#cause to me “he” was a boy with a girl's name

[wingedfuncomputer]

The Outskirs of Town

Remmick x fem!reader

Summary: Living far from town with a father who treats you more like a maid instead of a daughter proves itself exhausting. Secluded like a bird in a cage, a boring cycle life becomes until a random man shows up one night striking up an innocent deal. In name of your chicken coop you accept letting him in. Though as time passes & whispers of violence roughing a sweet couple up around town has you rethinking this weird relationship you have created with the Irish stranger who seemed to come out of thin air.

WarningsNSFW: slow-burnish, naive!reader, if you squint fluff, racist undertones, racism, reader has a mean father, manipulative! Remmick, blood, dub-con, fingering, oral (fem!receiving), corruption kink?, somnophilia, No actual P in V, violence, vampirism, death!, nightmares, injury!, biting, Angst, spit

Word count: 14.6k Fic playlist!

From a far his eyes locked on her. Right as the sun set tending the little chickens, ushering them into the coop. Softly, she tried her hardest to close the door as if not wanting to scare them. A regular passer by wouldn't glance an eye she was a normal little thing, but not to him, not to Remmick.

It was primal how he always found himself being dragged back to her every time the sun decided to hide behind the horizon. Her sweat, her skin, her pulsing blood enticed him as if he'd known her before. She was too sweet to ravish like all those ol' people he had left a mess of before. He let himself get enveloped in the idea that his human mind,what little of it remained had.Affection. With that utterly disgusting revelation he decided to knock on her door to put an end to the feeling once and for all. Heavy, knuckles contacting the chipping paint of the wood.

You had been sweeping the floor when you heard a noise coming from the front door. A little startled you had halted confused by who would be visiting your father so late at night. Most people weren't out after sun down. "The floors ain't gon' sweep themselves keep at it girl". His gruffy voice made you grip the wooden stick tighter negating the fact it caused splinters to get stuck to your skin. It was old, long due to be thrown away but your voice was nonexistent in this house. With a small creak a hesitant humble very male voice spoke, "good afternoon... sir". You whipped your head around intrigued but found your father's body blocking the man behind the door. "State your business". He had never learnt kindness, it was a foreign thing to him. "I'm just a lowly traveler going on by, was wonderin' if you could offer some hospitality". A huff emitted from your father as the man continued. "My wife she's no longer with us.. I must find myself across the state but the sun is beating and unforgiving". Your heart ached for him, he sounded defeated. Your father surely would say mean ol' things to him and get violent. But suprisingly he laughed barking your name then orders at you, "fetch this man a cup of water". Only for a split second when he turned were you able to capture a glimpse, the man already looking directly at you. His features resembled your father's, except for his frame he looked thinner his face covered in what seemed to be a mix of dirt and sweat. You nod and quickly keep your eyes down. Whilst you grab a tin cup and fill it with water by the sink you hear the small hushing of their conversation asking where he was headed to and why. Your steps are weary making sure you don't spill the water.

"The Catholics did a number on my people kindness is hard to come by. Could you let me in don't want to bother the young lady ?" His first comment is what makes your father's demeanor change, you see it from a few feet away as his back tenses. He ignores the man's request, "Where you from boy?". Once only a few inches away you decide to lay down the cup by a piece of furniture near by. Eyes creeping behind your father's shoulders it was obvious to see the man was not a boy. There's a glint of a smirk in the strangers lips as he glances at you, "Ireland". That's when your heart drops, with poison your father spits "get your filthy Irish ass off my f*cking property". 

"I don't mean no disrespect, I'd still appreciate that water" he takes a step forward which makes your father push him. You yelp afraid they'd have a full brawl and the innocent man would end up in his grave. "You won't get nothin' here ! Leave my property". Your hands goes up to your fathers arm as you can see his anger exalted, his fist itching to make contact with the Irish man's face. "Father please..." his face full of anger weighs in on yours before shoving your hand away and instead drags you inside once more. "It's best if you learn to keep away from men like that ." He speaks as if the man wasn't there, you can't help but take a look once more offering a look of apology.

That whole night you couldn't bring yourself to sleep tossing and turning, imagining what that poor man was going through. You didn't hear about him the following day or day after that until you found yourself reluctantly putting yet another dead bird into a sack. They were being ripped to shreds, you made sure the coop was secured each night so what could be killing them? It was sundown, the night air hitting your skin in a way that made your hairs stick up. " 'coyote... or fox" your body jolts hearing someone break the silent spell in the air. Immediately letting the bag fall and taking steps back as you twist to see who the voice belonged to. "Apologies I didn't mean to scare ya". It was hard to see in the darkness but the moonlight along with your small lamp on the ground allowed you to see enough to say, "your the man from a few days ago". He was standing behind the fence that surrounded your chicken coop. "Guilty as charged" you couldn't help but laugh along with him. "I'm Remmick" he extends his hand towards you which you can only just stare at. It would've been appropriate to say your name and envelope his hand but you don't. Remmick. "My Irish hands too dirty" he murmurs to himself which makes you start to ramble in apologies insuring his heritage nothing to do with your lack of a response. " of course not It's just that, no offense sir your a- your a...." Your stuttering makes heat flood your cheeks. "A stranger?" He says it so casually no anger laced in between his words just light heartedness. You both stare at each other in an awkward pregnant pause before you find the courage to nod. Guilt weighs in your soul after reflecting "I'm truly ashamed about what happened last time... that is no way to be treated". He just smiles a little huff of air being exhaled as he leaned into the fence, "it happens more than you know darlin' nothin' personal". His deep voice grumbles nicely when he calls you by that little pet name making your stomach flutter. It must've been as clear as the night sky you weren't allowed around men often let alone other people.

Remmick seems intrigued by you growing quiet, tilting his head to the side as he quirks , "the way across the state ain't an easy one.. staying around these parts is easier. would help if I had a place to rest... ". You would offer him your home in a heartbeat but you knew how your pops wasn't fond of him, let alone yourself. He could barely tolerate you. The strangers eyes are trained on your every twitch, chest constricting and trembling hands playing with the loose fabric of your skirt. It was quite nice really it felt like you were a lil' rabbit troubled by your surroundings. Yet You were unaware that the greatest danger wasn't your father, no not your father. It was the devil himself looming over you in this instant.

He smacks his lips making you look back at him once more. His pointer finger is near his mouth faking thought, "well I might just got a deal that could work for both 'f us". Your eyebrows furrow in confusion but you still hear the poor man out. "I can help ya with the lil' chicken problem... in exchange I get a piece of shelter". His eyes nudge at the forgotten sack beneath you then trail up your frame to your face. Your teeth grind trying to thinking If he helped manage the death of these chickens father would probably lay off my back, let me go back out in town for food or what not for he farm.

"So what da ya, say? You gon' let me in?"

You still hear it even after many days of accepting. The way his finger nail clicked on the fence doors metal handle, his words not menacing or inviting just there looming behind your brain and the stillness that overtook the night. He was your secret, like a little frog you hid beneath your bed covers from your father when you were younger. Except he took cover in the coop with the chickens and he was no frog... just a man with everything he'd lost weighing on top of his shoulders. And like those slimy little animals you gave him food and water usually late at night when your father wouldn't suspect a thing, not that he cared much for your safety.

The arrangement went well the chicken massacre was over in just short of days. You were given permission to go back in town and here you found yourself in the shop owned by colored folk. Your pops would be yelling at you through the top of his lungs but he wasn't here who would scold you then? He couldn't tell the difference between the white peoples and the not so white peoples food. It was all the same. You got a few stares here and there but didn't pay much mind your eyes were encapsulated by a nice pocket watch. Not too big to cost lots of money but still a good size your sure Remmick would benefit from this for his travels. "Well well don't tell me the fine lady got a man now?" You clutch the fine piece of metal in your hands but relax once you realize it's Genevieve a worker of the shop you've grown fond of. You shake your head trying to fight the blush surging on your face, "oh no nothin' of the sort just for a friend!". Her arms cross in front of her chest giving you that look of suspicion. "That's how it starts then next thing ya' know you'll be popping those babies out like a damn industrial machine". She speaks with a reminiscent tone. She was a mother of a new born with a doting husband they didn’t have much they were all she ever needed.You can't help but stifle your giggle, the idea of being that way with the Irish man hiding in your barn seeming much too far. Not that it hadn't cross your mind you were just a woman after all and he was a handsome man. "I barely even know him, just a  few days n' countin". Her eyes widen with a smirk, "so there is someone!". You both walk towards the register that seemed to be isolated from the other part of the establishment. "He must be real handsome to be worth all this money. A real dream," she says sarcastically while she has the watch in her hand. You lay the rest of your groceries on the isle next to the register. It was pretty but out of your tax bracket maybe not your fathers but You're sure he'd notice right away on your big spending when the plentiful groceries were baren when you'd bring them back. "...your right, I'm dreamin' far too big " you let out self deprecatingly

"Aint nothin' wrong with dreamin' big, though I have to admit this gift is more of a husband typa gift. Unless... he be your husband?". "No...". She can see you grow a bit ashamed so she puts the watch back in a secure place before she brings out a straw cowboy hat. "You don't see these round here much, but very good for hard workin' men. Keep the sun out their face n' everythin'. Less than the watch... I'll even give ya a deal". If Remmick was traveling by foot your sure the sun would be unforgiving, could be easier to disguise the buy for yourself. Pops wouldn't bat an eye. "You make a good bargain I can't resist Genevieve".  Well most bargains you fell victim to. As you pay for your  things she puts the food in your home bag and places the hat a bit too big for your size on your head, flicking the edge. "Now go tell your man he'll have to make you a wife after this gift" you both laugh as you start walking away until her voice calls out to you right as your a few inches from the door. Turning around she gives you a tight hug which you try your best to return, "stay safe alright people goin' missing round here don't be one of 'em".

Her voice was soft and dripping with concern you thought about her warning as you walked back home. Still an hour or two till sun down which meant your father would be home soon. So quickly you got to cookin' dinner, a potato soup with corn on the side. Not the most cohesive plate but enough to fill the stomach up. With a rumble of an engine coming to a halt you knew he was home. Not so long after dragged in your father with no words exchanged sitting down to eat, you joined him in silence. Your heart was palpating as the sun finally set, in excitement of being able to see Remmick and giving him the hat you had bought him currently tucked away in your room. "Serve me 'nother plate" gruff cut and dry. "Yes sir" you got up going to the too small to even be considered pot with his bowl serving him more. As you placed it on the table there was no gratitude so you went back to your own bowl which you ate slowly. Once he was finished he left his plate deserted going upstairs to the washroom, the trickling of water alerted you to pass by the same room he was in to grab his clothes. The cold bucket of water outside was a perfect contrast to the slight humidity in the air. You tugged the large pants and shirt against the makeshift slab of wood and metal that helped scrape the clothes new. Even with the hair tie a few pieces of hair got in front of your face which you tried your best to shoulder out of the way. Maybe one day you'd run far from these grounds and start living not just slaving away doing chores. You squish the clothes riding them of the water extending them before laying them up in the clotheslines. With a deep breath you take a chance to intake the sweet oxygen. the small sweat building up proving the job was just a bit harder than it seemed

He was watching from the darkness in the trees, the adrenaline once fresh in his veins now soothing and left nothing but a linger. It became a ritual he could never get enough of. Having kept you alive was fun. Not something that only lasted a few minutes but could be dragged on for as long as he liked. He was the reason you were standing there right now tired from your chores. Your pulse seeming to call him like some sort of siren in the ocean. His feet silent beneath the summer grass.

You pondered of what Genevieve had said earlier about the towns folk going missing. The hollowness in the air along with the hanged clothes obstructing your view of the forest surrounding your house urged you to go back inside. With a quick turn you didn't expect for Remmick to be at your side. Automatically you slapped your hands over your mouth successfully hiding your yelp. "You gotta stop doin that!" You try your best to whisper. His creeping was perfect no evidence of sounds being heard as if he were some sort of ghost, maybe a warlock with witchcraft tricks. He tries his hardest to bury his small laugh inside the depthless of his chest throwing his hands up in surrender noticing your frustration. "Ya must know I can't help myself doll". You notice the sweat buildup on his forehead and the little dirt on his face. Swiftly you take the cloth wrapped around your waist dipping it in the clean water remaining then stepped closer to him, wiping it across his skin. "I know you can't seem to keep yourself clean either" you expected him to sass back but instead he just stares adoringly at you as you finish up focusing on his sweaty bangs.  "Why would I? It'll probably be the only time you put your hands on me willingly, I'm trynna cherish it". his hand lifts up to your face caressing your cheek lightly before tucking that stray hair behind your ear. "That's not true.." your words died with his touch. His fingers on your skin make your heart skip a beat, body freeze and your throat run dry. He was being a flirt purposefully. Right? I mean he was usually this way just never so straight forward and touchy. As if knowing you were having a revelation he can't help but tilt his head and let his eyebrows raise.

"-your soup" you blurt out retracting your hand. Trying to unakwardfy the moment you clear your throat as you slowly walk away, "I'll bring you your soup, you must be real hungry n' I don't wanna make it grow colder". You don't give him enough time to respond shutting the door behind you, back pressed against the firm wood. Your hands come up to your chest, finally letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Uncertainty was growing in your head along with the small tingles that ran through your back from being do close to him .... Being able to see every pore, feel his touch his eyes and lips you'd bet he'd kissed many women in his life and you knew they had enjoyed it...how would it feel- enough! You push yourself off the door and get to pouring Remmick a bowl in a hastily manner. Your father's weight creaks under the wood floors but he pays you no mind instead goin' to sit on the small couch with his radio and newspaper in hand. The small grumbling of the static of voices was oddly comforting allowing you to carefully wrap a piece of corn on the cob around a rag. Before going outside you go upstairs to your room scouring for your knitted cardigan. It was a pretty shade of dirt brown with little specs of beige. As you slipped it on your eyes catch a glimpse of the cowboy hat you picked out for the ol' Irish man but decided against removing it from the edge of your bed. He’s just a stranger the voice in your head reminded you.

By the time you go outside once more you expect him to be waiting for you, in that same stance resting against the fence you've grown fond of but to no surprise it seemed he'd gone into the chicken coop early. You weren't sure why it made your heart weigh down on your chest. Though disappointed you don't let yourself fret, placing the bowl and corn right ontop the fence knowing he'd come out whenever possible. Maybe you should knock never know what if he just forgot. Your knuckles softly tapped on the wood not the one that belonged to the chicken coop but the fence. It wasn't to signal for him it was to merely trying to build courage for yourself to actually do so. Ultimately though you retreated back into your home.

Had he taken your abrupt leave as rejection? Was he bothered? Worse what if he no longer wanted to speak to you! Were the thoughts plaguing your mind throughout the day after. Juvenile ones you were ashamed to admit. "Tell me I'm a fool. Tell me I'm doomed please Genevieve" you whined to the woman you always came to bother. She was just a few years older but there was a certain maturity to her you loved like a mother. "Who's not when it comes to love, though I'd push back on the doomed.". "I wouldn't even say love, he's a complete stranger not even from here..". She halts the clothes she was folding completely, turning to look at you, "ya said he was your friend what do ya mean complete stranger n' not from 'round here ? ". It was stern as if the little small details you had mentioned about his appearance, sweet gestures and his "nightly visits" held no validity now. "Well he's not exactly my friend I've known for ages that's why I said stranger". But your poor excuse of a lie didn't faze her, immediately you cracked. "Alright I lied! I only know this man for a little less than 2 weeks he was just so sweet n' needed help but my papa don't like him so he's been staying in the coop where I keep all my chickens!". It was as if she was the one trying to catch her breath at your confession. "Before ya judge he's a very honorable man, he ain't do nothin' weird yet he helps keep the predators away from my small feathered friends n' I just provide him food, water ya know the basic necessities-" That's how you start telling her the whole story from start to finish of how that night when you met went down. All the nitty gritty and the pointless details.

"Oh child may the lord bless ya heart". You were unsure on how to react to her words, an akward smile hanging on your lips. "Is that meant in a good way or-?"  She cuts you off before you can finish. "What in the world ya thinking'! You must wanna visit your grave early girl". You try to scratch the nervousness away behind your neck as you dash your eyes around the store. "It's not as bad as it seems Gene I swear".  "Let me get this straight a man who came begging at your door, which your father kicked out, is now living in your barn house because he caught you late at night offered to help you protect your chickens so now your bending over backwards for him?". Even though you're afraid to you just nod. She sighs deeply, "I swear with the crimes appearin' round town I'd wish you'd be more careful". There's real sincerity in her voice which makes your tone turn a bit defensive. "I live on the outskirts news like that don't reach me so easily..". Theres a bit of silence in the air to make the gears in your head turn. "what exactly happened anyway?"

" some lady n' her husband near the outskirts aswell, don't know exactly where she lives.. or lived. No sign left of 'em  just blood n' their baby. Many said it was a Horrible horrible sight wouldn't wish it on anybody" your body can't help but let out a small tinge of sweat afraid of exactly what fate the babe had met . "So are both of 'em alive?". "No one knows.. as I said lots of blood but yet no bodies" there was a linger of thick air between the both of you, unspoken yet very heavy. "Should probably get home then, I'll keep myself safe". You both said your goodbyes and off you were right as the sun met the edge of the horizon. The walk back had been nothing but peaceful, a weird ambiance of sorts seeming to loom, even the quiet of the house had grown intimidating. Though rinse repeat of the previous days as you made dinner and your father came in the door, eating then leaving you be busied you away such thoughts. While your pops went to sleep earlier, you on the other hand find your place outside once more leavin' Remmicks food out on top the fence like you always did. You were collecting the hens eggs when you noticed the grid near the top of their little home was slowly but surely ripping off. While you stood up to inspect the spot you caught glimpse of Remmick far away walking towards you. You lift a hand up and he does as-well It makes you notice something wrapped around his back. Throughout his stay he would busy himself in the day, you never pushed yourself to ask. You didn't think it would be quite appropriate to know his day schedule, he never asked yours... well not that he had to ask, you always told him the night before.

"Busying yourself with the hens now are ya". You smile at his introduction to starting a conversation. He joined you inside the fenced perimeter. After just a day or two you had grown to miss his voice. "You may protect 'em but I still gotta clean 'em n'  their small home aswell. What's that you got?" You can't help but let your curiosity get the best of you especially when it came to something that looks like an instrument. He swiftly tilts whatever he has around so what looked like a guitar is now In front of him. With a small lean towards you he professes as if he were about to tell you something sacred, "this ol' thing is called a banjo, keeps me company late at night". Your eyes light up, repeating the instruments name in your head and the fact he hadn't lost his spark from a few days prior. Pops never allowed these kinda things here he told you a home was meant for quiet not to be filled with loud yapping and music. "Well you must play somethin' for me now". His fingers tap the edge of the banjo eyes locked onto yours before his voice grows husky. " beg real nicely n' I might just do it" your breath hitches at his words, eyes trailing down to where he was slowly rubbing small circles on the surface of the banjo. This minuscule action had you in a trance. What was he doing to you? What was this you were feeling growing deep in your bones at the depthness of your belly?

You did end up asking him, begging so sweetly he just couldn't resist to let you hear him play . A sweet tune you can't even remember the rhythm to, or his humming he offered. The only thing you were able to remember was the way his fingers strummed softly as you lay in bed. It was the last thing on your mind before the night gently coaxed you to sleep.

It was a fever that overtook your senses as you shifted back and forth in bed, sweat accumulating on your neck and forehead. An unexplainable throb growing between your legs while something wet slithered between yourself like the slits of a book. A plunge invading your most intimate part made you cry, head thrown back as your hips and hands tried to wrestle with this new feeling. It felt sinful, violating, a light sting causing pain, yet addicting. You didn't want it to stop, you didn't want the attack on your folds to end. A rumble, like a laugh made vibrations, shocks travel through your cunt inching that tightness in your stomach close to absolute destruction. You didn't want whatever was happening to stop. That's when you looked down, hands digging into a full set of sweaty hair, pulling to at least reveal the object of your greatest pleasure. Those ice cold eyes, toothy grin with a peculiar fang, his nose bridge. "Beg real nicely f’ me " he hushed his fingers still working overtime. But that's all you needed the puff of hot air on the place he had just been feasting right over your pearl. His eyes never leaving yours. Your moans grow, his name dying on your lips as all you can let out is strings of abnormal sounds as you feel your peak finally falling over.

A loud bang immediately has you sitting straight up in your small bed. "Sleepin' in is for the f*cking birds. Are you a bird?" You rub your eyes, still dazed from what your mind had just made you experience. Yet you know better than prioritizing regaining yourself quickly you groggily speak, "no.. no, I'm not sir". "Right your not so get your ass out the bed and start cleanin'!"  He mumbles out strings of insults as he finally leaves the confines of your room. From the way the sun is blaring you were sure it was closer to noon than your regular wake up time.

You do what he orders ignoring the wetness between your thighs. He leaves and you were sure he wouldn't come back till next morning or next days midnight. He always had the habit of leavin' when the weekend came. Who knows where, all you knew is when he'd come back he'd be drunk out his mind n' rage enough to feed a whole herd of cows with his hands... you find yourself with infinite amount of free time finishing with cleaning the whole house in records time. So you sit near a window gazing at the sunlight, the birds, grass and faint butterflies here n there. It was quite odd really you had never gone past the perimeters of your house grounds only sticking to your home, the trail leading to the town and the town itself. The woods surrounding your home were quite dark, the trees even from where you were sitting seemed to have claws for twigs, all sorts of poisonous plants were just a few distance away and the wild animals.. the ones who had killed 1/4 of your chickens. All danger, you didn't have to put yourself in front of. The chickens invaded your view making you realize you hadn't treated the hens to a proper clean. With a small groan you lift yourself off the window ledge grabbing the cowboy hat you had bought a few days ago. You still hadn't found the courage to give it to him, even though a bit loose around your head it had really proved itself useful with blocking out the sun just as Gene had promised. Especially like now that you were grabbing buckets of water back n' forth, cleaning with rags the outside of the house along with the old broom. Even with the shade created on your face it didn't stop the relentless rays from causing unexplainable heat.

"That darn metal wire" you huff out, mouth dry. When you had believed to be done you took notice of the even wired fence on the top of the hens coop looking in worse condition than before. Did I not take care of this? Before your anger can get the best out of you, shame takes over it instead trickling in big waves. Remmick and his banjo... that's what got me distracted.  You bite your lip scouring for pliers your father kept in a tool box near the coop. The sun was going down soon you told yourself you could catch a drink after you finish this last job. You have to really force your eyes to focus when extending yourself to try and reach the metallic fence. I won't replace it completely just wrap it around itself to keep any unwanted creatures out. Then I'll rest..

Your hands start to shake a bit and your calf's hurt due to you being on your tiptoes. Focus it's not that hard. Successfully you close 3 out of 4 wires needing one left. But then you hear a snap then a sharp sting running down your finger. You hiss in response and let the pliers go abruptly, which causes them to land on your foot. The overwhelming situation makes your breath lose evenness not helping the fight of lack of oxygen your lungs had already been dealing with. Your vision stars to be invaded by growing black splotches. "Sit.. I've gotta, do that..." so you do, hand tightly wrapped around your thumb both covered in that red essence. The sight of your not so little cut makes you grow even more light headed. Before you can even protest the darkness envelops you, too weak to even fight it your eyes gently flutter shut.

You feel it before seeing it. There's a huge pounding in your head that forces your lids to be no more than one centimeter open and a throb. Not a painful one, no one that expresses want on the southern side of your body. It's familiar, like the feeling you had freshly in the morning except unlike in your dream you clench on nothing. Only tingles you can grasp onto but it doesn't create satisfaction. what makes you drift your dazed eyes downward is the pressure felt on your thumb. It was hard to focus, everything was a blur you just catch the sound of wetness. Something holding your hand, it was draining you not just emotionally but physically. Subconsciously you moan it's soft and covered in the many layers of your throat yet this makes whatever is beneath you stop. As it looks up your corneas put in the work even if it's for just a split second. You see the silhouette of a man, unrecognizable with bright red eyes, mouth lightly covered in your dark essence and sharp teeth. It was human n' monster combined n' it was staring straight at you. Your system was beyond exhausted shutting you forcefully down again.

Your left in darkness for a while till you start stirring awake, something cold running across your forehead. "C'mon gotta see you wake up" that voice delights your soul a light murmur of his name under your breath. It earns you a warm grumbly laugh from the depths of his chest, "the one n' only darlin" . You identify the object pressing against your cheek as his hand you can't help but lean into it. Though you did not find absolute warmth you still enjoyed it. He brings a small cup up to your lips urging you to drink which you do. Your dry throat rejoices in the new source of water to quench your thirst. The slight flex to your hand which alerts you of a slight sting sends flashes of faux memories through your brain. The animal the thing sucking your hand or your thumb whatever it had been made you involuntarily jolt subsequently some water spilling on you from the cup. "Sorry, sorry" you quickly say between breaths your low energy not equipping fast reflexes. He quickly puts the cup down comforting you by rubbing his hands down the side of your shoulders. "Are you alright what happened?" You try to cough to hide the embarrassing way your voice wobbled. "I'm good 'just- I'm skittish remember?" You try to laugh it off but you can tell he doesn't buy it. He plays along though. This moment of silence allows you to completely regain your senses to see you were still outside, next to the coop in the last position you remember being in.

"I wrapped your thumb real good, shouldn't bleed no more ... what happened to ya? I swear when I walked up I thought ya were just bein' silly with me" ,you pull your injured hand closer to you at its mention. The pliers not so far from you push you to speak, "I was trynna fix some part of the chicken coop, cut myself, must've lost track of time given I've been out all day in the glazing sun..." the cancerous rays, the heat that seemed to be burning you from inside out. Your healthy hand slaps at your head finding it empty the ground at your sides makes contact with your hand aswell. "Lookin' for this sweet old cowboy hat?" His voice is cocky once you look up you realize why. The straw you bought for was on his head. Fits him perfectly not just around his skull but the way it also frames his face makes you believe it was made specifically for him in mind and he knows this. He can't miss an opportunity to tease,  "Might keep it suits me well, your little brain don't fill it" now it's your turn to not laugh at his attempt to bring light heartedness into the air. You were still disturbed by the weird dream like nightmare you had experienced, adding on your injury aswell both weren't a good combo. Yet even with this you try not to dwell on the way the edges of his mouth tilt downward at your lack of enthusiasm. "That's actually for you.. I was meant to give to ya some time ago 'just was a coward". His mouth does a whole 180 his frown no more instead plastered on is a bashful smile. One that didn't have arrogance, teasing or any ulterior motives behind it. "Well aren't you just the sweetest doll face". You can't help but let the blush roam freely at his praise until that warmth in your belly returns along with a headache. "I should get to bed" as you try to stand a light whince leaves your lips the fact your foot was aching due to the heavy metal pliers that fell on them earlier coming to your attention. Remmick aids you in order to walk out the fence. The chickens were locked in the coop already, his plate of food gone. You don't realize any of this since having your body pressing onto his makes your brain mush.

"I can take it from here, I had just forgot those stupid pliers fell on my foot"  you say as you finally reach the houses back door. He lets you go, "don't forget to clean that wound up tomorrow should help without your pops nagging early mornin'" you laugh and say goodnight the weakness in your bones catching up to you.

The next day right as the sun rises you sit in the kitchen table in silence. A news article from town you had collected left at your door and Alcohol from your father's stash on the table as you stare at the oddly physically pleasant gash infront of you. Something was odd, you've received your own fair share of cuts, scrapes and injuries none of them compared to this one. It was as if where the skin broke was just an illusion, no blood left to clean or seep out just your pink flesh beneath your skin. You shift in your seat recounting the lapping at your finger that sent tingles down to your feet. It was all so weird, you never had vivid dreams like those and you could still feel its presence around you. It's hunger, need to suck you dry... but was it your blood it wanted or your soul? You sound like a kid overanalyzing your nightmares. It was just a nightmare that was all, you told yourself. Plus if any weird animal had been near you Remmick would've of noticed. He would've done something. Would he?

Your brain seems to be enjoying playing devils advocate forcing you to shake your head and stand from the chair in disagreement. Though you connected that the newspaper you had read. 'Couple missing child dead' was who Genevieve must've been talking about. No longer wanting to let your brain to spiral out of control you decide a shower would probably serve you well. So you do just that letting the comforting hands of the water caress your naked body while the wound on your hand isn't affected by the soap. You hum to yourself a tune one you've never heard of before, didn't even know the words to yet your brain simultaneously did. Something so normal you did everyday made you wonder back to the couple from town. 'Bert and Joan' the article of their tragedy had mentioned their names. Were they vigilant knowing something would happen or were they doing their daily tasks like you were right now? They were probably enjoying day until someone decided to make a mess of their lives let alone a baby. Whoever had done that deserved the worst penalty a judge could offer. It sadness your heart too much that you push the subject to the back of your brain. After you brush your hair out and put a new pair of fresh clothes on you decide to take a look at the small box you kept hidden away in your closet. It was your mother's. The only thing you had left of her.

There's few letters you read over too many times to count while growing up, miscellaneous objects and a photograph. It was in black n' white starting to peel right over her face. This photograph had been the only thing that connected you to your mother. now all that was left was a still picture of her beautifully clothed frame and one quarter of her face. Maybe it was for the best, you didn't know much about her and your pops said she just up n' left one day. You still held onto hope. The way she wrote, expressing her emotions just didn't seem to coincide with the woman your father portrayed her to be. What catches your attention though is this book, very dusty n' old. The secrets of the past, your hands trail over the title indented on the cover. Looking at the table of contents it seems to be an explanation book for medicinal recipes, herbs, then towards the end of the book you see "creatures". While trying to flip the pages over to that section you go downstairs. It's past mid day, the sun still strong so you lay down on the couch. With the book in your hand you start reading about wendigos and skin walkers of the sort. Their stalking abilities, ways to manipulate their prey, sharp teeth, their need for human flesh. That specific part was underlined, someone had read this book with passion, little notes on the side, phrases circled. Maybe your mother or a familiar... while you continue your investigation somewhere along the way you knock out. Cold and surrounded by darkness there’s Voices that start to whisper in your ear. They're indescribable except for the way it sounds like they're reciting a prayer. There's no fear just tranquility their hushness proving comforting. You can't relish in it long until they start getting louder a tone of desperation infecting them. Then your name being repeated. You try to move, stir yourself awake but nothing works. Your heart beat rings in your ears taunting you along with their cries, blood curling screams. A voice overtakes all of them in screaming your name.

You sit straight up gasping for air, chest rising and falling dramatically. It felt too real the vibrations of their voices still living deeply inside your ear drums. There's no time left to help yourself focus on calming your tremors down until a knock echos through the living room. Your blood pressure spikes from the sound but you force yourself up. It was dark out making you realize your nap took more than what you believed. The floor creaks underneath your bare feet with every step you take. Once you reach the door you hesitate. What if I'm going insane with stress and you're just hearing things? It was dark out, you were alone with no way to defend yourself... you decide on the next best course of action. Peaking through the medium sized window the door had your fingers pushed the drapes aside eyes coming in contact with a man facing away but you knew that sweaty hair anywhere and the banjo strapped on his back.

Quickly you open the door relieved to see Remmick as he turns around the cowboy hat you'd given him in hand. "Hey sweetheart" but you don't give him a response. He notices your eyes darting left and right the way you fidget with your fingers as if trying to tie a rope. Due to the lack of communication back he speaks again, "you alright 'seem on edge?". You try to brush it off but he moves forward on the little steps located at the front of the door. "I'm here for ya, 'can tell me anythin' ". He was at your doorstep, close to your house something he never did because he was overly cautious of your father catching a glimpse at him. An unspoken rule. "don't forget to clean that wound up tomorrow should help without your pops nagging early mornin'"

"Should help without your pops nagging early mornin'"

"How'd ya know?" You ask before thinking. He's a bit taken back by the out of the context question. "What da ya mean?". "How'd ya know my pops wasn't here?" You can see the warmth in his eyes falter for only a split second subconsciously you stopped leaning towards him. He laughs in your face making you rethink the sudden hostility on your end. "Cars gone, got hurt yesterday with no one to help, he'd done somethin' similar last week? 'Don't know darlin' don't take a genius to figure this one out". You sigh in disappointment at yourself joining him in a chuckle. He was the only one who cared for you, never hurt you, someone you considered a confidant sort of like Genevieve back in town. "Sorry, don't know what's wrong with me   I've just been havin' these nightmares must be the stress.." you rub your temples dragging your hair away from your face. He quiets down his voice more cut dry and for the first time since you met him you heard him sound unsure "What these nightmares about... if you don't mind me askin' ". You look up at him once more eyebrows scrunching trying to recall. "I'm not sure.. uhh monsters, voices or somethin' it's odd" it's not that you didn't want to tell him, you just weren't so sure of it yourself."Well good things they're just nightmares" he hums as he seems to be analyzing you. His gaze made you surprisingly uneasy but this feeling dwindles as he chirps . "There's this place over by the forest, it's where I find myself more often than not ... throughout the day of course. It's real sweet with a stream, nice little area to sit n' sing where the air hits nicely. Would love to share my place of paradise with ya if ya'd want to f'course".

It seemed enticing, intimate, but the crickets in the air and darkness that seeped from the forest haunting the background made you shake your head softly, "sorry.. not today". You had never been one to deny him you were always so eager to please. He forces a smile, "I understand, im a man here asking a lady to take a stroll along the concealed forest alone in the late of the night" you can see him take a few steps down the small flight of stairs. "It's not that Remmick, I really would love to it's just..." you can't find the words, the excuse, because it didn't exist. "... just can't" The last string of events had scrambled your brain like eggs in the morning. You weren't sure what to put faith in. With this rejections you can feel the disappointment In the way his shoulders drop. "It's alright.. I'll be, heading to sleep then, go catch your own z's ". His poor excuse for a laugh following his words was awkward. You should reach out to him, grab his hand before he goes too far for you bare feet could reach. But you never do watching as he settles inside the fence you can only murmur a small "goodnight" that doesn't even reach his ears. the small click back from the door signifies your end of the night as you lock it. You don't glance at the clock just dragging your feet on the floor all the way up to your room. Unlike before where you would just knock your self out with boredom instead you are subjected to torture by your lack of a dormant brain. The inability to succumb to sleep being the perpetrator. You wasn’t insomnia just the fleeting thought of danger being near never leaving, it was like you knew something was bound to happen something terrible, but couldn't pin point exactly when. Your father hadn't come home, the stressful nightmares, remmicks odd behavior or was it yours? This was all too much to digest. You sit up from your bed abruptly standing no longer being able to force your eyes shut to pretend sleep. Hours have already gone by. A glass of warm milk would ease the nerves.

You didn't want to waste anymore time putting a small metal pot over the kitchen stove and fetched the milk pouring no more than a cup and putting the white gallon back in its designated space. With a repetitive tick the flames came to life putting in the work to heat up the milk. You sigh, the nightgown you had on was very weightless, soft and borderline sheer but breathable. It allowed the air from your bedroom fan to save your overheating skin in the night. The sudden feeling of your hairs sticking up from your arms and neck have you holding yourself in a hug. Face darting left and right to find anything to explain the cause but only the endless darkness is to find. You grumble turning off the stove not caring if the milk was treading the fine line between cold and warm. You chug it, big gulps no complains, it wasn't that usual warm feeling that traveled through your intestines just bland mildness. You slam the cup down having to drag your forearm to remove some of the excess. Sleep. Now go to sleep, your bedroom. You take steps to go back, the lights being right before the stairs working in your favor. Once you you hear the click your vision returns to being useless. Mind set on one goal finally catching sleep but a shuffle very soft that could be easily missed if not paying attention makes you freeze in place. There's an urge to turn but you tell yourself to keep going on your way for your own sake. Eyes forward move forward. You don't though, instead you slowly twist your head behind you out of curiosity. It was the same sentiment as being adamant on seeing a spider hiding below your bed instead of living in blissful ignorance and pretending its presence wasn’t there. Except this wasn’t a 8 legged friend. You were seeing eyes glowing back at you as clear as the stars in the night sky. They weren't a beautiful shinny white, odd green or blue like a wild animal.. no a menacing blood red. This should've sent you flying up the stairs but they're hypnotizing persuading you to stay a little longer. It doesn't move making sure you know that it sees you too. With the obscurity of the lack of light you can't make up much apart from its eyes, too far away near a window to even see if the creature was inside the 4 walls of your home or outside. A light breath leaves your soft lips, you could feel the blood rushing in your veins the way your pulse beats. Hesitantly you turn yourself back towards the stairs. This time you do what you told yourself, what you should’ve done in the beginning. Walking up you forbid yourself from looking back, making your way back to your bedroom you finally crawl back into the cold sheets. Your Dazed, staring at the ceiling while pinching your own arm to make sure you weren't in a dream. You were convinced you had officially gone insane. Nightmares are one thing, hallucinations are another. Must be the lack of sleep. You landed on that excuse and finally after a few long dragged minutes you felt the heaviness of your eyelids stars to weigh themselves down. You let it consume you but peace didn't follow.

There's a thud making shuffle but it doesn't sound loud enough to make your eyes open wide. Just squint until inevitably you groan, choosing slumber over worrying. Sleep.

A whisper tingles the shell of your ear . A breeze makes you shiver subconsciously clutching the sheets to keep you warm. That masculine voice around your ear is back again wrapping around your brain like a blanket of safety and security. Something slithers inside your inner thigh, caressing, teasing the supple skin making your breath hitch. It was soft and felt so right. You craved more, opening your body and soul up to the feeling letting it climb up and take as it pleased. No hesitation just need. An offering is what you were, letting it build a home inside, beneath your skin, allowing it the privilege to consume you. And it did, a sharp sting your mind can't even process correctly develops somewhere in your body. A sound comes from your mouth but was it from pleasure or pain?

Your eyes scrunched, a groggy moan ripping from your throat out of frustration. The bright day light hitting your cornea forcing you to wake. Whilst sitting up you crane your neck back and to the side feeling a temporary relief. You shut your eyes, smiling from feeling so free. Even if you were sleep deprived there was some sort of energy helping you feel content. Opening your eyes you pulled the covers off, standing, it isn't till your changing clothes you feel a cold sweat invade your body. While lifting the weightless satin dress you see two bigger than normal bites on your wrist. You could've brushed it off as a bug bite, some spider but you knew that for it to hold validity the spider would've had to been a huge tarantula and craving human flesh or blood. You feel your eyes water, this wasn't caused by a human or animal. So like some afraid child you quickly make haste putting on the necessities skipping brushing your hair and run out of your room ignoring a light stench in the air because your father was of greater concern . It wasn't long till mid day surely he'd be downstairs. "Papa..?" You hesitantly speak once in the living room but only silence greets you. In desperation you go to grab the back door to check outside and you find it unlocked. It was already a weekday today you had forgotten, he was probably at work probably came home and left, that would explain the unlocked door. But he if made it home he would've woke you up early. He hates when you oversleep. There's many thoughts racing in your head as you pace back and forth. You'd just go to the last place you knew he had probably visited, the town.

The roads hug your shoes as you walk by the side walk. As each person passes by you ask if they have seen your father describing him even trying to show them a a picture from home but they all either ignore you or seem far too uninterested. You had wrapped your arm tightly with a bandage to cover your bite which you couldn't help but tug on. It was creating an uncomfortable friction. There was a familiar sign across the street the likes of the people were much kinder there, Genevieve was a great example. But you knew you father wouldn't be caught dead on the other side of the road let alone in a shop full of "foreign useless people". So You go inside the white owned shop instead knowing he'd surely buy his liquor here. While going in you hold the door open for a woman and her child, the child mutters a cute thank you which you try to reciprocate with a 'your welcome' but the mother gives you a nasty look tugging them away.

You stand there at the entrance a bit weary as you finally have to face the many side eyes people were giving you. A particular man stands out who was walking your way, a smile comes up to your lips, rehearsing your lines in your head but he makes contact with your shoulder roughly instead. There's a slight clench of your heart at this, but he goes on as if nothing, paying the cashier for his booze and leaving. Your left there looking stupid and lost. The past days had been miserable leaving you with little will. Should've gone home-should've just waited and stayed home. As you're beating yourself up you don't notice the cashier coming from his side of the counter to you. His kind eyes looking at you snap you out of your thoughts realizing he greeted you, even with a stutter you greet him back. "Is there someway I can help you?". The first person to ask, you try your best to not let your voice wobble, "I- yes.. I'm trynna find my father he's missin' ". He's listening to you muttering out a small, "that's terrible". " it is haven't seen him for days n' I've gotten concerned. But he's usually along these parts of town especially durin' the weekends so I'm sure someone has spoken to or atleast caught sight of him" while your rambling you don't see how he's luring you outside, using the fact you were following him to his advantage. His expression is one of understanding or so you thought, "look I'd really love to help you just can't be bothering the people in there". "I wasn't- that wasn't my intention I.." you realize what he's doing now, feeling the heat of the sun once more. There's a pause in the conversation both of you staring at each other. He simply tilts his head in 'I don't care what you got to say just leave I'm trying to be nice'. Then someone calls out to you from behind with cheerfulness, it isn't till you turn you see finally who it is. "Haven't seen you round' no more how has your chicken coop been?". Her warm voice provides some instant relief from the stress. You allow Genevieve to envelop you in her arms. You even squeeze a little tighter. "Don't come back near my store again or it won't be pretty" the sudden hostile voice of the once delightful cashier leaves you a bit angry but you don't voice it.

"It be best if we go back to mines," she grabs your hand leading you to the other side of the road but you dig your feet in the ground not letting her. Whatever it was inside you or around you it was always following not so behind form your last step. You didn't even know if whatever had bit you was contagious so even with her oh so soothing hand consoling yours you abruptly let go. "I can't.." she turns confused, "what do ya mean you can't?". The top of your teeth catch your bottom lip in a nice grip. For once in your life you wished she wouldn't be so caring so tender and concerned for your well being. "What's wrong?" Yet another question of hers that meets no answer instead you slowly add space even if it's a just a few centimeters. She sees the picture of your father in your hand and the way your eyes were on the brink of tears something was undoubtedly wrong.  "Girl don't be silly with me now n' answer me" she grew loud frustrated with your silence garnering attention from the townsfolk. Your hand fumbles with the edges of the band around your wrist. If she just knew maybe she could help me I wouldn't have to deal with this alone. It happened so fast her hand tugging the cloth , you pulling away in attempt to prevent it from slipping away revealing the two puncture wounds that were now accompanied with purple and yellow hues. You can't help but gasp slapping the skin, covering it with your hand desperately looking around.

Genevieve's eyes were wide a look of disbelief or was it fear overtaking her face? She had heard the murmurs of creatures far beyond the physical realm from her ancestors. When the two people from town went missing it was all the people around her could talk about . The creature with sharp teeth, serpent split tongue Who's diet consisted of consuming human blood.  It seemed far fetched but it was all true and now one of her dearest friends have come in contact with the being and bitten. Under her breath she whispered, "vampire".

You felt exposed like Eve had felt under the gaze of the lord in the garden of Eden; Shame, guilt and Alienation all in one. When you feel the cold tear run down your hot cheek is the moment you start running ignoring the calls for you to stay. The adrenaline pumping from your heart makes you run miles, with no brakes just your legs pushing till they finally make it to the only place that seemed to cause all these problems. Your home, but you don't go inside. Instead you go to your chicken coop wanting to be enveloped in its darkness, the constant patter of the chickens feet simulating a tune and the smell of pleasant must. It reminded you of Remmick. He'd surely come home soon and rid you of your worries, destroy the chaos. You sniffled into your shoulder, cowering like defenseless animal in the corner of the chicken coop. The small gurgles of the chickens offer you an environment to be able to sleep even if it was just pretend. You lose track of time, sun finally setting and wake up when you can't catch a break from the chickens pecking at your skin. The stiff chips of wood stick to your skin but you don't mind releasing them as you stand. With the small creak you stumble outside praying to find your pops car out front and his harsh voice reprimanding you for not having cleaned the house so you could erase the anxiety running rapid through your body as a terrible dream. There's no sight of any of those things though just the lousy cicadas in the night air.

Psst. The noise made you whip around only the darkness present. "Hello?" You speak daringly into the void of the night, heart thumping. "Still gotta work on the not jumping like a little rabbit every time ya'r scared" you can let out the trapped breath in your chest as you see a very care free remmick walk up to you from the outside of your fence. You would've gone to him in an instant if it weren't for the two people behind him. Noticing your hesitance to get closer he experimentally spoke, "brought some friends with me too if you don't mind". They were smiling warmly at you but it felt so empty, their faces reflecting that of the nullified night surrounding them. "Remmick-" you were about to tell him to make them go away, that you just needed a moment alone with him. The whole day you had been waiting. Though picking up on your distress he caught you off guard asking a rhetorical question, "is it the nightmares again?" . You foolishly try to answer "yes but-". "Well your in luck that's why I brought my good ol' couple from in town to try n' cheer ya up" as if on que the 3 of them readied their instruments ignoring your protest and they started playing. It was harmonic very beautiful but to you in this moment it sounded like sharp metal scratching on another metal surface. Undoubtedly Irking your soul. "I picked poor robin clean" the 3 of them sang at the same time but in 3 different tones that came together skillfully. "Picked poor robin clean". You bit your lip in bubbling anger their voices becoming more irritating than their instruments by the second. Certainly you'd explode into a fit of rage, we'll that was until the next line, "picked his head, I picked his feet, I woulda picked his body but it wasn't fit to eat". Their joy, their genuine smirks especially Remmicks when singing those words unnerved you. A jolly tone with odd words that traveled down your spine "oh I picked poor robin clean...

they continue, their words fade out in your head eyes unfocusing as you get sucked into the back of your mind where your thoughts remained. You didn't want to believe it or even consider the very fact that the young couple in-front of you could be who the towns people had whispered about like some sort of myth. If they were what was Remmick doing with them? Was he the one who terrorized them and their babe? your mind recalled many of the times you had found his behavior odd. He only met you in the darkness of night, disappeared during the day, he was the only one who had access to your home. The bruise on your arm he hadn't even pointed it out. He was innocent you pushed back against your thoughts. And you would prove it.

As their song comes to an end stillness hangs in the air. Remmick stands there waiting for you next move. Realizing how guilty you looked you tried to cough the hesitance stuck in your throat. "I never caught y'all's names". Having all 3 of their eyes on you felt like you were back in the town. Except this time it was much more carnal like predators surrounding their prey.  You shift on your feet, remmicks demeanor changing as he leans into the fence form the outside. The couple doesn’t answer just staring ahead as you hear Remmick chuckle, "well.. this right here is Joan and he, he's Bert". You feel your heart drop to the earths core at this revelation, face full of alarm. you try changing it but God knows it's far too late. He notices and knows that you know.

"Took ya so long" your confused at his words but he doesn't waste a beat to quickly diminish your doubt. "I was startin' to think that little brain of yours wasn't good for much". You're unsure if to be offended and hurl a venomous insult back or cower away . His body defies gravity for a second as he lifts himself over the fence standing between the both of you far too easily. "W-what did you do?" There's still hope inside you that this was just a big understanding. "What I do to them .. or to you?" He nudges his head behind him then to you. His eyes trailing up and down your frame until getting stuck on your wrist. This time you don't cover your wound unlike back in town. When his eyes finally lift themselves to yours you see them shine a deep red. The same deep red that tournamented you yesterday night and dreamed about belonging to that creature who sucked your thumb feverishly while his mouth was covered in your blood. A dream. you can't help the way your chest starts to constrict, eyes stinging. He lets out a cold laugh faux concern, "oh please don't cry doll I'll love it too much n' I'll just be forced to make more pretty tears come out of ya." As he takes a step forward you take a step back. It becomes a twisted game he enjoys while teasing your desperation. The sadistic way he showed worry yet loved your helplessness left you disheartened with the idea of this going back to normal. The way things had been when you met him"Stay away.." your voice is weak and wobbly, hands coming up to signal his halt. He doesn't listen leaving you back to the fence as your hand touches his chest. Remmick wasn't a tall man just average but when he got this close to you it made him feel giant. "Thats not what you wanted last night" his empty breath hits your face, an act you may have yearned for before but not anymore. There's a shudder running through you as he presses his body into yours, his leg between your thighs inching your skirt up. You turn your head in shame, knowing exactly what he meant. Despite the mental acknowledgement of the danger this man posed your body still desired him responding eagerly.

He thrived seeing you like this the woman so poised and respectful he had met in tears from her own disgusting desires. An infection he grew to become, corrupting not just your thoughts but body, mind and soul. Nothing could sadate his carnal lust just like you but he wouldn't get ahead of himself yet.

His hand drags your sight back to him with only a finger on your chin. Your pliant submission was back but out of fright not real trust. This time you notice his appearance change again apart from his peculiar eyes. The clear, thick liquid seeping from the right of his mouth. Spit. And the sharp fangs his k-9's became as he smiles at you. It clicks in your head the last words Genevieve had muttered out to you "vampire". You expect him to take a bite to end your life but instead he takes a step back leaving you to fend your weight against gravity. "Should go see if daddy's all good upstairs, haven't seen him out here all day" his voice drips with sarcasm. You take a step back expecting him to play with you more but he doesn't. While you slowly walk away, opening the fence door you take one final look behind him. The couple he had came with was still behind the fence sitting idly by as if they were hypnotized.

When your a good feet apart you dash inside and up the stairs having to fight the growing stink in the house especially when you reach the second floor. "Papa!" You call out to him , the hall seeming too dark and longer than usual. There was the adrenaline rushing through your veins that urged you to be faster . As your warm hands grab the handle of your father's room opening it wide the stench of death hits you before the sight. You have to cover you mouth from the smell and absolute horror. There was blood all over the walls, bed his body and his head... it didn't seem quite attached to the rest of him. Eyes wide in shock staring directly at you as if he had kept the face from probably seeing the monster Remmick was. You didn't let yourself see the specifics of the plethora of wounds on his body slamming the door shut. You have to fight the gag trying to push its way out from the bottom of your stomach. A light headedness winds you as your walking away hand over your stomach from the unsettling scene you had witness forever engraved in your brain. One wrong step as your going down the stairs has you tumbling down. You grunt and let the tears you have kept at bay finally spill rushing down with no limit. You weakly get up close to the kitchen table where the liquor from the morning still laid. Your heart clenched at the reminder of this bottle always being around your dad's hand along with his pestering. He may had grown rude and absent for most of your life but he would always be your father. The man who once was a child who did wrong but was still half of you. You bite you hand in an attempt to get rid of the overstimulation of your lymphatic system. Not caring if it drew blood. "The sadness will subside, will weaken with time. sacrifices must be made for freedom".

Your mood soured hearing his voice. He sounded like a fucking preacher what was he now your savior? Is that what he tought. That he had been doing you a service murdering your father like some wild animal with no dignity? There was an unexplainable fire starting to build in your chest. "I can offer freedom that never dwindles, never ceases to exist. Ya won't be anyone's caged bird anymore-". With not another thought you let your instincts take over swiftly grabbing the almost empty liquor bottle and swinging it behind you. He doesn't for see your sudden action not moving out of the way fast enough all you hear is a big thud. The bottle still gripped tightly your hand with no crack. His head is turned toward the direction of your swing, eyelids twitching as he seemed to be taking in the hit. You stand fiercely a mere a feet or two away. You expect anger a violent action back in response but instead he chuckles condescendingly. "you’re letting anger cloud your judgement doll" . You wished you would’ve never been nice to him, never let him in your home and watched him rot out in the wilderness. “Let that go” he commands seeing the way your grip on the bottle doesn’t lessen. “No..” your eyebrows furrow “ya just don’t get ta decide things for me, y-ya can’t just do this ‘didn’t ask for any of this! ” even through the sadness is still evident in your body, you still find your voice. His words your genuine protest made him displeased . He had seen you marble at utterly anything normal, his instrument, himself and the way you responded so sweetly to his touches. You were a bird in a cage. Your father had willingly created your life to revolve around him and he had simply given you the choice now to be with him instead. Were you just plain ol’ stupid? “Ya needed this, I saved you from your helpless nights, the endless chores, the boring ol’ cycle of your insignificant’ life became”. This is when you see him start stomping over to you with a glint of fire behind his eyes. “I didn’t need no saving” you spit out while your lower back was pressed on the floor able. He calms down before grabbing a hold of your jaw before uttering out, “oh my sweet little dumb thing, you do”. Those crimson eyes slice through your wrath realizing no matter how much you protested there was no way out of your predicament. No matter the many ways you sliced it he couldn’t be moved, like some heavy boulder restricting your path. “You all do..” his sharp nails dig into the skin of your cheeks making them sting. There’s a small but heavy knock at the front door that doesn’t make him react just letting your calmly go. Retracting himself from you he watches as you wrestle with the choice of opening the door or not. His look was forbidding but would require trust from you which he had run out of. It was ultimatum that hung in the air without being said , ‘open the door and your reject him or leave it be then open your arms to the sweetness of “salvation” ‘

Another heavy knock seeming more desperate had you turning and directly heading to the door not caring for Remmick any longer. You weren’t sure who you were quite expecting maybe a passer by, another stranger. “You had me stressing’ girl why’d ya not answer fast enough?” Her honeyed voice and her careful glance was such a contrast to the way you looked now. “My lords heaven’ what happened to you!” Genevieve tries to come inside and grab your cheeks now decorated with little droplets of blood streaming down. But you semi close the door on her not completely but just enough to stop her from coming in. “Gene you have to leave- you can’t be here” your hands shakes on the door knob. You didn’t want her to be affected by the consequences of your own actions. Seeing how far it got you father you didn’t want her to meet his same fate but she didn’t listen. “Look I know what I did back in town was horrid I truly apologize for that.” Every time you try to open you mouth to interject she elongated her sentence. “ I came here to make things right to make sure you okay and to say I can help you I know-“ she’s caught off being pounced on like animal by something or someone out of your line of sight with a thud. You were about to react until a hard hand comes to the door from your side slamming it loudly closed. All you are left to do is be willfully tormented by her screams of agony as Remmick locks the front door. “Promised my ol’ couple some food, they were just hungry as dogs” he says this sentiment with sort of lightness, even letting out a small ‘woof woof’. Your stomach twists in disgust and terror having to create distance between the both of you.

He tsk'ed in disappointment at your choice. Noticing your desire to push him aside he doesn't shy away from twitching his upper lip to show you his gnarly fangs. "What a shame I really did like Genevieve" he mocks you slowly moving forward. Another blow to the muscle pumping in your chest called your heart wetting your dry cheeks once more in tears. What would you say to her husband and her kid if you walked away alive. You wouldn't have the courage to look them in the eye and tell them about your cowardliness. How you watched their mother die whilst you were inside in the comforts of your home.

With a scream you rely on instincts jumping on Remmick . This time he expects your fit of violence being able to take your arms in his grasps. You try pushing and pulling to break free but nothing budges. He wasn't a big man so why in the hell could you not be strong enough to fight his hands? It looked like a dance you both were having with your twisting and turning making you really live out the ambiance of a juke joint wild but free. It isn't until your able to kick him that your able to make him loosen his grip to break away. His rough voice calls out as you dart to the kitchen trying to find something to arm yourself with,"All this fightin' wont end up pretty for ya" you ignore him now scowering the plethora of eating utensils in the cabinet. "givin' ya a warnin' you should really heed darlin' " his cockiness, the pet names is what you wanted to wipe clear from his face forcing his mouth to never speak again. You turn to face him standing in the middle of the room with a knife. Shiny and anything but dull. His eyes seem to light up at the thought of you wielding such a dangerous object. Not a spec of fear in his nonexistent soul as you walk up to him eyebrows furrowed, a scowl on your face and all. "Don't be silly and give me that thing" He had played this game before long ago. Your genuine hatred was being conveyed in one single long look, fingers clenching in dire need to cause damage. He extends his hand up for you to lay the knife in his hand to submit.

Instead once you're close enough with no hesitation you pierce his hand not just slashing but digging it in until you could see it from the other side. With haste you twist it back at him so the sharp metal is now threatening his chest. With a burn in your thighs and all your might you push forward successfully overtaking any attempt of a protest to your attack. There's a loud grunt from him as the fact the knife dug deeply into his upper chest. It's quickly overtaken by the fact he loses his balance, back against the small sofa sending him backward into it and taking you along with him. Somewhere while taking the fall you let go of the knife to protect yourself instead.  Winded you try to catch your breath looking over to the side you realized you had missed the edge of the coffee table by an inch. What terrifies you is seeing Remmick stand up, his unwounded hand grabbing the knife handle twisting out of his chest and hand simultaneously with a squelch. You think this is when he’ll get his comeback digging the knife into your heart as he stands above you. Bracing yourself your eyes close but instead you hear the cling from the knife being thrown aside. His Hands coming to the collar of your blouse lifting you up with no difficulty and harshly sending you crashing into the coffee table. The glass breaks instantly some of the wood creating a hard surface to simulate a hard punch to your gut. “Thought you’d be different but you’ve got a fire that never dies just like your mother”. He’s out of breath as he speaks and when he mentions the woman you have never met you wish nothing more than to commit cold blooded murder. Your hands extend in-front of you carefully to attempt to lift yourself up but his foot comes to press down on the skin on the other side of your palm. “she wanted nothin’ more than to desperately live that’s what made it so much more excitin’ to snuff her out”. You cry out in agony as the pressure of his foot causes specs of glass to carve a home into your palm. He decides it’s enough when you pathetically paw at his shoe. You’re able to take a glance at the disgusting wound before you’re being dragged from your collar again. No care for the way the destroyed table poked and burns your knees or body. He brings you all the way up to the wall facing the front door and forcing you on your feet. Your knees are giving out but he makes sure to hold you in place steadily by your neck

“What do ya desperately want hmm?” He teases with a tap to your cheek as he watches you became the defenseless rabbit he knew once again. Red teary eyes defeated just accepting what would be made of you just like your father and Genevieve. This sight arouses him inching his face closer he breathes onto you obnoxiously, “could’ve had so many delicious nights with ya stuck on my mouth oh do I miss your heavenly taste” you spit at him for talking about you as some sort of object. Realizing all those “dreams” you believed to have had were nothing of the sort. Just your mind trying to make sense of events happening to your sleeping body to warn you of the violating creature you’re ashamed to call a man infront of you at your wake. His wet muscle slides out from his mouth, tongue split in two like some sort of serpent to lick it up from the side of his cheek. A big grumble of satisfaction form his chest. “Now I need me some more”. His lips come to yours not in the doting way you expected your first kiss to be but hungry and lustful. You fight against him the sloppy kiss making spit smear all over your lips. Your teeth chomp down in order to make him stop biting his lip , hard.

he curses letting your neck go sending your sliding down. You thought of fighting again or fleeing but your body was far too tired. So instead You're stuck in place fighting the heaviness of your eyelids and tasting the irony substance in your mouth. He squats down infront of you with a lip decorated in red.

Forced you are to look at the man before you that you once considered a friend, dare you say lover, finding him to be completely unrecognizable. He fixes your sweaty blood specs covered hair whilst grazing your cheek tenderly like he had done a few happy summer days ago. "Every time you wake up in the mornin n' take a breath of fresh air, maybe even while looking at the sun setting with a child on your hip" he starts. The once gentle hands griping the back of your head, hair and all, harshly craning your neck back. You can't even let out a whine properly without your lungs hurting . " 'want ya to remember ya don't get to do that because ya were brave or strong enough" he can't help but grumble at the sentiment of you believing these things about yourself. His tone grows dark as he hushes the final dialogue onto you like something sacred only for you and his ears only.

"no ....it's because I allowed you to"

he licks a long stripe up your cheek relishing your sweet blood before he abruptly lets go of your head and leaves you helplessly on the ground. His light steps barely even leaving a track of sound in your ear drums as he opens the once closed door. He walks over your dead friends body only her legs visible from your spot. His body isn't tense, instead he strolls away with a pep in his step, the hat you had given him on his head and you can faintly hear him hum that song. Pick poor robin clean. As if it were a regular Monday night. As if he hadn't turned your life upside down just for fun. The couple from earlier appear from the sides of the door covered in blood Bert taking a hold of one of Genevieve’s weightless legs. Joan give you a smile and a wave with her sharp canines before they start walking away your friend dragged in the dirt along with them. You reap the consequences while Remmick was walking away Scot free. Your heart burns, skin boils, face scorns, mustering up all of your strength you let out a scream of pain, anger and agony all at once. Not caring if it scratched your throat painfully. He keeps moving unfazed until his body is a mere spec in your vision. Your Pathetically Left behind feeling the ache in your bones deep inside, the blood oozing out of your body the stinging tears trailing down your sliced skin. Choosing the mortal cage called your human flesh.

You knew he'd always be hiding in the shadows of the night, waiting, and in some twisted way that brought you comfort.

Authors note: this was so long in the making! I I tried my best to interpret the character of Remmick to the best of my abilities without having seen the movie. I apologize for any spelling mistakes and if you asked to be tagged but weren’t it’s probably because your acc didn’t show up when I tried tagging you. Apart from that I enjoyed writing this and I hope y’all enjoyed it too! :)

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Tags: @duckyhowls @seashelleseashellsbytheseashore @thecutestaaakawaii @akumazwrld

[cbeargyu]

ALL FOR HIM ♡

summary: you were just the shy girl everyone picked on—until jaehyun stood up for you. from that moment on, you couldn’t stop thinking about him… and when he finally takes you, right there at school, you let him do whatever he wants. because he’s jaehyun. and you’re his.

pairing: popular!jaehyun x shy fem!reader

genre: smut, bullying, possessive love, obsession, breeding kink, slow burn.

warnings: smut, bullying, explicit language, dirty talk, titjob, blowjob, breeding kink, public setting (school), possessiveness, emotional manipulation, oral sex, explicit descriptions of sex, dominant/submissive dynamics, unprotected sex (implied), masturbation. reader has big tits.

wc: 5,1k

you were used to it by now. the whispers, the laughter that wasn't quite hidden, the way your name passed between lips like a joke, something to smirk about. it had started freshman year and followed you like a curse ever since — a quiet, intelligent girl with a full chest and too much silence to defend herself with. you didn’t talk back. you never did. they liked that. it made things easier for them.

you had been trying to get to your locker that day, clutching your books to your chest, eyes on the floor as usual, when one of them blocked your path — tall, loud, one of the usual assholes, with a stupid grin on his face and a crowd behind him.

“what’s the matter?” he laughed. “books too heavy for your big-ass tits to carry?”

you winced, shoulders curling in, trying to push past, but he stepped closer, towering over you. someone else behind him snickered. you hated the way they looked at you — like your body was the only thing about you that existed. like your face didn’t matter. like you were just... meat.

and then, it happened.

a loud thud — the sound of a basketball slamming into skin — followed by a sharp grunt of pain. the guy in front of you stumbled back, clutching his nose, blood already dripping between his fingers. gasps filled the hallway. you blinked, stunned, just in time to see him.

jung jaehyun.

walking toward you with the kind of calm that could only come from someone who knew his power. he was tall, strong, with broad shoulders and that clean-cut look everyone in school adored — uniform perfect, tie loose around his neck, the sleeves of his shirt rolled just enough to show the veins in his forearms. and god, that face. that beautiful, unfairly symmetrical face. smooth skin, sharp jawline, soft eyes, and a smile that had dimples deep enough to drown in.

“get lost.”

he didn’t smile now, though. his eyes were cold.

“you deaf or just fucking stupid?” jaehyun asked, voice low and dangerous as he stepped right up to the guy who had just been mocking you. “i said get lost.”

no one moved.

jaehyun tilted his head. “do i need to break your nose again?”

the guy muttered something and scurried off, dragging the others with him. no one dared to stay. jaehyun had that kind of pull — not just popularity, but respect. he was the star of the basketball team, the top of the class, the golden boy. he never caused trouble, but you just knew that if he did, no one would ever dare challenge him.

when the hallway finally cleared, you realized you were still frozen. still clutching your books like a shield.

jaehyun turned to you then, and the sharpness in his expression melted instantly. he looked at you like you mattered. like he saw you.

“you okay?” he asked, voice soft now, warm like sunlight.

you nodded, too shocked to speak.

he crouched slightly to pick up the notebook you hadn’t even realized you dropped, and when he handed it to you, your fingers brushed. his skin was warm.

“listen,” he said, eyes locked on yours, “if anyone ever fucks with you again, you tell me. i’ll deal with it.”

you stared at him, heart pounding, face burning. you’d never had anyone say something like that to you. no one had everstood up for you.

“thank you,” you whispered.

and he smiled. not a polite smile — not the kind he gave teachers or classmates — but a real one. soft and open, the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners and his dimples sink deep into his cheeks.

“anytime,” he said, and then he was walking away, basketball back in his hands, spinning it lazily on one finger as if nothing had happened.

from that moment on, he was everywhere. or maybe you were just seeing him for the first time.

every time he stepped into the classroom, spinning his ball, that same lopsided smile on his face, your heart clenched painfully in your chest. sometimes he’d catch your gaze and wave, and you’d feel your breath hitch, cheeks turning pink as you quickly looked away.

you started writing about him. not because you wanted to — you needed to. your notebooks were full of little pieces of him. how his eyes turned into crescent moons when he laughed. how he always tapped his pencil against the desk when he was thinking. how he’d tie a black headband into his hair when studying, pushing it back to reveal his perfect forehead, his sharp brows, his devastating focus.

you wrote about how he always smelled like clean soap and faint cologne. how he bit his lip when he concentrated. how he always sat with one leg bouncing slightly, headphones in, completely lost in whatever music he was listening to.

you wrote about how good he looked in uniform — shirt crisp, blazer fitting him like it had been made for his body, tie loose just enough to show the curve of his neck. you memorized the way his throat moved when he swallowed water after a game, how sweat clung to his temples, how his chest rose and fell under the fabric when he caught his breath.

and sometimes… when you were alone… you let yourself write the filthier parts, the ones you’d never say out loud. the ones you weren’t supposed to think about. how it would feel to have his fingers inside you — those long, beautiful fingers that handled basketballs and pencils and textbooks with such easy precision.

you couldn’t stop. you were obsessed.

the dreams were getting worse — or better, depending on how you looked at it. every night, your brain pulled you into a fantasy soaked with heat and desperation, and he was always at the center of it. jung jaehyun. kissing you senseless in an empty classroom, whispering things that made your toes curl, pinning your wrists down while his mouth did sinful things to your body. sometimes he’d press you against the lockers, sometimes he’d have you on your knees in the locker room, his voice low and breathless, calling you pretty while he ruined you.

you would wake up flushed, sheets tangled around your legs, thighs slick and sticky, chest rising and falling like you had just run a marathon. you didn’t know how to stop it. you didn’t want to. you were too far gone, too deep in this obsession. you thought about him when you were brushing your teeth, when you were walking home, when the teacher said his name during attendance and your heart would stutter painfully in your chest.

he was inside your head, in your notebooks, in your fucking dreams.

and then came the moment — so small, so brief, but it set your entire soul on fire.

you had been organizing your books after class, everyone else already rushing off to lunch, when you felt a presence beside you. your heart jumped in panic, thinking it was another one of the bullies, but then you heard his voice — calm and warm like a quiet summer afternoon.

“you always stay behind?”

you turned your head and there he was, leaning one arm against the locker next to yours, a lazy smile on his face.

“uh… sometimes,” you answered, your voice barely audible.

he chuckled softly, dimples forming. “you’re always so quiet. it’s kinda cute.”

and then, as if he hadn’t just completely set your whole world upside down, he straightened up and walked away, hands in his pockets, tossing a casual, “see you in gym,” over his shoulder like it was nothing.

but to you, it wasn’t nothing. it was everything.

the image of him calling you cute looped in your head like a broken record, every word replaying with different meanings. you couldn’t eat. you couldn’t breathe. how were you supposed to sit through a full gym class with him now?

the next day, the coach had you all out on the track for timed sprints. full laps around the court, the sun already high and merciless.

“four laps,” the coach barked. “let’s see if any of you are faster than last week.”

jaehyun, of course, was at the front — smooth, effortless, like running didn’t even tire him. he finished in under four minutes, barely breaking a sweat, his black shirt clinging to his back, his arms flexing with every movement as he jogged to a stop and checked his time.

you, on the other hand, were dying. you hadn’t even finished your second lap and already your lungs were burning, your legs threatening to give out, your hair sticking to your face in humid strands. you ran like a baby deer — clumsy, off balance, desperate to just finish.

you could hear the laughter behind you.

“jesus, look at those things bounce,” one of the guys snorted, pointing. “they’ve got more movement than she does.”

you didn’t have to look back to know they were talking about your chest again. your face burned with shame, but you didn’t stop. you kept running — slow, pathetic — wishing you could disappear.

from the sidelines, jaehyun had been sipping from his water bottle, head tilted back, sweat glistening along the side of his neck. the moment he heard the voices behind him, his smile faded. his eyes narrowed.

he turned — and then he saw you.

struggling to keep pace, chest heaving, arms barely lifting. and, fuck. he hated himself for it, but his eyes slipped down. just for a second. just long enough to catch the way your breasts moved with every step, pushed up tight against your gym shirt, too big to be ignored.

he looked away fast, jaw clenching, swallowing hard. he hadn’t meant to do that. you were you — the quiet, sweet girl who wrote notes in class and blushed whenever he waved at her. but his body didn’t care about intentions. his palms suddenly felt hot.

and then you stumbled.

your knees gave out mid-step and you crashed to the floor with a soft cry, your hands catching you just barely before you face-planted. a burst of dust rose around you as your body trembled, trying to get up, but you just coughed, hunched over, chest rising and falling like you couldn’t breathe.

jaehyun didn’t hesitate. he was already running toward you, weaving between students, dropping to his knees in front of you.

“hey— hey, are you okay?”

you blinked up at him, dazed, tears pricking at your eyes from the embarrassment and the pain and the heat.

he reached for you gently, one hand on your waist, the other on your shoulder, steadying you as you tried to sit up. your forehead pressed against his chest for a second, and that’s when it happened — your body tilted forward, and your breasts, full and warm, pressed flush against him.

jaehyun stiffened, just for a second. you felt the tension ripple through him, the way his breath caught in his throat. but he didn’t move away. he kept holding you, focused on your face.

“don’t move too fast,” he murmured. “breathe first.”

you nodded, barely hearing his words over the rush in your ears. you could smell him — clean sweat and soft cologne and something uniquely him. you could feel his arm tightening just slightly around your waist, the strength of his grip making your stomach flutter with heat.

you felt dizzy. not from the fall — but from him.

he took you to the infirmary himself. one arm wrapped around your waist the entire way, supporting your weight, even though you swore your knees were about to give out for a completely different reason. the nurse gasped a little when she saw you, ushering you inside quickly. she cleaned your hands first, then your scraped knees, the sting of antiseptic barely registered against the pounding of your heart. she gave you a bottle of electrolyte water and laid you down on the cot, drawing the thin curtain half-closed around the bed. jaehyun lingered near the corner, arms crossed over his chest, brows slightly furrowed with worry.

“you’ll be okay,” he said quietly, more to himself than to you.

the nurse told him he could go, that you’d be taken care of. he hesitated, then finally turned to leave. but just before slipping past the curtain, he paused and looked back at you.

your lips parted. you wanted to say thank you, to tell him how much it meant to you. but your throat tightened. your mouth wouldn’t move. so you just stared, wide-eyed and grateful, as he gave you the softest smile and walked away.

that image of him—turning back just for you—haunted you the rest of the day.

now, the school was silent. the sun was beginning to set, painting orange stripes across the dusty floor. you were sitting in the very back row of the empty classroom, in your regular uniform again, knees together, hands on your lap. your wounds still stung faintly beneath the bandages.

you weren’t sure why you hadn’t gone home yet. maybe you were waiting for the hallway to clear completely. maybe you were waiting for your heart to calm down. maybe… you were just hoping.

when the sliding door suddenly slammed open, you flinched, body jerking in surprise.

“y/n?”

you turned and saw him—jaehyun, standing at the doorway, his bag slung lazily over one shoulder, eyes widening when he saw you still there.

“what’re you doing here?”

you swallowed, clutching your skirt tightly. “i… i was just waiting… for time to pass,” you mumbled.

he blinked. “huh?”

you shook your head, embarrassed. “nevermind… what about you?”

he walked down the row toward his desk. “forgot my books.”

you watched him crouch, reach under his chair, and pull out a pair of thick textbooks. he dusted one off and sighed, then straightened up and turned toward you.

“guess i’ll see y—”

“wait.”

you stood up quickly, heart hammering in your throat. he paused mid-step, looking at you curiously.

you took a deep breath, walking slowly toward him. “i… i didn’t get to thank you properly. earlier. at the infirmary.”

his face softened. “you don’t have to—”

“but i want to,” you interrupted. “you’ve always helped me. since the beginning. you defended me. you smiled at me. you… you noticed me, when no one else ever did.”

he seemed confused, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “it’s really not a big deal…”

you stepped in closer, until you were right in front of him. your hands came up, trembling slightly, fingers curling around his forearms. he went still.

“let me show you how much it means to me,” you whispered.

your voice was soft but firm, and for the first time in a long time, you looked him straight in the eye. your gaze must’ve shaken him, because his breath caught, lips parting slightly.

you saw it clearly—his pupils dilated, his throat working in a hard swallow, his fingers twitching where they gripped his books.

he nodded. just once.

you dropped slowly to your knees in front of him. his books thudded quietly to the desk behind him, and his hands hovered awkwardly in the air as he stared down at you, his cheeks beginning to flush a soft pink.

“w-wait… you don’t have to—”

“don’t run away,” you said gently, undoing the button of his pants. “please… just let me do this. for you.”

your fingers slipped inside his waistband, tugging his boxers down just enough to free him. his cock was already semi-hard, twitching slightly from the anticipation. you wrapped your hand around it, stroking slowly, feeling it grow heavier, thicker, until it stood hard in your palm.

“fuck…” he whispered, barely audible.

you leaned forward, brushing your lips against the tip before pressing a soft kiss to it. his hips jerked subtly, the sound of your lips parting filling the space between you. you opened your mouth and took him in slowly, inch by inch, until your nose brushed his skin.

he gasped above you, both hands flying to your head—but he didn’t push, didn’t move. he just stood there, mouth slightly open, watching you with wide, stunned eyes.

you began to bob your head gently, hollowing your cheeks, tongue curling under him every time you came back up. soft, wet sounds filled the classroom.

“ah— shit— y/n…”

you looked up at him through your lashes, and he visibly trembled.

after a few minutes, you pulled off him with a soft pop, your hand still stroking him slowly. then, with shaking fingers, you reached up to unbutton your blouse.

he swallowed thickly as your shirt fell open, revealing your soft pink lace bra—delicate and low-cut, barely containing your breasts.

“jesus christ…” he whispered.

you reached behind and unclasped it, letting your full breasts bounce free. his eyes darkened instantly.

“you’ve… thought about this, haven’t you?” you asked softly, taking his cock again and pressing it between them. “thought about these tits around your cock?”

he couldn’t even speak—he just groaned, his hips twitching forward involuntarily.

you spit lightly on your cleavage, then sandwiched him between your breasts, squeezing them together, watching his shaft disappear into the softness.

“so big,” you whispered, beginning to move. “you’re so fucking hard already… is it because you like my tits? you always stare, don’t think i don’t notice… dirty boy…”

“f-fuck—”

he was a mess, jaw slack, hands digging into the desk behind him for support.

“does it feel good? fucking my tits like this?”

he nodded helplessly, eyes locked on the way your breasts bounced with every movement.

“gonna cum for me?”

“y/n, i— i can’t—”

you smirked, speeding up, pressing your chest tighter around him.

“do it, jaehyun. cum for me. give it to me. right on my tits— on my face— anywhere you want…”

that was it.

with a loud, choked moan, his hips bucked one final time and he came—thick spurts landing hot across your chest, your neck, and the corner of your lips.

you closed your eyes, letting it paint you, sticky and warm, your own thighs rubbing together beneath your skirt from how insanely turned on you were.

you looked up at him, covered in his release, breathing heavily.

and jaehyun just stared—like he’d never seen anything more erotic in his entire life.

his breath was still ragged when he looked down at you—your chest heaving, the mess he made still warm across your skin, your lips slightly parted, a satisfied, sinful little smile tugging at the corners. you looked wrecked, ruined, and yet—so eager. so ready for more. he didn’t even realize he was moving until his hand wrapped firmly around your wrist, tugging you up with surprising strength.

“jaehyun—?”

you barely had time to speak before he spun you around and pressed you down against the long table behind you. the wood was cold against your thighs, but your skin was on fire. his grip on your wrist loosened only when your back hit the surface, and then—then both of his hands were on your waist, pushing you higher onto the desk, sliding you into place like he knew exactly where he wanted you.

his eyes were darker now, focused. his lips were parted, but not from surprise—no, this was hunger. and you couldn’t breathe. your whole body shivered, because for the first time, jaehyun wasn’t soft, or shy, or hesitating.

he was taking.

you looked up at him, pupils wide and glassy. your hands slid behind you, propping yourself up as your legs instinctively fell apart—slow, deliberate—an offering. your skirt rose high on your thighs, barely covering anything anymore, and jaehyun’s gaze flickered down, locking on the sight of your glistening underwear. he stepped forward, and the bulge pressing against his boxers brushed right over your clothed heat.

“fuck,” he muttered under his breath, almost like a prayer.

his hands went to your knees, gently pushing them even wider apart. his body settled between your legs perfectly, and when he leaned down, you could feel the pressure of him—still hard, already twitching again—grinding slow and steady against your soaked panties.

“you were waiting for this, weren’t you?” his voice was low now, rough with need. “you wanted me to lose control…”

you whimpered, nodding, your hips rising slightly to chase the friction.

“you’re so wet already,” he murmured, dragging his fingers down your inner thigh before pressing against the soaked fabric. “fuck, y/n… this is all for me?”

“yes,” you breathed, voice trembling. “always you…”

his lips crashed onto yours—not soft, not tender, but needy and desperate. you melted into the kiss, moaning when his tongue slid into your mouth, his hand already curling under the hem of your skirt, tugging your panties aside to feel how soaked you truly were. his fingers slid through your folds, teasing, barely dipping inside.

“god… you’re dripping…”

his cock rubbed against your bare slit now, still restrained by his boxers, but so hot and thick you could feel every ridge and pulse. you rolled your hips instinctively, wanting him, needing him.

“please…” you begged against his lips, eyes fluttering shut. “i want you… jaehyun, i want you so bad...”

he kissed you again, deeper this time, groaning into your mouth as his fingers dug into your thighs and spread you wider on the table.

and then he whispered against your lips, voice wrecked, trembling—

“then let me fuck you like you deserve.”

you barely had time to react before jaehyun gripped your waist tighter and pulled back just enough to free himself. his cock sprang free—hard, thick, flushed dark at the tip, slick with your spit from earlier. your mouth parted at the sight, eyes wide, pulse rushing so loud it almost drowned out the sound of your own breathing.

he didn’t tease. didn’t ask. he just looked at you—those deep eyes locking onto yours—and pressed the fat head of his cock right against your soaked entrance. you gasped, thighs trembling around his hips, and when he pushed in, slow but steady, your nails scratched at the wood of the desk beneath you.

“fuck—so tight,” he groaned, jaw clenched as your walls swallowed inch after inch. “you were made for this, weren’t you? made to take me like this.”

your body arched, lips falling open in a silent moan as he bottomed out—so deep you swore you could feel him in your stomach. your fingers reached up blindly, gripping his shoulders, needing to hold onto something as he started to move, rolling his hips with a rhythm that made your breath hitch.

“ah—jae... fuck, you're so deep...”

“yeah?” he panted, one hand sliding up your side, gripping your throat just enough to hold your focus. his thrusts quickened, sharper now, every stroke hitting that spot that made your vision blur. “you like this, baby? you like me fucking you open like this?”

“yes—yes, please, don’t stop—”

his mouth dropped to your neck, lips hot and wet as he kissed, licked, then bit, groaning into your skin as you clenched around him. your legs wrapped tighter around his waist, hips lifting to meet every thrust, desperate, unhinged.

he didn’t slow down. couldn’t. your cunt was so wet, sucking him in, and the sounds between you were filthy—skin on skin, your moans mixing with his curses, the desk creaking beneath you. he pulled back to look at you again, hand still on your throat, his thumb brushing over your jaw as he whispered against your lips:

“you want it?” he asked, voice low, shaky. “want me to cum inside? fill you up like the dirty girl you are?”

your whole body shuddered. you nodded, gasping as your nails dug into his arms.

“yes—yes, please, jaehyun—cum in me, fill me up, i want it so bad,” you moaned, voice breaking. “please breed me... i want your cum inside me, i want you to make me yours, fuck a baby into me—please—”

his hips stuttered.

“fuck—say it again,” he groaned, pounding into you harder now, rougher.

“i want you to get me pregnant,” you cried out, tears pricking the corners of your eyes from how deep he was. “i want it, i want all of it, fill me up—don’t pull out, please, jaehyun—”

he lost it.

with a guttural growl, his hand tightened on your waist, slamming into you with everything he had left. your thighs trembled, body twitching as he fucked you through the most intense orgasm yet—your vision went white, walls spasming violently around his cock.

“fuckfuckfuck—i’m gonna cum—” he choked, slamming into you one final time and staying there, buried to the hilt. “take it, take all of it—fucking take my cum—”

his hips jerked as he spilled inside you, hot and heavy, pulse after pulse of thick, messy release flooding your walls. you moaned loudly, holding him close, feeling every twitch, every drop leaking out around his cock.

he stayed there, breathing hard against your neck, both of you drenched in sweat and panting like you'd run a marathon.

“god…” he whispered, lips brushing your temple. “you feel so good. i don’t ever wanna stop.”

you smiled, blissful, dazed, and fucked-out beneath him.

his cock was still buried deep inside you, twitching slightly as your walls fluttered around him, still trying to recover from the last orgasm. your body was limp beneath him, warm and soft, and your chest rose and fell with heavy, satisfied breaths. but jaehyun didn’t move away. he didn’t even pull out. instead, he cupped your face gently, brushing damp strands of hair from your cheek, eyes locked on yours with a hunger that hadn’t faded in the slightest.

“you okay, baby?” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw.

you nodded slowly, voice gone, lips swollen and parted as you blinked up at him with hazy, blissed-out eyes. you could still feel his cum inside you, thick and hot, slowly dripping out around where his cock stayed snug inside your soaked pussy. the sensation alone made your thighs tremble again.

“you’re so fucking pretty like this,” he murmured, thumb stroking your cheek as he rolled his hips—just a little. it made you gasp, your hands clutching at his arms. “laid out for me… stuffed full of my cum… god, i can’t get enough of you.”

“jae…” your voice was barely there, breathless.

“shhh, baby, i know,” he said, voice thick, low, almost reverent. “i know it’s a lot. but i need you again. just like this. slow, yeah? just let me feel you. let me keep you full.”

he started to move—deep, slow thrusts that had your mouth falling open all over again. every stroke dragged his cock against your walls in the perfect way, the mess between your bodies squelching with each push. he groaned when he felt more of his cum leaking out, and he angled his hips to press deeper, like he was trying to put it all back in.

“fuck—look at this pussy,” he growled softly. “so greedy… you’re still sucking me in like you never want me to leave.”

you whimpered, arms wrapping around his neck as he leaned down, kissing you tenderly. the kiss melted into something wetter, more desperate, your tongues tangled while his hips rocked slowly against yours.

“i don’t want you to leave,” you whispered against his lips. “i want more… want it all, jaehyun.”

his hand slid down your side, gripping your thigh and lifting your leg up to press your knee against your chest, folding you open more. the angle made him hit even deeper, and you gasped again, body arching under him.

“yeah?” he smirked, panting against your neck now. “you want me to fuck another load into this tight little cunt? want me to knock you up right here on this fucking desk?”

“yes—please,” you moaned, your voice cracking from how desperate you were. “give me everything again… want to be full, want it dripping out of me all night—”

“fuck—fuck, baby,” he cursed, fucking you harder now, his control unraveling again. “i’ll do it. i’ll breed this pussy until you can’t walk. make you mine. no one else is ever gonna get this. no one’s ever gonna touch you like this again.”

you cried out, gripping the edge of the desk as the pace grew heavier, the sound of skin slapping echoing off the empty classroom walls. you felt him throbbing inside you again, the pressure building so fast you couldn’t hold back.

“please cum inside—please, jaehyun—wanna feel it again—wanna be yours—”

that was all it took.

he slammed into you one last time and came with a loud, broken groan, spilling deep inside you again, hot and heavy, filling you completely. your body clenched around him, milking every drop, and you came with a sob, burying your face in his neck as your whole body shook.

he stayed there for a long time, cock still buried inside you, both of you panting, stuck together by sweat and cum and something even deeper. his hand gently rubbed your hip as he kissed your temple.

“you’re mine now,” he whispered.

and you smiled, because you already were.

you were still trembling when he finally, slowly, pulled out, and you both watched the thick mix of your juices drip down your inner thighs, pooling beneath you on the desk. he helped clean you gently, his touch careful, almost reverent, as if he didn’t want to hurt you now that your body was all sore and sensitive from how many times he’d used you.

you reached for your crumpled uniform, cheeks burning, fingers fumbling with the buttons of your blouse as you tried to fix yourself. your bra was slightly damp, your thighs sticky, your knees aching—but your heart… your heart was thudding with something deeper, fuller. you could still feel him inside you. your chest was tight with warmth, overflowing with something you hadn’t dared to name before now.

jaehyun leaned against the desk, watching you quietly with a lazy, satisfied smirk, his hair messy, lips a little swollen. he looked so unfairly perfect—just like always. but this time, you knew what those lips tasted like. you knew how his voice sounded when he moaned your name.

just as you finished adjusting your skirt and were smoothing down your sleeves, he stepped close again, towering over you with that same presence that made your knees weak.

his fingers tucked your collar into place, brushing your skin in the process. he looked into your eyes, so deep, so intense it made your breath catch.

“don’t forget,” he murmured, voice low, possessive, with a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips, “you’re mine.”

you bit your lip, heart pounding all over again. “i know,” you whispered, looking up at him with stars in your eyes. “i don’t want to be anything else.”

he kissed your forehead softly, and your heart melted on the spot.

you were hopelessly, completely his.

[everrinsly]

paris x gen best friends with benefits vibes.

car trouble with rin. smut. nsfw. mature. mdni. fem!reader. | not proofread.

more reads!

~~~~~

You tried. You really tried to be good for your boys, picking them up after practice in a little lavender sundress, two pretty bows in your hair, all sweet and shy.

But now, the car was parked on the edge of the highway home. Windows fogged, a burning heat caused by three athletes in the backseat.

And really...

You really tried to be good for Rin. To warm him like a good girl. His good girl.

But he was so deep inside you. So thick. So hot. And every time his chest rose beneath your cheek, every time you breathed him in, a scent so spicy and all-consuming, your body ached.

You twitched once. Hips shifted slightly. You whimpered. And then—gods help you, you sweet little thing—you bounced.

Just a little, a lift of the hips and a soft plap down.

Just once.

But it was over.

Rin’s hands gripped onto your waist like iron clamps, nearly enclosing around your tiny circumference. Shit, did he want to ruin you.

His breath hissed through clenched teeth, head tilting back against the seat as he growled low in his throat.

“Oh—fuck.”

You gasped. “R-Rin—?”

“You said—” he snarled, voice trembling as he dragged you closer, his cock pulsating deep in you, “—you’d be good.”

“I—I’m sorry—I'm so—ah—sorry, R—Rin!”

“Too late.”

He snapped his hips up.

You screamed, clinging to him, nails scrapping over the blades of his shoulders and the base of his neck. His pace turned feral. Brutal, unrelenting, messy. The whole damn car was shaking, your dress hitched around your waist, chest bouncing with each hard thrust. The necklace that Karasu gifted you, glinting between the valley of your breasts, going up and down and up and down.

“Fuck, angel,” Karasu whispered from your left, wide-eyed and breathless, brushing sweaty hair off your temple. “You look so pretty like this.”

“She’s gonna break,” Shidou muttered from your right, licking his lips. He eyed the intimate part of where you and Rin connected. “She wants to fuckin' break. Don't you, doll? You wanna get ruined by Rin, yeah?"

Their hands were everywhere. Karasu kissing your shoulder, running fingertips along your collarbone. Shidou's mouth was on your neck, down your chest, hands sneaking to the underside of your ass, as he groaned against your skin.

Rin was snarling, his control shattered, his voice low and ruined against your throat.

“You wanted this,” he hissed. “You started it, sweetheart. You don’t get to fuckin' cry now.”

Your moan broke into sobs, gasping for air, the coil in your stomach tight and burning.

“I—I didn’t mean—ah—!”

“Yes, you did,” Karasu cooed. “You’re soaked, baby. You needed it just as much as us.”

Shidou’s tongue flicked against your nipple and you whined, back arching. “You’re gonna come all over Rin’s cock, huh? Gonna soak him while we watch?”

“I can’t—can’t—!”

“You will,” Rin growled, slamming into you, his voice ragged. “You’re mine. Let go.”

And you did.

Your entire body clenched, shuddering as the orgasm tore through you—messy, loud, helpless, and oh so wet. You sobbed out Rin’s name, burying your face in his neck as your body convulsed around him. Absolutely breathless.

“Fuck—” Rin murmured low and raspy, burying himself deep and spilling inside you with a raw, broken groan.

"Keep all of me inside, baby," he voiced all gravelly, rutting into you one last time. His tongue darted out to lick the sheen of sweat on your throat.

Shidou and Karasu were wrecked, watching, panting. Hard in their sweats.

And then Karasu pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

“Next time,” he whispered, lips brushing your skin, chasing the corner of your jaw, “you ride me.”

[matchpointfaist]

take it like a taker, cause baby i’m a giver! 🌾

cowboy! art donaldson x reader

tw for smut and kindaaaa cheating?? reader has a kinda bf but not rly!

every year, the rodeo brought dozens of boys into town, all southern drawls and catcalls across the bar you worked at, drinkin’ cheap beer faster than they could ask for it. there was a big event this year, drawing in all kinds of attention from sports media and more competitors than usual. the headliner, the main event, was art donaldson. he was unrivaled in the circuit, strong and quick enough to stay on until the very end, the best wranglin’ skills on his side of the mississippi. and god, he was gorgeous. you could tell he knew it, too, the way he walked around with a toothpick between his teeth and a lazy grin on his lips. that kinda man didn’t have to catcall, no. they came to him.

you tried your best to ignore him the way you ignored all the others, but there was just something about him, the sparkle in his blue eyes or the depth of his accent, his voice deep and words curled. whatever it was, you knew you were screwed as soon he leaned against your bar, the sleeves of his pearl buttoned shirt rolled up his elbows. “hey there, miss,” he smiled, the toothpick tight between his teeth, “how are ya this evenin’?” “i’m doin’ just fine,” you smiled in return, “what’ll it be?” “whatever you recommended, darlin,” it was cocky of him, but you couldn’t ignore the way your cheeks flushed at the pet name, “and what if i have bad taste?” you teased. “aw, cmon now. pretty thing like you couldn’t have bad taste if you tried,”

you busied yourself behind the bar, poured him a tall glass of shiner and slid it over to him with a smile, “there ya go,” “see? knew i could trust you,” he grinned around the rim of the glass, “what’s your name, sugar?” you told him, something you never did, “and yours?” “art. art donaldson,” he nodded, “in town for the rodeo,” “oh, i’m sure,” you nodded in return, “i’ve seen you on the flyers. famous, ain’t ya?” “aw, i don’t know about that,” he laughed, hearty and warm, “just won a few, that’s all. enough about me, though. what’s a pretty girl like you doin’ workin at this place?” “my brother owns this place, thank you very much,” you replied, sipping your water, trying to look away from his lips around the glass, “work here on weekends when we have these events, know how yall like to drink ‘nd all,”

“that’s sweet of you,” he smiled, tongue swiping along his bottom lip, collecting the droplets of beer, “how old are you, hm? look awful young to be hangin’ around all these old men,” “i’m 21,” you rolled your eyes, still grinning, “and you?” “26,” he told you, eyes trialing down to the v of your shirt just slightly, “that ain’t too bad,” “too bad for what, exactly?” you asked, resting a hand on your hip. “not too much older than you, that’s all,” he shrugged, a coy smile on his lips, “unless you like older men, then maybe i got a disadvantage,” “i’ll have you know i’ve got a boyfriend,” you couldn’t help but revel in the irritation that flashed across his face, “so it doesn’t matter much anyway,”

“yeah? where’s your boyfriend then, pretty? he let you stay out this late workin’ while he’s at home?” he asked, resting his chin on his hand, smug smile on his lips. “he’s in the kitchen,” you gestured to the window leading to the kitchen that only really produced questionable greasy food, “not that it’s any of your business, cowboy,” “oh, come on,” he groaned, “don’t tell me you went and fell for some kinda line cook, darlin. you need a real man, somebody that’s gonna take care of you,” “yeah? somebody like you?” you cocked an eyebrow, grinning. he didn’t miss a beat, “yeah, somebody just like me. how serious is it, you and that guy?” “mm, not very,” you shrugged, glancing away. “yeah, i’m sure,” he laughed, quiet and intimate, like it was just for you, “what is it, honey? you just mess around with him when there’s no one else around, huh? yall meet here and you settled?” he was dead on- he wasn’t your boyfriend, not really. you didn’t even fuck him, just made out with him after work when you had a few too many shift drinks, let him feel you up until you had enough, then you let him drive you home with false promises of ‘maybe next time’. but art didn’t need to know that.

“well if you ever want a real man,” he slid a napkin you hadn’t even realized he’d written on across the bar, “room 201, i’ll be here all week. i’m competing tomorrow, if you wanna come watch,” “you’re cocky, aren’t ya?” you rolled your eyes but took the napkin anyway, folding it up and tucking it into the pocket of your denim skirt, “maybe i’ll see you tomorrow, then,” “i hope so, darlin. you can be my good luck charm. if i win, you gotta let me take you out,” he winked, placed a $50 next to the empty glass, and left you feeling slightly dumbfounded as you watched him walk away. yeah, you were screwed.

you went down to the rodeo grounds the next day, all dressed up in your favorite gingham dress and boots, sipping a lemonade as you watched the boys compete. when art’s name was announced, the stands wend wild, stomping and clapping and cheering his name. you’d seen this place loud, of course, half the people were usually day drinking just enough to let go of their inhibitions and scream like no tomorrow. but this was a whole new level, like he was some kind of rodeo god, like he was gracing everyone with his mere presence. you could’ve scoffed- tried to, really, but then you saw him.

he was entirely in his element, perched atop a horse like he belonged there, his thighs strong and taut in his jeans as he led his horse into the ring. his hands gripped the reins, catching your attention even from the stands, lighting a fire inside of you. he rode with precision and grace, even as the horse bucked, even when anyone else would have fallen. it looked like a second nature to him, easy as breathing, the sort of relaxation that can’t come from practice. he somehow managed to keep his hat on the entire time, as well as a cocky, barely there little smile. it had you shifting in your seat, thighs squeezed together with each movement of his hands or toned arms. when it was all said and done, they announced the winners, and he was first in all categories. he accepted the awards with practiced graciousness, but you could see right through it. he knew he deserved them, knew he’d win. the ‘oh, you shouldn’t have’ act was all a facade, but it just made you fall even deeper.

that night, when everyone was out drinking and celebrating and making complete fools of themselves, you couldn’t keep your mind off of him. your fingers found the napkin you’d kept in your purse, art’s handwriting etched onto it, and before you knew it you were knocking on the door of room 201, your mind racing. your heart stalled when the door creaked open- art stood before you with just a towel wrapped low on his waist, beads of water dripping from his hair. “well ain’t this a nice surprise,” he grinned, eyes raking over your frame, “sure wasn’t expectin’ you tonight, darlin,” you tried to force your eyes away from him- from the planes of his chest, still shining from his shower, from the toned muscles of his biceps and the veins laying just under the skin. “you told me to come by,” the words came out slightly shaky, “but if now’s a bad time, i can-“

“now’s not a bad time,” his hand circled around your wrist, gently, but just firm enough to pull you inside. you huffed, cheeks hot, “what’re you doing?” “no sense in lettin’ a pretty girl wait around outside, is there?” he grinned, “come on, let me make you a drink,” before you could protest, he’d led you to the creaky hotel bed, turning away to retrieve something from the small kitchenette. he returned with two beers, sweaty with condensation, passing one to you, “so did you watch earlier?” you nodded, taking a small sip, anything to soothe your growing nerves, “yeah, i did. you were pretty good,”

“pretty good?” he arched a brow, “that’s all? you wound me, honey,” he placed a hand on his chest, feigning injury. “you don’t need me to tell you how good you are,” you rolled your eyes but smiled anyway, “everybody else already did that,” “well maybe i wanna hear it from you,” “cocky, aren’t ya?” your eyes fell to the towel still tight around his hips, “why’d you ask me to come here, art?” “come on, sugar. you’re smarter than that,” his hand rested on your thigh, warm and broad against your skin, “you know exactly why i wanted you here,” your breath hitched, goosebumps fanning out along your skin, “you just assumed i’d sleep with you, then?”

“saw how you were lookin’ at me,” his hand crept higher, slow but insistent, “tell me i’m wrong and we’ll just go back to talkin’, but i know what it looks like when a girl wants me, darlin’,” you couldn’t even deny him, you were helpless to it all. “you’re so full of yourself,” you mumbled, but you let him slide his hand under your skirt, let him kiss you like it meant something more than just a hookup. his mouth was hot and greedy, his self assurance apparent in the way he slid his tongue into your mouth, the way his free hand came to tilt your head back. you gasped when he slid his fingers underneath the cotton of your panties, pressing just lightly over your clit. “knew it,” he mumbled against you, “soaked for me, sugar,” he pulled you up into his lap, twisted you so your back was against his chest, your legs spread open as his fingers worked at your core, his kisses falling to your shoulder.

“look at you, darlin’, just fallin’ apart on my fingers. you still think i’m full of myself, hm?” he murmured into your skin, slowly sipping a finger inside of you, “god, you’re so wet,” “art,” it came out in a broken whine, your back arching against him, the lewd sounds of his fingers against you filling the hotel room. “i know it,” he cooed, “you gonna come for me, pretty thing?” your eyes rolled back as you bucked your hips against his hand, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you got closer, “god, yes,” he worked you through it, drew it from you like it was his one true calling, murmuring praises into your neck as you came down.

you caught your breath, shifting in his arms to face him, your hands coming to untie the towel around his waist. as you kneeled on the carpeted floor in front of the bed, his breath hitched, his hand resting on your jaw, “don’t have to do that, darlin’,” he sounded almost pained, his voice thick, “god, just let me fuck you, please,” he pulled you up into his arms again before you could protest, the towel discarded on the floor, his cock hard against your thighs as you settled in his lap. “you gonna ride me, baby, hm? play cowgirl f’me?” before you could answer, he pulled you down onto his cock, the breath leaving your lungs as he stretched you out, your eyes rolling back at the feeling, “there you go, darlin’, see how long you can take it,”

he didn’t let you do much of the work, of course. he was a man of his word, seeing how long you could stay on, fucking up into you hard enough to have you trembling and gasping, a moaning mess above him. “god, you feel so fuckin’ good,” he panted, his hands surely leaving fingerprints on your ass as he held you tight, “you like that, sugar? hm?” “yes, art, god yes,” you nodded eagerly, jaw slack, “feels so fucking good,” “prettiest thing i ever saw,” his jaw was clenched with the effort of not filling you up right there and then, his hips bucking desperately, “ridin’ me so good,” his hands left your skin just long enough to grab his hat from the bedside table, resting it on your head, your brows furrowing when you felt it. “oh, god,” he exhaled, “look so fuckin’ pretty wearin’ my hat, angel. yknow what that means, don’t ya?” his thrusts had gotten even rougher, his legs shaking, “means you’re mine,”

“oh, art,” you let out a high pitched moan as he slapped your ass, your skin stinging with the impact, “god, so close,” “yeah, there ya go,” he encouraged, his breathing ragged, “atta girl,” you clenched around him as you came, your nails raking down his chest, grabbing at anything you could to stable yourself as he fucked you incoherent. “god, sweetest fuckin’ pussy,” he groaned, grabbing your hips and fucking you on his cock, your breath coming out in short squeaks, “gonna fill you up, y’want that? hm?” you nodded, too far gone to speak, squeezing him tighter at the thought. “yeah, knew you would,” you could practically hear the smirk on his lips, but it was quickly replaced by a broken, desperate moan. his thrusts grew sloppy and erratic, and soon he was coming undone, filling you up, hot and wet and making you even more needy. “oh, fuck,” he panted, catching his breath as he slowly settled you in his lap, his hands soothing over the skin he’d slapped, “so good, darlin’, good lord,”

he held you that way for a few minutes, still inside you, until he slowly slid you off of him, hissing softly at the loss of contact as he pulled you onto his chest, his arms circling around your back. “should clean up,” you mumbled into his chest, sticky with sweat. “yeah, in a minute,” he murmured into your hair, “just wanna hold you like this,” when you finally cleaned up, he was soft and attentive, the two of you grinning and blushing under the hotel shower head like you hadn’t just done something much more intimate. you spent the night, even though you told yourself you wouldn’t, let him tell you all his old rodeo stories until you fell asleep against his chest. you could get used to it, you told yourself. maybe too easily.

[softlymellow]

The Order Forgot Me First - Chapter 6

☆⁠ PAIRING : Anakin Skywalker x Reader

☆⁠ word count: 3.3k

☆⁠ story themes: lovers to enemies to eventually lovers

☆⁠ warnings: spoilers to swtcw, angstttt

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

"...he almost remembered what it meant to him. Except he didn't. Instead, it was a taste from a dream he couldn’t quite remember."

A dimly lit mission room deep within the Jedi Temple, Anakin Skywalker, Obi-wan Kenobi and Mace Windu gathered around a holographic display. The hum of the holographic offered a soft backdrop to their conversation. 

“Many reports of two skilled bounty under the names ‘Ani’ and ‘Dev’ have been causing disruptions across various sectors.” Mace Windu sternly said whilst Anakin gulped at the use of a name he hasn’t heard in a year. “They have slipped through the Republic forces on multiple occasions.” 

Obi-wan leaned forward, “two bounty hunters causing this much trouble? That's unusual.” 

“Indeed. But their methods have grown more aggressive, even by bounty hunter standards. What is more concerning is Dev. ” Mace Windu tapped the datapad and the holographic image flickered to life, a materialised image of a young boy no older than 15. 

“But that’s only a boy.” Anakin furrowed his eyebrows at Mace Windu, confusion evident on his face. 

“Once a boy, yes. He was once a skilled Jedi, dismissed from the Order for the refusal to adhere to the Code. His descent began when he lost his family and, in a fit of anger, slaughtered civilians. Dark tendencies grew within him.” 

Anakin stiffened immediately and felt a foreboding feeling grow in his stomach. Obi-wan's expression darkened beside him. “A former Jedi turned bounty hunter with such a violent past…It’s troubling.” 

“And what about this..Ani?” Anakin reluctantly asked. 

“She is a much newer addition to the bounty hunting world, but she has proved to be some sort of a prodigy. They were just spotted on Corellia after a bombing to capture Dengar, another well known bounty who worked with Maul and Savage to capture me.” Mace Windu informed them, turning off the holograph. 

Obi-wan frowned, concern etching lines on his face. “We’re going after two bounty hunters? Isn’t that more of a job for local security forces in Corellia?” 

Mace’s gaze shifted from Anakin to Obi-wan, “You both are uniquely skilled in dealing with unconventional situations. We need to contain them before they both spiral out of control.”

Anakin’s jaw tightened, resolve evident in his eyes. “Understood, Master Windu.” 

Obi-wan nodded in agreement, his focus unwavering. “We’ll head to Corellia immediately.”

“Good. May the force guide your actions.” Mace Windu stood tall. 

—

Anakin and Obi-wan sat in the ship en route to Corellia. Neither had spoken a word, just eyes drifting at the stars that illuminated outside. 

Dev.

Ani. 

Not their real names. It wasn't hard to miss the amount of blanks throughout their whole file. Dev's one gave a general consensus though; a disobedient Jedi Padawan, now a runaway. But the latter… No image. No backstory. It was as if she only existed a few months ago. 

Anakin ran a hand through his hair, teeth gnawing the inside of lips. His eyes lazily read the datapad in his lap. A boy stared back at him. Dev. Just 15 years of age in the image, younger than the recent sightings of him. Much younger. His eyes looked hollow, already hard. Like part of him had lost something but was never filled again. 

“Nothing on the girl?” Obi-wan asked beside him, still gazing out the window, but deep in thought. 

Anakin inhaled, his chest rising against his robes and shook his head. “Nothing. Her name is clearly a placeholder, but no record of her.” Anakin turned off the datapad. 

“She is either very smart,” Obi-wan murmured, “or lucky.” 

Anakin leaned in his seat not liking either answer. “What business do they have blowing up a civilian square in the middle of a Corellian protest?” 

Obi-wan stroked his beard, “I’d say they are after another bounty hunter. Denger I assume. He was spotted here the night before.”

“So they try and bring him in, only to level half the plaza in the process?”

“Looks like it.”

Scoffing, Anakin dragged his hand down his face. 

Outside the ship, Corellia was a mess. Alarms sounding through the cities, smoke darkening the skies and protest fires on the rooftops. What was usually a beautiful planet is now filled with protests against the war. 

Once the ship doors opened, Anakin and Obi-wan were hit with heat. Not physical. But tension. Soldiers and civilians buzzing through the streets, it was as if they weren’t at a docking platform. 

“Well, it seems like we have your day cut out for us.” Obi-wan muttered as they made their way down the streets, glancing at the protest signs abandoned on the floor. “No Justice, No peace” was written in Corellian dialect. 

Burn marks scattered around the floor piquing Anakin’s interests. Crouching down, his fingers gently grazed the soot left, leaving his fingers darkened. 

“There was a bombing,” Anakin concluded, spotting several pieces of metal scattered around the floor. 

Obi-wan nodded, "the security reports said they did vanish into the crowds before troops arrived.” His eyes scanned the crowd up ahead. “I’d say our perpetrators are there.” 

That annoyed Anakin more than it should have. 

“Then we’ll start there,” Anakin said. 

— 

Corellia bled with fury and fight. 

Anakin walked ahead, his hood drawn low and his feet dragging along the concrete, stones skidding away. He wasn’t really in the mood. Trying to find 2 cloaked figures in a sea of more cloaked figures wasn’t exactly ideal. After 2 hours of dead ends, he kept replaying the grainy footage hoping it would offer a clue. 

On the other hand, Obi-wan walked behind being Obi-wan. A calm diplomatic Jedi master. He was always asking the right questions to the right vendors, nodding and being friendly. His warm voice made people eager and more keen to offer tips. 

“I spoke to the surveillance clerk”, Obi-wan broke the silence, catching up to Anakin. “He said the crowd tripled after the bombing, half running to shelter and the other protesting even more.” 

Anakin stopped in front of a sign that read “THE REPUBLIC DOESN’T SEE US”, the edges of the banner burnt. 

“Give it a few days and then the Senate will fix this with a speech.”

Obi-wan’s face hardened, “Well it is the Senate’s job to do that.”

“It shouldn’t be.” Anakin muttered, leaving Obi-wan dumbfounded. Did he mean that the planet should fend for itself, fixing its own politics? Or did he mean that the Senate was useless, giving out speeches with no real backlayer. Maybe a bit of both. 

Obi-wan pursed his lips, his eyes scanning the buildings that now had a layer of dust covering it. Walking was starting to get irritating as every few seconds a person would nudge their shoulder with their own, making them lose focus every few seconds. 

That’s when Anakin saw it. 

Small smears of red on the cobblestone wall. Dried and just there. Followed by a few more droplets that painted the floor into an alley. 

Anakin crouched down taking a further look, gaining Obi-wan’s attention. 

“Blood.” Obi-wan hummed, stroking his beard thoughtfully. 

“Might not be theirs.”

“Still, we are Jedi. Whoever blood it belongs to may need help.” Obi-wan advised. 

They followed the trail that led to a rusted backdoor. Anakin didn’t hesitate. Immediately pushing past the door as it creaked loudly. 

It was dim inside. 

And in the corner was an elderly Twi’lek couple. 

Anakin and Obi-wan both flinched, least expecting to break into a home. 

The couple sat on the floor, a blanket engulfing their lower body and a half-crushed medpac that rested near their feet. 

Obi-wan immediately put his hands up in defence, “We’re not here to harm you.”

The couple's eyes traced both Anakin and Obi-wan’s figure, their eyes flickering between the saber’s that rested on their hip and their defensive face.

Noticing that they haven’t said anything, Anakin used the opportunity and stepped forward, the woman clutched her blanket a bit tightly. 

“We’re investigating the bombing that happened here. Do you know anything about that?” 

The male shook his head, his blue tentacle like tendrils moving with him, “N-no.”

Obi-wan moved up with Anakin, realising that they can speak Basic. “A young man with blonde hair and a cloaked girl. Does it sound any familiar?”

The couple stiffened. 

Silence. 

Anakin folded his arms and furrowed his brows, “they came here. Didn’t they?” His tone lowered. 

Silence. 

“They paid you.” Obi-wan spoke calmly, already analysing the situation. 

The purple woman looked down, and then gently picked up the half used medpac, her hands shaking. 

“The girl…was worried.” Her voice was soft spoken. “Not for herself, but him. He was bleeding.”

Obi-wan crossed his arms, parallel to Anakin and stared down the medpac. “So you helped them..”

“It is not a crime to help someone!” The man besides her called out defensively, squinting his eyes. 

“Well it is a crime to help terrorists,” Anakin muttered, but loud enough for everyone to hear. 

“Terrorists?” The woman's eyes widened. “They were terrorists?”

Obi-wan glanced over to Anakin and tried to laugh it off, not wanting to send the couple into cardiac arrest. “Well. We aren’t sure of anything.” He tilted his head. “Do you know where they are now?”

The older woman nodded speedily,  “She said she was heading to the city square where the protests are. Near the farmers market. But..she was scared.” 

Anakin lifted his brow, “of what?” 

Looking him dead in the eye, “being seen,” she announced. 

–

Obi-wan and Anakin were on the outskirts, just enough steps to see the masses of bodies that moved. 

Protestors moved, some shouted and some watched. It wasn’t long before Obi-wan caught a flicker. 

A flicker of gold that was reflecting from the sun. Moving too fast. An uncomfortable limp. 

Obi-wan’s eyes widened and locked onto the figure. Blonde hair. Broad shoulders. It was worth a shot. 

“That might be him,” Anakin huffed, already making his way down, eager to end this mission.

Obi-wan rolled his eyes, “Always ahead of the game,” he said, racing down the steps and into the crowd. 

It was suffocating. You could feel the sweat and anger that radiated off the bodies. 

Obi-wan pushed through bodies, wanting the man to enter a clearing before holding him in the masses of people. Locals were yelling in languages he didn’t recognise which only intensified everything around him. His cloak constantly was snagging on someone’s arm but he didn’t stop, pushing through, curses were flying at him.

He needed an opening - just one - and it would be fine. 

Something is off. 

The force rippled. 

The blonde headed man suddenly turned his head towards Obi-wan.

It was him. It was Dev. 

And not far behind him was a cloaked figure. Her. 

Dev locked eyes with Obi-wan, his eyes widening and stray locks of hair falling on his face. 

“Jedi!” Dev exclaimed to you, his eyes darting between behind you and yourself. 

Without even taking a chance to glance behind you, you began to push through the crowd. Gritting your teeth, you used your arms to almost shove people out of the way. You could not be caught as a bounty hunter. It was not necessarily the legality of it, it was the bombing that was associated with you and it was your honour shattering that you have been reduced to this much. How low the galaxy forced you to crawl just to survive. 

Just a little further. A  little further and there was an opening and you got yourself out of this mess. 

“Dev! Over there!” You barked, pointing towards the clearing. Dev nodded and attempted to make his way out with his limp. His face pale but understanding. He always understood. Understood you. You didn’t need to speak much for him to completely understand you. 

You surged through the crowd with all your might. Suddenly hyper aware of the blaster at your side, your fingers grazed it, ready to use if anyone tried touching you. 

Relief. Oxygen. As you finally made it out of the crowd. Your hands were shaking but you didn’t stop, you can’t stop. 

And then- a shove. 

Dev’s body slammed into the ground right where he was supposed to make it out and the Jedi tackled him to the side. You heard him grunt in protest, his wrists pinned and the right of his face scraped against the ground. 

Before you could react and turn back to Dev, you heard the hum of a saber. 

Right behind you. 

What should I do?

Fuck. 

They’re getting closer. 

Your lungs feel like they could explode and your chest hurts. You’re running so fast. Any of that relief you had just felt from making it out was gone. Dead. You just felt like you were burning. Your veins pumping with adrenaline – hot and sharp and screaming. 

You didn’t dare look behind you. If you did it would slow you down immensely. 

But it didn’t matter. 

A rough hand –bigger than your own– pulling on your forearm, throwing you down, your hood falling in the process. Without another second to think your free arm gripped onto your vibroblade. Having been pulled down to the ground, you shifted your body to meet the Jedi, your blade coated in cortosis weave and pointing up towards said person. 

.

..

…

“Y/n?”

It was like time stopped. 

You locked eyes. 

Your mouth fell open. 

His did too. Confusion. Bewilderment. Shock. All on his face. 

His voice… Sounded different. Quieter than you remembered. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t hateful. Just quiet. Broken. 

Your right hand weakened and the blade fell down on the floor besides you, the metal clanging against the concrete. Your palms fell on the floor and you found yourself staring at…Anakin above you. 

Anakin staggered back, stunned, as if he was shot straight through the heart. His head shook slowly and ever so subtly but in complete disbelief.

No one said anything. You couldn’t hear anything. It was just you two. Two broken people. The force felt electrifying, like it was rippling and pulling both of you towards each other. 

Anakin loomed over you, the deep blue of his saber still humming, but pointing towards the ground. His own arms feeling too weak to even lift it. His face was unreadable. His dark brown hair looked longer, almost below his ears. His eyes…tired. Like he was staring at a grave. 

It wasn’t until the other Jedi came out, holding Dev in handcuffs that you realised your situation. It was Obi-wan, of course it was. Of course it was Anakin and Obi-wan who would catch up to you. Dev struggled in defiance, his face discontent. 

Obi-wan walked up beside Anakin, and then his eyes fell on you. 

“Y/n?” His voice was quiet, like he wasn’t sure if this was real or not. “You’re Ani?” 

You looked away from him, pursing your lips in shame. What were you supposed to say? You weren’t supposed to be caught, stripped of your mask. You were just supposed to be Ani. Not Y/n. 

You swallowed hard, your fingers soft in comparison to the floor. You were now looking up to both Anakin and Obi-wan but –force– you felt so much smaller than you actually were. 

Anakin inhaled sharply, his saber hissed off yet his grip strong enough that his knuckles were still white. Running a hand through his hair, he turned his back to you, moving away from both you and Obi-wan. You felt the disappointment in the air. You felt the judgement from the people who you used to consider the closest to you. Anakin turning his back to you after a year said more words than he did.

But he could feel his heart hammering against his chest.

thump

He was suddenly hyper aware of his breathing.

thump-thump

The way he wasn't sure what to do with his empty left hand.

thump

The fact that his knees would buck in any minute.

thump-thump-thump

It felt like everything was swirling around him and he needed to ground himself.

However, Obi-wan walked over to you, crouching down to eye level. You noticed the small things in his face, the way he had worry lines on his forehead, a slight frown, and furrowed eyebrows. He wasn’t looking at you like a master or a commander, but a concerned friend. 

“Y/n, you became a bounty hunter?” He asked. 

You didn’t know how to respond. What were you going to say? Yes? Well, yes you are. But suddenly you felt embarrassed. Ashamed. 

“I…” You croaked out. 

“You know them?” Dev called out, struggling against his cuffs. All three of you diverted your gaze to Dev.

Dev broke Anakin from his trance, his need to distract himself hitting him harder than ever. He needed to redirect his attention to something else just like he was doing for the past year. Anakin stood still for a moment before grabbing the back of his shirt, replacing Obi-wan but far too aggressively.

“Hold her.” Anakin said to Obi-wan, forcing his voice to be strong. “We’ll take them somewhere else.”

That’s it? That’s all he’s going to say? 

Anakin spoke as if he didn’t know you. Like you were some lowlife smuggler. Obi-wan even felt caught between two worlds. Was he supposed to disregard your history together? Or would he hold you accountable? 

Clearing his throat, Obi-wan pulled out stuncuffs from his satchel, looking at you as if you were a wounded animal. 

“I’m just going to put these on just for now. Precaution.” He said softly. 

Nodding, you slipped in your fallen vibroblade to your belt and slowly brought out both your arms in front of him. Obi-wan hesitantly and carefully attached the cuffs to your arms.

Click. 

Immediate discomfort radiated in your arms, the restraints tightening specifically on your wrists.

You looked up at Obi-wan who you could tell was uncomfortable with the situation. 

“I’m fine, Obi-wan.” You tried to reassure him. 

Obi-wan nodded, inhaling deeply before getting up. Scrambling to your feet against the concrete, you rose and immediately felt smaller than you were. Now seeing both Obi-wan and Anakin in their usual height, it felt different. Like there was a rift between you three.

Looking over at Anakin, Obi-wan scratched his beard. “We won’t be able to fly tonight. It seems the city's protests will make it difficult to get out slyly.” 

Without a response, Anakin began to drag a cursing Dev to Force knows where. 

Obi-wan followed behind him but distant enough, making sure you were keeping up. 

The walk felt excruciatingly long as there was nothing but pained silence. Every now and then you could feel Obi-wan’s gaze drill holes in you. Anakin said and did nothing but hold onto Dev and try to find an abandoned place for the night. You were lucky enough Obi-wan still trusted you to allow you to walk on your own. 

It wasn’t until he broke the silence. 

“Are you okay?” Obi-wan spoke in a hushed voice, trying not to gain Anakin’s attention but that was naive thinking. Anakin heard everything when it came to you. 

You blinked at the question, unsure what to say. Your throat tightening but you forced out an “I’m okay.” 

Silence. 

A beat passed. 

“Are you?” He asked again but much quieter. He knew your response and he knew not to expect an answer but if he didn’t ask now it would eat his conscience later. 

“Yeah. Just tired.” Anakin’s grip tightened on Dev, their boots scraping and their clothes shifting pulled your focus. 

The sky began to set and orange rays stretched far and wide. Dipped in dusk and every step you took would create long shadows of the three of you. The chants from the protest began to fade and street lights began to flicker on. 

Anakin was a walking storm. He was silent. You missed the way he said your name. It sounded like honey -warm, golden- like he almost remembered what it meant to him. Except he didn't.

Instead, it was a taste from a dream he couldn’t quite remember. 

Anakin stopped at a stone-framed building. Abandoned, yes but still intact. The door had its hinges, there was no lights except from the windows and no lifeforms either. Without saying a word, Anakin dragged Dev inside, the door creaking open and they vanished into the unknown.

You and Obi-wan stood in silence. 

“He’ll be alright.” He said gently, not exactly sure if he meant Dev or Anakin. Nodding, you stepped inside first, the evening wind biting your skin. Obi-wan followed right behind you. 

A/N: YAAAY ITS HAPPENED im sorry its kinda on a cliff hanger ik yall want longer chapters but i also need to catch up and write :( also just a general q do u guys want this to be a full blown series leading up to order 66 following the clone wars final season/eps with more drama and romance and angst or keep it until this like 'arc' ends.

i lowk feel like a longer series but i feel like tumblr isnt the right place for this lol maybe ao3 or wattpad also hope u guys appreciate me trying to use coordinated gifs for the chapters 😭

HOPE U GUYS LIKE IT THO <3

Taglist: @endairachristensen26 @hayden-christensen-verse @ducks118 @seventeen-x @movingalongthekiwi @ssnapsaurus @caramelfondu @dayrin085 @devilslittlehelper @f1wh0recom @green-lxght @bettysgardenswift

if u want to be added or removed lmk!

[iwtv-theories]

Daniel Molloy's sexuality (analysis/head-cannon)

I know a lot of people assume Daniel is bi/pan : like Lestat, Claudia, Madeleine, Armand, Santiago, and even book -Daniel. But honestly... I sometimes wonder if he might be like Louis (who was gay ,closeted, and in denial). Frankly, I think both interpretations are possible .

Not going to lie , as messed up as ep 5 was for poor Daniel, I can’t get over how savage Armand was with alluding to Daniel being in the closet. He read him to filth so subtly 😅. Armand says one thing but the subtext is practically being thrown into poor Daniel’s face (when he was still trying to rationalize that he only sold himself to men for a fix).

Oh , “In middle school, you stole your dad’s playboy magazine and sold it at recess” (why didn’t you keep it? Did you not enjoy it as much as your father and the other boys ?) “In high school, you told a girl you’d only do her if she had a paper bag over her head. “ (why is that Daniel? Is there a pattern here?). If you marry a woman your thrust game will be weak as hell (and of course YOU won’t be able to satisfy her) .

Daniel literally closes his eyes whenever Armand mentions him being an inadequate lover to a woman. He can’t even look him in the eye (cause deep down it’s probably one of his biggest insecurities ).

Armand also mentions that if Daniel had a nuclear family: he , his wife, and his kids would all be miserable (and he’d end up just mirroring his parent’s dysfunctional relationship and be with a woman that reminds him of his ‘mother'). Armand literally listened to the audio tape where Daniel compared marriage to “cancer” and said gay Louis (who essentially married Lestat at the altar) “had a ticket out” of that "shit". Armand really tried to convince him to “have a way out” of traditional heterosexual marriage (via death). Armand was brutal for that one��

Daniel to Louis : “Did you come to San Francisco because it was a hub for homophiles?” Projection! In ep 5, Louis even angrily yelled in the present that Daniel was a “homophile.” Not like , Louis hasn’t alluded to Daniel's sexuality before. Daniel was a regular at the gay bar and had a tab there , and the bartender knew him by name. Daniel says it was just to “score” but that’s both slang for drugs and sex (a Freudian slip?) He sold himself for drugs and partially used it as an excuse to be with men. Oh, I did it for a fix , I wouldn’t do it if I wasn’t high. Yes , he’s addicted but I don’t think he was simply “struggling “ with JUST his addiction but his sexuality as well. He used the drugs as an excuse : “I did what I had to do.” Louis’ words about denying his sexuality could also reflect Daniel's feelings in the 70s as well (only difference is , Daniel doesn't appear to accept his sexuality like Louis eventually did). "It bears repeating , I did not consider myself a homosexual man at the time. I mean, I had experiences. Guilt -shame. Floating on a sea with vodka type encounters. Obviously, I’ve come to embrace my sexuality. of course, you know that we met at a gay bar, didn't we Daniel? Did you marry?/ "Twice. But we're not here to talk about me, are we?" (Intentional or not, It really feels like Louis is low key calling him out and Daniel knows it...)

Heck , even this scene is a possible visual parallel between closeted Louis & (maybe?) closeted Daniel.

Louis denying his sexuality via: "A lie that I told myself about myself, that I was a red blooded son of the south/ “ (The gay bar) was a good place to score . I did what I had to do… I wanted drugs… I'm just a shitty little kid from Modesto."

The fact Daniel uses "homophile" is also VERY telling about his true desires. "The homophile movement was a collective term for organizations and publications supporting and representing sexual minorities in the 1950s to 1960s. Proponents of the term 'homophile' hoped to emphasize the romantic rather than sexual aspect of same-sex relationships by replacing the -"sexual" suffix with the Greek root "philos," meaning LOVE.” Daniel (probably) deep down wanted "love" from a man , but only acted on his sexual desires (where there was no emotional intimacy and it could be more easily dismissed).

Also, Armand to Daniel : oh you Interviewed a sex worker and a happy gay couple who lived in a famous gay neighborhood. “Are you trying to find some ineffable truth “ ? (cough about yourself ). "Ineffability : is the quality of something that surpasses the capacity of language to express it , often being in the form of a TABOO or something incomprehensible”. Daniel, he’s dragging you !

Armand sifted through his mind , he probably figured all this out . Armand’s monologue to Daniel emulates the “to be LOVED by death” scene: where Santiago initially sifts through the victim's mind, then kissed her and called her a “bride “ before feeding on her. Armand before bitting Daniel, pretends to be death, caresses his cheek and says “come, I’ll hold you.” He may know about Daniel’s desires ( which were probably intimacy from a man, like that gay couple he interviewed). All the drug -fuel hookups probably had no gentle words, caresses, or emotional intimacy. The symbolic insanity .

If past d.m did happen - it was probably his first “romantic “ relationship with a man. And also possibly the only time he was with a man sexually (while sober). Of course if that (more than a decade's long relationship) was erased - he’d be able to rationalize that he was just with men cause he needed a high, experimenting, etc. And , if he’s mixing up Alice and Armand in his head due to “mind -fuckery” then yeah… that could also affect how he perceives his sexuality. Of course , he could have loved Alice and just be bi (and still in denial about his queer identity ).

Daniel's opinion on his own sexuality (whether bi or gay) is hard to pinpoint. On one hand , you'd think he would accept himself if he was aware of historical queer liberation movements. And he reported on the Aids crisis in the 80s when most reporters wouldn't have discussed it . But then again he could have been dating Armand when reporting about it. Or (even if he wasn’t, and was still in denial about his sexuality) he may have still wanted to report about it given the fact guys like him : drug users, male sex workers were most suseptible to the disease, and also heavily demonized for it . And he maybe even had friends affected by the disease. Daniel is rough around the edges but he does care about “those who fall through the cracks” (and are discarded by society). So even if he tried to rationalize that he was an ally who just did what he needed to do for a fix - I could still see him care about the ‘cause’ .He even mentioned the aids crisis in his promo video.

Young Daniel wrote multiple essays (that eventually were published into a book) all about karposi sarcoma (a cancer that was first discovered among aids patients). It might have scared him so much that he chose the 'figurative cancer (marriage)’ over fear of developing 'actual cancer’ (and accepting his sexuality). Which could be one of MANY reasons all his marriages fell apart.

Devil’s advocate: It’s possible Daniel just avoids references to his own queer identity because he doesn’t want his own business being brought up , and interfering with the interview. But …

Daniel may ‘pull a Louis’, and only admit he's queer post- vampirism. Daniel:" I love that man... that was Louis de pointe du lac just now making his fangs (dramatic pause) "come out." Louis about becoming a vampire: “Death, rebirth, coming out…a lot of firsts.” Daniel: "Coming out? How's sexuality play in that?"

I could definitely see vampirism being the catalyst for Daniel accepting his sexual identity (whether that’s him being gay or bi).

[nakidoriii]

In the Middle- Part 3

GeGo x Reader Mini Series

Warning: smut, squirting, cumming inside, male/male blowjob, threesome. || MDNI

Parts 1 and 2!

Art: Pintrest (if you know the artist feel free to tag.)

“Y/N, you didn’t…..” Utahime sighed.

“Oh, she did…” Shoko says while exhaling cigarette smoke.

You and the girls were sitting by the fountain in the courtyard. It was the day after your spontaneous endeavor with Gojo and Geto. You had just told the news to Shoko and Utahime. You didn’t want to tell anybody but you had to tell them.

“So let me get this straight… you let the snowman hit?” Utahime clarifies.

“Well, not exactly….. just my mouth.” You mumble.

Shoko lets out a laugh while Utahime covers her ears.

“I don’t want to know the details but thanks for telling us.” Utahime admits.

“Yea, we had a feeling that Geto liked you. He’d always ask us about you but we told him you weren’t looking to date. We had no idea about Gojo though.” Shoko also admits.

“I’m honestly glad it happened the way it did. I think it was just a one time thing.” You say.

“Oh it definitely won’t be, knowing them.” Shoko says as she starts walking away.

“What do you mean by that?” You say as Utahime starts following her.

“I don't really need to explain! Keep us updated though!” She yells as she walks off with Utahime to their next class.

You start walking to the food court, thinking about whether or not you should text the boys. Would that be weird? Is that clingy? It hasn't even been 24 hours yet.

“Y/N!”

You quickly turn your head to see Gojo with his usual toothy grin. You look him up and down taking in his outfit. He had on baggy cargo jeans and loose fitted graphic tee and silver accessories. These pieces were definitely out of Geto’s closet. He had a pep in his step as he walked up to you…more than usual of course.

“Heyyy.” You sing in response.

He casually throws his arm around your shoulders and starts walking with you. Almost every girl in sight has their eyes burning through you. I’m sure they are curious to know when this happened.

“How’s my favorite girl? You sore at all?” He asks loud enough so that only you can hear.

You laugh and say, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would, that’s why I asked.” He pouts, sighs and says, “I never got a turn yesterday.”

“Ahh, that’s why you’re shouting my name across campus. Yea, that makes sense.” You say sarcastically.

“Oh, my bad. Are we keeping this a secret? That’s no fun.” He teases.

“Your fangirls are already staring holes into me just because you’re touching me.” You say under your breath.

Gojo’s hand slides down your arm and onto your waist, pulling you closer to him as you two walk. He’s trying to get a rise out of these girls.

“I’m hoping it motivates you to come over. Is it working?” He says as he flashes you his pearly whites.

“Maybe a little.” You laugh at his sheer dedication to get into your pants. “What about Geto though?”

Gojo stops you in your tracks and lets out a, “Hmm” as he thinks. He bends down, placing his glossed lips next to your ear and says, “He wouldn’t mind if we got started early.”

Those words send sparks down to your center, causing you to clench your legs together as you stand in front of him. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious about how Gojo is in bed. All you two did was give each other head and that was mostly because you couldn’t last another round.

“Under one condition.” You state.

“Anything.” He pleads.

“Since you’re derailing my whole day, it’s gotta be worth it. I’m cumming multiple times, got it?” You demand.

Gojo bites his lip in anticipation. Now you’re speaking his language.

“Yes ma’am. Let me call Suguru so I can let him know what will be waiting when he gets home. Ugh! Just thinking about you both is making me really excited.” He says giddily as he dials his best friend's number. “Suguru, meet us at the apartment. Y/Ns gonna be there. We’re getting started without you……. Yes, I’ll be gentle…..She said she wanted to multiple times…….Hahaha, yea I’ll snap a couple photos, you know me……See you soon.”

He hangs up the phone and starts leading you to his place. Gojo couldn’t keep his hands off of you during the whole walk. He would stand directly behind you knowing you’d feel his bulge on the small of your back. He’d whisper sweet nothings directly in your ear on the train. He wanted you soaked by the time you got to his place, calling it the “foreplay before the foreplay.” The moment you get to his front door, he pins your back to it. One of his hands is already sliding past the waistband of your panties, the other unlocking the door.

“G-Gojo, let's get inside first.” Your protest grows into a moan as his finger glides past your clit.

He opens the door, causing both of you to scuffle into the apartment. He uses his free hand to close the door. Articles of clothes get flung to different areas of his shared apartment as you two make your way to his bedroom. You crawl into his bed wearing only your bra and panties. He grabs your ankles and pulls you back to the edge of the bed. You squeal as he pries your legs open.

“Your panties are soaked.” He admires his work before he pulls them down your long legs.

You run your hands through his unpigmented hair as he licks up and down your folds. His hands pressed on the back of your thighs, lifting your legs up so he could have full access to your most sensitive parts. Gojo loved getting a reaction out of you and he planned to get so much more than that out of you.

“Satoruuu!” You moaned as he sucked on your clit.

This jump started Gojo’s pulse. He had never heard you call him by his first name, it kinda just slipped out. He spits on your puffy lips and slides two fingers in you. Your lips part from the new feeling inside you.

“Ugh, I love that! Say it again, baby. Who’s making you feel this good?” He says in between your folds.

“Mmmhnn, S-Satoru!” You moan as you throw your head back.

It was getting hard for you to keep your legs open as he fingered you, moving his fingers in a ‘come here’ motion. He pried your legs open with his free hand as he continued eating you out, making that knot form in your stomach.

“Mmm.” he moaned as if he was receiving pleasure from this.

He picks up the pace knowing that you're close.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cuumm!” You say as you push his face deeper into your folds. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as waves of pleasure crash over you.

He held you down as you rode out your orgasm, moaning his name the entire time. He slides his fingers out of you and starts kissing all over your body. Before you could open your eyes, you felt two more hands on your body.

“You did so good, Satoru.” Geto says right before slipping his tongue into Gojo’s mouth.

You don’t think you could ever get used to watching them kiss like this. It turns you on more than anything. The way Geto teasingly bites Gojo’s lip or how Gojo smiles during their kisses, it’s really fucking hot to you.

“She tastes so good, my God.” Geto moans as Gojo kisses his neck.

You sit up and start unbuttoning both their pants as they make out and feel each other up. You couldn’t take your eyes off them as you pulled their boxers to their knees. You spit on both their dicks and start stroking.

“What a good girl.” Gojo moans as both their attentions shift to you.

You take Geto down your throat as you continue to stroke Gojo with your hand. You look up at Geto as you moan with him down your throat. You take Geto from your throat and replace it with Gojo’s throbbing member, going back and forth between the best friends.

“How should I fuck her, Suguru?” Gojo asks as he caresses your jawline.

“I think she should be on top. I wanna see both of your pretty faces when you cum.” Geto states.

Gojo smirks as he lays down on his bed. He grabs onto your hips as you position yourself on top of him. You line up the tip of his dick with your entrance and slowly lower yourself down on his hard member.

“Shit.” You say under your breath.

You couldn’t believe how tight you were considering Geto had fucked you out yesterday. Gojo’s lips were slightly parted as your walls adjusted around him. You start to grind your hips back and forth, feeling the tip of Gojo’s dick rubbing against your cervix. He grinds his hips back towards you making you squirm. His fingers were pressing into your hips making sure he had control of your movements. You pick up the pace and start bouncing on it.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Show Suguru how good you ride my dick.” Gojo moans.

Suguru chuckles at this statement. He undresses fully as he watches his best friend slide in and out of you. Gojo was making direct eye contact with Geto as he slapped your ass, almost like he was luring him in. Geto saunters over with his dick in hand. You watch as Geto runs his hand through Gojo’s hair, making Gojo look up at him.

“Be a good boy and show y/n how you suck me off.” Suguru's voice weighed down with lust.

Your eyes grow wide at Geto’s statement. Gojo opens his mouth with his tongue out. He looks up at his best friend with pleading eyes, begging Geto to put his dick in his mouth. Geto slides his hard member between Gojo’s lips as you ride him. You throw your head back and moan, “Fuuck, I can't get enough of you two.”

Geto shifts his attention to you while Gojo pleases him. You start running your hands up and down your breasts and body as you ride Gojo. You wanted to entice him.

“You like watching me ride your best friend's dick?” The question slides off your tongue like silk.

Geto bites his lip and says, “Yea, but I wanna watch you cum on it.”

He places his hand on the back of your neck and pulls you into a heated kiss with him. Gojo moans on Geto’s dick as he watches you two make out. You couldn’t help but to moan into Geto’s mouth as your tongues caressed each other. His hand slides down your stomach and goes to your clit. He starts rubbing tight circles on it, making you pull away from the kiss.

“Hah!- Suguru!!” You moan as he gives your clit the attention it was looking for.

Geto was dominating both you and Gojo, at the same damn time. Gojo sees this and starts bucking his hips up into you at a faster rate. He couldn’t let Suguru be responsible for the orgasm you were getting close to.

“Satoru, fuuckk!! Oh my god, I-I’m so close.” You whine. Your walls clench around Gojo’s cock which caused him to moan on Geto’s dick. All three of you were so close.

“Make us cum, Satoru. Ugh, fuck! We’re so close.” Geto says as he presses his forehead up against yours.

Geto was not letting up on your clit. The amount of pleasure both of these men were giving you was sending you over the edge. You felt an unbelieve amount of pressure in your lower abdomen.

“Suguuurrruu!! Fuck, Saattooruuu!!” You screamed as you squirt.

The moment your juices got on them, both Gojo and Geto were pushed over the edge. Gojo busted first, painting your walls with thick warm ropes of his cum. His aquamarine eyes were rolled to the back of his head as his cheeks grew pink from the amount of pleasure. Watching this caused Geto to paint Satoru’s blushing face with his thick ropes of cum. All three of you were out of breath, over stimulated, and covered in each other's cum.

Taglist: @boopjuice  @thatmf-jay @whiter4bbitcorner @sukunaslilsocks @zombiiegrlx @candiceiscrazy @jinjen @arminsxseashell @tokyolhtl @vertigoswan @nazzysworld13 @zinflo @rllytiredrn @stinkmf @lnette04 @princess-bblgm @ovela @fiercedeception @arabellasolstice

This is the final chapter to ITM! Thank you all for reading! My submissions are open so feel free to put in some requests :) Comments and Reblogs are appreciated!

Masterlist

Please do not alter or steal my writings.

[gatheringbones]

[“Henry sat quietly while I told him the story of what had happened at the motorcycle rally, the moment of revelation when I’d seen myself for the first time: the boy on the motorcycle with the girl on the back. There were two separate things going on here, obviously, but one of them wasn’t something I was interested in looking at just yet, and anyway, the relief of having finally said the words “I’m gay” out loud to another human being was so great it almost overwhelmed the other thing. I focused my attention on Lola, the presence of Lola, my desire for Lola. I want a girl on the back of my bike, therefore I must be gay. The other thing would have to wait.

I felt it necessary to produce as much evidence as I could to corroborate this statement in case Henry didn’t believe me. While I might have looked a bit like a baby dyke when I was in my twenties, I sure as hell didn’t now, with my hair and my jewelry and my French manicure. Also, I’d never done anything remotely gay. I was forty years old, and I’d never even kissed a woman. But I’d been in love with dozens, so I went back through my history, naming all of them, starting with Georgia, whom I’d met at my first boarding school, and then Lola, whom I’d met while trying to get away from Georgia, and then the girl I had a crush on at art school, and the model I used to drop Ecstasy with, and the actress who once told me she like-liked me, and the musician I’d semi-stalked, and the school mom who’d made me forget how my limbs were supposed to work, and all the other women in between whom I’d pretended not to watch, or want, or wish for, or lie awake at night dreaming about.

By the time I finished, I’d shredded an entire box of tissues into my lap. “It’s like a monster in the cellar,” I said, taking the second box of tissues that Henry was passing me. “It keeps bursting up through the floorboards and yelling, You’re attracted to women and you don’t like having sex with men, and I just put my fingers in my ears and go lalala until it goes away. Because I cannot be gay.”

“Why can’t you be gay?”

“Jesus, Henry, I’m married with four children!”

Henry took off his glasses and started cleaning them with a cloth. I looked at the seascape hanging on the wall. It was probably meant to be soothing. I wanted to throw a brick at it.

“It might be different if I were a man, but I’m a woman,” I said miserably. “I don’t even know what the right type of gay is if you’re a woman.”

“The right type of gay?”

“Well, yes, because it’s different for men, isn’t it?”

“It is?”

“Because gay men can be kind of . . . glamorous, can’t they?”

“And lesbians can’t?”

I winced. “Well, no,” I said. “I mean . . . no.”

Admittedly, I hadn’t actually met any lesbians recently, but I could clearly remember the expression on my father’s face when he saw the pictures of the women at the Greenham Common peace camps back in the 1980s, lesbians with bad haircuts and shapeless clothes aggressively shaking the chain-link fence surrounding the nuclear military base while their boots sunk into the mud. Unfeminine women with left-wing ideologies were my father’s worst nightmare, and somehow I seemed to have absorbed this fear without ever fully questioning it.

I pulled another stack of tissues out of the box and blew my nose. My hands hurt so badly it felt as if my bones were splintering inside my muscles. “Is this what’s been causing the pain?” I asked.

“It sounds like you’ve been building yourself up in layers that don’t belong to you,” Henry said, gently. “Now you can start peeling them off again, find out what’s underneath.”

“What if I peel off all the layers and find there’s nothing there? What if I just disappear in a little puff of smoke?”

“Why d’you think that would happen?”

“Because . . . because . . . I’m frightened I’m not anything!”]

oliver Radclyffe, from frighten the horses: a memoir, 2024

[kate-mccannon]

Ruined - Chapter 1

Pairings- Aemond Targaryen x OFC (Cerenna Lannister), Daeron Targaryen x OFC (Cerenna Lannister)

Warnings- Canon Timeline (Alternative Ending), Suggestive Themes, Strong Language

Summary- Cerenna arrives in King’s Landing. Is she prepared for what life at Court entails?

Word Count - 6930

A/N- I am genuinely so proud of this fic. It took forever but chapter one is finally done!

Series Masterlist • Main Masterlist

Cerenna Lannister was beautiful. Beautiful in the same way that nature glistened after a warm summer rain; bright, hopeful…promising. Her long, yellow hair flowed past the curve of her back, her green eyes were softly muted but an icy blue tint. Her face had lost its roundness at a younger age than most other girls, in the absence of the plumpness of youth; sharp, delicate features were unearthed, causing her to look much more severe than her usual intent. In brief moments, as light flooded in through the windows in The Rock and cast down its rays onto her silken hair, she appeared as a foreign Goddess to her maids, working on her embroidery without notice, like a nymph hidden in the hallowed walls; an uplifting surprise to any whom happened upon her. 

Cerenna was the budding daughter of the Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West. At just ten and four, Cerenna had attracted her first suitor; none other than a Prince of the Realm. Songs of her beauty had spread far and wide, reaching Old Town and the Lord Gwanye Hightower, who had sent word to the Lord Hand, Otto Hightower, who, in turn, sent a betrothal proposal to Cerenna’s father, Lord Jason Lannister. When Lord Jason had first read this proposal, he swiftly sent word to his brother, Tyland Lannister, who had been at Court for some time and asked of the boy’s demeanor, having heard stories of another particular cold, Prince of the Realm and worried the Targayren brothers might have shared similar shortcomings. Tyland had written his brother back with haste as a raven came nearly a fortnight later, reassuring Jason that Tyland had heard nothing but good word of Daeron. His brother’s reassurance had put Lord Jason at ease and his hesitation for the betrothal was instantly squashed where it lay.

The raven accepting the betrothal left Casterly Rock within an hour of this confirmation. Within the next two years, Daeron would visit his betrothed often. The pair would stroll Lannisport together, visiting street merchants with guards closely in tow. Cerenna grew fond of the young dragon for he was kind, intelligent, and soft. He often told her of his life in Old Town and she tried in earnest to imagine it when he described how the beacon shone during the wicked storms that wracked the bay. He never spoke of his family, outside of his uncle Gwyane, and this had bothered Cerenna, though, being brought up as a proper and kind young Lady, she had never pried. She knew he had two brothers and two sisters, along with a slew of nephews and a niece but he never spoke of any of them; not even his mother, and never his father.

Word of the King’s death came with the news of a new King, Aegon, Second of his name. Her father let out a bitter laugh when asked by a Vassal Lord who he’d declare for. She remembers his words, “Are you mad? Do you expect me to kneel for that old whore?” The hall shook with his booming voice and Cerenna had flinched at his words, even if they were not directed toward her. 

The war was a brutal two year long affair, one that the Green faction emerged on top of, although not without losses. Her father had been mortally wounded at the battle of the Red Fork and her brother, Loreon had preceded their father as Lord of Casterly Rock. At ten and eight, Cerenna was called to Court to fulfill her father’s promise and that is the road she is on now, escorted by her uncle, Tyland. 

The wheelhouse bumps along the streets of King’s Landing. Two years ago, this would have been a joyous occasion and Cerenna would have been bubbling with anticipation. Now, still rocking in the wake of war and loss, Cerenna finds little to be happy about as of late. Tyland reaches across the wheelhouse, leaning on his cane as he pats Cerenna’s knee reassuringly. She looks at him, veiling her disgust, as he offers her a thin-lipped smile. “King’s Landing has a lot to offer you, Cerenna. Daeron is a hero now, there is a golden statue erected in his honor. You’ll be proud to have a husband like him.”

Cerenna pulls her knee away from her uncle’s soft grip. “It is not that I am not happy.” She breathes slowly to steady her emotions, “It’s just that I haven’t seen him since the beginning of the war. He has changed, I have changed. What differences divide us now?” She smoothes the deep red velvet of her skirt. The fabric feels buttery under her gloves but there is an uncomfortable chill in the air. 

“You must not think so deeply of this, Cerenna. Heavens knows that he will not. He will be happy that the Gods have put a pretty bride by his side and a war that is over, he will not fret over differences. There can only be so many differences between a woman and man in the marriage bed.” Her uncle lets out a soft laugh and whatever joke he must have made goes completely over her head as she stares at him in an unnerving way that makes him straighten his posture and clear his throat. “I mean… He’s a man. He will only care if you do your duty.”

Cerenna scoffed, leaning back in her seat. Two years ago, she would have been excited to do her duty and provide for Daeron his heirs. Now that she’s older and has learned what a wife’s duty entails, she is less so inclined. Her best-friend in Casterly Rock, Cecilly Reyn, had gotten married a year prior to a man nearly twice her age, as most young women do. Cerenna knew she was lucky to marry a man her age, born nearly a month apart, but this did little to quell her growing disdain for what was expected of her as a wife. The fortnight after Cecilly’s wedding, she had confided in Cerenna that she simply hated marriage and it was nothing like the stories or songs they had heard in their youth. Cecilly’s husband was brutish, taking his pleasure with little regard for Cecilly as long as she was still fit to bear him children. When Cerenna suggested to her mother, Johanna, that Cecilly’s husband needed to be put in the cells of Casterly Rock for the way he treated his wife, Lady Johanna laughed heartily at Cerenna’s concern, telling her that was the way of men and Cecilly ought best to get used to it now. 

The carriage rolled to a stop within the Red Keep. Tyland rocked a little uneasily, steadying himself before turning to Cerenna and standing with a hunched position in the wheelhouse, his hand on the door shaking as he steadied himself with his cane in the other hand. “Cerenna, please keep in mind that although King Aegon is indisposed, his mind is sharp.” He sighed wearily as he braced his next words of caution, “Do not under any circumstances appear as unenthusiastic about this marriage. The King that was crowned is not the King who sits before the Throne today. He is fiercely vigilant of the remainder of his house and those that come within it. Consider this marriage to be one of the greatest bestowals of trust. House Lannister is being given the opportunity to merge our lineage and create the next generation for House Targaryen…”

The doors opened and Tyland hobbled through, Cerenna took a deep breath to calm her nerves and let her Uncle’s words seep in. Be joyous, Cerenna, she told herself, you may carry the next King.

“My King, may I introduce to you my niece, Lady Cerenna of House Lannister.” Tyland bowed as Cerenna joined him in front of the steps, before the King and his family. Cerenna curtsied deeply, as she had been taught to by her mother in her younger years, her eyes not leaving the ground until the King had spoken to her.

“Lady Cerenna,” the King’s voice croaked. She raised herself to her full height and looked upon her king. Bounded to a wheeled chair, his face was half beautiful, half marred. He wore the heavy crown on both sides, it seemed to wear heavier on the burdened half, sagging slightly without hair nor fat to hold the dreaded metal in place. “Tales of your beauty have reached far and wide. I see for myself that those tales were lies.” Taken aback by the King’s cruel words, Cerenna parted her mouth in shock, only for the King to continue, “For no simple tale could empress the bewitching aura in which your presence holds.”

Cerenna smiled thankfully, absolving her shock. She could understand the similar tales of him now. He had been quite the merrymaker within King’s Landing before he was King, before the heavy crown was laid on his head and his child was struck dead, before his injuries, before his wife jumped from the tower…before war had turned his life sour like wine in a stale cup.

“Thank you for allowing me into your home and into your hearts,” Cerenna smiled toward the crowd of green and silver that had gathered at the steps before the Keep. Too many to point out one single person, not enough to pronounce the strength of House Targaryen. This is it, she told herself, they are the bones of what was.

“Come, I will see my betrothed to her chambers,” a man stated stoutly as he made his way down the steps and Cerenna was able to look upon his face for the first time in years. Daeron had grown broader. His face had hardened but he still held the kind soft, lavender eyes she remembered and loved about him. As he extended his hand, she took it and warmth encompassed her like an old friend.

Everything and nothing had changed. 

He led her past the welcoming host so quickly that she had not the chance to introduce herself to any individual person nor meet any of his family other than their King. She allowed him to lead her through the Red Keep as if they had not left off only two years ago, before the distance of two years, loss,  and a war. His hold on her hand felt familiar and warm, just as it always had. She let herself sink into the feeling of happiness for the first time in a long time. Something about being locked in hands with Daeron felt comfortable, as if the war and its history were erased and the two resided in ignorant bliss, as was before.

“I could hardly wait for your return to me,” he spoke as he led her to a winding staircase, “I have been waiting near my window for days.” She blushed as he pulled her along hastily without looking back toward her.

He led her up to a tower room with a heavy door. “Tis not very high up I suppose, you cannot see the city well from this vantage point. But Aegon insisted…” Daeron trailed off as he looked out the window. Cerenna did not prod him to finish, what was left unsaid hung in the air between them as Daeron turned around to face her. He looked almost peckish in the lowlight of the room. “You’re not far from your uncle, should you need any family to talk to until our union. And I will try my best to break fast with you every morn, as long as my duties permit me to.”

Cerenna smiled a thin lipped smile, the reality of her loneliness here already beginning to set in. She shifted in her feet, holding her hands tightly behind her back, “Tis alright. I understand.” Daeron walked towards her, setting his hands on her shoulders as she gazed up at him through her pale lashes. When did he grow so tall, the question entered her mind like a midnight’s breeze. He smelled like spring, fresh, maybe something floral or sweet. Foreign and soft; different, and all the same. He felt so close yet so far away, like she could reach for him in the wind and his warmth would be there but she’d never feel his body. He was cast into the air like dust on a windless day; scattered and close.

“I promise to make up for the time lost between us before our wedding. I do not wish for you to be married to a stranger.” He brought his hand to cup her face affectionately, it felt forced. Cerenna winced at his soft touch and he retreated his embrace softly and without ridicule. 

She shook her head lightly, worried she had offended him, “I’m not sure you can ever be a stranger, my Prince.” Raising her hands to his face, she cupped either side lightly. “But to quell your doubts, a fortnight is nigh enough time to become reacquainted with the boy I fell for those years ago. We may not be on the same foot where we had left off, but we are both excellent dancers and partners.”

His grin dissipated slowly and he raised his hands to remove her touch from his face, “Cerenna, I am a man now. I’ve seen war,” his breathing deepened as his eyes searched the floor, “I’ve killed men. I do not know if being reacquainted is simply enough. I worry I may look the same but my heart is different. Please allow yourself time to-” 

Suddenly, a knock sounds at her door, a maid strolled in without warning, carrying a trunk. When she sees Cerenna and Daeron, she drops the trunk with a loud thud, curtsying sloppily. “‘M’ sorry, M’ Prince, M’ Lady. I didn’t know the Lady was already escorted to her room.” 

Daeron dismisses the apology with a wave of his hand as he steps back from Cerenna. “No need for apologies.” He turns to Cerenna as he backs toward the door, “I will come collect you before supper.”

Cerenna nods with a simple smile and longing in her heart to understand what had changed in the stolen time between them, “Goodbye, My Prince.”

That afternoon, Cerenna is visited by her uncle briefly to ensure she is settling in nicely and she spends the remainder of the afternoon telling the maids where her dresses should go as they exchange looks. In most instances, Ladies do not instruct the maids where to put their clothes but in her very first few hours in the Red Keep, Cerenna had grown entirely too bored and too anxious to do anything else as she awaited supper. Once the maids had left, Cerenna collapsed upon the bed, dread and exhausted coursing through her veins. She would hold a conversation with the remainder of Daeron’s family tonight and a million questions ran through her mind. What if I speak out of turn? What if I had food in my teeth? What if I find out something unsavory about Daeron? What if they do not like me?

A knock at the door breaks the swirl of anxiety inside her mind. Cerenna stands, righting her dress, brushing away the hairs that had fallen from their place to her face. As she strides to the door, another knock, now more insistent. “One moment please-” Cerenna opens her new chamber doors to be met with a pillar of a man, dressed in black. She cranes her head to look up at him, the silver hair cascading down his back and on the sides of his face tell Cerenna he is a Targaryen, the eyepatch resting on his crown tells her exactly which one. She had never met him in person and although he possesses the dragon’s beauty, he also possesses’ a look about him that reminds her of another particular animal; a weasel. A sour look threatens to appear on her saccharine features but she dismisses the notion. 

“My Prince, what a surprise-” She grips the door harder in her left hand, preparing to shut it in his face if he dares cross the threshold. “I was not expecting anyone,” she smiles, “you of all people though-” she adds with a honeyed tone.

Aemond shifts at her door, he towers over her frame with a threatening aura that seems natural to him. Hardened and strengthened by battle, she finds his presence alone a diseasement to her space, let alone that her father died at his foolish command. “I’ve ought the mind to come and collect you for dinner. Perhaps, we can make amends.”

She tilts her head and purses her lips in feigned confusion, “For whatever for?” Her resolve will not crumble in the face of this man. She shifts her body so that she’s blocking the entryway entirely now.

He shifts his weight to mirror hers, making amends does seem to not come to him naturally. Cerenna revels in it slightly, the way he struggles. But she knows nothing of this man except the simple fact that his order caused her father’s peril, she feels herself reduce the satisfaction she feels at the memory of the news of her father’s death. 

“We lost many good men in the war. Many wives left without husbands, daughter’s left without fathers. I suppose there are many relations to amend and while you’re at the Keep, I was hoping that we might develop a kinship. So, I apologize for your father’s death. His absence at Casterly Rock is felt by the crown.” His eye contact is burning, Cerenna is forced to look away in an effort to not feel persecuted by it.

Cerenna opens the door slightly, eyes downcast, shifting her feet to a more pliant stature. “Thank you. I appreciate your words but moreover, I appreciate the mere fact that you had the gumption to come talk to me.” She looks up again, meeting his eye in earnest, “My hope for my future with Daeron is to find a love that makes the scars of the past heal.” She hopes, silently, that he takes her words in stride and understands that she needs no further apologies or guilt to be felt by him. The last thing she wishes for in her new hope is to feel as though there is tension in her new home between her and a member of her future husband’s family.

Aemond stepped back with a kind smile, offering his arm for her to take. Cerenna stepped from her chambers, closing the door and locked her arm around his gently. “My hope for your union is to bring Daeron happiness. I will be honest, I did not know him well prior to, well,” he gestured vaguely with his free hand, “the war…but what I knew of him is that he was a very happy young man. The fighting has taken quite a toll on us, him especially.” Cerenna thought briefly that going from a happy, carefree boy to somber, hardened man must have seemed like quite a toll outwardly; she wondered if anyone thought Aemond had changed. What she knew of him, he was a bitter young man, if anything, her impression of him now is he was halfway toward lively, halfway toward guarded…nothing somber. She did not know much about him to proclaim that he was still bitter. There is still time, she thought. 

“War does not only seem to take though,” Cerenna added, tilting her head questioningly toward Aemond who seemed slightly taken aback by the way his steps stuttered, “correct me if I am wrong, that might be entirely possible, but your betrothal from your ladywife was amidst the war? And now, well, a babe on the way…” Cerenna heard tales of Lady Baratheon. Beautiful in a contrasting way. Cerenna’s mother warned her to stay on Lady Baratheon’s good side, at least until Cerenna bore Daeron a babe to solidify her status among the family. Highborn ladies can be catty, cruel to others they deem a threat to their standing in high society. Cerenna had yet to meet Lady Baratheon but she understood quite clearly that anyone who could withstand the infamous, cold Prince was not someone to be reckoned with. 

Cerenna’s stomach turned in knots as she realized Aemond would be escorting her to the dinner where his wife would be. What would she think? Would she be a jealous woman? Would she be kind? 

“Your pace has slowed, Cerenna?” Aemond’s voice broke her from her trance. She looked at him, flush evident on her face. “Cerenna? Are you quite alright?”

Cerenna nodded, blinking away her anxieties, “I’m fine. I just…well, I am nervous. I want to make a good impression.”

Aemond smirked, she felt silly. “Cerenna, do not worry.” His free hand closed around her arm that was linked with his, and he leaned in scandalously close, Cerenna felt herself back up slightly, not enough to offend. “We are to be kin?” Cerenna nodded with an uneasy feeling. Please lean away, she thought between her closely knit brows. “I will not let any harm come to you.” His eye raked over her face once, too quickly to mean anything, too strange to not mean something, before he retreated to an acceptable distance. 

As the two walked to the dinner hall, they passed a pair of maids. Naturally, the highborn of the Court do not give lowborn and maids alike any glances and such was the case as Cerenna and Aemond passed the maids but the opposite can be said for the maids. Passing the pair, they eyed the Prince and Lady Lannister, whose arms were interlocked and into deep conversation. 

Once out of earshot, the maids exchanged a knowing look before the shorter of the two spoke up, “He looks like he wants to eat her alive.”

The elder made a sound between a scoff and a laugh, “Tis what he’s best known for, I heard.” 

The shorter repressed a smile as a blush kept to her cheeks, “His lady wife is with child. Should he not be more shamed in his pursuits?”

The elder truly scoffed then. She turned her head fully, giving the shorter one a glare down her puffy nose, “You do not know the way of men, do ye?”

The shorter shrugged her shoulders as a feeling of immaturity overwhelmed her, “Well, I thought since he’s a Prince-”

“Since he’s won the war for his brother, he’s had a renewed arrogance about him. He’s untouchable. The King’s favorite dog gets to do as it likes; piss on the linens, steal dinner from the table, hump just about any leg.” The shorter repressed a laugh behind her palm and that egged the elder on. “You’ve not been in the Keep before the war, he was a boy before. War changes men. Usually,” she sighed as they walked, looking out ahead of their path absently, “usually war changes them in different ways.”

As Cerenna and Aemond approached the dinner hall, Cerenna loosened her hold on Aemond’s arm, slipping her arm from where it was locked with his. Aemond looked down between the empty space that now was held between them but made no comment as the doors opened. He strode ahead by two paces then split his path, going toward the opposite end of the long table, to his wife. The Lady Baratheon was standing to receive Aemond with her eyes locked on Cerenna in a daunting stare that Cerenna could not quite place. Her hand came up to rest atop her protruding belly as Aemond took her other and kissed her with a strange, fierce passion. After that display,  Aemond pushed her chair in for her as she sat, then, sat beside his wife and his attention was on her alone, forcing her attention from Cerenna. Cerenna felt relieved that he seemed devoted to her, she had felt rather silly for being uncomfortable in his presence in their descent down to the dining hall. It was clear to her then that he was a steadfast husband to Lady Floris.

Daeron collected Cerenna with a smile, “I apologize for not coming to collect you. Aemond insisted on coming to speak with you. Did he?”

She tore her focus away from watching the couple, twisting her attention toward Daeron with confusion as she wracked her mind, trying to remember why Aemond had come to collect her in the first place. They had talked so much on their way to the dinner hall, Cerenna had nearly forgotten Aemond’s first words to her were an apology but her memory had come back to her after an embarrassing few seconds, “Oh yes,” she nodded gently, “we spoke.” That’s right, he came to apologize about her father’s death, how could she have forgotten that already? “He apologized for sending my father to his death,” her blunt words shocked her as they left her mouth, her eyes mirrored Daerons, going wide at the crass nature.

Daeron nodded slowly as he took in her words. Cerenna was at a loss at what to say to redeem herself. Daeron sighed, looking around, speaking lowly, “I know you may not understand how war works, but it was not Aemond’s fault. He did not bear the sword that had slain your father-”

Cerenna nodded, cutting Daeron off, “Yes, my Prince, I know that. And I believe Prince Aemond knows that as well. I believe he felt the need to apologize because the guilt weighed on his conscience, not mine.” Cerenna had tried her damndest to not seem bitter with Daeron for implying she did not understand that it wasn’t Aemond who killed her father but her bitterness bit hard at the end and Daeron winced slightly as he was taken aback by any words from her that were not saccharine sweet.

“Yes,” Daeron nodded in a way to conclude this unfortunate topic, “well, ‘tis best we sit.” He raised a hand, pointing in the direction of two chairs sitting open toward the end of the table. Cerenna and the young Prince sat beside each other silently, tension palpable, evident, brewing.

The Queen mother was to Cerenna’s left, sitting with a young girl and boy about the same age, both with Targaryen Silver hair. When the Queen mother had finally convinced the little boy to sit upright, she turned to Cerenna with a warm, but tired smile, “Ah, Lady Lannister. I apologize for my lack of attention. Jahaera and Aegon keep me quite busy these days.”

Cerennna smiled, leaning forward and looking at the future King and Queen of Westeros as they fought about who’s fork was beside their plate. “No need for an apology, Queen Mother, I imagine overseeing the tutelage of the heirs is quite a busy task.”

A shriek came from behind Alicent, she turned, quieting Aegon as he scrunching up his face angrily toward Jaehaera. Alicent turned back toward Cerenna, exasperated, “Yes, well, I never imagined I would be doing this again but-” Alicent cut herself off mid sentence with a violent twisting of her mouth, not needing to say the truth. 

Cerenna nodded understandingly before an awful silence could fill the air around them with the stench of loss, “Yet, you have retaken the role naturally, it seems.”

Alicent shook her head with a bitter twisting of her lips, “I don’t think I’ve ever taken to motherhood naturally, in truth…” Her big brown eyes searched Cerenna’s before looking behind Cerenna to her son Daeron, then returning back to Cerenna, “My hope for you is that you take to motherhood with grace. I-”

Alicent was cut off with the sharp tapping of a cane upon the stone floors. Everyone rose as the King hobbled in. As a child, Cerenna heard stories of King Viserys failing health. It had seemed that she had never known a King that didn’t have failing health. She had asked her mother when she was young why the King could not buy his health since he had all of the gold in the world. She had made the mistake of asking that question near her father; she was flogged for that. Even now, as King Aegon limped in,the question still weighed heavy on her. 

The King sat with a thud, everyone at the table lowered gracefully. The King’s breathing was labored, it filled the quiet space like the stink of a rotting destrier. Aemond shifted in his seat, clearing his throat with a half-cough. To Aegon’s right, Llarys Strong sat, eyeing Cerenna with a wicked smirk. Cerenna knew him from meetings with her father, brother and uncle. She was not a stranger to Llarys and for that, she was thankless. She did not care for his company nor his eyes on her. When she was little, she would have nightmares about him chasing her through the Rock, trying to catch her. She was thankful for his deformity, even now. 

Aegon shifted, in his seat slowly, seemingly trying to find a comfortable way to sit. Cerenna silently wondered how and if he still sat upon the throne of swords, or if another was made to accommodate the weakened King. 

“We welcome you, Lady Cerenna Lannister, to our home, to our family,” Aegon began with a tempo befitting a tired man, “and we hope that you and all of House Lannister accept our welcome as a means to bound our two houses in blood.” Aegon looked around his family, the family he had left, the family he tore apart the Seven Kingdoms to keep, the family he sacrificed blood for, his own blood. “May you provide hope for the future of House Targaryen, just as Lady Floris has.” Aegon tipped his silver side to Lady Floris who blushed and tipped her own head back. Cerenna was met with Aegon’s marred side as he turned to her, “May you be fruitful, kind, and obedient to your husband. And may he be the same to you.” Daeron nodded, Aegon looked back to Floris and Aemond strangely and tipped his head toward the pair of them as Floris settled back into her seat with a strange, twisted, forced smile. She brought her hand atop her belly again, resting another atop Aemond’s as he looked to his King with a void stare.

What? 

Alicent nodded, “Let us eat then?” She looked to her eldest, her King, in a soft pleading way. Aegon nodded.

Cerenna turned toward Daeron, confusion etched across her face as she whispered “Shall we not pray?”

Daeron shook his head, whispering to Cerenna, “No, we do not pray anymore.” 

“Oh,” Cerenna breathed, smiling with taut, downturned lips, “I see.”

Throughout the hall, the remainder of the meal sounded in silence, save the scrapes here and there from utensils on plates. Cerenna found that the void of voices had made her lose her appetite. Quiet chatter sounded again as the plates were slowly removed from the table, one by one. When the King dismissed himself to bed, he kissed Jahaera on the forehead before drifting off slowly into the night like a lone stray, followed of course, by servants and a maester; the constant maester that followed him like the Stranger himself. The air was charged with an enigmatic force; where peace lied, so did tension. Cerenna looked about the hall, taking in the surroundings of the family. Red stone, fine red tapestries, a fine, deep red tablecloth, and green clothing on the persons who inhabited the hall. It sent chills down Cerenna’s spine, recalling how farmers would skin the hides off of dead calves to introduce orphaned calves to the mothers who had lost their babes. All of this finery, all of this red, to still, at their core, remain different. 

The scraping of a chair beside her broke Cerenna from her thoughts. “Shall I walk you back to your chamber?” Daeron extended a hand, gently. Cerenna stood from the table and took it. The walk back to her chambers was peaceful as the calm, sea air moved throughout the castle; Cerenna was thankful for the fresh air coming from the East. As they arrived at her door, without so much as a word between the two for the whole duration of their walk, Daeron turned to Cerenna, “Mayhaps it would do you well to meet with Lady Floris on the morrow? I know, from personal experience, that settling into the Keep is hard when you come from…well, anywhere else.” He ended with a chuckle, scratching at the back of his palm.

“Why, that is a good idea, however,” Cerenna smiled mischievously, “perhaps I can learn to settle with someone whom I am already settled with?” 

The implication was clear, yet Daeron's smile faded. “I’ve no time tomorrow, Cerenna, I’ve to meet Aemond on plans for settling disruptions within the realm.” He steps back, crossing his arms over his chest, a ripple of tension flows through him and he’s structured to the ground. “Do not expect much of me. I have duties and, well, I- I just- well, I told you. Things are different now. Do not expect of me.”

Cerenna nodded, downcasting her eyes to the stones below them. “I understand. I am sorry.”

Obey. Uplift. Allow. The words Cerenna’s Septa spoke to her as a child come back to her as if her Speta sits inside her ear. “Your job as a wife is to obey your husband. Uplift him and his status. Allow what allowances he gives you. You should never ask for more than he is willing to give.” A dull anger burns deep within Cerenna, an anger at herself, an anger at her Septa, an anger at Daeron and all men before him. Her anger comes out as tears onto her pillow that lull her to sleep that night.

In the morning, when she wakes, she is tired as if she never slept. Her maids ready her for tea with Lady Floris, an announcement that partially shocks her and partially fills her with dread. She does not know much of Lady Floris, save for the brief encounter last night at supper, but she knows that Daeron and Aemond arranged this. And suddenly, the dull anger that she expelled in the night returns. 

Floris’ apartment was appropriately grand, as wife to the second born son. She seemed to favor golds, greens and dark colors. The table between them was decorated with a fine bouquet of winter roses, beginning to wilt. Cerenna appraised the roses carefully. From the stagnant water line on the inside of the green tinted glass, they’d not been watered in a while. Cerenna wordlessly wondered who in the castle was responsible to keep flowers in an apartment alive; a gardener? No. Maid? Perhaps. The person who treasures them? The person who gifted them?

“Aemond picked those roses for me,” Floris states, pulling Cerenna from her wondering. 

Cerenna fakes a smile, “They’re beautiful,” she lies. Looking up to Floris, she balks at the obvious way Floris is appraising her. Just like the flowers. Does she see wilt too? 

Floris stops her obvious appraising to smile toward Cerenna, “You’re beautiful.” Said with too much conviction. Cerenna is uncertain how to respond but thankfully, she doesn't have to as Floris continues, “Beautiful things don’t last here.”

Cerenna smiles wider, more to herself than anything, surprised and amused by Floris’ remark. “Just like your flowers?” 

Floris’ glances down at the sky-colored roses, “It’s easier to force something out early than to hold onto decaying relationships.” She breathes deeply, bringing a hand to her stomach. “The babe kicked, mayhaps he agrees.”

“He?”

Floris smiles, a false saccharine smile, “It’s a girl, I know it, but until she’s born, she’s a he, and he is safe.”

Cerenna leans back, perplexed by Floris. “Daeron didn’t tell me you spoke in riddles. I’m going to have to start bringing items so I can scribe for you-”

“Daeron doesn’t tell you much, does he?” She turns to look Cerenna directly in the eyes. “He doesn’t tell you about how he took a lover during the war and when he died Daeron mourned him deeper than Aegon mourned Helaena?”

“What?”

“I suppose he doesn’t. Why would he? If anyone speaks the plain truth, we are not to be believed. But- what did you use? What word? Riddles? Yes, riddles. Riddles are listened to, pondered over. You don’t get in as much trouble for riddles as you do for just speaking the plain facts. Ask Llarys clubfoot that. Look what his riddles have gained him. All because he knows how to speak to them.”

Cerenna’s head feels as if it’s spinning. “Why would you ask me here and then be cruel to me?” The hot tears behind her eyes threaten to roll. 

Floris appraises her once again before looking out her window, “I silently ask them that every single day.”

Cerenna stands, striding from the apartments and toward her own. Tears roll down her face as her head spins. Thoughts of Daeron, thoughts of Floris, thoughts of herself swim inside her head. Her breathing feels heavy, her footfalls seem light. She rounds a corner and runs into an unstoppable force. Falling to the ground, she catches herself with her palms and bottom. Wiping the tears on the backs of her hands, she looks up to see Prince Aemond, shaken by what just transpired. “Lady Cerenna, are you okay?” His hand extends toward her and she takes it, hauling herself up with great difficulty.

“I’m fine, thank you,” her words are choked, she wipes her tears again.

“I regret to call you untruthful, but Cerenna, that seems the most obvious of lies.” His arm wraps around hers and his other hand comes to rest atop the hand that is holding him. “Let us get you back to your apartment.”

As he walks her to her apartment, Cerenna, in her grief and stunned state, gathers what little courage it takes to ask, “Did you know Daeron took a lover in the war?”

The color drains from Aemond’s face as he evades the question, “Let us get you inside.” Ushered through her door, Aemond shuts it behind them. Suddenly, when they’re alone, Cerenna’s boldness grows, feeling strangely at ease around Aemond. She steps toward him, peering holes through him, awaiting an answer for her prior question. “Cerenna,” he begins, “asking questions that will hurt you-”

“I have come to the Red Keep to fulfill my duty. I have not spent a whole two days here and I already feel as though I am set to fail.” Cerenna turned from Aemond in anguish, fresh tears beginning to streak down her cheeks. “I cannot- cannot fail this. I cannot fail him.”

Soft footfalls sounded behind her until she felt a presence at her back. She turns, realizing the impropriety of the situation, stepped back to set some space between the two. Aemond’s sharp, downward smirk flashes across his face, as if he gets an idea. “I could help you.”

Cerenna’s eyes search his, looking for dishonesty, jesting…she only finds something sinister, something that makes her feel at edge; tense. A cold feeling of wanting the stranger out of her chamber washes over her and she heads past him, to the door. She grasps the handle, almost to ask him to get out when he says, “Yes, Daeron took a lover and yes, he perished in the war. That doesn’t mean he will not be fulfilled with you, it just means he may be…displeased with your inexperience.”

A lightning bolt of offense shocks Cerenna in the heart, “The Gods and Men proclaim I must remain chaste until marriage. What you are proposing- Get out!”

Aemond grins like a fox as he takes a large step backward, moving further in her chambers and angering Cerenna further, “There is much more to happiness than that Cerenna. Life at court, life with a man… I can help you.” He picks up her feathered pen on the desk, admiring the heart shaped charm at the base, “You’re just a girl Cerenna…” she feels deduced, recoiled, angry again, “what I’m offering is an education in the life of the court. One my own wife would have benefitted from if the circumstances were better.”

“One your own wife will be outraged with if she were to find out-”

“She won’t. I wouldn’t do that to her.”

Cerenna scoffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest, protectively. “Get out.”

Aemond saunters toward the door, toward her, slowly. As his towering figure presides over her own, she is reminded that it’s true, she is just a girl, a girl who is trying to figure out how to navigate a life at Court, a life fulfilling duties to a man who loved another, a life she is wholly unprepared for despite appearing in a shell that suggests otherwise. HIs final words to her before he exits, “Think about it,” echo in her mind as she drifts off to sleep that night. Mulling over the benefits and disadvantages of seeking help in a source so profound. She thinks of the winter roses and Floris’ words, It’s easier to force something out early than to hold onto decaying relationships. Should she allow the relationship between her and Daeron decay? Let her inexperience get the better of her and fall into a rhythm of her own, unmatched. Should she let him be unhappy? Marred to her performance at court? To her duties to him?

She decides, before she drifts to sleep, to water the flowers. 

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[livingdeadmlm]

HI!! I wanted to request a trans/afab reader who works really hard around the camp/helps provide for it so Arthur noticing this, decides to take him out on a little get away trip for a day. Just spending time together, and then later that night Arthur basically 'treats' him some more with like praise & Reader just becomes a mess from overstimulation🫣? Also just wanted to say I've been a fan for a while now and everytime you post I eat it UP<3!!

So I hope this is okay! Cause while I’m personally Afab I wasn’t sure what terms to use so 😭 the clit is referred to as a dick lol also also sorry if this isn’t good I’ve been working on it forever worried it wouldn’t be good 💔

Thank you so much for being a fan!! Feels weird to say I have those! I never thought I would lol!

There is a lot of credit to give to Miss Grimshaw. While she could be bitter and mean, she had to be to keep this camp running. No matter who you were, if you were sleeping in their camp, you had to do chores or at least be yelled at to do them.

But in recent months, you hadn’t been yelled at once by Grimshaw. But even worse, you became her example of how each person at camp should be.

Lugging the heavy sacks to the Pearson wagon, Grimshaw could be heard scolding someone, a surly girl, for sinning and wanting some rest.

“You lazy sacks! This is a camp! Look at (Last Name)! They’re up doing plenty of work! morning to night!” Your ears burned as a few camp men glanced over and chuckled. The sack fell from your shoulders, and you huffed.

Walking to the hay bales, you greeted Kieran, who was brushing Old Boy; he gave you a sympathetic look. The hay poked into your hand as you lugged the bale to the other group of horses. They sniffed at your hands and

Your face was sweaty as you walked to a large barrel of water. Splashing the fresh water on your face, a large hand-held your shoulder.

“Hey there, big man.” Arthur raised a hand to shield your eyes from the harsh midday sun, his silhouette a welcome sight against the brightness.

“Hello, Arthur.” A small smile crept onto your face as he slid his free hand into his pocket, a casualness to his demeanor that made you feel at ease. “I’m headin’ into town. Why don’t ya join me?” He nodded toward the horses grazing nearby, their coats gleaming in the sunlight.

“What, are we planning to rob somewhere in town?” You wiped the water that dripped from your chin. It had been a while since you’d set foot in a town; your recent ventures mainly had revolved around odd jobs with Sean or Javier or trying to catch a game in the woods.

“Naw, just thought it’d be good for ya.” Arthur gave you a reassuring grin as he mounted his horse, gesturing for you to follow.

“Is that alright? Or will Grimshaw be mad that I took her best boy?” You groaned as you reached for your horse, mounting the saddle. Your horse flicks its tail back and forth and twitches its ears, eager to move around.

“I ain’t her best boy!” Arthur chuckled and shook his head. “I just don’t like it when she yells at me.” You let your head drop, a weary sigh escaping your lips as your horse fell into step just behind his. The rhythmic sound of hooves against the ground filled the air.

“I’m just pullin’ your leg,” Arthur replied, glancing over at you. “Besides, I’ve been watching ya these past few months.” He pulled his horse alongside yours, both mounts maintaining a steady pace. “You know, you’re getting real big. Your arms are about twice the size since we first got here.”

The comment flushed your cheeks; you had always preferred buying clothes a size too big, but recently, they wrapped around your arms a bit tighter. It's the same with your pants, feeling more snug than they used to.

“Guess I have been gettin’ a bit bigger,” you rolled your shoulders—the slight ache in your back from lifting most of the day.

You couldn’t remember which town the camp was near now as you hitched your horse and followed Arthur into the general store. You looked around at the shelves and watched Arthur pick up a pack of cigarettes before stopping at the store catalog.

“Why don't you get yerself some new clothes?” Arthur motioned to the book, flipping through the pages. “I don’t have much money to spare. I could use some new gloves, though.” You looked down at the pair you currently had on. The leather was incredibly worn down; it didn’t do much for you anymore.

“You know, we just got some new riding gloves in. I’ll grab them; give me a moment.” As you joined Arthur at the counter, the shopkeeper entered a small back room.

Arthur pulled you closer by your hip, saying, “Just get what you want; don’t worry about it.”

“You sure, Arthur? I can pay you back next time I’m on a job-”

“Consider it a gift, no strings.” Arthur smiled before sliding the catalog to you,

There are absolutely some strings that were being pulled after the two of you had a meal at the saloon. Arthur insisted on wearing your nice clothes for a test drive. You’d heard of private poker rooms in saloons, which is where you figured the two of you were going.

Arthur’s arm around your shoulder, not many people paying the two of you any mind, as a few men started to get loud. Yelling and getting physical.

But Arthur led you down a hallway that even the working women weren’t standing in. The room was nice and clean, but no underground poker was going on.

“What? You got me a hotel for the night?”

“Well, you’ve been workin’ real hard, big man,” Arthur’s hands undid your gun holster. It fell to the ground with a thud, “Good men get rewarded-” Arthur kissed the shell of your ear. “Do you want a reward?” Arthur stepped forward slowly, one hand cupping your face, his other hand waiting in the air for your go-ahead.

The back of your knees hit the mattress, your mind in a swirl. Arthur was usually very giving. Willing to donate half his share to the camp even if he did so much work. He’s more than okay with giving money to those in need.

But as you whispered a yes, you were learning just how much Arthur could give.

A few marks across your thighs, indents from his teeth and discoloration from him sucking the skin.

His tongue teases the sensitive heat of your crotch. Not giving you more than just a few soft licks in the past few minutes. It drove you insane. He insisted this was a reward, but it felt like torture.

He kept your hips pressed into the bed, not letting you seek out any more stimulation.

“I thought this was meant to be a-a reward, Arthurr! You’re just teasing me!” Your foot lightly kicked against Arthur’s back, and his vest was cool to the touch against your body.

Arthur peeked one eye open; the clear blue color was breathtaking.

What little stimulation you did have was gone completely. His mouth barely grazing your lips as he spoke, “One day of treating you and yer already becomin’ spoiled.” You shied under him. Unable to argue as his tongue went flat against your dick, slow, relaxed movements like this were a casual affair. As if it's happened hundreds of times before.

Your leg twitches, slightly bumping his head to the side. The angle made the heat of his tongue go so much deeper than it did before.

You bit the side of your hand trying to muffle yourself to avoid arising suspicious in such a packed place. But Arthur noticed the attempt and reached up your torso. Grabbing your arm and pinning it next to you on the mattress.

“Naw, let me hear you.” He sounded almost drunk as he spoke before going right back in, keeping your arm firm to your side.

Your shaky cries spurred Arthur on, his nose bumping against your dick as its tongue slid deeper down, slow and steady.

The intrusion wasn’t harsh, but rather smooth as he held your thighs around his head. Each moan from you was met with a grunt from Arthur. He couldn’t see much from his position but what he could see, your head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, hands pulling at the bed sheets. It made his own dick twitch in his pants.

He could feel you twitch with each lick and suck he blessed your dick with, adoring how you tried to pull him closer into you. Your body felt like it was on fire, your legs growing weak. Like Arthur was pulling pure energy from you with each dip of his tongue.

“Come on big man, show me what you got.”

When your moans got louder, his tongue moved faster. Matching the short and fast humps you did against his face. He was going at it like a starved man now, his slow licks being taken over by greed as you came.

Trying to save every drop of you, stubbornly keeping his head in place as you tried to push him away to catch your breath. “Arthur! Please, I need a break!” tears pricked your eyes and when your words began to slur into nothing but babbling did Arthur pull back.

Wiping his beard and chin, he propped himself up by his elbows. He watched you carefully, kissing the soft skin of your inner thigh as you caught your breath.

“What’s one more?” Your throat was dry at the suggestion but the familiar sensation in your stomach was back all the same.

“One more?” Arthur nodded, slowly sinking back down onto the mattress readjusting your legs over his wide shoulders.

“Just one more.”

Arthur kissed your dick directly, that small conversation wasn’t nearly enough to recuperate.

With a gasp you reached and pulled Arthur’s light brown hair for stability. It almost burned as his head tilted practically making out with your lower half with his eyes shut, like he was lost in it.

Such an erotic display would be burned into your mind forever.

Arthur groaned at the pressure but continued the firm licks to your dick, slowly slipping deeper and deeper into your hole with each pass to keep you on edge.

Every noise that surrounded you was muffled, like a pillow was shoved over your head.

You could feel the second orgasm fast approaching, being so sensitive it didn’t take much effort to toss you over the edge again.

You gripped onto the bed sheet, wrinkling the once smooth covers as one particularly harsh suck from Arthur made your vision go white.

“Aw there ya go.”

A numbing feeling consumed half your body, only more intense thanks to Arthur still not stopping. It was just too much, way too much. You felt like you could die. Your moans sounded more like a strangled cry as Arthur kissed along with your sex. Mumbling to himself how maybe just one more, how you’re such a hard worker why not spoil you some more?

What a way to go out.

[spidybaby]

GQ Couple Interview

Summary: You and your boyfriend got invited to do a GQ interview.

Warnings: cursing

A/N: Doing this while I eat dinner 😔 is very short, but I hope you like it ❤️🥺 also I'm working on more than just these. So be patient with me, pleaaaaaseeee ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Madrid Boys x Actress!Reader

Jude

"Just be yourselves, read the questions, and have fun!" The manager of GQ says.

You two nod, you squish Jude's hand. The makeup girl was finishing retouching your powder.

"Done!" She smiles. You give a small thank you.

You sit properly on the chair. You can hear the cameraman count and give you the big. "We are recording." Shout.

You take a look at the questions. "What is my favorite ice cream to eat with your mom's brownies?"

"Oh, you love that German brand with the Cardi B whip cream."

"Ufff, that cream is amazing." You say, feeling the craving of it.

"Now, darlin'" He smirks. "What is my favorite goal that I've ever scored?"

You blink a few times. "Is it the one you scored in the ammm, champion league?"

"Wrong!" He shouts. "It was one that Erling assisted me."

"Never heard of it." You say, making him roll his eyes. "Anyways, what is the name of my character in Euphoria?"

"Rue!" He says happily.

You can't help but look at the camera, it looks like a scene from The Office. He has a smug on his face, proud of his answer.

"That's Zendaya."

"Oh," He says, smug falling from his face. "Damn, Lexy!"

"That's not even close!" You say, laughing.

"Maddie." He names.

"That's Alexa, you know her."

"Fuck, I don't know." He says, still thinking about the name. "Next question."

"What do you mean next questio- fine." You say, grabbing another card. "What is my favorite order when we visit your parents in the UK?"

"Fish and chips with some side of green beans, but also you love the sausage."

"I love a good sausage." You smile at the camera.

You don't say that in a dirty or fun way. You say that because you do love food, and British food was one big thing for you to discover.

"But don't worry, she gets a good one." He says, winking at the camera. "What's my favorite food order?" He asks.

"So this is where Mister Jude." You start, but then paused. "Jude!" You say, looking at him, hitting his arm with the card. "You can't say that."

"What's my favorite book to read?"

"I haven't even answered the first question. His order depends on where we are at. If we are at a steak house, he somehow wants a salad."

"Not true, I love steak."

"And I we are at maybe Olive Garden, during the pre season trip, he wants a big 16 oz steak."

"Told ya! Love steak." He smiles.

"So if you can describe me in three words, what would they be?"

He thinks them, trying to find the best ones.

"Smart!" He smiles at you. "Inspiring and"

You can't help but blush, you love that he finds you inspiring and a smart person.

"That is so cut-"

"She's also fart the lou-"

"DON'T! STOP RECORDING!"

Kylian

"Do we do it in English, Spanish or French?" Kylian asks.

"If it's okay with you, Mister mbappe. Please, in English."

He nods, making the lady walk back to the cameraman to talk to them. She keep looking over at Kylian.

"Monsieur Mbappé, veuillez signer mon maillot. Oui, c'est là qu'est mon sein." You say with sarcasm. (Mister Mbappe, please sign my jersey. Yes, here where my boob is)

He rolls his eyes while laughing. "Don't be jealous." He says, smiling at you. "I'm not looking at anyone when I have you here."

"So when I'm not here. You do look at others?"

"Okay, time for questions." He says, calling the attention of the set. "Cause you are getting out of hand." He says, joking with you.

You roll your eyes, laughing at him. You know he knows you are joking and you love how he jokes back.

"Okay, here are your questions." The lady says to you. "And Mister Mbappe, here are yours." She smiles at him.

You look over at him, wanting to roll your eyes. "Okay, thank you." He says. "Ready, amour?" He asks.

They let you know that you are being filmed and to start with the questions.

You check the questions before making one. "Oh, what was the name of my pet hamster?"

Kylian frowns. "The one who died pooping?"

You look at the camera. "He was a saint." You say, pouting at the thought of him.

"Chili?" He says, more like asking. "Wait no, Paco?"

"Paco is my sister's dog!" You say, laughing at him.

"Fuck!" He says, thinking harder. "Was it Harry? Like Harry Styles?"

"Yes! My sweet creature!" You smile. "I love Harry Styles, fun fact about me by the way."

"My turn," He smiles. "What's my movie?"

"Easy, you love The Great Gatsby." You smile.

He shakes his head. "Noup."

"Ammm, the teenage mutant ninja turtles?" You ask, joking.

"Hahaha." He faked laughed, then making the most fake angry face. "You are so funny."

"Okay, next question." You ignore him. "Who is my favorite parent?"

"But my movie!" He shouts. "Also, none, you have beef with everybody." He side eye you.

"I do not." You say, frowning. "Oh, I remember, your favorite movie is that one with tom cruise, the one where he flies planes."

"Oui!" He smiles. "Also you favorite parent is your mom." He smiles.

You roll your eyes at him, "what is my f-"

"Hey, my turn!" He says, pouting. "Do you know my favorite goal?"

You think for a while. "Maybe the one against Barcelona, when you were in PSG?" You ask.

"Yep." He nods, waiting for you to look away, then he shakes his head no to the camera. "What is the name of my mother?"

"Fayza Lamari." You say in a very obvious tone. "Love her. Even more than her son."

He looks at you, going from a smile to a frown. "Rude." He says.

"Okay, fun fact about Kylian." You announce. "He's a sucker for praising."

"Tu n'es pas censé dire ça." (You were not supposed to say that)

You look at him, sensing him a kiss. "Je t'aime."

"What type of pasta is my favorite?"

You think, he really loves pasta. "Carbonara." You say, thinking about that being the only one he asks you to prepare. "If you say no, I'll know you are lying."

"It's..." He does this pause. "True." He smiles.

"I knew it, bébé." You smile. You read the next question. "If you can say one of my characters is your favorite, which one?"

He thinks for a moment, trying to order his ideas of which one of the roles you have played is his favorite.

"Maybe when you did marvel." He smiles. "Love that movie."

"I know you love that one!" You smile, getting up to hug him. "Fun fact about Kylian." You say again.

"Okay, we are done." He says, covering your face with the cards. "Cut the camera." He says, laughing at you trying to fight him.

Arda

"Are you sure you want me to be on this interview?" He asks, worrying that he might not be welcomed.

"Babe, of course." You laugh, grabbing his hand. "We are in this together." You smile.

"Are you quoting high school musical again?"

"Love doing that." You smile. "Okay, we are ready!"

"Okay, everybody. We are starting in three, two, one." The director yells, giving you the signal to start.

"Hi everybody, I'm Y/n."

"And I'm Arda."

Brahim

"And we are doing the GQ Couples Interview." You both say, smiling at the camera.

"You start." You say, grabbing his hand and giving his hand a squish.

"What is the name of my childhood dog?" He asks, reading the card. "Wait, I don't have a childhood dog."

"He doesn't." You shake your head. "But I did. What was his name?"

"Chipotle?"

"Chili." You smile.

"What was my dream job as a child?" He asks.

"He wanted to be a bread man." You smile, trying not to chuckle. "Like the one of Shrek, the cookie guy."

"I love bread and cookies, so I wanted to be a bread guy, like a huge piece of bread." He laughs.

"If I was in a desert island, what are three things I would take with me?"

You think for a while, Arda is someone simple, he's not into materialistic stuffs.

"A football ball, your favorite pillow, and me because I want to swim while you play with the ball."

"I mean, it says things, and you are not a thing." He replies, smiling shyly at you.

"I know, baby." You whisper, reassuring him. "Name three of the characters I have done."

"I like when you did that Disney princess movie," he says, not knowing what the name is.

"It wasn't a Disney princess, baby. I was in Barbie." You laugh at him being so confused.

"Oh, shoot." He laughs too. "It's true, she spent days, weeks even saying < Hi, barbie! >"

"Hi, Barbie!" You say in that tone everybody used at the Barbie set. "Okay, name the rest. You still have three because Miss Disney princess is not right."

"Barbie," He smiles to the camera, knowing he has that one right. "The one in La Casa de Papel, and the one in Youth."

"Can you at least name one?"

"I just did, Barbie!"

But that's not-"

"Goodbye, Barbie." He says, waving at the camera.

"But we are not done."

"He said three questions." He points to the calera man. "Plus, we have Taco Bell in the dressing room."

"Joder, maybe a break!" You say, hearing your stomach growl.

"What's my favorite cookie?" He asks, after a few warming up questions.

"That's not even a question, Brahim."

"You see this?" He asks the camera. "This is why I always say that you need to protect your hearts."

"It's the matcha one from that Chinese Restaurant, God damn." You laugh.

"Now, this is real love, people." He smiles. "Love you, baby."

"Love you too." You smile. "Now, if I was an animal fighting among the avengers, which animal would I be?"

"Who?" He stares confused at the camera. "Did she just made up the question?"

"I need to think." He says, waiting a few minutes before answering. "A crocodile."

"Yes!" You smile. "Love crocos."

"She also loves crocs." He smiles. "We have a matching pair."

"Now, back to the normal questions." You chuckle the questions. "Tell me the name of my favorite movie I was in?"

He looks at the camera, confused, looking like a The Office episode. "The marvels?"

"Wrong, it's was Neighbors."

"Tell me your favorite trophy I won."

"The Champions, because that day I surprised you when I told you I wasn't coming to the finals, and I did."

"Loved that," He smiles, getting closer to you, kissing your lips. "Now, who do I think would be the perfect 11 on a team."

"Qué caraj-"

"Amor, language."

[loveink-214]

Seoul City

✨ idol!johnny x you or idol!jaehyun x you or idol!jeno x you

genre: smut, basically pwp, little bit of fluff

warnings: smut mdni please

I didn't specify who in the fic, you're free to imagine who the main character is, but I'm leaning towards Johnny, hence the tattoo description and his pet name ;) Started this fic using a lyric from Seoul City - Jennie as my prompt.

🪶 Preview.

Your superstar boyfriend just came home from his US tour spent and exhausted.

Would you make me your boss, pretty please?

Pretty please, let me ease your mind

Look at me, can you breathe? (Ah, ah)

You find yourself humming to some love song while brushing your teeth because your lover boy was finally back home after 8 weeks abroad, leaving for his group tour in the U.S. You were already prepared from head to toe hours before his arrival. You both already had dinner accompanied by small talk, and you’re ready to let off some built-up steam you had after so long not having him. After washing up, you leave your en suite bathroom, rushing to your bed where your boyfriend sits. You throw yourself over him, causing him to let out a grunt of protest, but he still willingly catches you, giggling and attacks you with smooches after you are wrapped in his arms.

“You miss me?” You asked while correcting your position, so you were kneeling over him with both legs caging his body, eyes never leaving his beautiful hazel eyes you miss so much.

“So much princess.” He leaves a lingering kiss on your temple before answering you, which succeeds in making you feel warm and wanted. “It was a hell to not have this sweet girl as my personal body pillow for three weeks”, he continues while you are still giggling like a middle schooler in love.

“What do you got for me here, princess?” He brings you to sit more upright, fingers running along the hollow neckline of your silk robe, subtly asking you to show him what surprise you have for him since his arrival. He was itching to just pull the robe off your body since he saw you, but he needed the dinner. He has been starving since getting on the plane, and he feels like passing out if he tries to pounce on you in that state. He is still fucking tired now but he’s desperate wants to see his favorite girl’s body and he also doesn’t want you to think that he’s not appreciating you if he just ask you to surprise him in the morning tomorrow. So, he gathered up his senses for the show bestowed upon him.

“Mmhh… I got it yesterday, you said you wanted to see me in red when you come home” You remember how he tells you that red complements your skin so much he wanted to see you wear red because 98% of your wardrobe consists of earthy tones & colors, nearly 0 pop of colors, including bright red.

“Pretty~” He complimented in almost a whisper while running his eyes and fingers on your body.

“Yeah? It’s got more surprises if you pull the lace.” You tease him, “You little minx.” He kisses the tip of your nose before proceeding to focus on your choice of clothing.

“Shit, kitten” He pull the string of your robe, letting the fabric fall to reveal the bright red lingerie that has your body barely covered. The fabric was 80% transparent, showcasing your boobs and perky nipples enough through it, and there’s a slit down the middle which expose the skin down to your belly button, and it paired with a lacy thong with a ribbon on either side of your hips. Ugh, his favorite. A lingerie that barely covers anything with a color that is a stark contrast with your milky white skin.

“You like it?” You ask, your hand is on the back of his head, playing and twirling his soft hair.

“I do, very much” His pointer finger brushed against your nipple that is barely covered by fabric, down to your exposed stomach and he lands his hand on your ass to squeeze it just enough for you to let out a squeak. He cursed mentally when he feels his length is hardening, how come he is not when there’s basically a Goddess sitting on his cock right now? He really wants to bang you so hard right now, but he physically cannot. He’s too tired from the turbulent weeks he’s had so far.

“Look… as much as I miss you and how tempting your whole look is, I need you to be a good girl for me and wait until at least tomorrow morning, could you do that? I promise i’ll take care of you so good, my cock is yearning for you so so bad but i’m too tired right to even move right now” His eyebrows furrowed and he bites his lips in anticipation of your reaction because he never rejects your wish to engage in sexual activities with him before and he’s afraid he’s gonna make you upset.

“Okay, I understand, it’s fine… I didn’t expect you to come home this spent, tho. Wanna tell me what happened?” He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, he’s so glad that he has a very kind and understanding girlfriend.

“It’s just… Let’s just say I did a whole month’s worth of schedule in 5 days, and not all of it is working well like I want it to be. A lot of shit annoys the fuck out of me that’s all” He finally let out his thought and surrender to your affection, and part of him doesn’t want to make you feel small because he rejects you, and that he had a valid reason to do that.

“But you’re here now. It means you’ve handled it well, baby, you did well.” You always know what to say to him, which makes him love you even more. 

“You were always such a good girl to me.” He’s thanking you as he strokes your cheek in adoration. You purr at his touch and rub your cheek against his palm even more before you bring him closer to your hug.

“You’re my good, little minx girl, aren’t you?” You weren’t expecting him to make a move on you, but here he is, sucking on your exposed chest, leaving love bites and trail of kisses along your cleavage before you cup his face to stop him.

“Hey, it’s okay if you don’t feel like doing anything tonight,” You say to him, afraid that he might strain himself just to please you.

“You’re ruining me, sweetheart,” He said while chuckling, deliberately grinding up against you so you feel how aroused he is. You get it. He’s currently split between wanting to get his beauty sleep, ignoring his growing needs and have you tomorrow or just fuck you now, ignoring the red alert from his exhausted body because you’re fucking irresistible. 

“I could take care of you.” Your suggestion makes him raise his eyebrow in question. There’s no way his baby fuck doll would take care— get control of him. It’s the other way around. He was the one who would need to take care of you, pleasing you, controlling you, nurturing you. You’re just his baby girl. He never imagined you would be willing to take control, and he never imagined submitting to you.

“Yeah? And how is my pillow princess gonna take care of me?” He teases— and kind of challenges you. He caresses your waist up and down, then to your bottom to give you a nice slap that gets you mewling. You are indeed his pillow princess. Him dominating you goes without saying, and your job is just to look pretty for him, let him savor your body as he likes, and take everything he gives you like a good girl you are. It’s always been that way. The only times he would let you have a little control were because you’re being naughty, so he would tell you to earn what you want by yourself. Other than that? he was the one who did all the jobs to make both of you reach your climaxes.

“I could be your boss, you could be my pillow prince under me and take it like a good boy you are” You say in the sultriest tone you got, hands were rubbing on his toned chest up to his neck while teasingly grinding your core to his clothed rock hard cock.

“Fuck” He cursed. 99% surrendering to the idea of you taking care of him. You bent down to kiss him, no one is trying to assert their dominance, just a slow and wet kiss that lets you both savor the way each other’s warmth and tastes. He licks your lips slowly before sucking on your bottom lips, while he lets you unbutton his linen shirt, grazing your soft fingers onto the bit of exposed skin whenever a button is undone because you know how your feathery touch on his skin riles him up. He lets out a ragged breath when you circle your forefinger on his nipple and pinch it lightly while pulling him into a wet kiss that you lead this time. When you take off his shirt off his body, you leisurely eyes how he damn good he looks. Your fingers tracing along his tattoo on his shoulder blade, down to his left arm, before you glide your hands on both of his buff pumped arms, which you swear weren’t as big when he met you 8 weeks ago.

“Let me ease your mind, would you?” His cock spring up so eagerly when you finish to unbuckle his pants, standing proud against his stomach so beautifully with little bead of precum oozing from his slit. You stroke his length, unconsciously letting out a whimper at the thought of having his cock after being in a sex drought when he was gone. He lets out a disappointed grunt when you stop, but his attention shifts when you stand on your knees to take off your robe, your thong, and shimmy his pants down until he’s completely naked under you. His gasped as his breath was stuck in his throat and eyes were locked with how your boobs jiggles with the way you move. You know how obsessed he is with your boobs. He loves playing around with your boobs, he always takes his time to suck on your tits, sometimes even goes on a mission to make you cum from tit play. If he wasn’t so lethargic, he would definitely ask for a boob job.

“Breathe, big boy, eyes up here,” He snaps his eyes up to meet your eyes, promptly pleading to you so desperately, "Suck me off, please." His wish is your command. 

“Lie back down for me,” You tell him, which he obeys so fast. You caress his cheek in adoration. He has never been this ‘small’ under you. Your big buff boyfriend, who’s always been the strong pillar for you, is crumbling under your touch.

“Good boy.” He wants to snicker at your comment, but instead, he lets out a chuckle. Never would he have imagined you to compliment him like he would compliment you when you take his command. He throws his head back on the headboard when you kiss and lick his earlobe, teasing his most sensitive sweet spots only you know before you went lower to his neck, getting more feisty as you kiss, then suck and bite his skin until you reddish purple marks were seen all over his neck. You keep your left hand busy playing with his left nipple and you continue to stroke his cock languidly, just enough to bring him a tease of pleasure.

“I miss your warm mouth around my cock” He whispers to you, pulling your hand off of his chest to cup your palm and kissing it so softly, while his eyes is locked with yours, pleading to you once again. You smile and nod at him, willingly fulfilling his need because you need him just as badly. That’s all you need before you go down to his chest to waist, leaving trail of wet kisses and licks before you give more attention on hip close to the base of his cock, leaving the first ever love bite on his waist which makes him gasped from the sensation. It was his first time he ever received such a touch because he never allowed you to tease him this far, usually when you got to his waist, he would bring your cock to closer to your face, tapping the head of his cock impatiently on your cheek and lips, demanding you to go on and suck him.

But tonight was different. He promised to let you take care of him, so he does nothing and lets you worship his body. He shut his brain down the moment you lay your hand on his cock. It’s wrong for him not to admit that it feels heavenly to receive such teasing from you; it was a nice change of game for him. And because you don’t see any resistance, you continue to pepper kisses, leaving love bites after love bites on both of his thighs. When you look up at him to see his expression, he is already looking at you with the most loving eyes, yet full of arousal. You smirk at him before you go down to a soft kiss the skin near his heavy ball sack, before naughtily giving a teasing lick on his balls.

"So this is why you like me taking time kissing you down there." You let out a small chuckle remembering the first time you told him that you like having his mouth on your thigh, you pull your face off of his thigh to ask him, "Does it feel good, big boy?" 

"It feels amazing, sweetheart." Then, you caress his thigh to hip slowly as you watch his cock twitching, growing with excitement. But maybe the dom in him couldn’t help when he’s so naturally grabbing the nape of your neck to the base of his cock which is already hard and in heat, waiting to be enveloped by the warmth of your mouth. You giggle softly before grabbing his girthy length with your right hand and start to give kisses all over his cock and licking and sucking his balls while stroking on his length slowly that he goes crazy for. You didn’t tease for long when you heard him whimpering because tonight was is all about him and only him, so you put his tip on your tongue, and start to slowly swallowing him as far as you can take and stroke the rest of his length that you couldn’t take in your mouth with your right hand.

Giving him a head was always a pleasure to you because you love his cock that much. It’s just long enough to reach out the perfect spots inside your pussy but Oh Lord- his girth is to be worshipped for, always succeed to make you feel him for hours and hours after he fuck you senseless every time. And the smell of him? to die for. With his size, it’s always been a challenge for you to take him all in your mouth, but you love the challenge. You love getting cock-drunk by him.

His deep groans are what keep you stretching your limit to fit even more of his length until it hits the back of your mouth. Maybe it was a whore instinct to take him all, your eyes are closed, brows furrowed, jaw aching from being open wide to take him, lewd gagging sound is loud coming from how much you try to fit his cock, mix of spits and precum was dripping onto your hand, his length, even to his balls and ass.

“Easy there sweetheart, you’re already making me feel amazing” He reminds you sweetly, caressing your hair and cheek, smiling at you when you lift your head away from his cock. You deliberately suck on his angry red cock head a lot harder to make a popping sound with your plumped up lips, then lapping at his pre-cum dripping from on his slit while looking at him.

“I love your cock so much, it got me cock drunk every time” You say to him while your hand is still stroking his cock slowly but your grip is hard and you intentionally twist your hand when you reach near his tip, knowing very well that was the spot for him.

“Yeah?” He smirks, playing along with your act.

“M-hm.. You got such a pretty cock for me, daddy” He cursed at the pet name you got him. It’s rare for you to call him that, but it gets him every time. The way the word rolls on your tongue is perfect for him.

“It’s mine, it’s mine to use, mine to please, right, daddy?” He throws his head back when you lick along the underside of his shaft before dipping down and giving gentle sucks on both of his balls, hollowing your cheek and lapping at the skin before pulling it out with a loud pop which earns a beautiful deep moan from him. Before you continue back to suck his cock, he grips your hair, wanting you to look at him.

“Baby please~ I need to be inside you” He says it like he would die in seconds if he didn’t get your pussy. You grant his wishes by grabbing the base of his cock and line it up with your entrance. Your moan slips out when you feel the stretch from the head of his cock. The first slip was always so exciting, the intrusion was familiar, but nothing you could get bored with. As you continue to sink on his cock, you let out a train of cursed from how delicious the stretch is, engulfing his length as slowly to enjoy the girth and every ridges of his pretty cock until you bottom out.

“Shit” He throws his head back when your pussy clench on him instinctively. It feels like a reward for him to feel your tight cunt gripping his cock so heavenly after almost 6 weeks he has gone dry without you. He caress your waist down to your ass, knowing that you would need time to accept his length in you after not taking him for so long. 

Usually, he would slap your ass along with a degrading look on his eyes as a silent command for you to move and please him, but he didn’t today. He just wants to savor whatever you have for him, because he trusts you would do good for him. You were always his good fuck baby doll to him, he doesn’t doubt you to give him the utmost pleasure you could give him.

At first, you were a bit unsure of what to do because you rarely take control— in fact, he never gave you control unless it’s a special occasion or he wants to make you earn it. But seeing him taking what you gave him so submissively since you’ve started, you know he will take whatever you give him. So you ride him as your liking, mid-paced but deep. He throws you compliments here and there, and his hand was all over your body, groping your ass, hips, stomach and up to your boobs, playing with your hardened nipples exactly how you like it. 

“I can feel you dripping on me, you close baby?” His comment makes you chuckle. 

“Yeah” Was your simple answer because your brain is already too mushy to form a sentence, and he didn’t need you to answer anyway, he already knows because he’s that well-versed with your body, so it was easy to tell that you’re already near your high. He knows by the way your cunt tighten up even more around his cock and how your walls pulse a lot more frequent. It makes him weak and it trigger his own high, your grip on his cock is feels amazing he was sure he spurts a bit of load in you. 

“Pussy’s so tight for me, kitten” He tries to shift his focus on something else than his orgasm because he still wants to feel you longer and he wants to feel you cumming on his cock, it’s been so long for him not to feel it.

“Come on, cum on my cock” He encourages you, his hands are both on your waist to steady you. When you feel like the band in your stomach near snapping, you lift your body so you’re sitting upright, pouncing on his cock erratically, showcasing how your tits bounce, and your perfect body and curve under the dim lighting of your room for his eyes only. You feel your big waves are coming, but it is definitely harder than what you usually get. Uh-oh. You know what it is. You could feel a rush of wetness trickling down his length, and when you look down, he gives you a knowing look.

“Fuck” You cursed, while almost screaming as you pull away from his cock. You feel a gush of liquid splattering from your hole, drenching his lower half and the sheet under you. You hug his shoulder while you’re squirting, needing him to ground you down through your climax. He whispering you praises as he strokes your entrance and clit back and forth, triggering a few more squirts coming out of you before you cry against his ear to stop him.

“That was a big one- you okay? Had enough?” He asks lovingly after giving you a few moments to recover. You shakes your head and starting to grind on his hard as ever cock, waiting to be engulfed in your warm hole again.

“I’m sorry, it’s supposed to be about you… i need you to cum for me” You said while pressing kisses along his jaw line and lining up your entrance with his tip.

“Baby, trust me i love watching you squirt, it’s the sexiest sight” He assure you, while helping you to sink back down on his cock. You kiss him on the lips before you bring yourself up, even though your legs feel like giving up on you, you push through, bouncing and circling your hips whenever you bottom out, so intensely like you know would drive him wild.

"Babe- baby… Don’t-“ He was a beautiful mess under you, it makes you want to ruin him even more.

“Why?” You furrow your eyebrows, questioning him, you thought he liked that. You want to continue your moves before he grips your waist so hard, but he’s much stronger than you, so you slow down your moves on him.

“I’m gonna bust too fast if you do that,” He reasons. You’re too much for him to keep holding on to his orgasm.

“It’s okay, you can come.” You tap on his cheek lovingly, trying to bring him back into sub-space he’s clearly in.

“I want to feel you longer.” You bent down to kiss him, giving him time to feel you without extra stimulation. He accepts your kiss, sloppily kissing you back and almost not moving because he lets you overpower him, but you know it’s because he’s been holding off his climax, his brain must be too foggy from the pleasure and constant stimulation. Just like what he always makes you feel when he dick you down so good, every single time.

“You can have me anytime as long as you want later honey, it’s okay if you wanna cum” You whisper to him after stopping the kiss. You smirk when you see his hazy eyes almost closing, and the grip on your waist loosens. Damn God you love this fucked out look on him so much.

“Baby~ shit” He pulls you by your arms bringing you to his hugs, his buffed arms circling your body like you size nothing. He hugged your body so your chest and stomach are pressed against his, while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, whispering to you his groans and filthy sweet nothings into your ear. Hearing how desperate he sounds only spurs you on even more, relentlessly snapping your hips to his.

“Can i cum inside, please?” He pleads, his voice coming in as half-whimper and half-whisper. Your moves falter when you hear his request. You never allowed him to cum inside you without a condom on although you’re on birth control because you didn’t want to chance it. It’s not rare for you to forego the condom, but every time he fucks you raw, he always manage to keep composed until he’s pulling out and shoot his cum anywhere he feels like marking you. It’s the first time for him to lose his composure, and you find it sexy. How he’s so desperate for you, mushed and weak because you fuck him so good.

“I don’t want to pull out- I can’t- baby, you feel too good.” A small part of your ego wins when you see him beg like this. He never begs, he’s always the one that makes you beg for him to do certain things to you and makes you work for what you want if he’s feeling mean— mostly when you weren’t behaving as nicely as he wants you to be, so it’s such a nice turn of event for you. The view of him begging, whimpering, and his hips squirming to chase your warmth is an amazing view. You can’t help but pull your body away from him and place your palm on his chest to ground your weight and bounce even harder on him, coaxing more of his pretty grunts and whimpers. His eyes were almost shut, heavy on lust and pleasure, sometimes when it gets too much, he tilts his head upwards while trying to contain his moan, but it was never long before he got his eyes back at you, watching you ride him like you own him, like it was never to satisfy him but herself, like he was just a toy for you to use.

Sheer sheen of sweat can be seen on his temple, and his mouth was slightly ajar, trying to catch a full breath he couldn’t take after you intentionally tighten your already tight wall around his cock. He got particularly reeled when you purposefully swirl your hip slowly when you bottom out and you have your head thrown back, your lips enchanting his name, you got for him like it’s a mantra along with high-pitched moans he adores very much. He clawed at your waist to slow you down because he felt too overwhelmed by the pleasure you gave him.

“Please, baby~ I wanna cum… I promise you’ll feel good too.” He grips your waist so hard you’re sure it will leave marks, but you don’t mind, you love it when he leaves evidence of his touch on your body. His groans grow louder as you feel the telltale of his impending orgasm. You can tell that he’s trying to hold on longer, edging himself waiting for you give him permission to cum inside you.

“Please please please baby I’m sensitive… let me cum in you” You caress his messy hair before lowering your upper half to kiss his temple and cheek while still riling him into oblivion.

“Cum, big boy…” Your words were a tick for him. He grabs at your waist, quietly telling you not to move so you’re not overstimulating him. You plop your body on top of him, peppering sweet kisses to his jaw and watching how godly handsome he looks as he shoots ropes of his load to your womb. You let out a curse under your breath when you realized having him cumming inside you is such a wonderful feeling and you missed out a lot. It is so nice to have him enjoy his climax with you while he is still inside your clenching pussy and his cock throbbing with excitement. The feeling of him finishing into a condom inside you was nothing compared to how this feels; you feel more intimate this way, like he was marking and claiming you as his. Seeing his strong demeanor crumble in front of you because you’re making him feel good definitely boosts your ego, too.

When he’s finished, he caresses your back slowly, patiently waiting for you to catch your breath. When you lift your head, you’re welcomed by his kiss on your lips with pure affection as if he were thanking you.

“Fuck princess” Was all he says after. You smiled when you saw his hazy eyes looking up at you.

“Did I do good?” You asked, wanting him to say how good you make him feel.

“You did amazing, kitten,” He says sleepily, and that’s how you know he’s still in his sub-space, so you let him bask in the pleasure you give him while peppering kisses on his neck, marking him yours for all he is. He stops caressing your back and moves his hand to grip your hair, asking you to face him, but instead of talking, he just stared at your face until you tapped on his shoulder.

“I’m- You fucked me dumb” He chuckled when he realized how much in a subspace he is. It was the first time you ever worn him out like this so he was struck too, he never imagined himself to be dominated by you, his pillow princess—whom he believed to be his good baby fuck doll for him to use.

“I got you, honey,” You say, and then cupping both of his cheeks before you peck his lips and say, “I need to clean you up, tho.”

“N-no, no.. don’t pull out yet..” He says with a trembling voice as he hugs your body with one hand and the other hand on your bum to prevent you from pulling out and moving away from him. Honestly, you were surprised by how soft he got, especially when you caught his eyes were glistening like he was holding in his tears, but you can only imagine how stressed he is after his tour, and having you take care of him must’ve been a wholesome stress reliever for him. And you can’t ignore how fucking sexy he looks being a whimpering mess.

“I love you,” He whispers, and it hurts you to see him become this fragile, but before you could say anything back to him, he urges you. “Tell me you love me, too.” 

“I love you too, baby, so much, you can sleep now, you’re okay.” You replied after you buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his musky scent, mixed with the smell of arousal and sex.

"Thank you for taking care of me, I love it, princess." He managed to let out another compliment before he drifted off to sleep. A cheeky smile appears on your lips when you think that this is surely not going to be the last time you take control and let him shoot raw in you.

[slut4celebs]

Miss Possessive

Possessive!Tate McRae x Reader

Word Count: 1,100

Trigger Warnings: SMUT (18+, NSFW, MDNI !!!) semi-public sex, praise, cunnilingus (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), a bit of degradation

Request / Synopsis: "Hiii can I pretty please request some jealous Tate Mcrae smut? Maybe reader is spending a ton of time with someone who has a crush on her but reader is oblivious?" ... In which Tate's girlfriend's close friend is obviously into them and very touchy, and that doesn't sit well with her.

(Listen, listen... I wrote this at 2:42 am. Any grammatical or spelling errors belong to my sleep paralysis demon. Please forgive me.)

request here | masterlist | yellowjackets account

Tate couldn't help the instinctive twitch of her eye as jealousy began to brew angrily in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't her girlfriend that she didn't trust. She knew that (Y/n) tended to be oblivious in these types of situations, pushing off meaningful touches as friendly. She knew this because it took her a lifetime to finally convince (Y/n) that her flirting wasn't teasing or playful, that she was genuinely, romantically into her. Her hazel eyes grew dark as they followed the guy's hand down (Y/n) arm from her shoulder to elbow, stopping to take a gentle, but purposeful, hold.

"I need to go fix whatever the fuck is happening over there." Tate stated, voice strained as she emptied the last bit of champagne from its flute, handing it to Findlay, whose brows furrowed in confusion until his eyes landed on (Y/n) and her close friend, Tyler. Before he could add any voice of reason to help ease his best friend's mind, the girl was there, sending the brunette boy in front of her a sickly sweet smile. Tate's arm snuck around her girlfriend's waist, tugging the girl in gently, letting their hips press together. An action that immediately brought a dark red hue across (Y/n)'s face as she glanced over to Tate, still oblivious to the situation at hand. "Hey, Travis, is it? Sorry, I can't really remember your name well. I never really hear about you from my girlfriend."

Her quick quip caused a stormy look to fall on Tyler's face as he excused himself. (Y/n) noted the way Tate's hand only tightened it's grip before finally relenting its hold, taking her hand and pulling her away from the room. "He was all over you." She growled, cheeks red from a mix of champagne and frustration. She pulled her into the restroom, locking the door. Confusion fell onto (Y/n)'s face as she watched Tate's actions and listened to her grumbling, watching the way her cheeks puffed out as she turned to her. (Y/n) opened her mouth to speak, slowly piecing together that Tate was jealous, but before she could speak, she was being pushed against the bathroom door, lips pressing against hers harshly. An oomph escaped her as her eyes widened, the harshness of Tate's actions surprising her.

It wasn't hard to fall into Tate's hold though, body relaxing into her rough hold, eyes falling closed as she let Tate have her way. There wasn't a way to prevent the way she folded so easily in her girlfriend's touch, giving her consent to push her dress up her thigh, pushing the thin fabric of her panties over as two fingers rubbed her clit. It also didn't take long for (Y/n) to grow wet from the stimulation her girlfriend gave her, as well as, the way the abrupt and rough movement made her head spin and turned her on more. (Y/n)'s mind was both full of Tate and empty of everything at the same time.

"You're mine. You're my girlfriend. You're not his. You can't just let him touch you like that. Don't let anyone touch you like that again." Her jealousy even more evident as her words dripped with possessiveness that caused (Y/n) to moan, Tate's lips connecting to her neck before she nipped and sucked, creating dark love bites in her wake. (Y/n)'s eyes fluttered closed once more as the two fingers rubbing her clit now curled inside her, Tate's thumb providing pressure to the spot her fingers left behind. "Say it. Say you're mine."

(Y/n) was struggling to find her words, a series of moans leaving her lips as Tate's fingers quickened their pace before halting. She wasn't going to keep going until she heard (Y/n) say it. A whimper left (Y/n)'s lips as she gripped onto Tate, needing something to hold as she grew closer to a state of ecstasy that only Tate could bring her to. "I'm yours. Tate, I'm yours. All yours. I'm your pretty little slut." She cried out. That pleased Tate enough to resume her quick pace, quickly causing (Y/n)'s orgasm to crash through her, hips rolling as her back arched. Tate's name leaving her lips loudly.

Tate helped her ride out her high, pulling away her fingers and sucking off her girlfriend's slick from them, maintaining eye contact as she sunk to her knees. She wasn't done with her. Her teeth nipped up her inner thighs, and (Y/n) quickly fell back under her spell as her girlfriend stared up at her before her lips came in contact with her clit, sucking before her tongue ran through her folds. (Y/n) felt overwhelmed, to say the least, as Tate ate her out. "Tate, I'm…" Her head couldn't focus properly on the words. "Please, I'm going to cum." She finally managed to get out, the overwhelming pressure continuing to build.

She doubled her efforts, moaning into her girlfriend as she continued to reach her end goal. (Y/n)'s hands gripped at Tate's hair as her head fell back against the door as she came again, thighs quivering as Tate held her up. Tate's relentless tongue pulled a third orgasm out of her, making her squirt soon after. A hum left her as she pulled away, satisfied. "That's my good little slut. You're such a good girl for me. My good girl." She hummed, getting up as if she didn't just wreck her girlfriend. She cleaned the slick from her chin and fingers before cleaning up her girlfriend. "Come on, let me fix your make up. Then fix mine." She said as if (Y/n) wasn't still catching her breath, her chest heaving.

(Y/n) swallowed thickly before nodding, taking a wobbly step towards Tate. "I'm sorry, I won't talk to him as much if he makes you uncomfortable. It's never my intention to make you jealous." (Y/n) said, trying to keep her focus on Tate's make-up instead of the way she felt she still floating.

"He's your friend," Tate hummed, eye closing as (Y/n) fixed and touched up her eye liner, then kissed her forehead. The small gesture calming her jealous heart further, warmth spreading over her instead of fire. "I won't ever tell you not to be his friend. Just maybe… Don't let him be all over you." Tate said before switching places with her girlfriend, now touching her make-up up. "Let's go. We look just good enough to leave. And I need you in my arms, in our bed."

[clovecloveangel]

Okay. Tim Drake deepdiving (send help)

SPECIAL MENTION TO JASON WITH OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE THAT GIRL (BOY) IS GONE BUT IIIIIII// THAT GIRL IS GONE BUT I STILL TRY//I MISS HIM, DONT YOU BLAME ME! THAT BOY WENT STONE COLD CRAZY! CAUGHT UP AND CANT RUN LASTING CHASING THAT HAPPY PIPEDREAM1!!!!!

New Money hehehehheehehhehehehehehe

WHO CAN IT BE NOW PAPAPAPPAPAPAPAAAAA PSHSGN THAT FITS HIM HE'D TOTALLY LISTEN TO THATHBRGTIVKFM

BANG BANG BANG HERE WE GO (already screamed im just gonna copy paste that

[BANG! FOR TIM DRAKE HHHRHEHHEEHH SO PUT YOUR BEST FACE ON EVERYBODY/PRETEND YOU LIKE THIS SONG EVERYBODY // AND IM UP TO SOMETHING (UP TO SOMETHING)]

EVERYONE TALK ABOUT - POP MUZICK!!!!!!1UBRHFD VJCKOVSI THIS IS LITERALLY HIS LOSER TASTE /VAFF/VSILLY

CAUSE WHEN THE SUN COMES DOWN AND THE MOON COMES UP//I TURN INTO A TEENAGE GOO GOO MUCK IHEUGRBJVDMIM MY BOYYY

I have not heard honeybee but im listennig to it rn and it fits the vibes!!!!!

Bruno is orange..... bruno is orange...

BRUNOOOO WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR GOOD SENSE? (RED ROBIN) THAT MANS GOOD I BET HE WORKS FOR THE GOVERNMENT//DID YOU HEAR ABOUT THAT MOTHER BROKE HER DAUGHTERS LEGS IN TWO AND SAID ITS TOO DANGEROUS TO WALK SO I HAD TO SAVE YOU//I THINK ITS REAL UNFAIR THAT YOU SHOULD PUT HIM THERE ALL WE DID WAS KISS ON MY GRAVE I SWEAR WHERE DID YOU FIND HIS SHOES? THE LOCK OF MY HAIR? ALL WE DID WAS KISS ON MY GRAVE I SWEAR (DIE DIE DIE) -> EVERYONE IN HIS LIFE WAS PUT INTO DANGER/DIED SO HE'S BEGGING THE WORLD TO STOP OH MY GOD

ANTHEMS FOR A SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD GIRL

USED TO BE ONE OF THE ROTTEN ONES AND I LIKED YOU FOR THAT (THIS COULD BE LIKE HIS PARENTS NOT BEING THE BEST IN THE WORLD/THE PEOPLE IN HIS LIFE USING HIM BUT HE STILL LOVES BECAUSE HE'S LOYAL HWUGRNI)

NOW YOURE ALL GONE GOT YOUR MAKEUP ON AND YOURE NOT COMING BACK (CANT YOU COME BACK?) -> SO MANY PEOPLE DIED/LEFT/BETRAYED HIM HE JUST WANTS TO BE HAPPYYYYYYY

BLEACHING YOUR TEETH SMILING FLASH TALKING TRASH UNDER MY WINDOW -> HE PLAYS THE ROLE TO BE THE PERFECT ROBIN TO MAKE EVERYONE ELSE HAPPY AUGHHHHH

PARK THAT CAR, DROP THAT PHONE, SLEEP ON THE FLOOR, DREAM ABOUT ME? -> THE MOMENT HE LEAVES HIS PHONE (VIGILANTE WORK) HE FEELS CRUSHINGLY ALONE BECAUSE ALL HE CAN THINK ABOUT ARE THE PEOPLE HE'S LOST

OKAY I NEED TO. STOP.

DING DONG THE WITCH IS DEAD I JUST WATCHED WICKED IM CACKLINGNNGNGGNG

GET HIM BACK HE'S SO OLIVIA CODED GODDD

COFFEEEEEE

DO I NEED IT? MOCHA - AM I UNDER CONTROL???? WAKE UP AND IT SWALLOWED ME WHOLE WOULD IS SEE IT? I CAN MAKE YOU FEEL ALIVEEEEEEE - I KNOW, BUT DO I NEED YOU TO SURVIVE? (I FEEL LIKE THIS IS TALKING ABOUT HIS WHOLE VIGILANTE WORK AND HOW HE USES IT TO STAY SANE/HIDE AWAY AND HE FEELS USELESS WIHTOUT BEINGNROBIN also the fanon coffee thing is cute oH8IROFGIJNFIOIJIM)

THE CULT OF DIONYISIS MATCHING WITH BERNARD PAHAHHAHAHH I LOVE IT AS A TIMBER/TIMBERKON SONG (IM FEELING DEVIOUS/YOURE LOOKING GLAMOROUS/LETS GET MISCHEVIOUS/AND POLYAMOROUS!!!!!!!!1) EVEN STEPH WORKS SDFHUGBYVHJDKCOMDI

YOU ARE AN IDIOT AHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHA OH TIM CAN I GIVE YOU THERAPYY??? JOKER JUNIOR REF?!?!

ITS GOING DOWN IM YELLING TIMBERRRRRRRRRRRR DIHFJCDKMJ OFC OFC ITS THEIR SONG

PAPARAZZI -> HIM AS A STALKER + HIM AS A PUBLIC FIGURE

rockin robin hheehhehe i see you

WASHINGTON ON YOUR SIDE HAMILTIOGNFVENUJCKM

BRUTUS????Q?

IVE BEEN WATCHING HIM FOR MY ENTIRE LIFE//THATS NOT TRUE I DONT WISH TO FORSAKE YOU SO SIMILAR LIKE BROTHERS FROM A DIFFERENT MOTHER OF THE SAME WOMB (i cant remember the exact lyrics forgive me) FRATE MEUS//ILL NEVER FORGET THE WAY YOU SHOWED ME HOW TO MAKE ART (BEING ROBIN) I LOVE YOU AND IF YOU WANT ILL CALL YOU KING (FATHER) //

SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES AND IM UNSURE SHOULD I EMBRACE IT SHOUDL I RUN? WHAT MOTIVATES ME HATRED? IS IT LOVE? (HIS WHOLE RED ROBIN ARC - IS HE RUNNING ON HIS LOVE FOR BRUCE OR HIS ANGER AT THE WORLD FORSAKIGN HIM????) MAYBE MY NAME COULD ALSO BE KNOWN (HE JUST LOVES BEING ROBIN)

MY WHOLE LIFE YOU WERE A TEACHER AND FRIEND TO ME, PLEASE KNOW MY ACTIONS ARE NOT MOTIVATED ONLY BY ENVY!!! -> HIM TELLING DICK ABOUT DAMIANN OHMY GODDD

MY NAME IS BRUTUS BUT THE PEOPLE WILL CALL ME REX!! (HIM AT THE END OF RED ROBIN BEING LIKE I AM MY OWN HERO I AM RED ROBIN AHDUNCJIJTI)

I NEED TO SHUT. UP.

Okay fuck i cant do the whole thing i dont have time but WE BOTH REACHED FOR THE GUN OH GOD OG GOD

ARMY DREAMERS OH NOOOO

WHAT A WASTE OF, ARMY DREAMERS! (BFPO, MAMMYS HERO)

BUT HE NEVER EVEN MADE IT TO HIS TWENTIES - NO ONE ALLOWS HIM TO AGE PAST 17

SARAHHHHH

'YOULL NEVER MAKE THE PLACE WHY DO YOU EVEN RUN THE RACE???? I CANT BE, WHAT YOU NEEEDDDDD I AM STUCKKK IN A DRE-EAM I AM STUCK, IN A DREAMMMMMMM//DONT YOU KNOW? SHES BEEN HERE ALL ALONG//HE LOVES ME LIKE A DOG AND WHEN WE MESS AROUND ILL LET HIM KNOW THE TRUTH I FOUND IN MY OWN HOPELESS HATE--

AND EVERY TIME I WAKE I SECOND GUESS THE GAME I PLAYED, DID I, MAKE A, MISTAKE??? -HIS LYRIC HIS LRYICS SODHGUBVJSCMLX

WHAT ELSE CAN I DOOOOOOO//(WHAT IF IT DIDNT NEED TO BE PERFECT? IT JUST NEEDED TO BE, AND THEYD LET ME BE?!?!?!?!!)

fuck ufck cuck okay okay i know some of the others but these are my standouts thank you this was great fonvkfmlp

formatted this because its such a mess that even colour coding still makes it insane lmafaoogunfidfdmkovfm

Batfam Spotify Playlists

(Because Tumblr won’t let me post all of my DC playlists in one post)

Alfred Pennyworth: Spotify Link

Bruce Wayne:

Barbara Gordon:

Dick Grayson:

Cass Cain:

Jason Todd:

Stephanie Brown:

Bernard Dowd:

Tim Drake:

Duke Thomas:

Damian Wayne:

Talia Al-Ghul: Spotify Playlist Link

Selina Kyle: Spotify Playlist Link

Normal link stopped working on the last two 😪

The boring links should still work but still

I think there’s a maximum limit of how many you can add

[icrackedmenoggin]

i love this aspect of pip... the gender ambiguity is so real. whenever i see fempip fanarts, i can tell there wasn't much more to do. he already is an androgynous lil guy

[jayktoralldaylong]

You know who they did the dirtiest in Arcane? Apart from Vander that is.

The answer is Mel. My baby girl lost her two boyfriends and I'm tired of pretending like I'm okay about it.

She gave everything to their dream.

"She wanted to use them." YES! At first! At first she thought they were a great investment. Then she came to love them with more sincerity and more care than many other relationships in the show. Sure some of the toxic things she'd learnt from her home tended to seep into the relationship, but she did everything she could to prune that away.

She loved them. She poured everything into their dream. Everything into helping Jayce get rid of Heimerdinger when he wanted to ban the research that could help Viktor, everything to help them both vote for peace and make the council decision unanimous. Everything to get back to them, after getting kidnapped! 🥺 After going through every version of hell, she immediately gravitated to where she would find them, 😭 find the only loves that had ever accepted her without necessarily demanding anything in return.

And Riot just took that away. And I'm tired of acting like I'm okay with it.

I'm tired of everyone saying Mel deserves better than Jayce and Viktor, tired of people shipping her with people she's never met (especially when the aim is just to give her someone who is not Jayce or Viktor), I'm tired of the strong independent black woman stereotype following Mel around when it's the LAST thing that she wants when she only just learnt to be soft with Jayce and open with her heart once again. I am tired of people calling her a manipulator as if her character arc ended there, as if she did not unlearn toxic love and traded it for the gentle bond she then had with her two favourite scientists.

I'm tired of people not acknowledging that she had to leave Piltover, not just because the Medarda family needed her, but also because her boys were gone. The family she had finally made for herself, the family she was willing to abandon her family name for. They're gone and I don't think Riot will ever be kind enough to give them back to her.

Everyone else, even Ekko sort of has a family to fall back to. Mel has successfully lost everyone. The fact that Lest is the closest person to Mel left says way too much about how awful this whole situation is.

And I am TIRED, I am so sick and TIRED, of people acting like she did not love Jayce and Viktor. I am so sick and tired of people acting like Jayce did not love her. It probably hurt him too to leave her behind.

The tragedy of them is that Jayce knew Mel still had the chance to refind her feet, but Viktor had only ever had Jayce, and Jayce would NEVER leave Viktor alone. And it hurts that Mel probably wished she could have gone with them, because now she has to start everything from scratch and barely anyone in the fandom acknowledges that side of her pain and I HATE IT!

(Jayce might have been created for Viktor in League Lore, but Mel was created for Jayce. 🥺😭 Mel was created to love Jayce and they took her baby away.) #HappyHare(Mel)WhereHaveYouBuriedAllYourChildren?TellMeSoISay😭