#again absolutely agree with lie down even if you can't sleep in most cases | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit · 3 years

Text

Feral Fatality

(Part 1)

So this has been in my works for a week now. You see, it was a typical day for me scrolling through Tumblr and visiting some....tags, and then a short drabble inspired me to write about a feral reader totally not because I was craving violence and murder no, which reached more than 4k words on the first draft so here we are! Shitty title, I know. The proofread work went over 7k, and it's not even finished yet. Once I'm done posting this and my main orc fic, I will get into the requests so please be patient!

Pairing: Jason Voorhees x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Brief blood and violence at the end of the first part

Contains: Swearing, mentions of neglect and abuse (not graphic)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Screams slit through the twilight as the frigid autumn wind blew harshly through the trees of Camp Crystal Lake. The rustling of bushes and cracking of twigs echoed as foolish teenagers attempted to escape, running for their lives when they were the ones who dared step foot in the place, tarnishing it with their sins.

Jason Voorhees, the innocent kid who died several years ago; pushed to the lake by his bullies and left to drown for being different and unsightly— all because the counselors were busy with their fucking business—, returned as an undead killing machine right after his mother murdered them and died. His sole purpose: to protect the land and purge the people who had no right to be here, sentencing them to a horrendous death.

One by one, they struck the ground, lifeless, either chopped into pieces, beheaded, or stabbed countless times by his trusty machete.

Limbs...ripped off with his bare hands.

The muffled snapping of branches reached your ears as the vehicle's wheels ran over them, stirring you from your nap. You rubbed your chilled skin under your clothes as you looked out of the window, thumping your forehead on the glass when you leaned forward the moment you saw the scenery. Trees, both ancient and young, their leaves varying in hues of green, orange and red, filled your line of sight. It was still early in autumn, your favorite time of the year, not hot but not too cold either. You watched in awe as the warm-colored leaves cascaded down from the branches and down to the ground, some carried by the wind farther from their origin.

The view did its best to distract you from a couple in session a seat before yours. They always seem to do that all the time, regardless of place or occasion.

This was a week-long getaway after graduation, they said.

Nothing but a white lie.

An excuse for the girls to hook up with their campus crushes, a week of fucking and smoking drugs.

You, however, just got invited —forced— by your "friend" Eloiza, the self-proclaimed hottest girl in the entire school, typical captain of the cheerleading squad; blonde and curvy. Her words were much too sugar-coated that even a deaf person could tell she had ulterior motives.

She only planned to use you as a tool to raise her fame. A stepping stone for her own gain.

That wasn't the only reason though.

Everyone knew who you were, but only by your name. News and rumors alike spread like wildfire through gossipy mouths. Your deeds were known throughout campus.

(Y/N)(L/N), top academic competitor and multiple-award winner, a straight-A student for five years in succession. Some believed you were a genius, the rest called you insane.

You wouldn't call yourself a genius though, you did not possess the obsessive need to acquire eternal knowledge and discover the secrets of the universe as most of them do, to effortlessly solve every problem that comes their way.

If that were the case, then you wouldn't be here in the first place.

You only love learning and indulging in the beauty of Mother Nature, plus a handful of hyper-fixations.

Fine, a buttload of hyper-fixations. And such came in handy in various situations.

You were unrivaled, not one of your peers could come close to your level of wit. Many people wished to have a brain like yours, and just as many hated you for even having one, praised you just as much as slandered your name and judged you.

Despite your reputation, the poor school didn't broadcast it, at least every time. The staff probably got tired of repeating the same phrase over and over again. Which caused more than half of the whole campus to never believe you to be the one behind all of that, laughing at your face when you said your name.

"You? The (Y/N) (L/N)? Ha! As if I'd fall for that! Everyone knows how she looks. You're the absolute opposite!"

"You got to be kidding me."

"You're a joker, aren't you? Is this a prank? If so please stop it, don't pretend like you're her."

Yep, and it goes on and on and on. They were right, you didn't look like someone who would win contests or excel in class.

You constantly wore clothes that hid your form, silent unless spoken to or asked to answer, distant and reserved, you preferred the company of books and nature to the rowdiness and prying hands of humans. A sociopath they deemed you. Quite an extreme word to use when you simply wanted to enjoy the only things that made you happy in this living hell.

You only know a handful of people who approached you first-hand and praised you genuinely, even asking for an autograph, which really surprised you.

Yet, they would never understand you even if you explained, because you can't, words evade you when it comes down to voice out what you feel. Even if you can, no one would care. And even if they did? You doubt it was real. Everyone wants to use you, and they seem to believe you'd let them. You didn't trust anyone. The last time you did only left you sobbing on the dirt.

You wanted to be left alone.

To connect with nature and get as far away as possible from your parents. Parents who kept shouting profanities at each other, the main cause for your depression and anxiety levels to skyrocket, the shaking turning into trembling, 7 hours of sleep to barely a blink.

That's why you agreed to go in the first place.

You hated your household—despised it— a mess of broken shards of bottles and ceramics littered your kitchen floor more often than not. You didn't bother cleaning it up anymore, your mother would just waste away her money on more things to break and throw them at your joke of a father when they fought anyway.

Not only that, you thought...No, you believed if you worked hard to be the best and win countless competitions, your parents would give you recognition and reconcile for your sake, but no, no, no. They didn't care one bit about you or your medals, it was as if you were never even included in their lives at all. Even birthday celebrations ceased to exist in everyone's books after your 13th.

So you gave up.

Down into the void, your wishful thinking went, that they'll become better people over time, that the attention and love you deserve will be given one day. Instead, you wallowed yourself in your studies, besting everyone in everything academic. Oh, but you weren't athletic. Far from it. Damn, you were getting thin and sleep-deprived from being neglected, dark circles under your eyes every time you looked at your reflection. People hating your existence wasn't helping, some teachers even suspected you of cheating.

There's no way in hell you'd let yourself get dragged down to end up like them! You were of legal age now, a fresh graduate from high school, you doubt your parents even knew that since they didn't fucking show up on your graduation day. You were moving out of that shithole of a town. Anywhere is better than where they breathed and spat their poison.

And so here you are. Standing in this breath-taking and mysterious place. Camp Crystal Lake, it is named, secluded, barely touched by modernization as it is hidden between mountains and trees as far as the eye could see. Not to mention its namesake, the lake, you imagined it would mirror the sky, be it day or night. You loved it, you adored the fresh, breathable air that went through you the moment you stepped out of the van.

You also knew about him.

Resolved to never go back to that goddamned house, you took everything you had and needed; the special little trinkets you've collected through the years shoved into a box, the few clothes you had, art materials, and your precious books carefully packed inside a big travel bag, along with your stocked up canned goods, convenience food, snacks, and toiletries.

And other, important things.

You hauled your baggage out of the van and got off, immediately moving to the side and away from everyone.

You got used to people ignoring you that you didn't care anymore.

Why waste your time with them when you can have all of it to yourself?

Eloiza led the group into the larger cabins, the others went straight into the lake for a swim. You even notice some teens disappear into the trees, most likely for a quickie.

In return, you stayed out of their way, fully satisfied being invisible and with your own company as you trudged to a cabin, the one you caught a glimpse of earlier in the van. It was a long way's separated from the rest, closest to the forest and hidden behind a few trees.

You were panting when you finally stopped in front of it, clearly not used to walking long distances and carrying stuff near as heavy as your weight.

Upon closer inspection, you found yourself gaping at its appearance. The wooden walls lost their color as they aged, white and brown mushrooms grew on the ground along with green moss sticking to the beams, and a few vines crawling their way up and on the roof. Despite all of that, the cabin looked sturdy still.

There's this "one with nature" vibe that drew you to it, like a string pulling you closer and inviting you. Ominous most would say, but you almost cried when the rich scent of earth and oxygen filled your lungs as you took one big inhale, sighing in content for once. It was a lot smaller compared to the others, but you didn't care. As long as you were left alone with your stuff you were a-okay.

Perfect.

You turned the knob and peeked inside, letting out a small gasp and opening the door wider to see the whole thing.

Old as it is, it was proper and neat, regardless of the tiny cobwebs on the upper corners. A small, square dining table sat in the middle of the first part of the place, two wooden stools placed underneath. There were cupboards on the wall and a simple sink with an empty space to the side. You went to the next room, doorless and separated with but a wall of thick plywood. It had a single bed in the corner, off-white cotton sheets sitting atop, not a wrinkle in sight. No pillow though. There's a decent-sized closet along with a small table on one side of the bed. One of the windows had a hole in the middle, a ray of sunlight streaming in through the cracks. It was too big for the size of a gunshot, so maybe a rock.

A bit hesitant, your fingers traced the wood, feeling the inconsistent texture. When you went through the back door, your smile reached your ears when trunks of trees and bushes greeted you...

Wait, is that what you think it is?

Stepping closer to the treeline, your jaw dropped when you spotted a thicket of fruit-bearing plants past them, gathered in a tiny clearing.

Blueberries.

Purple little cuties poked out of the green shrubs, sporting a vibrant hue that caught your eye. The sun shone overhead and providing the energy they needed. Blueberries managed to grow in the area despite the trees fencing them.

Tempted and suspicious, you crouched down, inspecting the shrub if it really was a blueberry plant and not a deadly doppelganger. Once you were sure it was, (it would be hilarious if you simply died from nighshade poisoning), you plucked one and brought it to your mouth. It was sweeter than you expected, with a slightly bitter aftertaste. You hummed in delight, wiping the juice with your thumb when it dribbled out, staining your finger and lips.

You didn't want to anger anybody. Hell, coming here was already trespassing, so you didn't push your luck and left it alone, hoping they'd forgive you for picking one. They surely didn't look wild with the way they lined up.

You scanned the rest of the area, eventually going back inside to unpack after your little evaluation.

The sun was a hand's away from setting when you finished. Pride swelled in your chest at the work you did, your things stocked and organized with care inside the cabinets and drawers. You won't have to worry about your food for now as cupboards were filled to the brim with them. You also had a decent amount of money left from your savings account that your parents weren't aware of. Prize money, allowance, and the salary you got from doing online jobs all went into it. The camp was a few miles off the road, and a couple more to the nearest gas station with a convenience store. Very far yes, but it's better than living with the people who made you do this in the first place.

You just hoped you wouldn't die walking.

Everything was worth it, anyways. You were free now, at least that's what you think.

You trudged to the bed, eyeing the cushions, wary and a little scared to touch the sheets that appeared to be cleaned just recently, you didn't even lay a finger on them ever since you got inside. Oh, but your tired muscles were screaming to just flump down and relax.

So you did.

You dumped yourself face first and inhaled. It wasn't smelly nor fragrant, just the simple freshness on the cotton fabric. You felt beat but ain't sleepy, yet, so you reached to the drawer beside the bed and pulled out a book to pass the time as you waited for the sun to go down and give way for the moon. Its spine and pages had creases, worn out and yellow-stained from age and use. It was a horror-mystery novel told through a first-person narrative, a story of a middle-aged detective and her Maine coon in their attempts to solve a murder case of a young European lady named Cassandra Chase.

You dozed off in the middle of chapter 21, the part where Dinnie, the cat, discovers a valuable clue to the crime, a rotten limb in the dried basement well.

—

Jason settled down on the stairs of his porch; shoulders relaxed and hunched as he leisurely sharpened his machete with a small whetstone. Lines of sunlight kissed him through the leaves of trees, the birds in the area chirped on their perches, and the grass swayed, gentle, as a cool wind passed by.

His day be so fine. No troublemakers to deal wi—

The alarm rang, announcing unwelcomed arrival. As if a switch flipped inside, he's already on his feet, making his way swiftly to their location.

A new batch of wretched youngsters, another day ruined. Hunting them down makes his blood thrum in his veins, yes, but they soured his mood, just when he was at peace. He's dead set on slaughtering them in the most gruesome ways possible, only then he could go back and enjoy the serenity the nature around him brings.

He surveyed the area, camouflaging with the wilderness, silent as he watched and counted the soon-to-be corpses, his mother's voice at the back of his mind, guiding him.

They decided to go either to the main cabins, or the lake...even into the trees.

All but one.

Jason already planned to cut down the couple later as they lose themselves in the forest, doing nasty, dirty things to his camp. The killer shifted his attention to you, curious as to why you didn't join the lot. Instead, you walked back down the road. He followed and saw you approach the small cabin, separated from the rest, your eyes widened...

Adoration?

You were quiet— except for the little gasps of awe you let out in between pants—as you looked around and over the place. The ones you came with were rowdy and destructive, a complete opposite. He hid as he observed you from afar, moving around to adjust his vision on you. You smiled every time you looked to the trees, he noticed.

Why were you smiling like that? Why did you pick this cabin? Were you planning on defiling it?

The last question in his mind made his blood boil. He'll kill you first if that was the case. That cabin you chose was special, it was where he and his mother used to stay. He occasionally visits that one to keep it clean and free of dust. If you even think of—

Jason, sweetie...look closer. She does not have such intentions.

His mother's words rang in his head. Even from where he stood, he could see what you did inside. You looked a little hesitant, touching and drawing back your hand before letting your fingers feel the wood as if it was something delicate. Despite the initial...shyness? You proceeded to make it your home, somewhat, dropping the large duffel bags you carried on your front and back, and a similarly large roller case on your left. It was as if you planned to stay for a long time.

Jason hears you take a long breath and sigh as you went out the backdoor. You grinned wider when you saw the nature around you. You stepped forward, straight in his direction...

For a moment he thought you saw him, seeing your jaw drop. You moved closer, and he just froze there, until you crouched down.

Oh, his plants.

He watched you as you gently picked a fruit, your gaze...soft. You brought it to your mouth, some of the juice spilling on the side and you wiped it with your thumb.

Cute.

You went back inside and continued to unpack your things, carefully maneuvering around the cabin.

Maybe he'll spare you if you continue to be good. You didn't do anything dirty, yet. It's only a matter of time before the camp is shrouded in darkness and his hunt will begin.

Let's see what you'll do before that happens.

Jason tracked down the three that went into the forest. He knew the place like the back of his hand, and it was easier to pinpoint them as he heard moans.

What he saw was utmost disgusting, two girls pleasuring a male with their mouths in broad daylight.

Kill them, my boy! Such foul beings need to die! Kill them, kill!

He circled them, steps soundless. Jason gripped his machete and brought it down the guy's neck, embedding the weapon into the bark, the head rolled down, oozing with blood, and fell against the women, drenching them in red. Not a single cry left from their mouths as he sliced both with one swing, blood pouring out of their throats and staining the ground. Jason dragged their bodies and tossed them into a pit he dug beforehand, making quick work in burying them.

A swift end. Now he waits.

#jason voorhees x reader #jason x reader #friday the 13th #blood #violence #slatra #lmao #my writing #fiction #horror #slasher x reader #feral reader #slasher x fem!reader #reader insert #slasher fic #slasher x reader fic #jason voorhees #friday the 13th fic

51 notes · View notes

coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe · 3 years

Text

Dark and Twisted or Fighting Love

Quick Tag List: @kuruumiya @spacelizardtrashboys @stupidbluegirl @enigmaticandunstable @nattinngrst

This Passage contains potentially: swearing, violence, blood, angst, whump, fluff and very smutty content.

Summary: Kirby and Roddy push their relationship boundaries a step too far and actually appear on television together but not as a couple.

Kirby's POV:

Rod cut me off my stopping the car again, and pulling me into a heated kiss, lips locked with mine and his right hand tangled in my hair, slipping his tongue into my mouth for a second before pulling away for air.

"Don't tell me what to do, or I'll pin you to the seat and shag you till neither of us can walk tomorrow."

"You wouldn't." I mumbled, incredulous to what he had just said.

"Oh, I would. I absolutely would."

"Rod, can't you wait until Valentine's day?"

"Oh sure, but where would be the fun in that?"

"Roddy!" I glared at him, eyes locked.

"Yes, sweetheart." He meeped, backing off

"You handsome fool" I whispered, pulling him into a kiss.

The moment I tried to pull away, he pulled me back in, deepening the kiss and whispering out small 'I love you's' between each breath, slowly pushing me down against the upholstered seat bed of the D200

He pinned me underneath him, legs either side of my own, left arm curled around my back and his right hand playing with my hair, I had my right hand against the floor of the car and my left against his lower back, just underneath his T-shirt. Due to our positioning I could feel Roddy's chest rise and fall with each breath, fast and uncontrolled, much like Rod himself. I moved my left hand slightly further up his back, towards the middle of his shoulder blades and stopped mid-way, feeling not just Rod's chest but another part of him rise too.

"You're trying to set me off, aren't ya." He whispered, accusatory.

"Rod, if I knew how to avoid your 'Loch Ness monster' believe me, I would, f'anwylyd."

"What's that mean?"

"My dearest."

"Ya won't be calling me that after ya hear the bagpipes."

"Rod, shame on you, I like bagpipe music, and anyway, it's not like you could be any worse than Erik."

I should not have mentioned his name, as it sent Rod right back into a frenzy of kisses and sweet words, it wasn't until Rod's hips bucked into mine that he realised what he was doing.

"Ya mentioned him on purpose."

"I did no such thing. You just can't control yourself when you get jealous. admit it."

"Never, me, jealous, never in a million years."

"Would you like to hear about Erik and My first weekend together."

"What do you mean together?" he half whispered, half growled, "Wait, I don't wanna hear about that geek."

"Are ya sure?"

His hips rolling against mine answered before his mouth got the chance. I couldn't stop myself from trying to see what making him jealous would do to him and so, I egged him on further.

"Y'know Erik would take me out to graveyards and we would walk through them all alone."

He growled and kissed my neck.

"And he would buy me cases of beer and bottles of wine and he'd cook somethin' just for the two of us."

Another growl but this time he kissed my jawline and his hips were pressed firmly against mine, letting me feel just how 'hard' I had gotten him.

I decided to see if a lie about just how romantic Erik and me were with each other would push him over the edge "And the way he kissed me, and the way he-"

Roddy cut me off with a rough kiss and his hips bucking against mine, hard enough to bruise, or at least hard enough to feel like it bruised me. He shifted his position so he could hold one of my legs up and push his groin further against my own.

"Rod, I'm just messin' with ya on that last one." I admitted, sending him further into this passionate rage, and making me have to bite my lip to avoid yelping out his name when he bit the flesh on my collarbone.

"Never lie to me again," He growled, pumping his hips against mine, cloth against cloth but, with no doubt, kilt against bare flesh underneath.

Rod had leant backwards, sitting up against my lap, removing his shirt and tossing it to the floor of the D200, before edging up the hem of my own shirt. I relented, removing both my jacket and tank top, letting Rod explore my chest with his hands, his warm hands against my cool flesh made me jump slightly, Rod's eyes looked as if they would bulge out of his head at a moments notice.

"Oh, baby."

"Roddy, are ya alright."

"I think I'm in Heaven."

I let out a giggle and Rod started fumbling with his belt and the buckles on his kilt.

"I don't think this can wait 'til Valentines."

I leant up to meet him, face to face, kissing him, "Rod, if you want this, then let's stop off at a store, get some 'stuff' and go back to the hotel."

"Oh, absolutely. I mean," He grabbed his shirt and readjusted himself, "I wouldn't want to ruin the seats, or worse, get ya pregnant."

I reached over to where my shirt had landed and felt Roddy's hand travel up my back and unbuckle my bra.

"You fucker." I groaned in an annoyed tone.

He chuckled to himself before I felt both of his hands brush against my back and heard the small 'click' of my bra being re-buckled.

"Thank you, Roddy." I whispered, putting my tank top back on, but leaving my jacket on the floor.

He started the car and placed his hand on my thigh, I pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and he looked over at me before driving us to a nearby gas station.

"Uh, Roddy, Roddy no."

"Whaddya mean, no, we get a box of condoms from he-"

"From a fucking GAS STATION?!"

"What's wrong with my idea?"

"You expect me to let you get a box of condoms, from a gas station, y'know a place where I wouldn't even trust the food, let alone the prophylactics."

We locked eyes for a moment and Rod proceeded to park and get out of the car, with me following close behind him.

"Rod."

"Go back to the car and fill the tank."

"Roderick."

He spun around, placing a kiss on my cheek, "Go back to the car, fill the tank. I love you and would never hurt you. Ok?"

"Okay."

I fast walked back to the car and did exactly as Roddy said, I filled the tank and grabbed my wallet from inside the car, heading into the small and shoddy looking building and meeting up with Roddy.

"Ya filled the tank?" He asked, passing me the box of condoms and proceeding to scan the shelves and grabbing a case of beer.

"Yes, you are not getting drunk, Roddy. Roderick put the beer back."

"No, and anyway, we're not getting drunk."

"Oh, really."

"At least not before I make love to ya."

We walked over to the counter and I paid despite Rod's insistence, going back to the car and headed back to the hotel, rushing up the stairs and into our shared room. Rod locked the door behind us and pushed me onto the bed, crawling over me to pin me down, kissing me roughly and gently pressing his groin against mine, still fully clothed.

He sat up and pulled his shirt off, tossing it behind him and started edging my own shirt off of me, letting me whip it off my body and throwing it over to where his own shirt had landed.

"Do ya really want me?"

I gazed up at Roddy, realising he was asking consent to let him try and shag my brains out, I let out a soft, "Yes, Roddy, yes."

That was all he needed, he set to 'work' kissing my neck and grinding against me, I could feel the heat radiating off his body and the tension building in his groin, feeling the bulge under his kilt getting harder and bigger, until he got off me and whipped his kilt off, exposing his already erect member and grabbing a condom, I looked away and let my head hit the pillows, shifting myself so I was comfortable, removing my trousers and boxer shorts.

I felt Rod climb back over me, aligning himself with me and easing himself in, his shorter frame against my 'oversized' body. I gasped and he stopped immediately, putting his left hand against my jawline.

"Ya alright?"

"I'm fine, I just…"

I couldn't put my thoughts into words but he nodded, fully understanding that it would take some time for me to get used to him, as it was my first time being with anyone. In a weird way I felt glad that my first time was with Roddy, sure he could be hot headed, but I felt as though I could trust him with my whole life.

He eased himself into a steady rhythm of pumping in and out, grunting and groaning in pleasure, I bit my lip, not wanting to put him off the rhythm he had gotten into but also wanting him to go faster or harder, to roughen it up slightly as it was starting to feel to, for lack of a better word, clinical.

"Rod."

"Yes, baby."

"Could you go, rougher?" I quizzed, hoping he'd get the hint.

He quickened his pace, his breathing fastened along with it, the headboard hitting the wall and I found myself unable to keep myself from moaning out small 'Oh God's and 'Yes's as Rod pounded into me with each stroke. We had promised each other we would wait, but truth be told, I'm glad we broke that promise, feeling Rod's flesh against my own was the most intimate I'd ever been with anyone and I was glad it was him.

He kissed me and groaned in relief, I could feel his hips bucking into mine urgently, as if he were trying to bury himself in me, no doubt finding that release, it wasn't too long later when I got my own release upon feeling Roddy's fingers graze my groin, hearing Rod grunt out my name under his breath.

"Roddy."

"Yes, my love."

"Let's only do that again when we want to have kids."

"Agreed." He breathlessly replied.

He got himself cleaned up and I quickly passed out after feeling a haze of tiredness wash over me.

I woke up on the morning of the Twenty-Third to the smell of coffee and Rod pacing back and forth, some of my clothes laid out on the end of the bed.

"Mornin' Kirbs."

"What's wrong?"

I wiped the sleep from my eyes and went about my normal routine, watching as Roddy went back to pacing back and forth. I changed, putting on the clothes laid out at the bottom of the bed. Walking down to the arena rather than driving, with our gym bags over our shoulders I felt Rod reach over and intertwine his fingers with mine.

After both Orndorff and my own matches against Bellomo and Rodz respectively, there was a dual Interview with myself, Roddy and Orndorff being interviewed by Gene.

"We're here with 'Mr Wonderful', Paul Orndorff, 'Rowdy' Roddy Piper and the tallest female professional wrestler Kirby 'Gluttony' Lucifarian."

Rod sized me up as I stood stoically beside Gene.

"You talk about height, you talk about her being the tallest female professional wrestler."

"Well now, you are the tallest aren't you, miss Lucifarian?"

"Yes. Gene," I covered Rod's mouth with my hand effectively silencing him before he got a chance to interrupt, "I am Six-Foot-Eight, the tallest woman and the only woman who can fight any man you put me against, Rodz was nothing, one day I will get my hands on someone who's actually a challenge." I removed my hand and Rod was already getting angry.

"You want a challenge? I'll give you a challenge."

I walked off, leaving Orndorff to hold Piper back.

"Come back here and face me you coward!"

Gene ended the interview quickly and Rod ran up to me, while I was talking to André.

"You're getting good out there."

"Drey, Rodz not that tough. I need a real challenge."

"Like who?"

"I dunno, maybe Rocky Johnson, Atlas or St-"

"What was that back there?!"

"Oh, hi Roddy."

André took the opportunity to avoid Piper by walking away rather quickly for his size.

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"You covered my mouth with your hand."

"Yeah, and you would've interrupted me, what about it?"

"Did you have to be wearing the same perfume as last night?"

"Oh, that's not perfume Rod, that would be the body wash I use, it's apricot, why?"

"Kirby, Imagine you're a guy with a sex drive for a moment. Now imagine your hot as sin girlfriend covering your mouth with her hand. Now add in the fact that you remember that scent on her skin from when you were having sex the night before."

"Oh, I got you hot, Rod?"

"Never make me wanna do that again."

"Do what?"

"Have sex, with you, in the locker room."

I fake gagged and Rod shook the 'cobwebs' from his mind, clearly wanting to forget that mental image.

END OF DARK AND TWISTED or FIGHTING LOVE

#wrestling fic #Lucifarians

3 notes · View notes

gwentoryfics · 4 years

Note

TMI: all of my female friends and me included have a hard time reaching an orgasm while sleeping with someone for the first few times, especially if there's not much foreplay or clit stimulation during sex. I know that there's women out there who reach their orgasms easily and just through penetration, but the majority of women I know can't, and especially not when they don't know a dude. It takes a lot for me to cum and trust plays a big role in it so I can't relate to most orgasms sadly lmao

anonymous said: I dont know if this falls under unrealistic smut but somehow every fictional virgin girl has a mind blowing orgasm when she loses her virginity. Most girl friends I talked to were very tense and said it was super awkward and they didn’t even come close, and even the ones who said that it was a nice experience did not cum for the first few times they had sex.

anonymous said: This isn’t a pet peeve or a turn off but sadly I can’t relate to overstimulation or multiple orgasms. When I have an orgasm and I start to come down again, I don’t want anything or anyone near my clit for at least 20 minutes. It’s actually really painful if someone touches my clit before it calmed down again. So yeah, also TMI but 🤷🏻‍♀️ lol

First of all, thank you anons for reaching out about this topic. I think it’s a natural point of conversation when talking about smut writing, and I love that the three of you are willing to share your experience. Thank you for that. 💕

I agree on all of these points. Women statistically have a MUCH harder time orgasming from penetration alone, and trust is an important factor in the whole experience. First times are usually not great because of nerves, so it’s definitely unrealistic when a first-time smut scene is full of mind-blowing orgasms. And a lot of people get incredibly sensitive after an orgasm, and so just one is plenty. I have a similar experience with all three of those things!

WARNING: nice long post under the cut about my experience with orgasms. Just sharing my personal experience because I think it’s important to talk about, even though it’s something I’ve felt a lot of embarrassment and shame about for a long time.

basic tl;dr - I’ve had trouble with orgasming for years for a number of reasons, and because of my anxieties about sex I use smut writing as an escape, and as a way to vicariously live out my desired sex life through my characters.

Let me start off by sharing that I’m currently 25, turning 26 in a few months. I started becoming sexually active around 14, but I didn’t have penis-in-vagina sex until I was 16. I think that time range is important to understand.

So all in all, I’ve been active for about 10-11 years. I’ve been touched with the goal of orgasm by six different people (plus another long-distance partner who never actually touched me, but Skype/phone sex is a thing). Across all of that, I’ve had probably less than 10 orgasms when a partner is involved, and all of those orgasms have only happened with the same person - my current boyfriend. That’s a lot of years and a lot of sex for a handful of orgasms.

I had my first orgasm when I was 19. I didn’t know my body could do that. I went to college and bought my first vibrator, and it gave me the tiniest little orgasm. I wasn’t even sure that it had really happened. But it did and I was just like, “Oh. Neat.” Not even close to mind-blowing.

Since then, I’ve been able to give myself much better and stronger orgasms, but the vast majority of the time I’m able to orgasm only if a vibrating/sucking toy is involved (oml my sucking toy is my absolute favorite, I highly recommend). Rarely, my hands are good enough. The first orgasm I ever had with a partner and without a toy happened just over two years ago, and that was the night I discovered that I enjoy riding my boyfriend’s face lol.

I’m sure most of us are aware of the statistics surrounding female orgasms - how we generally have a lot more trouble reaching orgasm than males for a variety of reasons. This is a very real thing and I know I’m not alone in struggling with this.

Personally, I think my struggle comes from my anxious personality. I put a lot of pressure on myself to perform during sex, to make sure that I look good and sound good and appear attractive to my partner. I think that probably comes from the fact that I started looking at porn when I was twelve. It seemed to me like there was a way that sex was supposed to happen, and a way that females were supposed to be during sex. So I tried my best to make sure my partners always saw me in that light - even to the point of faking orgasms left and right to make the boys feel better about themselves.

It was easier & less scary to just fake it than it was to explain that I didn’t really feel anything. I figured that me putting up with a lack of orgasms was better than the blow they’d take to their egos if I told them I wasn’t into what was happening. Even worse - I was afraid that if I told them I wasn’t feeling anything, they’d think there was something wrong with me.

So let’s see… I faked my first orgasm when I was 16. Not sure if I did it the day I had sex for the first time, but it definitely started with that partner. Four partners & five years later, I was forced to stop. My faking had gotten out of control, to the point where if I wasn’t faking multiple orgasms every single time we had sex, my boyfriend thought I wasn’t enjoying myself. And then he started to doubt that I could even orgasm so frequently, and he confronted me about it. I decided to be honest, thinking that it was finally time for me to own up and try to reclaim my sexuality for myself.

He was insecure. I was insecure. He was upset that I had lied for so long, and I was upset that he wasn’t more understanding about it. We almost broke up, but we didn’t.

That was the summer of 2015. He and I are still together and have been dating for over six years now, and I love him more than anything. But the years of pressure and faking have seriously messed with me and most of the time I struggle to even want sex because I have so much anxiety about it. We’ve gone through a lot of dry spells while I’ve tried to work my shit out, and it’s a process. I’m trying to be more confident about sex and comfortable with whatever my body wants or needs in order to feel pleasure - and COMMUNICATING those things, that’s probably the hardest part. I totally clam up when I should be able to easily tell the love of my life what he can do to drive me wild.

Fuck anxiety, man.

And there are certainly other things that have played into my overall sex anxiety, like all the negative messages I received from my parents, schooling, and peers about sex, and the incredible fear I have surrounding getting pregnant or contracting STIs. Above all, the fear of judgment reigns supreme, and it has gotten in the way of so many aspects of my life - sexuality included.

This is probably way more than I actually needed to share, but this is all so that I can rationalize the way that I write.

I understand how difficult it is for a lot of women to reach orgasm frequently, and I know firsthand the shame and disappointment that can come from a lack of orgasm. For such a long time, I’ve felt like my body is broken. Like no one would be interested in putting in the time and encouragement I need to make an orgasm happen.

That’s not the story I want to write.

For me, the sex scenes I write are a fantasy. It’s a wonderful picture of what I want my sex life to be like. I want positivity, I want orgasms, I want to be wild with lust for another person. Yes, those things can sometimes border unrealistic (still kind of cringing over the fact that I included squirting in HFT), but that’s what makes it fun for me. It’s an escape.

I’ve toyed with writing a realistic virgin smut scene that doesn’t include a female orgasm, but I just don’t want to (don’t worry, anon, I know that you’re not actually asking me to do that). I don’t want to try to navigate the character’s emotions/thoughts when she doesn’t have an orgasm. I’ve already done that FOR YEARS in real life, and it’s been nothing short of painful and upsetting.

That’s just not something I can make myself do, no matter how realistic it is for the majority.

I want to write characters who are comfortable with their bodies, and partners who are fully invested in making it a shared experience. It feels like if I write about it enough, I can eventually make that my reality.

I won’t apologize for writing an unrealistic number of female orgasms in my stories (and I don’t think that any of the anons here are asking for an apology, anyway). I will continue to write frequent orgasms with the hope that all of you lovely ladies out there will understand that YOU HAVE A RIGHT TO ORGASM. Your orgasm is not less important than your partner’s orgasm. ESPECIALLY with heterosexual sex - his cum is not the goal. It’s a shared experience, and you should get just as much pleasure from it. You’re allowed to want that, pursue that, demand that.

If you struggle with orgasms, it’s okay. You’re not broken. Bodies and minds are complicated. There’s nothing wrong with you.

And please, I beg you - don’t start faking. Don’t do that to yourself. It’s an injustice to both you and your partner to lie about your experience. If I had talked honestly with my partners about this, I could have reached a more positive place in my sexuality a lot sooner. Just try to be open with your partners, and if that’s a difficult thing for you to do, then try to think about why that might be the case.

I know I just threw a lot out there. But I want you all to know that my blog is a safe space and you all are absolutely more than welcome to reach out to me at any time if you want advice or validation, or if you just need to share your experience with someone. If you want to ask questions about my experiences, ask away. I’ll be an open book for you all so that we can try to normalize having healthy conversations about sex.

#personal #sex talks with gwen #sex advice

2 notes · View notes

casual-penguin-bouquets-pos-blog · 5 years

Text

Little Sister

Pairing: Dean x sister!reader(no incest), mention of Sam x sister!reader(no incest)

Summary: The Winchesters' little sister feels like a burden and Dean comforts her.

Warnings: Crying(should that be considered a warning???), sadness, a bit of angst , thought of being a burden, i think thats it (let me know if there's anything else I should include in the warnings)

Requested: yes/no

A/n: This is the first fic I've written, so bare with me if its a bit cringe worthy. It would also be a tremendous help if you were able to give me a little bit of feedback on how I can improve. Also, check out the bottom of the post and send requests!!! Thanks and ily! 🖤💚🖤

Tears flowed down your cheeks as you walked into the old, dirty motel you and your brothers were staying in. The three of you usually try to make the sleeping situation work. The boys usually get the beds and you have to sleep in the dirty, smelly, stained couch. But you don't always mind. In fact, you almost never care. As long as your brothers are somewhat content, you are too.

Like you expected, they weren't there. You know they weren't at a bar because its only 3:27pm, so you assumed they were doing their usual routine. Dean questions the victim(s) and witness(es) while Sam is either with Dean or doing research in a nearby library.

You sat at the table and pulled out your binder and textbook to start on some of the homework your science teacher assigned. You started to work, but also started to struggle. You couldn't focus. Your mind was blank. No thoughts, no feelings, no emotions, nothing. Just emptiness. You knew what this was, but your brothers didn't. You knew you had some kind of depression and anxiety, not as bad as it could be, but its not something that you think will just pass in a few days, or even weeks. No... this has been with you for probably about 6 months and your brothers don't suspect a thing. You want to keep it that way too. You don't want to have to be even more of a burden and have your brothers worry even more, so you kept quiet. You wiped away your tears and sat up straight, and attempted to finish your work.

"Oh hey, y/n." Dean said, walking into the motel room in his FBI suit.

"Hey" you mumbled back, not wanted to talk.

"You okay, bug?" He said with concern in his voice.

"Yeah, just tired." You used the lie that everyone uses, not putting in any effort to make up a different lie.

"You always say that. That's not true is it? You're not actually tired, are you?" Crap... he's catching on...

"Uhh, no, I'm really just tired. I swear." Now your anxiety was coming into play. You don't know how he'd act if he found out.

"Don't lie to me. I know something's wrong. There's been something off about you for a while now. You know you can talk to me and Sam, right? We're here for you."

"Yeah, I know I can talk to y'all, but it's hard to sometimes." I'm just gonna get it over with and tell him. What could go wrong, right?

"I know what you mean. When I got out of Hell, I refused to talk about it. But then Sam reminded me that we're family and we're here to take care of each other. So, y/n, please tell me what's going on."

"You really want to know what's upsetting me?"

"Yeah, I really do. I wanna make sure that you're okay."

"I think I'm a burden to you and Sammy. I feel like I'm just in the way. You always worry about me and you take care of me and make sure I'm getting good grades and eating and getting sleep but you shouldn't have to. You shouldn't have to worry about me. I don't matter. Not like you two do. You two have saved the world more times than I can count and I know that you'll continue to do so until you breathe your final breath. But me, I don't do anything. I sit here, in the motel room doing homework or something that has absolutely nothing to do with the case." You were almost sobbing by now, while Dean watched you rant with tears in his green eyes.

"Y/n... that's not true. None of th-" He started to talk, but you cut him off.

"No! Don't lie to me! Don't pity me and tell me that it's not true when you know it is!" You hated being pitied. It made you feel worse about yourself.

"Y/n! Calm down and let me talk." You knew he only yelled to get you to calm down, so you weren't worried that he was mad.

"O-okay." You wiped your tears with your sleeve and and tried to control you breathing as both of you walk over and sit on one of the beds. Dean wraps his arm around, you and you feel of his tears land on the top of your head. He's crying... because he cares.

"Y/n, you are not a burden. Not even close. I think I can say that you are the best thing that has ever happened to both me and Sam, okay? We worry about you because we want what's best for you. We make sure you get good grades so that you can go to college and do something with your life. If Sammy was here, I know he'd tell you the same exact thing. And believe it or not, me and Sammy have talked about it. You going to a good school and everything."

You look up at him when he said this. "Really?"

"Yeah, we both agreed that we want you to get through highschool and go to a good college. We want you to get a good job, find a guy that we approve of, and mabye even have a couple kids. We want you to get out of this life y/n. That's why we never ask you to go on hunts or help with a case, because we dont want you to get even the slightest bit involved more than you already are. You deserve better than this, y/n."

You shocked to say the least. You always thought that they didn't want you around, kr didn't want your help, but they just wanted better for you. If you were being honest, everything Dean just told sounds like Heaven to most hunters, but you're a Winchester, so you're not 'most hunters.' You would enjoy being out of this hunting life, but you know it won't happen. Again, you're a Winchester, so no matter what you do or where you go, something will follow. Knowing this, you make a sudden decision.

"Dean, we both know that won't be possible. Trouble follows us wherever we go and no matter what we do, we wouldn't be able to get them to leave us alone. It sounds lovely, having an apple pie life, but it won't happen. Instead, I want to help. I want to help save the world with you guys. I want to train, to do research, and to go on hunts with y'all."

Dean looks at you with sad eyes, knowing tjat you're right. You won't be able to have such luxury because of what you do and what your father dragged the three (more like four but they forgot Adam ) of you into.

"You're right, but we just want what's best for you. We want to make sure that you stay safe at all times. We want you to be protected."

"I know, Dean. That's why you and Sammy can train me, and show to do things. I can start by helping Sam with research and you can teach me how to you a pistol and a rifle, and we'll start out with the little things. Then, eventually, I'll be able to go on hunts with y'all."

"I can't make any promises, ans don't get too excited, but I can talk to Sam and see what he thinks about your little plan. I don't thinks it's that bad of an idea, but me and Sammy have to agree, okay?"

You don't have much to say anymore due to the fact that you just let everything that you kept bottled up for a while out, so you simply say "Thank you" and hug him tighter than you have in a while, and bury you face into his neck, feeling safe in your brother's arms.

THE END

Please send requests!

#supernatural x reader #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x sister!reader #sister #sister!reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x sister!reader #dean x reader #dean x sister #sam x reader #sam x sister #winchester!reader #winchesterbrothers

20 notes · View notes