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loganlermanstanaccount · 9 months

Note

if ur still taking requests could u do dbf!miguel? :3

he would be a brat tamer, change my mind.

DBF!Miguel O'Hara

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

DBF!Miguel O'Hara x fem reader

summary: fucking dbf!mig in a closet at a christmas party <3

warnings: Minors DNI. 18+. Brat taming, PIV, oral (f receiving), semi-public sex. established relationship? idk, this isn't the first time y'all are fucking

a/n: if you squint this is christmas themed. happy holidays everyone!

wc: 1k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dbf!Miguel but he has some semblance of a conscience. He has just enough self awareness, the wherewithal to feel guilty as he fucks you - sighing into the crook of your neck as you whine.

And God, do you whine… simpering, breathy little moans that go straight to his cock. The way you squirm underneath him, legs shaking and shivering so he has to dig into the meat of perfect thigh just a bit more; lapping at that dip below your jaw in a frenzy.

“Quiet.” He hisses, grinding his pelvis against yours, pushing your body flat against the wall.

“F-Fuck, Mig… can't–”

When your head tips back, and it will - he's been fucking you long enough to know your tells, to catch every shiver and creak of bones before you come - he'll lick up those moans too.

You keen, fucking back on his length, and Miguel shifts his hips just so - hiking up your leg even higher. With one swift movement, you've wrapped your arms around his shoulders, hand in his hair. He's pulled out, tip of his cock kissing your hole, and then he slams himself back in - a delicious curve that hits just the right place.

“Look at me.” He says it soft, tilting your chin so your noses graze against one another, lips barely a hair's breadth away. “You're close, baby.”

He says it like a statement, so attuned to you in that little coat closet, batting away fur trim and padding. And it's intimate, tits pressed up against him, spilling out of a push up bra under an itchy jumper you wore specifically for him - but of course, you wouldn't dare say as such.

The way your lips press against him is enough, desperate and breathy. He presses the flat of his thumb - deliciously rough, with just the right amount of pressure - against your clit, and your legs buckle under the pleasure that it brings.

“Look at me.” He says it again, crooning and gentle. “Want you to look at me when you come, hermosa.”

Like a dog in heat, what he says, goes; and you're brought to the edge by just his words. Quiet, like he said you should, and you nip at the juncture of neck peeking out from that thickly knit sweater, biting down a moan. It rips through you, bubbling up at your chest, causing you to clamp down on his length.

“Needy girl…. O-Oh fuck….” Miguel whispers it into your ear, holding you close.

Eyes lidded, you trace cheekbone and deep furrows, addicted to the way his dimples look in the low light. And when you tug, hand in his hair and pulling him closer, deeper, milking his cock; he rewards with you with hot cum and a sloppy kiss.

Hips stuttering, eventually he pulls out; tucking his cock back into loose slacks. You're breathless, slumped back onto cool. wall.

“Give me a second…” You huff.

“Here,” He says, wrapping the limp limbs around his shoulders even tighter. “Don't be a brat.”

It’s said without any real venom, quiet protests kissed into skin. He sinks to his knees, using his thumbs to open up your cunt, marvelling at the way you glisten. It makes you hot under the collar, batting him away. Regardless, Miguel persists, swiping his tongue at your pretty hole and taking a careful taste.

You squirm - half-heartedly, with a hand in his hair - as he presses pretty kisses, eating out his cum with a nose at your clit. You're close, tugging That second orgasm, ever elusive, is snatched away.

“Fuck you.” You spit, watching him wipe a hand across stubble as he gets up.

“Watch the attitude. S'why we're here in the first place.”

“No.” Adjusting your skirt, you step forward. If looks could kill, Miguel could give you a run for your money, you realise with a grimace. “We're here because you're a dirty old man.”

He rolls his eyes, arms crossed in the tiny space.

“Someone needs to teach you some manners.” He grunts.

…by fucking you in a coat closet? You raise an eyebrow.

“Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

He doesn't crack a smile, opting for a hand snaked under your skirt instead. Squeezing your ass, he presses you against him and gulps down subsequent moans. You both separate with a wet pop.

He goes to bed with a hand down his pants, fucking his hand to the pictures you send him late at night. But you already know that.

Miguel sighs, watching as you slip out of the little room, smoothing out the wrinkles in your skirt, adjusting a crinkly paper crown. After a reasonable amount of time, he follows the path you must have taken, across the hall and into the dining room, met with a dozen faces milling about.

There you are in the corner, pressing manicured nails to a screen; ignoring the way half the people in the room ogle you: the boss's kid. His chest puffs up, protective. There's a line drawn in the sand, between him and them. When he looks you up and down, traces the curve of thigh disappearing under a too-short skirt…. it's different, he thinks.

As if you can hear his thoughts, you look up. Catching his eye, he doesn't miss the way your thighs squeeze together, nor how you shift your red sweater to hide a blossoming bruise.

Good. You're learning.

Your dad asked him to take care of you - preening and dithering despite the fact you were grown; definitely not his wide eyed little girl. Spoilt rotten, sure. But Miguel will do anything to keep you safe, even if that means a few... corrective measures.

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #kat_writes😼#miguel o'hara smut #dbf!miguel

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inlovewithgreta · 2 months

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CAN YOU WRITE A WANDA X READER FIC THANK YOU I LOVE YOU

I am so so excited to share this, it took me forever but I’m happy with how it turned out!

Thank you for requesting my favorite marvel milf, I love you too and I hope you enjoy! xo

Naked In Manhattan - Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Summary: Wanda is eager to please you.

Warnings: praise, pet names, enchanted strap, slight breeding kink, fingering, mommy kink, not proofread...

Word Count: 1.6k

Taglist: @shslbunnylover @celasteria @bellatrixsbrat @aemilia19 @anonwhowrites

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Both you and Wanda were on the way home from a press event, sitting in comfortable silence with your head laid firmly against her shoulder.

Wanda leaned impossibly closer, giving the top of your head a sweet and tender kiss. You hummed when she tilted your head to plaster kisses along your entire face.

You couldn't help but giggle at the attack of kisses, cheeks instantly growing a shade darker, as they always did from her affection. Wanda was careful to pull your hair, forcing your face to hers to place a passionate kiss to your lips.

"What's got you all touchy feely?" you playfully questioned.

"You're just so gorgeous, I can't keep my hands to myself," she admitted, gazing at you lovingly. The redness in her eyes grew brighter as you tugged on her suit jacket and lowered your voice.

"Then don't..." you teased. Wanda groaned at your tone. She wanted nothing more than to take you right then and there, but the limo was far too public for her liking.

"We'll take the private elevator up. I don't want anybody interrupting us."

You captured Wanda's mouth on your own, starting soft but quickly turning feverish. Air was nonexistent until you two had to break away to leave the confinements of the car.

Holding hands all the way to the elevator, Wanda's heels clicked and clacked with every passing second, clearly impatient waiting for the elevator to come to the bottom floor.

Wanda practically drags you inside the elevator, only giving you enough time to press the button you need for the penthouse before her lips are on yours.

Knowing the elevator would lead straight to your penthouse, Wanda was quick with unbuttoning your blouse in record speed. Once your chest was visible, her lips left yours to roam down your neck.

Your back was pressed against the cold tiled wall as your grip on the woman grew stronger.

The ding of the elevator had Wanda's hands grip at the back of your thighs to carry you in her arms into your shared penthouse.

"Need you so bad..." you whined, tugging at her jacket. "Need your clothes off.."

"Yes, ma'am," Wanda smirked, hastily making her way to the bedroom to set you atop the mattress.

You whipped off your shirt as Wanda took off her own, and you couldn't help but take in every inch of her. Her body was perfect.

She was perfect.

Her own gaze was hungry as she stripped herself from her pants and took a daring step closer to you.

Your hands immediately reached for her, running them up and down the length of her body, drawing a fine line over her freckled skin.

Wanda is quick to pull at your own bottoms, to leave both of you in your underwear. The redhead straddles your lap to attack your neck. Your head instantly lulls back to give her more access.

You snap at the waistband of her underwear, smirking as she lets out a small groan.

"Get the strap," you demanded. "I want you to fuck me with your strap, please.."

"Such a naughty little thing," Her eyes darkened at your words as she gave you one last peck on the lips before pushing herself off you to grab the strap from the nightstand.

"Is this what you wanted, pretty girl?" She smirked, before tightening the strap around herself. The crimson toy matched the glow in her eyes, and you knew exactly what was coming.

"Yes.. that's exactly what I wanted, now come here," you beckoned her over. Your head fell flat against a plush pillow as Wanda crawled her way back up your body.

"You little minx.." Wanda's hands gripped behind your back, freeing your tits from your nude bra so she could palm them. Her thumbs circled your nipples until they peaked for her.

You drew in a sharp breath when her strap rubbed against your still clothed pussy. Wanda admired the way your chest rose and fell in anticipation.

"But you're mommy's little minx, isn't that right, baby?" She asked you, spreading your legs widely for her so she can slip your panties down your legs.

"Mhmm," All words were lost, completely vanishing when her fingers brushed your center.

"And so wet for me already," she chuckled, before letting one slender finger slide in your hole.

Wanda started tortuously slow, letting her finger glide in and out of you at the slowest pace imaginable.

"Mommy.." you bucked your hips, needing more than what she was currently giving you. "I need you.."

"I know you do, baby but I need to warm you up first," she reassured you. "You're so tight.." Ginger locks tickled your face when Wanda leaned in to give you a quick but tender kiss on the lips.

When she felt you relax more, a second finger slipped inside you. "Oh God," your back arched from the bed. "Feels so good..."

"You're doing so good for me," Wanda cooed. She peppered your face with gentle kisses as her fingers worked wonders on your core.

"Wanda, please..." you begged, tucking her stray crimson locks behind her ears. "Just fuck me already!" You pouted into the kiss as her fingers slipped out of you to line her toy up to your entrance.

"Your wish is my command," she took hold of her length, spreading your wetness across the tip of her toy before slowly pushing inside you.

"Fuck, you're so damn right around mommy's cock.." she groaned. Her eyes shined a bright crimson as she enchanted her strap.

She could feel your tight pussy grip her long cock as she pushed deep inside of you. "Oh— please— go faster..." Your legs wrapped around Wanda's waist, holding her flush against your body as she rocked her hips.

Wanda did as you commanded, slowly picking up her pace until she was pounding into you with such speed and precision that both of you were moaning loudly.

Her hands slid into your own, interlacing her fingers tightly with yours as she held your hands just beside your head. Red tendrils circled both of your wrists as Wanda used her magic to bind the two of you together.

The room filled with pornographic moans as you felt the redhead fucking you deeply, and Wanda feeling just how wet, warm, and tight you were around her with each thrust.

You could feel yourself hurtling towards the edge with each thrust and grunt the witch made. "Like this?" She asked, lips hovering next to your ear.

"Yes...God, yes!" Her lips moved to your neck, sucking and nibbling at the soft flesh. You couldn't wait any longer and found yourself clenching tightly around her glowing cock as you came hard.

"Fuck, baby that feels so good," she groaned. Your nails dug into her back as she fucked you through your high.

Your breathing was ragged, but a burst of energy ran through your veins as lust took complete control over your body. In one fluid motion, you expertly flip the two of you over to have you straddling Wanda.

The new position let Wanda hit deeper inside of your pussy as you bottomed her out with ease. Wanda was shocked at your sudden urgency to ride her cock, but her hands were quick to guide your hips.

"Come inside me, mommy," you beckoned.

You sank down onto her with a heavy thrust, earning a plethora of moans from the redhead as she watched you intently.

"You want mommy to fill you up, huh?" She asked through a series of moans as she bucked her hips up to meet you. Her glowing eyes couldn't help but stare at your tits bouncing heavenly in her face.

"Yes, mommy... fill me, please!" Your own hands fell to her shoulders to keep you steady as you rocked on her length.

"That's my good girl... taking mommy's cock so well," you cooed, fingers kneading at the soft flesh upon your hips. "Mommy is going to fill you up," she said.

Wanda moaned with pleasure as she thrusted deeply, matching the rhythm you had set for yourself. Her hands moved to cup your ass to steadily increase the tempo.

You reaching up to cup your breasts, fingers toying with your hardened nipples was the last straw for Wanda. A string of curses fell past her lips as the pleasure surged through both her and you.

"Fuck, baby... you're so beautiful.." Wanda filled you with her thick, warm come as she pulled you into a deep kiss. The two of you reel together as you come in sync.

Your whole body shook as you spasmed, while Wanda stilled before gently pulling herself out of you. You couldn't help but whine from the emptiness but Wanda only let out another moan as she watched your mixed come drop out of your used hole.

"Are you okay, my love?" She asked, using her wispy red magic to make the strap disappear.

"Mhm," was all you were able to get out, and Wanda helped you lay down on your side, seeing how spent you were.

Your body shook but your smile remained huge as your lover tucked your hair behind your ear and gave your sweaty forehead a loving kiss. Wanda always made your heart swoon at the tender moments, even just after rough sex.

"Mommy's gonna clean you up now so we can cuddle and get some sleep, okay?" She asked, holding her crimson palm towards your body.

With a nod of your head, Wanda used her experienced magic to clean both of you off before her eyes lost their signature red hue.

Wanda pulled you close, your leg instantly tangling with hers as she held you to her chest. Your eyes were quick to flutter, and Wanda let out a small giggle at your lashes tickling her chest.

"Get some sleep, baby." Her fingers gently ran through your hair to soothe you.

The last thing you remembered was the beautiful sound of her humming a lullaby to help lure you into a deep sleep.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

general masterlist | lizzie masterlist | taglist

#lizzie olsen #elizabeth olsen #marvel #wanda marvel #wanda mcu #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #mommy wanda #wanda x you #scarlet witch #fanfic #smut #lesbiansmut #wlw smut #oneshot #lesbian

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starminzoo · 2 months

Text

╭──────────────────✎

╰─▗ ▘➤𖥸 please baby

warnings: face sitting (obv), mingi is asleep but everything is done under consent, cursing, just wow writing this made me horny be careful 😔, hair gripping

you laid wide awake in your bed with your boyfriend lying beside you snoring away, it was still too early to get up and start your day so you laid there. eyes staring up at the ceiling with no interest but you were grumpy and why would you ask? because you were horny like incredibly horny that was the first reason why you were up so early you had tried to bring yourself to relief with your fingers but it was no where helpful to bring you close to the release you wanted. your eyes moved away from the ceiling and to your boyfriend staring at him your mind went back to the conversation you had with him a few days ago (short summary that if any of you was needy and the other was sleeping you guys had consent to use them for your pleasure) so you thought about it contemplating if you should take an action or not mostly because you were shy, but the more you stared at his lips and his perfect nose the desire to have his face buried deep in your cunt made your find fuzzy and inner thighs wet due to your leaking arousal so a few more minutes of staring at him you made your final decision.

fortunately he was already on his back but his face was sideways so you turned his head facing the ceiling but now you hovered over his face, both your thighs were around his neck, his button up shirt you wore to bed was clutched in you hands soft gasp left your mouth as you saw the view beneath you warmth crawled all over your body mind cloudy with need. fuck this was so hot you never knew this position could leave you this breathless and you hadn't even done anything. soft snores left his mouth which directly fanned over your wet cunt resulting in soft moans from your mouth, slowly you lowered yourself on his mouth as his lips came in contact with your cunt soft gasps left your mouth, you didn't dared to look down but braced yourself holding onto the headboard and started to roll your hips gently "fuck baby please wake up I need you" you threw your head back, one hand now tangling in your hair pulling at your roots just like how mingi did , you unconsciously began to move faster (basically humping his face) eager to reach your high soo too lost in the pleasure your dismissed the movements occuring beneath you. mingi couldn't grasp the situation so he abruptly opened his eyes to the marvelous view you provided him, it took him a few seconds to register what was happening and boy was he glad for the it.

he bought his hands around your hips pushing you completely down on his mouth, as he started to suck and lap up at your juices groaning as he did you yelped at the sudden sensation "please mingi please I am soo close please baby" you pulled your head back and stared down at him, eyes blown away and fixated on you as he rapidly lapped up on your cunt , your hand tangled in his hair slightly tugging to assure him that he was doing amazing as you were not in your right mind to even form a sentence, the knot in your stomach tightened by each passing second and then it finally snapped, your shrieked and thrashed above him trying to remove his mouth from your cunt as the pleasure full waves striked you in full swing but he was too engrossed in it and the tightened his grip around you more. as you came down from your high his arms released you resulting in you falling to his side face first in the bed with your legs twitching like crazy "the best fucking way to wake up, thank you baby" he murmured against your head his morning voice raspy and low but you couldn't register his words too immersed in the aftereffects of the immense orgasm so you just hummed and allowed him wrap his arms around you falling deep into sleep.

i don't go to sleep, i cum too sleep ;)

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cryptidghostgirl · 7 months

Text

Lovely (Lucifer x Reader)

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader

Description: Lucifer had heard rumor of the demon with the ability to alter people's memories. Y/n was a marvel and he had her wrapped right around his pinky.

Warnings: Same angst, new target.

Word Count: 1,631

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N This fic is inspired by Spud Cannon's song Lovely. Also don't mind me and my silly little Latin obsessed brain (Lucifer translates to light bringer and is a combination of the latin verb ferre, to bring, and lux, light. I fuck around with that in this.)

That was what had drawn her to him first: the elegance. Lucifer was a graceful man, a beautiful man, a terribly sad person. In retrospect, that should have been Y/n's sign to take a step back but, it is always so difficult to find the right path in the moment. He had seemed so utterly heartbroken, because, as she now knew, he was so utterly heartbroken, and Y/n had thought: maybe I can help?

Her motivations had just been that at first, helping. It wasn't her fault that he was charming and funny and did things that made her want to be more than friends with him with such alarming regularity that it felt like her life was the worst rollercoaster at an amusement park. The one with eight billion sharp turns and uncomfortable seats that left rider's tailbones bruised. It was almost too much to bear.

Lucifer had heard rumors of the demon who had been gifted with the ability to alter people's memories. It had never been gossip that had interested him much until Lilith had left. Suddenly, his mind had felt like a curse. In the throws of despair, he had looked for her, hunted her down. It hadn't take long, he was Lucifer after all. When he was the one asking the questions, few dared to defy.

The shop was a hole in the wall, drenched in the smell of incense and covered in crystals and other odd objects of curiosity. Lucifer could've sworn he recognized the imp horns on the wall but, ignored it. He was there for a reason and asking questions like that were not the path to his end goal.

The demon herself, the famed mystery, was statuesque. She had sat her table in the back of the shop, draped in jewelry made of bones and gold. She had gifted him the first session free of charge.

In order to keep the pain at bay, Lucifer had been required to come to her shop at least once a month. Y/n was a comfort to him, he associated her with the feeling of relief. The two became fast friends.

"Light bringer." she would beckon him in with a smile, "Still counting those forget-me-nots?"

She spoke to him in Latin, in his first eternal language. She weaved images in the air with the smoke from her fires. She was amazing, a miracle worker. Lucifer was grateful for her, for her skill.

Y/n knew the truth behind it. She tried to ignore it, tried to still her raging heart. She knew it was doomed, had seen with her own eyes the way he was still so in love with someone else. Still, when he had asked her on that first date, a year into them knowing one another, she hadn't been able to bring herself to refuse. He had been so sweet, so earnest, so cheesy. He had asked her to be his and she had told him the truth: she already was.

It was a constant state of denial, one big, overwhelming lie she convinced herself was true. In the beginning, Lucifer had been a doting partner. He surprised her with flowers, he always tried to make her smile. It had all stopped the day she had told him she couldn't use her gift on him anymore.

"Why not?" he has asked, alarmed.

"Because, Ferende Lucem (man bringing light), it's not healthy. I can't make things go away forever, just hide them. You still need to deal with them eventually."

Y/n had thought it was time, had figured that two years of dating and three years of knowing one another would be enough. She had been wrong. Lucifer had ceased in his affections in all but name. No longer was she whisked away to the palace, no longer did she wake to one of his creations on her bedside table.

After about a month, she had decided to take things into her own hands. She refused to recede into the gaps he was creating, refused to just let this all go. Y/n loved him, truly. She wouldn't let the love die without a fight.

The palace guards knew her well, had let her in without question. After some searching, Y/n had found Lucifer locked away in his office. The place smelled of despair. He didn't turn from his empty desk at the sound of the door opening.

"Light Bringer." Y/n hummed softly, rapping a knuckle on the already open door, "Counting your forget-me-not's?"

She hadn't asked him that in years, not since before they had gotten together. He lifted his head from his hands, looking over his shoulder just the slightest bit.

"Malefica (witch)." he replied, his voice low and hollow.

Y/n smiled softly at the pet name and entered the room, letting the door stand open in her wake. She approached him, wrapping her arms around his tired shoulders and pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.

"Please." Lucifer's voice cracked, "Please take them from me. It's too much, they're too heavy."

Y/n didn't reply, simply nestling her chin into his hair.

"Y/n, please."

"You know I can't do that." she sighed, "It's not healthy."

"This is what is not healthy."

Y/n let go of him and turned his chair so they faced one another. She kneeled down on the ground before him, clasping his hands in her own. His eyes were ringed with red. In that moment, they weren't a fallen angel and a demon, they were just two people. Two people in love and two people housing broken hearts they lied to themselves to stitch back together.

"Lucifer." her eyes searched his face.

It was rare she called him by his true name. The gravity of the moment clung to their skin.

"Lucifer, what am I to you?"

He looked away. Y/n sighed, her heart cracking straight down the middle within the confines of her chest.

"Can I..." she cleared her throat, steeling her nerves, "Am I ever going to be what you're looking for?"

Lucifer's eyes snapped back to Y/n.

"You are what I'm looking for." he insisted, taking his trembling hands from hers and cupping them gently around her face, "You, Y/n, are my sweet little magician, my salve."

"My magic is, you mean."

Lucifer had always been a terrible liar. It was one of the things Y/n loved about him, the way the truth bubbled to the surface of his being. Right now, she wished he could be the best liar on the planet, the best in all of Hell. Right now, she wished she could've been born blind.

Y/n got to her feet, Lucifer's hands hanging in the air where they had held her last. There was no more running, no more hiding from the truth. This was the precipice, the breaking point, the fall.

"You're my salve." he repeated again, his voice soft and sounding like he was trying to convince himself of the fact as much as he was trying to get through to her.

"Don't lie to me." Y/n demanded, tears pressing behind her eyes, "Don't. Just... just don't."

Oh how she wished she could turn back time, set the clocks to zero.

"You never loved me, did you?"

The question hung unanswered in the air. Y/n had known it for a long time, had known it since the beginning to be perfectly honest but saying it out loud made it all the more real. She was dazed, spinning, out of control.

"You don't love me."

"I wish I could. I'm..."

Y/n scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest and holding back tears. She looked away.

"I'm sorry."

"I'll see myself out, I guess."

She hoped he'd call out for her, run after her into the hallway, ask if they could try again could start over. Of course Lucifer did no such thing.

For all the things she had helped her clients forget over the years, Y/n understood them even more now than she ever had before. It was complicated. Now she was going to have to reshape her life. If she ever saw him in the street, it would be her duty to pretend she didn't know him. The memories spawned the terror of potential futures, dreams where things worked out, where everything was okay. They sent her mind reeling.

She had known, all along she had feared the worst and feared confirmation of her knowledge. That was the worst part, it hadn't even been a surprise. It had simply been just that, a confirmation of the truth.

The world caved in around her as she walked home, houses and shops and people all blurring together into something undistinguished and undefinable.

Lovely, that's what he was. In all his misfortune, in all his despair, in all his grace. Lovely but oh god, oh god he didn't love her. Not the way she wanted him to. Not the way she loved him.

Y/n pulled the curtains shut to her little shop, moving methodically and without thought. She sat down at the table in the back, before the pot of incense. She lit it.

Not once in all her years had she ever tried to do use her magic on herself. It seemed like a line in the sand, something utterly forbidden. Y/n shut her eyes.

When she reopened them, the world felt different. Time had passed, she could tell it had but her mind refused to give shape to the years.

"So this is what it must feel like." she mumbled aloud, noticing the remnants of her ritual spread out on the table before her, "I wonder what happened."

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gffa · 10 months

Text

It is still absolutely a marvel to me how much BATFAMILY fic I have been reading and enjoying, it's been awhile since I've gone at such a sustained fever pitch so consistently, which is because this fandom keeps putting out fic that makes me fall in love all over again, along with all the comics I've been reading and enjoying. I am so delighted by how I can bounce around various eras or characters (well, let's be fair, I still have a Dick Grayson Problem That I Am Making Your Problem Too) and there's so much to read that I'm having trouble keeping up!

Join me in having the best problem: Too much good fic to read, because I swear that even when I'm crying because fic has punched me in the feelings, I'm still having a great time and it's definitely not a trap to lure you all into crying with me. Well, unless you're into that. And, in that case, READ AND CRY AND/OR MELT INTO GOO WITH ME, BECAUSE FANDOM IS PROVIDING.

BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I'M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ Step One: Learning to Catch by TheBlueMoo, dick & bruce, 2k “Okay, now extend your arms.” It was jarring, Bruce reflected, to be taking instructions from his nine-year-old ward. He was trying to think of it as receiving lessons from an expert gymnast instead, but it wasn’t really helping. or Dick freaks out during training one night, and Bruce isn't entirely sure why ✦ the quiet noise by orphan_account, dick & clark & jim (& bruce), 3.4k When Batman is in surgery after a stab wound to the lung, Commissioner Gordon sits with Robin at the hospital as they wait for someone from the league to arrive. ✦ The art of falling in the rain by Bob_the_bastard, dick & bruce & alfred, 3.4k Ordinarily it wouldn’t have been an issue, ordinarily Bruce would have taken a few steps back, caught his breath and continued on. But that night wasn’t normal. ✦ Our roots will not whither away by KrazySuperGirl, dick & bruce & alfred & cast, 6.4k Bruce and Dick return to Gotham. There are plenty of problems and plenty of good days. ✦ Will Protect You From All Around You by zombiesbecrazy, dick & bruce, 3k Bruce has always expected that one day he'll wake up and feel like a Real Adult, but it hasn't happened yet. Why had he thought that this parenting thing would be easy? ✦ Fly South by SonoSvegliato, dick & bruce & alfred, 1.9k Birds fly south in winter. Robin leaves in the summer. ✦ Vertigo by tinycrown, dick & bruce & ollie & cast, 1.8k After being ambushed by Count Vertigo's men, Batman's partner isn't doing so well. Green Arrow observes. ✦ Friends by mx_chrx99, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.3k The manor loomed large, surrounded by acres of manicured grass and trees bursting with autumnal colors that made Dick feel like he was gazing at a forest on fire. He was distantly aware that the scene in front of him was incredible, something out of a storybook. He should have been amazed and even grateful, but all he could think was, 'Mom would have loved this.' ✦ There For You by Val_Creative, dick & bruce & cast, 2.4k Snapshots of how Robin came to be Batman's trusted partner and how Dick became Bruce's beloved son. /Standalone. No pairings. ✦ tummy troubles by brandywine421, dick & bruce & alfred, 1.5k Bruce sat down on the edge of the bed and warily pulled back the covers. Dick blinked at him with wide, sad blue eyes. "What's wrong?" "Don't feel good," he murmured, scowling when Bruce curled his hand against his cheek. "My stomach hurts." ✦ Stay a Child by ijustwanttodestroy, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.2k “Redo it,” Bruce orders. “Aw, come on!” Dick dares to pout — a thing that he uses often, and would work on anyone but Bruce and Alfred. Sometimes. Bruce gives him a look. “I’m not going to do it for you.” “I’m going to misdo it until you do,” Dick threatens. ✦ Whole, but not hale by Fae_Winter, dick & bruce & alfred & clark, 1.5k Bruce was never listening to Clark again, damnit ✦ Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes by catboysam, dick & bruce, 1k Bruce wishes, as he has wished every minute of every day for nearly 20 years, that things were different for himself. But now he also wishes that for Dick. No child should have to experience what they have. But he really is selfish, it seems, because at the same time, how could he possibly want to give up a single second with this little miracle in his arms? ✦ yet to be friends by rxsecret, dick & bruce & clark & cast, 2.3k It's the annual Wayne Gala, and one of the few reporters allowed at the event just so happened to be from Metropolis. ✦ And I’ll look into your eyes to find out if I’m real by Fleur_de_Violette, bruce & dick, 1.6k Bruce wants a lot of things. A bath. Seeing his family. Not having been missing for a whole year. He wants Dick to wake up and realize he’s not a hallucination.

BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ medicine by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce, ~1k “We have to get out of here,” Dick says, trying and failing to sit up. “Before, before they get back.” “Dick, listen to me. You’re sick,” Bruce says, running a hand through Dick’s hair. “You’re in an isolation unit at the Watchtower’s medical bay.” Dick shakes his head. That can’t be right. “They’re trying to, to poison me.” ✦ Someday All Of This Will Go Away by WanderIntoFics, dick & bruce, alternate version character death, 2.3k Bruce never stopped telling Dick he loved him. It takes a heart-wrenching and terrifying experience with an alternate future Bruce for Dick to realize that maybe he stopped being able to hear it. ✦ vacation town by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce, 1.6k Normally, Dick wouldn't enjoy recovering from a stab wound from a poisoned knife, but he has to admit, it's nice to be home. ✦ all i can by emavee, dick & bruce, 1.7k Whatever they injected Dick with is taking away his senses. Bruce tries to hold on for both of them. ✦ my arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm by emavee, dick & bruce, 5.6k wip Five times Dick held Bruce's hand, and one time Bruce held his. ✦ Moving on by Fleur_de_Violette, dick & bruce & cast, 2.7k When he’d been called to Gotham, Dick had expected to do the job and then get moving to the next thing, and then the next, and then the next. An abrupt meeting with the side of a building interrupts his plans.

BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ Chatterbox by Ptelea, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & donna & roy & cast, 24.7k "Yeah, I'm fine," Dick said. Then he frowned, because he had not just meant to say that. Or: Eight times that spells or serums affected Dick's ability to speak and / or their aftermath. ✦ Misremembered and Misnumbered by miss_aphelion, bruce & dick & jason & clark & diana, 1.9k Dick may not actually be quite as old as he told everyone he was. In his defense, it wasn't so much lying as that he sort of just forgot. ✦ WE'LL LIVE IN SPACES BETWEEN WALLS. by orpheusaki, bruce & dick & jason, time travel, 4.6k (Something is different about Dick. Bruce notices.) ✦ Tonight Will Be a Memory Too by Sohotthateveryonedied, dick & cass & bruce, 1.2k They don’t happen often—once a month or so, with varying degrees of spottiness. Sometimes Dick will walk into a room and forget what he’s there for. He’ll forget the locations of things, like where he left his keys or where the refrigerator is. Once he forgot his own name. Even if the episodes don’t occur often, that doesn’t make them any less terrifying. ✦ Can I Sleep With You? by Lady_of_Lorule, dick & bruce & damian & titans & cast, 2k “Dick? What is it? Are you okay?” he asked. “‘Had a nightmare,” the boy murmured, wiping at his nose quickly, then sending a darting look at Bruce. “Can I...can I sleep with you?” ✦ Broken Silence by Geeves, bruce & dick & cast, 1.3k Bruce reflects on how quiet the manor used to be. It could be painful at times, but it's not like that anymore. ✦ the care and keeping of your baby talon by quandaries_and_contradictions, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & duke & alfred, reverse robins, talon!dick, 6k In which everyone is more than a little cautious about the talon Duke brought home. Featuring chandelier swinging, Secret Garden reading, ill-advised sleuthing, and more. ✦ One, Two, Buckle My Shoe by Anonymous, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & alfred & cast, 11.3k wip Dick was twenty-eight. The boy in the mirror most certainly was not. ✦ Iron Bound by coyote_nebula, bruce & dick & jason, 3.1k Batman never ran out of solutions. He just ran out of ideal solutions. Nightwing finds himself in a tight spot involving a compact car-sized paper roll. ✦ The Mantle by ValleyOfKings, dick & clark & diana & justice league (& bruce) & cast, 2.9k Batman ‘dies’ and Dick must takes his place. He doesn't want the job but he knows that it is what he must do. He must accept the mantle and protect Gotham. The Justice League must also accept their new Batman. It might have helped if they knew that Batman didn't work as alone as they had once thought. ✦ Bravery, and everything that looks like it by Fleur_de_Violette, bruce & dick & steph, 3.4k Bruce had promised Dick a fun and chill weekend. Instead, they find themselves in the middle of a burning chemical facility. When he thinks everyone should have been evacuated, Nightwing finds a scientist trying to secure some sort of container. She’s either very brave, or she has a death wish.

BATFAM FIC RECS - JASON TODD IS AN ASSHOLE CAT, I'M GONNA THROW HIM AT DICK BECAUSE IT'S FUNNY (AND MAYBE SOME OF HIS OTHER SIBLINGS TOO): ✦ Superhero: Dick Grayson by batmoniker, dick & jason & cast, 5.3k In which Dick shows up at the school to pick Jason up after he gets into a fight. ✦ Homecoming by sElkieNight60, dick & jason & bruce, 1.2k Jason's doped up on pain-meds. Dick's holding his hand while he's bedside monitor. Bruce probably wishes he had a camera. ✦ I do not have wings love (I never will) by dizarys, dick & jason & bruce, 2.5k Jason Todd was alive. He was also bleeding out on Dick Grayson’s apartment floor. How 'Under the Red Hood' might have ended if Dick was at Bruce and Jason's final warehouse confrontation.

BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY'RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ cashmere-soft and irresistible by victoria_p (musesfool), cass/steph, ~1k Cass and Steph and dumplings and lipstick. ✦ Picking Up Pieces by Cephalogod, bruce & steph & dick, 4k “Bruce!” Steph called as she approached, weaving between people. His head snapped towards her, and the stark relief in his expression almost stopped her in her tracks. That was just...wrong. Bruce wasn’t supposed to be relieved to see her. He was supposed to be annoyed or resignedly amused, not looking at her like a life raft in the ocean. ✦ Make an Ass of U and Me by Huntress79, Sevidri, bruce/clark & dick, 11.2k Bruce neglects to explain exactly who the attractive young man that seems to know him so well is, and what their relationship entails. Naturally, there are some misunderstandings. ✦ Presque Vu by PechoraFlow, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & alfred & cast, 17.4k wip Bruce gets amnesia and the Batfamily conspires to keep their vigilante side secret from him. They were just trying to keep him home, safe until he recovered. They expected that Bruce would pick up on clues and put together The Batman secret on his own. They didn't expect him to form a different picture entirely. They didn't expect Bruce Wayne would come to hate the Batman.

BATFAM FIC RECS - I CUT MY TEETH ON DICK & TIM AS CLOSE BROTHERS AND NO ONE WILL NOT TAKE IT FROM ME: ✦ spread your wings by wingedgrace, dick & tim, 2.1k “Why did you give Robin to Damian?” Dick pinched his nose. He’d started to pick up some of Batman’s habits, whether he realized it or not. “Tim, we’re not talking about this again. We’re talking about how you’re off on this… quest, to prove that Bruce is still alive. And I just want to talk. Come home.” ✦ Time Loop vs Ethiopia by AJElementus, dick & tim (& bruce & jason), 9.1k In one universe, Jason died while Dick was on a space mission with the Titans. In another? There’s a time loop. In which Jason doesn’t die, Tim joins the family early, and Dick... well... Dick's just trying to figure out what's going on! ✦ so won't you stay, won't you stay (with me?) by dizarys, dick & tim, 1.3k Tim's having a hard night. So where else does he go but to his big brother's apartment? ✦ under the wing by acrobats, dick & tim & cast, 1.4k “Sometimes being a brother is even better than being a superhero.” – Marc Brown

BATFAM FIC RECS - I WILL DIE ON THE HILL THAT TIM DRAKE'S TRUE LOVE INTEREST IS CONNER KENT AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME, NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ buy back the secrets by sundiscus, tim/kon & bruce & clark & jason & cast, 71k wip He takes a long, slow breath. Ignores the glares from the other students. “Superboy,” he murmurs. “It’s me. If you’re listening, I could use some help.” Or: 5 times Superboy saves Tim Drake, and one time Tim Drake saves Superboy. ✦ Can't Shake the Feeling by Hayleythewriter, tim/kon & tim/bernard & cassie & bart & dick & damian & cast, 17k Tim introduces his boyfriend to his friends. Almost everyone likes him. ✦ The Electric Pull of Spring by Merelymine, tim/kon, nsfw, 4.3k "I feel fine," Kon says, breathing deeply. He leans towards Tim and takes an even deeper, longer breath. "I feel really, really good, actually. And you smell—you smell really good." ✦ A No Good Very Bad Day by mademoisellePlume, tim/kon & jason & lois, read the tags, 3.7k You’d think drugging a half-Kryptonian into sleep would be half as easy as taking a full Kryptonian out of commission. But no, life couldn’t be that simple for Jason, could it? He watched Superboy stumble down the hallway in his pyjama pants, eyes half-lidded and sweating like Two-Face when a flipped coin balanced on its edge. ✦ Pandora's Other Box by FridaysChild, tim/kon & dick & bart & kate & ma kent, 2.5k Prompt: "Kon and Tim identify as straight. After realising their mutual attraction, they both freak out in different ways."

BATFAM FIC RECS - I SAY THIS IS A BATFAM REC LIST BUT SOMETIMES YOU JUST GOTTA SHOVE THOSE ASSHOLES OUT OF THE WAY AND READ SOME SUPERFIC: ✦ Adoptions by Kannika, clark & conner & cast, 2.7k Clark prepared for a lot of things, getting closer to Conner. This is not one of them. ✦ Aftershock by sElkieNight60, clark/lois & conner & jon, 13k wip He knows this is awkward for Clark. It’s awkward for them both. They were gonna start slow. Warm up to each other. Maybe go apple-picking in the summer. A movie, a restaurant, bowling, or something. But a sleepover, really? That wasn’t going slow. ✦ IS IT JUST YOU AND ME IN THE WRECKAGE OF THE WORLD? by orpheusaki, clark & conner & bruce & diana & jason & cast, 2.2k "You look happy, Kal." She's right, Clark is overjoyed. In between shopping for children's clothes with Lois (after she'd gotten over the shock of it all, which was surprisingly quick. Clark thinks Lois might prefer Conner to him now, not that he blames her for it) and wandering around the Fortress of Solitude with a small palm tucked into his own, Clark hasn't stopped grinning, "Superman is no longer the only Kryptonian alive." (Clark saves Conner from CADMUS as a child AU.)

BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT'S WHAT I'M HERE FOR: ✦ oh but if I could choose, I would choose not to feel by dizarys, bruce & dick & donna & cast, 1.4k His eyes flicked over the long room, evaluating and searching. When he finally spotted him, Bruce’s heart plummeted. Dick Grayson was slouched at the crumb flecked bar counter, staring blankly into a barely touched pint with a hand twisted in his hair. Misery personified. ✦ batman by hellsreluctantheir, dick & jason & tim & bruce, 57.3k Dick came back from a trip to space to a dead father figure, a grieving, guilty little brother, and a legacy waiting for him. Suddenly he's moving back to Gotham, playing Bat, trying to keep Jason from spiraling, trying to keep himself from spiraling, with the added bonus of a kid stalking him at the grocery store. It takes two years before things start to feel like they're getting better. Which is right about when the Red Hood comes to town. ✦ Day 3 - Nightmares (2.2) by fanfictiongreenirises, bruce & dick & tim, 3.3k Bruce is resigned to the nightmares after their most recent kidnapping. But that doesn't mean they don't have an impact on him. ✦ My Brother's Keeper by Chemical_Processes, dick & damian & tim & cast, 6.2k Tim gets hit with Fear while on a league mission, and it's Damian's job to get him home in one piece. ✦ Pale Reflections by BearlyWriting, bruce & dick & jason & tim & cast, 2.6k ‘Bruce blinks again. A chill breeze brushes against him, searching for a way through his uniform. Concrete, Bruce tells himself, it’s concrete, not sand. It’s water, not blood. It’s Dick. And yet, he’s as still as Jason was then, as lifeless. Bruce moves without thinking. He isn’t thinking. His mind is utterly blank, a void in his head.’ ✦ love brought weight to this heart by dizarys, bruce & dick & john & mary & damian & duke, 1.9k Of course Dick came by every time Haly’s was in town. But he loved when his family was able to join him. And now, with lights illuminating the big top, performers streaming into the ring with flashy costumes, and his family enthralled, Dick felt at peace. Both sides of his life were together. It should’ve been perfect. And looking back, he still wasn’t sure what pushed it off course. But it might have been the fire. ✦ what's in a name by envysparkler, bruce & dick & jason, 4.5k Kidnappers strike at a gala and abduct two of Bruce Wayne’s sons. Or at least that’s what they think. ✦ I’m gambling with the sun (on which one of us dies young) by dizarys, dick & jason & donna & roy & tim & damian & cassandra & cast, 6.9k The Justice League have been wiped from existence by Pariah, leaving Nightwing to once again navigate the death of Batman. But this time, even with his siblings and friends rallying around him, the cracks start to show ✦ (someone told me) love would all save us by YouAreTheBrightest234 (TransLucas), bruce & dick & tim, 1k Dick is floating in an abyss of black. It is not peaceful, yet not malicious. It simply is. ✦ Slipping 998° by CKBookish, bruce & dick & tim & cast, 2.5k When a house fire turns deadly Bruce wonders if he will be too late... again.

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne #clark kent #conner kent #timkon #fic recs #batman fic recs #long post #really long post

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guilty-ff · 2 months

Text

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐏𝐭.2

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ˚⁎⁺˳ .

Previously: After overhearing Wade and Weasel discuss his unresolved feelings for Vanessa, Y/n panicked and fled the bar. Realizing how much his words had hurt her, Wade chased after her. Tragically, just as he was about to reach her, Y/n was struck by a truck, leaving Wade devastated as he watched her die.

This story takes place between the second and third movies (warning: not 100% movie/comic accurate)

Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x (fem!)Reader

Genre: Angst, revenge, Fanfiction, Marvel

Warnings: Movie Spoilers! Explicit content, swearing, torture, mental health, weapons, characters death

Word count: 4168

Wade's entire world had shattered in an instant. He was kneeling on the cold, unforgiving pavement, cradling Y/n's lifeless body in his arms, as if he could will her back to life with sheer desperation alone.

The chaos of the world around him: the blaring sirens, the flashing red and blue lights, the distant murmur of concerned voices- was nothing but a blur. All that mattered was the lifeless weight in his arms, the chill that had already settled into her skin, and the way her once bright eyes were now dull and vacant.

"Please... please, don't do this to me," Wade whispered, his voice breaking as he rocked back and forth, clutching her to his chest. His breath hitched, tears blurring his vision as he buried his face in her hair, inhaling the faint scent of her shampoo, clinging to the last remnants of her presence. "I'm sorry... I'm so fucking sorry...".

But his words were met with only silence. Her chest did not rise or fall. There was no reassuring heartbeat, no sign of the warmth that had once filled her eyes with life and laughter. Wade's hands trembled as he smoothed her hair back, trying to memorize every detail of her face, knowing deep down that this was the last time he would ever see her like this.

The blood that stained the street was still warm, mixed with the tears that dripped from his chin. It clung to his hands, a harsh reminder of his failure. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, each one more painful than the last as he choked on the guilt that consumed him.

"It's my fault," he whispered to her, his voice trembling with the weight of his own self-hatred. "I should have been honest with you... I could have stopped you... Why couldn't I even open my fucking mouth like I always do?".

But there was no answer, only the cold, indifferent night stretching out before him.

He barely registered the approaching footsteps, the shadowed figures of the paramedics moving closer, their expressions grave as they realized there was nothing they could do. They exchanged worried glances, whispering among themselves as they tried to figure out how to handle the situation.

One of them, a woman with a kind face, knelt down beside Wade, her voice soft, careful. "Sir... I'm so sorry, but we need to—"

"Don't fucking touch her!" Wade's voice was a raw snarl as he recoiled from her, his arms tightening around Y/n as if he could somehow shield her from the reality of what had happened.

He looked up at the paramedic, his eyes wild with a mix of grief and rage, daring her to come closer. "She's not gone. She's not gone!"

The woman hesitated, her hand hovering just above his shoulder, unsure whether to comfort him or back away. She could see the pain engrave into every line of his face, the desperation in his voice that tore at her heartstrings. But she knew that they couldn't leave the scene like this. They needed to take Y/b's body, to give her some semblance of peace, even if Wade was not ready to accept it.

"Wade... Man..." A familiar voice cut through the haze of grief, and Wade turned his head to see Weasel standing a few feet away, his face pale and stricken with horror. He looked like he didn't know what to say, his usual sarcasm and wit buried under the crushing weight of the moment. "You've got to let them... Let them take her. You can't... She's gone, Wade. She's really gone."

Wade shook his head violently, the words not even registering as he tightened his grip on Y/n's body, as if the utter force of his denial could somehow change the reality of the situation. "No, she's not. She's just hurt... She's going to wake up... She has to wake up."

Weasel's heart broke at the sight of his friend, the man who had always seemed invincible, reduced to this: a broken, shattered mess of grief and guilt.

He took a tentative step closer, his voice trembling with emotion as he tried to reach Wade. "Wade... please, man... this isn't your fault. You've got to let go... you've got to let her go."

But Wade was not listening. He could not hear anything over the overwhelming guilt that consumed him like a fire. This was his fault. If he had been there, if he had been faster, if he had just done something differently, she wouldn't be lying here, lifeless in his arms.

He barely noticed when Dopinder arrived, the taxi driver's normally cheerful manner completely shattered by the sight before him. He stood frozen, his eyes wide with shock as he took in the scene—the blood, the crumpled form of Y/n, and Wade's unhinged state.

"Weasel... I'm done cleaning the toilets-" Dopinder's voice was a broken attempt at normalcy, his mind clearly struggling to process what he was seeing. But as soon as he fully registered the scene before him, his stomach twisted violently, and he turned away, vomiting uncontrollably onto Weasle's Hawaii shirt. The acidic smell of bile mixed with the metallic tang of blood in the air, creating a nauseating cocktail that clung to the back of everyone's throats.

Weasel barely reacted to the vomit now dripping down his shirt, his focus entirely on Wade. "Damn it, Dopinder," he muttered under his breath, though there was no real anger in his voice- just a deep, extremely tired sadness. He shot Dopinder a look that said it all: *Stay back. Let me handle this.*

The paramedics tried to move closer again, but Wade's grip on Y/n only tightened, his entire body trembling with the effort to hold on. "Get away!" he screamed, his voice breaking, raw with the agony that tore through him.

He reached out blindly, grabbing a jagged piece of metal that had broken off from the truck during the accident. He swung it at the paramedics, his eyes wild, daring them to come any closer. "You're not taking her from me! You hear me?! She's not fucking gone!"

Weasel's heart ached as he watched his friend unravel, knowing that there was nothing he could say or do to pull Wade out of the mess that was consuming him. But he could not let this continue. He could not let Wade destroy himself any further. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward, trying to keep his voice steady, even as his own grief threatened to spill over.

"Wade, listen to me," he said, his voice soft but firm. "You need to let them help. Y/n... she's not in pain anymore. She's... she's at peace. But you... you've got to let them do their job, man. You've got to let her go."

But Wade was not hearing any of it. He was lost in his own mind, the words barely registering as his vision began to blur, the edges of the world around him starting to go dark. His grip on the metal weakened, his hands shaking uncontrollably as his body finally began to give out under the overwhelming weight of his grief.

"I'm sorry... I'm so fucking sorry..." Wade's voice was barely more than a whisper as he slumped forward, the piece of metal slipping from his grasp and clattering to the ground. His vision darkened completely, and the last thing he heard before everything went black was the sound of his own heart shattering into a million pieces.

Wade woke up gasping for air as if he had just surfaced from drowning. His head throbbed with a dull, persistent ache, and his entire body felt like it had been put through a meat grinder. Blinking against the harsh light filtering through the curtains, his heart pounding in his chest as the memories of what had happened crashed over him like a tidal wave.

Y/n. The accident. Her lifeless body in his arms.

The pain hit him like a sledgehammer, knocking the wind out of him as he struggled to sit up, only to find himself sinking back into the cushions of the couch. The familiar scent of cigarette smoke and cocaine clung to the air, and it didn't take him long to realize where he was.

Althea's apartment. Of course. The last refuge of the damned.

He groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead as he tried to make sense of it all. How had he ended up here? What had happened after he had blacked out?

Before he could piece it all together, Althea emerged from the shadows, a cigarette hanging from her lips, her expression as unreadable as ever. She looked at him with a mixture of pity and despair, as if she had seen this exact scenario play out a hundred times before.

"You're awake," she said, her voice flat, detached, as she took a long drag from her cigarette. She exhaled the smoke in a slow, steady stream, watching him through her sunglasses that seemed to see right through him. "About fucking time."

Wade tried to sit up again, his muscles protesting with every movement, but he forced himself to push through the pain. "What the hell happened?" he croaked, his voice rough and rough from disuse. "How did I... how did I get here?"

Althea sighed, rolling her eyes as she stubbed out her cigarette in the overflowing ashtray beside her. "You passed out, Wade," she said, her voice devoid of any real sympathy. "Weasel and Dopinder brought you here. They were in a panic, going on about some accident... and, well, it wasn't hard to put the pieces together."

Wade's stomach churned as the memory of the night came rushing back, hitting him like a punch to the gut. Y/n's lifeless body, the blood, the overwhelming sense of helplessness...

He could feel the bile rising in his throat, but he swallowed it down, his hands balling into fists as he tried to keep himself grounded in the present.

"Where is she?" His voice came out as a strained whisper, almost as if he was afraid of the answer. "Y/n... where did they take her?"

Althea hesitated, her usual stoic behaviour cracking just enough for Wade to see the unease flickering behind her eyes. She looked away, picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of her jacket as if the act could somehow delay her answer.

"They took her to the morgue, Wade," she finally said, her tone softening, almost as if she was trying to ease him into the truth. "She... she was officially declared dead at the scene."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence, and for a moment, Wade felt like the ground had opened up beneath him, threatening to swallow him whole. He couldn't breathe, could not think- his mind was a carousel of images, memories of Y/n flashing before his eyes, all of them met with the sickening realization that she was gone. She was really gone.

"No..." Wade whispered, his voice breaking as the reality of it all came crashing down. "No, this can't be happening. This can't be fucking happening."

Althea did not say anything. There was nothing she could say. She knew better than to offer empty lies, to pretend like there was anything that could make this better. Instead, she just watched as Wade's world crumbled around him, the pain radiating off him in waves so intense it was almost touchable.

Wade's breath came in short, ragged gasps, his chest tightening as a sense of overwhelming panic began to set in. Memories of Y/n flooded his mind: her laugh, the way she used to look at him with that mixture of love and exasperation, the way she made him feel like he was worth something, like he was more than just the sum of his scars and mistakes.

He felt like he was drowning, the air sucked out of his lungs as the world around him started to spin. His vision blurred, the edges of the room closing in as he clutched at his chest, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might explode.

"Wade," Althea said sharply, her voice cutting through the fog of his panic. "Breathe. You need to fucking breathe."

But Wade could not. The memories were too much, the pain too overwhelming. He doubled over, clutching at his head as if he could somehow stop the many images that were tearing him apart from the inside out.

"I can't... I can't do this," Wade gasped, his voice trembling as he fought to hold himself together. "I can't... I can't live without her."

Althea's expression softened, a flicker of something almost resembling compassion crossing her features. She moved closer, reaching out a hand to steady him, but Wade flinched away, his mind too consumed by his own torment to accept any form of comfort.

For a moment, the room was silent, the only sound the ragged rhythm of Wade's breathing as he fought to keep himself from going insane any further. But then, cutting through the stillness like a knife, a sound broke through the chaos- a shrill, insistent ringing that filled the room, that had surrounded them.

Wade's head snapped up, his heart skipping a beat as he registered the sound. It was a phone, the shrilling ringtone of the Star Wars OST echoing through the small apartment, pulling him out of his spiraling thoughts and forcing him back into the present. He fumbled for the device, his hands still shaking as he pulled it from his pocket and glanced at the screen.

The number was unfamiliar, but there was something about the timing, the wrongness of it all, that made his blood run cold. His instincts were screaming at him, telling him that whatever this call was, it was not going to bring good news.

He hesitated for a split second, his thumb hovering over the answer button, but then he forced himself to press it, bringing the phone to his ear. "Hello?" His voice was strained, barely more than a rasp as he forced the word out.

There was a pause on the other end, a crackling that made his heart pound even harder. And then, a voice- a voice that was clipped, professional, but with an edge of something that Wade could not quite place. "Mr. Wilson? This is Officer McCready from the city morgue."

Wade's blood ran cold, his heart dropping into his stomach as he heard the words. The morgue.

Y/n.

The sickening realization of what this call was about hit him like a freight train, but he forced himself to stay on the line, to hear what the officer had to say.

"There's... been an incident," the officer continued, his tone growing more uncertain as if he was not sure how to proceed. "Y/n... her body... it's missing."

Wade's mind went blank, the words not registering at first, as if they were too surreal, too impossible to comprehend. "What... what the fuck are you talking about?" he finally managed to choke out, his voice barely more than a whisper as the world tilted on its axis.

"We... we don't know how it happened," the officer stammered, clearly just as unsettled by the situation as Wade was. "The security footage... it's missing, and there were no signs of a break-in, but... her body's gone. It's not here. We've searched everywhere, but... it's just gone."

Wade's heart hammered in his chest, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of the information. Gone? How could she be gone? He had seen her- he had held her cold, lifeless body in his arms. She was dead. He had seen the blood, felt the absence of her heartbeat.

And yet...

A little of hope, irrational and impossible, started to take root in his mind, fighting against the overwhelming grief that had consumed him. What if she wasn't really gone? What if... what if this was all some mistake? What if...?

But the logical part of his brain, the part that had been forged in pain and loss, pushed back against the hope, crushing it before it could take hold. No. This was not a miracle. This was something else, something dark, twisted.

Someone had taken her. Someone had stolen her body, desecrating the last remnant of her existence. The thought made his stomach turn, his hands clenching into fists as a surge of anger and despair crashed over him.

"What do you mean, she's gone?" Wade growled into the phone, his voice low and dangerous, barely restrained. "How the hell does a body just go missing? What kind of sick joke is this?"

The officer's voice wavered, clearly unnerved by Wade's barely contained fury. "I-I don't know, Mr. Wilson," he stammered. "We're investigating, but... we thought you should know. We're doing everything we can to find her..."

But Wade was not listening anymore. He dropped the phone, his mind reeling as the officer's words echoed in his head. Gone. Her body was gone.

The room started to spin, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps as the walls seemed to close in around him. This was not happening. This could not be happening. Not again. Not to her. He felt like he was on the edge of some abyss, holding on a branch that could snap any moment.

Althea watched him, her expression unreadable, but her eyes were dark with something that looked almost like pity. She had seen this kind of grief before, had witnessed the way it could tear a person apart from the inside out.

"Wade," she said softly, almost cautiously, as if she were approaching a wild animal. "You need to calm down. We'll figure this out. There's got to be an explanation."

But Wade wasn't hearing her. He was already on his feet, his movements uncoordinated as he stumbled toward the door. He had to find her. He had to figure out what the hell was going on. He could not lose her, not like this. Not when he had already failed her once.

"I have to go," Wade muttered, more to himself than to Althea, his voice hollow as he fumbled with the doorknob.

"I have to... I have to find her..."

But as he reached for the door, the weight of everything crashed down on him all at once, and his knees buckled beneath him. He crumpled to the floor, his hands shaking uncontrollably as the panic attack he had been holding in finally overtook him.

Althea was at his side in an instant, her hands hovering uncertainly above him, unsure whether to comfort or restrain. Wade's breath came in short, shallow gasps, his chest heaving as the panic attack consumed him, pulling him under like a riptide.

His vision blurred, black spots dancing at the edges as the room spun around him. He clutched at the floor, his fingers scraping against the worn carpet as if trying to ground himself, but it was no use. The memories, the guilt, the overwhelming sense of loss, it all crashed over him, threatening to drown him.

"Wade, listen to me," Althea said firmly, her voice cutting through his panic. She grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to look at her, to focus on something other than the whirlwind in his mind. "You need to breathe, okay? In and out, slowly. Come on, you've done this before with gun smoke. You can do it again, just not with that type of smoke- Whatever, you know what I mean."

But Wade was barely hearing her. His thoughts were a chaotic mess, spiraling out of control as the reality of what had happened- what was still happening, tore at him from the inside out. Y/n was gone, her body stolen, desecrated, and he had not been able to protect her. He had failed her, just like he had failed everyone he would ever cared about.

Althea shook him, hard, snapping him out of the worst of the spiral. "Wade, snap out of it!" she snapped, her voice sharp and commanding, pulling him back to the present, if only for a moment. "You're no good to anyone like this. You need to pull yourself together."

Wade's breath hitched, and he forced himself to focus on her voice, clinging to it like a lifeline. He sucked in a ragged breath, then another, trying to steady the wild beating of his heart. The room slowly came back into focus, the edges of his vision clearing as the worst of the panic began to go away.

"That's it," Althea murmured, her tone softening as she saw him begin to calm down. "Just breathe. You're okay. You're going to be okay."

How could he be okay when the person who had meant everything to him was gone? How could he ever be okay again?

He let out a shaky breath, his hands still trembling as he slumped back against the wall, his strength completely drained.

"Why?" Wade's voice was a broken whisper, the question hanging in the air between them. He did not know if he was asking her, the universe, or himself. "Why did this happen? Why didn't I say something in the bar?"

Althea did not have an answer. She knew better than to offer false comfort or empty words. Instead, she sat down beside him, her presence a silent reminder that he was not alone, even if it felt like he was.

For a long moment, they just sat there, the only sound the distant hum of the city outside, the world continuing on as if nothing had changed, as if Wade's entire world had not just been ripped apart.

Althea nodded, her expression unreadable as she studied him. "I know," she said quietly, her tone carrying a weight of understanding. "But you can't do this alone. You're not in any shape to be running off half-cocked, looking for answers. You need help."

Wade wanted to argue, wanted to tell her that he didn't need anyone, that he could do this on his own. But the truth was, he was barely holding it together. He was a mess, his mind a mixed tangle of grief, guilt, and anger, and he knew that if he tried to do this alone, it would destroy him.

"I don't know what to do," he admitted, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. It felt like defeat, like admitting weakness, but he was too exhausted, too broken to care. "I don't even know where to start."

Althea considered him for a moment, then reached for her phone, flipping through her contacts. "We'll figure it out," she said firmly, her tone allowing no argument. "I'll make some calls. We'll get Weasel and Dopinder back here. They'll help. We'll all figure this out together."

Wade closed his eyes, letting her words wash over him. It was not much, but it was something, a little of hope, a thread holding him together. He nodded slowly, too tired to protest, too worn down by grief and guilt to argue.

As Althea made her calls, Wade leaned his head back against the wall, staring blankly at the ceiling. The pain was still there, a deep, ache in his chest that refused to let go.

He was going to find her. He was going to get her back, no matter what it took. And whoever was responsible for this, whoever had taken her from him- they were going to pay.

Wade did not know how he was going to do it, or what he would find when he did. But he knew one thing for certain: this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

The phone in Althea's hand buzzed again, another call coming through, and she glanced at the screen before holding it out to Wade. "It's Weasel," she said, her voice steady. "He's on his way."

Wade took the phone, his grip tightening as he steeled himself for what was to come. "We're going to find her," he said, more to himself than to Althea. "We're going to find her, and we're going to make this right."

Althea did not respond, but the look in her eyes said enough. She believed him, or at least she was willing to help him see this through, no matter how dark the road ahead might be.

As the minutes ticked by, Wade let the resolve settle into his bones, his mind slowly beginning to clear as he prepared himself for what was to come. He did not know where this path would lead, or if he would ever truly find peace. But he knew one thing with absolute certainty:

He was not going to stop until he had answers. Until he had her back.

And if he had to tear the world apart to do it, so be it.

#self written #deadpool x reader #deadpool 3 #deadpool 2 #deadpool #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson #writing #marvel angst #marvel fanfiction #marvel #x men #fanfic #fiction #fypシ #fypシ゚viral #fyppage #angst #x reader

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seattlesellie · 1 year

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color me ♡

pairing: ellie williams x reader

warnings: pure smut, rough sex, breeding strap, fake cum swallowing, ass play, maybe a lil gross but 🤍

authors note: so i dont know whats actually inside those breeding straps and if its not actually safe to digest… sorry! obvs based on an old one of mine n @elskittie important server discussions <3

"El Ellie, Ellie — Ah!" was the only repeating sentence that left you whiney mouth for the past seven minutes. Ellie was quick with it, brutal, even. The sharp pain of her strap's ongoing strokes and thrusts rendering you borderline unconscious. You liked being like this, didn't you? her personal rag doll, being thrown around for her pleasure.

She wasn't afraid of telling you how much you liked it, either. Ellie loved basking in your neediness for her, in how dumb you looked when she fucked you senseless. Each resounding slap against your flesh, and every firm tug of her fist on your hair served as a vivid affirmation of her power over you. "You fucking like that? huh?" she gasped in amidst the rhythmic thrusts. You could feel her in your tummy, feel her stinging inside of your brain. "Like being like this f'me? yeah?" she was panting like an animal, you could feel how close she was by the way she was swallowing her words. Her voice was hoarse, and she struggled to maintain her composure, almost falling apart right there with you. Slap! you were on all fours now, face shoved in the soft, cream colored pillow, ass shamelessly spread completely open. You felt vulnerable, like she could see everything. Ellie wasn't always like this, see, she loved taking her time. Caressing you, giving you tiny pecks everywhere around your body, like little butterflies landing on your skin. Today wasn't like this. “Get on the bed" she commanded after getting back from a three day hunt. You knew it by the flare in her eyes, by the way she couldn't look at you directly. Whatever happened there was between her and herself only. Oh, how Ellie loved how you looked. "Pretty asshole too, huh?" She panted, her thumb gently tracing circles around the perimeter of your clenched entrance. "So fucking—" she growled, and stuck her thumb inside, leaving a stinging pain ringing inside of your body. Twisting it in slow circles, it's deliberate, controlled movements akin to a meticulously driven screw, twisting slowly, intensifying the sensation with each revolution. "So fucking tight everywhere" she marveled. You couldn't even respond, drool cascaded onto the rumpled sheets beneath you. You were whimpering, screaming, god, she had effortlessly coaxed three mind-shattering orgasms from your trembling form. You could have passed out already, you could have been laying on her chest, listening to her soft breathing by now. But this truly, wasn't about you. With a forceful strike, she gave your ass another harsh slap. It morphed into a deep shade akin to a bruised blue. "Pretty" she panted. You were mumbling incoherently, a mixture of "thank you Ellie" and "for you, Ellie". You wanted to ask her — "You really think I'm pretty?" "Am I yours forever? You making me yours?" but goddamn, you were too fucked out to function. She slipped her other thumb inside your tightest hole, as if her other one wasn't enough. The overwhelming sensation caused your vision to blur with celestial bursts, your voice erupting in a symphony of screams and desperate pleas that reached the heavens themselves. "Ellieeeee — too tight!" you babbled. She plunged it deeper with a cocky grin. That action drove you to instinctively fight against her grip, your hands frantically clawing at the fabric of the sheets, seeking a desperate anchor to reality. She formed a tight fist around your hair, yanked it, and pulled you by gripping her fingers tight on your ass. Don't you dare.

"Don't you fucking run away from me" she grunted, and kept her grip on your waist.

"Stay" she commanded, and you did. Her desperate grunts and the fact that she reached that little spot, that spot no one else ever did, made your stomach tie in tight knots. You were fucking close, too. And she knew it. Who knows you better than her? "Gonna let me fucking use you" she growled, "Gonna let me fucking cum inside of you?” she told, her breath hot and unsteady against your neck. And then, it was as if a cartoonish light bulb appeared over your head. You smiled dumbly to yourself. You really are fucking nasty. "In my mouth" you hiccuped. Her hand left your plump ass, and started forming small, harsh circles on your clit. She was flabbergasted, her strokes slowing down. "In your what?" she questioned, her voice deep. "Want you to cum on my face" you stated. Simple as that. Ellie laughed, she laughed at you. "You're fucking nasty, you know that? she teased, the faint sensation of her smile pressed against your shoulder conveyed the delight she derived from your desires. Those words could have made her come on the spot. "Get on your knees" she commanded, and pulled the plastic cock out of you with a deep, breathy grunt. You clenched, feeling utterly empty without her deep inside. You pouted with a small "mhm". Ellie gave you a stern look. It was so, so clear how hard she was controlling herself, her own clit throbbing and begging for release. "You wanted this" she said, and squeezed your plump cheeks together. She almost forced you to open your mouth, stick your tongue out in order to directly spin on you, but you wanted something much, much more disgusting. It was an ego trip for her, truly. She yanked you down, and got you to get on your knees with a loud thump. That was going to leave a bruise. Oh, how you weren't expecting Ellie's next step. She grabbed the large silicone shaft in her hands, an pinched your chin, to get you to look at her. Ellie had her eyes fixated on you, entranced. You looked pathetic, sticky drool on your chin, thighs covered in your own release. Her look was piercing through you. She caressed your cheek delicately, calloused hand grazing your skin. She was going to burn this moment in her memory. If she could, she would have taken a picture — but this was still an apocalypse, and she got ever so lucky from just finding the obscene sexy toy during one of her patrols. She took the base of the cock, and began grinding in on her own clit. If she was going to cum on your face, it had to be the real fucking deal. "Ohhh god — shit" She moaned deeply, never once leaving your eyes. You felt your own clit throbbing, a swarm of butterflies buzzing in your stomach. You trailed your hand down and began forming slow circles on your clit, still wet, still deliciously creamy. She bit her lower lip. She would have scolded you for your desperate actions, how dare you touch yourself when she's right there — but thankfully, she knew you just couldn't help it. Breathy, high pitched moans were escaping her mouth, she really was fucking close, rubbing it all over her wet cunt. "Don't you fucking look away from me" she commanded, swallowing her own words. “Don't you dare." The shaft's movements on her cunt were deeper now, faster, the base hitting her puffy button just right, pressing on it. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure, almost fucking there. "Gonna cum" she panted. "Stick that fucking tongue out - Fuck — stick it out" her eyebrows were squinted together, jeez, how you loved her fuck-face. She was full on whimpering your name, hand wrapped around your scalp. She shook the strap up and down on her glistening slit.

It was a marvelous look, my god.

She could feel the white colored pleasure taking over, and almost instinctively, as if it was truly connected to her, grabbed the balls of the strap, squeezed them hard, and as she rode her orgasm - the white, thick, creamy liquid squeezed out of the tip of her cock, splashing all over your warm, eager tongue, and then all over your face. "Holy— fucking— shit" she moaned, riding it out, marveling in how much of a fucking whore you looked like, covered in cream. She was delirious, almost, because she swore it felt like it came out of her own cunt.

Unsurprisingly, who would have thought, you came all over your fingers. Ellie laughed, again, astonished, panting and grunting obscenities.

"You fucking — " she gulped, and rubbed the liquid all over your tongue with her fingers. tracing it up down, swirling it all over your mouth. "Swallow it" she commanded, hypnotized by your pathetic look.

"Cumslut" she whispered in disbelief.

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #wlw #ellie tlou #ellie williams x female reader

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midnightanxietytm · 4 months

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Don't think about the dream! (NSFW)

A/n: this one is for @melle-d, so not my lamb, I had a lot of fun with this one, didn't even review it, just wrote. Also, can anyone send me a dollar for totally not related reasons? BRL don't really cover it.../j

Summary: But, since turning immortal, since getting their marvelous ring, Ewen, now known as just The Lamb, has looked forward to death, if only because they wish to see their beloved. Three nights ago though, things changed.

MINORS DNI - nsfw under cut

The Lamb is dreading their death.

Weird thing to feel, most people dread their death all their lives, it shouldn't be a new thing at all for them. But, since turning immortal, since getting their marvelous ring, Ewen, now known as just The Lamb, has looked forward to death, if only because they wish to see their beloved.

Three nights ago though, things changed and they had an… Interesting dream, one that involved their legs spread open and their god pounding them ruthlessly, and they’ve been thinking about it ever since, which was the root of their problem. If they died and ended up in his realm, Narinder would surely read their mind and see everything. Sure, it could be an opportunity to tease a bit, nothing they hadn’t done before, but that dream had been especially intimate and it had evoked a more visceral reaction than even their actual experiences.

Now, standing on the doorway to Anura, all ready for a crusade, for the first time, they hesitate.

They step in anyways, promising themselves that this time it would be a no-death run.

It was not a no-death run.

There wasn’t much time to think about sex dreams when you’re getting swarmed by fireballs and jumped on by giant frogs, but as soon as they appeared on the summoning circle in front of their god and looked up at Narinder, the dream flashed tough their mind all over, a shiver going up their spine.

They don’t remember how it started, but they do remember the heated kisses, his clawed hands ripping their clothes, as Narinder revealed his own eldritch form; arms and abdomen pure bone, so much taller than them, pushing them into the ground and willing the crown into a barbed-

That all crossed the Lamb’s head before they had the sense to stop it. Oh sacred death they shouldn’t have thought about the dream.

There’s half a second of regret before Narinder speaks, his tone amused; “It matters not how many times you are struck down, as I’ve told you, but are you really that eager to see me, little vessel?”

Something about the way his voice rang through the infinite space brought another shiver to them and all they could think was; Don’t think about the dream, over and over, so no answer left their mouth as they looked to the side with an awkward chuckle.

Which seemed to be a mistake, because then came Narinder’s voice again; “What dream, Lamb?” Another shiver,now as they feel their god prod shamelessly into their mind, like cold tentacles prodding into their thoughts and- Oh lord, wrong train of thought! “It’s pointless to try and hide your mind from me, vessel, I own all of you, every thought of yours should be devoted to me.”

“Oh, believe me, my lord, they are.” They say, but almost regret as their tone gives away all the sinful things running through their mind. Narinder seems to find the memory of their dream just then, and Ewen catches a brief second of surprise in his features.

But then he laughs “Oh poor little vessel.” He says. “You wouldn’t be able to take me on this form.” He leans down and uses a giant hand to pull them closer. “Little Lamb, your desire is also devotion that fuels me, even if I can't personally satisfy them…”

The Lamb’s breath hitches at the implications. “I haven’t… I wouldn't dare disrespect your image, my lord.” They say, looking up through their lashes with big doe eyes and raising a hand to the bell on their neck. It was a pretended innocence, they both knew. The lamb had been not-so-subtly provoking Narinder since they first met.

“Lamb, you are my vessel, you belong to me, every act of yours, every desire, is devotion to me.” The Lamb exhales shakily, the ring around their neck almost burns. “Go on, show me how devoted you are.”

Ewen raises their other hand and undoes the clasp of their fleece, letting it fall to their feet, then they move to remove their bell, but Narinder stops them. “Leave the bell, little lamb.” They do, and start to unbutton their clothes, all while looking up at their god. His hand was still resting on the ground behind them, and they lay down, leaning against it.

Narinder’s eyes are fixated on them as they spread open their legs, already painfully horny. They started to run their hands over their body, as they had done dozens of times before, but now, with their god watching them so intently, it felt so much better.

They don’t waste too much time, soon they’ve shoved two fingers inside themselves and moved them with reckless abandon, breathing shakily and letting out an occasional small bleat of pleasure. Narinder doesn’t say anything, but he watches them with a grin; three red eyes focused on them.

They decide then that if their god wanted to see their dream, they could show how it went, at least partially.

The crown, eager for sin, moves and transforms mid-air, assuming the phallic shape, with the barbs, just like they had imagined. Lamb slides further down, spreading their legs and raising their hips for their god's better view, and the crown shoves itself into them without hesitation.

And the god watches; the Lamb’s pathetic bleats and moans fill the silence of death's realm with pleasure, with the hot dripping feeling that is desire. The crown moves slowly at first, but it only takes Narinder a bit of will to order it to move faster.

The little Lamb rolls their eyes, calls his given name in between a moan and with a dumb satisfied smile on their face. Narinder can feel their devotion, their obsession, dripping like the wetness between their legs. “My lord!” They plead, eyes barely focusing on him. “I'm yours all yours!” They say it like a mantra, a prayer to belong to him and him only.

They say Death is merciless, but Narinder feels quite merciful as he moves his hand to better support his darling vessel before willing the crown to go faster.

Ewen's mind feels melted; their god, Narinder, was looking at them with the repressed hunger only an immortal could have, the crown inside them was hitting all the right places, and their climax approached fast, so fast, almost there.

They cum with a desperate bleat, the crown finally slows down. Narinder takes in the sight of their perfect vessel lost in bliss; in another time, he would have adorned the little lamb in jewels and have them sit on the arm of his throne during every banquet, then take them to his chambers and fuck him over and over just to see them so beautifully blissed out.

But his chained form doesn’t allow him such things, so instead he allows the crown to return to the Lamb’s head — clean and back to its regular shape — and nudges the lamb to stand on their shaky legs.

“Return to your duties, little vessel, but remember I'm always watching you.”

The Lamb gets dressed, still a bit shaky, and is sent back to the cult, knowing that their god would have much to watch during the next few nights.

A/n: A little messy, but I had fun trying to write another Lamb, hope i did it justice.

Where are aym and baal during this scene? Out on a walk or smt idk. Whats the Lamb's genitalia like? Bruh whatever is convenient idc im not good at describing those things lol

#midnight writes #cult of the lamb #narilamb #cotl lamb #cotl narinder #fanfic writing #asks open #taking requests #cw smut #minors dni #narilamb smut #yipee

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muddyorbsblr · 11 months

Text

remote consults behind enemy lines [kinktober 2023: formal wear…and role play(?)]

See the full Kinktober 2023 Collection here! 'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: 2020, during the filming of Loki Season 1

Summary: You casually reveal that you consulted on costume design for another supersuit, leading to an unexpected reaction from your boyfriend

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, don't u dare even try me); kinda public sex; unprotected p in v; role play; clothed sex; language [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: established relationship; Reader's wearing a dress; Tom's wearing Loki's coronation armor; mango namedrop (i couldn't resist 🤣)

This was absolute torture in the most devilishly delicious way. Sitting in front of the monitor and watching your boyfriend acting out a scene wherein Loki was about to step in to the role of Crown Prince of Asgard because Thor had "gone missing" due to one of the god's shenanigans turning his brother into a literal frog, wearing the very costume that had the internet running amok with how it made certain parts of him so prominently shaped that Marvel's considerably lower budget back then had to make room for extra editing to keep the final cut family friendly.

You never thought the day would come that you would see him in that costume just mere feet away from you. And to have him take on that majestic stance with his feet shoulder width apart and arms outstretched as he basked in the applause and praise that the people of Asgard were showering him with?

"Fucking end me," you muttered as soon as Kate yelled for them to cut the cameras.

"Okay now I get why they needed the extra CGI budget for that bulge fucking Christ on a crutch," Bryan commented, lightly nudging at your shoulder to snap you out and stop you from shamelessly staring. "Why madam, should I go get you a paper towel or something for that bit of drool at the corner of your mouth?"

"Better get one for yourself as well, Bry. Now stop ogling my boyfriend before I get tempted to check if those prop daggers have any stab in them."

He gave you a playful scandalized look before walking away, making a big show of wiping his sleeve at the corner of his mouth to get a laugh out of you.

You turned back to face the monitor, only to have your face inches away from the 'fabled mango' that had a rather large corner of the internet in absolute shambles whenever a picture would be released that had it in plain view. Your eyes traveled upwards until they met with Tom's ocean blue ones, your boyfriend greeting you with a wide smile and a wicked gleam in his eyes that he was barely trying to keep contained.

"I suggest you take a step back unless you're fully prepared to give all our colleagues a show," you warned him, starting to mirror the expression on his face.

"But this is such an enticing view, sweetheart, why would I want to give it up?" he shot back, fingertips lightly tracing along your jawline. "And I highly doubt that you're fully prepared to give our colleagues a show."

You only responded to him by slowly running your tongue across the top row of your teeth. "Are you sure about that, sweetie?" That made him take a step back, causing you to break out into a wide grin and scrunching your nose at him. "So how's the costume feel?" you asked him while you two walked toward his trailer.

"Surprised it still fits, if I'm being honest," he answered you with a slight laugh. "Actually it might…fit a little better than it did a decade ago."

"Ooh, good you're still here." You both gave Kate a small wave as she jogged up to you. "I was about to tell you to make your way to Costuming to see if you needed any adjustments. Looks like you read my mind." She gave a quick look at your now joint hands, Tom hooking his finger around one of yours. "Y/N, I'm sure you can handle any adjustments he'll need so you two can go and work on that while we're setting up for the shot with the prop frog. And in case you two wanna say hi, Chris will be here today to record his lines as Frog Thor."

As if on cue, you heard a booming voice from several yards away. "Hi, Brother! Hi, tiny terror! Am I gonna be an uncle yet??"

"Not yet, Chris!" you both hollered back at him, making the Australian wave his hand in a jokingly dismissive manner at you before stepping in to the ADR area.

"There is something new about this costume now that I quite like," Tom spoke up again when you were just outside his trailer. "When I first had it, the inner layer under the metalwork used to be just one piece, like a bodysuit. Made it a whole affair just to go to the bathroom. Now it's a shirt and trousers setup and has a suspender mechanism worked into the metal to secure the bottom half in place. Made my day much easier."

"Well you're very welcome, sweetie," you responded absentmindedly, closing the trailer door.

"This was your work, goddess?"

"Uhm...yeah. I did some remote consultation last year for another superhero costume. The actor's main concern was how he'd pee while wearing the thing, so I drew up some sketches, made his suit a bit modular. But it was gonna be a conflict of interest if they got me for costume design considering my involvement with Marvel, so we minimized my work to justify not including my name in the credits."

You let out a tiny yelp feeling him walk behind you, arms wrapping around your waist as his nose traced a line from your collarbone to your ear. "Hmm…conflict of interest? So DC, then?" he rasped, nipping at your earlobe.

"Uh huh," you answered him breathlessly, leaning in to his embrace. "What I learned making the sketches for the Batsuit, I adapted into the adjustments for your costumes."

Something in the air shifted once the words left your mouth. His hold on you shifted into what almost felt…possessive. "Precious little mortal." The growl in his voice had you growing weaker in his arms. "Consulting behind enemy lines. For the man that I knew for a fact once held your attention so…fervently."

"Why sweetie, are you--Are you jealous? It was a college crush, and a light one at that." You turned in his arms to pull him into a quick kiss that quickly became heated, his hands moving to the backs of your thighs to lift you off your feet and press you against the wall of his trailer's tight entryway.

"It should matter not, so long as you remember that you are mine," he murmured against your lips, securing your body against the wall before moving to undo the suspenders under the metal armor by his hips. "Do you know what I particularly enjoy about your modifications, sweet Y/N?"

You shook your head at him, feeling your arousal pooling between your legs as he smirked at you, hearing the snap of the suspenders from underneath the armor coming off.

"Ease of access," he said simply, shuffling his pants down his thighs and freeing his quickly hardening length. His smirk widened into a devilish grin when he slipped his hand between your legs to find nearly drenched panties. "So gloriously eager…" he teased, moving the fabric to the side.

A high-pitched moan slipped from your lips when he eased his way into you, inch by torturous inch, in shallow thrusts. "Tom, sweetie I--"

"Thomas isn't here right now, pet."

Oh God. Oh fuck. "Loki?!"

"Such a clever little mortal," he grunted, starting to move in shallow thrusts, the tip of his cock easily brushing against a spot deep inside you that had you seeing stars especially from this angle. "Tell me you're mine." He let out a staggered breath, groaning into the crook of your neck as your warmth surrounded him. "T-Tell me who this gloriously tight p-perfect little quim belongs to."

"Y-You--oh f-fuck!" you told him shakily. "I belong to you. I'm yours, I'm all yours."

Obscene moans bounced off the walls of his trailer as he bit and sucked at your neck, working his hand between your bodies to rub tight circles on your clit. "Louder, darling. Say my name. Scream it. Let everyone who dares listen know that only I may claim you like this."

Your body started to shake with how hard your climax hit you, your walls fluttering and clenching around him while you let out a guttural scream of "LOKI!" that might've scratched your throat halfway raw. Before you could say it again, he slanted his mouth over yours, muffling both your screams in a heated kiss that felt rife with desperation as you felt his release starting to fill you, his hips jerking in a staggered rhythm.

It barely crossed your mind that this might get you into a heaping pile of trouble. That you might have just put your job at stake for a quickie with your boyfriend. He broke the kiss with a slight gasp, kissing a path from your cheek down to your neck while you both took deep breaths coming down from your high.

When you heard his breaths grow softer you wrapped your arms around his shoulder and upper back, lightly stroking his hair before you tried to talk, the intensity of the last few minutes still having you struggling to form any coherent words. "Tom?"

You felt a slight wave of relief when he answered you softly. "Yes, goddess?"

"Look at me, sweetie." You pressed a soft kiss to his temple before he pulled away from your neck, nearly blacked out eyes meeting your own. "I love you. Only you." Your hands went to frame his face, thumbs tracing along the lines of his cheekbones. "I don't think I'll ever…No one else could ever--"

Before you could say anything else, he leaned in to cut you off with a kiss, the rest of the words you struggled to say dying off with a whimper at the back of your throat. You still couldn't find it in you to say them anyway. You're it for me. You're the last man I'm gonna love. There won't be an 'after you'.

"You know that, right?" you murmured against his lips, settling for those words instead.

"I do." He quickly stole another kiss from you before continuing, "Some days it just gets to me. The thought that someday someone might--"

"That will never happen." You crossed your hands behind his neck, pulling him close enough that he could rest his forehead on yours. "Sorry to be the bearer of bad news but you're kinda stuck with me, sweetie."

"I may want to get that in writing one of these days," he shot back, his hands lightly grasping your sides before he pressed your bodies even closer together, if such a feat were even possible. "And if anything, you're stuck with me. There's no version of my future that I could ever see that doesn't have you with me."

He started to move inside you again, leaving you no choice but to process his words later, his hips moving in long, slow thrusts that had you feeling every devastating inch of him. "Again?" you whimpered breathlessly.

"You should know me well enough by now, goddess," he whispered, a devilish smile gracing his features and searing an image so erotically charged into your memory. "Once is never enough."

That was the day you agreed that quickies would never be an option again moving forward.

A/N: Another Kinktober 2023 story in the bag! Wait hold on…if I knocked out two prompts in this (kinda sorta), does this mean I only have 2 more to go before I get my initial goal or are y'all gonna absolutely snipe me ded if I pull that technicality? 🤣

I know I said 'bath/shower' with Magnus was next but I parallel-wrote that with this and this one got the banging out first while the other still has me blocked because smut is just…it's not my strong suit okay--it takes me 5-7 business days to get it done 🥴 Currently parallel writing that and the Conrad piece for 'slow & soft' and the President Loki piece for 'fingering' all at the same time so only time will tell which one of them will go up next 🫡

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

kinktober 2023 taglist: @azula-karai-27

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston imagine #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #muddyorbs writes

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nicoline1998enilocin · 7 months

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Birthday Confession

PAIRING | Bucky Barnes x Best Friend!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 2.4K

SUMMARY | Bucky never really cared for his birthday, but he suddenly had a different outlook since you came into his life. As long as he can spend it with you—the sweet, soft-spoken neighbor he secretly harbors a major crush on— and his cat, Alpine, he's happy. However, when everything takes a turn this year, you're both turning it into a birthday he'll never forget.

RATING | Mature (M)

WARNINGS/TAGS | Friends to lovers trope, use of Y/N, alcohol consumption, Natasha and Tony are alive, mutual pining.

A/N | This story is written in honor of Bucky Barnes' birthday, which is the perfect opportunity for me to get into the swing of writing for him again! It's written for Bucky's Birthday Bash—hosted by @buckybarnesevents—and includes the prompts Post Endgame Bucky, Friends to Lovers, Reader, and Dancing. The story is not proofread, any and all mistakes are my own.

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | Header: Yours truly

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky never particularly cared for his birthday, but that changed when he met you—the sweet, soft-spoken neighbor who moved in next to his apartment almost five years ago. He used to be a recluse, preferring the company of Alpine, his cat, but something about you made him want to open up and let you into his life.

Now that you had melted his heart and broken down the walls he had built, he found himself looking forward to seeing you. He even dared to say he looks forward to celebrating his birthday because he knows that you will make him the type of cupcake he loves.

It's just after dinner, and he finds himself on his couch, Alpine purring on his lap as he pets her and tells her about his evening plans.

"I'm going to the club later, can you believe it? I never would have even considered it a few years ago, but when Y/N asked me, I didn't even think twice about it," he says with a small smile, shaking his head gently at the thought of you asking him to the club a few weeks ago. He could not say no to you, especially with his major crush on you.

Alpine meows when she hears your name because when you and Bucky got to know each other, you have also fallen in love with her. She's the reason you two even met. The day you first moved in, Bucky went to check his mail on a beautiful summer evening, and Alpine escaped before he could stop her.

She wandered carelessly into your apartment with a loud meow, pulling your attention away from the box you were unpacking. A white, fluffy cat with the brightest blue eyes you have ever seen stood in front of you, and right behind her was the most beautiful, albeit broody-looking man you've ever seen.

"Alpine! What do you think you're doing wandering into this lady's apartment?!" he told the cat, and you couldn't help but chuckle as she meowed loudly when he picked her up.

"I'm sorry," he said, and you smiled warmly at him. Deep inside, you were enjoying the stark difference between the dark-haired, broad-shouldered man and the beautiful white cat in his arms, but they seemed to fit together perfectly as if they were made for one another.

"It's okay; I like cats, especially when they bring along men like you!" you said confidently, and Bucky couldn't help but blush deeply after your comment. Before you could introduce yourself, he turned around and quickly returned to his apartment; the mail he was supposed to pick up had been long forgotten. From that moment on, you were the topic of most thoughts.

Over time, Bucky has slowly accepted you into his life, and being with you has brightened some of the darkest moments of his life. After Steve returned to be with Peggy, Bucky struggled a lot. From horrible nightmares to sleepless nights, he has been through everything. But you always seem to bring a bit of lightness wherever you go, including in Bucky's life.

Nowadays, he is generally a lot happier, but it's even more noticeable when you're in his presence; he carries himself with more confidence. Instead of hiding away all the time, he doesn't mind being seen when you're by his side. You gave him back the self-confidence he'd lost all those years ago, and he will always be thankful for that.

Before he can think about all that too hard, though, he hears a knock on the door and tucks Alpine under his arm before he opens it. He can see you standing there through the peephole and quickly swings open the door to let you in.

You're standing in front of him in a tight, knee-length dress, black heels, and lipstick that perfectly matches the color of your dress. The rest of your makeup is light, and your hair is pulled into a bun with braids to complete your outfit. His gaze lowers to the cupcake in your hand, a candle burning.

"Happy birthday, Bucky! Make a wish!" you tell him in a cheerful voice. With a smirk, he leans down to blow out the candle on the cupcake you're holding, though he already knows what he'll wish for. Each year, he wishes for the same thing: that you become his. This year may be the year for it to come true.

"I got you something special for your birthday this year. It's not every day you turn 107 years old, after all," you tell him, and he can't help but laugh. The fact that he's this old has never bothered you, and he's thankful for that.

The first time you ran into him on his birthday and asked how he was, he couldn't help but tell you it was his birthday. He still remembers how your eyes widened at his words and how you showed up later that afternoon with a book you had recently read.

Your shared love for reading is one of many things you two have in common, so you have developed the tradition of buying books for special occasions. The moment he tore the paper away from the first book you ever gifted him, he knew he would love it no matter what because it came from you.

You found an extra special one this year, though, and you've been dying to see his reaction since you acquired it. It is wrapped in shiny, black wrapping paper with a gold ribbon.

With quick movements, he unwraps his present, and an almost pristine first edition of The Hobbit is lying in his hands. It is the same book he read when it first came out and one he never thought he would see again.

"Why don't you open it up?" you urge him, and he does. Inside are the words he never thought he would see again, and he can't help but get choked up at the sight of them.

'Happy Birthday, jerk' is scribbled at the front of the book, and Bucky knows instantly that it's the version Steve has worked hard to buy him. Tears gather in his eyes as his fingers glide over the words, and he feels deeply thankful for this present.

"W-where—How-?" is all he can manage to choke out before you step forward and wrap your arms around him. He melts into your touch as your cheek is pressed against his chest, and soft kisses are placed on your head as his way of saying thank you.

The two of you stay like that for a few minutes until you feel Alpine's soft fur against your bare legs, making you chuckle before releasing him and bending down to give her some love. Not long after, it's finally time to go to the club where you are supposed to meet the other Avengers, and Bucky calls the two of you a cab to take you there, saving you two the hassle of NYC parking.

"Are you ready to go in, Doll?" Bucky asks after helping you out of the cab and paying the driver. You nod as you go into the club, which is still relatively empty. It's still early in the night as you go and find a booth, and the rest of the Avengers will join later. As you slide into it, you look around to observe the room, but your eye eventually falls on Bucky standing at the bar.

He looks back at you with a wink as he orders your drinks, even though he can't get drunk. Despite that, he still enjoys the taste of it, so he usually orders a beer or two. It doesn't take long for him to join you in your booth, sliding in so he's sitting right next to you, and your thighs are almost touching.

"Thank you for inviting me, Doll. These evenings are a lot more bearable now that you're with me," he says, and you give him a smile before taking a sip of your drink.

"I'm glad to hear that because I know they're a lot more bearable for me when you're here," you say, and he blushes under the scruff lining his cheeks. The pink tint has the butterflies in your stomach going wild, but most of the other Avengers are arriving before you can say anything else.

Tony arrives at your table first, closely followed by Natasha, Wanda, Sam, and Clint. The two of you slide out of the booth to greet everyone, and the three men go to sit on one side while you, Natasha, and Wanda sit on the other side. Luckily, you're still seated across from Bucky during all this.

The conversation during the night's first half is light and pleasant, but the more drinks flowing, the looser everyone becomes. Combined with the number of people slowly filling the club, the atmosphere is starting to get much more enjoyable. You're just about to take a sip of your third drink of the evening when Natasha and Wanda practically pull you out of the booth, begging you to dance with them.

"Okay, okay! I'm coming!" you tell them with a broad smile that doesn't go unnoticed by Bucky. Seeing you getting along so well with his friends fills him with happiness, and no one can wipe off the smile adorning his face. He also knows that if Steve were here with all of you, he would have loved you, too.

The entire time you're on the dancefloor, Bucky's eyes are glued to you. From the way your hips move effortlessly to the excitement on your face, and from the way the sweat drips down your neck and into the valley of your breasts to the way your dress seems to ride up just enough to show a bit more skin, he notices it all.

"Why don't you go over there and dance with her? It's almost creepy when you're staring at her, man!" Sam says with a push against his metal arm.

"I'm pretty sure she's doing just fine with Nat and Wanda over there," he says, looking at Sam grumpily. However, you seem to have gotten the same idea as you return to the booth.

"Dance with me, Bucky! C'mon!" you say, and of course, the man cannot say no to you. Bucky shoots Sam a dirty look before turning to you, sliding out of the booth, and taking your hand. The music has a nice thumping bass, and Bucky allows himself to get lost in it and in the moves your body makes.

While you were dancing side by side at first, it eventually migrated to the point where you're grinding against him, his bulge pressing against your ass while his fingers are digging into your hips. The tension between you two has been building for a long time, and relieving some of it right now feels good.

After dancing like this for a while, you turn to face Bucky, and he can see the way you're enjoying yourself. From the flush on your cheeks to the smile adorning your face, you're looking perfect, and Bucky has to stop himself from kissing you right now. It's not that he doesn't want to do it, but if he goes down that path with you, he wants to do it right.

"Shall we go outside for a moment?" you ask him, and he nods. You lead him out, the cool air feeling pleasant against your skin.

"Are you enjoying yourself tonight, Doll?" he asks you, though he already knows the answer. Clearly, you're enjoying yourself, but he still wants to hear you say it.

"I am, but there's a reason I asked you out here. Away from everyone else's ears," you tell him, his curiosity piqued. He raises a brow as he looks at you, your lip pulled between your teeth as you muster up the courage to finally tell him what's on your mind. You've gotten this far, so now you have to pull through.

"The past few years with you have been amazing, Bucky, but I have noticed that something... changed," you say after a short moment. As soon as those words leave your mouth, Bucky's brows furrow, but you're quick to ease the thoughts in his head.

"I mean to say I'm in love with you, Bucky. I'm not sure when or how it happened, but it has. I understand if you don't feel the same about me, but I've been thinking about this for almost a year now-" is all you get to say before he pulls you against his chest as he dips down to capture your lips with his.

It's a soft, sweet kiss that has you melting into his touch, and neither of you wants it to end. When the need for air eventually takes over your brain, you hesitantly pull away, though your foreheads are still connected as you gaze into Bucky's bright blue eyes.

"I'm in love with you too, Doll, but I have another confession. I don't know how to be in a relationship," he says softly, and you smile at his confession.

"Good, that makes two of us. But if you want to, I want to figure it out together. Something about being with you feels right, and I want to explore it with you if you're open to it," you say, and he nods.

"I'd love nothing more, Doll," he says before he leans down and kisses you again, your head tilting slightly to the side as he does. All four other Avengers are whooping in excitement as the two of you kiss, but you don't care. All you can think about is Bucky and how his lips feel on yours.

"Finally, it took you guys long enough!" Tony says before everyone congratulates the two of you. Before you go back inside, Bucky grabs his phone from his pocket, and when he notices the time, he can't help but smile.

"Y'know what, Doll, out of all the 3 AM talks we've shared over the years, this is my favorite," he says as he shows you the time. You have stayed up with him during his nightmares or sleepless nights countless times, but you cannot agree more. This one is definitely your favorite.

"Happy birthday, Bucky," you tell him before pulling him in for a last kiss. Afterward, you go back inside, and all of you dance until the sun rises again, and it's time to go home. Bucky may have celebrated many birthdays in his life, but not a single one will ever top this one. There's no greater gift than hearing you confess your love for him, after all.

#BBEbuckybdaybash2024 #BaBB2023 #anyfandomaubingo #anyfandomfluffbingo #fandombingo #marvelsmashbingo #sebastianstanbingo #bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff

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love-anddeepression · 1 year

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Father Mine- 3

ok so this is where canon goes out the window, ive made my own universe, this might be blasphemy against marvel comics but i dont know. Honestly i made this up as i kept going and i like how this chapter ended<3 tell me how you like it! if you want a spoiler go to the tags and see what i've tagged :) part 1

You must have passed out because you wake up in someone’s living room.

“Anyone home?” You dare to call out. The apartment is sort of open-plan and if you had the energy to turn around and move you would have been able to see the man in the white suit staring at you.

“Yep. Hello!” The man walks up to you and you flinch at his strong southern london accent and glaring white suit that makes him look like a psycho Colonel Sanders, “I hope you’re alright, Khonshu said you were from another dimension?”

You reluctantly reply, “That’s right? And by Khonshu do you mean the actual Egyptian God?”

He nods excitedly, “Yea! Right twit he is!”

You look at him worriedly, maybe he is psycho colonel sanders after all.

He looks at himself in the mirror and does a double take, “Oh bollocks! No wonder you look scared!” The suit disappears to reveal a man with wild curls in an oversize t-shirt and pajamas, “sorry, sometimes I forget I still have it on.” He smiles nervously, “Um I’m Steven. With a V.”

That causes you to smile a little, maybe he’s not so bad, “Hello Steven.” You wave from your position on the couch and tell him your name.

Behind him you see a bony pigeon looking skeleton appear and your eyes widen, “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!” You point at it and scream.

Steven turns around, “That’s Khonshu, you can see him?”

“NO SHIT!” You web a wall and pull yourself up to stick to it, glaring at the offending creature.

“That’s mental.” He exclaims.

“What universe is this?” You ask him, eyes narrowed underneath your mask.

“Well, there’s no particular name for it.” Steven begins, but Khonshu intervenes, “How is it that you were able to traverse through the inter dimensional planes?”

“I knew someone who could.”

Suddenly Stevens demeanour changes and your spider sense tingles, you ready your webs against the potential threat.

The voice that comes out of Stevens mouth is not his. It’s the sound of the man who threw you here.

“Kid?” He says when you freeze and take your mask off, looking at him with wide eyes.

“You’re-You’re not Steven.” Your voice breaks at the familiar lilt.

He shakes his head, “My name is Marc.”

———————————-

“Miguel! Stop it!” Jess finally snaps and the man looks up at her.

She takes a hold of his hair and uses it to maneuver his face to look at him, “You either go and get her back, or you fucking move on. Because in this state there is no way you will be able to do anything. Get your shit together. ”

He gulps, not used to seeing her angry side often and nods.

“She thinks I’m a monster.” He looks down at his toes and breathes shakily.

“Then prove to her that you’re not. You’re her father, regardless of what she says, she still loves you. You need to apologize to her.” She looks at him pointedly and he sighs.

"What do you want me to say, 'Hey honey, I know what I did was wrong, I was wrong to chase a teenager and I was too blinded by my fear of losing my daughter again that I chased you away. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.' Thats not going to be good enough."

"It's a start."

"Jessica." he looks up

"What?"

"I should have told you, something about her."

"What?"

"She's not a normal variant, even if her universe was destroyed. That fact alone makes her a special case. There's a reason I sent her to Earth 19999. Her atoms and dna will not glitch there. And I don't know why."

"Why didn't you send her there before?"

"It was too dangerous."

"As opposed to Earth 1999999?" Jess raises an eyebrow.

"Very similar universes, but everything is flipped."

The woman tilts her head, "What do you mean?"

————-

You sip on the hot tea Steven had made for you, glaring at the bony god sitting opposite you.

“I cannot send you back, child.” He says and you roll your eyes,

“As if I didn’t know that. The tea’s lovely, thank you.” You smile at Steven who beams at you. He’s much nicer than the American man living inside him. The one who was Miguel in this universe.

“Marc?”

He nods, “I happen to know of someone who can help you.”

You tilt your head, “Go on.”

He went to explain how he was on call as an Avenger, who were considered the world’s mightiest heroes, and how he was acquainted with someone known as Dr Strange.

As soon as he says, the name Strange, your mind considers the possibility that you might be in the universe of idiots, as Miguel calls it. Earth-1999999.

He’s spent whole hours explaining the entire storyline that honestly came out of a movie to you and while it was such, really Captain America you ditched your best friend to go be with someone who had already moved on? You were drawn to the universe.

It reminded you very much of your home universe that was destroyed.

When you’d nodded and said you’d be on your way he’d blocked you from leaving. Saying it was too dangerous and that you were being an irresponsible person.

You tried to reason with him but he was able to block your punches with efficiency, and he reached for your web slingers. The ones Miguel had given you.

That was currently why there was a purple bruise on Stevens’s cheek that you felt bad about. This sweet man didn’t deserve to suffer the consequences of a hard punch. So you had helped him around the kitchen and he made you tea as a way of saying thank you.

“If you can’t take me away, you can atleast lead me to Strange, considering your own Knight isn’t letting me leave.”

“For good reason.”

“But it doesn’t make sense, without the watch I would be glitching every three seconds because the universe would not accept my genes. Here I haven’t glitched a single time.”

The god tilts his head and seems to contemplate your words, mimicking the man who looks at you with his head tilted, “Most interesting.”

Whatever you were going to say died on your tongue as orange sparks began to appear out of thin air, forming a circle and then a portal out of which a man with a weird beard walks through. He nods at Steven and walks over to you, “So you’re the one huh?”

“No, your mom is.” You snarl, “Yes. Doctor Strange, I’ve heard of you.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, “Am I a common topic of conversation in the multiverse?”

“When we have to make fun of something yes.” You grin.

He rolls his eyes, “How did you arrive here?”

“Look I'd leave if I could, sir. But my device was taken away by the jerk who sent me here.”

His eyes narrow, “Sent you?”

Shit, you might have said the wrong thing.

------------------

"So you're not from here." The sorcerer supreme raises his eyebrow at you.

"No, sir." you're shocked at your politeness, but the man demands respect.

"And you cannot go back?"

"No."

"There is only one person now, who is capable of autonomous multiverse travel, America Chavez. And even her powers are not perfect. It is too risky to do this."

"What would you have me do then?" you ask.

"Wait here, there must be a reason you are not glitching. Maybe, you were meant to be sent here." Strange reasons.

His words make sense, honestly, maybe this universe would be your new home. Even back in Nueva York, you had to wear the watch at all times, or you'd be glitching.

But did Miguel know that? Because if he didn't know, then that would mean he'd sent you to your death.

You just nod at what Strange says, his words going in one year and out the other. You miss the way his eyes glint and flash. His shadow moving under him.

"She can stay with us at the tower." Steven puts his hand on your shoulder, looking directly at Strange, no smile on his face. After a few moments, the Doctor nods.

Your spider sense starts to tingle, and you glace at Steven, who only smiles at you. All teeth. Eyes that are blank. Devoid of emotion.

Now that you're here to stay, he looks like he's never been happier.

"You're going to enjoy yourself here, love." he pats your shoulder, "We'll all have a bit of fun."

You need to run.

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #marc spector #atsv miguel #father mine #mini miguel<33 #mandela catalogue #atsv

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little-diable · 1 year

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Sunshine - Tommy Shelby (smut)

I don't know where this idea came from, but I'm in love with how this turned out, ngl. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader and Tommy cross paths at war, he's hurt, and she's right there to help him. An inextricable bond begins to form, forcing them to stick together even as the war ends.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, mentions wounds and blood, friends to lovers

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (about 3k words)

header by @deathofpeaceofmind

“You have to hold still, otherwise I won’t be able to clean your wound.” (Y/n) scolded him, bloody hands working on his side, carefully cleaning the bleeding wound. The soldier had his lips pressed into a thin line, eyes staring at the ceiling of the medical tent, trying to stop himself from moving around.

Even though (y/n) tried her best to concentrate on his wound, she couldn’t help but look at him every now and then. He was awfully handsome, the blue eyes of his made him stand out amongst an endless seeming crowd of soldiers, unable to blend in with pupils that reflected so much and yet told so little, like waves rolling ashore, telling tales of people and places one would never stumble upon. She had seen him around every few days, though (y/n) had never dared to speak up, holding back from stealing any of his precious time, aware of the work he did in the dark.

“Hold onto my arm.” (Y/n) whispered her words, forcing him to look at her with his eyebrows furrowed. “This will sting, I rather have you holding onto me than you flinching away from the needle.”

“I’ll behave, promise.” Even though he kept his voice emotionless, the soldier couldn’t stop his lips from taking on a soft smile. For a few seconds they held eye contact, trying to figure out what else they could say, wondering who’d give in first. But before another reply could roll off (y/n)’s tongue, his hand began to move, calloused fingertips stroking her arm. Goosebumps began to cover her skin, rising on her arms like hail falling from the sky, covering the ground.

“I’ll be quick, promise, soldier.” A soft chuckle left the man who wasn’t known as a gleeful soul amongst his fellow soldiers, and yet it seemed like she was the sunshine following a week full of rain and dark clouds, the one to pull him out of his misery.

……

“Cigarette?” She held it out for him, watching him reach for it, carefully, calculated almost. With his eyes fluttering close he deeply inhaled, allowing her to marvel at him as he freed the blue smoke from his nostrils. “How’s your side?”

“Better than ever, sunshine.” The nickname left her tensing, filled with a biting heat she wasn’t able to swallow. Ever since the day he had stumbled into the medical tent, begging her to take care of his bleeding wound, he had started calling her sunshine, the rays of heat that seemed to brighten his days whenever he crossed paths with (y/n).

“Don’t lie to me, Tommy, you know I can see right through it.” It was true, he couldn’t tell how and why, but she seemed to be the only one who could see through the cold facade he had built around him, trying to keep to himself. He was plagued by nightmares, struggling to keep on breathing when the nights grew as dark as the underground tunnels he was moving through whenever he had to. And yet everything seemed to fade away whenever she appeared.

“No lies, it’s the truth. Tell me, what will you do once this nightmare is over? Return to your family, your husband, eh?” He took another drag before he stretched his hand out, allowing her to take the cigarette back. (Y/n) pondered over his words for a few seconds, unable to reply as her mouth grew dry and her jaw muscles started tensing.

“No family, no husband, it’s just me.” Her eyes found her hands, watching her fingers fumble with the dress she had to wear, the dirty white fabric that desperately needed a good wash. Two of his fingers found her chin, tilting her head upwards once again, blue eyes finding hers like a bullet perfectly piercing through its target.

“If we survive this, I’ll take you home with me, you won’t be alone again, I promise.”

……

It is true what they say, war changes people, those that once entered the fight with brave hearts and proud smiles, ready to fight for their country, returned with broken hearts and chapped lips, no longer ready to put the horror they’ve lived through into words. It hadn’t been any different for Tommy Shelby nor his family members, those that woke with muddy cheeks every single day, and those that waited at home, patiently watching the days turn into weeks.

But even though the Tommy Shelby who returned back home could no longer wear the same smile he had once mastered perfectly, he hadn’t been able to allow darkness to consume every single fibre of his body, all thanks to her, his sunshine, his (y/n).

Ever since that day in the medical tent, (y/n) had found herself dreaming of his lips, of his hands, of the way he could touch her, mere dreams that never turned real. Tommy treated her like he’d treat his wife, and yet he never crossed that one last, invisible line keeping their friendship from turning into a romantic relationship. He kept his distance, a distance she oh so desperately wanted to minimise, and yet couldn’t.

“(Y/n)?” Tommy’s voice echoed through his office, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, piercing eyes focused on the letter he was holding in his hands. His ears listened to the sound of approaching steps, while his eyes didn’t meet hers once, too focused on the words he kept rereading.

“Tell me, what do you think of Winston Churchill?” Only as (y/n) came to a halt next to him, taking the letter from his hands did Tommy dare to look at her. He leaned back, watching her read the lines, carefully as if her and his life depended on it. She was too focused on the letter to notice the glint of his piercing eyes, the way he admired her like he was admiring the most expensive piece of an art gallery, an invaluable treasure.

“Deals with politicians, are you sure of it, Tommy? They don’t speak the same language we do.” A raspy chuckle left Tommy as he lit his cigarette, hand finding her wrist to pull her into his lap. (Y/n) couldn’t stop her gasp from rumbling through her, not used to being touched like this. Their eyes didn’t break contact, clinging to one another as if they were scared that they’d lose one another in an ever growing crowd.

“The only thing I need from him is to understand the fucking words I’m speaking, should be plenty enough, don’t you think, sunshine?” It had been years since he had first used the nickname, but (y/n) was still not used to it, unable to stop her teeth from leaving marks on her lower lip as she averted her gaze, watching his fingers fumble with the cigarette he was smoking.

“Promise you’ll shoot first if you get into any trouble, I can’t have you die on me any time soon.” She whispered her words, smiling as he pressed his forehead against her temple. For a few seconds Tommy allowed the two to relish in one another’s company, clinging to the calm silence that wrapped them in a warm embrace.

“Be careful, one may think you actually enjoy having me around, sunshine.”

……

No sounds filled the night as (y/n) found herself staring at the ceiling of her room, clinging onto the blanket keeping her warm. It had been minutes since Polly had entered the house, guided towards Tommy’s office, finding shelter in the room (y/n) had been in numerous times before.

For the past minutes she had wondered what Tommy and Polly were speaking about – deals, money, guns? Whatever it was, (y/n) couldn’t help but fear for Tommy’s life, the one that had taken her in, returning home with her clinging to his side. He had taught her everything he could share, every insight into the business he kept building, he shared it all with her, trusting her more than his family members.

Her naked feet met the ground as she rose from her bed, arms wrapped around herself. She was careful not to make any noises, not wanting to gain Polly's or Tommy’s attention, too curious for her own good. Slowly (y/n) came to a halt in front of the office, holding her breath as she tried to listen to the conversation.

“Be careful, before you ruin this for yourself, Tommy. You need a woman, a wife, not a shadow like her. I can see it in her eyes, the girl loves you, let her go before you drag her down with you.” Hurt filled (y/n)’s veins, heart clenching in her chest. She had always known that Tommy would eventually have to marry, and yet, deep down she had hoped that one day he’d choose her.

“I rather live with her by my side, than not have her around at all. I won’t let her go.” A sharp breath was inhaled into (y/n)’s lungs, unable to bite down her smile. God, she’d walk to the end of this very world for Tommy, would dig graves six feet down with her own bare hands if he’d ask her to. He was her end and her beginning, the rising and setting of the ever moving moon.

“My god, Thomas. If you love her this much, do something about it, for all our sakes.” The sound of shoes meeting the ground forced (y/n) away from the door, hurrying back to her room before they could notice her. Her heart was pounding, shooting heat through her veins, for the first time since crossing paths with Tommy, she had heard him putting the way he felt towards her into words, forcing a new wave of hope through her system.

(Y/n) gave it a few minutes before she left the room again, making her way back down the hallway, eyes set on the now open door.

“It's not good for you to stay up this late, one day you’ll work yourself to death.” Her tired voice filled his office, naked feet patting against the ground. With a tired sigh spilling from his lips, Tommy turned towards (y/n), drinking in the sight of her sleeping gown. Her warm hands found his glasses, carefully setting them down on his desk before she placed herself on his thighs, a bold movement that left the man smiling, hand finding the small of her back almost instinctively. (Y/n) found herself urged on by her newfound hope, by the confidence now swimming in her blood.

“What are you doing awake this late?” Neither of them dared to move, enjoying their touches, the warmth that radiated off one another. Tommy’s thumb stroked the soft fabric of her gown, setting her skin on fire with every movement.

“I couldn’t sleep, I knew I’d find you still awake.” His chuckles left her heart skipping beats, urging her on to do what she had been dreaming of doing ever since she had met him in that tent. (Y/n) gave it a few more seconds, struggling to give herself the final push before she oh so slowly crossed the distance between them, lips ghosting over his. Tommy pulled her even closer, hands holding onto her waist, not daring to let her go as they deepened the kiss.

His tongue moved along her lower lip, begging for entrance, not ready to break the kiss just yet. (Y/n) wrapped her arms around his neck, trembling on his thighs as an unfamiliar wave of heat flushed through her, shooting right down her spine. Soft moans left the two, wordlessly communicating what they wanted to do, what they wanted to feel, and how they needed to be touched.

“Tell me, sunshine,” his raspy voice left her gasping, swollen lips aching to feel his again. “How much of the conversation with Polly did you hear?”

(Y/n) didn’t dare ask him how he knew that she had been eavesdropping, burying her face in the crook of his neck as another laugh left Tommy, big hand moving up and down her spine.

“Enough to tell you that I love you.” The second he picked up on her whispers, Tommy’s hand stopped moving, letting the words sink in. Silence engulfed the two for a few moments, a silence so loud, (y/n) found herself lifting her head, wondering if his words had another meaning, if he didn't feel the same kind of love.

“That day in the tent, I was convinced that I’d die. I spoke to a god I no longer look up to, but then you appeared, like a godsent gift. You saved me in more ways than you could think. Ever since that day I knew that I loved you, a love so pure it felt too good to be true, my sunshine, my (y/n).” Once again did (y/n) close the distance between them, kissing him as a fire began to simmer deep inside of her, eyes falling shut.

Without another warning, Tommy rose to his feet, with (y/n) clinging to him. She was placed down on his desk, allowing him to stand between her thighs, hands disappearing beneath the soft fabric of her gown. (Y/n) found herself trembling against him, allowing Tommy to push the fabric up to her hips, exposing her naked heat.

“Will you let me? I want to feel you, want to touch you like I should have already touched you all these months ago.” She could only nod, mouth too dry to reply. Carefully he brushed his fingers through her slit, collecting drops of her arousal he used to circle her bundle of nerves, leaving her moaning. (Y/n) had to hold onto his holster, scared that she’d fall back, unable to stop her body from giving into the pull of lust taking over her system.

Tommy’s piercing eyes kept flickering between her lust drunken features and her heat, hoping that he could etch the sight into his mind. She was beautiful, too pure for him, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from blemishing her, from leaving his claim on the woman he intended to keep around till he’d bid this life goodbye.

“Tommy,” she choked on his name as he pushed two fingers into her tightness, curling them against her swollen spot as his thumb kept circling her pulsing clit. “I want your cock, please, fuck me. Been dreaming of this for too long.”

“I will, and I promise I’ll fuck you properly in my bed later, but for now this will have to do.” Her hazy mind couldn't spare his words any attention, but the promise of being touched by him again and again left her panting, eyes threatening to fall close. She watched him undo his trousers, freeing his hardening cock with skilled movements. He pumped himself a few times before he aligned himself with her tightness.

One of her hands found his, interlacing their fingers before he pushed into her. Both needed a few moments to adjust to the sensation, inhaling heavy breaths. He started with slow thrusts, enjoying the new sensation both had been dreaming of for months, restless days where they couldn’t help but cling to their need for one another.

“God, Tommy, I love you, don’t ever let me go.” (Y/n)‘s whines urged him on to kiss her, soothing the uneasiness filling her veins. He was right there, couldn’t and wouldn’t let her go, even if he had to.

“I once promised to take care of you, I never break my promises, sunshine.” Tommy began to pick up the speed of his thrusts, letting go of her hand to find his way back to her pulsing bundle, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Both couldn’t help but thank their lucky stars, fate was finally on their side, allowing them to form a bond that reached deeper than those of soulmates made for one another. They were more, so much more.

“Feels so good, Tommy, so so good.” A newfound sense of pride filled his veins, spurring him on to make her cum right there and then. Her moans guided him on, begging Tommy to never stop fucking her, to leave his marks on her body for curious eyes to see.

She was his, as much as he was hers. The sunlight to his ever growing darkness. The fleeting darkness to her ever growing sunshine. The light to defeat the dark.

“Such a pretty sight for me, can feel you so close, let go for me.” His raspy voice rang in her ears like a siren going off, warning her of her inevitable fall. A fall that wouldn’t end with a harsh crash, caught by the loving arms she could call her home and shelter from now on.

Tommy watched her come undone, eyes squeezed shut, head rolling back. Her walls clenched his cock, begging him to follow her down the edge with moans rippling through her. Tommy needed a few more thrusts before he could give in, pulling out of her to release himself on her lower stomach.

“Never stop touching me, Tommy.” Her whispers left him chuckling, forehead pressed against hers as his hand found her neck, a possessive grip that left her walls clenching once again.

“I promise, sunshine, I promise.”

#Tommy Shelby smut #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine

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letshavedeernnertogether · 7 months

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We'll meet again

the plot is: (Y/n) summoms a demon, Alastor, to save herself from awful men and they make a deal. We'll see what comes next in subsequent chapters :>

I used she/her because it seems to me that the heroine has her own character and I thought it won't be right if I write you/your and than the heroine will make something out of your, reader, character, but I still used Y/n because I wanted to make you feel closer to this story and Alastor

english is not my mother-tounge, so I'm very-very sorry about the mistakes I must have made :'<

Part one, the summoning

Away! Farther from this place, as far as possible! It was just incredible to stay here for any longer. Although she couldn't leave this place she still could disappear for some time.

(Y/n) was running through the forest. Cold october wind rustled in her ears and scratched her cheeks, stained with tears. She breathed hard, suffocating with sob and run, but didn't want to stop to recover her wind.

She turned from the path and ran deep into the woods. She could barely see, where she was running, blinded by tears. The mist embraced her shoulders and waist, as if it asked her for a dance. Trees were bare and grey, the grass scratched her ankles. She often stumbled over the roots and stones, almost fell several times, but didn't stopped.

(Y/n) thought how marvelously would it be, if the Death would find her there right now. If she fell and bled until William, riding on the horseback, would find her, to took her to the cold and dirty marriage bed.

She was running until she ran out into a forest border, circled by high pines. There she fell exhausted.

She hated her existence that moment. She wanted to disappear. How awfully, how disgustingly, how abominably she felt! That dirty pig who dared to call himself their family's friend and who almost...

She wanted to kill him, she almost did it, when he grabbed her roughly and tried to press her lips against his. Only a memory made her shudder in disgust. But fortunately, a maid entered the room that moment, and (Y/n) ran away taking an occasion.

Now she cried her heart out.

If only she had the power... The power to take revenge. To do anything. To be anything.

She read about such power. In the books that (Y/n) called classics just because they were old, and that her mother called worthless, as they "don't teach how to live". (Y/n) always replied that these books taught her how to feel.

These books brought her up, even if their authors lived centuries ago. They told her about love, only one immortal love, and what a person could lose to get it.

The influence of these books was stronger due to the fact, that the house, where she lived, was located in the middle of nowhere, and throughout her life she communicated only with her parents, their few friends and servants.

Shaking with sobbing, she was lying on the ground. She knew that everything she read was just a fiction. There never existed any fausts, nor mephistos, nor witches nor evil forces. But she wished it weren't so.

So maybe she could try..?

She remembered a book, she found in the attick. Black leather binding, old yellow pages, blackletter.

"Circle, animals' bones and special words," she muttered.

After a while everything was done. All she had to do is to cast a spell.

Alasor was in his radio studio and he was going to start a brodcast. He made himself a cup of coffee, tuned the radio in and only just sat in his chair when something started to happen.

Everything around him flicked and rattled; the air was filled with red and black shadows.

"What is it?" he said.

Invisible force seized him and he felt the smell of rotten leaves.

Not even three seconds had passed, when the radio studio was empty.

Alastor found himself sitting on the ground in the middle of circle somewhere in a forest border. He saw a beautiful and frightened young woman in front of him. The hem of her long light dress was stained with mud. Hair was messy and her eyes were red of tears. She looked at him with her eyes wide opened, stilly moving her lips.

A human.

Alastor understood that he was still sitting on the ground and quickly stood up.

He noticed how small was this woman. He was tall enough even among the demons; and now standing opposite her he realized how small people were.

"Oh, god," she said and covered her mouth with her palm, "I can't believe. Am I insane?"

The man dusted his suit.

"If you summon a demon and then calling the god for help, then..." he almost closed his index finger and thumb, "maybe slightly mad?"

His voice sounded like coming out of a radio. His wide smile full of sharp yellow teeth gave (Y/n) the shivers. She was amazed at how classically devilish he looked. Could it be because of the colour of his clothes? He had a red pinstriped suit, a red shirt with two intersecting stripes forming something like a cross on his chest, a bowtie, black trousers and shoes with red toes. In his hand he held a strange cane that looked more like a microphone. His eyes were red, and she felt how hypnotical was his gaze. His hair was also red but with black tips. On the top of his head she saw ears and small antlers. "A deer demon?" she thought.

"Well," he said, "are you still going to remain silent and stare at me?"

He throwned but was still smiling.

"Sorry, it's just not every day you summon a demon haha" she began to stroke her hair.

"So is it your first time, hmm?"

She looked at him with her cheeks red, "Summoning? Yeah, exactly..."

(Y/n) thought that his voice was anodyne despite who he was. She couldn't deny that she found him all attractive.

"Well, dear," said the man, "tell the truth it's my first time either! Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure!" His speech became faster and he held out his hand (Y/n).

He was still in the circle and (Y/n) was out. She tipped her head and asked, "You can't cross this circle, can you?"

He was still holding his hand out her.

"I'm quite sure that you can," he said, gazing at her with a sharp smile.

"But I'm not actually sure if it's safe for me," (Y/n) replied.

He tilted his head sharply, and she heard something like a radio was crackling.

"What a bold girl," he thought.

He smiled wider and put his hands behind his back.

"Ha! Very well, dear! Now if you don't mind, explain me, why have you summoned me?"

Her face became severe; in her eyes he saw something very similar to the thirst for a revenge.

"I want the power."

He looked up at her.

"A demon like you can give me the power, right?" She looked at him with hope.

"What kind of power do you mean, darling?"

She hardly breathed, gazing at him.

"I want to be the one who can't be harmed or even touched by men. I want them to regret they meeting me."

He was surprised indeed, "Why such a unique request?"

She hugged herself by her shoulders, "Just make it," she said.

Alastor noticed how subdued and frightened she was.

Some people say if a person seeks for a devil's help this person is weak, desperate and lost their heart. But in actual fact, not every person dares to do it. Only a fearless, confident in their strength and knowledge and slightly mad, will make a deal. Of course, a lot is contingent. Nobody will ever say that Ambrosio was a strong and brave man. But the inner strength and spirit of Faust, his desire for knowledge and willingness to do anything to achieve his dream, can be envied by many. And Alastor was pretty sure about the strength of this girl. He was actually interested in her soul.

"Let's make a deal," he said holding his hand out again.

(Y/n) looked up at him. She was thinking. What would happen if she did it? Would she end up in hell? But wasn't her own existence hell already? But it was worth it, right? To sell her soul to save her body. Madness, some would say. Maybe she wasn't actually sane that moment, but she did want to revenge.

She came closer and erased a line between her and Alastor. She took his hand and a green light filled the forest. (Y/n) saw how his antlers grew much bigger, the smile stretched from ear to ear, his eyes glowed. She felt like something had changed inside of her.

And then silence.

"Well, dear, here is the contract. You must sign it." He gave her a parchment covered with dark red ink.

She took the paper and read it.

No matter how hard she tried to find something ambiguous in the document, she couldn't. "I guess a demon gets your soul not with a trap in papers but with the formulation of your wish," (Y/n) thought.

And as the formulation of her own wish in papers seemed strange, she asked the demon, "I don't remember that I said something about the demons," she wanted to show Alastor the strange line in the contact, but he was already behind her shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

She responded with all-knowing tone, "I said, that I don't wanna be able to be harmed by any man, but you wrote here, that I don't wanna be harmed by any demons too."

"Why not, dear?" Alastor looked in her face. (Y/n) could see her reflection in his crimson eyes.

"My dear, I don't fill in the contact, you do." He drew himself up to his full height, "My job is to fulfil your wish in any way, that I think fit. You're the only one who formulates your desire, which is written here in the form you thought about it. So I believe it was you, and you only, who thought that you should be protected by demons too."

All of this he said smiling, accompanying his speech with graceful gestures.

"Evidently, you faced the demon," he put his hand on his chest, "me, and decided to save yourself from such a dangerous fellow." Alastor laughed and she couldn't hide her smile. His laugh was very infectious.

"Honestly, I find you better that most men I know," and before Alastor could realized what she said, (Y/n) asked, "But what about this part?"

(Y/n) pointed at red letters, where was said that neither men nor demons couldn't even touch her, unless she allow them to do it herself, with all her heart, completely trusting them.

"I'm sure, I couldn't think it. This point makes me defenceless. Also, I don't allow those I even trust to touch me. I don't like touch." She was serious as a heart attack.

Alastor leaned over her again to read red cursive. She mentioned that he smelled like fur and wood, and she also noticed a slight smell of coffee. "Can't believe a demon smells so nice," she thought.

"My dear, I must confess that I maybe thought this when we shook hands. Incredibly, how different the contracts between demons are from the contracts between a human and a demon!"

She frowned in cofusioun.

"I mean, my dear," he continued, "it would be quite difficult for you to never be interacted with anyone, there should be at least several men that you trust, aren't there?"

"No."

"Then don't worry!" He placed his hand on her shoulder and their cheeks touched, "this point doesn't mean anything for a reserved woman like you!"

He stood straight again.

"But how could be your thoughts written here?" she exclaimed. "Didn't you tell me several minutes ago, that I'm the only one who fills in the contract?"

"It's written in description of my protection of you," his voice became lower, "And as I mentioned before only I decide how to do it," and than backed to normal.

"All right," she sighed. She suspected that it was a trap, something that she would regret later; but she didn't want to worry about it too much. She was sure in her distrust of people.

(Y/n) continued on reading. It was a part of what Alastor would do to protect her.

"As you see, darling," Alastor looked at his nails, "I will always be by your side." He smiled wider at her.

"I give you my shadow," He hastened to add, "well, only a part of it, otherwise you would have my shape of shadow hahaha!"

She glanced at his shadow. Yeah, it would be difficult to explain why did a girl had a shadow of a tall, slim, deer like man.

She looked at the contact again. She sighed and signed it without hesitation. Before she had time to finish the last letter, the contact disappeared in green light.

Alastor stood in the bright green light holding out his hand. His antlers grew larger, reminding the branches of a dead wood. His smile was stitched, and on his forehead (Y/n) saw "X".

They shook hands and all of this had disappeared.

"Well, dear," Alastor adjusted his jacket, "now I'd like to warn you that this shadow has quite a cruel character!" He grined.

(Y/n) looked at her shadow under her feet. It had the same shape as usual, but it was much darker now. And then she saw how the shadow changed its shape in the place of the head. A long sharp arc appeared there. It looked like a smile. (Y/n) felt a shiver run down her spine. The smile disappeared.

"It'll get rid of your evildoers." The demon came closer. "But you need to remember, my dear, that it won't help you, if you let them harm you." He made her look at him, raising her chin. "You're invulnerable now, but you still can be harmed by any woman or anyone who you trust. So choose wisely."

She didn't move. She felt hypnotized, and his touching gave her a little tremble. "What did you say about touching just a moment ago?" said an annoying voice in her head.

"Funny, I told you to chose wisely who to trust, but still I can touch you." Alastor was smiling at her and ran his thumb down her chin. She still didn't move. He drew himself up straight and let her go. She blinked as if coming out of a trance. He put his palm on his chest saying, "I'm very flattered."

It seemed to (Y/n) that she saw some kind of softness and his eyes. But a sardonic grin appeared at his face again.

"Well, my dearest, with this I say goodbye to you." Alastor stepped in the drew circle. He looked around him and sayid to (Y/n), "Interesting, dear, but it seems to me, that I can't leave you until you command."

She looked at him. She understood that she didn't want him to leave. His face, his voice, his manner of speaking... She already missed it.

Did he saw a regret in her eyes?

"It was a real pleasure to get acquainted with you," Alastor said.

"Shall we meet again?" She asked and made a tiny step forward.

"I'm sure we'll do."

She gazed at him, pressing her hands to the chest. They would meet. He gave her power. She was saved. They would meet.

She took a stick and completed the erased circle.

"Goodbye, Alastor."

(Y/n) was left alone.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

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By His Command 1

Summary: you arrive at your new household to serve. (Handmaid AU)

Warning: this series will contain violence, dystopian aspects, rape and noncon, blood, coercion, possible pregnancy and other dark elements. Please read these warnings and beware.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Note: you're screaming at me, why are you starting another AU and I got my fingers in my ears like na nana boo noo.

Oh and there may be more commanders to come...

Anyway, thoughts and prayers welcome for my lost soul. Also feedback and comments if you dont mind. Maybe a reblog. 💕💕💕💕

You watch the cloud of your breath in the cold air. The grey sky stretches endlessly on, as flat as anything else in this pallid world. A white blur trims the edge of your vision, that every present brim, a facsimile of a halo. You are not a fallen angel but a disgraced sinner, sentenced to penance, fated to serve another's salvation.

You clasp your hands together, red gloves chafing roughly, wool scratching your raw skin. You look down at the scarlet ripples, the endless crimson that marks you for exactly what you are. You pull at a stray thread and let it fall away.

You raise your head and stare at the opaque screen that separates you from the man in black. The guardian drives on across the fields paled by an early frost, dried grasses wilted beneath the premature winter. You take another frigid breath and lean forward, hovering your hand before the small vent in the door. Nothing.

You sit back. You know better than to complain. There is no one for you to complain to. No one who cares. You are not a person with feelings and thoughts. You are a vessel, to be filled and emptied over and over. You repress a shudder and keep your welling eyes aimed out the tinted window.

You dip your head and hide beneath the broad brim of your white bonnet. You clutch your hands tight and wade through the mounting panic in your chest. The women who left the centre didn't often come back, and when they did, it was never pleasant. Still, you would give anything to go back. There you know what the worst and the best is.

You don't know much of what awaits you, only that it floods you with dread. A commander and his wife, but what else? Will he be cruel? Will she hate you? Will you be able to do what you were trained to?

You part your hands and bring them up your arms, hugging yourself. You can't remember the last time anyone held you. The last time anyone dared touch you. Even when you laid screaming before the other handmaids, hands bloody, back welted, no one dared come near you, no one thought to comfort you.

The SUV turns and you force your eyelids apart. You sniffle and wipe your nose with the coarse wool glove. There is a low stone fence that trails the long winding road towards a tall gate. The tires slow as your heart piques and you choke on terror.

At a halt, you hear the man's voice in the front seat, through the barrier that divides you. For order, for chasteness, for your debasement. You are not worthy. You are emblazoned as a blasphemer.

The car rolls on, jerking you back against the seat. A slow draw that brings into view shedding hedges, stone benches, a fountain, a lawn that expands before you. You watch the birds flutter, marveling at their peace, and a leaf drifts down in a calm path to the ground. A serenity that so starkly counterbalances the chaos blooming in your chest.

You veer around the curved arm of the driveway and once more stop. The engine rolls over and quiets. The front door opens and you flinch. Steps tramp and come around, a shadow awaiting you on the otherside as the locks slide back.

The guardian opens the door and you grab the red valise on your feet. You turn your legs over the side of the seat and step out, heels clacking off the hard stone. The man steps back, gripping the strap of his gun.

"Go," he nods his chin in the direction of the house.

You look over at the grand facades, stone and mortar in a centurion style, rooves high and looming, a balcony with a naked trellis below. You gulp and march forward, grasping the round handle of your bag with both hands. The man trails you, keeping you on course as his steps echo your own.

You get to the first step and raise your foot, setting in on the stope edge. The front door opens and steals your attention from the hem of your skirt. You look up as a Martha emerges in her green smock and apron. Her faces is blotchy and her grimace is deepset.

"Come, OfLloyd," she beckons you with a curt wave, "we must prepare for the Commander's return."

#lloyd hansen x reader #dark lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #the gray man #by his command #handmaid au #au #series #drabble

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godspeedviper · 2 months

Text

Minuetto - Hannibal x Fem!Reader (18+)

𖤐 Synopsis: Reader is playing the part of Mrs. Fell, and takes part in a Florentine masquerade ball at the university Hannibal (under the assumed identity of Mr. Fell) teaches at.

𖤐 Type: established relationship || smut

𖤐 Word Count: 1,620

𖤐 Rating: explicit || clothing kink || social drinking || needle play || manipulation || pain play || PiV

𖤐 A/N: I do not speak Italian but I'm fluent in Spanish (native) and French, so I thought I'd go wild with the swearing lmao. Please feel free to correct any mistakes in the replies!

⚠️DON'T LIKE DON'T READ. BLOCK DON'T REPORT⚠️

Hannibal leans on the bar countertop, picking up a glass of champagne, and he watches the crowded courtyard like a skilled predator, waiting for the opportunity to strike. He manages to simultaneously blend in and stand out, as there is a crowd of curious onlookers marveling at the historically costumed partygoers. He has his eye on a specific couple that are engaged in a rhythmic minuet on the dance floor. She wore a crème colored robe à la français with floral details, a translucent fichu over her décolletage, and a matching crème colored mask with blush pink faux feathers atop it. She twirled across the dance floor with dwindling grace, her hands holding steadfast onto a young man’s forearms, he was one of Hannibal’s (or should I say Mr. Fell’s) new colleagues. He watched as her steps quickly grew more and more uneasy, ultimately leading to her collapse. Hannibal sprung into action and darted towards his damsel in distress, weaving through the crowd of partygoers like a viper ready to strike.

“Vita mia!” Hannibal exclaimed, as he reached down to pick her up off the floor. “Stai bene, carina?”

She nodded weakly in response before Hannibal turned his attention to the man she had been dancing with.

“How dare you?” It was less a question and more a threat. “I trusted you to hold my wife’s drink and this is what you make of that trust!”

“Sei pazzo, come pensi che sia possible?” The man, gesturing wildly, shouted in return.

A crowd started to gather around the trio, whispering amongst themselves a myriad of scenarios that could possibly unfold. Hannibal quickly glanced around at the masked onlookers before pulling his fist back and throwing a hard punch directly at the man in front of him, crushing the man’s paper mâche mask into his nose. Hannibal placed himself firmly between the man and the drugged “Mrs. Fell”, imitating another punch to frighten the man into not fighting back.

“Porca di quella grandissima puttana troia della Madonna di merda cristo iddio inculato da Geppetto e da tutti i santi in colonna!” Yelled the man as he tried to stem the bleeding from his nose with the sleeves of his costume.

Hannibal puts his arm around her waist and starts to slowly escort his damsel off the premises and to the safety of their shared home.

*****

“What the fuck did you put in my drink this time, Hannibal?” She stirred, coming to in the frighteningly familiar comfort of a silk covered chaise.

“Nothing you haven’t already tried before, tesoro.” He replied with a purr.

“So you set up that poor man just to drug me?” She scoffed. “You said you weren’t even gonna show up to the party and yet you show up just to cause problems! You’re insufferable.”

“And yet here you are.” He smiled menacingly. “Thousands of miles away from home, in the hands of a wanted man.”

Hannibal stalked toward the chaise, tossing aside his suit jacket in the process. He bent over the chaise, his hands gripping the frame as he towered over her. She inhaled sharply, still a bit drowsy from the drug. A whole body shudder tore through her in anticipation.

“You ought to be more appreciative of me, carina.” He looked at her how a starved man might look at a fresh kill, with a wild hunger that threatened to tear into her with reckless abandon. “I’ve done so much for you, for us.” His breath tickled her lips. “Besides, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see you on the dance floor in full costume. You looked absolutely riveting, carina.”

Hannibal’s charm in combination with the drug cast a powerful spell upon her. She looked into his ice cold gaze with reverence, mistaking malice for mirth, as beauty does not discriminate against lethality. Almost instinctively, she lifts her head off the mattress in an attempt to capture his lips in a heated kiss, but Hannibal swiftly pulls back and denies her reward. He pushes away from the chaise, standing straight once more and looking down at her with near contempt. She whimpers slightly as she feels his warmth leave her, and he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“Tsk tsk.” Hannibal wags his finger. “You need to be reminded of why you are here… alive. You are mine, and you must do as I say, tesoro. Capisci?”

She quickly nods her head in agreement, not daring to say a word.

“Now then, tell me, who do you belong to?”

“Y-” Before she could utter another syllable Hannibal struck her across the face with his palm.

“Incorrect.” He said coldly. “I’ll give you another chance. Who do you belong to?”

“H-H-Hannibal? I… I belong to you… Hannibal.” She spoke with caution, gently rubbing her reddened cheek with her fingertips. This is what she so craved, danger, passion, the feeling of her heart beating furiously in her chest as she flirted with death.

“Good girl.” He replied. “Play along now, and I promise it will be worth your while.”

Hannibal pulls up a small ottoman to sit on at her feet. He begins by carefully removing her shoes and tossing them aside. Then, his hands reach out to her torso, his fingers searching the fabric of her dress for the pins which hold the stomacher in place. He slowly tugs her fichu out of its place, exposing her full cleavage, held up nicely by the boned stays underneath.

“Hold still,” He said, and he began to put the pins into her skin, making sure to just catch the uppermost layer so as not to leave a nasty scar. She winced at first, but ultimately surrendered to the sensation as she watched him arrange the pins so that they formed a heart. “Good girl.”

Once finished with the pins, Hannibal set the stomacher aside and pushed the gown off of her. She watched as his hands took their time untying the ribbons which held up the petticoat and pockets underneath. It was as if he had all the time in the world, Hannibal moved at such a languid pace humming happily beneath his breath. He enjoyed this, he enjoyed the process of unwrapping her bit by bit, making her wait while he savored each dainty detail, committing them to his memory palace. She lifts her hips, allowing Hannibal to pull the layered petticoats off her body and onto the floor. He took her leg into his hands, brushing his lips against the knee high stockings, feeling the warmth of her body radiating through the white linen. “Bellissima,” He whispered to himself as his lips reached her thighs. Nimble fingers worked the blue silk ribbons she wore as garters, slowly rolling the linen stockings down to her lips, exposing her legs. Situating himself between her legs, he reached back up to her chest and began to gently pull the needles back out of her skin. Hannibal sets them aside on a small side table and watches hungrily as small drops of blood begin to form and ooze out of where the needles once were.

“Oh look at you,” He brings a hand to your cheek. “You delight in wickedness, but then berate yourself for the delight. That simply won’t do, I won’t allow it.”

He stands up and she watches him undress. Starting with the belt buckle, his hands calling attention to the bulge in his slacks. She licks her lips as she watches him free his erection and position himself between her still clothed thighs – the split bloomer design making for ease of access. Without warning, Hannibal thrusts himself into her, as far as her body would take him in this state. She yelps out in pain as she feels his cock spear her, stretching her sides and causing a dizzying agony.

“Sh sh shhh” Hannibal coos, putting one hand over her mouth and the other gripping her hip over the boned stays.

She struggles against his grip, hot tears rolling down her cheeks as she cries out in pain, pleasure, and delirium – his hand muffling her helpless pleas. He thrusts into her hard, hips setting a merciless pace and his eyes fixated on the rhythmic bouncing of her breasts bulging out from the bodice stays, covered in wispy streaks of blood. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as pleasure begin to win over the pain. Agonized cries gave way to wanton moans, spurring Hannibal on.

“There you go,” His voice was trembling. “You’re enjoying this, I know you are.”

Her hands desperately clawed at his back as her pleasure mounted up. She loved being his toy, his pretty little victim. He took care of everything, he made all the choices, all the had to do was lay back and let him do as he wished. It was all so much easier than normal life, working late hours, fighting for your career, being threatened by men of status and constantly having to prove herself in her field, chastised for the sin of simply being a young woman in academia. Here, she let Hannibal take the reigns fully. With Hannibal by her side, no one dared threaten her, he made sure she was safe, he took care of her like a princess just so he could have the privilege of breaking her himself; and break her he did.

With one last strong thrust, Hannibal fully lost control, vision going completely white as his orgasm coated her insides. He felt her nails piercing his flesh, the vibrations of her screaming against his palm, the power of knowing she was fully in his hands, and it all sent him over the edge. Perhaps he wouldn’t eat her after all.

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