#HAPPY EARLY HALLOWEEN
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guilty-simppppp · 20 days ago
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a vampire charmed you and he laughs when you pray ✝️
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frog-in-a-cookiejar · 18 days ago
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FULL DISCO TECHNOBLADE
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grxndprix · 1 year ago
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Hey gorgeous! I love your writing! Its beautiful <3
I wanna request something like apologetic noncon? Like yan! Doesn't think its ok but still does it, whispering sorry to the reader, telling them that they're sorry for doing this but it's for their own good!
Would love it more if it includes a bit of breeding kink! Please write one on either Yuji or Yuta from jjk! I think they'll be like the that!
Lots of love♥️
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𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞.
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 — 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦! 𝘰𝘬𝘬𝘰𝘵𝘴𝘶 𝘺𝘶𝘶𝘵𝘢 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮! 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
𝘵𝘸 — 𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘦/𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘯, 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨/𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘨?, 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘢, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵
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Snowflakes painted flourishing kisses to the Tokyo streets. White specks of the substance coated all pavement and surface, and wandering eyes remained fixated on the sight. Winter days always felt so— Right. Like not a single thing was wrong about it, everything was just perfect. 
Such is the rapt glaze to [name]’s eyes. She was beautiful in every way imaginable — From the way her varsity jacket was much too big for her figure, to the scrunching of her nose at the bitter cold, to the little shivers of her body — She was the walking personification of what Ananke stood for. Temptation incarnate. 
The girl’s long lashes blinked languidly up at the building in front of her. She wan’t sure whether or not to head in, especially since the neighborhood was a bit shady— But the cold was too much, her nose was turning pinkish, and yet her nerves still stopped her from taking another step. She didn’t want to see him right now. 
‘Him’, pertaining to the boy she liked for about two years in high school. This was his apartment complex, she knew that, but he was also the only person she knew in this area of Tokyo. Surely he would let her crash for a bit, at least until she could call someone for a ride, right? From what she recalled, the boy was kindhearted and always willing to help, as much as she hated to ask in the first place.
[name]’s fingers brushed stray strands of hair away from her face, pushing her bangs back as well — White sneakers stepping into the lobby, already making it into the elevator before she even registered the decision. Her eyes trailed up to look at the floors passing by, unsure whether she’d chosen the right number or not. 
She leaned back on her heels, puffing out a cold breath of air. Even inside the building, her breath still slightly froze over. She prayed the man’s apartment would be nice and toasty.
Another breath and the elevator dinged to signal her destination. She stepped out onto the floor, immediately warming up. Her body felt the hot air from the heaters all around the walls, fingers less numb, brain less foggy, and nose less stuffy. Her eyes didn’t feel like bags of weight either.
The floors were soft, red, velvet carpet. She observed a few of the paintings on either side of her, realizing her apartment wasn’t nearly as nice as this.
[name] vaguely recalled the correct apartment number, having come over to study a few times. Those were all fuzzy memories by now though. She was an adult that hadn’t seen him in 2 years — She didn’t like him like that anymore. The girl wouldn’t mind being friends, however, and that was the most probable outcome of the ordeal. Plus; she already fancied someone else. Her best friend (and roommate), Maki Zen’in — Honestly, [name] was completely enamored with her.
The girl ran a hand through her hair. A low buzzing started beneath her skin. Maybe it was the purple-ish ochre of the walls, but she’d come to realize how it smelled strangely of metal the closer she got to the room.
Pungent — And, addictive. She stopped in front of the door, momentarily allowing hesitation to stop her. But still, she knocked. 
No answer besides the sound of things clattering inside.
She knocked again— And this time, the door swung open quicker than she could blink. Wintertime was odd, because for a moment, the boy’s eyes flickered with a burning bloodlust— Gone with a blink.
Okkotsu Yuuta was a kind man. His gunmetal blue hues flicked from her nose up to her eyes, but it hardly took a second for the brightest grin to light up on his face. His smile lines — and eyebags, she noted — crinkled upward, canines glinting under the overhanging lamp. 
“[name]—?!” He sounded almost breathless, surprised, but most of all, happy to see her.
The fact that she’d never told him her name in highschool went right over her head. [name] mirrored his smile, pupils dilating at the sight. “Yuuta!” A chuckle slipped past her lips, pleased that he remembered her at all. Maybe, if fate would have it, they could really be friends.
“Ah— Please, please, come in! It’s freezing out in the hall— Man, they really should get heaters—” He offered with a chuckle of his own, noiret hair bouncing while leading her inside. His cheeks were decorated in a slight pink. She deduced it was from the cold. 
They had settled on the couch — Fireplace burning, heater on, hot chocolate in their hands. [name] didn’t really want to leave at this point, it was too cozy. Like a fox to its burrow, an eagle to an aerie, something about this just felt so right. She ran a ringed hand through her hair, hoping she looked somewhat presentable.
She’d changed a lot since high school, and in the best way possible, she hoped he would see that.
“Awh, man, I really wasn’t expecting to see you today! N-Not that it’s a bad thing!” He was quick to correct, cheeks darkening pink again, “I just— I haven’t seen you since our senior year, so this was a really nice surprise…” The man rubbed his nape, laughing airily. [name] noticed how even if his mannerisms hadn’t changed, he looked a lot more— Well, different. His hair was less ragged and way better kept. He had a very lean physique, visible despite his oversized clothing. His gaze was a bit sharper now, and his voice— 
Overall, he had changed quite a bit. [name] wondered if he noticed the little things about her too.
“No, it’s okay sweetie!” She held back a laugh at his flustered expression, “I was originally going to stay in the lobby to call a friend, but it was too cold down there— And, ah, I remembered coming here to study a few times, so yeah! I really hope I’m not imposing.” It was [name]’s turn to look bashful, eyes averted to the table.
“Don’t even worry about it! I’m happy you’re here, it’s a chance for us to catch up, y’know?” That same kind tone, that same raspiness and gentleness — Yuuta hadn’t changed that much, she supposed. He was still that same shy, soft-spoken guy he’d always been. It was endearing in its own way. 
A sip of her hot cocoa, “You’re right… How’ve you been, then? Like you said, it’s been a while.”
Yuuta hummed, sipping at his drink as well. “Well… I’ve been pretty good all in all. Being a sorcerer is a lot of work, so I still have a bunch of missions but besides that, I’d say I’m living a pretty laidback lifestyle right now.” He smiled earnestly, “What about you, sweetheart?”
The petname would’ve garnered the same reaction from her if she hadn’t seen the way his eyes flicked down to rake her figure, then back up in a blink once more. Her hands absentmindedly tugged the coat tighter around herself, willing her mind to remember his kindness and hospitality. Self-conscious — She was imagining things. “Honestly, same for me. I’ve been holding up alright after quitting the whole sorcerer thing— I’m glad it’s going well for you though! My part-time job’s really fun, and a lot less, well y’know, life-threatening.”
She emphasized her words with finger quotations, earning a laugh from the man next to her. She didn’t catch the way he watched her lips wrap around the edge of the mug with the focus of a man releasing his arrow. [name]’s tongue swiped along her bottom lip, and Yuuta’s smile illusioned straining. 
As their conversation continued, the banter grew more and more light-hearted. It sounded like they were long-time friends rather than just-meeting-again acquaintances. The girl would laugh at the boy’s little jokes or comments, and he would smile at each and every word out of her mouth.
Things were winding down, clock ticking faintly in the background. The fireplace was still crackling with newfound energy, and 3:26 A.M. flashed along [name]’s phone screen. Her body felt light, that low buzz from before returning tenfold, movements sluggish and less thought behind them. A little height to her psyche.
Yuuta picked up on every little twitch and movement of her figure, every single word out of her lips, every little reaction she had to offer. It was almost ritualistic — [name] would yawn, or sigh, or laugh, and Yuuta would blush, or giggle to himself, or grab a pillow to put on his lap.
3:27 A.M. She should’ve been home hours ago. She can imagine Maki’s terror to coming home to an empty apartment, completely barren— Oh, right. She was supposed to get groceries for the two of them. 
[name] hadn’t even realized how close Yuuta was by now. His arm was slung over the rear of the couch, fingers ghosting along her back at times. His breath painted butterflies along her neck every now and then, eliciting shivers and another tug of her jacket. Tighter just wasn’t tight enough.
The girl stretched her arms out in front of her, ignoring the way they trembled just slightly. She made a move to stand with confidence akin to a mortal in front of deities. “Well… I hate to cut this off right now, but I really should get going… My roommate is probably waiting for me back home.” She didn’t look him directly in the eyes— Couldn’t.
Yuuta hardly wasted a beat before standing up too, hand casual in its place around her waist. “Oh, are you sure? It’s really late, sweetheart… Don’t wanna wait until morning or something?” His eyes innocuous and slightly off-putting as he tilted his head, [name]’s trepidation blossomed into something worse. She waved him off, subtly realizing her movement to get out of his hold didn’t do anything.
“Nah, it’s fine! Like I said, I don’t wanna worry my roommate… Thanks so much for letting me stay over hon’, this was really fun.” [name] reached for her phone, ready to call Maki now that she had WiFi— Only to find that her phone… wasn’t… on the table.
Huh.
A pair of hands gently guided her waist to sit back down, a bit too close to his own frame, she realized. Silence settled over the pair — But something else settled in her stomach too. Pit-like, heavy, dread. 
One of those hands rubbed circles on her thigh, the other still slung around her hip and under her jacket. It was intimate. Too intimate. Black hair and gunmetal eyes, soft pink lips — Proximity closing in, she felt her breath hitch. The sluggish drive beneath her movements was getting worse, eyes blinking languidly. She was losing herself.
“Y’know…” He began, “Being a Jujutsu sorcerer’s helped me keep some discipline. I think I’ve subconsciously created some rules for myself, and it’s a ton of use, honestly.” Yuuta rested his chin on her shoulder, gentle smile transforming into something more sinister.
[name] felt her body shiver under his ministrations, only nodding so everything would end faster. He would stop talking, let her go, and she’d hopefully never have to see him again—
“Rule number one, and this is the one that’s saved me a bunch,” There was an odd glint in his eye as he sat up straight again, grabbing her mug of hot chocolate to drop it on the floor. She flinched at the sound of it shattering, hand instinctively reaching out to grab it— But it slipped right through her fingers.
It felt like time stopped when the liquid, previously in the mug, shrivelled up and morphed into some kind of powdery substance. 
“Never drink anything you didn’t make yourself.”
Yuuta’s eyes flashed a brief electric blue, just before his hands found purchase on [name]’s wrists. The couch creaked under their weight as she cried out in the spur of the moment, a cracked whimper that hardly made it past her lips.
Everything blurred together. He had wrangled her into the perfect position, carrying her over to his room and tossing her onto the bed. Hardly another second, and he was on top of her once again, wrists pinned above her head. Yuuta’s bangs mingled with hers when he leaned down to press their lips together, tongue easily slipping into her mouth.
The headboard groaned with their movements. Sighing quietly to himself, his face decorated in cupid blush — He pulled back from the kiss to pepper the rest of her face, wet with tears, in more gentle adorations. “Ah, ‘m sorry, ‘m so sorry sweetheart—” He mumbled over and over again, way too high on the feel of her to really process much else.
In her drunken stupor, [name]’s body couldn’t do much to stop him. It seemed only her lips were working their purpose, spouting pleas for him to “Stop, please, just stop—”, to no avail.
She felt her jacket get slipped off her shoulders, even more panic aroused within her now. In a matter of seconds, all clothing covering her top half had been discarded among the floor. Yuuta’s hands found purchase on her breasts, kneading them under his fingers and pinching the pebbled nipples as his lips went further down her torso.
Teeth bit into her collarbones, neck, tits, stomach — Eventually reaching her sweatpants as well. The girl hadn’t stopped pleading for one second, weakly tugging at his hair to stop him, but it only earned a satisfied groan from the boy.
His canines tugged at the hem of her bottoms, eventually working them down so he had a fresh view of her pretty panties. He couldn’t hold back another low groan, it coming out as more of a whimper if anything. The guilt was eating him up inside, but he had to do this. For [name]’s own sake.
Yuuta dragged a slow finger through her clothed folds, relishing in the jerk it earned from her body. He tugged the panties down, finally, and wasted no time in latching onto her clit with his mouth. The whimper that followed was less quiet now, moreso delighted as he licked up every last drop from her folds. It didn’t matter how much she was squirming, his strong hands held her thighs firmly in place.
He worked his expert tongue along her clit, occasionally dipping into her hole — But it wasn’t long before his fingers worked their way inside instead. Two fingers scissored her apart, gasps and cries filling the room at the utter pain that didn’t evolve into pleasure. Her body wouldn’t move an inch, trembling under all the stress but unable to fight back at all.
After the third finger was added, and he was sure she was all ready, Yuuta pressed her thighs to her chest, releasing his cock from its restraints with a low hiss. Apologies were already bubbling on his tongue, dragging the tip through her dripping folds with satisfying ease. [name] couldn’t help it — She was sobbing by now, begging him to stop, that if he quit it right now and let her go, maybe they could forget about this—
But he was already pushing into her, a string of curses leaving his swollen and puffy lips. His eyes were bright and electric-kept, cheeks ever so bright pink. Hardly a second of still hips before he was rolling into her in quick and harsh thrusts, bed shaking with the force. “Shh— Please, please— I’m sorry, ‘m so, so sorry sweetheart— You’ll understand later, you’ll get it, I promise—” 
There were a number of things he said that rendered [name] speechless every time, that low buzz in her skin growing into white noise — It blocked everything else out of her ears.
“Been— Fuck— Been watching you since h-high school— Ngh—” He pointed his thrusts even deeper, canines digging into his bottom lip. “Noticed how b-beautiful you were, but you always— covered yourself up around me. Tugged your— Your sleeves down, sucked in your stomach— It always had me so confused– Haah, fuck,” He cut himself off with another sharp thrust, whimpering again when her pussy unconsciously clenched around him.
“You’re beautiful, [name]. Why don’t you— See that, h-huh? This was the only way to make you see it, to help you understand just how—” He rolled his hips up to meet hers, leaning down to lock eyes with her own as well. “F-Fucking perfect you are. ‘M sorry, so sorry it had to be like this, but it’s okay. We have all the time in the world.”
Yuuta’s words were a perfect dissonant harmony to [name]’s whines and pleads, trying to tune out anything he said. His pace grew sloppy as his hips stuttered, climax nearing. The girl’s eyes widened in pure, utter terror.
“Once I give you a child, y-you’ll learn how to love yourself along with them.” His words were final, despite how her eyes had widened to the size of saucers. Pace increasing drastically, earning high-keening whimpers from [name], Yuuta finally shot ropes of white into her walls, coating it in such heavy amounts of the thick liquid it started to seep out of her cunt.
Heavy breathing rang out in the room, painting it in a cacophony of blissful tears. The girl’s face was decorated in sweat, tears, and some of her hair stuck to her cheeks. Her bare chest heaved up and down, eyes shut tight as she wouldn’t dare meet Yuuta’s gaze. Not in a million goddamn years.
The boy ran a hand through his hair, not bothering to pull out as he laid next to her. She couldn’t move anyway, so he just pulled her close and rested his chin atop her head. [name]’s eyes were dulled over, lips quivering as tears still poured forth, as if she was still processing the entire thing.
He’d thought that once it was over, he might need to cry everything out, not even be able to go forward with his plan out of pure remorse, but, — In the aftermath of it all, he felt every ounce of guilt wash away.
Love has its sacrifices. Some people are just willing to give up more than others.
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𝘱𝘭𝘴𝘴𝘴𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘪 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥��𝘥 𝘪𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘰𝘬 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘹 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘶 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 ☆
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fifiophobia · 1 month ago
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Madoka and Homura as Bubbline💖🖤
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aplaceforyourhearttorest · 1 month ago
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It Will Come Back 🕮⛧ James Hetfield (18+)
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Part Two of Summon Me
Mentions/Warnings: demon!james, oral sex while standing/carrying receiver, fingering, minor blood play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie
Glass bottles' bottoms are clacking themselves together in a loud and rhythmic unison as your roommate hurries her way back inside of your guys' shared dormitory and kitchen, and the abrupt way she nearly drops them on the dining room table in front of you, has you jumping in shocked fright. You're unable ask her what's wrong, before she's manically reaching into the paper bag to rip a beer out of a six pack.
"God, I fucking hate Halloween," she expels during a small pause in between her taking large gulps of the lightly colored beverage. "I swear, it feels like every year since we ended up doing that séance, we've been cursed." Your eyebrows raise on their own accord, and you can't help but laugh in disbelief.
"We, as in you and me, we? Because from what I remember, I came home and found you and your friend drunk off your asses, with a ouija board and a burnt planchette on the living room floor." You raise your hand to solidify your statement by showing off the healed scar on your palm, and only relax back into your seat once she sends you an apologetic smile and tosses her empty bottle in the direction of the trash can.
"Yeah, sorry about all of that," her tone is dismissive, yet soft, and you lower your hand back down onto your book as she moves closer to you by sliding her elbows against the wood. Lifting her forearms to hold her hands together to rest her chin on top of them, you see her fight off a shiver and purposefully look around really slowly. "But you can feel it too, right? It comes and goes every few weeks, but I swear, it always gets colder and darker this time of year. And the fucking scratch marks on the cabinets get longer each year too. I swear I'm not crazy."
You purse your lips to hide your smile, and lift up a shoulder in response as you pinch the used and worn pieces of paper together in the back of your novel. "I think whatever happened that night, you definitely invited something in here, and it just likes to mess with you is all," using a rugged and already half torn edge of the page you stopped on to dog ear it for later, you close your book and go to move your chair back, but stop when you notice the look on her face.
Using her left index finger that's free from underneath her chin, she points at you and narrows her eyes. "What do you mean?" She interrogates, and you force your expression to remain neutral, even as your fingertips turn white as you tighten your hold around your item. "You said me, instead of we. Is there something going on that I don't know about? Have you and Steve been fucking with me?"
You're pushing your chair from further behind you with the backs of your knees by the time she has her eyes narrowed in on you, and you perceptibly shake your head. "I haven't said more than five words to Steve within the past three years he's been around, much less have conspired with him to make you any more paranoid than usual, roomie."
A shrill scream comes from a few feet away from the partially open back door and outside, and this time, it's your roommate that jumps, and then screams. Red and multicolored led lights are displayed and emanating all throughout your dormitory from all sides from the other surrounding homes, and for a second, she looks like she's in a horror movie. A handful of children running around laughing can be seen through the crack, before she lets out a frustrating sigh and kicks it to a full close. The chain is colliding with the doorframe and then bouncing in place by the time she's grinding her teeth together, and you hesitantly take a step back.
"I think I'm just going to head to my room and finish this up," you murmur in the now completely silent home, and nod your head towards the recyclable bag she came running in with just a few minutes ago. "Make sure to save some for the friends you invited over last week, and happy early Halloween." You take her eyes widening in recollection as enough of a goodbye to turn around and start walking down the hall, only to pause at the obvious burn mark still etched into the wood of your guys' shared living room floor.
To this day, it looks brand new, even after your roommate and her friend tirelessly attempted to scrub it away, in fear of the owner of the house seeing it and deducting even more money from the down payment you two put down after every lease renewal. The sliver of scarred skin itches on the edge of your palm, and excitement whirls in your midsection. Peering over your shoulder to look at the clock and then into the entryway of the kitchen, you hastily and excitedly pace the rest of the way to your bedroom, before locking the door behind you and tugging out the folded up pages from the back of your book.
Using the now blue and purple lights flashing their way through your bedroom's curtains to carefully open the paper from the spell book you stole two years ago, you smile down at the full incantation, before setting it down to get the rest of your supplies. In less than thirty minutes, you'll be seeing him again.
Three large candles are placed right in front of your crossed legs and bent knees, and you place the new and sterilized needle on your thigh, with your eyes anxiously glancing back to the digital clock resting precariously on your desk every few seconds. As soon as twelve makes itself apparent in the bright red numbers being displayed, you're leaning forward to read the already memorized short spell out loud, and carefully pricking your right index finger.
"I summon thee, on the night on Halloween, to feast upon me in the hopes of everlasting fulfillment."
The wet and darkened bead travels itself down your fingertip in a slow and taunting pace, before collecting at your nailbed, and dripping down onto the page. A steady stream of cold air wafts its way over to you and causes goosebumps to raise on your bare skin, and you grin instead of jolt when two hands are audibly smacking themselves on your nearest bedroom's window. Two bright irises stare at you through your nearly see through fabric, and a brush of heat collects itself as James' sharp teeth greet you from the other side of the glass.
You're on your feet before your head can catch up with the rest of your body, and your hands shake as you eagerly unlatch the window's lock on it and push the aged wood upwards. "You know you can just appear in my bedroom like usual, you didn't have to wait outside." Your voice somehow sounds stable in spite of the insurmountable adrenaline pumping through you, and you allow yourself to be guided backwards as he makes his way inside and delicately beckons you back with a large hand.
Thick and long, sharp nails mold themselves around the curve of your waist, and he grins down at you, before peeking his narrowed tongue out to dampen his lips. "As if I would be alright with doing the exact same shit every year," he responds in a lazy drawl, his eyelids barely fluttering in a blink as he hungrily takes in every inch of you. "Especially with you, after finding out how much you enjoy the dramatics."
You scoff and lightly push at his shoulder, your breath catching in your chest as he wraps his other hand around your wrist to pull you flush against his front. "And who keeps digging their nails into the same cabinets every year to scare my roommate?" You shakily breathe, your earlier adrenaline turning into needily want as the hand he has on your waist grazes down to the upper hem of your underwear and shorts.
James amusingly hums, before bending down to brush your foreheads together, his grin transforming into a smirk as he notices you stopping yourself from inching forward. "And yet, who keeps summoning me back every year in tradition, hm?" The question is whispered into the small swell of cold air in between you two, and he immediately responds to you after you jerk forward to slot your lips with his.
Tendrils of his blonde hair make contact with your bare shoulders as he lifts you and presses you up against the wall, and they connect with yours as he frees a hand to use it to tilt your head upward. The sharp nails dig deliciously into your sensitive skin, and he grunts in praise when you obediently open your mouth at the first tap of his fingers on your jaw.
The rough texture of his tongue is the complete juxtaposition to yours, and it somehow makes everything even more stimulating. His slim appendage slides out from his own wet cavern to lap at your own, and the hold he has on you tightens as you use your own to lick a slow and tantalizing line on the roof of his mouth. The sound of you two disconnecting is sopping wet and filthy, and warmth pools in your groin as he cleans up the strands of saliva still keeping you two together with the tip of his tongue, before swallowing them down.
"Missed how good you taste," he admits softly while looking in your eyes, and you're fully relaxed in his hold by the time he's nudging your head to the side to suck marks into your clavicle. Your legs raise to shakily wrap themselves around his middle as his teeth teasingly scrape against your reddened skin, and you feel his smile as your pulse quickens underneath him. "Here," he hums, and smiles to himself at the gasp you let out when he lifts you up another few inches. He's pressing his open mouth on your clothed breasts and inhaling in, like he can still taste you through the fabric. "Here." Your legs loosen and unwrap themselves as your knees graze his ribs, as he raises you even further. Hard and hot impressions grow against your chest as he's using his nails to rip your shirt into two, and you moan once you realize his horns are beginning to grow.
Thickened saliva pools at the front of your flimsy bra before it's torn apart, and you bite back a wail as he fills his entire mouth with your tit. His incisors retreat as he creates hickeys around your perked nipple, and his own moan reverberates around the room as you loosely make fists around his horns and hold onto them for desperate leverage.
He only separates from you to lick the taste of your own flesh into your mouth and partially greet you with a devilish and wolfish grin. "I need you to hold on tight for me, doll. Think you can do that for me?" His deliverance is borderline condescending, but you can't find it in yourself to care as he positions you to have your legs resting on his shoulders, and then he's squatting down. "What are you doing?" Is barely being stuttered out, before he's sliding the cotton fabric of your shorts and underwear to the side, and making out with your pussy.
The sound that escapes you sounds like a scream, and you couldn't be more grateful to the music your roommate began playing just minutes after you headed to your bedroom. James takes his time taking you apart, with each of your lips and your clit being licked and lapped at, and sucked into his hot and searing mouth. If you weren't holding onto his horns for grounding, you'd be gripping your hands in the strands of his hair, or reaching up to dig your nails into the ceiling.
James is hungrily slurping in and dripping out your essence and slick repeatedly as he travels and maps his way through your folds and down to your entrance. Heat jolts down your spine, and you go ramrod straight as your first orgasm pummels into you by the time he's got the tip of his tongue drawing circles and rimming itself against your fluttering hole. He's moaning as you bead and gush around him, and his movements become even more lively after he feeds off of your pleasure and energy.
Panic temporarily sifts through you as your back is being removed from against the wall, but you're placated as he holds onto your waist stands back up to his full height. The top of your head makes light contact with the ceiling of your bedroom, and your thighs shake around his head as he blindly walks you both over to your bed, with his lips still pursed and parted against you. A shocked bout of laughter bellows its way out of you as you're playfully dropped on top of your blankets and sheets, and your widened eyes soften at his rocked and disheveled state that greets you once you look up.
A sheen of your own release is covering the entire lower half of his face, and his eyes grow dark when you decide to lift your still slowly bleeding finger and bring it up to his lips. Red flashes to an almost black as he welcomes the press of you in, and your eyes nearly cross as he secretes a salve to your wound after suckling it clean.
"Do you remember what I gave you permission to do to me, three years ago?" You implore once you're sure your voice isn't going to shake and betray you. You can see him trying to figure it out on his own, but he's too high over your newly transferred vigor and blood that he can't wrap his head around your question. Encircling a hand around his wrist like he had done to you earlier, you hungrily lick at the residual shared tasted of you both of your lips, before guiding his hand down to in between your legs. "I said you could use me, and feed from me."
James' cockhead spurts prerelease in the confines of his jeans, and his hips buck forward on their own once his hand is placed to rest on top of your pussy. Making the conscious and safe decision to retract his nails before sliding and curving his index and middle fingers inside of you, his chest heaves at the sinful sound you make when he does. Circling his digits to rub his fingertips against your spongelike spot until your strings of arousal are nearly wrapping themselves around his wet wrist, his teeth begin to pang with the exertion of having to keep his fangs at bay.
"You can't even imagine the things I want to do to you, sweetheart," he purrs, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth as venom stings against his gums and his horns elongate to their full height. He drives his fingers up into you to their hilt, and then pulls them out until they're nearly completely out of you. "I want to sink my fangs into your jugular and drink you dry, and then feed you my own to heal you. I want to fuck you until you're full of my seed and then eat it out of you, and have you suck the taste of yourself off of my tongue. I want you to feel me whenever you sit down for the next week."
Your eyes roll back, and your legs seize once he adds in his ring finger, and you can't stop yourself from bending your legs against the side of the bed, and yanking yourself down to try and ride them. James beads in his briefs, and a wet stain is visible through his fabric, even in the near pitch black. Red irises stare down at you, and then almost slam shut as he watches you relentlessly try to fuck yourself up and down his digits. "So fucking needy, aren't you? Has it really been that long? I thought it's only been a little bit over a week."
You sit up in a shock when he begins to scissor his fingers inside of you, and the new position has him pressing directly against your spot with the full weight of his hand. You cry out and place your hands on his forearm to stop his movements, and the tremors in your lower half have you shaking uncontrollably and shifting the blankets and sheets on your bed. "Isn't the same when it isn't Halloween, you don't have your horns," you stumble around and freeze in euphoria when he ignores your silent plea to stop. A full circle of his wrist and a come hither motion has you letting go of his arm to fist his shirt instead, as overwhelmed and overstimulated tears make their way down your cheeks. Regardless of how hungry and insatiable he's feeling, James is careful when he removes his fingers from inside of you, and he pauses in place when you refuse to let go of his cotton. Sucking in a shuttering inhale and blinking around the salty sting, you motion for him to take off his shirt, before only letting go to reach down and shakily unbuckle his belt. "I want to ride you."
Your trembling right hand is pressing itself against his swollen dick before he can even verbalize an answer, and you use the rest of your strength to pull him down on top of you, and then flip you guys' over. Tears slightly blur your vision as you unstably unbutton his jeans and tug them down past his upper thighs, but you can still recognize the awe in is gaze. A human version of a hand is running itself through the mane on the side of your head, and you pause your ministrations to lean into the hold, and then his briefs are falling down with his pants. "You don't have to if you aren't up for it, doll. I saw you almost slip into subspace earlier." He gasps as you curl a fist around his length after licking your palm slick beforehand, and the gentle grip in your hair tightens. You mewl at the sensation, and carefully shake your head as you gather yourself and stabilize while straddling his lap.
His free hand comes down to hold you upright as you reach back to grasp onto him, with him hissing at the sensitivity as his cockhead brushes against your still sopping entrance. "Wanna take care of you, just like you take care of me," you almost whisper, and your train of thought gets temporarily lost as you slowly sit yourself down on his dick. The slight twinge of pain is still there regardless of his earlier fingering, and you sigh in relief as his wide girth stretches you to your brink. "You always fill me so well, like you were made for me." The hand on your side pinches itself into your skin, but you ignore the slight discomfort as you fully position yourself up onto your feet. Placing both of your hands on his naked and sweating middle, you both curse out loud with the first slide.
The first time you bottom with your full body weight, your legs almost give out from underneath you, with him pressed so perfectly against your cervix it almost brings tears to your eyes. The hand in your hair slides down to grip onto your ass, and then moves forward to begin to tease at your swollen and bulbous clit. "I was made to fuck you just like this, and for you to use me," James breathily responds, his skin overheating and burning as you bounce up and down his length with reckless abandon. Every single swing of your hips and stuttered pulsing thrust has him spurting small beads of precum in you, and when he feels the telltale sign he's going to cum, he flips you two around. "I can't have my good girl doing all of the work herself, now can I?"
He's burying himself fully into you and sheathing his girth into and against your stretched out and slick walls before you can answer, and all you can do is hold on. The blankets and sheets beneath you shift and crumple in, and you have to wrap a shaking leg around him in fear of sliding off the bed with the force and desperation behind his thrusts. The sounds coming out of you sound strangled and animalistic, and they turn into teary jerks of his name when he reaches down in between you two to stimulate you even further.
He barely even has to tap his thumb against you, because you're already falling apart. You've had countless amounts of rounds of sex with him sporadically over the past few years, but it never feels the same or becomes tiresome and boring. You reach up to dig your nails into his back's skin, knowing that he likes a little bit of pain of his own, and he's bearing himself into you so harshly and deeply, your top halves are sliding off the bed.
A hand is taking the brunt of the fall near your head, and you're nearly bent in half as he continues to use you for his own gain. The new position has your eyes rolling in the direction of the back of your head, and you can feel his skin breaking underneath your fingers as you hold on for dear life. The next piercing thrust has you silently gasping and going completely pliant and numb in his grasp, and you slowly fade off as your third orgasm within the last half an hour shoots through you. James is still pistoling himself in and out of you, before your abused and sore pussy walls constrict in just the right way, and he's filling you with his seed.
Shakily using his knees still pressed against the bed to carefully glide you two down to fully lie down on your carpeted floor, James places kisses to the crown of your head and rubs small circles in your side until you slowly start to resurface and come back to. "There you are." He greets you, his tone hoarse from his own moans and from how spent he now is, regardless of how much he just took from you. Your eyes are refocusing on him and then your eyebrows are furrowing at the itchy fabric being pressed into your forearms. Looking further down and seeing where you two ended up, you're only able to maintain a few seconds of calm eye contact with him, before you're both shaking in silent and hysterical laughter.
The room becomes completely dark once the candles meet their end less than a handful of feet away, and the neighboring lights fade as their owner's head to bed. Tiredly lifting your head to lean forward and kiss him with as much energy you can muster, you smile against his bruised red lips, and murmur, "happy Halloween." The same sentiment is being gently said back to you, and James holds onto you until you catch your breath and go to clean up, and until the morning sun threatens to rise.
You hold back a shiver as the wind from your open bedroom window cascades itself down your arms and legs, with that being the only skin not protected and covered by James' oversize shirt. You're tugged into a tight embrace, and then he's hefting himself back out of your window. "Maybe don't wait until Halloween to summon me again, alright?" He grins at you, and holds onto the window frame as he leans back to evade your halfhearted swat.
"As long as you stop scaring the shit out of my roommate, and just appear in my bedroom next time." You try to reason, but with the fucked out and content expression on his face, and the loose movement in his posture before he lets himself fall back, you know he isn't fully listening. Perking up at the mention of her, he goes to reassure you that he won't, even though he knows that he's going to end up messing with her again. He's got a tradition to uphold, and he is a creature of habit.
James makes sure to listen in for any movement coming from the front part of the shared dormitory, before entering through the back door. Turning the kitchen light off to make sure his horns and elongated nails can't be seen in his shadow, he makes his way over to their pantry to unscrew the cabinet doors until they fall off.
Once he's done with his handy work, he purposefully pushes a half empty beer bottle off of the table, and makes his way back outside as multiple pairs of footsteps run their way towards the dining area.
A bright light is turned on, and then a frustrated scream can be heard, even as he rounds his way back towards the front of the house.
"I swear to God, I think I'm losing my mind! Someone sedate me!" He hears her scream, and he laughs to himself, before Steve's adding in. "The scratch marks were right there just less than an hour ago! Where the hell could they have gone?" James readjusts the damaged wooden doors in his arms, and sends you a wolfish grin when he sees you peering down at him with an incredulous and exasperated look on your face.
"Call me." He sends up to you, and you can't help but smile to yourself as he walks away, and then disappears.
Raising your now sore arms to push your window to a close and relatch the lock, you make a pitstop and bend down to grab onto the page ripped out of the spell book, before crawling back into your messy bed. The blood drop is now gone from the piece of paper, but you can still taste the residual of it from when you kissed him on the carpet. Satiated bliss weighs you down, and its got you easily closing your eyes and almost immediately falling asleep. Tightening your hold on the paper and rearranging yourself before you do, your last thought is.
'I am definitely calling him again.'
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dxrktopaz · 16 days ago
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i’m sorry did i step on your moment?
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clownswithshoes · 18 days ago
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The mummy of the Autobots :3
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ooeygooeyghoul · 19 days ago
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Ghosts of eld take shape beneath the moonlight. Beware, weary traveler, for you are not alone in these woods.
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dykewolverine · 19 days ago
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bloody butches !?
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magalidragon · 23 days ago
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“Have you gone soft my sweet syrup pie?” | a what we do in the shadows Jonerys AU
Happy early birthday @youwerenevermine ! 🤭 And Happy early Halloween!
“Jon is my big crazy wild wolf, and we love to chase each other around the house.”
“When I was a human man, I had rosy cheeks, yet in between those cheeks, there was never a smile. And then, one night, everything changed. Dany came through the window and took my life. She opened a window to my soul and let the darkness in.”
Daenerys of Valyria and Count Jon Snow of Winterfell have been together for over 500 years. It’s a love match— Dany fell in love with him and turned him into a vampire so they could be together forever. Jon will do anything for his little bloodsucking dragon— including murdering her reincarnated former boyfriend every single time he appears just to keep her from being sad.
Through thick, thin, lots of dead bodies, a cursed witch hat, random documentarians recording their every move, and living in a falling apart house trying to make their neighbors think they’re normal (even though no one sees them in daylight and they don’t eat or drink anything), these two lovebats always have each other.
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jattawaa · 1 year ago
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the-enby-bird · 18 days ago
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the most horrifying thing to see on halloween, according to bluestreak: your parents' shameless pda
(queued 10/25/24 in order to post closer to halloween) (like my art? check out my commissions!)
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draco-after-dark · 9 months ago
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Dory verse: Halloween shenanigans
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Eldest's costume may have been lost in translation because i forgot about the word teddy bear and only read bear.
oops
Eldest belongs to @matmiraculous
Feral belongs to me
Hitman belongs to @lemony-and-zesty
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pissybitchboy · 1 month ago
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the best type of women are the ones that kinda resemble men. and the best type of men are the ones that kinda resemble women. and the best type of enbies are the ones that kinda resemble Horrid Nightmare Demon Ghouls
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neskiq · 2 months ago
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Well... Okay, maybe I put a little too much effort into this one... (It’s so obvious that my favorite holiday is Halloween.)
At first I just wanted to make chibi Zim and Dib, I don't know how I got there! ^^' But it was really fun! @galaxytoons
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aplaceforyourhearttorest · 27 days ago
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Blood Is Pretty ♱ Kirk Hammett (18+)
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Mentions/Warnings: blood fixation, blood sharing, guided masturbation, thigh riding, kirk's labret piercing
Part Two
You always try to make sure that your blood fixation and fascination isn't too obvious. It'd started when you were a kid, and back when you and Kirk were just barely old and big enough to be able to run around the neighborhood without adult supervision. Your mom had gotten you a matching set of skateboards in a value pack, and you two were out of your childhood home before your mom was even able to fully unwrap them from their protective plastic cover. You two found an uneven and jagged curb across the street, and before you two could second guess it, you were both grinning at each other and pushing yourselves forward. The abrupt and harsh contact of the uneven and rough concrete underneath your palms and the sides of your legs had your eyes burning, but the pearl and beaded droplets of red that rushed out from underneath it made your pain a soon, distant worry. You were so transfixed on the stark contrast of red on top of your scraped skin, that you almost didn't register the sharp intake and hiss of a breath coming from behind you.
Kirk was sat with his knees cradled to his chest, and his chin was wobbling in barely concealed and discomforted pain, yet he was still beautiful to you. And so were the trails of bubbled red making their way down the bottom halves of his legs. You had rushed over and placed your hands underneath his kneecaps to try and help him alleviate some of the pressure, but your scraped skin gave way to the wetness, and you combined your guys' blood together instead. Your red mixed with dirt brown and his a more vibrant red, and your mom had to remind you to wash the mess off of your arms after she ran over once she heard Kirk's cry of pain. You were seven and a half when you were stood on top of a stool and watching the dark red hue of yours and your best friend's caked blood, slowly make its way down the drain. Small, darkened flakes remained afterwards, and you slowly picked them off with your scraped fingernails in awed wonder, somehow feeling like you two were now even more closely bonded. The next day at school, you and Kirk were sat next to each other in class with identical adhesive bands atop torn skin, and you couldn't shake the urge to want to peel his back and see how his still matched yours. And how you wanted to feel closer to him, like you had the afternoon before.
Years go by, and with each that do, another scar is added onto your guys' skin. If it wasn't from skateboarding or hopping fences to try and illegally get into concerts and cinemas without paying, they were from homemade piercing guns. More Kirk than you, but by the time you guys are graduated from high school and in your early twenties, both of your ears are pierced, and so are a few other places. Your belly button being a favorite of his to tug onto, whenever you have it visible, and your favorite being his labret. The droplet of blood that slowly presented itself through the thick skin underneath his full bottom lip made you shake when you pierced him, and Kirk had looked knowingly at you as you dabbed it away. The more than ten years in between your guys' first tumble had you ending up seeing even more friends fall near or with you, and strangely, theirs didn't excite you or invite you in like his did. It took you until your late teenage years to realize that it wasn't just his blood you were attracted to, but him as well.
The thick lips that pull themselves upward when he sees you, his brown eyes that darken whenever you two touch, his roughened and calloused hands from years of playing guitar. Blood may usually interest you in a way a genre of music would, but the raw way his would display on his tan skin would make something sing inside of you. And on the day he slits his finger open on a string of his guitar during rehearsal, something inside of both of you just rewires, and then snaps.
Kirk's cursing and lifting his guitar and its strap over his head to haphazardly rest it on its stand, before rushing towards the guys' shared bathroom. And when the sound of glass shattering catches your attention over Lars still repetitively thumping against his drums, you're running after him in worry. Yellow tinged light is beaming into the enclosed space as you hurriedly make your way in, and you halt in place at the smudge of blood in the middle of the now partially ruined and broken mirror. Heat drips its way down into your middle, and it churns as Kirk paces with his hand elevated in your peripheral. His frustrated expression turns into a grimace at the look on your face, and then it breaks away to turn into something more apologetic.
"I shouldn't have done that," he starts, and then stops himself in the middle of his sentence as he sees your lidded eyes stare down at the thin line of red resting upon his inner wrist. The flank of your back makes contact with the countertop attached to the sink as you peer at him and his cut, and he doesn't stop you as you shakily lift a hand of your own and encircle your fingers around his forearm. Using the loose grasp on him as leverage, you tug him even closer, and by the time the fronts of his shoes are nearly grazing yours, the accumulated blooddrop is about to fall from his pulse point. Your pinky finger stretches out to catch it before it can, and your breath stutters in your chest as it travels down into the small space in between your hold, and finds purchase on your palm. There's a heavy pause in time, and your irises rest on his when you experimentally look up. Amusement dances in his, and the piercing underneath his lip moves with his heavy swallow. His tone is stretched out and sounding high as he asks you, "you think blood is pretty, don't ya?"
Your heart hammers in your chest, and for a moment, you can feel yourself panic. You expect him to pull back and look at you in disgust, but you slowly start to untense yourself and your fingertips pressing themselves into his skin, when you find nothing but understanding in his gaze instead. The small gap in between your palm making almost exact contact with his arm closes in, and your tongue dampens your bottom lip when you find enough courage to answer and be honest. "Just yours." Your admittance is nothing more than a slanted whisper, yet from your guys' close proximity, he can hear you just fine. Something shifts in his gaze, and your eyes widen as he reaches forward to press the source of his bleeding against your bottom lip.
The dampness of the liquified iron welcomes itself into the pores of your lips and is absorbed, and then it spreads itself against your closed mouth's shudder. Confusion at his easy acceptance overwhelms you, until you look back and realize that he's had the same interest and fascination as you, all along. The way you two would mostly only watch horror movies together and dress up as killers during Halloween, the shared excitement over monster mania magazines, and the collection of horror movie memorabilia you two would keep over at yours for safe keeping. You slowly lax your lips until they open in a small gape, and maintain eye contact as Kirk slowly slides his bleeding index finger into the warm crevice of your mouth. The taste of copper isn't too pleasant and it's shocking against your tongue, but knowing that it's his and he's giving it to you, has you closing your lips around his second knuckle.
Kirk's eyes nearly roll into the back of his head when you apply light pressure to his incision, and he bites at his bottom lip while you suction to purposefully draw the last bead of blood from out of his cut. The heady taste has saliva pooling in your mouth, and as he slowly withdrawals his digit from in between your pursed lips, a trail of tinged liquid comes out with it. The thin and almost translucent line doesn't break until his hand is inches away from your mouth, and that's when you realize that his earlier look of understanding is a pale comparison to the hunger now painted on his face.
"Please." Is coaxed out of you, from around the iron taste in your mouth, and you're surrounded by him. By the diluted taste of his blood in your mouth, by the shared and identical scars of your legs, by the piercings in your skin. He's all around you, and now, you just want him to be inside. He's using his free hand to reach over and push the wooden door to your left to a close, before using his other, still slick with his blood and your spit, to guide your face towards his. The first wet glide of your guys' lips is wet and sticky, and you feel yourself pulsate at the realization that his blood is the substance that's slick and helping you two maneuver together. The sharpened stub of his labret piercing is pressing itself into the sensitive skin of your chin as he laps at the inside of your painted mouth, and the moan he lets out at the taste of himself has you arching yourself closer to him. The reverberation of his sound quakes and tremors in your chest, and you lick at the roof of his mouth as the hand he used to close the door, slides down to rest upon the button holding your pants upright.
A cold chill breathes itself through the small gap Kirk creates as he begrudgingly separates himself from you to talk, and the pink and reddish hue smeared on his lips has your hips lifting to plant themselves up against his. "Just mine, huh?" He questions, his voice on the precipice of a husk, and the brown of his eyes is barely even visible. The bulge of his dick pressing itself against his zipper is apparent as you make contact, and you pant as the fingers he has resting against your chin holds you in place. "What else is just mine?" His fingertips trail down the tense curve of your neck and press down along your stammering pulse, and then they rest on your right collarbone. "Tell me."
"Everything is yours." You expose, and you gasp as he abandons the button of your jeans to press you into the hard counter, before stepping back to turn you around. The small, bare sliver of your middle making contact with the cold marble has goosebumps waking on your skin, and they multiply when he rests his front upon your back. You can only make out your guys' wanton expressions over the punched in and fractured glass, and you can feel your flush spread even though you can't see it. His hands come down to rest upon your waist, and then slide themselves forward to unfasten the button of your jeans. Blown out and lust laden irises stare at you through the mirror and hold you in place, and your kissed red and blood smeared lips open in a startled moan as he presses his flattened palm against your clothed sex.
"You think I hadn't noticed when you kept staring at me as we watched all those horror movies, and the way you kept shifting when those girls would be kissed and covered in blood?" He croons, the tone in his voice redundant as his left hand carefully tugs your pants down to your knees. His still spit slick lips brush themselves against your earlobe, and your knees buckle when he bends his knuckle to press it right into your pulsing and wet middle. "Teach me how you touch yourself, when you go home afterwards and think about me."
You shakily lift your right hand from the hard surface in front of you and slide it down your front, until your fingertips run along the beginning of his, and then you intertwine. Kirk presses the back of his hand into your palm in silent reassurance, before guiding your joined hands under the cotton of your underwear, and mounts his lips against your clavicle as you cry out loud. The juxtaposition of your fingers soft pads just barely missing your clit and his meeting it straight on with the harsh skin of a callous has your hips raising, and your eyes stinging with the onslaught of desperate tears. "I didn't ask you to hump me, I asked you to show me." His words are direct and harsh, but his voice is amused, and slightly muffled as he teasingly peeks his tongue out from between his teeth. His appendage is lapping over a love bite when you carve and curve your fingers in just the right way to have his index and middle fingers press into your bundle of nerves, and you tremble as you twist your wrist in direct, and fast circles.
You're grateful for the background noise of the guys still absentmindedly and cluelessly rehearsing from less than twenty feet away, as your whines and mewls raise in volume and register. You can feel Kirk slowly grind himself against the swell of your ass, and he groans as your slick gives way to his fast motioning fingers, and as you press yourself back into his groin. The heat permeating into your skin from his still clothed dick makes your mouth water, and your eyes slam to a close as you feel the familiar lick of heat curl itself around your middle and beckon you in. Only this time, the man you always picture while you touching yourself, is pressing his fingers up right against you, and sucking bruises into your skin.
A light tsk is being breathed into the electrified air in the small bathroom, and then Kirk's forcing your hand off of his. Your heart plummets in your chest, and your eyes snap back open at the denial of your orgasm, before your lips mold into the familiar syllable of his first name. A taunting grin is raising his swollen lips, and then his hands are reaching down to spread your legs apart. A rough and clothed knee is pressing itself against you, and then calloused palms are guiding you up and down his jean clad thigh. "If you can't even keep your eyes open long enough to teach me, then the least I can do is help you use me," he drawls, and tugs your sopping underwear to the side. The fabric of your pants pool around your ankles, before sliding down to the floor as he lifts your feet from the ground. You're positioned onto his lifted thigh, and you can only grip and press your unsteady fingertips into the counter in front of you, as he guides you to ride and make a mess on his thigh. "You've been wanting this for so long, and you can't even teach me right."
The degradation would usually have you feeling offended. But right now, as his blood is still apparent on your tongue, as your pussy is roughly colliding with the dampening fabric of his jeans, as his teeth have made purple and red marks into your skin, and as his assuring and strong hands guide you back in forth, it only brings you closer to your release. You stare up at the blood smear just a few inches away from your face and ingrained in the reflector, and make the split decision to lean forward in his grip to run your tongue over it. It's dried into the fractured glass and nothing is added onto your appendage, but the visualization of you being hungry enough for more of him on your tongue has him cursing aloud behind you, and pressing the top of his knee into your sex.
You moan loudly and replant your hands in front of you as steady as you can, before pressing your weight into your forearms and circling your hips to bump and grind yourself against his limb. "That's right, sweetheart. Use me just like you need to, just like that." He's praising, and your vision whites out as your orgasm barrels into you. Oversensitivity and overstimulation makes you quake in his hold as he continues to beckon you back and forth, and he doesn't stop until you rest a hand against his and shake your head no. You're placed back onto your unsteady feet and carefully turned back around, before being lifted up onto the other side of the countertop. The coldness of the unused and glass free surface seeps into your bare backside, but you're unable to care as your head is tilted upwards and you're brought into a chaste and long lasting kiss.
Roughly swallowing around the last lingering taste of iron and panting into the welcoming heat of his mouth, you're only able to partially catch your breath, until he's leaning back with a carnivorous grin etched on his lips, and a hand is lightly tapping itself on the middle of the outside of your thigh. They shake in the aftermath of your orgasm, your chest still heaves, your eyesight is unclear, and your throat is sore and dry, but you're the fullest you've ever been. Yet, hunger reignites in you as he lowers himself in front of you to pick up your pants and realigns them with your ankles, and as he plants and sucks wet kisses and temporary marks on the expanse of your bare legs as he makes his way back up.
"I need you to head upstairs and get yourself ready," he instructs you once he is, and your pussy walls quiver emptily as you squeeze your thighs close and shut. Your head brushes against the unbroken side of the mirror as he follows you back, and your chest heaves as it sucks in your guys' shared breath. "I'm going to finish up here, and when I come upstairs, I'm going to tear you apart. Until you're crying and coming apart all over me, against me, and while I'm inside of you. That sound okay with you?" He's laughing as you needily and quickly nod, and the look he pins you with is filled with satisfactory want and anticipation. You watch unblinkingly as he licks at the fingers he had rubbing against you earlier until they're clean, and as he temporarily closes his eyes at the taste of you. When they reopen, his eyes are just as yours were when you were turned to look and face the mirror. Hungry, insatiable, soon to be fulfilled, and understood.
He's leaning back in a way that proves he doesn't want to be away from you, and then he's fully disconnecting his bottom half from yours with a heated promise, his hands trailing down your quivering sides as he takes a step back. "I'll see you upstairs. Go and get yourself nice and ready for me, baby."
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