#fangs in your neck... sunday

[camellia-thea]

vampiric

[bunnys-kisses]

ferrari blood

toto wolff

cw: smut/pwp, vampire!toto, driver!reader, blood (drinking), jealousy, possessive!toto, human!reader, missionary position, intimacy

i know i'm on vacation, but this is a little thing for a server i'm in to celebrate halloween! i'll see you all again on sunday <3

toto liked you in red. while not the colours of his team, he found it brought out your complexion so beautifully that it would be a shame to deny himself your beauty. toto remembered when the colour was associated with courage and sacrifice.

but you were no sacrifice, in fact you were a willing participant. so when you dressed in red, he associated it with heat, passion, love. and toto loved you in all shades of red. except for one.

"schatzi. my little light." toto said in a calm voice as he leaned forward, "why are you wearing that ferrari t-shirt?"

you looked at toto for a moment. you could feel his hungry gaze on you, "oh yeah! i spilled some of my dinner all over my shirt and carlos was nice enough for me to borrow one of his."

toto narrowed his eyes, "carlos? where were you that he had an extra shirt lying around?"

you blinked at him, "oh, i was in his driver's room with charles." then smiled, "they invited me for some take out before we left for england tomorrow, sir." you then added, "i thought having something in my stomach wouldn't make me... pass out like last time."

it was a tradition, you'd let your vampire team principal have a bit of your blood. and you would end up more relaxed for the upcoming race. it was as simple as that. toto was dressed in a button up white shirt and dark slacks.

"i love you in red, my little light." he said as he relaxed against the couch, "but not that kind." he eyed your figure, "you never looked right in ferrari."

you stepped towards him. if he had his way, you'd be dressed in something nicer. a sharper fit that highlighted the curves he adored. something low cut that showed off your beautiful breasts and the slope of your neck. ferrari red would never be able to present you to your fullest potential, just as racing for them would not make you win the world championship.

he patted his thigh and you walked towards him. slow careful steps, less like a nervous deer and more like a self assured woman. he smirked, you were teasing him. how cute.

"i think i look just fine." you responded as you got yourself onto your lover's lap. you felt his fingers drag across your neck and you leaned into his touch lovingly.

"i would disagree." toto replied before he showed you his fangs. vampire fangs out of a movie. the first time you saw them, you got scared but now you eagerly pressed yourself further against him. he smiled a little, "i hope he didn't like this shirt." then took you by the back of the neck.

you shuddered, nipples grew hard in your bra as toto sank his teeth into your neck. you held onto his shoulders tightly. the feeling of being bit in such a way was intense. you clawed at toto's strong shoulders while he drank your blood.

you felt the nerves of the upcoming race melt from your core. and toto felt the curl of possessiveness form in his gut. you were his sweet, darling angel. his little light. you should be treated as such, not marked with the logo of ferrari.

"toto." you whimpered as you felt your heart race and toto devour more blood. you trusted toto, he had self control. it was you, his little human, that didn't. you clung onto him tightly as a bit of blood got into the shirt, staining it a deeper red.

something often happened when toto had a taste of your blood. the anxiety you felt before a race was replaced with a heated lust in your core. you squirmed against him but toto's strong grip kept you close to him. you whined a little bit and felt your core throb as he dragged his tongue across wounds and stopped the bleeding. he was sated, but you had your blood seeped into the collar of the ferrari shirt.

"see, my little light. this red is more beautiful on your skin." then made you look at him. you could see the lust in his dark eyes. he was a vampire, but also a possessive old man. if this were a horror novel you'd be the damsel in distress. but you didn't feel like you were in distress. instead you watched your lover lean back on the couch and you straddled his waist.

you ran your hands across his chest and giggled a little bit at the sight of your lover. you felt a thud in your chest, the blood missing made you a bit lightheaded but that could also be from the immense pleasure you felt racing through your core.

"toto."

he chuckled and grasped your hips, "i know, my little light. but i cannot have sex with you while you are still clothed. how are you feeling, does your head hurt?"

you shook your head, "all good!" then smiled at him.

toto smiled at him, blood stained his teeth, "excellent, i don't need my favourite driver to get sick on me." he reached for you and cupped your face the way you would a puppy.

you giggled and leaned into his touch, all cute but dopey smiles. you looked painfully cute. toto helped you off his lap and got up off the couch, he took you by the hand and led you to the bedroom. toto got the t-shirt off your pretty body as soon as he could, he wanted to see the shirt burned. he watched your wobble a little when you tried to get your jeans off before you were face first in the bed in just your underwear.

even after centuries of living, toto still found new things to love about you. he admired your figure as he took off his button up and the shirt underneath. you rolled onto your stomach and got your bra off then your panties. eventually all clothes ended up on the floor.

toto could see the bite he left you already bruising a little, and when he got onto the bed with you, he traced the marks her left. he said, "your blood tastes sweeter than any wine on earth. it pulls me in. you are an enticing woman, and you drive me crazy." he said, his cock stood at full attention, he could feel the thump of want in his body.

you felt heat in your cheeks as he pressed himself up against you. your legs wrapped around his waist. you gazed into your lover's eyes and swallowed. you heard the stories of the vampires, but yet, toto was an enticing creature. made from the night, he pulled you into his world. not only were you his racing star, you were also the woman that he cherished. even if you never let him touch a drop of your blood, he would still yearn for your warm touches across his cold soul.

his world had become so much brighter with a little warmth in it. from the love of a human. he kissed his marks on your neck before he sank his cock into you. he felt you tense up from the intrusion, but then relaxed a moment later. you accepted him wonderfully.

"you did wonderful today." he said, "both on the track and in my lap. you raced with such beauty, i don't know why you still get so anxious." his voice was tender, but his thrusts were a little harder. you whined under him and he continued to speak, "you are more beautiful than any other driver to cross the paddock. your are the sun and i am simple a creature that yearns for your light."

you thought about turning your head away from him from the intensity of his words. you whined a little when he made you look at him. you squirmed a little bit and felt the leap in your chest. no words were spoken, only your sweet noises.

"don't look away from me." he said, "i wish to see your beauty as i fuck you." he smiled at you as he continued to thrust against you. he watched your body shift from the pleasure and he thought that you looked perfect under him. this would be the racer who wins it all, and toto would spoil you in return. he knew deep down he'd eventually turn you into a vampire, but he would love to spend eternity with you. his beloved bride, his racer, his light. he kissed you once more as he held onto you hips with both hands once more. he moved against you and felt comfort in his movements. you brought a life into toto's life that had been absent since his days as a human. even the sun he could walk in now was nothing like the sun you brought into his life.

his lips found your neck once more where he carefully nipped at the soft skin, he touched the other side of your neck. he remained close to you as he sank his teeth into your neck once more. he felt the blood in his mouth and the pleasure against his nerves. paired with the sharp sounds of your want for him. you squirmed a little and he kept you pinned with his larger frame.

he always stood so tall against you like a shadow. he could be so imposing, but when you looked at him, you never felt fear. not even with the fangs and the thirst for blood. instead you happily made your boss and lover happy with healthy drinks of blood. it wasn't like you were running out of it.

it was better for him to take it from you then lose control and harm someone else, or himself. you needed your lover happy, you needed him in a clear mind to navigate you towards victory. and when he pulled his mouth away from your neck, his lips stained with blood. you pulled him in for a hot kiss, with your hands in his dark hair. he pushed into your further, his pace relentless and you felt the buzz of heat in your brain.

"look at you." toto said softly, "perfect for me." he chuckled a little as he leaned in to lick a bit of blood off your lips. why would he ever want another when he had you.

his movements continued and you arched your back a little bit from all the pleasure. you once joked that toto spent all that time as a vampire figuring out how to make a woman orgasm. he said that sometimes it took the right partner. and that was exactly what you were.

his perfect partner.

it took a long time, but now he had you. and as he felt orgasm throb in the back of his mind, he continued to fuck you. and you continued to hold onto him. the two of you kissed once more with the throb in your neck. even pressed so tightly against him.

you whined a little louder as you felt the pleasure from head to toe, you clung to your vampire lover. you said, "please, toto."

"i'll always have you." he said as he gave you the pleasure you needed. he felt you tighten around him and with a few more heavy thrusts, you came while you held onto him as tight as you could.

he shuddered at the feeling of your climax. he pulled you into another heated kiss and felt his own orgasm wrack through him. a few heavy thrusts and he finished inside of you.

after the peak of climax, you relaxed with your hands on the soft covers. you swallowed and looked up at your lover with a heated glance. you shifted a little as he pulled out and you took him by the arms and pulled him next to you in bed.

you put a leg over his hips as you held his face. even though he was older, he had remained unchanged for decades. you joked that he was an old man and he said that if you kept talking like that, he was going to show you that he was a young man in ways that counted.

"i wait for it, sir." you replied as you kissed him once more.

"how are you feeling, my little light?"

you nodded, "i'm alright, just a little bruised. have you had your fill, toto?" you held his face and smiled at him. you looked a little more tired after two feedings and one fucking.

but toto held you close and kissed you cheek, feeling the heat on your skin. your precious blood under the skin. he replied, "of course, even a drop is more than enough."

you giggled and stayed close to him on the bed.

he added, "but, my little light." he took you by the chin to look at him, "never wear that awful red again." then kissed you. <3

[woundedoves]

How They Would Suck Your Blood: Vampires (Sunday, Dr Ratio x Bottom GN!Reader) Headcanons Part 2 (NSFW) ⟡part 1 ⟡part 3

a/n: sunday my savior

CW: Sunday has guilt about being a vampire, biting, blood, slightly violent thoughts on sunday’s part, slight insecurity in Ratio’s part

Sunday

⟡ Sunday hates himself for what he is, he hates himself for deceiving his planet of who he truly is, not a soft hearted, warm angel with a halo but a disgusting creature; walking among his people as if he doesn’t see them as food as soon as he gets a whiff of their blood. Were it not for Robin, he would have banished himself from Penacony a long time ago.

⟡ Regardless, your relationship with him is complicated to say the least. He’s convinced himself that you’re just another servant that just so happens to have the blood that his taste buds enjoy the most, nothing more nothing less.

⟡ At least, that’s what he tells himself as his fangs pierce your flesh, his length throbbing against the fabric of his underwear as he listens to your silent whimpers, your silent breaths, the way the drug that is you; you in your entirety hits his system, he feels like he’s truly reached the heavens.

⟡ He quickly realises that he doesn’t only enjoy your blood, the way your skin feels against his, the way your hands feel in his, the way your lips quiver when his own get way too close than they should to the lips of a servant. These… urges, let’s say, he’s always had them and yet— when you came into the picture they ramped up by a hundred, as they say.

⟡ He’s ashamed to even admit it to himself, ashamed to even think about it but… it makes him feel cathartic as he sits on his desk, agonisingly long papers sit atop his desk as he taps his fingers against his pen, clicking his tongue as his stressed thoughts wander to you. The way you quiver and squirm when he places his hands on your waist to keep you stable, the way you say ‘master Sunday’ when he goes too far with the feeding, the way your hips rut against his gloved hands when they ghost around your clothed sex; you’re oh so angelic when your neck is covered in your own blood, his fangs claiming you as his the moment they grazed your neck.

⟡ He wants to bite down on your pulse, he wants to tear you apart, he wants to cling onto you, tell you to never let go, he sees the want in your eyes, the desire and the love behind your lingering gaze and your lingering touches and yet he feels too ashamed to ever give the satisfaction of indulging…

⟡ His eyes that he didn’t realise were closed snap open as he hears a crack, he broke his pen in a desperate attempt at gripping it to stabilise his sinful thoughts, he sighs as he looks at the inky streaming down from his gloves as he thinks, ”would it be a sin to bite the apple, when I’ve already been born a sinner?”

Dr. Veritas Ratio

⟡ I don’t think he’d see it either as a bad or a good thing, it’s what he is, rather than lamenting and parading around with self pity, he’s taken the initiative to see the safest ways to feed on humans. The only thing is… he thinks the act of feeding on a person is rather… embarrassing.

⟡ He hates to admit it but he can get pretty desperate and messy, so he appreciates the fact that you don’t tease him when he is feeding on you, he is his most vulnerable self in that moment, he’s basically trusting you with his life. To some vampires human blood and the act of feeding on it is just a normal routine, some do it every day some do it every week and some do it every month, ratio does it every week to keep himself stable; and yet he just can’t adapt to it like others have, it’s so private and so vulnerable for him, you’ve seen him shed a few tears sometimes.

⟡ He feels guilty, no matter how much he tells himself that it’s just what he needs to do to survive now it doesn’t take away the fact that he’s drinking human blood now, his best guess is this sensitivity is because he’s been a vampire for roughly a year and a half now; he’s still adjusting.

⟡ You’ve suggested having sex while he feeds on you, his knee jerk reaction was a surprised, “absolutely not!” Though the more he thought about it, the more sense it kind of made. You’d feel good during the feeding and maybe, just kaybe the pleasure clouding his mind could keep his guilty thoughts at bay?

⟡ He was, admittedly, a bit nervous so you took action when he was in the bathtub, his favourite relaxing space as you let your hands wander down into the water, to his cock. He took a sharp breath as he closed his eyes, opening them when he felt the weight of you on his thighs, tapping his favourite spot to feed on on your neck as his hands snake around your form, pulling you closer and capturing your lips in a deep kiss as you sigh with pleasure. You withdraw from the kiss as you levitate yourself upwards a few inches with the help of the water, both of you moaning softly as you sink down on his dick, feeling his body quiver under you as his hips thrust up sharply.

⟡ You whine in pleasure as he sinks his fangs into your neck after peppering the spot with kisses, his hands kneading your ass as you slowly ride his cock, the pleasure has his mind foggy, his body numb and his cock hard, throbbing inside you as the taste of your blood hits his tongue. He should listen to your advice more often… maybe.

[azure-bluet]

fangs in your neck friday sunday !!!!!!1!1!!!!1!!

inspired by this one

[changbunnies]

Revelation (18+)

♡ Pairing: Vampire Priest!Jeongin x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: very loosely inspired by midnight mass (tv), horror themes, vampire / human relationship, smut, possibly dead dove? read the warnings carefully and come to ur own conclusion on what you're willing to read before engaging pls :')

♡ Word Count: 4k

♡ Summary: The suspiciously young and extremely handsome priest of your small-town church has a very big secret– and it's not until he's sinking his fangs into your neck that you discover what exactly that secret is.

♡ General Warnings: usage of typical vampire abilities (increased senses, strength, etc), descriptions of blood, religious themes (specifically catholicism focused), references to religious guilt + shame, reader does not trust jeongin at all (for good reason lol), very blatant manipulation, cult vibes? jeongin basically has the whole town under his thumb so. do with that what you will lol

♡ Smut Warnings: dubcon, vampire venom that acts as an aphrodisiac, sexual acts inside a church (specifically in a confessional booth), some gendered language (dirty + good girl), dom/sub dynamics, dom!jeongin, biting + blood drinking, thigh riding, fingering (f rec), a lil bit of praise kink, corruption kink?

♡ Notes: this is possibly niche but well. the vampire priest concept lives rent free in my head thanks to midnight mass, and innie said he wanted to be a priest + he'd definitely be a sexy vampire so here we are lmao. and sorry i'm suddenly posting out of age order for my late kinktober fics but i ended up finishing this before the other members i still have left :')

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

There's something that isn't right about your local church's head priest. Firstly, his age doesn't make sense; who on God's green earth becomes a priest in their 20s?

At least, you assume that's around how old Father Yang, who notably prefers to be called Jeongin, is– you've never been told, and you've never asked, but he certainly doesn't look any older than that.

Secondly, why are his sermons always at night? In all the towns you've ever lived in, in all the churches you've ever frequented, this is the first time you've ever experienced your standard, weekly Sunday service routinely happening at 9 p.m.

And thirdly, why is it that everyone who meets with him for confession comes back looking delirious and.. euphoric, almost? You don't get it– sure, confessing your sins is freeing; asking for and receiving God's forgiveness is among the best feelings that can be experienced if you're a devout believer, but still.

Something about all of it just doesn't sit right with you– and to make matters worse, you seem to be the only person in town suspicious of him. You're new to town, have only been here a handful of months, so you get it– you're the outsider, you don't know him like they do, et cetera, et cetera.

But how can not a single other person in town be bothered by how strange it all is? There has to be an explanation– you don't know what it is, and you don't know why you're the only one who seems to care, but there must be a reason.

It's Sunday again, and you spend the entire sermon watching Jeongin like a hawk, trying to catch any sign as to what it is about him that has all these people so enraptured. And while it's not necessarily wrong for him to be, another thing that strikes you is that he's easily the most casually dressed yet stylish priest you've ever met.

He wears the standard clergy vest and rabat, as he should, but over it is a leather jacket, and he wears denim blue jeans instead of dress pants. His shoes are sleek and polished, he has pretty, ornate rings decorating his fingers, has expertly styled slicked hair and silver earrings dangling from his pierced ears.

Again, it's not necessarily wrong, but it's definitely something you wouldn't think a priest's Sunday best would entail. And maybe that's only because the priests in your life have only ever been old, and didn't put much thought into style, but maybe that's what people like about him?

Maybe it makes him seem more down to earth and approachable; maybe it's easier to confess your sins when, outstanding devotion to God aside, he seems like as ordinary a person as any other. Of course, that's logically always the case, but some priests have an intimidating "holier-than-thou" attitude about them, and it certainly helps Jeongin's case that he seemingly makes an effort to not give off that vibe.

And admittedly, he's charming– there's something so uniquely handsome about the way he smiles while preaching God's word, how his eyes twinkle while he recites a scripture and relates it back to a point he made several minutes prior; you can't deny that it's enthralling.

But when he looks over the attendees lined in the pews, it always feels like he's looking straight through you, seeing to the depths of your soul and laying it bare. It gives you chills, honestly; makes you feel exposed in a way that's indescribable; like with a glance alone, he knows all your secrets, your every sin, down to their most minute details.

It's near midnight when his sermon ends; you stay seated in the backmost pew to the left, brows furrowed as everyone shakes his hand or hugs him, thanking him for another "terrific service." It's so bizarre– and it's not until the last of the congregation exits the small, wooden church that you begin to rise from your seat.

Though you're sure the church carries electricity and that the lights can be flicked on, the priest never does so– he always uses candles, casting a warm yellow glow on the dingy, white wood of the walls. It casts more shadows, gives the place an almost unsettling air– and when he turns to you, just as he's closing the Bible in his hand and setting it down, it sends a shiver through you.

"You're still here," Jeongin smiles at you from where he stands before the altar, centralized at the head of the church. It's a kind enough one, but you don't trust it; you can't shake the feeling that something lies beneath it– something abberant and dark that you can't place, but are certain is there.

"Do you wish to confess?" he asks, motions to the confessional booth with his hand as he tilts his head. "No," you answer, perhaps too quickly– and his smile grows ever so slightly, as if he's amused. At least, that's how you perceive his expression; and it makes you narrow your eyes at him, the distrust that radiates off you certainly palpable.

Your opinion of him is no secret, really; and he can tell you're scrutinizing him, trying to catch him in whatever act you think he's playing– it won't work, but it does humor him that you're trying. He doesn't know what sort of wild conclusions you've come to about him, but if you see anything, it'll be because he himself wanted you to see it– until then, you won't learn a single thing about who he truly is.

"Is there a reason you're still here then?" Jeongin questions next, and you swallow, hesitant to answer. Admittedly, you only stuck around in case someone did decide to go confess to him– you intended to eavesdrop, to try to listen in and find out what's really going on behind closed curtains.

It would've been massively immoral, but you would've confessed and asked for forgiveness later– privately, that is. You have no intention of seeking the Father's help in such matters, given how little trust you have towards him.

But still, despite the fact that you were willing to sneak around and listen to private conversations, you aren't entirely willing to lie in the house of God– so after some internal grappling with yourself on what you should and shouldn't do in this position, on what is right and wrong, you end up admitting the truth.

"I don't trust you," you tell Jeongin plainly, and you can swear you see him trying to suppress a smirk.

"I'm aware," he says, so matter of fact that it almost sends you reeling. And it's not that you were so disillusioned into thinking you weren't being obvious; you know very well that you weren't being the most covert in your suspicion of him– it's how unbothered and amused by it he seems to be that really gets you.

Shouldn't he be offended? Question your reasoning? Try immediately to dispel your doubts and clear up any misconceptions you may have? Instead, he seems more than ready to just accept it for what it is– even seems entertained by it.

"Does it not bother you that I don't trust you?" you ask, and he almost laughs as he shakes his head. "No. There's no reason for it to," he answers simply; and before you can ask why, or what he means, he's already answering– you suspect he could already tell you were going to press him on the matter.

"God teaches us to love one another. So even if you do not love me, or trust me, I love you, just as God instructs me to," Jeongin smiles as he speaks, and again, your brows furrow. It's a perfect answer, really– but it feels.. inorganic, almost rehearsed.

And the glimmer in his eye throws you off; it doesn't feel like the pure, honest delight you'd see on a priest putting God's word into practice. It feels mischievous, deceitful– like he doesn't believe an ounce of what he's saying, but he wants you to believe that he does.

"I know what you're thinking," he says, and you swallow, stiffening where you stand as he continues, "And if you really want to know what goes on during confession, want to see for yourself what it is I do to help the people who look to me, I can show you."

If you're being entirely honest, the offer is tempting; and strangely, it also makes you feel.. bad, almost– makes you second guess yourself. Because if he's freely offering like this, surely it can't be whatever you've been making it out to be in your head.

There's no way he'd out himself, and whatever it is he does, just to gain the trust of one person out of hundreds who doesn't believe his pure intentions. And maybe the other townsfolk really do trust him for good reason; maybe you've just been examining the situation and looking at Jeongin and the church in the wrong light.

Maybe you've been blowing everything out of proportion with obscene assumptions, and maybe he really is just a good priest. Maybe he makes you feel so seen, heard, and whole, that all your worldly problems melt away, feel trivial and light in comparison to God's plan for you.

Because after all, you are the outlier here. You're the only one in the whole town that doesn't trust him; and surely that means you're the one in the wrong. Jeongin does things differently than you're used to, but that doesn't mean he's inherently bad. And maybe you should confess– ask God to forgive you for not being receptive to the word of one of His servants.

Jeongin smiles when you concede and start to slowly step your way to the confessional. You pull back the curtain, step inside and prepare to sit in the small, wooden booth seat, but you quickly realize he's followed you inside. You gasp as you turn around, back pressing against the intricately carved hardwood window of the booth as he closes you in.

"Sh-Shouldn't you be on the other side?" you ask, much too meek for your liking. It's a cramped fit given that the booth is only meant to fit a single person on either side at a time; it makes you unconsciously hold your breath as you're effectively caged inside the booth with him– nowhere to go, and nothing you can do but stare at him, bewildered.

"No," he answers as quick and simple as before, his smile once again growing ever so slightly. And maybe you could push him, try to dart past him if you manage to successfully make him topple back, but you feel frozen– because even in the dark, barely lit confessional you're in, you're certain that you see his dull canines become long, pearly white fangs.

"Don't worry, it will only hurt for a second," he assures you as he brings his hands to your arms, gripping them just below your shoulder as he leans towards you. You shudder, his breath fanning your ear as he inches towards your neck, "but after that– it's bliss."

You feel the sharp points of his teeth poke at your skin, and it makes you gasp as your head tilts to the side, making room for him to sink his fangs into your flesh. Instinctively, your hands search for something to grab; you end up reaching for his shoulders, twisting your hands in his leather jacket to ground yourself as his sharp teeth pierce into your neck.

Your legs wobble, and he forces one of his own between your thighs, uses it to keep you upright as he drinks from you. And there is pain, but it really is only for a second, just like he said it’d be– within seconds it melts away, and oh, you instantly understand.

It’s much, much more than bliss– it’s ecstasy, it’s rhapsody, it’s the greatest pleasure you’ve ever felt. Spreading from your neck to every last nerve ending in your body, every atom of your body becomes alight with euphoria as his bite sends tingles throughout you, raising goosebumps along your skin.

You cry out, an embarrassingly loud sound that you barely recognize as your own voice as one of your hands finds its way to his head. Your fingers thread into his hair, hold him to your neck as if you don't want him to ever separate from you– and to be fair, maybe you don't.

It feels so good, so exhilarating, intoxicating, that you almost don't want the sensation to ever end. Jeongin meanwhile lets out delighted hums, eventually slowly retracting his fangs to latch his lips around the sensitive, bruising skin, his tongue lapping away at the blood that pours from the two little marks left behind.

The beating of your heart quickens, breaths quickly growing labored as the inexplicable want continues to seep into your veins. Your thighs tremble as tension builds deep in your gut, and they try to press together to seek relief, but Jeongin's leg stays firmly nestled between yours, preventing it.

And were you not so utterly blissed out, maybe the incessant, desperate throbbing of your pussy would make you feel ashamed– but all you can think about is the deep seated desire overtaking every receptor, every tiny cell, every molecule within you, as if the very chemistry that makes up your being has been altered for Jeongin alone.

Unable to resist, you rut against his thigh, entirely shameless and feverish– because it's all you have access to, all you can do to relieve the growing ache between your legs. It’s sinful, your growing lust is– and the last place you should ever be doing this is inside of a church; but you’re too far gone to care, too gripped by the need for stimulation.

Jeongin lets go of your arms, reaches between your bodies to hike up your church gown, giving you easier access to his lean, muscular thigh. He’s gracious, tugs your soaked panties to the side so your clit can catch on the denim of his jeans– and the delicious friction makes you moan for him, loud and sweet. 

He pulls away from your neck to watch your desperate humping, eyes gleaming with mischievous satisfaction as he watches you pleasure yourself on his thigh. His eyes are perfectly adapted to seeing in the low light, and so he can easily see every little detail of you– from the mess your pussy leaves behind on his jeans, to the sweat beginning to drip down your temple, to the trembling of your bottom lip before you tuck it between your teeth. 

And when he smiles at you now, it’s like the fox that got the rabbit; even in the extremely dim candle light you can see the way your blood coats his lips, messily dripping from the corners of his mouth and down his chin. His dark eyes are gleaming– because he has you ensnared, and you both know there’s no going back. 

You untangle your fingers from his hair, and you watch as he reaches for your falling hand, grabbing your wrist and bringing it to his mouth. He holds your gaze as he kisses over the pulsing vein, and it makes your breath hitch, the blood on his mouth smearing over the surface of your skin, staining it crimson. 

“Should I bite you here too?” he asks, placing another kiss over your vein before he shoots you a grin full of fang, “you’re so delicious– I want to taste you even more.” You gasp and squirm as Jeongin presses the tips of his bared fangs against your skin– not quite biting just yet, but it’s enough to spread another wave of tingles over your body. 

“Yes, bite me, please!” you cry, voice almost frantic in its urgency– and you can see the corners of Jeongin’s lips twisting into a devious smile before he’s obliging, burying his fangs deep into your wrist within an instant. You wince, your fingers clenching as he squeezes your wrist in his hand, keeping it tightly pressed to his mouth. 

And just as before, within seconds the sharp sting dulls and ebbs into incomparable pleasure, goosebumps spreading over every inch of your heated skin. Faintly, you can see your blood dribble past his lips, slowly flowing down the length of your forearm before it drips to the floor of the booth. 

You can just barely see his tongue licking over his bite, doing his best to collect all the blood that spills from you, and it's mesmerizing– especially when he brings his fingers to your arm to swipe up what his tongue misses. Your stomach flutters as you watch him separate from your wrist and bring his bloodied fingers to his mouth; they're so long, so pretty and enticing– you want them.

Jeongin can see it in your eyes– how brazenly you stare at his fingers, how your eyes follow every move he makes with them. You're still panting, sweating, chest heaving from the exertion, but the rutting of your hips has faltered; and he grins as he gazes at you. You're once again left with the feeling that he sees through you– that all it takes is a glance for him to know everything you're thinking.

"You want them? Want me to stuff your cunt full with my fingers? Make you cum all over them?" he asks, entirely rhetorical; he already knows the answer. And he likes the way you writhe over the question, how you gasp over the sinful words he so freely spills in such a sacred place, your ears positively burning.

Even if your face didn't obviously show your desires, you don't think you'd be able to deny them; you've never wanted anything as badly as you want this, want him. It should make your gut twist with shame, because deep down you know this is wrong, know that you shouldn't want him to touch you as badly as you do– but the craving for Jeongin to bring you pleasure is almost primal, so deep and innate that your rational mind can't even hope to fight against it.

Slowly, almost playfully, he trails his fingertips over your thigh, and the anticipation is enough to make you unconsciously hold your breath. "You're so fucking messy," Jeongin says as he brushes his fingers over your soaking, sensitive clit, "so wet– you're a dirty girl, huh?"

You want to whine, want to shake your head and vehemently deny that you're dirty, attest to being a good, honest, and God fearing– but you're so overcome with your desire for him to touch you, that you don't. Instead you agree, concede that you are dirty, and messy, and that you want him more explicitly than you feel your own words could ever attest.

How easily you agree to being dirty seems to please him– and with a light chuckle, he slips his hand further down while carefully removing his leg from between your thighs. You wobble a bit when the support of his leg is gone, but he's quick to wrap an arm around you to hold you, effortlessly keeping you upright with the strength innate to who, or rather what, he is.

The cool, silver band that he wears on his pinky makes you jolt when it touches your feverishly hot thigh, and he chuckles again as he spreads your folds with his fingers. You're dripping for him, so slick with arousal that it hardly takes any effort at all for Jeongin's fingers to become coated with your juices.

You rock your hips against his hand, wordlessly begging him to give you what it is you crave most. "Oh look at you, so impatient, so desperate," he laughs as he presses the pads of his fingers to your hole, delighting in the way you look at him with glassy eyes and pinched brows.

It's obscene how badly you want him; you've never felt this needy, never been rendered so desperate for stimulation– and you're in a confessional of all places. This is the very last place on earth you should feel this way, or be doing something like this, and yet the shame you should feel is far from your mind– because all you can think about is your need for his beautiful fingers to fill you up and dull the throbbing ache between your legs.

Jeongin coos when you start to beg for his fingers, a rambling string of "please," and "want it, want you," and "need it so bad." You can tell how much satisfaction it gives him, and if your mind weren't so hazy from desire you'd certainly feel embarrassment build and twist from deep in your gut– but any such feelings are silenced by your body's need for his touch, by your craving for the sensations that only he can grant you.

It takes your breath away when he easily sinks two fingers inside you, thrusting them in and out slowly until he curls and bends them to find the spot that makes you see stars. "That's it, there you go," he grins when he finds it. He watches your eyes roll back, your hands clutching at his jacket as he continues to press the tips of his fingers into your most sensitive spot.

He returns to your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin and nipping it with sharp teeth before he kisses and licks over the bruises he leaves behind. He applies pressure to your swollen clit with his thumb while relentlessly targeting your spot, an easy task for him thanks to the length of his fingers, and his hold on you tightens when the shaking in your legs grows more intense.

You're so, so close, and Jeongin can tell too– not just from how your pussy pulses and squeezes around his fingers, but because he can hear the loud, erratic thumping of your heart, as well as the rush of blood pulsing in your veins. "C'mon, let go– cum, you can do it, cum for me," he urges, speaking softly against the shell of your ear while swirling his thumb over your clit.

"There you go, good girl, just like that," he praises as you string out a loud succession of whimpers, your thighs closing tight around his hand as your high finally takes you. Your world feels like it’s spinning, your heartbeat ringing in your ears as you ride out your high, your release gushing messily around his fingers.

His hand stays in place until your thighs untense, and he’s careful as he slips his fingers out of you, though you can’t help but shiver and whine from the sensitivity regardless. You're unsteady on your feet following your orgasm, but Jeongin makes sure you don't fall over; he keeps his grip on your firm, carefully helps you turn away from where you were pressed against the carved window to sit in the booth's only seat.

He wipes the sweat from your forehead after you sit, leans down to fix and smooth over the skirt of your church gown as you try your best to collect your breath and calm your racing heart. He's reverted back to his kindly priest persona it seems– you can tell by the warm smile he offers when you look at him, his sharp fangs fully retracted.

Still, bits of your blood remain smeared over his lips– clear evidence that he isn't the saintly man he portrays himself to be. You watch breathlessly as Jeongin licks the last of it from his lips before he pulls back the curtain of the confessional booth.

He offers you his hand after it seems like you've recovered enough to stand again; your own hand trembles as you accept it, and with his assistance, you rise carefully from your seat.

You're a bit dizzy when you stand, equal parts consequence of blood loss and the euphoria still lingering and tingling in your veins, but you're otherwise steady; and he smiles as he squeezes your hand in his, the other coming to rest on the small of your back as you take your first step out of the booth.

"Come back to confession again sometime," Jeongin says with his characteristically deceitful, charming smile, knowing full well that you will. Humans always find the sensation of his venom irresistible, always become addicted to it once they've felt it– and you'll be no different. "I'll be waiting for you."

[thebramblewood]

As Lilith’s question lingered in my mind — Do you trust me? — it required all of my dwindling energy to focus on something other than the peculiar sensation of her fangs digging into the tender flesh of my neck. Eventually, as my vision blurred and darkened, my mind drifted to a more comforting view, memories of an idyllic childhood. We were innocent then, troubled by nothing, not yet cognizant of the weight of expectation that would soon be thrust upon us. Though only two years separated us, I idolized Lilith. She was so confident and daring, two qualities I’d always lacked. I would have followed her anywhere, trusted her in anything — in fact, I did more often than not.

Only now, as I recall these final moments of my mortal life, does that trust begin to waver.

Previous / Next

Young Caleb: You’ll never make it all the way to the top.

Young Lilith: Will too.

Young Caleb: Will not.

Young Lilith: Will too! Let’s make a deal. If I reach the tallest branch, you have to climb up after me.

Young Caleb: I don’t know, Lily…

Young Lilith: Why are you so afraid if you don’t even think I can do it?

Young Caleb: It isn’t fair if I help you up.

Young Lilith: Just be quiet and stop wiggling. You’d better get climbing, pipsqueak!

Young Caleb: Don’t call me that! Look, I’m even higher than you!

Governess: [distantly] Lilith and Caleb Vatore! Get your behinds down here! Your mother will have my hide if you scuff up your Sunday best.

Young Lilith: [giggling breathlessly] Last one inside is a rotten egg!

Young Caleb: Wait! Help me down, Lily. I’m too scared. Don’t leave me here, Lily! Come back!

-

Caleb: [faintly] Lily?

Vlad: Goddamn it, girl! Get the hell off!

[discordant piano notes]

You’re killing him!

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: the first week of Cellbit's life after being turned into a vampire by the man he's been dating for three weeks

For @smallchaoscryptid's Spiderbit Week Day One- Vampires

-

Day Zero - Saturday

"Just stay still!"

"I am still!"

"Nooo, you're fucking wiggling."

"I'm trying to get comfy. If I'm going to die, I want to be comfortable."

"My lap isn't comfortable? Is that what you're telling me?"

"Your knees are bony."

"I'll show you bony- stay still, motherfucker!"

"Guapito- oh, shit-"

Cellbit sucks in one final, shuddery breath and goes limp, his fingers twitching- searching for Roier's.

But Roier's hand only finds his after he's dead.

Day One - Sunday

His eyes are open, but all he can see is the scent of blood in the air. He can't move, but his limbs beg to be put to use. He's so hungry.

Something settles in his hair, something cold and soft and almost comforting through the pain wracking his entire body.

"Shh, gatinho," it whispers. "I'm back."

He leans into the touch with a whine, eyes slipping shut and exposing him to The End again. It's horrible, but at least. At least it isn't nothing.

There's nothing. The End is something. The End rejected him. He is alive, and he is hungry.

Fingers card through his hair, gently massage his scalp. But it isn't his head that's hurting, it's his everything. His mouth. His teeth. His teeth-

Air brushes past his mouth. Prey.

Instinctively, he snaps at it, growling as his teeth dig into the prey.

"Puta madre-" the prey swears, but, no that isn't the prey. That's...

He whimpers as the not prey tears its hand out of his mouth.

"You're lucky you're cute," the not prey tells him. "Hold on, let me get you some actual dinner."

And then the not prey leaves. Again.

And he is alone with the nothing. Again.

Day Two - Monday

The room is too cold but the blankets are itchy and the pillow is too warm and the overhead fan is turned on and he's so cold, why is he so cold?

Shivering, he pulls his blanket over his head. But it itches, so he pulls it back off, but he's so cold-

"Hey, no, come here," the not prey says.

He snarls as he's gently pulled to the not prey's chest, but his anger dies down the second he recognizes the not prey's scent: guapito.

His guapito.

He burrows back until he can't tell where guapito ends and he begins. Then, and only then, does he start to feel warmth again.

The End was warm, so warm. But it turned him away, and now he's cold- but that's good, right? He doesn't know why it's good that The End rejected him and sent him back to the nothing, his head hurts, his teeth hurt. But. But maybe it has something to do with his guapito.

A kiss is pressed to the back of his neck. "There we go. Sleepy gatinho, eh?"

He hums in acknowledgment. But he doesn't talk, he doesn't know how. He doesn't think he's supposed to. He's too hungry to even though he'd just eaten moments or hours or centuries ago.

"Tomorrow will be better," guapito tells him, and he believes it.

Day Three - Tuesday

He keeps biting the inside of his mouth when he tries remembering how to speak to guapito. And, frankly, he's starting to get sick of it.

He pouts, but guapito just smiles and coos and leans in close and brushes its nose against his.

"You'll get used to it," guapito says. "They'll be done growing in by tomorrow."

Tomorrow is forever away, though. When The End had sent him back, it had told him that he would wake up 'tomorrow', but he was there for what felt like thousands of years. He only found his way back to the nothing when he'd heard someone talking to him.

Who...?

Wordlessly, though not wordless by choice, he bites guapito's nose. He doesn't bite hard, and he doesn't bite with his fangs, but guapito still screams and tumbles off the bed dramatically.

He smiles, fangs and all, but guapito just grumbles and reaches up and pinches his cheek hard.

And then guapito smiles, fangs and all.

It's beautiful.

He tries to say as much, but he ends up biting his tongue. Again.

Damnit.

Day Four - Wednesday

He can't stop crying, why can't he stop crying? He isn't in pain, but it all hurts so badly, but he doesn't know why, and-

"Gatinho, hey, it's fine," guapito softly says- it sounds sad, and now he feels worse because he made guapito sad and he's just a failure of a... of a... of a...

He can't remember? Why can't he remember? All he remembers is The End and then the nothing that came afterwards, the nothing he's been living in since. He blinked, and he was out of The End, and he was in somebody's arms, but who? Guapito, right? But why? How do they know each other?

He chokes on his own tears as he comes to a terrifying realization. He doesn't know who he is. He's been awake for days, but he doesn't know his own name- oh, God.

Guapito holds him closer, rocking them gently back and forth on the floor, because he had crawled off of the bed in his own misery hours ago and hasn't been able to muster the will to get up since.

The End took something from him before kicking him out. Did The End take him?

Guapito shushes him gently, far more tender than it's been since he's known him. But he doesn't know him, so how does he know that?

"You'll think this is funny later," guapito assures him. "I did. You're just emo today, it's fine. New instincts and shit, they'll figure themselves out, and then we can go back to bed. Okay?"

He buries his face in guapito's shoulder. What he would give to be in bed again...

Day Five - Thursday

There are flashes in his mind of things he can't quite remember. A garden filled with blue flowers, a swimming pool. A little boy in overalls locking him in a closet with...

Guapito trudges into the room with a fresh pitcher of blood for them to share, because he's still hungry.

"I'm making you go hunting when you're out of bed," guapito huffs.

He places the pitcher down on the bedside table and wipes the non-existent sweat off of his forehead with his headband.

He is stunning.

"Okay," he croaks out, wincing as his fangs clip his tongue. But it's worth it for the brilliant smile guapito sends him and the forehead kiss he gets.

"You are so sexy when your voice is all fucked," guapito growls, playful and not at all threatening.

He bites back a frown. "No."

"Yes. And you had better get used to being called sexy because you-" Guapito pokes him between the eyes with one finger. "-are stuck with me for forever. No take-backs."

He doesn't want a take-back. He's been thinking through the hunger pangs, and he thinks that he went to The End because of guapito. Not because guapito sent him there, but because guapito was the one to pull him home.

This is home, right? A dimly-lit bedroom with wooden walls and well-worn floors, scratchy blankets and soft pillows, soft voices downstairs. Guapito.

It doesn't ring any bells, but he thinks that, if it wasn't his home before The End, it could be his home now that he's left it.

A small smile on his face, he reaches up and cups guapito's cheeks.

"Okay," he repeats, just because he thinks guapito needs to hear it.

And guapito smiles, and it's all just... okay.

Day Six - Friday

He has a name, he thinks. Cellbit. It's what guapito calls him when he thinks he's asleep. When Cellbit is asleep.

It sounds familiar. So does the mention of a child- Richarlyson- and the mention of a woman- Jaiden- and the mention of another child- Bobby.

But what's guapito's name? He has to have one, right? One as beautiful as he is.

"You look almost normal today," guapito comments.

Cellbit doesn't feel normal. He feels hungry, but he's less hungry than he's been for the past several days. He feels cold, but he doesn't mind the cold as much as he used to. He feels confused, but he's remembering more every day. So he might be back to normal soon.

(Whatever normal is for him, anyway.)

The End had taken normal from him. He remembers it being freezing. He stayed huddled before its mighty presence shivering and begging to be heard. He wasn't dead, he wasn't. He couldn't be dead, he was talking. He couldn't be dead, he had... someone to get back to.

And then he'd heard the voice, and The End had released him.

Cellbit leans his head onto guapito's shoulder and closes his eyes.

"Te amo," he whispers. He may not remember who guapito is to him, but he knows this to be true.

Guapito stiffens beneath him, but he quickly relaxes again and slings an arm over Cellbit's shoulders.

He presses a soft kiss to Cellbit's temple and whispers, "Me, too."

Guapito had mentioned something about spending eternity with him, and that sounds just fine to Cellbit. He doesn't think he'd rather have it any other way.

Day Seven - Saturday

Cellbit wakes up not hungry for the first time since escaping from The End. He stares up at the ceiling, and his mind is filled with one word and one word only:

"Roier?" he whispers.

Next to him, guapito- Roier!- stirs. He yawns and rolls onto his side so that he's facing Cellbit. His face is red and marked with the imprints of his pillow, and his eyes are squinted shut and wet with interrupted sleep, and drool is dried to the corner of his mouth, but Cellbit is still caught breathless because he's so perfect.

"Gatinho?" Roier yawns. "What's wrong?"

He squirms until his head is using Cellbit's chest as a pillow. He wraps both of his arms around Cellbit's one like it's a stuffed animal.

His eyes slip shut again, but he doesn't fall back asleep. He's too busy tapping his fingers against the inside of Cellbit's elbow.

"I think I died," Cellbit says. His voice is quiet, contemplative. Almost reverent, because he stared The End in the face, and he was let go. Why?

"You did," Roier responds.

"But I'm here."

"You are."

"Why?"

Roier mutters something about "fledgling amnesia". Cellbit only halfway understands, but he doesn't question it. He doesn't think he wants to.

"Because I'm a vampire," Roier eventually says. "And you wanted to be one, too."

Cellbit blinks. "Huh."

"Yeah, 'huh'." Roier lightly pinches Cellbit's arm. "Go back to sleep. We need to go hunting tomorrow."

Hunting... Cellbit likes the sound of that.

But, first:

"We should get married."

This wakes Roier up fully. He sits up, lets go of Cellbit, stares at him with wide eyes.

Cellbit sits up, too. He takes Roier's hand in his, turns it over. Thinks about how good he'd look with a ring on his finger.

"I might not remember everything about you," Cellbit tells him, "but you've been with me all week even when I was..." ("...completely feral and out of control...") "...emo. And I liked you enough before to die to be with you. So... marriage only makes sense, right?"

Roier's mouth flaps like a fish's for a good couple of tense minutes before he cracks a grin and tries covering it up with furrowed eyebrows and a faked frown.

"Try again with a ring," Roier snaps with happy tears in his eyes.

He flops back down and pulls the blanket over his head.

Cellbit stares at him for just a moment before smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.

Wordlessly, he snuggles back down into bed. He slips beneath the covers with Roier, pulling him to his chest and spooning him from behind. He hides his smile in the back of Roier's neck and giggles as Roier swears at him through his own laughter.

"I can't believe I'm going to be with you for forever," Roier teasingly complains.

"Me neither," Cellbit responds.

The rest of eternity until the sun should die out and then beyond. Until they both crumble to dust in each other's arms at the end of the universe.

That sounds wonderful.

[eskir]

formal dance - vampire!sunday x reader

yada yada, i haven’t written for sunday in a while (also the hsr sunday reddit is a cult, somehow??? (i’m not against it tho lmao)) but have this. i have some world building ideas and may expand, but for now enjoy a little writing from me (and my eepy self) gn!reader as always

the tales of vampires, sunday had discovered over the course of his new life, were quite misguided. perhaps that could be due to the tales originating from many amber eras ago, but a sly smile was still brought to his face when he saw his reflection in the mirror.

he was quite fortunate, sunday had thought to himself before. it would be annoying if he were unable to peer at himself and adjust his clothes accordingly: smoothing out any creases and tucking his hair so that no strands were sticking out. he had to look his best. even if mr. gopher wood was no longer around, sunday still clung onto those old habits and teachings.

adjust the glasses on the table, eyes wandering over the ballroom critically, and a polite smile on his face as he wandered around. although, the word wander did imply a certain lack of direction, so no, sunday only appeared to be wandering. in reality, he was mingled with key figures of the main five family figures of penacony, simple greetings and the like, before standing by your side.

he hands a flute of champagne to you, your favorite, with a coy smile. “are you enjoying yourself my dear?” a simple question, yet all too formal, but that was simply the nature of these kinds of gatherings.

“yes,” a genuine smile on your face, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you gesture at your outfit and then back at his, “which dressmaker did you employ this time? give my compliments to them, the feeling of the fabric is otherworldly.”

sunday looks at you fondly, and you’re struck with the knowledge that his affection is only shown vaguely, through gestures or purposeful micro expressions. “they are old pieces, just well maintained with multiple alterations for your size,” he chuckles, “i’ll give your compliments to the one who did the alterations.”

your champagne glass is half empty as he plucks it out of your hand and onto the server’s plate passing by. “but enough about that, let’s dance.”

there was only a moment for your eyes to widen and protest at the disappearing glass before he whisks you onto the dance floor with such graceful movements that makes your stumble seem purposeful. he is a vampire, that fact is brought to the very forefront of your brain when he brings his face close to your neck. your heart skips a beat, but then you are twirled around the room. you manage to eventually catch up with the tempo of the song, your feet now moving alongside his as he shoots you a closed eye smile.

he’s glad that you adapted well, and he didn’t mean any harm when taking you into the dance floor, that much is apparent when you look into his golden navy eyes. mirth and joy swirl in his eyes, in fact, alongside that very familiar fondness as you both lose yourself to this dance. it ensnares you both in its joyous grasp, like the way fae entrance foolish mortals. but one of you isn’t mortal, and the other isn’t foolish enough to not stop when the musicians take their pause.

applause. loud and raucous. it’s been far too long since sunday has last danced.

sunday’s eyes crinkle slightly as he looks towards you, his hand around your waist as you both stand up from the bow. “thank you all,” and back is his polite smile, those closed eyes and perfect aura, “i hope you all will enjoy the festivities as much as i enjoyed dancing with my beloved.”

there is only a slight chuckle from him, but the rest of the crowd quickly imitates it, before the chatter resumes and the attention is brought elsewhere.

“come, i have a surprise for you,” he murmurs against your ear, pulling away with a grin, his sharp fangs showing, “and i promise that it won’t be as unpleasant as me guiding you off for a dance.”

you snort out a laugh, shaking your head as sunday had already brought you several paces from the ballroom. there’s no one else around here, so you aren’t forced to put on airs anymore, a fact you merrily take advantage of. “i think you owe me for that surprise,” you roll your eyes at him playfully, “and don’t tell me to come when you’ve already whisked me out of the ballroom and to the front of our room sunday.”

he huffs with a smile, opening the door and closing it behind you two. “well i’ll make it up to you in the coming weeks,” he breathed, moving closer to you as his wings brushed against your face, “but for now let’s relax.”

his hands gently take your jacket off of you, folding it neatly and draping it over the chair nearby, “alright?”

a soft hum from you, “alright love.”

and when the night had already ended, the bright sun rising to the occasion, you two were already tucked away in the shadows of your room, small smiles and intermingling breaths.

[karleksmumskladdkaka]

Happy Fangs In Your Neck Friday, folks! Just thought I'd let you know that a tokuten featuring these two handsome, irresistible devils will be posted this Sunday ～(´∀｀～)! So stay tuned and get your earphones ready, 'cause it's a good one (///ω///)

[lexirosewrites]

Hi lexi, for slick Sunday I've been having thoughts after your poll last week!

So here's the thing, last Sunday's poll about the ways to break bonds came out the day after I had Thoughts about how bonds work in the first place!! So I decided to share here!! Firstly bonds are made by the puncture of the scent gland in the neck. This puncture is then filled with the claiming venom from an alphas fangs!! Typically the puncture and subsequent injection of claiming venom is done with a bite!! However it doesn't have to!! Modern medicine means that having a doctor extract your alphas claiming venom and then simply injecting it into your gland causes a perfectly normal bond!! Of course this means it's super easy to fake this new bond because the scar is tiny!! It also means that removing the physical bond is easy!! Just drain the gland!! You can refill it with some of the omegas natural scent from another gland and they'll be right as rain!! It also also means it can be easy to force a bond on someone by just injecting them!! So of course I think of Stranger Things, and the two characters who get stabbed with a mystery liquid in their necks!! This could be a terrifyingly effective interrogation tactic used by the Russians under the mall. Once Steve and Robin are claimed by one of their interrogators their new mates can use their Alpha voice commands to demand info!!! Which is terrifying to think about so I imagine Dustin and Erica show up before many demands can be made and then at the hospital the new bonds can be removed super easy!!! Stobin become platonic soulmates despite the Horrors and go on to mate lovely people who give them full on bites to show this is different!! That they aren't being used but loved by their true bondmates!!!

oh nooo that’s so sad (i love it)

can you imagine how much more trauma stobin would have and the way those bonds being forced on them would make it difficult to trust alphas? you think they’re codependent in canon? ha! they’d be nesting together and a total mess of scarred internally!!

but that also means eddie will work twice as hard to win steve over and prove that bonds can be good and loving and not just a means of controlling him!!🥺

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Obsession was so good!!! 

"He expects his flesh to bubble and burn, expects it to cut through those surface layers of it and leave him without the limb again"

I'm sorry again?? And how he immediately stood in the light afterward??? My fucking heart

"All For One had come to check up on him, and Tomura had clung to him, not understanding what had happened to him. But he could smell that the other man was... angry, unhappy, disappointed. He knew it was his fault that he felt those things and Tomura had done his best to stop crying as he had been taken back to the doctor."

I WILL FIGHT THAT MAN!!! Your version of Tomuras upbringing is always incredible, I'm eating it up whenever it features, and this fic was wonderfully painful thank you lol

Dabi being afraid of muscular :(( damn endeavor

Shig leaving a cold spot on the bed is so funny

I love that you kept the boys relationship pretty sweet while sticking to the obsession prompt!! That dynamic works well for them. Shig gets to be mildly creepy, Dabi never feels ignored again, win win

All the pet names in Tomuras inner monologue are adorable. Wildfire <3

The spit kink..... I'm insane. Dabi you slut (affectionate)

"The heady thought of drinking enough that his firefly won't be able to get hard flits through his mind. He tucks that thought away for later." 

PULL IT BACK OUT TELL ME EVERYTHING

Oooh the misunderstanding. Poor Dabi. I feel awful for Tomura too but also yikes that phone call

"You were sucking and fucking me six ways to Sunday!"

"Such a fucking creep." His mouth is full of his fangs as he sees the other looking so good against his sheets again. "Yeah." 

I snorted

I loved their whole argument, Dabi's so upset but he's scary as hell when we're not in his head

"Tomura thinks, maybe, that means that Dabi's heartbeat will be his from now on too and that makes the silence in his own chest far less deafening."

Such a beautiful line to wrap up this fic!! Thank you tanco

Today was such an ordeal (SQUIRRELS ATE MY INTERNET CABLE) and this was such a nice ask to receive after all of that.

Ujiko and AFO have definitely been torturing that poor boy for years under the guise of making him 'better' and Tomura definitely just got used to putting up with it.

AFO is a POS adoptive father and he always will be!!

Dabi doesn't do well with hulking figures who use their physical strength to get what they want :)

This is PEAK dynamic for them lol, Shigaraki is already always slightly creepy anyway so it it just makes sense.

wildfire is absolutely entering the rotation of pet names from now on

mmm, Tomura having Dabi in his lap, his back to his chest as he makes Dabi touch himself while he whispers filthy things in his ear and licks and nibbles on his neck, refusing to break skin until Dabi is so close to his orgasm. He bites and drains his blood so that as Dabi cums, he's doing it as he softens and makes him keep stroking himself until he thinks he's ready to go again, even though he's still not hard before he lets his pretty human sip at his veins and watches as he hardens and cums rapidly a second time, cooing over how cute he is 💕

Dabi was peak angry pomeranian in this one and we love to see it.

Thank you so much for the kind words! This really made my day!

[smallandalmosthonest]

several stuff sunday aka catching up on tags from the week

i've had the craziest week of my liiiiiife and missed out on one thousand tag games and i'm catching up NOW with a bunch of snippets from alllllllll my wips!!!

thanks for tagging me all week my loves @tizniz @devirnis @sibylsleaves @rainbow-nerdss @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples and @theotherbuckley

from his canine teeth in the side of my neck aka the vampire!eddie au:

“Yeah, get outta here – and put a leash on that little bloodbag slut – " Eddie didn’t even have time to think about it – he’d shoved Buck behind him and slammed the guy against the wall, hand on his trachea, before humans could blink.  “Say one more word,” Eddie crooned, fangs descending, vision crystallizing as his eyes shifted black. “Go on. Say one. More. Word.”  He could barely feel the man’s nails scrambling at his wrist; could barely smell the acrid scent of piss as the man soaked his pants; could barely hear the man’s trembling pleas for mercy. Adrenaline was coursing through this pig’s veins, souring his blood as glutamate flooded his hypothalamus, but even the putrid stench of him made something sing within Eddie. He was a predator. This man was prey.  “Eddie.”  Buck. “Eddie, we have to go – you have to let him go, come on – ” He could smell him – soft and metallic and decadent – but soured, too. Eddie’s hands twitched, his gaze still locked on the wide-eyes of the assailant.  Buck was afraid.  Eddie was scaring him. 

from the currently untitled teen wolf/911 crossover:

Now it was the kid’s turn to give Eddie an appraising once-over, shifting his weight from leg to leg the way Buck did when he was waiting on the go-ahead to sprint into a burning building. “Yeah, that’s not gonna work, actually. Look, I know you can hear me, Derek, so why don’t you get your furry behind over here so we can – ” Eddie opened his mouth to tell the kid Derek couldn’t hear him because they were the only ones in the engine bay, when Derek’s voice growled out from behind him. “Stiles.”  The kid stilled, his eyes locking on something just over Eddie’s shoulder. A humourless smile crossed his face. “Long time no see, Sourwolf.”  Eddie glanced over his shoulder, wondering how Derek managed to sneak up on him.  Derek was standing with preternatural stillness, a look on his face that sent a chill down Eddie’s spine. His gaze was locked on the kid, and even though Derek was his… something, and the kid seemed cocky and was clearly unwelcome, something in that look made Eddie want to get between them, get the kid behind him, not take his eyes off the threat.  Eddie blinked. Derek wasn’t a threat.  It seemed like someone forgot to tell his gut that, though.  The squeaky sound of wet sneakers echoed through the bay. “Hey, someone’s sick Jeep is blocking the – ”  Buck jogged around the ambulance, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder, and stopped when he saw the tableau before him: Derek, half a step behind Eddie, looking ready to maul the scrawny kid in the hoodie, who was staring at the firefighters with a too-knowing look. Buck turned to Eddie instantly, blue eyes wide and brow furrowed in question. “Uh, Derek? Who’s your friend?”  The kid blinked and turned to Buck, with an easy smile, sticking out his hand. “Special Agent Stiles Stilinski, FBI. Old pal of Derek’s.” 

and from The Bottle Episode:

That was how Tommy found them. Buck glanced up and saw him striding through the ambulance bay, eyebrows raised, carrying two laden drink trays with ease.  Buck leaped out of the front seat with a grin. “You brought me a smoothie?”  “I brought all of A-shift a smoothie,” Tommy corrected.  “Yeah, but mostly me, right?” Buck wheedled, reaching out for him.  Tommy side-stepped his grabby hands. “Yours is the green one, in the middle,” he said, nodding towards it. As if it wasn’t obvious. The things had really grown on Buck during the weeks he was waiting on his sperm donation, and it was the only kelly green concoction in a sea of pale pinks. “Everyone else, I went with the classics.”  “But you got mine special,” Buck teased, tucking the straw between his teeth, “because I’m your favourite.”  Tommy shook his head wryly. “I don’t know. Eddie’s never asked me to drive all over town like an errand boy.”  “And I never will,” Eddie’s voice chimed in from over Buck’s shoulder. “Strawberry banana?”

under the cut there's a snippet from what i'm cooking for five alarm fest (not telling you which one yet hehehe) and i'm tagging back everyone who tagged me this week ilu!!!!!!!

“O-okay,” Evan breathed, his hands tightening on Tommy’s thighs, his hole twitching around the base of Tommy’s cock. “Y-you – you can take the blindfold off.” Tommy squeezed Evan’s hips one more time before lifting one hand to rip the satin from his eyes, ready to dive forward and get his mouth on that spot on the back of Evan’s neck that made him whine, eager to take in the sight of – Tommy’s breath caught in his throat.  There was the broad expanse of Evan’s solid, muscular back, speckled with scars; a little trail of sweat was dripping from his hairline down between his shoulder blades; and just above where his tight little ass was vice-like around Tommy cock was…

[junemermaid]

[six sentences sunday] mlc fic snippet

Soooo after a thousand years of fandom monogamy I am having mad summer flings with a number of new fandoms, so hi, MLC tumblr, have a post-canon pre-ot3 morsel:

"You're asleep sitting up." For want of anything else to say, Di Feisheng states the obvious. "Not yet, Lao Di," Li Lianhua mumbles. For a breath, Di Feisheng almost misses the flippant fondness of A-Fei. "Is Xiaobao back yet?" "If he was, you'd know." "Mmm, that's true. Subtlety has never become Fang Xiaobao." Li Lianhua lifts his head at Di Feisheng's nudge. "Nothing in this village that he couldn't take in a fight," Di Feisheng says, gruff, and winds up the long coil of Li Lianhua's hair, then tucks the pin neatly into it. The loose bun wouldn't withstand a fight, but it'll keep the damp hair away from the back of his neck. "You'll check on him if he doesn't get back soon, won't you?" "Between you two, I can't tell who's the nagging wife and who the worried grandmother." "We trade, of course." Li Lianhua smiles up at him, that scant curve of his lips that intimates he knows something Di Feisheng doesn't. It has soft edges, though. "Thank you. For the lending of your hands."

tbc as soon as these fools stop talking and stalling my conclusion

[count-alucard-tepes]

Headcanons and a short fanfic for the 7th fang of Metsudo, Takayama Minoru😷

He, Agito, J and Omori always spend sundays together as it's their day off so they train together, go for lunch and then go to a bar. They drag Kanoh there no matter what.

He is a motorhead and wants to do a roadtrip with his new motorcycle soon.

He doesn't mind the scars on his mouth but he doesn't like to scare others so he uses the mask for others outside the bodyguards and the Katahara family

He's really shy around women and tends to blush which gets him teased by J all the time.

His hair is naturally wavy so when its cut too short, it looks a mess.

A day off...

Being a bodyguard meant always dressing your best and that meant having a lot of black suits and white shirts. Minoru was in need of some white shirts since he has a bad habit of spilling his coffee on his shirts or staining it with the blood of Metsudo's enemies.

He was heading off to the mall when he bumped into J at the bodyguards apartments on the Katahara property, "...where you heading off to?", he asked out curiosity as he noticed Minoru had his regular clothes on rather than his usual suit.

"...off to the mall to get some clothes, what about you? Annoying the other bodyguards as usual", Minoru asked playfully as he was on friendly terms with Captain J.

"Very funny, I need to get some stuff at the mall too...mind if I join you?", he asked as Minoru nodded, "...let's go".

He decided to take his motorcycle out for spin as he hadn't had the time to ride it in a while and of course J sat behind him and wrapped his arms around Minoru's waist.

"...oh man, this is usually reserved for the ladies but here I am holding you like this...I'm honoured", J teased.

Minoru blushed in response, "...just shut up and make sure you don't fall off".

When they arrived, they agreed to meet up for lunch in a hour or so before going their separate ways.

Minoru arrived at the shop for his tailor made shirts when he noticed the usual tailor wasn't there, instead it was another young individual that he had not met before, "Good morning, my father is out today so I'll be here to take your measurements...I'm Y/N", you said with a little smile as you placed the measuring tape around your neck.

"I see, that's no problem at all...I usually get them delivered to the Katahara mansion when they're ready", Minoru said gently as he stood in a spot to get measured.

"Ah so you are one of the bodyguards then, Misasa was here not too long ago...", Y/N said gently as you began taking his measurements, standing on a little ladder as he was way too tall.

"Guess you didn't need to ladder for him then...", he said with a little smile.

Y/N laughed in response, "...a rarity when it comes to the bodyguards...or so my father has told me".

Minoru couldn't help but let out a little laugh, "...dynamite comes in small packages...".

Y/N finished measuring him up before bringing a range of fabrics and different colors as Minoru took a seat on the couch and helped himself to a bottle of water.

"I am very aware that the standard uniform includes a white shirt but the fabric could be different too...and you could add some color for your personal wardrobe...I've been researching on what colors suit people best and I'd love to present this to you too", Y/N said with big, wide puppy eyes that made Minoru blush under his mask.

How could he say no to that?!

He was very much white shirt type of guy even in his regular clothes, he wasn't what he would call fashionable in anyway.

"...I'm not good with fashion...", he admitted, "...so go ahead and let's see what we come up with".

Y/N clapped their hands excitedly and began showing him fabrics and colors that would best suit him. Though it was all very exhausting, he quite liked all the pieces they came up with. He now understood why all the female bodyguards liked shopping, it felt good to spoil yourself but he would never tell anyone that...especially not J.

Once he was done at the store, he paid for him items, "Oh before you go...I'd like you to have this...its a gift for being my first customer!", Y/N said with a big smile as they handed him the box.

He looked at it curiously before opening it. Inside was a fancy pen with gold details. He liked it a lot.

"Thank you, I appreciate all your hard work", he said gently before bowing and leaving to go find J.

It didn't take him long to find him at the restaurant, waving at him, "...this is a nice place", he commented as he took a seat across from J.

"Yeah, I came here with some of the bodyguards, the food is real nice...so how'd it go?", he asked as Minoru looked at the menu.

"...pretty good, the tailor was out so his kid was running the shop...they were pretty detailed", he murmured.

"...ooooohhh, did they catch your eye, Takayama?", J asked teasingly as he looked over his sunglasses at him.

Minoru huffed in response, "...oh shut up! And we're indoors! Take off the sunglasses, you creep".

J laughed in response as he was glad Minoru enjoyed his time at the tailor's.

Minoru would use that pen all the time and keep it in his coat pocket from then. He even started wearing those colored shirts on his days off and got many compliments.

Perhaps he'll visit the store again and request Y/N to help him out.

[cupidssorbet]

Alright cherubs it’s Wednesday, a busy one at that and I feel like feeding ya’ll your stuff, but just know this Sunday a rather longgg Miguel fic is coming! Anyways! Enjoy some prideful Miguel!

“C’monnn, Dime cuánto te gusta.(Tell me how much you like it.)” You shook your head, tears brimming at the edge of your eyes as he teasingly worked his fingers in you. Bringing his tongue down to tease your clit, his lips & fangs gleaming with your slick. You’d genuinely lost count with how many times you’d come from his tongues and fingers. A prideful little smirk at his lips when he saw your fucked up state and the bite marks all along your thighs. You cried out your hand coming to rest over your mouth. “No, no, no hagas eso, vamos, haz ruido.(No, no, don't do that, come on, make some noise.)”

He pulled his fingers out and you let out a whine causing him to tsk at you, he situated himself behind you and then that feeling came back ten fold. His girthy cock filling you up. “Miguel, Miguel!” You sobbed as he leaned back against the headboard. His large hands on your hips. “That’s it, That’s it Querido(Darling).” He groans in your neck, his fangs finding your shoulder.

Fin

I might finish this cherubs! Anyways eat up! &lt;3

[sunwarmed-ash]

WIP Wednesday

hey @double-dorks-beanie I finished your prompt 😈 it'll be this weeks sinful sunday! Here's a little teaser for your patience 😘

Tags: Harringrove, Vampire!Billy, Human!Steve, Post Starcourt

It never matters what the fight is about, it always ends the same way. Violent, and bloody. But things have been different since Starcourt. Billy’s different. And he can’t really tell anyone why.  The only thing that’s remained the same is his fights with Harrington. No matter what, they always find a way under the other's skin, and when they do, the fists come out.  Tonight is no different.  Well, minus the fact Billy can now hear Steve’s pulse, pounding in his ears like it was being played out of a speaker turned two knobs past Max Volume.  Its making it incredibly difficult to follow through with the punch to Harrington's jaw he’s currently lined up for. Because, if he makes Steve bleed… 

Billy’s hesitation is not missed. Three seconds pass as quickly as ten years.  They’ve been close like this before, sure, but usually only for the few seconds before the other lands a blow.  This is the longest they’ve ever occupied the same breath and something in the atmosphere changes. Ignites hot. Harrington’s eyes fall to his lips. At first, Billy’s terrified his fangs have descended anyway. But to his utter befuddlement, the other jock is pulling him forward, slipping one hand around his back and the other around his neck until he can pull Billy’s lips to his.   Steve’s rapid pulse booms even louder in Billy’s ears. It's driving the blonde positively insane and if he doesn’t break this up now his teeth are going in Harrington’s neck whether he wants it or not.  Billy tries to push back, but his own desire, curiosity, and need is keeping their bodies together a little longer.  “Steve…” Billy pants, because his fangs have dropped and his jaw aches with need to bite. Billy’s weak. He’s so fucking weak, and now Steve’s grinding against his dick and it’s making his bloodlust burn even hotter.   “It’s okay,” Steve says.  Billy groans conflictedly. He can’t hold back anymore, he just hopes Steve will forgive him.  One of Billy’s hands grip Steve’s hip hard while the other snakes up the back of his neck and buries in the thicket of chestnut curls. The next moment Billy’s fist clenches vice tight and yanks back. Then his fangs are piercing into the pulse point of Steve’s throat.  Steve's mouth drops open and he lets out the most beautiful, pained groan in response.  The relief Billy feels is immediate. The ringing in his skull that has been plaguing him for days making him a huge asshole is gone. But he also feels like a piece of shit. He shouldn't have done this. Put Steve in this position.  But there's no going back now. There's no way to undo this moment.  But to Billys surprise, Steve doesn't shove him off, or ask him to stop, instead he grips Billy’s hip harder.  Billy takes another pull and Steve’s legs buckle and another gasping cry falls out of his mouth.

Read the rest on ao3 this Sunday!! 😈

What's Sinful Sunday?

Ao3 * Ko-fi