#// i hope it tags u properly :weary:

[shecharm]

SHE MOVES QUIETLY. All that is needed to make her existence known is the gentle tap of a small cardboard box against the table. A little cake was seen inside the box through a thin plastic cover. White, cloud-like frosting is placed on top. She gives an inviting smile before cocking her head. "Would you like to share?"

━━━━━━ * / ( @7hell ) ♥ *

[wolftoken]

fangs • iv x vampire reader

a/n: for @ghostlygothicgay i hope u like it :3

word count: 1241 • tags: male reader, vampire reader, grinding, blood sucking, bloodplay, handjobs, messy (bloody) blowjob, kissing, cumming together, cum eating

• masterlist •

you weren’t sure about this the first time he had mentioned it. you’d only bitten a handful of people before and those were urgent situations for you. but IV was so obsessed with your fangs. every time you kissed him his tongue would find them immediately, every time you laughed his eyes were focused on how sharp they looked. he liked a bit of pain, and you indulged him with choking, spanking, sometimes he wanted you to slap him. but most of all he wanted to bite him. of course, he respected your feelings about the topic, never pushing too far when he asked for it and always reassuring you that if you hurt him too much he’d tell you. he trusted you to stop and you trusted him to not let you go too far. so, one rainy evening you were over at his place for dinner and a movie when you found yourself straddling his lap and grinding against each other.

his hands grip your hips as you kiss him deeply, your own hands working to yank his shirt off as he’d done with your clothes. both of you were left in your boxers as you pulled away from the kiss to look at him properly.

“IV, you gotta be good and not move too much if you want my fangs in your neck,” you tell him, weary of the risk of hurting him more than he wanted. his eyes go wide as he realises you’re finally gonna bite him. his smile is infectious as he nods eagerly and you can’t help but chuckle softly at him.

“i’ll be good, i’ll be so good for you, i promise,” IV begs with shiny eyes. you can’t deny him any longer, he just looks so delicious with that wild look and his desperate hands that dig into your skin. moving one hand to cup his jaw, you place the other on his shoulder and press wet kisses to his soft skin. his brows are furrowed and you can tell he’s trying real hard to control his breathing. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so excited before.

grazing his pretty throat with your fangs, you let your eyes close as you sink your teeth into him. the taste of his blood in your mouth is perfect - rich and fulfilling and you think if this was the only thing you could taste for the rest of your life you’d die happy. you moan into his skin and you buck up against him involuntarily; both of you hard beyond belief. IV pulls your hips down even closer to his and you slot against each other perfectly. he’s whining in your ear and he sounds so pretty and desperate as you lap up the dark crimson liquid that flows from his veins.

before you can notice, IV’s hand finds it’s way between your bodies to sneak into your boxers and gently stroke your cock. his spit-coated fingers make you groan wildly as they move over you and your hand on his jaw moves to his other shoulder so you can grip him tighter. his movements are delicate and slow, remembering what you told him about moving but wanting to make you feel good at the same time. you pull away from his neck and he whines, looking up at you with the most beautiful pleading eyes and parted lips. smiling with blood-coated lips, you watch the way a few stray drops of blood trickle down his soft chest.

a pleasing idea enters your head and you gently take both his hands off of you so you can move to kneel down in front of him. you can see in his eyes how he just wants you to climb back up and sink your teeth in him once more, but you have to let him recover from the first time. so you give reassuring kisses to his thick thighs, moving your hands up to drag his boxers down his legs and onto the floor. his cock springs out, aching and desperate for you, and his eyes widen when you stick your tongue out only for you to bypass his dick and go straight for the half-dried blood trail on his stomach. moaning in both pleasure and slight despair, he watches the way your fangs glisten in the low light and his blood is lapped up by your tongue. you’re slow with it, savouring the taste and the way his plush skin feels in your mouth.

you’re half way done when you remember his cock is still awaiting attention, so you gather a mix of spit and blood in your mouth and let it drip down onto him. IV gasps when you bring your hand up to stroke him, and you watch his face contort in pleasure as your fingers glide up and down his cock. moving faster, you give special attention to his leaking tip which makes him keen and arch his back against the couch cushions. he looks down at you and you tell he’s close to cumming.

“fuck, wait. wanna- wanna cum together, please?” he asks, and you smile fondly at him and take your hand off him. as you move to straddle his thighs again, his hands smooth up and down your waist appreciatively. he knows that your decision to drink from his was a hard one and he’s so thankful you let him experience it. when you’re settled in his lap, he wastes no time and gently pulls your cocks to together. he’s messy, covered in spit and blood and he’s never looked better. face flushed and hair sticking up every which way with sweat, you can’t resist pushing your lips onto his as his hand work over the both of you. grinding onto him, he swallows every one of your moans gratefully and you take his just as appreciatively. you’re both worked up and it doesn’t take long before the knot in your core feels like it’s close to snapping and judging by IV’s expression and noises he feels the same.

“you gonna cum, pretty boy? wanna see all that red and white mixed together all pretty?” you ask him breathlessly, and all he can do is nod and whine for you desperately, barely able to think about much more than how your cock feels against his own.

“fuck, please, want you to cum with me,”

“i will, baby. i’m gonna cum all over you, shit, you’re so good at this IV-“

you’re cut off by the both of you moaning loud enough that you’re sure the neighbours hear you. you look down just in time to watch IV spill all over your stomach and his fist as your load covers his cock. both of you are dripping down to his thighs and probably staining the couch cushions but that’s the last thing your mind focuses on as you watch his parted lips when he’s panting for air. grabbing his hand from between you, your bring it up to your mouth and slowly lick your collective spend from his fingers. it makes him moan in disbelief and you smile mischievously.

“don’t do that again, you’ll make me hard,” IV smiled at you, and you of course you lick another stripe off him.

“then let’s go to your room; blood stained sheets are probably better than blood stained couch cushions.”

you’ll never get over the way his pupils dilate for you.

[amoristt]

Alive | König/Reader

anon: hello i see u do requests for mw2 now! can i request konig being sent on a hostage rescue mission, and when he gets there he finds of them is his partner (reader), who went MIA months ago and was presumed dead?

a/n: i hope you like it! sorry if the german is wrong i had to use google translate gffjhdgjfh

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)! it also helps motivate me!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

want to support me? heres my kofi!

Besides the frequent chatter of voices emerging from the radio on his tactical belt, there is a cold silence that blankets the halls König travels down. Years spent training in the force had taught him well to be light on his feet despite his size, eyes focused on every micromovement in front of him. A rat scurries from a pile of crates on the floor and into a vent. Flies gather at the swinging lamps overhead. It feels like the hallways are endless. 

“König, position?” A voice rings from the device. He offers a short response. 

“West wing.”

“Anything yet?”

“Nein.”

Faintly, voices echoed down corridors. He’d entered the base like a ghost in the night, and mowed down every enemy that stood in his way. This was his specialty, after all, and this wasn’t his first rodeo in gutting out the base of human traffickers. However, this was the first time in a long time. The last time he’d been sent to a hostage rescue, there were… issues. He remembered it almost all too clearly. The worst night of his life thus far.

You’d gone in first despite his protests, and that was it. He had been too far away, minutes behind you. Moments later the building was up in flames, with your poor soul trapped inside. König hadn’t known peace since that moment, an ocean of turmoil overtaking him. The sight of glowing embers raining down over him as he stood, helpless, on the sidelines.

You’d been presumed dead the moment the monumental flames could have practically knocked at heaven's door.

Even despite his rank, his team had to damn near peel him away from the scene. Never had he felt pain like that in his entire life.

Until, the next morning, that was. When his weary eyes opened to see nothing but his dull ceiling, and he realized the night before hadn’t been some awful nightmare. 

It took weeks for him to regain enough composure to properly work again. But, in some ways, he felt like he never left that night. Sometimes he felt he was still there- staring up at the monstrous glowing flames and fighting to not think about how you spent your last moments.

After months, he'd agreed to another rescue mission. Perhaps a win, perhaps saving someone, may put some of his demons to bed.

He passes doors upon doors, all blown wide open as evidence of men fleeing his approach. Scattered papers line the floors, chairs knocked to their sides. Window's thrown open with little care.

One door, however, gathers his attention almost instantly. The way it was shut tight with a deadbolt locked on practically begged for him to investigate. He reaches out and makes quick work of breaking the metal bolt, hearing the metal clatter to the floor. Tentatively, he twists the knob and shoves it open, weapon ready to fire. Inside, a cluster of women gather in the far corner, eyes as wide as owls, fingers all clutching each other in fear. 

“I’ve found them,” He says into his radio, taking a head count. “Three of them. West wing, fifth door to the left.”

“Intel says there’s a fourth.” Comes back the answer, and he frowns, peering through his mask to recount. “We’re sending in reinforcements.”

König lowers his weapon cautiously and counts again, just in case. Just as before, it’s three women, all frightened beyond belief. He steps to the side and motions for them to exit the room, knowing his teammates were bounding towards the room and would be able to lead them to the safety of their vehicles outside. As they filter past him one by one, he doesn’t miss the glance one of them takes towards the closet at the other end of the room before darting into the hall. Quietly, he takes steps towards it, lifting his weapon. He could practically sense a presence from within, eyes narrowed, creeping closer and closer. 

Without even bothering to demand the person inside to come out, he grasps the door and tears it open, his gun pointing directly inside, his hulking figure shadowed by the ceiling lamp behind him. The flashlight on his gun beams over a figure inside. The person’s hands are over their face to escape the blinding light. He could see purple bruises on their elbows, finger marks on their biceps.

The fourth hostage. 

“Go on. Go.” He says quickly, lowering his gun. He expects the hostage to turn tail and run, rip past him and scurry down the trashed halls to their freedom. But, instead, they lower their hands, big eyes gaping up at him. His heart nearly seizes as he makes out the person's features.

“König?” Your voice is a strange version of soft. Afraid, confused, relieved. You’re frozen in place, holding your hands to your chest, as if you can’t believe the sight before you. As if you can't believe it’s really, truly. him.

But it is. 

König’s actions move faster than the speed of his thoughts. His gun is slung behind his shoulder, his hands find your arms and he’s pulling you out from the confines of your hiding spot. His mind is reeling, his fingers shake, he can’t hear anything other than his heartbeat and the soft sounds you make as he practically crushes you against him. Time stands still for a moment. The flickering yellow of the hanging light pauses. He breathes into your hair and the scent of you almost has him losing his composure. There isn’t even time for tears to gather in his water lines when he squeezes his eyes shut and clutches you to him, so close, afraid if he lets go you’ll disappear all over again. 

“Du bist lebendig, du bist lebendig.” The desperation in his voice is more than apparent. He can barely even think. “I thought I lost you, meine Liebe, Ich dachte, du wärst tot.” 

German spills from his lips in a warble, all the little things he’d thought he’d never get to say to you again. His lungs heave as he rambles, feeling your arms wrap around him. He’s sure his words are barely even meeting your ears, but he doesn’t care. 

From his belt, his radio calls out to him. Two voices now, both demanding to know his current position and why he hadn’t been answering. He has to force himself to pull away from you to answer, and it nearly hurts as you leave his embrace, his voice harsh and shaky.

“I’ve found ___,” He remarks frantically, his free hand clutching your shoulder. “She’s alive, mein Gott, she’s here.” 

“___?” A male voice chirps over the line. "She's alive?"

König breathes, nods as if they can see him. His hand flattens over your back and tugs you back into him. “Ja, I’ve got her. Coming back now." He presses his lips to your head through the thin fabric of his mask. “I’ve got you.”

He nestles his radio back into its place and wastes no time scooping you into his arms. He knows his hold is almost too tight, likely uncomfortable against the severe amount of bruising littering your body, but he couldn't help himself. You were right there. Alive. 

Alive, and clinging to him like he was your lifeline, like if you didn’t wrap your fingers around whatever you could manage to grasp, he’d drop you and you’d fall back into that awful place. He rushes down the halls with a newfound urgency, frantic to leave this horrible place as a memory. Frantic to get you back to where you belong. 

König could feel you peering up at him, taking in the intensity of his eyes as he used his shoulder to shove open the door to your freedom. The cold outside bites at him, but he welcome the feeling, the dirt shifting under his large boots and he picks up pace. 

“I’ve got you.” He says again, into the crisp air, and he feels you nod quickly, surely unable to find the energy to respond. In the distance he can see the calvary waiting for him. The hostages were loaded into a larger buggy while he took to a smaller vehicle. His lungs heave as he runs with you, heart thrashing in his large ribcage. His teammate throws open the door of the vehicle and he’s quick to load you inside. You limply lean against him as he settles in beside you, arm wrapped tight around your shoulder to keep you up right. With a yank, he rips his gloves him his hands, presses his palms into your skin to feel you, really feel you.

Even with your bruises, even when your marks and scrapes, you're just as soft as he remembered. You're everything he remembered. Everything he thought he'd never get to have ever again.

As you look up at him, he blinks down at you with misty eyes. His fingers pull hair from your face and tuck the strands behind your ears. When you smile at him, König feels a boulder lodge itself in his throat. Try as he may to gag it down, his efforts are fruitless, and he bumps his forehead against yours. 

The tears he’d been running from bite at the corners of his eyes as the vehicle rolls to the a start. You let your body relax against him, his head falling back against the headrest, bare fingers petting over your skin. 

It's over, you're safe. He has you.

He kisses the top of your head as the vehicle roars down the open road, and billows of dirt clouds obscuring your prison before it disappeared all together under the night sky.

[estellaelysian]

Extra from the potentially romantic prompt list please and thank u ❤️ Your work is amazing!

Thank you for this ask anon! I had so much fun writing this 🥰💖

[ EXTRA ] : sender buys an extra coffee/snack/etc. to give to receiver.

From this prompt list - feel free to leave some asks

Black Coffee

On a snow swept January morning, Ethan Ramsey stood by Derry Roasters bright and early in the hopes of getting a coffee on the way to work because his own machine was broken. Unfortunately though, as his luck could have it, the café was closed. He wished for some alternative, because mornings without coffee were especially tedious. But there seemed no other way.

Defeated, he started his trek toward Edenbrook hospital which stood in the distance, her lights twinkling away as she looked down upon the follies of hectic urban life. No matter what changed around her, she stood just as she did a few years ago, unbending to the modern standards, watching millions like him pass by every day. That’s why Edenbrook felt like home. It was unlike the more temporary things he had witnessed, and that is what he liked the most about medicine. It was permanent and evolving. It was always there for him when he needed it.

Fractured light, choked with swirling flurries filled the small alleyway that he usually used to get back to the hospital. When he went back, he’d have to deal with interns, fight against his desires when Alishka stood in front of him, but now, he still had his sanity at his disposal. Perhaps the best way to go about the day would be to ignore her altogether instead of having the much impulsive warm conversations on a snowy day. He could just hand her the charts right off in the morning, or leave them in the diagnostics office and find refuge in his own. The muted longing had to go away and not make an appearance. It would break them altogether someday.

He couldn’t believe he was actually thinking of ways to avoid his favorite intern. She was so clever, so thoughtful, and yet … it was almost poetic. He didn’t want to do this, at all, but a very stoic sentence was tattooed in his brain from the days of his childhood days.

He had been arguing with Alan about not going to school a few days after Louise had left. He didn’t want to go to school and talk to his friends on see himself in their pitiful glances or deal with it altogether. But Alan had said, ‘We all have to do things we don’t want to. That’s what growing up’s all about.’

Maybe it was true, he didn’t know. He did go to school that day, and every day after, but those words stuck. It felt awful to use them in a situation which was so ironic, so odd, with so many unsatisfying endings that it seemed fucked up.

But that was what growing up was all about.

His hands stiffened at his sides, and he curled his fingers in a fist to keep them warm. Edenbrook was merely a few steps away. He would soon be in his office and warmth. Perhaps to concentrate his mind while it was tearing him in so many directions, or perhaps just because he found some comfort in planning his time properly, he thought about all that he had to do today. He made a list and repeated it to himself silently. Little flakes kept landing down on him which he had to brush off again and again. Walking through the dreadfully cold snow seemed oddly comforting to him today.

Muffled footsteps voiced themselves behind him, boots working their way through the snow. He was wary of looking over his shoulders, but he resisted the caution. Who could it be? Probably someone from the hospital staff, or perhaps some stranger entirely, and how did it matter at all? Shaking his head, he kept trudging through the development, only to hear a very familiar voice behind him.

‘Doctor Ramsey!’ she called out.

#

Her hair were probably peppered with snow now, she thought, as she chased him down the alley. There was no logical reason for her to follow him, and she could bet he would argue there wasn’t, but she couldn’t help herself. She had noticed him standing outside Derry Roasters and then walking away in a dreadful expression, one that was usually reserved for the interns. The other interns. She knew what it was like to start a day without coffee, and she wouldn’t want that to happen, perhaps to anyone, which is why she had ordered and extra coffee at the café just across the street from Derry.

She didn’t care if he thought it was ridiculous coffee. It was still better than nothing.

‘Here,’ she said, handing him he Styrofoam cup. ‘I got you a coffee.’

At first, he just looked at her, bewildered. What is so surprising, she wanted to ask, but held off her question, just staring at him. He looked somewhat tired. Weary. But his blue eyes were still the same, vibrant and full of warmth and intelligence.

She let her gaze drop to her feet.

Caught in the trap of looking and yet not wanting to acknowledge it. Perhaps he didn’t want to see her at all.

Ethan took the coffee from her, thankfully, for she wished desperately to be not embarrassed anymore. As his fingers brushed her, she kept reminding herself that he was her employer, nothing more. Giving it too much importance would lead her astray. No matter how much they were in each other’s orbit, this meant nothing, as he had made abundantly clear. They were just … colleagues. Not even. Just look away, she told him sourly in her own mind. Employer, she repeated to herself. She needed the safety of her single bed. She needed to steer clear of headaches. She had work to do.

‘Thank you,’ he said gruffly, before falling in beside her silently. She had not anticipated that they would walk to the hospital together. Now everything was in slow motion, everything happening under water. She felt nauseous.

It took them ten good minutes to walk to the hospital which would, in normal circumstances take only five minutes.

Elsewhere in the city, other lives and conversations were unfolding.

But they were on their way to the hospital, walking in absolute silence. It wasn’t much was it? It was just coffee.

Their splendor walk in the snow-caked alleyway was complete. It was time she took her leave. Say nothing and just walk away, that is what she did. But his baritone voice made her stop again.

‘Rookie, you didn’t have to do that. But you did. So thank you.’

She didn’t turn around to face him. Just nodded and left, feeling the gaze of those summer blue eyes still on her.

It was as if she was running the snow of the Atlantic, running free and wild while no one watched. Where nothing mattered. Where she and Ethan could still make it. Live a few hours of peace and warmth and die while the universe went on without them.

#

This was honestly so much fun to write, so Thank u all for reading it ❤️

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