Horror Sub-genres: Cults

horror sub-genres: cults

seeing double

🌙staring. Johnny & John x afab!Reader 

🔮 preview. “As much as I’d love to fuck two of you, I know you’ve always been interested in a threesome with two guys, and we both know I’m too protective to let anyone else touch you. I found this cloning spell and I figured, if there’s one man I can share you with, it’s myself.” 

tw/cw. Threesome, unprotected sex, oral, blow jobs, pussy eating, praise, dirty talk, degradation, y/n calls Johnny daddy twice, John calls y/n whore/slut/bitch once each cuz he's an ass, demonic double John is a bit of a dick, anal fingering, deep throating, spit-roasting/Eiffel tower, double penetration (pussy/mouth), triple penetration (pussy/mouth/finger in ass), spanking, choking, biting, punishment, blindfold/sensory deprivation, big dick Johnny, pussy stretching, John cums on her face, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.9k

🍭 aus. Warlock Johnny, established relationship, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. ya'll thought one Johnny was enough for us, but I give you double John- threesome of the year

“Do you trust me?” Johnny asks, pulling away from a breathtaking kiss to lock his gaze with your own. His hands are gentle on your hips, but something in his smile makes you uneasy.

“It depends,” you admit. “I thought I trusted you last month when you decided summoning a demon was a good idea but that didn’t turn out very well, did it, Johnny?”

“What do you mean?” he laughs. “That was a great idea! He gave me a new spell book!”

“Yeah, a book of black magic! Please tell me you haven’t been messing around with that again-”

“Fine, I haven’t been messing around with it,” Johnny pulls you deeper into his room, “I’ve been reading it.” 

“Johnny-”

“Trust me on this one, I found a spell and I think you’ll really like it!”

You can’t believe you’re humoring your boyfriend on this, but with a sigh, you take a seat on his bed. “Fine, what is it?” 

“It’s a cloning spell,” Johnny grins, picking up the Demonic Grimoire.

“A cloning spell?” you repeat, eyes widening. “Are you trying to suggest a threesome or something? You know, if you want another girl to join, it’s easier to just go find one rather than conjure up a double-”

“Not another girl,” Johnny cuts you off. “As much as I’d love to fuck two of you, I know you’ve always been interested in a threesome with two guys, and we both know I’m too protective to let anyone else touch you. I found this cloning spell and I figured, if there’s one man I can share you with, it’s myself.” 

You simply stare at him for a moment, trying to register his words. “You mean… you want to…”

“Conjure up a clone of myself, and rail you with him, yeah.” Johnny’s grin widens. “Besides, that demon did warn me that most of the shit in this Grimoire is made for sin, and what’s more sinful than this? Lust, gluttony, pride, greed, sloth, hell, even envy is probably going to pop up. Maybe you’ll feel a little wrath too, if you act bratty. We can do all seven of the deadly sins in one go!”

You find yourself laughing. “You sound way too excited about committing cardinal sins, Johnny.”

“Well, I am half demon, remember.”

Sometimes you do forget that your sweet boyfriend is partly demonic. But his stint with the pentagram last month had reminded you just how close to Hell he really is, even behind his large smile and the ‘I love you’s’ that he showers onto you daily.

Many warlocks have a demon mark. Some have horns, or a tail- some sort of clear sign that they’re not of this world. But your Johnny? The only mark he has connecting him to the land below is heterochromia, one eye with a black iris, the other brown. In low lighting, it’s almost easy to miss the slight difference in color, and your boyfriend blends seamlessly into the human world with something as mundane as a pair of sunglasses. Others of his kind aren’t nearly as lucky. 

It’s been over twenty years since all manner of ‘night beings’ revealed themselves to your world. Vampires, witches, warlocks, werewolves, demons, angels- the list goes on. And while humanity has gotten used to these ‘others,’ they’re not fully accepted yet either. You have family members who would have a heart attack if they knew what you got up to with Johnny every week.

“Come on, baby,” Johnny sets his Grimoire down in favor of grabbing your hand. “I’ll only do it if you want to give it a try.” 

“Is it easy to cancel the spell?” you ask. “Last time you conjured that cat with batwings we couldn’t get rid of it for a week-”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t love Mister Whisker-Bat by the end of the week though, you were just as sad to see him go as I was,” Johnny insists. “But yeah, canceling the spell is easy. I’ll be using one of my hairs for the spell, to get rid of the double, all we have to do is light the small alter - and hair - on fire.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“Is that a yes?” Johnny’s eyes widen. “You’ll have a threesome with me and me?”

You laugh at his choice of words. “You can conjure him and we can see what he’s like, how’s that sound?”

“Trust me, baby, you’ll love him.” Johnny flashes you a wink, his brown eye disappearing momentarily so all you see is the black one. It’s a quirk of his, whenever he winks, it’s always the demon eye on full display. 

“How are you so sure about this?” you ask, standing from the bed and wrapping your arms around the back of Johnny’s neck, looking up at him with a smile. His confidence is one of the things you love most about him, even if it does get him into trouble.

“I just am, it’s a feeling I have.” He shrugs, hands finding your hips. 

It’s impossible to be this close to your boyfriend and not kiss him, so that’s what you do, pressing your mouth against his. It’s gentle at first, but as with everything when it comes to your warlock boyfriend, it quickly turns heated.

Johnny’s tongue swipes across your lip, begging for entry. You invite him into your mouth, stifling a moan at the feeling as his hands hold you closer, tugging you flush to his chest.

You have no idea what tonight will be like, but you do trust Johnny. He’d never let you get hurt, and you doubt his clone will either.

Your fingers slip up to thread through his hair. He’s had it dyed a blondish grey for as long as you’ve known him, and you’re living for the way it sets off his skin tone. You’d half expected the strands to be crunchy when you’d first kissed him months ago, but his hair is as smooth as silk- Johnny has some sort of potion hair mask that he uses to keep himself shiny and soft. 

You tug gently on his hair and Johnny groans against your mouth, digging his digits against your hips. He’d said he needs hair for this spell to work, and you narrow in on two strands, biting his lip at the same time you give a rough yank.

“Ow!” Johnny yelps, pulling away from you. He looks down at you with wide eyes.

“You said you needed hair for the spell,” you grin, holding out the strands. “Here, I was just trying to help.”

He gives you a look that says he doesn’t quite believe you, and it only makes your smile widen. 

“Okay,” Johnny sighs. “Let’s do this.”

You watch him approach the small alter he’s made on his desk. There’s a large, circular mirrored tray as the base. Covering the reflective surface is a number of dried herbs and other warlock items, a bottle of something dark red, what looks like salt or ash- there’s also a few runes decorating the space, and bits of parchment covered in incantations. 

Johnny sets his hair in the center, then pulls a lighter out of his jean pocket. He lifts a black candle, igniting it. As the flame licks the wick, Johnny begins to speak in some form of demonic language, picking up the Grimiore with his free hand. 

You practically hold your breath, watching him as he tilts the candle at an angle, allowing the hot wax to drip down onto his hair, sticking it to the mirror. When he seems satisfied with the amount of black wax, he sets the candle down next to the hairs. 

His voice has taken on a deeper edge as he continues reading the spell, and you can practically see the power begin to radiate off your warlock boyfriend, like grey waves resounding out from his flesh, echoing through the room. 

Your hair stands on edge, a slight heat overtaking you, and you smell the familiar scent of brimstone. It’s a smell you’ve become accustomed to since Johnny apprehended the Grimoire in his hands, and it’s always given you an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You like to think of Johnny as your soft boyfriend, but he’s a warlock, and the demonic side of him is never more evident than on nights like these.

You’re not sure what to expect as Johnny’s spell work comes to an end. Bat-cat had appeared in a puff of smoke, but as you look around, there’s no dark cloud, no evident conjuration-

“Huh,” Johnny cocks his head to the side. “That should have worked-”

The lights flicker out, the room going dark aside from the one black candle burning on the altar.

Then, just as suddenly, the lights turn back on, and your gaze shifts to the switch by the door. Your breath catches as you take in the man standing there, one hand lazily touching the switch. Johnny’s double has appeared, and he’s the one who just turned the lights back on.

“Hi, losers.”

While the new Johnny clone is wearing the same white shirt and black jeans combo your boyfriend has on, this Johnny has dark hair. You’ve always loved your boyfriend’s coloured strands, but there’s something so regal about the dark brown- it sets off the sharp angles of his face, and leaves you breathless.

“Who are you calling losers?” Johnny retorts, closing the Grimiore and turning to face the double at the door.

“I’m calling you two losers,” the clone grins. “You’re a loser for wanting a threesome with yourself, and she’s a loser for agreeing to it.”

“You’re a bit of a dick, aren’t you?” your boyfriend laughs.

“Not any more than you. I’m your double, anything I say or do is something you would say or do, well, it would be if you let your demonic side out more often. You’re so good at keeping that part of you under lock and key, but not tonight. Here I am.” The double pushes off from the wall, approaching your boyfriend. “Don’t be mad if you don’t like what you see.” 

“I’m not mad about what I see,” Johnny says thoughtfully, “I’m just wondering why your hair is so dark. Thought you were supposed to be a clone.”

“My hair is like your demon side, you can try to cover it up, make it lighter, but this spell always knows your true self. Besides, baby thinks I look good with this hair colour,” the clone’s gaze shifts to you, and he flashes you that classic Johnny grin, “isn’t that right, baby?”

“I-” your words get choked in your throat, and you swallow thickly, looking between your boyfriend and his darker double. “Johnny-”

“Another charade to appear nicer,” the clone clicks his tongue. “Your blonde, soft-looking boyfriend might go by the name Johnny. But tonight, you’ll call me John.”

“You’re not the one calling the shots tonight,” your boyfriend interjects, “but… having two different names for us isn’t a bad idea.”

“It’s a great idea,” John smirks, “you came up with it yourself.”

“Can’t argue with you there.”

The two handsome men exchange a knowing glance, and your insides twist with anticipation. 

They’re gonna fuck you up and you just know it.

“So, since I’m not the one calling the shots,” John sighs, gaze shifting to you again, “how about you tell me how this is going to go? I’d hate to step on any… toes.”

He’s looking at you like he wants to eat you up. You’re used to Johnny’s black iris, but John’s dark hair makes it stand out even more. It’s noticeably demonic, and it makes your heart race in your chest. You feel like a prey being sized up by a predator, and something about it has your panties getting wet.

“You know what?” your soft lover cocks his head to the side. “Baby, how about you tell us what you want to do? You’re the one who’s about to be railed, you should get to choose how it happens, don’t you think?”

“I like how you say that as if you’ll actually fully listen to her,” John scoffs. 

“What do you mean? I always give baby a say in things.”

“Yeah. Sure. Except you nudge her in the direction you want to go. We both know it’s only going to take a little stroking, a little making her gag on our cocks, and she’ll be putty in our fucking hands. Baby just wants to please, isn’t that right, pretty girl?” John’s grin widens when all you can do is stare at him.

There might be a response for his lewd observation, but you’re already feeling nice, submissive and dumb. There are no thoughts in your head except ‘holy fuck.’

This dark John is really hot, especially when contrasted by your light boyfriend. 

You’re literally in awe, lips parted ever so slightly, your body tingling with anticipation.

“You know what?” Johnny sighs. “You’re right. We both know baby loves when we’re in control, so lets just… be in control.”

“Now you’re talking,” John grins. “I’ve got a suggestion.”

“Let's hear it.”

“What if we blind fold her? Make her guess who’s touching. Punishment for wrong answers.”

“Punishment?” you ask, voice coming out much shakier than you’d meant for it to.

“Nothing you won’t like,” John assures you. “Now be a good girl and grab the blindfold from the bedside table for us.”

Your eyes shift to Johnny, and he gives you a small nod. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turn and do as you’re asked, holding out the silky eye covering a moment later. 

“Now put it on,” John instructs. “And this time, don’t look at him for permission. Just do it.”

You do as you’re told, hands shaky as you cover your sight with a strip of darkness. As soon as your vision is blocked, you feel more sensitive. You feel even more like prey. Most of all, you feel vulnerable.

There’s a half-demon warlock and a dark clone with demonic intentions staring at you like they want to eat you up. To top it all off, you’ve now just blocked off one of the most important senses.

The bed dips next to you, and you jump slightly from the motion. 

A large hand smooths across the back of your neck, angling you to face the side, and then lips are pressing against your own. 

This mouth is familiar, and you lean into the kiss, letting out a sigh of relief. You reach out, grabbing at the man’s knee to steady yourself, wanting to get lost in the person’s lips-

But then they’re pulling back. “Guess who?” they ask, voice soft. 

“Johnny?”

A small chuckle, and you realize immediately that you’ve already failed the first test.

“How easy it is to trick you, baby.” He lets out a deep sigh, pulling away completely, standing from the bed. “Time for your first punishment. I think three smacks should suffice. Get on all fours, and say thank you for each one.”

Your skin tingles, heart beating wildly in your chest. You do as you’re told. 

Getting into a doggy position, you bend down slightly, arching your back. You’re on edge, listening intently for movement. Soft footfalls let you know someone is approaching, and then two hands grab your asscheeks through your pants, squeezing roughly.

“First three through the jeans, but once we’re done with you, I’m taking these off.” 

It’s not a question. It’s a statement, and you let out a small moan of affirmation.

Your panties are sticking to your core already, and the first hit makes you cry out, pussy clenching around nothing. It had been a heavy-handed smack, harder than Johnny has ever hit you before- but there’s something almost delicious about it.

Your toes curl, and you suck in a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

“Good girl,” someone praises you.

Another smack has you moaning even louder, grabbing at the bed sheets and bunching them up in your hands. “Fuck, thank you!”

The third hit has you practically trembling. You can already feel a bruise forming- but the pain is perfection, in a masochistic kind of way.

“Thank you!”

“Time to guess who delivered your punishment, baby.” 

You feel like a dumb little slut. You’re already slipping into sub-space, delirious and horny. If you had it your way, maybe you wouldn’t even want to speak full sentences anymore. Your mind is swimming, and nothing feels coherent. 

“I-” you lick your lips. The smacks had been hard. “John?”

“Wrong again, pretty girl. Your soft boyfriend is the one who just punished you, but I guess he’s not so soft anymore. In fact… I’d say he’s quite hard. We both are.” 

“Fuck-” you groan, imagining your boyfriend’s cock all stiff in his pants- then you remember that the visual should be doubled, and you can feel your mouth beginning to water.

“Second punishment, suck us off. We’ll see if you really know your boyfriend’s cock or not.”

A hand grabs at you, helping you off the bed and onto your knees on the floor. “Johnny?” you ask.

“Wow, you finally got one right.” The laugh that fills the room is distinctly clone like. 

“Do I get a reward, John?” 

“The reward is you get to suck cock, and since you just got two in a row, you’ll get to suck both of us.”

It’s almost comical how reward and punishment are the same thing, but you’re in too deep to question it. 

Now is not the time to be bratty, and you know it.

There’s a small shuffle in front of you, and then someone instructs you to “Stick out your tongue.”

You do as you’re told, and a second later, a cock is tapped against your wet muscle. You fight the urge to try to suck on it, allowing the man to coat themselves in your saliva. You even begin to drool, and you feel a drip make its way down your chin.

 “Suck.”

You immediately lean forward, swallowing the bulbous head into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around it, and you sink down as far as you can. Johnny has a big cock, you’ve never been able to take it all, but that never stops you from trying.

Your hands brace against someone’s thighs, and you begin to bob your head. The man above you lets out a groan, fingers threading through your hair, guiding you to bob faster, taking more and more into your mouth.

“Guess who,” the man you’re sucking on breathes.

You pull off his cock, feeling a line of spit still connecting you to the best dick you’ve ever had. “Johnny.”

“That’s my girl.” He pulls you onto him again, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. Your fingers dig into his thighs. You push your reflex away, doing your best to please your boyfriend.

“Fuck it,” comes a rough voice, “my turn.”

A second hand grabs your hear, tugging you away from your boyfriend’s cock- only for the same cock to be pushed past your lips. 

It’s sinful how exact the clone is. He has the same large vein running along the underside of his length, the same mushroom tip, the same slight curve, the same taste-

But his motions are different. He’s more aggressive, forcing you all the way onto him like you’d willingly taken Johnny just moments ago. The sudden feeling of his tip hitting the back of your throat with no prep - no sucking to start - has you gagging hard, your eyes beginning to water.

Grabbing onto his thighs to steady yourself, you do your best to relax, to focus on the sounds beginning to leave John’s lips, but as he fucks your face, it’s hard not to feel every inch of him. 

“Don’t be so rough,” Johnny tuts.

“Don’t be a backseat vouyer,” John retorts. 

“She’s being good for you, why are you being so mean?”

“This is part punishment, remember?” You listen to the clone click his tongue, and then he’s tearing your blindfold off. “Besides, I like how she looks when she cries.”

This is so sick and twisted.

If John is saying this, it means that somewhere, buried inside your soft boyfriend, he also likes seeing your eyes well with tears. 

You struggle to open your eyes, looking up at John. He’s staring down at you, and he releases a deep groan when he notices you watching him. “You love this, don’t you, baby? You love being used like our little fuck toy. Love taking this big cock deep in your fucking throat-”

You hate that he’s right.

Your panties must be soaked by now.

“Fuck-” Johnny whispers, and you wonder how it looks for him to watch himself fuck your face like this. “Okay, that’s enough.”

“It’s enough when I say it’s enough.”

“It’s enough,” your boyfriend states, firmer this time. 

“Someone finally grew a backbone,” John laughs, pulling his cock from your mouth. You gasp at the loss, a line of spit still connecting you to the rock-hard length in front of your face. Tears trail down your cheeks, and you’re breathing heavily. You dig your fingers into John’s thighs, marveling in the moment of reprieve. 

“Are you alright, baby?” Johnny asks. When you turn to look at him, concern is evident all over his face.

You nod, and it takes a moment for you to find your voice. “Yes, daddy.”

“Fuck, I forgot she calls us that sometimes.”

“She calls me daddy sometimes,” Johnny corrects, “and only when she’s in subspace- you really did a number on her.” 

“We did a number on her. You started it with the spankings, remember?” 

Johnny ignores his clone, reaching down to help you to your feet. He leads you to sit on the bed, getting onto his knees so he can be eye level with you. “He wasn’t too rough on you, was he?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“You’re still good for this?”

You nod, reaching forward to grab at the front of his white tshirt. Johnny lets you pull him in for a kiss, his large hands smoothing along your thighs.

Your tongue dips out to stroke his own and your boyfriend groans, squeezing you through your jeans. “Pants off,” he says, dragging his lips from yours so he can begin to tear your clothes from your body.

It’s shocking how quickly he gets you down to your underwear, and then he pushes you onto the bed. He pries your thighs open, and you feel two sets of dark eyes on your core.

“Already soaked. I knew you liked being our good little cock slut.” 

“I guess I should give you a taste first, seeing as the only cock that’s going inside this pussy tonight is mine,” your boyfriend sighs, pressing one kiss to your knee before standing up to make space for his clone.

“Yeah, our cock.”

“My cock,” Johnny says, firmly this time. “You only get her mouth.”

“What’s the point of a demonic threesome if she’s not going to be properly double stuffed?” John asks, sinking down onto the floor between your spread thighs. 

“One in the pussy, one in the mouth is double stuffed.”

“We both know I want her ass,” John rolls his eyes.

“I’ve never even been in her ass, don’t get greedy.” Johnny clicks his tongue.

Their bantering is doing something to you. The way they discuss this so confidently as if you’re not even in the room- you’re getting a view of Johnny’s inner thoughts, the battles he has with his demonic self-

He’s never talked to you about anal. But then again, his cock is so big it had taken you a while to even be able to receive it fully in your pussy, let alone somewhere else. 

“If you’re good tonight, I’ll consider conjuring you again,” Johnny says finally.

You swallow thickly, gaze shifting to your soft boyfriend who’s really taken the reigns over his demonic double. John chuckles between your legs, shaking his head slightly before pressing his lips to your inner thigh.

“Did you hear that, baby?” John asks. “Sounded like a challenge to make you cum.” 

“Then I guess…” your voice is much to hoarse and shuddery for your liking, “I guess you better not disappoint.” 

The clone between your legs scoffs loudly. “As if disappointing you was ever an option.”

You open your mouth to respond, only for John to press his face against your panty-covered core. His tongue flicks through the soaked fabric, teasing by your clit and making your legs twitch. Your hands fly to grab at his dark hair, and a whimper slips out of you.

He’s being a tease, and from the way he’s looking up at you, smirking while kissing your pussy through your panties, John clearly knows what he’s doing. You shift under his mouth, laying back against the bed and pushing your core closer to him, tightening your grip in his hair.

“Please-”

“Begging already?” Johnny asks, moving to sit next to you on the bed. “Thought you’d hold out a little longer.”

“Can’t,” you mewl, arching your back as John pulls your panties to the side, blowing cool air along your throbbing cunt. “I need-” You lick your lips, gaze dropping to Johnny’s hard cock.

“You want something to suck on, don’t you, baby?” Johnny grins, reaching out to stroke your face as his clone’s tongue dives into your core.

“Yes,” you nod, accepting your boyfriend’s thumb past your lips. You moan around the digit, thighs clenching as John sucks lewdly on your clit, flicking at it with his tongue while you stroke Johnny’s finger with your own.

“I guess I can let you suck me off for a bit, get you ready to take him in your throat-” Johnny muses. “But I want you on all fours, I wanna fuck your face, and I can’t do it at this angle.”

The man between your thighs pulls away suddenly, and his large hands easily flip you over, getting you ready for your boyfriend. It must be nice for him to have such a willing participant in the bedroom- you’re pretty sure Johnny could make any command, and John would follow through with getting it set up for him.

They have a one-track mind, and you’d bet your life that John is just as excited to get you on all fours as Johnny is.

Two large hands grip your ass, spreading your cheeks while Johnny shuffles to his knees and presents his cock to you. As you accept Johnny past your lips, a tongue presses into your wet hole again, and your toes curl at the stimulus. 

“Just like that, baby,” Johnny coos, pushing your hair out of your face. “You suck on me, while he sucks on you.” 

John growls against your clit, squeezing your ass roughly and shaking his head back and forth, earning a squeal that’s muffled by Johnny’s cock, which begins to glide in and out of your mouth.

“It’s funny- I can almost taste you,” Johnny muses. “I wonder if he can feel you on his cock like I can-”

The double pulls his lips from your pussy, and you can feel him momentarily panting, trying to catch his breath from the enthusiastic way he’s been eating you out. “I can feel it,” John confirms. “She’s always so good at sucking us off, even if she can’t fit much of us in that little mouth of hers.”

“She’s gotten better at blow jobs,” Johnny defends you, sinking further past your lips. “When she started, she could hardly take three inches, now look at her.”

His cock hits the back of your throat and you fight through your gag reflex. Your eyes are watering, so you shut them, focusing on being a good girl for your boyfriends.

Boyfriends. Plural. 

You suppose - in this sex-induced haze - you’re already thinking of John as a lover. Any man eating you out as chaotically and thoroughly as he should be considered one, right?

When John’s mouth returns to your pussy and his thumb begins to circle your asshole, you definitely think of him as a boyfriend. Only your boyfriend is allowed to toy with you like this.

“Are you serious?” Johnny’s voice distracts you, the thrusts of his face fucking slowing down. “We just discussed no anal-”

“It’s just a finger,” the clone retorts. “She’ll love it. She’s already practically dripping- reacting all nice and pretty just from the thought, isn’t that right, baby?”

A gentle smack on your ass prompts you to pull off of Johnny’s cock, bracing yourself against one of his thighs while you catch your breath. You find yourself nodding, moaning like a whore in heat. “Please- I can take a finger, I can try-”

“We knew jealousy was a part of this, envy- one of the seven cardinal sins,” teeth graze your butt cheek. “I’m jealous of you getting her mouth and pussy, I’m sure you can suffer through watching me finger fuck this tight ass for the first time. We both know you’ll be the first to actually fuck it sooner or later- why can’t you let me have this one win? Come on Johnny, she’ll love it. You conjured me to make her feel good, didn’t you?” 

“Fuck, you’re too convincing,” Johnny sighs, stroking your face. “Beg him for it, baby. I need to know you actually want this.”

“I want it so bad,” you whimper, a rush of emotion flooding through you. “Please, I wanna be full- I wanna feel it-” A strangled gasp escapes your lips when John spits on your ass, rubbing the fluid around your tight hole before pressing the tip of his finger inside of you. “Oh my god-”

Johnny threads his fingers through your hair, tugging so you’re forced to look up at him. “The moment you cum, we’re switching positions and I’m fucking you, got it, baby?” 

“Yes, daddy,” you moan.

“Now open up.”

You do as you’re told, and Johnny slips his cock back into your mouth, picking up where he’d left off.

Generally, when you’re blowing Johnny, it’s hard to focus on anything else. But today, it’s hard to focus on anything other than John, whose finger fills your ass perfectly while his tongue circles your clit like magic.

You can feel a pleasure bubbling in the pit of your stomach, and each rough thrust from Johnny has your body tensing, the orgasmic coil wrapping tighter and tighter-

Despite the cock in your mouth, lewd sounds are escaping you. A gurgling noise that you know you should be ashamed of- but you can’t bring yourself to care, mind occupied on the high that’s approaching much too quickly.

It’s clear that John wants you to cum. He wants to tear your pleasure out of you faster than you can even think-

His thumb massages your inner walls, stretching your tight hole open and making your toes curl.

“That’s it baby,” Johnny praises you, his grip tight in your hair while he fucks your face. “Taking us both so well.”

You can feel a tear of overstimulation roll down your cheek. This is almost too much for you to handle, and you haven’t even cum yet.

One particularly rough thrust has your throat constricting around Johnny, and it’s the last bit of stimulus you need to come completely undone for your Johns. Your abdomen tenses, and just like that, the chord snaps. It snaps hard. 

You tear your mouth off of Johnny’s cock, practically screaming as your orgasm rips through you like wildfire. Your whole body is alight with pleasure, clit throbbing, pussy contracting around nothing, your ass sucking up John’s finger to betray the deep need that’s grown within you-

All you can do is moan like a desperate whore, clinging to Johnny’s thigh while John helps you ride out your orgasm. The double is unrelenting, as if he wants to work you for every last drop you can give him- his tongue switching between slurping at your clit and diving past your folds, stroking your walls as they shudder.

“Good girl,” Johnny groans, petting your head with one hand while the other wraps around his cock, stroking himself through your high. He’s patient with you, allowing you to experience every shiver and moan, until your walls stop contracting, and John pulls away from your pussy with a wet smack of his lips. “Time for the main event.”

His words make you feel drenched all over again. John pulls his thumb from your ass only to smack it roughly, giving you a squeeze for good measure. “Be sweet for us,” the double warns, as if you’ve ever been anything but their perfect princess. 

In just a few moments, Johnny and John have switched. Your light-haired boyfriend sets up behind you while the dark double settles by your face. His cock is red, leaking precum, and you realize you’ve hardly done much to touch him tonight- seeing as he just made you cum, you waste no time wrapping your lips around the mushroom tip, stroking your tongue along the ridge  you find there.

“Fuck,” John groans, threading his fingers through your hair to anchor you like your boyfriend had just minutes ago. “Who’s our good little cock whore?”

“She is,” Johnny answers for you, sinking his cock deep into your pussy. “Fuck, our perfect little cock whore.”

He’s never called you this before- but it sounds so natural coming from him and his clone. Is this yet another one of your boyfriend’s fantasies? First anal, and now you being a good little cock whore? 

Johnny is generally a man who sticks to praise, and while he’s still doing that- there’s this darker underlayer beginning to be more evident. Maybe you don’t know him as well as you thought. This threesome with your boyfriend’s dark self is illuminating for not only your twisted sexual desires, but Johnny’s as well. 

You can’t help the way you react to the term ‘cock whore,’ your pussy clenching tight around the large cock splitting you open. You begin to drool on John too, relaxing your throat as he begins to fuck your face. He might be a dark double, but John’s being shockingly soft with the amount you can take. He’s not thrusting fully- not making you gag and cry- he’s using you like a man who knows and respects your limits.

At least Johnny’s respect for you transcends form.

“You know what?” Johnny says. “I watched how hard she came with your thumb in her ass, I think you’re right about filling her up properly.”

“Bet she’ll go fucking feral for three holes filled,” the clone agrees darkly, making you moan around his cock. “See? Listen to her. She sounds like a bitch in heat. Fill her up, Johnny. She’ll fucking love it.” 

These men are downright insatiable- you kind of love it.

Just like his double had, Johnny spits onto your hole, and a moment later, his thumb is pressing past the tight ring of muscles. Your boyfriend’s thrusts falter slightly, his focus lingering on the way you swallow up his digit, fluttering around both foreign intrusions. 

“If we’d have known you’d like butt stuff this much, we would have started training you ages ago, baby,” John muses. 

“We’ve still got time.”

“I won’t get to fuck her ass tonight. What time do I have?”

“Next time.”

“So I passed the test? There’s gonna be a next time?”

“Based on how our baby is reacting, I’d say there’s definitely going to be a next time,” Johnny laughs. 

“Good. I might be a clone from hell, but I think never getting the chance to truly fuck this little kitten of ours would be the true torture.” 

The warlock fucking you while pressing his thumb deeper into your ass scoffs loudly. “And we can’t have that, can we?” 

“No.” John tightens his grip in your hair, fucking you harder. “We can’t… also, I have something to admit.”

“Oh?” Johnny releases a chuckle, thumb stilling inside of you. “Now this I have to hear.” 

“You’re under the impression I’ll be conjured until you light your hair and alter on fire, but unfortunately, at the moment, I’m bound to the candle as well. You missed the fine print in the Grimoire. When the candle reaches its end, I’ll disappear too.” 

In your periphery, you’re aware of both men turning to look toward the alter, and your boyfriend releases a small curse word. “I guess we better make this quick.”

“And you should buy a bigger candle next time, that six incher you used tonight is a fucking joke and we both know it.” 

“My bad,” Johnny begins railing into you as hard as he had so far, pressing his thumb deep inside of you. “Guess I’m not the best at reading the fine print.”

“It’s okay, something tells me baby can only take so much more of this. She’s drooling all over my cock, her throat all nice and open, so ready to be fucked-” John groans loudly. 

“We’ve really fucked her stupid, haven’t we, Big Guy?”

Your skin tingles- there’s an inkling of something deeper in Johnny’s tone… is he… is he flirting with himself?

The man above you moans louder. “Of course we did. Have you ever seen anyone with a better cock than this? And for her to get two of us? She’s the luckiest fucking girl in the whole world- I want her to thank us when we cum. Want her to know how fucking blessed she is by this.”

It’s an interesting paradox- to be blessed by a demonic threesome. 

“Are you gonna cum on her face?”

“Fuck, if you let me. She’ll look so pretty all painted in cum.”

“She can’t say thank you if you keep her mouth full,” Johnny notes, digging his fingers against your hips while railing you as hard as ever. Each smack of his hips against your ass has his cock fully buried in your wet core, the tip of his length pressing against your cervix and making your toes curl with insatiable need. 

“No, I guess she can’t.” John stuffs himself fully in your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat. You’ve never felt impaled like this- taking two of the largest dicks you’ve ever had- 

Your nose brushes by the dark clone’s pubic hair, and something about it makes you feel even more sinful, your throat constricting while lewd gagging noises fill the room. John holds you on his cock, letting out a deep groan at the feeling of your muscles tightening around him-

“That’s it baby, just a little more-”  

“Fuck, she’s squeezing so fucking tight-” Johnny moans from behind you.

“I can feel it,” John breathes.

“When you cum, I’ll have to cum-”

“She’s close too-”

“Fuck.” Johnny pulls his thumb out of your ass suddenly, wrapping his hand around your front so two fingers can circle your clit. At the same time, John takes his cock from your mouth, releasing a loud moan-

You cum in unison with the dark double, and from the loud grunt at your rear, you’re pretty sure Johnny’s just reached his peak as well.

You’re breathing heavily, mind completely delirious. Your throat feels raw as you swallow thickly- “Thank you, fuck, thank you, thank you, thank you-” you begin to blabber as John cums hard on your face, his large hand jerking himself off while ropes paint your skin.

“Good girl, good fucking girl-” Johnny groans behind you, fucking you through your highs while his fingers continue on your clit, drawing out your orgasm while your pussy milks him for every drop of cum he has. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you-” you can’t stop saying it, even while tears and cum begin to drip down your cheeks, your body completely overwhelmed by the two men who know you like the back of their hand.

Above you, John releases one last shuddery breath. He strokes your hair, whispering the word “Perfect-” and then, just as suddenly as he’d appeared, he disappears.

You collapse forward onto the bed, pussy still throbbing around Johnny, who slowly comes to a stop behind you.

Then he’s collapsing as well, laying his warm body against your back and pressing you against the mattress. His lips are hot along your bare shoulders and he seeks out your neck, teasing past your ear.

“You did so good for us,” he praises you. “Such a perfect baby.”

“Johnny-” you whimper, as deep in subspace as you’ve ever been in your whole life.

“I know, baby, I know. You don’t have to talk.” You hear him swallow thickly, and with one last kiss to your throat, he pulls away. “I’m gonna get you in a bath. Gonna wash all this cum off of you and cuddle you to sleep, sound good?”

“Please-” you moan, pussy clenching around him again.

“Fuck,” he groans, pulling his cock out of your tight, dripping hole. “We really did a number on you.”

But in all honesty, you really wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! dream threesome tbh

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🔮 preview. “What happened to your manners, baby?” John’s grip increases again, making your head dizzy. “You were sweeter to me last time. Only sweet girls get fucked in the ass. So are you going to be sweet for me? Or am I going to have to punish you into submission?” 

cw/ tw. Threesome, unprotected sex, anal, blow job, oral, praise, dirty talk, degradation, y/n calls Johnny daddy a few times,  demonic double John is a bit of a dick, anal fingering, double penetration (pussy/ass), big dick Johnny, pussy/ass stretching, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.7k I teaser wc. 270

🌙 staring. Johnny & John x afab!Reader

bonus

“Surprise, surprise. I didn’t think you two would conjure me again so soon.” 

Your heart skips a beat as you turn to find John standing by the door. It’s been less than a month since you’ve seen him last, and like that first time, he’s dressed as the mirror image of your boyfriend. However, it’s not a white shirt and blue jeans, this time, your boyfriend had gone for full black attire, and it matches the dark hair of his demonic double in a way that has you practically throbbing already.

“What can we say?” Johnny grins. “We liked having an extra set of hands.”

“As if our hands are the best thing about us,” John rolls his eyes, pushing off from the wall. He approaches you like a predator, and you’d missed the swagger in his step, it’s a unique stride that has your heart picking up pace in your chest. “There’s no lying to me, not when I know everything you know, Johnny. I’m here tonight because our perfect little baby is finally ready for the main attraction. She wants to be double stuffed. Fully.” 

“I guess there’s no point in fucking around,” Johnny laughs, “even if we do have more time than last I conjured you.”

Your gaze shifts to the massive candle burning on the altar. You and Johnny had gone to six different spell shops to find the largest one possible- it’s almost as big as Johnny’s dick when he’s hard, and girthy too. You’ve got all the time in the world tonight- even so, you don’t want to waste a second.

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Keep you close

Prompt: Tugging at the other's clothes to keep them close

Pairing: Kelly Severide x reader

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

You'd always had the awful habit of wandering off. As a kid you had been an absolute nightmare for your parents, silent footsteps trotting away at the smallest of things. A shirt you saw across the store, a street performer, or a cat in an alleyway. You were excitable with a short attention span and far too adept at unintentional escapes and as such had caused premature greying in your mother's hair.

As you grew older you'd managed to calm down some, you were still prone to wandering off with no warning, but you no longer straight up disappeared to chase a butterfly.

In fact, many of your now friends hadn't picked up on your habits due to how switched on you were at work. Paramedicine had no place for a lack of focus, and whenever you did wander it was for the job.

The habit had only really started to show its self when you frequented Molly’s. You fluttered between groups like a butterfly on crack, the overheard snippets of more interesting conversations sometime leading you to leave a conversation midway through. You didn’t intend to be rude but it was hard to keep talking to Cap when Otis was starting a debate on aliens.

Alcohol tended to only exacerbate your condition. Though the running away become purposeful instead of accidental. You had pulled a runner quite a few times before your friends learned to guard the door from your menacing ways. Apparently running away while drunk was a common enough phenomenon for many people so your actions weren’t overly questioned.

To almost everyone’s surprise, it is Severide that becomes your keeper 9 times out of 10. Always appearing just as you had stood to dash away and tugging at your clothes to force you back into a seat. He becomes so adept at the motion that most times you don’t even get to stand before one of his hands is lashing out to latch onto your shirt.

The first time it happens on shift you don’t think much of it, chalking it up to him protecting you from an aggressive patient. The second time it happens you are slightly mystified, glancing back at him for an explanation. All you get is a nod towards the encroaching crowd that is starting to crowd around your patients. You aren’t too happy, but still let it slide, a small part of you giddy that Kelly cared enough to stop you from being overwhelmed. The third time however, gives you pause, and even the squad members that had witnessed the interaction seemed shocked.

You had been walking past the table where squad 3 was engrossed in what seemed like a heated game of scrabble when Kelly’s hand had shot out to grab you. He had played it off as needing an objective judge to veto certain words. That would have been fine, except that his hand had remained clenched around your shirt well after he should have let go.

From there it becomes near constant, you always sit next to him for lunch now, his grabby hands not allowing you to wander far. Most times it doesn’t even seem like he realises what he’s doing, nor does he notice the perplexed looks the members of firehouse 51 shoot him at every confirmed instance. Eventually the tugged clothes evolves into, wrists and hands wherever possible and you can’t help but to feel you are dreaming everytime it happens.

It becomes somewhat of a game amongst you and your family, to see how long it takes upon you entering a room for Kelly to grab you. Or if you can ever manage to sneak past him without being thwarted. Nobody ever says anything directly to him though, your glares enough to warn them away. Because as much as you were confused, you found the whole thing incredibly cute. Especially when his hand moved like it had a mind of its own, reaching out to grab one of your own even if his eyes didn’t leave whatever he was focused on.

In a rare turn of events, it is a sober you escorting a slightly tipsy but still aware Kelly back home, fingers entwined from where he’d grabbed to pull you along. Looking down at how perfectly your hands seem to fit together you can’t stop yourself from asking anymore,

“Kelly, why are you always grabbing me? It’s not like I’m going to run away at work.” He stops at your words, turning to look at you with what you think is incredulity.

“I thought it was obvious” he replied, before leaning in with a flirty grin, “I just like having you close by, getting to hold your hand is just a bonus.”

Your heart stutters at the confession paired with the warmth that encompasses Kelly’s eyes when he looks at you. Your mouth moves before you can stop it,

“I’m going to kiss you now” your voice sounds foreign to your ears, as if you are underwater and you almost don’t realise you’ve said it. That is until Kelly positively beams in reply, leaning even closer to you as you throw caution to the wind and close the gap. The hand that isn’t wrapped in his comes up to the back of his neck, lightly hold him against you as you smile dumbly into the kiss.

Neither of you really discuss what the kids means for the future, but neither do you let go of each other. Not even when Kelly throws you the keys to his car, and not when he tugs your head down to lie against his chest, your hand clenched around his shirt as you sleep. The two of you continue like that as you find your groove, only Kelly is no longer the only one with a desire to keep someone close. Tugging against his short collar to demand kisses quickly becomes one of your favourite activities.

Otis and Cruz are the first to lay witness upon you tugging at the back of Kelly’s shirt as he tries to walk past where you are sat on the couch. The two stare with open mouths when the lieutenant actually does stop like nothing is wrong with the situation. Rushing over to demand an explanation when Kelly eventually takes his leave.

“I just like having him close” you shrug with an innocent smile, before standing and making your way to the chiefs office. A journey which you is quickly joined by said lieutenant, the slight tug on your shirt sleeve announcing his presence as the two of you enter the chief’s office. Boden took one look at the close proximity and matching grins and simply sighed, handing over what looked to be pre-prepared forms for HR.

The cat is very quickly let out of the bag to your friends when Kelly tugs you into his lap for all to see and you make no effort to escape, settling contently into him. An action that is almost immediately banned within the firehouse. Molly’s remains free game though, no matter how much Otis complains at the blatant affection.

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Cooper Adams x Reader • Includes themes of violence, murder, blood is mentioned often, period sex, infidelity, oral sex (m&f receiving) Reader and Cooper are both certified freaks seven days a week

You’d suspected for awhile.

You’d wondered even longer.

The question you’d wanted to ask Cooper had sat silent on your tongue so long, you’d have sworn you could taste it by now.

Even still, no amount of wondering could have prepared you for this moment: standing face to blood-streaked face with the man you loved, the question on your tongue quietly dying as it no longer needed answering-

Cooper Adams, your boyfriend, was The Butcher…

He stood still, lingering in the doorway, the one at the back of the house. Cooper had brought you here a couple of times, to smoke and fuck; and each time, he’d always brought you through that door, the one less likely to draw attention from neighbors. The house was isolated, but not completely. With Cooper being a married man, you’d understood his concerns and hadn’t objected to being brought in through the back of the house. Now however, it was obvious that he used the back door to conceal a much darker secret than his infidelity.

His left eye twitched, lips forced into a placating smile that chilled you to your core. “(Y/N)?” Cooper began, his voice wavering. “What are you doing here?” You swallowed as cracks in Cooper’s fake smile began to reveal themselves. Heavy rain pelted the ground behind him, lightning briefly illuminating his silhouette, tall and intimidating. He tightened his grip on the duffel bag slung over his shoulder; the sudden movement made you flinch, which Cooper found amusing.

Blood caked his jeans and the plaid flannel button-down he wore. His hair was tossed to the sides of his face, except for a few strands that seemed to be matted against his forehead with sweat. Cooper’s jaw was tight, the muscles in his neck flexing as he chewed the inside of his mouth, thinking. He’d have to get rid of you now, and that upset him. Cooper had enjoyed you, and not just fucking you. He’d grown fond of your dark sense of humor and the way both your mind and his seemed to play well with each other.

If he was being totally honest with himself, Cooper could even admit that he loved you. He’d confided in you, shared secrets of his past, his traumatic upbringing, the way he’d never been accepted by his mother or anyone else for that matter, until meeting his wife. And later, meeting you.

Your histories and minds were similar, in so many ways. Unfortunately, you’d proven yourself too clever for your own good…too clever to keep alive.

Cooper sighed, his insincere smile returning. “This is going to hurt,” he said, nodding for emphasis. “I mean that, (Y/N).” He took a step toward you; you shifted backward. “And I’m not even talking about the pain,” he continued. “Not the kind you’ll feel…” Cooper removed something from the bag, his eyes fixed on yours. It took you a second to identify the knife in his hand; it was so caked with partially-dried blood, you could barely make out what it was.

“…I’m talking about the pain I’ll feel,” Cooper continued, bringing the soiled knife to rest against his chest. “Here…in my heart.” He kicked his heel against the door, closing it behind him with a loud thud. You jumped, recoiling at the sound. Cooper held his hands tensed at his sides, the knife tucked under his right thumb. “I don’t want to lose you,” he said, taking another step closer. You didn’t back away this time; your mind was racing for a solution, for a way to make Cooper understand that killing you wasn’t necessary.

“Then don’t,” you told him, trying to sound brave. You hoped he couldn’t see you trembling, couldn’t hear the plea in your next words even as you tried to suppress it: “Don’t kill me, Cooper…”

His expression was bittersweet, a resigned sigh leaving his chest. “They all say that,” Cooper told you, his voice eerily calm. “None of them want to die, (Y/N). They all beg me not to kill them.” He changed his voice to a slightly higher pitch, imitating his victims. “ ‘Don’t kill me, please…I’ll do anything, please…Just let me go, I won’t tell anyone’ .” Cooper’s free hand shot out and grabbed you by the wrist, tugging you into him, erasing the remaining space between you. “What makes you think you’re any different from the rest of the people I’ve murdered?” he glared down at you.

A tear rolled down your cheek, so hot it burned. “I’m different because I love you, Cooper,” you told him. And you meant it. His grip on your wrist softened immediately, the tension in his jaw easing. “I don’t care that you’re The Butcher, or whatever stupid nickname they’ve given you,” you continued. “I accept you. Cooper, I love you.” A few seconds passed in silence. “Have any of the others ever said that?”

Cooper’s eyebrows were drawn together in concentration as he wrestled with the conflicting messages inside him. One said to protect himself by ending your life. The second option was much more tempting for Cooper, to grant you the mercy of life, a privilege which he alone now held.

Cooper pressed his lips to the top of your head, his knife ghosting your cheek as he used the hand that held it to stroke your hair. His breath was heavy, his chest rumbling against your cheek as he spoke. “What am I going to do with you?” Cooper asked. It wasn’t a question at all, not really. You lifted your chin, eyes fixed on Cooper’s, tilting your head so the blade in his hand was deliberately primed against your throat. An offering up, not of surrender, but of submission. He’d seen his share of tears, heard more than enough screams to fill his ears a lifetime; but the way your resistance melted in front of him touched something in Cooper that hadn’t been touched in a long time, if ever. Faced with the darkest part of his soul, you still accepted him.

You placed a hand tentatively on Cooper’s forearm, where the sleeves of his shirt were rolled to his elbows. While his hands were clean from wearing gloves, Cooper’s forearms were spattered with blood, a viscous crimson syrup drying in the tufts of hair lining his skin. He repeated his question, a huskier, seductive tone making his meaning crystal clear: “…what am I going to do with you?”

Cooper released his grip on the knife. It fell to the floor with a clatter, as lightning lit up the room, thunder rumbling close by. He was bent forward slightly so your foreheads could touch, his eyes drifting closed as you smoothed your hands across his broad shoulders. Warm breath dusted your neck as Cooper’s kiss traveled down the slope of your shoulder, his big hands securing you in place at the small of your back. The energy between you was electric, buzzing like an alarm whose warning you refused to heed. You were in too deep, now. With Cooper, you always had been.

He began to work the buttons of his flannel undone, as you went down to your knees. You looked up at Cooper from between his feet, his heavy boots caked with mud and grass from the storm outside. Lightning struck very close to the house; the lights flickered as thunder bellowed from above. And then, the room went dark, moonlight alone providing any visual for the two of you.

Cooper was unaffected by the loss of electricity. He folded his shirt and set it aside, hands moving to undo his belt and jeans. Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness quickly; you were able to make out the image of Cooper, his hulking frame towering over yours, stray strands of hair fallen forward as he watched you at his feet. You were on your knees in front of The Butcher himself, and it felt…exhilarating. Rather than making a plea for your life, your tongue was gently pleading for his sex, padding thick and wet against the outline of Cooper’s erection.

He tugged his zipper down and freed his cock, the wet tip tapping against your lips in the darkness. You felt Cooper’s hand come to rest atop your head, his fingers knotting softly inside your hair, guiding you gently onto him. The only sounds in the room were Cooper’s shallow breaths and grunts, and the wet sucking sound of your throat closing around him. Cooper let you suck him a moment longer, before removing his cock from your mouth, breathily explaining “-the shower, baby-want to fuck you in the shower.” He felt around the floor for his duffel bag and retrieved a flashlight from inside it. Switching it on, Cooper smiled when he saw your streaked makeup in the light, knowing his cock had made a mess of it. He held the flashlight between his teeth and trotted upstairs with you, using the beam to light your way.

The bathroom in its entirety wasn’t that large but thankfully, the shower was. Cooper switched on the faucet and held his arm under the water stream to check the temperature, bits of dried blood re-wetting and dripping to the shower floor. You’d quickly discarded your own clothes and stepped inside, around the water stream till Cooper had adjusted it. He shed his pants and hastily folded them before tossing them onto the sink. He was in a hurry; he’d never wanted you this badly before.

The flashlight’s battery was almost dead, its last real bit of power used on the way upstairs. Now, you and Cooper were essentially in complete darkness again, except for the moonlight threading through the small bathroom window. Cooper had no trouble manipulating your body in the darkness. His right hand slipped immediately between your thighs, reaching around with his other arm and pulling your chest into his. Warm water cascaded down Cooper’s back and shoulders, dripping along his chest and between your breasts where your bodies were pressed together. His fingers rubbed rough circles over your clit, making your hips buck into the heel of his palm as you selfishly chased your climax. “That’s a good girl,” Cooper murmured in the darkness, his breath labored with arousal. “Gonna come for me just like this, yeah?” You whimpered a reply, but Cooper wasn’t satisfied. “Oh, you can do better than that, sweetheart,” he said. “Use your words. Tell me how you’re gonna come-.” He dipped his head forward, teeth catching the soft skin of your neck and biting just enough to make you squirm even more wildly on his hand. “Ungh-on-oh!” you squeaked, your hips trembling. “-On your h-hand, S-Sir!”

Cooper’s face was stoic but satisfied in the darkness; he was in his element, his happy place. He was in control. As you quivered and shook on his hand cupping your pussy, Cooper slid his other hand around your throat, briefly silencing your scramble of moans and whimpers. “WORDS, baby,” he gently reprimanded, his fingertips tapping against your pulse. “Can’t give you what you want till you ask for it-.”

Cooper slipped a finger between your lips, hooking around the smooth spot inside you, your spongy walls sucking his finger greedily. Your head fell backward, a string of desperate pleas tumbling from your mouth, interspersed with Cooper’s name. He let you come, giving you what you needed because you’d asked for it so nicely. You gushed all over Cooper’s hand and wrist, slick spilling between his fingers and onto the shower floor. He couldn’t see it in the darkness, and he didn’t need to; he could feel your blood on his fingers, knew the texture well and that your orgasm had surely painted the shower floor red at his feet.

He removed his finger from inside you, once you’d stopped squeezing it, and popped the slippery digit inside his mouth. A coppery, musky flavor sank warm on his tastebuds; Cooper exhaled gratefully through his nose, releasing his finger only after sucking every drop of you from it.

Lightning crackled above the house as Cooper lowered himself to his knees in front of you. You rested your hands on his shoulders, leaning into his sturdy frame as he sank his mouth between your legs. Cooper’s tongue found exactly what he’d hoped to find, what he craved…more of your sweet arousal tinged with the bitter tang of fresh blood.

You knew you were bleeding; your period had started that morning. You also knew that Cooper had a preference for fucking you on your period; you’d just never really thought much of it. The truth was, the blood aroused Cooper, reminded him of his other, secret life, and the power he held over others. Seeing himself covered in someone else’s blood, especially such intimate places like his cock, helped Cooper achieve the most powerful orgasms imaginable. It’s one of the reasons he’d grown to love you; your openness to trying literally anything sexually was liberating, allowing Cooper the chance to indulge his most taboo fantasies. One of those fantasies included eating you out on your period. He’d tried to bring other women around to the idea, but each of them had been repulsed by even the suggestion. You, however, had no reservations about letting Cooper use your body however he wanted, in whatever state it was in…

His tongue bathed your outer lips, licking them clean. Cooper massaged his cock in lazy strokes, in no hurry to come just yet. When the tip of his tongue pressed inside you, he grinned against your pussy at the way your soft, wet entrance trembled around him.

One of your hands was now on Cooper’s head, fingers locked in the strands of his hair. When he hoisted your leg over his left shoulder, you braced yourself against him, knowing he wouldn’t let you fall. Cooper held you steady as he nuzzled and lapped your essence, his eyes closed in a kind of reverent, trance-like high. It was the closest Cooper had ever come to a religious experience, drinking your most precious offering at the altar of your thighs, and for him, it was more than enough.

When he’d made you come twice more on his tongue, Cooper rose to stand, pressing red kisses to your belly and breasts that looked like lipstick marks. He reached for you in the darkness, his hands pulling your hips closer. You felt Cooper’s erection prodding between your thighs, and closed your hands around it. He hissed in a sharp breath as you grazed his tip; he was so sensitive, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Get on your knees,” Cooper panted urgently, his hand on your head pushing you downward. You sank to the shower floor, letting Cooper guide his cock into your mouth in the darkness. Lightning flashed outside, briefly revealing his blood-soaked lips parted in desperation, his eyes fixed on you at his feet while he used your mouth for his own satisfaction.

Cooper finished down your throat with a growl, his stomach tense as hot streams of cum pulsed over your tongue. You swallowed his seed with a contented grin, humming softly around Cooper’s shaft as you tugged the last drops of his cum between your lips.

The water continued to pour over your bodies as Cooper cradled you against his chest, rocking you gently. In that moment, he almost regretted his decision, almost thought of changing his mind. But there was no sense in getting sloppy after all these years, after so long a run of keeping his secret life secret.

Cooper glanced at the bathroom sink. A thin sliver of moonlight cast onto the knife you hadn’t noticed him bring upstairs along with the flashlight. He pressed his lips to your forehead one last time in a silent kiss goodbye, and reached toward the sink…

𝙸 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙷𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚢

| Hockey TeamVarious x Reader

Солнышко (Little Sun)

Yandere x reader (Part 1?)

—————————————————————————

An idea I have had for a while now.

So imagine yourself on a team. Except you’re not a player, no.

Actually..you’re technically not on the team because you’re one of a few people who rotates your position. You’re the mascot.

The beloved silly mascot of your team. The logo, the literal image of your hockey team. And you’re damn good too!

You get the crowds roaring, positively pumped-up for the game! And whether your team wins or loses, the highlights are always the silly little mascot who throws popcorn into the crowd or tosses shirts at unsuspecting families.

From time to time during the game you’d make your way onto the ice. Play fight with the team, steal a puck, steal a stick. Toss them to a crowd member. It was always in good fun, and the audience loved it!

And you weren’t just beloved by the fans, oh no no no, you were beloved by the team too.

So much so that at some point, the demand for your specific “mascotting” was so great, the other workers had to find a new career path. Damn shame too, you happened to like them quite a bit. But extra pay right? And it’s hard to deny how flattering it is being the fan favorite.

Of course it didn’t even cross your mind to question these circumstances, nor did you think to question the sudden increasing interactions you had with the team. Publicity, you assumed.

From number 47 dragging you onto the ice for some impromptu lessons. Still in costume might I add. Mid Play.

To number 13 laughing joyfully as he shoved you into the locker room after an intense game, and offered to wash your back for spending so long in such a sweaty suit. You denied him of course, the locker rooms weren’t meant for you! Duh.

You didn’t even question when number 1, the captain and goalie of the team, braced you against a barrier during half time, when your mask had precariously been knocked off by a rowdy fan. Nor did you see the viscous scowls directed at said fan. It was probably just keep your identity safe after all.

The score was 7 to 0 that game, in favour of your team. You weren’t sure what had pumped them up so much but whatever works right?

Course, you did get a puck to the cheek at one point and had to sub out for a bit. The players were non too happy when they discovered a different worker under your special suit. They were in a bad mood for the remainder of the game.

Number 19, who had a pension for bad behavior on the ice, sought you out specifically after the game too.

———-47—————19————1—————13———-

Your shoulders sagged tiredly against the cool wall of the changing room, blessing the AC that pumped through the units. Your jersey stuck sweatily to your skin, and you gasped with a dry mouth before a gloved hand appeared in your vision, a water bottle covered in condensation presented before you like a holy grail.

“You look like shit.” A scratchy voice scolds lightly by your ear, your eyes fluttering to glance at the rugged features of one of the team players settled besides your face, wedged deep into your personal space. The scent of sweat and body spray (axe probably) wafts into your nostrils, causing your nose to scrunch instinctively before you give a lopsided smile.

“Hey Donovan, s’nice to see you. How’s the play been?” You gratefully take the cold bottle from his grasp, finger tips grazing the rough and warm texture of his gloves before meeting the cool plastic of the team merchandise bottle. Your little mascot stared back at you in a 2D style.

“Shitty. You’re supposed to be out there, not some random loser who can’t even get the crowd excited right. Now the teams pissed and it’s your fault.” His words end in a sneer, despite the attentive way his eyes are raking across your figure for injury beyond the welt on your cheek bone. His body near touches yours and causes another wave of sweat to seep into your skin.

With a thoughtful hum and a sip of refreshing water you push yourself from the locker, stepping into the more open air and cooling yourself off, while dark brown eyes watch you beneath a furrowed, displeased brow.

“Your guys’s concern flatters me. It’s nice having such thoughtful co-workers.” Your lips smile thoughtfully, glancing at him from your shoulder.

He looks incredulous, which somehow lands on being the least aggressive expression you’ve ever seen on him.

“Co-workers?” He echoes, like the word is the most foul tasting thing that’s ever touched his tongue. “We’re teammates. Not co-workers.”

You wave your hand dismissively, back turned and unaware of the tall figure that approaches your bubble again from behind. “Well, you and the guys definitely are. Maybe even the ice scrapers, though I’d argue they’re in the same realm as me to be honest. More staff than anything yknow?” Your tone is light, you know what your position is. And of course you’re grateful to be the main mascot, but you’re aware of your replacements that stand idle at the food stands, handing out popcorn between half times.

“I mean I’m just the person in the suit, anyone could play that part. I just hope I could train the next guy that signs up for the position, gotta make sure they do my legacy justice right-“

Big hands, no longer covered by scratchy material grip into your hips, swallowing the skin in raw heat and tugging you backwards. Your feet stumble and trip for less then a second before you’ve collided into a broad chest. The feeling of a hot breath condenses on the back of your neck, covering up your barely escaped laugh and choke.

Hair tickles the side of your forehead, as Donovan leans over your shoulder. His eyes set forward to the opposing wall lockers just like your own, his thumbs rubbing thoughtless shapes into your skin. He exhales, like he’s just spent the last four hours dealing with an ill tempered toddler that he’s finally reached his wits end with.

“You’re stupid.”

Your lips part in offense, ready to defend your intelligence before you’re prematurely silenced by a new hand that joins the mass of limbs, and rests gently across your dry lips.

“Let him finish, Солнышко.”(Solnishko)*

A thick accent reverberates into your ears, your eyes darting up to meet pale blue ones that gaze back at you so sternly. White teeth peer past his lips in what was probably a smile, but looked like a show of dominance with the way his canines sunk into the bottom of his lip.

“Don’t you have a team to manage, Cap?” Donovan snarls, teeth bared with displeasure at his private time with you being interrupted. With his arms circling more around your figure in a loose version of a back hug. You stay trapped between the two behemoths that cease every noise and shift of your joints with careful hands.

Carlson smiles, a thoughtful one that softens at you, his eyes never leaving yours now that he has your full attention, something that raises Donovan’s ire significantly. “I heard our little mascot wasn’t doing to well. I wanted to check up on them. I may have heard your little conversation as well.”

The word “little” always manages to filter into Carlsons sentences. And while one could blame it on English only being his second language, his reputation for being the teams most well spoken member speaks volumes otherwise. No, the real reason would have to be the sheer height he holds above all others. The authority he possesses that seeps into the rink and every room he walks into.

It’s not a simple slip of the tongue. It’s a reminder. That he is above every one he meets. He is the captain, and what he says is absolute.

Even the way he gazes down at you screams this thought, bullying its way into your skull as your brain refuses to acknowledge the sheer possessive, demeaning energy that seeps from his figure into yours, despite the alarm bells it rings through your system.

“It breaks my heart, Солнышко. You should know better.” His thumb curves along your jaw, thoughtful again, and practiced, engulfing your entire chin in what could be a crushing grip. But it isn’t, and it never will be. Not to you anyway. “Have we not shown you how much we adore your support in the rink? Have we been too dismissive of you?” He continues, though the mocking edge is nearly unnoticeable.

Donovan’s breath huffs into the shell of your ear, his figure hunched over you like a protective cloak, eyes still staring daggers at the taller man. “You think the team can we wait for us to…help remind our dear mascot how much we care about them?”

There’s a thoughtful hum, eye contact still unbroken through each word. “I’m sure they’ll be mad they didn’t get to join…but their forms were lacking today. They could use the extra practice.”

Carlson leaned forward, sky like eyes darkening like the sea as his nose hovers mere breathes from your own. “And I’ve heard that teaching in…more intimate settings, can lead to greater success in many fields..”

.

.

.

.

.

“Again.”

“I will not think lowly of my position on the team, I will not think of myself as replaceable, because I am the best-“

“Fucking.”

“….the best fucking mascot in the world. I am irreplaceable. I am the best.”

“Very good. Again.”

“It’s been 30 minutes!”

“Well last time we did 15 and that still wasn’t enough, so now we must double our efforts, Солнышко. Again.”

“Afterwards I’ll buy you one of those pretzels you like. If you want, I guess.”

“…….yeah okay.”

ERIC (AQPDO)

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all eric stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) <3

MASTERLIST • 08/16/24

@fairyysoup ✰ easy living You ran into Eric on accident. Now you're facing the end of the world together. How do you get to know someone when you can't make a sound?

@websterss ✰ just trying to be brave The reader only knows of one way to calm him whilst he's having a panic attack during the madness, and they gently let him rest against their chest and listen to their heartbeat until he calms down

@lovebugism ✰ love and mercy you're more stubborn than the apocalypse. eric is the personification of a sad, wet dog. your world's collide when the world as you know it ends.

@corroded-hellfire ✰ shame is useless Sam has noticed how much you look at Eric, and encourages you to go for what you want because no one knows how much time there is left.

@sunsburns ✰ the great gig in the sky you had come to the library with only one thing in mind; to finish your final paper for class. but then there's this cute forgein lawyer asking you for help finding a book, and you think you're hitting it off with this guy but then the next thing you know, the world is ending. ✰ fallen fruit you and eric go on a supply run to help aid the mother and her child at your safe spot, where dozens of other survivors are hiding. it isn't too far of a journey, and travelling in groups is better than alone, however, when the military starts bombing the bridges in new york city, the two of you are forced to go into hiding after being chased by a death angel.

@eddiesxangel ✰ be quiet darling

@storiesforallfandoms ✰ i’d find you in any life in which two idiots in love find their way back to each other after the end of the world

@kitscutie ✰ hush after you obtain an injury which requires stitches, you do your best to keep absolutely silent.

@pasukiyo ✰ perhaps, perhaps, perhaps perhaps it's chance. perhaps it's happenstance. but perhaps it is fate.

@babybluebex ✰ needs and wants in the direct aftermath of the apocalypse, you meet a man who's worse for wear in just about every regard. even though you can't do too much to heal his injuries, it's possible that you can heal his heart.