#I love when he asks me to draw unhinged shit

[gatorgrumbles]

My boyfriends latest request "Cell with choccy milk" enjoy

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♰ ⱠɆ₲łØ₦ ♰

♰ Pairings: demon!matz x chubby!fem!reader, demon!wooyoung x chubby!fem!reader, a sprinkle of demon!san x chubby!fem!reader, (eventual priest yeosang/jongho/yungi x chubby!fem!reader in the future)

♰ Genre: demon au/horror/smut

♰ Summary: Congratulations, darling! It's your destiny to be impregnated by four demons in an ancient Satanic sex ritual that'll lead to the birth of the Antichrist and bring about the end times. Now hop down into this demons' layer and let's get this thing going. Armageddon awaits.

♰ Word Count: 3.1kish

♰ Warnings: breeding kink, unprotected sex, no pulling out, double vaginal penetration, overstimulation, nipple play, breast play, rough sex, lots of breath play, ritualistic sex, scratching, a lil blood, oral sex (f receiving), sensory play, a lil nibbling, huge huge demon dicks so there's mucho vaginal stretching, the dicks can shapeshift (yes, shapeshift), demons give some dom vibes, reader's for sure subby, a lil possessiveness, demonic powers, religious themes, bondage, a lil choking, telepathy, your body's controlled via powers at some point, pet names (pet, little one, darling, good girl), and that should be it.

♰ A/N: Hold on, hear me out, I can explain. No, I can't. I'm a heathen. I like spooky shit and fucking demons so, ya know, here we are. This is the first part in a series I'm writing and it'll probably only get more unhinged from here honestly so, yeah, hop in babes. It's apocalypse time.

“And he asked him, ‘What is thy name?’And he answered saying, ‘My name is Legion, for we are many’” - Matthew 5:9

♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ Laberinto del Demonio ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰

Tucked away on the tree shrouded grounds of an aging Spanish manor, a labyrinth spirals deep into the earth. Beneath the lush grass and packed dirt, surrounded by the twisted roots of trees that feast upon the decaying corpses of those who attempt to intrude, this labyrinth is home to fearsome creatures who’ve peacefully slumbered here for hundreds of years. But tonight they awaken. For you. 

“Such a beautiful girl. Just let me…” Wooyoung compliments, fussing with a few flyaway strands of your hair. In the year that’s passed since Wooyoung came into your life all he’s done is fuss over you. You’ve never known a more attentive lover. Never met a man so intent on catering to your every whim.

Wooyoung likes to say that it’s the Fates that brought the two of you together but that’s more than a grave exaggeration on his part, it’s an outright lie. If he’d waited on the Fates it’d have been another 200 years before he stumbled upon a female descendant of your bloodline. Finding you by any means necessary, however brutal, was paramount to fulfill his mission and to soothe the heart that ached for what he lost when his love was stripped from him all those centuries ago.

Your resemblance to her is uncanny but everything else about you is incredibly unique. It stimulates him in endless ways, everyday with you marked by some new, exciting experience. He adores you beyond measure and the others, soaking you in through their collective consciousness, have grown incredibly fond of you too. 

“There. Perfect, as always” he smiles, taking a step back to admire your silk adorned figure glowing under the light of the moon.

Atop the labyrinth, you admire the torch lit staircase that spirals beneath you. It emits a certain energy that hangs heavy in the crisp autumn air, drawing you towards it. You know what awaits you tonight. Wooyoung went over it with you a dozen times in the last 24 hours alone. It’s something you long for, something that has your body flush with heat at the mere thought of. Yet you can’t seem to shake the nerves that have your fingers trembling as the handsomely dressed dark haired man takes your hand.

Wooyoung strokes your cheek and you soften at his touch, “Are you nervous, my pet?” 

“Not nervous. It’s just…” you sigh, nibbling at your inner lip, “What if I’m not who you think I am? What if I can’t handle it?” 

Wooyoung lets out a laugh you’ve come to liken to a jackal. Loud, mischievous, and undeniably his. “Can’t handle it? It’s that all you’re worried about?” 

He steps in closer to you, stealing a quick, passionate kiss from your crimson stained lips. “You were made for this. In every lifetime you have been and in every lifetime you’ll always be. Now come, the others are waiting.” You soak in Wooyoung’s words, forever a sponge ready to absorb his praise, and gift him the faint smile he needs to lead you forward.

Less forward, more down. 

Down past walls built of jagged stone, thick vines weaving between the cracks sprouting tiny emerald flowers you’ve never seen before. Down past ancient symbols carved in meticulously measured increments. It seems to be instructions of some sort. For what you aren’t sure but a tugging in the pit of your stomach tells you that you’ll soon find out. 

At last reaching the bottom of the labyrinth you find yourself in a cavernous room dimly illuminated by a hundred or so candles. At the center you spot a large pool of slithering black silk not unlike that which hugs your body. Wooyoung leads you to the center and, as he does, you feel the material begin to writhe against your skin. It snakes its way around your curves, exposing your plush figure to the warmth of the pit as you sense you’ve become one with it.

A chorus of voices begin whispering in your ear, invisible hands grasping at your most intimate areas. Wooyoung captures your lips in another kiss, already groaning at thoughts of what he has planned for you. His hands wander below your waist, fingernails growing sharper as they sink into the softness of your ass. You throw your arms around him, deepening the kiss, but he indulges you only for a brief moment before he begins to back away.

“Soon, my love” he says without speaking a word, “See you on the other side.” 

“Woo, wait!” you call out to him but a strong wind whips through the room, extinguishing the flames of the outer candles and swallowing him into darkness. The force of the wind knocks you off your feet but you land with no impact at all, the pit catching you in its embrace, thin strips of silk winding around your thighs. The air around you floods with laughter layered upon laughter, Woo’s melded somewhere in between. 

“Aah, finally I see her through my own eyes” a voice breathes out, tickling your spine. 

“Such a precious little human. So cute” another much deeper voice hums, the vibration ringing through your chest. 

“And she looks so, so…” a third voice chimes in, light as a feather, “Soft!” 

In the blink of an eye the silk wrapped around your thigh transforms into a hand, pitch black with razor sharp claws dripping a thick scarlet liquid down your leg. You let out a scream of absolute terror and it transforms back into the harmless material. It’s as if it were all in your head and the hand was never there to begin with.

“Seonghwa, you’re scaring her!” Wooyoung shouts and invisible arms envelope you, comforting you as your fear subsides. 

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry. I got a little carried away” Seonghwa apologizes, emerging from the pit in his human form.

He swims through the pit as if it were a pool, only his torso visible as he comes between your legs, his much gentler hands smoothing their way up your thigh. You don’t recognize the face of this beautifully androgynous creature but you’re positive you’ve felt his energy around you before.

“Is this better for you?” he asks, breath hitching at the sight of the slick, sweet arousal dripping from your core. 

“Seonghwa?” you moan his name for the first time as his tongue extends to flick your bud. “Woo’s told me so much about you.”

A shimmer of gold ripples across the dark pools that sit where his eyes should be, lips curling into a grin that’s both alluring and sinister. “Aah and what did he tell you about me? Good things?” he asks, his tongue whipping down to prod your tight hole. Seonghwa delights in the string of moans you release as he teases you, pushing his moist tongue into you little by little. Your walls eager to grant him entrance, stretching to accommodate the increasing thickness and length of his tongue. 

“Good? Y-yes, good” you breathe out, shocked at the depths his tongue manages to reach. There are no limitations, no bottoming out. He slips his way into every part of you. Tickling the back of your stomach, lapping at your walls in every direction at once. You can taste yourself on the back of your tongue, a sudden fullness in your throat suppressing your desperate moans. Your body’s no longer yours. It does only what he wishes it to. Moves only as he commands. 

“You’re being greedy. Share her. Now” something inhuman growls, breaking through the fog in your mind.

It’s not something you were meant to hear, the shedding of those performative voices existing solely for your comfort, but you’re far from afraid. On the contrary, such brutality laced with so much need has you clenching tighter, juices gushing out of you as Seonghwa’s tongue thrusts harshly into your core.

Seonghwa grunts defiantly, lifting you a few inches above the pit without laying a finger on you. Your arms dangle at your sides, fingertips grasping at nothing as your body arches against air. Droplets of your arousal run down your thigh, landing on the silk below and the creatures around you release a collective sigh of satisfaction. They can taste you, the ghost of your flavor lingering on their tongues. 

“You are like the other women in your bloodline…” the inhuman voice whispers, becoming more human the closer it gets, “Delicious.”

Two hands reach from outside of your field of vision to caress your plump breasts, firmly pinching your sensitive nipples. Your head falls to the side and you're met with another new face. This one more boyish in his handsomeness but more authoritative in his presence. Wooyoung told you that you’d know his leader when you met him. That you’d feel this immense need to gain his approval, to be as obedient to him as you can be.

“This is Hongjoong” you think and the leader smiles in response.

“Delicious and smart, mmm” he hums, leaning into your neck and breathing your scent deep into his lungs. “Let her speak.” 

The fullness vacates your throat at once, leaving you gasping for air, all those suppressed moans echoing off the labyrinth’s walls. Seonghwa’s tongue flutters softly inside of you now, his pace slowing just enough for you to speak. 

“You know what you’re here for, don’t you little one? Our Wooyoung’s explained it to you well?” Hongjoong asks, kissing you on the neck, his canines nicking at your smooth, fragrant flesh.

You let out a whine, adrenaline coursing through your veins, “Yes…he…everything…told me.”

Hongjoong laughs at your incoherence, finding it quite adorable, “And this is what you want? To let us have our way with you?” He releases one of your breasts, twisting the bud one last time before his hand's gliding down your body to grab handfuls of your belly. “To let us fill you with our seed and let it grow so that we’ll be, all of us, a family?” 

You’re fixated on him, a constellation of tears twinkling on your lashes, “I want it. I want this.” 

“Aah, then we shouldn’t waste any more time” Hongjoong sighs, gesturing to Seonghwa, “Let’s take her together, shall we?” 

Seonghwa’s tongue retreats slowly from your core in an S motion that makes the tip lash sharply at your walls on its way out. The space between you and the pit below begins to close, all current information misleading you to believe the arms you fall into will belong to Hongjoong.

“Relax your body and watch the skies” Seonghwa instructs as you fall against his chest and the vines between the stone walls climb their way up the ceiling. They radiate a vibrant amethyst, the sprouting emerald flowers emitting a sparkling dust that mists through the air. A trail of it drifts down the wall, drawing your attention to the shadows cast upon it by the light of the candles.

That’s when you see it. The silhouette of the creature crawling its way up your body. You’ve yet to feel him but he’s there, advancing up your figure, twisted horns brushing your cheek as it’s face meets yours. Hongjoong takes you carefully by the throat, tilting your head to face him in his human form, “The skies not the shadows, pet. Never our shadows.” It isn’t a threat and it need not be. Your obedience is promised, sealed with a kiss richer than any wine.

Hongjoong’s mouth sips hungrily from yours as he spreads your legs, the swollen head of his cock leaking arousal as it stretches your already soaked core. “Mmphmm” you whine between his lips, your lids squeezing shut the further he pushes into you. He grants pleasure to your walls unlike any the earthly realm could bring. He seems to transform inside of you, shifting into whatever he must to perfectly fill every ridge of your delicate pussy.

Your body wants to clench around him, to feel him as completely as it can but, no matter how hard you try, an invisible barrier prevents it. Anatomy 101 dictates that, with the size of what you’ve taken, there should be not a centimeter of free space. By all means you should be screaming in agony, not pouring out such blissful moans. But, as Woo said, you were made for this and so there’s room still when Seonghwa’s palms come to rest behind your knees, hips rising to lift his pulsing length into your warmth.

Your eyes fall open and Hongjoong breaks from the kiss, freeing you to gurgle and moan as you at last watch the skies. There’s no need for clenching now, no possible way for you to do so. Buried deep within you, they exist both as one and as two. As one when they thrust into you, their demonic growls contrasting the lightness of your moans. As two when they split at the head, charting their own courses to punish your tender nerve endings. 

Seonghwa nuzzles against your neck, licking beads of sweat from your shoulder before it extends down to trace your collarbone. Hongjoong cups one of your breasts, fingertips digging into its plushness as he purses his lips around your nipple, suckling at the bud. Seonghwa’s tongue envelopes your other breast, the tip of his tongue circling your nipple.

Your body’s overcome with an unnatural heat that ravages you like a wildfire. Your mind’s whirling as you think of everything and nothing at once. Your teary eyes remain glued to the skies—always the skies, never their shadows—and your senses begin to shift. No longer are you smelling the honeyed scent of the flowers, you’re tasting it. And what you smell are colors, amethyst and emerald now aromatic as if they were herbs. 

“You are such a beauty to behold” Hongjoong’s voice praises, breaking through the fractured barriers of your mind. 

Seonghwa’s voice coasts in after his. “We haven’t felt this alive in centuries” it says, tickling your consciousness as does the breath at the back of your neck. “Maybe we could keep her like this. Whining and quivering between us. Forever our plaything. Would you like that, darling?” 

Hongjoong dips a hand between your legs, gathering your slick and dragging his drenched fingers across your lips. His laughter rings out in your head, “I think she likes the idea of it. Maybe…”

“Aaah!” you let out a scream that cracks to pieces in your throat. You’re hit with a rush that makes you feel absolutely feral, your nails thrashing at Hongjoong’s back as it overtakes you. 

“Good girl” he coos, unphased by the blood trickling from his wounds, “Come your pretty little brains out for us.” 

Seonghwa allows your legs to drop, strips of silk reaching up to coil around your ankles. His arms come around your waist, keeping you in place to fuck into you harder and faster. Thrusting. Pulsing. Claiming you. Flooding you with their seed until it’s spilling from your core and you’re coming all over their cocks, soaking them in your juices. Never in your life have you felt this perfect. This complete.

It’s impossible to differentiate between the labored breathing shared between the three of you. Even as you drift down from your high your breaths all sound as if they’ve left the same body. You arrived at this place a human but maybe now not as much. A part of you has been given away and, if it means feeling this way forever, you don’t want it back. 

Seonghwa softly brushes your hair away from your cheek, showering it in kisses, “You’ll rest with us now.” 

“Don’t be afraid” Hongjoong says, kissing his way down your tummy, “It can get a bit dark down here.”

“Down where?” you ask weakly before you’re snatched beneath the surface of the pit. Instinctively you begin flailing your limbs in a desperate attempt to keep yourself from drowning but your panic’s soothed by the two sets of arms cuddling up to you.

Surrounded by their warmth, you let the darkness swallow you and drift off to sleep. 

♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ 2. Despertar ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰

“Woo!” you scream, shooting upright, your heart pounding in your ears. You can’t fathom how long you’ve been asleep, the finer details of the previous events lost in the haze of sleep. You look around for Woo, for any of them, but you’re met only with the light, sparkling mist that hung from the ceiling above the pit.

Stretching your aching legs you feel something slink across them. “Wh…what is this?” you gasp, watching the fluorescent vines curiously explore your figure. Flower buds bloom as the vines reach between your legs, curving to ride your thighs up and around your torso. 

“Pretty aren’t they?” Woo asks, appearing behind you without a sound. 

“Woo, you scared me!” you pout, tempted to elbow him in the shin for frightening you so terribly. 

Woo crouches down to loop his arms around you from behind. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you to be so easily frightened all things considered” he teases, resting his chin on your shoulder. A graceful wave of his hand and he’s plucked a flower from the vine, twirling it before your eyes. You marvel at its beauty, the emerald glow creating a halo around your irises.

“Where do these come from?” you ask, brimming with wonder.

There’s a rustling in a nearby corner, the silhouette of a broad shouldered man emerging from the darkness. He smiles at you as he steps into the light of the mist, striking you with his features. Woo tucks the flower behind your ear, pointing to the approaching man. “They come from the mountain.” 

The man kneels before you, his dimpled cheeks inches from your face, and the vines tighten around you at his will. “But you can call me San” he says, obviously as smitten with you as you are with him. “Are you ready for us, love?”

You swallow hard and take your last full breath of air before the vine’s snug around your neck. “Yes, mmm, ready” you moan softly, surrendering to the strength of the vines. 

San takes you by the chin, his thumb tracing your jawline, “Hmm, breaking you will be fun. Just try not to look down too much. Might get lightheaded.” 

“Down?” you ask, glancing around at the bed of vines. You put all of your focus into watching them, searching for something you might’ve missed. But they’re as they were before, humming and glowing, doing their master’s bidding.

San guides your head in the opposite direction, revealing the pit of writhing black silk and the room illuminated with candles. 

“Oh, darling, haven’t you figured it out yet? You aren't down there anymore” Wooyoung laughs, tossing a flower into the air and watching it drift down into the pit, “You’re up here.” 

[gamerwoo]

dumb/random things skz would do while ur dating

a/n: don’t ask me what this is or why i came up w it these are just Thoughts That I Have Sometimes 

-

chan: if he has spare time and gets bored, he’ll splice up voicemails or voice messages you’ve sent him to make you say random shit and then he sends it to you out of nowhere with absolutely zero context. it could be anywhere from the raunchiest, dirtiest things you’ve ever heard, to just straight up dumb things, to him making you say how amazing and great he is and how much you love him. either way, he thinks he’s hilarious

minho: literally just stares at you for no reason. you’re on your phone across the room and he’s staring. just deadpan staring. and once you notice and make eye contact he gives you a mean look like you were staring at him first and he’s mad about it. even after you look away, he’s still staring. if you ask what he wants he’ll be like “why tf are you staring at me?? get a hobby, freak”

changbin: actually expects you to open doors for him and pull out his chair and lay your jacket out over a puddle. if you don’t, he just stares at you and eyes the thing he wanted you to do for him. obviously you’d never put your jacket over a puddle when he could literally walk around it but he’ll scoff and dramatically roll his eyes and make some comment about “guess romance really is dead” or something dumb

hyunjin: maybe he used to actually sketch you really nicely at one point but now he’s comfortable with you and now the only times he draws you is a really rough and quick sketch that’s so poorly done and it’s always you making ugly faces and he just slides it over to you and goes “this is you rn" and it’s you looking very pissed off and with a unibrow and you’re shrimp-backing so hard

jisung: keeps making those powerpoint presentations for you about different topics but he only makes them between like 11pm-3am so the farther into it he gets, the weirder it gets and the less sense it makes. usually the topics don’t really make sense either, though. like the time he showed you ‘101 reasons why you should still love me as a worm :)’. but there was the time he presented you with ‘69 reasons why i love you’ and even though 25% of them were weird things like ‘your breath smells normal’ and ‘you haven’t committed a felony so i don’t have to have a long distance relationship with someone in prison’ you still thought it was pretty sweet

felix: if you think he won’t act like those cringey gamer couples, you’re so fucking wrong. whether he’s doing it ironically or seriously, he’s going to drag you into his shenanigans. your names on different games have to match. they’ve been shit like ‘their dps / his pocket’ and 'grilled cheese / tomato soup’ to unhinged things like ‘mike huchie / mike hunt’ and ‘blowing smoke / smoke’. he always thinks it’s so fucking funny but you want to die. your discord names are ‘their daddy / his kitten’ and whenever you change it, he changes it back

seungmin: he does literally anything and pretends it wasn’t him. plays with your hair while you’re cooking dinner, but when you turn to look at him, he looks around and starts whistling. he’ll knock your closed water bottle straight out of your hand for no reason and then shrug at you like it was the fucking wind. even when he kisses your cheek he’ll gasp and be like “who did that?”

jeongin: he’ll act cute or whatever when he wants something but god forbid you do it back. the amount of judging he’ll do will make you want to leave the house. “please don’t ever do that again, you’re embarrassing me” as if you didn’t just copy everything he’s ever done to you. he’s gone so far as to pretend he doesn’t know you out in public over this. only he can be cute to get his way. if you do it, it’s cringe

[borathae]

"You should have known. Taehyung is a connoisseur for a good hunt after all. He loves to drag it out, to take his time and play with his prey until their resources are used up. The catch isn’t most pleasurable to him, but the path leading up to it. You know him so well and yet you still thought that you could get him to lose control so easily. Oh how naïve you were."

Pairing: Vampire!Taehyung x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, polyamory!AU, Smut

Warnings: pussy wetting porn, soft & hard Dom!Taehyung, whiney sub!Reader, she's a tease in the beginning, until he shows her what a real tease looks like, he kneels and kisses her feet in gratefulness, period sex, lotsa blood, he licks it from her pussy, and does some other kinky shit with it but it's a surprise besties, sloppy oral (f.receiving), pussy fingering, gentle pussy fisting bitches, rough sex in multiple positions and locations (including his bed, the window, atop a dresser, his atelier), dirty talk, praise, good girl kink, degradation (he calls her his greedy slut), sexy possessiveness, Sir kink, huge vampire dicks, fangs, nipple play, marking, scratching (m.receiving), choking (f.receiving), strength kink, he's unhinged and feral, multiple intense orgasms for her, overstimulation, she's a lil masochist <3, Tae uses her pussy as his personal fleshlight, creampies, she subdrops but he reassures her, the softest aftercare, they're in love and kinky!!

Wordcount: 9.2k

a/n: i need to be restrained and put in a cage. cue brittany brosky's voice i am gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure 😶

You know where to find your darling. It is a rainy night and the air is chilly enough to make staying inside wonderful. There is only one place in the estate where Taehyung loves to be during those times. His atelier, painting and drawing away. The doors to it are open, the faintest of jazz music enters the corridors. He is painting. Just as you had figured. You know him so well.

You enter his atelier with a faint knock on his door.

“Tae darling?”

“Yes, my darling?” Taehyung asks with his full attention on you instantly. He even places his paint brush aside without breaking his eyes away from you for even a millisecond. He sniffles as if he noticed something, but stays quiet otherwise. His eyes scan you from head to toe and yet he still doesn’t say anything.

You close the distance between you and him. 

“I got my period today.” 

“I knew that I smelled something on you. Oh my darling, do not worry. I can get you everything you need”, he says and stands up to hurry to you, “just make me a list and I will drive to the store right away, unless you need a massage or hugs. Oh, I can give you everything.”

“You’re so sweet”, you say, “but I don’t need any of those things.”

“Yes? Then I shall keep my distance and talk only when necessary.”

“No, not that either.”

“What else could you possibly need?”

“Tae, I’m not wearing protection right now and it’s leaking into my panties.” 

Taehyung furrows his brows, “...yes? I…shall I buy you new sanitary products?”

“No, you,” you chuckle.

Taehyung chuckles as well eventhough he is very clearly confused. 

“Help me clean myself, Tae.”

“Oh, of course! Oh darling, why didn’t you say so sooner? Come, I shall run you a hot shower and scrub your back”, he says and takes your hand to walk off. 

You however pull him back, using the momentum to twirl him.

Taehyung laughs and falls into you.

“Darling, don’t do that.”

You fix him so he was facing you again.

“You didn’t understand me.”

“Okay?”

“Kneel, Taehyung.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Kneel for me.”

Taehyung falls to his knees as if it was instinct. He even places his hands in the proper position, looking up at you with questioning puppy eyes.

“I don’t seem to understand”, he confesses.

“Clean me, Taehyung”, you tell him and step closer. 

The sweet scent of your bleeding, warm pussy overtakes his senses. He tries not to, but still looks at your middle. You are wearing nothing more than an oversized cashmere cardigan and a pair of cotton panties. They are white, but soaked in blood. He feels his senses blur. You look and smell temptatious.

“Darling”, Taehyung croaks, pressing his legs together, “you are torturing me. I can smell but you.”

“Clean me, Taehyung”, you repeat your order and something seems to click in Taehyung’s brain

His head snaps up, his face is fallen in shock.

“What, what do you mean? What does this mean? What?” he stutters, blinking rapidly. 

You smile tauntingly, “you heard me. I’m messy and need you to clean me.” 

“But darling. Darling, you are covered in blood”, Taehyung is salivating as he speaks. His fangs are glistening in the lights. He is so consumed by your scent, aching to bury his face in your sweet heaven and yet he seems so perfectly in control.

“I know and I need a vampire to clean it.”

“___”, Taehyung presses out, “are you certain? What about Yoongi? I do not want him to think that I am feeding from you again. I don’t want to cause a fight.”

“Yoongi cleaned me too.”

“Pardon?” this confession is the most shocking to Taehyung. Obviously.

“Yeah”, you giggle, “do you remember last month? When I didn’t leave Yoongi’s wing for days?”

“Yes.”

“That was when I accidentally started my period in his bed and he ate me out like an animal.”

"Now this is", Taehyung scoffs, shaking his head, “you are having a jest with me.”

You shake your head, continuing your story.

“He proceeded to keep me captive for the rest of my period to literally take me in far too many ways and positions and rooms and…yeah. Phew.”

“You are telling the truth?!”

“Yes. Of course I am”, you say and snicker at Taehyung’s shocked expression.

“Darling, I am flabbergasted. Yoongi drank your blood?” 

“He didn’t drink my blood. He ate my pussy, which just so happened to be bleeding, but that’s beside the point. He knows that I’m here and what I want to do with you. He doesn’t mind.” 

“Are you certain? Are you truly certain?” 

“Yes Tae, I’m certain. You’re the only one who can clean me right now.”

"Are, are you truly certain?"

"Every second wasted with talking means my panties are getting messier and messier", you say and lift your cardigan just slightly to reveal more of you to him.

Taehyung looks at it and crumbles.

“Darling you”, he touches your calves, looking up at you with devoted, starstruck eyes, “I exist to worship you. Every waking second should be spend being your greatest admirer. I-” 

He stops talking to instead bow down in front of you. Not only that, but to also kiss your feet. Every inch of them. Toe by toe and instep by instep. He kisses your feet as shaky mutters of “thank you” and “oh, how I am devoted to you” interrupt his needy sounds of admiration.

You let it happen with a racing heart. He looks so good worshiping your feet. 

“My goddess”, he says, hugging your legs and burying his nose deep in your middle. He inhales deeply, letting out a guttural moan, “oh my beautiful, bleeding goddess. I am delirious from your scent”, his voice is muffled from your body. 

You giggle, ruffling his hair. 

“You seem happy.”

“I am happy. I ache for your taste day by day. Oh my sweetest, you smell so wonderful.”

He tilts his head up, still hugging your legs. His eyes are ruby, his cheeks covered in black veins. You caress them, ending it by tugging a strand of hair behind his ear.

“You’re such a darling”, you speak softly, giving him a fond smile.

Taehyung buries his nose back in you, inhaling as much of you as his lungs allow him.

“Oh darling”, he moans as he exhales, shuddering uncontrollably, “how I want you.”

“You can have me. You know?”

“I know, oh I know”, he says and stands up, “I shall not take you here”, he says, sweeping you off your feet bridal style.

You squeal and giggle, falling around his neck for support. You don’t feel scared at all. He is your strong darling after all. Your weight feels like nothing to a vampire like him. He carries you with ease, basking in your giggles as you willingly let him kidnap you.

The journey ends in his bedroom. He places you atop his king sized bed, giving you no time to get used to the solace as he claims the space above you. Your cardigan got messed up from the movement, having slipped off one of your shoulders to reveal your skin to him.

Taehyung lowers his lips to your shoulder instantly, kissing your every inch from the very top of your shoulder down to where your collarbone blends into your sternum. His hands are on each side of your head, his knees are caging in your hips and yet he puts no weight on your lap. The distance aches. To have his weight so close, his touch even closer and not to receive it makes you restless. You squirm on the sheets, reaching up just to grasp his wrists.

“Patience”, Taehyung guides his lips to the shell of your ear just so he can seduce you with his sultry whispers, “I like to take my time with an exquisite meal.”

Being known so well by him makes you squirm once more. All you needed to do was to touch his wrists and he knew what you were craving most.

“I’m getting everything messy”, you sigh in hopes of warming his heart. 

Taehyung chuckles deeply, kissing a path along your face until he reaches the other side of your neck to worship.

“This is the fun part”, he rasps and shakes his right hand free from your weak grasp to instead run it down your body.

You writhe into the touch, shivering intensely when he slips it under your cardigan to palm at your skin. Just for a few seconds and without ever touching your breasts, then he already slips it out again to dance it to your hip.

“The savouring you is the best part, my darling”, he teases, playing with the hem of your panties, “it gets you so wet”, you can feel his smirk against your skin, hear it in his voice, “and messy”, he adds, kissing the spot where your pulse races like crazy in your neck.

“Tae”, you mewl, arching into him.

This isn’t what you expected when you came to him for aid. You expected him to lose composure like Yoongi did. You expected him to take you and pin you, giving you no chance to escape as he selfishly takes what is his’. You wanted him to be the one panting and gasping as control slipped from his fingers with each lick and yet he is having you in a tight grip. He is in perfect control while you feel dizzy in desperation.

You should have known. Taehyung is a connoisseur for a good hunt after all. He loves to drag it out, to take his time and play with his prey until their resources are used up. The catch isn’t most pleasurable to him, but the path leading up to it. You know him so well and yet you still thought that you could get him to lose control so easily. Oh how naïve you were.

“Darling, you are squirming so much”, Taehyung rasps, holding your hips down with gentle strength, “what’s the matter? Am I rushing you?”

“No”, you mewl, shaking your head.

“No?”

You shake your head more vigorously, wiggling your hips under his grip.

“Look at you trying to squirm”, he taunts, “don’t tell me that you believed me to lose control like Yoongi did, mhm?”

You mewl from being so exposed. It should embarrass you, but it only makes you crave him more. 

Taehyung chuckles deeply, guiding his long fingers to your tummy just to play with your panties there.

“You should know me better by now”, he rasps, slipping his fingers inside just to toy with your pubes. He is obsessed with them, twirling and tugging on them gently to truly rile you up.

“Tae, please”, you try begging, making him smirk against your neck. 

He retreats his touch, drawing circles into the softness of your stomach. You want him so bad. 

“Open your cardigan for me.”

You obey even before he finishes his sentence. There are three buttons keeping you modest. You open them as quickly as possible, tugging the cardigan open to expose yourself to him. You slip it off your arms, letting it lay under you as you can’t be bothered to remove it completely. 

“Good girl”, Taehyung praises and sits up. He is kneeling, but still doesn’t put his weight on your lap. This is for show. To make you aware that he doesn’t need his weight to keep you pinned for him. His presence is enough to make you obedient.

Taehyung runs his eyes over your body, keeping his hands rested on his own thighs. The fabric of his linen pants stretches around them, bulging at his cock. He is hard. At least this he can’t hide from you. Even if he pretends to be in perfect control otherwise, at least his cock shows how much you affect him.

“Mhm”, he purrs, “beautiful.”

He looks at your panties. They are red in blood. His eyes flicker ruby. Finally another reaction. You part your legs upon seeing it, aching for him to act.

“How much do you treasure these undergarments?” he asks.

“They’re old and a little uncomfy”, you tell him.

“Good. Then I am sure you don’t mind if I do this”, he says and slips his fingers under the hem of them. He picks up a piece of them and looks at you, “may I?”

“Yeah…please.”

“So eager”, he chuckles and begins ripping the fabric, going carefully and slowly. It takes everything inside you not to squirm and beg him for more. Taehyung rips your panties at the other side as well, going just as slow and careful. It is as if he was opening a present or unwrapping a piece of candy. He does it with such a light-heartedness while you feel like shivering in desperation.

You lift your hips the second he managed to rip your panties apart. Taehyung chuckles and tugs the ruined fabric away.

“So eager”, he says, lifting your panties into his field of vision. He inspects them, parting his lips to show off his fangs. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, his ruby eyes flit to you, “this is your last chance to stop this, darling.”

“I don’t want to stop.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes!” you insist loudly, “please Tae, don’t tease me anymore.”

He chuckles, “you’re such a delight, my darling”, he says and places your panties aside. He climbs off your lap, placing his hands on your thighs to push them apart. Not that he has to do a lot of work. The second he touched your thighs, you opened your legs for him. He meets your desperate eyes, giving you a knowing smile.

“So eager”, he speaks softly and sickeningly sweet. Oh, the things he manages to do with nothing but his voice.

“Please Tae, I’m messy.”

“Mhm, not messy enough”, he says and connects two of his fingers with your aching heat. 

“Ah”, you gasp, chasing the touch the second you received it. It feels so good. His fingers are so careful and his skin so soft. You needed his touch so incredibly much.

“So wet”, Taehyung whispers, dragging his fingers through your folds in a slow massage, “look at it covering your every inch. Darling, I crave you.”

He leaves out your clit on purpose, riling you up each time he swerves past it.

“More”, you try in hopes of persuading him, chasing his gentle touch.

“May I feel you inside?”

“Yes”, you exhale shakily, “yes please, Tae.” 

“Thank you so much”, he says and lets two of his fingers disappear inside you. You gasp and arch your back. They slip in so easily, fill you up so much. Taehyung watches your face for reactions and when he sees that no sign of discomfort crinkle it, he finally looks at your reddened cunt. Truly, how messy you are. It looks like the most delicious meal to Taehyung, forcing him to gulp heavily from all the saliva gathering in his mouth. He moves his hand, fingering your soft walls with gentle precision.

“Tae…” you sigh, letting your legs fall open. His fingers are so long, touching just where it feels the best.

“You feel wonderful, my darling”, he praises, curling his fingers, “you feel so tender inside. Tell me, are my fingers comfortable?”

“Yes”, you sigh, nodding your head vigorously.

“Oh, you feel so much more tender than on other days”, he whispers and slips another finger inside.

“A-ah”, your breath hitches in your throat, your fingers twist the sheets. To be so filled with Taehyung will never lose its spark.

“Breathe, my darling. You are tightening”, he orders you, soothing the stretch by drawing circles on your clit with his thumb. You are so wet from your period that the touch comes easy.

You inhale shakily, exhale in a tremble. You can’t control your walls from clenching, not when he makes you feel so good. You need to feel him as close as possible, so clenching comes natural to you.

“There we go. I need you to relax, otherwise I can’t prepare you for my length”, he speaks sweetly, soothing your trembles with gentle rubs to your lower stomach, “you are doing so well already.”

“Oh god…Tae”, you press out, rolling your head to the side in weakness. Being praised by him will always ruin you. You roll your hips up into his touch, moaning his name because this is all you can think of right now. Taehyung and only Taehyung.

He rewards your eagerness with yet another finger. He watches with deep red eyes as his pinkie finger slips into your wet cunt, how you welcome him and how you fit so perfectly around him.

“Four fingers darling, you are taking four of my fingers”, he rasps, keeping them still inside you to get you used to the stretch. He knows that it can be overwhelming and he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. Yet.

“Tae ple-please”, you get out in a shaky breath, reaching down to squeeze the hand he keeps on your stomach. You hold it with both hands, squeezing it so terribly much.

“Hurts?” he makes sure, caressing your skin.

You shake your head vigorously, grinding into his touch. His fingers slip deeper. Taehyung feels how your walls throb around his digits, tensing his own thighs as his every fiber tells him to ruin you. If you think that he wasn’t affected by all of this, you were wrong. It takes every ounce of self-control for Taehyung to stay as calm as he pretends to be right now. There are voices in his head. Distorted, tempting voices telling him to devour you, to use the advantages his curse gives him and take you as his sweetest meal.

But Taehyung has a plan. He wants this meal to be as perfect as possible. He wants you to think about it during random times of your day and feel so utterly affected by it that you falter in whatever you were doing a few moments ago, perhaps you even gasp for air and trace the spots he touched as you tried to relive the memory.

Taehyung needs to ignore the voices for the sake of the perfect feed. There is no other way.

You thrust your hips again, pulsating around his hand as your cunt swallows it hungrily. How wet you are inside, how warm and soft. Taehyung can touch your cervix this way, forcing you to keep still by pressing down on your tummy again. You squeeze his hand, whimpering his name while your hips give up without a fight.

“Stay still, don’t disobey”, he orders, pulling his fingers out just a little in order to give your tender cervix a break, “if you keep wiggling, it will hurt.”

“But it, it feels so good”, you get out and whimper, scratching at his hand gently as you try to grasp more, “Sir feels so good.”

Taehyung groans, furrowing his brows. Ruin her. The voices tempt him. Take her and break her. They taunt him.

“Darling”, he presses out through gritted fangs, “fuck, you make me act up”, he spits and gives into his desires.

He pins you down with his weight, wrapping his blood-soiled hand around your throat to press down on your veins.

Dizziness claims your brain instantly, a squeaky gasp leaves your lips. You meet his gaze, meeting desperate craze in it. His pupils are so blown-out that they almost swallow the red, the black veins pulsate on his cheeks. He is breathing heavily and shakily, doing so in deep, desperate breaths.

“How dare you call me such titles. Do you have any idea what this does to me?” he is growling his words with a hint of demonic raspiness in his voice. He tilts your head up with a tight grip on your throat, “what I want to do to you when you talk like this?”

“Sir”, you choke out, grasping his strong lower arm. It feels so good to be choked. It finally feels as if you are breaking his composure. You couldn’t escape his grasp even if you tried as hard as you can, but you aren’t scared. You are so entirely happy to be here.

Taehyung’s features darken, his unoccupied hand grasps your hands and guides them down your body. He lodges them between your waist and his thighs, turning you unable to move them. You can’t even wiggle them, let alone change their position. He is so strong and you are utterly at his mercy.

“Stop calling me this”, he hisses and slams his hand into the pillow beside your head. He moves in closer, breathing deeply. He shudders and growls. His blood-soiled hand covered your entire neck in blood, tempting him to taste you. He moves in closer, rolling your head to the side to reveal your vulnerable neck to his lips. He inhales again, moaning deliciously.

Your heart is racing. The grip around your neck lessened, but you still feel dizzy.

“How I need you”, he gets out and moves in. His bloodied fingers leave your neck, his dripping tongue replaces them. You tense up and moan, feeling burning electricity shoot through your veins.

Taehyung moans and presses himself closer, feasting on your neck as if it was the first meal he ever tasted. He missed this so much that he almost starts crying. And to have it taste like your sweet cunt as well, oh Taehyung has to reach up and grab the edge of the pillow, caring rather little about soiling it with blood. He pins you deep into the mattress, increases the pressure on your arms. You shouldn’t escape him. Not when he finally has the taste of your blood under his tongue. By the time, he has finished cleaning one side, your flesh is bruised and sensitive. He didn’t bite you, even if his fangs kept gracing your skin, but the sensitivity is still intense.

“You are my downfall”, he is panting, fixing your head so your other side was exposed, “I want to ruin you”, he adds and latches himself onto your tender neck.

“Sir”, you whimper, lying completely still even if you want to writhe and squirm and arch your back. It feels so good. His mouth is so much hotter than on normal days.

Taehyung worships your neck almost every time you and he are intimate. You know how good it feels, but this feels different. This kind of worship, you always received when the taste of your blood was involved and you forgot how much better it feels. His mouth is burning, his tongue so wet and eager, his sucks are inhumanly desperate and his fangs keep tickling your skin. You feel so dizzy, whimpering his title because this is all you can do.

“Oh darling”, he chokes out shakily, abandoning your cleaned and sensitive neck to lick down your body. He releases your arms this way, but you are too weakened to move them.

Taehyung changes your positions as he eagerly explores the paths down to your cunt. He reaches just about under your ribcage when everything is taking too long for him and he uses his powers. His arms grip your legs, using the leverage to turn you on the mattress so you are facing the side of his bed. He proceeds to tug you to the edge of it, falling to his knees before you as his arms pull your hips off the sheets and he can bury his face in your bloodied cunt. This is the only position which allows him to suffocate himself with you and it is also the only way he can truly make sure that you can’t flee. With his arms having an iron grip around your thighs and his hands digging deep into the softness of you, he has you where he wants you. Spread open and cunt on top his face.

He growls deeply, shutting off his better senses as your sweetened taste claims his tongue.

“Tae”, you moan, arching your back even if it is hard to do so in the current position, “ah! Oh god! What t-the hell? Ah!”

The thing about Taehyung’s nose? It is beautiful, ethereal, sculpted by the heavens and goddamn fucking perfect to grind against a sensitive pussy. And the thing about Taehyung? He is crazy enough to do it. Even if this gets his face messy and bloody, even if it means that your scent makes his eyes water from the intensity of it and even if you reach down and pull his hair. You pull so hard, so desperately and it does nothing. Taehyung fucks your sensitive pussy with his nose as deep growls vibrate against it. And while he grinds his perfect nose against your throbbing clit, his dripping tongue fucks your hole at inhuman speeds. He needs to get everything. Every single droplet of your taste. He is delirious from the sweetness, bruising your thighs on accident because of how tightly he grips you.

“Fuck, your taste”, he is cursing, growling the words against your cunt. It means a lot when he curses. He only does so when he is especially emotional. And right now every single emotion runs on nothing but you and your taste. He is consumed by you just as much as he consumes you. He doesn’t even care about etiquette, dirtying his face as he slurps loudly. 

Taehyung is a very mannerly feeder. Not many vampires carry such etiquette when they feast, but Taehyung likes to be orderly and neat. He rarely gets his face dirty, let alone make obscene sounds, but you make him forget about every single thing he ever learned about manners. He needs to get dirty, he needs to be disgusting and loud and consume your every drop. 

Too long he had to go without your taste and now that he finally has it again – in such a wonderful way on top of it – he is greedy. Manners be damned, he needs to eat you until you have nothing more to give. 

“Oh god Tae, oh god, oh god”, you are gasping and chanting and fighting for air, pulling at his hair even if you know that it is fruitless. He is locked onto your pussy. No hair pulling in the world could get him away from you now. His nose is punishing your clit for crimes she never committed while his mouth sucks and licks you dry. 

This is the level of desperation you wanted from him and now that you have it, it feels like too much. Not in a way where you truly want him to stop, but in a way which will force you to orgasm even if you had no intention of doing so already.

“You’re the worst, oh god urgh”, you choke out and break, suffocating him with your pussy as he forces you to orgasm. You gasp for air, sob, “you’re so mean. Tae please.”

Taehyung growls into you, pulling you closer. He can’t breathe, at least not normal air. The scent of your blood and orgasm is the only air he receives. He regrets his entire life at this moment because he wonders why he didn’t think of eating your pussy during your period sooner. Oh he missed out on so much. What a fool he was. He presses himself closer, searches for more of your taste even if you are flinching in overstimulation.

“Please a break, please”, you beg, writhing in agony, “please Sir, please!”

Taehyung breaks away from you even if it is difficult. You begged for it and he can’t deny you. He fixes your positions again, making it so you are resting with your head facing the headboard and he is between your legs. It’s so easy for him to push and pull you around. Especially when he has you so weakened from pleasure.

He is pressing his clothed cock against your thigh while his ruined mouth attacks your nipples. He is rubbing his face against them first, soiling your skin with your blood just so he can lick it off of you. He needs to cover every inch of you in your red nectar just to lick it off. Oh how he needs it. 

“Oh god, Tae you are so mean”, you get out breathlessly, “I, I didn’t want to cum. Oh god.”

“Do not speak to me of cruelty when you exist to ruin me”, he gets out, lifting his head, “why would you do this to me? Why?” he is asking you, cupping your face to shake your head in desperation, “what have I ever done to you? Tell me.”

You look at him. His face is a mess, covered in your blood. It soaks parts of his hair as well and sticks to spots on his throat. His eyes are dark red, bordering black and his face is just slightly contorted as his monstrous side fights for dominance. You know that he is winning by only a hair’s width right now.

“Why must you do this to me? Isn’t it enough that I dedicate my every fiber to you? Why must you seduce me with your bleeding heaven? Why?” he asks you and presses his cock against your pussy.

“Tae”, you squeak, flinching in reaction. He feels so heavy and big, grinding down on you even if you are so incredibly sensitive.

He thrusts into you as if he was already fucking you, sliding his hands to the crown of your head. He holds you with enough strength that you have to look at him if you wanted to or not.

“I need you to push me away”, he croaks, “push me away. It is the only way to stop me from ripping my clothes off and fucking you until you have to relearn how to walk.”

The thing is. The small break he gave you as he sucked your nipples and begged for answers you didn’t possess, was enough for you. You want more. You want him. All of him.

“I don’t want to push you away”, you tell him, reaching up to open his shirt.

“Don’t do this. Don’t do this if you aren’t ready to bear the consequences”, he warns you, dropping your face to instead twist the pillow. The voices are screaming at him. Claim her! She is yours to take, so take her! It is so difficult to stay human when remnants of your taste still linger on his tongue.

You pull open his shirt and touch his nipples. Taehyung growls. 

“Don’t. I am warning you”, he gets out. 

Your lips curl into a dangerous smirk, “you can teach me how to walk, can’t you? Sir.”

“Fuck”, he breaks. He rips his own clothes off his body before claiming the space atop you. He grips your leg and pulls you close, slapping his heavy cock against your pussy in an almost punishing way. 

You flinch and moan softly, feeling your senses blur. It hurts, but you like it. Taehyung does it again, forcing incredible pleasure through your pussy. 

“Do you really want this?” he asks as he repeatedly drags his cock through your swollen folds, ending it with an aggressive spank to your clit each time.

“Yes”, you sigh, parting your legs further and arching your tits closer to him.

“Beg me.”

“Please Sir, please”, you beg gladly. 

“You’re such a good little slut. I trained you so well”, he lulls and pushes his thick cock past your soaked entrance. He slips in without resistance, forcing a trembling breath to slip past his lips, “such a good slut”, he presses out, scrunching his nose in pleasure.

He hits your limit. You are so much tighter than on other days. Taehyung still has a good two inches he could fit. The thought turns him on so much. That he fills you out to your literal brim and he still has more to offer. And he is only showing off his human size right now. He is so big. Oh, how it fills him with pleasure and confidence.

“Oh”, you let out, growing limp underneath him. Your eyes flutter closed.

“Keep your eyes open”, he orders darkly.

You obey even if it is difficult.

“That’s better. Keep them on me”, he speaks demandingly, fucking his huge cock into you in dragged-out, maddening strokes, “I need you to look me in the eyes as you realise what all of this begging will get you. You think you can handle me? You think that not pushing me away is a good idea? That I will not completely rewrite your definition of pleasure? Sweetest, you have driven me to the brink of insanity with your endless begging”, he rasps, curling his lips back to show off the two pairs of fangs in his mouth. You know what this means and how feral you have gotten him.

“Tae”, you sob, grabbing his chest because this is as far as your weakened arms can go.

“What’s the matter? Does it hurt?” he asks. Even now he checks up on you. Even when he speaks of insanity and looks like a monster, he checks up on you. Bear in mind, the question carried a hint of teasing to it, but more than anything it was honest and came from a loving heart.

“No”, you whimper.

“But?”

“You feel so good”, you wail, squeezing your eyes shut as your body trembles in pleasure.

“Mhhm sweetest”, Taehyung purrs, burying himself deeper inside you. He is holding back tonight. You are so tender inside, your changed anatomy allows for his human size to barely fit. If he allowed the monster to take over, he fears that he might rip you apart. He could never rip you apart, even if the voices tell him to. No, he won’t let them win. He will break you in his way. Fuck you until your spirit is broken and you exist for him. This is so much more fun either way.

So he fucks slow and he fucks precise. He knows a woman’s body well enough to be aware that sometimes less is more. That all a woman needs are precise, attentive grinds against her spots so deep inside.

His own instincts tell him to fuck fast, to drill you and reshape your insides, but he knows not to rush it. Drag it out. He is still in control of the voices. Drag it out. Keep the hunt going. This isn’t the last time he will taste you tonight. The feed isn’t over. This is just another part of the chase.

The attentive, precise fuck he gives you is hard to handle. You think that you could manage a lot better if he drilled you like a dumb animal. But this? This ruins you on another level. You claw at his chest and try to get him closer by wrapping your legs around him. You manage to drape them over his thighs weakly and that is as far as you can go before the mindnumbing pleasure makes you shake.

“Tae”, you sob, spilling tears and scrunching your face up while Taehyung looks at you with a sense of tranquillity surrounding him. You are so ruined while he barely lets it show.  

“Look at me”, he says into the symphony of moans and shaky breaths.

You obey even if it is hard.

“Did I ever tell you why I am calling you my sweetest?” he asks.

“No”, you whimper.

Taehyung leans closer, letting his hot breath swirl over your lips. His cock bends and stretches you out even more. 

“Because there is no taste sweeter than you”, he rasps and purrs, writing his name on your deepest spots while his eyes flash up bright red.

“Tae”, you squeakily beg, “Tae, I need to cum again.”

“Yes? Just like this? I am barely even moving and it is making you climax?” 

“Yes”, you whimper.

“Of course it does. You are such a good little slut for big cock. I know you darling, you’re so sensitive and so overstimulated and yet you still beg for more”, he speaks tauntingly while his cock makes the sweetest love to your deepest spots. The pleasure sits in your tummy. So, so deep that it gets hard to concentrate. You feel on fire and he hasn’t even broken you yet. 

“Hm, sweetest? Are you my greedy cock slut?”

You nod your head. 

“Then tell me or I’ll stop fucking you.”

“I’m…greedy- ah”, you squeeze your eyes shut, “you’re making me cum.”

“Not so fast”, Taehyung slows down but moves his hips just right to keep you on edge. The build-up isn’t ruined, but dragged out for as long as he sees fit.

“Please”, you squeak.

“Use your words and I will reward you. Come now, don’t disobey me”, he encourages you, caressing your cheek gently.

You try again because you don’t want to disobey him. 

“I’m your, ah, your cock slut. Ah, Tae please. Please let me cum, please.”

“You are such a good girl. Sir is so proud of you. My bestest girl”, he praises and rewards you with deep, circular motions against your sensitive spots. This is going to break you and he knows it.

“I’m cumming. Tae, thank you”, you sob and arch your back, “ah! Tae!”

“That’s it. You’re doing such a good job. That’s my good girl. That’s it”, he is talking you through it, dragging out your orgasm to the point where you grip the sheets and twist them. 

But Taehyung isn’t satisfied. Yes you are gripping the sheets, but this is not what you should grip. Not when his body is right there. Unmarked. He isn’t done with you yet until he has you hurting him from pleasure.

“I am not done with you yet”, he is purring his words, keeping an obsessive grip on your left hip, “tell me to stop. Tell me to fucking stop, I can’t do it on my own.”

“Don’t stop, please.”

“Shit”, Taehyung growls and takes your hands just to pin them above your head. He speeds up his hips, finally using momentum to drill his cock into you. It sounds wet. So wet. Embarrassingly wet even. And harsh. His skin connects with yours in loud slaps while the springs of his bed creak in protest. Truly, it is a wonder that the furniture in this estate survived as long as it did.

“Oh god”, you gasp and writhe, “oh god, oh god, oh god. Ah!”

“Tell me to stop. Tell me, darling”, he is panting, staring at you with deep red eyes. Your blood is lingering on his skin and filling his nose with a maddening scent. Your orgasm sticks to his cock and mixes with your sweet scent. You are pulsating in your afterglow, burning hot because he doesn’t allow the fire to die down. He is so furiously desperate for you. 

You shake your head.

“Faster please”, you beg.

“This is not what you were supposed to say. Oh, you greedy, insatiable woman. I can’t stop”, he rasps and moans, dropping on top of you and knocking a squeak out of you. 

He reaches above your hands, growling into your neck. His long fingers grip the pillow and twist. The cover rips within a second. His back muscles flex and twitch as his body shudders in the pleasure of being with you. 

“I can’t stop myself”, he growls and picks you up. He runs with you in his arms and on his cock until your back hits something icy.

You squeak, looking around yourself. You are outside his bedroom, fucking against the tall windows of his corridor. Outside the night is dark and ominous while inside, Taehyung takes you against the cold windows in a pitch black corridor. The only light source is his bedroom. The door is thrown open from his strength, the golden light paints a rectangle on the marble floor and red carpet. It hues Taehyung’s body in it as well, creating a play of shadow and light. His pearls of sweat are glistening in it, while his black, pulsing veins seem especially dark and throbbing. He lifts his head from your neck, giving view to the deep red of your blood, his burgundy eyes and the ebony mess of his hair sticking to his features. 

“Tae”, you keen, feeling light-headed. The coldness of the window feels miniscule in comparison to the fire he lets you experience.

“I have to take you against every surface of this wing until the very fibres of this building know your every moan”, he chokes out as he bounces you on his cock. Quick and punishing. Your tits bounce, your pussy squirts red pleasure and your limbs can barely hold on. You throw your head back and wail. 

Wail in pleasure because nothing feels better right now than Taehyung's cock reshaping your insides. 

“Yes darling, show them. Show them how my good girl sounds as I fuck her.”

“Tae I have to- again!”

“Climax as often as you need to. I won’t stop you.” 

“Tae!”

And as you shake in his arms and soil his entire lower body with your bloody orgasm, Taehyung slows down to drag it out again. He fucks you deep, slow and punishing until you claw at his shoulders to the point of open scratches. And then, only then, he pulls you closer. Your back leaves the window, his cock fills you up so deep. Movement. Clattering of stuff hitting the ground. Next, wood under your body and Taehyung holding your legs apart.

This is the drawer he keeps by the entrance of his wing. Normally he keeps his outdoor essentials on it, but they are currently on the floor as he uses the piece of sturdy furniture to fuck you into a state of senselessness. The light of the atelier shines onto the corridor and gives you a chance to see what he is doing. Not that you have a lot of your vision at this point.

“Every surface darling, every single surface until you tell me to stop”, he growls. His dark hair is hanging into his ruby eyes, giving him an aura of danger. You know him to be of no danger to you, finding the view nothing but arousing instead. You are scared though, not of him of course, but of the immense pleasure he makes you feel. No human should feel this good and yet you do. Truly, you are so scared, craving more until you can’t anymore.

“Tae please, Tae…”

He pulls his cock out and pumps it angrily. It is messed up in your blood, dripping translucent desperation. Taehyung uses the sinful concoction to pleasure himself while his crazed eyes flit to your pussy. 

“You’re gaping”, he assess and growls, “my pretty gaping slut. My cock ruined you and it’s not even my true size.”

He is using contractions. Taehyung rarely uses them. You have him ruined, you truly have. 

“Sir, I’m your cock slut”, you mewl, writhing desperately.

“Fuck, I want to break you.”

Thump.

He fell to his knees before you, connecting his mouth with your pussy instantly. Well fucked and creamed with his taste. Taehyung moans and slips his tongue as deep as possible. His taste of possession mixes with your blood. He growls, fucking his own cock sore from how angrily he jerks himself. He feels like an animal right now. His vampiric nature has a hold of him, there is not an ounce of sanity left in him. The only thing which keeps him grounded, is the punishing handjob he gives himself. The pain and roughness of it keeps him with you.

Taehyung isn’t the only one who experiences pain right now. You are so sensitive that his tongue feels like torture on your pussy. A torture you chase with weak squirms of your hips.

“Slow please”, you beg without meaning it, gripping the edge of the dresser, “please, ah! Please!” 

Taehyung lifts his lips for your sake. He puts your feet on his shoulders, looking up at you even if you have your head rolled to the side weakly. 

“Keep breathing for me”, he orders you and dives back down. 

“How should I- ah!” you arch your back, digging your feet into his shoulders as you try to squirm. He is dragging his tongue through your folds quickly, taking advantage of the position to really taste every inch of you. You squirm, “please slow, please.”

“Breathe darling, breathe”, he murmurs against your pussy and concentrates his licks on your clit. 

“Oh god, Tae”, you wail, dropping into the hard dresser in defeat. You have to take what he gives you. You signed up for this and now you are paying the sweetest consequences. 

The last few orgasms sat deep and didn’t originate from your clit. No, Taehyung dragged them out of you from the deepest parts of your cunt. He doesn’t need the most obvious spot to make you shake and because he doesn’t, the stimulation he gives you right now feels especially good. Your clit was so left out, so neglected it felt as if he was edging it. And now you have his burning, slickened-up tongue frenching it aggressively. 

“Slow please”, you beg, trying to breathe. 

The only reason why you beg for him to slow down is because it is so goddamn embarrassing how fast you orgasm with him. You managed to take in one song coming from his atelier’s record player and then you are already fighting for your right to sanity. Please, just once you want to have to fight for your orgasm. Just once, you want to feel as if it will never come. 

“Sir. Tae Sir. Please.”

But of course Taehyung doesn’t listen. Because Taehyung isn’t human right now and you are his feast. Taehyung hates being interrupted when he feeds. And so you are destined to find your downfall at the tip of his dripping tongue while the very fibres of this building learn the sound of your moans. And so you scream and wail and beg him for mercy. And Taehyung doesn’t listen until he has you filling his throat with your squirt. It mixes with your blood and forces Taehyung to climax all over his hand.

He growls into your pussy, scrunching his face because the orgasm feels like torture. He purposefully doesn’t allow it to feel good. He crushes his own balls and slaps his own cockhead because this is what keeps him human. He can’t allow himself to enjoy his heaven when this could mean your downfall.

“Sir! Please! It hurts! Ah please!”

You wonder if people outside can hear you. You are so close to his exit after all. 

Taehyung doesn’t give you time to think of this possibility as he keeps you with him the second your endless orgasms stopped. He picks you up from the dresser and the next time you find yourself feeling at least a little sane, you are in his atelier, sitting on his lap as he occupies his couch. He uses said couch to pose you or Jungkook in the most beautiful position. Most of the time, they are very sensual poses however if you are allowed to be blunt for a second. 

You drop into him, trembling atop his lap. His body is wet. Sweat, blood, squirt and his own cum. The sensations overwhelm you, forcing you to sob and tremble. Taehyung soothes it by running his hands up and down your back.

“Are you still enjoying this, darling? You are shaking so much”, he is checking up on you again. He treats you so fucking good.

You nod your head, twisting his hair weakly.

“Please more, please”, you beg him, drooling all over his shoulder because you can’t swallow anymore. Not when he has broken you so, so good.

“Such a greedy slut”, he says and picks you up to sit you down on his cock. He has grown into his vampiric size by now, resulting in him having to carry you as he moves you up and down on his length. You couldn’t possibly take him all. Not when you are already so entirely destroyed from everything he did to you. He doesn’t mind that he has to carry you. On the contrary, it is so utterly arousing to him to use you as his personal little fleshlight. Well-fucked, gaping and dripping sweet blood. There is no toy more perfect than you. 

“Oh god”, you get out, pressing yourself closer to him. You can feel the remnants of his orgasm smearing all over your walls. It sounds so wet. You are so tight and swollen that it makes the nastiest sucking sounds each time he moves you up. 

This wasn’t a good idea. You thought that you still had an orgasm in you, but you were wrong. The thought exhausts you. You can’t give him any more. You are used up. Utterly and truly used up.

“I can’t cum anymore”, you get out, crying tears, “please don’t make me cum again, oh god.”

“Keep being good for me. I promise, it’s not long anymore”, he encourages you, meeting his movements in the middle by rolling his hips up. 

“Tae”, you whimper, soiling his skin with your tears, “sensitive. I can’t cum anymore.”

“I know darling, I know. You’re so good, such a good girl. I have to climax again. I’m almost there, keep being good for me.”

“Oh god”, you croak and hug him desperately, “Tae…”

“Almost there, darling”, he breathes and squeezes your buttocks, “help me, mhm? Do you want to help me reach it?”

“Yes, Sir. Please.”

“That’s my good toy”, he praises and kisses your cheek, “cover your fingers in your blood and feed it to me.”

You follow his orders happily, reaching behind yourself to drag your fingers through the mess your bodies make between your legs. More. You bury two of your fingers in your pussy even if his cock is already taking so much of you. 

“Yes”, he growls, throbbing deep inside, “oh, so tight”, he sighs under his breath, tilting his head back as a guttural moan leaves him. 

You slip your fingers out, staring at them with teary eyes. They are so messy, covered in thick blood. Taehyung stares at them as well, tightening his grip on your body as his hips chases your heat. 

Your eyes meet. 

He sticks his tongue out. Fangs appeared on his lower teeth as well, glistening in the lights. 

“Tae”, you whimper and press your fingers down on his tongue. 

He growls and closes his mouth around them, rolling his eyes back in bliss. He doesn’t bother closing his lids, keeping them open halfway to give view of his ruined state. He growls and moans, growls and moans, sucks, thrusts his hips and whimpers. His once deep, demonic voice switches into the highest, most desperate squeak and seconds later you feel him filling you with his hot cum. 

You are so sensitive that even his cum painting your walls feels like too much. You drop your head on his shoulder, losing your every strength as Taehyung pumps you full of his orgasm. 

Your fingers slip out of his mouth once he has to gasp for air.  

“Oh heavens”, he lets out, lifting you off his cock just to drop you atop his lap. His cun squirts everywhere instantly. 

He wraps his arms around you tightly, shuddering in his intense afterglow, “oh my darling”, he breathes, burying his face deep in the crook of your shoulder, “how are you doing?”

“I don’t know”, you whimper, “Sir, please don’t let go.”

Taehyung hugs you tighter, soothing your trembles with tender hands running over your body. 

“I am right here, my darling. Oh, how well you did. How proud I am of you”, he speaks sweetly, washing away the aches from your heart.

Sex like tonight often times leaves you feeling embarrassed and disgusted at yourself. You can’t explain it and it isn’t your lovers’ fault. It is just hard to accept that you let yourself go in such ways once the ecstatic pleasure clears from your mind. If Taehyung would let go of you right now, you would have an actual mental breakdown. You need his comfort like you need air. 

And Taehyung knows that you need it. He is shaken himself, feeling ruined from the sex and dizzy from the blood high. He needs to hold and be held just as much as you do, but he is also aware that you need so much more comfort than he does. 

“You did so well”, and so he praises you, kisses your shoulder and sways you gently, “you are so precious and worthy of so much love. Oh darling, how much I love you.”

You release a trembling breath and with it so much pressure on your heart. Taehyung soothes the aches in your neck with a gentle hand, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as his whispers continue. 

“I am so blessed, my sweetest darling. Thank you so much for giving me a right to your beautiful body. Oh, how I want to spend every remaining second of this day worshipping it.”

You giggle. Warmth fills Taehyung’s heart. He helped you through the hardest part of coming back. He chuckles with you, turning your head gently to press a kiss to your cheek and next your closed eyelid. You scrunch your face, chasing him with a happy giggle shaking your shoulders.

He giggles as well, smiling against your skin. 

“My good girl”, he whispers, pecking your cheek, “my sweetest darling. Mhm, my sweet ___.”

“Tae”, you sigh, nudging his cheek with your nose before lifting your head to meet his eyes. You are basically glowing in happiness, “Tae…”

“Yes, my darling?”

“Thank you”, you say and scrunch your nose, “I feel so good.”

“Yes?” he smiles, cupping your cheek, “I feel good as well, my darling. You make me so proud.”

You giggle, leaning into his palm. You close your eyes and sigh, letting your shoulders fall in relaxation.

“Should we take a shower, my darling?” he offers. 

“Yeah”, you nod your head, peeling your eyes open. You snicker, cupping his cheeks, “you’re so dirty. Oh god, Tae there’s blood everywhere.”

“I know, it’s wonderful”, he says and smiles playfully, “I hope that is just your period. I made sure to be careful, but you were so tender today.”

“You were perfect. It didn’t hurt at all”, you assure him and wiggle your shoulders, “I’m so happy. I really like it when you are rough with me and this was perfect.”

“Yes, yes it was perfect for me as well”, Taehyung says and hugs you close. He stands up with you in his arms, “I shall take care of you and then we shall find sleep in the library.”

“Yes, wow”, you gasp, “can you read me a story then?”

“I will read you not one, but two stories my darling”, he says, making you giggle and snuggle closer. 

“Maybe three?”

“Of course, oh what a question. I will read you even four stories.”

“Wow”, you snicker and squeeze him gently, “I’m happy.”

Taehyung smiles, bouncing you in his arms gently to tighten his grip.

“I’m happy as well, darling”, he tells you, making a promise to himself to dedicate tonight solely to your happiness.

He will do an amazing job. He is your perfect darling after all.

[50cal-fullauto-astarion]

to leave the blood stay in the veins

monster!könig x f!rcursed!reader (no use of 'y/n') 6.6k words NSFW!

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT‼️CW: extremely NSFW, descriptions of gore, implied consumption of human flesh by a non-human monster, mention of necrotic curse, monsterfucking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, knotting (no omegaverse), outdoor sex, ambiguous ending, pre-established relationship, 0% proofread, könig and reader are both fucking unhinged.

Day 01 of the Haunted Hoedown Challenge by @/inklore

taboo au (monsterfucking) + "i'll be your dirty little secret, if that's what you're into." + oh no i'm dating the town serial killer

There is a beast in the woods, and it leaves so little meat on the bone that not even carrion birds find value in the corpses it leaves behind.

It’s a strange town in the foothills of the Austrian Alps, full of little sicknesses hiding in the corners, and you learned them well when you moved here. No one goes past the treeline at night. Hardly anyone is outside of home if they can help it. Tourists are the beast’s fodder.

Your boyfriend thinks it’s funny. 

König, under his ever-present hood–a not altogether uncommon sight in your town, people come here when they have something to hide, something they are uncomfortable with or find hideous in themselves, and he has given an unimaginable amount for you out of love–laughs, sharp in the tooth.

“Anyone dumb enough to head into the trees is dumb enough to die,” he teases, but there is an arrogance and a contempt swimming deep in his bloodshot blue eyes. 

“That’s coldblooded, but not wrong,” you tell him, from behind your own mask. Plain thing, blank in expression, modeled from the one from Eyes Without A Face. It covers the ravages of a curse, numb necrosis slowly spreading up your face through the years. “I still want you to get me a gun.”

“What’s a gun going to do against a thing like that?” he asks, tilting his head, the hood bagging off the curled horns that start at his temples and sweep back over his ears. “Something like that, you need silver. I’ll get you a knife. Big one. Nice and fucking sharp, Schatzi.”

The knife isn’t a comfort when the beast begins to hunt in town. It stalks from house to house, preying on people in their beds, their living rooms, their bathtubs–there is no rhyme or reason, not a whit of discernable pattern. 

Only teeth-gouged bones and viscera ground into wall, tile, and carpet alike. Your neighbor falls victim, and you watch the police from your window, flinching when a veteran officer stumbles out into the fall-frosted grass to vomit, sobbing and pulling his hair.

“It got Emil,” you say, still watching through your sheer curtains. 

König nearly cackles from your bed, lounging as he visits. “Good. Emil was a piece of shit. Depperte Fut.”

You glance at him from the corner of your eye, over your shoulder, before returning back to the circus in the yard next door. “‘Stupid cunt’ is a pretty strong insult. He was an asshole, but I don’t think he deserved to die like that,” you mumble.

“You don’t know all that much about your neighbors, Schatzi.”

You begin to rock side-to-side on your hips, the enormous silver blade König gifted you turning over and over in your hands, the point digging lightly into your palm. 

It’s insane, the way you begin to tell yourself that you’ve seen König’s face nearly everyday for the last two years—you can see it right now. He lies on your bed, pointed teeth gleaming under his split philtrum in the soft yellow light of the bedside lamp and the red-blue flash of the cruisers. You know there is a man under the hood, however odd and satyr-seeming.

And yet. And yet.

The blade digs a little too deep, drawing a curse-blackened bead of blood. König’s eyes burn into the back of your neck, and you can only guess his horizontal pupils dilate into black holes. 

Just quit your job. I’ll take care of you.

It’s a simple enough promise, and one you know König will keep, but not one you’re willing to make. You have few shreds of independence, hard-bought through years of fighting back against misfortunes and setbacks, and, no matter the depths with which you love him, you’re not willing to trade your shit wage on faith for love of a man. It doesn’t matter how helplessly besotted he is. 

It’s this molar-cracking grit that delivers you right to the beast. Because you were forced to pick up an extra half shift at the hotel to fold towels behind the front desk, because you needed the money, because you wanted to pay back your beautiful, bloodthirsty boyfriend for the ridiculous blade he begat you. 

The god forsaken thing lumbers down a deserted street, blocks from your little rental, and something fucking horrendous seizes you. It’s enormous, walking on cloven hooves and back-bent legs. Its arms are too fucking long, clawed, jagged. And worst is the skull, bleached white and glowing like a beacon in the dark, an enormous rack of brutally sharp horns dripping trinkets of bone and gold that glints in the street lamp it approaches. 

A horrible fact hits you. It’s not lumbering, it’s wandering. Putting a massive, craggy hand on fences and peering into houses, taking its time, evaluating. You swear you can almost hear it humming. 

You don’t know when your hand found the handle of the silver blade strapped to your belt under your coat, but the leather on the grip bites your palm with the force of your grip, a nauseous, cold sweat terror tearing apart your ability to think. 

It’s a primal fear, one that makes you want to protect your soft, vulnerable neck, even if the blood that warms it runs venomous. 

It’s a bad choice, but there are no good ones. When the beast lifts its head and scents the air, skull snapping your direction and shaking its grisly trophies, you run. You snap the huge blade off your hip and drop into a dead sprint, cutting between yards, trying to escape the horrendous bellow that reverberates through the bony chambers of the monster’s skull.

Choosing to run instead of freezing maybe bought you a few extra minutes before death decided it was time to seize your pulse in reclamation, and it hurts. The physical exertion it takes to bomb through the last stretches of suburbia before the forest closes in feels like you are breaking every bit of your body by forced choice, listening to that awful fucking thing chase after you. 

Your blade makes a slicing sound cutting through the air at your side, the monster’s hooves pound the dirt as it digs in and chases after you, but, good god, it doesn’t sound like it’s even trying.

You don’t dare look back, pushing your body past agony, your lungs shredding in your chest. You’ve never moved this fast, you’ve never run this hard for this long. Your body is TV static—hissing, popping, distant—and, insanely, the urge to cry drills into your eye sockets.

You’re going to die. You’re going to die. You’re going to fucking die, stupidly and dumbly and pointlessly, because you wanted to pay your boyfriend a stupid sum of fucking money, for a stupid fucking knife that he bought you on a stupid fucking joke. 

Two meters from the second worst decision of your life, the monster snaps out, rough hand between your shoulder blades, crashing you into the goddamned dirt. Your eyebrow splits on a tree root, your eyes roll in the back of your head, your hand stays manically tight on the blade, slicing your other arm. 

“Schaaaatzi,” the miserable fucking thing hisses, pressing that same hand between your shoulder blades, pinning you into the freezing dirt. 

Oh, god, no, it has König’s voice. It’s—it’s not him, but it has his voice, thin and washed out as low-hung fog, but you would know that voice. In hell, in high water, in the dirt with a massive, bark-rough hand grinding your skin raw through your coat—you - know - his - voice. 

Furiously, you slash the blade over your head, behind your back, screaming and digging your feet in the dirt. For a brief second, as you hack at the wood of the monster’s hand and wrist, you’re even able to push yourself off the ground by mere inches. The beast growls and shoves you back down twice as hard, knocking the wind out of you, spasming your hand open. The knife drops, and you begin to blindly try digging and dragging yourself away. 

“Stop…hurting…me,” the beast lows, still in your boyfriend’s voice, and you imagine a bathtub full of gnawed bones, a living room with scattered body parts, your kitchen smeared with blood like cave wall art, and you start to scream as loud as your lungs will allow, your mask filling with dirt in your horrendous and futile bid to escape. Bloody murder bellows, filled with rage, wanting to kill and consume and conflagrate.

If König is dead, you will take your pound of flesh. You will either die fighting, or win, and you will hack apart this freak-fuck’s corpse to burn in your woodstove to warm your home. You’ll mount its fucking skull on your front door, so anything else in these woods will know you won’t hesitate to make trophies of them either. 

Bone, warm to the touch, presses against the back of your head. When it breathes, the air is as hot as exhaust, almost scalding your back. “Schatzi,” it bids you slowly once again.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” it rips your throat raw to shriek it, reaching back and almost dislocating your arms to rip at anything you can. Your hands fall on the dressings attached to its horns, you tear off a vertebra, and a gold wedding band, and a bracelet of rave kandi in plastic beads. “IF YOU HURT HIM, I’LL YOU FUCKING KILL YOU!”

The head presses harder, driving your face into the dirt. There is something desperate in the pressure. It spits all at once, grating and wide in a voice you know better than your own, “You pissed off a fucking witch, because you ran out of riddles to tell her, when she was ransoming you to your arshloch grandmother. She never paid. That’s why you were cursed—no one gave a fuck. But I gave her my face for you, to stop it halfway, better than fucking nothing.”

Your rage freezes immediately, your chest heaving under the weight it presses down on you. 

No one knows that. Only König. He’s the only person who would know about his lonely and quiet climb up to the Scottish highlands. Besides you, and the witch, König is the only one who would know why his human face was distorted, malformed, made animalistic. 

“Lee?” you pant, unleashing part of his first name, the only one he ever tolerates. And, fuck, instantly the pressure pulls away, the skull rubbing against your back to soothe it.

“It’s me, Schatzi,” the slow voice promises, nuzzling you. There’s rustling above you that you don’t dare turn to see. “I’m not going to hurt you.” 

A tinkling piece of jewelry lowers in front of your eyes, and you can see that it dangles from an enormous, ligneous finger. You’re being shown a sterling silver charm bracelet. You’re being shown your bracelet, the one you thought you had lost months ago. 

Your hand shoots out, wrapping around the finger, the peeling bark shearing off under your grip. You find instantly that you can pull yourself up on your hip, sitting, caged and protected under the beast’s massive body—under König’s massive body. 

He shifts back onto his digitagrade haunches, holding himself over you, still offering your bracelet. He shudders at your touch on his hand, and you imagine that he may’ve never been handled with kindness in this shape. Which makes a certain amount of sense. Because he fucking kills and eats people.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you snap, staring dead into the hollow sockets of his eyes. He shifts uncomfortably, turning his head. “Why—you have me so fucked up—what have you been thinking—?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, do you have to—”

“Yes, I have to, fucker.” It’s impossible to wrap your head around the magnitude of what a simple secret and a silver bracelet has done to your understanding of the world. A complete unraveling—upheaval, utterly. 

You take the bracelet from his finger, on which it fits like a ring, and push it into your wrist, sitting up on your knees and grabbing him by the underside of his jaw. Though it puts you in his blind spot, staring dead center at the sinus dimples between his eyes, it feels like you have a mote of power over him. 

(If he were asked, he would say the power you hold over him could corrupt, absolutely. He would badly like you to ask someday.)

“Why are you—what are you? Have you always been like this? Or was this new, with the fucking witch? Are—Jesus Christ—why are—the monster isn’t supposed to come into town, why are you in TOWN?” you run off at the mouth, words stalling and crashing and fusing together as your thoughts overwhelm just how quickly you can speak. 

And up from that impossibly deep throat–simultaneously from the center of your brain, and from all around you all at once–crawls König’s pitchy hyena-laugh, edged, always, with cruelty. He butts the jagged end of his nasal cavities into your stomach, catching on the threads of your sweater. 

“Leshy, Schatzi, say it for me.”

Your hands pull his jaw closer, digging the bone into your stomach, wondering if he can feel the pressure of your deep breathing. Oh, fuck, you could crack. This is your König. You start to wonder how many of his perverse buttons you can hit, the part of you that felt shame for your attraction to what the world discarded as ‘ugly’ long ago removed from your emotional bank.

“Leshy,” you say, really leaning into the word, saying it deep in your chest. One of your hands travels the long length to the hinge of his jaw, gripping tight, directing his head to turn so you can meet one of his empty eyes. “Answer my fucking questions.”

The laugh doesn’t come this time. In its place is a near-violent whole-body shudder that wracks through you. 

“Old! Alwaaays been this way,” and even in the strange disconnect of his voice from his physical form, you can tell his arousal is eating away at him in big bites–clipping his speech, broiling his brain with body heat, “can’t remember ever being young, haa-haa. And why do you think I’m hunting in town?”

Another trap, a stupid pop quiz, wanting to test your knowledge of him, or a gotcha! to check your observations and what you had missed.

Your hands get tighter, and you pull his jaw open, marveling at the sharp grooves ground into his teeth, like nightmarish, ivory rook pieces, tall and straight in the dry sockets. His chest begins to heave, his breath fogging into steaming clouds over your hands, and, remarkably, it smells like nothing at all apart from pin needles and snow.

You’d thought you’d smell decaying flesh or rotten blood. The only blood you can smell comes from your own busted brow and sliced arm, crusting black on your skin and in the fabric of your sweater as it coagulates.

“If I was working on a hunter’s instincts, I would say that Schladming has become too good at keeping people out of the forests. Even during daylight hours. It cuts down on prey,” you say, ice cold and clean as a slit throat. Your eyes flick back up to the socket, surrounded by the feeling that those glass-blue eyes of his humanoid form are drilling into you. He’s waiting for you to hit the hook. “But I’m working on your logic.”

“Oh, yeeaah,” he drawls, his hips shifting, and you feel as if he would bite his lips in anticipation now, if he could. 

“Oh, yeeaah,” you echo him, “the logic of a fucking crazy asshole.” He feels like a huge grin, hands on his muscular, bunched, and flexing thighs. That detail is not lost on you. “You’re hunting in town because you’re pissed off. You reached a limit, and you got tired of sitting on your fucking reaction.”

You swear to god he moans a little. Just softly. It could be a breath, but you know him too well to dismiss it out of hand. 

“That’s good, Schatzi. I like that. I like that you figured that out,” he says, definitely panting in rhythm now, his fogging breath giving away the rhythm secondary. “People are looking at you too much. I don’t fucking like it when they look at you too much.”

That’s a sudden thought that had not occurred to you, and you lash yourself silently because it hadn’t. König has always been possessive of you. Jealous. Protective. And he held grudges in ways that could spark blood feuds and successive generations of death.

Like a curse.

It’s a testament to how fucking cracked and perfectly matched the two of you are that you start laughing, stroking his orbital bones in big, pleased pats, kissing the bridge of his nose. 

“Schatzi, please,” he groans, pressing into you insistently. “Promise you won’t tell. Promise me.”

“Why the fuck would I tell?” you laugh, losing track of your faculties, your very sense. What does it matter? What does it all even mean? You’ve found a man that loves you so deeply and truly and twistedly that he slaughters those who desire or deign you. You’ve found, and fallen in love with a man that would sell his face to save as much of yours as he could. “Who the fuck would I tell?”

The slope of his shoulders relaxes, and he moves closer to you, once again shielding you with the massive bulk of his body, warming you in the cold air. Tucked under his chin, you can study the soft suede-like material of his body, how the bark covering his arms gives way to a ruff of dense, double-layered fur around his shoulders and his long, muscular neck. 

The rest of the muscle on him is horrendously hard, flexed like steel cabling under a layer of fat. There is something about this body that reminds you of the shape of the human one so well–long legs, a nipped waist, and flat hips built to strut and rock, all of it buttressing a broad set of shoulders.

You press your face into the ruff, pushing your fingers into it. Dear god, your hand goes deeper and deeper, and it just never seems to stop. His scent is–it’s almost familiar. He’s in there, somewhere–his musk, the metallic tang of blood seemingly sunken into his skin–but there’s so much more to it. Green, and earthy, almost like soil and moss. 

A sound comes from his body, like a house settling. A deep, broad creak. The trophies on his horns rattle together, clinking like dull wind chimes. “More,” he says simply, leaving you to figure it out. Simple enough.

Your hand drops from the ruff, tracing over his convex chest, down to his stomach. Another shudder, and he pulls those big arms around your entire body, a fuller, more protective hug than you’ve ever felt. 

“Schatzi–would you let me…” he breathes, a heaving sigh. 

Another laugh cracks out of you, hysterical, constricted by your mask. Why not? Why shouldn’t you? You’ve always been a woman that loves monsters. You, yourself, are one. You can’t find a reason to halt your hands, nor your body, nor his desire.

In an odd show of tip-to-tail, you push the mask off your face, and kick off your boots, going for your zipper. “Yeah. Yeah, honey, come on. Show me,” you urge him, pawing at his massive waist as you struggle out of your jeans. 

He groans and this obscene trill escapes his body–a low, rattling moan that travels miles through every cell of your body, his legs spreading wider. You laugh in delight and mania, watching rapt as his cock slides out of a sheath you hadn’t even caught sight of, his monstrous body a foreign land you hadn’t traveled yet, but, fuck, do you want to learn the lands well enough to call them home. 

It’s heavy in your hands, a little slick, and, childishly, you almost giggle (holy shit, that is a sound that has never left your mouth in your living memory, and yet, here you are). It’s hot, hotter than you expected, and a vulnerable shade of pale, like a plant slip. Oh, and it’s elegant, almost spiraling. He huffs as you stroke the length of it, pushing your fingertips into his sheath at the base. 

“I don’t think this is gonna fit,” you warn him, and it somehow feels as if you’re challenging yourself with the statement.

He takes it as a challenge for himself, though, and an aspiration to hold for you, “You are going to take all of it. I’m going to make sure.”

His massive hand comes to the back of your waist, finding your fulcrum without needing to search, pulling you off your knees to hold to beneath him. “You naked yet, or still fucking around?” he asks, breathing heavily, and you shove your jeans off the rest of the way. 

“You’re being a little bitch,” you snipe, a dumb swipe at reclaiming dignity after you realize you’re so wet that it slicks your thighs, having darkened the crotch of your freshly abandoned jeans pathetically. 

He throws another coarse laugh, haa-haa, shifting his massive body long, pulling you into place. 

It’s on you, then, to figure out the logistics. Somehow, it just works, even through layers of physical translation. Under your hands, he reads König, loud and clear. 

There’s a brief, flighty moment of terror as you rub the head of his cock between the lips of your cunt, rolling your hips to stimulate your clit against it. It is just fucking enormous, almost half again the size of his human cock. But then you grit your teeth, tipping your weight back so your shoulders rest against the dirt, bleak and unyielding ruthlessness seizing your mind.

You do not back down, you have never done it once in your life, and tonight is no different. 

His head lifts, bottom jaw dropping, and he bays as you push yourself down on his length. The sound crashes into you, rocking your entire body, and the stretch burns, but you buckle down. What are the people in the houses just at the edge of suburbia thinking? Has the fucking abberation that has been slowly killing its way through their number taken to a different form of punishment? Has someone unlucky fallen to its new tastes?

It cuts your mouth into a horrid grin. If they only knew that you were no victim at all, if only they had an inkling of the fact that you are a victor. That you are the hand holding this nightmare’s collar, and he attacks for the sake of you.

Inch by inch, a slow journey, he fills you, pressing completely against your walls, body shaking with the effort it takes not to thrust fully into you. Oh, what destruction that would result in, what a wreckage that would make of your body, what lengths he would go to not ruin you in such a fashion.

“Fuck–fuck–Liebes,” he mutters, just for you, the moment he is as deep in you as he can go, most of his length still outside of what your body can handle, pleading, “I can’t–I. I have to move. Please, meine Liebes.”

“Go. Go-go-go,” you answer back, almost frantic, too full and occupied, needing motion or you might split apart into atoms. The way he answers is instant, undeniable, desperate, rocking into you as if testing waters, going faster as if he finds them warm and welcoming. 

You lose yourselves to it, and your eyes threaten to roll back into your head, gripping onto the elbow of the arm suspending you, blood rushing to your head in an ache from the way you hang off him, forcing you lightheaded. Sap-like blood from where you’d hacked at him in rage drips down your arm, your waist, clinging to your skin in a way that feels permanent. 

He tenses all around you, panting, clouds of steam fogging the air over your head from his pants. Words escape him, leaving nothing but animalistic grunts, the grinding of his dry, exposed teeth as your desperate pussy sucks him deeper and tighter.

You’d taught him as a human to find your g-spot, to destroy your brain with a steady climb, and he doesn’t even need to search now, every movement pressing every inch of his cock into it, and unrelenting onslaught that makes you shake and nearly drool, being fucked like a sacrifice. 

König raps his other fist above your head and pulls out without warning, shaking his head and breathing roughly. 

You imagine brutally grabbing him by the scruff and biting his ear–what kind of punishment would that even be, no worse than a bug bite to him, more likely than anything else–for the loss of his cock. Mostly just an impulsive fantasy, too barbaric and stupid to actually act upon, but you were thoroughly enjoying yourself, and it feels like hell to be split open against him with nothing inside you.

Breathless–and naked, sweating, and trembling in the woods–you start to sit up on your elbows, cunt throbbing. "What is it? Are you okay?" you ask, your love for him–your fear for him–overwhelming even your damnation-worthy starvation. 

König, massive and so dark he's almost indistinguishable from the night apart from his skull, shakes his head again and puts up a clawed hand. Fine, the gesture says, and you’re realizing he’s beyond words now, but trying his best to communicate. Then he curls it into a loose fist and pantomimes masturbating and finishing.

"Christ!" But you’re laughing, tugging at a tuft of fur on his chest, spun out in your giddiness. It’s still him, you’ve already known, but to see it. To find him through this–this utterly new reality. "They teach you that signal in the forces?"

In his hollow sockets, twisting his body to watch you closely, he looks pleased with himself, ducking forward, bracing on his free hand to one side of your head as he nuzzles into your neck and breathes deeply.

He huffs, rough fingers running over your back, claws trailing the parts of your spine he can reach as he holds you, before he taps the side of your thigh with his other hand. At your eye level, he turns his finger in a slow loop. Roll over, maybe? It's worth a shot.

"Okay. Alright," you sigh, relieved. When you try to roll in his palm, he shakes his head and sets you down, pressing down against your body, pushing his arm under your ribs. With his other hand, he gestures a flat line on the ground. You ask, "On my stomach?"

Two knocks against the ground next to your head. Yes.

You stretch out flat over the frost-crisp grass, too hot to even register the chill against your bare skin, and König lowers with you, sliding the arm under you down to your diaphragm. With his knuckles, he taps your outer-thighs until they're drawn back together, and your breathing hitches when you understand what he intends.

With his legs on the outside of yours, he uses his free hand to run his cock up the length of your seam to tease your pussy, but he takes his sweet time with it. Impatient, you slide onto your knees with near-perfect timing, driving your entrance against his head, snarling with indignation when he bows away. "Fucker!"

He rumbles something almost humanoid, between a laugh and a gruff, trilling ‘rrrr’ you recognize as cousin to a sharp, challenging hum he makes when faced with an idiot comment in his human shape.

"Stop teasing me. I can't stand it," you try instead, turning to give him big eyes over your shoulder because you know that it works well on him.

He bends down and barely-barely nips the top of your ear, a startling move that leaves you perfectly inflamed all over again again. Greedy brat, it says to you, so pleased in the fact he is so desperately wanted. 

The feeling of him inside you is extraordinary. He lubricates in this state, but you hardly need it with the nearly absurd way you’re wet, slick down your thighs. You wonder if your cunt is glimmering under the dim moon and streetlamps, because he'd said that to you once. Heilige sheiße, you have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever fucking seen, could just stare at how wet you get for me forever, he'd laughed during one delirious, marathon session of staying sunken between your legs.

He begins to rock his hips, growling quietly and pleased at the wet sounds of your of cunt squelching around him–another sound he enjoys, a marker of pride, how wet can I make my girl get–settling onto his forearm and pressing a little weight against your back. 

He rests his head across your shoulders, burying his snout in your hair, breathing in hard-bought bursts of restraint.

"Yes, honey," you almost seethe, loosening your body, giving up a little of your own iron will to become just a little lost in the feeling of him. You relax your walls in a bid to take more of him, breathing tight, voice pitching up into a plea, "Yes, baby, that's perfect. That's so perfect, keep going. Just like that."

He rocks a little faster, thrusts a little deeper, breathes a little harder. The hand around your waist shifts up to your breast, but isn't dexterous enough to do more than give it an encompassing squeeze. 

With your thighs pressed together, you feel as if your body can't stretch properly to take as much of him as you want (and you want all of him, every burning hot inch, fucking him so well that he cannot disappear into one of his miseries where he will not let you follow, because they all live in his head). 

He ratchets back his speed, tries a new motion with his hips. He rolls instead of thrusting, a more fluid movement, brushing your insides in new ways that leave your swollen clit screaming for attention and your eyes watering. You breathe in ragged pants, fingers digging into the turf over your head, trying not to rip it with the force of your grip by the fistful.

You might cum. You might cum. You want to cum, and you might, and he's so much deeper now, panting hot as fire against your shoulders. You can feel the muscles in his abdomen clench and dance, his horns cutting the air in swipes of agitation above you, and he is so much this way. König: bigger, sometimes bloodier, but always so, so amplified.

"Honey, honey, honey," you whine in a chant under your breath, trying to ground yourself, trying to encourage him. You squeeze your thighs together for the extra stimulation, but you know you’re going to orgasm from him alone, no extra assistance needed. You’re just greedy, you just want it all, but you want him the worst.

When he pulls out this time, you snarl loud and gnash your teeth, digging your dirt-packed nails into his unyielding skin. You were full to the brim and on the wire-edge of climax, and he is so suddenly fucking gone it's almost as abrupt as violence. 

"KÖNIG!" you shout, his callsign cutting from between your teeth like the desire to slit a throat, shattering the quiet around you both, reeling to find him with your burning eyes. 

He collapses onto his side, cock jumping and leaking, and he whines deep in his throat, pulling at you with the flat of his hand. Your thigh, then his hip, your chest, then his–more hand signals, a story-told like a man with a sucking chest wound needing saving. He snakes his arm under you again, whining growing deeper, and you understand.

You roll, throwing your thigh over his hip, tucking tight against his chest. You give yourself one second of feeling cool air against your overheated pussy before you take him in hand and direct him home, and his deep, slick slide into you knocks the air out of your lungs like a punch to the solar plexus. 

You’re only seconds away, and he can't be much farther, driving his head under yours to give you something to rest on that isn't the ground.

You don't utilize his offering, craning your neck as if you'll somehow get a glimpse of your connection from this angle–flat against him from belly to breast, resting your cheek and forehead against his heaving chest. His whine turns into a series of small, strangled howls and gasps as your voice crawls from whimpering to keening.

You’ve known you were going to cum, but you’re still somehow surprised with yourself at how quickly it's raced up, and how overwhelming it feels like it's going to be. You feel like you’re going insane.

His other arm wraps your ribs, too, squeezing you to him like you’re the only thing in the world worth keeping close, and damn him for it. You don't know why, but damn him.

"Cum, baby, cum," you instruct, gasping when you aren't clenching your teeth. You curl close to him, as close as your body will allow, spreading your legs as wide as you can. You drive back down into his thrusts, giving as much of yourself as you can, taking as much of him as you’re able. 

You want it all–everything–every little bit of blood and bone that's built him into a home he offers only to you. "Cum in me. I'm ready, I want you to cum," you demand, finding it truer than true, finding yourself right on the razor-edge.

The command is all it takes. Three hard thrusts, and he's buried in you to the base, punching the wind out of your lungs, and filling you to the point of what feels like impossibility with his spend. It forces you to finish as well, lighting you up like a lightning storm, swallowing him deeper as you cum and cum like you'll never be able to stop, soaking the both of you. 

You gasp a raw-throated howl, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, and you praise him as his cock kicks and kicks, emptying everything he's got to give into you.

A pressure builds inside you, beginning nearly unpleasant, until something just gives and his knot anchoring him to you feels right. 

It feels special and dazzlingly intimate, and you’re boggled, again, with the knowledge you’re the only person in the world that he's ever shown himself to this way. It’s just a thing you know in your marrow, an immutable truth, like the sun setting in the west, or the cruelty of witches without their wants.

You wind down, sweating and panting and filthy in each other's arms, and you rock against him,  holding him inside, clenching around him what little you can. You feel so wonderfully safe, so immaculately powerful, so stupidly, crazily, fantastically in love.

When your combined breathing evens, and the knot between you retreats, you groan when König shifts back into his human form, but only for the resituating you both have to endure. 

The body against yours is familiar again, and you’re dreadfully sleepy, though you want to clean yourself and eat. You crave something raw, something bloody. You hunger the way an animal hungers after a hard fuck. His spend drips out of you now that his cock's returned to normal, and it forms a trail of cooling wet down the crease where your thigh meets your ass.

You feel lovely.

König laughs, rough and spent, tucking hair out of your face and kissing your closed eyelids. "Holy fucking shit, Schatzi," he marvels, looking at you like you are the only god that has ever mattered. 

Your smile cuts sharp, and your fingers find his pulse point, tracing it thoughtfully. “You hungry? I bet you're fucking starved,” is all you say in return, eyes trailing the way his hand finds the charm bracelet newly returned to your wrist, touching it like a token.

It’s late and dark when you both manage to stumble your way back to your rental. He stays close, needy and soft, his hand on your hip, tugging you into his body when he can, careful of not knocking into the big, silver knife you’d placed back in the scabbard on your belt. 

The hood is back on his head, rolled up to his nose, and his split mouth kisses against your neck and behind your ear, his eyes closed like he endures a waking dream. You, in your own filthied mask again, allow it, craning your neck to give him more room, anchoring him with an arm around his waist in return.

It is late now, and the neighborhood is silent. Again, you wonder what the quiet lives inside must be thinking–whether they think the crimes have increased into a new field of brutality, if they are fearing and wondering what body parts they will find at the treeline come dawn. 

You know they will not leave the safety of their homes to investigate. They would be stupid to do something like that.

“That shower is going to feel so goddamned good,” you mutter, unlocking your door, and he nods against your skin.

“Oh, yeeaah,” he says, and the familiarity of the phrase makes you hum a laugh, shutting your eyes as you push through the threshold. "Get that blood off your skin before it stains. Your poor face, your poor arm. Poor Schatzi."

He splits off from you with a facsimile of a kiss–your masks pressing together at the mouth–and he pinches your ass before he takes off to the kitchen, his stomach growling, not even bothering to take off his boots.

You, however, kick off your shoes, and pull together clean clothes, heading toward the bathroom in the hall, the one with the big shower, in case he decides to join you.

Sleepy and content, you listen to his boots move heavily over the kitchen tile, the sound of the fridge door hissing snickt as he pulls it open, and shoves things around in his search for food. You nearly sway up to the closed door–why is it closed, you barely manage to wonder–your eyelids lead-weighted.

It takes only one thing to make them snap open wide, your back going ramrod straight. A dark smear, curling around the knob, around the edge of the door where it seams to the jamb.

Cold grips your lungs, sending your heart galloping painfully in the cage of your ribs, wondering if it really is copper you smell, or if it is a trick of your mind. The hall is too dark to tell if the swipe on the white door is red or black–if it is blood, if it is König’s or yours. 

There is a presence at your back, and enormous hands on the door on either side of your head, so fast you cannot tell if you were even able to blink before you saw his wide, scarred, and knuckle-broken limbs spreading wide across the wood.

Your hand finds the grip of the knife, looking at the brutal gouges you had hacked into his forearm earlier in the night, and you are thinking faster and harder than you ever have in your life, realizing in a terrible microsecond that you will have to make a decision–that you will have to choose what reality you are willing to live with, or that you are simply mistaken. 

Either way, you are moments from learning.

“Something wrong, Schatzi?” your boyfriend’s familiar voice asks, low and raspy, hot against the nape of your neck.

The laugh in his tone is cruel, and you can’t tell whether it belongs to König, or something pretending to be him.

tag-list: @alittleposhtoad @bitchoftoji @dotcie @kastlequill @miyabilicious @moths569 @parttimeprophet @pssytrux <3

[bemygunstomyroses]

The Lost Boys riding in your car with you would include: Part 2

Summery: This is just unhinged, again.

Warnings: GN reader! Swearing, implying smut, the boys being like animals, we know the drill!

Read part one first before you read this one so ya understand it better! Love ya! ❤️

Alright, we're back in the car. Everyone is seated in their assigned spots. David is in the front passenger seat, Marko is on the right in the back, with Paul in the middle and Dwayne on the left. Double-checked and confirmed, right? Okay!

You and your boys are on the road again but this time you guys are going through the city.

Buckle up if you aren’t already because these boys are fucking maniacs once again!

The lights of Santa Carla are bright and bold as you slowly get stuck in traffic trying to reach your destination. Don't think you'll get bored because you won't. You have four dingbats with you to keep you occupied!

Marko is displaying road rage even though he's not the one driving.

“Come on! Pick up your lazy ass! We have places to be you asshole!” Marko would yell out the window with his head out making you embarrassed and keeping your head down from the eyes looking around.

Paul would probably join in the trash talk as well. Most likely will flip em’ off.

Your the kind that would keep a little basket of snacks in the back of the car in case you get hungry while driving, of course the boys are going to go through your stash and eat most of the snacks.

“Can one of you pass me that chocolate bar in the snack basket?” You ask pudding your hand backwards to get your treat. Meanwhile the basket is in Paul’s and Marko’s lap, digging through every inch of the tub.

"Oops, sorry babe, but we're out of snacks. Marko must have eaten the last one," Paul lied through his teeth, throwing Marko under the bus.

“No I didn’t you asswipe!” Marko yells, his voice booming in the car. This ends up with the two wrestling in the back seat, while bumping into poor Dwayne who is already smashed into the side of the door.

"You're both going to make me lose my temper! If you don't behave, I'll be forced to turn this car around!" You warned the two of them, shooting them a stern look.

They both mumbled a quick "Sorry" and then dove right back into snacking as if nothing had happened.

David’s hand is of course on your thigh, drawing little shapes and squeezing your soft skin, traveling his hand slightly higher making you a blushing mess.

"David..." you whispered urgently, making sure no one else could hear.

David leaned in close, tilting his head and whispering in your ear, "We can always throw them out of the car. I know I can make you fog up the windows." His teasing tone conveyed a mischievous confidence, and you could feel the smirk on his face.

You lightly smack his chest but he suddenly takes your hand and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles with ease.

While you all are waiting for the never moving traffic to move (Which is doesn’t) the two blondes take this opportunity to hop out of the car and basically do stupid shit.

Running around the car. Hopping out in front of other cars, presumably giving everyone the bird, meanwhile, the people are honking their horns and getting agitated. (I wouldn’t blame them)

When everyone is back in the car, Paul takes this time to go through your CDs and cassettes and pick out the “good music” he said.

“Baby, you need more music taste! Remind me to take you to the store”.

Paul, I'm going to throw you out of this car!

If you get too tired of driving, David or Dwayne, you know good well Marko and Paul ain’t doing shit.

As David decided to drive, you might wonder who would be relegated to the passenger seat. In reality, no one; instead, they would accommodate you by making space in the back, provided the car is spacious enough. In some cases, if space is limited, you may find yourself seated on someone's lap. The concept of seatbelts becomes minor when you are in the company of vampires!

Dudes all probably gonna pop a boner

When you sit with all three of them they are smothering you in kisses, Paul tickles your sides making you squirm and laugh loudly and Marko pinching your sides.

Dwayne being a cuddle bug and pulling you into his chest. <3

David obviously can’t miss out so he’s reaching his hand back to touch you of course.

“Hey man! You’ve been touching them all night!” Paul whined and cooed at the leader.

“Fuck off, Paul.” David barks and refuses to stop holding your hand.

As the evening unfolded, you found myself resting my head on Dwayne’s lap, with your feet reaching out to Marko, and Paul providing support in the middle.

Dwayne playing with your hair with his slender fingers making you almost fall asleep. Paul playing with your fingers and Marko massaging your feet. It’s all very relaxing, that’s until David decides he’s getting bored and break checks the car and you all go flying forward-

“Whoops, break check”. Is all David would say with a grin on his face. You all don’t take it seriously and just laugh who the boys make sure you didn’t bang anything up.

After all, David navigates the car into an open field for you all to sit and enjoy looking at the beautiful stars. Dwayne Grabs a blanket from the trunk and places it on the soft grass. Paul puts on the radio some soft rock ballads and turns the volume up just enough to head the music.

You all cuddle up on the blanket and stargaze the night away, while all the boys are stealing passionate kisses on your lips.

“Hey, the shape of those stars are making kinda looks like a giant dick-“ Paul said out loud and for a moment everyone is silent, then you all erupt in laughter, Marko and Paul then tries to find more “stars” and pointing their fingers up at them.

“That one kind of looks like a heart”. You say and you point your finger. The boys share a smile on their faces. “You’re right”. David said and he kisses your cheek.

Paul began to say, "That one kinda looks like-" but was interrupted as Marko and Dwayne playfully tackled him, and they all ended up wrestling in the dewy grass.

[skibidilando]

A day at quadrant: LN4

Author note: I don’t even know how to post anything on this and never wrote a fic but I hope this is good but I think it’s pretty shit and I haven’t finished it yet and if any writers want to use this idea you can for sure just @ me please oh and if you have feedback please let me know thanks xx

Lando x quadrant fem reader

Blurb: reader is a member of quadrant, she games most of the time but also likes f1 along with her best friend Ria bish. She is friends with all members at quadrant and finds it a good laugh with all her mates, but maybe her view of someone in particular is more than a mate..

Warnings: sexualising, swearing, mention of a gun, leaked tape, sad distraught reader, friends to maybe lovers if I make it a series? Smut-ish? If I missed any let me know (I don’t know how to do warnings sorry x)

I woke up late again today. The mornings aren’t made for me. I just can’t do it. I love the feeling of sinking into my bed for 20 hours. But I can’t today, I have 4 people with cameras recording waiting for me to bloody get up and start filming a video for quadrant. But I’m not complaining because this is my job and something I like to do. I try to be in most videos and do my part, but it’s not like Lando gets that mad if I miss a few videos, but from my fucked sleep schedule, I don’t think he will like if I miss another one after I skipped the last 3.

I realise the time and see Lando, Ria, Ethan, and Max spamming my phone to get on. Fucking hell. I don’t even think to get changed, i just checked all my lash extensions were on, tied up my hair, and brushed my teeth. I probably look like shit but I did this to myself. “Better late than never I guess” max says rudely to take the piss out of me. Everyone knows my bad sleep schedule and how moody I am in the morning and after he’s done that, I’m not having it.

“Sorry guys my alarm didn’t go off but I’m here now ahaha” you say trying not to make an unhinged comment to clap back at max. “Y/n girl I missed you where have u fucking been!” Ria says. Ria is my bitch, we ride together, we die together, Ria is my best friend. “Me too Ria!” I say back politely.

“Alright enough mucking about we have to record this video mate” Ethan jokingly says and makes Ria and I laugh. “What r we even playing again” i question. “we are playing gartic phone you muppet” Lando tries to say but starts laughing at Y/n. “Why r u laughing mate” I say confused then realise wtf I’m doing. I’m wearing my pajamas, not my normal pajamas my fucking tiny, tight lace top that could pass for a bra if you squint your eyes. It hits me and I shit myself realising I have a camera filming me and recording everything.

“Omg I’m so sorry fuck I forgot let me change” I panicked in saying quickly. “Who said to change” Lando bluntly says. I was stopped in your tracks. Excuse me? Lando? As if he just said that. “Um my tits are almost exposed on camera and i look like a hoe” I say. My manager is definitely gonna get me in trouble for that. “Woah y/n you fucking hottie” Ria says when she looks at me from my camera. I get nervous in my stomach and naturally run to go grab a hoodie, luckily i live in a small apartment so it didn’t take me long. “Um sorry guys sorry let’s just move on I forgot sorry sorry” i say nervously.

“Yeah alright let’s go I’ll send you the link Y/n” Ethan kindly says which is unlike him being a dickhead most of the time as a joke to piss me off. I like Ethan though I think he’s funny and actually caring about us all and our business. “So do we write a prompt then get someone else’s to draw and keep going” max says like he didn’t ask to play it. “Yeah but make it funny about us and f1 the viewers will fucking love it” Lando says. I still can’t believe what Lando said. I join the game and wait for everyone else to join. I started to feel the panic caving in on my chest and texted Lando.

lando wtf was that?

I send quickly

what was what?

He replied back

The fucking comment like I know I’m sorry and shouldn’t have worn that before chucking something on top but why did you say that Lando

I started to let everything out on accident, but I had every right to, he was my friend and said that I should not have changed from my top that was basically lingerie.

fuck I was just joking

He replied back bluntly.

Why do I feel sad that he said that. Did he think I looked bad in it? Did he think I was looking like a hoe? Fuck why did I talk to him like that he’s my boss!

“Alright we’re starting now lock in don’t say any dumb shit” Max says right before filming the intro and starting the game. I don’t know what prompt to write. Then I get an idea to do Ethan and ginge in the sauna with Lando from a video they did a week ago. I submit it and then recieve a prompt. I bursted out laughing when reading it in my head and looking at my atrocious drawing. It’s a drawing following the prompt of Max’s bunda blocking Landos old fiat jolly, but I drew their hair orange on accident. I kept playing the game and do a few more rounds and have a laugh until we stopped recording.

The rest of the day was pretty chill as I was tired and it was a week day so i stayed at home until I feel asleep watching a movie. I wanted to get sleep like I always do but extra sleep tonight because tomorrow we were all hanging out for lunch and a chat to talk about future video ideas. Was it bad I wanted to look really good? Surely not right?

I woke up and this time remembered to change my top. I picked out a cute off the shoulder knit long sleeve top and some jeans. They made me look good with my tanned skin and made me feel just as good. I straightened my hair, brushed my teeth, and did my makeup ready to go to the cafe we were meeting up at. We always watch the video our editor puts together while we meet up at the cafe spot every week, it’s basically a routine.

Ria and I hugged each other then went to the table both fashionably late. I saw Lando, Steve, Aarav, Max, and Ethan sitting there on the big table with two spots saved. One next to Steve, and one next to Lando. After my short blunt convo with Lando I decided I wanted to sit next to Steve, but that was overruled when Ria already sat down. Well fuck isn’t this awkward. Can I order a gun?

“Hi Y/n” he says looking at me. Why is my stomach already curling into a ball. “Um hi Lando” I say quietly. I am a bit too close to home for my liking as the table was a bit small but it’s fine. We all ordered our food and I ordered some avocado toast trying to be healthy and aesthetic knowing well I end up eating some of everyone else’s food lol. Lando like the child he is ordered pancakes.

“Im sorry about what i said yesterday, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable or anything it just came out im sorry”. Lando says politely. Did I misinterpret his message? Why is he nice now? Why is my stomach tied up into knots? WHY AM I WEAK IN THE KNEES?

“Oh it’s all good I’m sorry idk why it didn’t click to change out of that fucking slutty top like a normal person” I blurt out. “Woah why are you so hard on yourself, calm down Y/n it’s completely fine and it was a nice top anyways, it looked good on you.” he said. EXCUSE ME? “Thanks?” I said confused. Thank fuck the food came otherwise I would have fainted at the awkwardness.

The food was good, Lando didn’t talk nor did I the rest of the lunch. Then we watched the video that came out. My heart sinks. The start of the video showing our cameras in the intro has me at the start or the whole morning, in that fucking top on YouTube. “Wait-fuck what why am I in there wearing that how did the editor get that clip it’s not even from the same time frame. I panicked. I was about to cry. All the comments were already flooding in hating on me saying I was attention seeking in that top. “Please get it down, please please ” I started crying already in Rias arms. Lando looked angry. “Who the fuck put that clip of her in it” he said angrily. He calls the editor who made the video on speaker. 0.00001 seconds after the editor answer Lando is already yelling.

“WHY THE FUCK DID YOU PUT THAT CLIP OF Y/N YOU DIDNT EVEN ASK HER OR CARE YOU PURPOSELY DID IT! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU JUST DID! GET IT DOWN NOW”. Lando yells before hanging up knowing the editor got the message. I’m are still shaking and trying to not bawl your eyes out with just a few tears. “Lando it’s my fault you didn’t have to yell at him like that sorry” i say weakly. “NO ITS NOT YOUR FAULT BECAUSE YOU DIDNT EVEN KNOW IT WAS FILMED AND CLIPPED YET AND HE PURPOSELY DID IT, ITS LIKE HE WANTED TO HURT YOU. FUCKING DICKHEAD”. Lando yells. Out of instinct i just run and give him a long hug. My head sinks to his chest. He holds me tightly as i hold onto him for a while.

I go back to your apartment that night. I’m just sad. Especially after reading all those comments about me. I try to ignore them all but they keep flooding in like rapid fire. I automatically give in and go on my phone. But to my confusion I’m getting tagged on twitter instead.

Fucking hell. When I thought this couldn’t get worse.

There is a video going around with hundreds of thousand of retweets already. It’s a sex tape of a girl which confuses me so I click onto it. Oh my god. It’s a deep fake of my face and that lacy bra thing on a random sex tape. I can’t do this anymore. I wish I didn’t exist. Naturally i call our quadrant group chat. Everyone answers immediately leaving me to realise they have seen it too. “Guys, I am fired” I say while bawling my eyes out. “Y/N I’m coming now with Lando” Ria says while in her car on her way to my apartment. I can’t even process what Ethan and Steve are saying cause my mind is just blurry and I’m a mess.

5 minutes later a knock is on my door and it’s Ria with Lando. I just cry in her arms and start rambling on about how my life is over. “Y/n that editor is going to jail, the YouTube vid is down and all of our socials are deactivated for now, talk to us if you need now” Lando says calmly to me. I just hug him tightly. “Can you tell everyone that’s obviously not me please” I say weakly. Ria is making me mac and cheese cause she knows it’s my favourite. “Of course I will and I will get this fixed Y/n for now just let us take care of you and get better.” Lando says. His touch is making me feel better if I’m being honest. “Thanks guys for coming over tonight, can you guys stay I’ll sleep on the couch and you guys take my bed” I say calmly as I’m starting to get her my bearings and feel a little better about everything.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch.” Lando and Ria both say straight away after my words. “Lando has a race next week so he should fuck his back up on the couch again like he did that one night he got drunk at the club last month” Ria says jokingly. “Is it okay if I’m in the bed with you?” Lando says maturely (shocking I know). “Yeah it’s fine if it is fine with you” I say back. “Yes it’s completely fine.” Lando replied quickly. I go to change into my pajamas. I see that bloody top. I don’t think twice after ripping it into pieces with my hands and teeth before chucking it out. “Fuck that ahahha” I said laughing as all the lace misses the bin but I ignore it. Ria Lando and I all start watching a movie together, Ria asks me which movie and I try to think of a normal movie I want to watch but I’m not sure why ratatouille is speaking out to me but I choose ratatouille like the wise mature person I am. Lando starts laughing obnoxiously which makes Ria and I start to as well. “It’s a good fucking movie shut up” I say defending myself laughing.

We are watching ratatoullie all together while I’m snuggled up in between Ria and Lando feelin comfortable and safe. My mind starts to forget a little bit about the stupid video situation. I don’t know why but my legs somehow ended up over landos. Whoopsies. I feel happy and safe with him, he had always been a good friend to me and always fun to be around. We all get tired after the movie ends and go to bed to sleep, well Ria goes to the couch to sleep.

Something inside of me wishes this isn’t the last time Lando is in my bed.

I myself am going to bed too xx

thanks to these lovely authors who inspired me to write ahahahha:

@mariahcarreyyy @f1goat @uglyducklingofthe2000s @vivwritesfics

[starlingflight]

Hiya friend!

Do you think Harry calls Ginny by her full name when he wants to be a little shit?

Also, just want to say that I love the way you write Ginny plus the bestie moment between Ron and Harry.

❤️

Anon, this ask did something to my brain.

Firstly, thank you so much! That's so nice of you to say 🥰

Secondly, yes, I think Harry says it to wind Ginny up, and I think he gets more than he bargained for when he does.

To demonstrate, have this unhinged one-shot (drabble? Almost) I stayed up until 3am writing, in which Harry discovers he has a certain... effect on Ginevra...

AO3 or read below:

The first time he'd said it had been at Hogwarts; not during a sunlit day, but in the peaceful hour between day and night, when dusk had been gathering around them as they sat, wrapped up in one another, beneath their favourite beech tree. 

The temperature had dropped as the sun had receded behind the tree line of the Forbidden Forest. She'd protested at first, when he'd tried to give her his jumper, but Ginny's objections had been half-hearted, and Harry's determination had been absolute, and eventually she'd slipped the soft green material over her head. 

Despite the rapidly lowering temperature, something warm and content settled in Harry's chest at the sight of her, swathed in the soft folds of his jumper. 

She shuffled closer to him, her smile impossibly bright in the growing darkness. “I'm keeping this.”  

His arms wrapped around her instinctively, keeping her near as a teasing smile grew on his own face. “If you ask nicely, I might let you.” 

Her head tilted thoughtfully; her eyes were like twin pools of firewhiskey, reflecting what little light remained as she moved. “I'm not asking, though. I'm merely informing you.” 

Harry tried for a severe expression but the effect she had on him was too much; he doubted there was a substance on Earth as strong as her. His smile stayed in place. “That's stealing, Ginevra.” 

He watched, secretly delighted, as her lips parted slightly in surprise at the use of her full name. His blood thrummed with anticipation, eager to see how she might respond. Idly, he wondered if he might have been wise to draw his wand. 

The thought was fleeting, erased from his mind, as Ginny shook her arm free of the too-long sleeve of his jumper. Her hand reached out slowly; Harry watched its progress across the small gap between them, until her fingers curled around his chin, and his eyes closed for the barest of seconds at her touch. 

Her hand guided him forward. Harry followed her silent command instinctively, closing the gap between them until it was hardly large enough for air to pass between them.

“Don't call me that,” she whispered warningly, her breath tickling his lips.

She kissed him before he could see the smile threatening to break out on her face. 

◇◇◇

He heeded the warning for just over two years before saying it a second time. 

They'd gone immediately from Platform Nine and Three Quarters to Grimmauld Place, which had been utterly transformed from the dark, dour dwelling it used to be. 

He was leaning against the windowsill in his bedroom – their bedroom – watching with utter fascination as she zipped from one side of the room to the other unpacking her Hogwarts trunk for the final time. 

She was talking a mile a minute, catching him up on everything that had happened during her final term. Harry was trying to listen despite the lump forming in his throat, and the trembling in his hands, and the overwhelming sense of fragility that was threatening to engulf him in the face of such a momentous occasion. 

Her hair potion joined his aftershave on the dresser. Harry swallowed thickly.

Ginny didn't seem to notice, or perhaps she was letting him reach an equilibrium in his own time, either way, she flashed him a heart-stoppingly beautiful smile as she hung her dressing gown on the back of the door, right beside his. The effect was immediate. He felt himself relax. 

The blood pounding in his ears receded, and Ginny's words came sharply back into focus. 

“...I skipped half of my classes the week leading up to the final,” she told him with a sly smile that coaxed him into the easy rhythm of their usual back and forth. “Hermione was horrified, but I decided the extra flying time was more important.”

The corners of Harry's lips tugged upwards, momentarily returning her smirk. “I'm disappointed to hear you weren't taking your academics seriously, Ginevra.” 

The small stack of books she'd been carrying to her nightstand tumbled from her grasp to the floor. She crossed to him in three quick steps, forced to rise onto her tiptoes, and even then not matching Harry's height. Her eyes smouldered as they met his. “I told you not to call me that.” 

Something about the way she was looking at him turned his blood molten in his veins. “I'm just trying to make you feel at home.”

Her fingers curled around his t-shirt, pulling him to her. “I am home.” 

He kissed her before she could see the smile threatening to break out on his face. 

◇◇◇

Almost another year passed before he said it a third time. 

Harry was in the kitchen, surrounded by dirty bowls, cracked eggshells, and streaks of flour that ran along the counter top. The recipe book Molly had given him for Christmas was propped open in front of him.  

"Something smells good," Ginny announced, breathing deeply as she entered the kitchen, still dressed in her training robes.  

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth in greeting, the gesture so natural now that he did it unthinkingly. 

“Attempt number six,” he informed her, inclining his head towards the oven, where his latest endeavour at a birthday cake for Teddy was baking. 

Ginny's eyebrows rose in surprise. “You've been busy.” He'd been on attempt number three when she'd left for practice. 

“I can't get it to rise properly.” 

He didn't fool himself into believing she couldn't hear the edge of frustration in his voice. Her hand squeezed his arm in silent reassurance. “Andromeda said she was happy to make it.” 

“I know, but she does so much already.” 

Ginny's fingers slid from his arm, moving upwards, not stopping until they found his cheek, turning his head and forcing him to look at her. “So do you.” 

He nodded, unwilling to agree verbally, but knowing she wouldn't allow him to argue. Still, he couldn't stop himself from saying. “I want to get this right for him.”

“Well, I've yet to discover the thing you can't do when you set your mind to it,” she said encouragingly, her hand leaving his cheek, and heading for the countertop. She shot him a wink that had the contrary results of soothing his agitation, and making his heart rate speed up.  “Besides, I have a good feeling about this one.” 

Her finger ran along the inside edge of the mixing bowl, collecting a sticky coating of  cake mixture on the tip. 

Impulsively, Harry grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand towards him, and licking the sweet mixture off her finger before she could. “You're supposed to wait for the cake to finish baking, Ginevra.” 

Her eyes darkened, lips parting around a sharp intake of breath, confirming a suspicion Harry had been harbouring since the last time he'd said it.  She liked it. 

“If you call me that again, I'll hex you,” her voice was low, dangerous. Seductive. 

“You can try,” Harry said, in a tone that matched hers. His fingers tightened around her wrist, pulling her to him. “But it's only fair to warn you you're dealing with a highly trained Auror.” 

Ginny's head tilted thoughtfully, eyes sweeping over him like she was sizing him up; his skin heated everywhere her gaze touched. “You're forgetting I know all of your weaknesses.” 

Harry hummed against her lips, unable to disagree. She did know all of his weaknesses, that much was undeniable, but he had definitely just confirmed one of hers. He could tell she knew it too. It was obvious from the way her eyes sparked as they met his, silently daring him to test her. 

“You wouldn't fight me though, would you, Ginevra?” 

He accentuated every syllable of her name, drawing it out, enthralled by the way her whole body stiffened in response. 

A beat of tension-filled silence followed, stretching for what felt like eternity, before Ginny surged forward. Their matching smiles broke free a moment before their lips met, and Harry sank into her kiss.

[agustd-png]

Day 6: Jungkook + Namjoon 🎄 Double Penetration (one hole)

Kinkmas 2023

"I think she can take it," Namjoon said to Jungkook, though his full attention was on you. "Two is a lot, but she's been doing good. Haven't you, babygirl?"

He was referring to your "training"; slowly you worked up to using bigger and bigger toys on yourself, with his help, and you'd gotten used to some rather large ones by this point. But even the largest toy Namjoon had stretched your pussy with was not the same as having two cocks in it. You were unsure, but the thought was so intriguing to you (especially if the other would be his friend Jungkook), that you were up for it.

"I'll try my best," you said with a nod and a sensual smile.

"I know you will," Namjoon praised.

You all took your time; you knew you would need it if you had a prayer in reaching this new goal. But getting to explore Jungkook's toned body for the first time was a treat that you wanted to draw out anyway, and he seemed just as eager to do the same with you.

You'd already taken each of them separately and felt your wetness and lube dripping down onto the sheets below. Namjoon cradled your face as you straddled him, ready to sit back onto his cock. "Look at me." You saw the way his pupils were blown out in lust. "Tell me if it's too much and we'll stop. Okay?"

You nodded, knowing with all your heart that to be true, but loving to hear it all the same.

You easily pushed back onto him, sliding right down the length. He shifted his pelvis, rolling it in circles in an attempt to stretch you open a bit more. You leaned forward and pressed your sweaty chest to his, giving Jungkook as much room as possible. He got up to kneel behind you and you felt his dick prod at the already filled hole. "Gonna be a tight fit," he said, but in a delighted tone rather than an unsure one. He seemed to think you could do this too.

Namjoon kissed your neck over and over, between encouraging praises whispered in your ear. You knew relaxing would be the most important part and tried extra hard to do so, letting your weight rest on Namjoon fully, his strong hands holding your ass securely.

Jungkook slowly pushed in, over the course of several minutes, and though there were a few moments it stung, a few times you jumped and started back at square one, and a few times you really thought you'd be unable to take them both that day, soon enough you felt a change and realized you'd done it. "Holy shit..." Jungkook groaned loudly when he felt just how wonderfully tight and warm this was, breaking into your thoughts.

Your eyes closed and you got lost in the feeling. "Feels so fucking full..."

"I'm sure," Namjoon chuckled. "Just wait till we move. Can we?"

You nodded enthusiastically, leaning in to kiss him. An unhinged moan broke through you when they did, pulling back then rubbing past each other on their way back in, as if fighting for who got to be the deepest. The way they dragged against your tight walls was blissful, hitting every spot inside you. And on top of that, two sets of hands feeling you up, and two mouths kissing all over your body. What more could you ask for?

Please consider liking, reblogging, commenting, and/or sending a message!

[t1oui]

can I please get your thoughts on rosekiller raising Luna?? I've been obsessed with it lately and you've mentioned it before I want to know more about your headcannons!!!

AAAAAA OKAY im obsessed with them too but i think this has been established. just

first of all think canon luna but 10x more unhinged bc rosekiller are not doing her any favors in the "having morals" and "acting normal" departments (we love that for them)

BARTY CALLS LUNA PRINCESS. i am so... no i cant even lie and say im normal about this it's just a fact of life. he calls her princess and he treats her like one too.

they probably commit crimes or something (if you want more info on this search "criminal au" on my blog bc i have so many thoughts... there's also like 3 things under the tag "criminal au 2 electric boogaloo" lol)

this tag on one of my posts. it says a lot

back to what i said about luna being treated like a princess: does she dress weird? yes. but her clothes and necklaces and the radishes she makes earrings out of are TOP TIER QUALITY bc their girl deserves that.

the three of them wear friendship bracelets

what luna calls them depends on how she's feeling - sometimes she calls them uncle barty and uncle evan, sometimes papa and dad, sometimes just barty and evan

luna gets her offputting gaze from evan and it shows

somehow she's actually such a well-rounded child?? absolutely nobody expects this

rosekiller encourage luna's interests!!!

the three of them cuddle a lot, especially luna and barty.

luna gets all the hogwarts gossip and reports it back to barty via owl

barty 100% teaches luna to drive at age 10 (evan is sitting in the backseat hanging on for dear life)

barty teaches luna how to pickpocket and evan teaches her potions (he doesn't talk about pandora and reg that often, but he makes sure she's got their skill sets)

autistic luna getting a new pair of noise-cancelling headphones. barty and evan helping her cover them in stickers. barty asking to try them out. luna and evan getting him his own pair and covering them in stickers for him :))

(barty cries)

(he actually cries a lot bc "hey, it's okay to cry, luna. no, i'm not crying because of that card you just gave me, but the drawing was really nice and i'm going to cherish it forever")

(she sees right through him but she doesn't say so)

whoever luna ends up with gets a very serious shovel talk from barty and evan (evan does most of the talking, barty just sits there glaring at luna's partner).

ginny finds it funny as hell. anybody else is scared shitless. (this gets ginny a good rep with barty and evan.)

they're soooo soft for each other.

i'm a personal fan of luna and cho being friends and i have a feeling evan and barty would, inexplicably, love her.

barty and evan hate sirius. sirius hates them back. the order of the phoenix has an unspoken rule that the three of them are not allowed in a room together.

barty is italian and luna & ev both know italian for him, so they speak italian with each other a lot.

muggle au rosekiller raising luna!! they hold a special place in my heart. barty and evan run an italian restaurant together and luna is a waitress there. (so is harry.)

yk how snape treats harry like shit bc he hated james? yeah, barty and evan treat harry well bc regulus loved james. (also bc they don't take out their anger on children but mostly bc being mean to someone who reminds them of regulus would hurt too much.)

i swear i have more thoughts about them but i'm totally blanking right now so uhh... feel free to send more asks and i will reply when i have thoughts !! thanks for the ask :)

[gretavanlace]

Purple Haze

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, use of marijuana, language, dirty talk, praise, degradation, sliiiiight dom/sub if you squint and turn your head just right. Idk, you guys know me by now

This goes out to my anon who asked for smoked up, lazy, dirty sex with josh, about a million years ago. I’ve lost your ask, but I hope you know I loved and appreciated your request, and I apologize for the long, long wait.

“Stop staring at me.” you run the tip of your tongue along the blunt you’ve just completed, purposely avoiding Josh’s gaze.

He sits at the opposite end of the couch, eyes boring a heated hole through you. “Can’t help it.” Out of the corner of your eye, you watch him curl his legs, twisting them beneath him, rendering himself even tinier than usual. “You look sexy when you roll.”

You hand him the blunt and a lighter - the green hit is his favorite. “You only think that because you can’t roll for shit.”

“Never needed to, Jake was always around to do it for me, and now I have a pretty girl to do my bidding.” He sounds pleased with himself, so naturally, you feel like knocking him down a peg.

“And you’re just okay with being a pillow princess? Happy to sit back while I do all the work?”

“Delighted.” he winks around a long, lazy hit. “This one’s a little too tight, though. You losing your touch?”

The perverted old man quip comes to you so quickly you consider getting up to check the mail for your honorary penis. “Thought you liked tight, Josh?”

“Oh my god,” he groans, passing to you after hitting it twice like a mannerless savage. “That was bad, babe. Like, Samuel level bad. We gotta work on your material.”

You smoke and pass back and forth in comfortable silence for a while until, as usual, he feels the need to fill it. “Wanna walk down to the store for weird snacks? I’ll hold your hand and pretend I like you.”

This is a favorite little game of his. Find a store and search out the strangest snacks you can find. The first time you’d played with him, he’d given you the most disappointed look you’ve ever seen grace his beautiful features when, with a smirk, you’d presented him with a cylinder of Pumpkin Pie Spice Pringles. “I said weird, love,” he’d frowned, tucking them onto a random shelf behind you. “Not disgusting.”

“No,” you sigh, crawling across the couch cushions until you can curl up like a cat with your head in his lap. “I don’t feel like going anywhere.”

“Okay,” he runs his thumb over your mouth. “Bad lip reading?”

Another of his favorites…throw on an old movie or cheesy sitcom, mute the volume, and make up your own dialogue. He is the reigning champion…mainly because his thoughts are completely unhinged at all times anyway.

You shake your head in his lap, just to feel the soft weight of his cock nudge against your temple. “You always win.”

“Sore loser, are we?” He teases softly, lifting his hips closer to you subtly.

“I’m high.” Your voice is slow and lazy…a fuzzy breath undulating along just like the haze of smoke that plays above your heads.

“Wasn’t that kind of the point?” His voice sounds just as faraway. Bluesy and thick.

Turning your face inward, you shamelessly nuzzle against his dick again through his sweats. Dragging your tongue along the length of it before bestowing a gentle bite into the girth of it. He sucks in a hiss of an inhale through those perfect teeth of his and then releases it shakily. “Watch it, baby.”

“I think you liked it.” You challenge, just before lightly biting once more. He’s harder now, and the moan you draw from his chest makes your thighs both press together and ache to spread apart.

“You want that?” His tone is guiding you down a familiar path…he’s switched on now, and you are positively alight with excitement.

“Yes.” You nod up at him with your sweetest fuck me eyes.

“Where? You want this pretty mouth all nice and full?” His thumb tugs at your bottom lip, “Or would you like to be nice and full somewhere else?

“I wanna sit on your lap.” the words drift out of you with a wandering curl of a smoky exhale as you pass the blunt back to him.

He takes it, fills his lungs and then rasps around the hit he’s still holding in. “On my lap or on my cock?”

Leaning forward, he brings his mouth to yours and gently breathes the smoke into your mouth. You accept the shared hit with lust and longing pulsing through your body hard and fast.

“So romantic, Joshua.” You tease, unable to summon much of a bullying tone…you almost sound serious, and maybe you are. No one else gets to sit on his cock, who’s to say what romance is? Shouldn’t it be in the eye of the beholder? Like beauty? Surely the universe holds millions of unique instances of love that…

Oh no, when you start thinking like Josh, you know you’re cashed. To that end, when he moves to pass to you, you shake your head and fumble up to straddle him while he leans over the arm of the couch to stub it out in a tiny clay ashtray he crafted in art class his freshman year of high school.

“Told the teacher it was a jewelry dish for my sister’s birthday so it wouldn’t be confiscated.” He likes to remind you proudly. As if his teacher actually bought his bullshit.

“Hi, cookie.” He smiles, red eyes heavy and slow as they drink you in.

“Cookie?” You laugh, rocking slowly down against him…the warmth of his cock leading you toward drowsiness, like slipping into a bath filled with fragrant, iridescent, bubbles.

“Yeah, you look good. Tempting. Plus, you taste very sweet.” He shrugs, “Also, I’m high as hell and thinking about food. We should’ve done the grocery store thing.”

“Okay,” your hips are rolling with rhythm now, his fingers gripping deliciously into your sides. “Well, it makes me feel like I’m a cocker spaniel, so quit it.”

A full-chested laugh rolls out of him as his head falls to rest against the back of the couch. “You’re cute, you know that?”

“Cute?” Your palms slide up his shirt, thumbs circling over his nipples as he hums and gasps his appreciation.

“So cute,” he pulls you down onto his lap harder, grinding up into you until the tip of his still hidden cock is sweeping over your clit. “And I’m high and hungry. What should I call you? Salt and vinegar chips? My crunchy taco supreme? Questionable leftovers? Chicken flavored ramen?”

How are you laughing this hard while simultaneously soaking through your panties?

“Mmm,” you moan, as though swooning. “Questionable leftovers, please. Fuckin’ hot.”

He quiets your giggles by wrapping one palm around your throat, the other clasping the nape of your neck, owning you as he pulls you in, nose to nose.

“But you’re my favorite thing to eat, aren’t you? So what if I just called you my pretty little cunt, like that’s all you are to me?”

The air in your lungs tumbles free on a stuttering, hitching, embarrassing, sound of lust, and the look in his eyes tells you it hasn’t gone unnoticed. “Oh…you liked that, didn’t you?”

“Josh, please…” you whimper, yanking at the waistline of his sweats.

“Needy girl.” He teases, breathing into your mouth, “On your feet.”

“No.” You protest with the smallest of pouts. “Right here.”

“Just need to get these off you, love.” He cradles your cheek and snaps at your pj bottoms. “Up.”

You feel the gentle heat of a blush rising to your cheeks. You really are gone. Cross-faded on the THC floating through your system, and him. Mostly him. “Love?” You laugh quietly as you stumble up. “What happened to Questionable Leftovers?”

His gaze lifts to yours, dark and full of lust, yet still swimming in the bliss of the blunt. “Don’t you mean, ‘What happened to my pretty little cunt’? Because, I think you liked that one better.”

Without another word, eyes locked on yours, he rids you of your pj’s and panties, himself of his sweats and then manhandles you back down against him, while you clutch your bottom lip between your teeth.

Rather than bother with your tank top, he simply yanks the neck of it down, stretching it out until your tits pop free. He nestles his face between them and murmurs against your skin; sweet nothings and filthy promises as he licks and sucks at your nipples until you’re shivering and panting, tugging at his curls, hungry for more.

“Josh, please…” the words tremble out shakily and he nibbles on the tip of your breast in response.

“Begging already?” He smiles fondly, the fine hairs of his mustache bringing chills with the movement. “Such a sweet girl. Who’s my sweet girl, hmm? Tell me.”

“Me. I’m your sweet girl.” you arch your back, sending your nipple further into his mouth, but he pulls away.

He reaches down and drags his thumb over the glistening shine you’ve glazed his cock with, then brings it to your lips. He watches on while you lick it away, savoring yourself on your tongue. “Yeah, taste…such a sweet girl, aren’t you?”

You nod and fight to keep your eyes from rolling back in your head.

“You’re dripping all over me.” He points out with that luscious rasp quieting his tone. His fingers guide your hips a bit faster. “Making such a mess of my cock with your slutty, wet, pussy…”

“Fuck,” the curse escapes you unexpectedly, interrupting him.

“Yeah?” He teases. “See? You know what you like, don’t you, baby? You’re a sweet girl for me until I start whispering filthy things.”

“Then what am I?” You yank and tug on his shirt with a lazy fever, both enjoying and hating the game all at once.

His palm cracks against the outside of your thigh, fingers digging into the soft, thick of it. “Then you're my pretty, pretty cock drunk whore. Look at you, begging for it with your whole body, all slow and gentle because you’re in the clouds and sleepy stoned. I love it.”

“Stop teasing,” you plead, sugary as cotton candy. “I want it.”

“And you’ll have it. You know I can’t deny you for long, love, but right now this just feels too fucking good.” He angles his hips to nestle the silky tip of his cock against your clit. “Beautiful cunt all slick and hot against me. Keep going. Just a little longer.”

“No.” You shock him statue-still when, in a flash of movement that should be too swift for your inebriated state - you lift your hips, wrap your fingers around the thick base of him, and slip him inside.

His arms are wrapped around you in a blazingly fast blink of an eye. “Sit still.” He orders, voice firm and unwavering…it sends a spark of electricity popping up your spine. “Naughty girl too high to know what’s good for her?”

Your eyebrow hooks defiantly, “Maybe.”

Without bothering to reply, he licks his thumb absently and drops it down to your clit. “Oh,” he grins. “This darling little clit is just hard as a rock. No wonder you’re being so pushy…you must want it bad.”

“You think my clit is darling?” You're trying to taunt him, challenging for the upper hand.

“Of course I do.” He begins circling over it with tight, silken, curls of his thumb. “So darling. So precious and pink, soft and delicate…and the things I can do to you just by babying her around a bit.” He hums, as if remembering. “Fucking perfect. Fucking darling.”

“Standing by your statement,” You gasp, trying your hardest to fuck yourself on his cock while he holds you still and sure. “Good man.”

You grow louder, nearing your end, tip-toeing along that familiar razor-sharp edge, silently praying that the way you can feel yourself clenching around his cock will coerce him into finally fucking it up into you.

And yet, he doesn’t…and it forces your hand.

“Fuck me,” you finally give in and beg. “Please baby, just fuck me.”

“Earn it.” He whispers, watching your face intently as his hand plays you like a song. “Be a good girl and fucking earn it.”

“I don’t want to earn it.” You whine, catering to his need to baby you. “I want you to just give it to me. Spoil me.”

“You’re a worthy opponent, love…” he croons softly, sounding proud. “I almost gave in. Almost. Now, come on, little girl, give it up. I can feel you right there, you’re squeezed so tight around me.”

Your head falls against his shoulder, thrashing back and forth but he’s having none of it. “Huh-uh, baby. Want you to watch me make you cum.”

Wrenching yourself back up, you train your blurry gaze on his face, and, with a whispered, “C’mon, sweetheart, right on my cock with that gorgeous little cunt…” he shoves you into the abyss.

Darkness seeps into the peripherals of your vision as you try to stay focused on his ethereal face, and the pained expression painted across it. In the end, it becomes too much, and your head lolls back with a blissful cry.

Rather than scold you for not honoring his request to keep your eyes on him, he buries his face in the crook of your neck and groans out praises and obscenities. Most of which you can’t understand through the lavender fog he has unleashed in your brain.

When, at last, the smoke clears, you find his eyes. It's as though he’s been waiting a thousand years for you for as much desperation as you find in his stare.

“Ride me,” he orders, sounding as shaky and needy as you must have just a few short moments ago. “Right now…fucking ride me, please baby, oh my god - fuck, please.”

You could tease him. You could metaphorically push him around a bit about how the tables have turned. But in reality, the tables haven’t turned at all - you want him just as badly. You want to ride him until nothing else exists in the world.

When you begin rolling your hips, sending his cock slipping in and out of your warmth with a divine, slick, drag, he doubles over away from the back of the couch and into your arms. “That’s it, sweetheart…fuck me.”

“Yeah?” You hum, raking your fingernails softly over his scalp just to feel him shudder with chills.

“Yeah. Doing so fucking good for me, baby…gonna make me cum.”

Pushing him back, you lean away, trying to find that elusive angle that will send him rutting against that perfect spot inside you, but instead, you stumble upon something that’s perfect for him.

“Right there…” he gasps, clawing his dull nails into your hips. “Oh fuck, fuck…right there. Don’t stop…right there…there there there…”

“Cum for me,” you coax, fucking him harder now as he loses it completely beneath you. Writhing and thrashing and clutching at you desperately. “Come on, baby…right inside. I want it so bad.”

With a loud, feral growl that could shake the rafters, he spills into you. His body twisting and bucking into yours, violently grasping for purchase to keep him grounded.

It takes an astonishingly long time for him to calm down, but you just pet him patiently, babying him softly, loving on him and whispering sweet things.

Normally, he would complain that you’ve only gotten off once, no matter how much you insisted you were fine. He’s almost never satisfied with once. Twice is barely sufficient in his book, but he’s too far gone. He came too hard to care, and you feel positively smug about it.

When, after a leisurely bask in the afterglow, you move to climb off his lap, he whines in protest. “Stay.”

“You know, you get very subby after you get off.” You poke gentle fun and lift away from him despite his complaints.

“I do not!” He huffs. His hand darts out to swat your ass, but he misses by a mile and slumps back against the couch rather than worrying about trying again.

“Yes, you do.” You correct, flashing him a little smile. “Now you just wait here while I run to the bathroom. I’ll be back to clean you up, and then I’m going to make sandwiches.”

“Oh great, mysterious universe,” he extends a fluid, waving hand toward the ceiling as you slip out of the room. “Full of wonder and truth, secrets and curiosities…what have I done to deserve this woman? Giver of orgasms, Bringer of sandwiches...I am unworthy.”

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @gardenofgreta @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @greta-flanveet-admin @joshkiszkas @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @calumspretty @dvrkblooms @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @theweightofjake @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordierama

[tortor-sauce]

18+ POST LOOK AWAY 👹🔞 if you’re not 18+ PLEASE DNI with this post!! 👹🔞

(sketch and drabble and headcanons)

(jel/reth/oc stuff)

GO AWAY LOOK AWAY!!!!! IM WARNING YOU 🔪

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP I CANT EVEN TAG THIS I DONT EVEN WANT PEOPLE TO SEE BUT I HAVE TO SHOW SOMEONE AND TALK ABOUT IT OR I’LL EXPLODE!!!!

i’m too shy to share the whole picture IM SORRY—i just wanted to capture a few headcanons into a single shamelessly horny drawing of the three of them together. also, my thoughts are completely unorganized and this post is mostly just me rambling!

small disclaimer, if you don’t agree with or like my headcanons, that’s totally valid but please don’t tell me so 🙇 i kindly ask you just move on from this post. thank you!

okay. so i feel like both reth and jel are service tops HEAR ME OUT—like, they’re both just a couple of pathetic lover boys who are so head over heels in love with you. the fact they practically always gift you something when you flirt with them in-game (jel gifting silk and reth gifting soup) i feel is their attempts at spoiling you and taking care of you in their own way. they just want to see you happy and make you cum your brains out a thousand times until you can’t think straight anymore 🥺

and in general, i feel jel would love to shower you in compliments and words of praise and practically worship your body. while i feel reth is the type to show you how he feels and relish in watching you come undone with him. but personally 👉👈 i feel jel and reth align more closely as switches because they’re both so.. so soft and need to be spoiled and loved so deeply (no innuendo intended)

with that said, i think jel is a more intimate and passionate lover while reth is a bit more unhinged and rough. that’s not to say jel doesn’t have his sadistic bouts. i feel it stems directly from his obsessive nature and grows into a desire to watch you submit to him and his whims, sort of in a controlling way. but it makes him so happy when you do. the need to know you belong to him, both your heart and body, is honestly really important to him. i actually feel he has control issues due to a number of reasons but that’s a different discussion—💀 and he rewards you so thoroughly for showing him how much you love him. god, the aftercare? he’s so gentle and attentive and treats you like the most precious thing he’s ever held.

more on reth, while not as sadistic, i feel he’s still plenty controlling when he wants to be. the poor man has hardly any control in his day-to-day life and the fact you allow him an ounce of control? over your body of all things? yeah, that shit drives him mad (positive). gets a bit carried away and leaves marks on your body, hickeys, scratches, bruises, the like. but hey, at least it’s a pretty reminder of how much fun you had together. plus, if anyone sees they’ll know you belong to him. but he definitely teases you about it the following days by making sly comments and even running his fingers over the more sensitive marks.

so, in my polycule i envision moments where two will actively spoil the other. so for instance like when maddox and reth want to spoil jel and shower him in the love and affection he deserves, he gets all shy and blushy but relishes in the moment. he pays them back tenfold once they’re finished, but not that same night. maddox and reth make sure he’s completely worn out so he’ll finally get some damn sleep for once. reth is the same in that regard; he gets all shy and blushy but he enjoys being spoiled for once. not having to care about anything or anyone else and focus fully on himself and his pleasure. and the two know this and want to show him how loved he is. lowkey i imagine jel bringing him to tears, crying tears of pleasure and from overstimulation but that may be a personal thing of mine. 💀 and as for maddox? they both know exactly which buttons to push. i imagine them sort of egging each other along. i mentioned earlier i think jel has a sadistic side to him, well i think the same of reth albeit not nearly as prominent. like, the fact he teases and flirts so much could be for a number of reasons, but how lovely it would be if it were only to watch their reactions each time. with that said, maddox happens to be very reactive and discovering that fact in bed, like, awakens something inside of him to tease more, to push as much as maddox will allow him. and yes, he notices the way jel reacts to it too. it only makes him want to tease him for the fact as well 🥴 WHICH is why i drew him with that expression LMAO normally i would’ve imagined him with a much softer and kinder expression but i think he’s quick to lose himself in the throes of pleasure which causes him to act a bit selfish at times. but like i said, i see him as a service top so really his ‘selfish’ moments are him just spoiling maddie and jel and showering their bodies with so much love and attention.

i have so many more thoughts but this post is getting long and i’m getting embarrassed so i’ll stop there for now.

IF YOU READ THIS IM SORRY LOL BUT THANK YOU FOR INDULGING ME///////

[sunlightandsuffering]

The crazy Sacrilege fan here ! I LOVE THAT DRABBLE MIKASA IS SUCH AN UNHINGED FREAK I ADORE HER THANK YOU LYS THANK YOU !!! And Eren cares about her , « might even love her, just a little » LMFAO MR COP IS SO BUSTED !! If I may ask, how do you think they would react to a pregnancy scare ? I think crazy ass Mika might even like it, think it’s the Lord’s Will for them to be with child . Eren is head over heels for his little gf so he woudn’t mind giving her a child but he doesn’t want her to regret it later, she needs to go to college and start a career first!

AHAHAHA OMG ILY !!!! 💗💗 ur so funny lol!!! THEY'RE BOTH UNHINGED THO AND THAT'S WHAT WE LOVE THEM FOR, THE ABSOLUTE FUCKING CHAOS !!!!

omg okay, i can totally see this going like both ways, mostly bc I'm so anti religion bc of how much fucking shit it can create. So me, being a little shit, i'd love to go against the grain here and have Mikasa just be pRO CHOICE GIRLY !! Altho I do think she'd be like a little thrilled to have a child with Eren lol. LETS WRITE IT AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS!! bro tell me why they're so cute tho i like this drabble lol

Mikasa stares at the pregnancy test blankly, head knocked back against the bathroom cabinet of Eren’s apartment. Two little red lines to seal her fate, she should be thrilled.  

She isn’t. 

Contrary to her mother and every other girl in her church, Mikasa feels nothing but dread, cold, inescapable dread and suffocation. Because yes, a baby is cute, a baby is sweet, a baby would be the perfect embodiment of her and Eren’s love. They’d be the picture perfect happy family, the one people see on instagram, and she could be a stay at home mom and do all that ridiculous mom-fluencer stuff she sees.

The entire idea makes Mikasa want to throw up, and she’s not so sure it’s the pregnancy, because she isn’t that far along at all yet. 

She slumps, dropping the test to the floor beside her and blinking back stubborn tears, she wonders if this is God’s plan. Because surely, it must be? She wouldn’t be pregnant if it wasn’t His will. Hell, she’s already gone against the church by using birth control, condoms and the pill. 

So there’s really no other way she could have possibly gotten pregnant, right? Nothing else other than pure divine intervention would have allowed this. 

Mikasa sniffles meekly, a tear sleeping down her cheek despite her attempts not to cry and she wipes it away with her sleeve. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she crumples in on herself because what the fuck is she going to do? She’s not married, not yet at least, not in school yet –will probably have to drop out now actually– and her parents will most certainly withdraw what little support they were willing to provide her. She can hear it now, they’re going to call her sweet little baby a bastard, the church will gossip, her youth group will turn on her, and the pastor will look at her with eyes full of disgust at every turn. The tears flow faster now, slipping down her cheeks freely, and before she realizes it, she’s sobbing alone in Eren’s apartment bathroom, utterly alone. 

And there’s that too, isn’t there, how Eren will react. She doesn’t know, doesn’t want to lose him, but what if it’s too soon? Eren isn’t that old, only 24 and still working his way up in the force, he probably doesn’t want a baby yet either. 

He’s certainly never talked about it, and it has Mikasa tearing up all over again, because she’s going to lose him, and her parents again all at once. And she can’t lose him, she just can’t, she loves him. What had started as pure angsty rebellion had turned into love so quickly she doesn’t even know when it started. But he’s so supportive, hot, and so fucking good for her if she thinks about it, had told her just to fucking move in when her parents had gotten fussy over their break-up. He’d shrugged like it was no big deal, “Don’t worry about rent, Mika, just as long as you sleep in my bed.” Then, he’d left for work with a wink, and Mikasa for the first time in her life had real fucking independence, the very thing she’d been yearning for, begging for when he’d fucked her on that alter. 

And now here she is, about to lose it all again, her shackles renewed by the responsibility of a child and all the pressures that come with being a mom before she’s financially ready or responsible in the slightest. 

There is a click outside and Mikasa inhales sharply, glancing at her watch, because how long has she been in this bathroom moping? It’s 9:00 am on the dot, Eren is home, having just gotten off an overnight shift, and she can already hear him stomping around, seeking her out. “Mikasa,” He calls, and she slaps a hand over her mouth to keep quiet, for what she doesn’t know, he’ll find her eventually. “Baby where are you, I can see your shoes by the door, come out.” She doesn’t, fear paralyzes her, this agony of what to do, to tell him, not to tell him, to just run away and give it up for adoption, show up again in nine months and hope he doesn’t hate her. But Eren is a cop, surely he’d find her no matter where she went? And he does, just like he’d find her if she ran away, sweeping the apartment methodically before coming to the bathroom door, just off his bedroom. 

He knocks, “Miki, what are you doing?” She doesn’t answer, just grabs the pregnancy test, holds it closer as the two positive red lines blur together, tears flowing freely again. It takes Eren one attempt, one fucking shot to jimmy the lock open, and he’s leaning against the door frame like an avenging angel as he looks her over. He’s terrifying, clad in his police uniform, black cargo pants with so many pockets and that tight long sleeve shirt that goes under his body armour. 

He quirks a brow up at her as he notices her tears, eyes scanning her over, and she can pinpoint the exact moment he notices the pregnancy test, his teeth coming down to bite into his lip, his only nervous tic. “So,” He asks casually, “Pregnant?” She nods meekly, a sob working its way up her throat, all she can think to do is apologize, because obviously it’s her fault, “I’m so sorry Eren.” 

She should have never slept with him, never disobeyed God like this, it’s her punishment, and she just spirals, ugly crying in her boyfriend’s bathroom at 8 am on a wednesday. “Oh Miki no, it takes two, okay,” Eren half laughs as he kneels down next to her, tucking a strand of hair out of her eyes. He wipes the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, cupping her face with more love and affection than she’s ever known in her life, “It was definitely more me if I recall correctly, in the back of my squad car, in the kitchen,” He smirks, looking down at her, “Yesterday morning in the shower.” Mikasa smacks him for that, choking out a laugh, “Stop it, I’m sad right now.” Eren chuckles, sitting down next to her and grabbing her hand with the pregnancy test to look at it himself. “You don’t have to be sad Miki, it doesn’t have to be a big thing you know.” 

She leans into him, her head on his shoulder as she thinks about it, “Eren I’m gonna get huge and fat, it’s definitely gonna be a thing and people are definitely going to notice.” He bumps her with his shoulder lightly, “Nah you’d be cute pregnant, and fuck,” He groans as if he’s thinking about it, “Your tits would definitely get even better.” Mikasa gasps, smacking his arm again, and before she can stop him he’s going in for a squeeze that has her yelping because yeah, she’s already a little more sensitive. He smirks, more smug than he has any right to be in this situation, ten minutes ago she was crying her eyes out. 

“So does this mean you want it, then, that you’ll support me?” Mikasa asks hopefully and Eren squeezes her thigh, looking down at her with more intensity than she knew him capable of, “Mikasa of course I’ll support you in whatever you decide to do, this would be my kid too.” He pauses and Mikasa waits, looking up at him earnestly, ready to accept whatever else he has to say, because he’s Eren and he so obviously loves her. “I know it’s a little taboo in the church community, but have you thought about getting an abortion?” Mikasa cracks, heaving out a great sob, and before she knows it she’s in Eren’s lap with him shushing her as she whispers all her fears into his neck, “You don’t want it, you’re lying you just- you just want to appease me and –” “Mikasa,” Eren kisses his way up her neck, voice right at her ear, “I’m not lying, but look at me.” He cups her chin roughly, tilting her head up so she’s forced to look into those pretty green eyes, “Baby you’re in school, you haven’t even started yet, and I’ve heard you, fuck baby I’ve heard you talk about school so many times and how much you want to be a nurse.” He leans down, so their foreheads touch, and he leans into her, “And as much as I’d love to see you pregnant, how fucking pretty you’d be, cute as hell waddling around my house knocked up with my fucking kid, it would also suck a lot because I know Mikasa that you’d be miserable, would be delaying your dreams for several years at the very fucking least and I could never ask you to do that.” Mikasa inhales shakily, relaxing into him now, the hand on her thigh, the other at the nape of her neck, how warm and solid he is against her, Eren. 

She tilts her head up for a kiss, something soft, chaste, comfort. 

He kisses her softly, all gentle affection, his hand rubbing over her thigh to keep her calm and when she pulls back she’s calmer, more stable in his arms. 

“Is it allowed?” She whispers, almost nervously, afraid she’ll be shot down by the universe at the mere suggestion. Eren laughs, his hand drifting up to her hip to tug her closer in his lap, “Of course it’s allowed Mikasa, no one has to know we have free health care you know, we’ll just you know, schedule you an appointment, I don’t think it’s that hard.” “Really?” she mumbles, “Just like that?” “I think so, I mean obviously I haven’t had one, but I don’t think it’ll be that difficult, we can call in a minute.”

“Okay,” she mumbles and Eren kisses her again, nipping her cheek as he demands her attention, “But I want to know you’re doing it for you, not because of me or anything else, this has to be your decision Mikasa and I’m just along for the ride.” She sighs, “I think you’re right, I just didn’t want to be the one to say it, but before you got here all I could think about was how much it was going to fuck up my life.” Eren gasps, and she looks up, suddenly afraid, does he think she’s disgusting, a worthless human being because of it? His eyes are alight with amusement, “You swore, what a naughty little church girl you are.” 

She smacks him and violently, which has him cackling, and he uses his leverage to go in for another kiss, which she accepts gratefully. “As long as it’s your decision Mikasa, I don’t care, hell I kind of agree, I’m not sure if I’d be a great dad right now, I’m too selfish. I wanna keep you to myself for as long as I can.” Mikasa laughs, “Then maybe we’d better start using better protection.” “Yeah, we’re also scheduling you for an IUD appointment, because fuck are you bad at taking those pills.” She winces, “I took it this morning.” Eren looks at her in disbelief, “Miki you’re already pregnant.” “Well, I tried not to be,” She tells him poutily and Eren pinches her waist, “You did a shit job.” “We just agreed it was your fault!” 

Eren smiles deviously, “Yeah it is, and it’s about to be my fault again.” 

He yanks her down against him, a devilish gleam in his eyes, and she can feel his very obvious erection right against the soft of her cunt, separated only by the thin layer of her pyjama pants. 

“Have you been hard the entire time?” “I’m not a monster, just since you swore, it just does things to me, it’s not my fault, really it’s yours.” “Oh my God,” Mikasa groans, and she can feel Eren below her, grinding her down against his cock, that guilty look on his face, “Holy fuck does it turn you on when I’m like bad?” “Is that blasphemous of me?” 

“God yes,” She tells him and then she’s kissing him, because no one else but Eren Yeager has ever made being bad feel so good.

[corrodedbisexual]

For a rather long while, Steve mostly keeps to himself just how truly unhinged he feels about Eddie. Because surely Eddie would totally freak out if he knew.

Of course, Steve would often pay him nice compliments, normal ones, things like "you are so gorgeous, you know?", and that alone is enough for Eddie to turn a pretty shade of pink, hiding his grin behind a strand of hair or tucking it into his elbow briefly before saying, "oh shut up," grabbing Steve and kissing him senseless. Not really understanding how much Steve means it. How difficult it is to just look at Eddie a normal amount and not stare like a creep for hours, cataloguing every inch of that face in his brain.

But one day when they smoke up on Eddie's porch Steve gets a little too high, maybe it's the skipped dinner, or maybe he shouldn't have had that beer beforehand, but his self-control just flies right out of the window. To make matters worse, the setting sun hits Eddie's face just right, and Steve can't stop gawking at the literal nature's masterpiece that is his fucking boyfriend.

He leans closer, taking Eddie's face between his hands, just staring until Eddie, slightly concerned, asks him if he's alright. And the words just spill out of Steve. A little slurred, voice full of naked awe, eyes roaming over every inch of his boyfriend's face.

"So fucking beautiful. Like, what the hell, Eddie. Who allowed you to look like this? Do you even know what you're doing to me? Why are your eyes so big like that? For me to drown in them? And your lips. Holy shit, your lips, Eds. Just. Your whole fucking face, actually. What the fuck."

Eddie stares back in shock, progressively getting redder and redder, giggling madly and trying to duck and hide his face except Steve doesn't let him, squeezing his cheeks.

"Jesus, Stevie. You're high as a kite right now."

"Nah," Steve replies with a dopey smile. "I mean. Yeah. Totally." He grins. "But I always feel like that. Looking at you. Can't get enough. So pretty. Your eyes look like chocolate, you know? I kinda wanna lick them. To see if they taste like like chocolate."

"Sweetheart, I love you, but please don't lick my eyeballs."

"But I wanna," Steve pouts, turning Eddie into an absolute giggling mess.

"And they called me freak," he sighs, shaking his head and drawing Steve in for a kiss.

It makes Steve happy because Eddie's lips are his favorite candy. Although it makes him a little sad because he can't look at Eddie's face properly this up close. If Eddie notices that Steve's eyes are open throughout the kiss, he doesn't comment on it.

The kissing doesn't exactly shut Steve up, he keeps muttering utter nonsense whenever they come up for a breath. But judging by the enthusiasm with which Eddie keeps devouring his lips, his words do the opposite of freaking Eddie out.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Heyy me again so about the creepypasta thing, I just wondered if you can do Ben drowned with a gen z reader platonically? It's okay if your uncomfortable doing it ><

Ben drowned x gen z!reader (platonic!)

not uncomfortable at all! love that im getting ben drowned requests since i enjoy him a lot and kind of want to write for him more; just strictly platonic ..which reminds me, i need to draw him again soon! gonna answer this then take a break and get back to requests yipe!

admin is still sold on the idea of ben being confined to electronics most of the time so i can easily see him gaining access to your devices so he can pester you whenever he wants; though this may get a little annoying since youre... well still alive! you have a life

whether or not the reader is a creepypasta themselves or is a normal person is up to you! i think both can work, though i must say the idea of the reader being just some random person is really funny. like can you imagine? you get some haunted virus but the ghost is chill an you guys become friends

i do think ben can only mess with devices, i dont think he can mess with like. any internet browser stuff.... which segways me to my next idea; the og creepypasta came out in 2010, majoras mask came out in 2000, so putting it in the middle lets say ben died in 2005.. bro has missed a lot. youre going to have to fill him in on a lot of stuff, and boy let me tell you hes going to be going nuts

tell him about the new legend of zelda games. i think he would be hyped. throwing admins hc of ben being sick and tired of LOZ due to being trapped in the game out the window, admin needs this boy to get joyous!

he probably pesters you and asks you about the dumbest shit, does it on purpose because he thinks its funny

sometimes you guys play video games together, bro is absolutely astounded by how far games have come since he passed away. i think he would go insane over five nights at freddys. fill him in on the lore

going back on the video game stuff and playing together, just know that hes going to break the game and cheat + hes a sore loser, soooooooo...

do you think sometimes he comes and tries to spend time with you more and more over time because hes been stuck for years and hasnt really had many people to talk to? like yeah hes an angry spirit, but even angry spirits deserve friends!!!

ponders

probably messes with you by messing with your recordings if youre trying to make a video/tiktok/reel/what have you

probably interjects his own texts into your posts, never really says anything harmful, just messes with spelling or adds dumb messages

honestly its not your SM account/blog, its yalls shared account/blog now/j

stuck with old 2000s humor but i think he would absolutely love present day humor and how unhinged its gotten, though quick warning hes going to start quoting stuff

definitely quotes the sticking out your gyatt thing, hes going to drive you insane with it and hes going to laugh at you

do not play roblox tycoons with him hes going to bully small children

you guys play a horror game together on roblox and you can hear him freaking out through the speakers (likely using an old device for him so youre not fighting for control over one device)

absolutely DEVASTED when you tell him club penguin shut down

just know hes punching the metaphorical wall

on the rare chance ben is able to pull himself into the real world for a brief period of time, you guys probably do the same stuff hes just physically there for a short time!

make him touch grass while hes out, bro hasnt touched grass in nearly 20 years. this isnt even a haha "hes chronically online" joke, he hasnt actually touched grass in years due to circumstances

closing this with a hit of angst that made me go :( but imagine that it starts out as you guys being around the same age (well... close enough, since ben doesnt age anymore due to being a ghost) but overtime, you obviously grow up and have less and less time for him and :(

like owie

"what happened to us? we used to be best friends?" audio but its you two SOBS AND CRIES

[gingeredmink]

Dreamers as tumblr users AU

Because my brain can and WILL go off the deep end off absolutely nothing

Mado posts a bunch of art and music with zero tags or description and is famous somehow, she's kinda seen as a cryptid.

Uro throws everything on one blog [anime gifs, recipes, goofy animal vids that she always tags as #THISISMEEEE, funky tunes, ect], she's amassed a large following due to unhinged text posts and drawings of cursed lil guys

Sabi has a gore/macabre horror blog, sometimes posts selfies in goth outfits that Uro reblogs and gushes over in the tags

Sou does gothic writing stuff, he's the kind that takes the writing prompt of the day sorta stuff and runs with it. Also gives long thought out advice when asked and is surprisingly chill. Uro posted a selfie with him once [his face was censored with a cat sticker] and people lost their mind

Tats/Lefia share a blog and sign their post with either ᘛ⁐ᕐᐷ or ⊹₊♚₊⊹ to show who's posting. It's overall really cute stuff but sometimes Tats posts a bunch of depressing shit out of the blue and freaks people out.

Muma and Sometsuki have really simple blogs full of bunnies with random aesthetic posts here and there. Sometsuki's has lo-fi with violin bgm

more random interactions under cut cause I don't wanna drop a tolkein novel of dreamer thoughts in tags.

The closest thing anyone's ever gotten to Mado speaking was when Uro asked if she likes cats and she replied with, "ↀᆺↀ"

People begged Uro to get Mado to say more and she always responds with absurd nonsense like, "I cannot force the Mado to speak, she offers her words as blessings and we should be thankful for when she graces us."

Sometimes Uro's a clown on Tat's post and Tats just responds with "ᘛ⁐ᕐᐷ ✂"

Sabi and Tats did a Silent Hill cosplay together one time [Sabi was Heather Mason, Tats was some little monster child]. People still get surprised every time Tats shows their horror fan side.

Sabi sometimes makes edits/art as covers for Sou's writing and vice versa

It's hilarious seeing Sou's more serious/somber posts get broken up by him responding to some nonsense from Uro like, "Every day I wonder what I did to deserve your acquaintanceship." [uro just replies with, "aw, you know you love me~"]

Muma somehow has a thing like shimeji set up on her blog so you can interact with the little bunnies on it.