#Doing this not just for others but for myself

[andragoras-in-vanity]

Hes also a confirmed supporter of every canada based white supremacist group, wanted to outlaw homeless encampments without doing anything to actually treat the cause of them, want to repeal our universal healthcare, and vocally pro-trump.

if you havent voted yet today or in early polls, this HAS to be a strategic vote. meaning, as much as the liberals are nincompoops, theyre SAFE nincompoops. theyre the lesser of two evils and this isnt a provincial election, this is for the big seat, the most power, and the conservatives cannot get that. dont throw away a vote because all the options suck. we saw where the us has ended up. just suck it up and cast the vote thatll protect us going forward and we can continue to work for betterment from there.

and god forbid anyone on here would vote conservative but in case you would just because most of the pc premieres are (performstively) vocally opposed to trump.....its not the premieres that land in the prime ministers seat if they win, its pollievre, who will hand us over with no resistance.

i had an Experience while voting today with a protrumper volunteering at the polls so i havent included the information or words id really like to, but holy fuck this country is a shit show and i dont want to end up like my friends down south who are immigrating here. the provincial election didnt count mail-in ballots or alternative voting methods in parts of Southern ontario and there was no acknowledgment of that, so as a visibly trans person voting in a location infested with pc volunteers (actively tryingto promote their politics btw), im unsettled and not convinced mine or anyone else obviously opposed to pollievre will end up counted.

I know most people don't care about anything unless it has to do with the U.S. but can we please start talking about the Canadian election.

Please don't vote for Poilievre. He's basically the Canadian Trump and plans to put in place laws that harm trans youth, and lots of other shit.

Please vote istg this is the only way anything will get better. Poilievre has been kissing millionaires and billionaires asses. He'll make life even harder, and he loves Trump.

Reblogs are appreciated, especially if you aren't Canadian.

This post is about Canada, do not derail or say that "it's worse in America." Canadians are very scared, we deserve to talk about our issues without Americans talking over us.

[inkskinned]

i keep thinking about how rfk said that autistic people "will never write a poem." i keep thinking about that, about if humanity is calculated on the back of old verse. how far we measure personhood is in baseball and stanza breaks.

i keep thinking - i have over 7k poems on here alone. language can be a special interest, after all. did you know the word autism comes almost direct from the greek word autos, meaning "self"? self-ism.

maybe he is right - i haven't really played baseball. i was a ballet dancer instead. and besides - my sister once accidentally hit me in the face with an aluminum bat. i'm not sure if the injury gives me half points. am i only a person in the dugout? hand in a mitt? swinging?

does softball count? does cricket? am i a person if i throw the ball to my dog. am i a person as long as the ball is in the air, or do i stop being a person as it rolls into the bushes. i took my girlfriend to fenway recently; was i a person in the sun, with my hands up, with the game laid out at my feet in a diamond. i felt like a person, but that was back in the summer, and i often feel my most person-like then.

am i more of a person because of the sheer number of things i've written? does quality matter, or is it quantity? i used to write entire books every summer in high school - i wasn't doing well. i felt the least like-a-person back then. but then - does any person feel human in high school?

in the library, ink on my skin, i feel personhood shutter at the edges of myself. actually, writing feels blissfully like not being myself. it feels birdlike; escaping into creation so my body dissolves and i survive only by muscle memory. i am not there, i am writing.

but who can deny the falconlike focus of warsan shire, the tenderness of mary oliver, the sheer skill of amanda gorman. those are poets. they are certainly human. you could line them up with the way their words have influenced us and measure their literary shadows like wings.

perhaps it was very assumptive of me to want to be a poet rather than "a [ label ] poet." i wanted the work to fill itself in, rather than be stained by what i am. i do not write in despite of my neurodivergence, i am just neurodivergent and writing.

does the poem have to be in english or can i send it through my palms into the coat of my dog. does the poem have to make sense. does the poem have to love you back.

if i break a glass, will the poem appear naturally? or is the act of breaking the glass human-enough. the shards of my life glittering out beneath me - do i have to write the poem, or is it self-evident in the pile of glass splinters? i cannot grasp this world the way other people can. regardless, i endeavor to touch - even the mess - very gently.

i broke my toenail against my coffee table recently. i released a bug outdoors. i made coffee. i walked my dog.

i didn't write a poem about any of these things.

something else, then. existing without humanity.

[elodieunderglass]

Horses are often referred to as prey animals, but what are their natural predators?

Any large grassland predator in the biome, including humans! This is an interesting question, though, because it takes in the axes of time and space. "Wild" horses, the ancestor of domestic horses, are currently extremely rare. The only existing ones in a wild state are Przewalski's horses, also called the Takhi or Mongolian Wild Horses, which live on the Mongolian steppe. Their "natural predators" in that environment would include wolves and snow leopards (which are themselves endangered). However, it isn't an entirely natural setup; they were reintroduced to their native habitat after becoming essentially extinct, through an incredibly complex and fascinating recovery project. In the spacetime pocket in which Earth has wild horses, that's the current state of play: wild horses live in Mongolia and are occasionally eaten by wolves, but are being preserved fiercely for the benefit of humanity.

Meanwhile, we do have things like Dartmoor ponies in England and mustangs in North America and Brumbies in Australia. Dartmoor ponies aren't eaten by anything and are considered feral in the sense that they're domestic animals that live wild, but more or less on purpose, with the moor being treated as a common for keeping ponies on, and the nominal owners can just grab one if they want one at any time. Mustangs are accidental colonists of the American West. They are preyed on by wolves, cougars, and other local large predators, but are not wild. they are feral because they're all descendants of European horses and honestly, if we aren't being sentimental about it, they're invasive.

North America has not had a native population of horses since humans arrived on the continent. The facts are often associated. It is commonly held that humans, upon arriving in America, ate the native horses all up. The typical line goes that "when the first humans populated North America, they were so greedy and invasive that they overhunted most of the local large mammals to extinction". but I personally - and in an unhinged I'm-allowed-to-randomly-hold-ONE-fringe-belief-that-I-Made-up-Myself way - don't like that narrative, and there might be evidence in oral myths indicating that First Nations people at least remembered contact with horses prior to European colonisation. At any rate, there aren't wild horses on that side of the planet any more. The mustang - the most classic "wild horse" in imagination - is not wild, but is currently preyed on by everything that WOULD have eaten the OG native horses of America, minus the large predators that have gone extinct since then (sabre-toothed tigers). Whether mustangs are a nice reintroduction that adds a missing element of Horf to the landscape, or agents of ecological devastation, is kind of up in the air. But they are regularly and routinely preyed upon by the same "natural predators" as the wild cousins would have been, albeit in lower numbers. Take-home message: to visualise how interactions of wild horses with predators and the environment would have looked, mustangs are a very good model.

Going back to the "time" element, human interaction has really decreased a lot of the "natural predators" of horses; they were once preyed on by a larger variety, diversity, and number of animals. In the pocket of spacetime when wild horses were common and had a large range, there also used to be a lot more things like hyenas in Europe and Asia. Here's a diagram showing the "prey animals" and "predators" of Pleistocene Europe. Horses are on the bottom shelf on the far right, at a lower opacity, to show they're "prey animals". You can see that there was a greater diversity of predator types, while today there are usually just Your Local Wolf and Your Local Big Cat.

But this diagram puts "people" as "prey animals" - and humans are traditionally The Natural Predators of horses. Looking at that diagram, you can see that the common, smallish-but-not-too-small herd animal, whose defenses are Having Friends and Being Fast, is a delicious-looking proposition. The spectacular depictions of cave horses in Lascaux are showing our kin, but they're also showing our food.

There is a very important Middle Pleistocene site at a lake in Germany called Schöningen 13II-4, with hominin remains dating back to 300,000 years ago (!!!!!) and it's called the Spear Horizon (for the incredibly well-preserved evidence of spears) but a common nickname is the Horse Butchery Site. One of the most ancient preservations of hominin behaviour, culture, skill, tool-making - their/our priorities, their/our methodology, their/our view of the world - is a narrative of eating horse meat. And the hominins at the Horse Butchery Site did it in a way that seems quite rapacious. Entire family groups of horses, coming to the lake to drink, would be butchered at once: Persistent predators: Zooarchaeological evidence for specialized horse hunting at Schöningen 13II-4 - ScienceDirect It seems like the hominins were killing a lot of horses and not using a lot of the meat, because they wanted fat, and horses don't have much of that.

At any rate, human-shaped people and horse-shaped horses have a very, VERY long history of us eating them. WE are their natural predators. And it makes sense. Humans and Equines are all social animals of relatively small sizes and have interacted with each other for an extremely long time. We have observed them, we know them, we grew up together. For quite a lot of that history, we had a simple relationship; we ate them. Now we much prefer to ride them.

Horses have not entirely forgotten this, but appear to have largely forgiven it.

[rjkooks]

i'm outside, let's talk. (m)

you finally give in and talk to your ex after numerous attempts of him trying to contact you. surely, nothing will go beyond mere communication, right?

. pairing: exbf!jungkook x afab!reader . wc: 1.3k . genre: porn with very little plot, exes to lovers . cw: just two exes that don't know how to be exes lmfao, car sex, penetration, unprotected sex (don't be like them), doggy, dirty talk, dom!jk, sub!reader, creampie, i think that's it lmk if i miss anything!

a/n: heh... long time no see. after two years of hiatus, i thought about posting smth rlly short to ease myself into writing again :) happy reading! feedback is highly appreciated!

jungkook: come down jungkook: im outside jungkook: we need to talk

what more should be there to talk about? scoffing, you dismiss the string of messages your ex sent, proceeding to go back to your previous activity of mindlessly scrolling through tiktok videos.

why should you talk to him? he had a decision — and the decision he ultimately chose was to disrespect your relationship and leave, much like perpendicular lines never to cross again: that’s the only closure you need.

however, jungkook is different.

you think of him as an insect — those annoying ones in particular. once it gets in your abode, it’ll suddenly forget its way out and invade your precious space as if living with you free of charge.

that’s what your ex is.

stubborn, incessant, and most notably, stupid.

so, it’s not much of a surprise when you see his name appear on the banner on top of your phone again, one text being sent after the other.

jungkook: don’t leave me on read jungkook: i’ll climb up ur window if i have to, ___ jungkook: please baby i wanna talk with u jungkook: istg if u block me jungkook: pls dont

you were about to block him actually, if it weren’t for the video that redirected your attention.

“no caption, no hashtag, you were meant to see this! you’re going to get back with your hot ex tonight and i mean it. he’s thinking about you right now and is thinking of ways on how to make up for his mistakes. go get him, girl! get your fine shyt back!”

you swore your eye twitches after watching an absolute stranger predict the next moments of your evening.

with your ex’s unceasing messages and a random video that is severely relevant to your current situation, is the universe really giving you all the telltale signs you need?

as olivia rodrigo said, you probably shouldn't, but seeing him tonight isn’t a bad idea, right?

after deliberately having an internal conflict, you finally made up your mind after careful consideration.

you’re just going to talk. what harm could there be in that?

so, you heave a deep breath before standing up from your bed, your legs bringing you outside the premises of your home to see his black mercedes parked right in front of your lawn.

you stride over to it in quick steps with the intention of holding a brief conversation with him before you bid your final farewells: that’s what you hopefully thought.

assuming he’s inside the vehicle, you tapped on the tinted window a couple of times before you hear his muffled voice, “get in.”

you do as he says, sitting next to him on the passenger seat, and you almost regret it. it was no surprise that it was dim inside, and the air conditioning of his car only made goosebumps prick your skin, and what’s worst of all is the familiar scent of his perfume permeating your senses again.

and that’s when the realization sinks in that you’re actually with your ex boyfriend right now.

you gaze at him silently. thankfully, you couldn’t see his face clearly in the dark, but his features are still there. you part your lips to break the awfully dead silence, yet your voice came out more meek than you’d like.

“you said you wanted to talk..?”

he lowers his gaze to where your hands are placed right on top of your thighs. he knows his presence was suffocating you, so he can’t help the sigh that escapes his lips. “yeah, just wanted to clear some things between us.”

that’s the last thing you remember your ex saying before he has you bent over in the back of his car.

“ngghh… jungkook!” you gasp, a string of drool dribbling from the corner of your lip as you leave a faint handprint of yourself on the fogged window.

“oh, fuck,” he hisses feeling you clench down on his throbbing length. “missed this tight cunt so much,” he groans before landing a harsh spank on your ass, for sure leaving a red mark that will sting for days. “you missed this dick too, baby?” he pants through ragged breaths, and you could sense that damn cocky smirk plastered on his face despite being behind you.

he pulls out another cry from you when you feel his dick kissing your cervix. “y-yes..!” you sob, face buried in the leather seats.

a chuckle full of menace was heard from him as you feel his slender fingers wrap around the roots of your hair, forcefully tugging you until you’re eye-level with the window.

he rips sob after sob out of you, undoubtedly aroused from how your gummy walls were sucking him in so eagerly, a creamy ring of white making a mess out of his length.

“bet you couldn’t find someone who can fuck you like i do, huh?” he huffs against your ear, voice hot and heavy as a tattooed finger presses itself against your clit. “that’s why your slutty little cunt is making such a mess on my cock, right?”

you mewl, resting your head against his shoulder as you nod eagerly. your bottom lip was trapped between your teeth, rendering you speechless from the way he’s perfectly molding the shape of his cock in your pussy right now.

seeing you like this—all hot and vulnerable beneath him, he couldn’t hold in the cocky grin on his face, his ego inflating to a size larger than the earth itself.

he lands a particularly harsh slap against your ass, making you yelp in pain before you fall face flat on the leather seats again.

and when he sets his pace to that of raw, primal need, you begin to tremble, sensing as if your legs are about to give in on you any moment.

“j-jungkook—hah… too much,” you whine, feeling your impending orgasm approaching rapidly.

“cum with me, baby,” he pants, pressing his solid chest against your back, leaving you no room for any escape.

the way the tip of his leaking cock kept kissing your soft spongy spot has you seeing stars. his car became way too humid from how long he’s been fucking you, and you could care less whether the car could be seen rocking back and forth in the middle of the neighborhood, or whether or not the obscene noises you and jungkook were making could be heard a block away.

“please… wanna cum s’bad!” your words come out slurred, brain turning into complete mush devoid of any thoughts aside from cumming.

“awww, my baby wants to cum?” he coos sweetly against your ear, turning absolutely feral seeing you all submissive for him, sobbing as you beg for some sort of mercy from him.

and of course he’s going to give it to you.

he feels your walls hugging him for dear life, as if never wanting him to pull out, and he swears he could die a happy man like this right now.

“go on, baby, let go. i got you,” he whispers hotly before swiping your clit three more times, giving you the most delicious orgasm you haven’t tasted in months.

you tremble violently beneath him, a long whine escaping you as he fucks you through it, soon cumming right after you did.

he groans, flooding your hole with his warm cum before finally pulling out a minute later.

exhausted, he plops himself right next to you, and neither of you have spoken for a few minutes, merely the sound of your mingling breaths could be heard in his dark mercedes.

however, when you look into his eyes, you can see the change of look from lust to determination. you notice him hesitating for a bit, and before you could ask your ex what’s wrong, he swiftly cuts you to the chase.

“give me one more chance, baby.”

[everlastingserenitys]

POSIONOUS LOVEE

summ. oh no! the flower must’ve been infused with something else! now you both had to deal with each other.

featuring (separate). zayne, caleb cw. sex pollen, p in v, creampie, very needy men, some grammatical issues, kissing, NOT BASED OFF THE TRAILER!!!!, fingering, rocking chair oral sex (zayne), oral (f receiving from zayne), cunnilingus, public sex (caleb), 2k wc a/n. don’t mind my horny ass writing these 2 I'm sorry for no xav, raf, and sylus (thats for another time hehe) also the flowers have no significant meaning to them…totally

ZAYNE - JASMINE ݁˖ ❀ ⋆

"does it smell good?" zayne whispered, dangling the jasmine between both of your faces, the petals tickling against your nose for the second time already. you took another whiff, taking in the scent like it was your first time smelling it.

well, thats what it felt like. because this jasmine didn't smell like any usual jasmine zayne would give you.

you nodded and tried to lean in for more, but zayne pulled the flower back, placing it against his nose. you watched as he took a deep breath, letting the sweet aroma rush through him.

and suddenly, in a quick second, his eyes twisted from that dull look to something brighter, a glint of something you just couldn't tell what it was.

you bob your legs up and down and watch zayne's every move, your heart starts to thump louder and louder, the air in the room suddenly feels suffocating, your body is burning up.

god, what was in that flower?

you eyes darted from zayne's shaky look, to the flower still dangling around his fingers. he was feeling the same way too, and now since you both were on the same boat, you had to fix each other somehow.

before you could say anything, zayne got up from his seat and stumbled towards you, caging you with his arms as he stared down at you with a lustful look.

"I dont know what was in that flower, I swore I bought it off a safe si-"

you couldn't handle his voice anymore. your fingers slid against the collar of his shirt and you pulled him close to you, just being mere inches away from each other, his hot breath tickled against your skin and you looked up at him one more time before crashing your lips on his.

"I don't know what it was either," you mumble between kisses, pulling away and catching your breath to look at zayne's hungry stare.

"but it feels so good."

that caused a reaction out of zayne, cause the next thing you knew, you were getting pressed down against the chair, hard. the back of your shirt raising up as zayne slightly lifted you up on the chair.

the impact of the rocking chair was sending you into a spiral. your head kept hitting the back as the chair shook faster and faster. zayne's body weight pressed against you, and the rough leather of the chair scratched your back, you were too much in a daze to even process that zayne's lips already found its way to your neck.

he planted rough, desperate kisses along your neck, lightly nibbling on the skin, his breath was getting ragged, more louder, all you could do was slide your fingers around his neck and pull him closer than you could.

his warm skin made contact with yours and zayne pulled his head back to look up at you, desperation filled his eyes. you trace his jaw and lower your finger further down, staggering it finger against his adams apple.

a shaky breath escaped his lips and zaynes fingers grabbed onto your waist, toying with the waistband of your pants which were already slipping off.

“i’d never let myself near these types of things…” he mumbled, staring at your bare legs on display for him.

“i didn’t think it’d feel like this.” he said in a shaky voice, eyes rolling back at the impact of the aroma still lingering through your bodies, you can’t help but tilt your head back, bucking your hips forward.

zayne inched closer, his nose just lingering on your twitchy clit through your panties, he nuzzled his head deeper between your thighs and glanced up at you before darting his tongue on the wet lace.

you hold back a moan and watched as he practically was sucking out every juice out of you. his fingers—that had been caressing your sides the whole time, slid under your panties and he swiftly removed them.

his hands cup your knees and he slowly spreads your legs apart, taking his time with you like the day would last forever.

“d-do you know how long it—ngh?!”

zaynes tongue made its way back to your leaking cunt, he shoved himself deeper inside you, curling his tongue inside you, trying to hit every right spot.

“hey!” you moan, instinctively thrusting your hips deeper against him, causing the rocking chair to do more than just one thrust.

“hmm?” a groggily hum escaped zaynes lips as he continued his work on you, the drug had completely changed him and you, and fuck it felt like too much.

“zayne ‘m gonna-”

your chants filled the room and zayne kept his grip on your thighs, purposely ignoring every plea that’s escaping your lips, continuing to work his tongue against your already sensitive folds.

you slid your fingers through his hair and gripped on it like there was no tomorrow, a shaky moan left zaynes lips and you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“ah- sorry!” you mumble, lifting his head up to watch for his reaction but his face was the exact same. flushed, and his eyes were still filled with that glint of desire.

“it’s not often i ask this but…”

“hm?”

he let out a sigh and slid his fingers further down your legs, “more? i need it.”

CALEB - BLUE LOTUS ݁˖ ❀ ⋆

“it’s not often we go flower picking, pips.” caleb said, his voice laced with enthusiasm as he walked through the grassy meadows, hands brushing along every long stem that poked out the grass.

“yeaaahh, we’re totally going to find flowers in an area like this..” you say in a low voice, looking at the scenery around you.

there was nothing but grass, maybe a few flowers here and there but it just felt so empty, too empty to even find a decent flower around.

“c’mon have some hope, will ya?” caleb chuckled, grabbing onto your wrist as he started to jog along the path.

“wh- caleb!” you giggle as your legs quicken at the pace he was going at, and too caleb was just aimlessly running along the field.

a few minutes passed and the two of you got tired, neither of you had an idea where you were but the sounds of birds chirping nearby, and the smell of water nearby made you get an idea.

“this way caleb,” you point to a hidden path, covered by the grass and caleb’s gaze follows the direction where your finger was pointed.

he nodded and dragged you through the path. eventually, after walking for a bit you ended up at a beautiful pond, birds flying everywhere and this, this was where you could find nice flowers.

“caleb the pond has pretty flowers!” you walk over to the glistening area of water and sit along the edges, toying with the grass sticking out the water.

“pretty, right?” he said, picking up a flower from the pond and swirling it around his fingers, a small smirk rested on his lips before he pressed the flower against your nose, sifting it left and right.

the petals tickled your nose, you leaned in closer taking a quick smell of it…and it smelt sweet.

too sweet.

in a quick second, your mood changed, it was like you needed more. you lunged at the flower again and took a deep breath, letting the sweet pheromones rush through your body again.

“pips..?” caleb asked, a hint of amusement and curiosity filled his voice, he pulled the flower away from you and rested it against his nose, taking in the smell of the intoxicating flower.

“smells good..” he mumbled, taking more of the scent as he stared into your dazed eyes. you nod and lean in closer, both your lips being centimeters away from each other, it’s just the flower that was in the way.

you look at the flower and back at caleb whose eyes are locked on you. you rested your fingers on his hand that was holding onto the flower and subtly grazed your fingers along his hand, and soon, pushed the flower away.

the second the flower fell on the ground, caleb grabbed onto your face with fierce force and crashed his lips on yours, his tongue darting at the small open space between your lips.

he was devouring you.

devouring you like a fucking animal.

you didn’t realize that you both were on the ground, caleb’s hand rested on the back of your head as he continued pressing himself against you.

“what is this pipsqueak?” he mumbled, sliding his free hand along the curves of your body, soon making its way to the waistband of your pants, lightly tugging at it.

you let out a low hum and grab the flower, twirling it between your fingers as you stared at caleb who was already removing your pants, he was practically ripping them off like it was something he strived for survival.

once your lower half was exposed to Caleb, he slid a finger against your twitchy clit, rubbing and pressing on it, a wave of pleasure washed through you as you slightly lifted your hips, silently begging for more.

whatever it was doing this to you, felt too good, way too good. his fingers felt like it was the first time he's doing this to you. after a bit, Caleb pulled his fingers out, watching the mess drip down on the grass and on his fingers.

he lifted your legs above his shoulders and pressed himself against you. the rough fabric of his pants made contact with your exposed, leaking pussy and a spark of shock went through you.

Caleb continued to dry hump himself against you, to get the tension up but his hands were rejecting him to stay put, he slid a hand off your ankles and placed them on his belt, removing his pants in a quick movement.

"it feels good pipsqueak..." he mumbled, pulling out his cock and pressing his leaking tip against your stretched out cunt. you whine in response and Caleb pushed himself deep inside you without warning you.

"so good, it feels–ngh so, soo good"

whines and moans echoed through the secluded forest, there was no audience around but it felt like anyone could walk in by now. you nod repeatedly thrusting yourself deeper inside him, not caring that you're outside, the butterflies in your stomach started to beat faster and faster.

"gonna come..." Caleb groaned, grabbing onto your ankles tighter, as he thrusted himself deeper. the feeling of you getting filled up by him felt too good, he continued to fuck in your leaking pussy, drooling with his cum which was seeping out of you each thrust he gave.

Caleb grabbed onto the flower which was resting on your chest and gave it a quick smell, again. he then took his other hand off your leg and plucked each petal one by one, scattering it all over your body.

"im close ca-" before you could finish your sentence you felt his soft lips make contact with yours, except something was in the way. you winked open an eye and noticed the plucked out flower resting between the two of your lips.

"let it out..." he whispered between kisses, wrapping his hands around your neck as he pulled you closer than ever, letting you savour every second of this unexpected desire.

a/n. so sorry you could tell who the favorite was, I will practice on my zayne smut later

[soulsnatcha3000]

Let Me In

Remmick x black!fem oc

Summary: The summer night clings thick around Lenora as she hovers at the screen door, drawn to the danger waiting outside. Remmick stands in the dark, all wicked smiles and promises she shouldn’t want. Her family sleeps just feet away, but he leans closer, voice low and sinful, tempting you to break. She knows better, but her body betrays her— and Remmick, all patience gone, is ready to beg for the privilege of ruining her.

Warnings: cunnilings, unprotected sex, oral sex (fem receiving), BACKSHOTTTTTS, JUST STRAIGHT FLITHY, he’s MEAN

a/n: had to edit some stuff! sorry for the wait! Hope yall enjoy reading this🫶🏾

dw no drool is mentioned

The screen door sighed.

The porch was bathed in soft, silvered dark, the fields humming with crickets and hidden things. The air hung thick, tasting of dust and something sweeter underneath. Behind me, my family slept on, but i stood frozen at the door.

Waiting.

Remmick leaned against a porch post, lazy in the low light, shirt sleeves rolled, collar loose, like temptation carved into human shape. His eyes found me — slow, deliberate — and he smiled like he had all the time in the world.

“Well, look at you,” he murmured.

I gripped the doorframe tighter, nightgown clinging to your skin in the heat.

“You ain’t supposed to be here,” i said, barely above a whisper.

“And yet,” he drawled, tipping his head, “you keep waitin’ for me.”

The screen door bowed as he brushed it with his knuckles, light as a prayer.

“Open up, pretty thing,” he coaxed. “Let’s not pretend either of us got the will to walk away.”

I stayed silent, the air between you thick with all the things neither of you would say.

He leaned in slow, until the world narrowed to the press of his voice against the thrum of my blood.

“I could wait all night,” he whispered. “But you’re the one shakin’, baby.”

My fingers curled tighter into the frame, splinters biting my skin. Every instinct screamed to shut the door, to bolt it tight — but my body, my blood, told a different story.

I leaned in, so close now that the screen barely mattered, so close i could feel his hunger vibrating in the air between you.

“You don’t know what you’re askin’,” i whispered, the words shaking as they left me.

Remmick’s mouth tilted into a half-smile, nothing kind about it. “I know exactly what I’m askin’,” he said, voice fraying at the edges. “And you know exactly what you’d give me.”

Slow, deliberate, he dragged his fingertips down the mesh — a rasping sound that made me shudder harder than if he’d touched my bare skin. He watched me, saw the way i pressed my thighs together like i could hold back the flood.

He nodded to my thighs. “You..and those pretty legs of yours…damn sugar I’m getting desperate out here.” He groaned softly.

“You keep pressin them together… do you not realize how crazy you doing that makes me? Thinking about them… wrapped around my waist.. or on my shoulders. Hell even buried in between them.”

I turned away quickly, exhaling shakily, heart pounding against my ribs. He was making this so damn hard.

“I know you think about it too,” he said, voice dropping to something dangerous and hypnotic. “How good it’ll feel… my cock buried so deep inside you wont even be able to think straight.”

“All the different ways I could have you…” he continued, eyes raking over me. “The way my mouth would make you come… again and again… tasting every drop of you.”

I whimpered before I could stop myself, slamming the door shut right in his face, heart racing like I’d just run a marathon.

On the other side, I heard him chuckle — deep, rough, absolutely unbothered.

“I know you’re soaking right now, darlin’,” he said, voice muffled but still dripping with that maddening confidence. “Could smell you from out here. Fuck… just let me in.”

“Go away.” I said as my voice cracked and I could hear him sigh.

“I’ll be back tomorrow night…every night. Until you let me have you.” And as he said that I heard his boots going down the porch steps I let out a sigh turning, as I begin to walk away from the door.

“Nora?” I jumped as I heard the voice of my mother.

“H-hey momma, Whatchu doing up?” I calmed my voice, the conversation I had with remmick still in my head.

“I should be asking you the same thing, you was talking to someone?” She yawned.

“No, just thought I heard something outside and checked real quick. It’s um, it’s nothing there.” I chuckled nervously nodding.

She looked at me suspiciously and then nodded slowly. “Uh huh alright..well at least get some sleep. We gotta open up the shop early.”

I nodded. “Yes ma’am. Good night, I love you.” I smiled softly.

“Love you too honey, night.” She blew a kiss turning the lamp off going back to my father and hers bedroom.

I groaned turning around back to my room. “I need my own damn place.” I closed my door softly, careful not to wake anyone. And got in my bed twisting and turning before falling asleep.

———

The morning sun cut through the kitchen window in soft gold stripes, warming the worn wooden table where she sat peeling potatoes.

My hands worked automatically — knife in one hand, potato in the other — but my mind was somewhere else entirely.

I’ll be back every night… until you let me have you.

His voice still echoed in my head, low and sinful, curling around my thoughts no matter how hard I tried to focus on the day ahead.

“Mornin’, sleepyhead.”

My older brother, Eli, sauntered in, ruffling my hair as he grabbed a biscuit from the tin.

“You were tossing and turning all night. Bad dreams?”

I forced a laugh, nudging him with my elbow.

“Somethin’ like that.”

If only he knew.

Their mother bustled in next, apron already tied, sleeves rolled to her elbows.

“Eat quick,” she said, pushing a plate of eggs toward her. “We open the store in twenty minutes. And don’t let that Mr. Hargrove short you again — I saw him trying to sneak two loaves for the price of one last week.”

“Yes, ma’am,” i said, slipping into the rhythm of it — the comfort of normalcy.

But when i stepped out into the bright morning and crossed the dusty road to the little general store their family owned, a shiver still danced down her spine.

I could almost feel him out there — somewhere beyond the neat rows of houses and the muddy street, hidden in the woods, in the shadows.

Watching.

Waiting.

————

“Let’s get to work.” James said.

“Got a shipment comin’ in later,” he added on, straightening up with a grunt. “Pa said we gotta restock the sugar and soap.”

“Alright,” I said, tying my apron tighter.

My younger brother James was already stacking crates near the counter, whistling tunelessly.

———

The morning rush had slowed, and I leaned against the counter, dusting flour that I had dropped off my apron.

My younger brother James was sweeping in the corner, and Eli was restocking canned peaches.

I sighed quietly, half to myself.

“Lord, I can’t wait till I have a place of my own someday. Just a little house… no brothers banging around. No early mornings unless I want ‘em.”

James snickered, twirling the broom like a bat.

“Yeah right. You’d miss us in two days.”

I rolled my eyes, but before I could fire back, the door to the storeroom creaked open.

My father stepped out, wiping his hands on a rag, his work shirt stained from unloading crates.

He scratched his jaw, giving me a look that was part serious, part something else she couldn’t read yet.

“You want your own place that bad, sweetheart?” he asked, voice low and knowing.

I blinked, caught off guard.

“Well… I mean, one day, sure. Ain’t in a rush.”

He nodded, tossing the rag onto the counter.

“Good thing, then,” he said with a small smile. “Cause I got you one.”

I straightened up, heart thudding.

“What?”

“Little place down on Willow Lane,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Old Mrs. Cartwright’s place — she moved in with her daughter outta town. Rent’s cheap, real cheap. Fixed it up some. Even put in some new furniture — nothin’ fancy, but it’ll do.”

I stared at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“You serious?”

“I-how did you-.” I was speechless.

He chuckled. “Heard you mumbling to yourself about it last week. And Course I’m serious. You’re grown, sugar. You deserve a space that’s yours. Key’s in my coat pocket if you wanna go see it after supper.”

James dropped the broom with a loud clatter.

“You’re really lettin’ her move out? Just like that?”

My father shrugged.

“She’s twenty-two. Good head on her shoulders. ’Sides, she’s only two streets over. She ain’t runnin’ off to New York.”

Behind her, James let out a squawk and dropped the broom with a loud clatter.

Eli crossed his arms, mock-scowling.

“Hold on now — what about us?” he said, jerking a thumb between himself and James. “When we wanna have the missies over, if you know what I mean?”

James smirked, elbowing him.

“Yeah! No more sneakin’ ‘em past Ma if she’s gone!”

Their father shot them both a hard look that could’ve split stone.

“You bringin’ any missies over while you still live under my roof, you’ll be sleepin’ in the barn. With the hogs.”

The store went dead silent for a beat.

Then James coughed and bent real quick to pick up the broom.

“Just kiddin’, Pa.”

Eli mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “worth askin’ anyway” under his breath.

My heart was beating so hard I thought it might shake me right out of my shoes.

A home.

My own home.

“Thank you, Daddy,” I whispered, throat thick with emotion.

He winked at me and headed back into the storeroom without another word, leaving me standing there stunned, my brothers bickering behind her.

Somewhere deep down, a flicker of fear stirred — because I knew:

When night fell and he came back for me…

I wouldn’t have a house full of family around anymore.

I would be alone.

And I wasn’t sure if that made me scared — or excited.

————

The afternoon sun dipped low, painting long shadows across the store floor.

I wiped my hands clean on a rag, satisfied. Shelves stocked. Counters wiped down. Ledgers tallied. Another day’s work done.

My brothers, as usual, lounged behind the counter, tossing an apple back and forth like it was honest work.

I smirked, tossing the rag aside.

“You two sure work hard,” I drawled, hands on my hips.

James caught the apple with a grin.

“Hey, gotta save our strength for tomorrow.”

“Right,” I said dryly.

Then I spotted my father’s heavy coat hanging near the storeroom.

Heart skipping, i sauntered over and slipped my hand into the front pocket, feeling around until my fingers closed over cool metal.

The key.

I fished it out, holding it up between two fingers like a prize.

It glinted in the fading light.

James and Eli froze mid-apple toss.

“Look what I got,” i said sweetly, twirling the key on its ring.

James groaned dramatically.

“There she goes, big boss already.”

Eli slouched against the counter, face twisted in mock betrayal.

“Don’t forget about us when you’re sittin’ on your fancy porch, drinkin’ lemonade.”

I slipped the key into my skirt pocket with a grin.

“I’ll think of y’all when I’m not hearin’ your big mouths every morning.”

As i headed for the door, Eli suddenly straightened, pointing an accusing finger at me.

“You ever think maybe she just wants her own place so she can be fresh?” he said loudly, looking straight at their father. “You think about that, Pa?”

I stopped dead in my tracks, scandal flashing in my eyes.

“Me fresh?” I scoffed, spinning around with my hand on her hip. “You and that little girlfriend of yours are the fresh ones, Eli! Don’t get me started!”

James howled with laughter, practically collapsing against the counter.

I snapped my gaze to him, narrowing my eyes.

“Oh, you wanna laugh now too, James?” I said sweetly — too sweetly. “I could tell Ma and Daddy exactly what I heard last week.”

James smirked, tossing the apple in the air again.

“Feeding the cows,” he said cockily.

I lifted my chin, deadpan.

“More like feeding something else.”

James’ smirk dropped clean off his face.

His cheeks burned red as he grabbed the nearest thing — a throw pillow off the bench behind him — and hurled it at me.

I dodged it easily, laughing as it thumped harmlessly against the doorframe behind me.

Eli howled with laughter, almost falling over.

Their father just shook his head with a sigh.

“Lord, give me strength,” he muttered, walking back into the storeroom.

I grinned, blowing a kiss at my brothers before grabbing my bag.

“Y’all have a good night now!” I sang as she slipped out the door, the key jangling in my pocket.

————

The door swung shut behind me, the bell jingling softly.

Inside, James and Eli stood frozen, still scowling after her.

James finally muttered, “She better not bring no trouble to that new place.”

Eli snorted.

“Yeah, she actin’ all innocent… watch, she gonna have some slick-talker sneakin’ in through the window first night.”

Before either of them could blink, their father appeared from the back, wiping his hands on a rag.

Whap!

He smacked the back of James’ head with a heavy hand, then Eli’s a second later — hard enough to make them both stumble forward.

“Ow!” James yelped, rubbing the back of his skull.

“What was that for?!” Eli complained, ducking away.

Their father narrowed his eyes at both of them.

“Worry about your own trouble before you run your mouths ‘bout hers,” he said firmly. “And don’t let me catch you bringin’ no fast girls ‘round here neither.”

James and Eli muttered sheepish yes, sirs under their breath, suddenly real interested in counting apples on the counter.

————

Their father just shook his head again and walked off, grumbling under his breath.

“Should’ve bought myself a second barn to lock all of you kids away,” he muttered, clearly fed up.

“And Eli!” he called over his shoulder, not even looking back. “Get your own damn place! You’re 25!”

James snickered loudly, grinning wide.

“Might as well just sleep in the barn, huh?” he teased, elbowing his older brother.

Eli shot him a sharp glare, and punched James’s arm.

“Shut up, James,” Eli snapped, though the bite in his voice was fading.

James rubbed his arm with exaggerated pain, wincing dramatically.

“Ouch! See, that’s why Pops got Nora a place and not you. At least she does her part. While you’re off sneaking around, swapping spit with—” he paused, raising an eyebrow “—who knows what girl this time.”

Eli’s face flushed a deep red, his fists clenching at his sides. His body tensed as if he were about to explode.

“None of your business!” he growled, his voice tight with fury.

Before James could even react, Eli practically launched himself over the counter, his legs swinging as he tried to grab James by the collar.

James yelped, diving out of the way just in time. He dashed across the store, laughing and shouting over his shoulder,

“Too slow, Eli!”

Eli chased after him, his face twisted in frustration and embarrassment, but James was already a few steps ahead, running for his life.

Their father, still in the back, barely glanced up but muttered under his breath,

“Good Lord, not again…”

⸻

The sun had dipped low by the time i reached my new house, a small, neat little thing tucked at the edge of town. The fresh paint on the porch still smelled sharp in the warm evening air.

I stood for a second at the bottom of the steps, clutching the key in my hand, feeling a little knot of nerves and excitement twist in my stomach.

It wasn’t much — a plain wood house with a crooked chimney and a creaky screen door — but it was mines.

I grinned to herself, slipping the key into the lock. It stuck for a second, and i had to jiggle it, but then it gave way with a satisfying click.

The door swung open with a soft groan, and i stepped inside.

The furniture was brand new — well, new enough. A simple table with two mismatched chairs, a sturdy bed tucked into the back room, a little worn couch sitting by the window. It wasn’t fancy, but it was clean. And it smelled like wood and fresh linen.

I dropped my bag by the door, turning in a slow circle, taking it all in.

A slow, proud smile pulled at my lips.

“Finally,” I whispered to myself. “A place of my own.”

As I pulled open a window to let the evening breeze in, I swore I felt it — a tingle at the back of her neck. Like I was being watched.

I couldn’t help but shiver a little.

Brushing it off, I shook my head and went back inside.

⸻

I smiled to myself, still glowing with excitement, and wandered toward the little closet in the corner of the bedroom.

Just as I reached for the door, the old rotary phone on the kitchen wall started ringing, the sharp sound making me jump a little.

I hurried over and picked it up, pressing the receiver to my ear.

“Hello?”

My best friend’s voice came bursting through, full of excitement.

“Girl! Are you at your new place yet?!”

I laughed, my nerves instantly easing.

“Yeah, just walked in not too long ago.”

“Good, good,” my friend said, a grin practically heard through the line. “Now, go look in your closet!”

I blinked, confused.

“My closet?”

“Yes, your closet! Go on, I tucked something away for you earlier — and you better not chicken out neither!”

Shaking my head but smiling wide, I cradled the phone between my ear and shoulder and padded back across the room. I pulled open the closet door and knelt down, spotting a box I hadn’t noticed before tucked neatly into the corner.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” I said into the receiver, laughing under my breath.

“I know!” My friend said, giggling. “Now open it!”

I set the phone down just long enough to lift the lid. Right on top was a folded piece of paper, my best friend’s messy scrawl across it:

“In case you ever decide you wanna let go of that goody two-shoes thing.”

I shook my head, grinning as I pulled back the tissue paper to reveal a deep burgundy nightgown — soft, delicate, and daring.

I gasped softly, my cheeks warming instantly.

“Delphine!” I called into the phone as she picked it back up.

My best friend just laughed.

“You’ll thank me later! Especially when a certain someone comes knockin’!”

I rolled her eyes, but deep down, I felt a little thrill shoot through me. Maybe I would try it on later — just… to see how it felt.

⸻

After the long day at the store and moving into my new place, I wasted no time.

I gathered a fresh towel, my new nightgown, and slipped into the little bathroom tucked off the side of the bedroom.

The water pressure wasn’t much to brag about, but it was warm, and it soothed the lingering ache in my muscles.

I lathered up with my favorite soap — a soft, rich scent of amber, fresh gardenia, and a kiss of vanilla wrapping around me. It was comforting, familiar, a scent that always made me feel like myself. Clean, sweet, a little bold when you got close enough to notice.

When I finished, I stepped out into the steamy little room, toweling off and slipping into the deep burgundy nightgown my best friend had left for me. It slid over my skin like a whisper, cool and soft, clinging in just the right places.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and blushed — I’d never worn anything so… bold before.

Still, part of me liked it.

I padded barefoot back into my room, the hardwood floors cool under her toes. I was smoothing down the nightgown when i heard it — a faint tapping at her window.

Heart racing, I turned — and there he was.

Leaning against the frame, his arms braced casually, a cocky grin playing on his lips.

The soft red glow in his eyes flickered as he took her in, top to bottom, like he was drinking me in.

A low, appreciative whistle escaped him.

My stomach flipped.

Without thinking, i gave the barest tilt of my head — a small, daring motion — and murmured,

“Come in.”

⸻

The air in the little house felt heavier with him in it — like the walls themselves knew trouble had just stepped across the threshold.

I backed up slowly, my bare feet brushing the worn floorboards as he followed, eyes glowing low and red, like embers that hadn’t yet gone cold.

I reached the bed first, the hem of my silk nightgown swaying with the movement. His gaze dropped, slow and unapologetic.

“All this for me, huh?” he drawled, voice low and teasing, a rough edge in it that made my knees wobble.

I smirked, cocking my head as i rested one hand on my hip. “Maybe,” i said, coy and even. “You still think I’m sweet?”

He chuckled under his breath, stepping closer. “Sweet?” he murmured, reaching for my hand, pulling her gently toward him. “Darlin’, I think you’re somethin’ else entirely.”

He caught my chin between his fingers, tilting my face up. His thumb brushed along my jaw, his eyes locked on mines like he could see straight through the teasing.

Then he leaned down — not rushed, not hungry just yet — and kissed me. Deep and slow. Like a promise.

My fingers curled in his shirt. My breath hitched, lips parting to meet his again before I pulled back just enough to whisper:

“What happened to all that talk the other night?”

He laughed low, foreheads pressed together.

“Talk’s easy when I’m standin’ behind glass, baby,” he murmured. “But now I got you right here in my hands…” His voice dipped, dragging heat straight down her spine. “Ain’t no talkin’ necessary.”

His hands moved — slow — fingers sliding down my back, palms memorizing every dip of my body like he’d been dreaming about it for a hundred years.

I rested my forehead rest against his chest, heart pounding. The scent of him — something like smoke and pine and danger — filled my nose, made me dizzy.

And he just held me there for a moment. Like he needed to remember this. The weight of me. The warmth.

“I ain’t in no rush,” he said finally, lips brushing my temple. “You open that door… I come through it on your time. You say stop, I stop. But if you don’t—”

He leaned back, just enough to meet my eyes again, voice gone hoarse:

“I’ma ruin you slow, Lenora.”

That was the promise.

I looked up at him biting my lip gently. “So ruin me.”

I looked up at him through my lashes, my voice low but steady. “I’m not stoppin’ you.”

He grinned at that, slow and dangerous, like a man who had all the time in the world to ruin me.

He tugged my closer, the weight of him pressing against my body. His lips brushed against my neck, soft at first, like he was testing, tasting, savoring the way I shivered under him.

My fingers found the button of his pants — clumsy at first, then deliberate as i undid them.

“Not so quick now,” he whispered, his voice rough against my skin. “Let me have the honor of undressin’ you. I been waitin’ long enough.”

I nodded, swallowing down the knot in my throat, my hands falling to my sides as he stepped back.

His eyes never left mines as he undid the clasp of my nightgown, the silk slipping down my body like water — teasingly slow, revealing every curve, every inch of me. When the gown pooled at my feet, i was left in nothing but my skin and the heat that lingered in the air.

He stepped forward again, hands sliding over my shoulders, down my arms, as he pulled me flush against him. The contact sent a jolt straight to my core.

“You’re perfect,” he muttered, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Perfect for me.”

My hands slid up his chest unbuttoning his shirt down to the last button, finding the warm skin of his torso, feeling the muscles tense under my touch. I let out a soft, shaky breath, my fingers moving to the waistband of his pants, slipping them lower without hesitation.

My pulse was pounding in my ears, my skin humming with the anticipation, with the feeling of his eyes on me, burning and predatory.

“Don’t keep me waitin’, darlin’,” he growled low, voice a raw rasp. “You know what I want.”

His shirt was already half undone, and when i reached up and slid it off his shoulders, he let it fall — didn’t even flinch — just watched me with that slow, wicked grin.

I shoved at his chest, pushing him to sit down on the bed — then climbed into his lap, straddling him.

For a second, he let her think she was in charge.

Let her grab his jaw, kiss him hard, grind against the thick bulge in his pants.

But when she started fumbling with his belt, he grabbed her hips hard, fingers digging into her skin.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” he muttered, voice rough with need. “Ain’t no rush… ’sides, I got plans for you first.”

Without warning, he flipped me — He laid me back on the mattress, my soft coils tumbling wild around my face, catching the low light like a crown.

I barely had time to gasp before he yanked my thighs open and dropped between them like a man possessed.

“Gonna taste you first,” he muttered, breath hot against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. “Been thinkin’ ’bout this mouthful for days.”

And then he ate me out like he was starving.

No slow teasing. No soft warm-up.

He buried his mouth between my legs and devoured me — messy, wet, deep — until i was squirming and gasping and grabbing fistfuls of the sheets.

When i cried out — high and broken — he just groaned against me, his tongue flicking ruthless, making sure i couldn’t run, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

My mouth agape as my back arched. “O-oh shit.” I whimpered.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he growled against me, mouth slick and filthy. “Give it to me. Give me all that sweet little pussy.”

He caressed my thighs as he continued to devour me with such intensity. My eyes shut tight as I let out loud moans.

“Uh uh open your eyes darlin.” He mumbled in between my thighs, and I opened them to see his eyes red as he stared at me his mouth still moving.

“I-I o-ohh fuck w-wait!” My head thrashed as I let out a squeak my toes curling into the sheets, my chest heaving.

“Oh fuck remmick!” I whined, moving my hand down to push his head back a bit. “J-just wait!”

He moved his head away from my core and rubbed my clit with his thumb.

“What happened to you me letting me ruin you Lenora?” His eyes a shiny red as he continued to run circles on my clit. All I could do is let out noises.

“Don’t do that now honey, you got all dolled up for me, told me to ruin you and now you can’t even form a proper fucking sentence.” He laughed. My brows drawn tight as I went between throwing my head back due the pleasure and looking at him as I moaned loudly.

“Huh? What was that? Can’t hear you sweetie speak up.” He said then went right back to devouring my pussy.

And when she finally shattered for him — legs clamping tight around his head, hips jerking helplessly — he didn’t stop.

He rode it out with her, licking her slow and deep till she was whimpering and trembling, completely wrecked.

“Tired?” He picked up his head from between my thighs. I nodded weakly my eyes watery as I looked at him between my thighs.

“Too bad baby.” He patted one of my thighs and gave it a sweet kiss before going back down in between my thighs.

When he finally pulled back, his mouth was shining, his eyes glowing soft red.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning like sin itself.

“Now that’s the sweetest thing I ever tasted,” he said roughly.

Before i could recover, he was up — unbuckling his pants one-handed, cock springing free, thick and heavy.

He didn’t ask.

Didn’t hesitate.

Just grabbed my hips, dragged me down the bed, and pressed the thick, bare head of his cock against my dripping entrance.

“Gonna fuck you so good, baby,” he rasped, voice breaking at the edges. “So good you won’t even remember your own damn name.”

And then he pushed in — bare, raw, deep — filling me in one thick, slow stroke.

I cried out, clawing at his back, overwhelmed by the stretch, the heat, the filthy, perfect way he fit inside me.

No barrier.

No protection.

Just him — thick and hot and bare — claiming every inch.

He stilled for a moment, forehead pressed to hers, breath ragged.

“Ain’t lettin’ you go now, sweetheart,” he muttered against her mouth before he kissed me slowly.“Too good to be let go of.” He added on

⸻

He didn’t give me time to catch my breath.

I cried out. “R-remmick wait.”

Flipped me onto my stomach with a rough tug, dragging my hips up till i was on my knees, back arched, ass in the air.

“Look at you,” he rasped, sliding back into me with one brutal thrust. “Pretty little thing takin’ this cock like you were made for it.”

I gasped loudly then let out a broken moan.

The sound of skin slapping filled the room — rough, fast, filthy.

I sobbed, my mouth agape. My head dropped into the pillow, the one I so desperately bit into.

Every stroke pushed me forward on the bed, and he just grunted, grabbing my hips tighter, pounding into me like he couldn’t get deep enough.

He moaned loudly throwing his head back.

“Fucking hell.” And I could’ve sworn I heard a slight Irish accent slip out.

I held onto the metal frame the bed squeaking louder and louder each thrust.

I gasped, moaned, whimpered — every noise only spurring him on harder.

He smacked my ass once—twice—three times, low and rough, making me jolt forward with whines.

“I love the way your ass bounces back on me, Nora… mm, shit.”

His voice was thick, breathless — the kind of groan that vibrated down my spine.

I lifted my head, eyes glossy and blurred with pleasure, just to look back — and damn, what a sight.

His brows were drawn tight, jaw slack, lips parted as he stared down at the way my ass met his hips with every thrust…

the wet slap of skin filling the room, his balls hitting with every deep stroke.

He dragged his gaze up from the bounce of my ass, eyes catching mine over my shoulder — and then that damn smile curved across his face.

Without a word, he slid one hand from my waist and gripped the back of my neck, firm but careful, pulling me upright into him.

A guttural moan ripped from my throat as my back arched against his chest, my body molding to his like it was always meant to fit there.

⸻

His fingers were slick as they slid through the mess between my thighs, teasing the swollen spot that made me twitch and gasp.

My head dropped forward, forehead brushing the curve of my arm as I bit down hard on my lip.

He grinned behind me — could feel me tightening, trembling — and still, he didn’t let up. His strokes stayed deep, deliberate. His fingers circled slow, just enough to keep me on edge.

“Tryin’ to be quiet now?” he drawled low, voice thick and husky against the shell of my ear. “After all that beggin’?”

I whimpered, shaking my head, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Oh, baby,” he cooed, dragging his tongue along the side of my neck, “you already lost.”

“You feel that?” he breathed. “That’s me hittin’ that spot over and over till you’re cryin’ again.”

His hand glided up my stomach, stopping when he reached the spot where I could feel the weight of him pressing deep inside me. You feel that, baby?” “Look at how deep I am…look baby.”

“I-I feel it… I can’t— it’s so deep…” I let out a broken sob, not even trying to fight it anymore, I glanced down and saw it — the small bulge in my stomach, thick and impossible to ignore.

My hand trembled as I traced the spot where he pressed from the inside, a deep bulge right in my stomach.

“Please,” i gasped, not sure what i was begging for. To stop. To keep going. To let me fall.

He nipped my shoulder with his teeth, and his voice dropped darker.

“Yeah. That’s it. Beg for it.”

⸻

“That’s right, baby,” he growled. “Cry for me. Let everybody know who’s fuckin’ you now.”

My legs gave out first — i collapsed onto my forearms, shaking, crying from the overwhelming pleasure.

He didn’t stop.

He just followed me down, leaning over my back, fucking me even deeper.

“Gonna fill you up, sweetheart,” he whispered in my ear, voice almost desperate. “Gonna make you mine from the inside out.”

And with that said he began to move slowly, pulling out soft mewls from me.

————

My thighs trembled beneath him, slick and shaking, but he didn’t stop — not with the way my body kept trying to run, even as it begged to stay.

“Where you goin’?” he murmured, lips ghosting against the shell of my ear. “Hm? You tryin’ to run from what you was beggin’ for?”

I couldn’t answer. Could barely breathe. My hand reached back blindly, grabbing at anything — his wrist, his hip, the sheets — but there was no saving myself now. Not with the way he was buried so deep, dragging slow strokes that made me see stars.

And his fingers still worked my clit with steady, wicked precision — slick circles that had my hips jerking back, chasing every stroke even as my head shook like i couldn’t take it.

“Look at you,” he groaned, watching the way my back arched, my ass bouncing just right against his hips. “Takin’ me so damn good. Pussy grippin’ me like she don’t wanna let go.”

I let out a choked moan, and he laughed under his breath, rough and low.

“You feel how messy it is down there?” he growled. “How wet you are for me? That’s mine, baby. You hear me?”

I tried to nod, but the pleasure was mounting too fast — too sharp — my breath catching in short, helpless gasps.

He leaned down, his chest brushing my back, his voice dark velvet in my ear.

“Don’t you come yet.”

I whimpered — almost cried — as his pace slowed just enough to drive me insane, rolling his hips deep, grinding against that spot that made me cry every time.

He kissed my shoulder, then bit it softly.

“You wait till I say, pretty girl. You wanna come on this dick?”

“Huh baby?” He said breathlessly as he smirked before letting out a low moan.

I couldn’t even respond.

“You ask me for it.”

My lips parted, tears burning behind my lashes as i tried to obey — tried to hold it in even though my whole body screamed for release.

“P-please,” I gasped, nearly sobbing.

“Please what?” he coaxed, hips never stopping, voice like sin. “Use your words.”

I arched again, grinding myself back onto him, and the sound that left me was ragged, desperate, raw.

“Please let me come…”

And right then, he slammed into me hard — just once — all the way to the hilt, making me scream out as everything snapped.

⸻

When he finally came — deep, hard, cursing low and filthy against my skin — he held me tight against him, grinding slow and messy to make sure every last drop stayed inside.

I was wrecked.

Sweaty, shaking, boneless.

Face buried in the sheets, trying to catch my breath, my thighs still trembling from the force of it all.

He kissed my shoulder — lazy, soft — and whispered against my skin

I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt his arms around me — pulling me back into him, wrapping tight across my middle like he was trying to hold everything together.

“Shh,” he whispered into my hair, voice low and cracked. “I got you, baby. I got you.”

My body wouldn’t stop trembling. The aftershocks kept rolling through me — soft, sharp little waves that left my thighs quivering and my breath catching in uneven sobs. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Just felt everything, all at once.

He didn’t let go.

Instead, he kept me right there in his lap, my back pressed to his chest, his hands moving slow and careful over my stomach like he was coaxing me back into my skin. One hand drifted up into my hair, smoothing through the damp curls with fingers that trembled a little too — and maybe that’s what undid me most. How gentle he was now. How quiet.

“You’re okay,” he murmured, like a promise. “You did so good for me, pretty girl.”

I didn’t have the strength to speak. Just leaned into him, let my hand find his forearm, clung to him like I was still falling. Like maybe I’d fall forever if I let go.

He kissed my shoulder — soft, reverent — and I shivered.

“You still with me?” he asked, palm cupping my jaw, tipping my head back slightly.

I blinked up at him, dazed and watery-eyed, and nodded.

His smile was different now — not dark, not cocky. Just warm. Real.

“Good,” he breathed against my skin. “Gonna take care of you now, alright?”

He shifted us gently, lowering me back onto the bed, sliding under the covers with me. His body curled around mine like armor, and his hands — still steady, still warm — moved over me in soft circles: my thigh, my side, my hip.

“So fuckin’ proud of you,” he whispered against my neck. “My beautiful girl.”

I let out a breath — not a sob this time. Just something quiet and spent and safe. I let myself melt into him, my body sinking against his like I’d never moved before. And he held me. Through every tremble, every shaky breath. He held me like I was something worth protecting.

And when the silence stretched and the storm in my chest softened, I whispered into it.

“…Don’t go.”

He stilled for half a second — then exhaled slow, his mouth brushing my shoulder.

“I’m not leaving.”

⸻

remmicks pov:

She barely made it a few minutes before her breathing evened out, her body softening completely against me. One of her hands stayed wrapped around me, like she didn’t trust the world enough to let go.

I stayed there, holding her, my thumb brushing slow, lazy circles against the curve of her shoulder.

And I realized — it wasn’t just the heat of her skin, or the way she whispered my name like a prayer that kept me here.

It was something deeper.

Something older.

Because when she clung to me like that — all sleepy and broken open — it stirred up something I thought I’d buried a long time ago.

Something I’d shoved down and left to rot with the rest of the ghosts.

The reason I stayed wasn’t just because she needed me.

It was because in that moment, she reminded me of something I thought I’d lost forever.

A place I could come home to.

And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t want to run from it.

I wanted to stay.

So I tightened my hold around her, tucked her closer, breathed her in.

When she whispered, so small I almost missed it. “Don’t go…”

I bent down, pressed my mouth to her hair, and murmured against her skin.

“I’m not leaving.”

And this time, I meant it.

[icewindandboringhorror]

(also feel free in the tags to clarify Why you made the choice you made!! :0c)

[betaboks]

Vince pinned (to make things easy to look for)

HI, I'm Vicente ! 20+ he/him lesbian

art tag | writing tag | talking tag | twitter | ao3 | strawpage | Writing requests are welcome, askbox is open

Currently fixated on: Hashihime and One Piece (Vinsibs focus)

[hinamie]

10 years later

[kwadlayns]

talk to me in french, talk to me in spanish 🍒

[moncuries]

guess what i watched on new years (a redraw kind of)

[wanderingibon]

anya deserved so much better

[inkskinned]

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

[merelygifted]

Most of the above what follows the "You don't hate kids" part is very true for me. However...

I dislike a lot of kids I meet, and disliked a lot of kids when I was one myself. So many kids are cruel, thoughtless, rude, merciless, lacking manners, and generally unpleasant.

The kids who bullied me, esp the poor things who could barely read in 3rd grade, all told me I was stupid.

I'd been reading the editorials in the newspaper since I was 4. Had they found out about that, it would have just been another thing that made me weird and stupid.

Being stuck into a classroom with more than 30 kids the first day of 1st grade at a new school was a shock. They were all yelling. It was chaos. I looked around and thought, "How on Earth can I be expected to learn in an environment like this, surrounded by children?!"

Turned out it didn't work at all well for me. What a surprise.

99% of the awful kids at that elementary school were at least as bad when I ran into them again as a teenager at the public high school. I'd been at a different school for 3 years, while they'd honed their nastiness, entrenched themselves in misogyny and bigotry, and grown bigger. The awful ones I'd never met before was also a major bonus.

My dislike of children is one of the myriad reasons I never had any.

Parents, please raise your kids to think about other people. Help them learn that everyone has a different viewpoint, feelings, thoughts, and emotions. Please do your best to raise caring, empathic children, instead of narcissistic, selfish ones. Teach them that bullying is wrong, and only rare situations call for being nasty.

you don't "hate kids," you hate being forced into a caretaking role.

you don't "hate kids," you hate censorship passed off as family values.

you don't "hate kids," you hate the constrictiveness of the nuclear family.

you don't "hate kids," you're just not used to occupying fully age diverse spaces so you're not used to the noise or the many different kinds of needs.

you don't "hate kids," most public spaces just aren't built for kids, and so the few kids you see are always uncomfortable and distressed.

you don't "hate kids," you hate the intense social rules assigned to kids and anyone who interacts with kids.

You don't "hate kids," you hate how society reproduces its most restrictive elements and how kids are powerless to resist it.

[artkaninchenbau]

A h-heartfelt reunion..?

Bonus

[exoflash]

a concerning amount of witchblr will be like "um actually new years was stolen by europeans from the ancient god scroobus mcdoobus" and then you actually try to research scroobus mcdoobus and it turns out he was invented in the 1940s by a conspiracy theorist who powdered every meal with ketamine and thinks that queer people are reincarnated fish