with-every-piece-of-me

[with-every-piece-of-me]

Sweetheart; Tate Langdon x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Tate Langdon x fem!Reader

Summary: You come home after a weekend away and Tate's so glad you're back. 

Warnings: Sub!Tate, Dom!Fem!Reader, grinding but no actual penetration, one use of the word "mommy", kind of a handjob but not really (?), let me know if I missed anything! :)

Words: 1.6K

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You stumble up the stairs of the house, you haven't been home for the past couple of days, you missed Tate, sure, but you wanted to stay over at a friend's house for a sleepover. You adore Tate, but you also want a social life, even if Tate disagrees with that.

You sigh softly as you stand in the doorframe, the door is ajar and you can see into the room partially. You see the blanket hastily hanging off the side of the bed, it's flat on the bed then there is a rise under the blankets, and you can see someone is lying on your bed. The figure isn't moving, implying they're asleep but you know a stranger isn't gonna just break into your house to take a little nap, you already know who it is.

"Tate....?"

You call out softly, your voice comes out almost no louder than a whisper but you can tell he heard based on his slight movement, his supposedly sleeping figure shifts slightly under the blankets. You know he isn't asleep, why would a ghost need to sleep?

You walk up to the bed, and place your hand on the left side. Tate's lying silently on his side, he won't turn around to look at you.

"Tate?"

You call out again, this time a bit louder and clearer. You're met with Tate turning around to look up at you, his eyes are watery and red, and he has tears rolling down his cheeks slowly, covering the previous and now slightly dry tear stains. His cheeks and nose are rosy and red, your heart breaks slightly at the sight.

"Oh, sweetie..."

Tate leans into your touch as you reach out and graze his cheek softly with the pads of your fingers while you try to talk to him despite his deviated state.

"You were gone for so long... I was worried you had left me."

The boy stammers to the end of his sentence as he pulls himself up so he can sit. Tate looks up at you in sadness with a glint of relief in his eyes. Relief that you haven't left him, relief that you came back, back to him.

"I would never leave you, Tate... You know that."

You reply with a small but reassuring smile. You slowly sit on top of the blanket on your bed, Tate completely shifts his body over to face you. He reaches his hand out to grasp your own lightly.

"Stay here, in bed."

Tate requests as he stares up at you with a glimmer of hope plastered on his face, his doe eyes staring up at you – you chuckle under your breath.

"But, I have to unpack." 

You tease as you pull your hand away slightly and try to hide your slight smile, finding his desperation strangely endearing.

"No-! Stay..."

Tate demands as he pulls your hand back, his grasp on your hand is tight but not to the point of pain. His voice was laced with desperation. He looks up at you, his eyes glossing over.

"Of course."

You smile lovingly as you place your free hand on the side of his face, you lean forward to place a kiss on his forehead gently.

As you pull away Tate stares at you lovingly. He smiles as he places his hand on your hip, he slowly moves his hand under your shirt and rests his hand on the skin of your waist, tracing light shapes with his fingertips.

You place your hand behind his neck to pull him into a soft kiss, and in an instant, he kisses back in a needy manner. You move your hand up his neck and into his hair.

Tate gasps softly as his hand grips your waist and you tug on his soft, curly hair gently. You let go of his hair and pull away from the kiss, Tate looks at you in confusion and eagerness.

You place your hand on his shoulder to push him from lying on his side to lying on his back. you kneel on the bed and move yourself to straddle his waist, Tate stares up at me with a small smile on his face. you slowly pull his shirt up and off, you lean forward to kiss him quickly before pulling away and peppering kisses from his jaw, down to his collarbone, your lipstick leaves small but noticeable stains on his skin. The kisses and marks you leave are met with small whines and groans from the man below me.

"I'm sorry I was gone for so long, sweetheart..."

you whisper as Tate props himself up on his elbows, his curly blonde hair now somewhat disheveled.

"Then show me how sorry you are."

Tate states, a smirk plastered on his face, you chuckle softly at his request.

"Oh, don't get cocky now. I might not."

you state as you put your hand on his chest and push him back down, his head hitting the soft pillows.

you trace your nails lightly down his torso, goosebumps quickly following your trail. Tate's breath comes out shakily and unsteady.

"...please..."

Tate breathes out, barely above a whisper. you look down at him and smile sadistically.

"What did you say, dear? I couldn't hear it."

you grin as you draw a slow line from his stomach to the waistline of his pants with your fingertips, earning a groan from the man below me.

When he doesn't answer and instead just whines in response you hook two of your fingers on the waistband of his pants, pulling them back ever so slightly but only to snap the waistband against his waist as Tate gasps in response.

"Sweetheart, I can't give you what you want unless you ask."

you tease as you feel his muscles tense. Tate stares up at me with doe eyes as he's acting as though he has too much pride to beg for what he wants, but you know him better than to believe that, he just wants me to give him what he wants without him having to do anything.

you move down from his waist to be straddling his hips as he stares up at me with a hopeful gaze, you would've thought he wouldn't be so naïve to think I'd just fuck him without him following a simple order.

you lean in closer, your lips only a few inches away from Tate's, so close yet so far. Just as it seems as though I'm about to kiss him you move your face away from his and instead begin kissing and biting his neck gently, leaving a trail of marks and hickeys on his neck to his jaw.

As you do so the man beneath me lets out sighs and breaths of relief as I'm finally giving him at least part of what he wants.

you smirk slightly as you get an idea, you begin gently grinding your hips against his, giving him the bare minimum friction you can as there are still layers of clothing between the two of us.

you grind your hips against his agonizingly slow as he begins letting out chocked-out whimpers, you can feel the vibrations from the noises he makes in his throat as you continue trailing kisses along his soft skin.

However, Tate's been so needy all weekend, practically destroyed at the fact that you've been away for a few days and now that he finally has you, you barely give him any friction, how cruel.

Tate whines pathetically as he tries to buck his hips up against yours needily, desperate for just a little more friction to relieve himself of the want he's had for you all weekend when he hasn't been able to do anything about it. It's almost cute, how much he aches for your touch.

You sigh as you move your hips up, just out of reach of his body, rendering his desperate movements useless as you've completely taken away any friction he's had due to him being too needy for more. Tate's desperate pleas for you to give him just a bit more only fall upon deaf ears as you have no intention of giving him anything just yet.

Tate groans softly as you run your hands down his waist, resting your left hand on his hip while your right hand slowly makes its way into his pants, tracing gentle, slow circles around the tip of his already hard cock, causing the man to moan before biting his lip to try and keep quiet. God, it's so easy to get him riled up for you.

He moans and whimpers while trying to stop himself from rutting against your hand as his hands grip the bedsheets to try and keep at least a little bit of control over his body.

"What's wrong, baby?"

You ask in a teasing and sadistic tone as you continue to tease his tip while kissing and biting his neck tenderly. Your words only cause mumbling pleas to fall from Tate's mouth, although they're all too mumbled and rushed to fully hear what he's begging for in specifics.

"I need to go unpack."

Interrupting his begging while you move your hand out of his pants, moving to be sitting up with your knees on either side of his hips, you're so close to him but too far away for him to touch you the way he so badly wants to.

Just as you're about to get up you feel Tate's hands gripping your thighs, pulling you back down onto him as you're now sitting on his lap straddling his hips once again, you can feel how hard.

Tate looks up at you with teary puppy eyes as he bats his lashes, his cheeks still have a pink tint to them.

"Please, mommy... Touch me?"

(I've been in a creative rut lately, and this has been in my drafts for months now, and even though I hate it I decided to edit and post it, sorry its not that good. I might to a PT2 but Idk yet <3)

[with-every-piece-of-me]

Thinking about fucking a priest when he's wearing a nuns habit. As he clutches a rosary so hard it leaves marks on his hands.

[with-every-piece-of-me]

John Pruitt x reader

Warnings: Nsfw, but no directly explicit words used, swearing and mention of blood :)

Words: 174

(Promp: Pouring the mixture of wine and blood John keeps for mass down his throat while riding him. <3)

"H-holy shit" John gasps, his eyes closing, and his head falling forward due to my pace. I smile, my breath unsteady. I reach over and pick the glass bottle John had left on the side table earlier with shaky hands.

"Look at me." I state as John lifts his head to meet my gaze. My right hand lifts from his shoulder to grip his jaw, pushing his head back. "Open." I demand as he does so wordlessly. I hold the bottle over his head and pour the mixture of blood and wine down his throat, spilling some of it. I move the glass bottle from his mouth to my own, letting go of his jaw and downing what was left, the taste of wine mixed with the copper like taste of blood coats the inside of my mouth.

John looks up at me, trying to catch his breath as his chest heaves, his eyes filled with adoration, his hair a wreck, his face stained with the wine that i spilt running down his chin.

[with-every-piece-of-me]

what if I hypothetically wrote a short imagine of pouring a mixture of blood and wine down Johns throat while riding him

[with-every-piece-of-me]

Pairing: John Pruitt x fem!reader

Summary: Just plotless smut.

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, sub!John, top!reader, misuse of holy objects(choking with a rosary, M receiving.), hair pulling(M receiving.), Handjob(M receiving).

Words: 613

God, John looked so beautiful like this – tears rolling down his cheeks, his dark hair sticking to his forehead due to sweat, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes unfocused. I'd been edging him all night but he was still staring up at me as if I was his saviour, or his own personal angel. He looks completely destroyed.

I smile down at him almost sadistically. My right hand jerking him off painfully slow, my left hand has the rosary he's wearing wrapped around my fist. I tug on the rosary so it tightens around his neck as I move my right hand faster, John lets out a low groan as his hips buck up into my hand involuntarily as a gut reaction. He begins muttering out quiet prayers.

I chuckle breathlessly, as I lean closer to him. "That's not going to do anything, my love." I whisper a I kiss his neck, leaving small bite marks that would be covered by his usual attire anyway, earning quiet whimpers from the man beneath me. I pick up the pace with my right hand, peppering kisses from his neck to along his jaw. I let go of the rosary and run my hand down his chest, dragging my nails over his skin lightly, goosebumps follow my trail.

I lean in to kiss him and he kisses back, sloppily, hungrily. My free hand reaches up to his hair, giving it a sharp tug. A loud but almost gutteral moan leaves John's mouth, his hand quickly covers his mouth. "What's wrong, John, afraid of what the people will think of you once they realize what their beloved priest does behind closed doors?" I tease, whispering in his ear as John whines, his jaw clenched to try and be quiet.

I return to kissing his neck, this time in a place he can't hide with his clerical collar, just bellow his jaw. I continue to pull on John's hair, stroking him at an almost cruelly slow pace. I can tell he's close based on the little noises he makes and the quiet pleads he mutters under his breath. I pick up the pace once again, John's breath hitches and his hands grip at the blankets on the bed.

"F-fuck, don't s-stop... I-I'm close." John sobs out trying his best to form sentences in his clouded mind state. I chuckle lowly, a grin plastered on my face. "Do you deserve to, John? Do you think you've been good?" I whisper, my voice honeyed. John nods eagerly, my facial expression bitters, displeased with his answer. I give his hair another tug but this time a little harder. "Speak." I demand coldly, not loosening my grip on his hair. "Yes- I-I've been good.. s-so good for you, I s-swear." John chokes out, I smile at his words. "Good boy." I praise, he lets out a breathy moan due to the praise.

"Please 'm so c-close... f-fuck.. a-ah please, please, p-please I wanna-" John whimpers mindlessly, "Go ahead, sweetheart." I coo sweetly as John frantically mumbles out thank you's as he cums, most of it ending up on my stomach but a little ending up on his lower stomach.

"You did so well..." I praise him again moving my hand from his hair to cup the side of his face, he smiles somewhat tiredly as he plants a kiss on the palm of my hand. I let go of him to get up and lay next to him in bed, wrapping my arms around him as he moves closer to me, seeking the warmth of my arms. "I love you." He grumbled, his voice hoarse. "Love you too." I reply.

(This is literally my first time writing smut so I'm sorry its so terrible.)

Reblogs appreciated!:)

[with-every-piece-of-me]

The hand that I can hold

Pairing: Luke Crain x Fem!Reader

Summary: After Nell's death you find him before the others do, Steven told you the news so you had to break it to Luke and he took it like a hammer to the eye.

Warnings: Mentions of drug use, swearing, angst, mentions of death/suicide.

Words: 1.5k

Y/n POV.

My world felt like it was shattered, yet I didn't cry for a good minute. I was too shocked – too sad to move, let alone cry. Everything had just stopped, but then it all came crashing when Steven's words had really hit me. Nell was dead. My best friend, gone.

It felt like my heart was collapsing in on itself, but at the same time tearing itself apart. I felt like someone had kicked me directly in the chest, as if any oxygen in my lungs was ripped out.

That's when Steve had told me how she had died, she had hung herself. It only got worse and worse the more I thought about it. Then I realized, Luke doesn't know. I mean how could he, he had broken out of rehab the morning after she passed, Shirley had told me. There's no way he could know. I try to pull myself together as much as I can to even attempt to say anything.

"Stevie… Does Luke know?"

I question with a shaky voice, only met with silence from Steven as if he had forgotten to consider the fact that Luke would be more affected than most of us. I hear a heavy hearted sigh from the phone.

"Fuck… No. No, he doesn't. I don't even know where he is or how to reach him."

Steve explains, I nod, tears swelling in my eyes. I know where he'd be, well I can take a pretty damn good guess. Luke's rehab was closest to my place so I decide I need to be the one to find him since I know Steve isn't living as close anymore.

"I'll go get him. You're probably too far to find him in time, if he has.. y'know.. I could probably find him before it get's too bad."

I hear Steven sigh again, he knows it would be better for me to find him. I start looking for my purse and my car keys, staying on the call with Steve as I don't want to feel alone right now and I can tell he doesn't either.

"That means you'll have to be the one to tell him…"

Steve explains, I let out a shaky and nervous sigh, processing that he's right, I can't just tiptoe around the fact that his twin sister had just hung herself in the same house his mother had also died at her own hands in.

"If he hasn't relapsed, which I seriously doubt, this might push him to it. So just.. don't let him out of your sight and stay safe."

Steve stammers to the end of his sentence, realizing what he had done by giving Luke money, possibly helping him indulge in his vices on purpose.

"I'll be as safe as I can be and yeah, I'll watch him for a while, he can stay at my place so don't worry."

I attempt to reassure Steve but I'm also extremely worried and it shows in my tone so I doubt it helped much. As much as I don't want to, I hang up and get into my car.

After maybe twenty minutes of searching I find Luke. He's pacing up and down the sidewalk, mumbling as he's counting on his fingers repetitively, he's scared. He looks worse for wear, he's battered and bruised, he's clearly not okay.

"Luke..?"

I call out, catching his attention, his focus snaps towards me. I quickly get out of my car and walk up to him, he continues to mumble under his breath.

"I couldn't save her. I… I couldn't save her. I'm so sorry.."

He sobs as I pull him into a hug, his voice quiet but raspy. He hugs be back tightly, after a few seconds I let him go and he stares at me, waiting for me to speak, waiting for some kind of lecture because he broke out of rehab but I wasn't angry right now.

"You're clean right now, right?"

I ask in caution as his eyes widen slightly, realizing how he must look right now. He thinks about what he should say right now, looking for the easiest way to explain or to make me worry less.

"N.. no, I'm ninety days clean.. I swear… I.. I swear. Ninety days free, remember?"

He stuttered to the end of his sentence with a sense of urgency in a hope that I wasn't already disappointed. He's actually clean, which you wouldn't be able to tell based on how he looks right now but even though he's more himself there's still something wrong, he's shivering and incredibly uneasy.

"Luke, are you okay?"

I question out of pure concern, knowing that it's a loaded question when it comes to him. I place my hand on his shoulder and he stares down at the ground, trying to organize his thoughts. You don't just break out of rehab for no reason only to end up pacing in the streets with no shoes and looking like you were hit a bus or two. He says nothing, he reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, he must've got pretty hurt last night.

"I-I'm freezing cold, my body feels so stiff and my neck hurts like a bitch… It feels like really awful withdrawals but so much worse and I'm clean. I swear I didn't do anything last night… I swear."

Luke stammered as he leaned in a bit closer so I could hear him fully, I need to tell him about Nellie. I suck in a cold yet heavy breath, mentally preparing myself for what's about to happen. I don't know if I can do it without breaking down myself.

"Luke… It's Nellie, she's… She's. Uh.."

I struggle out the words but I can't get myself to say it, there's something inside of me deeply wanting it to not be real, for this just to be some vivid nightmare that I'll wake from, and Nell will be back at her house, sleeping peacefully and perfectly fine when I wake up – but it isn't a dream, I can't just wake up and everything will be okay, I can't just wake up from what feels like an endless nightmare because I'm not asleep, no matter now much I desperately want this all to be a dream… It's real and I can't just ignore it. Luke needs to know.

"She's… Dead. Nell died last night."

I cry as Luke freezes up, tears roll down his cheeks, he looks like he's completely crumbling.

"What…?"

He chokes up, unable to say anything else. Doing this felt worse than I thought it would, it didn't tug at my heartstrings, it ripped them out stomped on them. He stares at me as if I'm about to tell him it's just some sick joke, I wish I could, for his sake, but I just can't.

"Can you just please get in the car, I think you should stay with me until the funeral. We can talk about it more when we get to my place."

I stare down at the floor, unable to to look him in the eyes. He nods slowly as I open the car door for him. He gets into the car, still counting on his fingers but this time more agitated, more frightened.

We get back to my place after a while of sitting in a depressive silence in the car, neither of us felt like there was much we could say through minds clouded with tragedy.

He walks into the guest room and just sits on the edge of the bed unmoving. He sits, slouched forward with his head in his hands as he sobs quietly.

I walk up to the door and knock a few times. The knocks echo through the mostly silent house, aside from the faint sound of Luke in mourning.

"…come in."

Luke responds as I open the door and walk up the bed. I sit next to him, placing my hand on his shoulder. He stares back at me, while I try to find any words in the mess that is currently my mind to try and help him, to comfort him.

"I'm not gonna lie to you and say everything is okay, because it's really not… But… I'm here for you. I don't know how to make the pain all just go away but what I do know how to do is listen and offer any comfort I can give. We don't need to talk about it right now but when you're ready I'll be here."

I sympathize, my voice brittle and low as Luke gazes at me as he, tears still flowing down his face. A quiet thank you is all Luke's able to say in the moment, his voice remains hoarse.

"Do you mind if I sit here for a while?.. I don't really want to be alone right now."

I request, as Luke sits up and rests his head on my shoulder, his hand resting on my knee.

"Me neither."