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#tw puncture wounds
chocowhomps · 2 years
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1k followers on twitter celebration picture! 👏👏✨🔥
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glittergummy · 5 months
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Who'd ever heard of a flightless bat? I can fix that for you.
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creppersfunpalooza · 3 months
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creppersfunpalooza more like crepperscaraccident
so guess what i did today…
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kiame-sama · 2 years
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Let it be known; I am unhappy the dog started the fight, but I'm not mad it bit me. It wasn't aggression towards me and was simply redirected at me when I tried to break the fight up. I am glad my thumb is still attached, as the dog that bit me locked his jaw for a good 10 seconds and tugged (I did think I would lose my thumb for a hot moment). I don't blame it for my injuries, but I do blame it for the other dog's injuries as it had to go to the vet and me to the ER.
The other dogs (as it was a doggy daycare) actually jumped in to protect me the moment I was bitten. It was the larger breeds dog group and they decided I was worth defending, so great instincts in those dogs.
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maxemilianverstappen · 4 months
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Damn i hate getting my blood drawn. No matter how careful the nurses are, my veins always rupture and I get a huge purple and red blotch that hurts like crazy inside my elbow 😭
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t4tstarvingdog · 2 years
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guys. i know the reason i feel so weird
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drswaino · 2 years
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thebadchoicemachine · 2 years
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Jesus Christ today sucked
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aquawyrm · 7 months
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Shoulda watched my step
Well. I learned the hard way that, with enough force, it's entirely possible to lodge about an inch of bobby pin in the arch of a human foot.
I needed help pulling it out, and I needed help with first aid afterward. It's been a couple of days, and there's no swelling, oozing, redness, or other signs of infection, and my foot's healing really well.
Just, uh. I'm gonna be more careful about picking those up off the floor when I find them on the ground from now on.
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manhandlememando · 1 month
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i’ll beg whatever gods i need to. | cregan stark
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cregan stark x f!wife!reader
format: one-shot
tw: MDNI warning (oh boy here we go) in depth descriptions of gore and bodily injury, blood, ANGST, cregan crying and in pain, mentions of religion and praying, hurt/comfort, more angst, angry cregan, insecure!cregan, unprotected piv, oral (both receiving), face riding, cowgirl, breeding kink (duh he’s a stark), uncut cregan. (written in 3rd person POV) (she/ her pronouns)
word count: 5,539
excerpt: Whatever angelic being had blessed this world with his form, she begged of it to leave him with her. However broken or scarred, she didn’t care, she just needed him. With tears streaking her face she looked up to the heavens in anguish, begging anyone who could hear her to please, let him come back to me.
- or -
cregan gets mauled by a direwolf.
song inspirations: youth by Daughter, human by Daughter, i gave you all by Mumford & Sons, heavy in your arms by Florence and The Machine, i found by Amber Run, roslyn by Bon Iver and St. Vincent, work song by Hozier, family tree by Ethel Cain, in the woods somewhere by Hozier, glory by Dermot Kennedy
The hour of the owl came passing over Castle Black, and still Cregan had not returned from his patrol of the Wall. Her worry had grown tenfold, the knot in her stomach was now a heavy stone. She knew something was amiss. Moving from their shared chambers to the corridors of the small castle, she decided a short walk may alleviate some of her anxiety, allowing her to clear her head.
However after only several minutes of beginning to wander, she heard commotion coming from the direction of the courtyard. Yelling and shrieking, men could be heard barking orders at each other, calls for the maester were loud, but the one thing that rose above it all was the most blood curdling roar she’d ever heard. Not wasting any time, she ran through the narrow hallways towards the source of the noise, only to come to a dead stop, the beating of her heart doing the same.
There he lay on a gurney in the middle of the courtyard, thrashing against the hands trying to hold him still. Crying out in agony as the maester tried his best to assess the situation at hand.
“Oh gods…” she gasped when the source of his pain became clear to her. His armor was covered in deep crimson streaks of blood, the leather ripped to shreds revealing the metal beneath. His face, contorted in pain, bore two long gashes from above his right eyebrow and trailing down his temple into his hairline. It seemed as if a deep crimson curtain had been pulled over half of his face as the blood seeped from the deep, jagged cuts. However the worst of his injuries were to his left shoulder, which seemed to be attached only by the grace of the gods. It was so gruesome she began to feel ill. The bone of his upper bicep was exposed, the flesh hanging from it. Blood seeping profusely from the wounds, teeth marks littered his forearm and hands. The fabric of his pants torn and she could see more crescent shaped puncture wounds littered across his legs, and his right ankle was bent at a sickening angle. They were large, belonging to something much bigger than anything she had seen in the North. A direwolf.
A young knight was holding the Stark ancestral sword, Ice, which was now covered tip to hilt in blood. Another man standing next to the knight who bore her husbands sword, stepped towards her.
“My Lady you mustn’t be here, you should not witness this,” he said, trying to block her view of her husband.
“No! No, I must be with him,” she rushed forward, only to be stopped by the strong arms of the guard holding her back.
“Please! He’s my husband, I have to -,” she began to plead with the man keeping her in her place before Cregan’s loud yell stopped her sentence short. The maester and his assistant were beginning to pack his wounds with whatever clean cloth the other men could find, Cregan seemed as if he was trying to pull away. Arching at the contact to his arm and shoulder, neck straining and face red as another scream erupting from deep within him. Tears were streaming down his face as it crumpled into an expression she never thought she’d see from him; fear.
It took two full grown men to hold him still, even in his weakened state, as they began to move him from the damp ground. Although, consequently the motion caused his body to shift and in turn sent him into another fit of agony.
At the sounds of his screams getting even more broken and strangled, her knees fell weak, slumping into the man’s hold as the air left her lungs.
He could die, the thought crossed her mind when she caught a glimpse of the expanse of blood leftover on the muddy ground.
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They had placed him in their bedchamber and the maester had since given Cregan milk of the poppy to calm him. He had been cleaned up and mended as best as the maester and his assistant could manage. They had also taken measures to prevent infection, although they informed her that it wasn’t fail safe and to be prepared for any outcome.
“He will have an incredibly long recovery period… if he survives,” the maester said to her as he wiped his hands of her husbands blood, his voice lowering as he spoke of his Lord’s possible death. She only nodded, eyes wide, feeling as if she was submerged in water. All the words being said to her were muffled and distorted. Some of the men from the Watch had tried to pull her from the bedchambers when they had first begun to work on him, whispering false reassurances and pleading with her to not witness this.
She couldn’t look away from his limp form laying on their shared bed, smothered in white bandages that were slowly blossoming red. However, his torso was somewhat unmarked by the direwolf’s teeth and claws (save for several deep purple bruises beginning to show their full form) due to the steel armored chest piece he had adorned upon her request, just before leaving for his patrol.
This might be his deathbed, she thought to herself. Tears beginning to pool on her lashes.
“I shall leave you. I will return in several hours to replenish the milk of the poppy… if he wakes again,” the maester looked down at the floor in despair. Exiting the room, the maester bid his condolences.
Nearing the bed, she knelt down and lightly took his hand in hers, brushing her lips over his bandaged knuckles and letting out a shaky breath.
“Please, my love you must wake up. Heal well and return to me, do not leave me in this world without you,” she pleaded with the unmoving form in front of her. The tears beginning to fall as she placed her head upon the bed next to their interlocked hands.
She did not pray, she never had found an interest in paying much attention to the new gods or the old. But in this moment she found herself reaching out for guidance as she called upon the gods to help him. Whatever angelic being had blessed this world with his form, she begged of it to leave him with her. However broken or scarred, she didn’t care, she just needed him. With tears streaking her face she looked up to the heavens in anguish, begging any god that could hear her to please, let him come back to me.
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The night dragged on, as if time had been weighed down by the gravity of the situation, and on its continued trek forward it somehow had slowed.
The maester had come and gone twice before, but Cregan had not woken yet. She refused to move from his side the entire time, having wept for hours she now felt empty and void of anything at all.
“My Lady you must eat,” a guard had come in, trying his best to persuade his Lady of the North to eat something or else she would fall ill.
“I am not hungry,” she flatly responded to the young man, whose face fell as he nodded and exited the room.
It was several more hours before Cregan awoke, he was still deep within the fog of the poppy’s milk but he was whispering something. His mouth barely moving, the sound coming out more like a silent prayer than a word.
He spoke her name, breathed it more like. But still, through all the hell he had been through in the last several hours, his mind only fell upon her.
“My love,” she said softly, lifting his hand to her lips once more. “My love, can you hear me?” She asked, but was met with nothing. Cregan drifting back into sleep, leaving her in the silence once again.
He woke like this periodically over the next several days, the maesters visiting every couple of hours to assess his wounds and change his bandages. Still all the while providing him with an ample amount of milk of the poppy to ward off his pain. They were somehow successful in warding off any major infections to the wounds, which was nothing short of a miracle. They had spent hours on different herbal remedies to help the Lord of the North heal without a fever.
As the days passed, she still refused to leave his side. Six days had passed by the time Cregan finally gained enough consciousness to express his pain level.
She had been napping in a chair next to the bed where he lay. Waking suddenly to the sound of a loud, pained groan.
“Cregan!” She gasped, his eyes opened just slightly, and she saw they were bloodshot but open nonetheless. He hissed in pain as she touched his hand.
“What’s happened?” He asks weakly, looking down at the bandages still covering most of his body.
“There was an incident beyond the Wall when you went to patrol the perimeter several days ago. They say you and the men were attacked by a direwolf.” She explains softly. His face drops, his eyes going wide at the memory. With some effort he tried to look down at his left shoulder, and when met with the sight of layers and layers of white bandages, he grimaced.
“I remember,” he whispers. His eyes closing as he inhales deeply, wincing again at the movement. When he opens his eyes again she can see the tears gathered within them.
“I - I cannot feel my hand,” he said, his voice breaking as he looked down at his left hand once again, his dominant hand.
“I will fetch the maester, it must just be a symptom of the damage caused. They will mend it though, as they have everything else,” she reassured him and stood to leave and get the maester, but they both know her reassurance was empty of any fact.
Worry gripped at her stomach again as the maesters words rang within her ears; “he will have an incredibly long recovery period”.
But what if there was no recovering fully from this? What if he would never be able to wield a sword again? Or walk properly? The thoughts swam in her mind, each drowning out the other.
She returned shortly with the maester, who breathed a sign of relief at the sight of Cregan fully awake.
He tried to offer Cregan more milk of the poppy before he began assessing the healing progression of his injuries, but Cregan refused.
“My Lord, I do not wish to see you in pain. But I must remove the bandages -,” the older man tried to explain, but Cregan cut him off curtly.
“Then do it,” he said, his face stern.
“Cregan, please listen to the maester, this is going to be more painful than you think,” she tried to reason with him, but his jaw was set and so was his mind.
“As you wish, my Lord,” the old healer nodded solemnly, moving to remove the first bandage. Upon contact with his arm Cregan did not grimace or contort in pain, his brows furrowed as if confused.
“I cannot feel it,” he said, his voice sounding far away, as if was in shock at the realization finally setting in.
“What, my love?” She inquired, looking at his arm as the maester began to unwrap more of the white fabric. The stitches were surrounded by bruised skin, what couldn’t be stitched back together was healing under a protective salve the maester had prepared. It will scar badly, but it didn’t matter, they were able to save his arm when she was more than certain he would lose it. As the maester lifted his arm Cregan had no reaction, just staring blankly into space. She was sure he must be in pain but he wasn’t reacting to what the maester was doing whatsoever.
“My darling, are you alright?” She asked him quietly, placing a hand under his chin to turn him to face her.
“I cannot feel anything,” he said, still his voice was hollow.
“What do you mean?” She questioned, not fully understanding what he meant by that.
“In my arm, it does not hurt because I cannot feel it,” he explained finally meeting her eyes. That was where she saw the flicker of fear again come across his face, worry painting his features.
“This is my dominant hand, I must be able to use it whenever necessary. It is the hand with which I wield Ice. But now I am not even able to move it. I am no longer a sufficient warrior… or man,” he said, his voice shaking as tears came to his eyes. The maester gave Cregan a pitiful look that just upset the Lord more.
“No, no that is not true my love,” she rushed to comfort him, cradling his face, making sure to avoid the stitches on his brow and temple.
“Do not do this to yourself, my darling. Do you understand what you have survived? You were attacked by a direwolf, Cregan… and you survived. That is next to impossible, but here you are,” she said, her voice soft and dripping in empathy. Brushing a tear from just under his eye as it began to fall. He shifted his gaze away from her, his eyes hardening again.
“But what good is survival if I am no longer able to live how I am meant to?” He said, still not meeting her eyes.
“It will take some adjustment, but we will get through this. You will get through this,” she assured him.
“Cregan… look at me,” she says quietly, trying to get him to connect with her again and not sink deeper into his darkening thoughts.
“Look at me, now,” she commanded in a more firm tone, which caused him to finally look at her once more, a sheepish expression in his eyes.
“Stop this at once,” she said, still holding her firm tone. He nodded and sighed, knowing he would not win this one. But as he cast his eyes downwards and frowned slightly, she knew he couldn’t be swayed in this moment from the doubt that was consuming him.
This will be a long recovery indeed, she thought to herself.
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About thirteen moons after Cregan had been nearly killed by the direworf, the head of which now hung in the council room, he had recovered quite well by what the maesters had told her.
The Lord and Lady of Winterfell had since moved back from their residence at Castle Black when Cregan was finally well enough to travel. Although his body was healing well with time, his mind only sunk deeper into the belief he was now not worthy of his station as Warden of The North and the Lord of Winterfell. He had become easily irritated and many days she wished to not spend time with him, however she understood this too shall pass. She had sworn to him in her marriage vows to be by his side through sickness and in health, and she had no intention of breaking those vows in her lifetime.
As the Winter continued on, and as Cregan's strength grew back and the feeling began to make its way back into his limb, he was insistent on beginning his sword work training. She understood his urgency, finally having hope after such a long time of uncertainty was an addicting sort of feeling. It was hard for Cregan to accept that he would have to relearn how to use a sword with this new complication, and not train as he once did, as if nothing had happened.
Once the maester overseeing the Lord's care had cleared him to begin his lessons, she asked him if she would be able to accompany him. He agreed instantaneously, he was going to ask her anyways, feeling much better in her presence than anyone elses.
She busied herself with a book, perching upon several barrels of wine that sat on the edge of the courtyard, waiting to be taken to the cellars. Cregan had begun his lessons, and within minutes was already frustrated at the difficulty he had with even just handling the sword, let alone swinging it. She watched from the distance with a frown painting her face as he continued to struggle and bark at the knight he was sparring when he would try to offer his help. After much protest, Cregan finally gave into the offers to get him a wooden sword to wield instead. It was easier for him to handle, however his skill had rusted over with time and lack of use. His frustration became paramount when the young man bested him again, Cregan threw down his sword and stepped forward, grabbing his opponent by the collar.
"Do you wish to humiliate your Liege Lord?! Get out of my sight at once!" he roared in the mans face, causing him to stumble back and retreat from Cregan as quickly as possible.
She sat watching the scene as her own anger began to surface, standing and coming towards Cregan once he'd let the other man go, still breathing heavily and fuming.
"Come with me, now," she growled as she wrapped a firm hand around his good wrist, pulling him along behind her like a toddler being scolded and hauled off for punishment. She thought it best to bring him to their bedchambers as the conversation they needed to have was private.
Once they had entered their shared chambers Cregan immediately started in on his defense, to which she put up a silent palm in his direction, causing his sentence to halt before it finished.
"I can not do this anymore," she said softly, trying to keep her voice level, but to no avail. Placing a hand over her mouth as she began to silently weep, still refusing to look at him.
He softened immediately at the sight of her tears, hating desperately to make her upset. He took a step forward and brought his hand to her cheek, getting her to turn to him. She did not lift her gaze from the floor, sniffling lightly and trying to keep her tears from cascading and overflowing.
"You cannot do what anymore, love?" Cregan asked gently, moving his right hand to place at the back of her neck, and the other moving under her chin. His fingers intertwined into her hair at the back of her head as he tipped her head back slightly using the finger beneath her chin to raise her face to his. Taking another step closer to her he engulfed her in his size, pressed against her body, in complete control. Cradling her head completely in his hands, he moves the hand below her chin to place on her cheek once more.
"What was it, hmm?" he hummed to her, bringing his lips to brush against hers. She had become putty to mold as he wished, letting out a small sigh as he continued to tease the possibility of a kiss.
But in that moment she remembered her anger and could not let the lust for her husband overpower something that was becoming a serious issue between him and the rest of the world. She pushes away suddenly, putting space between them again. Cregan lets out an exasperated sigh as his hands fall to his sides.
"I can not possibly understand the stress you are under, and the constant unease you must feel within yourself. But I can understand how that affects me, and how that has affected our staff and those on your court. You were not slain, Cregan! You still have so much to live for, even if it means you cannot see battle again. That is what your army is for. Your value lies more in your character and not your physical form. Allowing that of which keeps you on solid ground to be the demise of what lies within your head, when you are so intelligent, and kind, and humorous. That is a sin, and the more treacherous of fates to befall a Warden of the North, even more so than a direwolf." She said, silence filled the room as Cregan realized he had no rebuttal. She was right after all, he could have been killed, and the fact he is allowing his mind to destroy what a direwolf couldn't, well it just seemed downright mad.
"I am so sorry, I never saw it that way," he responded softly, his heart feeling some what heavy in his chest as he felt the onslaught of emotion begin to creep up his throat. He had repressed so much in wanting to keep a certain image, and with his own wife being able to see through his facade so clearly, he realized how much pain he was really holding in. With that thought the dam broke as he let out a choked sob, leaning on the back of a chair closest to him he began to fall weak to his emotions.
At the sound of his whimper she turned around again, seeing him holding the bridge of his nose as he wept uncontrollably. Barely keeping himself upright with the back of the chair next to him.
"Oh, my darling," she went to him, quickly gathering him into her arms and bringing him down to kneel on the ground as she sat in the chair he was using for support. With his head tucked to her breast and his arms tightly wound around her body, hands finding purchase in her hair, he finally began to rack with sobs. She just let him collapse into her, stroking the hair from his face, tracing the scar on his temple and kissing his hairline. All the while cooing sweet reassurances into his ear.
"I have you my love, I have you," she whispered into his hair as he began to regain his breath. Not letting her go in the slightest, but relaxing nonetheless, Cregan began to breathe normally again, silent tears still coming from his eyes every now and then.
But he knew he was safe, and above all, he knew he was loved unconditionally.
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“Cregan, we cannot you aren’t healed properly yet,” she breathed out in a sigh as his lips traced the column of her throat.
“Your shoulder… and your ankle, it is too risky,” she tried to protest but the affect he had over her was undeniable.
“I am fine, my love. I am in need of my wife. It has been many moons and I cannot refrain any longer, injuries be damned,” he said, scoffing at the last part of his statement. Her skin was set alight with his touch as she leaned into him more. Laying in their bed, beneath a mountain of furs, he began to move atop of her, but she stopped him.
“If we are to do this, you will not lift a finger, is that clear?” She said firmly, and Cregan’s eyebrows rose in surprise at his wife’s sudden dominance, his cock twitching within his small clothes. He nodded quickly as he moved to lay back against the many pillows, eyes darkening as she rose from the bed to lean back on her heals. Very slowly she removed her shift, revealing the whole of her body to him.
“It is as if you are a goddess yourself, there is no need for religion when you are the alter I pray at, and the deity I pray to,” he whispered as he took in the sight. His mind putting to memory every curve, every inch of skin he laid his eyes on. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen her naked before, but after such restraint it is like they are newlyweds once again. With her help he removed his tunic and small clothes, breath shaky as he looked down upon her naked form crawling up his body.
She was gentle with her touch, ghosting it over the small scars that now cover each of his legs. He shivers at the contact but does not pull away, allowing the sensitivity to wash over him and settle within his groin. He reaches with his good arm to touch her face, but she retracts to his disappointment.
“No touching,” she said with a small smirk forming at the corner of her lips. The mischievous look in her eyes was enough for him to understand it would be better to not protest. Leaning down she places soft kisses across his thighs, moving closer to his stiff member, his hips buck involuntarily as she finally takes his tip into her mouth. Swirling her tongue around the top just before pulling down his foreskin to lick at his sensitive slit.
A groan erupted from deep within his chest, wavering at the end as he gasped and sputtered. She had taken him fully into her mouth at this point, beginning to move up and down his length in a rhythmic motion.
His chest flexed as he threw his head back, his right hand hovering just next to her jaw. Knowing she would stop if he disobeyed her direct instructions, he held himself back from caressing her face. Broken gasps and whimpers were falling unabashedly from the Warden of the North’s lips, his strong, muscled body molding into putty in her hands.
Suddenly she rose and removed her mouth from him, to his disappointment. Breathing hard he kept his eyes on hers as she began to move even further up his body. His brows knitting into one another as he wondered what exactly she was doing, until it clicked, and the biggest smile graced his handsome features. He understood and shifted himself to be fully lying down, moving down the bed slightly to give her room as she moved to take her rightful place on his face. He hummed happily at the sweet taste of her on his tongue once again, having not indulged in his most favorite delicacy in far too long. She let out a sharp gasp as his lips wrapped themselves around her sensitive pearl, sucking lightly before exploring her deeper. She looked down to see his eyes closed and the most blissfully content look upon his face as he continued to ravage her with just tongue. Switching between broad strokes of his tongue along her cunt to small kitten licks upon her clit that had her panting and grinding her hips down onto him. The scruff on his unshaven face added to the sensational feeling against her as he sank his tongue within her finally. Moaning uncontrollably and quite loudly, she found herself leaning against the headboard for support as her body began to give into the pleasure he was bringing her.
“That’s it, my darling. Fall apart for me, I have you,” he coaxed, breath hitting her clit, causing her to groan, which shortly turned into the most obscenely moan. He hooked his left arm around her waist and continued to guide her to completion. With his tongue in her cunt and his nose teasing her clit, she came apart with nothing short of a scream of his name. Throwing her head back as she felt her muscles go limp from the intensity of her orgasm.
“So perfect for me,” he whispers to her, kissing the inside of her thighs softly.
She smiled and breathed out a sigh of relief as she had been just as pent up as he’s been, and finally getting some form of release was euphoric to say the least.
As she moved from his face she could see the way his lips shown with the remnants of her. She looked down to see his cock almost impossibly bigger than when she had first taken him into her mouth. She couldn’t wait any longer, and neither could he. Grabbing ahold of her hips he quickly shifts her down his body back to his waist. The tip catching at her entrance ever so slightly and they both moaned loudly in unison.
With his right hand having an iron grip on her hip, he helped her position her on top of him. As she began to sink down on his length it was as if all the air in the room had suddenly been removed. The sensation punching the air out of her lungs.
Cregan thought he was seeing the gods, his vision almost going completely white as he feels her tight, hot cunt envelope him. Arching his spine while his eyes roll to the back of his head as soon as she is fully seated on him. Staying still for a second to give them both a minute to catch their breath, she regains her strength and begins to shift her hips.
“Touch me,” she commanded softly, he didn’t need to be told twice. He moved to sit up, his forehead resting on her sternum, placing open mouthed kisses between the valley of her breasts before taking one into his mouth. His left arm secures her hips in his hold while the other hand snakes its way into her hair. Grabbing at the roots he tugs her head back to expose more of her neck to him. Laying hot, wet kisses upon any expanse of skin he could reach. As his grip around her waist tightened slightly, he kept guiding her to ride his cock slowly, thrusting up every so often causing her to choke on a moan.
“Cregan…,” she moaned his name, groans continuing to slip from her mouth as he moved to suck on her other breast. Gently lapping at the nipple as she whimpered.
“So gorgeous, my love. So good for me. Taking me so - nnnggh - well,” he grunted out, groaning when she squeezed him as his words sent a shock wave to her core. She threaded her fingers into his chocolate strands, pulling slightly earning another pleased noise from her husband.
“I’ve missed this, I’ve missed us,” she pants, looking down at his face. As he looks up, her breath catches at the sight of her fucked-out husband and his pink cheeks and kiss swollen lips.
“I know, me too,” he responds breathlessly, she cups his face and brings her lips to his. It’s messy, he crushes his mouth to hers and suddenly begins thrusting upwards, hitting that one spot deep within her.
Her gasp causes him to pull away from the kiss, but not from her. Their mouths still close, breathing in each others air as he continues to thrust into her. Tipping his head back as his face scrunches in pleasure and groaning loudly, he then ducks his head into the curve of her neck as his thrusts get more and more sloppy. His right arm still snaked up her back and his hand tangled in her hair to keep her close. She was reaching the precipice of heaven for the second time that evening, and he could tell. The way she began to squeeze him, how she fluttered around him, he knew.
“I know, my love. Give yourself to me,” he begged, whispering the pleas in her ear before kissing the shell of it. With several more thrusts she was coming undone around him, moaning and gasping as she collapses into him. With only several more thrust he too was coming undone in the most beautiful way. Flushed and groaning, he is the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Only moments afterwards, still basking in their post-coital glow, he lays back against the pillows once more. Placing a hand directly over her womb, he mutters something about “seeing her round with child in several moons” and she felt his cock jump within her as he continues to cradle his hands around her lower stomach.
“I can’t wait for you to bare my children, my love,” he states, looking into her eyes with such adoration. Resting her hands atop his she nods.
“I can’t wait to be the mother of your children, I’m sure I will be soon,” she responds, equal adoration radiating off her.
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She missed her moon’s blood the following month, and he was the happiest he had been in a very long time.
Although the feeling never fully returned in his left arm and hand, he had re-learned how to wield Ice with just as much skill as he did before the incident. His ankle and legs did recover after more than a year of rehabilitation, but eventually he no longer walked with a limp.
The gratitude which he felt was immeasurable. Thinking about how many ways his life could have been different if he didn’t have her to keep him sane through the most difficult thing he had ever faced; losing his physical strength and health. Most days feeling as if he couldn’t go on, but then she would be at his side to aid him in whatever he needed. Never wavering in her love or loyalty to him.
He woke every day from then on thanking the old gods and the new for sparing one of their angels to be his wife.
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megistusdiary · 4 months
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Write me vampire arle feeding off of me as I cookwarm her pls and ty, love you aris 🫶
-your axolotl child
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awww, hi !! ♡ of course you can have some more vampire!arle crumbs. sorry it is a bit short, pooks
but hahaha cook-warm...
(nsfw utc - tw transfem!arle, vampire!arle, biting/blood)
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you felt so full, head swimming, heart racing as her teeth stayed buried in your neck. you panted, fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck as you struggled to ground yourself while she fed off you.
the taste of your blood on her tongue was addictive. ever since she had you, nobody else would do. only the taste of you would satisfy her, and you tasted even better when your pretty little pussy was full of her.
she had you on her lap, nestled to her chest, holding your jaw while her other hand held your waist, keeping you secure and snug on her cock. it twitched inside of you every so often, urging you to flutter around her, feeling her moan into your neck.
her fangs slowly pulled away, tongue following the blood leaking out, kissing the puncture wounds and sighing heavily. she tilted your jaw to look at her, eyes blood red as she kisses you, blood-coated tongue sliding over yours.
filthy and messy as it was, it left you wanting more. she kept you still, not letting you bounce on her cock, forcing you to keep her swollen cock nice and warm while she lapped at the trickling blood from your neck, a wicked grin forming at how she tortured you so easily.
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sluttywonwoo · 11 months
Text
monster
vampire!j.ww x f!reader
smut minors dni (blood tw)
you’re not wonwoo’s date tonight, even though he has your blood running through his veins. he can still taste it on his tongue, still feel the way you tightened up around his cock as he sank his fangs into your neck— the brief flashes of memory are enough to make his cock twitch in his pants, enough to make him stare daggers across the room at the guy who isn’t him whispering in your ear.
he doesn’t know if the guy notices his glaring but you definitely do. he sees it in the way your eyes narrow and your lips curl into a smirk.
-
“come with me tonight,” wonwoo panted, licking at the two tiny puncture wounds beneath your jaw.
to his dismay, you shook your head. “i told you, i’m going with someone else. we coordinated our costumes and everything.”
“cancel on him,” he growled.
“i can’t do that again,” you sighed.
“again? how persistent is this asshole? can’t he take a hint?”
“there’s no hint to take. i actually like this one.”
“bullshit.”
“it’s not—” your argument splintered off into a whine as wonwoo started circling your clit with his fingers.
“see? bet he can’t make you feel this good, can he?”
truthfully, wonwoo didn’t want to know the answer even though he asked the question.
“n-not everyone has venom that m-makes you cum,” you pointed out instead of giving an actual answer which tells wonwoo everything he needs to know.
“that’s just a you thing,” wonwoo amended. “vampire venom is pleasurable but it doesn’t always equate to sexual pleasure.”
“ok, well at least he actually wants to be with me— fuck, i’m going to cum.”
and there it was. the real reason you said yes to going with that loser, whoever he was.
wonwoo does want to be with you. he does. it’s just. vampires and their fucking commitment issues. living for centuries and watching everyone you love grow old and pass on without you would make anyone a little cynical, right?
so he let you think what you wanted. it was easier that way. except for times like these.
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carolmunson · 1 year
Text
in a dark, dark room (kas!eddie) (dark)
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inspo from this audio by eyesofsuggestion on reddit.
your boyfriend isn't as he seems. looks like someone else is along for the ride in his earthly vessel, someone you've never met but whose been dying to meet you. tw: 21+ and especially minors dni. this dark fic features dub-con and is not recommended reading for those who are sensitve to dub-con and non-con themes in fanfiction. this fic features: dub-con, blood play, blood drinking, rough p in v sex, choking, name calling, taunting, mocking, light smacking. pretty blatant monster fucking. read at your own risk.
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there is just so much blood.
you lay there, limp, feeling the sheets soak beneath you slowly. warm and thick, staining the floral pattern fabric, turning white roses red with little mercy. he leans down a second time, gasping with need, long tongue sliding over the puncture wounds in your jugular before sinking in again. you cry out, pushing at him desperately, making him growl with frustration when his hands come to hold you down by the bends in your arm. talons that have grown sharp and long bite into your skin with the same sting as his teeth.
"please stop," you choke out, haze gathering at the edges of your vision. you feel the rush of blood pull from your neck while he keeps drinking, breaking away to nose at your jaw and cheek. "please stop," he taunts back, tongue laving over you again, "can't stop, sweetheart. not when you taste so good." you try to brace yourself for his third bite down but it doesn't come. his lower lip drags over your skin, slick with slimy drool while his mouth becomes accustomed to the long fangs growing over his lower gums. he takes a sharp inhale, taking another break from his fill, pushing up on his arms where they hold you at the elbows. he smirks down at you, his pale skin glowing in the moonlight pouring into your room. this was not the eddie you were used to. sweet and mild mannered, always letting you take the lead. he bought you flowers on your second date and dinner on your third. soft and gentle in everything he did, warm to the touch. forehead kisses before bed. desperate for you. but not like this. "what's that face for, huh?" he asks, voice a deep husk, vibrating with something else -- something darker, "scared'a me?"
you nod with a whimper, weak with blood loss. you can feel your hot tears leak down into your hairline, over your ears. "m'gonna die ed," you croak out. "hmm," he hums with a tut, shrugging, "maybe. but you'll be alive for what's next." "well, barely," he smiles, teeth gleaming with blood and spit. he lets go of your arms when he knows you can move them, gouges left in their wake when he does. you aren't sure if there's any more blood left to let out. he shifts above you, pulling you to the edge of the bed when he stands over your broken form. what happened? you think. he'd come over like he always had. you made dinner together, watched creepshow, he complained about work, he told you about a show he had coming up. when you went upstairs tonight it wasn't uncommon for you both to fool around. you're used to him clinging to you, holding you, burying his face in your neck. it was when you heard the rattle of his breath and the flap of leathery wings that your eyes flew open to this -- to some monster.
you look at him now as he towers above you. the puncture in your neck pulses, the scratches on your body sting from when he pulled you down and held you in place when you tried to run away. gripping and grabbing to keep you under him until you succumbed, teeth sinking deep into you. "you miss him, huh?" he asks, the blue of his veins showing up under his tattoos in a maze. he parts your thighs, looking down at your naked core hungrily. his dark eyes flick up, catching yours, "you can't lie, i can hear you in there."
you nod again and it aches, stretching the holes over your veins. "aww, poor thing," he pouts, a finger reaching out to trace along your inner thigh. you shiver at the touch, cold and biting, "he misses you, too."
"who are you?" "i'm who he really is, honey," he coos, "your boy's just a cover. you think he came out of that accident without some screws loose?" you whimper when he touches the seam of your thigh, "at least he picks 'em pretty for me." you look down at your body, splashed with your blood and a sheen of sweat.
"if it makes it easier for your dumb little head to understand," he starts, taloned hand reaching out to smack lightly against your cheek, "let's just say i hitched a ride when he got out of hell."
"and baby," he says, suave and sure, "i've been so patient with wanting to get a taste of you. he's been putting up such a fight trying to keep me away."
you fade in and out, feeling him take your thighs in each of his hands to pull your flush to him. they run up over your hips, sliding over the stickiness on your skin.
"whining about how i eat girls like you for breakfast," he snickers and takes a beat, "actually -- he's not wrong. i do do that."
"but you've been on my mind, sweetheart," he nods, letting go with one hand while he reaches for his cock. your mind races when you see it, thicker than the one you're used to -- monstrous almost, "been really needing a toy to play with on this side."
"and you're just so easy, huh?" he says, brows tilting while he mocks you, "he'd do anything for you. can you do this for him? he knows just how you like it -- i can do that, too."
"eddie--" you rasp, arm weakly reaching up to push his hand away while a fingertip drags through your folds.
"please baby, call me kas," he grins with a smarmy flair, "eddie's my host's name."
"what is it, hm?" he asks, catching your gaze in his, "you don't want it?"
you shake your head no, eyes snapping shut when he drags two claws lightly over your cheek, over the tendon in your neck that he hadn't bitten through. they follow down over your collar bone, down your chest, your rib cage, the touch making your back arch up to him when he applies just enough pressure to make it sting.
his giggle is dark and deep seated in his chest, "i can see what you're thinking. you don't wanna like it -- but it looks like you're just beggin' for it, aren't you?"
his hand grips your hip, the tip of his cock sliding from the top of your slit to the bottom with steady guidance. he slides it again against the slick while it builds, body betraying you while arousal overtakes your fear. in the haze it could still be him, it could still be eddie.
"hm, he likes it when you're on top, doesn't he?" kas laughs haughtily, "loves looking up at you. what's he call you, again? oh that's right -- his goddess, his angel." "that's not how it's gonna go tonight, though, is it?" he asks, fat tip of his cock pushing in between your thighs, "no, you're gonna be my pretty whore. gonna be a good 'n' weak, needy toy for me."
"right?"
tears prick your eyes at the stretch of just his tip, unsure of how the rest of him will fit without ripping you apart. his hands come to your thighs, pushing them up against your sticky chest. you nod slowly, the rest of your body on fire with pain from his previous assault.
"m'gonna split you open," he nods, pushing in slowly while your walls stretch to accomodate him. your back arches with whatever strength you have left, whines and whimpers pouring out of your mouth. his claw sink into the fat of your thighs, blood pooling from the divots and dripping down over the meat of your ass.
"hmm," he hums while he pushes in to the base, "he loves this pussy. i can see why."
kas's thrusts start slow, claws digging into your skin with each slick squelch deep inside you. he leans forward, wings spreading behind him while he picks up a steady speed. his gaze is certain, tawny circles around his eyes making it seem like they're deeper set. he touch his cold, skin chilling you while he presses himself along your body.
"oh he let's you choke him out, huh?" he snickers, eddie's memories flicking through his mind like a rolodex, "he let's you tell him what to do? that's cute."
kas's clawed hand reaches up to curl around your throat, thumb narrowly missing the puncture wounds he left behind. with new leverage his pace quickens, "we're gonna fix that about you."
"you're gonna be," he begins, cock unforgiving in it's relentless punches in and out of you, "my pretty little courtesan -- hmm fuck -- you're gonna do what i say, when i say it. sounds nice, doesn't it?"
you whine, reaching for his wrist, weakly pawing at it before it lays limply by your side. 
"c'mon -- you don't wanna think anymore, do you?" he coos, "just wanna -- shit, yes -- wanna lay there and be my plaything." he readjusts, pushing one leg up so your knee hooks over his shoulder. the angle hits something in you that makes you desperate for more, a whiny moan pouring from your mouth. "oh there she is," he grins, "yeah, that's what you wanna hear huh? locked up and away so i can have you whenever. use you -- breed you." a needy moan escapes again, your body twitching alive while he pumps into you. your hips roll while he does, energy creeping into your veins, warming your skin. you're not sure how, not with all the blood you've lost -- but if this is what it costs to survive, you'd let him use you like this all night. "oh you nasty fucking bitch," he laughs, breaths huffing against your cheek, "dirty fucking girl, letting me all the way in. that’s what you want, huh? to get pumped full’a me? be a blood machine – hm?" "mmm ed, please more," you rasp out, needy for him to go deeper, harder. his grip tightens over your throat, your tongue lolling out in need for more air, "what's my name?" you choke out something inaudible, haze sliding over your vision again while he glares down at you. the pressure increases, blood leaking out from your jugular while he shoves you into the mattress. "huh?! what's my name?" "k-kas," you push out when he loosens his grip. 
"much better, sweetheart," he hums, "much better." he keeps you pinned down tight, cock drilling you into the sticky sheets. his hand creeps from your throat to the back of your head, ripping at your hair to pull you back so you'll face him. he doesn't blink, hard eyes staying on yours while he pummels into you without any signs of relent. he growls and grunts with each roll of your hips to meet his thrusts, almost proud that you're chasing your own pleasure while he takes his. his hard gaze falters when you reach up to run your fingers over his face. the touch is feather light, tracing the edge of his brow bone to the side of his cheek. you know eddie's still in there, you know this is partly him. kas's gaze softens for a moment and you swear eddie is looking back at you. you lean in, aching for a kiss, for something gentle amongst the horrific night you've had so far. "oh no, baby," he whispers, forehead pressing to yours. his ragged breaths mix with the wet squelches of him fucking into you, now as easy as if you've always taken him -- like you're used to his size.
"i don't kiss my toys," he hums, "that’s only for real mates." "and to be honest, sweetheart -- you're too pathetic for that."
your nearly pouty face is delicious to him, the hurt flashing through your mind feeds him as much as your blood has. he ducks down again to lick the dribble from your wounds, his wet tongue slippery over the sweat collecting there while he hovers over you. how can such a cold body make you so warm? "but you're so special to him," he gravels in your ear, "he loves you, doesn't he?"
"y-yeah," you whimper out. "well," he purrs, "that's too bad."
his speed quickens and your breath hitches, his body bends and contorts in a way that's nearly inhuman, fucking deeper and deeper into you with each painful snap of his hips. "you're all mine now," he growls, arm hooking under your waist to lift you up part way. your bottom half floats off the bed with his strength beneath you, so numb with pleasure you can't feel the way his claws dig into you again. you can't feel this teeth sink into your calf while he grinds into you, barely pulling out just to push in again. "m'yours," you squeak out, "m'yours, m'yours, m'yours -- oh god -- fuck, ohmygod fuck -- kas -- KAS." with a sudden burst of energy you reach up while the peak of your orgasm hits like a freight train, tightening hard over his cock. our nails dig into the cold skin of his forearms, over his tattoos, dragging down hard and tight. he sputters and smirks at the stingy pain of your clawing at him, the feeling spurring him on as he fucks you through your writhing release. "just like that," he huffs, droplets of blood flicking from his tongue onto your chest and sternum. his leathery wings tuck in to rest like hooks out of his shoulder baldes while he cages you in against the bed, eyes shut in concentration while he pumps in again, and again. with a final rough tug of your hair you hear and feel his guttural release. the only warmth from him being the sticky seed that he spills inside of you, cold mouth clamping down again on your neck for a final taste before his release comes to a close. you're back to laying limp on the bed. spent. he looks over you, growls and grumbles in his breath, clicking and seething -- this must be his natural state. "well weren't you fun," he grins, sick but sweet, "i'll have to try you again." you whimper, unable to move this time, to think, to breathe. "but i think i you taste better a little scared," he nods, "gotta make sure you forget this so you can struggle like you did tonight. that's -- oh sweetheart, it's just delicious." when your eyes meet his again you can't look away, not that you'd want to -- he's beautiful like this. hair long and brushing his built shoulders, skin so pale it's nearly blue, eyes dark and glittering with angry satisfaction. eddie who? you think. "adorable," he says smugly when he hears it in his head, "don't worry, i'll let that pathetic weakling have you back. he's miserable in here right now." you don't know if it's hyponosis or the exhaustion from losing so much of your blood supply, but sleep comes quickly -- fading out while he holds your gaze, words you don't understand filling your ears and thoughts -- latin maybe? you couldn't guess. you're just so comfortable. so tired. and the bed is so soft, so warm. you have to sleep, right? you've been asleep this whole time.
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you wake up in the morning feeling tired, mouth dry and tangy. your joints ache, your stomach rumbles. you look over on your nightstand to two empty bottles of wine, two empty glasses next to them. when you sit up you look down, seeing that half of one of those bottles never made it to your lips -- your stained sheets shine back a purple red in your eyes. with a groan you turn over, sinking back into the covers, feeling the warm body of your boyfriend next to you. his dark curly hair pulled up in a ponytail, splayed across the pillow. the night is hazy: dinner, creepshow, wine, kissing. when you both got upstairs you were tipsy -- you vaguely remember the spill of the wine, the drunk giggles, the way his mouth tasted like aged cabernet. both falling asleep before you could take it any further. he stirs next to you, smiling when he sees you with a rub of his eyes. "morning, angel," he says in a yawn. "morning," you sigh, running a hand over your neck to rub at the muscles there -- aching and tense. "you okay?" he asks, turning over to face you, two fingers tracing over your cheek. "yeah just -- i think i slept weird," you shrug, "i'm definitely hung over." eddie laughs, "me too."
"we didn't -- we didn't fool around last night, right?" you ask, "we both knocked out pretty early." "i remember spilling the wine and then both of us saying we'd deal with it in the morning," he sniffs before stretching out, "and then i think i fell asleep in the wine stain." you giggle, feeling his arms wrap around you. warm body against yours, he kisses you soft on the forehead, "you look pretty." "thank you," your sleepy smile makes him smile back. "you know what i'm in the mood for?" he asks, "such a weird craving but they knock a hangover right out of me." "hm?" "a bloody mary," he says with raised brows, like he's surprised with himself, "i think i got some stuff downstairs to make them." "i'm not really into bloody mary's," you say with a scrunched nose. he offers you another kiss on the forehead before slowly climing out of bed. he shrugs looking down at you, pulling on his abandoned pair of boxers from yesterday, "hm, suit yourself. more for me then." when he snaps the band at his hips, you notice it. even sets of scrapes down his forearms toward his watch, your brow quirks, "hey, what happened to your arm?"
he looks down, and at first you think you catch a flicker of a smile before it turns into a confused frown, "weird...i don't know, sweetheart." he looks at both arms all the way around before turning to look at you, almost coolly, "maybe we did fool around."
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mamayan · 1 year
Note
20, 92, 52, 99
Could you do this with Douma and a fem reader pretty please? Also very many congratulations!
Bang! … No bullet was shot—
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Douma
“You’re pathetic, you know that right?” || Taste of Iron || Size || Praise/Worship
tw: NSFW • Biting (Blood play) • Rough Sex • Corruption K!nk • NONCON • Douma doesn’t stfu • Bondage
wc: 1086
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“Ah~ really though, there’s nothing more wonderful than when you’re like this for me,” his voice was a soothing purr as he trails one cold hand up the smooth expanse of your thigh.
Luminescent rainbow eyes gazed down at your fragile figure tied and helpless. A pretty silk gag knotted and slotted into your mouth prevents any retorts.
“My most naughty little follower, are you enjoying this?” He wasn’t truly asking to hear your answer, more fixated on how much he was enjoying this. He could feel it, the blood and vitality rushing through your veins as adrenaline pumped and kept you acutely aware of every touch he placed on you. The fear and clarity in your gaze which the majority of his cult never figured out until it was far far too late.
You saw something you weren’t supposed to, and sadly, that meant you couldn’t be allowed to separate and mingle without him.
Tears flow down your cheeks as you struggle, bound and powerless under the beautiful male.
He was a fraud. A liar. A monster.
None of it mattered now, not when he’d sunken his claws too deeply into your family and friends to save them. You couldn’t even save yourself it seemed.
“Don’t cry sweet thing~ I’m not going to eat you~” yet, his smile was disarming, blatantly lying to your pretty face as he coos and hushes you.
“You’ve always been my favorite, you know? It makes me so sad to think about harming you, so we’ll do something else instead, okay~♡?” The cute way he spoke didn’t match Douma’s large body as he discarded his top, muscular unblemished figure on display.
He easily settled between your spread thighs, enjoying the view of your dripping pussy while you silently begged for mercy. “Such a shame I had to muffle your cute voice…” he laments to himself, nuzzling your soft inner thigh with his face and enjoying the texture of your skin. “I kind of want to hear you scream for me but, oh well,” he gives no warning before his sharp teeth are sinking into the flesh of your thigh, your pained squeal silenced by the fabric stuffed into your mouth. Douma delights in the blood and mark on your body, his mark, as he laps up the small rivers leaking from the puncture wounds he’d given. “Shh, no need to cry, I just wanted a taste,” he giggles, beautiful blonde hair falling into his eyes as he looks down at his handiwork. His large hands shift, moving to your exposed cunt where he uses two fingers to spread your folds and reveal your small wet hole.
“I just knew you’d like this~!” You flinch away from the image above you, his lips stained with your blood, sharp canines on display as he grins.
He pays no mind to your repulsion, soon you’d come to like the blood as he did, he just needed to show you why it all felt so good.
“Y/N, sorry, I’ll prepare you much better next time, but I want to see you bleed a little more me, yeah? You’ll be a good girl won’t you?” Douma ignores the shake of your head, the clear useless struggle you attempt against your bindings. Instead, he loosens his belt and allows his pants to drop past his upper thighs, releasing his hardened cock.
“I promise it’ll feel good after a bit, just be patient.” He assures, voice so calm and patient compared to your panic and trembling body. “Your pussy is so cute Y/N, tiny like you, it might hurt a bit.” You imagine it’s going to hurt more than a bit as he lines himself up with your quivering unprepared entrance. The thick blunt head pressed and kissing you, pre-cum leaking freely from his tip, the only lubricant he’s offering as he presses forward.
You jerk, unable to voice the pressure overwhelming you as he takes you, mind going hazy with the burn and sensations forced upon you.
“Oh my, hng,” his head goes back, muscles tensing and flexing as he moans. “This hole is pretty naughty too, hm?” He gasps, voice strained for the first time all evening, “You’re so tight, it’s like you're sucking me in.”
He laughs when he realizes you’re nearly passed out, sweet features languid and drool soaking through the gag as you whine deep in your throat. He doesn’t stop, thick cock spearing you open as he rocks and slicks himself up with your arousal and blood from his initial cruel entrance.
“My cute little follower, it’s almost like you’re worshiping my cock now right? Isn’t it a dream come true for you?” He’s gleeful as he begins dragging along inside of your walls, rocking you with how heavy each thrust is. He delights in your struggle to resist, but it’s clear you’re falling quickly to the feeling of fullness and pleasure as your passage becomes wetter with each slap of his pelvis against you.
“Good girl, you don’t need to do a thing, just feel good for me.” You don’t have a choice as he fucks you sensesless, eyes rolling back as you cum around him with a silent shout. His hips don’t stop, only his moans and nails digging into your hips increase while he works himself deep and hard into you, savoring the scent of iron in the air while blood smears on his lower half and cock.
“Ah, you came right? How cute,” he coos, loving your cock drunk appearance juxtaposed to your earlier fear and revulsion of him. “You’re pathetic, you know that right? Do you still want me to stop?” He chuckles, hand reaching up and untying the gag, pulling the dripping wad of fabric out of your mouth. “Answer me quickly, do you still want me to stop?” He asks, voice deepening as he rams the head of his cock against an area that has you wailing.
“L-Lord Do-Douma please—!” He twists one of your nipples harshly, loving the pretty arch your back makes as you clench and spasm around him again.
“That’s not an answer~” he coos, your pretty eyes unfocused as you drool and babble after your orgasm.
“Don’t—! Don’t stop! Fuck me! Please!” You’re quick to lose yourself, pleasure consuming you as he rocks you on his cock and thumbs your clit with a smug grin.
“That’s what I thought,” he chuckles, glad he doesn’t have to kill you earlier than he’d planned.
You are his favorite after all.
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Post dividers/@cafekitsune
@desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi
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theavianlady · 2 months
Text
...tw? Tw.
TW: Gore, Blood, Injury, uh...Pain and Sadness-
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@psychologicalwarclaire
Ha ha! Tis I! I was the anon!
(Cue dramatic exclamations of disbelief)
Ahem. Tis the anniversary of Spider's Web with Strings Attached, and I wanted to make something! Go and read the fic if you haven't already; it's incredible.
Lots of ramblings and other versions under the cut (if anyone wants to see any other parts with or without different lighting and stuff that I didn't include, just let me know; I'm happy to share).
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This is the first (almost) completely original thing I've drawn digitally! Poses are really hard for me, so I'm super proud of this. No tracing, only references!
...so. Many. References.
Except for the bricks, which I'm not counting, because bricks are scary. And the chains. I used a brush. Chains are scary too.
I started July 28th, and then spent almost 40 hours across various canvases planning, experimenting, and actually working on this. Not including research. It took me absolutely forever, but I regret nothing.
Except for the fact that I spent over 6 hours just shading bricks. I didn't even draw them! I took a pattern for the grooves from google and filled it with black, (rotated and edited for some variance in their cells), and then did the red lighting and some shadows you can't even really see. For 6 hours.
I tried to draw their spider brooches many times, but I could not get them to look right (especially from a side angle), so I gave up. Let's all just pretend they're there until I come back later. Eventually. Maybe. Oh, and Leo's chains. At the time of posting, I really just want to get this up and posted, so they're not shaded, but again, I might do it later.
I wanted to have this set when they're both in their separate cells, right after Viper was, uh...in the cell with Leo. So, Donnie is all stitched up and healing, while Leo is...not doing great (not certain about the timeline, because I'm paranoid about everything, so it's probably fine). But, I wanted to convey what happened to Donnie, so I drew that weird glowing spine thing to indicate some kind of mystic healing something. I don't even know.
It didn't turn out as well as I wanted it too, but I'm probably biased. Because there was so much gore on Leo's side, Donnie's looked boring. I couldn't figure out how to do the lighting. The values could be better. It could do with more time spent on the shadows. Etc, etc. I'm a perfectionist.
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Uh, in order of posting, behold!
1. Big version.
2. Big version without lighting (except on the bricks) or Japanese characters.
3. Close up of magic spine representation thing because I'm proud of it.
4. Close up of gore-covered-Leo because I'm also proud of that. I have never drawn such...messy gore before.
Fun fact, the group of layers all of that was on is called "Bad Stuff".
5. Close up of Donnie's shell stitches without the spine thing, because I worked hard on those. It was also pretty tricky, because I couldn't find any references for large stitched wounds. Only open ones. If anyone knows any good places for references like that, t'would be greatly appreciated.
Also, they don't usually stitch puncture wounds, because it could trap infection, but I feel like with something so large and deep as dragon teeth it would be necessary? So I tried to include those.
But also, would they just stitch the skin in such deep wounds? Is there still a gaping hole under the skin? Do they also stitch muscles with the dissolvable sutures or something? I'm like, going to go to med-school just so I can draw more accurate wounds and stitches and stuff.
6. Close up of Leo without the gore because he's pretty and I'm really proud of the plastron. And the right forearm armour piece. I couldn't get the other ones to look as nice, much to my dismay.
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The Japanese characters write out to Omae wa hitoribocchi da, which translates to You are alone. I think. Google Translate says it's You are all alone, but translation services that I trust slightly more, like Reverso.net and ChatGPT (the most reliable of sources, I know) just say You are alone.
Omae is the equivalent of anata, for those familiar with Anata wa hitori janai. They both mean you, but omae is more...condescending, from what I can tell. Informal and rough, often used to express disdain or superiority.
Wa indicates that anata or omae are the subject of the sentence.
Hitori is present in both, meaning alone, though from what I can see, hitoribocchi is more...desolate and painful. It's a more emotional term for being alone.
Janai kind of means is not, or are not, while da is just like...closing the sentence. A firm, declarative ending particle.
I tried to paste the actual Japanese characters from different translation services (I am not fighting with using a keyboard from another language), but Tumblr wouldn't let me. Boo. So, you can all suffer with my English-Japanese. Also, don't trust anything I say. I'm learning Japanese on Duolingo, but I've only just started and it gets way more complicated. So, pretty much anything I just said could be wrong. I just did a lot of research.
If anyone does speak Japanese, and knows a better way to convey this, please tell me. I crave knowledge and accuracy.
I should get like, a personal human translator. No AI or program can truly understand a language like its people. Especially comparing Japanese and English. From what I've learned, there are a lot of words that could be translated many ways, depending on exact feel. It's complicated, and I'm scared to get farther into Duolingo's course.
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I also just discovered yesterday that today is also the anniversary of the Rise Movie, so yay! Happy Anniversary to the movie that literally changed my life. And Curly, you're awesome. It's authors like you keeping this fandom alive, so thank you!
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0rgan1c · 3 months
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Vampire Y/N x Bakugo
I RANDOMLY AT LIKE 4 AM GOT THIS IDEA CUZ MY MHA OC HAS A VAMPIRE ISHH QUIRK INVOLVING BLOOD
YHIS IS GONNA BE A RLLY SHORT ONE TOO CUZ IM KINDQ BAD AT THIS BUT ILL WRITE MORE IF IT BLOWS UP MAYBE
OH BTW TW FOR BLOOD CUZ YK VAMPIRES OR WTV AND A BIT OF SEXUAL TENSION BUT NO SEGGS
I’m not sure if vampire blood sucking is like kinky or sum but TW anyways cuz you never kno💀
Bakugo def has to be a secret Twilight fan in this fic cuz no sane person would do what he’s doing😭
BTW THIS SONG IS KINDA THE VIBBEEE
This wasn’t the way you wanted him to find out.
This wasn’t the way you wanted anybody to find out.
Seeing you scarfing down food in the dorm kitchen in order to fill the insatiable hunger that was so agitating; like an itch that needed to be scratched. Your eyes glowed red in the night of the kitchen, only light being from the illumination of the refrigerator.
You hadn’t even noticed in the middle of your indulgence that your hot-tempered classmate had been standing around the corner, frozen in what seemed to be a mix of confusion and fear.
“ Y/N?”
That was the scene that led you to feeling almost suffocated as you explained the full extent of your quirk, the anxiety of it all making you hesitant with your choice of words. Bakugo I stared at you silently with a deadpan look on his face.
“… so due to my quirk I can expel and control any and all blood around me. The drawback is-“
“ You crave it? Like a vampire or something?” Bakugo interrupts
“ Basically”
You both went silent for a bit as he processed the information you just told him.
“ Does it… hurt you? Like- to not be able to have blood.”
You were shocked by the fact that he even showed concern and curiosity for your well being.
“ Kind of”
Silence
“ Do you want some of mine?”
As you awkwardly straddled the blonde boy on top of your bed, you tried to map out a place to bite that wouldn’t hurt him so much. As your breathe ghosted over his shoulder, you felt his body tense under you as his heart pounded.
“… you really don’t have to do this if you don’t want to-”
“ I want to.”
The curt yet caring response left you a bit speechless. This was completely out of character for the hot-headed, rude, selfish boy you had class with; or- at least that’s what you thought before the conversation you had with him. Your mouth hovered over his should and chomped down just hard enough to break skin. The metallic taste hit your mouth as you swirled your tongue around the punctured a skin, the taste taking over your senses. The feeling made your brain mush and all you could focus on was the pleasure that overcame you.
You hadn’t even noticed how his heart had seemed to slow down.
You hadn’t noticed until you looked up at him- the hazy look in his eyes and the blush on his ears that was almost unnoticeable. You stared up at his expression as you licked the remaining blood off the wound, making eye contact with him before having him break it a few seconds later as a faint blush tinted his face. You position yourself in front of him and gazed at him. The way the usually aggressive boy avoided eye contact with you was endearing.
“ Look at me.” You softly commanded
Before he even noticed the sultry look in your eyes, your lips had already crashed onto his. He grasped your hip to steady you on top of him with one hand, and cupped your face with the other as he hungrily deepened the kiss. He kissed you with such intensity, savoring every moment as if he’d been waiting to do this; It was intoxicating.
You both pulled away to catch your breaths as his thumb gently caressed your hip.
As you both panted, he grabbed your face with his free hand and muttered-
“ More”
BRO I WAS UP TILL 9:39 WRITING AND PLOTTING TS OUT💀💀
I hope y’all like ittt🌝
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