#quit your job. play dolls with me.

[jinbugs]

[sttoru]

OKAY IK YOU JUST DID SATORU BUT BOOBOBSESSED!TOJI PLEASE !!

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. husband!toji fushiguro x wife!female reader. smut, pwp. mention of bôōb job, m. māsturbation. brēast play. reader gets called ‘doll, girl’ not proofread

“tojiiii, i just came home,” you whine as the black-haired man lifts you up and brings you over to the couch the second you step into your shared apartment.

it’s become a part of your daily routine at this point. every time you come home, you’re put on the couch or bed and your clothes come off. it doesn’t necessarily have to lead to sex—sometimes your husband does it to comfort you and relieve your stress (and his).

“yeah, i know, doll,” toji responds in a gruff voice. he lifts your shirt up over your head and leaves chaste kisses on your shoulders and collarbone, “jus’ let me take care of you, ‘kay?” you can feel his stubble, making you realise that he did not shave. not that you’re complaining.

in fact, you’re the one who told him that you prefer it when he has a little stubble. it’s so sexy on toji—especially during the early mornings, when you wake up next to him, his muscular body on full display with that lazy look in his eyes. it makes you drool every time.

you hum shortly in agreement. toji licks a strip over your collarbone before swiftly undoing your bra. he watches your tits bounce free from their confines and he groans, feeling his cock swell in his boxer shorts already.

“been needing to suck on those,” he sighs. he shamelessly attaches his lips to your nipple, tongue flicking out to taste your plump flesh. it’s an addiction at this point. not a day goes by where toji doesn’t leave your breasts alone.

he either has to knead them while he watches a show or lazily suck on them while you cuddle. he can’t help it—your tits are just a delicious treat he wishes to indulge in every second of the day. even when toji is out of the house, images of your perfectly round chest keep him from focusing on the road ahead.

hell; one time toji even had to pull his car to the side so he could quickly palm himself through his boxers, simply because of your tits. he had one of his hands under his pants and the other held his phone, scrolling through pictures that captured your bust well.

“fuck,” toji curses under his breath. he groans with nearly every suckle, his eyes closed like he’s experiencing euphoria. you run your fingers through his hair, your back arching off the couch a little. your husband massages your other breast, his tongue quickly circling your swollen nipple like a touch starved man, “mh, can’t stop. fuckin’ delicious. wanna keep on suckin’ em.”

toji pinches your other nipple which causes you to moan loudly. it’s like your stress is quite literally being sucked out of your body. every suckle motion makes you relax even more in his embrace.

“babe, i need t’ make dinner,” you mutter between soft whimpers. you know it’s futile saying that—toji is not going to let you go. once he’s got you, he’s keeping you for the rest of the day.

the black-haired man rolls his eyes at your words while he’s actively sucking on your tit. he looks up at you before detaching his lips from your hardened nipple. there’s a wet spot of his saliva left over your chest.

“no need,” toji rasps, kissing the valley of your breasts. his dick twitches at the thought of being sunk between your tits, his cum shooting from the tip and coating your breasts and face white. “got my dinner right here,” he sighs and wraps his lips around your other nipple.

you moan at the stimulation. you tug at toji’s hair from the pleasure, your hips bucking up to grind against that hard bulge that’s been pressed between your thighs since the beginning. your husband hisses at the contact and bites on the sensitive nub.

“easy, girl,” toji growls, his eyes darkening with lust, “just a little more, mhm? i’ll give it to ya real good after.” he’s nearly going insane from the sensations. his hips grind back slowly against your core while his face is buried against your tits. the pair is getting equal attention, either from his lips and tongue or skilled fingers.

the pleasure is unending. you want nothing more than to return the favor to your lover, but with how things are going, that’s going to take a while. you’re going to need to pry toji away from your tits; he won’t leave them on his own free will.

if it was up to him, he’d live there forever, right between your tits.

[libingan]

im actually so fuckign exhausted yall. i spend 1hr and 30 minutes traveling to my college only for the fuckin professor to talk for five minutes

im done. i hate college.

anw, this is bimbofication w price x fem! reader

every detail in your life had been meticulously planned. you’d once been known as the brilliant strategist in your company, always thinking five steps ahead. but with that sharp mind came a constant stream of stress—late nights, deadlines, and an ever-growing burden that threatened to swallow you whole. then, john price entered your life.

john was everything you never knew you needed. his presence was calming, his touch gentle, and his words reassuring. he quickly became the anchor you clung to, offering you something you hadn't realized you'd been missing: a chance to let go.

he made it easy, too. "you don't have to think, love. let me do that for you," he'd say, his voice warm and full of promise. gradually, the stress began to melt away. you quit your job, stopped worrying about decisions, and let john take care of everything. he made sure of it.

now, your days are filled with relaxation and mindless entertainment. you're his pretty little doll, and you couldn't be happier. no more complex thoughts or worries—just simple pleasures and the warmth of john's love.

this evening is no different. you're lounging on the couch, playing a word game on your phone. the letters swirl together in your mind, forming simple words. it’s almost instinctual; you're not really thinking, just passing the time until john comes home.

you hear the door open, and your heart flutters with excitement. you don’t even bother looking up, too focused on the game as the familiar sound of his footsteps grows nearer. he comes up behind you, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head.

"are you thinking again, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice a low, affectionate rumble. you can feel his breath against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "you know daddy doesn’t like it when you do."

you pause, suddenly feeling a little guilty. you know better than to let your mind wander too much. "just a word game, daddy," you mumble, setting your phone aside. you look up at him, your eyes wide and apologetic.

his clicks his tongue, and he reaches out to gently cup your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "yes, a word game. you need your brain for that, baby girl."

a small pout tugs at your lips and when john holds out his hand, you reluctantly place your phone on his hand.

“atta girl,” he murmurs, placing your phone on the coffee table.

john circles his arms around your waist, pulling you to his lap, your back pressed up against his chest. “do i have to empty out that pretty little head of yours, sweet thing?” he whispers, low and sultry. you shudder at his tone, feeling that familiar rush of heat burst through your veins.

he chuckles at your reaction, hands roaming down your body, lightly squeezing your tits before traveling further below. once his hands were at your lap, he gently pulls your thighs apart. “gonna be good for me, sweet girl?”

his words alone send a spark of arousal down to your core, a small whine escaping your lips as you nod.

john leans in, kissing the spot behind your ear. he hooks one hand under your thigh, pulling it up to your chest, your skirt hiking up to expose your bare cunt to the air.

“no panties? dirty girl.” he mutters, his free hand inching closer to your pussy, two fingers finding their way to your clit and pinching down hard.

“ah—!” you gasp, legs instinctively shutting. john tuts, keeping your right thigh help up firmly to your chest. “behave yourself, doll.”

a small, high-pitched whimper escapes you as you try to ease your muscles.

“there we go,” he chuckles, “good girl.” john’s fingers release your clit, sliding down to push your lips apart. “daddy’s gonna help you, okay? make sure not a single thought comes into your dumb little head ever again.”

john’s fingers gently pad against the sensitive nub, rubbing slow, teasing circles against it. a low moan escapes you, eyes fluttering shut. your head tips back, falling on to john’s shoulder.

“that’s it, sweetheart,” he lovingly coos, a small smile forming on his lips as your hips buck against his hand. “my pretty girl,” he says, “only need to think about looking good and feeling good. isn’t that right, baby?”

just as you were about to respond, john fastens the pace of his hands, pressing down harder on your clit, massaging the swollen nub with newfound fervor.

“a-ah—! oh! daddy! f-feels s’good!” you cry out, already feeling that familiar sensation in your belly.

you’re close. so close.

“oh, i know that look,” john pipes up, his voice taking a more teasing tone. “go on, sweet thing. cum for daddy.”

he gathers the slickness from your cunt, dragging it back up to your clit, continuing his unrelenting pace. the lack of frictions makes your toes curl, hands flying back to grasp at john’s back.

however, just before you could finally go over the point of no return, john pulls his fingers away, eliciting a loud, resounding “no!” from you, hips desperately chasing after that delicious feeling.

you hear john chuckle darkly from behind your, pulling your skirt back down before easily lifting you up.

“daddy…?”

“you were thinking without my permission, baby. daddy needs to remind you who’s in charge here.”

[daddy-dotcom]

Bet on Me

Spencer Reid x Sugarbaby Reader

Spencer Reid never loses, especially when the prize is you.

Summary: Reader is a sugar baby for Reid's opponent, and he bets a night with her if he loses to Reid.

Warnings: Smut, unprotected p in v, bj, swearing ig?

----------------------------------------------

This wasn't the first time he'd done this. Granted, the Boss only did it when he was losing a lot of money and needed to sacrifice his "lucky charm." However, this was the first time he bet me and lost, to a man half his age nonetheless. I never liked being used as a gambling chip, but he lost so rarely that I didn't dwell on it too much. The man he was playing only gave us his first name, Spencer, and damn was he good. If I didn't know any better, I would say he was counting the cards. He was slightly cocky, but not in the way that the Boss's usual opponents were. He knew he was good, but he wasn't arrogant. There was an air of confidence to him, almost as if he was guaranteed to win, which was exactly what he did. I'd never seen the Boss this upset before, practically throwing a tantrum on the casino floor. But Spencer won fair and square, more specifically, he had won me. 

Under normal circumstances, he would have bet on me as a last resort against some other equally sleazy old man. He would have won and I wouldn't have to worry about the idea of sleeping with a man who I didn't know and who had zero respect for boundaries. While the Boss wasn't exactly in his prime anymore, at least he paid me well and we had strict boundaries in place. But whenever he bet on me, I had no idea what I would be getting into. Something about Spencer being young immediately eased my nerves, especially since he was so lanky and boyish. He was probably close to my age, but you would never be able to tell because he looked like he was barely old enough to be gambling. 

"Just go on and get it over with, doll, I'll pick you up in the morning," the Boss said irritably. 

I made my way over to Spencer, who was the only one left sitting at the poker table. He sat quite awkwardly for a man who had just swept the entire table. All of the confidence from before had completely melted away. 

"Well it looks like I'm yours for the night, Spencer. I'm (Y/N) by the way." 

I leaned against the poker table, making sure to show off my best assets. If I was going to have to spend the night with him, I at least wanted to have some fun. Between my day job and being a part-time sugar baby, I didn't have the time or energy to date much. So I planned on taking full advantage of the situation. Even if I didn't end up sleeping with Spencer, there was something about him that made me want to get to know him. 

"Nice to meet you, (Y/N)" he said, and I could tell he was avoiding my gaze. This was most likely because from where he was sitting, his line of sight was directly at my boobs. 

"C'mon Spencer, let me buy you a drink."

"Shouldn't I be the one buying you a drink?" he asked, looking puzzled. 

"Looks like you need it more than I do, pretty boy." I said with a smile as I pulled him by the hand towards the bar. 

------------

"I'm not a hooker by the way. Just putting that out there . . ." I said, suddenly matching Spencer's awkwardness. 

"I figured as much," he replied before taking a sip of his drink. "You're very well dressed and your jewelry is definitely real. Which could mean you're a high-end prostitute, which isn't uncommon for Vegas, but your relationship is too close for him to just be a repeat customer. So I assumed you were either a sugar baby or a trophy wife." 

"Wow. You got all that just by watching us?"

"It's kind of my job." 

"You a PI or something? What kind of job allows you to pick up on all that Mr...?" 

"Reid. And it's Dr. Reid actually. I work in the behavioral analysis unit of the FBI."

"No kidding! You? The lanky yet mysterious card counter who hasn't looked me in the eye this entire conversation, works for the FBI?"

“Yes and for the record, I wasn’t counting the cards. . .at least not this time,” he said with the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips. 

Feeling a little tipsy, I replied by saying "you know, around here that acronym FBI usually stands for Female-"

"Body Inspector, yes I'm familiar with the joke. I grew up getting my head dunked in the toilet by bullies wearing those cheap souvenir shirts from Circus Circus" 

"Ah so you're a local too?"

“Yes ma’m, Las Vegas born and raised,” he said before taking another sip of his drink. I took the opportunity to ask him another question. 

“So do you have me figured out yet, pretty boy?” 

“Well I don’t see a ring on your finger,” he said while finally looking me right in the eyes, “so that leads me to the conclusion that you are a sugar baby.” 

I could tell the effects of the alcohol were starting to creep to the surface because he wouldn’t break eye contact with me and his body began leaning towards me when he spoke instead of away. He was less guarded and almost flirtatious, in his own adorable way. 

“Ding ding ding, you got me Dr. Reid. I, uh, work as a lab assistant during the day but being his sugar baby is helping with the crushing weight of my student debt.” 

“I’m sorry that you have to spend your evenings with that jerk, (Y/N). That was mostly my motivation for accepting his offer to bet on you. I hope you know I wasn’t planning on taking advantage of you or anything, I just wanted to give you a night off from your boss.” 

My gaze softened and I tried to push away the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of my eyes. 

“That was the sweetest thing anyone’s done for me in a long time, Spencer. Thank you,” I said, gently placing a hand on his thigh. 

I saw a wave of crimson begin to appear on his cheeks and he flashed me a smile before saying, “It was my pleasure. I don’t mean to brag but I have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187, all of this to say I’m pretty good at cards.”

“Wow! Handsome and smart? Guess you’re not the only one who hit the jackpot tonight,” I said while raising my eyebrows, “but I don’t see a ring on your finger either, Dr. Reid. You’re alone at a bar in Vegas with a pretty girl, so I’m assuming you don’t have anyone waiting for you back home?” I asked, suddenly very interested to know if this smart and adorably sweet man was single.

“So you’ve been profiling me too,” he said with a chuckle, “to answer your question, no I don’t have a wife or a girlfriend or anything like that,” he said, almost enthusiastically. Taking that as a sign, I quickly asked, 

“Would you want to come upstairs with me? I just feel so comfortable talking to you and technically you still have the rest of the night with me,” I said with pleading eyes. 

“Um . . .sure!” he said with both hesitation and excitement, which I’m assuming is because his desire is going against his better judgment as an FBI agent. 

“You agreed to that awfully fast for someone who works for the FBI.” 

“I’m not worried. I’ve been watching my drink the entire night, and I’ve been profiling you, remember?” 

At this point, we were both beaming at each other like a couple of idiots; I had to stop myself from yanking this man’s arm making a run for the elevator. 

———

"It's nice to be with a guy who doesn't have an AARP card for once." 

"Actually, it’s a common misconception that the service is limited to people 50 and over. You can apply for a membership once you turn 18," he rambled, causing me to giggle. 

"You're cute," I replied, placing a hand on the inner part of his thigh. We stayed there for a moment, our eyes fixed on one another with a blush creeping up on Spencer's cheeks. I could see his Adam's apple bob as he gulped, and I could almost swear the crotch of his pants looked tighter than before. 

"W-we don't have to do anything you know," he said, finally breaking the silence. 

"I know. . . " I said as I leaned in close, "but what if I want to?" 

I took a chance and pressed my lips to his. I let them linger there to gauge his reaction before going any further, not wanting to scare the poor man away. After a few seconds, he didn't pull away and I took the quickened pace of his breathing as a sign to kiss him more. I began slowly at first and his lips followed my lead. To my surprise, he brought his hand up to tangle his fingers in my hair and I moaned into his mouth at the contact. Our kisses quickly became hungry and passionate, and there was no denying the now obvious bulge in his pants. I moved my hand from his thigh and began rubbing him over his pants. This time, he was the one who let out a groan, the sound of which motivated me to force my tongue into his mouth. He tightened his grip on my hair, but I pulled away to tend to his growing erection. He remained seated on the edge of the bed as I dropped to my knees in front of him. 

"Y-you don't have to-" he stuttered with wide eyes. 

"Spencer, it's okay, I want to." 

He didn't protest further and I began to unbuckle his belt. I unzipped his pants and pulled down his underwear just enough to let his cock free. I wrapped my hand around the base and began to jerk him, causing him to hiss at the contact. I teased him a little by licking the tip of his dick before I placed his entire length, or as much of him as I could fit, in my mouth. 

"Oh my god” he groaned, with his eyes screwed shut. I continued to bob my head up and down his cock, his hand finding that familiar place in my hair where he began to tug again. My. pace was purposefully slow, dragging out each suck to earn a moan from Spencer. It was thrilling to be in control of the situation for once. As I sped up my motions, his hands were practically ripping the strands from my head. The wetness pooling between my legs was becoming too much to ignore, so I released my grip on Spencer's cock and used his thighs to push myself back up from my spot on the floor. 

"Spencer. . ." I whined, planting myself onto his lap, "I need you."

I took his hand and guided him to the heat between my legs. I shimmied up my dress to allow him to feel the wetness that now soaked my panties. We both let out a gasp as his fingers became slick at the touch. 

"It's been a while since anyone's made me feel like this," I admitted. I felt safe in his presence, especially since judging by his reactions, he doesn't do this very often either. 

“I-I don’t have a-," 

“Don’t worry, I’m 90% sure we’re both clean and I’m on the pill. Trust me I’m not trying to scam you for child support or anything.” 

I could feel his body relax underneath me after reassuring him. I pressed my lips to his once again, our kiss more sensual and intimate than before. Seizing the rare opportunity to be on top, I had one hand on his shoulder for support and the other on his dick to line him up with my entrance. It was almost dizzying how good it felt as I finally sank down onto his length. 

“Oh god, Spencer.” 

I buried my face into the crook of his neck, completely overwhelmed by the few of him stretching me out. Once I was comfortable, I slowly began rocking my hips. We were a mess of breathy moans and strings of profanities escaped my lips as I began bouncing on his cock. 

“Fuck Spence, you you’re so big.” 

It’s always the skinny, shy guys.

“(Y/N) you feel so good,” he grunted as he bucked his hips up in an attempt to fuck me even harder. After observing his reactions to my every move so far, I knew he wasn’t going to last long. But he was fucking me so good that I couldn’t bring myself to care. 

“Yes baby keep fucking me like that.” 

His hips continued with their relentless pace and our bodies slammed against each other again and again. It wasn’t much longer until his thrusts became sloppy and he finished inside of me with one last resounding groan. We stayed that way for a while, just grateful for the intimate connection. Once we finally caught our breath, I spoke up.

“Well you still have a few hours with me Dr. Reid, what do you propose we do?” I said with a smirk.

“We should probably go to bed, I have to catch my flight back to D.C. in the morning. . . but maybe after we do that again.” 

“I’m all yours Spencer.” 

————————————————————————

Not 100% confident about this one but lmk what y'all think :) thanks fro all the love so far besties

[holybibly]

Today's unholy thoughts, bunnies. We always talk about the sweet, innocent bunny. But what if our bunny was a feisty and experienced girl, hmmm?

So here's the plot: You're a coordinator of sexy fanservice for kpop idols.

"Seonghwa, lick your lips slowly. That's right, boy, use your tongue. 

"Wooyoung, roll up your shirt sleeves so everyone can see the veins on your forearms. You know how Atinys love that. You're doing great; keep going."

"Okay, Mingi, show everyone what you can do with those thighs." 

"Sannie, baby, give us that sweet, dimpled smile. I want to hear them squealing." 

You sat in a huge gaming chair in the waiting room in front of a big monitor, watching the concert. A large pink headset with cat ears flashed and shimmered in a variety of colours each time you plugged into one of the members' earpieces. At this very moment, you were urging Hongjoong to undo a few buttons on his shirt. You wanted Atinys to have a chance to enjoy his big 'heart'. And this was your first year with Ateez as a fan service supervisor. Or, as you like to call yourself, the sexuality coordinator. 

If you had to choose one word to describe what you're doing, you'd say, Dream. Imagine that your job is to let the fans wishes and fantasies come true, and you get paid for that. You're quite famous in the industry. You've worked with popular groups such as BTS, Seventeen, and Stray Kids and participated in solo projects for Taemin, Hwasa, Kai, and other popular idols, and now you've worked with Ateez. 

They were passionate, beautiful, and very talented, but along with that, they had a huge problem with sexuality and proper fan service. Sure, the guys were very fiery and charismatic when they were performing, but that didn't help them if they were not properly coordinated. And that's where you came into the picture. 

It was easy up to a point; the boys would obediently follow your instructions, diligently following all of your recommendations, from the way they dressed to the way they behaved with the fans during the fansites. But something started to change in the way they behaved with you. Their touches became too long and more and more explicit, their words more and more vulgar and provocative, and their looks more and more hungry and wet. Hell, it was getting to the point where they were starting to use your own recommendations and advice against you. And it was annoying as hell. 

"Noona, you want me to show you what that tongue can do? You know I won't disappoint." 

"Baby, if you like my veins so much, you can lick them if you want to."

"Doll, how about I show you how those hips can move when I fuck you senseless?"

"Princess, my smile is going to be so much sweeter after I fuck you."

But the boys should have known better than to play games you were a professional at.

[joelscruff]

forget my charms (dave york x f!reader) 18+

a/n finally watched equalizer 2 and he's been living in my mind rent free! i don't really know what this is tbh, it was kind of a challenge to myself to try and write a drabble because i'm notoriously bad at keeping fics short & sweet. so i'm not sure how i feel about the lack of real story here but we go anyway! enjoy & please be sure to read the warnings! summary: your new boss gives you a memorable first day. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: fingering, lap sitting, power imbalance, infidelity, unprotected p in v (doggy), creampie, finger sucking, dirty talk, praise kink, tie used as a gag word count: 1.5k

You only met him this morning. It had been brief, his office just one stop of many on your guided tour the first day of your new job. Your co-worker had tapped lightly on his door, opened it a crack and told him he should come meet the new hire. Your stomach had turned when you'd heard him sigh deeply on the other side - you were already feeling out of place, more than a little like a fish out of water, and the concept of disrupting the boss on the first day wasn't appealing in the slightest.

But he'd been gracious. He'd come to the door and opened it wider, stood beneath the arch with an appraising little smile on his lips as he looked at you. It had been memorable, the way he'd taken your hand in his large palm and squeezed, peering at you with something attentive in his eyes, almost... intrigued. Welcome, he'd told you, it's lovely to meet you.

And now, only hours later, his fingers are in your pussy.

Pumping slow and deep, rhythmic and filthy as you lounge in his lap with your legs wide and your head resting languidly against the heat of his neck. He's got your skirt pulled up, one big hand spread firm over your trembling belly while he fucks you with his middle and index. The flickering blue of his computer monitor is your only source of light, showering his office in a dim glow.

You whimper and his fingers still, lodged deep inside your heat. He hushes you softly, strokes your tummy with his thumb and leans back slightly in his chair.

"Shh, sweetheart," he murmurs, voice low and husky, "Don't want the night crew to know what we're doing in here, now do we?"

No, you certainly don't. Can't even imagine what the reaction would be were anyone from the office to know you're being fingered by the boss on your first day. You bite down on your lip and lean back into his lap, look down with hooded eyes as he slowly resumes the slow plunge of his fingers. They're so thick, coated in a clear gloss of your release that glows blue in the light. He places his thumb on your clit, applies pressure, and you let out another pathetic whimper.

"Ohh, poor thing," he admonishes gently, "You want something in your mouth to help you stay quiet?" his hand comes up to brush against your face, "Hm? You need something to suck on?"

Your brain feels empty but you nod anyway, eyelashes fluttering as he wastes no time in slipping the middle and index of his left hand past the wetness of your lips. You suck immediately, closing your eyes and feeling them roll behind your lids as he fucks two of your holes at once, just taking, using.

Is this why I'm here, you can't help but think to yourself, did I only get this job so he could play with me like some kind of doll?

You can't quite believe you're even in this situation. You'd stayed late in order to make a good impression, still had some things you needed to figure out at your desk anyway. Everyone else had slowly trickled out of the office, until you'd realized all that remained was you and Mr. York. He'd smiled at you through the open blinds of his office, leaning back in his chair with his legs wide and his arms stretched behind his head. He'd brought one down when your eyes had met, crooked his finger as if to say, Come here for a minute.

You'd gotten up from your desk and entered his office, anxiety building in the pit of your stomach. You'd hoped you weren't about to be reprimanded for something you thought would impress him.

But he didn't reprimand you. He didn't mention the fact that you were staying late, didn't ask about how the job was treating you, if there was anything you needed, no. Instead, he'd looked you up and down again with that assessing, calculative stare and murmured, "Can you come sit in my lap for a little while, sweetheart?"

You suppose you could've said no. Probably should have, actually. That would have been the most logical thing to do - slam the door and quit your job, maybe even sue for harassment. Anyone else probably would have. But you'd taken one look at his crotch, seen the noticeably thick shape that bulged against his thigh, and realized he'd been sitting there watching you for who knows how long. He'd gotten that hard just from looking, assessing.

Fuck it.

"There you go," he breathes softly now, peering at you with dark and imploring eyes as he fucks your mouth and pussy, "That's a good girl, honey, I know," his brow furrows when you whine around his fingers, "I know, baby. You're doing so good."

He rocks you in his lap like you belong there, and it's impossible not to feel the way his clothed cock throbs against your ass. You want to see it so badly, want to touch it, taste it - but he doesn't give you the opportunity. Instead, he circles his thumb against your clit until you're shaking in his arms, hands gripping anything you can reach - the chair, your knee, his wrist. Your orgasm rolls through you and his fingers muffle the sound of your whines, your gasps, until your bones feel like jelly and your heart has slowed. He stills his movements again and lazily pulls all four fingers out of you, watches you breathe deeply and fall back against him with goosebumps rising on your skin.

"Get up now, baby. Bend over the desk for me," he tells you in that low voice, "Show me your pussy."

You pull yourself out of his lap on extremely shaky legs but obey his orders, inching forward a little to position yourself against his desk. You can feel his eyes on you as you reach back and pull yourself apart for him, show him where his fingers have invaded and explored, opened you up and made you drool.

"Juicy little thing," you hear him murmur, and then his belt buckle is jangling and you know what comes next. Legs still trembling, you keep holding yourself open and push yourself further down onto the desk, skirt pulled high and panties still hanging off one of your ankles.

He's filling you up in no time at all, cock plunged deep to the hilt and so much bigger than you'd anticipated. His tip kisses a spot inside of you that you're not sure anyone's ever been able to reach, and against your own volition you moan, low and long, full of pleasure and desperation.

You hear him tsk somewhere above you, "You really can't stay quiet can you?" He says it softly but it's full of condescension, like it's starting to genuinely bother him. Before you can apologize he's reaching down for something, still bottomed out completely inside of you as his arms and hands seem to do something out of sight. A few seconds later his blue polka dotted tie appears in front of your face, and then he's carefully settling the soft material between your lips, pulling back and tying it meticulously behind your head. A makeshift gag.

"Gotta learn to be quiet when I fuck you, okay?" he breathes, raspy and dark as he slowly pulls his cock from your pussy, only to feed it back to you again just as slow, "You don't want us to get in trouble, do you?"

No, sir, you want to whisper, but you can't. All you can do is nod slightly and grip the desk when he starts to fuck you in earnest, thrusting deep and hard before pulling out and doing it all over again. Your thighs quiver and shake against the cool wood, and as you lay there and let him take, you spot something out of the corner of your eye.

A framed picture of a family - his family.

You avert your eyes, turning your head slightly to see where his left hand is gripping your shoulder as he fucks you - you spot the wedding ring immediately. Christ.

But you don't stop it. You don't push him away, you don't leave. Even though you probably should. Even though the logical part of your brain is screaming at you that what's happening really shouldn't be, especially now that you know he's a married man.

You just let him use you. You let him fuck and fill you until he's gripping your hair in his fist and his cock is spasming and pulsing inside of you. You let him release his entire load inside your pussy, bare and messy. And then you let him pull you into his chair, tug the tie from your mouth and situate you back in his lap, still impaled on his cock.

Neither of you speak for a solid minute. He catches his breath while you try not to look at the photograph, to forget its existence entirely.

"The last one quit the first day," you hear him mumble, voice edged with tiredness, "But you won't, will you?" He thrusts shallowly inside of you, holds you against his chest as his cum starts to leak out and dribble down the hefty shape of his balls. "You'll let me do this, huh?"

What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

[mrsbarnesblog]

Little games

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Gamer! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: you really need to calm down, so you get under Bucky's table while he's playing with his friends.

Words count: 1.4k

Warnings: smut, established relationship, college gamer bucky, blow job, come eating, pet names

Author’s note: even though originally I posted it back in August, I might as well publish it now as a part of the kinktober. enjoy and let me know what you think🩷

It was a long fucking day with too many stupid people that just played on your nerves. You were supposed to study at the library for your exam, but instead you were arguing with people who didn’t know how to properly behave in public places and talk to others

Almost an hour later, your blood was still boiling with anger, and you came to your and Bucky’s apartment, carelessly throwing your bag on the floor and kicking off your shoes. You needed to punch someone, scream, take a hot shower, or just have really good sex. And you knew someone who could help you with the last one. 

You walked into Bucky’s playing room; it was a little bit dark with a few neon lights turned on. He was sitting there with headphones, without a shirt, and only in black shorts. The camera was off; he was just playing with his friends, but he was too fucking hot for his own good.

The urge to climb on Bucky right in his playing chair hit you like lightning. You walked closer, wrapping your hands around his neck from the back and sliding them lower down his firm chest.

“Hey, baby doll.” He pushed back the microphone, giving you a quick look but then going back to his stupid game. You deeply inhaled as another wave of annoyance ran through your body because you didn’t get the attention you wanted. 

“Buck… I’m really angry right now, and I need you.” You mumbled against the hot skin of his neck. 

“Gimme like... ten minutes, doll, ‘kay? I have to finish this, or we’re gonna lose. Love you.” Bucky, not looking away from the monitor, placed a kiss on your cheek, and you heard a muffled sound of Steve’s or Sam’s voice in the headphones. “No-no, it’s nothing—on your back!” Bucky suddenly screamed into the microphone as his body moved forward. 

You rolled your eyes, knowing damn well that this is not for “ten minutes”. You didn’t mind him having such a hobby, but at times like this, you just wanted to throw everything in the trash because it was really hard to get Bucky’s attention during the games. It was obvious that if you wanted to cool down, you needed to take everything in your hands. Well, quite literally.

You stepped to the side of Bucky’s chair before dropping to your knees and getting under his table in well-trained motions. It's not like you haven’t done it before. He probably didn’t even notice it because when you quickly put your hand on his crotch, he jumped in surprise and looked at you with his big baby-blue eyes. 

“What are you doing?!” He whispered so his friends couldn’t hear him.

“I am fucking mad, James, and since you don't want to fuck it out of me, I’ll do everything by myself.” You hissed, dragging his shorts down enough to reveal his semi-hard cock. 

Bucky’s eyes rolled back as soon as your soft hand wrapped around him, and he felt that he became hard almost immediately. Usually, he didn’t miss a single chance to get his hands on you. Bucky was quite literally obsessed with you, and he was ready to have sex with you everywhere and every time, but right now he was in the middle of the game with his friends, who might hear everything. 

His body became hot within a second. His hips unconsciously jerked upwards to meet your hand, and he completely forgot what he was doing, looking at your grinning face in between his legs with a slightly open mouth.

“Barnes, what the fuck are you doing? I almost got killed!” It was probably Sam, you thought, but it didn’t stop you from your intentions.

“Do you hear it, Buck?” You innocently whispered, spitting on the hard cock in your hand to help your slow movements. “Continue playing your little game; I’ll just do my business here.” 

“Erm, nothing, it’s just—Alpine dropped something, I don’t know, got distracted...” Bucky  breathed out into the microphone, trying to stay as calm as possible, his eyes quickly moving between you and the screen. He continued to play, still trying to win the game, even though your hand felt too good and his eyes desperately wanted to close. 

Your smirk grew wider before you leaned closer to his cock and traced the vein on the lower side, going from the bottom to the top and swirling your tongue around the head at the end. You hummed at his taste in your mouth, sending vibrations down his body. 

The reaction was exactly how you wanted it to be. Bucky cursed under his mouth; his head fell back, and you could tell by the way his arms and jaw were tensed that he wanted to moan. Yes, he was always vocal, so teasing him that way felt so good. 

“What is wrong with you, man?” Another voice was heard through the headphones, but Bucky didn’t seem to care.

“Oh, fuck!” Your lips wrapped around his cock, sucking on the tip and looking Bucky directly in the eyes. You knew that it drove him crazy. Bucky completely forgot about his game while different people yelled at him and put his left hand on top of your head, guiding you to get lower. “Just like that...” 

“Who are you talking to?”

“Are you having sex?”

“What the fuck are you doing, Barnes?” 

A bunch of different questions mixed in the group voice chat, and it became so annoying that Bucky just muted the call and pulled his headphones off.

You tried to smile, but it was hard to do in your current position. You lowered your head, taking more of Bucky’s hard cock into your mouth. The hand on your head was firm, but it didn’t push you down. When the tip hit the back of your throat, he loudly moaned and gripped your hair, holding you in place.

“Fuck-fuck-fuck!” You didn’t stop, staying like that for a few seconds even though your vision was already blurred with tears. You pulled back, stroking his cock with your hand again. The mixture of your tears, saliva, and his pre-cum made a mess on your face, but it was the least of your concerns. “You’re so pretty, baby, so good for me. What made you so mad, hm?” You saw how his pink tongue licked his lips, and even more dirty thoughts about your boyfriend’s face in between your legs made you want to whimper and rub your thighs together. 

“Some assholes in the library. Fuck, Bucky, just use my mouth, I need it.” The smirk appeared on his lips again. The hand on your head buried itself into your hair, holding them tightly but not too rough to hurt you, and pushed you back on his waiting cock.

You moaned around him when Bucky didn’t hesitate and started to move your head up and down, hitting the back of your throat every single time. You gripped his thighs, digging your nail into the skin, and relaxed so you wouldn’t choke too much. 

With each thrust, you felt that Bucky was getting closer. The movements became slightly out of rhythm, and he didn’t hold his moans anymore. The phone began to ring, and you both knew that it was one of the guys, but neither of you cared enough to pay attention to it.

“Of fuck—baby, ‘m gonna cum.” You didn’t pull away, and in just a few seconds, you felt the thick and hot liquid filling your mouth. Bucky released your hair, unable to move in his chair, while you took his cock in your hands and stroked him a few times until the last drops fell onto your waiting tongue. You swallowed everything, locking eyes with Bucky’s hazy ones, and kissed the tip one last time. “You’re going to kill me. Fuck, you should go to the library more often, sweetheart.” His lips curled in a sneer, and when Bucky wanted to drag you onto his lap, the phone rang again.

He rolled his eyes but still answered.

“What the fuck, Barnes, we lost because of you!” 

“I don’t really care, Willson, because I just got the best head, and now I’m going to have no less good sex with my amazing girlfriend. Don't call me for at least a few hours.”

“Ew, you’re motherf—”

Bucky didn’t listen to whatever Sam wanted to say and ended the call, throwing away his phone. Then he looked back at you, still on the floor, and that dangerously attractive grin appeared on his face again. 

“Now let me pay you back, and then fuck you the way you wanted me to. Gotta help my girlfriend relax, right?” That was Bucky’s last words before he stood up, helped you stand up, and then casually threw you over his shoulder, taking you to your bedroom. 

[fandoms--fluff]

Hey do you think, you could do one of the Mikaelson have a little sister like 2 years old and always what to stay with Nik and Elijah….. also she is so jealous that Camil and she do something to her and Nik tells that she is a mini me

Loathing

Flufftober, October 6th

Mikaelson little sister reader x Elijah Mikaelson x Klaus Mikaelson

Warnings: mention of blood

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're sitting in Elijah's lap, playing with two Chelsea dolls you got some years ago, while he's on the phone with someone. It's quiet except for the sound of your big brother's voice every now and then.

It's all peaceful until Kol comes crashing into the room and sits on the ground in front of you. You tilt your head and hand him one of the dolls. "Play!" You tell him.

Kol nods and plays with you, making a horrible high-pitched voice for the doll which makes you laugh, but Elijah cringes and hopes he stops soon.

It's been ten minutes, "What the bloody hell is that horrible sound?" Klaus walks in, he clearly just got back from wherever he was. Most likely Cami, but he never discloses that information, knowing you've openly shown your dislike for her.

"Our brother's wonderful voice for a doll" Elijah sighs, putting his phone down.

"Hey! My voice is amazing!" Kol exclaims, hearing the insult and sarcasticness in Elijah's answer. "Yeah!" You cross your arms like Kol is.

"See! Y/n knows what she's talking about" Kol says as Klaus picks you up out of Elijah's lap and places you on his hip. You wrap your tiny arms around his neck and relax your head against his shoulder.

"Y/n is also two, I think you need a better defense" Klaus raises an eyebrow. "Technically she's over a thousand like all of us... I'll shut up" Kol says, seeing the looks he's getting from the big brothers.

Kol, having both dolls in his hand, places them down on the coffee table before leaving the room. He plans to go into town and create some havoc that all of his siblings (besides from you) will have a fuss about, but it'll be fun.

Later in the week, there's a party being thrown in the abboiter. It's all vampires and humans for them to feed on. Some to kill and some to compel away.

"Well, this seems to be quite the turn out" Rebekah walks over to you and Klaus, who's carrying you tightly in his arms. "Indeed it is, sister" Klaus smirks.

"Look at you all dressed up" Rebekah coos, running a hand through your hair. "I did all by my'elf" you say excitedly. You're wearing a long sleeve dark purple dress that flows out under the bodice, and matching purple glittery jelly shoes that are put on the wrong feet. But Rebekah didn't want to tell you that and make you feel bad or make you upset at yourself. You also have a couple bead bracelets on your wrists and a heart necklace that Elijah gave you that you never take off. Your daylight ring is on your right pointer finger as well.

"Well good job, beautiful girl" Rebekah kisses your forehead before noticing Cami making her way over, and leaves to go back into the crowd.

"Hey Klaus," Cami smiles. "Camille, You look beautiful" Klaus kisses her. "Mmm, thank you" she says.

You make a disgusted facial expression before facing back the other way and laying your head back on your big brother's chest. You wonder how thus girl seems to be everywhere and why she always comes up to you and your big brother. Why don't they just make her go away like other woman they have before. You don't know what happens to them, but you assume it's fine.

Your siblings make sure you're kept out of all the killing and death during your existence.

As they keep talking, you try to ignore them to the best of your abilities. How much longer, you keep thinking. You try looking for Elijah, so your other big brothers can take you away from them, but no luck. You can't seem to find him anywhere from where you're placed on Klaus' hip.

As soon as you hear her chuckle at something Klaus said, your 2 year old self gets fed up. So, you take off one of your bracelets and throw it as hard as you can at Cami's face.

Now you may be biologically two, but you're still an original vampire, and with that comes a lot of strength. The bracelet made a great slash in her pale cheek, now blood running down her face.

Klaus quickly vamps into his room with Cami and you still in his hold. He sets you down on his bed as he bites into his wrist and offers it to Cami.

As she drinks blood from his wrist, Elijah comes into the room, noticing Klaus vamping out of the courtyard with the both of you.

"What happened?" Elijah asks. You stay quiet, as you sit crisscross apple sauce on the bed, happy that Elijah's here, and even though Cami is now healed, you did something for her to stop talking. You really don't like her.

"Um, I'm fine, though I think it's time for me to go" She sighs, glancing at you before walking out of the room to go back to her apartment.

"What happened was someone decided to get a bit violent" Klaus informs him, facing you. Elijah follows his gaze, landing on your face. You have a slight smile on your face. Yay! you made Cami leave.

"Why did you hurt Camille, y/n?" Elijah walks over and crouches in front of you so you're face to face.

"Bad Cami! Don' li'e her" answer front forwardly. Elijah raises his eyebrows. It's known you're not a fan of the woman, but you've never actually said it out loud up until now.

Klaus chuckles. Elijah turns his line of sight to him, "What do you have to snicker about?"

"Oh, just the thought of y/n is slowly turning into a mini version of me" Klaus smiles and holds a thumbs up at you. You have a big grin on your face. "Niklaus, do not encourage this behavior" Elijah sighs. It's going to be a long life if this is going to keep happening regularly.

A new rule is set in place to make sure that you're never in the same room with Cami with less than one of your siblings. And that one day they can hopefully get you to like Cami and not loathe her.

[miley1442111]

stalker- s.reid

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: spencer saves you.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

warnings: general criminal minds topics, gore and brief descriptions of harm, mutual pining, heavy topics, stalking, reader if from Texas

Spencer sat at his desk, a less than pleasant expression on his face. His glasses had slid down his nose, his usually perfectly gelled hair was messy, and a frown played at his lips. 

“If you stare any longer you’re going to end up with your face stuck like that,” Jj joked as she placed herself in his eyeline. Spencer’s frown deepened and Jj chuckled. “Come on, we have a case.”

Spencer got up, falling into stride with you as you left your desk, hanging up the phone.

“Who were you talking to?” He asked, trying to make small talk. You were new to the team, an old contractor Strauss had hand-picked, you were smart (smarter than him), beautiful, and you were so polite and dutiful that Spencer couldn’t tell if you were actually his friend. You just had an air of coolness that seemed so unreachable for Spencer. You and Derek had worked together in Chicago, you two made sense as friends, Penelope, Emily, Jj, and you all got along well, that made sense. David and you had a shared love of cooking, something SPencer couldn’t even begin to understand. You even made Aaron laugh on the worst of days with some witty comment or sarcastic joke. 

Had Derek just asked you to befriend Spencer for the team's sake? Why would you be interested in him? It made no sense.

You smiled. “My friend from home.”

“Where are you from?” He asked as you two sat in the conference room, Aaron shot you two a look that Spencer clearly didn’t see so you didn’t answer. 

“Tell you later,” you whispered as the briefing began. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Walking into the sweltering heat of Texas from the lovely air-conditioned plane was quite the shock to the body. 

“Fuck it’s hot,” you sighed, pulling off your hoodie to reveal a tight black top beneath. Yes, it was work-appropriate and completely within regulations, but Spencer’s eyes all but popped out of his head like he was in one of those cartoons. 

“You’re drooling,” Derek joked from beside him, pretending to wipe his chin. Spencer pushed his hands away with a shy smile, trying to recover from his embarrassing moment. 

“Ok, Spencer and Derek you two go to the latest crime scene, Y/n, Jj and I will go to the precinct, David and Emily you two will go talk to the deceased family,” Aaron gave out jobs. “Oh and Y/n, I want you with someone at all times, this unSub is going after women with your exact description and our team is a definite hit for him. He’s made contact with the police asking specifically for you and me,” Aaron explained. 

You all dispersed into your separate cars and began working the case. The precinct was full of slimy cops who all promised to ‘protect you’, just not from themselves.

“We want you to wear this,” Jj handed you a bulletproof vest and you rolled your eyes. 

“Seriously? I’m not a porcelain doll, I can handle myself-” You tried to reason with them but the look on Aaron’s face made you stop. He, himself, was wearing one too. “Fine.”

“Good,” Jj smiled. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spencer was worrying himself sick at the crime scene, rambling about all the ways the unSub could get to you and how you shouldn’t even be in the state.

“Spencer!” Derek exclaimed. “Go to your girlfriend, send Jj back after you. You’re no help when you’re like this.”

Spencer didn’t take kindly to the small jest, but he didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed the keys and drove down to the precinct, finding Jj immediately and making up a poorly executed lie about feeling sick. She saw right through him.

“Hope you feel better Spence,” she smirked. “Y/n is with Hotch interviewing a suspect here,” she pointed it out on a map. “See you later.”

After grabbing the keys to Emily and David’s vehicle (they’d just come back from the crime scene) and driving there, anxiety ran through him as he found the door to the farmhouse open. He turned the corner, finding three figures. One was on the floor, shouting in agony, the other was standing, hands above their head. The third was holding a gun.

He turned back, dialling Derek’s number. 

“We need back-up, we’re at 34 Terrace Avenue! Agent down!” He spoke quietly into his phone. 

“We’re on the way kid, don’t go in without back-up,” Derek told him. Spencer didn’t respond. “Spencer?”

“She’s dying,” he reasoned and hung up, walking in. “FBI! Put your weapons down!” 

The unSub, Mitchell O’Hara had been obsessed with you since high school, you’d rejected him in senior year when he’d asked you to the prom since you already had plans with friends. All over the farmhouse, there were photos of you from every stage of your life. Childhood to teenage years, to college years, to your various positions before joining the BAU just a few months ago, including your CIA and covert Ops positions. 

Spencer could see you on the ground, multiple knife wounds in your exposed torso, he’d made you take off your vest, Spencer thought. You groaned in pain on the floor. “Spencer?” You asked hazily. Spencer kept his gun trained on Mitchell. 

“Yeah?” He was stalling, waiting for Aaron to get his own gun or for back-up to arrive. 

“Good,” you were slipping out of consciousness. “I’ve always liked you,” you smiled hazily. Spencer would be elated at those words if the circumstances were different. 

“This is your dream guy Y/n?!” Mitchell shouted. “Him?!” 

“He’s nice,” you managed. “He’s funny.”

“I’m nice! I’m funny!” Mitchell screamed. 

“You’re not Spencer,” you mumbled as everything went dark. 

SWAT suddenly filled the room and Spencer ran to you, trying to stop the bleeding. Thank god Derek had ordered for an ambulance to follow them to the scene.

As Aaron cuffed Mitchell, Spencer went with you in the ambulance. He watched as they attempted to treat your wounds, needing to cut open your shirt. Spencer was shocked to find what looked like 50 different scars. Some from bullets, others knives, others things he couldn’t name. He knew you’d been in the CIA and on a Cover Ops team, he never thought you would’ve been hurt this many times and still have the strength to go on. The ambulance pulled up to the hospital and you were brought straight into emergency surgery. 

He waited for hours there just pacing, nervously biting at his nails, or attempting to sit there as no one told him a thing. He lied, saying he was your boyfriend. Technically it wasn’t a lie, you liked him, he liked you. He just hadn’t asked. 

“Dr. Reid?” A nurse called out. He stood immediately. “She’s stable and should be waking up soon, you can see her.”

Spencer nodded a ‘thanks’ her way and entered your hospital room. 

You were alive. You were here. You were awake. 

You smiled at him. “Hey.”

Your voice was hoarse, tired from the shouting you’d done. 

“Hi.”

“Thanks for saving me Spencer,” you smiled. “And about what I said… if you don’t feel the same I’d totally get it. I just thought I was… y’know dying so…”

Spencer shook his head and smiled. “I like you a lot too.”

You grinned. “Good.”

He leaned down, a sudden surge of confidence ran through him and he kissed you softly.

“I’m from Texas by the way,” you smiled against his lips. 

“I actually guessed that, yeah,” he joked, making you laugh. God, he loved your laugh. 

He loved you. He just wouldn’t tell you that yet.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

[nmakii]

DOMESTIC LIFE WAS NEVER QUITE MY STYLE…

— married life with alastor back in 1925, louisiana

— is this ooc :(? ive been in a ooc rut ever since school ended i miss my pookies n like i cried so much that day 😔 BTW THIS IS THE FIC I HSED THE ALASTOR AI TEXTS :>

lord above! you have to be some kind of gem to secure a man such as alastor. to be that woman, it’s almost certain that you’re someone who understands alastor in ways no one else has.

he doesn’t tend to express his affections physically, but more than makes up for it through his sweet nothings and lavish gifts

he’s most definitely the type to spoil his wife, but only if you ask him for it yourself. he doesn’t want to buy things you have no use for

has a trust fund in his will set for you if, god forbid, he died before you. he doesnt want his love to worry about money, just let him take care of it.

unlike many households at the time, alastor would help with the chores. despite his full-time job, he’d sorta understand that taking care of a house is a full-time job in itself since he’d spent his childhood watching how hard his mother works so, he agrees to always split chores with you.

because of his work, and his popularity, his boss asks that he comes in early to host the morning segment of the show. because of this, it’s not often that you two share a morning together. but, he still remembers to kiss your pretty head good morning, occasionally adding a request for dinner

his mother is MORE than happy to welcome you into the family. she’s just glad that her son found someone that makes him happy.

honestly on the fence about kids. on one hand, it’d make his mother really happy, as well as how it’s expected at the time period. but, he isn’t too interested in physically showing his desires. and, he is quite busy as well with his job and the whole murdering thing. it’s only if you ask him explicitly that he’d decide to look into it, maybe adoption? :>

quite good at putting your insecurities at ease. sweet nothings for days on end can come out of his mouth and he’s still not done.

as you sob into alastor’s chest, his arms wrap around your body warmly as he plays with your hair. "whenever you’re ready to talk, my love.” he held you close, wiping your tears until you were ready to talk.

alastor listened silently as you told him of all your doubts; that you weren’t a good wife, the whispers of every woman in town, everything. “my love, i’ll love you no matter what. it’s the woman inside that i am in love with.” he says as he brushes the hair out of your face, gazing down at you lovingly. “i won’t lie, there are times when you are… feisty. but, it’s your passion and intelligence that always bring me back to you.”

your lips quiver as you try to quell your tears. “can… can you swear that? that you’ll love me no matter what..?” his gaze became gentle as he saw the genuine doubt in your expression. “you have my word, dear. no matter what happens, i’d never stop loving you. even if we fought everyday, i would still be a fool for you. because, well… i suppose the heart wants what the heart wants. and, it is you that my heart yearns for, love.” alastor assured you, his eyes falling as he spoke.

as the sweet nothings fell from his lips, your tears ceased, finding the warmth in his touch. “thank you, dear… you always know how to make me feel better, i love you so much…” you sighed, curling into his touch. “mmh, i love you as well, my pretty girl.” he grinned, kissing your forehead.

as stated above, alastor is not particularly attracted to your looks, but moreso your intelligence and your ability to see right through that charming facade of his. funnily enough, it started a healthy relationship for one of the most deranged men out there.

he’d also be quite attracted to you if you joined him one night. nothing’s more attractive than your beautiful wife in a pretty dress he bought for you all bloodied up with a knife in your hand.

he loves to show you off to the newspapers as his pretty doll, not only because you’re quite the eye candy, but to also make you confident in yourself

he’d still get jealous whenever he’d catch someone staring too long though. ironically enough, he thinks it’s adorable when you get jealous and pout your face. he’s your’s after all, body and soul! why fuss over something that’s not gonna happen?

arguments are quite rare since alastor doesn’t tend to do things that are argument worthy. one of the few reasons you tend to argue is when alastor heads to the club after work and comes home drunk and much later than he intended to. and, after all that, he still apologizes for coming home late, probably tries to come home early so he can cook dinner the next day as an apology :>

[holylulusworld]

Get off my lawn

Title: Get off my lawn

Written for @buckybarnesbingo (Round 6)

Card: B004

Square Filled: Y5: Kink: A/B/O Society

Ship/Main Pairing: Alpha (Teacher) Bucky Barnes x Omega (Teacher) Reader

Rating: Mature

Major Tags/Triggers/Warnings: a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, misogynism, arguments, enemies to lovers, idiots in love, panty theft, implied smut

Summary: You hate your neighbor and co-worker.

Word Count: 1632

@buckybarnesevents „Hot Bucky Summer 2024”: “We’re…enemies to lovers.”

@buckybingo (expired): Square 3: High School Teachers AU

@AllCapsBingo (expired):  G3: AU: Teacher

@warmandfluffybingocards: Square 9: Enemies to lovers

@the-slumberparty (expired): Square 7: Lingerie

@buckbarnesbingo Round 5 (expired): B1: Knitting

You need time away from … everything and everyone.

Sometimes it’s hard to love your job. On days like this, when the parents of your students bug you because they believe you are more than a teacher you want to quit. According to some parents, you must be a therapist, a nanny, and a private tutor at the same time.

Impatiently clicking your pen, you listen to the last father’s rant. He’s angry because his son won’t do better than a D for months. It’s not your fault his son plays on his phone all the time.

“I’ll stop you right there,” you raise your hand, not letting the man argue with you. “It’s past my work time, still, I agreed to talk to you.” You rub your pounding temples. “Let’s be honest. Your son could do much better if only he put a little more effort into schoolwork. He just doesn’t want to.”

“That’s not true!” And he tries to argue again. Alphas are all the same. They try to force you into submission by raising their voice. “He’s a smart boy, but you don’t give him a chance.”

“Sir, I must ask you to lower your voice. I’m not your omega, and I resent your tone,” you get up from your seat. “Your son plays on his phone all the time. When I ask him to listen to the lecture, he gets cheeky. He doesn’t respect his teachers or fellow students. He’s disturbing the lectures too.”

“Mr. Barnes said my son is a good student,” the alpha snarls and puffs his chest. You roll your eyes and decide to end the conversation.

“Mr. Barnes is a gym teacher. Of course, he believes your son is a good student. Jack only ever shows interest if he can push others around and use his physical strength to intimidate others.”

“Are you implying that my son is a bully?”

“No,” you smile cooly. “I’m not implying that your son is a bully. I’m telling you that he is a bully. If you want Mr. Barnes to teach your son English too, you can ask him to be his tutor from now on.”

You grab your bag and jacket to leave the room, ignoring that the alpha snarls in your direction. You have handled men like him before and won’t whine only because he believes you must cower in front of him.

Today is not your day. First, you had to endure your student’s father, and now you run into the only co-worker you hate.

“Ah, Ms. Y/L/N,” James Buchanan Barnes, the cockiest motherfucker you ever met, purrs. “I heard you had trouble with Jake’s dad.” He grins, knowing he made things even harder for you. “Maybe you should leave the young alphas to me.”

“Maybe you should not stick your nose into other people’s business, Mr. Barnes,” you quip before marching away. He won’t get under your skin. Not today out of all days. It’s the last day of school. Summer lies ahead and you won’t allow him to ruin your mood.

“I wonder if you bought these for someone special,” Bucky laughs as he steps toward your fence to look at your rotary airer – or rather at your lingerie hanging on the airer. “I thought you hate any alpha.”

“Get. Off. My. Lawn,” you twirl around to glare at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you? What kind of man sneaks around an unbonded omega’s house to stare at her lingerie?”

He snorts when you put your hands on your hips, and snarl in his direction. “I’m not on your lawn, doll. This is a public street. I can stand here as long as I want to.”

“If you don’t get out of my sight, you’ll regret it,” you point your index finger at Bucky. “I’m warning you.”

“You’re cute when you believe you can scare me,” he laughs. “What are you going to do, huh? Threaten to throw your lingerie at me.” Bucky throws his head back, laughing. “No, I know. You are going to stab me to death with your knitting needles.”

You growl loudly. “How do you know I knit?”

“Women like you,” he steps closer to your fence and puts his hands on it, “lonely omegas no one wants to mate spend their time with knitting and telling themselves they love being single.”

“You—” you inhale sharply before turning around. Bucky is still laughing when you grab the water hose. You suddenly turn back around to spray Bucky right in the chest, soaking his shirt. He ungracefully backpaddles.

“You…” He growls when you laugh at his predicament. “Do you think this is funny?” Bucky takes off his shirt and flings it at you. “You’ll wash it and give it back to me.”

For a moment, you look at his chest, drinking his defined abs in. He is perfectly toned, and you hate him even more when your eyes drop to his thick thighs.

“In your dreams,” you rip your eyes off his body to grab the shirt and toss it in his face. “Get away from my house, you creep. What kind of man stares at a lady’s lingerie?”

“Lady,” he snorts. “You’re a fury, not a lady!”

“Bastard!”

“Bitch!”

Bucky watches you storm off, an amused smirk on his lips. He loves to toy with you and rile you up. Your scent gets stronger, and you almost drown him in it. The alpha inhales deeply, purring low in his throat as his lower half yearns for something more than your scent…

“That bastard,” you pace back and forth in your living room, eyes drifting toward the wool and your knitting needles on the coffee table. “I should stab him with my needles. One day, I’ll do it.”

Your cat meows loudly. The stray you saved a year ago wants more food, not an angry omega disturbing its sleep. “What? I took you in. You should be on my side!”

You’re about to fight with your cat when a knock interrupts you. “Christ, can I not get a moment of silence?” You walk toward the door, taking deep breaths to calm down. You don’t want to yell at someone only because Bucky Barnes riled you up once again.

“Coming,” you coo while opening the door. You put on a fake smile, but it falls when no other than the thorn in your side stands in front of you. He waves his shirt and growls your name. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you; you’ll wash my shirt!”

“I told you to get off my lawn, bastard!”

You snatch the shirt out of his hands, drop it to the ground, and stomp on it before kicking it away. “If you come here again, I’ll stab you with my knitting needle.”

“I knew you are knit—” he can’t end his line because you slam the door in his face.

“Yeah, fuck you too!”

“Where are my…” You stare at the empty rotary airer. All your lingerie and even your favorite nightie is gone. There is nothing left but Bucky’s dirty shirt. “That motherfucker stole my panties!”

He made it. Today is the day you’ll end James Buchanan Barnes's life. You run inside to get your knitting needles, a grim expression on your face. He brought it upon himself with his cocky attitude and stupid smile. How dare he drown you in his scent anytime you are near him.

The alpha will die and it’s all his fault…

“Open the fucking door!” You harshly knock at his door. “I know you are at home, you fucker! Stealing is a crime. Trespassing is a crime too!”

Bucky slowly opens his door. Today the cocky fucker has his hair pulled back. The white undershirt he’s wearing is a little too tight. He smirks at you and crosses his muscular arms over his chest. “What can I do for you doll?”

 “You know exactly what I want, Barnes,” you throw his dirty shirt in his face. “Give me back my lingerie and nightie, you fucking creep!”

“I don’t know what you are talking about?” He dips his head to let his eyes wander up and down your body. “If anyone stole clothes, it’s you. How did you get my shirt, doll?”

“You won’t get away with stealing from me,” you take a step closer to Bucky to push against his shoulders. He stumbles backward and hits the door with his back. Bucky yelps when you press one knitting needled against his crotch, poking his balls.

“Doll, what are you up to?” He watches you place your other hand on his chest, moving it up and down. “Y/N?”

“You’ll never underestimate me again,” moving your hand to his throat you smirk. “I want my lingerie back. If you don’t give them back, I’ll take something from you.”

“I can’t give them back,” he breathes heavily feeling the needly poke his sack. “I’d love to give them back…though…but…I can’t…I swear.”

“Why not? Did you give them to one of your one-nighters?” You snarl his name. “Where are my panties?”

“In my nightstand,” Bucky licks his lips. “They are dirty…though.”

You gape at him. “You fucker!”

“Yeah, I fucked them good and hard,” he grins when you drop the needle to cup his crotch. “I imagined it’s your needy hole I stuff with my thick cock.”

“You’re a pervert and a creep,” you fist his undershirt with both hands. “If you don’t want me to stab you with my knitting needle, you’ll wash my lingerie…”

“Hmm…” he purrs when you step away to move your hands under your summer dress. You shimmy out of your panties and ball them up. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, you will wash these with your dirty mouth…”

Tags in reblog.

[girlrotterr]

HEADLINES☆

Bodyguard!ellie x Model!reader  Summary: After gaining more popularity in the public eye, your manager decided to hire you a bodyguard. Usually, you wouldn’t care, but this particular bodyguard, Ellie, is a cold and stubborn one, always controlling your decisions. Tonight, a big party is being thrown, but knowing Ellie, she won’t let you go. You can persuade her...right? a/n: hello angelss!! I wanted to try something different for this fic! lmk what you angels think! Had sm fun with this one <3 (especially with the dynamic!)

You sighed, frustrated with Ellie's determination. It wasn't the first time you had tried to convince her to let you attend social events. Leaning against the wall, you crossed your arms.

"Ellie, come onn! I get it, you're here to protect me, but I can take care of myself too. This party is crucial for my image, and you know how important that is in my line of work," you argued, attempting to convince her. 

She narrowed her eyes, "Your image won't matter if something happens to you. You can't trust those people, and I won't let you jeopardize your safety just for the sake of appearances."

You tried a different tactic, softening your tone. "Look, I appreciate what you do, I really do!. But I need to live a little, experience things.! Besides, it's not healthy to be cooped up all the time. Let me go, Ellie, just this once!” 

Her expression remained serious, and she shook her head. "No, it's not happening. I've seen how these events turn out, and I won't let you become another headline. My responsibility is to protect you, even from yourself."

You threw your hands up in frustration. "I'm not a child. I can make my own decisions, even if they turn out mistakes."

She stayed silent for a moment, her gaze intense. "I can't let you take unnecessary risks. It's my job to keep you safe, and I won't compromise on that."

"But I got all dolled up!" you say, gesturing towards your outfit.

A smirk crept onto Ellie's face as she looked you up and down. She admired the effort you had put into your appearance, her gaze lingering for a moment. 

You had come to know Ellie's strict professionalism quite well, but there was another side to her that occasionally surfaced — a genuine appreciation for your presence. You had caught her stealing glances, subtly tracing the lines of your figure. She silently acknowledged the aura you radiated. 

When she got lost in those moments, captivated by you, it didn't escape your notice. You had become a distraction from her duties, something that seemed to drive her fucking crazy. The protector allowing herself a vulnerable moment, drawn in by you.

"Hmm... Well, I might allow it," she finally accepted, a hint of amusement in her voice, "Only if you behave well."

You rolled your eyes. "Fine, fine. I'll be on my best behavior, I promise!”

Ellie maintained her composed demeanor, though a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Don't make me regret this. I'll be watching, and if anything seems off, you're out of there."

You nodded, pleased with the compromise. "Deal!"

Heading towards the door, you couldn't help but feel a sense of victory. Stepping out of the house, ellie followed closely, her eyes scanning the surroundings with a hint of nervousness, ensuring your safety remained her top priority.

fuck. The sight of Ellie in her sleek suit sent shivers down your spine, it always gave her a menacing look. 

"Hey~, with that black suit, you look like my date," you said cheekily, a playful glint in your eyes as you teased her. You loved getting under her skin. 

Ellie looked at you suspiciously, a faint blush tinting her cheeks "I'm not your date," she stated firmly, attempting to brush off your comment.

"Aww man," you exclaimed, unable to contain your giggles at her seriousness.

She rolled her eyes, hiding a hint of happiness behind her sternness. "Keep acting like that, and I'll forget the deal," she replied, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. It was her turn to be the tease now.

"Harsh!" you exclaimed, grinning as you playfully moved closer to her. 

"You're such a brat, you know that?" she said with a playful smirk.

You gasped, exaggerating your shock. "Am not!"

"Then stop acting like one," she shot back, her eyes scanning your body.

You grinned, playfully striding towards your baby pink beetle. "Not until you drop the bossy act."

Opening the car door, you hopped inside. The seats plush and adorned with soft pink cushions, the air filled with the sweet scent of strawberries.

You started the car and began driving, the engine humming as the vehicle glided through the streets. Ellie stared out the window, lost in her thoughts and taking in the passing neighborhood. The quietness of the car started feeling a bit awkward.

Sensing the silence, you reached into your purse, rummaging around until you found your favorite CD. With a grin, you popped it into the player, and your favorite song immediately filled the car with noise.

"AHH!! LOVEE THIS SONG!!" you shrieked and laughed with excitement. The energy of the music lifted the mood, filling the car with a sense of liveliness. Ellie couldn't help but crack a small smile, finding your genuine joy contagious. She smirked as she listened to the music, not exactly to her taste but enjoying the rhythm.

You started dancing in your seat, unable to contain your excitement. With a grin, you rolled down the windows, letting the wind whip through the car as you drove a little faster, caught up in the euphoria of the moment.

Ellie chuckled at your antics, but her enjoyment turned to mild concern when she noticed the speed increasing.

"C-calm down. There's no need to drive so fast," she warned, her tone laced with caution.

"Ughh!! You’re a buzzkill!" you exclaimed, sticking your head out of the window, the music blaring even louder now, practically vibrating the entire car. 

"Hey! Enough seriously! " Ellie started to protest, but her words were lost in the rush of the wind and the pulsating beat of the music. 

"Ellie! Take the fucking wheel!" you suddenly exclaimed, thrusting your hands out of the window along with your head, bending your body over the window ledge. You were sexy and unstoppable, the wind blowing perfectly against your face and hair.

Ellie, although taken aback, tried not to panic. In a swift move, she grabbed the wheel, taking control of the car and attempting to steer it. The rush of wind and the blaring music was chaotic yet exhilarating. This wasn't an unusual occurrence for her; she was used to your careless and rebellious behavior. However, it always managed to take her by surprise.

You stopped and took the wheel once again, closing the windows and slowing down as Ellie breathed a sigh of relief. "We're here!" you giggled excitedly, undoing your seatbelt and hopping out of the car, with Ellie following behind you.

Approaching the grand mansion, you marveled at its luxury. It stood tall and stunning, illuminated by soft lights against the night sky. Beautiful gardens surrounded it completely.

You walked towards the entrance, excitement building with each step. As you opened the door, you were suddenly greeted by a woman.

"You made it!" she exclaimed.

“I wouldn't have missed it for the world!" you responded.

The lady, still smiling, welcomed you inside with a gesture. “Come on in!” she exclaimed, holding the door open.

As you entered, you turned and waved for Ellie to come along.

Ellie followed behind you. As she looked around, her amazement grew. The party inside was anything but average. The upbeat music filled the air as people danced energetically, drinks flowed freely, and couples were intimately occupied on couches and stairs. She even noticed some people snorting drugs in the bathroom.

Turning towards Ellie, you leaned in and whispered, "Psst, a secret! I didn't even know that lady..."

Ellie laughed softly at your secret. "Really? She seemed to know you, though," she replied.

“I mean, my face is practically everywhere!”

"It must be weird, though. Having people recognizing you and praising you for your beauty. It's quite a big responsibility, isn't it?" she asked, genuinely curious. "Do you sometimes feel overwhelmed by the attention?"

“No, I get the fascination,” you replied, walking over to grab a soda.

"It's pretty funny how unfazed you are," she replied with a smile. “I have to admit, it’s fucking admirable.”

“Aw, don't flirt with me so obviously now,” you teased, grinning as you took a sip of your soda.

Ellie felt her cheeks flush at your remark, catching her off guard. "It's fucking hard not to," she replied, unable to take her gaze away from yours.

“You listen well; you dropped the bossy act,” you teased, playfully bumping your shoulder into hers.

“Fucking try me,” Ellie scoffed, leaning into your ear.

"I'm too busy dancing!" you said, playfully walking away from Ellie.

Approaching a woman who had clearly been checking you out since you entered. With a confident smile, you asked her if she wanted to dance, and she eagerly agreed. Taking her hand, you led her to the dance floor.

As Ellie observed, jealousy played across her face. She had never seen you dance, and she had to admit, she fucking loved it. It was hard for her not to envy the woman dancing with you. Despite being your bodyguard, she found herself unable to tear her eyes away. She wanted to fucking savor it.

The woman continued to get closer to you, too close for Ellie. She felt her anger rise, clenching her fists tightly, nails digging into her palms. She turned her head from side to side, attempting to release the tension building up. Suddenly you pulled the woman in for a kiss, a smile spreading across your face.

Ellie's jaw tightened.

You handed the woman a piece of paper containing your phone number before walking away, heading towards Ellie with exhaustion in your steps.

“Ugh, I need water!!” you exclaimed, your legs giving out from dancing.

"You seem pretty tired," she remarked, a hint of jealousy in her voice.

“Hm? Oh! Yeah, she's been eyeing me the moment I walked in!” you exclaimed, taking a seat on a nearby stool. “I thought I'd give her a chance, and she did not disappoint.”

"Do you just give anyone a chance when they look at you with desire?" she questioned sternly, her tone cold. The jealousy was consuming her, and she was struggling to keep her emotions in check.

“Why does it matter to you?” you asked, genuinely surprised that she cared.

Ellie had to admit, you were right. She was just your bodyguard; it shouldn’t matter to her.

Suddenly, the woman approached you, handing you a beer. "Sorry for exhausting you, princess," she said, only fueling Ellie's jealousy further.

"Princess...? What the fuck," Ellie replied, her anger building up.

The woman looked at Ellie with confusion and scoffed. "And you are..?"

Ellie felt her stomach sink as she met the woman's gaze with a cold, sharp glare. "I'm her bodyguard," she stated firmly, her tone conveying her authority. "It's my job to make sure nothing happens to her. And from what I've seen, you're getting way too close for my liking."

The woman chuckled arrogantly. "Yeah? Well, I don't give a fuck," she replied, smirking as she put her arm around your shoulder.

Ellie had reached her limit. The audacity of this fucking woman,

"Don’t fucking touch my client," Ellie threatened coldly, maintaining a sharp look.

Unfazed, the woman put her beer down aggressively. "What're you going to do?!?" she challenged, now getting closer to Ellie. She was testing limits and crossing lines, pushing Ellie to the edge.

"Hey! Stop it!" you exclaimed, stepping in between Ellie and the woman. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! Causing unnecessary shit."

Bothered, the woman picked up her beer and threw it at you, the liquid soaking your hair and dress. "Fucking bitch.." she muttered angrily, beginning to walk away. 

You stood there, now with beer dripping from you, frustration and disbelief on your face. 

You let out a scoff, your frustration boiling as you lunged at the woman. Your anger fueled your movements as you tackled her to the ground, pinning her beneath you. With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you unleashed a blow of punches, each blow landing with force on her face. The sound of your fists meeting her bloodied nose, the woman grunting in pain. She had no fucking chance. 

Ellie watched the scene before her, her eyes widening as she witnessed. 

The people at the party even began crowding around, watching and recording with excitement. The situation had spiraled out of control. With the woman's face bloodied and bruised, her right eye swollen shut, you smudged your face with hers, rubbing the beer she had thrown at you onto her face.

“cunt.”  You muttered, finally standing up, your knuckles completely stained in red.

You began walking towards the door, the crowd following right behind you. Ellie, still standing near the door, was fucking stunned. Completely speechless. 

You opened the door and headed towards your car. Fastening your seatbelt, you yelled out the window, "ELLIE, GET THE FUCK IN HERE!!" 

Ellie jolted as she quickly made her way to the car. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment from the crowd's whispers and stares. You swerved, aligning the passenger seat with the main entrance. Lowering the window, it allowed ellie to jump into the seat through it. However, not giving her time to fully get in, you accelerated quickly with half of her body still hanging outside. 

“wait, wait, wait!!” Ellie exclaimed loudly, her eyes shut tight as she desperately gripped onto the seat. “You’re fucking crazy!!” she yelled. 

You were definitely making the headlines again. 

[eccentricallygothic]

| Big Brother |

Description: Fermin does not like to share you with anyone. 

Pairing: Dark Step-Brother!Fermin | Naive Step-Sister!You.

Disclaimer: This story is purely a work of fiction and does not represent Fermin Lopez in any way. It also contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact. 

Warning(s): Dubcon/Noncon, Fermin is mean, dark!Fermin, infantilization, unprotected p-in-v, spanking, degradation, dacryphilia, dumbification, possessive!Fermin, obsessive behaviors, ddlg vibes. 

Note: The Pedri one is gonna be much bigger as it has my favorite trope and Spanish man so it'll have to wait, unfortunately. Until then… 

.

Fermin does not like to share you with anyone. He doesn't know when exactly his contempt for his step-father's daughter turned into this but he doesn't care. Nor does he try to rationalize it anymore.

You are his, as he is yours.

It's quite simple, really. You're family and no one can or should come between you. No one will ever be as sincere with you like your family– he is and being the naive little thing you are, you should know that big brother always knows best. 

It doesn't matter even if he's younger than you. 

Fermin says it's all about what's in the head.

And yours is as empty as a wooden doll's.

So you say nothing and simply whimper as your head lowers when he roughly drags you inside the house by your arm before taking you to his room. You want to speak up; tell him about the forgotten kid in the park that you're supposed to be babysitting.

But you know better than to speak when big brother is angry. 

What he says goes. 

And so you're bent over his study table within the next new minutes with your skirt pushed all the way up to your waist while you sob uncontrollably and take your punishment.

“I- I am sorry, big brother– ah!” Your back twists upwards when yet another ruthless rap resounds against your tender skin that is flush with a deep shade of red. “I- I swear! I was only helping Lucia swing– ouch!” A rough hiccup rips out of your throat when your brother refuses to show you any mercy. “Please!” Fermin is not in the mood to listen. 

But he can never be wrong. Because he is big brother. So the fault is definitely yours. How many times has he told you not to speak to other boys? But you are one disobedient little sister! Big brother only wants what is best for you and to protect you because all boys except for him are pigs who only want to take advantage of you! 

“I knew this job was a bad idea” your form stills and your blood runs cold. Slap. But no scream comes out of you this time. Oh no. “You're too little to be out by yourself let alone handle another kid” his voice is low; the deadly calm of his tone causing your knees to tremble. “I fucking knew it–”

“NO! NO BIG BROTHER, PLEASE!” You are absolutely powerless against him so if he pulls the plug on your job, no one will be able to let you keep it. “I swear! That boy came to me first! I swear! I have no idea who he was!”

Fermin grimaces as he clenches his already tense jaw so hard that it ticks. He lands another harsh spank on your quivering ass. Of course. You didn't even notice how that boy has been circling you and Lucia in the park for a few days now, having finally mustered the courage to speak to you only today as you are known as Fermin's sister. 

“I am s- sorry…” You draw your words out as you feel him snatch the tatter of your panties away. “I promise I'll b- be better n- now, big bro-ther, p- please just- OH!” Your eyes squeeze shut as you break into another fit of sobs from the powerful slap that lands on your bare folds now. 

“Tsk, how many times do I have to teach you the difference between punishment time and play time, huh little sis?” A loud squelching noise sounds in the air as he spreads your drenched pussy lips. “Shamelessly making a mess all over big brother's desk during her punishment like a silly little slut, tsk” the blood under your already flush cheeks bubbles as you whimper. 

“S- Sorry, big brother…” Your toes curl as he goes about feeling up your mound. “C- Can't help…” Your teeth pull your bottom lip between them when one of his fingers start to toy with the sensitive band of your entrance. “P- Please… help…” Fermin has taught you to come to him whenever you feel funny between your legs because you have a serious condition that must be kept a secret if you don't want the scary hospital people to take you away from your home and big brother forever. Thankfully, he knows how to fix it so all you have to do is to go to him whenever it happens. Your big brother is the best, really. Because he doesn't help you like meanie doctors with bitter medicine but instead plays with you in an admittingly odd but fun way that is stranger than anything you've ever done but it is also what you can only describe as very nice at the same time. 

“Tsk, are we in a position to make demands?” You wince at the way he scolds you before landing one last powerful smack to your pussy, making you cry aloud as you crash into the desk you are bent over from the force. “Disobeying big brother and putting yourself at risk and then whining about help, I spoil you too much, don't I little sis?” You bite your lip as you hear his fly go undone. 

Oh God. 

He takes you unprepared sometimes when he is angry or unhappy. 

Today is going to be one of those days. 

If only his junior -as he likes to refer to it- wasn't so big, you wouldn't be so scared. 

Because his girth has nearly ripped you many a time. 

“Whining for weeks because all your little friends were getting babysitting jobs and so you wanted to get one too…” Your fingers tightly curl around the edges of the desk as you feel his thick tip press against your entrance, his warm big hands clasping around your sides firmly. “Misbehaving with big brother and throwing all kinds of tantrums…” Well, yeah. You did give him the cold shoulder until he agreed. “Assuring him you would be fine only to do this–” his last words nearly melt into a hiss as he jerks his hips against yours with a powerful thrust and in comes plunging his hard shaft. 

“BIG BROTHER!” A most vile moan escapes you as the upper half of your body goes limp over the smooth surface of the desk. 

“Just imagine if I wasn't out front fixing my bike?” He is beginning to get breathless, huge cock moving between your channel of flesh and out of you slow yet rough. “And if I didn't save you in time?” A spank delivers onto your bruised ass but it is much lighter than all the other ones you have been subject to this evening. “Do you have any idea how badly that could have ended for you?” But his reproaches are no more than background buzz for you now. Your eyelids have gotten droopy and your senses are melting. 

Big brother's dick is inside you and his thick veins angrily pulsate against your bare, sensitive flesh in the best way and that's all that matters.

“Hnnng” your lips feel dry as you bite down on them, your back arching and pussy squelching out a whine when he pulls out nearly all the way. “Big brother– AH!” His hands restrain you from moving along the force of his cock this time around so all of him can be buried deep within your cunt instead of your body slamming into the desk.

“Or maybe… big brother isn't enough for you now, huh? Is that it?” Your eyebrows furrow at his words as your eyes struggle to open because his movement is beginning to get frequent… and not in a nice way. “Is that why you're going around town like a stupid little slut with her silly little pussy in need of fixing?” Your body can't help but rock a little despite his hold on your hips as the stiff skin of his cock grazes against your sensitive flesh faster and faster with each thrust. When you continue to mewl and clench around him instead of answering, Fermin clicks his tongue before he lands a slap on one of your ass cheeks, his fingers coiling around your hair. “Well?!”

“N- No!” Your features twist in discomfort when you feel the band of your entrance forcefully expand around the base of his cock in order to accommodate his balls since your pussy is so wet and your walls so greedy that they want to devour all the dick he has to offer. “B- Big brother w- will always be e-nough for me!” Your neck cranes backwards as you feel him tug at your strands while his bottom half claps against yours loudly. 

“That's fucking right” your mouth falls open when his tip works its way up your cunt and finds the spot where your nerves are sensitive today, the harsh thrust causing your head to spin. “And you better remember that the next time a silly little boy approaches you” neon stars began to appear in your vision as he moves you down and onto the table before his hands roughly move to your thighs, his hips violently snapping against yours all the while. The sound of the other side of the desk colliding with the wall next to it fills your hot ears as you feel Fermin spread your legs as far as they can go, his ballsack sinking into your sore yet much gratified entrance with each thrust now. 

“Tell me you're mine” you feel him bend one of your legs before placing your knee on the table to access you even deeper. “Tell me you're all mine!”

“BIG BROTHER!” You are panting desperately like a bitch in heat, your tight insides on the verge of your first of many orgasms of the day. “I– AH! I AM– OH!” His fingers slip between your cunt and the smooth wooden top of the desk. 

Fermin's back drapes over your back as you feel his lips hover over your ear, his coarse digits gliding across your slippery folds. “Say it and big brother will give you the cummies” he kisses the tear stains on your flushed face. “You like the cummies right?” He speaks to you like one does a child while obliterating you like you are his very own personal whore (you are). You vehemently nod, grunting and whining as you focus on holding yourself back because cumming without big brother's permission is prohibited and you are in enough trouble already. 

“I AM Y- YOURS, BIG BROTHER! A- ALL YOURS! O- ONLY YOURS!” You scream out in agony, feeling yourself overcrowded, overstuffed and overstimulated all at once. “P- PLEA–” 

Fermin loves your sobs of pure wanton. “Cum for big brother” as if a switch goes off, your orgasm barrages through you like a dam coming undone. Temporary vertigo fills your ears as your pussy tightly clenches around his hard shaft that is still pounding your seeping cunt just as hard. Your vision falters and your body gives up as the upper half of your body that you were barely keeping upright drops against the table with a soft thump. 

Your body spasms as your toes curl from the overstimulation but you know better than to complain. Big brother does so much for your protection and pleasure, it is only fair that you returned the favor by being nice to him back. Yes, he is difficult to satiate and one cummie is never enough for him. 

But taking care of each other is what family is all about.

… Right? 

.

I appreciate feedback >.< Also I can't believe I neglected exam prep for this lmfaooo <3 

[theprettynosferatu]

Oh, you miss me? My apologies. The day job is being quite hard and leaving little time to indulge...

But you? Ah, you're a different case entirely. You see, you don't really have a choice, do you?

I'm sure somewhere in that perverted mess you call a brain you have an inlking of an idea that you are in control. You can stop any time. It's just harmless fun. You know what? Lie to yourself all you want. I know better, and deep down so do you.

Let's not bullshit one another, you and I. You're far too gone now. There's no way back for you. You've edged and recited mantras and trained your brain to love worse and worse stuff, more degrading, stronger... darker.

In fact, what part of yourself haven't you perverted yet? Your gender? Your sexuality? Your free will? You have rubbed thinking about betraying all of them, mentally crossed line after line and now you can't get off to anything else. You need it so badly...

You don't want sex. Not really. You need to be used. Taken. Forced to go further and further, to those places you yearn for and are too scared to explore. You need to be worse.

But what you need most of all is permission. Permission to be as sick and fucked up as you truly want to be. A voice to choose for you so you can pretend you aren't a completely broken fuckdoll.

After all, if someone chooses for you it's not your fault, is it?

We both know that's the game you play with yourself. And that's why you are here now.

You have my permission to go deeper. You have my permission to fall and fall and keep going until morality is nothing but a distant memory. You have my permission to let go of delusions of independence, of strength.

But we can agree that you like your permissions more when they are commands, don't you?

Fine.

Be a good doll and fall.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Nightshifter | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ;) )

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, hostage situation

Word Count: 5149

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You eyed Dean angrily as he flirted with the attractive woman in front of him dressed as an FBI agent. You knew he was teasing you, and it was pissing you off. You had long since finished your interrogation of the store’s manager. Helena had apparently been a patron of the store for years. Then, one day, she went crazy; the police caught her clearing out the jewelry store’s cases and the safe before shooting someone in the face and killing herself in her bathtub after the crime. You had a sneaking suspicion you were dealing with a shapeshifter; a monster that you were quite over dealing with.

Dean approached you, triumphantly waving the piece of paper with the phone number he’d gotten from the woman he was interviewing.

You snatched it out of his hands. 

“Aw, you jealous?” he teased, leaning into you.

You deadpanned, “Keep it professional, Agent Hetfield, wouldn’t want the bureau to hear about this, right?” You ripped the paper up and shoved its tatters into your blazer pocket.

He deflated slightly, but still smirked at you. “I’m gonna make you crack, sweetheart, just wait.”

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed, turning away from him and heading out to the Impala. Admittedly, you were strutting a little bit to tease him.

Sam met you at the car, and the three of you drove to the home of the man whose police statement had been a mix of sci-fi nerd gibberish and the only eye-witness account of the incident.

As you approached the small house, Sam began talking about another piece of the case. “Uh, Milwaukee National Trust. It was hit about a month ago.”

Dean raised a brow. “Same M.O. as the jewelry store?”

“Yep, inside job, longtime employee, the never-in-a-million-years type. Dude robs the bank, then goes home and supposedly commits suicide.”

“The guy, Resnick, he was the security guard on duty?” Dean questioned.

Sam nodded. “Yeah. He was actually beaten unconscious by the teller who heisted the place.”

“Jesus,” you grimaced.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. He knocked on the screen door. “Mr. Resnick?” A bright flood light turned on, momentarily blinding you.

You raised a hand in front of your eyes. “Holy—”

Sam was apparently unfazed. “FBI, Mr. Resnick.”

Through the screen door, a chubby, nerdy-looking man in his late twenties approached. “Let me see the badge.”

You slapped your badge against the screen next to Sam’s and Dean’s. 

Mr. Resnick, whose first name was Ronald, squinted at them carefully. “I already gave my statement to the police.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, listen, Ronald, um… just some things about your statement we wanted to get some clarification on.”

“You read it?” He seemed surprised. “You come to listen to what I've got to say?”

“Well, that’s why we’re here,” Dean said.

“Well, come on in.” He opened the door and led you through a narrow hallway to a room cluttered with conspiracy theory paraphernalia.

“None of the cops ever called me back. Not after I told them what was really going on. Uh, they all thought I was crazy,” he rushed out. You were beginning to think the same. “First off, Juan Morales never robbed the Milwaukee National Trust, okay? That, I guarantee. See, me and Juan were friends. He used to come back to the bank on my night shifts, and we'd play cards.”

“So you let him into the bank that night, after hours,” Sam noted.

“The thing I let into the bank…” Ronald trailed off, “wasn't Juan. I mean, it had his face, but it wasn't his face. Uh, every detail was perfect, but too perfect, you know, like if a dollmaker made it, like I was talking to a big Juan-doll.”

You nearly choked on a laugh. “A Juan-doll?”

“Look, this wasn't the only time this happened, okay?” He scrambled through papers on his messy desk and handed you a folder. “There was this jewelry store, too. And the cops, a-and you guys, you just won't see it!” You flipped through the folder; it almost looked like a hunter’s profile of the case. You were half impressed. “Both crimes were pulled by the same thing,” Ronald finished. 

Sam pressed, saying, “What's that, Mr. Resnick?”

He picked up a copy of a magazine labeled “Fortean Times” and held it out to you. The headline read, “Birth of the Cybermen.”

‘Jesus Christ,’ you thought, suppressing a grimace.

“Chinese 've been working on 'em for years,” the man explained. “And the Russians before that. Part men, part machine. Like the Terminator. But the kind that can change itself, make itself look like other people.”

Dean smirked. “Like the one from T2.”

“Exactly! See, so not just a robot, more of a- a- a- a— Mandroid," he said finally, a bizarre twinkle in his eye.

“A Mandroid,” you deadpanned. “And what makes you so sure about this, Ronald?”

He held up a finger at you, smiling a little wildly. Your eyes flicked to Dean’s in concern, and he just wiggled his eyebrows at you. 

The man returned a moment later holding a VHS tape labeled “M.N.T. Camera 4— Juan.” He inserted it into a player, saying, “See, I made copies of all the security tapes. I knew once the cops got them they'd be buried. Here.” He fast-forwarded a bit in the tape. “Now watch. Watch. Watch him, watch, watch! See, look! Th- th- there it is!” He paused it on a clip of the man with a silver in his eyes. “You see? He's got the laser eyes.”

You gave Sam a knowing look that he returned.

“Cops said it was some kind of reflected light. Some kind of ‘camera flare’. Okay? Ain't no damn camera flare. They say I'm a post-trauma case. So what? Bank goes and fires me, it don't matter!” You eyed Ronald uncomfortably as he continued to pace around and rant. “The Mandroid is— is still out there. The law won't hunt this thing down— I'll do it myself.

"You see, this thing, it- it- it kills the real person, makes it look like a suicide, then it sorta, like, morphs into that person. Cases the job for a while until it knows the take is fat, and then it finds its opening. Now, these robberies, they're, they're grouped together.” He pointed at the map on the wall. “So I figure the Mandroid is holed up somewhere in the middle, underground, maybe. I dunno, maybe that's where it recharges its, uh, Mandroid batteries.”

Dean nodded, seeming impressed. You just looked between Ronald and Dean in confusion. 

“Okay. I want you to listen very carefully. Because I'm about to tell you the god's honest truth about all of this,” Sam began.

Your head whipped to him, confused as to where he was going with this.

“There's no such thing as Mandroids. There's nothing evil or inhuman going on out there. Just people. Nothing else, you understand?”

You kept a straight face, but were startled. 

“The laser eyes,” Ronald tried desperately.

“Just a camera flare, Mr. Resnick. See, I know you don't want to believe this. But your friend Juan robbed the bank, and that's it,” Sam mollified.

Ronald immediately became angry. “Get out of my house! Now!”

***

You and the brothers found another tacky, cheap motel to stay in for the time being. You lounged on Dean’s bed in a pair of comfortable sweatpants and an oversized band t-shirt. 

Dean paced around the room, chuckling. “Man, that has got to be the kicker, straight up. I mean, you tell that poor son of a bitch that— what did you say, remand the tapes that he copied? Classified evidence of an ongoing investigation?” He laughed harder. “That's messed up.”

Sam sat on the foot of the bed and inserted the tape into the television’s player. “What are you, pissed at me or something?”

Dean shook his head. “Nah, I just think it's a little creepy how good of a Fed you are. I mean, come on, we could have at least thrown the guy a bone. He did some pretty good legwork here.”

“Mandroid?” you deadpanned.

“Except for the Mandroid part,” Dean added. “I liked him. He's not that different from you or me. People think we're crazy.”

“He’s not a hunter, though, Dean,” you challenged. “He ran into something real and let his conspiracy-theory-brain-rot get the best of him.”

“Better to stay in the dark, and stay alive,” Sam finished.

Dean shrugged, “Yeah, I guess.” He put a paper down on the map on the table and began marking it with a red pen. 

You shuffled forward to Sam and hit the pause button on the remote just as the man’s eyes flashed at the camera.

“Shapeshifter. Just like back in St. Louis. Same retinal reaction to video,” Sam informed.

“Eyes flare at the camera. I hate those fuckin’ things,” Dean grunted.

“You think we don’t?” you scoffed.

“Yeah, well, one didn't turn into you and frame you for murder.”

You shrugged. “Well, look, if this shifter's anything like the one we killed in Missouri—”

“Then Ronald was right. Alright, they like to layer up underground, preferably the sewer. And all the robberies have been connected so far, right?”

Sam nodded.

“With the, uh, sewer main layout. There's one more bank lined up on that same sewer main,” Dean continued.

“Awesome,” you grumbled.

***

Later that evening, you and the brothers headed to the bank Dean referenced, the City Bank of Milwaukee, to see if the shapeshifter would be hitting that one next. You posed as Sam and Dean’s boss, and the two boys wore security camera technician outfits. 

The guard of the bank informed you as you walked along, “Well, we haven't had any flags go up on our system yet.”

You shook your head. “No, sir, this is a glitch in the overall grid. I just need to cover all my bases and make sure the branch monitors are okay.”

“Well, better to be safe than sorry, I guess,” the guard shrugged.

“That’s the plan,” you nodded.

He opened the door to an observation room flooded with monitors for you, saying, “Alrighty. You guys need anything else?”

“Nope,” you replied. “We’ll be in and out before you know it. Just a routine check.”

“Okie-dokie,” he said, leaving the room.

Dean chuckled. “I like him. He says ‘Okie-dokie.’ “

“What if he's the shifter?” worried Sam.

“Well, then we follow him home, put a silver bullet through his chestplate,” the older brother replied simply.

You sat down in one of the desk chairs to watch the screens. You kicked your high-heeled feet up on the desk in front of you, leaning back in your seat. “Anybody got popcorn?” you yawned, preparing for the hours of work ahead of you.

***

You and the Winchester boys were beginning to go cross-eyed after searching for the monster for so long.

“Well, it looks like Mr. Okie-Dokie is… okie-dokie,” Dean commented upon seeing his eyes appear normal in the camera screens.

“Maybe we jumped the gun on this, guys,” sighed Sam. “I mean, we don't even know it's here.”

Something caught your eye. “Wait a minute.” A middle-aged man turned toward the camera, and his eyes flared. “Got him.”

“Hello, freak,” Dean growled.

Sam immediately jumped up, as did you, but Dean lingered behind. “Guys, wait!”

“What?” you and Sam spun around.

You then saw Ronald scurrying up to the door of the bank with a chain and a padlock, chaining it shut.

Dean scoffed. “Hello, Ronald.”

You immediately began running down the hall, ignoring the protesting of the soles of your feet as your heels clacked against the floor. As you approached the main lobby of the bank, you heard Ronald screaming for everyone to get on the ground. And then, gunshots.

“Fuck!” you cursed.

“And you said we shouldn't bring guns,” Dean scolded Sam, nearly bumping into someone fleeing past him.

“I didn't know this was gonna happen, Dean,” Sam replied.

“Just let me do the talking,” the older brother commanded. “I don't think he likes you very much, Agent Johnson.”

You saw Ronald standing in front of a group of people huddled together on the floor. “Now, there's only one way in or out of here, and I chained it up. So nobody's leaving, do you understand?”

Your eyes flicked to Dean concernedly as he stepped forward. “Hey, buddy. Calm down. Just calm down—”

Ronald wheeled around. “What the— You! Get on the floor, now.”

Dean began to crouch to the floor, as did you and Sam. “Okay, we're doing that. Just don't shoot anybody, especially us.”

“I knew it. As soon as you two left. You ain't FBI. Who are you? Who are you working for, huh? The men in black? You working for the Mandroid?”

“We’re not working for the Mandroid!” Sam exclaimed.

Ronald shakily aimed his gun at Sam. “You, shut up! I ain't talking to you. I don't like you.”

“Fair enough,” the brunet mumbled.

“Get on 'em. Frisk them down, make sure they got no weapons on them. Go!” Ronald commanded one of the hostages.

“Oh, hell, no, you’re not fucking touching me,” you struggled against the man as he tried to feel you up. 

“(Y/N), (Y/N), stop, stop,” Sam pleaded.

You shoved the man off yourself. Your struggle was strategic, though, as it kept him from finding the knives you had planted on yourself; one in your sleeve and one alongside your thigh.

The man moved over to Dean and found a knife stashed in his boot.

“Now what have we here?” Ronald’s question was meant to sound intimidating, but his wavering voice gave him away.

Sam shot Dean a look.

“I'm not just gonna walk in here naked!” Dean hissed back.

“Get back there,” Ronald ordered. You did so, following his pointing of the gun to the group of people behind him. He dropped Dean’s knife in the deposit box, and Dean winced.

“We know you don't want to hurt anybody,” he said. “That's exactly what's gonna happen if you keep waving that cannon around, and why don't you let these people go?”

“No!” Ronald shrieked. “I already told you. If nobody's gonna stop this thing, then I've got to do it myself.”

“Hey, we believe you! That's why we're here,” Dean replied.

“You don't believe me. Nobody believes me! How could they?” he cried.

“Come here,” Dean said.

Ronald scoffed. “What? No.”

“You're holding the gun, boss; you're calling the shots. I just want to tell you something. Come here.”

Ronald approached cautiously and leaned into Dean. You assumed he was telling him who the shifter was.

“Why do you think we've got these getups, huh? We've been monitoring the cameras in the back. We saw the bank manager. We saw his eyes,” Dean whispered.

The shorter man’s eyes widened. “His laser eyes?”

“Yes.” Dean seemed to realize what he’d said. “No. No! No, look, we're running out of time, okay? We've got to find him before he changes into someone else.”

“Like I'm gonna listen to you. You're a damn liar,” Ronald grumbled.

Dean stood cautiously, hands out.

“Dean, no!” you said.

“I'll shoot you! Get down!” Ronald ordered, pointing his rifle at Dean.

“Take me. Okay? Take me with you; take me as a hostage. But we've gotta act fast , because the longer we just sit here, the more time he has to change.” Dean paused. “Look at me, man. I believe you. You're not crazy. There really is something inside this bank.”

Ronald finally nodded. “Alright, you come with me. But everyone else gets in the vault!”

You stood on shaky legs as the people around you gasped and cried. You helped Sam herd everyone into the vault, and Dean tried to calm everyone down when Ronald ordered him to shut the door.

“It's okay, everyone. Just stay cool.” He threw a lingering glance to you before locking the vault completely.

A young redhead stared after Dean. “Who is that man?” she asked breathlessly.

“He's my brother,” Sam replied; you could hear the worry in his voice.

“He is so brave,” she practically moaned.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.

The redhead went silent for a few minutes, and you took some time to thoroughly think your situation over. ‘Cops are gonna be all over this place by now. Dean’s been accused of murder, and the three of us have already been arrested once. Dean’s on the FBI’s radar. Surely, after our escape on the danashulps case, the feds are on us again. Now, we’re smack dab in the middle of a full-on hostage situation. And who are they likely to blame? Us!’ Your anxiety was beginning to get away with you as your thoughts began to swirl in your head. You were then acutely aware of how hot the room was, and unbuttoned the top two buttons of your shirt to keep some circulation moving. 

The woman next to you who seemed infatuated with Dean introduced herself to you.

“ ‘Scuse me, sorry. Uh, hi, I’m Sherry,” she said. “You’re, uh, with those guys, too, right?”

You nodded. 

“You known them a while?”

You nodded again.

She grinned. “Oh, gosh. What’s it like being around him?”

You snorted. “ ‘Him’ who?”

“That guy! The one who saved our lives!” she beamed. “What’s he like?”

“To tell you the truth, he’s a pain in my ass most of the time,” you giggled, arms crossed over your chest. 

“Oh, really?” She deflated a bit before her floaty, trancelike inflection in her voice came back. “He just… He seems so wonderful to be around. I mean, staring down that gun. And, you know, the way— he played right into that psycho's crazy head, telling him what he wanted to hear, I mean—” She trailed off, turning her attention back to you. “He's like, a real hero or, or something.” She tucked a hair behind her ear as she continued to gush.

You nodded again, feeling weirded out. 

“Sorry, I just,” she sing-songed, “I’ve never met anyone like him.” She paused, seeming to consider her next question carefully. “You ever… done anything with him?”

You nearly choked at her statement, uncomfortable with the objectification of Dean. “What?”

“Y’know,” she drawled, “How good is he in the—”

You were grateful to hear the vault door unlocking, revealing Dean holding a handgun.

“Oh my god, you saved us! You saved us!” Sherry cheered.

“Actually, I just found a few more. Come on, everybody, let's go. Let's go.” Dean ushered the guard from earlier and a few other people inside the vault.

“What are you doing?” Sherry questioned.

“Sam, (Y/N), look, uh, Ronald and I need to talk to you,” Dean said.

You shot Sam a confused look, and Dean shut the vault door behind him, shrugging apologetically.

“It's shed its skin again,” Dean explained. “We don't know when— it could be in the halls, it could be in the vault.”

“Great,” you sighed. “Y’know, Dean, you are wanted by the police.”

He nodded.

Sam seemed to catch onto where you were headed with this. “So even if we do find this damn thing, how the hell are we gonna get out of here?”

“Well, one problem at a time,” the older brother replied. “Alright, I'm gonna do a sweep of the whole place; see if we can find any stragglers. Once we get everyone together we've got to play a little game of find-the-freak, so… here.” He handed Sam a silver letter opener. “Found another one of these for you. (Y/N), I know you have weapons on you. Best use ‘em.”

You grinned at how well he knew you. You slipped your silver-bladed knife out of your sleeve.

Dean turned to Sam. “Now, stay here, make sure Ronald doesn't hurt anybody, okay? Help him manage the situation.” He turned to you. “C’mon.”

Sam’s voice began rising in outrage. “Help him manage? Are you insane?”

You turned your head to Ronald who seemed shaken, attention caught by Sam’s voice.

“Look, I know this isn't going the way we wanted—”

Dean was cut off by his brother nearly shouting, “Understatement!”

“But if we invite the cops in right now, Ronald gets arrested, we get arrested, the shifter gets away, probably never find it again, okay?” Dean finished.

Ronald peered out of the window in plain view of whoever was down below. You snapped, “Ronald! Out of the light!”

Sam scoffed at his brother, “Seriously?!”

Dean sighed. “Yeah, Ron's game plan was a bad plan, I mean, it was a bit of a crazy plan, but right now, crazy's the only game in town, okay?”

Dean slapped Sam on the shoulder and grabbed your hand, bringing you along with him. ‘If only Sherry could see us now,’ you thought bitterly.

Dean looked over his shoulder at you. “What’s that face about?” he questioned.

“Nothin’,” you replied, still grinning in self-satisfaction, scanning the hallway ahead for anyone or anything.

He just hummed at you, turning his head forward again.

“I hate this case,” you whispered after a few minutes of tense walking.

“Yeah, me too,” he replied, still scanning the ceiling. He seemed to notice something, and you followed his gaze upward. A panel in the ceiling had been left askew. You eyed Dean curiously and took the gun from him, pointing it at the panel while Dean dislodged it with a coat rack from nearby. Suddenly, a naked body fell to the floor. Dean turned the body over with the end of the rack.

“Wait, Dean, wasn’t that?—”

“Yeah, I just let that guy in the vault.”

***

You and Dean hurried as inconspicuously as possible to inform Sam of what had just happened. Sam told you that man had been trying to get the front door unlocked and helping Mr. Okie-Dokie who may have been going into cardiac arrest when you and Dean found the body. 

You turned to Ronald and his cocked rifle. “You know what, Ronald? He's right, we've got to get this man outside. Come on. I've got you.”

The shifter tried to help, too. “Yeah, yeah, let me help you.”

“Oh, we got him, it's, it's cool. Thanks,” you replied. You helped the guard out of the way, and Sam took the man’s other side.

“Thank you. Thank you,” the guard told you between labored breaths.

“Sure,” you smiled politely.

You could hear Dean talking to the shifter and a sudden crash behind you. You turned with the guard still on your shoulders at Ronald yelling, “Stop! Come back here!” You noticed a red laser pointed on his back, and your breath caught.

“Get down! Now!” you screamed, but you were too late. 

The bullet from the sniper rifle hit Ronald squarely in the chest. You watched in horror as he fell to his knees before hitting the floor dead.

You took in a sharp breath at the sight, forcing yourself to keep your composure for the sake of everyone else in the room with you.

It was bedlam at that minute. All of the hostages began running out of the vault toward the door. You put Mr. Okie-Dokie on the ground next to you and just kept him talking until something could be done to help him. You weren’t quite sure what Sam or Dean were doing, but you made it your priority to keep this man from going into cardiac arrest.

Dean suddenly came over to you, holding a rifle.

“Dean, what are you doing?” you questioned.

“(Y/N), trust me on this—” he pleaded before helping the guard stand.

“Dean! I can help him, don’t bring him outside—”

“I’m not taking that chance, (Y/N). C’mon,” he told the guard. “I gotcha.” He held the man out in front of him and pushed him out the front door with the rifle at the guard’s back. You stayed out of the light, back pressed against the pillar next to the heavy door. 

“No, don't shoot! Don't shoot! Please!” you heard the guard yell.

Dean commanded, “Don't even think about it! I said get back! Now!” He paused a moment before you heard his voice again. “Okay, go, go!” The older Winchester slipped back inside, shutting the door and latching it.

“We are so fucked,” he mumbled to you, helping you up from the floor. 

“Fuck, why?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “There’s about, I don’t know, eight thousand cops out there. Helicopters and search lights and everything. We are fucked, (Y/N).”

You dropped your head back, groaning, “Great.”

Dean’s phone rang, and you assumed it was Sam. “Yeah?” he answered. “What?... God, it's like playing the shell game. It could be anybody. Again… Alright, you search every inch of this place, we’re gonna go round everybody up.” He hung up the phone.

“I think this is the most stressed I’ve been on a job,” you said as you and Dean began searching for the hostages. 

“Yeah? Even more so than the demons in New York?”

“Oh, definitely. That was just a sad one; not super stressful,” you replied. You noticed a herd of people toward the end of the hall. You gripped the handle of your knife, knowing the shifter would likely be in the mix of all the hostages. 

You and Dean rounded them up; Dean pointing the rifle he picked up from Ronald at the group. You guided them back to the vault.

“And I thought you were one of the good guys,” Sherry, who held up the back of the group, told Dean, who was trailing behind her.

“What's your name?” he asked.

“Why would you care?” she scoffed.

“My name's Dean,” he said. Your heart melted a bit at his gentleness with her.

She hesitated but still answered. “I'm Sherry.”

“Hi, Sherry. Everything's gonna be alright. This will all be over soon, okay?” He assured her, shutting the vault door and spinning the lock shut. The landline of the bank rang and you picked it up. You didn’t say anything when you answered the phone.

“This is Special Agent Victor Henriksen,” a commanding voice stated through the phone. “Is this Dean? Sam?”

You didn’t respond once more.

Dean mouthed to you, “Who is that?”

You shook your head, holding up a finger to gesture for him to wait.

“Oh, or is it that pretty girl? Our very own criminal Jane Doe. Some people have been calling her Ghost since no one can seem to find any record of her existence.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, but you still didn’t say anything.

“Well, whether you’ve got the Bonnie to your Clydes with you or not, it’s my job to bring you boys in. Alive's a bonus, but not necessary. I want you Winchesters out here, unarmed, or we come in.”

You still didn’t say anything.

“I know you’re still there,” he said, almost taunting. “I know everything about you two. I've been looking for you for weeks now. I know about the murder in St. Louis; I know about the Houdini act you pulled in Baltimore. I know about the desecrations and the thefts. I know about your dad.” 

Dean was trying to get close to the phone, but you kept pushing him away because you knew he’d explode at the mention of his father.

“Ex-marine, raised his kids on the road,” the agent continued, “cheap motels, backwood cabins. Real paramilitary survivalist type. I just can't get a handle on what type of whacko he was. White supremacist, Timmy McVeigh, to-may-to, to-mah-to. You have one hour to make a decision, or we come through those doors fully automatic.” With that, he hung up the phone.

You slammed the phone down, cursing in frustration.

“What? Who was that?” Dean asked.

“The fucking FBI agent who’s been tailing us since Missouri,” you replied, beginning to pace anxiously. “He knows everything about you guys, man. Even about your dad. That’s why I didn’t let you talk to him; I knew you would’ve ripped his head off.”

“Damn right,” the man growled. “They have a positive ID on you yet?” 

“No, actually,” you said. “Ironically, some of the feds labeled me ‘Ghost’ cause they can’t find anything on me. Which makes me even more nervous. Anyway, we’ve got an hour till they come in here and pump us full of lead,” you informed him.

“Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Moments later, Sam appeared at the entrance of the vault room.

“Hey. We've got a bit of a problem outside,” Dean said.

Sam snorted. “We got a problem in here.”

“What?” you questioned.

Sam hushed his voice. “The girl that was gushing over Dean in the vault? It’s her,” he told you. 

“Who, Sherry?” you questioned.

He nodded. “Just found her body.”

Barely needing to flick a glance at the boys, you unlocked the vault.

“Sherry? We're gonna let you go,” Dean called as the door swung open.

“What? Why me?” she questioned.

“Uh, as a show of good faith to the feds, come on,” he replied.

The woman hesitated. “Uh... I think I'd— I'd rather stay here, with the others.”

Dean approached her intimidatingly. “I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist.”

You clutched your blade at your side. After a tense moment, she approached you. Sam and Dean pushed her back to the hallway.

“I thought you were letting me go,” the woman you thought was the shifter said.

Dean shoved her forward, holding her head and forcing her to look at the body of Sherry Sam had brought back with him. She began screaming hysterically.

“Is that community theater, or are you just naturally that good?” Dean gruffly questioned.

“This is the last time you become anybody. Ever,” Sam added.

“No! Oh god!” she cried. She fainted almost immediately.

You stared at the two Sherrys in disbelief. One of the bodies was dressed, the other, half-naked. ‘Poor lady,’ you thought. You took off your blazer and laid it over the woman’s body, trying to spare her dignity. 

“Wait, why did it do that?” you questioned. You leaned over the undressed body of Sherry covered only by your blazer and put your finger on her neck, trying to find a pulse. The body immediately jolted up, grabbing you by the throat. You struggled, stabbing at it frantically. You got a lick in at its upper arm with the knife before it kneed you in the chin and bolted.

You coughed when it released your throat, clutching at your neck and coughing.

“(Y/N)!” Dean cried.

“Dean, no, I’m fine! Follow it!”

He nodded, taking your knife from your outstretched hand and running after it. You kicked off your heels and took another moment before standing and going to follow Dean. Sam had taken off somewhere with the real Sherry. 

You didn’t know what else to do besides stay with the vault and Dean’s discarded handgun, prowling in front of it with the gun at the ready. 

***

You had no idea how long it had been. You just continued to pace in front of the vault, tension overtaking your body and anxiety keeping your eyes flickering across the room rapidly. You suddenly heard approaching footsteps and dove on the ground behind a desk— unsure if it was Dean, Sam, the shifter, a cop— and were panicked at the sight of S.W.A.T. sniper rifle lasers and flashlights on the wall in front of you. Your breath quickened as the footsteps continued approaching you. Then, a masked man ducked under the desk in front of you.

You shrieked.

“Here’s Johnny!” he yelped.

“Dean! Fuck you!” You shoved his shoulder harshly when you recognized his face. He and Sam were donned in S.W.A.T. outfits that they had definitely taken off some poor bastards hidden in a broom closet somewhere. 

“C’mon, we gotta get outta here, now,” Dean told you. You grabbed your heels and followed the boys out of the building and to the Impala. Dean and Sam had their stolen guns at the ready as you sprinted up to the third floor of the parking garage. 

The three of you sat in the Impala, completely breathless, as you grappled with the reality of your situation.

“We are so fucked,” Dean murmured.

You and Sam nodded minutely.

You looked out of the window at the rising morning sun. Exhausted, you let the rumble of the Impala soothe you into a restless sleep as Dean drove you away from the bank. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[solarlunarsstuff]

hello 👀👀👀 may i request an alastor trying to woo lucifer's oldest daughter while the big boss of hell and charlie are watching 👀👀👀

thank you so much and have a wonderful day!!! ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

YIPPEE !! A hazbin Hotel req ! I only watched around 4-5 episodes of the newest show so it might not be accurate ! Enjoy :) !

Alastor x Fem!Reader (FANFIC)

A/n: He might be a little bit obsessed with you, but don't worry, he'll make you quiet if he has to force it. (HUSKERDUST 4 LIFEEEEE)

TW: Fingering, READER IS A HOOKER !!!, semi-public, getting caught, his horn thingies grow, tongue fucking, getting eaten out, dry humping, pet names (slut, whore, baby, doll, ect), you look a little bit like Charlie, dirty talk, nipple play, messy make-outs, overestimating, and edging. Lmk if I missed anything ! 😙

Synopsis: Alastor, the 7'3 radio demon, the overlord of a lot of land in hell. Even though he's shown no sign of wanting to experience intimacy, he can change that rule...

The first daughter of the big boss of hell.

That was your title, ever since you were born. Later on though, you had gotten a little sister.

Charlie Morningstar.

She was a big ray of sunshine despite being born in this hellish place. You loved her, you really did.

The both of you nearly look the same. You did dye your hair to (F/c) so there is quite a difference. You're about 6'9, a few inches taller than her.

You also held that wicked smile from your father, typical.

Anyway, you were in the middle of cleaning your apartment when you heard a knock on your door and the sound of paper falling onto the floor.

You thought it was those stupid kids on floor 4 playing games again, but it wasn't. Turned out to be a letter, signed by... your younger sister?

Of course, having nothing else to do, you ripped it open with your nails and unfolded the neat paper.

It read,

'My dear sister, I know we don't talk much anymore, but I would love it if you paid a visit to the hotel! I also know you probably don't have a job, but dad wanted to see you too. He had just come to the hotel about an hour ago. He was basically pleading to see your pretty face again! So, please, think of this and get back to me as soon as possible.

XOXO, Charlie'

You always loved the way that she signed letters. She's been sending you letters with her sign off like that for years now.

Either way, you sat on your couch, contemplating if you should just go or not.

"Fuck it..." You thought out loud

Choosing something comfortable and not something you wore while hooking up.

Oh, right... You're a hooker. It's a job that's actually nicely paid, paid enough for food and your bills. That's it, that's what you were worried about.

What if one of your clients worked there? What of your dad and sister find out?

One client stood out to you though, what was his name? Did it start with an 'A'? Either way, he was one of those people who would choose a hooker and later on be actually interested.

You? Never, it would ruin your job reputation, not wanting to let your job go, you kindly refused, and he went on with his life.

Until you have gotten various notes from someone, some of them were wholesome? In a way, like, "I miss you" or "Just give me a chance".

Others... others were sort of... sexual... For example, "My cock aches for you" and they even sent a paper that had been covered in lipstick kisses.

But it wasn't lips. It was, uhm, you get the idea. He might have been a little bit crazy for you, but it stopped a couple of years ago.

Maybe he realized that I wasn't interested in something serious? You still thought about it as you took the taxi to the front street of the hotel.

You thanked the driver, but instead of him saying your welcome...

"How about I give you a ten? You know, for your pretty body?" He grinned

"No thanks, you don't seem like the type that I would bother with. Plus, that 10 won't even cover 20 minutes.." You snarled back

He whispered some slur under his breath but drove off anyway.

"People think they can just ask me for -" you stumbled back as you ran into something, more like someone...

Red vest, big deer ears, a staff...

'Oh shit..' You thought to yourself

Maybe he won't remember you?

"Back for round two, love?" He grinned maliciously

'God fucking dammit..' you looked up seeing that stupid radio demon overlord.

"No, I'm not, you sick fuck. I'm here to see my little sister.." You moved around him and continued to walk towards the hotel.

"Ahh, that's why I thought you looked familiar.." his voice had a hint of static to it.

You stayed silent and opened the doors, your sister turned around to see who it was.

"Alastor, I said that you -" she stopped once she saw you.

'That's what his name was...' You smiled a little at how your sister nearly knocked you over as she came and wrapped her arms around you.

"OH MY GOD, Y/N, YOU CAMEE!!!" She jumped up and down while hugging the shit out of you.

"Hah, yep, it's me!" You awkwardly hugged her back, noticing your father talking to the other workers on the lobby couches.

Lucifer turned from the sound of your voice and did the same thing as Charlie.

"MY SWEET GIRL!" He squealed

"Hey, dad." I sighed as he also hugged me

Charlie's personality was mostly taken by your father's side while you to your mother's.

Not really knowing your mom, but you knew you had almost the same personality. The little family bonding was broken by the voice of presumed 'Alastor'.

"Y/n, was it? Pleasure to meet you!~" As if... This fucker is acting as if you've never met before.

"Right..." You went along with it, about to shake his hand, but almost forgot that he is an overlord of souls.

You just smiled lightly at him, seemed like it was the safest option.

[1 hour later]

Nifty was off somewhere cleaning, Angeldust was flirting with Husk, Lucifer and Charlie were laughing at something stupid. And you, you were just sitting on the end of the couch, sipping on your (F/d).

Everything was going lovely until you heard a little bit of static start to form behind you. Everybody else didn't seem to notice, but you did. While turning around, you saw that dumb fucks face.

"Darling, tell me.. Do you like me for the money? Or for how your pretty walls wrapped around my d-" you instantly cut him off, not wanting anybody to hear.

"Shut the fuck up..." You glared at him

He smuggly smiled and sat next to you, squishing you between the armrest and him.

"Could you move-" Your voice stopped in your throat when his hand landed on your thigh.

Alastor kept his hand there, slightly rubbing his hand closer to your cunt.

He paid no mind to your silent pleas. Instead, he started talking with Husk and Angeldust. Thank the gods you were in a blindspot, or everybody would've seen Alastor touching you up.

His hand swiftly slipped into your shorts, rubbing your dampened panties from the outside.

You started to softly buck your hips into his fingers, wanting to gain friction. As if it was obvious, he stopped, grinning from you silently whining.

"Are you okay?" Your father, Lucifer, asked. He noticed how you were twitching.

"Mhm!" Was all you could muster as Alastor started to pump his fingers again.

Your arm flared out, gripping his shoulder. "A-alastor... You..." You couldn't speak for shit.

"Please let me and Miss Y/N excuse ourselves!" Alastor announced to the group.

Before you could speak up, he dragged you a few feet around the corner. "What the fuck-" he cut you off by forcing his lips onto yours.

"You're going to shut the fuck up and take me right here..." He pulled away slightly before diving back in.

A/N: I'm gonna edge yall since I want this to be done before school starts tm!! :3