thecranberriesslut - Tumblr blog

thecranberriesslut · 11 days ago

Text

The side not shown

Summary: You were best friends with Sam, he was the sweetest thing, until he wasn’t… but no one else saw how he tormented you with words glazed in honey, that sliced you like a sword. Pairing: Sam!Winchester x Fem!Reader (Jade) Wc: 3k Warnings: Dark Sam!Winchester, Dubcon, Teasing, Dirty Talk, Manipulation, Mean Sam!Winchester, Degradation, Sex, P in V, No Protection Whoops, Maybe Noncon But She Is Into It, Dead Dove Do Not Eat... Just read at your own risk, But he is like lowkey sweet if you squint, Not proofread I repeat this story is not proofread my deepest apologies for typos.

Sam Winchester was sweet as honey, golden as a retriever—atleast that's the side he showed you—until one rainy saturday night.

The shift had gone by slow, so slow that at one point you started wondering if someone had broken every single clock in that goddamned dive bar. There were very few customers in the bar, and you were trying to keep yourself busy with dumb little tasks like deep cleaning the top liquor shelf. The speakers played Arctic Monkeys on low, and the smell of cigarettes and beer hung in the air like a mist. You were bored out of your mind.

You had plans after closing, you'd go to another—more hip—bar near the centre of the sleepy town, with your friends. Your best friend Ruby kept messaging you relentlessly throughout your shift; she told you to hurry up, kick the old losers out and close for the night, but you had promised your boss that you could stay until 2:00, and you knew that any money made would help him a lot... so you decided to suck it up and keep the bar open.

You'd gone to the bathroom quickly to fix your shiny, long black hair into a sleek ponytail instead of a messy bun and add a bit of eyeliner and lipstick, you had two more hours until you could leave. When you came from the bathroom you almost started crying upon seeing who sat on the ratty bar stools.

Sam, Dean, Ruby, Jo, and Jamie.

"Ohmigod, what are you guys doing here?" You screamed at them, side-hugging Ruby and Jamie.

"Well, we thought, why not bring the party here." Sam said, grabbing himself a glass and pouring himself a beer over the counter. You shot him an annoyed glance.

"Two extra hours with our girl sounds pretty good to me." Said Jo, flinging her blonde hair back with her polished hands.

"Thank you, I was considering stuffing myself into the ice drawer just to keep myself awake." You laughed, moving back behind the counter swiftly.

"Drinks?" You asked.

After pouring them a couple of beers, a rum & coke and one vodka soda you took a sip of one of the beers before handing them out. Dean looked at you as if you'd just killed his dog.

"Relax, you can have the full one." You said, handing the one you drank out of to Sam. He smirked at you and took a sip from the glass right away. What the others—and probably him—didn't notice, was that he hadn't turned the glass so he could drink from the other side, he had placed his lips straight onto your lipgloss stain.

Maybe you were just horny, why would he do that deliberately? It was just an accident and you were simply going stir crazy.

After tending to other customers, pouring a couple of shots and cleaning some tables, you returned to the counter with a rag wrapped around your wrist.

"So, we still going to the other bar after this?" You asked everyone, but as Jamie was talking to Ruby and Dean, and Jo was in the bathroom, Sam was the only one paying attention to you while playing with his glass.

"We'll see how you behave." He said, dismissively.

You almost knocked a glass over.

"Huh?" You asked.

"What's up?" He added, his voice going an octave up at the end.

Had you imagined it? Even if you hadn't it was clearly a joke... a joke that made your panties wet immediately, but a joke nontheless.

You poured yourself a vodka russchian and sipped on it slowly as you watched the rain pour outside. It was actually kind of a nice night, and had you not had plans after, you might've kept the bar open 'till three just to sit at the empty table in front of the window, watch the pouring rain and daydream about something.

"So, you've been working the entire night, no breaks even though there are literally 4 customers?" Dean asked.

"I mean, someone's gotta do the dumb tasks too, right? Figured I could use this time for good." You answered, twirling your ponytail.

"Nah, she's prolly been reading smut behind that counter." Ruby joked, her voice rough.

You blushed. Obviously you hadn't been reading smut but Ruby was the only one you had ever talked to about this kind of thing, and now everyone knew.

"Seriously? You read that stuff?" Dean laughed.

"Oh I fuckin' bet she does, what gets you going, huh? Some alpha omega action?" Sam joked. You almost choked on laughter.

"Sounds like someone's experienced." You replied.

"I ain't the one getting my rocks off on being obedient." He said, matter-of-factly. Everyone laughed but your brain stopped functioning at obedient. It was like a trigger word, something everyone knew but really wouldn't use in that context without being atleast a little bit familiar with the connotation.

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and against your fair skin it became embarrasingly obvious after a while. You grabbed a rag and started scrubbing the counter.

"Aw, I'm sorry... I really didn't mean to hurt your feelings, now you're all quiet." It sounded sincere, to everyone else atleast. You were the only one who saw his eyes, they didn't lie in telling you that he wasn't being nice.

"Maybe she got turned on, didn't ya baby?" Ruby joked, caressing your hand with hers. This was quite normal for you two, despite you both being straight... you seemed to think that flirting with eachother was hilarious.

"Sure hun, come in the back with me?" You joked back.

"Hand's sure shaking a lot, my words go straight to your core?" Sam joked too. But it didn't feel like Ruby's joke, everyone laughed, including you, but what bothered you was that your hand was shaking, and Sam could seemingly see through you like a piece of glass.

You brushed it off and cashed out the last customers, it was 1:50 and you were ready to go, so you told everyone to go wait outside, so you could close up, and that you'd join them soon. Before you started locking everything up, you decided to go to the bathroom quickly, but you'd already turned the lights off so you were navigating your way to the bathroom through complete darkness, your trip was going well until... you hit something.

A wall.

No.

A person.

You let out a scream but were stopped by Sam's voice.

"Shut up, it's just me." He said, he sounded annoyed.

"Jesus you almost gave me a heart attack."

"Well what's the point in walking around in darkness when you're so fuckin' sensitive."

"Just on edge."

"Huh." Not a question, just a reaction, like he knew you were on edge.

You went to turn the light switch on but Sam's large hand stopped yours from hitting it.

"What?" You asked, now annoyed.

"You scared?" His voice came out low.

"I mean, kind of, I can't see anything." Why was he being such an ass.

"You kinda like being scared though, no?"

"I- what?"

His free hand found it's way to your hair and he pulled it back suddenly, the sudden sting made you let out a yelp, but your mouth closed tight when you felt his lips on your ear.

"How do you even know I'm sam, huh?" He taunted.

"I could be some bad, bad man... waiting here for you all night long, waiting to hurt you."

"Sam, please stop it, this isn't funny." You whined, now trying to get out of his grip, but the more you trashed, the harder he held you.

"No, It's not." He said, before moving his lips to your neck and planting sloppy kisses along the length of it.

You couldn't hold in a moan and as soon as it escaped your lips you heard Sam laugh.

"Aren't you responsive." He smiled, you could hear it in his voice.

"I'm telling everyone what a freak you are." You joked.

"They won't believe you. A sensitive little girl who gets wet from hearing the word obedient."

You let out a silent gasp.

"Readin' all those smut books, for what? You can barely handle words, you think you could handle a big, mean cock?" He asked, so casually, so cruelly.

"Fuck, shut up." You said.

"Why, you spilling over the edge?"

And in a second the lights were on and you could hear Jo's voice from the door. You looked up to see Sam, smirking like a fucking bully, his eyes dark like those of a demon.

"Sam, did you find her? Let's go!" Dean yelled.

After walking out of the hall you gathered your things quickly and went to leave.

"You look all flushed?" Ruby asked.

"Doesn't she?" Said Sam.

The night went by nicely. Sam didn't mention your encounter once and didn't really make any jokes, you thought you had managed to get away from his torment, until the next weekend, when you were all at Jamie's cabin.

The day had started to grow darker and Jo was looking for candles, since Jamie's cabin didn't have any electricity. She managed to find a couple of white candles, and she lit them around the main area of the cabin. The soft glow illuminated the wooden walls beautifully, turning the wood into soft honey.

"I brought us some game cards!" Jo yelled out, while going through her bag. You were putting drinks and food into the fridge.

"What, like uno?" You asked.

"More like question cards." She said.

"Dirty questions?" Jamie chimed in.

"Obviously they're dirty questions." Jo laughed and threw the cards on the table.

Sam and Dean were outside turning on the water, and Ruby was making her bed upstairs.

"Jade can you make the card table, like put the cards on it and drinks and shit." Jo asked, going upstairs.

"Yeah, sure."

Not before long, everyone was seated around the table, drinks in hand, incense burning in the corner of the room, making it smell like oranges and amber. You were eating popcorn.

Sam cleared his throat.

"Okay, mine says... pick a player to share one embarrasing thing that turns them on." Sam said, his eyes immediately landing on you.

You shook your head no, ever so slightly, which clearly meant to Sam; 'Please pick me to answer I'm itching to tell you all about my embarrasing sex life.'

"Jade." His voice was warm, devious.

"Umm... man I don't know."

"Oh come on Jade!"

"Spill it!"

"Come on you loser!"

Everyone's voice blended into one big scream that was forcing you to leave your ever so nice comfort zone.

"Okay fine! I guess... hands." You confessed, covering your face with yours.

"Hands?" Said Jo.

"What's so great about hands?" Jamie asked.

"I dunno..."

"She likes to imagine them all over her, right?" Sam said, not even looking at you, but at the others. They giggled, you were dying inside.

Sam grabbed your glass, which looked so tiny in his hand compared to yours and squeezed it, which made all the veins in his hand look plump.

"This turning you on?" He asked with a smirk on his face.

You narrowed your eyes and shot him a tight smile.

"Shut up, so dumb." You grabbed your glass from him.

You wanted to be able to say that his big stupid hands did absolutely nothing for you, but the truth was that you couldn't stop imagining that hand wrapped around your throat instead of the glass.

He shot you a quick smile.

"Take a card." He said, and you did.

The game went on, Sam's teasing went on, and no one noticed. At one point you were so done with it that you went to the kitchen to pour yourself another drink, even though there were enough at the table. Sam followed you.

"Pour me one too?" He asked. You poured him a drink, not happily.

"Don't squeeze this glass and break it." You shot.

"Nah, been thinking of wrapping my hands around something else." He said, his tone not shivering a bit.

"What?"

"Isn't that what they do in those books of yours? Wrap their hands around someones throat and tell them to be good?"

"Jesus..." You whispered, trying to brush him off.

"I'm kidding."

"I know."

"No you don't."

He shot you a smile before turning back to the room, back to Mr. Brightside. He made you feel like you were losing your mind, so fucking annoying, so entitled, so... hot.

The game was played, lights turned off, 3 people were already snoring... but you couldn't sleep. The tiny nightlight on your bedside table made this humming sound, but you didn't like to sleep in the dark, and you could hear cicadas outside, it's like everything you experienced was amplified.

And you knew why.

Ever since that thing at the bar, you had been slowly going insane with desire. You wanted to know if Sam was kidding, you wanted him to stop, you wanted him to keep going. You couldn't sleep because all you could think was; 'What would have happened if Jo hadn't come into the bar?'

But you thought about Sam's words even more. How could you handle him when you were ripped apart by simple words, how could he touch you without breaking you, did he even want to, did you want to be broken?

The copious amounts of alcohol you had managed to down during the game helped you make the decision you made.

Or maybe it was horniness.

Nevertheless, there you were, standing outside of Sam's room, wearing an oversized T-shirt and panties, you'd even applied lipgloss.

Pathetic.

You knocked.

He opened the door, he was wearing grey sweatpants and no shirt, and a shit eating grin.

"Can't sleep?" His voice sounded groggy.

"No."

"I can take care of that."

"How?" You knew how. He knew, that you knew how.

"Get in."

In seconds, the door was closed, you were pushed against it, and his mouth was on your neck. His warm hands were all over you, like he was studying your body.

"You wanna know a secret?" He asked.

"Okay."

"You have to touch every inch of their bodies, see what makes 'em whine the most and keep doing that."

You whined at his words. Whined. God, how touch starved could a person be.

"Um... I'm kinda scared."

"Good."

He lifted you up, holding you in his lap, facing him, as he carried you to the bed. He dropped you on it, not hard, but you still felt it in your stomach. You eyed the door.

"Look at the door all you want, you're not leaving." He whispered in a low tone.

His words scared you, made your breath hitch, your eyes widen... your panties wet.

His hand travelled down your stomach to your thighs, he squeezed your inner thigh and bit your neck slightly. His hand ghosted on your centre, but never pressed down, never gave you enough.

"Sam..."

"Mhmm?"

He was fucking enjoying it, the torture, the whines. Sadist.

"Just," Your hand found his, and you tried to move it to your core, but he grabbed your wrist and brought it beside your head, holding you down. You let out a groan.

"You want something?"

"Yes, fucking yes."

"How about you ask for what you want nicely, you know... behave." He sounded so calm, too calm.

"Just touch me."

...

"Please..."

"Atta girl." His hand snaked down to your panties and he pulled them down slowly. He let out a low whistle at the mess you'd made. You trashed in his hold and he made a 'tsk' sound, before pressing his middle finger to your clit.

His finger began moving faster and faster, and you were embarrased at how fast you were nearing your orgasm. You spilled over the edge when you heard him moan. Moan. From pleasuring you. What a fucking godsend.

He wasted no time getting himself inside you. He moved slowly, so slowly that it hurt more than if he would've just put it in fast. You whined and moaned at the stretch and he just looked at you with his pretty brown eyes, a sad look on his face.

"Oh, I know... I know." He taunted. So mean, so cruel.

After he had pumped in and out of you a couple of times, the pain began turning to pleasure, and you couldn't hold the sounds in anymore.

Sam placed his hand on your mouth and pressed down.

"You don't want them to hear all the pretty sounds you're making for me, do you?"

You shook your head.

"Goood girl."

You approached your orgasms together, he held onto you so hard you were going to bruise tomorrow, but you couldn't think straight with his cock inside you and his hand on your mouth.

"Look at me." His voice was hoarse.

You looked into his eyes and saw heaven.

When he pulled out and crashed onto the bed, you began getting up, but he wrapped his forearm around your waist and pulled you into him. He breathed in your scent and let out a couple of mmph's.

"Gonna pretend like you hate me tomorrow?" He asked, voice sleepy.

"I do hate you."

"Sure you do, sweetie."

—

Bonus pics

84 notes · View notes

thecranberriesslut · 11 days ago

Text

#girlblogging #lana del rey #aesthetic #manic pixie dream girl #dark femininity #dark feminine energy #dark feminine aesthetic #dark aesthetic #effy stonem #effy skins #megan fox #jennifers body #jennifers body aesthetic #autumn aesthetic #girly things #girls on tumblr

5 notes · View notes

thecranberriesslut · 13 days ago

Text

I’ve been too happy lately… my poetry is suffering

#poets on tumblr #writers on tumblr #girlblogging #lana del rey #aesthetic #poetry #manic pixie dream girl #girly things #tumblr girls #tumblrina

3 notes · View notes

thecranberriesslut · 23 days ago

Text

Lowk

#face reveal #girlblogging #lana del rey #aesthetic #poetry #manic pixie dream girl #autumn #spotify #autumn aesthetic #girly things #jamesfranco #fanfic series #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writer stuff #thecranberriesslut

3 notes · View notes

thecranberriesslut · 1 month ago

Text

Cabin no.5, Pt.2

Summary: After meeting Ghost for the first time, he leaves for a mission, you can’t stop thinking about him when you’re alone but you don’t know that he feels the same way.

Pairing: Simon!Ghost!Riley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Power imbalance, Degradation, Mean Ghost, Power Dynamics, DubCon, Misogynistic Ghost if you squint, Read at own risk

Notes: Took me a while to get you a second part but goddamn I did it. I did not put this through grammar checkers but only checked myself so might contain errors, english is not my first language.

Pt. 1 here!!!

It had been two weeks since you had arrived. Your superior, Ghost—who you later came to know by the name Simon Riley—had been called out on a mission just a day after you arrived, so you had the cabin all to yourself for a couple of weeks and you were being trained by König.

König wasn't mean, atleast not to your face. He made you do all the required tasks, sure... but he never yelled at you or put his hands on you deliberately. Now this should've been a good thing, a great thing, even—a professional training officer who never degraded you—but no matter the denying, half of those two weeks were spent yearning for Simon. The way he'd tested you on your very first night, the way he flirted with you—or was it flirting?—you didn't know. You were told he would be back sometime this week, and every night as you lay in bed alone, you felt the undeniable heat of excitement fill your lower stomach as you waited for the cabin door to fly open.

The fall had turned from cold to freezing in just a couple of days, training with König during evenings were filled with badly heated cabins and too much burnt coffee to keep you warm and energized. Tonight was no different.

You poured the coffee into a thermos and adjusted your belt, trying to stop it from digging into your skin. König was standing next to you, sipping his coffee in silence. You thought about sparking up a conversation but quickly stopped yourself; he wasn't the kind to chit chat.

For all you know he could've hated you all this time, it's not like he ever voiced his opinions, even in combat, he'd direct you by using a couple of words here and there. Weirdly, that was more effective than him yelling at you full throat.

The faint yellow light inside the cabin illuminated the dark woods surrounding it, you could see a couple of snowflakes hit the window with the wind. You had just finished training but were preparing for the cold, cruel walk back to your cabin and a night of mission planning. They always made the rookies do paperwork at night, a tactic of scaring or degradation, you didn't know.

"I'll head out then." You said, picking your gear up off the floor and making your way to the door.

You were met with a quiet mhmm, before you left.

You could've sworn that it was december already; the wind was loud and obnoxious, throwing icy daggers down your spine with every step you took. The woods were dark and—as much as you didn't want to admit it—scary. You always felt like you were being watched, but tonight... more than ever.

As soon as you stepped your left foot inside the cabin, you felt it... Ghost was back.

You didn't even see him before you hit the light switch, but you could feel him, sense him, smell him. The second you opened the door, you were met with a cloud of cologne, gunpowder, and sweat. And as much as you had waited for Ghost to come back, those nights of not being able to keep still, just thinking of what he might say or do once he got back... here you were, here he was, here you both were. Words unspoken, air so dense it could be penetrated with a knife.

You felt it before he even said anything; he had come back a changed man, a terrifying man. Of course he had this aura about him before he left too, the kind that could make even the tallest of men feel tiny... but something about him was different. He was exuding this quiet, overpowering energy, something deep and dark.

At first you wrote it off as the kind of thing that happens to soldiers on missions, seeing over their limits of horrifying things, doing horrible things... but as soon as he stood up, as soon as he turned his gaze to you and you were met with his darkened eyes and hungry expression, you realized exactly what had made him like this.

"König been training you good?" He asked. It wasn't a question of genuine care or curiosity, no. He was making small talk, possibly to distract you, or something else, you didn't know. But you backed away on instinct, before he could even attempt to follow his question up with a physical movement.

"Yup." You answered.

Silence.

Your eyes were having a conversation of their own, yours travelled onto every single surface of the room except him. His were glued to you, he seemed unable to focus on anything else. When you caught his eyes for a little while, a smirk appeared on his face, he had gotten a taste.

To break the tension, you decided to ask him about his mission.

"All rainbows and peaches, how about you?" He glanced at your neatly made bed. "Been sleeping good all by yourself?" He asked, like he knew something.

You hadn't been sleeping good, you hated sleeping alone, especially surrounded by these horribly lonely woods. You also found yourself yearning for Ghost on the quietest hours of the night. Thinking about the way he had held you in a chokehold when you first arrived and talked to you in that voice—that fucking voice—had helped you fall asleep more times than you'd like to admit.

"Yes, why?"

"You do know that each rookie has an active walkie-talkie in their room when left alone?" He said, so calmly, yet so deviously.

"What?" You yelled in shock. "Isn't that like... an invasion of privacy?"

"We share sensitive information with new trainees on the daily, gotta watch out for spies." He said.

"What the fuck, why wasn't I told?" You said, fuming.

"Well, I could've told you, sure... and I was going to as soon as I got a break on my mission."

"And, Why didn't you?"

"Well then I started hearing these small, tiny, pathetic really, noises during the night." He smirked.

Your eyes widened and you almost choked on your breath.

"Then on some nights, they were followed by quiet, quiet words, and the words really piqued my interest." He started. "Care to recall what word was your favourite during these late-night wake up calls."

Your cheeks turned into a shade of crimson. You wanted to sink into the deepest part of the earth and stay there.

"Please, just don't." You begged, you couldn't take this.

"Oh, Ghost... mmh Ghost!" He mocked the way you had moaned his name while touching yourself when you were alone. But the way he made his voice all breathy and low... really just turned you on more than anything.

”So, you did get a little lonely?” He asked, or, stated.

”Shut up.”

He took a couple of confident steps towards you, you backed up until your back hit the wall behind you; almost knocking a map off the wall.

”You know, I thought about you while I was away.” He said, smiling.

”Why?” You asked. Why would he think about you, you had met him once and he acted like you were the most annoying little girl he’d ever met.

”Because from the moment I first saw you, you’ve invaded every inch of my body and soul.” He confessed.

He was just inches from you when his big hand reached out to touch your face. You flinched away, you weren’t sure if his touch would burn or freeze you.

”I want to devour you, break you… and make you a good fucking soldier.”

Your mouth fell agape, his words were so crude, so mean… they were the hottest thing you’d ever heard.

And suddenly, you heard an alarm sound.

”All units report to the headquarters, we need all troops on call.”

You asked Ghost what this was about, not with your words, but with your eyes.

”You heard the captain.” He groaned, he seemed devastated.

You went to open the door but before you got it open, his hand stopped you. He turned you around and moved his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you into him.

At first, he planted a gentle kiss on your forehead, then… when you didn’t resist, he moved to your mouth, kissing you like a man starved. His lips were soft and tasted of cigarettes and sweat, and somehow that was your favourite taste ever. He kissed you like he was trying to inhale your soul through your mouth, like you were his lifeline.

It didn’t last very long, he pulled away and smirked at the sight of you, red cheeked and panting.

“We have to go, soldier.”

#simon ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost simon riley #ghost smut #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod x female reader #cod smut #ghost cod #dark smut #fanfic series #cod fanfic #girlblogging #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #winter aesthetic

122 notes · View notes

thecranberriesslut · 2 months ago

Text

Dior Cologne

Summary: Written from the pov of Tashi Duncan, Tashi finds something that leads her to an old flame she though she'd put out. Turns out that sometimes, old flames burn the hottest. Pairing: Tashi Duncan x Patrick Zweig Warnings: DubCon, Degradation, Forcefulness, Smut, Dirty themes, Dirty talk, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, violence, Read At Own Risk, P in V without a condom, Wrap It Before You Tap It... Wc: 2,5k Notes: This is in the Challengers universe, also I'm so sorry about this being mean towards Art I think he's so hot and adorable but... this is also hot as fuck. Anyways please tell me what you think, be brave, any feedback is very much welcome. Also very sorry for possible typos, english isn't my first language. Okay enjoy, XoXo.

What drove me to him? To the man I hate—despise.

There’s no rationalizing human desire.

Art was always far too docile... obedient. At first, I didn’t mind it—I actually preferred it. There was something about the way he’d ask me before committing to anything, the way he’d look at me during a tennis match with that question in his eyes:

'Is it okay if I don’t win this? How am I doing?'

It started to get under my skin, like a tick—annoying, persistent—the way most husbands do. But over time, that itch grew, eating at me, making me look at him in a way I’d hoped I’d never see anyone. The tick turned to irritation, then exasperation.

And now, as he lay here with his warm, tear-stained head on my bare legs, I feel nothing but resentment towards him.

“If you don’t win tomorrow, I’ll leave you.”

I mean it. I’ve never meant anything more in my life.

The blue moonlight drows the room in despair. He smells like something fragile, something that needs protection—a small, pathetic animal.

Art’s failure to truly compete, his lack of fire when it came to what he wanted… his absolute inability to fight tooth and nail—inevitably it drove me mad.

And I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t about tennis.

I’ve never cared about anything as much as I care about tennis. It’s the only time in my life I feel alive, dead, horny. Art cares about me—that’s why he plays, that’s why he does anything. He wants me to be happy. But he doesn’t understand me. He doesn’t see what I see when I look at the world, at him, at tennis.

Never have I felt more understood, more alive, than when I fought with Patrick before that one match years ago—the match that ended my career forever. I hadn't seen him since, until we spoke earlier today.

I still remember the cologne he used to wear.

I used to love perfume samples. You spray a scent you adore, tuck it in your pocket, and then forget about it. Until years later, when you put on an old jacket, that scent lingers for a moment. Just for a moment, you’re back in time.

Maybe your perfume is finished, maybe it doesn’t smell the same as it used to, maybe you just need a change. But somehow, you take out that little paper sample, smell it again, and maybe even go to the store to buy a new (old) perfume.

So imagine my surprise when I go to leave the house past midnight. Art is fast asleep, and I need to clear my head. His leather jacket lay on the couch, so I slip it on. Absentmindedly, I stuff my hands in the deep pockets—and feel a piece of cardboard.

I pull it out. Dior, it reads.

A perfume sample.

I smell it. For a split second… I'm back in that sweaty hotel room. Wearing his shirt, my face inches from his, spitting crude insults at him, his hand holding the back of my hair—not quite tugging, just making sure I understand he could, if he wanted to.

Patrick.

In Art’s pocket lay, innocently, a piece of cardboard coated in Patrick’s cologne.

And fucked up as it sounds, I’ve never felt hornier. The thought of Art deliberately finding that perfume, bringing the sample home… Patrick’s hold on him had always been—and would always remain—relentless.

I knew where Patrick was staying. He’d come to see me the night before, asking about coaching him. I told him to fuck off, but when he mentioned the address, the hotel room number… I’d never held onto anything tighter.

He says nothing when he opens the door. Neither do I. He knows.

I linger by the doorway. My legs won't let me step inside.

“You know you can come in, Tashi,” Patrick says. His voice is velvet. He looks at me through hooded lids, his left lip twitching.

“And you know I despise you,” I answer. I mean it.

“Then why are you here?” His lips curve into a mischievous smirk.

I stare at him. Why was I here?

“Get the fuck in, Tashi.”

Without hesitation, as I leaned slightly towards the room, his strong hand wrapped around my wrist—coating my golden bracelet—and pulled me inside. I kicked the door closed with my heel. Reflex. I didn't think about it. I didn't choose to close it, but I did.

I lock eyes with him and raise my arm, still held by his hand.

“I didn’t come here to get assaulted.”

He smiles. His hand slips off my wrist. For a moment, I think I’ve broken him. Made him surrender. Made him Art.

“I think that’s exactly why you came here,” he says matter-of-factly, voice steady and sure.

I push his chest, catching him off guard, but not for long. He steadies himself, unmoved, unwavering.

“See, I know you.”

“You don’t know me,” I spit, more defensively than I intended.

He licks his lips, legs twitching—as if fighting the urge to pounce.

“Art doesn’t give you that feeling. That fire. He never pushes back,” he says, taking slow, taunting steps toward me.

Before I can react, he shoves me hard. I slam into the wooden door with a hollow thump. He stands there, inches from me, looking me up and down. He's challenging me. I can't tell him that that's not why I came, because I know—he knows—that's exactly why I'm here.

So I gather up saliva in my mouth, draw my head back... and I spit in his face. As the spit hits his lips and nose, I see just a moment of hesitation behind his eyes—until pure anger fills his features.

“Wrong move.”

He plunges forward. Before I can feel his hands on me, I feel the air shift from the sudden movement. I don't have time to think before I feel his big, strong hand around my neck. It tightens immediately. I struggle to breathe for a second, but as if he knows the exact moment I'm about to start fighting back, the grip on my neck loosens—and his lips come crashing onto mine.

He kisses me like a man starved, like I'm his last meal. The fight of our tongues is relentless before his other hand finds its way straight to the most sensitive part of my hip, and he digs his fingers into my skin in a clear attempt to hurt me. This distracts me enough for him to push his tongue deeper into my mouth and claim victory in our wordless battle.

I attempt to push him off of me; I'm not surrendering this easily. But just as quickly as I manage to grab him by the collar of his T-shirt, his hands are on my wrists, and he's binding them beside my head on the wall. His grip is bruising. Intentional. I don't think I've ever felt more turned on in my entire life.

“Does Art do this, huh?” he asks me in a breathy voice before lowering his attention to my neck. His lips find my pulse point, and his teeth graze the skin ever so slightly.

Patrick is sloppy in his life—everything he does. He plays tennis like an adolescent who has just broken up with his middle school girlfriend. He talks like a sloppy comedian. He's not precise in much. But the way he finds every single spot on my body that could ever bring me pleasure—suddenly he is the most calculated man on earth. The precision of a brain surgeon.

“Toughen up, huh?” he taunts. Oh, how he taunts me... it's delicious.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Oh, but you love it... you're addicted to it.” He starts again, drawing slow—awfully, painfully slow—lines on my neck with his lips.

“You love the fact that you're at my mercy... with Art it's like, he probably asks for your permission before he cums. Or maybe he fucking begs for it.”

“Not true,” I say, my voice so silent I'm not even sure if he hears it.

Of course, that is the total and complete truth. One time he even asked me—deliberately—if I would call him names, be a powerful woman, make him feel oh-so-powerless. It was fun for a while. It's never a disappointment to see a man on his knees... but it wasn't passionate, it wasn't raw. It was only that, which didn’t satisfy me. Fun.

“Well, I mean, there's no reason to lie. You seriously think I don't know how he sounds when he's begging? The absolutely pathetic little whines he lets out when he doesn't get what he wants.” He whispers this in my ear, drawing out the words and speaking in such a deep voice. And for some fucked-up reason, hearing him admit that he's made my husband beg him causes arousal to pool in my satin panties. I grind my hips on nothing, so slightly, praying that he won't notice.

“I won't beg,” I say, really believing myself when I say it.

“Oh, I'll make you fucking beg.” His knee moves between my legs, pinning me to the wall completely. He keeps it very still—if I want friction, I'm going to have to create it.

I start to grind my hips again, but this time his knee moves away from me, just out of reach. I look at his eyes—his dark, intense eyes—and I see how much he enjoys this.

I'm not going to play his game. I won’t. My lips crash onto his again. I wish that he'll lay me down on the bed and fuck me—without any begging on my part.

“You think I don't know exactly what you're doing?” he laughs, pulling away from me.

“I'm not doing anything.”

“Sure. And I don't have to either. I can leave you standing there, looking oh-so-pathetic, with only your little delicate fingers to help yourself.” He cocks his head to the side, as if to ask me what it is I want to do.

His words cause an involuntary whine to escape my lips. It's too late to wish he didn’t hear it when I see the look on his face.

“Oh, poor Tashi. It's one fucking word. Don’t be stupid.”

Please. That’s what he wants to hear. Me begging for his touch. For something.

“You can go die for all I care,” I say as I move to the door, place my hand on the door handle, and twist it.

“Tashi... please.” I hear a faint voice, almost inaudible, as I'm halfway out the door.

Oh, fuck me. He's in my veins.

I fling the door closed so hard that I can feel the floor shaking. The thunderstorm outside crashes water drops against the thin hotel windows; a couple get in from the agape window. I run back to him and throw him onto the bed with my body weight. I can feel his smile as I bury my face in his neck.

“Guess you do like a man that begs.” He says, with a smug smile painted on his beautiful face.

“Guess you can't make a woman beg.” I say.

He laughs. The sweet velvety sound invades my every sense; it drowns out the couple fighting next door, the raindrops; I can't even feel the burn in my neck anymore from where he choked me.

I bring my manicured hand to his neck and squeeze; I'm not one to leave a score uneven. But it's not long before he turns us around with his body, so he is now on top of me, my hand still on his neck... but it feels almost mocking now.

“Take off your shirt.” He says. And I do.

“You know, I've needed you from the moment that I saw you play that game against Anna Mueller.” He says, looking into my eyes, into my soul.

“Really?”

“Baby, I crave you, and I know you crave me too...” He starts. His sentence travels off when he starts to plant soft kisses along my collarbone, making his way lower until his mouth is on the hem of my shorts.

Softly, he unbuttons them, and pulls them off. His warm hand toys with the hem of my panties for a moment before he slips his finger in through the side and finds the exact spot that I've needed him to touch since I got here.

He draws lazy circles first; slow, calculated, but after I let out a quiet moan, he picks up the pace. His middle finger pushes into me with ease, and I gasp as he curls it, finding my g-spot. I'm getting close, and he knows it—oh, he knows it, because he stops his movements a millisecond before I get my sweet release.

“What the fuck?” I yell, not meaning to be so loud, but who the fuck does that?

“You can't be that naive—one word, that's all I need.”

“You're a psychopath.”

“So are you.”

I move to kiss him again, but he moves away, dodging my kiss. I feel so frustrated, mostly I feel stupid, I should've known.

I just stare at him. He stares at me. He doesn't seem bothered one bit; he only looks at me with just the slightest smirk on his dumb fucking face and his hand still in my panties.

I roll my eyes.

“Please.” I say, ever so quiet.

“Tell me what you need.”

“I need you, I fucking need you, Patrick.”

With that, he's ripping my expensive panties in half. He tries to open the button of his jeans, but his movements are too hasty, too... uncalculated.

I flip him over while he's distracted with his jeans and sit on top of him. I help him get the jeans off and quickly guide his—big—tip to my entrance, before he has a chance to protest.

Through the relentless pumping, I manage to get out.

“I hate you. I fucking hate you.”

“You sure fuck like it.” He says, he tries to remain cool, composed, but I see the way his eyes squint, his teeth grind, and his first grabs the sheets.

I can't resist the urge, I mean he did push me against the wall hard, I take my hand off his chest and I slap him—hard. He grins at me, full toothed grin.

“Stupid slut,” He grabs the back of my hair and pulls my head back so hard I let out a guttural scream. But it isn't from pain; it's from the overwhelming wave of an orgasm washing over me like a waterfall. He comes at the same time, letting out moans and grunts, his grip on my hair eases up before he lets me go completely.

I fall on top of him, my hair sticking to my forehead from the sweat and my cheeks burning hot.

“You're a drug, Tashi Duncan.” He says.

“You're an addict.”

7 notes · View notes

thecranberriesslut · 2 months ago

Text

“No you can’t bite me” god forbid a girl has hobbies

3K notes · View notes

thecranberriesslut · 2 months ago

Text

Masterlist

@thecranberriesslut masterlist of all my original writing pieces.

Updated: 7/7/2025

CW:

🧸= Dark content 🎀= Smut 📀= Dead Dove Do Not Eat

The Last Of Us

Joel Miller:

Californication 🎀You and your best friends dad commit sin on family vacay.

Californication Pt.2 🎀You and Joel have a late night meet-cute by the pool and you get frustrated.

Californication Pt.3 🎀It's your last night of vacation and you've got only one thing on your mind, doing Joel.

Call Of Duty

Simon Riley:

Fawn and the wolf 📀💕🧸You're the smallest one on the team, and you have the compulsive need to prove yourself to Ghost... but have you chewed off more than you can swallow?

Cabin no. 5 🎀🧸You're the new recruit for task force 141, you end up having to share your cabin with your superior officer Ghost, who doesn't quite believe that you're up for this job.

Cabin no. 5, Pt.2🎀🧸 After meeting Ghost for the first time, he leaves for a mission, you can’t stop thinking about him when you’re alone but you don’t know that he feels the same way.

König:

Man Next Door 🎀🧸📀Your car breaks down in the woods at night, you try to find solace in a nearby house. You find König, and something else finds you. But is it just your imagination?

Supernatural

Sam Winchester:

sins of the soulless 🎀🧸You're staying at Sam and Dean's place, Sam has lost his soul but not his appetite.

The side not shown 🧸🎀📀 You were best friends with Sam, he was the sweetest thing, until he wasn’t… but no one else saw how he tormented you with words glazed in honey, that sliced you like a sword.

Challengers

Patrick Zweig & Tashi Duncan:

Dior Cologne 🎀📀🧸Tashi finds something that leads her to an old flame she though she'd put out. Turns out that sometimes, old flames burn the hottest.

Other

Justin Bieber & Harry Styles:

LoveGames This is the most 2013 Wattpadd ass fanfic you have ever read, it's basically you and your best friends Selena and Taylor navigating high school life with a little love triangle between you, Justin, and Harry...

15 notes · View notes

thecranberriesslut · 2 months ago

Text

LoveGames

Characters: Dawn Summers (you), Selena Gomez, Taylor Swift, Harry styles, Justin Bieber Summary: This is the most 2013 Wattpadd ass fanfic you have ever read, it's basically you and your best friends Selena and Taylor navigating high school life with a little love triangle between you, Justin, and Harry... Notes: This isn't my usual stuff but it's for @sof1stiredd who asked for something like this in the 2015 community. (Here you go babes I hope you love this lmao!) So grab a latte, put on hollister shorts and a PINK sweater and gather your long blonde hair into a messy bun because you're about to be transported into 2013. (And no, your evil stepmom didn't sell you and your ocean blue eyes to one direction in this one...)

You're Dawn Summers, a 17-year-old girl from The Valley, Los Angeles. You have ridiculously long, dirty blonde hair, and you bear a striking resemblance to Cara Delevingne—like… insane resemblance. You hear about it every single day at school, and you'd think that's the reason you're so popular, but actually, everyone likes you because you're an angel walking the halls. You're so nice to everyone, and your sense of humor can make even the most emo guy crack a laugh.

Sure, you're a little awkward. Like that one time when the hottest guy in school—Harry Styles—asked you to go to McDonald’s with him at lunch and you tripped with the food tray in your hand… oops. Or the time your two best friends, Selena Gomez and Taylor Swift, came over for a sleepover, but you'd forgotten they were coming, so you were eating a tub of Ben & Jerry’s in your most embarrassing Disney sweater and watching Bratz—yikes. It's safe to say you're not perfect, but your mom and dad sure seem to think so, and so does almost everyone at school.

The gentle hum of your new iPhone 5 getting a message wakes you up from your sleep. You flutter your eyes open to the shiny sunlight that casts your room in golden light, making your pink Victoria's Secret print wallpaper appear peachy. You pick up your phone—the fuzzy phone case feels like heaven against your freshly manicured fingers—and you notice that it's a message from Taylor, your best friend since elementary school.

"Hey babes!! I can pick you up today, mom's letting me borrow the Jeep, be ready in 10. xx -TayTay"

Your eyes shoot open in panic.

Ten minutes!? How will I ever get ready in ten minutes?! you think, panicking. You fight your way out of your fluffy teal sheets and almost fall over trying to get your slippers on. You throw on a light pink, very soft bathrobe over your oversized band tee and toss your dirty blonde hair into a messy bun.

You barely make it to the bathroom when you hear your computer chime. You run back to check it and see it's an AOL message from Justin. You almost trip over nothing in shock as you stare at the screen.

"Hey Dawn, jus wondering if u wanna go 2 the skate park with me during free period? Ttyl. -Justin."

Justin Bieber. Not counting Harry, he's the absolute hottest guy in your school… with his gorgeous brown hair and hazel eyes, he looks so dreamy. And he skates. But he's also best friends with Harry, and you have a tiny crush on Harry. Selena swears she overheard them talking about you one time, but you think she was just trying to be nice. She did tell you that the exact day you failed your driver's test…

You have no idea what to answer to Justin’s message… You check the time—five minutes?!?

In a panic, you throw on a pair of American Eagle skinny jeans and a Hollister top. You struggle to get your Isabel Marant sneaker heels on but manage just before falling right on your butt. You run to the bathroom, brush your teeth, spritz on a couple sprays of VS body spray (Love Spell), and coat your full lips in Baby Lips chapstick. You take one last look in the mirror before grabbing your light blue Longchamp bag off the floor and running downstairs.

"Hey darling, got time for a bagel and some coffee?" your mom yells from the kitchen. You have the most amazing family—your mom makes sure you eat breakfast every day, and she makes it so yummy you wouldn't even think about saying no. Your dad is the best; he takes you to dinner, you play Guitar Hero together, and he just got you a skateboard for your birthday.

"I'm so late! Taylor's gonna be here any minute!" you yell from the foyer.

Your mom comes out with two Starbucks coffees and hands them to you.

"I had a feeling someone was picking you up. Say hi to Taylor for me." Your mom laughs, and you thank her for the coffee before heading out into the hot sunshine.

Outside, Taylor sits in the driver’s seat of a cool white Jeep, 5SOS playing on the stereo, her straight blonde hair and white T-shirt flowing in the wind with the skylight and windows open. You run up to the car and get in the front seat, flinging your bag into the back.

"Oh my goodness, girl, why do you look actually amazing?" she asks with a big smile as she takes the other coffee.

"Stop it! I literally woke up just when you texted me. I had no time to get ready," you laugh.

After a short drive, Taylor’s trying to park straight in the school parking lot, and you're looking around for Selena. Not a moment later, she rolls in with her red Mustang, her dark brown hair in loose, messy curls, wearing a band tee and low-waisted jeans with Uggs. You wave at her, and she flashes you the biggest smile you've ever seen. The golden feather tied in her hair reflects the sun beautifully.

You get out of the car with Taylor and notice her incredible jeans. They're low-waisted and flared Miss Me jeans with rhinestones all over the backside.

"TayTay, those jeans are gorge!" you yell out.

"I just bought these yesterday. Aren’t they the cutest thing ever??" Her voice drips with excitement.

"Your ass looks amazing, I know that for sure," says Selena, who walks behind Taylor and gives her a quick hug.

Taylor and Selena are your angels. You've known Taylor since elementary school, and you became a trio in middle school when Selena moved to L.A. from Oregon. Taylor's so nice but can really hold her ground when needed—she often protects you when Chloe or Jennifer start getting on your case. Chloe and Jennifer are, together, the embodiment of evil. They're so mean—and for no reason. Well... Chloe might have a crush on Justin, and Jennifer happens to be borderline in love with Harry. They get extra mean when either of the guys show you any attention. But you're just friends with them... even if you think they're kind of yummy-looking.

Selena is so cool—she’s like if Megan Fox and Dove Cameron had a lovechild. She can seem kind of terrifying; she’s that cool kind of gorgeous. But once you get to know her, she’s just the sweetest and funniest person ever. Her sarcasm does get her into trouble, though.

"Do we all have P.E. first period?" you ask, trying to check if you remembered your exercise clothes.

"Ugh, yeah, with Mr. Smith. He's such a hardass. You know he made me run five miles with a sprained ankle," Selena groans.

"You fell into a foam pit. If anything, you had a tiny bruise on your ankle," Taylor chimes in. Selena grins a toothy smile.

"Still, it hurt!"

Before Taylor can protest, you see Justin out of the corner of your eye, and he’s walking toward you.

"Omg, that's Justin. He's coming here!" you try to scream-whisper.

"He's so going to ask you out, Dawn!" Taylor says, looking at him with sparkles in her eyes.

"Well, he kinda di—" you manage to say before Selena elbows you in the side to signal that he's here.

You turn to look at him and—gosh—does he look amazing. His hair is slicked back, and he's wearing jeans, a white shirt, and a cool leather jacket. His skateboard is in his hand.

"Hey, Dawn," he says, smiling.

"Oh hey, Justin!" you say, trying to sound like you don’t really care.

"Did you get my message this morning?" he asks. His puppy eyes look irresistible.

Taylor and Selena almost scream upon hearing about his message, but you kick Selena in the shin before she can open her mouth.

"Yeah… I'm sorry, I was so busy this morning. What did it say again?" you ask. You remember exactly what the message said—you remember every word, every syllable—but you want Taylor and Selena to hear him say it.

"Oh, I was just wondering if you wanted to go skate during free period. I mean, I heard you got a skateboard for your birthday."

"Uhm..." You almost can't get the words out. He is so hot, and he’s never spoken to you this much—he’s more of a friend of a friend.

"She would love to," says Taylor from behind you. Justin turns to look at her and then back at you. You just nod enthusiastically.

"Okay then, see you after lunch."

P.E. is boring. Like, seriously bland. Mr. Smith is making you run five laps before you can play field hockey. Your hair is sticking to your neck, so you decide to throw your T-shirt off and run in your sports bra. It's from PINK and has pastel blue and yellow stripes all over—it’s adorable.

"I can't hang out with Justin. What if you-know-who sees us and starts to hate me?" you say, panting from the heat.

"Oh come on! Who said you couldn't hang out with two boys? As friends, of course," Taylor points out, running beside you.

"Or not as friends…" Selena laughs. She still looks perfect in this heat. Her eyeliner is perfectly drawn, and she smells like sexy roses. Taylor doesn’t look so great—she still looks beautiful, but her hair is almost wet from sweat. You jokingly laugh at her unathleticism. She smells like clouds and clean laundry.

After P.E., you're at your locker getting your math books when you notice Harry walking toward you. He’s got on shorts and a button-up with the cutest scarf. You blush at the sight of him.

"Hey, there’s my favorite girl!" he yells, holding his arms out for a hug. You hug him and laugh.

"Hey Harry! Careful—Jennifer’s gonna think we’re together, haha!" you joke.

"Well… I wouldn’t mind her thinking that, would you?" he says. You almost choke on nothing.

"What? As in, you want us to be together?" you ask.

"I’m just joking... unless?" He pulls you in, his big hand on your lower back, his gorgeous blue eyes locking onto your green ones. He looks like a painting. He presses his soft pink lips against yours—he tastes like coffee and mint chapstick. You're so caught off guard, you almost don't notice Justin looking at you from across the hall with the saddest expression. But you catch him just before he turns around and leaves the school.

You pull away from Harry, as hard as it is—it feels like you’re being pulled together by magnets—but you like Justin too. It’s all so confusing.

"I’m sorry… I gotta go," you say before running after Justin.

You catch him before he gets in his car. You grab him by the wrist and look up at him. He looks so hurt.

"Justin..." you say, trying to explain.

"What? Now you like me? Or do you like Harry... who happens to be my best friend!" he says. He sounds angry and sad at the same time.

"I—I’m not sure I—" you start, but you see something switch in his eyes as he closes the car door and looks at the school. He begins walking back in with determination… you’re afraid you know where this is going.

He storms inside the school and heads straight to Harry. People in the halls are staring at him, and you, running behind. He turns Harry around by the shoulder and you close your eyes.

"You know I like her!!" he yells at Harry.

Harry lifts his hands in the air and laughs.

"You like her?! Well then tell me her favorite color. Tell me what perfume she uses. Tell me her dog’s name!" Harry yells.

Justin looks baffled, hurt, and defeated.

"I don’t know those things. You know why?"

"Why?" Harry shoots back.

"Because you never gave me the chance to get to know her. You have Jennifer—she’s in love with you... Why take Dawn?!"

"Because Dawn is the coolest girl I’ve ever met. And also the best kisser..." Harry shouts. He knows it's a low shot, but he can’t help it.

You barely have time to register what’s happening before you hear Justin’s fist fly at Harry—and Harry falls against the locker.

"I love her!"

18 notes · View notes

thecranberriesslut · 2 months ago

Text

#studying #studying aesthetic #spencer hastings #spencer hastings aesthetic #rory gilmore #rory gilmore aesthetic #girlblogging #lana del rey #aesthetic #poetry #manic pixie dream girl #smart girl #smart girl aesthetic #ivy league #smartypants #smarty lana del rey #girly things #just girly thoughts

5 notes · View notes

thecranberriesslut · 2 months ago

Text

sins of the soulless

Summary: You're staying at Sam and Dean's place, Sam has lost his soul but not his appetite. pairing: Soulless!Sam Winchester x reader info: So I wrote this partly because your girl is thirstayyy and also in preperation for ap english finals whoops, so I didn't put this through any grammar checkers or proofreaders, if you feel like it, point out some mistakes I made, it would really really help me... okay thanks enjoy this very short blurb, xoxo warnings: a little bit of cannibalistic desires (what can I say I'm horny and weird), dubcon, dark, dead dove do not eat, shitty writing, probably grammar errors, biting, smut, mean sam winchester

The sins of tender flesh, sinking sharp teeth into soft, sensitive skin, and seeing physical proof of sinful desire...

Before Sam Winchester lost his soul and became damned, he never had any tendencies other than vanilla in the bedroom. But after losing his soul; bodies, flesh, the rawness of human essence, was all that he had left. Unfortunately, he made this very known to you, the poor inexperienced hunter, that had been permitted to stay with the Winchesters while you were hunting the same miserable demon as them.

The wind blew into your room from the slightly agape old window, it sounded like muted screaming, how it found it's way through the tiny crack that seperated your warm room from the ruthless cold climate of North America. You went to close the window, and through a stern push and the whine of old hinges, it shut with a bang, you sighed a breath of relief upon the silence settling in your lonely attic room.

You didn't particularly want to move in with a hunter who had no soul and had multiple weapons handy at every given moment, but after your father threw you out for becoming a hunter against his will, you had no place to stay, and you thought that at least it was better to maybe be killed during the night by a soulless hunter, than to definetly be killed outside by a heartless demon. Also you didn't mind the look of Sam, (or Dean for that matter), they were very handsome men, just bordering on completely terrifying. It didn't help that Sam had this unorthodox habit of wandering around the house, silent like a spirit, and he would often find his way to your room, without as much as a crack of a floorboard underneath his large figure.

You moved aside the ragged old curtain with your hand and gazed outside, the forest surrounding the house stood still and quiet in the darkness, slightly illuminated by the moon, and light coming from the house. Behind you, on your nightstand, there was a scented candle, Dean had dug it out of a cupboard and given it to you when you graciously complained that your room had no working lights. It smelled of vanilla and pumpkin, and you had a sneaky suspicion that it didn't belong to the boys, but rather to some poor soul who lived in this house before they found it, abandoned.

Suddenly, the light around you flickered, not in the small way that candle light tends to flicker, but in a grand wave of air, like someone had just walked in... you turned around slowly, and much to your horror, there stood Sam, silently observing you, not even two feet away from you. He was wearing red pyjama pants and a loose white T-shirt, his hair looked disheveled and he was in need of a shave.

"Jesus, fuck you scared me!" You yelled, holding your hand to your chest dramatically.

"Oh, sorry... the 'losing your soul' thing really makes one forget about what scares others." He said, not much emotion evident in either his voice or his facial expression.

"So uhm, what are you doing here, just wandering around?" You asked.

"No actually, I wanted to talk to you about something." He replied, taking a slow, calculated step towards you.

"Huh, talk to me about what?"

"See now that I'm here, I think I forgot." He stated, taking yet another step closer. You found it terrifying how he moved without making a peep, made you feel on edge, twitchy.

You stepped back too, instinctively, but soon found your back touching the wooden windowsill. You considered yelling out for Dean, but quickly remembered that he was going to be out late, hunting. Anything particularly scary hadn't even happened yet, and here you were, planning escape routes, going over every possible scenario, every one of them ending with you either dead or soon-to-be dead on your slightly moldy bedroom floor.

"Listen... I'm really tired and-" You began, but before you could finish your sentence, Sam's hand was on your wrist, and his body stood uncomfortably close to yours. You could feel the heat of him through the thin material of your sleep shirt.

You tried asking him what he was doing but he locked his emotionless eyes to yours, and cocked his head in a way that almost challenged you to speak, you remained silent.

"What do you feel right now?" He asked, nonchalant, emotionless.

"Excuse me?" You replied, you soon realised that this was the wrong answer, as his grip tightened on your slender wrist, bordering on painful.

"Just answer the question."

You looked up at him with wide eyes; he stood about a head taller than you and this close, you had to turn your neck with effort to look into his eyes.

"I'm scared, I guess... confused." You finally said. Vocalizing your feelings made your cheeks turn an embarrasing shade of crimson, you also felt hot, so hot, now regretting closing that window.

"Do you like feeling scared?" He asked, his voice now deeper, more satiny, he was trying to get a rise out of you.

"I- I don't know." That was a lie, you did like it... in some fucked up way it made you feel similar to the way you felt when you scrolled through nude magazines, physically hot, elevated heart rate, you even felt it in your lower stomach, exact same spot.

"Why are you lying to me?"

"I'm not."

He wasn't pleased with your answer, you could see the moment his eyes turned from emotionless to, hungry. Not a second after, his body was pressing yours against the wall, his hand found your hair and he brushed it away from your heated cheeks.

"I wish I could feel scared, really, the only thing I feel these days is horny, maybe 'cause that's not really a feeling, more of an urge..." He said matter-of-factly, you didn't reply, you couldn't, your attention was on his eyes and the way his big hands roamed around your hips, tickling you unintentionally. You almost jumped when his hand found the impossibly ticklish part right above your hip bone, but his other hand held you in place, rather roughly.

"Stop squirming." He said.

"Sorry... I'm just a little confused I mean-" He cut you off.

"There's no need to be confused, I just wanna have a little bit of fun, and I know you do too. See I'm not stupid, I see the way you look at me, I see the way your thighs clench when I talk to Dean about being with girls..."

You tried to protest, but nothing would come out, he was right, in addition to being scared of him, you were so painfully intrigued by him, and his body didn't help, what with him hanging around the house shirtless.

Suddenly, his lips were on your neck, it felt heavenly. He planted soft, tender kisses along the nape of your neck until... he bit down, hard. You let out a yelp, but his free hand travelled to your mouth, keeping you quiet.

"What's wrong, baby? You can't take the slightest bit of pain, you can't be that weak." His voice soft like syrup against your ear; he was taunting you, and to your horror, that just made you wetter. How incredibly pathetic were you that his torture made you crave him more, his touch was like a drug, and from that first hit... you were hooked. You let out a whine in protest, but that quickly turned into a soft moan as he continued to softly suck the most sensitive part of your neck.

"See that... that just makes me wanna hurt you more, those fucking sounds, you're practically begging for it." He said against your neck.

"Please," you started, your voice breathy and desperate.

"Please... don't hurt you? Please make you feel good? What is it kid, use your words." You could hear the smirk that laid on his lip as he spoke. As you tried to gather your thoughts to possibly form a coherent sentence, you felt his sharp teeth dragging along your pulse point, so exposed, so vulnerable.

"I could just eat you right up, just bite down hard on your neck... what the fuck could you do to stop me, you can barely think."

The serious tone in his voice made you shiver, and the heaviness of the situation began to settle like a morning mist, he was stronger than you, virtually a psycopath, and you hadn't even tried to save yourself when you had the chance. You began to squirm in his tight grip but he wouldn't budge.

"That get you all scared, huh? Don't want me sinking my teeth deep into your pure flesh?" He asked, almost laughing.

"No, please..." Your voice came out shaky, tears were threatening to escape your eyes.

"Calm down, just joking with you, what's the fun in catching prey if you're not gonna play with it first?"

52 notes · View notes