Elrond, even for an elf, has a very sad life, and I think one of the more comedic reasons for this sad life is that (and I’m sure someone else has already pointed this out) whenever something bad happens to him, songs are written about it and sung repeatedly to him.
Imagine: Your father, upon traveling to Valinor to request help, is turned into a star and left in the sky forever? That’s very sad. We’ll write a song about it and sing it to you frequently.
One of your closest friends and your brother in arms was killed horrifically alongside your many times great nephew in a duel with the most evil thing since Melkor? That’s very sad. We can write a song about that one too!
And there must be loads that Tolkien neglects to divulge. Think of the songs sung in Numenor and later Gondor about King Elros Tar-Minyatur. The epics told about the terrible acts of the sons of Fëanor in middle earth.
And the worst offenders are Lindir and the hobbits, especially Bilbo. When Frodo and co arrive in Rivendell, Bilbo and Lindir present The Song of Earendil, they sing it through, and the elves all insist upon hearing it again.
All of that adds another layer to the complicated nature of the popular idea that Lindir is Maglor living under a false name.
Hello Tumblr, Wētā posted what seem to be new BTS photos from the FotR Last Alliance scenes on Facebook and I am not seeing these in Elrond and Gil-galad's tags here yet so I am bringing them to you!
Author's Note: I'm not even sure if THIS was a request or not, but here you go. I always wanted to write a quick little oneshot about being just one of the many girls that Billy takes home, and all the "really crazy" noises that come from his room when he's alone with a girl
This is short, but I promise something longer next Friday. I am almost finished with another request, just wanted to make it perfect. Love you guys and thanks so much for reading my junk
Summery: Billy ruins you in his bedroom after school one day
Warnings: 18+ only!! MINORS DNI, SMUT without plot, language, rough sex, p in v, creampie, Billy being Billy, everyone is legal and everything is consensual
My Masterlist in case you want more Billy
Divider by @cafekitsune
"Fuck, your cunt feels so good squeezing my cock, gonna ruin this pussy, make it mine, little bitch!"
Billy's mustache tickles the side of your face, his hot breath fanning over your skin, gripping your hips, rough and tight, pulling you back onto his fat cock, at the same time slamming his hips into yours.
Your legs spread out awkwardly, ass arched up, just slightly, your face mushed against his pillows. You breathe in their smell, cigarettes, cologne and sleep.
Sloppy, wet sounds of fucking, bouncing off the walls of Billy's bedroom, where you find yourself, after school on this, a random Wednesday afternoon.
"Love this, don'tcha, princess? Soakn' my fat dick?"
God, Billy's voice gets all low, almost a rumble and your pussy responds every time he talks, clenching around his huge girth. And God, was he thick. Hung like a fucking beast! The stretch alone had your eyes rolling towards the back of your skull. Pounds into you hard, mattress squeaking, the whole bed rutting back and forth along the wooden floor beneath.
Billy's primal when he fucks, wild and athletic... glistening with sweat, mouth hangs open softly, tongue lolling out from the corner of his lips. He's beautiful, should be in porn. Love how he manhandles you, doesn't ask, just moves you where he wants you. Tossing you around like you weight nothing at all.
Tears seeping out from the corners of your eyes, running down your cheeks, he's fucking you so good and deep.
Prone Bone.
You've heard from the girls in the locker room that it was Billy's favorite position, at least that's what everyone thought, because eventually every girl who was lucky enough to be chosen to enter his room, gets herself in this position, and you're no different.
Poor little you, breathless beneath the weight of his heavy thick body. The mattress soaked with sweat. The bedroom window open, but doing very little to cool either one of you. Feels like you've been fucking for hours, and truth was you couldn't get enough of this man. Your body on fire, shaky and weak. Pretty much a puddle of goo beneath him. Your knuckles going white from how tight you're gripping at the sheets. Broken moans and weird sounds coming from deep in your throat, sounds you've never heard come out of you before.
Led Zeppelin filters in and out of your consciousness, playing on the stereo on the other side of the room.
"Please, Billy... too much."
You moan, chewing on your bottom lip.
Can't get enough of that fat cock, can't get it deep enough, desperate for him to ruin you. Telling him it's too much, but the whole time you wriggle your bum, rutting it back harder against him as much as you can, ass cheeks bouncing every time his hips slam back into yours.
"Nah, you can handle it, being such a good girl for me, such a pretty little slut for my cock."
Billy snarls, leaning down, biting and sucking at your neck. Leaving drool and a random assortment of bruises scattered across your skin. Big hand slipping underneath to grab at your tit. Roughly squeezing it in his large palm, thumb brushing over your pert nipple, giving it a hard pinch, causing a soft moan leave your throat, muffled slightly by the pillow flush against your cheek.
Billy groans all sexy in your ear, slowing down his thrusts for just a beat, dragging his fat cock through your wet heat, balls deep, then pulling almost completely out and slamming himself back in again. Knows if he keeps up this slower pace, he'll shoot his load all over your sweet cunt, especially with all the soft, pretty noises you keep making.
"uh, uh, uh."
Repetitive grunts being fucked right out of you.
The stamina on this guy is outrageous and you love every second of his brutal thrusting and his equally pretty noises, but you can barely keep up. It's like he's a wild dog in heat. You're in complete heaven, wanting nothing more than to be fucked and fucked good by the King of Hawkins High himself.
Rough, quickly grabs your wrists with one hand, pinning them above your head, leaning his full weight down on them, hips snapping forward, sharp and deep, making you cry out in utter pleasure.
Fuck. How'd he get so good at this. Some asshole from California, fucking his way through every girl in this shit town.
Huge cock smacks against your cervix with every deep pump of his hips. Almost violent in how feral he is, how wild he's fucking into you. Let's go of your wrists only to shove his fingers in your mouth, making you gag.
"Such a dirty little bitch... this cunt was made for my fat dick."
Growls and you swear this man loves to hear himself talk. Never shuts the fuck up, but you love it, eat it all up and maybe, just maybe you're falling in love with him. You love his deep voice, how it's smooth like honey, vibrating through his chest and hitting you deep against your back. Makes your pussy wetter, if a voice could even do that. You suck hard, drool spilling out around his fingers that are pushed almost down your throat, can't get them deep enough. Need him to fill every hole in your body.
Pussy so tight and velvety smooth. Adjusts his angle a bit, grunts and slams hard, his hips grinding and smacking, making your ass jiggle as he pounds into your tightness again and again.
What the actual fuck. He's a total sex god. One day you were just hanging out with your friends, next you're spread wide, pinned down and being rut into like a bitch in heat, begging for more.
"Fuck me Billy... Fuck me for fuck's sake! Need more!"
You moan loud and he chuckles. Lips curling in a wicked little smirk, like you're suddenly challenging him, even though he knows he's fucking you good. I mean just look at you beneath him, moaning, makeup completely ruined, sweaty, sucking his fingers like a little whore, begging for more.
"Thought my dick was too big for ya, princess? Aww, need my big cock splitting your tight little cunt open? Such a pathetic slut."
Buries himself balls deep again and again, thrusting fast, fucking you like he hates you and loves you at the same time. Feels like he's ripping you open, hitting every single nerve ending, lighting your whole body on fire.
"Gonna fuckn' destroy this cunt."
Wraps his thick hand around your neck and pulls you back a little, his breath hot and ragged, can feel his long curls brushing against your shoulder and upper back. Your drenched pussy flutters around him and you know you're close again, already cumming once earlier, before his cock was even inside you.
"Oh GOD... Billy, your cock is so fucking huge!"
Laughs at how cute and desperate you sound. Knows he's big, hears it from girls all the time.
"That's right, baby girl... take it! This what you wanted, yeah? To be split open on my huge cock until you can't think straight?"
"Billy.... ohhh Billy!"
You cry out.
His hand slips down between your pussy and the mattress and you instantly start rutting against it, the friction exactly what you were desperate for. His thumb rubs hard against your swollen clit, the weight of his body heavy, pressing down against your back, sandwiching you between his body and his hand feels too good.
Then his voice again, hot and deep, rumbling against your back.
"Gonna cum on my cock like a dirty little whore?"
You swear you can feel every ridge and vein of his massive cock, every thick inch stretching you wide, filling you deliciously. You hump against his hand. Pressure coils in your belly, intense, then the heat, spreading throughout your entire body as you cum hard. Pussy squeezing and fluttering around his cock. The most strange gurgle leaving your throat, it's almost a breathless, half moan, half cry.
The whole time you cum, Billy doesn't let up, just ruts even harder and deeper, pounding into your tight heat, hips slamming, rocking your entire body. Pussy utterly soaked and dripping down around his length and onto his hand beneath your hips.
You whimper, lying against a puddle of your own drool.
"Atta girl."
Purrs deep, slaps your ass nice and hard, gripping it tight. His fucking getting erratic.
"Milk my cock with this greedy cunt! FUCK little bitch... take it... take every drop!"
Random filthy words and pretty moans fall from Billy's lips. Breathing heavy against your ear as he cums hard, hips slowing down, huge cock pulses deep inside you, grinding into your ass.
You swear you hear him whimper, it's the most soft and pretty sound you've ever heard. He unloads thick, hot ropes of cum deep inside your hot cunt, flooding your insides. Can feel it filling you up, his body suddenly achingly heavy and sweaty against yours as he lets go, his dead weight pressed against your back.
You bite your bottom lip, moaning, milking every last drop of cum from his sexy body. Your pussy squeezing hard, like you don't want to ever let him out. You arch and rut back against him, thighs trembling. Not wanting it to end, even though you feel completely spent.
Just like that he rolls off you, almost a relief, he's so fucking heavy and thick. Can feel the warm stickiness seeping out of your used pussy and on to your thighs, your poor cunt, completely wrecked and you're sure you'll be sore for days. You feel like you need to pee, but you can't move.
"FUCK, Yeah!! WOO! That was some good shit!"
Billy is loud and his voice makes you jump. Already getting up, giving your ass a loud smack as he practically jumps off the bed, reaching for his jeans off of the little couch. Pulling them up past his thick thighs, smirking down at your red ass cheeks.
"Come on, gotta go, princess."
Nudges you along, stopping and lighting a cigarette, shirtless and sweaty, pants hanging open, wearing a shit eating grin.
Oh yeah. This is also the other rumor about Billy Hargrove.
“Don't bend; don't water it down; don't try to make it logical; don't edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.” ― Anne Rice
In this exclusive deleted scene from 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple, Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal (Jack O'Connell) and Dr. Ian Kelson (Ralph Fiennes) part ways just as the infected Alpha Samson (Chi Lewis-Parry) arrives!
I am bisexual, and no longer know what I really think of love. There is this raw, human love and attachment, of course. Then there is the construct of romantic love. I don't think I believe in romantic love anymore - in fact, I question if I ever did, but women are indoctrinated into this since we are very young, it can take a while to untangle yourself from it. I am not sex-repulsed by any means, but the way I see it is a more animal-like impulse. It can be so much more. Then there's sex magick. Etc.
Not going anywhere with this, just a short self-reflection.
But yup, it's always terrible men. I guess I only crave their absolute shamelessness and apparent freedom. That gets tangled up with sex, and the need to romanticize them in order to relate to them.
When in reality I can become a terrible woman and be happy lol no one can stop me.
I based this on my long fic A Scorpion's Touch that I wrote a while ago, if you want more Frank like this post check that one out as well!
A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about their partner?)
Physically: I’ve answered this before but Frank loves your tummy and your tits more than anything, he loves leaving bite marks all over them when you’re together and marking you as his.
Mentally: Frank likes to feel like a protector in a relationship, he loves being with someone who needs him and isn’t shy about letting him know it, but he needs a partner with a bit of a bad girl streak as well, that will keep him on his toes.
B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)
LOL no. Frank doesn’t want a family. He did that once, never again. Frank isn’t cut out for a family, or a stable life, and he’s especially not cut out for fatherhood. Not that he can have children anymore now that he’s a vampire, so no worries there.
C = Cuddle (How do they like to cuddle?)
Frank likes to cuddle in bed with you against his side and his arm around you, or spooning with him holding you from behind, his hands around your stomach and your back against his chest.
D = Dreams (How do they picture their future with their S/O?)
Frank isn’t much for picturing the future, he likes to live in the present and let things just happen. He knows he wants you to stay in his life but that’s as far as he’s thought about it.
E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))
“You’re my whole heart.” Frank can be quite romantic in the heat of the moment, and though he tries not to show it, you mean a lot to him and when you’re going at it hot and heavy the things he says continually surprise you with how soft they can be.
F = Feelings (When did they know they're in love?)
It took Frank a while to realize he actual loved you, and it took almost losing you to figure it out. Frank had taken over Kristof Lazaar’s crime empire after killing him for taking you from him, kidnapping you and planning to turn you in retaliation for the death of Abigail. When he saw you tied up and at the mercy of Lazaar, he almost lost his mind and went on a rampage, plowing through the men that protected Lazaar’s estate and eventually Lazaar himself to get you back.
G = Gratitude (How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their S/O does for them?)
Frank doesn’t show it, but he does notice the things you do for him and is thankful that you love him, even if he doesn’t think he deserves it. He tends to be dismissive when his softer emotions creep up on him, especially when it comes to romantic gestures. Though he does appreciate them, he doesn’t show it until you’re behind closed doors and all alone. He doesn’t let anyone but you see that side of him and even with you it’s rare.
H = Honesty (Do they have secrets they hide from their S/O?)
Not really, Frank is pretty honest about his life and all the things he’s done. He doesn’t hide much from you, and anything he does hide from you is because he doesn’t want you to worry or get hurt.
I = Injury (How would they react if you got hurt?)
After he knew you were okay, Frank would hunt down anyone who hurt you even the smallest bit and make them wish they were never born. He wouldn’t stop until they were dead. Frank is very possessive and you’re his, he doesn’t like it when anyone hurts what’s his.
J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous? How do they deal with it)
Frank is crazy jealous, more than one man who’s looked or talked to you has disappeared under strange circumstances. He knows he has nothing to worry about with you, that you would never hurt him, but he can’t help the heat that rises inside him when he sees other men talk to you, and good luck to them if they dare hit on you or touch you in any way, Frank will make sure they never touch anyone ever again.
K = Kiss (How do they kiss you? How do they like to be kissed?)
Frank’s kisses are desperate, and harsh. His stubble is sharp on your skin and his tongue is deep in your mouth before you even know what’s happening. He likes to be kissed back just as harshly, all tongue and teeth. He especially loves it when you bite his lower lip as he pulls away after a particularly heated kiss, and often does the same to you.
L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)
Believe it or not Frank says “I love you” first, though it’s during sex, and he blurts it out before he knows what he’s saying. He means it, but he’s embarrassed to say it out loud at first, and even after the first time, he rarely says it. He tends to use acts of service to show you how he feels about you.
M = Memory (What’s their favorite memory together?)
Frank’s favorite memory of you together is, not surprisingly, the first time you slept together. Meeting you changed something in him and he couldn’t resist you that first night (and every night after too, honestly).
N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)
Frank will absolutely buy you anything you want, any time you want, though he knows that isn’t important to you. He didn’t have anything but a criminal reputation and an apartment to his name when you met and you didn’t care about any of it.
O = On Cloud Nine (What are they like when they're in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?)
Frank keeps his emotions close to the chest around everyone but you, the only indication of how he feels being that the two of you are together almost constantly after you meet, spending every spare moment together.
P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)
Angel is his go-to pet name for you, though sweetheart is a close second.
Q = Questions (What are the questions they’re always asking?)
Frank isn’t much for asking questions, he’s not a talkative guy (unless he’s unloading compliments on you in bed), though he’s careful to make sure you’re okay and he doesn’t hurt you when you’re together.
R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)
Short answer: a LOT of sex is how Frank likes to spend a rainy day inside with you. Once he turns you, you destroy at least one room of the house on a weekly basis with your intense lovemaking. R.I.P. to your furniture.
S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/S/O up?)
Frank will take you anywhere you want to go to cheer you up when you’re down, he loves seeing you light up when you go to your favorite places in the city and hates to see you sad. He always acts casual, but you can see in his eyes how he feels about you when he does things like this for you.
T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)
Frank isn’t much for talking, preferring action to conversation, though he does like to listen while you talk in bed as the sun comes up before you both fall asleep, humming occasionally to show he’s listening.
U = Understanding (How well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)
Frank isn’t the most empathetic partner, but he does try. He remembers everything you tell him and everything he notices about you and your habits, and when you’re upset he might not always understand but he always stays with you to comfort you, arms wrapped tight around you and your face buried in his neck as he holds you.
V = Value (How important is the relationship to them? What is it worth in comparison to other things in their life?)
When Frank realizes what you mean to him, you become the most important thing in the world to him and he would do anything to keep you safe and close to him. Your relationship is worth the world to him though it takes a lot for him to understand that about himself and his feelings.
W = Wedding (When, where, and how do they propose?)
He doesn’t. Frank has no interest in getting married again, he just wants to be with you and thinks that should be enough.
X = XOXO (How affectionate are they? In public/in private)
In public Frank is affectionate, but it’s mostly an expression of his possessiveness. He’s always got your hand in his or an arm around you to send the message that you’re his to anyone around. In private, he’s a little softer and willing to kiss and cuddle if you want him to, though he acts like he doesn’t like it (he loves it, having you all to himself still makes him happier than anything else, no matter how long you’ve been together).
Y = Yearning (How well do they cope when they're separated from their S/O?)
Frank was alone for years after he moved to Boston, and did just fine. But after meeting you he can’t see himself alone anymore. He doesn’t like to be separated from you for more than a few hours, and always keeps in touch with you while you’re gone or he’s away from home. And as soon as you’re together again he’s all over you, showing how much he missed you.
Z = Zeal (Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship?)
Frank is willing to do almost anything for you and your relationship, he’s risked his life more than once for you and would do it again in a heartbeat.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY @h3r3t1c ILY🥰🎀🎂 this is your present, i hope you like it🎁 also this is quite LONG sorry… idk why i added the psychosis thing i felt like i wanted to explore what being constantly raped and giving birth to an unwanted baby does to someone. i think i lowkey hate this one but whatever
synopsis: you’re trying to survive, when you meet a strange cult. and their leader, who’s determined to make you his.
race/appearance neutral reader!
WARNINGS: dead dove, noncon, reader is a sex slave, hallucinations, psychosis, loss of self, piv, oral on f, rimming (f receiving), sloppy kissing, lactation kink, pregnant sex, breastfeeding, pregnancy, mommy kink, childbirth, sex shortly after childbirth, dacryphilia, forced captivity, stockholm syndrome, handcuffs, jimmy is STINKY
tags: @theabhartachsbride
song:
what day is it? what time is it? are you dead?
the sunlight teases your bruised skin through the thin curtains, the trees humming in the wind. the window is open. you could escape from there, if it weren’t for the handcuffs.
your mouth feels dry, your body is numb. it’s like you’re not even there. you chuckle to yourself, not remembering where you are and why.
you wonder why you’re naked, why your body is filled with bruises and bite marks. there’s some blood and other stains on the bed, you’re laying in filth.
then you hear it. someone calling for your name. it’s like they’re in the room.
”hello?” you call out.
again.
”mom?” you say, your eyes watering up.
”i’m here, dove”, your mom’s voice calls. you can see her shadow in the corner of the room.
”mom, can we go home?” you ask, tears falling from your eyes.
”we’ll go home, sweetheart, i promise”, she says, voice soft and gentle.
”mom, why did you have to die?” you ask, now fully crying.
”i’m so sorry, love”, she says. she steps into the light. it’s her, no mistake.
she walks up to the bed and gently pets your hair, you can feel the warmth of her palm.
”do you hear that?” your mom asks.
footsteps
”he’s coming, i have to go”, she says.
”who’s he?” you ask.
then the door opens.
a year earlier.
you can’t sleep. the day has been exhausting, too many infected. and even though you’re tired you keep laying with your eyes wide open, staring at the moldy, overgrown ceiling.
you’ve been on your own for some time. your mom was killed by the infected, along with your boyfriend. you couldn’t save them. you blame yourself for it every day.
dr. kelson gave you some supplies the last time you saw him. you like him, even though he is a bit strange. still, you prefer being on your own.
suddenly you hear footsteps outside the old building. you sit up, taking your knife.
”she went here, i saw her!” a young voice calls.
you stand up, squeezing the knife in your hand.
then you see them.
three odd-looking young people. one girl and two boys. the girl wears a blue tracksuit, the other boy a white one, and the second boy a green one.
”hey there”, the girl speaks. ”i’m jimmima”, she says, smiling at you. ”this is jimmy snake, and that’s jimmy jimmy”, she says, pointing at the guys.
you tell them your name, still holding the knife. you’re happy to see other survivors, even though they seem a bit weird.
”what are ye doin’ here by yerself?” jimmima asks.
”i lost my mom and my boyfriend”, you say.
”that’s awful”, jimmy snake says.
”ye should come with us!” jimmima says.
”i’ve been okay by myself, thank you”, you say.
”maybe fer now, but what happens when ye run into too many infected? or meet evil men that wanna ruin ye?” jimmima says.
you stay silent, she does have a point.
”where would you take me?” your ask.
”to a house near here, we never stay in one place for too long though”, jimmima says.
”how many are you?” your ask.
”eight!” she says.
you start thinking about it. sure, you have no idea who these people are and what are their intentions, but they seem nice enough. young, like you. and there’s a girl, that makes you feel more at ease.
”are there more girls there?” your ask.
jimmima grins. ”ye like lassies?” she asks. ”i- i didn’t mean-”, you quickly say.
”there’s me and jimmy ink”, jimmima says.
”i’ll come with you”, you say.
”great!” jimmima says, smiling. ”sir will be happy to meet ye”, she says.
”sir?” you repeat, growing suspicious.
”he’s awesome, ye’ll love him”, jimmima says.
you feel uneasy, but decide to follow them anyways. the walk is quite long, jimmima was clearly lying about it being close by.
you walk in silence, the guys taking a peek at you at times.
then you arrive. an white cabin with a barn and some other buildings. there’s even sheep.
inside you don’t see many people, they must be sleeping. there’s two in the kitchen.
one young boy, wearing a navy blue tracksuit. and then there’s him.
a man, early or late thirties, you can’t really tell from the way he’s dressed. a purple, velour tracksuit. golden chains hanging from his neck. rings on each finger. and a tiara on his head. he’s blonde, with a bit above shoulder-length, messy hair.
”what do we have here, eh?” he speaks.
”we found her all by herself”, jimmima says.
”a lonely wee lass, huh?” the man says, grinning, revealing his nasty, yellow teeth. some of them are blackened.
the way he’s speaking about you immediately makes your skin crawl. you wonder if you’ve made a terrible mistake.
”i- i don’t have to stay, i can go-”, you start, but the man cuts you off.
”nonsense. ye’re our guest now”, he says. he stands up, walking up to you.
”name’s jimmy”, he says. ”sir lord jimmy crystal, but ye can call me jimmy”, he adds with a smirk.
you immediately realize that he’s the boss.
”ye must be tired, c’mon”, jimmy says, leading you through a hallway and up some stairs.
he shows you to an empty room. there’s a bed and a table, along with a window.
”thank you”, you say.
”aye, ye’re home now, lass”, he says, patting you on the back. you shudder from his touch.
”get some sleep, i’ll put ye tae work tomorrow”, he says.
”work?” you ask.
”ye’ll see”, jimmy says.
of course, everyone has to do their part. you suspect that it will be something like cooking or gathering supplies.
you lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. you do feel safer when there’s other people around. maybe you’ll make a life for yourself with them. they seem nice enough, expect for the boss. he creeps you out.
you close your eyes, and quickly drift off to sleep. you dream of your boyfriend. at one point you wake up from a nightmare and swear that there’s someone in your room, but you quickly fall asleep again.
you wake up teary-eyed, you had terrible nightmares all night.
you stand up and stretch, the morning sun peeking through the curtains.
downstairs everyone is already eating breakfast.
”a sleepyhead, huh?” jimmy says with a smirk.
you sit next to jimmima, but you can’t eat. you’d feel wrong taking their food.
”c’mon, eat”, jimmy says. you hesitate for a while before obeying.
you haven’t had a decent breakfast in weeks, so it’s nice to be eating real food.
”ye sleep well?” jimmy asks. you nod. ”good, today will be a big day fer ye”, he says. you have no idea what plans he has for you, but you were expecting to be put to work.
after everyone is done eating jimmy orders his gang different tasks. some leave to go searching for a new place to stay, some stay to prep for lunch.
”ye.. ye have a special task”, jimmy says to you.
”what is it?” you ask. jimmy makes you follow him to your bedroom.
”umm, so what are we doing here-”, you start, but are startled by jimmy grabbing your waist and pulling you close to him.
”n-no”, you say, trying no push him off.
”no?” jimmy repeats. ”i was so kind to let ye stay with us, ye need tae pay somehow”, he says.
”i-i can cook and clean, even hunt!” you say, panicking.
”i already got people doing those things, but no one tae warm my bed… besides, ye’re way too pretty tae be doin’ any other work than this”, jimmy says, grinning.
he reeks. like old, dried up sweat. you almost gag from the smell.
jimmy leans in to kiss you, but you stubbornly turn your head. you’d rather die than have him kiss you with that nasty mouth.
jimmy chuckles. ”ye donnae want a smooch?” he asks. you shake your head. ”if you’re gonna do it then please, no kissing.. just get it over with”, you say. ”i swear i won’t fight you if you’ll be quick about it!” you add, with teary eyes.
jimmy chuckles again. ”where’s the fun in that? a lass as beautiful as ye deserves tae be worshipped, like a saint”, he says. ”ye’re gon’ be me mary magdalene”, he says.
then he kisses you, his lips feel damp against yours. his breath really stinks, like he never brushes his teeth.
he’s moaning, licking into you, sloppy and wet. he forces his tongue inside your mouth, twirling it against yours. you try to squirm, but it’s no use.
he’s slobbering all over your mouth while kissing you, smacking loudly. you have shivers going down your spine. you gag from his stench, and jimmy chuckles against yours lips. you feel his grin while he kisses you.
he finally parts with your lips, followed by a loud smack and a line of drool connecting your mouths.
mwah
he looks at you with a grin. ”so fuckin’ perfect fer me, pretty lass”, he says.
you start crying.
jimmy pouts at you. ”aww, poor lass, donnae cry, here, jimmy will make it betta”, he cooes at you.
then his lips crash against yours again. he’s placing wet, non-stop kisses on your lips and cheeks.
then he throws you on the bed, climbing on top of you, pinning you down on the mattress.
”stop, please!” you plead, tears rolling down your face.
”shh, lovey, i’ll make ye feel real’ good”, jimmy purrs.
then he kisses you again, almost lovingly. it’s a soft, gentle kiss, like he’s trying to calm you down.
”mmh”, he moans into the kiss, wiping away your tears. ”sweet wee babe, donnae cry”, he purrs at you.
then he starts pulling down your shirt, revealing your breasts. you quickly cover yourself up, trying to escape from his penetrating gaze. he tsk’s. ”donnae act silly, lass”, he says, forcing your arms to the side.
he stares at you for a while, mouth open, eyes fixated on your breasts. ”look at ye”, he says, in awe. ”so beautiful”, he adds. then he unzips your pants, pulling them down. ”look at yer wee tum, so cute”, he cooes, like he’s talking to a child.
he descends, putting his mouth on your breasts. he hungrily takes one of your breasts in his mouth, flicking his tongue on your nipple. you whimper from the sensation.
he starts suckling on your breast with loud smacking noises, drooling all over your skin. he’s fondling the other one with his hand, squeezing your nipple between his thumb and index finger.
he’s moaning, like you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted.
he’s sucking on your nipple like a baby searching for milk, desperate whimpers leaving his lips.
”imagine these full of milk”, he purrs. ”i’ll make ye me wee broodmare”, he says. ”what’s that?” you ask, teary-eyed. jimmy chuckles. ”ye’ll see”, he says, kissing your nipple.
he gives your other breast some attention as well, suckling on it passionately. ”mmh”, he moans against your tit.
you start crying harder.
”shh, shh, no, no, none o’that now”, jimmy cooes, talking as if you were a child again.
he leans in on you. ”gimme a smooch, lovey”, he purrs, waiting for a kiss.
you turn your head, your tears wetting the pillow.
jimmy follows, forcing his lips on yours. you keep crying as he kisses you.
he gently pulls down your panties, leaving them at your knee. then he starts twirling his fingers on your cunt, like he’s testing before violating you.
”n-no, stop!” you cry. jimmy gives you a toothy grin. his decayed teeth disgust you. ”ye can plead an’ cry as much as ye want, but i’ll take what’s mine”, he says.
he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them. ”mmh”, he moans. ”sweetest wee thing”, he cooes.
then he starts placing sloppy kisses down your neck and throat. he descends, suckling on yours breast again, eager tongue flicking on your nipples.
”cutest wee tum ever”, he purrs, kissing on your belly. then he licks it, tongue dragging on your skin. he descends even lower with his kisses, moving down to your lower thigh.
he rubs his cheek on your thigh, purring. ”ye smell delicious”, he says. ”a wee treat fer me”, he adds.
he licks your cunt, slow and savoring. ”mmh”, jimmy moans. ”ye’ll be me lunch”, he says.
”please stop”, you whine. ”shh, shh, lovey”, jimmy cooes, kissing your clit.
then his mouth is on you. he’s sucking hungrily at your clit, moaning while doing so. he starts humping the bed while licking into you, chasing his own release.
jimmy suddenly shoves two fingers inside your cunt as he sucks on your clit. he starts pumping them in and out of you, your squirt all over his face.
”n-no, stop”, you moan, raising your head to look at jimmy. he’s feasting on your cunt, head smushed against your wet folds.
you just cry, completely humiliated.
jimmy’s relentless, sucking on you until your legs are shaking and you’re squirting all over him.
his fingers don’t stop either as he thrusts them in you again and again.
he hooks his fingers inside you, making you moan in pleasure.
jimmy chuckles against your cunt, pleased. he loves the way your soft walls clench around his fingers.
”come fer me, lovey”, he mumbles.
your cry as you squirt on his face again, your release ripped from you. jimmy withdraws his fingers from your cunt, putting them inside his mouth.
then he leans in on your other hole, looking at it in awe. ”ye’re so cute down here”, he says, rubbing his thumb on your hole. he spreads your buttocks.
”n-not there, please”, you cry. jimmy ignores you as he gives your hole a gentle kiss, then putting his whole mouth on it.
he starts flicking his tongue on your puckered hole, twirling it around. then he pushes his tongue inside.
you let out a whimper as he licks into your ass, it feels uncomfortable at best.
jimmy moans and keeps humping the bed, turned on by your salty taste.
he pushes his tongue deeper, mouth glued to your ass.
you keep crying.
he finally stops. he licks through your ass and cunt, then he kisses your belly.
”sweetest wee thing”, he cooes.
then he pulls down his pants. he’s huge down there. it’s thick and long, the broad tip already wet with precum.
he gives you a gentle kiss before rubbing his cock on your folds, making you whimper.
then he starts pushing in, slowly. ”shite, ye’re tight”, jimmy grunts, clearly having a hard time getting inside you.
he continues, his cock slowly filling you up. your walls clench around him as he bottoms out. you let out a whimper, it hurts.
”such a wee cunt”, jimmy cooes, kissing your forehead.
he moves, almost pulling out. then he slams inside you, balls-deep. you cry out in pain. ”shh, shh, lovey, it’ll feel good soon”, jimmy cooes. then he repeats the motion. ”f-fuck”, he moans.
then he starts snapping his hips back and forth, thrusting inside you, his big cock filling every inch oh you.
you cry and whimper, biting your lip. it burns.
”ah, lovey, ye’re perfect”, jimmy moans, leaning in to kiss you. he forces his nasty mouth on you, teeth crashing against yours.
he continues kissing you while fucking into you, his balls slamming against your ass.
his cock feels hot inside you as he pounds inside again and again. jimmy’s panting, sweat forming on his forehead.
his rings are digging into the soft skin of your thighs, marking you.
”ahh, lovey, ’m gonna cum, make ye a mummy”, he purrs.
”no, please don’t!” you cry. but jimmy doesn’t listen as he buries himself deep inside you, thick ropes of cum pouring inside your ruined cunt.
jimmy crashes on top of you, his stench filling your nose, making you gag.
he lets his cock go soft inside you, then he pulls out, cum leaking on the bed.
he takes out handcuffs. you try to resist, but he ends up cuffing you to the bed.
”ah, this is how ye were meant tae be”, he says, kissing your cheek.
he stands up. ”i have stuff tae do, ye behave now while ’m gone”, he says.
you’re left alone, handcuffed to the bed, tears in your eyes.
at noon jimmy brings you lunch, feeding it to you. he doesn’t let you out of the chains for the whole day. in the evening he lets you go to the bathroom.
you cry the whole day, jimmy sometimes coming in to comfort you. he’s sweet in theory, kissing your cheeks and forehead, hushing you, whispering sweet words into your ear. ”shh, me wee babe”, he cooes. ”i’ll be takin’ care of ye now”, he says.
at night he comes into the room, immediately taking off his pants. he fucks you again, the chains rattling from the violation.
then he falls asleep next to you, snoring.
you don’t sleep. in fact you don’t sleep for a long time.
seven months later
yet another new house, this one large, with multiple buildings in the yard. sheep and chickens. the people that lived here are long gone, flayed alive.
you’re chained to the bed like always, your wrists scarred.
you’re staring at the wall, counting minutes. you’re always bored out of your mind. at least you change locations so you get to walk and see the sun.
jimmy doesn’t let you out of his sight even for a second while you’re not cuffed, especially now that you’re pregnant.
he walks beside you, following you even when you have to pee. sometimes he carries you.
jimmima and jimmy ink have grown fond of you, always making sure you’re alright. jimmima is excited for the baby, while jimmy ink looks at you with pity.
the door opens. it’s jimmy, of course. ”hi, mummy”, he cooes, sitting on the bed. he gives you a clumsy kiss.
you stay silent and completely still.
jimmy lifts up your shirt, exposing your round belly and swollen breasts.
he just stares for a while. ”look at ye, doin’ what ye’re meant to be doin’”, he purrs. ”my wee broodmare”, he says with a grin.
he presses his ear and hands on your belly, listening.
after a while you feel a kick. ”ye feel that?” jimmy says, excited. ”me wee lad is is strong already”, he says. you surely hope it’s a boy, you wouldn’t want jimmy raising your daughter with his mindset.
he starts placing kisses on your belly, stroking you with his hands.
”i had a rough day..” jimmy says. ”i need mummy tae comfort me”, he says. he takes your hand and places it on his cheek. he kisses your hand, looking at you with the most loving eyes. his little angel.
he starts fondling your breasts. you whimper. ”j-jimmy, it hurts”, you say. ”shh, lovey”, he hushes you.
he puts his mouth on your nipple, starting to suckle on it like a baby. he’s purring, clearly soothed by your breast. your milk starts leaking out, and jimmy happily drinks it. he loves the taste of your milk.
”n-not now, i’m tired..” you say. jimmy starts pouting. ”no?” he repeats with a frustrated tone. ”thought ye knew better than that”, he says.
he keeps pouting, his face slightly flushed. then he puts his mouth on your breast again. he angrily bites on your nipple, making you scream. he keeps biting and sucking your breasts, leaving behind bruises.
you’re crying from the pain. and you can’t do anything to defend yourself. you’re weak, chained up to a bed as jimmy violates you.
jimmy bites harder on your nipple, drawing blood. you squeal. ”stop!” you cry. ”this is what sayin’ no gets ye”, jimmy grunts. ”ye should be sweet tae me, i’m the father tae yer child, i take care of ye”, he says.
he licks the blood off your nipple and starts suckling on it, foul sounds leaving his lips. he’s gulping down your milk like he’s your baby, moaning.
your breasts are bruised and slightly bloody by the time he decides that he’s done.
”now stay here and think about yer behavior, no dinner fer ye tonight”, he says.
the baby needs food, but you decide to keep quiet.
jimmy stands up, murmuring something to himself. then he walks out the door, closing it behind him.
you’re left alone, exposed.
he returns at night, holding a bowl of soup. he immediately embraces you, kissing your cheek.
”i’m so sorry, lovey. i was jus’ in a bad mood”, he says.
”here, i brought ye somethin’ tae eat, ye gotta stay strong fer our babe”, he says.
he puts a spoon in front of your face. ”c’mon, say ahh”, he cooes.
you open your mouth, letting jimmy feed you.
once you’re done jimmy sets the bowl aside and kisses you on the cheek. ”good lass, eatin’ it all”, he purrs.
he looks at your bruised breasts, lower lip trembling. ”will ye forgive me?” he asks. you don’t give him any reaction. jimmy kisses you then, soft and loving.
he descends, starting to kiss your breasts gently. ”i should be gentle with ye”, he murmurs. ”ye’re gonna be the mother tae me wee lad”, he says.
he suckles at your breasts, giving them kisses in between. ”c’mon mummy, gimme some milk”, he murmurs, squeezing your nipples. your milk starts to pour out and he quickly latches onto your tit, drinking it.
you start crying, you hate when he does it.
”aww, mummy, donnae cry”, he cooes, smooching on your nipple.
he keeps suckling on you, squeezing the milk out. it’s all over his beard and chin.
his fingers wander between your legs as he pulls down your underwear.
you want to say no, but you know that he would get angry again. so you just keep on crying.
jimmy twirls his fingers on your folds, rubbing his thumb on your clit. you whimper.
”yeah? mummy’s feelin’ good?” he cooes. he places a soft kiss on your lips and starts pulling down his pants. he’s hard.
he buries his face between your tits and lines himself with your cunt, slowly pushing in.
you cry as he fills you up inch by inch, bottoming out.
he starts moving. he’s taking it slow, he wants to be gentle now that you’re pregnant.
he’s suckling on your breasts while fucking you, eagerly drinking your milk.
”ye taste so sweet”, he praises you.
he starts going slightly faster, moaning and whimpering against your breasts. ”f-fuck, mummy…” he whimpers.
his balls are slamming against your ass as he pounds inside you.
”i-i love ye so much, mummy”, he moans, leaning in to kiss you. he presses his lips onto yours, eagerly licking into you.
then he starts licking the tears off your face, pressing his lips onto your cheek after each lick.
he’s close, you can feel his cock twitching against your walls.
his pace becomes more rapid, then he stops, slamming deep inside you. you feel his warm cum pouring inside.
”i’ll keep ye pregnant all the time”, he cooes, kissing your cheek.
he pulls out and releases you from the handcuffs. then he takes you into his arms, kissing your cheek. ”sleep now, mummy. ye need rest”, he says.
but you don’t sleep, you almost never do. you feel like you’re slowly losing your mind.
two months later
”keep pushing, lovey!” jimmy says, squeezing your hand.
you’re squealing, trying to push a baby out. all the jimmies are in the room, watching. jimmima and jimmy ink are helping you deliver the baby.
”i see a head!” jimmy ink says. ”push!” jimmima says.
”ahh, fuck!” you scream, cheeks wet with tears. the bed is covered in your blood.
jimmy kisses your cheek, trying to soothe you. him being in the room makes it worse for you, though.
you scream in pain as you push for one final time. jimmy ink pulls the baby out of you.
silence.
then you hear a cry, it’s alive. ”it’s a lad!” jimmima says, excited.
you let out a relieved sigh.
jimmy gets up to cut the umbilical cord. he then takes the baby. ”wee thing”, he purrs.
”i wanna hold him!” you cry. ”yes, yes lovey”, jimmy cooes at you. he gently hands you the baby.
he’s so tiny.
”what are ye gonna name him?” jimmima asks.
”jimmy junior”, jimmy says with a satisfied grin.
you don’t say anything. after all, your opinion won’t matter.
the baby starts searching for your breast, and you help him by putting your nipple near.
”hungry wee lad, jus’ like his daddy”, jimmy chuckles.
jimmy stares as you breastfeed, so do the jimmies.
”c’mon lads, out!” jimmy says, looking at the boys with a frown.
everyone leaves, expect for jimmima.
”ye too, jimmima”, jimmy says. she huffs, but obeys.
jimmy sits on the bed, putting his arm around you. ”we’re a family now”, he says, kissing your temple.
you try your best not to cry. your son will be raised to be a killer, a murderer.
you look at the baby in your arms. you’ve thought about killing yourself, but you couldn’t leave this baby alone with jimmy and the others. he needs you.
jimmy starts giving you non-stop kisses, holding you tight. ”ye’re gonna be such a good mummy”, he purrs.
the baby soon falls asleep. jimmy takes him from you, standing up.
”no, i wanna be with him!” you cry. ”shh, lovey, i jus’ need some alone time with ye”, he says.
he takes the baby downstairs, giving it to jimmy ink.
then he returns.
you’re crying. ”shh, shh, mummy”, jimmy cooes. he climbs on top of you, and starts clumsily kissing on your nipples. ”i’m hungry too”, he says. ”it’s for the baby!” you whine. ”’s fer me too”, jimmy says.
he starts suckling on your milk, squeezing your breasts with his hands.
he’s slurping loud, drooling all over your skin.
you feel uneasy.
then you see it.
a shadow in the corner of the room.
”j-jimmy!” you scream.
”what is is, lovey?” jimmy asks you. you point at the shadow. jimmy turns around. ”nothing there, mummy”, he says.
something happens. suddenly you don’t recognize the man on top of you. he has a familiar face, yet it seems wrong.
you let out a scream.
”hey, hey, what is it?” he asks. must be a demon.
”stay away!” you yell.
then everything goes black, time stops for a while.
you wake up in the dark, a man besides you. you don’t recognize him.
he looks evil, dangerous. you feel yourself panicking. you don’t know where you are.
and wait.
who are you?
you have no idea what your name is.
”what’s the matter, lovey?” the man speaks.
”w-who are you? where am i?” you ask, terrified.
the man looks confused.
”ye know me, lovey”, he says.
you start squirming, but soon you notice that you’re cuffed to the bed.
the man must be the devil himself, you’re sure of it.
your head is spinning, everything feels unfocused, blurry.
the man puts his palm on your forehead. ”must be the labor”, he murmurs.
a girl steps into the room, holding something.
”how’s mummy doin’?” she asks.
”she’s a bit confused, ’s all”, the man says.
”here, yer wee lad”, the girl says, handing you it.
a demon.
skin red and bloody, black horns growing from it’s head.
”no!” you scream, pushing it away.
the man quickly takes the demon into his arms.
”what the hell is wrong with ye?” he asks, clearly concerned. he must be manipulating you.
they’re all lying to you, manipulating you.
you start crying hysterically.
”i want my mom!” you cry.
the man looks at you with a pout. ”poor wee thing, ye haveaned been sleepin’, have ye?” he says. ”old nick will know what to do”, he murmurs.
”she needs to sleep”, the girl says.
you can’t sleep. they’ll kill you if you sleep, you’re sure of it.
”leave us”, the man says. ”’n take jimmy junior”, he adds.
the girl takes the demon and walks out the door, closing it behind her.
”old nick is speakin’ tae me”, the man, the devil says. ”he says that yer body needs to remember”, he says. ”i always do as me father commands”, he says.
he suddenly climbs on top of you.
”no!” you scream, terrified. you’re shaking, sweating.
”shh, wee thing. let me remind ye”, he cooes.
he forces his lips on yours, grabbing your face so that you have no choice but to keep still.
you bite on his lower lip. he huffs, but doesn’t pull away.
he continues the kiss while sliding his hand between your legs. you notice that you’re not wearing anything. you feel pain as he twirls his fingers on yours cunt. it feel wet, wrong.
”stop!” you squeal. the room is spinning around you.
”shh”, the man whispers. he breaks the kiss, looking at you. he looks wrong. evil. like someone you know but don’t. you swear that his eyes are glowing red.
he presses wet kisses down your neck while shoving down his pants and boxers.
”oh, god”, you whimper. ”god isn’t here, ’s jus’ me”, the man says.
he rubs his cock on your cunt, you feel excruciating pain. ”it hurts!” you scream. ”aye, ye jus’ gave birth. but i need tae do this”, he says.
he pushes inside. you scream and cry, your whole body trembling.
you can’t believe it. you’re being raped by the devil.
he starts moving, slamming inside your ruined cunt.
”ye feel that? ’s me”, the man says, placing a kiss on your forehead.
you squeal like a pig, the pain sharp and throbbing.
each thrust feels like your cunt ripping in half.
blood gushes out of you on his cock, he doesn’t seem to mind.
you stare at the ceiling, your vision blurry from all the tears. why has god abandoned you?
the devil is moaning on top of you, placing damp kisses on your throat.
”i love ye, remember that”, he says.
this cannot be love. you understand that much.
you drift away for a minute, leaving your body. it’s like you’re watching yourself from afar.
the only thing you feel is pain, the ringing in your ears.
the devil stops after a while, his seed pouring inside you. it burns.
he gives you a kiss and pulls out, then he settles next to you. ”sleep now, lovey”, he whispers.
you don’t. you’re can’t.
the days go by in a haze. you don’t know where you are and why.
you’re forced to breastfeed the demon baby. the man drinks from your tits as well, often fucking you afterwards.
at times you see other people, but you don’t recognize them at all.
your sleep is always short, if you get any sleep at all. often you just lay awake at night, the devil next to you.
the demon baby screams and cries a lot. you can’t stand it. it’s evil.
you often see the man holding the baby, hushing and rocking it in his arms.
he talks to you a lot. but you never remember what about. you always forget about yesterday.
he seems concerned. one day you see him cry, but you forget about that as well.
you’re so tired tonight. your body feels weak, numb.
you look at the devil in your arms, he’s crying against your skin.
you close your eyes. you wonder what it’d be like to die.
you sleep for the whole day.
you wake up to the sun shining in your eyes. you don’t recognize the room you’re in.
you try standing up, but you immediately fall down.
the door opens.
jimmy.
he rushes to help you back on the bed.
”where’s my baby?” you immediately ask.
jimmy lets out a gasp.
”ye remember?” he asks.
”of course i remember”, you say.
”lovey, ye were out of it fer a week”, he says. ”ye dinnae even wanna hold jimmy junior”, he says.
you go silent. you remember moments, flashes. of your pain, of being scared.
”i-i was so scared, jimmy”, you say, tears starting to form in your eyes.
”aye, lovey, i know”, jimmy says, taking you into his arms. he kisses you, deep and loving. you kiss him back. you’re relieved, you feel safe. even his stench feels comforting now.
”i’ll go get jimmy junior”, he says, standing up.
you grab his arm. ”don’t go!” you say. jimmy kisses your forehead. ”shh, lovey, i’ll stay”, he cooes.
”jimmima!” he yells. soon you see a familiar face stepping into the room, holding your crying baby.
”is she…” jimmima asks. jimmy nods, smiling.
jimmima lets out a happy squeal. ”we were so worried!” she says. ”we thought old nick was punishing us”, she says.
she gives you the baby, that immediately starts searching for food.
the baby stops crying immediately as you start breastfeeding.
jimmy has tears in his eyes. ”i was sure ye were gone forever”, he says, kissing your cheek.
you look at your baby, and are immediately filled with love.
jimmy climbs into the bed with you, wrapping an arm around you.
”leave us”, he says to jimmima. jimmima nods, stepping out the door.
soon you hear the jimmies cheering downstairs.
you smile.
”i love ye so much”, jimmy says, petting your hair.
you stay silent for a while. then you say it.
”i love you too”
OKAY this was a WEIRD birthday present idk what possessed me to write something like this i swear it started out as relatively normal and then it SPIRALED
𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐤 comes back from a kill with blood on his shirt and dirt on his boots, slipping into your house without knocking now that you’ve invited him in once. (wc : 3.1k)
— ♡ contents unannounced home entry (weirdo alert). blood. unprotected p in v. rough sex. doggystyle. possessive/animalistic behavior. begging. praise. overstimulation. multiple orgasms. belly bulge if you squint. creampie. licking / light biting. mdni 18+
゛notes ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆ ahem yes i did just write this after i got that ask… i couldn’t help it i need him so badddd. this is lowkey a pt2 to this, but it could be read as a standalone (there’s only very brief mentions of their last sexual encounter)
The door doesn’t creak when it opens. It used to, before he put his hands on the hinges one evening and “fixed” it with a little too much care, almost proud to show you how quiet he could make himself if he wanted. Now it moves without a sound, latch turning, wood easing inward, and the first thing that breaks the silence is the faint shift of air as he steps over the threshold.
You sleep through the first footstep, a dragged, uneven weight against the floorboards, but the second one clips right under your dreams.
The creak by the hall table, the way glass rattles in its frame, the way the air turns thick and metallic on your tongue.
You wake up halfway, body slow. The house does not feel empty.
There is a wet sound in the dark. Not loud, but close. The scrape of something damp against rough wood, fingers maybe, leaving streaks along the wall. Then—breathing. Too heavy to be your own, too close to be outside. Drawn through flared nostrils, shuddering back out over teeth that never quite sit right behind his lips. You hear the huff of it, short and sharp, like he’s scenting the hallway, scenting you.
“Remmick?” Your voice is rough with sleep, small in the room.
He doesn’t answer at first. You hear the door click shut behind him instead, a deliberate press of metal fitting home. The faint shuffle as he works the lock. A smear of shadow slips along your doorway before you see him properly, blocking the pale spill of moonlight from the hall. Broad shoulders in the frame, hair wild and clumped, chest moving like he just finished running.
“You sleepin’ light tonight, sweetheart.” His voice is frayed, lower than usual, thick with something you taste on the back of your tongue before the scent really hits you. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
He’s lying. He came in wanting you awake.
You push up on your elbows, sheets sliding down your back, sticking a little where sweat cooled while you slept.
Your eyes adjust in pieces: the pale flash of his shirt gone dark and slick across the front, the glint along his forearms where something still-wet catches the moon from the window. Blood has dried rusty at the collar of his shirt, speckled his face in a pattern that looks almost freckled until you realize none of those marks were there a few days ago.
“Remmick.” This time your voice is clearer, irritation cutting through the fog. “You can’t just walk in here.”
He takes a step toward the bed, boots leaving faint, damp prints on the worn floorboards. His jaw works, tongue swiping quick along his lower lip as if he’s chasing a taste he isn’t done with. When he exhales, the air between you smells like iron and sweat and something hot from outside, his breath roughing over you in warm bursts. He huffs once, nostrils flaring like he’s trying to drag you deeper into his lungs.
“You fresh from a kill?”
His gaze flicks down to his shirt, to his hands, then back to your face. There’s a brief shadow of something that might be shame, but it is swallowed quick under a different hunger.
“Needed it,” he says simply. “Got carried away, maybe. Been thinkin’ ‘bout you all week, couldn’t get the taste of last time out my head. Needed somethin’ in between.” His fingers curl, flex, like they remember what they did. “But that didn’t help near enough.”
“Remmick,” you whisper, a warning and a plea both.
He hears both.
“You mad at me?” His knee sinks into the mattress as he braces one hand beside your hip, bending down, his chest hovering over yours.
The scent of him crowds everything else out, heavy and raw, layered over the trace of your perfume that sticks to him even days later. His breath breaks over your cheek in hot, shaky huffs, like he can’t quite calm himself enough to breathe normally. “You gonna send me back out into that dark after I’ve been thinkin’ about you every mile of it?”
“You can’t just come in while I’m asleep.” The protest comes out weak, softened at the edges by the way your body reacts to his nearness. “I… I didn’t tell you you could.”
He dips his head, lips brushing the edge of your jaw. You feel the way he inhales there, a long draw against your skin like he’s trying to drink from your pulse.
“You gave me your threshold,” he murmurs, voice rasping against your throat. “Door knows me now. House knows me. You told me to come in. That don’t just vanish.” His mouth skims higher, toward your ear. “If you don’t want me here, say the word. I’ll go stand in that field and howl ‘til dawn instead.”
You picture him out there, wild-eyed in the rows, hands empty, jaw still stained with someone else’s blood, staring back at the glow of your window as he paces and huffs steam into the night. The thought twists something hot and deep inside you, not fear so much as recognition. You reach up and grip the front of his ruined shirt without meaning to, fingers pressing into the damp fabric at his chest.
He feels the change in you instantly.
“There she is,” he breathes, relief and need tangled together. “Knew you didn’t drag me over that threshold just for one night.”
His mouth finds yours before you can answer, tongue sweeping past your parted lips in one messy, claiming stroke.
He tastes like copper and salt and the faint, ghost-sweet trace of whatever he bit into out there, but underneath it all is him—familiar and something your body knows now.
His kiss is too deep for a first kiss of the night, too desperate; he groans into you like he’s been starving and finally found something he can actually keep, breath puffing warm and uneven against your tongue.
Your fingers fist tighter in his shirt. You pull him down. The sheet tangles around your hips as he shifts his weight, one hand sliding up your thigh, rough thumb dragging the hem of your nightgown higher and higher.
By the time his palm cups the curve of your ass, you’re breathing hard against his mouth, your earlier annoyance drowned under the rush in your veins.
“Remmick,” you gasp, breaking the kiss as his fingers squeeze. “You… you’re filthy.”
“Gonna get you dirty too,” he says, voice gone hoarse with the promise, a little pant sliding between the words. “You’ll forgive me.”
His hands say more than the words do. They are already urging you, turning you, pressing at your hip, your shoulder. He guides you over like he’s done it a hundred times in his head, face-first into the pillows, nightgown rucked up around your waist.
The mattress dips as he follows, chest fitting along your back, weight settling over you in a way that pins you there without making you feel trapped. His booted feet slide further up the bed, one knee digging between your thighs.
“Spread ‘em for me,” he murmurs against your ear, his breath thick. “Let me see what I came all this way for.”
You know you could say no. You know he would pull back if you asked, would force himself upright and drag all that wildness out of your house and into the dark. You don’t say it.
Instead, you shift your knees wider, cheek pressed into the warm indentation your head left in the pillow, hands clutching the sheets.
Air ghosts over the backs of your thighs as he pushes your nightgown fully up, baring you completely. He hisses through his teeth, a raw, appreciative sound that makes your toes curl, then exhales hard at your spine, breath hot and damp as if he can’t stop himself from scenting you again.
“Look at you,” he groans, one hand smoothing up the back of your thigh until his thumb drags along your inner flesh, close to where you’re already starting to grow slick. “Always so pretty for me. I ain’t even touched you proper and you’re already gettin’ wet.”
“Been asleep,” you mumble into the pillow, flustered.
“Think you know what you dream about? I do.” He laughs quietly, breathy, and dips his head to your neck. “I hear it all over your heartbeat.”
His tongue finds your skin there, hot and wet, licking up a lazy stripe from the base of your neck to the hinge of your jaw. You feel the huff of his breath between each lap, like he’s panting against you as he chases your taste. You shiver hard, breath catching. He does it again, longer, teeth scraping lightly this time, a soft growl rumbling in his chest as he tastes salt and heat.
“Remmick,” you whine, hips rolling back involuntarily. “You’re… you’re makin’ a mess of me.”
“I ain’t even started,” he pants, a quick, hungry breath against the shell of your ear.
He fumbles with his pants behind you, cursing under his breath when the buttons don’t come quick enough for the state he’s in.
You can feel him moving, the bump and drag of his knuckles against your ass as he frees himself. When his cock settles heavy against the curve of you, hot and slick at the tip, you whine outright.
He nudges between your thighs, base heavy against the swell of your cheeks, head sliding down until he finds your entrance in one easy, obscene pass. He groans into your neck, breath shuddering in a rough huff that fans over your shoulder.
“Always so ready,” he whispers like a prayer. “You’re doin’ me in, darlin’. I swear you are.”
He pushes in slow at first, just enough to breach you, the thick head stretching you open. Your walls clutch around him, muscle yielding with that sweet ache you missed.
You hear his reaction right in your ear—broken exhale, a helpless whimper that drags low and raw across your nerves, followed by a harsh pant against your neck, his nose pressing in as if he’s trying to bury himself in your scent while his body sinks into yours.
“Oh, you’re tight,” he chokes. “Holdin’ on to me like you don’t wanna let me go.”
You whine, fingers twisting in the sheet. “Don’t want to.”
That does it for him.
His hips press forward in one steady, unstoppable glide until he’s buried, pelvis flush to your ass. The full length of him fills you, hot and heavy, and your breath leaves in a long, gasping moan.
He goes still for one heartbeat, chest crushed to your back, hands gripping your hips so hard you know he’ll leave bruises. His breathing comes in shorter bursts now, little huffs against the back of your neck as he tries to steady himself and fails.
“Jesus,” he groans, words breaking apart. “Jesus, girl. I’m in, I’m in, I’m in—”
He starts to move before he’s even finished saying it. The first thrust is deep and measured, dragging himself almost all the way out just to sink back to the hilt, savoring the catch of your body around him. The second is faster, harder. By the third, he’s lost the pretense of restraint.
He drives into you with his full weight, hips cracking against the round of your ass. Each slam of his pelvis sends his balls smacking into your clit, a wet, heavy slap that makes your thighs quake. The impact jars your whole body, cheek grinding into the pillow with every forward surge, the mattress squeaking in protest.
“Oh—oh, God,” you gasp, voice climbing higher. “Remmick—”
“Yeah?” he pants in your ear, words ragged, hair falling over his forehead to tickle your temple. His breath saws in and out over the curve where your neck meets your shoulder. “That good? Tell me.”
His tongue is on your neck again before you can answer, licking along the bend of it with messy, eager passes between thrusts. He laps at the thin sheen of sweat there, at the fluttering pulse under your skin, panting against you. Every time he pulls back to breathe, he makes some noise—soft whine, desperate little grunt, a cracked groan that sounds like it’s being ripped out of him, all of it spilling right into your ear.
“Talk to me,” he begs, hips pistoning. “Please. Tell me how it feels. I need to hear it.”
“It’s—ah—good,” you manage, voice shaking. “Feels… feels so good, Remmick. You’re so deep.”
“Yeah,” he says, almost disbelieving. “Yeah, I am. You’re takin’ it all, like a good girl, that’s right.” His pace somehow quickens, thrusts hammering into that same spot inside you until pressure coils tight in your belly. “Been thinkin’ ‘bout this all night. All week. Me, right here. You, facin’ down in your sheets, lettin’ me use you.”
The words sink into your spine like teeth. Your toes curl, your cunt milking his cock as the weight of him continues to slap relentlessly against your clit. The combination of deep, unyielding thrusts and that sharp little smack of stimulation drags you closer and closer to the edge with dizzying speed.
His breath grows rougher, more animal than man, hot huffs and low growls spilling against your neck each time he slams into you.
“Don’t… don’t stop,” you whimper, hips pushing back to meet him despite the stretch. “Please, don’t stop.”
He whines, honest and wrecked. “You ask me like that, I never will.”
His chest presses more firmly to your back, his weight pinning you sweetly into the mattress. One of his hands abandons your hip to slide up your side, fingers curving beneath the nightgown to grab your breast, calloused thumb rolling your nipple in time with his thrusts. His teeth scrape your shoulder through the thin fabric, tongue darting out again and again.
“Come for me,” he rasps. “Let me feel you go. I wanna know what you sound like when you fall apart with my cock in you.”
You break on the next few strokes, climax rolling over you sharp and hot. Your entire body seizes around him, walls clamping down so tight he stutters, hips jerking. A cry tears out of you, muffled in the pillow, followed by a stream of broken little sounds as the orgasm pulses through your muscles.
He moans like he’s the one coming, voice splitting on your name. “That’s it, that’s it—oh, God, you’re squeezin’ me, you’re gonna… you’re gonna make me—”
He doesn’t pull out. He shoves in deeper instead, somehow, angle changing just enough that you feel him everywhere. You feel another orgasm threatening just from the way he continues to thrust through the first one, unrelenting. Overstimulation sharpens every sensation until your eyes sting, and his huffing breath at your neck makes it worse, each exhale a hot rush over oversensitive skin.
“Remmick,” you whine, half sob, half plea. “I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” he pants, hand sliding down from your breast to press on your lower belly, feeling himself move inside you. “I know you can. You’re takin’ it, look at that. Gonna give me another, aren’t you? Gonna let me fuck you ‘til you forget what you were mad about?”
He’s babbling now, words spilling out between grunts as his rhythm turns almost frantic. His mouth is back at your neck, sucking over the frantic flutter as he groans against the place your pulse races for him.
“You’re mine,” he groans. “You hear me? You let me in, that makes you mine. My bed, my girl, my sweet little body shakin’ under me. Beggin’ for me not to stop while you tell yourself you oughta be mad.”
You come again, hard, with a sob that tears through the air. This one is rougher, sharper, your limbs trembling as release crashes down a second time. Your vision goes white at the edges. Your cunt spasms wildly around him, and he loses whatever fragile grip he had left.
“Oh, fuck—oh, I’m there, I’m there,” he gasps against your skin, voice breaking into a hoarse, animal sound. “Gonna come. Gonna fill you up, you want that? Say you want it. Please—please—”
“Yes,” you choke, barely more than a breath. “Want it—want you—”
He slams in deep and stays there, cock throbbing inside you as his release hits. He cries out, loud and unrestrained, voice breaking on a sound that edges toward a growl. Heat floods you in heavy pulses, thick and searing, filling every place you’re clenching around him.
His hips jerk through it, small, helpless thrusts that grind his balls against your oversensitive clit, drawing out the last shivers of your orgasm while his spills into you. Each pulse drags a rough, shuddering breath out of him, his mouth open against your neck as he moans through the aftershocks.
He pants into your neck, body shaking, tongue darting out once more to taste your damp skin. “Oh, God. Oh, God, I… I got you all messy now,” he stammers, half-laugh, half-moan. “Leakin’ all over your bed.”
You feel it, slow and filthy, his spend slipping past where you’re still wrapped around him, sliding down the backs of your thighs. Your muscles flutter, exhausted, but he’s still hard inside you, still thick and heavy and present, each tiny twitch making you whine.
“Remmick,” you murmur, breathless, a little dazed. “You came in without askin’.”
He huffs a laugh against your skin, breath puffing warm over the bite of his earlier kisses. “You gonna hold that over me long?” He shifts his weight, cock twitching, and you gasp again at the overstimulated pull. “Or you gonna let me make it up to you?”
You know what he means. His body gives it away—the way his hips give a tiny, testing roll, the way his cock refuses to soften, the way his hand on your belly tightens like he’s already bracing for another round. His breath is still rough and eager at your neck, little animal huffs smoothing into something steadier but no less hungry.
You shiver exhausted and aching and full, and still your answer comes easy.
“Make it up to me,” you whisper, cheek pressed against the pillow.
He groans, raw and grateful, teeth grazing your neck before his tongue soothes the sting, and his breath fans warm over your skin as he pulls back just enough to start moving again.
Summary: Jimmy Crystal awakens from a wretched nightmare. One where he'd grown up alone, become a sadistic cult leader, and killed people because the voice in his head told him to. He wakes up still feeling the nails in his wrists. Thankfully, you are there to comfort him.
Content Warning: Contains smut (p in v sex) and mentions of skinning, torture, disembowelments.
Nightmares were a staple in the world you lived in. The infected—or demons, as Jimmy had always called them—had a way of forcing their way into one's mind. And if their blood-red eyes and bone-chilling shrieks didn't haunt your dreams, some of your fellow survivors did. Plenty of newcomers and transplants in your community had stories about raiders, cannibals, cults, and more. Stories you personally didn't want your children to hear.
But when Jimmy woke up with a jolt, snapping you out of your slumber, you instantly knew something was wrong.
He was panting, nearly wheezing. Frantically touching his wrists as though searching for wounds. And crying like a child. Big, wet gulps that instantly yanked at your heartstrings.
"Jimmy? Sweetheart?" you placed a hand on his shoulder. He flinched, his cries halting. For a moment, his watering eyes seemed to merely look through you. Then, whatever he'd been dreaming of relented enough for him to recognize you. "Oh, (y/n), honey..." His voice was nothing like the smooth, rich baritone that preached your people for hours, read fairy tales to your children, and sang softly to you. It was brittle. Weak.
You pushed an errant lock out of his face, getting the best view you could in your dim bedroom. "Are you okay?" Your gaze flickered to his wrists, but found only smooth, pale skin.
Jimmy opened his mouth, but whatever answer he would've given you was lost to fresh sorrow.
"Oh, baby..." He let you pull him into your arms, hiding his face in your neck like it was the only safe place in the world. Already, you could feel hot tears soaking into your skin. Could hear the cries he was barely muffling. You held him close, cupping the back of his head and rubbing his back.
All the while, you tried to keep your own tears in check. This was the man who'd been your husband for nearly five years now. Who'd found you in the wilderness and brought you here, to the best home you'd ever had. Who'd given you two beautiful children. You'd seen him command his Fingers, take down infected, and execute justice with nary a twitch in his jaw. And now, he was crying with a fear that seemed almost too profound, too intense, to expel.
A part of you was tempted to call his father, Ian, and get him to make Jimmy. Something to help him sleep, or at least calm him down. Why not? Ian had created a concoction that kept the voice in Jimmy's head quiet. Comparatively, a sleeping mixture would've been child's play.
"It's okay," you kept saying, using the same tone you employed with the kids when they were littler, "you're all right. I'm here. I'm right here. Shh, shh..."
Eventually, Jimmy's sobs died down to the occasional sniffle. Shuddering against you as though gripped by a fever, he kissed and nuzzled your saturated neck. "M'sorry, dovey," he managed to say through his tears. "I just... I..."
"It's all right," you promised him, tucking some hair behind his ear. "Just breathe, okay?"
Jimmy nodded, taking one shuddering breath after another. You breathed with him, using the edge of a blanket to wipe his face as best you could.
"I..." Jimmy trailed off, cleared his throat, and tried again. "I dreamed I..."
"You don't have to talk about it now," you cut him off gently, fearing he might get upset again. "It can wait until tomorrow."
"No, I... I can do it." Jimmy shifted so that he wasn't distributing so much of his body weight on you. You moved along with him, making sure that he stayed in your arms. Your legs tangled together, your hearts beating in gentle synchrony.
Finally, Jimmy spoke. "I dreamed I..." he shuddered, "... was a monster."
You kissed his forehead. "I've dreamed of being an infected, too." It'd been horrible, too. You'd been trapped in your own body, unable to stop yourself from tearing other living things to pieces.
Later, Ian had shared his two cents with you: That the infected were suffering from psychosis. That they looked at us and saw monsters. You hadn't believed it until he'd healed Samson, who was now your community's best warrior and one-man patrol unit. On occasion, you'd even let him watch the children while you and Jimmy went out on a hunt or patrol.
Ian still regretted not having enough medical supplies to make the cure more readily available. The fact that the rest of the world had washed its hands of the UK didn't help. Surely, they would've had the tools he needed to make more. But at least he'd saved Samson, and that had to count for something.
Jimmy shook his head. "No," he rasped. "I... I wasn't infected. I was human." He huffed. "Barely." The disgust in his tone, bordering on venomous, was one you'd rarely heard from him.
That was when you understood: However horrible his dream had been, he had to talk about it. Get it out, lest it rot him from within.
You patted his back. "Do you want me to turn on the light?"
Jimmy shook his head. "No, thanks, lovey. Some things're easier t'say in the dark."
"That's true." You began to comb his hair with your fingers, knowing how it soothed him. "Go ahead, honey. I'm listening."
Jimmy gave your jaw a tender kiss, silently showing his appreciation, before speaking once more. "I dreamed way, way back. On the day the demons came. Mostly, it started the same. The strange noises drownin' out the sounds o' the telly. The blood. Me mum tellin' me to run. Me... me father tellin' me it's the end o' days and givin' me that necklace."
You nodded, both to show that you were listening and to silently recall the tale yourself.
In a way, you'd be lucky: You'd only been about two when the virus came. Whatever you'd witnessed was stored away in the darkest corners of your mind—and it could stay there forever, as far as you were concerned. Jimmy? He'd been eight. Just old enough to remember not only the Fall, but the Before a bit as well. And sometimes, you both knew, memory could be a curse as well as a blessing.
"But here's where the story changed," Jimmy recounted, his tone more contemplative than scared now. "I... I never met Ian. He never took me in. I... I wandered the Highlands for years, dodgin' infected and survivors by the skin o' me teeth."
"All by yourself?" You nuzzled his hair, if only to dispel the mental picture. It'd only been a dream, but it was still upsetting. "I'm sorry, honey."
Jimmy swallowed. "Aye. And... and I grew up into a beast, (y/n)." His voice trembled once again, and you rubbed his back. Ready to spring back into action if the dream overwhelmed him once more. "I... I killed people. Skinned 'em. Disemboweled 'em. Called it 'charity'. Made me Fingers, who were all me for some reason, fight tae the death whenever we found a promisin' new fighter. Did things that'd make a saint swear. I..."
You could feel tears once again dampening your skin.
Then, in a terrible whisper, Jimmy said, "I stabbed me father, darlin'."
That made even you go rigid. Ian Kelson was one of the kindest people you'd ever met. He was a sweet, doting grandfather to your children, helped anyone who came to him with a sprained ankle or a broken bone, and was largely responsible for Jimmy turning out the way he had. In a world that gorged on blood and violence, Ian had taught Jimmy kindness and empathy. It'd been that very empathy that'd compelled Jimmy to save you back when you'd been but a stranger.
To imagine him dead, even in a dream, made you shiver.
But it'd been a different Jimmy, not the one cocooned in your arms. That was why your voice was free of judgment when you asked, "Why?"
Jimmy's throat worked, as though dislodging the shameful answer. "'Cause he wasn't me father in the dream. I thought Satan was, imagine that. Called him 'Old Nick'. Thought the voice was his. I only met Da once in me dream. He was kind t'me, but what did I do? Made him put on a charade for me Fingers, made 'em think he was Satan, and then stabbed him when he went off-script."
Jimmy began to cry anew, and you cradled him to your chest. Hushed him gently. Wiped his tears with the heel of your hand. "It's okay, sweetie," you whispered. "Your dad's fine. He's just pulling an all-nighter in his lab, like always."
"I-I know, but..." you could hear him grinding his teeth, your own jaw aching in sympathy, "... but it felt so real."
"I know, baby," you cupped his cheek, wiping away errant tears.
Jimmy took a few ragged breaths before forcing out the rest of his story. "Then, I... I was crucified, lovey. Upside-down. Kellie—'cept I called her 'Jimmy Ink'—and a boy I never saw drove those nails in deep. Tied me torso up. Left me on an upside-down cross. Cried and whined on it, I did. Then, Samson came and took Father away, leavin' me alone. And... and an infected came, and..." He trailed off.
You cupped Jimmy's chin, gently guiding his gaze to meet yours. "Sweetheart," you said, "that wasn't you. None of it happened. You didn't kill your father. You never skinned or disemboweled anyone. You didn't die so miserably. You're right here, in our bed, with your father in his lab and our children sleeping downstairs."
"I know, but..." Jimmy let out a trembling sigh, giving your fingers an absentminded kiss, "... when I was there, I... I was that man."
"But you're not," you insisted, your voice firm but gentle. "You're my Jimmy. You're the leader of this community. You're strong, fair, kind, and smart." You gave him a small smile. "You're the best man I know, and the love of my goddamn life."
Jimmy's face crumpled. "And yer the love o' mine." He pushed himself forward, his lips skimming yours. Your hand moved from his chin to his cheek, holding it tenderly. Jimmy's hand found yours, pressing it into his skin.
The two of you spent the next few minutes kissing, caressing each other's faces and combing back one another's hair. It was a conversation made entirely through touch and soft breaths. A mutual reassurance.
Then, steadily, it became something else. Something more passionate.
You slipped your tongue into Jimmy's mouth. He mapped out your body with his hands, treating every inch as though it were holy. Your breaths grew heavier. Hotter. Mingling in the dark air.
You could feel the faint stirrings of desire sparking deep within you. Feel your heart thudding harder against your ribs and your head getting fuzzy.
Even so, you cupped Jimmy's face and gently pried him off you. "Wait," you whispered. "Wait."
Jimmy stopped, his eyes scanning yours. "Somethin' wrong, bonnie?"
"No," you shook your head. "I just... You were really upset, honey. I don't want you to feel like you have to do anything with me."
"I don't," Jimmy promised. He kissed one of your palms, and then the other. "I just... I love ya so much, and I love all this, our life, it's so much better than the one in the dream, I..." He gave a small laugh, "... I just wanted to celebrate it. Wit' ye."
Slowly, you nodded. "Okay. But only if you're sure."
Jimmy smiled at you, revealing his crooked and less than spotless teeth. Dear Ian had taught his adopted son many things, but one lesson he'd never been able to impose on Jimmy was oral hygiene. But fuck it, you loved him anyway.
Leaning in, he whispered, "I'm sure, love," on your lips right before he claimed them in another searing kiss.
Your lips remained firmly locked as you freed each other of your clothing. Jimmy pulled your cotton nightgown over your head while you undid the buttons of his purple silk pajamas—a find he'd immediately snatched up while scavenging in a luxury hotel— and helped him shimmy out of the bottoms.
The moment he was free, he took your hand and brought it to his groin. Understanding immediately, you began to stroke him. Tight and slow, just the way he liked it. He moaned into your mouth, turning the sparks in your belly into a small but bright fire. His hands found your breasts, kneading them lovingly. His thumbs brushed your nipples, making you gasp in your kiss and stroke him harder, caressing the head in a way you knew drove him wild.
"So good, dove," he whispered against your lips. "Y'make me feel so good..."
You smiled in the kiss. "Funny," you remarked, your free hand cupping his cheek, "I was about to tell you the same thing."
Jimmy whimpered against your lips pressing kissing you again, your tongues locked in a delicate dance.
Your bodies moved in tandem, guided by instinct and desire. Before you knew it, you were straddling him, his hard cock pressingly against your belly. The head was lobster-red and weeping precum.
As the kiss broke and you drew back, you giggled at what you saw: Jimmy, thoroughly drunk on you. His eyes were glazed, his cheeks flushed, and his lips drawn in a wide, dopey smile. "I love ye," he panted, his tone as soft as feathers.
Your heart did a backflip. Even after almost five years of marriage, those three little words made you feel warm like no tea or campfire ever could. Adjusting your position, you took both his hands. Maintaining eye contact, you kissed his wrists. Right where, in his dream, the nails had driven through his flesh. "I love y'too. With all me heart."
Jimmy's eyes watered once again, but he was still smiling. "Put me inside ye, lassie," he murmured. "Right where I belong."
You couldn't bring yourself to disagree. Maintaining eye contact the entire time, you took Jimmy's cock in your hand and angled it towards your entrance. Slowly, carefully, you lowered yourself onto it. Let your body swallow that familiar shape, inch by precious inch.
"Fuck," Jimmy groaned, his head dropping back on the pillow. His hands flew to your hips. Not to control. Not to squeeze. Just to hold on for dear life. Your hands covered his. Trying to anchor him further as you bottomed out. You moaned at the feel of him stretching you, of his length filling out every crevice.
"Feel that?" Jimmy gasped. "S'for ye, angel. All o' it."
"Mine," you whispered back, unable to stop yourself. You began to ride him then, starting off slow. Almost testing.
Bliss washed over Jimmy's expression. His thighs twitches under you. "Let go, lassie. Fuck yerself on me, gorgeous."
You grinned. "Oh, I intend to, sweetie." You picked up the pace, if only slightly. Ground your hips against his. Tightened your muscles around his length.
"God, look at ye," Jimmy remarked, his voice rough with want. "Ridin' me like a queen. That's me girl. Takin' charge."
You moaned at the praise, squeezing his fingers as you rode him. Leaned your head back, letting yourself simmer in the heat of your lovemaking.
Jimmy began to thrust into you, fingers flexing on your hips and eyes shining like polished coins. He met your every moan and gasp with one of his own, loud and shameless. Your noises, combined with the slapping of skin against skin and the bedframe clanging against the wall, made for a song meant for lovers in the dark.
You grabbed Jimmy's hand, hoisting him in a sitting position. The moment he was in your range, you wrapped your arms around him and gave him a passionate kiss. One that he returned wholeheartedly, his hips jerking to meet yours.
Your senses were spiraling, utterly lost to the fever of Jimmy and the ache of being stretched and filled. The small fire within you grew, singeing anything beyond the here and now.
"So good," you pressed your mouth to his temple. "You feel so damn good, Jimmy... so hard, so perfect for me..."
"So're ye," Jimmy moaned, his hand sliding down your bodies. "Ye open up so well f'me... Takin' me so well... Ye were made for me, and I was made for ye..."
His fingers found your clit, rotating in tight little circles.
You cried out, writhing against him, and rode him with a ferocity that surprised even you. Chasing nirvana for you both.
All too soon, your body began to show telltale signs. The tremor of your hips. The gasps rattling through your lungs. The shivers down your spine.
Jimmy's, too. His breath was catching. His rhythm turning erratic. His almost pained expression.
But he kept pushing through. Stroking your clit with steadfast precision, he brought his lips to your ear. "Yer almost there, aren'tcha?" He kissed your earlobe. "Come wit' me, love."
You nodded frantically, your hips rocking in tandem with his thrusts. You kissed him, hard and deep, as the flames beneath your skin climbed ever higher. Your body locked. Your toes curled.
A low, broken cry burst from your lips as your orgasm took you hard and fast. Your release soaked your thighs and his, your hips jerking uncontrollably, your vision abandoning you for the briefest of instances.
"So beautiful," Jimmy panted, pounding into you with abandon, "my wife, my darlin', I lo—oh—" he spilled thick inside you while his hips kept grinding, fucking his seed into you so you could feel it all. Every spurt. Every throb.
You collapsed onto your bed, your hands still roaming each other's bodies in gentle strokes. The sheets were damp, your skins were sweaty, and the air smelled of sex. It was perfect.
Jimmy kissed you all over, making you giggle. He kissed your pulse, which was fluttering wildly beneath his lips. Your forehead. Your eyelids. Your cheeks. And your mouth. Again and again, your mouth. Laughing softly as he ravished you.
"(Y/n), my (y/n)," he muttered against your flesh, kissing between each word. "I love ye, I love ye... I love ye wit' all I am." He drew back, gazing at you with eyes still slightly damp and bloodshot from crying. "I'd endure a thousand crucifixes just t'be near ye."
His words made tears of your own gather in your eyes. You cradled his face in your hands and brought your foreheads together. "You won't have to."
Jimmy fell asleep soon after that, his head resting on your chest and his arms coiled securely around your waist. You stayed awake a while longer, going back to combing his hair with your fingers and nuzzling the crown of his head. Waiting to see if any more nightmares would come.
