around the object. “Hide it well, okay? If he sees it, it’s game over. And make sure you don’t. Miss. That was my second chance, and I’m giving it up so you a better shot. If you end up fumbling, I’m never gonna let you live it down.”

Bill holds your gaze until you give a slow nod, retracting his hands as he returns to rustling around the supplies in his medkit. When you open up your fingers, you are greeted by your own reflection looking back at you from a small, sharp piece of glass. It’s almost shaped like a knife if you turn it right. “What do I do with it?” You ask curiously.

Bill wheezes out a laugh. “Stab him with it, obviously.” You bite back a painful hiss when he begins stitching your wounds back together, which he apologizes for under his breath. “But don’t just swing it around all willy-nilly, you gotta wait until he isn’t expecting it—like when he’s got you slung over his shoulder like a sack of meat thinking you’re gonna be an easy kill. Then, you take your opportunity to prove him wrong and stab it right into his shoulder. Always shocks ‘em so bad they drop you then and there. Gives 'em a taste of their own medicine, which they don’t like too much, y’know?”

You stare thoughtfully at the shard. If it’s such an effective tactic, then why in the world hasn’t anybody told you about it? You can’t help but feel a bit betrayed.

“Doesn’t always work, though,” he says, pulling the question straight from your mind. “After a while, they start to expect it, which means you gotta change it up. Start playing stealthier, like Zarina or Jake—the guy’s got an iron will. Real impressive. I have no idea he’s even hurt until I realize he’s left a streak of blood halfway across the map.”

This is all too much information to ingest when you feel about five seconds away from dying via blood loss. “Got it,” you mumble breathlessly.

Bill blanks at you. “You didn’t retain a thing I just said.”

"I got all the important parts."

“Sure you did,” he huffs. He starts opening up some gauze, when all of a sudden, his head shoots up and his whole body goes rigid. Bill’s wide eyes find your alarmed ones, and all that he’s able to get out before all hell breaks loose is, “Run.”

There’s an almost imperceptible rustle of clothing that doesn’t reach your ears. You’re frozen in place, barely given enough time to register the command as you watch him jump to his feet. “What?”

“God damnit, kid, I said run—!”

“There you are,” a third voice purrs, and you barely get a glimpse of the knife that glints maliciously at you just before it’s buried in Bill’s back. The hoarse scream that’s torn from the older man’s throat echoes hauntingly in your ears as it digs in deeper, forcing him against the ground. Dark red splatters across the snow when Ghostface violently wrenches it out of him.

Your shoulder cries out as you feebly scramble backwards, every little cut and bruise on your body flaring in pain as you awkwardly clamber back to your feet. Ghostface steps clean over Bill, who groans in pain on the ground, and the shard in your sweaty hand suddenly feels a thousand times heavier.

You can hear the simper in his voice when he says, “You didn’t forget about little old me, did you?” He wraps his gloved fingers around the bloody knife, wiping it clean with one swipe. “Oh, darling, I’m hurt.”

You’re running before you even know it. The cold air stings your lungs with each intake, your muscles burning with every step. You don't have a clue where you’re headed until you’re tearing through the killer shack, narrowly avoiding crashing into the generator that sits in the middle. You don’t need to look to know that he’s right behind you if the sounds of crunching snow and throaty laughter are anything to go by, and when your bare fingers find the splintered slab of wood sitting against the doorway, you waste no time throwing it down behind you.

You stop and turn to shout obscenities towards your assailant, but he’s nowhere to be found. You blink, and a knife is suddenly jammed between your ribs. “You should really look behind you sometimes,” Ghostface says coolly, pressing the blade deeper in emphasis and relishing in the way you whimper in pain. “Maybe you would have actually seen me go around the side of shack. Kind of embarrassing to fall for that, you know.”

“Fuck you.”

He tsks, ripping the knife out of your side and effectively taking away the only thing keeping you upright, letting you fall to the ground in a bloody heap. You look up at him through hazy eyes, looking like a dark mist against the pale gray sky, the screaming white mask being the only thing to come into focus. “You know, I don’t usually do this—”

You watch as one of his hands dives underneath his cloak, searching around for something for a solid five seconds until he pulls out a small handheld camera with a muted A-ha!

“—but I like you, so I’m willing to make an exception.”

“An exception?" You spit out a wad of blood and saliva. "What the hell are you—”

The air is unceremoniously knocked out of your lungs when he plops himself down on your stomach, knees caging you in and pinning your hands against the snow. You flinch when the glass shard hidden in your sleeve pinches the skin of your wrist.

Gloved fingers firmly grip your jaw and force you to turn toward the camera lens as he leans in close, the scent of cheap cologne assaulting your senses and filling up your head. You swear the smell alone would kill you before he ever could.

“Smile,” he breathes into your ear, and you’re blinded by the flash that goes off when he clicks the camera. You’re busy recoiling in the aftermath while he gazes quietly at the picture in the viewfinder, blinking away the green and purple splotches in your vision. Still gripping your jaw, he forcefully turns your head to show it to you.

The picture looks about exactly how you’d expect it to turn out. You're staring wide-eyed at the camera in shock and fear, blood seeping from your various wounds and soaking into your clothes. His mask takes up the entire left side of the photo, but if you look hard enough, you think you can spot a pair of dark eyes staring into the lens—they’re squinted at the edges, like he’s actually smiling underneath it as he casually holds up a peace sign.

"Say, you weren't a model or anything before this, were you? 'Cause damn." He lets out a low whistle. "This one’s definitely going in my collection.”

He takes one last, long look at the picture before tucking the camera back into his coat and stands, allowing the blood to resume flowing through the veins in both of your arms again as they’re overcome by that numb, prickly feeling. Too hurt and exhausted to resist, you limply allow him to maneuver you into a sitting position, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he effortlessly hauls you up onto his shoulder.

"Alright, playtime's over," he huffs. "Duty calls, blah blah blah, you know how it is. Ain't no rest for the wicked."

Something smooth and sharp slides into your palm from the depths of your sleeve. Catching a glimpse of your reflection in it’s surface, you let out a gasp that Ghostface assumes must be from the sight of the giant meat hook that appears at the corner of the shack, because he gently pats the backs of your thighs in what you assume is meant to be reassurance.

"Now, don't you worry, sweet-pea," he says, “the next time you and I get matched up, I promise I’ll play nice. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll even let you escape, yeah?” He laughs, and you can feel it vibrating through your ribcage. “After I kill your friends, of course.”

You grip the glass so tight in your palm, it digs into your fingers, drawing blood. You see your own eyes staring back at you through a thin stream of red, wild and angry and terrified, Bill’s words bouncing around in your skull as you raise the shard and slam it hard into the back of his shoulder, digging in viciously and twisting.

He inhales sharply, hands immediately losing their grip on you as he drops down to one knee, letting you slide off of his shoulder and land face-first in the snow. You push yourself up to your hands and knees, then to your feet, and glance nervously over your shoulder.

You meet those same eyes that had peered gleefully at you in the picture, no longer hiding behind that wretched mask as it lays by your feet in the snow, but they’re not squinting like they were before. They’re wide, pupils shrunken into tiny pinpricks as they bore into you, nostrils flaring and lips curling into a grimace as he reaches behind him and rips out the glass. Blood sprays from the wound in an arc, a fury so deep and animalistic roiling in his guttural tone as he ...

... Laughs.

Something dangerous glitters within his irises as he turns to face you. What catches you most off-guard, though, is that he's actually handsome underneath the mask—he's younger than you thought, with long lashes and full lips. A tiny scar marks the corner of his mouth, and it stretches slightly as he bares his teeth in a wide, manic grin.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" He drops the glass shard and stands, and you're screaming at your body to move, but you can't. You just watch as he slowly reaches out to collect his mask and knife, refusing to take his eyes off of you even once. It's like it's just his gaze keeping you pinned. "The gift that keeps on giving?"

A loud buzzer sounds from somewhere in the distance. You flick your gaze away for just a moment to check which direction it came from, and by the time you look back, he's already secured the mask back in place.

"I'll tell you what," he begins, tilting his head at you curiously. "Let's make a bet. If you can last until your friends get alll the gens done, I'll let you go."

You swallow thickly. "And if I can't?"

Silence. You don't need to see his face to know that he's smiling. "You wanna find out?"

Strangely enough, a part of you almost does.

He lunges then, but you’re already on the move, adrenaline as well as an odd cocktail blend of terror and exhilaration pushing your body past its limits in a last-ditch effort at escaping this trial with your life.

You probably won’t, but you’re definitely gonna give him a run for his money—you figure that you've earned at least that much.

#divider credit: cafekitsune #ghostface #x reader #ghostface x reader #dead by daylight #scream #danny johnson #danny johnson x reader #reader insert #dbd x reader #reader then proceeded to have a five gen chase and t-bagged the killer at the exit gates with the rest of the team (real)#don't ask what the other two teammates were doing while reader and bill were fighting for their lives #i'm also so sorry if i mischaracterized bill at all i have literally never played left 4 dead #this is the average solo q game #getting tunnelled while nobody does gens

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dirtsoilmulch · 2 months ago

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throws this like molotov

#i need to write coach x reader #not at all relevant but still #artists on tumblr #3d render #sfm #source filmmaker #sfm poster #sfm art #l4d2 #left 4 dead 2 #coach l4d2 #ellis l4d2

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silenceinwind · 1 month ago

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Summary: You found yourself with a group of survivors, for a few weeks now, during this horrid outbreak. It’s pretty obvious one of the younger members has the hots for you.

Characters: Ellis

Series: Left 4 Dead 2

Content: Smut

Occasionally you’d hear the distant scream or fight between two infected zombies as you sat next to the safe house door. Its iconic metal bars that only allowed an arm or many slip in so you could shoot them off if you pleased.

However it wasn’t that kind of morning. You were minding your business, quietly soaking in the silence for as much as you could until the rest of your new found group would slowly stir awake.

Looking around the safe room it was no hotel. But from the looks, this little posse found home within the corners or slumped next to countertops as a means of rest.

One of the men in the group caught your eye. He called himself Ellis. And boy was he a piece of work.

Great fighter, but he had a mouth. Not that it was horrible or anything. You actually really enjoyed it and would even consider saying it was “cute” but the other three would disagree. Especially considering they were much older than you two.

Many attempts would fail or succeed in trying to show off and impress you like a male competing for attention when it came to Ellis. Running past a tank waving his hands like a maniac or shotgunning a jockey clean out of the sky as it took a leap towards Coach. He was absolutely crazy to impress you, but you secretly loved it.

And here you were, catching yourself staring at his broad shoulders as he slept on his side. His hat tossed onto the floor letting his short brown hair see the light.

Your eyes snapped away every second he’d mumble something in his sleep, or move in the slightest bit. Mildly horrified that he’d wake up, roll over, and see you staring at him like a psycho.

Unfortunately one of the times he stirred in his rest he finally woke up. Slowly coming to his senses again as he did.

“Mmmgh…” Ellis grumbled quietly. You could barely catch him cursing under his breath as he sat up with his face in his hands.

You took this chance to sneak another look before turning your head away. Your gaze looking up through the bars towards the sky, the sun was rising.

“Psst…! Hey! You awake?” A southern whisper drew you back to meet his tired gaze. Despite just waking up, he had a small smile twisting onto his face.

“Yeah…” you whispered back, “Have been.”

“Did you get any shut-eye?” His grin swapped to concern within seconds. You held back your small laugh.

“Yes, not a lot. I get scared of the dark.” You teased. He, of course, took it literally.

“Aw man, ain’t nothin’ the dark to be scared of! Just the nasty shit that comes outta it!”

Nick rolled in his slumber. Making both of us freeze in hopes he out of all the adults would stay asleep the longest. Ellis looked at the gambler then to you before tapping his surrounding with his hands until his hat was found and returned back to its rightful head.

Slowly the hick scooted across the carpet floor till he had his back against the same wall you were. He looked over, grinning like a teen as if he had just successfully snuck out of his window to see his lover in the night.

“I uh… s- so by any chance uhm.” Ellis bit his lip. His sudden demeanor swapping out with a more embarrassed expression. “I’m just gunna cut right to the chase here. Have you ever… kissed… a boy? Before? N’ it could be just once or never because now I’m just makin’ shit up as if you had already. Even once…”

“Whoa… okay. First off, yes. Second off, take a well deserved chill pill dude.”

“Sorry… I talk when the nerves get all riled up. I’m very riled up right now. M’hearts beating million miles per second.” He let out a small laugh and gestured towards his chest in a swirling motion with his hands.

You decided to take his hand in yours. “Nerves can be… overwhelming. Especially when you don’t know the outcome.”

“…yeah…” Ellis slowed as he looked deeply towards you.

“And your heart races when you think you’re doing something stupid.”

“Right… right.”

“But… your heart slows down, and you let out a heavy sigh of relief when you realize it’s actually not stupid at all.”

Ellis let out a heavy sigh. Nodding his head at each word that slipped past your lips. You could tell he was staring.

“Especially when…” you looked towards him finally. Practically seeing his breath hitch in his throat as you did. “You have the right idea… Ellis.”

Both of you slowly itched closer to one another. Ellis’ eyes heavy while you kept yours on his lips.

Within seconds you’d meet and hopefully not wake the others around you with your clash of desires. Especially with all the pent of energy of trying to survive and keep your head. It really got thick under your skin after days of working to make it. If you’d make it at all.

Finally you closed your eyes. Feeling his lustful breath hit your lips, leaving your skin with a tingle and a drop to your stomach.

“Boys…” a gentle voice made both you and Ellis snap away in seconds. Your hearts pounding out of your chests as you both collectively looked across the safe room to see Rochelle grinning at the two of you.

“Sorry to interrupt. But…the other two are about to get up.” She pointed at Coach who ironically let out a booming yawn that immediately woke up the man in the suit.

A string of curses followed from Nick as he slowly got up. Swinging his arms and bending his back with a crack that followed.

Ellis bolted up from the wall. Up on his feet within seconds like a deer spotting danger.

“You guys ready to—“ He cleared his throat. Attempting to fake a cough which came out in a weird breathy wheeze. “Head out?”

“Yeah? Jeez I just woke up and already everyone is a pain in my ass.”

“Shut up Nick.” Coach verbally spat in his direction.

“Ya know, without us? You’d be one dead sad corpse on the street Nick.” Ellis grinned at the taller man. Nick rolled his eyes in retort.

“C’mon boys, it’s time I babysit you four.” Rochelle laughed to herself.

As the group began to gear up and ready themselves for the next big clash of the living and the undead Ellis waltzed up beside you as you tinkered with some ammo.

“N’ uhh for the record… I ain’t never kissed a boy.” He whispered. His breath rolling down your neck, whether it was intentional or not it still made your spine shiver.

“But… I’d uhm. I’m just sayin’ we should find a more private place to… y’know.”

“You’re talking about kissing like it’s sex Ellis.” You couldn’t help but grin at his face drop at the mention of the big “S” word.

“You uhhh… are you saying—“

“Alright you two youngins! Let’s get a move on!” Coach beckoned from the door. The other two members of the group already outside and blasting zombies to bits.

The two of you looking over your shoulders you leaned in whispering into the southern boys ear.

Without waiting for his response you treaded past him and out the door ready for what today had to bring. Ellis stood there for a few more minutes. His neck feeling hot and face even hotter.

What you said sent a crashing wave of lustful thoughts that made him wish the two of you were alone right then and there. Instead he ran out the door, shotgun in hand and ready to impress you some more.

…

Hours had passed already. From the sweet calm safe room to out on the streets of this hell. Zombies came in hordes and that was only the beginning of the bloodshed.

You and Ellis with your collective luck managed to be on the opposite side of an oil truck exploding perfectly separating the two youngest from the three oldest.

“Shit! Hordes coming in Ellis!” You shot at any oncoming infected while the hick mildly panicked.

“Alright! We’re gunna meet you at the mall! Now don’t move on till we—!”

“Ellis we’ve got to go! Now!” You shouted over your shoulder. Bullets flew from your smg as you gripped the trigger like it was a lifeline.

Ellis jumped down to your side, taking out a few zeds with his shotgun. You felt his hand wrap around your wrist. He began to pull you away from the active war zone as best he could. The two of you zipping past cars and buildings until you laid eyes on a gas station.

“Move your ass! Straight ahead!” You were now in the lead. Ellis following straight behind as the two of you booked it towards the quiet station.

Glass broke under your shoes as you ran inside. Quickly ducking back into the “employees only” area of the store. You two stood there for a few seconds, panting like dogs after the heavy amount of sprinting that had ensued.

“Jesus… felt like that was our last breathin’ moments.” Ellis slumped into a wall. Letting himself slowly drag down until he sat on the tile floor.

“Yeah… yeah I… that was pretty scary.” You fell down to rest your beating legs. It felt like you had just ran a mile under thirty seconds.

“I say we rest up. Don’t wanna risk our tails second time round. You down?”

“Down.” You plopped down by his side. Wishing you had something to ease your mind from this unfortunate situation.

Silent moments passed. You had your head resting against the wall while you trailed off in thought. Although Ellis, being Ellis, decided to spark up a conversation.

“You uhm… earlier this mornin’ you said you had kissed a boy before.”

“You’re still on about that?” You turn your head to look into those soft, curious eyes.

“Well I mean. Shit. Look I… I don’t know what I like no more. First it was all about girls. Then I met you n’… things changed— my mind changed?”

“Look Ellis. I’ve kissed tons of people before. Some I regret some I don’t but that’s besides the point. It’s just what I like. Maybe you’re the same way.”

“Same way?”

“You probably like both. Just because you suddenly got the hots for me doesn’t exactly mean you’re gay.”

“Huh…” Ellis flipped off his hat. That cute short hair blessing your view once again.

“You want to find out?” You scooted closer. Closing the small gap between the two of you.

“Yeah I’d… really like that… y’know.” Ellis swallowed back his fears. You huffed out a gentle laugh before reaching out to cup his cheek.

His skin was rough but his features were soft. It was cute watching him clear his throat to hold back his shaken breaths as you crept your lips closer to his.

“You sure about this?” You were one more step away from kissing the hick. Ellis nodded his head before words slipped past his lips.

“You know I ain’t much of a man who’s used to bein’ on the receiving end of a kiss. Not like this exactly… but— but course I done did plenty of kissin’ it’s jus’ with you— mgh!”

You couldn’t help it. Halfway through his sweet little rant you thought it would just be best for your ears to shut him up in the best possible way. Ellis immediately took a liking within seconds though.

The man leaned into it, deepening the kiss as best he knew how. Taken back you fumbled a bit in your kiss as he practically pressed his whole body into you. It was a bit shocking but not really. You had to admit he was pretty damn good.

He was the first to pull away. Eyes widened and a small smirk tugged on his cheek. “Holy. Shit.” Ellis stood up from the wall, taking in the room around the two of you.

“I could work wit this.” Ellis nodded his head while rubbing his chin. You couldn’t help the look of confusion that flooded your features as you looked up at him.

“What are you talking about this time?”

“I was thinkin’ we got ‘Nough privacy don’t we? Well maybe we could…” Ellis dropped his head to scratch the back of his neck. His bigger self shrinking as he grew embarrassed once again.

“Are you asking me to have sex with you?”

“Well don’t jus’ say it like that! I want to make love with you. Not jus’ fuck one another n’ call it a night. Sure this ain’t no romantic rose petal infested bedroom but…” Ellis trailed off. Using his hands in abundance to talk for him.

“Shh, I get your point.” You stood up from sitting on the floor. “I like you too.”

“Just… like? Really…?”

“We’ll figure it out later. I’m convinced you aren’t entirely sure about this.”

“Only one way to find out. C’mere.” Ellis took a step back, sitting on the table behind him. That grin returning back to his face.

…

Your clothes were strung about the small space. Ellis’ hat thrown onto the floor along with your pants and shirt just beside it.

Ellis had bent you over the table, prepping you from behind as you rested your head in your arms. Your stomach fluttered and your eyes felt heavy as his fingers slowly slid in and out.

“Feelin’ good up there?” You could practically hear the smile from his voice.

You nodded and gave a “mhm” with furrowed brows. Getting a bit impatient you began to spread your legs a little more for him, hoping he’d catch the idea.

He did. With a simple click of his tongue his fingers retreated back and you now felt both his hands grip tightly onto your waist. Ellis’ rough callused palms practically dug into the tender bits of your skin. Christ it felt good.

“Now… I haven’t done this in practically a century. So don’t judge me on my—“

“I think it’ll feel good no matter. So why don’t we find out? Tough guy.”

That name set him off like fireworks on the fourth. His grip on your waist tightened and you could now feel him guide himself inside slowly.

You rolled your head forward into your arms again. Letting yourself feel every inch of him connecting with you.

“Fu—ck! Jumping Jesus you feel… holy sh—!” Ellis’ voice choked back with a rolling moan as he fully slid inside. His eyes glazed over where he was inside you up towards his hands. He squeezed and you let out a moan of your own.

“God I gotta start… but— you ready? I… I can…”

Looking over your shoulder you met with his eyes. So soft and caring it made your entire body feel warm despite the cold that crawled up your skin with the lack of clothing. You nodded, reaching a hand back to grab his wrist and squeeze.

“Go on…” you breathed. He nodded while lowering his gaze back down to your ass.

Beginning slow he slid out then back in a few times until he began to quicken his pace. Still looking at him and his adorable expression you began to smile softly.

Ellis had his brows furrowed with a somewhat saddened expression. His mouth hung open a bit with the occasional “fuck” or southern saying. Eventually he really got into it.

His hips thrusting into your backside causing that sweet sound of skin slapping against skin. You readjusted slightly, now instead of laying on the table you propped yourself up to get better leverage.

The hick took this as the perfect opportunity to raise his grip higher. Wrapping his arms around your chest as he began to shoot his hips into you. Moaning and grunting like animals.

You turned your torso a bit to face him better. Both of you immediately clashing lips like it was your last day on earth. Few more minutes passed with a few more following thrusts that began to stagger and fall less consistently.

The universal sigh he was close, you could tell. And as if he could read your mind his voice blurted out in a groan.

“I’m… so so fuckin’ close—! So close… I’m gunna— hah do you—?”

“Do it—!” You managed to choke out past your constant ring of moans that rolled up your throat with each following thrust that met your skin.

“Fuck fuck fuck!!!” Ellis clutched onto you like a lifeline as he buried himself into you as deep as he possibly could.

The weight of him rolling into you made you both lay onto the table. You felt every string of his release within you. Out of all the bullshit you’d been through both of you definitely needed this.

Ellis lifted himself from off your back, panting like he was before when the two of you had first found this place. You looked over your shoulder wondering what he was thinking.

“We are definitely doin’ this again…” Ellis smiled down at you before peppering your shoulders and neck in kisses.

“No doubt about it…” you exhaled with a smile.

“So does this make us—“

Ripping through the calm silence of the gas station around you was that terrible noise of a car alarm blaring. Both you and Ellis stopped everything to clean up as fast as you could. In the speed of the moment neither of you cared who put on what article of clothing as you both began to sprint out the gas station once again.

BOUNES:

An hour had passed officially. You and Ellis casually strolling up to the mall like you hadn’t just fought an army of the undead within the past hour. And other things…

Rochelle, standing outside the safe room door, immediately spotted the two of you. Running up with open arms. Clutching into the two with a small sob.

“You boys ain’t never leaving my sight again!” She pulled back taking a good look at the grime and sweat on your faces.

You both shared a smile at the news reporter.

“Jesus kids what the hell where you both doin?” Coach waltzed up beside Rochelle, just as concerned as she was for your well being.

“Great family reunion.” Nick scoffed. “But can we address the fact that you’re wearing Ellis’ shirt.”

Nick pointed towards you. Your face and stomach felt the rush of embarrassment. You also had just realized… you were wearing Ellis’ shirt and he was wearing yours.

#x male reader #mlm fanfic #mlm #mlm smut #left 4 dead 2 #left 4 dead #left 4 dead ellis #mlm fiction

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sunflwrapple · 1 year ago

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Y/N, whispered : Arthur~ I love you~ :>

Arthur, snoring away :

Y/N, gently slapping his cheek : Arthur? Arthur wake up!

Arthur, turning away :

Y/N, lets out soft offended gasp : >:o

Y/N, starts hitting him with pillow : ARTHUR GET YOUR BUTT UP AND SAY I LOVE YOU BACK!

Arthur, not affected : Hmm.

Y/N, tsk’d : Don’t ‘Hmm’ me! Tell me you love me back

Arthur : I love me back. Now shut up, I want sleep.

Y/N : . . .

Y/N, laying back down then face the opposite direction with a pout : I hate you.

Arthur, sighs :

Arthur, turning over to pull you into his arms tightly : Love you too, sunshine.

Y/N, slowly melting into his embrace but still pouting out of stubbornness :

#「 ✦ RDR2 ✦ 」#Original : I found this prompt on Pinterest | I’m annoyed they don’t tell or show the ones who wrote it most of the ones I found ��#Red Dead Redemption #Red Dead Redemption 2 #Red Dead Redemption 2 x reader #Red Dead Redemption incorrect quotes #RDR2 #rdr2 x reader #Arthur Morgan #Arthur Morgan x reader #Arthur Morgan x you #Arthur Morgan fluff #all pics above except gold dividers are from Pinterest #(Pic far left is from @brodieniblett on Pinterest)#(Pic in middle I found from @loureids on Pinterest)#(Pic far right is from @Ultra78677 on Pinterest)#red dead fandom #Red Dead Redemption 2 Arthur Morgan #my works

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skmhlml · 6 days ago

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Could you do L4D Hunter x Fem! Reader?

L4D Hunter x Fem!Reader | General + NSFW |

Note: does Fing a zombie count as necrophillia?🤨

Requested: 6/16/2025

Warning: Themes of feral monster sex, necrophilia-adjacent fantasy, blood play, non-verbal/non-traditional consent, possessive behavior, and dub-con tones.

⚰︎ He was a quiet loner, hoodie pulled up, voice rarely heard. He might’ve been homeless or struggling with mental health before the infection took hold.

⚰︎ You possibly knew him before, maybe passed him daily on the street, always wondering about the guy who never made eye contact.

⚰︎ As a Hunter, he’s feral. Agile, predatory, and deeply territorial.

⚰︎ But something about you stalls the beast—whether it’s your scent, voice, or a flash of memory from before.

⚰︎ You were meant to be another kill. But instead of tearing your throat out, he backs off. Watches from a rooftop. Follows silently.

⚰︎ You don’t talk; he doesn’t speak words anymore, just growls, whines, and clicks. But you understand.

⚰︎ He brings you offerings— scraps of food, useful tools, once even a plushie— proof he knows what comfort is.

⚰︎ The other infected avoid you, either sensing his protection or because you smell like him.

⚰︎ Sex is raw, possessive, and deeply primal. He doesn’t understand restraint unless you teach him through repetition and soft touches.

⚰︎ He growls and whines during foreplay, panting against your neck, claws digging into the ground as he tries to control his hunger— not for your flesh, but your body.

⚰︎ He may lick or taste you obsessively, like he’s learning your scent and flavor to memory. It’s both sensual and animalistic.

⚰︎ He’s cold. Undead, technically. But your warmth is addictive.

⚰︎ He buries himself in you just to feel alive, thrusts erratic and rough as if he’s trying to burn himself back into the world through your body.

⚰︎ It becomes a habit— every time he finishes, he curls into you, chest rising and falling like he’s mimicking breath.

⚰︎ He’s territorial. He’ll bite (lightly or not), scratch, and press his scent over your skin. You often wake with bruises or dried blood— never yours.

⚰︎ He doesn’t like being cleaned off. If you wash off his scent, he might react aggressively the next time, pinning you down and starting again, possessive and frantic.

⚰︎ He doesn’t understand the concept of reproduction anymore—but instinct drives him. He’ll rut into you like he’s trying to seed you, whimpering deep in his chest.

⚰︎ Whether it’s fantasy or not, he becomes obsessed with cumming inside, watching it drip out like it proves you’re his.

#L4D #l4d hunter #l4d hunter x reader #hunter x reader left 4 dead #hunter left 4 dead #hunter left 4 dead x reader #zombie x reader #monster fucker #horror

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mazeycasulll · 1 month ago

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Trying a go at fanfic so here we go!!

NSFW Nick L4D2 x Reader

Jimmy Gibbs Jr’s Car + Close Quarters = ….

The engine’s off, but the air inside the car is thick with heat.

Maybe it’s the Georgia sun beating down on the windshield. Maybe it’s the way Nick’s sitting next to you, legs spread, arms folded, that perpetual scowl stitched into his face like it’s part of his damn wardrobe. Or maybe it’s because the two of you can’t stand each other and Coach, in all his wisdom, decided that meant you should be the ones stuck guarding the car while the others scavenge.

You shift in the backseat seat, knee brushing his. He doesn’t move.

“You could at least try not to take up the whole goddamn car.”

Nick tilts his head, smirking without looking at you. “Sweetheart, this is Jimmy Gibbs Jr.’s car. I’m just treating it with the respect it deserves.”

“By treating it like your personal recliner?”

He finally turns to look at you, blue eyes sharp, unreadable. “You jealous or just desperate for attention?”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “Please. I wouldn’t even touch you with my shotgun.”

“Bold talk for someone stuck with me in here for the next two hours.” His eyes flick downward for a beat too long—to your mouth, then your throat. The way his gaze lingers makes your skin crawl, but not from discomfort.

He notices. Of course he does.

You lean back, the seat creaking beneath you. “What? I’m not the one staring.”

Nick shifts in his seat, elbow brushing yours now, purposefully slow. “No, but you’re not exactly looking away either.”

The silence that follows is different—thick, charged. There’s no radio, no gunfire, no moaning infected to distract from the thrum of your pulse. Just the faint tick of the engine cooling and the sound of Nick breathing, close enough that you can feel it.

“You always pick fights with people you want to sleep with?” you murmur, voice low, dangerous.

Nick’s grin curls like smoke. “Only when I think it’ll work.”

There it is. The spark in his eye, the shift in the air, like a storm gathering just beneath the surface.

Your breath hitches. You don’t move when his fingers brush your knee. You should slap his hand away. You should tell him to fuck off. You don’t.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” you whisper.

Nick leans in, voice rough. “Show me how dangerous honey.”

You don’t remember leaning in, but suddenly your faces are too close, the heat of his breath on your cheek, the line between irritation and desire practically evaporated. It’s not soft. It’s not sweet. It’s inevitable.

When your lips crash into his, it’s fire and gasoline—too much teeth and too much want. He grabs your waist like he’s been dying to, like he’s claiming victory. Your fingers tangle in his shirt, pulling him closer even as your mind screams that this is a terrible idea.

But god, it feels so good to be wrong.

The windows fog. The world disappears. All that’s left is the ache, the tension, and Nick annoying, cocky, infuriating Nick tangled up in you like you’re the only thing that’s ever made him shut up.

The moment your mouths crash together again, everything else vanishes morality, logic, the goddamn apocalypse. It’s just you and Nick and the heat clawing up your spine like wildfire.

He groans into your mouth when you tug at his shirt, nails digging into his side like you’re trying to anchor yourself. Nick is all hands now—rough palms skating over your thighs, your waist, gripping like he’s scared you’ll disappear before he gets enough. But you’re not going anywhere. Not now.

He climbs over, settling between your legs like he owns the space. Like he owns you. His weight pins you to the seat, his hips grinding down just enough to make your back arch, a moan slipping out before you can stop it.

“Fuck,” he mutters, voice gravel and heat, “you sound better than I imagined.”

You shove his jacket off his shoulders, frantic, your hands all over his chest, his stomach, needing to feel. His shirt unbutton with your urgency, and your fingers trail over the skin just above his belt, making him shiver.

He’s not gentle. You didn’t want him to be.

When his mouth moves to your neck, you tilt your head back, letting him bite, suck, mark. Your legs wrap around his waist as he grinds against you harder now, the friction maddening. The windows are fogged, the leather seat sticking to your skin, but neither of you care.

You fumble at his belt—he helps, cursing under his breath when your fingers brush him through his boxers. The smugness fades from his face for a split second, replaced with raw hunger.

“You wanna keep dry fucking me or are we doing this?” you tease, voice breathless, lips swollen.

He grabs your jaw, tilting your head to meet his eyes. “I’m gonna ruin you, sweetheart.”

Your clothes hit the floorboard, disheveled and forgotten. His fingers find you first, slipping between your thighs with practiced ease, testing, teasing, slick and ready. Your hips buck into his hand, and he smirks again but softer this time. Almost reverent.

“Christ… look at you,” he whispers. “You really hate me that much, huh?”

You reach down, wrapping your hand around him. He hisses through his teeth, bucking into your palm. “Shut up and fuck me, Nick.”

The first thrust is fast and unforgiving, but it’s exactly what you both need. The car rocks slightly with each thrust, your fingers dig into his back, nails raking down hard enough to leave marks. He buries his face in your shoulder, breath ragged, voice filthy in your ear.

“You feel—fuck—feel so good. Fuckin’ perfect…”

You can barely respond, too caught in the rhythm, the stretch, the way every thrust makes your breath catch. You cling to him, wrap your legs tighter, drag him deeper.

It builds fast—heat curling in your gut, tension wound so tight you can barely think.

Nick kisses you again, all tongue and desperation. “Come on sweetie,” he growls, “come with me. Let me feel it.”

You fall apart around him with a strangled cry, nails digging into his shoulders, hips jerking helplessly. He follows with a low, guttural groan, spilling into you as his rhythm falters, hips twitching through the aftershocks.

Silence falls, broken only by the sound of panting and the ticking engine.

His forehead rests against yours, and you’re both still tangled up, sweat-slick and breathless.

“Still hate me?” he mutters, lips brushing yours.

#l4d2 nick x reader #left 4 dead 2 #nick left 4 dead 2 #fanfic #nick l4d2

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chocolatebunn · 2 years ago

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What kind of man is this and does this have something to do with mental illness???

Answer truthfully.

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finniestoncrane · 1 year ago

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2.5k Event Request - Nick x GN!Reader word count: 970 a/n: what i wouldn't give for this idiot to teach me everything he knows, because i just know he's picked up a few tricks (and infections) along his way... cw: reader is afab, inexperience, loss of virginity, first kiss, dirty talk kinda 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie2.5k (to follow or to block)

Nick was speechless, for once, in the face of your confession. Shocked at how you had said it so passively, how you were willing to be so vulnerable with a man who took everything anyone said to him to use as ammunition when it suited him, whether as a serious threat or as playful teasing.

“Are you… are you kidding me?”

“Does that sound like something I’d joke about? Is my situation funny in any way to you?”

He raised his hands quickly, averting his eyes from your intense gaze as he let you repeat yourself, listening intently to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood.

“I can’t really find the joke when I’m so pissed off, y’know? What kind of bad luck do you need to have to be a virgin at the end of the world?”

“Yeah, no, that’s… That sucks. But you can always remedy that situation.”

In your peripheral you caught a glimpse of that signature Nick smirk, one that seemed playful and cruel all at the same time.

“Oh yeah, because there’s tonnes of eligible partners walking around these days, huh?”

“Listen, being picky got you in this mess, you wanna keep that up?”

You were read to scold him as you turned his way, about to correct him and tell him off for making assumptions, but the words stuttered to a halt in your mouth as you caught his expression. Eyebrows raised expectantly, smirk turning into a sneer as he waited for you to catch on. And when you did, you let out an exclaimed, short laugh.

“I’m up for it if you are. There’s nothing better to do out here.”

“Oh wow. I’m very flattered.”

Your tone was flat, unamused, and as you turned away from him, you felt his hand reach for your arm, grabbing you and keeping you close to him on the roof of the abandoned motel where you intended to spend the night.

“No, no, no, hey! Wait! Come on, that’s not what I meant… I’m just trying to… make it less of an event. It’s casual. No big deal. One friend helping another.”

Eyeing him up, you turned your body back around to him.

“No big deal? Just casual? Promise?”

“Of course, completely! I’ve done this so many times. Just a one-night stand… My experience speaks for itself. Besides, rooftop at sunset? The world all ours? Can’t think of a better time to knock that one off the bucket list.”

“Well… tell me what you’re going to do, first.”

The request flustered him, something you’d never seen before in the man who had always remained cool, calm and collected in the face of even your more monstrous enemies.

“I think we should kiss first. Helps ease the tension, makes the next steps easier.”

“I’ve never kissed anyone either…”

“Fuck me…”

Nick could feel his cock twitching, and he shifted to hide the obvious tenting at the front of his white pants. The thought of you, so sweet and innocent, being corrupted by him, completely at his will, eager to learn, eager to have him show you everything he knew… it was enough to make him lose control of himself. He had to stay focused. So he took a deep breath and continued.

“Ok then. Kiss first. Nothing fancy. No tongues to start. Soft and gentle. Then, I guess we should keep our clothes on as much as we can… Which I have to admit is a little disappointing, because I have been admiring your ample physique when I’ve had a spare moment… But we don’t want to be caught off guard. But I could pull your pants down a little, see what we’re working with.”

“Oh my god.”

He blushed, immediately trying to smooth over his clumsy wording.

“Sorry, I just mean a little foreplay never hurt anybody. Even people who are desperate to get to the main event. Plus, it’ll be a little taste of what’s to come if I use my fingers first.”

“Oh? Are they comparable size-wise then?”

He snorted, scoffing at the ridiculous insinuation.

“No, it absolutely is not. But I wouldn’t want to hurt a pretty thing like you by barrelling into it, even if you have plenty of cushioning where it’s best to have it…”

He was distracted again, focusing on your body, the curves and rolls that he’d thought about running his hands over each night as he tried to fall asleep.

“Nick…?”

Distracted once again, he scolded himself quietly and tried to get back on track.

“Right… once you’re ready, I’ll just…”

“Just what?”

“I don’t know how to word it.”

His cheeks were reddening, brighter than before.

“Are you embarrassed, Nick?”

“No! It’s just hard to figure out how to word it in a way that isn’t just me telling you that once that tight hole of yours is wet enough, I’ll spread you open, push my cock inside of you and start fucking me until you cum quick like the desperate virgin you are. Doesn’t sound that romantic, does it?”

“That… actually sounds good.”

“Really? Well, what are we waiting for then?”

As Nick leaned in, his lips close enough to yours that you could almost feel them on you, a screech echoed across the car park behind you, the warning sign of impending doom in the form of whatever creature might have inadvertently stumbled upon you both. As you looked to Nick, he cocked his gun and stood up, offering you a helping hand as he spoke.

“Looks like you might need to wait a little longer.”

In response to his mean-spirited wink, you offered a sarcastic smile, more a grimace.

“Hopefully I find someone better before we’re alone again, then.”

His smile widened, the flirtatious teasing only securing his desire to make sure he was the one who cured what ailed you.

#finnie writes #l4d2 #nick l4d2 #left 4 dead 2 #nick left 4 dead 2 #nick x reader #nick l4d2 x reader #x reader #finnie2.5k

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