#thank you ethel cain
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sweetnnaivete · 16 days ago
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if it's mean to be then it will be. if it's mean to be then it will be. if it's mean to be then it will be. if it's mean to be then it will be. if it's mean to be then it will be. if it's mean to be then it will be. if it's mean to be then it will be. if it's mean to be then it will be. if it's mean to be then it will be. if it's mean to be then it will be. if it's mean to be then it will be. if it's mean to be then it will be. if it's mean to be then it will be. if it's mean to be then it will be. if it's mean to be then it will be.
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immessingaround · 11 hours ago
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nothing in my heart
is hoping youll come back
too cold to know what
i dont have without you, no
without you
and every drop of blood
is love
i dont get back
bated to take the love that i gave away to save you
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grahamcore · 5 months ago
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ethel cain’s performance at the greek last night was fucking silver springs 1997 historical
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starslupin · 1 month ago
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house in nebraska is such a perfect song what the fuck thank you ethel cain
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fleshlycolored · 2 months ago
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I just want to thank Ethel Cain for being Ethel Cain
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martyfive · 7 months ago
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i forgive it all as it comes back to me
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gladoswantscake · 2 months ago
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Need You, Crave You, Love You - Dracula x Reader (DBD)
Summary: In need of help comes with a price
Warnings: Captivity/kidnapping, horror, blood, mild swearing
A/N: This take place right before you are taken by the Entity
Available on AO3
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"I am no good nor evil, simply I am, and I have come to take what is mine." (Ptolemaea, Ethel Cain)
It happened so fast. One second, you struggled to see through the storm and found yourself in submerging water. You managed to escape your car after hitting the front glass multiple times before the cold water sunk you further underwater.
You swam until you felt dirt beneath your cold hands and slowly regained your balance. You took a moment to look around you. A large dark cloud illuminated by lightning with large spikelike legs emerged from the cloud close to you. Maybe you were seeing things? You turn away from the water and look for any light source within your view.
As the rain slightly lightens up, the harsh wind picks up. Strange deep whispers call out from behind you. You then turn to see fog emerge from the water and towards you. Your eyes widen, and you make haste through the wooded area.
Everything began to look the same the further you ran deep into the forest. You started to lose hope until a small light shined through the trees. A house not far from where you stood. Just a bit up the mountains.
As you ran closer to the house, your legs burned, and you lost all feeling throughout your body from the prolonged exposure to the frigid weather. Luckily, by the time you arrived, no fog nor sound was made; pure silence.
You gave the large wooden door a few sharp knocks. "Hello?!" You knock again. This time, the door slowly opens. You hesitantly poked your head inside, seeing the large and empty place only accompanied by several lit candles to light the inside. The storm isn't letting up anytime soon, and the longer you stay outside, the more you risk dying from frostbite weather.
The large door shuts behind you. It's much quieter now since you were out of the storm.
"Hello?" Your voice rang out.
The room you stood in consisted of old architect of carved dark wood and large antique paintings. It was a rather beautiful room, and whoever lived here took great care and pride in their home.
Only taking a few steps deeper into the room, a voice startles you.
"Good evening. I bid you welcome." The deep voice says.
You whip your head towards the voice. A tall man stood just a few feet away from you. "I'm sorry for walking in here. Your door was unlocked." You apologize. "I got into a bad accident from the storm. And my car is gone. It was the closest place I could find help."
His eyes never leave you as the tall man walks towards you. "An accident?" He questions.
"Y-Yes, sir." You stutter from the cold.
The man's skin was pale, just not as pale as yours. His long white hair slightly swayed with each step he took. His white facial hair was sharp-looking and neatly groomed. There was not a single flaw on his face, and his attire was odd. It wasn't something you'd see today. It looked as if his evening attire was from centuries ago but better tailored. The colors he wore were deep red, crimson, and black, which perfectly suited his figure.
"My condolences." He places his hand on his chest.
"I'd hate to disturb your evening, but do you have a phone I could borrow to call a friend? I can be on my way."
He smiles and lets out a short chuckle. "My dear, I'm afraid a phone does not exist within the walls of my home." His eyes travel down to your drenched clothing in a stalking manner.
"Rest assured, you have not disturbed my evening." He begins slowly walking around your shivering self. "Although you are an interesting guest." His voice lowers as he makes his way behind you. A hint of an accent can be heard in his voice.
"I'm sure I have been an interesting individual: Showing up drenched and injured." You made a weak laugh to bury the anxiety.
He finally circles back, facing you. "Injured?" He raises a brow.
"I honestly don't know where exactly. It might've been my shoulder when I crawled out of my car window. I'm too numb to know, but I can manage it if it's just a scratch. Do you have any bandages I can patch myself up?"
The man's lips slightly grow upwards upon hearing your injury. "Of course. Please follow." He turns his heel, and you follow him into another room. The halls were dark and slightly warm. It was much better than the outside.
"Your home is beautiful." You say. I see you put in a lot of work."
He turns his head and smiles. "I take great contentment into making my sanctuary a place of comfort."
He leads you into a brighter, lit room. The fireplace gives the room a better view of your surroundings. He guides you to a large couch to sit on.
"I am surprised you have not dwelled into fear. Mortals who've stumbled upon me would have cowered."
You watch him light a few large candles. "I don't think you're intimidating." You glance around the neatly organized room: A couple of large bookshelves and a few pieces of sitting furniture.
"Intimidating? He finishes. He strides towards you. "I am pleased to hear that." He sits down next to you, just close enough for his clothed knee to brush against yours. The rich and smokey fragrances coming from his attire made your heart flutter. "Tell me, is it my presence that's intriguing you? Making your heart thump so loud?"
You stared, not knowing what to say. It felt like your words became twisted whenever you tried to speak. The longer the man's eyes never left you, the worse your heart beats. You could feel your cheeks flare up the closer he closed the space between the two of you on the couch. His aroma was entrancing you.
He takes his hand into yours. "Tell me," His thumb traces over your veiny hand. "Is my presence causing you to feel so strained? Or perhaps you've never met a man like me?"
He could read your mind, expressions, and thoughts so well. You couldn't think of anything to reply to him.
The warm heat from the fireplace thawed your freezing body, and you now feel warm liquid travel down your forearm. You slowly look down, seeing a dark crimson liquid paint your pale arm. It looks like you did cut yourself really well.
He looks down at your arm. A good amount of blood was running down from your shoulder, where you complained earlier. A smile creeps upon his face. "My you are hurt..."
His pale, slender fingers gently wrap around your forearm, causing you to tense up due to his cold hand. His other hand collects a sample of your blood with his fingers, bringing it to his lips to taste the warm metallic flavor.
He takes a minute to savor the fresh, lukewarm blood that was exposed to his tongue. He then hums to himself, "Your blood is so pleasing to taste." He slightly leans in towards you. His cold hand remains on your forearm. You could finally see something even more off: His eyes, a bright amber color. His other hand finds its way to your face, and his fingers cup your chin.
"Such lusciousness and magnificence you have presented to me. You remind me of my previous lover." His fangs finally appear with a large grin. "I need you."
"You get the fuck away from me." You finally speak.
Without giving him a second to respond, you shove him with all you might with your free hand. The feeling of his sharp fingernails digging into your forearm caused you to yelp. Ignoring the pain, you quickly bolt out of the room.
You ran to the front door to open it, but it wouldn't budge. You cursed to yourself. You didn't have a second to think as you heard him call out for you. With no other choice, you ran as far as you could within the dark manor.
He's never had a human captivate him so much. With the isolation swallowing him whole for many years, his craving for another being became intense. Perhaps it was why the isolation made him behave the way he did. He wasn't going to kill you. No. He was determined to make you his and part of him. It'll take time for you to surrender, but he has plenty of patience.
You hid in a spare bedroom. The room was cold and dark. Thankfully, a full moon shone through the window, allowing you to see the room. You locked the bedroom door and walked up to the window. You could see the strange cloud from earlier, only closer to you now. You quietly attempt to open the stubborn old window.
You tried to lift the window a few times, but it wouldn't budge.
"No, no, no." You whine. "Open, damn it!" Anger formed into tears as you soon discovered there was no way out.
Then his voice came from the other side of the locked bedroom. The stinging pain from your forearm caused you to look down. You didn't realize how much you bled. That was why he was able to find you so quickly.
"Go away!" You cried out. You pulled your bleeding arm to your clothed chest to try to prevent yourself from accidentally making a bigger mess.
He could hear you break down into pathetic sobs from the other side. "Please don't fret, love. My intentions aren't to hurt you." He reassures.
"I just want to go home."
"I'm afraid your loud pleading cries fall on deaf ears." His hand wraps around the doorknob to twist, only to find out you locked the door. He chuckles to himself. "This will only make things difficult if you keep this door locked. All that I ask is to see you."
Momentarily, no noise came from the other side. Then, soft footsteps grew louder towards him. The lock on the door slowly clicked, followed by the door opening. You stood before him, sniveling, knowing your fate. Your puffy eyes look up at him. You frown through tears.
His brows lowered as he raised his thumb to brush a tear down your cheek. A small smile forms on his lips, big enough to display his fangs, knowing he has you in his grasp. Your soft, fragile skin and eyes remind him so much of 'her.' He's waited so long to have someone that showed any resemblance to her. Maybe God grew bored of punishing him for centuries.
He takes pity for scaring you. "I apologize for my behavior. It's just been so long since I've seen something so exquisite before me." His thumb traces your warm cheek. "You have no idea how long I've waited for you." His accent thickens.
"Please…" Your voice let out a pathetic plea to him.
"What is it that you yearn for, my dearly beloved?"
You wince as you feel his warm breath hit your ear. You could feel his lips travel to your neck, leaving feathered kisses.
His fangs teasingly gently graze your puncturable neck. He could feel your veins pulsating beneath his sharp teeth. He was greatly aroused by it. He knew better than to turn you. It would be selfish of him. But he couldn't risk the chance of losing you. He'll convince you to join him. He'll make sure of it.
"H-Home." You whisper.
"You do not feel at home? With me?"
You wanted to say no but couldn't. You feared that anything you say that didn't align with what he wanted to hear would upset him even more. "What...are you?"
He pulls away from your neck. "A vampire."
"You...you're real..."
"I'm sure you know my name from the stories you've heard about me."
His hand lowers to lift up your uninjured hand. His cold lips kiss your knuckles. He takes his time feeling his lips against your skin and taking in your faded aroma. It's been a long time since he felt the touch of another person who he craved for. He couldn't let you go.
He lowers your hand and cups your jaw. "Let me take care of you." His free hand slithers around your waist.
It felt like you were in a trance. You couldn't move or speak. Only watch him tenderly touch you as if you were an injured animal.
"Stay with me, and I will give you anything you desire." Your body is pulled closer to his. "Let me make it right."
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lornemalvo · 3 months ago
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show me how much i mean to you, while i'm lying in these sheets undressed ♰
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postnutperfection · 11 days ago
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What’s frustrating about the whole Perverts title issue is that it really boils down to people sticking their noses where it doesn’t belong. If everyone minded their damn business on the internet this wouldn’t even have to be a conversation. Its ok to be a lukewarm fan of someone, but I think TikTok has made it feel like you either have to stan someone and be a keyboard warrior in their defense 24/7 or you can’t like them at all. The whole “debate” gets to a point where it feels like im talking to a wall! Even if you didn’t listen to the rest of the album, you have to scroll to find Strangers! Did you not see the literal song titled August Underground on the way there! Hard Times is about CSA! Strangers is literally about her getting eaten! She literally gets cannibalized! I feel that maybe perchance the whole concept of Preacher’s Daughter should be more shocking then an album called PERVERTS
and I know, i knowwww, this has something to do with those motherfuckers on booktok romanticizing every sick and abusive asshole thats somewhat conventionally attractive. I’m sorry but correct me if im wrong but Strangers (at least to me) is not a love song. While Ethel may have loved him and while she may not feel hatred or resentment towards him lets be honest he did not eat her because he loved her, he did it because he is a bad person who does bad things and took advantage of a girl who has known nothing other than abuse. He groomed her and moved her across the country only to drug her and pimp her out and then when he was bored of her he killed and ate her.
I’m just so sick and fucking tired of these stupid ass motherfuckers thinking that they have the media literacy of Jesus H. Christ himself and that think they’re sooo fucking smart when in reality all you have done is taken a BEAUTIFUL and HEARTBREAKING piece of ARTWORK and watered it down for mass consumption. All you’ve done is slapped a pretty little label on it and put it on a shelf to sell to the masses and now the meaning and intention behind it will wither away. Don’t get me wrong, I love TikTok, I think it’s a great place to learn and share and create and find new interests but it gets to a point where it feels like its just a giant cesspool of braindead people talking about how a wood flooring is so “ethel cain lana del rey coquette naturecore maximalist anti-millennial grey girl boss power move”
I know this probably ended up being a incoherent ramble that says a lot and nothing at the same time but I really just had to get it off my chest because holy fuck you guys lets use our brains! hellooo lets lock the fuck in and really do our best to have some sort of competent level media literacy
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immessingaround · 17 days ago
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thank you ethel cain, leonard cohen, snooki, and the phrase "fresh out of fucks forever".
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0utlaw-t0rn · 3 months ago
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I’m selling prints now! If anyone’s interested in purchasing any of these three drawings as prints, there’s a link in my bio :)
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starslupin · 1 month ago
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do NOT hit me up i’m having my after period breakdown and i’m listening to house in nebraska
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witchydespoina · 2 months ago
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Miku Ethel…Hatsune Cain….you get it….
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aplaceforyourhearttorest · 19 days ago
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Don't Ya ♱ Kirk Hammett (18+)
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Part Two of Blood Is Pretty
Mentions/Warnings: oral sex, sixty-nine, blood sharing, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, kirk's labret piercing
The short travel of the two floors you have to go up seem like seconds, in comparison to the minutes you have to wait for him to follow after you. Within the distance and with his bedroom door mostly to a close, you can still hear the strum of his guitar, James' vocals reverberating and echoing along the walls, and their sounds of relief as they finally finish up their rehearsal for the night. It's almost pitch black once you hear his footsteps ricocheting off the wooden staircase, and by then your top and bottoms have been removed and discarded, and the only item of clothing you have on except for your underwear, is one of his oversize shirts. Your eyes are flitting themselves over the small culmination of your items lined up against his dresser and his horror movie posters taped onto his paint spattered walls, when he's pushing the door open and leaning himself into the room.
The hurried and lust filled gaze he left you with downstairs is gone, and once again, he just looks like your best friend. Short and ringed curls stick themselves on the edge of his cloying forehead, and his breath unsteadily lifts his chest as his eyes fall to rest on you. The right end of his sleeve is almost resting in your inner elbow, and the neck cuff is tickling itself against the top of your shoulder blade. You freeze in your attempt to get up from lying on your side on his bed, and you halt your movement with all of your weight relying on your left forearm as his dilated pupils travel over the expanse of you. There's a stint of weighted silence, and then he's pushing off of the side of the door and making his way over to you. The sound of his booted feet sound even louder than usual on his carpeted floor, and you allow yourself to fall back pliantly as he sits on the edge of the bed, and in the curve of your arched front.
You tilt your head to the side as you look up at him, and whatever nervousness you somehow ended up with while waiting for him, evaporates while he looks down at you. His look is soft and gentle and exploring, and he easily gives in when you curl a fist into the fabric of his shirt and use it as leverage to tug him down. The second contact of your lips this evening is tentative and hesitant, featherlike, yet it gains momentum and strength as you curve yourself into his warmth and mold your legs alongside his waist. The hand he's not using to hold himself up from fully lying down on top of you, comes down to entangle itself in the mane of your hair, and you obediently open your mouth as his tongue comes out to lick along your bottom lip. There's a hint of alcohol in his mouth alongside iron, and your hunger reignites, with your own appendage elongating to trail over the entirety of his mouth. His hand purposely slides down, and he lightly places himself on top of you, until you're both chest to chest, and his groin is right against yours.
The small breaks you two take for breaths are stolen within the next, and dewlike strings of saliva break and land on your chin when he disconnects with you to peer down into your eyes. His lids are hooded, and his lips are kissed and sucked red. The hand he has in your strands tightens marginally, and you twist with the movement, your soon to be bruised lips lifting with the answering and praising groan he lets out as you do.
"Did you get yourself ready for me?" He asks you, his voice no louder than a husk of an aborted sound. Your nod feels slurred and slow, and your legs tremble with excitement. You want to tell him that you've been wet and prepared for him since the first drop of his blood made contact with your bottom lip and then your tongue, or maybe even before then. But your mouth only opens in a silent greeting, and its soon to be teased with his digit again. The taste of iron is mostly gone as his skin has begun to slowly start to heal, but the redness around it is enticing enough, and he moans as the tip of your tongue flits against the small opening of his wounded flesh.
Brown and russet curls come down to blanket over the sides of your head, and you're grateful for the red light you turned on before you got into his bed, because you're able to see the way his mouth molds into an expression of ecstasy. The calloused skin around his cut brushes around the delicate and irritated skin of your lips, and it presses in as he grinds his hips against yours. The lack of your pants and the thin material of his shirt and your underwear, has you choking around a shocked gasp, and his lips accentuate into a knowing smirk.
"There you go," Kirk commends, and your jaw slackens as his digits are moved away from your mouth, and as they travel down to flatten themselves on the hem of your nearly see through cotton. Warmth bleeds into your middle, and you spread your legs as wide as you can with him on top of you. Your head is raising from the bed to chase after his as he pushes himself back up onto his knees, and his hand in your hair stops you in place, before letting go to meet with his other. "Let me take my time with you."
His words are gentle sounding, yet you know they aren't a suggestion. His shirt is bundled up and folded underneath your breasts within seconds, and you flush a deep pink as he hungrily licks his lips. "You think you've been the only one craving something you thought you shouldn't be able to have? To allow yourself to eat and enjoy?" Your knees bend with the pulse that comes from in between your legs, and you can feel as your essence bleeds out and is absorbed into your underwear.
"I didn't know you were hungry." You weakly respond, and your stomach muscles contract as you force yourself to stay still. Hot to the touch and roughened palms press themselves into your flushed skin, and you eagerly lift your hips as his fingertips bend to collect the top of the cotton. The first cool cascade of air making contact with your bare sex has a shiver wracking itself through the precipice of your spine, and your legs tighten around him as he sits back to push the ruined material down to the tops of your knees.
Your sharp inhalation is trapped within your throat as he lifts both of your legs to remove the item fully, and you almost shy away as he presses them forward and into your body. You look down and watch as he stares at the glistening shine of arousal proudly displaying itself against your pussy, and you reach forward to grab onto the hand nearest to you before he can descend down.
"I want to taste you too." Is transcending out of you in a whisper, and disbelief and wonder fills his eyes, before he's nodding along and using his hold on you to carefully flip you onto your knees. His shirt rides up and falls and frees itself over your head, and your tits are nearly fully exposed as you hear Kirk hastily undress himself from behind you. The sound of his boots being kicked off and roughly landing on the floor has you jolting, and then an excited and anticipatory smile is making dormancy on your face. There's a zipper being pulled down and the fabric of a shirt being removed grazing your left ankle, and then his hands are back. Stable hands are securing a hold onto the backs of your knees, before you feel the bottom half of his bed dipping in, and you're slid multiple feet backwards.
A sudden and loud pelt of shocked laughter escapes you, and then its hastily swallowed as Kirk's tan thighs are presented from underneath you. Your fingers fist the soft and bunched material of his duvet, and your clit throbs as a gentle caress of a soft and hesitant breath is making contact with the underside of your ass. There are a few inches of safe room in case you want to change your mind, and Kirk's hands loosen their hold around you as you flatten yourself onto his upper chest, and as you slide back until you're face to face with his dick. Its resting and pearling on the top of his pelvic bone and flushes a bright red at the tip, and you flatten yourself down fully, until you're no longer arching, and you can feel your pussy almost graze his awaiting chin. Wanton and the need to feel him and have him in your mouth overwhelms you, and you untangle your hands from the duvet to rest your hands on the sides of his happy trail. Your knees relax into the soft material, your stomach rests against the beginning of his, and you cry out as the tip of his tongue makes a teasing appearance on the lips of your dripping sex.
"I'm starving." Is what he nearly sighs, like he's content and tense at the same time, and then he's moving forward. A shrill is pierced out of you at the collision of his sopping wet and ready tongue eagerly making its way through your folds, and you shakily tilt your head downwards, before licking your lips and pouting them open. The first glide of his tip against your lips feels foreign, but as you steadily take your time and inch him further into your mouth, instinct takes over. The salty and tangy pearlescent taste of him covers your mouth, and you do your best to relax your jaw as the weight of him helps you keep your mouth fully open. The slight suction that comes with you enclosing your lips around his shaft has him groaning against you, and the vibrations have you sliding forward and swallowing around his tip. His cockhead bleeds pre-ejaculate at the beginning of your tongue, and your eyes water at the welcomed intrusion. Kirk laps and sucks at your clit incessantly, his labret piercing making contact with your opening, and the sensation has your legs tensing and your hips bending down to begin to push into his face.
You slide both of your hands over to lightly fist him, and partially raise your upper half as you twist them in opposite directions while tonguing at his weeping slit. His legs writhe underneath you and spasm, and your eyes burn with satisfied tears as he beckons you to ride his face and use him. His tip slides out from between your lips as you glide back the distance of the expanse of his tongue, and you cry his name as a tether of tightened heat threatens to break in your lower groin. The hands you have around him tighten, and you try your best to continue as he grips onto your ass and guides you back and forth. Your spine forcibly straightens and goes ramrod straight, and you shudder around a wail as you cum against the tip of his tongue teasing your entrance. You slump forward and desperately gasp for air, having to scoot yourself forward and out of his grip as he tries to continue to eat you out. Your pussy makes audible sound as it messily connects with his contracting and heaving stomach, and your eyes shut as his hands come up to run themselves soothingly down your sides. Your eyes tearily blink as his dick jumps in your loosened hold, and he hisses as you absentmindedly run your thumb over his blood red tip.
"Come here." He instructs, and he carefully turns you around until you're facing him. Your slick is covering his mouth, chin, his piercing, and the upper half of his neck, and without giving yourself a second to doubt it, you unsteadily lean forward to lick his chin clean. The slightly musky taste of yourself is grounding and uplifting at the same time, and the grip he has around your middle tightens as your tongue flicks against the labret to lap it clean. His mouth descends down onto yours, and the mixed taste of you two has you both moaning and hungrily licking into each other's warmth. Despite your lust laden kiss and his stabilizing and strong grip on your hips, you two are able catch your breaths. You rest your forehead on his and laugh around an aborted exhale, and you relax in his hold when he joins in soon after.
"Are you still starving?" You hum, and his eyes pierce yours as he looks up at you in question. You bring your bottom lip into your mouth and run it against your lower incisors, before carefully biting down. The slight taste of iron has you letting go, and Kirk opens his mouth to welcome you back in without even hesitating. The taste of your blood has him tensing in your hold, before he's sliding his hands back to press them into your spine, and then he's forcibly parting your lips with an eager tongue. Your bottom lip is sucked into his mouth and lathed and latched onto, and your eyes close in bliss as he takes in your taste like you'd done with his earlier.
Your clit reawakens and pulsates in between your legs and against his stomach, and you let yourself take by grinding yourself along his smooth skin. The hands he has pressing you down become more pliant, and you lean back enough to be able to move your hips in long and slow, fluid motions. Kirk reluctantly leans back to rest his head fully against the bed, and his eyes are enlarged and darkened as he watches you steady yourself with trembling hands on his chest. His lips have a small red patch of your blood on them, and you bend down to lick them clean, before straightening out your spine again.
Confidence and endorphins run through you, and you boldly pause your ministrations, before bringing up something you had on your mind before he came upstairs. "Earlier, you told me to use you, to get myself off." Your voice sounds hoarse and overly used, and the roughness of the swallow has you hungrily reminiscing on the earlier weight you had of him in your mouth, and almost your throat. Kirk hums, seemingly so enraptured with you looking debauched on top of him that he's unable to speak. You can feel the tip of his still hardened dick on your ass from where you're rested, and you're reaching back to grasp onto his left wrist before you can even finish the conversation you started.
"I want to use your fingers, and then I want to ride you instead," You restart, and satisfaction blooms in you as he begins to look thrown off kilter, and then enamored. He's leaning up to guide his held wrist towards the wide gap in your legs, and then pausing just centimeters away from where you're nearly dripping, and now straddling him. You allow your own fondness to seep into your tone, and the look in his eye softens at your next words. "You've always made me feel good and looked after, let me do the same for you."
You wait for his answering nod, and make sure to maintain eye contact with him as his middle and ring fingers find purchase on your swollen clit. You instruct him to rub at your nub and gasp around a slanted attempt of his name, and you whimper praises as the same fingers tease their way through your folds, and into the entrance of where his piercing almost slid into. The mental imagery of the small, sharp barbell teasing at your entrance has you gripping his wrist in place and hurriedly riding his fingers, and Kirk moans with you, as if he's sheathed inside of you instead of his digits. A second orgasm threatens to overcome you, and you halt your thrusts before it can, wanting him to be the one filling you up, rather than his second and third, calloused knuckles.
Your hand is loosening and letting go of his wrist, and Kirk's groaning at the first brush of your fingertips against his nearly purpling shaft. You shift back until you're positioned right on top of him, and you lower yourself down until his cockhead is resting right under your beading clit. You temporarily let go of him to collect some of your slick, and then fist him again with a sopping hand. He's tensing underneath you and leaning up against his elbows by the time you have him nearly dripping in your essence, and his cockhead is pressing itself into your opening. "You can use me as much as you want and for however long you want to, baby. But please, do something." The plea in his voice is desperate and a complete juxtaposition to how he was in the bathroom earlier, and his expression slackens as you slowly lower yourself down onto him. The stretch of him is unfamiliar and shocking, and you have to steady yourself with a hand on his pelvis by the time he's halfway in.
Kirk's eyes are nearly shut in relief and him visibly holding himself back, but he's still aware enough to lower himself onto his back and rest his palms on the expanse of your tremoring thighs. You both sigh in relief once he's fully sheathed inside of you, and the light dusting of his pubes bring a grounding friction against your sensitive sex. "I always pictured us like this." You admit, breathless and already aching, yet still ready to feel even more full. A punched out sound leaves his chest, and his kiss chapped lips gape open with the exertion.
"Me underneath you?" He's rubbing small circles into your skin as he asks you, and his touch tightens as you raise your hips until he's nearly fully outside of you again. You shake your head and keen as you feel a shared droplet of your guys' dripping prerelease fall down near his raised ballsack, and as you audibly lower yourself back down. You have a steady rhythm by the time you realize you haven't answered him yet, and you plant your feet underneath you as you fuck yourself onto him up and down.
"Us feeding from each other, feeling closer," you pant, your hands reaching back to encircle themselves around his ankles for leverage. You feel his cockhead brush up right against your spongelike spot when he raises his feet and presses them into the mattress, and you wail as your hands slide up to grip onto his knees for purchase instead. An etched out cry escapes you at the new depth and sensation, and your knees snap shut as he starts thrusting up to piston himself inside of you. His grunts are gut deep and satisfying sounding, and he's reaching up to yank you up and down his length with his hip's movements. "I've wanted this since before I can even remember." You finish around a sob, and you desperately grasp onto his forearms as the force and finesse behind his impalements nearly have your feet lifting from underneath you.
The familiar and rapid coil of your second orgasm is barreling into you, and you blink around overstimulated tears as things turn from you using him, to him giving himself to you in a way you've always wanted and craved. Kirk's curls are fanned out around him and stuck on his forehead and chest as he exhausts himself, yet his eyes are glued on you. Unmoving, and taking in every single shift in your gaping and sweating and satisfied expression. He catches onto the desperation and the wetness threatening to fall from your eyes, and his movements intensify. "You said you wanted to use me, so how about you take me giving myself to you instead," he cants, his words steady even as his chest heaves and his hold against you tightens for more depth. You force yourself to hold onto him tightly and just take it. Every deliberate plunge, every sharp thrust he throws in against your spot, every rough pinprick of his nails in your skin as he holds onto you. "You say you wanted this, you want to be closer? Just fucking take it. Take it all away from me, then."
You're unable to speak as your body forces your eyes to roll to the back of your head, and as your orgasm causes your vision to whiten out in their peripherals. You tense and you tremor, and sweat cascades down your blushed red skin, and you hold on. You whimper and wail and mewl as Kirk continues bury himself inside of you, over and over again. Every press and pound and slam into you brings you even closer to him, and by the time your third orgasm is approaching, your legs are numb, your chest is pressed against his, and you're struggling to breathe. Kirk's pressing against your lower back with one hand while his other grips onto your ass, and with his last few thrusts, you two cum together.
His seed spills into you, and he grinds around a curse as your walls flutter and convulse and constrict around his length to milk him dry, and attempt to keep him inside. Red light emanates and saturates the bedroom of your best friend, and your teary and unfocused eyes land on the poster of the movie Stab. In bold lettering underneath the title, it says, this is gonna hurt.
You recollect on the years you two spent throwing yourselves into getting injured and being fascinated with Kirk's blood, to wanting to get closer to him, while not necessarily knowing how to. But now, as you lay on top of his shaking and unsteady figure, with the taste of shared blood in your mouth, with him still fully buried inside of you, and his hands pressing your flesh flush against his, you accept it. You accept any type of pain that comes with life, as long as you can be with your best friend, and you can have the taste of him saturating your tongue.
"Happy Halloween." He's grinning out once he's stable enough to not have to talk around a stammer, or the aftereffects of his strong orgasm. You repeat the same to him and lift your head in confusion when he begins to shift around, and your eyes roll in disbelief as he raises a ghostface mask he had been hiding underneath his bed. Pushing away from him with mirth as he tries to put it on with one hand, as his other attempts to keep you on top of him, you grin widely as he instead just rests it on top of his face in defeat.
"What's your favorite scary movie, Sid?" He purposefully gravels in a drawl, and you two fall into another round of laughter at your response, before you temporarily lift the mask to give him a chaste, yet long lasting and deserving kiss.
"Stab."
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daughter-horror · 3 months ago
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theres something very ethel cain southern gothic hannibal bones and all midnight mass florence welch about you and i love it
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gossippool · 30 days ago
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just realised new year's day by taylor swift is so poolverine and now i'm violently ill
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