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[fanfiction-library14]

Smut fic request pls! (P.s I absolutely adore your work omg),

mommy g!p Wanda x young reader (19) with breeding kink and bondage, with spreader pole, blind fold, gag, and rope. and r is a little whore just for mommy Wanda. r is best friends with tommy and billy.

you feel afraid, mommy's here

ೃ⁀➷ mommy amab wanda x 19 yo virgin fem reader

ೃ⁀➷ word count: 2k+

ೃ⁀➷ a/n: 😫😫😫 (hope you like, might expand on this prompt later and make it a whole 6k+ thing!) (no promises!)

ೃ⁀➷ warnings: spreader pole, gags, blindfolds, handcuffs, wanda has a penis!, mommy kink, unspecified age gap, (r is 19, w is?), overstimulation, dacryphilia, brief anxiety attack due to overstimulation at a club, p in v, breeding kink (if i miss anything let me know) NOT BETA READ!!!!!

ೃ⁀➷ please reblog & leave a comment with your thoughts 🫶🏻

╰➤ linktree ╰➤ pinterest╰➤ requests open check rules

𓆩⟡𓆪

“so tomorrow then?” billy grinned

you groaned at the twin. “don’t make me leave! my sister is back from college and keeps trying to convince me to accompany her over the summer. she does not understand that i already have plans!”

“well to be fair your plans are made up of playing video games and intruding into our house.” tommy poked you in the shoulder.

you rolled your eyes.

the three of you sat on their couch, facing a large tv, equipped with all kinds of consoles, the latest play station, limited edition play stations, nintendos, and an xbox. their divorce of a dad might not be around, but he did spoil them rotten.

“you love it! you were the one who told me to make myself at home, gave me a key, and told me that it was my home too! i have clothes in the closet of the guest room!”

“semantics!”

you heard the front door open, and your heart pounded in your chest in tandem.

wanda was home. you could feel heat rising to your cheeks, and the twins burst out laughing. you were shit at keeping secrets. and they found it funny how you would stumble over your words whenever their mom was around.

heels clicked against the hard expensive flooring. the footfalls getting louder the closer, your breaths shallow.

“children!” her voice was like silk, overriding your brain.

“hi, ms. maximoff!”

“sweetheart!” she chided. a bright smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

“wanda!” you corrected yourself, she insisted you call her by her name. there were other names you wanted to call her.

“will you be staying for dinner darling?”

you nodded eagerly.

tommy snorted.

“shut up!” you hissed.

“what was that?” wanda cocked her head knowingly.

you shook your head.

𓆩⟡𓆪

wanda stared across the dinner table as your bantered with her sons.

you were glowing.

wanda was not stupid. she could see the way you looked at her. the way you squirmed when she touched your shoulder.

you were so so pretty and enticing. forbidden fruit.

but that was as far as she was going to let herself go. dirty dreams and screams muffled into her pillow as you slept in the guest room.

so she drew a line in the imaginary sand and promised herself she would not cross it. all the toys she had hidden away in her closet would stay gathering dust.

𓆩⟡𓆪

the music made your head ache. you wanted to go. it was too much. everything was too much. the scent of alcohol and sweat. the sticky floors. the flashing lights. your short strapless dress rode up your thighs

you were regretting deeply coming with the boys. their debauchery was entertaining sometimes. but this time they had gone too far. sneaking into a nightclub.

your heart raced and a knot formed in your throat. you could not get out fast enough.

you did not worry about the boys. they would find a way home safely.

you worried about yourself.

with trembling hands you reached for your phone, you scrolled to your contacts, past your mother’s number. going on instinct. your chin wobbled. you needed safety. you inhaled sharply as you pressed the phone number for ms. maximoff.

𓆩⟡𓆪

wanda clenched her jaw, switched lanes, and pushed the boundaries of the speed limit in her shiny Mercedes.

she came to a stop in front of a nightclub. she could feel the pounding bass. she looked around and saw you recognize the car. two men walked next to you as you rushed to her.

you opened the door, as the men spewed drunken obscenities at you.

you slammed the door shut, almost taking out their fingers.

wanda did not know how to react.

it was uncomfortably silent. you buckled your seatbelt, and drew your knees up, tightening your body into a ball, the skirt of your dress riding up your inviting thighs, sneakers digging into leather, she was too worried to care.

she drove in silence. somewhere along the way your breaths deepened and you started to shake.

she pulled over, turned on the blinking lights, unbuckled her seatbelt, and twisted her body towards you.

she called out your name softly.

you looked up from your knees, eyes bright red, glistening with unshed tears. your lips wobbled, into a faux smile, and your chin trembled visibly.

she cupped your chin. “baby…” her voice was soft, losing all her anger. she knew it was the fault of her boys, dragging you along into their shenanigans.

your fickle composure broke at the pet name, and you whined out a “mommy!” not aware of the word that came out of your mouth. but she smiled softly, wistfully.

“let’s get you home.”

𓆩⟡𓆪

wanda clenched your hand in hers, bringing you back to earth. you watched the window as the city faded into townhouses, and the houses grew in size.

everything was a blur, she pulled into the garage, and you were following her into the living room.

“the boys texted, they were worried about you, i told them you were safe. they are sleeping over at a friend’s house. those damn boys, dragging you into their depravity.”

“i hated it. i hate the noise and the smell and the tight space, and the gross, gross men. i feel disgusting!” you whined. not thinking twice as you crawled up her lap, straddling her. burying your face into her neck, she smelled so good you groaned. your hips twitching unconsciously.

wanda stiffened. her fingers digging into your exposed thighs. she called out your name in warning. but you were to go in her scent.

you dragged your nose up the slope of her throat. lips ghosting over her sensitive skin.

you felt pressure against your pantie-covered cunt. you moaned at the sudden pressure. rutting into the hardness.

you felt wanda’s jaw slacken, as her hips bucked up into your warmth.

“we can’t!” she protested, but her hands slid up your dress and gripped the plush of your ass, pulling your hips closer to her lap.

“i’m nineteen, nothing illegal. please i have wanted you for so long.”

“i know.”

“you knew?” you panted, hips rutting against her hardness.

“i’ve always known.”

“since-”

“always.”

“ah! oh god.” your pussy wept with relief at finally getting what it wanted. your rolled your hips. “more!” you lifted yourself off her, and she frowned, cupping her length for relief.

you slid your panties off, kicked off your sneakers and rushed to straddle her once again.

her jean-clad cock felt heavenly against your slick pussy. your pussy splitting open, clit grinding down on her. your hands wrapped around her neck, as you undulated your hips with fervour.

bursts of pleasure making your body spasm, your pussy making a mess of her jeans, drenching the material. making it easier for you to move. her hands slid up your dress, to your back, pressing your front to her face.

she gripped the neckline of your dress with her teeth, dragging it down, freeing your breasts. she was quick to wrap her lips around a nipple, teeth scraping the sensitive flesh, as you rutted into her. pressure built and built inside you, exploding in such a way you screamed your pussy fluttering and clenching around nothing.

“c’mon.” her voice was hoarse. “my turn”

you wobbled to your feet. legs shaking with the aftershock of the orgasm, dress bunched up in your midsection, exposing your pussy and your boobs.

she grabbed your hand and led you to her room. you could not help but stare at the huge tent in her jeans. at the huge wet spot.

“before we begin, i need you to know that i have been wanting you for so long, there are so many things i want to do to you. depraved things.”

“do them, safe word red.”

“i want to gag you.” her voice was rough.

“god yes! i’ll snap my fingers.”

“stand still and close your eyes.”

you waited with bated breath, you heard rustling as she placed some things on the bed and made her way back to you.

you felt silk drag against your eyelids. tighten as she knotted the piece of cloth over your eyes.

“open your mouth, sweet girl”

you felt the pressure of a silicone ball press against your lips, you opened your mouth, and it settled in the edge of your lips. you bit softly into it.

“god, you look so pretty like this, who knew you liked it rough? not even my darkest dreams compare to you.”

you moaned around the gag, slickness gathered on your inner thighs.

she led you to the bed, murmuring praises as she ghosted the tips of her fingers on your skin.

she dragged your dress down your body, leaving you exposed.

you felt the sharp bite of leather tightens against your ankles, a pressure keeping your legs apart, spread.

you bucked your hips up, desperate for anything, any sort of pressure against your aching cunt.

your hands were handcuffed to the headboard, and you trashed softly, begging her for release.

“i’m going to taste you know, and you are going to take every morsel of what i give you because you are my good little whore.

you moaned around the gag, spit gathering in the corners of your mouth.

your legs were guided up, knees bending softly. exposing your cunt to the cool air conditioning.

you screamed when she split your folds open with her tongue.

and oh…

she ate pussy like a woman starved.

you trashed and moaned, too much, so good.

she slid her tongue inside you and you bit into the gag. bucking against your restraints. fingers tightening into fists.

she lapped, and sucked, and kissed, and nipped, and you were sure you made a mess of her face. but she was relentless. making you reach your peak twice.

but you were no where near snapping your fingers for it to stop. the pain was so good, you felt the silk blindfold dampen with your tears of pain and pleasure.

and in seconds her mouth was gone and you were left shaking, reeling in the aftermath.

but as soon as your made a guttural whiny noise from deep in your throat, you felt the grip of her fingers as she pressed your legs to their limit, testing your flexibility.

and you were dripping down your cunt, into the mattress, pussy gushing with your cum and her saliva.

and she was murmuring incoherent praises.

and your full body spasmed as you felt her bulging, throbbing cock press against your entrance.

and you felt your hymen give away. you screamed at the pain of the pinch.

wanda moaned wantonly as she realized that she was taking your virginity, she would be the first and last cock to ever pound into you.

and pound she did. the burn was so good, tears streamed drenched the silk.

you whined and whined as her hips slammed into yours, as she sheathed herself into you. finger teasing your clit. it was too much. your sobs were muffled.

“i’m going to come in you, and i will make you a mommy, and you will belong to me, irrevocably mine!”

and your orgasmed slammed into you at the thought of your belly swollen with her baby. you felt as she came, her thrust making obscene squelching noises.

and she sighed.

her cock softening inside you.

𓆩⟡𓆪

you had called her mommy in the car. you were crying, sobbing into her neck when your brain processed the fact. your body shaking from the pressure, her semen dripping down your thighs.

you were finally home. wrapped around her lithe arms, breathing in her scent.

she drew soothing patterns on your back, your body sprawled on top of hers. she hummed softly, and you were in heaven, blissful, and complete.

“s’ good mommy,” you sighed.

“i love you, baby. you are mine now and i am never letting you go.”

[fanfiction-library14]

Mine

Dark!Geralt x reader

Summary: Geralt shows you that you're only his.

Warnings: 18+ Only, NSFW, angst, rough unprotected sex (p in v), slight choking, Dub!con, virginity loss, vulgar language

Word Count: 791

With horror, you witnessed Geralt’s golden irises bore into the man’s eyes that he had just killed in a swift motion. The man’s head rolled, stopping right at your feet. Any other individual would be fleeing or screaming. However, you? Not at all. You were utterly still and unmoving in your place.

You began to notice that your hands were shaking.

Soon after, a powerful hand caught your jaw and raised your head. With great intensity, Geralt's eyes met yours, and through clenched teeth, he spoke one word. "Mine."

His breaths were coming out harshly, his chest rising and falling with steam from his enraged state. Geralt’s hand moved from your jaw to your arm and harshly dragged you to the small cabin you both were taking shelter in. You winced under his rough touch. “Geralt! You’re hurting me. Stop!” you shouted, and he ignored your pleas to let go.

The small droplets of blood fell from his sword and led a trail to the small cabin, and inside, he dropped it and shoved you in, slamming the door shut. You were oblivious to Geralt's possessiveness toward you until now.

Geralt stalked toward you, and you began to walk backward, stopping when you hit the wall. He trapped you as he put both of his hands near your head. "I am the only man who will ever be allowed to touch you. Any other man who attempts will be killed by me; the man you just saw was an example."

“Do you understand?” Geralt was waiting for a response from you—any response. However, you gave none. You just stood there, staring right back at him. His jaw ticked, and he asked again. “Do you understand?” You began to stammer out your words. “I.. understand.” 

You’d never been scared of Geralt until now. “I don’t believe you fully do." His eyes looked over your face, and a wicked smile formed. "But you're about to..."

Your heart began to beat out of your chest. Geralt pulled on your hair, causing your head to bend backward, and his other hand gripped your jaw as he grazed his teeth along your neck and up to your mouth, where he smashed his lips against yours.

With his hands still on your hair, Geralt steered you backward until you struck the table on the other side of the room. Every object on the table was shoved off its surface by his hands.

He began to rid himself of his attire. You tried to move, but he stopped you with his large hand, encircling your throat. “Don’t.” He said it with a threatening tone.

His eyes ranked over your body for a moment before he tore off your clothing.

Geralt aggressively started to assault your lips once more, his tongue dominating yours. His hands began to harshly massage your breasts, and he pushed you down on the table.

As soon as you felt the cold surface underneath you, he intruded your cunt with his cock. "Geralt, wait!” you yelled. With no concern for your being, Geralt stretched your walls, causing you to experience an unparalleled level of pain.

Tears welled in your eyes and your nails scraped against the wooden surface. You could feel his sac hitting your ass each time he pushed back into you.

“I'm the only person who is allowed to see your body, to touch you, and to fuck you until you can't remember who or where you are."

His tone turned harsh. "Fucking"—thrust—"take"—thrust—"it". Geralt said this through clenched teeth.

The pain that had consumed you was subsiding, and an overwhelming amount of pleasure replaced it. You couldn’t help the whimpers that fell from your lips.

Geralt moved his hands from your hips to your throat, squeezing lightly. His growls became louder: “The feel of your cunt is astonishing; all mine, all the time, whenever I want."

Mindlessly, you spoke to him. “Yes, all yours whenever you please.” Another moan fell from your lips.

Geralt closed his eyes, trying to control himself before losing control, but you drove him insane with everything about you. His body shook as he felt your walls tighten around his cock. “Fuck..” 

You reached out and wrapped your slender fingers around his wrist as you reached for release. “Yes, come all over my cock. Show me how good I make you feel."

His thumb rubbed across your jaw as he loosed his grip around your neck and bent down to kiss you, this time more softly. Your vibrant red crimson covered his cock from losing the girl you were to becoming a woman.

He carried you to his bed. “For now, rest. I'm going to show you more how you belong to me.”

Taglist: @shellyshellshell @identity2212 @chloe92 @juliaorpll78 @nighttimestan

[fanfiction-library14]

Set me on fire

18+ MINORS DNI Lord Eddard Stark x F!Reader 2.5 k Warnings: P in V sex,, por w/o plot, smut duh, virginity, wedding night, fingering, doggystyle, kind of dom/sub dynamic, Older man / younger woman, as always no proofreading no nothing

ok I had serious Ned Stark brainrot tonight, I needed to write something short and sweet

"Thank you my Lord, for this. For everything. And most importantly, for letting me kiss you, all these weeks ago," Emma said gently as they stepped inside Lord Stark's chamber.

Ned's eyes drank her in when she entered the room, his breath catching a bit at the sight of her gown and her wedding hairdo. She really was a vision, both now and as his wife. The thought of her being his wife now still left him in awe, thinking back to the past weeks... and how long and agonizing they had been.

“I am the one who should be thanking you...” He gave her a wry smile and stood next to the bed, waiting for her to get closer.

Emma giggled and slowly took off her new, Stark cloak. She would not make this - their wedding night - quick and easy for him. "Well, then, I guess that you are welcome. I was afraid that you did not like me at first and wanted me to marry Robb or Bran..."

When her cloak fell onto the ground, Ned's eyes could do nothing but trace the shapes underneath the wedding gown. He would never get enough of her, that much he had realized during all these weeks. All the cold baths in the world wouldn't have done any good.

“I admit I was uncertain at first, Lady Tyrell...,” he mumbled, his eyes still focused on her body.

"Lady Stark now, my Lord. I decided to leave my House in the South for good," She said and slowly took off her veil and took the ribbons out of her hair. She liked to play this slow game of seduction with him. "But now I know why Robb was so... desperate. You were this close to taking me against a tree on the day you had proposed to me."

Ned tried to give her a stern look, but was too distracted by her luscious curls to pull it off. He just couldn't help but imagine how they would look spread out on his pillows....

"I... was in a moment of weakness, Lady Stark.” A smile tugged at his lip as he said 'Lady Stark', the sound of her new name rolling of his tongue pleasantly. “Perhaps I will have to punish you for this insolence...”

"Oh! My Lord..." Emma blushed furiously and tried to erase the image of Ned bending her over his knees, instead gently stepping out of her dress and kicking off her slippers. "If that is my Lord Husbands wish, his command, then who am I to oppose it?"

The sight of her standing there in her stockings and her shift, so beautiful and willing, was enough to make the blood in his body boil and he could do nothing but drink her in with his eyes. He stepped closer to her and started to undo the buttons on his doublet, never once taking his eyes off of her.

“You would be happy to take my punishment... wouldn't you, my girl?”

Using her pet name only between the two of them intensified their intimacy. No one else referred to her as 'my girl' except for him. He used to worry about being judged for marrying someone over ten years his junior, but calling her his girl fueled his passion and desire.

“Yes, my Lord..." she breathed out, biting her bottom lip in anticipation. "I would even offer myself to you... if only you would come closer. But you'd be just as happy to dole it out, wouldn't you?"

Ned's breath was still shallow as she stepped closer to him. “Oh, definitely...” He stepped closer, closing the last of the distance between them and wrapping his arms around her hips, pulling her gently against him. “You have been a very bad girl, you know,” he said in a low voice, before leaning down and placing a kiss on her neck.

"Have I?" Emma whispered and gently untied his breeches, tentatively laying a hand on his hardness. "Tell me, lord Husband, what have I done?"

"You have been teasing me all these weeks, Lady Emma...” he said, burying his face in her neck. “And now, I think, it's my turn to tease you...” He said, before letting go of her and moving towards the large four-poster bed.

Emma was slightly taken aback but smirked as she followed him. He thought he could outsmart her? “Oh, my Lord Husband, I am up for any challenge you might throw at me.” A blush spread over her cheeks, knowing that she was still a maiden and that Ned must’ve had so much more experience, but she decided to squash her nagging thoughts before they could form earnestly.

“As… as long as you are gentle,” she added quietly before letting her shift fall, so that she was left in her thigh-high stockings.

Ned hesitated when she mentioned him being gentle, a twinge of guilt forming at the back of his mind. He had been with other women before, but she would be his second wife... and her first ever. He turned around, looking at her with tenderness in his eyes. “I... I will be as gentle as possible, my girl.” He said, the endearment coming out tenderly as he removed his doublet and breeches, revealing his hardened state.

“I... I trust you, my Lord.” Emma moved closer to their bed, her heart hammering in her chest. “I am yours. I... I know that it might hurt..."

"Shh..." Ned said soothingly, joining her on the bed and pulling her close to him. "I will be as gentle as I can be... but it might still hurt a little at first, I'm afraid." He admitted, toying gently with her hair. "However... after that it's over and I can, well...” He trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid but the smirk on his face said enough.

Emma nodded gently and spat on her hand and guided it to his length, just like she had been told to do and Ned groaned instantly. “Do… do whatever you wish, Ned, I… I trust you,” she whispered with a blush, before she laid down, her curls falling around her pale, freckled, bare skin.

Ned's hands trembled slightly as he traced her body with his fingertips, following the soft contours of her hips and stomach before resting on her thighs. He watched as his wife parted them, giving him access to her most intimate place. He could feel his pulse racing as he looked at her shapely legs and the soft curls between them. The scent of lavender filled his nostrils, mixing with the natural musk of arousal that came from her body. He leaned forward and lightly brushed his lips against her, tasting their combined essence. His hands moved slowly upwards, teasing every inch of her skin as he moved closer to her core.

Emma arched her back, wanting him to touch her more forcefully but she held herself back, knowing he would take the lead. "Please..." she whispered, wanting to beg for him to continue but not wanting to sound like a needy bride.

His fingers circled around her entrance and dipped inside gently, feeling how wet she already was for him. He groaned softly against her skin and slid his middle finger inside her slowly, feeling the tightness that surrounded him. Ned watched as she closed her eyes and bit down on her lip, trying to contain herself. The sounds she made were creating a symphony of pleasure and pain that resonated within him. Her body was warm and inviting, opening up for him slowly as he pressed deeper into her, stretching out those untouched folds.

“You’re mine, only mine… I’ll fill you up with my children… Fuck you over and over, making your pretty, perky tits bounce around…,” he whispered gently into her ears and felt her clenching around his fingers, evidently close to her release, to which he quickly pulled his fingers out and rested them on her hot, sticky mound.

Emma pouted and continued her strokes with her small hand around his cock. “Is… unfair…”

Ned chuckled lightly and kissed her, moaning quietly at the way her hand squeezed him. “You’ve teased me all these weeks, my girl. Be patient…”

He guided his length to her opening and gently pushed inside, feeling the resistance as he entered her for the first time ever. He could feel her tightness around him, like a vice gripping him as he pushed further, inch by agonizingly slow inch. Their breathing was ragged, heated, intertwined with the soft sounds of their moans when he finally buried himself completely within her.

The pain was immense, but Emma bit on her lower lip to not cry out. It hurt so much, more than she thought it would, but she also felt a strange impulse to feel him move inside of her and know that she was now officially his.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Ned panted out and rested his forehead against hers. “I want this to be… special.”

“I… I’m alright... more…” Emma encouraged him softly, before wrapping her legs around him, her inner heat practically screaming for more. “More, my Lord… I can take more. Please…”

It was so lewd, but Ned loved it. Ned loved her, loved her youthful glow,, the way she called him ‘my lord’, her fervour, and most importantly the way her cunny gripped him. “More? My, I haven’t even… started, my girl,” he mumbled and slowly started moving, groaning at the way a beautiful blush spread over Emma’s cheeks and chest.

Emma tightened her legs around him, gripping his waist firmly as he began to move, and she couldn't help but moan his name softly into the dimly lit room. The pain ebbed away, replaced by a different kind of fire, one that she craved more of. His hand found her breasts, cupping them roughly as he continued to thrust into her, taking her virginity boldly, aggressively.

Ned was lost in the moment, somewhere between sanity and reality.

He never thought this day would come, that he would be here, with her, on their wedding night, consummating their marriage. But here they were and he couldn't be happier. The feel of her walls clenching around him sent jolts of pleasure through his body and he knew that their children would feel at home here. He would fill her up so much that she wouldn't want any other man but him. He would show any- and everyone that she was his. Ned groaned, picking up the speed as Emma arched her back more for him to take.

Her nails dug into his back as she clung to him for dear life, feeling herself on the brink of something monumental. "Ned... I... I'm close," she panted out breathlessly before he claimed her mouth once more in a messy kiss. He angled her hips upwards just a little bit more and hit a spot within her that made her see stars behind her closed lids.

"There we go… there... just like that… come for me, my girl…," Ned encouraged her and gently laid his thumb on her impossibly soft, warm pearl, stroking it gently while continuing to hammer up into her. “My beautiful… beautiful…. girl….”

She saw stars.

Emma tensed up and tried her best not to scream too loudly, but with the new, added stimulation, it was hard not to. Though not long after this blissful feeling had subsided, Ned pulled out of her and gently turned her around and pulled her up onto her elbows and knees, gently spreading her buttocks up for him to admire. Not long after, she felt the familiar heat against her entrance, though he waited. A gentle, yet hard slap against her arse pulled her out of her reverie.

“Fuck, you’re so tight…”, Ned whispered as he slowly pushed himself inside her, trying not to come too quickly. Her buttocks wiggled too beautifully, to perfectly against him - it was perfect agony. “M-may I?”, he asked quietly as he wrapped his hand around her throat, but her broad smile and small nod answered his question for him.

“Yes, please… I-I want… more,” Emma moaned out, feeling him hit places she didn’t know even existed, yet she wanted more and more of him. “Fill me up…”

And so, he gave her more - rough, explosive thrusts that had them both moaning and gasping for air. His hand tightened around her neck gently, not enough to asphyxiate but just enough to create a heady rush of pleasure and power.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her back, slamming himself into her over and over again, his grip on her neck tightening with each thrust. The mattress creaked from their vigorous mating, but they didn't care. All she could feel was him, all he could think of was her as they both rode each other to completion.

Ned came first, with a roar, spilling his seed deep inside her womb. Emma felt every drop of his warmth escaping into her and knew this was it. This was where she belonged - with him, in their bed. She followed suit moments later, screaming out loud as her walls clenched around him and she experienced her second orgasm of the night - mind-blowing and earth-shattering. Her legs trembled as she tried to regain control of herself, breathing heavily against the pillow.

Ned carefully pulled out of her and laid next to her, not quite ready to let go of her just yet. He gently wiped the sweat off her brow and kissed every inch of skin he possibly could before resting his head on the crook of her neck.

"I love you..," he whispered softly in her ear.

Panting heavily, Ned lowered himself down to rest his forehead against her head once more, still buried deep inside of her. Their heartbeats drummed in unison. "Welcome to our wedding night," he breathed out between kisses on her neck. He pulled out slowly, watching as a small pool of blood formed where he'd taken her virginity. It was both beautiful and terrifying in its own way, knowing that this moment would forever be etched into their shared history.

As he moved to lay beside her, he grabbed a damp cloth from the bedside table and cleaned them both up gently before tugging a fur over their naked forms.

The air was cool against their now heated skin as Ned held Emma close to him, his chest rising and falling steadily with each breath. "You did well today, my girl. You were perfect, just like I knew you would be.”

Emma hummed and snuggled closer to Ned. “Thank you. Let us hope that I can give you a pup soon.”

Blushing, Ned pressed another kiss on her head. “I… yes. Of course.” He did not regret marrying her, he thought retrospectively, and gently held his small wife up against his chest. “As many as you want.”

[fanfiction-library14]

Masterlist

Last updated: 7/9/23

All works are 18+, f/m, smutty one-shots

Stranger Things - Jim "Chief" Hopper

Taking Control

The Getaway

Behind Closed Doors

Coming Home

Saturdays

Between Us

A Little Patience

The Last of Us - Joel Miller

Another Round

Attention

Knifepoint

Moon Knight (tv) - Steven Grant

Sick Day

Black Widow (movie) - Alexei Shostakov (David Harbour)

Seeing Red

Triple Frontier - Santiago 'Pope' Garcia

Heat Wave

Criminal Minds - Matt Simmons

Slow Heat

Succession - Kendall Roy

Blurred Lines pt 1

Blurred Lines pt 2

[fanfiction-library14]

Inescapable

Kinktober Day 1: Dom/sub

Summary:

(Inspired by Dress by Taylor Swift) Dean, Cas, and Sam go on a small local ghost hunt while you stay at home. While you get the bunker prepared for them to come home, you can't stop thinking about your dom. Dean specifically ordered you to not be thinking of him while he's gone, but you can't help it. You miss him, and when he gets home, you think you'll show him just how much.

Words: 3,919

Kinks: Dom/sub, Rope play, light degradation, teasing, spanking, punishment

Relationship: Dom Dean/Sub Fem Reader

Content/Trigger Warnings: mentions of sexual assault (only in the first paragraph), mentions of a knife, smut, cunnilingus, p in v sex, fingering, dominant dean winchester

Notes: Read here on ao3! Full Kinktober Masterlist. I hope you enjoy :)

Dean. Cas, and Sam left Friday evening for a ghost hunt. Apparently, Old Man Milton only comes back once every 7 years on his daughter’s birthday to kill young men that sexually assault or harass young women. His daughter died by a violent sexual assault and was found in the basement of a fraternity house. He searched for the boy that did it to her, but the college covered it up. Now, he’s coming back for justice. You told Dean that they shouldn’t do anything. If it were your hunt, you would have left it alone. Those guys deserved to die, in your opinion. And maybe that makes you a bad person, but honestly, you’ve literally been to hell and back. You don’t really care if wishing a painful death on rapists is a bad thing. 

The only reason you didn’t attend this hunt with the boys is because the whole topic was just a little too triggering for you. Dean suggested you stay home, and Cas agreed that the emotional trauma it brought up wouldn’t be worth getting rid of the ghost. Sam offered to stay home with you, but Cas isn’t the best hunting partner when it comes to these small hunts. So, Dean asked if you’d be alright and insisted that Sam come with him. Cas is always one call away if you need anything, and you know that. 

On Sunday morning, you get ready to start your day with brushing your hair, doing your makeup, and picking out an outfit. You don’t have much to choose from, because it’s laundry day you’re washing all of the boys clothes along with yours. It’s kind of annoying that they expect you to do their laundry, and you pointed out once that you thought it was misogynistic to expect the only woman in the home to do laundry. But Dean came back with the argument that you were only doing laundry when they were out on a hunt without you. If they were the one staying home, they would do the laundry and you wouldn’t mind. Sam offered to do his own, but it didn’t actually bother you too much. You think that Dean’s just saying it to get you to do it, but you let them have it because he said it with a really cute face and puppy dog eyes. And they do so much for you that doing some laundry or cooking a meal isn’t going to kill you. You don’t exactly like falling into gender roles, but something about them being so appreciative every Sunday night when you make dinner and have them change into clean clothes is so sweet. 

So, you pick out your outfit: a pair of jeans and one of Dean’s flannels because it’s the only thing that smells like him, but doesn’t have blood on it. You take his load to the wash first, because you know when he gets home, you’ll make him change into clean clothes. You put on some music first. You listen to a lot of Led Zeppelin while he’s gone because it reminds you of him. Before he left, as always, he told you not to think of him too much. In a normal relationship, that would be sweet. A request. But in yours and Dean‘s relationship, it was a demand. Every hunt he went on scared you, every time he left the bunker, a chill ran down your spine. You wondered if you would ever see him again. You try not to think like that, and he demands you don’t think of him at all. You don’t listen. You never do. He knows this, and he’ll punish you when he gets home. That’s sometimes why you think of him. You enjoy the punishment. It’s nice when he takes control when he gets home. 

You finish putting his clothes in the laundry and go to the kitchen to prepare dinner for when they get home. It’s your week to prepare dinner on Sunday night. Every Sunday, you make everyone have a family meal at a table. Hunters don’t get to have a normal life, so this is as normal as it gets for you. You don’t have long before they get back, so you pull out all of the necessary ingredients and set them on the counter. Normally, you’d also be doing some research while they were gone. But this hunt specifically was one that lacked research and needed more gumption than Dean could ever gather. As you’re swaying to the music in the kitchen, the song “Dress” by Taylor Swift plays through your phone speaker. This song reminds you of Dean, but in a way that’s more playful than sexy. He likes Taylor Swift, your favorite artist, but he won’t admit it. Sometimes, you catch him listening to her in the shower, but he thinks you don’t know. Sometimes, you see him adding a song of hers to his playlist. As the lyrics ring through your head this time around, you can’t help but think about how teasing it would be for Dean to come home to tear your clothes off. He always requests that when he gets home, you are in bed with no clothes. You enjoy this usually, but tonight you’re feeling a little extra. 

You prepare the food, so all you have to do is cook them. You make homemade burger patties that need to chill, sourdough bread that needs to chill to make buns, and a pastry crust for the pie. You clean up and grab your keys. Before Bobby passed, he built up a car for you out of some old parts. It was a crap car, but it barely cost you. Bobby had a soft spot for you, so he would fix the car up for you anytime it broke down or something happened. Unfortunately, when he died, you had nobody to fix up your car. It was just your luck that you remembered meeting Dean Winchester, a friend of Bobby’s, a few years back. He and his brother were well known hunters, so you didn’t think he would have the time to help. But any shop would tell you that the car was more to fix than it was actually worth. They said it was unsafe and shouldn’t be driven. They didn’t have the memories you had with that car though. So you gave him a call, and you were lucky that he was in the next town over just finishing up a case. You two haven’t left each other alone since. 

You head toward a town close by to find exactly what you are looking for. You stop into a few stores before you find exactly what you wanted. A short, white sundress, complete with a cherry print scattered across the fabric. You check the price tag because unlike other hunters, you try to earn honest money when you can. You save as much as you can and invest some of it. The dress is on sale, which just lets you know it’s meant to be. 

You check out and head back to the bunker to get ready and prepare dinner. When you walk inside, you hear a ding on your phone. You pull it from your pocket to see a text from Dean. 

We’re on our way home, Sweetheart. About an hour out. Be ready. - DW

It’s funny that he signs his initials with every text, but it’s his thing. It’s how you know it’s really him. He told you to be ready, but you should really be the one telling him to be ready….

Yes, sir. 

You go to the kitchen and begin cooking the burgers. Cas doesn’t have an appetite, but he still sits at the table with us. He always compliments the food, even though he doesn’t actually eat it. His description of food is that it “all tastes like molecules” to him. But nevertheless, Sam and Dean still enjoy it when you cook. After the burgers are cooked, you put them on a pan to keep warm and take out the dough. You make some rolls and put them on a pan to bake. The pie will cook while you’re eating, so you go ahead and head toward your bedroom to change. 

You put on your new dress and put your hair up with some loose curls falling down. You touch up your makeup a little bit and add some red lipstick. It’s Dean’s favorite and it matches your dress perfectly. You spray on some Tom Ford’s “Lost Cherry” and make your way back to the kitchen. You check your watch and see that it will be about half an hour until they get home, which is perfect timing to go ahead and put in the rolls and start preparing the pie. 

Soon, the whole bunker smells like fresh bread and sweet, cherry pie. You put all of the clean laundry in the rooms. You set the table with a whiskey glass in front of both Dean and Sam’s seats and a courtesy glass of water in Castiel’s spot. You put a wine glass in front of your seat, and pull out the rolls to replace them with the cherry pie. You take out all the extra condiments for the burgers and put the sides on the table. The locks of the bunker do a familiar click, and you know it’s game on. You hear the low chatter of the boys discussing the familiar scent wafting from the kitchen. 

Sam walks in and sees the set table. He waves the other guys into the kitchen. 

“Is it Sunday already? Man, I’m hungry!” Sam goes to pull out a chair before your hand catches his. 

“You boys go wash up first. I don’t want blood and sulfur at my dinner table. Your clothes are in your rooms. Dinner in 5.” You smile and pat his hand. He laughs a little before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and squeezing a little bit. You smack his chest gently, and he laughs and saunters off to change. Dean’s heated gaze is focused on your legs, or more importantly, how much of them he can see. Your apron falls below your dress, and when you’re turned to the side, he can see that your dress barely covers your ass. He groans low to himself and raises his eyes to meet yours. Cas speaks up. 

“Thank you for putting together dinner. I appreciate it.” He smiles awkwardly before the dirt and blood disappears from his outfit. He hangs his overcoat on the rack in the corner and then settles into his spot. Dean’s gaze hasn’t left you, and you know exactly why. 

“All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation.” 

“Something wrong, love?” You ask with your most precious voice. You know he won’t say anything in front of Cas. He treats him like a toddler, his child that he must watch over. It’s adorable, but at the same time, he watches himself around Cas. He doesn't want him repeating things. Dean doesn’t reply, but his face looks pained. You smile and wave him off to his room to get changed. He obliges, but you can see the tension in his back as he walks away. 

“Dean seems stressed. We got rid of the ghost. Why is he upset?” Cas asks you as you make Sam’s plate. 

“Because his wife is his wildest dream, and he’s mad he has to eat dinner first.” Sam laughs as he walks out in fresh clothes. He sits at the table and smiles up at you. “I mean seriously, come on, he came home to his wife dressed up with his favorite dinner made and pie in the oven.”

“But why would that stress him out? Shouldn’t he be happy that he has the terribly domestic life he wished for?” Cas asks as you plate the food in front of him. He won’t eat it, but he likes to have a plate to feel involved.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean walks to the table, “can you three stop talking about me like I ain’t here? I am not stressed. I am exhausted from a three day long hunt. Now, let’s eat. I’m starving.” Dean’s gaze shoots up at you as he sits down. You plate his food next, and then, your own. You sit down and everyone eats in silence. 

The conversation starts flowing once everyone starts getting full, and then, it’s time to take out the pie. You head over to the oven, which is right next to Dean’s seat, and bend down to get the pie out. Your dress rides up right next to him, so he can see your cunt soaking your white lace underwear. He groans and attempts to cover it up with a cough. You chuckle a little to yourself and set the pie down on the table. You take the boys plates and put them in the sink. 

“Sam, don’t forget. It’s your day to do dishes.” You nudge his shoulder. You set out more plates and serve up the cherry pie to Dean and onto your own plate. You are on one side of Dean, so you scoop up Sam’s piece and lean over Dean to place the pie on Sam’s plate. Sam shakes his head and chuckles to himself before digging in. Cas wanders off to the library. You sit back in your seat and take a bite of your pie. Some of the cherry juice drips off of your lip and onto your chest, where Dean’s gaze falls. You swipe your finger across the juice and stick it into your mouth. Your eyes close in ecstasy, and you make a small noise of happiness. Dean has yet another cough, and you open your eyes to watch him. He hasn’t even touched his pie.

“Dean, you haven’t touched your pie?” You ask him sweetly.

“Dude, it’s delicious. You picked the right woman.” Sam says as he goes back for seconds.

Dean nods his head and picks up his fork with shaking hands. 

“My hands are shaking from holding back from you.”

You all continue to eat before you both hand your plates to Sam to wash. You bid goodnight to Sam and Cas before heading to your room with Dean hot on your heels. You barely make it through the door before he catches your wrist in his hand and closes the door behind him with his foot.

“You disobeyed me.” He states. His eyes pierce yours with pure lust and determination.

“I made dinner.” You counter, reminding him that it was your week to make dinner.

“You know the rules, sweetheart. You know what happens when you break the rules.” A glint appears in his eyes, and suddenly, he begins walking toward you slowly. The backs of your knees hit the bed, and you fall backward onto the soft cushioning. “Tell me what happens when you break the rules, love.” His voice commands. 

“I get punished, sir.” You let out with a bit of excitement. 

“Oh, were you looking forward to this?” He chuckles deeply, “Of course you were. My pretty little slut loves it when I show her who she belongs to and where her place is.” 

“Yes, sir.” You nod your head and raise your hips toward him as he climbs in between your legs.

“Oh, do you want me to touch you?” 

“Please touch me.” You ask, waiting for his touch. 

He chuckles deeply again before pulling his knife from his pocket. You back up a little before his hand comes to the back of your neck to keep you in place. 

“Don’t run away from me, sweetheart. You just asked me to touch you.” His smirk says it all. “Do you remember your safeword?” He asks in your ear. 

“Yes. Cherries.” You giggle a little at the word and how significant it’s made itself today.

“That’s my good girl.” He says as he places the knife down on the nightstand next to your head. “Sit up.” 

You sit up quickly and wait for your next instruction. You don’t always have such an intense dynamic, but you both need intense when you’ve been apart for a while. 

“Over my knee.” You shiver at his words, but do as you are told. He lifts the skirt of your dress and rubs over the smooth skin of your ass. 

“How many do you think you deserve, darling?” He says to you as he runs his finger over the lacy fabric of your underwear. 

“I don’t know, sir.” You say to him while you try to grind your hips into his legs. He lays a smack on your ass, leaving a stinging feeling. 

“I think ten is fair. Two for thinking of me while I was gone, four for wearing this slutty little dress, two for teasing me at dinner, and two for grinding yourself against my leg.” You shiver again and nod your head in response. He lifts your chin and gets down in front of your face. 

“Words.” He whispers and bites your lip. 

“Yes, sir.” You bow your head as he lets go. His fingers travel downward until he reaches the soaking spot in the center of your underwear and presses in. 

“Oh, your pretty hole is so wet for me. I can’t wait to use you.” You whine as he retracts his hand. 

“Don’t make a sound or I start over. Got it?” He grabs a fistful of your hair as he speaks to you. 

“Yes, sir.” 

He lays the first smack and your body jumps in response. You feel your hole squeeze the nothingness. You know you’re in for it, and you just hope that he’ll have mercy on you and touch you soon. 

“Nine more.” You breathe in slowly, preparing yourself for nine more. 

Smack. You just want him to touch you. 

Smack. You’re getting desperate. 

Smack. Soon, you’re going to start begging. 

Smack. You don’t know if you can handle more.

Smack. It feels so good, but it hurts. 

Smack. Almost there. 

Smack. You’re going to come. 

“I know I don’t feel you grinding on my leg, do I sweetheart?” He chuckles before laying two smacks back to back. You let out a sound that is a cross between a moan and a cry. 

“Tsk tsk, what did I tell you about making sounds?” He asks you gently. 

“We- would have to start over.” You whine. “Please Dean, don’t make me.” You beg. 

“What did you just call me?” His hand wraps itself around the back of your neck and pulls you toward him.

“I’m sorry, sir.” You look up at him with pleading eyes. He looks back at you with pure satisfaction. You can feel his cock that's been growing beneath you this whole time twitch at the sight of you. 

“Two more.” He says, and he means it. You groan lightly, and you hear his light laugh at you. 

One. It stings, but he was more gentle than before. 

Two. That one is going to leave a mark. 

“Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo.” 

“Good girl. Sit up.” He helps you forward and reaches beneath the bed. He grabs two pieces of rope that you don’t remember putting there. He smiles mischievously when he sees your confusion and scoots you up the bed. “Arms.” 

You put your arms up and he ties each arm to the holes in the headboard. That is not what you were expecting, but you aren’t complaining. That is, until he rips your dress off of your body straight down the middle. 

“I only bought this dress so you could take it off.” 

“Dean! That dress was new.” You look at him with shock. 

“Well, I hope it wasn’t expensive.” He smirks a bit before dragging your underwear down your legs. 

“Please.” You push your hips up to him. 

“Please what?” He asks, his breath grazing over your slick cunt. 

“Please touch me.” You ask. 

“My pathetic little slut wants me to touch her pretty cunt? You want me to lick your pretty clit?” He spreads you apart until you’re completely exposed to him and glistening in the dim bunker light. 

“Yes, sir.” 

And that’s when he takes his change to shove his tongue deep inside your hole. He fucks you with his tongue, occasionally slipping his tongue out of your hole and circling around your clit. You can feel yourself squeezing around his tongue. His scruff scratches the inside of your thighs, and you just want to tangle your fingers in his hair. He flicks your clit quickly and shoves a finger inside of you. 

“Is this what you wanted, baby?” He asks as he continues to hit that sweet spot inside of you. His tongue feels so good as he continues his gentle assault on your clit. He moves in quick circles. Every now and then, he sucks your clit into his mouth. He slows his fingers and fucks you slow and hard. You like it like this, feeling every bit of him. His fingers curl up inside you to rub on that spot. 

“Fuck.” You can’t help the sounds that come from your chest. 

“You’re so fucking sexy, baby. See, this is what good girls get when they behave.” He taunts you, moving his thumb to your clit and his mouth to your sensitive nipples. 

You start riding his fingers harder, chasing the orgasm that his fingers are promising you. You close your eyes in pleasure. 

“Look at me, sweetheart. I want you to see me when you come.” He says, watching your every emotion. He switches out his fingers for his thick cock. He rubs the tip against your sensitive clit and has you whining for it. He pushes into you slowly, but that’s the only time he’s slow about it. He rams into you and fucks you hard. He is relentless and merciless. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, only I can make you make those sounds.” He whispers in your ear. Your arms pull against the ropes, but you’re unsuccessful at breaking them. You buck your hips toward him as you chase your orgasm. He starts rubbing your clit, and you feel it coming on. 

“Come for me.” He whispers in your ear as you let loose the orgasm that's been building inside of you. Your legs shake a bit and your back arches off of the bed. 

“Good girl.” He says as he slips his cock out and pumps it a few more times before rolling his head back and letting out a groan as he comes on your stomach. You love watching him come at the sight of you. 

He reaches forward to the nightstand next to you and grabs the knife. You look at him with confusion until he leans forward to your wrist. You realize he’s going to cut you out of the rope. You hear a scratching noise and attempt to look above you, but you can’t see. Suddenly, he cuts both of the ropes and lets your arms free. You rub your wrists and turn to see what he was doing. On your headboard, there is freshly engraved statement: 

Property of D.W. 

“Carve your name into my bedpost.”  

You put on a shirt of his and snuggle into your bed with him. He cuts the lights out, and as you’re drifting off to sleep, you swear you hear him singing Dress by Taylor Swift. 

[fanfiction-library14]

Stress Reliever - John Winchester (18+)

Pairing: John Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: You and John have been working really hard lately, while you would rather rest, John wanted to start a hunt after finishing one. What’s the best stress reliever? Sex.

Warnings: Smut, Riding, Ass Grabbing, Unprotected Sex, Cussing, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 2,647

Note: I wrote this about 2017 and finally touched up my old stories. Thank you @dirtysupernaturalimagines for letting me use their imagines and make them into full stories!

The strong wind nearly ripped off the door from the hinges of John’s black pickup truck as you opened it. The harsh wind blew wildly, shaking tree branches harshly, threatening them to snap. The dark clouds were traveling into the small town that you and John decided to stay at, casting the sun’s beautiful ray into the darkness. The one thing you hated about the Midwest was the harsh spring storms. 

John must have heard your mumble complaints and whines as he spoke up. “The faster we grab our bags the faster we get into the motel room before this storm hits.” John shut his door and opened up the back to gather his bags.

You shivered slightly as the cool wind hit you again, climbing into the tall pick up truck and retrieving your bag that’s full of clothes and knives. John shut the back driver door as he slugged his bag over his shoulder, you both made your way to the motel door. It wasn’t anything fancy, like always but it had four walls and a roof. John slipped the card in and pulled it out quickly and jiggled the knob.

“You gotta be fucking kidding.” He hissed and slipped the slim card in and pulled it out too quickly once again. The light flashed red to show it was still locked. “He gave us the wrong card key.” He snarled. Thunder rumbled in the distance stating that any moment now it was about to rain.

You sighed heavily, your back ached from the long day you had and now the heavy bag hanging off your shoulder. “You’re doing it too fast.” You finally told him as he tried it again, red light blinking. Reaching out and grabbing the card, your fingers brushed up against his rough ones. You slid the plastic card into the slot and gently gilded it out. The light flashed green and the locked clink, a sign that the door unlocked. 

John grumbled under his breath and roughly turned the knob and shoved the door open so hard that the door knob on the other side hit the white wall roughly. He didn’t even address it, he walked into the dark hotel room flickering the lights on. The room was neat but small. It had a desk, box television that probably held only three channels, a small dresser with lamps on it, between the two twin size beds.

As you walked into the room and shut the door lightning flashed and thunder boomed in the sky, heavy rain drops started coming down beating against the window of the room. You placed your heavy traveling bag on to the bed closest to the wall, where John got the bed closest to the desk. “I’m gonna take a shower.” You said, jamming your thumb over your shoulder towards the bathroom behind you.

The older man grunted in response as he sat in the wooden chair and pulled out his books and journal. Your eyes flickered towards the worn out book, John was sketching and writing in no time, most likely about the recent hunt that you both finished. You unzipped your bag and grabbed your pajamas from the black carrier. Sighing heavily and tiredly you shuffled your way towards the bathroom.

Once the door shut and locked you turned the knobs of the shower making water sputter out from the old fossett. As the water was running to become the right temperature for your body, you stared at the mirror as you undressed. Old scars that were nearly healed littered all over your body and some new scars were still healing. 

One particular faded scar pointed out the most, a bullet hole in your shoulder. Your fingers grazed against the knotted flesh, hissing softly as the memory hit you like a brick.

“I told you to fucking move.” John snarled as he cracked open a bottle of whiskey. 

“He was going to shoot you and guess what, he did!” You gritted your teeth, holding onto your bleeding shoulder with a clean bullet hole coming into your shoulder and out the other side.

John tossed the lid of the cap on the floor. “Stupid girl. I can handle myself.” John sat next to you, tripping your short sleeve shirt with one tear, exposing the fresh wound. 

You didn’t know what to say, you knew John could handle himself but you couldn’t see him going through this pain, he already has gone through so much and you also really wanted to impress him tonight too. Dean, your long time friend suggested that you should take a few trips with his dad, learn the ropes and new things. You were excited, John on the other hand wasn’t too thrilled to have a ‘sidekick’. “Shut up.” You mumbled, not knowing what else to say.

You wanted John stand up and started to undo his belt, your eyes slightly widen at the sight of him and your eyes glued to his crotch area, you quickly looked away only to look back in between his legs. “What- What are you.” 

John folded his leather belt in half and placed it towards your face. “Open.” You opened your mouth as he shoved the belt horizontally in your mouth. “Bite.” 

You sunk your teeth down on the leather, holding it tightly. 

“This is going to hurt.” He sighed and without giving you a warning he doused the whiskey all over your shoulder before sewing the hole shut. 

Werewolves, vampires and ghouls weren’t the only dangerous things out in the dark. After having a successful first ever mission with John Winchester, the legend that all hunters spoke about, some coked up addict decided to rob you after leaving a bar from a salt and burn. You knew the tweaker was trigger happy and once you saw his eyes pure dilated and wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer you quickly jumped in front of John as the bullet left the gun.

No one really mentioned how hunting monsters would put so much damage on your body, but then again no one really talked about mental health in this life. The only ‘medication’ was a beer in one hand and a shotgun in the other killing or drinking away your frustrations. 

As the mirror fogged up, you turned away from your reflection and entered the shower, hissing softly as the hot water ran down your achy body. You stood there, watching the dirty water wash down the drain. As you soaked in the water you finally fully scrubbed your hair and body, washing off the dried blood from the creature you killed today. 

Fully washed and refreshed you turned the water off and wrapped a white towel around your body, the towel barely covered your thighs. Drawing back the curtain and stepping out you dried off your body and put on fluffy pajama pants with a white tank top with a built-in bra.

You walked out of the bathroom, you rustled the damp towel against your wet hair, trying to dry it as best as you could before going to bed.

“Yeah Bobby,“ You heard a rough voice talk. "Okay, thanks again.” You saw John still sitting in the wooden chair, doing research of what it looks to be another case. 

Frowning, you walked towards him. His dark hair stuck every which way as he ran his thick fingers through it at times. His eyes skimmed through the pages of the book that was on his lap. His right hand rubbing his salt and pepper beard as his wet tongue darted out on his dried lips.

"You can go to bed, I got this.“ His voice was the reason you snapped out of your hypnotic stare, the things he could do with his tongue… Quickly shaking your head to snap out of your thoughts you frowned down at him.

"John, you really need sleep.” You said.

"I’m working on a case and it’s not too far from here.” He mumbled through his hand as his elbow was on the chair rest with his chin resting on his hand hiding his mouth.

"But we just finished one.” You pouted, you wanted him to rest. He was just running on booze and adrenaline, it wasn’t healthy for a man his age. Sighing heavily you run your fingers through your somewhat dried and tangled hair.

"I know.“ He snapped which startled you. "I know.” He said a bit softer, barely a whisper.

Silence filled the small hotel room. “John, you really need sleep.” You whispered, approaching the man. Your hands resting on his shoulders. You felt himself tense underneath your touch. “Relax John.” You muttered and moved your thumbs in a circular motion on his shoulder blades.

"You've got knots.” You told him as you started rubbing the crook of his neck trying to loosen up his tight muscles. You heard a sigh of relief escaping his perfect lips. He tilted his head back a bit, getting more relaxed and used to your touch.

"Your fingers work like magic.” He groaned. His words made you smile, you leaned down digging your elbow into his shoulder-blade realizing that your fingers weren’t going to do much. He grunted lowly at the new pressure. Your hot breath hitting the back of his neck, making him get goosebumps.

"Sorry, just trying to get you relaxed.“ You murmured the confession to him.

You pulled away from him and ran your fingers through his hair, you couldn’t help yourself, only for you to quickly pull away after hearing a soft moan escape his lips. "Sorry.” You said softly, fully pulling your hands away from him. "Alright, well I’m going to bed and you should too.“ You said softly and looked at the book he moved off of his lap. 

Your face became bright red at the sight of his pants tighter and a bulge in his blue jeans. He must have noticed your expression because he immediately grabbed the book and placed it right back on his lap.

"It’s just… I haven’t had a woman's touch in awhile.” He sighed heavily. You watched him look down at the book you couldn’t help but step closer to him. Your hands going back on to his shoulders and rubbing them, your left hand trailing down to his chest, his breath hitched in his throat.

"W- What are you doing, Y/N?” He questioned. You smirked softly as your hand trailed down to his jeans.

"I’m giving you a massage.” You said innocently, turning your head towards him with a sly smile your lips started to kiss his scruffy neck. A low growl escaped his throat as you brought your lips to his ear. “Is that okay?” Your hot breath hit against the shell of his ear making him shiver.

"Y/N” He began in a groan as your hand placed over the bulge in his pants, grinding your hand against it. “You really don’t want an old man like myself.” His head tilted back on the chair, giving you more access to his neck. 

“Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?“ You questioned with a pout. "Now come on.” You helped him out of the chair with a smile. “Let’s get you taken care of.” You giggled and started to fiddle with his black belt around his waist. You unbuckled it and tugged his pants down. You took off your shirt while he kicked out of his blue jeans.

Once your shirt was over your head and tossed somewhere on the ground you saw the oldest Winchester only in his black boxers. You smiled softly, he walked up to you and picked you up, placing you down gently on the springy bed.

His long fingers grabbing the hem of your fluffy pants and tugging them down your smooth legs along with your panties. He smirked up at you and kissed your hip softly.

"I’m supposed to take care of you.” You gasped out, making him chuckle lowly.

"Alright, alright.” He said crawling up towards you and soon rolling over, you on top. “Show me what you're made of, baby.” He chuckled deeply. Pushing his boxers down his legs his erected cock sprung up hitting against his stomach.

John soon groaned lowly as you rolled your hips against him. “Fucking tease.” He muttered and bucked his hips up.

"That’s nothing.” You giggled out and grabbed his thick length and guided it towards your wet entrance. Slowly sliding down on him only putting his head in and soon rising up pulling him out, just letting the tip rest inside of you. He growled, his brown eyes dark and full of lust.

"You better take me before I flip us over and pound my cock in you.” He demanded which made goosebumps rise on your skin, you’ve never heard John like this and it made you go feral. Slowly sliding all the way down his hard erection you couldn’t help but to tilt your head back moaning in pure bliss.

"That’s a good girl.“ He mumbled while rubbing your hips, it was all just too much. With each movement your breasts bounced. "Now that’s what I like to see.” He smirked, eyeing your breasts, making you blush as he cupped your breasts, the pad of his thumbs going over your hardening nipples.

You raise up slowly and push back down on his cock, letting out cute moans. Soon enough your walls were clenching around him as you were now bouncing on him. John let out a few grunts and moans, while you were clawing at his chest and shoulders for balance.

His hands left your breasts slowly going behind and gripping your ass. Gasping loudly as one of his hands came slapping down on your cheek making it bright red. “Y- You know I bruise easily.” You squealed out as he gripped the stinging red flesh.

"Well then, you’re gonna be covered in bruises when I’m done with you.“ He chuckled softly and bucked his hips up into you, hitting your g-spot. Each time John pulled you down on his cock he would grab your ass and slightly spread your cheeks, making you moan loudly at the feeling of him opening you up.

“John!” You cried out, meeting with his thrusts, bouncing harder on his cock, the springy bed that possibly was in the same situation a few nights ago started to squeak. "I- I’m going to come.” You warned him.

"Oh already?” John teased. “We just started.” One hand left your ass and was on your sensitive clit. Crying out loudly soon took you over the edge. Your walls tightened around his cock, coming undone within seconds. John gripped your ass and planted his feet up on the bed.

"Hold on baby.” He demanded and slammed his hips up roughly that made you collapse, your chest up against his, your face buried into his neck trying to muffle your moans as his cock was drilling into you, loud squelching sounds erupted throughout the room each time his cock penetrated you. You moaned loudly as his cock twitched up against sensitive areas in your pussy that you didn’t know existed.

Soon enough his cock spurting out come, covering your walls. You cried out loudly as he thrust his cock in and out, pushing his come deeper into you.

Panting heavily you slowly slid off him, cuddling up against him. “No use of getting a double-bedded room.” You giggled softly looking over to see the other bed untouched and still neatly made. Soon enough there was a pounding on the other side of the wall.

"Will you two give it a rest!?“ The person in the other room shouted.

Which only made John smirk widely and rolled on top of you. "I think they wanna encore.” He chuckled deeply and planted a soft kiss on your lips.

[fanfiction-library14]

Sinner's Salvation: Chapter 2 (Ed Warren x Reader)

Masterlist Ao3

Summary:

[Ed Warren x Female Reader] [Ed Warren x You] You don't believe in the supernatural and superstition. Witchcraft and demonic occurrences are nothing but quackery to you. But when the room starts spinning, days start blurring into each other and shadows start dancing in every corner you wonder what is wrong with you. No doctor can tell you more about your condition - each and every one is insisting that you are fine and perfectly healthy.  Seeking alternative help, you stumble across Ed and Lorraine Warren.  They promise to help you, rid you of the demon that has taken hold of you - to drive it out. But you didn’t know what you signed up for and what an exorcism by Ed Warren entails.  OR: Ed shows you how well he can possess your body - and your cunt

Wordcount: 12055

Chapter: 2/2 (Chapter 1)

Warnings: 18+, fingering, facefucking, unprotected sex, cream pie, breeding, dubious consent, spanking, improper use of catholic rituals, church sex, rough oral sex

A/N: Well, that’s my ticket to hell for defiling church stuff - if my soul can be saved I’d happily let Patrick Wilson exorcise me

Previous Chapter

CHAPTER 2

A weight settles in your chest as you gaze upon the imposing facade of the Warrens’ house. It feels surreal, as if the reality of being here now is a fragile dream.

In the glow of a well-lit yard, your attention is drawn to a chicken coop, complete with a nestled henhouse and a bustling assembly of a dozen or so chickens. The surroundings reveal a sizable and inviting house, adorned with the quaint charm of a small chapel adjacent to the garden.

After a moment’s hesitation, you press the doorbell, the sound resonating through the stillness. A few heartbeats later, Lorraine swings the door open, a beacon of warmth and smiles. A radiant figure framed by the doorway, her eyes alight with a newfound calmness that seems to have settled since the lecture. The weight of the outside world appears to have dissipated, replaced by a sense of ease that only home can bring. Her long brown hair cascades freely around her shoulders, a tangible reflection of the comfort found within these walls.

“Hey there! You made it,” Lorraine exclaims, her voice filled with genuine enthusiasm.

“Yeah, it’s... it’s really something,” you reply, still taking in the grandeur of the place as you try to calm your nerves.

Lorraine chuckles, seeing right through you: “Well, come on in, Ed’s waiting inside! I’ve got some fresh tea ready in the kitchen.”

The creaking wooden floor beneath your feet echoes when you step over the threshold. The air carries a timeless quality, and the scent of well-maintained woodwork envelops you, adding to the charm of the old house.

Glancing around, you observe the meticulous care evident in every nook and cranny. The cleanliness of the space speaks of dedicated upkeep, preserving the essence of the dwelling. The walls are adorned with a collection of pictures and paintings.

Upon closer inspection, you discover that the signature on each painting reads Ed Warren.

Lorraine notices your intrigued gaze and smiles, “Ed loves to capture moments and emotions on canvas.”

The images and brushstrokes weave a narrative of the Warrens’ interests, adding depth to the character of the house. Each stroke of the brush tells a story, and within the confines of those well-kept walls, and you can’t help but imagine Ed sitting in his studio, painting for hours. Would his brow furrow in concentration as his big hands paint such delicate things?

Lorraine leads you into the kitchen and you sense Ed’s gaze on you before you actually see him. Turning around, you find him seated at the kitchen table, a newspaper in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. His gaze is studying you intensely, magnified by the large glasses that obscure his eyes.

His eyes, perceptive and playful, travel down the length of your body before meeting your eyes again, a playful smirk gracing his full lips. The gesture leaves you flustered and shortly rendered breathless.

The room seems to grow warmer as you become acutely aware that Lorraine is watching your interaction, her keen eyes capturing the nuances of the unfolding situation.

Lorraine, her face still reflecting worry, chimes in: “We’ve been looking forward to having you here. Is everything all right? You seem a bit off.”

You attempt a reassuring smile: “Just a headache, nothing major. Must be the change in weather.”

But even as the words leave your lips, you sense they see through the facade.

“Well, we can't have our guest in distress. Perhaps a cup of tea will help ease that headache. Come, sit down”, Ed, ever perceptive, raises an eyebrow.

He rises from his seat with a deliberate grace, pulling a chair out with a courteous gesture. As you lower yourself into the seat, he subtly guides it in, his hands lingering on your shoulders for a moment longer than necessary. Through the thick fabric of your sweater, you feel the warmth of his touch.

“Make yourself comfortable, ” Ed says with a smile and a wink before walking away and sitting down opposite you, next to Lorraine.

Lorraine, with a caring demeanour, inquires further: “Have you experienced anything unusual lately? Dreams, strange occurrences, perhaps?”

You hesitate before answering: “Actually, there have been some strange dreams, and a few odd happenings. That’s partly why I took you up on your offer.”

Ed nods knowingly: “The supernatural has a way of making its presence known. We’re here to help, and we appreciate your trust in us.”

You delve into the details, your words weaving a tapestry of the dream’s vivid imagery.

“I..thought I was awake. I was sitting at my computer when I heard the sound of the front door opening. Given the day I had, I dismissed it as just another product of my imagination. However, curiosity got the better of me, and when I investigated, I saw that the door was open. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen and started to search the rooms. There was someone in the living room, I pleaded for them to leave, but... the figure charged at me. Without conscious thought, I stabbed the stranger. I was so disgusted and horrified by what I had done but… “

Lorraine listens intently, her eyes reflecting empathy. “Go on,” she encourages.

“But I reached for the knife lodged in the stranger's stomach and pulled it out. And I stabbed them again. And again. And I couldn’t stop. It was only when I removed the hood that I realised it was me, but not really me.”

As you recount the vivid dream that haunts your thoughts, tears well in your eyes and a heavy silence settles over the kitchen. Ed and Lorraine exchange a glance, their expressions turning serious, mirroring the gravity of your revelation.

Ed leans back, contemplating your words: “Dreams often manifest our internal struggles, the battle between conflicting emotions or aspects of our psyche. This self-inflicted act might be a symbolic attempt to confront and overcome a challenging part of yourself.”

Lorraine, her expression empathetic, adds: “They can be a mirror to our subconscious, reflecting what we might not be fully aware of during waking hours. Understanding their symbolism can be a key to unravelling the mysteries within. What emotions did you experience during the dream?”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts: “It was surreal, a mix of fear and confusion and just uncontrollable frenzy. It was as if I wasn’t myself. I feel - feel- so guilty…”

“It isn’t only the dreams, right?”, Lorraine looks at you as if she sees through you, “It’s also the headaches and the feeling of another presence?”

Lorraine's inquiry hangs in the air, and as she mentions the possibility of a lingering presence, a sudden surge of pain grips your head. Shadows dance in your vision, an unsettling display that feels akin to a lightning strike. Instinctively, you close your eyes, attempting to shield yourself from the overwhelming sensations.

Concerned murmurs from Lorraine and Ed surround you, their worry palpable. Ed, quick to respond, rises and kneels before you. His hand rests on your thigh, warmth seeping through, a comforting touch amid the storm within.

Despite the pain, there’s an unexpected allure in the strength of Ed’s presence. His voice, deep and reassuring, coaxes you to open your eyes. As you comply, the pain begins to recede, replaced by a sense of calm emanating from his reassuring presence. The room, once flickering with shadows, gradually steadies.

Ed, still kneeling, his gaze steady, asks gently: “Can you tell us more about this presence? Understanding its nature might be the key to understand these distressing episodes.”

Lorraine, her concern etched on her features, leans in: “We’ve encountered various entities in our work, and understanding their nature is crucial. Can you describe the feeling accompanying this presence? Any specific details or sensations?”

You take a deep breath, attempting to articulate the ineffable: “It’s like a heaviness in the air, a feeling of being watched even when I’m alone. Sometimes, there are fleeting glimpses of shadows, shapes that vanish when I try to focus on them. It’s been escalating, and with each occurrence, this headache intensifies.”

“It sounds like you're attuned to something beyond the ordinary. These manifestations might be a manifestation of psychic sensitivity, and we're here to help you navigate through it”, Ed’s hand still remains on your thigh, a grounding force.

As Ed’s hand gently leaves your leg, the warmth and reassurance it provided dissipated, leaving an emptiness that resonated within you. Rising from his previous position, Ed chooses a spot next to you.

Lorraine, sensing the shift in dynamics, delicately broached the subject, her concern evident in the furrow of her brow.

“Are you feeling alright?”, she inquires, her voice carrying a blend of empathy and curiosity.

You brush off the significance of Ed’s withdrawal with a nonchalant response: “It’s nothing, I'm fine.” Though the unspoken weight lingers in the air.

Undeterred, Lorraine leanes in, her eyes reflecting a genuine care. “We're here to help; you don’t have to face this alone”, she reassures, her words a lifeline in the sea of unspoken emotions.

As Ed subtly adjusts his position, and your thighs make contact in a dance of unspoken connection. In response, you press against him, not just to maintain the touch but to signify a shared sense of comfort and solace.

Turning your gaze towards Lorraine, you confess: “Perhaps you can offer a different kind of help, one that conventional medicine couldn't provide.”

“I wonder what is wrong with me”, you say, your voice carrying the weight of countless bewildering moments, “every day the room starts to spin, days become an indistinct blur, and shadows dance in every corner.”

Ed leans forward, his concern etched on his face. “That sounds disconcerting, to say the least. Have the doctors given any insights into these symptoms?”, he asks, his inquiry a testament to a genuine desire to understand.

A wistful smile flickers across your face as you respond: “Unfortunately, no doctor has been able to shed light on my condition. It’s baffling; they all insist I’m fine, perfectly healthy, while I feel like I'm unravelling.”

The frustration in your voice is palpable, a poignant reminder of the gaping disparity between the reassurances of the medical professionals and the persistent enigma of your symptoms.

Lorraine, sensing the gravity of the situation, speaks softly: “It must be incredibly challenging. But remember, we’re here for you, even if the answers elude conventional medicine.”

The sincerity in her words weaves a thread of comfort into the room, a fragile but genuine support in the face of the mysterious ordeal you're enduring. And for the first time since your headaches started you feel heard and seen.

Lorraine’s gaze holds a mix of understanding and curiosity as she asks: “Is that why you attended our lecture at the university? Searching for answers beyond what conventional medicine could offer?”

A subtle nod confirms Lorraine’s intuition.

As the ache in your head rekindles, Ed’s intuitive response is instant – a gentle press of his thigh against yours. A wave of warmth engulfs you, not just from the unexpected intimacy but from the acknowledgment of shared moments in this intricate dance of connection.

Turning your gaze to Lorraine, you find her eyes locked onto the point where your limbs connect. There’s a flicker of something in her expression, perhaps recognition or empathy, but certainly not discomfort.

“You may have encountered an inhuman spirit that gained possession of you”, Lorraine tells you gently.

Lorraine's revelation about a potential inhuman spirit leaves you perplexed, prompting Ed to provide clarification. His gaze, tinged with a grave seriousness, meets yours as he explains: “An inhuman spirit is something that has never walked the Earth in human form. It's something demonic.”

The weight of his words settles in the air, and a shiver runs down your spine as the gravity of the situation becomes palpable.

With a knot of uncertainty in your stomach, you ask: “What does that mean for me? What should I do?”

Ed's expression remains solemn, his response measured: “We need to investigate further, understand the nature of this entity. It means we’re facing a force that’s not bound by human constraints. Our priority is to help you, to confront and neutralise this inhuman spirit.”

“You’re not alone in this. We've encountered and triumphed over such entities before. Our combined efforts will guide us through this challenge”, Lorraine adds reassuringly.

Ed’s hand returns to your thigh, a gesture of comfort in the face of the unfolding supernatural challenge. The warmth of his touch, coupled with the gravity of the situation, evokes a subtle blush on your cheeks.

His gaze meets Lorraine’s, his hand a grounding presence on your leg as he proposes: “Lorraine, perhaps we should take her to the chapel.”

There’s a subtle acknowledgment in their shared look, an unspoken understanding that transcends the immediate situation.

You catch Lorraine’s eyes briefly flickering down to where Ed’s hand rests on your thigh. It is a short moment, but it doesn't escape your notice. Her agreement, when it comes, carries both assurance and determination.

A fleeting thought crosses your mind, wondering why Lorraine doesn't address the proximity and the tactile comfort Ed provides. It’s a realisation that, under different circumstances, such closeness might prompt a discussion. Yet, amidst the urgency of the supernatural situation, unspoken boundaries seem to blur, and you find yourself navigating a realm where the paranormal takes precedence over the ordinary.

_____

Approaching the small chapel nestled discreetly within the verdant grounds of the Warrens' estate, you find yourself captivated by its unassuming exterior. The façade, adorned with ivy and weathered by the passage of time, hints at the hidden sanctuary within. As you step through the entrance, a hushed awe envelops you.

The door, worn with the touch of countless hands seeking solace, opens into a world of quiet grandeur. The interior, a harmonious blend of history and reverence, embraces you with its inviting warmth. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the mesmerizing stained glass windows that adorn the chapel's walls. Each pane is a work of art, depicting scenes of profound spirituality with meticulous craftsmanship.

“Quite a sight, huh?” Ed remarks, his eyes reflecting the appreciation of someone intimately familiar with the mysteries of the divine.

Lorraine, her presence exuding a calm serenity, adds: “The colours in those windows are said to carry the essence of prayers and hopes over the years.”

The soft, diffused light that filters through these intricate creations casts enchanting patterns on the polished wooden pews below. As you move deeper into the chapel, you become aware of the ethereal dance of colors that paint the space. The sunlight, filtered through the kaleidoscope of stained glass, plays upon the floor, creating an ever-shifting mosaic that seems to breathe with life.

The wooden pews bear witness to the passage of time and whisper stories of shared prayers and quiet contemplation.

“Imagine the tales these pews could tell”, Ed says, running his hand along the polished surface, “Joys, sorrows, and moments of quiet reflection—each one etched into the wood.”

The flickering candles, arranged with deliberate care, add another layer to the sacred tableau. The flames dance in harmony, casting a soft, golden glow that kisses the air with a tranquil warmth. Their rhythmic dance is a silent hymn, echoing the sacred stillness that envelops the chapel.

“These candles”, Lorraine observes, “they’ve witnessed the power of faith. Lighting a candle is like sending a silent prayer into the universe.”

The air itself seems imbued with reverence, carrying the intertwined scents of aged wood and the lingering fragrance of consecrated incense.

You marvel at the intricate details that the chapel holds. The walls, adorned with religious artefacts and delicate carvings, hold a silent narrative of faith and devotion.

“This place is a testament to the enduring power of belief”, Ed comments, his eyes scanning the adorned walls, “Every detail speaks of the profound connection between the human spirit and the divine.”

The ceiling, an architectural marvel, arches gracefully overhead, creating a sense of sacred space that transcends the confines of the physical realm.

In this intimate haven, the union of soft light, vibrant colours, and evocative scents creates a sanctuary where your soul finds reprieve.

“It’s a place where the heart finds peace”, Lorraine says softly, her eyes reflecting the wisdom of a life devoted to the mystical, “A refuge for the weary soul, a haven for those seeking a moment of serenity in the tumult of life.”

Ed and Lorraine share a knowing glance, and with a gentle nod, they invite you to join them as they make their way towards the altar. The polished wooden floor echoes with a soft whisper as you follow in their footsteps.

As you approach the altar, the atmosphere seems to shift. The open space surrounding it exudes a sense of sacred gravity. The stained glass windows cast their intricate patterns of light on the altar, creating a celestial backdrop for the ornate religious artifacts that grace the sacred space.

Ed gestures toward a beautifully crafted lectern, its intricate carvings catching the flickering candlelight.

“This is a place where many have stood to share words of solace and wisdom”, he notes, his eyes reflecting a deep respect for the sanctity of the spot.

Lorraine, with a gentle smile, approaches a small arrangement of flowers near the altar: “Sometimes, a simple offering of nature speaks volumes in this sacred space. It’s a reminder of the beauty that exists even in moments of reflection and prayer.”

The altar, adorned with sacred symbols and with candles, becomes a focal point where the convergence of faith and tranquillity is palpable. It's as if the very air around it carries the whispers of countless prayers and the energy of contemplative moments.

“We find solace in these quiet moments”, Ed says, his voice a low murmur that resonates with reverence, “It's a place to connect with something beyond ourselves, to find answers or simply to be in the presence of something greater.”

With a subtle gesture, Lorraine invites you to stand beside them, facing the open space near the altar. The three of you share a moment of silent contemplation, enveloped in the sacred stillness of the chapel. The colors from the stained glass dance on the floor, the candles flicker in harmony, and the air carries the essence of aged wood and incense.

“It’s a sanctuary”, Lorraine whispers, breaking the silence, “A place where the soul can find peace and where the mysteries of the heart can unfold.”

Ed nods in agreement: “Sometimes, in the quiet of this chapel, people discover answers within themselves. It's a journey of the soul, a communion with the divine that transcends words.”

The timeless serenity of the chapel lingers as Ed and Lorraine turn to you, their expressions a blend of reassurance and understanding. Ed’s eyes reflect a genuine warmth, while Lorraine’s serene gaze seems to hold a depth of insight into the unseen.

“Are you ready?”, Ed asks, his voice carrying a comforting weight.

You meet their gazes and, with a nod, convey your readiness to partake in whatever profound experience they have in store. There’s an unspoken trust that bridges the ordinary and the extraordinary, connecting your presence in the chapel to something larger than the moment.

“Good”, Ed says, his voice a steady guide and his eyes locked on yours, “Kneel.”

You swallow dryly, shortly wondering if you understood him correctly. Ed, sensing your confusion just raises one eyebrow, a silent prompt urging you to comply with the task.

With a deep breath, you lower yourself to your knees on the polished chapel floor. The cool surface beneath you grounds you in the physicality of the chapel even as the atmosphere vibrates with unseen currents.

“Now”, Ed continues, his tone carrying a sense of purpose, “close your eyes and let the stillness of this place envelop you. Focus on your breath, on the quiet rhythm of your heartbeat.”

As you comply, the air around you seems to thicken with an almost palpable energy. The flickering candles cast a warm glow through closed eyelids, creating an inner landscape where the boundaries between the material world and the mystical blur.

Lorraine’s voice joins the symphony of the chapel’s sacred silence: “Imagine a connection between your heart and the energy of this place. Feel the threads of the unseen weaving through the fabric of your being.”

Ed’s voice follows, a soothing guide through this meditative journey: “In this sacred space, let your thoughts flow. Allow the chapel to become a vessel, a conduit for the energies that seek to guide and comfort.”

As you delve deeper into the meditative state, a profound sense of tranquility envelops you. The chapel, once a physical space, now feels like a bridge to the spiritual, a conduit for energies that transcend the ordinary.

“Open yourself to any sensations or insights that may come”, Lorraine encourages, her words a gentle prompting.

In the quiet of the chapel, with closed eyes and a receptive heart, you become attuned to the subtle shifts in the environment. The colors behind your eyelids seem to dance in response to energies unseen, and the air carries a charge that resonates with the sacredness of the moment.

As you open your eyes, the vibrant colors of the stained glass windows and the flickering candles greet you with renewed clarity.

“Pray the Pater Noster”, Ed instructs, his voice carrying a weight that transcends the confines of the chapel.

You take a deep breath before you start speaking, in an attempt to collect yourself. It occurs to you that you cannot recall the last time you had to recite the Lord's Prayer and you try your hardest to recall the correct wording from your memory.

As you commence the prayer, your voice resounds in the sacred halls of the chapel: “Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy Name; Thy kingdom come…thy.”

The unfamiliarity of the setting causes the recitation to stumble, and you find it challenging to regain the rhythm.

“Start again, focus on the words. Let the prayer guide your thoughts”, Ed, patient yet resolute, interjects.

You take a steadying breath and begin anew, the rhythm of the prayer echoing in the chapel’s confines. The flickering candles and the colored hues from the stained glass seem to respond to the spiritual endeavor.

“Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy Name; Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

Completing the initial lines, you prepare to resume, but cast your gaze towards Ed.

You notice how his broad silhouette is bathed in the chapel’s ambient light, casting a soft glow on him and accentuating the contours of his features. A breath catches in your throat as you observe the ethereal quality that surrounds him. Mesmerized, you find yourself marveling at how the light plays upon his brown hair, creating an almost transcendent aura.

You open your mouth again to continue praying: “Give us this day our… Give us this day our”

The distraction broke your concentration and your words tumble once again, and Ed intervenes once more.

“Concentrate. Let the prayer flow through you”, he encourages, his voice a calming presence amid the challenge.

As you attempt the Pater Noster once more, the words still elude you, stumbling over your lips like an unfamiliar language. There’s a growing impatience in the air, and you sense Ed’s frustration.

“Start again”, Lorraine interjects, her tone tinged with impatience and a hint of anger at your perceived inability to concentrate. The pressure intensifies, and the chapel, once a sanctuary, becomes a stage for the inner struggle between the earthly and the supernatural.

“Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy Name; Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, thy…”

The failure to recite the prayer triggers a sudden escalation in tension. Without warning, Lorraine steps forward, her frustration boiling over. A sharp, echoing slap reverberates through the chapel as her hand connects with your face.

Stunned silence hangs in the air, the lingering sound of the slap contrasting sharply with the sacred stillness of the chapel. The unexpected act leaves a mark, both physically and metaphorically, in the unfolding drama of supernatural confrontation.

Stunned and cradling your cheek, you feel a wave of fear washing over you. The unexpected slap has left you speechless, grappling with the sudden turn of events.

Lorraine’s voice, now cold and impatient, cuts through the chapel's stillness: “Ed, it seems she has never been properly educated in the way of the Lord.”

The frustration in the chapel intensifies, and Ed’s resolve hardens.

“I’m gonna give you a proper lesson”, he declares, and Lorraine, in agreement, adds an air of authority to the unfolding scene.

Ed instructs you to get up, his demeanour leaving little room for hesitation. The chapel, once a sanctuary, now feels charged with an unsettling tension.

Ed's voice, though firm, holds an edge of frustration.

“This lesson is necessary”, he asserts.

Lorraine, her impatience palpable, adds: “We were hoping for cooperation, not resistance.”

He guides you up to the altar and positions you with a subtle push.

As you bend over the altar, the cold surface presses against your hands, and the weight of the situation becomes tangible. The shift from the warmth and camaraderie earlier to this stern lesson feels disorienting, leaving you questioning the motives behind this abrupt turn.

Despite the overwhelming tension and unease, a fleeting and disconcerting thought crosses your mind. In the midst of this unexpected turn of events, you find yourself reflecting on how, under different circumstances, you might have appreciated being in a situation with someone like Ed.

The complexities of the situation—his firm demeanor, the unexpected discipline, and the palpable energy in the chapel—leave you grappling not only with the supernatural but with a disconcerting undercurrent of conflicting emotions. The boundaries between the earthly and the metaphysical blur in this unsettling chapter of your encounter with the Warrens.

Surprised you let out a gasp when Ed hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pants and just pulls them down, leaving you in your panties.

“What-?”, confusion taints your voice as you attempt to push yourself up, palms pressing against the smooth surface of the altar. Before you can fully rise, Ed’s strong grip seizes your neck, compelling you back down and firmly holding you in place.

Panic flickers in your mind, a whirlwind of thoughts racing to make sense of this unexpected turn. The cool surface beneath your trembling hands becomes a stark reminder of your vulnerability. Images of the chapel, once a haven, now feel tinged with an unsettling uncertainty. The rhythmic prayer that once echoed in the sacred space is replaced by a disquieting silence.

As you struggle to process the abrupt change, the grip on your neck tightens forcing you to lay completely flat.

Ed bows down, and you feel the warmth of his breath against your ear. Goosebumps rise on your arms as his proximity sends a shiver down your spine. The unexpected closeness heightens the intensity of the moment, leaving you momentarily breathless.

“Let this be a lesson to know your prayers”, Ed’s voice, low and commanding, echoes in the hallowed space.

As Ed speaks, you catch a familiar scent—his cologne, a subtle and intoxicating fragrance that lingers in the air. The scent envelops you, and for a moment, you're intoxicated by its familiarity. Somehow the combination of his nearness, commanding voice, and the alluring aroma arouses you. That whole scenario should not be that hot, you figure, but you can’t help feeling that way so you accept your fate and stop struggling.

Ed pulls back and loosens the grip on your neck, sensing your lack of resistance. As you catch your breath, you instinctively glance toward Lorraine, anticipating disapproval or concern in her eyes. To your surprise, her gaze meets yours, and you find something unexpected—approval and support.

Lorraine opens her mouth, breaking the charged silence, and says: “Start again.”

Her voice, though calm, carries a directive force that commands your attention.

“Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy Name”, you start, but panic begins to set in your bones as you speak. Your head starts pounding again, the weight of the situation pressing down on you.

Unable to ignore the rising distress, you stop mid-prayer and say: “Look, can I just go, please?”

In the charged silence that follows, you sense the disappointment radiating off Ed behind you before you hear the sound of his disapproval, a quiet clinking of the tongue.

Your heart pounds in your ears as you wait, the seconds stretching into an uneasy silence.

Just as you muster the courage to say something again, you feel Ed’s big palm connecting with your ass. The unexpected impact resonates through the stillness of the chapel.

Surprised you let out a loud yelp as you feel your ass burning from the slap. You cannot believe that Ed just spanked you for messing up the Pater Noster. Arousal pools low in your belly as you feel the warmth radiating of him behind you.

You notice Ed’s strong hand caressing over the just-hit place to soothe the pain. Part of you wants to say something, but you are completely overwhelmed by the unusual sequence of events.

“Start again”, Lorraine’s voice sounds clear through the chapel, and your head snaps up to look at her form. Lorraine looks at you expectantly, her gaze carrying an unspoken command. Overwhelmed and reluctant to face the potential repercussions, you submit.

“Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy Name; Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven”, you gulp nervously before continuing, “Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses…as… as”

As the words falter once more, Ed’s hand makes contact with your ass once again and you cannot fully surpress the whine that escapes your mouth. This time it feels like his fingers linger longer on the globes of your behind leaving a hot trace that makes you squirm involuntarily.

“Again”, Ed’s order cuts through your thoughts, his voice sounding more gravely and deeper as it resonates through the chapel and his hand still ghosts over your ass.

That should not be that hot you think, trying to rationalize the conflicting emotions. But you cannot ignore the warmth and dominance that Ed radiates behind you. You cannot ignore the way his hand softly kneeds the skin of your ass while he waits for you to continue.

The entire situation strikes you as bizarre, and you find yourself questioning the authenticity of the footage they showed at the university. No one explicitly mentioned an exorcism, but the proximity and personal nature of Ed’s actions leave you wondering about the true nature of the spiritual encounter.

Under any other circumstances you’d be very willing - downright happy - to fall to your knees for him, but here in a chapel that just feels wrong and out of place. And not to mention that he is married and Lorraine is watching you.

Ed withdraws the hand on your ass and steps back a bit, only keeping control over you by his other hand on your back. He denies you any further physical contact and a plaintive whine espaces you, yearning for more touch as you lie bent over the altar in the dimly lit chapel.

Your senses are dulled and shrouded by a curtain of pleasure as your head and mind are in a blissful silence.

Lorraine says something to Ed but her words become distant echos, lost amid the overwhelming sensations. You watch through a haze as she steps forward towards her husband, handing him a big, leather clad bible. Mesmerised you marvel at the way his arm and back flexes when takes the book.

In a tense moment, Lorraine’s voice cuts through the sacred air and you hear the words but cannot make sense of them: “Ed, it's time she learns her place. Give her ten, one for every commandment.”

He steps back behind you, and you feel him—the warmth and dominance his body radiates. And you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

“I want you to count and thank the Lord”, Eds deep and gravely voice sounds behind you as his hand caresses the skin of your ass.

Before you have time to properly process the words the cool leather of the Bibles makes contact with you ass. The force of the hit catches you off guard, a surprising jolt that resonates through your being. This was definitely the hardest he had hit you so far you think as you catch your breath.

Ed’s hand digs into you hip sharply and you remember his command from before: “One. Thank you, Lord”.

He makes a pleased low hum in his throat and smoothes over the hot skin before hitting you again.

“Shit… I mean: Two. Thank you, Lord.”

Ed continues to bring the bible down on your ass and you can’t help but imagine how he looks right now. You wonder if his carefully groomed hair has fallen out of place, becoming slightly tousled with single strands brushing his forehead. You wonder if he had to roll the sleeves of his arms up, fuck you’d do a lot of things to see the way his muscles tense whenever he brings the leather-bound book down.

Shamefully you admit to yourself that it turns you on immensely, arousal pools low in your belly and with every hit you feel yourself getting wetter.

After the sixth time Ed spanked you with the bible, you cannot help but squirm involved when his hand caresses the hot, raw and burning skin of your ass.

But rather than pulling away from his touch you lean into it, desperate for friction.

You hear Ed chuckle silently as his long fingers continue to stroke over your skin, causing goosebumps to form all over your body. When his hand ventures lower you suck in a breath and stop moving.

Painfully slow Ed lets his fingers wander lower until he reaches your clothed pussy. You are pretty sure that he can feel how wet you are, that you must have drenched the thin material of your panties.

It almost feels like humiliation to you when his hand ghosts over your pussy for a second before he drags one long, thick finger through your slit. The whine, you were not able to suppress sounds loud in the chapel walls as you push back against Ed, desperate to feel his hand on your cunt again.

“Maybe she's even further gone than we thought”, Ed's voice is rough and stained with something that you cannot place when he speaks to Lorraine, “she really seems to enjoy her lesson too much…”

A wave of humiliation surges through you, shame crashing through your veins and igniting a bright blush on your cheeks. Each word from Ed feels like he’s cast a spotlight on you, exposing your vulnerabilities to Lorraine.

But Ed interrupts any chance for you to dwell on your feelings, his hand tracing a path over your skin and returning to your cunt. He drags his finger roughly through your clothed slit, tracing the shape of your pussy before applying pressure to your clit.

You feel a hot throb inside you, spreading all through your veins as you involuntarily buck your hips into his hand and moan quietly before biting your lip to avoid making any more sound.

Ed leans in, bending over you, so his warmth is enveloping your back and the subtle pressure of his presence against your skin sends a wave of arousal through your veins. His hot breath grazes your ear as he speaks roughly: “Don’t you, slut?”

Your only response is to push back against him and whine as you hide your head in your hands. Contrary to your previous thoughts that he was completely unaffected you feel his hard cock straining against his pants on your raw ass. But the contact is only short lived because Ed pulls back from you.

“Try to cleanse her, Ed”, you hear Lorraine’s voice through the aroused haze that swirls around your mind.

Before you can wonder what exactly she means, Ed’s fingers have hooked on the waistband of your underwear, ripping the flimsy material off, making you gasp. The cold air of the chapel hits your wet cunt but instead of cooling you down it riles you up even more since you remember where you are - a holy place.

But there is nothing holy about you bending over the altar with your cunt and ass bare and yet it feels absolutely divine when you feel Ed’s fingers on your cunt without a barrier for the first time.

You feel the palm of his hand against your ass as he forms a V with his middle- and forefinger to enclose the other sides of your cunt. Ed rests his hand there for a moment, making your stomach flutter in anticipation before he closes them slowly and pulling back to the edge of your cunt.

Your clit throbs and you squirm on the altar, desperate for Ed to continue.

A strangled moan escapes your lips when he pushes his thick fingers between the lips of your pussy and spreads them, effectively opening you up. You are pretty sure that he can not only feel but also see your wetness glistening in the dim light of the chapel.

Ed’s thumb brushes against your neglected clit and you groan loudly as electricity shoots through you, making you arch your back into his hand.

All the desperate sounds you make and the way you buck against him does not make him go faster and you really want to curse him out - you want to be filled by him, you want his fingers and his cock. So when he finally pushes his middle finger in your cunt a loud moan along with a please escapes you.

The haze in your mind thickens, rendering you blissfully obvious to your surroundings. The only reality matters right now is Ed. His presence dominates your consciousness, eclipsing everything else, as if the world beyond him and his hands on you has faded into insignificance.

“So good for us, sweetheart. You’re doing so good, taking what I give you so well”, Ed rasps behind you, his voice strained with satisfaction and barely constrained self restraint.

He curls his fingers inside you and starts shallowly and slowly thrusting before he adds a second finger.

You whine at the stretch of his long fingers when he pushes them all the way inside your pussy and grinds his palm against your clit.

Ed’s fingertips graze over the sweet spot on the wall of your cunt and your knees buckle under you as a wave of pleasure washes over you. With a dark chuckle he repeats this motion again and again while his palm steadily rubs your clit.

The distant echoes of Lorraine’s footsteps lingers off the edges of the fog in your mind as she approaches her husband. Yet, your concentration remained unwaveringly fixed on Ed and his long, thick fingers that are buried in your wet cunt.

A subtle jump courses through you as you feel something small with delicate round beads on your clit. Ed rubs it around the nub and you feel every cool and smooth ridge touching you as his fingers continue to thrust and rub deep inside your pussy.

“Shit Ed, please”, the words escape as a desperate plea, your voice raw.

Your cunt throbs and pulses to the rhythm of his hands on you and inside you as wave after wave of pleasure slowly builds up your orgasm.

“Be good and cum all over my fingers and Lorrain’s rosary. Let us cleanse you”, Ed’s warm breath against your sensitive skin sends shivers down your spine.

When the wave of pleasure shatters and courses through you, you cum for him with a loud moan that echoes off the chapel walls. Your back arches into Ed, who keeps finger-fucking you through your high, your hips grinding frantically against his hand, desperate for him.

Your breathing is ragged and loud when you come down from your high and your senses slowly come back to life, your cunt still tingling with the warm aftermath of your intense orgasm.

“Good girl, you did so well”, Ed praises you and pulls his fingers out with a wet noise before wiping them against your inner thigh.

Ed presses himself against you from behind, his closeness is palpable as the warmth of his body surrounds you and you feel the hard outline of his dick on your ass again. Instinctively you press back against his bulge, making him groan and suck in a breath.

He digs his fingers into the soft skin of your hip, a hidden warning for you to behave when he dangles the rosary in front of you. A belated realisation dawns in your mind - this is Lorraine’s rosary, this is what you felt dragging around your clit and wet cunt just minutes before.

A pang of shame courses through you as your eyes catch the sight of the rosary beads glistening with your wetness in the chapel’s light.

“Clean them”, Ed commands, his voice a low murmur that echoes through the church, laden with a mixture of authority and desire.

Without a hint of resistance, you comply with Ed’s command, opening your mouth and letting him guide the beads between your lips. Your tongue traces a path along the wet rosary beads as you taste yourself on them. The whole act feels positively sinful and you can’t help but feel more aroused, involuntarily you clench around nothing.

When you accidentally lock eyes with Lorraine, you freeze for a short moment. You had almost forgotten that it was not only Ed and you in the chapel but that his wife was also there. Your entire focus had been consumed by Ed and his commands and presence.

But contrary to what you would have expected Lorraine does not look angry, her emotions are unreadable but undeniably intense as she cocks an eyebrow, prompting you to continue your work.

A blush of humiliation sears through you and the burning sensation in your cheeks intensifies as you start cleaning the rosary beads again under Lorraine’s watchful gaze.

“Ed”, Lorraine starts, her eyes still locked on yours, “I don’t think it worked. Something still grips her.”

Ed withdraws, but he trails his hands and the rosary over your back, making sure to touch as much as possible before he straightens. Still bent over the altar, your legs wobble and feel unsure, making it impossible for you to get up. Yet, you don’t want to leave.

There is only one thing that you are currently sure of wanting and that is Ed.

“I think you’re right, hon”, Ed’s gravelly voice acknowledges, heavy with desire.

Lorraine walks over to her husband and you turn your head to look at them. As they stand together in the muted ambiance of the chapel, you catch glimpses of their exchange. She leans into Ed’s direction and speaks to him, her hushed words elude you.

Uncertain of the decisions the Warrens’ made in their whispered exchange you find yourself indifferent when Ed seizes your hair and pulls you to your feet from the position over the altar. He places his other hand on your hip, gripping in firmly to stabilise you as his thumb traces calming circles on your skin.

After a few moments you find your footing and Ed’s hold on your hair eases, allowing you to turn around and face him.

Purely on instinct, you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, an unconscious response as your gaze locks onto Ed. He embodies what you imagined - but the reality is so much better.

His short hair is slightly dishevelled and frames his face. A lone strand has fallen onto his forehead, resting there. A subtle blush tinges his neck, visible where the top buttons of his dress shirt are undone, exposing a glimpse of his chest. The soft blue of his eyes is almost entirely engulfed by blackness, revealing the depth of his desire.

Your attention descends to his arms, where you notice he’s pushed up the sleeves of his shirt, unveiling toned forearms.

His gaze locks onto yours and you notice the hunger and intensity burning in his eyes. Ed’s hands, strong and confident, cradle your face, their warmth seeping into your skin. As his lips descend, the initial softness gives way to a fervent kiss that depends, exploring the contours of your mouth with a tender yet insistent dance.

The kiss deepens and you instinctively wrap your arms around Ed, drawing him closer. Your hands find their places, one resting at the small of his lower back, while the other rests on his shoulder. You feel a canvas of strength beneath your fingertips, his muscles firm and well-defined. He pushes his clothed erection into your bare cunt, grinding against you. You whine into the kiss when the rough fabric of his pants scrapes over your clit.

As you part, you are breathless, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of Ed’s kiss and in a quiet and almost intimate gesture, your fingers trail over to gently push back the strand of hair that had fallen onto Ed’s face.

Ed’s face lights up with a radiant, toothy smile that seems to melt away any of your worries. In that moment, the intensity gives way to a genuine warmth that spreads through your veins.

When he leans in again, he places a kiss on your nose, causing a subtle fluttering in your chest to blend with a quiet contentment.

“Ed”, Lorraine’s voice cuts through the intimacy with a sharp edge, “Remember why we are here.”

His gaze shifts, the warmth fading as the reminder settles in.

“We can’t lose sight of our purpose”, he says, his tone carrying acknowledgement.

Despite Lorraine’s reminder Ed pulls you in one more for another linger kiss. The intensity of it feels like it has a direct line to your cunt. Pleasure that had been simmering is once again ignited into a full fire.

As the kiss concludes, Ed speaks again: “We should get back to work”.

Ed steps back from you, his words carrying a command that intertwines his authority and desire.

“Kneel again, be good for us”, he instructs, the request echoing through the chapel’s sacred space.

Without a hint of hesitation, you step out of your pants and sink to your knees, a swift and obedient response to Ed’s command. Your reaction is just automatic, there is no coherent thought in your mind as you follow his orders.

The coldness of the stone floor beneath your bare knees serves as a start reminder of the reality and you wince as the cold spreads through you.

Looking up to Ed through your lowered lashes, you see him visibly swallowing, his Adam’s apple bobbing upon having you on your knees before him. While you want to reach out and take his cock from his pants, free him of his prison, you don’t dare, sensing that it would displease him and Lorraine.

“We will try something different now”, Lorraine declares with a gentle voice, prompting your eyes to snap from Ed to her. In her hand she holds the rosary once again, and a blush raises to your cheeks as your clit throbs in remembrance of what Ed did to you with it.

Lorraine continues: “Take him wholly and accept him into your mouth. That he may drive the evil out”

You divert your attention from Lorraine back to Ed. His eyes meet yours, and in that moment, he winks at you playfully before reaching down to grab the hem of your shirt. In one fluid motion he pulls it off you, leaving you kneeling naked in the chapel.

His gaze lingers on you, a slow and deliberate appraisal as he looks you up and down, taking in every nuance of your form, making you squirm under the intensity.

Mesmerised, you watch as his hands find the front of his pants, unzipping them and pulling them down so his cock and balls are exposed. His dick obscenely framed by his pants and underwear that is pushed mid thigh as well as his shirt that has the last few buttons undone. He is big, slightly curved, with a protruding vein on the underside and the head is already glistening with a drop of pre-cum. Your mouth waters at the sight of him and you lick your lips in anticipation.

Ed steps up to you, burying his fingers in your hair and pulls your head against his exposed cock, rubbing against your face. So you open your mouth and flick your tongue towards his dick to lick the drop of pre-cum away.

Both Ed and you let out a groan simultaneously - you at the salty, musky taste of him that settles in your mouth and him at the feeling of your tongue on his hard cock.

When you open your mouth again he slides the head of his dick in, it’s heavy on your tongue as he just looks at you in wonder. You keep your eyes trailed on his and watch him swallow heavily before pushing himself deeper into your mouth with in a single, swift stroke.

The sound of surprise is muffled by the cock in your mouth that already feels too deep.

Ed tightens his grip on your head and he pushes his dick further in until the head hits the back of your throat.

Almost instantly, tear well up in your eyes, an involuntary response to the deep intrusion of his cock. Your hand instinctively finds his muscular thighs as you attempt to push him away or prompt a retreat.

Despite your efforts, Ed’s strength prevails, the grip on your head and hair remains firm and unyielding.

“Be a good girl and take it”, Ed’s commanding voice cuts through the air, his words heavy with desire as he groans above you.

You swallow around his cock and try to breathe through your nose but it doesn’t feel enough. Drool starts to collect in the corner of your mouth and around his dick before it drips down.

For a few seconds, Ed just holds your head in place with his cock buried to the hilt in your throat and balls pressed against your chin. Black spots start appearing in the corners of your vision and soon they morph into shadows that encroach your field of view as you struggle to breath.

Mercifully he pulls you off his cock ending your struggle.

You greedily inhale, the sudden rush of oxygen burning in your lungs, eliciting a cough. As you gasp for air your tear-stained eyes fixate on Ed.

The chapel light embraces him, casting a radiant glow that accentuates the contours of his form. Ed’s chest rises and falls with the rhythm of his laboured breaths, the play of light illuminates his muscular form. Dishevelled strands of brown hair frame his face, catching the light in a cascade of radiant highlights. Each lock seemed to shimmer with its own luminescence, creating an almost halo-like effect.

As he continues to stroke his hard cock the light also casts shadows on his hand as if intensifying the nuances of each movement.

“It’s no use, hon”, Ed says to Lorraine without averting his gaze from you, still stroking his cock.

Your eyes flicker over to Lorraine. She appears completely composed and unbothered by the recent interaction between you and her husband. With a calm nod she signals her agreement to Ed’s statement.

He exerts a gentle but firm pull with his hand that is still entangled in your hair as he guides you up from your kneeling position until you are standing. In a swift motion, Ed brings you into a tight hug, bringing you flush against him, his erect dick pushing against your stomach.

With that hand in your hair, Ed gently tilts your head upwards, locking eyes with you before bringing his mouth down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. Arousal pumps through your veins when you return it with the same fervour and grind your hips against his cock.

You part, both breathless and Ed steps back from the embrace, creating a sligh distance to gaze at you. His eyes are clouded by pleasure and linger on your breasts.

Under the scrutiny of his gaze you swallow dryly and feel your nipples involuntarily harden.

Ed’s hand, once entwined in your hair, delicately withdraws and he speaks with a raspy tenderness: “You’re something else, you know?”

He strokes along your cheek, a featherlight touch of his long fingers against your heated skin before he cups your chin.

“I think we’re gonna have to try something different”, he says to Lorraine as he runs his thumb over your lower lip, keeping his gaze firmly on you.

You can’t suppress a moan when he places his hands on your bare waist and drags his palms up until he reaches your breasts, cupping them. Ed gives them a slow, leisurely, appreciative squeeze and lifts them slightly, feeling their weight before stroking his thumb over your nipples. A jolt of electricity courses through you at his soft ministrations and you feel his cock throbbing.

The intense connection breaks abruptly when you feel a small, warm hand on your bare shoulder, causing you to jump slightly.

“Jesus”, the exclamation slips from your lips.

Ed cocks an eyebrow and a subtle amusement etches into his features, as his lip twitches: “That is indeed what you need. But don’t worry, we will take care of it - of you.”

With those words, he steps away, leaving you with Lorraine who’s hand tugs at your shoulder again, prompting you to turn and face her. She looks at you with a faint smile, her head tilted slightly to the one side. She motions for you to follow with a graceful gesture of her hand, leading you back to the altar.

“He’ll be right back, dear. He is just getting what is necessary for us to help you”, Lorraine speaks in a gentle, quiet and soothing tone while rubbing small circles over your bare arm as you stand there.

Ed’s heavy footsteps resonate in the quiet of the chapel when he returns only minutes later. The candles placed in the chapel that surrounded him flicker in response, their flames dancing. The play of light and shadows creates an ethereal aura around him.

As he strides back towards the altar purposefully you see his cock bobbing with each of his step, the head coated in presumed glistens in the light. You notice that he has completely unbuttoned his shirt by now, the two halves falling open to reveal his strong chest.

A look of fierce determination is etched across Ed’s face as he carries a small leather bundle under his arm.

“Get on the altar”, he declares, his voice a low rumble that reverberates in the quiet of the chapel. The flickering of candles cast dynamic shadows on his face, enhancing his determined expression.

The edge in Ed’s voice sends a surge of arousal through your veins.

Without clear instructions, you instinctively use your hand to push yourself to sit on the altar. A hiss escapes your lips as he cold stone makes contact with your bare skin,

You hear Ed hum in approval as he notices your compliance. Placing the bundle on the altar next to you, your curiosity piques, and you watch intently, wondering what he brought with him.

He hands Lorraine the big leather-bound Bible - the same one he used to spank you earlier. The memory makes you squirm lightly as you recall how it all felt, feeling yourself getting wetter again.

She takes the book from Ed’s hands and tenderly touches his cheek. The delicate gesture lasts a few moments before Lorraine removes her palm from his face, and as if in silent agreement, Ed returns his attention to the bundle on the altar.

Ed unrolls the bundle with a practised motion of his hands, and your eyes remain glued to the mesmerising movement. Watching his hands, you marvel at their appeal. They are undeniably handsome - strong, adorned with veins that trace a map of strength and boasting long, thick fingers. You clench around nothing when you remember how perfect they felt inside you.

As Ed unveils the contents, a myriad of items come into view, each carrying its own significance. Various crosses, some made of metal and some of wood but all different in size, catch the ambient light of the chapel. Candles, meticulously arranged, follow suit. A lighter is poised beside them.

Transparent bottles filled with clear liquid stand out. You can only speculate, but the faint scent in the air and the placement of the bottles hint at the possibility of holy water.

Furrowing your brow, you watch his hands move with purpose as he arranges these items in a precise order. The answer as to why he needs these items eludes you for now.

Finally, Ed shifts his attention to you, stepping in front of you. Almost on instinct you open your legs and he positions himself between them.

Your attention remains fixed on Ed as the rhythmic clicking of the lighter echose in the background. The ambient sound suggests that Lorraine must be lighting the candles.

But that soon fades again, you cannot concentrate on anything other than the handsome man in front of you.

You tangle your fingers in his short hair to tuck him down and kiss you. When your lips meet you let out a soft moan that is swallowed by him. He returns the kiss with fervour and grips the back of your head with one hand. He uses the other hand to rub the head of his cock against your cunt.

You buck against him in response to finally feeling him there and moan into the kiss again. Ed rubs himself against you, massaging your clit with the smooth head of his dick and coating it in your wetness.

He keeps up with this slow, steady and careful rhythm - and it’s driving you mad. Each thrust causes a small spark of pleasant sensation to course through you.

When Ed breaks the kiss to nod at Lorraine you whine at the loss of contact. Currently, you don’t care about her, the only thing you care about is him and his big cock.

Through the blissful haze in your mind you hear Ed speak: “My Lord, you are all powerful, you are God, you are our Father”.

The words puzzle you but every thought is banished from your mind when you feel the warm, bulbous head of his cock entering your cunt. Slowly but steadily he fills you until he is nearly completely buried in you.

He grabs hold of your hair, tugging it backwards as you groan, the pain almost forcing more pleasure upon you, making you look at him.

Ecce crucem domini, fugite partes adversae

Goosebumps erupt all over your skin as Ed begins to speak in Latin, the words resonating within the sacred surroundings.

What?

Before you can fully grasp the significance of the Latin words, Ed seals your lips with another kiss, momentarily grounding you in the sensation of his touch. He begins sliding in and out of your pussy before he breaks the kiss and gently pushes you down until you lay flat on the altar. The stone is cold beneath you.

Exsurgat Deus et dissipentur inimici ejus: et fugiant qui oderunt eum a facie ejus

Lorraine's voice, though quiet, possesses a commanding presence as it weaves through the chapel. Each word is delivered with a deliberate cadence, the measured tones resonating in the hallowed silence. There's a certain grace in the way she speaks, a calm assurance that adds an ethereal quality to the unfolding ritual. Her words, like tendrils of incense, linger in the air, filling the sacred space with a sense of purpose and reverence.

But you don’t have time to think about that because Ed starts thrusting inside you, emphasising each sentence with a stroke of his hips. He pulls out until only the head is inside you before pushing in again and stretching your walls to accommodate him. You whimper beneath him whenever he fills you completely.

Sicut deficit fumus defíciant; sicut fluit cera a facie ígnis, sic pereant peccatores a facie Dei

Ed's hand is back to rub your clit in circles following the rhythm of his cock. You moan loudly as a slow sensation starts in your clit, growing more intense with each thrust of his dick and every movement of his fingers.

Princeps gloriosissime coelestis milítiae, sancte Míchael Archangele, defende nos in proelio

He gives his hips an extra hard push when he is fully sheathed inside your wet cunt and you feel his balls slapping against you. Waves of heavy and delightful pleasure and sensation course wash through you as you fail to comprehend what they do to you.

Et colluctatione, quae nobis est adversus principes et potestates, adversus mundi rectores tenebrarum harum, contra spiritualia nequitiae, in coelestibus

The pressure inside you rises as Ed keeps fucking you and rubbing circles around your clit. You feel yourself tightening as pure and unfiltered pleasure courses through your veins. His dick seems to hit all the right places inside you, the wide shaft stretching you deliciously and the sensations radiating from your clit, making you balance on the edge of an orgasm.

Veni in auxilium hominum; quos Deus creavit inexterminabiles, et ad imaginem similitudinis suae fecit, et a tyrannide diaboli emit pretio magno

Ed uses your body like a drum, everything he does vibrating through you like a steady beat as you feel the prickling sensation of need pulling at you, filling your veins.

You watch him through hooded eyes and you clench around his cock upon his sight. His brow is furrowed in determination as the muscles in his chest and arms ripple with every thrust.

You feel the pleasure cresting, the wave of sensations stacking higher and higher, but just then, just when you’re about to reach your peak, something wet and cold hits you.

Exorcizamos te, omnis immunde spiritus, omnis satanic potestas, omnis infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, in nomine et virtute Domini nostri Jesu

The unexpected sensation interrupts the rising tide of intensity, making you hiss. You smell a faint scent of holy water lingering in the air.

Turning your head slightly, you search for Lorraine, attempting to make sense of what just happened. You see her standing near you, the bible open as he holds a veil of what you guess is holy water.

Christi, eradicare et effugare a Dei Ecclesia, ab animabus ad imaginem Dei conditis ac pretioso divini Agni sanguine redemptis

Lorraine continues to sprinkle holy water onto you, the rhythmic pattern synchronised with the cadence of her words and Ed’s smooth thrusts.

The holy water feels cold on your overheated skin, a stark contrast that intensifies the sensory experience. The dichotomy of warmth and cold adds a layer of complexity to the unfolding ritual, leaving you caught in a paradox of sensations.

Non ultra audeas, serpens callidissime, decipere humanum genus, Dei Ecclesiam persequi, ac Dei electos excutere et cribrare sicut triticum

As your attention remains captivated by Lorraine, you're caught off guard by Ed's discreet move. Unseen, he seizes a burning candle, and the sudden cascade of hot wax onto your stomach elicits a sharp gasp from your lips. The contrasting elements of the cold water and the hot wax introduce a surprising twist, the unexpected sensation intertwining with the ambiance of the chapel.

The candlelight flickers, casting dancing shadows on Ed's face as he continues to drizzle the wax. Each drop leaves a transient mark on your skin, tainting it red.

Imperat tibi Deus altissimus, Imperat tibi Deus Pater; imperat tibi Deus Filius; imperat tibi Deus Spiritus Sanctus

The tension inside you breaks and waves crash and cascade over you as you cum almost unexpectedly. You clamp down around Ed's cock, clenching your cunt and bucking your hips. You arch your back when the orgasm courses through your body, riding out every single way as he continues to massage your clit and drive his hard dick into you.

Your scream echoes off the chapel walls, the sound resonating in the sacred silence, marking a moment of raw intensity. The juxtaposition of pleasure and the unexpected pain manifests in the resonance of your cry, creating a haunting echo that lingers in the hallowed atmosphere.

Vade satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis

Part of you is sure that you will go mad with all the sensations filling your mind, tending to overwhelm you.

Ed’s fingers playing with your clit, rubbing patterns you don’t understand.

His cock fills you up and hitting that spot makes your nerves sing so beautifully.

The mix of holy water and candle wax that assaults every fibre of your being, keeping you finely balanced between pain and pleasure.

You’re grateful you don’t have to stand because you feel your knees buckle under the onslaught.

Lorraine and Ed work in perfect harmony, alternating between hot and cold in such a way that you don’t know what will come next.

Da locum Christo, in quo nihil invenisti de operibus tuis

Every touch on your clit makes it throb, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your body and building up to your next orgasm. As Ed continues to slam into your cunt with a force that would drive you up the altar had he not been holding you down.

Whenever another drop of the cold holy water or the hot candle wax hits your bare skin you moan loudly at the sensation - you may as well be screaming you would not be able to discern it.

Da locum Ecclesia Uni, Sanctae, Catholicae, et Apostolicae, quam Christus ipse acquisivit sanguine suo

Ed buries his cock to the hilt, rotating his hips as if he could push it even further inside, making you arch your back against him.

“Beg for forgiveness”, his voice is deep and laced with arousal as he fucks into you in short, hard, deep stabs, “Beg for forgiveness from our God. Beg that He may allow us to cleanse you from your evil by my seed.”

“Please - please”, you start to beg desperately just as Ed had asked from you, “Please, Ed, please.”

Nos eriperes de potestate diaboli

You stammer incoherent words and sentences, the intensity rendering your attempts at communication fractured and disoriented. The echoes of your disjointed utterances sound throughout the chapel, as Ed quickens his pace again, hitting that spot deep inside you.

Ab omni hoste visibili et invisibili et ubique in hoc saeculo liberetur

Lorraine’s words grow louder, ascending to a crescendo that reverberates through the chapel. The rhythmic cadence of her speech becomes a pulsating backdrop as you come again, the explosive pleasure hitting you all at once. Your vision goes black and you shudder against Ed violently.

With a loud groan Ed comes inside you as your cunt contracts around him, your high having him brought to the peak too. You feel his dick twitching and pulsing as he keeps his hips flush against yours.

The waves of your orgasm keep washing over you as he keeps pumping you full of his cum.

Slowly your vision and senses return to you and Ed slides his slowly softening cock out of your cunt with a satisfied sigh.

You feel a drizzle of his sticky cum oozing from your pussy and dripping down on the altar.

Your eyes meet Ed's, and he graces you with a wide, warm smile that transforms his dishevelled appearance into a moment of genuine warmth as he tucks his dick into his pants.

Ed looks thoroughly fucked out, a layer of sweat covering his bare chest that glistens whenever he moves in the dim light. His hair points in all directions, some strands sticking to his forehead. Yet, in this vulnerable state, you find him more attractive than ever.

“I think that did it”, Ed remarks to Lorraine, his voice carrying a note of satisfaction. As the surroundings gradually come back into focus, you look at Lorraine.

In contrast to you or Ed, she has maintained her composed demeanour, her clothes and hair still neatly in place.

She nods at his words as a subtle acknowledgment, then her gaze shifts from Ed to you and back at him.

“I’ll head back to the house, hon. You both should join me when you’ve cleaned yourselves up.”

Before she leaves, Lorraine steps over to you, her touch gentle as she cradles your face in the palm of her hand.

“You did well”, she says softly, warmth evident in her voice.

With that, she turns to leave, her steps echoing through the silent air as she heads towards the exits leaving you alone in the chapel with Ed, who in the meantime picked up your discarded clothes.

Ed places the clothes next to you on the altar and with a tender gesture he smooths your sweaty hair out of your forehead before leaning in and kissing you in a lingering, sweet kiss.

He starts picking the dried wax from your skin with a careful touch, his fingers tracing over the sore skin softly.

“You did so good”, he murmurs, his words carrying a mixture of pride and tenderness.

As continues to remove the wax he whispers words of affirmation, telling you what a good girl you are, how strong you are and that he is proud of you.

When he reaches your cunt he gives you a cheeky wink before gathering the cum that dripped out of your puffy cunt on his fingers and pushing it back in. You moan when you feel his thick fingers in your sore pussy: “Shit, Ed!”

“I know, sweetheart. Just cleaning you up… And wouldn’t want to waste my cum, right? It has to go where it belongs”, Ed slushes you softly and pumps his fingers into you a few times before he pulls back, satisfied with his work.

Ed helps you down from the altar, his arms enveloping you in a tight hug. You sigh softly, when the warmth he radiates seeps into your bare skin. As you hug, you feel the steady rhythm of his heart beating against your chest. Softly, you stroke his shoulders and back, letting your hands wander over his broad frame.

“Thank you”, you mumble, “for helping.”

You really are grateful for them to try their unorthodox methods on you. Judging by the soreness that inhabits your whole body, you enjoyed it immensely and even if it didn’t help, you’d be more than happy to return for a second session.

He parts from you with a soft kiss to your forehead: “Not for that, sweetheart. It was my pleasure… Just say the word, I’d be more than willing to help you again”.

Blushing at his words, you meet his toothy grin that reflects the genuine warmth when he hands you your clothes. His touch is gentle as he helps you to dress again. Wanting to return the favour, you take the initiative to button up Ed’s shirt.

His voice is soft when he thanks you before he grabs all the things on the altar and stores them in the leather bundle again.

Ed leads you out of the chapel with a hand on your back and you appreciate the soft gesture as you walk away from the stone altar. He opens the door for you and motions you outside with a gentle gesture of his hand before stepping next to you again.

Blinking against the light, you notice that while it is a bit darker than before, it is still brighter than in the chapel. The first thing that strikes you is that the shifting of light does not trigger your headaches - you are blissfully pain free.

[fanfiction-library14]

me, quietly whispering to the ao3 page of an author who doesn’t even know I exist: I am obsessed with you

[fanfiction-library14]

Since I’ve been loving you

Fezco x Female Reader

Summary: The story of how Fez fell in love with his ray of sunshine

Word Count: 13.6K

Warnings: Drug use, mentions of sexual assault, anxiety and mental illness, mention of Nate Jacobs being an asshole and smut!

Part 2   Part 3   Part 4

~~

Fez was a picture of pure contentment as Rue practically skipped into the convenience store. The way the drug dealer stood, leaning against the wall with the beautiful woman draped over him, cemented him as one of the luckiest bastards in this small, cursed town. Anyone driving by could see it.

Rue smiled instinctively as she saw the couple, the blatant display of affection she still wasn’t quite used to seeing from good old, sweet and quiet Fezco, despite the fact that the couple had been together for years.

The two of them seemed meant to be, a concept she still had trouble wrapping her mind around.

Fezco and Stevie had a way about them, they always seemed to defy the odds. 

As soon as she saw the young girl walking towards the store, Stevie gasped, a bright smile growing on her face.

“Holy shit, Rue?” 

Rue waved weakly, but couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her as she was brought into a fiercely tight hug. Stevie was good that way. She had a way of making you feel like the most important person in the world. 

Weiterlesen

[fanfiction-library14]

she's so cute, the poor thing. what the fuck is he supposed to do with a pretty girl like this? (18+, a little smidge of dark!simon)

she's so dumb. she nods when he talks, says yes, simon, yeah when he asks her if he can take her home. she purrs yes, simon, m-more when he buries his masked face between her thighs as he makes her ride his covered mouth. she sings when he touches her, cries when his gloved fingers fuck her open, and she whines s-so good, simon, please, more, simon when he bottoms out into her soft cunt with all of his clothes still on.

vest strapped, thigh holsters still buckled, cargo pants still around his waist, nothing but his belt buckle open and his zipper down when he fucks you into the cushions of your couch. you're drooling, positively cock-stupid, bouncing with the rough rhythm he keeps. it's salvation, coming home to a pretty girl underneath him, and he wants to hold you hard enough to make you bleed when he grips the meat of your hips and watches your ass push back against him.

so dumb. so stupid. the prettiest girl he has ever seen, and she has no idea what it is that fucks the shape of them into her so that they will know if someone else has been here. she has no idea what the thing on top of her has done, has no idea how deranged and terrible his mind is, she doesn't know.

she never asked how he knew where she lived. she never asked how he knew which button to press in the elevator. she never asked how he knew to turn left instead of right. she never asked where he got that key, or why it worked when he opened up the door of her flat.

all she asks for is for him to fuck, please, simon--m-more!

she's so cute. she'll do just fine.

[fanfiction-library14]

WE NEEEDDDDD ROUGH FEZCO!

I feel like Fez isn't super affectionate in public

Sure he'll kiss your temple and sqeeze your hip, but that's about it

Until...

Let's just say that you fucked up without realizing you fucked up

A guy at a party got a little too flirtatious and after being warned once, he had to lay the guy out

With his warning came yours so when he gave you the look above, you knew to follow

You would apologize and try to make your case the whole way home, but he was slient until he just told you to shut the fuck up

And you did just that

Once in the privacy of your own home, however, all hell would break loose

Fezco. Tagged. That. Ass

He's not into belts, he likes the intimacy of hand to skin contact and the shape of them would be all over your backside

At this point you're begging for forgiveness and you think he's granted you mercy when he lets you off his lap, but no

"On the bed."

"Daddy, please. I said I was sorry."

He wouldn't have to say anything, just give you a look

I feel like he's into slight humilation, so you're definitely swallowing some of his sweet mouth nectar for even entertaining that other guy

He would bury himself to the hilt inside of you, lurching your body forward and you would cry out and immediately

You clench around his thickness as he wasted no time in pounding you into submission

You were his.

You could hear him grunt every time you slammed into you, the weight of his balls slapping against your sensitive bud.

One arm pinned your neck to the mattress and the other had a deathly grip on your hip to ensure he filled you entirely

You could only moan and whimper as your body rocked in tune with his thrusts. Tears of ecstasy and quite honestly fear escaped the corners of your eyes as your mouth hung open

‘’Feel how tight you are around me. Your pussy was made for me,’’ he growled, watching his cock disappear around your tight folds

"This is my fucking pussy."

You helpless and forced to take it allwas something he’d never get tired of seeing. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that you were tighter than the first time he took you.

He stopped thrusting for a second, reveling in the feeling of your walls throbbing around him; matching the hiccups of your moan-y sobs. He could’ve cum right there, but he wanted this to last. You had to learn not everyone is your friend

He was going to get through to you even if he had to fuck you until you passed out

[fanfiction-library14]

I’ve never seen someone write a Negan fic that included some Simon haha.

Idk why but Simon just- big psycho hottie energy, and I’d love a fic w some sort of Simon involvement. Even if Simon was just watching reader w Negan or degrading reader or something idk.

You know what I mean. Anywho! Enjoy my depraved thoughts haha

Hello my lovely. This one was fun. :)

Two in One

Negan x Reader x Simon (threesome)

Warnings: 18+, all smut no plot, threesome, simon and negan being extremely dominant and degrading with you, spitting, choking, double penetration, unprotected sex, anal, slight daddy kink, cum play

Note: I wrote this super quick so I'm sorry if it's not the greatest. It's just pure filth honestly.

"Oh fuuuck!" You cry out as Negan pounds into you from behind.

You barely even notice the knock on Negan's bedroom door before Negan calls out annoyed. "Yeah?!"

"Got a situation, boss." Simon says, opening the door and walking in before looking up and stopping at the sight of you bent over taking Negan's cock.

Negan continues thrusting into you as he looks to Simon. "Seriously man? Little fuckin' busy here." He says unsteadily.

"I see that." Simon's eyebrows raise as he studies you. You stare back at him, resting the side of your reddened face on the bed as Negan rails you relentlessly.

You whimper with your eyes locked on Simon, deliberately putting on a show for him. The idea of someone watching you has always turned you on, and you secretly hope Negan let's him stay.

As if reading your mind, Negan motions with his gloved hand for Simon to come closer to the bed. "What's the situation?" He asks out of breath before sliding his hand across your ass and squeezing firmly.

Simon glances to you hesitantly before speaking, letting Negan know what's going on inside the walls of the sanctuary. But you're too focused on what's going on inside the walls of your cunt to notice what they're yapping about. Frustrated with their endless conversation, you slam your ass into Negan's hips repeatedly, meeting his hard thrusts as you moan loud and purposely.

"Goddamn it." Negan grunts, cutting Simon off mid sentence before pulling you up by your hair until your back is pressed against his chest. Your head leans back on his shoulder as your eyes connect with Simon's. "Can't even fuckin' hear him over all the goddamn noise you're making, sweetheart. Does daddy make you feel that good or do you just like an audience?" His hand reaches up to wrap around your throat as his dick glides in and out of you at a steady pace.

"Both" Your whine out, struggling against the restriction of his hand around your neck.

Simon's eyes roam down your naked torso, stopping at the intersection of your pussy and Negan's dick pumping inside you. The fact that Negan is openly fucking you in front of Simon makes you even hotter and can't deny.. you love being watched.

Negan chuckles before biting his bottom lip and looking at Simon, who's zoned out watching your tits bounce with each thrust.

"Simon, you heard her. My girl wants an audience. Get on the bed and watch how fuckin' good I make her pussy feel." Negan demands, sliding completely out of you before pushing on your back and shoving you down back in your original position. You fall over, catching yourself on your forearms as you settle on your knees and Simon is already in the bed in front of you with his back leaned against the headboard as he stretches his legs out on either side of you, settling in comfortably.

You can't help but notice the large bulge behind his boxers as he proudly flaunts it in your face. If you leaned down further, you could easily suck him off but you wait patiently for Negan's permission.

The bed dips behind you as Negan climbs in on his knees, immediately burying his face in your dripping cunt and eating you like his life depends on it.

You make an o-shape with your mouth at the sudden sensation of Negan's tongue entering you from behind as you lock eyes with Simon.

"One rule." Negan says into your pussy, speaking to you and Simon. "No kissing."

That's all the permission Simon needs before letting his cock spring free from the slit in his boxers and shoving your head down on his cock. "Ahh, fuck." He moans, gripping your hair tightly in his palm.

"She can take it deeper than that. And she likes it fuckin' rough." Negan tells Simon as he finally comes up for air and lines himself up at your entrance, your juices glistening in his stubbly beard.

"Good." Simon answers him before returning his gaze to your mouth wrapped around him. "Cause we are going to ruin you, sweetheart." Without warning, he shoves your head completely down his length and you immediately gag around him but he doesn't let you come up. Instead, he holds your head down until tears fill your eyes and you desperately struggle to breath. Your palms push desperately against his thighs as you fight to come up.

"Don't you dare pass out on us." Simon says, finally letting you come up for air for a moment before repeating the process. You're even more out of breath this time and can feel yourself growing weaker. "Pathetic little slut." He chuckles.

Just when you feel like you might actually pass out, Negan shoves himself deep inside of you, hitting your cervix. Simon finally lets you come up for air and you inhale a deep breath, followed by an embarrassing moan.

"Breathe, baby." Negan says from behind you. "You tell daddy the safe word if it's too much. Understood?"

"Yes sir." You whimper as Negan cock fills your hole and your head drops down. Without missing a beat, Negan reaches forward to wrap his fingers around your hair as he pulls your head up like a puppet. "Let him see your face when I fuck you, baby. Show him how good daddy makes you feel."

Negan pounds into you unforgivably, hitting a spot deeper than you ever thought possible as animalistic sounds flow from his mouth. Seems like you're not the only one who likes extra company in the bedroom.

You moan with him, not taking your eyes off Simon's until your gaze flashes to his mouth, daring him to kiss you. You know it's against Negan's rule, which only makes you want it more. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you boldly lean forward, attempting to press your lips to Simon's but he quickly grabs your throat, stopping you before you reach them.

"Oh you better be fuckin' jokin'." Negan says, his voice dripping with anger as he pulls out of you and roughly flips your body over. You look up at him with innocent eyes as you lay on your back between Simon's legs.

"S-sorry daddy."

"That was a big fuckin' mistake. You know I simply can't let that slide, right?" He asks, leaning over and squeezing his hand around your throat.

"C'mon man." Simon interrupts. "She can't help it.. she's just a desperate little whore. Aren't you sweetheart?" He asks, looking down at you. "You wanna fuckin' taste me? Open up." Simon squeezes your jaw before open before spitting directly into your mouth.

Negan's eyes glaze over with lust and pure darkness, scarier than anything you've seen before. "I think she fuckin' likes it." Negan says, squeezing your throat tighter and leaning directly over you, letting his own saliva drip into your mouth. You moan as your swallow the mix of their spit and they both grin down at you proudly. "Didn't realize what a total slut my wife was.. think you need to be punished." Negan's eyes dart back and forth between yours as he hovers above you. "I am going to fucking break you, sweetheart." He grins devilishly before letting go of your throat and pushing three of his fingers inside of you without giving you time to adjust. You cry out as his digits rip through you before he inserts another.

"Negan... it hurts." You whimper truthfully, but the pain turns you on even more and Negan knows it.

He chuckles as he pushes his hand into you, groaning at how wide he's stretching you. While Negan fists your pussy relentlessly as Simon positions himself on his knees beside you, shoving his cock in your mouth as he roughly turns your head to the side. "Gonna put these holes to use, babygirl." He grunts, filling the back of your throat as you whimper around him and struggle to breathe.

Tears flow from your eyes when Negan's hand pulls out of you and he grabs your throat, pulling you to your knees in front of them. Both men's cocks stand proud and leaking precum right in your face and you practically moan at the sight of them.

Simon's hand grips the back of your hair, angling your head back as you look up at them. Negan wipes the mascara running down your face with his thumb as he smirks. "So pretty like this.. On your knees and ready for us."

You look up at Negan innocently before turning your attention to Simon as he chimes in. "Open that pretty little mouth, sweetheart." He guides his length towards your mouth again and you open, taking him down your throat. Before you can adjust to the size of him again, Negan's thumb hooks on the inside of your cheek, widening your mouth as he shoves his own dick inside. You open wide, allowing them to use your mouth as they sloppily thrust and groan, letting their cocks rub against each other inside your warm, wet mouth.

You moan at the taste of their salty precum dripping down your throat as you reach your hand between your legs and attempt to rub at your clit but Negan stops you, grabbing your wrist and tossing you on your back.

"Wanna watch you ride his cock, baby. Put on a fucking show for me. Make daddy proud." Negan says before kissing your lips and lightly gripping your throat. "But remember who you fucking belong to."

"Y-yes sir."

Simon lays next to you, urging you to climb on top and straddle him and you let him guide you, hovering yourself over his cock while Negan relaxes his back against the headboard, eager to watch you put on a show for him.

You lock eyes with Negan as you slowly slide down on Simon's cock, making a groan fall from Simon's mouth. "Such a tight little cunt."

Negan watches you with glazed eyes as you bounce up and down on Simon. Your eyes drop to his lap, watching his hand stroke his painfully hard cock. "That's it baby. Take his fuckin' cock, you slut." Negan says through his teeth, leaning his head back against the headboard. "That's my dirty little girl."

"Negan.. I want you too."

"Yeah? Beg for my cock baby."

"Please daddy. Please, please. I need you." You whimper.

"Such a desperate whore. One dick isn't enough for you sweetheart?" Simon chuckles underneath you, tightly gripping your hips as you ride him.

Negan moves from his spot to settle in behind you, sliding his tip through your slippery folds before he sinks inside of you. You cry at the ripping sensation in your cunt as your walls are stretched to the limit with both of them inside of you. "Ohh my god. Fuck.. it hurts."

"Feels pretty good if you ask me." Simon says, thrusting up into you.

"Always about you, selfish little girl. I told you.. we are going to use you. You're nothing but a fucking hole to us, doll." Negan says, pulling you against his chest by your throat. You lean your back against his chest as your head rests against his shoulder. You can't deny that his cruel words sting, but the thought of them using you to get off lights a fire inside of you and you completely succumb to them in that moment, willing to let them have their way with you however they please.

Negan's head falls back at the intense pleasure as his cock slides against Simon's inside you. The veins in Simon's neck protrude as you stare down at him. Between Simon's hand squeezing your neck and Negan's animalistic noises filling the air, you feel your walls tighten as your orgasm approaches quickly. "Fuck.. I'm gonna.."

Before you can come, Negan's hand yanks your hair, making your head fall back and a loud moan escape your throat. Negan pulls out of you and you whine from the loss. "Negan.. please.."

"Only way you're allowed to cum is with my dick in your ass. You ready for me baby?"

Your eyes widen as you hesitantly shake your head no. "I - I don't think -"

"Of course you don't, sweetheart." Simon interjects while chuckling from underneath you. "Dumb little slut."

Negan smirks, releasing his grip on your hair and guiding the tip of his cock to your tighter hole, rubbing it teasingly in circles. "You like being treated like a whore, baby? Getting goddamn humiliated?"

When you don't answer, Simon grips your throat again, making you look at him. "He asked you a question, sweetheart."

Your eyes squeeze shut as you nod your head embarrassed.

"Good." Negan says from behind you. "Then I won't feel bad when I do this..." And that's all the warning he gives before spreading your cheeks apart and ramming his cock balls deep inside your ass.

You practically scream as he rips you apart. It hurts.. and the your safe word lingers on your tongue but you bite it back, not wanting them to stop.

Negan pumps into you without giving you time to adjust and you bite down on your lip so hard that you eventually taste blood. Tears pour out of your eyes as both men use your holes to feel good. They moan loudly as you sob, starting to feel your orgasm return.

"Oh my goddddd. Fuuuuuuck." You come embarrassingly hard from the pain and pleasure and their own orgasms come close.

"You want me to fill this ass up with my cum sweetheart?" Negan asks, gritting his teeth.

You nod, still riding out your orgasm as Simon lets out a groan from below you, slowing down his thrusts. The moan that escapes his throat tells you that he's about to come and Negan pulls you off of him quickly, not wanting Simon to come inside you. He lays back on the bed and brings you with him, so that you're in reverse cowgirl position on top of him with his dick still impaling your ass. It's painfully uncomfortable, but turns you on more than you thought possible. You ride Negan's cock as you watch the come shoot from Simon's tip, licking your lips at the sight.

"What are you fucking looking at? Clean me up." Simon says, nodding his head towards the ropes of white cum spread across his stomach as he rises to his knees on the bed in front of you.

You lick a line from his pubes to the top of his stomach as you moan at the salty taste of him. "Maybe you are a good girl after all." He says proudly, looking down at you.

Negan slams your hips down on him, halting suddenly to fill you up. He groans loudly when he shoots inside of you. "Godddddamn, Fuck. Fuck."

You fall to the bed, completely spent and out of breath.

"Well that was fun." Simon says, resting his hands on his hips and looking to Negan. "Same time tomorrow, boss?"

"...Don't fucking push it."

[fanfiction-library14]

Embrace your true, natural place.

[fanfiction-library14]

Easy Access

Relationship: Negan x fem!Reader

Content: free use kink, fingering, p in v, dom/sub dynamic, overall dirty talk, breeding kink

Summary: After becoming one of Negan’s wives, you soon come to find out exactly why he prefers you all in dresses. One day, when Negan instructs you to wear less than normal, you discover something that riles him up more than anything.

A/N: This is my first Negan story, and although it’s just a oneshot, I hope you all enjoy!

The last few months had become a blur. One day, you were captured by the Saviors from your small community, seemingly the next Negan was scouting you out to be his new wife. Originally opposed to the idea, worries of feeling like a prize than a person, Negan had shown you that he gives each of the wives individual attention. After surviving in the post-apocalypse world, wearing dresses again was foreign. Something about the outfit reminded you of your safety - that would wouldn’t have to run to live anymore, that you could finally focus on your looks again.

Your ‘job’, if you could call it that, was to be beautiful and obedient, though the obedience part was sometimes difficult. But, you had proven yourself to your leader and remained faithful to him. He delivered above and beyond any sexual experience you had before him, leaving you absolutely starstruck and hungry for more when you had time together.

Yesterday Negan had instructed you to ‘forget the panties’ today, so all that was left what your elegant black sundress, a bra, and your heels. The feeling of the occasional breeze up your bare legs was odd, but something tightened in your stomach when Negan saw you in the afternoon, when the wives met with him to relax together.

Though the room was full of other gorgeous women, Negan could tear his eyes away from you, slowly trailing down your bare legs crossed in front of you. Goosebumps rose on your skin, an anticipation of what could happen if his hands wandered over you. As the wives talked to one another, you sipped a glass of white wine as you made eye contact with Negan. He gave you a lazy grin, to which you met it with a polite smile. His gloved hand pointed to his lap, a silent command to join him which you would happily oblige to.

You slowly walked over, swaying your hips in your new dress that hugged every curve in a way that made Negan drool over you. He greeted you with open arms as you settled onto him, resting his broad hands on your hips. As he gave idle small talk to the other wives his fingers teasingly moved across the fabric of your dress.

“So,” his husky whisper reached your ears, “you have anything on under this?”

You turned your head to him and shook it, eliciting a devilish grin from your husband. One of Negan’s fingers hooked at the hem of your dress tauntingly. Red painted your cheeks in a way that made Negan roll his hips up into yours, his hardened erection pressing against your ass.

“Ladies, I appreciate you taking the time to come here today. But, I do have some business to discuss with this one here,” he patted your leg, “This evening, I’m planning on hosting a dinner for all of you lovely wives, but in the meantime I’m gonna have to ask you all to head to your rooms.”

A few of the wives glanced your way in confusion, but your expression showed them that you had no clue what was going on either. Dutifully they left the room, leaving you and your husband to yourselves.

Silence fell in the room until Negan spoke again, making sure anyone else was out of earshot.

“Do you know why I asked you to ditch those panties for me?”

Your breath hitched slightly at his question, to which you shook your head, “No, sir.”

“Well, you see, my dear wife, I will let you know that it does happen to be a quite selfish reason,” he drawled on as a hand tugged at your dress. Negan hooked his fingers underneath and lifted the fabric until it rested at your hips.

With your thighs completely bare you shivered against the chill of the room.

“You’re shaking. You cold, sweetness?” You nodded to his question.

“Don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours, I’m gonna find a way to warm you up pretty soon,” he muttered against your ear. The warmth of his breath across your skin left you with your head rolling back to his shoulder as your legs spread for his touch.

Negan let out a low chuckle while his hands wandered upward toward the apex of your thighs. What your husband didn’t know was that ever since he eyed you in the meeting, the heat in your abdomen had left you soaked for him. Your slick covered your inner thighs, inviting him in to let his greedy fingers to take over your senses. Dipping a single finger between your folds, Negan let out a low growl of approval.

“And look at that,” he cooed, “you’re just dripping for me, ain’t you, sweet girl?”

Your hips bucked at his touch, a silent plead for more of his skilled fingers. Negan ran slow circles over your swollen clit, helping you ride through the pleasure as your breaths came out in shaky spurts.

“I thought having your pussy bare to the world could give me some excitement, but I think it may have done that to you, too, angel,” he breathed against your neck, “But you see, my dear wife, the reason I asked you to do that was so we wouldn’t have so many damn clothes in the way.”

You gripped his hand with your own, tugging at it lower to slide his digits to your entrance. Unfortunately this isn’t what Negan had in mind. He urged your hands away that brought a whine from your throat.

“Can’t having you getting handsy, darlin’,” breathed Negan, “‘cause right now, this pussy doesn’t belong to you. And I want you to take a wild guess as to who owns it.”

You hated when he made you use your words, but it gave Negan a thrill when you spoke up in a pleading voice, “You do.”

“I’m sorry, what was that, sugar?”

“It’s… yours.”

“And what is ‘it’, my love?” He demanded softly, tugging your arms back. Negan shifted to create space between you and pinned your arms against his torso, keeping you from breaking free and exposing your aching cunt to him.

“My… my pussy. It’s yours, sir,” that had satisfied him, erupting a groan against your beck. Negan left warm, sloppy kisses along your skin until he reached your ear.

“Now,” he softly spoke, “I’m gonna use this pretty little pussy until I’m drained. That cunt of yours is gonna take my cock and milk it dry. You understand?”

You desperately nodded, arching your back in reply. Negan brought one hand to your chest while the other remained trained on your pussy. The hand on your chest pulled at the straps of your sundress over your shoulders to expose your chest, covered by your bra. Negan’s fingers idly played with your clit as he unhooked your bra. The two of you wiggled you out of it, and now fully bare under your dress, Negan let the straps fall, your breasts laid out for his pleasure.

Two fingers took a nipple and gently twisted, drawing out a sharp moan from you. Negan’s fingers teased the entrance of your drenched cunt, inviting him inside.

“You see how much easier this is, sweetheart? We don’t have all of those pesky underthings in the way of me using you,” he explained in a husky voice. He pulled his hands away without warning. You let out a soft gasp in protest, but he was already freeing your arms from behind your back.

“Stand up for me, baby girl,” commanded Negan, to which you obliged. You stood with shaking knees between his legs, his large erection rock hard in his jeans. Your husband eyed you carefully, “Let’s see you take that dress off. I need to see my beautiful wife in all of that glory.”

You heeded his instruction and lifted the dress over your head, falling to the floor beneath you. Negan beckoned you over with a finger before removing his pants and boxers, springing his cock free to rest against his stomach. At the sight, you could’ve sworn your mouth began to water, eager for him in any way he pleasured you.

“I’m not using that beautiful mouth today. Right now, I need that tight pussy swallowing my cock into you.”

He coaxed you into his lap, his hard length pressing against your soaked folds. Negan took your hips in his hands, dragging you back and forth along his member. Your knees had become weak, slumping against Negan as the pleasure came over you. His hands cupped your ass and lifted you above his length, lining the thick head with your entrance.

“Go on, baby, I wanna see you take me in,” muttered Negan. Your hips lowered onto him, filling your aching heat with his thick girth. As you settled down, and your moans evened out, Negan took your arms into his hands, placing them behind your back with his fingers wrapped around your wrist.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” he whispered as you rode him gently.

“Get nice and settled for me, babydoll. I’m gonna take care of you, ‘kay?�� His voice filled your senses completely, your mouth agape in ecstasy. Negan braced his feet on the floor to buck his hips upward, sending his cock deeper into your pussy. He groaned at the sensation, the mix of your noises creating a harmony of lust.

The strokes started out at an excruciatingly slow pace; eventually Negan began to pick up speed, the head of his cock crashing against your cervix. You weren’t sure how much of this you could take, though your moans fully took you over, carrying out throughout the room.

“I know, sweetheart,” he said sweetly, “I know it feels good, being stuffed with cock all nice and full. How about you cum for me, can you do that, darlin’?”

Almost at the very command, you tightened around his length, drawing out a groan from you husband while his cock bruised your cunt. The thrusts became harsher, striking in deep spots you couldn’t have imagined. Small cries fell past your lips: his name, pleads for more, pleads for him to use you as he saw fit.

“Damn, you’re just about fucked dumb, aren’t ya, sweetheart? Ain’t much else in there except wanting to be a cock sleeve,” Negan growled into your ear. “And might I say, you might just milk my cock for all its worth, the way you’re getting tight for me.”

Something taught in your abdomen snapped at his words, your pleasure erupting wildly around his cock. His thrusts remained as powerful as before, fucking you senselessly through your orgasm. You shook around him, arching your back as you fell quickly into another. The way his cock hit every inch of you sent shockwaves through your nerves, the climaxes hitting you in quick succession. Each time you fell apart for him, Negan seemed to unravel just as much, the only sounds in the room being the occasional growl from him, and the slapping of his skin against your drenched thighs.

Negan brought his mouth to your neck, mumuring sweet nothings until he reached your ear, whispering something that tightened your pussy around him yet again.

“I’ve got one rule, sweet thing,” he began, “I’m about to fill you up into next week, and I don’t want you to waste a single drop of it.”

You hoped that your body could do that. Not out of concern of a punishment, but in hopes to follow his every command perfectly. Negan’s thrusts became more erratic before he let out a rough grunt, his cock throbbing inside of your cunt as he spilled his warm load into you. You clenched around his length to keep his cum inside as he commanded.

“Attagirl,” he breathed heavily, “now, I’m gonna lift you up, and we’ll both watch all of the cum drip right outta you.” Your breath hitched at this, lifting your shaking hips up until his length left you feeling hollow. Warmth dripped past from pussy, to which Negan roughly opened up your legs further to give you both a good show. White ropes of cum dripped from you and onto his length, twitching against his abdomen.

“Now that’s a pretty sight. Look at how much you took, babydoll,” he praised, bringing a finger to your slick, bringing a shudder from you on your sensitive clit.

“You’re far prettier with my cum spilling outta you. All nice and filled up.”

Your breaths remained heavy as you watched the amount that leaked from your folds, over his fingers and onto his palm.

“Say, we should make a day of this,” he proposed. You looked at him in slight confusion while he slipped a finger into your soaked pussy, curling inside of you to strike your g-spot.

“I want… to set aside a day, just the two of us, for somethin’ special.” Negan pumped his fingers in and out of you slowly, “I want to see how much of me you can take in a day. We’ll see just how much cum this pussy can hold.”

The idea shattered you around him, clenching around his fingers as your orgasm soaked his hands.

“Oh, you like the idea of that.” He questioned, “What do you say, wanna be a cock sleeve for a day?”

You dumbly nodded, to which Negan smiled.

“Don’t you worry. This was just a practice round.”

Thank you all for reading! I definitely have plans to expand upon this, so be prepared.

[fanfiction-library14]

Katou Kahoru

[fanfiction-library14]

until i find you.

Lord!Morpheus x Reader (Victorian Era AU) One-shot

Run-through: You work in the Lord’s manor as a servant. Lord Morpheus was a busy man; always working or hosting parties to entertain his equally rich friends. And cleaning and dusting was not the only thing you did at the manor. Lord Morpheus had needs and fantasies that he often asked you to cater to and indulge in - and he paid you handsomely for all your services. Your exploits have always been transactional and secretive of course, for various reasons. But over time, things changed. And when one night somebody else starts to show interest in you, Morpheus is forced to remind everyone - including yourself - that you belong to no one but him. 

Themes: smut, explicit language, dom!morpheus, degrading kink, fluff, voyeurism, a little morpheus x hob/ morpheus x reader x hob action (brief, no threesomes), possessive!morpheus, one very smutty hide and seek leading to slight primal play

a/n: this is quite long :) 

“Lord Morpheus is asking for you upstairs.” 

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[fanfiction-library14]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 · 𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧

gif credit @forchrisevans

summary: After a rough day, Lloyd uses you to unwind.

warnings: lloyd hansen x fem!reader. smut. dark. toxic relationship. forced alcohol consumption. dirty talk. praise/degradation. oral sex (m+f receiving). tears. threats. slight anal play. rough everything cause it’s Lloyd. dubcon but all parties are willing in their own fucked up way. no beta.

word count: 2,663

author’s note: inspired from the gif above. i need this man to tear me apart 🥹

☽ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐎𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ☾    

“Sunshine!” Lloyd bellows as he crosses his office, zeroing in on the bottle of Glenlivet that’s stored in his liquor cabinet, and grabs a crystal glass.

His nerves are still sizzling from the adrenaline of being in a shoot-out earlier in the day. It was an easy mark but nothing got his blood pumping more than being in the middle of live fire.

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