#david herd

[lisbs]

[assassinsmusical]

my copy of moby dick has a foreword by david herd but i keep reading it as david herold and it catches me off guard every time

[thebadtimewolf]

wdym "undercover tory"? genuine question, what did rtd do?

💅🏾💅🏾💅🏾do not pour all your trust into the very people that is the direct reason of said complaints in the fandom by their silent compliance. be happy, not distracted.✨️✨️✨️

✨️💅🏾✨️💅🏾✨️do. not. trust. him. babes. that "oh that last you, she would've understood. let it go." line was a red flag. the lack of poc episode writers for this break out season is another red flag. rouge sounding way too much like john barrowman than mr. johnathan geoff himself is another red flag. the episodes we may get hype over may not age well. especially favorited ones. hello example 38 last of the time lords. be on fucking guard.✨️💅🏾✨️💅🏾✨️

[drawfee-quot3s]

thank u david the editor for in today's episode taking on jacob's role of "...ok anyway"ing julia's intro joke

[anders-hawke]

me and the devil’s so kristen-coded i could write a whole cliffhanger episode ending to it 😩😩

[doctapuella]

the only thing better than the delusional team of clark and dan is when the delusional team of clark and dan wins a title

[adelha-mathilde]

Continuation (2) of this puppy stampede and hair combing with @we-shall-remain​ here:

Americano ends up wandering into the bedroom for Adelha to lead both handsome angels to follow. The puppy crawling under the bed to hunt for socks or perhaps some wayward toys. Which has Adelha sigh to then sit Michelangelo at her writing desk. The lady soon sitting on the bed as David works at removing the leaf bits from her hair.

The mention of Absalom has Adelha still with visible astonishment. But she soon gives a long sigh of air to relax and let the tension of her spine ease. “I do so dearly hope this means that Absalom has had the chance to clear the air with all of the family here in Chaldea. What I remember of scripture conveys how tragic and complicated things became. Yet I would gladly welcome all of your children into my treasury and home, David. I just hope I have enough tea in the pantry.”

The pink robin continues to sing in his cage as Americano emerges from under the bed with a very chewed up spider plush doll. The doll done in scraps of yellow and blue cloth to look a bit worn out as Americano tosses the doll out the door to then chase after it. Adelha watching to openly chuckle as she stays seated for David to continue his ministrations. “I’m going to have to remake that doll when it finally comes apart at the seams. Perhaps we may have a day of all your children sitting with me to make more of those spider dolls. We might also make some playdough for Jack and Nursery Rhyme to play with.”

[badmovieihave]

Bad movie I have The Onion Field 1979

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

~all creatures great and small~ (amazing illustration by the awesome @david-talks-sw)

“And just what exactly is it that you’ve been doing?”

Obi-Wan had to stop himself from giving his fellow Councillor—and friend—a rather pronounced eyeroll. 

“You tell me,” he said without taking his eyes off his clamoring little herd, feeling rather proud of himself. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Mace came up to his side and crossed his arms, looking decidedly unimpressed. He looked at Obi-Wan, then at his rambunctious little friends and their merrymaking, then back at Obi-Wan again. 

“It looks like you have been avoiding meetings all morning.” 

Obi-Wan couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at his mouth. He carefully put his hands in his large sleeves.

“Have I?” He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop laughing if he saw Mace’s no doubt exasperated face, so he kept carefully looking onward. “You should have called me.”

“You know I did,” Mace griped, valiantly ignoring the racket and still boring holes in the side of Obi-Wan’s face.

If it came to a contest of wills, Obi-Wan knew he’d be hard pressed to match Mace’s stubbornness. He turned to face him, and inevitably let out a huffed chuckle. Mace looked annoyed alright, but he could do nothing about the twinkle in his deep eyes. 

“You,” Mace insisted, no doubt trying to maintain what he probably hoped to be a convincingly stern demeanor, “have spent all day corrupting our next generation instead of going over mission reports.”

“Really, Mace—”

A yellow blur careening between the two of them nearly knocked them off their feet. A beige, more bipedal one rushed right after it, bumping into them both with equal speed if not equal force. 

“Sorry Masters!” the youngling yelled over her shoulder without stopping. 

Obi-Wan had to cough into his fist to keep from cackling.

“Obi-Wan.” Mace said.

“She apologized,” Obi-Wan pointed out with a brilliant smile.

“You still haven’t.”

“What for?”

Mace’s control finally cracked, and he thrust an accusing finger at Obi-Wan’s innocent face, ready to give into a rare display of unrestrained aggravation. Obi-Wan quickly batted it away and beat him to the punch.

“It’s a perfectly good way of teaching the younglings patience and control!”

Mace blinked at him, his mouth left hanging open, his finger still up and now pointing somewhere over to the right. He turned slowly, and surveyed the bustling courtyard in bemusement. The half-dozen or so pufferpigs that Obi-Wan had let loose there were being corralled by three times as many eager younglings, clone cadets and Padawans, and the animals all felt entitled to express the full range of their feelings on the matter in a loud and enthusiastic fashion. Little Mari Amithest was still running after the particularly rowdy creature that had mistaken Obi-Wan and Mace for Rodian bowling pins. 

Mace’s eyebrows climbed to previously undiscovered heights. 

“What part of this,” he gestured incredulously, “is controlled?”

“None of the pigs have puffed yet,” Obi-Wan explained seriously. 

Mace’s eyebrows were now on their way into orbit. A moment passed. Then, his expression of astonishment seamlessly melted into curiosity.

“They haven’t?” he asked, considering the whole bunch with renewed interest. 

“I told you, it’s a proven method,” Obi-Wan insisted, vindicated. He pointed to the far corner of the courtyard, where Katooni was showing some of the younger children how to feed a happy looking unpuffed puffer. “My Padawan has taught that one to do tricks.”

The squealing puffer was hopping from one foot to the other before avidly sweeping treats from the children’s outstretched hands. 

Mace was now looking suitably impressed. More careful study of Mari’s chase was making it apparent that the animal she was after was not distressed in any way, but was—rather mischievously—trying to run off with her sash clutched in its stout trunk. 

“You shouldn’t let emotions cloud your perception,” Obi-Wan reminded him in a serious voice.

“Hm,” Mace conceded magnanimously, impervious to the teasing.

The twinkle of carefully contained amusement that had been present in his eyes from the start had won over all other sentiments. A wet snort had the two Masters look down at the adventurous pufferpig that had made its way over to them. The amicable beast was fixing them with soulful blue eyes, candidly inoffensive. Its stubby tail was wagging quite politely. Mace distractedly bent down to pet the expectant critter on its broad, squishy face.

“It wants to smell your lightsaber,” Obi-Wan warned. “They like crystals.”

Mace straightened and put a hand on his hilt.

“The Mining Guild didn’t pick them up yesterday?” he inquired. “That was on the agenda.”

Obi-Wan shrugged.

“They tried, but for some reason all the identity chips turned out to be unreadable. There’s no way to prove who these fellows belong to.”

Mace gave him a flat look. 

“Hondo stole them from a Republic transport.”

“There’s all sorts of things on Republic transports,” Obi-Wan reasonably pointed out.

“The transport was chartered by the Mining Guild.”

“Hondo wiped the manifest during his hijacking. There’s just no way to know.”

“Your Padawan was there to escort the Mining Guild representatives.”

“Some mysteries can never hope to be solved.”

The pufferpig had taken to bonking its head against their legs affectionately. Mace, bowing to the undeniable strength of Obi-Wan’s ironclad argumentation, very seriously gave the tenacious quadruped another pat.

“They’re not staying,” he reminded Obi-Wan firmly. 

“Obviously not,” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “The Temple would be a terrible environment for them.”

His friend narrowed his eyes suspiciously. 

“And you’re not making me spend my time finding them a place.”

“Honestly, Mace.” Obi-Wan gave the affable puffer a gentle shove, and it obediently trotted away to a nearby group of younglings and clone cadets who were already entertaining one of its siblings. Obi-Wan wiped his hands on his pants. “Naboo has very responsible educational farms.”

“Does it,” Mace said mildly. 

“Including a recently opened one in the Lake District.” 

Unashamedly petty enjoyment rang in the Force.

“Don’t come to me when Skywalker tries to send them back.”

“Who says I’ll pick up when he does?”

Obi-Wan loved Anakin, dearly. Still, he hadn’t yet quite forgiven his old Padawan for retiring—running away—before they could make him shoulder his share of the sacred responsibility of wrangling the Temple’s significantly increased youngling population. It was Luke and Leia’s birthday soon anyway. 

“You’re stooping to deviousness,” Mace said, carefully neutral.

Obi-Wan gave him a wry look. 

“Never. Revenge is not the Jedi way,” he said just as calmly. 

“It’s them you’re supposed to be teaching,” Mace said with a short nod towards the unruly bunch. “He’s had his turn.”

Speaking of teaching…

“Oh my,” Obi-Wan said smugly, pointing to a boy who had taken to carefully levitating a surprisingly compliant—if a little alarmed—pufferpig, “that wouldn’t happen to be Caleb, would it?”

His fellow Council member was now pinching the bridge of his nose, his other hand planted on his hip. 

“I must say, that young man is certainly very skilled at forming connections with animals. Depa must be very proud.”

“Just don’t,” Mace groaned. He whipped out his communicator. “He’s supposed to be meditating with Yoda right now.”

“That explains it,” Obi-Wan said. 

Master Yoda was slowly ambling into the courtyard, looking quite pleased with what he was seeing. He poked misbehaving younglings with his cane as he walked, chuckling to himself when they yelped and hastily reached with the Force to make sure the pufferpigs stayed relaxed. The pufferpigs themselves were only curious, and in a sufficiently playful mood that the younglings’ offended squeaking was not enough to agitate them. Caleb had set down his floating puffer with all possible speed—and great care—at the sight of the venerable elder, and made ample and readily accepted apologies to the perplexed animal in the form of scritches. 

Mace slowly put away his communicator. He pursed his lips. 

“Obi-Wan,” he said slowly, “next time, just have them practice making friends with the stray tookas.”

That’s how his master had done it, and Mace had never had any problems with connecting with animals, large and small. 

“Pufferpigs are much more even-tempered.”

It was all Mace could do not to facepalm. Giving up, he shot Obi-Wan one last dry look.

“Just do your damn paperwork.”

Obi-Wan watched him stride away, dignified and imposing. Of course, since he wasn’t exactly paying attention to his surroundings, with how focused he was on pretending he was above this whole situation, he didn’t notice Mari’s wayward puffer on a direct collision course with his legs. The poor creature, who hadn’t noticed Mace either, let out a terrified screech and promptly puffed. 

The entire courtyard froze, watching with fascination as the inflated pufferpig bounced twice and slowly rolled to a halt. It made a sorry little squeak.

Resignedly, Mace closed his eyes and set to work on gently calming down the pufferpig with the Force.

The children loudly cheered. 

[elminster-big-naturals]

(david attenbourgh crouching beside the worst bg3 take you have ever seen in your life) with enough time, media illiteracy, and over-exposure to the most inane parts of the fandom, the schism between canon text and fanon becomes so large that gamers start to fall in, and so the inevitable "actually this thing i love is irredeemable trash and evil and they're doing it ON PURPOSE to spite ME specifically!" doom spiral begins. it's a well documented phenomenon, known among seasoned rpg players as the 'dragon age effect'. sadly there is yet to be a cure for this affliction, and the rest of the fan ecosystem can only live in hope that the affected move on to their next source of ire before the entire herd suffers for it...

[sheawritesstuff]

Sam / Darlin Headcanons

[In no particular order]

✩ Sam has stretch marks on his hips and across his back from growing so fast after leaving Mont Blanc

✩ Darlin has a high pain tolerance so they literally don’t realize when they’re seriously injured sometimes

✩ Sam has a lot of faded scars on his hands

✩ Sam is the oldest brother, Darlin is a middle child - they both had to leave their younger siblings behind and still feel bad about it

✩ The younger pack members think Sam is the absolute coolest even though they don’t get to see him very often

✩ Sam still has David’s name saved as Mr. Shaw in his phone

✩ Since Sam convinced Darlin to start eating actual food they are BUILT - their muscles aren’t super lean and defined anymore, but they’re noticeably stronger

✩ Occasionally when they’re stressed Darlin will shift and lay directly on top of Sam like a wolf-shaped weighted blanket

✩ Sam hates the question “are you a tea or coffee person?” because people rarely accept his answer of “both”

✩ Darlin was very uneasy about any kind of physical touch after Quinn, especially skin-to-skin, so they almost exclusively wore clothes that covered their entire body for about a year - they feel safe enough to wear tank tops and shorts now

✩ Darlin likes holding both sides of Sam’s face when they kiss

✩ Sam pretends to be more oblivious to modern media than he really is 

✩ Before turning, Sam needed glasses - for a while afterwards he would still wear them out of habit

✩When shifted, Darlin is one of the biggest wolves in the pack

✩ When he was younger, Sam used to fight in shady arenas for some quick cash

✩ Darlin knows how to play bass

✩ Sam shaved his head after leaving Mont Blanc and after turning as his way of “starting his new life” - he keeps it fairly long now but makes an effort to keep it trimmed and maintained

✩ Darlin has convinced Sam to paint his nails with them at least once

✩ Sam looks like his dad but he has his mom’s eyes and her smile

✩ Sam dances like a tipsy suburban dad at a backyard barbecue

✩ Darlin has a habit of glaring like they’re about to murder the next person who enters their line of sight when they’re actually just thinking about what they want for dinner

✩ Sam was raised on a ranch so he knows how to ride horses, herd cattle, etc.

[probablyasocialecologist]

Most of the daily crimes against Palestinians on the West Bank take place only a few miles from the homes of Israeli citizens within the pre-1967 borders of the state. Particularly vicious events are sometimes reported, in relatively subdued and peripheral ways, in Haaretz, the only respectable newspaper in the country, and also, rarely, on the evening news that everyone watches. Still, even peace-oriented, left-wing Israelis often express shock when I tell them of witnessing violent attacks by settlers and soldiers on Palestinian shepherds and peasant farmers. It is as if that kind of knowledge were pushed away from conscious awareness, or as if the knowledge itself exists somewhere in the mind but knowledge of that knowledge does not. (Classical Indian logicians claim that one doesn’t know something unless one consciously knows that one knows it.) In short, much of the population of Israel has lived through the last five decades in varying modes and intensities of denial. Here’s a typical example. One night in late July I slept in the Bedouin village of Ras al-‘Ain in the southern Jordan Valley. Adjacent to the village, in a fiercely hot, arid zone, a cool, clean stream flows down from the hill country. The villagers need that water to survive and to sustain their herds of sheep and goats; each day they fill up five or six tankers, hitched to tractors, from the stream. Israeli settlers from the illegal outposts nearby are doing whatever they can, including committing vicious attacks, to block Palestinians’ access to the water; the goal is to dry them out so that they will have to leave their homes. The army, the police, the Civil Administration, and the military courts are all colluding with the settlers in their ongoing minibattle with the shepherds. Our activists are by the stream, night and day, to protect the Palestinians as best we can. We spent an hour or two that evening fending off knife-wielding, masked young thugs from the settler outposts who were trying to block a lone tractor and its attached tanker from bringing water to the village. Often Israeli settlers from the older settlements, who may be less prone to violence than those from the new outposts and are usually Orthodox, come to picnic by the stream. A friend of mine, a long-standing member of the Israeli peace camp and an Orthodox Jew—and thus adept in the settlers’ language—spoke to two of these middle-aged settlers about the situation in Ras al-‘Ain. “What?” they said. “You mean there is violence here? That’s impossible.” A total surprise—for people living in the heart of the West Bank, on stolen Palestinian land. I don’t think they were pretending to be shocked. Mainstream Israelis living in Tel Aviv or Jerusalem are even less likely to grasp the reality of systematic state violence directed against innocent Palestinians when news of it somehow filters into the public sphere. Simply stated, they don’t want to know, or maybe they don’t much care.

21 August 2024

[sunkendreams]

You’ve got me absolutely melting for David!!

How about him and something with edging, because he’s an asshole who would def love your needy frustration🥴

flesh for fantasy.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. | david (the lost boys) x fem!reader.

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓. | one-shot — requested.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. | 8.3K (not sorry!)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. | SMUT! (mdni), vampire antics, gore/violence (people die), very mild seduction/hypnosis, edging, rough sex (david is not gentle at all), missionary and from behind, biting, bloodplay (he’s a vampire), choking, hair-pulling, david is mean, blowjob, cunnilingus, dirty talk, pet names (kitten, sweetheart), clothes ripping, fingering, teasing, david is extremely possessive, begging, crying, etc. this fic is nasty & david is an asshole

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. | w h e w — here we are AGAIN. I promise that there will be a marko fic guys !!! I have so many lost boys projects going rn that the content is endless at this point! thank you so much for your support, requests, love, etc. I literally adore y’all so much you don’t understand :)) hope you guys enjoy!

David had become a fever that you couldn’t sweat out — your pale-headed, blue-eyed infatuation. Even in your moments spent alone, his voice rang within your head, echoing like the lull of a siren. His sly laughter, his smirk — they were embedded into your brain. It was almost like some fog had come over you, and he was the only thing on your mind, the only thing that you were permitted to think about.

After that night spent within the darkness of the boardwalk’s endless carnival, he wanted you to meet him at the beach, shrouded by the cover of dusk. It had become easier to fib to your mother about where you were going at night — it was always a rotation of excuses. Friends, a beach concert, or another group hangout.

Frilly, pastel-yellow fabric clung to your frame, a sundress that billowed in the cool, night breeze of Santa Carla. It was covered in a ditsy floral pattern, something sweet and a little innocuous. The boardwalk was always congested, crowded with waves of people that swarmed you wherever you went.

You hadn’t pinpointed exactly where you were supposed to meet David, so you joined the massive herd of people that were partying around the current concert. The noisy thrum of rock music floated through the air, and you blended in seamlessly with the rest of the crowd. He would find you eventually — he always did.

Even through the midst of music, you could still hear David, always buried somewhere within the recesses of your mind. You had no idea how you’d become so enamored with him and so quickly, but you didn’t want to go against the grain and fight your feelings. He was naturally charming and enticing — you assumed that you were just smitten and awestruck.

Someone bumped into you, prompting you to shift elsewhere, toward a wooden ledge that seemed less populated. You watched the concert with idle interest, flesh erupting with goosebumps as a gloved hand grabbed at your waist. You shivered, whirling around to find David’s smirking countenance.

He was close, wedged behind you with a devious grin, pressing a brief kiss against your neck. “Found you.” He chuckled, circling you like a predator would prey as he searched for your hand. “Were you hiding from me?” David inquired, wanting to tease you a little bit. You were always so flustered and smitten — it was difficult not to find enjoyment in it.

Your lips parted, skin crawling with heat as it licked across the column of your spine. As David took your hand, he began to lead you from the crowd and into the unoccupied, sandy shores. There was a spacious staircase that led back up from the boardwalk and a terrace above.

“Never,” You protested, and that was enough to earn you a laugh from David. It was ominous and enticing, like the encroaching darkness �� your curiosity was insatiable. You followed him as if you were in a trance, spotting the pack of ragtag motorcycles and the boys you’d encountered before. “Where are we going?”

David stopped midway atop the steps, guiding you forward until you were pressed against him. Your scent invaded his senses, thick and saccharine as that familiar pang of thirst scratched within his throat. He towered over you, brushing his thumb along the curve of your jawline. “Somewhere special.”

A brief laugh escaped you — he was going to keep you in the dark until you arrived. “Okay,” You hummed, gaze glued to his features as he playfully squeezed at your hip. His touch was incendiary, and you wanted to feel him anywhere and everywhere. “No hints?” You asked, listening to his sly chuckling.

“Not this time, sweetheart.” David mused, briefly nipping at your lower lip before coaxing you up the stairs again. You followed, rounding the grated bannister as he released your hand. The pack of boys were all waiting on their bikes, and the one you’d spoken to before, Paul, winked and waved at you.

You hesitated, poised along the edge of the walkway as David sauntered toward his bike, a dust-laden Triumph, taking a seat atop the vehicle as he revved the engine to life. He then peered toward you, expectant and unusually patient. Those crystalline, pale eyes shamelessly roamed across your body, drinking in the look of you in that sundress.

“Are you coming?” David asked, gesturing toward the empty space behind him. Even from the few feet of distance between you both, he listened to the excited, erratic beating of your heart. His lips twitched into a smirk, knowing that you’d go with him anyway.

“Not yet, she’s not.” Paul guffawed, releasing a series of wolfish whistles and howls. The other curly-headed blonde laughed along with him as the two smacked at one another.

David’s gaze narrowed slightly, but this sort of crass behavior was to be expected. He’d keep you safe. Finally, he extended his hand towards you, head cocked to one side. He was silent, enticing you through eyes and expression alone. Part of him wanted to utilize persuasion, but he thoroughly enjoyed whenever you chose him of your own free will.

The desire to leave the boardwalk behind for a night to spend it with David was much too tantalizing to ignore. Your feet shuffled forward, and you finally reached him, taking a hold of his hand. “I’ve never ridden one of these before.” You were a little concerned — motorcycles weren’t exactly the safest option.

Wordlessly, David coaxed you onto the seat behind him, craning to look over his shoulder at you. “Just hold on tight, kitten. I won’t let you fall.” He sneered, and to add fuel to the fire, he tilted backward, mouth sloppily landing against your plush, sweet lips. That devilish grin appeared again, prompting you to wrap your arms around his midsection.

As the bikes roared to life, David made sure that you were clinging on before spinning around within the patch of sand, making it fly across the boardwalk. He revved the engine, signaling for the rest to follow as they flew down a set of stairs, making you gasp and rock forward. David sped out onto the stretch of open beach, laughing and howling.

You hadn’t seen him like this — wild and carefree, screaming into the dead of night. David was often calculating and methodical, but you enjoyed seeing this other side of him, this primal, unrestrained edge he now possessed. The more he drove, the more comfortable you became, leaning up to get a better look of your surroundings.

As he drove toward the pier, you gasped, fingers twisting into his coat as he went straight through the wooden rafters underneath. Dangerous and daunting — but that pang of fear inevitably dissipated into excitement and sheer exhilaration. You glanced over your shoulder, watching the other boys close in behind you.

Santa Carla’s shoreline inevitably stretched into cliffsides and a wilderness of cypress trees and dirt, which is where David veered off into. Paul playfully wove his bike a little closer to you, letting out a series of whistles before David inevitably got bored of his antics, applying a barrage of pressure on the gas.

The night sky was uninhibited by clouds — it was endlessly clear, marked by a smattering of millions of stars and the silvery glow of a full moon. Forest dwindled the closer you got toward Hudson’s Bluff, waves crashing against the rock. Along the small patch of shoreline near the old lighthouse, there was a group of people partying around a small bonfire.

“Hold on.” David cautioned, swinging his bike around as he drove down a steeper incline. The bluff had an old, rocky dirt path that climbed down to the mouth of a cavern at the very bottom. It was surrounded by a mess of ‘DO NOT ENTER’ signs, barricades, and old paneling, now rotted from the ocean’s encroaching tides.

You rocked forward, colliding with his back as he made it towards the very bottom. It was a relatively wide patch of dirt and rock, where the rest of the pack promptly parked their motorcycles, draping tarps over them. The group surrounding the bonfire didn’t seem to pay any of you much attention at all.

David helped you off of the bike, grasping ahold of your hand as he motioned toward the dark entrance of the cave. The rest of the boys began to whoop and laugh as they barreled down the path inside of the cavern, torchlight diminishing as it left you and David alone outside of the cave.

He was bathed in moonlight — flesh unnaturally pale, eyes vibrant, hair turned to tresses of silver. His musculature pressed into your side, gloved palm calmly cupping your cheek. “Come with me,” He murmured, lips ghosting above the shell of your ear. “Be with me.” David’s voice had become sultry, and it almost held some sway and power over you.

A shudder rattled the length of your spine, goosebumps following suit as they coalesced across your body. David gingerly turned your face, forcing you to look up at him as he stroked his thumb against your chin. “Of course, David.” You were intrigued by what awaited you within that cave — you assumed that it was their hangout, a place to simply exist.

With a sly chuckle, he led you into the shadowed maw of the cavern, and you were launched into a place unlike any other. Dim torchlight illuminated your path as David coaxed you into their lair, where moonlight pooled onto a massive, stone fountain in the very center. It looked old — the architecture was dilapidated and crumbling, but it was all decorated with whatever they enjoyed.

Paul made himself at home, perched atop the edge of the fountain as Dwayne climbed up toward a nook carved into the rock, retrieving a case of what appeared to be alcohol. Marko came up to David, murmuring something in secrecy. Both pairs of eyes momentarily darted toward you, until David’s lips twitched into a smirk.

Marko gestured towards Paul, and the pair exited the cave, laughing and howling their way back out into the cool, oceanic dusk. You wondered what that was all about, but decided not to question it as David motioned to your newfound surroundings.

“This was the hottest resort in Santa Carla about eighty-five years ago,” David released your hand, idly sauntering around the central fountain as he prodded at the dangling fixtures of shells and bone. “They built it right along the faultline, and once the ground opened up?” He trailed off, rounding the stone until he made his way back to you. “Swallowed it whole. Now, it’s ours.”

You were intimately familiar with Santa Carla, but not enough to fully comprehend the immense amount of history lying around. You leaned over, sweeping your fingertips against the massive chandelier, rotting away within the basin of cave water. A wad of cobwebs stuck to your hand.

“It’s pretty. There’s so much to see here, too.” You chimed, peering toward the cavernous roof of the cave, where slats of moonlight pooled through, right into the center. “Where did the others go?” It was odd that they’d left so soon after just arriving.

David chuckled, knowing the gravity of the situation that you would soon find yourself caught within. If you weren’t exposed to them now, it would become increasingly difficult for him to suppress what he really was. “They went to get dinner.” He stated, which, in some twisted sense, was the truth.

With a brief laugh, you decided to pass off David’s statement as humorous, studying the intricate details of their home-away-from-home. You noticed the dangling sculptures made of animal bone, seashells, and various pieces of sea-glass. A massive banner of Jim Morrison hung on one of the rocky walls, another of Motley Crüe.

Vulnerability seeped from every pore, and David knew that he would have you — soon enough. He followed closely behind you, letting you explore as you pleased, wandering about the cave. You felt his hand press against the small of your back, gloved digits idly massaging into your curves, easy to feel beneath your sundress.

As you stepped toward a collection of chairs, you noticed one with a very high back, made of mahogany and velveteen cushions, layered in a fine sheen of dust. David moved around you, sitting down with a huff in that seat, head cocked to one side. “Don’t be shy.” He uttered, patting his thigh with a gloved palm.

Heat swept through you, crawling across your flesh as you hesitantly wandered toward David. You were a little nervous, considering that the boys were around, but he seemed entirely unbothered by this. He was smirking at you, patiently waiting until you lowered yourself into his lap, feeling him anchor an arm around your hips.

Your scent was intoxicating — heavy and warm, like the innocence of springtime. David absentmindedly licked his lower lip as he played a dangerous game, leaning in to press a kiss against your bare shoulder. Teeth momentarily grazed flesh, causing you to shudder as you made yourself comfortable.

Sounds of rancor and laughter reverberated throughout the cavern, prompting you to glance up at the rocky incline. Marko and Paul returned with two strangers — a younger couple who seemed intrigued by their surroundings.

Confusion flickered across your features, but you let it subside, assuming that they wanted to make it a party of-sorts. David held you close, practically pinning you against him as he idly caressed along your supple curves. He knew what was about to happen — your terror would come to a head.

“Wow! Look at this place, Con!” The girl echoed, hanging onto the arm of her boyfriend. They were your age, if not a little older, oblivious as to what was about to happen. Dwayne hopped down from the nook above, gaze bristling with a thinly-veiled hunger.

“Good choice.” David mused, grin becoming devilish and wrathful as he leaned forward within his chair. “I don’t think our guest will be very hungry. They’re all ours.” He assured, giving your hip a playful pat. He had no intention of turning you — not yet, anyway.

Paul and Marko began to snicker, with Marko cocking his head to one side before he gestured to you. “Off limits?” He’d ask, evoking a rather visceral response from David, whose eyes were akin to frozen pits full of ire and protectiveness.

“Yes.” David quipped, able to taste the bewilderment and confusion that dripped from you. It oozed from your pores — he could smell that surge of nervousness looming about you. It produced a peculiar pheromone that he could detect, something akin to uncertainty. You were something that he had no desire to share.

You belonged to him, now.

With a brief bout of laughter, your brows furrowed together. “Hungry?” You’d ask, unsure of why David was referring to food when there wasn’t a lick of it in-sight. The atmosphere began to shift — instinct and foresight told you to flee, but there you sat, glued to David’s lap like a good little human. He knew you’d stay.

Dwayne let out a thunderous growl, grabbing the man by the collar as he thrust him toward his knees as if he weighed nothing at all. His girlfriend yelped and squeaked, wriggling around as Paul and Marko sprang forward, keeping her restrained.

This felt wrong.

“David, wh — what’s going on?” With a strained tone of voice, it hopped up an octave, laced with fear. Anxiousness swirled within the pit of your stomach, and you shuffled within David’s lap, prompting him to press his digits into the swell of your hip.

You became uneasy, looking to David for something — protest, a command, anything. Instead, he was grinning like a cheshire cat, the apex predator, visage taking on some leer of amusement as he peered toward you. “I told you, sweetheart,” He began, pressing a kiss against your jaw. “Dinner.”

It was as if everything happened all at once, your world beginning to spin so fast that you very nearly fainted, but David was keen on keeping you safe. Dwayne’s hands would rend and tear into the man, razor-sharp incisors suddenly sinking into his jugular.

You watched with shock and horror as Paul and Marko bit into the throat and shoulder of the woman, callously tearing at her flesh, crimson spurting into the open air as it pooled around her clothing. They were laughing, akin to a pack of slavering hyenas as the girl went down into the sand-laden dirt.

Their faces transformed, no longer the boyish visages from before — they were glistening with a sweat-like sheen and wolfish, with eyes like the sun, a liquid-gold adorned in a red ring, like a halo. Fangs protruded from their canines, and the air began to smell pungent, thick with the coppery haze of blood.

You yelped, immediately attempting to scramble off of David’s lap, but he kept you pinned, now fueled with inhuman strength in the presence of prey. That dark, sly laughter of his rang within your mind and throughout the cave, and again, you tried to throw yourself onto the ground. You feared that you would be next.

“Easy, easy,” David purred, grabbing your hips as he crushed your back against his chest. “I’ll keep you safe.” He uttered, and as convincing as it sounded, a sliver of you didn’t want to believe him anymore. Then again, it was solemn — it lacked that coy, cajoling tone from before.

A pair of fangs scraped across your neck, threatening to break the skin, and you realized that it was David. Your throat felt too thick, even if you wanted nothing more than to scream. Finally, he released you, watching as you immediately fled in the opposite direction, sundress snagging on a rock.

David chuckled, gracefully pushing himself out of the chair as he sauntered toward the now-mangled body of the woman. He knew that you wouldn’t be going anywhere — he had very little to worry about. Marko and Dwayne were having their fill of the man, whose body was as limp as a ragdoll, flesh an ashen pallor.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sight of David sinking his fangs into the collarbone of the woman, drinking straight from the source as he and Paul drained her life away. You felt lightheaded, on the verge of collapsing as you tried to climb away, only to fall right back down into the dirt.

“David?” You croaked, attempting to push yourself up from the dirt, knees wobbling. The world felt as if it’d been turned upside-down, and you were simply along for the ride, dizzy and delirious. The four were in the midst of feeding, stained with red, glowering at you through the dim light of the cave.

As you stood upright, you began to sway, but before you could collapse and hit the ground, David caught you, mouth drenched in crimson. His tongue lashed across his fangs as he ogled you, letting out another chuckle. With a bow of his head, he kissed you, and you gasped when you tasted that swarming sting of blood.

With a swift and eager tongue, he lapped at the traces of scarlet left behind from his feeding, greedily hauling you in for another lewd, passionate kiss. He was surprised to find that you weren’t recoiling, hapless within his embrace as you let out a shrewd, agonzied whine. Even if what they’d done was terrifying, you still couldn’t keep yourself away from David.

You poor thing — scared to death, trembling within his arms. Without pause, he picked you up, cradling your warm body as he carried you toward his wing of the cave. He could sense that you were on the verge of passing out, and as soon as he’d placed you onto his bed, you fainted.

Be with me.

A strangled gasp tore past your lips as your eyes shot open, swiftly surveying your surroundings. Your heart began to beat erratically, threatening to rip free from your collarbone. David’s voice was still reverberating within your mind — the screams had drowned out from the cave, leaving you with the distant lull of Billy Idol and the cavern’s ambiance.

You were swaddled in a thin shawl, made of white silk and embroidered with silver stitching. The mattress you were strewn across smelled like spiced cigarettes, cologne, and that familiar twang of copper. You traced your fingers across the ages-old, ruffled blanket. Clearly, this bed was barely used.

“You’re awake,” David murmured, perched by the foot of the bed within the blink of an eye. His vampiric features had dwindled, leaving the man you’d become infatuated with standing there, icy hues and all. “I wondered if it would be too much for you.” For a moment, he worried that they’d scared you into a comatose state. “Now you know what we are.”

Admittedly, part of you was enticed and intrigued by what he was. It was hard not to be. “You’re not going to do that to me, are you?” You pondered aloud, shuddering when his countenance contorted into a look of agitation and disdain.

“No,” His voice was sharp, like the edge of a blade. “I’ve never wanted to hurt you, sweetheart. Though,” David’s lips twitched into a faint smirk. “I do enjoy your taste.” He’d tasted your blood on multiple occasions — it was sweeter than anything he’d savored before.

You were his forbidden fruit.

Heat crept through you, and you knew that you shouldn’t have been so calm about this, but it was still David — nothing changed about him. Your feelings certainly hadn’t diminished, either. You felt his gloved palm cup the curve of your jaw, thumb tracing over your cheek. “What — What are you?” You asked.

Your question lacked malice or anything accusatory. In fact, it was nearly a whisper, soft as could be as he pulled you up and against his chest. David chuckled when you shivered in his grasp, especially when he flicked a single digit over the strap of your sundress.

“A creature of the night,” He could smell the sudden pang of arousal that struck between your thighs, savoring that scintillating aroma. It made him want to tear you apart — make you scream for him. “Something that you should be terrified of.” David huffed, holding your chin in-place.

When he touched you, it only made that yearning grow tenfold, opening the way for desire to fester through you like a raging fire. You careened into his embrace, unable to pry yourself away from him. David was dangerous, but he wasn’t terrifying — he was still the same. “It won’t change how I feel.” You mumbled.

David’s eyes became bright, ignited with a sudden fire and glittering desire. “Is that so?” He purred, lips curling into a wolfish grin. “How do you feel, kitten?” His voice was a borderline snarl as he grabbed at your hips, hard enough to leave behind bruise-like imprints.

A soft, stuttering exhale escaped you as you leaned up upon your toes, pressing your lips to his. The gesture was unusually soft, but it swiftly turned into something salacious. David held you tightly, gloved digits beginning to curl into the fabric of your sundress. It was all tongue, teeth, and sheer want as he nipped at your lower lip.

He dragged you with him, using the rocky wall of the cave as his perch, mouth still fixed to yours. He tasted like the bitter bite of copper, something that you would inevitably grow accustomed to. His grip became unnaturally ironclad, clinging to you with a firm grip as he tugged at your dress. A noise skin to stitches being ripped filled the air.

“You don’t mind, do you?” David chuckled, causing your breath to hitch within your throat. With a forceful tug, he rucked your dress into a state of dishevel, ripping one of the thin, cloth straps in the process. A growl emanated from deep within his chest as he stepped back, sinking down into an old, velvet chair.

Goosebumps gathered along the nape of your neck, sending an excitable chill across your flesh as you stood in front of him, between his legs. “I want you,” You whined, desperate for him even after everything you’d witnessed. Did it make you depraved for still desiring him? Sick, perhaps? You weren’t sure. “David, please.”

Precocious, furtive laughter escaped David — he knew exactly what he wanted from you. “I’ve got something you can have, sweetheart.” He uttered, icy hues flickering over your body, shamelessly admiring your curves. That sundress flattered your frame — a shame that he was about to tear it to shreds.

Wordlessly, David coaxed you onto your knees, completely at his mercy as you swallowed the growing lump within your throat. He trailed a hand across your jaw, squeezing on either side as he splayed his legs apart, lounging in the chair with some domineering edge. His lips curled into a devious grin.

You knew what he wanted — it wasn’t hard to tell. With a shiver of anticipation, your hands moved toward his waist, slipping underneath the coat and hem of his sweater. “Aren’t you going to take anything off?” You’d ask, voice innocuous and sweet as you fumbled with his belt, attempting to quell your nerves.

“No,” David mused, watching you with hungry eyes. “You’ll have to use your imagination.” With a liquid-smooth, alluring tone, he let you go at your own pace — which was undeniably sluggish. Your mind was racing, a tangled web of lascivious thoughts that made him sneer.

A soft huff escaped you, but you continued, loosening up those leather pants of his with nimble digits. Nervousness swelled within the pit of your stomach, afraid of disappointing David with your inexperience. A hiccup rippled through your throat as his erection fell against his clothed thigh.

In an attempt to soothe your nerves, David trailed his gloved fingers throughout your tresses, caressing your scalp. “So pretty,” He purred, smirking when he could smell that pang of arousal pooling between your legs. “Go on, kitten.” He encouraged, thumb sweeping over your lower lip.

His hand cradled the base of your skull, strong enough to crush you in one fell swoop if he chose. Instead, those digits idly massaged into your hair, tensing into the formation of a grip as your palm closed around his cock. You stroked him off with a few slower pumps, absentmindedly wetting your lower lip.

David began to read your mind, raking through every thought that manifested. A low growl reverberated from the back of his throat as you opened your mouth, cock flat atop your tongue as you began to suck him off. You were sweet about it — with those doe-like eyes and uncertain hands.

As you bobbed your head back and forth, creating a little rhythm for yourself, David guided you with one hand, the other clutching at the mahogany arm of the chair. It was steadily splintering underneath his ironclad grasp. “Good girl.” He purred, a husky sound escaping him as he pushed his hips forward.

Watching you suck his cock was mesmerizing — in a rather crass way. He exuded control over you, crystalline eyes drinking you in as you hollowed your cheeks with certain strokes, tongue lapping at the swollen head. Pearls of precum oozed from his length and into your maw, and you tried your best to maintain your composure.

Heat burned right through you, consuming your body like the crash of a tidal wave as you pressed your thighs together. No amount of smothering the warmth would mask your smell. You brought your head back, sliding back and forth along his cock, tongue flicking along the underside of his length.

A grunt escaped him as you pressed forward, hands hesitantly perching atop his thighs, to which David tilted forward once again. Your lips felt incredible, but more importantly, you were enjoying yourself, too. That initial sting of anxiousness melted away, feeling David’s hand twist into your tresses.

You took more of his length into your mouth, becoming a little bolder as you sucked and licked wherever possible. David wasn’t loud — his volume was all restrained, manifesting in the forms of rumbling grunts or brief, husky sighs of pleasure. Your nails dug into his leather-clad legs, shuddering when he let out a snarl.

With another jolt of his hips, you nearly recoiled when the first rope of hot seed landed upon your tongue. You hastily swallowed, but David had different intentions, ripping you off of his cock as he painted your poor chest and clothes with his seed. It was deliberate, and you could see the pearlescent gleam of his wolfish grin as he came.

“Sorry for the mess,” His apology was sardonic, spoken through his sultry lull as he wiped away a tendril of drool from the corner of your mouth. “You look pretty like that.” David sighed, icy-blue hues flashing with a momentary spark of gold. You were sweet enough to buckle him back up, too.

With a chuckle, he watched with amusement as you sheepishly cleaned yourself up, flesh crawling with warmth as his hands locked around your hips again. “David,” You sighed with passion, feeling his face press into your stomach. He could smell you — it was overwhelming. “Need you.”

Another low, sharp growl escaped him as he clawed at your dress, causing the fabric to tear, stitches coming apart at the seams. “My turn.” He uttered, and in one swift movement, he had you pinned on the bed, crawling down until his scruffy visage was nestled between your legs. He sighed, fighting off the urge to tear into you.

A strangled gasp tore past your lips, stomach erupting with butterflies as your vampiric paramour knelt between your legs, pressing a string of greedy kisses along your thighs. The burn of his beard was beyond pleasant, keeping you grounded as his hand snatched at your sundress.

“You were made for me,” David hissed, tone raging with possessiveness and a borderline obsession. There was a fire within his eyes that you hadn’t seen before, and you were now a witness to his strength as he tore your dress asunder. The fabric was ripped away entirely, leaving you in your frilly brassiere and panties. “Mine.”

Again, he continued on his warpath, letting out a delightful chuckle as he ripped your panties off, too. Your eyes flew open, watching as he tossed the now-destroyed remnants aside. David removed his gloves for this, allowing his icy flesh to melt against your warmth.

“David, I—“ You shivered when his teeth grazed along your inner thigh, able to spot those fangs of his. They were as sharp as razors, teasing your soft, fragile flesh. You wondered if he was going to turn you — if he truly wanted to, he would’ve done it at the boardwalk. “Are you going to …”

“Not yet,” David intercepted you, making it clear that your thoughts were no longer safe. He invaded your mind, and it was so very enjoyable. Your fantasies laid bare, stripped to the bone, all belonging to him. He leaned in, cold palm resting just above your breast, able to feel the erratic beating of your human heart. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” He uttered, pressing a kiss along your knee. “To be mine — forever?”

There was something enthralling about the way he spoke to you — perhaps it was his voice or the piercing, calculating stare he gave you. You wanted nothing more than to become his, to feast in this supposed immortality, but you wanted to enjoy humanity for a little while longer. “Yes,” You whispered, reaching for his hand. “I’m yours.” It was an unspoken promise.

His fangs disappeared, but his grin did not, still present as he began to kiss along your leg once more. David kept quiet, gaze burning with lust as he nipped at your thigh, and then bit down. No fangs — just teeth. A little yelp escaped you, and he began to lap at the newly-formed bite mark, which would certainly leave a bruise.

He stooped lower, body nearly flat against the rickety mattress as he inhaled your scent. It only served to spur him on as another growl rippled through him. “Aren’t you going to use your manners?” David mused, tormenting you again with his teasing, but you weren’t above begging. He pinned your writhing hips down with one hand.

“Please,” You babbled, a strangled whine escaping you as David’s tongue briefly flicked across your slit. “Please David, please!” It was the worst form of torture, but you hoped he would continue, hands clamoring as you clutched onto the sheet in fistfuls.

“That’s better.” With another sharp nip against your soft flesh, he immediately went to work, dragging his tongue along your wet cunt. He was vigorous, passionate — you almost expected him to tease you, but you were pleasantly surprised. He gripped your thigh, keeping an arm hooked underneath for leverage.

Warmth pooled between your thighs, manifesting in the form of arousal. David was more than pleased to lap it all up, throat vibrating with an occasional grunt or growl as he flicked his tongue across your clit. One hand would snake down to assist, fingers working in-tandem to stroke at your cunt, intending on working you open.

Your back arched slightly, a myriad of moans leaving your parted lips as David touched you. His mouth was mesmerizing, dutifully lapping along the length of your cunt, taking a particular interest in your clit. When his lips pursed around that bundle of nerves, you nearly cried out, legs wobbling.

His tongue raked hot embers across your cunt, causing you to tremble and quiver, hips attempting to jolt forward again. You could practically feel David’s smirk as he buried his face between your thighs, beard scratching something ragged against your silky flesh.

Another moan left you when he began to suck on your clit, adding that little graze of his teeth. Your flesh felt so sensitive, crawling with goosebumps as David began to curl his fingers just slightly, making you whimper and twitch, legs accidentally pushing against his head.

David found enjoyment in making your writhe and squirm, your saccharine scent swimming around him like a thick fog. He could tell that you hadn’t done this before, judging from your constant whimpering and canting your hips forward. Nails buried themselves into your thigh, leaving behind angry impressions as he sunk two digits into your cunt, listening to you gasp.

A thin layer of dewy perspiration broke out along your flesh, provided by the continuous wave of heat drifting between the both of you. David was cold, like the bitter sting of winter as he soothed your feverish heat. “David!” You whined, cunt clenching around his digits as he pistoned them in and out of you.

All tact had dissipated as he began to submit to feral urges, another snarl rippling within his throat. His body shook from the noise, poised and leaning into you as he raked his tongue over your cunt. David’s hands kept you locked into place as he suckled on your clit again, causing you to cling to the sheets.

“David, m’close,” You huffed, eyes fluttering shut as you reclined on the mattress, allowing yourself to sink inward, hips occasionally attempting to twitch and jolt forward. As your head lolled to one side, your half-lidded stare drifted toward David, whose eyes were unnaturally vibrant — two liquid pools of gold. “David.”

His mouth worked with an unrestrained ardor, interlaced with a sinful hunger. Of course, he longed for your body just as much as he desired those sanguine rivers that pumped through your veins. With another purse of his lips and flick of his tongue, you were trapped within the throes of bliss.

Pleasure unfurled from the pit of your stomach, bristling through your body as it devoured you whole. You swore that you saw stars as a white-hot wave struck you again and again. David’s muffled laughter reverberated from between your thighs, prompting him to trace his tongue over your cunt again.

“David!” You moaned, feeling as if you were set ablaze, hips bucking off the bed just a little bit. Your orgasm ripped through you, sending shivers down your spine as you recovered. You tasted divine, able to hear his cacophony of soft grunts as he lifted his head, tongue lashing across his lower lip.

At last, he withdrew, dragging those sharp fangs across the inside of your thigh. A singular pearl of blood blossomed across your flesh, prompting David to swipe at it with an inhuman haste. His hands languidly groped and caressed along your haunches, yanking you toward the edge of the bed.

David stood between your legs, dark and towering like a pale-headed shadow, eclipsing all light from your view. The sight of you, blissed-out with a wet mess between your legs and a heaving chest was enchanting. Even he felt that rush of arousal as it all came crashing in again. Silently, he gestured toward his belt, waiting for you to come down from your climax.

With a soft huff, you sat up on your elbows, hands fumbling with his belt and leather pants again. You nearly jumped out of your own flesh when he grabbed your neck, dragging you in for a heated, messy kiss. David had little desire to be rough with you — this time, at least. He allowed his tongue to momentarily clash with yours, freeing his cock as he pressed closer.

“You ready, sweetheart?” David uttered, sluggishly pushing the head of his cock against your slick cunt, beginning to test the waters. His lips twitched into a devious smirk, filled with a twinge of desperation as he grabbed at either of your thighs.

You nodded, chewing at the inside of your cheek. A sloshing warmth filled the pit of your stomach as he pushed his cock inside of you, deliberately feeding you every inch of his length until he was buried at the base. You were tight, lips parting as a strangled moan escaped you.

A low growl ripped through David’s throat, feeling your sweet cunt clench pathetically around him. Sharp nails briefly dug into the pliant flesh of your hips as he thrust forward, causing you to gasp. He wasn’t exactly gentle, but his restraint was borderline, ready to crack and splinter at any moment.

His longing, whilst initially subdued, was now on full display. David’s eyes glistened like a feral animal, countenance contorted into an expression of need and desire, hips snapping forward as he began to bury his cock inside of you. You whimpered, legs threatening to slip around his waist.

“David,” You huffed, nearly squeaking when he stooped over, much closer to you. Any tact and sensuality dissipated as David began to rut into you, cock pistoning in and out of your tight cunt. His rhythm was swift and all-consuming as he held your hip with an iron grip, fingers leaving behind bruises. “Feels so good.” Your voice escaped you in a garbled slur.

Your hands fluttered from the sheets to him, gliding against his chest as they slipped upward, grabbing fistfuls of those platinum-blonde tresses. A grunt left him as heat blistered between the both of you, more from you than from him. Fire would meet ice as he pressed close, nipping at your lower lip as you urged him in for a kiss.

There was something primal and hungry about his kiss, as if he’d been completely starved of all contact. It was teeth and tongue colliding as he roughly gained entry into your mouth, teeth scraping across your lower lip, growling into your mouth. His pace seemed to match that sensation, brutal and unrelenting as he hammered away at your poor cunt with no sign of slowing down.

The contact was short-lived as David brusquely jerked backward, pulling his cock out of you. That emptiness made you whimper, desperate for him to continue — and he intended to, but in a different way. He turned you over, manhandling you onto your stomach as he grabbed your hips, shoving his cock back into you.

His cajoling laughter reverberated throughout the alcove, making your mind go fuzzy as he fucked you within an inch of your life. You felt David’s hand tangle into your hair, pulling at the roots with a firm grip. Another hapless whine left you, cunt clenching pathetically around his cock as he filled you to the brim, thrusts becoming a little more animalistic.

“David!” You cried, no longer able to see your vampiric paramour, but you could feel him. Even with your eyes closed, his voice reverberated throughout your mind, burnished-gold hues emblazoned into your brain like a hot brand. He fucked you senseless, chest bursting with a cacophony of growls and snarls.

It was almost overwhelming — your poor cunt was being pounded away at by David, who was eager to release for a second time. Your climax would be secondary, if he was feeling generous. You clawed at the sheets, grabbing it in fistfuls, hips pushing backwards into him. His fingers were so forceful, leaving behind angry imprints on your flesh.

You were desperate, body convulsing with pleasant spasms, legs struggling to keep yourself propped up. It all felt as if you were turning to mush, crawling with heat as David bit at your shoulder. He didn’t want to keep holding himself back, using your hair to roughly tug you backward. The firm musculature of his chest pressed into your back.

“You belong to me,” David snarled, sharp teeth mere centimeters away from the shell of your ear. They danced along your neck, hovering above your pulse point. It would’ve only taken one bite — he didn’t want to lose you so quickly. A turbulent wildfire of possessiveness surged inside of him, violent as ever as one of his palms clasped at your neck. “Say it!” He sneered.

A shiver passed through your body, lips parting as a myriad of needy, noisy moans escaped you. David forcefully parted your legs with one knee, grunting into your ear. The sounds were delicious — terrifying when you realized what he was. You could barely form the words, clutching onto his forearm.

David’s abrasive behavior might’ve been off-putting to many — but not to you. Deep down, it aroused you to no end, producing another wave of molten liquid within the pit of your belly, oozing between your thighs. “Going silent on me, kitten?” He chuckled, nipping at the sensitive flesh just beside your jugular. “Where’s that pretty voice of yours?”

Another whine tore past your parted lips as you sucked in a sharp breath, nearly crying out when his cock slapped away at your cunt. Any semblance of compassion had been exchanged for roughness and pure lust, as if you were a plaything for David. “I—I belong to you,” You slurred, attempting to move your hips in-tandem. “David, please!”

There would be no divide between you and David, no more distance. He’d keep you here in the cave, his precious mate, and when he felt like you were deserving of it, he’d make you like him — immortal, eternally trapped within a state of youth. You surrendered yourself completely, feeling him drive his cock into you again until he could go no further.

You were chasing after every sensation, set ablaze in the fire of David’s insatiable desire, gasping when his hand squeezed around your throat. The pressure caused you to shudder, cunt clenching around his length as you sought your release. When you sneakily attempted to shove your hand between your legs, he stopped entirely.

“What do we have here?” David admonished you, clicking his tongue with a mocking hint of disdain. “Trying to speed things up?” You felt cold, almost a little delirious as he simply dropped you onto the mattress, pulling himself from you. “If you’re so desperate, you can finish yourself, kitten.” He sneered, eyes a burnished amber, nearly a golden-red.

“Wh—Wait!” Being denied so close to your climax made you feel clammy, as if every wisp of air had been ripped from your throat. “D—David, I’m sorry! Please keep going!” You didn’t think he was serious, watching him stand at the foot of the bed, towering over you with a rather sardonic expression, full of rebuke.

“If you want to cum, you’ll have to beg.” David clicked his tongue, grabbing at your legs as he pulled you close again. “Why should I let you after that little stunt? Not good enough for you?” His voice surged with agitation, and you couldn’t discern if it was genuine or fabricated to fit his lust and appetite.

You nearly sobbed when he brushed his thumb over your clit, so feather-light that you wouldn’t have felt it if it weren’t for your constant squirming. “David, I — Please fuck me, please keep fucking me,” You babbled, tears stinging your eyes. The denial blistered through you, coupled with your own desperation to continue. He’d fucked you so good — it’d ruin you to stop now. “P—Please!”

David smirked, gazing down at you with a look of faux pity and want. Of course, he had no desire to simply abandon you here and now — but it was fun to play with you, poke and prod for a reaction. “You’re lucky, sweetheart.” He crooned, digits deliberately sliding across your clit again, causing you to let out a noisy whine.

“Please fuck me, please,” Your stammered, stumbling over your words as a coo of delight left you. “David, I need you.” With a trembling exhale, you continued to murmur something about wanting him. His laughter floated above your head, sinking into your very bones.

“Good girl.” David’s praise was spoken upon a silver tongue and dark eyes as he hastily shoved his cock back into your tight cunt, resuming the brutal pace he’d set before. You were on your back again, hapless beneath him as he railed you into a blissful oblivion.

He exuded dominance — he exuded a calculating control that you bent to, so very easily. David’s brow furrowed, countenance drawn into a look of rapture. He would never admit it, but he was thoroughly enamored with you, be it your sweet demeanor, your body, or your blood. Each thrust hit you hard, making you see stars.

One hand clutched the meat of your thigh, the other wrapped snugly underneath your throat, wedged against your jaw. He fucked you at a near-inhuman pace, rough and needy, causing you to part your legs just a little further for him. You huffed, a mess of moans and whimpers; his snarl was a familiar one.

David grunted, letting out a bestial hiss as he reached his peak, allowing himself to cum inside of you for a second or two, but that was painfully short-lived. His cock fell onto your stomach, painting your abdomen and breasts in ropes of hot, sticky seed. You shouldn’t have been so surprised — he got off on it.

His pearlescent grin glinted within the flickering candlelight as you came soon after, thanks to that generous caressing of his thumb pressing into your clit. You were spent, body spasming and quivering as you reached your peak, orgasm just as insanity-inducing as the last.

Warmth cascaded through you, goosebumps coalescing down the length of your spine when David caressed your jaw. He was stroking your silky flesh, head slightly cocked to one side as he watched you ride out your orgasm. You had gotten a little embarrassed, but he thought very little of it, peering towards the tattered remnants of your clothes.

“You’ll need something to wear.” David hummed, briefly correcting his attire as he found one of the many articles of clothing he’d collected in his immortal lifetime. It was a mahogany-hued sweater, something he lacked any attachment to, but you’d have his scent. He tossed it toward you, letting it land next to your head.

His callous behavior afterward was certainly something you’d have to get used to, but you decided to play one of the cards you had up your sleeve. “David,” You murmured, reaching for the ruined scraps of your dress to clean his cum off of you. “Come here?”

David paused, wondering if you were expecting a little tender, loving care afterwards. If that was what you wanted, it was best if you asked Paul or Dwayne. He decided to indulge you, stepping closer until he was back at your side again.

Wordlessly, you stood up, now shrouded in his sweater, which seemed entirely too big for you. He thoroughly reveled in that — your scent intermingled with his. It was a way to keep you close, now that you belonged to him. You rocked up onto your toes to kiss him, something that he reciprocated.

He felt your lips quirk into the ghost of a smile before you crawled back onto his mattress, both physically and mentally exhausted. David’s tongue swept across his teeth as he watched you lay down, and instead of leaving entirely, he turned, taking up residence in the rickety, velvet-cushioned chair he’d been in earlier.

As he struck his lighter, David placed the cigarette between his lips, ogling you across the way. It was difficult not to be a little soft on you — though, if you were to become an immortal, you had so much more to go. Initiation was far from over, but for now, he let you rest. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” He exhaled, tone saturated with an edge of mockery.

As sleep claimed you, your dreams were only filled with him — and that distant scent of blood.

[daveyscheezitz]

♤My personal David HCs♤

And Angel ofc

- He's 6'7ft or 200cm

- His mother was Peruvian while Gabe was American.

- Although he looks a lot like his father, most of his physique came from his mother's side.

- His eyes are a hazel, but depending on the light, his eye color looks like it changes to either green or brown.

- When they were really young, both David and Asher thought he had super powers other than his shifting until Gabe told them the truth.

- His great grandfather (moms side) was Samoan, but his genes skipped a couple of generations until they reached David, making him turn out huge.

- He's surpassed both Asher and Gabe in height.

- He has a small scar over his lip. He fell off a tree face first.

- A lot of people try to flirt with him while on the job, but he ignores them. Asher likes stepping in and pretending he's David's boyfriend until the person leaves.

- "Another relationship saved, don't ya think David?" "Shut up, Ash."

- Him and Asher have a "Wolverine & Deadpool" friendship.

- Unironically listens to kpop girl groups from time to time. Especially Twice and Red Velvet.

- Will take it to the grave before anyone finds out, especially Asher and Angel.

-They know but they want to catch him in the act.

- He genuinely enjoys musicals. His favorites are Hairspray and Epic.

- Loves playing video games and is definitely the type to scream at a game yet continue playing it. *ahem* Overwatch & COD

- If Angel likes Legos, he'll tell them not to waste so much money on those things ... then proceeds to buy them the Colosseum ... and a set of small flowers.

- He's rich >:]

- He drives a F250 but has a 1990 corvette that him and his dad fixed up in the garage. It was his first car and a way for Gabe to teach him how to fix a car.

- Phonk & Rock>>

- Has black hair and a couple gray hairs (We love silver foxes)

- He has bright gold eyes in his wolf form, but his fur is completely black

- Although they've been together 6 years, The mall wasn't the first place they've seen each other. While Angel was in their last year of college, one of the pack members was in the cheer squad and they came to support her while Angel was in (band dance cheer wtv u want) that was the first time they saw each other but other than a comment from Asher that Angel was cute, they didn't actually talk.

- He's actually really good at dancing but doesn't like to do it. The only reason he'll dance is if Angel begs him, and even at that, it's only limited to slow dancing.

•These next Hcs are about mostly my Angel OC so if you're not interested you can skip these•

- Angel was raised in a wealthy family and owns a ranch that their father tends to. All future Solstice parties hosted by David and Angel take place there due to the large house and even bigger land area. (As long as they don't eat the animals)

- (i refuse to believe Angel and Babee are useless) Angel and Babee both are childhood friends who served in the military together. Angel is a sergeant with good sniper skills and Babee was a demolitionist.

- Angel owns quite a few dogs. Most are herding dogs for the animals in her ranch, but 2 of them are her pets. A Rottweiler and a Chihuahua that David gets jealous of sometimes.

•Okay done•

- (This 1 is quite sad. Tw: mentions of death) David is fluent in spanish because Gabe didn't want him to forget about his Peruvian heritage after his mom passed away, so while he was young, he did his best to take David to Peruvian style restaurant and events. Gabe even traveled all the way to Peru so David could visit his grandparents, who he adored.

- Loves spicy food.

- His favorite dog breed is a Caucasian Shepard or a Calupoh.

- His love languages are Acts of Service or Gift giving.

- After he proposed to Angel or after they were married, if anyone tried flirting with him, he would flash is wedding ring before silently walking away.

- Angel is not allowed to cook, and if they are, it's either to make noodles. Their ramen is so good, even beating David's.

- David's name on Angels phone is "Pookie Wookie 🐺" Angels' name of David's phone is their actual name. ex. "Alex," "Jackson," "Monica," but Angel changed it to "Beautiful Gorgeous🧍" He didn't care enough to change it.

- He got so jealous of the name Asher put for his number on Angels phone "Ashy Baby," but Angel was the one he punished (no walking for you tmr)

I got no more tysm <3

[unreliablesnake]

Untitled. Part two.

[part 1]

Summary: The team finds out about Deacon and his girlfriend.

Note: Reader is a fashion model in her twenties. Deacon and Annie only have three kids. // I'm gonna write such short pieces about them because why not.

Warning: age gap, afab!reader.

You decided to bring a bunch of donuts to the station, strictly for the members of 20-David. Of course, knowing them, they would share it with the others, but you didn’t mind. It only proved how kind all of them were, looking out for every S.W.A.T. member there, even if they were on a different team. Chris led you and the delivery guy to the kitchen as secretly as she could, giving you the chance to talk alone before alerting the others about the gift. 

“So what’s this about?” she asked as she pointed at the boxes. 

A small laugh left your lips as you looked at your hand for a moment. “Deac’s been a little tense lately, I assumed you guys went through something rough he doesn’t want to tell me about. I mean, it’s okay, he will talk when he’s ready to share these things with me, but until then I just wanted to cheer him up.”

She rested her elbows on the table, then placed her chin on her hands as she watched you. “And if the team asks? Because they don’t know about the two of you, I doubt you want to reveal it now.” You shrugged, but the look on your face probably gave away that she would be your excuse. “All right, I’m the one having a bad week. But you owe me one for this. Maybe you should take me to a photoshoot or fashion show abroad. Just an idea,” Chris said with a wink. 

“Deal.”

When she glanced over at your shoulder, you knew you weren’t alone anymore. And sure enough, not two seconds later you felt a hand on your shoulder for a moment as this person walked past you. “What do we owe the pleasure of having you here? And I guess these are from you,” Street added as he reached out to open a box, but Chris was quick to slap his hand to stop him. “Hey, I only wanted to take one.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, right. You take one, I leave the room to tell the others, and by the time I get back, an entire box is missing,” she explained in a semi-real grumpy tone that made you laugh. 

You patted the chair on your right to make him sit down, while Chris stood up and left to herd the rest of the team into the kitchen. Until they got back, you got lost in a conversation with Street and answered every question of his about a recent job of yours and a few more about a model that he followed on Instagram.

Hondo, Luca and Deacon showed up a few minutes later, and your boyfriend chose to stand across from you by the other side of the table, the small smile on his lips giving away that he was happy to see you. You explained that Chris had seemed a little off lately and you thought the whole team might need something to bring back the good mood. 

This little group of yours began a cheerful conversation while eating some of the donuts, but at one point Luca stopped everyone and asked you, “What was that look?” You gave him a questioning look, having no idea what he was referring to. He pointed at Deacon then began to explain what he saw. “I saw that look you two exchanged. You're hiding something.”

“Yeah, Luca’s right,” Street chimed in. “And it's not the first time he noticed something like this. Remember when you said he was looking at her for a little too long the last time she was here?” 

Luca playfully punched his arm to shut him up, but by now it was too late. Hondo glanced over at Deacon with a mysterious smile, while Chris’ eyes were fixed on you. You didn't know which one of you was supposed to say anything, if you even had to say anything. But these people were his second family, your secret would be safe here.

“We… are… seeing each other,” Deacon said after a while, his brown eyes falling on you as if he was expecting you to get mad at him for telling them the truth. So you nodded with a smile to assure him it was okay. “For four months now, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah, something like that.” It was Hondo who asked about the kids, bringing up a topic you still weren't ready to talk about. “I haven't met them yet. It takes time, I don't want to rush things.”

Your boyfriend nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. “But I've been prepping them for the meeting. They know there's a woman in my life who I love and they can't wait to meet her,” he said with a smile.

“Pay up,” Luca told Street with his hand held out. Upon seeing the confused look on your faces, he flashed a wide smile at the team. “I told him there’s something going on here, but he said I’m just imagining things.” He took the money from his roommate, then walked over to Deacon to pull him into a quick hug. “I’m happy for you. You deserve to be happy.”

A small smile crept on your lips when you saw your boyfriend’s reaction. He knew what Luca was referring to, and you were happy his closest friends were supportive. To be honest, until this moment, you weren’t sure if he had really been happier lately or if it was just your imagination telling you that you made him happy. But if they saw it too, it must have been true. 

When Deacon's eyes landed on you, he flashed a smile at you, one you returned without hesitation. You were head over heels for this man, and you thought maybe it was time to put some real effort into this relationship. You slid off your chair and walked over to him, taking his hand without thinking as you looked up at him.

“When's the next time you have the kids over?”

At first he looked confused, but once he caught your drift, he said, “This weekend. Does this mean you're willing to do this?” You nodded and he leaned down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. “Thank you.”

“It's time for me to do this. For you.”

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

Darlin’ nightmare snippet

Here’s a lil snippet I wrote about Darlin’s dreams. I don’t think this’ll turn into a full fic, it’s a very nebulous idea. Inspired by some convos with @romirola, my redacted writing bestie 💗.

The dream was always the same. You, shifted, panting, teeth bared against a threat. Something invisible, something haunting, something looming over you from all directions. You, turning, prowling, herding pack behind you, trying desperately to guard them on all sides. Sometimes it was David or Asher or Milo. Worse, sometimes it was their mates. Sometimes it was all of them, the whole pack, huddled together and helpless.

Sometimes it was just Sam, staring at you with those wide, silver eyes. Waiting. Expectant.

Sometimes you won. It felt like a game of cat and mouse, and sometimes you caught whatever was hunting them between your teeth. The crunch of it, the hot tang of blood in your throat, the weight of success drawing you back down to peaceful sleep. It was all so fucking satisfying.

Sometimes you lost. You never got hurt. It was always them. You’d turn to find Asher missing, you’d hear Milo’s scream somewhere unseen. You’d find David, his brick wall of a body broken down and twisted at your feet. You’d watch the pack snatched away one by one into the darkness around you. David’s little mate torn into pieces. Asher’s mate calling your name, crying out for you as their voice died along with them. The dark, dead eyes of Milo’s mate staring back at you.

You always had to watch, your legs stiff and unmoving, as it (whatever it was, you could never really see) consumed Sam. You watched every painful twist of his face, every splatter of blood, every dying gasp as he was snuffed out in front of you.

He always knew when the dream went that way. He said your heart rate tipped him off, but you thought it had something to do with the mate bond. There was no tangible, provable magic behind it, but you knew better. David’s mate had called you a half hour before Milo did on the night of the E&E, swearing that in their core they knew something was horribly wrong. Asher’s mate had doubled over in pain at one point, gasping out that Asher was dead, that they knew it, that they couldn’t bear it. You’d only find out later that that moment had aligned almost perfectly with Asher’s meeting with a particular shade.

So it wasn’t outside of the realm of possibility that Sam’s core reacted to your distress, even if it was in a way he couldn’t articulate. He’s gently pull you towards him, wake you slowly, softly, murmuring comforts into the junction of your neck and shoulder.

You’d told him about the dreams eventually, mapped out the variations. He listened to intently, nodding and not interrupting as you spoke.

“I just don’t know who I’m protecting them all from.” You sighed, pushing your hair back from your face. Sam contemplated it for a moment. That was something you appreciate about Sam. He chose his words carefully.

“What is it that Carl Jung says?” He finally asked. “‘Everybody in your dreams is you.’”