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a-dirty-secret · 6 months

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Johnny's Girl - Part 14

There's a bit of fluff but no smut in this chapter, just some suggestive stuff. Wanted to give the smut a break. I'd be ok with having it in every chapter, but I'm not sure how others feel about that. I can only change the language up so much. 😂

tw: dub/non-con, hematolagnia, dacryphilia, blood, violence, stalking, rough sex

After finally peeling yourselves away from each other you asked Johnny for a shower. He agreed, insisting that you'd need company, and you happily accepted. There was no hot water by the time you were done.

After your shower you decided to push your luck, asking Johnny to take you outside for some fresh air. It was late, but he agreed. He wasn't tired, and at that moment he wanted little more than to be close to you.

You took in a deep breath, basking in the warm Texas air. Your prolonged time in the basement made everything outside feel much sharper. The stars felt brighter, the air smelled fresher, and the crickets sounded louder. You wondered how well you'd be able to handle sunlight after being in the dimly lit basement for so long.

You stood there, staring at the starts, lost in your thoughts. You didn't notice how Johnny was staring at you, mesmerized by how beautiful you looked in the starlight. Just looking at you evoked emotions he'd never felt before, emotions he thought somebody like him was incapable of feeling. Is this really weakness?

You look over at Johnny and smile when you notice his eyes are already on you. "So, do I still have to stay in the basement?" You ask, grinning.

"Well that depends, are you gonna try to leave again?" He spoke the words lightly, not wanting you to see what he truly wanted to ask. Were you going to leave him?

"If I was planning on leaving, do you think I would tell you?" You tease, but notice Johnny isn't amused.

"Look, I wanna start givin' you some freedom around here. I don't want you to feel like a prisoner anymore, but I can't just let you walk outta here." He says tightly.

Despite his tone, you sense more discomfort than anger. You position yourself in front of him and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his. You press a soft kiss to his lips, then another just below his ear. "I guess you'll just have to keep a really, really close eye on me." You whisper.

"Mmm... I think I can manage that." You step away and turn around, pressing your back against him and looking back up at the stars. Johnny sighs and wraps his arms around you tightly. "Tomorrow you can start helpin' out around here. Cookin' and cleanin'. Sissy is gonna be beside herself." He says the last part with a bit of irritation and you giggle.

"How do you think everybody is gonna react to having me around? I'm a bit nervous."

"Well Sissy already likes you, and Drayton doesn't like anybody. You'll get along with Nubbins just fine, and big boy ain't bad to be around."

"And... Your mom?" You ask nervously.

Johnny hesitates. "She'll just have to get used to you, that's all."

"Who are you trying to convince, me or you?"

He laughs and gives you a squeeze, "Both, I guess. You don't have anything to worry about. As long as you're here, I'm gonna take care of you. I promise." He runs a hand down your stomach and below your shirt, rubbing the letters he'd left on your skin. "How's it healing?"

"It itches like hell, but it's healing fine. I kind of like having your name on my skin." You say, placing your hand over his.

"Oh really?" He says, sliding both his and your hands beneath your shorts and panties. He rubs your clit gently, and the feeling of his hand under yours as he touches you drives you wild. You moan softly, the feeling of him growing hard on your ass making you want to feel him inside of you, despite already being sore.

"C'mon darlin', I'm gonna fuck you to sleep." He says, removing his hand and leading you to his bedroom.

*** Johnny was standing in the doorway, waiting for you to finish getting dressed. "C'mon, we're gonna be late for breakfast." He says, irritated.

"Don't get an attitude with me, you're the one that started grinding your hard on against me."

He smirks as you walk to the doorway. "I just couldn't resist." He says, smacking your ass as you walk out of the bedroom. You make your way to the dining room to find that breakfast had already started.

Drayton sees you and narrows his eyes. "What the hell're you doin', boy? Didn't your mama tell you to take care of her?"

"She's stayin'. She can help out around the house, cookin' and cleanin'. Sissy's been complaining about needin' help around here for a while, and you're always bitchin' about how dirty the house is." Johnny says firmly.

"Oh, how excitin'! I just knew you'd come around, Johnny! It's gonna be so nice havin' another woman around the house!" Sissy chimes in excitedly.

"Ooooh! J-J-Johnny's letting his g-girlfriend stay!" Nubbins shouts, earning a happy grunt from Bubba and a sneer from Johnny.

"Your mama's gonna tan your hide when she gets back! I oughta take care of her myself!" Drayton shouts, standing up and taking a step towards you.

With no hesitation Johnny's in front of him, hands balled into fists. "If you so much as THINK of layin' a hand on her, I'll make sure you don't have a hand to use." He growls.

"What's gotten into you, boy? You're gonna let some floozy come between the family?" Drayton responds.

"She ain't comin' between the family, she's gonna be helpin' us out. You're the only one opposed, old man, you're outnumbered." Johnny says, stepping back and taking his seat at the table, you do the same.

Drayton huffs and sits back down. "She'd better make herself useful 'round here!" He shouts, returning to his breakfast.

After the meal Johnny and Drayton left for the gas station, leaving you with Sissy. She showed you around the house, telling you where to find everything. You made a mental note to ask Johnny about getting some more cleaning supplies, this house could use a good scrubbing.

The rest of the day passed quickly. It felt good to be moving around again, and to have something to occupy your time. Sissy kept a close eye on you, though she tried not to be too obvious about it. Nubbins and Bubba kept to themselves, you hadn't seen them again after breakfast.

Now you were in the kitchen, listening to Sissy talk as you prepare dinner together. So far you've gathered that she was in various cults before she came back here. You asked what made her return, but she just gave you a sad smile, saying she prefers to think about positive things.

"So you don't like it here?" You ask.

"Oh it ain't that I don't like it, I just get lonely sometimes. That's why I'm so glad Johnny's lettin' you stay! Come on sugar, let's go set the table."

As you're setting the table you hear the front door open, and Johnny soon enters the dining room. You lock eyes and he smiles, letting you know without speaking that he's happy to see you. You smile as he passes you to go to his seat, being sure to nonchalantly rub against you when he did so. You couldn't wait for dinner to be over so you could have some alone time together.

After everybody finishes eating you get to work on the dishes while Sissy goes outside to get the laundry off the line. You hear Johnny's footsteps behind you and soon feel his arms wrap around you. "Come out back when you get done." He says, planting a kiss on your neck before walking away.

You finish the dishes hurriedly then make your way out the back door. You go through a gate and follow a path by the sunflowers, finding Johnny leaning against one of the old cars, smoking a cigarette. You stand beside him and he puts an arm around your waist, pulling you to close to his side.

"Well, how was your day, darlin'? You miss the basement?" He says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

You laugh, "I didn't miss the basement, but I missed you." You say, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Yeah... Had you on my mind all day." The words felt awkward for him. He wasn't used to being open about his emotions, but with you he wanted to be. He sighs, thinking about what his mom is going to say. She's going to say he's soft, say you're making him weak.

"What are you thinking about?" You ask, sensing that something's on his mind. Johnny tenses, and you can tell that he's uncomfortable. "You can tell me anything, you know. You don't have to, but you can." You say, wrapping your arms around his waist.

He hesitates, thinking of what to say. "I've been slackin' around here since you came around. My mama always told me family comes first, everything else is a distraction. I'm meant for killin', it's what she raised me to do. She's not gonna be happy about us. She's gonna say you're makin' me weak, and part of me wonders if it's true." It felt odd opening up this way, but also relieving.

"You're allowed to have a life outside of your family, it doesn't mean you're any less committed to them, it just means you're also committed to yourself. She raised you to kill, but you're still human. Humans have emotions, they fall in love. That doesn't make you weak, Johnny."

After that you stand in silence, watching the sunset in each other's arms.

#johnny sawyer #johnny slaughter #johnny tcm #johnny slaughter x you #tcsm #texas chainsaw game #tcm game

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crazyvaleska · 2 years

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The Red Means I Love You | Jerome Valeska X GN! Reader

warnings: mention of self harm and child abuse, blood kink, hematolagnia. please do not read this if you're sensitive when it comes to blood cause it might be triggering. idk this is really dark and twisted.

the song that inspired me to write this was "the read means i love you" by madds buckley.

also i apologize for any grammar errors, english isn't my first language and it's late at night as i'm writing this.

"I'm home!" your boyfriend called as he entered your apartment. He had been gone all day looking for his long lost twin brother, Jeremiah. He had claimed that the reason why he was looking for him was to get revenge for the things Jeremiah had accused him of doing back when they were kids.

You were in your bedroom watching TV but you could hear his steps approaching the room. You were excited to see him, yeah, he was a murderer, but he was your murderer. And if you were being honest you did miss him a lot.

"Did you find hi-" you stopped when he entered the room. Your excitement flushed away when you saw his pale face covered in blood. His nose was bleeding uncontrollably. This shouldn't surprise since your boyfriend was, in fact, the infamous Jerome Valeska, the serial killer who's killed thousands in cold blood. And yet here you were, worried about his nose that just didn't seem to ever stop bleeding. He noticed your worried expression and smiled.

"Not yet." he answered casually as he closed the door. He took a few steps closer then sat next to you on the bed.

"Jerome-" you started but he stopped you pressing his index finger against your lips.

"Shhhh! I'm fine, doll. Just got into a fight with some guys earlier. Not a big deal, really. You don't need to worry about me." he forced a smile.

"You're lying." was all Y/N replied.

He didn't answer that. He just stared at you intensely in silence. He was so quiet, that was so unlike him. What was he planning? Did he get bored of you? Did he not need you anymore? Was he going to kill you?

"What makes you think that?" he briefly mumbled.

"The blood's too fresh. If it started bleeding due to a fight then the blood would be dry by now... 'Rome, did you..." you paused and looked at the bloody tips of his fingers and nails then looked back at him only for him to look away. He sighed.

"Good observation. Fine. Yeah, I did this to myself by scratching the inner side of my nostrils with my nails, see? I'm sorry, I couldn't help it."

"J, you should stop hurting yourself. This isn't okay." you said as you took his hand on yours. He turned his face to look at you again and let out a soft giggle.

"It's just.. blood gives me so much comfort, you know Y/N? I don't know how to explain it, but everytime I see blood I feel so relieved. Bleeding is just so wonderful, you know? And not just seeing other people bleeding to death. I love feeling it. I love feeling my own hot blood pouring down my cold skin. I like to bite my lips till they bleed. And then I like to lick it all. Same goes when I cut my wrists. And I love the scars. If I could I would peel off my skin and bathe in a blood bath." he paused and gave you a big sincere smile, an excited smile, while squeezing your hands. Then he spoke again.

"I know how insane this sounds. Oh well, what are you gonna do about it? I guess I'm just really fucked up, aren't I? You know, I wasn't always like this. Until he started making up those stories that poisoned our mom. And he got away with it while I had to suffer the consequences of his cruel lies. She used to get drunk and started to beat me up very often, and after that she would bang random guys. At first I was so scared. Because sometimes she would beat me up until I bled. She didn't care about my desperate cries for help, no one did. It was so bad sometimes I would even cough or throw up on my own blood." he sounded so emotionless.

"But then I got used to it. And when she wasn't the one harming me I was harming myself. It started as a way of punishing myself for being so weak but then I started enjoying it. I started killing small animals, and after doing so I used to reward myself by cutting my skin. It's just so addicting. So addicting and so comforting when I do it, yet so terrifying when she did it. Funny how most people won't get it. Unfortunate. They say such a shame I turned out this way: a maniac. Well, yeah I get manic when I cause a panic and of course I'm excited when I see you around."

An evil grin creeped up his face. He was speaking with such passion now it was terrifying. The smile never left his face and his grip was tight. He was clearly out of his mind, and so were you. Because if you were truly sane you wouldn't be dating a murderer. He cleared his throat and moved close to your ear and whispered:

"Oh, if only you knew the things I wanna do to you. I want to choke you till you pass out. I want to bruise your pretty body. I want to bite you and smell your blood. I want to carve my initials all over your body. I want to cut you open and taste your blood, I bet you taste so so sweet, doll. You'd look so pretty smeared in blood. And not just your blood. My blood as well. Oh, to see you covered in my dark red blood. Red's a beautiful color, isn't it?"

And before you knew it he was sitting on top of you, still whispering his dirty little desires into your ear. You could feel his hot breath against your ear. When his bloody lips touched your ear you shivered. You knew how wrong this was. He needed professional help. You should help him get sane, not obey his insanity. You should be frightened, and part of you was. But you would be lying if you said you weren't enjoying this little chat or if you said Jerome wasn't attractive with all that blood pouring down his nostrils. He placed a slow and deep kiss on your earlobe and then moved to your neck, leaving a small trace of blood on your skin. He slowly digged his teeth into your flesh then sucked the spot. Your lips let out a small moan of pain and pleasure.

He smirked against your neck then tilted his head so he was now facing you. He reached his pocket and pulled out a small dagger.

"Because my insides are red..." he pressed the dagger against your cheek, leaving a deep cut. You whimpered in pain as the cold blade penetrated your skin.

"And yours are too," he dropped the weapon "And the red on my face is matching you." he touched his bloody nose, then your bloody cheek and then smiled in excitement.

"And goodness you're bleeding, what a wonderful feeling! You're down and you're pleading, my head is just reeling" he cupped your face with his hands and moved his face so close to yours, your lips were almost touching.

"The Red Means I Love You" he whispered before closing the space between you two, pressing his lips against yours, allowing you to taste the salty blood on his lips. He was kissing you like there was no tomorrow, while his hands traveled down your neck, beginning to choke you. When he pulled away he began to lick your harmed cheek. Your blood tasted so sweet, he just couldn't get enough of it, he loved it so much.

"Tasting your blood means I Love You"

But his grip around your neck tightened and your vision began to blurry. You tried to breathe but that didn't seem like an option. Before you passed out your heard him whisper again the same sentence he's whispered before:

"The Red Means I Love You!"

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sorry this is short, it's like 3am and i got inspired by this edit i made a few days ago

#cameron monaghan #jerome #jerome gotham #jerome valeska #jerome x reader #jeremiah x reader #jeremiah valeska #jeremiah gotham #jeremiah #valeska twins #valeska #valeska brothers #gotham #blood kink #hematolagnia

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s0apysm1les · 2 years

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Oh gosh... don't ask me how or why i made this, i don't know myself 100%

content: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF GORE AND VIOLENCE, REFERENCE OF READER DEATH, GURO (erotic grotesque), kidnapping, graphic depictions of noncon, mentions of various deaths, yandere tendencies/actions, unspecified male yandere, gender neutral reader, blood kink (hematolagnia), blood as lube, no preparation

EXTREMELY GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF GURO. You have been warned.

How many times did he have to explain to you that you'll never be able to leave? Whether it was ten or a hundred times, he'll still never get bored of taking your shivering and sobbing head gently between his two - usually bloody - hands.

You get out of the locks, escape the room, run down the corridor, out the door and into the wild, free space of society. You think you're safe and you never learn. He knows how to bind you properly, so even breathing becomes a chore. He knows how to lock a door. He knows that until you're broken you won't give up on your escape attempts.

You... don't seem to have noticed that this was always the same pattern. You escape, he chase. It's been that way since day one and you follow the same pattern every day.

At first it was just to watch another pitiful person squirm about and run around like a rat. But after seeing your sobbing face still dripping in the blood and brains of the civilian you asked for help... something changed.

What had been a boring everyday droll had raced through his veins like electricity. His world seemed to shine in new colors that bounced off of your rolling tears. You were... beautiful.

All of the other toys, past and present, were nothing more than that. Toys. But you... you were really... alive. You brought him to a new peak, shown him another thrill - another mountain for him to climb. He wanted to break you down at your best, crash you down into a small and pitiful pile of tears and broken dreams.

He needed you to cling to him and beg for either his mercy or your death - neither of which he knew he would give to you.

Right now you were still whole, but oh how beautiful he could see you be without an arm. Your precious, delicious red blood gushing from the spot that once held a severed limb.

He could take an arm... that would slow down in you unlocking the door... Or he could take a leg! This would no doubt slow you down when escaping the corridor..

Ohhh and what he would do to your severed limb - HIS severed limb - haha~ ohhh~ the wonders. The muscles that once tightened at your unconscious thoughts, that moved and responded to your every desire now sat in his hands and unable to do the wonders they were previously dispositioned to. He felt a thrill race through his body once more as he gently prodded at the exposed, tender muscle from the opening where he had effortlessly slashed the limb.

This. This... was you. This was something that you had grown and formed throughout the entirety of your life. This was something wholly you. Nobody else could replicate it - and you yourself had probably never even understood that it could become a separate existence.

He gently twiddled the relaxed digits on his limb of choice - be it your arm or leg made no difference for his end goal as he groaned with the lack of resistance in the joints. Rigor mortis had yet to set in, but it was fast approaching as he gripped and groped at the still-hot limb. Fresh off your body.

You yourself were kept safe to some point, a tight tourniquet around the portion not severed.

Even if you were to die, he could still use you for a purpose after all. And he could keep your body preserved as well. Even without you alive you were now his... inside.... and out.

He tenderly pushed his index finger into the exposed muscle, shivering as the meat held form against his intrusion. With a harsh jam, the meat had easily torn against his unrepressed strength. He stared at the surface of what once was your limb, by twisting and turning his finger the skin on top had shifted and moved, highlighting the foreign object's movements.

An audible whine had filled the room the both of you were in. You couldn't even gather the energy to think about who made the whine... was it you or him? You were in too much of a state to really notice or care for his sick delight in the object in his hands... What was it? Your eyes seemed to blur and refuse what they see when you try to figure it out. You think to wiggle the extremities of where it should have been - not realizing that it indeed was yours - and felt something drop in your stomach when the limb across the room didn't do as you willed.

Why didn't it?- It's cold. Your thoughts interrupted themselves and you glance to the chill... only to see a gaping and dripping wound where your limb once conjoined the rest of your body. The limb that was now across the room. Getting fondled by the man who severed it.

He stared in awe and held-back pleasure as he began to furiously pulse two fingers into the cooling muscle. He couldn't take it any more! He frantically gripped his pants with the bloody fingers that just previously perverted your severed flesh. He sighed in relief as his hard and burning length was exposed to both the room and you. He couldn't help the jerk that ran through his dick at the thought of entering your body in some way.

He turned his head, locking eyes with you before smirking as he began to push the limp flesh down onto his throbbing cock. It was warm and wet and he let out a loud groan as he began to thrust into it harshly. The hole he made was too small so the grip that your severed limb had on him was maddeningly tight. He gripped it even tighter with both hands on the outside as he started to thrust his hips upwards into it as well.

You listened to his grunting and the wet squelch of blood and muscle in a daze. You've grown emotionally numb to the sight before you without you even realizing. You stared at nothing as he heatedly glared at you, the distant look in your eyes spurred him on as he sped up in thrusting to your stolen flesh.

He lifted himself up from sitting on the floor to on his knees facing you directly. With one hand holding him up, his other hand treated your severed limb as a fleshlight, surging it back and forth to envelope his cock entirely in its delicious heat. You heard the rest of the limb dragging on the floor with each harsh thrust. You couldn't even remember if it was an arm or a leg that he cut off... did it even matter any more? He didn't seem to care what its original purpose was in the first place as he thrust into it so vigorously - so why should you?

thrust- draag

Thrust!- draag

faster, faster, Faster! He never looked away from you for a second and it was like his peircing gaze was a magnet that held your eyes, too, to his. You were unable to look away, even at the graphic sound of him fucking your severed limb. You were tired. The pattern of escape, recapture, murder, escape, recapture, murder had in some way killed you already.

You lost the energy to fight back entirely once he punished you for trying to slap him. You never even got close... but now he did.

He crawled towards you, keeping himself sheathed in your severed limb with the drying blood all over his crotch. You didn't even flinch once he got close enough to stroke your face. Nor when he used your severed limb - of which he displeasingly removed himself from - to brush your jawline. The rank smell of blood, raw flesh and his arousal pierced your nose like a knife.

His lips trembled as he watched a trail of his precum from the raw meat drag down your jaw. He had barely held back his orgasm from thrusting into your dismembered limb previously, but seeing this now had almost put his edging to waste.

He dropped the gory cocksleeve and followed the trail of the bead of precum with his fingertip, turning the pink line red, before pulling your unresisting head and pressing your slack lips into his. His prodding tongue covered every inch of your mouth and lapped up every drop of saliva before replacing it with his own.

He gently leaned you back onto the floor as his tongue seemed to drill into the back of your throat. He panted desperately between the two of you as he struggled with getting your shorts off. There was no buttons or a zipper, it was just a slip of fabric, but with how his hands shook in excitement he couldn't help but fumble with the thin slip of fabric that separated him from his long awaited prize...

Oh god, you looked so fucking hot. Covered in your own blood. He could just reach his hands around your throat and rip the rest of your life out of your body at the simplest of his whims. Look at how you looked so lost to time in front of him... You were something that he created. You were perfect... You were so. So... SO fucking HOT.

He harshly gripped his finger and thumb in a ring around the base of his cock - just about to enter your body - to prevent him from jizzing right at the feeling of your heat touching the tip of his painfully erect dick.

He couldn't resist - He thrust harshly into you and groaned in agony at the instinctive gripping of your walls around the painfully large foreign object. There was definitely not enough lubrication - considering he did none - and your body protested as your sensitive inner walls unwillingly gave way to blood from inside.

He didn't waste any time for you to adjust to his invasion, instead deciding to ride through with his intrusion. Your body's attempt at defense was for it to squeeze him to the point of him shedding pained tears. But unluckily for you and your body, that only fueled him further as his thrusts became easier with the exposure of your fresh blood from inside your poor damaged cavity.

Oh~ Your body would forever carry imprints of him on every inch of you - even to the point of your internal organs having a scar of his own making. He pressed his hand harshly on top of your bladder. Both the full feeling and the force of his weight caused a clenching around him. He gasped in weak pleasure as even you let out a soft tone of discomfort -this enthralled him even further. Dropping his arm from the top of your pelvis to the side where he gripped you harshly.

Here he treated you as roughly as he did your own limb, glancing to it for a second before he noticed your eyes on it and grabbed your jaw to glare into your eyes. He pulled your faces a mere inch apart and glared at you for a moment before wrenching your head upward and sticking his desperately moist tongue out. He licked from the top of your left eye up harshly, his tongue pushing both your eye backwards into your skull and your eyelid up - thus exposing the tender muscle beneath to the fearfully deranged man above you.

Animalistic noises rose from above you as pain radiated numbly from below. His grunting and thrusts both got rougher at the same time, signaling - you assumed- his coming release.

You were relieved when you were indeed right. His hot cum filled your aching cavity in pulses, you could feel it was surprisingly noticeably warmer than your own blood and fluids inside the damaged hole. His heavy weight dropped harshly onto your unexpecting chest, causing air to painfully rush into your chest.

You began to writhe and choke under him as you suffered from the ironically named moment of having your breath ''knocked out of you''. He seemed not to care as he grabbed your biceps and forced the upper parts of your arms against your sides in anger at you not basking in his love as he-yours. With a sick grin, he continued to hold your arms down as he slid his bloody form over yours. After a minute of shuffling he now sat on his calfs just above from crushing your chest once again. Both of his legs held you firm and his once again hard cock stared at you from its weeping hole a mere inch from your lips. It now held the rank metallic stink of his juices, your blood and what other stuff it had been exposed to in the moments it drilled into your numb south.

He didn't give you a gasping moment as you, finally able to breath slightly normal again, were violently yanked from the back of your head to suffer the burning pain of being an unwilling victim of a violent throat fucking that was sure to leave you rasping for weeks if you were even able to talk tomorrow. Even if you had the idea to bite his cock that slid between your teeth completely off, he held your teeth unlocked by keeping a firm grip on your lower jaw.

You choke in surprise as you feel a cold and firm piece of flesh surprise your calmed and damaged nether regions. He groans at the sudden tightening from above you and that is when you notice that he is using his free hand to slowly start to fuck you where he had just finished with your own severed limb. If you hadn't become numb from the initial shock, you might have even actually killed over and died at the sight and knowledge of the disgusting thing he was doing to you, but it's never just that easy in life now is it?

With your own severed and cold dead limb shoved into your most sensitive spot - which was still soaked in his seed - as your kidnapper and "one-true-love" rushed himself into another blood soaked and violent orgasm. This one left you coughing and gagging to the point of vomiting. The harsh peach and color blotched spew left an acrid smell and taste on your tongue.

You can't even be sure that the thought of "Is it over?" passed through your head at this point. You had lost your sense of self at this point, with your vision and hearing fading into blurry black and soft ringing. Whether this was the end was no longer a concern as you let the black envelope you.

Who did you imagine was the yandere in this story?

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wincestismyguiltypleasure · 4 years

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Warnings: Hematolagnia and a whole bunch of other fucked up shit to go with the erotic, codependent incest. 💋 Please read with caution.

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When Sam turns sixteen he starts asking Dean about sex. And compared to the older Winchester's humiliating experience with their painfully conservative father, it's not nearly as awkward as Dean expects it to be. Thank God. Probably because it was clear that Sam trusted his brother to educate him, and he knew that Dean would never shame him for being curious. (Tease Sam a little, sure, but never to the point of making his little brother feel uncomfortable.) Even when some of Sam's questions were crude and a little bit out there, like "Dean, what's knife play? Have you ever made a girl bleed while you were having sex? Isn't it weird to get turned on by blood?" (Which, in retrospect, were all actually pretty benign inquiries compared to Sam's distrubing internet history. But that was definitely a problem for another day.)

So yeah, Dean's not quite prepared for his doe-eyed baby brother to start asking such odd and invasive questions (fucking internet), but still, he chokes down his comments and answers the best way he knows how. Sammy was just an innocent, inquisitive kid, after all right?

However, when Sam looks up at Dean from his homework one night, all sun kissed skin and endless lashes, and asks, "Would you fuck a girl if she was on her period?" the older boy reaches his breaking point. Just short circuits. And Dean can't bite his tongue hard enough to stop his voice from lowering a few octaves, predatory smirk tugging at the end of his lips when he replies, "Why baby girl? You bleeding?"

"Dude!"

Sam obviously doesn't expect those words to come out of his brother's mouth because he blushes violently; pouty bottom lip caught tight between his teeth as he lowers his head to avoid Dean's heated gaze. "You're such a jerk," he mutters, fiddling with the tattered pages of his textbook. "I was just wondering."

"Oh, don't get your panties in a twist." Dean's across the room, fingers gently combing through his little brother's messy hair before Sam can protest. "I was just kidding," the older boy says, rolling his eyes like this wasn't the weirdest thing that had ever transpired between them.

Fine. Two could play that game.

"You gonna answer my question then?" Sam asks boldly. The blush on his cheeks so warm that he's worried his skin might actually burst into flames as he reluctantly leans into Dean's touch. His not so subtle way of calling a truce.

"Some chicks don't like it," Dean muses, cleary trying to push past the awkward nature of the situation and take pity on his brother. "But if I was with a girl who did, then Hell yeah. I'd fuck her while she was on her period." Dean takes a short pause then, like he's debating whether or not to continue before he says, all low and gritty, "It feels really good, Sammy. Nice n'wet."

He grins down at Sam after that, and the younger boy makes a pained sound at the back of his throat. It's a desperate noise, high-pitched and pitiful, and it does something to Dean that he can't quite explain. Fuck, he wants to hear his little brother make that sound again...and again.

"S'not gross?"

Sam fidgets a little when he asks the question, acting shy all of a sudden, and Dean has to mentally slap himself. Quickly chaining down all those sick, animalistic urges he felt clawing at his guts whenever his little brother got that "I don't know which way is up" look on his pretty face and decided to play dumb.

"Yeah, kinda," Dean admits with a shrug before he pats Sam's cheek fondly and takes a seat next to him at the table. "But that's what makes it hot."

"Oh."

Sam sounds completely humiliated, and Dean's trying his best not to freak out. God, is he trying. But he's also hyper-aware of the bulge in his little brother's sweatpants and how Sam's squirming in his chair, trying to adjust himself. Still unable to look Dean in the eyes.

It was clear that his brother was getting off on this, and Dean should really stop...

"Why the sudden curiosity, Sam?" The question flies out of Dean's mouth with reckless abandon before he can think better of it. But fuck it, right? He and Sam had already said some weird shit to each other that he's pretty sure they'll never come back from. Might as well go big or go home now. "One of your little girlfriends get her period?"

Sam makes a sour face at that, shoving his brother hard at the shoulder as he mumbles something along lines of,"don'thaveagirlfriendDean." It's adorable, honestly, and Dean finds himself about to dive head first, without a life jacket, into dangerous fucking territory.

"Talk to me, kiddo."

"It just-" When Sam finally manages to look up at Dean there are tears in his eyes, voice a little wobbly as he says, "...it sounds hot, ya know? And I-..."

"You what, Sam?"

Dean's heart is beating so hard that it actually hurts, the air around them thick and crackling with electricity as he waits anxiously for his little brother's reply. His jaw nearly hitting the ground when he sees Sam's expression darken; like his brother just flipped a mental switch, going from prey to predator in the blink of an eye. Not a hint of hesitation evident when Sam practically growls, "I wanna watch you do it."

"Do what?"

Dean will hate himself for asking later, he's sure of it. But right now, all he wants to hear is the shameless desire in his little brother's voice when Sam confesses his dirty little secret.

"I wanna watch you fuck a girl who's on her period, Dean." Sam's out of his seat in a flash, impossibly long legs straddling his brother's hips as he settles in Dean's lap. He presses a soft kiss to Dean's neck, wiggles a little against him, all desperate and needy, and Dean swears he's never gotten so hard, so fast. His head spinning when he groans without really thinking, "Yeah, Sammy?"

"Yeah, Dean." Sam's breath is hot against Dean's skin, teeth nipping playfully at his earlobe before he whispers,"and I wanna suck your dick afterwards."

"Jesus Christ, Sammy." Sam whines a little when Dean's grip on his thighs gets tighter. Deep, blue bruises blooming under Dean's fingertips as he leans back to look at his baby brother. "That's fucking gross."

Dean tries to sound disgusted, and he kind of is, but his body betrays him when Sam swivels his hips and grinds down harder against Dean's aching cock. Triumphant smile spreading across those soft, pink lips when Sam hears his big brother curse under his breath.

"Mhmm," Sam giggles, nosing playfully at the older boy's stubbly jaw. And Dean has no idea who this kinky little fuck is that's sitting in his lap right now, but he's NOT complaining. Not when Sam was looking at him like that and telling Dean everything he didn't know he wanted to hear. Stomach twisting into knots when Sam grins again, looking positively wicked as he says, "But that's what makes it hot, right big brother?"

#Wincest #Weecest #(Sam's a little off and Dean's really into it)#(Shades of sweet little psychopath Sammy and serial killer Dean? You're God damn right.)#dark!Wincest #mutual pining

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howtofightwrite · 5 years

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Q&A: Immortals, Age Differences, and Consent

Okay, I don’t know who to ask, so I came here. Does pedophilia count if one person is immortal? I.e. Edward Cullen, who should already get a restraining order because stalking. Idk, just wondering.

In the specific case of Twilight, it’s ephebophilia. Edward Cullen engages in pathological attraction to a teenager. Ephebophilia is attraction to individuals in the 15-19 range. So, in short: No, but that’s not better. Cullen is still a sexual predator.

Except, that’s not exactly the question you’re asking. You want to know if the significant age difference between an immortal character, you cited vampires, and a mortal is pedophilia. It’s not, but it is still messed up.

If you have an immortal who’s actively attracted to children, that’s pedophilia. Just like if you have a mortal character who does the same. If they’re 11-14, that’s hebephilia, 15-19 is ephebophilia. They’re still part of the larger range of paraphilic behaviors. It doesn’t particularly bother me when people lump all three of these together under one heading, they can all result in extremely harmful abuse, but Cullen is an excellent example of an ephebophile.

Also, while we’re dragging up specific paraphilias and talking about vampires, hematolagnia is the sexual fetishization of drinking blood.

If you have an immortal that’s attracted to adult mortals, that’s not technically a documented paraphilia, given that, in the real world, we don’t have vampires wandering around targeting college coeds, but the behavior would probably be a paraphilia in a world where this actually happened, with a few critical caveats.

It’s worth remembering that vampires are parasitic. For all their claims of being nocturnal predators, these are creatures that are dependent on feeding on others. So, we’re really talking about sexual relationships with a people-shaped mosquito. The vampire may simply be exploiting their victim’s sex drive to get dinner. That wouldn’t be paraphilic, also wouldn’t be romantic, no matter what the victim believed.

Also, while we’re on the subject, the idea of someone maintaining a romantic relationship with their food is strange. I’m also thinking of the line from What We Do in the Shadows, “If you’re going to eat a sandwich, you would just enjoy it more if you knew no one had fucked it.” But, the reasoning is sound.

Here’s an open question: Is it possible for an immortal to have a healthy relationship with a mortal at all?

Relationships with uneven power dynamics are possible, but extremely difficult and risky. When you’re talking about someone with significantly more life experience, holding them against someone who lacks that runs a serious risk for psychologically abusive behavior. This can happen in the real world when someone becomes involved in someone who’s significantly older. Ex: a college student and their professor. And, we’re just talking about normal humans, crank that out by adding an immortal, and the centuries spent practicing their social skills creates a very imbalanced situation.

Relationships require shared experiences. These don’t have to be things that happened while you were together, but it does require a common frame of reference. This in turn makes communication easier, as you’ll have a broader base of familiar concepts. Somewhat obviously, if someone has radically different life experiences, for example, they grew up in 14th century France and have been preying on humans for the last 600 years, that’s going to make a shared frame of reference a bit harder.

This isn’t insurmountable, but it means that, in order to have a healthy relationship, one participant is going to have to do a lot more to learn about the other. Specifically in the case of a mortal and immortal pairing, that will be a very asymmetric situation. Learning about 20 years you were there for, just doing other things, is vastly different from trying to learn about centuries of experiences in a non-academic context.

Also worth pointing out, this would be a problem for immortals pairing with each other. That said, they’d already have more shared context, and the idea that you’d see immortals bouncing off each other with centuries apart before reuniting isn’t really that strange. After all, they’d still have far more in common with each other than anyone else.

There is another, basically inevitable, outcome. Immortals who viewed mortals as an, “emotional sampler platter.” Because they’ll be around long after the human is dead, they wouldn’t take the time to create a serious emotional investment. Latching onto someone who caught their attention, and then abandoning them when their whims changed. Fueled by centuries of social skills, this could be trivial for them. Think of it as a slightly extended one night stand, but with the mortal unaware that they were just a passing fancy. There wouldn’t even be the potential for long term entanglements.

Granted, when we’re talking about immortals who have the capacity to convert others, (primarily thinking of vampires here, though there are other possible examples) you might have a slightly different set of dynamics. Still kinda messed up, and I wouldn’t expect that relationship to be healthy, long term. Especially since the mortal would, almost certainly, not be making a fully informed decision to become immortal.

The decision sounds deceptively simple, do you want to live forever? But the trade off is that you’ll be forever cutting yourself off from the vast majority of the world. You will live to see everyone you’ve known and cared about grow old and die (or, just die), while you’re trapped in amber, never aging. You’re also permanently anchoring yourself to a faction of immortals, probably with political baggage stretching back throughout human history. There’s no realistic way to stick all of that on the brochure when offered the possibility of immortality. Worse, if the immortal is acting out of infatuation, they’re not likely to go into the in depth history lesson of who pissed off whom in the Roman Republic and how that will affect your immortality. Even if they do, operationalizing that info into something you can understand is a stretch for someone who hasn’t graduated high school.

Stepping past all of that, you’ve heard the question, “where do you see yourself in five years?” Personally, I’ve never had an answer to that, but, “where do you see yourself in 500 years?” Fuck.

I’m looping around this topic, but problem ultimately is consent. If you have an immortal and mortal attempting to start a relationship, it’s very difficult for the mortal to provide informed consent. Even in situations where there’s no malicious intent it’s, at best, troubling. In most cases, it will be downright predatory.

If the frame of reference is Edward Cullen, he is sexually preying on, and psychologically abusing a teenager, using a mix of his experience and powers. It doesn’t help that Bella isn’t exactly the sharpest crayon in the box, but the entire situation is profoundly messed up.

-Starke

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Q&A: Immortals, Age Differences, and Consent was originally published on How to Fight Write.

#writing advice #writing immortals #writing reference

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