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#strand vampire au
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I’ve been pulling from the Bram Stoker lore in regards to the vampire abilities Cyrus and co. exhibit, and one of those abilities was turning into a massive wolf so here’s a stab at Wolf Cyrus 🐺 I liked the inverted version of the line art a lot too, so included that as well!
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konnestrasketch · 1 year
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Vampire-Heartman just .... floats while he's dead, creeping everyone out.
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stranded-ziggy · 1 year
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Sam Bridges || Vampire AU
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baronvonriktenstein · 4 months
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Been a while
I love these things.
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tarlos-spain · 2 years
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Chapter 12
Tk was still asleep when Carlos received Owen's message.
"We need to talk."
He figured as much, and it didn't surprise him that the captain would be protective of his son when he had just found out he was engaged to a vampire.
Perhaps that very thing, being in a relationship with a vampire, was ending the commitment of marriage.
He made sure TK slept, as much as he said he was fine, he was still exhausted after all the blood lost to feed Carlos. He stroked his cheek and TK smiled. It was enough to make him feel able to leave the room when he heard the loft door open.
Owen set down a few things he had brought in for TK, food and plenty of liquid and turned around as he sensed Carlos' presence.
"How is he?"
"He's spent most of the day sleeping...still sleeping."
Owen nodded. "You got my message didn't you?"
"I was wondering how long it would take you to get here."
Carlos smiled trying to take some of the tension out of the moment, but he had rarely seen Owen look at him so seriously. Not even when TK and he were still nothing and he was trying to get to know Owen had he noticed him being so dry with him.
"I'm going to get right to the point." Owen said as the two sat down on the couch. I know you adore my son, I know you would give your life for TK." Carlos nodded. "And I know, perfectly, that you would never hurt TK in this new situation. I must say, I'm still a little shocked to learn that I've always been right about vampires."
Carlos's eyes widened ready to ask what he was talking about, but their concern for TK was far more important.
"I promise you that TK is the most important thing I have in this world and I will protect him from any danger that is put in front of him."
"Including you?"
Carlos noticed the pang in his heart, but he understood the question perfectly.
"If necessary."
"We both know that TK will never let you escape, no matter how much he knows you are dangerous, nor will you walk away. That's why I want you to promise me one thing and I don't care what I tell you or beg you. Don't ever use TK to feed you again, no matter how much of an emergency it is."
Carlos nodded, that was the same decision he had made for himself, even if he hadn't told him anything. He would rather die of starvation than feed on TK again.
Owen stood silently waiting for his answer.
"I promise you, I promise you that nothing like this will ever happen again."
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ahmoseinarus · 1 year
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The Price
Whumptober 2023 Day 10 Broken Phone | Stranded | "You said you'd never leave." Mind the tags! The Price - Ahmose_Inarus - Critical Role (Web Series) [Archive of Our Own]
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screampied · 3 months
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Small itty bitty req 😽😽😽 Vampire! Gojo who cums just from drinking her blood..? 🤕🤕🤕😸
vamp gojo getting a taste for the first time ★
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◜ ❦◞ — warnings. fem! reader, vampire au / gojo, mentions of blōod, touch starved gojo, spıt, cowgirl, praise, premature ejaculatıon, biting, mdni.
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you were one of his many weaknesses—disregarding the plethora of other vampire known things such as sunlight, garlic, or even stakes. you and your taste alone was enough to bring him to his knees. gojo’s entire body feels scorchingly hot the moment you cream down his cock. he’s still twitching from the inside, gentle honed claws piercing into your skin. “p- please,” he’d pant, pointed tips of his ears burning more and more tepid. a lukewarm breeze sets against his skin before he conceals his face into your neck. “m- my precious little . . human,” and you moan the moment his long, forked tongue licks a stripe near your neck. “i want more of you. please.”
there was a bit of a tremor in his voice - shaky. the more stripes he licked up your neck, the more he became addicted. the vampire’s cock was embed into you, feeling the sheer snug and warmth near the inside before his eyes roll back. with irregular breaths yanking from his lungs, he looks at you, a gentle nail scraping near your neck before he pouts. “can .. can i?”
he wants a taste,
as you’re taking your seat on his lap, it didn’t take you long to realize what he meant. gojo wanted to feed off of you. two broad hands of his grab onto your waist, pulling you close. body against body, skin against skin—your warmth was the only thing that made him pulse.
funnily enough, it’s known vampires don’t even have a pulsing heart, and yet you made him feel alive. it’s ironic.
his dick was still plugged into your gripping, gluey walls before you give him a sweet reply. “go ‘head toru, baby. get a taste.”
your voice,
it was such a treat to listen to, almost harmonic.
the way you spoke in such a pretty tune was enough to have him dump another load into you. and then another, then another.
the vampire lets off a needy moan at your answer, not hesitating to incise his chiseled, sharp fangs into the crook of your neck.
“mhm,” he whines, and you feel a bit of slippery saliva trickle its way near the edge of your neck. you were so tasty that it was enough to make him drool. as gojo licks it up, you hear a long sluuuurp and he’s making sure to savor your metallic taste. to him, you taste like candy.
and already,
he’s addicted. his tongue whisks itself against the growing bite marks and he whines again. pretty frosted lashes of his flutter as he’s relishing in your flavor. needless to say, you were simply drool worthy. “my s- sweet girl, hah, taste even better than i imagined.”
you stay still, remaining to sit on his lap. the base of his cock squishes down a bit the more your ass grinds against the weight. he groans, and the body heat that’s sticking against the two of you grows more heated. as he’s feeding, you can hear a little growl escape from his lips once you playfully try to move away. “mine, s- stay,” he grumbles, making sure to not suck away too much blood. the vampire was well aware of the precautions and didn’t wanna leave you too weak or lightheaded, regardless of how sweet you tasted. “hngh, ‘s good. ‘m gonna c- cum i think.”
“s- satoruuu,” you breathe, taking a moment to swallow and the only thing you ended of gulping down was your sweet, sweet pity.
you felt your cunt start to spasm sporadically, one hand gently wrapping around his throat as he’s collecting more of a taste. “thaaaat’s it, ‘s good. good boy, suck harder baby.”
a snowy wisp of a strand runs down his forehead before he pouts — pointed ears twitching at your praise.
good boy . .
a whine rips from his throat again, and already he can feel himself starting to thrust against you. sloppy thrusts but you still felt every inch rut its way into you. he was so eager, so feral. he couldn’t help it, if you kept teasing him this much he was going to stuff you full.
again, and again, and again.
“oh, you like when i call you that?” you peer up at the vampire, watching as he momentarily breaks away his lips from your neck. a cute fang of his pokes out underneath his bottom lip and there’s metaphoric heart eyes shimmering in his blown irises.
“y- yes,” he nods, a slight crack in his tone as you’re still happily straddling him. gojo’s face flushes deeply and a sharp gasp shortly follows. “ngh, say it again, please.”
leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose, his eyes ultimately widen into the size of saucers. “good boy, ‘toru.”
“f- fuck, woman,” he snarls under his breath, your touch alone able enough to harm him more than pungent garlic ever could.
gojo can’t help but crane your neck slightly to the right again with one hand. he moves it back to it’s original position before sinking his fangs into your neck again. once more, he feels the prodigious tang of saltiness coat against his forbidden buds that run against his tongue. you moan, tossing your head back in pleasure before feeling him starting to sniff you.
as if your taste wasn’t enough - your scent was just brutal.
you giggle at bit at the sensation of him getting off to your naturally sweet aroma. his dick was growing more aroused. its twitching multiplies and you feel every movement from the inside of your stingy walls. gojo’s whining gets louder, and before he knew it, the crown of his cock starts to vigorously thrash and thrash against your cunt. your walls were being greedy, you were barely even moving and yet, your gummy walls continue to hug him tight, never letting go.
because in the end, you didn’t wanna let go,
not now, not ever.
“c- cum, ‘m gonna cum,” he huffs, soft warm lips ghosting against the new bite marks that tattoo against your skin. he stares at his gift to you with the most lewd expression, eyes half lidded and all. feeling himself get more sheepish as each second passed, he whimpers. “i- oh, really gonna make me—”
and it’s a long pause.
it’s almost too long, radio silence and yet it was deadly. right before you could utter out a word, you feel a spurt of hotness ooze its way into your pussy. it’s slow and it’s slimy, coming out in thin velvety ropes. so much to where you feel it shoot into the very depths of your womb. gojo’s a mess, his whimpers reaching higher pitched volumes before he buries his face into your neck again.
shame overtook him—sharp nails of his gently graze against your hips as he’s holding you close, a milky ring around his base shortly painting around his fat base.
whenever he came, it was a lot. piles and piles of it, you weren’t even moving a muscle and you had him this weak. the finish came to him like a truck at full force, it was a constant ringing in his ears.
your hips buck and he grows quiet— his favorite part, listening to the final finishes. ripples of rapture overtake his body as he’s pouring his all into you, and he takes a moment to suck against your neck once more. your cunt squelched and his seed made sounds similar of its own. you mewl out a sweet sob, feeling his tongue flick against the few remnants of blood that were left near your neck before he sighs deeply.
not only was he pussy drunk but he was perhaps he was in love.
“i- i—” he murmurs, still having his face buried deep into your collarbone. gojo didn’t want you to move, he wanted you to stay. “more.”
“more what, ‘toru?” you whisper, still feeling him dump such a heavy amount of cum into you as if it was nothing. it was sticky, gluing against the entrance of your pussy as if it was some kind of adhesive. it was a mess— you were filled, a few strings of cum gluing against your opening, you feel the warmth coat against the outside and the inside. you gingerly pull his head up to look at you and the vampire leans into your gentle, familiar touch. “mm?”
“more of you,” he grumbles, and you let off a gasp once he makes you lie back, spreading your legs.
the vampire strums a soft padded thumb against your pulsating clit that had wads of cum spilling out in nice clumps before he leans down. gojo groans, lapping his own flavor up with his tongue before flickering his pretty cerulean eyes back up at you. giving your pussy a kiss, crooked sly smile forming on his reddened glossed lips. “not done, wanna bite her next.”
and you gulp, chest heaving in and out— you leer down at gojo and realize he was staring straight at your sopping wet cunt.
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gojonanami · 5 months
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❝ 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄 !! ❞
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❝ WHEN YOUR HOT COWORKER WANTS TO SUCK YOUR BLOOD, OF COURSE YOU'LL SAY YES !! ❞
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✧ pairing: vampire! choso kamo x f!reader
✧ summary: choso kamo is your coworker who seems to hate your guts - even though you're both always stuck working together, but the only reason he does is because he wants nothing more than to eat you up -- blood and all.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, modern au, coworkers to lovers, vampire!choso, vampire bites are an aphrodisiac for both the vampire and the victim, no real dub/con b/c these two are already down bad for the other, mutual pining, scent kink, blood kink, blood sucking from neck / wrist, implied masturbation (m!), oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, implied multiple rounds, swearing, fanart by @ / yume041624
✧ wc: 7,193
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It wasn’t as if you weren’t sure your coworker hates you—
 You were sure of it. 
He avoided you like the plague whenever the two of you were working on the same project. He always did his best to reply over email, avoid in person meetings, and he always seemed to get sick whenever the two of you had to greet the client together. But you didn’t know why — you hadn’t done anything to offend him, unless he had mistaken your hello for spitting in his face. And that wasn’t even the worst part. 
The worst part was that he was exactly your type — fucking hot. 
Dark locks tied into a bun with a few strands escaped its binding by the end of the day, his neat nails painted a dark purple that rifled through paperwork, his pretty lips pursed in concentration, and lovely, deep eyes that barely had stolen a glance at you but you could spend a millennia exploring—
In summary, you had it bad. 
And he didn’t seem to know — or worse, he knew and he hated it. Or you. 
But maybe something could change today, you flicked a pen up and down between two fingers as you stole a glance at him across the now empty office, the two of you were stuck working overtime on this project for two days now. But he still had managed to avoid you — but not today when you were stuck in the same conference room sorting through boxes of files that your client insisted must be done today. 
You were getting some sleep at a hotel across the street, taking a quick nap and shower before returning, but Choso looked like he hadn’t slept in days. And you didn’t know why. 
You glanced up at him between sorting through boxes, and you saw him adjust his collar, loosening his tie, fabric gripped tightly under white knuckles. His head was hunched over, his expression hidden behind the box in front of him, but you saw a hint of red in his eyes. You bit your lip, now you were worried. 
Maybe for the wrong reasons. 
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“Choso, are you okay?” 
No, no, he wasn’t okay. He wasn’t okay after working overtime for two days straight. He wasn’t okay being stuck in this tiny, dimly fluorescent lit conference room reviewing files that would only prove fruitless and a waste of time for all parties, and what made it worse was you—
No, not you, his canines grew, sharp fangs digging into the soft flesh of his bottom lips, 
Blood. 
Your blood. 
The very thing running through your veins and arteries, pumping through every crevice of your body through your heart — crimson stained your insides as it would your skin if pierced or cut — and it was the very thing that Choso wanted more than anything else. 
But no, it couldn’t be anyone else’s — he bit his bottom lip as you stretched, your blouse and hair moving ever so slightly and exposing your neck — it had to be yours. 
He pressed his hand against his face, palm covering the bottom half of his face as he forced himself to avert his gaze from you, all too unaware of his thirst — the very same that pulled his muscles taut and made his mouth water at the thought of you. His face was flushed — that much was for sure, as he felt the heat radiate from his face. 
And he knew one thing for sure — that you were the one who’s blood would taste like the divine personified. But that’s why he had worked so hard to avoid you, to make sure he didn’t spend any time alone with you, lest his logic and sense fail him at once and he ends up with his fangs pressed to the nape of your neck at once. 
No, he had decided he couldn’t do that. There were far too many times he had seen other vampires find partners this way — succumb to the urge — the draw of bloodlust — only for their partner to grow addicted to the pleasure that comes from the bite, and the relationship only fell apart when it was the only thing holding the relationship together. The bite could only do so much, it was an aphrodisiac for both parties, but not a miracle worker — chemistry burns bright and fast, but it could not make love exist if it wasn’t there to begin with. 
And his avoidance of you had made any relationship between the two of you hard to happen — especially when every word you spoke sounded sweet and honeyed from those pretty lips. It didn’t help that he was reserved to begin with, but you made all words fall from his mind with only a glance — so what would a conversation do to him — much less a kiss? 
“Choso, have you reviewed this one yet?” You ask, grabbing a box from his side, “I finished my half so I thought I’d help you finish yours,” 
He shakes his head, “Go ahead. Thank you,” he barely manages through nearly gritted teeth, with barely a glance up — fuck, it didn’t help that you were always so kind, good at your job, and so pretty—
Fuck, the document he held crumpled under his tight grip, he shouldn’t have let it get this bad. Why had he let it get this bad? A few overtime shifts weren’t usually a problem for him — but being stuck with you? It was torture in the highest order — especially since he hadn’t been able to get home to his reserves at home and he had just run dry of the bottles he kept on himself this morning. 
He sees you stretch again, this time your neck, and a heat began to creep on as he watched right over the top of the document he read. 
Oh, he was so fucked. 
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You were going to ask him. 
You were going to confront him about why he avoids you. You had made up your mind — you were tired of walking on eggshells without a reason. If you were going to be stuck working with him on future projects, especially with this client, he needed to tell you if this was how it was going to be. 
And yet, you still sat, rereading the same document over and over, as the two of you were almost done wrapping up your work for the night. Choso was placing the last box he finished up away, a sigh stuck in his throat as he got to his feet. 
“I’m going to head home,” he gets to his feet, a sigh on his lips, as he rakes his fingers through his black locks, “do you need help cleaning up?” 
“No, I’m fine,” and he’s grabbing his things, as you bite your lip and stare at the shiny laminate of the conference table in front of you — fuck it, “I did have a question,” as he’s walking by in the doorway of the conference room, as your scramble to your feet, reaching for him, your fingers brushing his shoulder by mistake, and he’s tensing, “sorry, I didn’t mean—“ 
“It’s fine, what’s your question?” His reply is curt but he won’t even turn to face you, his fingers fiddling with the watch on his wrist. You furrow your brow, was it you or was his body shaking? 
“I just wanted to ask you if you had some sort of problem—“ and then his bag clattered against the floor, contents spilling out, as he supported himself against the door frame, slumped against it, as his fingers gripped it. 
You gasped, a quick brush of your fingers to his shoulder again, “Are you ok? Choso?” 
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Choso’s head swam — he could barely hear anything — every sound drawn out and garbled, as if he had plunged his head underwater and words were echoing in his ears. He felt his knees buckle under his weight — and he can’t think straight — and for a moment of clarity he realizes why—
Your touch — it was a spark amongst a field of wheat in a dry heat — and it was enough to set his entire body alight. And now—as he barely held himself together, muscles tensed and eyes fluttering — a haze of heat blazing ribbons up his body, and down — right to his cock. 
Fuck. He’s swallowing, his muscles taut, as he tugs at his collar, even the brush of his clothes against his skin enough to drive him to the point of insanity. And it doesn’t help that your scent fills his nose, honeyed and cloying and he squeezes his eyes shut, knowing the scarlet gaze would do nothing but elicit a scream. 
“Please leave,” he says through gritted teeth, he can imagine the concern written across your expression, “go—“ 
“I’m not leaving you like this alone,” fuck, you only draw closer, the brush of your fingers against his shoulder enough to have him nearly keening for your touch — he’d nearly do anything you want for one touch, one drop of your blood, but he can’t — he can’t, “do you need water? What do you need?” And you’re helping him sit down on the floor of the conference room, as he clutches his bag to his front, desperate for something put between the two of you. 
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you what I needed, just go,” he’s pleading, head falling back against the wall — his mind is hazy, he can barely think about anything else but you — the way your soft lips are pursed in worry, the way your hands are so gentle against his skin and would feel so good gliding across his body, the way when he saw the multitudes contained within your eyes, but he only wanted to live in the warmth of your loving gaze, “I don’t want to hurt you,” 
The words come as a confession, a last plea for you to leave, but you seemingly only chuckle, furrowing your brow, “how could you hurt me when you’re more terrified than I am?” 
And oh you were so ignorant that you were inches away from a monster — a rabbit in a lion’s den, while you thought of him as a sheep — and his words weren’t enough to convince you, but maybe something else would. 
His eyes flutter open to find your own, and he finds his own reflection in your irises — a blood red reflected back in your lovely gaze, as your mouth falls open, brow wrinkled, and breath caught. 
“I-I-what?” and he sees your confusion written across your face, your fingers shaking as they brush against his cheek. Your touch sets his senses alight, a soft groan as he leans into your hand, his nose brushes against your wrist, and the thrum of your pulse ringing in his ears. His gaze finds yours — half moonshine with how it’s glazed over, “how?” 
And his lips part, when your thumb drags down his cheek, hypnotized and entranced under a spell he didn’t mean to cast. He turns his head so your fingers catch on his lips, parting almost obediently, flashing fangs that has a flicker of confusion swallowed by horror and then consumed by fascination completely. 
“Choso, what is—“ 
“You should go,” he murmurs again, “you can’t give me what you need,” 
And you’re speechless, as if you wonder if you’re seeing what you are — but the longer you stare, the quicker it seems to sink in. You swallow. 
“So you need my—“ and the sentence is cut off seemingly by the absurdity of the situation, as you mutter to yourself, “this can’t be fucking real,” 
“It doesn’t have to be, you can leave right now,” he pants, sweat slipping down his forehead, and you’re still frowning. 
“What will happen to you if I leave?” And he can’t think straight enough to lie, your fingers find his neck, to check his temperature but all it does is drive it higher. 
“Nothing you need to worry about—“ 
“Well, I am worried,” you cut him off, squirming in place, “if you just take some of my blood, will that—“ 
“It’s not just that,” he’s shaking his head, fangs nearly grazing his bottom lip as he sighs, “do you know what your blood will do to me?” His eyes seem to flash, a chill down your spine, “but more importantly worry what it will do to you,” 
And you stiffen, the spell waxing and waning as fickle as the moon never was, and that the thing about humans — you could never count on them to be consistent as all other things were. A beast can be predicted — their moves largely the same, caution put before hurt, but man gained consciousness and lost all reliability. 
And you were no beast, not like him. 
“What would…it do?” Your words are hesitant, carefully chosen, small jumps across stones rather than a leap across a rushing river. 
And he lets the raging white water brush against your skin when his hand cups your chin, leaning closer and letting his breath warm your skin, “To reduce the pain, my bite is like an aphrodisiac,” his thumb rubs back and forth across your cheek, “you won’t be able to stop yourself, and since your blood would do the same to me — I wouldn’t be able to help myself either,” his nose brushes against your cheek, as he leans in to whisper in your ear, “you should go.” 
But you don’t, silence settles over the two of you, until you choose to break it,  “I’m not going anywhere without you.” 
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That’s what you had said — but how did that land you here? 
You both walked to your hotel room in silence, his flushed face hidden behind a mask, dead on his feet as he trailed behind you to the room. It was lucky you had a room right across the street from your workplace. You didn’t know what you would have done if you had to stay in the office — the blood would have been hell to scrub off the wood. 
And now here you sat after your shower, hair still damp as you toyed with the edge of your fluffy bathrobe, as you chewed on your lip. What had you gotten yourself into? You listened to his shower run, a sigh on your lips — it was fine. It would be fine. You just stick to the plan. You’d let him drink your blood, and he would lock himself in the bathroom — and you both would ride out your…symptoms alone. 
Fuck, you bury your face in your hands, what the hell are you doing? And that’s when the water stops — the quiet rustle and shuffling of himself in the bathroom makes your heart leap into your throat, as you sit looking down at the floor. 
“Are you okay?” his voice makes you jump even as you expect it, as your head snaps back to look at him. His black hair still wet from his shoulder, long locks clinging to his hair, droplets ran down his bare abs, your eyes following one down right to his happy trail only hidden away by his boxers— 
Fuck. 
He only continues to towel himself off, before grabbing his undershirt to pull it over his torso, as you choose to avert your eyes then — as if him getting dressed was any more scandalous than his shirtless state, “I am, I’m just a little—“ 
“You don’t have to,” and your eyes slide back to him, his face was still significantly ragged, dark bags and fatigue  clung to body worse than the water did — looking more like a corpse than a bloodsucker, “it’s not too late for you to leave—“ 
“No I decided I was going to help, so I’m going to,” you say, and his brow forms the same peaks and valleys he had all day — and you were sure his skin would remember the carvings at this rate, “what?”
“Why do you want to help me?” he mumbles, arms crossed, a distinct flush in his cheeks settling that surely wasn’t just from his shower, “I don’t get it, we barely have spoken—“ 
“We have spoken, our first week,” and his eyes snap to yours, “you may not remember, but you helped me,” and your cheeks burned, squirming in place as you couldn’t quite meet his gaze, “I had messed up on a project, I made a huge mistake on a document, one that could have costed the company a lot of money, and my job,” you murmur, “but you also took responsibility, even though it wasn’t your fault,” 
“I didn’t catch the mistake either, so it was my fault too—“ and you shake your head. 
“It was mostly mine still,” you offer a small smile, “and so if I can help you like this, I want to,” you shift, swallowing as an awkward silence falls over you both that you break, “why did you want to shower first anyway? You were ready to pass out earlier,” 
“I still am,” he admits, and you notice the subtle shake of his hands, “but I figured the shower would make us both feel a little more comfortable, and it helped to…calm me down,” he cleared his throat, and it slowly dawned on you, cheeks burning, “again, are you sure—“
“I’m going to close you off in the bathroom, and we should be able to ride it out — you said you don’t lose control of yourself or become violent,” and he shakes his head, “then it should be fine,” you have him draw closer, his soft steps against the plush carpet fell silent as he sat beside you on the bed. The creak of the bed as he sat on the other side a little awkwardly, “you should be closer,” and he’s nodding, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat. 
“I know, I’m just trying to…prepare,” he gives a shaky sigh, “your scent is—“ he scrubs a hand down his face, “it’s hard for me to be around, especially when we’re so close,” 
“My scent?” And his hand covers the bottom half of his face, turned away, as he murmurs. 
“Your scent is particularly strong — it’s…enticing enough for me to be distracted all day if I don't keep my distance,” and the pieces sink into place. 
“You avoided me at work because of that?” And he nods, as you bite your lip, a small chuckle on your lips, “I thought you hated me,” 
And his head snaps to you, blinking, “I don’t hate you far from it—“ he cuts himself off, his fingers grip the edge of the bed, “I’ve seen you in the office — you’re always so considerate, kind, and you always try to help, even people who don’t deserve it—“ he cuts off, “I don’t want to take advantage of your—“ 
You move closer, his breath hitching as you shrug your robe off your shoulders, leaving only your bra covering your chest, “You do deserve it,” Fuck, he was so close — you could feel the need come off of him in waves, the soft pants of his breath as his eyes fluttered. And you offer your neck to him, brushing your hair away — a silent offer. 
You see him bite his lip out of your periphery, but he’s leaning down, warm breath fans across your skin, as he ran a finger down your neck, “Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice a raspy whisper, “you smell so good,” and you nearly shiver as his lips brush your skin — soft lips against your skin, the barest brush, as if he’s trying to acclimate you to his touch. But it only stoked a fire — the same flame burning even before today, the one that wanted more than a bite at the apple — you wanted him down to his core. 
His lips press another kiss to your neck, lingering longer, as he noses the skin there, and you’re biting your lip, the want bubbling into boiling need, “Please—“ you gasp as his fangs graze your neck now, the sharp points lightly dragging across the muscle, right before his fangs sink into your neck. 
Your lips part, head nearly lolling back into his warm palm cupping the nape of your neck. Any pain only registers for a split second before disappearing under whitehot pleasure. Your blood turns to heady wine straight from his bite, his muffled moan vibrates against you, sending a wave of heat right between your thighs. Your head spins, all logic melts with as the wildfire only consumes — leaving only want behind. 
Coherent thoughts don’t form — instead fractured thoughts spiral into a chant. You want more. You want more of his touch, his body, his words. You want him. 
You want him. 
And when he’s pulling his fangs from your neck, the sound of his teeth pulled from your skin only rings in your ears for a moment, before blood roaring in your ears replaces it. Burning — it felt as if every part of your body was aching, a deep throbbing with no end in sight. You glance at Choso — and only one cure. 
Fuck, his skin looks so lovely when flushed a pretty pink — nearly a scarlet that lit a trail up his neck and across his cheekbones all the way to his ears. The heavy pants that left his lips did little to assuage the desire for him — his defined chest rising and falling with each breath he took, his long jet black locks hanging like a curtain around his gaze. 
Your fingers are reaching for him, “Cho—“ and he’s shaking his head, as his muscles tense, as he leans away from you. 
“Give me a moment,” so you do — you pull back, and he’s rising to his feet, shaky still, but seemingly for a different reason as he turns and flashes the rising tent in his boxers. 
And you press your thighs together, wondering just how big he was — eyes fixed on the growing damp spot on his boxers — how he would shiver when you squee3/ him at the base in your hand, what sounds he would make when you’d flick your tongue against his weeping tip, and how he would moan your name when he sunk into you— 
You were so fucked — if your drenched panties were anything to judge by. 
“Choso, please—“ and he already knows what you’re asking for between the lines of your plea, and his eyes find yours, his dark gaze catches yours, ensnared in the blackhole that only pulls you under and apart, pinned underneath him. 
“It’s just the bite, we can’t,” he’s covering his lips, as he takes steps away from you, towards the bathroom, “we just have to wait until it passes. It won’t take too long—” 
“What if it’s not just your bite? Not for me,” you murmur, and the words are being spilled from your lips like honeyed truth with no bitter aftertaste, “it hasn’t been for me,” his brow is furrowing as if he can’t imagine a single person liking him, “I’ve spent the last year working with you and all i know is I wanted nothing more than to be the one you smile at — the same soft way you do when you your little brother visits you at work,” 
And he’s swallowing, a deeper blush on his cheeks, “you noticed?” 
“I also noticed how you always bring the person you work with their favorite coffee order, the way you try to make others feel valued when the company doesn’t even do it, and how you always do your best — even when it comes at your own expense,” it’s so easy to say these things, but it only makes you long for him more, “let me do more — let me take care of you—“ 
And he’s covering his mouth with his forearm, “do you know what you’re saying?” you slowly get up from the bed, taking careful steps towards him, “our heads are clouded, we aren’t—“ and he swears under his breath but he doesn’t resist your approach, the bathroom door right behind him, “I don’t want to hurt you—“ 
“Do you feel the same for me?” and his gaze softens as he meets yours, “because I get the feeling you do — at least you like my scent,” a smile tugs at the corner of your mouth, “hopefully not just my scent?” 
And you didn’t know it was possible for a vampire to be this pink in the face, but Choso was — and you weren’t sure if it was your words or your closeness, “It’s not just your scent,” he’s mumbling against his arm until he’s pulling it away, to reveal his lips colored a faint scarlet from your blood, “I have feelings for you — I have for a while,” 
God, he was fun to tease, “What’s a while?” you’re murmuring, his lips part, flashing his fangs while he does. His eyes avert from your face, only to land on your neck, grazing over the bite mark he left, and you decide to spare him, “but if it’s been a while for you and for me, then—” he’s shivering again, a sigh caught in his throat, muscles tensed as if he was a tiger ready to pounce. 
“It’ll be hard to stop once we start — we should think—“ your fingertips brush his cheek, his eyes falling shut at your touch, the want inside you only grew, as you felt him lean into you. 
“Who said we’re going to stop?” and he breaks, his hand is sliding around your waist, tugging you closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his words nearly muttered against it. 
“Are you sure?” 
“I am—” and that’s all he needed. 
In a flash you’re pinned on the bed, blinking as you glance at the spinning ceiling fan for a moment before he’s leaning over you. 
His eyes are tinted with red and laced with desperation, fangs flashing as his fingers cup your chin and he leans down, “I’ll show you how much I like you, pretty girl.” 
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“Oh, Cho-so,” your arms are wrapped around his torso, pulling him impossibly closer, his hot tongue dragging up the side of your neck, licking at the rivers of blood dripping down, “fuck, please—“ 
“Can’t waste a single drop, not when you taste so good,” he’s murmuring, nearly hypnotized by your taste — his sticky saliva and your blood mixed together, “fuck, I could kiss every inch of you and it wouldn’t be enough,” 
“Please, I need more,” and he’s chuckling, nibbling at the base of your neck, a whine parting your lips that made him nearly bust a nut then and there, “please—“ 
And his lips find yours in a searing kiss, fangs lightly biting your bottom lip, swallowing your gasps with a smirk, and how is it possible your lips are even sweeter? It was as if you were made of molasses, and he was more than happy to indulge. He parts your lips, dragging a thumb down your kiss bitten lips, your saliva clinging to his skin. 
“You know how long I wanted this? Had to touch myself in the shower to stop myself from pinning you the moment we entered the room,” he murmurs, recalling how his fingers had reached for his cock, already nearly covered in pre, his thumb running across his slit was nearly enough to make him burst. But it paled in comparison to the sight of you, disheveled under him, eyes glazed over with pleasure, chest rising and falling fast, and your lips nearly begging him to kiss you again and again, “and now I want to take my time, love,” but he doesn’t, instead he bends down again, to nip and suck marks all over your skin, savoring the drops of blood he steals from each one — a constellation dotting your neck and collarbone to remind anyone that you were his. And his fingers find yours, just as he was yours. 
And you whimper, as he kisses his way down your arm, sweet pecks dotting down, until he reaches your wrist. He noses it, feeling the rush of your pulse underneath your skin, the sweet scent of your blood clouded his mind, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin, as he flashes a gaze upward for your silent permission. You nod. 
Your nod was all he needed, before his fangs sinks into your wrist. It was potent — you were potent rather — he had grown used to his normal supply of blood, blood that he had acquired through the proper channels, and though it quenched his thirst, it never satisfied it. 
You were more than satisfaction itself — you were ecstasy incarnate, and he was utterly addicted from the moment he had his lips pressed against your lovely skin. Scarlet dripped from the bite and the corners of his mouth — the blood flooded his mouth, an unending pool of need that only grew with each second. 
And as he pulled away, blood dripping from his lips, he watched your eyes flutter open, legs spread for him, as he licked his lips clean. 
“Such a waste to let even a single drop go,” he drags his tongue up the rivulets of blood that ran down your wrist, and a whimper escapes your lips, and his lips curl, “what do you want, love? Tell me,” 
And you’re biting your lip, averting your gaze, but he’s guiding it back to his, “Choso, please, I need you to touch me,” you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, cheeks burning, “please—“ 
He pulls your hand away, and kisses your lips again in a bruising kiss, before he’s pressing sweet kisses down your body, easing the straps of your bra down. He kisses the swell of your breasts, one after the other, making you squirm in place.
“Pretty girl,” he’s murmuring, his lips kissing each one of your erect nipples, caught in a thick haze of lust, “so good for me,” and he’s lighting a trail of kisses down your body, and he’s resisting the urge to mark up every inch of you — no, there would be time for that later, his eyes flicking up to meet your half lidded gaze, “gonna be good for me?” His skillful fingers slide under the elastic of your panties, snapping the fabric against you, making you gasp, “either way, I might just eat you up,” 
A shaky chuckle escapes your lips, “Promise?” And he chuckles, as he’s spreading your lips, leaning down to press a hot kiss to your inner thigh. 
“Be careful what you wish for,” his teeth graze the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, before running over the mark with his tongue, before his fingers are running over your drenched panties, and it takes everything in him not to sink his fangs into your plush thigh, but no — he’s carefully tugging down your underwear down your legs — he had to stay focused. 
His breath catches at the sight of your dripping cunt and swollen clit, glistening with your juices that told him just how much you wanted this — and it was enough to nearly have him cumming in his boxers. And then the sweet scent of your precum becomes too much for him—
And he can’t wait. 
His tongue flicks against your clit, making a squeal escape your lips, fingers finding purchase in the long strands. It’s too good — judging by the way your hips nearly rut into his lips, while your own moans his name. But it was even better for him, as he groans against your pussy, licking the pre sticking to his lips. 
“How do you taste so good? Sweetest thing I’ve tasted, as good as every part of you,” 
You gasp when his fingers spread your folds, “Cho—“ and he’s circling a tip of one of his lithe fingers around your entrance teasingly. 
He hums lightly, “Can’t decide whether I want to use my fingers or my mouth, love,” he murmurs in contemplation, whilst his tongue teases your needy clit, “what do you think, baby?” 
“I need you—anything—“ and he’s licking a stripe up your sweet pussy, before he’s sinking a finger into your fluttering walls, “Choso—fuck—“ and the wet squelch of your cunt and the feel of your fluttering walls around his digit makes his dick twitch in his boxers, “s’good,” 
And you’re melting into his touch, your juices soaking his fingers and wrist as he fucks you with his finger, knuckle deep in your warm walls, rubbing at your clit with his thumb. 
And you’re so sensitive, every move of his finger has your walls squeezing him tight, his other hand sneaking into his boxers to palm at his erection, “Cho, I need more—“ and he’s adding a second finger to the first, fucking you deep until he finds that spot — and that’s enough for you to fall apart. 
You cum, back arching as you do, stars bursting behind closed eyes, as you moan his name. He’s fucking you through your orgasm, walls fluttering around his fingers, thighs tensing around his hand. You come down from your high, chest nearly heaving from your pants, as he eases his fingers from your pussy. A soft sigh leaving your throat as your cunt flutters around nothing. 
Your eyes flutter open to see Choso licking his fingers clean — still sticky with your release — fangs flashing with the part of his lips, and you shiver at the sight. He’s leaning back down, pressing kisses to your thighs, before his tongue drags up your leaking pussy, making you gasp. 
“Please, Choso—fuck—“ and he’s smirking, glancing up with lips glossy with your release, placing a chaste kiss to your puffy clit, your eyes falling to his hand palming his boxers, “let me touch you—“ 
“Not yet, baby,” his tongue circles your slit, circles growing faster before sinking into your insides, nose bumping against your swollen clit, as he laps at your messy slit, “not until I’ve swallows every drop of you,” his fangs pinch at your clit. 
It’s already too much for you — your second orgasm sneaks up on you — a coil wound tight as he slurps and sucks at your cunt, all too eager to taste every last drop. And oh, he does — until he uses his thumb to rub at your clit, and it’s too much—
You squirt all over his face, soaking his face and fingers with your release, his lips more than eager to lap up every drop of it. Even as he pulls away, your cum is dripping down his chin, his dark eyes lidded as he looks up at you. 
And he can’t wait anymore—he needs to sink his dick into you. He’s licking his chin clean, pussydrunk on your cum, as he smashes lips to yours. Your moan is stifled as you taste yourself on his lips, tongue sneaking into your mouth as you part them for him. You hear the shift of the sheets as he tugs his boxers down, pulling his lips away only to finish kicking them off. 
But that’s not what you were looking at. 
Fuck, he was huge — his engorged tip was a deep red, large pearly beads of precum dripping down, while the rest of him was flushed a lovely pink. The veins that went along his length made gou tempted to trace them, mapping out his cock until you remembered every inch. You were hypnotized as your fingers reached for him, thumb flicking against his slit, before grasping at his base. 
He gasps, head lolling back, as you spread the pre along his length, beginning to pump him, “Fuck, so good for me, baby,” he’s covering his lips, cheeks flushed to match his cock, “please, I won’t last—“ and he nearly blows his load when your mouth sucks at the tip, before sliding his dick past your lips. your tongue tracing along the veins.
And a whine leaves his throat, as you start to bob along his length, spit and precum dripping down the corners of your mouth as you messily sucked at him. His hips jerk, as his fingers thread into your hair, tip brushing against his throat, it’s almost too much. 
He’s easing you off his cock with a tug of your hair, your lips parting with a pop, strings of saliva and precum connecting your mouth to his dick. And god, he wants nothing more then to pump his cock and let him spill all over your face. 
But no, no, he rather spill inside you. 
In an instant he’s gotten you onto your back,  the head of his cock brushing against your dripping cunt. He’s dragging the head of his dick against your dripping folds teasingly, making you squirm. 
“Please,” you’re whining, drawing a soft chuckle from him, as he’s lining himself up, groaning in unison as his tip bumps against your slit, “fuck, Choso, I need you—“ 
And he obliges, sinking into you inch by inch, a grunt from his mouth, “Already trying to swallow me whole, love? No need for that — I’m already giving it to you,” the delicious stretch of your warm walls pull him in deeper, stretching as he works himself inside your cunt, “so tight, baby,” and he’s finally bottoming out — cock twitching against your sweet cunt. 
He’s reaching places you didn’t think were possible, his 
You were far too tempting, “Please, Cho, please move—“ your words cut off with a gasp as his lips against your neck again, fangs piercing your skin as he bites you, right as he starts to slowly fuck into you. 
White hot pleasure rips up your spine — the bite and the way his cock fucks you enough for you to already cum around him, your mouth parted in moans, as your walls clamp down on him. He’s sucking greedily at your blood, and he wasn’t sure what was better, the way your sweet blood tasted against his tongue, or the way your release squelched around his dick, as he fucked it. And he barely registers that his cock is growing larger against your spasming pussy, but you sure do, as you moan his name. 
“S’big, Choso, too big,” you’re whining, as his hand presses against your lower half only to feel a slight bulge, and he only makes him want to thrust harder, too far gone to think — only one thought circling the drain of his pin sized perspective — that he wanted to fill you up, 
“Cho-so, please—“ and he doesn’t know what you’re asking him, to slow down or to go faster, as he pulls his fangs from you. And he could cum just looking at you — your forehead slick with sweat, while scarlet rivulets of your blood ran down the side of your neck, eyes blown out in such lust — and everything about your body begging him to fuck you more.  
“S’pretty for me, baby,” as he fucks you through your orgasm, another building in its place, as he watches his cock piston in and out of your fluttering cunt. And it feels too fucking good. And he’s leaning back down to lick up the blood staining your neck, as he gives a particular hard thrust that has you seeing stars, and he knows you’re close—and he knows he won’t last much longer — not with the way your vice grip cunt is squeezing around him. 
But you’re confirming it with your moans, filling his ears along with the lewd noises of skin slapping together, “I’m close—I’m—“ and he’s grunting in agreement, as his lips find yours in a bruising kiss, only to pull a breath away to ask: 
“Where?” And the flutter of your walls that pulls him impossibly deeper tells him the answer, but you reply with words as well.  
“Inside, please, need to feel you fill me—“ you cum then and there, words cut off with a moan of his name, and he’s fucking you through your orgasm. His thrusts stutter as he grows close, before groaning and pressing another kiss to your lips, biting your bottom lip to draw blood, as he spills inside you, painting your insides with his hot release, fucking it inside you as his hips slow. 
He’s pulling away from your lips, pulling himself from inside you, a soft gasp leaving your lips, as he moans himself when he watches his seed mixed with your cum slip from your pussy. 
He’s caressing you, pressing sweet kisses to your face and neck, your quiet pants filling his ears like a metronome. 
“Are you okay?” he murmurs, and your eyes flutter open, lips curling slightly as you nod, a sigh on your lips. 
“I’m more than okay,” you press your lips to his again, a sweet kiss that grows more insistent as your tongue drags against the seam of his lips, before you hear a wet squelch, and your eyes open darting down to only find him stroking his cock, “Choso, are you—“ 
“Mm, the effect of your blood hasn’t quite subsided for me,” he murmurs, “but I think I can take care of it with—“ and he’s flipped onto his back, eyes blinking up as you, sitting on top of him. 
And he sees the blatant want in your gaze, as you begin to lower yourself onto his dick, a smile pulling at your lips, as your lust pulled him under and his cock inside you. 
“I told you I’d take care of you, Choso,” and you offer your neck to him again, dragging your wrist across his face, “so let me.” 
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“You’ll be working with Choso again on this project,” you have to bite back your smile, when you nod, “the two of you did a good job on the last one. Thank you for the overtime you put in. It did not go unnoticed,” 
“No problem, sir, anything for the job,” and your supervisor smiles, as you turn to leave, “I’m sure Choso would say the same,” 
“The two of you make a good team. I may pair you two together more often. Is that okay? I’ll have to run it by Choso, of course,” and you nod, hand already on the door knob. 
“I’m sure he would be more than okay with that, sir.” 
“Ah, baby, please just one bite?” Choso’s got you pressed up against the conference room door, “spending all day at work with you makes me so needy,” he mumbles against your skin, as he’s already unbuttoning your button up, the shirt already creased with he’s tugging it free from your slacks, “please,” 
“Cho, you had one this morning, it’s barely lunchtime, and you’re this desperate—” and he’s grinding his tenting erection against your clothed cunt, and your hand barely is able to make it in time to stifle your moan with your fingers, “fuck, fine, one bite, but don’t make a mess, this is a white blouse, babe—” 
He’s already tugging down your shirt, wrapping his arms around his middle, as his red tinted gaze meets yours in the shaded drawn window of the conference door. And now you were sure — your coworker loved you, even when you thought he didn’t.  
“Don’t worry, love, I won’t spill a drop.” 
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✧ a/n: this fic was weirdly hard to write. i was very stuck for a while. i couldn't figure out how to write it even though the idea struck me. but i hope you all enjoy <3 thank you for @laneysmusings and @gaylatteart for betaing and being the best moral support <3
✧ taglist: @yourwaifuhatesyou, @cira273, @kakashineedstotouchgrass, @whereismysane, @kaedeolgy, @keirangoldenwatch, @indieotterxoxo, @mua-for-now, @b3llair3, @evieslook, @shervinss, @saltymeow77, @svt-backup, @dazailover1900, @kentocalls, @yamaguccitadashi, @simply-a-s1mp, @rita-ritarita, @gorepain, @jupisloveletterz, @ice-echo26, @lemonpoppy-seed, @turtletaubwrites, @complexivelovely, @tiramatsumu, @strangehuman101, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @adrenova, @chosoitos, @stonecoldsensitive, @flyingtranscatofeffed, @sunamatic, @maetziniscool, @muichirosbestie, @monstrousbuu, @spider-fan72, @nakariabnrb, @petalshxwer, @talkativetranscendant, @fairyxgothic, @jupisloveletterz, @crystalkat6747, @unorthodoxfaithxx, @hotcocokiss, @angstigone, @sunnykento, @dantaku
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boyfhee · 2 months
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ㅤ ꣑୧ : INSATIABLEㅤㅤ𝒻t.ㅤㅤ제이크
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꒰ ✉️ ꒱ the sight of blood on your lips makes him kiss you better.
ㅤㅤ﹙1014﹚ ㅤ장르 vampire au, est. relㅤㅤwarnings making out, bloodㅤㅤᐢᗜᐢ i love vampires .. vampires please dm iNDEX
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you don’t even notice the small sigh that leaves your lips when your eyes settle on jake, the subtle sound grabbing his attention. your face heats up when he turns his head towards you, lips curling up in a smile.
“see something you like?” his smile only gets wider when he sees your flustered expression, the way your gaze has a hard time deciding whether to focus on his face, or his half unbuttoned, slightly wet shirt. he likes it when he has you speechless, and exactly where he wants. 
you can only lean back on the couch when he comes closer, one hand parallel to your head, pressing up against the soft material of the furniture, the other tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. your eyes instinctively move down to his lips, breath hitching— it doesn’t really help when he has you caged between his arms.
and you’ve been obsessed with something lately— his fangs, and he’s well aware of it. 
“cat got your tongue, angel?” his words bring you back to reality ever so efficiently, but you’re back to daydreaming the second you register the feeling of his warm breath on your neck. he takes in the fragrance of your perfume, his favourite, and then presses a lingering kiss over your sensitive skin. “can i kiss you?”
you nod, way too enamoured by him to form words. you’re busy admiring his face anyway, the way his hair accentuates his face, making him prettier than he already is. he looks a little too good in shirts, and you love it too much for your own good. however, you manage to speak anyway, after a few silent seconds. “you don’t really have to ask,”
he pulls back when you whisper those words against his ears, shaking his head. “i need to hear you say it, sweetheart,” 
“kiss me,” and your eyes flutter shut when he finally presses his lips against yours while your hands fist up against the hem of his shirt. he takes it slow at first, savouring the feeling of your lips against his. jake settles down next to you on the couch, a gasp falling off your lips when his arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you onto his lap. he smiles when your arms encircle around his neck, fingers lost in his hair. he kisses you slow, parting your lips with every move.
minutes pass in empty amidst the lazy kisses shared between the two of you. you hear him mumble sweet nothings between the kisses, some making you giggle and other simply making the butterflies in your chest go haywire. 
jake had no plans to break the kiss until you pull back with a soft wince when his fangs accidentally scratch against your bottom lip and before he could register, there was blood adorned on your lips. 
“oh—” you lift your finger up to your lips, noticing the blood on the tips. “i’ll go grab a tissue—” and you pause exactly when you process the look in his eyes, gaze unwavering from your lips. you can feel his grip on your waist tighten, pressing you closer against himself. it’s scary, and incredibly thrilling. 
another gasp rolls off your tongue when your boyfriend lays you down on the couch, kissing your fingers, then palm, and then a pause as he whispers huskily. “i’m sorry, baby—” a kiss on your wrist— “you just look so—” arms, then your jaw and cheeks. “— irresistible,” 
and then he pulls you in a searing kiss, not waiting for your response. he takes the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth, hand sliding down to your hip to pull you closer as you let out a small whimper— you’re not sure if it’s because of the proximity or the burning sensation on your lips when he nips a little harder over the cut. 
jake would argue that he treats you to the utmost care— at least that’s what he told heeseung when the guy joked about jake sucking blood off you— and he does, never even thinking about using you for his sinful cravings. he has always been wary of hurting you with his fangs between kisses, but right now, not so much. 
not when you taste exactly what he’s craving, perhaps something between blood and the half-eaten sweet cherry vanilla pastry on the kitchen counter. he doesn’t think you’ve ever tasted better. when you lean in to kiss him deeper, he slides his hand just a little under your shirt, drawing soft circles on your skin, but when you wince again, causing him to pull back immediately. 
“are you okay, sweetheart?” he whispers, the expression on his face replaced by concern the very second. he leans back a little while tracing your jaw gently. “did i hurt you?” 
and you put your hand on his cheeks, caressing it tenderly with the sweetest smile on your face. “not really, no,” 
“are you sure?”
“yes, jake, i am sure,” you nod with a reassuring smile.
he buys your words even though he’s still uncertain, and you know it. there’s worry etched across his face, however his eyes betray the desire behind them when his gaze settles on your lips again, all smeared in blood. you can feel the way his eyes trace over as if marking them with insatiable thirst. your heart picks up its pace, already anticipating his lips— but he runs his thumb across your lips, wiping off the blood. “better,”
and he dives right back in.
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ahhhwomen · 4 months
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The calm before the storm.
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Vampire Empire
Part 7.1
Pairing: DarkVamp!Wanda Maximoff x DarkVamp!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
A/N: Well... here it is. I changed the graphic parts, but it's still violent. This was supposed to be a hurt/comfort chapter, but it just turned into hurt, so I divided the chapter into two, this is the hurt part... and I will try my very best to make the next one a comfort... Writer block hit me like a truck with this one so please excuse bad writing...
AU Warnings: Human pets, abuse, violence, possessiveness, probably incorrect vampire lore, angst, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, kitten play (?), also this is not a Carol positive fic (I have nothing against her, but I needed a villain), death  Minors DNI 18+
Word Count: 3k
CHAPTER WARNINGS: Extreme violence, slightly explicit violence, talk of torture, scars, violence against a child
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(26 hours before the slaughter)
“Come on pretty girl, I know you can do it, keep your head above the water baby.” Gentle hands try to coax you, pushing against the back of your neck in an attempt to force your muscles into action.
It’s strange, the only other times you have been in the bath is when they were drowning you, perhaps you enjoy this more. It’s hard to tell, you can’t feel much of anything anymore.
Her grip loosens for a moment and your head lolls to the side, foamy bubbles collide with your left ear, the earlobe barely having made contact with the hot water before soft hands return with full force to catch you.
“Hmph.” A frustrated sigh gets drowned out by the insistent buzzing inside your mind. The sound consumes you from the inside, eating away any emotion that slipped past the initial reaping.
A creak slices through the still air as Natasha grits her teeth together, white bone clumsily gliding against itself, barely missing the inside of her cheek. She has been hunched over for the better part of half an hour, but she can do nothing but uncomfortably shift the pressure from one knee to the other, her hands occupied with you.
Wanda had insisted they set you into a routine. So, every night Natasha was tasked with bathing you, though you weren’t making it easy for her.
As her rolled-up sleeve dips into the water for the fourth time while she adjusts, Natasha debates yet again if she should call on Wanda for help, but as her eyes drift over your empty ones, she thinks better of it.
Guilt eats her alive as she works on finishing up your bath and tucking you in.
Three days ago (96 hours before the slaughter):
A wet washcloth is continuously dragged across your forehead as Wanda wipes the sweat away, her fingers follow the path of the moist trail as she feels your temperature and sighs in relief.
After two intense nights, your fever finally broke, but you had yet to wake up. She is just about to tuck you back in when her wife’s voice rings through the spacious room.
“How is she doing?”
Natasha leans against the doorframe while she watches her wife care for you. The wood digs into her shoulder blade, but she ignores it in favor of keeping her distance. As much as the younger redhead craved to be near you, she was cautious to interact with you when Wanda was there.
After the fever gave them quite a scare the day before, Natasha came just as close to losing her life as you. Wanda had fallen asleep with you clutched in her grip after an hour of settling your shaking frame from a nightmare. After a while, Natasha attempted to remove you from Wanda’s possession.
She was merely concerned about Wanda’s heated body irritating your flushed skin, but after almost losing an eye to a sleep-deprived redhead, she left the primal care to her other half.
Wanda hums, her fingers stroking your hair delicately as she kneels beside the plush guestroom bed. As she rakes through them, your hair strands lay clumped together, loosening them strand by strand she soothes herself.
“She needs a bath,” her fingers move from your hair to your face, gently tracing your features. When the pad of her pointer hits a sensitive spot beneath your jaw, you let out a breathy giggle in your sleep, and Wanda can’t help the lift of her lips into a pleased grin.
However, her smile is quickly wiped away as a familiar jingle of metal rattles against your throat as you shift in your slumber.
Natasha hummed her agreement, unaware of her wife’s fleeting attention.
The layers of filth that covered you had to be weeks, if not months, in the making. She was aware that you got a weekly hose down by the shelter, but depending on when Carol loaned you out, you could very easily have missed it.
“Should I get one started?”
With a huff, Wanda nods slowly. Her irritation radiates off of her as she looks you over.
Natasha tilts her head, at her wife’s strange reaction, her shirt gliding against her cheek. “Is there an issue?”
The older redhead looks down for a moment. The sheer uncomfortableness that settles within her very bones is not without reason. Her skin is cold with prickles and goosebumps. Perhaps it’s a ridiculous reaction, but the significance of what she is about to do is crucial to you, she knows that.
However, as the filth and stench of a certain blondie coats itself around the stark leather surrounding your neck, she knows it needs to be done.
She needs to remove your collar.
“Her collar. It needs to be removed.” The words are sneered, almost growled, as Wanda wills the uncertain into existence.
Natasha stiffens, her clothes which were perfectly fine a moment ago now feel disgusting against her soft skin, every stitch piecing it all together feel wrong and patchy.
A collar is a safety net in the power dynamic between a vampire and a pet. It’s always been a part of vampire tradition that the collar is a reminder of good faith. Removing the collar, without the owner’s specific request, means punishment.
If you wake up without your collar, you will never forgive them.
“I will do it.” With her head hung low, Natasha closes the distance between herself and you, crouching down beside her wife. Her knees creak as she sinks into position, her hands reaching toward you.
The sorrow that builds and sinks within her is laughable. They barley know you, and you definitely don’t know them, yet the pull between yourself and them is undeniable. In a lifetime of grief, Natasha was hoping it could symbolize a new beginning, a lifeline of sorts.
Perhaps it wasn’t meant to be.
Just as her fingers struggle against the metal clasp, smaller, softer hands glide over her own and hold them gently.
“No.” The clan leader sighs out calmly.  
Natasha furrows her brows in confusion.
“But-“
“No. I need to do this.” With a sad smile, Wanda removes her wife’s hands and holds them to her lips, “She likes you.” It was the simplified truth.
To be frank, Wanda scares you, she can tell by the way you never find peace around her, even while you are asleep. You wouldn’t trust either of them when you wake, but at the very least she could lessen the burden that will lay on her wife’s shoulders.
With her tail tucked between her legs, the younger girl nods silently and raises herself into a standing position. The loose thread beside her zipper takes over all of Natasha’s attention, she refuses to watch.
Wanda removes your collar in an almost medical procedure, leaning slightly over your tiny frame surrounded by plush pillows and warm blankets, she finds the point of no return and she places her fingers lightly against your skin as her fingers work on opening the clasp.
She knows immediately.
As soon as the back of her ring finger touches your neck.
She knows she will beat Carol Danvers until she is unrecognizable.
“Oh.”
The leather feels rough and scratchy as she clutches it in her grip while looking you over.
“So that’s why she is leased,” Wanda mumbles in a monotone voice.
That finally catches Natasha’s attention again. With a curious glance over Wanda’s shoulder, Natasha falls void of any emotion but one. Pure, unfiltered, hatred.
Back in the day, rouge vampires had a specific way of marking their property.
They called it The Noose of Misery. A name bound in irony, a mockery, as they scarcely felt sorry for this sort of thing.
It was deemed a form of entertainment.
The noose of misery; was to slit your victim’s throat repeatedly, leaving gruesome slashes through thin skin. The first slice was always the same, they would cut the vocal cords. It wasn’t precise, nor pretty, it was merely a rouge slash against vulnerable anatomy.
Due to this, they would often miss their target.
Which would prompt them to hold down their victims until they were satisfied, it wasn’t hard to tell when they succeeded as their victims would fall silent. Or a form of silence as they attempt to refrain from drowning in their own bodily fluids.
The vampires found it most entertaining when their prey ran around like headless chickens, choking and gurgling on their blood, trying their best to scream for help.
Despite the intensity of this game, their food would rarely pass away from it.
A vampire’s blood has a certain healing ability, and contrary to popular belief, drinking the blood of a vampire does not turn you into one. Only a clan leader could sire a new vamp.
So, the youngsters would often find new and innovative ways to watch their victim suffer, and only when the life seeped out of their eyes like the blood did their body, then and only then would the vampires slash their wrists and force it down their preys partially slit throats.
However, even with its healing ability, the blood of a vampire is considered poison. The pain that would sear through you after consumption has often been compared to being burned alive.
That never stopped them.
The ritual would be repeated until the owner was satisfied. Then the last round of slashes would be healed with a singular drop of blood, enough to keep them hanging on by a thread, but no more than that.
When the nasty gashes healed to raised scars, it would be proof of ownership.
In 1898, The Noose of Misery was banned across all clans.
Wanda Maximoff made sure of it.
Yet, there were always those select few that never listened.
Given the scarring, you couldn’t have been older than nine.
Nine?
Nine…
Nine.
There is an audible *click* as two sets of sharpened canines force themselves present as the two redheads look down at the horror.
There was a difference with yours; the first slash was precise and professional, cut right through the vocal cords. It was a given who ordered it to be done, but it was clear she was not the one to do it.
Or rather, she was not the one to do the first slice.
That also explained why you were a less permanent commitment to the shelter. It must have taken place during the trial.
There is a trial period when it comes to buying pets. Some test them for a week, others for a year, it all depends on the customer and how much money they are willing to pay. If they deem the pet unfit, they can return them for half price.
However, shelters and kennels alike have a strict policy against marking their brand. If the pet is marked before being sold, the responsible party is banned from buying said pet, and they have to pay a heavy compensation.
That whore must have paid half a fortune to make up for what she did to you.
Leased pets are damaged goods.
They will never be bought.
Anger crawls like ants within the older redhead.
“And so, the war begins.”
Her expression is blank as she speaks clearly. The anger within her digs in deeper until it mends with her very being. She means every word of it.
Just as the last syllable was worded out, Wanda looked down to see your scared eyes staring right back at her.
There is no telling how long you have been awake while Wanda was preoccupied with staring down at the scars, willing them to dissipate before her very eyes.
With a sigh, Wanda pats your head one last time before you cower away from her touch.
It hurt, but she knew what would happen once your only line of defense was taken away from you. The redhead stares down at the collar held firmly within her hands. She wished she was stronger, that she could return it to you and pretend as if she never knew.
But as you both glue your eyes to leather almost as old as you, the ants turn into giants, a soundly crack can be heard as the dirty material is ripped into pieces right before you.
And with it, you too fall into a disarray of pieces that will never fit back together.
That collar was all you had.
It was all you were.
Without it…
You are nothing.
Nothing but hers.
“Romanoff.” A chill runs down Natasha’s spine at the tone of her wife’s calling.
“Contact the Thor clan and inform them that they have 96 hours to give over Carol Danvers or I will kill them all.”
The command was said so bluntly Natasha could hardly believe her ears. But as she looks over to Wanda’s hunched frame, her nose snarled and her eyes a dangerous glowing red, she breaks out of her trance and excuses herself.
She can comfort you later, but there won’t be a later if she does not obey her wife.
Current time (24 hours before the slaughter):
Wanda has woken up screaming in terror many times in her lifetime. It’s not easy to live as long as she has, to see what she has seen. The same horror burdens Natasha.
So, the older redhead has lost count of the timeless times her slowly beating heart has broken at the sight of her wife crying and screaming in her sleep.
There was nothing more painful.
Or so she thought.
What she could never imagine was how it would make her feel to watch someone attempt to sob their long overdue sorrows, only for them to flail and choke against their own vocal cords silently. Nothing but weak gasps and hoars coughs, the sound itself making her wince in pity.
Breathing through her nose slowly, Wanda has to close her eyes to collect herself before turning toward her wife, who carries an expression not far from her own. With her lip peeled back and her eyes narrowed, Natasha cringes at the sound of your tiny frame fighting the bedsheets.
As her eyes glue themselves to the nanny cam, she set up on their bedside table, Wanda thinks of what limb to start with.
Carol seems awfully attached to those claws of hers…
She is quickly brought back to the present time when a loud gasp emits from the speakers, followed by a heavy thud as you fall off the king-sized bed.
Wanda is on her feet and halfway down the hallway before Natasha can get a word out.
You saw more of the ceiling that night than you did the floor.
Your hands swipe against empty air. The sounds around you are like a cold hollow inside an unexplored cave. Nothing but echoes of lies surround you as you desperately try to grasp the situation in a literal sense. Like a zombie, you growl and groan as your hands seek the source of your misery.
You can’t see her. With your neck split in half, you would have to use both hands to hold your head up.
However, it doesn’t hurt.
Not yet.
So, you fight.
You are far shorter than them, Master is almost double your height, and the other lady isn’t much shorter. If you could just get closer, your hardened hands may be able to grasp them and beg for forgiveness. You can’t really talk though…
The side of your vision darkens as the blood gushes and pools beneath your feet. You can’t see it, but you feel it, it’s like ice pouring down your body.
Streams like rivers, split and thicken into canals, as they cascade down your stomach and glide down your thighs.
Like a switch-
A sneaking wave hits you, suddenly the adrenaline is gone, and the crash is horrendous.
Your knees crash into the floor, your body following behind shortly. The weight of your own body fights against you as you attempt to push yourself upward. With your hands grasping and slipping against amber liquid, your elbows give out under the pressure, and you fall into a heap.
Cracks of a weak child’s bones bounce off the wall as you lay defeated.
Soon, your mind and body become self-aware of your soon-to-be decapitated head, and you can do nothing but gasp and flop like a fish out of water.
It’s really scary.
The small hands of a nine-year-old child claw and paw at the cold floor as two adult women watch for the fourth time that night as a young pet watches Death seek her out.
They break your jaw open, then a wrist is forced into your mouth.
You are scared.
The blood hurts.
It hurts a lot.
“Again.”
“Again.”
“Again.”
“Again.”
“Aga-“
*GASP*
On the other side of town (96 hours before the slaughter):
Carol learned at a very young age that vampires like Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff think they are invisible. And they were, not a single creature, human, vampire, or otherwise, ever came close to breaking them.
Weren’t you just full of surprises.
A puff of smoke surrounds the blond woman as she leans against the truck. With one leg crossed over the other, her pants rustle against each other as she swishes lightly to one side.
Men and women alike continue to shout and argue in the back as they finish loading up their gear.
Just as she flicks the cigarette to the ground and her boot crunches it against the pavement, her phone chimes.
BabyBoss:
You have 96 hours to give yourself over to the Maximoff clan or I will personally slaughter your entire hometown. Including your fucking childhood dog.
Read 2:13 am
Rolling her eyes, a chuckle builds up within her.
God, you really are full of surprises.
“You ready boss?” A gruff man in his late thirties asks her as she walks over to the back of the truck.
Throwing in her own bag she nods. “Lead the way.”
21 hours. 54 near deaths. 198 slashes. 32 scars.
Nine years old.
(This chapter really wasn't written well, I'm sorry.)
Taglist:
@thinking1bee, @tobiaslut, @esmeseasle, @skittlebum, @tia-thesimp, @maximilfsworld, @leenasayeed, @scarlethexelove, @itsalwaysskorpioszn, @observeowl, @tekanparadiae, @adelareys, @anqyuicka, @ichala, @thalia-is-not-ok, @lovelyy-moonlight, @wandamaximoff-simp, @opossumking03, @confidant-thoughts, @delivery-bird, @esouliie, @geydumbbetch, @dorabledewdroop, @mousetheorist, @herwagonempathkid, @mommysfavouritegirl, @auroraromaximoff, @roman0ffsheart, @morganna-la-faye, @kaosrsing, @marvelwomenarehot0, @lizzieswife101, @og-kxsh-420, @chibilauren, @sgm616, @cyber-juipter, @falloutboy-lover, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx, @likefirenrain, @cole2907, @rahhhha, @taliiiaasteria, @dehydratedcoffeeaddict, @viktoriaromanovaa, @julz2000, @ahintofchaos, @consti-ss, @broimjustadepressedlesbian, @rowiebear, @crispychaosmaker, @mary-20, @romanoff101, @alexawynters, @dinno-nuggets, @riddlesknot
(Does it work when I tag yall like this?)
335 notes · View notes
prompt-heaven · 2 days
Text
the ultimate list of AUs, kinks and tropes to inspire you for kinktober 
some of these are darker in nature since that is fitting for the spooky season. 
AUs
academic / teacher / professor / tutor 
addams family
babysitter / nanny
bartender
biker
bodyguard
bonnie and clyde
bounty hunter
boxer 
camp counselor
circus / carnival
cult 
demon / angel
fairytale retelling
fantasy 
farmer
firefighter
guardian angel 
historical 
hybrid
mafia / mob 
magic 
maid / butler 
mechanic 
modern 
monster / mythology / supernatural
paranormal investigator 
pirate / mermaid
post-apocalyptic
priest
prison
rockstar 
royalty
serial killer
sex worker / porn / camgirl/boy / stripper 
slasher
soulmate
spy / secret agent
steampunk / cyber punk
sugar daddy
tattoo artist 
time travel
treasure hunter 
vampire
werewolf 
wild west
TROPES
a/b/o
against a wall 
age gap
amnesia / memory loss
anonymous sex
balcony sex
boss x employee 
brothers best friend / dad’s best friend (dbf)
car sex
cheating
clothed sex
comforting sex
coworkers to lovers
cursed / fuck or die / sex pollen
dark / soft!dark
enemies to lovers
exes to lovers
fake relationship
forbidden romance
friends to lovers
friends with benefits
game gone wrong
hate sex / make-up sex
huddle for warmth
just the tip
library sex
loss of virginity
mirror sex
neighbours to lovers 
only one bed
opposites attract
period sex
pool / hot tub sex
predator / prey
professor x student
public / semi-public sex
revenge sex
reverse harem
romantic sex
roommates to lovers
rough sex
seduction
sex in an alley
sex in exchange for a favour
sex while camping
shower / bath sex
stalker
stepcest
table sex
unrequited love
yandere
KINKS
aftercare
anal 
begging
being recorded / taking pictures
body worship
dom / sub / bondage / bdsm / shibari
breath play / choking
cheating
cockwarming
corruption kink 
costumes / uniforms
creampie / breeding / forced breeding
cuckolding
cum in panties
cumplay
cunnilingus / face sitting / rimming / blowjob / deep throating / gagging
dacryphillia
dirty talk / voice kink
double penetration / double penetration in one hole 
dry humping / thigh riding 
dubcon / noncon / cnc / drugging
dumbification
exhibitionism / voyeurism
fingering
fisting
flashing 
food play 
footjob 
forced orgasm
formal wear 
free use
glory hole
glove kink 
hand kink
handjob 
hole inspection
humiliation / degradation
hunter / prey
impact play / spanking / whipping / hair pulling / pain kink
jealousy / sharing / possessive
knife kink / gun kink
lingerie / stockings / socks
massage
masturbation / caught masturbating / mutual masturbation
medical kink
monsterfucking / tentacles
multiple orgasms
orgasm denial / overstimulation / edging
threesome / orgy / gangbang
partner swap 
pegging
piercings
pillow humping
praise kink 
premature ejaculation / cuming untouched
pussyjob
roleplay
role reversal
ruined orgasm / cuming without permission
sensory deprivation 
sexting / phone sex 
facial / swallowing / bukakke
size kink / size difference / belly bulge
skirt stays on
somnophilia / getting fucked to sleep
spit kink
squirting
stripping / lap dance
teasing 
temperature play
thigh fucking
throat training
titty fucking
toys / object insertion 
OTHER PROMPTS
a ritual gone wrong 
a string of unexplained deaths
a summer fling gone horrible wrong, or right
alian abduction 
art come to life
basement wife 
being paralysed 
blackmail 
caught trespassing on private property
college party gone wrong
crazy ex
curiosity killed the cat
fate worse than death
final girl
getting stranded in a little town that’s not as wholesome as it seems
ghostface
halloween party
haunted house / abandoned house 
haunted object 
hitch-hiking gone wrong
hot neighbour that has an obsession with you
i was sent here to assassinate you but now i think i might be in love with you
Items moving and/or going missing
i’ll find you in every universe / century
kidnapping
lost in a maze
mad scientist 
magical healing 
marriage / wedding / arranged marriage/ forced marriage 
mind control / telepathy
mirrors playing tricks on the mind
oh, you had a long day? use me as your personal sex toy in order to unwind
oops, i summoned a demon 
oops, i’m dating a serial killer
playing games (like seven minutes in heaven, spin the bottle, hide and seek, etc.) but they have a slutty/dark twist to them
possession (ghost or demon)
power outage
ritual / sacrifice / blood magic
road trip
secret room
serial killers fucking in front of hostages
stalker landlord
stalker wearing the same costume as your partner 
stockholm syndrome
the return of a villain thought dead
torture
toxic frat boy
waking up from strange dreams and seeing bruises and marks on your skin that correspond exactly with the dream you just woke from
we’re the last people on the planet and you will be mine
you wake up strapped to a table just as a fuck machine is turned on
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A hunter hurt the kid.  Cyrus hurt the hunter back B)
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megistusdiary · 7 months
Note
pooks please write something vampire!arlecchino au x fem!reader plsplsplspls im having a brainrot. the plot is your choice you can do anything i just need vampire arlecchino.
if you do that ill give you a kiss pls 😞🙏
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i see vampire arlecchino has caught on.
let's see what i can cook up 😁
it got kinda long and boring, but i like writing pointless dialogue. what can i say?
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vampire arlecchino ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
dom!vampire arlecchino x sub!fem reader
warnings: smut (mdni), wlw content, vampire arle, biting, blood, fingering, size kink, established relationship
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you gently knocked your knuckles against the dark, elegant wood door of arlecchino's office. your ears strained for her soft 'come in' through the wood, slowly turning the knob to enter her office.
arlecchino was busy at her desk, piles of paperwork covering the surface. you closed the door quietly behind you, pulling your robe tighter over your body as you approached her.
she looked good like this, you found, very good. her hair was slicked back, a few strands escaping and framing her face.
her jacket was gone, and her traditional uniform was traded out for a long sleeve collared shirt. she left it half-unbuttoned, showing off the valley of her breasts, sleeves rolled up to her elbows as she concentrated on her work.
she glanced up at you, deep red irises finding yours. "you came." she hums.
"you called." is your response as you approach her desk, leaning over it to look at her papers. "i was waiting for you to come to bed. i thought you would've put everything aside for the night by now."
you knew she didn't need to sleep, or, at least not as long as you did. it was a common occurrence for her to work late into the night, joining you long past midnight in bed.
unfortunately, it seemed tonight was one of those nights she couldn't find it in her to set her work aside. not even for you, despite how the notion wounded you. you were at least grateful she called upon you, unable to sleep without her in bed next to you.
she scooted her chair out, patting her thigh for you. like a little puppy, you gingerly pranced to her side, situating yourself in her lap, turning to face her.
your eyes found hers, trained on her papers. her face carried a hint of exhaustion, slight bags forming under her eyes, skin paler than usual.
"how long has it been since you fed?" you suddenly ask.
it seems just the thought of blood has her hand faltering, nearly ruining the elegant signature on the paper in front of her. "why do you ask?"
you frown at her, leaning up to gently cup her face. "why won't you answer me?" your voice is sweet and gentle, causing her to set her pen down, opting to hold your hips instead.
she pulls your body to kneel over her lap, facing her. "despite how i would prefer to deny it, nothing seems to satisfy me these days. not since i drank from you."
your face heats up at the thought. "you mean to say that you won't feed unless it's me? but what if something happens to me? or i am suddenly anemic-"
"i will do everything in my power to keep you safe. you're more than a bloodbank to me. i'd sooner starve myself than drain you, doll." she cuts you off. "besides, i am perfectly capable of feeding infrequently." she pauses.
"you don't have to starve yourself on my account." you shrug your robe off one shoulder, baring your skin for her. "please?" your voice was so soft and sweet, and her jaw clenched at how you tempted her.
"you are the devil in disguise, doll." she mumbles to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose. "is it that you want me fed, or you want me to fuck you properly?"
your face heats up immediately. "what? no! i- i just...i..."
she tuts, shaking her head. "you're lucky i already decided to be done for the evening the moment you walked into my office." she pushes your robe gently further down, untying it to reveal the tiny silk nightgown beneath. "i hope you are not too fond of this piece, but i'll buy you a replacement."
she leans down and licks a strip up your neck, sharp fangs teasing you and leaving scratches. you shivered against her, bracing for the pain. you were surprised, however, when she decided to indulge you.
a hand snuck its way up the hem of your nightgown, teasing your thigh before pressing a fingerpad to your clothed clit. she felt you writhe on her lap, rubbing delicate little circles while she lapped at the crook of your neck.
"hold still." she warned, sinking her fangs into you eagerly, slipping her fingers under your panties to keep you placated.
her eyes fluttered shut at your little noises, stuck bouncing between pleasure and pain as she rubbed your bare clit.
blood seeped out of the puncture wounds, dripping down and staining the silk nightgown. you were too far gone to care, though, head tipped back as her fingers prodded at your pussy.
she collected your slick just as eagerly as she drank from your neck. using the wetness on her fingers, she eased one in gently, allowing you time to adjust.
even though your brain was fuzzy, you noted the way she trimmed her nails down, specifically to play with you. her other hand remained untouched, sharp nails digging into your skin as she kept you pressed tightly to her larger frame.
her fingers were longer than yours, always reaching deeper spots, stretching you out further as she pressed another into you. the little whines and whimpers you made had her groaning into your neck.
the hungry look in her eyes had disappeared, replaced by lust as she detached from your neck, licking over the wounds to close them.
"that's what i was missing..." she sighs, licking over her blood-coated fangs, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. your nose wrinkled at the taste of your blood, and she chuckled lowly.
her fingers crooked deeper inside of you, moving faster as her thumb rubbed into your clit. "be a good doll, and cum for me." she urged, enjoying the way your whines rose in pitch as you approached your high.
soon enough, you were spilling your slick over her fingers, head falling back at how she helped you ride it out.
small trails of blood still escaped from the wounds on your neck, prompting her to lick the blood up, dragging her tongue up your jaw messily. "good girl." she praised, feeling the way your smaller body rested against her own, melting into her.
374 notes · View notes
shibaraki · 9 months
Text
BITE INHIBITION ┊ CHOSO
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tags: GN reader, no curse au, human reader, vampire choso, bites (aphrodisiac effects), drinking of blood, creatures and monsters aren’t widely known, sexual tension, kissing, ambiguous relationship
wc: 1.3K
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Above, you note that pinpricks of light are beginning to show behind rust-edged clouds as the sky darkens.
You inhale.
The hug of old houses act as sentries to the alleyway. A narrow space covered by a canopy of vivid neon signs, washing the darkened surroundings in a red-yellow glow. It’s crowded. There’s nothing unnatural about the scene in front of you, just everyday people gathered for drinks to wind down after work, and yet knowing what—and who—could be hiding amongst them has you on high alert.
You exhale. With resolve you begin to weave through the throngs of tipsy salarymen. They slur apologies and obscenities and stumble at your intrusion. Your eyes scan their flushed, slack faces, unsure what it is you expect to find there. Something fearsome and monstrous and unfamiliar.
“In here”.
Ice coils around your wrist. You yelp as you’re tugged aside and pulled through a pair of curtains hung across a dim-lit doorway. Immediately, as if stepping into an entirely different world, the noise lowers into a pleasant din. You land against a solid surface and start to squirm.
“Be calm. It’s me. Are you alright?”
Hushed and gentle, Choso’s breath puffs right against your ear. A plush lower lip brushes the delicate shell. You shiver, and in realising he is holding you to his chest, your heartbeat ricochets—blood rushes to the surface of your skin, heat slipping in the cracks between capillaries, and when his fingers dig deeper into your hip you know he can sense it.
“Yeah—I’m alright. Nobody followed me,” you reply, making no effort to extract yourself from him. “Give me some warning next time. Fucking hell”.
He kisses your temple in lieu of an apology.
Choso is deathly cold. You can feel it under his simple, loose clothing. Today he’s wearing a t-shirt with a low collar and dark jeans, fitted around his thighs and his ankles, paired with laced up heavy duty boots. Unfairly handsome. You know well enough that the absence of warmth has nothing to do with his lack of layers. And despite that absence, you burrow closer as though he were a hearth.
Choso tenses beneath your casual affection, hands intermittently flexing before he ultimately decides to keep you close while guiding you deeper into the building. This was not your usual meeting place. From what you can discern it is just another izakaya—or at the very least, it’s masquerading as one. The waitstaff doesn't so much as bat an eyelid at Choso as he whisks you through the main seating area to the few private rooms in the back.
“Are you sure it’s safe to do it here?”
There’s little detail about the small space but it is cosy. You’re pliant as you allow him to usher you in and recline you into the plush couch cushions. “Yes. We won’t be disturbed,” he says, tone needlessly quiet.
The air around you feels unusually charged today. Trepidation prickled at your nape. You observe while he perches beside you with a darting-rabbit expression and arch your brow. Loose strands of dark hair slip forward to frame a pale face. Paler than usual, a shard of moonlight. The black markings that extend over the bridge of his nose have begun to bleed outside the lines and his irises are ivory-red, thin bands around dilated pupils.
“Choso…” you murmur with realisation. You reach to touch him and he flinches, shaking under the effort of his restraint. Your fingers snaked into his hair, a tangle of silky, black strands. The long spill of it slips through your knuckles and back over his shoulders. “Why didn’t you call me sooner?”
“There wasn’t any need,” Choso’s eyelids shutter, feline how he turns into the tender caress. “I have endured worse than this,” he replies.
“That hardly matters. You shouldn’t starve yourself. You’re shaking with it—”
Any further admonishment you might’ve had is immediately cloven to the back of your teeth as his nose bumps the heel of your hand. His lips part against your wrist and he inhales deeply. He groans. A crease forms in his brow, pinched in helpless desire.
“Not because I’m starving. Because of you,” he says. “I promised to pace myself with you but I needed…” there’s a sort of mindless drawl to his words. Lost in your scent, and in the healthy beat of your pulse. “Everything else tastes so dull in comparison”.
Arousal lances through you at the first sweep of his tongue. You press your thighs tight and he shudders, a soft whine pulled from his throat. “Choso,” you whisper.
“I’m sorry,” and you hear the true meaning behind it. It’s preemptive. It’s a warning.
Choso gives a chaste kiss to your wrist. Then his fangs are splitting open the skin there like soft fruit. His frame shuddered as he drew a deep gulp. The pain is fleeting, a sharp pierce that dwindles into muted pleasure. You slump as his larger body cages you against the cushions to suck and bite and take his fill of you.
Around you the room turns rosy, and then shadowed, and then dark. Your shallow breaths come faster and the tendrils of want curling low in your belly are stark. They thaw the ice spreading outward from your chest and keep you in a state of oscillating bliss. Choso hums, then huffs through his nose as a thin stream of blood leaks to the crook of your elbow. Tendon and sinew, you lazily watch him unlatch from the fount of your wrist to chase it with his tongue, laving a wet stripe up your forearm.
The markings on his face have receded. His lashes flutter, framing elderberry eyes. His lips are rouge, rough—rivulets have seeped into the cracks between his teeth and stained his gums red. It should scare you. Had it been anyone else it might’ve; yet you find him beautiful like this.
Though sensation is subsequently returning to your throbbing wound, the discomfort comes second to your need to have him closer. You cup the back of his head, too weak to apply any meaningful pressure, but that alone is enough for him to understand. Choso dips forward. He kisses you, wet and sticky with congealed blood. He sips at your mouth, firmly, but petal-soft as not to draw more blood.
You arch into him, trying desperately to display your enthusiasm while having none of the energy for it. Choso hums and lavishes you with a leisurely pace, licking past the seam of your lax lips before drawing back. At your plaintive whine he smiles, trailing fingertips over your chin.
You sigh as his thumb swipes the blood that is no doubt smeared across your skin, “Did you make a mess?”
“I made a mess,” he echoes fondly. Then his focus drifts to the closed door. “You should eat too”.
You follow his line of sight, remembering that there are people behind it, sharing meals of their own, none the wiser. Your head lolls against your shoulder, conceding. “Your turn to feed me,” you tell him.
His smile widens a fraction. Blood or no, the gleaming pride and self-satisfaction on his face makes Choso look eighteen and thirty six all at once while being close to neither.
“I’d love to”.
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429 notes · View notes
candycandy00 · 3 months
Note
Character:Hawks
AU setting:Gothic Mansion
Spice Level:NSFW
Mood:Light
Kinks:Breeding, Bondage, Choking
~🦄
The Chase - A Hawks x Reader Fanfic
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Smut. 18+. AU. Hawks as a vampire. Fem Reader. Bondage. Choking. Creampie. Vampire-related blood/biting. 
My first time writing Hawks! I hope it turned out okay! Any feedback would be adored! Divider by @benkeibear.
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When you first met Keigo at the cafe, the location you both agreed upon after talking on a dating app for almost a week, you were surprised. He certainly didn’t look 5’11. But height was never really important to you, so you didn’t mind. He was hotter than his pictures led you to believe, with a bright smile and an easy going attitude that appealed to you. 
When you asked him what he did for a living, he’d only said, “A little bit of everything over the years.”
He was only what, twenty-five? How many different jobs could he have had? But you dismissed it as a joke. You noticed he didn’t eat much, mostly just poking at his food or sliding it around on his plate. It almost felt like he was trying to make it look like he was eating. But his laugh was infectious, and he had plenty of funny stories to tell about traveling to different countries. You wondered how he found the time for all of that. 
At the end of the date, he took you home. You stood in front of your door, hoping he would kiss you, but he didn’t so much as pat you on the back. 
You went on a couple more dates after that, always at night. You joked that you were worried you’d never get to see him in daylight, and he’d laughed heartily. “What? You think I’m a vampire or something?”
“Maybe you are,” you said, giggling. 
He tilted his head, strands of dark blonde hair sliding over one eye as he said, “Maybe I am.”
There was a heat to his gaze as he said it, making goosebumps appear along your arms. And for the briefest of moments, you felt the most powerful urge to flee. You ignored such an irrational feeling. Keigo had been nothing but a gentleman, and in all honesty you were looking forward to him not being one anymore. 
On the fourth date, he asked if you’d like to come to his place for drinks. When you agreed, he said, “I’ll warn you, my house is pretty big. Been in my family for generations. Just don’t be freaked out.”
Now, as you sit in the passenger side of his cherry red convertible on your way to his place for the first time, you wonder how you could possibly be freaked out over a house. 
Until he pulls into the driveway. 
“Is that a fucking castle?!” you blurt out. 
The paved driveway, leading past an ornate, open gate, heads straight to a beautiful looming castle. It looks like something from a movie, probably about Dracula. The stone structure is huge, with literal towers! And though it looks like it was built in the Middle Ages, there are modern flourishes.
All the doors and windows appear to be new, and a lavish standalone garage sits nearby. The lighting is extraordinary, with beautiful colors being beamed at the castle from all directions. Without that, pulling up to this place at night would have been terrifying. 
Keigo laughs beside you. “Yep, it’s a castle.”
You turn to look at him. “Do you live here all by yourself?”
“I have a staff of people helping me run the place, but they all went home for the weekend.”
“Oh,” you say, realizing the two of you will be alone in this enormous building. A weird little thought crosses your mind, that you could get lost in this place, or that he could easily trap you here. You dismiss it, because so far Keigo has been really sweet. You don’t understand why you keep subconsciously thinking of him as a predator. 
And besides, you’re insanely attracted to him. You don’t think you’d mind him chasing you through this castle and fucking you against a wall. In fact you’re a little disappointed that he hasn’t made any moves on you. He hasn’t even touched you yet. 
“I didn’t realize you were rich,” you tell him as the two of you walk up to the door. He hasn’t even put his arm around you. Is he shy? Or just trying to be respectful? 
“I don’t like to advertise it on dating sites. I don’t need a bunch of young girls looking for a sugar daddy,” he replies, an easy smile on his face. 
That makes sense, though with his good looks, you doubt any women who approach him would be interested only in his money. 
Once inside, you find the interior is just as fancy as the exterior. It looks like the sort of house you would imagine royalty living in. High ceilings, plush carpets in some rooms with delicate tile work in others, rich furnishings in mahogany and gold, expensive paintings on the walls, a roaring fireplace big enough for at least three Santa’s to comfortably stand in. And again the mixture of antique and modern, ancient looking vases and art pieces beside a state of the art entertainment system. 
You look around in awe as he leads you down a hallway, through two different short corridors, and across a huge dining room to reach a kitchen. It’s the most modern room you’ve seen so far, brightly lit with beautiful marble countertops and all the best in appliances. 
The thought you had earlier returns to you as Keigo pops open a bottle of champagne - that you could get lost in this massive castle. You try to remember the exact turns the two of you took to reach this room, what the halls looked like as you walked through them. Could you quickly run back to the front entrance if you need to? 
Wait, why would you need to? Why do you keep imagining scenarios like that? 
Keigo is chatty and friendly as usual as he pours champagne into two crystal glasses and sits them both on the counter near you, subtly allowing you to choose the glass you want. He’s telling you about his great great great grandfather, also named Keigo, who lived here so long ago. 
“He was a weird old hermit, or so I’ve been told,” he says. “Spent years hiding out in this castle, letting the neighbors think whatever they wanted. It caused a lot of crazy rumors to spread about him.”
You sip your drink as you nod along. “What kind of rumors?” you ask. 
Keigo gives you that look again, the one that seems to be full of desire, and something else you can’t quite identify. The one that simultaneously makes you want to mount him and run away from him in terror. “That he was a vampire.”
You laugh. “People were so superstitious back then!” But in truth, you just felt an inexplicable chill run down your spine. 
Just then you notice that, while Keigo is holding the other glass in his hand, he’s never taken a sip. It’s a little suspicious, but maybe he’s just a light drinker, or he’s being careful since he has to drive you home later. Nothing to worry about, right? So why are alarm bells ringing in your mind?
And why does that excite you?
He sits the glass on the counter and steps a bit closer to you. There’s nothing explicitly threatening about the motion, but you find yourself drawing in a sharp breath. He stops when he’s close enough to touch you if he wants. Why won’t he touch you? His hands are so close. His body is so close! You imagine him bending you over his fancy countertops and fucking you right here in his pristine kitchen. 
“What about you?” he asks, snapping you back to reality. “Are you superstitious?”
You take another sip and try to project nonchalance. “Not at all. I don’t believe in monsters.”
He tilts his head again in that way that drives you mad. “You should. We’re definitely real.”
Huh? ‘We’? You laugh, almost touching his arm playfully but stopping yourself. “You’re really funny, Keigo.”
He smiles at you, that same easy going smile that charmed you from the beginning. “You’re funny too,” he says, “the way you keep pretending you don’t realize what I am.”
There they are again, the alarm bells, singing loudly in your brain, urging you to flee. The smile fades from your lips “What are you talking about?” 
“I don’t know what it is, some kind of gene or something, but some people just instinctively know,” he says, his tone casual. Friendly. “And usually, those same people send out their own signals, whether they know it or not. Just like you can sense that I’m a predator, I can sense that you’re wired to be the perfect prey.”
You back away a few inches, leaving your glass on the counter. Your heart is pounding wildly. “I don’t understand.”
He grins. “See? There it is again. You’re scared, naturally, but you’re excited too. You’re enjoying this. I can sense your pulse getting quicker, hear your heartbeat getting faster, and…” his eyes shift down your body, “can smell how wet you’re getting.”
You flush with embarrassment. He’s never said anything remotely sexual to you before, so it’s a bit of a shock to hear it now. But the worst part is that it’s true. 
“I knew it the moment I met you. It’s like you were designed to be my ideal prey,” he tells you. And suddenly you notice his warm golden eyes are glowing with a supernatural light, looking eerie even in this well lit room. He grins again, and you can see two prominent fangs, large and razor sharp, inside his mouth. 
You edge further away from him, still in disbelief. “W-what are you?” 
“Isn’t it obvious, sweetheart? Haven’t I been givin’ you hints this whole time? I’m a vampire.”
Your eyes sweep around the kitchen. There’s a knife block, but it’s closer to him than you. Is there anything else you could use?
You hear his laugh, still infectious even now. “Looking for a weapon? Not like you could kill me even if you had a gun. No, we’re gonna have a little chase. If you can make it back to the front door before I catch you, you can go home. Hell, I’ll even call you an Uber!”
You stare at him, trying to process what he’s saying through your shock. “What happens if you catch me?”
There’s that smoldering look again, and you reflexively squeeze your thighs together as he says, “I’ll fuck your pretty little brains out and drink your blood.” 
Your breath hitches, your chest is heaving as you breathe harder, preparing to run. He smiles and says, “I’ll give you a one minute head start. Now go!”
There’s no hesitation as you rush out of the kitchen, sprint through the dining room, and down a corridor. When you get to the end of the first corridor, however, you can’t remember which direction to go. You take a chance on running left when you hear the dining room door open. He’s already coming! 
You stop around a corner and pull off your high heeled shoes. They’re too hard to run in, and they make a lot of noise on the tile. You backtrack and leave the shoes at an intersection where two halls meet, leaving it unclear which direction you went, then take a right down a corridor that looks vaguely familiar. 
As you run toward what you hope is the exit, you can’t help asking yourself if you actually want to find it. You’ve been drawn to Keigo since you first met him, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him to absolutely rail you. He even acknowledged that fact out loud. If that was all he wanted to do, you’d be running toward him. But drinking your blood? Would that kill you? Or would he just take a little? 
You hear footsteps, and panic makes you dart into a room along the hall. It looks like a bedroom, as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle but with less modern touches. In fact it could be a king’s bedroom from some medieval drama. 
On one wall is a large portrait of a man you mistake to be Keigo at first. Then you notice his clothes are from a different era and his hair is styled differently. Maybe it’s the ancestor he was telling you about. Or wait… if he really is a vampire, he could be hundreds of years old! Maybe he actually was the ancestor all along. 
You feel a warm breeze and look over to find an open doorway leading to a balcony. Red curtains are swaying in the air, and as you watch, they occasionally part to reveal a lovely view of the city at night. 
Just then, the door to the room starts to open. How does he already know which room you’re in?! Maybe it’s his enhanced senses, but you have to hide. You head out to the balcony and wait, listening as he comes into the room. You’re running out of options! 
You back up until you hit the barrier of the balcony. You look down. This side of the castle overlooks a yard that seems way too far down. Jumping would be a big risk! But you don’t have any choice!
As Keigo appears between the curtains, stepping onto the balcony, you quickly climb over and let yourself drop. You hear his voice calling for you to wait, but then you’re falling through the summer night air. You squeeze your eyes shut and brace for the impact. You hear a strange sound, like wind whooshing over fabric, and suddenly your fall stops. 
You open your eyes, wondering why nothing hurts, only to find yourself in Keigo’s arms. Behind him, you can see two enormous red bat wings that have sprouted from his back. His golden eyes now glow red, and his sharp fangs are much bigger. Is this his true form?
“Gonna give me a fuckin’ heart attack!” he says as he flies back up to the balcony and lands, still holding you. 
You squirm in his arms. “Let go!”
“Hey, I already caught you! Game’s over!” 
You go still as you realize he’s touching you. Your body is curled against his surprisingly hard chest. His hands are warm on your shoulder and under your thighs, holding you up like a bride. You look up at his face, and he looks so gorgeous, all resistance melts away. 
Without a word, you lean up and kiss him. You didn’t plan it or even think about it. There’s a magnetism that draws you to him, and you can no longer fight it. 
He carries you back inside and sits you down on the bed, leaning over you and kissing your mouth as he unbuttons his shirt. He’s way more muscular than you expected, and your hands move to his chest, slipping beneath his open shirt. His own hands are working your dress up your thighs, to your waist, then up and over your head. 
His fingers deftly unhook your bra and pull it off you, and when you’re left in nothing but lace panties and thigh high stockings, he pushes you back onto the mattress. He lifts your legs and turns them until you’re lying perfectly straight in the middle of the bed. That’s when you notice the blood red silk scarves tied to each post of the headboard. 
Keigo takes each of your wrists in turn and kisses the inside, right where you feel your pulse most strongly, then ties a silk scarf around it, effectively tying your arms to the bed. You give an experimental tug, but the silk is strong. 
When finished, he looms over you, his shirt still on but open, his eyes glowing, his blonde hair being slightly tussled by the breeze, his crimson wings spread out behind him. You’ve never seen a more mesmerizing sight in your life. 
He grins. “Nothing hotter than captured prey.”
And as he begins kissing you again, first your mouth, then moving down your neck, you feel that familiar prey instinct of wanting to escape. You jerk at your bonds, even as you revel in the sensation of his lips on your skin, his tongue running over one hard nipple before taking it into his mouth. You feel a fang ghost over the tender flesh, and shiver. 
You feel instinctive fear, but you also feel an indescribable thrill ripple through your body. You’re trapped beneath a bloodthirsty vampire, but you’ve never been more aroused in your entire life. 
That’s why you don’t struggle or protest when he slides your panties down your hips and off your ankles, then spreads you open. You’ve been waiting for this, aching for this, since you first met him. You’ve been desperate for him to touch you, to feel his hands and mouth on your heated, quivering flesh. To have his cock inside you. 
“Do you know how hard it was to control myself?” he says, planting a few more quick kisses along your stomach as he moves down. “If I’d touched you on that first date, I would’ve ended up fucking you on a table at the cafe.”
You look down at him as he rubs your dripping slit with his thumb, and ask, “Why didn’t you?” 
He glances up, looking mildly surprised, then he grins as his fingers spread your folds and he gives the first lick, right up to your swollen clit. “I didn’t think that would make a good first impression,” he answers before drawing circles around your clit with his tongue, never quite touching it but teasing it mercilessly. 
You moan, arching your back, lifting your hips from the bed in an attempt to get his tongue in the right spot. “Ahh… please…!”
He pushes one finger inside you, curling it in a way that has you gasping. “Hmm? Please what? Is this little clit feeling neglected?” 
Again he licks a path around it but never on it, making you whine. Finally, he shows mercy and wraps his lips around the tiny nub, suckling it as his finger pumps in and out of you. Your hips buck at the sudden intense pleasure, feeling his tongue run over the tip of your clit, even feeling a hint of teeth grazing over it. 
You cum within seconds, moaning and shaking, your hands balled into fists. He draws back, slowly licking his lips as he unbuttons his pants. You watch with anticipation, eager to see the cock you’ve been hungry for all this time. 
It does not disappoint. 
It’s beautifully shaped, much bigger than you would have guessed considering his height, and glistening with tasty looking precum. He pushes your legs up, hooking them over his shoulders and folding you in half, then looks you in the eyes as he pushes himself in. 
It feels incredible, his cock filling you up perfectly, rubbing you in exactly the right spots. When he begins thrusting, impossibly deep and hard, you can only let out little whimpers and cries, your mind going blank to everything but the pleasure of feeling him inside you. 
He leans forward, kissing you again as one of his hands slips around your throat. God, he’s beautiful. His glowing eyes stare into yours as his hand tightens, constricting your airflow, making your pussy clench around him in response. As you struggle to gasp in air, he runs his tongue along your parted lips and fucks into you even deeper. 
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he murmurs, his other hand maintaining a bruising grip on your waist for leverage. Just as you feel like you might black out, despite the hard fucking he’s giving you, his hand releases your throat. You take in gulps of air, the sudden rush of oxygen making you slightly lightheaded. 
And before you can fully catch your breath, his mouth opens wide, displaying the terrifyingly sharp fangs before biting down on your neck. 
You cry out in shock and pain, feeling his teeth tear into your skin as warm blood is sucked into his mouth. His tongue prods at the wound as his cock continues to ram into your drenched pussy. 
Well, there are certainly worse ways to go. 
As he repeatedly hits your most sensitive spots, a feeling of euphoria washes over you. The pain of his bite dulls, even as his teeth clamp down harder, and as he drinks your blood, you cum once again, trembling in his grasp. 
He pulls his face back, and his mouth is red all over, your life fluids dripping down his chin. His thrusts grow in intensity, an almost animalistic grunt escaping his bloody mouth as he fucks into you. A few seconds later, his mouth seals over the wound again, sucking out more blood as he shoves in even deeper, shooting his entire load into your womb. 
He finally pulls out of you, taking a moment to drink in the sight of your bound, bloody, fucked out form in his bed. Then he unties the silk scarves. 
“You okay?” he asks, his tone as casual and friendly as before. 
You wince as you sit up. You’re going to be sore for a few days, in a lot of places. Wait, is he not going to kill you? Drain you completely? Make sure you don’t tell his secret?
He seems to read your mind, because he laughs at your confused expression. “Don’t worry! I haven’t killed anyone since the 1500’s!”
You look at him incredulously. “Then what was the deal with that whole chase?!”
He tilts his head slightly. “It was fun, right? You really do have strong prey instincts. I don’t see that very often in the modern age. Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Especially when I saw how excited you were getting.”
You blush at that remark. “So what now?” you ask, sliding out of bed and looking for your underwear. 
“Hmm? I guess we plan our next date?” he says, his eyes returning to their normal golden color while his wings seem to retract into his back. He hands you your bra with a smile. “Unless you wanna dump me after this.”
“No, I definitely don’t want that,” you say, putting the bra on. You lightly touch your neck, feeling the sticky blood and torn skin, then hiss at the throb of pain. “But could you go a little easier with the bites?”
An apologetic look flashes over his face. “Sorry, it’s hard to control myself sometimes. I hadn’t fed in a long time, and arousal makes the bloodlust stronger. It should heal up really fast though. Something in vampire saliva makes their bites heal quickly.”
“Good to know,” you say, pulling on your dress. 
He’s smiling at you in that easy going way you find so charming. “Start coming over more often. If you get used to this place, our chases might last longer.”
You stop and stare at him. “Wait, you’re gonna keep chasing me?!”
He grins. “Only if you keep running, sweetheart.”
196 notes · View notes
buckrecs · 1 year
Text
2023 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙘 3
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masterlist | ✨- fav fics | status - completed
All of them are COMPLETE Series.
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1. Galavano by @ichorai
Bucky x Reader
a series that follows the hero galvano through the events of the mcu!
2. Time (D)rift by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor
Dark!Bucky x Reader Apocalypse AU
The end has come and gone as you keep waiting for your own.
3. Uncontrollable by @fictional-affairs
Bucky x Widow!Reader
The year is 1992. The Winter Soldier is under HYDRA’s control, and the Red Widow is under Dreykov’s control, but when they find out their organizations are working together to have them kill each other, they decide to make a deal.
4. The Lake House by @rustytricycle
Dark!Bucky x Dark!Reader
You decide to spend the summer before Freshman year of college with two of your girlfriends at one of their parents’ lake house. It turns out that Captain America and his two best friends are staying next door. Bucky thinks you might be his perfect girl. But are you too perfect?
5. turn a blind eye by @sergeantxrogers
Bucky x Reader
The Winter Soldier was cold. Brutal. Unflinching. A machine formulated to comply. Bucky Barnes was the sun warming your skin, your happy pill. Loving him was like bittersweet liquor, sickeningly sweet when you sip, harsh and burning when you swallow.
6. Rooftop Sessions by @forever-rogue
Bucky x Therapist!Reader
Y/N is a therapist that works with war veterans that ends up meeting a mysterious stranger who asks for her help.
7. it’s all fun and games, until you catch feelings by @prettyyoungtragedy
Bucky x Reader
You’re pining after Steve and Bucky is pining after Nat, what better way to distract yourself from those two perfect humans than to distract yourselves with each other?! Fuck buddies it is then.
8. oh my delightful heart by @prettyyoungtragedy
Sequel to it’s all fun and games
Bucky Barnes is the sweetest dumbest most adoring boyfriend any girl could ever ask for... 
9. Follow My Lead by @ciarawritesmarvel ✨
Bucky x Reader
You and your new friend Wanda are enjoying a day together at the Avengers Tower, her giving you a tour around the place when you both run into the infamous Bucky Barnes. Moments later, he’s introducing you to Sam as his girlfriend and placing a kiss on your temple and you’re not sure you’ve ever been so confused in your life.
10. The Maid of Mr. Barnes by @disasterofastory
Mob!Bucky x Reader
You get a job as Mr. Barnes's maid. You heard about the notorious gangster, but since you desperately need money and a place to live, you are not in a position to be picky.
11. Guiding Light by @wkemeup ✨
Bucky x Avenger!Reader
It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra. While you struggle to stay alive and hold your sanity, Bucky begins to lose himself to a darkness and gives into the soldier because he doesn’t know how to breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can.
12. Home | Better by @softlyspector ✨
Bucky x Reader Modern AU
Bucky comes home from his second tour overseas, after a long time away from the reader.
13. Mad For You by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend
Bucky x Reader Modern AU
Nat hosts a costume masquerade. Bucky meets the Alice to his Hatter. Shenanigans ensue. 
14. Sanguis Sanguinis Mei by @captainscanadian
Vampire!Bucky x Vampire!Reader
It took Bucky Barnes two centuries with the blood of his blood to realize how much he loved her. This is their story. 
15. Another World by @sinner-as-saint
Alien!Bucky x Reader
In a futuristic world - a millennium from now, you and your team rescue and care for stranded and hurt otherworldly beings; who are held captive and kept on Earth against their wills. You save them from the bad guys who exploit them. You help them adjust to your planet’s life, and give them their freedom back. Then one day, while on a rescue mission, you come across a human-like extraterrestrial being; in a cryogenic chamber, with a missing arm. And nothing is ever the same again…
16. Picking Up The Pieces by @gogolucky13
Bucky x Reader Modern AU
Bucky chooses to stay in his tumultuous relationship knowing you’ll be there to pick up the pieces, until finally you’re not.
17. Knight In Rusty Armor by @revengingbarnes ✨
Knight!Alpha!Bucky x Queen!Omega!Reader
For the sake of politics and to get rid of you, their omega daughter, the King and Queen of England marry you off to the King of France. Settling into an unfamiliar monarchy is a tedious process all by itself, but a new problem arises soon after your arrival at your new home. One of the Knights turns out to be your true mate. Your Alpha. The one you are meant to be with. But you’re mated to someone else. And that someone else is the King of France.
18. The Escaped Bride by @marvelouslytrekking
Pirate!Bucky x Reader
Being forced to marry someone was not something you wanted, but when it turns out that it is to your best friend, who you secretly loved, things weren’t so bad. Unfortunately, good things don’t seem to last and when the worst happens, you refuse to sit around and be miserable. Will you find true love again, or will your life be turned upside down?
19. Plot Twist by @winterarmyy
Mafia!Bucky x Reader
An arranged marriage with mafia!bucky.
20. The Road Goes Ever On and On by @rocketrhap3000 ✨
Bucky x Single Mom!Reader
Life as a single mother of a three year old certainly has its struggles. But when a sweet stranger makes his way into you and your little boy’s life, a one of a kind connection sparks.
21. you’re my desire by @marvelouslizzie & @notafunkiller
40s!Bucky x Reader
Your best friend drags you out on a double date. You were supposed to be Steve Rogers’ date but plans change pretty quickly and you end up in Bucky Barnes’ arms.
22. Death Do Us Part by @sgtjbuccky ✨
God Of Death!Bucky x Mortal!Reader
For centuries, the God of Death had known two things about mortals. One, they were his job, his to collect when their days came to an end, and two, they were obnoxiously odd beings. Their purpose ceased to make sense to him. Never did he understand why they created a life for themselves, why they loved, why they loved other mortals when they knew that none of it would last forever. It was nothing but sheer stupidity, but that was until he met you. A mortal unlike any other. A mortal that would make him question everything. A mortal that would teach the God of Death how to live.
23. Lost In Each Other by @majestyeverlasting ✨
Dad!Bucky x Mom!Reader
For Bucky, one of the best things to come home to is family. Especially after a day at work. So he's pleasantly surprised when you want to show him a new dress after dinner one night. And it just so happens that little Eden and Jamie find a way to work themselves into the equation. But it all makes for good fun and memories you will never forget.
24. Fight For Me by @littleseasiren
Bucky x Reader
After years in an abusive relationship, you finally get out. When the Avengers decide to raise awareness for your Battered Women's Home, you bump into Bucky Barnes, the hottest, most complicated man you've ever met. He thinks you're too good for him, but when your abusive ex reappears, Bucky knows he has to keep you safe - by any means necessary.
25. call me baby by @cherryrogers ✨
Biker!Bucky x Reader
Returning to Brooklyn for the summer after a year of travelling from city to city, you hadn’t expected to find your best friend, Peggy Carter, hopelessly in love with a biker, and when she decided to introduce you to the rest of his club, you hadn’t expected to fall for one either — that was until you met one with pretty eyes and a habit of calling you baby.
26. Static Verse by @theconstantsidekick ✨
Bucky x Enhanced!Reader
Tony Stark's sister's a fucking badass, codename—Static. Here's her story through the MCU.
27. Bygone by @borntobewondering
Bucky x Reader
You and Peter get sent back in time, and you fall in love with someone unexpected.
28. Clockwork by @aries-writingblog ✨
Bucky x Reader
Bucky has moved on. He’s found a place in the new world of the 21st Century. Found peace. But the past is always half a step behind him, waiting to snatch him backwards- like clockwork.
29. Deny the truth, set the world on fire by @lizatill
Bucky x Reader, Dark!Winter Soldier x Reader
He knew that she was having an affair...she denies, but the love marks on her body are still there. She can't tell him the truth, it will break him - the Winter Soldier is indeed inside of him, fucking her at night and Bucky doesn't remember.
30. Carnations by @viollettes
Bucky x Reader College AU
It’s a simple concept: Students can buy flowers for each other at the carnation sale. Red flowers are for love, pink flowers are for friendship, and white flowers are for expressing secret admiration. A carnation fundraiser, an iota of possibility, and a longtime secret crush on your hot best friend - what could go wrong?
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