#someone help i feel so fucking hallow

[chicken-magnet]

hey google, what are you supposed to do when it finally sinks in that one of the few relatives that you actually like* would never accept you if they ever found out who you really are and you feel like something in you just broke?

[casiavium]

I love the song O Children by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds and yes I know it from Deathly Hallows part one but outside of that it's such a good song. It's about bittersweet death and Orpheus and Eurydice and the song just. Songs so good

And I WILL fight any self righteous ex Harry Potter fan that tries to pull some SHIT that it's about the Holocaust (and therefore should not have been used in the movie which I don't care about the artisy agreed to it so. Whatever. He got paid) IT'S FUCKING NOT you DUMB PIECE OF SHIT WITH NO MEDIA LITERACY show me a source that says this that's not some Harry Potter fan's Tumblr post from 2011. Show me it. Show me an interview with the artist. Show me exactly why you think it's about the Holocaust. Oh, trains leading to death? Because Harry Potter is a thinly veiled and pathetic attempt at WWII parallels? (and if we're going by that do you have a deathly hallows tattoo because if you're so 1:1 about this. you do know the deathly hallows is her fucking. symbolic equivalent to you-know-what. Oh that's offensive? YOU DON'T THINK???)

Because HAVE YOU WVER HEARD OF POETIC IMAGERY IN YOUR DAMN LIFE how could you have ever called yourself a Harry Potter fan without the basic ability to understand sometimes things are not LITERAL. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

[chleem]

Hallow's eve

Oneshot; exes drew x yn

Summary: drew wasn’t the type to get jealous. And tonight, on hallow’s eve, is his first time experiencing this bitter emotion. 

Genre: exes to lovers, smut, angst, fluff 

Warnings: cursing, unprotected sex, etc

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

♡⸝⸝ happy halloween!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“You can’t be fucking serious,”

Drew laughs bitterly, his eyes landing on you. 

The light blue corset, leathered mini-skirt, police badge, duty belt, and bunny ears are all too recognizable to him. A seducing touch to the costume of Judy Hopps from Zootopia. It shows off your curves beautifully, everything about it made you look more sensual than usual. 

But the main reason for his bitterness isn’t because of your costume, rather…who you’re matching with. 

His friend Paul. Whose wearing what was supposed to be Drew’s, the Nick Wilde costume. 

Fuck. It’s been a month since the breakup, and you show up with his friend?

“Shit, did you know about this?”

Drew forces his eyes away from you, turning the Keith. His lips are pursed, clenching on his jaw tightly. All the emotions are coming back to him all at once; regret, anger, and confused. “Does it look like I know?” He doesn’t even try to hide the sourness in his voice. 

Keith nervously glances to the side; he knows Drew isn’t over you. Hell, Drew didn’t even try to get over you, and everyone knew it. Dated for a year…how is one suppose to forget about that? “Shit man…”

Drew sighs, turning his gaze back to you. He hasn’t seen you for a whole month…and you looked beautiful. 

And Drew of course knew how much he missed you, shit, everything he did he thought of you. Waking up? Why weren’t you in his bed. Showering? Why weren’t you helping him wash his hair. Eating? Why weren’t you sitting in the seat beside him. 

And seeing you hold Paul’s hand, greeting others with a soft smile; that should be him standing beside you. 

“They’re…probably not even together,” Keith tries to make the situation look better than it is. 

Then, while you’re talking to someone dressed as a mummy, Paul distracts himself by planting kisses along your jaw. “Not together, huh?” Drew snickers at the audacity of Paul, doing that to you. He should know better than to touch what’s his. 

Drew’s whole costume feels annoying now. Obviously, breaking up with you meant having no costume. So, he improvised to dress up as Patrick Bateman, from American Psycho. 

He shrugs the clear raincoat off, hanging it on a random coat hanger that happens to be in a kitchen. He loosens his tie, pouring himself another round of drinks. 

When Drew glances at Keith, he sees a sly smile on his face. What the fuck-

“You’re jealous, man.”

Jealous? To Drew, it was an ugly and immature emotion. Only insecure people feel that way. Drew wasn’t insecure, god no.

No. That just wasn’t who Drew was, to be jealous. 

Besides, what’s there to be jealous of? He knows you too well, you’re definitely just bitter. Because out of all his friends, you hate Paul the most.

His mind was just playing tricks on him. 

But fuck- how much he wanted to punch Paul still, and claim the spot next to you. 

“No,” Drew laughs it off, sounding as if he’s being held at gunpoint. He downs the drink in his hand in one sip, and says more firmly this time, “no.”

Keith raises an eyebrow at him; obviously not believing his friend. “Nah, you jealous. Jealous that Paul gets all that now.”

Ew. That thought disgusts Drew. “Fuck off-“

Someone yells for a game of truth or dare in the living room. Drew’s eyes immediately find themselves on you, even with the huge amount of costumes in here. Paul ushers you to join; reluctantly, you follow him. 

Seems like Drew’s also playing. 

——

Amidst the loud Halloween party, a game of truth or dare begins. Refusing to answer or do the dare, results in a penalty drink. 

Paul’s hand on your thigh makes you want to throw up. You hated this guy; why, out of anyone, did you ask him to be your date?

Your stupid pride got the worst of you, refusing to show up at the party alone, especially with the chance of seeing Drew. You suspected that he must have moved on, so you decided to show how ‘well’ you were doing.

Wrong. Everyone close to you knew how many sleepless nights you’ve had in the last month, depressed and withered away in your room. Really, getting ready tonight was an impossible task too. 

Paul is…disrespectful, awkward, inappropriate, the list goes on. He’s not close with Drew; but still, it bothered you that he was always at hangouts. Once, he made a move on you (a rather rude, pushy one) while you were still with Drew. 

Yep. Now thinking back, you would’ve preferred to come alone instead of with this prick. 

“You good?”

Yeah, if you take your hand off me. “Lovely,” you manage to breathe out, focusing your gaze at the circle that has now formed in the living room. 

Your eyes land on Drew; pulling a random chair and sitting down, manspreading. He never looked finer, in his American Psycho costume. And plus, his hair. The last time you saw him, he had bangs. Not that this new buzzcut looked bad; it gave a whole new demeanor to Drew, one that was more matured. 

Wow. Looking at him, you realize how much you miss him. You wanted to go sit next to him, run your hands through his buzzcut, and just talk to him, hear his deep, calming voice. 

Shit. He makes eye contact with you, and for the first time, you can’t tell what’s on his mind. Is he mad? Regretful? Or does he…even care? You watch as his eyes scan down your body, lingering longer on your legs. Or rather, Paul’s hand there. 

“Alright…who wants to go first?” Some person you don’t know, speaks up, sitting down on the couch. 

The eye contact breaks, with Drew turning his face away, drinking the cup in his hand. 

Huh.

Someone volunteers for a dare, but you don’t show much interest. This is a stupid game anyways. 

During the game, Paul would whisper something dirty in your ear, which honestly, pissed you off more. When he kissed your jaw earlier, that was already crossing the line. But you could feel someone watching you intensively, so you go along with it; smiling, whispering back, responding to his touches. You hoped that someone would call on you, just so you could leave Paul’s side for a while. 

And as if some angel heard you, halfway through the game-

“Drew, truth or dare?”

That caught your attention, but you try not to show it. You make subtle glances in his direction, wondering what he was going to chose. 

“Dare,” his voice is deep, just like how you last remembered it. 

The person asking was his friend, Keith. He hung around so much, that you can easily recognize the mischievous glint in his eyes; he’s gonna say something crazy. 

You’re right; because he says, “7 minutes in heaven. With y/n.”

The people in the circle all murmur and woo, in anticipation. Great. Was there anyone here that didn’t know about the breakup?

You can’t help but smile down at your lap, at how ridiculous this dare is. Surely, Drew wouldn’t say yes, right? You couldn’t tell; his face showed no emotion towards that dare. 

“Say no, alright?” Paul’s disgusting voice forces you to look over at him. 

Did you want to say no? 

You take a good look at Paul’s face; maybe saying no isn’t the worst idea. Being locked somewhere awkward with Drew sounded better than…actually, better than anything. 

Suddenly, you feel a heavy presence standing close to you. And when you look over, it’s Drew. He stands in front of you, and he holds out a hand for you to take.

You look up at his face, hints of eagerness only you could notice. He nods gently towards his hand, telling you to take it. 

“Yo dude, she doesn’t wants to go-“

You take it. Your hand comes in contact with the familiar warmth, the hands that you always found comfort in. You let him pull you out of Paul’s arms, a little too rough, and you stumble a bit. 

You smile awkwardly, holding onto his hand hard to regain your balance. “Hey, I’ll be here waiting for you,” Paul continues to say. 

“Sure,” you force out, adjusting your skirt. Deep down, you’ve never been more glad to be rescued by Drew. 

——

He’s walking at a fast pace, and with his grip on your hand tight, you can tell how urgent he is. His patience slips away with each tug he gives to each door he passes by, occupied by strangers already. 

“Maybe we should just give up-“

The last door is budged opened, and when the two of you glance inside, it’s empty. 

“Great,” you murmur awkwardly, before forcing your hand out of his. You don’t want to do so; but given the current situation between you two, it’ll feel weird if you continue to hold his hand. 

You brush past him into the small bedroom, and sit yourself on the bed. This bunny headband was getting itchy, so you take it off, putting it beside you. 

You watch as Drew locks the door behind him, sliding his suit jacket off. Woah, woah, woah, is he stripping? “Um…what are you doing?”

His blue eyes stare blankly into yours; as he lazily rolls his sleeves up. “the walking, it gets hot.”

Oh. He…yeah, it might get too hot from all the fast walking. Why would he strip? Drew wasn’t that kind of person, what were you thinking? You look down at your lap; embarrassed of your own thoughts. 

Well…this is awkward. The only sound in here was the faint music from downstairs. 

And then Drew sits down on the bed, next to you. The mattress dips under his weight, his scent (he smells real good) hitting you, and just his overall presence. 

That damn buzzcut. What even motivated him to get his entire head shaved? You were curious; and you wanted to know what happened to him in the past month. Was he also miserable like you? Or did he forget about everything-

“Paul, huh?”

He’s leaned forward; so you can’t really tell his expressions. But his voice comes out deep and almost hushed, like he needed to force it out. 

Your heart was beating fast, why were you nervous? It was just Drew; you’ve dated him for a year, known him for more than that. Yet, every action and word he says can still made you flustered. “Well, he has a thing for me.”

Was that the right response? You weren’t sure; Drew answers a few seconds later, “I know,” you watch his back muscles through his see-through button up tense, “just didn’t know you had a thing for him.”

Almost forgot how well he knew you. “People can change,” you shrug, trying to act cool. 

That earns a ‘tsk’ of disapproval from him, and he leans back. He turns towards you; the pretty blue of his eyes staring into yours. “Not you.”

“Could say the same about you,” you bitterly reply, referring to the breakup. It was out of character for him to just dump you, saying he was ‘busy’. A dick move, to be honest. 

Drew rolls his eyes upward; as if thinking of a response. His lips are slightly pursed; and you see the amusement in them. 

“Am I wrong?” You press, and suddenly, the depression from the past month has surfaced into anger. Anger towards Drew. “You have no right to say that-“

“You’re dating Paul,” he emphasizes on the last part, his eyebrows furrowed at you. “Paul, for god’s sake.”

You shake your head, a sour smile on your lips. The anger inside of you begs to be released, and as a way of spreading it out, you stand up. So mad, you can’t even sit still. “So what? Why do you care, we broke up-“

“A month, only for a month!” He raises his voice slightly louder than yours, and he also stands up now. This escalated fast. “And Paul. Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes I am! More than ever, you got a problem with that?” You provoke, the two of you standing in less than a meter from each other. He stares down at you, and even with your angered mind, his proximity still drives you insane. “Let’s not forget that you dumped me-“

“You’re dating Paul?” He asks once again, realizing that you didn’t correct him from earlier. His face shows it all; betrayal and disgust.

 You laugh at him, rather distastefully, “Do you not hear yourself right now? You’re worried about that-“

“You dating him or not?”

He just stays in place, towering over you. That question lingers in the air, his jealousy heavy. He watches you, and you see a mixture of longing and frustration in them. He’s practically begging you with his eyes at this point. 

The devil on your shoulder pushes you to lie, “we’ve been seeing each other.”

He immediately steps away from you, pacing around the room with his hands running through his scalp. He turns back around to you, but stands at a distance now, “y/n, what the fuck-“

“Why are you getting mad at me?” You yell back, your voice cracking. 

“I don’t believe you,” he harshly denies, shaking his head. 

Fights with Drew was never like this; he would apologize quickly and fix the problem. Tonight? You might’ve just pissed him off to the point of no return. 

You tuck your hair behind your ears, before placing them on your hips firmly. “Well, that’s the truth, whether you like it or not-“

“I don’t fucking believe you, y/n,” he denies once again. 

“You saw him around me, what else do you-“

“I don’t believe you,” he repeats, closing the distance between the two of you again. You gulp at his presence towering over you; this time, there’s an edge to his demeanor. Knowing that you lied, it felt dangerous to be standing this close to him. “You’re bluffing, I know it.”

The sharpness in his eyes glints with challenge, searching for the truth in yours. He won’t be easily swayed; he knew you too well. 

You cock your head to the side, the same challenge in your eyes that mirrors back to him. You don’t miss it; the jealously in his. He’s jealous right now! 

No wayyy he’s jealous. Years you’ve known him; never once have you seen him jealous. Drew was that kind of person; unbothered and sure about himself. At first it frustrated you, it seemed like he didn’t care. But you soon learned that it just meant he trusted you, never questioning about your friendships or interactions.

But still, he’s jealous right now! For the very first time! And you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t tease him about it. C’mon, this man was jealous of Paul. How cute. “You’re jealous,” you say, failing to hide the amusement in your tone. “You’re fucking jealous right now-“

“No,” he firmly denies it. 

“Yes, you are. You, Drew Starkey, is jealous-“

“I’m not fucking-“

“Yes! You’re jealous!” You point out, a bit too cheerful at that. You almost forget that you’re suppose to be angry at him, “You’re bitter that it’s not you-“

“Gosh, you’re driving me insane,” he groans, throwing his head back in frustration. “I don’t feel that way-“

“Oh, you totally are,” you say, taking a few steps back and snickering. Gosh, this is fun to make fun of. “Drew Starkey’s jealous for the first time-“

Drew’s lips come in contact with yours, his tongue thrusting into yours urgently. 

Woah.

You didn’t even realize he had closed the gap again; his hands cupping your face to trap you into him. You hit his chest to push him away; but the longer his lips attach to yours, the softer your hits were. 

Alcohol. You taste that on his lips, pretty sure yours too. 

Yet, like a second nature, your body and brain reacts to Drew in a submissive way, kissing him back. You can’t help it; the warmth of his hands on either sides of your face, his soft lips…everything about him. Everything about him is endearing to you. 

In this moment, you realized you could never truly get over Drew. And quite frankly, you don’t want to. 

He pulls away, but his hands still remain on your face. “I’m not jealous,” he murmurs, his lidded-eyes gazing down at your lips then back your eyes. His chest under your touch rises and falls, the beat of his heart fast. 

The urge to fight or tease him disappears; you just want to be in his presence, in his touch, feeling the warmth of him. As if it could solve all your problems.  

“Shut up,” you breathe out, pulling him down by his tie and kissing him. 

Drew immediately kisses you back; never been more glad to be ordered to shut up. His hands move down your body, until they come in contact with the strings at the back of your corset. 

You feel him struggling with undoing it; probably distracted by your lips on his. 

Gosh, was it so hard to undo a couple of strings?

You force him onto the bed, and he immediately readjusts himself to a nice position. You quickly put your hands behind you and untie the strings, while Drew undos his own tie, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“Was that so hard?” You tease him, letting the corset fall off you. Drew’s mouth is slightly opened as his eyes drift lower down to your naked chest; his fixated gaze giving you a confidence boost.

“Mmhm,” he lazily replies; hands pull you into his lap by the waist. His lips attach them to yours again, and your hands work on unbuttoning his shirt. He kisses down your neck, laying love bites on it. 

“Shit…” you moan. Drew’s lips were skilled, and they knew where you liked it. 

His hands knead your breasts, just as you got his last button undone. Your hands roam around his chest, abs, then coming back up to run through his scalp. Huh. It’s gonna take some time to get used to no hair to tug on. 

His lips move down to your chest, and he starts to suck on your nipples. He fully makes out with them; his tongue sloppily tugging and devouring them in. It sends pleasure down to your core; and you start to rub against him, feeling the material of his pants harden. 

“Drew…” you voice out, hands feeling his scalp. It feels, weird and comfortable. 

He pulls away, his chest heavy as he looks up at you with hungry eyes. “Yeah?”

“Lay back,” you order, wiping the saliva that drips down the side of his lips. 

Drew gulps, before nodding. His hands remove themselves from you, hurriedly discards his shirt, and he scoots himself further down the bed. You get the clear look of his boner through his pants; damn. 

Your hands go to undo your duty belt; when they come in contact with metal chains. 

Huh? You look down and see, that it was the handcuffs you got for Judy Hopps’ character. 

The dirtiest idea pops up in your mind, and you look back up at Drew with a smile. His eyes are squinted at you, eyebrows furrowed. The two of you share a look; and then he shakes his head in disapproval. “No. I’m not getting handcuffed.”

This was never tried over the course of your relationship with him, and now that the opportunity presented itself, you had to try. You pout, taking the metal chains in your hands. You dip onto the bed, crawling between his spread legs. “Please, baby. It’ll be fun,” you flirtatiously say, your hand crawling up his thigh. “I’ll make it feel good.”

“You always make me feel good,” he murmurs, his arms tucked behind his head. 

“Pretty please then?” Your hand comes in contact with his boner, and you grip it through his pants. 

He moans under your touch, his mind fighting the battle to not be seduced by you. 

You knew how much Drew liked to touch you, always having his arm around you either lovingly and protectively. He took pride in being the person that gets to touch you whenever he wants and wherever. So of course, he wouldn’t be so happy to be handcuffed. 

You swing the handcuffs, giving him a soft smile. 

After a few seconds, he moans again, this time out of frustration, “fine. Do it.”

You smile ear-to-ear, happy that he agreed. You straddle his waist, as he offers his hands to you. You fasten one around his wrist, the material digging slightly into his skin. “Does it hurt?” You murmur, even though you were already moving onto his other hand. 

“I’m good,” he assures you, and when you glance down, you see that your breasts are directly in front of his face, a distraction provided. You shake your head, a soft smile on your lips as you bring both handcuffed wrists and hook it on the headboard. 

You ignore the kisses he trails on your chest; and tug on his hands to make sure it stays there. “Hey, stop it,” you warn him, before getting off. 

By instinct, he tugs his wrists wanting to keep you atop of him, but the handcuffs stop him. “Ride me, c’mon,” he whines, getting impatient with the restraints of his hands. Look, you haven’t even started and he’s already whining. 

Drew looks very hot in this angle; usually in charge, to be in a position where he physically couldn’t do anything. 

You giggle, undoing the duty belt and shimmying your skirt off. You lean forward between his legs, looking up at him with intrigued eyes. “Have some patience, baby,” the nickname drives him crazy, throwing his head back in frustration. 

His reaction makes you grin. You can see the struggle on his face—wanting to be annoyed but unable to resist the pull of your playful teasing. It’s the kind of tension that makes your heart race, as your hands go and undo his belt. 

The belt comes off, next was the zipper, then his pants. You tug it down to his knees, his dick piercing through his boxers. It’s begging to be sucked by you. 

You pull it down, his dick practically springing out. “Fuck,” you moan, leaning down close to it. 

Drew thrusts his hips, making the tip hit your nose. You look up at him, furrowing your eyebrows. You didn’t like how impatient he is right now, “stay still.”

“Sorry,” he murmurs, biting down on his bottom lip. “You look pretty from this angle, though.”

You give him a smug smile, before opening your mouth and taking his tip in. He immediately groans at that, as your mouth moves lower. 

The tug of the handcuffs is heard, as well as Drew saying, “wanna touch you.”

You smirk against his dick, one hand gripping on his thigh, another one going up to his balls. You massage one side; while your mouth skillfully takes Drew in. 

But Drew decides to take a step further, and thrusts his hip upward. That makes you gag; his tip hitting almost the back of your mouth. You immediately pull your mouth out, “stay still,” you say, more firmly this time. “Or I’ll leave, and you’ll stay here handcuffed.”

Another tug of his handcuffs, “didn’t mean to.”

“Be a good boy and stay still, okay?” The lust, tipsiness, combined with Drew’s vulnerable situation serves as a huge boost to your confidence. 

“Yes ma’am,” he murmurs, relaxing his entire body now. You’re in charge now; the handcuffs remind him of that. 

You give him a glare as a warning; you don’t miss the small curl at the corner of his lips. You take him in again, your hand squeezing his balls gently. You start to bop your head up and down, tongue wrapping and sucking his dick. 

“Shit,” you hear him groan, “just like that, babe.”

His soft moans ensure you that you’re doing a great job, as well as the occasional tugs of the handcuffs, his hands dying to touch you. Your head bops faster with each passing second, the pleasure of sucking his cock pooling in your undies too. 

It’s when you feel his cock twitch inside your mouth, you pull away. 

“Babe, what?” He manages to breathe out, he couldn’t believe that you just denied him of an orgasm. 

That nickname sends a bigger impact to your core than it should’ve. You sit up and lean forward, planting a sloppy kiss against his lips. He kisses back immediately, eager and needy. You pull away, “didn’t know you were this whiny.”

He forms a small frown, which makes you giggle, “I’ll let you cum, stop whining,” you kiss along his neck, down his chest, abs, and stopping right before his dick. “You got a condom?”

“You think I planned this?’ He tugs on his handcuffs. Right. He definitely wasn’t planning on fucking his ex-girlfriend. 

You get off the bed, rummaging the nightstands, hoping for condoms to be here. Nope. “Fuck,” you frustratedly groan, pushing your hair to one side. “Now what?” 

That question lingers in the air, the two of you staring at each other. No condom, and two horny adults. There was only one solution. No, two solutions. But who in their right mind would suggest that one-

“Raw,” Drew speaks up. 

“Raw?” You’ve never gone raw before; the risks of it overpowering the pleasure of it. You glance that Drew, seeing how calm he was to suggest that. Then at his dick, which was still erected. 

“Unless you want to go back downstairs.”

Oh god. You didn’t want to; you wanted to have sex with Drew. But you had to be honest; the idea of raw sex was terrifying. 

“Y/n?” His blue eyes meet yours, “sit down first.”

You sit back down beside him, placing your hand on his lower stomach. “Raw?” You’re more asking yourself, yet you look at Drew’s face. 

Drew. Going raw with Drew. Drew. Not some random guy. The Drew that you’ve found yourself get really into. Okay. Maybe if you two didn’t break up a month ago, you would’ve gotten to that point with him anyways, right? 

“You okay?” He asks gently. 

You give him a soft smile, getting yourself between his legs yet again. “Can’t be any different than a condom, right?”

He smirks at your agreement of this, “hope so.”

You lean forward and give him a quick peck on the lips. “Stretch yourself out first,” he reminds, looking down towards your core. You take your underwear off, sitting back and spreading your legs. It gives Drew the clear view of your pussy; and he groans at that. “Need help?”

He tugs on his handcuffs. Pretty sure it’ll bruise his wrists if he continues to move against them. The sly smile on his lips tell you everything; “I got it,” you assure him. 

You line two fingers against yourself; and then put it in. “Shit,” you groan at how wet you are already; thrusting your fingers in slowly.

You can’t help but compare your own fingering to Drew’s; finding his more satisfying to your core. Nevertheless, you stretch yourself out just like Drew says, picking the pace after a few seconds. “Fuck,” you hear him groan; and after a couple of sloppy thrusts, you pull out, finding yourself stretched. 

“Good?” He asks, watching as you straddle yourself on his waist again. 

“Perfect,” you practically purr, leaning forward and kissing him. You feel his smile against your lips; him kissing you back tenderly. 

You pull away and look down; aligning yourself with his dick. Shit. 

You sink down, feeling his cock enter you slowly. You moan loudly at the feeling; no barriers between the two anymore. When you sit down fully, you’re sure his tip hits the back of your core. 

Drew throws his head back in pleasure, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Feels real good,” he murmurs, his eyes fluttering to stay open. 

You giggle gently at his reaction; and you raise your hips, ready to start moving. You move up, then slide back down on him. “Shit,” you curse, the sensation unreal. 

Raising your hips again, you start riding him, at an unusual slow pace. Your nails dig into his shoulders, transferring the pain there. “Wanna touch you,” he voices out, tugging on the handcuffs. 

“You touch me all the time,” you hum, continuing to slam yourself up and down him. He groans at that, a knowing smile on his lips. 

“Touch yourself for me, then,” he thrusts his hip upwards, causing you to moan at the friction. 

You do as told; bringing your hands up to your breasts and squeezing them while bouncing. You’ve never felt this much pleasure; the feeling of Drew watching you while you ride him, your hands all over while you imagine it being him. 

The sound of skin slapping, heavy moans, and the tugs of Drew’s cuffs fill the room, as well as the rising temperature in here. This sex experience reminds you just how much you and Drew are compatible for each other; easily kinky and fond together. 

You feel the familiar hotness fill up your core, your movements getting more sloppy. “Close?” He asks, sounding breathless. 

“Yes,” you moan, your hands back around his shoulders. 

Drew leans himself upwards with his upper body, and he gives you a messy kiss. His kiss sends you over the ledge; and you feel the knot coming undone. He pulls away with a smug smile, “came all over my cock.”

“Shut up,” you smile, pulling him back and kissing him again. You liked kissing him more than you should. 

“Hey, can you undo these for me?” He tugs on the handcuffs for the nth time tonight. 

“Should I?” You cock your head playfully to the side. He playfully thrusts upwards towards your core, and you groan at that. “Fuck, Drew.”

“C’mon, undo me,” he begs, his blue eyes staring teasingly into yours. 

Gosh, this man. It’s unfair how attractive he is, from his looks to his actions. Everything, just touches your heart. You pull out of him, the stickiness around your legs don’t feel as gross as they should. But you do miss the warmth of him, feeling bit empty. 

You search around for your duty belt; grabbing it off the floor. It had three little compartments around it, and you rummage around each one. The cheap material makes it hard to open each. 

“Babe, you’re taking forever,” you hear him behind you. 

You ignore his comment; working your way to the last one. Surely the key had to be in the last one, right?

Is it; and you throw the belt back down, turning back to him. “Were you always this impatient?” You ask, unlocking both of his wrists. 

The handcuffs shoot down as soon as you’re done; and he flips you under him in one fast motion. You let out a shriek, not expecting to be pinned in mere seconds. He looks down at you with a small smirk, “my turn.”

“What?” You let out a nervous giggle, his hold on your wrists tightening. 

You let out a loud gasp when he shrinks his length down into your core; pushing it fully in at once. Shit, shit, shit. His lips attach themselves to your neck, leaving love bites, eventually moving down lower. “Drew,” you manage to breathe out despite feeling the weight of him down on you. 

“Yeah?” He mumbles against your skin, one hand intertwining with yours. 

“…feels good,” you admit, even though it was unexpected to be pinned down. Having his cock fully in you; felt like heaven. Now, he’s gonna give you your second orgasm of the night; halloween? Must be Christmas. 

“I’know,” he kisses your jaw, his other hand now kneading your breasts. “Besides, haven’t cummed yet.”

Oh. You were consumed with chasing your own orgasm, you didn’t realize that Drew hasn’t had his yet. 

Drew starts to push his body into yours, picking up the pace after each thrust. He hits your exact g-spots, knowing your body all too well. You moan loudly in his ear, mixed in with his. Just like that, your second orgasm slowly forms.

“Shit,” he curses, his hands locking tightly with yours. 

Okay, raw sex definitely felt better than condom ones. Or was it because it’s Drew? Either way, you want to do this more, honestly. Maybe the handcuffs too. 

“Close, Drew,” you breathe out between thrusts. 

“Same, babe,” he kisses your cheek.

The knot comes undone for the second time tonight, and you cum over his dick. At the same time, you feel it twitch inside you; his turn. 

Drew gets ready to pull out, but you hurriedly wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Cum inside me,” you urge him, wanting to feel yourself filled with his orgasm. 

Drew gives you a lazy smile, lips leaning towards yours. And this kiss, was more endearing, his tongue moving in a soft tempo. He cums, and you feel the warmth of him mixing with yours. 

You smile back against his lips; you’ve never had such mind-blowing sex. 

He eventually pulls out of you, reaching for the tissues on the nightstand. You let him clean you up, leaning against the headboard; the two of you staying silent to recover from what just happened. 

And slowly, the realization of what happened, fogs up the both of your minds. Lust is gone, now only left with clarification. Clarification of what’ll be next, between the two of you.

“Drew?” You speak up, as he finishes and cleans himself up quickly, throwing it in the trash after. 

He sits by your legs, his blue eyes looking up and meeting yours. “I miss you.” That confession catches you off guard. You gulp, looking down at your lap. “I’m sorry,” he adds, voice cracking. 

Your heart aches at that; and you feel him move to the spot besides you. He pulls the covers up, covering the both of you. “I’m sorry,” he repeats once again, “I’m, I’m a stupid fuck.”

“You are,” you agree, still looking down and playing with your fingers. 

“I just…we dated for a year. And, I just got scared?” The last part was almost as if he also didn’t believe himself for feeling that way. 

“Why?”

“I don’t know, just…something I feel. But I realized, not being with you was worse,” his hands wrap around yours, and you look up at him. His blue eyes are mixed with regret, sincerity, and…love. Well, at least you interpret it that way. 

“Took a month away from me to realize that?”

“Yes. I think that just shows how idiotic I am. Trust me, the past month was horrible.”

You giggle, “you can’t just dump me whenever you feel like it.”

“First and last time,” he promises.

“What?” You look at him questionably. 

“If you’ll take me back.”

Do you want to take Drew back? Your mind was screaming no, but your heart was telling you to spend forever with him. He really hurt you, and he really is an idiot. But he’s your idiot. And one year of dating has told you that he does make stupid decisions, coming to regret them later. 

Fuck it. You always listened to your heart anyways. “Fine, if you insist,” you playfully say, your hands intertwining with his again. You missed holding onto these hands. Then, your eyes drop to his wrists, seeing the red spots around them. “Drew, those handcuffs-“

Drew’s other hand cups your face, and he sends an attack of his kisses to your cheek. You laugh loudly at that, which just drives him to give you more. “Hey-“ he kisses your lips, the two of you leaning down until your backs hit the mattress. 

“I…”

“Hmm?” You stare into his eyes. He stares at you all smitten, his lips slightly open in awe. 

“I…love you,” he confesses. 

Oh. Oh. The butterflies in your stomach fight to get out, and you let them. You love Drew. Yeah, you love Drew. After everything you’ve been through with him, you deserved to be loved, to be loved by him.  “I love you more,” you emphasize on the last word. 

“Fuck,” he kisses you, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer into his arms. “Driving me insane. Insane, y’know that?”

“I’know,” you giggle, the two of you staring lovingly into each other’s eyes. You’ve never felt happier. And when your hands run through his scalp; you’re reminded of his buzzcut. “Hey, why did you shave your hair?”

“It got annoying,” he rubs circles around your waist, “and, well, I missed you.”

“so you shaved your hair?” 

“…yeah,” suddenly he gets shy, burying his face into your neck. You smile at that, feeling like he’s a little baby. 

After a few seconds, he murmurs against your neck. “Hey, y’know what you should dress up as next year?”

“Next year already?” You look down at him, him looking back up at you. 

“Yeah,” he pulls away, “Lola bunny.”

Lola bunny? Wasn’t that the cartoon character? From Loony tunes? You furrow your eyebrows at Drew, “why?”

He gives you a grin, “kinda…my childhood crush.”

“Really?” This is the first time he’s telling you this; and you can’t help but grow amused at that. Lola bunny? Maybe that can explain why he’s so weird sometimes. Cute weird. “Will you be my Bugs then?”

“Of course,” he immediately says, “not Paul, that’s for sure.”

Paul. You’re suddenly reminded of that gross man you asked to come with you; and also of Drew’s jealously. Hey, he’s jealous! That thought is bought up in your mind once again, thanks to Drew himself. What girlfriend would you be if you didn’t tease him about it? “Oh, you were so jealous.”

“Jealous? No,” he denies, even with the small smirk on his lips. 

“So it’s okay if I see Paul-“

“We’re together, now. Like, literally a few seconds ago,” he cuts you off. “Screw Paul. Or any other guy.”

“That’s jealousy,” you smile, pointing at his face. 

He bites on your finger, causing you to shriek and put your finger down. “Just love you a lot.” 

Your heart warms at that; but it doesn’t change your mind about how jealous he was. “Drew, you don’t need to be jealous. I’m yours.”

He chuckles, “I’m not jealous!”

Okay. He might never admit it. His pride, and his overall aura, jealousy just won’t be something he wants to bow down to. 

“Of course,” you rest your chin on his forehead. “Of course.”

“I wasn’t jealous!” He continues to hum. 

“Shhh,” you coo at him, rubbing the skin around his shoulders, which feel firm yet soft. Your eyes are falling heavy, and in Drew’s arms, you knew you could get some comfortable sleep. The first time; for the past month. 

You close your eyes, ready to drift to sleep, when Drew says, “I think we went over 7 minutes.”

“Huh?” You lazily reply, your brain ready to turn off. 

“Nothing.”

That was the end of the conversation; and you drifted off to sleep, knowing that Drew was beside you. The familiar scent of him dozes you off, and you feel safe knowing he’s going to be taking care of you. 

Lola bunny. Maybe you should dress up like her next year, fulfill Drew’s nasty fantasies. Huh. Maybe. 

-------------------------------

word count: 6.6k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: petition for drew to be patrick bateman 🙋‍♀️

happy halloween! what are you dressing up as??? hope you enjoyed this oneshot, kinky and got really sweet in the end. pls ignore any mistakes; i hate proofreading. anyways, happy halloween! ik im already looking forward to christmas ;)

[henry7931]

Halloween Tales: Pumkle!

Caleb:

Okay I realize it’s not the best looking pumpkin but I tried my best! And I really wanted to do something fun for the season so… I guess I started with carving a pumpkin? I even named him Albert lol.

I’m 21, single, gay, and kinda lonely all around. I’ve really tried making attempts at making friends in my new college town but I guess I’m just weird. Plus, it doesn’t help that my parents got me a townhome to myself.

I started to head inside when I heard the sound of a car pulling in. I look up and knew instantly by the 2009 mustang that it was in fact my uncle Dennis.

“Oh great!”

Dennis climbs out and immediately starts talking.

“Sup Bud!”

“Hi Uncle Dennis. What are you doing here?”

“Well I talk to my brother and I’m out of a job right now. And he said I can come live with you for a bit. So looks like we’re roommates!”

“Fuck…” I say under my breath.

I thought for a moment he heard me but he just kept talking… which eventually turned into a ramble.

“So yeah, like I was saying you’re going to have to be cool with what I want around here. Starting with getting rid of this stupid pumpkin.”

“Oh come on Dennis! I just got done with carving it! His name’s Albert.”

“Ha! You named him? How fucking silly! We’ll say goodbye to Andy.”

“Albert.”

Dennis carries my pumpkin to our dumpster and tosses it in.

I walk back into my house pissed off. I couldn’t believe he just did that!

I stayed in my room for hours trying my best to avoid him. But eventually I have to leave my room.

It’s 8 o’clock now and I walk out of my room. I look around and Dennis had literally turned my place into his own person man cave.

I walk outside to find sitting on my front porch.

“You’re awake! I was wonderin when you’re gonna start cooking dinner because I’m starving!”

“Bro you can’t cook?”

“Hell no! But you can,” he says lighting a cigarette.

“Why would I do that,” I say crossing my arms.

“Well you can cook for me or I can tell your parents all the bad things you’ve been doing here.”

I roll my eyes and stormed into the kitchen. I cook for him and he even complained about the food!

After that, I uncle Dennis pulled off his clothes down to his boxers and flung his body on the couch. I couldn’t believe his lack of decency. But I also felt something strange deep inside of me. A weird attraction to his fit body.

I realize my uncle is a good looking man but his personality sucks! And I feel so grossed out by even finding myself being so turned on…

But his big smelly feet… his pits… his chest… his bulge… god it’s been a minute since I’ve seen a handsome my body that wasn’t on the internet.

I run off to bed and lay down. I realize that I have a raging boner. So I angrily started jerking off trying not to think about Dennis.

But alas… his body is all I have on my mind.

I think about how he’s such a dick that I literally blurt out, “I wish that I could change Dennis! That someone or something would just takeover him and let me do whatever I want with his body! I want to smell his feet so bad! I want to feel his cock… his balls! Have his strong hands rub all over me!!! Ohhhh fucccccc…”

I came at the thought and soon fell asleep.

The Next Morning…

I wake up and get out of bed. I head to the bathroom and here Dennis is inside.

“Hey Dennis can you hurry up! I have to pee!”

Dennis swings open the door and he’s standing in his briefs last night and he’s WEARING MY PUMPKIN ALBERT OVER HIS HEAD!

“Really funny Dennis! Now take it off.”

Dennis shrugs at me and then I notice something… the pumpkin is hallow…

I begin to scream and run… the pumpkinhead wearing uncles body follows me until I’m in a corner.

“What are you going to do to me?!?,” I say to it as it fully approaches.

He reaches out and grabs my hand. He moves my hand to Dennis’s crotch. He return reaches into my pajama pants and starts fondling my dick…

“Holy crap…”

I lose train of thought for second because it feels so good.

“ Hold on a sec, how and why are you controlling Dennis’s body?”

He turns and looks around the room trying to search for something. And then gestures like he wants to write something.

I find him a pin and paper. I give it to him and he starts to write.

“Hi Caleb, it’s me Albert! I heard your wish last night and decided to take over Dennis. Thank you for granting me his body, I’m so happy to have it. Now I can’t wait to serve you. This body is now just as much as yours as it is mine. Oh and one more thing! Sorry I look scary right now butI’ll look normal soon I promise!”

“My wish… that’s right! Wait… What about Dennis’s uhhh head.”

Albert grabs my hand and leads me to the front porch. I see a new pumpkin sitting with what looks to be a very angry face.

“That’s Dennis?”

He gives me a thumbs up.

“So what now?”

He takes my hand and leads me back to the bedroom.

Albert lays down on my bed and pulls off his new bodies briefs.

The beautiful body that once belonged to my Uncle Dennis is now completely naked in front of me.

I thought for a moment that maybe I should stop but what’s the point? I can’t undo anything now.

I get into bed with him and immediately press my face into his crotch. He has this mush to him that so hot to me and I just know it’s been a minute since his body has had a proper shower.

I kiss down his thighs and look down at his big sexy feet.

I look up at Albert and say, “feel free to play with your new dick for a few. I’m going to be down here,” I say directing to his feet.

I run my tongue up and down his soles while watching Albert gently fondle his new dick. He twists his nipples which causes his dick to leak a bit.

I stand up and pull off everything that I’m wearing.

I put his big feet together and start rubbing my boner in between his soles. Albert catches on and starts giving me a foot job.

He works his toes so well… it’s impressive especially since last night he didn’t have any.

I moaning loudly and Albert pace’s faster on both of our cocks. Im watching his big hairy balls move up and down… his tight grip on his cock…

I can’t take much more…

We both explode at the same time. His feet and his chest is covered in cum.

I lick his toes clean and work my way up to his chest.

I lick his cum off of him and I notice something. His cum has a pumpkin flavor to it.

I bust out laughing and crawl up to his chest. He pulls me in and we’re both lying naked cuddled up together.

A few hours later, we wake up from a nap and we’re both hard again. This time Albert takes control and works my cock for me.

I cum again and crawl down to his dick. I give his throbbing head a kiss before sucking him off.

Albert seems to love it from how squirmy it made his body. He must have known he was close because he literally pushes my head in and cums down my throat.

We eventually get up and I take us to the bathroom.

I turn on the shower and we both get in. Our bodies are rubbing soap all on each other and I keep kissing him. Albert seems to be fascinated by my cock because he can’t stop touching it.

I feel his cute hairy butt and got an idea. I gingerly inserted a finger into his hole.

“Is that okay?” I ask him.

That’s when he makes almost a grunting noise.

“Oh my god Albert! Are you about to speak?”

“Mmmmhuuuu-yuuu-sss.”

“Wow! Thats awesome!”

After our shower I dry us off and I head to the suitcase Derek brought. I dig through his clothes and found an outfit for Albert that I thought would look sexy on him.

I get him dressed and he sits on the couch. I pull my phone out to take a picture.

“Okay! Flex for me sexy!”

He taps at the couch to come sit with him but I tug off his boots and pull off his socks.

“Sorry I like seeing them.”

He wraps his arm around me and we watch a Halloween horror special together.

Soon it’s night time and I offer to cook for Albert but instead he gets up. He heads to the kitchen and starts cooking for me.

“You’re so sweet!”

As he brings out a plate, he starts to make a muffling noise.

“Uuuu— rr— muh-muh love.”

“Aww thank you. You’re my love too.”

After dinner, we both strip out of our clothes and full around for the third time.

This time Albert lets me insert a couple of fingers into his hole. I work it for a bit trying to be soft since he’s so tight.

I pull out and carefully insert my dick into him. His body quivers, I move back and forth inside of him.

He runs his hands all over me. He starts to moan…it’s a deep moan that sounds almost like Dennis’s voice.

“Harder Caleb! It feels soooo good,” he says clear as day.

I go faster and faster….

We’re both moaning so loud!

I feel myself about to cum inside of him and his dick explodes.

I lick his chest clean and we both fell asleep.

The next morning I wake up and almost thought yesterday was a dream.

I look over and Albert’s not in bed with me. But I notice a bunch of pieces of pumpkin are laying in the bed.

“Oh my god Albert!”

I rush out of my bedroom and run to the living room.

But I’m caught off guard when I hear a familiar voice say, “Good morning Caleb.”

I turn and see him… he has a human head! An exact match of Dennis…

“Hi…,” I say taking precaution just in case last night was a dream.

“Sorry, I wanted to surprise you. Do you like the new head?”

“Albert?”

“It’s me my love!”

I rush over to him and touch his face.

“God, this is… wow this is amazing!”

I kiss his lips and we keep kissing over and over again.

“So can I do that thing with my new mouth on your cock now?”

“Oh god yes!”

A Month Later…

“So you ready to meet our family?”

“Yeah but do I have to pretend I’m Dennis?”

“Yeah babe and you can’t be flirty with my parents around. It’s taboo.”

“Fine! But can we at least share a bed?”

“Well I guess I’m sure that would be fine since they only have my old bed.”

“Great! Now come give your uncle Dennis a kiss before we have to go!”

I roll my eyes and pulled Albert in for a long kiss.

“Oh don’t forget the pumpkin pie! I made it from scratch.” 😉

[mrkis]

— [02:33]

A.N| my health is still low but i miss writing for my man. gotta remind you who the main is🥴☝🏼 originally this was written for someone else, but the more i read over it, the more i pictured mark and my pussy started yodelling.

"that's it, good girl," mark hisses through his teeth, his fingers twisting in your hair to yank at the roots, the burn on your scalp making you let out a satisfying moan. "look so fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth. taking it so well."

your chest blossoms with warmth at the compliment even though it's clear you're struggling to take him, lips stretched around his cock, cheeks hallowed as you suck, your cunt clenching around nothing as you watch him throw his head back with a grunt.

you pull off to swirl your tongue around his tip and his grip tightens in your hair, pulling you away from his cock to arch your head back and you moan, the strain sending a thrill to your pussy.

“open,” mark orders as his free hand grips your cheeks and you immediately obey, opening your mouth and staring up at mark with glistening eyes that widen when he leans over you, puckering his lips to spit inside your mouth.

the act is dirty but you can’t help but whine, that feeling in the pit of your stomach getting stronger and the need for him to fuck you pussy full grows.

his hand drops from your cheek to massage against you throat, “swallow, baby.”

you do as you’re told like the good girl you are, swallowing happily with a smile that makes mark’s heart flutter, cooing as he caresses your face and leans down to press a loving kiss to your forehead before his grip in your hair resumes, bringing you back to his cock that demands your attention.

“go ahead,” mark hums, staring down at your with darkened eyes be a smirk. “show me how badly you want my cum next.”

©𝗠𝗥𝗞𝗜𝗦

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

TKATB: More theories! Yay!

This most certainly will contain spoilers for Days 1 and 2 of @fantasia-kitt 's 'The Kid At The Back', along with containing mentions of material found on her Twitter (https://twitter.com/fantasia_kitt).

WILL HAVE SPOILERS! IF YOU HAVEN'T PLAYED THROUGH DAYS 1 AND 2, I RECOMMEND FINISHING THEM FIRST.

Quite a lot of these may allude to the ones I posted a week(?) ago, but my brain has brained REALLY HARD (almost as hard as when I get when I see Geo) and I think I have more ideas/more specified ideas of what could happen.

- So, I am correct in assuming the fact that the Hallow's Ball is on Day 5 (because Day 1 is in fact Monday); now this might be a stretch, in fact, it probably is, but due to the fact the Higher Class paid a visit to the school, maybe some of them might show up? Or maybe the people who bullied Brittney (think the food fight route) try to publically humiliate her or something, because something tells me she's got a lot of enemies, and something pretty bad is gonna happen to her.

- Geo is mentioned to have been disqualified due to 'accidentally' shooting an arrow at another person and it cutting their hair. Jess mentions we'd have to go 'next year' to see him partake again, so I'm gonna guess this competition is an annual thing. Maybe (and I'm assuming this as well) Geo and Hyugo were part of the Higher Class (because their dad works with the city's Founder, so that's gotta be High Class if I've ever heard it), but they were moved down. Geo is seemingly using archery to try and get selected to return back to the Higher Class, but if so, why get purposefully disqualified over almost potentially killing someone? Maybe, someone *really* pissed him off, or maybe got him sent down for whatever reason (we know Geo has daddy issues so maybe his father treats him like shit because of it) and he's subtly trying to threaten them?

- Along with that, MC wonders why he didn't get arrested. Think about it, he's got money, a lot of it. Hyugo says how corrupt this city is, their father (I believe Geo is an illegitimate child, due to the mother cheating or smth idk) probably paid the cops to not give a shit.

- Hyugo also has a LOT of connections, is often MIA, and is in the student council, so he's got influence. (Maybe adding salt to Geo's wounds indirectly?) I have a feeling he goes MIA for his syndicate activities (he has access to sleeping pills); and maybe because he's part of the council and gets stupidly high ass grades, nobody questions it. Besides, he's probably got some sketchy operations going on to maintain it all.

- With Crowe asking about Marie Antoinette, I now feel that our 'responses' to whether she was a good or horrible person are things HE did. "She was ignorant, she raved while people were starving..." - MC to Crowe when choosing the 'She was a horrible person' choice. I'll ignore the latter part for now, because that was a normal thing for rich people to do at the time. But the ignorant part is interesting. Maybe the reason Crowe is so nice (and it's not a facade, according to Fantasia herself) is because he's trying to redeem himself? Sol, if you don't skip class and let him escort you, states: "Ichabod (Crowe's surname) it's always been you. I should have dealt with him years ago..." So, maybe, at some point, Crowe had a pristine relationship with his family, mother specifically, (he doesn't anymore) and the reasoning behind this is due to the fact he believed he was superior? Maybe he was even a bully at some point? Hell, maybe he even made fun of Sol, and Sol wants to obliterate him for it. He (Crowe) was making him (Sol), and now he is trying to steal his so(u)lmate?! How fucking dare he?!

- Brittney also states that she's astonished about how Deryl has almost no friends, so I think that's incredibly fascinating, because it's true. How does a bubbly, happy jock like him get ignored by so many? Maybe because he helped Brittney (along with Jess) when she was low?

- Again, about Brittney, I feel that that frat party 2 years ago shattered her reputation, her image, everything. I bet some damaging info got spread about her and it led to her 'mysteriously' leaving the cheerleading squad, becoming more isolated and essentially (I'm assuming this) getting moved down with Jess. (Check previous one for why I think Jess got moved down as well, but tldr is she lost her shit, maybe got physical and it got her and Brittney sent to the worse school together). - On Fantasia's twitter, there's a Day 3 nsfw image of Sol essentially standing in front of a mirror with blood everywhere (ill link the slideshow that i have of every image i found/liked), anyway it's the right one on slide 9; with the caption "All I see are flaws"....so maybe if you ignore him on Day 3 and hang out with Crowe, he'll start losing his shit? Maybe thinking he isn't good enough? - Also, in the Day 2 NSFW scene, there are some prominent burn marks on Sol's back...does he get abused to this day? Does he live alone and they're scars?????? Maybe that's what he meant when he says "I've been dealt worse" in relation to the bullying? He does have history with them after all.

So. That's basically it, brain will continue to brain. Until then, ciao. (and yes the Geo fanfic is coming dw) Slides: https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1Wb_biHRk6g1gKj0WZ5XVwEtKGjFRTapDYerlEyhYPGE/edit#slide=id.g2cffd4cd112_0_34

[teddypickerry]

A teen!dad jess. He has a best friend from New York (she can have a name or it can be Y/N, you can choose) (they are endgame, jess never had feelings for Rory but she has feelings for Jess, it won't go anywhere) Jess and his best friend have a kid, they co-parent (whether they are dating already or in the future is up to you) Jess gets sent to Stars Hallow, she ends up moving to stars Hallow to, to be close to Jess and so their kid can be with him too (she is emancipated, plus Jess knows she's coming because they keep in contact) if anyone reading this would like to turn this into an actual story, I'm totally down for reading it :) if you choose this request, I look forward to reading it. Thank you!!

↯ 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐈 𝐆𝐎 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎?

pairings — teen dad! jess mariano x y/n

warnings — none!! (unedited tho so…)

word count — 2.9k

a/n — i’m not the biggest fan of how this turned out (feels lowk out of character even tho i typically write jess best bc i am him), but i LOVEDDDD this plot. i plan on making a part two if that’s something you guys would want!! also dad! jess is my fav (as you guys know) so to have him be bowie’s dad??? FUCKING LOVEEE.

BEING SENT TO STARS HOLLOW was worse than one would imagine. especially for jess mariano, a kid who'd been taken from his hometown and placed in a small apartment above a diner with an uncle he hardly knows. this would be enough to drive one mad, one could presume. but to make matters worse, he was leaving behind his son.

the moment liz danes found out her sixteen year old son had gotten a girl pregnant, she freaked out. as any mother would do. but liz wasn't just any mother, she was (to put it lightly) a whack-job. so she spiraled when she figured this one out. what happened when liz danes spiraled you may ask? who was there for her? her sane big brother, luke.

the practical idea seemed to be sending jess to the quaint down of stars hollow. a place where liz grew up, where she knew luke would keep an eye on him. where she also knew he couldn't cause any havoc. and his world wouldn't become corrupt like hers, being a teen parent.

the months of the pregnancy was difficult to be away. y/n was just a girl he'd met at a party, he was sick and tired of his mother's new boyfriend's hurtful words. y/n was going through something similar and they decided they'd lean on one another one night. until three weeks later when she called jess asking him to coffee, and surprising him with something much more. y/n was scared, as any pregnant sixteen year old would be. being without jess didn't help her case.

the teenage boy didn't let the separation get to them however. his nights sneaking out were spent at a phone booth in the middle of town, talking to y/n about everything and anything. his breaks at the diner were calling to ask about doctors appointments. sure, she had just been a girl he'd met at a party. but the emotional bond of a baby knitted the two together. they were scared kids, they had no one but one another. so they became much more than kids who once went to a party. they were friends.

when y/n went into labor, jess ran out of school like his life depended on it. hoping into his car and speeding back to new york. luckily making it so he could see his son born just in time. his first time meeting his son was only his fourth time seeing y/n. the fourth of many, many visits. stars hollow became less and less entertaining to him as time went on. especially after coming back almost two weeks after his son was born. the pranks, the stealing, the teasing around with this girl rory... it wasn't anything to him. he missed his son, he missed the woman who had his son. jess mariano wanted to be with his family. because for the first time in his life, he had a family. someone loved him, and he loved someone.

"1984 is the most overrated 'classic' book i've ever read," rory gilmore smiled at jess with a teasing look. now, almost a year after his son's birth, jess mariano was nearing eighteen. his adolescence was coming to an end (although it did when the stick turned pink). the toying around was still very much in his nature. hence the conversation with the good girl in a pink sweater.

"nu uh, it's a classic. you can't just hate on 1984," jess counters while standing behind the diner's countertop. the diner was slow, despite it being around the early afternoon and a sunday. which is why two teenagers were sharing false opinions like it was bible. he didn't like her — he was sure of that. ever since bowie mariano was born (guess who named him), jess's feelings had become aware. the love he felt for his son was prominent in his everyday life. unlike anything he'd ever felt before. it was hard for him to even imagine ever having feelings for someone. not when being a dad was his number one priority.

"you're just saying that," rory laughed at his words once more. her late night talks with her mother about jess seeming to not be recalled. the ones where lorelai stressed to rory what jess was going through as a teen parent, something she knew all too well. especially being away from his kid. in her eyes, he was a christopher who'd left his rory. lorelai didn't exactly want her daughter involved with that. but it was hard to resist when he kept giving rory that james dean look. matched with the leather jacket and the book references.

"when are you going to see bowie?" lorelai asked the teenage boy, attempting to remind her daughter of his priorities. jess didn't see this as a question with ulterior motives. he knew lorelai had a deep understanding of him, whether she'd like to admit it or not. "soon, hopefully."

"is y/n liking her new place?" luke questions genuinely from lorelai's side, being reminded of jess's child's mother who he'd grown fond of. "it's kinda hard to like a place where you're crashing on your friend's sofa bed." jess scoffs, being reminded of his friend's condition. when y/n had first gotten pregnant, jess was aware of the darkness in her home. especially when she freaked out to him one night. the first time they opened up to one another. she was too scared to tell her dad about the baby, knowing he'd hurt her.

less than two years later, y/n was emancipated. working a part-time job in the city. where her friends helped watch bowie when necessary. along with (hesitantly) liz, whenever jess made sure she was sober and had an okay boyfriend. it was a lonely life: just like jess's.

"that poor girl," lorelai commented with a sympathetic look making jess's stomach twist. he hated thinking about the living conditions of his family, he hated thinking of being apart from them. but when he did, he couldn't stop. which is why that night, when luke came upstairs to the apartment after closing, jess stopped him to have a serious conversation. "can i talk to you?"

luke searched his nephew's face for sincerity once he heard those words. curious if this was gonna be a 'steely dan sucks' conversation or an actual serious one. a rare option for the teenage boy. "yeah, what's up?"

there was a deep expression anguished on jess's face as he sat at the table. he was clearly unsure how to put his words, which was prominent in his eyes. "i... i can't be away from bowie anymore. i can't let y/n live in that shithole. they're my responsibility."

luke heard his nephew's words clearly. he agreed with every word, a sigh erupting when he processed the stress his teenage nephew was experiencing over this. "where are you going with this, jess?" the diner owner questioned with a calm tone. he still wanted the best for his nephew. he still wanted him to finish high school and start a worthy life. one he didn't want to be started by running off to new york and working to provide for his family. "i need to be with them one way or another. i can't be away from bowie, i can't do that to my kid. i can't be my dad."

"you're not, kid. you're nothing like jimmy, i'm telling you that right now. you would do anything to be with bowie and that proves you're better than him," luke explained before letting out a sigh and nodding his head. "you're a good guy, jess."

a conversation continued throughout the night until the two finally came to a conclusion. or at least luke did. taking matters into his own hands, he picked up the phone once his nephew hit the pillow. a hushed tone rushing into verses of explanations until it all made sense.

the next morning, jess mariano woke up like any other day. not too long after he woke up he went down to the diner to get started on work. his thanksgiving break had begun, so his monday would be spent annotating a new book for his son in between rush hours. it was when two familiar faces entered the diner that he hardly glanced up, noticing the gilmores immediately. "hey jess, how's it going?"

"well, i'm not bleeding or anything so..." jess shrugged towards the woman while he scribbled in a final note for an older bowie. rory kept her eyes on him while luke handed the two mugs of coffee. he had something in his head, especially when he kept glancing out the window every few seconds. "that's good," lorelai nodded before turning to luke.

"what are you reading now? more jane austen?" rory teased while eyeing the boy and taking a sip of her warm coffee. his eyes didn't dare look up from her while he shut the book, "uh huh." he nodded with a thin lipped smile. rory noticed the children's book in his hands and grinned, "didn't know you were that behind. that makes sense with your book taste though."

"this is bowie's, i'm just writing some stuff in the margins for him for when he learns to read," jess shrugged without noticing the sudden change in demeanor when he mentioned his son. the baby had never been to stars hollow. jess also rarely brought up his son to anyone, especially stars hollow-ers. miss patty and babette already whispered about the rebellion enough as it was. he didn't need to add to it by opening up to people who didn't care about him. "oh... that's sweet," rory forced a smile before sinking down into her seat. she felt shorter.

jess picked up the coffee to begin to refill a few cups throughout the diner. his stance was interrupted once the diner phone began to ring, luke noticed this quickly. it wasn't long before he grabbed the coffee from jess's hand and hardly offered to do refills for him instead. jess knew luke was up to something but hesitantly took the phone call, "luke's."

"nice greeting," a voice echoed on the other side making jess's infamous smirk spread across his face. y/n. "well, i thought i'd ask you to marry me. but i was worried our meat supplier was on the other line," jess teased into the phone while his hand went in his pocket. he subconsciously turned around so his back was to the rest of the diner. wanting to be alone with y/n, as if that was possible through this.

"thought so," y/n hummed with an obvious smile. "hey, bowie's missing his dad."

"is bowie's mom also missing bowie's dad?" jess asked with his typical teasing tone towards his friend. "bowie's mom may be. but she doesn't exactly want to give him the satisfaction of that. bowie's dad is very cocky," y/n says through the phone while luke spots something through the window and smiles.

the sound of the bell was a familiar one. reminding the people in the diner that someone had arrived. jess was so used to it now that he didn't bat an eye typically, but this time he glanced around his shoulder for a moment. his eyes glancing back at the figure stood infront of the door. jess's brown eyes locked on them for a second as he dropped the wired phone and bolted past the counter to them.

stood before his eyes was y/n and bowie. the eleven month old was in her arms with a pacifier between his lips. y/n wore a smile while she placed her phone in her pocket with a free hand. she was engulfed in jess's scent immediately as he threw the two into his arms. cigarettes, cheap cologne, and coffee erupting comfortably into her. "hey, watch out i have a baby."

jess ignored her words, but lightened his grip on her while taking bowie out of her arms to hold him. "bowie, hey..." his voice trailed off as he held onto his son. he was interrupted with emotion by being with his son once again. because as much as fatherhood was something he never wished upon himself, ever desired whatsoever, it had turned into the best thing that ever happened to him.

"hi kid," luke greeted the teenage girl while walking over to give her a side hug. he turned his attention towards jess who was hugging his baby with a grin he hadn't seen in awhile. "i thought about our talk last night, jess. you were right."

jess glanced over at his uncle before looking back at y/n with a smile. which shocked even him, because a smile was not something he'd done while being in stars hollow. "so..." luke's voice trailed off while he gave the floor to y/n. who took it and looked at jess, "i think bowie needs to be with his dad... and his mom."

the group shared a few looks, mixed with confusion and happiness. "i asked lorelai for a favor, y/n and bowie are gonna stay at the inn for a few weeks. until you guys can figure out a place." luke started with a nod. "you're gonna be eighteen in a few months, you're gonna graduate in a few months. i want you to do that, jess. so, i brought you some courage... as cheesy as that sounds."

jess looked between the two for a moment before sharing a nod with his uncle, as if a thank you in their own language.

"hey, i'm lorelai. it's nice to meet you i've heard so much about you. we seem to have a lot in common," lorelai interjected as she walked over and introduced herself to y/n. y/n knew her fair share of scoop of the town. her daily phone calls to jess were hardly just baby talk. she'd spent a lot of them telling him to go out with lorelai's daughter, who seemed good for him. but every-time... something was holding him back. "yeah you too, i'm y/n. thank you for everything, by the way. you really didn't have to let me."

"c'mon we're moms, we help eachother out. we can be like desperate housewives. but with no men," lorelai smiled while giving y/n's hand a squeeze. "oh! this is my bowie, rory."

"hey," y/n greeted with an awkward wave towards the other teenage girl who still seemed in shock by the situation. she forced a smile and waved, "hey."

the dispute was a lot more awkward than y/n could have hoped. but a sense of envy had taken over the both of them as they reflected on past or current relations with jess. an awkwardness that washed away quickly when y/n’s eyes locked back on jess and her son. a favorite sight of hers.

“c’mon,” jess nodded towards y/n while she took the baby out of his arms. he grabbed her bag and placed a free hand on her back, mumbling goodbyes before exiting the diner with his two. the three took the scenic tour towards the inn. bowie cracking a million smiles at the tons of birds in sight. the two teenagers reciprocating the action with shared giggles at the baby’s happiness.

the moment they entered the room, jess sat down with bowie to let y/n unpack a little bit. while the two caught up on unspoken things. “so… that was rory,” y/n says suggestively while unpacking her toiletries in the bathroom. jess was sprawled out on the bed with bowie in his arms, playing superman. he turned to her once she erupted from the bathroom and took a seat beside him. “that was rory.”

“she’s pretty,” y/n nodded with a small smile. in an attempt to be polite about jess’s possible love interest, yet he seemed hardly interested when bowie was around. “i guess,” jess shrugged before holding bowie back up in his arms. “have you asked her out yet?”

“i’m not too focused on that,” jess answered while clearly wanting the conversation to be done. y/n only smiled at the sight of the baby, gently rubbing his back. jess’s eyes locked onto her once more. watching her look at bowie with all the love made his eyes gleam. the way her smile spread with love, only made his heart beat faster happily. “thanks.”

y/n glanced over to him at his word, furrowing her eyebrows gently while she looked into his eyes. “for what?”

“for being here, i guess.” he mumbles while turning back to face bowie and bring him closer to him, the baby resting his head on jess’s chest. y/n smiled at the sight while leaning into the pillow, happily watching the two. “of course.”

so, the two laid back into the bed. smiling at the sight of their baby falling into a comforting sleep. followed by y/n minutes later, at a moment of peace. finally having someone she trusted with her baby so she could peacefully have a break. jess shut his eyes to the sound of the light breaths of both his favorite people. never having felt something so perfect once again in his life.

[secriden]

i've been thinking and thinking about the significance of the sunflowers parapai sends sky after their first face-to-face meeting post-one night stand and it suddenly hit me why it made such an impact on sky.

prior to this point, sky's attracted to prapai, no question about it. the physical attraction is there pretty much as soon as they lay eyes on each other. even at their one night stand, regardless of the reasons why (tbh my read was that sky wanted it in the moment to feel like he had a way to wrest control over (a) his own body and (b) the situation), sky at least physically seemed to enjoy himself. but its the lack of emotional connection, after the endorphin rush is over, that makes him feel like crap, makes him second-guess his worth and leave feeling used and hallow (and boy oh boy does peat manage to show that so well - he's so so good at wounded).

but then prapai comes back 3 months later, teasing and playful and flirty and still so attractive. sky recognises his own attraction (his self-talky bits are cute but they break my heart), but the one night stand was good enough physically for him to know he doesn't want just that. he doesn't just want to just feel physically good. and he's stuck in the thought that he can never have anything more.

when prapai tells him he's going to pursue him in sky's dorm lobby, he's startled but not shaken. he goes up to his room, essentially tells himself to get out of fantasy land, peeks out the window - but he still fundamentally doesn't engage with the idea that there could be anything real between them.

but the sunflowers and "remember that this wind's watching over the sky". it's protection; its safety.

sky's visibly shaken (peat, oh peat, the vulnerability you managed to convey) and i think this is probably the first time prapai actually manages to get a little bit past the wall sky's already put up between them. and prapai's such a flirty idiot i 100% think he didn't have a clue what he was saying, really. he just thought he was being clever with the unusual flower choice and playing with their names, but in a way that's what makes prapai so perfect for sky.

he's... well, guileless. he's almost accidentally exactly what sky needs to even consider falling in love after everything that happened to him. there's something very clumsy about the charm prapai has and i suspect it's because he's never really had to work to charm anyone before - his looks, money, and status do most of the heavy lifting for him. the fact that he isn't an absolute jerk is pretty much enough for most to be pulled into his orbit. but this works so well for sky because i think someone more suave and actually adapt at wordplay/flirting would have made him run for the hills, because it would have come across as manipulation given his trauma. but prapai is so bad at it (prapai: 'if you don't try it, how do you know?' sky: you absolute fucking idiot did you forget how we met?) that it actually sounds genuine. it makes it safe.

fuck, safety. i feel like it's something everyone wants on some level, but when you've gone through something like that... something where you're betrayed on such a fundamental level by someone you trust, safety becomes the core of what you need. i can deal with hunger, with pain, with loneliness, with being overworked, with being called names or scolded by others - as long as i can maintain that safety. and for sky, that safety always came when he was in his own hands. the only one he could trust with his safety was himself (even as a child, he had no one; alone in Bangkok with a mother who left and a father who cared but was too far away). its why sky isolates; why he'll help his classmates but never ask for help; why he takes the bullying som dishes out without a word.

then prapai comes in and takes care of him when he's sick. his safety is outside of his hands - terrifying. but... also such a relief. i cannot stress how much this was exactly what sky needed. if rain had taken care of him, he would've kicked rain out the second he became conscious. rain doesn't have the backbone/will/character to force the issue. but what prapai did was prioritise sky's safety (health) and for the first time in years, it didn't have to be in his own hands...

(prapai then goes on to makes a lot of other accidentally good choices - comes to Last Cheer and gives him medicine, a place to rest his head, and a quiet space so he can do what he wants (stay to the end, not worry his friends). care, offered at sky's terms. even the bits where prapai's a visibly horny idiot, nearly edging past sky's boundaries but not is counterintuitively perfect because sky sees that prapai's going against what he wants to make sure sky's expressed boundaries are honoured and sees how it costs him something - but, also, i think that speaks more to (a) prapai's growth as a character now that he has a focus that goes beyond the instant gratification of physical release and (b) mame knows her characters and prapai is built to be perfect for sky. honestly most of the skill in writing prapai was the change was gradual enough to be believable in the context of this world. but i digress.)

i just... really adore what prapai did for sky here. like, utter relief that comes from having someone take care of you when you've had to take care of yourself for so long. like a heavy burden suddenly rolling off. and the sunflowers are cheesy but they're the first real hint that this is what's going to make prapai succeed with sky. its not (just) that he's attractive and persistent - that wouldn't have been enough ultimately. (for eg. had phayu pursued sky, he would've also been attractive and persistent but boy would sky have run for the hills with that kind of pursuit. phayu's hot but the manipulation in how he got rain... sometimes i'm baffled by this fandom's take on phayu vs prapai because it's always prapai that everyone calls shady/problematic when he's actually very transparent and honest with his intensions with sky vs the mind games phayu played with rain. i don't have an issue with it because of how rain's character's written - he needed a phayu to get past his internal hang ups - but still, baffling.)

but its how he continually offered to take on the burden of care from sky. so sky could finally actually address the other things he needed. sky didn't have the (physical OR emotional) bandwidth to even consider a relationship until prapai because no one was taking those things off his plate (feeding him, making sure he rests, making sure he took care of himself. like - even when prapai just reminds sky to take care of himself, that's taking some of that mental load off sky having to remember for himself).

honestly this is why when in the scene when sky opens the door to prapai when he's half asleep and then lets prapai feed him, and lets him put him to bed, undress and dress him (all things that would have triggered sky to hell before) - I actually believe it. i believe that sky feels safe around prapai because he's done nothing but actively, persistently offer that to sky over and over again by this point.

anyway, yes, i just really love the sunflower scene for how it gives us that first real glimpse as to why prapai really was perfect for sky.

[poetryandfluffycats]

shu itsuki face fucking. FAM. FAAAMM?

shu fucking your throat so hard youre crying and sobbing around his cock then he plugs your nose when he cums so u cant breathe...with a fem reader pls...🙏🏼

A/N: god I hate the french/j. shu fuckers sorry this is so short I love yall I swear

Pairing: Shu Itsuki x fem!reader

Content: You've been annoying Shu whilst he is busy, so he decides to take matters into his own hands on making you behave.

Warnings: NSFW, oral sex(m receiving), face fucking, rough oral sex, degrading(shu to reader), humiliation kink, brief mentions of prey/predator dynamics, mean dom shu, petnames(doll, my dear), french person/j

Words: 608

NSFW oneshot under cut!

A Simple Task~

"Oh hush, doll, you were the one begging for my attention. Don't cry now that you've got it"

You whined, grip on Shus thighs tightening and tears blurring your gaze as you took him further into your mouth. Fuck, why did it hurt so much? Its not like Shu was huge, more average than anything, was he using some weird mind trick on you to make it worse than usual? Sure, you had been annoying him a bit today, but that's only because he was too caught up in whatever sewing project he was doing, ignoring your pleads to cuddle and have him shower you with affection.

So you'd taken matters into your own hands, or at least tired to. In your defence, jumping into his lap and attacking his neck with kisses seemed like a good idea in the moment, but of course, all it did was get you shoved under the desk and ordered to suck him off until he said you could stop.

"Don't be pathetic" Shu scolded, grabbing the back of your head and tangling his hands in your hair, pulling the strands so hard you felt like he might rip them out. "Such a simple task, and you can't even get it right. How on earth did I end up with someone this useless?"

His insults, you hated how much they turned you on.

His cock hit the back of your throat as he began to guild you back and forth, your jaw straining from the stretch. You hallowed out your cheeks, trying your hardest to move your tongue around his thick and throbbing shaft, but you could barely focus. Your movements came out messy, desperate even. Not at all like you had hoped. The tears started to fall with one thrust that made you gag hard enough that you saw stars in your vision. God, was he trying to make you pass out?

A sigh left Shus lips. Whether it was out of relief or disappointment, you weren't quite sure, and it didn't matter. However he was feeling, it didn't stop him from shoving his entire length down your throat, cutting off your airways and forcing you to choke and spit all over his cock. Drool foamed out the sides of your mouth, dripping down your chin and staining his pants.

Shu forced your head up so your eyes meet his. There was a longing in them, one of lust and desire. One that made him look near animistic, like a predator hunting his prey. "Now now doll, breathe through your nose. I can't have you suffocating while I'm still inside you, how disgusting would that be? Haven't I trained you better than this?"

Trained. Like you were his pet.

You could barely see past the tears clouding your vision, but you didn't need to see to know there was that smirk on his face. He loved this, being in control, having you completely under his mercy. Humiliating you was his favourite thing in the world, having his dick down your throat whilst he did it was just an added bonus.

"Maybe this will help you admit how truly unworthy you are of my attention, and yet I give it to you free of charge. Such a spoilt thing you are"

No. You were never going to admit that. Even if it was true.

"I see you've gone quiet. No more crying? A little punishment does you good, don't you think?" Shu cooed, running his fingers down the nape of your neck, paying special attention to the part that budged from his cock.

"Don't worry, there's still plenty to come, my dear"

[starsomens]

“Yeah so this tour was one of our longest but also most reWARding”

“Noah…you okay there?” The interviewer asked

“Y-yes just fine..just rolled over my foot with my chair” he chuckled clearly out of a breath

“Alright just making, so I got one more question to wrap things up here”

Little did they know that under that desk you were the cause of Noah’s struggle. You were both supposed to get some pent up energy out before the interview but you didn’t have enough time. So you may or may have not snuck into the room and under the desk. Flipped him out of his sweats and started at the end of the interview. Just a few pumps every now and then nothing Noah can’t handle. Then came your tongue. Your fucking tongue. Giving little licks to the tip, long licks up the bottom of the shaft sending shivers through his body. Using his tip like a lollipop, licking, sucking and popping it in and out of your mouth.

Of Al times. You decided to taking him in right at the last 2 questions. His breath was shaking, his eyes were distant, he was pissed off but he was also fucking horny. Feeling your mouth bobbing up and down his length. One of his hands was able and to get away and grab a hold of your hair and push you down on his dick fully causing a slight gag, leaving Noah satisfied but in the verge of just hanging up the call

“Yea She’s doing great” you hear him say

“Yea whenever we see you both together it’s great you look like you have a great dynamic”

“Yeah we rEAlly do. She support me..and helps me with whatever she can and visa versa. COULDNT ask for someone better” he meant every word he just hated that you were doing this while he spoke. He felt you hallow your cheeks to suck on him more harshly. You were enjoying every second of this. From the way he filled your mouth, to his taste to knowing how helpless he was in that moment from try to keep the interviewer from knowing what was happening.

You hear the call end and his chair rolls back enough to look at you.

“You little slut” He scowled making you look at him by pulling your hair back enough “you want to show me what a slut you are huh? Grind on my shoe while I face fuck you”

You couldn’t deny you had been throbbing the entire time you were getting him off. While one hand pumped him the other was playing with you clit just imagining what would come after. However this was the last thing you’d think of. He flexed his foot slightly upwards so you’re able to ride and grind on it. His large hand holding your head in place as he fucks your mouth

“Shit…fucking take it. Isnt this…what you wanted?” He asked looking down at you feeling your legs start to shake on either side of his leg. Tears ran down your face, you shook against his leg as you could feel an orgasm approaching so close to

“Fuck…shit I’m gonna cum!” He closes his eyes throwing his head back against his chair “fuck…Fuck!” His hips stutter against your mouth as he poured himself into your mouth and down your throat. He pants heavily as you pull him out of your mouth, out of breath and fucked out of your mind. His cum drips down from your mouth, your panties were soaked and you were pretty sure those white vans of his had a stain now.

His hand cups your jaw to look up at him

“Baby…I love how needy you can get, and it was pretty hot” he admired bringing your face closer to his “but don’t do that shit again, unless you wanna be fucked on camera next time” he kisses your forehead helping you up in to his lap from the floor

“How about a shower? I think we both need it” you offer

“Well you more than me” he smirked whipping the corner of your mouth.

[jeonsbabygirlsworld]

"CANDY MAN"

SUMMARY: your morning was awesome with jungkook but as you are on the end of your day it turns a 360.

PAIRINGS: weed dealer jk X reader

WORD COUNT: 1.1K

WARNINGS : They both smoke weed , unprotected sex, oral (m) ,hickeys loads , jk likes when it’s messy, reader spits in his mouth , jk has a dick piercing . Changkyun and minhyun are mentioned .

A/N: I couldn’t stop myself from writing this vogue jungkook is the best thing ever 😭 Also sorry for the end hehe 😬. Please like, reblog and comment your feedback’s mean so much to me 😌♥️ENJOY SWEET PIES 🥰

You’ve been awake for a few minutes now it’s 7 a.m. in the morning, and you thought of brushing and going back to bed again for some cuddling with jungkook. He slept there naked just in his Calvin Klein boxers.

Coming back to the bed to climb on top of him pecking his lips and groaning jungkook waves you off. You smirk and start to grind on his morning wood “ What do you want y/n? It’s still seven Hun” he says groggily waking up. “I want you kook, can I ?” His hands came to palm your ass to help you grind him but you took them away from you , “Sure then go ahead”.

You softly made moaning noises when you leaned down to kiss his lips “open you mouth kook wanna spit” you said already gathering some of your saliva in your mouth , opening his mouth he let you do it. Jungkook’s hands were already between you both palming your pussy over your panties. “ go ahead rub yourself on my fingers, baby” Jungkook mumbled, moving your panties to side jungkook hissed when he felt your core already wet with your slick “your so fucking wet baby” humming you continued grinding and kissing and sucking some hickeys on his neck.

Adjusting his body a bit jungkook slides up reaching over the nightstand to grab on the rolled-up weed. Removing his boxers , Jungkook has his foreskin pierced, the site of his cock pierced made you moan “fuck kook every-time I see this piercing makes me feel things” jungkook chuckled while you played with his piercing “suck me now yeah baby, gonna smoke while you suck me” Jungkook added already lighting it up. “ yeah kook I’ll make you feel good”. You started with the firstly his heavy balls when he groaned “Yeah go, baby, spit on it, baby” Curses left his mouth.

Jungkook always had a sensitive spot for getting his balls sucked you sucked him hallowing your cheeks around one of his balls and making a sucking sound while palming his hard cock “ mph…..Jagi, gonna cum untouched” he warns “ go on kook cum on my face” now going back to suck his cock and kitten licking his red swollen tip and teasing his piercing ,gagging till your nose was pressed against his pelvis. While jungkook was still chasing his high and with you gagging around him. There was someone about to ring the doorbell ruining his orgasm.

“Fuck who the hell is here at 7 AM” Jungkook groaned telling you he will be back in a few.

Wearing his boxers the ringing of the bell pissed him off a drunk Changkyun appears when he opens the door “ Why the fuck are you here early morning?” Jungkook hissed seeing his state “ Get me the costly weed jungkook I somehow fucked up” Changkyun says standing with the support of your door wall.

“ yeah, wait a second dose minhyun needs one too?” Jungkook says already getting one for Changkyun “Yeah give me one I’ll pass him the other one” Changkyun brings his wallet passing jungkook the money. “Thank you, bro, I hope this shit helps me”Waving him off jungkook closes the door. Taking the money he kept it your wallet .

He saw you already teasing your pussy while palming your breasts tugging on your nipple and moaning his name “Shall we continue where we left Jagi?” Jungkook says jumping on top of you “hell yeah kook” chuckling when he kisses and pulls on your lower lip and grinds on your panty-clad pussy “ mm fuck y/n, I’m gonna smack the fuck out of Changkyun when we next meet” Jungkook said complaining “ it’s fine I figured he must have fucked up that’s why he was here early at 7 “. Jungkook gets back on his knees removing his boxers getting his half-used rool and lighting it again “Pass me that kook” Humming he passes it to you and continues to remove your panties.

Teasing his cock with precum dripping from the red swollen tip he teased your pussy lips “Are you gonna be a good girl?”jungkook asks you slowly teasing his tip inside your pussy “Just relax baby I’ll make you feel good” reassuring you he eased his tip inside you while you finished the roll tossing it in the ashtray “ fuck kook…feels full” you moaned your hands coming to leave scratches on his back, biting his moans back he let outs a grunt when you clench around him “ That’s good baby, keep doing it, gets so tight when you clench baby” he slows his pace just to hear the sound of your wet pussy “ Fast kook gonna come” you whimpered “so messy baby” thrusting fast jungkook asks you to hold on for him “be good Jagi …. Hold it gonna cum too” tears rushing down your face” can’t kook need to cum now” you said “I told you to stay quiet Jagi” Jungkook groaned , headboards now banging the wall behind your bed “ cum baby cum did so good for me” you both cum undone panting heavily jungkook kisses your lips “ did great baby” leaving some hickeys on your neck and softly kissing each of them , chuckling he slowly backs away when you thought you were done jungkook moves down towards you cum leaking pussy,” made a mess baby”, slowly pushing them back inside “ didn’t wanna mess up the sheets baby” Keeping from making noises you nodded at the overstimulation, he slowly removes his fingers and licked them clean .

It’s late in the afternoon when you go to buy some ingredients for dinner Jungkook insisted on making today “jungkook I’ll be heading outside now” you said already wearing your boots when you hear the doorbell opening the door you gasp when you see the sight in front of you.

“Miss we are here to check if there’s any weed or drugs” they said already getting into your house. While the officers continue to search up your house Jungkook is standing there bewildered .

The officers now go to both of your bedroom , That’s when you both look at each other.

We fucked up .

[tovalhallaandback]

Vores Lille Dukke

Summary: A night at the club on All Hallows Eve turns into frighteningly intimate evening when you run into York’s undead King and Queen who offer an invitation that you’d be stupid to turn down. 

Pairing: Vamp!Sigtyggr x Vamp!Stiorra x Human!AFAB!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+), threesome, unprotected sex, p in v sex, oral sex (giving male/female, receiving male/female), lowkey dom/sub vibes (dom Sigtryggr, switch Stiorra, Stiorra is also a bratty sub lol, sub reader), minor rough sex, minor blood kink, minor praise kink, mentions of blood, legal alcohol drinking (but reader still able to consent), possibly more that I'm missing ?

Wordcount: 10.3 (Yeah...i went a little nuts..)

AN: So uh, happy belated halloween?! I have more to say in the AO3 ANs lawl.

Cross-posted on to AO3 since it's so long. Also if you want to skip to the smut, then skip to the bolded part.

There’s a luminescent glow in your favorite club tonight, black lights illuminating only whites and neons while casting everything else into eerie shadows. The bass from the speakers beats so loudly, you feel it in your bones, like a second heartbeat as you lean against the bar nursing a cocktail, watching your friends. You can’t help but laugh as one slaps another party goer across the face while the other seems like they have been starved from human touch for centuries with the way they try to devour their companion. At least, they both seem to be having fun, though you wish they had kept their promise of not abandoning you tonight when they forced you out of your apartment. 

The costumes tonight lack creativity - white bunny costumes as an excuse to where lingerie in public, skeleton body suits like a second skin, angels with far too salacious grins…Though creativity tends to get stifled when there’s only so many white and neon costumes to choose from for a halloween blacklight party. And besides, it’s not like your ingenuity is any better, spotting several other possessed dolls within the throngs of people on the dance floor, even if you had no clue that you’d be coming out tonight until four hours earlier when your friends arrived clad in costume, giddy with excitement as they announced a change in plans from your annual horror movie marathon. And for a last minute costume, you look damn fucking good.  

Sure you would have rather kept to your converse instead of the four-inch strappy stilettos one of your friends insisted you wear knowing far too well that  high heels, cobblestone, and alcohol are a lethal mix, but you’re still quite proud of the rest of your thrown-together costume. It’s a simple assemble - just a white pleated skirt with your favorite white tank top; both of which emphasize your favorite physical attributes in just the right way. Then of course, there’s the black leather jacket and white lace-trimmed thigh highs that add a little bit of edge to your look. But the cherry on top? Your make-up, so detailed and precise that it looks like a professional special-effects make-up artist completed it. So while tonight might not be your usual scene, at least you feel damn fucking confident in the way that you look. 

“What’s your poison?” You just barely hear a voice that can only be described as sounding as sweet and harmonious as Tchaikovsky’s “Waltz of the Snowflakes” say over the blaring music, though still loud enough that your heels pop off the ground for a moment, still unable to shake the feeling of being watched that’s haunted you the last couple of weeks.  At first, you ignore it despite the voice’s alluring nature, like a siren in a storm, beckoning you to find its source. Plus, you’re certain they must be talking to someone else. But then it comes a second time, even louder and clearer, like the person has moved closer to you, “It looks really fucking good.” 

Your eyes flick down to the deep ruby red cocktail in your hands. The stranger’s right; it is fucking delicious, tasting mostly of sweet cherries and pomegranate. It’s one of those drinks that you could easily down five of in a row, completely forgetting there’s alcohol laced between the sweetness.

“I think it was called Dracula’s blood? Or something cheesy like-“ The words get stuck in your throat as you meet the deep dark eyes of the stranger, not quite able to discern their color under the blacklight. The petite lithe female looks like a walking goddess with her pin-straight dark chocolate brown hair falling almost to her waist and skin-tight little black dress that falls just to her mid-thigh. You instinctively swallow, licking your lips as she stares back at you, a sweet but tantalizing smile hanging off her lips.

“Like that,” you say finally, though it comes out almost like a whisper. But, it’s a miracle you were able to even finish you sentence with the way this young women has captured your attention. 

“Would you like another?” she asks as she waves down the bartender. 

All you can do is nod, still awestruck by how perfect her cream colored skin looks under the purple-hued lighting and how the dress she wears draws your gaze to the delicate slope of her breasts, then the curve of her waist. But on the bright side, she seems to hardly notice your blatant ogling (or she’s just used to it). 

Either way, you chastise yourself for such behavior, forcing your mouth that you didn’t even realize fell open closed. And somehow, you manage to remove yourself off the bar, the sleeves of your jacket making a squelching noise as they peel off the tacky ledge covered in God knows what.

As you reach into your pocket for your card, the mysterious female shakes her head, “It’s on me.”  With a gracious grin, you accept the drink from her then bring it your lips, allowing the sweet nectar to flow over your lips one more.

“Fuck that is good,” the young woman says. 

She adds something else, but you hardly register it, now enamored by the way the crimson drink drips off one of her canines (wait have those always been so sharp and pronounced?!) and onto her plush lower lip like she’d just sunk her her teeth into someone’s flesh. Then, you find yourself wishing for chance to taste the beverage on her tongue… And that’s when her costume finally makes sense - the little black dress with sheer black tights, the velvet choker around her neck, the smears of blood in odd places, the overly emphasized canines…she’s a vampire. 

“Great costume,” you splutter out then immediately close your eyes. Fuck?! Great costume?! If she weren’t still standing there, you’d probably be hitting yourself over the head for such a stupid fucking line. 

She smiles at your sweetly, like you’re a cub who thinks they can keep up with the lions. “Thanks,” her eyes do a once over your costume. “Big Child’s Play fan?” 

Your hand seesaws, “Yes and no. Mostly just the ones from the late 90s that are more comedy than horror. Let me guess - True Blood? The Vampire Diaries?” 

“Something like that.” 

Your fingers tap against your thigh as your eyes fall over the crowd again, rattling your brain for something more clever to say to the vixen then talk about your fucking costumes. You spot one friend, now practically fucking their companion on the dance floor as other people grind, jump, and fist-pump to the beat. You’re still scanning the crowd for the other when your eyes meet a different stranger’s gaze. The taller man leans across the far wall, a drink at his lips as he stares back at you and the vixen to your left. You’re certain that someone as devilishly handsome as him has to have his eyes on his clear counterpart, but then her glass clinks against yours as she whispers, “I think someone likes you.” 

But before you can counter her, she’s gone, unable to even locate where she disappeared too. Besides, it only takes two seconds to realize that she’s right as the other stranger’s eyes remain glued to you instead of following wherever the chestnut-haired stranger disappeared too. Heat rushes to your cheeks , and suddenly you’ve never been more thankful to be in a club with backlights. Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you finger waggle at the stranger, swearing you see the flash of a smirk as he takes another sip of whatever he’s drinking. 

Maybe if you were three or four drinks deep, you might have enough confidence to waltz over to the new stranger. But you hardly feel the familiar warmth or euphoria pulsing through your veins, still only on your second drink with the first having been nursed for almost an hour. Besides, there’s no fucking chance you’d have a chance with him. Right? 

For God’s sake he looks like fucking Mr. James Dean with the jeans, glowing white t-shirt, and mohawk…? (Really you’re just certain the sides of his head are shaven.)  But either way, he looks like the type of guy who need only wink and panties fall to the floor for him. (And that’s just in shitty lighting from thirty-feet across the room. Up close? He probably looks like a Greek fucking god.) 

Your other friend appears, swiftly dragging you by the hand as they weave through the crowd towards the bathrooms unintentionally saving you from embarrassing yourself a second time this evening. Their iron grip around your wrist disappears once in the sanctity in the bathroom, then your friends turns to face you. “You cool finding your own way home tonight?” 

Your friend glows pink under the neon sign mounted above the sinks reading, ‘Please Don’t Do Coke in the Bathroom’. There’s an odd coziness to the brick-walled bathroom with four onyx stalls and and a double vanity sink, like the owners of the club knew most people retreat to the bathroom for a moment to themselves as just the thrum of the bass beats through the walls now. It’s nice being able to actually hear your own thoughts and not need to shout to be heard. 

“Yeah. After you both promptly abandoned me the minute we got drinks, I figured that would be the case.” 

Your friend wraps you in too tight a hug, then places a gentle kiss on your temple. “We don’t deserve you.” 

“No, you really fucking don’t,” you say with a giggle as the edge of the countertop bites into your hipbones. It’s not the first time they both have pulled this move on you, nor will it be the last. But, you’ve never minded it, just insisted all three of you ensure your location-shares stay on and check-in that you’ve all made it home by lunch the next day. 

You listen intently as your friend rattles off to you all the details they have learned about their prospective companion for the evening, clearly elated by how the night has shaped out. Eventually, you get your chance to tell her about the two strangers who caught your eye, only to quickly deny any plans of leaving with them when your friend wiggles her eyebrows at you. There’s no way in hell you have a chance with either of them. Then with one more giddy hug, they leave you in the bathroom alone. 

The silence is comforting, appreciating how you can finally think straight as you try to decide whether to stay a bit longer or to leave. Plus, the bottle of pedialyte you guzzled in anticipation of the evening has finally made its way through your system. 

You jump in your heels when you reemerge from one of the stalls, having hardly heard the female stranger from earlier enter the bathroom. She sits cross-legged on the grey concrete counter top, the deep cherry red of the soles of her heels flashing at you as she uncrosses her legs, her smile widening, like she’d been waiting on you. She pops off the counter as graceful as a feline, her hips swaying as she glides effortlessly towards you like she’s barefoot instead of wearing at least four-inch black patent-leather Louboutin stilettos. 

“I got worried you left,” her musical voice says, sending a tingle down your spine. She smells like sweet vanilla, roses, and like she’d make all your dreams come true if you asked.

“Just needed to cool off,” you manage to mutter despite her proximity. If you just leaned forward half an inch, you’d finally find out what your chosen drink of the evening tastes like on her lips. 

“Do you mind if touch you? Fix a few things out place?” 

You shake your head. Of course you wouldn’t fucking mind if she touched you; she could do anything she wants to you. The graze of her knuckles against your own when she handed you your drink earlier, then again when you clinked glasses together, had sent a spark of electricity coursing through your veins, leaving you with wanting more.

Goosebumps erupt across your collarbone when her wine-red nails scrape across the tops your breasts as her fingers curl into the hem of your tank top. She shimmies it down a little lower, so the material highlights your cleavage a little better. Your chest rises and falls slowly when her hands move to your hair, then your face, making small adjustments here and there, until she finally grips you at your shoulders gleaming at you like you’re her masterpiece. “That’s better. Now, I do hope you at least say ‘hi’ to your admirer before you leave. I’m sure it would make his night.” 

You nod without quite realizing it, hypnotized by her scent…her charm…the way her breasts seem to strain against the bodice of her dress every time she inhales…. Up closer now, you swear she seems familiar, like this is not the first time that you’ve seen her. But, she seems young enough that you presume it’s from your job or university classes. 

“You two know each other?” you ask, cursing under your breath after the fact for the way your voice squeaked out the words. Fucking hell, you need to pull yourself together. 

“Something like that,” she says for the second time this evening, still seemingly oblivious to the way your mind drifts off wondering what it would be like to end up in between the sheets with her. 

You let the vixen guide you out of the bathroom, arm looped with hers like you’ve been besties your entire life. Thankfully, she deposits you back at the bar before sauntering away into the crowd again where she disappears within the sea of people as you berate yourself for forgetting to even ask her name. 

A bartender finally wonders back over towards you, but not take your order, instead just handing your drink of the night right to you. Just beyond the bartender at the other end of the bar, the vixen (wait when did she get over there?) blows you a kiss. This time when she rejoins the dance floor, you follow her with your eyes. She stops when she reaches the middle, leaning forward as she whispers into a tall burly blonde nearly twice her size, dressed like Fred from Scooby Doo. 

And then…fuck that’s fast. Then again, she is drop dead gorgeous and you too would probably follow her like a lost puppy if she asked you too. A pang of jealousy rips through you suddenly wishing you could be the man who gets to worship her this evening. But it’s only a momentary feeling, for seconds later the vixen’s cupping her hand around the male stranger’s ear from earlier. Then with a wink so clearly meant for you, she drags the other male towards the exit. Shit, and here you thought you wouldn’t actually have to follow through with the promise you made in the bathroom earlier, could just slip out undetected in a few minutes. 

Your eyes flash up to the ceiling then to the DJ then the bathrooms, desperately searching for anything that could hold your gaze instead of the handsome stranger’s eyes. It’s not that you don’t want him, because oh my fucking God, you would trade a kidney to even spend one night with him. It’s just that you’re not known for pick-up lines…And what if he’s just been staring at you because something is out of place with your costume? 

But a voice so tantalizing with its velvety smoothness and hint of an accent that it forces you to find its source trails over your ear, saving you from having to make any such moves. “You know it’s dangerous for a young woman like yourself to be out unaccompanied.” 

You don’t realize that your mouth has fallen open again till the owner of the voice reaches out and presses a finger beneath your chin till your lips meet. Of course the voice belongs to the handsome stranger from earlier in the evening; it matches him perfectly. 

Fuck, he is even sexier close-up…and also supposed to be a vampire? For a minute there when he smirked at you, he seemed to have the same over-accentuated canines like the young woman from earlier. Plus, there’s also those dark splotches at the hem and collar of his shirt… Regardless, the alcohol has thankfully finally begun to hit, just enough now that you feel your earlier trepidations with flirting disappear but still remain of sound mind and judgement.

So instead of dwelling on what exactly his costume is tonight, you say “Technically I did not arrive alone nor am I currently alone,” a giggle escapes your lips as he peers around you then looks behind his shoulder like he’s searching for a companion. “You’re here.”

His eyes are lighter than the vixen’s, but you cannot quite determine whether they are blue or green yet, nor can you figure out the color of the remaining hair on his head, braided down the center like you’ve seen in those medieval viking television shows. But, his jawline is so sharp it could cut steel and based on upon the way muscle ropes around his forearms and biceps, you’re certain there is a chiseled six-pack you’d love to run your tongue over hiding under that t-shirt. 

“Ah, but I’m a stranger. Could easily be a serial killer out to lure young women just like yourself under the guise of a good time.” 

A flash from one of the strobe lights flickers off of the array of rings riddled over his left hand as he brings his drink of choice to his lips. The golden ring implanted with a larger burgundy stone on his left finger intrigues you the most, reminding you of a class ring or perhaps a family heirloom with how worn it appears, like it’s been in his family for a very very long time. He looks oddly familiar to you too, but maybe he also attends your university. 

“Who says that I’m not the serial killer?” He chuckles at your lame deflection and you think you might just die then and there. “Besides, we won’t be strangers anymore if we exchange names.” 

The purple-hued light highlights his teeth when he grins in a frighteningly sexy kind of way sending a shudder down your spine, “Sigtryggr, and yours?” 

Sigtryggr…interesting. You’re pretty sure it’s Scandinavian, yet you get the feeling that it’s no longer a common name even for that region of the world. But then again, maybe it’s a family name passed down for generations. 

You tell him your name, then add “So, Sigtryggr, are you enjoying your evening?” 

“It seems like it’s on the uptake now.” Damn, he’s smooth. And before you can even think to respond, a scent that reminds you of drinking spiced apple cider in an evergreen forest during autumn washes over you all while his warm breath starts to tickle your ear, “You could solidify that outcome if you went home with me tonight.” 

Is it the most ingenious line to ever exist? Nope. But does it work? Yep. Yep, it fucking does. Because who would say no to an invitation like that from a man as handsome and sexy as him? 

Your thighs squeeze together as a rush of heat washes over you, desire brewing deep in your core at his prospect. Never in your life did you think we’re that easy to persuade, especially by someone you had only just barely talked too, and yet here you were letting this stranger lead you out of the club into the brick-walled lined back alley. 

A crisp autumn breeze sends an abandoned beer can rolling down the alley while leaves of browns, reds, and oranges skate across the pavement and a chill runs down your spine as you instinctively wrap your jacket further around you. Then there’s Sigtryggr with not even a singular patch of goosebumps in sight.

“You’re not cold?” 

“Where I’m from, this is warm. Here,” his hands feel like they’ve been resting in front of a fire as they rub up and down your biceps and oh - his eyes are a brilliant piercing blue, like a frozen lake… so easy to drown in…. “My place is only a couple of blocks but would you prefer to go back inside and wait for a taxi instead of walking?” 

“Don’t you mean an uber?” 

“Same thing. Question still stands.” Then that grin that makes your knees go weak beneath you appears again when you shake your head no, “Good, because I don’t think I can wait any longer.” 

His hands thread through your hair as he tilts your head back sending waves of desire crashing throughout your body. Your lips meet and you immediately taste iron. Fuck had you been so desperate that you had you bitten him by accident? Or maybe did he bite you? Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to mind. And before you can dwell on the thought, his tongue swipes across your lower lip eliciting a gasp that grants him access to your mouth. 

Your muscles begin to relax as you give into the kiss, letting your hands roam up over his broad shoulders to his head, the stubble from where he’s shaved the sides of his head prickling your fingers. The heat building at the apex of thighs begins to throb as the intensity and desperation between the two of you begins to climax. Fuck, you want him so badly that you’d drop your panties right now and let him fuck you against the brick wall, onlookers be damned. So what if you end up in jail or in the paper tomorrow? He’s fucking hot and so worth it. 

  You find yourself keening forward onto your toes, eyes still shut, when Sigtryggr’s lips suddenly disappear from yours, desperate for another taste of the bourbon laced with iron on his tongue. “Finished already, my love?” he asks. 

No, of course you’re not fucking finished with him. You two have only just gotten started, the heat pooling in your belly begging to be relieved by either his cock or one of those long ring-clad fingers of his. 

Your eyes pop back open when your back hits the cool bricks, breaking you of your daze like having a bucket of ice water dumped over your head. Sigtryggr’s hand rests gently on your shoulder, holding you firmly in place as you follow his gaze, finding the chestnut-haired angelic vixen from earlier striding towards you as she licks her fingers.

And that’s when you clock the glittering gold ring with a deep burgundy stone shaped like a flower, looking oddly… familiar. Then like a flash of a lightbulb turning on, it comes to you; it matches the gold one that you had written off as just family heirloom of Sigtryggr’s …like a coordinated set…both rings looking straight out of the early medieval section at the museum and worn on their left ring fingers… Then another headlight from a car passing by illuminates the two strangers; alright, they definitely are dressed like vampires…a matching costume…because they’re married. They are most definitely married. 

Fuck, you didn’t know that they were married, let alone married to each other. But, she practically pushed you into Sigtryggr’s lap, hadn’t she? Or maybe she was talking about a different stranger? And that wink had nothing to do with the promise she had asked you to make in the bathroom? 

Either way, you open your mouth to apologize, but the vixen beats you to it, her melodic voice gaining a vicious edge to it as she says, “Tasted too much like coke and fuck boy for my liking. But, I think she’ll taste much sweeter on my tongue.” 

“Too bad I’ve already claimed her for the evening.” 

“I saw her first. And you don’t mind sharing, do you?” Sigtryggr’s palms slide up and down your waist now, but it does nothing to help the fear rising inside of you as they both stare you down like two ravenous predators. Oh.. so she meant that question for you. 

You gulp, eyes shifting between the two of them as you sputter, “I-Are you two divorced?” Because, they have to be…right? It feels like the only explanation for what’s happening.. and shit, the vixen most definitely could kill you in a heartbeat.

“Nah that’s on my agenda for next century.” 

Sigtyggr’s head whips towards his wife faster than an elastic snapping back into place, “What?” 

“I’m kidding, sheesh,” the vixen says with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “I file for divorce once when women finally earned the right when we were already due to update our marriage license and he’s still so fucking sensitive about it, as if we have not been together for the last millennia.”  Damn, they have a backstory for their costumes and everything. They must really fucking love halloween…or roleplaying…or both. Alright, so maybe being swingers isn’t totally out of the realm of possibility here…  

“My wife, the drama queen.” 

“And you fucking love it.” 

“I do.” Then suddenly, Sigtryggr begins conversing with his wife in a dialect you don’t recognize, some Scandinavian language probably. 

And that’s when you put together who they are or rather what they are… the eerily ancient rings, the pure perfection of their appearances, their enticing scents, the old yet modern ways in which they speak, the iron on your tongue…. 

Your thumb brushes over your lower lip, coming away clean. The only blood you can see on Sigtryggr is on his - yeah no, that’s definitely real blood on his clothes. And the vixen’s lips? Definitely not still stained from the cocktail… Plus those hyper-realistic over exaggerated canines are not some weird cosmetic surgery either…These aren’t some silly costumes.. Nor are they history fanatics or family heirloom hoarders…  They are history. They are…. vampires. 

But not just any vampires either. You’ve heard about a million different versions of the legend of the undead king and queen of York, more frequently as of late due to the season. Some hailed the hauntingly beautiful young woman in front of you as the secret queen of York, Sihtric Caech’s true love and mistress whom all his children were truly sired through, his marriage to Eadgyth only political. Others believed she was King Athelstan’s sister but changed her name along with the king of Northumbria as to not raise suspicion when they were believed to be dead. But your absolute favorite version of the myth told the story of a king so distraught, driven mad even, by the death of his first wife that he sold his soul to Hel in exchange for an eternal life with her. 

The beat of your heart begins to thrum in your ears, something deep inside of your urging to take the opportunity to run. But instead, your feet stay firmly in place, too mesmerized by the way the mated pair in front of you toys the line of arguing and flirting, expressions shifting between teasing smiles and exasperated eye rolls as the two lover’s quarrel. A flash of light from the headlights of a car reflect off the undead queen’s pearl white teeth momentarily when she smiles making your breathing halt, looking like some demonic mix of angel and monster. 

Monster. Right. Vampire. Right. 

Their love quarrel continues with you now certain it’s over who gets to sink their teeth into your neck then suck you dry till you’re just a cold limp corpse on the ground. Your chest begins to rise and fall thrice as fast as its previous pace. Vampires. They’re vampires, idiot. And what do vampires eat? Dumb little humans who fall for their charm…. You need to leave. Now. Before you become their next meal. 

A puff of dust erupts from the brick wall as a loud cracking sound that can only come from cement (or maybe bones?) splitting  echoes across the alleyway at the same time Sigtryggr emits a low primal growl from deep within his chest as he pins his wife to the structure. Your heels pop off the ground momentarily, but more from the suddenness of the gesture; honestly the motion should have terrified both of you and the queen with its intensity. But while the vixen just giggles playfully at her husband, you feel the deep ache from earlier makes itself at home between your thighs once again. Worst of all, you’re stuck ogling at them once more as she takes his bottom lip between her teeth, urging his lips to meet hers….

Right. Fuck. Vampires. Fuck. Want to eat you…even if they are hot and so lost in their lust for one another that you feel that pang of jealousy a second time that evening. So lost… they don’t even know you’re there anymore. So lost… they won’t even notice if you leave! Which you should definitely do…Now! 

Your feet finally begin to move beneath you as you attempt to tiptoe away from them, slowly turning towards your exit. But just as you think you’re free, your ankle begins to roll.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! They will definitely hear you eating shit on the pavement. Once again - fuck, your best friends and their insistence on stilettos with cobble stone. But before the edge of your foot even fully makes contact with the pavement, a firm grip lands on your shoulder, steadying you. Of course they fucking noticed before it even happened, even heard it happening, enhanced abilities and reflexes be fucking damned.

You still turn your head back even though you know exactly whose hand has just saved you from embarrassment. “Careful there. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt before we’re done with you, ” the vixen says with a wink. 

“Are y-you going to kill me?” you manage to stutter out. 

“Oh no, youre too pretty for that. We took care of that earlier anyways. We just want to have fun with you.” 

Fun?! What could they mean by fun other than killing you? What the fuck do vampires do to have fun? “Like go to an arcade or something?” 

“Were you planning on going to an arcade with my husband?” Shit, you said that last part out loud didn’t you? And no, you were planning to fu- Oh. OH. 

“So what will it be a yes or a no? My dear husband said I’m not allowed to make the decision for you, but you better —” 

“Stiorra,” the undead king chides. So, that’s the vixen’s name…Seems fitting for her as well. 

“So, if my answer is yes, how does this work? Are we taking turns or something? I mean he’s your husband so obviously you get first cho-” 

“Oh, don’t flatter my husband. He’s not the one being shared. It’s you.” Oh, fuck. You definitely did not see that in the cards for tonight.. And then Stiorra answers the question you didn’t even realize you still had, “Together.” 

Together…like a…like a threesome. Oh….Oh. “Yeah, I think that uh..I think that’s fine.” You say trying to hide the giddiness building inside of you. Isn’t the saying that everything can be solved with a threesome? 

Stiorra turns to her husband, a look that can only be categorized as ‘I-told-you-so’ clear across her features as he remarks, “Well, lille elskede, my wife gets her way once again.”

“No, that doesn’t fit her at all. She’s our…our lille dukke.” 

Not even fifteen minutes later, you’re tucked against Stiorra’s lithe frame, already feeling reluctant at having to eventually detach yourself from the warmth she provided you on the walk from the club to their apartment. Their flat is unsurprisingly the penthouse suite; what else would you do with a millennia worth of savings?

“This is your place?” Fuck, what another dumb fucking question. Did Sigtryggr not just use a key to open the door? 

“Quaint isn’t it? Wanted something more discreet and cozy as we’re here so infrequently and mostly for business.” Sure, the place could be considered quaint if you were used to mansions and castles - oh, right, you may not have confirmed it officially, but you’re still certain that they have to be the undead king and queen. 

You humbly accept Stiorra’s offer of water as your eyes scale the vaulted ceilings, the silvery white glow of the moon shining through the skylights. But, your time exploring their apartment is cut short as Stiorra practically yanks you down the hall, not even stopping when her fingers curl into the collar of her husband’s shirt to drag him along too. 

Their bedroom hosts a beautifully espresso-colored ornate four-poster bed (probably a California king) garnished with what looks like the most luxurious, soft, plush linen set in a deep navy that you’ve ever laid your eyes upon. The bright overhead light coming from a beautiful gold and crystal chandelier blinds you briefly before dimming down to a soft warm glow, just enough that you can see them clearly. Well, there’s clearly no time to run now seeing as you’ve officially ventured into the lions den. 

Butterflies dance in your stomach as the anticipation for the evening peaks inside of you. Your grip on the heavy crystal glass in your hands tightens as your hand begins to tremor. Sure, this might not be your first time, but it is your first threesome with thousand-year-old vampires who most definitely know what they are doing when it comes to pleasure. 

But then a gentle hand brushes the hair away from your shoulders, tickling the delicate skin there in the most delightful way. You turn towards the sensation, your eyes meeting the deep chocolate brown of Stiorra’s who beams at you like an angel as her husband trails kisses along her neck. 

“I’m going to kiss you now, okay?” The sweetness and sincerity in her musical voice soothes the trepidation inside of you, just enough that you take the step forward towards her to close the distance. The glass in your hands gets passed to Sigtryggr, disappearing almost like magic (though really it only seems that way as you’re too busy worrying your lower lip as you become enchanted by Stiorra’s beauty once more). 

Then finally, her lips are on yours, gentle and soft - like she’s easing you into the evening ahead. The taste of sweet maraschino cherries overpowers the lingering bits of iron from her earlier meal, but it’s the way her feather-light touch skims over your frame that makes you wobble at the knees. For a moment, it’s just the two of you underneath the most glorious clear night sky, the kind of night where you can see the milkyway in all its different shades of blues, purples, greens and grays. 

And oh my god, the way her tongue runs over the seam of your lips has you daydreaming about how glorious it might be to have her wield it between your thighs. She giggles when you whimper into her mouth, hands fumbling into her hair as you attempt to pull her as flush to you as possible. But instead, she shifts beneath your touch till one of your hands lands on something much harder, like granite. 

Your eyes flutter open, unveiling the new placement of your hand. Sigtryggr lifts your chin, pulling you towards him as your lips meet for the second time this evening. You can taste his wife on his lips and the faint remnants of bourbon. Melting into his touch, you keen forward onto your tiptoes as you pull him closer, nails digging into the sides of his head. 

A sharp nip at your neck has you inhaling sharply, but only for a moment as seconds later, your head begins to fall back as a tongue sweeps over the tender area. As you relish in the feeling, one of your companions hands slides up across your stomach till it lands on one of your breasts. Your back arches, pressing yourself further into their touch as they begin to knead the soft mound. Then a moan trembles of your lips when fingers find your nipple through the thin fabric of your tank top and bra giving the hardened nub a sudden twist. 

The sensations halt suddenly, a little whine coming from your throat as you hear the beginnings of a belt buckle loosening. Stiorra stands directly between you and her husband now. You watch, fingers brushing over your now tender and slightly swollen lips, as Stiorra quite literally rips away the king’s shirt, hands exploring the smooth muscle of his rock solid six pack then slowly descending lower and lower till one slips down past the waist band of his boxers. 

Sigtryggr’s head hits the wall behind him with a loud clang as he groans his wife’s name. You swear you hear her smirk right before she falls to her knees in front of him. And then there it is… just as rock solid as his abs…Fuck, he’s big. The queen runs her hand up and down the length of the steel rod, stopping ever so often to brush her thumb over the tip or give a little kitten lick to the underside as Sigtryggr steps his way out of his remaining garments. Arousal pools between your legs, yearning to know what it feels like to have the king’s cock sheathed inside of you….or even just get a taste. 

And then as if she can read your mind, Stiorra pulls you down next to her. “You want a taste of my husband’s cock, don’t you?” That playful little smirk of hers that promises nothing but trouble appears again after you somehow manage to nod while picking your jaw up off the floor as she adds, “He likes it when you take him deep.” 

Sigtryggr’s fingers rake through his wife’s hair in a sweet but possessive way commanding, “You’re going to need to show her, my love.” 

His thumb then presses at the hinge of her jaw, till her mouth falls open for him. Your mouth begins to water to the point where you might be drooling as you watch the king slowly guide his member into the mouth of the queen then keeps going…and going…and going… till only an inch or so remains. 

His hips rock forward as Stiorra remains still as a statue, eagerly and easily taking her husband’s cock in her mouth like it’s the simplest gesture in the world. Even when he holds her at the deepest point for a few long seconds, she hardly flinches. And, it’s not until he pulls her off him with a swift tug of her hair that the queen makes any noise beyond the muffled garbled noises from having her husband’s dick shoved down her throat. But even looking positively wrecked from her husband throat fucking her, the queen is still as radiant as ever, now just with mussed hair, rosy cheeks, and glistening lips. 

The soft mewling sounds emanating from Stiorra quickly morph into soft purrs when Sigtryggr’s hand moves to cup his wife’s throat. Her head then flips towards you, deep brown eyes now blown an onyx color, a wicked grin plastered on her face. She reaches out to you, brushing your hair off your shoulder before wrapping her hand around your jaw. Then slowly, the queen begins to guide the king’s cock into your mouth inch by inch. 

“That’s a good girl,” she praises as her fingers brush through your hair, slowly bobbing your head up and down for you. “Just like that.” 

Tears brim your eyes as Sigtryggr fucks you, each thrust hitting the back of your throat. Your nails dig into his arse, eager to please him just as his wife had done. Though, there’s no way you can do what she did, only able to tolerate most of his length. A growl emanates from low in Sigtryggr’s throat as he pulls himself all the way out. 

Air fills your lungs, your following gasp a little too loud for your liking. But neither one of your companions seem to notice as Stiorra leans into the hand that strokes her head, gleaming like an obedient pet whose just been praised for good behavior. There’s genuine love in the way Sigtryggr looks back at her, but there’s pride there too. It’s the kind of affection you only see between two people who would stop at nothing but to give the world to one another, so unbreakable that even death would only seem to be a new beginning, like a gateway to eternity. 

With one more deep inhale and a lick of your lips, you return to the work you started, this time relying more on your tongue as you run it underneath the entirety of his length then swirl it around the tip. The milky white bead his cock weeps burns your throat slightly when you swallow it. But, you ignore the slight discomfort, desperate to please in hopes of having the ache that now throbs between your thighs quelled by one of them…or both of them…really whatever they want to do. 

A delicate hand lands on your shoulder, then tugs backwards ever so slightly, just enough that you know they’re asking you to stop. Together, the three of you migrate to the bed, where Stiorra immediately shoves her husband onto his back. The mattress has a little give to it as you crawl a top of it, preparing to take Sigtryggr’s cock again. But just as you get into position, a vice grip entraps your ankle then yanks you towards the head of the bed. 

The sound of fabric tearing fills the room for a moment, the remnants of your lace thong fluttering to the floor. Then the king’s tongue is running up and down the length of your seam. You fall forward onto your hands, a moan immediately trembling off your lips…Fuck. Never in your life could you have imagined sitting on top of one the hottest men to ever exist as he wields his tongue in ways you did not ever think were even possible and yet…here you are….

Slow teasing passes turn into more deliberate strokes, then small flicks till he’s narrowing his focus onto the small pearl at the apex of your sex. You peel your tank top off of yourself, desperate to have every inch of you touched as you ride the king’s face. When he suddenly groans against you again, likely from the way the queen continues her magic on him at the base of the bed, your walls begin to tighten as your get closer and closer to reaching your high. 

It’s all over for you once he slips two fingers inside your cunt, alternating between scissoring the two digits and thrusting them against the second most sensitive point of your womanhood. Your chest rises and falls, faster and faster as an electrifying tingle begins to spread out from your core to the tips of your toes. And when your high finally comes, you cry out the king’s name, panting as you whole body begins to tremble. 

“Seems like our lille dukke is enjoying herself,” Stiorra muses as Sigtryggr moves you beside him, all while a rush of heat stains your cheeks crimson. Had you really been that loud? 

“Do I sense a bit of jealously, my love?” The king says as his hand makes lazy sweeps over Stiorra’s thigh. 

“Only that you got to taste her first.” 

Then like a lioness on the prowl, the queen crawls on top of her husband. Now clad in only a delicate black lace full lingerie set, a singular piece probably costing more than your entire outfit, you gawk at the vixen as if she is the prey being served to you on a platter, wishing to roam your hands all over her lithe frame. Alas, it’s the king who receives that honor first. 

Your arousal still clings to Sigtryggr’s lips and barely-there stubble as Stiorra captures her husband’s lips with her own, grinding herself against him. But she does not just clean his face of you, taking her husband’s fingers still glistening from your cunt into her mouth as she sucks them clean, a motion that immediately reignites your heady need to be ravished by the two of them. 

Sigtryggr’s hands palm at Stiorra’s arse then slowly roam up over her back, the straps her bra falling forward off her shoulders from the force of the elastic snapping open. It falls to the floor as the two mates continue to relish in each other’s touch, making you start to wonder if your time with them is over.

You’d already gotten much more than you had initially expected, thinking you’d mostly be pleasuring them then the other way around. But just as you’re ready to slip away, Stiorra sets her sights on you, the breathtaking lioness cornering you like prey. 

You taste yourself on her tongue as she rids you of your bra, hands massaging your sensitive mounds. Kisses then skate down across your neck, over past your collar bone, till she takes one of your pebbled nipples into her mouth. Your back arches into her as you pull her closer, your body aching for her to unravel you. A mewling noise releases itself when a couple of her fingers slip past your folds, dipping briefly into your cunt, your whimpers only growing louder when she pulls her digits away. 

“I think someone’s ready for you, Sig.” 

Then like she’s your lady-in-waiting, Stiorra helps you straddle her husband. You whimper again as the tip of Sigtryggr’s cock slides against your slickness, then slowly slips into you. Just like the queen had guided your head when your first took Sigtryggr into your mouth, she guides your hips, lifting you up and down. Your head falls back, the fullness alone driving you mad. But, it’s when Stiorra’s singular digit begins to draw circles over the hooded bundle of nerves that you start moaning out both their names. 

Sigtryggr’s hands replace Stiorra’s in roaming your body, fingers occasionally tweaking your nipple or sliding over your pearl as you ride the king. As you surrender to the slow build, your teeth sink into your lower lip, watching the queen slip her panties off her long curvaceous legs. 

Stiorra’s thumb brushes tenderly across her husband’s forehead as she places a gentle kiss to his lips. Fuck, if you were anywhere else, you’d be getting your camera out at how adorable the two of them look. It’s the kind of love you hope to find one day, one that earns the title of the greatest love story ever written or recorded. 

A growl reverberates from deep within Sigtryggr’s chest suddenly, as his hands fly to his wife’s hips, pulling her up on top of his face just as you had been early. Stiorra hums, grinding herself down against her husband. Then her chocolate brown eyes are on you again. 

She leans forward, a wildness alight on her features as she pulls your face close to hers. The kiss she gives you sends butterflies flipping in your stomach with it’s gentleness, almost like she’s telling you that she cares about you too. Your fingers lace through her silken hair, the scent of vanilla and roses overwhelming you once more. God, you could kiss this vixen for hours. 

Then, fuck, there’s that sharp twinge of pain mixing with waves of pleasure as the Queen suckles at your pulse point. A warmth trickles down your neck, bright droplets of cherry red dripping down Stiorra’s lips onto Sigtryggr’s chest. Her grin spreads across her face when you offer her your wrist next, needing to feel that sensation over and over again. She takes it eagerly, savoring a few mouthfuls before placing your hand back over your clit where she helps you draw small quick circles. 

A loud smack sounds through the room, though Stiorra only smirks, removing herself from her husband’s face. Then Sigtryggr lifts you off of him, like your weight is equal to a feather, before positioning you onto all fours as he climbs behind you.

“You’ve been greedy tonight, my love.”

Stiorra guffaws, “You started it. Besides, she tastes sweeter than candy.” 

“Perhaps, it’s time I take a taste as well.” 

Then for a moment, your back is flush to his chest, his teeth sinking into you as he finally takes a taste. You shudder beneath his touch, head lolling back onto the king’s shoulder as he drinks from you.  Another sharp pang at your wrist sends your eyes flying open, catching the reflection of the three of you in the windows. Sigtryggr’s hands explore every inch of your naked body, kneading and massaging his way up and down. Every nerve is on fire as you stare breathlessly at the reflected image, inciting a frenzy inside of you. But, it’s when the king and queen’s blood-tinged lips meet in a messy kiss as they share the taste of you that your core goes molten. 

You cry out as Sigtryggr suddenly sheaths himself inside of you, your hands somehow managing to catch you before you face plant. His pace is faster than yours had been, hips snapping into you over and over again. Moan after moan rolls of your lips, one after another, growing louder as every thrust hits you deeply, right at the second most sensitive spot of your cunt. 

The queen moves in front of you, her legs opening up to you as she puts her womanhood on display like an invitation to the most decadent meal. You lick your lips, leaning closer and closer till your head just hovers above her center. The queen’s hand threads into your locks, gently stroking across your scalp; she wants you too. 

Your first taste of her is sweet yet salty, twinged with the same acidity you had tasted on Sigtryggr, like it’s not quite meant to be experienced by humans. You dive in anyways, your tongue swiping up and down her seam, eyes flickering back up every so often to ensure that what you’re doing pleases the queen. She keeps her hand intertwined with your hair, tingles spreading from your head to your toe as she massages your scalp. Then, Stiorra finally hums when you spread her folds to kitten lick at her nub. 

You pause suddenly, spotting Sigtryggr’s hand reaching forward as his lust-ridden voice says, “She likes it when you’re mean.” Then his fingers pinch at her pebbled nipple, twisting it in a way that can only seem a little painful, “Don’t you, my love?” 

For the first time that evening, you truly hear the queen roar with pleasure as her back arches off the mattress, chest pressing further into her husband’s palm. With your new instructions, you return to your work, eager to make the vixen purr just as her husband had done. And when your nail accidentally scrapes at Stiorra’s pearl, you begin to piece together what the king had meant for you to do. 

Alternating between sweet strokes and small nips, Stiorra begins to squirm beneath your touch as her body sings for you. All the while, your own body begins to inch closer and closer to the edge, walls beginning to flex against Sigtryggr’s cock as he continues to fuck you. Your peak comes suddenly like a wave crashing over you, your whole body clenching then releasing in the most delicious way, barely able to continue your work with the queen. 

Sigtryggr carries you through your orgasm, letting you ride out every ounce of it till you’re a breathless mess. Then with a sigh, his movements halt suddenly, “I’m close, my love.” 

Like a trained pet, Stiorra’s legs snap shut as she rolls towards her husband, gently nudging you out of the way. 

With a wink she teases, “Dont want any babies with married man do ya?”

A loud smack reverberates around the room, the bed rattling beneath you so forcibly that you think it might break, when Sigtryggr’s hand lands on his wife’s ass, a slyful smirk on his lips.

But she hardly moves, keening forward ever so slightly on to her hands as a soft moan escapes her lips. “I think you’re losing your touch,” she teases, despite her wrecked voice and onyx-blown eyes indicating otherwise. 

Sigtryggr’s teeth sink into Stiorra’s arse, then his head disappears out of sight. Your thighs press together suddenly, hoping the action might hide the way desire now pools out of you as you watch the mated pair. Only seconds pass before Stiorra’s hands fist into the sheets at your feet, her head falling forward. Her shuddered breaths fill the room, slowly growing louder like till she can no longer hold herself back, her husband’s name falling off her lips in a cry.

The shine of Stiorra’s cunt glimmers off her husband’s fingers and barely-there beard as he reemerges. Sucking his digits clean, he says “Still think I’ve lost my touch?”

When the queen arches her back, wriggling her ass at him like a mouse being dangled in front of a hungry feline, you think you might shatter right then and there, wishing to both trade places with her and be her undoing. 

Then she says, “Hmm, I think you could learn a thing or two from our lille dukke ” making a rush of heat form beneath your cheeks.  

And by the way Sigtryggr grips his wife’s hips, a way that can only be bone-crushing to a human, then buries his cock inside of her in one quick snap of his hips, you are certain she’s driving him crazy too.

The heat beneath your cheeks deepens to the point that you’re sure if you looked in a mirror right now you’d be scarlet as you watch the king fuck his queen. Sigtryggr’s hands rake into his wife’s hair as he pulls her up against his chest, hips bucking into her at a pace far quicker and harsher than he had been with you. The muscles in his forearm flex beneath his flesh as he holds it flush against the chestnut-haired queen’s waist while his other hand moves from her hair to cup her chin, tilting it up and away till he can sink his teeth right beneath her ear. His wife squirms against him, a mewling noise trembling off her lips. 

You inhale sharply, tongue running over your lips as you watch the hand around Stiorra’s neck slowly descend down through the valley between her breasts then across her stomach, only stopping once it has reached the small tiny pearl at the apex of her thighs. Your legs squeeze together even tighter, the slickness of your arousal pooling out of you making your thighs slip against each other instinctually as you try to quell the throb you feel in your cunt.  

One of Stiorra’s arms snakes up behind her husband’s head, pulling him down towards her till their noses brush. There’s a tenderness in the way she kisses him, like it’s meant to show love not passion. More importantly, it’s clear as day now that they’re done with you with the way the two mates hold each other’s gazes, lost in their love and lust for one another once more.  

Somehow you manage to will yourself to move, needing to force yourself to look anywhere else but at them before your drool drips onto the sheets. But just when you’ve swung one leg over the edge of a bed, a delicate hand wraps around your wrist, then a voice that sounds prettier than a bird song floats over your ears, “Oh, don’t think we’re finished with you just yet.” 

Stiorra falls back onto her palms like a feline, releasing the grip of your wrist in favor the ankle still on the bed. Then before you can process what she’s doing, her hands pin your knees to the mattress, putting your glistening cunt on display. 

“I think somebody wishes we were rougher with her,” the queen smirks. 

Heat flushes your cheeks again, but your bashfulness is only short-lived for the queen’s tongue licking your inner thigh clean of your slickness as she trails closer to your center has you seeing stars. Unlike her husband, she plays with you, taking her sweet time as she nibbles and flicks her tongue  anywhere but where you seek it most. A musical amused giggle tickles your flesh, causing your hips to buck a second time; the first having been when the queen suddenly sank her teeth into your thigh. 

A loud smack sounds through the air at the same time Stiorra jolts. “Play nice with our lille dukke,” Sigtryggr’s husky voice chides. 

You catch Stiorra pouting as she looks over her shoulder to her husband whose palm twitches against her ass, his pointed look promising trouble if she continues with her antics. Then with a dramatic eye roll, the queen starts to lower herself onto her forearms, as if she’s finally about to give you what you need. 

But just as you feel her warm breath against your folds, you stutter “No it’s - it’s okay. I kinda liked it.” 

Stiorra gleams brighter than a neon sign, a smile that can only promise wicked things pulling at the corners of her mouth. Then after a quick flash of her tongue at her husband, she begins to reward you for your confession. 

Kitten-licks to the small bead at the apex of your sex turn to quick tight circles as you begin to fall a part beneath the queen’s touch. You’re back arches off the silken sheets, gripping them so tightly that your knuckles turn white. The Queen’s name trembles off your lips and just when you start to see fireworks, she plunges two fingers inside of your cunt. Together with her tongue, the queen’s fingers curl and pit patter inside of you bringing you higher and higher. You begin to tremble beneath her touch, toes curling while you beg for your release till finally, every nerve explodes with pleasure as your third little death completely destroys you. 

Your body goes limp as your peak comes crashing back down, chest rising and falling at a slower and slower rate as a warm hum begins to spread throughout your limbs. Never once in your life have you felt so satiated by a sexual encounter…felt so alive. 

When you finally find the energy (and will) to push up to your elbows, you find an endearing sight in front of you. The queen has her legs wrapped around the king’s waist as her hands cradle his head, kisses swallowing each other’s sounds of pleasure. Fuck, they even make finishing together look straight out of a twisted Hallmark movie as they whisper sweet nothings to each other. They really couldn’t be any more of a perfect couple. 

Moments later, Stiorra lands on the bed next to you looking like a giddy preteen about to have her first sleepover party as she kneels at your side. You catch the towel Sigtryggr tosses your way, wiping your body as clean as a dry towel will allow as Stiorra runs hands through your hair. 

“Can we keep her? Please?” Stiorra begs, stroking your forehead like you’re a…like you’re her new doll. 

“It’s not up to us, my love.” 

Stiorra rolls her eyes at her husband again then bites her wrist and offers it to you. “It’ll help you heal faster.” 

You nod, apprehensively bringing her wrist to your mouth. A rush of warmth flows over your tongue like you’re drinking warm honey instead of blood. You whimper when the wrist disappears suddenly, depriving you of the sweet nectar, only for a larger slightly rougher wrist to replace it as Stiorra grumbles “Hey!” 

“My blood’s stronger,” Sigtryggr teases, a smacking sound presumably coming from his wife shortly following the jab. “Alright, that’s enough lille dukke. Don’t want to bleed us dry.” 

A sheepish grin tugs at the corners of your lips as Stiorra tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “Such a good lille dukke.” Then with a sigh, she pulls back the covers, “Come let’s get you to sleep.” 

You open your mouth to protest, insist that you take a cab back to your flat, only to feel the rush of exhaustion weigh down your eyelids. You have your location shared with your friends. Plus, Sigtryggr and Stiorra don’t seem to want to murder you…yet. So perhaps, staying the night isn’t the worst idea in the world. With a yawn, you slip underneath the covers where Stiorra nestles herself between you and her husband, pulling you close to her as your scalp begins to tingle from her fingers stroking through your hair. Then, only moments later you succumb to the sweetest slumber. 

The bed is empty except for yourself when your eyes flutter open the next morning. A sharp pang pierces your heart as you look around the room searching for them. You’d think it had all been dream had you not woken up in someone else’s apartment. With a mournful sigh, your toes flex against the wooden floor as you push yourself to stand then go searching for whatever remains of your clothing. And that’s when you see it - a small pile of clothes and shoes that are not yours, a paper bag, a danish pastry, and a small note written in the most elegant calligraphy you have ever laid eyes upon: 

“Our driver will take you home whenever you’re ready to leave, just let the doorman know. We hope to hear from you soon, lille dukke.” 

Then in a slightly less elegant hand-writing, an addendum: 

“PS - Keep the clothes. I have plenty. What remains of yours are in the bag.” 

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 14

chapter 25:

1. james accepting his own death will forever and always be heartbreaking

2. “Though, honestly, James had meant it when he said that he wishes it had been Regulus. Maybe it's a strange, pyschosexual thing, but he feels like he's sort of been flirting with Regulus and his daggers this entire time, so to be stabbed by him would surely have been more satisfying. Regulus would have made sure James felt it, adrenaline or not. He isn't sure why that's so attractive to him, but it really is. Maybe James is in shock. Maybe James actually does have a knife kink. Maybe James is just in love, and he wants anything he can get from Regulus, even if it's literal death.”

ik this is a big chunk of quote, but like what. james. james. james my boy. these are wild thoughts to have. also, you definitely have a knife kink, but only for regulus. not on anyone else. james. you. dear, wtf (i love you) 😀 sir.

3. god, james is so earnest on his death bed. i am also, fyi dramatically sobbing

4. shit shit shit shit no. SIRIUS!!! SOMEONE!! HELP SIRIUS! HES LOSING HIS BEST FRIEND AND HE IS NOT OKAY

5. zar is correct. it is sock-sock-shoe-shoe. that is the correct way.

6. 😀😧 regulus is troy. not the trojan horse, but instead troy. i-

7. “James is dying, and Regulus hates him. James is dying, and Regulus loves him. James is dying, and Regulus hates and loves him, because they were always one and the same.”

stop no, this is actually cruel. this is heartless. i don’t know how someone with a good conscious or loving heart could write this

8. god no shit no. i finally stopped sobbing. then there was the line about james asking reg to go to dinner with his parents because effie and monty are used to feeding two kids. i- shit. shit. no

9. HE’S TELLING REG TO TAKE BACK THE HAT??? NO THIS IS CRUEL

10. i actually want to quote this entire chapter, but i cannot do that. so therefore i would like to offer up my tears. and reg deciding there’s no point in going home if james potter wasn’t with him, because james potter was his home

11. 😐 he threw food away, but kept the handcuffs? reg dear, wtf

12. REG IS GONNA SACRIFICE HIMSELF TO LET JAMES GO HOME?? HELL NAW

13. HE CALLED JAMES BABY??? AGAIN??? (fwi i have voice recorded and sent sobbing over this fic to my irl marauders friend. hi iko!!)

14. 😟😟 oh god damn. he actually went in the crimson river. wait shit. how the hell is he gonna survive this?

15. “In his panic, in his haze of pain, it's Sirius he instinctively calls for.” 😀😀 just rip out my heart, it would be less painful

16. THE VENOM!! THE THREAT TO KILL HIMSELF IF HE DOESN’T GET REGULUS BACK!! THIS IS LITERATURE AT ITS FINEST

17. regulus is just tossed out the fucking river. they both survive. lmao this is kinda funny

18. not the symbol of the hallows being the deathly hallows. yikes.

19. i’m kinda disappointed that slughorn gets a POV cause like, that POV needs to be given to one of my faves, so they can be guaranteed to live.

20. dorcas my beloved. she’s such a bad bitch

21. okay wait, i might actually grow to like slughorn as a character. he’s being brought to the phoenix. so like, maybe he’ll be super helpful

22. LMAOOO DORCAS MY QUEEN!! “”How does it feel gamemaker? … Are you entertained?”” AHHHHHHHHH

23. unnamed woman: my guess is mcgonagal

24. after reading the authors notes, i realize we have been blessed. zar decided that reg would not die in the arena. and thank fucking god. thank god. i would not be okay if i read ahb then this. yikes

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

whats the idea? 😁

referencing this post, just so that anybody seeing this in the future won't be confused

(the entire trio just looks so fine in Deathly Hallows... like.... oh man...)

so the specific frame of DH1 that I'm talking about is Harry standing in front of the now empty Number 4 Privet Drive looking hyper depressed when the Dursleys drive off with their car full (because them getting the fuck out of dodge has truly set in how serious and deadly everything is) - and then he has that little emo mope around the empty house where he looks in the cupboard and stuff and realizes how truly small it is compared to how large it used to feel to him

an idea hit me of Y/N coming to visit Harry at the house after the Dursleys leave, before the rest of the Order shows up to transport Harry, when Harry is just being so emo (like to me, something about moody emo Harry is just so fuckable. I love emotional men) (also for context in my head, the reader character and Harry would be friends but not previously romantic, long time pining, but they have not so much as kissed before) - and Harry is ranting about how the weight of the world is on his shoulders and everyone expects him to kill Voldemort, but he feels like it's something he might not be able to do - what if he can't do it? what if he fails?

and he is just swimming in angst, and then she kisses him hard on the mouth, and she's like "I can't give you all the answers, but I can distract you from your problems right now" and Harry feels so much for her (he has had a crush on her for a long time that he has hidden down and repressed because he has had so many other things to deal with), and he knows that getting emotionally attached and more emotionally involved with someone (someone else he could be more hurt by losing) is a bad idea. but he's like 'fuck it. I deserve something good. I deserve five minutes of something nice - five minutes of forgetting about all my problems' (and fyi, I do think that Harry can last more than five minutes)

and so they fuck in the middle of the empty living room floor

and it's also a huge wonderful oxymoron because Harry has experienced so much suffering in that house, and right before he's about to leave it forever, he makes one good memory there. but he and Y/N also don't get to really continue their relationship in any meaningful way (aside from maybe one dance at Bill and Fleur's wedding) before he has to leave with Ron and Hermione to take care of the Horcruxes, and then he has to worry about her being in constant danger while he's gone, not knowing if she's safe or not (or, looking at her on the Marauder's map if she went back to Hogwarts)

I have just grown to have such an appreciation for Harry as a character and a love interest in recent years. it helps that I have recently grown more attracted to Daniel Radcliffe, especially because of properties like Horns (and if I write Ig Parissh smut, then don't judge me, Daniel Radcliffe is really hot in that movie)

is it a good idea? should I add it to my drafts??

[according2thelore]

i just want to say its insane that this is the best blog AND the best ao3 account. unfair. also i scrolled here forever and came across that art of priest sam and now i'm thinking about what if sam ran off to join the priesthood if he didn't get into stanford...... i don't even know if that's a thing in the 21st century but omg.... dean breaking into a church rectory to steal him back from god....... calling him father to be a dick but also bc...

HOLY SHIT????

um--thank you so much??? omg??? i'm crying?

the best is crazy, considering there are so many incredibly talented and hilarious bloggers that make up our community, and i'm so glad to be part of them! thank you!!!!!! i'm so honoured you like our blog and my fanfic!!! that means the world!!!!! <3 charlotte also says thank you sm!

and yes! priest!sam makes me bark like a fucking dog bc it makes sense! sam, at college, tormented by visions and unsure why walking past the stanford memorial church in the middle of the quad makes his feet burn.

whenever he blesses himself with holy water, it leaves faint red marks on his forehead for the rest of the day that he covers with his bangs. salt really seasons his food, and he can immediately tell if someone put it on his meal.

and he loves jess--he does, so much it hurts--but he can't live like this, not anymore. he applies to seminary school (you have to be at least twenty-five (or twenty-four if you get it waived) to become a priest but let's ignore that for now!) and only gets in because his local priest advocates for him to the diocese. for some reason, his application keeps getting lost, no matter how many times he turns it in. it just vanishes.

he doesn't know that what's inside of him is evil, yet, but he remembers looking at dean sometimes and having to look away because dean seemed bright, physically bright, and it hurt his eyes. he thought it was misplaced lust, that burning in his skin, but remembers that painting of galahad, of glorious light and purpose and purity and knows that he wants that.

he feels it, when he undergoes orders, the burning in his blood, his weak knees as he kneels on marble, like he's going to be sick, and he's overjoyed, because that must mean that he's being cleansed of every unholy thought, every unholy cell in his body. the holy oil they smear on his hands moves on its own into circles on his palms, quarter-sized dots that sizzle.

sam tucks his fingers into his palms and pretends that he can't see the similar wounds on the crucifix, the stigmata that are a garish red on christ turning into silver scars on sam's hands, scars that ache or burn when he cleans the holy vessels or touches the sacrament.

he gets assigned to the smallest church in the diocese. he's happy enough, and finds peace in the quiet, in connecting with the people in the parish and the spartan way of life--no distractions, no decorations, just a purpose, a holy purpose. he gets restless sometimes, the lack of mental stimulation driving him crazy, so he prays to god to remove this weakness in him. he prays to god when he sweeps the floor and when he organizes the soup kitchen donations and when he brushes his teeth.

he's closing up one night when he sees a man in one of the pews in the darkened sanctuary. he approaches slowly, and asks softly, 'can i help you?'

and the man doesn't turn around, when he says, 'i had a brother, once.' and sam fucking freezes in his steps because he dreams about this voice sometimes, dreams of this man's hands on him and knows that his job isn't done yet, know that he's not cleansed of all the rot inside of himself, because this man remains.

and dean's smile is liquid and oily when he turns around, and says, 'but now our family's got two fathers.'

and sam's lost, the second he looks into dean's eyes, the exact shade forgotten until this moment, and sam's feet ache in his shoes like they always do on church grounds--on hallowed ground--, and dean fucking glows, and sam can see the shadows he casts, and sam's eyes burn.

one of them is holy, one of them is approved by god.

and it's never been sam. it never will be.

god doesn't want him.

but dean does. dean always does.

goddamn this ran away with me. do i need to write a priest!sam fic?? much to think about. thank you for this lovely ask anon!!!! and thank you again for your kind words!!!!!! <3

happy wincest wednesday!

-lizzy

[bookwormangie]

Understanding Snape and his character

I've been knee-deep in the Snape debate lately, and I’ve got some thoughts I need to lay out. Snape undeniably did some awful things as an adult, and he’s aware of that—he holds himself accountable and we should too. But his story isn’t just a straightforward tale of good versus evil.

Thinking about Snape, especially after diving into his memories in Deathly Hallows, it’s evident he was trying to make up for his past. When Snape begged Dumbledore to protect Lily and the Potters, it wasn't just a plea for safety—it was a glimpse into his desire for redemption and his need to atone because he knew he fucked up by relaying the prophecy. Dumbledore saw potential in him, not just as a spy, but as someone capable of change and redemption. Lily, the person he loves, being in danger and later dying, saved Snape and forced him to change. She was the catalyst for Snape's redemption arc and that's literally the whole point.

Then there’s Snape’s upbringing—a life marred by abuse at home and relentless bullying at school. That kind of trauma leaves deep scars; it molded Snape into a bitter and vindictive person. I can’t help but sympathize with him. He wasn’t born an asshole; circumstances shaped him that way. His journey from an abused home life to a bullied youth, to a Death Eater, and eventually to an antihero is a stark reminder of the complexities of human nature. It frustrates me to no end that people shower sympathy on abused characters like Harry, who turned out kind, yet refuse to extend the same empathy to Snape, who emerged bitter and vindictive—something so painfully realistic. Their situations were fundamentally different; Harry had a whole support system and was rich as fuck, but Snape had none and was living in poverty. Comparing them is unfair and misses the point entirely.

So when I see debates reducing Snape to a mere villain or hero, good or evil, I can’t help but feel we’re oversimplifying a deeply layered character. You can dislike Snape all you want, but painting him out to be something he's not, simplifying his character, and completely shitting on him is such an insult and a wrong interpretation of who he truly is. Snape’s morally grey journey through darkness and redemption is a testament to human struggle and growth. To truly understand Snape is to grasp his tumultuous path and his relentless quest to reconcile his actions with his conscience—a journey that resonates with the complexities of real life.