#☆⌒(＊＾∇゜)v

[blue-lollipops-and-ice-clouds]

IV.

Messe Chemnitz November 16th, 2024

(Source - the brilliant _hijackheaven)

[koishiro]

A dinner invitation | 방탄소년단

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : After accepting a dinner invitation at your manager’s house, you hadn’t expected what the night would bring, or did you?

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : Taehyung x fem!reader

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : straight smut :]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 : unprotected sex (put some protection on that erection), fingering (f receiving), Tae’s a hoe.

main masterlist | kpop masterlist | upcoming anon asks

With a frustrated sigh, you shut the bathroom door and banged your head lightly on it. "Stupid“ You thought over and over. There was no getting away from the facts though, you were as aroused as you’d ever known and needed relief. With trembling-sweating palms you fumbled through your purse for your keys and un-clipped your keychain vibrator at the third attempt, silently thanking God for small miracles. "I can't even control my own hands anymore“ You murmured to herself.

Smiling slightly, you dropped your damp skirt and inched your naked ass onto the cold black marble counter top. Leaning back against the mirror, you spread your thighs and ran your fingers over your dripping clit and closed your eyes as your body trembled at your own touch. You were close...really close to stepping off the edge of bliss. Turing on the vibrator and feeling the pulsating beat dance up your fingers, you felt your body flood with more juices. Bracing a foot against the rim of the sink, you slipped the vibrator into your open, dripping body. Sinking the vibrator back and forth, you fingered your clit and thought of your date.

It had all started with the dinner invitation: just a simple, "Will you have dinner with me sometime?" It was an invitation that should have never been given and never been accepted because of your working relationship. You knew that any relationship between you both had to be nipped in the bud. You smiled wickedly, you liked playing with fire and for once- you were going to play and had accepted the invitation.

Waiting for him to come into the living room from the kitchen, you thought of the man who you hoped would become your lover. Tall for his Asian descent, Taehyung carried himself with a strong sense of pride and joyfulness. Those months of working with him as your manager, slowly built the tension so tight that a knife couldn't cut it and had fellow employees looking at you both with knowing grins. Catching him walking into the room, you watched him move towards you, the dimmed lights making his ink black hair shine with an iridescent blue hue. Your eyes roved over his body taking in the button-up black shirt that hugged the slim muscles of his chest and arms and the tight blue jeans that hugged his hips and outlining the long, muscular thighs and calf of his legs.

"Madam, your whiskey-laced tea" You chuckled as Taehyung handed you a glass coffee cup, his palm and long fingers dwarfing the small cup. "Thank you, Tae" Playfully, you lowered your eyes and peered at him from beneath your lashes, "Now, if I'm guessing right, I think you've been avoiding this question all night, but I need to know why you invited me to dinner tonight”

Taehyung looked at her, really looked. Your shoulder-length, dark brown hair fell gently around your sharp cheek bones that told the story of the native blood that flowed in your veins. The backlight from a lamp cast a soft glow around your face giving you a classic sexy look, but behind your tiny, silver glasses, your dark eyes held his, waiting for his answer. "I think you know Y/n. You know I've asked Erin about you”

". . . and I've seen the women you date" You cut Taehyung off, it was rude, but you wanted answers, and not the answers your friends could give you. "I'm not like them. Taehyung, I know you've talked to Erin, she's told you many times that I'm not someone who takes sex, dating, and all the other stuff that goes with it lightly. I know that she's told you how I feel about myself, which means you know that I'm really insecure about myself and how I look”

"How you look? My God Y/n, your body's perfect!" You raised an eyebrow and looked at his whiskey brown eyes. You knew he was telling you the truth; one of the knacks you acquired over the years was the ability to read people's eyes, and his were just devouring you. Softly he said, "You have a body that a man can fall into Y/n, soft and rounded. Those women you’ve seen me with . . . they mean nothing" Taehyung sat on the couch next to you and leaned his head back against the soft, buttery black leather, "Not anymore” he finished with a distant smile.

You looked though the sliding door of Taehyung’s apartment and stared into the darkened sky beyond the pool. You knew he wasn't lying; you just couldn't bring yourself to accept that someone as good looking and sought after, as Taehyung, would want to become your lover. Still looking out into the distance you took a sip of your laced tea, and nearly killed yourself as you chocked, sputtering your tea all over yourself as Taehyung’s quiet words washed over your musing form. Turning your head sharply, your eyes clashed with his. "Did I hear you correctly?!”

Taehyung smiles, "Yes you heard me correctly" He paused and watched hungrily as your fingers brushed over the drops of tea that had landed on the curved, swollen rise of your breast. Licking his full lips, he groaned softly, not noticing as your eyes glanced to his suddenly flushed face. Slowly you, dipped your fingers into the deep cleft of your breasts made by the confinement of your bra and smiled, reflecting the wickedness and passion your body was starving for. Watching his eyes fix on the fingers that rested between your warm breasts, you whispered his name softly, "Taehyung?"

Taehyung jerked his gaze to meet yours and realized they were focused on his flushed face, he said ; "Have you ever played "I want you to . . .?"

Your mind reeled. You not only knew the game really well, but you knew, personally, the author who originated the game through one of his own erotic stories. As if through a fog, you heard Taehyung’s voice washing over you, "From your look, I can guess that you do know the story, where it comes from, and its meaning”

With a trembling hand, you set what was left of your tea on the small coffee table and looked directly into Taehyung’s eyes and read the promise of what was to come. "Yes. I know the game and the story very well. Mr. Kim is quite a pleasurable writer. He's a very good friend of mine. We met when I complimented him on one of his pieces. From there on it's been a great friendship"

"You know him?"

You looked up and raised your eyebrows, your gaze never leaving his face as he shifted his body toward yours. "What's wrong with that?" You asked quietly, tracing one of the leather buttons on the couch's seat.

"Nothing. I've always wanted to meet him. His stories leave something to the imagination”

You bowed your head and chuckled. You knew how well his stories could lead to the imagination and hoped that you and Taehyung could sometime act them out.

"Well then" He mused aloud in the heavy silence of the apartment, amazed that you knew Mr. Kim and his writings.

"Tae . . ." You scooted closer to him on the couch, your knees touching his thighs as you faced him. Your eyes betrayed your uncertainty at the reaction you received from Taehyung about your online friendship.

Taehyung smiled and reached out to trace your full lips, with his broad tipped fingers, "I was just surprised that you would know someone through e-mail, but you've never met him in person" Trailing off, he leaned forward and kissed your small pert nose. "Now, back to the original concern of tonight, I'm going to make you see that I want you and only you. Do you still want to play?" At your small nod, his smile broadened into a grin. "I want you to kiss me Y/n. Kiss me with all that passion you've been storing up for me at work”

You blushed. You couldn't help it, you thought you had kept your desires in check at work, but apparently Taehyung, and others, had noticed. Shifting once more on the couch, you rose over his lounging form and pressed your lips gently against his warm firm lips and felt them soften as your tongue gently ran a warm, wet line across the seam. With a growl, Taehyung deepened the kiss, his mouth opening on yours. Slipping your tongues into the other’s welcoming mouths you explored, tasted. Shifting your mouth, you coxed his tongue deeper into yours and returned the favor to him. Soon, the kiss spiraled deeper and deeper into heated passion, your mouths and tongues dancing a duel of possession that was as old as time.

With a quiet moan, you lowered your upper body against Taehyungs, your hips pressing into his side, your soft, lush lips closed firmly against his to stop his thrusting tongue from taking possession of the kiss. Chuckling, Taehyung pulled back and rested his head against the back of the couch, his heaving breath mixing with yours in an attempt to breathe. Slowly he ran his hand down your smooth hair, wrapping his fist around it once he reached the layered ends.

You shifted your weight as Taehyung’s hand tightened his possession on you. Grinning, your straight white teeth gleaming, you straddled his thigh, your skirt rising to expose your long toned thighs. "I want you to kiss my neck" Taehyung arched a black eyebrow and tilted his head to the side. Tugging on your hair to bring your head softly to the opposite side of his tilted face, Taehyung’s firm lips caressed your jaw down to the dancing pulse in your throat. Taking a deep breath, Taehyung inhaled your own feminine sent and perfume before he traced your vein with the tip of his tongue. Suddenly he clamped his lips and teeth over the vein and felt you responding exclamation of "Oh!" along with the deep grind of your hips against his leg as he suckled the soft, giving flesh.

Letting go of your hair, his mouth lifting from your neck, he shifted their bodies and lowered you onto your back; the leather of the couch sinking as his weight settled over yours. Just as slowly as he lowered your bodies, your hands rose in panic and shoved at his broad shoulders.

"Taehyung . . .?" Your body tensed under his in fear of knowing what he was going to do.

"Sh . . ." His eyes met your own and held your gaze. "All you have to do is say 'Stop' and it all ends" You nodded and tilted your head back as Taehyung lowered his lips once again to the vulnerable skin of your neck.

"You know Y/n..." Kevin whispered as he nibbled and sucked on your ear, "I've wanted to this for the year and a half I've known you. I've always wanted you, even before you became a manager and you turned that sexy I-don't-give-a-damn-what-you-think attitude on me” Pulling back from your sweet neck, Taehyung looked into your closed eyes. "You're mine Y/n. Mine." Taehyung lowered his head and sank his teeth into your neck and shoulder muscles, branding you as his and only his by marring the soft, white skin.

Your back arched off the couch, pain mingling with pleasure of having his teeth press onto the soft skin, your hips ground into the hard thigh that pressed you deeper into the couch as you felt his firm mouth suckling your neck. "Ah . . . shit . . . Tae . . ." You murmured as you pulled away from his mouth. You were trembling and your neck felt like it was on fire. Slowly his words came back to you "You're mine--. . ." You laughed and basked in the pleasure of his words even as your fingers came to rest on the tender spot. Just from the low throbbing sensation you felt, you knew you’d have trouble hiding it when you went into work the next day.

"I want you to give me permission to do what I want to your body Y/n. I want total control." Taehyung raised himself from your body and sat at the base of your feet, waiting for an answer and your surrender. You smiled to yourself, a pleased happy smile . . . you were getting what you had wanted ever since you first saw him. Lowering your fingers to the buttons of your blouse, you flicked them open to reveal the black cami, lacey black bra, and creamy white skin underneath. Sitting up, never breaking his gaze from yours, you shrugged off your shirt, tugged the cami over your head and reached to your side to undo the zipper of your skirt.

"Don't. Please, leave it on."

Your hands fell away from your side. Under his intense stare you began to wiggle and squirm. "Tae . . ."

He chuckled and moved to your side, "Take this off." His hands reached out and grasped the black cami's hem and together you raised it over your head, revealing the lacy black bra and the hidden destined pink nipples. "Lay back Y/n, I think it's time to show you what I want." You smiled and lay back on the couch, the black leather caressing your naked back.

Taehyung looked down and let his eyes feast on your perfect body. Your pink nipples stood to attention behind the lace, waiting for the homage he would pay them, your belly, slightly round, dipped into the covered waist and gentle "V" between them. Taehyung laughed and traced a finger around your navel and the silver Playboy Bunny ring that pierced it “I heard that you had this done. Did it hurt?"

"Only afterwards" You laid your hand over his, stopping the circular motion of his fingers. "That tickles” Taehyung smiled as he lifted your hand and placed it on his shoulder. He felt your fingers tighten briefly before they began to rub light circles over the muscles through his shirt. Stretching out beside you, Taehyung pressed an open mouth kiss on the now deep purple teeth mark he left behind.

You arched your neck back into the couch's pillowed arm as Taehyung’s mouth ran a hot, wet trail down your upper chest. "I always wondered what you’d taste like," you heard him murmur against your breast before his mouth closed hot and insistent over the black lace and your nipple. Suckling you deeper, Taehyung felt your hips twist and press and thrust into his. Flicking his tongue across your nipple, he heard you whimper as your fingers dug crescent moons unto his back through the cotton of his shirt.

Taehyung grinned as he looked up at your passionate face, “You taste like the sea" Finding the clasp of your bra in the valley of your breasts, he flicked it open. Looking down, he sucked in his breath. "My god Y/n . . ." he muttered. Your breasts were lightly tanned at the top from your summer in the sun, but the rest of you was creamy white, your areola, a light dusky pink. Your nipples were just perfect and as hard as bullets. With a groan, Taehyung lowered his head again and flicked one nipple at first and then the other, moving his dark head between the tasty fruit. Clamping his teeth once again over the tight buds, he felt your fingers slide into his hair as he bit down gently. Hearing your slight cry of pain, he closed the warm, wet cavern of his mouth over your breasts, softening the love-bite he had given you. Feeling your covered hips push harder into his jeans-covered cock, he suckled her deeper, groaning softly as your hips continued to thrust into his.

You bent your legs slightly and pushed his hips away from you with your hands. Confused, Taehyung pulled away from sucking your breast at your frustrated whimper. With jerky movements, he watched as your fingers grabbed the edge of your skirt and your hips arch as you tugged your skirt above your thighs.

"No, no, no . . ." Taehyung said as the skirt reached a little higher than mid-thigh, and revealed the white thigh-hugging garters. Catching your hands he brought them over your head and held them in his loose grip.

"Y/n, that's my job” You whimpered, low and deep, and opened your eyes to stare into his. You wanted to press yourself against him, first your skirt still stood in your way and now his hands held yours captive, preventing you from lifting the offending skirt.

"Please Tae, oh please." Your hips arched into his, asking, demanding, hell, pleading for what he could give you. Taehyung kissed your breasts one more time and ran his hand down your thigh and back up. Stopping, he fingered the white garter.

"Black and White . . . Purity and Evil . . ." Taehyung shook his head, met your gaze once again and released the hands he held between his fists, "Put my hands where you want them. If we go any further Y/n, you must put my hands where you want them” Taehyung watched as your hand hesitantly came up to rest on his. With a pause, you grasped his hand under yours and moved it to the junction of your thighs, raking your skirt up past the garter belt so your pussy was exposed. Taehyung gasped as he saww you were naked under your skirt. Your pussy, partly shaved, sported a black triangle of curly soft hair, which glistened, wet and inviting.

"You're naked!”

You laughed low and huskily at his exclamation and the shock that masked his passionate face. "Please, Tae” You repeated as you arched your hips into his hand, brushing his still fingers against the dampness. Recovering from the unexpected, but wonderful, shock at finding you naked under the skirt, Taehyung ran his fingers over your swollen lips, slipping his fingers between the warm folds, closing his eyes as he felt the inviting heat.

"You're so wet. Oh, god, Y/n, you feel so good” Finding the nub of your pleasure, Taehyung flicked his finger across it. "Ah . . . Oh!" You cried out as his fingers moved over you, your breath now coming out deep and harsh.

"Please, inside me . . ." Your breath heaved in and out; one hand gripping his arm, the other the back of the couch. "Taehyung . . ." Your plead slipped off into a high moan as he flicked his fingers across your clit again. Your eyes opened and you strained your head off the pillow, "Please . . . put your fingers inside me" The tone of your voice rose and Taehyung smiled. He had never heard you beg for anything before.

His finger tips were now coated in your dew, sliding his fingers down, he found the entrance into your body. Sliding finger-deep inside you, he felt your body's muscles tighten around him. Thrusting your hips up, you forced his finger further inside of you.

"Slow down, we have all night" He murmured but knew you didn't hear him. You were too far gone in pleasure; your face flushed, body gleaming with the sweat from your exertions, his finger gripped tightly by your inner muscles. Smiling, he slipped his finger out of you and grinned when you whimpered in protest. Fingering your clit again he wondered how many of his fingers you could take. Slipping his fingers down again, he slid three into you and felt your body giving a response.

"Oh!" Your eyes opened, bright and glazed over, as his fingers pushed steadily into your tight body. Feeling his knuckles hit your lips he slid them back and thrust them back in. Your body tightened and your thighs clasped his arm tightly. Your whimpers and cries mixed with the wet suction sound of Taehyung’s fingers in your body, causing your pelvis to arch upwards as your hips pistoned faster and faster onto his fingers.

"Oh . . . fuck . . . Tae . . ." Your voice trailed off into a low scream as he lowered his head to take your breast into his mouth. Shifting his weight, he thrust his fingers harder into your body as his teeth closed and tugged at your nipple. He knew you were close, so close that a few more thrusts . . .

Suddenly, like a knife, the classical shrill of his ringing cell phone cut through the tense, passionate atmosphere, causing the both of you to freeze, your eyes locked onto each other. His fingers still inside you, he looked at the chair where his discourteous phone laid. Your breath was low and harsh, your body shaking and trembling around him.

"Tae, it's work, you're on call. You have to take it” Taehyung looked down at you in disbelief. His fingers were still inside your tight, trembling body and you were telling him it was work on the phone? Your muscles tightened around his fingers, your wet heat, your shaking body, still keeping him close to your side.

"Fuck" Taehyung muttered violently, as he pulled his fingers from your dripping body. You whimpered, your hand moving between your legs as his fingers left you.

"This better be good" He bit out as he answered the phone. Turning to face you, he watched as your thighs pressed your hand tighter to your pussy. Trembling still, you sat up. You needed release, needed it badly, a few more thrust of his long fingers and you would’ve cum like never before.

Testing your shaking legs, you stood, proud and half naked before Taehyung. Dropping your gaze down, you stared at the bulge that waited to be released. Licking your lips, you wondered how he would taste.

"He's how much under?" You sighed; this was going to be a long conversation if an employee was under by the five hundred dollars that Taehyung sputtered out. Smoothing your skirt, you grabbed your purse and headed toward the bathroom thinking that this night was completely ruined.

Taehyung sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. The conversation he thought would take so long turned out to last less then ten minutes. Smelling your scent on his fingers, he looked around the living room. He knew you had gone to the bathroom, but you hadn't come back. Eyes narrowed, Taehyung padded softly across the living room to the hallway where the bathroom was, taking off his shirt along the way. Pausing before the door, he eyed it hesitatingly, unsure whether he should open it or not.

"What the . . ." He muttered as he heard your low cry and slowly, his brain recognized the restrained signs of a passionate woman climaxing, "Y/n?" He twisted the door's gold handle. Finding it unlocked, he pushed it open and stopped dead in his tracks. In the far corner of the room, your head was arched back; your legs, still clad in the white garters, were spread open on the black marble counter, your fingers furiously working your clit and a small vibrator into your open wet body.

You were so enthralled with yourself that you didn't hear him open the door. Moving quietly, Taehyung unbuttoned and unzipped his pants; his cock straining to be free of the Levi's and white boxers. Never breaking his gaze from watching you, he dropped his pants and began to stroke himself.

"Now that you're . . .out . . .of . . .your . . .pa . . .pants . . .I. . .” Taehyung froze and your panting dialogue broke off as you moaned long and deep, your hands moving faster over your clit. "I . . . I want your cock . . . Now." You slid the wet vibrator from your body, your sexy, intoxicating sent filled the bathroom; Taehyung moved towards your body, kicking off his pants and boxers as he neared you.

Once in reach, you focused your dazed eyes and reached for Taehyung’s twitching and long, veined cock, and grasped it in your small fist. Pressing his lips to yours, his body shuddered and shook as you slowly started to pump his cock. Slipping his tongue into you mouth, he pulled your hips closer to the counter's edge. Taking his cock from your pumping fist, he rubbed his cock over your pussy lips and clit, feeling you shudder at the feeling of the broad, blunt head as it moved towards the entrance of your waiting body.

"Fuck Me” Simple, powerful, and demanding. Taehyung’s groan of satisfaction from being inside you was drowned out by your scream as he thrust into you. "Fuck, you're so tight . . . ah . . . shit . . .Y/n" his body trembled, his legs shaking, with the effort of supporting his body. Feeling your inner muscles tighten around his cock, milking him closer and closer to climax, he gritted his teeth and grunted. Slamming himself to the hilt, your hips ground into his. With one hand gripping the shower door handle, the other the mirror behind you as you screamed and shook as your climax came over you. Feeling your hips lift, press, and grind hard into his, Taehyung lowered his head and took your tit into his mouth suckling on your deep and long. Feeling your body's muscles relax, he flicked his tongue across your erect nipples and felt your inner muscles clench him tight once again.

Kissing his neck where the shoulder met, you moved your hips against his. Taehyung stopped thrusting, his cock completely covered by your dripping pussy, waiting for your numb, still trembling body to relax it's hold on him. Unconsciously, you tightened your inner muscles, milking his waiting cock and making him growl in frustration. Chuckling slightly, you pressed a kiss to his neck and took a deep breath against his sweaty skin; slowly, you felt your body relax from the climax's grip, tingling as your senses came down from their powerful high. Not wanting to loose the feel of him inside you, you tightened your legs harder around Taehyung’s hips.

"Finish. Fuck me and fuck me hard” You whispered as you locked your feet in the small of his back. You were ready for the bruising ride he was about to give you——and the next orgasm.

Groaning, Taehyung surged back, his cock nearly sliding from your body before he slammed back in. Over and over he pounded into you. The sounds of flesh slapping flesh, primitive groans of satisfaction, the tightening of muscles and bodies, Taehyung knew he couldn't last much longer. Feeling you tighten around him once more, he thrust into your dripping body again and felt his body tighten. Pressing his mouth to your arched neck, he trembled and locked his knees as his orgasm began to pump through his body. Panting, he bit your neck and pushed his hips harder into yours as his body fought not to spill his seed to soon. Reaching down between your meshed bodies, he thrummed your clit and felt your locked feet press his hips harder into yours.

"Y/n, cum."

You opened your glazed eyes and met his as he pressed your clit back and then up. Your animalistic scream mixed with his shout of pleasure, as your legs tightened even more around his hips and your small inner muscles milking his cock as he shuddered in release, his seed spurting deep into your body. Relaxing is head on your chest, he felt your short, buffed nails dig into his upper arms as both of your bodies shuddered and trembled.

Now limp, his body still shuddering as it came back to reality, Taehyung rested his head against your breast, kissing the side of it, before licking it, tasting the sweat that dewed your skin.

"Thank you" You whispered as you un-wrapped your aching, quivering legs from around his waist. Your body was just coming back to earth from the three orgasms that you had had that night and a pleasant tingle worked it's way up your body from your toes, making you smile sleepily through half-lidded eyes.

Taehyung looked up into your still glazed eyes and smiled. "My pleasure, my beautiful, passionate Y/n”

Standing on shaking legs, Taehyung pulled out of your body. Picking you up, he carried you from the bathroom and down the hall. "It's not where I planned to have sex with you for the first time, but I'll never forget it” Kissing your forehead, he laid you down on the deep blue feather comforter, joining seconds later.

"Can I ask you something?" Sitting beside you, Taehyung rakes his fingers over your belly and up your chest. You arched a brow, giving your silent assent for him to ask his question. "Why didn't you wait?"

You laughed and rolled over on your side, burrowing your head in the pillow. After a few minutes of laughter to yourself, you rolled back to face him, your sleepy eyes still holding the laughter that you had released into the pillow.

"You left me on the brink of complete sexual satisfaction and you didn't think I wouldn't get myself off?"

"Well," Taehyung’s hand paused under your breast, his voice disbelieving, "You told me to answer the phone”

You laughed impishly at his sour expression. "Don't worry, we have all night, plenty of . . ." Your voice trailed off. You didn't know if you had all night. Hell, you weren’t certain that Taehyung liked you finishing without him.

Smiling, Taehyung climbed into bed beside you, his limp cock growing hard once again. "Yes we have all night as long as I get to watch you masturbate again, if we get to finish playing 'I Want You To,' and if you'll have dinner with me . . . again”

Your full-bodied laugh filled the masculine bedroom at his demands. Slowly, you brought his head down so your lips could caress his. After all, the night had started with a dinner invitation, so why not end it with another one?

Date posted: 13/08/23

𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 ♡︎

𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

[still-fatemeh]

FORGOT TO SAY BUT IM IN *LOVE* WITH YOUR BLOG THEME HOLY SHIT I LOVE ITTTTT SMMMMMM :333333

AHHHHHHHH, THANK YOU💜💜💜

I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUUU

[I was lowky thinking about changing my theme from the rat man into my boy chuuya, but now that you said you like it, I'll keep the rat man around longer (* ´ ▽ ` *)ﾉ]

[traitsno]

2/100

[wranglens]

the  rodeo's  a  nice  place  to  be  ,      but  this  evening  he'd  rather  be  on  his  feet  when  he's  got  no  bull  in  the  fights  .      so  ,      he's  wandered  right  in  through  the  doors  of  the  back  stables  without  direction  on  where  to  go  ,      and  ,      while  he's  at  it  ,      stumbled  by  accident  upon  jessie  ,      struggling  with  something  he  can't  quite  make  out  clearly  .        ❝        you  look  like  you  need  some  help  with  that  .        ❞

@8ullseye  .      ❝  i  know  i  need  help  but  i'm  not  quite  ready  to  ask  for  it  .  ❞

not  quite  ready  to  ask  for  it  .      out  of  all  the  times  when  she  should  be  ready  to  ask  for  it    …    he'd  think  now  would  be  a  good  time  .      still  ,      though  ,      he's  not  going  to  rush  her  .      he's  just  going  to  let  that  simpering  glint  in  his  eye  simmer  at  the  surface  and  settle  into  the  smile  lines  by  his  eyes  ,      shoulder  leaned  against  the  frame  of  the  wooden  fencing  of  this  indoor  arena  ,      and  let  that  speak  for  itself  .

almost  ,      anyway  .        ❝        you  know  ,        ❞        he  remarks  ,      after�� a  moment  of  watching  her  struggle  ,        ❝        i  may  not  look  like  it  ,      but  i  know  a  thing  or  two  about  that  .      so  i'll  stay  right  here  ,      till  you  feel  like  asking  .        ❞

╰ ゜&. THAT'S WHIRRED UP .  /  𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 .

[kozsilykave]

I AM EVIL KO AND AS EVIL KO I WILL SUBJECT EVERYONE (noone) TO MY SPACE MOMMIES PROPAGANDA (actually hoping this gets to noone i just want to post theze^-^)

[penddraig]

@agecurse. the  proffered  arm  provokes  a  smile .        “    are  you  to  be  my  escort  this  evening ?    ”        each  stride  clicks  upon  the  floorboards  as  the  young  maiden  takes  her  place  beside  the  wizard,    her  hand  tucking  neatly  into  the  crease  of  his  elbow,    the  other  resting  upon  his  upper  arm .          dark,    warm  eyes  peer  through  strands  of  silver  hair,    up  into  his  beautiful,    sparkling  green  gaze .        “    and  may  i,    at  long  last,    know  to where  we're  headed ?          or  are  you  determined  to  torment  me  with  suspense ?    ”

❝    although you flatter me,   i know your ways.   so i will continue to torment you.   i do so love to listen to your guesses.   they are the best part of these evenings.    ❞    he laughs softly,   and rather dreamily,   and leads her towards the door.   a quick twitch of his finger ensures the dial is pointed yellow-down,   toward market chipping.   another,   and the door opens for them both,   and he guides her the rest of the way outside and into the early evening sun.   as they walk,   he makes certain to stay nearly glued to her side,   his face slightly turned toward her,   gaze on the ground ahead.    ❝    you won't hate it.    ❞

[weirdocat83]

I find gender to be a funny concept. because some people are very sure of what they are. then I'm here and any time anyone asks for my pronouns, for formal reasons usually, I'm just like, "hell if I know! Your guess is as good as mine!" which I find silly. like yeah you can adress me as my gender assigned at birth and it's not incorrect but frankly, you could address me as "eldritch monster who lives in the woods" and I'd give you about the same amount of agreement as my assigned birth gender.

how I feel about it depends on the day for the most part. sometimes I feel feminine and sometimes masculine but most of the time I am too tired to care and just put on a damn hoodie and hat and move on with my day.

I am a relatively androgynous person but sometimes people confuse me for the opposite sex than I am and it makes me feel giddy a lot of the time. But not normal giddy, more like, “I’m gonna cry and I don’t know if it’s happy tears”. It’s weird. but sometimes I want nothing more than to be the picture of my assigned sex. I am starting to think I'm gender fluid but heck if I know.

[millidew]

if the p4 the magician manga gave us anything it was yosuke canonically using kaomojis

[forbaesmoved]

i’m seeing taylor swift tomorrow. i’m gonna thr*w up.

[ofdetonation]

@amplifyingtrace inquired : { <3 } “I got this.” ╱ general  sentence  starters.

𝗹𝗲𝗶𝗮  𝘀𝗮𝘆𝘀  𝘀𝗵𝗲’𝘀  𝗴𝗼𝘁  𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀,   𝗯𝘂𝘁  𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀  𝘀𝗵𝗲 ? katsuki raises a brow and stares at her incredulously ⸺ his arms cross over his chest with a firm grip,  crimson watching her perceived confidence. he isn’t convinced. the task at hand wouldn’t be an easy one,  even for the young bakugou,  but with leia confident that she could do it alone ?

she must be insane.

❝ hah,  d’ya really ? ❞ katsuki spares a glance between her and their joint task,  before giving her a smirk.     ❝    go on then.     lemme see how you apparently ‘got this’.    ❞

[rapturously]

𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟, 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐞.

┊ count orlok x fem!reader.

✠⠀༷ ゜ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: after uncovering an heirloom thought to be long-buried and forgotten to time, your flesh is joined as one with the enigmatic count.

read part one here.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.0K.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: heavy smut, willing consent, vampire antics (bloodplay, blood drinking, scent kink), extreme possessive & obsessive behavior, biting, scratching, making out, tearing clothing, unprotected p in v sex, loss of virginity, sex with a rotting vampire, cunnilingus, cockwarming, multiple orgasms, title kink (use of my lord), dracula references, a relationship based on lust/obsession/possession and not love.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: writing this has given me joy about writing again & it’s a fantastic feeling! loved working on this fic! thank you to everyone who has shown such love and support for my work, this is why I write and it means a lot to me! I hope you guys enjoy!

𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ��𝐮𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞.

Each night since he had first fed from you followed a similar pattern, lulled into a sensual subservience by his shadow, soothed by the allure of his voice. There was an innate lack of physicality that perplexed you, as if he were waiting for something else.

This enforced isolation by daylight allowed you to traverse the castle grounds, to explore the hallowed halls of this macabre mausoleum — you never felt truly alone. His presence stayed with you, a shadow haunting your steps.

Beneath the crunch of frozen undergrowth, you wandered. Within the shroud of the Carpathian Mountains, the fortress had seemed monumental, but in the flesh, it was smaller, a labyrinth of stone. It gave you ample time to admire the architecture and study his home.

The village became a mere afterthought, abandoned to the recesses of your mind, buried away, never to be uncovered. Your Lord was not physically present, more often than not, and you began to burn for his touch.

Phantom caresses and arduous visions could only sustain your craving for him for so long. He was not unkind, simply aloof and enigmatic, a being that seemed to give you everything you wanted, and nothing at all.

He had swathed you in clothing finer than you could ever imagine, fit for a noblewoman, lavished you in fine trappings and allowed you your own chambers. Even then, you wanted more — you wanted to be with him, beseech him to stay.

Wisps of warmth emerged from your lips as you stepped beneath an archway, the stone older than your predecessors. The grounds, still and eerie, retained a wealth of history, his ancestors still buried somewhere within the catacombs.

Orlok, you’d learned, was his ancestral surname, passed down through a noble lineage of a royal bloodline that far exceeded that of your own. He spoke nothing of his own beginnings, preferring to keep it all concealed within the dark.

For most of your life, you’d been taught to fear strigoi, tales of bloodsucking predators looming in the night, coming to snatch the innocent from their beds. You still felt some unusual uneasiness with your Lord, but it was humans you feared more than anything, those that tried to kill you.

Timeworn rags of your old life were left behind, scattered to the wind like a shattered memory. Whatever void was left within you, he filled — like a goblet overflowing with wine, leaving you satiated.

Within dust-laden corridors, you managed to find your way from the castle’s exterior grounds to a spacious hall, one that you had not yet seen. A singular door, tall and scaling, sat before you, the doorknob possessing the head of a gargoyle.

It was untoward for you to go prowling around within the Conta’s private dwellings, and yet, curiosity seemed to get the better of you.

Left unlatched, you gently pushed against the wrought-iron surface, chest lurching with a flurry of anxiousness as it groaned in protest. Sluggingly, it began to fall open, revealing a private study, wreathed in still-burning candlelight.

It was dark, lacking any windows or inklings of natural light. Scaling stone walls were lined in archaic paintings, several massive portraits gilded in frames of tarnished gold. Shadows danced along the bannister, uncertainty swelling within your stomach.

Each painting must’ve been familial, finely-crafted imagery of his ancestors. There was only one that seemed torn to shreds, almost nonexistent as you approached. The name was worn by time, difficult to read, Dacian muddied with the rotten gold of the frame.

The study seemed to have little use, chaotic and visually disorganized, with books and parchment strewn about, the fixtures dilapidated and old. An oaken desk remained scattered with various documents, but it was one item that had ensnared your attention.

A locket, the silver having faded to an ugly, distorted brown, all color and liveliness stripped away. It was inappropriate of you to pry like this, but some unforeseen force compelled you to take it, to open it and peer inside.

Trembling digits slipped around the ornate chain, finding the hinge of the trinket as you opened it. To your surprise, there was a small, painted portrait of a young woman — beautiful, in your eyes. Her attire was ripped from that of royalty, with delicate features and a regal, dignified posture.

Upon closer inspection, she resembled you to an uncanny degree, eyes beset by kindness.

A soft exhale of surprise tore past your lips, thumb tracing over the curve of the locket, brows furrowing together. This stranger’s likeness seemed to replicate yours, almost supernatural, and yet, you couldn’t be farther apart, separated by class and the insurmountable reach of time.

It hadn’t been disturbed for many ages, but the peculiarity of it did not seem to leave you, even as you placed it back down. Perhaps, he’d known of your presence all along, but it did not seem to fit the mystique of it all.

Departing from his study, you closed the door, greeted by the vibrant rays of sunset.

It became a tedious game of awaiting dusk’s arrival, watching as the sun began to slip beneath the mountains, orange rays turning to violet. With twilight encroaching, you knew he would soon awake, emerging from the shadows.

A sliver of your being felt compelled to ask about the locket, but you did not want to invoke his ire, if he were anguished over it. He had left it behind for a reason, buried beneath mountains of parchment, and there must’ve been a reason for it.

The forlorn dinner hall remained empty, save for the roaring hearth, brought to life by your Lord. As you entered through the massive set of wrought-iron doors, you caught a glimpse of his form, sitting closer to the fire.

Even from afar, your gaze was ensnared by the bundle of white, gossamer cloth he carried, the fabric reminiscent of your nightgown. Claws pinched at the material, twisting it between his fingertips as he brought it closer to his visage.

A strange spark stirred within your stomach, a familiar heat that seemed to ignite some crackling tension, allowing it to permeate the air. A hitch formed within your throat as you closed the door, the thump of it reverberating throughout the stone ceilings.

A hoarse rasp emerged from Orlok, an unsteady inhale as he absorbed the scent of your garments. In the time between, when he slumbered within his tomb, it was your smell he longed for, akin to that of some mortal addiction.

As you entered the hall, he withdrew your gown from his countenance, able to sense your beating heart, growing erratic in his presence. Black hues craned to peer over his shoulder, masked by the thick fur of his overcoat.

The bane of his being, his obsession, his lifeblood — during his days of arduous slumber, his thoughts crawled with you, of your amorous cries and keening body. There was a newfound ecstasy in the coming of dusk, when he could see you again — no vision placed within his mind’s eye.

He was not an oblivious creature, not impervious to your misadventures within his castle. Your scent lingered, permeating each corridor with a peculiar bouquet of warmth, one that only you possessed.

Your living presence breathed a certain exuberance into the veil of his shadow, where life was little more than a meaningless sentiment. His decay only seemed stilled by your heart, a precious thing, something that he deeply coveted.

It was in his nature to possess, to consume — he welcomed you into his tangled shroud, a dark haze that often invoked such fright. Your terror had subsided into carnality, a frenzied passion that he shared in, but had not yet acted upon.

Peering into your heart, the Count saw your wandering about within his study, mesmerized by paintings of his predecessors — and then, cradling a tarnished locket. A growl of agitation rippled through him, coupled with a rousing anger.

“Thou has traversed to places of grave importance,” The gravelly, thunderous lull of his cadence sent shivers of dread down your spine, born out of a gnawing anxiousness. He knew that you’d gone into his study, a place he considered to be private. “Why?”

A stab of lurching dread lunged for your stomach, sending a shiver throughout your body. It was foolish of you to believe that he wouldn’t suspect your prying, hands idly clutching at the fringe of your dress, an attempt at relieving tension.

Slick perspiration licked along the back of your neck as you faced his sharp accusation with a shrewd countenance. “I am sorry, my Lord, I did not intend to disturb your study.” It was a feeble attempt at mending the friction between the both of you.

“But you did,” A living reminder of terror — of his true nature, that of undeath and obliteration. Despite his innate obsession with you, he was still capable of wielding an icy wrath that made you tremble with trepidation. “I command thee to speak.”

A guttural growl erupts from his rotten diaphragm, a snarl that causes you to straighten, gooseflesh raking along your spine. He beseeches you to tell the truth of what you saw, something that your eyes were never intended to see.

“The locket,” A wisp of a murmur slips between your lips, tone softening in a valiant attempt to uncover the mystery of your ancient doppelgänger. “Who was she?” It was an innocuous inquiry, born from a naive heart.

Centuries without a thought of the past, only centered around you — you had brought an onslaught of lamenting with you. The Count did not answer, neglecting to shed any clarity on the woman who bore your own visage.

It was his own hubris that brought about his use of necromancy, thinking he could resurrect one that had long been dormant to the world. For such an action, his flesh was cursed in undeath, roaming the nocturnal world as a harbinger of pestilence, of one’s darkest desires.

“Of little importance.”

There was a fracture within you, a war that waged as you stood with bated breath, pondering his statement with perplexity. You did not believe him when he said this, digits curling into the rough embroidery of your gown.

“I do not believe you.” Lacking an ounce of defiance, your tone screamed of someone who yearned to know more of this shadow that haunted your every step. The Count’s displeasure was visible, countenance twisted into something of sheer anguish.

Within the space of a singular breath, he manifested before you, firelight draining from your surroundings until all that was left was pitch and silver. He was intimidating like this, leering over you like a dark statue, black hues swirling with an unbridled fury.

He was often indiscernible, a presence without any sentiment, and only you could taste them upon your tongue. Now, he seemed to bristle with an unsteady rage, cold breath fanning across your face, his scent one of the yawning grave and frostbitten flesh.

“You do not know what you speak,” His voice was like a poisonous thorn, a clap of thunder that rattled the castle’s foundations. The Count still cradled your nightgown in one hand, twisted in a fist between his claws. “It is a lament, nothing more.”

Clinging to a misbegotten past — within your marrow, you knew that it was a shadow of someone he once coveted, just as he possessed you now. Swallowing the growing lump within your throat, your gaze flickered to the bundle of pale fabric bunched within his grasp.

A flutter stirred within your heart, a skipped beat that elicited a soft gasp from your lips. His shadow blanketed you in his carnality, his obsession, his veneration — it sparked a fire within your belly, one that nearly seared your bones into ash.

Words died upon your tongue, stuck within the depths of your throat as you searched for a proper retort, and nothing emerged. A void of silence seemed to stop you in your tracks, allowing for a tumultuous tension to brew instead.

The Count lingered, hovering in above you, the tip of his nose brushing across your scalp. A gust of your scent invaded his senses, euphoric and overwhelming, a most wicked affliction.

“This lament shares my face,” Threads of a darker temptation began to pull at you, his allure unmistakable, like that of the great unknown. Your utterance gave him pause, body sharing in your space. “Why?”

He would have you in every lifetime, in every century — he would devour time if it meant that he could possess you. It was an ugly obsession, a vexation that you did not fully understand, this hunger that only you could satisfy.

A singular claw languidly danced across the exposed flesh of your neck, pulse pounding away beneath your jaw. It was a sensual touch, one reserved for lovers, a caress that seemed to make your knees tremble.

“𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐦𝐲 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.”

There was a weight to his confession that stole every shred of air from your lungs until you were left with nothing but a burning. An audible hitch formed within your chest, nerves set ablaze. A fire smoldered within your belly, one that demanded to be extinguished.

Crimson strings of fate, tethering you to him — perhaps, you were intended to be here all along.

Through black forests and silver blades, through snow-laden woodlands and the maddening cries of your once-kin, you had found him. His salvation was not in the form of some fantasy or fairytale, but through him alone, this carnivorous darkness — you were made for him.

With an unsteady exhale, you happened to feel your back lean against that of the hall’s grand door, the steely bite of icy iron sinking through your dress. It wasn’t the uncertain gait of fear, but of bewilderment — exhilaration.

To be coveted in a way that transcended the bonds of humanity, to anchor yourself to this being of carnage and lust — it was a sensation unlike any other. Your tongue felt like lead, heavy within your mouth as you attempted to conjure the right words, anything to convey your devotion.

It was unspoken, your need for him — he could smell it, oozing from your pores like sap from a tree, wafting from your being, the sweetest of scents. He cornered you, his impenetrable darkness corralling you against the door, and yet, you felt not an ounce of dread.

“This flesh is bound to thee, the object of all that I desire,” He rumbled, the lull of his cadence nearly bringing you to your knees, and the flame only grew tenfold. You had not known such reverence in your lifetime — and you knew that you never would again. “You are mine.”

Through bated breath, your heart heaved with ardor, body crawling with the lap of a lascivious heat that refused to cease. “I am yours.” It was a promise, made in the throes of your Lord’s possession, vocalized.

Without coherence, your hand blindly clamored forth, reaching for him in a way that you hadn’t before. Warm, silky digits found his chest, which expanded with each hoarse rasp, a low growl escaping him.

Your embrace evoked a dark, ravenous famine within him, one that threatened to devour you whole. He watched with a thinly-veiled rapture as you sank forth, hands finding his haggard form, clinging to him like a drowning woman.

Rough-hewn furs drifted beneath your fingertips, and at last, you felt him — as real as the dust-laden stone beneath your feet, no longer feeling like some ghostly omnipresence. Claws languidly dragged themselves against your crown, perusing through your tresses in one drawn-out caress.

The soft, pliant curve of your mouth enticed him so, the very essence of temptation, like the lull of a siren’s song from oceanic depths. He wanted you to invite him in, as one would invite a godly presence, let you crawl to him.

Black hues bored into you, indiscernible with an amalgamation of emotions, some hidden to you. A sharp exhale split through your ribs, one that shook with an encroaching exhilaration. Your gaze did not tear away out of fear, transfixed upon him.

“Kiss me,” It emerged as a whimper, a plea of such intense desperation. He had only ever appeared to you as a veiled shadow, never to feel the lively flush of your skin, or the pulsating of your heart within your throat. “Please.”

It was as if his breathing became unnaturally laborious, more than it had before, threaded with a desirous exhale. This act of physicality would inevitably lead to a point of no return, flesh bound as one in some grim eternity.

Your mind had never wavered — not once did you show an ounce of spite or a will to depart from his side, digits beginning to curl into his tunic. You hoped that your touch would beseech him to act, and yet, he remained eerily still.

“You know not what you desire.”

He wanted to hear your devotion firsthand, spilled from your throat, laid bare like a sinner’s shameful confession. A twinge of pathetic frustration began to burn your features, body pressing closer until your chest had brushed against him.

“I do, my Lord, I do — I beg of you,” Breathy, wanton pleas left you in myriads, gaze glistening with an unrestrained ardor. Whatever he wanted from you, he would have it — you belonged to him. At last, his rotting lips ghosted above yours. “Take me — all of me.”

Control seemed fleeting, and you danced along the knife’s edge of desire, hoping to let it plunge into you like a mortal wound. Those elongated claws brushed across your cheek, coming to cradle your jaw in a way that only a lover could.

A throaty sound erupted from your chest, wisps of air ripped from your diaphragm when his lips collided with yours. You had not tasted anything like him before — a decay sweeter than demise. Passion took root, followed by lust.

The prickled coarseness of his mustache scratched against your mouth, and yet it hadn’t felt so heavenly before. Elation rushed through you like the swell of a tempestuous tide, prompting you to mold yourself to his own frame.

A growl stirred within him, one that evoked his possession over you, his domineering will. He tasted life within your lips, the warmth of fire, burning away the forlorn chill of the grave.

It was as if your surroundings had melted away, reduced to an endless sea of darkness, with only him as your guide. A ravenous pull laced itself into his kiss as he pressed you further, a sharp nail tracing across your jugular.

“To your chambers.”

The sharp, gravelly rumble of his cadence tore at your thoughts, ensnaring your attention as you straightened. Pitch-colored hues glowered upon you as you peeled yourself from him, obeying his command as you returned to your quarters.

He had not followed, manifesting beside the window as you shut the door, wrought-iron groaning in protest, echoing throughout the halls. The penumbra of his oppressive shadow fell across you, tangling you within the visceral gnarl of his obsessive desire.

Moonlight pooled through the singular window of your room, liquid silver casting a ghostly light upon his towering physique. No longer aghast by his haggard features, a man reanimated, you inched closer, seeking him once more.

You yearned for his mouth, for his all-consuming kiss, stepping forward until you were merely breaths away, lacking any shred of nervousness. Had you not been fantasizing of this for some time, you might’ve been terrified — instead, you felt excitement.

“Reveal thine flesh, for it belongs to me.” He rasped, desiring to see you closely this time, unable to flee from his gaze. With each visit of his shadow upon you, left him unable to truly revel in your eternal beauty.

Gooseflesh raked across your spine, accompanied by an arousing flame that ignited within your belly, burning so intensely that it threatened to scorch you, too.

You had not experienced an exhilaration quite like this — as longed-for like dusk that yearned for the moon’s enchanting silver.

Trembling digits found the front ties of your dress, untangling them with insistent tugs before you turned, back facing him. A gathering of silken ties and string pieced it all together, and your hands attempted to make swift work of their hindrance.

The feather-light embrace of claws raked across your bare shoulder, roughened pads of his spindly digits absorbing the heat of your skin. A wisp of icy breath rasped from him, hoarse and labored along the nape of your neck.

A shiver of elation rolled across your spine, lips parted with bated breath as he loomed ever closer, towering over you. God, did you want him, needed him — needed him like air, a strangled gasp of desperation.

Gnarled talons bunched themselves within loosened threads, and with an inhuman display of strength, he ripped your dress. Dark hues seemed to flicker, swirling with such lust — he wanted to bite into your passion, let it consume him.

“My Lord.” A wanton mewl slipped past your lips, listening to the shred and rending of fabric as the Count tore it from your body. Tugging your arms from the puffy sleeves, your breasts were exposed to the chill of your chambers.

His dismembering of your garments continued, elongated fingers and talons prying it all away, unraveling you, revealing you to him. Those large, gnarled hands smoothed over the curve of your hips, pushing the dress down, down.

A guttural growl unfurled from within his chest, a sharp noise that rattled your bones with a needy thrill. His initial tenderness was entirely unexpected, silently admiring the unblemished plane of your flesh.

The sharp bridge of his nose slipped against your throat, lips pressing a vigorous kiss there, roughened tongue lapping over your saccharine skin. With a keening moan, you sank into his hold, bristling at the sensation of a hand encircling your breast.

Teeth grazed across the hollow between your throat and shoulder, temptation oozing from your pores before he bit. A ripple of pain spread from his bite, enough to taste the coppery pool of your blood.

It was not a harsh bite, not intended to feed — that would come last. His penchant for your cruor called to him like a hymnal, rough tongue dragging over the wound he’d made. Talons caressed your breast, kneading at the pliant mound.

One palm closed around your neck, caging you in against his frame as he greedily lapped at oozing droplets of crimson. You felt euphoric, eyes pleasantly half-lidded as you stepped from your dress, bare-skinned and willing.

His touch evoked an enraptured ardor from you, a need so overwhelming that it seemed to wash over your core. Arousal hung heavy within the pit of your stomach, molten heat that oozed like honey between your thighs, scent ambrosial to Orlok.

The cool metal of his signet pressed against your jugular, nails cupping your chin. As he withdrew his lips from the hollow, stained in a sheen of crimson, he continued his trail of kisses along the nape of your neck, rumbling with a low rasp.

Each ragged, raucous breath he drew was accompanied by an invasive gust of your musk, vetch and bellflower, native wildflowers found within the Carpathian Alps. It was intoxicating, and he inhaled once more, lips sealed to your shoulder.

At last, he permitted you to look upon him once more, noticing the doe-like sheen to your gaze, the unusual fondness you held for him. Your desire mirrored his own, softer in-nature, but just as vivacious.

Without hesitation, your hands silently clamored toward his gaunt visage, a mask of ghastly appeal, features sharp and haggard. You wondered what he might’ve looked like in life — comely and regal, handsome; a true pylon of nobility.

Warm palms cradled his face, pads of your fingertips wandering across his cheekbones, over patches of decay and rot, over tangles of scars that would never fade. He seemed enamored — obsessed in an unholy sense, drawing to you like a shadow to a pious moon.

“Without thee, this hunger remains eternal — without thee, I cannot be sated.” The thunderous purr of his raspy cadence sent shivers down your spine, body calling out to him. This lust he filled you with was one of sheer ecstasy.

A simpering gasp ripped through your diaphragm, bringing with it a wave of want. It was as if your entire being was tethered to him in some supernatural manner — two souls, once adrift — now, two bodies joined as one.

Words turned to ash upon your tongue, and yet you conveyed your sentiments through your lips, coaxing him in for another kiss. This entanglement was of a primal sort — impassioned mouths, teeth, a moan emerging from your throat.

His hand held your throat, claws sweeping beneath your chin, along your jaw as he reciprocated with his own famine. He was ravenous, kissing you with a yearning fervor that made your flesh scream with a pleasurable fire.

“I burn for you,” It was a mewl, a wanton utterance that made his bones sing. Orlok snarled, a possessive sound, one that seemed to savor your vocalized lust. “Please, do not stop.” You pleaded, seeking his rotten lips once more.

There was a crawl to your kisses, but a necessary one. He withdrew, enough to shed his overcoat, a mountain of fur and fine fabric, now discarded alongside your dress. A hitch formed within your throat, longing to see his flesh.

A nail traced across your lower lip, holding your face with a smoldering possessiveness. Your gaze did not falter from the Count’s, whose pitch-dark hues burned with lust. Tenderly, you kissed the pad of his thumb, able to hear the hitched rasp of his breath.

With a longing embrace, your digits fluttered to the front of his fur-lined tunic, weathered and worn by time, finding the column of embroidered buttons. He did not recoil or foil your movements, pressing slow, hungry kisses to your jaw.

As you sluggishly began the process of disrobing him, you caught glimpses of rotting flesh, grey and ashen, preserved in his current state. To lay with a strigoi often meant that you would be forever tainted by darkness — tainted, you would be.

In life, ages ago, the Count was imposing and well-muscled, much of it still preserved, beginning to succumb to the slow gnarl of decay. Each warm stroke of your fingertips brought him to heel, craving you in a most abhorrent manner.

The silken-and-cord wrap that held the elongated tunic together came next, working in gentle silence as you untethered it from his person. Talons continued to grope at your body, leaving behind faint scratches, some deeper than others.

No longer burdened by the weight of sin, you felt weightless — able to drown yourself within his veneration, his obsession. It was a dark and twisted thing, an ungodly sentiment, and you remained unfettered.

It was your mouth that beseeched him for another kiss, mouths entangling, rough and hungry. The stiff, coarse bristles of his mustache scratched against your silky skin with each kiss, a low moan stirring within your throat.

He tastes dreadful — of ash and brimstone, like damp earth pulled from a tomb, and yet, your lips urge him to continue. Crimson stains sharp indents of teeth in the hollow of your shoulder from where he bit, now bruised.

Pushing his tunic aside, you were exposed to taut, haggard arms, his complexion grave-like, rotting — his perfection was unparalleled, in your eyes. Your palms spread wide against his bare chest, as cold as ice-laden snow, able to feel each heave of his hoarse breath.

The warmth he draws from you is akin to bloodletting, sucking the rot from a festering wound. He savors it, a kiss of light that he shall never taste, your passion blanketing him like sun warmed rays.

Wordlessly, you pull away, bare feet dancing across the deteriorating rug covering cold, stone floors. You move onto the bed, gossamer sheets ruffled from use, the curtains seeming to flutter of their own accord.

Sinking into the feathered duvet, you await his presence with bated breath, and he moves like a liquid shadow. You do not recall seeing him shift onto the bed to join you, clothing entirely absent. His physicality is pointed, spindly, gaunt — your breath hitches with excitement.

Patches of sinewy rot blanket his flesh like blotches of colour upon a canvas — time was not a generous creature. A lonesome beast, awakened by the grace of the maiden, you. He crawled over you like a shadow, a growl reverberating within his throat.

Drawing your legs apart, his tall, taut frame slithers between your thighs, each ragged breath one of obsession. His putrid musculature covers you, hand coming to cup your chin, elongated digits extending toward your crown.

Talons brush through your tresses, downy and soft, a stark juxtaposition to his wretched state. His gaze meets yours, evoking a subtle gasp from your mouth as you reach for him, palms finding their purchase at the nape of his neck.

The protrusions of bone are felt beneath your fingertips, the icy temperature of his flesh. Exhilaration stings your lungs, liquid heat becoming a swirling tempest within the pit of your stomach. One palm cradles the back of his skull, inviting him in for a kiss.

A moan sears your throat, bubbling forth before his mouth devours yours — frighteningly hungry, hips beginning to still against yours. You feel the swell of his member press into your core, setting your nerves ablaze.

Teeth scrape across your lower lip, dangerously sharp, like the serrated edge of a blade. His kiss is like that of a tempestuous storm — dark, foreboding, consuming — you wade into his waters with a girlish giddiness.

Reciprocating his kiss, you feel his claws begin to dig, raking against your scalp as his obsessive nature rages like a gust of furious wind. Whatever fleeting prick of pain you feel, it pales in comparison to twined mouths and the lap of his tongue.

A leathery palm encircles your breast, covetously kneading at the pliant flesh, nail flicking over the sensitive peak of your nipple. A gasp tore from your chest, lips colliding with his with such desperation, reveling in his caress.

Before him, before pledging yourself to him, you had never been touched — any kisses you received were fleeting and lifeless, momentarily bliss that lacked want. It was obsession you craved, the repressed desire to be coveted.

Lips moved in an ecstatic dance, a fervent union of flesh and lust, a twisted reverence. Carnality bled into your ministrations, your mouth paling in comparison to the domineering force of his kiss.

In one swift breath, his lips peeled themselves from yours, only to greedily smooth over the column of your throat. He worshiped your flesh, listening to the erratic pounding of your heart, hastily galloping with encroaching excitement, a sensual thrill.

Down, down — in a sluggish descent, Orlok continued his wet string of kisses, a low rumble coagulating within his chest. Like coarse bristles of a comb, his mustache tickled your flesh, mouth finding the pliant curve of your breast.

A myriad of whimpers escaped you, hands continuing to cradle his head, thumbs caressing along the nape of his neck. His noises were sounds of satisfaction, savoring the lively smolder of your skin as you stroked him.

Vigorous kisses planted themselves across your breasts, your sternum, above your heart — he did not bite, not yet. He was agonizingly slow, drawing out your pleasurable torment, causing you to writhe beneath him.

“My Lord,” You mewled, palms drifting towards your sides, fisting at the sheets as he slithered downward. A violent warmth stirred between your thighs, now slick with arousal. “Please, please …” Delicate pleas tapered off into whispers.

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝, 𝐦𝐲 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

It was his voice, so crystalline within the recesses of your mind — your body trembled, awaiting the inevitable wave of bliss. He offered his lust freely, like that of a shadowed plague that swept across you, gnawing away at your bones.

He inhaled — a hoarse, horrible sound that expanded throughout his diaphragm. The feminine scent that had mounted between your legs was nearly as tempting as that of blood, saliva beginning to pool within his maw.

With a lingering kiss pressed to the angular curves of your hipbone, the Count growled, mouth dipping further, until he reached the heat of your core. Claws raked across your thigh, pressing down into your supple flesh, leaving behind the marks of his possessiveness.

His tongue raked hot embers over your cunt, wet and ravenous as he began to lap at your core. Your noises emerged, unrestrained moans that tapered off into wanton whimpers. It was unexpected, his actions, yet not unwelcome.

Talons searched for your hand, dainty and delicate within his massive palm, fingers intertwining with your own. You used this as an anchor, heels digging into the bed beneath you as he greedily lapped at your aching slit.

Legs twitched and quivered from exhilaration, gooseflesh taking up residence along your spine. A wash of icy air fluttered across your stomach, over your breasts, nipples beginning to pebble with the sudden draft.

Sloppy, damp sounds resonate from below, the noises of a greedy, covetous creature whose hunger knows no bounds. His tongue possesses a mind of its own, dragging over your cunt in desirous strokes that leave you wanting more.

Fire unfurls from within you, a lustful burn that seeks to sear the both of you. It only grows in intensity with each flick of his tongue, snaking across your cunt as he savors your taste.

Joined hands rest atop your hip, his digits splayed over your lower stomach, claws occasionally piercing your flesh. No longer a stranger to the blissful pain he brings you, a moan leaves you, one that vocalizes the depths of your enjoyment.

“More,” You croak, back arching from the feathery surface beneath you, as if pulled into his darkness by some invisible force. He can taste your want upon your flesh, yearning oozing from your pores like sap from ancient bark. “More.”

The soft, desperate crooning lulls the Count into sating you, mouth greedily exploring your cunt, dipping into each crevice. It is then that his tongue laps over the pearl of your slit, causing a spasmodic tremor to pulse through your body.

A raspy, guttural growl shakes his throat, seeking the pearl of your cunt once more, dragging his tongue over it. You squirm, prompting him to continue, delivering long, wet strokes of his tongue to that sensitive clutch of nerves.

A crescendo of moans escape you in droves, your ecstasy vocalized to the black nothingness of your chambers. The curtains flutter, with bluish moonlight pooling in, its silvery glow tarnished by wisps of dark cloud, dancing across your body.

The Count continues to devour your cunt with his greedy laps and light graze of his teeth, hand snaking down to hold your thigh aloft. A tendril of drool drips from his lower lip, slavering as a wild animal would over their prey.

His tongue leaves you, shaking and forlornly, head angled towards the supple, velvety flesh of your inner thigh. With a sickening, wet sound, he bites into the skin, breaking it with ease as his mouth is filled with your tantalizing cruor.

A hapless mewl leaves you then, and from his wound, you feel a startling wave of ecstasy. Pain becomes pleasure, bliss — your hands are left to claw at the sheets, bringing the fabric into the confines of your tightly-wound fists.

Dexterous fingers seek to stimulate you even still, circling around your clit with a peculiar expertise. The muscle in your forearm flexes from use, tugging at the sheets with desperation. As he laps at your blood, your hips jolt into his palm.

He sups of your blood, tonguing over the freshly-made indent, still oozing with crimson. With a lap of his mouth, he moves to the pearl of your cunt once more, thin maw wrapping around it, stimulating you with his suckling.

Slurred cries of ecstasy slip past your lips, back arched, keening into any sliver of friction he offers. The air is stale, the scent of copper and decay fresh upon the wind, invading your senses like some noxious plague.

There is a primal messiness to his devourance, chin steeped in your blood, mouth latched to your cunt as he evokes bliss from you. A rush of white-hot delight sears your bones, blanketing you in a wave of pleasure, stomach swirling with a violent heat.

He brings you to your peak, claws digging into your hips, caging you in against his mouth. It is his unorthodox appetite that entices you so, an amalgamation of crimson ichor and your arousal, tongue sluggishly raking over your core once more.

Pitch-dark hues rove across your body, drinking you in, bewitched by your devotion. With a sluggish crawl, he begins to make his way along your form, mouth scraping across your flesh as he ascends, seeking to join you together.

The aftermath of your release lingers heavily between your legs, matted with your nectar and remnants of blood. A low snarl erupts from his throat, welcomed by the sensation of your silken digits cradling him once more.

It is he who kisses you — rough, unyielding, the piquancy of darkness. He ensures that you savor it all, the concoction of blood, your nectar, his unwavering veneration stinging your mouth.

Instead of repulsion, you were elated, clamoring to reciprocate his devouring kiss with one of your own. Your hand cups the back of his rotting skull, the other caressing around the nape of his neck. A wheezing inhale leaves him, as if he is attempting to swallow down your beguiling scent.

The incessant swell of his member nudges against your core, causing a shiver to roll down your spine. Talons rake along your flesh, scratching you like a hot-iron brand, his mark emblazoned upon your soul. He gropes at your breast, nails beneath your chin.

Each heated, consuming kiss leaves you struggling for air, each gasp one of desperation as you draw him closer. The closeness between you is one of a strange intimacy, his garish form bared to only you, a creature of gaunt bone and grey flesh.

Take me, take me, take me — your voice screams within your mind, like some incantation that you become transfixed by. Your Lord hears your cries, teeth drawing forth a drop of blood from your lower lip, skin breaking apart to reveal a pearl of crimson.

Without hesitation, his tongue drags across your mouth, taking with it your blood, setting fire to his lust. His spindly frame is enough to keep your legs apart, hips urging themselves against your own as his cock pushes into you.

The sudden intrusion makes you moan, foreign and unfamiliar, yet terrifyingly wonderful. His ragged breathing seems to hitch, his member taking root within your cunt as he sluggishly rolls against you. The pace he sets is somewhat erratic and rough, made to rut.

It had been many torturous centuries since he had last lain with a woman, the one who bore your countenance. The Count did not think of her now, focused upon you, this enchantress.

Some omnipresent force bids you to search for his gaze, black hues ensnaring you, visceral pits of carnality as his hips cascade into yours. Your body is flush against him, breasts heaving with delighted cries as you cling onto him like a drowning woman.

Friction dances between conjoined bodies, igniting your flesh with a feverish pitch as you feel his mouth clamor for yours once more. Unabashedly, you kiss him, tongue reaching into the cavern of his mouth, able to hear the soft wheeze from his throat.

Each prolonged snap of his hips send you reeling, cunt clenching around his cock, as if you are coaxing him deeper inside of you. He is sheathed like a blade within a scabbard, claws groping, scratching, reaching within you.

A brief ripple of pain wafts from your kiss-swollen lips, puffy from the bite he delivered. As tongues perform a desperate ballet, you hear him growl, a half-groan that coagulates within his maw, expressing his satisfaction.

Miraculously, your body bears the oppressive weight of his obsession with ease, blood slowly oozing from bites pressed into your hollow and thigh, marked by garish talons. Some have broken the skin, and yet your ardor for him remains entirely unvanquished.

The needy rut of his hips brush against your pelvis, cunt stretched around the swell of his cock. With another drag of thrusts, his possessive kisses come to a crawl, filling you with a twinge of disappointment. You miss the gravely chill of his mouth as he makes his descent.

He seeks your chest, a surge of sanguine ichor pumping throughout your veins, beside your breast. The Count does not intend to drain you, merely keeping himself satiated until the next dusk.

The rough pad of his tongue smooths over your jaw, planting a string of covetous kisses along your neck. Spindly, narrow digits press beneath your chin, holding your throat with a light pressure, claws extending toward your splayed tresses.

The notched bridge of his nose brushes along your jugular, teeth lingering beside your delicate flesh. You remind him of fine velvet, perfection beneath his hold, a plane of softness, all belonging to him. Invidious is he, seething with a yearning that only you can satisfy.

Still, he continues, his path of darkness one that leaves you wrought with exhilaration, continuing to rut your hips into his. The vigorous ministrations of his thrusts seem to momentarily pause, cock still inside of you, filling you in a way that only he can.

A pleading moan flutters from your lips, palms rooted to his ashen flesh, pillowing his rotting skull as he kisses along your body. Your back begins to arch, an incessant release mounting within you, arousal warm and slick between your thighs.

Honed, wet fangs seek the warm cavern between your breasts, sternum rising and falling with excitable sighs. A low, wanting snarl reaches your ears as Orlok bites into your chest, beside your left breast.

The damp crunch of teeth rending through flesh echoes throughout your chambers, accompanied by greedy, putrid gulps as he sups your blood. Pain blossoms throughout your breast, unfurling like the petals of a wilting flower.

There is an understanding of his appetite — you know that he would not bring about your demise, even if he willed it to be. The sudden swirling of your cruor within his maw seems to invigorate him, hips urging to life as his cock drives deep within you.

A whimpered gasp rips through your diaphragm, body reacting viscerally to the sudden drive of his being. Again, his pace is erratic, driven by lust and primal instinct above all else.

Wandering digits caress the nape of his neck, fingertips nearing the base of his skull, your other palm splayed out between his shoulders. You cradle him against you, feeling the arch of his physique as he ruts into you, pounding away at your cunt.

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐲 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 — 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐦��� 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞.

The hoarse baritone of his thunderous cadence invades your mind, making your thighs twitch, legs involuntarily squeezing near his pointed waist. Your cunt clenches once more, evoking a growl from within his chest as he drinks.

His head lifts, chin stained with crimson, teeth hidden behind his mustache. Pitch-dark hues rove across your pleasured countenance, finding you to be enchanting, beauteous.

Warm palms dance along his frame, causing him to hiss, a low, delighted sound that instills him with desire. The bite embedded within your chest oozes with crimson, crescent teeth indents likely to scar. He laps at your blood, feeling you shiver beneath him.

Nearing your peak, you writhe, clutching onto him, begging for more through strained whimpers. The Count does not cease, sluggish thrusts of his hips forcing his cock deeper, deeper — until there is nowhere else to go.

Reaching for one of your hands, he pins it out to your side, claws dragging across the feeble flesh of your wrist, coming to interlock your fingers together. It is a gesture that makes your bones burn, flesh searing with such fervent desire.

His hands dwarf yours in size, locking your arm into place, your other palm left to cradle his head. Warm, vermillion ichor oozes onto your chest, rivulets of blood trickling over your breasts.

Without hesitation, he openly rakes his tongue over the trails of crimson, seeking your sanguine cruor, cock urging into you with a sense of finality. It is then that his attention is drawn to your lips, swollen and agape, deliciously tantalizing.

Mouths join together through the ecstasy of your shared release, hips beginning to stutter as you rocked against him. His cock drove deeper still, driving into your cunt as you reached your climax. It was relief he felt, the sensation of fullness.

Upon his lips, you taste the coppery sting of your own blood, accompanied with his own stale breath, the coarse prickling of his mustache. You cry out into him, feeling him swallow your moans, eating your pleasured sounds.

Squeezing at his hand, he seems unfettered by your grasp, nails digging into his ashen flesh, body rolling into him once more before you begin to settle. The aftermath of your release is a dizzying one, white-hot haze blurring your senses.

A low purr reverberates from his diaphragm — a drawn-out sound that blankets you in a strange sense of comfort. He stills, mouth receding from your own, ogling the remnants of cruor left behind from your heated kiss.

“You are mine.”

Dacian is known to you, a captivating language that only sounds mysterious and dark from his tongue. You sink into the mattress, able to feel his cock inside of you, ministrations having ceased, and yet he remains.

You welcome it, digits stroking from the base of his skull to his sharp, defined features, like warm kisses peppering his icy flesh. Exhaustion floods through you like the crash of an ocean wave upon the rock, and you recline completely.

He does not move from you, blanketed across your body in a possessive way, head coming to rest entirely against your collarbone. It is your saccharine breath he feels wafting across his visage, like the first inkling of springtime.

Joined hands rest beside your head, and you feel elated — a joy not felt before in your melancholy lifetime. His monstrous frame does not detract, and in the silvery pools of moonlight, he seems more picturesque than ghastly.

“I am yours,” Through a tender whisper, your eyelids grow heavy with encroaching sleep, tired from what proved to be a lengthy entanglement. He had supped enough of your blood this night. “Forever yours, I will remain.”

As you drift away into a blissful slumber, your paramour remains, claws perusing through your tresses, allowing such twisted obsession to eat him alive. You sate him in a way that no other has done before — whole, fulfilled.

By the time the first light of dawn creeps over the line of the Carpathian Mountains, he is gone — but the stains of his teeth are not.

With contentment, you know that dusk shall come again, and you will be sated once more.

[kuri-karin]

finished the harveston event today so here’s a doodle dump of the boys in their applepoms !!!

☆⌒（＊＾∇゜）v

[bonsiii-art]

Ngl after that Longan art, I'm lowkey curious how the other dragons would look in your style. But only if you want to and have the time of course!

These sketches have been sitting in my files for a bit, so I thought it was high time to get these out. :P I did Ananas' costume look bc I've drawn their base design plenty of times (〜￣▽￣)〜 I did the bbies as a bonus! ☆⌒(*＾-゜)v

[amiableness]

Tulips BONUS

THIS IS A BONUS CHAPTER TO TULIPS 🤍

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sirius and reader forget to lock the door, and Remus walks in on them having sex.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: SMUT! Rem walks in on Sirius and Reader, oral (fem receiving), p in v, and a smidge of possessiveness and jealousy.

A/N 💌 This has taken me so long and I apologize! I would also like to say that smut is not my strong suit, so I sincerely apologize is this sucks. Also thank you to @moonlightspencie for all the ideas! Love you all!

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

If you had been in your right mind, you would have felt guilty. It wasn’t like you to make plans and ditch them without any notice. You could almost hear Remus’s disappointed sigh, and you knew that once you snapped out of your daze, the guilt would hit hard. But in this moment, with Sirius's lips gently nipping at your neck and his soft kisses soothing away the sting, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. The warmth of his breath against your skin and the tender way he murmured your name made it impossible to think of anything else. The world outside of his dorm simply didn’t exist.

The sheets of his bed are strewed about, and the coolness to them is long gone. He’s propped up beside you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. It had only been a few months since the two of you had gotten together, and his hazy effect on you had yet to fade. All he had to do was smile at you; you were putty in his hands. Sirius’s hands traced lazy patterns on your back, each touch sending shivers of pleasure through you.

You reassured yourself that you and Remus could always reschedule the study session for another night.

“S’pretty, angel.” Sirius murmurs softly as he pulls back, his breath warm against your skin. He drags his thumb slowly along your jawline, his touch gentle yet possessive. He watches the way your chest rises and falls, your breathing ragged and uneven. A smug smile tugs at the corners of his lips, knowing that he’s hardly done anything and yet, you’re already so worked up. The intensity of your reaction to his slightest touch fuels his confidence, making him want to tease you even more.

"Sirius," You whisper, your voice coming out much needier than you intended. The vulnerability in your tone is impossible to hide, but Sirius eats it up, his eyes darkening with desire. He revels in the effect he has on you, his smile widening as he leans in closer, the air between you charged with unspoken longing. “Touch me. Please.”

"I am touching you." He responds, his voice low and teasing. His hand trails down your body, fingers grazing your skin before pinching lightly at the outer flesh of your thigh, sending a jolt of sensation through you.

Your lips part in a gasp, and you quickly purse them, trying to regain control over your reaction. “You know what I mean.” 

“I wanna hear you say it.” He grins and for a second, you feel too shy to tell him what you need. But Sirius gazes at you with such intense love and desire that it leaves you breathless and lessens the sting of embarrassment. 

“I want you to finger me.” Your cheeks heat furiously, a an apprehensive look spreading across your face. Your fingers absentmindedly fiddle with the buttons on Sirius's shirt, the small task a futile attempt to steady your racing heart. The smooth fabric and cool buttons provide a comforting distraction. It wasn’t like he hadn’t touched you before. He definitely had, but summoning the confidence to ask for something like that was difficult for you still.

“That’s my girl.” Sirius praises, leaning forward to place a sweet kiss against your lips, as if to reward you for asking for what you wanted. 

When his lips met yours, it wasn’t rough or fast—it was gentle and soft, as if he wanted to take all the time in the world with you. He brushed his lips against yours with exquisite tenderness, his hands slipping into your hair and tangling in the strands, relishing the feeling of you pressed against him. His kisses were tender and unhurried, each one sending waves of warmth through you, making you melt into him completely. The sensation of his lips moving slowly against yours was intoxicating, drawing you deeper into the moment.

He shifted, his body covering yours, as he pressed soft kisses to your lips and then down to your neck, each touch filled with a tenderness that made your heart swell. You could feel his love and care in every movement.

He brushed his lips against yours, mumbling about how much he loved kissing you, making you smile against his lips. His hands trailed over your body, barely touching your skin but enough to leave goosebumps in their wake. When he reached your hips, he gave a gentle squeeze, eliciting a soft gasp from you. Sitting up, he used one arm to bring you up with him, his strength both comforting and exhilarating. He shifted so you were now sat in his lap, your thighs bracketing his.

You couldn't fathom how you had gone so long without kissing Sirius; now that he was yours, you never wanted it to stop. His hands trailed along your thighs, squeezing and massaging the flesh every so often, sending shivers through you. The way he touched you was both playful and reverent, making you feel cherished and desired in a way you had never experienced before.

"Sirius." You sighed softly, the sound carrying a mixture of affection and longing. You pulled back just enough to rest your forehead against his, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. His hands gently cradled your face, his touch tender and reassuring, as if he wanted to memorize every contour..

"Yeah, angel?" He asked softly, his voice filled with tenderness and a touch of eagerness. His eyes bore into yours, brimming with love and a hint of mischief, ready to give you anything you asked for.

“I need more.”

“Arms up, baby.” He told you as he pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it to the ground. Watching his eyes raking up and down your body made you dizzy. You let his eyes take in your body before tugging at the hem of his shirt, silently telling him that you wanted it off. Your chance to admire him, drag your fingertips over the dips and ridges of him, and listen to the way his breath hitched in his throat.

After years of pining after you, he could still hardly believe that he had his dream girl sitting on top of him and looking at him with so much love and desire. What did he ever do to deserve this? To deserve you?

“You’re fucking beautiful.” He mumbles as he slips his fingers under your white bra straps, letting them fall down your shoulders. His eyes tracked the movement, and you smiled softly at the way he watched you with so much admiration.

"Thank you. You're pretty beautiful too." You tease softly, circling your arms around his neck. Sirius responds with a devastating smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief and affection. You're so close that your noses nearly touch, the intimate proximity making your heart race. He places a quick, playful kiss on your nose, and the giggle you let out is pathetically lovesick.

"Damn right." He mumbles with a playful smirk, making you laugh.

You are about to reach around your back to rid yourself of your bra when Sirius stops you. Shooting you a cocky grin, he pushes your hands away from your bra to do it himself. The second your bra falls, Sirius lets out a curse. It has been months since you two first slept together, but every time he sees your body, it’s like the first time.

He swears that your tits are the most beautiful he’s ever seen. If he didn’t already know he was in love with you, that would be his clue.

His mouth closed around your nipple, biting gently, ripping a gasp from your throat. Your back arched into his chest to give him better access. His arm wraps around your waist to haul you closer to him. Beneath you, you could feel how quickly this was turning him on. His hair was wild from when you had your fingers running through his hair. Soft sighs were filling the room as he licked and sucked, alternating between both of your tits. The wetness between your legs was growing more apparent as he touched you.

He grabbed your waist and moved you off of his lap, pushing you down so that you were laid out underneath him. His hands slipped under the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down, bringing your underwear with them. Your first reaction was to close your legs, still shy at the idea of him seeing you like this. But he gently placed his hands on your knees and pushed them apart, whispering soft praises to you as he did so.

You sat up as he stood at the end of his bed, slipping his pants down. Wetness pooled between your thighs as his cock was released from his underwear. You weren’t sure you would ever get used to seeing him like this. A quick kiss was placed on your lips before his fingers brushed against your collarbone, pushing you back on the bed. With your back against the pillows and your legs spread, he finally got to look at all of you. All bare and glistening, and he swore he had never been harder in his life. He glanced up at you, asking for permission, and you nodded. Pressing kisses from your ankles to between your thighs, he slowly made his way to where you wanted him most.

“S’wet for me, love.” You could only answer with a whimper as trailed his fingers over your clit, causing you to sigh in pleasure. He was gentle, carefully watching your reaction as he teased you. 

He moved slowly as he began to circle your clit, taking his time to warm you up. His eyes flickered back to you, drinking in the sight of your head pressed back against the pillows, your eyes closed, and soft sighs falling from your lips. The gentle rise and fall of your chest and the way your body responded to his touch filled him with a mix of tenderness and desire.

Watching you laid out in his sheets, withering in pleasure, all because of him? It caused heat to build in his stomach as he considered the idea of this being his forever. He could spend the rest of his life worshipping you like this, and he hoped to Godric you would let him.

The moan you let out was pornographic when he replaced his fingers with his mouth, letting his tongue slide along your pussy. From the bottom to the top, he licked through your folds. You could feel yourself dripping down onto the sheets, but you knew he wouldn’t care about the mess you were making.

You knew there was no way you would last long. Between the way his fingers pumped in and out of you so deliciously and the way he sucked and licked at your clit so gently was driving you crazy. With your back arched and your head tossed back into his pillows, you whimpered out a plea for him to stop.

Sirius had pulled away from you instantly, worry etched across his features. The last thing he wanted was to do something that made you uncomfortable.“What’s wrong, angel?”

“Fuck. Nothing’s wrong,” You had to clear your throat in order to get the words out. “I just-” Sirius thumbed at your hip to comfort you, watching as you shifted so you were holding yourself up by your elbows and looking down at him.

“Can you fuck me?” Your voice trembled softly, your eyes flickering nervously between his. Sirius wanted to cry. Could you get any more perfect?

He didn’t trust his voice, so he said nothing, just leaned down to kiss your stomach before reaching beside the bed. He dug around in his drawer before grabbing a condom and ripping at the foil packet with his teeth. You sent him a soft smile, watching as he rolled the condom over his length and situated himself so he was between your legs.

Once settled, Sirius tenderly brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear and leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.

"Y’okay?" He asked, his voice laced with concern as he searched your eyes. You offered him a reassuring smile, feeling his warmth and care in the way he looked at you. 

His hands wrapped securely around your ankles, the warmth of his touch pulling you closer across the soft, rumpled sheets. Laughter bubbled from you uncontrollably as he leaned in, planting a trail of tender kisses across your cheeks and forehead. The sound of your giggles subsided, replaced by a moment of quiet intensity as he leaned back, his gaze locking onto yours with a mixture of affection and desire. Your heart raced at the way he looked at you, and without hesitation, you reached up, threading your fingers through his hair, gently guiding his face back down to meet yours in a lingering kiss.

The kiss quickly deepened into an intense exchange, each of you vying for control. Sirius’s hand brushed against the side of your body, trailing down to reach between your legs while the other held himself above you. Your lips parted into a gasp when he brushed against your clit, and he took the opportunity to kiss you harder.

There was no way you could attempt to lead the kiss with Sirius brushing circles over your clit. You could hardly even think really. How could you when it was Sirius that was between your legs?

He pulled away to sit up, gently repositioning you until you were situated at the edge of the bed. His palms circled your ankles, pushing back on your legs until you were bent in half for him. Pussy fully on displayed for him. A satisfied hum emanated from his throat as he brought his fingers back to slide through your wetness.

And it wasn’t long before his cock replaced his fingers, teasing your clit before sliding the tip inside you.

At the feeling, both of you let out satisfied moans. Sirius quickly grabbed your hands and intertwined your fingers before fully pushing inside of you slowly. “Godric,” He was nearly gone. “So fucking perfect.” All you could do was moan in response.

His thrusts began slow, sliding in and out of you at an agonizing pace, making you cry out at him to go faster. He didn’t listen.

“You look so pretty getting fucked,” He reached his right hand down, using his thumb to rub against your clit in the slowest circles. “You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart.”

If you hadn’t been so fucked out, you would’ve been embarrassed at hearing how wet you were. Your cries were desperate, pathetic. And if you were more coherent, you might have admitted that you weren't doing anything at all—it was all him. But you couldn't find it in you to complain.

“Faster. I need you to go faster.” You voice was as desperate as you felt.

“I’m being romantic. Fucking you nice and slow.” Sirius grins at the unimpressed look you send him.

“Fuck me harder. Romantically.”

Sirius laughs, but obliges you. Dragging his cock through your cunt just a little bit faster, a little bit rougher. If your reaction is any indication, the change in pace is perfect for you.

He watches, mesmerized as your tits bounced with the pace he was setting and the way your head was thrown to the side, eyes closed, and lips parted for your desperate moans to slip through.

His left hand traced the curve of your side, pausing to squeeze your side, traveling further down until he gripped your hip. It didn’t take long for the view of you fucked out and desperate underneath him for him to lose his patience. There was only so much he could take of watching your pussy take him him so well before he decided this pace wasn’t nearly enough.

When he slipped out of you, you desperately cried in protest. But with a light slap on your outer thigh, he encouraged you to flip over. You relaxed into the sheets, content to burry your cheek against his crumbled comforter. Sirius seemed just as content as he drags him fingers down your spine, both his palms coming up to massage and knead at your ass. Your skin prickled with goosebumps as he placed as kiss on your lower back, right at the swell of your ass.

Impatient, you wiggled your hips, “Sirius, please.”

“Just admiring my view, angel.”

“I need-” Your words die on your tongue as you feel his cock push past your folds, entering your without any resistance. He doesn’t hold back this time, eager to set a more brutal pace. The sounds filling the room are obscene, and he realizes that this is the first time you two are having sex where it isn’t considered making love. But he can safely admit that he loves all versions of sex with you equally.

Lifting yourself up so your back was pressed against him and your neck was exposed so he could press kisses against you. His arms slid around your waist, his right hand going up to grab at your tits as he nipped at your neck. Your legs felt shaky as he held you up and against him. The moans that filled your ears being this close to him drove you crazy. You didn’t think you would ever get used to hearing him like this. So fucked out and close to coming.

“Love, please go harder.”

“You want me to fuck you harder, baby?” You babbled incoherently in response, making Sirius grin.

“Beg me, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, Sirius! Please, I need more of your cock. I want you to take me, be rough with me.”

He pushed you forward, forcing you back on all fours. You let out a loud ‘fuck’ when he shoved his cock back into you, not sure how long you could hold yourself up. His hands gripped your hips tightly, keeping you in place, and he slid his cock in and out of you, the room filling with both of your moans.

“Is that what you wanted, baby? Wanted to be fucked harder?”

As he quickened his pace, you stuck your ass in the air and pressed your cheek against the bed, raising your arms above your head as he fucked you. Your fingers were tangled in the sheets, and you knew anyone walking by could probably hear you. Out of all the times you had been with a guy, you didn’t think you had ever been this loud. Each time he thrust into you, you let out a high-pitched moan, unable to stop yourself.

So focused on the feeling of Sirius fucking you within an inch of your life you don’t notice the door open. With your cheek buried in the sheets, you didn't hear anything, nor did you see Remus standing there, his features displaying a mixture of shock and jealousy. But Sirius did. For a moment, he faltered, eyes locking with Remus's in silent astonishment. Then your protests filled the room, snapping his attention back to you.

“I want you to cum in me, baby. Please.” Your voice was wrecked, the strain evident in every word, and Sirius’s eyes widened in surprise at your unexpected request. It was a shift he hadn't anticipated. He glanced up, catching Remus's intense glare, his expression a mix of disbelief and anger, before Remus abruptly turned on his heel and slammed the door shut behind him. The suddenness of Remus's exit left Sirius momentarily bewildered. 

How had you not noticed? Were you that fucked out for him?

Remus had stood there no less than ten seconds. And maybe it was because there was no way he had seen you. Not with the way you were angled and how Sirius had you pressed into the sheets. 

But a sense of smug satisfaction began to creep over him—tinged with possessiveness. Maybe Remus would back the fuck off now that he saw how desperate you were for his cock. How wrecked and desperate you were, eager to be filled with his cum. And while he couldn’t because he was wearing a condom—Remus didn’t know that. The next time he saw you, he knew Remus would only be able to think about how fucked out you were for a guy that wasn’t him.

He knew he would have to tell you what happened, but right now, with you begging so sweetly for him. He couldn’t resist.

He fucked you rough. Eager to hear your whimpers and cries as he buried himself deep inside of you, pushing you further and further toward the edge. Maybe it was fucked up; how he was turned on by the idea of Remus knowing that you got so desperate for him.

But he couldn’t help it. You were his. And he liked the idea of everyone knowing that. Especially  Remus, who was still very much in love with you.

“Sirius, I’m getting close,” You whined, your voice shaky as he pounded into you. “Gonna cum!”

“Shit. Cum on my cock, sweetheart.” You knew you could let go, he sounded like he wasn’t far behind you. You could tell by his quickened pace and sloppy thrusts.

When you felt him grab your hips hard and pound into you a few more times, you knew you could let go with him.

“Sirius! Yes, I-”

“I know, fuck. I’m gonna cum.” At that admission, your back arches as you feel your pussy squeeze around him. The moans leaving you were beyond loud, and you hoped to Godric no one had heard you.

“Fuck.” He grunted as he thrust one final time into you before squeezing your hips tightly. The feeling of him twitching inside you sent you over the edge. You let go, pleasure coursing through you as you felt your whole body shake as the feeling shot through your entire body.

“Jesus, baby.” Sirius mumbled as his head dropped to your back. You let out a giggle, understanding how fucked out he was feeling.

He slowly slid out, falling onto the bed next to you. You let your hips drop, moving so that you were on your side facing him. You were both breathing hard and knew you would need a shower and clean sheets after this.

"I love you. So much." You tell him earnestly, your voice brimming with sincerity. Sirius smiles softly at you, his heart squeezing at the sight of your messy hair and flushed cheeks. He reaches out, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering.

"I love you too, angel." He murmurs, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

Now, he just had to break the news about Remus.

[penddraig]

for once in their uncooperative lives,   it seems the two of them can finally afford a moment to sit and speak about the goings-on that have plagued their lives this past year.   perhaps even a year and a half :   he's hardly keeping track himself.   a whirlwind of happenings and phenomenons first before they could possibly rest.   but right now,   howl lies across one of the lounging chairs he's brought out by the lakeside,   arms crossed behind his head,   staring up at the sky.   some of the time ;   most others find him looking over at sophie for an extended,   possibly embarrassing   ( had she noticed,   but he always looks away when she looks back )   amount of time.   it's quiet,   and the breeze is nice,   and all he wants to do is bask in the good luck that comes with being alive after all.   at least past ten thousand days.

@alcrescendo.   ‘ my heart feels uneasy,   although i am free.   is it supposed to ? ’  ( from sophie mayhaps ? )

❝ i shouldn't be surprised to hear something like that coming from you,   ❞ comes howl's answer,   lighthearted and with a tinge of laughter in his voice.   yet when he looks over at her,   there's no sign on her that suggests she could ever have been the percipient old woman who had stuck with them all for so many months.   though she had been ailed physically,   she had never truly acted as any elderly woman would.   perhaps that in itself was why howl had never really felt a shred of guilt for giving her so much grief during that time.   fortunately for himself,   he feels it even less now,   watching the particularly way the red of her hair shimmers even when the sun hides behind the clouds.   the shade,   it seems,   does not seem to have much of an effect on her.   or perhaps she's only said it doesn't,   and all of existence merely agrees with it.

soon,   the width of his smile lessens and fades,   and he looks back out over the lake,   watching the image of the clouds move quickly across its reflective surface.   he can feel the peculiar beating in his chest once more :   it never fails to surprise him when he notices it.    ❝    life and what comes with it should make anyone uneasy.    ❞    still.   it's such a vulnerable question,   it nearly sickens him. he feels particularly slippery today.    ❝    but i think,   dear sophie,   you may be asking the wrong person about that.   you'll sooner get a better answer from michael.    ❞

.゜––   of fairytales, folklore and faekind.  /  𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗.