What's a cutie like you doing in a graveyard like this? You looking for a good time? I'm sure I can find something you'll like.😉
About Me:
My name is Zombie (she/they) and I run this little section of Tumblr. You won't know if I'm following you or not because this is a side-blog. And all asks from are on Anon, but I will sign my name to them.
I do some writing, here and there. Currently the majority of my writing is for CEvans and SStan characters, though Cavill and Hiddleston are quickly climbing the ranks. I've also got a smattering of other characters that I'd love to write more for if I get the time/interest.
You can find my masterlist here.
Warnings:
This is an 18+, NSFW, Minors DNI blog.
I am relatively human and, therefore, prone to mistakes.
If you send an ask, I'm unlikely to answer it right away, especially if it's a request for a story.
I reserve the right to not answer every ask sent my way.
I do not interact with blogs that do not have some indication of age. I am not willing to risk interacting with a minor.
Rules:
Don't be an asshole. Kindness is incredibly important.
Don't have a blank blog. I will likely block you.
Don't spam my ask box. As stated above, it can take a while to answer these things. Please be patient with me.
No celebrity gossip or the like, please. I'm just interested in characters, not actors.
Other than that, welcome to my little graveyard. Hope you have a fun time, cutie.
Asking for touch as an aspec is so weird like “hey, please touch me, but not in a sex/romance way, just in a human contact way. Interact with my body’s touchscreens. Punch me in the face or something. Please. I’ll take anything at this point.”
Edit: of course everyone here has blanket permission to tag this as Blorbo from their Shows. We love seeing representation, implicit or explicit.
Warnings: Explicit Content, Minors DNI, 18+, FwB hook up, Friends to lovers, PiV Sex, Smut
Words: 298 words
A/N: Entry for June Jukebox Scribbles over @societynsoelsscribbles
Prompt: June 9th - “Well, you said that we would still be friends”
Johnny groaned, his breath hot against your neck as he slid deep inside you.
His skin was radiating a feverish, supernatural heat that made your insides feel like they were melting around his cock.
"We're still friends, right?" he rasped, his voice strained and husky. He paused for a second, his chest heaving against your breasts, hips grinding into yours.
You let out a shaky breath, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you arched your back.
"Well... you said that we would still be friends," you countered, your voice trembling from the friction.
A smirk played on his lips, a flash of that classic Johnny Storm arrogance blending with raw desire.
"Oh, totally," he whispered. He shifted his weight, his voice dropping. "I mean, friends do this kinda thing all the time, right?"
The joke was the catalyst.
Johnny didn't wait for an answer; he gripped your hips with bruising force and slammed back into you, driving his cock deep and hitting that precise spot that made your vision blur.
“Yes.” The word coming any way as your head snapped back against the pillows. “All the time.”
“Good.” He sounded as ruined as you did before he thrust harder, a loud, guttural moan escaping your throat as your walls clenched violently around him, milking him in a tight, desperate grip.
Fuck it
You reached up, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down into a hard, your tongues clashing with the same intensity as your bodies.
More
You pushed your hips back hard into his, meeting every thrust with a frantic energy, no longer caring about the boundaries or how messy this ‘friendship’ was about to get.
All that mattered was the feeling of him filling you completely as you both spiralled into the heat.
A/N: Written for the June Jukebox Scribbles. Prompt: “I know you like what you see”
Word Count: 298
One benefit of being a personal fitness trainer was access to the gym equipment. Hal was always good about keeping himself in top form so he could help people. The plus sized clients were always incredibly nervous about hurting him, despite his reassurances. It always tokk a demonstration, him moving or catching clients, for them to become more confident in their movements, and less nervous that their size would be a problem.
He also knows he's good for business. Maybe not "free" advertising, but close to it. When he worked out, especially without his shirt on, more people would come into the gym, either to see more of him or to mimic him. Hal's dreams of being an actor may have gone awry, but whenever he feels the need to put on a performance, to be surrounded by admirers, he's got quite the outlet.
A pretty lady gets close and Hal knows she's probably new around here. The regulars know the rules: no touching, no flirting. Not with him. Hal makes a point of avoiding eye contact with her and she seems to take it as a challenge.
"Sir," she bats her eyelashes, "do you think you could help me with this machine?"
Hal stops his workout and smiles softly at her. "Listen, I know you like what you see, but I'm taken."
Her cheeks turn pink with embarrassment and she apologizes, backing off.
Hal's grateful she isn't doubling down like others have. He has no problem telling flirts how they just don't compare to you. How they'll never be as wonderful, beautiful, intelligent, and perfect as you are for him. He might like attention, but you're the only one allowed to do more than look. A small sacrifice for the honor of getting to be with you.
A/N: Written for Sexy September Scribbles. September 14: “You’re going to make me come again”
A/N2: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.
"Oh, yes! Right there, right there!" you cry as Nick's fingers find another of your favorite spots. "You're going to make me come again!"
He smirks as he applies just the right pressure and makes you see stars.
"Fuck you're gorgeous," he praises, his voice hoarse with need.
"You're just saying that because you get to touch me," you tease, catching your breath.
Nick removes his fingers from your cunt and smiles. "I'm proud of you."
"What do you mean?"
Nick maneuvers himself on top of you, his cock lined up with your pussy.
"Because you finally admit, it's my privilege to get to touch your gorgeous body. That I get to touch your beautiful form." He fills your pussy in a single thrust, making you cry out. "That it is my pleasure to get you making those incredible noises."
He moves his hips and your brain struggles to fight the pleasure so it can solve his riddle.
"No, no, angel. No thinking allowed when I'm inside you," he purrs. "Especially when you've finally seen that you're worthy of being worshiped properly."
His pace increases and you start moaning and moving your hips to match.
"I tell you you're gorgeous because you are, not because I am allowed to touch you," Nick continues. "And I am forever grateful for your mercy in allowing me to touch you. Allowing me to make you fall apart on my cock. Letting me put you back together again."
You come again, wrapping your legs around Nick's torso and pushing him further into you and let's himself fill your hungry pussy.
A/N: Written for the June Jukebox Scribbles. Prompt:“I feel a premonition”
Word Count: 197
James had been in the field often enough that he could sense when something was off. He could never explain it beyond, "I feel a premonition." It was like a sixth sense telling him a predator was stalking, a venomous snake was in the vicinity, a thief is going for his wallet.
He'd hoped that being with you would help him calm his nerves, and it did. For a bit. But when your companionship turned into something romantic, his nerves picked up again. He was scared to lose you. He needed to protect you. He couldn't relax until he knew you were safe.
The only time he could rest, give his nervous system a break, was when he was in your arms. You held him with such gentle strength it was easy to melt into your touch. Your hands gently rubbing up and down his back helped ground him. Nuzzling your face against him tells him he's wanted, appreciated. He feels safe.
Your apartment is his sanctuary. Your arms are his reprieve. When you're with him, there is nothing he needs to focus on outside of you.
And he'll love you forever for that feeling of safety.
A/N: Written for the June Jukebox Scribbles. Prompt:“I feel a premonition”
Word Count: 197
James had been in the field often enough that he could sense when something was off. He could never explain it beyond, "I feel a premonition." It was like a sixth sense telling him a predator was stalking, a venomous snake was in the vicinity, a thief is going for his wallet.
He'd hoped that being with you would help him calm his nerves, and it did. For a bit. But when your companionship turned into something romantic, his nerves picked up again. He was scared to lose you. He needed to protect you. He couldn't relax until he knew you were safe.
The only time he could rest, give his nervous system a break, was when he was in your arms. You held him with such gentle strength it was easy to melt into your touch. Your hands gently rubbing up and down his back helped ground him. Nuzzling your face against him tells him he's wanted, appreciated. He feels safe.
Your apartment is his sanctuary. Your arms are his reprieve. When you're with him, there is nothing he needs to focus on outside of you.
And he'll love you forever for that feeling of safety.
Summary: bucky braids his daughter's hair before he has to go away on a mission. [WC 254] [Ao3]
Warnings: fluff with a HINT of angst, OC!Daughter named Kobalt
A/N: originally posted to a very old blog in 2016. located, and am now posting it again after editing it. any mistakes, lmk. Otherwise, please remember to reblog!
The sounds of a child giggling was heard throughout the apartment as the small child ran away from her father. “Oh, come on,” Bucky pleaded, though he was smiling. “Kobalt, come on,” he continued chasing her through the apartment, almost cornering her in the bathroom before she ran between the opening of his legs. He let out a huff of breath before chasing her once more to her bedroom.
She was jumping excitedly, sticking out her tongue at Bucky. “Daddy, you’re old!” She squealed as he grabbed her by the legs and pinned her to the bed before tickling her sides. “Daddy, daddy! Stop it!” She cried out through her laughter.
“Is Kobalt gonna be good for daddy?” He asked, mock-stern.
She nodded and sat up, turning to face the wall so he could continue fixing her hair in french braids.
“Mamma’s gonna be picking you up after school, okay?” He asked carefully as he pulled the braid tight to her head.
“Are you going away again, daddy?” She asked as she turned to face him, her big brown eyes shining with sadness.
He sighed. He hated disappointing her. “I’ll only be gone a week this time, doll face.”
“Promise?” She asked as she jumped away from the bed and ran to retrieve her schoolbag.
“Promise,” he said as she put her small hand in his. “And when I come back, I’ll take you to Auntie Nat’s, okay?”
She jumped in joy and skipped down the hall once Bucky closed the door behind them.
A/N: Written for the June Jukebox Scribbles. Prompt: “I know you like what you see”
Word Count: 298
One benefit of being a personal fitness trainer was access to the gym equipment. Hal was always good about keeping himself in top form so he could help people. The plus sized clients were always incredibly nervous about hurting him, despite his reassurances. It always tokk a demonstration, him moving or catching clients, for them to become more confident in their movements, and less nervous that their size would be a problem.
He also knows he's good for business. Maybe not "free" advertising, but close to it. When he worked out, especially without his shirt on, more people would come into the gym, either to see more of him or to mimic him. Hal's dreams of being an actor may have gone awry, but whenever he feels the need to put on a performance, to be surrounded by admirers, he's got quite the outlet.
A pretty lady gets close and Hal knows she's probably new around here. The regulars know the rules: no touching, no flirting. Not with him. Hal makes a point of avoiding eye contact with her and she seems to take it as a challenge.
"Sir," she bats her eyelashes, "do you think you could help me with this machine?"
Hal stops his workout and smiles softly at her. "Listen, I know you like what you see, but I'm taken."
Her cheeks turn pink with embarrassment and she apologizes, backing off.
Hal's grateful she isn't doubling down like others have. He has no problem telling flirts how they just don't compare to you. How they'll never be as wonderful, beautiful, intelligent, and perfect as you are for him. He might like attention, but you're the only one allowed to do more than look. A small sacrifice for the honor of getting to be with you.
🧚🏻♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now (if you feel inspired) you must share a hoe thot about: CE!babe + mesmerized by your scent (maybe with some primal chase kink thrown in 👀)
Oh my lord, Siri! I know I talked to you about this in DMs, but then I decided to be really indulgent. Cause who wants to decide?
Pairing: Andy Barber x Female Reader, side of Ari Levinson x Reader and Curtis Everett x Reader
Word Count: 460
Summary: He catches a scent in the air.
Warnings: Barely Edited, Stalking/Hunting, Soft Dark/Dark Vibes, Omegaverse, Scents, Dubious Consent. Minors do not interact (18+).
Follow @foxglovefics and sign up for notifications for when I post if you wanna be in the know.
Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age or if you are uncomfortable with the pairing, themes, dynamics, or warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Thank you!
It hit him as he was walking through the Hallmark store, buying a stupid birthday present for some random person in the office. He was grumbling to himself, and then you were there. Not in person, no. But your scent. Drifting through the air conditioned breeze and stealing all sense from his system. A switch flicked.
His alpha demanded, and he was happy to comply.
Even with the bustling mall, crowds of people darting and perusing, he doesn’t lose your scent. Following past storefronts—even those that waft obnoxious colognes out their doors—and the food court—with the smell of food flooding the air. Your trail leads him to you.
He wonders if you know. If you sense him. The predator on your tail. Stalking after you on the hunt.
He pauses in front of the sporting goods store. Ari and Curtis exiting as he approaches. A wild, feral look in each of his packmate’s eyes. But they find him in the crowd. Without a word, joining him on his search to find you.
Three pairs of eyes scan their surroundings. Their combined instincts goading them on.
They find you in the parking garage. The breeze changing. Your scent still lingering. But they see you. The tension in your shoulders. The shiver of your figure. Your quick steps and swinging gaze. Looking for them as much as they’re looking for you. Distress sours your scent. Your feet scurry. Pace rapid as you try to get to the safety of your car. You know. You can feel them, smell them.
He and his packmates continue their pursuit.
A nod to the side separates them. Their formation fanning out. Corralling you wherever you’re going.
You shove your key into the door of your car, hands shaking, nearly fumbling them. Scratches form on the handle with your missed attempts. But then it notches in the lock and you nearly breathe a sigh of relief.
He’s at your back before you can. You whip around, pathetic growl rolling in your throat. His lips tilt in a smirk.
“No need for that, omega,” he says, holding up a hand to dismiss the sound. Ari and Curtis come into his periphery. Ari’s eyes softening at the growl in your throat, Curtis’ eyes hungry.
You’re too focused on him to notice. And he steps forward, crowding you into the cool metal of your car.
“Easy now,” he coos in a whisper just for you. One hand raises to cup your cheek, your eyes widening at the touch. “It’s nice to meet you.” Your scent fills his nose—even tainted as it is by your fear. “That’s Ari and Curtis,” he introduces with a nod to each at his side, “and I’m Andy. We’re your new alphas.”
A/N: Reader is female, nickname Heart. No physical descriptors used.
A/N2: Written for the June Jukebox Scribbles. Prompt: “No I can't promise that I won't do that”
Word Count: 284
Main Story
Curtis texted that he was in the parking lot and you quickly tell your supervisor you're going on break. You practically ran out to the parking lot where Curtis was there to greet you with a box of cookies and, in his jacket, an adorable black kitten peeking out.
"Oh my gosh! She's too cute!" you squee before giving Curtis a small kiss.
"Almost as cute as you," he beams. "She seems to like hiding out in my jacket but she's also on a leash, just to be safe."
"Very smart," you nod as you give the little kitten chin scritches. "Isn't he, Soot? Isn't he just so smart?"
Soot doesn't reply but she does lean in to your touch.
"I think she likes you," Curtis coos.
"Well my nails are nicer than yours," you playfully retort.
"Hmmm, I dunno," he teases.
"Let me show you," you smirk.
Reaching out your other hand you start scratching Curtis' chin as gently as you are Soot's. Almost instantly his brain short-circuits. It's like you're scratching an itch he didn't know he had. He leans into your touch and lets out a small moan.
"See?" you giggle, trying to hide how his moaning affects you.
"I will never doubt the superiority of your touch ever again," he vows. "Promise me you'll never stop?"
"No, I can't promise I won't do that," you laugh.
"What about for Soot?"
"Soot can get all the scritches she wants, of course!"
"That's not fair," he pouts playfully. "But, I suppose she is cuter so I can understand."
"If it helps, you get kisses."
Placing a chaste, but meaningful kiss on Curtis' lips he gently holds you close.
I love you, crowsfeet; I love you, gray hairs; I love you, sun spots; I love you, smile lines; I love you, crinkle between my eyebrows; I love you, crooked smile; I love you, visible signs of a life lived
A/N: Written for the June Jukebox Scribbles. Prompt:“I feel a premonition”
Word Count: 197
James had been in the field often enough that he could sense when something was off. He could never explain it beyond, "I feel a premonition." It was like a sixth sense telling him a predator was stalking, a venomous snake was in the vicinity, a thief is going for his wallet.
He'd hoped that being with you would help him calm his nerves, and it did. For a bit. But when your companionship turned into something romantic, his nerves picked up again. He was scared to lose you. He needed to protect you. He couldn't relax until he knew you were safe.
The only time he could rest, give his nervous system a break, was when he was in your arms. You held him with such gentle strength it was easy to melt into your touch. Your hands gently rubbing up and down his back helped ground him. Nuzzling your face against him tells him he's wanted, appreciated. He feels safe.
Your apartment is his sanctuary. Your arms are his reprieve. When you're with him, there is nothing he needs to focus on outside of you.
And he'll love you forever for that feeling of safety.
A/N: Written for the June Jukebox Scribbles. Prompt:“I feel a premonition”
Word Count: 197
James had been in the field often enough that he could sense when something was off. He could never explain it beyond, "I feel a premonition." It was like a sixth sense telling him a predator was stalking, a venomous snake was in the vicinity, a thief is going for his wallet.
He'd hoped that being with you would help him calm his nerves, and it did. For a bit. But when your companionship turned into something romantic, his nerves picked up again. He was scared to lose you. He needed to protect you. He couldn't relax until he knew you were safe.
The only time he could rest, give his nervous system a break, was when he was in your arms. You held him with such gentle strength it was easy to melt into your touch. Your hands gently rubbing up and down his back helped ground him. Nuzzling your face against him tells him he's wanted, appreciated. He feels safe.
Your apartment is his sanctuary. Your arms are his reprieve. When you're with him, there is nothing he needs to focus on outside of you.
And he'll love you forever for that feeling of safety.
