#WHAT IF I PULLED MY TEETH / CUT MY HAIR UNDERNEATH MY CHIN ? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gold-onthe-inside · 1 month ago

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gingerbread kisses

who? spencer reid (s4) x bau!reader

summary: your first christmas as a couple with spencer involves baking, construction, and lots and lots of kisses

word count: 1.9k

content warnings: oral (f receiving), spencer calls r 'sweet girl', minors dni

"Yours looks so much better than mine," you whined, looking over at Spencer's gingerbread house, perfectly cut panels holding together to form a house while yours sagged at an angle.

"It's not that bad," he replied, if only to make you feel better and shifted closer to see if he could fix the angle of it, and you peered over his shoulder, watching his nimble fingers carefully adjust the panels, reapplying icing like it was glue. "There," Spencer said, pulling his hands away... and then it sagged lower and he frowned at it, puzzled, and you stifled a giggle against his shoulder at his utter confusion. Your nose pressed into his soft woollen sweater, arms wrapping around him. "Maybe if I--"

"Just leave it," you told him, kissing his cheek, your lip balm sticky against his warm skin. Even now, 6 months into dating, his cheeks flushed at your kiss, and he looked down at you, chasing your lips, his hands finding your cheeks, fingers equally sticky with icing. It was always so earnest, filled with as much longing as the first time you'd kissed him. He doesn’t want to let go when he pulls away, but then there's a streak of icing on your cheek and he can't help a wince.

"Sorry," he said, oblivious to your dazed look, moving to wipe his hands and you let out another soft groan of protest at the loss of him, only for him to come back to gently wipe your cheeks clean. "Can I tell you something?" he asked, looking at you intently.

"Always," you replied with your sweet smile and adoring gaze.

"This is the best Christmas I've ever had," he said, putting the cloth away, and you wished you could express how much you loved him in this moment, but you've never been as articulate with your affection as him. So you do what you know best; you tugged him closer, kissing him. You could live in this moment forever, his lips on yours, sitting on the floor of your apartment. Spencer pressed you back against the couch, his hands seeking your jaw, his tongue darting to your lower lip. He's always careful with you, slow and thoughtful, his thumb gently angling your chin higher.

You parted your lips, his tongue languidly exploring your mouth. His hand carefully slid down your neck, his thumb finding your pulse and he broke for breath, placing warm gentle kisses along your soft jaw. "My sweet girl," he murmured, reaching your ear. "I could do this forever."

Your heart fluttered the way it always did. He’d called you his since the beginning, sweet girl. He’d say it often, a gentle declaration of his affection. His hand slid down, thumb tracing the collar of your sweater, his face buried in your neck as he left his own mark on you, teeth grazing gently against the soft skin and your breath hitched. “God, Spence…” He felt you shift underneath him, already overwhelmed by his touch. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging a little when he mouthed at your neck. One of his hands rests on your hip, his thumb brushing the skin under your sweater.

He couldn’t help himself. You felt so warm and soft, so lovely wrapped in his arms. He pushed your sweater up gently, baring more of your skin, his touch warm, and light. He could spend hours just tracing his fingers across your skin. You tasted sweet, like sugar and vanilla, and he shifted, adjusting to slide between your legs. You tilted your head back, looking up at him, your eyes slightly unfocused, lips parted with your heavy breaths. His head dipped, mouth leaving marks along your neck as he pushed your sweater up again, just over your ribs, your breath stuttering as his teeth grazed over the sensitive skin. Your hand fisted in his sweater, a needy whisper escaping you, "Spencer..."

"Let me take care of you," he murmured against your shoulder, pushing your sweater high enough for you to wordlessly lift your arms so he could toss it to one side, and he needed to catch his breath as he looked down at you. He’d seen you a hundred times before, all those soft smooth curves, your soft sighs and breathless gasps that he lived for. You were so trusting in his arms, the way your fingers threaded through his hair, your back arching when his mouth found your stomach, kissing reverently at your soft skin. “So perfect,” he murmured.

You don't have the brainpower to spare to respond with anything other than his name, said so many times that it should have lost its meaning by now, but it never does. The way it came out all breathless and needy, desperate and reverent, the way you’d call his name as he pressed you into the couch, body over yours, pinning you in place as his mouth found your skin, tracing a path along your hip. You pulled uselessly at his sweater, biting your lower lip. “So impatient, my sweet girl,” he murmured, and your whine sent a spark straight through him.

"Want to see you, angel," you pleaded and he couldn’t deny you, even if he wanted to, not when your hands already reached to push under his sweater, your hands warm on his skin and he pulled back, pulling the offending garment off completely. You smiled, looking at him fondly. "Much better," you murmured, shifting up to kiss him again, your warm lips meeting his.

He met you readily, pressing you down again, his body covering yours, a warm comfortable weight. He could never get enough of how you fit against him, the feel of your soft skin against his fingers, the way your mouth moved against him, sweet and willing. The way your legs moved to wrap around him. "Okay if I take this off?" he whispered, hands finding the waistband of your pyjama pants, beige with little cookies printed over them, hot breath fanning over your face, eyes watching you as you nod. He slid the soft material down your legs, leaving you bare before him. It was a view he loved, all your bare skin, all his to touch and explore.

Your breath hitched as his hands gently nudged your thighs further apart, and he slowly sank onto his knees between them. You let out a small groan involuntarily, just at the sight of him between your thighs. "Angel..."

He shushed you gently, fingers tracing circles on your thighs, so close to where you wanted him. His eyes roamed over you, taking in every detail, your breathing and the way your legs twitched. “Just relax, my sweet girl,” he murmured, his thumbs rubbing soothing strokes across your skin.

"You're not making it easy," you muttered back.

He couldn’t help the smile at your comment, his hands slowly shifting your legs, lifting them to pull off your panties, and he could feel the way your breath caught, your body shifting slightly to help. He was so close to you he could practically feel your heat against his face. He was still gently running his fingers over the skin of your thighs, trying to keep you calm. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, voice impossibly soft.

His warm breath against you made your head spin, and you were too lost in the feel of his hands and mouth to do anything but gasp his name and tilt your head back. You were so wet, so needy for him, and you couldn’t help the way your legs shifted, pleading for more. He gently nudged at them, spreading you open further for him. He looked up at you, eyes dark with desire, the sight of you underneath him, leaning back against the foot of the couch, your chest heaving and your body tense, just for him.

He leaned in, and he didn’t miss the way your body jolted when his tongue licked over you, and he hummed against your skin. You tasted so sweet, so perfect, and he was slowly getting addicted to the taste, his hands holding your thighs in place as he slowly explored you. He’d wanted to make you fall apart, the way you’d done so many times for him, bringing him to the knife’s edge before pulling him over. But he couldn’t wait long, and he pushed forward, his tongue circling before he suddenly thrust forward, tasting as much of you as he could.

The effect was instant, and he felt you jerk against him, your gasp turning into a long moan. The sound made his hands squeeze at your thighs, wanting you closer. You were always so responsive to him, so sensitive, and you were already on edge from his light teasing. He loved the sounds you made, all those soft noises that you seemed unable to help when he was like this. He loved the way your skin felt under his hands, the way you would pull and tug at his hair when he was teasing you. He loved the way you felt, warm and soft all around him. He loved you, and he wanted you to fall apart. He was almost relentless, tongue working over you, delving into you, wanting you to come completely undone.

He didn’t want to pull away, wanted to keep going, to take you as close as he could, but you were already teetering on the edge, so close to climax. He loved how responsive you were, how he could pull those sweet moans and gasps so easily from you with just a few caresses. He wanted to see you come, wanted to feel your body shaking against him. He pulled back for a second, breathless, his voice already wrecked from how sweet you sounded, “Come for me, my sweet girl."

Your fingers scrabbled for his hair, needing something to hold onto as he brought you through your climax, his tongue not leaving you until you were begging him to stop, your body sensitive and overwhelmed. He let his hands gently trail across your thighs as you fell back onto the couch, boneless and still quivering. He couldn’t help a little smile at how wrecked you looked, your hair falling over your eyes, your body trembling. And yet you still looked beautiful, your bare body on display for him, your skin flush and warm. He shifted forward, his lips gently kissing your stomach and travelling up your body, until he laid down on top of you, his weight carefully resting between your legs, his head buried in your neck.

"I love you," you whispered, holding him, your fingers trailing over his back.

He lifted his head at your words, still so touched by your sweetness. After all this time, you still managed to surprise him. He shifted, propping himself up on an elbow to look down at you, his gaze soft and adoring. “I love you more,” he murmured, reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair out of your eyes, fingers tracing the line of your jaw.

"Not possible," you murmured.

He smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Agree to disagree,” he teased, his hand gently caressing your hair, fingers carding through the messy strands. He liked you like this; soft and pliable in his arms, your body still trembling from your orgasm. His fingers traced down the side of your face, before his knuckles grazed gently over your collarbone, tracing the line of your shoulder.

"You were right," you murmured, looking at him. "Best Christmas ever. Even if I can't build a gingerbread house for the life of me."

He looked at the wreckage of the house, then back to you, hiding a smile. “You’re good at a lot of things, sweetheart, but decorating is just not your strong suit,” he teased and you huffed and shoved at his shoulder in mock offence. He just pulled you on top of him, kissing you deeply all over again.

#listen smut is hard enough to write in third person #it's so much harder in second person #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #my fics

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colonelarr0w · 1 year ago

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Geto, Gojo, and Choso with an s/o going out for a girls night with her friends but her dress is VERRRRY short. :))

A/N : STOP BECAUSE I WAS KICKING MY FEET AND TWIRLING MY HAIR THE ENTIRE TIME THAT I WAS WRITING THIS.

Includes - Suguru Geto, Satoru Gojo, Choso Kamo

Warning(s) - suggestive content, foul language, Gojo is a WHORE (what else is new honestly)

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

“Fuck me!”

Suguru’s ears perk at the sound of your frustrated voice, head tilting curiously as he glances up from his phone. He stands from his position on the couch, slowly entering your shared bedroom and watching as you pull down the back of your dress.

Judging by your irritated tone and stiffened body language, it wasn’t the first or the second time that you had tugged your dress down.

“Everything okay in here baby?” Suguru inquires from the door, forcing his eyes to meet your own as opposed to wandering down. The last thing that he wanted was to be on the receiving end of your wrath — the last time that had happened, he had been placed on a week long sex ban.

To say he barely survived that would be the understatement of the century.

“Just this stupid dress,” you bite out angrily, slapping your hands against your thighs in defeat. You had accidentally ordered the dress a size too small, but it hadn’t looked that short when you laid it out over your bed.

But now that you were wearing it, it continued to ride up with every single one of your movements, nearly exposing your entire backside.

The fact that you hadn’t ripped the dress to shreds with your bare hands was a miracle in it of itself.

Suguru finally allows his eyes to rake up and down your figure, admiring the way that the dress hugs your curves while still remaining elegant. The straps are loose over your shoulders, intentionally of course and the dress’ corset only makes you look that much better.

But you don’t see it that way, instead, you see the dress as an inconvenience that is only making you more and more late for your girls’ night with Shoko and Utahime.

In the reflection of the mirror, you can see Suguru watching you hungrily, a look that goes directly to your core. You can feel your face warming underneath his gaze, and you know that silently, he’s trying to make you even more late than you already were.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you whine, turning to look at Suguru. He crosses his arms, still leaning against the doorframe and smirking at you. He doesn’t fail to notice the way your thighs rub against one another, no doubt trying to provide yourself with the tiniest bit of friction.

“Oh? And why’s that?” he teases you, raising an eyebrow. You fight back the urge to roll your eyes, knowing the action would only dig you into a deeper hole.

“You’re going to make me late,” you point out, turning back to the full-body mirror. You grab the bottoms of your dress again, tugging downward sharply and hoping that it would stay. But of course, the moment that you straighten your back, the dress rides up.

This time however, Suguru doesn’t bite his tongue.

“I’m not going to make you late, but that dress sure will,” Suguru steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you. His arms wrap loosely around your waist, tugging your back against his chest whilst his chin hooks over your shoulder.

You let out a sigh, body relaxing against Suguru’s while one of his hands begins to slowly drift lower, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. “Suguru-“

“Hmm?” he hums, raising an eyebrow at you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, biting back the desperate whimper that claws at the base of your throat. He smiles at the look on your face, keeping his fingers right against the inside of your thigh.

“I’m definitely going to be late now,” you sigh, leaning your head back so that it hits against Suguru’s shoulder. He grins in victory, then hooking his arms beneath you and swiftly lifting you from the ground.

“That you are,” he agrees, all the while you giggle at your boyfriend’s antics.

“Babe, Shoko texted you again. Do you want me to answer for you—?” Satoru cuts himself off as he enters your bedroom, standing slack-jawed in the doorframe as you continue to get ready, having not heard your boyfriend enter.

You smooth your hands over your dress, turning your body in a circle to admire yourself in your room’s full-body mirror. An approving smile curls the corner of your lips upward. You had put so much time and effort into your hair, makeup, and outfit — to have it pay off was one of the most rewarding feelings.

“Satoru? Everything okay?” you ask suddenly, having finally noticed your snowy-haired boyfriend standing in the doorframe of your bedroom. His jaw is still practically on the floor, arms hanging limply at his sides as he simply stares at you — it’s almost unsettling, really.

He swallows the lump in his throat, suddenly aware of how tight his pants feel. And as badly as he wants to pounce on you, he knew that you would protest under the reason that Shoko would have your head if you were late to another girl’s night.

“Yeah! Yeah, everything’s good,” he nods quickly, clearing his throat and doing his best to play off the way that he had been ogling at you.

Curiously, you raise an eyebrow at him, but you say nothing in response. You turn back to the mirror, lifting your hands to your hair and smoothing it out, making sure that no strand was out of place.

Satoru swallows again, glancing down at your phone in his hand before tossing it on the bed, then following it and laying on his stomach on the bed. Though laying on his stomach was uncomfortable, he wouldn’t dare admit that simply looking at you had gotten him hard.

“Are you sure that everything is okay Satoru?” you inquire from your place in the front of the mirror, not failing to notice how he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you — not that that was an uncommon occurrence anyway.

Shaking his head and forcing his gaze up to meet your own, Satoru nods quickly — almost too quickly to even be considered human.

You hum, already feeling a smirk curl the corner of your lips upward as you turn to face him, being sure to sway your hips as you walk over to your bed.

You reach your hands down, cupping the sides of Satoru’s face and guiding his gaze to meet yours, an action that he follows without an ounce of hesitation.

“You really are a terrible liar,” you murmur, taking note of your boyfriend’s half-lidded eyes and the small purse of his lips. You lean down, slotting your lips against his own and smiling against him at the moan that he releases into your mouth.

He leans further into you, pushing himself up onto his knees and wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you against him.

You pull back from him to catch your breath, not failing to notice the small whine that your action pulls from the back of Satoru’s throat.

“I can’t be late again,” you point out, finding yourself smiling as Satoru’s lust-blown eyes flicker about your expression, deflating when he realizes that you’re being serious.

“Please? It won’t be that late,” Satoru whispers, tucking his face into the crook of your neck and placing sloppy kisses against the skin there. He smirks against you at the shiver that runs up your spine.

You sigh, disconnecting Satoru from your neck and placing your hands against his cheeks again. He tilts his head at you, feigning innocence as you playfully glare down your nose at him.

“Fine,” you relent, craning your neck and pressing your lips to Satoru, allowing him to tug you onto your bed.

You ended up being two hours late to girl’s night — much to the displeasure of Shoko.

“Choso, honey, could you come in here for a second?” you call sweetly from your bedroom, smoothing your hands over the front of your dress. You find yourself smiling at the sound of hurried footsteps growing louder, and in a matter of seconds, Choso is standing in the doorframe of your bedroom.

He pauses at the sight in front of him. You’re standing in front of the mirror propped up against one of the bedroom walls, hair done up with a face of makeup on. You’re wearing a dress that Choso hadn’t seen before; a skintight black dress that rides up just a touch too high for his liking — but he would never tell you not to wear it.

You turn to Choso, smiling and placing your hands on your hips — completely oblivious to the effect that you were currently having on him.

“What do you think?” you ask him, leaning your weight to the side. Your dress follows your movement, the right side riding up to expose the skin of your thigh. Choso’s eyes flicker to the newly exposed skin, but they just as quickly return to your eyes, not wanting you to think he was ogling you.

He swallows past the lump in his throat, while also doing his best to ignore the growing strain in his pants. He would just have to restrain himself, you had to leave in twenty minutes after all. The last thing that he wanted was to be the cause of your lateness — though he didn’t know how long he would be able to hold out once you were gone.

“You look gorgeous,” Choso responds quickly, realizing that he had accidentally found himself caught in his own thoughts. You smile at his praise, crossing the room and lifting your arms to wrap them over his neck, nails lightly tracing the nape of his neck.

He shivers against your fingers, biting back a moan that climbs up his throat. You smile mischievously, flashing him one of those looks — the one where he knows that you wouldn’t exactly mind being late for girl’s night.

Choso quickly leans down, roughly pressing his lips to yours as he tugs your chest flush against his own, hands gripping at your waist while your hands tangle in his hair, tugging lightly on the strands. You receive a cracked moan into your mouth following your action — one that has you smirking against Choso’s lips.

He steps towards your bed, lightly dragging you with him until the backs of your legs hit against the bed’s edge. Only then does he help you, hooking his hands underneath the plump of your ass and lifting you up, never once breaking the kiss.

You pull back to inhale greedily, biting your lips together as Choso’s hands wander over the fabric of your dress, fingertips just barely grazing your skin in a way that has you shivering.

“Mine,” he growls against you, bending his head down to press featherlight kisses against your neck, sucking at your pulse point and feeling himself smirk at your back arching in response. Your body pushes itself further into Choso’s arms — a feeling that he would never get used to but wholeheartedly appreciated.

He pulls his lips back from your neck — that earns him a disappointed moan. Choso’s eyes flicker to meet yours, pants straining at the half-lidded look that you give him, pupils lust-blown and chest rising and falling in panted breaths.

With you sitting on the bed and Choso standing in front of you, it grants him easy access to what he wants most. He leans forward to peck your lips again, once again feeling his pants strain at the way your mouth chases his when he pulls back from you.

He lowers himself to his knees in front of you, sending you one last glance before his fingers push up your dress. You let out a small sigh, glancing down at Choso.

At this point, you didn’t even mind the fact that you were forty-five minutes late.

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hoffmansgirl · 2 months ago

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𝘿𝘼𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙊𝙐𝙎, 𝙏𝘼𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙀𝘿 & 𝙁𝙇𝘼𝙒𝙀𝘿 ⎯ father charlie mayhew

⠀⎯⎯⎯ read part one! .. 𝓶illion 𝓭ollar 𝓶an

₊˚⊹౨ৎ 𝓐'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: here it is! finally! i know a lot of people waited for this, so i hope you enjoy. please read the warnings before reading ⎯ this is dirtyyyy as hell. 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. gore · murder · descriptive mentions of crimes & killing · blood(play). like, so much blood · masochism · blasphemy · charlie & reader refer to him as "god" · knife play · blood kink · oral (m!receiving + slight f!receiving) · finger sucking · unprotected piv · choking/breath play · cum eating · a cliffhanger at the end (: 𝘄𝗰. 5299

"Does it matter what tool do we use?", you asked inquisitively, running your fingertips over the cold surface of the chopping knife, as if you were trying to memorise every detail of it. You tilted your head slightly, and Charlie hummed, his hands resting on either side of you as he pressed his chest against your back. His chin rested on the top of your head — he took a deep breath, savouring the moment of silence, the warmness of your body against his; your smell invaded his senses, making his lips curve into a smile.

"This time — no", Charlie retorted, lifting his hand to rest it on top of yours. "But you still have to think this through. You're my smart girl, aren't you?", he run his fingers over the blunt side of the tool, and you nodded vigorously, making the Priest's heart swell with pride. "Tell me. Which one would you choose?".

You nibbled on your bottom lip, your gaze focusing on the tools in front of you.

"Easily, a gun. I would simply shot them in the head", you hesitated, turning towards Charlie, whose chocolate-like eyes were now flickering with adoration. He took a strand of your perfectly curled hair and twirled it around his pointer finger, humming appreciatively, encouraging you to continue. "They will be dead within seconds. No need to massacre their bodies before death. Then, we can use a saw to cut off their limbs. It should cut through the bones pretty easily — at least, that's what you said", you added, the corners of your mouth turning up as you battled your eyelashes at Charlie. He tugged on the strand of hair before cupping your cheek, and you snuggled into his palm, warmness spreading across your body.

"Indeed, love. You've been listening very carefully, learning so quick. Such a good little Angel", he cooed, making your heart flutter in your chest. "Let's get to work then, shall we?".

You nodded in response, and Charlie sent you a filthy, open-mouthed smirk, before leaning down to kiss you just as filthily. Your body responded to his naturally, melting into his warm embrace, your hands resting on his black shirt-covered chest, wishing nothing more but to see his body underneath. But it had to wait, and you knew it — it was hard to control the tingling sensation between your thighs as Charlie's lips brushed against you with such vigor and need, though. Your teeth clicked together as Charlie's hand tangled in your hair, causing a soft whimper to leave your mouth, your tongue rolling over his own messily. "Mmm, later", the priest mumbled lowly, pulling away just slightly — his swollen, wet lips brushed against yours as you stood there, breathing each others air, savouring the moment. The cold air of the basement hit your skin, and you trembled, your eyes snapping open to meet Charlie's gaze.

"Yes. Let's just... get it over with", you whispered softly, and he took a step back, nodding his head towards the counter behind you. You understood what he wanted — you blindly reached for the gun laying on the very edge of the table, reloading it, your every movement precise and slow. Charlie intertwined your fingers together, sending you a smile.

You were convinced everything would be fine as long as the two of you were together.

"Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand", Charlie's soothing voice reached your ears, filling the silence like the most beautiful song. You hanged your head, closing your eyes for a second, feeling his presence behind you; his cautious eyes following every movement of your steady hands. You passed the needle through the skin of a sex worker's arm, connecting it to torso of another's. You hummed softly as your knees dig into the cold, marble floor —yet, somehow, you loved the pain. You were almost finished sewing the body parts together under Charlie's gaze, as he gave you tips every now and then. You appreciated his work, appreciated how he let you be a part of his plan, appreciated how patient and helpful he was when it came to you and only you.

"I'm so thankful", you mumbled, lifting your eyes just for a second, meeting the Priest's gaze, before focusing on the needle still in your hand. A smile made its way onto your face, covered by a sheer, lacy, black veil, and Charlie's breath hitched at your beauty.

His greedy eyes roamed over your form, kneeling on the floor. You were wearing a long dress that matched the veil gracefully resting on your head.

Your hair fell on your back in cascades, silky and soft, glimmering in the dim, flickering lighting. Your long, fluttering lashes casted long shadows on your cheeks, and your lips were slightly parted as you focused on your task.

Charlie couldn't help the appreciative hum that left his mouth as he circled you, careful not to step on any of the blood pools or the poor people's body parts. "I mean it", your voice came out low and steady as you — yet again — stole him a quick glance. The left corner of your mouth quirked up as you finally finished, putting the needle and string down, admiring your and Charlie's — mostly his — masterpiece with tilted head. "Thank you for letting me help you. Thank you for showing me the world I haven't ever seen before. Thank you for loving me", you muttered slowly, and Charlie stopped in his tracks, now standing right in front of you. You lifted your gaze as his tall form towered over you — his eyes filled with adoration, pride, and the all familiar neediness.

"You make me so proud everyday", he spoke lowly, holding out his hand for you to grab. You slowly got up from your kneeling position, and he pulled you into his warm embrace, never letting go of your bloody hand — he lifted it to his mouth, pressing soft kisses on the back of your hand, humming at the metallic taste invading his senses. Your breath hitched as his lips met your fingers, the fresh blood now covering his mouth — the all familiar sight so erotic, you couldn't help but shudder, tapping two of your fingers against his lower lip delicately. Charlie obeyed, as he always did, taking them into his mouth without hesitation, his tongue lapping at the crimson liquid greedily. A quiet whine left his mouth as his lips closed around your digits, sucking them harshly, his hands now roaming over your lower back. His eyes met yours, dark and dangerous, even when you were the one stuffing his mouth with your fingers.

You pushed them further into his mouth before pulling out, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. There was no rush in the way you moved, not even when he walked you back to press you against the wall, not when he pushed himself inside of you so hard it almost hurt — yet you loved every second of the pain. You always did with Charlie.

A breathless praises escaped his mouth as he fucked into you nice and deep, and for a moment, it was just the two of you — in the quietness of the abandoned Church, the corpses on the floor long forgotten as you turned into a babbling mess, surrounded by his powerful embrace. It made you feel powerful, too, as the two of you connected over and over again, a rush of adrenaline running down your spine, fireworks erupting in your stomach as you watched him with hooded eyes.

"I love you. I love you so much", Charlie panted, pressing his forehead against yours as he painted your walls white, holding on to you as if you were going to disappear any second now. You could only smile, brushing your fingers over his cheek, the softness of his skin perfectly matching the delicacy of his soul.

You loved watching Charlie hold his usual evening masses. Not only did he look effortlessly beautiful, but his words — always a little bit too personal and specific — touched your soul. You sat in the darkest corner, your hands folded in prayer as you savoured the moment, trying so hard to focus on his sermon — but everything about him was way too mesmerising. From his perfectly combed hair, to his glimmering eyes, to the way his lips moved as he spoke. The way his long eyelashes casted soft shadows on his cheeks, or the way his Adam's apple moved as he spoke. Your gaze travelled lower — your wide eyes following the way his fingers tightened around the platform as he read the Bible verses to the parishioners.

Your cheeks grew warm, and, as if he could sense your sudden fluster, his eyes scanned over the crowd of people, only to settle on you. Charlie knew he couldn't do much from his spot on the platform, but he felt powerful under your gaze — full of adoration and pride. You bit your lip, winking at him, and he gripped the platform tightly, his voice never shuddering. He sent you a last, lingering gaze before focusing on his work, completely — yet a silent promise of what was about to come lingered in the air between you.

Soon after, he said his goodbyes to the parishioners, turning away to snuff out the candles around the altar. You stayed in your seat, looking for the right moment to approach him as people began to leave. You got up, slowly and deliberately, smoothing out the wrinkles on your black dress, beginning to walk towards him. You knew he could feel your presence when you saw his shoulders relax, as the last person left the church, leaving the two of you alone.

"The sermon was beautiful", you whispered, and Charlie chuckled under his breath, turning towards you. His hands were on you in an instant, warm and comforting on your hips.

"Come on now, Angel", he smirked, tilting his head before leaning down to brush his lips against yours. "You were rather absent. Too busy eye-fucking me to focus on anything else, really".

You grinned, letting your hands trace the outline of his muscles through the thick material of the cassock he was wearing. "Mmm. Maybe. You just look so good. Couldn't help myself", you breathed out, closing your eyes before closing the remaining distance between you and kissing him.

Charlie responded immediately, soft groan leaving his mouth at the taste of you — a taste he missed so much. He pulled you closer, letting you feel his strong body against yours, the growing bulge in his pants brushing against your stomach. You smirked into the kiss, biting his bottom lip with enough force to draw blood. You lapped at the small wound greedily, moaning at the taste — you were convinced nothing could ever taste as good as him. You let Charlie's tongue tangle with your own, allowing him to taste his own blood. His soft groans, along with your occasional whines echoed through the air, your hands now travelling up his back to tangle in his hair.

"Mmm, I missed you", you managed to say between kisses, pushing him back blindly until he fell onto his chair — the very one he sat in during masses. Charlie took his cassock off hurriedly, before grabbing you by your thighs, forcing you to straddle his lap. He wasted no time as he latched his lips on your neck, scraping his teeth against the delicate skin before soothing the sting with his tongue. Your head fell back — your breathless moans filled the air, punctuated by the wet sounds of Charlie's mouth against your skin.

"Every inch of you is made for worship. You're perfect", he muttered, pressing kisses along your jawline as he clutched the lacy material of your dress in his hands. "You're a Goddess. A Divine Being. Made for me, and only me".

Your eyes fluttered shut at his words, and you let them settle in the silence between the two of you — your breathing became heavy as Charlie's lips brushed against your neck, his fingers tracing shapes on your thighs. The cross on the wall behind you caught your attention, but in that moment, there was no Jesus, no shame, no fear; all you could feel was Charlie and the power emanating from him.

"You, God, are my God, earnestly I seek you; I thirst for you, my whole being longs for you, in a dry and parched land where there is no water", your melodic, satin like voice filled the silence in Charlie's chamber as he washed the remains of blood from his face with the Holy Water. He swore he could almost feel the burning sensation in the places that the Water reached — as if God was punishing him for his sins. In that moment it didn't matter, though, not when your words reached his ears. He hummed appreciatively, turning towards your kneeling form.

"Very good. Worship Your God with not only words, but also actions". You nodded slowly as he now stood in front of you, with nothing but a white towel loosely wrapped around his waist. Your mouth began to salivate as you watched him, tall and powerful above you, his gaze both demanding and dangerous. Unhesitatingly, you reached for his towel, tugging it down in one, swift movement. Your breath hitched as his cock stood proudly right in front of your face, waiting to be taken care of.

"So pretty", you whispered softly, not sure of he'd even be able to hear — yet he did. He looked down at you with authority, small smile making its way on his lips before he reached down to tug on your hair, clearly inpatient. You fixed your posture, leaning forward, folding your hands, as Charlie slowly began to stroke his cock with his free hand.

A soft moan left his mouth at the contact, as he watched you with hooded eyes; one of his black shirts dangling from your figure, rolled up on your silky thighs. Charlie caught a sneak peek of your collarbones and neck as you hanged your head.

"He is the one you praise; he is your God, who performed for you those great and awesome wonders you saw with your own eyes", he panted lowly, moving his hand over his cock teasingly slow, as he held your hair tightly. Your lashes fluttered as you gazed up at him — the power he had over you in the moment only spurred him on further. "Open up. Wide", he instructed, tugging on your hair, forcing you to lift your head. You obeyed —your tongue lolling out of your mouth, eyes clouded with lust as you looked up for his approval.

There was no rush in his movements as he slowly positioned his leaking cock in front of your awaiting mouth, slapping the tip against your tongue. You hummed as the salty taste of his pre-cum invaded your senses, the smell of Charlie — wood, a strong cologne and a hint of incense — lingering in the air, making the moment even more intimate.

"Just like that, Angel", he smirked widely, his eyes not once leaving yours as he slowly thrusted into your mouth. "Worship your God".

You hollowed your cheeks around his cock, swirling your tongue around the tip just like he knew he liked it. Charlie hissed through clenched teeth, tangling his hand in your hair, holding you in place as his hips began to snap into your mouth with force. Your eyes began to water as his tip bruised the back of your throat, your still folded hands trembling as you struggled to breathe.

"You look so pretty with my dick in your mouth, on your knees — praying for me", he gasped, and you let out a moan, causing every muscle in his body to clench. He continued to use your mouth, as you slurped down on his cock, saliva mixed with his pre-cum dripping from the sides of your mouth — you weren't afraid of being messy, spurred by the groans leaving his mouth every time your wet, inviting mouth took all of his length in.

Charlie's thumb pressed against your forehead, as he continued to use your mouth, deaf to the desperate moans and gags leaving you. He drew a sign of the cross on your skin, causing a tingling sensation to spread all over your body. You doubled your efforts on his dick, your tongue lapping the pulsing vein on the underside of his shaft. Charlie whined and pushed you all the way down, forcing his length to rest deep in your throat — your hands flew to his thighs for balance, tears running down your cheeks as you struggled to breathe.

"A holy seed in your mouth, Angel", Charlie panted, his head falling back as he felt your throat convulse around him. "Take me. Take all of me in your pretty little throat — let me take over your body and soul".

All you could do was moan as his hips thrusted against your face one, two, three more times — before he pulled away, a string of saliva still connecting your swollen lips to his pretty, flushed tip. You sticked out your tongue while your hands moved up to close around his cock, jerking him off swiftly.

A few seconds and strokes of your hands later, and the hot spurts of his cum landed on your awaiting tongue, chin and cheeks, his hand on your head tightening as he struggled to stay upright.

"Oh my— Yes, fuck", he grunted desperately, and you smirked, closing your mouth around his tip to swallow every single drop he offered you.

You pulled away a while later, licking your lips, savouring the taste of his godly essence on your tongue. Charlie's chest was heaving with uneven breaths as he pulled you up by your shoulders. Your legs were shaking terribly, sore from the endless kneeling, but the burn in your lower abdomen was stronger than any pain.

"You're a real child of God", Charlie held both of your hands in his as he led you to his bed. Your knees buckled when they hit the bed frame, and you fell back against the sheets, moving up until your head met the pillow. Your hair was scattered around your head like a halo, and Charlie's breath hitched as he stood on the foot of the bed, in all his glory — his cock stood proud in the air, not yet fully satisfied.

You watched with a smile as he moved to grab a knife from his drawer. The bed creaked under Charlie's weight as he slowly moved to tower over you. His hand slid up your chest, slowly and teasingly, before the blunt side of the knife pressed against your — his — shirt-covered collarbone.

The thrill of being at his mercy — even though you knew he wouldn't hurt you — was electrifying, and you couldn't help the gasp that left your mouth at the sensation. Charlie hummed a few lines of a hymn, as his other hand grasped your thigh, his fingers tracing soft circles onto your skin. The blade moved against your chest, and he pressed it in harder, cutting through the black fabric.

"So pure... so special", he whispered, voice filled with adoration as he watched your chest rise and fall rapidly. You gasped as the cold air hit your hot skin, when Charlie slowly slid the shirt off your shoulders. Your boobs were now fully exposed to him, and he couldn't help a groan that left his mouth at the sight, his cock pressing between your bodies as he leaned down to brush his lips against the fading "C" on your sternum, that he carved out with his knife a few weeks ago. He knew it'd leave a scar, but that was his purpose — he wanted you to be marked as his for life. He let his tongue trace over the letter, lapping at your skin as if he was starved.

"Therefore, I urge you, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God — this is your true and proper worship", he mumbled, and your back arched off the bed as his mouth closed around your nipple, biting the sensitive bud softly, at which you whined. You tugged on the white sheets with force as he sucked, licked and lapped on your skin, breathless sounds leaving your mouth when the cold blade pressed against your skin yet again.

"Charlie— please", you managed to let out through gritted teeth, and he chuckled lowly — the sound vibrating against your skin, making you shiver.

You were growing impatient as Charlie finally let go of your nipple, his hand closing around your neck as he looked you up and down. "I need you so bad. I don’t want to wait". Your words came out strangled, as you struggled to breathe — due to his thumb now pressing against your pulse point with force.

"Greed is a sin", he tutted, before pressing the sharp edge of the knife into the skin of your hip. Blood was pouring from the little wound as he continued to move the blade down, creating a masterpiece of his own on your skin. He groaned when your blood streamed down your side, covering the sheets under you. Tears blurred your vision as you struggled against him, the pain and pleasure of being so obviously marked by him making you lightheaded.

Relief washed over your body when he was finished, leaving you trembling and crying — yet still, your sick mind was enjoying every second of it.

"Mine", Charlie groaned, before throwing the knife onto the bed and moving down your body to lap at your wounds. He wasn't afraid of being messy with you as he took a deep breath, savouring the smell of you, his tongue cleaning up the mess that he had made. The sting made your body twitch, as his hand left your throat, instead moving down your body to tug at the waistband of your panties. Your hips rose off the mattress, allowing him to do whatever he pleased — and so he did, taking your lace thong off greedily, his tongue still working against your crimson covered skin.

You couldn't take it no more — not when the pressure between your thighs became too much, the tension begging to be taken care of. With all the strength you had left, you tugged on his hair, pulling him in for a bruising kiss. You didn't mind the taste of your own blood on your tongue, moaning into his mouth, as Charlie's hands gripped your thighs, forcing them open when they threatened to close around his hips.

Your blood was smeared all over yours and Charlie's lips, chins and cheeks as you shared a filthy, open mouthed kiss, your tongues rolling over each other. Your hands pressed against his chest, nails digging into his skin as you felt his cock press against your clit. A groan left his mouth when you grinded your hips up, causing his tip to brush against your wet folds.

"God, please— I need your cock, I need it so bad, Charlie", you mumbled, sucking his lower lip into your mouth lewdly. He flipped the two of you over, wasting no time before positioning his cock on your entrance, and you sink down on him with an almost pornographic moan.

Your head tipped back as you grinded down against him, his hands closing on your waist in a bruising grasp. He panted lowly, eyes falling closed as he felt the warmness and wetness of your cunt squeezing him with force.

"Fuck, yeah", Charlie cried out, and you smirked, your eyes half-closed as you watched him tremble beneath you. You reached out for the knife that was long forgotten by him, pressing the flat side against his stomach, watching as his eyes widened.

"You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they were created and have their being", you chanted, at which a desperate groan left his mouth, urging you on further. You pressed the knife against his sternum, cutting through his skin as if it was paper. You carved out big cross on his skin as you began to bounce up and down on his cock.

"Amen", you whispered, and Charlie'a bottom lip trembled in pain as your fingers digged into the wound, coating your fingers in his blood. You put them in your mouth, moaning obscenely as Charlie's lips began to piston upwards, his tip hitting your cervix every time he bottomed out. Your tongue swirled around your digits, your eyes rolling back into your head at the metallic taste of Charlie's blood coating your tongue.

"You taste so good, my God", you groaned as your fingers left your mouth, and you coated them with yet another layer of the crimson liquid, before tapping them on his bottom lip. He obeyed, digging his fingers into the plush flesh of your thighs, as you pushed your bloody fingers deep into his mouth. He whined pathetically, the movements of his hips slowing as he savoured the taste of himself. You took the lead, watching as his eyes fluttered shut at the invasion in his mouth, your blood covering the lower part of his face — the sight so erotic it made you tremble and grind against him harder.

"Oh, shit— my Goodness", he cried out around your digits, and you chuckled, pulling them out of his mouth, instead putting both of your hands on both sides of him for balance, as you bounced up and down on his thick cock. It felt like he was tearing you apart with how deep he was, incoherent curses leaving your mouth as your hair fell down your sweaty, bloody face. You licked a stripe up his chest, tracing the bloody cross with your tongue, moaning at the taste. Charlie hissed, pushing your head down, urging you not to stop, his hips snapping up to meet yours; his hands on your ass, forcing you to bounce harder.

"Every single piece of you is made for sin", Charlie groaned, spanking your backside once, twice, thrice, until you couldn't breathe. Tears blurred your vision at the pain, but you could just grind harder, the friction of his lower stomach against your clit making you see stars. "You're so filthy. Like a fucking devil", he snarled, and you arched your back as his flat palm landed on your ass cheek yet again.

"Charlie, I'm— I'm gonna cum", you cried out, and he nodded, pulling you flush against his chest, lifting your hips just a little higher in the air — causing his cock to hit that sweet spot deep inside you.

Your hand closed around Charlie's throat, and he groaned appreciatively when you squeezed, your thumb brushing against the vein on the side of his neck. His cock twitched when he watched you, your lips brushing against his just slightly as you moaned for him — the look of pure pleasure on your face was almost too much for him to handle.

"Fuck, yes— choke me— choke me, just like that", he panted, and you felt his cock twitch inside you.

"Cum with me", you begged, leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss. Your blood mixed as your tongues swirled together, and you swallowed his breathless moans as he neared his peak.

Charlie's thrusts became sloppy as he lost his rhythm, and as he hit that particular spot in you, you were seeing stars, coming all over him. Your cunt convulsed around his cock, squeezing him so tightly it became hard for him to move as you screamed his name, the hand around his throat tightening. Your orgasm triggered his own. He was grunting profanities under his breath as ropes of his cum filled your womb, causing aftershocks to run down your core.

Charlie flipped you on your back, kissing down your body before reaching your messy, puffy pussy. His cum was leaking out of your spent hole, and his cock twitched yet again at the sight — this time, everything was about you, though. He lowered his head to swirl his tongue against your clit, before lapping up the remains of your mixed releases. He groaned at the taste, and you whined, your legs closing around his head as he devoured you as if you were the last meal he was going to have.

He licked the last, teasing stripe up to your clit before he pulled away, satisfied smile playing on his lips. He kissed the area around the wounds on your stomach before kissing you, letting you taste his and yours release on your tongue.

He quickly deepened the kiss, not yet satisfied — his cock pressed against your stomach, at which you moaned, letting him explore the inside of your mouth with his tongue.

It was before you heard a soft knock on the door — and whoever was on the other side, didn't wait for a response before barging into the room. Your eyes widened and Charlie pulled away quickly, turning towards the door with an expression you haven't quite seen on him yet — fear. His eyes widened with horror as he saw Sister Megan, holding an article in her hand, her mouth slightly agape at the sight of you, the most devout parishioner, in her favourite Priest's bed — both of you naked and covered in blood. A small smile made its way onto your face as you watched her stumble across the doorway, mumbling a quick "I'm sorry", before disappearing.

"Fuck!", Charlie screamed, and you run your hands over his back, trying to calm him down — as you already had a plan. "I'm dead. I am fucking dead!", he groaned, getting up from the bed, panic clearly visible on his face, his heart racing in his chest.

"Baby, calm down! Just— listen for a moment!", you shouted, shaking his shoulders in order to get him to pay attention. "She's not gonna tell anyone. I promise", your voice grew louder as he began to talk over you. He relaxed slightly at your unbothered expression — he knew you would never lie to him, and you had this incredible ability to calm him down even in the most stressful moments.

"We need to get rid of her", he said, at which you smirked, running your hands over his chest softly.

"Exactly what I'm thinking. But", you chimed, standing on your top toes to kiss him, before continuing. "It can wait. Just trust me. And... we still have some unfinished business to take care of". You looked down on his erect shaft, running your hands down his abs to wrap your hand around him. Charlie groaned, his head tilted back and teeth biting on his bottom lip. You smiled as you felt his heartbeat against your other hand, the connection between you two only getting stronger, better — more powerful.

It was a dangerous game you were playing, but as Charlie pulled you back onto the bed, capturing your lips in a kiss, you had no doubts about the future you and Charlie have ahead of you.

But firstly, you had to get rid of the obstacles — and kill Megan Duvall.

tags (click here to be added): @darlingnikkisixx @titsout4nicholas @brlwla @blackynsupremacy @mrs-riddlexo @essentialwriter @nicholaschavezslut69 @niteskysx @emluvsuxo @nicholaslut @greengoblinswifey @sin-deciric

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heizlut · 8 months ago

Text

The Price To Pay

ꕀ cw: dubcon

ꕀ tags: switch fem!reader, switch!aalto, manipulation, power-dynamics, oral m!receiving, creampie, riding, nipple play m!receiving, mostly proofread

ꕀ nsfw under the cut

ꕀ m!list here

From what you had gathered, Aalto was the man to see if you needed information. Of course, any information comes with a price, you knew that. You just didn't expect him to ask you to pay him by selling your body to him...

His brown eyes and all-knowing smirk seem to taunt you as look up at him all wide-eyed and with a scrunched nose, "What's the matter, darlin'? Price too steep for ya?" You let out a scoff that has him chuckling, "Aww, come on now. Promise I'll make ya feel good~" You roll your eyes and turn around, ready to walk away from the white-haired man, "I'll just find someone else. This is too much."

But Aalto is too quick, already standing in front of you with your jaw in his grasp, "The information you're looking for, only I can provide it..." He leans down to your face, "Just say yes to my offer and the information is yours, sweetheart."

You run your tongue across your teeth, annoyed by his proposition but also desperate for the information you sought out. With a heavy breath, you relent, "Fine. Let's do it." Aalto's smirk widens as he straightens up and pats your cheek, "That's what I thought."

⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖

Drool trickles down your chin through the little space between your lips and Aalto's cock that is being thrusted in and out of your throat. His fingers are tangled into your hair, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut in utter bliss, "Yeah, just like that, darlin'... Just like- ngh!"

His words were cut off by your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, making the sensations even more overwhelming for him. You smirk around his length, taking delight in how weak he was to your ministrations. If he was going to demand your body as the price to pay, then you'd make the most of it by making him squirm for you.

You do your best to relax your throat and push forward, taking his length down your throat til your nose is tickled by the trimmed silvery coarse hair on his pelvis. Aalto's eyes roll back at the feeling and the most high-pitched moan comes out of his mouth when you tighten your throat around the length, surprising the both of you.

Aalto is quick to release his grip on you to cover his mouth, eyes wide at the fact that he could produce a sound like that. You pull off his cock, a line of saliva connecting from his tip to your lips as you give a cocky grin, "Don't hide your moans from me... You wanted this, darlin', so move your hands and let me hear how pretty you sound for me~"

Blood rushes to Aalto's cheeks at your words especially when you threw his nickname for you back at him and he hesitantly removes his hands, only to grumble under his breath about how you weren't in any position to be so full of ego. His breath hitches and his brown eyes flit down to where your hand was now grasping his pale cock, your tongue slowly prodding at the slit of his rosy tip.

He scrunches his nose, not in disgust, but in sexual frustration and with the need to take over once more. Aalto grips your hair again and forcefully pulls you away, "Easy there, sweet thing. You've got the lower end of the bargain, so act like it."

You grimace slightly from his forceful grip, but quickly smirk and spread your legs salaciously, exposing your soaked cunt, "Then why don't you take over, huh?" A low groan slips from his throat and he pushes you down against the cold floor. His sweet, yet minty breath fans across your lips, his silver hair tickling your skin. His voice husky and low as he speaks, "Careful what ya wish for, sweetheart."

Breathing out a laugh, you spread your legs wider, keeping your grip underneath your thighs, "Tough talk for a guy who just moaned like a little bitch in-NGH!" Your taunt was thrown off by Aalto pushing his throbbing length inside of you to the hilt with a sharp inhale. He leans down, pressing his forehead against yours, his cock twitching inside of you in anticipation for more, "Sorry, I didn't catch that. What were ya saying about me again?"

You bare your teeth at him, but it hardly looks as threatening as you intend it to be. Your eyes are too glossy and your pussy squeezing his cock too tight for him to see you as a threat. A low chuckles comes from him, "All bark and no bite, aren't ya, darlin'" Leaving you no time for a witty retort, he begins to pull out, only to thrust in hard.

Your pretty lips form a "O" in a moan you can't even let out. You wrap your legs around his waist and move your hands to grip his shoulders. Your nails dig into his skin, making his nose scrunch from the pain, but it wasn't enough to stop him from starting a rough pace as he fucks his swollen cock into your wet, squelching cunt, "F-fuck, that's it. Takin' my cock so well..."

Your face screws up in pleasure at the feeling of his tip pressing against your cervix with each thrust. It was uncomfortable, but at the same time brought overwhelming pleasure. You felt as if you were losing yourself to him and his stupidly big cock. You couldn't let that happen. You take advantage of your position with your legs around his waist, and with a push of your shoulder against his, you had him underneath you.

Aalto blinks up at you, his cock involuntarily throbbing at your display of dominance. You sit upright, the position making his cock feel so deep inside of you, but you bear with it and smirk. Your fingers run down his chest and pause at his pink nipples, pinching them between your fingertips as he lets out a sweet sounding moan. You can't help but chuckle at the sight, "You're just too pretty for me to let you have all the control..."

He bites his lip, but with a particularly sharp pinch to his nipples again, his mouth falls open in a whimper. You show a bit of mercy, leaving his sensitive nubs alone as you lean back and press your palms against the floor beneath you, "Just lay back and relax~" With that, you begin to bounce on his cock at a slow and torturous pace.

The view Aalto has of you now in this position has him fighting not to cum inside of you right then and there. He can see the way his cock moves in and out of your pussy, your clit that's just begging to be touched. He reaches forward and presses the pad of his thumb against your clit, making you gasp. Your eyes refocusing on his now cocky smile as he rubs furiously at your sensitive clit, "I'm not lettin' ya have all the fun~"

Your groan of annoyance turns into a sweet sounding moan as you pick up your pace on top of him while the pad of his thumb makes you see white. You cum hard around his cock, squeezing it over and over as clear liquid spurts out down his length, your thighs, and his abdomen. Aalto's eyes have a crazed look in them as his smile widens, "Hah! What a pretty mess ya made all over me..."

You can't even get annoyed at him at this point, still coming down from such an intense high. You start to falter in your movements, prompting Aalto to grab onto your hips, his voice raw from all his moaning, "My turn~" Your balance is thrown off as he bucks his hips up into you, your palms landing hard on his toned chest as you catch yourself which makes him chuckle, "Sorry, darlin'. Looked like ya needed a bit of help."

Your eyes roll back at he fucks his cock up into you, chasing his own orgasm that was soon to come. His grip tightens and he adjusts his feet on the floor to give him more leverage to fuck you harder and faster, "Gonna cum~ O-oh fuuuuck, wanna fill ya up so much it'll leak outta ya for days~"

With a loud moan, ropes of thick white cum fill your cunt. His cock pulsating to the beat of his racing heart with each spurt. You collapse on top of him, chest heaving against his and your face buried into the crook of his neck. Aalto does his best to catch his breath as his cock softens inside of you, twitching every now and then, "That wasn't so bad now was it, sweetheart?"

Released from your lust-filled haze, you bite down on his tacet mark on his neck, making him hiss and groan, "F-fuck was that for?" You get off of him, his cum leaking down your thighs as you stand and gather your clothes. He props himself up on his elbows, leaning back as he watches you curiously and with some weird sense of satisfaction, "Guess I deserved that, huh..." You narrow your eyes down at him, only for him to give you a cheeky smile and then sigh exasperatedly, "My right pocket."

You raise a brow at him, "What?" Aalto just looks amused, "The information ya want is in the flashdrive in the right pocket of my jacket. Go on, take it. Ya earned it anyways~" You go to where his jacket was haphazardly thrown on the floor, reaching into the right pocket, your fingers wrap around the cool metal of the flashdrive.

You turn to leave after pocketing the drive, only for Aalto's cheeky words to make you briefly pause, "Maybe we should make this a regular thing. I think we got somethin' special, darlin', don't ya think?" The only response you give is your middle finger over your shoulder as you push the doors open and leave. Aalto sighs and runs his fingers through his silver, messy hair, "Such a feisty little thing..."

He smirks as he speaks to himself, "I'll make sure ya come back for more... seeing as I never said that flashdrive had all the information ya wanted~ Our deal isn't over yet, sweetheart~"

⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖

a/n: aalto is so bbygurl, truly the kaveh of wuthering waves

#aalto x reader smut #aalto smut #wuthering waves smut #wuwa smut #aalto wuthering waves #aalto wuwa #aalto x reader

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haveateadude · 3 months ago

Text

take a bite

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ your gf is spiderman, and she keeps getting hurt

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ sexual tension i think?? idk. no smut. a very slightly heavy makeout. ellie is hurt!! and there's a description of her wound that is quite detailed i think. the rest is fluff??? and no angst.

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ every penny i throw in a fountain is another wish for spiderman!ellie to be real. i was literally kicking my feet as i wrote this

Indulging in situations that are fabricated imaginations

Moments that cease to exist

Only want to fix it with a kiss on the lips

After a long night of patrolling, all Ellie wants to do is cuddle and kiss you. You're on your phone, lying on your bed, when she knocks on the window. You stand up to open it, letting Ellie come in, taking her mask off, and then jumping from the window ledge and landing on the floor with a huff. When she presses her hand to her stomach, you know she's hurt.

"Bad day, huh?" You ask as you close the window.

"It was good, I just—you know, I almost got shot."

You wouldn't roll your eyes if this hadn't happened before, but it has. A lot of times, actually. Her reflex when she's fighting gets a little… slow. And by the time she notices the bullet, it's too late, and she's already getting grazed by it.

"You need to be more careful," you say, crossing your arms. "I've told you that before."

"Says you."

You scoff, walking to the bathroom, not even bothering to tell Ellie to follow you.

Ellie sits on the toilet lid, placing her mask on the side of the sink as you take out the first aid kit from the cabinet. She removes her arms off the suit, and then you help her to get out of the shirt she has underneath it, leaving her briefly exposed—only with her sports bra. She's quiet the whole time, looking into your eyes as you work on tending the wound—cleaning and disinfecting. At one point, you end up sitting in her lap, her hands on your waist as you continue to take care of her.

Thank God it is not too bad, you think. There was a time when Ellie had come with such a bad wound you thought you might have to go to the ER—the wound had been too open and she had been too pale and her face was covered in little cuts, her suit was full of burnt holes and her whole body was bruised. She asked not to go to the hospital, so you swallowed your fear and started cleaning the wound with shaky hands.

A part of you is still scared that she might knock on your window looking like that, or even worse. What would you do, then? Swallow your fear again and take it to your grave? What if something else happens—would your hands be covered in her blood forever, carrying the heaviness of a guilt you don't know where to place?

"Hey," Ellie says, snapping you out of your thoughts. One of her hands on your hips raises your shirt a little, for her to rub your exposed skin with her thumb. With her free hand, she places it on your cheek gently, as her thumb gently pulls your bottom lip out of your teeth. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you whisper. Her touch sends shivers down your spine, and it's taking everywhere in you for not to blush. Her thumb starts caressing your lip as she looks at your lips—then back at your eyes, then back at your lips again—and then she lowers her finger a little, now midway to your chin, gently parting your lips as she gets closer.

She kisses you, and then it's heaven.

Your fears get lost in the moment, knowing she's right next to you. And that she's safe. And that one time was just one night and it doesn't mean it'll happen again.

Her hand on your hip moves until her hand reaches your bare back, and you hum in satisfaction, against her lips. The kisses get messier as you continue. At one point she goes through your bottom lip with her tongue, and you happily let her in. Your hands go to her hair, and she lets out a soft moan muffled by your mouth that has you wanting more. And suddenly, you make a sudden wrong move, and she whimpers, but in pain.

"Shit," you apologize quickly.

She lets her head on your shoulder and then her shoulders are shaking and you think she might be crying. But then you hear her laughter.

"You're so stupid," she mutters to your shoulder, letting both of her hands drop to your hips.

"You love me though," you say, as you stand up.

"Sadly, I do." She then exclaimed as you threw her shirt that was lying on the floor to her face, "Hey!"

"Take a shower or something," you said to her, organizing the stuff you used from the first aid kit.

"You'll join me, yeah?"

"You expect me to join you after you just called me stupid? Nuh-uh," you refute, putting the kit to where it was placed before. Then you walk closer to her, leaning down a little and giving her a peck on the lips, "I love you, too."

"Good to know," she says, jokingly. "Kidding. Love you."

There's another kiss, and then, "You should really take a shower, though. You stink."

"Oh, I do not!" She exclaims.

But after a shower, she smells her armpits and declares that maybe she needs to take another one.

#spiderman!ellie #spiderverse!ellie #ellie williams #tlou #fic #lesbian #the last of us 2 #the last of us #ellie williams x y/n #emwrites ; ⋆#fluff #ellie x reader #ellie williams fic #x reader

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theladyofmanyfandomsafterhours · 1 year ago

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More Than We Thought.

Shanks x Reader

Explicit | NSFW | 18+ only

Warnings: Heavy (but ‘delicate’?) smut under the cut - trust me. There’s no build up, we just dive right in.

A/n: It’s purely self-indulgent. I’m hiding under my covers so you can’t see me - is it working?

Inspired by Dirtier Thoughts by Nation Haven.

I’ve written clean fanfic over 6 years so I’m terrified to post something so explicit. But we’re allowed to branch out right?

For less steamy fics, try the main blog.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Shanks pressed his hand just under your belly button, his fingers lightly tracing the outline of where his hard length had entered the most intimate part of your body. He could feel himself squeezed inside. He moved forward slightly and saw the bulge underneath his palm follow the movement.

He glanced up at you and saw your head laying on the mattress, chin tilted up and lips between your teeth. He pushed in deeper and the bump grew slowly. You hummed at the sensation. Heels adjusting on the edge of the bed as you spread your legs as much as you could to let him in.

Taking the positive signs, Shanks kept going further - keeping an eye on the way your hand gripped the sheets. But his main focus was seeing how high the bulge under your skin could go before there was no more space. He wanted it to reach your belly button but even the human body had its restraints.

Bit by bit, he pushed until you let out a soft gasp when he had hit capacity. Shanks looked down at where you were connected, a small frown settled on his face - there was still a bit more of him left.

“Shanks.” You whispered. “What’s wrong?”

The Red-Haired pirate smiled. “I’ve filled you but I...” he leaned forward to kiss your neck. “I’m bigger than we both thought.”

There was a pause before you gave a breathy response. “Push it in.”

Shanks peppered another slow kiss beside the first letting his tongue linger just a little. “Are you sure?”

Looking down, you finally met his eyes since it all started. “Push it in and then repeat it.”

Shanks laughed softly and caught your mouth with his. Nipping the bottom lip when he pulled back. “You’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow if I start.”

Lifting your head up slightly, you copied his kiss and tugged at his lip lightly. “I dare you to have me not walk for a whole week.”

The grin on Shanks’ face distracted you for a split second until there was a sudden harsh pressure in your core as he forced the rest of himself inside you. The fit was undeniably tight and Shanks knew it. He hit the one sensitive spot that made you react in a way that made his heart race. Head thrown back, eyes closed, your mouth opened but was unable to voice a desperate scream. Only managing a short and sharp, “A-Ah!”

“Are you okay?” Shanks asked just to be sure.

You took a few seconds to catch your breath and adjust to his size. “Fine - a little warning would have been nice.” You told him honestly. When his smile dropped a little, you grabbed his chin and smiled. “But where’s the fun in that, right? Do your worst.”

“Looks like you’re not going to be able to talk for a week either.” Shanks returned with a smirk.

He pulled out carefully and when his hips moved a second time, he slammed himself into you - this time getting one hell of a scream from your lips. Then he did it again - pulled out to the tip before ramming back inside - and then again, determined to make your legs tremble until they wouldn’t hold you upright for the next week…or more.

Each thrust sent your voice screaming spirals into the air sometimes as a cry of pleasure other times just his name - and it only spurred him on. When Shanks started to speed up, your hands found his body. Nails clawing into his skin with a dull pain but it was nothing compared to what he was pounding into you.

If it became too much, you would shout the designated safe word but until he heard any part of that phrase, you were at his mercy. His hard length diving in and out of your body -

…until you couldn’t speak.

…until your legs quaked.

…until you had no more of your juices to release.

…until your insides were drowned in his hot spend.

And until your body was newly shaped to fit all that he was squeezing.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

A/n: Still in shock I wrote that. Sweet dreams x

#opla!shanks smut #opla!shanks x reader #opla!shanks imagine #akagami no shanks smut #opla shanks imagine #opla shanks x reader #shanks imagine #shanks imagine smut #shanks x reader smut #shanks smut #shanks x reader #opla imagine #opla smut #opla x reader #one piece x reader #one piece smut

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reallyhatethiswebsite · 6 months ago

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blame @ultrakatua for this raphael eats tav's heart (she's into it lol)

Read on AO3

“I heard an interesting saying once,” says the devil. Soft, slow, murmured like a gentle prayer by a devout at church. “You mortals are so terribly fond of those.”

“What saying,” says the mouse. Hushed, fast, words pushed through cracked dry lips licked one-too-many times by a tongue that cannot lay still. Impatient, but obedient.

“That the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” says the devil. “Quite the allegory. Don’t you agree?”

“Quite,” says the mouse.

The devil circles her. Stares, eyes dark and glittering. Calm, controlled, despite the yawning hunger so clearly written all over his handsome face. He is always hungry. Gluts upon the things he covets: souls, power, subservience. Her. Men like him cannot be sated. He will consume everything she offers and everything she doesn’t, for eternity. What a thrilling thought.

“I wonder,” says the devil. “What is the quickest way to your heart?”

He drags one sharp and solitary black claw along her bare flesh. Displayed so sweetly for him. Damp with sweat. Muscles quiver beneath her fragile skin that does not break, not yet, not until he wills it. Blood flows close to the surface yearning to be spilled. Her little baby hairs all stand on end.

“Raphael,” the mouse whispers. There is the gentle, ominous chime of a grandfather clock from somewhere.

“Beloved,” the devil croons. Smiles. Reaches between her legs to rub two fingers through her mons. She gasps, hips jerking when he nudges her swollen clit, but all he’s looking for is to coat himself in her warm slick. “A meal as fine as this should be savoured.” He holds those wet fingers up to her lips. “Open.”

The taste of her cunt is tart, earthy. Underneath it is purely him: cherries, smoke and magic. Reverently she sucks his digits clean. Bites them, thrilled by his quiet groan, the expanding of his pupils, the swish of his tail. Violence is a devil’s love language, after all. When he frees his fingers from the moist prison of her mouth, her teeth catch on his knuckles. He leaves twin trails of spit down her chin and throat as he lazily lets his huge paw rest between her breasts. She grows breathless with anticipation.

He doesn’t need a blade. The singular claw that earlier teased her with terrible promise is enough. He draws a division from the hollow of her clavicle to the end of her sternum, a division of red that blooms and blossoms into an incision, splitting skin and fat and muscle tissue like bursting fruit. She arches up off the table where he had her present herself, as all choice cuts should. The noise she releases is guttural, both agony and ecstasy. His first slice is always the deepest.

“Such beautiful sounds you make,” the devil purrs, voice tight. “Sweeter than all the music of the Hells. Let me hear more.”

Of course she obliges. Screams and whimpers and sobs even as her hands help him widen the wound further, pulling skin and meat slippery with gushing blood apart from the stained ivory of her ribs. It’s pain indescribable and pleasure inexplicable. The exposing of her true and tender self to the man who she wants to tear her apart. What he seeks, what she yearns to offer him, is protected behind a cage of bone. If he gave her a hammer, she would smash it open herself.

“Oh, my sweet pet. My darling little mouse,” the devil growls. His composure unravels the more she suffers. He is a monster below his veneer of charm and decorum, a monster excited and aroused. “You are exquisite.”

“Raphael…!” The mouse weeps.

He answers her call. Strokes her face, smearing it with crimson. His fine clothes splattered with blood. His hard cock strains in his trousers. He breathes through his mouth, fangs shining, pupils so large his eyes are abysses sunk into his deep sockets.

“Just a little more,” the devil promises.

Together they pry away her ribs, snapping them like dry twigs, and at last she can watch him reach into her chest, reach into her very being, and wrench out the thing that will always belong to him. Her heart beats loud and fast, torn valves spurting bright red arterial blood everywhere, as he holds it in his palm like a treasured jewel. Stares with insidious desire. She feels nothing but depraved satisfaction.

“Eat it,” the mouse chokes. “It’s for you. It’s yours.”

He feasts. Sinks his teeth into her heart as easy as a man eating an overripe peach. Rips pieces of rubbery muscle apart and swallows them whole. Pieces of her sliding down his gullet. All of the twisted, consuming emotions he makes her feel, the dark things about herself she could never escape – everything she is, was, and ever will be, contained in that bloody mass, and he is devouring it. Such sick rapture, to be destroyed by someone who wants you that much. Now she’ll be a part of him forever.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael the cambion #raphael x tav #fanfic #cringe

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coleskingdom · 15 days ago

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Everyday

Adam Page x Fem Reader

NSFW 18+

Shes waiting up for me and is up and at the door as soon as my key hit the lock. “How bad is it?” her hand gripping my chin as she looks over me, my eyes not meeting her gaze. I feel her eyes on me , her thumb brushing my split lip, “Does it hurt?” She asks softly, as she takes me into the bedroom, and I see the ice packs, heating pads, lidocaine, and an assortment of other things she’s worried that I need. “Darlin, physically I’m fine. A little sore my backs got cuts , but I’m okay.. put the triage kit away“ I say kissing her forehead. She sighs, knowing I’m not telling her the whole truth, because if I do , she won’t let me have what I truly need, which is to be surrounded in her warmth, her light, her belief in me.

“Adam, I’ll put it all way but that lip needs ice.” as she hands me the ice pack, putting away the other items. “Do you wish it was the way it was before?” I ask her not sure that I want to hear the answer. “Everyday you wake up and make a decision on who you need to be. I wake up everyday and make a decision to take care of and choose you no matter who you choose to be. So no I don’t wish it was like before, but I wish you could find peace. To quiet your mind..to” I cut her words off with a kiss, it’s desperation, it’s my attempt to quiet my mind.

Her hands go to the hem of my shirt, her hands running up underneath toying with my chest hair. My hands go into the back of her hair needing to control the kiss, to soften and deepen. I feel her hands relax and her body soften against mine. I move from her lips to her jaw to her ear “You’re all I need.” Scooping her up and putting her on the bed her soft laugh of surprise, that I picked her up. “ I see you changed the bedding, you must’ve expected me to be a bloody mess.” as I slip her shorts off. “I , um, it’s cold I just put on the “ I drop to my knees her words failing her, as she she follows my hands as I take off my shirt , her satisfied smile an appreciation of my body but the lack of damage that it showed outwardly. “Adam, I need you, here with me.” her voice soft. “Darlin, let me take care of you.” she shakes her head and reaches for me. “ sweetheart, you’re sure” standing slipping off my jeans and boxers as she raises up to slip her shirt over her head. I groan at my darling girl naked before me, her hands teasing herself as if she’s showing me what she needs.

Im over her now my lips running over her curves as my hands find her perfect breasts before swirling my tongue over each. I take mouth again before dragging my teeth over her bottom lip. “I’ve been dreaming about being back inside you since I left you.” my eyes meeting hers. She brings her knees up to my hips cradle me between her thighs and then tilts her pelvis. “Same Cowboy Same” she smiles. I run my thumb along her bottom lip as my cock lies heavy between our legs, the tip teasing her hot wet center. "I fucking need you, sweetheart ," | growl and lace my fingers with hers, holding them against the bed on either side of her face.

Keeping her hands trapped beside her head, I tease her clit with my dick and drop my mouth down to one pale-pink nipple. Sucking the tight little bud between my lips, I groan as it grows even tighter.

Her breath hitches in her throat, and I slide through her pussy, teasing her clit. "You with me?”She whimpers, and I push in. Just the tip, barely moving. I pull back out. Teasing her. Building her up slowly. “Adam”she cries out as her tight pussy clenches around my cock in a fucking vice-like grip.

"Oh God, A..."I bring my face close to her and graze my teeth over her thrumming pulse. "I'm taking my time, darlin. I need to fucking worship you."The sound of my name on her pretty, swollen lips is like a drug.She's my drug, my home , everything I don’t deserve.

"Fuck, you feel so good, Adam." She wraps her leg around my waist and drags her wet pussy over me. "So, so good." Her nails dig into my shoulders as her hips slowly circle my cock.

"That's my good girl. Take what

you want."She buries her face in my shoulder and bites down on my neck.A loud moan echoes in the quiet room. My girl likes pleasure mixed with a little pain. “I need you Adam. I want to feel you for days. Every step I take, I want to feel you." She circles her hips and clings to me. I shift my hips and pick up speed, bottoming out in her.

My abs contracting with each

thrust.Her hips move in sync with mine. I drop my hand between us and press my thumb against her clit, wanting her to come for me. Needing it. Feral for her. My darling girl.

"I'm so close, Adam." She moves faster and gasps as she locks her legs behind my back and shakes.

"Oh God. Oh God. Yes."

"That's it, sweetheart . Come on my

cock. Fucking give it to me." she screams and shatters around me. I feel my own orgasm radiating a heat from the base of my spine as I come hard, her name a whimper on my lips as I gasp for breath. She adjusts herself. Her nipples rubbing against my hard chest. Her nails trailing over my shoulders. Aftershocks spark through us as she lies on the bed, her words soft soothing as the violence of my own orgasm ebbs.

I climb out of bed and walk into the bathroom to get her a warm washcloth. When I walk back in, she tilts her head to me. I run my hand over her thigh and open her legs. "I know, sweetheart . Just let me take care of you." I gently run the washcloth along her sex before I toss it to the floor, then climb on the bed next to her, dragging the blanket up over us.She rolls over and drapes herself over my chest. "Promise me, that when you’re choosing who to be each morning , that you choose to be mine.” her eyes a storm of emotion, “Darlin, there’s no choice your mine for as long as you’ll have me.” content now I stroke her arm until her breathing lets me know she’s asleep. I wonder if she’ll ever know that she’s my heart and soul, the reason I breathe.

#aew fic #aew smut #aew fanfiction #adam page fluff #adam page fanfiction #adam page x reader #hangman adam page x you #adam page fic #hangman adam page smut #adam page smut #Spotify

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novasintheroom · 1 year ago

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Morning routine

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 1k

♡ Warnings - none

♡ Description: Vash is a pain in the morning.

Now part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3.

The sun is rising through the dusty, cream curtains, and Vash is snoring in your ear.

You groan, rolling away as you continue to wake. Vash makes a noise of protest in his throat, blindly reaching for your warmth, settling on the blankets, and pulling them away to burrow in further. The cool air on your arms and legs slaps you awake. You glare over your shoulder at your sleeping man, then, groaning again, stand from bed and head for the inn’s bathroom.

Vash is still snoring away when you emerge, showered and brushing your teeth. You roll your eyes and go over to him, gently slapping his thigh through the tumble of blankets. “Hm?” he says and goes back to sleep. You give your teeth a few brushes, then poke his side. “Hm? What?”

“Get up, we have to leave by eight. Motel rules.”

Vash turns his head toward you, eyes still closed. “What?”

You snort and go spit in the sink. When you’re cleaned up, you come back out. He’s sitting up in bed. His hair is a mess of golden straw, eyes squinting and fighting to open. He looks at you and purses his lips. “It’s six-thirty.”

“Yes, and you take an hour to get ready.”

Vash groans and flops back on the bed. “Do we have to get up? This bed is comfy…” Then, both eyes opening deceptively quick, he says “Come lay down with me, I can hurry and get ready in a bit.”

You lean your weight on one foot and cross your arms. “No, because then you’ll go back to sleep.”

“Please?” He does his best puppy-eyes, lip wibbling. “I never get to cuddle with you…”

That’s a fat lie. This man is a cuddle bug and takes any chance he can to prove it. “No.”

He sits back up. There’s determination in his eyes now; he’s set on winning this. “I won’t fall asleep! Promise! Just fifteen minutes!” He sighs when you shake your head. “Ten minutes? Eight!...Six?”

“I wanna beat the heat. You’re not getting your cuddles – “ You’re cut off when he reaches out and snags your wrist, pulling you bodily back into bed. He’s so quick. Despite your protests, he flips you on your back and lays on top of you. “Vash!”

But he burrows into your neck. His hair is soft, going to your nose and making it tickle. You huff as he gets comfortable, feeling all his weight press you into the mattress. “Ah, you’re nice and warm,” he murmurs. He takes a big inhale through his nose. “You smell good too.”

“You’re such a pain,” you mutter. “Five minutes. That’s it.”

You feel more than hear his laugh. He presses a chaste kiss to your jaw, humming in contentment and nestling back into your shoulder.

A sigh escapes. Well, five minutes isn’t bad. You reach a hand up and start rubbing his back through his shirt. You feel all the bumps of his scars, the metal plates and wires holding him together. He says they itch a lot. You scrub lightly with your nails, careful, and smile at his hum. Minutes pass by like this. You’re not sure how long. But Vash is happy, and that warms your heart.

“Stampede, you’re such a sap.” You say, and smirk as you feel him still on top of you.

“Take it back,” he mutters into your skin. You blow air out of your nose. He pinches your side, and you squeal. “Take it back!”

“What? You’re the ‘Stampede,’ aren’t you?” You bite your tongue to keep from giggling.

He catches it, though. Vash shifts to rest his chin on your chest, bright blues glaring at you. “Not to you. That’s not my name to you!”

You reach up and brush a hand through his hair. “Oh, you mean ‘Humanoid Typhoon?’ AH!”

Vash sits up and pins your legs down with his hips. You struggle underneath, but his hands are already moving. The tickle attack begins. Your laughter rings out fully. His hands poke your sides, wriggle under your armpits, the crook of your neck.

“Vash! Ha-ha-ha-ha! St-ah-ha-hap! Stop!”

He lets out a few laughs, hands digging into your sides ferociously. “That’s not it! You know that’s not it!”

“That’s your name!” You try slapping his hands away, but he catches them and holds them above your head. He leans down and snorts into your neck before starting to bite at it. It’s just ticklish enough. “Vash!”

“Take it back,” is all he says, using his free hand to tickle under your knees. The shriek you let out has Vash laughing all the harder, and he moves to your thighs. You’re squirming, shaking, trying to gain the upper hand – but Vash is too strong. It’s like he’s holding down a little bug to play with.

A Mayfly.

“Say it!” He’s back at your neck biting where he can. His morning stubble scratches your skin. You squish his nose trying to scrunch your neck up. “I’m not stopping ‘til you do!”

“Birdie! Baby!” You finally relent, a few tears leaking out of your eyes and your laughs turning to wheezes. “Love! Sw-sweetheart!”

Suddenly, there’s banging on the wall next to your head. Your antics are apparently bothering whoever is renting the next room. Vash pauses and looks guiltily toward it.

Taking in gasping breaths, you cough, “Oh, you’re in trouble.”

He finally releases you after giving you a look, his smile following. “You started it.”

“Whatever!” You push him off, slapping his shoulder as he laughs and gets up from the bed. “Go get ready already!”

“Alright, alright.” He picks through his sack by the door to gather clean clothes and some soap. The bathroom door closes, and you’re left to recover from the tickle attack. Your sides hurt, your throat is sore.

He's such a pain in the morning. And you love him all the more for it.

#trigun #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #tristamp #writing #self insert #reader insert #vash x reader #nova writes #vash the stampede x reader #150 bullets #my writing

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samwinchesterswifu · 7 months ago

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Linger pt 2 (Sam Winchester x Reader Angst) (Dean Winchester x Reader Smut)

Season 4 x Episode 22 - Lucifer Rising

Song Inspo: "Linger" by The Cranberries & "Magic Man" by Heart

Warnings: uh smut, p in v (wrap it up), uhm really fucking emotional? Uses of she/her prounouns and women body parts <3

MINORS DNI

A/N: holy. fucking. shit. this is my LONGEST fan fic EVER. im so damn proud of myself. Only took me 2 days to write. Now this isnt an exact episode re-write but there are like 3 scenes from the episode in here and I tried to change up the dialog a little bit so it wasnt exactly copy paste. I truly do love this story. please dont be mad at me lol. but uh yeah more than likely pt 3 coming soon.

Word Count: 3.767k

Summary: Sam goes off with Ruby to stop the seals from breaking, what can she do in the mean time?

She sits on the edge of Bobby’s couch. Her left foot tapping away as she begins to chew her fingers in anticipation. Dean had found him, and instead of her coming along with him, Dean felt it was best for her to stay behind incase things got out of control. The old farm house was deafeningly quiet. Bobby had gone off to calm down after recovering from the shot-gun hit, leaving her alone. It must’ve been around two, or three am but she didn’t care. Sleep was a second thought. What felt like years swimming in her own personal hell, the familiar roar of the Impala pulls into the graveled drive finally separating from her thoughts. She rises from her position and makes her way outside. As she opens the door, Dean is climbing out of the Impala. A serge of panic rises through her once seeing his beat up face. She races down the steps grabbing onto his chin to inspect. Dean groans at the contact.

“What the hell happened?” She asked sternly.

“We got into it.” Dean states rolling his eyes as she continued to examine.

“No shit,” she replies, a snicker sharp on her tongue.

Dean grabs a hold of her wrist stopping her from further jerking his head back and forth. He sighs and locks eyes with her.

“What Dean?” She asks bluntly annoyed by his grasp.

“He was with Ruby.” Dean states as his eyes shift to an apologetic glow underneath the tall street light that loomed over them.

“Figures,” she scoffs, breaking away from Dean’s grip.

She takes a step back from him, wiping her palms against the rough fabric of her jeans.

“I told him not to come back.” Dean spats out.

Her head shoots up to look at him.

“You did WHAT?” She exclaims. Her fists clench, wanting so badly to add to the poor guys face.

“You heard me.” Dean states, arms crossing over his chest.

“You can’t just make that decision for the both of us!” She screams, and pushes him sharply, enough for him to stumble.

“Well I did! You listen to me, he’s not good for you, I’m so sick and tired of watching you be drunk off him when all he does is treat you like shit!” Dean yells at her. Leaving her completely dumbfounded.

“And what gives you the fucking authority to make that decision for me huh?” She raises her voice to match his, stepping toe-to-toe, staring him down.

In a split second, Dean’s hands where cuffing her cheeks and he brings her in for a searing kiss. His lips where sweet but salty, the faint taste of copper mixing in, presumably from the cut on his bottom lip. After a few seconds, she realizes that she was in fact kissing Dean and pulls away. Her hands rested on his shoulders. She looks at him completely shocked. But deep down, she liked it. It was nice to finally have some sort of human connection. At this point, she wasn’t sure if Sam would ever be back in her life and if he would love her enough to be with her. Weighing her options, she reconnects her lips to Deans.

They battle for dominance, teeth clashing as she plays with the hair on the nape of his neck. Dean groans as she tugs on his strands. His sounds leaving her breathless and needy. Dean breaks contact and begins to travel kisses across her cheek, and down her neck. Nibbling harshly at a spot below her ear that made her squirm. His hands traveled down her sides and he taps the curve underneath her ass. Realizing his signal, she jumps. Wrapping her legs tightly against his waist as he holds her steady. Dean reconnects their lips as he begins to walk. But not towards the house. She breaks contact for a brief moment to see where he was headed. He was headed towards the shop.

She locks eyes with Dean. Her gut screaming about whether or not this was the right decision. In this moment, she truly didn’t care. In this moment, Dean seemed like the perfect treat. His features shined against the moonlight and his green eyes were electrified. Her head was spinning by the power Dean seemed to hold at this moment. Maybe, just maybe, Dean could take care of her, treat her right. And that maybe was what she held on to.

She reconnects their lips as they enter the shop. Dean holds her with one arm as he pushes the shop door partially closed. Never once breaking their kiss. He walks her over to shop couch, pushing off the blanket that laid on the seat and some wrenches. They break away as he lays her down. Quickly discarding his shirt on the floor in the process. She does the same and Dean just stares at her.

“Fuck,” he whispers. Taking in her glow. Bobby had left on one of the lamps that were hanging over one of the current cars on the jacks. It was just enough light for them to see each other.

Dean dips down, pulling her breast into his mouth. His mouth was warm and inviting. Moaning at the contact that she didn’t even know she craved. His right hand engulfed her right breast as his tongue played with her left nipple. She squirms against him as soft mewls of pleasure leave her lips. After he seems satisfied with himself, he leans back from her chest. Dean toys with the button of her jeans, after struggling for a bit, he pulls them off gracefully. Groaning at the sight in front of him.

“I don’t know how anyone can pass you up,” he says licking his lips.

A deep blush forms across her cheeks. Its been so long hearing any sort of praise and her soul was being replenished.

As Dean starts to fumble with his belt, she reaches up to help him. Unzipping his jeans, she pushes down his boxers to find him fully erect. She expected Dean to have some length to him, but fuck was he girthy. She wraps her hand around him, slowly pumping. Dean dips his head back in pleasure. She picks up her pace, wiping the pre-cum from his tip to help with the friction. A moan leaves Dean’s lips as she does this and the heat in her core becomes unbearable. She stops, and Dean looks at her completely blissed out from just the slightest touch.

Dean looks at her as if to ask she was okay with this, and if she was ready. She nods and Dean takes a quick moment to kick off his jeans. He places himself back in between her legs and pushes aside her underwear. Dean grabs on to her hips and aligns himself with her. She grabs onto his bicep as he begins to push inside. Both of them seething at the contact. Her grip tightens as he stretches her earning a groan from the man. Dean is slow with it, inching closer and closer until he was completely inside. Both of them moaning at the feeling. She felt so full that it was making her dizzy.

Once allowing her a few moments to adjust to his length, Dean unleashes a brutal attack. His thrust start off fast and hard. Her moans fill up the shop and she prayed that no one was outside to hear her. Dean was a god, he moved exactly the right away and kept his pace steadily. Her first orgasm came within minutes. The second one falling behind shortly after.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking, goo-“ Dean grunts. Being cut off with his own thrust.

The opposite hand from holding himself steady rose and grasped around her throat. This fucking man knew how to choke someone. The pressure from his grasp makes her third orgasm more violent than the first. Her moans turned into screams as he just continued on his attack. A fourth and fifth orgasm rippled through her bones. Her eyes swelled with tears at the immense amount of pleasure she was being supplied.

However, Dean’s thrust became more and more unstable. He was close and she wanted to milk every last drop out of him.

“Cum in me, please,” she grasps out in between moans.

Dean looks at her bewildered by her request but nods.

“Okay, okay, fuck-“ Dean thrusts a few more times before he fills her up completely. His orgasm bringing on her final one at the same time.

Both of them sit there for a moment, Dean was still inside of her as they catch their breaths. Their eyes lock for a moment and both let out a small laugh. Dean slowly pulls out of her, both moaning at the loss of contact. Dean takes a moment before grabbing his and her pants from the floor tossing them to her. Slipping them on, she grabs her discarded shirt and throws it back on as Dean does the same. She was completely wiped by this point. She yawns, and Dean takes note of it. Grabbing the shop blanket that was thrown about, he motions behind her. Surprised by his actions, she allows Dean to settle behind her as he throws the shop blanket across them. He stretches out his right arm to allow her to use it as a pillow as his left arm lays across her waist. She snuggles close to him and starts to drift to sleep feeling protected.

The morning sun peaks through the crack of the shop door, shining just right to stir her from slumber. She blinks her eyes open, looking around to figure out her surroundings as last night’s memories play back. She notices that Dean was no longer behind her and no where in the shop to be found. She sighs, tossing the shop blanket to the side and makes her way back towards the house, seeing Bobby’s car back in the drive. She groans at the thought of having to explain herself to Bobby. But as she gets closer to the house she can hear yelling from inside.

“Don’t make me get my gun boy,” Bobby’s voice of retribution laces through the hallways as she makes her way inside. It was unsettling to hear Bobby stern.

“We are damn near kick off for Armageddon, don’t you think we got bigger fish to fry?” she can hear Dean state from the living room as she makes her presence known. Both men looking towards her as she does so.

“Where the hell have you been?” Bobby asks sternly, arms crossing over his chest.

“I, uh-“ she stutters, pointing towards the door, unsure of how to explain she fell asleep in the shop.

Dean looks up at her innocently, shaking his head as if to say to not say a damn word.

“Never mind.” Bobby huffs.

She gulps, her throat stuffed with anxiety.

“I know you’re pissed, and I’m not making apologies for what he’s done, but he’s your-“

“Blood? He’s my blood, is that what you’re gunna say?” Dean cuts Bobby and he sighs in response.

“He’s your brother.” Bobby states,

“And he’s drowning,” the old man sighs looking between the both of them. Nodding his head towards Dean’s direction to try to get her to weigh in on the situation.

“Maybe Bobbys right Dean, he needs our help.” She chimes in, a groan leaving Dean’s lips at her response.

“I tried to help him Y/N, I already did.” Dean replies.

“So try again.” Bobby rebuttals. However he takes notes of how uneasy Dean had became once she entered the house.

“Did something happen between you two?” Bobby asks, looking at Dean. Dean shoots her a panicked look as Bobby shoots a glare towards her.

“No, no- we’re fine,” she comments. Bobby makes a soft “uh huh” under his breath clearly not believing them.

“it’s too late-“ Dean states as he strides towards the stair case.

“There’s no such thing,” Bobby says trying any way he can to get Dean to calm down.

“No, damn it!” Dean shouts. He was evidently annoyed by this whole conversation.

“No.” He sighs, the man was stubborn she’d give him that.

“Look, we got to face the facts. Sam never wanted to be apart of this family. He hated our life growing up. Ran away to school first chance he got. Now it’s like Déjà VU all over again.” Dean shifts on the edge of his heels as he leans down to sit on the couch behind him.

“Well I am sick and tired of chasing after him, you should be too.” Dean pauses, point directly at her.

“Screw him, he can do what he wants.” Dean sneers.

“You don’t mean that-“ Bobby starts before getting cut off again by Dean.

“Yes I do Bobby,” he sighs. “Sammy’s gone.”

“I’m not even sure if he’s still my brother anymore. If ever was,” Dean’s voice cracks at the pain. A deep look forms over his eyes, a sad one. It hurt her to see him so distraught over Sam, because she was too.

Bobby pushes himself off his desk, pacing back and forth before suddenly throwing everything off of it.

“You stupid, stupid son of a bitch!” Bobby yells and Dean rises to meet him. She backs away from them honestly a bit scared from the interaction.

“Well boohoo! I am so sorry your feelings are hurt princess! Are you under the impression that family supposed to make you feel good? Bake you an apple pie maybe? They’re supposed to make you miserable! That’s why they’re family!” Bobby screams, stomping his foot in frustration.

“I told him that if he walked out that door to not come back, and that’s what he did Bobby!” Dean yells back, walking past him as his fist clenches.

“You sound like a brat-“ Bobby mocking in his response.

“No,” Dean whispers coming near her, and his back facing Bobby. Unsure of how to comfort him in the moment.

“You sound like John. Well let me tell you something, John was a coward.” Bobby states.

“You are a better man than your daddy ever was.” Bobby replies, Dean snickers in bewilderment.

“Don’t be him.” Bobby’s words cut through her. Growing up around John Winchester taught her a lot about how not to be a family and she was starting to regret pushing Sam away.

She could see Dean thinking, and he looks to her with pleading eyes begging for help in those moment. She shook her head, and dean scoffed again turning to face Bobby when suddenly he was gone.

“Dean?!” She screeches, her voice cracking in the process. Both her and Bobby looking frantically around the house.

“Oh, balls!” Bobby yells, kicking the side of his desk.

But just as suddenly Dean disappeared, Castiel stood before her.

“Hello Y/N,” Castiel greets her, looking towards Bobby giving him a nod.

“Where the hell is Dean Castiel!” She asks ready to take on the angel in front of her.

“We have him, it’s almost time.” Castiel bluntly replies.

“We? You mean the angels have him?” She asks a new wave of panic sifts through her blood stream.

“Yes, we have him, don’t worry he’s safe.” Castiel states. Before she could respond Castiel was gone again.

She screams in frustration, grabbing the nearest book and tossing it in the direction where the angel once stood.

“Here,” Bobby says tapping her shoulder and handing her a glass of whiskey.

“Thanks,” she responds. Taking in a heaping swig to off set her nerves.

Setting down the cup, she lays down on the closest couch stretching her legs out and sighing at todays events.

“So, what happened between you two?” Bobby asks again this time really letting on that he needed to know.

“I did something stupid Bobby.” She replies reaching over to the cup of whiskey taking another sip before continuing.

“Dean and I slept together.” She blurts out. Groaning at the thought of last night.

“You did what?” Bobby asks, a sliver of disbelief hanging on his tongue.

“Yeah, last night, in your- in your shop.” She grunts out. Letting out another huff in embarrassment.

“You stupid stupid girl! Seriously! Dean of ALL people?” Bobby yells making her jump at his sudden voice raise.

“I know Bobby-“ She starts before getting cut off.

“I don’t think you understand woman, if Sam finds and he will, he’s gunna be pissed.” Bobby snickers taking back the cup that he had previously handed to her. A quick ‘hey!’ at his action leaves her lips.

“What were you thinking?” Bobby sighs shaking his head at her.

“I was upset too Bobby, Sam’s made it evident that he doesn’t want to be with me.” She shrugs. Completely drained by everything that’s happened over the last 48 hours.

“He does want to be with you, you idjit.” Bobby tells her bluntly. Almost as if they were repeating the same conversation as before, but centered on her this time.

“No he doesn’t Bobby,” she responds, tears choking up her words as she fight back all the hurt she experienced because of the youngest Winchester.

“Yes he does Y/N, that kid is so madly in love with you he’s doing all of this for you- to give you a better world, I know his actions doesn’t seem it but that’s what he doing kiddo, for you.” Bobby says, handing her back the previously taken whiskey glass.

She lays there silently for a moment before taking another sip of the glass. She doesn’t respond to Bobby before sitting up and pushing her self off the couch. Grabbing her cellphone that laid on the side table, she makes her way outside. She walks around to the shop to get some privacy incase Bobby came looking.

Taking a deep breath, she calls Sam’s cellphone. After a few rings its sent to voice mail where she hesitates for a quick moment of what she was going to say.

“Sammy,” she starts, taking another deep breath before continuing.

“You don’t have to do this. Come back to Bobby’s please, we’ll figure out another way, you and me, come back to me, please. My sweet boy please, just come back to me.” She finishes the phone call.

Her heart ached, frustrated and annoyed with herself. How could she be so stupid and go behind Sam’s back like that? The sun was almost rested in the sky at this point in the evening, the moon peaking over the tower of cars that laid in the salvage yard. She decides to go back inside, wanting to distract herself with cooking something at the very least.

But as she turns around to start her way back, she is met with Castiel and Dean in front of her. Dean tries to say something before Castiel is grabbing her and before she can protest they were standing in front of the prophet Chuck.

“God damn it Cas!” She yells, stumbling, and trying to catch her balance.

“Oh this isn’t supposed to be happening-“ Chuck says while simultaneously on the phone.

“No- lady this is definitely supposed to be happening, but I uh, I gotta call you back.” Chuck says to the woman on the phone before disconnecting the call.

“St. Marys? What is that a convent?” Dean asks reading over the newly written Supernatural Script.

“Yeah but-but you guys aren’t supposed to be there.” Chuck responds. “You’re not in this story,” he finishes, completely flustered by their arrival.

“We’re making it up as we go.” Cas states. Dean looks between the angel and her, also confused by the angels actions. She shrugs at his glance.

Then, the familiar sound of angel static and bright lights fill the room.

“Oh no not this again!” Chuck groans, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“It’s the archangel!” Castiel screams over the sound. A wave of panic flushes Dean’s features and he looks like he is a bout to pass out from the sheer rush of adrenaline.

“I’ll hold them off, just stop Sam!” Castiel yells, looking between her and Dean.

Touching both of them at the same time, they’re transported to a new location. Dean takes a moment to look around to realize that they’re at the convent. He grabs a hold of her hand and starts to walk down the hallway in front of them. The round a corner to find Sam and Ruby in the main chapel room with Lilith on the ground. Ruby turns to look at the two and smirks. A deep scrawl forms on both of their faces, preparing to kill the demon bitch. With a flick of her wrist, Ruby closes the door on them.

Rushing to the door way, they both start to bang on the old wooden doors. Yelling his name at the top of their lungs. She pushes Dean out of the way and uses her whole body weight against the door to try to pry it open. She was desperate at this point, tears threatened to break loose from her lashes. Wanting nothing more than to save him.

“Move!” Dean yells. Turning around she see’s him holding a statue and she grabs a hold of it. The two of them ram the door open and Ruby turns to face them.

Grabbing the demon knife from Dean’s pocket she strides towards Ruby.

“You’re too late.” Ruby laughs.

“I don’t care,” she snickers back.

Sam stands up quickly, grabbing a hold of Rubys arms as she makes the final blow. Twisting the knife to make sure she was truly dead. Ruby starts to flash out, and sick smile forms on her lips as she watches.

Ruby finally drops dead and Sam pushes Ruby to the side. Sam takes a moment to look at her, and Dean before resting on her face.

“I’m sorry,” Sam chokes out.

He takes a step forward and his hands come to cuff her cheeks, bringing her in for a quick kiss. The ground beings to rumble as a bright light shoots from the center. This throws off their balance making her fall into Sam. Dean looks between the two of them, his words stuck on his throat unsure of what to say. They all three turn to look at the hole that was beginning to form. Dean grabs onto both of them frantically.

“Y/N, Sammy, lets go-“ Dean spats out. Sam grabs on to Dean, staring down the light.

“Dean?” Sammy asks and Dean looks to him concerned.

Sam chokes on broken tears.

“He’s coming-“

#sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader angst #dean winchester x reader smut #season 4 supernatural

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impala-dreamer · 1 year ago

Text

Underneath It All

~Jensen's grown out his beard, hair, muscles for The Boys, and Y/N has some issues with all the extra hair. Luckily, together, they find a new kink that neither knew he had...~

Jensen x Reader

1,353 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Hair Pulling. Bearded Jensen. Oh my... the beard.

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

“Jesus- it’s so big!”

“You love it, you know you do…”

“I don’t know what to do with it!”

“Just let it happen, baby… let it happen… I’ll go easy on you.”

Y/N cringed as Jensen dove in for another kiss, his newly-giant beard caressing her face like a thousand tiny tentacles, and not in a good way. “I can’t!” She shoved at his shoulders less than playfully, and an exaggerated frown took up residence beneath the bushy beard.

“Come on,” he pouted, sitting back on his knees, “I haven’t seen you in weeks.” His big left hand slid slowly down her bare thigh and his right ran up his own. “Little Dean misses you…”

Just before his fingers could sneak past the border of her panties, Y/N swatted him away. “I’ve asked you not to call it that,” she laughed, shaking her head.

His plump lips twisted into a half pucker. “Well, it’s true.”

She sat up, palm reaching forward to cup his balls through the pale blue boxers. “I’ve missed it too...” Her eyes lifted upwards, trailing hungrily over his smooth, tanned flesh. He’d used his Toronto quarantine to bulk up a bit, putting on more muscle than she’d seen in forever. His abs were appearing again, his chest popped beautifully, and his arms… She could cum from just dreaming about those big arms. Unfortunately, Y/N neglected to stop her gaze from reaching the beard and even though it was soft and well groomed, she couldn’t stand it. “But… no.”

Dejected and a little embarrassed, Jensen sighed heavily and rolled back onto his ass, turning slightly away, his long legs swinging over the side of the bed. “Well- shit.”

Y/N reached for him, grabbing up the hand he let drop down onto his thigh. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m just not used to all the… It’s a lot.”

With his free hand, Jensen tugged on his new chin covering. “I fuckin’ hate this. Can’t wait to shave again.”

“Never thought I’d hear you say that,” she chuckled, sitting up to scoot closer. “It’s not bad… just a bit… much.”

“It’s horrible,” he snit; shoulders drooping. He let his beard go and raked a hand through his hair. It, too, was incredibly long, curling around his ears and hanging down to his shoulders. “I look like a yeti.” He tugged at the long locks at the nape of his neck. “Gonna cut this too. Maybe Eric’ll let me shave it all off.”

A gasp left Y/N’s lips and she shook her head quickly. “Don’t you dare!”

Jensen rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna. Gonna Bic it all off.”

“I’ll divorce you.”

A tiny smirk lit beneath the beard. “Thought you hated it. Won’t even let me kiss you.”

Y/N flipped over, crawling on her knees until she was behind him. She ran her hands down through his hair, enjoying the thick softness. “The beard- yes. But this…” She gave him a gentle tug and Jensen moaned. “This is beautiful. Never seen you with it so long.”

He closed his eyes as she pulled his hair again, front teeth digging down into his bottom lip as another moan escaped. “Mmm. Yeah?”

She swept the curtain back to clear a space on his neck for a kiss. “Oh, yes,” she whispered as her fingers ran through it. “It’s beautiful.”

His head rolled to the side as her lips danced on his throat. Her nails scratched against his scalp and Jensen’s stomach tensed as a wave of pleasure spread through him. “It’s not bad,” he breathed, pulse beginning to race. “I just don’t look like me. Don’t feel like… myself.”

Loving arms wrapped around his chest and Y/N pressed herself up against him. “Jen, you’re amazing and so fucking hot.” She kissed his cheek, let her hand slide gently down his stomach.

“Even with this ferret stapled to my face?”

Her fingers grazed across his covered cock. “Even with the ferret, yes.” Another kiss landed below his ear, another hand pushed through his hair. “Still fucking sexy as hell underneath it all.”

His breath came out in a husky groan as her fingers tangled in his hair. “I don’t know about that.”

“I do.” She pulled his hair hard and his cock jerked beneath her hand.

He grit his teeth, cheeks flushing hot beneath all the hair. “Fuck.”

“Look at yourself,” she urged, right hand slipping into the pocket of his boxers to trace his shaft. “Look in the mirror, Jensen…”

Green eyes lifted to their twins in the mirror across the way. Jensen shivered as Y/N yanked on his hair and wrapped her fingers around the head of his cock, slowly stroking.

“See?” She ran her thumb over his slit. “Gorgeous.”

His hips jumped upwards, forcing his cock through the tight ring of her hand. “Yeah…”

She kissed his collarbone, bit down when she wanted more, loving the look of lust that clouded his eyes in the mirror. “You’re amazing.” Her hand tightened in his hair and his head fell back to rest on her shoulder.

“Fuck, baby…”

“Just relax,” she teased, picking up her pace, feeling the blood pulse through his erection. They watched together as his body reacted to her touch: the muscles in his torso flexing, his thighs shaking subtly, the ropes in his stretched throat throbbing. His breath was fast, his lips wet and ruddy.

“Jesus, I’m gonna cum,” he hissed, eyes rolling back to white as Y/N gave his hair another good yank. “Fuck!”

“Go on then,” she whispered, lips on his ear, tongue tracing the shell. “I wanna see it…”

Jensen leaned back against her and lifted his hips, strong body working with her as she pumped him faster. “Yeah… fuck. Like that. Come on.” He froze in her arms as he came, holding his breath as he shot a hot load into her palm. “Fuck!”

Y/N kissed his neck as everything relaxed, smoothed the hair out of his eyes, slowly pulled her hand from his shorts. “That was fun,” she grinned, winking at the yeti in the mirror.

Jensen exhaled heavily and sat up, eyes unfocused and happy as he nodded in agreement. “Hell yeah, it was.”

Cupping her hand, Y/N jumped up from the bed, heading for the adjoining bathroom. Jensen grabbed her wrist before she could escape, spinning her back around and down into his lap.

“What are you doing?” she laughed, wary of the handful of spunk precariously held in her fist.

He leaned close, beard once more tickling her chin. “Just saying thank you,” he said, easily reaching her lips before she could push away. His kiss was tender and wet, and Y/N let herself give in for just a moment.

“Mmm.”

“See, the beard ain’t so bad,” he joked, nuzzling her nose with his.

Chin hair snuck into her mouth and Y/N gagged, finally pushing him away. “Yeah, it is!” Hopping up, she made it to the bathroom and Jensen heard the tap turn on.

“You’re really serious? You’re gonna just- not let me touch you till this is gone?”

Y/N looked back, drying her hand on the towel hanging behind the door. “Uh… no one said you’re not going to touch me.” She emerged, a slick smile upon her lips. “You’re just gonna have to figure out how to do it without the beard touching me.”

He laughed and scratched at his cheek. “I don’t see how that’s possible.”

Bending over, Y/N dragged her tiny panties from her hips and Jensen sucked in a deep, excited breath.

“Well, you better figure it out, stud,” she said, crawling back into bed and spreading her knees wide. “Because it’s my turn...”

Jensen sucked his teeth as he thought for a moment and then pounced, falling down onto her with a wink and a sexy smile. “I guess I better get to it then.”

She hummed and wrapped a hand around the back of his shaggy head, pulling him down for a kiss. “Love you, baby,” she whispered. “Beard and all.”

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Reblog to save a writer's sanity

#fanfic #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen/you #jensen ackles/you #flusmt

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whorediaries-09 · 1 year ago

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take another drag;

pairing- dealer!sirius black x reader warning(s)- 18+ content, usage of drugs. a/n- this is for my kinkotober event. dealer sirius has me on a chokehold 😵‍💫

ps- here's the inspo whores. thank me later. my man can slut me out anyday.

kink- choking (number 12)

the slut club kinkotober rules kinkotober masterlist

turn me to ashes'

'i'll give you your money!' you screams are muffled by a thud as he pushes you against the wall, his hand enclosing around your chin. he tilts your head at an angle, making you look up at his dark gray eyes. his touch, so hot on your skin restricts any sane thought and you're thinking how you'd look underneath him, as he fucked you senseless.

but it's the chase he goes for. so you don't give in. so a grimaced feature sits atop your face instead.

'yeah sure,' he drawls. 'you're a little screwy. can't even afford your rent and you're out here smoking my shit.'

'sirius, i'll do anything if you postponed the payment,' you say, desperation sown into your voice. oh and you would. sirius considers your words for a moment, his hot breath fanning over your face. the ends of his choppy hair tickle your face, and you feel him pushing his hips against your torso.

'what gives you the idea i came here without the intention of making you do anything?' he whispers. his tongue rolls over your face without touching it, as he hardens the strength of his hand around your jaw. his free hand trails over the fabric of your trousers.

and he's pulling down your pants, tearing off your shirt.

'fuck,' you whimper, as he unbuckles his belt, the metal striking against the floor of your apartment with a clank. your breathing shudders, and he wraps your legs around his waist. his erections sits underneath your pussy folds so warm, so close yet so far. he grits his teeth, pushing himself in you so fast, and you think it knocks out the breath you had left in your lungs.

it's a fast, burning yet delicious stretch and you think it makes you loose the strength of your knees. you bite your lip and he's enclosing his hand around your throat, his hips rutting into yours, profanities and his name falling off your lips like a chant. he's breathing heavy into your ears, and the oxygen flow is cut off to your brain.

he's relentless, scandalous while he abuses your pussy for all the times you hadn't paid him. your eyes roll backwards with each thrust, his cock hitting your spot perfectly. it's a rhythm and a roll his hips, along with the force of his hand against your neck that makes you loose your decency and you're begging for him.

'sirius please,' he muffles his growl against your hair, destroying in the name of exploring your guts, and you're letting out breathy moans with the furious orgasm that coils within you.

'beg, beg for my cock,' he croons, and your back scratches against wall he holds you against.

'please, please-sirius-shit...' you moan. you feel dizzy, and your orgasm so on the edge consumes you from within and you babble incoherent words. he laughs, and there's a cruel mirth behind his voice.

your pussy walls, flutter around his cock, and he pounds into you, rocks into you and with each thrust, your slickness welcomes him, and it consumes you and him both. your clit rubs deliciously on his torso and simultaneously, his cock hits your sweet spot. your throat rips out a fetishized moan and you're breaking apart on his cock, while he's chasing his own release. your orgasm clutches his cock so tight, he resents the force on your own throat, and menacingly you wonder how he's not suffocated you to death yet.

'st-stop-' you beg, but he doesn't acknowledge you. he's chasing his own release, and the way you grip him drives him into a high of insanity.

'oh? is this too much for this poor cunt?' he mocks-and before the either of you know it, he's painting the walls of your abused cunt with his cum. it's filthy, his cum dripping onto the floor of your apartment from your used hole. you unwrap your shaking legs from his waist, and he lets go off your throat. you cough and splutter, taking in heavy breaths as he makes you kneel on the floor. he sits beside you, holding your hair while you struggle with your breathes.

he whispers in your ear, his finger still messing with your stimulated clit.

'take another drag, and i'll turn you to fucking ashes.'

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black smut #the marauders #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black thoughts #sirius black fluff #sirius black x you #sirius black fanart #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x oc #marauders era #kinkotober

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tortillamastersblog · 5 months ago

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꧁ Angels Don’t Cry - Part 4 | Mor ꧂

Pairings: Mor x reader

Warnings: Mentions of torture, injuries, blood, kidnapping, vomiting and explicit language

Summary: After Hybern’s defeat, the Inner Circle makes a grave discovery in the late King’s dungeons. . .

Next Part | Masterlist

________________________________________________

Incessant knocking on my door makes me jolt out of bed. My wings drag over the floor as I rush to pull on some clothes because I went straight to bed last night after stripping down to my underwear.

I glance at the clock on my nightstand to see it’s still early, which makes me wonder who could possibly be at the door right now.

“One second!” I shout, almost tripping over my own feet when I try to pull on a pair of sweatpants.

The knocking stops and after making sure my hair isn’t a complete mess I unlock the door and open it.

“Mor?”

The blonde is still dressed in her clothes from last night but she’s put on a jacket on over her dress and taken her hair out of its ponytail. I rub my eyes to make sure I’m not hallucinating.

“What are you—?”

“You’re my mate,” she blurts out.

My mouth snaps shut and my eyes widen. “I— What?”

“You’re my mate,” she repeats herself quietly and looks up to meet my eyes. She’s on the brink of crying and her chin wobbles as she tries to hold back a sob. “I tried to tell you last night, but you wouldn’t listen and then I saw you and Elain in the garden and I got so jealous and I regret all those awful things I said to you. . . I was just so scared because the moment I saw you in your cell the bond snapped into place for me and-and you were on the brink of dying, and I couldn’t bear losing someone else again, especially not my mate, so I kept my distance, but then you started to heal and I was still so scared and. . . I pushed you away and hurt you because I hoped it would stop the bond from forming completely, but then time went by and this hole inside my chest got even worse and—“

“Stop.” I raise a hand and blink rapidly, completely overwhelmed by that tidal wave of information. “Slow down.”

Mor wipes at a tear that managed to roll down her cheek. “Sorry. . .”

“No, it’s. . .” I sigh, still processing everything before stepping aside and gesturing for her to come in. “You know what, why don’t you come in and we talk about this properly over some breakfast. Have you had breakfast yet?”

She shakes her head and steps into the apartment with wide eyes.

“Okay then, make yourself comfortable on the couch,” I instruct softly, after taking her coat from her and hanging it up. “I’ll just freshen up real quick and get some food.”

She nods wordlessly and I vanish into the bathroom, brushing my teeth and washing my face before going to the kitchen and grabbing some of yesterday’s pastries. I also cut up some fruit and make two cups of coffee before taking everything into the living room where Mor is sitting on the couch with her legs folded underneath her.

I hand her a plate and one of the coffees before settling down on the other end of the small couch.

“So. . .” I pop a piece of fruit into my mouth. “You’re my mate?”

She sighs softly and takes a sip of coffee, nodding.

“And you’ve known how long, exactly?” I ask, still not able to wrap my head around this new piece of information.

Mor is my mate. She’s my mate and she was thinking about me when I was gift shopping with Feyre and Elain.

Why was she thinking about me then? What was she thinking?

Clearing her throat softly, Mor puts her cup down on the coffee table. “I’ve always known I had a mate, but until we found you, I had no idea who you were. . .” Her brown eyes flicker over my face as she takes in my reaction to all of this. “I had dreams, well not really dreams but nightmares about this dark little cell for as long as I can remember, but then something in my head clicked and I realized they weren’t dreams. . .”

I shudder when she says that because all those times I was in my cell, bleeding and broken, ready to give up, there was this warm feeling in the pit of my stomach that kept me going. It was her, unknowingly being by my side and giving me hope and the strength to hold on. . .

“That was you,” I gasp. “Sometimes when I had a nightmare, it would suddenly stop and all I’d see after would be a starry night sky. You sent me that vision, didn’t you?”

She smiles sadly and nods. “Even though I didn’t know you, I couldn’t bear the thought of you suffering.”

I exhale shakily and take a bite of my pastry to distract myself as Mor goes on explaining.

“The day we found you, the bond snapped into place for me. It was like a punch to my stomach and seeing you so bruised and broken, it- it did something to me. I’ve loved before and I lost that love, so seeing you so hurt and on the brink of death. . . I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you, too.

“I knew what it was like to lose a love, but I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose a mate, my mate, so I kept my distance and hurt you with all the things I said in hopes of driving you away before the bond snapped into place for you too. . . That way you’d never know about it and I wouldn’t risk losing anyone else, but-“ she buries her face in her hands and sobs- “but then I did lose you, after all. . . The way you looked at me the night I accused you of sleeping with Elain. . . It broke my heart. I managed to drive you away for good and even though that’s what I originally wanted, I realized in that moment that I couldn’t live without you in my life. If not as my mate, then even just as my friend.”

I take a sip of my own coffee to wash down the pastry I just ate. Then, it’s silent for a moment as I take in what Mor just said.

She said some pretty messed up stuff, but I get why she did it. It still hurts, thinking about what she insinuated and accused me of, but I get it.

It doesn’t change the fact that I can’t forgive her for it just yet though. Neither does the fact that she’s my mate.

Mate’s might be a complementary match power-wise, but they don’t always work on a deeper level, a spiritual level.

“When Cassian threw you off the roof,” Mor whispers when I continue to stay silent, “something inside of me died. The look on your face when you went over the edge. . . It still haunts me and I jumped after you without thinking. All I felt was this urge to protect you, and then when I wrapped my arms around you and winnowed us to the ground. . . I’ve never felt relief like that before. You were okay. . . You were okay, but then you flinched when I touched you and my heart shattered.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and press the heels of my hands against my eyes. “You jumped after me?”

“Yes.”

A simple answer to a simple question, really, but it reveals just how deep the bond runs for her.

I drop my hands back into my lap and open my eyes again to see that she still hasn’t touched her food. “Do you not like strawberries?”

“Wha—? Oh, no. . . I do, but. . .” she trails off quietly as if to hint at something, but I just raise a questioning eyebrow and gesture for her to go on. “Eating this. . . I mean, you offered me this food and if I were to eat it-it would mean you accept the bond.”

My eyes widen. I’d forgotten about that. . . I don’t know how to feel about the bond (which has yet to snap into place for me), but I’m definitely not ready to accept or reject it yet.

“I-“ I reach forward to take the food from her before thinking better of it- “didn’t know. . . Well, I did, but I forgot and—“

“It’s okay.” Mor smiles sadly and places the plate on the coffee table. “I kind of figured you weren’t aware of what you were doing.”

I dip my chin in thanks and take a sip of coffee to hide my grimace. Then, we go back to sitting in silence.

I know I don’t love her, that’s for sure, but the connection between us is undeniable, especially right now. The bond might still only be one-sided, but it doesn’t mean I can’t feel deep, underlying desperation and regret tugging on my insides that is definitely not my own.

“I should go.

My eyes snap up as she gets to her feet with a thin-lipped smile. She has dark circles underneath her eyes which I am only now noticing and her hair is in disarray.

“Yeah, okay.” I get to my feet as well and watch her make her way to the door where she puts on her coat.

“Y/N?” Her hand is on the doorknob.

I clear my throat. “Yes?”

“I know I said it before, but. . . I’m sorry. For everything,” she says quietly and then she’s gone.

Gone, just like that, without waiting for me to accept, or reject her apology. She’s not expecting anything from me and she’s not trying to pressure me into anything.

Later that morning when I return to the Town House to open the presents with the others, Mor isn’t there, but my gift for her is missing.

A little over a week later, as I’m making my way home from work, I come across Rhysand and Feyre who seem to be in a hurry as they make their way out of a restaurant.

“Woah, hey, Y/N!” Feyre exclaims after bumping into me.

“Hi, you good?” I ask with a breathless laugh which makes her nod frantically.

“Yes, yes, I’m okay, but we just got an urgent message from Azriel about the Cour of Nightmares,” she explains without letting go of Rhysand’s hand.

It’s Friday night, which means it’s date night for them and I kind of feel bad knowing that this is definitely not the first time their time together has been interrupted.

I raise my eyebrows. “Oh?”

Rhysand nods as well, although he does it a lot more composed than his mate. “Keir and his men are on their way to Velaris. It was agreed that they get to visit the city after the war because the Darkbringers fought alongside our troops, but they weren’t supposed to get here until next week in time for Starfall.”

“Well, shit. . .” I mumble which makes Feyre snort.

“Yeah, you can say that again,” she says. “We’re going to meet them at the border right now to remind them of our deal.”

“Wow, okay then. Good luck with that, I guess,” I say, not knowing what else to say.

Rhysand smirks at that. “Thank you, but we don’t need luck to put Keir in his place.”

I laugh at that and step aside to let them pass. “Still, a little luck never hurt anybody.”

Feyre squeezes my shoulder with a tight smile and then they’re gone.

I tuck my wings in tightly to somewhat shield them from the cold before continuing my walk home. I’ve had a long day and I can’t wait to take a shower and then sink into bed with a good book.

As fate would have it though, those plans fly out the window the moment I find a familiar blonde sat outside my apartment door.

“Mor? What are you doing here?” I approach slowly so as to not startle her.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” she says, looking up and when her eyes meet mine my heart sinks at the way hers are bloodshot and filled with tears.

I’m quick to kneel next to her, but I don’t touch her, not knowing if she wants that right now. “Are you okay?”

She shakes her head and bites the inside of her cheek to suppress a sob. Tears stream down her bare face and the hurt that claws at my insides is written all over her face.

“Okay, okay, why don’t you come inside then? I’ll make us some hot chocolate. . .” I offer and when she nods, I get back to my feet. She takes my offered hand and lets me pull her up before I unlock the door and usher her inside.

She takes off her coat to revealing the long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants she’s wearing underneath before making her way to the couch where she wordlessly takes a seat and pulls a blanket over her feet.

Something in my chest stirs at the sight of her like this, but I’m quick to ignore it as I get to work on making the hot chocolate I promised.

I fill two mugs with it once it’s done and take them to the couch where I hand one to Mor and put the other down on the coffee table.

“You cold?” I ask and when Mor simply shrugs I kneel down by the fireplace get started on lighting a fire.

It started snowing on my way home and even though the apartment is heated by magic, I still like the warmth the fire provides. It also gives me something to do while Mor calms down and gathers her thoughts.

“My father. . .” she says after a few moments as we both watch the logs in the fireplace catch fire, “He’s on his way here.”

I sigh and get to my feet to join her on the couch. “I know.”

She doesn’t seem surprised when I take a seat next to her, our knees brushing as I pull my legs beneath me to mirror her position. “He’s coming here, to my home, to the place I love most in this world.”

I grab my hot chocolate and take a sip, watching her over the rim of my mug.

“I hate him,” she says, clutching her own mug in her lap, “but I’m also scared of him. He’s tormented me my entire life, and even though he has no say in it anymore, I still can’t shake the hold he has over me.”

Judging by the way she whispers those last few words, I’m guessing she’s never admitted that to anyone before, so I tentatively place a hand on her knee.

I don’t know why I did it, but it seemed like the right thing to do, so I don’t pull it back when her eyes snap up to look at me.

A few strands of her blonde hair have escaped the bun at the back of her neck and I have to force myself not to act on the sudden urge to tug them behind her ears.

What is happening to me? A little over two weeks ago I was ready to never speak to her again, and now she’s here in my apartment, drinking my hot chocolate, and confiding in me. . .

“Mor,” I start carefully, making sure to keep my voice low, “I may not know exactly what you’re going through, but what I do know is that you’re stronger, smarter, and kinder than your father will ever be. . . He’s an asshole with an ego that rivals Cassian’s in size and he’s pathetic if he thinks he can actually break the deal he made with Rhys and Feyre.”

“I know that, but—“

“No, I don’t think you do,” I insist, moving a little closer. “You have a family now that is willing to protect you and the things you love with everything they’ve got. They are not going to let Keir hurt you any more than he already has and they won’t let him ruin Velaris for you.”

A singular tear rolls down Mor’s cheek and before I know it I have a pair of arms flung around my neck. I freeze for a split second, but then the unexplainable urge to comfort her overcomes me and I wrap my arms around her and pull her closer until she’s almost in my lap.

She sobs against my neck, shaking in my arms and I make sure both our hot chocolates are out of the way before folding my wings over her and cocooning us in place.

“I’m sorry,” she sobs, her arms around me tightening.

I run my hands up and down her back and shake my head. “Hey, don’t do that. Don’t apologize for feeling like this.“

“No,” she chokes out, “I’m sorry for how I treated you. For everything I said and did and—You should hate me. Why don’t you hate me?”

I sigh and close my eyes. “You already apologized for that,” I remind her. “And I honestly don’t think I could ever hate you.”

It’s true. . . I physically can’t hate her. I was prepared to never see her or speak to her again, but I just can’t hate her. My heart won’t let me. . .

“But—“

“No.” I shush her and squeeze her in my arms. “I don’t hate you, okay? End of discussion.”

That makes her chuckle softly which in turn makes me smile against her temple.

“Thank you,” she mumbles against my chest and before long, she’s fallen asleep against me.

It feels right having her in my arms like this, but the part of me that was hurt by her makes me push those feelings down and pull back from our hug-turned-cuddle.

I lay her down on the couch gently before moving to pull the blanket up to her chest, only to freeze when my eyes land on the golden necklace peeking out from under her shirt.

It’s the one I got her for Winter Solstice and the sight of her actually wearing it makes my heart flutter. The tear-shaped ruby attached to it is hidden beneath her shirt, but it’s definitely the necklace I got her and the fact that she’s wearing it means she must like it.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” I whisper before finally covering her with the blanket and retreating to my bedroom.

The next morning when I go back into the living room, Mor is gone. The blanket is folded and draped over the back of the couch and our hot chocolate mugs are in the kitchen sink.

For a moment my heart sinks at the prospect of her just leaving without saying goodbye, but then my eyes land on a small handwritten note on the coffee table.

Thank you.

- M

I stare at it for a moment, studying the simple message written on it in sloping letters before folding it up and shoving it in my pocket with a warm feeling in the pit of my stomach.

________________________________________________

#x reader #fluff #mor x reader #morrigan x reader #mor acotar #acotar

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adaptacy · 1 year ago

Note

Hiii! I dunno if I can request here I’m kinda new to tumblr ✨ but I’d really love a Johnny x reader thing with the reader being way smaller than him n chubby (I’m talkin like 5’3) and maybe the reader being a little insecure about it because y’know he’s fit and tall. And him being completely bewildered by it because he doesn’t really get why she’s insecure about those things. BECAUSE he finds those things really attractive- y’know??? It’s a big “sorry I know I’m not the skinniest..” “what” like just complete confusion 😭😭

fluff definitely! Maybe some nsfw as well if you are comfy with it? 🥺

yas! girlie me 2 i am v similarly built - no nsfw cause i did not have much steam when writing this but its a really cute concept so i wanted to write something for it :)

Johnny Slaughter x Chubby!Reader

Your fingers picked at the strands of his hair as his head rested on your chest, both of you idly watching a movie on a boxy television. Growing bored with the film, Johnny turned his head and kissed your sternum. Not thinking much of the action, you remained idly focused on the television, which Johnny didn't quite appreciate. His fingers grabbed the hem of your shirt and snuck it upwards until it revealed your stomach and rested underneath your bra, and you frowned, crossing your hands over your stomach.

"Johnny, quit it. What?" You pouted, trying to pull your shirt back down, but Johnny was holding it in place.

"Why do you do that?" He asked, looking more confused than upset.

"Do what?"

"That- the crossin' yer arms over your stomach, you always complain when I kiss it. What's that about?"

You shrugged, blushing slightly. "I dunno. Just... Sorry, I'm just kinda uncomfy with it, I guess," you replied, looking away.

He released your shirt, grabbing your chin instead and making you look at him. "Okay, but why?"

"Cause, it makes me feel weird."

"Weird how?"

"Bad weird."

"You feel bad weird when I kiss your stomach?" He clarified, and you gave a small nod. "Why?"

"Cause I.. I don't know, I feel sorta bad. Like... I- I don't know, Johnny."

"Sure you do. Yer just holdin' back. Talk to me, sweetpea."

You frowned again, letting out a quiet sigh. "Because it draws attention to my chubbiness. And it's embarrassing."

"Why?"

"Why? Well, like, 'cause I don't like the way it looks. It's stupid, I know, but it makes me feel bad. Like, insecure."

"About what?"

"My stomach. I just told you that." Your eyes narrowed, and he looked around, appearing confused.

"What's there to be insecure about?"

"It's not flat. Like- like yours."

"Of course it ain't. You're not me. Why would it be?"

"Like a lotta girls have. I feel like you deserve something better, I guess. Someone prettier, more fit," you murmur, your blush growing more intense as you stated your confession.

"I don't want someone 'more fit'. I want you," he responded, forcing your hands away from your stomach, pinning your wrists to your sides. "Yer perfect for me, darlin'. Got more to bite," he snickered, running his teeth along your skin before gently biting your insecurity, making you wince.

Somehow, the sentiment made your frown lessen, but you still mumbled a complaint. "Still, it's just.."

"What now?" He looked up at you, his voice muffled due to the skin between his teeth.

"Don't you ever want someone more... you? Taller,-"

"Darlin', you're perfect. I ain't just sayin' that. Yer easy to carry, you look amazin' underneath me, and you don't stand a chance against me. What more could a humble cowboy want?" He chuckled, and you cracked a smile, rolling your eyes. "What? Ain't believe me?"

"Not really, but-" You paused as he looked up and glared at you, his eyes narrow, convincing you to give it up. He then gently bit on your skin again, and squeezed at your stomach with his palm, humming against your belly. "Johnny, it's fine, I believe-"

For the third time, you were cut off as Johnny leaned towards you and captured your lips, forcing you into silence so you couldn't complain. He broke the kiss, keeping his mouth only an inch from yours as he spoke. "You're fine, sweetpea. Don't need someone taller, or more fit. You fit me. The more of you there is, the merrier, darlin'. Don't go doubtin' that," he explained, and you couldn't keep yourself from smiling.

"Fine," you sighed, willing to accept defeat if he was going to be so convincing. He chuckled and kissed you again, one hand still on your stomach as he did so, playfully squeezing.

#tcm game #tcm #johnny slaughter #texas chainsaw massacre #johnny tcm #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter tcm #johnny slaughter fluff #adapting to johnny slaughter

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topazy · 1 year ago

Text

In the shadows

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader

Warnings: Violence

Chapter: 1.12

The feeling of being dragged underwater is what wakes you, and when your eyes flutter open, you’re surprised to be in a hospital bed and not a pool of water. Your body, which is covered in bandages and bruises, aches. Two nurses are in the room as well, both looking concerned, but neither of them say anything.

You look around the sterile room and notice Sheriff Stilinski yelling at Jackson. At least that jackass was alright. Suddenly, all the fear comes flooding back. Peter's face flashed before your eyes, his eyes glowing red as his jaw opened, sharp fangs replacing his human teeth.

“No!” You lunge forward. “Stiles run!”

Hearing your sudden outburst and yelling his son's name, the sheriff tries to enter the room but is denied access. Your parents had gone out of town to visit friends the previous morning, so I guessed they hadn’t returned to Beacon Hills yet.

One of the nurses begins fidgeting with the IV bag, which is attached to the cannula in the back of your hand. You notice her injection has something to it. “Hey, what the hell?”

Everything quickly becomes blurry; you struggle to keep your eyes open, and when you do manage to, you instantly feel sick, noticing the walls around you keep changing. You look up and see a man in scrubs pushing your bed, with the same nurse who knocked you out beside him.

“Peter?”

Smirking, Peter pulls down the mask covering his face. “I always said you weren’t dense, Mori.”

—

“I don’t understand; explain it again.”

Peter rolls his eyes and lets out a dramatic sigh. “I’ve already told you the plan twice.”

“You probably shouldn’t have drugged me then.”

He puts one of his sharp claws underneath your chin and says, “Careful.”

“Stiles won’t help me hack into Scott’s laptop until he knows you’re safe and sound." His voice oozes with sarcasm. “I need both Scott and Derek to kill the Argents.”

“Scott will never help you.”

“Oh, he will.” Peter pulls out a mobile from his pocket and dials; the phone only rings for a few seconds before someone answers. “As promised, I’ve not harmed her yet.”

“𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚒, 𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚒!”

“Stiles!”

“𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢?”

You didn’t know how to answer him. Your cuts and bruises were beginning to heal on their own, but you were stuck alone in a room with the alpha. “I’m with Peter.”

“Time to hold up your end of the deal, Stiles.”

“𝙾𝚔𝚊𝚢, 𝚞𝚖, 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚜.”

Peter smiles with a strange look in his eyes, twirling your hair around his finger while you listen to Stiles typing on a laptop through the phone.

“𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚝. 𝙸𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝙳𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚔 𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎.”

Peter slams the phone down, causing it to break. He seems lost in the light for a while before turning to you and running his claw along your jawline before pricking your skin just below your ear enough for it to bleed. "Fascinating." His eyes glow slightly as he watches them heal. Peter shifts his gaze to meet yours. “Did you know your brother is back in town?”

“K—Kyle?”

“Yes, and we wouldn’t want anything to happen to him, now would we?”

You shake your head and say, “No, what is it you want from me?”

“The Argents want to leave, but you're going to get Kate and Allison to Derek’s location within the next hour.”

“And in exchange, you won’t hurt my brother, Stiles, Scott, Derek, or Lydia?”

He nods.

“And what if I can’t?” Tears roll down your cheeks. “I don’t know Allison that well; she wouldn’t just skip plans on leaving town to hang out with me.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you exactly what to say. And if you tell anyone what we are planning, even Stiles, you can kiss your parents and brother goodbye.”

—

As you step further into the forest, you realize that you don't know what to do or how completely out of your depth you are. You did exactly as Peter said and called Allison and tearfully told her Scott had lied to you as well about being a werewolf, but you knew where he was and wanted to confront him.

It hadn’t sunk in how big of a mistake you made until you saw both Kate and Allison welding weapons when they got out of Kate’s car. You felt even more unease when Kate handed you a pellet gun. “Do you know how to handle this?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head, and try to push the gun back to her. “I’ve never even held one.”

“Take it,” she says firmly. “Trust me, we are dealing with rabid dogs whose only purpose is to kill.”

“She’s right, Mori; you need to be able to protect yourself.”

It was sad to see how brainwashed Allison had become. Reluctantly, you took the gun from Kate.

You were trying so hard to keep your brother and friends safe from Peter that you hadn’t thought about the Argents trying to kill them. You clear your throat. “What are you planning on doing to Scott once you find him?”

Kate slows her pace, so Allison can’t hear anything her aunt says. Kate cocks her brow and says, “Whatever's necessary to stop him from harming Lydia. Is that going to be a problem?”

You remain silent. Stiles had texted you, saying Kate was the one who set the fire in The Hale’s house, killing everyone.

Kate was a cold-blooded killer; at least that’s what you kept telling yourself to justify handing her over to the alpha to protect your friends.

“Shh,” Kate says, putting her fingers to her lips. “You hear that?”

Allison nods, but you look around clueless until you spot Derek and Scott walking towards what remains of the Hale house. Out the corner of your eye, you notice Kate raising her gun, and without thinking it through, you kick Kate in the shin and say, “Scott, Derek, run!”

Kate throws you to the ground easily and holds you there while pointing her arrow at Derek.

“You don’t need to do this,” you plead. “Allison, you’re not a murderer; just let them go.”

She ignores you and shoots Derek in the shoulder and then in the leg before firing a flash bolt. The flash causes your vision to become fuzzy, and the feeling of being dragged underwater returns.

—

You feel weak as someone helps you stand. “Derek?”

“You good?”

You nod. “Are you; you’ve just been shot twice?”

Shooting a glare in Allison’s direction, he scoffs, “I’m fine.”

Hearing a clattering sound coming from his home, he shoots his head in that direction. “What’s wrong?”

“Scott’s in trouble.”

“Go, go.” When Derek lets go, you stumble slightly but hold onto a tree for support.

You feel like you’re burning up, but there’s nothing physically wrong with you. You roll up your sleeves to look at the bite mark on your arm and are horrified to see it was completely healed. The sudden urge to scream overtakes you, so you do. As you scream, you feel a wave of panic and frustration as the sound of rushing water overflows all your other senses. You only come back to reality when you feel a familiar warmth of arms wrapping around you.

You don’t even need to open your eyes to know who it is, “Stiles.”

“It’s okay.”

When the smell of smoke fills your nostrils, you open your eyes to see Peter's burning body falling to the ground. Squeeze Stiles tightly. “What am I?”

He whispers, “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out, I promise.”

You cling to Stiles as Scott chases after Derek, begging him not to kill Peter. “Wait! You said the cure comes from the one who bit you. Derek, if you do this, I'm dead. Her father, her family—what am I supposed to do?”

Claws extend from Derek’s nails as he raises his arm up.

“Wait! No, no! Don't!”

Derek slashes Peter's throat, then slowly stands, and I’m a distorted voice saying, “I'm the Alpha now.”

—

𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚂𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜 —

𝙻𝚢𝚍𝚒𝚊’𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚍.

𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚂𝚌𝚘𝚝𝚝 —

𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚝? 𝙸𝚏 𝚗𝚘𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.

𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚂𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜 —

𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐?

𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙰𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗 —

𝙸’𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢.

𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚂𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜 —

𝙰𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚎, 𝙱𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘

Gulping down, you shove the phone into your pocket; you couldn’t think straight with different messages coming through at once.

“Where do they think you are?

“At home, I guess.”

“Why did you come here alone?”

Derek lets out a dark chuckle as he walks across the creaking floorboards. His house was dark, and the only part of him you could see was his glowing red eyes. But unlike with Peter, you didn’t feel scared; you knew Derek wouldn’t hurt you.

“I want to know what I am.”

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