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Can do you one of reader in a relationship with Remmick and Vampire!Stack and Mary are like big brother and sister energy to reader since she's with Remmick❤️

Reader is mistreated by her bullying relatives so Remmick and the hivemind decide enough is enough and that night they take Reader in to live with them and deal with their relatives.

A New Home

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A/N; Thank you for the request, so sorry it’s taken me so long to get to!! I liked writing this idea :)

Summary; Sometimes the only family you need is a group of vampires and their sweet talking leader.

Content; Fem!reader, human reader, angst to fluff, abusive family dynamics, verbal abuse, religious guilt, arranged marriage, slut shaming, established relationship, the vampires survived, protective Remmick, found family dynamics

Wc; 3.7k

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You’re used to the shouting.

You’re used to the cursing and the belittling and the gaslighting. What you’re not used to is the pure fury in your mama’s eyes, the words sharpened like knives that come flying out of her mouth. You’re also not used to the escalation, to the way she throws something close to your head that shatters against the wall. You don’t even know what it was, only that some of the shards threaten to scratch your face before you duck out of the way.

“I can’t believe you!” Her voice echoes through the house, booming like a thunderstorm and making you flinch.

“Mama, please-“ You try to beg, your voice meek and broken.

“Don’t call me that! Not after what you did! Thinkin’ you can sneak around, slutting yourself out to whatever man you can find, ruinin’ every goddamn thing!” She yells. “Never can do anythin’ right, can you? Couldn’t just do what I asked this one fuckin’ time?”

“I didn’t touch him, mama! We were just talkin’, I’ve told you!” You say, but you know your argument falls on deaf ears. You know that she won’t take your word for it, that she’d rather believe her church friends that whisper ruthlessly and put ideas in her head.

“Is that why you’ve been thinkin’ you can come home so late? Think I’m stupid enough not to fuckin’ notice?” She demands, slamming her hand against the kitchen table, her wedding ring making the sound even more piercing. “Disgracin’ yourself in the eyes of the Lord and for what? Just to get back at me after everythin’ I’ve done for ya?”

“That’s not it, mama, please just believe me! I didn’t do anythin’ with Remmick I just-“

“Oh so the bastard has a name, does he? He worth ruinin’ everythin’ I had set up for you? Good man, good house, good money,” she throws her hand up with a curled lip, “all just- just thrown away. You have no clue how hard it was to find somebody to marry you, and you just don’t fuckin’ care. Ain’t no man out there who wants a whore for a wife.”

Your tears fall without you realizing, without you meaning to. “Please, mama, I’m sorry- I didn’t- I didn’t mean to we- we were just talkin’ I-“

“They saw you leavin’ that bastard’s house with a smile on your damn face! What’d he tell you, huh? He tell you he’d help you with all your empty headed dreams if you opened your legs? You ungrateful brat.” She spits between gritted teeth, sneering at your sobbing. “I never thought you’d do this to me. I didn’t think you hated me this damn much.”

You startle, attempting to get out your defense through your blubbering. “I- I don’t! I didn’t ruin anythin’! Those women don’t know what they’re talkin’ about! Why can’t you just trust me instead of them?” You cry. “I’ve spent my whole life doin’ everythin’ you ask, haven’t I?”

“Exactly! So now you think you can go around doin’ whatever you want to get back at me! All ‘cuz you just couldn’t suck it up and marry James! The world don’t revolve around you, sweetheart!” She says the word with such venom that it makes you flinch. She pinches the bridge of her nose, a shaky sigh leaving her. “Don’t know what the fuck I did for God to damn me with a whore of a daughter. Couldn’t just be nice and help the family out, had to go screw some nobody to stick it to me.”

You practically splutter, unable to do much more than stare in disbelief. Your words find you in a surge, your fists clenching. “You’re ridiculous! Nothin’ I say gets through to you at all! Nothing I do even matters, it’s never good enough!” You shout, tears staining your anger. “Do you know how exhaustin’ it is gettin’ insulted by you all the time? My own mama?”

“Don’t you raise your voice at me like that, girl.” She snaps right back, pointing a finger at you. “I’m sick of your disrespect after I feed you, put a roof over your head. If you don’t want it then you’re free to go. You’re a goddamn disgrace to this family, and honestly, I don’t want someone like you around your siblings. Next thing I know they’ll all be actin’ like you. You think you can do whatever you want in my damn house? You are poorly mistaken. Get out, and don’t come back until that head of yours is screwed on straight.”

Your mouth falls open, your chest feeling like it just caved in on itself. You can barely breathe even as you beg for air, lungs crushed in an invisible fist. Your mama is just looking at you as if she didn’t rip the floor out from under you, as if she didn’t utter the words you’ve feared for so long.

“Go on! Don’t make me repeat myself.” She says flippantly, waving her hand.

You can’t even speak. You can only turn on your heel and run up the stairs, your sobs echoing in the hall. As you do, you pass your papa sitting in the living room, newspaper propped in his lap like your mama didn’t just kick out his eldest daughter. You wish you could beg him, could make him stand up to your mama the way he used to, but you know he wouldn’t. He shuts his mouth and does whatever she says in order to keep the peace, merely watching from the sidelines now. He doesn’t even look at you.

Your bedroom door is swung open so hard that it hits the wall. You grab whatever bag you find first, shoving anything you can inside of it. It isn’t much, but you know it’ll be better than nothing. Some clothes, your wallet, a couple jewelry pieces you think you can pawn off if you really need to. You can’t even say goodbye to your siblings since they’re off at school, but part of you is glad they weren’t here to witness the argument between you and your mama.

Your cries don’t stop as you fly down the stairs and out the front door, your mama muttering that she’ll pray for you on your way.

» ☆ «

You don’t know how long you spend at the train station.

You feel paralyzed, nausea making your stomach roll as your mama’s words repeat in your head again and again. You sit there with tear tracks stained on your cheeks while people pass you by, as the trains come and go. Part of you thinks you should just get on one and not look back, but the other part of you is too scared. What are you supposed to do? You barely have any money, and traveling alone as a young woman doesn’t sound like the greatest idea.

You barely react as you pick your nails raw, small beads of blood pooling around the beds. You didn’t want to marry James. You didn’t love him, you barely knew him. You didn’t necessarily like him much either, not with all the rumors that followed him from those that knew him. He was a mean man, cruel behind closed doors, but people ignored it just because he had money. You knew that living with him would’ve broken you, forced to listen to cruel words and be the good quiet wife forever. Still, you would’ve married him just to keep your mama happy, just to have her maybe look at you with a smile instead of her usual scowl.

It’s not like it matters now, not after you went and ruined everything by simply talking with Remmick. You’d just needed a break, that’s all—a break from your family, from the scrutiny. You just needed a shoulder to cry on, someone to rant to, someone to actually listen to you for once. Remmick was always good at that, holding you close and letting you get everything out before you had to go back home. He was kind to you, even despite being what he is.

You’ve seen him with the blood, with the red eyes and sharp teeth, but you found you couldn’t care when his hands were still gentle with you. He was the only person that was nice to you, who cared. A monster, giving more of a fuck than your own family.

You wish you could’ve gone to him, but you knew he wouldn’t be anywhere you could find him anymore. He never stayed in one spot for long, only sticking around for a day or two before he was moving again. He still always found his way back to you though, but this time he wouldn’t be seeing you poking your head out of your window.

The sun has fully set now, the sky an orange and purple mixture, the crowds thinning out. You think that maybe you should try going home. You should try getting on your knees, putting your forehead to the dirt, and begging your mama to take you back in. You’d do anything she wanted, never leave the house again, let her marry you off to whoever would take a sorry thing like you. Maybe then she wouldn’t be so mad, would let you at least have a bed to sleep in.

You sigh, reaching for your bag, ready to make the trek home, before a voice interrupts you.

“What’re ya doin’ out here all by yourself, darlin’?”

You jolt, eyes snapping up to meet Remmick’s. He’s looking at you curiously, hands in his pockets, posture loose and relaxed. His scar stands out starkly against his face, a thin white line stretching from the right corner of his lip all the way through his hair. You’d tried asking him about it before but he just brushed you off, so you let him keep his secret. His button up is clean, sleeves cuffed nicely at the wrists, suspenders strapped on his shoulders.

You feel such relief seeing him that you can’t control yourself from lunging up and wrapping your arms around him. He stumbles back a step, shocked for just a moment before his hands are resting on your waist. “Woah, now. What’s this for?” He asks, voice softened like he knows. Just his touch is an instant balm, a comfort you haven’t experienced in a good while. It lets something within you break again, your tears falling anew.

“I- mama kicked me out she- she thought I was bein’ unfaithful- that- that I was ruinin’ myself with you.” You say through hiccups. “I tried to tell her but she- god she never listens to me. She told me to go. I- I don’t know what to do-“

“Oh, baby, m’sorry.” Remmick murmurs, his arms fully coming around you and holding you tighter. “That awful woman don’t deserve you. Never has.”

Your fingers clutch at his shirt. “I just- I don’t know what I did to make her hate me-“

He pulls you away enough to cup your face, to brush away your tears with his thumbs. “Ya did nothin’ wrong, darlin’, none of this is yer fault, ya hear me? Yer mama don’t know what the fuck she’s talkin’ about. Just hears whatever she wants to.”

You nod despite the weight still sitting in your chest. He makes it easy to believe him, to lean into his comforting words and the safety of his arms. “How’d you find me here, anyway?” You decide to ask after a moment.

Remmick hums. “Got worried ‘bout ya when I didn’t see ya at the house. Followed yer smell.” He says it so simply, like it’s completely normal. He’d waited in his usual spot beneath your window, peeked in when you didn’t come out. He decided to track your fading, distressed scent while some of the other vampires checked some spots you might be, and he got lucky when he found you still here at the train station. Something in him tugged when he saw you crying, wanting nothing more than to take your pain away.

“How ‘bout ya come back with me, hm? Let me take care of ya for a while?” He offers gently.

There doesn’t even need to be another word shared as you let Remmick lead you from the train station with his hand secure in yours, the promise of something better settled between you and the tension already easing from your shoulders.

» ☆ «

Night falls as Remmick walks you back to where the other vampires have been hiding out. He often leaves them to their own, keeping them tucked away somewhere while he roams. The night creatures have begun their songs, crying out to the stars above in their own special harmony. You follow a beaten path, the shrubbery along it looking well maintained, all of it leading up a gentle slope to one of the biggest houses in the area. It’s a house only the richest of men would be able to buy, so it shocks you when Remmick walks through the front gate like he owns the place. He turns back to you when you stop, then reaching his hand out expectantly. “C’mon, ain’t no one here but us.”

You pause for a moment longer. ”How did you…?”

He smiles, a small tilt to the corner of his mouth. “I think ya know better than to ask somethin’ like that. Now c’mon, darlin’, let’s get ya settled in.”

With your fingers once again intertwined with his, he brings you through the immaculate yard, all the way up the front steps of the fancy porch. As soon as you entered the property, you’ve felt like you’re being watched, and now you see them peeking through the curtains—beady, milky eyes attached to shadowy figures that dart away if you look at them too long. Remmick opens the front door without need for a key, the thought of locking the place laughable when the inhabitants are far more dangerous than any robber.

You immediately notice the chill in the house, goosebumps rising along your arms, a shiver going down your back. You can smell the metallic tang that hangs in the air, could probably find traces of the source if you looked hard enough. Still, it’s the nicest home you’ve been in with its expensive furniture and old pictures in golden frames hung on the walls. It’s full of winding hallways and too many rooms for you to count, many of which you pass on your way to the living room. Two large couches are positioned around a table and a fireplace, a few embers still smoldering inside.

There’s a couple on one of the couches, a taller man and a woman, snuggled up together. The man’s attention shifts when Remmick walks in. “Find what you were lookin’ for?” He asks. Then he looks to you, those reflective white eyes catching the dim lighting when he does. His nose twitches. “You brought a human in here, Rem?”

”I had to. She ain’t have anywhere else to go.” Remmick responds, the hand he has on your waist feeling protective, the tips of his fingers digging in just slightly.

“Nobody’ll touch her, not if they know what’s good for ‘em.” The woman says with a light smile, standing along with the man.

He holds a hand out to you. “Name’s Stack. This is my girl, Mary.”

“Nice to meet you both.” You say, giving them your name as you shake his hand, his hold firm and cold.

“Keep an eye on her, will ya? I have somethin’ I need to finish up. I’ll be back soon.” Remmick tells them, Stack and Mary nodding while your eyes widen.

To be honest, you don’t feel the most comfortable being left in a house of vampires you don’t know while you’re very blatantly a source of food. “Wait but-“

“Don’t worry, darlin’, nothin’s gonna happen to ya. I won’t be out long.” He says, cupping your face and leaning forward to place a quick kiss on your forehead. It has your cheeks burning and your body wishing he’d keep touching you when he pulls away. He gives you a final look, like telling you to behave, before he’s turning and leaving the way you’d come in.

A brief silence settles over the room, disturbed only by the front door closing and a creaking upstairs before Mary speaks. “You need anything, honey? Could see if there’s any food in the kitchen, or I could get you a cup of tea?” Her tone is soft, her gaze studying.

You shake your head. “No I’m good, thank you, I’m just… exhausted.”

“Then come sit down and relax.” Stack says, guiding you over to the couch they had been sitting on. You gratefully oblige, sighing in relief at getting to rest your tired feet, sinking into the cushions.

“Somethin’ happen? Rem didn’t tell us much, but you looked upset.” Mary asks, sitting beside you while Stack settles on your other side. He has you turn to face her so he can work on your hair, mentioning getting some of it out of your face, the style you had having long since come undone during the events of the day.

You stare at your hands for a moment, idly picking at your cuticles. “My mama kicked me out. She wanted me to marry this guy I ain’t even want to marry, and then I guess someone saw me talkin’ to Remmick and they started spreadin’ all this stuff about me. My mama said I was no good, called me all sorts of names cause she thought I was out screwin’ around.” The words threaten to get lodged in your throat as tears brim your eyes again. “I never did anythin’ wrong. She didn’t used to be this bad, I… I just don’t get it.”

“C’mon, don’t cry, it ain’t worth it.” Stack says gently. “People like that just see whatever they wanna see. Ain’t no use tryin’ to understand it.”

”That’s right. Now you’re here with us, you don’t have to worry about it anymore.” Mary tells you, taking your hands in her own, running her thumbs along your knuckles. “It’ll be okay.”

You find yourself nodding, wanting to believe in their words. You let go of the remaining tension in your body while Stack pulls your hair back into an easy and loose style with experienced fingers. You can’t remember the last time someone did your hair, your mama telling you to figure it out yourself when you got old enough. It’s been so many years since you’ve been cared for in any capacity, you realize.

”So… you guys been here long?” You decide to ask, needing to say something to distract yourself from your thoughts.

“Nah, only ’bout a month in this house. Longest we been somewhere in a while. Rem always keeps us movin’, makes it easier.” Stack explains.

“Although it’s nice to know we have a house to come back to. You wouldn’t believe some of the places we’ve had to hide out in.” Mary says with a small laugh. “Like this one time we cut it too close, and we had to hide in this little shack and all of us were crammed together like sardines for the whole day.”

Stack blows out a breath with a shake of his head. “That wasn’t a good one.”

You listen to them tell their stories, smiling at how Mary always adds something to what Stack says and vice versa, then asking you the occasional question until your eyes start to close and you get too tired to respond. At some point there’s a blanket wrapped around you, and your head rests on someone’s shoulder, lulling you into an easy sleep.

» ☆ «

You don’t know how long you’re out for, a grumble leaving you when your eyes slowly open again.

“Mornin’, darlin’.” Remmick says softly, his voice tugging you from your slumber. At some point you’d been moved, now settled in a chair in Remmick’s arms, still in your little blanket bundle. Your head is snug just under his chin, the chill of his body pressed against your cheek.

“It’s mornin’ already?” You mumble, briefly looking around and seeing every window shut tight, securely blocking out any ounce of sunlight that tries to get in.

”Mhm. Ya slept like a log.” He jokes.

“Where’d you go last night?” You decide to ask, repositioning yourself to be able to look at him. He seems more human like this, with the blue of his eyes shining clearly, no signs of those vampire features able to be seen.

“Just had to take care of somethin’.” He says, cryptic as ever.

You don’t press, you feel like you don’t have the right when he took you in, gave you somewhere to stay. You slump against him, pressing your face to the crook of his neck, taking breaths of his smell, ancient and earthy with that unmistakable note of fresh iron. “You won’t make me go back, will you?” Your words are quiet, like you’re scared of what his answer may be.

His hold on you tightens, drawing you ever closer. “‘Course not, darlin’. We’re yer family now, alright? Ya ain’t ever have to worry about the rest of ‘em again. Yer safe with me.” He tells you.

What he doesn’t tell you is that going back to your real family, going back home, isn’t even an option, not when he left them bleeding out on the floor. He couldn’t help himself, so blinded by his anger over what they did to you, how they treated you. He’d say your mama was an evil woman and she deserved what was coming to her, but he knows you, knows that if he told you any of this, you’d freak out and wouldn’t listen to a single word. So he keeps it to himself, just for now. Besides, how could he ruin this moment when you look so sweet all curled up against him?

“I’ll take ya wherever ya wanna go, do whatever ya wanna do. I’d take the moon outta the sky for ya if ya wanted.” He continues with a kiss to your hairline.

“How ‘bout we do all that after I sleep a lil’ more?” You mutter, already starting to drift off.

He smiles to himself. “Sure thing, darlin’.”

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The execution of Lady Furina de Fontaine

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80% of my art for the past month has been the spot in a button up and cargo shorts and id like to apologize for that

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Adult Coco!

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Well well well….

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counting scars

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...and she walks like a soldier !!!

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Ahsoka Tano oh the girl you are <3

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It’s that time again when I change my layout

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Can’t stop thinking about brat tamer alpha Clark and his omega who’s a little too feisty for their own good 🤤 always doing things that piss him off, biting back in their own way, never really listening until Clark pins them down and shows them who the boss really is!!

anon you don’t know what you unlocked in me by telling me this…. i got… extremely carried away. this is over 1k words. the word drabble has no real definition to me when the idea is too good. this also came out a bit softer than u were probably imagining haha hope you enjoy 🥲!!!!!

please send me your alpha!clark kent thoughts!!

nsfw content under the cut

brat taming, porn with plot, light angst, biting, light choking

Clark loves everything about you. His first conversation with you was at a post-work happy hour with the Daily Planet crew, with you casually interrupting his explanation of his latest article and pointing out every hole in his argument. It helped to know you were like this with everybody, unafraid to share your opinion and tell somebody when they’re wrong; you’ve defended him in staff meetings when Steve launches pointless criticism at his material, too. It also helped that you were the prettiest thing he’d ever laid his eyes on.

So he asked you to help him with the article, you graciously agreed, and when it was published with both of your names on the byline, he asked you out.

It took many more dates, gifts, and late nights together in the office for you to realise he was courting you.

You didn’t exactly think of yourself as prime mating material. Most alphas found you… unpleasant, to say the least. Your sugary scent gave the impression that you would be sweet. Pliant. Most alphas you’ve met are quite disappointed when they find you’re not fond of being treated like a doormat, or a blank slate for them to project their hierarchical ideas of what an omega should be. And maybe the years of having to advocate for yourself and push back against alphas that would rather steamroll you have made you a bit overly defensive and sardonic, but they’ve also made you a top reporter at one of the most prestigious newspapers in the country.

Clark, on the other hand, is tall, broad, buff, devastatingly handsome, kind, fiercely protective of others – everything an Alpha ought to be. You were utterly convinced you were spending time together because he valued your insights as a reporter, and it took him inviting you to his apartment for dinner to realize he was interested in spending time with you outside of work. Sure, he asked you questions about yourself all the time, and you’d bonded over a mutual love of physical media and fancy coffee, but you thought- anyone could’ve mistaken that for friendliness!

“Are you.. I- are you trying to court me?” You ask outright when he proposes the date.

“I have been for the past month, but yes, thank you for noticing.”

It takes a while for the idea of him being yours to stick. You like him so much it scares you, and it surprises you that he returns that affection every step of the way, despite your tendency to get too fired up over just about anything. When that aggression bleeds into the way you act during your heat, he doesn’t seem to mind at all, reassures you over and over again that he’s yours, his knot belongs to you, he doesn’t see anyone else.

It causes quite a stir at the office when you two show up at the office after a week-long heat absence, and Clark is littered with bite marks from you, extremely unusual for an omega to do to an Alpha, temporary marks of your possession. You have one from him, too, right on your ankle from the time he took you with both legs over his shoulders, but it’s easily concealable, and shallow enough to fade in a week. Nowhere near as deep and visible as the one on Clark’s hand, between his thumb and forefinger, clearly a result of you digging your teeth in while he had his hand around your jaw.

You’re a bit shy about the fuss that’s made over it, blood rushing to your cheeks every time Cat and Lois rib you about it, but Clark beams over it all week, ecstatic to have everyone around him know you’re his and he’s yours.

He gets very used to having your back. You get too feisty for your own good sometimes, arguing over things that he would’ve just shrugged off, refusing to back down when Perry tries to intervene in your reporting – your fortitude makes you an asset to the political reporting team, but you have trouble reigning yourself in when you think you’ve found something worthy of exposing – and he tries to use his advantages as an Alpha for good, making sure nobody fucks with you.

This week, however, has been very different. You’ve been a bit more sensitive, more irritable, getting worked up if he accidentally messes up your nest, or if your coffee doesn’t taste right, or you have to make any sudden changes to your schedule. You break down crying over forgetting your umbrella at home when it’s pouring rain out, when you’d usually just flag down a cab and call it a day. He’d worry more if he wasn’t constantly monitoring your scent, but he’s in tune with you, knows you’re just stressed out about reporting on the upcoming Metropolis mayoral election, shaping up to be a tight race, you’ll likely be up till an ungodly hour on election night.

He’s relieved when you drag him to the bar with the rest of the Planet crew one Friday night, even though you know he can’t get drunk, just happy to see you let loose with your friends for a bit.

And then the bartender starts flirting with you.

Some new hire, not familiar with you or Clark, strikes up a conversation with you about your drink of choice, and within a few minutes you’re at the bar gesticulating enthusiastically while you and the bartender discuss the most recent Oscar awards. He knows you haven’t realised the bartender’s ulterior motives, you’ve always just been chatty, unaware of social cues in casual conversation. But he can’t help the possessiveness rising up in him when he sees that dumb alpha lean closer to you, offering you a drink on the house, smiling suggestively like Clark didn’t leave his scent on your collar just this morning.

Before he can think it through, he walks up and lifts you off the barstool, turning you to him so he can plant a deep, wet, utterly indecent kiss on your lips. Claiming you, in no uncertain terms.

“Let’s go home,” He tells you, leaving no room for negotiation.

You’re grumpy with him as he says goodbye to your colleagues, he can smell your dissatisfaction, but you wait until you’re safely in your apartment to voice it.

“What the hell was that, Clark?”

“That bartender was flirting with you.”

“He was not- I- is that what you’re pouting about? Some possessive alpha male bullshit?” You fire back, throwing your bag and jacket on the couch.

“It’s not bullshit, baby, it’s serious, I can’t- I can’t just let some other alpha flirt with you!” He insists, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him.

And really, it’s just that he misses you. You’ve both been so busy, and you’ve been stressed, he misses being with you. That’s why you end up on his couch, laying flat on your stomach, panties dangling from your ankle. One of his arms is wrapped around your neck, his hand spanning your entire jaw, holding you in place with his weight, all 240lbs of his strength.

You feel bad for his neighbours as the room fills with the sound of his hips slapping against yours, your high-pitched moans, and your alpha’s mindless, possessive babbling.

“F-fuck, honey, ‘s so good-”

“All yours,” You whimper, wanting to meet his thrusts, but you can barely even wriggle out from under him, no choice but to lay there and take it.

“Yeah?” His tone is mocking. “All mine? You sure?”

“Yes, alpha, please,” You lay it on thick, because you know he can’t resist it when you whine like this for him, for your alpha.

“You don’t think it’s possessive- hngh- bullshit, when I do this?” He leans down and sinks his teeth into your shoulder, deep enough to make sure you’re drenched in his scent for weeks, making your head spin with it. Your cunt clenches around him as you climax, tears springing to your eyes with the intensity of it, babbling “alphaalphaalphalpha” through your high.

But he doesn’t let up, keeps plowing into you, angling his hips on every thrust to hit that spot inside you, that’ll keep you soft and open for his knot. He bites you anywhere he can reach, relishing in your gasps and mewls every time you feel his teeth sink into you, claiming you over and over again.

“Gonna let me knot you like this? Make you mine?” You nod as best you can with his hand keeping you in place, raking your nails down his arm, the only part of him you can reach.

“‘M yours, alpha, please, please, need it-” You wish you could look at him, meet his eyes while you beg for his knot to fill you, but he gives you what you want, always, makes you cry out when he slips it in you carefully, still careful not to hurt you with his size. The stretch of it is always unbelievable, always gives you that fullness you crave.

His hold on you only loosens when his cock has finished spurting in you, filling you with his hot spend, and his breathing is still heavy, his quiet groans making you tighten around him even after you’ve come down from your high. You get a bit lightheaded with the blood rushing back to your head, your muscles feel loose, all the pent-up stress gone. You manage to maneuver your head enough to see all the bite marks you’re now sporting, and you hear him whine above you.

“‘M sorry, baby,” He mumbles, sheepish, and just as spent as you, but you know he doesn’t feel the least bit guilty.

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do u think the events of sinners (2025) became a true crime story in-universe. i mean all the vampires were incinirated by the sunrise so presumably all thats left as evidence is smoke and a bunch of dead white men, a lot of families now missing people, and sammie, whos scars become part of his image as a thriving musican. you know the conspiracies would go crazy if the internet found out about that.

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REMMICK PT 2 HD

(All screencaps taken by SCRPrints)

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/edit of the Han Solo Hunt for the Falcon comic

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Best friends

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checking in. are we all okay??? i sure am not

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𐕣 ☣︎ 𝓐𝓻𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝔂? 𐕣 ☣︎