#headers only murders
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chppells · 2 months ago
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Selena Gomez icons? <3
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-` 𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗁𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇' ���𝖾𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗍 ´-
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typadolls · 2 years ago
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★ selena gomez icons ..   !!
like, reblog or credit to ﹫jnkroses on twitter.
don't repost.
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idlerare · 2 years ago
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bravevolunteer · 1 year ago
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VERSE — WEREWOLF
Michael didn't know of their existence until the night he was turned. It was after a particularly difficult night ( barely seventeen, just him and his father ) that he stormed out of the house, unsure where he intended to go and caught roaming around in the dark alone. The wolf attacked, Michael's instincts no match for the creature, only surviving as they seemed to get distracted while flecks of dawn began to appear in the night sky. When William saw him— confused, bloody, and freshly traumatized— with subtle shifts in Michael's appearance in addition to his story, the truth surfaced. Michael was now a werewolf.
With his father developing a fixation on his condition ( possibility of him already researching/being interested in monsters before this ) and without anyone else to turn to, Michael reluctantly relied on his research in growing accustomed to himself. The adjustment period, especially through his first few full moons, was rife with dealing with his father's intrigue on top of the transformations.
It was months later that Michael not only found out about, but became part of his father's real secret: each month, he was set on a victim while turned. Studying monsters, children's fear, remnant and agony, it all lined up, and with the seeds of Michael's reliance planted, William's survival around Michael was assured. Michael stays in Hurricane, with secrets to hide and the rage of an animal trapped in a cage brewing within him.
Other details!
Some physical changes while not in full werewolf form include sharper canines, sharper/more pointed nails, thinner pupils, a yellowish tint to his eyes, and thicker hair. He is also considerably stronger and faster.
He sustains his condition after the night ends and he turns back: usually, this means he's still covered in blood after a kill. Would stand for an injury as well, but good luck with that-
As time passes and Michael starts to gain a little more control, he can learn to transform ( or half transform ) at will, full moons are uncontrollable.
There is the possibility of gaining enough control to stop himself from lashing out against someone in this form, but it's incredibly difficult. The only person he has managed this with is William.
Michael is physically exhausted after full moons. Needs recuperation day. He's fucking eepy. ( and that's without the mental toll ).
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closetdbisexual · 1 year ago
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should ichange my username i could have so many (bpdberkman) (elevatortheory) (streetlightman1festo) (0401yikes)
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fancyschmancyopinions · 2 years ago
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SELENA GOMEZ at the premiere of “My Mind & Me” at the AFI Fest Film Festival on November 2nd 2022 wearing RODARTE
I’m a huge Selena fan. So I’m always excited to see her attend various events. She wore a beautiful Rodarte gown to the premiere of her documentary “My Mind & Me”.
My issue with the look is that it feels more appropriate for Spring or Summer. The brighter color and material feel very light and just stick out as the weather starts to get colder. I really love the purple color on her, and that she really branched out. But the dress doesn’t fit great for this time of year.
I am loving the shoes. I think they looked so amazing with both the dress and her assessor it’s. I love the longer earrings and how they look with a dress. So while I’m not sure it fits the season, the look is very pretty and looks great on Selena.
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luvwestwood · 9 months ago
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❝ DON'T WORRY 'BOUT IT DARLING! ❞ - Toji Fushiguro
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— (18+) YOUR CAR BREAKS DOWN DURING A SOLO TRIP, AND A KIND MR. FUSHIGURO OFFERS TO HELP.
₊˚༊*· warnings. nsfw (18+), slow burn, rough sex, hair pulling, p in v, rough sex, slight age gap (r is 22, t is 37), pet names, raw sex, backshots, pulling out/cumming on face/mouth, pussy eating, fingering, light faceslapping, toji lives in a cabin..
₊˚༊*· notes. I missed writing sm... also, this was one of those stories where i just got carried away writing.. also if your car breaks down in the middle of no where, please don't follow a random man back to his cabin. toji is not real.
7,035 words (25m read)
header art used - credits to @/yunonoai on twt!
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A holiday. The perfect thing you needed to ease your mind— work had been fucking you up lately, so you specifically had requested a few days off.
Realising you never spend time with yourself, and yourself only, had brought you to the idea of going on a solo trip. Although with budget cut short, you could only opt for a solo-road-trip; still well away from the city, and everyone.
So far, you thought it was perfect. Just you and your trusty volks beetle, cruising off for a few days to be surrounded by the county’s evergreen trees, and going down a spiral of constantly smelling wet bark here and there.
Crashing at the nearest motel just a few miles south, and digging into a typical, pancake breakfast at the closest diner the next morning. Quite basic, but you thought that it was unironically the calmest idea for a 'holiday' yet.
Pressing on the playback button, the car radio immediately sounded out the currently inserted tape that was halfway played through, your eyes rolling at the song choice.
“..I wake up in the morning I got murder on my min-“
The sound of the tape bypassing the opening filled with the car, along with silence and the engine running. “Oh for fucks sake, Yuji definitely put that in there.”
Balancing between keeping your eyes on the road, and your surroundings, you toss the DVD away to the passengers side; rummaging around the glove compartment for another disk.
But you found the peace as of now quite calming, resulting in you rolling your windows down by the slightest— taking in the natural noise of the environment.
Your cheeks turned cold to the touch as the breeze wafted throughout your entire car, your back pressing against the fabric seats, eyes only closing for a millisecond to take everything in.
Dressed in a tank top and shorts, my, it seemed like you were ready for.. who knows what. Hopefully no one takes you, accidentally, for a side-street hooker.
Bit silent, you suppose— seeing that there was no other car on this specific road too. It was eerie, but enjoyable at the same time. I mean, the road was in the middle of the woods so I doubt people would be passing in and out of here often.
Hand reaching back into the glove compartment, you grab a hold of a random disk, analyzing it as soon as you withdrew your hand back into your lap.
..The Cranberries, not too bad. Something to lighten up the mood a bit. Biting down on your bottom lip, you divert your attention away from the road for a millisecond— pushing the disk into the radio player with a swift movement.
The familiar intro of Linger began to play. Your two hands clutched onto the wheel tighter, letting out a squeal as a result of hearing one of your favorite songs.
What seemed like forever, you wondered if the road was going to look different anytime soon. It felt as if you haven't seen some sort of sign telling you there would be a bed and breakfast ten minutes up, but you simply brushed it off.
"..And I'm in so deeep, you know I'm such a fool for youuu.." Taking advantage of the empty roads, you notched the volume a bit higher, belting out your shower-learnt vocals with all your heart.
Concerning LEDs flashing on your dashboard suddenly caught your eye, your singing stopping right in the middle of the chorus.
Frantically looking down at the light, and at the road in front of you, the sensible decision to pull over came across your mind— your car quickly swerving to the side of the road, Linger still, playing as everything started to go downhill.
"W-what the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" Your hands fall onto your lap, brows furrowed at one warning appearing after the other, a whimper slipping past your lips as worry grew.
Looking out the rear window, then to the front, you've realised you're all alone. No help nearby, not for another while. Groaning, you darted your eyes back to your dashboard, seeing about three more warnings show up.
"Fuck- not now, oh come on!" ...Can't even get peace on my day off, can I?
Pulling on the latch underneath, you popped the hood open. Killing the ignition, you grab your zip-up from the backseat, throwing it on before stepping out of the car; sizzling, and smoke coming from under the hood.
"I swear.. if this is a trap for a murder film, just take me already. My survival instincts are through the roof.."
Sighing, you lift the hood up, a big cloud of grey smoke slapping you in the face, like you could suffocate any moment now.
"The hell?!" Coughing, you fanned your face, taking a few, cautious steps back from the vehicle. As soon as the smoke had went away, you leaned back in; analysing each part of your engine.
A scoff escapes your mouth, silently laughing at yourself. "Literally what the fuck am I meant to be looking at." Knuckles resting atop your hips, you stood up straight, chipping away at your fingernails with your teeth.
"..Okay, maybe I'll try and start it... and if all goes wrong- call the insurance company."
Blowing out a relieving breath, you sit back into the driver's seat, twisting the key, trying to get your car to start.
Nothing but the sweet sound of failure. Two more tries, and still the same outcome.
"..Insurance company.. right."
Unable to locate your phone, you let out a confused noise- looking sideways and upside down your car for it. "..Where could it.. be..?"
Though.. something seemed, off. Your head slowly rose up from below the passengers seat, peeping just above the car door.
A man, walking- closer, and closer.. It seems. Your heart began to thump against your chest- begging to jump out. Breathing labored, your eyes widen, body freezing at the most inconvenient of times. Wait, is he holding an axe?
"M-my.. my phone?!" With haste in your movements, you rummage through everything like a mad man, making a total mess of your car- the same mysterious guy getting closer and closer, tauntingly walking out from the deep woods.
Sitting back against your seat, your mouth gapes open; eyes glued straight ahead. This is it, I manifested it. Now why on earth did I say that?! It's over for me, I'm cooked.
You let out a mewl, attempting to sob, solely squeezing your eyes shut. Too scared to look one last time to your side, you took a few deep breaths, chanting mini prayers to save the last bit of you.
A tap on the window came from your side, your one eye opening itself. Hesitant, you slowly turn your head; seeing a muscular torso at the window tapping the glass with the handle of his axe, before the man leans down to show his face.
Dressed in jeans and a flannel, with jagged, raven colored hair— and a face to perfectly compliment his jacked up body. I see. But now's not the time to play a dating game.
"..Ma'am?" His voice deep, and rusty, your face grew more concerned, mouth still gawking like a freak in fear.
"..God, p-please don't kill me.." A quiet peep comes from you, the man resting a hand on your roof, still bent down, and chuckling.
"Lady, I could see your car smokin' all the way from my cabin. I couldn't help but see what's the matter. You want me to check it out for you, or not?" His voice happened to be quite faint from behind the glass, though you could make out what he seemed to be saying.
"..Oh... I don't mind, I just have no clue what to do, I.." Words coming out in a blabber, you stumbled over what you wanted to say, confusion written all over the mans face.
"Slow down, will ya? Can't even comprehend half the words you're saying."
Shaking your head, you brushed it off. "You know what.. forget it.. just.. check what's happening under that hood, please?"
He nods, disappearing from your window to walk around to the front of the car. Deciding to step out too, you came to the conclusion that he seemed like an okay man to trust with your car. But you just had to make sure he wasn't gonna fit some sort of tracker underneath your engine..
Crossing your arms, you walked closer to the man, who seemed to know what he was doing. Observing from a few steps away, you watched him twist and turn at a few things, no fear in getting his hands dirty. He seemed bigger at this angle, a bit bigger than you, so if he were to murder you right now... it's over.
"..Do you always carry around that axe?" Referring to the same tool that was now on the ground, you noticed his lips curl into a smile, taking note of the fading scar on the side of his mouth also.
Letting out an amused chuckle, his eyes remained focused on the problem in front of him, but his voice was able to answer something else at the same time. "Living in the middle of the woods, I think you'd do the same."
You nod, accepting the answer with no further questions. Although a few more silly ones came out of you..
"Have you ever been chased by a bear.. while living out here?" Swaying back and forth on your tippy toes, your arms stay crossed, teeth chewing at your bottom lip as you anticipated a genuine answer.
He stops, torso still bent down but head looking up at you, facial expressions unimpressed. "Do pretty girls like you always ask all these stupid questions..?"
Blinking, you freeze, at the blunt compliment and sharp stab of his words. "..I was just curious. Also, I don't even know your name. You know, if you try to kidnap me, and I happen to escape, and-"
"Toji." Short and direct, he answers that question. "Now that you've told me your game plan, I could've easily lied about my name.
Your throat running dry, you clear it out with a grunt, Toji standing back up with an unhopeful look on his face. "..Yeah, your car is busted." He picks his axe back up, turning his body to you.
"..What? But- there's no reception here and.. I have no where to go..." Great. You've told him that you're helpless, and a young, vulnerable girl who's all alone on a solo trip.
"Wait- so you're telling me you're all alone, in the middle of these woods. Lady, do you not know that there's literally nothing here but dirt and trees?" His face scrunched up in disbelief, he genuinely wondered what a girl like you would be doing here.
"..I just wanted a holiday... on my own and.. I thought.. I could crash at some motel like in the movies and.. and.. pancakes.. oh the pancakes.." A sob chokes out of you, warm tears beginning to stain your cheeks at the thought of your vacation going downhill.
Toji, on the other hand looks more confused at this rate, his voice stammering, unsure of how to console you. A random girl, crying in front of him.. Great.
"Uh, don't cry- I didn't mean to.." Scratching at his nape, he waits until you stop crying your guts out, and successfully, you do. "Look, how about I'll fix your car for you, but first we get you a place to stay."
Sniffling, you look up at him, an ounce of hope springing back into you. "..R-really?"
Relieved, Toji was able to relax by the slightest after finally getting you to stop sobbing in front of him. Comforting wasn't his forte. "Yeah, don't worry 'bout it darling. But my cabin is the only thing I could offer right now. I told you, there's nothing in this place. No.. 'motel'..."
Looking back at your busted car, then returning to Toji, he shrugs his shoulders; mouthing, 'the choice is yours.' He wasn't pressuring you at all, but it was true that there was no other option. Outside the city wasn't all that, and you learnt the hard way.
"...Fine, just don't.. don't murder me.. I don't wanna die." Toying with the zip of your hoodie, you divert your gaze away from Toji, deciding to look at the ground instead.
He grunts, grabbing his head in frustration. "Would you quit with that murder bull-crap?! How many times do I have to say it. Should be me who's scared of a Michael Myers venturing 'round these woods." Toji shakes his head in disapproval. "Just grab your things and get movin' will you? Sun's about to set soon."
Unamused yourself, you shoot him a glare, walking over to the backseat door to grab your backpack full of everything. Slamming the door shut, you sensibly grab your keys, properly locking everything before Toji shuts the hood, resting his axe on his shoulder.
The man gestures you to follow him, hopefully not towards your death. Trailing behind his large figure, Toji occasionally glanced over his shoulder to make sure you were still there and didn't happen to run off; more than certain that you were shitting your pants right now.
Readjusting the heavy backpack on your shoulder, you struggled, mentally complaining, but too afraid to ask if you were there yet. Guess you'll take the blame for this one. Should've packed light I suppose..
"We're here, incase you were wondering." Toji stops in his tracks, turning his body back around to face you before making his way to the onto the porch.
Surprisingly, it was nice and big, and seemed homely. "Not gonna lie, I thought you lived in a run down shack in the middle of no where. With like, bugs and stuff?"
"Who do you take me for?" He scoffs, "Come in when you're ready. Also mind your step." Toji points out the mini stairs just below the porch, before disappearing off inside. He really made sure that you didn't feel pressured to do anything whatsoever. So he let you enter at your own will.
Taking note of your surroundings outside one last time, you let out a deep breath before stepping inside.
Warm air engulfed you, heat coming from a well built fire place. It actually was nice inside, and everything everywhere made sense. The architecture of the cabin really had Toji written all over it.
Nothing was run down. It felt like a home, just with a rustic style to it. The sofa actually had a throw draped over it, a flat screen tv mounted just above the fireplace. There was also a nice view of a body of water outside some large windows.
Toji paced around the sofas just after resting his axe safely in a corner, stretching his arms out; toned muscles flexing from the warm, yellowish light in the cabin.
"Make yourself at home, you take my room tonight. I'll crash on the sofa." He makes his way to the other side of the cabin, supposedly the entrance to his bedroom. Toji leaning against the door frame, he watched as you stood still in one spot, still observing your surroundings.
"Also has its own bathroom, so no need to worry about me walking in on you. There's locks too from the inside. And I don't care about you going through anything. I've got nothing to hide." Toji continues, he sure knows the questions you're about to ask. This man is always thinking ahead.
"..Thanks, Toji. That's really nice of you." Walking closer to the entrance of his room, you slide the backpack off your shoulder, holding onto the heavy load with two hands at this point. The backpack swings between your legs as you walk past him, Toji grunting before leaving you be.
He fucks off somewhere into the kitchen, meanwhile you lock the doors behind you immediately. You already smelled of bark and leaves, and not to mention, the stinky smoke from your car earlier.
Tossing your backpack onto an armchair nearby, eye glancing over a few frames with Toji in them. Some of him alone, with a fish in his hand, the other.. Possibly some old friends.
Curious, you looked around the dresser for some more things that could tell you a bit more about himself.
In the corner was a birthday card, which didn't evidently tell you his age, but you found out as soon as you opened it up to see what was written.
"Happy Birthday big guy, can't beleeve your old ass is 37! - Your pal, Gojo🖕"
Who the hell is Gojo? And, that's not old.. right? You scoffed more so at the fact that the word 'believe' was spelt wrong other than the badly drawn middle finger. Just a little habit of yours you can't control. Considering you were 22, Toji was kind of old enough to be your guardian, somehow.. but let's not get into that.
Attempting to place the card exactly where it had belonged, you were happy enough with your first try; still curious to find any hidden gems, but you were unsuccessful.
Letting out a hum, you took another look around your surroundings, nodding gently in approval at the view that he also had just outside of his bedroom. Seems like he knew how to build this place the way he wanted to.
Halfway pacing around his room, you realised that he probably thinks you've been silent for too long. Deciding to step into his bathroom, notice a shaver and some cream on the sink. Allowing the shower to run, you hoped the noise would calm his nerves to let him know you're still here, and alive.
Oh, being a curious cat you open his mirror cabinet just to take a tiny peek before your shower. Says he's got nothing to hide, so..
After-shave, lotion, pain-killers and a box.. An unopened box of extra large condoms.
You gulp before blinking rapidly, closing the mirror cabinet without a second to waste. You weren't sure if you should be mortified or impressed and relieved that they were unopened. Wait, as if it matters?
Locking the bathroom door just to be cautious, you quickly did so before stripping your clothes completely to the ground, kicking off your converse and socks before hopping into the warm shower.
The droplets trickled down your body, feeling more calm now that you've had a shower. Allowing the water to run over your hair, you scrubbed your scalp with your fingertips, completely soaking your body. You looked over to the shower caddy hanging on the wall before grabbing a familiar brand of shampoo.
Massaging that into your hair, you hurried on with your shower, making sure that you didn't hog all the hot water. You assumed that he had to start up a big ass generator minutes away just to get a drop of it, forgetting the fact that it was '24, and there was some such thing as a boiler.
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The shower ended up being just fine, and Toji didn't bother you at all. He didn't force the door open, don't worry; and everything was just the way it was left in the room.
You didn't have anything else left to wear than the matching tank and shorts set you bought at TJ-Maxx solely for this solo trip. You didn't have to worry about your feet being cold, as the hardwood floors were surprisingly heated.
Quickly drying your hair with one of his towels, you figured that he didn't have a hairdryer, so you had no choice but to leave it to air dry.
Finally unlocking the bedroom door, you opened it to see Toji busy behind the kitchen island. Assuming he was cooking, you made your way closer, sitting on a bar stool nearby.
Toji had a tea towel draped over his shoulder, and the smell of cooked meat entered your nostrils.
"If you're a vegan, it's your unlucky day." He says, clearly knowing you were seated behind him.
You laugh, resting your elbows on the counter, watching him like a hawk . "I eat everything, don't worry."
"Good." He says before turning back towards you with a plate of steak, potatoes and asparagus. Unlike earlier, this time a pleasant cloud of steam hit you in the face, the smell making your tummy grumble.
Toji has a plate of his own, leaning against the counter behind him as he watches your every move, waiting for you to take a bite. He pokes at a potato, tossing it into his mouth before saying something.
"Wake up early tomorrow, I'll teach you what to do in case something like this happens again. I don't expect you to follow a man again back to his cabin in the middle of no where.." Prodding at a few more pieces of steak, he notices you were busy digging into your own plate.
You just let out a hum of approval, Toji slowly sliding a glass of water towards you before you could choke anytime soon.
Setting your cutlery down, you look up at Toji standing, busy eating his own dinner. Here comes the wave of questions.. "Hmm, do you ever get lonely out here?"
Unphased by the question, Toji continues eating, but answers your curiosity. "Nah, I like being alone. I'm used to it anyways. Friends do come visit, but not always." He shrugs, unable to make eye contact with you.
"..I see.." Nodding, your mind jumps back to the unopened box of condoms back in Toji's bathroom, your inner voice mentally cursing at yourself for being too curious.
Letting famish get the best of you, you devoured everything on the plate in record breaking time, politely pairing the cutlery together on the dish. "Uhm, Toji? I can clean up. It's the least I could do."
The man just finishing his own plate, he sets it on the counter beside him, looking at you, impressed. "Seriously? 'right then."
Hopping off the stool, you make your way past him, feeling Toji's gaze burn into the back of your head, before you reached around him for his plate, and your own on the island. Bringing the two to the sink, you began to wash them with the sponge, occasionally looking out the kitchen window.
It had gone dark quickly. Who knows if Toji never had come across you.
"You got a boyfriend or what?" A first time question from the man, and it was one you didn't expect. He remained leaning against the counter, watching your every move from behind you.
Suppressing a panicked turn of your head, you kept your vision down at the dishes, gliding your hand over the dishes and under the water, you gulped before answering.
"No, not anymore. I broke up with him cause I found out he was cheating on me with some girl on the majorette team in college." Your insides burned at the memory of you walking in on them at a party bathroom, but you didn't let it get to you, not now.
Toji didn't let out a hum of approval, and instead stayed quiet. All he did was place your empty glass beside the sink that you seemed to have forgotten all about. Taking that too, you scrubbed it with the sponge before rinsing it off and placing it on the drying rack.
"All done," you dried your hands on the fabric of your shorts behind you, turning back around to Toji who was in the same position, but this time, his hands held onto the counter's edge on either side of him.
Peering at the drying rack around you, he pouted in approval, "Done a fairly good job I suppose,"
You scoff, "It was just washing dishes. Nothing hard."
"I'll be right back. No tomfoolery, and don't open that door." Toji glances to the front door, before disappearing off into his bedroom, the door closing. You thought nothing of it, walking over to the L-shaped sofa to see what was on TV. Some stupid deer documentary was on, typical, but you changed it to something more entertaining like a soap.
You assumed that he had no Netflix on it, and you were right. You can't really imagine Toji watching an episode of The Office.
Propping the side of your head onto your knuckles, your eyes bored at the screen, barely paying attention to what was on the TV. Glancing over to the clock on the wall, you read the time to be almost 9 o'clock, which shocked you.
Letting out your fifth sigh of the day, you flickered back and forth through the channels before hearing a door open behind you, Toji stepping out of his room, and this time, dressed in grey sweats and a t-shirt. His hair was slightly damp, as you noticed him sitting just after your feet, ensuring a distance between you two.
"What's this crap you're watching?" Toji rests his elbows on his knees before relaxing back onto the sofa, legs spreading as he made himself comfortable.
Tossing the remote over to his side, you roll your eyes. "Knew you would say that."
The man attempted to focus on the shit show in front of him, brows furrowing, but eventually he seemed interested.
Sitting up, you cross your legs, groaning. "There's nothing good on TV. I'm going to bed."
Toji looked to his side, watching as you stood up and left, and he had to admit— he did get a look at your behind. But no one could beat that out of him. "Alright, suit yourself. Sweet dreams. Remember, up early tomorrow."
You glanced behind your shoulder before stepping into his room, not shutting the door fully but leaving a slight gap between the frame and the door itself.
After scavenging through the side pocket of your backpack, you returned back into Toji's bathroom with your toothbrush this time. Stealing a pea of his own toothpaste, you stared at yourself in his mirror as you brushed away.
You could still hear his TV coming from outside, and it sounded like the channel didn't change. He was probably fixated on the show by now. After spitting out, you rinsed off your toothbrush, before heading back out to place it back into your backpack.
Before hopping into bed, you neatly folded your things away, ensuring you cleaned up after yourself as you hated leaving a mess behind, especially if you weren't in a space of your own.
Letting out a sigh, you crawled into his bed, surprisingly filled with two fluffy pillows, and not just one flat ass cushion. Toji's bed strongly smelled like aftershave, supposedly the one in his bathroom mirror. It was comforting though, and wasn't an unpleasant scent.
Covering your upper half with the duvet, you laid flat on your back, eyes staring up at the ceiling before your lids slowly grew heavy and soon enough, closing shut.
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You managed to sleep halfway through the night, until, it had began to thunder, and rain heavily. The drops pattered against the glass window, waking you from your slumber inconveniently.
Sitting up in bed, you look around, noticing everything was still the same. The door remained slightly open, and you could see that the TV has still been on until now, but sounded different.
Looking out the window, you couldn't see much from the heavy rain blinding the environment. It was lashing outside, and unfortunately, you were unable to fall back into sleep.
Pursing your lips together, you climbed out of bed, making your way to the door before opening it by a bit.
You treaded lightly, seeing Toji's head behind the sofa. Unable to tell if he was asleep or not, noticing that the TV was on, you approached him closer. Your head peeked over the sofa slightly, voice calling out his name.
"..Toji? ....Toji." You let out a loud whisper, the man grunting and turning his head around. It seems that he was fast asleep, but... sitting up. How scary.
"I can't sleep.. the weather, it's really awful outside." Nipping at the fabric of your shorts, you sucked in a labored breath of air through your nostrils before initiating a question. "..Can you- sleep beside me?"
Toji seemed less asleep, and now, he was wide awake. He looked over to the clock before reaching for the remote to switch off the TV. It was halfway through one in the morning. "What are you, nine?" He laughs before getting up from the sofa, trailing behind the sofa to follow you back into the room.
He questioned no more, and agreed. He'd do anything to be back in his room anyways, in the comfort of his bed, but of course knowing Toji— he'd never admit that.
The two of you hurried back into the bedroom, Toji automatically walking over to his side, while you, crawl back into bed. Making yourself comfortable again, you drape the cover over yourself, feeling the weight of the bed shift beside you, Toji making himself comfortable also.
You turn to your side, back facing Toji, unable to have him stare at your face all night. The room grew silent, and only the sound of the rain tapping against the window could be heard. Though you could still feel his gaze burning into your back, which happened to go away soon enough.
"No stupid stuff." He suddenly blurts out, which you were unable to decipher. Was he talking about what you thought he meant?
You decided not to respond, and instead, shifted around. You could feel Toji's natural body warmth all over your back, and with one more shift, you realised that he was close to you, actually, way too close to you.
But it was too late to move back, as you were too scared of irritating him by shuffling around so much that he'd kick you out.
A large hand snakes onto the side of your waist, gently gripping at your stomach. "Quit movin' around so much, will you?" It was Toji's hand, and he firmly kept you in place. Preventing any further movement. The continuous friction of your shorts against him had aroused him of some sort, and it was uncontrollable.
Another hard bump rested on the behind of your shorts, your eyes flying wide open, unable to shut now. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't know.. I'll stop."
"Sure, you didn't know what you were doing?" You couldn't see the expression on his face, and could only judge by the tone of his voice. Too bad you were facing away from him right now.
Giving in, your body aggressively shifts to face him, the natural moonlight peering through the windows leaving a bright enough glow on his face.
You gulp, Toji hesitantly using his finger to move away the fly-aways covering your face to get a better look at you. "..Don't know why that jerk cheated on you."
"..You don't know me, so.." You let out, Toji's brows furrowing as he studied your features harder.
Alternating between your eyes and lips, he let out a mixture of a grunt and a laugh. "Should go for a real man."
Your breath hitches at his remark, your mind trailing off to other translations of his sentence. He talking about the fucking, or dating aspect?
Silence grew between you, his thumb carefully swiping over your soft bottom lip. The air grew thicker and thicker, a sort of tension lingering throughout the room. You couldn't tell what initiated it, but the air felt suffocating, like it had its own hold of you.
Leaning in closer to his face, your warm breath fanned against his lips before he cupped your cheek with his hand, holding you close as your mouths latched onto each other. The tension between you two diminishing as your tongues intertwined.
Toji laid flat on his back as you straddled him under the sheets, the kiss turning sloppier, with a blend of spit coating your chins, the two of you moaning into each other.
You whimper, pulling away as you felt his teeth tug onto your bottom lip, a long, string of saliva creating a bridge between the two of you, both panting, chests heaving heavily.
Swiftly stripping your tank above your head, the sudden air had bit your skin, nipples growing hard to the touch, all perky and erect. Unable to see in the midst of the fabric covering your sights, you could feel both of Toji's large hands cupping your breasts, massaging them— thumbs toying teasingly at your nipples.
Palms pressing onto the flat of your back, Toji guides your hips with no rush in his movements, back and forth, groaning at the grinding sensation over his sweats, head heavily leaning against the pillow. Your top slides down onto the bedroom floor, breath irregular as you felt the thick tent in his pants dig into you.
You both swap positions, Toji flipping the two of you around with ease and no struggle in his demeanor, the man anchoring himself between your thighs.
Toji's lips latch onto your breasts, warm mouth wrapped around one, sucking away hungrily as he fondled with the other. A pop leaves his mouth as he lets go, using a finger to flicker your nipple gently, your warm, spit-covered nipples growing hard once again as soon as it meets the cold air.
You watch as Toji goes down on you, breath shaking as he peppered kisses down your stomach, disappearing underneath the sheets; leaving a few pecks dangerously close, and somewhere on your inner thigh.
Feeling his pointer and middle finger tug at the waistband of your shorts, you could tell that he was waiting; and so you raised your hips up slightly, allowing him to drag them down your legs.
His hands clasp around your two thighs, bringing you closer to his face, though you just couldn't see; Toji's tongue leaving behind a wet stripe against your clothed pussy, your body shuddering at the feeling.
Your mouth could only gape open, your eyes peering up at the same ceiling as you let out breathless moans here and there.
Toji's middle finger tugged your panties to the side, allowing your bare pussy to be on show to him completely, finally landing yet another stripe with his warm tongue. He eagerly sucks, sticking his same middle finger in, fucking your hole gently as he alternates between licking and fingering.
Letting out quiet moans, you fondle with your breasts, legs squirming as he inserted another digit, Toji using both hands to rip your underwear completely as he sucked on your clit
Your hand reaches for the pillow behind you, fingers clawing at the fabric.
Toji raised his own hips, practically on his knees to be able to palm at his own cock as played with you for your own pleasure, getting off to your moans as he continued to have you undone with his touch.
You could hear him grunt lowly, from time to time, but grunting in disapproval whenever you'd stamp your thighs on either side of his head, trapping him between your legs.
Your head leaning back, you gasped, eyes rolling as Toji curled his fingers up into you, eventually allowing his movements to come to a complete halt, your throat mewling in dissatisfaction.
"Not so fast, wanna feel you cum 'round something else," Toji appears in front of you, arising from under the sheets; stripping his own shirt off his body before tossing it somewhere across the room.
His body shifted around, and you assumed it was to get the condoms, where you already knew was located. Though you quickly took a hold of the strings on his waistband, pulling him back.
"No- I wanna feel you raw, Toji," Looking up at him as you said so, still laid on your back; the man could've sworn that his cock twitched at what you had just said.
Surprisingly, he nods, moving about to get his pants fully off him, struggling a bit, but managing in the end.
Toji uses a hand to jerk his thick length repeatedly, the other free playing with the flesh on your waist. "You sure about this?"
"I am." You replied, busy wondering how he was gonna fit inside of you. The condoms weren't lying.
Slightly and slowly pushing his tip into you, followed by the rest, the two of you groaned at the feeling, Toji grabbing onto both sides of your waist eventually; grip growing tighter as he stuffed you full. Your fingers clawed at his wrists, a moan escaping your mouth as you felt his girth stretching you out, Toji using his thumbs to caress your sides gently.
"All good?" He made sure, and you nod, letting him know that he could move, and you were perfectly fine.
Toji's hips began to rock back and forth, occasional groans coming from him, mentally thanking you for the fact that you let him do it raw.
"..F-faster," you let out, Toji now placing both of his hands on either side of your head, his hips bucking into you faster and deeper; the bed slightly creaking from his movements.
He continues to groan endlessly, head jerking back as he felt your gummy walls take him completely, cursing over and over again. Toji smashes his lips onto yours again, you moaning as a result, the man taking your head into his hands as he held you close; forehead leaning on yours as his cock bullied your insides relentlessly.
Pulling away, Toji grabs both of your legs, resting your ankle on each of his shoulders— allowing him to fuck into you deeper, and be impossibly closer, the man fucking you into a nasty mating press as the creaking intensifies; the headboard beginning to hit against the walls, the legs of the bed scratching all over the floorboards.
"S-shit, To-oji," Voice breaking up your words, you dig your fingertips deep into the muscle on his shoulder, Toji moaning closely against the shell of your ear.
He growls, resting his forehead on yours once again, maintaining eye contact with you, so intimately; "That's it doll, moan my name, come on," he coos, watching as your eyes squeeze shut; the man reaching his hand up to gently slap it against your cheek— telling you to keep your eyes on him.
You do so, and endlessly chant his name like a prayer; Toji grinning and leaving a peck on your lips before letting your legs go, allowing them to flop on either sides of his waist, effortlessly flipping you back around.
Pulling out rapidly, the flat of his palm presses against your spine. Hands kneading at your ass cheeks as he spreads them apart, leaving a long wet lick from your pussy past your asshole, he slides his cock back into your dripping hole— maintaining his previous pace as he holds onto the headboard, drilling into you with no mercy.
Beads of sweat glistened his body like that pane of glass, strands of his recently washed hair now sticking to his forehead.
"Atta girl," he moans, slapping your ass and leaving a red hand-print. "Fuck, take this cock," Your ass rippling against his pelvis, Toji grabs a handful of the soft of your cheeks, fucking you back onto his cock; a symphony of ass slapping, and balls hitting against your clit sounding throughout the room.
Your forehead falls heavy onto the pillow, voice muffled as you moaned helplessly into it; Toji fucking you in all the right spots, he meant it when he said you should find yourself a real man. He was showing you, what a real man was.
"C'mon baby, I wanna feel you cum all over me, p-please?" Toji pleads, his thrusts slowing in pace, but still rutting in deep as he fucks you passionately, guiding you by your waist back and forth on his cock to get those last few strokes.
Toji leans forward, pressing a tender kiss on your shoulder blade, feeling down your back as he left a few more, shivers going down your spine as he roamed his hands all over you,
A creamy ring forms at his shaft, thickening over time as he continued to fuck in and out of you; playfully pulling his thick cock out to heavily rest it against your ass, gliding it between your cheeks before sliding it back in. His tip red, and glossy, your eyes rolled as he slipped himself inside.
Toji picks up the pace once more, urging you to your orgasm; your fingers clawing behind you, trying to stop him from moving any more, your two legs shaking as they attempted to stay up, and support you in your arch.
He grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you back towards him; fucking your mind as he finishes you off from behind. "I'm gonna c-cum, oh fuck," you squeal, eventually making a mess all over his cock, squirting— Toji still fucking into you as your orgasm had washed over your body.
A dark puddle forms on the bedsheets underneath you, and your slick soaks on the flat of his thighs, a squelching noise emitting from underneath as you lazily rubbed circles on your clit; eyes rolling from the several sensations hitting you all at once— Toji’s cock continuing to piston into you.
Toji grunts, feeling you clench and unclench round his cock; a firm slap stinging against your left cheek as he instantly pulls out. "Turn around," he commands, breathing heavily and you obey; a firm grip still in your hair— the man guiding his cock with his index and thumb towards your lips.
Slapping his heavy girth against your mouth, warm ropes of white decorate your face; Toji grunting as he watches your face be painted with white, smearing his artwork all over your face, pushing his tip gently into your mouth as you sucked, sticking your tongue out for visual confirmation of the white orb of cum resting on it.
"Fuck.." he whispers, "Swallow it baby," Toji smacks his tip against your cheek, soon enough letting go of your scalp as he jerked his cock with a last few strokes.
Upon letting go, he immediately cupped your face into his palms once again, rewarding you with a tender kiss on the lips, sneaking a quick fondle at your breast.
Toji glances out the window, returning his gaze back to you glowing under the moon's light. The loud storm had stopped long ago. "..Don't you think those backshots were louder than that thunder clapping out there?"
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⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me. ily all soo soo much!
[luvwestwood masterlist]
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vagabond-umlaut · 2 months ago
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what is the point of lukewarm love?
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If I am not drowning in it, I have no desire for it.
Ⅰ. my beloved ghost and me
pairing: knight geto suguru x disgraced noble fem!reader tags: historical au; arranged marriage; slow burn; misunderstanding; arguments; kinda enemies to lovers; angst; drama; fluff; smut; hurt/comfort; eventual happy ending; MDNI; warning: ANGST, implied attempted sa (not to the mc), homicide, corruption; physical assault; abandonment issues; 1.7k wc notes: when i say this fic is the bane of my existence, i mean it in every sense of the term :) the chapter title is from here. the fic title and summary are from this post. the header is from pinterest. jjk isn't mine! please comment on the fic masterpost, or send me an ask, to be added to the taglist!! :))
Your husband is a callous man.
Disgustingly so.
But, of course, if you ever say the same to anyone else, they'll be certain to return you a scowl—not that they don't give you one now, but they'll make it much worse then—for how can you speak such ill of your husband: the oh-so-gallant, oh-so-chivalrous knight Sir Geto Suguru!?
Well, the thing is... first off, none of those outraged voices know the man as well as you do.
Secondly, and more importantly, none of them are you.
Born as the eldest daughter of one of the most prominent nobles in the Empire, you had always been told there was a golden future lying in wait for you. Elegant, graceful, refined—you grew up to be the epitome of each of these adjectives and so many more meaning the same. Something your parents and teachers adored you for, your peers resented you for, the general populace looked up to you for.
Long story short, your life was nothing less than wonderful.
But, as is the way with this world, good things seldom last long—yours too didn't.
The wandering hand of a noble.
The terrified screams of your maid.
The said noble's head rolling on the floor.
The pristine white of your gloves drenched in bright red, the same shade dripping from the sharp blade of a sword; that too, one which had always been an idle wall decoration...
Were the noble any lesser person, you know nothing would have happened. You did a right thing, after all, saving a poor helpless girl from the maws of a vile beast.
But no, he wasn't a lesser person.
He was the Emperor's little brother. Lecherous, yes, of course, no one could negate this; but he was His Majesty's youngest brother, eighth in line to the throne, which is why you weren't even taken to trial. The blood on your hands hadn't even dried before every title you owned were snatched away from you, and you were reduced from being one of the most highly regarded young ladies amongst the nobles to being a convicted criminal—
'Attempted theft of a royal jewel.'
'Harrassment of a member of the royal staff when they attempted to stop her.'
'Murder of a member of the Royal Family when they attempted to detain her.'
The story was changed, and with it thus twisted and distorted until not one letter of it was true, you were indeed nothing more than a convicted criminal—
A burden your parents waited not even a day before they decided to get rid of, before they decided to bedeck it in finery of the highest kind and send it to the slaughterhouse under the pretence of your hand being promised to Zenin Naoya.
You ran away.
Of course, you ran away.
Only to be spotted by one of your family's old servants, not even ten miles away...
What happened next is preserved very poorly in your memory—you remember reading in a book once, how one's mind tries to erase things too traumatic for them—but you do recollect the sheer panic and the utter desperation you felt as you were all but dragged back to the manor, you would swallow your tongue before calling it your home again. Oh, and, of course, the clinking of the thousand gold coins as your father awarded them to the man for his loyalty whilst your cheeks stung from the force of your mother's fury.
The Zenin heir cancelled the engagement within the next hour, claiming he had no desire to marry a disobedient wretch like you. When you scoffed and told your mother that neither did you have a wish to wed a cur like him, she slapped you again, drawing blood this time.
Your parents were prepared to disown you.
And you knew. And no matter how much it hurt, you were prepared to be disowned by them, prepared to leave and set out on a new path on your own—which is when your dearest husband entered the stage of your life, and without further ado, set it on fire—
Sir Geto Suguru, the paragon of virtue, so very darling to the Empire.
The envoy of death, so very terrifying to the enemies of the Empire.
The catalyst of your doom, so very dashing as he stood before your parents, the coal black of his hair and his eyes scintillant in the sun as he greeted them with a bow and a courteous smile—its keen shape perhaps not too unbecoming the sharpness of his mien, you thought absently, still blissfully ignorant to what lay in your future, as you stood behind your mother—  
It took Geto all but a moment to stand upright and ask your father for your hand in marriage.
It took your blood less than a moment to freeze in your arteries.
Were it before, you know your parents would've rejected such a proposal in a heartbeat; your world and the knight's were far too different, too far apart. But that day, utterly devastated, utterly helpless, you watched them both nearly sob in relief as your mother nodded and your father brought your intended into a hearty embrace.
The wedding took place a day later in an extremely private function.
Not even a month after which, Geto received his transfer orders to some remote town by the sea.
And giving you a set of barely-intelligible, insultingly-perfunctory reasons, more like 'excuses', as to why you couldn't accompany him; you're his wife, for goodness' sake; he dropped you off at your in-laws' in the countryside—people who hadn't even deigned to attend their only son's wedding—
You don't dislike them, though.
You dislike your husband.
The man who, by marrying you, has made himself an angel donning a mortal skin, a person too good for the likes of anyone and everyone; most certainly, much too good for you.
The man who, by leaving you barely thirty days into your conjugal life, has made you even viler in the eyes of others than you can ever imagine it to be possible, believe it should be possible.
The man who has visited his home, his wife, only a handful of times in the last one year, that too only for a handful of hours each time, never staying for more than one day and the next morning.
The man who doesn't care enough to reply to your letters, let alone send you any, only sending his father enough money to feed a village and a curt letter saying he's well on the third day of every month, the words devoid of even the smallest mention of the person he married and brought to his home—
If one says you hate Geto, you will simply nod in response and not breathe one word in disagreement, you think as you wrap the blanket tighter round your shivering form and stare at the waning crescent in the pitch-black sky.
It's lonely.
The moon is rather lonely, you reckon, a faint frown creeping onto your lips...
But definitely not as acutely, as painfully as you are—
After all, the moon hasn't been forsaken by its friends, parents and husband, has it?
The moon isn't forced to endure pitiful glances and scathing glares throughout the day, is it?
The moon need not spend night after night, either sleepless or seeing nightmares where it is abandoned in an entirely new way, tossed aside in an incomparably worse way by others—does it?
No.
You suppose not.
A pathetic little sigh escapes you as you force yourself to relax beneath the warm weight of the blanket, gaze soon drifting from the sky outside the window to your hands, to the pretty little diamond sitting on your left hand—only to stiffen when you hear a pair of feet pad into the kitchen—
"Do you have a fever?" A familiar voice rings out, so sleepy yet so worried, so kind—that too for you out of all the people the concern could be for—you can't help but become a touch misty-eyed.
It's your mother-in-law.
Sometimes, you think she's the only person you won't mind calling family.
The only person who, you don't think you're wrong when thinking, won't mind you calling them family.
Trying to hide a sniffle, you shake your head, lips shifting into a small smile on their own when you can finally discern her in the almost darkness, "Um, no. I'm totally fine, thank you."
"Alright," she doesn't press you any more, choosing to pour herself a glass of water instead. You look away from her, focus shuffling away to rest on the orange lights of the distant houses and huts against the blue backdrop of the night, when a quiet call of your name reaches you.
You turn back, only to find your mother-in-law wearing a knowing smile. She suddenly looks a lot older than you know she actually is—you wonder how your mother is faring—
Is she happy now that her shame of a daughter is away and no longer besmirching the spotless reputation of the family? Or, does she miss her first child, her 'sunshine', living so many miles away from her?
You know better than to ponder over such questions; yeah, you know you do.
"Yes, Mother?" you ask; the aftertaste of the last word not as sour as it used to be in the early days of your marriage, you register absently all the while wondering why her smile appears to grow when you call her thus, "Is—"
"I've raised Suguru to be brave and true-hearted," she says, and you cannot help the way your form grows rigid at the mere mention of his name—nor the burn settling behind your eyes nor how your throat clogs up, words dying far before they're fully formed when the remainder of the sentence clicks into place in your brain—"He will return to you, darling. I'm sure of it."
Hours from now, you will wonder why your mother-in-law is telling you all this.
You will wonder why she thinks your sleepless nights are because of her son, especially when you haven't breathed even a syllable of your distress to anyone; least of all, to her.
You will wonder why she sounds so sure while she's reassuring you of your husband's return.
Hours from now, you will tear your brain apart and put the pieces back together, in search for answers to these and so many more questions.
But now, in this moment, you don't think.
You screw your eyes shut and bite your lip hard enough to taste blood, trying your damnedest not to cry—until you decide you're much too wounded, too too weary to put up a good front—
And you cry, and you cry, and you cry.
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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year ago
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𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒆𝒏
🕊️a whore's fairytale masterlist🕊️
summary - when snow white (you) escapes into the woods to escape the queen's order to kill, she learns that not all strangers should be trusted.
warning - smut, swearing, choking, under a spell, dubcon, creampie, slight angst, death, breaking and entering, jealousy, oral sex, kidnapping/entrapment, attempted poisoning and murder, group sex, groping, dark content.
18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
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The Queen sneers, staring at herself in the mirror. “Mirror, mirror, on the wall.” Her eyes squint, and her back straightens. “Who is the fairest of them all?” The answer she was expecting wasn’t what the mirror gave her. 
“Y/n is the fairest of them all.” The Magic Mirror spoke, a live video of you playing before her, your sweet self hums to the animals, pulling a small bucket from the well, capturing the attention of the many people that pass by. 
“What?!” She screams, and her face becomes red with anger. “No one is more fair than I! The Queen must have the best of everything. Everyone knows that. What could be more fair?” 
“Y/n is the fairest of them all!” The Mirror repeats, not caring for the tantrum the Queen is throwing. 
“What do you know? You’re a mirror!” She huffs, rolling her eyes and storming off. A plan sets in motion as she heads to where the huntsman rests, ordering him to take you out of the equation. 
You had spent your time running through the woods, away from your horrid stepmother and the huntsman that she had sent after you. Your hands clutched your skirt, lifting it from the ground, and your bare feet dodged the many sticks and rocks. Your breath is heavy, and you can hear his footsteps catching up to you. “Little Snow! You can’t run from me! The Queen ordered me to kill you!” You gasp, picking up your pace, desperately trying to distance yourself from him. 
You squeal and cry as your foot gets caught on a root sticking out of the ground. You fall forward, tumbling for a few seconds until you end up on your back. Fat tears cover your cheeks, your eyes are puffy, your hair is ruffled, and your once-beautiful dress is ruined, ripped and dirty. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears as the huntsman appears in your vision, “P–please! You don’t have to do this! I–I won’t tell anyone if you let me go! Please!” You cry you beg, you plead. Your hands curl into the ground, crushing the dirt into your palms. You don’t notice the magic flowing through you and into the ground. You are so caught up in begging the man not to take your life. 
He shakes his head. “I have to. I was given an order.” His head continues to shake, clutching the knife as he desperately doesn’t want to kill you. “If I return and the Queen finds out I didn’t obey, she’ll kill me.” 
You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the tears slip past, and your lips tremble. You nod, accepting your fate. You wouldn’t be able to escape this. “O–okay. If taking my life means you get to keep yours, okay.” You breathe in and out, a soft sob passing your lips. Your brows furrow as you are met with silence before a crunch and a groan follow it. You slowly peek your eyes open, wondering what caused the noise, and a shocked sob escapes you when you notice a giant black wolf on top of the huntsman. Yellow eyes stare back at you, and you feel oddly calm before standing on shaky legs. It’s as though the animal is giving you enough time to escape. “T–thank you.” You take off running again, the sky becoming dark as night falls, heading in the opposite direction of the castle. 
You happen to stumble across a wooden cabin tucked away in the middle of nowhere. You rush forward, rapidly knocking on the door. “S–someone! Is anybody there?! I need help, please!” The door is pushed open from your knocks, and you cautiously enter as you receive no reply, looking around. “Hello?” When you don’t get a response, you decide to take a closer look. “Such a dirty place…” You think out loud, “Maybe if I clean up a bit, whoever lives here may help me.” You nod to yourself and walk over to a broom that rests against the wall and grab hold of it. You get swept away cleaning and then cooking before you slowly make your way upstairs, noticing seven large beds, making you wonder who lives here. 
“I hope they won’t mind if I…” You ponder, going over to a bed that reads ‘CRANKY’ and sitting for what was supposed to be a second. The moment your body hits the mattress, your eyes flutter closed, and a deep slumber hits you with full force. 
You wake to someone or something poking you. Your eyes flutter open, blinking as you notice many different men surrounding you. You gasp, scooting to the headboard, pulling your knees to your chest. “Oh, please don’t kill me! I–I promise I didn’t do anything wrong!” Your bottom lip wobbles and your gaze shoots between theirs frantically, wondering if the Queen also sent them. 
A man with blue eyes and his hair in a man bun scoffs. He crosses his arms over his chest, and your eyes land on one of them being shiny. “Who are you? And what are you doing in my bed?” A growl practically escapes his lips, and his eyes scan your body with a lick of his lips. 
You gasp, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know! I–” You're cut off as you try to get out, but a larger man stops you. His light blue eyes and blonde hair cause your breath to catch in your throat. 
He shakes his head with a soft smile. “Don’t listen to him, ma’am. We are just startled, is all.” He turns his head, glaring at his best friend before looking back down at you. “Now, why don’t you introduce your pretty self and explain why you think we would kill you?” He sits at the end of the bed, resting a comforting hand on your leg. 
“Oh, I do apologise. Where are my manners? My name is Y/n, but I am more known as Snow White.” The men are shocked, wondering what the princess is doing in their cabin. “The Queen is trying to have me killed, and I don’t know why. S–she sent the huntsman out, and he chased me through the woods until I was able to escape, and that is how I stumbled across your home.” 
A throat clears, and you turn your head to look at another man who’s built like a bear, with pretty blue eyes and blackish hair. “She wouldn’t be trying to kill you for no reason. Tell us what you really did. You can’t really be that innocent.” 
“I–I swear–” The man touching your leg interrupts you, giving you a soft look.
“It’s okay. You don’t need to explain yourself. I can see that you are innocent. I mean.” He looks around at the men with his brows raised. “What innocent person would break into someone’s home and decide to clean and cook? The breaking in part obviously doesn’t sound great, but look at her. She needs help.”
The man with the blackish hair speaks again while nodding. “You’re right. I apologise. We’ve been rude and haven’t introduced ourselves. My name is Clark, but these bastards call me Bossy.”
The man touching your leg smiles. “And I’m Steve, better known as Brawny.” He points to the man with a permanent scowl on his face. “That’s Bucky. We call him Cranky, though.” Bucky rolls his eyes, wondering why the hell they haven’t moved you from his bed yet. Though, he has been having a great time imagining you tied to it while he pleasures you.
Another man with a flirty smile leans against the bed, coming close to your face. “I’m Johnny, yet these guys call me Sleazy. No idea why. I would’ve said Flirty.” Johnny wiggles his brows, loving the shy look that crosses your face.
A man with a beanie and dirty face and hands nods. “I’m Curtis, known as Dirty around these wankers.”
Your eyes land on a man drinking what seems to be alcohol, and his eyes are half-lidded as he stares at you. “I’m Dean or Tipsy. Whatever you prefer, but I’m hoping to make you scream one of them later.” Your eyes widen.
Your attention is pulled away from Dean or Tipsy to a darker man touching your arm, looking at you with a smirk. “I’m Sam, baby. But you can call me Horny.” You blink, stunned, never having heard such words come out of a person’s mouth before, but you know that you cannot judge as you did break into their home.
“O–oh, it’s nice to meet you all. Such interesting names.” You fold your hands in your lap and look around at each one of the men. “I would like to cook you, men, some dinner as a thank you for not kicking me out.” You watch as they nod, and you give a soft smile to Steve, who helps you off the bed. You head down the stairs, and all seven men follow behind, watching your hips sway beneath the dress. They sit, watching as you start to heat the food. It’s magical to them. You turn around, the food nearly ready. “Please go and wash up before dinner.” 
“What? No.” Bucky growls, refusing to get up from the seat while the other men immediately stand and head out. Steve grabs hold of his best friend and drags him out, ignoring the shouts and yells. “Steve! Steve! Stop!” 
You shake your head, turning back toward the pot, stirring it before you turn off the stove and grab hold of it, bringing it to the table and setting it down. “Dinner!” You watch as the door swings open, and the men walk back in with smiles, smelling clean. “Don’t you men look dashing!” They thank you before taking a seat, watching you with wide eyes as you fill their bowls with the delicious-smelling stew. 
Clark tilts his head as you take the pot back to the sink, noticing that you didn’t make a bowl for yourself. “Are you not eating with us?” The other men stop with their spoons midair, looking between you and Clark. “Come, sit. You deserve to eat the food you cooked.” Clark pats his thigh, raising a brow when you don’t move. “I’m called Bossy for a reason. Now, sit.” You scurry over, taking a seat on his thigh, feeling a weird tingling sensation between your legs as you feel how thick his thighs are. “Good girl.” He nods to everyone, and you all begin to eat. Clark occasionally brings the spoon to your mouth, feeding the two of you. 
During the night, you get to know all of the men, laughing and listening to stories. Steve stands, clearing his throat. “I hate to interrupt this wonderful evening, but we have work tomorrow., and I think it is best if we get some rest” The others agree, and you get up to bid them goodnight, practically tucking them into their beds and placing soft kisses onto their foreheads. You are about to head back downstairs, needing to find somewhere to rest, but Steve stops you. “Y/n, here.” You spin, heading over to him with furrowed brows, wondering what he is talking about. He pulls back the blanket and pats the space next to him. 
“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude more than I have.” You gnaw on your bottom lip, feeling like you’ve been a bother. “I can find somewhere else to sleep. I saw a blanket downstairs.” Steve gives you a look that makes you quickly crawl into the bed, and your body shivers when you realise how cold you’ve been compared to the warm man. Your body curls into his larger one, sighing as sleep takes over you before you can even register.
You wake to birds chirping and the sun shining through, your eyes flutter open, and you stretch your arms above your head. You slowly pull Steve’s arm off of you and get out of bed, making your way downstairs, and you decide to prepare breakfast for the kind men. You cook eggs, bacon, pancakes, and a fruit platter, wanting to give them a filling meal for their big day. You smile and turn as you hear the men bound down the stairs, dressed for work with hunger in their eyes. “Good morning! I thought I’d make you guys some breakfast before you go. I hope you don’t mind.” 
They smile, thanking you before sitting down. The same happens as the night before. Clark pulls you into his lap and feeds you some of his breakfast, ensuring you also get to eat. You stand once you finish, gathering the dishes and walking over to the sink, gently placing them down before walking to the door and handing the men their coats.
Clark is the first one to grab his coat, thanking you. “I hope you have a good day today.” You lean up, resting your hand on his muscular arm and kiss his cheek softly. Clark smirks, tipping his head before walking out the door.
Steve is next. Once his coat is on, he leans down for you to reach his cheek. “Thank you, Snow.” Steve turns his head and returns the favour, kissing your cheek and smiling as you become shy. 
Bucky huffs, “Can we hurry this up? We have work to do if you haven’t noticed.” But everyone ignores him, and he watches with envy as you continue to give each man a kiss.
Curtis gently takes his jacket from your tiny hands, closing his eyes as he feels your soft lips on his cheek. A smile on your face, “Have a good day, sweetheart.”
Johnny walks up next, smirking at you and already leaning down. You give him a soft smile and lean forward, but he turns his head last second, and you gasp. “I–I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!” You freak, staring wide-eyed at the happy man. 
“Don’t worry bout it, Baby.” Johnny winks, giving your arse a smooth pinch before strolling out. You feel your body and cheeks heat up, eyes still wide as you watch him leave.
“Well damn. He did it before me.” Dean rolls his eyes, slapping your arse after you give him a kiss as well. “Doesn’t matter. Have a good day, Sugar.”
Sam pulls you close, tapping his cheek before resting his hands on your hips. He groans as you lean up and kiss his cheek softly. His hands move down and squeeze your cheeks, pulling you even closer. “Mmm, Snow. You make a man so feral.” 
Once Sam leaves, it leaves the last man, the crankiest of the lot. Bucky grumbles, going to reach for his coat, but you pull back slightly and give him a pout. He rolls his eyes, bending slightly, and when you gently kiss his cheek, his whole face grows pink. “Whatever.” Bucky clears his throat and quickly leaves, leaving you in their cabin all by your lonesome, not prepared for what is to happen next. 
You hum to yourself, beginning to clean the place. You don’t notice the magic swirling around you, calling the forest animals to the cabin, some even helping you clean. You wash the men’s clothes, and the birds hang them along the line. You are so lost in your own world that you don’t notice an older woman watching you from the shadows, a scowl on her face, but the older woman also doesn’t notice the large black wolf watching her. 
You giggle, leaning over to pet the cute little bunny that hops in your direction before you walk inside the house. Your hands become busy as you begin to prepare another apple pie, continuing to hum to yourself. “Excuse me.” You turn, hearing a knock at the open window and someone talking. You smile softly, walking closer to the older woman. “I–I’m so sorry for bothering you. I am just a poor old woman trying her best to sell some delicious apples.” 
You lean against the counter, peeking over the window sill and looking at the basket of apples. “That is perfect! I’m baking an apple pie and in need of some apples!” You give an innocent smile to the older woman.
She reaches her hand into the basket and grabs a big red apple that sits at the top. “Take a look at this big red apple.” She holds it up to your face, watching you stare at it in wonder at how perfect it looks. Your hands slowly reach up to touch it, but the woman jerks it back. “Lovely, isn’t it? But you cannot touch without a price.” 
You gnaw on your bottom lip, looking between the woman and the apple with furrowed brows. You desperately needed more apples to make the pie. It had to be perfect. “I need that apple… But I, uh, I don’t have any money.” 
She thinks, knowing that this apple contains something horrible. The Queen realised there was no point in a price when she would finally have you dead. That was good enough. “Oh, my dear. No need to worry for a first-time customer. I will let you have this apple for free.” You look at her, shocked, cupping the apple as she hands it to you. She watches you, desperately wanting you to take a bite out of it in front of her, but she doesn’t get her hopes up.
“Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! How can I ever repay you? You are so kind. Please let me give you something!” You go over and grab a plate of freshly baked biscuits, heading back over to her. She tries to refuse, but you persist. “Oh please, It wouldn’t feel right if I were to take this for free. Please take as many as you want.”
“Okay, thank you. That is kind of you, my dear.” The older woman takes one, bidding you goodbye before disappearing into the shadows again, wanting to watch what unfolds. Her eyes widen as she watches you begin to cut the apple, mixing it into the mixture of the pie. She thought the call of the apple would cause you not to resist a taste. “Oh, no, no, no! This won’t end well. You stupid girl, you should’ve eaten the apple yourself.” She huffs, stomping her foot. “The poison only works for those it is intended for… If she serves it to others, it can have side effects, and I do not need that in my hands.” She growls to herself, knowing that she will have to put a stop to this or kill more people than intended. 
Before the Queen can return to the cabin, she is met with the giant black wolf. Its teeth bared as it growled. She scoffs, waving it off. “Be a good puppy and leave. You can’t destroy the Queen.” Her eyes widen as your hums begin again as you place the pie in the oven, and she realises that you are the one controlling the animals, even if you don’t know you are. In the moment of shock, the wolf lunges, and your sweet melodies drown out her screams.
You are happy with how the pie has turned out, placing it on the window sill to cool down. You wait patiently for the men to return home, sitting curled up in a chair with a book between your hands. You’ve made the house more into a home, having gone out and picked some pretty flowers to put in a vase, gathering some wood for the fireplace, and keeping the food warm for when they walk through the door, their clothes all folded neatly. You stand when you hear them, their voices carrying through the air. 
Clark opens the door with a smile, “Hello, Little Snow. I notice that you’ve been busy.” He moves past you, brushing his hand across your hip as he moves to the pot, smelling the delicious scent. 
The rest of the men enter, Steve, being the second after taking his shoes off and giving you a large grin. “Snow! Did you have a good day?” You nod, giggling as he brings you into a hug. He lets go of you and walks over to the pot also, not used to coming home to dinner already prepared.
“Sugar!” Johnny enters, pulling you into him immediately by gripping your arse in his large hands, causing a squeak to fall from your lips. “You look so good. I could just eat you up.” He grumbles when Dean and Sam push him to the side. “The hell?” 
“You're hogging her,” Dean grunts, pulling you against him, and your eyes widen when you feel him grope you so freely. “Hey, sweetheart. You’re so tiny.” He blinks down at you, and you get a whiff of the alcohol already on his breath. 
Sam grows annoyed, pushes Dean out of his way and pulls you against him also. “Don’t hog Snow here. I want some too.” His large hands grip your arse, rubbing his bulge against you, groaning softly. “How you doing, baby?” 
Curtis and Bucky stand near the entrance, watching everything unfold. You smile softly at Sam as you let go, walking over to the two men and ignoring the shocked gasp they let out as you pull them into a hug, greeting them with your kindness. “Come, sit. Dinner’s ready, and I’ve made a pie for dessert!” You skip over, waiting for them all to take their seats before you grab the pot and serve the food. Dinner goes well, and it’s finally time for them to taste your sweet pie. You walk over to the pie, carefully picking it up before bringing it to the table and serving them a slice each. “I hope you guys enjoy.” 
The moment the pie hits their tongues, the magic begins to flow through everything and everyone, eyes turning a bright pink for a split second before they let out soft groans from the flavour that explodes on their tastebuds. You don’t notice anything that has happened. You are too happy to see that they enjoyed your baking. 
The atmosphere in the room has changed. Every single man in the room felt their heartbeat quicken and their breathing become heavier. Their eyes are half-lidded, and their members harden, growing rapidly in their pants. It seems their gaze is set on you, eyes darkening as they look you up and down, slowly getting out of their chairs and surrounding you. 
“That was a great pie, Little Snow,” Clark growls, getting closer. “But I want to taste something a little bit sweeter.” You squeal as Steve and Bucky hold you, ensuring you can’t move as Clark kneels, lifting your dress and letting out a thick groan when he realises you haven’t been wearing anything underneath, your folds slick with your juices. “Aren’t you a dirty little girl? Wearing nothing while staying with a bunch of men.” You moan as he surges forward, licking from your hole to your swollen button. “Fuck, she tastes so much better than that pie.” Your walls clench when Clark moves close again, gripping your thighs as he nuzzles his face into your soaking cunt, licking and sucking. 
You whine as Steve grips your chin, turning you to face him and locking his lips with yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Bucky groans. The hand that isn’t gripping you moves to your plump breasts and squeezes and fondles them. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as Clark begins to suck on your swollen clit. You whimper into Steve’s mouth before gasping as a finger softly pokes against your entrance, breaching into it with a slow thrust. Your head falls back onto Steve and Bucky’’s shoulders, not noticing the other men rubbing their bulges through their pants, watching the scene before them with dark eyes. 
A choked whine escapes you when Clark curls his fingers while Bucky and Steve suck on your hardened nipples, swirling their tongues around. Your back arches, hands gripping their shirts as your vision becomes white and your juices flow out of your sopping cunt, covering Clark’s smirking face. “Fuck, Little Snow. You taste even more divine.” He curls his fingers in, happily watching how you twitch, your arousal still flowing out. “Men, clear the table. We are in need of a different kind of dessert.” He commands, standing to his full height and stepping aside. 
Steve and Bucky pull you toward the table, carefully setting you down and stepping back. All of the men stand and admire how beautifully blissed out you look. Johnny stumbles forward, his hardened member already hanging out of his pants, and you gasp as your gaze falls upon it. “T–that won’t fit…” You begin to shake your head as he slips between your spread legs, pulling you flush against him. 
Johnny smirks, tapping your cheek. “Dumb little sugar. I’ll make it fit. You’re so fucking wet. I’ll slide in so easily.” He reaches down and grips his throbbing base, tapping his leaking tip against your swollen clit before lining up against your entrance. Johnny groans when he pushes in, gasping at how tight you are around him. “Oh god! You feel so good, Sugar.” His hands grip your hips, slowly pulling out before thrusting into you harder. A grin forms on his face at how your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting out a sob as his tip hits your sweet spot.
You are suddenly lifted, and your eyes widen when you feel something poking your already stretched hole. Your head turns slightly, and you notice Sam giving you a cheeky smile, “Don’t worry, Snow. I’m just gonna join in on the fun.” You gasp when he slowly begins to push in, stretching you even more alongside Johnny. Sam’s head falls back, and he groans, “Holy fuck! You’re so fucking tight!” His grip tightens on your hips, and the thrusting begins between the two men. When one pushes in, the other pulls out, and your screams fill the cabin. Johnny pulls you into a deep kiss while Sam grips your hips and pounds hard into you. “Oh man, can you feel how tight she is?” 
Johnny nods, groaning. “Fuck yes! I don’t think I’m going to last long!” His pace picks up, slamming harder and faster into you before he buries his face into your neck as thick amounts of cum spurt out of his angry tip. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” Johnny slips out of your stretched hole, sagging into a chair as Sam pulls you down, pounding into you from behind, thrusting Johnny’s cum deeper into you. Your mouth falls open, and your eyes roll into the back of your head as Sam slams into your sweet spot, causing your walls to clench around his thick member and your juices to squirt out of you.
“Good little princess,” Sam growls into your ear, slamming his cock harder into you before burying inside of you, releasing his cum deep into you. “Fuck.” Sam moves back, the magic draining out of him, and he sags next to Johnny, their eyes fluttering closed. 
You squeal when you feel someone grabbing the back of your head before you start gagging as Curtis shoves his thick member into your mouth, thrusting in and out. “Jesus.” His head falls back, and his eyes half-lidded. “You’re mouth is so warm.” His hands hold your head, and he pulls out slowly before thrusting in again. You moan around him, swirling your tongue around his swollen tip before starting to suck, loving the salty taste that lands on your tastebuds. 
Dean smirks, gripping his throbbing member and tapping his angry tip against your used folds. He lifts your hips before sliding in, groaning at how tight you feel wrapped around him. “Damn, sweetheart. How are you still so fucking tight? You were just stretched by two cocks.” He begins to set his pace, pounding into you, pushing you to choke on Curtis’s cock. “Go on, sweetheart. Choke on his cock.” He groans, fucking into you faster. His tip repeatedly hits your sweet spot, loving how you feel as you squeeze his cock. “Shit! I’m so fucking close!” 
While Dean is busy chasing his orgasm, Curtis holds your head down and thrusts into your throat. His head rolls back as you moan around his member. “Such a sweet mouth for a sweet woman.” Fat tears roll down your cheeks, gagging around him, and your eyes roll to the back of your head when Dean fills you, setting off your orgasm, causing your arousal to coat him, and the vibrations from your moans cause Curtis to groan and release deep into your mouth, gripping your chin until you swallow and show him. “Good girl.” 
You whine as both men pull out and watch through blurry eyes as they also sag into the chairs. Your head flops down onto the hardwood table, breathing heavily. “Do you think we are done with you, Doll?” Bucky steps up, a pink swirl in his eyes as he peers down at your used form. “There’s still three of us.” You gasp when he picks you up, wrapping your legs loosely around his hips while lining his tip with your entrance. Steve steps behind you, and his hand strokes his cock up and down. Your eyes roll back, and your head flops onto Steve’s shoulder as Bucky pushes in. A loud whine escapes you when Steve follows suit, slipping his giant cock through your tiny hole. 
Both men begin to take turns pounding in and out of you. Clark steps forward and grips your chin, turning your head to capture your lips with his. “Who knew Snow White was secretly a whore. You like being used by seven men, honey?” You moan, nodding and clutching onto whoever you can. Clark grips your throat softly, making your dazed eyes look at him. “Of course you do. Only a little whore like you would like being used. No wonder the Queen wanted to get rid of you.” He moves closer, smirking as Steve and Bucky pick up their pace, causing your mind to go fuzzy. “She couldn’t have any competition because you’d end up stealing the attention of men away from her.” You nod along, barely hearing anything that leaves his mouth, too focused on the intense pleasure coming from between your legs. 
Steve presses forward, his hands kneading your breasts as he buries himself deeper inside you. “You feel so good, Snow.” He begins to kiss your collarbone and shoulders, groaning as you tighten around him. He picks up his pace, feeling his balls tighten and his cock twitch, a loud groan escapes him as cum spurts out of him, filling you to the brim. “Fuck…” He pulls out, sagging into a chair, his eyes falling closed. 
Bucky moves you, pushing you against a wall and pounding hard into you. “Fuck, take my fucking cock.” He grunts, bouncing you against his thrusts, filling you repeatedly. “You better take my fucking cum, slut. It’s what you are made for.” His metal hand wraps around your throat and squeezes, feeling his cock throb when your eyes widen and your walls spasm, squeezing the life out of his cock. “Oh, what a dirty little slut you are. Who would’ve known you liked being choked.” Bucky smirks before he grunts, burying himself deep inside you and releasing large amounts of cum. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” The moment he pulls out, his body does the same as the others, and before you can fall, Clark catches you and gives you a dark smile. 
“Oh, poor Little Snow. You should’ve chosen another cabin.” Your eyes widen when his eyes flash, and his cock fills you immediately. Even though the Queen was dead, it didn’t mean her minions died along with her. They just now had a mind of their own, a darker, more twisted mind. Your moans and screams echo outside the cabin. Clark’s member was bigger than the others, practically splitting you open. He growls, gripping your throat tightly. “You better find a way to wake the others when I’m done with you because you are ours now.” You are suddenly bent over the table, surrounded by the sleeping men, your nails dig into the wood, and your eyes roll into the back of your head as Clark slams deep into you. 
Your vision goes white as he repeatedly hits your sweet spot. Your juices squirt out and cover him and everything around. Your head hits the table as he continues before filling you with his cum, mixing with the others. You barely have time to register Clark’s body dropping as the magic leaves him. You shakingly stand, your legs wobbling, and you grip the table beneath as you look around and take in the sleeping bodies, or so you thought. You stumble over to the closet man, which happens to be Steve and feel his pulse. 
Your eyes widen, and your body drops as a wail escapes you, magic exploding from your body as you release every emotion you’ve been keeping in. Your eyes begin to close, and the last thing you hear is the men coming back to life, their hands grabbing you and bringing you upstairs. 
Come morning. You would learn never to trust strangers. 
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marthawrites · 6 months ago
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Bloodlust
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Aemond Targaryen x wife reader
Word count: 2.6k+
About: Aemond, unable to leave you behind in King's Landing on his way to Rook's Rest, returns to you after a successful scouting mission.
Includes: Contains future Fire and Blood spoilers (prelude to battle at rook's rest and a couple of the events leading up to it - mentioned, but not heavily described), and SMUT. Featuring murder (no descriptions of it), blood, Aemond's slightly (?) unhinged, blood eating (this is a fantasy in a work of fiction - please do not do this irl), reader is hot for Aemond's gloves, blowjob, rough Aemond, minor praise, unprotected vaginal sex, brief degradation, creampie, and reader and Aemond say 'i love you' at the end. Whew! Apologies if I missed anything!
Note: Hello lovely reader! This is pure filth. Sorry for the grainy header photo. This specific gif is still driving me insane and was the whole inspiration for this fic! As always, reader is non-descript and I hope you enjoy it! ♥
With Lucerys’ death, the war of ravens came to an end, and the war of fire and blood began.
Prince Aemond Targaryen, your lord husband, barely allowed you from his side much less from his sight. 
Kinslayer everyone called him. In fear, in awe, as a curse. 
After the murder of the King’s princeling son, Jaehaerys Targaryen, King Aegon II would no longer fight this war with quills and ink. He meant to win it with swords and blood. An eye for an eye. A son for a son. King Aegon dehanded his grandsire, Otto Hightower, as Hand of the King and gave the pin to Crison Cole instead. Criston was ravenous for it and immediately began planning an attack against the Blacks.
Duskendale would likely stand little chance against the Greens who were three-thousand men strong. If by some miracle they were able to defend their city, Aemond upon Vhagar and Aegon upon Sunfyre would overwhelm them from above.
Despite the odds being in your husband’s favor, anxiety still gnawed at you from the inside. The hour was late and sleep evaded you at every chance inside your martial tent. War was hardly the place for a woman, but Aemond refused to let you stay behind at the Red Keep while he marched to battle. He trusted your safety to no one except for himself. He deemed there wasn’t a safer place in all of Westeros than with him. You believed him.
You weren’t the only woman traveling with their army. There were other lady wives in similar positions to your own, a few cooks as well, and medics. Judging by some things you’d heard along the way, you weren’t too sure if there wasn’t a gaggle of whores somewhere too. 
The company of other women made you feel significantly better–whether they were whores or healers alike.
No one was allowed in yours and Aemond’s tent, however, and everyone knew that. Regardless if you and Aemond were inside or not, a pair of guards stood watch outside at all times. Tonight, a third armored man joined.
Criston, Aemond, and a small group of soldiers scouted ahead to gather what information they could on Duskendale’s defense. Hours had passed since they left. Ideas, scenarios, and other horrible images filled your brain on what might be happening. The entire scouting party was extremely skilled; the rational part of your brain knew they’d be able to handle anything that crossed their path. Yet… what if Duskendale housed monsters like the Targaryens housed dragons?
There wasn’t any room for a fire inside the tent. Nor was it safe. An oil lamp sat atop a makeshift desk and a few scattered candles lit the darkest corners of the space. Laying on your side, you watched all of the little flames and prayed for your husband’s safe return. 
Perhaps you dozed off, or went into a sort of prayer-induced trance, or simply lost track of time, but a clattering commotion outside seized your attention. Fight, flight, freeze: the instincts of any animal. Leaning up you grabbed a dagger from the makeshift nightstand. You held it in front of you, ready to defend yourself if need be. Fight. You would go down fighting. 
Aemond’s soft voice whooshed inside on a rush of cold night air. “Ābrazȳrys.” wife
“My love!” You said with an exhalation. You laid the dagger back down and stood, stepping to him with hurried strides. “Blessed Seven you returned! I’ve been so worried.”
He walked towards you as you came to him, long steps slow and sure. If he had taken note of the dagger in your hand he made no mention of it. His silence was almost as unnerving as the glint of his dilated eye in the low light.
You meant to throw your arms around his neck and squeeze him against you so you knew him to be real and true, right here and now, rather than a ghost summoned by your worst nightmare. But, something stopped you. You stared up at him, doe-eyed.
The blood splattered across his alabaster face spoke more words than he could vocalize. The smell of him–metallic and heavy–sent your own blood rushing. Even his hair was matted by thick streaks of dark blood. “What happened?”
A serpentine grin slid across his chiseled face and his seeing eye lit with deranged lust. His gloved hands gripped around your forearms, squeezing. “They’re dead.”
“W-who?”
“Duskendale scouts. We found them, questioned them, and killed them,” he answered with  soft-spoken intensity, gripping your arms tighter. “Cole’s speaking with Aegon now. We attack tomorrow. Duskendale will fall, and Rook’s Rest after. We will cripple my half-sister and uncle’s strategy before they gain it.”
Your pulse hammered against your chest. Behind your ears. You weren’t sure if Aemond realized how harshly he held your arms. It hurt. “Th-that’s wonderful news,” you stammered, looking up at him with a mixture of awe and creeping fright. “Are you hurt?”
He shook his head and let go of your arms. Then, he held your face as he crashed his mouth down to yours, kissing you with victory that smelled, and tasted, of copper. “My brother will have his throne,” he rasped against your mouth. “My whore of a sister and her bastard horde will never claim what is Aegon’s by right.”
You whimpered against his mouth, against his words, melting into him as he wrapped his arms around your waist and hip. Lifting your hands to grip onto the front of his dark green doublet, your breath caught in your throat. Blood stained the white of your chemise where he had squeezed your forearms. It looked nearly black in the tent’s candlelight. Leaning back half a step, you looked down your body and saw the front of you stained as well. Not only was his face and hair speckled with blood, but his new military garb was covered in it. “Aemond…!”
“Shh, my sweet wife,” he said against your neck, nipping the sensitive flesh.
Confusion, elation, and lust roared through your body, all of them trying to outdo each other. None of the emotions won. They only succeeded in tightening the muscles of your belly and making your entire nervous system quiver. Why were you like this? Why did your prince husband covered in other people’s blood make you yearn with dark desire? Goosebumps rose on your skin as Aemond nipped, kissed, and sucked all along your neck and shoulder. On instinct, you began to work open the buttons on his overcoat; you’d only seen him in this garb a few times, and your fingers fumbled with inexperience over them.
“I’d do it all again,” he said by your ear. “I will do it again. All across the Seven Kingdoms.”
You understood his meaning. You heard what he left unsaid. Pulling back, you peered up into his seeing eye. A hundred emotions lay bare for you to see: rage, satisfaction, confidence, hunger. “Who are you doing it for?” You asked softly.
“For my brother. For my hatred of my half-sister. For you.”
Aemond’s leather glove was warm when you grabbed his hand–the blood on it slightly sticky to your bare touch–and you nuzzled your face into it. “My sweet, dark prince,” you cooed, kissing his palm. His fingers. Languid. Dizzy on the intoxicating aura radiating off him. You bit the tip of one finger, sly; blood that certainly wasn’t your husbands smeared your mouth.
Witnessing your reverence had Aemond groaning in low inaudible High Valyrian. His soft raspy voice praised you in words you didn’t know. With his free hand he pulled you against him, his hard cock pressing firmly against the soft span of your belly.
You moaned behind his hand. “You will win this war for your brother,” you said adoringly. “Not Crison, not Rosby, or Stokeworth, or anyone else. You and Vhagar.” The feeling of him against your belly had embers searing your senses. Without allowing yourself to think twice about it, you licked one of his gloved fingers. The leather was smooth beneath your tongue, and your tastebuds exploded with the coppery taste of some man’s blood.
Aemond fucking groaned. 
You did it again.
Tension sparked down your spine like lightning and that delicate space between your thighs clenched around nothing. Despite the barriers of clothing between you two you swore you felt him throb. “You are the only weapon Aegon needs.”
He watched in fascination as you shamelessly licked the bloodshed from his glove. He nearly spent in his pants as you took his thumb into your mouth, sucking. “My filthy wife,” he hissed, pulling you further into him. He kissed you again and this time he tasted blood. He licked into your mouth, seeking it deeper. 
Each little moan his passion coaxed from you, he swallowed whole. Once again you began fumbling with the front of his attire, working the buttons open until you were able to push it off his shoulders. Beneath he wore a simple linen shirt, and you helped tug that off, too. With one final nip to his bottom lip you began to sink down to your knees before him.
Aemond watched you hungerly. 
You could unbuckle his belt behind your back by now–it stood no chance as you deftly slid it open. The front of his pants didn’t fight you as his tunic did. You pulled them down enough to free his cock, and you wasted no time in pressing deliberate, hot, open-mouthed kisses along it. You didn’t care that he was unwashed. If anything, the scent of leather, sweat, and battle on him made your desire boil over. Saliva instinctively collected in your mouth, and your eager kisses soon had your tongue sliding along him. By the time you wrapped your soft, lovely mouth around him it was lewd, and wet, and slow. You looked up at him, watching him unravel as you made a sensuous show of swallowing as much of him as you could.
Aemond’s eye hooded as he watched you. He would never fucking tire of watching you take him whole–your mouth or your cunt. Blood still streaked your exquisite features. It made the whole thing obscene. Blood from men he killed to protect his brother. To keep the throne for him. To protect you. “Fucking hells–,” he hissed. “There… yeah, oh yeah, hold my cock in that little throat of yours.”
Tears brimmed your eyes as you held, drool already threatening to dribble down the swell of your lip onto your chin. You knew your husband liked it slow and messy like this. You knew he’d have the muscles of your throat flex around him until your head became dizzy from lack of air. You loved it–and he knew that. You held onto his thighs for support, cunt soaked and throbbing between your legs.
He pulled back slightly, before pushing forward, giving your slobbering mouth deep shallow thrusts. “I love how you sound gagging,” he praised, threading his gloved hand into your hair.
You nodded, tears still threatening to leave your eyes, moaning deep in your throat to his lecherous praise.
With a handful of your hair your prince husband bobbed your head along his cock for his pleasure, fucking into your mouth with perfect timing. He tipped his head back. He could never get enough of this.
His strokes were getting longer and quicker, now, a sure sign that he was getting close to finishing. You held on all the while, savoring the rough treatment as much, or perhaps more, than he was.
Finally, he stopped. Looking down at you again he said, out of breath, “I want to fill your cunny tonight, not your mouth.” Then, he clicked his tongue and said, “up.” He helped you stand, and before he could stop himself he was kissing you again, wild and voracious, licking away any trace of blood he had left on your face from earlier. He walked you backwards to the bed all the while and only stopped when the backs of your legs bumped into the cot. Smirking, he helped you out of your shift. He pushed you back onto it before finally stepping out of his pants and boots. 
Below him, you didn’t even care that his Targaryen hair was clumped with dried bits of blood. No, all you cared about was the weight of his cock as he settled it against you. Hot, heavy, smooth. He was perfect. All of him was perfect.
He squeezed your breasts in his hands–he was still wearing those fucking gloves! Of course he took everything off except for those!–rumbling his appreciation at the softness of them. His cock lined up with you effortlessly. With a push of his hips, he sunk into you. 
The stretch of him, the fullness of him, the sensation of being as close to him as you ever could be, had your eyes rolling closed and mouth parting open. In that same effortless manner, your legs wrapped around his trim waist. You were so wet that your body immediately yielded to him. You bit back a moan, not wanting to draw attention from anyone who might be in earshot of your tent.
Above you, Aemond smiled a dark smile. Shadows danced across his features and made the angular lines of his face sharper. “How does it feel to be right where you belong? Under me, full of me, wet as a maiden and hungry as a whore?”
Your legs flexed around him tighter. Heat bloomed beneath your face. “S-so fucking good..!”
He could see you holding back your sounds of pleasure. “Let them hear you,” he said, thrusting into you harder. Deeper. “Open that pretty mouth and let them hear.” Fingers pinched your nipples as he plunged into you again and again, filling you to your body’s end.
Even if he wanted you to stay quiet there was no way you could. Your sounds of pleasure spilled from your mouth as he nearly fucked you through the cot. It was as divine as it was harsh. Rough as it was loving. You weren't going to last long. Aemond wouldn’t either. “God–! Aemond..!” His name left your mouth in a wanton gasp, back arching.
With your mouth hanging open, he pushed two fingers inside to muffle some of those beautiful noises. “My pretty wife overwhelmed with bloodlust,” he crooned, tilting his head as he watched your fucked-out expressions.  “Come with me,” he rasped, cock swelling impossibly harder. “Come with me.”
You did. The tension in your belly snapped, and any restraint you were holding vanished. Your thighs quivered around him. The emotion and sensation that overcame you was intense and all consuming. Aemond, Aemond, Aemond. You’d give him a babe tonight. You knew you would.
He throbbed inside your flexing and relaxing walls, his seed filling you past the brim of your cunt. It dribbled out of you while his thrusts slowed. His breath came heavy and labored, face finally softening in the orange glow of the tent. “Vok. perfect You are so perfect,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours as you both came down from the heights of shared orgasm.
Your legs loosened around him until they lay open, allowing him to slip out from the cradle of your body. “Duskendale will fall tomorrow,” you said to him, kissing him gently. “You will be the victor.”
He laid beside you, then, and pulled you against him so you were laying on your sides face to face. “Anyone who dare face me will fall. The entire realm will fall before me,” he answered with the softest utmost confidence.
Nodding, you smiled and kissed him again. “The world is yours, my prince. With fire and blood.”
“With fire and blood,” he proclaimed, hooking your leg over his waist. Then, he whispered, “I love you.”
And you said it back, meaning it wholly.
-
Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥
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airbendertendou · 2 years ago
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safety [of a killer’s arms]
gender neutral reader. no killer in mind so they/them pronouns used. killer is bigger / taller than reader [bc they're a lil monstorous it makes sense in my mind]
synopsis : an unnamed survivor [he/him] makes you feel sour - for lack of better words. one trial, you find yourself running to the murderer instead of away.
if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.
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he always made you uncomfortable. sliding up beside you at the campfire ; his hands lingering when he patched you up ; sly nicknames that made your skin crawl. with a gulp, you flinch as the generator you’re working on finished, lighting up the spot you were hiding at.
taking in a deep breath, you stand and slowly observe your surroundings. the lack of a heartbeat and chilling feeling of being watched was absent — you were safe for now. you tread along carefully, eyes peeled for any sudden movements.
“[name],” the hairs on your arms prickle just at the sound of his voice. you don’t turn — you only continue moving forward. “we’ll be safer together. come stand with me.”
you ignore him. lips parted, your breathing struggles to steady as panic starts to build up. you can hear his feet shuffle behind you ; he’s starting to speed up to catch you. “[name], come on! it’s only us now.”
it sounds like a threat. his tone is reassuring, words light and airy, but it still feels like threat. it’s only the two of you ; no one else around. you gulp again, speeding up just a little more. he lets out what sounds like a laugh, “are we playing a little cat and mouse game?”
“go find another gen,” you call out over your shoulder. you quicken your pace a bit more, “we can still win this.”
“i did win, [name].” he lets out another laugh — it sounds menacing ; dark. everything a survivor shouldn’t be. “i’ve got you, all to my self.”
your heartbeat picks up, pounding in your ears. on the edge of a sprint now, you can see the killer of this trial in the distance. you speed up more, ignoring the muffled curse behind you as you barrel straight into their arms.
a vice grip is around their torso. arms around their waist, you bury your head into their neck as your breath leaves in panicked pants. “jus’ kill me,” you whimper out. “please.”
their hands are raised above them, weapon still poised from when they prepared to swing it at you. curiously, their eyes fly to where you came from ; to where your fellow survivor had now made himself known.
“[name],” you whimper at the sound of his voice. his eyebrows furrow, playful smile falling from his face and growing stern. “let them go. now.”
“he won’t leave me alone.” you whisper it into their chest as you burrow further into them. “watching me. waiting for me. touching me. i— he won’t leave me alone.”
their hands had fallen to your hips now, peeling you away from their torso. you whimper again but relax when they pull you behind them. just what had this man done — what had he made you feel — that was so bad you looked to a murderer for comfort? for safety?
he lets out a huff, taking a step closer. you mold yourself into their back in retaliation. “[name], come on. we have to win this game. jus’ you an’ me now.”
you want to scream at him. want to cry and yell and hit him until he stops talking ; until he stops eyeing you so desperately and hungrily. phantom fingers dance on your thighs, reminding you of the hidden touches he’d take from you ; careful whispers echo in your ears of the things he’d do to you once you were alone.
you couldn’t go with him ; refused to.
the killer of the trial made a show of raising their weapon again before they flung it toward him, hitting him directly in the chest. with a small oof!, he falls to the floor before struggling to get back up. as he limps away, he glares at you and it feels more sinister than the heart beating in your ears.
“safe.” it’s a promise. your killer pats your shoulders as gently as they can, moving you so that you’re a little more hidden. they crouch so that your eyes look into theirs, “safe.”
stay here, and you’ll stay safe. i’ll take care of him while i’m gone.
the breath of relief you let out is immediate. and it’s so stupid — how secure you do feel with someone who’s life revolves around murder. but, compared to the creeping touches and lingering gazes of your fellow survivor, they are a safe haven.
they come back after a scream of terror hits the area you’re in, drenched in blood and almost skipping with joy. gently, your hand is looped into theirs as they tug you along the map.
“home,” they say. “take you home.”
and so you’re lead to the hatch, lowered into it because your legs are too shaky to handle your own weight. before you fall, your fingers grip onto the edge of it and you peer up at the killer once more. your lower lip trembles, “thank you. i can’t say it enough — thank you.”
every trial with them after that feels gooey — warm — as you’re always saved for last and treated less harshly than the others. he never looks at you again ; instead he shakes in fear at the thought of you and the giant bodyguard you’d acquired.
lingering gazes come from outside of the campfire now — but they make you feel protected and watched over ; safe. they always manage to make you feel safe.
idk where this came from so don't even ask hehe <<33 tagging it w killers i thinlk would act like this but you can always add your fave <3 airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.
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romana-after-dark · 2 months ago
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Our Gentle Sins: Part 7
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Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader
My god this header is ass but I was an emo kid what can I say
Series Masterlist : Main Masterlist : Logan Masterlist
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Chapter summary: Past. Logan has a nightmare. Present. You have a nightmare.
Warnings: This fic features non con, pregnancy, and themes of religous trauma. I will not be saying everything that happens to warm you, by clicking read more you are prepared for extremely dark themes and that you at 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption.
EXTRA WARNING!!!!: Pretty graphic. Again, I cant and wont tag everything but I dont wanna throw you off.
2.3 words
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Before
“Logan?”
Your voice broke through the noise, the sound of machine guns and children screaming and a bomb dropped in the distance but he heard you. Everything was disjointed, every war, just or unjust, melded into others. Nazi’s shot by WWI German troops, a confederate soldier beheading an English man, Indigenous tribes fighting alongside terrorists, a confusing group to say the least. Still, he heard you.
“Logan!”
You, standing in the middle of it all in a modest pink dress. You, pristine as if you were teaching a class but surrounded by blood and bodies and murdered innocents. You, who when he blinked, was covered in blood but not from bullets or beyonets or gunned up airplanes, but slashed up like Freddy Kruger was hopping his way into his dream. You were holding your stomach, scrambling to keep your guts inside yourself. He was trying to reach you, but hands pulled him back. He couldn’t see faces, but Logan knew they were the hands of all those he’d killed. In front of him, separating Logan from you now, were other. Scott, Charles, Jean, everyone who’d told him to stay away from you.
They aren’t helping you, they aren’t even trying. Instead, they just admonish Logan.
“See what you've done?” Jean asks, and Logan tries to push through.
“She’s bleeding! She needs help!” He screams and screams, watching as you fall to your knees, blood beginning to spill out your mouth. “I need to help her!”
Charles now, voice calm. “I think you’ve done enough.”
“No! I didn’t hurt her! I’d never hurt her! Please, Dolly! Dolly I’m coming!”
Scott, for some reason without his glasses. “We knew this would happen, we knew you couldn’t be trusted, Logan.”
“I wouldn’t hurt her! PLEASE! Just- Let me- DOLLY!!!”
You’ve collapsed, convulsing on the ground as you shout his name over and over again. Logan screams for you, using all his strength to try and get away, to help you, get you out of the war zone and to help, but the weight of the hands around him are too much. They pull and grasp and voices moan in agony behind him.
They pull him away from you.
“LOGAN! WAKE UP!”
Then his eyes are open, claws out and he’s scanning his dark bedroom for the danger, the danger he knows has to be there because why else would he be so fucking scared? But then he turns and he sees you, standing in the corner with your arms crossed over yourself and and he thinks back to the scene in his head where you were dying and Logan almost runs to you- but when he moves, he sees you flinch.
There is a long, long moment where the only thing breaking the silence were your ragged breaths and the pounding of blood in his ears, eyes inter looked in mutual fear. Logan looked at you like you were a spooked deer, even though it was him that felt an unyielding terror inside. You stood in PJ’s, and as his eyes adjusted he took in the new side of you, clothing revealing more than skin you didn’t show. You slept in a dress. Not pants and a top, not a dress meaning lingerie or something cute. Logan thinks for a moment of those outfits worn on the Amazonian Islands in the 70’s Wonder Woman show, how it was just lingerie. No, nothing like that. You just wore a dress, something akin to what he’d seen women wear more than 100 years ago, something a grandma would wear now, a skirt that went to the mid-shin.
Even in the privacy of your own bedroom, you weren’t free from the rhetoric. He bet you wore cotton panties.
You were the first to speak, voice soft and careful as if you weren’t the one shaking. “Are you… okay?”
You, sweet beautiful you, were concerned about him. He’d had a nightmare, because of course he had, of course he could never be free from all the before… but he was okay. 
“Yeah, I uh…” Logan ran a finger over his face, shaking off the tremors. “Nightmare.”
A little nod from your head, then your voice, barely audible. “I get them too.”
Of course you did. Of course a sweet wonderful little doll like you was plagued like this. 
Logan relaxes, shoulders slumping and he slides his legs over the side of the bed before burying his face in his hands. “I’ll kill him, you know.” He mumbles. “Just tell me anything, anything about him and I can track him down. Anything about you.”
The name you used wasn’t a real name. You’d chosen from some woman in the bible you admired, a jewish woman who used her beauty to seduce an enemy and slayed him. Judith was the subject of two Artemisia Gentileschi paintings, hence his familiarity. Logan wasn’t an art guy, but being the history teacher he’d had to brush up on his renaissance art. Your last name was fake too, something you and Charles drummed up and probably had some other religious significance, although he wasn’t religious enough to know. Maybe he’d ask Kurt. 
It’d all been faked and slapped on some ID’s no one would ever be able to tell weren’t real. Your new identity was sealed. Even if you left the school, you could go on. Charles had even faked an education degree and high school diploma when you promised to not use it to do anything you weren’t qualified for. Charles didn’t want you to be trapped at the school, and since the school had been your only option at the time, you’d been given a freedom to leave. This was more than your husband had ever done, keeping you trapped and helpless, not even knowing how to drive. 
All he needed was your real name, and he could track your husband down and bring his head on a platter like John the Baptist. Was that a Gentileschi painting, or was that Caravagio?
“I know.” Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts like you had done with his nightmare. “Which is why I won’t tell you.”
When Logan looks up, he sees you still standing so far away from him, and chuckles dryly. “You scared of me now, doll face?”
You shake your head no, but it’s not as confident as he’d have liked.
“I’m in my pajamas. You’re shirtless in shorts. There’s a bed.”
His eyebrows rose at that. “You think I’d do something to you?”
This time, when you shake your head, it’s much firmer. “No. Absolutely not. It’s just… I was always taught to never be in a man’s bedroom… or I might bring something on myself, or it would lead me to sin, or, or there’s something about the appearance of sin… I dunno, it’s just considered improper.”
He let the words settle into his skin. Sometimes, loving you was like the women he’d loved, bedded, courted so long ago. Such a different time, a different world. Yet you were still so different. Back then, women were just waiting for someone to untether them, give them an out, run away. They craved that freedom, the liberty sex brings. Logan didn’t know what you craved. There was nothing inside you that said you wanted to scream, to be unhinged, to let go. You weren’t a bubble waiting to pop, you were simply happy to be as you were, dresses and all.
“I understand, Dolly. Thank you for uh, for waking me. But you should really just let me be, next time.” Flashes of Rogue all bloodied in his arms flattered across Logan’s memory. Kayla, scratched up before his bones became the weapon they are now.  “I might accidentally hurt you.”
Something he doesn’t recognize flashes on your face before you give a little nod. “Are you alright? I can go make you some tea?”
Part of Logan wanted to say yes, because he loved when you made him tea, but you looked tired. “No, thank you doll. I’m alright. Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting weird.”
“Thanks kinda my thing, isn’t it?” You smile just a little, making a bit of a face as you walk sideways towards the door. “Little homeschooled teen marriage weirdo?”
Logan’s eyes narrowed at your weird behavior, not turning your back to him, but he decided he didn’t need to question your every move.
“You’re not a weirdo. You’re one of the coolest people I know.”
You laugh at that, eyes bright as always, and slide out the door.
After
You scream. And scream. And scream, over and over again. There’s blood everywhere. Logan tore everyone you loved apart; your students, your fellow teachers, Scott, Jean, Kurt, Emma, Charles. Every single one was hacked to pieces. Logan pinned you to the ground, pounding into your cunt as if you were just a lifeless doll. You didn’t fight. You didn’t scream. Were you screaming before? You can’t remember now.
Lifeless you lay, head lulled to the side as Logan fucked you. There was blood coming out of your cunt, but you didn’t know how you knew that. Spread and prone and stretched you took what Logan gave you, his soft words grunting in your ear.
“Isn’t this better, doll? Not fighting? See, I can make it good for you. I can make you wet. You’re so wet for me, my little submissive dolly.” It wasn’t blood between your legs anymore, it was cum as an uncomfortable orgasm swelled through your body. Still, ever so still, you never moved. Remy lay next to you, unrecognizable outside of intuition as he’s just a pile of slashed flesh now.
“My perfect, lifeless doll.” You’re pliant in his hands.
Suddenly Scott is in front of you, a bodiless head , eyes gouged out of his face, nothing but bloody pits. Still he speaks.
“You did this.”
No. No you’d never-
“You’re dangerous. Violence follows you. You’re a grenade.”
It wasn’t you! It was Logan!
“It hasn’t always been Logan. But it’s always been you. You are the common denominator.”
You blink and it’s no longer the friends and family and children of your new life. It’s your mom and dad, siblings, in laws, everyone who meant something to you before. 
It’s your husband between your legs now, and you think there is nothing possible worse than this, nothing could be worse than him being back. Everything you went through, it’s never going to end. You’re dying. Maybe you’re dead because you’re watching from above now, your body on the ground and cold.
Your husband strokes your lifeless, compliant form. “The perfect wife.”
You’re back in your body, your mother lying next to you now. “Why couldn’t you just be good?”
You wake up to Remy shaking you.
His voice is an immediate calm, a recognition that he isn’t dead, he’s not a mass of gore on the floor while you’re being raped, killed for something you’ve done that you didn’t even know what. He’s alive.
“Remy!” You grab his shirt, pulling him to you and you don’t care that he’s a man half on your bed. He’s alive. Remy has often woken you from nightmares, his room right next to yours. Remy was closer, but Logan could hear you from further. Still, Remy was a light sleeper, so he usually got to you before Logan was aware.
Once you let go, Remy took several steps back, right up against the wall. This was something Remy did to prevent further anxiety. You trusted Remy fully, you never got an inkling that he wanted to fuck you or was playing the long game, just that he wanted to help you.
“They are getting worse again, pistache. It’s more often than when you first came here.”
You pull your blanket close to your chest even though you were fully covered. Remy slept in boxers, but he wore a robe around himself, something he bought after the first time he helped you through a nightmare. He came in in just his underwear and you were only three days into joining the school. Needless to say, seeing a man almost naked had scared the ever living hell out of you, so Remy bought a robe to cover up without having to waste time dressing. He was thoughtful like that. 
“I know, I know. I just… stress… I got the prom coming up, been a lot.”
Remy frowned, “Planning a high school dance shouldn’t trigger nightmares. Is this because of what happened at the ball?”
You wince. That memory was a lot, something that you didn’t like to think about. You doubted Scott did either, and if his jaw was ever the same. 
You took to long to answer, looking down at your blanket, so Remy continued. “I know that you and Logan have had… a falling out.” Your heart clenches at the words, heat flushing over your skin. Your blanket hid what you had been under loose clothing; a bump. You tuck your knees up so the blanket downs fall over your stomach. “I think he can fix it. You and him… well, I thought you’d get along before you ever met him. I brought your down stairs that first day because I’d seen him walking in, sent him to the store with you, sent him to have lunch… I think you two suit each other.” Remy gives you a smile. “You soften him. He protects you. It’s good for you both. Whatever it is, I think you can fix it. That’s all I’ll say.”
Remy stayed true to his word, not continuing about it… but you couldn’t help thinking how horrified he’d be if he found out what Logan did to you. He’s still gone, coming back any day now. Remy thought you softened him, and you suppose you did. For a while. 
You let Remy get you a snack, a little sweet treat to get the sick taste out of your mouth and cheer you up. He was kind, attentive, but the memory of him as nothing but a pile of slosh haunted you. Logan was dangerous. You were already worried about Scott prying where he didn’t need to, worrying about him getting himself killed, but now you think about Remy. What will he do when he learned Logan raped a baby into you?
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Logan returns to his dolly next chapter! Next chapter we have 2 dances. Past, a ball Dolly put on because of the pride and prejuduce unit for her lit class, and presant she put on a sort of prom for the teenagers.
That chapter is where we get another HUGE chunk of dolly's past! the final bombwill be nearer to the end. I'd LOVE to hear your thoughts on what you think dollys secrets are!!! There was a hint this chapter!
Ideas for a poll is always welcome! as are songs for the playlist
I need to make a better cover pic now that ive gotten a feel for the series and its themes
If you've read Rooms on Fire or The Wrong Way, you know I tend to write a similar type for these dark series. Dolly, Little one and Madonna are all girly, quieter, feminine, submissive types. I hope that those whove read it all, because i know some people have read most things i put out, don find dolly boring. I think all three are unique in their own ways, and Dolly has her own things too, even if she's quiet and nervous
I love all yall and am so thankful for the support ive gotten here!!!!!
please remember, comments keep me writing. It doesnt have to be a compiment, just something that shows engagment like "remy is a good friend"
@multiversed-daydreamer @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @del-ightfulling @miraclesabound @hindi-si-ikay @samsamsantos @madamerubrum @shybluebirdninja a @hornystan @rogueinmymind @accountforreading123 @yawnetu @princessanglophile @and-claudia @new-genesis1000 @teaganthemorningstar @oldloganslittleslut @zaggprincess2 @bugsinmyeyez @groundclueless @cosmolight
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darby-rowe · 11 months ago
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ULTRA.
❛ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐫𝐬. 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬. ❜
dark!peacekeeper!snowjanus x fem!district!reader — a miniseries of ficlets and oneshots
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✝ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✝
warning. this series will contain dark and disturbing subject matter such as noncon and murder, along with heavy and graphic smut. many, many, many dead doves afoot. MDNI. proceed with caution.
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𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒
I. THE BOTTOM LINE [soon...] II. INSIGHT [soon...] III. SURRENDER [soon...] IV. IT'S NO GOOD [soon...] V. THE LOVE THIEVES [soon...] VI. BARREL OF A GUN [soon...]
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featured painting in header: Desdemona, 1871. Alexandre Cabanel
darby-rowe, 2024. do not plagiarize my content, nor distribute my content onto any other website like AO3, etc. my writing is exclusive to tumblr only.
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realityrain · 11 days ago
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✧°˖────———- ・・・・・ . ☽ ‧₊˚ ···╮
🦎ˊ˗꒰ shift-blr intro ꒱˚⊹ 。
╰┈ ‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ ・・・・———-────°˖✧
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DISCLAIMER!! this is pretty long and probably boring but if it interests you just scroll down to see my DR intros .. + a redo? yes it is.. i wanted to add my do and don’t support and more of my DRs and information !!)
─────────.⋆ 。‧˚ ʚ🪲ɞ˚‧ 。⋆ .─────────
╭ ‧₊˚ˎ🕯️ˊ˗ 𓊆 A G E -
i am currently 16 and will be turning 17 this upcoming june the same day my sister turns 20!!
╭ ‧₊˚ˎ🕯️ˊ˗ 𓊆 S O C I A L S -
i have two tiktoks, two blogs, and a pinterest account dedicated to my shifting journey! not to mention my 20+ spotify playlists for my DRs.. my users are in my bio except my Pinterest which is my main tts user (@probablylucid) and i follow all shifters back on all my accounts!!
╭ ‧₊˚ˎ🕯️ˊ˗ 𓊆 L I K E S -
some of my favorite shows: brooklyn 99, bones, criminalsminds, my mad fat diary, community, gravity falls, anne with an e, and hunter x hunter | some of my favorite movies; kate, gunpowder milkshake, the craft, assassination nation, deadpool, ready or not, multiverse of madness, rush hour| other likes: hello kitty, halloween, music, making script headers/ dividers + outfit claims, night, stars,headphones, green, snow/rain, WINDD, youtube lolcow documentaries , youtube 5 hours family guy / american dad videos 
╭ ‧₊˚ˎ🕯️ˊ˗ 𓊆 O T H E R -
i go by she/her!! bisexual?? i first started shifting in 2020 due to peak dracotok, and grew away from it for almost two years until my first truant case in 2022 and have been pretty active since!! i haven’t shifted yet (or else i’d be yap abt it) but will be soon!! also i accidentally deleted my entire notion like 5 months ago
⟡—— ・ ₊˚♱ ‧ ₊˚₊——⟡——₊˚♱ ‧ ₊ ˚. ・ ——⟡
╭ ‧₊˚ˎ🕯️ˊ˗ 𓊆 D O S U P P O R T -
- species changing(monster, god, witch ect.)
- aging up/ down(for right reasons/not “excessively”)
- permashifting
- merging DRs
- multiple versions of one DR
- being overpowered
- not using methods/scripts
- not using/liking any form of shifting media
- face claims(i feel i have to say this one)
- all unique DRs
- prioritizing your mental heath and shifting journey
- asking for advice and tips!!
- DOING YOUR OWN RESEARCH!
- “too many” or “to little” DRs
- not liking/ interacting with shifting media
╭ ‧₊˚ˎ🕯️ˊ˗ 𓊆 D O N T S U P P O R T -
- race changing
- aging down only to date minors
- scripting immense trauma for you or others
- not scripting out racism, homophobia, sexism(etc.)
- “you can’t script/do that” do what you want but don’t get mad when you get rightfully hated on
- murder/straight criminal DRs
- not giving respect to others that give it to you
- not treating people in your dr like they’re real
- scripting a mental illness that you don’t have
- comparing your shifting journey to others
- over working yourself (trying new methods every night /not giving yourself breaks)
- doubting yourself(i understand not being confident but don’t spread the doubt)
- spread misinformation
- “they’re my s/o not yours���
- “it’s just lucid dreaming” suck my ballz
╭ ‧₊˚ˎ🕯️ˊ˗ 𓊆 D R / S C R I P T I N F O -
~ i have 8 DRs total but will only be introducing 4 of them!! the other 4 are just not a priority for me and i wont be shifting there anytime soon no i felt no need to add them
~ because i mash my DRs so much i label them with angel numbers!! mainly because i can just call them one term (ex. “mcu DR” or “supernatural DR”) i been doing this for almost 3 years and honestly love it and connecting them to my DRs
~ i mash / merge all of my DRs!! basically taking typically more than 2 potentially completely separate DRs and merging them!!
~ i don’t have any scripted face claims or significant others!! for my appearance i just script traits and over all vibes/concepts, as for s/o’s i don’t really script anything but do have some intentions but could definitely not follow through on them or even switch interests / feelings
~ I ALWAYS script an older sister with the intention of her being like my OR sister(is that weird) idc she’s my soul sis
~ i have a pinterest board for all of my DRs with at least 6 sections in each!! the sections i always have is closet, tops, bottoms, accessories, items, claims and aesthetics!! but for some boards i have sections for “magical” items, realms, inventions, powers and insta posts
~ i have corresponding colors for all of my DRs? they typically match my powers and vibes of that DR / self
~ my only shifting flex is my “aesthetic” scripts fr. it just makes scripting fun for my procrastinating self.. i also typically have 10 pages in my scrips with no pages in them(if that makes sense??) idk i just like having all the relating info in the same page(just me?)
~ i always script im taller ( like 5’10/ 177cm) .. i also script excessive tattoos and piercings bc i luv being a baddie
~ lastly i also typically script two middle and last names.. for the plot??? for fun?? l don’t even know it’s just nice
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┆ 〃 ⁺ 𓊆ྀི8 8 8 DR𓊇ྀི⸝⸝ ₊┊
“HYSTERIA ALONE MARS SOLSTICE”
𓂃⋆🐞.˚⋆ MAIN INFO ~
18, born august 8th 1988 in athens greece, 5’9, ESTP, fake identity / name ~ aiden sloane irris, older sister, new head of the liaison unit at global investigation service agency (GISA) , color “theme” red mainly + brown , currently live in brooklyn, ill first shift on june 21st 2007
𓂃⋆📍.˚⋆ LIKES / VIBES ~
the neighborhood, ladybugs, fast cars, philosophy, vintage trinkets, messy hair, stacked jewelry, driving, analysis, pomegranate, art forms
𓂃⋆🩸.˚⋆ DR MAIN ~
brooklyn 99, bones, NCIS
𓂃⋆🪭.˚⋆ DR SIDES ~
criminal minds, NCIS, kate (movie) , bullet train, equalizer, ect.
⟡—— ・ ₊˚♱ ‧ ₊˚₊——⟡——₊˚♱ ‧ ₊ ˚. ・ ——⟡
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ᯓ★.ᐟ 1 1 1 DR 𓂃⋆.˚
“SATURN WISTERIA BLUR NEVULA NIGHTFALL”
𓂃⋆🪐.˚⋆ MAIN INFO ~
16, born january 1st 2001, 5’9, ISTJ, 5th year mainly “mythic” high student, ravenclaw, cousin + aunt and older sister, color “theme” mainly purple + white, first shift on September 1st 2017, cosmic/night based powers
𓂃⋆🦷.˚⋆ LIKES / VIBES ~
lana del ray, stars, snow, cold weather, ripped clothes, cosmic energy, plants, the moon, night time, defending, astronomy, horror
𓂃⋆🔮.˚⋆ DR MAINS ~
harry potter, monster high
𓂃⋆🐦‍⬛.˚⋆ DR SIDES ~
owl house, lord of the rings, school for good and evil, adventure time, slumber land
─────────.⋆ 。‧˚ ʚ🦴ɞ˚‧ 。⋆ .─────────
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˖⋆࿐´6 6 6 DR ঁ ༄ ̼̫
“ MERCURY CHAOS GEMINI GENESIS BONES”
𓂃⋆🌌.˚⋆ MAIN INFO ~
15,born on june 6th 2006, 5’10, ENTP, gotham central student, currently live in gotham/NYC (merged), one older sister and aunt, will “inherit” the MIB when i turn 16, first shift on october 9th 2021, air/“chaos”/force based powers, color “theme” black and white but blue for aesthetics
𓂃⋆🌬️.˚⋆ LIKES / VIBE ~
tame impala, spirals, wind, chaos, eyes, cities at night, connections, photoagraphy, animals, sour foods, tights + shorts, music, dreaming
𓂃⋆👁️‍🗨️.˚⋆ DR MAIN ~
marvel, DC, men in black
𓂃⋆🌪️.˚⋆ DR SIDE ~
starwars, gunpowder milkshake, dune
⟡—— ・ ₊˚♱ ‧ ₊˚₊——⟡——₊˚♱ ‧ ₊ ˚. ・ ——⟡
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╭₊ ꒦꒷┊1 3 1 3 DR┊.ᐟ ༘ 𖦹𓈒
“ LUCID-RAIN NOSTALGIA SALEM THEORIA”
𓂃⋆🌉.˚⋆ MAIN INFO ~
17, born march 13th 1993 in rome , 5’9, INFP, first shift on october 4th 2009, junior high school student, twin + older sister and mother, water / mind based powers , color “theme” orange + blue and brown
𓂃⋆🐟.˚⋆ LIKES / VIBES ~
funky combos, jellyfish, the ocean, rain, cloudy weather, “old” music, luck, gossip, deftones, piercings, investing supernatural, not talking
𓂃⋆🍂.˚⋆ DR MAINS ~
supernatural, gravity falls, twilight
𓂃⋆🪼.˚⋆ DR SIDES ~
the vampire diaries, teen wolf, the secret circle, etc.
─────────.⋆ 。‧˚ ʚ🌊ɞ˚‧ 。⋆ .─────────
that’s pretty much it!! i hope you enjoyed and please share any feedback or suggestions you want!!
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fancyschmancyopinions · 2 years ago
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SELENA GOMEZ at the 2nd Annual Academy Museum Gala on October 15th 2022 wearing ALEXANDER MCQUEEN
I loved how classy Selena looked at this event. Most attendees wore beautiful dresses, so Selena really stood out in this beautifully tailored suit. The lines felt so crisp and clean, the look was so flattering. Even in all black, Selena really shined. I loved her pulled back hair, and the silver jewelry she wore. This look was definitely under appreciated, but it was a great one for Selena.
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sharp-silver4795 · 2 months ago
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Silly Creepypasta Contacts
Inspired by this post
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These are all from BEN’s Perspective cuz who else would do this? let’s be honest.
A few of them may need explaining-
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21 Pilots Bitch (Judge Angels)
🎶you’re the judge, oh no, set me free, oh no
I know my soul’s freezing, hells hot for good reason
So please… take me🎶
“The Judge” song by 21 Pilots
No brain-only scythe (Scarecrow)
🎶if I only had a brain🎶
Slender’s Lapdog (Rouge)
Rouge is given the nickname “The Operator’s Watch Dog”
BEN’s making fun of that
Nordic Cat (Kat Hunter)
The name of Kat’s cat is Loki, a Nordic god
To BEN, Kat means nothing in comparison to Loki
Which is correct
Chippy (Toby)
Toby likes chips
Aaaaannnnddd someone called him “twitchy” once and BEN thought they said “Chippy”
It’s just a running joke now.
Boring (Tim)
“Masky” is a boring asf name
He would have called Brian Boring too but the Voyeur was too good
Voyeur (Brian)
The camera
Whack-a-clown (Candy Pop)
The mallet
Frosty (Ani)
🎶 frosty the snowman🎶
Precious Baby (Lost Silver)
He thinks of Lost Silver as a lil bean
He’s not exactly wrong either
Scary Bitch (Kate)
Joker Reject (Jeff) ; Cat Woman (Nina) ; Lesbian Batman (Jane)
Jeff has the Joker smile
the people he tried to murder are going to beat the shit outta him
Tick-Tock (Clockwork)
Muscles (Zero)
Girly is strong
Buff friend
Not a Twink 🤯 (Liu)
BEN was thoroughly shocked to find that Liu actually has muscle and such, it’s just hidden under all them layers-
Bendy Eyes (EJ)
Referring to Bendy and the Ink Machine
Since the liquid coming out of his eye sockets looks like ink
Wine God (Kagekao)
Villain (Dark Link)
In the game, Dark Link is one of the characters you fight in the Water Temple
Plamt (Doll Maker)
His first name is “Vine”
King of Twinks (Jason)
The ultimate twink
Adopts twinks as his kids
Mono IT (L. Jack) ; Drag IT (L. Jill)
IT as in Pennywise the clown
Mono(chrome)
Drag, as in dressing/being in drag
Circus music (Candy Cane)
Sock boi (Puppeteer)
Referring to sock puppets
No friends lol (Nathan)
He’s a “nobody” so he has no friends
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Divider Creds: Sister-Lucifer
Header Creds: ME!!!
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