#goth fanfic

[kirkwhore]

Type O Negative: VIP Treatment

You've been following Type O Negative on tour, and tonight you get luckier than you ever dreamed.

CW: unprotected piv (wrap it before u tap it, friends!), fem!reader, exhibitionism, degradation, overstimulation, dubcon (everyone is drunk), fingering, use of y/n

word count: 1.8k

18+ ONLY (MINORS SCRAM)

You went to the concert knowing in your gut that something about tonight would be different. You’d been following Type O Negative on their tour for the past four months, and you could swear that Peter Steele was singing right to you at every show. You had locked eyes with him several times during “Love You to Death”, and he had actually winked at you during “Be My Druidess.” At least, you thought so.

You were beginning to feel delusional… until he beckoned you toward the stage during their last number. It was like walking through a dream – you felt like you were floating through the crowd, never taking your eyes off of him. Peter met you in the crowd and gently lifted your face with a finger under your chin. He recited the poem in “Haunted” to you alone. You could feel other women glaring daggers at your back, but you didn’t care. Nothing existed outside of him. You felt yourself leaning into him, completely dazed.

He kissed you in front of everyone. There was a hunger behind the kiss that promised more.

Before returning to the stage, he leaned down and spoke softly into your ear.

“Meet me backstage.” Just those three words, but they were enough to send you running through the sea of witnesses to the best night of your life.

You were playing with a strand of your hair nervously when you heard the screams. The show was over. Peter was headed your way at last.

He grabbed your hand without a word and led you back to the green room with the rest of the band.

They all relaxed back on the plush couches while you stood in the doorway, frozen in awe.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” he purred.

“Y/n,” you replied, voice trembling. This had to be a fucking dream; there was no way this was actually happening. Right?

“Y/n. What a beautiful name.” The way it rolled off his tongue like velvet made your thighs clench involuntarily. He gestured for you to come closer.

“Come. Sit.” He was pointing at his lap. Your face felt hot and you were embarrassed by the smirks of the other guys, but you complied anyway. Your short skirt didn’t cover your ass when you sat down and you could feel his stiff cock pulsing against the thin fabric of your panties. The wetness pooling between your thighs threatened to stain his pants. With every deep, rumbling laugh, you felt your pussy clenching around nothing, leaving you with a desparate need to be filled up. It was agony to have to sit still for so long, making polite conversation. Peter knew exactly what he was doing to you, and he made every excuse to fidget and press himself into your ass even harder. The more wine you drank, the more confident you felt. You wanted to tease him back, rocking your hips ever so slightly against his length. You felt strong fingers dig into your hips; a hiss of pleasure escaped his lips.

Peter lifted you to your feet.

“Take them off,” he commanded. “Your panties, give them to Kenny.” You could feel the blush creeping up your neck as both humiliation and pleasure fought for dominance in your body.

“I –”

“Is there a problem?” he said, cocking his head to one side.

“N-no,” you stuttered, your heart pounding. You slowly rolled the waistband of your panties down, exposing yourself to Peter as you bent to free them from your legs. He swiped one deft finger between your folds before you could straighten up. A moan bubbled from your throat before you could stop it. The men laughed as you tentatively handed over your underwear.

When you turned back around, you were shocked to find him naked already, beckoning you back over.

“Don’t take your eyes off of me when your back is to them, and do what you’re told. Think you can do that?” It was a simple question but your reply was trapped in your throat.

“You can always back out, you know,” Peter said more softly. “Don’t let me make you feel trapped.” As much stage fright as you were feeling, you realized that you actually wanted them to watch you be used like a useless fucktoy.

“No, I can do this,” you replied, voice trembling again.

“Good girl.” His smile was all the encouragement you needed. “Now, get on your knees. Wanna see how pretty you look gagging on my cock.” He started slow, easing his way between your lips. You swirled your tongue around the head, lapping up the salty pre-cum leaking from his tip. Peter growled and pushed himself deeper, rougher this time. You really did gag then, and tears stung your eyes. That seemed to turn him on more, and he tangled your hair in his fingers, guiding you back and forth as he fucked your face. You could hear skin slapping in the background. The rest of the bandmates were jacking off. Their moans made your pussy clench even harder.

Once he was done making your mascara run in rivers down your cheeks, Peter dragged you to your feet by your hair and spun you to look at the others. He pushed your skirt up and ripped your shirt open, exposing you to them.

“Isn’t she so pretty?” Peter tugged at your nipples hard, pinching them between his fingers, sending a ripple of pleasure and pain through your body. “And so wet for us, too. Such a fucking slut.” He pulled you down onto his lap once more, spreading your legs wide to give the guys a front row seat to your dripping cunt as he fingered you. The sounds that ripped out of you were animalistic and filthy. You would’ve been humiliated if you weren’t so fucking turned on.

Just when you were on the precipice of falling apart, Peter’s relentless assault on your clit stopped abruptly. You whined, wanting to cry at the sudden lack of stimulation. He laughed, watching you thrust your hips against the air pathetically. He forced you to gag on his thick fingers covered in your slick while you watched one of the others masturbate into your panties. Someone had already finished in them. You could see the pearly cum sliding down the gusset.

You were once again lifted to your feet and whirled around to face Peter before he pushed you backwards onto the couch. He climbed on top of you, caging your face in with his bulging forearms.

“I’m gonna make you cum over and over until you can no longer speak, y/n. But only if you keep those beautiful eyes on me, remember?” His pupils were dilated with lust. He looked like a supernatural creature in that moment, more vampire than man. You could only nod. Your heart was in your throat as he leaned down to press passionate kisses into your neck. Your legs were hiked up over his shoulders, and he slowly, slowly pressed his cock into your heat. You had seen that issue of Playgirl, so you knew he was big… but a picture didn’t do it justice. Feeling him stretch you out was a euphoria like no other. It was certainly worth the pain that came with it. Your moans became screams as he hit that spot deep inside that made you see stars. You wanted so badly to close your eyes, but he held your face in one hand and you knew there would be consequences to looking away. He was panting openmouthed over you, and his friends were moaning your name. The sound of Peter’s balls slapping into you and the unholy noise your cunt was making filled the room.

“Fuck, I’m gonna -” you tried to warn him, but your senses were leaving you. “fuckfuckFUCK I’m gonna cum,” you spat just before the tightly wound coil deep inside snapped, releasing a flood. That was a first – you’d never squirted before. You squeezed tightly around him, and he grunted out your name before you felt him paint your insides with his cum. You were both a sticky mess but he didn’t stop.

“Want me to make you feel good again, baby?” Peter whispered sweetly like he wasn’t using you for his friends’ amusement. You tried to nod but he held your head in place. “No. Use your words.”

“Yes, yes please,” you whined, bearing down on him in desperation. He turned to his friends and laughed.

“Y/n wants to keep going. You wanna see her tits bounce?” The subsequent wolf whistles gave him his answer. You were a puppet in his arms – pliant, obedient. You let him flip you onto your hands and knees.

“Everyone got a good view?” Peter asked. The enthusiastic cheering was all he needed. He plunged back into you and grabbed your hips for leverage, using you like a fleshlight. Your tits hurt from the force of his thrusts, slapping your chest with every bounce. It wasn’t long before you had your second orgasm. Your body went slack. You were tired, thirsty, and overstimulated. Peter chased his release and came inside again. You tried to remember if you had taken your birth control this morning, but your head was so fuzzy from the wine and the pleasure that you couldn’t even remember your own name.

He moaned again before addressing his audience. “Fuck, she’s so tight. And all mine, too.” All his? Your brain slammed back into reality. Suddenly you felt sober. It was only all you had dreamed of since you were an obsessed teen. You turned to look back at him.

He reached out to stroke your mascara-stained cheek. “You like that? Well, if you keep following us on tour, you can be. But just me and you next time – if you’d prefer.” Before you could reply, he slipped out of you. You eyed the soaked panties that had made their way onto the coffee table. The guys were finished with them. You moved to pull your clothes back on, but Peter’s nimble fingers stopped you.

“You have a good time?”

You answered enthusiastically, wanting to please him enough for him to keep you around.

“We’re not done yet, then. That’s not what I promised – until you can’t speak, remember?” He pulled you back down as the others filed out of the room. Peter laughed as you gave in; it sent a shiver down your spine. On his command, you knelt in front of him.

It was nearly sunrise when the cab pulled up to take you home. You ached all over, but you had never felt more alive – or more giddy – in your life. You had earned that VIP pass, and you intended to use it over and over and over again

[samiwife]

Studying Hours ੈ✩‧₊˚ (Robert Smith x Reader)

A/N: Hello! Hope everyone is okay! Thanks 4 all the support on recent stories <3 Hope you guys enjoy this one <3

𓆩♡𓆪= Smut

ੈ✩‧₊˚= Fluff

⋆ ★= Angst

Studying in the library became the norm for you when you started college. Every day, you would go to the library to study for upcoming exams or just to read a book you never read before. But, there was an alternative reason for coming to the library every day. It was him. You didn't know his name but you could describe how he looks all day long. He had black hair that was in a mess. His hair is what made you notice him. His eyes were also so notable.

He had blue eyes that shined so brightly. His smile also caught you dead in your tracks. He had one sharp tooth that stood out. Not to mention, his makeup. His makeup is what made him so unique. He wore light red lipstick and eyeliner. You thought he looked so beautiful. You wanted to know him but you were always too scared or busy to.

One day, you finally had a plan to talk to him. Your plan was to sit next to him and chat with him. But you felt your hands shake even before entering the library. You walked down the street towards the library, you opened the doors, and scanned your entrance card to get in. When you walked in, you already saw him sitting at the usual table he sits at.

He always has a book with him or some sort of sketchbook. You didn't want to look weird so you did the usual thing of grabbing a book off the shelf and walking by him. You grabbed a random book and began walking back. But this time, you weren't walking to your seat. You were going to sit next to him. So you did, you walked past him and pulled out the chair next to him. He turns his head to see who's sitting next to him. He looks up and makes eye contact with you.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is there anyone sitting here?" You asked while still standing. You weren't really sorry, you planned this all out already. "Oh no, it's all yours, darling." He said while smiling and gesturing for you to sit down. You sat next to him and opened the book you were reading. It was a book about music. "I'm Y/N," you said to him putting out your hand for him to shake. He turns and smiles. "I'm Robert," He said while shaking your hand. You finally knew his name.

"I see you reading about music, you play any instruments?" Robert asks while eyeing your book. You gulped nervously because you just grabbed a random book that you knew nothing about. Plus, you had no musical talent. "Uh no, but I want to know one day. That's why I'm reading this book." You said while gigging to yourself. Robert smiles wider and looks at you deeply.

"Well, I play in a band and I won't mind teaching you some stuff about music. If you want." Robert said while laying his book down. You blush at the thought of Robert teaching you about music. You've been eyeing him for months and now he might be teaching you something that you barely knew anything about. Then out of nowhere, a burst of confidence rushes over you. You smile and scoot closer to Robert. "Are you asking me out on a date Robert?" You said teasingly while smiling at him. Robert's face turned bright red from your question. "Um, I-I mean if you see it like that then y-yes it is a date," Robert said shyly while hiding his face a bit. You chuckled at the sight of him being shy, you held his hand, leaned closer, and whispered in his ears.

"Darling, you're so cute. Why don't you call me and we can schedule a date sometime." You said lowly in Robert's ear causing his face to turn redder than before. You slide over a small note with your phone number inside. You got up and packed up your things and winked at Robert and walked off. You turned your head one last time to look at Robert one last time, he was smiling widely and holding the note close to his chest. You walked out of the library feeling proud of yourself and hopeful that Robert will call you.

[bebx]

people who use dog as a metaphor for love or loyalty or hunger or desperation or violence or devotion, I am kissing you on the mouth with tongue

[ladythornofrivia]

Me: no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponent al, logarithmic, while i gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cow girl, doggy, backwards, forwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick thribbing, first clenching, ear rining, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling. teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip bitting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, cant walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail stractching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tangos, step on me and I would say thank you.

[bridanunes88]

My new toy is here!🍆😍

[fukutomichi]

Sam Hazeldine as Adar S2.E8 ∙ Shadow and Flame

[tragic-vaudeville]

realest ao3 note i've ever seen

[whiskeyghoul]

She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid X Goth!reader]

A/N: self indulgent little fic here. I have been in a writing slump for a few weeks and needed to do something just a little self indulgent. So we have this which has been on my mind for ever. I love Abby Sciuto from NCIS and thought how fun it would be to see our little nerd fall in love with the alternative lab rat of the FBI. This is not proof read or anything so it might not be the absolute best but I just wanted to put something out here again.

WC: 1737

Tags: fluff, crush, first meeting, love at first sight possibly, multiple parts, opposites attract, self indulgent fic, reader is described as female, reader is alternative

Warnings: Mention of human remains.

Read part 2 here, read part 3 here

The music coming from the lab was muffled. Even through the closed door Spencer could hear the barely legible lyrics as he got closer and closer. As he reached the door and knocked there seemed to be no answer. Certain his knocking wouldn’t be heard over the noise that he now recognized as Siouxsie and the banshees. He opened the door. As soon as the barrier between him and the music was lifted it sounded so clear. It was turned up to 11 and he wondered how anyone could even focus with music that loud.

That was until he saw you, swaying along to the music, the white coat exaggerated the movements. Swishing from side to side as you reach for a pasteur pipette while bobbing your head along to the music. You seemed absorbed in the music, focussed on your work leaning over the bench and carefully dripping a clear substance on a piece of paper while still perfectly on beat with the music. Spencer cleared his throat loudly, hoping to make himself known before he interrupted you in whatever you seemed to be doing. Though it didn’t quite reach the decibel level to alert you. “L/N” he called out your last name but once again no response. So he took a few steps closer. Once Spencer was close enough he reached out and softly tapped your shoulder. You jumped in response, whirling around in shock with the pipette in your hands raised like a weapon. Like somehow you would be able to defend yourself with the lab instrument. A yelp falling from your lips. 

“Oh my god! Can’t you knock!” You accused, eyes wide as you placed your free hand on the top of your chest, taking a deep breath. “I did. I also tried to clear my throat to not scare you.” Spencer retorted, his voice raised a little louder so you could hear him over the music. You twirled around, placing the pipette in the holder. “I’m Doctor Reid, from the BAU.” He continued loudly. You turned, holding your left hand up to shush him. Your right fishing the remote from your coat pocket. It gave Spencer some time to look you over. 

Your lab coat was about the only light thing you wore. The outfit underneath was black on black on black. A band tee with illegible writing that peeked over a corset, layered with a ripped fishnet top underneath. The abundance of necklaces of all different lengths, cascading down your neck like silver waterfalls. Ripped jeans he wasn’t quite sure were safe for the lab environment, but the skin of your thigh caught his attention. Something inside of him stirring. He fidgeted with his hands in front of his body.

“So… you were saying?” You spoke. Spencer’s eyes snapped back to your face. You looked up at him with big eyes, a small smile accompanying them. The music was turned down now giving him room to think. Though your eyes still made it difficult to really focus. “Oh, I am Doctor Reid, from the BAU.”  He answered after swallowing for a moment. “Ah! You are here for the clothing analysis, right? Penelope mentioned one of the team would come pick it up. Normally it's her or Derek, though I think Derek has complained about hearing loss.” You whirled around while rambling on, pony tail waving behind as you turned, bounding over to a table with scattered papers. Spencer followed close behind, not focussing on the words rather just the tone of your voice, a slight intrigue towards you. He didn’t even know your first name, yet somehow your mannerisms, your unconventional style, it made him want to know more. “Right.” He said, realizing he hadn’t technically answered your questions. 

Spencer looked over your shoulder as you picked up a stack of papers neatly stapled together. He thought he might be a bit too close as he could smell the subtle perfume wafting off of you. Though he also strangely enjoyed it. It was sweet but not overly so. A hint of cherry that was fitting in his eyes. The color of the fruit matching that of your lipstick. As you looked over the paper and began to talk again, “So, the substance that was on the clothes seems to be turpentine. Commonly used in oil painting. The vapors can already cause irritation to the eyes, skin, and airways if exposed to them for longer periods of time.” you rambled off the words as you read them. “There were some other things found on the clothes that coincide with the oil painting. Different pigments and paint residue.” You turned, eyes still on the paper nearly bumping into Spencer as he had been standing so close. When you looked up at him surprised he could feel a tightening in his chest. “Oops, sorry.” You apologized, a small smile on your lips.

You apologized to him while he was the one in your way. “Oh it was my fault. Shouldn’t have stood so close. Sorry.” He muttered. The words falling from his lips unceremoniously. He felt like half of his intelligence had up and left his brain as he talked to you. Not really knowing what to say at that moment. His hands fidgeted at his sides again. His left hand playing with the hem of his cardigan sleeve. He cursed himself internally for being reduced to a stumbling mess in front of you. You kept standing there though. Clearly you had turned around to go somewhere and Spencer had been in your way. Yet he was nailed in place and so, it seemed to him, were you. “Did you know they used to make oil paints with human remains?” You spoke excitedly. Like you had been waiting to tell someone, anyone, that little fact. He knew that. He knew that for a long time yet seeing you, tell him a fact with such delight, made him want to lie. “Now I do.” He answered, his smile matching yours.

“It was called mummy brown. They ground up mummies, both human and animal, and put it in the paint.” You continued. Your voice trailing off slightly after the word animal. You held up the stack of papers to him. “Everything you need is in there. If you need me to clarify something just give me a call. Or stop by whenever you want.” Spencer nods after your sentence. Taking the papers from you his hand touched yours ever so slightly. His brain short circuited for a moment before the neurons started firing accordingly again. “I eh- I don’t have your number.” he stumbled over the words.

As if you realized that in that moment you took a step aside and walked past him. Walking over to a desk and rummaging through a drawer. Spencer walked a bit closer to your desk. No longer being nailed in place by some unspeakable force. You pulled out a thin sharpie, and Spencer raised a brow ever so slightly at that. You walked back over, holding out your hand to grasp his. Spencer placed his hand in yours. His mouth felt incredibly dry for a moment. His tongue was uncomfortable in his mouth. His heartbeat raced faster. Nothing like he had ever really felt before. You could have done it on the papers, or maybe even a sticky note. Yet you decided that his hand would be the perfect place to write down your number. He thought about it for a moment, your hand was soft and warm. You twisted his hand, writing down your phone number along with your name. Once you finished you let go off his hand. Spencer looked at the black numbers, committing them to memory, and your name. God your name would be bouncing around his head for days. “Y/N.” He said, testing the name. It felt right.

“That’s me, you better put that in your phone. These markers are not nearly as permanent on skin. It’s the oils.” You went on, capping the marker as you spoke. “I will. Thank you.” Spencer said and smiled. He stayed standing in place for another moment. Trying to commit you to memory just in case his eidetic memory failed him. He realized he was staring a little and cleared his throat. “I eh… I have to go.” pointing his thumb to the door. You giggled a little, a sound that made Spencer’s cheek heat up a little. “Right, pretty boy, head on out. I need to get back to work too.” You smiled casually. Spencer’s face was only heating up more. He swallowed. The nickname the others used for him sounded so much better when it came from you. He turned around to hide his ever heating face from your sight, walking over to the door quickly. Once in the opening he quickly looked back, giving an awkward wave that you returned with a smile. 

When Spencer entered the bullpen his face had calmed down a little. Not feeling nearly as hot as before. He was able to think clearly again, but when he looked at your number and name on his hand he felt giddy inside. Reaching his desk he sat down, placing the analysis file on his desk. “That took you long enough, pretty boy.” Derek called out from his desk, humor in his voice. The nickname had no effect when he said it. “Sorry, the lab tech… she was explaining some things to me.” Spencer quickly lied. “Alright, can I get the file?” Derek had his hand already out. Spencer gave him the file and Derek’s brows raised at the number scribbled on his hand. “You got her number?” He smirked. Spencer pulled his hand back covering the numbers and your name with his other hand. “If something needed more clearing up.” He retorted. Derek merely chuckled at his awkwardness, “She’s friends with Garcia, you wouldn’t have needed her phone number.” He added with a smirk. Spencer felt his face heat up a little again, embarrassed. He knew that. He knew that he had known that. But in that moment he couldn’t think.

He looked back at his hand. Your name on his skin. A little flutter in his chest kicked up when he did. Derek cleared his throat, making Spencer look up again. Derek pointed at him with his pen, before opening his mouth. “You better call her soon.”

[nemesyaaa]

bones and all au // rafe cameron x reader

summary : “ you're so handsome when I'm all over your mouth. ” strangers by ethel cain.

warnings : if you were not comfortable with the movie by luca guadagnino, don't read this !! mature plot. a lot lot lot of blood. sick and gore attitude. cannibalism used as a form of love. strangers/ode to eaters by ethel cain muse. smut. pomegranate used as a metaphor of cannibalism. jealousy. mentions of organs and anatomy. some b&a refs but you can read it without watching the movie. violence. minors DNI. +18.

author's note : crdits to @starfxkrreloaded for this au. you can reach for her ode to eaters au which is very insane ! please, i know this is very twisted but don't send hate or be mean in the comments. if you dont want to read something like that, it's your right and i respect it, just scroll. to the rest, hope you will enjoy. it's my first time writing something like that so i'm kinda nervous. and by the way, the movie is very beautiful, taylor russell was incredible in this. i highly recommend you.

you lived in an old house in the midwest, the southern gothic type with an empty fridge, broken stairs, carcasses of eaten animals in the garden, a tv too old to be turned on, a radio player too damaged to be listened to , a completely dirty kitchen with dishes full of dishes in the sink, and nasty dirts on the floor. there was also that damn lamp that flickered and came on every other time, that icy water that froze your bones, that cold tiles that creaked under your feets. the windows were rarely open but when they were, the shutters slammed against the wind, your underwear hung over the radiator. but you really liked this place, in fact, it was the only place you could call home without wanting to collapse in tears.

you had your headphones on in that empty quiet space, and a probably dead singer in your ears living through your swaying body. you found this pomegranate on the table while searching. it was intact, still shiny and full of good things.

you didn't need a knife when you had a hungry beast inside you to cut the fruit with your teeths. you had dug your molars inside the seeds, directly into the fresh and virgin skin, opened the eviscerate flesh, tearing away everything you can with your mouth, the still delicious juice ready to feed your thirst and starved your hunger.

you smelled the fruity and juicy scent through your nose, splitted open the pomegranate, discovering the clean and clear inner bones, a pretty red color, even more oozing and sublime than your blood, a perfect complexion reminiscent of the sanguinary meat of your anatomy. your tongue and teeth were sunk in, completely buried in the dripping morsel. your face and cheeks were full of it, shining onto your dirty and sticky fingers. the juice burst, squeezed in your hands as you devoured this fruit, the liquid of which flowed, dripping down your neck and chest, slipping toward your tummy like an unstoppable river.

you were bad as a demon, but nothing stopped you. you bit and bit like a mad dog into the flesh of the fruit like a piece of meat, extracting with your molars everything that you could recover and stuck in your throat.

the more you ate, the more the fruit bled. but you heard nothing, no lamentations. nothing could stop you from eating, from the rage beating. it was sickly, obscene and depraved.

you looked like such an innocent thing, but inside you, there was nothing like that. and you couldn't fool anyone with your tears and your regrets, because you didn't have any.

you had dropped the pomegranate on the ground, there was nothing left except a broken corpse. you had consumed everything from the flesh to the bones, from the skin to every part.

your dress was stained. you stank of pomegranate as much as sin. there was nothing good in you, and above all, there were too many people in you.

rafe had come home in the night while you were waiting in the armchair in the living room, with this juice stuck to your body. you hadn't moved. for some reason you were faithful to your partner. maybe because he scared you, or because you understood that without him you couldn't survive.

he had thrown the key in the table and came before you.

he came toward you in the same state you had seen him for the first time, covered in blood and with glowing blue dilated eyes. you knew that he had eaten, that he had devoured someone because he was not like you. rafe was worse. he understood that nature was to kill but beyond that, it was something he was trying to teach you as your mentor. that we should not regret giving in to impulses, that if we did not listen to them, they would end up killing us.

that we were originally monsters, and that we had to deal with it. you didn't know if he was telling the truth, if he was right. but he was taller than you. you found a maturity in him that fascinated you, that forced you to listen to him.

he had taken off his shirt, and you looked up at his face. he smelled of blood, that strong, metallic smell that you could sniff from several meters away but especially his because you knew him by heart.

“jesus, don’t look at me like that. you wanted to stay at home, i didn't force you to. ”

“it was a girl. what was she like? did you like it ? ”

you didn't know if it was jealousy, or curiosity. you just knew you didn't like knowing he was with some girls even if it wasn't going to last.

with a smirk but at the same time terribly cold face, he answered you. "if you're that jealous, use that energy and mouth to taste it. maybe, you will have some answers. ”

you got up from the chair to join him. you didn't want to share him, even though you knew there was only you in his life. you knew it because since you knew him, he had never talked about his family, nor contacted relatives in the payphone. then, he rarely spoke about his private life. he often made fun of you, because it was more your type of thing to open up about personal moments. you never knew if he was really listening to you but he stayed until the end of your speech.

eagerly, you kissed him, that girl’s blood sliding against your lips, your mouth capturing rafe’s in a kiss, as your cheeks crushed against his bloody face. “ mine, mine.” you whispered, pushing your tongue against his. “ clean that blood, babe. i can't be yours if she's still here. ” he had slipped his hands under your skirt, pressing the flesh of your ass. he had a ring on, the cold metal playing against your skin. you could smell it, just like what he had eaten before coming home.

he sat on the probably moldy and torn couch in your living room, you were almost his height now that you were sitting on top of him. you were hungry, as much for him as for sex. he made you feel so many things, or it was this jealousy, this thirst within you that made you so hungry. you weren’t really sure.

you took one of his fingers still covered in blood, the recent taste of raw flesh now in your cavity. he had pushed his thumb deeper in your mouth, making you suck the pulp properly. the liquid bleeding against your tongue, as his flesh quickly brushed your cavity, your drooling lips curved around him. he pushed it in until he felt your throat.

he was playing with fire, he was playing with you, because he knew you could bite him at any moment but he had also conditioned you not to.

“so, how is it? ”

“nothing tastes better than you.” you simply replied. “ right ? nothing can be as good as me. ” he said in a mocking tone.

he had undone the strap of your dress, revealing one of your tits which he had taken in his palm before taking it in his mouth. your nipple was pressed between his teeth, your skin trapped in his hand as he sucked on your piece of flesh, pinching it only ever so gently in his mouth. he still had remnants of blood, slipping between your body and his tongue.

there was something sensual between this slow sucking, fast suction of the tongue around your throbbing nipple, your spiraling stomach against the void, the movement of his adam's apple in his throat while he tasted every beads of your boobs. rafe was good at it.

he pressed your tits, grabbed them tightly and firmly against his palm, nibbling the tip, caressing the pulp, kissing the flesh. and maybe if he had bitten into it, you would have cum instantly.

his hand was on you, covering your body in blood and sweat, tracing your figure with his soiled and bloody fingers like a canva, letting them run over your skin like a paintbrush.

he was hidden by your sucked breasts. and you wanted him full. you had started to grind against him, even with your underwear separating you from him and his piece of jeans, you managed to be completely soaked on him. your hips moved in motion, lifting delicately like a porcelain doll too afraid of getting hurt.

you were no worse than him, and he was no worse than you. you were both terrible people. there was no hierarchy among people like you.

but the first time you saw him, in that shirt full of blood, with that mouth so red and that oozing dripping neck.

it was dark, but you knew very clearly what he had done, and perfectly well who he had eaten. you had observed it and you had not seen a monster. you weren't afraid.

he wasn't mean and monstruous, just indifferent.

"if you want to eat, that man is still over there." he said simply, not trying to hide or deny what you were seeing.

and you liked it. you instantly liked it.

“ you're the one who interests me.”

“you know the drill, we don’t eat each other.”

“i mean, will you let me come with you?”

"listen to me carefully, i don't have the face of a babysitter, nor the skills to do so. get by, you may be a minor but if you're old enough to do what you do when mom and dad have their backs turned, i swear, you can get through this on your own. ”

“i’m an adult.” you cut him off.

“your age was a nice excuse for me to tell you that i’m not interested. i bet you're an adult. ”

you had followed him when he approached his pickup. "i wouldn't bother you. but i need help. i mean, this is new to me. i don't do this often while you seem to be experienced. i want.. .i want to be like you, not to be afraid of that.”

“what makes you think i’m the right person for this?”

“you may not necessarily be the right person, but you’re the one I want.”

“you know, i already have a lot of problems, i don’t need a burden on all of them.”

“please. i won’t be one. you have my word.”

"you really don't give me a choice. come up crybaby, but if you bother me, i won't hesitate to abandon you, no matter where."

you nodded. it was going back, but in the meantime, you had traveled to many states of america, and probably left a pile of corpses on your way. even though it hadn’t been easy, he had taught you how to drive.

one cold summer night, in the darkness of a tent in the middle of nowhere, you hadn't managed to sleep. but when you opened your eyes, rafe wasn't sleeping either.

“you should sleep, you’re the one driving tomorrow. ”

“you want to know who my first victim was? "

"i guess even if i don't care, you're going to tell me. so go ahead. knock me out, tell me something your little lips haven't told me yet. and don’t say victim, you're much an innocent thing than a killer. but don’t worry, i'm about to raise you very well. ”

his hands had gripped your hips to position you above him. “but for now, tell me about your boring story, maybe it will help me sleep.”

you had told him a lot of your past. the first time you had eaten someone, the babysitter your father had hired who had ended up torn apart on the floor and another part in your mouth. oh it really wasn't beautiful. and this time, in the summer camp where a boy had mysteriously disappeared because you had devoured him in the woods. and that friend at school whose finger you swallowed. it was stronger than you. you needed to eat.

and rafe was the only one to understand it.

the most intimate moments in a relationship should be sex, but for the two of you it was different. it was when you ate together, when you both had blood around your mouth, that you could taste his, and he could taste yours. when there was this connection between you.

he was a different eater from you, he was bestial and cold, sinking his teeth straight into the flesh, tearing off the parts of the body one by one. his bites were mean and cruel. the way, his teeths pulled the organs, the ribcage. you watched him, his hungry raging mouth embracing the darkness of his needs, ripping all the raw meat out roughly. oh the blood, it leaked into every corner of his pretty and bloody lips that you wanted to kiss so badly, to feel the liquid and flesh filling and consuming the space of your throat and your tongue as your body swallowed everything he gave you. oh how much, rafe loved to feed you directly in the mouth, letting you suck the flowing red wet all around his jaw, and down his neck to the cool grass. he was beautiful. insanely handsome. but also, so scary.

his skin was covered in a red, metallic coat. his eyes were consumed with pleasure, while devouring the body of your victim.

he was very different from you, who was more delicate in your movements, or rather clumsy. your bites were messy, your touches lighter, even with the blood all over you.

but it was in those moments that the sex was the best afterwards. when his tongue, still red and famished with blood, circulated over the skin of your stomach, leaving a reddish river against your flesh.

and it went even further than that, when he found himself lost between your legs, his warmth muscle completely buried inside you, lapping your soaked folds, licking you like a starving man, his mouth pressed around your sloppy wet cunt. your juices dripping against his open wided mouth and jaw, the throbbing of your clit against his nose, the way your beating pussy smeared the blood across his lips and cheeks every time he entered and devoured your delicious slick.

since you didn't eat each other, it was your only way to feed him, to make him taste you. you didn't know if he loved your taste but in any case his tongue always came back to find you, to fuck that cunt, lodging itself between your soggy walls.

he forced you to keep your thighs apart, one hand resting on your bruised tummy which contracted every time you felt him on your core.

your legs shaking around his shoulders, the way his bloody mouth nibbled on your clit. you moaned in the middle of this abandoned place. you could shout as loud as you wanted, no one would come, no one would hear you.

you loved feeling his large hands on your bruised skin, especially after eating, because they were dirty and sloppy. you let your tongue clean the blood stuck to his fingers, the drops falling into your mouth.

it was strange how love can be perceived for everyone. ever since you were a child, you have been unable to show affection without hurting people. when you loved someone, it was tragic because you had this need to devour and consume them, to make them a part of you, to make them live within you.

but for rafe, it was different.

you were total opposites. and even though you lived together, you wondered if he felt things for you. if he had ever been in love.

because you liked to think that the way he kept you around, the way he let you stay with him at night, the way he always came home, and was open to doing all these things with you, that was his way to show you that you mattered to him. you even wondered if he came back every night because he couldn't let go of you. yet, at the beginning of your relationship, he wouldn't have hesitated.

here, in this rickety house, you didn't pay rent. it belonged to one of your victims. you always did that, you killed people, and robbed them of their belongings. you took their money, clothes and possessions. you were stealing the lives of these people. at first you felt guilty but now you feel nothing. it was life.

“i love you. ” you told him, as you straddled him on your shared bed, your fists curled in the pieces of sheets. “i really love you, rafe.” you were moaning and feverish, every inch of his thick cock buried in your core, hitting your spot.

while you were bouncing on him, your ass slapped against his muscular thighs. he grabbed your breasts moving over his face, as his dick was ruining you, each of his thrusts destroying your canal. you were as tight as the first time he fucked you in the back of the pickup. he gripped your ass, pinching the flesh.

he wrapped his hand around your throat before losing his face in your neck, his mouth kissing that immaculate part of your body. he placed kisses, before lightly sinking his teeths into your skin, nibbling and sucking on this skin offered to him, while you continued to take him just below him. “yea, you love me. ” with a hard stroke further into you. “still fucking tied to me. ”

and he wasn't wrong, you were so glued to him, completely submissive. he was inside you, filling you completely, every part of his length stuck to your walls, parting your pussy lips, your moans muffled above his head as your arms wrapped around his back. you were desperate and whimpering, the wet sounds of your repeated moans echoing around the room.

you could feel the twitch of his stomach against your skin, the perfect harmony of your two bodies in sync, he speared you violently with his fat cock, let you hear his grunts and heavy breathing against your neck, coming straight from his throat.

you were sweaty and noisy, like one of his victims, but most of all, you were his, his hands all over your body like a prize. every touch was possessive, your head tilted back, and his mouth melted onto your jaw. he fucked you roughly, making you bounce on him and cry.

his blue eyes shone in the darkness of the room. they were on you, in a perfect focus.

“do you love me? " you asked him, your body going through trembling spasms, your skin covering his. you were desperate and suffocating. your breaths were rapid and frantic.

he moved your head with his hand on your throat, his gaze flickering above your collarbones. you felt like you were pretty with the importance his pupils gave you.

you wondered if he had ever wanted to eat you alive, because after all, even if you were an eater, you were still easy prey.

and maybe even sometimes you fantasized about what he could do, because you wouldn't have minded seeing him dug his teeth into your flesh like meat, seeing him consume you one by one, your bones getting sucked, your blood spurting against his tooth.

you would have loved to sacrifice your body to feed him, to be that pomegranate to him, to see him smile through your organs, to see his belly swell because you were in a thousand pieces inside.

you would have loved for him to eat you alive, because you knew rafe would have done it out of love.

“ don't leave me or i will eat you. ” you said to him, his hands brushing your hair like a lover. “ every part of you. like you taught me. ”

“ bones and all ? ”

“ bones and all, my love. ”

and he smiled, fucking smiled all over your kisses, his lips covered yours.

“ then, what are you waiting for ? sunk those teeths in me. scared for what, babe ? nothing that you have not tasted before.”

[figthoughts]

i really need a dean x goth reader i nEEEED pleaseee <3

ahhHHHH i’m not too familiar with the goth subculture but i hope i did it some justice with this lil quick drabble !! <333

dean winchester and his goth girlfriend—who is infinitely cooler than him—constantly catching the confused and jealous stares from regular shmegular girls whenever they go out together, hand-in-hand, sticking out like sore thumbs in the small towns they visit for a case.

whether it be the dark clothes and makeup, or the big hair that catches people’s eyes, dean doesn’t care. he knows he’s lucked out with his girl.

your extensive knowledge of 70s ‘n 80s rock and grunge music—let’s not forget 00s emo too—makes dean giggle and kick his feet like an excited schoolgirl, finally having someone to nerd out with on all the music he likes.

you spend hours together just discussing your shared interests—every word making dean fall further and further in love with you as he realises how alike you truly are, no matter how differently you present yourselves.

he adores how you simply don’t give a fuck too. your dark eye makeup and the clothing you find in antique vintage stores excite dean in such an inexplicable way. you’re so effortlessly cool; the way you look and dress, but also how you carry yourself day-to-day is just so attractive to him.

he swears you were made for him, always blabbing on about how you and baby match, his “two queens in black” or something silly that makes you shake your head in amusement, secretly enjoying his stupidly sweet comments.

he loves watching you apply your makeup; his jaw always dropped with wide eyes, gaping at you like you’re painting the bloody mona lisa.

“i don’t know how you do that,” dean always murmurs in astonishment, his eyes following the eyeliner in your hand as you perfect your wings. he’d never say so, but the few times he’s allowed you to do his makeup like yours, he’s enjoyed it way more than he thought he would.

your gothic style’s also brushed off on dean a little. it started with the little gifts you’d pick up for him, the random jewellery pieces and old vintage band tees you find at the antique stores you pass on the road. you notice his flannel collection slowly transforming into a pile of dark reds and navies—not to mention every shade of black.

it’s like he’s subconsciously trying to match with you. and damn it, you look good together. even sam thinks so. he thinks it’s nice how dean’s finally found his match in someone who seems so different to him at first glance.

dean truly loves you for you and he wouldn’t change a damn thing about his sweet little girlfriend dressed in black. <3

[teafromthemicrowave]

I just uploaded the first chapter of my goth polycule band au, here is art I made for it<3

CHAPTER 2 WILL FOLLOW TOMORROW!!

[the-fyre-flie]

Superbat Coffee Shop Au, both ways!

Clark is the cute barista that makes Bruce's coffee morning, who's memorized his order and when he comes in and always says "Good morning, Mr Wayne!" and Bruce grunts a "Good morning..." in return as he sips his coffee. Bruce is usually gone before Clark can say anything else, but a few times hes managed to get him to sit down and try one of their cakes.

Bruce as the barista who looks like he might quit his job that very second if anyone other than Clark walks in. The only reason he hasn't burnt the place to the ground is because Clark always raves about how good the pastries are. Bruce has Clark's order already at one the tables every afternoon when he stops by for his lunch break, and at least twice has given it to him on the house.

[little-miss-fandom-freak]

Jayce Talis x Goth!Reader

Here's the 2nd Goth!Reader story as promised, Dr. Phosphorus' is on the way!

The two of you met while he was in the Undercity buying parts for his newest project.

You were a regular in Benzo's shop, selling anything you found while you were out scavenging. You were in the back, looking for something in particular for a project of your own. When you came from the back, Jayce digging through a box of power converters.

"Whos this guy?" You asked as you walked behind the counter.

Ekko shrugged. "Some topsider."

When he finally found the one he needed, Jayce dropped it in his box and slammed it on the counter.

"How much for all this?" He asked.

Ekko looked at you, then back at him. "Um... let me look."

As Ekko looked through the box, the Jayce's gaze drifted to you. You were too busy going through Benzo's knick-knack box to notice, but he was completely infatuated with you. So infatuated, he didn't even hear Ekko tell him the accurate price. When Jayce didn't respond, Ekko took advantage and doubled the price. Jumping out of his thoughts, Jayce quickly paid, and as Ekko happily scurried away, Jayce kept his eyes on you.

Feeling his gaze, you looked up at him through your lashes. "Can I help you?"

He looked almost startled when you acknowledged him. "Oh-um. I was... um... I-I was just... uh, I wa-wanted to say you... you-you look... nice."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his flustered self. "Thanks. Not so bad yourself, Topsider."

"To-Topsider? How-How'd you- I mean, what? Me, top-topsider no! No I'm not..." He realized he wasn't convincing you at all.

You laughed once again. "You're funny. I like that."

"You-You do?" He couldn't believe his luck right now. Grabbing you supplies, you walked around the counter with a pen in your hand. You pulled his hand twords you and wrote down your information on it and without another word, you left.

♡ Your first date with Jayce was to the History of Piltovian Technology Muesum. He felt a little embarrassed by it at first but was thrilled to find out how much you loved it.

♡ He doesn't quiet understand Goth culture (He's the type of person to call anyone wearing a lot of black Goth), but he tries

♡ He builds you little robot creatures and gifts them to you randomly (holiday or not)

♡ Your dynamic is literally the "He asked for no pickles" meme

♡ Let's you practice new makeup styles on him. It sounds since until you realized he cannot sit still at all.

♡ You're basically known around the university pretty early on as Jayce's scary girlfriend.

♡ People think Jayce is haunted after the one time you spent the day on campus with him and Viktor. Several students reported a ghost sighting that day.

♡ Speaking of Viktor, the two of you got along like a house on fire

♡ Being that you both grew up in the Undercity, you both had a similar thought process.

♡ Despite the chaoticness of the two of you, he loved seeing his best friend and lover get along.

♡ He also introduced you to his mom not even a week into dating (even she felt like it was a little early, but she welcomed you with open arms)

♡ Kinda thinks your a witch because of all the "potions" he finds you making (theyre just medicines and face creams)

♡ If you don't live with him, he will visit you almost every single day.

♡ But if you do live with him, or at least stay at his place the most, he will let you have full control over decorating. He's a scientist, not an interior decorator. The most "fun" thing in his apartment was a dead plant on the kitchen windowsill.

♡ Loves wearing your jewelry.

♡ If you're missing a certain ring or bracelet, there's a 99% chance Jayce took it before when left that morning. (He says wearing it feels like having you there spiritually)

♡ One day, he had you meet the Kiraman's. And you were a nervous wreck.

♡ Not only were they Jayce's sponsors, but they were close friends with him, and you didn't want to ruin it.

♡ When Jayce caught you dumbing down you outfit to one thst was more casual, he FREAKED out.

♡ He hated that you felt the need to change yourself. "If they can't see past the makeup, then they're sad for just assuming who you are without even getting to know you." (He made you cry, thank God you didn't have any makeup on)

♡ Caitlyn was a little scared of you, but eased up when she saw the look of pure love in Jayce's eyes everytime he looked at you.

♡ He bases a lot of his designs around you. This lead to many if the Hex-Tech machinery having Gothic-like designs.

♡ He tries so hard to get involved in your intrests, but he doesn't understand it.

♡ Pre-Time jump Jayce gets very sick when it comes to any level if gore, so horror movies were out. He didn't quiet understand the appeal of Goth music, but he loved seeing the way your face lit up when you would explain the song or the band to him

♡ When Jayce left with Himerdinger and Ekko to investigate the Hex Core, he ran into you. He tried his best to explain everything, and he knew you didn't understand but just being able to air it all out calmed him down.

♡ You were already late for work or else you would've went with, so instead you have him your black cuff. It was his favorite because he had a matching pair that was his house colors.

♡ And good thing you gave it to him, it was the only thing that kept him mildly sane when he was in the other timeline.timeliness. He would spend hours just staring at it, trying to hold on to the memory of you

♡ When he got back, the first thing he did was try and find you. When he did, he couldn't help but kiss you until your black lipsticks rubbed off of you and onto him.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I hope you enjoyed this and if you have anything you would like me to personally respond to, message me or put it in my ask box because as of right now, Tumblr won't let me respond to comments :)

[angel444eva]

<3

[superbat-love]

Bruce: [sighs] Tell me why we agreed to do this again?

Clark: The kids love haunted houses and you promised that you’d join them on all the rides here. Besides, this way we can watch over them.

Bruce: I’d be more concerned for the ghosts in there than the kids honestly.

Clark: Come on, it’s our turn next.

Bruce: Clark, why are you holding on to my arm?

Clark: Umm, so you won’t get lost in the dark?

Bruce: [stares] I’d be a pretty ineffective crime fighter if I do. You’re not…scared, are you?

Clark: No!

Bruce: Right…Clark, you can see anyone coming from a mile away and you can bench press this entire place, what’s there for you to be scared of?

Clark: Well…

Bruce: I’m scarier than any of the ghosts in there.

Clark: You’re right. Okay, I feel so much better now. Let’s go in!