Also The Fact That This Was Nine Days Ago And There Is Now 702 Of You Lovely People! Thank You All So

One stop off of heaven

Choose your path ➦

My girl

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

All ends well from Bucky and his girl, now they have to make up for lost time and miscommunication.

Chapters:

🛎️Part 1: I'll call you mine - Coming soon

🛎️Part 2: You're my sweet complete desire - Coming soon

Drabbles:

Coming soon (open to thots/asks)

I wanna be yours

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader → Ari Levinson x Reader

Bucky might not want you, but someone from your past absolutely does and he won’t let you be treated like you’re worth nothing. He’ll go above and beyond to show you what love truly is.

Chapters:

🗝️Part 1: Snap out of it

🗝️Part 2: Arabella - Coming soon

Drabbles:

Coming soon (open to thots/asks)

So i found your fic "never stop chasing me" and it is so cute 😭 but as i started reading it tumblr glitched and closed the page and i lost the fic. And i couldn't remember the name of the fic or your username and i was so sad. And tumblr's search bar and hashtag system is so broken i couldn't find it so i had to go to google and search keywords i remembered from the fic. And i did find it of course!!

I'm glad i found it because it definitely was worth the search!! I love how you characterized ransom. He is the jerk we all know and love, but you also brought a tenderness that feels natural to his character. And im very impressed that as a one-shot you progressed ransom and reader's relationship in a way that wasn't rushed or drawn out.

Sorry for the rant. You're a great writer, thank you for sharing your work!!

Rants are always welcomed lovely! I’m so glad you found NSCM again, no thanks to dumblr 😒 I’m happy you liked it @knight-core I love the character of Ransom, I feel like he’s a soft gooey little teddy bear on the inside who uses his asshole exterior to protect his fragile heart. If you want more of Ransom and his Puppy you can find them in my new ‘Festive cookie Drabble’ part of my Monstertober challenge 🫰🏻💕

Monstertober Day 3:

The Scarecrow walks at midnight

Pairing: Scarecrow!Ari Levinson x Reader

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, serious Non con, death, mentions of blood, asphyxiation/choking, bruises (not the kinky kind), Beefy!Ari (6,8ft), size difference, held down, chasing, p in v

Nicknames: Song bird, birdie

Word count: 2.3k

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭🎀 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

AN: My apologies that this is a bit late, I had some health issues yesterday which really messed up my whole day. I ended up changing it from Headless horseman!Bucky to Scarecrow!Ari, because I had such bad writers block when trying to write it. I hope y’all enjoy and like all the Goosebumps references ♥︎

You pull up to The Stanley's farm, you’d know the Stanley’s for a long time. Everyone in this town knew everyone, that’s how it always been. Which is why, when Natasha sent you texts saying to come find her in a corn maze. You knew this was where she was talking about and despite the fact that it was technically closed right now, you knew the Stanley’s wouldn’t mind. You hopped out of the warmth of your car and into the autumn night. You loved the countryside, but you hated the fact that there were no lights. You only had the stars and the moon to guide you as you stumbled across the rocky path towards the corn maze.

It wasn’t far, you could see the sign, but you could also see a foreboding wooden cross standing outside the corn maze that you’d never seen before. You stopped in front of the wooden cross, running your fingers across the red paint chipping off the splintering wood. There’s nails with shreds of fabric still tangled around the posts; there was something hung up here at some point, a scarecrow more likely than not “The shity neighbourhood kids probably ripped it off” you huff “Always ruining everything, they threw paint in the plaza fountain only last week.” You drag your hand to the apex of the cross, it’s warm. Peculiar. You brush it off, despite your uncertainty, and look back at the text Natasha sent you.

I’m in the corn maze

Bet you can’t find me, scaredy-cat 👻🐈‍⬛

She had some nerve calling you a scaredy-cat, who in their right mind wouldn’t be scared to go alone into a bloody corn maze at midnight. It was pitch black, aside from the piercing light of the moon that parted the slate clouds that drifted across the inky, velvet blanket of the sky.

You stand infront of the en tree dance of the corn maze. It’s marked by an ornate metal sign, with chipping discoloured paint ‘Stanley’s Corn Maze’ it said in a faded orange paint. It felt like the beginning of a horror movie. Two friends enter a corn maze at night, now you just need a killer.

“Natashaaaaa” you sing “where are youuuuuu?” You’d been walking for what felt like forever, your phone was only on 4%. Nerves were starting to prickle in your belly “Come on I can’t find you! I give up okay so let’s go! I wanna watch a scary movie. Oooo maybe we can watch ‘Stay out of the Basement’ that’s meant to be good.” You hear the rustling of the dying corn leaves being pushed aside behind you, but still no reply from Natasha “Nat, if you’re trying to scare me it ain’t gonna work. I can hear you.” You spin around on your heel. It was not Natasha.

It was a man, he looked to be well over six foot tall. From where you were standing he was an Adonis; a halo of blonde hair and bulging muscle. He stepped closer, you remained still.

In the moon's pale light you could see the dirty blonde hair, tousled and scruffy with loose bits of hay and dirt tangled in his locks. He had a thick beard and moustache, but the glow from the moon still allowed you to see his prominent cheekbones. His firm chest strained against the thin fabric of his red, plaid shirt. You could see the contour of his torso and arms, he was covered in muscle and towering over you. As he stepped closer, further into the moonlight, you could see his face clearer; there were two messy stitches on either side of his mouth, clotted blood surrounding the punctures and strands of hay protruding from his skin. As he neared closer. You stumbled backwards. Fresh blood coated his thick, veiny arms all the way up to his sleeves rolled at his elbows, the cloth of his sleeves stained and dripping “Where are you going little bird? I want you to sing for me.” The stitched corners of his lips stretched into a smile as he lunged forward at you, his heavy body's ungraceful movements allowed you to dart past him into the thicket of corn. Your hands guarded your face defensively as you dashed through the corn, the brown, aged husks and leaves whipping at your exposed skin “Birdie! I’m gonna find you!” His bellowing voice pierced through the deafening sound of your blood rushing in your head.

You paused as your foot treads on something squishy, yet firm, you turn your gaze to the floor. Natasha. She’s beaten and bloody, clothes torn and her head appears to almost be severed from her shoulders “Nat…” you whimper, her eyes are still open. You hear the jostling of corn. You have no time to close them as you take off again, the bleak night air drowning you as you gulp it down like a fish. The burning tears dripping from your eyes burn your icy skin, you turn your head back to try to see him. He’s not there. You practically jump out of your skin as you hear a loud crack of thunder rumble around you, then cold drops of rain begin to fall. The drops that sprinkle across your skin send goosebumps across your skin, your hairs prickling to a point as you shiver.

You need to keep running, despite your exhaustion you find it within you to keep going. You can hear the corn rattling around you from every direction, you were so disorientated. As you jogged through the maze you reached down to your pocket to search for your dying phone, that’s when all hope drained from you. You’d dropped your fucking phone. The rain began to pick up, turning from a light dusting to harsh, thick droplets that fell with such speed that it hurt your skin. You came to a halt in a patch of newly formed mud, what were you meant to do? You felt doomed, you could no longer restrain the sobs that left you, lip wobbling as you choked on your sorrows.

One second you're standing, the next you’re tackled to the ground. Your shoulder collides with the sludgy earth and air catches in your lungs as you let out a choked yelp. You smash your hands into the Scarecrow's strong chest as you writhe against his fierce grip, he only needs one of his hands to overpower you and pin your hands above your head. You’re forced to look at him atop of you. His hair is glued to his forehead with sweat and the moonlight causes the thin sheen covering his skin to glitter like tiny diamonds. He bends closer to you, hot puffs of air from his heavy breathing suffocating you. He presses his face into the crook of your neck; the bristly hairs of his beard scratching against your neck as he licks at your neck, he shoved his nose into your hair and takes a long deep breathe in “Smell so good birdie, better than other woman. Ari’s gonna give you pleasure now.” You thrash against him kicking at him, he ignores it and bends one of your legs over his shoulder, “Lie still, Song bird, gonna make you feel so nice.” He grunts as you kick at his face, catches your ankle in his free hand and squeezes. His grip strength is inhuman. You shriek as you feel your bones creaking against the pressure he applies, your bones threaten to snap.

“Stop! Stop! I won’t kick you please!” You scream, the agony sending shocks across your nerves and to your brain, a dull ache lingering in your skull. He lets go of your ankle and lands a powerful punch to your gut, grit your teeth and grunt “Oof!” acidic sickness rising in your throat, you swallow it.

“Other girl wouldn’t stop screaming. Squeezed her too hard. Always squeeze too hard, it was an accident. Not gonna squeeze as hard with you, Birdie, like you, like your voice, like your scent. Want you alive.” His large hand tears your shorts and panties with one pull, the display petrified you but it also made your pussy drip. He ran two fingers through your fold, collecting some of your slick and bringing it to his mouth. He sucked his fingers clean of your cream, releasing his fingers with a loud pop “Taste so good. Need to fuck you.” Ari grumbled, undoing his jeans, releasing his member that slapped against his clothed stomach. It was long and ribbed with a thick purple vein running up the shaft and patch of pale blonde hair dusted his pelvis.

You moved your hips away from him. He hooks his calloused hand under your knee quickly and pulls you closer “No riggling, Birdie. Don’t wanna hurt you.” The fear freezes you in place and he takes the chance to thrust all the way inside you, smashing into your cervix causing you scream out and thrash as his dick crams uncomfortable inside you, he’s too big. You can feel the rubbed texture of his cock as your walls clamp harshly in an attempt to push him out. He pistons his hips without a care, unbothered by your body's feeble attempt at rejection. Your shrieks appear to fall upon death ears until he lifts you slightly by your wrists and then slams you back into the ground. Your brain rattles in your skull as your head hits the floor; a pounding pain throbs across the back of your head, and you look at him with a bewildered expression.

“No, Birdie, you’re meant to sing nicely. No screaming, or I’ll squeeze.” His scratchy knuckles brushes away the tears flowing down your cheeks. You nod and whimper, fighting the pain and letting out soft ‘oh’s and ‘ah’s as he continued his brutal pace, bending closer to you pushing your legs into you, angling your hips so he could thrust even deeper. Spearing you all the way to the hilt of his girthy length, you let out a guttural cry as he grunted and groaned in response to his own wild thrusts. Heat spread across your back as his pelvis rubbed against your clit “Tight.” He growled, pressing a kiss to your temple, he smelt strongly of hay and dirt, but underneath that strong scent of petrichor was a uniquely manly musk. Your pleasure was interrupted as his hand released your wrists, he slammed his fist into the ground, snarling as he thrusted. The hand holding your knee squeezed extremely tightly, you could feel bruises forming under his touch.

“Ow! Ari! Squeezing too tight!” You yowled, he was going to snap your knee. You dug your nails into the back of his neck, his pace slowed; his hips stuttering as he came to a stop entirely.

“Sorry, SongBird. Won’t squeeze anymore.” For a man…Scarecrow who was raping you he was being surprisingly considerate. He rubbed the pad of his thumb against your reddened cheeks soothingly before pulling out all the way to his tip before ramming back into you, hard enough for your body to slide around in the mud below you. Your lungs burn and your throat is raw. You bite back a scream when his bulbous tip collided with your cervix once again “Close. So close. Sing! Sing for me Birdie!” You whimper and let out an involuntary moan as his cock rubs the sweet spot within you. His barred teeth soften into a smile at your moans, his free hand comes to neck and he begins to squeeze. You remember Natasha, the way her head laid in a pool of blood. How you could barely see any remnants of her neck. You began to thrash once again, Ari ignored you, lost in his own pleasure. You could feel his cock twitching inside, in your mind you pleaded for him to come. For it to be over. His thrusts quickened even more, his hips bashing painfully into your ass. The sound of his balls slapping against your skin overpowering the crackle of thunder. He threw his head back and let out a full bodied groan, which resembled a roar as he came inside you. The ropes of his come were cold, just like his whole body-ice cold, the amount of his spend was unrelenting. He released your neck, you let out a series of cough thanking God for answering you as took deep breaths of air. You’d never been so grateful to be able to breathe.

Ari still hadn’t pulled out, he was still hard. Your pussy was rubbed raw from his pubic hair, and your clit ached painful from the force of his pelvis colliding with it. Then his thrusts continued. He wanted to go again. You clawed at him and he pinned you again “Bad Birdie, not done yet.” He murmured. You stared up at the moon as it mocked you, moving so freely through the sky. You curse the moon for letting him come alive. Your thoughts begin to fade as you just gaze up at the moving clouds heavy with more rain.

Resistance was futile. So you just laid there taking it. You close your eyes, your head was heavy from the adrenaline crash. You hoped sleep would take you, and it did.

The orange, pink tinge of sunset colours your vision as you open your eyes. Your ears are ringing, a piercing static reverberating in your skull. Your eyes sting and your throat is strained and scratchy. You push your hands beside you, they sink into the mud slightly as you sit up. A dull pain radiates throughout the apex of your thighs and legs, the bruises that litter them clear in the garish glow of the orange morning sun. You look around you, there’s hay scattered across the ground and beside you is the Scarecrow, face down in the mud your phone beneath his freakishly human hands. The baritone sound of his voice echoes in your mind as you pull your phone out and turn it on. 1% battery…Better call the right person.

Tag list: @alina02 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @cevansgurl @getwellsoontana @bval-1 @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @renster05 @flamefoxxrecs @savstranger @sojuxxi @cjand10 @sweetwrathoflilith @adoreyouusugar

Not you calling Lloyd’s pornstache a furry little monster! 🤣 I almost cried, this actually made my day.😂

🎃Lloyd x Reader: Pumpkin carving Drabble🎃

Warnings: knife play, mostly fluff, reader has sensitive ears, hand kink, scent kink, reader being a brat, marking/ hickeys/ biting, implied smut

Nicknames: Pumpkin

A/N: A spooky little treat before the next Monstertober day

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

“How did I let you convince me to do this again, Pumkin?” Lloyd questioned in a huff, he stood in the doorway wearing his tight black turtleneck, which was your favourite, with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his hairy, bulky arms, his vein rippling out of his skin like lightning bolts trailing down to his calloused hands.

“I promised you a reward afterwards.” You giggled passing him a kitchen knife, which he began chucking up and down “Lloyd that’s dangerous.” You warned, he smiled at the concerned look on your face

“I know what I’m doing, Pumpkin.” He threw it up in the air one more time, bumping the handle with his elbow as it fell, catching it with his hand and pointing it towards his pumpkin “You’ve got everything set out so nicely, like a little housewife.” He cooed, pulling you close and placing a kiss on your forehead.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks at his comment. You, a housewife…for him. You liked the idea, you couldn’t deny that; but the way he said, it like his words held so much more meaning behind them. You always loved when he complimented you, it made you feel so special. Nothing else in the world mattered except what Lloyd thought, what Lloyd said—he’d made you completely reliant on him. “L-Let’s get started…That pumpkins yours and this one's mine.” You cursed yourself for stuttering, Lloyd smirked at your brushing his large hand across your forearm before pulling his pumpkin closer to him on the newspaper. You followed suit, picking up your knife and beginning to cut a circle around the stem of the pumpkin—you had much more difficulty than Lloyd as tried to cut through the tough skin of the pumpkin.

“Are you sure you’re allowed to do this?”

“Of course I am! I know how to use a knife, Lloyd. I'm not a child. And then we can make pumpkin bread after this.” You huffed turning away from him and continuing to cut into the pumpkin.

Lloyd grabbed your chin turning you towards him “No, I mean because you’re a pumpkin; so this is murder and cannibalism. I never knew you were so devious, Pumpkin.” You opened your mouth to reply but no words left your mouth, you just stared at him with your mouth hanging open. He let you go and resumed carving his pumpkin, you closed your mouth and returned your own pumpkin, pulling the center out before you began digging out the seeds.

Your gaze drifted over to Lloyd as he held onto the pumpkin with one of his hands, the muscles shifting under his skin as he squeezed the skin of the pumpkin. The golden ring on his pinky finger glimmering in the light catching your attention briefly as you remembered the time he slipped it on to each one of your fingers trying to get it fit “it only fits your thumb, Pumpkin, you’re so tiny compared to me…Don’t worry I'll get you a ring just like this one so we can match.” He did get you a ring to match, it was perfectly tailored to the size of your pinky. Your eyes travelled up his arms, watching as his biceps tensed whilst he used a spoon to scoop out some of the pumpkins innards. You had to look away to stop yourself from drooling, Lloyd knew you were watching. He was taking his time on purpose, squeezing the firm outside of the pumpkin and intermittently letting out a soft grunt to toy with you. He loved to see the way you practically salivated over him—he always knew you adored his hands, his scent, his eyes, his body. He knew The parts you liked about him so he abused your weaknesses just to be able to watch you stumble over your words; just last week he caught you spraying some of his new cologne on one of his hoodies you’d stolen, so he instantly bought more of it. Lloyd broke the silence “I’m all up in this pumpkin's guts. Kinda like I was last night with you-“ You pout grabbing some of the mashed up pumpkin and throwing it at him “Hey! No throwing the pumpkin. God, it smells so bad.” His face contorts into disgust as he wipes it off his black turtleneck grimacing at the texture and wetness as he throws it on to the newspaper-clad counter.

You giggle, letting a devious smile spread across your lips “Then don’t be such a perv, we’re meant to be doing a wholesome activity for once.” You cross your arms and arch an eyebrow at him.

“There’s nothing wholesome about the way you were looking at my hands, Pumpkin, don’t think I didn’t see you.” Your face heats up in embarrassment and without thinking you smear your pumpkin covered hands across his stupid attractive face “Oh that’s it!” Lloyd picked up the knife he’d been using to carve the pumpkin and hovers it underneath your chin, gently gliding the blade against the delicate soft skin of your throat, the juice of the pumpkin on the knife leaving a sticky trail “I’ve played nice for long enough, now it’s time to have fun. You like that idea don’t you, Pumpkin? Your thighs are clenching. I decided to be nice and play along with your desire to carve pumpkins, and you return the favour by being a brat.” He leans down to your ear, his hot breath fanning at the sensitive skin “Good thing I like it when you’re a brat.” He whispers, rubbing the bristles of his moustache against the shell of your ear, relishing in the whine that escapes from your lips as he sucks on your earlobe. He knows it’s sensitive, he’s teasing you. You wipe your hands on the tea towel you’d set out and then rest your now clean hands on his shoulders for support as he continues to attack your sensitive ears. Lloyd moves down from your ear to your neck, licking a stripe from your jaw to clavicle. He settled at your collar bone, suckling at the thin skin and running it through his teeth. You buried your fingers in his cropped hair, fiddling with the styled top till strands of his hair were falling onto his forehead in curls.

You rub your thighs together, relishing in the friction, as he drags the knife down your neck to your torso, pressing harder so you can feel the blade through the crew neck of his that you were wearing. He drew crescents beneath reach of your breast before travelling further down. Lloyd pressed hot opened mouth kisses to your throat as he bunched the sweater at your hips “Only panties? How naughty.” Lloyd purred, sucking a hickey into your neck.

He ran the cool blade of the knife along your thigh, bringing it ever so close to the apex of your hips tracing your folds with the blunt side of the blade before running it back up your torso, across your chest and back to your neck; outlining your collar bones then your trachea and settling just below your jaw. He stared down at you, you swore those eyes could see into the depth of your soul. You followed the slate outer ring that faded into a bright blue—one glance into those eyes made any bad day better. His pink lips curved into a smile and he pulled the knife away from your throat, raising the blade in the air threateningly.

Lloyd stabbed the knife into his pumpkin and then picked you up, your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck. He gave you a quick kiss “We’ll finish carving later, I want my reward now.” He kissed you again, but this time he deepened it; slipping his tongue into your mouth intertwining it with yours before catching your bottom lip with his teeth and tugging at it “What do you say, Pumpkin? Want me to be all up in your guts?”

‘I’d like that.” You titter as he strides with you up the stairs towards the bedroom. Pumpkin carving will have to wait after all.

Tag list: @cevansgurl @bval-1 @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @flamefoxxrecs @sojuxxi @adoreyouusugar @gryffindorqueensworld @aerangi @itwillgetbetter @taramaria

wait so did she really dead omg😟😟😟

If you’re talking about Thanatosis🦋 then, no, she is not dead. She simply gave in to her inner voice telling her that Bucky cared about her and loved her, basically forfeiting all of her free will—she developed severe Stockholm syndrome.

Never stop chasing me 🐕

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: Overprotective!Ransom, softdom!Ransom, angst, Beefy!Ransom, mentions of mean!Ransom, cunnilingus, praise, body worship, p in v

Nicknames: Puppy

Word count: 2.9k

You’ve been in love with Ransom for as long as he could remember. It was obvious to everyone around you, even to him but he ignored it. He liked feeling wanted. He liked the look of pure admiration in your eyes. He liked how you’d follow him around like a puppy. And he loved your adorable jealous face when he flirted with others. But lately you haven’t been coming around, you’ve been avoiding him completely. Then he sees you with another man. He can’t bear it, he needs you back.

Master list

Tag list🎀

Wherever Ransom went, you weren’t far behind. At the country club? You were there. At social events? You were there. Shopping for new clothes? You were definitely there; carrying his bags, giving opinions on outfits and keeping him company. Your behaviour had earned you the nickname ‘Puppy’, well at least, that was what the nicer people called you. Others, who were less nice, called you a more explicit word of the same origin. The nickname had stuck, even Ransom called you it now ‘Puppy, carry this.’ or ‘Puppy, follow me.’ or ‘Puppy, put that down’ They’d all become frequent commands. He liked having a little puppy to follow him everywhere, despite him disliking dogs—he liked you, though he would never show it. He loved the fact that no matter what he did you’d always run back to him. He adored the sad puppy eyes you always gave him; whenever he abandoned you to go off with others or whenever he said something inherently mean to you like insulting your outfit, hair or just general appearance that day—he loved the sight of tears threatening to spill from your big eyes and your lip quivering at his insults, it was one of his favourite activities. He felt powerful when he did it, something he always lacked at home—but you slotted right into that category of need perfectly. He valued your friendship deep, deep down in his seemingly non existent heart. He refused to show it though, because to show it was to admit that he needed you and he didn’t need anyone…Or did he?

But then it happened the next day, and the day after that and then just like that a week had passed. A bleak, lonely week. He sat snuggled in a sweater on one of the cushiony, cream chairs next to the roaring fireplace. He’d been on the same page of the latest fashion mag for almost an hour, staring blankly at the model; pretending to himself that he was reading it and that he totally was not waiting for you to reply to his 30th text or 50th missed call.

But then it happened the next day, and the day after that and then just like that a week had passed. A bleak, lonely week. He sat snuggled in a sweater on one of the cushiony, cream chairs next to the roaring fireplace. He’d been on the same page of the latest fashion mag for almost an hour, staring blankly at the model; pretending to himself that he was reading it and that he totally was not waiting for you to reply to his 30th text or 50th missed call.

He had caved on the third day. He couldn’t bare the silence any more. It was making him antsy, his leg was continually bouncing and for the first time in forever he’d begun biting his nails again—a habit he’d had to try so hard to curb. God damn he missed you. He missed your presence, the soft chime of your sing-song tone, the light pitter patter of your feet as you followed closely behind him and your scent—he missed that most—it was so comforting, he’d instantly relax when he smelt you. He was crumbling without it. He threw down the magazine, onto the small black table that divided the chairs, in frustration throwing his head back, resting an arm on his forehead and letting out an elongated Ughh. He was bored and lonely. Argh he hates that word: Lonely. Why the fuck should he, Hugh Ransom Drysdale, have to be lonely? It was a ridiculous concept. The words Drysdale and lonely do not align, they should never be placed next to each other. It was sacrilege. But somehow it happened.

He needed to fuck someone.

That was the conclusion he had come to, that’s why he was here at ‘Miss Scarlet’ ‘The hottest bar in town’ is what every stupid tourist site called it. To Ransom, it was exclusively known as ‘the bird nest’ because it was one of the only places he went to pick up women. Aside from the country club, of course, but he'd almost run entirely through its supply of hot milfs looking to cheat on their husbands. So now he was here, nursing a drink whilst he flirted with a hot blonde at the bar. That’s when he saw you. More dressed up than he’d ever seen you before, giggling at a guy's jokes, touching his arm whilst he kissed along your delicate face. He squeezed the glass in his hand so hard that it threatened to shatter. He slammed his glass into the polished bar top, leaving his maraschino cherry. And he never left his maraschino cherry.

Before he knew it he was striding over to you, uncaring about the looks he was getting as he parted the crowd like the Red Sea to get to you. You were stunned at the sight of him; his eyes narrowed, dark and dangerous, chest heaving, hair slightly tousled and nostrils flared as he stood tall, towering over you and the man you were fooling around with “Get up, Puppy. We’re leaving.” He demanded, waiting for you to comply. You remained seated “Puppy. Get up. Now.” He ordered sneering at the fact that he had to repeat himself, he had never had to do that with you. You had always followed commands the second they were uttered. You ignored him for the second time, he was livid. “Hey you. Yeah you, fuck face, who else I’m I talking to? Take a fucking walk okay? Just piss off.” the man shifted in his seat but you grabbed his wrist, looking at him with your puppy eyes. That broke him.

His pride took the back seat, as walked into the booth seizing your wrist and using little of his strength to pull you in his chest. His other hand drifting to the small of your back, your scent hit him. Fuck he needed you, more than he’d needed anyone before. He’d never noticed how much bigger he was than you, how he practically engulfed you. It made him hard. He picked you up, cradling you in his arms- as if you were a fragile baby—and grabbed your stuff before marching out of the bar towards his prized BMW. He set you down in the passenger seat and then got into the drivers side. You started to frantically pull at the door handle, trying to get out of here. You couldn’t be in here with him, you could feel all the words you’d wished you said tangling inside you; getting trapped in you throat forming a painful lump as your lip wobbled and tears rolled down your cheeks “Open the door! Ransom!” You thought you sounded fine aside from when you said his name, your voice quaked and you let out a little whimper. He noticed though and it made his heart ache at the sound of your pain. Finally you gave up on the door.

“The child lock is on, you won’t be running from me, Puppy. I need to talk to you, let’s get to my house first.” You didn’t respond “Do your seatbelt up.” You made no movement to do so, crossing your arms over your chest and looking out the window. Ransom leaned across you, buckling you in. He swiped at the tears on the cheek facing him, telling you it was going to be okay before turning the key and starting the drive back to his house.

You were silent the whole journey, aside from your sobs that you attempted to muffle in the sleeve of your auburn sweater. He put some calming music on low volume hoping to calm you. It didn’t work. Your sobs just became more ragged, he could see your whole body shaking in his peripheral vision as he pulled up to the house.

He immediately got out of the car, wasting no time as he practically ran to your side. Throwing open the door, swiftly unbuckling your seat belt and pressing you back into his chest, rocking you like an infant and shushing you as he rubbed soothing circles into your back. He locked the car and walked up to his house, struggling to unlock the door. He finally did, kicking the door open and shutting it ungracefully behind him as he entered the living room setting you down on the couch. He finally looked at your face. It was red and wrecked with tears and snot that you had attempted to rub away with your sleeve. You hiccuped as more tears came, the gravity of the situation crushing your chest pushing all your emotions out of you, you tried to cover yourself, to curl in on yourself so he couldn’t see your disheveled state as you unwound before him. He plopped down next to you and pulled you close “Y/N you need to look at me, okay? We need to talk about this. I need to know why you left.”

You slowly let down your arms “why I left? Ransom y-you k-know why I left.” You choked looking at him incredulously. He stared at you dumbfounded, he had no idea. “You make me feel s-so insignificant, you’re always so mean to m-me despite e-everything I do for y-you and you always ignore m-me and make me feel like I don’t even… I don’t even e-exist.” You cursed yourself for stuttering, you looked and sounded pitiful. You whimpered as his hand stroked your cheek, leaning into his cool hand for relief from the sweltering warmth that was stifling you.

“I never knew you felt like that. I was so lonely without you, Puppy.”

“Stop it.” You sniffled, face scrunching up in anger as you pulled away from his touch

“Stop what?”

“Calling me Puppy. I hate it. You always use it to make fun of me, you hate dogs Ransom so it’s your way of saying you h-hate me.” You mumble in a strained voice, a fresh stream of salty tears ran down your face as you choked painfully on the tight knot in your throat, a sob wracking your body as he squeezed you tighter into his muscular chest .

“I’m not making fun of you. I call you Puppy because you follow me around like one. I love you. This week without you made me realise that. I can’t be without you, my life falls to pieces when I don’t have you here. I love you, Puppy. I can’t see you with another man, it hurt so much and it made me so fucking angry.” He had to stop the anger from over taking him, he didn’t want to scare you, but just picturing that guy putting his lips on you made him want to ravish you. He began kissing your tears away and wiped your nose with a tissue from the table “No more crying okay? Because you’re making me cry too.” And it was true there were actual tears running down his face, for the first time ever he was actually crying. Your tiny hand cupped his face, marvelling at the tears that were actually falling from his eyes “I’ve known you loved me ever since we became friends. But I liked you chasing me.”

“You’re such an asshole Ransom.” You chuckled tucking yourself into the crook of his neck, he soon removed you.

“I know, but I’m your asshole, Puppy.” You swooned at the idea of him being yours, you’d always prayed the day would come when he’d say he loved you and now your dream had come true. His head dipped down just enough to be at level with yours and then he kissed you, curling his rough fingers into your hair as he deepened the kiss. It had started as an innocent kiss, but there was nothing innocent about the way his tongue crept into your mouth or the little moan you let out as he lightly tugged your hair. It metamorphosed into teeth and steamy gasps for air between kisses, your tongues thrashing together with insatiable hunger, as he pushed you back into the couch; your head resting against the arm rest as he continued to devour you. He finally pulled away and admired his handy work. Your lips were red and swollen and your eyes were clouded with lust, practically gawking at him as you shifted uncomfortably pleading for him to continue. Those puppy eyes would be the death of him.

He threw his cable knit sweater to the ground and slipped between your legs, tearing a hole in your tights and pushing your panties to the side. “Ransom you don’t have to do that.” You exclaimed, pushing at his head and squeezing your thighs closed, his strong hands parted them.

“Today is about you. I need to show you how much I love you, Puppy, and the best way to show you is with my mouth.” He ran his tongue between your dripping folds, he let out a deep moan when the taste of you reached him “So fucking sweet.” He growled, pushing his tongue into your clenching hole. One of his hands drifted down your clit, gathering some of your slick before circling the little bud of nerves as he attacked the spongy sweet spot inside of you. You threw your head back, your hands scrambling to take hold of his silky locks. Even his hair felt expensive. You drove your hips into his mouth forcing him further into you.

“Feels so good.” You pant as he pulls out his tongue and replaces it with his fingers, continuing to attack the spot that made your toes curl. His lips closed around your clit licking, sucking and biting ever so gently. He flicked his tongue over your pearl, relishing in your mewls

“That’s it, Puppy, you’re close. Come on my face. I want to taste you. Come.” He ordered, attacking you clit with new found vigour as your hips raised up off the sofa your thighs shook as the using warmth inside you came to its peak. You screamed as he abused your clit even through your orgasm, squirting all over his face. He lapped at you a few times before pulling away. Cold air kissing your tepid, wet pussy sending goosebumps across your skin. Ransom's face was glistening with your slick and his lips were swollen and red. He pulled your tights, underwear and skirt all at once and pulled your sweater over your head, leaving your nude body completely bare to his wandering gaze “you’re gorgeous.” He uttered, not intending for you to hear, stroking his calloused palms against your smooth skin, running his hand over every single curve and dip “I want to worship you, I’ll open a temple for just me and you because you are my goddess. I need to worship you.” You covered your face in embarrassment, he pulled your arms away from your face. “Don’t do that with me, Puppy, I want to see every single one of your beautiful expressions.” He cooed as he undid his pinstripe slacks and pulled down his boxers freeing his length that had been begging to escape, it was heavy and long with a thick vein tracing up the shaft. It twitched as he took a hold of the thick shaft, hovering it over your lower stomach “I’m going to fill you so we’ll, Puppy.” He rasped before nudging the head at your entrance. He pushed his whole length in with a grunt, his dick stretching your walls, relishing in your cries as your back arched further into him. Your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, sucking his shoulder. The scent of his cologne weaved it’s way into your lungs, it was an intoxicating woody magnolia with a hint of vanilla—he smelt like an expensive candle from bath and body works. It was so comforting. You nibbled his neck and he let out a groan and ruts so deep into you that your breath catches in your throat, you let out a high pitched yelp which melts into a moan as he grinds his tip against your cervix a mind numbing sensation blows through you as his nails dig into your hips his girthy cock perfectly rubbing against all the right spots.

your legs clamped around him, drawing him deeper into you, your fingers taking down his back leaving angry red streaks in their wake. You threw your head back, your mouth gaping open in a silent wail “You’re close, Puppy. Me too. Come whenever you want, I’m right behind you.” He moaned, bracing himself on his elbows on top of you.

“Gonna come! Gonna comeee Ransom!” You squealed, he squeezed your clit between his fingers. Plasmid starburst exploded behind your eyelids, sweat collecting at your clavicle as a pleasurable numbness coats your whole being. Ransom fucked you through your orgasm, his thrust becoming unquardinated reaching his peak with a grunt. His messed up hair, damp with sweat drags across your forehead as his lips connect with yours in a compassionate kiss. You let your eyelids fall closed.

Ransom cleaned you up with a warm rag and carried you up to his room, he wanted you to feel safe, to feel comfortable, to feel wanted. He stroked your sleeping face, trying to memorise your peaceful expression. He never wanted to see you upset ever again, he promised he wouldn’t cause you sadness. The only tears he wanted to see was from the pleasure he gave you “Never stop chasing me. I need you, Puppy.” He whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead and leaning back letting out a content sigh. All he needed was you.

Tag list: @alina02 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @cevansgurl @getwellsoontana

Monstertober Day 8

Careful what you wish for 🕯

Pairing: Incubus!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Initial Somnophilia, dub con, kind of rape, insults/degrading language, biting, scratching, marking, mentions of blood, womb tattoo/sigil, dumbification, aphrodisiac, vibrator, p in v, overstimulation, cunnilingus, demon summoning, beefy!bucky, condescending!Bucky, dark!bucky, praise, fluff

Nicknames: Angel, Doll, sweetness

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: I’m so sorry this is late, I was extremely busy on Halloween with teacher training and university work. But this concludes Monstertober, I have some exciting things planned for November.

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

Candles…You look around your floor surrounded by heaps of softly glowing candles, their flames waning and brightening again and again as the flame danced in the draft of your room. “Check.” you murmured, casting your eyes back to the grimoire’s aged pages; squinting in the darkness of your room trying to see the faded ink more clearly “stupidly complicated pentagram that took me multiple attempts and almost two hours to draw. Check.” You huffed glaring down at the pentagram drawn in white chalk on your floor, the edges smudged ever so slightly from where you’d repeatedly rubbed it away, only to redraw it wrong again. “An offering.” The book had not specified the offering that you had to provide for the demon, it simply said offering in intricate calligraphy “,how very helpful.” Grumbling you crouched to your knees, placing the grimoire down and scooping up your pile of “offerings” depositing them at random in a small circle inside your pentagram. Your offerings, if you could even call them that, consisted of a some loose change you’d found under and behind furniture, some candies you had lying around from halloween that the children hadn’t taken, a lock of your hair and a deeply personal item—which was the only clear instruction in the list, and you had chosen your trusty pink vibrator. Looking at the pink vibe on the floor made you want to crawl out of your skin in embarrassment, but it made the most sense since it was very deeply personal.

You picked the book back up and seated yourself in the centre of the summoning circle, you could feel your heart rate spike as you glanced down at the page for the summoning words. Your hands shook, palms growing cold and sweaty as you began “Heed my call, hear my cry may it lead you to me from your realm far away. I command you to my side so that we may make a contract.” You bite down on your finger drawing blood and swipe it across the floor “See me now and let me see you.” You blow out the candles around you and wait. You gulp as you sit cross legged in the dark, waiting. The sound of your breathing and your blood rushing makes the silence unbearable.

Nothing happens.

After sitting there for five minutes, you climb to your feet defeated. Tears on your waterline as you throw the book to the floor and flop into bed. You felt so stupid for even thinking that something like that would work, you feel the full weight of your adrenaline rush crashing to ground as curl under your covers rocking yourself to sleep s you mentally prepare for the rent payment tomorrow.

The blown out candles relight simultaneously as he steps out of the red swirling portal “You called?” He looked down expecting to see the person who summoned him, but he found the chalk pentagram staring back at him. He bends down, picking up the book you’d thrown harshly to the floor with a frown. He dusts off the grimoire, tracing the embossing in the leather cover with his blackened fingers, turning down the heat of his brimstone skin so the book doesn't burn. From the corner of his eye he catches your body shifting under the covers. He sets the grimoire gently on your chest of drawers and pads over to your bed “Wake up my little sleeping Angel.” He whispers in a gravelly tone, forming an ‘o’ with his reddened lips and blowing a stream of cold air against your ear lobe making you stir. He seats himself on the edge of your bed trailing his hand across your sleeping form “You’re wearing too much for my liking. Let me help you with that.” He threw the covers off of you and turned you more on to your back so he could peel your baggy shirt off, moving as quiet as a mouse. You were left only in a pair of panties, your comfortable pair that you wore when you knew no one would be seeing them, Bucky smiled at them thumbing the fabric adoringly. He ran his fingers across the middle of your panties till a soaking crease was visible. “Already so horny for me, naughty little human.” Bucky pulled down your panties, taking them into his hand to see the clear, sticky proof of your arousal. He tossed the panties already able to smell the thick scent of your arousal, he knew he had to taste you. He dipped his head down, running his tongue through your folds, groaning at the taste of you. He decided there and then he was going to claim you as his. He sucked on his fingers, getting them wet, before inserting them inside of you. Your walls drew him in, clamping so tightly around his fingers that he could barely move them. His hardened cock twitched as he imagined sliding into you, pounding you awake watching as your pleasured cries turned into pleas for him to stop. He had to stop a wicked grin from spreading across his lips. “You’ve been neglected for so long, Pet. Bucky’s gonna change that don’t you worry sweetheart. Who would neglect such a pretty pussy, so fucking tight.” His fingers start to glide through your spasming walls as they adjust to the thickness of his fingers. He targets the spongy spot inside you, debaucherous wet sounds filing the sleepy silence of your room. He paused as a soft mewl left your lips, your body shifting and your fisted hands tightening their hold on your pillow. He continued his ministrations even as your eyes fluttered open and you finally came to, your pleasured babbling pausing. You stared, horrified at the man sitting at the edge of your bed. Your eyes travelled up to the black horns on his head that looked like a ram's horns then down his red eyed that even in the darkness stuck out like a sore thumb, they shone like road studs in headlights stealing your attention before he opened his mouth displaying sharp, white teeth “Thanks for summoning me, Angel. I can see why you needed an incubus. You seem to be very pent up, but I can fix that for you.” His deep melodic voice made the initial stress you felt drift far away. You gaze drops downwards following the muscle of his neck down to the imposing bulk of his shoulders and arms, the rise and fall of his burly chest becoming hypnotising as his scent reaches your nostrils a mix of myrrh and musk that has your head swimming making you completely forget what he said. The feel of his rough palm cupping your cheek anchors you “I said, thank you for summoning me, Angel.”

“I didn’t summon an incubus. You- You have the wrong house.”

“No need to be coy. It’s fine to need a bit of help.”

“No, I genuinely didn’t summon an incubus. I wanted to Summon a demon that could help me. I'm working two jobs, I’m exhausted, the cost of everything is rising and I just can’t anymore. I'm running myself into the ground. I must have summoned the wrong type of demon.”

“Ah, that's Ari’s department. I’d contact him, but he’s a bit busy with a few cultists. So I guess you’re stuck with me for the time being, but I can help you in a different way, Doll.” His other hand reaches to the side of him and heat floods your cheeks as your eyes lock on the pink vibrator he has between his fingers. He pops it into his mouth like a hard candy and sucks it a little before spitting it back into his palm, pressing the button to turn it on “Nice and ready for you.” He chides, slipping his fingers out of your tight heat replacing the emptiness with the warmed, whirling vibrator. You feel your stomach constrict in pleasure as he guides the pink bullet in further with his fingers, positioning it right against your sweet spot. Shooting you a knowing smile as you sob your walls fluttering around his fingers as you convulse “Such a good girl for me, coming all over my fingers.” Bucky coos taking the vibe out from inside you bringing it to the head of his weeping cock moaning as he rubs it against his precum leaking slit, pumping his length with his other ashen hand “Time for you to take me sweetness.” You try to scramble away from him but he was much quicker than you, sensing your fear before it had even registered inside your brain. His warm rough palm seized your thigh pulling you back in position.

“It won’t fit! You’re going to tear me in two. Please can you just forget I summoned you.”

“Oh, Doll, that’s not how this works. You summoned me, I have duties to fulfill and in exchange for said duties I get your soul. I’m not leaving, this will not be forgotten. Regardless, you need to breathe; I’m not going to ‘tear you in two’ that sigil on your womb will make sure of it and make it pleasurable whilst I do. So calm down for me, I don’t like it when humans make my job more difficult than it has to be so behave and you’ll be rewarded.” His threats wrapped up in a sweet tone making it seem as if he wasn’t patronising you. Despite this you began to calm down, wrapping your legs around his hips and controlling your breathing. Your eyes drifted down his muscular torso, focusing on the intricate tattoo like patterns on his skin to relax your mind. The tattoos brought you down to the deep ‘v’ line of his pelvis and back to his veiny member which he was prodding to your entrance. You were pulled out of the trace-like state that his prominent veins had put you in, as he bottomed out in you until your walls were stretched taut around his meaty shaft. He stays still until the burn subsides, watching as your eyes gain a hazy, spaced out glaze and your mouth drops open in an inaudible moan. He pulls out and thrusts so hard into you that your bed scoots under the force, the sound of skin slapping skin echos through your small room as Bucky snaps his hips into you pushing himself deeper and deeper each time, his movements are slow yet rough making you feel every inch of him as he fucks into your tight heat. A surge of heat spread all the way from your hips to the sole of your feet and the tips of your fingers, you felt almost drunk on pleasure, every single thrust of his hips renewing the heat. Your whole body tingles as he presses the vibrator to your clit “God!” You scream as your legs wrapped around his waist begin to shake.

“Oh no sweet little Angel, God isn’t here. In this room, right now, I am your God. You worship me. I give you pleasure.” He purrs, swirling the vibe on your pulsing pearl as he angles the tip of his cock to hit your sweet spot over an over, drawing the orgasm building inside of you to the surface making you cum with a whimpering cry.

The sound of your blood rushing in your ears filled your senses as you came down from your high, even as you came back to your senses you felt much more distanced from reality; your body felt as if it was submerged in a warm bath, and slowly but surely you were sinking below the water. Your break was cut short by Bucky continuing his thrusts, his hand pressing the vibrator to your now throbbing clit didn’t budge—he instead pushed down more harshly on your clit making your legs quake uncontrollably “Hnng! Please!” Was all you could force out before your tongue became useless, lolling out of your mouth. You came again with a shout, clawing Bucky’s back with your nails as you threw your head back into the pillow, your back arching even further into the air. You came so hard you forgot how to breathe, a heavy weight crushing your chest, as you slumped back into the mattress trying your hardest to breathe Bucky finally removed the vibe from your raw little nub. His palm flattened against your stomach where the sigil was placed rubbing a slow circle that set your nerves on fire, before he brought his hand up to the bulge in your stomach and pressed harshly with his thumb tearing a whimper from your throat.

“Fuck you can see me inside of you, Angel. I’m all up in your guts rearranging them. Turning you into the perfect little cock sleeve, gonna make sure I ruin you for any other man. Oh wait, you won't be taking any other man after me. Because; You. Belong. To. Me.” Her punctuated every word with a rough thrust, bashing your cervix which would usually hurt but whatever he did gave you a supreme, otherworldly amount of pleasure “the sigil is almost full, one more orgasm and my seed should be enough to fill it. Do you think you can take it?” He questions a small smile gracing his lips as he awaits your answer, but all you can do is mumble “So fucked out that you can’t even form a sentence, your heads probably so empty right now, my little fuck doll. It’s okay, you don’t need to think, Angel, let me do that for you; can’t expect a dumb little human like you who can’t even read the pages of a very clear, simple book correctly.” His hand slithers up your body towards your neck, wrapping around your throat before he starts to apply pressure—observing as your body begins to melt into the mattress. His thrusts continued and paired with the lack of oxygen bright flashes of white flicker across your vision. All your nerves began to thrum as you felt another orgasm coming, your wall clamped around him as you got closer to the edge. You could feel his cock twitching inside you, he released your neck allowing air to flow back into your lungs as he dipped his head down to your shoulder inking his teeth into your skin. The overwhelming sensations of lightheadedness, pleasure and pain threw your senses into orbit as you came your pussy squeezing his cock as you raked your nails across his back hard enough to draw blood. Bucky gave a few more weak, uncoordinated thrusts before he painted your insides with a wanton moan gripping the pillow hard enough for it to tear. You could barely comprehend your surroundings, you felt as if you were made of air and if Bucky let go of you you’d dissipate. Your heart hammered against your rib cage, as you stared up at Bucky’s handsome face; his sweat darkened hair glued to his forehead. He let out a chuckle, his hand caressing the sigil at your womb “Happy Halloween, Angel. This is the last one you’ll ever have to spend alone. The contract has been made and now, you belong to me. Forever.”

Tag list: @alina02 @winterslove1917 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @getwellsoontana @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @renster05 @redbloodedgurl @shrekwreck @sweetwrathoflilith @cjand10 @flamefoxxrecs @addie5587483 @little-bunny0523 @sojuxxi @adoreyouusugar @teambarnes72 @wintasssoldier @gryffindorqueensworld @aerangi @itwillgetbetter @taramaria @anniellacinamon @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @teddybearsgrr

🎃Lloyd x Reader: Pumpkin carving Drabble🎃

Warnings: knife play, mostly fluff, reader has sensitive ears, hand kink, scent kink, reader being a brat, marking/ hickeys/ biting, implied smut

Nicknames: Pumpkin

A/N: A spooky little treat before the next Monstertober day

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

“How did I let you convince me to do this again, Pumkin?” Lloyd questioned in a huff, he stood in the doorway wearing his tight black turtleneck, which was your favourite, with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his hairy, bulky arms, his vein rippling out of his skin like lightning bolts trailing down to his calloused hands.

“I promised you a reward afterwards.” You giggled passing him a kitchen knife, which he began chucking up and down “Lloyd that’s dangerous.” You warned, he smiled at the concerned look on your face

“I know what I’m doing, Pumpkin.” He threw it up in the air one more time, bumping the handle with his elbow as it fell, catching it with his hand and pointing it towards his pumpkin “You’ve got everything set out so nicely, like a little housewife.” He cooed, pulling you close and placing a kiss on your forehead.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks at his comment. You, a housewife…for him. You liked the idea, you couldn’t deny that; but the way he said, it like his words held so much more meaning behind them. You always loved when he complimented you, it made you feel so special. Nothing else in the world mattered except what Lloyd thought, what Lloyd said—he’d made you completely reliant on him. “L-Let’s get started…That pumpkins yours and this one's mine.” You cursed yourself for stuttering, Lloyd smirked at your brushing his large hand across your forearm before pulling his pumpkin closer to him on the newspaper. You followed suit, picking up your knife and beginning to cut a circle around the stem of the pumpkin—you had much more difficulty than Lloyd as tried to cut through the tough skin of the pumpkin.

“Are you sure you’re allowed to do this?”

“Of course I am! I know how to use a knife, Lloyd. I'm not a child. And then we can make pumpkin bread after this.” You huffed turning away from him and continuing to cut into the pumpkin.

Lloyd grabbed your chin turning you towards him “No, I mean because you’re a pumpkin; so this is murder and cannibalism. I never knew you were so devious, Pumpkin.” You opened your mouth to reply but no words left your mouth, you just stared at him with your mouth hanging open. He let you go and resumed carving his pumpkin, you closed your mouth and returned your own pumpkin, pulling the center out before you began digging out the seeds.

Your gaze drifted over to Lloyd as he held onto the pumpkin with one of his hands, the muscles shifting under his skin as he squeezed the skin of the pumpkin. The golden ring on his pinky finger glimmering in the light catching your attention briefly as you remembered the time he slipped it on to each one of your fingers trying to get it fit “it only fits your thumb, Pumpkin, you’re so tiny compared to me…Don’t worry I'll get you a ring just like this one so we can match.” He did get you a ring to match, it was perfectly tailored to the size of your pinky. Your eyes travelled up his arms, watching as his biceps tensed whilst he used a spoon to scoop out some of the pumpkins innards. You had to look away to stop yourself from drooling, Lloyd knew you were watching. He was taking his time on purpose, squeezing the firm outside of the pumpkin and intermittently letting out a soft grunt to toy with you. He loved to see the way you practically salivated over him—he always knew you adored his hands, his scent, his eyes, his body. He knew The parts you liked about him so he abused your weaknesses just to be able to watch you stumble over your words; just last week he caught you spraying some of his new cologne on one of his hoodies you’d stolen, so he instantly bought more of it. Lloyd broke the silence “I’m all up in this pumpkin's guts. Kinda like I was last night with you-“ You pout grabbing some of the mashed up pumpkin and throwing it at him “Hey! No throwing the pumpkin. God, it smells so bad.” His face contorts into disgust as he wipes it off his black turtleneck grimacing at the texture and wetness as he throws it on to the newspaper-clad counter.

You giggle, letting a devious smile spread across your lips “Then don’t be such a perv, we’re meant to be doing a wholesome activity for once.” You cross your arms and arch an eyebrow at him.

“There’s nothing wholesome about the way you were looking at my hands, Pumpkin, don’t think I didn’t see you.” Your face heats up in embarrassment and without thinking you smear your pumpkin covered hands across his stupid attractive face “Oh that’s it!” Lloyd picked up the knife he’d been using to carve the pumpkin and hovers it underneath your chin, gently gliding the blade against the delicate soft skin of your throat, the juice of the pumpkin on the knife leaving a sticky trail “I’ve played nice for long enough, now it’s time to have fun. You like that idea don’t you, Pumpkin? Your thighs are clenching. I decided to be nice and play along with your desire to carve pumpkins, and you return the favour by being a brat.” He leans down to your ear, his hot breath fanning at the sensitive skin “Good thing I like it when you’re a brat.” He whispers, rubbing the bristles of his moustache against the shell of your ear, relishing in the whine that escapes from your lips as he sucks on your earlobe. He knows it’s sensitive, he’s teasing you. You wipe your hands on the tea towel you’d set out and then rest your now clean hands on his shoulders for support as he continues to attack your sensitive ears. Lloyd moves down from your ear to your neck, licking a stripe from your jaw to clavicle. He settled at your collar bone, suckling at the thin skin and running it through his teeth. You buried your fingers in his cropped hair, fiddling with the styled top till strands of his hair were falling onto his forehead in curls.

You rub your thighs together, relishing in the friction, as he drags the knife down your neck to your torso, pressing harder so you can feel the blade through the crew neck of his that you were wearing. He drew crescents beneath reach of your breast before travelling further down. Lloyd pressed hot opened mouth kisses to your throat as he bunched the sweater at your hips “Only panties? How naughty.” Lloyd purred, sucking a hickey into your neck.

He ran the cool blade of the knife along your thigh, bringing it ever so close to the apex of your hips tracing your folds with the blunt side of the blade before running it back up your torso, across your chest and back to your neck; outlining your collar bones then your trachea and settling just below your jaw. He stared down at you, you swore those eyes could see into the depth of your soul. You followed the slate outer ring that faded into a bright blue—one glance into those eyes made any bad day better. His pink lips curved into a smile and he pulled the knife away from your throat, raising the blade in the air threateningly.

Lloyd stabbed the knife into his pumpkin and then picked you up, your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck. He gave you a quick kiss “We’ll finish carving later, I want my reward now.” He kissed you again, but this time he deepened it; slipping his tongue into your mouth intertwining it with yours before catching your bottom lip with his teeth and tugging at it “What do you say, Pumpkin? Want me to be all up in your guts?”

‘I’d like that.” You titter as he strides with you up the stairs towards the bedroom. Pumpkin carving will have to wait after all.

Tag list: @cevansgurl @bval-1 @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @flamefoxxrecs @sojuxxi @adoreyouusugar @gryffindorqueensworld @aerangi @itwillgetbetter @taramaria

Thanatosis 🦋

Part 1 : Holometabolous metamorphosis🦋

thanatosis- commonly known as ‘playing dead’ or tonic immobility, is a protective behaviour of animals and insects in which all voluntary activity is ceased and posture suggesting death is assumed. it occurs when disturbed.

Pairing: soft! Mafia! Biker! Bucky x innocent! victim! reader → dark! Mean! Mafia Biker! Bucky

Warnings: Non con, Stockholm syndrome, victim blaming (reader blames themselves), crying, pleading, abandonment issues, alcohol, name calling, dark!Bucky, mean!Bucky, Beefy!Bucky, innocent!reader, manipulation, abuse, bruises (not the kinky kind), thoughts of suicide, dacryphilia, punching, slapping, mentions of blood, heavy angst, fluff (at one point then it’s downhill from there)

Nicknames: бабочка (butterfly), stupid, ugly, worthless, whore, dumb, crybaby

The relationship depicted is not healthy at all. If you are experiencing a situation similar to this, please contact an abuse hotline, womens shelter or your doctor who can get you help. Stay safe.

༻ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐀𝐬𝐤𝐬 ༺

I am where I belong. My eyes drift open. I’m not on the floor. I’m not in my apartment, my cocoon. Instead I run my hand over fresh, expensive iron coloured sheets, I smell the air. Musky magnolia wood. I tap next to me, the bed is empty. But it’s warm. I swivel my head anxiously, but I’m alone. I plant my hands either side of me and push myself up, the world around me is fuzzy and my head buzzes painfully. I’m not dead. He saved me. He loves me. I need him.

The door clicks open, and in walks Bucky holding a cup of coffee. His sculpted jaw is set in a solemn expression, but his lips pull into a smile when his eyes meet mine “бабочка you're awake.” His voice is hoarse and just above a whisper, he sounds as if he’s been crying. He cautiously steps forward, scanning his eyes over me for any movement. I throw the cover off and practically leap off the bed “please, doll, I won’t hurt you. I should have never come near you whilst I was like that, I become a completely different person.” His reasoning stops as I limp around the bed and attach myself to his leg. He places the coffee down and attempts to remove me, but my grip tightens on his thick calf and my sobs grow louder as I let out incoherent pleads for him to stay. For him to never leave me again, promises that I would be good, I would be better, I would be whatever he needs, that I was stupid, that I was forever his.

We sit there for what feels like forever, on the carpeted floor. He rocks me back and forth gently, trying to console me, trying to stop my pleas. I do stop eventually, when he strokes my hair and holds me in his arms like a small child; whispering sweet nothings to me apologising like a prayer, his salty tears dripping down on to my face joining my snot and tears that leak on to the fresh clothes he’d put me in. He tries to wipe at the damp spot, but I nuzzle further into him, body weak, tiny next to his, shaking like a tree in a hurricane holding on to him for stability “I’m going to be better to you бабочка. You didn’t deserve that, okay? It wasn’t good, it wasn’t what you deserved; you’re precious I need to protect you my beautiful, beautiful fragile little butterfly.” His butterfly…I’ve always been his butterfly he thinks I’m beautiful he wants to protect me, my fresh wings are still unfurling. I’ve been born a new from my cocoon and now my life begins with Bucky. Bucky is good, I belong to Bucky “Are you okay now бабочка?” He asked, his face full of concern as I stared helplessly up at him, my eyes puffy, full of tears and face red nodding slowly. He stoops his neck and kisses me with all the tenderness and passion that was void from last night. The coldness that had seeped into my bones from being abandoned on my glum, dingy bathroom floor began to subside as Bucky’s tongue explored my mouth with his hot tongue. His kisses had always made me breathless, but now his hypnotising effect was doubled. I craved him so intensely.

I grabbed at his grey crew neck with my small hands, rubbing the fabric between my fingers as I pulled him even closer “Bucky.” I mewled, breaking gtg kiss and buryin fly face in the crook of his neck taking in his musky scent.

“I’ll never hurt you again бабочка, I promise you.”

It had been days since I’d first woken up in his bed and now it was an everyday occurance, he’d decided he didn’t want me staying in my apartment anymore, citing the bad memories and how depressing the space was as his reason. The past few days had been the best, he had cuddled with me on the couch continuously—wrapping me in soft blankets, kissing me constantly, always touching me in some way. Always praising me. Always telling me how much he loved me. He had to go out tonight to meet with the members of the gang, he told me not to call it that; he constantly says they’re not gangsters— though the whole of Brooklyn and the people he hangs out with would say otherwise. He wants to protect me, not to scare me…so thoughtful I remark.

The front door slams shut, I hear the sound of Bucky’s keys being tossed into the bowl on the chest of draws near the door. I turn off the TV, slip out of my cocoon of blankets and head for the door to see Bucky, pure adoration in my eyes. He’s kicking off his shoes, he looks up to see me and there is none of the usual warmth in his face. Blood is dripping from his temple, he has a cut across the bridge of his nose and his hair is dark and wet with sweat. His hands are trembling. No they’re thrumming. He’s furious, his breath is ragged like an animal sizing up its prey. His flame is burning brighter, harsher, hotter than ever. The adoration slips away. “бабочка. Come here.” He commands in a growl, I’m frozen staring at him like a deer in headlights. The smell of whiskey and a blend of other alcoholic beverages reaches my noses causing it to rinkle, he’s been drinking again. He promised not to “бабочка! I said come here are you FUCKING DEAF YOU WHORE?” He bellowed as he threw his suit jacket to the wooden floor. I took off down the hall to the bathroom, the only room with a lock. He caught up with me easily, slamming my head into the door as my hands desperately shook the knob trying to get it open. The pain from the impact sent shockwaves of dull pain across my nerves and caused white dots, dripping with colour to blot my vision. The door swung open and Bucky crashed into the floor, I clung to the door. I can lock him in. I pulled the door closed, but his fingers wrapped around it trying to pry it open as I was shutting it. I smashed his fingers in the door frame and he howled in response, using all of his strength—which was much more than mine—to slam the door into the wall. I’d failed, my only chance to get away. My face heated up tears blurring my vision as my lip wobbled pathetically just like my legs. They were jelly below me.

“No Bucky. No.” I cried fighting against his tight grip on my forearm, scratching at his face. He bit down on my finger. I screamed as he pushed me to the ground.

“Bedroom or here Bitch?” He asked lacing his fingers into my hair as I pummelled at his knees “FUCKING ANSWER ME!” Bucky demanded tugging at my hair enough to tear out strands. I yelp and weep in response, digging my nails into his forearm. Clawing at him. Begging for him to let me go “Fine. We’re doing it here.” He huffed releasing my hair and shoving my head into the ground. I was laying half way between the hallway and the bathroom, I tried to crawl away. Raking my nails across the wood, the awful scratching sound drowned by the deafening thump of my blood rushing past my ears. He grabbed my legs, bending them at the knee and pushing them painfully till the ball of my heels dug into my butt. He pressed harder into my bent legs as he draped himself over me, pressing his face to my ear, the beginnings of scruff on his jaw scratching the shell of my ear. “Try to get away and I’ll snap your little legs like chopsticks.” He threatened, spitting in my face as he rose back up, tearing my shirt in half and throwing it. I began to sob as he let me lay there helplessly on the ground, splayed out like a starfish on the beach. He tore my underwear as well, tossing the torn fabric carelessly like a used rag. I choked out painful sobs, as a tangle of cries and pleas ached in my throat trying to crawl out of my open, dribbling mouth. He shoved his fingers inside me roughly, causing a burn to radiate through me. It was so dry down there. He scissored his fingers twice before giving up and spitting on his cock, pumping his hand across his length a few times. That’s when the last sparks of adrenaline kicked in. I kicked him where it hurt, he yowled in agony as my foot connected with his balls. I clumsily got to my feet, pain shooting through my legs with every floundering step. I clung to the wall limping towards the front door. It was so close. I could fly free.

The flame burnt my wings. His fist connected with my temple and I collided with the oak wood, I traced the wood grain with my finger as my thoughts faded away. It’s Hopeless, like me. He turned me over and my unfocused eyes met his intense dark glare, his eyes were verging on black as his blue iris was swallowed by his insatiable black holes of pupils. The punches began. He pounded my stomach ruthlessly, then he threw a jab at my already bruised ribs, the metallic taste of iron rose in my throat and I coughed. Blood and spit smeared on my chin. He moved up to my face, slapping it over and over with the front and back of his hand—at least he isn’t wearing rings today— is the only thing that came to mind as I wordlessly let him hit, slap and scream. He soon got bored of it, the only thing that entertained him was the silent tears that streaked down my cheeks. He lapped at them like an animal; the heat of his tongue stinging my cheeks that he’d just finished slapping. I am where I belong. I am where I belong. IAMWHEREIBELONG. I try to reassure myself, the chant in my head almost overpowered the sound of his grunts and groans as he entered me. I broke my silence letting out a high pitched wail as he sheathed himself fully inside. I still couldn’t move. My body was frozen in place, my limbs felt as if they were pinned down by sandbags as I futilely tried to lift them. He continued his thrusts “Scream for me бабочка. Cry for me бабочка. You look so pretty when you cry, my little crybaby.” He chuckled as he cooed and ran his hand across my tear stained cheek. They way he said it sounded as if he was praising me, as if he wasn’t raping me in the hallway. As if my blood wasn’t the only thing making him slick enough to thrust. As if he wasn’t burning me. He promised he wouldn’t do this again. But the cycle repeats again.

Maybe I deserve this. He cares for you. My thoughts are disturbed by a distant voice. He loves you so much, this is what love looks like. He loves our wings, he burns us so beautifully. We can’t survive without him. We need Bucky.

His moans disturb my thoughts, he’s close I feel his cock twitch inside me. I let out a stifled sob “please stop.” My begging came out in a voice so small that it could be confused with the blowing of this wind, but he heard me. How could he not? He’s been staring intently at my face waiting for me to say something, anything, whilst he splits me open. His lips twitch into a smile as he picks up the pace earning a sob from my lips. His nails dig into the scabs from before, tearing them open causing blood to leak down my sides. I begin to regain feeling and the pain is atrocious. The white hot pain from where we are connected makes me try to reach out and grab him, pins and needles stab at the muscles in my arms as I begin to flail. I want to die. The pain is excruciating. Every part of my brain screams at me to get away from him. Stupid little moth. I curse. You flew too close to the flame and now look at you, pinned beneath him being fucked like a rag doll. Stupid, ugly, worthless little moth.

Maybe this is death, this is what death feels like. Painful until it’s not. Full of sadness until it’s not. Until it’s nothing but a dark hellscape to replace this hellscape. If I am dying I want it to be now, before he cums in me, before his warmth fills me. I want to die. I want to be an insignificant, little moth living my days chasing the brightest lamp; until I can curl up on some shitty windowsill and die, body stiff and useless—thrown in the trash or out a window. Or maybe this isn’t death, maybe I’m already dead and this is limbo, my own personal train platform before I get my ticket to heaven or hell. Maybe metamorphosis really did turn my fucking brain to soup, idiotic moth.

Give in to him. The pain will go away if you give in. The voice calls again, but this time I listen, closing my aching, heavy eyelids and the world around me fades.

And now I am where I belong. I thought I had completed metamorphosis before, how naive I was. As I sit upon his lap, head empty aside from the thought of Bucky, as he absent mindedly thrusts himself into me during his meeting. I suck at his neck, soaking in his scent. Babbling his name, moaning. Now my brain is soup seasoned by thoughts of him. Only him. I’m not dying, my life has only just started. He freed me from my cocoon because he loves me, he loves my wings, I’m his pretty moth. The cycle will repeat again, but for now I know that I am where I belong, with Bucky. I am his play thing, everything he does shows me he loves me. I’m just stupid, I need him to protect me. His flame burns me so sweetly. Without him I’ll die, he keeps me warm. The bruises hurt to remind me to be good, that he knows what’s best for me because I am where I belong.

My Monstertober Day 1 fic: Big Bad Wolf has now been hit with a community label, please ensure your setting are changed so you can view it. I hope I don’t run into this again.

hey so tumblr just added this thing (community labels) and by default ALL these category filters are set to remove anything labelled with these from your feed entirely (not just blurred).

Please remember to go into your settings and adjust them to what you prefer! if you're under 18, you won't be able to adjust them as they are set to Hide until you turn 18

this is what it looks like in settings (i have everything set to Show, the default is Hidden)