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eaturheartout2021 · 2 months ago

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Dominate Me

Second part to this

Summary: After a mission, reader is forced to confront Ghost about their little incident. Things get heated.

CW: knifeplay, mild cunnilingus, P in V, mild gagging, unprotected sex, man handling, possessiveness

Simon “Ghost” Riley x female!reader

Word count: 1.9K

It has been two weeks since the little stunt Ghost had pulled in the briefing room and he hadn’t mentioned it since. Neither had you. Thinking back to the heated look in his eyes as you came on just his boot alone made your core flare with desire but you pushed it down.

Gaz lightly bumped your shoulder with his shaking you out of your stupor.

“I’ll never understand how you can look at a bunch of zero’s and one’s to make out words. Bloody brilliant stuff.” He laughed holding a heavy tree limb for you to slip under. You returned the gesture and silently followed behind the trio.

“I’m not gonna lie, after the third day I couldn’t tell any numbers apart. I’m just glad it’s over. I need a shower and about 12 hours of sleep.” You groaned at the thought alone.

“Ye be lucky to get 3 or 4. Ye’re first watch lass.” Soap called back, adjusting his gear smiling wickedly at you.

You simply stuck up both middle fingers.

The safe house was nothing more than a two roomed shed with an outhouse across the way. No running water, no electricity, but it had a roof and four rolled up sleeping mats in the corner beside the fireplace. There was chopped wood neatly piled on top of each other and four ration packs along with bottled water. Laswell deserved the best head of her life for the way she treated you and the team, and you made a mental note to tell her wife.

Soap and Gaz went outside to run a perimeter while you and Ghost were on weapon detail. The unavoidable had come.

Ghost immediately began stripping himself of his gear, taking the velcro straps and ripping harshly causing you to jump slightly at his sudden roughness. The vest thudded to the floor along with his tac belt and coms. Soon, leaving him in just an obscenity tight-fitting long sleeve tan shirt, his mask, and jeans.

“You were reckless. Ya know that?” He was angry, livid actually. His hands were drawn into fists at his sides while he peered down where you sat on the floor reloading a pistol clip.

“How was I reckless? I got the job done didn’t I? We were running out of time and we needed that data file.” You shrugged your shoulders avoiding his gazed and continued to refill the half empty clip.

“You tripped the alarms system. I had to kill-off 6 of Makarov’s men just to get to ya.” He closed the space between you, his hulking frame shadowed yours.

“I didn’t even want to think about what they would’ve done if they had got to ya before I did.” You had to look away from his face, his eyes full of genuine fear. It made your heart twang with guilt.

You glanced down to your stilled hands holding the now full clip and just beyond stood his boots. Those damned boots. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you looked anywhere but his feet and apparently he caught on. He took the smallest step forward and slid his foot under your knee and lifted.

He pulled your leg to the side making you sit with one leg out straight and the other bent up. Your breath was racing out of you as you glanced up at him, up his long muscular leg, up his strong thick thighs, to his now very prominent bulge sporting in the front of his pants, to his heaving chest, all the way up to his blown out eyes that were practically undressing you.

“I believe ya need to be punished for making such a fuss.” His voice was thick with lust, it was almost suffocating. He knelt down and picked you up, slung you over his shoulder and gave your ass a quick and hard slap. You let out a little gasp and tried to wriggle out of his grip causing two more to land right onto the first.

“Stay still.” It was an order. One you’d quickly obey. He hauled you into one of the two rooms the small space had to offer and quickly unrolled the mats and placed you down. Without warning, he flipped you over, stomach down. The metallic scrape of a knife opening was all you heard before you began to panic. Looking back, Ghost softly pushed your face back down covering your eyes.

“Do ya trust me?” His voice caressed your skin causing goosebumps to leaving in their wake.

“With my life.” It was a whisper but it was all he needed before he used his knife to slice up the leg of your pants leaving your delicate skin intact. You let out a shaky breath trying to settle yourself when the cold blade touched your lower back.

Your pants were merely hanging by a thread, leaving you in just your underwear, a pretty pastel blue. A deep groan sounded behind you as a hand cupped your cheeks and squeezed hard.

“Although these are absolutely stunnin love. They have to go.” The knife tugged at the hem of your underwear before an audible rip met your ears. Your ass was completely exposed to him, his hands cupping each mound roughly and spreading ever so slightly just to see how soaked you were from absolutely nothing at all.

He took your soaked, ripped underwear and tucked them into his pocket causing you to let out a sharp gasp.

“You are not keeping those!” His eyes crinkled up in a smirk.

“I suppose you’re gonna stop me?” He took a free hand a slid it between your legs, dipping into your soaked folds. You let out a soft moan, letting your head fall back onto the mat hips rolling into his fingers.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” Smug bastard.

He let your rolling hips send a finger to your entrance and delving deep. A sharp gasp left your lips and his guttural groan mirrored yours.

“So tight f’me. Hadn’t had anyone to keep ya open?” He quickly added a second all the way down to the knuckle. You silently shook your head, unable to form words. Ghost stopped and took away his hand, you shot up your head looking back at him just as he landed yet another quick smack to your ass.

“Words, love. Use ‘em.” Your head was fuzzy with pleasure, skin buzzing with anticipation.

“No sir.” It was hardly a whisper. The desperation you felt for Ghost to place his fingers back inside you was overwhelming. The absentmindedly rocking your hips made caused Ghost to glance down, slowly trace your puffy slicked lips and tease. A high whine built in the back out your throat but Ghost grabbed the back of your neck causing you to stop immediately.

“Wouldn’t want the lads to hear us would ya? Be a good girl f’me yeah?” He held a single finger over his covered lips while his other hand went back to your folds and immediately shoving their way inside. He made way for three digits and worked his way through you like no man has ever before.

You had to bite your forearm just to keep quiet like he asked, small quiet whimpers escaped every now and then while his whispered praises caressed your senses.

“Sound so sweet like this. Gonna come on fingers lovie?” He was slightly hovering over you at this point. You were gasping, rutting back on his fingers, down onto the mat below to get friction to your abandoned clit. He knew you were so close.

Right as you were about to tumble over the edge, he pulled away from you, completely stepping away.

“What the actual fuck Ghost?” Your eyes were brimming with tears, with frustration. You rolled onto your back to face him and he was slowly unbuckling his belt and undoing his zipper.

“Only way you’re coming is on my cock. Understood? ‘M not gonna be easy. This is your punishment doll.” Without another word he slipped out his cock and your mouth went dry. He was absolutely massive, you were kind of concerned how it was all going to fit honestly.

Ghost grabbed your leg and slid you down to meet him causing a small yelp to make its way out. He looked down at you as he slid the mask up just enough to expose his chin and lips as he started to kiss down from your stomach, to your hip bones, down to your sopping lips where he licked a fat stripe up and sucking briefly onto your clit. A strangled moan filled your lungs and your hands went flying to grab the fabric of his mask.

You rolled your hips deeply into him and he took everything you gave him. When he pulled away his chin glistened with your slick and a wicked grin flashed across his scared lips.

He reached down to fist his neglected and weeping cock. He lined up the swollen tip with your entrance and without any warning, grabbed both your hips and thrusted his way in. Immediately he set a brutal pace, folding your legs over his shoulders to get even deeper inside.

You were falling apart. Gasping, moaning, whining all the while Ghost abused your insides relentlessly. He looked down at you and groaned, quickly fishing into his pocket to pull out your ruined underwear before shoving them into your mouth.

“I said quiet.” His voice was rough and blissed out. His hips rolling in constant waves meeting your hips with obscene squelches. You weren’t going to last another second. You grabbed onto his arms rocked into his thrusts.

That’s when he bent you in half, pulling your underwear from your mouth and connecting his mouth with yours. The new angle had his cock hitting spots inside you that you never knew existed. He grabbed a handful of your hair and tugged causing your to look at him.

“No one else. Ever again.” His thrusts started to become more aggressive, deeper. “Only f’me. Say it.”

“S’yours! S’yours!” You cried as you came the hardest you ever have in your life. Tears flowing out of the corners of your eyes as he connected his forehead with yours and thrusted twice more and came deeply with an animalistic roar.

He road out his high before he slowly stopped and rolled to the side of you. He didn’t say a word as he pulled you close and cradled your head to his chest. You wrapped your legs with his and settled into a comfortable silence.

“Y’really scared me. Don’t do stupid shit like that again. M’ serious.” He whispered and you knew he meant it. You nodded your head and was about to apologize when a soft knock came from the door outside.

“Is it safe ta come awa in?” Soap asked hesitantly. You looked at Ghost in mortification, face flushing white.

“No, Johnny.” Ghost looked down at you a smiled wickedly.

“You knew they were outside?” You sat up grabbing the scraps of your shredded pants to try and cover yourself. Ghost just shrugged and tucked his arms under his head and closed his eyes.

“Lt, we’ll give you a few to get put together. C’mon Tav.” Gaz said and their snickering giggles faded as they walked away from the door.

“Price is going to kill us.” You said as you laid back down beside Ghost who pulled you back close beside him.

“Probably. Only because you still never turned in those briefing notes he asked for.” He smiled as you cursed loudly and threw your hands into the air.

This was soooo much fun to write!! I really hope you guys love part 2 as much as I do! As always my requests are open so feel free to send me any ideas you have and I’ll try to make them happen! I really hope you enjoyed ❤️

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley #simon ghost riley cod #call of duty mwii #cod mwii #cod #cod mw2 #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost smut

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firstknightvulion · 7 months ago

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Wyll and Astarion sit in camp, chatting while eating. Gale approaches them awkwardly and even more awkwardly he sits down next to them. A loud sigh leaves the wizards lips.

Gale: Alright, no inquiries. I need you to kill me.

Wyll: Wat.

Astarion: Done.

From seemingly nowhere, Astarion pulls out a crossbow. He points it at Gale’s face and pulls the trigger. At the same time, Wyll thrusts his hand out and pushes the crossbow up. The bolt flys half an inch above Gale’s head. He doesn’t even flinch.

Wyll: Apologies, but I must ask: why?

Astarion: *in the process of reloading the crossbow* That’s rude. He said no questions. Why should we pry?

Wyll: I need more than a request to end a friend’s life.

Astarion: Good thing then that I see him as an acquaintance.

Astarion takes aim again and pulls the trigger. Once again, Wyll interferes. He pushes the crossbow to side as the mechanism fires. The bolt this time flies to side, almost grazing Gale’s cheek. Still, Gale doesn’t even acknowledge it.

Gale: …alright, I suppose you should know.

Wyll and Astarion stop wrestling over the crossbow and look at Gale.

Gale: I will try to be as reticent as possible. I was…having a rather profound conversation with Tav. And I thought it was going…in a direction. A physical one. An intimately physical one.

Wyll and Astarion nod.

Gale: Well, the prospect made me…excited. Very excited. And it had been a…time since my last encounter of such a nature.

Wyll and Astarion are not blinking.

Gale: The conversation was going well. Very well. Too well, it seems. I was in such a state, and then…Tav touched my shoulder. And I was very excited, as you recall and I…I…my wand went off in my trousers.

Wyll: *restraining himself* Pardon…?

Gale: My dragon…breathed fire before I was ready…

Astarion: *losing the battle to restrain himself* Would you…be more clear?

Gale: I jizzed my pants.

Wyll snorts. Astarion guffaws. It is several moments before the pair can control themselves again. Gale sits silently, staring blankly ahead as they laugh.

Wyll: Apologies. Apologies. I *snort* I don’t mean to laugh.

Astarion: I shall never again be able to look you in the eye.

Gale: Now, you understand.

Wyll: Does…does Tav know?

Gale: I made a noise and excused myself. I’m not sure.

From the other side of camp, Karlach roars with laughter.

Astarion: Karlach knows.

Wyll has to wrestle the crossbow out of Gale’s hands.

I’m sorry, I thought of this, laughed and now y’all have to deal with it.

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darylslittlebitch · 1 month ago

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twd characters asking fem!reader to be their partner

characters: daryl, rick, negan, carl, glenn and maggie.

writer's note: yooo, this one hit different, i ain't even gonna lie. writing all these twd characters confessing had me feeling some type of way, but carl’s??? nah, that one wrecked me. like, i’m straight-up devastated because he’ll never get to ask again… bruh, i’m in shambles. let me know which one was y’all’s fave, but if you say anything other than carl’s, i’m side-eyeing you. hard. anyways, request are open ;)

daryl

You walked cautiously among the trees, your rifle slung over your shoulder and your gaze alert for any threats. The sun filtered through the treetops, casting long shadows over the leaf-covered ground. Daryl was a few meters ahead, his crossbow ready in case anything appeared.

The sound of a branch snapping in the distance made both of you stop. Daryl raised his hand in a silent signal, and you followed his gaze to a small movement in the bushes. His expression hardened as he spotted his target: a plump gray squirrel, moving nimbly between the low branches.

Without wasting time, Daryl lifted his crossbow and aimed with precision. His finger squeezed the trigger, but the squirrel, as if mocking him, moved at the last second, causing the bolt to embed itself in the tree trunk. He cursed under his breath and quickly reloaded.

“Damn fast little thing,” he muttered, aiming again. He fired once more, and once again, he missed by mere inches.

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. It was too funny to see this rugged, manly survivalist being outwitted by a tiny squirrel.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the best hunter?” you teased with a smirk.

Daryl huffed, keeping his eyes locked on the squirrel, which was now scurrying up the thickest trunk. He clenched his jaw, clearly frustrated, but unwilling to give up.

You knew he really wanted that squirrel. Maybe the idea of eating it was unappealing to you, but for Daryl, any kind of meat was a blessing. Sighing, you rolled your eyes before setting your rifle down and shrugging off your jacket.

“Let me do it,” you said with determination. The things you did for this man.

Daryl frowned, looking at you with disbelief. “What are you gonna do?”

Without answering, you approached the tree and started climbing with ease. You had climbed many times before when the world was still normal, and the skill had never left you. Your hands found holds in the bark, your feet pressed against the trunk’s crevices, and within seconds, you were at the same height as the squirrel. It stared at you with its small black eyes, assessing whether you were a real threat.

Daryl watched from below, arms crossed, a mix of skepticism and curiosity on his face.

When the squirrel tried to climb higher, you reacted swiftly. With an agile movement, you leaped onto the nearest branch and, with precise timing, managed to catch the animal in your hands. The little creature struggled, snapping its tiny teeth at the air and trying to scratch you, but you had experience handling live prey. With a quick twist of your wrists, you snapped its neck, feeling its body go limp in your hands. You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling a pang of guilt. It always surprised you how much easier it was for you to kill a walker—or even a person—than an animal.

“Watch out!” you called before tossing the squirrel down to Daryl.

He reacted quickly, catching it in the air with both hands. When he looked at the lifeless animal in his grasp, his expression shifted from surprise to admiration.

“Well, damn… Not bad,” he muttered, looking up at you.

You grinned triumphantly, but as you tried to climb down, your foot slipped on the damp bark. You had no time to react. You felt the air rush past your face as you fell, and in the blink of an eye, you landed on something—or rather, on someone.

Daryl let out a grunt as your weight knocked him to the ground. His back hit the earth hard, and you ended up sprawled on top of him, your hands planted on his chest, your legs straddling his waist.

For a moment, there was complete silence. Your eyes met his, both of you breathing heavily from the shock. You could feel his chest rising and falling beneath your palms, his warmth seeping through the fabric of his shirt.

And then, you started laughing. You couldn’t help it. The moment, the fall, Daryl’s expression—it was all too funny. Your laughter echoed through the forest, a rare, genuine sound in these dark times.

Daryl stared at you intently. Something inside him clicked in that instant. It wasn’t just your strength, your survival skills, or your sharp wit that drew him to you. It was your laughter, your spirit—the way you made him feel like, despite everything they had been through, there was still something good left in this world.

“You gotta stop throwin’ yourself at me, woman,” he muttered in his usual gruff tone.

You smiled, still on top of him. “Oh, come on. Don’t complain. I got you your dinner, didn’t I?”

He let out a short huff, shaking his head. His hands, which had been resting at his sides, hesitated before moving to settle on your hips. It wasn’t a rough or possessive gesture—more like a silent confirmation.

“You know…” Daryl paused, as if debating whether to say what was on his mind. Finally, he sighed and muttered, “You should be my girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“What?” you asked, completely taken aback. Out of all the things Daryl Dixon could have said, this was the last thing you expected.

Daryl looked away for a second, uncomfortable, but then he met your gaze again with a bit more certainty.

“I’m sayin’ you should be my girl,” he repeated, firmer this time. “I dunno how the hell you do it, but… I like havin’ you around. I like hearin’ you laugh. I like that you can do this”—he lifted the squirrel in one hand—“without even flinchin’. I like that you’re you.”

For the first time, you saw Daryl Dixon nervous. He wasn’t the type to talk about his feelings, but here he was, confessing something that words could barely contain.

A smile crept onto your lips. “Aw, if you wanted to ask me out, you could’ve done it sooner. I didn’t know you were so crazy about me.”

Daryl scoffed. “Shut up.”

You laughed again and, without hesitation, leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before whispering:

“Alright, Dixon. I’ll be your girl.”

The barely noticeable flush on his cheeks was proof that, for the first time in a long while, Daryl Dixon had found something—someone—worth sticking around for.

rick

The community in Alexandria was calm, with some residents finishing up their tasks for the day. You walked through the cobbled streets with a weapon and a couple of knives secured at your belt. You were always on alert, even in a place that was supposed to be safe.

Since you arrived, you had found your purpose in something more than just surviving. Carl.

Rick’s son reminded you of someone you had lost a long time ago: your little brother. It was a wound that still hurt, an invisible scar that never truly faded. Maybe that’s why you became so close to Carl, teaching him all sorts of things, looking after him, making sure he was okay. You had come to see him almost as a brother, and in reality, Carl saw you as something more too: a maternal figure. You both filled the emotional gaps in each other’s lives, though that didn’t mean your bond wasn’t real.

And without you realizing it, Rick had noticed that too.

The two of you had been in this game of glances, subtle touches, conversations that lasted longer than necessary. There was something between you, something neither of you had fully admitted, but it was there.

But that day wasn’t quiet.

Shouts echoed from the main house. Rick’s deep voice rang with authority, but Carl’s response was just as fierce. From the garden, you and Michonne exchanged a concerned look. It wasn’t unusual for father and son to argue, but this time it seemed more intense.

"I'm going to see what’s going on," you said, setting your weapon down on the table before heading toward the house.

Michonne nodded, knowing that if anyone could calm Carl, it was you.

You climbed the stairs quickly, and as you reached the hallway, you found Carl’s door slightly ajar. From there, you could see Rick with a frown, hands on his hips, jaw tense. Carl, on the other hand, had his fists clenched and his eyes filled with fury.

"You don’t understand anything, Dad! You always think you're right!" Carl shouted.

"It’s not about being right, it’s about you listening, Carl! I’m not going to risk you!"

"I'm not a kid, I can handle myself."

"Not after what happened with the Saviors. Not while I’m still breathing."

Carl scoffed and looked away, visibly frustrated. You couldn’t let the argument escalate further, so you stepped in.

"Alright, that’s enough, both of you," you said as you entered the room.

Rick turned his head toward you, his expression still hard, but his eyes revealed something else—exhaustion, concern. Carl, however, looked ready to keep arguing.

"Carl, come here," you said gently, motioning for him.

He hesitated but eventually obeyed. You guided him to the bed and sat beside him. Rick remained by the door, watching.

"Listen, I know you want to prove to your dad that you can handle yourself," you said calmly, "and I know you can. You’re strong, stronger than you should be at your age… but Rick just wants to protect you. Not because he doesn’t trust you, but because he loves you."

Carl huffed, still frustrated.

"I’m not a kid."

You smiled fondly and ruffled his hair, making him groan.

"No, you’re not. But to him, you’ll always be a little bit of one. That’s just how parents are, you know?" You lowered your voice slightly. "My brother used to say the same thing when I was too overprotective."

Carl turned to you, his anger softening slightly.

"Your brother?"

You nodded.

"He was younger than me… and I always made sure he was safe. When all of this started, I never left him alone for a second, never let him take any risks. Sometimes he hated me for it, thought I didn’t trust him… but the truth was, I just didn’t want to lose him."

Silence filled the room. Carl lowered his gaze, understanding your words.

"What happened to him?" he asked quietly.

You swallowed hard.

"I couldn’t save him."

Carl didn’t say anything else, but his expression showed that he understood the point. His shoulders relaxed, and the hardness in his face faded.

"You're right," he admitted after a moment.

You smiled and gave him a light push on the shoulder.

"I’m always right."

He let out a small smile.

"Get some rest, okay?"

Carl nodded and lay back on his bed. You ruffled his hair once more before standing up and leaving the room, closing the door softly behind you.

When you turned, you found Rick still in the hallway, watching you with an expression hard to decipher. You said nothing, simply walking down the stairs, with him following closely behind.

When you reached the living room, Rick ran a hand down his face and sighed heavily.

"Thank you… for that."

You shrugged.

"You don’t have to thank me. I don’t like seeing him fight with you."

Rick looked at you intently, and for the first time, you felt like he wasn’t trying to hide what he really thought.

"You’re good with him," he said in a low voice. "Too good."

You shrugged again.

"I just understand him."

Rick shook his head.

"No… it’s not just that. You do more for him than anyone else would. And not just for him—for me too. You’re always there, supporting me, making sure Carl and I are okay."

You bit your lip, feeling slightly overwhelmed by so much sincerity at once.

"Well… someone has to."

Rick gave a faint smile and stepped closer. His presence was warm, strong, reassuring.

"You’d be a great mother."

Your heart skipped a beat.

You blinked, stunned.

"What?"

He held your gaze.

"I said you’d be a great mother. And I’d like… for you to be the mother of my son. Well, of my kids, because Judith loves you too."

Your breath caught for a second.

Rick didn’t beat around the bush. He didn’t say, "I like you," he didn’t say, "I want to try." He just said it outright.

Your throat felt dry.

"Rick…"

He took another step, so close now that you could feel his breath against your skin.

"I don’t want to keep dancing around this. I don’t want to keep pretending this isn’t happening. I want you with me, officially. I want you to be part of my family."

You looked into his eyes, feeling the air between you grow thick with that same electricity that always left you breathless.

And then, with a shaky smile, you nodded.

"I want that too."

Rick exhaled, as if he had been holding his breath, and before you could say another word, he grabbed you by the waist and kissed you.

negan

You walked firmly through the hallways, ignoring the looks Negan’s men gave you. Some with respect, others with caution. You didn’t care. You weren’t there to make friends.

You were the leader of your own group, a woman who had survived hell without needing anyone. When the world had gone to shit, you learned that mercy was a weakness. You learned to slit throats without blinking, to crush skulls with your own hands if necessary.

You had met Negan in an ambush. His men and yours had torn each other apart in a hail of bullets, blood covering the ground like rain. It was a miracle that neither of you had died that night. But instead of continuing the slaughter, you both realized that fighting each other was a waste. Two forces as brutal as yours shouldn’t destroy each other—they should unite.

And so you did.

But there was no trust. No friendship. Only a survival pact.

Although, of course, Negan always made sure to cross the line.

You reached his office door and walked in without knocking.

Negan was sitting behind his desk, Lucille resting against the table and a glass of whiskey in his hand. When he saw you, he smirked in that annoyingly arrogant way that always managed to irritate you.

“Well, well, well… look who decided to pay me a visit. Couldn’t stay away from me, sweetheart?”

You slammed the door shut and walked up to his desk.

“Shut up and listen,” you snapped. “We have a problem with Rick and his group. They’ve been sniffing around our supply routes, and they’ve stolen enough to start pissing me off.”

Negan raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his whiskey.

“Damn, so aggressive. I love it when you get like this.”

You ignored his comment and continued.

“If that son of a bitch doesn’t stop, I’ll handle it myself.”

Negan leaned his elbows on the desk, looking at you with amusement.

“And what are you gonna do, sweetheart? Give him a nice little lecture on good manners?”

You smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly one.

“I’m going to slit his throat like a fucking pig and watch his blood spill onto the ground while his son watches,” you said with unsettling calm. “I’ll gut him with my bare hands and then hang his corpse at Alexandria’s gates so everyone understands what happens when they fuck with me.”

Negan let out a low whistle.

“Damn… that’s exactly the kind of energy that drives me wild.”

He gave you that sly grin, the one he used when he felt especially charming.

“You know, sweetheart, every time I see you, I get more convinced that you’re the perfect woman for me.”

You shot him a warning look.

“Negan, I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.”

He got up from his chair and walked around the desk until he was right in front of you.

“Oh, but I am,” he murmured, using that deep voice he always used when he was trying to seduce you. “And let me tell you something, gorgeous… I’ve seen a lot of things in this world. I’ve met a lot of people—some strong, some boring as hell. But you… you’re a fucking goddess among mortals.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Is that supposed to be romantic?”

Negan smirked.

“And it’s not just about how you look—though, damn, don’t get me started on that because I could spend hours describing it—but it’s because you’ve got balls, sweetheart. You’re no sheep, you don’t take orders from anyone. You’re a damn beast. And that drives me crazy.”

His face was so close to yours that you could feel his warm breath against your skin.

“Negan…” you started in warning, but he didn’t let you finish.

In one swift move, he grabbed your face and kissed you.

But this wasn’t a tender kiss, nor a hesitant one. It was possessive, raw, full of intensity. Negan didn’t ask for permission—he didn’t hesitate. His lips moved over yours with hunger, as if he wanted to devour you whole.

And you didn’t stop him.

You pushed him against the desk, letting your body speak for you. His hands slid down to your ass, squeezing firmly. The desk creaked under the weight of both of you as the kiss deepened, growing more desperate, hotter.

When you finally pulled apart to catch your breath, Negan looked at you with those dark eyes filled with desire.

“Damn, sweetheart… I think I just made a decision.”

You raised an eyebrow, still breathing heavily.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

Negan smirked, running his hands down your back.

“That it’s about time we made this official. What do you say, sweetheart? Wanna be the queen of this fucked-up kingdom?”

You stared at him. You knew this wasn’t just a game for him. Negan could be an arrogant bastard, but he never said things he didn’t mean.

And the worst part was that deep down, you wanted this too.

“That sounds interesting, but first I want to assess what benefits I can get from this relationship,” you replied playfully, letting your hands roam over his abdomen, dangerously close to his lower half.

Negan let out a triumphant laugh, enjoying you and the moment.

“Then let’s run a quality check, shall we?”

And this time, when he kissed you again, there were no more doubts. Only fire, desire, and the certainty that together, you would be unstoppable.

carl

The Alexandria infirmary had a distinctive scent of alcohol and medicinal herbs, an aroma that had become part of your daily life. Ever since your father, an experienced doctor before the world collapsed, taught you everything he knew, you had taken on the responsibility of caring for the wounded in the community. And while you had hardened in many ways, when it came to healing others, you still had a delicate touch—something Carl had noticed from the very first day.

He was sitting on the examination table, silently watching you as you pulled out a small jar of ointment. The left side of his face was covered in bandages, hiding the wound that had changed his life forever. Since he was shot in the eye and fell into a coma, you had been the one who stayed by his side, caring for him tirelessly for weeks.

"I'm going to apply this so the scar heals better," you explained as you leaned in toward him. "It might sting a little."

Carl nodded without saying a word. Ever since he woke up, his attitude had changed. He was still strong, determined… but there was a shadow of insecurity in his gaze.

You took a bit of the ointment on your fingers and, with extreme care, began applying it to the reddened skin around his wound. You noticed how he clenched his jaw, but you didn’t stop.

He never looked away from you.

"Carl," you called softly, noticing his silence. "What are you thinking about?"

He looked away for a moment, his only functional hand gripping the fabric of his pants.

"I look like a freak," he finally muttered.

You froze.

"What?"

Carl lowered his gaze.

"Before… I was afraid of people seeing me as weak. Now I can’t even look at myself in the mirror without thinking I look terrifying."

You let out a sigh and set the ointment aside. Without a second thought, you took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

"Don’t ever say that again," you said firmly.

Carl swallowed hard.

"You don’t understand…"

"I understand more than you think," you interrupted him. "Having scars isn’t a bad thing, Carl. It’s proof that you survived. You have no idea how incredibly strong you are."

He seemed like he wanted to argue, but your gaze kept him silent. Then, you smiled and gently brushed your thumb across the skin near his bandage.

"Besides… you know what?"

"What?" he murmured, never breaking eye contact.

"You look like a damn pirate now," you teased.

Carl blinked, caught off guard by your sudden change in tone.

"A pirate?"

"Yeah," you nodded with a playful smile. "And pirates are cool. I’ll even make it my mission to find you the most badass eye patch out there."

For the first time in days, Carl let out a small laugh.

"You have a weird sense of humor," he remarked.

"And you have an obsession with thinking the worst of yourself," you shot back with a grin. "So, I guess we’re even."

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. Your hands remained on his face, looking at him gently. Carl took a deep breath, as if gathering the courage for something.

"Then… would you be my girlfriend?"

Your smile froze.

Carl didn’t look away. His voice didn’t waver, his posture was firm. This wasn’t a question thrown into the air—it was a declaration.

You blinked, feeling a mix of surprise and something else… something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

"Carl…"

"Don’t tell me you don’t take me seriously," he interrupted. "I know what I want."

You slowly lowered your hands from his face, sighing.

"It’s not that I don’t take you seriously," you said honestly. "It’s just that… there’s an age difference, Carl. You’re sixteen. I’m twenty-one."

He frowned.

"That doesn’t mean anything."

"It does."

Carl shook his head.

"Then… what am I supposed to do with how I feel?"

You sighed, running a hand through your hair.

"I don’t want to hurt you, Carl. But I think someone your age would be a better fit for you…"

"Forget it," he said firmly. "I don’t want Enid, I don’t want anyone else. I want you."

His sincerity completely disarmed you.

Carl was young, yes, but he wasn’t a child. In this world, age had lost much of its meaning. He had matured through hardship, through blood, through death. But that didn’t change the fact that he still had so much left to experience.

"Carl… I like you," you finally confessed, your voice soft.

His eyes widened in surprise.

"Then…?"

"But we can’t be together right now," you explained. "It wouldn’t be right. You need to live more before making a decision like this. Maybe in a few years, you’ll see things differently."

Carl looked frustrated, but also hopeful.

"Then tell me… what do I have to do?"

You smiled tenderly and leaned in toward him.

"Ask me again in two years," you whispered.

Before he could respond, you kissed his cheek.

Carl remained silent, his breath hitching for a moment. His cheeks flushed slightly, but he didn’t look away from you.

You knew he would take it seriously.

And you… you could only hope that, in two years, the world wouldn’t take him away from you before he had the chance to ask again.

glenn

The expedition had started off well. They had found a half-looted supply store, but there were still enough useful things to make the risk worthwhile. The team consisted of Glenn, Michonne, Rosita, Abraham, and you. Together, they managed to gather a good amount of canned food, medicine, and some tools.

It seemed like a simple mission. But, as always, things never went as planned.

The problem started when Glenn, who was checking the back of the store, heard an unsettling noise. A low murmur, the shuffling of feet growing louder and louder.

"We've got company," he warned, quickly approaching the others.

Michonne already had her katana ready. Abraham gripped his rifle. Rosita peeked through one of the windows and muttered a curse.

"We're screwed," she announced.

And she wasn't exaggerating.

What had been a relatively clear alley just minutes ago was now packed with walkers. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. Their groans blended into a macabre chorus as they advanced toward the store.

The only vehicle they had was parked in the back, but the only way to reach it was completely blocked.

"Shit!" Abraham exclaimed, tightening his grip on his rifle.

"Options?" Glenn asked, trying to stay calm.

Michonne frowned, thinking.

"We could wait and look for a way out later," Rosita suggested.

"By then, we'd be completely surrounded," you countered.

Everyone exchanged tense glances. They were trapped.

And then, a crazy idea crossed your mind.

"We can force our way out," you suddenly said.

All eyes turned to you.

"How?" Glenn asked, frowning.

You pointed to a couple of metal shelves in a corner. Some of them were stacked with flammable products—spray cans, bottles of alcohol, even a few lighters.

"We can set off a controlled explosion," you explained. "Something to distract them long enough for us to make a run for the truck."

Abraham let out a short laugh.

"Shit, I like the way you think."

Michonne, always pragmatic, nodded.

"If we're doing this, we need to do it fast."

Without wasting time, everyone started moving things. You used a box of alcohol as a base, stacked several spray cans around it, and then improvised a fuse with an old shirt and a lighter.

"This is insane," Glenn muttered beside you as you worked.

You smirked.

"Welcome to the apocalypse."

Once everything was set, you lit the fuse and tossed it onto the pile of flammable materials.

"Run!" you shouted.

Everyone dashed toward the back of the store. They barely had time to take cover before a deafening explosion shook the place. Shelves shattered, fire spread, and the walkers were drawn to the blast.

They didn’t wait to see the aftermath. Michonne was the first to move, followed by Rosita and Abraham, shooting down any walker that got in their way.

Glenn was right beside you.

"Come on!" he urged, but he couldn't stop looking at you.

His heart pounded—not just from the danger, but from the way you had taken control of the situation. You were incredible.

Finally, they reached the truck. Abraham jumped into the driver's seat and floored the gas as soon as everyone was inside.

Only when they were safely back on the road did they allow themselves a moment to breathe.

Michonne leaned back against her seat with a relieved sigh.

"That was intense," Rosita commented, glancing out the window to make sure they weren’t being followed.

"Intense? That was fucking brilliant!" Abraham exclaimed, turning toward you.

"That was insane," Glenn corrected, but there was a smile on his face.

Abraham chuckled and nudged Glenn, whispering to him afterward.

"If you don’t ask her to be your girlfriend right now, I swear to God, I will."

Glenn fell silent, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

He decided to wait for the conversation to shift before moving closer to you.

When the others started discussing what to do with the supplies, Glenn took the opportunity. He leaned in slightly, his voice lower.

"Can I ask you something?"

You turned your head toward him, raising an eyebrow.

"Sure."

He swallowed hard, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his jacket.

"I... I think it’s been pretty obvious that I have feelings for you, even if I’ve never said it explicitly. But the point is, I like you—more than just 'like.' I want something serious with you. So, my question is: Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

You fell silent for a moment, surprised by the unexpected confession.

Glenn smiled nervously.

"I mean it," he continued. "You're incredible. And I know this world is a mess, but… I think we could find something good in the middle of all this. Of course, only if you want to."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity in his gaze. Glenn had always been special—someone you could trust, someone who always found a reason to smile, even in the worst moments.

And yes… the truth was, you liked him too.

You smiled and, without thinking too much, took his hand and intertwined your fingers.

"I do. I want to be your girlfriend, Glenn."

He let out a relieved laugh.

"Well… thank God," he murmured, bringing your intertwined hands to his lips to kiss them.

From the front seat, Abraham smirked as he watched through the rearview mirror.

"Finally! About damn time."

maggie

The sun was setting on the horizon when the group finally returned to Hilltop. They had spent the entire day out, searching for supplies in a nearby town. The mission had been dangerous, as always, but fruitful.

You walked alongside Maggie, both of you covered in dust and sweat. Hilltop’s farm loomed ahead, its imposing wooden fence protecting the community you had helped build.

"I'm exhausted," you sighed, running a hand over your forehead.

Maggie glanced at you and smiled.

"At least we made it back in one piece."

You both knew what that meant. Not everyone was as lucky.

Since joining Hilltop, you had become inseparable from Maggie. Maybe it was because you both shared an unbreakable determination, a need to protect your people. Or maybe it was because, in the midst of so much death, she was the only person who truly felt like home.

And Maggie… Maggie knew it.

Since Glenn’s death, she had built walls around herself. She had learned to survive, to be strong, to not let grief consume her. But with you… it was different.

You made her laugh.

You made her forget, even if just for a few seconds, how much she had lost.

And that terrified her.

As you unloaded the supplies into the barn, Maggie paused for a moment to watch you. Your agile hands lifted box after box, your expression focused yet relaxed. You had proven to be one of the bravest members of the group, someone she could trust completely.

And damn it if that didn’t make her want you even more.

"What is it?" you asked, noticing her staring at you.

Maggie quickly shook her head, snapping back to reality.

"Nothing," she replied with a small smile.

"Uh-huh," you said, raising an eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes and picked up another box.

"I'm serious. I just… I'm glad you're here."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you decided not to dwell on it.

"Well, I’m not going anywhere," you replied with a playful smile.

Maggie didn’t answer, but the way she looked at you sent a shiver down your spine.

After finishing with the supplies, you both headed to the main house. The night was cool, the air filled with the scent of damp earth after the light rain that had fallen earlier.

Before going inside, Maggie stopped on the porch, gazing up at the stars.

"Do you ever think about what life would be like if the world hadn’t gone to hell?" she asked softly.

You fell silent for a moment, considering.

"Yeah," you admitted. "All the time."

Maggie nodded slowly, still looking at the sky.

"I think you'd make a great teacher," she said suddenly.

You chuckled softly.

"Really?"

"Yeah. You’re good at teaching others, at helping… I can imagine a bunch of kids driving you crazy in a classroom."

You shook your head in amusement.

"And you?" you asked.

Maggie shrugged.

"I always wanted a simple life. A family, a farm… something peaceful."

Her voice broke slightly on the last word, and you knew she was thinking about Glenn.

Without saying anything, you took her hand and squeezed it gently.

"That doesn’t mean you can’t have it someday," you said softly.

Maggie looked at you, her eyes glistening.

"You give me hope," she murmured.

And then, without thinking twice, she kissed you.

The world around you disappeared.

Her lips against yours were warm, urgent, desperate. It wasn’t a soft or delicate kiss. It was raw, as if she had been holding back for too long.

Your back hit the door of the house as Maggie deepened the kiss, her fingers tangling in your hair.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless.

"Wow," you murmured.

Maggie smiled, biting her lip.

"Too late to back out now, huh?"

You shook your head, still trying to catch your breath.

"Not a chance."

Maggie let out a soft laugh and took your hand.

"Then come with me."

And without hesitation, you followed her inside.

Once inside, Maggie led you to her room, closing the door behind her. She leaned against the wooden frame, watching you with an intensity that made your knees weak.

"I’ve always been stubborn," she said suddenly.

You smiled, crossing your arms.

"Yeah, I’ve noticed."

Maggie sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"Since I met you, I’ve been trying to convince myself that this couldn’t happen. That it wasn’t the right time, that it wasn’t right."

Your heart pounded.

"And now?" you asked softly.

Maggie gave you a small, lopsided smile.

"Now I understand that there are no right moments. Just moments we take or let slip away."

She stepped closer, her gaze locked onto yours.

"I don’t want to let you slip away."

The way she said it, with so much certainty, so much emotion, made your legs feel like they might give out.

"Maggie…"

She took your hands in hers.

"I want you to be my partner," she said without hesitation. "I want this to be real. Not just a moment, not just a distraction… I want to be with you."

The weight of her words crashed over you like a wave.

It had been so long since someone made you feel this way, since someone was willing to love you in a world where love felt like a death sentence.

But Maggie… she was willing to take the risk.

And so were you.

You smiled, squeezing her hands tightly.

"Then what are you waiting for to kiss your girlfriend?"

Maggie let out a soft laugh before cupping your face in her hands and kissing you with all the passion she had been holding back for so long.

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rafeandonlyrafe · 9 months ago

Text

range

words: 700

warnings: mentions of violence, takes place in s3, gun range, shooting (just targets), protective!rafe, soft!rafe, established relationship

“rafe, i really don't know about this…” you sigh, hands twisting around together, trying to combat them shaking and appearing weak in front of your boyfriend.

“i just think this would be a good idea.” rafe says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “i don't expect you to become a fan or do this fun, but it would make me feel better.”

“is this because of whatever you're doing with barry?” you question, placing your hands on your hips. “or why you were in carribbean for “business” and all of a sudden stop answering my calls?”

“what do you know about barry?” rafe questions, his face turning pale, voice dropping as his tone turns serious.

“i heard you talking to him on the phone. you thought i was asleep.” you admit sheepishly, not proud of what you did, but you knew rafe was hiding something from you.

“okay.” rafe says, hands dropping to your shoulders, giving them a squeeze. “yes. it's because of bad men that i want you to at least learn how to shoot a basic handgun. i will be here to protect you but if anything happens to me…”

“rafe, you're really scaring me.” you gulp, eyes suddenly darting around, wondering how safe you are in tanneyhill.

“im gonna get shit sorted out. soon. until then, i need to know you can protect yourself.”

“okay.” you pout, knowing rafe will suck his head and kiss you. you wrap your arms around his shoulders and find comfort in his hold, slight relief knowing that what he was hiding from you wasn't another girl, but knowing hes in danger sends a chill to your very core.

“as far as i can tell, no one knows about you. as much as i want to show you off to the world, i need you to just be sheltered for a little bit. until things blow over.”

“rafe,” you coo out, placing your hands on the smooth planes of his cheeks. “im not mad. i trust you. just tell me this stuff so im not sat here questioning.”

“i love you.” rafe says earnestly. he used to see it as a flaw, how deep his love runs for those he cares about, especially when it turned sour against his family, but when you came into his life everything turned around and began looking up, his growing love becoming a strength instead of a weakness.

“i love you too.” you press another kiss to his lips. “so, when are we going?”

rafe has the guns laid out in the case, all pointing down range. two pistols and one revolver, all handed down to him by ward, who of course only bought the highest of quality.

“okay.” you nod, listening intently to rafes safety lesson, purposely looking at the guns and not his face as to not get distracted and remind yourself of the importance of what you're doing.

“ill fire the full magazine first that way you can hear it and see it.” rafe explains. “and then ill reload and you can fire. this one doesn't have a lot of kickback.”

you nod and take a couple steps back, jumping when the first shot is fired, but your flinching slowly settles as rafe fires down the range until the gun clicks.

“ready?” rafe turns, placing his hands on your shoulders. “remember, when you pick up a gun, you're doing it to save yourself. you're shooting to kill.”

“i know.” you nod somberly, moving to the edge of the shooting area and picking up the gun, making sure to aim it towards the target the whole time as you adjust your grip before flipping the safety.

your finger hesitates briefly over the trigger before you fire, gasping at the power held in your hands.

you finish off the magazine and set the gun down with a staggering step back, right into rafes hold.

“i got you. you did good.” rafe hugs you to him, sliding your ear protection off to place kisses all over your face.

he continues comforting you after every round is fired, reminding you of the importance and reassuring you you're doing well.

“i know you didn't enjoy that.” rafe says as you get back into the car, having picked up all your shell casings and fully cleared the guns. “but im glad you did it, baby. i pray nothing ever happens but if it does, you'll be ready.”

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @bejeweledreverie @drewsephrry

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yoditopascal · 9 months ago

Text

Like A Prayer (Part 3)

summary: best friends with wade you’re always being dragged into something even when he’s not trying to, what are you to do when you find the fate of your timeline in the hands of yourself, your chaotic merc and an angry wolverine who’s hellbent on drinking himself to death?

content warnings: romance, some angst, a little fluff, character deaths, canon-typical violence, smut, lots of cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug and alcohol use, reader insert but with no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, deadpool being deadpool, mentions of poor mental health (depression anxiety and ptsd mostly), scent marking, the honda odyssey scene needs a warning all on its own MINORS DNI

a/n: slightly shorter but hopefully worth it! Comments and criticisms are welcome!

tag list: sorry if you weren’t tagged I tried tagging everyone that asked but some usernames didn’t work! @allmyn1ghts @blooket-scares-me @amararosesblog @talanyra @spideybv28

Previous Chapter//Next Chapter

Are You That Somebody?

The two of you stepped through portal after portal in search of the perfect Logan who was willing to help you save your timeline. The first one was a little too short for Wade’s liking, the next one too 80’s he had said, the one after that was too busy fighting the Hulk, the one after that too old, and the one after him…you couldn’t really think of anything to say about the one called Patch except that you found him the most attractive with his eyepatch out of all of them, unfortunately though he seemed to hate Wade the most.

Wade stopped as a portal closed behind you both, as he approached a different Wolverine from behind, this one was alone in a garage and was working on his motorcycle with his back turned to you smoking a cigar.

“Now we’re talking.” He said rubbing his hands together like he was warming up. Every Wolverine so far has tried to kill him on the spot but had spared you for some odd reason, so he probably was preparing himself. “That’s the whole goddamn package right there.” He sounded like he was licking his lips under the mask.

This Wolverine was different, his build looked bigger than the other ones you had met, bulkier and he stood differently too as if he had more confidence in himself.

When he turns to get a good look at you both Wade lets out a girlish squeal as he covers his mouth with his hands.

“Oh, my fuck!” He shouts excitedly smacking you in the arm. “The Cavillrine! The legends are true.”

Now that this one was facing you, you could clearly see his face, he looked completely different from the others, still rugged but not as attractive to you. He looks you dead in the eyes and like all the others before him froze in place when he finally saw you, eyes unreadable as his nose flared.

It shocked you both when this Wolverine calls out your name, clear as day as Wade looks back and forth comically between you two incredulously. He steps forward towards you and you take a step back behind Wade, seeing first hand how violent Wolverine’s can be.

“Sorry to interrupt whatever the fuck that was but may I say, sir, on behalf of all humanity, this just feels right!” Wade says stepping in between you two, breaking the intense eye contact. “We will treat you so much better than those shit fucks down the street.”

“You were just leaving.” This Wolverine snaps calmly as he flicks his wrist, reloading his arms and drawing his claws. With a hard smack of his arm he miscalculates and sends Wade flying into you, through another portal he had opened up at the last minute behind you.

The impact of his body sent you barreling into a pool table as you both flew out of the portal. Messing up whatever game they had going on, a few patrons of the dingy bar you were now in glared at the two of you angrily, one being so bold as to step up to you before Wade stands up grabbing the irate man by his neck, almost instantly putting him to sleep.

Pulling you to your feet, you dusted yourself off from being on the grimy floor and readjusted your clothes. It was getting late, you had no idea how many hours you guys had left but you still hadn’t found a suitable Wolverine to replace your own yet and your chest was starting to tighten up in desperation and fear.

Looking to say something to Wade you realize while you were lost in yourself he had walked off, and instead was going up to a man at the bar. This one you could instantly recognize from behind from his hair tufts alone.

He had found another Wolverine and by the looks of his slouched shoulders this one was neck deep in an alcohol induced pity party.

You followed behind Wade just reaching the bar when the bartender came and took the cup from Wolverine looking equal parts annoyed and scared of the man in front of him. “I told you, you’re not welcome here, you’re not welcome anywhere. Now get the fuck out of my bar.” He said calmly not wanting to cause a big scene but still wanting to get his point across sternly.

“Just give me one more drink and I’ll leave.” The Wolverine answered as he looked down at where his cup had been, he looked the part of a kicked puppy.

“That’s not how this works.” The bartender started again but was interrupted when Wade leaned on the counter beside Wolverine “It does now, leave the bottle thanks.” He says shooing the man away. The bartender stares at the three of you oddly before going off to wipe down another part of the bar, leaving you to it.

This Wolverine’s nose flares as he audibly inhales and snaps his head to look past Wade at you. Unlike with the others before him the emotions in his eyes were clear as day as he looked at you, or more like through you.

Shock, fear, guilt and then ultimately hate welled up in his hazel eyes as he snatched up the bottle of jack the bartender had left beside him talking a few gulps.

“I know you, bub?” He asked you with a hard voice, clearly he did or at least he knew some version of you from this timeline. “Cause you got a lot of fucking nerve wearing the face of a dead girl ‘round me.”

Dead? Were you dead in this timeline?

You open your mouth to speak but Wade cuts you off as he holds up a gloved finger to your lips shushing you.

“Look peanut, I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about, a lot of emotional turmoil to get out and eventually a heartfelt confession gets thrown into the mix followed by, judging from the sex eyes you’re giving each other, a whole lot of fucky fucky time but we’re kinda on a time crunch here so I’m gonna need you to come with us right now.” He said, nodding towards the door. You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, you loved Wade to pieces but sometimes you wish he’d keep his mouth shut.

“Look, lady, I’m not interested.” Wolverine said, tearing his glare away from you to stare down Wade, he thought his outfit looked absolutely ridiculous and that was saying something, then he felt his gaze drift back to you, taking in your scent again.

Not only did you look like her, only a little younger, but you even smelled like her too, albeit just a little bit different. That was something he knew deep in his gut that couldn’t be replicated no matter what copying powers you had, so how the fuck were you standing here in front of him when he himself had buried your dead body almost a year ago?

Snapping his attention back to the conversation, he hadn’t heard a word red had said to him.

“Why would I go with you?” He asked cutting Wade off as he took another sip from the bottle before drunkenly poking him in the forehead

“Because, unfortunately, I need you. We,” he emphasizes gesturing between the two of you, “Need you, our entire world needs you.”

“You guys gonna fuck or fight?” The bartender comes back looking between Wade and Wolverine, clearly tired of having you all in his establishment. Wade looks at the man like he had sprouted a second head before slowly turning back to Wolverine.

“You gonna take that from him?”

“Yup.” The Wolverine says, sounding defeated, like he was tired of even putting up a fight.

“I can tell you sort of have this ‘don’t get too close, I’ll only break your heart’ vibe going here, but every other Wolverine would have really hurt me by now and we’re sort of on the tic-tic, so upsy-daisy.” Wade said standing to his feet pulling Wolverine up from his barstool. He shoves Wade back away from him and you rush behind Wade to pull him away from him at the tell tale snikt sound of his claws coming out, only when you looked down at his balled fists you could only see just the tip of them peeking through his tanned skin, as if he had stopped himself midway from fully pulling them out.

“Whiskey dick with the claws huh? It’s quite common in Wolverines over 40.” Wade jokes half heartedly trying to diffuse the situation or make it worse, you weren’t quite sure.

“Trust me pal, you don’t want this.” The Wolverine said his voice husky as he stared you two down silently pleading for you to leave before he hurt you like he hurt the others.

Sighing heavily Wade pulls out a gun and presses it to Wolverine’s head “Unless you want to take a deep breath through your fucking forehead, I suggest you reconsider.” He gestured to the door with it. “Let’s go, Peanut.”

With a laugh the Wolverine leans into the gun’s muzzle staring right at Wade.

You had had enough. Walking around Wade you stand in between the two men, placing one arm on Wolverine's shoulder and the other on Wade’s arm silently asking him to lower his gun, which he did just ever so slightly, before turning your attention back to Wolverine.

“Look, Wade isn’t always the best at articulating what he needs without making it a joke, but we really do need your help.”

With a snort Wolverine shrugs off your burning touch from his shoulder, you were making him hot, too hot for the stuffy bar, so he reaches back over the bar to grab the bottle of jack again. God you even sounded just like her.

“We’ve been looking for you for a long time, Wolverine!”

“Don’t call me that.”

He hated it when you called him Wolverine.

“Please! Just please!” You cried out grabbing him by his sleeve, he turned to look at you again, his eyes searching your face.

“We really need you! You’re the only one who can fix this! Trust me I would take literally anybody other than you if I could,” you said, growing increasingly frustrated and irritated with the man in front of you.

Ouch.

“But it has to be you! So are you gonna be that somebody or not?”

The Wolverine gets closer to you, you can practically smell the alcohol and his natural musk radiating off of him at his close proximity. He looks at you for a long while as if mulling over what you had just said to him before answering with a “Not.”

“Oh you motherf-!”

You were cut off as Wolverine stands to his full height, towering over you. He grabs at the barrel of Wade’s gun, drunkenly to steady himself as he chuckles. He holds up a finger telling you both to wait as he proceeds to chug down the rest of the nearly full bottle of jack.

“Good God. Thirsty little honey badger, aren’t ya?” Wade looks at him in shock, just as Wolverine pulls the now empty bottle away and goes to reply he hiccups before stumbling and dropping to the ground completely dead to the world.

“I guess you’ll have to do.” Wade groans holstering his gun and going to grab the now passed out Wolverine by his shirt, just as he goes to lift he spots something yellow peeking from underneath.

“Ooh. Look at those jammies.” He said as he starts to unbutton the Wolverine’s shirt. “That only took 20 fucking years!”

Heaving him up on his shoulder Wade groans at the weight of his limp adamantium skeleton, and starts to drag him outside with you following close behind.

“Quick help me get his clothes off, Nugget!” He said dropping the man unceremoniously to the ground as he continued to unbutton his clothes.

“Wade what the fuck are you doing?!” You snap at his hands as he strips him down to his superhero costume underneath.

It was bright yellow with blue accents with light scuffs and scratches on it, it was tight to him, almost like a second skin, his gloved hands adorned with special slots for his claws to pop out, just like in your old comic books, you almost couldn’t tear your eyes away from him as they dragged down his body.

“Eye fuck him some more why don’t you.” Wade said suggestively and if he wasn’t wearing the mask you know he’d be wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You stutter trying to defend yourself as you feel your cheeks heat up. Ignoring you Wade stands back to his feet, slinging one of Wolverine’s arms over his shoulders as he shoulders his weight. Opening up the TVA device he stole, Wade types something in and opens up a new portal. “Save your lady boner for later Nugget we got a timeline to save!”

You wanted to stop him and tell him that the man he was carrying was insufferable even after only knowing him for a solid 10 minutes and that there was no way he’d have you hot in the pants with the way he was acting but your gut was overcome with a feeling of uncertainty.

A feeling that told you that going back to the TVA would be a trap, but knowing that like always once Wade had his mind set on something that was it, you simply tucked your much smaller self under Wolverine’s other shoulder and helped Wade through the portal.

#logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #wolverine imagine #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #wolverine #platonic deadpool x reader #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #hugh jackman #SoundCloud #like a prayer

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exqorcism · 5 months ago

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𝘿𝘼𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙊𝙐𝙎, 𝙏𝘼𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙀𝘿 & 𝙁𝙇𝘼𝙒𝙀𝘿 ⎯ father charlie mayhew

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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smoky-lucine · 4 months ago

Text

Close Call

Little sister!Reader

After a close call during a hunt, The Winchester brothers panic as Castiel heals you.

Injuries, angst

My second fic :) I'm still trying to get the hang of writing but hopefully you all enjoy :)

You and the boys have been working on a case dealing with werewolves. You managed to catch one and kill it, and he confessed there is a whole pack in town and now you need to find the rest of them. You and Sam stayed in the motel and studied up on werewolves while Dean and Cas went out to the recent attacks around the town.

You didn’t get a lot of sleep the last few nights, as the werewolf attacks were happening faster and faster, and the four of you have been out every night on watch for any leads. Sam nudges your shoulder, and your chin slips off your hand and you jolt awake.

“Everything alright?” Sam asks while he shuts the book you fell asleep reading and sits down next to you.

“I’m okay, just tired from being out so late last night.” You say, rubbing your eyes.

Dean calls Sam and he gives you a gentle smile before he answers the phone and puts the call on speaker.

“Hey Dean, did you find anything?”

“Yeah. One of the Officers was a werewolf. He told us where they’re all staying before we took him out. We’re gonna hit it tonight alright?” Dean explains and you hear Castiel in the background ordering food for the three of you.

“Sounds good to me. Did he say how many of them are staying there?” You reply

“Nope. By the looks of how many attacks there's been, I don’t think it would be more than 7 or 8.” Dean says confidently.

Sam keeps talking about the case with Dean and you start getting silver bullets and knives ready for the hunt.

Later that night the four of you are on the way to the werewolves hiding house in the Impala. Sam and Dean are having their own conversation in the front while you and Castiel talk in the back.

“Have you ever hunted werewolves before?” You ask Cas.

“A few times yes. Angels don’t usually deal with them. Have you?”

“Occasionally yeah. I haven’t seen them in a while though, not since we still hunted with dad.” You say looking away. You didn’t like talking about your dad anymore, nobody really did. “I haven’t practiced my shooting in a bit too.”

“I’m sure we got it kid.” Dean says to you looking in the rear view mirror. “It’s gonna be a small pack. It’s gonna be in and out.”

You give him a smile. You turn to yawn and look out the window for the rest of the ride.

The four of you get ready and watch the house waiting for Dean to decide when to go in.

“Alright. Sam and Cas you two go in the side door, Y/N and I will go through the front.”

You look at Dean surprised. He normally chooses Sam when splitting up and it would make sense here too.

“Are you sure Dean?” You ask him nervously. “Yes, I’m sure. Do you not want to go in? What’s wrong?” Sam looks at you knowing you're tired, but he knows you don't want to tell the truth to Dean.

“No, it’s okay.” You say quietly, walking away a bit and focusing back on the house. Everybody does one last look at each other before splitting up and breaking into the house.

Dean kicks the door down and you both run in aiming separate ways. You hear Dean shoot a werewolf down and he turns to check on you in the now empty room. You can hear the other wolves in the house warning the others and running to defend against the four of you. You run up to the doorway, calling it clear and Dean runs into the kitchen with you following.

Making your way through the house, you and Dean each take down a few werewolves, and eventually meet up with Sam and Cas. The upstairs is still loud with werewolves running and escaping. You all say how many you took down and quickly realize there are at least triple the number of werewolves than Dean previously thought.

“But that doesn’t make sense. How can there be so many??” He says reloading his gun and looking around the room.

You responded “The attacks were happening faster and faster. I guess they don’t want to be careful anymore.” You focus on reloading your gun when you hear a growl.

You turn and see a werewolf sprinting at you and tackles you, losing all air in your lungs and dropping your gun. It claws at your stomach, leaving a huge gash. You quickly start seeing stars and your vision starts clouding, black slowly starting to take over. Coughing and screaming out you hear multiple gunshots and the werewolf dying.

Sam and Dean run up to you, eyes shocked at your injury.

“She’s really hurt.” Sam says, tearing up trying to get your eyes to focus.

“Sammy we gotta get her out of here.” Dean says loudly and begins to pick you up, flinching when he hears you cry out in pain. “There’s too many wolves here we need to leave.”

Dean runs as quickly as possible to Baby, putting you in the backseat. He throws the keys to Sam and yells "Drive!!” Castiel gets in the passenger seat and Sam runs to the driver’s seat and quickly starts the car, driving away from the house.

Dean holds you in the backseat trying to keep himself composed as he talks to you. “It’s okay Y/N. It’s gonna be okay alright? I’m so sorry I should’ve paid more attention. Look at me Y/N, open your eyes.” He begins to panic and yells at Sam to drive faster.

“We need to get far enough away; Cas needs to heal her.” Sam says speeding down the road.

You slip in and out of consciousness and wake up to Dean crying over you, and Sam and Cas yelling in worry. The three boys can’t stand hearing you scream in pain. You pass out and when the car is suddenly silent, Sam pulls over quickly as he and Castiel rush out of the car to reach you in the back seat.

“Cas, heal her.” Dean says solely focused on holding you still. Sam holds your hand as Castiel puts his hand on your stomach. His hand emits a bright white glow and Sam and Dean look away.

You wake up in the motel room. You look around at the quiet room and see Castiel in the corner staring at you.

“You're awake.” He says walking up to you. “I healed you. You’ve been asleep for a couple days, Sam finally got Dean to leave and eat.” You lift your shirt and there isn't a single scratch on your abdomen.

Castiel helps you sit up and hands you a bottle of water. “Your physical injuries are healed, but your body is tired. I could tell you haven’t slept in a few days.”

You drink the water and hand it back to Castiel. “Yeah, those night watches have been pretty hard. I appreciate you healing me and staying with me.” You give him a small smile and he gives you one in return and lets you rest longer.

Sam and Dean come home and seeing you sitting up in bed they run up to you. Dean hugs you tightly and when you yelp in surprise he lets go, scared you were somehow still injured. “Kid, I was so scared. I thought we lost you.” he says kneeling beside the bed, looking at you.

Sam gives you a big hug before climbing into the other side of the bed and letting you lean into his side. “It was really scary Y/N. I’m so relieved we got you healed in time.”

“I’m really sorry guys.” You say tearing up. “I haven’t slept in days, and I really wanted to help fight them, but I know I should’ve stayed back.”

Dean grabs your hand, “Y/N this isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have put that pressure on you, and I should’ve stuck to the plan. Please don’t blame yourself.”

You all sit there quietly talking to each other until you slowly fall asleep and get more rest.

#supernatural #fanfic #dean winchester #dean winchester x little sister #sam winchester #sam winchester x sister!reader #castiel #winchester!sister #winchester!reader #spn #writeblr

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