Tsalyani - Hello!

It was the first time my shrieking drew someone closer to me. I saw it in the corner of the mirror. A shuffling amongst the shower curtains, grey pyjamas it looked like. They reminded me of something horrible. Black hair, fair skin. A young boy. It was like the mirror wanted to stab my eyes with the worst memories.

Except, I didn’t have eyes.

If my shrieking wasn’t going to do it, I thought my visage would. I turned slowly, revealing each rip, tear, cut, and pustule on my pallid skin. My fingers would look especially long, like the claws of some horrid roc. Their nails would be long and sharp enough to break flesh to the bone. And my teeth—when I flash my smile, my teeth would do all the talking.

But the boy had little reaction other than a slight shaking of his arms and legs. His eyes—oh what eyes he had—stared wide open at me. He was frozen, as if he had been trapped under an ice-skinned lake. His parents had chosen the wrong house to move into.

I began laughing. There was nothing funny. But I laughed, because laughter is a weapon—it’s a devastating lance that strikes straight into the gullet. Your breath escapes, you stare at the teeth and the creases on the face, and the deepened eyebrows, and the eyeless sockets of a skull with a dead woman’s flesh.

His eyes settled, and his arms and legs stopped shaking. He shoved his hands into his pyjama’s pockets.

I reached out my hand, and the boy did not so much as flinch when I touched my cold, clammy hands to his cheek. Instead, he raised his own hand and touched mine. He closed his eyes, and he let me run my hands over his head, over and through his hair, rubbing his eyebrows, feeling his tiny little ears.

“It’s not you, is it?” I asked. My first words in eighty years.

The boy opened his eyes, felt the scales and cuts on my arm, all the horrible marks of a thing too dead to be beautiful. He came closer, closer than any living thing ever had.

Then, for the first time since I died, I felt warmth. It was in the chest, or what should be the chest, if it wasn’t cleft in half to reveal rotten and diseased insides.

The boy lay his head against my chest and wrapped his arms around me.

“It can’t be you,” I said. “How could they let you come back? How could they make you come back? After all that they did to you?”

“I came back on my own,” the boy said. His voice echoed through my corpse.

“Why would you?” I asked. “Don’t you know what they did to you?”

“I know,” the boy said. “And I also know what you did for me, when no one else would.”

Another kind of warmth—this time on my face, sliding and streaming down my eye sockets, wetting my cheeks.

“You shouldn’t have come,” I said. My voice was breaking. “You don’t want to end up like me.”

The boy hugged me tighter. “I would rather be you than anyone else.”

Churches got a whole new appeal

Sanctuary

Pairing: Robert Pronge x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2,265 Summary: You weren't seeking refuge because you almost died, you were seeking refuge because of him.

Warnings: AU. Explicit language. Explicit sexual content. Demon!Robert. Soft!dark elements. Paranormal elements. Dub con. Sex in a church. Vaginal fingering. Telepathy. Unprotected sex. Lots of cum, sorry not sorry lol.

A/N: I want to try to get out some spooky/supernatural fics this month, so let's start by revisiting Deal with the Devil!Freezy, shall we?

You were never much for religion, but after your attack, and the way you had almost died, you found yourself sitting in the small, dimly lit church on the end of a rundown city block within walking distance of your apartment quite frequently.  

It wasn't some kind of subsequent faith that you now had after you survived that led you here, it was because you had survived, and the way in which you did.

It was because of him.

The stranger who had saved your life. 

You remembered the satisfaction in his dark, inhuman gaze as he had tasted your blood before drinking from your lips.

You remembered the unnatural flavor of sulfur that had lingered in your mouth for days after the kiss.

And you couldn't seem to escape the way he kept appearing in your dreams, reminding you that you were his now, that you owed him.

You weren't sure what that debt could possibly be or lead to, but you were certain that you didn't want to find out.

So you weren't paying homage to a miracle whenever you came to church, you were a terrified survivor seeking refuge.

Tonight was no different as you sat a few pews back from the church altar, tugging at the gold cross pendant around your neck as you stared off into the distance without seeing, enjoying a few moments of quiet, solitary sanctuary.

And then he spoke from behind you.

"If you were hoping you could hide from me here, sweetness, sorry to burst your bubble."

His voice was rough–almost ragged somehow–the gravelly sound making all your hair stand on end as you went rigid in your seat.

He leaned forward, his breath warming the nape of your neck before he suddenly snuffled along your skin, his nose dragging up the arc of your throat until he was inhaling along the delicate hollow just behind your ear, making you whimper.

You went to launch yourself from your seat, but one heavy hand of his on your shoulder, his fingers curling hard enough to make you whine in pain, kept you in place and enduring the way his teeth nibbled on your earlobe. 

Tears gathered in your eyes, and you were trembling so hard that you dropped your purse. Your head dipped to follow its descent, but suddenly a big, rough hand was gripping your throat and tipping your head back until your cheek was sliding against the stranger's and you shuddered at the soft scrape of his facial hair along your skin.

"What do you want from me?" you whispered, a few tears finally escaping as you stared up at the church ceiling.

A husky laugh rushed past your cheek before he spoke his reply against your ear, "Think I can come up with something."

Between one blink and another, you were gone from your seat and suddenly in one of the dark, empty back hallways of the church. You were far away from the main space, from other people, your frantic mind trying to comprehend how you got here without moving, and so quickly, too.

Those thoughts were lost to you as the stranger pressed you against the wall, his body sinking flush against yours as he gently mouthed along the side of your throat, pausing at your pulse point and dragging his rough tongue over the fluttering spot.

"Please," you choked out, turning your face away and squeezing your eyes shut, not wanting to meet that unnatural gaze of his that had been seared in your brain since that night.

"Already did you one favor, honey, you sure you wanna make it two?" he teased.

As silence stretched on between you, his hand dropped along your body, shifting your sweater up and out of the way until he could thumb at the raised scar on your stomach, the mark that had been with you ever since that night in the alley.

It was instant, the way the warm drag of his skin over yours had a flash of agonizing pain shooting through you, the contact stealing your breath away completely as you went rigid and clenched your teeth against a scream.

"Promise what I want will feel much better than that," he husked against your ear.

He pulled back to watch the terror flashing in your gaze as you stared at him in horror like it was his favorite TV show, a wicked grin curling his lips as he basked in your distress. 

He held your gaze the entire time he worked open the front of his pants before doing the same to yours. When you struggled just a little, trying to shove him away, he encircled your throat in his massive hand and squeezed hard enough to cut off your airflow, his teeth bared in a sneer and his eyes twinkling with victory as you whimpered and went still against him.

As you surrendered to him and his dark desires.

You jerked at the first touch of his fingers to your bare cunt, your panties and work slacks bunched around your knees as this terrifying stranger pet along your most intimate parts like he had every right to.

"I do," he murmured. 

He smirked as your eyes went wide at the way his words were in reply to your thoughts.

Then he slowly sank two fingers into you as he husked, "I told you the cost of saving your life that night, that you're mine now." He licked at your parted lips as his fingers plunged deeper and rubbed. "And so is this cunt."

You couldn't help the sound that fell past your lips, the love child of a moan and a whine, and you weren't sure if was because what he was doing–how he was touching you–actually felt good, or because your body was betraying you by growing so sinfully wet at his wicked touch.

"There you go, sweet girl," he breathed against your lips, his fingers railing you harder. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

You tried to turn your face away instead of answering, but his grip on your neck just tightened, keeping you in place–trapped in his gaze–as he played with your pussy until your insides began to flutter and your thighs started to quake with your impending orgasm.

Just as you felt the first wave of your release cresting, his fingers retreated from your greedy hole, and a disappointed whine got trapped in the back of your throat.

He winked at you before gripping his hard cock in the hand he had just used to work you over, humming as he smeared your juices down the long, curved length of him.

You stared down between your bodies, feeling your cunt clench at the sight of his cock - you'd never seen one so big before, and curved like that, white droplets of pre-cum oozing from the crown as he slowly stroked and squeezed himself in preparation.

When he took a moment to yank off your panties and pants entirely, taking your ballet flats with them as he kicked everything a few feet away, you didn't even resist, in some kind of lust-addled state and desperate to know what that big, thick cock of his felt like inside of you.

"You're about to find out, sweetness," he laughed. 

His free hand dropped to your leg, gripping your thigh and hitching it up around his waist, opening you up for him as he took his weeping cock in hand and slowly filled you up right there against the wall. 

Your hand shot out to grip his shirt, your fingers fisting in response to the slow stretch and burn that was his cock plunging its way inside you for the first time, until your eyes were rolling back in your head, and your back bowed at the invasion.

"Mmm, fuck, that's it," he purred, giving a few rocks of his hips until he was bottoming out and you were gasping sharply at just how deep he was inside of you. 

Dazed, you blinked at him, a distant part of you registering the way his eyes were entirely black now as he gazed at you, and you weren't sure if you clenched around him hard in fear or excitement that someone was looking at you like that.

Like they could not wait to fucking eat you alive.

Another husky laugh fell from his lips as he said, "Oh, honey, that's the understatement of the century."

And then he started to move.

The first retreat of his cock was slow–almost careful–that inhumanly dark gaze watching you avidly as he departed just enough to leave the mushroom head of his cock stretching your hole before sinking back into you slow and deep enough to take you up to your tiptoes.

You squeaked at the invasion, your thighs already trembling, and he grinned at you. His pace picked up until he was gripping the undersides of each of your thighs in one of his hands as he fucked you against the wall hard enough to have you gasping and whining and whimpering with every snap of his hips.

And it didn't go unnoticed by you, how every single time one of those noises escaped you, you could feel his cock throb inside of you. 

The latest round of this sinful give and take made you moan as you clutched him closer and started rocking against him just as hard–just as desperately–as he was moving inside of you.

"Fuck," he laughed breathlessly, amused by your enthusiasm as a glimmer of red flashed through his eyes. "You may just be my favorite indebted yet, sweetness. Haven't felt a cunt this good in a long time. And you're so fucking into it too, you sweet little slut. Really hit the jackpot with you, huh?"

Whining at his words and the way they had your insides clenching and pulsing, you dropped your head back against the wall, feeling the peak of your pleasure closing in quickly.

"Oh no, honey, keep those pretty eyes open and fixed on me, wanna see that fucked out look as you cum for me."

Your eyes blinked open, glassy as you fisted his shirt tighter, your breath catching in your chest as that tightly wound coil deep inside of you finally, blessedly snapped.

You gave a sharp cry of pleasure as your body went taut before your orgasm rushed through you, gasping and moaning as you rocked against his cock, wanting to feel him even more than before, deeper and harder and owning you completely.

"Mmm, I can do that," he purred, dropping his forehead to yours, gripping your thighs tighter, and hammering into you without relent as you rode out your first orgasm before quickly descending into your second.

"Oh god," you cried, slinging an arm around his neck to hold on for dear life as he let loose and started going at you even harder, like a man possessed. 

"Not quite," he panted, splitting you open with one hard, deep rut of his cock after another. "Not even close, actually."

And it was the raspy, wicked husk of his laugh that had you cumming one final time, your body trembling and clenching, rattling with another powerful wave of ecstasy as your pussy rejoiced to be so full and so thoroughly, thoroughly fucked.

"Mmmm, god, that's it, fuck me," the stranger groaned, the next thrust of his cock going impossibly deep and lingering as you felt an unnaturally warm bloom of heat within you. 

Another soft gasp fell from your lips as his next thrust had another hot wave flooding your insides, and you could feel it, the unnatural heat and volume of his spend as he continued to pump you full of it with one eager rut of his cock after another. 

Just when you thought he was done, he sank against you, his face burrowing against the crook of your neck before you felt the sharp pierce of his teeth and a white hot flash of pain as he bit you, just hard enough to draw blood that he could lap at as he rode out his own orgasm with a few final snaps of his hips. 

The unexpected pain had another small orgasm rocking through your pussy, and he laughed against your neck as he felt it, groaning as you milked his cock and sent some of his cum leaking out of your overstuffed cunt and dripping down his balls.

Once his breathless pants died down, he pulled out of you with a satisfied hum, guiding you back to your feet and smirking at the way you wobbled and sagged back against the wall, your sweater rucked up your stomach and his ample amount of cum leaking down your thighs.

He watched you as he slowly redid his clothes, seeming unbothered by tucking away his still messy cock before shooting you a wicked grin. He stepped close, eyes sparkling as your breach caught and you stared up at him in a mixture of fear and awe. 

"You can keep coming here if you want, sweetness," he murmured, gently stroking your warm cheek with his knuckle. Then he leaned in close, so his next words filled your ear, "But really, at the end of the day, and especially after this, you should be worshiping at my altar."

Grinning, he pulled back and stole an obscenely thorough kiss from your parted lips. Then he shot you a wink, disappeared before your eyes, and left you standing there half-naked with his cum cooling on your thighs and the copper tang of your own blood staining your tongue.

WAIT. I KIND OF LOVE THIS?? 

Please take a moment to comment and share your response/reaction/the status of your panties 😘

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Supernatural 05.22 → Swan Song

The devil doesn’t know or care what kind of car the boys drive.

Wouldn't mind playing laser tag if it ended like that

Laser Tag

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,664

Summary: You play laser tag with your boyfriend Steve and his best friend Bucky. Since you’re just a plain ole civilian, you gotta use what non-Avenger skills you have to avoid losing. Hint: those skills involve Steve and kissing.

A/N: Look, I just want Steve & Bucky to be happy and do fun things, okay? So, this is obvs AU, and I regret nothing ;)

“Why do I have to wear purple?” you scowled over at Bucky.

He laughed, looking entirely too smug in his red vest. “Red’s my color, crybaby,” he said, gripping his bright red gun like only an ex murderous assassin could.

“And I can’t not wear blue,” Steve said, fastening the last strap on your vest. He wasn’t even being gropey, which made you pout.

“You guys are taking this laser tag thing waaay too seriously,” you huffed, glaring at Steve as he readjusted your grip on the purple gun until you held it properly.

He gave you his ‘aw shucks’ grin as he stepped away and pulled his own gun from across his back. “Every man—“

You raised an eyebrow.

“And gal,” he quickly added, “For him or herself, okay?” His smile slowly faded and was soon replaced by Captain America in the Field face.

Continuar a ler

Congrats hun! Captain America would be proud of y'all!

Also how about 'monster cock' with Steve? I know I have no class😶😶

Monster Cock

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Summary: It was big, and you couldn’t stop staring.

Warning: Explicit language. Sexual themes. 18+

Teaser

“Jesus,” you squeaked, unable to look away from the monster cock before you.

Steve could feel his blush heating up his chest and face, even his ears were burning.

“I’m sorry,” he stuttered, not quite sure what to say. “I uh, well, you know how I am with these things.”

You blinked owlishly, finally pulling your gaze from the big screen TV that was playing some ridiculous monster cock porn. You glanced over at Steve, smiling as he held our three different remotes for you.

“I don’t understand why there’s so many for one device.”

You giggled, picking the main remote and quickly shutting off the porn.

Steve actually sagged in relief when you fiddled with the buttons and CNN lit up the screen.

“I wasn’t watching that, by the way,” he gestured faintly toward the TV. “It just started playing when I was making my smoothie.” He thumbed over his shoulder toward the communal kitchen.

You glanced between the kitchen and the TV, then to the little red light that indicated one of Tony’s many easy to miss surveillance slash Jarvis devices.

“I have an idea what happened,” you muttered. “I think Tony was messing with you.”

“When isn’t he?” Steve rolled his eyes before moving back toward the kitchen.

Feeling mischievous, you tagged along, leaning against the counter across from him. You watched as Steve grabbed a handful of kale from the big bag on the counter as he went about finishing his smoothie.

As nonchalantly as possible, you asked, “So was that your first time seeing a monster cock? Or do you see one every morning when you shower?”

You giggled as Steve completely missed the blender and dropped his handful of kale on the floor.

Baby fox with a broken leg gets rescued and visits the vet for his cast.

(via)

A hungry baby

Dark woods