leather strap back

SJM guy aesthetics


brass buckles polished until they gleam, the warmth of a roast dinner, warm smiles that reach his eyes, hair ruffled from riding in the wind, hugs that feel like home, eyes filled with steely determination, subtle tightening of his shoulders when he’s annoyed, strong hands that hold yours gently but firmly, wearing plain well fitted t shirts on days off, the crunch of leaves under his feet on morning runs, shiny leather boots with dirty soles, always wearing a belt, never wearing a tie


sparkling eyes and cheeky smirks, perfect fingernails, clothes so well fit they look like they were made for him (they probably were), frosted glass on cold winter mornings, warm room with cold tiles, bookshelves that look messy but have their own strange organisation system, cold hands and warm smiles, absentmindedly biting his lip when he’s concentrating, the relief of sinking into an armchair after a long day, perfectly polished shoes that always match his outfit, always being the big spoon, hugs from behind with his arms wrapped around your waist


eyes that catch every movement, muscled back, the cool shade of massive trees on a sunny day, unblinking stare, weapons always within arms reach, watching Aelin when she reads, never letting anyone see him cry but her, the smell of pine trees, the crystal glare of sun on undisturbed snow, old leather bound books, rough calloused hands, the ocean smashing against the rocks during a storm, climbing trees in a matter of seconds


the whine of metal and against metal, loud laughter, running his hands through his hair, trying to cook and it turning out terrible or amazing depending on the day, smiling at kids in the street, nights spent by the campfire telling stories, fiercely loyal, cheeky grins, always covered in scrapes and bruises, tight hugs, honest and open conversations, scuffed boots and polished weapons, cobblestones warmed from the sun, shaking out his wet hair like a dog would


smouldering glances over the dinner table before cracking a smile, warm hands, leather straps holding back his hair, physically feeling his warmth when you stand near him, knowing smiles, ruffling his ruk’s feathers as you would kids hair, kissing the top of your head and stroking your hair, holding one of your hands in both of his, the smell of home cooked meals, inside jokes with his hearth family, accidental hand brushes before he grabs your hand, riding leathers still warm from the sun, the exhilaration of flying fast and high, flushed cheeks after landing, warm soup and toasted rolls in the winter


compliments that could be poetry, black silk floating in the wind, satin lined blazers, perfectly timed puns, spreading his wings just to add drama, sultry looks from under his lashes at feyre (usually at important meetings), surprising everyone with his cooking skills, wandering around the townhouse shirtless, pointed comments about cassian and Nesta always seeming to disappear at the same time, the claw tips of his wings glinting in the sun, laughing and joking with the kids who live in Velaris, lying on the roof staring at the stars with feyre, flying low over the river close enough to touch the water


wearing his worn in leathers everyday, surprise hugs and kisses, thoughtful gifts, joking to lighten the mood, communicating with Azriel with one glance, the roar of a bonfire, eating dinner outside, telling ghost stories but laughing too hard at everyone to finish, stubborn, lying on roof tiles that are warm from the sun, getting drunk on whiskey with the inner circle, begging Rhys to let them get a dog to keep in the townhouse, barbecue dinners cooked over the fire, fireworks, falling asleep on the couch, exhausted but happy


silent smirks, dark circles and red eyes when he hasn’t slept well, silently drawing his weapons, watching Elain and garden and he can’t help but smile to himself, he reluctantly lets her put a flower behind his ear, gentle caresses, using his shadows to sneak up on cassian and scare him, deep late night talks with rhys, secretly he loves to read poetry, showing Elain Velaris from the sky, flying surrounded in his shadows when he needs space to think, always barefoot inside the house even though his feet are freezing, his bed is always made, black and white photos on his walls

sjm girl aesthetics

A Good Day

Peter Parker x Reader

As part of my ‘yeah, sure, lets do this,’ requests.

Summary: A good morning full of sunshine, laughter, flowers, shoulders, and swing sets. Words: 1.5k. FLUFF.

Requested Prompts by the remarkable, fantastic, and talented sweetheart @spiderling–parker : “How are you so damn photogenic?”“I brought you your coffee.” “Put me down! ”

Gorgeous moodboard by the multi-talented and glorious @spiderling–parker

Today was a good day
, you decided, punctuating the thought with a soft smile, eyelashes relaxed and comfortable lazing on the bed of your cheeks. After nearly a full week of dark rainy days and cold, cloudy nights, it was just so nice to be sitting out in the open air, morning sun warming you to the core, spreading the skin of your upturned face with buttery rays. You could still smell the rain, wafting from puddles and dewy grass; the perfume of moist earth and wet flowers hanging in the still-thick air, carried on the gentle breeze blowing through leaves on the trees whispering their good mornings to anyone listening. Little, excited birds singing to you in the same tune as the laughing children playing on slides and swings behind you.

You drew in a deep breath of that heady, good air, noticing that there was a new, familiar note to it as it reached your lungs; it was heavier, but the same: sunshine, warm honey, and musky thunder storms. You heard the sound of a shutter closing, lips curling and lashes fluttering open as his voice greeted your ears.

“Man,” his voice warm and fitting the day, “How are you so damn photogenic?” His brows were scrunched over the top of his view finder, fingers of one hand awkwardly posed around the camera he had started carrying around with him after he’d found it tucked away in a box of his Uncle’s things.

“I’m not really, you’re just a real deal photographer,” but you were blushing because you knew what he was actually saying, “you make me photogenic.” From underneath his camera you could see a crooked smile on his thin lips because he knew what you were actually saying, too, grinning as his thumb pushed at the advance lever and his finger pressed down on the shutter release and with another click he’d captured that light blush and shy smile.

Today is a good day.

Keep reading

Torture Me (charliesfairy)

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader
Genre: pure filth, my man
Warnings: sub!Yoongi, dom!female, overstimulation, restraints, sex toys, 

    Yoongi was all over you the moment you shut the door.  His lips pressed against yours and his hands roamed your body.

    “Yoongi,” you spoke against his lips, “honey, what has gotten into you?”

    “I need you.” He hummed against the skin of your neck. “I need you to take care of me.”

    He squeezed your hips and whispered again.

    “I need you to use me,” he grinded himself into you, “tie me up, tease me, torture me.”

    It wasn’t very often that Yoongi was submissive, especially this much, but you loved it when he was.  You loved to feel him squirm under your touch and beg you to touch him.  You loved to hear that sweet voice of his plead with you just for a little friction when he was tied up.  You loved making him cum over and over until his cock was all red and sensitive, and his voice rough from screaming so much.  You both start pulling off clothing as you kissed, leaving a trail of jackets and shirt to the bedroom.

    “You know what to do.” You spoke when the door was closed behind you.

    He nodded and hurriedly pulled the bottom drawer open on the dresser, starting to pull out all his favorite tie ups and toys.  You watched him with a smile on your face.  He seemed so giddy to be tied up and teased.  He set the pile on the bed and then began to undress quickly.  The cold air that hit his length made him suck in a breath as his hand instinctively reached for his member.

    “No!” You warned, making him jump and snap his head towards you to lock your gazes. “You know you’re not supposed to do that, baby.”

    You could see the apology in his eyes, so instead of making him actually say it, you just flicked your head to the bed.  He understood the small gesture and obeyed, crawling on the bed and positioned himself on his knees.  He spread the pile of restraints and toys across the bed in front of him like he always did when this happened so you’d have a better overview of what he picked out for the night (or day bc let’s be honest he’d fuck anytime).  He fell back onto this heels and let his hands rest on his thighs.  You licked your lips as you skimmed over the straps of leather.  You walked over to him and made him turn his body to face you.

    “What should we use to tie you up, baby?” You whispered in his ear and pulled back.

    He gulped as he followed your gaze.

    “Should I use leather?” You pulled a leather strap closer.  He ran his tongue over his bottom lip in excitement. “Or,”

    You turned around to open the drawer again.

    “Should I use metal?”

    You held up the handcuffs, and his eyes grew wide.  You knew he secretly liked the handcuffs and this kind of sex in general because it meant he got extra attention from you afterwards, as well, but he liked to pretend he didn’t like it sometimes in hopes you would go harder on him.  You smirked at him as you put the leather straps back in the drawer and sat the handcuffs in front of him.

    He looked up at you with a mixed expression.  You couldn’t tell if he wanted this or not even though he always did.  You hesitated your commands, but your worries were melted once he picked up the metal and hooked one around his left wrist.  He laid on his back with his head on the pillows and hooked the other end on the handcuffs to the headboard.  He looked at you with pleading eyes and grabbed the headboard with his right head.

    “Good boy.” You praised and finished tying him to the bed.

    You don’t usually tie his feet down unless he starts acting bratty which doesn’t happen often, but you had a feeling it was going to happen tonight judging by how needy he was.  You started slow.

    You unbuttoned your top and let it fall down your arms onto the floor.  His eyes were practically burning through your skin as he watched you tease him.  You hadn’t planned on this happening, so you weren’t wearing any type of special lingerie underneath, just a simple black bra and panties.  But Yoongi didn’t care.  To him, you were absolutely stunning in whatever you wore.  You turned around to give him a full view of your next action.  You pulled your skirt down your legs, giving Yoongi a full view of your ass.  He let out a low groan at the sight.  You smirked to yourself.  You loved how just the lack of a shirt and bottoms could get him going.  You kicked the black clothing away from your feet and turned back to Yoongi.

    “Lets save these for later, hm?” You set the rest of the things he had gotten out on top of the dresser. “Let’s go slow.”

    You settled yourself between his legs and ran your hands up his thighs.  You leaned down to place soft kisses on the skin.  You heard him let of a sigh of relief.  You trailed the kisses higher, doing the same on the other leg until you reached his shaft.  You licked up the underside and wrapped your hand around him, pumping him a few times, using his precum as a lubricant.  His breaths started getting heavy, and he gasped when you took the tip in your mouth.  You fit all that you could in your mouth and pumped the rest with your hand.  You bobbed your head in time with your hand, but it wasn’t enough for him.  As you quickened your pace, he bucked his hips up, making his length hit the back of your throat.  You smacked his thigh harshly and pulled your head up, no contact remaining.

    “You’re not supposed to do that.” You said in a stern voice. “Do you need to be punished?”

    He shook his head, his eyes wide.

    “I’m sorry!  Please just touch me!”

    You decided to be nice and leaned down again.  He pulled in a breath as you took him back in your mouth and began to suck, hollowing out your cheeks.

    “I’m gonna-” His words were cut off by a moan as the hot liquid was released in your mouth.

    You pulled away briefly to swallow but immediately went back to sucking on him, trying to collect all the juices.  You cleaned his shaft off with your tongue, earning some small whimpers from him.  He took a deep breath and swallowed before looking down at you, waiting for what you were going to do next.  You shot him a mischievous smirk as you sat up on your knees and began to ran your hands down your body.  He gulped when your hands reached your waistband.  You took your bottom lip between your teeth as you slipped your hand beneath the fabric.

    You breathing got heavier as you teased your own folds.  You knew he hated when you touched yourself because he knows he could do it better.  He wanted to be the one pleasing you even though he asked you to tie him up.

    “Oh, Yoongi.” You breathed as you rubbed your clit in small circular motions. “This feels so good.”

    You slipped your middle finger past your entrance and focused on his reaction.  You could tell he was starting to gain his need for dominance again because he was starting to pull against the handcuffs a bit, but you weren’t going to give in and unlock him just yet.  You wanted to have some more fun.  You added another finger.  Then another.  Soon, you had Yoongi hard and leaking precum again due to your fast movements and heavy moans.

    “Don’t you dare.” Yoongi spoke up in an angry voice.

    “Don’t what?” You teased. “Cum all over my fingers instead of your cock?”

    He bit down harshly on his bottom lip as an answer.  You stalled your movements.

    “Watch me.” You continued your previous movement, only faster this time and with your thumb rubbing your clit. “Watch me fuck myself with my own fingers.”

    You came with a loud moan of “oh, fuck!”.  You pulled your fingers out, scooping some of your juices up in the process and leaned up to Yoongi.  Hovering over him again, straddling his stomach, letting the rest of the fluid drip onto him trough your panties.

    “Suck.” You ordered and put your fingers to his mouth.

    He opened his mouth reluctantly but began to suck the fluids off eagerly.

    “Good boy.” You smiled and took your fingers out of his mouth but not without him biting the tip of one slightly. “Are you trying to get punished?”

    “When I get out of these handcuffs,” he growled. “You’re in for it.”

    “I think you forgot who’s in charge right now, baby.” You pushed yourself off the bed and turned to the dresser where his vibrator rested. “Should I just leave you here with this strapped to you?”

    “You wouldn’t.”

    “Oh, I think I will, but.” You pulled your underwear down you legs, leaving it on the floor. “I think I’ll have some more fun.”

    You straddled his waist, hovering enough to just barely touch his member.  You reached down to stroke him a few times before positioning him at your entrance.  You slowly lowered yourself onto him.  His breath hitched in his throat as you began to raise and lower yourself on his cock.  This was his favorite position except his ideal is being able to dig his nails into your hips, slam into you from beneath and slap your ass raw.  Being able to bite your neck and pull your hair, telling you how good your taking his cock.  Not digging his nails into his own flesh as you ride his dick painfully slow, but he couldn’t lie.  He loved this, too.  He loved this side of you that only he got to see.

    “Oh god, Yoongi.” You moaned and sped your hips. “Your dick feels so fucking good.”

    Soon, you were coming undone all over again and so was he.  Groans of profanity filled the room as you both released, your pleasure increased by Yoongi bucking his hips up as he filled you with his cum.  As much as you loved when he did that, it was against the rules, and he knew it.  He whined at the lack of contact when you lifted yourself off him, his eyes still screwed shut, and his mouth hung slightly open.  You pushed his legs open with yours and settled yourself on your knees again, quickly taking his red, swollen cock in your hands, starting to pump it again.

    “Ah, Y/N!” Yoongi cried out.

    The sensitivity of his length and your harsh movements were combining pain with pleasure towards his third orgasm of the night.  Switching so your left hand was leading, you reached for the vibrator.  He sucked in a breath through his teeth, producing a hissing sound followed by little breaths of “ah, ah, ah”.  His eyes now focused on the ceiling whenever they were open because he didn’t have the power to keep his head from pushing back in pleasure, so he didn’t notice you getting the vibrator until it was being wrapped around his cock.  His eyes popped open and focused on your hands, and his head flew off the pillow.  You smirked at him as you turned it on to the lowest setting.

    “Don’t do this to me.”

    “You asked for it, baby.” You sighed. “When you decided to buck your hips up like that.”

    “Y/N.” he tried to say your name sternly, but it came out as a moan.

    He pulled against the restraints like he had been since you climbed on top of him except a little harder.  His wrists were red and raw from the rough contact on his delicate skin, but you’d take care of him later.  You bumped up the setting a little more, making his head press into the pillow with more force than before and earning you a strangled moan from through gritted teeth.  You just watched as his sensitive cock was practically abused by the vibrator.  Soon, cum was spurting out of his dick and all over the vibrator.  His chest rose and fell quickly, and his screams and moans turned into whispers and wincing.  He could probably take one more, but you didn’t want to push it.  He whimpered your name as you turned off the toy and took it off him.

    “Yes, baby…” You said, barely audible.

    You let the toy hit the floor.  You didn’t care whether it was broken or not.  You just cared about getting Yoongi out of those handcuffs and in your arms.  You grabbed the key and unlocked the one around his left wrist, then his right, setting the key on the bedside stand and let the metal cuffs hang on the head board.  You took of your bra and crawled onto the bed beside him.  You pulled him into your lap and stroked his hair.  You raised one of his wrists to your mouth and placed a gentle kiss to the red skin.

    “I’m so sorry.”

    “Don’t be.” he whispered and softly kissed your neck. “I loved every minute of that.”

    You smiled as he continued to kiss the curve of your neck, and his hands rubbed your sides.  His soft hands felt like heaven on your skin.

    “But,” he nipped at the skin on your collarbone and smirked as his gaze caught yours, “You’re in for it tomorrow.”


Sorry this took so long.  It was weird to write Yoongi as a sub in this way, but it was fun! (but i’m still shit at endings ugh) I hope you like it! Feedback is appreciated! (please love me) Send me more requests!

(For the anon who requested it! and @the-spnpost and for my babe @goddessofdestruction <3) 


Can you write one where Peter is pissed at you so as punishment he whips you.


alrighty, here goes nothing, please enjoy~


It was the only emotion you could feel. As if fear had replaced the very blood in your body, it coursed through veins. It made you feel heavy, and it made your body shake. The look on Peter’s face when he sent you away to his cabin was plastered to the back of your eyelids, glued to your mind. It was the only thing you could picture, which made your body shake even harder. You had NEVER seen Peter that mad before. The look he gave you made your heart freeze over, and your breath got caught within your lungs. When he spoke, his voice came out almost like a hiss, and his words repeated over and over in your mind. 

“You. Get to my cabin. Now.”

You basically ran all the way there, your feeling more heavy with each step you took. Now you were pacing back and forth, your lips trembling in fear as horrid ideas came to mind as what Peter might have in store for you.

But what he wanted to do was much, much worse. 

The door to the cabin burst open, and in came a furious Peter. His eyes were blazing with anger, his lips pulled up into a harsh snarl. He had his fists balled up at his sides so tightly that the skin turned white, almost as if his flesh would rip apart if he clenched them any tighter. You stared at him with wide eyes, tears coming to them just out of sheer terror. You didn’t even know what to say to the boy to try and calm him down, but he didn’t give you the chance. He charged at you, and before you knew it, he had you pinned against the wall, his hand wrapped tightly around your throat. He growled into your face, as the veins on his forehead began to pop out. 

“You… I can’t believe you disobeyed me like that.”

You gasped out for breath, your hands quickly moving up to try and pry his hand away from your throat. Your vision became blurring on the edges as the air slowly left your body, and you could no longer suck any in. You kicked your legs in an attempt to free yourself from his grasp but it was no use, the more you squirmed the harder he held onto your throat. You could basically feel the bruises forming on your skin has Peter’s hand became tighter with every snarl he let out into your paling face. Your eyes rolled back into hit skull, and you finally stopped squirming, accepting the fact that there was no way out of his death grasp

But as soon as you gave up was when he let go. He released your neck, and you collapsed onto the floor. You gulped in as much air as you could, tears spilling from your eyes as you vision became clear again. Peter had never been this aggressive with you before, and all you wanted was for it to stopped. You looked up at him with fear filled eyes, watching him taking deep breaths in and out as he glared daggers at your fallen form. He was still angry, and you could tell by the way he looked at you.

“P-Peter.. I’m so sorry.. Please-”

“Shut up, (Y/N)”

You flinched at the harshness in his voice, keeping your face down casted as he paced back and forth in front of you. You could basically feel the darkness radiating off the evil boy, as he mumbled swear words under his breath. Finally he stopped his pacing, and stared down at your shaking form. He reached down quickly and grabbed your forearm tightly, pulling you up to your feet with an incredible amount of force. You squealed at his rough touch, trying to pull from his grasp. But this only made Peter more mad. He had you held in place, growling when you let out a whimper.

“Don’t whine. You deserve this. Now, take your shirt off.”

Your eyes widened at his request, only the worst passing through your thoughts. You finally managed to break away from him, wrapping your arms tightly around self in a protective way. He narrowed his glare, his eyes looking like those of a demon. You shook your head violently, your voice shaking as you spoke.

“P-Peter no.. Please anything but that I’m sorry…”

Peter raised an eyebrow at your words, but the confusion quickly faded from his face once he realized what your words meant. He let out a devilish laugh, his lips curling up into his shark like smirk as he stared you down once again.

“Oh please, not for that, you would enjoy that too much, this is suppose to be punishment. Now shirt off. Now.”

You were still hesitant, keeping your arms wrapped around your shaking form. Peter couldn’t take the disobedience anymore. He trusted out his hands towards you, and suddenly your hands were moving on their own accord. Your shaky palms were pride from your sides, and they floated down to the hem of your shirt, pulling up the hem. You whimpered, watching Peter control your actions with his dark magic. You tried your hardest to fight back but it was no use, Peter had the strongest magic you’d ever seen. Once you had pulled the shirt over your head and off your body, Peter called off the spell. Your arm were no longer numb, and you mustered up all your courage and glared towards Peter. He just smirked back at you, shrugging.

“When you piss me off, I don’t play fair. Now, lay down on the bed, back facing me.”

“Peter please.. I-I already said sorry, isn’t that enough-”

Peter had had enough of your talk back. He growled out loudly, and you filched in fear. You didn’t want him using magic on you once again, so you obeyed, you also didn’t want a worse punishment for what he already had in store for you. You laid down on Peter’s bed, falling face first into the covers. You shivered softly has you felt his ice cold palm lay down against your back, as if to hold you down.

You could hear metal clank from behind you, and you raised an eyebrow. What the hell was he doing behind your back? But the answer came all to soon when you felt cold leather up against your bare back. Your eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as you turned your head back towards Peter. He had taken off his belt and had folded it, now laying the thick leather strap against your back. You had seen Peter punish some of the lost boys this way, when they disobeyed him or tried escaping his island. Panic rushed through your body, your heart rate increasing rapidly as images of screaming boys came into mind, as a brown leather strap smacked into their bare flesh.

You screamed, kicking your legs out frantically to see if you could escape, but it was no use, Pan’s palm was digging into your back, holding you down. No matter how much you struggled the grip he had on you just became tighter and tougher. Tears fell freely from your eyes now, as you realized this was the price to pay for going against Peter. He let out a low chuckle, brining up the belt high above his head.

“Remember, this is punishment, this is all your fault.”

He stated in a hiss before brining the belt down hard against your flesh. Your scream ripped through the silent night, as your flesh pulsed and bruised under the harsh hit. It felt as if you were being burned every time the belt came smacking against your skin. Screams continued to spill from your throat, causing it to become raw and sore. To someone outside the cabin, it sounded as though you were being brutally murdered, and to you, you’d rather experience that then this pain. You could feel your skin ripping apart underneath the belts harsh lashes, feeling your own blood freely flow from the open wounds like small rivers. The Crimson red river flowed down your sides and landed on Peter’s white bedsheets, creating small pools. Peter’s face was contorted in pure amusement and insanity, and he continued to bring the belt down on your skin with no mercy. His eyes were clouded over, and a smile was plastered on his face as if it was cut into his handsome features.

The pain was absolutely brutal, and you didn’t know how much longer you could handle it.

Finally, thirty-five hits later, Peter let out a sigh, dropping the bloody belt to the ground. He stood over your broke body, watching the blood flow over your ripped and bruised skin. You felt extremely light headed now, and after all your screaming you could no longer find your voice. Your eyes were fluttering shut, and you let out the smallest of whimpers as you felt Peter’s hand guild against your broken skin, smudging the blood over his fingertips and creating small patterns on your back.


He mumbled softly to himself. He then stepped away from your form, pulling his own shirt off and throwing it into a bucket of water since it was splattered with your blood. He brought his fingertips to his lips, licking the blood off ever so slowly. He smirked, walking towards the door to the cabin once again. He glanced back once more at your body, the smirk growing on his as he marvelled in the destruction he caused.

“Clean yourself up dearie, and please clean my sheet and belt, wouldn’t want the blood to stain now would we~?”



Sam imagine requested by anon! This imagine has been edited for reposting, just to bulk up on description, as my beginner’s writing was lacking in that section. Hope you like it!

The hunt was going rather well, an outcome to be expected with companions as lethal as the Winchester brothers, your success nearly fulfilled as you inched closer to your prey, angel blade in hand. You had managed to corner the demon alongside the hunters, the only escapes for the Hellspawn being death by one of your gleaming metal swords or stepping into a devil’s trap, a fate that would surely send the monster smoking through the floorboards on it’s way home. Both options were negatives, the demon weighing the severity of the situation with a surprisingly level head, eyes flickering between your wall of muscle, scanning for breaks in your defense, the panic painting it’s features hiking up in potency as you progressed forward, the cool facade washing away as the choice drew nearer. Black eyes were frantically searching the room for anything that might assist it in an exit, passing over Sam and Dean, scanning them up and down as if assessing a portrait in a museum, scowling at their chests before it’s obsidian irises locked on you, lips spreading into a wide, sinister smile. The eyes dropped to your chest

“Open wide,” it hissed, shimmery pink lips smirking at your confusion before being thrown open, the vessel’s jaw dropping in a violently forceful manner, to release the black smoke. Sam and Dean bristled beside you as the cloud of darkness swarmed above the vessel, body collapsing to the concrete, not a breath of life in the woman. Your attention, however, was on the direction of the smoke, the pillar charging straight towards you. You pursed your lips against the onslaught, but your body was no longer yours to control. The decision had been made for you.

“No!” Sam cried, moving to step in front of you, to fight the insubstantial mist, his struggles in vain. Your jaw was pried open, the acidic taste of demon central slithering down your throat like flaming alcohol, the scorching swarm of evil bringing water to your eyes as it slipped through your system uninterrupted, your arms flung out by your sides as the smoke whirled along your veins to straighten your fingertips, gripping your nerves and commanding your body like a puppeteer. Your pulse quickened, deafeningly loud in your ears, as your muscles were torn raw. You could… hear the blood flowing through your arteries, each pulse of your heart, you could taste the air like a snake would, particles of dust sizzling against your taste buds. Everything you saw had a sheen of red cast upon it, edges shimmering with a darkened halo, corners defined, the air hot in your lungs with each sensitive inhale. You were trapped in your own body, none of these movements your own. You were possessed.

The demon cracked your neck and rolled your shoulders, your joints crackling loudly as your hands clenched in and out of fists, treading water whilst testing your basic controls. A quick tutorial before the real game began. A laugh that was and wasn’t yours bubbled from between your lips, lighthearted despite your current predicament, your usually casual peal of happiness tainted by the underlying savagery of your body’s newest occupant. You turned your head to face the hunters, saw the boys through her eyes and yours, targets and saviors, your emotions severed by your split personality. Dean had his blade raised, the tip of the weapon pointed at your heart. The demon had you click your tongue at him, the sound foreign, waggling your index finger in his direction as if scolding a child.

“You know, Dean, you really aught to have had her inked up. People might think she’s… ripe for the picking, an open house of sorts. This is incredibly inconvenient, I’m sure. The one thing you don’t want is a partner with a hole in her heart.“ Your facial muscles contracted in a smirk, though you felt the opposite of your actions, as Dean hesitantly lowered his sword, his jawline hardening. Oh God, you were being used as a shield. The only way through to your attacker was through your own demise, a path you would rather not journey down. Sam began walking towards you, his features twisted in rage, eyes glowing, livid as he was. You merely stood still, the demon content with it’s protection against all actions this man could perform against it.

“No, but there are other ways to get rid of you.” Sam spat, his pace increasing, his shoulders ramming into you with enormous power, knocking you back and inside the trap. The demon went rigid. It had forgotten about the trap, overconfident within your meatsuit body armour. The momentum carried over through Sam knocked you back against a crumbling brick wall, your spine flattening against the vertical surface, his body holding you still. You felt a stab of pain in your ribs, a fracture, maybe? The air felt cooler when you breathed. The demon cursed aloud, forcing your limbs to writhe against Sam’s unbreakable hold, legs kicking off the ground as your body fought the human contraints. “Not so tough now, are you?” Sam laughed, hoisting you up, arms tight around your core, tying you to the chair in the center of the elaborate trap, securing your wrists to the armrests with thick leather cords.

“I could snap her neck.” The demon snarled. Sam’s face reflected the sickening pain you would’ve felt in your stomach, had you had control over your stomach, at the very real threat. He tied your hands tighter to the armrests, ignoring your heart-wrenching words.

“You’d need to be able to move, and you’re not going anywhere.” He stepped outside of the circle, joining Dean, who pressed a world-worn book into his palms, the men  pacing the perimeter of your prison. Sam cleared his throat, his hazel eyes flickering to your face, your features crumpled in fury, his gaze softening before he addressed you. “If you can hear me in there, I’m sorry, Y/n. This is gonna be Hell.” He clenched his teeth, lowering his face to the text, beginning the exorcism.

From the first word, you felt the blades of serrated knives puncture your organs, molten metal dripping from the wounds, fire lapping at your face, your skin smoldering. A jumbled choir of broken nails on a chalkboard and the emergency radio broadcast sound blared loud enough to rupture your eardrums, ricocheting off of the walls of your skull, battering into your brain. Your body twitched, your bindings keeping your body from smashing against the floor, the demon begging Sam to stop, promises flying from your lips like a prayer, a rather blasphemous sound, coming from a warrior of Hell. The pain progressively worsened as Sam drawled on, the Latin slicing into your bones, each word carrying shards of glass to your body, the demon gripping you tighter and tighter, afraid now to lose the safety you had brought it. You felt each joint snap, though they stayed intact, the fiendish fingers beginning to retract as the exorcism drew to a close. The demon’s hold on you lessened to the point where you were breathing the words yourself, your voice a feeble mirror to Sam’s, working the monster from your body alongside the hunter. In a final burst, the smoke erupted from your mouth, jaw flung wide open, the pillar screeching straight through the floor. Your body slumped forward, held to the chair only by the leather straps, your skin prickling back to life, forearms raw from fighting the bindings, a gloriously realistic sensation. Sam crossed the trap, rushing to your side, his hands on your face, cradling your cheeks as he checked you over, assessing the damage done under the influence.

“Y/n? Are you alright?” He asked, untying your wrists, arms catching your limp body as you fell into him, far too exhausted to hold your own posture. You didn’t know how people could go on for more than you had possessed. In your stint as a demon, you’d nearly gone mad with terror, your body reacting to commands you did not give, head shifting around like a haywire virtual reality game. You somehow managed to nod, your cheek squishing against Sam’s chest, the action leaching what little strength you had. Sam sighed in relief, planting a kiss on your forehead, his hands holding you tighter to his chest. You managed to wince at the added pressure to your ribs, his hold weakening, his hands tracing your injury through the fabric of your shirt, his lips grazing your cheek. If you had had the energy to squeal from shock and delight, you would have. For now, you just exhaled, content despite the aching pain erupting all over your body. Sam brushed at the tears forming underneath your eyes. “I love you, Y/n. It’s good to have you back.” Sam whispered, helping you from the chair, his grip firm, yet gentle, slinging your arm over his shoulder, making sure he moved the side of your body opposite your damaged ribs, his hand holding tight to your waist as he shuffled you forward to Dean, who was chuckling, his laughter tinged with his own relief.

“It took demonic possession for you to realize you had to tell her?” Dean grumbled, his fingers prodding your ribs, your face scrunching weakly at the dull sparks his touch inflicted. You smiled a bit, feeling yourself lose consciousness, Sam’s arms easily working with your partial collapse, using your bent form to heave you into his arms fully, your feet lifting from the ground, your head lolling into his shoulder, eyelids drooping.

“Shh, Y/n. I’ve got you. Go to sleep. We’re gonna get you patched up, just go to sleep.” Sam whispered, his voice distant. You blacked out, giddy in spite of your circumstances, Sam’s arms keeping you safe as you drifted off to a dreamless sleep, your mind under your own control once again.

The Kind You Would Die For

Owens apartment was cold and it seemed the only way to stop from shivering was to snuggle. Amelia fell asleep curled up in a ball, into Owen body. He had his arms wrapped protectively around, the same way they always slept. Every night Amelia snuggled into Owen, he had a way of making her feel safe when she slept. In his arms it was as if nothing terrible or tragic had ever happened her, in his arms she wasn’t Amelia Shepherd the junkie whose baby died or finance overdosed. She was simply Amelia Shepherd, the neurosurgeon that Owen Hunt loved no matter what.

Both were sound asleep, chests rising in unison as they slept soundly. Amelia began to squirm in her spot, causing Owen to stir as well. Amelia’s hand rolled over hitting Owen’s chest, he sat up, eyes still half shut, his voice groggy with a need for sleep. He looked at the clock, 2:00 am. “Amelia what the hell?” He looked down and saw her eyes still closed, in a deep sleep. He rolled over, figuring she was just dreaming and closed his eyes to go back to sleep when her arm hit him again. “No. NO!” Amelia screamed.

She was in a hotel room, the walls a crimson red with a cream paisley pattern on them. The table was filled with empty bottles of liquor and beer, prescription pads, and tinfoil with crushed oxy spread on it. She had been here before. Her gazed moved around the room when she notice two figures curled up on the bed. One was herself and the other was a tall, well built, dark haired man, with striking blue eyes and few freckles on his face. Ryan.

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anonymous asked:

Can you write a one shot-- Olivia is a single mom and Fitz is her daughter's teacher?

Thanks sooo much for this request. I LOVED writing this one shot. Depending on what everybody thinks I could even make this the Olitz fanfiction I wanted to start. 


Hot For Teacher 

“Dawson Carolyn Pope! That is too much syrup!” Olivia Pope snapped at her daughter, looking up from her bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios, she noticed her six-year old squeezing the bottle of syrup so hard that the woman’s face displayed on the bottle appeared scrunched. Dawson jumped, apparently surprised that her mother had looked up from the lengthy acquisition she was rereading.

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Fun Times with Rennyn

It was that time of year again, and Rennyn insisted on allowing Ryuu his freedom. The Protector even had a room created for the two of them, one where Ryuu couldnt escape, and one where they could fully explore their internal desires during this time. 

Ryuu was a completely changed man, shoving Rennyn against one of the walls as he quickly stripped the other of his clothes before slowly backing the other up until he was standing beneath a few chains hanging from the ceiling. 

He forced the others hands into the restraints before pulling them up so the other would have to stand on his tip toes. 

“I’m going to have my fun with you Rennyn~ I remember the last time I was let loose~ Tell me, what was the safe word again?” He asked, leaving the other to go and grab a crop and gently rub the leather straps against Rennyns back side. 

“Say it~ Or Ill leave you hanging here and go find someone else to help me with my problem~” He chucked, walking in front of the other as he pulled off his shirt so he was standing in just his jeans. 

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