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kirishoshego · 3 years

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Moneypulated PT.2//Aizawa

!!!MINORS DNI!!! 18+ONLY!!!

Special thanks to Emmie for creating this awesome S&M event and letting me participate and those who requested a part two of my first Aizawa piece x

If you like Sadism and Masochism, BNHA; AOT and Haikyuu the event is definitely for you :)

Pairing: Sadist!Mob-Boss!Dom!Aizawa x Masochist!Sub!femreader Words:3.2+

Summary: When your life is threatened Aizawa realized just how important you are to him. A small fight leaves you bend over the couch, cross eyes and leads to him admitting his feelings for you.

TW: slight mention of torture (a bit more at the end), s&m, controlling Aizawa, calling him sir, knife play (no blood), slight ass and nipple play, orgasm denial, slight oral, biting, spanking, hair pulling, dirty talk, slight bit of degration and teasing

Three month, three weeks and three days. That’s how long it took you to develop positive feelings for him. He gave you everything, but privacy, something you had to learn rather quick because that man was strong and even though he doesn’t look like it, heavy. You told him no twice. The first time left you bruised for at least three days, fucked into oblivion. The second time left you sobbing from his impact play. You hated how little you could control your body, dripping wet before he slipped into you. Something he would love to taunt you with. „Always so quiet and modest. Yet here you are begging to be fucked by a criminal after he spanked you blue and green. Don’t tell me you like that. Tsk, dirty girl,“ he told you with a slight smirk on his face, one hand having a strong hold in your hair to hold you up so he could look at you. The other one pinched and played with clit, milking orgasm after orgasm.

He knew how to work his charm, knew how to impress you. Listened, remembered basically every detail about you. Aizawa wanted to know everything about you, from childhood memories to teenage drama to your goals and dreams. Of course he was genially interested in you, after all he wanted you at his side, but it was also helpful to know one or too secrets. Just in case. It was understandable that he was a bit shocked and also even more alarmed when Shota noticed how fast you adapted to the captive state of yours. There was no attempt of you running away, either because you knew it wouldn’t work with guards everywhere around you, or because you were afraid. So he tested it out. Gave you a car, told you to go enjoy yourself, get pampered for a surprise he had prepared.

First thing you did was getting new underwear because as much as you… appreciated him buying it for you you would like to have a few comfortable pieces that cover more than 3 inches of your skin. You stopped to get a nice drink at a small restaurant, got a small snack before you ended up buying four new plants. A smile creeped up on his face when his phone signaled him he got a new message from Shinso. Attached to it was a picture of you smiling while picking up the most sad looking flower he had ever seen.

It happened while driving back. You realized happiness started to form in your stomach at the thought of seeing him again. Excitement about showing him what you had bought. How could you be happy? After how he treated you in front of so many men, so many strangers. But then again he took care of a man who had sold you for his addiction. You knew he was in the hospital right now, after trying to enter the casino again. At first you thought he was there to get you, to show at least some sort of remorse. Even though their boss told them not to tell you those details Denki let it slip that Kirishima caught him gambling. With that your last string of attachment ripped apart. It wasn’t hard to choose between being left alone with nothing or a slightly questionable man who (as much as you would like to deny it) made you feel good, save and wanted.

That day was the first time he took you to the casino with him, introduced you to a part of his world. The one that was less brutal. He wouldn’t not let you see someone getting tortured. But he knew how gruesome it can get and even though he wouldn’t tell anyone, he threw up after his first time, felt sick the first five. It just made it so much easier to get people to talk. Or make them stop. Sometimes they need to be taught a lesson or too to not put their noses in his businesses.

Rumors started to spread around fast after your first appearance. Shota Aizawa has a trophy wife. Something that made him weak. A pretty one on top of that and she was supposed to be his little lucky charm. Every table you appeared at, the house would win. You didn’t play yourself, you only sat besides your... Well, besides the mob boss himself.

There was no explanation for it really, it wasn’t luck per se. It was math. Some liked math in school, some didn’t. What you liked more though was winning. And games like these were hard to predict, but not impossible. Another aspect were their faces. Everyone focused on their face and those of others, tried to keep cool while detecting a mistake of others that they forgot about other limbs. Some tapped their fingers against the table or cards, others would play with their drink, swirling the ice cubes around without touching it. Some bounced their legs, crossed them, scratched them. Once you caught their mistake it was over for them.

While some got scared because of it, others seemed to find a challenge in it. They wanted to beat you. How could you know that one night you will have the son of another mob boss on the table? He was supposed to be a spy, simply collect information about you and leave. But the opportunity to beat you and therefor Aizawa was too alluring. How could he know that he will lose almost 33 Million yen in one night? And with those 33 Million yen came a big target right on your back.

In less than 24 hours a collection of pictures and informations about you was delivered to Peony. In less than 24 hours your world was turned upside down yet again. The freedom you were given was taken away in order to protect you. His worry for you was understandable but when he decided to have Bakugo and Kirishima on your heels 24/7 you had enough.

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

„I’m inside the house! The house has walls almost thrice as high as Kirishima’s 7 foot frame, a massive garden with six well trained guard dogs running around. You have the best alarm system there is on the market and still I’m not even allowed to use the bathroom in private. It’s humiliating,“ you explained to him angrily. „I would rather humiliate you than pick up your dead body limp by limp,“ he tried reasoning. „Do you even hear yourself? How can you say something like that? Do you not trust your men? I can defend myself! Eijiro has-„ suddenly you went quiet, realizing too late what gravitating mistake you just that you had just exposed yourself.

„Eijiro has what? Continue doll. I‘m all ears,“ he leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms over his in a black shirt clad chest. „We shouldn‘t be changing the subject now. I need-," „What you need is to tell me what Kirishima did,“ you wouldn‘t be so on edge if he yelled at you, screaming at the top of his lungs, slam his hand on the desk, anything. Instead he was dangerously calm, collected, ready for you to make the next step. Knowing you were trapped like a small mouse between a wall and an awaiting cat, only playing with its fear.

„I will tell you if you promise me he isn‘t going to suffer any consequences. He had no ill intentions,“ you started explaining, making a step forward and trying to look as timid as possible so he will show mercy. „You actually think you‘re in a position to negotiate? Oh darling, it is breaking my heart a tiny bit to see you’re underestimating me,“ he faked a pained expression before closing the gab between the two of you.

You knew better than to relax yourself into his touch as he caressed your cheek, planting a small kiss on your forehead.

„Now,“ Aizawa stood behind you within a second, your wrists in his hand behind your back, something cold against your neck. „Please continue before I lose the small amount of patience that is left inside of me,” he sounded threatening, his voice deep and raspy, mouth dangerously close to your ear lobe. The knife near your aorta send adrenaline through your whole body, your pussy pulsing as you caught sight of your current position in his window.

You noticed his eyes wandering over the curves of your body, as the sound heavy breathing hit your ear. It seems like he was holding back, but be the looks of it all he wanted to do was drag the knife along your clothes and watch it drop to the floor. It wasn’t on purpose, more or less, but your hand brushed against his crotch, hearing him hiss as you touched his hard length for a mere second. The grip on the red handle tightened, pulling your body into his and leading your hand back to his crotch.

Eyes met in the window as he licked his lips. He tilted your head back slightly with the tip of the sharp blade, kissing the spot behind your ear.

„Sorry kitten, but this isn’t the time to play,“ he whispered into your ear while you started massaging him through his suit pants. A smirk appeared on your face as you agreed with him ‚oh I know, sir‘ you basically purred. Within seconds you pulled yourself away from him with your whole strength, bowing as he went to grab your hair and kicking back into his stomach as you turned which send him to the floor as he stumbled. Grabbing the knife from his hand and dropping onto his hips as you held the knife to his throat.

„Eijiro taught me how to defend myself, so I don’t have creepy old men all over me,“ you told him, a sudden wisp of a moan leaving your throat as he grabbed your hips and ground his pelvis against yours. „I didn’t know I’m a creepy old man. Wasn’t it just yesterday that you begged me to stuff you? And wasn’t it you that screamed my name so the whole house could hear who fucks you ‚like a god‘? Hm… I must confuse you with someone else that came cross eyed all over me considering I don’t play with brats,“ as the last word left his mouth he flipped you around, turning you so your stomach was flat against the freshly cleaned floor, hand in between your shoulder blades to hold you down.

He thanked the sun for shining so brightly and the clouds for not appearing, considering it lead to you dressed in the shortest little sundress you could find in your closet. The color suited you so damn well and the dress made it so easy for him to uncover your ass. His hungry eyes starred at it in its full glory, feeling his rock hard cock to twitch in his pants.

The blade was dragged across your skin and he could have fucked you right then and there as he noticed how you tried to clench your legs, goose bumps appearing on your skin. „Don’t tell me you enjoy this, such a dirty girl,“ he stopped right at the hem of your underwear, dragging the flat side across your clit and earning another moan of yours. He chuckled, „I see.“

Suddenly the blade was back at your throat, his other hand massaging your ass. „If you try to move or forget to thank me I might have to use the sharp side next time and we don’t want that do we doll?“ Shota asked you, the tip slightly pressed onto your sweet spot as you took to long to reply for his liking. „No sir,“ your voice was slightly shaky as the anticipation inside of you grew. „Not so tough anymore, thought so,“ he loved your submissive state, every time he thought he went too far you were there dripping wet for him.

Without a warning his hand came down hard on your ass, massaging your cheek before disappearing again. „Thank you sir,“ you moaned, the next slap delivered right after. „Thank you sir,“ you said again, feeling our wetness slowly seeping through the thin fabric covering your cunt. Every once in a while he would dip his fingers between your folds, playing with your clit until you’re about to cum, only to stop and spank you again.

Once your ass was a bright red and noticeable handprints adorned your flesh he decided he had enough. The last few thank you’s gave away that you started crying softly, maybe slightly caused by the pain, but more at fault definitely were the denied orgasms.

„Had time to overthink your statement from earlier?“ Aizawa went down to your ass, pushing your panties to the side and dragging his tongue across your slit, dipping inside for a second to collect some of your juice. Kisses were plastered across your abused skin, bitting down onto it to hear you moan again.

„I give you ten seconds to go over to my couch, get undressed and bend over it,“ if you weren’t so incredibly needy right now you might even had begged for some more spanks.

You could hear him get undressed as you did the same, back turned to him to allow him a nice view on your behind.

You could feel his presence even before he touched you, the smell of his cologne mixed with his sweat hitting your nose. Rough hands collided with your ass once more, before wandering up your back, one finding its way into your hair, the other one holding his thick girth in his hand and dragging it from your clit to your hole. You whined as you noticed him going back down again with his tip, which lead to him plunging into your throbbing pussy all at once. Curses tumbled from the both of you, finally getting what you wanted.

Shota pulled you up by your hair, allowing his hand to play with chest. Cold metal came in contact with your nipples and only now did you realize that he had brought the knife with him. It took maybe a minute for your first orgasm to hit, considering the ones you were denied earlier had you on edge already. „Done already kitten? Does that mean you want me to stop?“ He knew it meant everything but. It’s just, having you beg for more gets him every time and he can’t deny how powerful it made him feel, which he needed now more than ever. „No, fuck. Please sir, need mo-oh, more,“ a moan cut through you as a single thrust hit your g-spot directly.

„Take it then,“ he pulled you down with him on the couch, his back against the backrest as you straddled his legs. Do to the new position his cock was even deeper than before and you were shaking with almost every bounce as you went up and down on him. Black eyes wandered from your face to your tits to your cunt, watching him disappear inside of you over and over again. Aizawa’s arms wandered from its resting place back to your body, one going to your back, the other one staying in the front.

You hissed, eyes growing wide as you felt rough fingers circling your puckering hole, while the other ones drew lazy patterns on your clit. Every now and then he would meet your movements, burying himself even deeper inside of you. By now you were a moaning mess, clenching around him as you could feel another knot building up in the pit of your stomach. „It’s alright, I got you. You can cum, I know you want to,“ Shota groaned, picking up the speed of his fingers and watching in pure bliss as you came undone once again, slowing down and pulling you into a deep kiss.

As you went to get up from him, your body now sensitive he grabbed your hips, pushing you down again. „Just because you’re on top doesn’t mean you get to control when we’re done,“ he said, delivering a harsh slip to the left side of your tits, before grabbing your throat and pushing you down into the mating press. „You have to remember your place doll. I get decide when we’re finished and I’m not done yet,“ he grunted, snapping his hips as the hand around you held you in place firmly. A warning slap heated up your tears stained cheek when you tried to wiggle away from him and he felt you clenching around his dick.

You looked so good with mascara running down your face, he thought, feeling himself getting closer and closer as you moaned his name like some sort of prayer. „Again, please,“ you said, feeling the third high coming. It took him a second to understand what you asked for, but when it finally clicked he cursed under his breath, telling you how perfect you are. As he slapped you again, holding your face in his hand and kissing your lips hotly you were holding onto his arm for dear life. Stars appeared in front your eyes as you came once again. You barely noticed anything but his thrusts turning sloppy before he released himself inside of you, buried deep and painting your insides white.

„I didn’t know pain turned you on so much,“ he said with a lazy smile on his face, looking down on your face, your embarrassed expression hardly hidden. „Me neither to be honest… You know how it went in the past,“ you hinted at your unsatisfied sex life with your ex husband, who thought doggy style was already pretty kinky. No shame to vanilla people, but now you knew it wasn’t what you wanted. „It’s good to know, we will test out more things in the future,“ the thought of it turned you on again already and you kissed his chest, letting him know you like the sound of that idea.

„I love you, you know?“ He mumbled as the two of you laid on the couch while drawing patterns on your back lazily. Your heart skipped a bit, this was the first time Aizawa mentioned his feelings for you. „You don’t gotta say it back, I know it’s all a bit messy,“ he said, kissing your forehead. „No, it’s just… After sex the mind is always bit-,“ „Yours might be after that but mine is as clear as ever,“ he cut you off, making you roll your eyes and laugh gently. „I love you too,“ it was mumbled, almost unnoticeable, but he heard you just fine which was all he needed.

————————————- Extra—————————————-

„I run this town. Piss me off again and your wife will find out about your little affair with your little lover boy. She’s pregnant, right? And you would like to be able to care for her don’t you? If so, I suggest you to never threaten my wife or my men ever again. It won’t just be your finger that I cut off, understood?“ He knew killing him off immediately will only cause war. He would win, of course, but it would be unnecessary and taking too much of his energy. „Yes Mister Aizawa,“ the hatred and fear in his eyes pleased him enough for the day, so he walked out of the room, ordering Bakugo to drop him off a few miles away from everyone. A nice nightly walk might clear his head he explained so the man bound to the chair could hear him just fine. „Don’t worry, I will let you keep your finger, but you should hurry, they turn bad fast,“ with that he went into the dark, ready to get home to you.

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firefly-in-darkness · 5 years

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Survive.

Characters: Dean Winchester & Reader, Sam Winchester

Summary: Sam receives a cryptic text from Y/N and Dean does not hesitate to come to your rescue.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: 18+, Violence, Sex

A/N: This is a sequel to Breathe but can be read as a standalone. A huge thank you to @negans-lucille-tblr for checking it over and putting my mind at ease about this one!

Firefly’s Library & Masterlist

Tags: @princessmisery666 @peridottea91 @missjenniferb @squirrelnotsam @mylovelydame21 @missjenniferb @tftumblin @akshi8278

“Y/N’s just text me.” Sam’s voice was laced with concern, but Dean could not help the excitement that coursed through his veins. “She’s pissed off some vampires and needs our help.”

Dean grabbed the phone out of Sam’s hand and read the message, “You saw her a week ago and you didn’t tell me?!”

Sam shrugged his shoulders, “She asked me not to tell you.”

“C’mon, that’s not fair, it’s been a year, why does she not want to see me?” Dean’s brows furrowed as he almost walked into the Impala, “And why do you have her contact image as Blade?”

Sam’s laughter caused his body to shake, “It was one of the first films we watched and afterwards she pranced around with an umbrella like it was a sword.”

“So, you’re having movie nights now?!” Dean grumbled at Sam whilst they took their seats in the Impala. “Talk about moving in on my girl.”

Sam rolled his eyes and pulled up the GPS, “She’s not your girl Dean, but for the record, we are just friends. We should get to Y/N’s in about three hours.”

One Week Ago

The dispatcher’s voice came through the radio in the otherwise silent apartment. Y/N moved closer to the speakers and listened for any clues to the recent suspicious deaths in the town.

Dispatch: 24 Victoria Street, domestic disturbance reported by neighbour.

RG325: On our way, will radio when at the scene.

Dispatch: Roger 325.

Victoria Street was not far from where she lived so it wouldn’t take her long to get there. Other reports and radio checks were made for another ten minutes but none of interest came through until there was an update about Victoria Street.

RG325: 325 to Dispatch.

Dispatch: Go ahead 325.

RG325: On site of 24 Victoria Street. Front entrance open, signs of a struggle. PC Hart and PC Jones entering, break - -

Dispatch: Received, go ahead.

RG325: 10-33. Dispatch ambulance, white female, mid-30s, brunette and brown eyes. Appears to be wounded by a knife to thighs and scratches to chest, break - -

Dispatch: Received, on route, go ahead.

Y/N was out of the apartment door, she skipped steps to reach the ground floor. Her mind focused on the woman, who could potentially be a witness to the attacker. To anyone in the street, she looked like any other person doing their routinely exercise, little did they know of the weapon stored in her backpack. She could only hear her feet as they pounded the pavement which was disturbed by the sirens and ambulance that raced by her.

Once Y/N reached Victoria street, she slowed down and turned the corner; lights flashed, and officers shouted out to the paramedics. An officer came out of the house, covered in blood and stated that Sarah Campbell was dead. Minutes later, they lifted a sealed black bag into the ambulance.

At least Y/N had a head start with a name and didn’t have to wait until it was announced two days later in the local paper.

3 Days ago

Y/N’s mind was in overdrive as it went over the new evidence that she had gathered.

People found dead with their blood drained and puncture marks at the thighs for the femoral artery and some chests had been caved, most likely for direct access to the aorta.

She was surprised by the brutality and consumption of the hearts, but nothing could dispute what she had seen to be the attack of vampires. The files were an array of photographs, statements and post it notes strewn across the floor of her living room.

The tension in her leg muscles made it difficult to stand as she rose from the floor to grab another glass of wine. Y/N almost filled the glass to the brim and sipped it tentatively until she was certain not to spill it when she walked back from the kitchen to the couch.

Max jumped onto the sofa and headbutted her arm until she moved the file off the lap that he craved. The ginger cat stretched, and his tail swished before he curled up into a fluffy ball. Without hesitation, Y/N’s fingers glided along Max’s side, not too close to his tummy. Purrs softly filled the room as thoughts of Bella, the youngest victim, and the pain she endured was at the forefront of her mind.

All these victims are of similar ages except Bella. Why? Y/N kept scanning over the other victims, their partners or close friends had reported them missing and they had been found in their own homes.

Why was Bella in the middle of the street? Nobody had even tried to move or cover her body, she was found next to her bike with no other evidence.

Present Day

After being directed to Y/N’s voicemail and several knocks to the door ignored, Dean lifted the doormat with hope to find a key. Sam scoffed and reached above the door frame for the spare.

“How did you know that was there?”

Sam opened the apartment and Dean barged in with a gun raised and a knife ready. Nothing seemed out of place, it was exactly how he remembered it. The red umbrella by the front door, even the kitchen and living area was still decorated the same. However, Dean did notice there were a few new additions to her succulent collection by the window.

The Winchesters settled into the living space; Dean looked through the recent searches on Y/N’s laptop and Sam read through the files scattered on the floor and the notes that had been scrawled across police reports and on the back of photographs.

Sam showed Dean the two photographs; Bella scribbled on the back and the other of a couple, The Campbells. “Bella was the first victim to be younger than 23 and left out in the open for anyone to find. Y/N checked out the attack at Victoria Street, Sarah Campbell was dead when she arrived. Sarah’s partner, Drew, had committed suicide earlier in the week.”

“I think we should pop to Anderson’s, they might know where she is.” Dean’s green eyes glistened, “I’m scared, I don’t like it Sammy.”

Y/N was stirred by the headache that pounded in her skull and the sounds of classical music that drifted from another room. Her wrists were bound behind her and even after a few tugs and squirms, she was unable to release herself. The room was the same one that she had been in a few days ago.

The man that had just walked into Anderson’s Bar was a vampire and Y/N had decapitated recently. She had to escape, before he recognised her. She walked through the kitchen and was about to sneak out the back door when Jane stood in her way.

“And where do you think you’re going?” She folded her arms and raised her eyebrows.

Y/N coughed and sniffed, “I’m not feeling well.”

Jane rolled her eyes and shoved her out the back door, “Don’t come back until you can come up with a better excuse.”

Y/N rushed around the corner, straight into the chest of someone. Before she could retaliate, he had twisted her arm behind and covered her mouth with a cloth.

Everything went black.

Fear settled on Y/N’s chest, her heartbeat quickened and sweat pooled above her brow. She glanced around and noticed her captor was faced away, towards the window.

“You’re finally awake. Do you know how painful it is to have your head cut off and then reattached?!”

Y/N stammered, unable to say anything at all.

The man smirked whilst he held up her phone, “Well, you don’t have to answer. I already know all about your friend, Sam Winchester. And it looks like he’s on his way here.”

“No!” She screamed and tried to stand up.

The man growled and smacked Y/N with the back of his hand, and she was knocked unconscious.

Sam and Dean strolled into Anderson’s, headed straight to the bar and called Jane over. Jane’s smile dropped the instant she saw the FBI agents.

“You are not welcome here, take your smug ass out of here.” Anger was poured into every word as she pointed and glared at Dean.

“Uh-hi Jane, sorry but we’re looking for Y/N. Have you seen her?” Sam shuffled into Jane’s line of sight and tried to get her attention.

“Hi Sammy.” Jane turned back to Dean and snarled, “What have you done to her this time?!”

Sam replied softly, “Jane, we haven’t seen her, that’s why we are here. Did she say or do anything different to normal? Is there any chance we could look at your CCTV?”

“Well, I guess she gave a lame excuse for bailing on her shift a couple of nights ago.”

Sam pretended to make some notes of what Jane had said about Y/N being better than she was a few months ago, that she had a spring back in her step and her smile started to reach her eyes again.

“She was not the same after you two left for good. You can’t bring somebody into that kind of life and expect them to be okay. You used her, all because she was a witness. It’s disgusting and I’m surprised you got away with it.”

“Y/N knew exactly what she was getting herself into.” Dean mumbled and picked at a beer mat.

“Go on through, it’s just through that door.” Jane lifted the bar divider for Sam then stopped Dean from following, “You can wait here.”

Dean settled into the bar stool and Jane handed him a beer whilst he waited. A few minutes had passed, and Dean watched the condensation dribble down the bottle. He had almost picked the entire label off the bottle when Jane leant across the bar.

“You don’t deserve a woman like Y/N.”

Dean huffed, “Well you’ve got that right, and that’s probably why she ended it.”

“Y/N didn’t tell me the full story but are you really that stupid? If it wasn’t for her continued friendship with Sammy, I don’t doubt it would have taken twice as long to heal from you guys leaving her behind.”

“She made it very clear that she didn’t want me around anymore. The second it became more than a fling, she shut me out. I thought I feared commitment but damn.”

“Asshole!” Jane slapped him straight across his cheek, “She knew exactly the type of guys you were the second you stepped foot in here. A couple of FBI agents constantly crossing state lines and working all hours. She knew you would never give up being the hero, but she still fell in love with you and thought that you wouldn’t abandon her.”

The weight of Jane’s words hit Dean and he realised just how stupid he had been. How wrapped up he was in himself, not once did he think about Y/N’s feelings. He looked up at Jane and had never been more grateful for the woman’s existence.

He grabbed her shoulders and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”

“Nothing on the footage Jane, thanks anyways.” Sam leant down to hug Jane and Dean caught the flicker in his expression.

Dean’s chest constricted and panic settled over him; he thought of all the possibilities of what had happened to Y/N. He leapt from the stall, Sam rounded the bar and they walked out of Anderson’s. As soon as they were outside, they bolted to the car.

“We need to find Y/N. Let’s go back to Y/N’s place and see if we have missed anything. I think she’s taking on a Nachzehrer.”

Grit scattered across the parking lot and the tyres from the Impala screeched into motion. The brothers left in a cloud of dust.

Dean walked into Y/N’s bedroom and scoffed at the unmade bed and several mugs of half-drunk coffee dotted around the room. Some things never change, he thought to himself and allowed her scent to engulf him. The smell of coconut brought on a distant memory of them together amongst rumpled sheets.

Soft sighs escaped Y/N’s lips as she relished in the peace felt from each other’s embrace and the sound of the rain tapping against the window pane. Dean rested his head underneath her chin and stroked patterns on her stomach whilst she carded her fingers through his hair.

Dean pressed kisses along her shoulder and the feel of his lips sparked desire. The arousal grew from the way his hand softly glided up Y/N’s thigh and his fingertips edged closer to her aching core. The sensation caused a shiver and a moan was released from her lips as Dean pulled Y/N’s legs apart to dip his finger into her slick. She whimpered against his mouth before he captured her bottom lip in a bite which he soothed with a flick of his tongue.

They untangled themselves from the sheets, lips still locked together as she gently eased Dean onto his back. Y/N’s hand wrapped around his hardened cock and the growl rasped from his throat. He pulled away from her lips and she saw the desire in his green eyes. Dean palmed at her breasts and teased her clit, but he was too overwhelmed by the way she stroked him.

Y/N left a trail of wet kisses against his chest and stomach until she reached his groin. The growl from Dean urged her to nip at the skin by his thighs and lick along the edge of his cock before she pressed her lips against the precum beaded tip. Y/N guided his cock into her mouth until he was at the back of her throat. Dean gripped the messy ponytail atop her head as she sucked and swirled her tongue around him.

“Fuck Y/N, your mouth feels so fuckin’ good.” Dean growled.

Y/N continued to bob up and down on his cock as she reached between her legs and rubbed her clit. Y/N knew he loved watching her and she could not help but look at him with a smirk as she pumped faster. She sucked harder and massaged Dean’s balls and he pulled on the ponytail. The burn on her scalp made Y/N suck harder and curl her fingers inside her. Dean’s cock twitched, Y/N’s walls clenched, and the ecstasy rippled through them both; he coated the back of her throat with his cum and her orgasm seeped down her legs.

CRUNCH. Dean lifted his boot to see the scattered pieces of ceramic blue. Bills and coins scattered amongst the remnants of Y/N’s holiday fund jar. He knelt to pick up the pieces and spotted an upside-down photo frame peeking out from under the bed. Dean’s curiosity got the better of him and he lifted it to see the cracked glass and his own green eyes stared back at him. Then he saw her face, smiling up at the other him. The man he was before.

“I am so sorry I didn’t stick around sweetheart.”

Y/N’s heart raced, and her stomach churned at the sound of the Impala pulling up outside the house. Drew Campbell was distracted by the porch steps creaking and looking out the window that he didn’t notice the wriggle, the ropes that had Y/N bound were nearly loose enough to escape.

“Drew, stop this. It’s me that you want, they have nothing to do with this!” Y/N pleaded, and tears welled in her eyes.

Drew strode over from the window, leant down and whispered in her ear, “Do you really think I was going to miss the opportunity to take out a Winchester?”

The silence made Drew smirk, but he was unaware of the eye contact Y/N had made with Dean through the window of the door. She clenched her jaw and smashed her head into his, and Drew fell to the floor, a hand clutched to his forehead and a grimace on his face.

Dean booted down the door and pulled at the ropes before Y/N even acknowledged him, her mind was clouded with pain and dizziness. The Nachzeher tackled Dean, the axe abandoned as punches beat down between them. Dean’s fist cracked against Drew’s nose and he retaliated with a knee to Dean’s stomach. Blood spattered and grunts echoed through the room.

Sam burst through from the kitchen; he untied and dragged Y/N away from the fight. His hands gripped her shoulders and then her face; he looked for any severe wounds before he pushed Y/N backwards. Dean tossed Drew across the room; his body smashed into the table and splinters scattered. Sam grabbed the axe and threw it towards Dean who caught it easily. The Winchesters flanked Y/N and Drew realised he was surrounded with no escape.

Y/N delved into her jacket pocket for a penny and the brothers grabbed him; Sam pulled his arms behind his back and Dean gripped his jaw open. She shoved the coin into his mouth and Drew’s body thumped to the ground, frozen in place. The fear in his eyes did nothing for Y/N’s anger as she took Dean’s axe and slammed it through his neck, repeatedly.

After Dean and Y/N had showered, they cleared up the mess in the living room together, in silence. Y/N was wrapped in a fluffy dressing gown and felt as though a weight had been lifted from the soft warmth it provided. Sam’s voice carried from the bathroom as he sang an unrecognisable tune.

Y/N tucked her legs underneath as she sat on the couch. Dean joined her and pulled her hands into his, it had been so long since she had felt Dean’s touch.

Dean refused to look at Y/N as he spoke, “Y/N, the world is changing and it’s getting harder to fight these monsters, you need to be safe.”

She snatched her hands away, “I’m a hunter, I am not going to stop.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Dean grabbed her face, unable to avoid each other’s gaze.

She was lost in his green eyes that she didn’t register the way Dean brushed her hair away and crashed his lips to hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer as she kissed him back.

Dean pulled away and noticed how her eyes sparkled, “I would never stop you from being a hunter.”

“I know De. Will you stay, at least tonight?” Y/N had spoken with quiet uncertainty.

“I’m not going anywhere Y/N, I’m staying for good.” Dean whispered and kissed her again.

Sam left a note on the kitchen counter. Staying at the hotel, be back for breakfast. He smiled to himself as he wondered how long it would take them to notice that he was no longer there.

THE END.

#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #spn #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #winchesters #reader insert #supernatural reader insert

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felwarden-ed · 5 years

Text

Initiation

Terras didn’t think it was going to be that easy.

Before him, a felled Charhound, its’ body quickly cooling, the flames under its’ skin rapidly dulling. It was not the first time he’d seen the light of life leave something. Perhaps he envied the beast. To give up so easily, to let his grip on reality finally slip and sink into the realm of forever sleep… he’d dreamt about it sometimes.

His eyes flick up towards the Kaldorei presiding over his initiation. Several ritual mages stood back, their heads shrouded by cloth and shadow alike. The Kaldorei nodded.

“Go on.”

“It’s too easy.”

“It’s not. Eat it’s heart, Sunwarden.”

He does as he’s told, opening up the chest cavity with some difficulty. The skin was tough, and scaled, almost jerky-like in some places. Subdued horror ignited in the back of his brain at the realization that his skin would be like that, toughened and dark, almost chitinous. It didn’t stop him from roughly severing the massive aorta of the beast, blood spraying his chest and forearms.

It was a wholly unsavory process, from retrieving the heart to attempting to consume it. The meat was tough, it hurt his teeth when he ripped off strips. It gagged him, he felt sick. He crammed it in his mouth, down his throat, he’d choke on it if he had to. Death now would be better than failure.

Just as quickly as this process had started, it ended, like a feast so delicious one didn’t want it to end.

The fledgling slunk back, away from the husk of the demon. He sinks to the floor, laying his cheek to the stone as if to find comfort from it, as if the coolness would soothe his blazing skin. The miasma spread through him, slowly, as the mages stepped up and began to chant over his crumpled form.

He looked up at the arcanists, head barely raising from the ground. “Wait..” He mumbled. Something was moving inside of him. His stomach convulsed, he bit back a heave. Whatever was inside of him wanted out of him, like seeds planted in the earth. His abdomen might burst open and whatever was inside of him would blossom, be it pain or hate, he didn’t know what.

Then there was nothing.

He was hiding next to their couch. An old faded red, open on one side. It held memories of gentle touches and muted sounds, as well as laughter and merriment. He’d hosted friends on that couch. The cat gave birth to her kittens on it, before she was spayed. He and Keenan frequented it, when the bed was simply too far away.

Now, Zaram, the cat, cowered between his feet as Keenan fought off ghouls outside. He could hear him, his strikes were slowing. He was tired. Terras could feel it. Keenan was a flame caught out in the cold, he wouldn’t last long. The snow would take him.

The death knight approached, and he realized what this was. Someone had picked through his brain and selected this, as one selects a passage from a book for a student to read, testing him. Provoking him. He was not here. The death knight smashed Keenan’s head against the window. This was not real. Keenan’s head cracked the window, his body spasmed. This was not real.

Zaram let out a yowl and dashed out from between his legs, further into the house to hide. Animals had a sixth sense. They knew. They feared death all the same.

He knew his role now. As if he were a character in a play, Terras walked out the door. He was not emotional, as he was before. Instead, he said the words of power, and nothing happened. The elven death knight before him snarled, dropping Keenan’s body to the ground, where it shattered as if made of ice.

The death knight didn’t draw its’ swords, but stepped over the shards of his husband, baring a mouthful of teeth. Terras then rushed the creature-- a beast, a monster that had murdered his husband. It took his future. It destroyed his home, his village. All at once, he blamed it simultaneously for everything, Keenan, Windrunner Village, the Dead Scar, Sylvanas and King Anastarian all at once.

Its’ helmet was off, it might have been handsome, in life. It certainly wasn’t handsome when Terras started burying his fists in its’ face. Its’ face bloomed all kinds of color, the blood not yet drained from its’ body, or congealed and old. The beast was fresh from the next village over.

Terras screamed.

He felt possessed, he felt like a demon. Maim, kill. Eviscerate. His hands wrapped around the death knight’s sword hilt, prying the weapon from the ill-fated abomination’s sheath. He lifted the blade above his head but before he could bring it down the beast opened its’ mouth to once again reveal its’ unnaturally sharp teeth, and only then did Terras catch the glow in its’ throat.

“No-!” It could have been a no. It could have been a shriek of pure rage. He couldn’t remember anymore. Fire filled his open mouth and nose, scorched his face. His lungs choked and cracked from the heat, the alveoli inside of them burst, like ripe grapes in a hot field.

But his arms made it, they swung down, cleaving into the head of the monster. Its’ breath stopped, it flung him across the way and now he could see, it was the charhound. The demon. Sword still in its’ thick skull. The beast paced, looking at him.

Pitiful. Its’ words rolled over the hills of Quel’thalas like thunder. So small. So weak. How will you ever hope to contain my magnificence?

Terras sputtered. He gasped, the fire still burning in his throat. Everything around him smelled of burning hair and meat. “What-- what do I call you?”

The charhound’s nostrils flared in annoyance. You will not live long. I will humor that request. Its’ voice boomed. I am called Dentaxx, little one.

Names have power. He had to remember its’ name, when the time came.

He looked around, he was about five feet from the open door of a house. A house he remembered quite well. He had stumbled in there, long ago, and stolen a sword from the dead occupant. He could do it again, if he forced himself.

His lungs screamed. His legs cried, but he ran into the house, accompanied by the loud stomps of the charhound quickly following him.

Why do you fight it, little one? The hound crooned from outside, struggling with the doorway as Terras raced as fast as he could to the second floor. You want this. Do not deny it, I have seen your memories.

The short sword was where he remembered it. He snatched it up, and made a dash for the balcony. He could leap off the balcony, and slash the hound across the back before it even knew what was happening--

As he feet launched from the structure, the building faded away. Everything fell out from under him, and his feet made contact with sundered earth. The ground hissed upon contact with his boots.

Look, small one. It is pointless. Dentaxx continued. Terras could feel the hound’s hot breath on his neck.

Before him were endless armies. One layered atop another and another-- multiple realities layered and criss-crossed like a grotesque afghan of mismatched color. Demons born and reborn over and over again. Even if they managed to defeat the Legion on Outland, or defend Azeroth, they would never be truly defeated. They would return, and try again. And again. And again until they had their prize.

I could help you. Dentaxx snorted, I could end it for you. Isn’t that what you want? You joined the Illidari to die. I could make it quick for you.

Terras shook. The Shadowlands were tempting. He and Keenan could be together again. They could laugh, and embrace. It comforts him, to put a smile on his husband’s face. What the demon had said wasn’t necessarily wrong, either. He hoped, upon entering the Ilidari’s service, that he would almost die in their service. But something held him back.

“The people of Quel’thalas deserve more than another corpse.” He spoke, whirling on the demon, stabbing Dentaxx in the eye.

The demon let out an unearthly hiss, high-pitched, full of agony. The entirety of reality around them splintered and shattered, until they were standing in pitch black, except for their own, physical forms. The Hound fell to the ground once more. Dead.

Terras blanked, he didn’t know what to do. It was dead, he had killed it just as he had during the ritual, but now he was unsure. Somewhere, deep in the recesses of his mind, he knew what must be done. His leg jerked forward, carrying him to the carcass. He had to eat the heart. He had to do it again.

And he did. He butchered the hound with one of the swords that he pried from its’ skull, ripping out viscera and feasting on its’ flesh this time. He took sick enjoyment from it, licking at his fingers as he reached for the heart. The meat was still warm as it slid down his throat. It was much easier this time around.

Then there was nothing.

He was on the floor. It was so cold, compared to his body. It almost felt refreshing. Someone was finishing up a chant, his throat felt raw, he choked on something-- wet. He spat up blood, his own blood, onto the stone floor. He’d been screaming so hard his throat had ruptured. But something was wrong, everything was black still, as if he were still dreaming. His fingers felt warm and wet, there was something squishy and jelly-like on one. Terras bit back the urge to vomit.

“He has done well, all things considered.” He recognized the voice, vaguely. It was the voice of one of the instructors, the male Kaldorei. He couldn’t remember a name. “Take him to the Sickhouse to recover.”

Arms wrapped around him, picking him up as if he were a very large doll. His head lolled back, and he allowed himself to slip back into nothingness.

#Terras.pdf #my_writing.png #demon hunter #illidari #bodily harm #character death

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acomplexjourney · 4 years

Text

Emergency Medicine

I just finished a crazy four weeks of emergency medicine. I know COVID-19 is on everyone’s minds right now and it is ever-present in my mind as well. I decided, however, with the hope of giving you all a break from the pandemic, I will focus on three non-COVID patients I encountered in the ER (well, at least probable non-COVID patients. I still wore a mask into every single patient’s room for protection.) I will say though that I agree with health authorities who are encouraging social distancing (or “spatial distancing,” which is a term my Dad recently heard in a priest’s online homily that I kind of like), practicing excellent hand hygiene, and protecting the elderly and people with underlying health conditions. For more on COVID-19, I would recommend the Atlantic article How the Pandemic Will End and for healthcare professionals, onepagericu.com.

Our first patient today is six-year-old girl with a cough and sore throat who I’ll call “Dora.” Dora was brought to the ER by her mother who was pretty sure the patient just had a cold, but wanted to be 100% certain that her daughter was alright. The moment I entered the exam room, Dora started to scream at me. I later learned that the nurses had already done a strep throat and flu/RSV nasal swab on this poor girl, so it made sense that she kept yelling “no” and quickly ran to the opposite corner of the room. Mom filled me in on the situation. The school nurse had sent the patient home because she was sick and since the pediatrician’s office was closed, the mother decided to bring the patient here. Dora had been having a cough, sore throat, runny nose, and tactile fevers for the past two days. She also had been more irritable than usual, even before she came to the ER. I suspected the patient only had a viral URI, but still carefully examined the patient. Fortunately, Registration had given the patient a teddy bear, so by examining the teddy bear first, I was able to get Dora to cooperate with most of the examination. Except for the ear exam, but that tends to be torture with a lot of little kids. With Mom’s help, I was eventually able to take a decent look at both eardrums to ensure that the patient did not have an ear infection. On that day, I was working with “Dr. Swiper,” who is one of the best ER docs I have worked with. She always began her day by “chart-checking” the patients she had seen her previous shift to see what had happened to them after they left the ER. I should not have been surprised then, when after presenting the patient as a straightforward viral URI, Dr. Swiper was not satisfied. “Do you think she has meningitis?” “No,” I replied, noting that the patient did not have a fever and there was no neck stiffness on exam. “What about peritonsillar abscess?” I replied that I had not looked for one, so Dr. Swiper calmly proceeded to search online for some good pictures of peritonsillar abscesses to show me. She noted that you can often spot it because of the deviated uvula. Later, after seeing the patient, Dr. Swiper agreed that it was most likely a straightforward URI. But I appreciated how she pushed me to think outside the box and to always keep these less likely diagnoses in mind. Too often, I have presented to attending physicians who shift uncomfortably in their seat and can’t seem to wait for the resident or student to finish presenting so they can move on to other things. I prefer the “Dr. Swipers” in the world who might make you feel dumb from time to time, but gently push you to become a better doctor.

Our next patient is a 46 year old woman (“Ms. M.”) who presented with a fall. My attending physician that day, “Dr. Boots,” (another very good ER doctor) sent me in to examine the patient. After I announced my presence and pulled aside the curtain, I saw Ms. M. seated comfortably on the stretcher wearing a black dress with purple trim under her hospital gown and a rainbow peace sign necklace. I asked Ms. M. what brought her to the ER that evening. She told me that around 8 AM when she got out of bed, she tripped over her cat and hit her head on the floor. Ms. M. did not lose consciousness and there was no wound on her head, but she did describe “feeling off” for the rest of the day. Later, around 5 PM, she tripped again, falling on her hands and knees. Since Ms. M. is not normally one who trips and falls around her house, she decided to come to the ER to be evaluated. As I asked Ms. M. more questions, it seemed unlikely that she had suffered a concussion. I confirmed that there were no visible wounds on her head and found nothing abnormal on neurological examination. The question remained whether Ms. M. needed a CT scan of her head? There is a Canadian physician named Dr. Ian Stiell who came up with the Canadian CT Head Rule for patients with minor head injury (you’ve gotta love that he named the rule after his country rather than himself). Dr. Stiell’s research showed that as many as 90% of head CT scans are negative for clinically important brain injuries. Thus, he and his colleagues came up with a yes/no questionnaire for physicians to use to help them determine whether a patient like Ms. M. really needs a CT scan. I went through the questionnaire with Ms. M. in her room and told her I would talk with Dr. Boots about the treatment plan. After presenting my findings to Dr. Boots (CT head rule score of zero, meaning CT scan is unnecessary), Dr. Boots agreed that a CT scan was probably unnecessary, but she was going to see the patient on her own first just to be sure. I started my note as Dr. Boots went to see the patient. When Dr. Boots returned, she told me that she elicited some neck tenderness on the patient, so I should order a head and neck CT “just in case.” I privately disagreed, but in medicine, it is frowned upon to openly disagree with an attending physician unless you have a really good reason to do so. And I honestly could not be 100% certain that this patient did not have a hidden head or neck injury without this imaging. When the CT of the patient’s head and cervical spine came back completely normal, I was happy for the patient, but also frustrated that I had been complicit in exposing Ms. M. to extra radiation and practicing what seemed like defensive medicine.

Our third and final patient is a 50 year old female (“Ms. D.”) with chest pain. She said it had been on/off for the past several weeks and sometimes radiated to her back. She came to the ER this morning because the pain woke her up from her sleep for the first time around 5 AM. Ms. D. had a history of high blood pressure, otherwise she was healthy. Patient denied nausea and had no shortness of breath. Her inital blood pressure was 170/100; her other vital signs were normal. EKG and chest x-ray showed no abnormal findings. Initial lab work showed a normal troponin; all of her other labs were normal as well. The patient was given aspirin and nitroglycerin, which relieved her chest pain a little bit. We then decided to give her a combination of Pepcid and Maalox thinking maybe Ms. D. had a bad case of acid reflux. At that point in the ED course, we were ready to check one more troponin and possibly send the patient home. But then Ms. D. mentioned to us that her mother had once had a brain aneurysm. Might an aneurysm be causing her pain? In an attempt to relieve the patient’s worry that we had failed to elicit earlier and to gather more clinical information, we ordered a CT angiogram of the chest. The hospital radiologist called us with the diagnosis: aortic dissection. An aortic dissection is a rare medical condition in which a tear forms in the aorta, the largest blood vessel in the human body. As the tear widens, blood builds up in between the walls of the aorta until it bursts. My attending physician and I were stunned by the diagnosis. We immediately called a cardio-thoracic surgeon and transferred the patient to a higher level of care.

The good news is the patient survived. For the medical people out there, Ms. D. had a “type A thoracic aortic dissection,” underwent surgery before rupture, and is now home with her family. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the case of Ms. D. and her dissection. The craziest part was that I did not even see the patient! “Dr. Swiper” did. The story above comes from her. Originally, two patients came into the ER at the same time. One had shortness of breath, one was Ms. D. and I had the choice of seeing either one. On a whim, I chose the patient with shortness of breath. It scares me to think of how things might have turned out differently if I had seen Ms. D. I like to think that I would have ordered the CT angiogram too, but I will never know for sure. There is a great episode of Scrubs called “My Butterfly” in which- SPOILER ALERT- a patient comes into the hospital and dies from an undiagnosed aortic dissection. J.D. then imagines what would have happened if they had caught the aortic dissection earlier, but the patient still unfortunately passes away (END SPOILER). In Ms. D.’s case, she did mention from the start that the chest pain “radiated to her back.” That is part of the classic presentation for aortic dissection that is taught in medical school, but would I have remembered it? Another concerning feature of this story is that Ms. D. did not mention she was worried about an aneurysm until about three hours after she had arrived. I am now making it a point to ask ER patients right away what they are worried about, since patients know their bodies better than their doctors do. The important and amazing thing though is that Ms. D. survived. Remember to keep aortic dissection on your differential diagnosis for chest pain!

That’s all for now. Stay healthy and safe everyone!

Note: identifying details have been changed to protect patient confidentiality

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