#and then i had the thought that vampires would be like *unf* and it made me laugh

[bretonalchemist]

seducing vampires by slowly lifting my skirt up, revealing my varicosed veins

[undeadunalive]

"Indeed, the very same." Jonathan effortlessly replied with a single nod of his head, a surprising amount of warmth lifting his features despite the stark coldness of his skin or the lack of colour that refused to flood his cheeks. For every little thing that might scream 'vampire', to those who could never imagine that existed, he had plenty of excuses to get him by. His pale skin and inability to step into direct sunlight was simply a very rare and severe allergy to the sun, keeping him from stepping into its warm embrace without erupting into an unyielding rash of blisters and burns. It wasn't a complete lie, though the severity was a little more brutal, his skin would begin to burn, not only from the outside in, on the inside, he'd begin to boil as well. The terrifying thing was it wouldn't even kill him, it would burn and boil him right down to the bone and all he'd need is for the sun to set or to hide behind a cloud and he'd begin to heal all over again. Not that the whole ordeal wouldn't be completely and utterly agonising. But he didn't have to mention that part.

His cold skin was simply played off as poor blood circulation and, again, a lack of sunlight. While his inability to eat around people was merely put down to having specific dietary requirements, which also wasn't a complete fib, even if he left out the fact that he couldn't consume anything that wasn't blood without it coming back up after being swiftly rejected by his body. His figure did seem to aid with such an excuse, standing at a striking height despite his very lean and malnourished build making it clear that there was perhaps something amiss when it came to his eating habits. Yet the reality was just as sobering, he'd spent three years on the frontline in France during WWI, surviving on rations that had quickly whittled down, giving away what he had to his patients rather than taking it for himself. By the time he'd returned to London, he'd been a shadow of the man who had left years before, his cheeks skinny with bony angles, dark bags beneath his eyes, giving away a lack of sleep, lack of eating, scars on his face, a broken nose, his entire body screaming for rest and nourishment. What had he found when he came home? His own death.

Now, every time he looked in the mirror, it was that same man who had returned from war who looked back at him, eternally tired, unfed and marked with the same scars that would never leave him, never let him forget. They were both a curse and a gift.

To see his cousin with a face so like his own, slender but not starving, sun-dusted skin, grey hairs creeping into ebony locks, he almost envied it, wondering if that's how he might have looked if he hadn't been transformed mere streets away from his childhood home. He wanted James to see his life through, to live it, to reach an old age, retire, and be content in his last days. And what better than to do so with someone they cared for so deeply by their side? They could live together, grow old together, something that Jonathan never could.

"Please, call me Jonathan." The physician politely insisted, keeping his usual title for more formal situations, or simply those who he didn't particularly like. "I was made aware that you hail from America, but no, he neglected to mention which state." Though the accent did give him away a little, not specifically being from Detroit, but the American accent wasn't easy to miss. "I must say, I've never had the opportunity to visit Detroit. Most of my visits to the States are situated in New York. Myself and... prior family members, have held a number of lectures there from time to time." Meaning over the last century they'd all been him, looking exactly the same portraying another descendent. "Though I did travel briefly some time ago. Alas, I imagine much has changed since then." Particularly since the president had been Woodrow Wilson all the way back then.

The thought was almost enough to make him frown a little, suddenly reminded of just how old he was in comparison to the fresh-faced mortal in front of him. Not that it had escaped him that the man seemed -- - tense. Jonathan didn't need to it see, he could feel it, his ungodly senses made secrets impossible to keep, whether just by tasting it in the air around them or by dragging the truth out of them by force. Nothing stayed secret for long. Did he know what he was? He didn't seem quite as shielded as James had been on their first meeting, but he wasn't exactly relaxed either. He was -- - apprehensive? Wary? "The gangs and... thuggery of equal measure, in this city are less of a concern, young man. It's... all else that skulks in the shadows that one should be mindful of." His own kind would be in that category, even he had to be careful seeing as his chosen pacifism wasn't welcomed by most of his fellow Ekons. Especially in London after he'd stood up to the Ascalon Club, the city's 'elite' club of British male vampires. Needless to say, his refusal to fall into line with their outdated ideals hadn't earned him any social favours in the streets. Not that he regretted it though. It was probably best they kept hiding themselves away like the pompous cowards that they truly were. "Take care, Sir, that's all I ask. These streets are not nearly as peaceful as they may seem. If you must wander alone, I would strongly advise well-lit areas that are highly populated. All else can be... treacherous, to say the least."

Perhaps it was the late hour or the lack of sleep getting to him, for as unmistakably proper as this rather tall gentleman was, Connor couldn't help the wariness that he held towards him. There was just something disconcerting, beneath the effortless poise & polite warmth, that kept the detective’s hackles up. He showed none of it, his own passive charm on display. The very same practiced demeanor that had served him well in his line of work, as it put others at ease & made the young man appear harmless. However it may have seemed, by no means did Connor lower his guard, even as he released a slow breath which carried with it all of the previous tension built up in his body from his initial startle, & a calm but faint smile tugged at his features. “—So you’re the cousin he’s been in contact with.” The priest had informed him at one point or another that he was communicating with a relative in London, sending him candid photos from their travels as though this lengthy, work related venture were a vacation.

To the detective, it was, though that could be put up to a matter of opinion. When one considered just how much the young man strived to overwork himself on a regular basis, any sort of trip was a vacation, even if he had been spending most of it researching for his lover’s assignments. Connor had learned more about the supernatural in the last few months than he had ever known for the whole of his twenty-six years of life. Which in that instance was what convinced him that he was overthinking things when it came to this sudden introduction to one of James’ relations. Supernatural entities had been on his mind day & night, the priest filling his head with so much paranormal information, warning him against all sorts of otherworldly evils which allegedly existed. The detective figured that he was just being paranoid, yet he continued to remain vigilant, even as he slowly closed that gap between himself & the man whom resembled his lover to a striking degree.

“Please, call me Connor. There’s no need to be formal with me, especially if you’re family.” That offered hand was taken into a firm hold to shake, pleasant expression warmed by the faint widening of his smile. If ever there had been a man who made Connor of all people feel short, it was this one. James was already a couple inches taller than himself, which was especially appreciated when the older man kissed him, but in order to look the doctor in the eye, the detective had to crane his slender neck just a bit. Not a very common experience. “It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Reid.” A small nod in greetings as Connors hand fell to his side. The other held onto his book, bringing it to tuck against his chest as he took a step back. An illusion of polite distance, though he was still wary. Certainly not the type to be easily caught off guard, even when fatigued.

“Though I’m guessing that James neglected to mention that I’m from Detroit.” The quip held a teasing air to it. A tactful response, as the detective was the type of person to choose his words with care & was mindful of the impression he made towards others. Every interaction calculated towards an advantage, for himself or others. Right now, he wanted to be on his very best behavior so as not to embarrass James in any way. As far as Connor knew, the priest didn’t have much in the way of family, so every relationship mattered. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help the mildly sardonic bemusement stirred by the doctor’s vocalized concerns. He suspected that the dauntless protectiveness that he admired of James was something of a common family trait. He chuckled lightly at the thought.

“I’m not worried about walking alone at night. London is a lot safer than certain districts in my city.” Far less gang activity & drug running, though the detective was aware of the spikes in crimes over the years throughout London. At least it was far more difficult to obtain firearms in the UK, but that didn’t make it perfectly safe. Humanity has a way of surprising even the most seasoned of law enforcement. In that regard, he couldn’t necessarily fault this cordial relation. “But, the concern is appreciated,” he assured, not wanting to come off as ungrateful. Though he was more than capable of taking care of himself, Connor didn’t mind being looked after.

[zickmonkey]

Undead, Unfed: Chapter One- Knock Knock | Lady Dimitrescu X Fem OC

Read on Ao3

My mother had always told me I'd be a pianist when I was older. She'd take one look at my fingers and remark that they were musician's fingers, ones I'd gotten from her, and her mother before that.

She was certain that I would grow into a musical prodigy. That I would play fur elise the very first time I sat down at a piano.

She would apologize that she hadn't made enough money to afford one now, to play herself, and teach me now.

She was also certain that if it wasn't music that paid rent it would be something far away from the village she'd moved to in the night.

Taking her three year old son and fleeing from her husband. Leaving her life as a housewife.

She would apologize for that too.

For moving us to a village that was rooted in the past, and more alarmingly, was home to a countess that was rumored to drink blood along with her three carnivorous daughters. A village that had an infestation problem not of lice, or rats, but lycans.

In some ways my mother could be considered lucky.

She died not at the hands of a Lycan, she served not as breakfast for a family of vampire-like monsters. She fell victim to an illness that grabbed at her organs like it was a rodeo and it wasn't going to let go of the bull, no matter how hard it fought.

However lucky she may have been, fortune telling certainly wasn't a trait of hers.

I wouldn't be playing the piano, and I wouldn't be escaping the village.

She was good and buried, which meant it was us alone now, me and my brother.

"You can't be serious!" Astin looked like he was considering throwing the knife in his hand while he yelled at me- a stupid weapon, if a lycan had approached the only thing that would've happened was he'd get killed and I'd get infected- assuming only that I found enough time to run and I wasn't just as ill-fated.

"I am. It's just us now. I need to do something. We can't afford this place, even with it's dirt cheap rent. I am nothing to you but a nuisance. So I am going to go beg for a job, and if I do not get it I will make sure five less people are starving."

My brother looked ready to object again, before letting his anger drop, just momentarily enough to look confused. To start counting in his head.

"Five?"

"Five. Lady Dimitrescu, her three daughters, and you, Astin. You can feed yourself, not both of us."

"I can't believe you're so okay with just going to your death. I thought you were a fighter, 'Roe."

I didn't let what he said hurt me- it came from a place of pain. I knew that, if only because half the things I stopped myself from saying came from the same place.

"I am fighting. I'm fighting to keep you alive, and from being a dumb fucking idiot. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to pack a bag."

He placed the knife on the counter, the cabinet above it with one door missing and the other swinging off a hinge, threatening to fall and leave him with a concussion.

He didn't look like my brother. I assumed, in fact, that he took after our father.

His hair was a muddy red, his eyes a deep brown. He looked like autumn personified.

No one would give him pitying glances, when my fate was undetermined in the castle. No one would know that he had lost anyone at all.

Even when we grew up here together.

"Monroe!" He stomped his foot, as though he were a child. As though it would make me stop and turn around. Make me listen to him. "You can't even wait for the dirt on mom's grave to settle?!"

"If I do we'll be half starved!"

I went to our room- knowing that I couldn't keep him out when not only did we share it but the door had rotted almost completely away.

I'd leave in the morning, preferably when Astin was fast asleep.

And if I was lucky, I'd be cleaning by nightfall.

~

It turned out it was easy to fall asleep when your usual distraction was giving you the cold shoulder.

And it was clear my brother felt the same way, when I slipped out from the room to the sounds of creaking floorboards and the most obnoxious snoring I'd had to learn how to sleep through.

I could still hear him snoring when I left the house entirely, my feet crunching on random stones and pebbles on the dirt path.

It was cold, this morning.

I could only hope it would be warm in castle Dimitrescu.

I wasn't dumb enough to really believe that I'd be offered a position- even one as lowly as a maid.

But I was confident I'd be let inside. Probably just to be tied up and bled in the basement like a pig.

I didn't think it was too much to hope that at least in those final moments the chill from my bones would be gone.

The castle was far from the village, my feet starting to ache from the uneven trail.

And I was starting to shiver.

I wished I'd been smart enough to bring a jacket. To wear one now.

I'd packed a bag the night before, like I'd said. But I didn't bring it, I'd never intended to.

It was to make a point to Astin. And if he opened it there'd be a note on the top, a long sappy goodbye that I used too many compliments in so he could remember me fondly.

Instead of with resentment.

For a 33 year old he lacked a sense of self preservation.

Though it could be said it ran in the family, seeing as I was the one looking straight at the gates of castle Dimitrescu.

I expected them to be locked.

Or for the gates to open in Addams family fashion- all on their own just as I passed.

My mother loved the Addams family- why my brother got the name Astin, after the lead actor. And probably why she had decided to move to such a creepy little village.

I'd never seen it. But I was thinking of her descriptions when the gate opened at my touch, and everything suddenly felt like a hiding place.

Would a butler answer the door with a loud groan, take my hat, and if I refused entry carry me inside?

The answer to that I could guess at all ready.

And it was that I probably wouldn't even make it to the door.

The gate was unlocked for a reason. 'Unwanted' visitors weren't so unwanted.

Anyone who trespassed was a free meal. They couldn't be blamed for keeping their property safe.

[glimmerglanger]

ok but vampire Obi-Wan biting Anakin and having to get on his tippy toes and Anakin gets so into it he just picks him up by the thighs and slams him into the nearest wall

*FANS SELF HELPLESSLY* UNF, ANON, THAT’S AN AMAZING IMAGE, I’M hot under my collar jfdkalfjda

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mm,” Obi-Wan murmured, when Anakin wrapped an arm around him from behind, nuzzling into the soft hair behind his ear. Obi-Wan did not startle at his touch, for all that Anakin had only just arrived on the Negotiator, fresh off of a miserable mission to some nowhere world. “Hello, there,” he said, grown comfortable with being in Anakin’s arms.

“Hello to you.” Anakin closed his eyes for a moment, breathing him in, feeling, abruptly, as though he’d come home. “Did you miss me?”

Obi-Wan made a soft, amused sound, putting down the pad he’d been working on and turning in Anakin’s grip. “Of course,” he said, mouth curving up, and Anakin could not help but bend enough to steal a kiss and then another.

“Everything went well?” Obi-Wan asked, a moment later, easing back just enough to get a look at Anakin’s expression. Anakin nodded, waving a hand dismissively. He had no real desire to dig into the miserable slog of the mission. Not when he could reach up and pull at the neckline of his tunics.

Obi-Wan flashed him a grin, looking soft and amused when he asked, “Trying to tell me something, Anakin?”

Anakin shrugged, even as want swirled up in his stomach. “Thought you might be hungry,” he said, flashing a smile of his own, and Obi-Wan wetted his bottom lip. He couldn’t drink from Anakin each time he grew hungry. It would have been dangerous for Anakin’s health. The wait between - to ensure Anakin was fully recovered - always left Anakin watching the calendar, keeping track of when he’d next pull Obi-Wan closer.

“You were cleared by medical?” Obi-Wan asked, swaying forward again, one hand on Anakin’s shoulder to brace.

“I’m fit as a bantha,” Anakin said, flattening his palm over Obi-Wan’s back to draw him closer, tilting his chin up, and Obi-Wan hummed, pushing up onto his toes to make up for their disparate heights and--

And he’d never quite done that before, dragging a kiss against Anakin’s throat and leaning into him, stretching up to reach, teeth just brushing against skin, like he wanted it as much as Anakin, like he wasn’t going to protest that Anakin needed to sit down first this time.

Anakin groaned in the back of his throat, itching with all his delayed wants, intent on making things easier on Obi-Wan. He wasn’t thinking when he dipped his knees just a little, hands sliding down Obi-Wan’s sides, gripping at his legs and lifting him, easily.

Obi-Wan made a surprised little sound, arms flung around Anakin’s shoulders as he asked, “What are you--oh!”

The wall was the closest convenient surface and oh, it felt good to press Obi-Wan against it, his thighs on either side of Anakin’s hips as Anakin asked, “Better?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan hummed, shifting against him, and in this position Anakin could feel how hard he was, his cock trapped between them, all of their kriffing robes in the way.

“Next time,” Anakin panted, gasping as Obi-Wan nibbled at his throat, pointed, sharp teeth dragging over skin, “I’m getting you out of your clothes first.”

Obi-Wan snorted a laugh, breath puffing over sensitive skin. “I’ve told you before,” he said, “there’s to be no thrusting of any kind while my teeth are in you.”

Anakin ground against him, a helpless thrust of his hips. He still wasn’t sure he agreed with that rule all the way. The idea of tangling together even closer while Obi-Wan bit him was... deeply satisfying to something inside his chest. But the thought made Obi-Wan uncomfortable and worried, certain he’d do damage by accident, so he’d stopped asking about it. He ground out, “I could wait until you were done.”

“Oh, well,” Obi-Wan said, breathily, “you can do that this time,” and sank his teeth in.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.23

Keith had been had. Lance had slipped out of talking to him by making him flustered, then they’d put a totally dumb movie on... and the stupid night had slipped away before he knew what was happening. Lance was infuriatingly relaxed. He’d laughed at the big pieces of garlic on the pizza, complimented him for not being a bad first timer in a weird way that made Keith’s heart go weird, then started making fun of the horror comedy they were watching. There was some name for the genre that Lance had used, it wasn’t comor, or hormedy, but it was something as equally stupid sounding. After half a dozen drinks it’d sounded good enough to laugh at. Now Keith was laying in bed, hiding himself away from Lance. He’d been aiming to get Lance’s guard down, not his own... What even was last night? And what the heck was Lance doing making so much noise too early in the morning? How was he supposed to ignore his existence when Lance sounded like he was demolishing the house? What happened to getting up and sneaking into his office for his morning meal? And why was keith trying to do the brain without the coffee? He couldn’t brain without the coffee.

Shuffling into the kitchen, Keith grimaced at the noise. Hunk was talking a million miles an hour as he blended something, Pidge sitting at the kitchen table with her knees up and laptop in front of her

“Hey, man! I’m making breakfast smoothies! Do you want one?!”

Yelling over the blender, Hunk’s stupid face was smiling too much... that was mean. Hunk was alright, but too much smile in the morning was weird

“Coffee...”

Lance was already working the coffee machine, Keith frowning as he noticed the way Lance’s hands were shaking

“Way ahead of you. Sit down and I’ll bring a cup over. Don’t disturb the gremlin, she’s extra cranky this morning”

Keith was perfectly fine avoiding a cranky Pidge, carefully taking Lance’s usual seat, lest he bump the table and set the gremlin off

“Get fucked”

Keith raised an eyebrow, not sure who the comment was directed at

“Fucking piece of shit!”

The laptop? It had to be directed at the laptop... right? Shuffling over to him, Keith eyed Lance. He looked like he should still be in bed, most of the coffee in Keith’s cup was now pooling on the saucer under it

“Sorry... here we go”

As Lance set the coffee down, he winced at the minute amount of sound it made. Catching Lance by the wrist, the vampire cringed, Keith staring up at his unwell face

“Lance? Have you fed this morning?”

“Couldn’t... Company”

An unfed vampire wasn’t safe... Not that he was worried about how ill Lance looked... or felt strangely concerned about his wellbeing. That was the lack of coffee talking

“Go feed, I’ll cover you”

“But...”

“Just go already. You’re disturbing my coffee”

Lance stumbled over his own feet as he shuffled off. Keith staring at his half empty coffee cup sadly. What a waste of coffee... Fuck being socially polite. Lifting the cup off the unmatching saucer, something very unLance, further proving how bad he must feel because everything always had to match, Keith poured the other half his coffee back into his cup as Hunk cut the blender. The lack of sound was welcoming. Grinning, Hunk went to turn to Lance

“Here... huh... where’d he go?”

Pidge grunted, Keith trying to get the coffee in the cup when it insisted on running down the side and under the saucer

“Keith?”

“Just a... fuck”

Fuck all coffee wound up in his mug, Pidge snickered as Keith frowned deeply

“Keith?”

“He had to check his work phone”

“Oh, maybe I should take this down to his office... it’s best if he drinks its right away”

“No! No, ugh. We had a late night...”

That wasn’t how Keith wanted it to sound. Pidge closed her laptop, but her and Hunk giving him a funny look

“What?”

“You two had a late night, hmm?”

“Not like that”

“Not like, what?”

Keith groaned. He should have kept his mouth shut

“Shut up”

Pidge poked her tongue at him. All Keith wanted was his coffee. Pouring out the strangely green smoothly, Hunk smiled at him

“Man, if there’s something going on between you and Lance...”

“No”

Cackling, Pidge wasn’t having it

“Me thinks he denies too fast”

“Me thinks I need my coffee”

Keith died a little on the inside. Who the hell was he? He didn’t talk like that

“Keith and Lance...”

“Sitting in a tree?”

Hunk didn’t sound sure about continuing Pidge’s teasing

“Look, it’s not like that. He’s a friend. I’m just worried about him...”

Oh. Fuck.

Pidge grinned at him so widely that she surely thought she was right with her line of teasing. Hunk, on the other hand, lost his smile

“Something’s wrong with him, isn’t it? He said it was Miriam. Was he having tests? Is that why he wasn’t responding? He’s been acting really weird for the last few weeks”

“He’s acting weird because he’s been hiding his boyfriend”

“Pidge, you know what I’m talking about. He like never leaves without letting us know”

Raising the cup of coffee to his lips, Keith was so close...

“Keith, what’s going on with Lance?”

Why did people have to think he could human before his coffee? It was cruel and inhumane to bully him like this. Lowering his cup slightly, Keith sighed

“Lance is fine. We’re not dating. My stupid brother took off and thinks being here will be good for me. Shiro has like no chill, as you should know Pidge. Miriam had a really bad fall, broken hip and messed up her face. He was organising things in Platt”

It was on the tip of Keith’s tongue to mention that Luis had been there, but he didn’t know what Lance had told his two best friends in relation to his family, outside of Miriam being his grandmother.

“And he didn’t have another doctor’s appointment?”

By “doctor’s appointment” Keith assumed that was Lance speak for a visit to Coran. The previous days talk with Coran felt like it’d happened weeks ago

“Nah. I mean, I wouldn’t know. He does his own thing”

“He always has. We totally tried to have him move in with us when we were in Platt, but he wasn’t having it. He’s always been a bit odd”

“And here I thought you guys were best friends?”

“We are. He’s our odd best friend. And you’re our new odder best friend. We totally decided that in group chat”

Keith didn’t know what to make of that

“You talk about me?”

“Only to tease Lance. You do know you’re like the first person he has ever like warmed up to like this. That’s why we were sure you two were secretly dating”

“Oh, we totally are. Keith’s dick game is totally on point”

With his coffee cup heading back towards his lips, Keith was glad he didn’t have a mouthful or it’d have been sprayed across the table at Lance’s casual remark

“Lance!”

“What? You’re a total dick and you know it”

The bastard vampire shot him finger guns as Keith’s heart decided it needed to keep racing from Lance’s comment. Pidge cackled with laughter

“Oh, man. If I wasn’t convinced before, I am now. You should have seen the look on your face!”

Being a total arsehole, Lance placed his hand on Keith’s shoulder

“Did you tell them all about us, baby cakes?”

Keith growled. Why the fuck had ever been worried about this dick?

“Keep touching me and I’ll break your hand”

“Look at them, Hunk! Okay. So you’re like weird room mates...”

“Yep. For now. At least until I paint the house”

“Have you thought of a colour scheme yet?”

“I was thinking of going full ‘70’s. Shag pike carpet, lots of mismatched prints...”

Why was Lance’s hand still on his shoulder? And why was Keith now hyper focused on the fact Lance was touching him? He didn’t like it. He didn’t like Lance. He didn’t like the way he felt all weird since coming to the house... Something was definitely wrong with his heart, it kept racing for no good reason

“You do that and you’re dead to me”

“If I’d known that, I would have done it sooner”

“That enough you two. Here, I made you a smoothie. It’s chocked full of the good stuff”

Lance finally removed his hand from Keith’s shoulder. The idiot walking into the dining chair in front of him. Maybe Lance had been using him for support, and there was no greater meaning to it? Shiro did say he had the tendency to over think things...

“God, you’re worse than me. Sit down before you break your whole house”

Lance took a seat next to Pidge

“Better?”

“Much”

“You’re not as cranky”

“And you don’t look as dead”

Pidge wasn’t seeing Lance the way Keith was. Lance had a little more colour in his face, but there was pain in the corner of his eyes

“Damn, I was hoping to be the best looking dead guy in town. I take it you got their number plate?”

“I got more than their number plate. I got their home address and two dozen eggs that’d look great splattered across their windows”

“Pidgeon, that’s not my field of expertise”

“Then they shouldn’t have sideswiped my car”

So that was what Pidge had been so cranky... her anger hadn’t been directed at him

“No, but violence only leads to more violence”

“That’s why I’m egging their house and not punching them in the face. Hunk, help me out here”

Hunk placed the glass of smoothie in front of Lance who wrinkled his nose at it

“I’m kind of with Lance here. Besides, I already helped you out, dad’s organising the repairs as we speak”

“Merp”

“Merp to you too. Hunk, do I wanna know what’s in this?”

“Nope. Drink it all fast”

“I hate it when you say that”

As Lance drank his smoothie, Keith settled back in his chair, finally able to enjoy his first, half empty, cold, sad looking coffee.

*

Lance was not having a fun day. He’d had a very, very, very vivid dream. A very, very, very vivid dream about bending a very, very, very emo vampire hunter over his kitchen table... He’d woken up feeling strange, waking up secondary to the lower parts of his anatomy that’d apparently had a pretty good time without his permission. Washing his underwear had been a lesson in humiliation, the only consolation being he had his own private bathroom. His dream had been way too vivid, like waaaaaay to vivid to the point he swore he could feel Keith on his skin... and after showering, he just felt deflated. Like he was running on a third of his strength. Weak and shaky, worse than he had the day before. He’d barely been out the shower five minutes before Hunk was calling to say they were on their way, and Pidge was pissed.

Trying to choose something to wear had been a struggle, by the time he’d done that, he could hear Hunk’s car coming, his stupid senses deciding he needed to hyper aware. He hadn’t had time to feed, nor to prewarn Keith, or get his shit together because how he was supposed to face Keith. He felt as if he’d violated the man by dreaming about him... Especially when he kind of wanted to reverse the positions... He was a goddamn pervert... Keith wasn’t... they hadn’t... He hadn’t been horrible company the night before. He’d tried to press him for information, but couldn’t a guy just relax and eat some bad pizza in peace? Not that the pizza had been bad... Keith didn’t know better when it came to a pizza drowning in toppings.

When Hunk started the blender Lance had felt as if his brain was in their with the other half dozen ingredients. Pidge was murderous, someone having sideswiped her car during the early hours of the morning. She’d spent the morning reviewing the security feed from the front of her house... Lance not quite able to find the right time to slip out the kitchen and drain a blood bag like his body was telling him he needed to do. He hadn’t thought Keith would see how poorly he felt, his hands were shaking as he tried to banish the thoughts of his unwanted dream. He felt like he should be apologising repeatedly and begging not to be decapitated for betray him like this.

Then Keith had gone and been even nicer, sending to feed while he babysat Pidge and Hunk. Lance had nearly torn the blood bag in half in his rush to feed. Coran had said “changes”, not damn dreams like he was a teenager again. They’d had a bonding moment watching TV. Keith was pretty funny when he wasn’t trying to murder him, or being stupider than words could describe. His taste in movies really was as bad a Pidge’s, the pair would be an unstoppable remote hogging pair if they teamed up. Keith just... He’d opened up somewhat, awkward with Pidge and Hunk, but not as awkward as he’d been. He talked. He covered for Lance over what had happened in Platt. He’d covered for him a lot, and Lance didn’t know why he was going that little bit extra to keep Hunk and Pidge from worrying.

“Dude, I’m surprised your kitchen’s this messy. Normally you’re a clean freak in here”

As Lance recovered from the horrible green sludge he’d choked down for Hunk’s benefit, he was almost envious that Pidge had missed out. He’d take a dirty kitchen over that smoothie any day of the year

“Keith made pizzas last night. We couldn’t be bothered cleaning up after”

“Keith, man. Another cooking aficionado?”

“No”

Keith’s answer was blunt. The fact he’d pulled himself together after Lance’s little temper tantrum was to be applauded. The wood fire stove came with the house, but rarely got used for anything other than pizzas. The thing was a temperamental old bitch on the best of days, but at least she was always there when there was no power or gas. Poor Hunk didn’t know how to deal with Keith

“Not from scratch, but it was pretty good”

“Are you two sure you’re not dating?”

Lance really wished Pidge would give the topic a rest. He’d had a tough enough morning as it was

“Pidgeon, I wouldn’t hold out on you if we were. I know how much you love those tiny little details...”

Pidge covered her ears with her hands

“I don’t want to know”

“Then give it a break already. Hunk, what are you Pidge up to for the rest of the day?”

“Not much, man. This wasn’t even planned...“

Planning would have been nice. Then he could have planned to hide until he died. He wouldn’t have had to face Keith. What kind of idiot put their hand on a caffeine deprived hunter and cracked lame jokes? Oh, that was right, it was him. He was the idiot. He wasn’t even sure why he had. He’d felt a little woozy as the blood rushed through his system, but once his hand was on Keith, he’d had a hard time letting go.

“... I’ll probably help my dad at the garage today. What about you, Pidge?”

“Seeing I’m not allowed to egg houses even when they house arseholes, I’ll probably set up a board and see what I can figure out. It’s been ages since we went on a proper hunt”

Pidge had the remnants of various boards tucked away in the attic of her family home. They were essentially murder boards for supernatural things. Photos, timelines, interesting articles. It was something she didn’t really talk about around outsiders, and something the three of them had taken to doing together. Lance felt a flare of jealousy over the fact Keith was being made privy to secret group information. Hunk didn’t seem to care

“Ooooh. Why didn’t you tell me you started a new board?”

“It’s an old one. Garrison, again. I mean, like, you’d think they would have fixed the arrangements of the wars. We all call it the Third World War, and sure there was a huge technology jump, but it was aaaaaaaages before the First World War”

It was and it wasn’t. That was the weird thing. Everyone knew it happened, yet when you tried to focus really hard on it, things became a bit muddle. Lance couldn’t quite put his finger on it either. It was kind of like some mass imagination thing had happened, but there was proof of it happening even if they couldn’t say exactly when. Personally Lance wouldn’t have listed it as a world war, and more an allies skirmish between two sides who both thought they were right and leader who had peanuts for brains... or maybe one of those monkeys with the cymbals that smashed them together every time they got remotely close to a good idea

“The good old Garrison board. How we loved you so. You revisiting the hospital?”

“No, I was thinking of re-examining the building usage lists. I want to see if we can set up again for another night in another building. Lance is probably going to be busy with Miriam, so I’m keeping it local for now. There’s this total members only club in Platt, that I have been dying to see. They reckon it’s run by werewolves who were born werewolves and that all the staff are werewolves that drank from water in their footprints”

Werewolves. Lance’s mood shifted again. He was turning into a breeder, with two new werewolf roommates coming. Werewolves could be quite lusty, and his arse was definitely saved for someone else. Someone with a big dumb black mullet... Lance chocked on air as he quickly cut that train of thinking off. Keith was basically a working condom advertisement. Emotional issues that’d never been treated, far too good looking to be human, cranky 24/7, plus he wasn’t even domesticated. He was never going to be interested in him and the sooner his brain got it together, the better it’s be for him.

“How about Pidge and I go pick the board up, then we all can work on it together?”

Noooooooooooo. Lance loved Hunk with the power of a billion suns, but noooooo. He didn’t want to be trapped on the couch next to Keith. He still needed time to settle his instincts, and to push down that damn dream... mostly the dream. Making the mistake of closing his eyes, the dream popped back into the forefront of his mind. Back’s had never really been sexy, but Keith’s broad shoulders and muscular form as he gripped the table... the sounds he made as Lance rode him hard into the table... The warmth... Keith was so fucking warm and loud... Whining, Lance clamped a hand over his mouth as his eyes shot open

“Dude?”

“I think I’m going to be sick”

He was... Hunk’s smoothie had to come out one way or the other. Bolting from the kitchen, he heard Keith covering him again. Why couldn’t keith go back to being a dick! Things were so much easier then, and now he was all friendly with his friends

“We kind of got drunk last night. He’s probably hung over... I’ll check on him. Why don’t you guys come back this afternoon and we’ll work on your board then?”

“Damn, man. I’ve never seen him hung over before...”

“Are you sure it’s just a hangover?”

“He’ll be fine. I need more coffee”

[sniffle-elf]

“I’m cold. Come closer.” - for Gabriel and John, if you can? :3

OKAY SO. As I mentioned, this grew into something completely unexpected, and I’m sorry if it’s not your jams. Feel free to shoot me another request if you totally hate it. 

Also, it should be noted that this takes place in a fantasy medieval kingdom where things like allergies aren’t really known. All Gabriel knows is the ‘smell’ of horses makes him ‘sensitive’. Okay bye. 

John & Gabriel. 2.4K words. Allergies. 

Autumn in Etrania came all at once. One afternoon it was hot out, summer lingering and making the more nocturnally challenged inhabitants of the kingdom seek refuge inside the cool shade of their homes. The next day brought a cool breeze and the scent of rain. And every day after that was rain and wind and clouds that were dark and heavy with possibility.

John had decided to take advantage of the sudden arrival of dreariness to spend more time with his horse. Without the need of a hat to protect himself from the deadly sunlight, he understood better the phrase 'weather permitting' than he ever had. It was nice to be able to ride along Gabriel's countryside without worrying about silly things such as sun poisoning. With Gabriel busy all day, holding Court and overseeing some sort of improvement on the castle, John had been presented with both the time and the opportunity for a good, long ride, and he had taken it gladly.

When he returned to the castle finally, stormy twilight had settled over Etrania like an angry, purple blanket. Just as he was handing Satine's reins over to an eager stablehand, the skies opened as if the clouds had been pierced by a thousand tiny knives. Immediately, John had spluttered and lifted an arm to shield himself from the wet, cursing the dreariness that had made a hat unnecessary. You could never win, it would seem. He didn't quite run across the castle grounds, but it was a near thing, his boots slipping over wet grass in his haste to get inside sooner.

It was only as he climbed the stairs to the quarters he shared with Gabriel that he realized just how tired he was. Tired, and drained. Something he had learned since being turned; being tired was very different from feeling drained. He felt drained mostly when he was hungry, just before he started to slip into the bloodlust that made him feel as if his body was dying, one cell at a time, and he felt as if every ounce of energy had been bled from him.

How ironic.

When Lucas sprang forward to open the door for him, with an exaggerated bow and a greeting of, "Hello, Boss!" John barely had the energy to roll his eyes at him. Waving a hand over his shoulder, he shivered and dripped his way into the circular sitting room, reaching up to unfasten the brooch holding his now soggy cloak closed. He sighed, a tired sound, and hung his cloak up to drip near the door. A hand was pushed into his wet hair, and he realized that the very act of hanging up his cloak and pushing damp curls from his eyes had all but done him in. He was tired, he was hungry, and he was cold.

Thankfully, there was already a warm fire burning in the hearth and the unmistakable scent of bergamot tea. It was amazing what he could notice now, with his enhanced vampire senses. The scent of tea on the air. The rumblings of an incoming storm, still miles off. The sound of animals creeping in the forest behind the castle. And the cold. He noticed the cold so much more now, which he had initially found odd. Why would a vampire, one whose blood no longer ran hot, notice the cold? He did, though, finding winter as excruciating as summer, though for very different reasons. He had once, a bit drunkenly after too much brandy taken with Gabriel's father in the study, compared himself to a lizard who didn't know if it wanted to be perched atop a sunny rock, or hiding beneath it.

Gabriel had called himself the rock, and John had become aware, for the first time since being changed, that vampires could blush if they had fed recently enough.

The rock in question was, no doubt, the reason for the crackling fire and John's favourite tea, being kept warm in a kettle wrapped in wool. The king himself was standing near the window, behind a large easel. With a paintbrush in hand and his eyes fixed on the storm, he hadn't moved to greet John, or even lifted his eyes from his work. That meant he was very much caught up in it all, which also meant that John had to go to him. And it didn't matter, it turned out, what you were. Vampire or human, king or commoner. If your partner approached you with damp clothing and skin chilled from the wind and rain, you were likely to notice. No matter what you were doing.

"Christ!" The paintbrush left a streak of navy across the canvas when Gabriel jumped at a cold hand being worked up beneath his shirt. Muffling laughter between his mate's shoulderblades, John held on fast even as Gabriel tried to shake him off, squirming in a very un-royal fashion. "What are you doing, you're freezing! And wet, Johnny, get off!” Despite the harsh words, Gabriel's voice was warm with amusement, and his motions were half-hearted at best. Exaggerated, perhaps, to make John laugh. That was enough to make warmth bloom in John's chest, spreading through him slowly. Not enough to chase the chill from his bones entirely, but definitely enough to make him smile and hum a content note against Gabriel's shoulder.

"I'm cold," he murmured, a shiver running down his spine and making him tremble against the solid warmth of Gabe's back. He took his hand from Gabriel's chest, settling instead for wrapping his arms around his beloved's waist and shuffling closer to him. They were pressed together, from shoulder to hip to knee, and John would still move closer if he could. Gabriel, who was unfed and barely warmer than room temperature, felt as warm to him as if he'd been basking in front of the fire for hours. Rubbing his nose against the soft casual tunic that Gabriel had traded his Court finery for, John kissed his shoulder and tightened his arms around him in a plaintive squeeze. "Come closer."

Gabriel shuffled back a step, moving away from his easel so that he could turn in John's arms and hug him properly. With arms looped loosely around John's waist, he smiled up at him with the kind of tenderness that was reserved for him alone. "Closer? Johnny, I don't think two people can stand closer than we are now. Not that I'm complaining," he added quickly, apparently afraid that John would take offence to his desire to be closer. About to insist that there were several ways that they could, in fact, be closer, John was silenced by a kiss pressed to his forehead. And it was so simple a gesture, so sweet and warm, that it immediately silenced his slightly bawdy protest. Settling for huffing quietly, John dipped his head to accept the second kiss that he knew was coming, and the nuzzle to the tip of his cold nose. Gabriel, his honey-eyed king, could put out a fire just as quickly as he'd set it ablaze, and John was weak to his tiny affections. He pressed his forehead to his collarbone, humming again when the top of his head was kissed quietly.

"How was Court?" It didn't matter that his voice was, more or less, muffled into Gabriel's shirt. He knew that Gabe was used to his need to touch, and to feel, and to be as close as possible some days. And that this sometimes meant he had to decipher John's grumbled speech that was half-obscured by whatever part of his body was currently being spoken to. They had become rather adept at communicating that way. That, and when Gabe refused to lift his head from where it was crushed against his pillow in the mornings, and still thought that John could even halfway understand him.

"Well," Gabriel mused, his lips brushing the top of John's head when he spoke, his voice thoughtful. "It was long. And slow. And dragged on. And..." He cut himself off with soft laughter when John dug a knuckle into his ribs, squirming to get away from the ticklish touch without actually releasing John from the warm circle of his arms. He gave a soft sniffle and braced his chin atop John's curls instead, rubbing one hand over his back absently, a touch that made John sigh contentedly. "It was good. We got a sweet little piglet..." He drew back just enough to press a knuckle beneath his nose, giving it a quick and dismissive rub, and smiled up at John, his eyes sparkling. "He's cute."

"Cute?" Eyes narrowing in suspicion, John pulled back further still. "He is delicious. I'm going to eat him for breakfast!" Gabriel had always wanted a pet, but his father had not allowed it in his youth. And now, because of that, he often joked about keeping every animal that was brought to them as a token. And John would joke right back that he was going to eat said animal. When Gabriel didn't laugh again, the way he normally did, John lifted an eyebrow and poked his mate in the ribs again. "Now, you can't be all that attached to a piglet, Gabe. Really, despite my current company, I do have standards. I--"

"Hh'ITSH’iew!" The sneeze came on so suddenly that it stole away the witty remark that John's tongue was still wrapped around. He blinked in surprise, leaning back when Gabriel turned away hurriedly, curled fist already lifted to deflect another itchy sounding, "Hk'IShhhieew!" A quick sniffle and Gabriel turned back, though he did so hesitantly while performing the rather boyish act of wiping his hand dry against the side of his pants. Pulling a face, John squirmed away from Gabriel, patting his body lightly in search of a handkerchief concealed in some pocket or another. All his hands contacted, however, was the damp fabric of his riding clothing.

"God bless you. I've nothing, I'm afraid. Are you quite alright?" He lifted a hand to touch Gabriel, intending on stroking his thumb over the curve of his cheek. His wrist was caught just short of contact being made, and Gabriel pressed a quick kiss to his palm before gently pushing his hand down. He sniffled again, a quick series of short, wet bursts of sound. It was something that would typically cause irritation to spark in John, the repetitive sound of it getting under his skin. But the expression on Gabriel's face, crumpling slowly as the realization of another sneeze dawned upon him, had him too curiously concerned, and perhaps just a little amused. This must have shown in his expression, some twitch of his mouth, or a sparkle in his eyes, because Gabriel narrowed his eyes at him, damp and pink looking already.

"I'm fine. Wh..why do you look lihh--" He pushed the bulb of his nose into the palm of his hand and rubbed it in quick, rough circles. This was apparently enough for now, enough for him to relieve the itch long enough to finish his thought. "Look like that? Like this is funny?" This was such a childish gesture that most of his worry gave way to further amusement, and John hid a smile behind a hand lifted to his mouth. Gabriel glared, though it was short-lived due to the arrival of the sneeze he'd managed to stave off. He turned aside once more, this time tucking his face neatly into the bend of his elbow. John rubbed his back through the fit, his brows lifting when the count reached seven, and Gabriel's breath hitched once more, indicating he wasn't done yet. There was, however, a pause long enough for John to speak over his mate's shivering breath.

"God bless you. Are you quite done?" He blinked innocently when Gabriel glared at him once more, dark lashes spiked with tears, his eyes pink and sensitive looking. For to be certain, this was one of Gabriel's sensitivities. And John, who had tapped his clothing once again to search in vain for a handkerchief, was quite surprised that it had taken him this long to realise that the scent of Satine must be clinging to him still. And, judging from the expression that crossed Gabriel's face when he fitted John with a watery glare, he had reached the same conclusion.

"What are you wearing? What have you behhh... huhhEISH'oo!" Despite how many times Gabriel had sneezed already, they still sounded desperate, as if the itch in his nose was still simply too much to bear. Another sneeze, a damp sounding, "huhisshhhh!" that was mostly smothered in the sleeve of his shirt, and he finally lifted his head again, looking bleary and blinking rapidly. His voice was a stuffy rasp when he finally spat out, "What did you do today?"

"Well!" Huffing a little, John put further distance between them, moving to the chest of drawers where their handkerchiefs were kept in neat stacks. He pulled one of the more absorbent squares and brought it back to Gabriel, trying not to laugh when the pouting king snatched the cloth from his hand impatiently and held it to his nose with a thick sniffle. "Honestly, you can't expect me to just sit around and look pretty while you're holding court. Don't," he added, when it looked as if Gabriel may make some sort of smart remark. He half-turned from his mate, reaching for the cord belt at his waist. "Don't start. I had to amuse myself somehow, and your father has already trounced me at chess twice this week. You said you wanted me to get out more," he added when Gabriel made a stuffy, annoyed sound before blowing his nose. He continued to defend himself as he undressed, leaving his riding clothes in a growing heap on the floor. "And you gave me Satine to begin with. Remember? She was just a little thing, and..." The river of his defence trickled to almost nothing when he turned, stripped down to just his breeks, and saw the way that Gabriel was looking at him. "What?"

Gabriel sniffled once more, giving his nose one final swipe with the handkerchief before advancing on him, moving in that slowly deliberate way that always sent a chill up John's spine. His voice was thick with congestion when he spoke, but low and simmering with suggestive heat. "Are you still cold?"

Feeling suddenly breathless, John reached up to untie the leather thong that held it back. His curls fell over his shoulders, and he reached for Gabriel with one hand, shivering again. "Come closer."

[vintagevalentinex]

Laundry

So I had this idea for this Benny story this weekend!  It’s not one of the longer ones I’ve written, but I still really like it!  I hope you do as well!

This story was inspired by Etta James singing I Just Want To Make Love To You. Like always, I strong encourage you to listen to the song while you are reading or do so beforehand!

Please let me know what you think! :)

@icecream-and-winchesters​ @bovaria​ @abaddonwithyall​ @aprofoundbondwithdean​ @spnfanficpond​ @theerinpage​ @bkwrm523​ @kittenofdoomage​ @ohfora67impala​ @maraisabellegrey​ @im-an-octopus​

Title: Laundry Author: vintagevalentinex Words: ~1675 Pairing: (Benny x Reader) Warnings: Laundry smut.

“Love to you, ooohooo, Love to you…”  You swayed your hips as Etta James blasted out from the bedroom you shared with Benny.  You had only thrown on one of his henleys and a pair of panties to do the wash for the week.  You were putting the clothes into the washer, still singing the the music, your thoughts kept going back to that handsome man you shared a bed with.  Benny.  Unf.  Why on Earth that gorgeous brute of a man wanted you, you’d never know, but you certainly were not going to question it.  You were definitely the first person to admit that the relationship you had with the vampire was anything but simple, but you were enjoying yourself.   He was a good man; he was loyal and devoted, not to mention that he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever laid your eyes on.  Benny was built sturdy, all muscle and scruff, yet despite all of that, he had the most beautiful, kind eyes you’d ever seen.  When you first met him…er…when he saved your ass from that vampire nest…also known as ‘Sam and Dean get you into the worst situations ever’…you didn’t know what to do.  He was so gorgeous and he fought his own kind to save you…but yet he was still a vampire.  You were so conflicted.  You smiled to yourself as you remember that night…the night that completely made you rethink the way you thought about hunting.

You sat as far as you could on the other side of the truck as it raced away from the abandoned building you were being kept in.  You couldn’t believe you were so foolish as to allow yourself to be kidnapped by such a stupid nest of vampires.  They had been planning on nearly draining you dry before you were saved by…a vampire?  What the hell was going on?  You were so confused and tired, growing more and more frustrated as you got farther away from the dump you were being held captive in.  You stared out the window, wishing you were even farther away than you were now, and as far away as you could be from the vampire sitting on the other side of the truck.

“M’not gonna hurt ya, cher…”

“……”

“S’not exactly the thank you I was expectin’…”

“…didn’t ask to be saved…”

“…so she speaks…good ta know, darlin’…”

You turn your head, watching him intently as he continued to drive on, stealing glances at you as he continued to steer.

“…why?”

“What are ya goin’ on ‘bout, darlin’?”

“Why did you save me?  You just killed a complete nest of you kind…to save me…I’m nothing to you…”

He scoffed bitterly.  “They aren’t my kind, shug.  M’nothin’ like dem. Might be hard for ya ta believe, but m’on your side.”

“…on my side?”

“Sure thing, darlin’…Dean sent me after all.”

You rolled your eyes.  And there it was.  Of course Sam and Dean knew a damn vampire.  The absurdity of it all made complete sense for that pair.

“So…what now?”

He smiled, chuckling a little.  “Well…was figurin’ that ya wanted ta clean up a ‘lil and maybe sleep some before ya hit the road…”

You chewed on your lip.  That did sound amazing actually.

So amazing that you actually never left.

You continued to sway your hips, giggling to yourself as you popped the rest of the laundry into the washing machine, your fingers trailing to the bottom hem of Benny’s henley that hung loosely from your body.  You froze up when you heard a low, appreciative whistle behind you.

I don’t want you to be no slave I don’t want you to work all day But I want you to be true And I just wanna make love to you Love to you, ooohooo Love to you

“Don’t stop on my account, shug…jus’ enjoyin’ the view.”

You turned around; smiling as you rolled your eyes at him, shaking your hips again as you defiantly smirked at him.

“Well…this shirt does seem to be a little dirty from last night’s…festivities…”

He grinned at you as he stepped closer.  “Oh does it, cher?  Ya might as well throw it in wit’ the rest of the wash then, no?”

“Yeah…I guess that’s for the best…”

You started to mouth the words to the song as you slowly pulled Benny’s henley up, letting your skin slowly be revealed to his hungry gaze.

All I want to do is wash your clothes I don’t want to keep you indoors There is nothing for you to do But keep me making love to you Love to you, ooohooo Love to you

You finally pulled the shirt off, throwing it at him as you continued to sway your hips, your bare breasts on display.  Your hands trailed up your own body, smiling saucily at Benny as you cupped your own breasts, chewing on your lower lip, looking up at him through hooded eyes as you ran your hands back down to rest on the elastic of your cotton panties, careful to pull one side down and pull it right back up, giggling softly as you watched Benny’s wolfish grin turn into a scowl.  He stepped closer to you and you put your hands up.

“Not yet, Benny-boy…”

He groaned at the nickname you gave him as you continued to laugh.

“Get on with it, Buffy…”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. Leave it to Benny to binge-watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

“I can always put more clothing on…”

“Now tha’ would be a tragedy upon all mankind, darlin’…”

You let out a loud laugh as you turned around, facing away from him, continuing to sway your hips as your fingers hooked into the sides of your panties, slowly bringing them down past the swell of your ass, bending over as you let them pool around your ankles before stepping out of them.

And I can tell by the way you walk that walk And I can hear by the way you talk that talk And I can know by the way you treat your girl That I could give you all the loving in the whole wide world

All I want you to do is to bake your bread Just to make sure that you’re well fed I don’t want you sad and blue And I just wanna make love to you

Love to you, ooohooo Love to you, oooh

He was on you in an instant.  He pressed himself against your bare ass, bracing yourself against the washing machine as you could hear him growling in your ear.

“I can’t take it anymore, shug.  Need ya right here, right now…”

You moaned breathlessly as he continued to grind against you, your knuckles going white from the sensation.   You could hear him rustling with the buckle of his belt, the tell-tale sound of a zipper being pulled down, and finally hearing his pants pool around his ankles.  One of his hands pawed at your ass, the other cupping your mound, caressing at your folds.

“B-benny, please, need you…”

You could practically hear him smiling as he rubbed against your entrance, taking in a sharp air of breath.

“You already wet for me, darlin’?  That lil’ show of yers really put ya in the mood, huh?  Turning yerself on like dat, lil’ baby?  Lemme give ya what ya need.”

With that he slid into you, your breasts pressed hard against the cold metal of the washing machine, which had just gone into the spin cycle.  You let out a loud groan as the vibrations rocked through you as Benny thrust into you harder, the sounds of skin slapping against skin and the sound of the machine muffling your pleasured cries.  He let out a loud grunt before pulling out of you, much to your dismay before turning you around, pressing his lips to yours hard as he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.  He pushed you against the machine as he entered you again, continuing to thrust into you as he claimed your mouth with his.  Your hands went to his hair, holding on tightly

“Thas’it lil’ baby, give it to me…give it ol’ Benny…want dat lil’ pussy…”

You nearly exploded, his drawl nearly making you combust as you felt yourself tighten around him, gripping his cock hard inside of you as you started to cum, closing your eyes tightly as he thrust into you, following you soon after.

And I can tell by the way you walk that walk And I can hear by the way you talk that talk And I can know by the way you treat your girl That I could give you all the loving in the whole wide world

Oh, all I wanna do, all I wanna do is cook your bread Just to make sure that you’re well fed I don’t want you sad and blue And I just wanna make love to you

Love to you, ooohooo Real love to you, ooohooo Love to you, ooohooo

Benny lifted you up, settling you on top of the washing machine as it finished its cycle.  He pressed his lips to yours again, hands running up and down your back as he calmed the both of you down.  It felt absolutely perfect to kiss him, like your lips were meant for his.  You could live in this moment forever. The both of you jumped as the buzzer for the dryer went off, signaling that your sheets and bed linens were ready.  Benny chuckled as he grabbed them out of the dryer, wrapping you in them as he carried you off to the bedroom.  As he threw you on the bed, he grinned, predatorily crawling up the end of the bed to hover over your naked form.

“S’no point in havin’ clean sheets if ya don’t get’em dirty again…”

You laughed.  I will never finish this laundry ever.  Your thoughts were interrupted however by the glorious burn of Benny’s stubble rubbing at your neck.

Who needs clean clothes anyway?

[juniper-and-lamplight]

Podfic Favorites

7/8/2018

I promised a rebloggable podfic rec list, and here it is! I've recced most of these before, so this is more of round-up than a brand-new rec list; it's multifandom, as usual; it's organized alphabetically by podficcer's name; and it's restricted to no more than 5 pods per podficcer. All of these and more can be found in the podfic tag of my bookmarks. Recs under the cut!

A Symphony of Chemical Reactions - what_alchemy, read by @cellardoortumbles | Cellar_Door - 2k, 22min, T, John/Sherlock "Cooking’s just chemistry and time management." Vivid, quirky Sherlock POV in the text +  excellent use of music and sound in the pod = an extra-charming podfic. Use headphones to get the full audio experience!

More Things Than Are Dreamt Of series - 1electricpirate, read by @consultingsmartarse |  consulting_smartass - 38k, 1hr, M to E, John/Sherlock (Harry Potter fusion AU) “In which John is (reluctantly) a wizard, Mycroft is (apparently) omniscient, and Sherlock is (surprisingly) oblivious.” Hands-down my favorite Potterlock fic, and consulting_smartass' podfics are nuanced and immersive -- I've listened to them countless times now.

Sussex - SilentAuror, read by consulting_smartass - 26k, 3hrs, E, John/Sherlock “John can’t seem to stop touching Sherlock. He can push the anger away, but sometimes he just needs to take Sherlock’s pulse again. Slight angst, case-fic, post-Reichenbach.” Ah, nothing like realistic emotional constipation on the parts of our heroes. This was one of the first podfics I loved enough to download so that I'd always have access to it.

The Stars Move Still - BeautifulFiction, read by consulting_smartass and aranel_parmadil - 96k, 9hrs 48min, E, John/Sherlock, AU "What could I want so desperately that would make me sell my soul? What could possibly compel me to surrender the part of myself that makes me who I am: the source of my magic, my self-control, everything?" I avoided this fic for YEARS because I hate Faust, so I was extremely pleased to discover that the inspiration is VERY loose and thus, the fic, and the pod version, is lovely and incredibly immersive.

Carry On - Mazarin221b, read by consulting_smartass - 4k, 35min, M, John/Sherlock "Five times John didn't want to be carried, and one time he did." One of my favorite 5+1 fics, and a perfectly paced short pod.

Left - lifeonmars, read by consulting_smartass - 45k, 5hrs, E, John/Sherlock, magical realism AU "John Watson is left-handed. He’s tried not to let it affect his life, but as any Lefty knows, that’s almost impossible." Honestly, consulting_smartass' talent has broadened my fanfic horizons, because while I'm generally not keen on reading AUs (especially long ones), I'm amenable to listening to them -- and so I don't miss out on fantastic fics & performances like this one.

The Girlfriend Experience, rageprufrock, read by dodificus - 9k, 2hrs, E, Dean/Castiel “While it’s not like Dean hasn’t had a couple of truly regrettable hit-and-runs in his sexual history, this is probably the saddest fucking thing that has ever happened to him.” Sometimes, when a podficcer's accent is different than the accents in the source material, it just works in ways you wouldn't have expected-- this pod is one of those times.

The Company - Rulerofthefakeempire, read by @dr-fumbles-mcstupid | Dr_Fumbles_McStupid and RsCreighton - 2k, 11min, T, Dirk/Todd "He’s imagined this moment so often that it feels like he just doing it again, waking up with a hangover next to Dirk Gently. And Dirk’s naked." A quietly funny fic, and a quietly funny performance.

Interrogation - goingtoalaska, read by Dr_Fumbles_McStupid - 2k, 13 min, G, Dirk/Todd "Of course Dirk has some extremely important questions that can only be asked in the middle of the goddamn night, obviously." Almost entirely dialogue, and really captures the ridiculous-with-an-undercurrent-of-softness vibe of these two characters.

There's Only One Sure Thing That I Know - leah k (blinkiesays), read by exmanhater - 20k, 2hrs, E, Dean/Castiel "Dean doesn't even get halfway through explaining before Bobby starts laughing. When he lets himself think about it for more than five seconds, Dean can almost see Bobby's point: he's faced down demons, witches, vampires, werewolves, ghosts, angels, and Satan himself and now he's been defeated by the God damn Midwest." This podfic is a road-trip standby for me and my Destiel-shipping wife.

A Statue Strong Enough for Two - lady_ragnell, read by exmanhater - 39k, 3hrs 30min, E, Elena/Mithian, superhero AU "Elena is a street-level superhero. A visit from an old enemy forces her to step up and see what she might have to do with the Sidhe who invaded and were sent away twenty years ago. Luckily, she has fellow superheroes to back her up, and a new girlfriend in her regular life to make things feel more normal." In addition to encouraging me to try out AUs, podfic also encourages me to try out rarepairs--I wouldn't have thought to look for fic about these characters, but I'm so glad I stumbled across & listened to this one.

Lab Book - copperbadge, read by FayJay - 5k, 40min, E, John/Sherlock “'The likelihood of finding a cab on Christmas Eve is fast approaching nil.’ 'So was the likelihood of you kissing me in the middle of the pavement, and yet.’” An annual holiday read/listen!

Whatever Remains, However Improbable - ivyblossom and Loudest_Subtext_in_Television, read by @fffinnagain​ | finnagain - 13k, 90min, T, John/Sherlock “The evidence is all there: we know it’s bound to happen. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are going end up together, aren’t they? Obviously!” An experiment in fourth-person omnitemporal tense. Subtle sound effects add dimension to this podfic.

Diversionary Tactics - shinysherlock, read by finnagain - 2k, 16min, E, Molly/Irene, historical AU "Oh. This could be interesting. Irene’s fingers moved to the third button of the dress and paused. 'Shall I just . . . check the rest of you, then? Make sure you’re quite all right?'" A brief, hot, historical PWP, Mollrene style. UNF. Finnagain's performance is very...impassioned--maybe don't listen in public ;)

Seeing Draco Malfoy - khalulu, read by fire_juggler - 12k, 2hrs, E, Harry/Draco A beautifully done podfic, delivered with warmth and humor. Once I listened to it twice in one week and wound up with the phrase “Nubbumping Humdinger” stuck in my head, and it made me bust out smiling at random times :-)

Let Nothing You Dismay - montparnasse, read by Hananobira - 19k, 2hrs, M, Sirius/Remus "There are a few things Sirius really didn't count on for Christmas of 1979. The extreme sexual confusion is one of them; Remus Lupin is approximately seventy-eight of the rest." There’s a full-on, sensory vividness to the imagery and descriptions in montparnasse's writing, and LISTENING to those words makes the experience even more immersive.

Splendid Night - Katie Forsythe, read by heuristicdevice - 14k, 1hr 30min, M, Holmes/Watson "A Christmasy spin on MILV with a heart-warming dose of H/W." So much miscommunication! I love this fic so hard, and I ESPECIALLY love the podfic. Heuristic Device’s rendering of “now, please,” in a Certain Scene is both quiet and full of feeling, while other sections of the story are infused with audible humor, excitement, and heartbreak, each as they’re called for.

Stately Homes of Wiltshire - waspabi, read by @lazulus​ - 57k, 6hrs, E, Harry/Draco "Malfoy Manor has mould, dry rot and an infestation of unusually historical poltergeists. Harry Potter is on the case." Fair warning that listening to this podfic whilst walking my dog led to funny looks from strangers, because it caused me to laugh at loud for no apparent reason.

A Brand of Gold - aquabelacqua, read by @lockedinjohnlock-podfics​ | Lockedinjohnlock – 12k, 2hrs, M, John/Sherlock “What am I doing? he wondered. The answer came back at once: Flirting.” This fic is just plain beautiful, and the pod is one of my favorite performances by Lockedinjohnlock.

Points - lifeonmars, read by Lockedinjohnlock - 54k, 7 hrs, E, John/Sherlock "What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other." Picture it: yours truly, driving alone and terrified through darkness, rain, and heavy traffic…and yet unwilling to turn off this podfic. THAT’S how deep lifeonmars and Lockedinjohnlock took me into this story.

Midnight Plowboy - weeesi, read by Lockedinjohnlock - 5k, 44min, E, John/Sherlock “'Does it feel like I’m sure?' John whispers into Sherlock's ear. Sherlock swallows again." In which John discovers Sherlock's collection of vintage gay erotica. *imagine several fire emojis here*

Half a Dozen Dances - CeruleanDarkangelis, read by Lockedinjohnlock - 19k, 2.4 hrs, E, John/Sherlock "'Seriously? You? You're going to be a stripper?' John tried to keep the amused incredulity off his face. Judging by the disgruntled look Sherlock gave him, he was not entirely successful in this endeavor.'" Typically, stripper fics are just Not My Thing, but the use of music in this podfic sold me.

(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea - DiscordantWords, read by Lockedinjohnlock - 40k, 5hrs, M, John/Sherlock "Baker Street is very much the same. Only different. And Sherlock is just trying not to drown." The way the author & podficcer capture Sherlock's voice in this fic feels SO TRUE: his shattered hubris, his desperate resistance to vulnerability, and the believable way he and John finally get through it all.

Senza Catene - Mad_Lori, read by @oncomingtragedy​ - 6k, 1hr, T, John/Sherlock "Sherlock has a secret hobby. One night John follows him to find out what his flat mate is up to and gets the surprise of his life." The one where Sherlock sings opera--cracky but oh-so-enjoyable. The podfic performance includes several musical interludes.

All Life is Yours to Miss - Saras_Girl, read by originally reads - 114k, 11 hrs 20 min, M, Harry/Draco "Professor Malfoy's world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go." Another one I might have missed (due to personal impatience) if not for the miracle of podfic!  The pod is well-performed, and the slower listening process makes the resolution feel even more satisfying.

The Price We Pay for Wings - Frayach, read by @raitala​ - 13k, 80min, M, Harry/Draco "Scorpius Draconis Eltanin Malfoy read the first book in the Alford Ocamy series over Christmas hols when he was eleven. Well, he didn’t so much “read” it as he devoured it." I've recced this a million times before, and I'll keep reccing it because I CRIED ACTUAL LITERAL TEARS LISTENING TO THIS. 10/10 would be devastated by again.

i don't wanna give you up (i don't wanna let you love somebody else but me) - notcaycepollard, read by @revolutionaryjo​ - 3k, 20min, E, Erin/Jillian "Erin Gilbert is not the second or even the fifth straight girl Jillian’s ever fallen for, and it’s kind of getting to be a problem, except when she sees Dr Erin Gilbert, she thinks, maybe, this woman might be a statistical outlier." Closely observed, funny, hot, and the narrative voice is p e r f e c t (both in the text and in the podfic performance).

The Temporal Tornado - novembersmith, read by RevolutionaryJo and Lunate8 - 3k, 37min, G, Carlos/Cecil "A temporal tornado reduced our most beloved scientist, Carlos, into a darling little toddler version of his already darling self, didn’t it? Yes it did, oh yes it did! Plus, a jellyfish migration is underway, a mysterious series of unexplained crevasses are appearing in the streets of Night Vale, and valuable advice is provided on the care and feeding of children." Audio is the only logical format for a Night Vale fic like this one :)

Common Woodbrown - imochan, read by RevolutionaryJo - 36k, 3hrs 40 min, M, Remus/Sirius "'Look well into thyself; there is a source of strength which will always spring up if thou wilt always look there.' In 1985, Remus Lupin realizes that Sirius Black is innocent. Now, he just has to prove it." Both author and podficcer create a sensitive rendering of the angst, fragility, and determination of Remus Lupin.

Sentiment to Paper - mistyzeo, read by RickyPulsifer - 7k, 57min, E, Holmes/Watson "No fewer than three times by the winter of 1883 had I heard Sherlock Holmes disparage the ways of lovers and their irrational tendencies toward writing letters. With this often and loudly-expressed opinion in mind, I was very surprised indeed to find a stack of unsent, unsealed letters in a drawer in his desk." RickyPulsifer’s podfic is a quiet wonder of smooth pacing, emotive delivery, and thoughtful production.

Splendid Creature - mistyzeo, read by RickyPulsifer and the_dragongirl - 2k, 20min, E, Holmes/Watson "Holmes has tired himself out on a case and wants to go straight to sleep. After an orgasm or two. Watson is more than happy to help." A sleepy, steamy PWP featuring a transmasculine Holmes, read by two podficcers whose voices work together beautifully.

Cold Snap - MirithGriffin, read by verityburns - 5k, 34min, E, John/Sherlock “The Mayo Clinic prescription for hypothermia is this: Tea. Blanket fort. Sex. All right, it doesn’t come right out and say that on the website. But Sherlock can read between the lines.” Verity Burns' delivery nails both the snark and the sweetness of this fic.

First Night Out - verityburns, read by the author - 3k, 22min, M, John/Sherlock “As John recovers from the effects of a brutal kidnapping, he and Sherlock attend the Yarders’ Christmas Party. There are… developments on the dance floor…” I loved this fic for YEARS before I listened to the podfic and realized that the audio version–read by the author herself–makes it exponentially more charming and more intimate.

Further fic recs | Fic bookmarks

[badbloodmagic]

@demoniiiic didn’t really ask for this bullshit but gets it anyways xoxo 

   There were many things that Hazelle had done for the first time and had repeated them since then, some of the acts were horrible, dreadful things, often viewed by those that had morals as evil; Hazelle, however, viewed them as a way of living. When one was immortal and was not first instilled with any sense of proper behavior, or rather, they had been a creature of the dark since they were brought into this world, what was considered evil became a bit distorted. Hazelle was a different creature now, the monster all the priests and doctors, scientists and her family had told her she was from the age of a young child. She had become all which they had feared. Despite this evil, the corrupt and damaged flower was still eager for love, eager for something she never had—happiness. As she was reliving something she’d done several times over, Hazelle was sure she’d never find that feeling ever in any life time, the scent of sterilized rooms and obnoxiously white floors, all too familiar. Making her sick, but she knew it was more than that, she had been starved, trapped and cornered like a beast and brought to the place where individuals who acted on suggestions by voices in their heads were taken. They had to beat her down, even though they had cornered her, waited her out for quite a long time, she’d been starving herself prior to the endeavor or her capture, but they had to beat her to finally capture her and then sedated her heavier than she’d ever been in the past-- it was terrifying, even for a creature who could tear them all to fucking pieces.

    The raven-haired beauty struggled to walk on her own, weak in her unfed and starved state, the modern age had brought new technologies to slow her down, tranquilizers were one of those. Although, it had taken quite a few to stop her from hurting the authorities and those other professionals that had been there to help capture her—admittedly, Hazelle had lost her mind, the voices were stronger in her starved state, her undernourished and feeble mentality. As they dragged her down the hall towards whatever place they deemed safe, Hazelle fought to keep her mind from giving in, it would only cause more trouble if she were to attack now, she was confident in her abilities but in the state she was currently in, even the crazed woman knew it was a pointless attack to make. She stumbled, staggered against the men carrying her before her knees hit the cold tile floor.

     Slouched against broad shouldered orderlies, Hazelle muttered, whining as her head lulled back, pale cheeks stained with tears and smeared with blood, they hadn’t even been decent enough to offer her a rag, a blanket, anything to calm her down, just one too many shots and a body she could no longer control. They ended up wherever had been chosen as her destination, cool and wet tile slid beneath her bare feet as the two men removed her gown and sat her down, surprisingly gentle before a hard rush of water met her slender frame. A hose, she supposed this was their way of bathing her without getting too close. The vampire cried out at the sudden cold water, shielding her face as they soaked her, soul and all. Hazelle had been here before, in this mental and physical trap, it was not a pleasant place to be. Hazelle pulled her legs up against her chest, a whimper shuddering past her cold lips as the orderlies hosed her off until they were satisfied. This time they were not gentle hauling her to her feet again, a towel was dragged over her body by a female nurse, at least Hazelle thought the other was female, it didn’t really matter, they had already seen her in her full glory, starving and clawing her way through the police as if they were some diseased creatures. Her old clothes were replaced, something thinner, slacks and a long-sleeved shirt before they were back in the halls.

     At some point she lost consciousness, perhaps it was from the shock of the shower or the drugs that were overpowering in her system, regardless of whichever it was, Hazelle woke with a start, pale eyes sharp and dangerous as she shot up from the curled-up position she had been in. The orderlies had placed her in a room, the cot on which she sat on was hard, not at all comfortable but what need did something dead have of softness, especially when they did not sleep, often, or at all, the only reason she had done so was due to the day's ordeal. Being starved and weak, hosed and beat, drugged and belittled, the day had certainly been trying for Hazelle. A quick glance about the room confirmed the passing events had not been in her mind, if they had, then, her mind was even more of a torturous place than she had lived to believe. Slowly, once she had become accustomed to her surroundings, the raven-haired vampire slipped from the cot, feet still bare but grazing a pair of shoes next to the bed. With a nauseating sting in her veins, Hazelle turned the knob of the door separating her from the rest of the facility, surprisingly, the door was unlocked.

    Naturally, she thought this to be a trap, as if the moment she stepped outside the door she would be thrown into a world of pain and beaten again in her weak state. Memories flashed before her eyes as she gently pulled the door open, silently due to her supernatural stealth, the ultimate killer. Her feet were silent on the cold tile as she moved from the room, why they would trust her and not bind her to the cot was beyond her, it was their mistake, not hers. A glance up and down the hall proved that she was alone for the time being, it also confirmed the lack of natural light, no windows. She was in a place she had been several times before, this time she was frail and broken, starved, she needed to feed if she were to break out of this desolate and horrid place. Hazelle padded lightly down the hall towards the place where she could hear the buzzing of electricity and the mild commotion of other beings, humans, she could smell them, one hand on the white walls to steady herself. As she neared the end of the hall a voice called to her, silent to all others, but deafening in her ear, causing Hazelle to recoil, it was of course, the OTHER demons which resided within her.

                    Slaughter them all, you can do it, get the orderlies first. Kill them.

    There was a flash in her pale eyes, something far more sinister, at the suggestion of murder, the lust for the coppery taste of blood dripping from her mouth was making her sick, pushing open double doors to expose what was obviously the common room Hazelle took a breath, remembering it was normal to do as much. The other crazies lingered within the room, having quirks and disturbances of their own, all in their own little worlds. Few things made Hazelle feel dizzy, being in an asylum surely made no warm feeling within her, seeing others act on their own demons almost disgusted her, part of her, a part of her that was nothing more than a fictitious voice in her head.

   Look at them, disgusting creatures, slaughter them, tear them limb from limb, murder them.

     Hazelle instinctively batted at her ear, as if waving off a fly that was bothering her by buzzing about her head. A troubled and earnest look sculpted her features as she stepped further into the room, ignoring the looks and soft worded comments about the newest arrival. Being around people often helped, when she was in control, that was, of her hunger, of her impulses, of the voices. Finding a corner was easy, the other ‘patients’ scrambled away or laughed as they gave her space, most of them, anyways. Her hands were cupped over her ears, black, messy hair covering her face a bit before she slumped down on an old brown and rough couch, the television before the couch black, Hazelle focused on her reflection for a while before a body clad in white paused before her. An orderly.

“If you’re goin’a trip out on us, we will have to subdue you.” The orderly warned, squatting to get on the same level as her gaze. “Do you understand?”

      She did understand but she couldn’t control them now, she was far too weak, they were all the same, the orderlies, it still surprised her that they had not restrained her, considering how violent she had been upon capture. The man moved, causing her to flinch some, recoiling as he tried to touch her, he did the same, standing and putting a hand on his baton as if she would leap out and attack him. Which wasn’t far from what went through her mind before he called out to another orderly. “I think she needs her meds—Fitz.” A moment later another orderly appeared and the two of them hesitantly moved to give Hazelle an injection, she struggled, whining and pulling her legs up to fend them off with a kick or two, it didn’t last long, they pinned her down and gave her the shot, soon the medicine was corrupting her veins, making her lethargic once again. It didn’t, however, stop the voice, it was louder than ever now as it had control of her mind.

      Hazelle made a noise that resembled a sob, “Please--- I don’t--- I don’t want it, I don’t want the medicine.” She didn’t want to be weak, be famished and paler than she was even when she had fed. She looked as if she were on the precipice of death, waiting to take his hand and walk to Hades. This was how she would die, starving and drugged out until her vampiric body withered away. Hazelle sluggishly pulled her legs up to her chest, curling against the couch on which they had left her, mind swimming and finally the voice was silenced for a moment, the rest of them, though, given the opportunity the dominant one was silent, they took their chance to torment the raven-haired beauty. “No—No—Stop talking—“ Her voice was soft, barely a breath, her body taken over completely by the drugs as she tried to blink away the pain, tears burning her cold cheeks, slender arms hugging her knees to her chest. Pale eyes were caught somewhere in the distance, Hazelle didn’t see anyone before her, all she saw was what was crashing through her mind.

[fayvie]

Sunday at NEEHU: Teacher’s Pet

Sunday morning I woke up very sick. It was bound to happen, but I had boasted for ages that it had been over a year since I was sick with anything and that came back to bite me in the ass. But it was more important to get to The Society in anticipation of the class I was due to be demoing. We had discussed the outline of the class previously, various mind control topics, who would demo what, etc. I was so nervous but excited (theme of the weekend?). I had never watched @erogenousmind and @meltinggoldanddippingthingsinit play before, so I was really excited to see what the dynamic might look like.

Mind Control Fantasies vs. Hypno realities:  @sebsteerpike and @erogenousmind did a fantastic job running the class, I could probably listen to those two talk for ages, and in general it was so great to be in a room full of people that shared the same interests. The first example was when Seb tranced me to feel as though the remote he was holding would control me. It was something we had played around with only briefly in the past, but I loved the concept particularly in erotica. Maybe part of the intensity was performance anxiety, but the commands felt so strong and compulsory.

It started off very basic. “Stand up, Freeze” and then, to combat my resistance, there was a button that made me love the idea of the remote being used on me. One button made me go completely blank and mindless. And then a button that forced me to grope myself in front of a room full of people. Then we were on to the next demo!

Ariadne and EM did a really enthralling ( literally ) example of vampire play, with a growing allure and intensity building up to him biting her. Unf. I wish I had a better seat to watch it!

Following that, we re-visited the parasite trance, and I once again experienced the feeling of a worm burrowing into my forehead, eating my brain and thoughts. They multiplied, grew, crept down my spine, infected my nervous system, and I was unable to move or stop it. Then the pleasure came, and once again I found myself moaning and groping myself in front of a room full of people.

The highlight didn’t happen until afterwards, when I had the joy of infecting Ariadne (who has a hilarious sense of humour as she attempted to spread the parasite to @erogenousmind, as the worms demanded). It was so much fun and I think the class was pretty well received, and I’m so glad that I got the chance to demo for it!

I finally worked up the nerve and had the time to pin down @erogenousmind for a trance. We had discussed it vaguely leading up to the weekend, but I found myself getting really nervous every time I was preparing to talk about what we should do. Fortunately, he took the reigns and suggested a few ideas based off of past tumblr posts, and we were off to the races!

I hadn’t had the opportunity to explore much doll play until this point, but he tranced me to feel incredibly doll-like: blank, wide-eyed, and smiling. He then posed me, as a “Fayvie Doll,” and I don’t remember the specifics, but I do remember a really exciting moment when he stood me up, posed me, and walked away for a moment. It felt like a really light, thrilling level of objectification that made me all weak in the knees.

I decided to raise the bar and ask if he’d trance me using a confusion induction. I realize that confusion inductions in particular can be difficult to improvise on the spot, but if he struggled with it, there was no indication. I sank like a rock. Then I fondly remember being tranced to want to hypnotize him, but feeling my words bounce back to myself the more that I try.

I awoke with a burst of excitement “I want to trance you!” I used the most cliche phrases while running my fingers up and down his arm, he played along beautifully, and I don’t even remember the point where suddenly I wasn’t aware or talking anymore. Definitely something I’d love to try again in future.

The day was off to a fantastic start, despite con flu firmly taking hold. I have enough to talk about regarding the rest of the day that I’m going to break the post off here. I promise not to make it another 3-parter like Saturday, but there’s great things still to come!

Next time: Voluntary kidnapping, hot tub trances, and getting tied up!

[reapers-carino]

Oh wow. That Mako x Reader has me bothered. Could you write one with a really rough Mako? Also not sure if this is something you play around with, but maybe something with vampire!mako?

((Just a warning, there is choking, blood, and fear play))

You may have messed up…badly. Light and dark spots began to fill your vision as Mako’s hand began to tighten around your throat,  your brows furrowed and eyes wide as he choked you. Tears burned in your eyes before rolling down your cheeks, your chest heaving as you tried to pull air into lungs, your fight-or-flight response kicking in too late. Mako smirked as your hands rose, clawing pitifully, desperately at his large appendage, doe like gaze begging him for forgiveness.

“Unf!”

You completely crumpled to the floor as soon as Mako released his hold on your throat, hands scrambling up to rub at your throat as you heaved air into you oxygen starved lungs. A scream tore from your aching throat, chest still rising and falling as Mako’s hand twisted into your hair, the behemoth of a man effortlessly picking you from the ground and holding you on your tiptoes. Your eyes darted to Mako’s bright gray ones, more tears spilling down your cheeks when you saw the disappointment, the agitation in his gaze.

“I-I-I am so sorry Master”, you gasped out, trying to keep the whine that Mako despised out of your voice. “I a-apologize! P-please!”

“Hm”, Mako grunted, briefly setting you back on your feet but not loosing his hand from your scalp. “What did you do, huh?”

A very soft whine slipped from your throat, a cry following as his hand twisted to hurry you up.

“I ate something sp-sp-spicy”, you whimpered, stumbling backwards as he released you, glowering down at you. You shrank under his gaze, sudden arousal fighting with the need to prostrate yourself before him. You adored it when he was rough with you, craved it. But this is a mistake you would never make purposefully. “I’m sorry Master! It w-was careless of me, I tried something n-new when I was out and I didn’t kn-know…”

The large daywalker absolutely despised what spicy food did to your blood; twisting bitter, acrid notes into the sweet, fruity vanilla notes that normally accented your life force. He was a lover of all things sweet; still partaking in fruits and chocolates and pastries despite them providing no real nutritional value. And you were no exception to that preference. The two of you had stumbled upon each other almost two decades ago, a particularly potent allergy season causing frequent nosebleeds whenever you ventured outside. You had made it a habit to keep several packs of tissue on you at all times but on that particular day you had been running late and forgotten to stock up your supply.

You had ran face first into Mako, stumbling backwards, your cupped hands just barely stemming the flow of blood from reaching the crisp Pachimari shirt he wore. His eyes practically glittered when your gazes locked, unable to look away from the man even as your nose leaked. Now you knew that was his glamour, a hypnotic gaze that captivated you, but then you thought it was love at first sight. He was so tall, hair a startling shade of snow white and yet he didn’t look a day over 40 to you. His tan skin was marred by a few scars but it had your mind running through so many questions even as he offered you his handkerchief and an escort to the bathrooms. From that moment on you had been enthralled by the man; Mako surprisingly open about what he was and what he wanted from you, mincing no words. And despite having just met him, you took the plunge. Since then you had been his; his lover, his submissive and plaything and his favorite meal. Biannually he required that you drink from him; a cut on the wrist imbuing you youth and vigorous energy, adding years to your lifespan without turning you. He loved you and didn’t require much of you but when you did make mistakes…you knew there would be a price to pay.

The frown on his face twisted into a slow, knowing sneer as he stared down at you, the knowing look in his silver eyes and the glint of one of his fangs sending a shiver of fearful ecstasy down your spine. Run. You didn’t know if it was the look in his gaze or your actual flight-or-fight response, but you didn’t care. The word sounded in your head like an alarm as he began to stalk towards you, the man towering over you even more with you being on the floor. You clumsily began to slide backwards, your dress sliding further beneath your ass and helping you scoot before you twisted and pushed yourself up. You tripped over your own feet, once then twice as you darted away from him, hip checking the dining room table as you escaped from the dining room into the kitchen. You rounded the island, trying to rush towards the door that would lead to the hall where maybe you cou–

“Get over here!”

You squeaked as you felt his forearm wrap around your waist and yank you backwards against the warm bulk of his stomach. You flailed and screamed, babbling apologies as you attempted to free yourself from his tight hold, tears rolling down your cheeks as you pointlessly pushed at him. He chuckled darkly as he stood to full height, smirking as he carried you through the house and towards the playroom. Halfway there you gave up the struggle, hiccuping and sniffling pitifully as you continued to apologize over and over. He said nothing to you, a man of few words, continuing to laugh lowly even as he threw you onto the bed. You laid there stunned for a brief moment before attempting to sit up.

“Stay”, he ordered, the slight growl in his gravelly voice pinning you to your seat.

“Y-yes Master”, you answered, shuddering as you laid back fully, fingers rubbing at your tear-stained cheeks. “I really am sorry…”

You watched Mako pause for a brief moment, the vampire turning to look at you with a softer look in his gaze.

“Apology accepted”, he answered, his voice genuine before he turned back towards the large chest he was rummaging through. Relief flooded through you, warmth emanating from chest at his simple words of forgiveness. “You still deserve your punishment.”

Uneasiness crackled through you as he turned, the thin belt he held in his hands making a shiver dance down your spine. This wasn’t one the man wore, rather, one bought for the express purpose of punishing you. It was a thin belt, hand dyed black and made by a small shop in a country the two of you had visited years ago. The belt buckle was simple and silver, no real embellishments added nor needed for what the device would be used for. It was said that the mind did not hold onto the idea of pain but you could vividly remember how it felt when the thin belt would snap across your skins; the reddened welts that would dance across your skins before the belt would crack again across another area.

You felt your heart jump into your throat, as he descended upon you, the fear that rippled through you spiking when his large hand effortlessly wrapped around your ankle and pulled you to the edge of the bed. His eyes were locked on you, belt dropping on the bed as you were captivated by his gaze. Flinching, you whined as his hands grabbed the edge of your dress, a surprised squeak of protest tumbling from your lips as his hands tore through the fabric of your dress. He snickered, his eyes pulling away yet still trapping you with their intensity, his gaze slowly dancing down your body. You could feel him eye the pouty expression on your lips, his tongue darting out as he looked at the junction of skin between your shoulders and neck. Your bare chest was falling and rising, blood rushing through, this apex predator of a man surging forward and delicately taking your throat in his hands once more. He didn’t squeeze though, his large fingers turning your face from left to right, soaking in your expression while his other hand dragged down your body. As tense and as frightened as you were you couldn’t help but shiver under his touch, a surprised moan wrenched from your lips as his hand cupped your clothed cunt.

“You’re soaked”, he said simply as his large middle finger dragged up and down the soaked crotch of your panties, teasing the covered folds before pressing hard where your clit was.

Your thighs twitched, trapping his hand briefly before a slight squeeze of your throat made you release him. Your hips wiggled, whimpering and moaning softly as he continued to toy with you, knowing you had completely soaked through the thin cotton of your panties. He chuckled, the laugh deep and throaty before he pulled back, making a show of lifting his hand to his face and licking your juices from his fingers. A searing blush climbed down from your cheeks and into your neck, your eyes tempted to squeeze shut in bashfulness yet knowing better. Mako craved the blown out look of your pupils, the tears making your eyes glimmer and shine in a way that made something primal within him purr. Your heart began to pound hard as a slow, feral grin tugged at Mako’s lips, his hands pulling away from your body briefly before both of his hands grasped at your hips. You braced yourself as he effortlessly flipped you over, one hand pinning the small of your back down while his other massaged at your ass.

“Ma-master”, you moaned as you pressed your face into the comforter, biting at the fabric to nip at your moans. Your body responded to his touch hungrily, your skin overly sensitive and tingling, your ass arching into his hand and cunt dripping. He massaged at your full flesh hard, bringing the blood to the surface and to prepare your ass for the beating it was about to endure.

He responded with a low rumbling sound of amusement before his hand lifted away and fell back against your rear dully. You gulped slowly as his intensity slowly began to pick up, the slaps starting off gentle and spaced apart before speeding up and increasing in strength and speed. The pressure of his hand against the small of your back held you in place, your leg kicking and squirming met with quick, sharp slaps to your upper thighs as a warning. Tears burned at your eyes, you nethers throbbing and dripping traitorously as the torture drove you to pained rapture. You whined low in your throat as he gave you the shortest reprieve, your head twisting away from the tear-stained comforter and breathing deeply and sniffling pitifully. You whined as his hand smoothed over your hot, reddened ass, a low, breathy chuckle leaving his lips.

“We’re just getting started”, he breathed out, the jingling of the belt buckle keying you into what was coming next. You bit down on your bottom lip hard as the cool leather of the belt was teasingly dragged across your ass, tensing up as he pulled back.

Mako waited until you relaxed to bring the first swing down onto your waiting ass; a searing pain spreading through your ass, a scream of surprise torn from your lips. He set a brutal pace, the belt falling on your skin in crisscrossing patterns, barely a moment reprieve before it fell against your ass again. Your screams and cries filled the air, your body flinching and rolling as the stinging pain of it all spread through your body, your nethers absolutely dripping with masochistic desire. Still, your mind reminded you that this was your fault, that you had earned your punishment with your carelessness. He was doing this so you would do better, be better, be the good girl he expected you to be. You didn’t know how long his punishment lasted, your screams dissolving into whimpers as he slowed down, gasping out surprisedly as his large hand lightly caressed the welts that covered your ass. The bed sunk next to you as he took a seat, his hands reaching out to gently pick you up into his arms.

“C’mere”, he said softly, his arms cradling around you, his hands gently massaging your stinging rear. “You learned your lesson?”

You nodded your head quickly, sniffling loudly as he pushed the tears away from your cheeks, pressing your face hard into his shoulder. His hand soothed the sting away, leaving your rear with a dull throbbing and heat, murmuring soft words of encouragement to you before gently coaxing your chin away from his shoulder.

“Hm”, you hum, your body tired yet humming for your lover, his gray eyes darkened with lust.

“Good girl”, he said simply before dipping down and crushing a kiss to your lips, your body shivering hard at the contact.

You moaned into his mouth, one of his teeth lightly nipping at your lips, his tongue darting out to lick the blood that beaded out. Your hands clawed at his chest as he suckled at your bottom lip, the hand on your rear massaging even harder as you pulled yourself closer to him. Heat burned through you, molten desire pooling in your nethers as he tasted your life essence, your eyes flickering open and shut before he lowered you back onto the bed and stood. You watched him as he methodically began to disrobe, unbuttoning his shirt bit by bit before pushing it off and revealing his scarred and hairy chest. His pants were tight, his thick cock straining to be released from its confined, his hand massaging his cock teasingly for a moment before unzipping his pants. Your tongue darted out as you stared at his length, pre-cum dripping from the thick, reddened head of his shaft. Moving back onto the bed, Mako reached out and gently nudged your legs apart with one of his hands, his palm pressing and massaging into your soaked cunt.

“Please”, you whined, your back arching as he teased your folds, one of his fingers beginning to press against your dripping entrance.

You gasped louder as the thick digit entered you, swirling around slowly and teasing your walls carefully. He never rushed, no matter how loudly you begged, knowing he needed to stretch you so he didn’t tear or hurt you. Your hips rolled slowly, trying to press more of him in and mewling when his thumb grazed your needy clit, your breath stolen as he began to press another digit in. Slowly he scissored his fingers inside of you, stretching you out bit by bit until you had cum once, lips parted and body writhing in need. Peering up at him through half-lidded eyes, a shudder of desire ran down your spine as he hungrily cleaned his hand of your juices. There was no rush in his movements as he turned you onto your stomach once more, his hands gently positioning you so your chest was pressed to the blanket, your ass and dripping cunt presented perfectly to him. Pulling your arms under your chin, you cast a look over your shoulder as he moved closer, your lips parting as he began to press into your needy cunt.

No matter how many times the two of you had coupled, Mako was always a tight fit. You hissed as he stretched your walls, your eyes squeezing tight as he filled you, toes curling as he pulled halfway out before pressing forward once more. Slowly he rocked in and out of you, your cunt slowly stretching to accommodate him as the swell of his belly pressed against your ass and back. You cried out as he finally bottomed out inside of you, your walls clinging to him tight and fluttering at the slightest movement he made. His hips rolled and snapped as he fucked you into the mattress, his hands smoothing down your spine and sides and massaging at your skin tenderly. You were in heaven; your skin purring at his touch, ass and cunt throbbing in unison as he pounded into you, making it known that he not only forgave you but he craved you desperately.

Stars danced behind your eyes as pleasure overtook you, body succumbing to his motions, unable to resist the precipice that was your orgasm. Mako had learned your body and its ticks, how a twist of a hips to the right made your toes curl and bottoming out made your brain go fuzzy and blank. Clawing at the comforter, he pressed fully into you, your mind flooded with thoughts of how you belonged to him, how he would care for you, how he loved you. He was flooding your mind as he filled your body with his hardness, completely encompassing you both physically and mentally with everything that was him. You could barely breathe as his pace picked up, his hips crashing into yours as the two of you pushed closer to coming undone together. You plunged over the ledge first, Mako following soon after as your walls milked him for his seed. Mako’s arm wrapped tight around your waist, the man twisting to the side as he carefully pulled out of your cunt, his seed spilling down your thighs and onto the comforter, pulling your body up until your head was near his.

You were tired, your eyes heavy as he nuzzled into the side of your neck, pressing soft kisses into the crook of your shoulder and neck before biting down onto the same place he always had. Tingling warmth spread from the bite throughout your body, your eyes slipping closed completely as you allowed him to make a meal of you, knowing there was no other place you would rather be.

(So my logic behind all of this is that fear/arousal chases away the bitter notes and makes it complex and delicious. I do hope you enjoyed loves :))