#blood is sweeter than silence

[scribe-cas]

do... does anybody wanna be on my tag list..........

for book stuff... any takers.... I am writing a supernatural slasher comedy with slice of life and romance elements..

[foureyedentity]

OKAY SO i am going to make something very clear now

while my blog intro looks v serious i promise u i myself am not

So here’s my personal intro. :>

Hi, I’m S.C., author of this upcoming series. You can call me S.C., or you can call me Sera/Cas. Whichever you’re more comfortable with :>

I’ve been writing these books since I was 13 in a “professional” capacity- but I’ve had art and concepts for way longer than I can describe. These books are my babies, and I hope you’ll like my characters as much as I do.

I use all pronouns, he/they/she, and I’m mostly gonna use this blog as a place to infodump about the series, because I’ve got like. 5 followers here. Nobody’s gonna look this place up until after the books are published, so I figured it would be fun to have a little archive of old art and shitty memes created at three am and facts that no human being deserves to hear about my characters.

I’m such a horror geek, and I’ve been enraptured by the concept of psychology and the cycle of abuse for years. I’ve got a bit of a morbid fascination with darker topics, but I also like dance parties and costumes and screaming musical albums at the top of my lungs.

My goal here on writeblr is to meet other writers! I want to find people who like to write and read what I write and write things that I’d like to read.

I’m a sucker for monster/human romances, supernatural stories in general, murder mysteries centered around insane asylums, the concept of an afterlife and what happens in it, romances in general, and highly intelligent villains. Love ‘em. I fucking love villains in general, actually- along with exploring religious trauma and trauma in general.

If you have anything like this please god contact me (i will beta read)

Please do not be afraid to talk to me I’m literally just. A dork.

Anyways, i have no idea how to do a writeblr intro, so hopefully this is satisfactory

Welcome to my page!! :>

[gloomwitchwrites]

They overhear you telling the team how much you like them and want to have their babies.

ANON! The way I screamed when I first read this prompt. I love shit like this because o-m-g. I had so much fun writing our boys in this scenario. Thank you so much for sending it in!

While there are some sweeter moments, these all lean toward the steamy side but don't cross over fully into spice. But, each is left open enough that you can make up your own mind about what happens! (hehe).

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): mild language, suggestive themes, pregnancy, fluff, feelings

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish (wc: 651)

John is grinning like a bloody idiot. Has been for the last few days.

He’s caught your attention, and he’s downright smug about it. Every lingering glance and gentle upturn of your mouth has his skin singing with an intensity that can only be described as a tree burning from the inside out. He’s been after you for months, doing his best to gauge your interest in him.

He thinks he has an in because just yesterday, you touched him. Not a passing touch either but a firm grasp of his upper arm. A squeeze that shot heat straight to his toes and sent blood rushing quickly to an already throbbing need.

You looked him in the eye, brow all soft, mouth puckered slightly in the most gorgeous pout. John wanted to kiss you right then.

He turns the corner, heading into the training room, only to stop dead when he hears your voice. Pausing, he backtracks, pressing himself against the wall but leaning around the corner to listen in.

“Johnny’s been sweet on you,” comes Ghost’s voice. It’s slightly teasing, and John frowns slightly. Ghost would never overstep and steal you out from under him, but he would give him or even you a hard time.

“Has he?” you reply, and it’s breathy.

At this rate, his cheeks are gonna hurt for a week from how stupidly big his grin is.

“Don’t tell us you haven’t noticed,” laughs Gaz. “Soap’s been drooling all over the floor and himself.”

You remain silent, and John would give anything to know what you look like right now or what you’re thinking.

“Do you like him?” asks Ghost.

“What?” you exclaim.

“We won’t tell. Unless you want us to,” continues Gaz. “We can tell him to back off if—”

“No. I—” There is a stretch of silence. “I like him.”

When neither Gaz nor Ghost say anything, you keep talking. “I like him. I’m interested.”

“How interested?” asks Ghost, slowly.

“I’d have his babies if he asked,” you blurt so suddenly that it even takes John by surprise.

His grin momentarily slips away, and then it comes back, raging larger than before. He is going to bottle up those words and savor them. John runs his fingers through his hair, tugging on the tips slightly as he comes to a decision.

Pushing off from the wall, he barrels around the corner, making enough noise to not startle anyone. You and Gaz both jump but Ghost remains utterly still, a passive brick of a man. But his dark eyes swivel from you to John, and he sees Ghost’s amusement behind the balaclava.

John approaches you, and it takes every ounce of willpower to keep his grin from seeming too eager. “Price is looking for you.”

“Oh,” is all you say, moving in the direction John just emerged from. He waits until you pass him to start following, but before he can, he catches Gaz’s grin and Ghost’s gentle shake of his head.

When the two of you disappear around the corner, John reaches out, grabbing your arm. He tugs you against him, then shoves open a nearby door, hauling you inside.

“Johnny,” you protest as he shuts the two of you inside.

Leaning against the door, John crosses his arms over his chest. “Heard what you said.”

“Did you?” you counter, placing your hands on your hips.

“Aye.”

“And what did I say?”

“That you wanted to have my babies.” Your face heats and John has to bite back a groan. He surges forward, trapping you against the wall. “Is that the truth? Do you want me?”

You soften in his arms, and he cannot help himself. His arms snake around your middle only to lift you onto a nearby table.

“I want you,” you whisper.

John dips his head and you greet him with your mouth. “Then let’s get to it, love.”

John Price (wc: 420)

Price reclines in his office chair.

His mind is a mess. All thoughts of work are utterly gone. Finished. The only thing in his head is you and what you said this morning. The thing is, you don’t know that Price heard every word, that he listened as you confessed your feelings for him to the rest of the team.

Price is your superior, which means anything between the two of you cannot happen. At least, not while you’re under his command. The rest of the team said as much, and you reluctantly agreed, knowing that nothing could be done unless you or he moved out of the unit.

And Price won’t leave. Not because he wouldn’t do it for you, but because Laswell would have his head if he tried.

But the two of you can still talk. The two of you can still figure something out.

Yet it wasn’t just your interest in him that has Price’s head in knots. It’s what you said, almost absently, like you were speaking to the air and not the rest of the team.

I’d have his babies.

Fuck, he was gone when he heard that. Price walked away immediately and went to his office. Which is where he’s been the entire fucking day. When his phone rings, he refuses to answer. Everyone who has come knocking leaves when Price ignores them. He just needs to get his head on straight but he can only do that once he talks to you first.

Sighing, Price leans forward in his chair, resting his forearms on the table. A knock comes, and everything in him tenses.

He swallows. Turns his nerves to steel. "Come in."

When you enter, Price loses all thought. It isn't until the silence becomes awkward that Price clears his throat and stands. "Shut the door."

You do and then take a few more steps inside. Price isn't one for stepping around a conversation. He just needs to get this shit off his chest.

"Heard what you said this morning."

"You did?"

"I did."

You take a shaky breath. "And?"

"Did you mean it?"

'Every word," you say automatically.

Fuck. He's done for.

Price slowly sinks into his chair. He leans back casually, legs spread. Resting both hands on his thighs, Price runs them up and then back down. He taps the inside of one thigh in open invitation.

Your legs obediently move, and Price's chest tightens. As you straddle him, Price's hands come to rest on your waist.

"Show me."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick (wc: 309)

Kyle heard you wrong. He must have.

The words that just came out of your mouth simply aren’t true.

I want to have his babies.

He shakes his head, the middle of his brow furrowing slightly as he continues to listen. He hears Soap guffaw at your reply and then swear up a storm when you smack the back of his head.

“It’s not funny,” you snap.

“Oh, aye. But it is.”

“Cut her some slack, Johnny,” says Ghost teasingly. “Sergeant Garrick is a handsome man.”

You sigh in frustration. “You’re both terrible. I can’t tell you anything.”

“You just did.”

“Oh shove it, Soap,” you reply.

Kyle covers his mouth with his hand, smothering a laugh. You’ve always been feisty, and you don’t take shit from anyone, especially not from them. But this admission completely catches him off-guard.

He’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t interested. What first began as mutual respect grew into genuine friendship. Now it’s…this. Whatever this is.

But Kyle is a private person, and he’s not going to shove himself into this conversation. He’ll wait until you’re alone and the two of you can talk this out without an audience. From there, he will have the truth directly from your mouth.

And if he's being honest with himself, Kyle is fucking ace to the idea of you giving him a kid or two. Or three.

His mind swirls outward with images of what he’d do to put a baby inside you. Everything in him ramps up, burns hot until he’s aching.

“Sergeant.”

Kyle’s eyes snap open, and he momentarily sways as he rights himself.

“Captain,” he replies, clearing his throat.

Captain Price smirks and then squeezes his shoulder. “Must have been a hell of a daydream.” Price releases Kyle’s shoulder and continues on.

Privacy. Privacy with you.

That’s what Kyle needs.

Simon "Ghost" Riley (wc: 375)

Ghost is a patient man.

But right now, there is a fire beneath his skin.

It itches, radiating outward, even making his bones ache. This is not a wound. Not an injury. He didn’t take a hit. There is nothing physically wrong with him. Ghost is healthy. A solid brick wall of muscle and scars.

This impatient insistence comes from a carnal place. All the blood is rushing to a singular point, and Ghost is going fucking insane with how badly he needs to relieve it. The worst part about it is that you don’t even know. You have no idea what you’ve done, or what he heard.

I’d have his babies.

Ghost is entirely aware that the conversation you had with Soap and Gaz was private. He wasn’t meant to hear it. But he did. He did, and now he can’t stop thinking about all the things you said to them.

Which is why he’s lurking in the shadows, watching your every step, assessing when he should slide on up to you. Ghost needs you alone. He needs to talk but he also needs you in his lap.

So, when you turn the corner, Ghost slips into his namesake, grabbing you by the waist to haul you through the nearest door. Instinct kicks in, and you lash out, but Ghost is so much bigger than you, easily restraining all resistance.

"Stop moving."

"Simon."

His real name on your tongue is perfect. Pressing his face into your neck, he inhales, and you melt into him.

"What are you doing?" you ask softly.

"I heard the conversation you had with Johnny and Gaz today."

"Did you?"

"Is it true?"

Your face shifts slightly in his direction and Ghost draws back a bit. "Yes."

"Mean it?"

"Yes."

Slowly, Ghost removes his arms from around your waist. He gently guides you forward and then spins you around so that you're fully facing him. There is silence and then Ghost reaches for the front of his belt buckle. Your gaze immediately drops and then pops back up as undoes and then removes the belt with one hand.

"Willing to show me?" he asks.

Your lips part, and then you're touching him.

The fire beneath his skin becomes an inferno.

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[prael]

I challenge you to a 20 minute writing challenge.

20 mins to write something based on 1 item on your left, and the 1st idol on your Tumblr Dashboard.

First idol on my dashboard: IVE Rei. Object on my left: A glass of milk.

MILK

18+ IVE Naoi Rei x male reader smut Masterlist

Words: 1250

"Rei!" You slam closed the door of the refrigerator and make for the one into the living room. "Rei! When the milk is empty, you put the carton in the recycling!"

There she is, sitting on the couch, with a glass full of the stuff. She shrugs and says, "The empty carton is to remind us to buy milk."

"You mean it reminds me that I need to buy milk, because god knows you won't!" You run a hand through your hair, which is starting to go frizzy in the heat and the stress.

"I buy milk all the time!"

"Name one time."

Rei just blinks and stares, like the request is absolutely foreign to her. Her mouth slightly parted as she struggles to find an answer.

"That's what I thought, but sure, you just sit there with a glass full of the milk I bought."

Rei looks down, into the depths of the glass. "Oh."

"Oh?" You're throwing your arms in the air in defeat. "'Oh' is the best you can do, Rei?"

"You want this milk?" Rei throws you a dark, mischievous look. "Sure, you can have it." Then Rei tilts the glass towards herself, letting some it spill over her chest and into her cleavage. "Oops."

"The fuck is wrong with you?"

Rei just smiles that same smile and pours a little more onto her chest, splashing against her bare skin and then spilling into her white shirt. She starts to shift around uncomfortably. "It's really cold," she says, laughing as milk soaks her.

"You're insane."

"It tastes real good you know." She undoes the top two buttons and reveals her glistening skin beneath. "Taste it."

"I'm leaving, Rei." You roll your eyes and make for the bedroom. "You know we can't do this shit anymore. Make sure you clean up."

"Leaving, huh?" Rei giggles and pours some more milk—it soaks into her jeans now. "Guess I better enjoy myself."

"Whatever," you say as you start to walk past her.

"Mmmm, yup, that's the spot. Oh geez, I'm totally ruining the sofa, this is great. It's getting me so wet. So cold, aah..." Rei's soft little moans start to fill the room. "Mmm, shit, this feels nice." She doesn't even look up at you. She knows what she's doing.

But even knowing she's crazy doesn't stop your feet from stopping in the living room. It doesn't stop you from watching, as more and more milk drips down her exposed skin, or as her white shirt clings desperately to her breasts. Or when her nipples push up against the material, when they show through so clearly. Or as she squeezes herself gently through her shirt. Her legs start to tremble. "Oh my god, this is amazing."

Your blood flows in only one direction, and with your heartbeat pumping you can feel all the annoyance leave your head. You stare, and Rei giggles into her drink. The last little dribble falls into her lap. Her legs twitch as the chill goes up and down her body.

"I really, really need someone to clean me up," she says as if she's talking to herself, and not to you, her roommate.

A second passes in silence. The distant voices from the television are like faint static in your ears.

Then the scene fades out as you lose consciousness of your actions. Fades out into a series of rapid stills. Snapshots of time and memory and images, flashing before you: of you throwing your pants to the side, of pulling her shirt over her head, of licking a drip of milk running down her navel, of the way she calls you an idiot in-between heavy breaths. There's her bra on the floor, her hand on your head, pulling you closer to her breast.

Your face a mess, and the milk now a hint sweeter as it lingers on your taste buds. Your hands struggling to unfasten her pants, peeling the material off her soaked skin. Her panties, the lacy black pair with the red bow in the middle, soon to find her ankles. You're tasting more of her than the milk now. Some twisted combination of the two on your tongue, your mouth exploring every inch of her cunt. The taste of her driving you mad.

Everything gets so fast. Time rushing by, skipping seconds in a sequence, one scene bleeding to the next with nothing in between. Everything overlaid with an unbreaking daze. The point of your head buried in her, her arms above her head and clenching tightly on the back of the sofa, and your tongue ravishing her pussy.

Only Rei's voice grounds you from your delirium. "Right there," she cries out. "Right there, yeah, lick right there... I'm cumming for you."

But the experience is a rush—her voice in your head sounds tinny and distorted. It barely makes sense to you, your own mind floating just out of touch. Your nerves are buzzing, and your arousal burns like an unstoppable wildfire.

The room shifts. Not literally, but in your perception, your field of vision twisting and turning until Rei is suddenly on all fours before you, her naked back and ass pointing into the air. Your hands caress her perfect skin, smooth like satin. Each touch sends shockwaves through the surface. You grab her hips, firmly, pulling her toward yourself and closer to your dripping cock, ready to fill her. And in a fluid motion, you slide yourself into her. She squeaks in delight.

Now your focus tightens on each thrust, each motion of you plunging inside Rei. You pull on her hair, gently, as she pushes her hips backwards to meet you. You told yourself a hundred times that the last time would truly be the last time. A lie you keep telling yourself. No matter how much it happens, she always manages to crawl her way back under your skin and into your blood. She's a disease that refuses to end, the toxicity you keep coming back to for more.

Her voice breaks out in an uncontrollable series of moans. Loud, forceful, and totally in control as you rock your hips back and forth. She grips your hand on her hip. "Harder," she cries, "fuck me, please, fuck me as hard as you can."

The warmth of her drives you further and further into a well of pleasure so deep you can't see the bottom.

Her moans become frantic and excited. Your breaths become deep and ragged, and your pulse pounds in your eardrums as a sweat comes to the surface. You close in and kiss her back, tasting her fair skin again. As the pace builds, so too does the pressure well up inside you—a sharp heat inside, about to break loose.

"Harder," Rei screams, and bites her lip as you deliver, you feeling her shudder and collapse as if every bit of strength left her all at once. Her body responds involuntarily to your movements, jerking in time. As it does, it sparks a response inside you. You bury your head between her shoulders and squeeze her hips as you cum—delight ripples and flows throughout your body.

She screams and trembles and collapses onto the sofa, pulling you down after her. You rest your chest against her back and kiss her neck tenderly. You share your heaving breaths and hot, sticky sweat. The room spins. Rei pants and speaks not a word.

In your head you tell yourself, 'this is the last time.'

[dcandmarvelimagines]

sweeter than you ever knew. (pt. 2)

Series: pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 Pairing: Wade Wilson x Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: AFAB reader (uses she/her pronouns), 1st person POV, non-mutant Reader, Oral sex (f! recieving), vaginal fingering, overstimulation, Wade breaks his nose so a bit of blood, Wade is an absolute pervert Logan is too, voyeurism, Logan puts his cigar out on his hand, Logan is also very emotionally stunted but we'll work on that Author's note: Holy shit guys?? This blew up in a way I totally didn't expect. I seriously thought this would just be something I uploaded and would get like five notes. You guys have been so sweet! Thank you so much! I hope you like this next installment. Things take a bit of a turn at the end and in the next chapter, but fear not besties, we will make it out of this and to a happy ending I swear! ao3 Tags (if you would like to be included or removed, just let me know): @fallout-girl219 @xolosimp @o0aligoth0o

Early that Monday, I met with my supervisor. When I explained that I was becoming attached to Al’s roommates and it would most likely affect my working relationship, he just sighed. Apparently, Al had requested that I’m her only caretaker and said she would refuse anyone else. “So keep your head on straight around them. Don’t make me regret it.” 

When I walked into the apartment later that day, I knew Wade would make me fail. He instantly wrapped me in his arms, covering my face in slobbery kisses. But I was able to keep him at arm's length while I was on the clock for Al. He was allowed one kiss when I got there and nothing else. Despite his protests, he respected my boundaries. With Wade forced to behave, it allowed me to start talking to Logan more. There was some sort of tension between us that had eased. The crease between his eyebrows whenever he saw me had slowly faded. I saw him smile more often. He was surprisingly nice to be around once I got past his gruff exterior. I kept myself an open book, answering any questions he had, but he kept his life close to his chest. I didn’t expect him to spill his guts and I accepted the little crumbs he gave me. But sometimes he was broody and quiet, keeping his responses short, a distant look in his eyes. 

Nevertheless, it began to grow into something more. It started off small, little touches to the back, him forcing me to sit when I had been rearranging Al’s furniture. Then it was a gift of delicious chocolate when they came back from France and a home cooked meal when I was too busy to make it myself. I found his eyes tracing my body more often, lingering in certain places. He sometimes stood just a little too close to me while I did the dishes. He wore a shirt less often and I greedily drank in his body when I could. None of this escaped Wade’s notice. I knew he was scheming. 

It was a crisp autumn night when I climbed out on the fire escape to settle next to Logan. The cigar smoke was a comfort now, earthy and sweet. We sat in silence for a few moments. Sometimes that was enough for me, just to be in his presence, but not tonight. I shoved my chilly hands deep into the pockets of my jacket. I titled my head, watching his cheeks hollow around the cigar, the ash skittering across his forearm. He didn’t so much as flinch as the hot ash touched him. “Could I try?” I had tried smoking before but had just ended up coughing for a minute straight. He shook his head, watching a bike roll by. 

“Last thing you need is lung cancer.” I tentatively laid my head on his shoulder. He would still sometimes jerk away like I had burned him. This time, he allowed me to sink closer, our thighs pressed against each other. I could feel the heat of him sinking through my clothes.

“Mm, it smells good though.” He takes a long drag, letting the smoke linger in his lungs before letting it out in a puff. A long moment of silence passes. We’ve been slowly circling each other for weeks, all lingering touches and heavy glances. How would he react if I finally did something? Pull away? I knew he and Wade still slept together, Al complained about it enough that I couldn’t escape it. Wade and I hadn’t really gone beyond our kisses. Despite what he called himself on my phone, I didn’t want this to be a friends with benefits situation. He seemed to know that and hadn’t pushed for more. Wade made it very clear to the both of us that he has no qualms about sharing. If anything, I think he wants Logan and I to have sex more than he wants to have sex with me.

Steeling my resolve, I rest my chin on his shoulder. “Can I try a taste?” Logan glanced down at me, that crease reappearing between his eyebrows. 

“What?” His voice is dry, a touch on edge. I wanted to apologize for my flirting and run but I can’t allow myself to. My fingers trace the corner of his lip, the edge of his jaw. He turned just an inch closer to me and I’m able to take in his lined and handsome face. 

“Just one taste?” It comes out breathy, barely audible. But he hears it, he always does. There’s the faintest tick at the corner of his lips like he was going to smile. “I promise to be gentle,” now that got a smirk out of him. 

“You don’t scare me sweetheart,” his voice was a low rumble. 

“Then why haven’t you kissed me yet?” He pressed the still burning cigar onto his palm. The smell of burning flesh floated up to me and my nose twitched at it. “Why would you-“ but the words are cut off as his unburned palm cupped the back of my neck and dragged me closer, our lips pressing together. The kiss is chaste. My eyes fall shut, a surprised gasp leaving me. His beard scratches lightly at my face as we move our heads. But then he nudges my nose, tilting his head back. “No, please,” I whispered, chasing his lips. I felt his sigh ghost across my face before he cupped both cheeks and drew me back against his mouth. I moan against him, clutching at the front of his sweatshirt, wanting him closer, craving it. Then his lips are moving against mine. My hands slide into his hair and give the strands a tug. His mouth parts on a growl and I take the opportunity to lick my way in. I can taste the tang of whiskey, the sweetness of the cigar, a hint of mint. I want to crush myself against him, to feel his body against mine, to explore his skin. 

Just as I’m reaching under his sweatshirt, hungry for the feel of the torso that’s been haunting me, he withdraws. His breath still coasts across my face and my nose was full of the scent of him. My breath was ragged while his was perfectly even. Embarrassing. My eyes are slow to open. I found him only a few inches away, a smug expression on his handsome face.

“There,” he whispers, “got your taste.”

“Asshole.” Now he smiles, perfect teeth glinting in the streetlight. 

“Yeah, get that in your pretty head now.” His calloused fingers tapped at my temple. “I’m not someone to get attached to.” 

“Well she’s sticking around me and I’m about as much boyfriend material as sandpaper.” I jumped nearly out of my skin at the sound of Wade’s voice. Logan just smirked and circled his hands around my wrists, squeezed once to make me let go of his sweatshirt. I had half a mind to refuse, crawl into his lap and kiss every inch of skin I could find. But I let my hands fall weakly to my lap. “When you two fuck, can you record it? I’ve tried finding look-alikes on pornhub, but it’s just not the same.” I huffed, glancing down at where Wade’s head was, a spark of annoyance at him interrupting Logan and I. He’s half laying on the metal grate, his legs dangling off the couch beneath the window. 

“Ain’t gonna happen dickwad.” I can hear Logan’s lighter flicking before the smell of the cigar is back. I hoped he had just meant recording and that gruff tone wasn’t for the idea of us having sex. But he let me remain close so I took that as a good sign. 

“Don’t listen to him, baby bunny. Look, he literally tried killing me and we ended up fucking in the end.” 

“Was still trying to kill you,” Logan growls. Wade gasps dramatically, clutching his chest like Logan actually succeeded.

“Don’t lie peanut! What’s more romantic than stabbing me in the neck? That Honda Odyssey was shaking all night.” 

“I hope that’s not how you plan on being romantic with me,” I laughed, reaching down to tug at Wade’s cheek. “I can’t snap back like you two.” 

“Of course not darling,” he covered my hand in sloppy kisses, sucking a hickey on my wrist. “I’ll let you stab me in the neck while you fuck me. Would never want to hurt that sexy face.” 

“Ugh, get a room you two,” Logan snapped, nudging my knee with his. I glanced back at him but found his face reserved again. As much as I wanted to linger and force my time on Logan, I knew he wouldn’t appreciate it.

“We should take Mary Puppins out, yeah?” Wade nodded, wiggling free of his awkward position. The decrepit dog came bounding around the corner. She wiggled her naked butt as Wade grabbed her leash. I looked back at Logan. He was determinately ignoring me, eyes locked onto the dark apartment across the way. “I’ll probably head home once that’s done.” He nodded and brought the cigar back to his lips. “Why did you put it out on your hand?”

“Didn’t want to drop it on you. It’s a nasty burn.” There was something fleeting and tender that passed over his averted face. A little smile spread across my face. 

“Thank you, you’re my hero.” I pressed a kiss to his stubbly cheek, lingering just a beat too long, before I pulled away. “Goodnight Logan.” I didn’t wait for his reply, if he even intended to give one. 

Wade was happy with the progress me and Logan had made. 

But it wasn’t fast enough. 

Which is how I found myself locked in their shared cramped bathroom, Wade’s head buried between my legs, while two of his fingers plunged inside me. My legs were shaking, my heel pressed against his shoulder to spread me open more. “Wade,” I whimpered as tears pricked my eyes. He had already drawn one orgasm from me with his rough and agile fingers before he dropped to his knees. “I c-can’t.” 

“I know you can honey bun.” His breath was hot against my tender skin and I gasped. “Just one more for me, yeah?” I nodded, hips grinding against him. “There you go. You’re close again aren’t you?” I nodded again, eyes rolling back. He kitten licked across my overly sensitive clit. I knew I was making a mess of his face but he seemed to revel in it. He left a trail of sticky kisses along my bruised and bitten thigh. “Do you hear yourself? Got that WAP.” I smacked his head before pushing him deeper to keep him from running his mouth more. He latched back onto my clit, sucking harshly, and a third finger wedged into me. My back arched and I had to bite my lip hard to stay quiet. My eyes fell closed. His spare hand moved from my hip where it had been holding me. 

The sudden sound of the door opening made me freeze. Al had laid down for a nap which was the only reason I allowed Wade to drag me in here. But instead I found Logan framed in the doorway. He had the look of a deer in headlights. “Now peanut,” Wade cooed, his head laid against my thigh. to look at the other man. He didn’t stop fingering me, the squelching sounds suddenly too loud. “Don’t you know it’s rude to eavesdrop.” 

“I wasn’t, you two are too fucking loud.” Logan’s nostrils were flared, heaving chest straining against his thin tank top. 

“Uh huh,” Wade teased, his tongue swirling around my clit. My hand clamped over my mouth as a sob caught in my chest. “That massive tent in your pants has nothing to do with you hovering.” Logan growled, palming at himself, seemingly angry at his body. “Come on handsome, look at her.” Wade pushed my thighs farther apart, his free hand spreading me. 

“Oh god,” I mumbled, embarrassment making me cover my face. I couldn’t hear Logan’s steps, he was always so light on his feet, but I could feel him examining me. The hairs at the back of my neck stood on end. 

“Don’t hide from us gorgeous,” Wade chides. “Logan Ioves to watch orgasm faces. I can feel you fluttering, I know you're close.” When I don’t remove my hands, Wade sighs, the exhale of air making my hips jerk. “Come on, you can be brave for us.” I take a shaky breath and remove my hands, curling them around the edge of the counter. Wade smiled while Logan’s dialated eyes were glued to my pussy. I watched his Adam's apple bob and he shifted from one foot to the other. “Good job,” he kissed my clit, popping obscenely. “Now make a mess on my face.”

He dove back between my legs. With Logan there, Wade seemed determined to force me to come as hard and as fast as he could. His fingers drove into me with firm thrusts, tongue flicking cruelly at my clit. My leg was trembling so much it slipped from Wade’s shoulder, only to be caught by Logan. I struggled to focus on him, my vision blurry from prickling tears of overstimulation. His calloused palm traced up my ankle and calf before notching behind my knee. With my pussy covered by Wade’s head, Logan could only look at my face. I wanted him closer, to feel his mouth against mine again, that scrape of his beard. His eyes fastened to my neck, watching my erratic pulse. 

“Logan,” my voice tilts up at the end, hands reaching for him. Before I was able to even breathe, just as the orgasm was rushing through me, Logan’s lips crashed against mine. I clung to him, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and locking both of my shuddering legs around his waist, moaning wildly into his mouth. Wade groaned as his head was pinned between our hips and the vibrations made me cry out. Logan was kissing me like a man starved, biting at my lips, grunting like he was the one coming. A combination of our spit collected at the corner of my mouth and he licked at it hungrily. His blunt nails dug into the tender skin behind my knees as he clutched me closer. Tears streaked down my cheeks as Wade kept working me into near painful overstimulation. 

Logan separated first, his forehead pressed to mine. My breath was ragged, sweat collecting along my hairline. I wanted more, to lose myself between their touches, their bodies. Wade finally stilled, his fingers still buried deep. His mouth released me and I gasped as his harsh breaths coasted across me. “You okay down there?” My voice shook. I reached down and ran my nails across his scalp. 

“Broke my nose, but it’s okay.” I bolted up straight and Logan stumbled back to avoid my head cracking against his. Blood and my slick was smeared across his face, staining his white teeth as he beamed up at me. The tip of his nose was bent at an odd angle. 

“I’m so sorry,” I cupped his face, panic rushing through me. “Are you okay?” 

“He’s fine,” Logan said. One of his big hands braced on Wade’s head before he grabbed the broken nose with two fingers. With a pop and a grunt from Wade, the nose slid back into place. “There,” he tapped Wade’s sticky face, “good as new.” 

“You’re always so nice to me,” Wade grumbled, itching the rapidly healing bump. His drenched fingers slid from me, glistening in the harsh bathroom light. Logan glanced between Wade and I, one finger twirling in the drawstring of his black sweatpants. I wish I could read his mind, be able to tell his emotions from one glance, or a touch. I wanted to understand this unsure look on his face. He almost seemed nervous to be in here now that the haze of lust had passed. He swallowed thickly before he pressed a kiss to my cheek. 

“See you tomorrow sweetheart.” My arms, which were about to latch around his neck to keep him close, hung limply in the air. I blinked as he walked away, disappearing into their dark bedroom. Wade shook his head as he stood and closed the bathroom door. 

“Did I do something?” I whispered, knowing Logan would hear me anyway. Wade’s hands went to my thighs, kneading at the tight muscles, leaving behind wet handprints with his right one. 

“No, he’s just a fucking idiot who doesn’t think he deserves happiness. I’ve been trying to ease him into this but he’s stubborn.” He turned his head, “and he’s stupid!” I heard their bedroom door snap shut. “He’s worried he’ll scare you off. Just give him time. He’s just…just had a lot happen to him.” I nodded. “Don’t take it personally, okay?” 

“Okay,” I mumbled. 

“Are you two done in there?!” A cane hit the door. “She needs to read me my mail!” 

Never more in my life have I wanted the floor to swallow me whole. Only compounded by Wade wiping the door open, cocking his hip to glare at his roommate. I knew she was blind, that she had completely lost vision almost twenty years ago. But that didn’t stop me from stretching my shirt down to try and cover myself, crossing my legs. “I see Miss sleepy granny pants is awake. What do you need? A diaper change?” Al scoffed, her cane clicking along the floorboards of the hallway as she moved to the kitchen. Once she was out of our sight, Wade plucked my panties from the floor. 

“Why?” He shrugged, an evil glint in his eyes. 

“Maybe I need to get him used to your scent, like a dog.” I rolled my eyes but bit back a hiss as he dragged the coarse material through my wet folds. “Need a lot of it I think, yeah, nice and soaked.” I shoved his hand away and he tucked my panties into his pocket. Wade helped me off the counter, his hands braced on my waist to keep me steady. My jeans had been tossed carelessly to the side and I dreaded putting them back on without the barrier of my underwear. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you wear those pesky jeans, even if they do make your ass look so good I want to rip them off you every time you wear them.” He passed through the bathroom and into his and Logan’s room. I peeked around the edge of the door frame and nearly fainted at the sight. 

Logan was splayed across their dark sheets, body bare, hard cock in his hand. While the room was dim, the beams of light from the hallway were able to reach in. The shadows played over his muscles and I watched as they flexed. I wasn’t able to see his cock well, both his hand and the poor lighting limited my vision. But I was able to see a long, thick vein along the underside. My face heated at the sight of him. “Knock, asshole,” his voice was husky. The sound of him made my toes curl. If I hadn’t just had a mind melting orgasm, I would have been striding into that room, ready to do anything he wanted me to. His stomach fluttered as his strokes became more rapid. 

“Here,” Wade said as he tossed my drenched panties on Logan’s face. His hips jerked, knuckles flashing white around himself. Wade searched through a drawer before pulling something from inside. “Now be good and keep those right there for when I come back.” Logan growled, removing the fabric from his face but kept it clutched in his fist. Wade blew him a kiss and a wave before closing the door again. He offered me a pair of sweatpants. I tugged them on with a mumbled thank you, having to roll the waistband down multiple times so I wasn’t swimming in them. Wade pinched my chin and our eyes locked. “I’ll get him to warm up, promise.” I nodded. “Now go take care of Miss Migoo. Remember to text me when you get home.” 

“Of course,” I stood on my toes to kiss his healed nose. “I’m sorry about that.” 

“Don’t worry babykins. If it makes you feel better, I was near suffocation. So a busted nose was the best case scenario.” He laughed at my horrified expression. “Hey, I’d much rather die from pussy smothering than my heart being ripped out.” 

“You know, that doesn’t make me feel much better.” He smirked and drew me closer, his lips connecting with mine. I could taste the tang of me coating him. But I pulled back first. I needed to keep my head on straight for the last hour of my time with Al. “Keep it down with him, please? It’ll be too distracting.” His expression turned wicked. 

“Trust me, I have a way I’ll shut him up.” His hands coasted down my hips, grabbing a handful of my ass. “I’ll send pictures of what happens to your cute little panties once we’re done with them.” My face flushed and I pressed my hands to his chest. 

“God, you’re such a pervert.” 

“Mhm, you like it though.” 

“Will you two stop! My vision isn’t coming back anytime soon.” We reluctantly broke apart. Wade slipped into the bedroom. I was only able to catch a brief glimpse of Logan’s back arched, heels dug deep into the mattress, before my sight was cut off. I grabbed my discarded jeans and stuffed them into the tote bag I had brought with me. The last bit of my shift ended in mostly silence, minus the occasional creak of the bed frame from the guy’s bedroom. I helped Al sign a few checks, read through her mail, and took out Mary Puppins. I said my good night and left the apartment. My mind conjured up thoughts on what could be happening behind that closed door all the way home on the train. Wade, clad only in my stolen underwear, bouncing on Logan. My panties stuffed into Logan’s mouth as Wade pounds him from behind. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop my imagination from getting too wild. It wouldn’t help anything to get turned on now. 

If my mind hadn’t been so filled with dirty thoughts, I would have noticed the man watching me from the other end of the train car.  

I made it to my apartment. The key fob scanner was broken again. “Advanced security my ass,” I groaned, trudging up to my apartment. It was Friday and I felt like ordering something in. I knew I shouldn’t, the delivery fees were astronomical, but I just wanted to relax. After placing my pizza order, I grabbed a fresh pair of underwear and a shirt stolen from Logan by Wade, then gifted to me. It always felt illegal to wear it, but it was easily the softest shirt I had. His scent lingered on it and it always soothed me. I had around an hour before my pizza was going to arrive. I made a little nest for myself on the couch and tucked in to watch some mindless reality tv. 

A knock woke me up. At first I was confused, rubbing at my eyes and looking around to locate the sound. Then my mind caught up. “Oh shit,” I mumbled, scrambling to the door as the poor delivery guy knocked again. “Sorry! Sorry!” I called. I unlocked the door and swung it open. 

I froze. 

A man, with no pizza box, stood before me. “Um, can I help you?” The man had ice chips for eyes, cold and lifeless. A tattoo peaked above his collar. He took me in, tracing each inch of me. I felt my skin break out in goosebumps at the cold calculation on his face. My arms curled over my chest, hiding it from him. “Can I help you?” My tone was stronger, a small snap to it. That horrible gaze found mine again. Then he said my full name. Fear oozed through me. 

I heard something from my bedroom, a little thump, but was too terrified to look away from the man in front of me. “Get the fuck out of here,” but the words lacked conviction, a slight tremble to them. “I don’t know who you are. Leave or I’m calling the cops.” 

“Why wouldn’t you call your boyfriends?” My heart stuttered in my chest. 

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” I heard the creak of my floorboard. I cast a wild glance behind me and found a wall of a man emerging from my bedroom. I went to scream but the man at my door latched his hand around my mouth. I kicked and thrashed, biting wildly. He didn’t react. There was a pinch in my neck. 

My elbows tried to find his face, but he was able to easily deflect them. The man in my apartment was searching for something. My eyes were blurring, limbs turned to lead. I saw him hold my phone up. 

Then I slumped to the ground.

[lunerabo]

grape juice

cw: sub!Choso, dom!vampire!AFAB!Reader, neck biting, blood drinking, vampire typical behaviors, slight dub-con if you squint, handjob, pet names (‘baby boy’, ‘sweet thing’), p in v, riding, dacryphilia, Choso passes out

You think you’re awake.

It’s not the usual time you leave, far earlier than that. The sun is nowhere near showing itself. It’s not like you to wake before then.

Your nighttime companion slumbers beside you, bare and spent from the fun you had just hours ago. You recall with fondness feeding him fruit from a decorative bowl on your nightstand and tasting it on his tongue when you kissed him. The smell of the candles tucked away in the corners of the room has outlasted the smell of sex.

Your head swims, but unlike how it did earlier, this is far less pleasant. Your vision, superb as it is in the blackness of the room, darkens the blues and greys of the scene before you, blurry around the edges, fading in and out. Your gut twists and growls.

Why now? You weren’t hungry earlier. Sure, it had been some time since you’d fed, but you hadn’t really felt it yet. You thought he was safe tonight. But your pain and fatigue are very real, and there’s no guarantee you’ll find easy prey once you leave. Choso is a lot of fun—as delicious as you’re sure he is in there, you don’t want to go and ruin it by draining him. Your time with him is already temporary.

You drink in the sight of him in the hopes of staying your hunger, battling it with thoughts of your affections, of what you don’t want to see lost.

A mop of black hair. Tired eyes. The distinct mark of a little black horizon across his nose. He’s just so pretty, it makes your mouth water.

You take a grape, fat and ripe, between your fingers. There are plenty more to take from the bowl, but they won’t sate your hunger. You don’t know why you try.

The line between mate and prey blurs before your very eyes, and you do your best to shake that image from your mind. Yet still you stare as he shifts in his sleep, fingers twitching, nose wrinkling. He breathes a little heavier than before, and the thump of his rabbiting heart and the rush of his blood just beneath the bared skin of his neck has you in a haze. Perhaps he knows he is no longer safe. Perhaps he senses the danger he’s in, but has yet to wake.

The fruit is firm between your lips, a promise of a generous reward if you just bite.

Your lover stirs, pulse racing in his warm chest, and you watch, mesmerized.

The skin taut, the flesh swollen.

It takes merely a slow push of your teeth into it to make it burst on your tongue, its nectar rich and plentiful and far sweeter than you remember fruit being. Hunger does have a way of doing that.

Your beloved cries out, eyes wide, and your chin is stained with blood.

You glance at your fingertips, and the half of the fruit you could swear you were holding a second ago has disappeared. Blood paints the place where it sat. Choso’s blood. You reach for words, but find none to grab at.

His breathing shakes, and he nearly leaps out of his skin when you move.

“I didn’t mean to.”

He swallows, and holds his hand to his wound.

“What was that?”

Another period of involuntary silence. You turn on the small nightstand lamp and hesitate to look back at him, licking across the teeth whose purpose now becomes apparent to him. The realization of what exactly it is he’s been sleeping with dawns on him, but he doesn’t show it much.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! I’m… I’m just so hungry.”

“Are you going to eat me?” He asks, and his voice is so small, like a little mouse you could frighten away with just a blink. He doesn’t know what a vampire is, you realize. One thing he senses for certain is that you are a predator, and he, very very vulnerable prey. Why you haven’t gotten on with feasting on his flesh with his innards torn out and strewn across the bed is a mystery to him.

“No, I’m not going to eat you. I need blood, I just… I can’t… wait. I can’t wait until I find someone else. My meal isn’t guaranteed if I leave.”

“How many people have you killed?”

“What? I’ve never killed anyone.”

“How can I trust you?”

“I didn’t kill you.”

He at last rises to his knees before you, understandably still apprehensive and flighty. He glances down to find himself a little hard, too, and he’s not sure why, when this is not a situation he’d ever find sexual. He’s never feared for himself quite like this. Did you do that? What is this? Does he have to worry about you hurting him there?

You notice, and he seems to shrink back into himself a little.

“You’re human. That happens sometimes. You’re just scared.”

Human, he reminds himself. He wasn’t aware of the fact that, apparently, that means being prey. For monsters like you.

Tentatively, making sure he knows where you’re moving, you reach for him. Not for his throat, not for his cock, and not for the racing heart that your hunger yearns to rip from his chest—but for his hand, which you place your own over as he trembles.

“I won’t hurt you again. Not without your say-so.”

His wide eyes search yours, as if picking through your thoughts to find a scrap of a lie. Could you really have the self control to stop yourself from draining him dry? And if you did, how would that affect him? How much would you take? What does he risk? But through the myriad of uncertainties that flood his mind, one truth stands out to him, catching his attention; you don’t want to harm him, not really. He doesn’t know what to call it, but it’s a feeling, some small but impossibly strong tug of what he has every reason to believe is delusion imploring him to trust that there really is something more you feel for him beyond base hunger. If you were as much of an animal as he believed, he would have been made your livestock long ago.

“Do I risk dying if I let you?” He breathes, cautious. He really does love you, and he doesn’t want to force you away. Perhaps if he offers that olive branch, even if he’s not entirely certain he wants to, he may not have to let you go.

“… the more I drink, the easier it’ll be to stop myself. I can do that. I don’t need much.”

It’s a little off putting. It may not have been a simple yes or no, but nothing in that statement implied that he would in fact die, and that’s all he needs, really.

“You can, um. If you can’t live without it, and you won’t kill me, you can… have some.”

He’s not sure why he’s doing this. He quivers, but there’s an underlying feeling of delight in his fear. Excitement. Anticipation. Gentle hands reassure him, fingers creeping up his nape and tilting his head as you lean in, wordless and practically drooling on him.

It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the first time. The wound weeps as you close your lips around it, teeth only barely grazing the skin. There is no need to bite again. Warm and coppery, it floods your mouth, and his body reflexively shies away from the dull, throbbing ache blooming in his neck. Tears threaten to fall but his cock jumps, desperate for attention, and yet you deprive him of it. You won’t make a move until he tells you to, but doing that is far too embarrassing. But between the hand in his hair, the sucking at his neck, and the rhythmic, languid, almost erotic dips of your head as you enjoy your midnight meal, he fears he may say it involuntarily. He can’t blame you for the state he’s in, for he clearly tastes good. That, and the fact that he could’ve tasted like bile for all you cared, and you would have enjoyed it purely for sating your hunger.

But you detach yourself at last, licking over the now much more obvious mark, kissing at his jaw in silent apology. You think he understands. He bucks his hips, grabbing at your wrist, and pulling it insistently between his legs. He can’t take it anymore.

“Okay, easy, easy. I’ll take care of it for you.” Your palm smears the pre already pearling at his tip, and the featherlight touch alone elicits a brief, sharp wail. He’s so impossibly aroused, and the abrupt manner in which he turns to mush under your touch has you soaked. He would let you do anything to him when he’s in this state, you’re sure. That’s a dangerous place to be, with you.

“Did my bite make you all sensitive, baby?” You ask him, and sleepy eyes meet yours in confirmation.

His hips stutter and buck into your hand, but he doesn’t try to stop them. He always seems to lose his mind fast, but this is something different. This is something new.

“Can I sit on you? Can I make you cum for me, baby boy?” You ask, and he whines loudly as an affirmative. “Oh, come here.”

You let him taste his own blood on your teeth and tongue, and you can feel in your palm the way he shivers in confused delight. He leaks and pulses in your grip, and his breath becomes shallow and quick, like he’s crying.

Swinging your leg over his waist, you prop yourself up on his chest with your elbow, and he ruts against you, mind driven into messy knots. He nearly goes limp when you do sit on him, rolling your hips over him just enough to make him a little louder for you. He chews his lip, as if that might do much to quiet his noise, and it’s so precious, so adorable, that you simply can’t help yourself.

“Mhh- you said you wouldn’t drink that much.”

“I know what I said, I’m sorry. Just give me a little more.”

And without apprehension, he yields his throat to you as you feed.

A sleepy, numb, almost sick feeling spreads within him, and his vision becomes blurry and black around the edges, and the walls and ceiling swim around him as his rutting against you slows. He struggles to stay awake under you. He shakes violently to keep conscious, willing his hands to move to their favorite place on your hips, but it takes far more effort than anticipated.

The mark you leave is purple and bloody, but no longer leaking. Blunt fingers claw at your back and you know he nears his end, thighs twitching and jerking and chest rising and falling in a series of brief and shallow gasps. It feels too good to have any hope of backing down from that precipice, too far gone already, the only choice to let go and plummet.

And he does—deep inside you, wailing and hiccuping as he does, and you rub furiously at yourself to join him. His crying sends you over the edge, and he yelps once more as you squeeze him. His breath is hot on your shoulder as you descend and bury your head in his neck.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I won’t take that much again. You did so well, and you taste so good…”

Your tongue lashes out at his wound again, but you don’t drink anymore. His hand creeps up into your hair, tangling fingers into it, forearm laid flat across your bare back. He’s unresponsive after that.

“Choso?”

He’s already unconscious. No doubt largely from the loss of fluids, but the rigorous activity certainly didn’t help. His chest still heaves and his heart still races, but there’s no mistaking it. His eyes don’t move under his eyelids, his brow is relaxed, and his arm sits limp and nearly lifeless on your back. You’ll help him get cleaned up in a couple of hours when the sun rises, you figure.

Though you aren’t looking forward to the complaints about the soreness in his neck.

[ennabear]

vampire!ellie

synopsis: you met ellie in your university’s ancient library, you were just trying to study and ellie couldn’t help but talk to you. it drove her crazy, the scent of your blood. usually, she didn’t even notice the scent on others. she was so used to it that it didn’t bother her anymore. but you were different, sweeter.

cw: kinda like a mix between tlou and twilight, mentions of witchcraft and hanging, vampire!abby being a ladykiller literally, papa vampire!joel, mama vampire!tess, newlyweds vampire!jesse and dina, dina’s transformation, lotsssss of backstory like i seriously couldn’t stop myself from yapping. not proofread sorry :((((((

a/n: i’m definitely gonna make a series out of this. sorry if this is wayyy too long but i have a special place in my heart for vamp!ellie and her sweet vampire family. ok that’s all ily thanks for reading.

wc: 2.2k

you shouldn’t be walking alone at night, really. campus was a sketchy place. a plethora of bad things could happen. you could get kidnapped, jumped, pickpocketed, or, hell, even bitten by a vampire.

the library had the same scent it always did. it smelled like dust and paper. in all honesty, you didn’t prefer it here. although it was beautiful, tall windows lined with stained glass, large bookshelves with every book you’d ever want, every word you could imagine and more, it was just so eerie. something bad was bound to happen here.

anyways, you settled down at the table in the corner. the one farthest away from anyone else. you’d rather be at home right now, studying in bed. it’s only because your roommate invited her stupid boyfriend over that you ended up here. it’s for the better anyway, though, because in bed you wouldn’t get anything done. you’d be too distracted.

you had your priorities written on your palm, the pen now smudged, making it barely readable. writing on your palm was easier, more convenient than a post-it note. but you wrote it down on paper anyways, incase you sweated more of it off before you finished. it wasn’t likely you would, though. the library was freezing, especially in the winter.

the clack of your fingers typing in your laptop password was the only thing to be heard. everyone else was dead silent. this was probably the only thing you liked about the library, everybody agreed on an unspoken rule, make the least amount of noise possible. you got started with completing your essay after shuffling your playlist, determined to finish by the end of the night.

that’s when she saw you.

or, smelled you? your scent was so strong, it hit ellie hard. her vision went dark and splotchy, and she had to grip onto the table for support. her pearly white hands making a dent in the table with how hard she was holding.

you had to be her next meal. she had to find some way to get you alone and suck your veins dry. it scared her, the thoughts she was having. her intentions weren’t to murder you, but she was starving now. you had unknowingly gotten her high on your scent.

she didn’t even know where you were. were you outside? down the hall? in the library? fuck, right next to her? her head was hurting now, really, really badly. but she needed you even worse.

picking up a random book, she used the most brainpower she could to sniff you out. then, she really saw you. headphones in your ears, your hands typing away at something that won’t even matter soon. soon, she’ll have your body in her arms, hopefully in the comfort of her own home. your neck dripping a puddle on the floor as she relentlessly drank from you, your skin growing cold and your lips turning purple.

her docs made silent footsteps across the floor as she walked toward you. this was something ellie learned to master, silence. especially when she went into hunting mode. nobody looked at her as she expertly dodged the creaks in the old wooden floor. nobody saw her coming. especially you. you never saw ellie williams coming.

“hey, is it okay if i sit here?”

“….sorry, what was that?” you scrambled to pause your music.

“can i sit here?”

“oh. yeah, sure. go ahead.”

you went back to typing, not continuing your music incase she wanted to talk. you really hoped she didn’t. you needed to finish your essay. and you weren’t much of a people person either.

“what are you writing?” she asked.

“just an essay, nothing interesting.”

“oh, cool.”

she started reading the book she picked up before sniffing you out. she didn’t bother to look at the title. or read any of the words either. really, she was just staring at it, her mind racing. she needed to come up with something interesting, something to make you like her.

while she stared at the words, you couldn’t help but stare at her. your fingers came to a complete stop as you admired this stranger across from you. she didn’t even introduce herself, how strange. her hair was a dark brown, her eyes black. her face was incredibly smooth. skin paler than ever, she looked as if she was a marble statue, like she belonged in a museum.

and she was reading twilight, of all books. although, you liked the book, it seemed ironic for her, like she was too mature for it. this beautiful stranger was sitting across from you, her eyebrows pulled together in frustration while she chewed on the inside of her cheek. she seemed furious at something, but at the same time, hard to read.

you were almost scared of her, but intrigued above all else.

“do you like that book?” you asked.

“twilight? yeah. it’s okay. i’ve read it a few times.”

“hmm. it’s a classic.”

“it’s not bad. but i’ve read a lot of books. this one doesn’t come close to the others.”

“so you read a lot? how come i’ve never seen you before?”

“i’m usually hiding. i don’t prefer to engage with others if i can help it.”

“yeah, that explains it.”

she got lucky. thank god, if there even is one, that she grabbed a book you knew about. that you started a conversation with her. she thought it was the most stupid book on earth. it was filth, pure mormon fanfiction. and it was completely wrong.

“why are you here so late? it’s almost midnight.” you asked.

“i could ask you the same question.” she responded.

“i have a lot of work i’ve been procrastinating on. if i could choose, i’d be at home. but my roommate’s boyfriend is there and i can’t stand being in the same building as them.”

“i don’t really know why i’m here. i just like to meet new people i guess.”

“i thought you didn’t like talking to people.”

“that’s different. you’re different.”

“how so? you don’t know who i am, and i don’t even know your name.”

she stared at you blankly. you had her trapped. she suddenly realized that maybe you were harder to get than she expected. maybe you wanted to play this game.

“i’m ellie. it’s short for elizabeth but i hate that name. it’s too common, i’m sick of hearing it.”

“elizabeth is beautiful.”

“thanks. you sound like my parents.”

lie. she didn’t know her parents anymore. they had abandoned her hundreds of years ago after suspecting she was a witch because she refused to get married to a man at only seventeen. after a few years, she was hung.

it wasn’t until her new father, joel, took up an investigation of what happened to poor elizabeth. he ended up traveling to their old village and finding her grave after tracing her obituary back to a newspaper published in 1579.

shed been dead for years. joel was the one who brought her back to life. he injected his venom into her long rotten arms and took her in for the seven years it took for her to come back fully. he saved her. he taught her how to walk, how to speak, how to hunt. joel miller was her new father.

joel used to be a police officer. in 1712, he ran into a poor woman, bleeding and begging for his help. claiming that her husband had turned to satan and was now possessed. the woman had been bitten, she eventually would turn into ellie’s mother, tess. joel got bitten too. all three of them spent the next years as newborns in that small cabin, feasting on whoever was unfortunate enough to wander by.

the woman’s husband didn’t survive. he was caught by a clan of christians and burned alive, leaving just joel and tess, who couldn’t help but fall in love. they adopted more kids before and after ellie too.

abigail was the first. she was living alone in the appalachian mountains, feasting on whoever wandered after sundown. leading poor girls, desperate for a good time, into her bed and then eating them whole. abigail often hung out at lesbian bars. the girls who went home with her never came back. a bartender joked with her about this once, the bartender didn’t come back, either.

joel heard about abigail through the only other coven that lived in washington. they said she was a monster, a relentless murderer trapped in a goddesses body. that she could hold the whole world on her shoulders but couldn’t refrain from eating innocent girls who were cheating on their husbands.

abby and ellie were never really good friends, but they tried. abby preferred to keep to herself. usually either reading or climbing a mountain with her bare hands. and she refused to find a long-term lover. ellie was almost the opposite. she preferred more modern things, like making music and fast cars. and she loved to flirt with girls.

jesse came after ellie. he was born more recently, in 1878. he was dying of a disease nobody knew about. they didn’t have the right knowledge or technology to save him, so they quarantined him in a hospital room until he died. he didn’t, though. joel saved his life. the hospital staff were horrified after seeing the blood stained floor, the splatters over the walls, and more importantly, the fact that jesse’s body was nowhere to be found.

jesse had a wife now, named dina. she met him in 1983 at a prestigious fashion school. jesse had already been to tons of colleges. neither of them aged. they never changed. they were all trapped. after studying medicine, law, physics, engineering, and marketing, he wanted a change.

that’s when he met dina. she was a beautiful woman, deep tan skin, dark eyes, long black hair and eyelashes. and she had such a knack for fashion. jesse was in love, it took him a long while before he came clean to dina about who he was. she was so in love with him too, she didn’t mind it, and she certainly wasn’t scared. dina was never scared of anything.

so they got married. and the night after their wedding, they flew to a private island joel owned for their “honeymoon”. aka, dina’s transformation. they were gone for almost three years. jesse kept a journal of everything that happened to her.

july 12, 1989. i did it. i held her so gently in my arms and sank my teeth into her neck. she was screaming, i know she was in pain, but she’ll never admit it. before she fell asleep, i drank a few of her tears and then closed her eyes. she’ll be twenty six for the rest of her life, until the earth stops spinning. i hope she can forgive me.

december 31, 1989. joel, i got your letter. she’s been doing okay. i can’t stop looking at her, her perfect curves and her deep brown hair. i think it was for the better that i took her dress off before we started, she designed it, it was so beautiful. i know she’d get upset about the red staining the expensive white satin. it’s still here, waiting for her. the year is about to end, we still have quite a few months until she awakes. i’m scared. not of her, of myself. am i a murderer? did i, a cold-blooded demon, destroy a perfect, innocent life? will she remember me?

august 27, 1990. it’s been over a year. nothing, but i know it’s coming. i’ve been holding her head on my lap, stroking her hair. i haven’t moved from this position in three months. she is so beautiful. i redressed her in the outfit she designed for this occasion, it suits her well. a part of me regrets this decision. i wish i could grow old with her, maybe have kids someday. sit on the porch while or grandchildren play in the yard. her eyes wrinkling with the smile she always flashes me. this will never happen. it’s just a dream.

november 16, 1990. she is awake. so much screaming. she’s in pain. won’t even look at me. she is thirsty. will bring her some bird blood to quench her thirst.

november 21, 1990. she only sits and stares at a wall, rocking back and forth. her eyes are white now. don’t know if she is okay. or if she will survive. her throat burns. if she goes, i go.

february, 1991. don’t know what day it is, she has calmed down. she didn’t remember anything at first. not me, not her name, nothing. she remembers now, though. hopefully we can come home this year. i still don’t know if i trust her enough around people. if she is caught, she’ll be burned. if she goes, i go.

may 18, 1991. traveled to a near by island. i taught her how to swim, she loves it. she’s so surprised that she can hold her breath infinitely. she is so beautiful, it’s like falling in love with her all over again. there were people at the island, it was a small village. they were kind, but we had to leave early. i don’t want to push her limits, but she did exceptionally well.

october 4, 1991. on our way home. starting this life forever with her. i hope she can forgive me.

[r0se1111]

Let's get more fluuuuff (before I start dropping angst prompts bc I like to suffer so that fluff feels even sweeter)

Okay, so, imagine: Ford and his s/o are on another research-date kinda thing, having fun and all, BUT all of a sudden they stumble upon some weird shi that seriously injured one of them!

Who is hurt? Who takes care of the other? How do they do it? It is up to you (*´꒳`)人

(bonus points for two versions and Ford carrying his s/o home bridal style👀)

Your head feels a little funny as it lolls against a hard surface. Furrowing your brow, you lift one shaky finger and press. You're met with a rapid pulse and an emanating warmth. This press of a finger turns into your whole palm attempting to soak up the heat. Almost without consent of your own mind your body curls into the source. Suddenly, you are being jostled and moved away from your personal little heartbeat. A hiccupped whine escapes your throat in protest, but this attempt of communication only causes a sharp pain in your abdomen. Looking down, you see another hand already lifting your sweater to find the source of this discomfort. Huh. Six fingers. That reminds you of...

The hands are now feeling along the clammy skin of your cheeks, the flesh there being pulled uncomfortably as they jostle. This time a disgruntled groan is your preferred method of communication. Something intelligible must have gotten across, you decide, because the warmth is back, and when you look up and see a pair of bespeckled eyes squinting worriedly at you. You gasp as stars fill your stomach because you recognize those eyes.

"-feeling okay? Dear, can you hear me?" Ford asks. His words seem to come out a slower than his lips move, and this is very interesting and amusing to you, so you reach forward with curious hands to touch those lips in investigation. This was decidedly not a good idea, as Ford's creased brow only deepens. He gently brings your hand down and moves his attention back to your stomach. Feeling jealous of all the attention your aching abdomen is getting, you turn your gaze down to glare at it.

Your gasp brings Ford's attention back to your face, but you don't even have the chance to bask in the warmth of his gaze as you stare at the wound on your stomach. It's so dark the blood looks more purple than red, and little spider-veins spread from the source up your veins. You can feel your own heartbeat pushing your blood throughout your circulatory system. Steadying your tongue, you carefully croak out "...Ford?"

"Hello darling. It seems that you've been stung by that manticore we were tracking and are feeling the effects of the poison entering your blood stream. But don't fear! I have just the thing." His optimistic words seemed strange coming out of such a sick looking face. He was pale, his dark hair was mussed, and a twitching frown had taken up residence on his oh so interesting lips. He's scared, you realized.

Another very flattering "grrrgh..." escaped you when you felt a sharp prick. Ford drew back from you holding an empty syringe.

"The antidote should only take a moment to take effect. After that we can worry about cleaning you up." He smiled weakly. You reached forward to hold his hand in your own attempt at comfort, the best you could do while the antidote pumped through your body. Ford's smile was softer and more familiar this time, and you saw some color return to his face.

He was right, of course, and after a bit all that was left of your encounter was a much more normal looking wound. Your head was clearer and your tongue less numb and blown up feeling. Ford was wetting a cloth to clean the injury when you spoke up. "Are you ok?"

His head jerked up and he looked at you with a sort of baffled amusement. "Well- well yes I'm ok. I'm not the one who was stung by a manticore. Are you ok?"

"I've had worse."

A choked out chuckle, a beat of silence, then he mumbles, "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I'm sorry. This is my fault, I keep dragging you along with me on these things and god it was supposed to be a date, way to show a girl a good time Ford, and now you're hurt and I'm so-"

His ramble was cut short as you reached to pause his hands in their dutiful care of your wound and intertwine his fingers with yours. "Hey."

He looked a little like you'd just sent volts of electricity though him as he responded. "Hello."

"I'm safe now. You made sure I was safe. It's not your fault, and it's ok." Your thumbs traced constellations over his knuckles. "And as far as the date part goes, I'd say this is pretty romantic, right?"

Ford's face went a little blank and then a little confused. "Me injecting you with a powerful anti-venom and then administering medical care to your open wound is romantic?"

A wave of warm fondness nearly sweeps you out to sea. "Well, I mean the whole bandaging up your partner thing is very... intimate. Or at least, I think so."

"Oh!" Ford exclaims, a little too loud for the quiet setting you are in, but you appreciate his enthusiasm nonetheless. "Yes, I suppose it is..." He trails off into a flush and suddenly his hands and eyes are busy with a roll of bandages. You see the little proud twitch of his lips and the pink color to his cheeks and know you've hit your mark.

So, when he finishes bandaging your wound you hit him with a cheeky little "Kiss it better?"

Ford is blushing in earnest now, but he gently leans down to press a little chaste kiss onto your hip, right at the border of where the bandages end, and you swear he's the one sending electricity through you this time as he leans back up to place his palms on your cheeks.

"Are you sure you're ok? That wasn't too much?"

Feeling a bit dizzy with adoration for this man, you lean in to meet his lips with your own. Now you understand why poisoned you had such a fascination with them as they move sweetly against your own. One last little desperate surge forward, then you two part to breathe and look at each other.

You lick your lips and the butterflies in your stomach turn into a swarm as you taste him. "I'm ok, it wasn't too much." You reply firmly.

Ford sighs and relaxes into your hands on his chest. You feel him inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. He nods then leans in and presses his forehead to yours. "You are completely wonderful and a little crazy, you know that?"

"That's why you love me."

An answering huff of laughter blows into your face. He peers up at you, innocent as a puppy. "Stay with me tonight?"

"Always."

[obsessivevoidkitten]

To Reject a Vampire

Male Vampire Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Non-con, vampire, biting, blood drinking, depressed reader, mind control, smut, blowjob, forced imprisonment, dead dove: do not eat, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 3.4k  (Vampire comm that took me way too long.) 

You were walking back home late one night with your friend, Jaime. You had known each other since childhood and remained inseparable. In fact, the two of you even lived right next door to one another. He had left for college for some years, but had returned as soon as he had become a registered nurse. The two of you often hung out when you were both off work and that sometimes led to walking to the gas station a couple blocks down the road to grab some snacks. You were both laughing from recounting a particularly funny memory you both shared when the sounds of laughter and chatter between the two of you suddenly died down into silence before he spoke. "Hey… there's something I wanted to ask you…" Oh no. Not again… "Have you maybe reconsidered us dating? I know you said no before but-" This was an ongoing problem with Jaime, the only thing really marring an otherwise near perfect friendship. He kept persistently asking you out. This had been going on for years now and your frustration finally got the better of you, making you snap. "NO!" You yelled interrupting him, "NO! NO! NO! NO! NOOOOO!!! It isn't happening! I am totally and completely uninterested in having any type of non-platonic relationship with ANYONE! Stop. Asking. It is NEVER going to happen. Not in this world or the next. Not in any way, shape, form, nor fashion! Get. It. Through. Your. Thick. Skull." You were panting after your outburst. A few seconds passed and you realized how harsh you had been as his face went from stunned silence to utter broken despair. You could practically hear his heart shatter. He often got a bit dejected when you had rejected him in the past, but this time you were much more harsh. With a sniff he started sobbing and running off towards home, leaving you to walk home alone in the quiet night. Sighing you slowly trudged home, sure that Jaime just needed to sulk for a few days before your friendship resumed with the both of you pretending like this awkward episode never happened. And, more than likely, that is just exactly what would have happened. Had a chance encounter on his way home not irreversibly changed Jaime forever. And not for the better. As Jaime was running home his tear filled eyes blinded him to the danger that was stalking him from the shadows. A sneaky predator who loved the taste tormenting his prey imparted, and how much sweeter when his meal was already flavored with the sweet marinade of sorrow and heartbreak? Suddenly Jaime was tackled into a dark alley that he was passing, the vampire easily dragging him back into the void where no eyes could pierce, firmly clasping his hand over Jaime's mouth to keep him quiet. The unknown assailant put his nose into the crook of Jaime's neck and inhaled deeply, savoring the mouthwatering scents of all the negative emotions Jaime had been experiencing that night. The current one being abject terror as the figure behind him didn't even acknowledge his vain attempts at struggling. "I'd tell you not to struggle, but it is really much more fun when you do," mused a deep man's voice. Jaime, whose first thought was that he was getting mugged, now thought that he was going to be raped as his attacker licked and kissed his neck in the same manner one's lover would. And he flailed all the more vigorously. Unperturbed, the man now violated Jaime in an altogether different and unexpected manner. Sinking long fangs easily into the soft flesh of his neck before sucking him nearly dry. It was amazing how thoroughly a vampire could drain a victim. Jaime died, but his murderer was not quite done with him. He loved sowing discord and chaos in any way that he could manage it, and having seen the spectacle early of you rejecting his victim he knew there was ruination and mayhem to be had by creating a fresh, unguided, love-sick vampire. So he bit open his wrist a bit and let the blood flow into the parted lips of our dear departed Jaime. Within an hour he would no longer be so dear nor so departed. And the unknown vampire stepped into the shadows and was never seen there again, happy with his meal and the knowledge that he had certainly derailed more than one life that night. When Jaime woke up hours later, just as the sun was rising, he had a major migraine, a sharp pain in his neck, was chilled to the bone, and felt like he was starving. His memory was spotty, he thought maybe he had been mugged, but he still had his phone and wallet on him. Maybe just assaulted by some crazy person. Whatever had happened he was alive and okay, so he shakily got to his feet, dusted himself off, and made his way home. By the time he had reanimated you had been in bed for hours. Though you hadn't really slept well. You felt so guilty for exploding on him like that. Sure, he kept asking you out, but it wasn't too often and you could have gone about rejecting him just a bit more gently. He had been really hurt, what if he didn't blow it off and resume your friendship like he usually did? After a few days had passed with no contact from him you began to get a bit more anxious, though it was still technically within the normal timeframe of when he usually started talking to you again after you turned down his advances. Still, given the way you had lashed out at him you figured that you should maybe be the one to check up on him instead. Jaime had a reason for not talking to you, what with his transition into a blood feeding immortal taking up most of his time. At first he had no idea at all what was happening to him. He felt cold and feverish and was beyond fatigued. He called off work from the first day, thinking he had a minor flu of some sort. All his senses were disorienting him. His body was adjusting to more sensitive vision, sense of smell, and even touch. The second day he felt better, but had an insatiable hunger, no matter what he ate nothing seemed to satisfy him. He ate a huge breakfast before work and at lunch he ate a lot as well. Some of his coworkers at the hospital even joked about how he was inhaling food that day. Jaime had no clue why he felt like he was starving no matter how much he ate. As someone in the medical field any number of possible causes went through his mind. Nothing really fit. A more concerning symptom was that whenever he was around a wounded patient, whenever he had to do a blood transfusion, or even just whenever he got the faintest whiff of blood his hunger flared up. His senses flared in sensitivity. He could almost have sworn he could hear the heartbeats of those near him. He realized he was craving the blood. It scared him, the thought made him nauseous. Admirably he managed to push away his quite literal blood lust for a couple days, but eventually he could fight his need for blood no longer. It was late at night at the end of his shift and he was beyond certain the coast was clear so he snuck into the storage room where the blood packs are kept and sunk his teeth into one, unknowingly growing fangs as he pierced it and sucked it dry. If the obvious signs hadn't been enough to clue him in on what he now was then innate instinctual knowledge that filled him with his first ingestion of vital human essence did. He was a vampire. A million thoughts raced through his mind, but his first priority was sating his hunger. He quickly grabbed some bags of blood and stuffed them into his coat for later before leaving for home. He was oddly excited, eager to test out what new abilities he had. A day later, when both of you were off work, you finally got a text from him asking to hang out with no mention of what had occurred between the two of you the other night. You breathed a sigh of relief, now things could go back to normal. The two of you had arranged for you to come by his house in a couple hours so the two of you could hang out, order pizza, and play video games. Just like the good old days. Things went entirely normal with no odd deviation or indication that Jaime was now a creature of the night. And it set the pace for your friendship to resume as if nothing had ever happened. Or so you thought, in the weeks since the two of you first started hanging out again Jaime had steadily been experimenting and training with his new found abilities. He had learned that he had an absurd tolerance to pain, extremely quick reflexes, and unholy strength. But, most importantly, he learned that he could compel anyone to do his bidding. He had plans to use this technique on you, but it wasn't quite perfected yet. Though every time he used it he got more and more effective. All he needed was practice and time. So while you went about life and continued your longest running friendship in blissful ignorance of what was to come he was readying himself for the day he could make you love him. When that day arrived it started like any other, you two hanging out at his place on a day when you were both off. But it definitely didn't stay that way. Jaime was at the point with his skill where he no longer even needed to issue commands verbally, he just needed good eye contact to assert his will over another being. "Hey is something wrong? Why are you staring at me so intensel-" You instantly went still and quiet. It was like you were trapped in your own body unable to do anything. When Jaime asked you if you would go out with him you wanted to say no but your lips were not your own and you said yes in a monotone voice. Jaime wore a shit-eating grin as he scooted closer to you and kissed you deeply. You were repulsed and afraid, why weren't you pushing him away, why weren't you slapping him, why were you returning the kiss? You wanted to scream and run away but you could do nothing to control your own body. Instead you wrapped your arms around him and made out with him. Jaime was thrilled, he bit your neck carefully and fed from you as you clung to him. You felt a sharp pain in your neck but could do nothing against it as he tasted your blood. For you it was hell, like a much worse and very real version of sleep paralysis. For Jaime it was heaven, he had never felt closer to you than in that moment. His beloved was finally in his arms and could do nothing to leave them. But he most certainly was not satisfied with that alone for long. Jaime carried you bridal style up to his bed. He very carefully undressed you, as if you were the most delicate doll to ever exist, and stood for a moment admiring every inch of your exposed body. You wanted to shout for help. To cover up. To run. To fight. ANYTHING but lay there under his unwavering gaze. But no matter how hard you tried to fight it you simply couldn't, you were a hostage in your mind, able to see and feel everything but do nothing. The first thing he did, after disrobing, was to attend to your sex. He touched your crouch carefully, as if afraid to hurt you. Like you might shatter at the slightest rough touch. He ran his eager hands, shaking with excitement, over every inch of you. He stroked your cheek tenderly and played with your hair, felt over your chest and thighs and hips. When he had thoroughly explored you and there were no more areas for his hands to discover he decided he needed to go deeper. The vampire took two lubed fingers and slowly worked them into you, gently prying your entrance open and stretching you to be ready for him. He savored every sensation and fold inside you, hard as a rock as he imagined his cock where his fingers were. You couldn't even cry as he violated you, you were denied even that emotional release. And this remained the case even as he slathered his cock with lube and aligned it with your entrance and made his way inside you with his slightly above average dick. Jaime was torturously slow as he "made love" with his dear partner. You just wanted this nightmare to be over, you wanted to believe that at any moment you would wake up sweating in bed like you would from any bad dream. You had to stare wide-eyed, made to take it all in, as he looked at you lovingly. He kissed you deeply, and once more you were made to comply, parting your lips so that he could move his tongue inside. Jaime happily rubbed his tongue against yours as he worked towards filling you with his hot seed. As he approached his climax he gripped your hip painfully and picked up the pace, really drilling you as deeply and as forcefully as he could, his balls slapping into you with each painful thrust. Right before he came he slowed down as much as possibly, wanting to draw out the sensation for as long as he could. Slowwwwwwly pulling out before sliding just as slowly back in, repeating this a few times before thrusting forward and emptying his balls into you as he bit the side of your neck that he left untouched earlier. You came too just as he did, your body now betraying you even further than it had already and in the most humiliating way. He drank a bit before sliding his dick out of you and kissing your cheek. "That was amazing babe! I love you so much!" And as a puppet pulled by its strings you replied, once more in monotone, "I love you too." And the illusion was shattered. It wasn't real. He may have had you, he may have even had your vocal chords, but he didn't have your emotions. And he soon learned that no matter what he tried, even though he could get you to do almost any action, he couldn't force you to love him. Jaime tried for weeks to force love for him into you, keeping you locked away in his house whenever he left for work. You tried to leave, of course, but simple orders lingered in you even when he was no longer present. You couldn't leave or get help in any way. All of your existence now amounted to was enduring his increasing frustration with being unable to make you love him interspersed with periods of anxiety while waiting for him to get home from work and torture you all over again. You were no longer aware of exactly how long you had been trapped, the days all kind of blended together. Most days he had work at the hospital and those days were all largely the same with little to no variation. Jaime would get up and make you breakfast in bed, insisting that he was trying to spoil you. You, in a mix of depression and defiance would not take a single bite and just stare at the plate that he brought to you on a tray with your favorite morning drink. Inevitably he would get frustrated, snap at you, force you to eat against your will, and slam the door as he went off to work. Then you were left alone, it was probably the only almost decent part of your day, but everything just seemed so hopeless. Inevitably the blood sucking parasite would be back and you couldn’t leave no matter how hard you tried to. At each attempt it was like someone seized your body and squeezed you into immobility until you submitted. When your “lover” got home he would fawn over you, often giving you a little gift. A small gesture you supposed was meant to somehow make you forget everything and fall helplessly in love with him. A small sweet treat, a flower, a tiny teddy bear. Anytime he tried this tactic you always ignored it or threw it across the room. Either way the result was the same. Jaime would snap, he would not even bother forcing you mentally as he grabbed your weak arms and bit painfully into your neck. “No please! I’m s-sorry!” You would cry, always regretting your action but never being able to stop yourself from denying his gifts when he offered them. And for the next part he would use his ability of compulsion to make you stop fighting. In his fury he wanted to hurt you a bit, but not TOO badly, and he enjoyed, for a moment, the fantasy that you were a willing participant. Most of the time he would then have you remove your clothing before sliding himself inside you, biting and kissing and sucking your neck as he did so, whispering how you were all his and about how much he loved you softly into your ear. Sometimes he would instead utilize your soft lips, jamming his hard cock down your throat, making you service him. The heat of your wet mouth combined with the sight of you looking up at him with his cock in your mouth was almost enough to make him blow his load immediately. You were just so beautiful. No matter the method that he chose it always ended the same. After his finished unloading into you his mind would clear and then be filled with rage as you were unable to reciprocate his love and enjoyment of the forced intimacy between the two of you. Jaime would angrily shove you aside, leaving you to clean yourself up, while he slammed the door to the bedroom and went to go make dinner. When it was ready of course he always found you laying where he left you, sobbing. Then he would, roughly, force you to your feet and drag you into the bathroom where he would run you a bath. This is where he would feel really guilty and suddenly turn soft. Every time. Gently shampooing your hair and cleaning your body, tenderly attending to the bites on your neck, happily babbling about how much he loves you and he knows you’ll love him eventually, you just need more time to adjust was all. Jaime would then clothe you himself and carry you down to dinner. You wouldn’t eat willingly, too catatonic by this point in the evening to do much of anything, but that was okay. Jaime was still in his sweet phase, all the anger having left earlier. He would feed you himself but compel you to swallow with his vampiric power, he always made your favorites. He had diligently learned to cook them perfectly for you over the years even though he otherwise did not enjoy cooking. After dinner he would always make an effort to spend some time with you, not getting angry when you were still, and when it was time for bed he would carry you up in his strong arms and lay you down as if you were made of the thinnest glass, a complete 180 to how he treated you when he first got off work. He would snuggle up to you from behind and hold you close, ending each night by telling you how much he loved you and saying he knew deep down you loved him back and one day you would be so happy with him. You hoped he was right, you hoped you could just be happy waking up in his arms, because if not this cycle of abuse juxtaposed to tenderness would never end.

[three-penguins-in-a-trench-coat]

Oh to be an NPC in Stardew Valley! Their lives must be so interesting and unique, and yet, they have no clue of it themselves. It must be nice to be so clueless as to one's legacy.

Pelican Town was quiet, and peaceful for a long time. Tourism was beginning to bolster, and the town was growing. A young, aspiring writer took up residence in an old shack on the beach. A family moved in to the town, bringing laughter and joy. An artist fixed up an old cottage, ready to bring her creations to life. Other businesses begin to pop up as well; a doctors clinic, a blacksmith, a scientist exploring the valley. For a long time, life was good. The old residents and the new blood worked together to improve the town, and carefully grow their slice of paradice for others to enjoy.

Unfortunately, all good things must eventually come to an end. The Farmer, a good, kind man, eventually had to retire, and his spirit returned once more to Yoba. The local economy begun to waver, just a little. Lewis knew they'd be okay, but it would take time.

And then Joja Corp stepped in.

The first the townspeople heard of the development was the builders rocking up to begin construction. Lewis, who should have been informed of the plans, was outraged. Unfortunately, he was bullied out of filing any lawsuits by Joja's ferocious team of lawyers, hounding him into silence. Pierre looked on with worry as the Joja symbol was painted on the new billboard.

The new Jojamart did help to keep some of the struggling townspeople afloat, with it's cheap prices and large stock. Unfortunately, it had a chain effect that was felt by the whole town. Pierre was hit the hardest, having to lean in heavily on savings he had put together for retirement. In turn, Marnie's clientele hit rock bottom, as did Clint and Robin's. They had to rely on travelers and tourists to support themselves, of which there were less and less. Joja had turned the town's rustic feel into another slice of modern suburbia.

Lewis eventually couldn't affort to keep the bus going, and it fell into disrepair. No one visited. With the main highway carefully making it's way around the town, only the occasional visitor would stop in. Slowly, the town fell further and further into ruin. The once grand community centre lay wasted and abandoned, left to rot.

But while everyone was focused on the ruins and the past, no one saw the magic creep back in...

The old Farmer's grandchild was certainly a bit odd. New to the town, the villagers looked on in faint amusement as they sprinted their way around the town. Pierre, who was sadly preparing to sell the store, felt a faint sense of hope start to stir. Within weeks of their arrival, they had project after project lined up for Robin to begin, and she took to it with great vigour. Clint and Marnie, who's businesses had all but dried up, were suddenly back in swing. And once Gil and Marlon had shown them the mines, well, Harvey never ran out of patients. While the Farmer dealt with extradimensional entities and shook hands with the magic of old, everyone else was noticing the slight uplift. The old, rusted gears that ran the town had ever so slightly started turning once more. Morris sat behind his desk and happily assumed that Joja was there to stay, and magic was left for fairy tales.

As spring rolled into summer, little improvements continued. The annual luau was a bit more festive, and the pot luck just that bit sweeter. Everyone liked the Farmer, even the most jaded of residents had to admit that having them was a big help for the town. Pierre found himself with more stock than he knew what to do with, and had begun shipping it out the excess to the distant Zuzu city. Robin found herself almost constantly called out to the farm, as the Farmer was constantly asking for new barns and sheds. Linus was the first to notice the re-appearance of the magic. The green rain which the Farmer ran through happily, the little creatures hiding in the ruins of the community centre. The faint wails echoing from the mines. He quietly observed from a distance, but chose not to interfere. As distracted as he was from the local politics, even he could see the positive change that was occuring.

The Stardew Valley Fair brought new crowds with the recently fixed bus. Everyone knew who had fixed it up, but they had chosen not to come forward, so no one pressed the issue. With new tourists filtering through the town, it truly felt like the Pelican Town of Old. Welwick the Oracle glanced at the old Community Centre, ruined and abandoned, and then at the shiny Jojamart that stood nearby, and smiled to herself. She knew that someday soon the roles would be reversed. When Lewis checked the quarterly figures for the town, he nearly jumped out of his seat with excitement. For the first time in years, he was able to put back into the town savings, instead of skimming from the bottom as he had been.

It was a quiet winter's day when the Community Centre was restored. Lewis was going for his morning stroll, and something nagged at his brain, telling him to take a different route. As the grand building came into sight, he fell to his knees, and tried not to cry. Evelyn was next to notice, carefully making her way next to Lewis. She put a hand on his shoulder, and they simply looked on in wonder. "It's just how it used to be." Evelyn said.

Word spread through the town, and people came out to have a look. The inside was just as grand, with the reinstated town vault, plenty of areas for people to socialise and a proper office for Lewis to work at once more. Food was brought in, and they celebrated, harder than they had for a long time. More than one person had to dab their eyes from time to time, trying their best not to cry. The Farmer was the last person to arrive, and quietly watched the celebrations from a distance. A faint smile came over their face, and they seemed content.

It was a while before Morris found the community centre. He had only been out there once, to survey the land for the new warehouse he wanted built. The sight of the centre standing once more shook him to his core. In that instant, he knew that everything he had worked for was over. Despite his best efforts, the town had prevaled, and Joja had lost. Pierre officially saw to his execution, and he fled for Zuzu city in shame. The higher-ups in Joja Corp were not impressed, and Morris was never able to recover his position.

Life in Stardew Valley changed once more. The Community Centre brought everyone closer, made them feel like a real community. Lewis was able to fund more projects, clean up the town, make the festivals bigger. Willy's idea for the "Trout Derby" took off, and at the first annual event, more than a hundred avid fishers took off into the Cindersnap forest to hunt down the elusice Rainbow Trouts.

For Pam though, the biggest moment was when she came back from her shift at the bus station, and saw Robin setting up construction equipment where her caravan usually sat. At first, she was angry and afraid that she'd been moved, but when she heard what was happening, she openly wept and thanked Robin for her service. Pam knew that the house being built would ensure that Penny would have a stable future, with a place to come back to if she was ever in need.

Kent returned from his time as a prisoner of war, scarred and hurt. When he had left, the town was on it's last knees, and feared for it's future. To see the Community Centre standing once more filled him with a sense of joy he hadn't felt in a long time. Of course, that feeling was completely overrided by the ecstasy of seeing his wife and children happy and safe. It was a long time before he was able to open up about his experiences, but together they were able to heal and grow.

It was a warm, spring day, and Linus was foraging for salmonberries in the forest when a man appeared. He was dressed completely in black, with a broad brimmed hat and sunglasses to hide his face. Stars twinkled all over his clothing, as if you were looking directly at the night sky. Linus turned to look at him, and smiled. "Hello old friend. I was wondering when you'd show up next." The man in black smiled, and for a brief moment, you could see the blue skin beneath the hat. "I've been rather busy of late, but I thought I would just pop on in." No one else would see his firm grip on the valley, no one but the Farmer.

Sometimes, there were dreams. The townspeople would dream of screams and death. Creatures being slain where they stood, unable to stop the wrath of the monster. Children crying and running, reaching out for help, only for them to turn into doves and fly away, cooing cries of sadness. Some of the younger townsfolk would have vague memories of the farmer in a more intimate light. Perhaps a moonlit stroll, or a spring wedding, but then anger, and a sense of betrayal.

They would wake up in a cold sweat, trying desperately to remember what had made them chilled to the bones, but it always faded. Life in the valley is beautiful, but is it by their own volition or the hand that made it so?

[goth-mami-writer]

♡•Feel Sick•♡ (pt.1)

~(AU) Leon Kennedy × f!Reader fic

⚠️TW⚠️: plot contains themes of age gap romance (reader is 18yo), obsessive behaviors, mild instances of stalking, coercion, emotional manipulation, and graphic smut. (Please interact with discretion ♡)

《“Honey, you're gonna have a great time. You know that Leon invites us every year! He's so proud of you for graduating-” Your mother said outside of your bedroom door that night as you were staring at the text from your boyfriend that told you he was finished with your relationship. 

Your eyes were red and watery with heartbroken tears as you screamed to be left alone and your mother tried for the millionth time to turn your locked door handle. 

You'd just gotten back from a graduation party held by one of your friends and you'd found your boyfriend there…. with another girl. Already feeling the first twinges of a heartbreak, you trudged home early from the party and your mother had followed you upstairs, telling you of your “Uncle Leon” planning to have you at his lake house for the weekend. 

But you only cared about what you saw that night with the boy you thought you'd marry someday. Stupidly. He really blew you off for another girl and didn't even bother to explain in person? He let you walk away devastated like this? Your face fell into your hands as you scrolled through the many text messages where he explained that you were just “too innocent” or “too naive” and that he wanted a “mature” relationship.

It was crystal clear what he meant. He wanted an easy girl to sleep with and that just wasn't you. 

“Sweetie, your uncle will be so upset if you-” 

“He's not my fucking UNCLE.” You screamed through the door, only to be reprimanded by your father from down the hall about your coarse language towards your mother who stood appalled. 

Your father was best friends with Leon Kennedy. Meaning that Leon was an active part of your life, especially in your earlier, growing up years. He always sent gifts on Christmas and always called on your birthday or at least mailed a card. He really was like an uncle even though your father was just his friend. But it was more than that. You trusted Leon with everything. He felt like a big brother sometimes. 

He sure did protect you like one. 

You couldn't tell your mother that you weren't coming for the weekend getaway. She was right. Leon would be devastated. The last two summers you weren't able to go because of extra curriculars with school. But here you were, staring at your breakup on a skinny screen in your hand. It didn't matter if you'd only known this guy for a few months. It felt like the world to finally have a boyfriend. You trusted him not to break your stupid heart in half. And now you felt like an idiot. 

Maybe going away was for the better. Even if it just didn't feel like it. 

~That Weekend 

You'd been quiet in the first few hours that you arrived at the lakeside residence. Your parents caught up with Leon on the back deck of the house and had their first beer of the afternoon while you were hidden away on his wooden dock next to the water. You were laid out in your bathing suit to grab some rays that you often didn't find in your hometown and had quiet music in your ears to keep you awake as you flipped through a magazine. 

You felt footsteps on the boards suddenly, and your eyes rolled, thinking it was your father here to tell you to wear sunscreen or put on some clothes. He hated you wearing a string bikini, after all. You rolled your eyes, not looking up to see who was coming, but your blood turned cold seeing Leon out the corner of your eye. 

For some reason that you were still sifting through, you were looking at him differently this summer. It's like he stood taller... Looked better…Or maybe talked sweeter than last time. He was the same old “uncle Leon” but you swore in the silence between you two now that something was…..off. 

Or different? 

But this something was making you blush. 

Your magazine snapped back up over your eyes in case you tried to stare and he laughed under a breath seeing it. He moved past your spot on the dock and stepped closer to the edge. Once you lost his gaze, you watched as he removed his t-shirt in a pull from behind his collar and your pulse quickened. 

You were in a full trance, looking over your red sunglasses to see what he was doing, becoming shirtless all of a sudden now. He looked down to the water only after glancing over his shoulder to you playfully before taking a running start to jump in the shallow end of the lake. You knew this was calculated when his large splash covered you completely in a cold shower of water. 

He heard you shriek as he surfaced back up to the top, resting his arms down on the dock beside you and then chuckled at your wet expense. You laughed at his keen way of always starting trouble and you only shook your head, wiping the water off of you in a sneer. 

“You don't have to be such a sourpuss because you got dumped, yanno?” Leon said, blowing the water off his lips as he slicked his wet hair back. 

You sighed, knowing you shouldn't have confided in your mom about that and you mentioned quietly, still flipping through your magazine that was now sopping, 

“I am not..a sourpuss.” 

“Sourpuss.” He said in a sing-song tone to mock you, making you giggle as he teased you more. 

Together, you both laughed, and your eyes began to wander amidst the moment of joy. His arms were lined in muscle, and the beads of lake water rolling down his face were….catching your attention. 

You tried to look away but you knew he wouldn't let you when he asked quickly as he still treaded water from the dockside below you, 

“You wanna go out on the boat later. You and me? Your dad's already drunk and we can talk if you need to…air out your drama, I guess.” 

Leon owned a large cabin cruiser docked at his vacation home that he often took your family out on during their seldom visits. You hadn't been out on the water in years and the idea felt exciting. Or maybe…it was just the idea of being away from your parents for a while. 

“I don't wanna bore you with my… drama.” You said quoting his words, crouching into a ball beside him and he shrugged to tell you with a soft smile, 

“Gotta make myself useful somehow. Besides-” 

You watched his eyes darken with another troublemaking idea and you began to lurch back cautiously, 

“Can't have you sulking around on my weekend.” 

His wet arms swung around you in a snatch and suddenly, before you could even shriek again, he pulled you down into the water with a mischievous grin. You thrashed in the cold water, coming up for air with a guttural chug for air and you felt him swimming beneath you. Leon heaved you upwards to hoist you onto his shoulders, piggy back style, in the cold water. 

Around him like this, you always felt so protected. Like nothing in the world could bother you while he had you so close. Sometimes, when your mind was quiet, you wondered if maybe your future boyfriend should be more like Leon but as you thought that, you tried not to blush for the first time. 

Your arms slinked around him in a huff of surrender and you cringed to your now drenched jean shorts and Converse that were waterlogged. He heard you quietly laughing to give into his fun and said with a narrowed expression that could pick you apart every time, 

“See? You know you wanna drop all the moody bullshit. Come on, now.” 

He treaded water, gently swimming you both around the dock’s edge that gleamed with the soft reflections of water and you admitted softly with your chin rested down onto his skin, 

“Yeah- yeah. Just don't let me drown out here.” 

He pulled you closer in a tug further up on his shoulders and he mentioned with his head turned as he maneuvered you both in the water,  

“You know better. Hush.” 

His cocky, arrogant replies like this did nothing to better those thoughts in your mind that you know needed to stay down like a rock beneath the water. Resting at the bottom, never to see the surface. Goddamn it, you thought as you came to terms with yourself in the silence now. 

He was attractive. And the ‘protective older brother’ feeling you held only made him more desirable. 

But this was your father's friend. He was twice your age. He was there when you still had pigtails in your hair and childhood freckles on your face.

Was this really…..okay? 

Sure, you were an adult now and on your way to college soon. But- would Leon even see you that way after all these years of growing? Or would…he see you the same as your ex boyfriend? Naive and innocent? 

But could attraction you didn't create, really be so wrong? 》

[scribe-cas]

gets bored and posts short hair cou

Here @sm-writes-chaos I said I'd pack him up and ship him to you but he got a haircut

Bonus crayon doodle:

[foureyedentity]

“Well, well, well.

Would you look at that.

I suppose perhaps I can pull off something fancy.”

Cou being Cou

I have no explanation for this i just like drawing him

[aquagirl1978]

Rain Soaked Roses

Pairing: William Rex x Reader Prompt: getting caught in the rain Word count: 1355 Tags: NSFW; Minors - DNI; fingering; suggestive situations

“Will…”

The smell of rain soaked roses was strong as he held you in his arms, your head tilted back as his tongue traced an invisible line down your throat. A gentle rain fell on, doing little to cool off the shared heat radiating from your bodies. 

You were out earlier that evening; Will had invited you on an impromptu date to the theatre. The show was captivating, what little parts of it you paid attention to. Who could blame you when you had your handsome partner seated next to you, stealing sinful glances of you while his hand was carefully hidden underneath your skirt, resting high on your thigh.

You had never wanted to leave a show so badly.

Once in the carriage, Will easily pulled you onto his lap. Pressing your palms against his chest to steady yourself, you felt his quickening heartbeat under your hand. You smiled as he traced your lips with his blood-red fingernail, your gaze never leaving his.

“You look so adorable like this.”

“Like how?”

“Like when you want to be greedy but you’re trying to hide it,” he answered with a laugh.  

Heat rose from your core to your cheeks; sometimes you hated how easily he was able to read your thoughts. 

“Don’t be so shy, my darling robin.” He cupped your cheek and brought his lips close to yours. “I want you just as badly.”

He kissed you, his lips firm yet soft. Gentle at first, his hunger growing with each kiss. You let out a pleased sigh when the tip of his tongue probed open your lips. Tongues twisting and twirling, your hand slowly drifted down his torso. 

“Not yet,” he said, his grin mischievous as if he had some sort of plan. “Just kisses now.”

Pouting, you let out a sad whimper.

His eyes half-lidded, his voice took on a husky tone as he whispered. “The things I want to do to you…” He paused, letting his lids close and breathed out a soft sigh. “I don’t wish to stay in this carriage any longer than we need to.”

Lips locked in kiss after kiss,  each sweeter and more sinful than the last, you both were oblivious to the loud crack of thunder, the skies opening, unleashing a fury of rain upon the city.

By the time the carriage reached the castle, the rain had tapered off to a light drizzle. Will linked his fingers with yours and gave you a look before tugging on your hand, leading you not to the entrance but the gardens.

You walked in silence, save for the sounds of raindrops falling on the flora of the garden. The precipitation, now more mist than rain, was gentle enough that you slowed your steps, enjoying how the cool water felt on your heated skin. 

Will stopped and turned to you, his blood-red eyes gazing into yours. Something stirred inside you as you watched him run a hand through his hair, slicking his silver bangs back from the rain. Droplets of rain glistened on his skin like tiny diamonds in the moonlight. 

He took your hand and spun you around, a quick taste of what it would be like to dance with him in the rain. As he clasped his hands behind your back, caging you in his arms, his gaze captured yours, his smile alluring, sending a sweet thrill through your chest. 

“What do you want to do, my darling robin?” he asked in a sing-song voice.

Your heart raced as the need to feel his hands on your slick body increased. As you recalled the words he whispered to you in what felt like so very long ago – kissing without asking for permission is a fine sin – you lifted your hands, cupping his cheeks in your palms. 

And you kissed him. 

Catching him by surprise, you felt the corners of his lips curve into a pleased smile, encouraging you to deepen the kiss. Heat radiated from his body as he pressed closer to yours, his nails scratching your scalp as he cradled the back of your head in his hand.

He pressed his lips against your neck, nipping at your sensitive skin as the rain fell harder. Breathing him in, the scent of rain soaked roses filled your lungs. Intoxicating and familiar, if you closed your eyes and felt dizzy; you could easily drown yourself in it. 

When did being bad feel so good?

“Will, we should…go inside,” you said between sighs, his mouth sucking kisses along your collarbone.

He looked up at you with that smile. That sinful smile that squeezed your heart. You watched as he tilted his head back, his silver hair slicked back from the rain, shone in the moonlight and laughed at your suggestion.

Rather than answer you, he took your hand and pulled you towards the nearby gazebo. Once under the cover from the pouring rain, you walked over towards the railing and looked out at the curtain of rain falling from the sky. Drops of rain drummed against the roof, drowning out Will’s footsteps.

“Is this better?” He pressed his chest against your back, his breath warm as he whispered in your ear, his teeth grazing your skin. Taking you into his arms, his lips returned to your neck, his tongue poised to lavish you with affection. 

The old you would never do this, but the new you? The one truly, madly, deeply in love with William, the one finally found her true voice and was now selfish and greedy, would want nothing more than to do this.

Tilting your head, you further wrapped your fingers in his hair, keeping his face close to you. This was encouragement enough for Will and he continued to suck on your skin, dragging one hand down your torso and pulling up your skirt. 

When met with no protests from you, he continued to slide his hand underneath the layers of fabric and up along your thigh. Blood-red nails danced along your skin like he was playing the piano, eliciting sweeter sounds with each touch. A chill ran down your spine, not from the cool rain coating your body

Don't stop. Don't ever stop. Loving me. Touching me. Making me feel like this.

“Fuck,” you hissed the moment his fingers left your skin. 

“I like it when you curse at me.” He brushed a quick kiss on your cheek, and smiled at you, clearly pleased.

“I like it more when you –” You let out a sweet sigh when his hands moved to your hips, letting your skirt fall down your legs.

He spun you around and greeted you with a smile – a wicked and alluring smile – silently asking you to finish your sentence.

“I want it all,” you said, placing your palms on his chest, fingers curling into his soaked jacket. “I want everything.”

“It would be my pleasure,” he said softly. His hands slid down your torso to your hips; lifting your skirt, he quickly removed your underwear, the air cool against your exposed skin. 

Your breath suddenly hitched; you weren't aware he had freed his erection until he pressed his hips against yours, pushing inside you.

So when did being bad feel so good? It was easy really.

“Will…”  You tilted your head back as you whimpered, allowing the rain to hit your heated skin. The drops were refreshing, but did little to cool you. 

The rain, much like his love for you, was not gentle. His hands, his mouth, covered your body roughly as the rain continued to pour down from the sky.

“Sing for me, my sweet robin,” he whispered while gazing into your eyes. “Sing only for me.”

Being bad felt good the moment you handed your life over to a villain. 

He held you in his arms as you came down from your high, your body clinging to his as your panting slowed. His head fell forward and rested on your shoulder, the tip of his nose tickling your neck.

“I love you, Will,” you whispered breathlessly.

He didn’t respond, but you swore you felt his smile against your skin.

Tagging: @redheadkittys @themiscarnival @coral-relevium    @cyberk1ee @kookie-my-little-sunshine    

@ellisgivesmelife013 @ikemen-writer @nightghoul381 @randonauticrap @xbalayage

@xenokiryu @alydra @drachonia @ranhanabi777 @silver-dahlia

@lunaaka @ikesenwritings @sh0jun @natimiles @valkyyriia

@queengiuliettafirstlady @justpeachyteastea @kalims-pessimist-bestie @shadowylakes @writingwhimsey  

@candiedcoffeedrops @lucyw260 @nightfoxqueen

[enid-rhees]

bite me ‧₊˚♡ enid rhee x vampire!fem!reader

summary ‧₊˚♡ enid finally asks you to do what you’ve been waiting a century for.

warnings ‧₊˚♡ suggestive content, blood-sucking.

her skin was so sweet.

Y/N’s lips devoured Enid’s neck, her cold lips kissing the sweet, pale skin. Enid moaned underneath her, her legs slowly hiking up Y/N’s and her fingers gripping Y/N’s back.

god, if Y/N still had a heart, it’d be beating so fucking fast right now.

she could feel the warmth of Enid’s blood pulsing through her veins, it made her cheeks rosy pink, her skin burning red as Y/N turned her on to no end. they’ve never gone farther than this - just making out.

Y/N was scared of hurting Enid in any way, she wouldn’t know what to do with herself if Enid ever got hurt and it was her fault. and as much as she wanted to make love to Enid, she didn’t know how much control she truly had.

but it wasn’t a secret that Enid wanted her just as badly. every night she teased Y/N, running her fingers over her clothed cunt, or running her lips across her icy cold neck. she wanted Y/N to ruin her, but Y/N refused. until they were married, or until Enid gave her the green light to change her.

“Y/N.” Enid panted, her pink, plump lips slightly parted. “Y/N please.” she whined, tears pricking her eyes. “what is it, darling? tell me.” Y/N spoke softly, trailing her finger tips over Enid’s cheeks. Enid got chills at the touch.

“bite me.” she spit out. Y/N’s eyes widened slightly. “baby-“ she started, but Enid shook her head. “please… please. i need you so bad. i need to feel your teeth in me. i want to be yours forever, please.” Enid begged, her green eyes pouting up at Y/N.

how could she say no?

“baby, you have no idea how much i want to. but you need to be aware of the pain you’re about to experience. i can’t- i can’t make it go away.” she whispered softly, rubbing her thumb over Enid’s lips. “i don’t care.” Enid stated with a shake of her head. “bite me. please.”

Y/N inhaled a breath she didn’t even have and tilted Enid’s head to the side. Enid’s blood filled her senses and her pupils dilated. “ready?” she asked. Enid nodded. “i’ve been ready for a fucking century.”

her mouth opened, and then her fangs slowly came out. she leaned closer to Enid, hesitating. “please, Y/N. just do it.” she whined.

so she did it. she sunk her teeth into Enid’s neck, taking all of her blood. Enid screamed in pain, but part of it was a moan. Y/N could tell. she held onto the other side of Enid’s neck to keep her place and sucked harder. she could feel Enid grind herself into Y/N’s legs.

her blood was sweeter than anything else she’s ever tasted. she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. it was so addicting.

beneath her, Enid went limp. she pulled away instantly, hovering over Enid’s body. “come on, baby.” she whispered, licking the blood off of her teeth. her skin was pale, and her eyes were dull. “come on…”

under Y/N’s hand, she felt Enid’s neck turn cold. cold like her, not just a little. she stared into her green eyes, and watched as blood red washed over them. a smirk formed on her lips as Enid’s body slowly came back to life. “baby?” she asked.

there were a few moments of silence, and then Enid’s red eyes met her own. Y/N didn’t even have a moment to process Enid’s beauty before Enid pounced on her, her cold lips attacking hers. Y/N held onto her back and kissed back desperately.

Enid pulled away first, smiling at Y/N with newly sharp fangs and her red eyes. “i’m yours forever now.” she whispered, leaning down to kiss down Y/N’s neck. Y/N moaned as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. “forever.” she repeated breathlessly.

a/n: i love twilight btw. enid icon by the amazing @elisiassideb1tch 💙

[thehistoriangirl]

Viktor Masterlist

Here are all my works for the husband :3 will be linked to the pinned post soon!

-> Jayce Talis Masterlist <-

-> Mel Medarda Masterlist <-

-> JayVik x Reader, & other characters <- [PENDING]

✨ = Fluff

💔 = Angst

💞 = Smut aka Fluff with Horny sprinkled

💀  = Violence; Blood; Major/Minor Character Death(s)

💔 💀 The Silence Between Us [Viktor x gn!Reader]

-> SFW, Secret Crush, Angst, Canon Compliance|

✨💔The Memories We Kept Within [Machine Herald!Viktor x gn!Reader]

-> (A continuation): SFW, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending

✨💞 I’ll Show You, [My Love] in the Shelter of the Night   [Viktor x fem!Reader]

-> NSFW, Explicit, Friends to Lovers

✨ 💞 A Well-Deserved Celebration [Viktor x AFAB!Reader]

-> Christmas Special 2022, NSFW, PWP, Established Relationship

💔It Had to be You,: Part 1 [Machine Herald!Viktor x fem!Reader]

-> Soulmate AU, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, Eventual Happy Ending

💀 It Had to be You,: Part 2

It Will Always Be You: Part 3 [PENDING]

✨ 💀 Where the Woods Brought Us Together: Part 1  [MH!Viktor x Fem!Reader]

-> Halloween Special 2022, Magical Forest, Offering, Strangers to Lovers, Forest Guardian Spirit!Viktor, Healer!Reader|

✨ 💔 Part 2

💔 ✨ 💞Part 3 (Final Part) NSFW

💀Primeval Penumbras: Part I [Viktor x Fem!Reader

-> Halloween Special 2022, Void Monster! Reader, Strangers to Lovers

✨💞 Part II NSFW

[PENDING: Part III & Part IV]

✨ Not Just a Summer Affair: Part 1 [Viktor x Fem!Reader]

-> Crushes, Friends to Lovers, Beach AU, PWP

✨ 💞 Part 2 NSFW

✨ 💞 Part 3 NSFW

💔 ✨ I Love You, As Friends Do  [Viktor x gn!Reader]

-> St. Valentine Special 2023, Friends to Lovers, Misundestanding, Light Angst, Happy Ending

✨ I Hope to Found You [Viktor x fem!Reader]

✨💞When You Warmed Up My Heart  [Viktor x AFAB Reader]

-> Mild NSFW

✨ I’ll Be There for You [Viktor x gn!Reader]

✨When You’re Not Here, I Lie Awake and Dream of You [Viktor x gn!Reader]

✨[We’re] More than a Match Made in Heaven [Viktor x gn!Reader]

✨These Ones Are For Love [Viktor x AFAB!Latinx!Reader]

✨To Feel Better, All I Need is You [Viktor x gn!Reader]

-> A request

✨Amuse Me, Love [Viktor x gn!Reader]

✨ Let Me Be Your Shelter [Viktor x gn!Reader]

-> A request

✨All Our Ways to Say “I Love You” [Viktor x gn!Reader]

-> A request

✨ You, My Solace [Viktor x gn!Reader]

-> A request

✨The Sweeter Trick [Viktor x gn!Reader]

-> A request, Halloween Special 2023, Established Relationship

✨ Loving Gifts [Viktor x Fem!Artist!Reader]

-> A request, Holidays AU, Established Relationship

Until Our Secrets Drift Us Apart [Viktor x Fem!Reader] EXPLICIT

-> Modern AU, Marriage of Convenience, Strangers to Lovers, Slow Burn [8/16]

> M A S T E R L I S T 

Technique: Reverie on Canvas[Viktor x fem!Noxian! Reader] MATURE

-> Soulmate AU, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Eventual Machine Herald!Viktor, Poisoner!Reader [3/?]

> M A S T E R L I S T 

The Oblivious Game I Want to Lose (Without Losing You) [Viktor x Hopeless Romantic! gn!Reader]

-> A request, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Angst & Fluff, Happy Ending [COMPLETED]

>  M A S T E R L I S T 

The Tides Have Veiled [Viktor x Fem!Reader] MATURE

-> Halloween 2022, Gothic AU, Spooky Sea AU, Strangers to Lovers, Magic, Ghosts, Mermaids [17/40]

> M A S T E R L I S T 

The Delirium of Still-Lifes [Vampire!Viktor x Artist!Fem!Reader] MATURE

-> Halloween 2023, Vampire AU, Gothic AU, Dark Magic, Strangers to Lovers, Haunted House [1/?]

>M A S T E R L I S T

Without Compromise [Viktor x Fem!Reader] EXPLICIT

-> Blind Date, Valentine's Day 2024, Matchmaking, One Night Stand Going Wrong [1/7]

>M A S T E R L I S T

If You Hadn't Left (Me) [Viktor x Fem!Reader] EXPLICIT

-> Second Chance/Exes to Lovers, Valentine's Day 2024, Angst & Fluff [1/10]

>M A S T E R L I S T