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darlingdaisyfarm · 13 days ago

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⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆ HALLOWEEN EDITION | Stan & Ford x reader ⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

sorry if this is too late :,((

kind of inspired by two incredible artworks i reblogged earlier this week

tags: nsfw (it’s literally pure filth), fem!reader, oral (f and m receiving), p in v, praise & degradation, rough sex, overstimulating, dirty talk, biting, blood kink, sex toys, Ford is mean

࣪ ִֶָ🩸་༘࿐ vampire!Stanley

Stan’s in that damn costume, the deep red of his cape casting a dark shadow over his broad frame, fangs sharp and glistening. you shouldn’t find it as hot as you do. . .

Stan’s got you exactly where he wants you, pinned down beneath him, wrists locked tight in his grip, his body hot and heavy, pressing you into the mattress, holding you there like he never intends to let go. “oh, sweetie,” he murmurs, that evil smirk curling up on his lips. “you’ve got no idea the kinda trouble you’re in now, do ya? look at you. . . all spread out, soaked for me, you’re just beggin’ for it, aren’t ya?”

his mouth trails to your neck and it’s not soft. no, his fangs sink in, claiming you as his, groaning low as he laps up the drop of blood that blooms under his bite, like tasting you is all he needs. he lets his tongue trace the drop of blood that wells up, groaning as he laps it up like it’s the finest thing he’s ever tasted. Stanley is obsessed, absolutely wrecked over you, and he doesn’t even try to hide it. “fuckin’ hell,” he mutters, his thumb dragging the crimson over his lips, smearing it, his eyes are dark, half-lidded and god, he’s so hard against you, his thick length grinding up against your cunt through his pants and he feels the way you’re already soaked for him, feel it seeping through the thin fabric of your panties.

“just like that, honey,” he growls, slipping his rough, calloused hand down, pressing his fingers against your aching clit through the cloth, rubbing slow lazy circles that make you whimper, arching up into him. “needy messy thing, huh?” he lets out a dark chuckle, watching you fall apart under his touch, his finger slipping down to push against your entrance, just barely pressing in to tease, before pulling away. “you want this cock so bad, don’t ya, baby? look at you, drippin’ all over my hand.”

Stan can’t help himself; totally crazy about the way you’re gasping, moaning, whining, practically riding his hand as he slides one thick finger inside, then another, stretching you open, working you slow, feeling how you pulse and clench around him, desperate. he’s watching, that dark gleam in his eye as he yanks your panties in one quick, brutal motion, tearing them away, they’re useless anyway, leaving you bare, spread open, trembling under him, your needy cunt exposed to his hungry eyes. “that’s it, sugar.”

Stan’s fingers pump into your wetness, reaching deep, curling up to press against that sweet spot inside that makes you moan his name and beg for more, makes your thighs shake and he’s just eating it up, every little sound, every twitch, every shudder, enjoying how helpless you are. “you’re squeezin’ me so damn tight, doll, like this pretty little pussy’s just beggin’ to be filled. you want it, don’t ya? you want this cock filling you up ‘til you’re creamin’ all over me?” Stan just watches how your pussy takes his fingers, admiring how hot it looks, nearly salivating, oh how starved this man is.

“goddamn, what a beautiful fuckin’ sight.”he mutters, voice low, fingers tracing through your slick, swollen folds, spreading.

his thumb brushes over your clit, gentle at first, just enough to make you squirm and buck your hips. hell, you look so delicious lying there, all innocent and laid out just for him, for his fangs. Stanley doesn’t just want to taste your blood; he wants to drink down every ounce of you, to watch you writhe under his tongue, to fuck you senseless until there’s nothing left but trembling submission. you’re such a stunning sight, gazing up at him with that smoldering need, thighs pressed together as your arousal builds. your neck is covered in bites and love marks, smears of blood dotting your collarbones and throat. fuck, if he weren’t so obsessed with your pussy, he’d paint you in crimson. you’re just so damn sweet, so tempting.

you feel his hot breath against you, his mouth hovering so close, so achingly close to where you want him, need him. and then— oh, god, he’s kissing you there, pressing his mouth right against your wet entrance, sliding his tongue slowly over your slit, drawing out every sweet sound from your parted lips. the first taste makes him groan and he just goes feral from there, his mouth open, wet, hot, working over you like he’s starving, he’s devouring you, worshiping every inch, tongue dipping into your wet opening, making your thighs tremble.

he’s so lost in it, groaning against you as he buries himself between your thighs, tasting you, savouring every last drop. “fuck, you taste so good, baby,” Stan groans, pulling back, watching you with drunk eyes and glistening lips. “sweetest damn thing I’ve ever had.”

he sucks hard on your swollen clit, his lips wrapping around the sensitive bud, tongue rolling slow thick strokes against it until you’re gasping, your hips bucking against his mouth as he laps at you furiously. Stan lets out a low grunt, one hand sliding down, pressing his fingers into your hot soaked opening, working it slow, just barely breaching the entrance, collecting your juices as his tongue works relentlessly over your clit, making you see stars and tug his hair, your vision blurs from pleasure.

he slips his fingers out, just to watch the way your slick coats them, shining, glistening so beautifully and then he’s bringing them up to your lips, pressing them against your mouth with that devilish grin. “c’mon, open up, darlin’. taste yourself, yeah? wanna see you suck those fingers clean.” and when you do, sliding his thick fingers past your lips, tasting your own arousal as you suck them, he’s watching you hungrily, groaning, his hand moving to unzip, to free his cock — thick, veined, throbbing for you, so ready, practically aching as he strokes it, his gaze never leaving your flushed, needy face.

“get on your knees,” Stan commands and as you sink down, legs trembling, he fists a hand in your hair, guiding you to his cock, pressing the swollen, dripping head right up against your lips. “gonna make you choke on it, baby,” he murmurs as he pushes in, filling your warm mouth, groaning at the sensation. the taste of him hits you, salty, hot, intoxicating and when he reaches the back of your throat, he doesn’t pull back, but holds you there, buried deep, growling as he watches the tears prick at the corners of your eyes, feeling you struggle, feeling you take him like a good girl you are.

“ffuck, that’s it,” Stanley grunts, hand tight in your hair, guiding your mouth over him, setting a slow, torturous rhythm. “take it all, honey, don’t you dare pull back. i’m gonna fuck this pretty little mouth ‘til you’re drooling, ‘til I see those sweet little tears rollin’ down your cheeks, beggin’ for more.” and he thrusts slowly, but roughly, his cock filling you over and over, making your throat clench around him as you choke, drool slipping down your chin while he just groans, rolling his hips, pushing deeper, claiming every inch of you, feeding his length into that hot, wet mouth until you’re utterly, completely his.

࣪ ִֶָ🧪་༘࿐ scientist!Ford

that look in Ford’s eyes is downright terrifying, a hunger so dark it borders on obsession. standing above you in his lab, he’s like a predator cornering his prey, latex gloves snapping tight over his hands as he flexes his fingers, testing the restraint of each one. “just perfect,” he says, a sinister smirk tugging at his lips, his gaze devouring every inch of your body, laid bare on the cold examination table. “finally, I have you right where I want you.” Ford feels like watching some rare, elusive phenomenon, one he’s waited years to study up close.

he adjusts his glasses, looking down at you like you’re his own personal experiment. his six fingered hands itching to explore every part of you.

“such a rare subject, huh. . .”

the way you’re spread out on this cold table, vulnerable, open, ready to be ruined, it drives him insane. Ford drags a gloved finger along your needy entrance, feeling how wet you already are. “there we go,” he whispers, eyes glued to your exposed core, barely able to keep his composure as he leans down, his breath hot against your skin, even behind his mask.

he’s teasing you, tracing his gloved fingers along your inner thighs, ignoring the way you squirm, the way your hips lift in search of friction. "oh no, no. . . don't get ahead of yourself. we’re doing this my way, understood?"

then Ford pulls a small vibrator from his lab coat pocket, holding it up to the light, inspecting it clinically with that smart look of his before pressing it right against your swollen clit, flicking it on with a twist of his wrist. you don’t except this at all, the buzz jolts through you, sparking your nerves into overdrive and he watches, utterly fascinated, as your body writhes under him, chest rising and falling, lips parting in gasps and moans as you shake in pleasurable agony.

“no squirming.” he says seriously, even a little bit enjoyed as he adjusts the speed, pressing it harder against your poor little clit, holding you in place with one hand. “do you know how beautiful you look like this? squirming, desperate. . . jesus, and I’m the only one who gets to see it.” he presses it harder, moving it in small circles that make you bite back the desperate cries spilling from your lips.

“god, look at you,” there’s something cruel in his tone, something filthy and mocking that makes it all the hotter. “already dripping for me and I’ve barely began. pathetic.” he doesn’t even wait for an answer, he knows you can’t, not when he teases you like this as he just pushes the vibrator against you harder, grinding it all over your swollen sensitive bud until you’re mewling, “such a good little experiment, so fucking obedient, just look at you. . .”

you’re trembling and he’s right, you’re so damn wet, your thighs slick with arousal. Ford finally pulls the toy away and just when you think he might give you a second to breathe, his fingers are on you, pressing two thick gloved digits right into your drenched cunt so deep it makes your eyes widen. “ohh, you’re squeezing my fingers like you’re trying to keep me inside,” he chuckles darkly, curling them just right and you see stars, your walls pulse around him while you can’t do anything but lay there and take it. “this desperate cunt was made just for me to fuck with.” and he’s got that creepy insane grin which you can’t see through mask, but you definitely know it’s there, as he starts pumping his fingers in and out, dragging every inch until you’re whining again, hips lifting, needing it rougher, needing something much bigger than just his fingers. “just listen to those sounds,” he taunts, twisting his fingers as he buries them knuckle deep into you, pulling out to thrust in again, making the filthiest wettest noises echo through the lab. you’re a whining mess, helpless to the way he plays your body like a madman studying a phenomenon he’s finally captured.

then, without a word, his hand comes down against your clit in a sharp slap, making you jolt, a cry slipping from your mouth as the shock and pleasure blend together, you look down with eyes full of needy tears, sniffing. “oww, did that hurt, darling? is that why your stupid pussy got even wetter? little slut.” Ford growls, rubbing your swollen bud with his thumb, soothing only to slap again, delighting in the way you jolt, the way your mouth opens in a silent scream.

“my god, look at that,” Stanford finally pulls his fingers out and holds them up in front of you, you bite your lip, all humiliated as your juices dripping down his knuckles. “such a filthy mess you’re making of my gloves, dripping all over me and it’s just from my fingers?”

when you’re all dazed and ruined, with flushed face and body, all brain fucked out of you, he finally takes his fingers away. Ford undoes his belt with his free hand, pulling out his cock — hard, thick, dripping with pre-cum as he lines himself up against your soaked needy cunt. "you’re going to take every inch of this cock,” he guides himself at your leaking entrance. "you’re going to take it, let me fill you up, fuck you so deep you feel me for days.” his length slides against your puffy folds, pressing in slowly, groaning at how good you feel, your warm and soft walls squeezing him, until he’s buried to the hilt, stretching you open. “mmhm, barely fitting around me, but you’re taking it, aren’t you? good girl. . . there you go, keep squeezing me just like that.”

he doesn’t give you a second to adjust before he starts moving, driving his cock into you, thrusting hard, rough, hitting so deep, making your eyes roll back, mouth open as your body clings to him. “can feel you getting tighter— gonna cum for me already, aren’t you? barely even started fucking you and you’re already falling apart.”

and when you cum, your whole body shakes, gasping for air as a powerful orgasm tears through you because nothing compares to the bliss of cumming on Ford’s cock while feeling him so deep inside. but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t pull out; he keeps fucking you, barely holding back his own moans, lost in the incredible feeling of your little pussy squeezing around him, making it all too fucking good to resist. chucking, Ford pulls your leg up, shifting you to your side, thrusting into you from a different angle, his cock hitting that spot that makes you moan his name, lost to everything but the relentless drive of his hips. “oh, you like that, don’t you?” you can’t even a answer, your body so pliant in his hands as he pounds into you, watching the way your pussy hungrily sucks him in deeper. “feels that good, huh? can’t believe how fast you’re cumming, such a desperate little slut for me.”

he really is fucking every last bit of sense out of you, until the only sounds you can make are broken cries of ‘dr Pines!’ and ‘please!’ as Ford pounds into your dripping cunt, rough and relentless, your leg hooked over his shoulder as he drives deeper.

drool is spilling down your chin, your mouth slack, open wide as the lab fills with the sharp slaps of his hips against you, the sounds of your desperate cries and his ragged breaths. but it feels so fucking good, his cock stretching and filling you in ways that make your pussy squelch with every thrust. Ford smirks, eyes dark as he watches your slick drip down onto the cold lab table beneath you.

you’re so fucked out that you whine pathetically when he pulls out, your cunt clenching around nothing, left empty and throbbing, aching for more. that’s why Ford slips you over, bending you forward, one hand fisting in your hair as he slides back in, thrusting deep, filling you again, and that angle makes you gasp, makes you feel every inch, every thick, throbbing vein dragging against your soft walls. “you’re just swallowing me up, aren’t you? like this greedy little pussy was made for me,” he groans, his hand gripping your hip, pulling you back onto him with every thrust, filling you, splitting you open, slamming into you hard enough to make the table shake.

“look at you, cumming again, can’t even help yourself,” he pants, voice mocking as he feels you tightening around him again, finishing on his cock again and again, trying to milk him. and he doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down, just keeps thrusting, filling you over and over, until you’re nothing but a moaning, trembling mess beneath him, totally, completely his.

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lizardkingeliot · 5 months ago

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Hoooo boy okay let's do this. 2x06 was a goddamn doozy, you guys. There was a very strong theme here throughout the episode of makers and fledglings being able to feel one another through their shared blood even when they can't read each other's minds. Louis says he can feel Madeleine is out of town because she is his fledgling. Likewise, Madeleine calls out the fact that she can feel Louis after acknowledging she can't read his mind. But there's something else happening here too....

She looks to Armand. Says she can feel Louis' love for him through their blood. Then calls out the fact that... Louis won't tell him? Only... Louis HAS told Armand "I love you". That was a pretty important element of 2x04. The casual way he said it with the vision of Lestat laughing at the bedside all the while. The one Louis actually couldn't say it to...

Was Lestat. We all remember, but just in case anyone forgot...

But what does Madeleine ascribe this feeling to? Why does she think she can FEEL Louis loving Armand? Because of the blood they share. The blood they share that comes from Lestat. The blood Claudia didn't want Madeleine to have BECAUSE it's Lestat's. The episode did a really great job of reminding us about the blood bonds and just what it means to have a connection to your maker. And when that maker is also your lover..... hoooooo boy.........

Anyway. The love. The blood. The bond with your maker. I can understand why Madeleine would be confused about the love Louis is feeling. She sees Louis with Armand. She assumes they're in love. She doesn't realize...

Her maker is sitting there thinking about his own maker the entire time. To the point he almost quotes him word for word before he stops himself...

And of course he's thinking about Lestat. He's just become a maker himself. Why WOULDN'T he be thinking about Lestat? Even after saying goodbye to Dreamstat, he can't get Lestat out of his mind. Even after becoming a shadow of who he used to be. Someone cold and distant. He's trying so hard, but it's never going to work. He's never going to be able to shove Lestat away completely. And he's certainly never going to be capable of loving Armand in the way Armand desperately wants Louis to love him. Because while Armand might say he belongs to Louis. If you ask Louis if he belongs to Armand, well...

And honestly... I feel so horrible for Armand here. Because there's nothing he could have done that would have made this particular outcome any different. He never stood a chance. Louis and Lestat are bonded not only in their blood but in their hearts and their souls. Lestat was not only Louis' maker but the love of his life. His first love. The first man he ever allowed himself true intimacy with. The one he shared a coffin with. The one he shares a heart with. Louis is trying so hard to be who he was before Lestat, someone closed off and cold. But he cannot sever the bond in their blood and in their hearts with all the coldness in the world...

Which leads me to wonder... did the love Madeleine detect in Louis not only have to do with his blood bond with Lestat/the fact that he was thinking about Lestat the whole time, but also the fact that Lestat was already in Paris? Could Louis feel it? Was he aware of feeling that innate connection but was so determined to make himself a hardened shell of who he once was that he just brushed it of? Thought it was residual grief? Is that why his visions of Lestat before he banished him in 2x04 were so vivid? Because Lestat was in Paris for years, and despite not really knowing that, Louis felt it all the same?

Anyway. Moving on. Circling back to Armand and Louis and the topic of love. When they're discussing Armand not being aware of what Santiago was truly up to, Armand blames being distracted on being in love and Louis just... outright scoffs at the idea?

We sure are a long way from "meet the vampire Armand, the love of my life" territory this deep into season 2, that's for sure. And sure, in Dubai Louis is feeling bitter and doesn't trust Armand for many reasons this particular post aren't about. But even looking back on it, on the time that should have been their honeymoon phase before it all went to shit, Louis just... doesn't see love there. Or at least not being In Love. Because the only one Louis was in love with in Paris was his maker. The one he was bonded to in blood.

And the one he's about to have to sit on a stage with next week and never once be permitted to touch. Never once be permitted a moment of truth with. But the bond is still going to be there. They'll still feel each other's hearts, beating as one with their shared blood. And we have to assume after that... they just never see each other again after Paris? And just thinking on that point alone... it truly is no wonder Louis is still so unwell in Dubai. Locked away in his tower that is his prison that is his forgetting. I wasn't sure I believed Armand when he said Louis asked him to take the memory of San Francisco away from him. But I think I actually do? It makes sense. That he would want to forget something like that. And it also makes me wonder...

What else did Louis want to forget? And how much of that forgetting is related to this agonizing, unbreakable blood bond he shares with Lestat? I truly have no clue how far they're going to take this, so I guess we'll just have to wait to find out...

#interview with the vampire spoilers #interview with the vampire #loustat #otp: all my love belongs to you #iwtv meta #iwtvedit #i'm doing totally fine thanks for asking

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dickgraysonsbitch · 6 months ago

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Hi! Just found your blog and it’s the best thing ever honestly. I was wondering if you could do a Jason Todd x reader where the reader deals with migraines and sensory overloads? If not that’s totally cool, have a nice day!

thank you so much for your ask!! this was actually my first request ever 😭 nonny you will go down in history 💖 a psa that while i do have mild sensory issues, i don’t have migraines, so any and all criticism is welcome!

warnings: pills/migraines | 1.2k words | dividers by @cafekitsune | requests open !

You fell onto the bed, tucking your knees in close to your chest. Fifty minutes. This goddamned headache had been the bane of your whole existence for fifty minutes, and you couldn’t even catch a bloody break. Every week, it would come back like clockwork, and while you had your routine (two advils, an eye mask, and soothing ocean noises all while sitting in a dark room with a singular, mildly-scented lavender candle with two out of three wicks lit) it didn’t change the fact that every minute that you lay there, the throbbing sensation around your head came back worse than before.

Grasping the tip of your nose, you tilted your head back in order to swallow the pills next to you. If you didn’t, you’d eventually gag on the water, and that wasn’t really a pretty sight to see. It was a miracle that you could even work as a hostess, especially on the graveyard shift, because it was taking every ounce of your willpower not to throw up at even the most tamest memories—a sleepy child with food flying out of their mouth, or a costumer shouting about how ‘insane’ you were when you had only gotten through your second advil of the day. It wasn’t enough, clearly, because if it had been, you wouldn’t be holed up in your dark room like a vampire with chronic pain.

One knock on your window jolts you from your ibuprofen-fueled haze. Two knocks. Three knocks—god, who doesn’t have patience in this stupid city? Not everyone can be a metahuman that travels at the speed of sound.

You open your window, head still pulsing, but all thoughts of another cup of mildly sweetened honey tea dissipates when the Red Hood smoothly slides into your living room/kitchen (it’s Gotham! Rent may be low, but you are poor as hell), removes his helmet, and shakes his head like a wet dog, the domino mask he was wearing underneath somehow not falling off. He shoots you a crooked grin before plopping himself on your couch, resting his legs on your coffee table.

“Shoes off,” you grumble. “And for the millionth time, I have a door for a reason. And I put food on that table, and I don’t want to see your nasty feet on it.” While other people might be a bit more reserved when talking to a Bowery drug lord, you had never given yourself the same boundaries. He’d crashed into your apartment when he was injured one night a few months ago, and since then, the Red Hood swore to one, pay off your window, and two, make sure you were safe. In his words, it was the best way to repay you for saving his life—even though you didn’t really do anything of the sort. Basic stitches that you learnt in high school, because that was what they taught when a vigilante could collapse in your house due to blood loss any minute in Gotham.

“Woah…” he raises his hands up in mock surrender, his eyes glinting with mirth. “What’s wrong? Rough shift?”

He can always tell, and you’ve decided to refrain against trying to lie to the only crime lord that you’ll likely ever be friend with, unless the Penguin unexpectedly decides to lumber up your fire escape. (Hood’s gotten you a spiked baseball bat for occasions like that, because you complained about any firearms). A pang of pain from you head. Mental note, put out the candle, no wicks. Darken the room even more, try and fail to go to sleep. You have your second job in the morning tomorrow. Mental note, take a melatonin if you can’t sleep, pack a few pills of ibuprofen and acetaminophen if you can’t get through your morning shift. It’s two AM right now, you could still get three hours of sleep if you—

A rough, calloused hand gently caresses your cheek, sending a tingling sensation down your jawline, all the way down to the base of your spine. Okay, woah. “Take a deep breath, baby.” Hood’s deep, gravelly voice shakes your from your stupor. Oh. You were slipping back into your anxiety induced panic attacks, and you hadn’t even noticed. You take one deep breath, but instead of feeling like you’re stuffing an oversized pillow into a kid sized cover, you’re at ease, letting fresh air flow into your lungs.

“How you doin’ tonight, huh baby? I saw your kitchen light on, thought I’d stop by.” Red Hood rubs a simple circle pattern into your back, letting you lean onto him.

“I bet…” you take a shallow breath. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

A smile cracks through onto his face. “Nah, baby, just you. All the girls have nothing on you, baby. You want to tell me about your day?”

Maybe it was just his voice, but you were almost immediately more at ease than you wee moments ago. Red Hood would’ve had a great calling as a therapist, or even a guidance counselor, but you weren’t sure that he’d like it if you called him, arguably the most fearsome man in Gotham, a service worker. Men were weird that way.

“C-can you talk to me, Hood? I don’t know… you have a nice voice, I guess. Makes me feel safe.”

You could swear that you heard his voice crack before he cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah, I can do that. So… I guess I didn’t do much today. Oh! This one sleaze-bag was trying to rob this eighth grader, and I’d never seen this old guy, okay? The kid, his name’s James, he immediately just swings his backpack at him. And I come in, this dude’s already gotten a broken nose…”

He keeps talking about the unexpected things that happened during his day, but your eyes are just trained on Hood. His sharp jaw, his toned arms, his hair and the decent-sized white streak that runs through it, his soft lips and the J scar that covered his left cheekbone, and you wondered what it would be like to know him without the mask on. Would he still be the same, sweet guy that you knew?

In a sudden moment of courage, you take Hood’s hand and squeeze it, your heart pounding nervously against your ribcage. “Thank you, Hood.” You whisper. “I don’t know… I don’t know what I would be done if you weren’t here. I’d probably be still having a killer headache right now.”

He smiles, something that you’ve been seeing him do a lot more often than he’s known for. Red Hood, vigilante, drug lord, crime boss? Nowhere to be seen. You try your hardest to gaze past the white lenses over his eyes, concealing his eye color.

“Jay,” he mutters softly, soft enough that if you hadn’t been sitting so close, you wouldn’t have been able to hear a word that he said. “Call me Jay.”

The head comes come back sometimes, but you usually tend to ignore the headaches after a dose of acetaminophen and a head massage from who might be the world’s best vigilante, Jay. You may not know his full name yet, but you know his heart, and under all that armor, under the Red Hood, is a man with a heart of gold.

please please please let me know if i got anything wrong so i can edit it!

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #dc robin #jason todd x oc #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd fluff #jason todd fanfiction #red hood #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood x y/n #red hood imagines #cinna’s asks #dickgraysonsbitch

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sunnie-angel · 2 months ago

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. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. sunnie’s kinktober 2024 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

hello and welcome to my first ever kinktober event!

before you proceed: this is a kink focused event and all works are only intended for an adult (18+) audience. please mind the tags on each fic, and if you don’t like something in the tags then don’t read it. if you feel like anything hasn’t been tagged properly, please kindly let me know. enjoy and take care of yourselves!

week 1 (oct. 4) | voice kink

✮⋆˙ baby

it's been a long, shitty day and all jason wants to do is call his baby back home. they have a great idea of how to make the day end on a high note

tags: gn!reader, established relationship, guided masturbation, phone sex, voice kink, exhibitionism, sub!jason

week 2 (oct. 11) | overstimulation

✮⋆˙ lay all your love on me

jason needs to come. a lot. what's a good partner supposed to do but give him a helping orgasm? or two? or three?

tags: gn!reader, established relationship, groping, dirty talk, cum play, slight objectification, hand job, begging, crying during sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

week 3 (oct. 18) | period sex

✮⋆˙ bon appetit

jason’s a vampire, you’re on your period, and, well a man’s gotta eat

tags: f!reader, vamp jason, established relationship, period sex, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, blood drinking, blood as lube, slight size kink, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

week 4 (oct. 25) | size kink

✮⋆˙ some other love

jason's tried forever and it's never worked out, but the pretty thing that runs one of his community centres is just so earnest in her desire for him that maybe he can have this. (part of the older, jaded jason au)

tags: f!reader, older jason, age gap, size kink, vaginal fingering, penetrative sex, kid as a petname, unprotected sex

edit: bonus story (oct 31) | breeding kink

✮⋆˙ baby girl

your girlfriend jay todd is hot. like seriously life ruiningly hot. so hot you want her ring and for her to put a baby in you. and if you think jay’s not gonna do her goddamn best to knock you up with her strap, well you’ve got another think coming.

tags: f!reader, fem!jason todd, flirting, sapphic sex, fingering, clit pinching, biting, penetrative sex with a strap on, breeding kink, size kink if you squint, soft domme jay todd, squirting, pregnancy mention, cannot emphasize enough that this is woman on woman sex

#dividers by saradika #sunnie’s kinktober 2024 #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd smut #jason todd x fem!reader #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood smut #x reader #x female reader

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samandcolbyownme · 23 days ago

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PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

Summary: You’ve heard of Christmas miracles, well here’s a Halloween miracle - a year later, reader finds out that her boyfriend didn’t just disappear

Warnings: strong language, vampire!Matt, mentions of blood, death, other Halloween themes, compulsion, angsty?, kissing

Word Count: 4.5k | Unedited

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“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Your friend holds onto you tight, “You can’t.. I’m sorry, you can’t go in there.”

You were sobbing in her arms, fighting to break free from her grasp, “Nonono, he can’t-“ you gasp for air, “He can’t.. he can’t be..”

“I’m sorry.. I’m so, so sorry.” She holds you tighter, moving down to sit on the ground with you laying in her lap, “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not seeing anything.”

You lifted your head, sniffling hard as you listened to the officers talk, “There’s absolutely no sign of them sir.”

“No blood? No articles of clothing? A cell phone? Nothing?” He takes his hat off, smacking it against his thigh, “Goddamn it. We’ll search all night if we have to.”

And they did.

You couldn’t believe what you were living through. You couldn’t comprehend that Matt was just.. gone.

“There’s..” you sniffle hard, laying your head against your friend’s shoulder, “no.. way.. he’s just..” you sob hard, wails leaving your lips the longer you think about it.

“I know.. I know..” she whispers as she rubs your back, “it doesn’t.. it doesn’t make sense.”

“Ma’am.”

“Y/n.” Your friend pushes you to stand up and you look up at the officer, “I believe your boyfriend was one of the ones who disappeared last night.”

You nod, “Y-yes.. he just.. came outside.. and never.. c-came.. back.”

“Neither of you saw anything, did you?” He asks as he jots stuff down on his notepad, “No animals or anything like that?”

“No, sir.” Your friend steps up beside you and you shake your head, “We were inside the whole night, or..” you sigh, fighting back more tears but fail, “Un-til.. he-“

“Okay, okay.” The officer pats your shoulder, “Well work hard to figure out what happened, okay? We’ll get you and everyone else some answers.”

But they never did.

It was always the same answer, no tracks. Nothing left behind. They just dropped the case like they were nothing.

You couldn’t just sit there anymore, so you went out to the woods.

Day after day for a few weeks, looking for some sort of sign, or a clue he may have left behind, but to your disappointment, you found nothing.

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Matt was always in the back of your mind. You never let yourself go a day without thinking about him at least once, but then again, everything reminded you of him.

You even dreamed about him.

“I miss you.” You look up at him from your bed as he walks closer to you, “I wish I could..” you gasp quietly as his hand presses to your cheek.

“I promise, I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again.”

They always felt, so real. Almost like he was literally standing right in front of you, but when you’d wake up, he never was.

You let out a sigh as your phone vibrates from an incoming call. You hit the lock button to silence it, but the screen still stays lit.

You roll your eyes, knowing exactly why Macie is calling, and you didn’t feel like talking about it.

She calls again, and again, and again, until you finally answer it, “Dude.”

“Finally.” She sighs, “I’ve been waiting for you to answer.”

“I’m not going to that stupid Halloween party. I don’t need a repeat of last year with you.” You sit up and rest your chin in the palm of your hand, “I just don’t think I’m ready to go to another one.”

“Oh come on, y/n. You have to start living your normal life. You can’t stay locked in your apartment forever, it’s not good.” She pauses, “We don’t have to go to the party, but we can go to the festival?”

Your eyes start to water as you remember walking through the fair grounds with Matt’s hand in yours. Him glancing back at you every so often to make sure you were good.

His smile, the way his eyes lit up when you smiled back.

“I-I.. don’t want to do anything, Macie, I’m sorry.” You pull the phone away from your ear and stop when you hear her yelling, “Wait, wait, wait.”

You put the phone back to your ear, “What.”

“I’ll come over, I’ll bring snacks. A blanket, we can camp out in your living room, watch movies all night?”

You stay silent for a second, thinking about her offer, “Fine. But you better bring the good popcorn. I’m all out.”

“Okay, I’ll pack a bag and then I’ll swing by the store on my way over.”

“Take your time, I’m going to try and lay down, I can feel a headache coming on.” You run a hand through your hair, “See you in a little bit.”

“See you.”

You hang up, tossing your phone down as you lay down. You stare at the picture of Matt on your nightstand, giving it a small smile before your close your eyes.

That’s the fastest you’ve fallen asleep.

“I miss you so much.” Matt whispers as he pulls you tighter against his body, “You have no idea what I’d do to get back to you.”

“I’d do anything to have you back, Matt. It’s not the same without you here.” You turn your head, sniffling as you try to hold back your tears.

“Hey, hey.” Matt’s hands slide to your cheeks and he tiles your head up, “Don’t cry, sweetheart.” He gives you a small smile as his thumbs swipe away your tears as they fall, “I promise, I’m always with you. You know that.”

“It’s not the same.” You pout, “Why can’t you come back?”

“I don’t have a choice, baby.” Matt frowns, “Macie is almost here. It’s time to wake up.” He presses his lips to your temple, and you snap awake.

You sit up, looking around as your hand moves to the spot Matt kisses in your dream.

It felt so real.

“Hey!” Macie calls as she walks through your front door, “I’m here.”

You get up and walk out, “Have you ever had a dream that felt so real, you’re left.. confused after?”

She stops walking and just stares at you, “I just.. got here..” she laughs and walks over to the couch, “But yeah, I’ve had dreams like that.”

“I keep, having these dreams where Matt is here.” You walk over to the couch and sit down, “Like, right before you got here, he kissed my temple..” you point to your head, “This temple, and then he told me you were almost here and that I needed to wake up.”

“I think..” she sits down and turns towards you, “I think it’s all physiological, honey. Like you’re still really shaken up about Matt just-“

“Yeah.” You cut her off, not wanting to talk about it, “Did you, uh, bring the popcorn?”

She catches on and nods, “I sure did.” She pulls the box out of her grocery bag and hands it to you, “That’s the stuff right?”

You nod, “Yes, this is the stuff.” You get up and walk to the kitchen, unwrapping a pack of the popcorn to throw into the microwave.

“Did you get drinks?” You yell out, pausing as you wait for her to answer, “Oh fuck no, I didn’t.”

“That’s fine. I have some.” You reach into the fridge and grab some, “Here. The popcorn is in the microwave. I’ll go check it.”

You walk back into the kitchen and as you’re standing at the microwave, you feel like a hand brushes hair from your shoulder.

You jump, spinning around quickly as you gasp.

Nothing.

“I swear to god.” You grab the bag from the microwave and walk back in to Macie, “Either my apartment is haunted, or I’m just losing it.”

“Why? What happened?” She looks up at you as she spread her blanket over her legs.

“Nothing.” You shake your head, “I’m probably just losing it.”

She nods, taking the bag of popcorn, “Do you have a bowl?” You sit down and groan, “Shit, yeah.” You go to get up, but she stops you, “You. Sit. I can get it.”

You nod, grabbing the remote from the coffee table and you lean back into the couch. As you’re clicking through the movies, you swear you see Matt standing behind the couch in the reflection.

You whip your head around, letting out a sigh as Macie walks back in, “I think this one should be good enough, right?”

You look over at her and nod, “Yeah. That’s the popcorn bowl.”

She furrows her brows and slowly sits down, “What’s happening?”

“What do you mean?” You tilt your head and she laughs slightly, “You’re acting weird.”

You try to play it off, but you can’t, “I can’t.. okay. Please don’t judge me, but I honestly feel like Matt is still here.”

She goes to say something, but you cut her off, “And don’t give me that it’s just your mind grieving, shit because it doesn’t feel like that. I know what that feels like and this..” you shake your head, “This.. isn’t it.”

“Okay, okay.” She slowly sets the bowl on the table and looks at you, “I was there when Matt went missing.”

You cringe at her words and she sighs, “I know you hate hearing it, but it’s true, y/n. I seen the way it affected you. I seen how hurt you were by his disappearance. You were deeply affected, and from what I know, the mind can play the worst tricks when you’re going through something like that. Thinking they’re still here because you don’t want to accept they aren’t coming back.”

You give her a look but she quickly speaks up, “I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, honey. What I’m saying, is, maybe.. you need to finally.. put him to rest?”

“What, like burn his pictures?” You scoff and look down, “I can’t get rid of anything, Mac, it’s all I have left of him.”

“No, I’m just saying that you need to give him one final message. A final goodbye, so that way, you don’t spend the rest of your life on the couch, soaking in sadness. He wouldn’t want that.”

No matter how much you didn’t want to believe her, you knew she was right.

“I know.” You mumble quietly, “I just..”

“I’ll give you tonight. One more night to just grieve and let all the sadness come back out, and then tomorrow, we’re going to Frankie’s party.”

You shake your head and she nods, “You need to live your life, y/n. You can’t just-“

“I know.” You cut her off, “I’m just, scared I’ll forget him completely.”

“I don’t think that will happen.” She laughs slightly, “You and Matt were.. an unbelievable couple. You guys were literally the perfect match.”

“I miss him.” You look at her, tears in your eyes, “I miss him so much.” You cover your face and the silent sobs grow louder.

“I know, honey.” She moves over next to you, her arms moving to hold you like she did a year ago. You were sobbing against her chest as she gently rocked you back and forth, “It’s okay. You’re okay, just let it all out.”

“It should have been me.” You sob, “Matt didn’t deserve this.”

“It shouldn’t have been anyone.” She runs her hand over your head, “No one should have to go through this.”

After a few minutes of crying, you sit up, “Okay..” you sniffle, “Let’s watch a movie.”

“Are you sure?” She tilts her head and you nod, “Yeah, yeah.” You wipe your face, “I’m good.”

She takes the remote from the couch and points it at the tv, “This good?” You look at the screen and nod, “Yeah, this one is good.”

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You slowly lifted your head from the arm of the couch, blinking a few times as your eyes adjust to the light flashing from the tv screen.

As you sit up, you see Macie asleep on the other end.

You stand up, leaning down to move the blanket up onto her body more before you walk into the kitchen.

You grab a water from the fridge, opening it to take a drink before standing there for a second. You look around the kitchen, your mind flashing memories of you and Matt dancing in the fridge light.

Carving pumpkins on the floor surrounded by newspaper to catch the goop from within them.

You can still hear his laughter, his voice.

You can feel tears welling up in your eyes, so you make your way back into the living room. You gently set your water down on the end stand before sitting down on the couch.

As you’re watching the movie play, you can feel yourself doze off again, but only this time, unbeknownst to you, you weren’t dreaming.

“Don’t make a a sound, just listen to me.” Matt stares into your eyes as you nod, “You’re going to get up, and you’re going to go into the woods, the spot where you were looking for me.”

You stare at the figure in front of you, nodding as he speaks, “Don’t tell anyone where you’re going. Forget that I was here. Just come find me, and don’t be scared.”

You blink a few times and look around confused. You stare at Macie for a few seconds before you slowly get up, walking over to get your shoes on.

You grab the sweatshirt that once belonged to Matt, and you throw it on before you silently leave. You knew where you were going, you just didn’t know why.

You were questioning yourself the whole way there, asking yourself what you could possibly doing at three in the morning.

Matt was heavy on your mind, but that’s nothing different.

As you round the corner of the one building, you come to a stop. Your eyes fixate on a figure that stands up on the bridge leading to the woods.

A body lying lifeless at its feet.

Don’t be scared.

You walk forward, the figure disappearing with a blink of your eyes and you continue your trek. You stare at the body on the ground as you walk by, your head tilting as you see the ripped open flesh on its neck.

You look forward, glancing behind you before disappearing off the road and into the treeline.

The moon light cutting through the trees illuminated the dark ground as you walk, fog clouds up more and more the closer you get to the opening of where Matt was said to be last.

You take one more step, standing right in the center of the opening and you perk your head up as you snap out of your trance.

You look around, your breathing growing heavy as you start to panic.

You were out in the middle of the woods, alone - or so you thought.

“Y/n?”

You freeze.

You know that voice.

“M-Matt?” You slowly spin around and gasp, your hand flying to your mouth as Matt steps into the stream of moonlight, “Hi baby.”

You stare at him, shaking your head slowly as the overwhelming feelings take over, “I-I don’t.. I don’t-“ you take a shaky breath, “understand.”

“I didn’t either at first, sweetheart.” Matt steps closer and you step back, “W-wait..” you hold your hand up, “You.. were dead..”

He shrugs, “And yet, I’m here.”

You close your eyes, “I don’t..” you feel your legs go weak, and before you hit the ground, Matt in there in a blink of an eye, catching you in his arms.

“Is it.. really you?” You turn your head slightly and Matt nods, “It is.”

You swallow, “We have to.. go to the police.. tell them, you’re-you’re fine, right?” You stand up and turn towards him, “You can.. or, at least.. tell me what happened?”

You were unsure of whether or not you were ready to hear it, but Matt knew that, “Can you sit down for me? I don’t want you falling.”

You nod, sitting down with his hand in yours, “I just..” You let out a sigh as you look around, “I can’t.. wrap my mind around this..”

Matt’s fingers gently rest on your chin, his touch was cold, “Look at me, please.”

You hesitate for a second, but you inevitably look up at him.

“You and I are both, so.. different now.” He shakes his head, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“How-“

He cuts you off, “When I went outside at that party, I didn’t think I wouldn’t ever come back.” He crouches down in front of you, his hands resting on your hips, “It happened so quick.”

“What happened so quick?” You reach up, your shaky hand resting against his cheek, “Matt..”

“I honestly didn’t believe in it myself, but when I woke up, I was..” he looks away, shaking his head. You reach up with your other hand, turning his face back towards you, “Matthew. There’s nothing you can say that will scare me away.”

He swallows, his voice how, “Do you believe in the supernatural?”

You shrug slowly, “I mean, I’ve heard stories about our town, but I never really.. seen anything..”

“But do you believe?”

You nod, “Yes.”

His grip tightens on your hips, “Good, because I really need you to believe me when I tell you that I was turned into a vampire.”

You lean back, your stare on his face, “What?”

He nods, “That’s why I-“

“No, no. I need you to say it again because I-“ you shake your head, “What!?”

“How do you think I got to you in a split second before you hit the ground?” He glances back to the spot where you almost collapsed and you sigh, “I’ve dreamed about you, were, were those-“

“I’ve visited you throughout the year, but only when I knew I could control my thirst.”

“For blood.” You swallow and he nods, “Yeah, as a new vampire, you have this-this uncomfortable hunger and you just want to kill everyone you come across by sucking them dry.”

A chill goes down your spine and Matt rests his hand on your cheek, “I’m not going to hurt you, baby. I don’t want to. That’s why I stayed away for so long.”

“W-who helped you? Are there more? Are the others who disappeared.. vampires, too?”

You had so many questions, your heart was racing.

“Y/n, baby. I need you to calm down.” Matt stands up and backs away.

The feeling that washes over you is gut wrenching. Matt has never backed away from you before.

“I-I’m sorry..” you lean down, your hands covering your face.

Matt is next to you, his hand running up and down your back, “Don’t be sorry. This isn’t your fault.” You sit up, “But it is, I should have came with you. I shouldn’t have been-“

“Don’t do that.” Matt crouches down in front of you again, “Baby, look at me.” He waits until you look at him, “I came to you, sat with you while you slept. I let you see me for as long as I could before I wanted to do something I don’t ever want to do. That’s not your fault. That’s the fuckin’ freaks fault who turned me into this-this monster.”

“You’re not a monster, Matt.” You sniffle as you reach up to cup his face with your hands, “Like you said this.. isn’t your fault.”

He stares at you, “I compelled you to forget me, each time I saw you, and that hurt so bad, I’m so sorry.” He hangs his head down and you move closer, “You had to.”

He looks up at you and you run your hand through his hair, “We can.. we can come up with a plan.. tell, tell the police that you escaped some sort of-of cult or something? I don’t know. We can-“ you stop to take a breath, “Matt, baby. We can figure this out so you can come back to me.”

He lays his hand on yours that’s pressing against his cheek and he shakes his head, “I don’t think I can.”

“Why.. why do you say that?” You can feel yourself getting worked up, but you try to keep yourself as calm as you can, “I can help you.”

He stays silent as he just stares at you, “I don’t want to hurt you.” He shakes his head, “I don’t, ever want you to die on my behalf.”

You chew on your lip, “Is there anything we can do so that you can’t, or make it so you don’t want to?”

“No.”

“You’re lying to me.” You tilt your head, “Matt.”

“I-I don’t.. you..” he stands up and paces, “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Do what?” You stand up, “You just told me you’re a fucking vampire and yet.. here I am, begging you to let me help you.”

“The only way we could be together is if-“ he stops, shaking his head, “No, no.”

“If.. what?” You swallow, “If you turned me into what you are, too?”

He turns his head towards you, slowly nodding, “That’s our best option, y/n. There’s no magic cure for me, but there’s always that option for you.”

You freeze, “Are-are you serious?” You laugh nervously, “Matt, that..” He quickly moves over to you, “I love you, y/n. So much.”

“I love you.” You pull him in, your lips gently pressing to his. He pulls you closer, his lips pressing harder against yours.

He leans back, “I want to be with you. I do. You have no idea. You’re all I thought about. Your name was the last thing to leave my lips right before I d-“ he gasps, his eyes welling up, “I don’t want to be away from you any longer.”

You blink and tears fall into your cheeks, “I know, baby. I know.” You pull him in for a hug, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, “What do I have to do?”

Matt holds onto you tighter, taking in your scent before he lets you go, “You need to die with vampire blood in your system.”

You’re taken aback by his words, you knew you had to die, but it was different coming from the one you loved.

“O-okay.” You nod, “I can do that.”

“Y/n. This is.. a lot.. for one night.” Matt sighs, “Why don’t you think-“

“I’ve thought about it.” You nod, “I want to do this, I want to be with you.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t think you have..” he shakes his head, “This.. means leaving for a while.. until you’ve gotten yourself under control. Until you can stomp out the cravings and save a human, saving your best friend.. from being your dinner.”

“So, I’ll just tell her?” You shrug and Matt laughs, “Do you know what they’ll do if it gets out that we’re not human? Especially in a town like this?”

You shake your head, “N-no?”

“We’ll be hunted. We won’t be able to stay here. We’ll have to keep running, and running, and running, and when we think it’s safe, we’ll end up having to run some more.” He runs his hand through his hair and you see a flicker in his eyes, “Matt?”

“I just-“ he sighs, “I need to know that you know what this means, and how different your life will actually be, because mine is no where like it was before, y/n, and I would do anything to get it back to the way it was.”

“But you said you can’t. There’s no magic cure for a vampire to be a human again, only for me to become what you are.” You step towards him, “I would have gone to the ends of the earth to find you, and now that I have found you..”

Matt stares at you and you scoff, “I’ll do anything to keep you.”

“You’re nervous.” Matt points, “I can hear your heart racing.”

“Who wouldn’t be nervous in a situation like this? I mean, we’re talking about, what? Staying the same exact way that we are right now, forever.”

He nods and you sigh, “Matt.”

He moves to stand right in front of you, “Tell me about being a vampire.” You look up at him and he nods, “Come sit.”

He walks you over and you sit down beside each other on the rocks. He lays his hand on your thigh and takes a deep breath, “Being this creature is.. unexplainable. You’re just.. free.”

“But you can compel people?” You lay your hand on his and he nods, “Yeah, yeah. You can make anyone do anything you want.”

“How many have you-“

“Seven.” He cuts you off, “six of them were to not make any noise while I fed.. the seventh was you, which was the worst one out of all of them because it meant I had to say goodbye until god knew when.”

You swallow, “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault.. um..” he clears his throat, “I have super speed, basically. I can practically flash away within a second. By the way, you weren’t going crazy. I was standing behind you and I did move your hair off of your shoulder, I just.. didn’t want you to freak out while Macie was there.”

“Yeah, I still broke down.”

“I know.” He frowns and pulls you into him, “I, uh. Have super strength, and my hearing is actually really weird.” He squints, “I can hear the body on the bridge being discovered right now..”

“Are we okay here?” You look behind you and he nods, “If anything comes this way, I’ll know.”

“So it looks like there is perks to this.. vampire lifestyle?” You joke slightly and Matt shrugs, “Yeah but the worst part is when you first wake up. You want to kill everything.”

“Yeah, the hunger..” you mumble, “I just..” you turn towards him, “You’ll be there to help me right?”

“Y/n..”

“I’m serious, Matt. We can do this. We can- I can say I’m going to stay with my aunt for a while or something? I don’t know we can figure out something.” You take his hands into yours, “Please.. let me be with you.”

“There’s no going back, y/n.”

“I don’t want to go back.” You shake your head, “If my future doesn’t have you in it.. then I don’t-“

Matt cuts you off with a kiss, “I need you to say it. I need you to say it so I know you understand it.”

You lick your lips, nodding your head, “I want you to make me a vampire, Matt.”

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PHEW okay okay okay please tell me how you liked this, because I fucking LOVE it so much so I hope you do, too! I love you sooo much. Thank you for reading! I will catch you in PART 2 which is coming soon!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

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kikyoupdates · 3 months ago

Text

Love Bite ⭑˚🩸⭑ 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡

yandere!vampires x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, original characters, vampire!ocs x fem!reader

Desperate for money to pay off your debts, you sign up for a program that allows you to sell your blood to vampires. At first, everything is fine, and you’re finally able to make ends meet. But they soon begin craving more than just your blood.

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The moment Xavier’s fangs pierce your skin, all you can think is that it fucking hurts.

Honestly, the sensation can’t even be fully described in words. It’s sharp, and it stings, and even once you get past the initial pain of his fangs sinking into your flesh, they stay there, buried under the surface, making your neck throb and ache like never before.

Your eyes are shut. You don’t dare to open them and catch a glimpse of what’s happening. The pain is already more than enough

Still, you don’t even think of pulling away. You chose this, and you need this. God, you need the money so fucking bad.

Xavier holds you close, and you can’t help the whimper you let out as you hear him swallowing mouthfuls of your blood. It’s not just the pain that’s hard to stomach, but the sensation of being slowly drained of the precious liquid that’s meant to be keeping you alive.

This is unnatural. Under ordinary circumstances, this would never be happening.

Then again, nothing about your life has ever been ordinary.

You can feel your body swaying a bit, and you’re thankful that Xavier is holding onto you so tightly, otherwise you might have already collapsed from light-headedness. Come to think of it, you didn’t even ask how much blood you’re expected to give. Surely, he’ll stop eventually, right? Otherwise...

Otherwise, you might actually die.

Mercifully, Xavier pulls away just as that harrowing thought fills your mind, and you are immediately flooded with relief.

At least, until you take a good look at his face.

There’s blood all over his lips. Your blood. It’s a deep shade of crimson, and you realize, with a gulp, that you’ve never actually lost this much blood before, yet now, it’s staining the better portion of a stranger’s face.

Xavier must have picked up on your frightened expression, because he quickly digs into his pocket and pulls out a napkin, then uses it to wipe his mouth.

“There,” he says. “Is that better?”

You nod hastily. You really don’t mean to offend him, but seeing something like that for the first time... it’s a bit difficult to brush aside.

Xavier stares at you for a few moments. You wonder if he still hasn’t had his fill yet, if he wants to go back in for more. The tender spot on your neck throbs painfully at the thought.

But instead, he stands up, adjusts his tie, and nods.

“That’ll be all,” he says. “Thank you for your cooperation. Please speak to the doctor if you happen to be feeling unwell.”

He walks out without another word, and it kind of feels like a slap to the face. What you just did together can’t exactly be considered intimate, you suppose, but he still drank your goddamn blood, which as far as you're concerned, is a pretty big deal. To watch him carry on with such nonchalance is a harsh reminder that the two of you are completely different.

Anyways, it’s finally over. You actually pulled it off, and even though it hurt like a bitch, you have every intention of doing it again.

So long as you’re getting paid, of course.

“How are you feeling?” the doctor asks. He steps in the room shortly after Xavier leaves, then walks over to you and examines the bite mark on your neck. “Just wait a moment. I’ll disinfect the area and give you a bandage.”

He wipes your neck down, making sure to be as gentle as possible, applies a thin layer of some kind of ointment, then sticks on a cute little flower-shaped bandage.

Once he’s done, there’s virtually no sign that a vampire was drinking your blood just a few minutes ago.

“Blood pressure seems fine,” he remarks, removing the cuff from your arm. “Unless you’re concerned about something, I’d say you’re good to go.”

Besides the dull pain coming from your neck every so often, and the fact that you’re perhaps a bit dizzy, you think you’ll be okay.

“I’m good,” you nod. “It wasn’t so bad.”

That part is a bit of a lie. It did hurt, after all. But you’re used to dealing with hardship, and if there’s anything your shitty life has taught you, it’s how to suck it up and endure.

The doctor nods, then pulls out an envelope from the inner pocket of his coat. “Here. Your payment for today. As we explained in the contract, all payments will be delivered on-site, immediately after you’ve met with a client. However, it’s up to the client if they wish to see you again, which is why there is no fixed schedule for these appointments.”

“There’s a chance he might not want to see me again?” you frown, taking the envelope into your hands.

“It’s a possibility. All vampires have their own preferences, just like how humans prefer different kinds of food. But even if this particular client chooses not to proceed with your meetings, we can try to match you with a different client. Make sure to check your phone regularly so that we can update you on the situation.”

Right. That makes sense. If the client isn’t satisfied with the quality of their blood, it goes without saying that they wouldn’t want to keep paying for it. It’s kind of like going to a restaurant and ending up with a gross, undercooked meal. Although the analogy is perhaps a bit crude.

“Take it easy for the next little while,” the doctor suggests. “You seem perfectly fine, but you’ve still lost quite a bit of blood, so make sure to put your health first.”

How cute. If only you had the luxury of doing that.

Unfortunately, it’s time to go to work.

You did it. Against all odds, you actually pulled it off.

A few days have passed, and thanks to the payment from selling your blood, a few extra shifts you picked up, and cutting back on meals so that you wouldn’t have to buy groceries again, somehow, you managed to scrounge up all the money Johnny asked for.

You watch, nervously, as he counts the cash you handed him, making sure to be as thorough as possible. It looks like he’s wary of counterfeit bills, or perhaps he just can’t believe that you actually found a way to pay him back.

Whatever the case, this time, you’ve been spared.

“Alright,” he says. “It’s all here. See? I knew you could do it. From now on, I expect this same amount every two weeks, like we agreed on.”

He flashes you a shit-eating grin, then breezes past you, making sure to slap your ass right as he leaves.

You grit your teeth, mortified. Of course, you don’t dare oppose him. You know all too well how things will end if you do.

At least it worked. But meeting his demands every two weeks is going to be ridiculously difficult, and the only way you’ll pull it off is if Xavier calls on you again, or at the very least, another vampire decides to solicit your services.

I never thought it would come to this. To think that I’m actually hoping someone will drink my blood. Life really is a constant fucking struggle.

Nothing’s ever been easy for you. But perhaps things are finally about to change for the better.

The screen of your phone lights up, and as you read the message that just appeared, your eyes widen.

Xavier wants to meet with you again.

“...disgusting,” Felix shudders. He shoves the other person away, much to their bewilderment. “You’re no good. I’ve tried so many of the humans that have signed up for this program, but all of them taste fucking nasty. This is a waste of my time. And don’t expect to be paid.”

He sighs and leaves the room before the foul-tasting human can even protest. Yet another disappointment. To think that he was so excited to move to the big city and see what it had to offer, only to be let down like this.

If this is how things are going to be, then he’s probably better off just obtaining blood pack rations directly from the government. They’re stale and disgusting, but clearly flesh blood is no different here, and he’ll save a lot of money.

Right. That’s what he’ll do. As much as all vampires crave drinking blood directly from the source, what choice does he have, when everyone tastes like absolute shit?

He’s just about to speak to one of the staff and let them know he’s done paying for this program, when suddenly, a sweet scent wafts by him.

Felix immediately knows it’s you. Even for a vampire, his senses have always been unnaturally sharp. Perhaps that’s why he’s so picky when it comes to drinking blood. His taste buds are more sophisticated, more developed, so when something isn’t quite right, he can tell right away.

The same is true for his sense of smell, although it’s rare for a human to smell so appealing, especially since you’re rather far away.

In fact, it might be the very first time anyone has ever smelled this good to him.

Felix watches you walk down the hall, escorted by one of the doctors. You must be here to sell your blood, and the longer he stares at you, the more he finds himself rethinking his earlier decision.

A smile creeps onto his lips.

“Well,” he chuckles softly, “maybe I should give it one last chance.”

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margowritesthings · 1 year ago

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BITE ME

pairing: Vampire!Arthur Morgan x Human!f!reader word count: 4091 words warnings: 18+ minors DNI, explicit sexual content, explicit language, piv intercourse, fingering (r receiving), biting and blood play, vampire feeding authors note: happy halloween my loves! this is a day late, but time isn't real anyway so we can all just pretend it is yesterday... right?? anyway, this au is now living rent free in my mind. i'm obsessed.

taglist:@cowboydisaster @inkandbloodbound @counteveryfreckle @elifsukirdaghehe @reaveries@delilah-grimes@mrsarthurmorgan7 @twola@the-marsh-harrier @wildfloweroutlaw @photo1030 @luvliewriting@pine4pple-b0i @sickvictorianangel

beta read by @cowboydisaster, divider by @saradika

The wooden panels nailed to the broken windows of the manor allow for tiny slats of moonlight to invade onto your skin, bathing you in a white glow. Peering through the gaps, you can see the distant campfire those bastard Pinkertons set up down by the swamp, but you know they’re surrounding you, boxing you into Shady Belle like fish in a barrel.

It’s been three days of a stalemate, the Pinkertons keeping their distance, brave enough to come with guns and firepower but just cowardly enough to not advance towards the monster they’ve heard only legend of, lest he rip their throats out and drain their life away. No, they’d rather wait around until they can drag his starved body out and be hailed heroes.

That “monster” sits mere feet away from you leaning against the wall, pale skin paler still, his chin tilted upwards as he fights the weight of his own skull. It’s killing you, watching your Arthur grow weaker by the hour. Three days of hiding out in Shady Belle, unable to leave for fear of being hunted for sport, but it’s been much longer since he last fed. They have you trapped, completely and truly. If Arthur held even half his usual strength, it would have been so easy to escape. He’d have overpowered them in seconds, no matter their numbers or firepower. But for that, he’d need to feed on the blood of another, which has made things much harder.

You try to relax your worried features when you see him start to wake, rubbing the crease out from between your eyebrows formed by the frown you hold whenever you watch him sleep, too scared to look away in case he stops stirring.

“Arthur…” You whisper on an exhale, quickly moving to sit beside him on the little bed. As always, his skin feels like marble, cold enough to seep through his shirt and scatter goose pimples over your arms. You’re used to the cold, what you don’t like is the thin layer of sweat coating him. Vampires shouldn’t sweat, but they also shouldn’t go so long without feeding, and the thought of this being a symptom of time running out terrifies you more than any number of monsters out camping in those woods.

“Hey, sweetheart…” Arthur shuffles to make room for you, guiding you to rest your head on his hard chest. There’s normally more muscle here cushioning you from his ribcage, but with Arthur so sick you can feel every bone beneath you.

“You get any sleep?”

There’s always the option to lie so he worries less, but Arthur knows you too well for that, so only the truth will have to do.

You shake your head, “Was keeping watch. They haven’t moved, think they’re still shit-scared of you, actually.”

Absent-mindedly, Arthur’s hand gravitates to the top of your head, stroking your hair in such a way that sends tingles down your spine. Even now, in the midst of perhaps the most danger you’ve ever been in together, his very touch has the power to calm you instantaneously.

He huffs a laugh, though you notice the slight wheeze to his breath when he does and another pang of worry hits you, “Course they are. Call themselves goddamn hunters, couldn’t catch a cold in Colter…” A pause, where you fill the silence with that tiny little laugh you’ve barely been mustering lately, then, “You should get some sleep, darlin’.”

“Not tired.” You protest, almost childishly, burying yourself further into Arthur’s chest. In truth, you’re exhausted, and even though he already knows it, you won’t admit it. You can’t tell him that you’re too scared to fall asleep in case you wake up alone, that there’s no point anyway because nightmares of him withering away to nothing here beside you will drag you back awake soon enough.

You both know this can’t go on for much longer. Something has to be done, and you know you have to be the one to do it. It’s just the convincing…

“C’mon, baby…” He starts, but you won’t hear it. You’re not going to sleep. You’re going to fix this.

“You have to feed on me.” You blurt out, glad to be nuzzled into your beloved’s shirt so you don’t have to see whatever expression your statement has pulled from him.

It’s not spontaneous, no sudden solution that has sprung into your mind this very moment. You’ve suggested it before, albeit never so forcefully, Arthur brushing you off like the idea is unfathomable. Explaining that he would never feed from you, terrified he’d lose control and hurt you. He could never hurt you. If there are such things as absolutes, that is one of them, you know it.

“No.” He’s blunt, clearly hoping his tone had enough force to end it there. But you’re strong, your will to keep fighting for him an everlasting force enough to match his.

“Arthur-” You unravel from him to sit up and meet his eye, yours pleading, his hardened.

“Darlin’, I said no. I mean it. I promised you I would never hurt ya’, and shit have I broke a lot of promises in my life… but not that one. N-Never that one. No.”

“You’re going to die, Arthur. If you don’t do this you’re going to die and you’re gonna leave me all on my own to face those bastards a-and,” Dammit, when did you start crying? “And I can’t do it without ya, Arthur you know I can’t-”

“Yes you can-”

“Well I don’t want to!” You shout, bursting the bubble of quiet around the Manor, your echo riding the wave of birds flocking out of the trees. Sobs threaten to break your strength, but you have to say this. It’s the very last card you have to play. After a few moments, tension between you growing palpable enough to cut with a knife, Arthur closes his mouth, letting you continue.

“Arthur, you’re all I have left… You think I’m a sharp enough shooter to get by them? Fine. But say I kill ‘em all, then what? Find somewhere to live and carry on? I ain’t… I can’t lose you, Arthur. But I can save you, if you let me. Please.”

Time feels as though it stops entirely when you see Arthur actually considering your words. Tears streak your cheeks, but your boots could ignite right on your feet and you might not notice in this moment. He looks so tortured in thought, no doubt imagining the life you would lead if you left him behind. He’s sure you’re strong enough, he knows you can do anything, but his heart breaks thinking of you all alone.

You reach for Arthur’s hands, feeling his cold skin tremble.

“I… What if I lose control? What if I hurt you? Sweetheart, you know what I get like when I-”

“But you won’t. You know how much blood I can afford to give you, and I know you, Arthur. You’d never hurt me.”

You elect not to tell him that any blood that runs through your body belongs to him already, your heart pumping it through your veins only for him.

You don’t tell him you’d die for him, because you know he’d never let you.

He’s silent, contemplating.

Please.

“...You start feeling faint or anything, you fuckin’ tell me, alright?” His tone holds an attempt at sternness, but it bothers you none. You can hardly hear him for the rush of relief flowing over you.

“I-I will. I promise.” And you mean it. The two of you are two entwined souls, neither trusting the other to have enough will to keep fighting if anything happened to them.

Arthur takes a deep breath in, almost like he’s giving himself an extra few seconds to back out of this, before sighing it out.

“Alright.”

The breath that hitched in your throat an age ago releases and you wipe your tears away hurriedly with the back of your hand.

“Oh, thank you, Arthur…” You’re so ecstatic, so grateful that he’s letting you save him that all you can do is launch yourself over to him, kissing him with all the passion the universe has offered you to gift him. Your hands fall to either side of his face, caressing his marble skin in a way that emits a tiny groan from him. Over the last few days, you’ve cuddled up to him a lot, but there hasn’t been much contact like this. Needy and wanting, loving and layered with everything from I Love You to Let Me Save You. Arthur is a starved man, but not just for blood. For you, body, blood and soul.

Arthur snakes one arm around your waist, even with his reduced strength still able to pull you over to straddle his lap. You’d have protested, citing that he’s too sick to be holding your weight like this, but now that this is really happening you’re getting kind of nervous, and the thought of being so close to him, arms wrapped around your frame while he feeds on your blood, comforts you hugely. And there’s no backing out, not from this, so straddle him you will.

Despite everything, Arthur’s cool touch sets you aflame. He trails his fingertips up and down your spine, his other hand firmly gripping your ass. His tongue teases your bottom lip until you open up to him, tasting him as he does you. He tastes…like Arthur. He might argue that he’s some monster, committing evil acts in the name of survival, but you know better. He’s your Arthur, he always has been.

The world melts around you, leaving just you and Arthur, loving each other, saving each other. That one long kiss breaks into smaller ones, until Arthur is peppering your lips, cheeks and nose with tiny kisses, glistening red eyes welling with emotion.

“It was always gonna be you, wasn’t it? You were always gonna save me…” He whispers, almost like he doesn’t quite believe it’s real.

“Always. And you’re gonna save me right back, cowboy. But first…” You look down between your two bodies, to the arm you’re holding out to Arthur.

“Are you ready?”

“Does it hurt?” You surprise yourself with your answer to his question, though you stand by it. You’re not scared, you could never be scared with Arthur. But nervous?

“A little. But I’m right here with you. And if you need to stop or take a break or you start feeling off, tell me or tap my arm.” You nod slowly, placing your hand into Arthur’s, “I need a yes, sweetheart… I can’t do this to you unless you’re sure.”

“Yes, Arthur. I’m sure. Please.”

There is one final, apprehensive glance in your direction, which you reply to with another tiny nod. He raises your flesh to his mouth, flashes of his white fangs visible now in the moonlight as he parts his lips.

It’s… strange. A small scratching feeling when his teeth puncture the skin of your wrist that pinches your brows together. There’s a second of nothing, before Arthur starts to feed and steals the breath right out of your lungs.

It’s like you can feel every vein in your body, all connecting and tugging your lifeforce through to your wrist for Arthur to feast on. You can tell the second the first drop hits his tongue, the shudder that wracks through his shoulders and down his spine. His eyes roll back in… pleasure? You’ve seen him feed before, usually such a violent affair, but this is different. You feel vulnerable to him, and as though you hold every ounce of control all at once.

When he groans, deep carmine eyes locking onto yours, you feel it all over, your thighs clenching around your suddenly wanting pussy.

… An unexpected side effect.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline, or the blood rushing around your body, or even the downright ravenous way Arthur is looking at you while he feeds on your blood, but you seem to be physically squirming on the bed, desperate for any kind of friction you can get. Fuck, you’ve never seen anybody react to being fed on like this… Then again, you’ve never seen feeding look or feel like this.

From even the smallest drop of you, what little colour that remains after his change has returned to Arthur’s skin and he looks much closer to alive than just minutes before. He looks himself again, right down to the cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. It does maddening things to you, not at all helping your growing state of arousal.

When his teeth sink out of your wrist, you watch crimson beads pool at two tiny punctures. Without breaking eye contact with you, Arthur lifts your hand back up to him, running the very tip of his tongue agonisingly slowly over the skin, pulling an honest to god whimper from your parted lips.

“You did so good, my good girl…” Arthur coos, an undeniably pleased look upon his face. He’s told you before, that with his heightened senses, Arthur knows when you want him. You also know how energised he gets after feeding, and how all of these factors are leading to a tension so intense between you you’re almost scared of the outcome.

There’s a smudge of blood on Arthur’s lip, one that you reach out to rub away with your thumb. Quick as the predator he is, he grabs your wrist before you can pull away, slipping your thumb into his mouth and sucking the blood gently off. Upon release, he drags one sharpened fang across the pad of your thumb and you shudder, craving that feeling of the bite more than you truly understand.

“A-Arthur…” You whimper, shuddering in pure anticipation and need.

“I know, sweetheart… Christ, I knew you’d taste good, but this? Fuck, you’ve ruined me, baby…”

You can’t wait a second longer, certain you’ll perish unless he is kissing you in the next moment. Entangling your grip into his collar, you find Arthur only too malleable to your touch, all but pouncing on you, locking your lips together. His tongue demands entrance as he easily positions you to be laying under him, Arthur covering the entire length of you and thensome.

“How do you feel, angel?” He asks between kisses, large hands roaming your body, tugging your clothes out of being tucked into each other to make it easier to take them off, “Y’alright? Don’t feel faint?”

“I’m okay. I just- I-I need you, please.” You’re pleading again, this time for very different reasons, “Did you get enough?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you, sweetheart…” He growls, pulling the buttons of your shirt open feverishly. And then his lips are back on your skin, kissing your neck, licking at the skin whilst his hands work your zipper. You moan again, some wanton part of you wishing he would bite down again, marking you all over.

Arthur is losing control in the best way, growling and grinding his erection against your leg as he tries to pull your jeans down. With a little help, he manages, tugging your undergarments with them so you’re completely bare for him.

“So fuckin’ beautiful… my perfect little feast. Fuck, I’m tortured by every second I’m not buried deep inside that weeping cunt of yours,” At that, he runs a finger over your slit, drenching the tip of his finger in your slick, “but I think you deserve a treat for being such a good girl for me…”

There’s no time to consider his offer as he plunges two thick fingers deep inside you, curling them, curling them to hit that sweet spot he knows so well. You scream, absolutely loud enough for any Pinkerton vampire hunters to hear.

“That’s it, huh? That what you needed? That pretty little cunt filling?” He taunts, thumb swirling over your already soaking clit. You can’t speak for crying out, but you manage a nod, feeling yourself stretch around a third finger in a way that has your heart racing even faster.

With your pulse pounding, you can really feel the wounds on your wrist starting to ache and burn. It's a strange sensation, but one that seems to blend into everything else in some twisted bout of pleasure.

Arthur must notice your eyes flickering to it, as he guides your hand back up to his lips with the hand not inside you, pressing the softest kisses over the holes in your skin.

“Look what you did for me… My saviour, my perfect girl…”

“I’d die for you, Arthur.” you confess, the sweetness of his kisses and the languid circles of his fingers pulling you so close to the edge you can feel tears forming behind your eyes.

“It’d never come to that, beautiful. I’d burn the world down before I let your life ever hang in the balance.”

You believe him, too, and the emotion is suddenly too much. You’re hurtling towards an orgasm and you need him closer and all you can seem to think to do is untangle your wrist from his grasp and slip your thumb into his mouth.

He knows what you’re asking for instantly, and you swear you see his inky pupils blow until his eyes are nothing but a reddened void.

“Oh, my pretty little feast…” He groans, pricking your thumb with a fang and sucking gently at the blood. It isn’t nearly as intense as your wrist, but you still feel that tugging everywhere and you can’t stop the lewd moans that fall from your lips as you come undone.

Writing, screaming his name, you feel Arthur suck harder on your thumb, moaning himself at the taste of you. It’s not nearly as much as he was taking before, but enough that your blood blooms over his tongue and fills every one of his senses. He is a man obsessed, and it’s the most beautiful sight as you cum for him.

The waves of euphoria crash over you, each more intense and wonderful than the last. Arthur orchestrates your orgasm through his own pleasure, drawing perfect patterns on your clit in time to his thrusts.

When you come down, he’s there, releasing you from his fangs again to free his lips for yours. Your lips lock together, his body crushing yours into the mattress. You love the feel of all his weight on you, especially when you can feel every pulse of his throbbing cock through the denim of his jeans. Jeans that must go, so you snake a hand into what little space you can between your bodies to reach for his buttons. Arthur helps you, and he’s soon naked on top of you. Wrapping nimble fingers around his shaft, you run your thumb over the rosy head of his cock, swiping at the bead of precum already leaking. He’s desperate for you, and it drives you wild.

You’re already guiding him to your soaked entrance, grinding your hips pathetically, needily. Arthur chuckles softly, taunting you with the smallest of hip movements to slide his tip into you, but stopping there.

“Arthur.” You whine, eyes pleading, cunt dripping for him. Your hands roam the expanse of his back, feeling each muscle twitch under your touch, scratching at the cool skin like a cat in heat.

“I know, baby, I know… I’ll make it better.” He purrs, finally sliding the entire length of his cock into your heat. It stretches you in that beautiful way only he can and you moan, deep and visceral. Your nails leave white scratches across Arthur’s back as your hands float up to cup his cheeks, pulling him into a deep kiss as his groin presses hard into yours.

“Oh, my beautiful girl… I’m gonna fuck you so hard they’re gonna hear you up in Saint Denis… them Pinkertons out there are gonna think I’m draining every last drop of that sweet blood out of your precious little body.”

Such a violent image, but somehow… you enjoy the thought. You’d bleed for him till the end of time, gladly… you’d lay down your life on a slab and be Arthur’s for the taking.

You can’t think of the words to tell him how much you want what he’s telling you, letting the passion guide you to bite down on Arthur’s lower lip. A taste of his own medicine. He has no blood of his own to give, but you’re biting down hard enough to have drawn some if he did, dragging another feral grown from the depths of his throat.

True to his word, with just a few perfectly timed thrusts, you’re screaming his name, cunt fluttering around his thick cock and squeezing every inch of it. That full feeling is so wonderful, so bone-deep and euphoric you’re on the precipice of another orgasm in seconds. He can tell, slowing down and hanging you right over the edge with a wicked grin on his face. You whine and whimper, clawing at the back of his neck to pull him even closer.

“What do you want, little feast? Use your words.” He pushes, still dragging his cock up against your walls in the most torturous of ways.

“I want… I-I need… I-I… urgh!” You cry out in frustration, each syllable leaving your lips earning another thrust that dizzies you to the point of cock-drunk stuttering. Fuck words. You’ll show him.

With a strength you didn’t even know you possessed, you pull Arthur closer, guiding him to the crook of your neck.

“Angel, I don’t know if I can control myself if I taste you agai-”

“Please…” you whimper, rocking your hips up to meet Arthur’s movements, clit grinding deliciously against his pubic bone.

Arthur’s eyes meet yours and you’re lost in them, convinced you’ve never been held so close to climax for so long before, but your body knows what it wants, what it needs to get there with Arthur.

“Fuck, if I could die, you’d be the death of me…” Are the last words he speaks before sinking his teeth into your neck, in perfect time with a deep thrust of his cock. You scream, in pain, in pleasure, all of it, finally falling over that cliff and crashing into the waves below. You drown in your orgasm, dragging Arthur down with you as he sucks the sweet ichor out of your veins. With your blood on his tongue and his name on your lips, you cum together. The vibrations of his carnal moans tickle your neck, layering yet another juxtaposing sensation onto you.

He releases, only to whisper sweet words of praise into your bleeding skin, “Look at you, giving me this… you’re doing so good for me, ain’t ya? My little angel, my good girl…”

And he’s biting down again, and you’re chanting his name, legs wrapped tight around his hips, tears you don’t remember shedding streaking down your cheeks. It feels like you stay there for an eternity, connected mind, body and soul. You would stay there for an eternity with him, if he’d only let you. But that’s another story…

It stings a little when Arthur unleashes his teeth from you, and you wince. His hand is there instantly, caressing the surely reddened skin as his brows pull together, “You okay? I didn’t go too far, did I? Y’feelin’ alright?”

You shake your head softly, a blissful smile gracing your lips, “I’m perfect.”

“Damn straight you are.” He remarks, slowly sliding out of you and lowering his weight onto the bed beside you.

“What about you? How are you feeling?” You ask, entwining your fingers together and holding them up into the moonlight. There's a streak of your blood crossing over a few of Arthur’s knuckles. It suits him.

“Never better.” He says honestly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Thank you, darlin’. I’ll never be able to thank ya’ enough for what you did, but I promise you I’ll get us out of here alive. Well… y’know what I mean.”

You giggle, sure you may never get used to the fact that the love of your life is dead.

“You don’t need to thank me, Arthur. You’ve given me your life a million times, it’s only fair I get to do the same.”

And you mean it. You would do it a thousand times over, giving your life to Arthur while he gives his afterlife to you, saving each other until the end of time.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead redemption 2

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comfreyhollywings · 4 months ago

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pac reading - need self-love tips? c'mere.

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L O A D I N G . . .

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pile 1.

protect yourself.

i don’t think you quite know how valuable your energy is

like.. guys. i feel like we need to have a lesson solely on the beauty of pouring into your own cup, and to force yall to see how others are inspired by that.

and when you’re in that state where you can just flow; to protect yourself, you naturally shine so bright.

just now— a black wisp of smoke just hovered right in front of my eyes before dissipating. there’s a lot more smoke coming out of my candle purging out this smoke as we speak.

that’s naturally a sign for me that.. if you love yourself; if you want to invest more into yourself, purge the things that are unnecessarily sucking your energy away.

aka energy vampires (doesn’t have to be this figure, could be an energy in your life)

like.. i think… when you properly pour into yourself, you tend to have a lot to give. while this is naturally a good thing to have such a generous heart, you can’t give forever. you can’t give from a place of depletion

especially if others only know how to take, take, take.

there’s something a former mentor said to me in this regard.

“the issue is that giving relentlessly can solicit the very sort of people who have no second thoughts about taking, and never giving. and it's not even always malicious. it's just their dysfunction meets another dysfunction.”

take it from me, someone who’s currently still learning this lesson right now.

i will be so real with y’all

i’m currently going through a period where i’ve distanced myself from my partner of (seven-ish) months after learning that i was the one putting in more effort in emotional labor than my partner.

and it’s not even that my partner had malicious intentions about it

it was just that

he hadn’t developed the emotional maturity let alone apply it to his life. and it’s shit that he had to figure out.

because of this, i felt as if i had to partly take on the burden. not that it was a conscious thing, but it was moreso subconscious where i was driven by kindness to pour into him

as that’s what any decent human being would do, right?

but the taking. it kept taking, taking, and taking. the reciprocity wasn’t really… there much anymore.

codependent tendencies? yes. and it’s shit he individually has to figure out.

the same energy applies to your situation. i’m not sure if these are things you also are sorting out right now, but please know this:

you can act from a place of kindness. absolutely. depending on your situation, you don’t have to cut them off. (if you’re in an abusive dynamic, that’s another story. you CANNOT fix them. you CANNOT change them, period. please get out asap as much as you can. i’ll provide resources. )

you’ll naturally feel like an asshole when you set up boundaries, when you distance yourself, etc etc.

but the thing is that you will need that. to drive yourself to the brink of exhaustion for the sake of others leaves you with little energy for yourself.

like… you fight for others, but who will fight for you? you know? especially when you don’t even recognize the situation you’re in?

prioritize yourself more. examine your needs closely. get out of situations that you know is going to drain you.

maybe it’ll feel like shit initially. like, of course these are bad habits you need to address.

but i promise you, it’s worth it. please keep going.

pile 2.

be gentle with yourself.

two things you must foster: your autonomy and your sense of abundance.

in simple terms: you’re worth being a fucking person standing on your own, you stubborn little fucking gem.

you’re not like. this idealized concept that people make out of you.

you’re not a goddamn concept.

you’re a person. a living, breathing person with needs and wants and dreams

goddammit you deserve to be loved.

please treat yourself with a lot more kindness and autonomy than you have ever done with the people you love.

gods know you deserve it

like christ

this is my pile who probably has self-esteem issues, huh (i say that as if i don’t have weird shit going on with my self-esteem but whatever)

work, work, work. it’s always work with others. it’s always prioritizing their needs before your own.

it’s the tight ball you feel in your chest that gets lodged up inside your throat. it’s the hard swallow as you bite your tongue back. it’s the coughing when you’re in the middle of a sentence before someone takes over without any regard for you.

and it’s not like you’re unable to redirect the spotlight over to you. you absolutely can.

however. like

god forbid you make mistakes right? like, god forbid that you don’t run your mind through a fucking cheese grater if you’re not like a radar.

god forbid you’re not constantly detecting what preconceived faults you have of yourself.

because if you don’t, are you even worthy of love at all?

here’s a secret: you don’t need to work to earn love. your self-worth isn't dictated by how much you pump out to the world.

yes, it requires work to keep love alive, but there’s a vast difference between that and EARNING love.

you are worthy. you are seen. you are accepted for the way that you are.

all of you.

your flaws, your tics, your anger, your hurt, and your sorrow.

and likewise, your love, your passions, your healing, and your joy.

you are worth being gentle to yourself. you are worth the grace you extend out for others. you are worth taking up space.

take off the mask. take off the notion of “perfection”. take off the need to people please. take off the need for constant validation outside of yourself.

sit with yourself. journal. purge. and forgive yourself for the things you’ve been unfair to you about. all of these judgments and old standards that don’t serve you anymore, that you punish yourself for.

you’re enough. stop it.

c’mere pile 2, let me hug you.

you are worthy of it all, my loves.

pile 3.

listen to yourself. give yourself the space to let your voice be heard.

you have such a wonderful, unique, and creative voice that you restrain others from hearing.

it roots back to pile 2’s perceived ‘imperfections’ that they try to adhere to

thus, resulting in them being harsh on themselves.

so let me tell you this: you are lovely.

and your voice deserves to be heard.

additionally, your voice is not just deserving

it’s needed for a time like this. you have a message specifically encoded to you that you’ll have to ground and manifest into the world through your creative works, and it’s time for you to see that.

it’s time for you to honor the creativity bestowed upon you because that is your voice that’ll touch people’s hearts.

that’s the voice that you need to hear from yourself the most.

let things flow, let things come, let them be like water. let your creations permeate and adapt to objects, places, and people.

let it breathe, let it live rather than killing it prematurely.

as i’m writing, i’m hearing this song: frequency by jhene aiko.

a lot of that song talks about blessings and freedom. freeing cities, freeing their seed (the next generation), giving freedom and mercy. it talks about anointing, pouring that oil so that the generations before and after can become kings and queens.

this is a very universal and empathetic song that got channelled out.

so i feel like in many forms no matter the genre, whether it’s through a medium like writing, game dev, videos, podcast, art, and so on

all of your works have these themes in common: freedom, blessings, and generations.

what i want to warn you about though in pursuing your art forms

don’t let ego get the best of you.

now i’m not necessarily talking about arrogance (though that very well might be the case but that normally lies within a much deeper issue of having your self-esteem bloat as a way to overcompensate for your idea of self-worth)

i’m talking about letting your insecurities of looking ‘stupid’ get the best of you because you risk ‘cringing’ at your works.

but the thing with art is that you’re going to have to be stupidly earnest because that is your entire essence.

and if you think about it, a lot of cringe is just

sincere? and earnest?

just get it out there. don’t compare yourself to anybody. your journey is your own, so there’s no need to be anyone or anything

be you

that’s all that matters.

trust me, the you authentically reading this is more powerful than any heroes/idols that you’ve ever grown up putting on a pedestal.

kill your heroes, put down that pedestal.

you’re just as worthy of creating; your heroes are no better than you.

#pac tarot #tarot #tarot card #tarot reading #self-love reading #self-love #pick a card #intuitive readings #intuitive messages #tarot messages #messages from spirit #pick a picture #pick a pile #pick a pile reading #pick a pile tarot

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crushedbyhyperbole · 9 months ago

Text

Cherry Pie Kiss

Slice One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Summary: The pie thief has struck again. You know who it is but how to prove it? The answer is on the tip of his tongue.

Words: ~900

A/N: So this is SPN fic number two. The idea of Dean being such a pie fiend that he would steal someone else's pie from the fridge and deny it afterwards, really amused me. I obviously didn't get the desire to kiss him out of my system after the first SPN fic I wrote so here's another one 😂 It's not smut but there is mild adult themes which is why I ask minors not to read or interact. Reader is as generic as I can make but I have referenced as female. I hope you enjoy, and as always, I value your feedback and comments 💖

Warnings: kissing, mild violence, bad language as standard. Dean is an asshole. Reader is a bit of an asshole too. They're probably made for each other.

*** Minors do not read or interact ***

Dean Winchester. You hate him. His arrogance, his smug superiority, the way he always acts like he’s untouchable… his goddamn pretty mouth. Ugh! Asshole!

You didn’t always hate him – you had known him for years, one hunter to another – but, since you had been forced to stay with both he and Sam in the bunker these last couple of months, he had really grated on your nerves.

After your hunt of a large nest of vampires had gone wrong, you had become the hunted. Your home decimated, your family too precious to put at risk by you staying with them; you had needed help.

Sam had insisted, so you agreed to stay with them until your vamp problem could be solved. Only the nest turned out to be much bigger and far wider spread than you had first thought, and it was taking time for even the infamous Winchester brothers to put an end to.

The light in the refrigerator is stark as you stare inside. It’s gone. You slam the door, raging internally. Why can you not have anything to yourself in this goddamn place?

“DEAN!” You shout angrily at the top of your lungs, knowing he can hear you from his room down the hall, even with his music playing.

He won’t respond to you. He never does. Why should he? You’re just some girl he’s got to put up with for a while. Some girl he made a pass at that first week you were here, but you shut him down and he’s been an asshole to you ever since.

You storm up to his door and bray your fist against the wood as hard as you can. “I know you’re in there! Get your ass out here now!” You shout and hammer your fist against the door until you hear him moving inside.

The door clunks as he unlocks it, and it swings open to reveal him stood in the doorway in a navy blue robe and slippers. The light from his lamp is dim but warm, his music a moderate volume for the late hour. He looks irritated that you’ve disturbed him, that quizzical frown and pout are a dead giveaway. Good.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” He smirks at you.

“You!” You push past him, and he doesn’t try to block you.

“What now?”

This isn’t the first time you’ve had this argument and it probably won’t be the last. Whenever Sam isn’t around, Dean always does something to piss you off, like he’s trying to bait you.

“You ate my pie! AGAIN!”

His expression is schooled into that self-righteous assuredness it always is when you confront him. His hands go to his hips – which looks ridiculous because of the robe – and he shifts his weight onto his other foot.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” He says with a frown, and it’s entirely plausible that you’ve made a mistake, except it’s just the two of you here and you didn’t eat the damn pie. “I haven’t seen any damn pie.”

“Oh yeah?!” You square up to him, looking up into his eyes, unblinking, unphased.

“Yeah!” He doubles down, firmly meeting your stare, leaning closer as if you would be intimidated by that.

It’s a short distance you need to cover and he is unprepared. You expect him to push you away but he flounders, arms flailing and uncoordinated when you grip the lapels of his robe and pull him towards you.

When your lips meet he puckers up and blinks in shock, but you don’t give him time to realise what’s happening. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him tight as you slip your tongue between his lips, plundering his mouth.

It takes a beat, but he responds by gripping your hips and holding you against him, moaning into your mouth as he opens up to you. The heat of his response takes you by surprise, but it shouldn’t have, really. He’d wanted this since the first few days you were here. Wanted you.

You ravage his mouth, your hands in his hair, making it messy as you practically melt into his arms. His tongue plays perfectly with yours, his lips soft and yielding. Dean Winchester is an exceptional kisser. This fact makes you hate him even more.

As you pull back, breathless, Dean grins at you. He looks happy and care-free, like the cat that got the cream. Your face, however, holds a scowl.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” His expression changes to concern.

You lick your lips and it’s just as you thought, the sweet buttery goodness of pie crust and the pleasant tartness of sour cherry. You slap him across the face – not hard but just enough to get his attention – and stride to the door leaving him confused.

“What the hell?!” He rounds on you, his arousal tenting his robe.

“Don’t you dare eat my pie again.”

You leave your warning hanging in the air along with his frustration. A smirk playing on your lips at the sight you had just left behind you; Dean Winchester with kiss-swollen lips and a hard-on for you. It isn’t the worst thing you’ve seen but you still hate him, even if there’s now something else there along side it.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester kiss #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader kiss #spn #spn fanfic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #dean x reader #cloudy's writing

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starlightandfairies · 7 months ago

Note

Hiiii I hope you don’t mind me requesting again! I love the one you did for me! It made me incredibly happy.

May I request a Lorenzo St. John x female reader? This time I was thinking of a lot of fluff and hurt/comfort? If that’s okay of course. Again, human reader please. This time reader is very stubborn and always acts tough. She dislikes supernaturals a lot. She’s friends with Elena and her group.

One day reader gets kidnapped and threatened by an enemy vampire if the Salvatore’s. The brothers save her, but once she gets home she starts to panic and cry because she’s had enough and doesn’t know if she can take anymore of the supernatural drama. But Enzo stops by her house to ask for a favor and the reader acts like she’s fine but it’s obvious she’s been crying and he tries to comfort her, despite her not liking him much.

Ahhh sorry this is long again! I just have so many ideas….um ignore this if it’s too much. I hope you have a wonderful full day and night!!

Description: The reader is kidnapped by an old enemy of the Salvatores and as tries to pretend that everything is okay but fails at doing so.

Warnings: she/her pronouns, fluff, swearing

*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, check my character list and requesting rules.*

I honestly got so excited when you requested Enzo! Thank you for requesting again and yay! I'm so happy the other one made you happy. I'm glad! I'm honestly not happy about how this one turned out but I hope you still enjoy it regardless.

Key: Y/N = Your Name, L/N = Last name, POV = Point of view

Word Count: 1,358

First Person's POV

Once I turned 18 I promised I would leave Mystic Falls for good. This town is a goddamn beacon for chaos and danger. I wouldn't even be surprised if a hole to the end of the world opened right in the centre of town. One thing I hated more than maths was the supernatural beings that thought the world revolved around them. Of course, I loved Caroline, Bonnie and Elena. I tolerated Stefan and Damon but the others... the others it depended on who they were and what they've done. I tried my best to stay away from the chaos that the group got themselves into, sometimes it was relatively easy and other times it was damn hard.

Every day I make a bet with myself about if it's gonna be an easy day or a damn hard day. I made a bet that it'll be a damn hard day. I don't know what gave me that feeling, it was just that uneasy feeling when I woke up this morning and considering that the Salvatores had been kidnapped and beaten the last few days, I just assumed that the streak of unpleasantness would continue.

Heading towards the town square, I stood, waiting for the girls to show up, putting myself on edge due to the sudden paranoia that someone would be out to get me.

I don't know how it happened, or when it happened but I woke up, tied up and sitting on a mattress laid across the ground. I refused to cry, I would not let myself be seen as weak and give whatever asshole decided to use me as fish bait.

"Y/n... Y/n... Y/n..." I stared angrily at the figure, recognising the person as a Traveller, I rolled my eyes and stared at the figure flabbergasted as he slapped me.

"I need the Salvatores to come here, I see them with you, so here we are," I grunted through the rag, groaning as he pulled it from my mouth and went to speak but was literally hushed by the twit. He put his damn finger on my lips with a tut to silence me.

"Listen here... I don't care about how you want to run your damn mouth, I don't have the time, all I care about is bringing the Salvatores here and following the plan."

"And that would be?"

"Noneya."

"Oh, how mature," I muttered, hissing in pain as his fist collided with my face, I took another breath and smiled at the man showing that I didn't care and that it didn't faze me at all. I grunted as he shoved the rag back in and proceeded to pace the room. I couldn't help but flinch as the door slammed open and within the blink of an eye the Salvatores easily dealt with the guy and the adrenaline seemed to take away my thought processing and I ended up back home without really realising it.

I took a shower, got into my pyjamas, plopped down on the couch and that's when it all came out. I could feel my hands begin to shake, a tightness in my chest formed that made it hard to breathe. The tears came cascading down, the whole room seemed to spin and I couldn't stop my sobs from escaping. I do not want to go through that again, I do not want to be kidnapped and hurt. I can't go through that, this is all too much, maybe I should just move away? Get away from the town of death and suffering.

I couldn't tell you how long I had been crying for, I couldn't even tell you how the panic attack stopped or if it even stopped. I was sitting in a pool of tissues, I had already nearly gone through an entire box, I don't think I've cried this much before, I can't think of a time when the pain has been this bad.

I jumped hearing a knock on my door, I quickly and roughly rubbed my eyes doing my best to make the tears go away and hope that whoever it was wouldn't need anything from me. I forced a smile to my lips as I opened the door, surprised to see the lovely Enzo there, he was a vampire I liked and I will admit there are times when I prefer him over the Salvatores but also just like most of the supernatural my tolerance normally ran low.

"Enzo- hi."

"Hello, gorgeous... listen I need a favour-" The vampire cut himself off, he glanced around to the living area and then back at me. I did my best to keep smiling, not wanting to let my guard down.

"Gorgeous, what's going on?"

"I'm fine Enzo, listen I've got a busy day tomorrow and as much as I'm sure the favour cannot wait I cannot help you today." I tried closing the door on him, groaning as he easily stopped it and slipped into my home. I bit the inside of my cheek, finding it harder and harder to continue pretending that I was okay.

"You've been crying..."

"N-no I haven't. I said I am fine." I tried to make my words more pointed, hoping he'll truly believe that I was 'fine' but Enzo is smart and it was clear that my bullshit lies weren't enough to convince him.

"Talk to me, please." I wrapped my arms around myself, shaking my head, the tears inevitably coming, I could feel my lips quivering and my body shake as the sobs escaped my lips. I could feel Enzo leading me to the couch, he brushed away the tissues and sat beside me.

"Y/n... what's going on? What happened."

"I- one of the travellers took me and used me as bait to draw in the Salvatores... I can't deal with the supernatural any longer... I don't want to go through that again. This- this anxiety, I can't... I won't go through that again. I'm so scared Enzo, I can't keep pretending that I'm fine because everyone looks to me because they think I'm tough but the truth is-" I let out a sob that would prevent me from going on any further without struggling to voice my concerns. I shook my head, angry with myself for blubbering in front of Enzo.

I felt him wrap an arm around me, he lightly rubbed my shoulder, against all my wishes, I let myself curl against him. At that moment I didn't care about who was comforting me, all I cared about was seeking someone who would offer me the comfort I clearly needed.

"I can make it easier for you- I can... if you're comfortable, I can compel you... I can make it go away." I considered, that maybe it would make it easier to just disappear... make it easier to get away from all of this. I was about to allow him to do that but then I thought of Bonnie and Caroline and Elena... I couldn't do that to them.

"N-no, no. Thank you."

"If you ever change your mind... I know we aren't close, I think you don't like me at all but I'll make it go away. If you ever want." I took a few deep breaths, nodding and appreciating that Enzo would do this for me even after knowing that I wasn't his biggest fan.

"I don't not not like you but- it's not important right now."

"You know, you know gorgeous... I still think you are pretty tough, you know it's okay to cry and it's okay be worired." It felt reassuring to know that, I never wanted to let anyone down and I wanted them to know that I am strong and I am tough. That these things won't bother me or effect me.

"Means a lot to me."

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