#bathroom geyser | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

greyeyedmonster-18 · 21 days ago

Text

jingle all the bidet

(a wolfstar holiday au.

happy christmas eve. this is simply nonsense. enjoy xoxo)

Remus practically ran to the front door once he heard the knock, socks sliding on the hardwood floors, sweater sleeves pushed up to his elbows though that wasn't particularly helpful. The cuffs were soaking, and the extra fabric drooped down to his forearms, small droplets splattering as he twisted the knob in a hurry, flinging the door of the house open.

"Hello, sir. I'm with Potter's Plumbing, we got a call about--"

"Yes! Yes! That's me," Remus said, gesturing wildly for the man to step through the doorway.

"I didn't finish--"

"As long as you're a plumber, I don't much care what call you were supposed to be on. You're here, you're helping me. Remus, hi, so nice to meet you--"

"Sirius." Sirius seemed to get the hint, stepping into the house and Remus was able to firmly shut the door behind him, perhaps a little too forcefully.

"On a different day, I'd make a comment about our names and how we should join some sort of support group for parents with odd senses of humor but--" Remus didn't bother to look behind him as he walked quickly down the hallway, to see if Sirius was following him, just blindly hoping Sirius had these sort of emergency calls all the time. As a plumber does. No time for small talk and pleasantries and other superfluous information.

Just quick. Down to business. Before a house flooded. Or maybe that was unique to Remus.

"Not today?" Sirius remarked from behind, a touch of laughter in his voice.

"Absolutely not today. You see, I'm in a bit of a plumbing crisis--on the Eve before Christmas Eve nonetheless. Festivus!-- so you can imagine my stress, I simply do not have the time to pencil in a good joke, because there are bigger issues at hand and I'm hoping you'll know exactly what to do, because I am at a loss and well....ta da!" Remus stopped just in front of the bathroom door, a weak smile on his face as he glanced between the mess of the master bathroom, and Sirius.

It was a scene from a film. Except instead of the bathroom being booby-trapped and finagled to catch robbers from killing him, Remus had made an entire crime scene attempting to install a bidet himself.

How hard could it be?

Remus should’ve known when he was required to use a wrench that it would end poorly, but he had a modicum of faith, and a stubborn streak a mile long.

There was an elbow-sized hole in the wall behind the toilet.

The tile flooded. Remus’s house slippers soggy on the bottom and cast aside outside the bathroom door.

Remus had put a bucket behind the piping, but that didn’t catch much water at all when it all shot up like a geyser into the air, drops now falling from the ceiling. Remus had somehow managed to take down the shower curtain as well, and if he was brave enough later, he thought he might ask Sirius for help putting that back up.

The top toilet cover had a handsome chip missing from it.

The toilet seat off its hinges.

And the bidet proudly on the floor.

Sirius tilted his head to the side slowly, surveying the scene wordlessly and inhaling deeply. Sirius took a pencil from out of his back pocket, scribbling a few notes on a notepad before turning to Remus and opening his mouth.

“We—”

“I know, I know. You’re probably wondering what the bloody hell happened,” Remus chuckled nervously, “And if I’m being honest, I’m wondering the same thing. I-I-I read the instructions before attempting to do this and I have always been a good student. A great one even!” Remus started and then stopped, “Okay, no, that was a lie. I’ve always been an okay student, but I know how to read. And in theory, I had it down pat. Flawlessly executed in my mind. But damn are toilet’s a lot harder to maneuver than the bloody instructions made it seem and one thing leads to another, I’m squatting down, elbow-deep in drywall. Literally,” Remus gestured to the hole behind the toilet, “I guess the only thing is I’m glad the water was clean and flushed and, and, well, you know what I mean don’t you?”

“I was going to say,” Sirius started, tongue poking out to wet his bottom lip, the corners of his mouth turning upward in amusement, “I hope you have another bathroom to use in the meantime.”

“Thank god we do.”

“Alright,” Sirius nodded, hitching up the knees of his jeans and squatting down to get a closer look at the damage. The band of his underwear poked over the top of his jeans.

“A-alright, then. I’ll. Just..stay out of your hair and uh, let you get to work.”

“Sounds good.”

“Do you need anything? I think there’s a wrench down there somewhere,” Remus pointed to the broken ceramic behind the toilet. Sirius stood back up and turned around to face Remus, who, at that moment, realized he was standing much too close, now standing nearly nose to nose with a stranger-plumber and he flushed. “Ah! Sorry, sorry, I’ll just—”

“I’ve got to get some supplies from my truck, but otherwise I should be all set. The beauty of calling a plumber is they take care of it for you, and you can just relax, Mr….?”

“Remus! No, I mean not Mr. Remus. Remus Lupin. Mr. Remus Lupin.”

“Alright, Mr. Remus Lupin, rest easy,” Sirius said, with a quick smirk, walking past Remus down the hallway again toward the front door. Remus felt like he was chasing after him Sirius’s stride was so long and certain.

“No, I mean, you don’t need to call me Mr. Remus Lupin. Or Mr. at all. It’s just Remus.” Sirius nodded again and exited the house.

Remus wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do while a maintenance person was in his home. He recalled vaguely as a child hiding in his room until they left, pretending he did not exist--there were absolutely no children in this home, and if there were they certainly were not present at the time they were there, no sir! And typically, Gideon was the one who handled service requests. Remus making it a point to be uncharacteristically busy the moment something needed a repair. A light not working? Suddenly Remus needed to leave and return a package that had been sitting there for two weeks already. But Gideon was away, finishing up work for the holiday season, which was the perfect time for Remus to surprise him with a gift.

A shame it ended in absolute disaster.

And now Remus didn’t know what to do.

With his hands, with his time, with his anything. And opted to pace back and forth down the hallway as Sirius started working in the bathroom.

“Hello!” Remus poked his head into the bathroom, hands on the door frame. “Just checking in.”

“Checked,” Sirius told him, not moving from his position on the floor of the bathroom. Sirius’s work boots were damp on the bottom, uniform shirt rolled up to his elbows, and the long curly hair that had previously been down and dusting the man's shoulders, pulled up and out of the way.

“Can I get you anything? Water, or a snack, surely you must be hungry or--”

“I’m all set, Remus.”

“Or, maybe I could--”

Sirius cleared his throat and sat up to look at Remus, elbows resting on the top of his knees, “Though I know it perhaps feels odd, as usually, I assume, when you have guests over, you entertain them in some capacity. But in this situation, it is quite okay to ignore me.”

“I…people really just ignore you?”

“Most of the time. Spare a few odd moments of chatter, but I believe you said this was an emergency and there simply wasn’t time for that today.”

“Well you don’t seem too concerned about all this.”

“I’ve seen so much worse.”

“That’s comforting. Perhaps I could make time for a joke or two then.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Oh, uhm,” Remus’s eyes went wide, “I-I didn’t mean an actual joke, I don’t think I have any of those, though I really should. I’m a teacher, you see. Kids love jokes, but I think most of the time, I’m the joke and don’t necessarily need to come up with something with a punchline. So, I might be fresh out, but if you give me an hour I could look one up.”

“Why did the Christmas tree go to the barber?”

“What?”

“Why did the Christmas tree go to the doctor?” Sirius repeated, soft smile on his face as he waited Remus to answer.

“Uh…I dunno. Why?”

“It was looking a little green,” Sirius finished, slapping the top of his knee for effect and Remus snorted.

“That was pretty good.”

“My godson is seven and is in his joke telling phase. I had to find a few of my own. You know, just to make sure I didn’t lose the cool godfather credibility.”

“Of course,” Remus said, and nodded, “Sorry…I’ll let you work.”

“If you would prefer…you don’t have to ignore me.”

“Really?” Remus asked, but was already inside the bathroom yet again, “Because I am winded walking up and down that hallway, between this botched installation and the pacing and the everything, this is the highest my heart rate has been in years. I promise, you won’t even know I’m here.” Remus took a seat on the edge of the bathtub letting out a sigh of relief as Sirius lowered himself to the floor once again.

It turns out, it was probably a good thing that Remus had never been home previously when a repair person had entered, because he could not simply pretend to not be there any longer. He was there. And Remus did not do well with silence.

“....so anyway, when we moved in, and I think Gideon--my partner, did I say that already? Oh, I did, I know I did-- wants to repaint the walls next year, to add some life into the place. But I dunno, I think it’s pretty lively. Do you think so? You go in a lot of homes, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“And does mine, breathe life?”

“The snowflake hand towels are a nice touch,” Sirius commented, as he twisted something on the side of the toilet.

“That's what I thought! Why do we need to paint and redo everything, when we can…spruce it up, with towels and…other decorations? Other..less permanent things,” Remus finished and Sirius hummed. “Not that I know much, or anything really, about designing and homes. This is my first one. Well, after the one I lived in before, but there isn’t exactly a book about how to…home. You know?”

“I get what you mean,” Sirius confirmed, “Are you French?”

“Pardon?”

“The bidet,” Sirius said from his position on the bathroom floor, back on the ground and doing something to the piping. The number of tools Sirius had brought with him was evidence enough that Remus had no business installing the bidet in the first place, the wrench he had sworn would be enough Sirius hadn’t even touched. Though he probably had nicer wrenches. Fancier wrenches. Did wrenches have levels of class? Just as well Remus would use a poor man's wrench.

“Uh. No, no, I’m not French. Not really. Sort of? My father is. Or…was. Is? He died, so he’s not…currently French and walking around saying Bonjour, or mon petit chou anymore, not that…that wasn’t all he said but he is French but just French as in dead in a cemetery. But his body-you know what I mean, don’t you? Anyway, he was—is—French, I am not. Well not, not. I grew up in Wales with my Mum. We barely had plumbing, sometimes we just went out back and dug a hole in the ground! Never had this problem with holes, I’ll tell you that much, no, no problems like this,” Remus trailed off and Sirius made another hum of acknowledgement as he worked, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up. People get weird when I do. Like oh, I’m so sorry for your loss, and I can’t say, It’s fine I barely knew him! Without sounding like a complete arsehole so, I usually just make it weird and awkward and uh…well, you have a front-row seat to that,” Remus said, slapping his hands on his thighs, the thwack against his jeans echoing through the bathroom.

“You’re not an arsehole.”

“You don’t know me that well.”

“You’re not an arsehole for not knowing your parent,” Sirius clarified. “Wales is nice.”

“It is. It was.”

“So you’re not French, why the bidet?”

Remus sighed standing up from the ledge of the tub, pacing the floor for the bathroom as he spoke, "Well, you see, I got it as a gift for my partner. Gideon, remember? They're away on business, and I told myself this was the perfect time to get ahead on Christmas shopping. If you knew me...which you don't, not really, but maybe by the end of this whole mess we'll be fast friends! I already told you about my dead Dad, and that's usually something I hold off on…it’s a bit of a downer. Anyway, if you knew me..know me, I'm terrible at planning ahead. I mean, who wants to go to the shops during the hols? Nobody. I don't care how much you love your mother--and I love mine, I promise I do, really--all the people running around, it's just too much. So I put it off and put it off, and suddenly it's Christmas Eve and--"

"That's about the worst time to go..." Sirius said, shifting his position so he was crouching instead, lifting the toilet seat off in one smooth piece.

"Precisely, so sometimes I don't even bother going at all, which I suppose might make me a bad person. I'm not! Occasionally an arsehole, but not a bad person! I recycle and, and, and I’m a good friend, I-I-I just...planning and gifts and the whole bit of it...isn't my strongest suit,” Remus said. “So I was so proud of myself! Because Gideon had mentioned wanting a bidet for the bathroom, the breathing life and the personal touches and all that--”

“I’m noticing a theme…”

“Yes! Life, carpe fucking diem! So he mentioned it, and I remembered--which is another thing I am not the greatest at-- and I went out and bought the bidet! Hid it in my office at work for a month knowing he’d be out of town today, and it would be the perfect opportunity to install it. He’d come back from his trip, go to the bath to wash up and he would be overjoyed, elated, delighted even, to see the bidet there, and I would be there shouting Happy Christmas! and for once feel like I really nailed the Christmas gift. Because the thing is, he is so thoughtful and so good at gift giving, and I…just come up short. And I thought not this year! But instead of coming home to a beautifully installed bidet, he’ll come home to…a plumbing bill and peeling up linoleum tile and a patched up hole and…a shower curtain. And-and- who knows if he’ll even like it! He’ll probably hate it.”

“Why would he hate it?”

“He never usually likes my gifts.”

“Who…doesn’t just say thank you for a gift?” Sirius asked, pausing his work to look at Remus. “That’s kind of the rule isn’t it? Even if it's an itchy sweater, or something you don’t particularly like, you say thank you and then later return it and pretend it didn’t fit. It’s not about the gift.”

“Well, I don’t know if there’s rules exactly,” Remus countered, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought of birthdays and holidays gone by where Gideon had remarked "oh, this isn’t exactly what i wanted, or you tried, Re in response to Remus’s efforts.

“Secret rules, as my godson would say.”

“I mean, sure, there’s secret…rules, I guess, but remember? were you not listening to the whole bad at gift giving part?”

“I listened. Were you gifting rotten eggs?”

“Well no. It’s just that, he, and-and-I we’re just never on the same page, and his gifts are--and well, mine are--”

“Ah.”

“And, and, and who the fuck gets their partner a bidet for Christmas?”

“Well…maybe someone who has a partner who asked for one?” Sirius said, smirking a little before getting back to his work.

“Well you’re a bit arrogant, aren’t you?”

“Or just…right.”

“No. Because he didn’t explicitly ask for one he more mentioned it in passing…he’s mentioned countless things in passing, why not just by one of those and not a major home renovation…this was a terrible idea. This was stupid! Why didn’t you tell me that? Going on about the gift rules and secrets, and the real issue here is that this was a bad idea!”

“I’m in the business of fixing up baths, not sharing my opinions on Christmas gifts.”

“Except you just did.”

“Very unprofessional of me, I admit.”

Remus said, stopping his pacing to run a hand over his face, “This is very unprofessional of me. Arguing with my plumber! About presents. And, it’s my fault, really. I should’ve told you in the call! That’s what I should’ve done, straight out the gate, just let you know the real situation, and I should’ve said that I bought this stupid bidet, and made a mess of my bathroom, and a million other wrong things--”

Sirius grabbed the bidet from the floor and placed it on top of the toilet. Pieces falling perfectly into place.

“It’s not a bad gift,” Sirius told him, “Odd perhaps, but thoughtful. Plumbers honor.”

“Really…?”

“Really.”

“You’re right!” Remus said, and as Sirius made some final adjustments before pressing a button on the bidet. A jingle played.

“And, for what it's worth, you bought a good bidet. Nicer bidets tend to be more finicky to install so…really, this mess showcases heaps of effort.”

“Thank you!” Remus responded, somewhat indignantly, throwing his arms into the air. Someone understood.

“That’s exactly what he should say. Your partner. When he walks into this room and notices--”

“The bidet.”

“The spectacular bidet.”

“What…if he doesn’t?” Remus asked quietly after a long silence, two men standing and admiring the bidet sitting proudly on a toilet with a broken top, singing its little song to prove it was functioning.

“Would you like my professional opinion?”

“...Yes.”

“If he doesn’t say thank you and kiss you full on the mouth for this very thoughtful gift…then at least you can enjoy this bidet and you throw a massive party with all of your friends and tell them to use this bathroom.” Remus snorted, thinking about walking guests into the master bedroom and bathroom during a party--coworkers and neighbors and friends, stepping on the carpet in their shoes just to get to the bidet.

“What’s your unprofessional one?”

“Find someone who will say thank you.”

“So I should find a liar.”

“Thank you for thinking of me, and thank you for the effort it took to find this gift, isn’t a lie in my book. It’s not about the bidet.”

“It could be.”

“Yeah but it's not.”

“But it is, kind of.”

“No.”

Remus opened his mouth and closed it again, unsure of what to say, Sirius grinning smugly at Remus, daring him to disagree again. This man might have had the same stubborn streak Remus had. His stomach fluttered for a moment, almost laughing, almost joyful at the silly, naive thought of spending a lifetime with a man, this man, who argued without the malice behind the words.

“It’s not that simple anyway,” Remus said, “Just…leaving.”

“Never said it was, but either way…this is yours,” Sirius gestured to the bidet, “And someone should use it.

It had only been a few hours, but the bathroom looked good as new. Bidet installed, hole patched up and water was mopped up. The only sign that something had gone awry was the toilet top with the chunk missing.

“We’ll have to get you a new one,” Sirius told him, writing up the invoice as they walked to Remus’s front door, toolbox in hand

“Will that take weeks?”

“No, a few days just because of the holidays. I’ll bring it by the 26th, and it’ll be all set.”

“You are truly a life saver, I don’t know what I would’ve done, and….thanks for listening to me talk…all day. I know you probably didn’t sign up for that exactly when you took this call, and probably had better things to be doing, and--”

“This was one of the more enjoyable calls I’ve had actually,” Sirius told him, pausing in front of the front door. “I had a good time.”

Remus laughed awkwardly, reaching for the doorknob to open the door for Sirius, “This feels like the end of some sort of date…do you want me to walk you to your car?”

“Very kind, but I promise I’ll make it.” Sirius nodded, sticking out his hand. Definitely not a date. “Pleasure working with you Mr. Lupin.”

“Remus.”

“Remus,” Sirius said, “I’ll see you in a few days. My numbers on the invoice, should anything come up before then. Just…call.”

Christmas music was playing loudly in his living room, Sirius’s godson testing out his new dance moves learned at school on the rug, his best friends clapping along and joining in with their own dance moves alongside their child. Sirius had just pulled the roast chicken out of the oven--the shining star for the Christmas Eve feast-- when the phone rang. Oven mitts still on, he hurried to grab the land line, tossing a stray curl out of his face as he answered.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Potter’s Plumbing?” the voice on the other end said and Sirius couldn’t help but bite back a smile. He had been in Remus’s home for only a few hours, but had heard the other man talk enough that Sirius was certain he’d be able to identify who was speaking with his eyes closed. It was refreshing. Sirius returned home that day and recounted the emergency call to his best friend, leaving out no details about the frazzled, freckled, and messy man who attempted to install a bidet.

You put your personal number on the invoice? Sirius, that’s too bold.

Sirius was thinking he wouldn’t call.

He hadn’t expected any bidet related emergencies.

“This is Sirius Black,” Sirius said, “But I am part of Potter’s Plumbing.”

“Oh, good, Sirius, it’s you. Hello, it’s Remus Lupin, remember, you serviced my bidet a few days ago and there's a toilet top that needs to be repaired, and we hung up a shower curtain together and I almost fell to my death off the bathtub ledge?”

“Ah yes,” Sirius teased, “Thanks for those details to jog my memory, without them I would’ve definitely forgotten. Did you run into some trouble?”

“Uh…No.”

“Oh…then, how can I help you, Mr. Lupin?”

“Remus.”

“I…” Sirius heard Remus click his tongue a few times, “I…decided to…not…I mean, I don’t need a new toilet top. Can I cancel that? I think it looks better this way.”

“With the missing part?” Sirius asked, feeling a touch disappointed at the nature of the call.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go ahead and cancel that for you, Remus. No problem at all. Was that it?”

“No,” Remus said and paused again, “I’m having a sort of party.”

“Sort of?”

“A party, on New Year's Eve. I decided. To celebrate the new year and new beginnings and all that, glad tidings, you know, the things people usually celebrate. And…also to celebrate the bidet that's in the bathroom because I’ve been told it's a good bidet, like a nice one even! A professional told me that, and it…uh should be appreciated by someone. So I'm having a party and I’m wondering if…you like bidets?”

“Did I not tell you I’m French? I love bidets.”

#jingle all the bidet #soft christmas drabbles #wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #happy holidays from my home to yours #but also this was very fun to write and such a ridiculous idea #may 2025 be the year of more ridiculous ideas

94 notes · View notes

0oolookitsme · 1 year ago

Text

The Thigh Tattoo

Type - One Shot

Verse - Baker!Harry x Florist!Y/n

Word Count - 2.1k

Warnings - None! It's all smut!

A/N - Not super proud of this one -- probably my least favourite so far. But it's here, and I just hope you guys don't hate it as much as I do hahah <3

Kinks - Thigh Riding, Teasing.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

Please rb to share!

Y/n loved being a florist, she really did. But, some days were so busy and full of people rushing inside her shop to buy flowers, that it resulted with her standing on her feet for the whole day. It always ended with her feet pink and a bit swollen, causing her to climb up the stairs of her flat hissing and groaning.

And, today was no different. She had texted Harry while unlocking her door, asking if he could come over to which he had replied by asking her to give him 15 minutes to wind up the bakery.

In the meantime, she had turned on the geyser and took out the ingredients it'd take to make pasta. She didn't have it in herself to make an actual dinner, and she hadn't eaten that in a while anyways.

When Harry finally chimed in, she practically glued herself to him, hugging him for longer than normal. She suggested that while the water was heating up, they could make dinner and catch up with each other about their days.

As they chatted, Y/n didn't realize as the time passed them by. It'd often be like that with Harry – she could be doing anything, Harry just needed to start talking and she'd completely lose track of everything. It was like time would stop everytime she looked at him. And this time, it ended with Y/n jerking when she accidentally dropped the pasta too suddenly and the hot water splashed, slightly burning her hand.

It was such a mild burn, that it soothed only a second after and the both of them couldn't help but laugh at her wild reaction.

When she climbed down from the slab, the pain shooted through her feet again. She sent Harry to fill up the bathtub, telling him that she'd be there in a little as she shifted the pasta from the pan into a big bowl, the sputtering soup staining her april. Placing the bowl inside the oven, she cleaned up as fast as she could and ran to the bathroom.

She slipped out of her clothes, and finally into the bathtub, where Harry had already settled himself in with his hair tied up in a man-bun.

Y/n sighed as she dipped her toes in the bathtub, goosebumps rising on her body as the lukewarm water already started working its magic on her muscles.

As she brought her other leg in, Harry spread his arms wide to make sure she didn't slip and hurt herself. He stayed put like that until she lowered and sat between his legs, her back immediately leaning back to rest on his chest.

The bathtub wasn't huge, but they both managed to fit every time.

"This feels so good," she murmured, her eyes closing as she dropped her head back. Only after a deep inhale she looked up at him, her head on his right shoulder, just beside his jawline. She pressed a light kiss to his jaw that had a day-old stubble, "thank you for coming over."

"Of course," Harry smiled, kissing her temple.

Closing her eyes again, she took a big yawn, feeling like she could sleep right there. A grin formed on her mouth when she felt Harry's chest rumble due to laughter behind her.

"You cannot seem to stop yawning today," he chuckled, brushing her hair strands and weaving them somewhere among the rest of her hair that had been twisted into a bun.

Y/n hummed in response. "You smell like you're a baked goodie and now I want one," she laughed, and only squeaked harder when Harry's hand slid on her belly, his fingers tickling the soft skin there. "Har-Harry stop, my hair will get wet!" She yelled on top of her laughter, chest heaving as she rose back up from where she was about to go below water in order to escape his hold.

"I'll bring you some tomorrow," Harry spoke, smiling at her softly from above as spurts of laughter fell from her mouth.

After she'd calmed down, she felt less tired. Yes, she was still going to be out like a light the moment her head would hit the pillow, but now at least her head wasn't going to drop in her plate full of pasta while the snores left her mouth.

Deciding to stay in for a little more, she absentmindedly started tracing the tiger tattoo on Harry's thigh. The tip of her index finger grazed the skin where black ink was imprinted onto his skin forever, following the path it lead.

Once she'd returned from where she had started, she brought her hand back to herself – tuning her head to look at what Harry was doing considering there wasn't any sound in the room.

He was already looking at her, his lips rolled in under his teeth. "Why did you stop?" He asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Y/n only shrugged in response, getting up to rinse off the soap from her body because her stomach was starting to make louder and louder sounds as each minute passed. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of admitting that she was turned on already, so she pretended as if she hadn't caught up with him.

Harry followed her out, his towel wrapped loosely around his hips. She had stopped to do her skincare and tossed the bottle of moisturiser at him. He caught it, and went behind to her to look into the mirror as he rubbed it in his skin.

"I love your whole body," she mumbled, looking up at him while she dropped some serum on her cheeks. "But I think if it came down to favourites, I would choose your legs," she continued.

It was always impossible to guess what she would say next – her mind ran a million miles per minute. And, she was unpredictable even for Harry, who knew her like the back of his hand in only a few months. "Why?" Harry chuckled, eyebrows starting to frown.

"See! Even I don't know!" She exclaimed. "Maybe because they are so… toned? And sweet God, that tiger tattoo? It makes your thighs look mouth-watering," laughing she said, feeling good at the sight of his eyes darkening.

She turned around then, placing her palms on his chest. "It has to be my favourite," she whispered, her hand lowering towards that tattoo. "The one that's here," her hand lingered over the spot.

"Really? Don't think you've ever shown that much interest in it before," Harry feigned being clueless, pushing his thigh towards her core, stopping just before he could brush against her.

Y/n's skin was starting to feel tingly, excitement rushed through her. She could feel her arousal slipping past her vaginal-lips and when Harry didn't push his thigh into her, she felt disappointment sink inside her.

So he wasn't going to be easy.

"Oh yeah? Then let me, right now." She said, searching for some kind of approval in his eyes.

"Let you what?"

She held her forehead for a second, before crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Let me ride that thigh."

"Which one, hm?" Harry asked her, the tone of amusement gone from his voice. He was able to tell that she was getting impatient now, and who was he to delay things further?

"The one with the tiger tattoo, please" she whispered, her eyes set on his lips.

That's all Harry needed to hear before he smashed his lips onto hers. She tasted just like the strawberry lip-balm she had rubbed on her lips minutes prior. Licking her lips, he pushed his tongue through, his nose pushing against the side of her mouth as she pushed towards him.

Her tongue kept licking into his mouth, her teeth grazing his tongue as she kept pressing into him. She had shifted her thigh in a manner that the muscle of his thigh brushed against her crotch everytime they moved.

"Desperate, hm?" Harry heaved, breaking the kiss and teasing her when she reached for his mouth with her eyes closed and opened them when she couldn't find them.

She punched her fist into his chest before pushing his head toward hers with her hand in the back of his neck. A grin played on both of their mouths as Harry pecked her upper lip.

Y/n was the first to push her tongue in his mouth this time, her fingers tangled up in the hair strands as she started pushing him backwards, out of the bathroom. They kept walking until Harry's knees hit the foot of the bed.

His hands slipped from her waist as he fell on the bed. Harry slid up on the bed until his bed rested against the headboard of the bed. Before he could ask her to come, she was already on the bed and moving towards him on her knees, the rest of her body remaining upright to maintain her balance.

Harry removed his towel before she settled herself on his thigh. His cock was hard, but he asked Y/n not to focus on that right now.

He placed his hands on her love handles, drawing her hips in and then sending them back. "Already so wet," Harry groaned as he felt his thigh get slick in just two slides of her pussy over it.

Y/n's head was thrown back as her clit rubbed against the pulsed muscle of his thigh, her tits moving with each sway of her hips. "Oh fuck," she choked out when she felt him push his thigh further up.

She placed her hands on his shoulders as Harry moved one of his own and kneaded her left boob while sucking on the other one. He twisted her hardened nipple with his fingers before flicking it, causing a moan to leave her mouth.

Licking the bud with a flat tongue one last time, he moved to play with the other one. He looked up at her when she undid his bun and clutched his hair in a tight grip. He moaned against her skin, the vibration of it moving along the current in her body.

Sweat started lining her skin as she kept rubbing on him, looking down to make sure she was still over the tiger tattoo. But the sight of the black ink covered in her arousal and the white strings that were still dragging along her pussy sent a different kind of rush through her.

"You like that, don't you? My tattoo and my thigh covered so well in your arousal that it's starting to slip down on the mattress?" Harry asked her with a smirk on his face, the mess on his thigh making him harder.

When her pace started breaking into arrhythmic drags, Harry gripped her hips with a tighter hold and weighed her down on his thigh, tightening his muscle.

He moved her hips in sync and kept on moving his thigh. "Know you're close, c'mon," he mumbled, sitting up right to nip at her collarbone.

The only sounds in the room were of Y/n's moans, Harry kissing her skin and the bed slightly creaking under her movements. The sound of her wet pussy rubbing over its own slick could almost be heard if it weren't for Harry's heavy breathing.

"Fu- fuck, Harry-" Y/n stuttered, rubbing faster and whimpering over the burn of Harry's nip. He licked at it and then shifted his attention on her boobs again.

She was starting to shake and whimper, and as Harry sucked on her breasts, she started to groan his name – her pull on his hair getting harder and harder.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck- I'm coming, Harry," she yelled, but not so loud that the people on the streets would be able to tell.

"C'mon, come for me," Harry urged her on, holding her down with one of his hands as he left a mark close to her nipples. "Come all over this tiger tattoo," he told her and her nails dug into his shoulders as she wetness gushed out of her.

She was gripping the hard muscle on his shoulders so hard that she knew that not only her nails were leaving their mark, but her palm was too. "O-Oh, my god- Harry, please-" she begged him as he kept rubbing her against him, running her throught her high.

Slowly and slowly, he decreased the pace until he finally stopped. Y/n was breathing heavily when she finally looked down at his thigh, only to find her arousal shining on the tattoo, and the bedsheet around drenched - whether in sweat or her juices, or perhaps, both.

"God, I don't know if I love the tiger or your thigh more," she heaved, laughing breathily.

Laughing, Harry helped her roll off of him and lay on the bed. "Let's call it the thigh tattoo for you," he said, grinning as he wiped the sweat off of the top of her upper lips.

408 notes · View notes

impala-dreamer · 6 months ago

Text

Blind Faith

A Supernatural Story

~What if the cure was never really a cure? What if the curse was too strong and her love was too weak?~

Demon!Dean x Reader, Sam Winchester.

9,760 Words

NSFW, Dark Fic, DbCn, NCn, Extreme Violence, Blood, Extreme Angst, Major Character Death.

A/N: This is for @jacklesversebingo - my prompt was "He gave her 36 hours"

JacklesBingo Masterlist

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

She hadn’t been there when he died.

She hadn’t seen the blade disappear into his chest, didn’t watch the blood bubble up around it like a geyser. She hadn’t heard his painful cry; hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye.

Y/N stood frozen next to the glowing table, her eyes wide with disbelief as Sam carried his brother’s limp, broken body into the Bunker.

He wasn’t safe, but he was home.

“Sam- what-”

Her voice was a distance crackle in the grief surrounding them both and Sam couldn’t find an answer that would soothe the break.

He stopped at the bottom of the staircase and looked at her with red, tear-soaked eyes. His lip quivered and he sucked in a quick, aching breath.

“I don’t- I don’t know what to do,” he said.

Shock crept through her bones and twisted every vein until the blood stopped flowing. She felt her heart stop short as if it had been slammed into a wall, crushed by an anvil, or trampled by a herd.

Time slowed. She shook her head, unable to process the sight of Dean’s left arm falling from his chest as Sam’s knees buckled. Blood dripped from his fingertips and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his watch. Of all things, she focused on that stupid black watch. She could hear it ticking over the lack of breath and each click brought her closer to insanity.

Sam’s balance shifted and Y/N broke free of Chrono’s paralyzing curse. She rushed to his side and put her hands beneath Dean’s cold form.

He was heavy but she insisted on helping.

She kept her eyes on the watch as they carried him through the hallway.

“I wanna clean him up,” Sam whispered. ��I… I gotta clean him up.”

Y/N could barely breathe as they laid him down on the icy bathroom tiles. She couldn’t look at his face, couldn’t believe that it was Dean. She regarded him as an object while wiping the dried blood from his face and carefully dabbing his lips with a damp cloth. She gazed at the wound in his chest with vacant eyes as if it were merely a tear in a shirt she needed to mend.

It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

She smoothed out the beige blanket on his bed; fluffed the pillow and placed it in the middle, just as he would have. Dean always liked a tidy bedroom.

Sam carried him in and gently laid him down.

Standing back, Sam gazed at his brother and broke. Tears swept down his cheeks and his entire frame shook with tiny, nearly imperceptible tremors.

Y/N touched his arm, gingerly reaching for her friend while the world shattered around them.

He jerked away from her touch and turned, leaving her alone with the body.

With his body.

With Dean.

Finally, she let herself look, really look at his face. His skin was bruised and broken, sliced open by Metatron’s fists. For a moment she worried that the cut above his eye would scar, but it never would. The flesh would never heal; the marks would never fade.

“Dean…”

His name had left her lips a million times before but this felt like the last. Her breath caught deep in the back of her throat and her body crumbled. She fell beside the bed and grasped his hand, tugging it to her lips. She kissed his bloody knuckles, cradled the stiff joints, and left her tears on his palm.

The Mark was there, forever tattooed on his arm, looming over her like some sinister warning. But it meant nothing. The threat was gone. Without Dean, it had no power. Without Dean, it was nothing more than an ornate laceration.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but eventually, she got up. Somehow she released his hand and placed it at his side. By some Grace of Heaven, she managed to turn her back on the man she loved and walk out of the room.

Sam was drunk.

Y/N found him sitting in the dark at a table in the Library, a bottle of whiskey slowly emptying into his veins.

She tried to say something, to make her presence known, but nothing came out. Her words were trapped, and her thoughts were a mess.

She sat down next to him at the head of the table and reached for the bottle.

The cheap whiskey was poison and she wanted it to do her in.

“What do we do?”

Sam stiffened at her question and scoffed. “We?” He turned and snatched the bottle out of her hand. “We do nothing. I find a way to bring him back.”

The offense tightened in her chest. “I can help,” she whispered. “I want to help. I have to.”

Sam filled his glass to nearly overflowing and drank it down in two swallows. “No.”

“No?”

He wouldn’t look at her. The wood creaked as he leaned back and stretched his long legs out, purposefully turning away.

“You’re not part of this family.” His voice was soft but the tone was viscous. Drunk and distraught, he aimed to take his pain out on anything he could. Y/N was the only one there.

“Sam-”

“You’re not.” He poured another drink and lifted it with a shaking hand. “Never were.”

Y/N’s stomach cramped. “Don’t say that. I’m as much a part of this as-”

“As what?” Sam turned, spinning around so fast that he nearly knocked the chair over. Hazel eyes narrowed on her face; pink lips formed words she’d only heard from the mouths of demons. “As me? As Dean? Cas? No. You’re nothing. You’re not family. You’re not even really a friend. Just some girl Dean picked up on the side of the road and forgot to drop back off. You’re here by accident. By circumstance. Not because we want you here.” Licking his lip slowly, he dragged a drop of whiskey into his mouth. “You’re here because he was too nice to tell you to leave.”

It was everything she thought to herself when the nights got bad; when trauma and depression worked together to try to bring her down.

She held her breath in a feeble attempt to keep her voice steady. “You don’t mean any of that, Sam.”

He laughed. “Wow. You’re as dumb as you are useless.”

A sharp pain spread up her arms and Y/N realized she’d been gripping the armrests of her seat so tightly her nails had dug into the wood, forever marking her presence and Sam’s evil words.

She stood up with fists and jaw clenched tight. “You’re drunk and you’re in pain.”

“Oh, I am drunk.” He shrugged and took a long sip. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”

Her palms suffered the same fate as the armrests. She cringed at the sting. “Why are you doing this?”

Slowly, he stood and stumbled a bit as he turned to look at her. He towered over her, a giant blocking out the light and all hope.

“I want you out.” His tongue was slow but his teeth were sharp. “I want you out of the Bunker, out of Kansas. Out of my life!”

Y/N couldn’t move. A tightness inside was forcing a disconnect between her mind and body. Her legs felt like dead tree logs, her arms like lead weights pulling her down. Unable to blink away the tears, she turned her eyes towards the rows of books on the walls, the artifacts gathering dust on the lower shelves.

“Sam…”

He would not be stopped by a display of tears or the meekness in her stance.

“I said get out!” he roared, arms waving as his voice boomed through the empty rooms. “Now!”

Y/N flinched, sure that he meant to strike her.

When he saw the fear in her eyes, he stepped back, but not down. He grabbed the bottle and drank straight from it, chugging down more than he should have.

“Just go,” he sighed. “Please.”

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek, needing a little pain to help her do what she needed to.

She nodded.

He turned away and slumped back into his chair, giving up on everything but the whiskey.

She walked up the short steps and pressed her hand against the stone archway, saying goodbye.

“You’re gonna regret this, you know.”

He laughed bitterly. “Doubt it.”

It didn’t take long to pack. Most of her stuff was already in her car, ready for a case or an easy escape. What she did have in her room, she crammed into a backpack.

Leaving behind the place she’d called home for three years was hard.

Leaving him behind was worse.

Y/N stood in his doorway and said her silent goodbye.

Dean was right where they’d left him; head on the pillow, bowed legs slightly bent, sleeping forever.

When her eyes began to burn, she wiped them with the back of her hand and turned to leave. Sam was right. She was never really part of this.

It was time to go.

How long had it been? A month, two? She’d stopped counting after two weeks. It seemed pointless by then. Dean was gone, and Sam had kicked her out. There was nowhere to go, no place to call home. With no one waiting up for her, time didn’t matter.

Y/N could tell that the summer was close to beginning its descent into autumn as she tracked it across the country. She drove relentlessly, pushing her beat-up white Tucson from its namesake to Annapolis and back again. The roads were too long; the future so unclear.

She needed a plan for the rest of her life. Should she keep on hunting? Maybe try for that picket fence life she’d only seen on TV? A passing dream brought her to Costa Rica, but her Spanish was rusty and the Expat life seemed lonely.

She needed to stop and figure things out.

The only problem was, when she stopped, she had to think. And thinking was something she wasn’t too fond of.

Whenever she closed her eyes she was met with beautiful memories of her time with Dean; of late nights cuddled in the back of the Impala, talking about life and counting the stars when they came out. If she tried hard enough, she could feel his calloused fingertips drag across her cheek, taste his bourbon-stained kiss.

But, even the sweetest memories faded into blood-soaked dreams. She watched Dean’s death on repeat. Each time was slightly different, tiny details shifting and expanding here and there. She hadn’t seen it, she didn’t know the truth. She’d only seen the aftermath, so her horrible imagination filled in the blanks.

Sometimes he reached out for her, screaming her name as Metatron plunged the blade into his chest. Other times, he was racing with her toward safety when she let his hand drop, losing him to the Scribe’s murderous intent.

She never slept much anymore.

The third week of August found her sweating in the muggy heat of Savannah, a city she’d always loved to breeze through but never had the chance to visit.

Now, she was falling in love. Walking the brick-laid sidewalks of the historic district made her feel at ease. The dense air seemed to warm something frozen inside, and the weeping willows mirrored her heart.

She breathed a little deeper, walked a little slower, and took her time exploring.

She rented a tiny apartment in the attic of a little house on the border of town by charming the owner into a week-by-week lease. There was no way to tell how long she would stay, but the city was as haunted as any she’d seen, so if nothing else, there were a few weeks of cases she could work.

Days were spent napping and pondering the existence of a real life out of the shadows and nights were draped in them. When the sun sank below the trees, she went out, walking the streets without fear or obligation. She followed the heavy wind and the sounds of music that pulsed from bars and clubs late into the night.

One Tuesday evening, a mournful blues riff pulled her into a bar and she sat at a table in the back, nursing a cocktail that made her nose crinkle up after every sip.

“Looks like you’re not a fan.”

Y/N swallowed a bubbly sip and shook her head before looking up. “Not really,” she answered. “But hey, when in Rome.”

She set the glass on the little square napkin and sighed as the band hit a crescendo. The music was blaring and it was hard to hear below a shout.

“You should try their bourbon. I hear it’s amazing.”

The voice tugged at her brain and Y/N finally looked up, nearly jumping out of her skin when she did.

Dean Winchester stood before her, alive and well with a sparkle in his eye and a smirk upon his lips.

Her heart pounded, her limbs tingled.

“What the fuck-”

Her entire being tensed and her feet prepared for a quick escape.

The door was forty steps to the left- she always counted when entering a room. There were three tables in the way that she’d have to weave through, and only two people in danger of being knocked over. She could make it quick.

Dean smiled softly and placed his hands on the back of the chair closest to him. He leaned down a bit and sighed.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N/N.”

She flinched at the sound of her nickname and reached for the knife in her jeans.

His eyes went right to her hand.

“Come on, babygirl. You don’t need that.” He laughed sadly and licked his lip. “It’s me.”

She laughed sarcastically. “You’re dead.”

Comically, Dean looked down at himself and then stood up straight. He patted his chest and shook his head.

“I don’t appear to be.”

Wide eyes studied his face and scanned his body for anything out of place. He looked a little bigger than last she saw as if he’d been working out or at least eating a little better. His hair was longer and stuck up on his head a little higher, but he moved the same; smiled the same. His voice-

“Look, I know this is insane, but- come on, kid. It’s me.”

She shivered. Everything she knew, every part of her said to run. But somewhere, deep in her heart, she held some blind faith that said Dean would never hurt her. Even if at his worst, he’d never raise his hand against her, never do anything but keep her safe.

She prayed that her heart knew best.

“I can’t-” She paused and looked around at the crowded bar. “I can’t do this here.”

He nodded in understanding and gestured towards the door.

“You first,” she insisted.

Dean smiled and led the way.

“How are you here? You… you died, Dean. I washed the blood off of your face myself,” she asked once the music had faded and the crowd had vanished.

They stood in an empty lot behind the bar, two old friends amongst broken bottles and thriving weeds.

“Thanks for that,” he said with a gentle laugh.

“That’s not funny.”

He sighed. “I know.” Dean kicked at a shard of glass with the tip of his boot, searching for the words she needed to hear.

Impatient and brimming with nerves, Y/N took a step away. “Talk. Now. Or I’m out.”

“OK. OK.” He held up a hand, begging for patience. His eyes were sad, his voice cracking. “It was Sam,” he said slowly. “Sam brought me back. He uh- he made some deal with Crowley and-” He looked off into the darkness and chewed his lip as if worried. “I don’t know the details, they wouldn’t tell me. But- I woke up in bed and… not even a scar.” The Mark burned his forearm and he covered it with his left hand, rubbing the ache beneath his shirt. “Well, except that one.”

Hesitant, she moved closer. “How can I believe you?”

Dean shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t even know if I believe it. But, I feel fine. They- Sam and Cas- they did all the tests. Holy water, silver… Fuck- Cas even did that reach into your chest and feel your soul thing… It’s all me.”

He sounded so sad, like her disbelief was breaking his heart. She took a breath and then another step in.

“Dean, I-”

Green eyes filled with tears, and Y/N held her breath.

“I woke up and you were gone,” he whispered. “Why did you run away?”

Sam’s hurtful dismissal echoed in her head, but she didn’t want Dean to feel any worse than he already did.

“I uh…” She looked down at the broken concrete, unable to watch his tears fall. “You were gone,” she said after a moment. “I didn’t see any reason to stay.”

When she looked back up, he was impossibly close, his lips drawing ever nearer. She held her breath and wished for the strength to run away, but it was Dean. He was alive. He was really fucking alive.

He brushed his fingertips over the apple of her cheek and she closed her eyes at the touch. It had been too long. Her soul was reaching out to him and she knew she was stuck.

“I missed you so much, Y/N,” he breathed. “So fucking much.”

She kissed him before he could get there, popping up on her toes to press herself against him. His hand came to rest on her cheek and his thumb massaged her temple like it used to. His tongue was just as warm and needy, his taste was still the same.

When she let him go, she smiled and the tears came. When he kissed her again, that old familiar heat returned.

“Dean…”

She led Dean to her apartment, too drunk on the moment to do anything but revel in the fact that he was alive.

“What was the deal, do you know?”

“Crowley’s been kind of a dick lately, are you sure there’s no catch?”

“What did Cas say when he soul-scanned you?”

Dean laughed sweetly as he followed her up the three flights of stairs to her attic rooms. “Calm down, Y/N/N. I’ve already told you what I know.”

When they reached the top landing, Dean grabbed her by the waist and tugged her to him. She gasped as her back hit his chest and his lips found her ear.

“Why don’t we just focus on us for tonight?” he breathed. The tip of his tongue shot out to trace the shell of her ear and Y/N’s eyes rolled back in pure arousal.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Us…”

Begrudgingly, Y/N pulled herself away long enough to unlock the door. Stepping into the dark living room, she flipped on the light and tossed her bag onto the kitchenette counter.

Dean was hovering outside the door with hands on the frame, pondering something. He scanned the room and cocked a brow.

“What?” she asked, looking suspiciously at him. “Did Crowley bring you back as a vampire? Do you need to be invited in?”

Dean laughed darkly and licked his lip. “No. Just, uh-”

Y/N’s nerves kicked up. “What’s wrong?”

“You stay here all by yourself?”

She laughed and let out a calming breath. “Yeah. And? I’m a big girl, Dean.”

He nodded with a smile. “Oh, I know you are. I’m just… worried. Ya know, about…” His face darkened slightly. “...Things. I don’t see any safety precautions.”

Y/N felt her cheeks blush. “Aww. You worried about me?”

He grinned and shrugged. “Can’t help it. It’s my job.”

With the movements of Vanna White, Y/N moved about the small room, showing off her hidden stash of supernatural weaponry. A silver knife tucked beneath the couch cushion; a bag of goofer dust in a decorative box on the bookshelf. A spare gun in the corner top cabinet of the tiny kitchen; a spray bottle filled with holy water by the aloe plant in the window.

“Impressive,” he admitted.

Y/N beamed with pride and then held up a finger. “Oh! And… so I don’t lose my security deposit by fucking up the hardwood…”

Rushing to the door, Y/N lifted the small, brown welcome mat and flipped it over. On the underside, crafted in bright orange spray paint, was an intricate Devil’s Trap. She winked up at him and tossed the mat to the side.

He seemed impressed. “Smart.”

“I got it all covered.”

Dean smiled and stepped inside. “You absolutely do.” He reached for her shoulders and pulled her close. “I’m glad. I don’t wanna lose you. Not again.”

Her heart ached for him, for the months they’d lost. “I’m so sorry I bolted, Dean. I just - I didn’t know what to do without you.”

Gently, he framed her face in his big hands and pressed his forehead to hers. “You’ll never have to find out, OK? I’m not going anywhere ever again.” He kissed her softly. “And neither are you.”

Each kiss was like magic. Every sweet memory was birthed into life and every nightmare faded away.

They fumbled in the living room, kissing like teenagers while stripping layers of clothing away. He kissed the redness her bra strap left behind and pinched each nipple in turn. She dragged his jeans down to his calves and licked at his boxers, covering his clothed dick with her hot mouth. It swelled against her tongue and she hummed hungrily.

Dean swayed above her and dropped a hand to her head, massaging gently. “Fuck, I missed you.”

She looked up with wide, innocent eyes and wet lips. “I want you,” she mewed. “So, so bad.”

He held her chin between two warm fingers and urged her to stand. “You’ve got me, babygirl. Always.”

She fell forward against him and went limp, her mind swimming with shock and desire, love and hope. He kissed her slowly and lifted her in his strong arms. She gasped as the floor fell away and looked at him in awe.

“I’ve got you.” He grinned.

Her bedroom was small, nearly filled wall to wall by the full-sized bed.

Dean laid her down and fell over her in one motion, suddenly between her thighs and rocking slowly.

Y/N moaned into his mouth and drew her hands over his body. Warm, solid. Alive.

He tugged at her panties and she shimmied herself free as he kicked his shorts away.

“I’m so fucking hard for you, babygirl,” he moaned, staring at her soft body, her vulnerable position spread open wide for him.

Her eyes fluttered, her nipples hardened. She arched her back and reached for him, but he had other plans.

Instead of returning to her arms, Dean slid down onto the bed and grabbed at her hips, tugging her close and locking her pussy against his mouth. He licked a hard stripe up her slit and her jaw dropped. He nudged her clit with his nose and her vision blurred. He dipped his tongue into her cunt and her hips bucked.

“God, it’s been too long,” she cried, squirming against him, desperate for him to devour her.

He took his time, expertly using all his knowledge of her body to drive her insane. Each breath, movement, flicker, kiss: it was all designed to edge her to the point of breaking. Up and down, like a coaster, he drove her need higher and higher only to drop it back down again until she was shaking and sobbing his name.

When he had licked every drop of will from her soul and her lips could no longer form the words her mind was screaming, Dean crawled over her trembling body and pressed his cock against her slit.

“P-plee-”

Dean thrust gently and circled his hips. “What’s that?”

Y/N shivered and licked her lips, desperate for some moisture to return to her mouth. “Pleea-”

“Try again.” He grinned. “Tell me what you want and it’s yours.”

Clenching her teeth, Y/N lifted her shoulders from the bed and clawed at his broad shoulders. “Fuck me. Please.”

Her begging made him growl and Dean dipped down to suck at her mouth as he pressed into her.

She screamed into his mouth as the fullness of his cock buried deep in her cunt spread pleasure through her system. She tightened around him, dug her heels into the dimples of his lower back, and nipped at the thick muscle of his throat.

“Missed… every… part… of this…” Dean's thrusts quickened with each word and Y/N broke, cumming hard and milking his cock with her pulsing muscles. He grit his teeth and let out a deep grunt as he came, flooding her cunt and settling against her.

“Jesus, Dean…”

They lay in quiet bliss, her back curled against his chest, his arms wrapped around her body. She traced the lines in his left palm with a delicate fingertip and sighed at the warmth pulsing off his skin.

It felt like Heaven to be back in his arms, so close once more. Safe and smiling, she started to drift off next to him, each rise and fall of his chest against her lulling her to sleep.

“So glad you’re here,” she whispered.

Dean kissed her shoulder and dragged his hand down her arm. “Me too.” When he reached her elbow, he moved down to her knee and lightly scratched up the side of her thigh and into the curve of her waist. “I would have come sooner, but I had some things to take care of first.”

She hummed happily at the tingle radiation from his touch and snuggled a little closer.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.” Another kiss on her shoulder, one on her throat. “Some things couldn’t be avoided…” His nails ran down her thigh and back up again, the pressure increasing slightly.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “What were you doing all this time? It’s been months… you could have called or something.”

His touch hardened and she cringed as his nails scraped hard against her hip bone.

“I told you, I was busy.” Another scratch over her belly, a jab on her ribs. “People to see, places to burn.”

She stiffened. “What?”

Dean sucked hard on her pulse and clawed at her leg.

“Hey! Ouch!” Y/N squirmed and tried to pull away, but he kept her there, held captive by his strong arms. “Dean!”

He hissed into her ear and cut the skin on her hip with the blunt nail of his index finger. “Stop. Squirming.”

“What are you doing? Stop!”

She thrashed against him and his hand clamped down into the meat of her thigh and tore until she felt a gush of warm blood.

“Dean!”

Y/N slapped at his arms, bucked her hips back, and fought against his hold, but he wouldn’t be moved.

Annoyed, he sank his teeth into her shoulder and broke the skin, forcing a cry from her lips. He licked the wound and swirled his tongue into the grooves he’d made, laughing.

“You stupid cunt. You should know better than to invite a dead man into your bed.”

Pain and fear flashed through her and Y/N managed to get away and turn over.

Blood dripped down his chin and he moaned in ecstasy as he licked a drop from his lips.

Her heart pounded. Her skin crawled.

“What are you?”

In a flash too quick for her to register, Dean was on his hands and knees, stalking toward her like a lion.

“What am I?”

He grinned as she cowered and set his hands on either side of her hips. He leered down at her, upper lip twitching and breath heavy.

“I’m Dean 2.0, bitch.”

He blinked and her world shattered.

Icy black ink flooded his gorgeous green eyes, eclipsing every bit of him, body and soul.

Y/N sucked in a terrified breath and he laughed wildly.

“You thought I was back from the dead? I never died. This- thing- this mark on my arm- it kept me alive. It gave me a new life.”

“It made you a monster,” she spat, determined to go down swinging if she was indeed headed that way.

Dean exhaled hard and his glee turned to devilish anger. His face turned as dark as his eyes and he sneered. “It made me better.” Reaching down, he cupped her left breast and circled the globe with his fingers splayed out. “All the fun, all the charisma, and sex appeal… None of the pesky guilt or morals…” His hand flexed and each nail ripped deep into her flesh, opening new wounds and drawing fresh blood.

He covered her scream with a kiss and Y/N tried with all her might to kick him off, bite his tongue, anything to get him to back up. When he jabbed his tongue down her throat, she gathered up every ounce of strength and brought her knee to his crotch, smashing his sack upwards.

Demon or not, he felt it.

Dean let out a roar and released her, rolling onto his back and grabbing himself in pain.

“You bitch! I’m gonna rip your fucking heart out!”

Shaking, she bolted, running through the closest door she saw.

The bathroom was old and ill-lit, but the cabinets were deep and filled with supplies.

Grunts echoed behind the door as she quickly wrapped a bandage around her shoulder and poured a painful ounce of alcohol onto her chest. She hissed at the sting and held onto the edge of the sink to catch her breath.

“Did you really just run into the bathroom? I can break down that door with my pinky finger.”

He was closer, surely stumbling through the messy bedroom. Y/N looked at her reflection and held back a stream of tears.

“Just leave and we’ll forget this ever happened!” She shouted at the door. “I won’t tell if you won’t!”

Laughter answered her. “And who the fuck do you think you’re gonna tell? Everyone you know is gone!”

Her stomach flipped. She froze. “Sam?”

Dean jiggled the doorknob. “Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Casually, he turned and leaned his back against the door. “Sam’s out of commission. Permanently.”

“You… you killed him?”

“Nah. Just put the fear of God into him. Sent him off for a little me time in the I.C.U.”

Y/N yanked open the cabinet under the sink and pulled a worn leather toiletry bag from the back.

“See, he and Cas, they got stupid. They thought they could cure me. Rip the demon outta me.”

She swallowed hard. “Oh? How’d that go?”

“How do you think?”

Just for fun, he jiggled the locked knob again, making her jump.

“Tell me all about it. You know I love a good ritual!” Trembling, she pulled a pistol from the bag and loaded it with bullets from the medicine cabinet. It wouldn’t kill him, but it would slow him down.

Dean knew she was stalling, trying to keep him talking while she regrouped. Hell, he’d taught her that. Still, he enjoyed fucking with her, so he played along.

“That whole closing the Gates of Hell thing? The last trial was curing a demon. You remember. You were there, cheering Sammy along.”

Y/N shivered at the memory of the dank chapel and Sam nearly collapsing with each syringe of blood she extracted from his veins. “I remember. So what, it didn’t work on you?”

Dean turned and pressed his palm to the door. “Not. Even. A little.”

“Huh. Weird.”

“Oh, don’t misunderstand. They tried.”

Y/N withdrew an old metal canteen from the bag and shook it. A tiny wave of holy water sloshed inside. It was enough, she hoped, to get her out the door and down the stairs.

Dean ran his finger down a groove in the door and pushed his ear against the wood, listening for her racing heart.

“Did a good job of it, too. Tied me up in the dungeon… big Devil’s Trap on the floor. I was stuck for a while, I’ll admit that. Good old Sammy coming in for the save. But ya know something, Y/N/N? I just couldn’t let him do it. I like what I am now. It’s fun. Hell, I feel like I’m on a permanent fucking vacation! This is great!”

Ready to attempt an escape, Y/N tugged on a dirty shirt and a pair of shorts from the floor and braced herself.

“So what happened? How’d you get out?”

He laughed. “Oh, you know me. I always find a way out. And trust me, when I did… Sammy was not happy. Neither was I. Not until I bashed - his face in - with my boot.”

Every pause was a punch against the wood and Y/N felt each in her gut.

She swallowed hard. “And what about Castiel? You said he was there.”

Dean sighed. “Oh, I sent his ass packing. Little graffiti on the wall and bam! He got sent off to wherever the fuck angels go when they get blasted off the Earth. Sayonara, auf wiedersehen, good riddance.”

“And-”

The door shook as Dean slammed his hands into it, cutting her off.

“Can we just get to it, please? I’m bored with this monologue.”

She unscrewed the canteen’s cap.

“Actually, it’s a dialogue. If it was just you talking, it would be a monologue.”

Dean clenched his jaw and growled. “Oh, I am truly going to enjoy biting that tongue out of your mouth.”

Another slam on the door and the wood splintered. The cheap lock gave way and Dean pushed inside, grinning.

Not a second was wasted. With a nearly perfect mix of dexterity and core self-preservation instinct, Y/N lunged forward and swung the canteen, dousing Dean’s face with the blessed liquid. His skin burned instantly and he let out an aggravated roar as she spun around him and leapt for the front door.

He caught her before she reached the couch, roughly grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her up off the floor. Her shriek echoed through the small attic abode and she grabbed at his forearm, desperate to hold herself up and relieve some of the pain spreading across her scalp.

Dean laughed and lifted her higher.

White flashed on the edges of her vision and Y/N swung her legs back hard, kicking down into the top of his kneecap, making him stumble.

His ire was evident. Effortlessly, Dean tossed her down and Y/N slid across the old hardwood floor as if she were a ragdoll. Her bare legs skidded on the thin planks, stopping her before she slammed into the wall.

Dizzy and aching, Y/N withdrew the gun from the waistband of her shorts and took aim. Heels dug into the floor and shoulders tight, she flipped off the safety and took a deep breath.

Her finger tensed on the trigger, but Dean was fast. A swift kick had Y/N screaming again and she felt the bones in her right wrist snap.

The gun flew from her hands and landed on the rug by the kitchen sink, too far out of reach.

Dean cocked his head, looking down at Y/N as she cradled her arm. “A gun, Y/N/N? Really? What were you gonna do, shoot me?”

Panting, she sneered up at him. “That is generally what one does with a gun.”

Dean sucked his teeth in annoyance and shook his head. “You’ve always been a witty bitch. It’s very annoying.”

“I seem to recall you liked it.”

Onyx washed over his green eyes again and her pulse quickened.

“Not anymore,” he whispered.

Her body was rigid with fear; her veins throbbed with panic. Dean shifted and bent down at her feet. Y/N jolted back, kicking at him while pulling herself toward the door. He grabbed her calf and yanked her back, nearly dislocating her hip.

His voice was steady, too calm, too sure. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going? I didn’t say you could leave.”

Shaking, she thrashed in his grasp, trying to twist her leg free. He held tight.

“Let me go!”

Dean laughed. “Oh… come on. You really think I’m just gonna let you walk out? Sweetheart, you’re not leaving here. Not breathing anyway.”

Knowing what was coming, Y/N took a deep breath and tensed her body inward.

His hands were impossibly huge, wrapping nearly entirely around her neck. His palms pressed hard into her windpipe and his fingertips dug in deep.

She slapped at his arms and kicked at his shins.

“Just stop,” he whispered. “It’ll be easier if you just stop.”

Going back to the playbook, Y/N brought her left knee high, but missed his crotch entirely, jabbing into his thigh instead.

Dean groaned and removed his hold on her throat.

She gasped in relief but the moment was short. Tangling his fist in her hair, Dean lifted her head only to knock it back down with a hard punch to her jaw. Sparks littered her vision and Y/N could feel the broken blood vessels under her eye leak.

Defiant, she blinked until her head was clear, and spit. “Fuck you.”

Another punch nearly knocked her unconscious and the third broke her cheekbone and shifted her nose out of alignment. Dean heard the snap and smiled viciously. He leaned in close and watched the bridge of her nose swell. Blood dripped from a cut above her eye and he pressed his tongue flat against it, licking up the mess.

“So fucking sweet…”

Dean let go of her hair and Y/N’s head crashed back onto the floor, her neck limp and useless like a crushed flower stem.

“Why?”

He sat back, pinning her legs beneath him, and pondered her question.

“I don’t know. Maybe you eat too much sugar…”

His laugh made her cringe and Y/N shook her head. It felt as if her brain was both swollen and sloshing around in her skull. It was hard to think; her thoughts were disjointed and fleeting.

“W-why are you doing this?”

Dean took a deep, satisfying breath and leaned forward. “Freedom,” he whispered, caging her head with his arms and moving in close, brushing his nose against hers. His eyes were still dark and he never blinked, looking deep into her aching soul. “Because I wanna be free from all the drama and responsibilities. Free from all the goddamned whining and guilt and love crap. I took out Cas, nearly killed my baby brother, and now it’s your turn. I can’t leave loose ends, Y/N. Don’t want any of you coming after me and putting an end to the fun.”

Darkness was gathering around her like a vignette closing in on the image of her life. She fought against it, ignoring the searing pain in her bones and the growing urge to let go and sleep.

“Someone will,” she moaned. “Might not be me, but someone’s gonna stop you. Cas will. Sam will. They won’t let you live like this. Not like a filthy fucking demon asshole piece of shit!”

Dean grabbed her throat again, squeezing tight with one large hand. “Knight of Hell, actually,” he corrected with a slick smile. “But that’s quite a potty mouth you’ve developed. I approve.” His thumb and index finger pressed into her artery, blocking the blood and making her head spin. She clawed at his wrist but her body grew weaker by the second.

Desperate, she looked up at the man she used to love with tears flooding her eyes and whispered his name with her last breath.

“Dean…”

The air returned in a rush as if someone had opened an airplane door mid-flight. She gasped and the color around her brightened, including the emerald of his eyes.

“Oh, I’m having too much fun with you, Y/N/N. Way too much fun.” He slid a hand slowly down her body, enjoying the look of revulsion painting her broken face. “I was planning on killing you outside that bar, but- I saw this… body again…” He grabbed her unmarred breast and kneaded it hard. “Saw these curves…” His fingers trailed downwards; his touch feasting on every ample curve. “I just had to have you one more time.”

“Get. Off. Of. Me.” Her words were clipped, her throat raw and bleeding inside.

With a smirk, Dean reached into her shorts and grabbed her pussy. His nails pinched the delicate flesh of her labia and Y/N grit her teeth at the pain.

“No,” he answered. “Don’t think I will.”

With demonic strength, he flipped her over in a split second and slammed her onto the floor. He held her down with a firm palm pressed between her shoulder blades while the other yanked her hips up high. He tugged down her shorts as she cried; slicked up his cock with a handful of spit while she struggled. Sharp, hot pain spread up her spine and down into each nerve. She screamed and he laughed, thrusting into her tightness without hesitation, violating her body without care. Her entire being revolted and fought, but it was no use.

She closed her eyes and tried to pray but the words were fading, her vision blurring. She held her breath, trembling while he finished, covering her lower back with a thick rope of his evil seed.

Momentarily satisfied, Dean dropped down on top of her, his full weight crushing her deeper into the unyielding hardwood floor. He licked the line of tears from her cheek and nibbled delicately on her ear.

“Ya know, I’m having so much fun with you, I may keep you around.”

Y/N shuddered. “I’d…I’d rather you killed me, thanks.”

Feigning compassion, Dean rolled off of her back and onto his side. He pressed his face to the floor, mirroring her position, and softly brushed the hair back from her eyes.

“I’m not going to kill you. Not yet.” He winked and pressed his lips to hers.

It took all her strength not to scream. “Please,” she choked, “just… end it.”

With a sigh, Dean popped up onto his elbow and debated. “I could. Very easily. Just one… little… twist of my wrist around your throat and you’d be dead. Clean. Easy.”

“So, do it.”

“No.” Again, he ran his fingers lightly through her hair and tucked a few strands behind her ear. “I think we’ll keep playing.”

Tears ran freely from her eyes. “Please, Dean-”

“How about this…” He laid back down and moved in closer so she could feel the breath of every word against her lips. “We’ll play hide and seek. If you can hide well enough, I’ll let you live.”

“W-what?”

He kissed her cheek. “I’ll give you a head start. Thirty-six hours to hide and then… I’mma comin’.”

Before she could answer or even absorb his words, Dean pulled her head up and slammed it back down, shutting out the lights.

She was sure an alarm was going off. A high-pitched shriek pulled her out of the darkness and Y/N peeled her eyes open only to realize that the ringing was in her head.

Sunlight broke through the shabby window blinds and stabbed her eyes. She groaned at the pain and tried to sit up, but her head was throbbing, her body bruised and covered in scabs of dried blood.

For a moment she couldn’t remember where she was. The apartment looked strange, the air foreign. A rotten, metallic scent filled her nose. She cringed and sat up, instantly regretting it as pain gripped her body. Her ribs were cracked; her wrist shattered. Confusion tickled her mind like drops of acid rain. She closed her eyes and the blackness there brought it all back.

Coal eyes.

Ruddy lips.

Leather, and smoke, and cheap cologne.

Dean’s evil, blood-tinged smirk flashed in her mind and Y/N broke. Tears welled and fell without permission and her stomach emptied, washing the antique hardwood with hot bile.

When her body calmed and she could shift the pain enough to think clearly, his words came back to her.

“I’ll give you a head start… Thirty-six hours to hide…”

Thirty-six hours to run and try to hide from him. Thirty-six hours to figure out how the hell to come out of this alive.

For a moment, all she wanted to do was climb into bed and sleep until zero hour, but she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

It took her twenty-two minutes to grab her Go Bag, pull on some clean clothes, and leave.

She left her interim life behind and headed out to meet her fate.

The roads were long and her body betrayed her at every turn. The face she was in the rearview mirror wasn’t her own. It was broken and flushed; her gaze devoid of hope.

Just outside of Alpharetta, she stopped for gas. She ignored the looks of concern from strangers and declined an offer of help from the station attendant. Breezing through, Y/N slammed two bills on the counter and left as quickly as she came, accompanied by a symphony of chimes that rang above the door.

Twice, she had to pull over to vomit. She retched onto the dusty roadside, heaving fluid and burning her throat. There was nothing left inside of her, nothing keeping her going but pure, dim-witted faith that everything would turn out fine.

She called Sam every few minutes, timing her attempts with the passing exit signs. There was never an answer, never a ring. Her calls went right to voicemail and after the twentieth try, she gave up.

When the pain was bad and her body cramped up, protesting the old car seat and the constant pressure of her foot on the gas, Y/N took a breath and closed her eyes. She prayed to Cas, begging him to help, to show up and heal her, to find Dean and…

She wasn’t sure what she wanted for Dean. He’d ripped her to the core and there was no coming back from what he’d done, but still- it was Dean. He needed- deserved- to be saved no matter what his slick black heart wanted.

And what he wanted right now was her limp, exsanguinated corpse at his feet.

Outside of Dalton, she changed course. Dean was a midwestern boy and most likely to keep to the west, so she headed east, aiming to land as far from the Bunker as possible.

Time was ticking away and her hope was fading.

Miles stretched on forever and her eyes grew heavy. Watching the sun begin to sink behind the lush mountains of New York State, Y/N felt as heavy as the sky. Struggling to keep her eyes open and consciousness with her, she dug her fingers into the wound on her shoulder, clawing at the skin his teeth had ripped. The surge of fresh pain pulled her awake long enough to get to the next exit, and the next.. and the next.

Sam never called her back.

Cas never showed.

Dean’s dark laughter and poisonous words echoed in her soul, haunting every moment.

Somewhere near Rockport, she collapsed. The blackness peaked around her vision and overtook her, knocking her out as the lights from oncoming traffic reflected on the windshield. She came to at the last second, pulling at the wheel and jerking the car away from the blue minivan headed straight for her. The vehicle left the road and slid across the rain-slicked shoulder into an open lot. Tires skidded on loose gravel; the air was silent as she held her breath.

She gripped the wheel tightly and slammed her foot onto the break, nearly busting through the floorboard.

The crash was quick. Silence was shattered by the sound of metal hitting concrete as the Tucson's front end crumpled against the corner of a building. The impact knocked her back out and Y/N slumped in the seat, her body held up by the seat belt, not will.

Ringing woke her again. Heavy head lolling on her shoulders, Y/N managed to quiet the noise as she yanked her cell from her back pocket. The screen was cracked but she could still read the message:

‘Time’s Up. Ready or not- here I come.’

Ice ran through her veins and she shook herself, desperate to clear her vision and think. There was no way he had followed her. Pointless turns, random exits, and twelve hundred miles left a mere dusting of breadcrumbs. It would be a hard path to track, even for a demon.

Another ding made her jump.

‘Better run 😈’

Every joint protested; her flesh screamed. Y/N bit back a cry as she forced the door open and fell onto the damp stone ground. A light mist began to fall, peppering her bloodied face with cool droplets that offered a moment of relief.

‘I’d get away from that wreck if I were you - the engine could blow…’

Y/N fell back onto her ass when the text came through. Shocked and terrified, she scanned the open lot for any sign of him but she was alone. The only tracks were her own, the only sound was the busted radiator hissing behind her.

“Dean?” Her voice was weak. Fear leaked into every inch of her but she clutched her phone tight and struggled to her feet. “You don’t have to do this, you know!” Grimacing, she pulled open the back door and dug through her bag. “We can just- I don’t know- call it even and walk away.” She tucked a flask of holy water into her right back pocket and tucked an anointed silver knife into the left. “No harm, no foul.” She withdrew her pistol and checked the magazine. “What do you say?”

“I choose harm.”

He was close.

Y/N fumbled with the gun; hand shaking as her broken wrist sent white-hot shards of pain up through her elbow and beyond. Swinging around, she readied herself for the fight, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Dean?” She swallowed hard and dug deep. “I thought I was the one doing the hiding.”

His laugh wrapped around her.

“Oh no, sweetheart. That’s you. And you should hop to it.”

His voice was coming from every direction at the same time. Left, right, behind her, below her. It was like standing in a fun house full of mirrors and Y/N felt her stomach churn.

“Go on!” He clapped his hands and the sound thundered around her. “Run!”

Instinct drove her to the left and quickly she fit herself through the rotted planks of what used to be a door. She stepped inside and blinked into soft darkness.

A shadowed silhouette in the dim light, Y/N rushed through the ruins of the abandoned fishery. Thick steel columns rose from the concrete slab beneath her feet to high overhead. Wind hissed through gaps in the roof, slithered through broken window panes, and whirled around her like the icy breath of death. The stink of seawater and fish lived forever locked into the essence of the building and Y/N gagged as she ran through the space. There was nowhere to hide safely and the ache of pain and exhaustion threatened to pull her down.

Dean broke through the pitiful door with one swift kick of his right leg. He stepped inside, his shadow reaching across the gray stone floor.

In a panic, Y/N dove behind a stack of wooden crates and crouched down. She readied her weapons.

His boots fell like anvils and his steps echoed loudly.

“Here kitty, kitty, kitty…”

Y/N shuddered. Her breath was ragged and loud. She bit her lip to try and hold it in.

“Give up, Y/N/N- There’s nowhere else to go!”

He was right. She was fucked.

“H-how’d you find me, anyway?” she asked, lifting her voice and projecting to her left.

Dean turned towards her words. He walked slowly but deliberately and every step made her heart beat harder in her ears.

“I’ve got my ways,” he called back.

She could hear the smirk on his lips and it made her sick. “Oh? Do tell…” Carefully, she crawled to the right and slipped around another pile of boxes.

Dean searched for her around each column and stack, taking his time as if eternity was his to play with.

“I honestly thought it would have been a little harder,” he confessed. “But as it turns out, Little Miss Clever forgot to turn off her phone’s GPS.”

Y/N’s heart sank. “Fuck.”

“It’s OK. We all fuck up sometimes. Some of us more than others.”

He sounded far away, so Y/N stood up to peer over the crates. She saw him on the other side of the massive room and let go of a breath of momentary belief. When she turned back, her heel slid through a puddle of slimy muck and she faltered, tumbling into the crates. The topmost box careened off the pile and smashed onto the floor.

Dean’s head snapped towards the splintered mess and his green eyes flickered black. “Gotcha.”

They both ran. It was hardly a proper chase. Dean leapt across the floor with demonic speed as Y/N stumbled, her body too broken and twisted to perform beyond a halfhearted sprint.

Dean grabbed a fistful of her hair and whipped her backward, tossing her to the ground. She hit the concrete with a gut-wrenching crash that sent a shockwave of numbness down her spine. Her head bounced off the stone and she swallowed a scream.

“Wow.” Dean stood over her, looking down with a narrow, curious gaze. “You really look like shit.”

Blood pooled on her tongue and Y/N rolled onto her side to spit it out. “Me?” She laughed, pained but brave. “You should see yourself. The Hellfire’s not doin’ you any favors.”

A wide grin broke out across his freckled face and the demon ran a hand through his hair. “Oh, come on,” he teased with a wink. “I make this look good.”

The walls were spinning and Y/N was sure her time was up. She grit her teeth and pushed up with her hands, ready to spin and run if she could. “Hey, Dean? Fuck you.”

His grin morphed into a sneer. “Been there. Done that. Not lookin’ for a replay.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, rolling onto her hands and knees. “It wasn’t that great for me either.”

Irked by her nerve, Dean lunged for her but Y/N had other plans. His fingers curled around her shoulder, and as he jerked her back, she pulled the blade from her hip pocket and swung, burying it deep between his ribs. Dean lurched back, teeth clenched with a roar.

“You bitch!”

The blessed silver burned his flesh but he pulled it free and the skin closed easily.

It wasn’t enough to stop him, but it gave her time to get away.

Offices sat at the back of the building, their doors promising a moment’s reprieve. Y/N tried door after door in a panic, but each was locked. When she heard Dean’s approach, she gave up and slipped around a corner, doing her best to keep quiet as she pulled another trick from her pocket.

Dean grabbed her before she could get far, his nails breaking the skin on her left forearm as he hauled her back into the open. She spun to face him and spit a mouthful of holy water into his eyes. The water soaked into his demonic skin and burned him deeply. Steam rose from his cheeks, singed his lashes, and pulled a terrifying cry from his burning lips.

“Keep running!” he dared, doubled over as the flesh on his brow healed. “I’m enjoying this!”

Back into the night, Y/N ran from the building and down a long wooden pier. The derelict packing plant was situated on the edge of the Atlantic, with slips for fishing vessels still seated in the cold water. The gray ocean slapped at the aged wooden posts and the spray mixed with the rain, chilling Y/N to the core.

Hopping over broken planks and discarded hunks of metal, nets, and empty bottles, Y/N ran until there was no place left to run. The pier ended in a steep drop off with nothing below but the sea, and Y/N finally lost faith.

The pain was too much, the path too broken and pointless.

Looking out at the horizon, she prayed one last time. Not for herself, but for Him. She prayed that Castiel would return from wherever the hell he’d been blasted off to. She prayed that Sam would wake up and fight. She prayed that Hell would spit Dean out and Heaven would take him back.

She heard his footsteps; felt the danger on the nape of her neck. She closed her eyes.

“You really don’t have to do this,” she whispered.

He sighed. “You’re right. I don’t have to…”

A tiny spark of hope burned in her chest and Y/N turned around with a small smile percolating on her lips.

“But I want to.”

The First Blade cut through her like she was nothing. Dean pressed the bone deep into her stomach and lifted his arm, dragging Y/N up off of her feet. Her body tensed and then went limp, her eyes wide with shock, her lips parted with a dying breath.

“Dean…”

He caught her against his chest and cradled her head on his shoulder.

“Sorry, kid. I can’t leave loose ends…”

He kissed her forehead and then pulled back quickly. Her body fell at his feet and he wiped the blade on his jeans, smearing the last of her blood on his thigh.

Rain fell freely, washing the blood away and pooling it like a halo around her body.

Her phone rang, but the sound did not wake her.

Sam’s name flashed over the screen.

‘Y/N I’m so sorry. Stay away from him. He got away. We tried to save him but he got free. Please. If you see Dean-

Stay Away.’

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@alwaystiredandconfused @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lunaroserites @lyarr24 @nancymcl @nix-rose @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @rosecentury @sexyvixen7 @suckitands33 @the-wounded-healer05

#spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #demon dean #dean winchester fanfic #dean x reader #jacklesversebingo23

101 notes · View notes

riku-izanami · 1 year ago

Text

Costume Chaos

Inside the Team Jnpr Dorm, Blake, Yang, Coco, Velvet, & members of NPR sat around the room waiting for a certain someone to appear in his future Halloween costume.

Jaune: Are you guys ready?

Ren: whenever you are

Nora: Show us what you got jaune-jaune!

Pyrrha: You got this jaune

Yang: *whispering to Coco* wanna beat it's something cheesy

Coco: Your On

Blake & Velvet: Why do I smell blackberry perfume

The bathroom door opened, revealing Jaune Arc, wearing a black cloak with a flared collar. However, what everyone else is paying attention to is the makeup on his face.

Blake: is he wearing...

She didn't get to finish as he threw off his cloak, Revealing what, more so who his costume was

Jaune: SO.....thoughts

Ren:......

Blake: *nose bleed*

Velvet: 0_0

Yang: *laughing* No...Fucking....Way!

Coco: DAMN IT. WHY DID I THINK OF FRANK N FURTER. THIS IS GENIUS!

Pyrrha: *pyrrha.exe stopped working*

Nora: *wolf whistle* LOOKIN GOOD FEAR-LESS LEADER!

Jaune: *blushing* AWW......Shucks

Yang: *in between breaths* So......what....made.....you....think....of this

Jaune: Well.......I what would be the most unique and non overused costume and *gestures to his outfit* this came to mind

Pyrrha:*Pyrrha.exe reactivated* I thought we were doing a group theme

Jaune: We are! Ren is going as Riff Raff, Nora Columbus, and you can be Magenta

Ren: sounds good.

Nora: I'm the fun one!

Pyrrha: Oh she sounds lovely

The other teams looked at him like he was joking

Jaune: What?

Yang: you just said Pyrrha Nikos, the invincible girl, be a maid.....

Jaune: yeah so.?

Velvet: Jaune....She has to be Rocky....

Pyrrha: Who? I'm sorry but I don't know any of these characters

Blake: I'll show you the movie later, but for now, Rocky is Jaune's boy toy

Pyrrha:...0////0 oh

Jaune: Yeah, I thought that too. I mean *in an on-point Frankfurter accent* she is the perfect female specimen.

Pyrrha: *blushing and smiling*

Jaune:....But I don't think she'd be comfortable wearing just a gold bikini.

Pyrrha: but...

Coco, Yang, Blake, & velvet: true/there's a lot of horn dogs here/plus someone may post her on Dustnet

Pyrrha: but....

Jaune: So I got Sun to play him instead

And right on cue, Sun appeared wearing a gold Speedo.

Sun: And I look fantastic

Blake: *full on Geyser nosebleed*

Yang: *whistles* wow, you really put much effort into this.

Jaune: thank you *beaming pridefully* now *back in the accent* Come Rocky~ *he jumps into Sun's arms* we must make you the man you're meant to be

Sun: *carrying him bridal style* dude, if I wasn't bi-curious before..I am now

the two proceed out the door, followed by Pyrrha

Pyrrha: Hey, I wanna be Rocky. Can I be Rocky instead? Please!

Back in the dorm.

Yang:...Is it weird I kinda wanna fuck vb now after that?

Coco: Not really

Blake: I wonder if he wants a Janet too?

Ren: Do you think the staff will allow us to pull this off?

Velvet: probably not?

______________________________________________________________

MEANWHILE, in Ozpin's office

Goodwitch: Excuse me, sir, I've got the test result you asked for

Ozpin: *spinning around in a FrankFurter costume* thank you Glynda, and please, call me Ozzie~

Goodwitch:..........why......

#jaune arc #rwby #lie ren #blake belladonna #nora valkyrie #pyrrha nikos #yang xiao long #coco adel #velvet scarlatina #glynda goodwitch #rwby ozpin #the rocky horror picture show #costume chaos

244 notes · View notes

lopsicle · 6 days ago

Text

••The Only Time I Ever See Him••

AN: Surprise @fictitious-fluff , I’m getting a bit of deja vu here!! Apologies, I had to sub in since your original Squealing Santa had to drop out, so I’m sorry this is later than normal! The prompts you left behind were super cute and I hope you enjoy this fic!!

Characters: Lee! Hunter, Ler! Willow.

Summary: After hallucinating in the Noceda family bathroom, Hunter ends up in a bit of a panicking tiff. Luckily, Willow is there to help him.

Warnings: SFW tickle fic, hallucinations, hurt/comfort.

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

He was there. Hunter had seen him, saw them actually, two people. Awoken by some branches scraping at the walls of the Noceda residence, Hunter was already on edge as he creaked his way upstairs to investigate the low, scratching noise. Every step he took felt like he was about to trod on a rattlesnake, the house felt like one big bear trap like this, alone and isolated in the cover of night. It reminded him of how he used to sneak out of the castle with Flapjack; he found it difficult to get out of the mindset that one wrong step, incorrect turn or loud noise would result in the loss of his best friend. Hunter took in a deep breath as he scoured through the house, occasionally lingering in the doorway of his friend’s bedrooms just to make sure they were okay. He considered checking on Miss Camila too, but something about bothering her rubbed him the wrong way, nerves clamming up as he reached towards her door handle.

He shook his head. He shouldn’t bother her. Though, his nerves were still jittery, like there was some monster under her skin waiting to burst out at any second. Water. He needed some water. Flicking on the light to the bathroom, Hunter immediately made his way over the sink, spinning the faucet until a geyser of cool water began spilling out. He wetted his hands before leaning down and splashing them against his face. Then, Hunter barely opened his eyes and looked in the mirror, as if to check that he was was still here. And that’s when he saw him. Them, in fact, two of them.

Belos came first, not the horrific monster that resembled something of a Lovecraft book, but the kind, gentle uncle he had once knew. The one with an injured streak of green magic scarring his face, and silver hair that had been aged with wisdom and a necessity to survive. Hunter barely recalled Belos talking about his injury, the one supposedly caused by wild magic, though Hunter had no way of deciphering truth and deceit from his mouth anymore.

“We are kin, Hunter, our scars are a permanent reminder of our failures. They’ll remind us to keep pushing forward, but also that we will always be united.”

What was once a comforting speech about how Hunter could always rely on his uncle now just served to remind him that his blood was running through his veins. If that even was how Grimwalkers worked, who knew what other vile things Belos had to do to make his body. The memory flashed through his mind like an icicle had crashed through his spine, just the thought of how willingly and stupidly he helped his uncle in the past was enough to send him stumbling away from Belos’ cold, sadistic gaze. His hand struck upwards to his face as his fingers involuntarily traced the scar on his chin, the fingerprint of Belos.

The next face was his own, the mask that had been sewn onto him since birth. A man who he never knew existed until just a month or so ago, yet had dictated his entire life. Caleb. He seemed tired, exhausted and if Hunter squinted, he could’ve sworn that Caleb looked disappointed in him. How could he not be? The last of the Grimwalkers, all of those people, all of those murdered and it all lead up to just him. Sure, Belos was dead but it wasn’t like Hunter believed that, that monster would find a way to cling to life for even a few more seconds no matter the depraved cost. He hadn’t won or defeated Belos, he was trapped in another world, although the human world somehow felt comfortable. Maybe he just didn’t have anything for him back in the Isles, except for Darius, or maybe it was the Caleb in him talking, happy to finally be back home.

Hunter yelped pathetically, barely finding his voice as he tucked his head to the side, staring away from the mirror. Clutching the sides of his hair while his torso shook and jittered slightly, Hunter took in deep breaths as well as he could, trying to copy it how Luz taught him. They were far from perfect but they calmed him down just enough to barely able to just barely open one of his eyes and look back in the mirror.

It was just him, a few feet away from the mirror from jumping back, hunched over with his hands on the sides of his head. Hunter grimaced, really missing that masked confidence right about now. He blinked a few times, making sure that it was really him and not Caleb. Satisfied that he was no longer seeing things, Hunter slowly rose back to his normal stature and got ready to le-

“Hunter?” A soft voice called from the doorway, though it felt like a shock to his heart. Hunter jumped back once more, startled like a deer, and turned to face where the voice had came from. There stood Willow, who was just rubbing her eyes groggily but had flinched back at Hunter’s reaction, a little stunned herself. A few moments passed in silence as Hunter felt like his tongue was stolen, not exactly sure what to say. Eventually though, Willow stepped into the room, a look of confused sympathy in her eyes.

“What are you doing up still? Are you alright?” She asked, her voice was quiet, not just to ensure that she wouldn’t wake the others.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Hunter decided, avoiding that last question. Willow didn’t seem to mind but she could feel more conceal bubble in her gut.

“I saw that my bedroom door was left open, and then I heard someone scream in here,” she explained, each of her words clear and slow. Hunter nodded in a grimace recollection.

“Oh, right, that was me-both of those things were..” he then turned his face away, finding the floor more interesting. Willow stepped forward with a soft smile, lightly leaning against the wall.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” she then slid down the wall and repositioned herself to have her back pressed up against it, with her legs crossed. She patted the spot next to her and after a moment of thinking, Hunter steadily sat beside her, hugging her legs to his chest. He remained silent though, chin resting atop his knees as he stared idly forward, though Willow kept her attention on him.

“Did something happen?” She asked, easily slipping into the role of being a comforter. Hunter only managed a small hum of agreement to that question.

“Wanna talk about it?” Willow then followed up with, a light question, one which Hunter could easily back out of or lean into though. He choose the former though, just shaking his head. Willow felt her face soften, a strong sense of empathy running through her as she could only imagine what was going on with Hunter. Luckily, she knew a full proof fix to any emotional problem!

“Want a hug?” She offered, opening her arms just a little as she scooted a little to face him. It took a Hunter a moment of consideration, fear filling him like bile until he delicately allows himself to be taken into Willow’s arms. His arms found themselves clinging to the back of her neck, while hers secured his lower back. Hunter’s body was mostly draped over Willow’s warm legs, her whole body was warm actually, like a blanket on a winter day. Hunter breathed in, finally remembering what Luz told him, in for four seconds, out for four seconds and repeat. Willow took note of what he was doing and copied him, not wanting him to do it alone.

“Thanks, captain,” Hunter mumbled quietly once he was finally level headed again. Willow’s smile appeared a little brighter as Hunter looked up to stare at her. She began rubbing circles onto his back, and Hunter immediately returned the smile.

“Don’t thank me yet, you know, there is a price to these hugs,” Willow grinned, something sly appear in her eyes, the same look she’d house whenever she was scheming with Gus. Hunter’s brow furrowed in confusion, though he enjoyed the more playful tone the conversation was now shifting towards.

“Oh, and what would that be?” He asked, trying his best to play into whatever game Willow was playing right now. Suddenly, her grip on him tightened, practically scooping him closer to her from her hold on his back. Hunter squeaked as he stumbled over, ending up sitting on Willow’s lap, hands still messily clinging to her neck.

“Your laughter!” Willow exclaimed before her fingers greedily shot into Hunter’s sides, scraping about against his torso through the fragile fabric of his shirt. Hunter’s grip onto Willow immediately tightened, it probably wasn’t the best idea to cling onto the person tickling him, but something about it felt natural, like the right thing to do. Eyes widening, small laughter began to crackle out of his mouth, it came out in a disjointed manner, as if this was the first time he had ever laughed.

“Pffha-Wi-Wihihillow!!” He squeaked out, rooting his feet into the floor as his body became more rigid, doing her best not to make a fool of himself by squirming around. Willow grinned, spidering and skittering her nails across the lengths of his tummy, jabbing her nails into the pudgy skin every now and then.

“Aww, that is the cutest laughter I’ve ever heard!” Willow teased him, though she felt a bit of a blush form on her face, she was just glad Hunter didn’t notice as his entire face reddened at the praise, even getting a bit louder because of that.

“Aha-hahaha, I-I dohohohn’t-!!” Hunter couldn’t even got a full sentence out before squealing, his legs bucking as their placement became more wobbly. He fell forward, leaning against Willow with his cheek pressed against her chest. Seizing the opportunity, Willow reached both of her hands over to Hunter’s exposed right side before squeezing them playfully, prompting a few yelps from Hunter as he flailed about against her.

“Careful, Hunter,” Willow spoke in a chastising tone, “you don’t wanna wake up anyone else by being too loud, do you?” Somehow, Hunter’s face felt even more hot as he his heart thumped out of his chest. Taking her advice, he buried his face in her shoulder, trying to stifle all his squeals and laughter. Willow then crawled her fingers down to his hips, lightly tapping and pinching against them, causing Hunter to buck about in her arms.

“Thihihis is-cruhuhuel!” Hunter called out playfully, jerking about from side to side at the touch of Willow’s hands. The poor boy couldn’t even show his scarlet face, all he could really do was keep on laughing away in Willow’s arms. Willow just stared down at him adoringly, watching Hunter just melt away into giggles as he clung onto her. She began pressing her thumbs into his hips with more force, squishing her fingers down against her body, earning a few loud shrieks and cackles into her shoulder.

“Oh come on, you know you love it!” Willow smirked down at him, to which Hunter was only, barely able to meet her gaze, losing the will to speak. His eyes appeared weakly opened, sparkling with joy normally only seen in childhood, as if all of his problems were forced out with his laughter. Hunter could barely keep a hold on Willow, though he wasn’t squirming that much now, half because he didn’t want to get away and half because the poor boy was just too tired for it. As much as Willow adored this side of Hunter, one of the rare, fleeting moments that he wasn’t troubled by a need to survive, she could also recognise just how winded he was getting already. Rasping and gasping for breath, going red in the face, laying against her like a rock ready to sink down in a river, that was all it took for Willow’s fingers to begin lightening their assault, delivering a few more pinches to his sides to keep him all giggly.

Willow held Hunter as he remained in her arms, lightly rocking with each deep inhale he took. When his face returned to a lighter shade, he managed to face Willow, a little unsure of himself. Willow noticed and figured to lead.

“You feeling okay? Want some water?” She offered, to which he shook his head, already feeling more than satisfied.

“No-no, it’s okay-thanks Captain…for all of that,” Hunter added that last bit in an embarrassed mumble, barely able to believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. Willow just giggled adoringly at his behaviour.

“You wanna go back to bed?” Willow prompted him, but surprisingly, his grip on her didn’t loosen. He shook his head against her shoulder.

“Actually…would you mind if we-stayed like this..for a bit?” Hunter asked, though his tone wasn’t dripping with sadness, Willow had done a thorough job at tickling that out of him. He sounded more…comfortable, a similar feeling as to earning the trust of a stray cat. Willow’s smile remained bright on her first as she kept a tight hold on Hunter, like a teddy.

“Of course we can.”

#sfw tickling community #tickle fic #tickle content #sfw tickle #squealing santa #squealing santa 2k24 #the owl house tickle #toh tickle #lee hunter #ler willow #ticklish hunter

17 notes · View notes

mlmvoreconfessionals · 1 year ago

Note

How about Bill doing some cock vore? maybe some pec vore too!

Definitely! Technically prompts but also one continuous story, have fun.

L.egoshi grunts as he’s slammed onto the ground, B.ill’s strong arms wrapped around him. The two carnivores have gotten into another fight, and B.ill is overpowering the wolf. The bathroom it’s happening in is giving them at least some privacy for this. But it’s giving the tiger an idea as well, to really one up his rival. B.ill grins, sitting up and straddling L.egoshi. “You know, I think it’s time I really taught you a lesson…” With a quick tug, B.ill pulls his pants down, letting his impressive cock flops out onto L.egoshi’s chest. The wolf blushes darkly as he sees it, his own pants tenting a bit and poking B.ill in the ass. For a second, he wonders if this is why B.ill has been so aggressive with him. A few strokes gets B.ill hard and the tiger leans in closer, putting a hand on the wall behind L.egoshi. The wolf thinks he’s about to be offered the cock to suck, and he’s not hating the idea…but then B.ill thrusts forward, forcing L.egoshi’s entire muzzle into the tiger’s cock with a muffled yelp. He starts to thrash around now, hitting B.ill’s thighs. The tiger lets out a moan, tipping his head back as he starts to thrust his hips some more. L.egoshi’s head is slurped in fast, and then B.ill is getting down is shoulders and chest. Each thrust has B.ill’s cock swallow up more of L.egoshi, dragging the wolf across the bathroom floor as he disappears from sight. And the more of him that disappears, the more then B.ill’s nuts bulge out, stretching around L.egoshi’s form. The wolf’s kicking legs slid across the tiled floor, his body slurping out of sight. Bull pants and moans, shamelessly rubbing over his thick shaft as it swallows up its meals. He’s already leaking, forming a puddle on the floor. L.egoshi’s legs are soon disappearing, and even his kicking feet slip into B.ill’s shaft and slosh down into his nuts. “Ooooh fuck yeah…” B.ill lays back against his bulging nuts, panting and moaning as he pumps his cock. L.egoshi’s voice is muffled by the tiger’s nuts, his form stretching them out as he tries to struggle. They’re groaning and bubbling deeply, growing warm and working on all that wolf meat. With how horny B.ill is, they’re working fast, trying to turn all of that wolf meat into the tiger’s next load. His fur sloughs off his body, which gets progressively more white and sloppy. L.egoshi screams as he watches himself melt into the boiling pool of cum. His struggles lessen as he sinks down, his limbs and body turning into white slop. His screams turn into groans which turn into wet bubbles, his half melted head sinking below the bubbling pool. B.ill’s nuts grow round and smooth, and soon later, the tiger aims his cock and blows his load with a mighty tiger’s roar. A fresh load pumps out like a geyser, splattering onto the urinals on the room. They’re painted bright white and quickly overfilled, tiger’s cum and wolf bones overflowing them. Plenty of it gets on the floor and walls as well, but Bull doesn’t care at all. Pleasure wracks his body as he wastes the dumb wolf into a light tiger’s orgasm. It takes several minutes for him to finish and he lays back on the floor, panting and basking in the afterglow. Tiger cum drips off the wall, L.egoshi’s bones scattered around the urinals. His skull sits on the bottom of one of them, jaw open wide as the skull faces the ceiling. That’s the state people will find e wolf after Bull leaves the bathroom. The tiger didn’t plan to get caught with that. He is eager to show off his much bigger cock, though. L.egoshi made it even better, so B.ill has to admit…he did something right. Even if it was just dying in his nuts.

B.ill was so sick of R.iz coming around and showing him up. Just because he’s a bear and is stronger than him, he likes to go around and constantly one up him! And he always does it with that calm, smiling expression like he’s not even trying. It makes B.ill boil! And today…he plans to finally be the one to win against the bear. He’s going to prove that tigers are the strongest and he’s going to use R.iz to do that. R.iz is busy carrying some heavy equipment around, stuck doing so since L.egoshi was found as a splatter in the bathroom. It means R.iz is spending a lot of time alone, with his guard down, giving B.ill his opening. He quickly follows after the bear as he disappears backstage. They’re alone and the place is empty. So he comes up from behind R.iz quickly and shoulder checks him. R.iz cries out and topples over, landing on the ground with a thud, unable to catch himself with his full arms. R.iz groans and coughs, rolling onto his back. B.ill grabs the bear by the front of the shirt and lifts him up. The tiger himself has tosses his own shirt aside, leaving his torso fully exposed. Perfect for him to shove R.iz’s muzzle right into his pecs. R.iz’s eyes widen, and before he can react, B.ill shoved down on the back of his head and forces it completely between his pecs. Then it’s a series of shoves and flexes to start pulling the bigger carnivore deeper into him. R.iz lets out a muffled roar, trying to thrash free. His arms are pinned down as his own massive chest sinks into B.ill’s, though, and he’s stuck sitting down. He tries to stand, but it just shoved more of himself into B.ill’s chest, getting a purr and a grin from the predator. R.iz is waist deep by then, and B.ill hauls his legs up. They try to kick around, but Bull pushes down on him by the bottom of his feet. It gets a moan from the tiger as he sends those muscular legs packing up. He pushes the feet in between his pecs soon and pulls his fingers back out. His chest is massive now, bulging around tightly on the bear as he struggles. B.ill closes his eyes, grinning wide as he gropes his own bulging chest. He starts flexing roughly, getting muffled grunts out of his prey. The space is already excruciatingly tight for someone so big, and each flex is just making that work. It’s forcing what would normally be a rather sturdy person to start breaking with ease. Loud snaps and crunches ring out from B.ill’s chest as it grows more compact. R.iz roars again, thrashing and shoving around with all his might. But those roars are sounding more like screams soon and it’s music to B.ill’s ears. “That’s it,” B.ill purrs, squeezing his chest tightly. “Who’s the stronger carnivore now, huh? Tigers!” He flexes down again, finding it easier to crush more of R.iz. He’s already feeling stronger. “You’re just pec meat now, R.iz! To make the better carnivore even stronger!” Each flex of his chest makes him bigger. His body sweeps with new muscule mass and he grows a bit taller. R.iz is fading, his body being broken down and absorbed into B.ill’s. His mass is becoming the tiger’s mass, and his screams are turning into whimpers as pain fades into increasing numbness. B.ill’s pecs grow smaller and sturdier, steadily putting R.iz away. “Just like L.egoshi. You belong to the stronger carnivore. So…hurry up…and die!” B.ill flexes his chest tightly and roars. Power and strength course through him like electricity, his muscles bulging all over his body. He stinks of a thick musk now, more chest hair on his pecs and his voice somehow growing deeper. Something solid pops out of his chest and hits the floor with a clatter. It’s R.iz’s skull, drenched in tiger sweat. B.ill grins down at it, huffing and puffing. He kicks it away lazily and stops off. His pants tear as he does, giving up on trying to contain his bigger thighs. But that’s fine. He’ll just steal some of R.iz’s clothes. They are his now, after all.

L.ouis stares up at B.ill from the ground, trying to scoot back. He knew that something had happened with the tiger since he got bigger and R.iz happened to go missing. But he had been too cocky about his position in the school’s hierarchy. He didn’t think B.ill would turn on him. Now, alone with him in the dressing room, the tiger naked and hard, he realizes he was wrong. He’s grabbed by the ankle and dragged across the floor. L.ouis yells and tries to struggle free, but B.ill is far stronger than him. “I think you should go keep that dumb dog some company,” B.ill says with a deep growl. He lifts L.ouis’s leg up and shoved it right into his cock. He shivers slightly and moans out, then grabs the deer’s other foot to shove it in as well. He starts letting his cock flex and swallow the deer up, dragging his legs down. L.ouis claws at the floor, trying to struggle and yelling for help. No one hears it but the tiger, who laughs and strokes his shaft. L.ouis is slurped up to his waist quickly, starting to lift off the floor. B.ill’s cock throbs and bobs, sending more and more of the deer down. L.ouis tries to push himself out, but his hands slurp into the drooling cock lips and pins his arms down. B.ill grabs him by the antlers, already getting to L.ouis’s chest. “Don’t need these anymore.” A quick tg and the antlers crack off. L.ouis screams, but the sound is cut off by a wet slurp as his head goes down. B.ill’s nuts slosh and hang down low, reaching his knees. The tiger moans and starts to stroke himself again. “Just where you belong,” B.ill growls. “L.egoshi and R.iz at least were carnivores. But you? I’m not taking orders from *prey.*” He starts stroking himself faster, panting. His nuts flex and churn, L.ouis’s yelling quickly fading out into wet bubbling and churning. He was melting fast, his body reducing into boiling nut slop. Whether it was being an herbivore or B.ill’s body being so powerful, it didn’t matter. L.ouis was gone in no time, and B.ill is blowing his load onto the dressing rooms mirror with a moan. Deer bones come up all at once, the skeleton kept in most one piece. It strikes the mirror with a thump, being plastered against it with the thick tiger cum. B.ill’s orgasm ends after a couple of minutes, and he grins at the skeleton as he takes deep breaths. That’s the most popular guy in school dead. Now, a real man can take his place. A carnivore. A tiger. B.ill.

#v.ore #gay vore #male vore #m/m vore #mlm vore #vore prompts #male vore prompts #cock vore #pec vore #fatal vore #digestion #beastarsvore #billvore #legoshivore #rizvore #louisvore #ask

84 notes · View notes

dynamicelectricworld · 3 months ago

Text

When it comes to making your bathroom both functional and comfortable, one of the most essential elements is hot water. Whether it’s a warm shower on a cold morning or hot water for daily chores, an instant water geyser for your bathroom ensures that you have hot water available whenever you need it. At Dynamic Electric World, we offer a wide range of instant water geysers to meet your needs, combining efficiency, safety, and affordability.

In this blog, we will guide you through the benefits of installing an instant water geyser, the factors to consider when choosing one, and why Dynamic Electric World is your go-to source for high-quality water heaters.

What is an Instant Water Geyser?

An instant water geyser, also known as a tankless water heater, provides hot water immediately upon turning on the tap. Unlike traditional water heaters with storage tanks, instant geysers heat water only when needed, making them energy-efficient and quick. “instant water geyser for your bathroom”

How Does It Work?

The instant geyser heats the water as it flows through the unit using an electric heating element. This eliminates the need to store and constantly heat a tank of water, saving you energy and reducing your electricity bill.

Why Choose an Instant Water Geyser for Your Bathroom?

1. Energy Efficiency

Instant water geysers are designed to heat water only when needed. Traditional water heaters heat and store water in a tank, consuming energy even when you're not using hot water. By switching to an instant water geyser, you can significantly reduce your energy consumption, making it both eco-friendly and cost-effective.

2. Space-Saving Design

One of the best features of instant water geysers is their compact design. Unlike bulky water heaters with large storage tanks, instant water geysers are sleek and can be installed in small spaces. This is especially useful in bathrooms where space may be limited.

3. Unlimited Hot Water

With a traditional storage geyser, you may run out of hot water if the tank gets empty. However, an instant water geyser provides continuous hot water on demand, ensuring that you never have to wait for the tank to refill or reheat.

4. Quick and Convenient

As the name suggests, instant water geysers heat water quickly. This means you don’t need to wait long before you can enjoy a warm bath or wash your hands. It’s an ideal choice for people who are always on the go and need hot water fast.

5. Longer Lifespan

Instant water geysers tend to last longer than traditional storage geysers. Since they don't store water, there's less risk of mineral buildup or rust inside the unit. This extends the life of the geyser and ensures it remains in good working condition for years.

Factors to Consider When Choosing an Instant Water Geyser for Your Bathroom

1. Water Heating Capacity

The first thing to consider is the water heating capacity of the instant water geyser. Instant geysers typically come in various power ratings, usually ranging from 1 to 6 liters per minute. For bathrooms, a 3-liter capacity is ideal for a shower, while a higher capacity might be needed for bathtubs or larger families.

2. Power Consumption

Make sure to choose a geyser that strikes the right balance between power consumption and heating efficiency. Most instant water heaters come in 3kW or 4.5kW models. A higher wattage will heat the water faster, but it will also consume more electricity. Look for models with energy-saving features to minimize power consumption.

3. Safety Features

Safety is a top priority when installing any electrical appliance in your home. Look for instant water geysers that have built-in safety features such as automatic shut-off, temperature control, and anti-scalding protection. These features prevent accidents and ensure safe usage, especially in households with children or elderly people.

4. Build Quality and Durability

Investing in a high-quality geyser is essential for long-term durability. Look for models with corrosion-resistant and rust-proof materials to ensure your geyser can withstand the wear and tear of daily use. Stainless steel tanks and heat-resistant plastic casings are often preferred for longer lifespan.

5. Warranty and After-Sales Service

Always check the warranty period before purchasing any water heater. A good warranty indicates the manufacturer's confidence in the product’s durability. At Dynamic Electric World, we provide excellent after-sales support, ensuring that your instant water geyser continues to perform optimally.

Why Choose Dynamic Electric World for Your Instant Water Geyser?

At Dynamic Electric World, we take pride in offering premium-quality instant water geysers that are designed to meet the diverse needs of our customers. Here’s why you should choose us:

1. Wide Range of Products

We offer a variety of instant water geysers tailored to different requirements. Whether you need a compact model for a small bathroom or a powerful unit for a larger family, we have the perfect solution for you.

2. Quality and Reliability

Our instant water geysers are built with the highest standards of quality and durability. Every product we sell undergoes rigorous testing to ensure it delivers superior performance.

3. Affordable Pricing

We understand the importance of finding the right balance between quality and price. Our instant water geysers are competitively priced to give you excellent value for your money without compromising on features or performance.

4. Exceptional Customer Support

Our team of experts is here to help you choose the perfect instant water geyser for your home. We provide installation services and ongoing customer support to ensure your satisfaction.

5. Energy Efficiency

Our range of instant water geysers is designed to be energy-efficient, helping you save on your electricity bills while contributing to a greener planet.

Conclusion

An instant water geyser for your bathroom is an excellent investment that combines comfort, convenience, and energy savings. Whether you're looking to upgrade your current water heater or install a new one, Dynamic Electric World has a wide range of high-quality, affordable options to choose from. With our expert advice, top-notch products, and reliable after-sales support, you can enjoy endless hot water with peace of mind. If you're ready to enhance your bathroom experience, visit Dynamic Electric World today and explore our collection of instant water geysers.

#instant water geyser for bathroom

0 notes

bigmpregnm · 5 months ago

Text

Five-Star Pecs - Part 3

[Story Collection] | [Part 2] [●] [Part 4]

“Oof… Steve, calm down. Jack won’t notice. You’ll be okay. Take an Uber home, and you call the doctor from there,” Steve said as he looked at his reflection in the mirror one last time before opening the door and waddling out of Jack’s bathroom.

When Steve walked into the living room, he saw Jack’s worried and scared face looking back at him. Steve kindly smiled at Jack, but it was clear Jack knew Steve was faking. Steve had his right hand on the small of his back as he absently rubbed the side of his enormous belly, resulting in his belly sticking out farther in front of him, accentuating his ‘pregnant look’, and evidencing something was wrong.

“Jack, it was so good to see you, but I think I gotta go. I just remembered I have… hmm… this… meeting in a few minutes. I promise I’ll visit in a few days,” Steve said, but he couldn’t help but let out soft moans and groans between the words.

“What? No. Man, I know something’s wrong, and I’ve been trying to ignore it, but look at you,” Jack replied, approaching Steve, who stepped backward to prevent Jack from seeing the constant shaking in his belly. “You came here looking like... well, like you have been eating nonstop for years, and now you’re sweating, you’re panting and... you’re rubbing your belly while holding your back. If I didn’t know you’re a man, I’d say you’re enormously pregnant,” Jack added, chuckling and making Steve blush.

Before Steve could reply, some of the babies kicked him so hard that he groaned out loud and clutched his belly. The pain was so hard that, for a few seconds, Steve forgot he was in Jack’s apartment. Steve gritted his teeth in pain as a contraction started building up in his lower belly right after the babies had kicked him. The contraction was so painful that it left Steve heavily panting when it passed.

While Steve moaned and groaned, a very shocked Jack started panicking. “Steve… What’s wrong? Should I call an ambulance? Are you having a heart attack or something? Just hold on,” Jack said, running to get his phone to call 911.

“No, no. I’m fine,” Steve replied when the contraction finally ended, finally able to catch his breath. “Don’t call 911. I’m fine. I just need to relax, so I just need to go home.” Steve added, still panting.

“You’re definitely not fine. Man, I think you’re having a heart attack,” Jack said, still with his phone in hand. “You sure you don’t prefer going to the hospital instead of going home? Or... wait, didn’t you have a meeting later?”

Steve couldn’t respond because he didn’t know what else to say. He was aware that his secret was about to be discovered by Jack, but he still wanted to try to escape Jack’s apartment. However, as Steve pondered his options, he felt another contraction building up close to his groin and quickly spreading all over his belly. The sensation was different this time because an astonishing increase in the pressure on his pecs accompanied the painful contraction. Just a second later, Steve felt a relieving sensation on his pecs that he knew very well.

Without saying a word and trying his best to hide the pain of the contraction building up in his belly, he moved his hands to his pecs to discreetly press his palms against them in a fruitless attempt to contain the growing pressure within. Jack, ever observant, couldn’t help but notice the not-so-subtle gesture, getting even more concerned about his friend’s wellness. Steve noticed Jack’s stare and mustered a strained smile, soon interrupted by loud groans and moans as another contraction took over Steve’s huge belly.

Steve felt his knees weakening, but he kept his hands on his pecs, knowing that something ‘bad’ was about to happen. Steve could only groan as the contraction peaked, but additionally, he felt the milk pouring out of his nipples like geysers exploding. The milk, no longer held at bay, poured out freely as the pads covering his nipples got wet. The intense sensation made Steve stumble, making Jack run to his side to help the secretly-laboring man.

Steve felt Jack making his best effort to keep Steve on his feet, somehow managing to lead the big guy to the couch. As Steve collapsed on the couch, he felt the contraction passing, but his pecs were out of control. His hands stayed tightly pressed against his chest in an instinctive attempt to stem the tide of milk, but it was too late. The dampness spread across Steve’s shirt, even getting Jack’s shirt a bit wet when he helped Steve get on the couch.

“Dude, something is clearly wrong. I’m definitely calling 911,” Jack said when he noticed Steve’s wet shirt. “Are you melting or something?” Jack added when he noticed his own shirt was damp.

“No… uugghh… It’s just sweat. I told you I just needed to relax,�� Steve said, sinking in denial of what was happening. His contractions were getting dangerously closer to each other, and his pecs poured milk out like geysers, but he still tried to act like nothing was happening.

“Sweat? Steve… You got my shirt wet, and... look, even the couch is wet,” Jack said, sounding scared. “You’re not telling me everything, and I can’t help you if you don’t tell me. I mean, look at your belly; it’s shaking.”

“Just indigestion. I just need to go… uugghh… home!” Steve said, but another contraction hit him, making the babies kick up a storm, and his belly shook violently right before Jack’s wide-open eyes.

“If that’s indigestion, I’m the king of Mars. You better tell me what’s happening, or I’m definitely calling 911,” Jack said while Steve gritted his teeth very hard and clutched his belly.

Steve was barely able to register what Jack was saying because the contraction was way more painful than the previous ones. The babies, sensing it was almost time for them to come out, started moving even more, a chaotic dance within Steve’s belly as they moved into the proper position for the delivery. Simultaneously, a deep ache settled in Steve’s lower back, a painful indication that he was getting into active labor and that the birth of the quintuplets was inevitable.

As the contraction peaked and Steve felt immense pressure on his hips, way worse than the one he previously experienced on his pecs, he moved his hands to rub big circles on the sides of his contracting belly. Without his hands applying some pressure over his nipples, the milk poured out without restraint, going down Steve’s body like rivers, coating his clothes and the couch, and finally falling on the ground to form puddles of white liquid around Steve’s feet.

When the peak of the contraction ended, Steve was able to breathe again, but the pain and the pressure didn’t go away, making him realize that he had no chance to make it back to his apartment before the delivery of his babies. While gasping for air, he looked into Jack’s eyes and noticed his friend was worried. Jack was right next to Steve, trying to understand what was happening or at least be sure that Steve wasn’t dying.

“Okay, Jack, I think you need to know the truth... uugghh… ohh, please, stop moving so much,” Steve said and groaned, rubbing his big laboring belly frantically. “I’ll need your help. I’m not okay, but I don’t want you to call an ambulance. I can’t go to the hospital. I-I really need you to keep a secret.” Steve added right before another contraction hit him.

“Sure. I can help, but... I really need to know what’s happening,” Jack said, getting closer to Steve on the couch and pressing and placing his hand on Steve’s shoulder to show him some support. “I mean, you ruined my couch, so I think you owe me an explanation anyway,” Jack added, making Steve chuckle.

“I promise I’ll get you a new one, but... uugghh... now... I-I need your help,” Steve managed to say between groans and moans of discomfort. “Jack, I’m pregnant. I can’t tell you how because… hmm… the doctor just said it’s a… uuh… it’s a medical miracle. Ohh fuck… I’m having quintuplets and... and... I’m in labor... aagh,” Steve managed to say, and another contraction hit him, making tears pour down his cheeks.

Jack’s eyes widened in shock, disbelief, and concern. ”What?!” Jack exclaimed while Steve groaned in pain. Jack didn’t know what to say or what to do as the weight of the revelation settled into his confused mind.

“About nine months ago, at a party, I met a random guy, and... things got out of hand. I barely knew him,” Steve began, still panting and gasping for air between contractions. “We didn’t use protection. I didn’t think it was necessary, and here I am. I’ll explain more later, but now I need you to help me get these babies out of... out of me!” Steve said and started screaming in pain, absentmindedly pulling up the hem of his T-shirt to reveal his enormous, tight-looking belly, where his babies moved so much that large bumps were clearly seen all over his skin.

Jack was in shock, looking at Steve’s bare belly. A tiny part of Jack thought Steve had gone crazy and that it was all part of his imagination. He knew Steve was a man because they had seen each other dicks in gym lockers, but a man couldn’t get pregnant, or at least it should be impossible. Even though it was hard to believe, Jack couldn’t deny Steve looked pregnant—super pregnant, to be honest. Jack looked at Steve’s massive pecs, and that also made sense somehow. The white liquid was milk, but the amount of milk coming out of Steve’s pecs was simply ridiculous.

“But why are you so big? I mean, even if you’re pregnant and even if you’re having quintuplets, man, look at you,” Jack said, slowly reaching for Steve’s enormous belly. “And… your pecs… or boobs? Tits? I don’t even know what to call them.”

“Pecs is fine. And I don’t know why I’m so big. I’m just a fertile, lucky guy,” Steve said, chuckling between groans. He had to take breaks to let the painful contractions pass, but he was getting worried about how often they were coming. “The babies are huge, and my pecs constantly overflow with milk. I… just need your help to deliver them, Jack.” Steve, vulnerable and exposed, looked at his friend with pleading eyes.

Jack’s expression was a blend of surprise and concern, taking a moment to absorb the unbelievable situation Steve was describing. Jack finally got the courage to place his hand on Steve’s belly, feeling the babies move and kick, finally convincing him that Steve was telling the truth. Jack was still confused, but he knew Steve needed help. He pondered his options for a while and realized he had to help his friend. Due to the impending arrival of the babies, Jack’s mind was running miles a second while Steve continued groaning as contractions were one on top of the other, and the pressure in his pelvis was unbearable.

“Okay, Steve, we’ll get through this together. I know nothing about delivering babies, but I’ve seen TV shows, and I guess it can’t be that difficult, right? They just... come out on their own, right?” Jack said, gently caressing Steve’s belly.

Steve chuckled and clutched his belly in pain. “Uugghh… I don’t think it’s that easy, but... I think I can do it,” Steve said, trying to adjust his body into a more comfortable position on the couch.

“Let me help you. I think we need to take you to a more comfortable position, and I think we need to remove these clothes,” Jack said, reaching for Steve’s T-shirt rolled up to right below his enormous pecs.

With his chest still in overdrive and making a mess in Jack’s living room, Steve felt some embarrassment as Jack pulled his T-shirt up and revealed his massive barely-contained pecs in the ’sports bra.’ Even though it was awkward, the urgency in the situation eclipsed any sense of self-consciousness in Steve’s mind, allowing Jack to remove the damped T-shirt. Jack couldn’t hide his surprise when he saw Steve’s pecs looking like they would burst out of the ‘sports bra,’ but he tried to act as cool as possible not to embarrass Steve even more.

Jack reached for the ‘sports bra’ to remove it, but a hesitant Steve tried to stop him. However, after a few seconds of tension, Steve allowed Jack to pull the hem of the ‘sports bra,’ finally revealing his engorged nipples and letting his rounded pecs expand to their true size. Without the restraints of the ‘sports bra,’ Steve’s pecs didn’t only marvel Jack because of their size and shape but also because the nipples shot milk out like geysers while they throbbed in sync with the contractions. It was a true sight to behold.

“Now, I’ll take you to my room. You better get me a new mattress after this, but I think that’s our best option,” Jack said, making Steve chuckle as they got in position to get Steve off the couch.

“I’ll buy you a new apartment if you want, but just... take these kids out of me,” Steve said, attempting to rise, but the heaviness of his pregnant form made the simple act of standing an impossible task.

The weight of Steve’s body felt like an anchor, tethering him to the couch. The movements within his belly made it all worse, but a very concerned Jack took charge when he noticed Steve’s struggle. Jack was a strong guy after many years of devoted fitness life, but even with his well-developed physique, he groaned and grunted while trying to pull Steve up from the couch. Everything was complicated, but somehow, Jack managed to get Steve on his feet, leaving both of them panting in exhaustion.

“I don’t want to be mean, but you’re like a beached whale; you knew that?” Jack said, aiding Steve to stay on his feet while more contractions came. “Whales are mammals, so I think that’s accurate,” Jack added, and Steve chuckled.

As awkward as Jack’s comparison sounded, Steve knew he wasn’t far from what Jack was referring to, so he couldn’t say anything about it. The journey to Jack’s bedroom became a slow, deliberate dance. Steve’s face contorted with the effort, feeling incredibly grateful for Jack’s support. With each step, the signs of impending delivery became more evident. Steve’s breaths were short, and the babies within him seemed to sense the urgency of the situation, rolling into position and forcing Steve to spread his legs to get more comfortable.

By the time they walked into Jack’s room, Steve could barely take any steps because the first baby was entering his birth canal. Steve’s hips ached more than ever before, and the focus of his pain was quickly moving from his contracting belly to his hips and back.

“Jack, the baby… is coming out. I’ve seen videos; I think he’s in my birth canal now,” Steve managed to say as they approached Jack’s bed very slowly.

“You’re what? Wait… How are these babies coming out?” Jack asked but immediately looked at Steve’s ass and opened his eyes in shock. “Well, that was to be expected, I guess; at least they’re not coming out of your dick,” Jack added.

“I need you to take my pants off. I can’t do it myself,” Steve asked when they were right next to Jack’s bed.

“Oh, sure. I-I can do that. Give me a second,” Jack replied and leaned to take off Steve’s sweatpants and jockstrap, revealing the pregnant guy’s massive ass, leaving Jack in shock for a few seconds. “Wow… that’s an ass. Dude… I noticed it was huge earlier, but... damn, so... nice,” Jack added, absentmindedly grabbing Steve’s ass cheek, making him groan.

Once Steve was fully naked, Jack helped him into the bed, and as his body sank onto the mattress, a long sigh of relief escaped his lips. Steve’s body was still going wild. His pecs were still shooting milk like geysers and had left a trail of milk from Jack’s living room to the bedroom. His belly was still shaking violently because of the contractions, and the babies were rolling and kicking up a storm inside. His hips were sore, and his hole hurt him a lot as the baby moved lower into the birth canal. And, on top of it all, Steve’s big dick was painfully hard. Everything was overwhelming, but he knew it was all part of the process.

Steve slowly moved his heavy body into a proper position for the birth, and without even trying, he felt his hole squirming and worked to move the baby closer to the entrance of his hole. He only groaned and softly pushed, trying to find the moment and the right way to do it.

“Wait, I’m not an expert, but... Your water has to break before you start pushing, right? And shouldn’t you get checked to see if you’ve dilated enough? I’ve seen that on TV shows,” Jack added, looking very attentive between Steve’s legs.

“My water broke at your door when I arrived. I’m sorry,” Steve said while he felt like his body was tearing in half because of the huge baby slowly coming out of his hole. “And… I just feel ready to push. These babies are coming out now!”

“What? And what should I do? Let me... watch some videos on Youtube,” Jack said, panicking, but was interrupted by Steve’s loud groaning as the entrance of his hole opened, and Jack could see a bunch of hair deep into his friend’s hole. “Fuck! What’s that?”

“Just look for clean towels and scissors and boil some water. I… uugghh… I think this baby is in a rush to come out,” Steve shouted, rubbing his swollen belly and feeling the contours of life within. All along, his pecs continued shooting milk like never before, and even then, they felt fuller and plumper than ever. He had been feeling ready to burst for a few weeks, and now he was truly bursting right in front of a shocked Jack.

...

#mpreg #mpreg story

42 notes · View notes