How you won't you'll find me during my mini hiatus from writing, drawing, and fandoms in general.
Being unable to finish projects, being unhappy with them all, seeing bullying inside the fandoms I liked, as well as things cropping up irl has made me feel incredibly burnt out.
The plan is to stay away from Discord, stop posting to Tumblr and AO3 until August, but may be longer while I recharge my batteries.
Hi all! Back in February, I noticed that within the Jacko fandom in particular, a lot of hate gets thrown around at any authors writing fics that share similarities with other works. As someone who enjoys the Two Cake theory, it's upsetting to see people harass others over this for 'stealing ideas' when it isn't the case at all.
That said, in March, I put forward the idea for a bakery event of sorts, to celebrate the Two Cakes theory boosting fics and their similarities instead. Those taking part voted on the following prompt combination: Age Difference x Bakery AU x Anniversary.
Below are the fics everyone has written based on the prompt above. Enjoy the different cakes that the bakers have taken the time to make!
Disclaimer: Some fics contain explicit material; viewer discretion is advised.
Cakes: Fics with a word count above 750 words
Sweet Escape | @foxtufts
🍰 Synopsis: You discover your husband is cheating on you, and on your anniversary, no less. Luckily for you, Cook becomes the distraction that you didn't know you needed while working at your family-owned bakery.
Eggs | @madkingcrowley
🍰 Synopsis: Remmick told you that he hadn't eaten real food in decades if not centuries. You decided to treat him.
If It Feels Good, Then It Can't Be Bad | @sinfulteeth
🍰 Synopsis: Your one year anniversary of sleeping with your dad’s best friend just so happens to fall during the same time as you visiting home on spring break, with the house all to yourself, so why not celebrate together?
Burnt Sugar | @weavingduck
🍰 Synopsis: Patrick Sumner drifts into Hull about a month before the Volunteer sails for the Arctic - just long enough to form a routine. Across the apothecary on Clifford Street, he finds himself repeatedly drawn to a small bakery that refuses to feel temporary. He tells himself it is nothing, a distraction to pass the time, a habit he will abandon easily. But on the night before he is set to depart for the waters of the North Sea, he finally stops pretending he can leave unchanged without acknowledging this unintentional constant.
Something Sweet To Cover Rot | @lulaaaaaaw
🍰 Synopsis: Remmick has held you captive for a year. for you it’s a nightmare, for him it’s an anniversary of your love.
Night Out | @iceemochaa
🍰 Synopsis: Your wedding anniversary is today. You suspect your husband has something big planned, considering how long you’ve been with him. But things don’t always go the way it should, and you end up spending it with someone else.
Tier After Year | @spikedfearn
🍰 Synopsis: When you show up at the bakery after hours certain James Cook has forgotten your first anniversary, you’re already halfway to heartbreak. But behind the flour, the bad attitude, and the long day, he’s been planning a surprise of his own — one that turns the empty shop and the flat above it into the hottest, softest night of your relationship.
Cupcakes: Fics with a word count below 750 words
Nobody ended up baking a cupcake so you've got whole cakes to enjoy!
Thank you again to everyone who took part in this! I really appreciate the effort that you've all gone to. Happy International Cake Day, and please, enjoy the fics on offer, and show your support.
Word Count: 8.3k
๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Summary: You discover your husband is cheating on you, and on your anniversary, no less. Luckily for you, Cook becomes the distraction that you didn't know you needed while working at your family-owned bakery.
๋࣭ ⭑⚝ a/n: My submission for the Two Cakes Event today!
๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Warnings: 18+, MDNI, cheating, explicit, angst, hurt/comfort, mommy kink, unprotected sex, p in v, oral (f!receiving), fingering, mutual masturbation, handjob, dry humping, squirting, age gap, teasing, multiple orgasms, creampie, food play if you squint
๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Tags: A big thank you to everyone who joined this event, and for the ones who had to dip out, I still appreciate that you considered it! @madkingcrowley @sinfulteeth @spikedfearn @iceemochaa @weavingduck @lulaaaaaaw @nimisardenter @nekkiotine
He'd forgotten again.
It was your fifth wedding anniversary, and this morning, you woke up to nothing. Not so much as a card awaited you. You had never been one to make a big deal out of your anniversary, but something would have been nice.
However, it wasn't the lack of paper or forgotten discount chocolates that riled you up. No, the cherry on top was his phone's screen lighting up with a new message.
"Just checking we're still on for later? Can't stop thinking about you after the last call <3 xxx"
Try as you might, you couldn't peel your eyes away from the screen. Your husband was still asleep on the sofa from the night before, and the curtain of red mist distorting your vision guides your fingers before you realise what you're doing.
Within moments, you're in the bathroom with the door locked.
After ten minutes, you have managed to shakily open up the camera on your own phone to record the exchange of messages. Two months. Two months' worth of sexting and proof of hour-long calls between your husband and some random woman you haven't even heard of before.
In half an hour, the logical side of your brain has taken over to keep you functioning. It's forwarded pretty damning evidence to your phone, and, quite astonishingly, you find yourself showered, dressed, and driving over to your workplace. It all blurs by so fast that you can't quite remember if you dropped his phone into the recycling or landfill before you slammed the front door shut.
It's only when you step into your family-owned bakery that you dare to even begin to process what has transpired. Bank holiday be damned, you need to be away from him, and maybe take out your frustrations on some dough in the meantime.
Right now, it feels like the only safe space that you have to be alone.
It begins with silent rage, your actions much more heavy-handed and violent than usual. Pots, pans, and utensils go flying as you route through the kitchen. Ingredients get thrown onto the metal counters with enough force that you might have otherwise cringed. Right now, you're deaf to it all below the blood pounding away in your ears.
'Outraged' doesn't begin to cover it. 'Fury' barely scratches the surface, and soon, 'betrayal' is the only shape that insists on fitting. Thank god your parents haven't given you any shares of the business yet for your husband to pillage in an inevitable divorce.
It's still early in the morning when you're assaulting dough for some tarts with your rolling pin. Every 'thwack' of the wood pulls an angry flood of tears closer to the surface, until finally, the dam bursts and you're bracing the counter. You watch, blurry-eyed, as the tears drip onto the tile floor. The silence in the room only serves to amplify your soft hiccupping, and you finally permit the emotions to flow by.
All the years that you've put up with small things that have irritated you, the times that you would concede to the more frequent arguments and try to make amends. It all meant nothing. Whether something has been brewing in the background for a while, or it was just a bad decision on your husband's part, in your heart, you know something had to give. You just hadn't expected it to be like this, not when you had both agreed to break up before hurting the other person.
Fuck him.
It feels like your body is filled with venom, muddying any pleasant memories you had with the sorry excuse for a man. Sure, things hadn't been going spectacularly between you by any means, but you were under the impression that you were working on it. So much for communication.
After a while, your crying tapers off, though you can still feel the sting in your eyes; you're just happy that he wasn't here to have the satisfaction of seeing it. The anger eventually simmers down between working more dough and whipping up different buttercreams without any real need for them.
You're so distracted by it all; the text, what your next steps have to be, what will happen when he finds his phone… Between the thoughts and images flashing in your mind, and the muscle memory of your work keeping you in your own world, you don't even hear the bell of the bakery door.
It's only when you note the cheerful singing sauntering in through the storefront that your whole body freezes. Nobody was supposed to be in today. The sound turns your head at the same time a lively James Cook bursts through the door on a particularly out-of-tune note. He doesn't see you, and for the first time this morning, maybe in a little while if you were to stop to think about it, you smile without forcing it.
His head bobs as he removes his jacket next to a coat rack, a little sway to his step as the lilt to his voice merges into a whistle. You can only let the grin tug at your mouth as you wait for him to notice you.
When he doesn't, you throw a joke over to him to catch his attention. "What's got you so lively this early?" You don't want to admit it, but the first thing to cross your mind is that he must have had a 'lucky' Sunday night.
His entire body flinches as he feigns a heart attack. "Fucking hell!" Cook barks out as he melts against a counter. He pats his chest a couple of times to gather himself with a short laugh. "Shouldn't sneak up on people like that."
His theatrics force an amused exhale from your nose. "I'd hardly call it sneaking." You appreciate that even after everything you heard Cook has been through, he still finds the time to enjoy life. "Did you forget something?"
A confused look pulls at his face as he checks the clock on the wall, then peers around for others. "No, I… Where's everyone else?" He gestures to the empty room while he idly switches out his jacket for an apron hanging on a peg. "I'm finally on time, and everyone else is late."
You set your utensil onto the counter to brush your hands clean on your apron, throwing him a raised brow. "It's a bank holiday, Cook." You stopped calling him James long ago, back when he would make a point of not responding to anything but 'Cook'.
Cook only stares as he heads towards the sink to wash up, not believing you. "…Nah, that's next week, innit."
You don't blame him for not realising, you know you've done the same once or twice when you were his age. "Does it look like that's right?" Your hand finds its way to your hip as you wait for him to realise.
He pauses as he lets the warm water run over his hands, watching you until finally there's a soft sigh and a murmured response to match. "…Fuck's sake."
His response makes you feel bad for him, but you're positive that everyone was reminded of it on Friday. "Go home, Cook. Enjoy your day off."
There are a few beats of nothing but the sound of running water, then Cook finally takes the soap to lather his hands as usual. You assume he's thinking about what to do with his day off until he finally shakes his head 'no'. "Nah, sod that." The reaction makes your brows pinch, and you can't see his expression as he rinses off the suds. "The one time I'm in early? I'm makin' it count."
You frown at that. He's stubborn, and you know your parents haven't agreed to pay for overtime. "Cook, you really shouldn't be working today."
He only shrugs as he dries his hands with a towel, turning to face you with challenging eyes. "Well, hang on, why are you in then?"
You stammer for an excuse; the question shouldn't have thrown you, but it does entirely. "I… needed a distraction."
Intrigued, Cook's eyes narrow as he sets the apron to the side. His lips spread into a teasing grin, and he leans his forearms onto the island between you both. "So you chose work?"
Unsure what else to say, you look away from him as you fold your arms for some comfort. "Didn't really have much of a choice. It's helping." God, you don't want to think about it in front of him. You can already feel the prickle of tears threaten to make you misty-eyed.
Cook notices it. He's always noticed when something bothers you. His stare flickers over you before he speaks up with a softer tone. It doesn't sound teasing this time; it comes out as genuinely concerned for you. "No offence, but it don't look like it's helped much."
Your hands tighten around your upper arms, and instead of making an excuse, your voice cracks with the truth. "Yeah, well, it's hard to move past your husband cheating on your anniversary."
Cook would have done a double-take if his eyes weren't already glued to you. Any hint of his previous upbeat mood drains from his face as it seems to darken. "Seriously? Is he thick?"
The answer is clearly rhetorical, and you only have it in you to offer up a shrug.
He slowly inhales, as if he can't fully absorb what you've said, or he's contemplating his words carefully. "Well, I'll tell you one thing right now-" Cook stands more upright as he shakes his head with disbelief, leaning on the island with his palms. "-He's a fuckin' idiot, and you're way too good for him anyway."
A forced laugh escapes you. "I appreciate you trying to be nice, Cook."
"I mean it." You can hear Cook shuffle as he swallows the dryness in his throat. "He's proper punchin' above his weight with you." Your smile falters at how gentle Cook's voice gets. It's as if he didn't want you to hear. You look back over, expecting him to be averting his gaze, but he's still staring right at you.
For whatever reason, the intensity of it makes a subtle warmth rise to your cheeks, and your voice shrinks. "It's fine."
Cook only scoffs at the word like he wants you to really believe what he's saying. "It's not fine, love. He's got a stunner like you, and he's got the cheek to fuck someone else?" It's a harsh slice of reality, more so than a hurtful reminder.
You let his words settle before you bring up the irony of them; you aren't entirely sure why you do it. "…I seem to recall the stories of your own escapades, Cook."
He's quieter then, shifting his weight on the spot as he thinks. "Those were different."
You give a small, challenging look.
It pulls a more sheepish grin from Cook. "They were. I was just a young lad, weren't I? Didn't know any better."
The silliness of it has you rolling your eyes. "You're still young."
"Not that much younger than you…" The way he says it almost implies something that goes unsaid. How old was he, again? In truth, you aren't entirely sure; he'd been working here a long while, but you don't think you've ever asked. You aren't going to push on it, and when Cook continues, it's clear that you don't need to. "If I had a girl like you, I'd show you different." Not 'show her' different, 'show you' different.
The room suddenly feels warmer, and you're rather astounded at your ability to keep eye contact with him. "…That's sweet…"
"Well, I ain't tryin' to be 'sweet', am I? I'm tryin' to… tell you that I think you're gorgeous. And I'm glad I'm here to see you." Cook's breathing grows shallower as he presses on, deciding he may as well throw caution to the wind with it now. "And if you'd let me, I'd show you all the ways you're meant to get treated." He knows he's testing his luck, and that he might as well try anyway.
Your lips part with surprise at him, and you catch the way his eyes dart down to your mouth. "Pushing things a little too far, don't you think?" A piece of you feels it necessary to bring it up, another part doesn't want to.
"You've got no idea how far I'd push things." The wanting look he throws your way steals air from your lungs. "Do you think I try and get in early Mondays, or stay late on Thursdays cause I love cleanin' this place?" Cook lets out a staggered sigh, needing you to understand what he's telling you.
But you don't. You look the other way entirely, your mind so used to being slighted and jeered at by your 'other half' that you don't have it in you to truly hear what Cook is saying. "Very funny. If you're staying, at least make yourself useful." You gesture to a nearby broom and choose to ignore him for your own sanity. Instead, you continue to mix the batch of buttercream in front of you, pulsing the mixer to drown out any lingering silence between you.
Cook doesn't move his eyes from you as you block him out. He only runs his tongue over his back teeth in thought; for months, scenarios had played in his head of the two of you alone. Cook had tried so hard to be a better man, to respect your marriage instead of acting on it, but when you look so in need of comfort and reassurance, it's incredibly hard not to act on it.
So, he stops trying.
Why would he when your husband was acting like that? It didn't make sense to Cook to keep trying to be 'nice' about anything anymore, and he can sense that younger, messier mirror of himself beginning to seep through the cracks.
When the mixer jams, you tut and move your things to the island where the manual whisks are kept. It's messier and takes a lot more effort, but you aren't bothered by it even when your fingers get coated in the pink cream. You can hear a broom behind you, but you don't dare to look over to Cook after him saying that. If you were to touch your face, you know it would still feel hot to the touch. Finally, it looks done, and while you stop to slowly bag up the buttercream ready to pipe out, you haven't noticed Cook's eyes on you the entire time.
He's been sweeping the same spot for the past five minutes while he silently watches the way the motions from mixing make your ass and breasts jiggle under your clothes. A faint heat slides down his front; he's never allowed himself to steal a glance at you for too long before now. Not when there was always someone else in here who could file a complaint against him.
But when you're standing there, feet away from him and so unaware, it's impossible not to. He watches as you spoon a little of the icing out of the bowl, assuming that you ignore the sticky mess that gets over your fingers in the process.
You decide to try to break any awkwardness you might have caused as you glance up at Cook with a smile, holding the spoon out to him. In the back of your mind, you wonder if engaging with him is perhaps the wrong decision, but this morning has already muddied all boundaries of what is right or wrong. "Want to try some? It's just vanilla."
"Vanilla's my favourite." Cook snaps out of his daze when you offer the spoon to him, and his fingers flex against his palm as his body moves before he agrees to it.
You peer down to start moving pieces away, expecting him to take the spoon. But you don't feel the spoon slip away from your grip. No, instead, Cook carefully wraps his fingers around your wrist and slides two of your fingers that are coated with icing between his lips. 'Subtle' was never his speciality.
Something hot and electric shoots up your back.
The wet feeling is a complete shock to you, enough to make you gasp as your head whips down to see Cook suck and lick the sugar from your skin. You become breathless from that small motion alone; you haven't been so much as kissed in months, let alone touched. It wasn't for a lack of trying, but your husband seemed to feign tiredness or some headache. This feels like a live wire to your system, and still, you don't pull away from him.
Cook realises it too, and he grins around your fingers as you stare, mouth hanging open at his boldness. A small, strained sound slips out of you as he licks the pads clean, and you eventually try to pull out of him, but the grip on your wrist prevents you. Your eyes soften as you feel a warmth spike in your belly. "Cook…" It comes out sternly, a warning.
You try to convince yourself that somehow you've still misread the situation. When he hums around your fingers before slowly pulling off with an obscene 'pop' sound, it puts a lot of doubts to rest. "You're so sweet."
The ghost of his breath has your other hand gripping the edge of the island for support. "You should stop." Still, he doesn't let go, and you don't pull away again. He just smooths a thumb over your skin as he presses his lips to your wrist.
You don't want him to stop.
When you gasp at the contact, he finally stands upright, slowly pulling your arm behind him so that you're forced to move closer. "'Cause I work for your parents?" You hadn't even considered that aspect of it.
A rush of shame courses through you to admit that it was the last thing on your mind. You try to hiss back under your breath, unsure what else you can say."Because you're in your twenties, Cook."
"So you want me to stop cause I'm in my mid-twenties." Like the way he differentiates it matters at this point. On some level, you suppose it doesn't. Cook gives a cocky smile in a way you just know would make anyone melt. "But not cause you're married, eh?" His smirk looks dangerous, and the question makes your breath hitch. Why hadn't that come into your mind first? You worry that if you take this route, you'll be just as bad as the man that you loathe.
You open your mouth a few times, unsure how to answer him. The truth is, you aren't even entirely sure how you feel about it all right now. Cook follows up with a question as his hand travels up your arm, slow enough to keep you calmer than you ought to be. "Are you leavin' him?"
"Probably." You say it, and realistically, you know you can't stay married to him.
"You deserve better." Cook's teeth grit around the words, and he dares to place his open palm under your jaw to force you to face him. A lightheadedness comes over you as you lean into his touch. "Bet he's not even touched you in weeks." You go silent at the shame creeping through you at how long it's been. Cook's eyes watch you carefully, curiosity tilting his head to you. "No way… Longer?" He knows that he's right when you glance away from him.
It becomes overwhelming as you think of how frustrated you are over the entire thing, and you close your eyes as you feel them begin to well up again. "Shall we fix that then, princess?" Cook's thumb swipes the tear away before it can fall, and as you look back at him with half-lidded eyes, you absorb the closeness of him. His heat radiating from his chest is tangible against your skin, and you decide here that you don't care if needing to be wanted makes you a bad person right now. To hell with it all.
You nod back to Cook, and there's a final push, albeit small, to give him cause to leave. "You can't possibly want me, Cook."
"I think about you all the time." His confession is soft, then he's testing the waters with a slow, meaningful kiss to your lips. Your breath catches at the feel of him; it's careful at first as you reciprocate it, and the misery inside you is lost to a fever that begins to simmer in your stomach. Cook's hand stays planted on the side of your face as his tongue brushes over your lower lip in a silent request for more. You hesitate for a second, but grant him access. When his tongue sweeps over yours, a gentle moan seeps out of him, surprising you both.
It's a noise you haven't heard from your husband for so long, so much so that it pushes you to get Cook to do it again, and you pull back just enough to wrap your lips around the muscle to suckle lightly. A staggered groan crawls out of him, not expecting that from you or the way it sends a pulse to his twitching length. Your hands dare to rest on his chest, then up to either side of his face. You're too lost in the moment at first to notice Cook let his fingers wander down your back, moving lower until he's kneading the fat of your ass through your jeans. He slides his tongue away to pant slowly over your mouth, your lips still touching each other's until he rests his forehead against your own.
Cook can hardly believe it, and it takes a beat longer than he anticipated to think to pull you closer until your hips meet. You know that slick is already gathering in your folds before he takes the plunge to press his strained erection against your thigh. Both of you softly gasp, immediately feeling flush with heat at how real it suddenly feels.
His words are barely a whisper, laced with something needier than you think you've ever heard from somebody before now. "Can you feel how much I want you?" It's your turn to groan at how hard Cook is; his cock practically jumps with excitement against you. Instinctively, you raise your thigh against him until he's burying his face in the crook of your neck. He can't seem to help but drag his cock over your leg and make soft noises of relief into your skin.
Confidence flickers inside you at the breathy noises from Cook; something untapped but still there. You slide a hand from his face to the back of his head, fingers securing themselves in his hair with a steady grip. While your pulse quickens, your other hand moves down to the front of him, replacing your thigh with a squeeze of your palm that knocks a small groan loose from his chest.
As you undo the buttons, then slide down the zip enough to feel more, you gasp a little at the size of him. You think you can feel Cook grin against your neck as his clothed cock twitches against your hand. Despite the surprise being genuine, you play it up for him, making sure he knows exactly what you think as you take a slow gasp against his ear. "Who knew you were so big, Cook… Is this all for me?" You play with the waistband of his underwear, teasing him by pulling and letting go so that it snaps gently against him. Cook lets a thin whine slip as he nods, momentarily lost in the feeling as he grinds against nothing.
A grin plays on your lips when he doesn't respond verbally, and your mind races with what Cook might like. "Use your words for me."
As you try to coax it from him, Cook's breath hitches as you cup him entirely. "Y-Yeah, it's-." Cook isn't entirely sure what sets off the oncoming blush; he had fully intended to take the lead with this, but something about the way you speak to him is doing a number on his senses. "-all yours, god... Gonna give it all to you."
You ignore the ache of your clit to coo sweetly into his ear, emphasising it by tracing back up the outline of his cock with the fingers he'd sucked on. "Good boy." Those two words cut through him in a way he hasn't felt before. Then you're dipping your fingers under the band, and your heart races when you can feel the way his cock throbs hot in your hand. "What do you want, honey?"
A thrill surges through you as Cook's mouth hangs open, unable to think properly; he never planned to act on his desires, and never believed you might actually reciprocate anything he gives. He remembers the night after the first time he met you, alone in his apartment and letting his thoughts wander while he touched himself in the shower.
You note the way his breathing grows strained as you briefly cup his balls, before palming his throbbing length again. The slow way you pump his cock makes his fingers tremble on you, wrenching all of his attention back as he wets his lips, steadying himself enough to answer. "Wanna shag you..."
A small laugh leaves you, under your breath and light. "Obviously." Your fingers in his hair gently pull Cook off of your shoulder, enough to look at his dizzy expression and study his face as you whisper low. "How do you want to fuck me?"
Cook's eyes find yours as you wait, then his hands shoot up to either side of your jaw to claim your lips with his again. It's far more feverish this time, desperate with heavier panting through his nose. You moan quietly into him at the eagerness of your open kiss, then Cook is manoeuvring you to lean against the counter. He reaches behind you to shove utensils and bowls out of the way, getting flour and buttercream on him in the process.
Immediately after, Cook's hands are gripping the backs of your thighs, and you help him hike you up onto the countertop when you see what he's doing. "Like this. Wanna fuck you like this." The thought of several health codes being broken doesn't even cross your radar as Cook pulls your thighs open to slot himself between them.
He's assaulting your neck with greedy kisses and quick sucks, trailing down to your chest as he reaches behind you to untie your apron. "Gonna take my time. Show you exactly how you deserve to be treated." Cook knows that if he doesn't pace himself, he'll be unable to help but spill into his boxers if he gets too excited. He's thought about it far too much to ruin it now.
The promise of it sends a rush of arousal through your body; you can't even remember why you doubted any of this for a moment. You break from each other to remove the apron over your head, and Cook's eyes fall onto your low-cut top straight afterwards. "Been thinkin' of you since I first started here." The truth seeps out of him, sounding too wanting to be anything but honest. The rawness of it is such a refreshing change to you that it takes a moment for you to continue.
You nod to him, finding it easier to forget about the 'shoulds' and 'shouldn'ts' of it all. You reach down to undo the front of your jeans, catching his attention as Cook realises it's actually happening. Lingering shy notes and apprehension lose their grip on you, and a confidence you thought had dwindled is stoked to life. A flame not quite as snuffed out as you had thought. "Take these off." Cook surprises you with how quick he is to obey, sliding his fingers under the denim and stepping back as he peels away the fabric completely.
They hit the floor somewhere, and Cook's fingers graze the hem of your shirt. They slide underneath, pushing your shirt up as his eyes burn a hole into the material. "Can't stop starin' every time you bend over." He leans down to press a kiss to your stomach, then your ribs, muttering as he moves up. "Can't stop thinkin' about these." One hand moves up to grope your breast through your bra, and Cook's stare relaxes at the feeling. "…Thinkin' of how you taste."
"Cook-" It isn't clear if you say it because you want more, or you're just surprised because you never expected to hear him say it. Perhaps both.
He pushes the fabric of your shirt up until your bra is exposed, his eyes become half-lidded at the way your heavier breathing makes them heave. "You gonna let me suck on these, then?" The question forces you to nod, and for a second, his eyes glance to the side. A second later, and Cook is holding the piping bag with buttercream in. You almost ask what he's doing, but his tongue snaking under the band of your bra stops it. Next come his teeth as he pulls the article up until your breasts fall out of the cups.
His mouth is on you in seconds, pushing your breasts together to kiss at the cleavage and then groping one slow and meaningful like he can't believe it's really happening. The thin moan vibrates along your chest as Cook latches onto your nipple, and your lips part as you watch his eyes slip shut. There are a few greedy sucks against your sensitive skin, only for a moment, until he parts to place his palm in the middle of your chest. Before you can get your bearings, a chilled feeling settles over your nipples, and you realise with a flash of warmth on your cheeks that Cook is piping the buttercream in decorative swirls over both of them with a devious grin.
"What are-" Your words are cut short by a drag of Cook's tongue, and at the same time, you feel a slow roll of his hips against your cunt.
The shock pulls a light chuckle from him. "Told you, I love vanilla." He watches you as he licks you clean, or clean enough. There are still thin smears of buttercream by the time he's dragging his lips down your stomach. You flinch with a smile when he nips just below your belly button, then he's looking up to you expectantly. His fingers curl under the lace trim of your panties, causing a beat of silence between you. It mingles with breathing, hanging in the room, and the warm puffs of air you feel against your clothed cunt.
The pause has your brows lightly furrow, and panic tries to creep through your veins when you worry he wants to stop. You sit up enough to lean on your forearms, reminding him that he can back out, despite not wanting it yourself. "It's okay, we can stop."
"Never." His response is immediate. It's impossible to ignore the warmth of his breath against you. "I want to taste you, properly." He isn't scared at all. You realise Cook is waiting for you, for permission.
You give in to him.
"Please."
His eyes widen at that, and he licks his tongue flat against you in a filthy stripe up your soaked underwear. You keen softly at the contact, back arching a little as he sucks at your core through the damp lace. "Cookie!"
After the pet name jumps out of you, he peers up like he either misheard you or can't quite believe it. "You… You've never called me that." Then he's dragging the fabric down slowly, eyes looking glassier at the way your slick clings to the lace. The soft breath that shakes out of him has you clenching around nothing. Cook sees it, eyes completely fixed on you. "Oh… She's needy, huh?"
You clench again and end up shifting on the spot with impatience. "Don't tease me." It isn't said so much as a plea as it is an instruction; that isn't what you need right now.
Cook takes it well; his eyes remain fixed on you as he hooks your thighs over his shoulders. "Yes, mommy." The words knock a gasp loose from your throat seconds before he's licking into you.
Mommy.
It makes your head spin even before he finds your swollen bud, surprisingly quickly. Your hips roll up into Cook's mouth, and an unfettered moan spills out of you; you hadn't meant for it to be so loud, but Cook echoes it with his own hungry groan.
Arousal pools heavily in your lower stomach; you haven't been touched for so long that you almost forgot what this was like. If you could cling to something, you would have. Cook experiments with pressure and his licks, and soon enough, he's pulling needy whines out of you when he hits a rhythm that has your thighs shaking.
"Oh god- Cook, there. There's good-" There's a muffled 'mhmn' as he does as he's told; that's when you think about him calling you Mommy. It has butterflies going through you to think about what exactly Cook might have been fantasising about this whole time. There isn't room for shame in you when you entertain it; you want to see exactly how much Cook likes it. "Being such a good boy for Mommy."
Cook whimpers into your cunt in a messy response, and one of his hands disappears from your view. He shoves his palm against his aching cock, rubbing himself for any friction through his underwear, and the other hand finds yours. You think Cook is just trying to hold your hand until he's moved it to the top of his head. You give a soft noise of recognition as you grip his hair, and Cook's eyes roll into the back of his head at the gesture.
"Oh- You like when Mommy's a little rough with you, honey?" Cook nods as much as he can; his whines are muffled, and his eyes are completely glazed over. He works his tongue on your clit like he'll die without it. You pant out when you sense your climax is already getting close, and you stare completely in awe at how much Cook seems into it. Between the wet sounds against your cunt and his moaning, you don't think you've ever seen someone so eager for you to come.
When it hits you, it's embarrassingly fast. The rush of heat sends you barrelling over the edge as your vision becomes dazed at the edges. You cry out for Cook, and both his hands shoot up to grip the softer parts of your thighs as he eases you through it. The fingers in his hair slide away onto the counter, and Cook slows down with a final swirl of his tongue against you.
As Cook pulls away from you, he's panting hard with a thin string of your slick connecting his lips to you. It should make you cringe, but your eyes are soft on him as he licks his lips. Neither of you says anything, and you think you spy his mouth pull into a sly grin as his index finger brushes over your soaked hole. The careful intrusion makes you gasp, not completely over the waves of your orgasms when he's already beginning to push into your heat.
Pride washes over Cook.
It's only then you realise why Cook looks so smug. "Bet he's never made you come that fast before, eh?" Your stomach drops at the question. He says it coolly, purposely drawing your attention to what you're doing with him, saying it as if it isn't something forbidden. Your brows scrunch, unsure how you can answer that without letting a whine slip. Cook's finger delves inside your walls as he leans over you, resting his other hand on the countertop. "Doubt he's even made you come at all…"
The worst part is that Cook isn't wrong. Not completely. You can't bring yourself to think about all the times you've gone without. After months of coexisting in a dead bedroom. To have so much attention on you for a change makes you look away from Cook. A second finger is suddenly added as he starts to thrust them up against your walls, and a whine catches in your throat at the stretch of it. "Look at me." It isn't demanding, he's asking, not telling you. "I wanna see your face every time you come 'cause of me."
Heat licks underneath your skin with each word, and you helplessly rock your hips against his hand. His mouth parts as his eyes briefly flicker over you, and his fingers curl in just the right spot while he searches for the most sensitive parts of you. The feeling convinces your eyes to find his again, and the way Cook's breath briefly shudders makes you clench around his fingers. A soft, amused sound leaves him when he feels you tighten, and a need for more of him makes you sit up almost completely.
Cook notices your eyes drift to his mouth, and he takes it upon himself to capture yours with his own. You don't care that you can taste yourself; you just want more of whatever Cook has to offer you. When his fingers find a spongy part inside your walls, you gasp around the kiss, letting the sound ease into a needier moan. Cook smirks into you as his movements speed up. "Yeah? There?" Your sounds thin out while he gets bolder, now that he knows where to aim each time. The tension coils inside your stomach, tighter until your head tips back away from him without thinking.
Cook's fingers find the back of your head, easing it forward enough to rest his forehead against yours. "You squirted before?" The bluntness of it has you unable to answer with anything other than a shake of your head. You think you've come close before, but you always assumed it can't happen.
That goes straight to his cock, making it twitch against your thigh from the thought alone. His response is intense, meaning every word of it. "Good. Want you to remember how I make you feel, yeah? Gonna ruin you for anyone else." It's so much all at once for you, intense without any break, and you're feverishly dizzy with it all.
When Cook adds a thumb to your swollen clit, your hips stutter against him, and your hands are gripping any part of him that you can manage. You settle for his shoulders and the nape of his hair, hard enough to make Cook openly moan against your mouth. He can't stop himself from rutting against your thigh at that, and instead of letting him, you reach to push his clothes down and let his cock spring free. The faint slap you hear against Cook's stomach has you leaking at the sheer thought of him.
A groan punches out of Cook when your fingers wrap around his cock. Instead of sliding them over him the way he wants, you tease and play with his head so much that Cook's hips are starting to stutter. Enough to make him jerk and not nearly enough of what he needs. You idly do it as you focus on the way he thrusts his digits into you, working you over until you're writhing against him.
Just then, an unwelcome sound greets the room. Both of you freeze at the sound of your phone ringing out on the counter. You both know what's happening before either of you look to see your husband's name on the screen. Cook turns your head back to him before you realise you looked away, and it helps to douse panic in you. The phone stops, but Cook's features look darker as the sound begins to ring again. "Shall we answer?" Your mouth falls open at the suggestion, and while you should feel sick at the thought, the petty side to you relishes it instead.
When you nod, Cook raises a brow and reaches over to tap the screen, never taking his fingers out of you while he answers. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears when Cook returns to you, nibbling your earlobe and sounding huskier with his suggestion. "Let him hear what he's missed out on, 'cause he fucked up." Cook's teeth play with the shell of your ear as he continues plunging his fingers into you, and a gentle moan slips out from you. "There we go, tell him how good I make you feel." You can hear a crazed shout of your name on the phone, but you ignore it, nodding and focusing on how close to your climax.
"Gonna come for me, love?" His words are syrupy in your ear, loud enough for your husband to hear, and somehow, it helps you know that you will again. "C'mon, just for me… There we go."
"Yes- Yes, Cook- I'm coming-" You pant and somehow you remember to look at him as your heat coils impossibly tight around him. Until it snaps and your walls rhythmically clamp around his fingers with a cry of his name. Cook's laugh is dark as his eyes glance over to your phone, not bothering to hang up.
Neither of you grants him enough decency to care anyway. He doesn't deserve any.
His teeth bare as he watches you come undone again, eating up the sight of you and slowing his fingers down to a stop. "So fuckin' pretty when you come for me." You watch the blush deepen on his face, and you realise that your hand stopped moving on him. It's only when Cook is thrusting his cock up into your hand that you remember.
You manage to gather yourself, still wanting to feel him inside you. "You're a naughty boy, talking to me like that, Cook." You hardly recognise your voice, rougher around the edges and already strained. So, you end up letting go of him to pull at his wrist until his fingers slip out of you. "Want you inside me, Cook. Need you to fuck me." The phone might as well be miles away; you don't care enough to check if the call has stopped.
Cook's fingers retract from you, shaking as he grips himself to hurriedly line up his head with your hole. His breath stutters at the contact, temporarily making him lose his concentration. "And… Oh- You're proper filthy, lettin' me do this... fuck-" His cock twitches as it catches against your entrance, and it takes everything to stop hips snapping up into you.
That pulls an impish look of your own to him, and you take care to whisper against his open mouth. "Yeah? You're the one who's been having dirty thoughts about mommy."
Cook tenses at the suggestion, cock heavy between his legs and bobbing against you in response. "Shit-" He doesn't deny it, and your eyes find his as he slowly pushes into you. Cook grips your hips tightly, and you can feel his own begin to shake with excitement as the crown of him inches into you.
The only noise in here is the sharp, stunted way you both gasp as he sinks his cock into you. "Oh god-" The stretch is so intense that you feel it through your entire body, choking the air from you as the ease into you forces you to accommodate him.
When Cook finally slides in completely, he falls forward to bury his face in the crook of your neck. He doesn't move yet, letting you get used to him as he clings to the back of your shirt with one hand. "I tried not to." His cock twitches inside you enough that it draws a sharp cry from both of you, and desperation clings to his words in a way so unfamiliar to you that your head swims with it. "Tried not to think about you." You can't tell if that's a lie, but you don't care at this point; knowing Cook, it was likely a mix.
"I doubt that…" You tease Cook as you reach for the back of his head to pull him back. He moves with your grip until you're able to move your fingers under his jaw, pressing your thumb down to his lower lip as your eyes search his face. "…I bet you couldn't keep your hands off your cock."
You watch his brows furrow, struggling to keep a hold on himself. You keep your voice low, suggestive as you clench around him on purpose. "Isn't that right, Cookie?" His hips snap up into you instinctively with that, and something needy hitches in your throat.
His answer fumbles out of him far too quickly, thrusting up into you as he whines. "Y..Yes."
It's only then that he sets a pace for you both, fast enough that you almost can't follow him up, and are forced to let him fuck into you as he pleases. Still, you manage another tease through short gasps. "Yes- What?" Your heart beats wildly in your chest at the way Cook falls apart for you, and you gladly soak up the pieces.
"Yes, mommy." The shame of having the word pulled from his lips goes straight to his cock, and he can only let the snap of his hips turn brutal while he fights against a raspy groan.
Whether or not it's from his fingers already making deft work of you, you can feel the tight heat flood your stomach. Every time Cook stuffs himself into your cunt, you can feel yourself tighten a little more until a strange sensation takes over you.
The brutal drag of his cock forces you to the edge again. Except this time, there's something different about it. Cook feels it too, and he watches you intently as he forces your consciousness to focus entirely on every plunge of his hips. "Oh, you're- You're close, aren't you? Go on, then. Soak this cock." You can only moan back as one particular thrust against your walls makes you see white. Suddenly, your walls are tightening down around him, and without warning, you squirt over Cook with a drawn-out groan of his name.
"Yeah, fuckin' yeah, that's it." His voice is hazier, thick with lust when he realises what's happened, and his hips begin to lose their pace with how tightly your walls grip him. "Got you to… make such a mess. Fuck-" Cook is panting against you hard as he chases his own climax, and you watch as his brows scrunch up with need. "-F-Fuck, play with my balls- Grab them-" The request takes you by surprise, but you groggily adhere to it and slide your hand down to cup him, then gently roll them in your hand. It rips a staggered whimper from Cook, and he buries his face into your neck as his hips stutter against you.
No sooner have you grabbed him, does he give a final, long roll of his hip as he releases hot and fast into you. Cook stumbles a little as his palms find the counter for support. In the back of your mind, you mentally thank yourself for taking contraception.
You both remain like that, panting and occasionally twitching against the other in your afterglow as Cook softens. "So… How long have you had a little crush on me, Cook?"
Cook's scoff is gentle. "It's not some daft crush. I've liked girls before, but not like this… Not the way I want you." That surprises you, and you aren't in the headspace to truly think about it all yet.
"Is that right?" You raise a brow, and some part of you dares to be hopeful, even if it's misplaced.
Cook rests his forehead on yours as he smiles, muttering words verging on nonsense. "The way you tell me when I've done a good job. When you stand so close, I can feel how warm you are. Fuck, even your laugh… I- " He swallows down whatever words threatening to come out. "...It's not just a crush."
Your cheeks heat, the reality of everything not hitting you yet. So, you decide to put a pin in it for now. "Okay... Later, okay?" He nods to you, feeling the space for a conversation at a later point.
When you both eventually look over to your phone, you can see that the call has ended, although you have no idea how long your husband listened in for. You hope it causes him even a fraction of what you felt this morning.
As Cook follows your gaze, the two of you exchange a soft laughter. Consequences be damned, you feel lighter for it. He looks to you, seemingly impressed. "Didn't think you'd answer the call."
"He deserved it." You shift your hips around Cook, and he slowly pulls out of you with a soft groan at the way his spend is already dripping down your thighs. "C'mon, we should clean up and bleach the hell out of this place." He grins back as he looks for some.
When you open your phone, there's a long wall of text that you don't bother reading. You catch glimpses of words: 'sorry', 'divorce?', 'never', but it doesn't matter to you. Not in this moment, and you doubt it will anymore.
All you write back is, 'If it wasn't clear enough from your texts with her, I hope it cleared things up over the phone. We're getting a divorce. Don't be in the house when I'm back.'
Masterlist
AO3 Link
Pairing: Remmick x Paddy Mayne
7.4k Word
๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Summary: Remmick has to share a tent with Paddy because of his own mistake. Paddy is unhappy about it, and things get heated until a line is crossed.
๋࣭ ⭑⚝ a/n: This one has been sitting on my WIP pile for a while. Happy Birthday @keeperskey!
Tags/Warnings: MDNI, 18+ AU, Anal, Biting, Belly Bulge, Blood Drinking, Creampie, Cum Eating, Delayed Orgasms, Dry Humping, Edging, Hate Sex, Knotting, Light Choking, Light Spanking, Multiple Orgasms, Monster Sex, Overstimulation, Oneshot, P in A, Premature Ejaculation, Rimming, Teasing, Remmick is a Switch, Slight PowerBottom!Paddy, Slight Brat!Paddy
@gravecleric0900
Two little words.
"Make me."
That was all it took for things to snap.
Resources are in short supply after a recent 'complete and utter fuck-up', as Paddy had so delicately put it.
Remmick couldn't admit to it being his fault. Instead, he does what he does best: feigning ignorance as to how multiple tents, weapons, and at least one of the better vehicles had been lost to a fiery blaze, simultaneously giving away their position. Men were now forced to share more than they already were, resulting in Remmick currently trying to put together a camp cot before he's spotted. Unfortunately for him, that wouldn't be the case.
"Care to explain how a leech has made its way into my tent?" Paddy's footsteps grind to a halt after walking through the tarp to see Remmick putting the bed together. The sudden cut through the silence doesn't jar Remmick, he already heard him approach the tent from halfway across the camp. He isn't sure how he'd come to recognise his paces so easily before any of the other's.
"No threshold." Remmick offers up some sarcasm as he otherwise ignores the question.
Paddy raises a brow as he notes the extra blankets on the floor, and he lets out a sharp exhale that almost resembles a laugh. "You can tear all that down, right now."
Remmick somewhat turns to him from the floor; his stomach is uneasy with how poorly this is already going, as expected. He resists the urge to roll his eyes. "I don't have a tent right now."
It doesn't exactly come across as an issue to Paddy right now. "It's dark out, you don't need one."
"I will, come mornin'." There's a 'click' as Remmick puts a piece in place; he attempts to hold his own. "Stirling said-"
Paddy is already a few feet closer with a pointed finger in Remmick's face, irritated with being undermined. "I don't give a fuck what he said, I'm tellin' you to leave."
The invasion of space isn't appreciated, and he doesn't budge at the instruction. "It ain't yours, technically." He's increasingly past caring as he finishes assembling the cot, though some piece of him does take a twisted pleasure in seeing Paddy get rattled. "So, you just gotta put up with me till we get more."
There's a beat of dead air before Paddy shakes his head. Out of everyone else, he can't believe he has to be lumbered with Remmick. "Have you been sent here to personally test my mental resolve or somethin'?"
Remmick can only roll his eyes as he stands up with a practised shrug. "Do you think I'd be wastin' time with you if I had the option?" Internally, he knows that perhaps he would.
Paddy steps forward to him, unrelenting on the matter. "I am swiftly runnin' out of patience for you."
"That's a laugh." Remmick actually does; it's a scoff under his breath at how difficult Paddy is being.
"Sorry?" Paddy blinks at him, challenging and leaning forward like he hasn't heard him correctly.
"Reckon you haven't got 'patience' for anyone." Remmick's voice fades into a mumble. "I can't stand you."
Paddy's hands land at his hips, knowing exactly what he muttered. "Want to speak up, tick?"
"I said I can't stand you." Remmick lets a growl slip by mistake, and the way his top lip curls around his snarl catches Paddy's attention.
"Don't growl at me like that, fuckin' parasite. This entire situation is 'cause of you."
The bossy tone and insults drain Remmick of his patience. "Shut it."
The defiance tears away Paddy's. "Make me."
Remmick acts before he thinks, already shoving Paddy into a small table before he realises what he's done. It's enough that Paddy actually stumbles, causing clutter tumbling off the table in the process. "Shit… Paddy, I-I didn't-"
Paddy's eyes go wild as he retaliates, pushing off from the table to swing at Remmick. The vampire dodges the first blow, but not the second one, as Paddy's fist connects with his face. A grunt punches out of Remmick as he pushes back, and in a matter of moments, both men are grappling in a flurry of blows and near misses of bites from both parties.
When Paddy sweeps the back of Remmick's leg, he drops to the floor, pulling Paddy down with him with a harsh thud. Paddy lands with his legs straddling Remmick's waist, his hands immediately finding the vampire's throat to tightly wrap his fingers around it. They glare at each other, marked and scuffed; Remmick's nostrils flare with the sudden scent of iron in the air from the other's nose.
Stealthy asset that the SAS had found or some sideshow pet be damned, Paddy had had enough of him. His fingers tighten enough to bruise, and Remmick can only thrash back as Paddy actively tries to choke him out.
Remmick's breath would have hitched at the contact if he could get any air. The unfamiliar feeling of skin against his makes him shiver. He doesn't need as much oxygen as Paddy does, but the sudden withdrawal makes him feel floaty all the same. Remmick fights to keep the air in his lungs, but the way he struggles against Paddy makes him painfully aware of how the other's ass is rubbing against him. His eyes flicker with panic as he feels his cock start to stir, and he grits his teeth as long as he can, until a faint moan slips out of him without his permission.
Paddy knows that look; it isn't a look of something that's hurt, it's the look of someone, or something, that's scared to get caught. When Remmick moans, Paddy thinks he mishears him at first, but the unmistakable feeling of twitching against his ass makes his brows crease.
"Little freak..." His own voice sounds thinner in the air. The slow jerk against his ass completely takes him off guard, enough to let up on Remmick's throat.
Remmick swallows air the moment he's given the chance. "Piss off." He cringes at the way he sounds; his weak response couldn't sound less intimidating if he had actually tried.
A taunting smirk tugs at Paddy's mouth as he leans down to Remmick. "You like that? Did I finally find a way to shut you up?" As if testing it, Paddy's fingers tighten around him again as he slowly grinds his ass against Remmick. His own breath catches as he feels Remmick's length stiffen underneath him, and he watches as the other's eyes become half-lidded in response.
Something shifts inside Paddy then; still full to the brim with what he labelled early on as loathing for Remmick, but an unwelcome heat stirs in his stomach in response. Whether shame or the pressure on Remmick's neck causes a red to sweep over his face, Paddy watches with intrigue.
The other finally manages to yank at Paddy's wrists, hard enough to rip them away from his neck. The air rushes back into Remmick's lungs fully with a sharp inhale. Even if he knows he doesn't need much air, it still hurts all the same.
Remmick shoves at Paddy, but instead of getting him to fall off, the other remains firmly planted in Remmick's lap. He tries to sound stern more than just embarrassed, but he was already so touch-starved that his need is bleeding into his words. "Ain't funny, Paddy."
"You're so fuckin' pent up. Is that why you're constantly makin' messes?" Paddy's voice lowers, and Remmick can't take how close he is to Paddy, particularly as Paddy grinds slow circles into his erection. "'Cause you just need someone to make one outta you?"
Remmick doesn't mean to writhe underneath him, but it feels good. He's not oblivious to the fact that Paddy is handsome; he's caught glimpses of him around camp or on missions, ones that perhaps lasted a little too long. But this is different; it's reciprocated attention, even if it's only a cruel joke.
Paddy's voice is lower, more suggestive, and with the promise to back up whatever comes next. "Look at you, desperate little thing…"
A groan cracks in the back of Remmick's throat at the way the words hold a husky edge. His clothed erection jerks until the outline is straining against the fabric, and he has to look away because he knows that Paddy is right. He can't remember the last time anyone touched him, not just in an intimate setting, but in any real regard. The refusal to verbally acknowledge it has Remmick glare at nothing in particular as he tries to shove Paddy again, weaker this time and to no avail.
Paddy's hands grab Remmick's wrists, pinning them to the ground on either side of his head as his smirk grows. Ordinarily, Remmick would be able to stop it, but not regularly feeding has really put a damper on his strength, and Paddy knows it. If he had to wager, it's likely what caused Remmick to fumble his way into exploding resources in the first instance.
He gets in Remmick's face, who's obviously struggling to get his breathing under control even after Paddy let go of his throat. He tilts his head mockingly, and when he presses his fingers into Remmick's palms, he thinks he spies the nails begin to grow in response.
Paddy doesn't stop grinding down against Remmick, who, no matter what he tries to distract himself with, can't stop thinking about the heavy stiffness between his legs. Remmick's teeth clench as he bucks his hips up against Paddy, who only holds the same arrogant look as he leans down. A tickle of air rolls over Remmick's lips, and he closes his eyes instinctively when he expects Paddy to kiss him.
Nothing comes into contact with his lips, and Remmick peeks, unsure whether to be disappointed. There's only a soft taunt he can taste less than an inch over his mouth. "What, no comeback? Did you really think I was about to kiss you?" He doesn't question why it makes him whine with desperation, only that it makes him hot all over until he can feel the slick of pre-cum gather in his boxers.
Remmick's brows knit together as he forces himself to shake his head 'no'. A mortified feeling drops in his stomach as he realises that he's already seconds away from toppling over the edge. "S-Shit… I'm.." His eyes snap shut again as he stifles his moans, getting ready for the brutal words that are bound to come after. But they don't. Remmick's orgasm is cut short when Paddy's hips lift off him altogether, quick enough to make a whine fall out of his parted mouth in protest.
His eyes shoot back open to see Paddy raised onto his knees to stop giving Remmick's cock any attention. The twitch of Paddy's length against the confines of his trousers has Remmick's jaw go slack.
"Were you about to come?" Paddy's brow is raised with accusation, amused as the confusion spreads over Remmick's features. His mouth presses into a thin line as he swallows. He wants to lie and shake his head so badly, but the small wet spot on the front of his trousers proves otherwise. His stomach lurches as he nods, unable to look Paddy in the eye.
There's a light huff from the man above, and Remmick expects that to be the end of whatever this is. But instead, a hand lets go of his wrist to unbutton the fly to his trousers.
Paddy's eyes narrow, seeing the wet patch as he moves his hand. "God, you're pathetic." Something in him takes great delight in watching Remmick struggle like this. At least, that's what he tells himself; that's all it is, some sadistic itch being scratched.
"Fuck you." Remmick feels his hackles rise when he bites back defensively, regardless of whether he believes the words. He pretends like he hates the way the insult makes his cock jump in Paddy's hand. For now, Remmick can find escape by lying to himself; it's just the attention doing it to him, nothing more.
"Would you like that, little bat?" There's a lilt to Paddy's question as he lets go to push two fingers up into Remmick's mouth. His lips, swollen from biting them in an effort to stay quiet, part obediently for Paddy. A muffled noise sounds out around his fingers, and the suckling against them makes Paddy's cock strain in his underwear. "Want me to fuck myself on your cock?"
Remmick's ears burn at how freely the question enters the space between them. He stares blankly until he can get his neck to work, nodding with a muffled 'mhmph' against Paddy's tongue at the thought.
Paddy smirks, thrusting the coated digits in and out of Remmick's lips as though it were his hole. He sighs gently at the way Remmick coats his fingers without needing to be told, using little kitten licks in between. "Who knew you could be a good pet?"
With his hands free, Remmick's hand grasps Paddy's knees, and they both glance down at the tips of his claws that have made an appearance. Paddy's gaze lingers on them as he begins to remove his trousers with his other hand. "I heard other parts pop out when your kind get pent up enough…"
The response is so thin that Paddy almost misses it. "…Breedin'." Remmick doesn't elaborate, and there's only a hesitant nod.
Paddy pulls his coated digits from Remmick's mouth, noting the way his lips try to follow for a moment. His eyes slip shut as he brushes the wet fingers over his own puckered hole. Taking no time to tease himself, he leans forward to rest a hand on Remmick's chest as he eases himself open. Remmick's jaw goes slack again as he watches, his own hand moving to idly wrap around his length at the sight. There's a soft noise from Paddy as he finds a spot along his walls that makes his cock jump in response, and Remmick can feel drool beginning to gather at the corners of his mouth. "You think I haven't noticed you lookin' at me around camp?" Never mind all the times Paddy has been glancing enough to notice in the first place.
Remmick has the gall to deny it without a second thought. "I-I haven't-"
Paddy is in Remmick's face straight away, teeth fierce and gritted with challenge. "No? No sly glances while you're out countin' stock? When I'm tryin' to read?" His voice lowers as he presses his lips to the shell of Remmick's ear, really wanting the vampire to take note of how aware he is. "No spyin' when I'm bathin'?" He grunts when he feels ready to remove his fingers, unable to admit out loud that he's gone too long without having someone inside him.
Remmick's words get stuck in his throat, unable to escape the awful reality that he's been caught. He hadn't even realised that he had made watching Paddy such a habit, and a cold feeling rushes behind his knees, trapped under the smug leer of Paddy Mayne. Despite the shock, Remmick's hand glides quicker over his cock until he's weeping from the tip again. Something about Paddy knowing about all the stolen glances and using it against him, lights a fire in his belly.
When Remmick's brows tightly gather, Paddy is quick to grab his wrist and wrench it away. It tears a frustrated growl from Remmick's throat, and before he knows what stops him from hitting his peak for a second time, Paddy has both his wrists firmly pinned above his head again.
With Remmick restrained, Paddy nips the shell of his ear, hard. "Told you not to growl at me." The sudden pain and the threat of it go straight to Remmick's cock. To his own shame, it jerks against Paddy's so much that he can't stop himself from rolling his hips up for any sort of friction.
Remmick's voice becomes frayed with impatience, and when Paddy moves back away from his ear, he's met with a pair of red eyes. "Then fuck me already."
The hungry stare strokes Paddy's ego and dares him to push the other even more. His eyes watch Remmick's face, giving an experimental grind of his hips so that their cocks drag across one another. "Think I'll hold off a little longer."
There's a bite to Remmick's voice at the movement, and he's clearly trying to hold back any semblance of another growl. "Paddy…"
"Tell me how much you want it." It's clear it isn't up for discussion.
Yet Remmick still avoids it, knowing he won't be able to stop if pushed. "You can see I-."
As if reading his mind, Paddy's words are against Remmick's lips, hot and heavy as he enunciates each one with a meaningful thrust of his twitching cock against Remmick's. "Fuckin'. Beg. For it."
Remmick whines. The sound parts his mouth open completely, enough for Paddy to see the fangs that have slipped out now. Those words do a number on him, and he struggles against Paddy's grip as he feels himself unable to keep his claws in check as they grow. Finally, he relents to it, submitting to what he wants over any humiliation. His face burns as he pleads; wet in his mouth, drooling and unable to think of anything else at all. "Please. I- I need to be inside you. I can't… Gods, I can't think- Need to feel how tight you are. Please, Paddy-" He hiccups through his panting, frustrated to the point where he squeezes his eyes shut in fear that he'll cry.
Paddy watches him as heat sweeps under his skin, satisfied with the way Remmick sounds. He momentarily takes pity on him enough to capture his lips with his own with a light grunt. It's been so long since Remmick has had anyone do it that his voice cracks with a whimper.
The kiss ends before Remmick's brain thinks to even reciprocate it, and Paddy's teeth only scrape his bottom lip for a second before they're gone again. There's a quick swipe of Paddy's fingers to gather the drool clinging to Remmick's chin, followed by a wet feeling coating over his length. "Y'always this fuckin' needy?" Remmick's eyes crack open at the loss, and then he's watching Paddy grin as he lines himself up with the flushed tip of Remmick's cock.
Any fragment of a snarky reply disappears from Remmick's head, nodding dumbly instead.
Remmick's brow draws up together, unaware for a beat longer than he should have been that Paddy isn't even holding his wrists anymore. When Paddy sighs softly with the immediate stretch, Remmick is trembling underneath him. It takes everything in him not to lift his hips up in response to the tight heat sinking onto his cock. Instead, Remmick grips onto Paddy's hips. He doesn't mean for his claws to nip at the skin, but at this point, he's so worked up that he doesn't have it in him to care.
The way Paddy stuffs Remmick inside him shakes a breath loose from them both, already feeling the thickness knock against delicate parts of him until he's right up to the hilt. He doesn't have it in him to admit how good it feels or how much he needed it, stubborn enough not to let Remmick have the satisfaction. Not while he adjusts to the size of him; it's more than Paddy expected.
When Remmick is flush to Paddy's ass, his eyes roll up in his head. From the way he can hear the other's pulse race, he knows how much he's enjoying it already, even if he isn't saying it. That pulls a grin from Remmick for the first time in a while, and he decides to lean into the way Paddy puts on a front. "C'mon, then. Fuck me like you hate me."
Paddy's expression falters with that as he raises his hips to set up a slow rhythm. The response is so abrupt that he surprises himself. "Course I hate you." Though the second he glances down to Remmick, he isn't entirely certain if he means it in the moment. A shiver runs through Paddy at the fullness as he moves, and he takes his own throbbing cock into his hands as he rides Remmick at a faster pace.
The cracks in Paddy's facade begin to chip away with every knock searching for his prostate, unknowingly revealing more of his pleasure to Remmick. When he finds it, Paddy's gasp lets him know where to hit each time.
Remmick's eyes glint with something caught between mischief and awe, feeling himself jerk inside and using his grip on Paddy's hips to help bounce him on his cock. "Shit- There we go, use me."
Paddy does exactly that; he moves his hips so that every snap of them forces Remmick's leaking tip into the same spot each time, until his own breaths unravel into panting. He spots the way Remmick watches him; colour heavy in his face and seemingly unable to take his eyes off him, his jaw twitching in time with his cock. Hungry.
A string of moans works their way out of Remmick, not concerned at how loud he may be getting as he feels his climax building with each flex of his stomach. Paddy licks his lips as he spots it, selfishly not wanting Remmick to go soft before he can reach his own release. He strokes himself desperately in the hope of finishing before facing disappointment. "Don't come."
Remmick's eyes narrow to Paddy, running his tongue over his fangs at the sight in front of him and the thin line of blood that's still below his nose. "Lemme bite you." He offers up the impish compromise as if a taste of blood could slow him down.
Paddy shakes his head with a scoff; the way lust fogs up his mind prevents any clever retort. "Fuck off, bat."
A sharp laugh punches out of Remmick's throat as he grips Paddy's hips harder, forcing him to stop altogether as he wills his own hips to stop grinding up. "Let me." He's almost surprised by his ability to pause, but the potential for blood gives him the power to ignore the angry whine from Paddy. "Or I'll-" He twists his expression to make a show of it how close he is, anything for an opportunity to get a taste.
There's a twitch inside Paddy, and between the need to feel more and the thought of losing some blood to keep it going is enough to sway him. Without thinking, Paddy's eyes glance away as he tilts his head, extending his neck for the other's fangs.
Remmick's fangs drip at the sight of it; he hadn't thought he would get the reaction, and he takes advantage of the silent invitation without question. He makes Paddy sink back down onto him as he sits up, and a clawed hand seizes the back of Paddy's hair to keep him locked in that position. In an instant, Remmick's teeth slip into Paddy's neck with a wet crunch.
The other gasps through his teeth at the cold sting, slowly relaxing into it as he continues to move his hips. Remmick's gurgled sound rings in Paddy's ears; it shouldn't make his cock jump, but the raw edge of it does. Especially as Remmick's hands move down Paddy's back until both slide over his ass, pressing his fingers to squeeze the muscle there. Remmick's muffled chuckle is dark as he feeds, light-headed at the taste gushing into his mouth. Through a mix of rolling Paddy down onto his cock and matching with sharper, heavier thrusts up that he can manage. He doesn't unlatch his fangs even as he finally hits his climax, spilling into Paddy with a long, drawn-out moan.
Air is forced into Paddy's lungs from the sudden feeling of Remmick hitting his peak minutes before he can reach his own. He's betrayed and angry for believing giving him some blood would stave it off for longer. But when Remmick's hands don't stop him from moving on his cock, his brows pinch with confusion. Remmick is still rock-hard inside him, and if anything, he might be more so.
There are small gulps in Paddy's ear until Remmick slowly retracts his bloodied fangs from his neck. Once he's dragged his tongue over the fresh wound, his whisper is more menacing. "All that teasin' of me… Did you have your fun, dove?" A harsh slap to Paddy's ass, followed by a slow massage of Remmick's hand that makes him keen. His cock pulses at Remmick's breathy voice in his ear. "Ready for mine?" Panic isn't often something Paddy is faced with, but he feels it then, trying to crawl up his spine. By the time it reaches his skull, his mind is too fuzzy to recognise it as anything other than excitement.
Paddy can't help it; the constant press of Remmick's head against his sensitive walls, pushing him closer to the edge and making him more pliant than he wants to be. A rush of arousal hits Paddy in the gut, and he only nods, half-lidded instead of anything verbal as he begins to lose his control.
There's a dark snap inside of Remmick, and a surge of something cruel and possessive sweeps through him when he feels Paddy clench around him. Before Paddy can protest, Remmick is moving him onto his back without pulling out, still hard and throbbing inside for more.
"I'm close." Paddy manages to rasp out, still stroking himself until Remmick grabs his wrist to stop it.
It gets an annoyed huff, but Remmick is bringing Paddy's fingers coated in pre-cum to slide his tongue over them, as he grinds his hips down. "So come then." Paddy's eyes widen at the command, watching the way Remmick sucks his fingers dry with a smirk. He has no idea where this side to Remmick pounced from, unaware that it was lurking somewhere to begin with, but with the last of his resilience crumbling away, he doesn't care.
Paddy's back arches as Remmick thrusts relentlessly into him, and he matches every one of them until he at last hits his peak with a repressed cry. There's a pleased rumble in Remmick's chest as Paddy's cock jumps, then releases hard over his stomach and chest. His cock twitches wildly when Remmick doesn't slow down. If anything, he plunges into Paddy quicker than before, excitement alive in his veins at getting to see Paddy come undone.
Paddy's wrist is dropped so that Remmick can grab each of Paddy's thighs, pushing them up to his chest with a feral sound. A strained noise leaks out of Paddy at the way Remmick's claws grip him, and each brush of the vampire's cock against him feels like too much. He gasps loudly at how hard he pounds into him, feeling each full thrust in his lungs and hovering on the edge of pleasure-pain with it.
Remmick still needs to be closer. He moves Paddy's legs to sit them both on his shoulders without stopping. Without the capacity to think, he nips roughly at Paddy's inner thigh, right next to his knee. It's not enough to break skin, but he bruises him intentionally before resting his lips there. "Is this what you're after? Gettin' me all whipped up." Paddy's breath rushes out unevenly as he feels his cock try to harden again, but it only makes it halfway, having already released. The stare he gives Remmick completely glazes over, head swimming with a drunk feeling from being forced into overstimulation.
He loves it.
"Y-Yes-" Paddy nods feverishly, face burning and not bothering to stop the helpless sounds that drip out of his lips. "S'good- It.. S'too much-" The words are slurred, and he can't resist touching himself again every time Remmick stuffs himself back into his greedy hole. The barely-there hiccups Paddy gives when he sounds as though he's being pushed to tears pluck a sadistic string inside Remmick.
Remmick looks like a man possessed as he sweeps his tongue over the mark he knows will turn purple. "Go on and cry for it. Love seein' that my cock's just too much for you." He says it like he isn't moments away from spilling into Paddy again; his tone stretched with a desperate need to fill him up completely until he's heavy with it.
Remmick leans forward, down enough so that he can drag his lips along the nape of Paddy's neck, tongue sweeping over the thin sheen of sweat that's formed. "C'mon, you can gimme one more, can't you?" The slow bite of his fangs against Paddy's earlobe wrenches a whine out of him. "Come on my cock- One more and I'll stop it."
Paddy sees stars as his cock gives a last twitch, then his fist stops as his second orgasm hits him, milking the come out of him until it drips down his fingers. He's silent this time, barring a single, hitched choke; tears prick in his eyes as he struggles to catch his breath.
That's when Remmick knows. He can feel a rapid swell at the base of him, and he knows he's going to knot inside of Paddy. "Wanna fill you- I-I'm gonna knot- Oh fuck."
Before Paddy can even register what Remmick said, he feels it; Remmick buries himself into his walls all the way and stays there as a sudden pressure stretches his hole significantly more than before. His fingers ball into fists at the rush of warmth flooding him, alongside Remmick's strangled moans above. He lets his head roll back on the ground, as a low, possessive growl rolls out from above with a heavy, "Mine." Paddy expects it to be quick, but the sensation of being filled doesn’t let up as each press of Remmick’s hips sends a new wave of release pouring into him. Until he’s impossibly full, and Remmick is staring, glassy-eyed at the gentle swell of Paddy’s stomach.
Finally, Remmick's sounds slow to a complete stop, still deep and locked in place by the knot. He's panting wildly between the light nibbles he gives to Paddy's neck and collarbone, before resting his forehead there. The two of them remain like that until Remmick is blinking, his thoughts sifting back into the room. His breath catches in his throat when he realises what he's done, and fear creeps up inside him. "S-Sorry. I didn't mean to.." It trails off as he tries to collect his thoughts, but he's distracted by the scent of blood and the fact that he doesn't know how long they'll both be like this.
Paddy's voice sounds raspy when he tries it, trying to get a footing on the situation after letting go of control of it to begin with. "That's enough." He tries to sound annoyed, but it doesn't quite grasp the edges. It reaches Remmick's ears and there's a pull of guilt in him, concerned that he's hurt Paddy. "I said let go." When Paddy tries to move away, Remmick moves with him, and the air hisses past his teeth with a sharp inhale.
His claws are quick to grab Paddy's hips to get him to stop before he hurts either of them. "I can't- It don't work like that…"
As Paddy's mind begins to clear, the heat burns his face as he glares up. "What the hell are you talkin' about?"
Remmick's brows furrow up with the sensitive pulse of his knot, not remotely thinking about what he's saying. "I… Oh gods, Paddy, it feels good like this." His eyes drop to where they're connected, and a quiet sob falls out of him at the sight of it.
Paddy's breath catches gently in his throat at the way he hears his name. "Have you completely lost it?"
It forces Remmick's eyes shut, suddenly quieter with being faced with reality. "I told you, it's a… breedin' thing."
"Pardon?" Paddy blinks, staring daggers up at him as he forces a pointed laugh. "You think I want to be your little mate?"
The thought of it makes Remmick's knot visibly pulse, and he swallows thickly. He knows Paddy felt it, too. "No- You just… pushed my buttons and my body reacted."
Paddy touches the wound on his neck with the reminder, undecided if he regrets letting Remmick do it in the heat of the moment. "You bit me."
It's so matter-of-fact that Remmick mirrors the tone of it instead of apologising. He decides that he isn't sorry for it. "Not hard enough to turn you."
A silence settles over the two men until Paddy works the tension in his jaw before addressing the more pressing issue of Remmick's knot. "How long?"
"Depends." Remmick tries to answer flatly to counteract how concerned he feels internally. It was one thing being intimate with someone again; it was another to let himself get so worked up that he would actually lose enough control to knot.
Paddy's eyes narrow in response, waiting for more than just 'depends' as anything acceptable. It's only then that Remmick continues, trying to recall anything he knows about it after so long. "-On pheromones? I don't know." He offers up a forced half-laugh. "If you hate me, it shouldn't be more than ten… maybe twenty minutes, at most." It wasn't a complete lie; usually, an unsuited pair might only be joined for less than ten minutes, especially if there were negative feelings between them already.
Not that Remmick ever understood why that might happen in the first place, until now.
An hour later, and Remmick is still swollen when he tries to pull away from Paddy. His cheeks have a heavy blush to them, and he hasn't been able to look Paddy in the face for the last fifteen minutes. Not that he needs to. He knows Paddy is glaring up at the top of the tent so intensely, he can think of at least three jokes relating to it catching fire from the staring. He wishes it were any other position they were stuck in, or rather, none at all, if he was actually wishing for things.
They're just lucky that the tent is far enough away that the noises never seemed to draw attention; both of them being missing, however, might eventually do it.
Eventually, Remmick gently shifts his hips back to see if anything has changed, and only breathes a hushed 'fuck' when it moves Paddy with him. He ignores the way the pulse dances in the man beneath him with the movement. Remmick still can't look him in the face, but he attempts to break the silence by addressing the elephant in the room. "…Paddy…"
"Don't." It's immediate. Gritted. Paddy already knows what he's going to say. He doesn't want to talk about it, certainly not like this. Not just because he's annoyed with being forced to stay put, but because he isn't willing to be faced with any more complicated feelings beyond anger or lust.
Instead of listening, Remmick points out the obvious. It takes most of his concentration to remain calm about it, thankful that Paddy hasn't taken to more extreme measures to be free. "We're still-"
"I am not your fuckin' mate." He's flustered when he snaps back at Remmick. It's mostly under his breath, though he nearly fails to keep his voice down alongside an unhealthy dose of anger.
The tone has Remmick's eyes narrow, irritated with his attitude over something he's already apologised for. "I know." Remmick can't help but snarl back, his upper lip curling with exasperation as he reaches down to take Paddy's jaw with his claws. He finally looks down at him despite his own shame, leaning down to tut in his face. "My mate, wouldn't be such a brat." His voice curls around the last word in a way that has Paddy's spent cock twitch.
He can't get a read on Remmick at all; it's dizzying as he presses his mouth into a flat line.
He isn't attracted to Remmick.
It's hate that makes his stomach drop at the thought of him.
Even if the prominent knot and the state of his own cock scream otherwise.
Remmick's head tilts, just so, examining Paddy's features and the way his heartbeat jumps under his intense watch. He creeps forward, breathy words tickling Paddy's ear enough to make arousal pool in his stomach again. "Or would they?" Paddy keeps a stern face; the stubborn parts of him are unrelenting. The way his breath catches betrays him, and when Remmick gives a not-so-subtle shift of his hips so that Paddy feels his knot everywhere, a smugness takes over.
The only clear response Remmick gets is a scowl, and while he lets go of Paddy, his own eyes drift down to the base of him. Finally. A wash of relief filters through him as he realises that his knot is receding at last. Paddy seems to catch on as well, and after a few long minutes, Remmick knocks against sensitive parts of the human while he slides himself free.
It's enough to keep Paddy's arousal stoked, annoyed that he can't stop his cock from jerking against Remmick as he moves away.
Those red eyes don't move from the way Paddy twitches, even after they're free. Remmick hasn't moved far, only enough that he can watch his cum begin to drip down Paddy's thighs. There's a barely-there moan uttered below him that catches his attention. Remmick wets his lips before he states so nonchalantly, it isn't clear what he's thinking. "You're hard again."
To a frustrated Paddy, that doesn't matter. After so long with Remmick inside him, pressing against his sensitive parts every time one of them moves, he can't think clearly enough to say anything clever and not aggressive. "Shut up."
Remmick's echoed retort drips with a single laugh as he flashes his brows to Paddy. "Make me." The irony exchanged is palpable.
It's a direct challenge, and Paddy doesn't have it in him to back down. His hands reach up to Remmick's shirt, fingers gripping the fabric to yank him down. It forces Remmick to fall forward, hands landing on either side of Paddy to cage him as their mouths meet.
This time, Remmick moves against him in a crushing kiss. Paddy's breath staggers around it as Remmick moans into him, and he tries to remind himself that it doesn't mean anything. He's simply showing the other that he isn't one to back down from a challenge, that's all.
Remmick's hand moves down Paddy's side, brushing over the exposed skin of his thigh and back up until his fingers can palm his erection. It throbs in his hand, and Paddy breaks the kiss to pant with how sensitive he feels. Remmick chases his throat with his lips, pressing them to his flesh and muttering just enough for Paddy to hear. "Turn over."
Paddy's brows furrow despite the clear arousal in his features, and Remmick makes note of exactly how he looks for later. "What?"
Remmick's greed whisks another lie from the ether with sly ease. "Turn over. Might not be my mate, but it ain't proper leavin' you like that." He leans back to watch Paddy as he waits, knowing he won't get another chance for this if he leaves it. Words of protest die in Paddy's throat, no doubt concerned about Remmick knotting again. "I ain't fuckin' you, Paddy. Do as you're told." He gives a light slap to Paddy's thigh to compel him to move, noting that his claws have retracted nicely again. That, and the way Paddy's eyes seemed to jolt at the slap.
Paddy's cock jerks at the feeling, and he's suddenly feeling a little more pliable than before. It's most likely the tiredness beginning to set in, nothing more.
When Paddy begrudgingly turns over to sit on his knees with some 'help', Remmick's hand shoves in between his shoulder blades. There's a quick grunt from Paddy as he's forced onto all fours, and before he can raise his voice to Remmick, there's a sharp crack of a palm against his ass that cuts it dead in its tracks. It forces Paddy's cock to jump with the contact, and a lengthy moan to fall out of him before he can stop it.
"So fuckin' stubborn…" Remmick's eyelids get heavy as he does it again, and again, immediately following it up each time by palming the muscle slowly until eventually, Paddy's chest slowly sinks to the ground without being told to do it. All the while, Remmick's eyes are trained on the way the rest of his cum is spilling out of Paddy, dripping down his balls and onto the ground. He swallows at the sight, salivating again while his fingers skim over to softly tap at his soaked hole.
Paddy's body flinches slightly, and Remmick sees his hands clench into fists when he slips a finger past the ring of muscle to slide some of the spend back into him. "-Oh god-" Remmick's ears twitch at the way Paddy's voice cries out: hoarse and wanting as he pushes back against the intrusion.
When Remmick thrusts in search of the spot that he hopes to make Paddy see stars, the way he's met with a set of rocking hips makes his voice drop with pleasure. "That's it, take what you need, dove." He's not entirely sure where it comes from, but he doesn't push away the sense of pride when Paddy's moans become muffled against his forearms.
Paddy can't stop moving against Remmick's hand as a second finger joins, and he can't deny the way it feels much better than his own. Especially with each curl of the pads as they search for his prostate; when Remmick finds it, Paddy's cock is already leaking and flushed red with need. It has him gasping and panting for 'more' under his breath, to which Remmick gladly obliges.
When he feels a wet, slow stripe glide up from his sack to join the fingers, Paddy pushes his forehead against his crossed arms. His jaw loosens, and his brows furrow up as he realises it's Remmick's tongue licking into him, likely coated in his own release that had dripped down to his balls. "Filthy fuckin'- O-Oh-"
Remmick's tongue makes quick work of Paddy, moving alongside his fingers as he lets out a darker chuckle at his reaction. Remmick watches for the ways Paddy reacts to his touch, and it isn't long after taking note that he has Paddy's legs shaking like he's about to spill. Conscious that it already looked sensitive, Remmick's free hand moves to cup Paddy's cock, playing with his dripping head enough to know that he's close.
What he doesn't expect, is for Paddy the moment finally snaps; seconds before he's coming, his breathy moans are worked out of him and woven with Remmick's name. "-Fuck- R-Remmick- I..I'm- Don't stop- Don't you fuckin' stop-" Remmick groans into his hole as keeps up his pace, eager to see Paddy finish after hearing his name. If Remmick had anything left to give, he'd have come again right there on the spot.
Finally, the heat crashes through Paddy's body as he hits his climax, and he has to bite into his fist to muffle any noise. It draws a quiet, sated growl from Remmick as he slows his movements. He stays there as he watches Paddy catch his breath, unable to help himself from smiling at the thought of the mess they've both made. When Paddy's hips stop twitching with the aftermath, it's only then that Remmick retracts from him completely.
There's a soft whine from Paddy at the loss, and Remmick can't help but think the way he slumps afterwards makes him look particularly boneless.
When Paddy eventually sits up to get his bearings, he looks back to see Remmick resting back on his hands. He isn't the least bit sure how to address any of what's transpired, or even if he wants to. All he knows is that tiredness is seeping into his bones and that he needs to sleep it off. When he's ready, Paddy gathers his clothes to silently put them back on.
Remmick, predictably, is the one to break the silence as he stands. "So, can I stay?"
Paddy sits on his cot, taking a glance at Remmick before giving a weak nod. "If you shut up."
Remmick lowers himself onto his own cot; he won't sleep, but he could do with the rest. "Only if you make me."
The two of them share a grin, and for the first time since Paddy got to camp, he gives a genuine, soft laugh at the cheek of it as he lies down for the night. "Aye, I might."
I didn't realise people were still embarrassing themselves like this. It is revolting to dog on someone's looks in general, let alone their partner.
I think some of you are far too comfortable insulting others when realistically, I'm sure if we took away the anonymity and held up a mirror, you wouldn't feel so confident saying it.
He is obviously in a happy relationship. In case you weren't aware already, he certainly does not need your approval, and he's not picking you, my goodness.
If you do this then I'm sorry but you're a clown, please get a life.
This is part of why I don't write fanfiction of irl people, it feels wrong, crosses boundries, and it just gets weird.
AN: (Skins Rise) Cook is in heat, and you help him.
I have not re-read any of this. I just did it for some drabble practice and therefore, almost didn't post it. 982 words is still a drabble, I'm still learning 🙏
Cook's breaths hitch at each trace of your finger against his puckered hole. He's soaked already from his heat, sweating so much you could see the dark patches through his clothes when you first got here. You thought every omega was aware that they could only take their suppressants for a few months at the absolute maximum before a review; Cook had been abusing them for years. You wouldn't have even known until he ran out of pills prematurely.
"I'm not rushing through this, Cook. You've never even done it before."
The sound of his nails biting into your mattress greets you as he pushes his ass against your finger; he's so slick already that it's enough for you to slip in almost halfway. A needy whine slips free out of him without shame, and his cock bobs underneath him, angry and red.
Something about the noise, perhaps the pitch or some note he hits, it strikes something hot inside you. You want to hear it again. Need it. Cook's scent is so overwhelming that he's lucky he hadn't brought the attention of alphas back with him before he even understood what was happening. But you try not to think about that right now, their hands reaching out for something that wasn't theirs.
Cook is yours.
You've known it since you smelled the thick heat on him. Your omega, and you'll be damned if you were to let another soul so much as see him like this, let alone touch him. As if to prove it, you grin as you finally relent and ease your finger into Cook's ass. The sight of him on all fours and spreading his thighs more in response sends a surge of something dangerous to your lower abdomen.
"Soaked already, baby. I'll take care of you, okay?"
Cook's face burns hot against the bedding, and his eyes all but glaze over when you add another finger. He didn't want to admit it for so long, not to you or himself, but with him finally giving into his instinct and letting you open him up like this… He had feared being abused by an alpha, but the instant reprieve is unlike anything Cook had ever experienced. You feel your sex pulse in response to the way his sopping hole clenches around your fingers, and you start to thrust them languidly against his coated walls.
"F-Fuck, I wa-.. I need more!"
Cook buries his face into the covers, arms folded in front of his head to muffle his growing whimpers that break out of his chest. When you crook your fingers, you watch his cock visibly jerk at the same time Cook's whine cracks out of him. You place light kisses on his thigh, turning into small, claiming nips as you speed up your fingers.
When your other hand reaches out to cup Cook's sack, he flinches with a new gush of slick that pours out of him. You peer down to watch his thick cock twitch and leak pre-cum onto the sheets; the sight of it has your stare turn half-lidded.
"Shh, I know… My omega needs this, doesn't he?"
He nods feverishly to you as your fingers work into him, uncharacteristically quiet with need.
"Y-Yours…"
The dazed word falls out of Cook like he hadn't noticed it slip, and it plucks at a possessive chord in you. As you stretch his hole, your eager digits abuse the spot that makes him jump and make pathetic noises with each stroke. The pulse of Cook's entire body screams that he's already close to the edge just from this; no longer proud or cocksure of himself, just pliant and rolling his hips back to match your speed.
"Such a good boy for me, Cook, right here, yeah?"
Like a trigger word, Cook only responds with gritted teeth and a desperate whine as your words force his cock to jump. As your fingers carefully massage into his sack, Cook's back arches wonderfully for you enough that his head tips back. His rasps are thick, and while the slick runs down his balls, you feel the base of him starting to swell. A moan slips out of you when you realise your omega's body is trying to knot, and pride blooms in your chest at the thought of Cook's body trusting you.
"S'good- shit it's- S'too good, gonna come!"
Cook's eyes clench shut, body trembling under you. You can feel his walls flutter around your fingers as he comes early and just as hard, releasing over the sheets and his own stomach and chest with a pleasured cry. Your fingers don't let up their movements as you continue to pump them, working him through his first orgasm. Cook's jaw hangs open for a litany of hoarse moans to spill out; your throat tightens at the noise, and as suspected, he doesn't stop.
"Fuck- Fuck- I-It won't stop!"
"Shh, I know- I've gotcha, let it happen."
Heat spreads over your face at the sight of Cook; a thin sheen of sweat coats him as his stomach and cock jerk with every wave of release onto the sheets below. When it finally ends, Cook's hips are still giving gentle thrusts back onto your fingers. His cock hasn't softened remotely, and judging from the small knot and frustrated tears rolling down his cheeks, you know it'll be a while before he's even remotely sated.
Carefully, as it all slows to a brief pause, you let your fingers slide out to replace them with your tongue before Cook can complain about the loss. You lick a slow, promising stripe up the seam of his tight balls to dip into his wet hole. He whimpers quietly at the feeling, slack-jawed and cracking open his eyes to look back for you as you help your omega through his first heat.
I am actively caught between finishing projects irl that make me genuinely happy, and the soul-crushing fear that some random reader might feed my unfinished work to the AI machine to 'finish' it instead if I'm not fast enough.
I don't think I've felt so overwhelmed and pressured by myself in a while. It's taking the joy out of writing for me any time I force myself to return to a fic. I fear the longer I leave it, the less anyone will care or worse, actively dislike and complain at whatever I put out.
I'm trying to do both and instead, I just feel guilty and numb for doing either.
Happy Sinnersversary!! Sadly no fic from me cause I've honestly haven't had any joy in writing for a hot minute buuuuutt I have been working on my zine idea here and there!
The idea behind the zine is for it to be a sort of token to thank the Jacko community for giving me inspiration, motivation and friendships I wouldn’t have had otherwise <3
Here’s the Remmick pages I’ve made so far! These were the first pages I ever made and they’re in no way done and I do wanna change some stuff. I don’t know if I’ll ever be truly happy with how they turn out tbh lol
Shoutout to @scrprints and his screenshot archive
I’m thinking of maybe making a double page to showcase the wonderful scenery in Sinners like when the joint is burning down etc. and I might make a few of those for other movies as well! (maybe 28yrs and bone temple??)
I still have a ton of pages to do and it’ll probably take ages but I’m always interested in feedback and ideas! So feel free to scream out anything! (Collab or not, I will credit if I can :3)
