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#ed warren fanfiction
doormatty3 · 5 months
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Sinner's Salvation: Chapter 2 (Ed Warren x Reader)
Masterlist Ao3
Summary:
[Ed Warren x Female Reader] [Ed Warren x You] You don't believe in the supernatural and superstition. Witchcraft and demonic occurrences are nothing but quackery to you. But when the room starts spinning, days start blurring into each other and shadows start dancing in every corner you wonder what is wrong with you. No doctor can tell you more about your condition - each and every one is insisting that you are fine and perfectly healthy.  Seeking alternative help, you stumble across Ed and Lorraine Warren.  They promise to help you, rid you of the demon that has taken hold of you - to drive it out. But you didn’t know what you signed up for and what an exorcism by Ed Warren entails.  OR: Ed shows you how well he can possess your body - and your cunt
Wordcount: 12055
Chapter: 2/2 (Chapter 1)
Warnings: 18+, fingering, facefucking, unprotected sex, cream pie, breeding, dubious consent, spanking, improper use of catholic rituals, church sex, rough oral sex
A/N: Well, that’s my ticket to hell for defiling church stuff - if my soul can be saved I’d happily let Patrick Wilson exorcise me
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Previous Chapter
CHAPTER 2
A weight settles in your chest as you gaze upon the imposing facade of the Warrens’ house. It feels surreal, as if the reality of being here now is a fragile dream.
In the glow of a well-lit yard, your attention is drawn to a chicken coop, complete with a nestled henhouse and a bustling assembly of a dozen or so chickens. The surroundings reveal a sizable and inviting house, adorned with the quaint charm of a small chapel adjacent to the garden.
After a moment’s hesitation, you press the doorbell, the sound resonating through the stillness. A few heartbeats later, Lorraine swings the door open, a beacon of warmth and smiles. A radiant figure framed by the doorway, her eyes alight with a newfound calmness that seems to have settled since the lecture. The weight of the outside world appears to have dissipated, replaced by a sense of ease that only home can bring. Her long brown hair cascades freely around her shoulders, a tangible reflection of the comfort found within these walls.
“Hey there! You made it,” Lorraine exclaims, her voice filled with genuine enthusiasm.
“Yeah, it’s... it’s really something,” you reply, still taking in the grandeur of the place as you try to calm your nerves.
Lorraine chuckles, seeing right through you: “Well, come on in, Ed’s waiting inside! I’ve got some fresh tea ready in the kitchen.”
The creaking wooden floor beneath your feet echoes when you step over the threshold. The air carries a timeless quality, and the scent of well-maintained woodwork envelops you, adding to the charm of the old house.
Glancing around, you observe the meticulous care evident in every nook and cranny. The cleanliness of the space speaks of dedicated upkeep, preserving the essence of the dwelling. The walls are adorned with a collection of pictures and paintings.
Upon closer inspection, you discover that the signature on each painting reads Ed Warren.
Lorraine notices your intrigued gaze and smiles, “Ed loves to capture moments and emotions on canvas.”
The images and brushstrokes weave a narrative of the Warrens’ interests, adding depth to the character of the house. Each stroke of the brush tells a story, and within the confines of those well-kept walls, and you can’t help but imagine Ed sitting in his studio, painting for hours. Would his brow furrow in concentration as his big hands paint such delicate things?
Lorraine leads you into the kitchen and you sense Ed’s gaze on you before you actually see him. Turning around, you find him seated at the kitchen table, a newspaper in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. His gaze is studying you intensely, magnified by the large glasses that obscure his eyes.
His eyes, perceptive and playful, travel down the length of your body before meeting your eyes again, a playful smirk gracing his full lips. The gesture leaves you flustered and shortly rendered breathless.
The room seems to grow warmer as you become acutely aware that Lorraine is watching your interaction, her keen eyes capturing the nuances of the unfolding situation.
Lorraine, her face still reflecting worry, chimes in: “We’ve been looking forward to having you here. Is everything all right? You seem a bit off.”
You attempt a reassuring smile: “Just a headache, nothing major. Must be the change in weather.”
But even as the words leave your lips, you sense they see through the facade.
“Well, we can't have our guest in distress. Perhaps a cup of tea will help ease that headache. Come, sit down”, Ed, ever perceptive, raises an eyebrow.
He rises from his seat with a deliberate grace, pulling a chair out with a courteous gesture. As you lower yourself into the seat, he subtly guides it in, his hands lingering on your shoulders for a moment longer than necessary. Through the thick fabric of your sweater, you feel the warmth of his touch.
“Make yourself comfortable, ” Ed says with a smile and a wink before walking away and sitting down opposite you, next to Lorraine.
Lorraine, with a caring demeanour, inquires further: “Have you experienced anything unusual lately? Dreams, strange occurrences, perhaps?”
You hesitate before answering: “Actually, there have been some strange dreams, and a few odd happenings. That’s partly why I took you up on your offer.”
Ed nods knowingly: “The supernatural has a way of making its presence known. We’re here to help, and we appreciate your trust in us.”
You delve into the details, your words weaving a tapestry of the dream’s vivid imagery.
“I..thought I was awake. I was sitting at my computer when I heard the sound of the front door opening. Given the day I had, I dismissed it as just another product of my imagination. However, curiosity got the better of me, and when I investigated, I saw that the door was open. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen and started to search the rooms. There was someone in the living room, I pleaded for them to leave, but... the figure charged at me. Without conscious thought, I stabbed the stranger. I was so disgusted and horrified by what I had done but… “
Lorraine listens intently, her eyes reflecting empathy. “Go on,” she encourages.
“But I reached for the knife lodged in the stranger's stomach and pulled it out. And I stabbed them again. And again. And I couldn’t stop. It was only when I removed the hood that I realised it was me, but not really me.”
As you recount the vivid dream that haunts your thoughts, tears well in your eyes and a heavy silence settles over the kitchen. Ed and Lorraine exchange a glance, their expressions turning serious, mirroring the gravity of your revelation.
Ed leans back, contemplating your words: “Dreams often manifest our internal struggles, the battle between conflicting emotions or aspects of our psyche. This self-inflicted act might be a symbolic attempt to confront and overcome a challenging part of yourself.”
Lorraine, her expression empathetic, adds: “They can be a mirror to our subconscious, reflecting what we might not be fully aware of during waking hours. Understanding their symbolism can be a key to unravelling the mysteries within. What emotions did you experience during the dream?”
You take a moment to gather your thoughts: “It was surreal, a mix of fear and confusion and just uncontrollable frenzy. It was as if I wasn’t myself. I feel - feel- so guilty…”
“It isn’t only the dreams, right?”, Lorraine looks at you as if she sees through you, “It’s also the headaches and the feeling of another presence?”
Lorraine's inquiry hangs in the air, and as she mentions the possibility of a lingering presence, a sudden surge of pain grips your head. Shadows dance in your vision, an unsettling display that feels akin to a lightning strike. Instinctively, you close your eyes, attempting to shield yourself from the overwhelming sensations.
Concerned murmurs from Lorraine and Ed surround you, their worry palpable. Ed, quick to respond, rises and kneels before you. His hand rests on your thigh, warmth seeping through, a comforting touch amid the storm within.
Despite the pain, there’s an unexpected allure in the strength of Ed’s presence. His voice, deep and reassuring, coaxes you to open your eyes. As you comply, the pain begins to recede, replaced by a sense of calm emanating from his reassuring presence. The room, once flickering with shadows, gradually steadies.
Ed, still kneeling, his gaze steady, asks gently: “Can you tell us more about this presence? Understanding its nature might be the key to understand these distressing episodes.”
Lorraine, her concern etched on her features, leans in: “We’ve encountered various entities in our work, and understanding their nature is crucial. Can you describe the feeling accompanying this presence? Any specific details or sensations?”
You take a deep breath, attempting to articulate the ineffable: “It’s like a heaviness in the air, a feeling of being watched even when I’m alone. Sometimes, there are fleeting glimpses of shadows, shapes that vanish when I try to focus on them. It’s been escalating, and with each occurrence, this headache intensifies.”
“It sounds like you're attuned to something beyond the ordinary. These manifestations might be a manifestation of psychic sensitivity, and we're here to help you navigate through it”, Ed’s hand still remains on your thigh, a grounding force.
As Ed’s hand gently leaves your leg, the warmth and reassurance it provided dissipated, leaving an emptiness that resonated within you. Rising from his previous position, Ed chooses a spot next to you.
Lorraine, sensing the shift in dynamics, delicately broached the subject, her concern evident in the furrow of her brow.
“Are you feeling alright?”, she inquires, her voice carrying a blend of empathy and curiosity.
You brush off the significance of Ed’s withdrawal with a nonchalant response: “It’s nothing, I'm fine.” Though the unspoken weight lingers in the air.
Undeterred, Lorraine leanes in, her eyes reflecting a genuine care. “We're here to help; you don’t have to face this alone”, she reassures, her words a lifeline in the sea of unspoken emotions.
As Ed subtly adjusts his position, and your thighs make contact in a dance of unspoken connection. In response, you press against him, not just to maintain the touch but to signify a shared sense of comfort and solace.
Turning your gaze towards Lorraine, you confess: “Perhaps you can offer a different kind of help, one that conventional medicine couldn't provide.”
“I wonder what is wrong with me”, you say, your voice carrying the weight of countless bewildering moments, “every day the room starts to spin, days become an indistinct blur, and shadows dance in every corner.”
Ed leans forward, his concern etched on his face. “That sounds disconcerting, to say the least. Have the doctors given any insights into these symptoms?”, he asks, his inquiry a testament to a genuine desire to understand.
A wistful smile flickers across your face as you respond: “Unfortunately, no doctor has been able to shed light on my condition. It’s baffling; they all insist I’m fine, perfectly healthy, while I feel like I'm unravelling.”
The frustration in your voice is palpable, a poignant reminder of the gaping disparity between the reassurances of the medical professionals and the persistent enigma of your symptoms.
Lorraine, sensing the gravity of the situation, speaks softly: “It must be incredibly challenging. But remember, we’re here for you, even if the answers elude conventional medicine.”
The sincerity in her words weaves a thread of comfort into the room, a fragile but genuine support in the face of the mysterious ordeal you're enduring. And for the first time since your headaches started you feel heard and seen.
Lorraine’s gaze holds a mix of understanding and curiosity as she asks: “Is that why you attended our lecture at the university? Searching for answers beyond what conventional medicine could offer?”
A subtle nod confirms Lorraine’s intuition.
As the ache in your head rekindles, Ed’s intuitive response is instant – a gentle press of his thigh against yours. A wave of warmth engulfs you, not just from the unexpected intimacy but from the acknowledgment of shared moments in this intricate dance of connection.
Turning your gaze to Lorraine, you find her eyes locked onto the point where your limbs connect. There’s a flicker of something in her expression, perhaps recognition or empathy, but certainly not discomfort.
“You may have encountered an inhuman spirit that gained possession of you”, Lorraine tells you gently.
Lorraine's revelation about a potential inhuman spirit leaves you perplexed, prompting Ed to provide clarification. His gaze, tinged with a grave seriousness, meets yours as he explains: “An inhuman spirit is something that has never walked the Earth in human form. It's something demonic.”
The weight of his words settles in the air, and a shiver runs down your spine as the gravity of the situation becomes palpable.
With a knot of uncertainty in your stomach, you ask: “What does that mean for me? What should I do?”
Ed's expression remains solemn, his response measured: “We need to investigate further, understand the nature of this entity. It means we’re facing a force that’s not bound by human constraints. Our priority is to help you, to confront and neutralise this inhuman spirit.”
“You’re not alone in this. We've encountered and triumphed over such entities before. Our combined efforts will guide us through this challenge”, Lorraine adds reassuringly.
Ed’s hand returns to your thigh, a gesture of comfort in the face of the unfolding supernatural challenge. The warmth of his touch, coupled with the gravity of the situation, evokes a subtle blush on your cheeks.
His gaze meets Lorraine’s, his hand a grounding presence on your leg as he proposes: “Lorraine, perhaps we should take her to the chapel.”
There’s a subtle acknowledgment in their shared look, an unspoken understanding that transcends the immediate situation.
You catch Lorraine’s eyes briefly flickering down to where Ed’s hand rests on your thigh. It is a short moment, but it doesn't escape your notice. Her agreement, when it comes, carries both assurance and determination.
A fleeting thought crosses your mind, wondering why Lorraine doesn't address the proximity and the tactile comfort Ed provides. It’s a realisation that, under different circumstances, such closeness might prompt a discussion. Yet, amidst the urgency of the supernatural situation, unspoken boundaries seem to blur, and you find yourself navigating a realm where the paranormal takes precedence over the ordinary.
_____
Approaching the small chapel nestled discreetly within the verdant grounds of the Warrens' estate, you find yourself captivated by its unassuming exterior. The façade, adorned with ivy and weathered by the passage of time, hints at the hidden sanctuary within. As you step through the entrance, a hushed awe envelops you.
The door, worn with the touch of countless hands seeking solace, opens into a world of quiet grandeur. The interior, a harmonious blend of history and reverence, embraces you with its inviting warmth. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the mesmerizing stained glass windows that adorn the chapel's walls. Each pane is a work of art, depicting scenes of profound spirituality with meticulous craftsmanship.
“Quite a sight, huh?” Ed remarks, his eyes reflecting the appreciation of someone intimately familiar with the mysteries of the divine.
Lorraine, her presence exuding a calm serenity, adds: “The colours in those windows are said to carry the essence of prayers and hopes over the years.”
The soft, diffused light that filters through these intricate creations casts enchanting patterns on the polished wooden pews below. As you move deeper into the chapel, you become aware of the ethereal dance of colors that paint the space. The sunlight, filtered through the kaleidoscope of stained glass, plays upon the floor, creating an ever-shifting mosaic that seems to breathe with life.
The wooden pews bear witness to the passage of time and whisper stories of shared prayers and quiet contemplation.
“Imagine the tales these pews could tell”, Ed says, running his hand along the polished surface, “Joys, sorrows, and moments of quiet reflection—each one etched into the wood.”
The flickering candles, arranged with deliberate care, add another layer to the sacred tableau. The flames dance in harmony, casting a soft, golden glow that kisses the air with a tranquil warmth. Their rhythmic dance is a silent hymn, echoing the sacred stillness that envelops the chapel.
“These candles”, Lorraine observes, “they’ve witnessed the power of faith. Lighting a candle is like sending a silent prayer into the universe.”
The air itself seems imbued with reverence, carrying the intertwined scents of aged wood and the lingering fragrance of consecrated incense.
You marvel at the intricate details that the chapel holds. The walls, adorned with religious artefacts and delicate carvings, hold a silent narrative of faith and devotion.
“This place is a testament to the enduring power of belief”, Ed comments, his eyes scanning the adorned walls, “Every detail speaks of the profound connection between the human spirit and the divine.”
The ceiling, an architectural marvel, arches gracefully overhead, creating a sense of sacred space that transcends the confines of the physical realm.
In this intimate haven, the union of soft light, vibrant colours, and evocative scents creates a sanctuary where your soul finds reprieve.
“It’s a place where the heart finds peace”, Lorraine says softly, her eyes reflecting the wisdom of a life devoted to the mystical, “A refuge for the weary soul, a haven for those seeking a moment of serenity in the tumult of life.”
Ed and Lorraine share a knowing glance, and with a gentle nod, they invite you to join them as they make their way towards the altar. The polished wooden floor echoes with a soft whisper as you follow in their footsteps.
As you approach the altar, the atmosphere seems to shift. The open space surrounding it exudes a sense of sacred gravity. The stained glass windows cast their intricate patterns of light on the altar, creating a celestial backdrop for the ornate religious artifacts that grace the sacred space.
Ed gestures toward a beautifully crafted lectern, its intricate carvings catching the flickering candlelight.
“This is a place where many have stood to share words of solace and wisdom”, he notes, his eyes reflecting a deep respect for the sanctity of the spot.
Lorraine, with a gentle smile, approaches a small arrangement of flowers near the altar: “Sometimes, a simple offering of nature speaks volumes in this sacred space. It’s a reminder of the beauty that exists even in moments of reflection and prayer.”
The altar, adorned with sacred symbols and with candles, becomes a focal point where the convergence of faith and tranquillity is palpable. It's as if the very air around it carries the whispers of countless prayers and the energy of contemplative moments.
“We find solace in these quiet moments”, Ed says, his voice a low murmur that resonates with reverence, “It's a place to connect with something beyond ourselves, to find answers or simply to be in the presence of something greater.”
With a subtle gesture, Lorraine invites you to stand beside them, facing the open space near the altar. The three of you share a moment of silent contemplation, enveloped in the sacred stillness of the chapel. The colors from the stained glass dance on the floor, the candles flicker in harmony, and the air carries the essence of aged wood and incense.
“It’s a sanctuary”, Lorraine whispers, breaking the silence, “A place where the soul can find peace and where the mysteries of the heart can unfold.”
Ed nods in agreement: “Sometimes, in the quiet of this chapel, people discover answers within themselves. It's a journey of the soul, a communion with the divine that transcends words.”
The timeless serenity of the chapel lingers as Ed and Lorraine turn to you, their expressions a blend of reassurance and understanding. Ed’s eyes reflect a genuine warmth, while Lorraine’s serene gaze seems to hold a depth of insight into the unseen.
“Are you ready?”, Ed asks, his voice carrying a comforting weight.
You meet their gazes and, with a nod, convey your readiness to partake in whatever profound experience they have in store. There’s an unspoken trust that bridges the ordinary and the extraordinary, connecting your presence in the chapel to something larger than the moment.
“Good”, Ed says, his voice a steady guide and his eyes locked on yours, “Kneel.”
You swallow dryly, shortly wondering if you understood him correctly. Ed, sensing your confusion just raises one eyebrow, a silent prompt urging you to comply with the task.
With a deep breath, you lower yourself to your knees on the polished chapel floor. The cool surface beneath you grounds you in the physicality of the chapel even as the atmosphere vibrates with unseen currents.
“Now”, Ed continues, his tone carrying a sense of purpose, “close your eyes and let the stillness of this place envelop you. Focus on your breath, on the quiet rhythm of your heartbeat.”
As you comply, the air around you seems to thicken with an almost palpable energy. The flickering candles cast a warm glow through closed eyelids, creating an inner landscape where the boundaries between the material world and the mystical blur.
Lorraine’s voice joins the symphony of the chapel’s sacred silence: “Imagine a connection between your heart and the energy of this place. Feel the threads of the unseen weaving through the fabric of your being.”
Ed’s voice follows, a soothing guide through this meditative journey: “In this sacred space, let your thoughts flow. Allow the chapel to become a vessel, a conduit for the energies that seek to guide and comfort.”
As you delve deeper into the meditative state, a profound sense of tranquility envelops you. The chapel, once a physical space, now feels like a bridge to the spiritual, a conduit for energies that transcend the ordinary.
“Open yourself to any sensations or insights that may come”, Lorraine encourages, her words a gentle prompting.
In the quiet of the chapel, with closed eyes and a receptive heart, you become attuned to the subtle shifts in the environment. The colors behind your eyelids seem to dance in response to energies unseen, and the air carries a charge that resonates with the sacredness of the moment.
As you open your eyes, the vibrant colors of the stained glass windows and the flickering candles greet you with renewed clarity.
“Pray the Pater Noster”, Ed instructs, his voice carrying a weight that transcends the confines of the chapel.
You take a deep breath before you start speaking, in an attempt to collect yourself. It occurs to you that you cannot recall the last time you had to recite the Lord's Prayer and you try your hardest to recall the correct wording from your memory.
As you commence the prayer, your voice resounds in the sacred halls of the chapel: “Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy Name; Thy kingdom come…thy.”
The unfamiliarity of the setting causes the recitation to stumble, and you find it challenging to regain the rhythm.
“Start again, focus on the words. Let the prayer guide your thoughts”, Ed, patient yet resolute, interjects.
You take a steadying breath and begin anew, the rhythm of the prayer echoing in the chapel’s confines. The flickering candles and the colored hues from the stained glass seem to respond to the spiritual endeavor.
“Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy Name; Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”
Completing the initial lines, you prepare to resume, but cast your gaze towards Ed.
You notice how his broad silhouette is bathed in the chapel’s ambient light, casting a soft glow on him and accentuating the contours of his features. A breath catches in your throat as you observe the ethereal quality that surrounds him. Mesmerized, you find yourself marveling at how the light plays upon his brown hair, creating an almost transcendent aura.
You open your mouth again to continue praying: “Give us this day our… Give us this day our”
The distraction broke your concentration and your words tumble once again, and Ed intervenes once more.
“Concentrate. Let the prayer flow through you”, he encourages, his voice a calming presence amid the challenge.
As you attempt the Pater Noster once more, the words still elude you, stumbling over your lips like an unfamiliar language. There’s a growing impatience in the air, and you sense Ed’s frustration.
“Start again”, Lorraine interjects, her tone tinged with impatience and a hint of anger at your perceived inability to concentrate. The pressure intensifies, and the chapel, once a sanctuary, becomes a stage for the inner struggle between the earthly and the supernatural.
“Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy Name; Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, thy…”
The failure to recite the prayer triggers a sudden escalation in tension. Without warning, Lorraine steps forward, her frustration boiling over. A sharp, echoing slap reverberates through the chapel as her hand connects with your face.
Stunned silence hangs in the air, the lingering sound of the slap contrasting sharply with the sacred stillness of the chapel. The unexpected act leaves a mark, both physically and metaphorically, in the unfolding drama of supernatural confrontation.
Stunned and cradling your cheek, you feel a wave of fear washing over you. The unexpected slap has left you speechless, grappling with the sudden turn of events.
Lorraine’s voice, now cold and impatient, cuts through the chapel's stillness: “Ed, it seems she has never been properly educated in the way of the Lord.”
The frustration in the chapel intensifies, and Ed’s resolve hardens.
“I’m gonna give you a proper lesson”, he declares, and Lorraine, in agreement, adds an air of authority to the unfolding scene.
Ed instructs you to get up, his demeanour leaving little room for hesitation. The chapel, once a sanctuary, now feels charged with an unsettling tension.
Ed's voice, though firm, holds an edge of frustration.
“This lesson is necessary”, he asserts.
Lorraine, her impatience palpable, adds: “We were hoping for cooperation, not resistance.”
He guides you up to the altar and positions you with a subtle push.
As you bend over the altar, the cold surface presses against your hands, and the weight of the situation becomes tangible. The shift from the warmth and camaraderie earlier to this stern lesson feels disorienting, leaving you questioning the motives behind this abrupt turn.
Despite the overwhelming tension and unease, a fleeting and disconcerting thought crosses your mind. In the midst of this unexpected turn of events, you find yourself reflecting on how, under different circumstances, you might have appreciated being in a situation with someone like Ed.
The complexities of the situation—his firm demeanor, the unexpected discipline, and the palpable energy in the chapel—leave you grappling not only with the supernatural but with a disconcerting undercurrent of conflicting emotions. The boundaries between the earthly and the metaphysical blur in this unsettling chapter of your encounter with the Warrens.
Surprised you let out a gasp when Ed hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pants and just pulls them down, leaving you in your panties.
“What-?”, confusion taints your voice as you attempt to push yourself up, palms pressing against the smooth surface of the altar. Before you can fully rise, Ed’s strong grip seizes your neck, compelling you back down and firmly holding you in place.
Panic flickers in your mind, a whirlwind of thoughts racing to make sense of this unexpected turn. The cool surface beneath your trembling hands becomes a stark reminder of your vulnerability. Images of the chapel, once a haven, now feel tinged with an unsettling uncertainty. The rhythmic prayer that once echoed in the sacred space is replaced by a disquieting silence.
As you struggle to process the abrupt change, the grip on your neck tightens forcing you to lay completely flat.
Ed bows down, and you feel the warmth of his breath against your ear. Goosebumps rise on your arms as his proximity sends a shiver down your spine. The unexpected closeness heightens the intensity of the moment, leaving you momentarily breathless.
“Let this be a lesson to know your prayers”, Ed’s voice, low and commanding, echoes in the hallowed space.
As Ed speaks, you catch a familiar scent—his cologne, a subtle and intoxicating fragrance that lingers in the air. The scent envelops you, and for a moment, you're intoxicated by its familiarity. Somehow the combination of his nearness, commanding voice, and the alluring aroma arouses you. That whole scenario should not be that hot, you figure, but you can’t help feeling that way so you accept your fate and stop struggling.
Ed pulls back and loosens the grip on your neck, sensing your lack of resistance. As you catch your breath, you instinctively glance toward Lorraine, anticipating disapproval or concern in her eyes. To your surprise, her gaze meets yours, and you find something unexpected—approval and support.
Lorraine opens her mouth, breaking the charged silence, and says: “Start again.”
Her voice, though calm, carries a directive force that commands your attention.
“Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy Name”, you start, but panic begins to set in your bones as you speak. Your head starts pounding again, the weight of the situation pressing down on you.
Unable to ignore the rising distress, you stop mid-prayer and say: “Look, can I just go, please?”
In the charged silence that follows, you sense the disappointment radiating off Ed behind you before you hear the sound of his disapproval, a quiet clinking of the tongue.
Your heart pounds in your ears as you wait, the seconds stretching into an uneasy silence.
Just as you muster the courage to say something again, you feel Ed’s big palm connecting with your ass. The unexpected impact resonates through the stillness of the chapel.
Surprised you let out a loud yelp as you feel your ass burning from the slap. You cannot believe that Ed just spanked you for messing up the Pater Noster. Arousal pools low in your belly as you feel the warmth radiating of him behind you.
You notice Ed’s strong hand caressing over the just-hit place to soothe the pain. Part of you wants to say something, but you are completely overwhelmed by the unusual sequence of events.
“Start again”, Lorraine’s voice sounds clear through the chapel, and your head snaps up to look at her form. Lorraine looks at you expectantly, her gaze carrying an unspoken command. Overwhelmed and reluctant to face the potential repercussions, you submit.
“Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy Name; Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven”, you gulp nervously before continuing, “Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses…as… as”
As the words falter once more, Ed’s hand makes contact with your ass once again and you cannot fully surpress the whine that escapes your mouth. This time it feels like his fingers linger longer on the globes of your behind leaving a hot trace that makes you squirm involuntarily.
“Again”, Ed’s order cuts through your thoughts, his voice sounding more gravely and deeper as it resonates through the chapel and his hand still ghosts over your ass.
That should not be that hot you think, trying to rationalize the conflicting emotions. But you cannot ignore the warmth and dominance that Ed radiates behind you. You cannot ignore the way his hand softly kneeds the skin of your ass while he waits for you to continue.
The entire situation strikes you as bizarre, and you find yourself questioning the authenticity of the footage they showed at the university. No one explicitly mentioned an exorcism, but the proximity and personal nature of Ed’s actions leave you wondering about the true nature of the spiritual encounter.
Under any other circumstances you’d be very willing - downright happy - to fall to your knees for him, but here in a chapel that just feels wrong and out of place. And not to mention that he is married and Lorraine is watching you.
Ed withdraws the hand on your ass and steps back a bit, only keeping control over you by his other hand on your back. He denies you any further physical contact and a plaintive whine espaces you, yearning for more touch as you lie bent over the altar in the dimly lit chapel.
Your senses are dulled and shrouded by a curtain of pleasure as your head and mind are in a blissful silence.
Lorraine says something to Ed but her words become distant echos, lost amid the overwhelming sensations. You watch through a haze as she steps forward towards her husband, handing him a big, leather clad bible. Mesmerised you marvel at the way his arm and back flexes when takes the book.
In a tense moment, Lorraine’s voice cuts through the sacred air and you hear the words but cannot make sense of them: “Ed, it's time she learns her place. Give her ten, one for every commandment.”
He steps back behind you, and you feel him—the warmth and dominance his body radiates. And you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in.
“I want you to count and thank the Lord”, Eds deep and gravely voice sounds behind you as his hand caresses the skin of your ass.
Before you have time to properly process the words the cool leather of the Bibles makes contact with you ass. The force of the hit catches you off guard, a surprising jolt that resonates through your being. This was definitely the hardest he had hit you so far you think as you catch your breath.
Ed’s hand digs into you hip sharply and you remember his command from before: “One. Thank you, Lord”.
He makes a pleased low hum in his throat and smoothes over the hot skin before hitting you again.
“Shit… I mean: Two. Thank you, Lord.”
Ed continues to bring the bible down on your ass and you can’t help but imagine how he looks right now. You wonder if his carefully groomed hair has fallen out of place, becoming slightly tousled with single strands brushing his forehead. You wonder if he had to roll the sleeves of his arms up, fuck you’d do a lot of things to see the way his muscles tense whenever he brings the leather-bound book down.
Shamefully you admit to yourself that it turns you on immensely, arousal pools low in your belly and with every hit you feel yourself getting wetter.
After the sixth time Ed spanked you with the bible, you cannot help but squirm involved when his hand caresses the hot, raw and burning skin of your ass.
But rather than pulling away from his touch you lean into it, desperate for friction.
You hear Ed chuckle silently as his long fingers continue to stroke over your skin, causing goosebumps to form all over your body. When his hand ventures lower you suck in a breath and stop moving.
Painfully slow Ed lets his fingers wander lower until he reaches your clothed pussy. You are pretty sure that he can feel how wet you are, that you must have drenched the thin material of your panties.
It almost feels like humiliation to you when his hand ghosts over your pussy for a second before he drags one long, thick finger through your slit. The whine, you were not able to suppress sounds loud in the chapel walls as you push back against Ed, desperate to feel his hand on your cunt again.
“Maybe she's even further gone than we thought”, Ed's voice is rough and stained with something that you cannot place when he speaks to Lorraine, “she really seems to enjoy her lesson too much…”
A wave of humiliation surges through you, shame crashing through your veins and igniting a bright blush on your cheeks. Each word from Ed feels like he’s cast a spotlight on you, exposing your vulnerabilities to Lorraine.
But Ed interrupts any chance for you to dwell on your feelings, his hand tracing a path over your skin and returning to your cunt. He drags his finger roughly through your clothed slit, tracing the shape of your pussy before applying pressure to your clit.
You feel a hot throb inside you, spreading all through your veins as you involuntarily buck your hips into his hand and moan quietly before biting your lip to avoid making any more sound.
Ed leans in, bending over you, so his warmth is enveloping your back and the subtle pressure of his presence against your skin sends a wave of arousal through your veins. His hot breath grazes your ear as he speaks roughly: “Don’t you, slut?”
Your only response is to push back against him and whine as you hide your head in your hands. Contrary to your previous thoughts that he was completely unaffected you feel his hard cock straining against his pants on your raw ass. But the contact is only short lived because Ed pulls back from you.
“Try to cleanse her, Ed”, you hear Lorraine’s voice through the aroused haze that swirls around your mind.
Before you can wonder what exactly she means, Ed’s fingers have hooked on the waistband of your underwear, ripping the flimsy material off, making you gasp. The cold air of the chapel hits your wet cunt but instead of cooling you down it riles you up even more since you remember where you are - a holy place.
But there is nothing holy about you bending over the altar with your cunt and ass bare and yet it feels absolutely divine when you feel Ed’s fingers on your cunt without a barrier for the first time.
You feel the palm of his hand against your ass as he forms a V with his middle- and forefinger to enclose the other sides of your cunt. Ed rests his hand there for a moment, making your stomach flutter in anticipation before he closes them slowly and pulling back to the edge of your cunt.
Your clit throbs and you squirm on the altar, desperate for Ed to continue.
A strangled moan escapes your lips when he pushes his thick fingers between the lips of your pussy and spreads them, effectively opening you up. You are pretty sure that he can not only feel but also see your wetness glistening in the dim light of the chapel.
Ed’s thumb brushes against your neglected clit and you groan loudly as electricity shoots through you, making you arch your back into his hand.
All the desperate sounds you make and the way you buck against him does not make him go faster and you really want to curse him out - you want to be filled by him, you want his fingers and his cock. So when he finally pushes his middle finger in your cunt a loud moan along with a please escapes you.
The haze in your mind thickens, rendering you blissfully obvious to your surroundings. The only reality matters right now is Ed. His presence dominates your consciousness, eclipsing everything else, as if the world beyond him and his hands on you has faded into insignificance.
“So good for us, sweetheart. You’re doing so good, taking what I give you so well”, Ed rasps behind you, his voice strained with satisfaction and barely constrained self restraint.
He curls his fingers inside you and starts shallowly and slowly thrusting before he adds a second finger.
You whine at the stretch of his long fingers when he pushes them all the way inside your pussy and grinds his palm against your clit.
Ed’s fingertips graze over the sweet spot on the wall of your cunt and your knees buckle under you as a wave of pleasure washes over you. With a dark chuckle he repeats this motion again and again while his palm steadily rubs your clit.
The distant echoes of Lorraine’s footsteps lingers off the edges of the fog in your mind as she approaches her husband. Yet, your concentration remained unwaveringly fixed on Ed and his long, thick fingers that are buried in your wet cunt.
A subtle jump courses through you as you feel something small with delicate round beads on your clit. Ed rubs it around the nub and you feel every cool and smooth ridge touching you as his fingers continue to thrust and rub deep inside your pussy.
“Shit Ed, please”, the words escape as a desperate plea, your voice raw.
Your cunt throbs and pulses to the rhythm of his hands on you and inside you as wave after wave of pleasure slowly builds up your orgasm.
“Be good and cum all over my fingers and Lorrain’s rosary. Let us cleanse you”, Ed’s warm breath against your sensitive skin sends shivers down your spine.
When the wave of pleasure shatters and courses through you, you cum for him with a loud moan that echoes off the chapel walls. Your back arches into Ed, who keeps finger-fucking you through your high, your hips grinding frantically against his hand, desperate for him.
Your breathing is ragged and loud when you come down from your high and your senses slowly come back to life, your cunt still tingling with the warm aftermath of your intense orgasm.
“Good girl, you did so well”, Ed praises you and pulls his fingers out with a wet noise before wiping them against your inner thigh.
Ed presses himself against you from behind, his closeness is palpable as the warmth of his body surrounds you and you feel the hard outline of his dick on your ass again. Instinctively you press back against his bulge, making him groan and suck in a breath.
He digs his fingers into the soft skin of your hip, a hidden warning for you to behave when he dangles the rosary in front of you. A belated realisation dawns in your mind - this is Lorraine’s rosary, this is what you felt dragging around your clit and wet cunt just minutes before.
A pang of shame courses through you as your eyes catch the sight of the rosary beads glistening with your wetness in the chapel’s light.
“Clean them”, Ed commands, his voice a low murmur that echoes through the church, laden with a mixture of authority and desire.
Without a hint of resistance, you comply with Ed’s command, opening your mouth and letting him guide the beads between your lips. Your tongue traces a path along the wet rosary beads as you taste yourself on them. The whole act feels positively sinful and you can’t help but feel more aroused, involuntarily you clench around nothing.
When you accidentally lock eyes with Lorraine, you freeze for a short moment. You had almost forgotten that it was not only Ed and you in the chapel but that his wife was also there. Your entire focus had been consumed by Ed and his commands and presence.
But contrary to what you would have expected Lorraine does not look angry, her emotions are unreadable but undeniably intense as she cocks an eyebrow, prompting you to continue your work.
A blush of humiliation sears through you and the burning sensation in your cheeks intensifies as you start cleaning the rosary beads again under Lorraine’s watchful gaze.
“Ed”, Lorraine starts, her eyes still locked on yours, “I don’t think it worked. Something still grips her.”
Ed withdraws, but he trails his hands and the rosary over your back, making sure to touch as much as possible before he straightens. Still bent over the altar, your legs wobble and feel unsure, making it impossible for you to get up. Yet, you don’t want to leave.
There is only one thing that you are currently sure of wanting and that is Ed.
“I think you’re right, hon”, Ed’s gravelly voice acknowledges, heavy with desire.
Lorraine walks over to her husband and you turn your head to look at them. As they stand together in the muted ambiance of the chapel, you catch glimpses of their exchange. She leans into Ed’s direction and speaks to him, her hushed words elude you.
Uncertain of the decisions the Warrens’ made in their whispered exchange you find yourself indifferent when Ed seizes your hair and pulls you to your feet from the position over the altar. He places his other hand on your hip, gripping in firmly to stabilise you as his thumb traces calming circles on your skin.
After a few moments you find your footing and Ed’s hold on your hair eases, allowing you to turn around and face him.
Purely on instinct, you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, an unconscious response as your gaze locks onto Ed. He embodies what you imagined - but the reality is so much better.
His short hair is slightly dishevelled and frames his face. A lone strand has fallen onto his forehead, resting there. A subtle blush tinges his neck, visible where the top buttons of his dress shirt are undone, exposing a glimpse of his chest. The soft blue of his eyes is almost entirely engulfed by blackness, revealing the depth of his desire.
Your attention descends to his arms, where you notice he’s pushed up the sleeves of his shirt, unveiling toned forearms.
His gaze locks onto yours and you notice the hunger and intensity burning in his eyes. Ed’s hands, strong and confident, cradle your face, their warmth seeping into your skin. As his lips descend, the initial softness gives way to a fervent kiss that depends, exploring the contours of your mouth with a tender yet insistent dance.
The kiss deepens and you instinctively wrap your arms around Ed, drawing him closer. Your hands find their places, one resting at the small of his lower back, while the other rests on his shoulder. You feel a canvas of strength beneath your fingertips, his muscles firm and well-defined. He pushes his clothed erection into your bare cunt, grinding against you. You whine into the kiss when the rough fabric of his pants scrapes over your clit.
As you part, you are breathless, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of Ed’s kiss and in a quiet and almost intimate gesture, your fingers trail over to gently push back the strand of hair that had fallen onto Ed’s face.
Ed’s face lights up with a radiant, toothy smile that seems to melt away any of your worries. In that moment, the intensity gives way to a genuine warmth that spreads through your veins.
When he leans in again, he places a kiss on your nose, causing a subtle fluttering in your chest to blend with a quiet contentment.
“Ed”, Lorraine’s voice cuts through the intimacy with a sharp edge, “Remember why we are here.”
His gaze shifts, the warmth fading as the reminder settles in.
“We can’t lose sight of our purpose”, he says, his tone carrying acknowledgement.
Despite Lorraine’s reminder Ed pulls you in one more for another linger kiss. The intensity of it feels like it has a direct line to your cunt. Pleasure that had been simmering is once again ignited into a full fire.
As the kiss concludes, Ed speaks again: “We should get back to work”.
Ed steps back from you, his words carrying a command that intertwines his authority and desire.
“Kneel again, be good for us”, he instructs, the request echoing through the chapel’s sacred space.
Without a hint of hesitation, you step out of your pants and sink to your knees, a swift and obedient response to Ed’s command. Your reaction is just automatic, there is no coherent thought in your mind as you follow his orders.
The coldness of the stone floor beneath your bare knees serves as a start reminder of the reality and you wince as the cold spreads through you.
Looking up to Ed through your lowered lashes, you see him visibly swallowing, his Adam’s apple bobbing upon having you on your knees before him. While you want to reach out and take his cock from his pants, free him of his prison, you don’t dare, sensing that it would displease him and Lorraine.
“We will try something different now”, Lorraine declares with a gentle voice, prompting your eyes to snap from Ed to her. In her hand she holds the rosary once again, and a blush raises to your cheeks as your clit throbs in remembrance of what Ed did to you with it.
Lorraine continues: “Take him wholly and accept him into your mouth. That he may drive the evil out”
You divert your attention from Lorraine back to Ed. His eyes meet yours, and in that moment, he winks at you playfully before reaching down to grab the hem of your shirt. In one fluid motion he pulls it off you, leaving you kneeling naked in the chapel.
His gaze lingers on you, a slow and deliberate appraisal as he looks you up and down, taking in every nuance of your form, making you squirm under the intensity.
Mesmerised, you watch as his hands find the front of his pants, unzipping them and pulling them down so his cock and balls are exposed. His dick obscenely framed by his pants and underwear that is pushed mid thigh as well as his shirt that has the last few buttons undone. He is big, slightly curved, with a protruding vein on the underside and the head is already glistening with a drop of pre-cum. Your mouth waters at the sight of him and you lick your lips in anticipation.
Ed steps up to you, burying his fingers in your hair and pulls your head against his exposed cock, rubbing against your face. So you open your mouth and flick your tongue towards his dick to lick the drop of pre-cum away.
Both Ed and you let out a groan simultaneously - you at the salty, musky taste of him that settles in your mouth and him at the feeling of your tongue on his hard cock.
When you open your mouth again he slides the head of his dick in, it’s heavy on your tongue as he just looks at you in wonder. You keep your eyes trailed on his and watch him swallow heavily before pushing himself deeper into your mouth with in a single, swift stroke.
The sound of surprise is muffled by the cock in your mouth that already feels too deep.
Ed tightens his grip on your head and he pushes his dick further in until the head hits the back of your throat.
Almost instantly, tear well up in your eyes, an involuntary response to the deep intrusion of his cock. Your hand instinctively finds his muscular thighs as you attempt to push him away or prompt a retreat.
Despite your efforts, Ed’s strength prevails, the grip on your head and hair remains firm and unyielding.
“Be a good girl and take it”, Ed’s commanding voice cuts through the air, his words heavy with desire as he groans above you.
You swallow around his cock and try to breathe through your nose but it doesn’t feel enough. Drool starts to collect in the corner of your mouth and around his dick before it drips down.
For a few seconds, Ed just holds your head in place with his cock buried to the hilt in your throat and balls pressed against your chin. Black spots start appearing in the corners of your vision and soon they morph into shadows that encroach your field of view as you struggle to breath.
Mercifully he pulls you off his cock ending your struggle.
You greedily inhale, the sudden rush of oxygen burning in your lungs, eliciting a cough. As you gasp for air your tear-stained eyes fixate on Ed.
The chapel light embraces him, casting a radiant glow that accentuates the contours of his form. Ed’s chest rises and falls with the rhythm of his laboured breaths, the play of light illuminates his muscular form. Dishevelled strands of brown hair frame his face, catching the light in a cascade of radiant highlights. Each lock seemed to shimmer with its own luminescence, creating an almost halo-like effect.
As he continues to stroke his hard cock the light also casts shadows on his hand as if intensifying the nuances of each movement.
“It’s no use, hon”, Ed says to Lorraine without averting his gaze from you, still stroking his cock.
Your eyes flicker over to Lorraine. She appears completely composed and unbothered by the recent interaction between you and her husband. With a calm nod she signals her agreement to Ed’s statement.
He exerts a gentle but firm pull with his hand that is still entangled in your hair as he guides you up from your kneeling position until you are standing. In a swift motion, Ed brings you into a tight hug, bringing you flush against him, his erect dick pushing against your stomach.
With that hand in your hair, Ed gently tilts your head upwards, locking eyes with you before bringing his mouth down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. Arousal pumps through your veins when you return it with the same fervour and grind your hips against his cock.
You part, both breathless and Ed steps back from the embrace, creating a sligh distance to gaze at you. His eyes are clouded by pleasure and linger on your breasts.
Under the scrutiny of his gaze you swallow dryly and feel your nipples involuntarily harden.
Ed’s hand, once entwined in your hair, delicately withdraws and he speaks with a raspy tenderness: “You’re something else, you know?”
He strokes along your cheek, a featherlight touch of his long fingers against your heated skin before he cups your chin.
“I think we’re gonna have to try something different”, he says to Lorraine as he runs his thumb over your lower lip, keeping his gaze firmly on you.
You can’t suppress a moan when he places his hands on your bare waist and drags his palms up until he reaches your breasts, cupping them. Ed gives them a slow, leisurely, appreciative squeeze and lifts them slightly, feeling their weight before stroking his thumb over your nipples. A jolt of electricity courses through you at his soft ministrations and you feel his cock throbbing.
The intense connection breaks abruptly when you feel a small, warm hand on your bare shoulder, causing you to jump slightly.
“Jesus”, the exclamation slips from your lips.
Ed cocks an eyebrow and a subtle amusement etches into his features, as his lip twitches: “That is indeed what you need. But don’t worry, we will take care of it - of you.”
With those words, he steps away, leaving you with Lorraine who’s hand tugs at your shoulder again, prompting you to turn and face her. She looks at you with a faint smile, her head tilted slightly to the one side. She motions for you to follow with a graceful gesture of her hand, leading you back to the altar.
“He’ll be right back, dear. He is just getting what is necessary for us to help you”, Lorraine speaks in a gentle, quiet and soothing tone while rubbing small circles over your bare arm as you stand there.
Ed’s heavy footsteps resonate in the quiet of the chapel when he returns only minutes later. The candles placed in the chapel that surrounded him flicker in response, their flames dancing. The play of light and shadows creates an ethereal aura around him.
As he strides back towards the altar purposefully you see his cock bobbing with each of his step, the head coated in presumed glistens in the light. You notice that he has completely unbuttoned his shirt by now, the two halves falling open to reveal his strong chest.
A look of fierce determination is etched across Ed’s face as he carries a small leather bundle under his arm.
“Get on the altar”, he declares, his voice a low rumble that reverberates in the quiet of the chapel. The flickering of candles cast dynamic shadows on his face, enhancing his determined expression.
The edge in Ed’s voice sends a surge of arousal through your veins.
Without clear instructions, you instinctively use your hand to push yourself to sit on the altar. A hiss escapes your lips as he cold stone makes contact with your bare skin,
You hear Ed hum in approval as he notices your compliance. Placing the bundle on the altar next to you, your curiosity piques, and you watch intently, wondering what he brought with him.
He hands Lorraine the big leather-bound Bible - the same one he used to spank you earlier. The memory makes you squirm lightly as you recall how it all felt, feeling yourself getting wetter again.
She takes the book from Ed’s hands and tenderly touches his cheek. The delicate gesture lasts a few moments before Lorraine removes her palm from his face, and as if in silent agreement, Ed returns his attention to the bundle on the altar.
Ed unrolls the bundle with a practised motion of his hands, and your eyes remain glued to the mesmerising movement. Watching his hands, you marvel at their appeal. They are undeniably handsome - strong, adorned with veins that trace a map of strength and boasting long, thick fingers. You clench around nothing when you remember how perfect they felt inside you.
As Ed unveils the contents, a myriad of items come into view, each carrying its own significance. Various crosses, some made of metal and some of wood but all different in size, catch the ambient light of the chapel. Candles, meticulously arranged, follow suit. A lighter is poised beside them.
Transparent bottles filled with clear liquid stand out. You can only speculate, but the faint scent in the air and the placement of the bottles hint at the possibility of holy water.
Furrowing your brow, you watch his hands move with purpose as he arranges these items in a precise order. The answer as to why he needs these items eludes you for now.
Finally, Ed shifts his attention to you, stepping in front of you. Almost on instinct you open your legs and he positions himself between them.
Your attention remains fixed on Ed as the rhythmic clicking of the lighter echose in the background. The ambient sound suggests that Lorraine must be lighting the candles.
But that soon fades again, you cannot concentrate on anything other than the handsome man in front of you.
You tangle your fingers in his short hair to tuck him down and kiss you. When your lips meet you let out a soft moan that is swallowed by him. He returns the kiss with fervour and grips the back of your head with one hand. He uses the other hand to rub the head of his cock against your cunt.
You buck against him in response to finally feeling him there and moan into the kiss again. Ed rubs himself against you, massaging your clit with the smooth head of his dick and coating it in your wetness.
He keeps up with this slow, steady and careful rhythm - and it’s driving you mad. Each thrust causes a small spark of pleasant sensation to course through you.
When Ed breaks the kiss to nod at Lorraine you whine at the loss of contact. Currently, you don’t care about her, the only thing you care about is him and his big cock.
Through the blissful haze in your mind you hear Ed speak: “My Lord, you are all powerful, you are God, you are our Father”.
The words puzzle you but every thought is banished from your mind when you feel the warm, bulbous head of his cock entering your cunt. Slowly but steadily he fills you until he is nearly completely buried in you.
He grabs hold of your hair, tugging it backwards as you groan, the pain almost forcing more pleasure upon you, making you look at him.
Ecce crucem domini, fugite partes adversae
Goosebumps erupt all over your skin as Ed begins to speak in Latin, the words resonating within the sacred surroundings.
What?
Before you can fully grasp the significance of the Latin words, Ed seals your lips with another kiss, momentarily grounding you in the sensation of his touch. He begins sliding in and out of your pussy before he breaks the kiss and gently pushes you down until you lay flat on the altar. The stone is cold beneath you.
Exsurgat Deus et dissipentur inimici ejus: et fugiant qui oderunt eum a facie ejus
Lorraine's voice, though quiet, possesses a commanding presence as it weaves through the chapel. Each word is delivered with a deliberate cadence, the measured tones resonating in the hallowed silence. There's a certain grace in the way she speaks, a calm assurance that adds an ethereal quality to the unfolding ritual. Her words, like tendrils of incense, linger in the air, filling the sacred space with a sense of purpose and reverence.
But you don’t have time to think about that because Ed starts thrusting inside you, emphasising each sentence with a stroke of his hips. He pulls out until only the head is inside you before pushing in again and stretching your walls to accommodate him. You whimper beneath him whenever he fills you completely.
Sicut deficit fumus defíciant; sicut fluit cera a facie ígnis, sic pereant peccatores a facie Dei
Ed's hand is back to rub your clit in circles following the rhythm of his cock. You moan loudly as a slow sensation starts in your clit, growing more intense with each thrust of his dick and every movement of his fingers.
Princeps gloriosissime coelestis milítiae, sancte Míchael Archangele, defende nos in proelio
He gives his hips an extra hard push when he is fully sheathed inside your wet cunt and you feel his balls slapping against you. Waves of heavy and delightful pleasure and sensation course wash through you as you fail to comprehend what they do to you.
Et colluctatione, quae nobis est adversus principes et potestates, adversus mundi rectores tenebrarum harum, contra spiritualia nequitiae, in coelestibus
The pressure inside you rises as Ed keeps fucking you and rubbing circles around your clit. You feel yourself tightening as pure and unfiltered pleasure courses through your veins. His dick seems to hit all the right places inside you, the wide shaft stretching you deliciously and the sensations radiating from your clit, making you balance on the edge of an orgasm.
Veni in auxilium hominum; quos Deus creavit inexterminabiles, et ad imaginem similitudinis suae fecit, et a tyrannide diaboli emit pretio magno
Ed uses your body like a drum, everything he does vibrating through you like a steady beat as you feel the prickling sensation of need pulling at you, filling your veins.
You watch him through hooded eyes and you clench around his cock upon his sight. His brow is furrowed in determination as the muscles in his chest and arms ripple with every thrust.
You feel the pleasure cresting, the wave of sensations stacking higher and higher, but just then, just when you’re about to reach your peak, something wet and cold hits you.
Exorcizamos te, omnis immunde spiritus, omnis satanic potestas, omnis infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, in nomine et virtute Domini nostri Jesu
The unexpected sensation interrupts the rising tide of intensity, making you hiss. You smell a faint scent of holy water lingering in the air.
Turning your head slightly, you search for Lorraine, attempting to make sense of what just happened. You see her standing near you, the bible open as he holds a veil of what you guess is holy water.
Christi, eradicare et effugare a Dei Ecclesia, ab animabus ad imaginem Dei conditis ac pretioso divini Agni sanguine redemptis
Lorraine continues to sprinkle holy water onto you, the rhythmic pattern synchronised with the cadence of her words and Ed’s smooth thrusts.
The holy water feels cold on your overheated skin, a stark contrast that intensifies the sensory experience. The dichotomy of warmth and cold adds a layer of complexity to the unfolding ritual, leaving you caught in a paradox of sensations.
Non ultra audeas, serpens callidissime, decipere humanum genus, Dei Ecclesiam persequi, ac Dei electos excutere et cribrare sicut triticum
As your attention remains captivated by Lorraine, you're caught off guard by Ed's discreet move. Unseen, he seizes a burning candle, and the sudden cascade of hot wax onto your stomach elicits a sharp gasp from your lips. The contrasting elements of the cold water and the hot wax introduce a surprising twist, the unexpected sensation intertwining with the ambiance of the chapel.
The candlelight flickers, casting dancing shadows on Ed's face as he continues to drizzle the wax. Each drop leaves a transient mark on your skin, tainting it red.
Imperat tibi Deus altissimus, Imperat tibi Deus Pater; imperat tibi Deus Filius; imperat tibi Deus Spiritus Sanctus
The tension inside you breaks and waves crash and cascade over you as you cum almost unexpectedly. You clamp down around Ed's cock, clenching your cunt and bucking your hips. You arch your back when the orgasm courses through your body, riding out every single way as he continues to massage your clit and drive his hard dick into you.
Your scream echoes off the chapel walls, the sound resonating in the sacred silence, marking a moment of raw intensity. The juxtaposition of pleasure and the unexpected pain manifests in the resonance of your cry, creating a haunting echo that lingers in the hallowed atmosphere.
Vade satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis
Part of you is sure that you will go mad with all the sensations filling your mind, tending to overwhelm you.
Ed’s fingers playing with your clit, rubbing patterns you don’t understand.
His cock fills you up and hitting that spot makes your nerves sing so beautifully.
The mix of holy water and candle wax that assaults every fibre of your being, keeping you finely balanced between pain and pleasure.
You’re grateful you don’t have to stand because you feel your knees buckle under the onslaught.
Lorraine and Ed work in perfect harmony, alternating between hot and cold in such a way that you don’t know what will come next.
Da locum Christo, in quo nihil invenisti de operibus tuis
Every touch on your clit makes it throb, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your body and building up to your next orgasm. As Ed continues to slam into your cunt with a force that would drive you up the altar had he not been holding you down.
Whenever another drop of the cold holy water or the hot candle wax hits your bare skin you moan loudly at the sensation - you may as well be screaming you would not be able to discern it.
Da locum Ecclesia Uni, Sanctae, Catholicae, et Apostolicae, quam Christus ipse acquisivit sanguine suo
Ed buries his cock to the hilt, rotating his hips as if he could push it even further inside, making you arch your back against him.
“Beg for forgiveness”, his voice is deep and laced with arousal as he fucks into you in short, hard, deep stabs, “Beg for forgiveness from our God. Beg that He may allow us to cleanse you from your evil by my seed.”
“Please - please”, you start to beg desperately just as Ed had asked from you, “Please, Ed, please.”
Nos eriperes de potestate diaboli
You stammer incoherent words and sentences, the intensity rendering your attempts at communication fractured and disoriented. The echoes of your disjointed utterances sound throughout the chapel, as Ed quickens his pace again, hitting that spot deep inside you.
Ab omni hoste visibili et invisibili et ubique in hoc saeculo liberetur
Lorraine’s words grow louder, ascending to a crescendo that reverberates through the chapel. The rhythmic cadence of her speech becomes a pulsating backdrop as you come again, the explosive pleasure hitting you all at once. Your vision goes black and you shudder against Ed violently.
With a loud groan Ed comes inside you as your cunt contracts around him, your high having him brought to the peak too. You feel his dick twitching and pulsing as he keeps his hips flush against yours.
The waves of your orgasm keep washing over you as he keeps pumping you full of his cum.
Slowly your vision and senses return to you and Ed slides his slowly softening cock out of your cunt with a satisfied sigh.
You feel a drizzle of his sticky cum oozing from your pussy and dripping down on the altar.
Your eyes meet Ed's, and he graces you with a wide, warm smile that transforms his dishevelled appearance into a moment of genuine warmth as he tucks his dick into his pants.
Ed looks thoroughly fucked out, a layer of sweat covering his bare chest that glistens whenever he moves in the dim light. His hair points in all directions, some strands sticking to his forehead. Yet, in this vulnerable state, you find him more attractive than ever.
“I think that did it”, Ed remarks to Lorraine, his voice carrying a note of satisfaction. As the surroundings gradually come back into focus, you look at Lorraine.
In contrast to you or Ed, she has maintained her composed demeanour, her clothes and hair still neatly in place.
She nods at his words as a subtle acknowledgment, then her gaze shifts from Ed to you and back at him.
“I’ll head back to the house, hon. You both should join me when you’ve cleaned yourselves up.”
Before she leaves, Lorraine steps over to you, her touch gentle as she cradles your face in the palm of her hand.
“You did well”, she says softly, warmth evident in her voice.
With that, she turns to leave, her steps echoing through the silent air as she heads towards the exits leaving you alone in the chapel with Ed, who in the meantime picked up your discarded clothes.
Ed places the clothes next to you on the altar and with a tender gesture he smooths your sweaty hair out of your forehead before leaning in and kissing you in a lingering, sweet kiss.
He starts picking the dried wax from your skin with a careful touch, his fingers tracing over the sore skin softly.
“You did so good”, he murmurs, his words carrying a mixture of pride and tenderness.
As continues to remove the wax he whispers words of affirmation, telling you what a good girl you are, how strong you are and that he is proud of you.
When he reaches your cunt he gives you a cheeky wink before gathering the cum that dripped out of your puffy cunt on his fingers and pushing it back in. You moan when you feel his thick fingers in your sore pussy: “Shit, Ed!”
“I know, sweetheart. Just cleaning you up… And wouldn’t want to waste my cum, right? It has to go where it belongs”, Ed slushes you softly and pumps his fingers into you a few times before he pulls back, satisfied with his work.
Ed helps you down from the altar, his arms enveloping you in a tight hug. You sigh softly, when the warmth he radiates seeps into your bare skin. As you hug, you feel the steady rhythm of his heart beating against your chest. Softly, you stroke his shoulders and back, letting your hands wander over his broad frame.
“Thank you”, you mumble, “for helping.”
You really are grateful for them to try their unorthodox methods on you. Judging by the soreness that inhabits your whole body, you enjoyed it immensely and even if it didn’t help, you’d be more than happy to return for a second session.
He parts from you with a soft kiss to your forehead: “Not for that, sweetheart. It was my pleasure… Just say the word, I’d be more than willing to help you again”.
Blushing at his words, you meet his toothy grin that reflects the genuine warmth when he hands you your clothes. His touch is gentle as he helps you to dress again. Wanting to return the favour, you take the initiative to button up Ed’s shirt.
His voice is soft when he thanks you before he grabs all the things on the altar and stores them in the leather bundle again.
Ed leads you out of the chapel with a hand on your back and you appreciate the soft gesture as you walk away from the stone altar. He opens the door for you and motions you outside with a gentle gesture of his hand before stepping next to you again.
Blinking against the light, you notice that while it is a bit darker than before, it is still brighter than in the chapel. The first thing that strikes you is that the shifting of light does not trigger your headaches - you are blissfully pain free.
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frost-queen · 7 months
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Below the surface (Reader x Ed Warren)
Requested by: @hwangrimi ,Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn
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Ding dong.
Lifting your head up, you turned to look at the door. – “Hang… hang on I think someone is at the door.” – you spoke through the telephone cutting through your friends rambling. – “I’ll leave you on hanging. Wait a second.” – you told her before putting the horn upwards down. Faintly you could hear her voice call out your name. Hesitantly you went towards the door, wondering who it could be. Grabbing the doorknob you opened the door expecting to see anyone. To your surprise there was no one.
Furrowing your brows you wondered if you had imagined the doorbell. Needless you looked around, yet no one was around. Wanting to head back inside your eyes fell down on a stack of letters and a package on your doorstep. Bending down you picked it up. Moving the letters to the back to get to the package. Wrapped in brown paper packages. – “I didn’t order anything.” – you mumbled to yourself.
Returning into the house you placed the items on the counter near where you had left the horn. Still hearing your friends voice call out to you. – “I’m here.” – you said speaking into the horn. – “Goodness you took your time. Who was at the door? A handsome man?” – you heard your friend say in your ear. – “No…” – you answered looking down at the package. – “Just some letters and a package.”
“A package oh what did you buy. You have to tell me. Did you buy the hairdryer? I heard it’s great. Saves you a trip to the hairdresser.” – she replied excitingly. – “I… I didn’t order anything.” – you told her staring strangely at the package. – “Well open it up then. Maybe it is from an admirer. Maybe that guy Ed that used to live in your parent’s neighborhood?” – the mention of Ed’s name made you snap out of your stare. – “Oh hush!” – you told her playfully. – “I haven’t seen him in years. I doubt he would gift me something out of nowhere.” – you explained to her.
“Who knows?” – was her answer. – “Now open it up and tell me what it is.” – your friend encouraging you more to open it. You pressed the horn between your cheek and shoulder to use both hands to open it. Neatly you unwrapped it not wanting to damage the paper. – “What is it?” – you heard your friend say frantically in your ear. Eyes glued onto the package as it revealed to have been hiding a doll. An old raggedy doll with one eye missing that used to be a black button. – “It’s… It’s…” – you started slowly bringing the doll up to eyes-height.
“A doll.” – you finished confused. – “A doll?” – your friend called out. You hummed loud holding the doll in many angles to get a good look at it. – “Why would I have this?” – you wondered setting the doll down to sit. – “Maybe it was wrongly delivered?” – she questioned over the phone. You examined the brown paper package trying to look for a street address. – “It has nothing on it.” – you told her.
You heard her hum loud. – “Is it cute?” – she asked. You took a second to admire the doll once more. – “It’s old.” – you told her. – “Dirty and rather ugly.” – you told her pulling your nose up at the doll. You picked it up once more holding it by the arm as it dangled in the air. The doll’s dress yellowed out from over the years. The dress’s edges ruffled. The stray like red hair tied together in two ponytails. Dust stains on the doll’s face. Then there was that one black button eye.
You stared at it for a moment seeing how shimmering it was. A shudder rushed up your spine making you toss the doll on the counter. You hung up on your friend, saying your goodbye’s over the telephone. Placing the horn back you looked back at the doll. – “I’m not keeping you.” – you said out loud, grabbing the doll by her arm. The doll bounced in your hand as you made your way outside. Going behind your house to open the garbage can.
You opened the lit looking down in it. – “In you go.” – you said tossing the doll down in it. The lit closed leaving the doll in utter darkness. Wiping your hands you headed back inside. Inside you came to a stop hearing water drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Slow and at a constant pace. Following the sound you went into the kitchen seeing the faucet drip. You turned on the handle to block it out. The dripping stopped. Sighing loud you calmed yourself. Somehow you felt lighter with that doll out of your house.
The next morning you woke up, startled to find the doll at your bed’s end. – “I threw you out!” – you said frantically knowing you did… or did you? Moving your fingers through your hair you weren’t sure anymore. Getting out of bed you grabbed the doll with you. – “You’re going in the trash.” – you told it going down the stairs. You froze hearing the radio turn itself on. Static filling the room. The channel constantly changing as a distorted voice came through the static. – “Are… you feeling… nervous?” – the words came through distorted and robotic with a deep growl.
Blinking confused you weren’t sure if you had heard it correctly. The radio only blasting static. Rushing over to it you turned it off. Shaking your head you rushed outside, tossing the doll once more with the trash. Heading back inside you suddenly stopped looking down at your hand. Gasping loud you saw you were still holding the doll. Had you not thrown it out? Something felt odd. As if you couldn’t remember your last actions. You jumped out of your skin when a music box started to play music.
The melody sweet and melancholic. Panicking you dropped the doll on the ground. You snatched the music box from the shelve, throwing it on the ground. The box clattered open, pieces scattering around. Breathing loud, you felt like losing your mind. Heart thumping loudly in your chest. Your eyes fell upon the doll laying down on the ground. Tilting your head to the side, you stared right at the doll. Somehow you felt like it was laughing at you.
Shouting loud you rushed up to the doll, throwing it outside through the door. Exhaling deep you felt a bit at peace. Moving into the living room you hoped to be rid of it forever. The tv flashed on without a warning. Static drizzling the screen. You slowly moved closer to it. How was it possible for it to turn on by itself? Kneeling you came face to face with the tv. – “Mommy please.” – a child’s voice echoed out sounding both haunting as desperate. It made you gasp loud, falling back. The tv shutting out, turning into a black screen.
You screamed seeing a reflection in the blackness of the screen behind you. Turning around your eyes widened seeing the doll sit in the armchair with the remote near it. – “What is going on?” – you frantically called out getting up. Holding your hands over your ears you were panicking. Panting loud as the lights around you started to flicker on and off. A distorted voice laughing as it sounded like all around you. The voice glitching from sweet to deep. A deep tremor you didn’t know anyone possible could bellow.
You took a run for it to the front door. Grabbing the handle you started pulling at it. The door not opening. – “No! No! let me out!” – you called out thumping loudly on the door. From behind you, you felt like someone was approaching. – “Let me out! Let me out! Help!” – you screamed out panicking while jamming frantically on the doorknob. A deep growl rumbled down the hallway. Looking back you saw how blacked out it was. Barely able to see further into your house. – “Help! Help!” – you kept calling out feeling powerless. The door wouldn’t budge as the feeling grew closer.
Creeping up on you like a shadow’s blanket. You heard the radio turn back on. As before only static coming through. – “No! Let me out! Please! Help me!” – you cried out pulling as hard as you could on the handle. – “You’re going to serve…” – the disrupted voice came through. – “No…no please!” – you cried louder, eyes suddenly widening. – “Us.” – a clear voice spoke in your ear. Before you knew it you were grabbed pulled back into the shadow. Your eyes shot awake, slowly lifting your head as you found yourself in bed.
The doll you had thrown out numerous times sitting on the other end of your room. Rubbing your eyes you weren’t sure what hour or day it was. A hazy feeling lingering in your mind. Touching your forehead you felt out of place. Looking up to the doll, it appeared to be staring back at you. The forever attached smile to her face smiling creepily back at you. Gasping startled the light on your nightstand started to flicker. As a response you jumped out of bed, taking the doll with you.
From that day on, you never went anywhere without the doll. Thinking it might have resented you for calling it old and ugly, specially for tossing it away. No matter how many times you threw it away, it always ended back with you. Best not to anger it further you thought. Some days you felt like yourself as other days you couldn’t remember how or when you got to a certain place around your house. Suddenly standing somewhere with an object in your hand, haven forgotten what happened before.
It had been a while since you left the house, but here you were. Outside in town meeting up with your friend. You greeted her from afar, crossing the street. She waved back at her, her brows furrowing at you. From inside your purse she could see the head of a doll pop up. – “Is… is that the doll you had been given?” – she asked confused. You hummed loud. – “Why… why in God’s name are you carrying it with you?” – she asked further finding you very strange. – “Because it doesn’t like to be alone.” – you answered. – “It’s a doll Y/n. A f*cking doll it has no feelings!” – your friend called out finding you a lunatic for even thinking such a thought.
“Shut it!” – you snapped at her with a louder voice than you anticipated. It made your friend flinch. – “Sorry…” – you sighed out rubbing your forehead. – “I don’t know what is happening to me.” – you told her. – “Weird that is what is happening to you!” – she called out with a deep sigh. – “Jeez Y/n when was the last time you went out, or even had a man?” – she questioned looking at you. – “I don’t know.” – you replied exhausted.
Your friend looked behind you, eyes blinking surprised at the sight of someone familiar. – “We’ll change that.” – she hooker her arm with yours, waving excitedly at someone. – “Ed!” – she called out. – “Ed Warren! Ed!” – she kept calling out till she got his attention. You shot her glare wanting to break free from her grip. – “Oh no you aren’t going anywhere.” – she mumbled to you, keeping her smile up.
Ed came over, smiling. – “Y/n is that you?” – he asked. Your friend hummed loud scooting you closer to him. – “It has been a while, perhaps you two should meet up to catch up on lost time.” – she proposed with a cheeky grin. – “I… uhm.. of course… if you don’t mind of course Y/n.” – he felt a bit nervous. – “She doesn’t mind.” – your friend answered pushing you closer to him. You bumped against Ed, smiling sheepishly at him. – “Hi.” – you breathed out. – “Hi.” – he responded smiling shyly down at you. – “Good you kids have fun then.” – your friend wished you the best of luck with him.
Knowing how crazy you two were for each other when growing up. If only you hadn’t moved into another neighborhood, things might have played out sooner. Ed gestured for you to lead the way. The two of you settled in a nice coffee shop down the road. You sat down taking your bag off, setting it beside you on a chair. Ed quirked his brow up at the sight of the raggedy doll’s head sticking out of it. – “Is that yours?” – he asked pointed at the doll. You looked down at it as if forgotten you had it. – “It was gifted to me.” – you replied.
“By who?” – Ed asked further curious about the doll. You pulled your shoulders up. – “I found it at my doorstep, and it won’t leave me.” – you told him, not sure why you said that last part. It felt as if the desperate part in you wanted to share it with anyone. Ed quirked his eyebrow up once more. – “May I see it?” – he held his hand out. You reached for the doll taking it out gently. – “Be careful with it.”
Ed accepted the doll from you, taking a close look at it. He stared into the black button eye. Staring intensely till an apparition in the button made him flinch back. – “What is it?” – you asked concerned. Ed looked from the doll to you with shock. – “Y/n… this doll…” – he started not sure how to put this into words. – “It’s haunted.” – he whispered making you laugh loud. – “Now give it back.” – you extended your hand to him.
Ed stared baffled at you. – “I can’t give this back to you Y/n. You need to get rid of it.” – he explained, feeling yourself grow angrier. – “Give it back!” – you called out louder snatching at the doll. Ed kept it out of reach from you. – “Y/n I don’t think you understand the situation. Let me help you. You see I am a demonologist. I can…” – he went on as you grew impatient. – “Give it to me!” – you shouted getting up. The light in the coffee shop flickering around you.
Ed looked shocked around then to the doll he was holding. You snatched the doll from him. Staring down at it you felt yourself slip in a frozen position. Unable to move while staring into the black buttoned eye. – “Y/n!” – Ed called out grabbing you by the elbow. – “No!” – your mouth said although it wasn’t your voice coming through. A voice much deeper and distorted then yours.
Ed grabbed you firmly by the shoulders, staring at your eyes. He saw how dull your eyes appeared. No sign of light in them. – “Y/n.” – he said cupping your cheeks. He was searching for any signs of yourself. – “Looking for something?” – you replied with a sly smile. Ed clenched his jaw, hardening his gaze on you. – “You’ll burn in hell.” – he whispered threateningly. You could only chuckle devious. – “I already am.” – you answered. Ed grabbed you firm by the arm, pulling you with him.
Outside you seemed to have snapped out of it. – “Are we leaving yet?” – you asked. Ed sat you in his car, shutting the door. – “Ed? Ed where are we going?” – you questioned watching him go around the car. He glanced your way once sitting down. – “I’m going to save you.” – he answered starting the car.  Your eyes widened when he stopped the car at his house. – “Why are we here?” – you asked when Ed pulled you out of the car. He pushed you inside his house, locking the door behind him.
“Give me the doll Y/n.” – he said as soon as he had entered his house. – “No…” – you answered shaking your head. – “Y/n give it to me!” – Ed repeated in a more demanding matter. – “No…” – repeating your words louder. – “Y/n give me the doll and all will be well. I want to help you. Y/n you need help.” – Ed called out desperately. You kept shaking your head, pressing the doll against your chest. – “Y/n! That thing!” – Ed shouted nearly losing his patience. – “That thing is haunted by a demon!”
You looked down at the doll. A whisper filling your ears. – “His words mean to deceive you.” – the whisper said. – “My voice just wants to lead you.” – the whisper continued with a deep grumble. – “Liar!” – you shouted at Ed. Ed tensed his jaw, snatching the doll out of your hands. – “No!” – you called out as he tossed it into the fire. You wanted to run towards it to save it, but Ed grabbed you by your waist. – “Y/n no!” – he called out keeping you close by him. Falling to your knees you watched as the doll burned away.
The black button falling off and dropping into the fires. A loud breath emerged from the fireplace like a breath. – “Who are you?” – Ed asked loud knowing it was released now. He heard a bellowing deep chuckle. Looking down in shock, he heard you chuckle devious in his arms. Ed inhaled sharp pressing his hand up against your cheek. – “Y/n wake up.” – he begged. You kept chuckling as Ed knew it wasn’t you. – “Who are you?” – he asked loudly.
“Don’t you want a kiss?” – you spoke with a voice deeper then yours. Ed moved his head back when you leaned in closer with your lips. – “I command you to tell me your name!” – Ed called out shaking you a bit in his arms. Your eyes closed as your body suddenly started to spasm in his arms. – “No.” – Ed breathed out. – “You will not have her!” – he demanded holding you close to his chest. Closing his eyes he started to recite verses of the bible. Your spasm increased as Ed had to press you hard against him to deafen it out.
“Speak your name!” – he ordered looking up. – “I order you to speak your name!” – Ed continued. Your cheeks became purple having lost any control over your body. It kept spasming, feeling as if you couldn’t breathe. – “Your name!” – Ed screamed out pulling the cross from around his neck off. He pressed it against your chest to protect you. – “Baphomet!” – the demon roared out. Ed tensed his expression, finally knowing it’s name.
Ed started shouted verses of the bible to cast out the demon itself. Your breath shocked, grasping for air as you weren’t getting any. Ed looked down at you, tears in his eyes as he slowly lowered his forehead against yours. He kept on speaking the verses closing his eyes on you. Around him whirled a wind as strong as a storm. The demon was fighting back. His house filled with hundreds of whispers gibberish. Ed wouldn’t listen to it, lifting his head up to shout the verses louder. Repeating them each time with more power.
In his arms were you wheezing for air. – “You will never have her!” – Ed called out between his verses. You gasped one time loud before your chest fell still. In front of Ed appeared a sigil. It burned up till the light died out. Along with the storm that was swirling around him. Ed gasped for air, panting at the effort he just put himself through. – “Y/n?” – he said looking down at you. For a moment your chest didn’t move. Still. – “No… please… Y/n stay with me…”
Then. Your chest started to rise and fall again. Ed exhaled relieved to see you were still breathing and alive. He pulled you a bit up in his embrace to kiss your forehead. – “I’m sorry for not being sooner in your life Y/n. I have found you now and I am not letting you go.” – he whispered. – “You are save now and I’ll keep you save for as long as I live.” – he left a kiss right above your lips.
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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  
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jokekinsjoke505 · 6 months
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Stay with us (part 2)
(part one)
Ed (age 26) X male reader(age 26) X Lorraine Warren( age 25)
Warnings: this is just going to be fluffy and a bit angst
tag list: @wintervenom.
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(3 weeks after the incident) I woke up slowly opening my eyes only to shut them quickly again due to the bright light. I felt a very uncomfortable feeling in my nose and throat I put my hand on my nose only to feel a breathing tube I looked around the room only to find Ed and Lorraine sleeping in the corner I snapped my fingers to try and signal them that I was awake but it didn't work so I said "Ed. Lorraine. I'm okay" I whispered and that was enough to wake them both I was immediately met with hugs and tears from both and once I made eye contact with them both……. I then understood that somebody gave a fuck about me I then felt Lorraine lean over and kiss my cheek making me look at her "Don't do that please" I said as my lip quivered due to the love I had towards them that knew would probably never be returned. I then felt a rough hand on my cheek i looked to my left and saw that it was Ed "Y/n. About your letter. Is that true?" Ed asked me making me look quickly at them both before looking down nodding in shame " Fuck I'm so so sorry guys. It's okay if you guys wanna cut contact with me" I said as I felt a tear run down my cheek but was quickly wiped away by Lorraine who then cupped my face into her hand making me look at her in the eyes. Then unexpectedly she kissed me while Ed held me close scared to lose me " I- w-…w-what?" I said in shock not understanding the situation but then Ed hugged me again squizzing a bit before saying "y/n we love you too" I then felt another tear run down my face.
(time skip to 3 months)
Me, Lorraine, and Ed have started dating but have to hold it a secret due to how much people look down on a truple that a woman can't date two people and how much people look down on two men dating. But when we were for example either in my home or their house we would cuddle, kiss, tell each other 'I love you' and also be able to look at each other without having to hide the love in our eyes. I also started going to therapy and fixing my mental health.
I walked in the door of the warren house and was immediately greeted by Judy who ran to me yelling in happiness "Y/n!!!!!" I quickly lifted the 8-year-old and hugged her then I sat her back down, took off my coat, and went to the kitchen where Ed and Lorraine stood and I quickly was greeted by kisses making me chuckle a bit "So how are you two doing?" I asked while taking a sip of the coffee cup that Ed had prepared for me before I came here "Oh a lot of work… We're heading to the countryside of Burrillville town. Do you mind babysitting Judy for a bit" Ed said and I smiled "Yeah of course I can" I said looking at Judy who was looking at the TV. I then felt a soft hand upon mine " Thank you Y/n that means a lot to us that you're willing to take care of Judy while we're working" Lorraine said to me while smiling before kissing me and I kissed back while smiling a bit into the kiss.
Later that day after spending some time with them they left and I gave them both a goodbye kiss and watched Judy saying goodnight to her parents due to how late it was and that it was time for Judy to go to bed when it was time for them to leave I grabbed Judy from her parents and held her in my arms and I could feel that she was falling asleep already making me chuckle "okay bye goodluck to you two and please try and stay safe" I said to them and watching them drive away then after they were out of sight I closed and locked the door and went upstairs and went to Judy's bedroom while I had her in my arms and when I laid her down onto the bed she woke up and looked at me and said "I love you, papa, goodnight" before falling asleep when she said that it was like being strucked by millions of shock bombs and I sat there for a moment in silence before leaning down kissing the top of her head and whispered "goodnight Judy I love you too" while kissing the top of her head. I stayed there until she fell asleep then I sneaked my way out of her bedroom and went to the guest bedroom and got ready for nighttime.
alright folks this is the end of this story but there will like come like moments between this lovely truple.
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sthefany16 · 1 month
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Please🙏🙏😭
I'm begging for any kind of smut fanfic about Patrick Wilson and his characters, Hard sex, face fucking, cum, virgin reader, age difference, height difference, angry sex, dom/sub, spanking...(Literally everything) Use your creativity surprise me.I need this, I accept everything plis🙏🙏😭♥️
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i-love-spider-people · 10 months
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It's actually criminal that there is like zero Drew Thomas fanfiction so like I might try to actually make a full completed fanfic of him I'm gonna write it on google docs but like do I post here or on Wattpad or Ao3?? OR do I go like super duper old school and post it on fanfiction.net cause why not. I'm joking
Or am I??
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webtrinsic1122 · 5 months
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Idk why it makes me laugh so much in the conjuring when Lorraine is in the crawlspace and asks for the music box, Ed legit just goes up and grabs it from the kid. Legit doesn’t nod for permission or anything, just takes it and she lets him even though she’s been territorial over that thing the whole movie
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milfloveer · 3 months
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I NEED MORE LORRAINE WARREN FANFICS 😭
I'm so in love with her it's not even healthy gosh 😩
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normabateswife · 10 months
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A new scary story straight out of the Conjuring Universe..
https://archiveofourown.org/works/48728629/chapters/122920957
https://www.wattpad.com/story/347199924-the-shattered-soul
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aesopsharpmybeloved · 2 years
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See You Very Soon
Panic arises between Father Paul and you once you learn the dioceses could transfer him elsewhere. Established relationship. This might be one of most (if not the most) angstiest pieces I’ve ever written (if you can even call it that). A happy ending and lots of comfort is a must. Enjoy <3
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See You Very Soon - 4K
tw: slight angst, crying, suggestive themes (mentioned)
Father Paul Hill was usually able to keep his cool where other people would lose their minds. This was important in his line of work as a priest. He needed to be calm, patient, compassionate and always kind. And to everyone on Crockett Island he was just that. However, now there was a storm of emotions swelling within him, like a hurricane they shook him and made his carefully built up calmness crack and crumble. His palms were sweating and a slight dizziness began setting in his head. He knocked upon the wood of your front door and waited.
Having a secret relationship with the local priest was just that - very much a secret. There was some thrill to it, quiet kisses stolen on the beach or in the woods, tender soft words spoken in the silence of Saint Patrick's, lustful moments spent wherever you wouldn't get caught - and occasionally somewhere where getting caught was a real danger. The secrecy of it wasn't that hard to bear, because two people actually did know; your best friend Erin and, to some extent, Riley Flynn. Erin hadn't told him, you knew as much, one day Father Paul casually mentioned that Riley knew. And that he was particularly sassy about it during one of the meetings Joe didn't attend, poking fun at the priest, yet promising to keep the secret. All in all, the relationship was mature, filled with mutual love and respect and built upon a strong base of trust, honesty, understanding and friendship. You were absolutely able to imagine yourself spending the rest of your life by this man's side, helping to guide him and let him guide you. Even though it meant that you would forever need to remain a secret. No wedding, no sound of little feet running around. But you held no regrets - all you needed was the priest and his love.
It was a sunny afternoon and your windows were left open to let the crisp sea air in. You smiled when your gaze fell upon your beloved through the window, your heart filling with delight immediately. Your joy was short-lived though. Even at such a distance you could see Father Paul had a worried line between his expressive eyebrows and a sense of urgency about him. You were standing by the door before he reached it and opened it in the blink of an eye after his last knock. He walked past you quickly, deep in thought, apparently, chewing the inside of his cheek as he often did. He still wouldn't look at you and you grew more and more worried by the second. He had that effect, his emotions so deep and overwhelming you found yourself experiencing them with him. You came forward slowly, as if approaching a frightened animal. "Paul?" your hands slowly touched his forearms and moved up until settling on his shoulders, "what's wrong, my love?" The priest finally looked at you, his eyes unreadable. "I-I um..." he finally spoke, voice uncertain, "I received a call from the dioceses. The nursing home where Monsignor Pruitt currently resides finally sent them his full examination and final conclusion, which confirms that the Monsignor is no longer able to carry out his duty as a priest."
You listened to him intently, not quite grasping why would that upset him so: "Well, and what does that exactly mean? For you, that is?" Father Paul took a deep breath and seemed to wilt before your very eyes. His eyes lifted again to meet yours: "It means that he's no longer the parish priest of Saint Patrick's. The church will need a new priest... And I was put here as Monsignor Pruitt's substitute while he was recovering. Now, since he's been relieved of his duties, it could mean..." Paul's lip shook and his eyes glistened. You didn't say anything. You couldn't if you tried, really, the implications were strong but unthinkable. "I don't automatically become this parish's priest just because I currently serve here. They have the right to find someone else entirely for the post here. They could make me... leave." Hearing these words made you feel like you were a tower hit by a trebuchet fired stone. You trembled, your hands on his shoulders subconsciously squeezing him so hard your knuckles went white and your eyes spilled. However, you refused to give up. There had to be something you could do! "And..." you swallowed hard, "you don't have a say in it? You can't, I don't know, volunteer?" Paul was now holding you around your waist, hanging onto you like a thread saving him from falling down into the abyss. "O-of course I can apply for the position, but if they really need me someplace else, or they find someone better suited... there is nothing I can do about it." "But there's nobody better suited!" you called out desperately, startling the man, "the people here trust you, they adore you! And they need you! You're their spiritual leader, not some seasonal job hired help!"
You were getting more and more upset, tears streaming down your flushed face like salty rivers and your voice broke with sobs. Paul now embraced you fully and made soft shushing noises in an attempt to calm you down. And after the longest while, during which you cried silently into his strong chest, he succeeded. "W-when... when w-will you be m-meeting them?" you asked, your voice hoarse and shaking. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, his cheeks cold and wet from his own tears, yet he spoke steadily, almost monotonically: "Tomorrow. I'm catching the Breeze in the morning. Bev, of course, knows and mass will be cancelled." "I'll come with you," you sniffled meekly, your fingers grabbing at his shirt desperately. "No." he said firmly, startling you a little. He pulled away to look into your eyes, his own were red and puffy. "No," he said again, softer this time, "it's going to be nerve wracking enough... I don't want to put you through it too. Stay here and try not to think about it. If there's anything I truly hate, it's knowing that you're sad." He wiped a single tear off your cheek with his thumb.
You lifted your face and held his own in your hands. You tried to tell him everything you felt for him with your eyes and he seemed to understand, for his lips suddenly captured yours in a hungry kiss. The kiss said what words  could never properly formulate, the deepest, most basic and carnal feelings that bound you two together. You made love the entire night, desperate in your movements, as if it was to be the last time, as if trying to take absolutely everything the other had to offer.
When you woke up in the morning, he was gone and his side of the bed was cold. Your eyes still stung from crying, which you did all throughout your lovemaking, sorrowful tears mixed with heavenly pleasure and burning love. It was only 7 o'clock. You sat up in your bed and fisted the sheets in frustration. Finally, you got up and quickly began dressing yourself, determined to make it to the harbour before Sea Breeze sailed towards the mainland. The morning was rather cold and you foregone putting a jacket on in your hurry, but no chill could reach you. You ran as fast as your own feet would take you, the gravel crackling underneath with each step. Finally you saw the piers, the various fishing boats, big and small and in the centre of them was Breeze, its engine rumbling and with people climbing aboard. One of them was a tall man with jet black hair and he was currently talking to Sturge in front of the ferry. "Paul!" you called , voice still hoarse. His head snapped to you and you could see him gesticulating at the bearded man before he swiftly ran to where you stood. Instinctively, you ducked behind some tall crates and waited for him.
"What are you doing?" asked Paul when he joined you there, "I told you I’d rather you stayed here." Having stopped running, you suddenly felt cold and crossed your arms over your chest in an attempt to preserve your body's heat: "I know and I will, but... y-you didn't even say goodbye." Paul hurriedly took off his jacket to drape it over your bare shoulders. "I couldn't," he admitted then, "the idea of saying goodbye to you considering the situation... I just couldn't." You touched his cool cheek with your hand. "Let's not say 'goodbye' then. Let's just say...'' you thought for a bit, "let's say 'see you soon'. 'See you very soon'." The priest swallowed and closed his eyes, nodding once. You returned his jacket and kissed him deeply. "Uh, Father Paul!" sounded a loud voice, making the two of you part immediately. "Father, we need to go, the ferry should have left five minutes ago!" Your lover gave you one final look, making you feel absolutely seen in every aspect of your existence. "See you very soon."
---
You walked back towards your home slowly, and despite shaking like a leaf from the cold, you took the longer route, through the wooded areas. What was to become of you if the dioceses truly decided to send Paul away. What would you do? You could follow him; but that would mean leaving this island, maybe forever. Leaving the people you grew so fond of, and leaving Erin of all people! How could you ever do that to her? And what if you did follow Paul and you turned up in some community of Bev-like fanatics with eyes everywhere. If they put two and two together, with their new pastor spending suspicious amounts of time with a newcomer young woman, it could ruin him. It could wreck his entire career as God's servant. And you couldn't do that to him either, you could never. Yes, he was breaking his celibacy vows with you, but he was otherwise made to be a priest and he fulfilled his duties masterfully. There were folks who observed themselves as broken beyond repair, doomed to forever live in despair. They weren't like that to Father Paul Hill. To him, nobody was beyond repair, nobody was doomed, and everybody deserved his help if they asked for it. He was an amazing person who went out of his way to help people, and part of the reason he was able to do that was his position as a spiritual leader. If you rid the world of that, if you rid him of that, you'd never be able to forgive yourself.
What if you stayed and he left? Would that mean your entire relationship was over? Or would you attempt to keep it long-distance? How often would you be able to visit him, once a week? A fortnight? Once a month? What if he was moved to the other end of the country? Writing paid well, but not nearly well enough for you to be able to afford tickets across the whole of the USA every week. What if - and you froze in your tracks - what if he met someone? What if he met someone... better than you? Some prettier, smarter girl who'd steal his heart... The idea made weakness rush through you and you sat down upon a nearby boulder, hugging yourself tighter. So cold. Another thought occurred to you, one that made you feel sick with yourself. Because if Paul really did leave and found someone better, you wouldn't be able to be happy for him. No, you hated yourself for it, you felt incredibly selfish, but you wouldn't be able to be happy for him, even if he was happy. At least for a while... For a long while, all you would feel would be agony and jealousy and rage.
You started crying again, sobbing into your cold hands and leaning your forehead against your knees. "Oh dear, what are you doing here, dressed like that?!" came a voice from somewhere to you left, "you're going to catch your death!" You looked for the source of the voice and found Annie. She was merely 15 metres away and walking swiftly towards you. "Oh, oh dear," she said once more, her kind voice filled with worry as she saw your tear-stained cheeks. She approached closer and got to her knee in front of you, putting her warm hands on your knees in a very motherly way: "Get up, sweetie, we need to get you someplace warm." You didn't know why you immediately obeyed, why it didn't even occur to you to protest. It was probably the feeling of maternal safety you got whenever you were in Annie's presence. You got up from the cold boulder, letting the older woman wrap an arm around your shoulders and lead you to her home.
---
"I heard your stay on Crockett Island was quite fruitful. Steady growth in attendees of daily and Sunday masses, and the Easter vigil was apparently a big success," Bishop Theodore listed, observing a few pages in front of him, "you also began an AA program, from what I'm told." "Yes," Paul replied. Ever since he parted ways with you, his legs felt unsteady and he was more nervous than he ever was before. Now especially, since the conversation reached the subject of his illness some time ago, and he had to explain that you were a dear friend of his who helped him a lot after he first came on the island. Seeing as you were very much a newcomer too. The bishop accepted this answer without another word. "Now," he put the papers back into a simple thin manilla folder, "there is a church in northern Massachusetts which recently lost their pastor to old age. It's a bigger town and I think you'd do very well there... However, I'd like to ask about your opinion as well. You seemed rather unwell ever since you stepped over the threshold." The younger priest blinked and fiddled with his hands in his lap.
"Yes, I'd... is there any chance I'd be able to remain on Crockett Island?" he asked, finally looking directly at Theodore. "Stay on Crockett?" the older man asked, surprised, "but it's such a small place, with so few people. To be quite honest, I half expected to find a priest here who would only venture there to serve Sunday mass. Why would you want to stay there? In Massachusetts, you could grow as a priest, maybe you could even become a bishop yourself, someday." Father Paul swallowed and took a deep breath: "I know. But... that's not what I want. I've grown... used to Crockett Island and I can't just leave the people. They became my neighbours and friends. They were used to having Monsignor Pruitt there everyday, not only on Sunday, he was their spiritual leader for, what, 50 years? And they got used to me too, now," he leaned forward on his chair to rest his elbows on his thighs, "I still have responsibilities to them. I have to continue leading them in Christ, I have to carry on with the AA program. I need to be available to them when they need me. It's my duty not only as a priest, but also as a good Christian."
The bishop looked at him with his baby blue bespeckled eyes, observing the young pastor curiously. "Please, Excellency," Paul looked up and held his gaze, "let me stay on Crockett Island." There was silence, disturbed only by the steady ticking of a massive grandfather clock. Paul could have screamed, and he could've begged and he'd probably give anything to be able to escape his superior's piercing gaze. But then, in a moment which engraved itself into Paul's memory forever, the older man smiled warmly at him. "Very well then," he said only, "if you really do wish to take on the full responsibility of being this parish's priest permanently, so be it. We'll have to go over a few things then, though." A mountain fell from Father Paul Hill's shoulders.
---
You sat at the Flynn family home, a warm knitted blanket resting over your shoulders and a cup of hot tea in your still cold hands. You felt incredibly stupid, but also strangely numb. Annie sat opposite of you, looking at you questioningly, but not prying. Only when she realised you wouldn't spill your beans on your own did she finally speak: "Is this about Father Paul, dear?" Your eyes widened in shock and you almost heard a record scratch in your head. "What," you said eloquently. "Oh you know, are you having problems? Did you have an argument, maybe?" You couldn't believe your own ears. Annie Flynn (whom you definitely haven't told of your relationship with the local priest) was casually asking whether the two of you had a domestic. Still, you tried to deny: "I-I don't really know what you're talking about, Annie." The woman just chuckled and rolled her eyes, as if this entire situation was just one big joke and you were being cheeky with her. "Oh, come now, sweetie!" Your cheeks took on a light shade of crimson and you suddenly felt too hot.
"Father Paul and I, we are-.... we're fond of each other." you said quietly, as if the entire Island could hear you, "and the fondness goes beyond friendship." You were terrified of looking at Annie and seeing her disappointed face, you were so afraid of what she's going to tell you. But instead of some deeply disapproving retort or maybe even an insult, a gentle hand landed under your chin instead, lifting it. There was no disappointed look on Annie's beautiful face, there was no frown, no knitted eyebrows. Instead, Annie Flynn was smiling at you, comfortingly, warmly. Your rapid heartbeat slowed down and your black thoughts started to dissolve like salt in hot water. Saint of a woman, she was. "I know," Annie said only. You still questioned her with your gaze, wanting to know how she found out. She chuckled again and stroked your cheek: "I had my suspicions for a while. I only knew for sure a week ago." You searched through your brain for any moment spent with Annie in the last week when you might've let something slip. "I went to meet Ed for lunch. He was on his own for the day, so we figured we could make it a little romantic. And then I pass this small hidden beach and what do I see? Someone's already being romantic here!"
"Oh my goodness..." you let your head fall into your hands. You knew exactly what Annie was talking about. Back then, you and Paul agreed that Sex On a Beach was a fine drink and a great thing, but not quite in broad delight, and most definitely not without at least a picnic blanket, lest you brink the Beach back home with you. And thank god for that, because it meant you and Father Paul were merely engaging in languid snogging right when Annie must have accidentally seen you. She actually laughed at your horror-stricken face. "How- how can you be so fine with this? I mean, you're basically a saint, and I... He's a priest, and h-his vows... I thought you'd be angry with me."
The older woman shook her head: "These things happen, (F/N), way more often than you'd think. When I was young there was a rumour that even Monsignor Pruitt... well, anyway, it doesn't change anything. You're both lovely people and you've got a lot in common. And even though he's a clergyman, the two of you are still very much humans. He's still a wonderful pastor who does his work dutifully, and you're still a dear friend who's always ready to offer a helping hand, and I'm not judging either of you. It's a happiness that harms no one." You listened to Annie's kind voice, feeling more and more at ease with every word. Still: "But it's a sin." "Perhaps," she admitted, "everybody sins. I too sin. So does my husband and my boys. And the entire island. If your greatest sin is love for another person, I think god might just be willing to turn a blind eye to it."
You couldn't help it, you had to grin. But as you sat with her in silence, the dark fear of losing Father Paul came back. "But I'm afraid I'll lose him," you conceded, "I'm afraid they'll send him to another parish, far away, and I won't be able to follow." "Is that why you were crying earlier, dear?" You didn't answer immediately. "It's just... I've had a few...boyfriends over the years, but I feel like what I felt for them wasn't a thousandth of what I feel for Paul. I was very fond of them, but I've never been so utterly terrified of losing them." Annie smiled but said no more.
---
You spent the entire day at the Flynn house, helping Annie with various household chores, aiding her in preparation of dinner. Warren came home from school, then disappeared for some time again, presumably with his friends. Or maybe Leeza. Ed, Riley and Erin also joined you. Right when almost everyone sat down at the dinner table, there came a knock from the door. Seeing as you were the only one still standing, you went to answer. Your eyes widened in surprise when they landed on Father Paul Hill. "Hi. How did you know where I am?" you asked softly and joined him outside, closing the door behind you. "Annie sent me a text," he explained, patting the pocket of his jacket which contained his phone. "Can we talk?" he asked and took a hold of your hand. You let him lead you by the side of the house, away from the streetlight and into the dark backyard of Annie and Ed's home. He sat down with you then, so you were facing the sea, not letting go of your hand for a single moment. "So... how did it go?" you asked, uncertain once more, but trying to make your voice sound neutral. "Bad," replied the priest in a strange voice, "horrible, really. (F/N), Angel, prepare for the worst." Your heart sank and you felt fresh tears already fighting their way out.
"Oh god, Paul!" you sighed shakily, but didn't manage to get another word out, because: "Yes, it seems you won't be getting rid of me after all, and this time it's permanent." You gasped and stared at him in utter bewilderment. You recovered quickly though: "You! Utter! Git!" you punctuated each word with a light slap to his chest. He had the absolute audacity to giggle, and while it was a beautiful sound to hear, you weren't quite ready to forgive him just yet. "Don't you dare laugh at me, I was bloody terrified!" You stopped hitting him and instead left your hands on his chest and rested your head on his shoulder. "I know, I'm sorry," he said quietly, stroking up and down your back. You breathed him in, he smelled like the sea and incense and something that was so uniquely him, and you were getting high on this scent. His hand then ventured up the back of your neck and into your hair, and he gently made you pull away. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." And then Father Paul Hill crashed his lips against yours with reckless abandon, making you moan into the kiss and open your mouth. Your teeth clashed and tongues met, and you held onto your beloved as you let your upper body lean back until it hit the ground. He could only follow and soon he was above you, not having parted from your lips for a single second.
You supposed you could forgive him.
---
"They're kissing," said Ed, covertly peeking out of the window. "Yeah," replied Warren in between bites, "they do that a lot." His family turned to face him, surprised looks on their faces. "How would you know?" asked Annie, who was surprised the only member of her family who genuinely had no idea of the relationship between the local priest and you had been her husband. "I can never take Leeza anywhere, they're always in the best spots!" This retort earned him a disapproving look from his father, but an amused chuckle from everyone else.
I hoped you enjoyed reading! As always, you can check this story and the entire series on AO3. I’m a huge sucker for reviews, they always lift my spirits <3
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hotmessteaparty · 11 months
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WIP Music Monday
The rules : Post a song that is relevant to your WIP or inspires it.
I was tagged by my beloved girl @josephseedismyfather and I gotta tell you I am really excited to do this! Especially since music is a big point for all my fics 😁 so I'm following her lead and also post the lyrics to my different stories.
As always no pressure to do this tag, this is just for fun ❤️ I'm tagging @blaze13full @writermml @jasonsnowwhitebrody @insanityofvaas @merryandrewsworld @michaelmandog @thirdstreetmangos
For The Lost Souls - Prequel to Narcotic (Vaas Montenegro background story)
You've never been a sinner, maybe you're not the only one
The world it won't be shaking and burning on that day when you're gone
You'll never see the things that you've been dreaming of
As long as you are bound to all these empty words
They're calling you a sinner
Since the day you're born
And wrote it in your mind
But still you've got a chance to turn
Or live a lie
Narcotic - Vaason FF
So you face it with a smile
There is no need to cry
For a trifle's more than this
Will you still recall my name?
And the month it all began
Will you release me with a kiss
Have I tried to draw the veil?
If I have how could I fail
Did I fear the consequence?
Dazed by careless words
Cosy in my mind
I don't mind
I think so
I will let you go
I don't mind
I think so
I will let you go
Now you shaped that liquid wax
Fit it out with crater cracks
Sweet devotion, my delight
Oh, you're such a pretty one
And the naked thrills of flesh and skin
Would tease me through the night
Now I hate to leave you bare
If you need me I'll be there
Don't you ever let me down
Dazed by careless words
Cosy in my mind
I don't mind
I think so
I will let you go
I don't mind
I think so
I will let you go
And I touched your face
Narcotic mind from lazed Mary Jane
And I called your name
Like an addicted to cocaine
Calls for the stuff he'd rather blame
And I touched your face
Narcotic mind from lazed Mary Jane
And I called your name
My cocaine
In The Room Where You Sleep - Unposted Ed x Lorraine FF
I saw something sitting on your bed
I saw something touching your head
And in the room where you sleep
In the room where you sleep
Where you sleep
Where you sleep
Where you sleep
You better run
You better run
You better hide
You better hide
You better hide
There's something in the shadows
In the corner of your room
A dark heart is beating and waiting for you
There is no open window, but the floors still creep
In the room where you sleep
In the room where you sleep
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I just know Drew gets so pissed when a ghost knocks over the equipment because it's him who has to fix it when it breaks.
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doormatty3 · 4 months
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Pushing Further (Josh Lambert x Reader)
Masterlist Ao3
Summary:
[Josh Lambert x Female Reader] [Josh Lambert x You] There is nothing more stressful than moving day - the campus is packed with freshmen and their parents. And you just want some peace and quiet. However, amidst the tumult, a tall, broad, and handsome man grabs your attention that is until he sends you sprawling to the floor. Annoyed you go on with your life and meet Dalton who you soon befriend. When you find out that the stranger is his father - you're doomed. Josh Lambert is everything you want in a man but there are reasons why you should not give in: He's almost two decades your senior, divorced and most importantly your friend's dad So you go out of your way to avoid him and walk the tightrope between attraction and avoidance. That doesn't make him any less hot though - even more when you discover that the attraction is mutual. OR: And they were friends - except you fucked his dad.
Wordcount: 7,134
Warnings: 18+, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, smut, dirty talk, older man/ younger woman, daddy issues
A/N: There is a criminally small amount of Josh Lambert ffs, so I decided to change that
ALSO: Insidious 5 plot (Josh Lambert) >>>>
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You hate move-in day. 
The college campus swirls with a kaleidoscope of emotions. Freshmen, wide-eyed and eager, navigate through the labyrinth of unfamiliar buildings, their parents hovering nearby, taking in the scenery, a mix of pride and reluctance in their gaze as they prepare to part with their newly-minted scholars.
The sun bathes the bustling scene in its warm rays, transforming the campus into a vibrant panorama. The old grey stone building looms tall and resolute against the canvas of the sky. It wears the patina of years with a dignified charm, its weathered facade a testament to the countless stories etched into its walls.
As you observe this annual rite of passage, a sense of nostalgia mingles with a tinge of wistfulness. Your own move-in day, with its mix of excitement and trepidation, feels like a distant reverie. Now a senior, the campus teeming with eager newcomers stirs conflicting emotions. The excitement and youthful energy are heartening, yet the multitude of people and the bustling activity feel almost too much, too overwhelming.
You sit at a secluded spot beneath the sprawling canopy of one of the many trees that grace the campus. From this vantage point, you observe the ebb and flow of people, hesitant to venture into the dorms that will surely be crowded.
The leaves above gently rustle in the breeze as you sit, absorbing the sights and sounds of the day. 
Your attention is drawn to a cluster of fellow students distributing flyers, unmistakably advertising a fraternity event that you have never attended and will never attend - the frat boys just creep you out. Self-assured and arrogant has never been your type to hang out with.
However, amidst the lively scene, your gaze lingers on a lanky young man strolling by, seemingly impervious to the flyers being thrust into the hands of passersby. 
Artist, you think. Everything about him just extrudes an artistic flair and you’re sure that your assumption would be right if you were to ask him.
You watch him stride away from the frat boys and you can’t help but think that he made a good choice by not interacting with them.
Your attention shifts from the bustling crowd to the presence of a man making his way down the path. Intrigued, you furrow your brow, momentarily curious about whose father he is. Your eyes linger on him, drawn by a magnetic quality.
As he walks, you find it hard not to notice his striking appearance. Despite the rough edges, there’s a rugged handsomeness about him. He is tall, with broad shoulders and his short, wispy light brown hair catches the sunlight, adding a subtle sparkle to his presence. A scruffy stubble grazes his face, enhancing that rugged charm.
Your gaze can’t help but follow the flex of his muscles as he carries a considerable amount of stuff for his child. The hot summer day is a blessing, you think, since it prompted him to don a tight polo shirt and shorts. You silently appreciate the view - the way his biceps and triceps tense with each step, and the way the shirt accentuates the breadth of his shoulders and chest.
Silently observing, you witness him engaging in conversation with the fraternity members, taking one of their flyers, presumably for his child. You can see him being a frat boy in his younger years - he certainly has the looks. 
As he walks away, the flyer securely in his grasp, your eyes remain fixed on him. The contrast between his mature, composed stature and the frat boys is striking. His steps are deliberate, and everything about his presence seems secure and strong.
Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you watch him and you’re somewhat surprised - even if also glad - that he doesn’t acknowledge your burning gaze since you’re practically undressing him.
Part of you hopes that you’ll see him more often on the campus and that that won’t be the last time your paths cross - maybe you’ll be able to strike up a conversation with him.
Your gaze lingers in the direction where the broad man disappeared and you find yourself momentarily lost. The vibrant energy of those who come after him seems to pale in comparison, they fail to capture your interest and it begins to feel boring.
With a sigh, you stretch your limbs, the pull of your muscles urging you to stand up. The prospect of a quieter atmosphere within the dorms becomes increasingly tempting, and hope that the flow of people there will have dulled. 
_____
Rounding the corner and approaching your dorm, you eagerly open the door, hoping for a reprieve from the bustling crowds. However, your optimism is quickly diminished as you find the space still densely packed with a mix of eager freshmen, parents, and the occasional irritated senior, annoyed at the number of people - a hive of activity and a melting pot of an array of voices.
Undeterred, you press forward, determined to make your way to your room despite the persistent throng. 
Navigating through the diverse sea of faces you make your way down the corridor. The air is charged with a blend of anticipation, familial warmth, and a touch of exasperation from those who had hoped for a quieter return to their familiar living spaces.
The sounds of conversations, laughter, and occasional sighs create a lively symphony that fills the air, providing a vivid backdrop to the varied emotions playing out in the cramped dormitory corridor. 
Turning another corner, your curiosity is piqued, and you slow your pace to observe the activity around you. As you walk past a series of doors, your attention is drawn to the scenes unfolding in each room - freshmen unpacking with enthusiasm and parents offering last-minute advice.
Lost in this observational moment, you’re caught off guard as someone collides with you, sending you sprawling to the floor suddenly. A breath escapes you and you blink disoriented.
In the abrupt stillness that follows, you glance up to see the source of the collision, and to your surprise, it’s the handsome man from earlier. In the fleeting seconds your eyes lock, and you notice the striking shade of blue in his gaze and the sadness that seems to emanate from him.
Rather than offering a hand to help you up, he mumbles a quick apology and resumes his stride without missing a beat. A sense of frustration flares within you - as handsome as he is, his manners are clearly lacking.
Arsehole, you think as. you gather yourself from the floor with a shake of your head.
The brief encounter leaves you with a mix of bewilderment and a lingering sense of irritation as you make your way to your room.
______
Professor Armagan’s voice reverberates through the expansive art studio, commanding the attention of her assembled freshman class as she introduces you. 
“Today, I want you to meet one of our seniors—she’s really gifted, and it’s important to me that you get to know more students of mine,“ she declares, her enthusiasm evident in the cadence of her words.
You raise your hand in acknowledgement, a subtle greeting to the newcomers, and take a moment to let your eyes wander across the room. The art studio, a sanctuary of creativity, is filled with eager faces, each potentially harbouring a unique artistic voice.
As your gaze travels through the room, you spot the lanky boy from the first day. 
Ha, I knew it, a quiet sense of validation washes over you - your intuition about him being an artist appears spot-on and judging by the strokes on his canvas, a talented one at that.
The lesson unfolds with a straightforward tempo, and your role is mainly confined to sharing insights about the college and providing a glimpse into how art functions in Professor Armagan’s class. The information is delivered efficiently, and you find yourself relieved as the session concludes.
“Hi, I’m Dalton,“ the lanky boy strides up to you, extending a hand in greeting.
You reciprocate with a friendly smile, taking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Dalton,“ 
As your eyes fall upon Dalton’s pencil drawing, you can’t help but offer a genuine compliment. “Wow, this is really good. You’ve got some serious talent,“ you remark, appreciating the skill evident in his work.
Dalton’s face lights up with a grateful smile. “Thanks, I appreciate that,“ he replies, the sincerity in his tone confirming your initial impression of him as a genuinely nice individual, and you find yourself thinking that Dalton is the kind of person you could see yourself being friends with. 
“You have to work on your disguise though - I could tell from a mile away that you chose the art program and was just wondering whether you made it to her class,“ with a playful grin, you jest to Dalton.
Dalton chuckles at your remark, and there’s a warmth in his response, “Yeah, I guess it’s pretty obvious, huh? Can’t hide the artist in me, I suppose.“
As you both exit the art studio together, the door softly closes behind you, the ambient sounds of the campus filling the air. The sunlight casts a warm glow over the pathway as you begin to make your way through the bustling campus, the occasional laughter and conversations of students blending into the lively background.
Turning to Dalton, you initiate a conversation about his college experience so far. 
“So, how are you finding college so far? How’s it treating you?“ you inquire, a casual smile accompanying your words.
Dalton reflects, “It’s been an interesting ride. Meeting new people, navigating through classes, and, of course, diving into the art program. It’s everything I hoped for, honestly.“
The two of you continue to stroll, the campus unfolds around you. 
Dalton shares more about his classes and the artistic projects he’s eager to explore, and you reciprocate with your own anecdotes.
Continuing your conversation, you find a natural segue to inquire about Dalton’s residence on campus. “By the way, which dorm are you in?“ you ask curiously with a casual tone.
Dalton smiles, “Oh, I’m in the last one down the path. How about you?“
As he reveals his dormitory, you can’t help but feel a spark of excitement. “No way! Me too,“ you respond, a genuine grin spreading across your face.
Dalton’s eyes light up with joy, and you pick up on the enthusiasm that suggests he might not have a large circle of friends. 
He suggests, “We should totally hang out sometime. And you’ve got to meet my roommate, Chris – she’s really cool.“
You quirk an eyebrow and playfully tease Dalton, “Rooming with a girl, huh? The administration must have a wild sense of humour.“
Dalton chuckles, “Yeah, it was a bit of a surprise for both of us. Chris is fine, though. We make it work.“
You share a laugh, the notion of unexpected room assignments becoming a shared source of amusement. “Well, I’m definitely looking forward to meeting this mysterious Chris. Maybe the three of us could grab a coffee or something,“ you suggest, already envisioning potential hangout sessions.
Dalton’s eyes light up with genuine enthusiasm. “That sounds awesome! Chris will love it. She’s been itching to make some new friends around here.“
“How about this? There’s this amazing little coffee shop I’ve been a regular at since my first year here. It’s got this cosy vibe, and I think you and Chris would really enjoy it,“ you suggest, your enthusiasm echoing through your words.
Dalton’s eyes light up even more, his excitement matching yours. “That sounds awesome! I’m in, and I’m sure Chris will love it too.“
As you and Dalton walk through the dormitory halls, he suddenly comes to a stop and points to a door. “This is my room,“ he says with an appreciative smile, gratitude evident in his eyes.
You return the smile and quip, “Well, look at that! I guess I’ve been on the unofficial welcome committee. My room’s just further down the hall.“
Dalton laughs, appreciating the light-hearted exchange. “Thanks for walking with me. Do you wanna stop by tomorrow? I’d introduce you to Chris and we can get that coffee?“
“Absolutely, sounds like a plan,“ you respond. “See you tomorrow, dude,“ you add with a nod and a parting wave, continuing down the hall to your own room.
_____
The next day, you make your way to Dalton and Chris’s room, thankful to do something today. The familiar dormitory halls lead you to their door, and you give a light knock before it swings open.
Dalton greets you with a welcoming smile. “Hey! Glad you could make it. This is Chris,“ he introduces, gesturing towards a short, black girl with braided hair, vibrant clothes, and a warm smile.
“Nice to meet you! Dalton’s mentioned you,“ Chris says and extends her hand, you grab it and shake it.
Upon entering the room, your eyes are immediately drawn to Dalton’s paintings adorning the walls. “These are really nice,“ you remark, genuinely appreciating the artistic talent displayed.
Dalton beams with gratitude. “Thanks,“ he responds, a hint of pride in his voice.
As the three of you settle into conversation, you decide to delve into a bit of small talk. “So, Chris, do you also major in art?“ you inquire, curious about her academic pursuits.
Chris chuckles, her demeanour warm and friendly. “Nope, not at all. I’m actually a math major. Total left brain-right brain dynamic we’ve got going on here,“ she says with a playful twinkle in her eye.
As the conversation flows, a sudden knock interrupts the camaraderie. Chris and Dalton exchange confused glances, both wearing expressions of mild bewilderment. “Were you expecting someone?“ Chris asks, looking at Dalton.
Dalton shakes his head, equally puzzled. “No, I have no idea. Were you?“
“Nah,“ Chris mirrors the headshake.
The room falls into a brief silence as Dalton opens the door, revealing a man standing on the threshold. Dalton’s confusion is palpable as he utters, “Dad?“
A breath hitches in your throat as recognition sets in. It’s him - the handsome man from your first day, the same person who unintentionally sent you sprawling to the floor and didn’t have the decency to help you up. The lingering ache in your hip serves as a constant reminder of that memorable encounter.
“Hey. Sorry for the surprise visit. I was in the area and thought I’d drop by and talk to Dalton,“ he says, his eyes widening a bit as they lock onto yours. Recognition flickers across his face. “I’m Josh, by the way.“
Holding his gaze, you find yourself momentarily captivated, drinking in the details like a starved soul. His blue eyes, once a passing detail, now reveal a depth that draws you in. The slight curl of his hair at the nape of his neck and around his ears adds a touch of casual charm, accentuated by the scruff of his beard that now appears more prominent. Your gaze appreciatively lingers on the nuances, savouring the details.
Your appreciative gaze shifts downward, taking in the way his dark blue, tight dress jacket with rolled-up sleeves complements the form-fitting light blue t-shirt beneath. The fabric spans deliciously over his broad shoulders, chest, and the little tummy he has, accentuating his physique effortlessly. It makes you want to be under him, your bodies pressed together while he thrusts inside you, holding you tightly with his strong body - you’re sure that he’s soft in just the right places while being muscular and powerful.
The spell of fascination is abruptly broken as Chris, standing next to you, coughs purposefully to snap you out of your trance. The sudden interruption startles both you and Josh and you tear your eyes away from him. 
You can’t shake the feeling that the attraction is not one-sided. Josh’s lingering gaze and the subtle shift in his expression suggest that he, too, was captivated.
The realization that the attraction might be mutual, even in this unexpected and somewhat inappropriate context, leaves a tinge of discomfort. Josh is not just a stranger; he’s Dalton’s dad, Dalton who is your friend. You silently hope that Dalton didn’t pick up on it. 
Meeting Dalton’s gaze, you instantly sense that hope is futile - his raised eyebrow speaks volumes,
Josh clears his throat and his tongue darts out to wet his lips, your eyes involuntarily follow the movement, captivated by the subtle gestures. 
For a brief moment, you indulge in the thought of his lips on yours, and his tongue on you. You wonder, if the stubble would scratch you, leaving marks on your skin so you could remember and feel him days later.
“Well, I should get going—I didn’t want to interrupt you,“ Josh says, directing his gaze at you again. “It was nice to meet you.“
As Josh offers a tight-lipped smile and exits the room. Once he’s gone, both Dalton and Chris turn their attention toward you.
“What was that?“ Chris’s inquiry comes with a hint of humour.
“Could you not undress him with your eyes next time - he’s my dad,“ Dalton says to you and you feel your cheeks heating up.
“I’m sorry, man,“ you mumble, a tinge of embarrassment colouring your words, “It isn’t my fault he’s hot.“
_____
The next time you encounter him, you’re on your way to your dorm as Josh is just leaving.
“Hey, Josh,“ you greet him with a bright smile.
He responds with a big, bright, and goofy grin etched on his handsome face. You can’t help but think that he looks good when he smiles. 
“Hey, it’s nice to see you again,“ he greets you, his eyes sweeping over your form, lingering longer on the neckline of your tight shirt than is appropriate. 
“I’m sorry for running you over when he first met,“ he starts, scratching over the hair on the back of his head, “ Or at least just walking away and not helping you up again.“
You reach out to place a reassuring hand on the skin of his arm. Intending for it to be a featherlight, brief touch, as soon as your fingertips trace over his arm, it feels like electricity is being passed through you. 
Josh, in response to the touch, swallows heavily, his Adam’s apple bobbing in a visible display of tension. Instead of pulling away, he surprises both of you by taking your hand in his. Intertwining your fingers, he begins to rub soothing circles over the back of your hand with his thumb.
You notice the size of his hands—big and fitting for a man of his stature.
At that moment, it feels as though time stands still. Both of you just stand there, locked in a gaze, drinking in each other’s presence. 
As he moves a bit closer, you become acutely aware of him, and his scent engulfs you like a private cocoon. It’s uniquely him - a blend of cologne and something inherently Josh. The cologne carries a woody fragrance, specifically dry wood, with nuanced undertones of sandalwood and amber.
The sun casts shadows on his face and accentuates the contours of his features. You observe that the short beard framing his face is threaded with salt-and-pepper hair. The interplay of light and shadows makes him more than just attractive—it renders him captivating. 
His blue eyes, sparkling in the sunlight, reveal a depth that draws you in. They are akin to fire in water, reflecting a passionate intensity that burns within the warm sun-lit undercurrents of his gaze. 
The healthy shine of his hair catches your attention, and you can’t help but notice the vibrancy it adds to his overall appearance. Your fingers itch to push the wayward locks behind his ear again, to feel if it is as soft as it looks.
The enchanting moment is abruptly shattered as someone carelessly bumps into you, jolting you out of the reverie. In the sudden disturbance, Josh releases your hand.
“I-,“ he clears his throat, the remnants of the charged moment still lingering, “should get going.“
There’s a palpable pause, a shared awareness of the disrupted connection. At that moment, you sense that he, too, is affected by the sudden intrusion into the private bubble you unintentionally created. The unspoken understanding between you deepens, and as he looks at you with an intensity that mirrors your own feelings, you find yourself nodding in agreement.
As Josh begins to move away, you’re left standing there, your gaze fixed on him. Your eyes trail along his departing figure, captivated by the sight of his muscular back.
_____
The inappropriate thoughts about Josh weigh heavily on your conscience, creating a turbulent storm of emotions within you that refuses to settle.  Part of you acknowledges the relief of not having seen him in quite some time, while another part feels a twinge of sadness - There’s an undeniable sense of loss or longing; you want to see him again. 
But you cherish your friendship with Dalton and don’t want to jeopardise it. It feels like you walk on a tightrope between desire and loyalty, especially because you’re fairly certain that this perpetual tension will snap at some point. So you find yourself consciously avoiding Dalton and Chris’s room. The fear of running into his handsome father fuels you, in particular, because he seems to make frequent visits - and the question lingers in the front of your mind: does he purposefully stop by so often, driven by a desire to see you?
Your gaze drifts around your dorm room, and you spot a sketchbook that isn’t yours. A moment of realization hits you like a sudden jolt—shit, that’s Dalton’s. He’s forgotten it again.
With the certainty that both Dalton and Chris are currently in class, you entertain the idea of stopping by to return the forgotten sketchbook. The timing seems opportune—no risk of encountering them, and by extension, no chance of a surprise visit from Josh, Dalton’s father.
The thought forms a plan in your mind, and you decide to seize the moment. The dormitory halls echo with quiet solitude as you make your way to Dalton and Chris’s room.
The door swings open, and to your surprise, the room isn’t as empty as you expected. There, standing in the middle of the room is Josh,
Time seems to slow as you lock eyes with him, and an involuntary thought escapes your mind— Jesus, your memories really didn’t do his handsomeness justice.
You find yourself taking in the details—the way the room frames him, the play of light accentuating the contours of his features, and the way his presence seems to fill the space.
All the subtle nuances of his appearance, from the slightly tousled hair to the hint of scruff on his jaw, draw your attention. His blue eyes, usually a captivating shade, seem to shine darker than normal, adding a layer of intensity to the moment.
“I didn’t expect you here,“ the words escape your mouth, almost breathlessly, and you curse the involuntary reaction you have to Josh.
Instead of responding immediately, he looks you over, his gaze lingering on your form. Then, he opens his mouth and says, “You’ve been avoiding me.“ 
It’s not a question; it’s a statement, and it holds a truth you can’t deny. You have been avoiding him, but it’s more about not trusting yourself in his presence than anything else.
As you remain silent, Josh takes a step closer, closing the distance between you. His hand lands on the wood of the door, near your head, applying gentle pressure. The muscles in his chest and arms tense as he leans against the door, closing it with a quiet click. 
Instead of moving away, he keeps standing there, effectively boxing you in between the door and his body.
He maintains an unbroken gaze on you, his eyes locked onto yours. The close proximity allows you to observe the intricate details of his eyes. They are not uniformly blue; instead, there’s a fascinating interplay of shades. A ring of light blue delicately encircles the pupil, creating a mesmerizing gradient with the darker blue that surrounds it. The hues blend seamlessly, forming a captivating dance of colours within the confines of his gaze.
The fragile silence hangs in the air, and a subtle fear lingers—fear that any spoken word or sudden movement might shatter the enchanting spell woven between you and Josh. In the cocoon of quietude, you choose to remain still, each heartbeat echoing in the confined space, cautious not to disrupt the delicate equilibrium of the moment. 
You can’t help but feel lazy arousal starting to pool through your veins, fueled by Josh.
“Tell me to stop,“ Josh speaks, his words almost a whisper, “tell me to walk away.“
The quiet plea hangs in the air, revealing the internal struggle he faces. He’s your friend’s dad, divorced, and almost two decades your senior—valid reasons to resist the magnetic pull drawing you both in. Yet, in this charged moment, those rational arguments seem to lose their significance in the haze of him that clouds your thoughts. 
Your eyes flicker to his lips, and as quietly as he had spoken, you finally respond, “Kiss me.“
And so he does. 
Josh’s lips descend to yours, capturing you in a kiss that feels both urgent and consuming. His warm hand gently cups your cheek, adding a tender touch to the intensity of the moment. It’s a kiss that feels like an act of hunger as if he’s been starved and you are the only remedy to satiate it.
Your hands find their way to his strong shoulders, instinctively pulling him closer as you reciprocate the kiss. The texture of his lips against yours becomes a tactile language, each brush and press conveying a depth of emotion words might fall short of capturing. You feel his stubble scrape over your skin. The taste of his kiss is a fusion of want and need, a shared desire that resonates between you, eclipsing any reservations that linger in the back of your mind. 
Josh breaks the kiss, and both of you are left breathless. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,“ he confesses, his voice laden with a mixture of desire and relief.
He starts leaving open-mouthed kisses along your jawline, and you laugh quietly in response. “Well, I have an idea,“ you playfully remark and reminisce of when you first met him - you wanted to do that since then. 
“Yeah, tell me,“ Josh smiles, his hand finding its way into your hair, tightening its grip. He is looking directly into your eyes smouldering blue burning into you as he leans down to bite into your bottom lip lightly.
“Josh,“ was all you managed to say in a breathy voice.
His lips move to your jaw, leaving soft kisses and sucking a mark into the soft skin of your neck, letting his teeth nip over the spot before moving on. You let out a moan and dig your fingers into his shoulders, before loosening your hold and roaming his whole back. You feel the strength of his muscles between your hands as well as the heat he emanates. 
Not being able to contain yourself, you are desperate for some skin so you lift up the hem of his shirt and slip your hands under it, feeling his skin. 
With a groan Josh presses his hips into yours, making you feel the hardness of the erection he is sporting. You grind against it as you feel your heart beating fast in your chest.
Josh pulls back, his eyes dark and glinting with arousal. 
He slips his thick fingers under the thin straps of your dress and pulls them over your shoulders, leaving burning pathways in the wake of his touch. At that moment, you’re so glad you decided to wear a dress. And you second that again, when he tucks down the upper part of your dress, exposing your breasts to his nimble fingers and hungry eyes.
Almost instantly his hands find their way to your tits and you groan when he rubs the pad of his thumb over your nipple. 
Josh takes his sweet time exploring you and finding out which sound he can wring from you by just his hands touching your chest. Deliberately, he flicks his forefinger against the hardened bud before capturing it between two fingers, rolling and tugging on it.
His lips skate over your collarbones, nibbling and sucking leaving more marks in his wake. 
Something shortcircuits in your brain when you notice how his hands span over your ribs, making you feel fragile beneath him. And in that moment you want nothing more than for him to just lift you and impale you on him, manipulate you to his liking until the only thing you can remember is his name. 
You hook your fingers in the belt loops of his jeans, pulling his hips against yours, wishing that he wasn’t wearing anything. You feel the hardness of his cock pressed against your belly as you grind down on him. 
When his lips and fingers leave your skin you almost whine at the loss of contact but Josh wraps an arm around your back, pulling you flush against his thick frame before covering your mouth with his own again, possessing you.
He presses one of those strong thighs between your legs, pressing it against your clothed cunt, locking you against the wood of the door again. Without a coherent thought, you moan into his mouth as the rough fabric of his jeans rubs over your wet pussy.
Frantic your hands undo the belt and open his jeans, pushing it down, before tugging on his shirt, desperate for more skin. Josh takes pity on your frazzled attempts and takes off his shirt, pulling it over his head as well as letting his jeans fall to the floor with a quiet thud. 
His skin is damp, a thin sheen of sweat giving it a dewy glow that catches the light of the room. Your eyes trace over him appreciatively, taking in the details that make him undeniably attractive as he just watches you with dark, hooded eyes. 
The rise and fall of his chest, accompanied by a scattering of sparse chest hair, draws your eyes. Your gaze lingers on the muscles that play beneath the softness of his belly. In this moment, you find that he is a perfect harmonious mix between being ripped and soft.
Driven by a need to touch - to feel - him your fingers trace a delicate path across Josh’s chest, shoulders, and belly, exploring the terrain of his skin with a gentle curiosity. 
As your fingertips navigate the expanse of his chest, you feel his breath and breathing heart, a subtle rhythm syncing with the beating of your own heart. The transition to his shoulders unveils the sinewy strength that lies beneath, a testament to the physicality that drew you in. Moving lower, your touch encounters the softness of his belly, tracing the trail of hair that leads into his briefs. 
Without warning you cup his hard cock that’s straining against the fabric of his underwear, making him groan, a deep sound that reverberates through his chest. 
Josh wraps his arms around you, lifting you up as he dips his head to kiss you. He bites your lip, the sharp nip of his teeth making you whimper into his mouth. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your ass as he carries you, prompting you to wrap your legs around his thick middle.
With one fluid movement, he sets you down on the desk, dimly you register the books on the table being swept to the floor. He slots himself between your legs as he tangles his hand in your hair to tilt your head back to force you to meet his gaze.
“If you want to stop - at any point - you tell me,“  Josh’s voice is a quiet, husky murmur, the darkness in his eyes reflecting the pleasure shared between you. His lips, now deliciously pinked from your kisses, hover close.
Wordlessly, you nod. In this moment, he embodies everything you desire and more, a captivating presence that has ensnared your senses. If this is your only chance at tasting him, feeling him, having you - you’ll gladly take it. If not somewhat sad, because you’re sure you will not be able to forget him.
He captures your lips in another short kiss while hitching your dress up higher. Josh’s hand is between your legs now, rubbing one finger over your clothed cunt. You just know that the cotton has to be damp, that he now feels how much you want this - want him.
When he applies more pressure, scraping over your clit you arch your back into his touch. His eyes are on yours, drinking in your every reaction. 
Josh repeats the act and you rake your fingers over his back so hard you’re certain to have marked him. It’s making him moan, low, deep and frantic as if he’s enjoying this as much as you. Your entire skin fizzles with electricity upon his reaction.
In one fluid motion, he seats himself beneath your things and yanks your ass off the edge of the desk. His fingers curl around the waistband of your panties and he pulls them down, off your legs.
Just the sight of Josh between your legs edges you closer to an orgasm. His big hands are wrapped around your thighs, keeping you open for him. If you had to describe the look in his eyes you don’t know if another word than feral was fitting. 
He makes you want to paint him, to capture this moment for eternity, with his messy hair and dark eyes.
Your head falls back and every thought becomes impossible when he presses a featherlight kiss on your clit, the stubble prickling like electricity. You cry out when he draws a circle around it with his wet tongue.
“You need to be quiet, sweetheart,“ he says, voice low, rough and deep. “Wouldn’t want anyone to come in here, right?“
You can’t do much other than nod - you know that you can try but you also surely know that you will fail.  
As soon as Josh presses his palm across your stomach to hold you down and tastes your cunt with a long lick you lose that train of thought again. 
He builds you up with a slow and dexterous tongue, determined to make you cum beneath him. Your back arches off the desk, only held down by his strong arm as you whimper. 
You feel your cunt clenching and you’re sure that you’re staining the desk with your wetness. 
Arousal crashes through your vein and you feel yourself getting closer - and he apparently also does because he hooks his arms around you, to pull you closer to his mouth. 
A curse rolls over your tongue when he sinks two of his thick fingers into your cunt, curling them inside your so you spasm around him.
While you know that your orgasm is drawing closer it still hits you like a freight train. The mixture of his fingers and his mouth on your clit brings you over the edge. 
You cry out and your back arches off the desk, fire pulsing through you. Josh’s mouth is still on you, licking through your wet cunt, catching every drop. You feel like your muscles are locking up and the fire has extended to your lungs as he continues to work you through it. Only when you whimper against him, overstimulated he pulls back. 
Josh’s neck and chin are coated in your wetness, glistening in the light of the room. A blinding smile is etched across his features, reaching his eyes. The pleasure radiating from him is palpable and genuine, he likes how you react to him.
Your fingers instinctively dig into the firm contours of Josh’s shoulders, a desperate longing urging him to rise and meet your lips. In response, his strong arms envelop you, pulling you irresistibly close as your mouths meld together in a fervent kiss. You taste the salty tang of yourself on his tongue. 
His hard cock is pressed against your bare cunt and you grind down on him, making him groan into the kiss. Just from feeling him, you know that he’s big and you ache to get your hands on him.
You reach into his briefs, following the trail of hair. Josh’s cock is thick and twitching in your palm as you smear precum over him to jerk him off easier. 
God, he’s going to split you in half, make you burn from the stretch as he forces you to accept every thick, hot inch of him.
Driven by need you push his underwear over his hips, mesmerizes as you finally see him naked. His dick stands proud and hard in neatly trimmed pubic hair. You wrap your hand around him again, tracing the pulsing vein on the underside of his cock. Josh jerks his hips into your hand and you wet your lips as you clench around nothing. 
It’s almost surreal, the realization that this handsome and gorgeous man is as captivated by you as you are by him and you itch to return the favour and take him into your mouth to see what sounds you can elicit from him.
But when you show signs of slipping from the desk he stops you with a long-fingered hand on your thigh. 
“You can return the favour next time, we have to be quick,“ Josh’s voice is husky and dark as his eyes are on you intently.
Next time? Fuck, yes, you really hope that there will be a next time because you don’t think you can get enough of him.
His arms wrap around you again to claim your mouth before lifting you up from the desk. The dig of his fingers into your skin lingers are you just hope that they will bruise. He walks both of you over to a bed in the room, laying you down on your back.
Josh is a solid form above you, chest heaving as he braces his weight on his elbows. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, before licking a stripe along the length of your pulse.  
The feeling of his weight pressing you into the bed with his bare chest on yours is indescribable. The soft swell of his stomach against yours is heavenly s you claw into his shoulders and back to pull him further on you,
“Fuck me, please,“ your voice wrecked and hoarse as you buck against him, feeling his hard dick press against you.
He pushes his cock against your cunt, nudging your clit with every stroke, just slicking himself with your wetness. 
You whimper when you feel the tip of his broad dick slide into you, keeping it buried inside you, “Josh, please .“
Josh takes pity on you. He leans forwards and his eyes are on yours as he fills you with short and shallow thrusts, inching his cock further and further inside you. Your eyes fall closed at the overwhelming feeling of him in your cunt and he stops again.
Your eyes fly open when his hand finds its way around your throat, wordlessly telling you to keep your gaze locked on him. The slow drag of his dick elicits a high-pitched whine from you.
When his hips are flush against yours, he stills, giving you time to get used to him.
“Just like that…. You’re doing so well,“ his voice is low as he praises you. 
The combination of the barely contained edge in his voice and the praise causes you to clench around him, making Josh groan. You’re drunk off him, off how you feel every ridge, every vein against the wall of your cunt. 
When he pulls back and only leaves the tip inside you again, you whine. That is soon replaced by a loud moan as he slams his whole length into you. 
He feels impossibly deep in your cunt, like he’s carving himself inside with every slap, stroke and thrust of his hips. There is nothing you can do but lay there and take it.
With every thrust, he almost growls into your ear as he possesses you. The slap of his balls against you and the wet squelch of your cunt is loud in the room as he continues to wreck you.
The head of his cock drags over that spot that makes you see stars and you twitch and jerk against him, completely overwhelmed by him. 
You hiss when he reaches between you to press the pad of his thumb against your sensitive clit. He flicks it against it before starting to rub small circles that make you quiver under him and clench around him. 
Josh’s face is the epitome of concentration as he drives his dick inside you again and again, his brow furrowed as he fucks the both of you towards your high. 
You scream when you come. Blinding pleasure shoots through your veins, expanding from inside you and engulfing you. His lips come down to kiss you, capturing you in a feverish and feral kiss. Your teeth click together as he devours you and continues to slam into you. 
With a load groan, he pushes into you as deep as possible, clutching you tightly as his hips jerk and he spills inside you.  
He kisses you, hard and short while he keeps his hips flush with yours as he rocks them, milking himself dry. 
It feels almost soft when he pushes your damp hair from your face and cups your cheek as you catch your breath. The kiss you share is lazy and soft, your hands comb through his hair lightly. You wrap your arms around him tightly, holding him close and savouring the feeling of his body on yours. 
The post-orgasmic bliss disperses suddenly when you feel him soften inside you, his cum leaking onto the bed.
“Shit, Josh,“ panic is evident in your voice, “Get up.“ 
The realisation hits you, that Josh just ruined you in the room of his son  - on his desk and bed. You know that you can’t pretend that this never happened, not when you know how perfect he feels inside you or how he looks when he comes.
His quiet laugh irritates you at first but your eyes flutter closed again when he presses his lips against yours. 
“It will be fine,“ Josh’s blue eyes shine bright as he traces your lips with his thumb, “Let’s get cleaned up first. And then I’d like to take you out for some food.“
“Yeah… yeah,“ you start, a smile on your features, “I’d like that.“
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thereadersmuse · 1 year
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He was eight years old when it started.
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*Also posted on ff.net.
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sthefany16 · 18 days
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Sincere request ❤️
Someone can write a smut about Agent Lynch in The A-Team, where Y/n is arrested by him and wants to seduce him to try to escape from prison (but he's such an asshole) With masturbation(f+m), slapping, hair pulling, hard sex, angry sex, choking, height difference, blowjob, cum swallowing, facial fuck and much more🙏🙏❤️
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frankie-mercury · 2 years
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New Fic Rules/Guidelines
I’ve been gone for a while now - I’ve been lacking inspiration.
But here’s an updated Fic Rules/Guidelines post. I will write angst, fluff and smut (no minor characters - they would have to be aged up at least to 20 but even then not for all characters)
As far as smut goes just about anything goes - this is an 18+ blog so if you are a minor I do not want you reading my works. If you choose to read my works you are doing so are your own risk.
Fandoms I will write for:
Stranger Things: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson (obviously) Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Dustin Henderson (sibling reader), Lucas Sinclair, Mike Wheeler, Will Byers, Johnathon Byers, Joyce Byers, Max Mayfield (older best friend)
The Walking Dead: Rick Grimes, Daryl Dixon
Marvel: Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet Witch, Tony Stark/Iron Man, Steve Rogers/Captain America, Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow, Peter Parker/Spider Man (fluff/angst)
Horror: Ed Warren (The Conjuring), Billy Loomis (Scream), Laurie (Halloween), Richie, Eddie, Beverly, Ben, Stanley etc. (as kids fluff/angst. As adults anything’s game) (It Chapter 1 & 2)
Anime fics are on hold at the moment.
Asks are open and I am still working on my conjuring fic as well as cooking up a Stranger Things/ Mixed! Witch Reader fic.
I’ve been lacking motivation lately but things are coming! I will be following this up with a prompt list as well!
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sisiofthemultifandom · 10 months
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My Massive SHIP LIST
The following is a LONG list of all the ships I enjoy from a moderate to an extreme amount and have probably looked at fanfiction for at some point. Keep in mind this doesn't include every movie and/or show I've ever watched and I may make edits to this at a later time. Godspeed you unfortunate witness.
Agents of SHIELD
Coulson X May
Daisy X Lincoln
Fitz X Simmons
Bobbi X Hunter
Mack X YoYo
Arcane
Caitlyn X Vi
Arrowverse
Oliver X Laurel
Roy X Thea
Diggle X Lyla
Barry X Patty
Wally X Jesse
Caitlin X Ronnie
Kara X Mon-El
Alex X Maggie
Brainy X Nia
Attack on Titan
Eren X Mikasa
Falco X Gabi
Bertdholt X Annie
Ymir X Krista
Levi X Hange
Avatar the Last Airbender/Legend of Korra
Katara X Zuko
Aang X Toph
Sokka X Suki
Aang X Katara
Bolin X Korra
Avengers (MCU)
Steve X Natasha
Tony X Pepper
Thor X Jane
Wanda X Vision
Peter Q X Gamora
Scott X Hope
T’Challa X Nakia
Matt X Karen
Luke X Jessica
Peter P X MJ
Bucky X Sarah
Ben 10
Ben X Julie
Kevin X Gwen
Berserk
Guts X Casca
Bleach
Ichigo X Rukia
Uryu X Orihime
Tatsuki X Orihime
Gin X Rangiku
Toshiro X Momo
Boku no Hero Academia
Izuku X Occhako
Todoroki X Momo
Bakugou X Kirishima
Eraserhead X Present Mic
Castlevania
Trevor X Sypha
Alucard X Greta
Class of the Titans
Jay X Theresa
Atlanta X Archie
Critical Role
Percival X Vex’ahlia
Vax’ildan X Keyleth
Scanlan X Pike
Sylas X Delilah
Fjord X Jester
Beau X Yasha
Caleb X Essek
Imogen X Laudna
DC Comics
Clark X Lois
Bruce X Selina
Diana X Steve
Barry X Iris
Wally X Linda
Hal X Carol
Carter X Shiera
Oliver X Laurel
Arthur X Mera
Constantine X Zatanna
Dick X Barbara
Tim X Stephanie
Garfield X Rachel
Conner X Cassie
Kate X Maggie
Hank X Dawn
Garth Ranzz X Imra Arden
Nura Nal X Thom Kallor
Jo Nah X Tinya Wazzo
Val Armorr X Princess Projectra
Kara Zor-El X Querl Dox
Lar Gand X Tasmia Mallor
Demon Slayer
Tanjiro X Kanao
Zenitsu X Nezuko
Giyu X Shinobu
Digimon
Taichi X Sora
Koushiro X Mimi
Takeru X Hikari
Takato X Jeri
Rika X Ryo
Izumi X Junpei
Disney Animation
Mulan X Shang
Eric X Ariel
Simba X Nala
Tiana X Naveen
Tarzan X Jane
Rapunzel X Eugene
Hercules X Meg
Aladdin X Jasmine
Doctor Who
11 X Clara
Dota - Dragon's Blood
Davion X Mirana
Evangelion
Shinji X Kaworu
Fairy Tail
Natsu X Lucy
Erza X Jellal
Gray X Juvia
Wendy X Romeo
Final Fantasy
Zack X Aerith
Cloud X Tifa
Squall X Rinoa
Tidus X Luna
Lightning X Snow
Noel X Serah
Noctis X Luna
Fire Emblem
Byleth X Dimitri
Fullmetal Alchemist
Ed X Winry
Roy X Riza
Ling X Lan Fan
GI Joe
Snake Eyes X Scarlett
Garo
Kouga X Kaoru
Ryuga X Rian
Raiga X Mayuri
Gatchaman
Ken X Jun
Gundam
Domon X Rain
Shinn X Stella
He-Man (OG Continuity)
Adam X Teela
Adora X Sea-Hawk
Duncan X Sorceress
InuYasha
InuYasha X Kagome
Sango X Miroku
Sesshomaru X Kagura
Kohaku X Rin
Invincible
Mark X Eve
Kamen Rider
Hongo X Ruriko
Godai X Ichijo
Shoichi X Hikawa
Shinji X Miho
Takumi X Mari
Kenzaki X Hajime
Yuuto X Airi
Wataru X Mio
Tsukasa X Natsumi
Shotaro X Tokime
Ryo X Akiko
Eiji X Hina
Gentaro X Nadeshiko
Ryusei X Tomoko
Haruto X Koyomi
Kouta X Mai
Kaitou X Yoko
Shinnosuke X Kiriko
Gou X Reiko
Takeru X Akari
Alain X Kanon
Emu X Poppy
Sento X Banjo
Kazumin X Misora
Gentoku X Sawa
Sougo X Tsukuyomi
Aruto X Izu
Fuwa X Yua
Touma X Kento
Rintaro X Mei
Keiwa X Neon
Kingdom Hearts
Kairi X Sora X Riku
Aqua X Terra
Lea X Isa
Roxas X Xion
Riku X Namine
Lucifer
Lucifer X Chloe
Maze X Eve
Magic Knight Rayearth
Hikaru X Lantis
Umi X Clef
Fu X Ferio
Marvel Comics
Steve X Sharon
Tony X Pepper
Thor X Sif
Hank X Janet
Reed X Sue
Peter X MJ
Wanda X Vision
Jean X Scott
Kitty X Colossus
Rogue X Gambit
Rachel X Kurt
Black Bolt X Medusa
Clint X Bobbi
Bucky X Natasha
Matt X Elektra
Luke X Jessica
Warren X Psylocke
Miraculous Ladybug
Adrien X Marinette
Alya X Nino
Naruto
Naruto X Hinata
Sasuke X Karin
Sakura X Rock Lee
Neji X TenTen
Shikamaru X Temari
Ino X Sai
Choji X Karui
Gaara X Matsuri
Kakashi X Might Guy
Asuna X Kurenai
Tsunade X Dan
Yahiko X Konan
Ouran HighSchool Host Club
Haruhi X Tamaki
Persona
Yu X Rise
Chie X Yukiko
Kanji X Naoto
Ren X Makoto (or Kasumi if we're going with Royal canon)
Power Rangers
Tommy X Katherine
Jason X Trini
Adam X Tanya
TJ X Cassie
Andros X Ashley
Karone X Zhane
Leo X Kendrix
Carter X Dana
Wes X Jen
Cole X Alyssa
Taylor X Eric
Tori X Blake
Trent X Kira
Sky X Z
Doggie X Kat
Nick X Madison
Mack X Rose
Casey X Lily
Dillon X Summer
Ziggy X Dr. K
Kevin X Mia
Mike X Emily
Troy X Gia
Tyler X Shelby
Eddie X Vesper
Marv X Chloe
Amelia X Ollie
Ranma ½
Ranma X Akane
Revolutionary Girl Utena
Utena X Anthy
Rurouni Kenshin
Kenshin X Kaoru
RWBY
Ruby X Penny
Blake X Sun
Weiss X Marrow
Yang X Weiss
Jaune X Pyrrha
Ren X Nora
Qrow X Summer
Sailor Moon
Usagi X Mamoru
Ami X Zoisite
Rei X Jadeite
Minako X Rei
Makoto X Nephrite
Minako X Kunzite
Saint Seiya
Seiya X Shaina
Hyoga X Eri
Shiryu X Shunrei
Shun X June
Ikki X Esmeralda
Deathmask X Aphrodite
Aiolia X Lyfia
Yato X Yuzuriha
Sasha X Tenma
Koga X Yuna
Souma X Sonia
She-Ra (Netflix Version)
Adora X Glimmer
Catra X Scorpia
Star Wars
Obi-Wan X Satine
Anakin X Padme
Ahsoka X Lux
Luke X Mara Jade
Han X Leia
Finn X Rey X Poe
Din Djarin X Bo-Katan
Super Sentai
Ryu X Kaori
Sasuke X Tsuruhime
Chisato X Kouichirou
Shun X Miku
Yuri X Tatsuya
Yosuke X Ikkou
Isshu X Nanami
Mari X Ban
Sen X Umeko
Doggie X Swan
Sakura X Akashi
Masume X Natsuhi
Rio X Mele
Sosuke X Miu
Chiaki X Kotoha
Takeru X Mako
Alata X Eri
Hyde X Moune
Marvelous X Luka
Joe X Ahim
Daigo X Mikoto
Tokatti X Mio
Hikari X Kagura
Yamato X Sela
Amu X Tusk
Lucky X Hammie
Balance X Naga
Keiichiro X Tsukasa
Sakuya X Umika
Koh X Asuna
Bamba X Asuna
Shigeru X Sayo
Tarou X Sonoi
Sword Art Online
Kirito X Asuna
The Dragon Prince
Callum X Rayla
Amaya X Janai
ThunderCats
Lion-O X Cheetara
Bengali X Pumyra
Transformers
Optimus X Elita-One
Arcee X Hot Rod
Bulkhead X Wheeljack
Silverbolt X Blackarachnia
Ultraman
Ken X Mari
Voltron
Shiro X Matt
Keith X Allura
Lance X Pidge
Hunk X Shay
Winx Club
Bloom X Sky
Musa X Riven
Flora X Helia
Stella X Brandon
Tecna X Timmy
Layla X Nabu
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