#the only indicator hes a vampire

[misstycloud]

Imagine yandere vampire hunter finding out he married one of the creatures he vowed to destroy. The very monster he dedicated his entire life to kill.

“…no..i-it can’t be..” his voice was barely a whisper, but you heard it loud and clear as if he was right next to you.

You stood still in the darkness, your face was a mask of indifference. If you hadn’t been blinking he would have mistook you for a statue. It appeared you’d been careless and let yourself be seen- by him no less. You could still feel the warmth of the blood dripping down you chin; a curtain of red fell down the front of your dress and stained it.

“Please tell me this isn’t real..” your husband let his eyes wander to the soon-lifeless body laying not far away. Small puffs of air was seen coming for the person, indicating they were not yet dead. The disgusting sound of gurgling in one’s own blood sent a shiver down his spine. His eyes met yours, searching for any sort of confirmation that everything was indeed a figment of his imagination.

“It is, I’m afraid.” You said.

He let out a devestatd choke, muttering ‘no’ over and over while shaking his head, clearly in denial.

You reminded yourself not to show any emotion and stepped forward. “I will not lie to you and therefor I will utter the clear truth in front of you. I am a vampire.”

“No, no you’re not.” He refused to believe it. If it had been his friend, he would prioritise duty before friendship. If it was his brother, he would do the same. Even if it was his own parents, he would die before letting insensible things such as emotions to come in the way of doing what is right. But this was different. It was you. It can’t be you. It could never be you.

But it was. Clearly. The evidence- the body- was right in front of him, unblinking and unmoving.

“You cannot look away from what is in front of you-“

“Stop saying that!” He suddenly shouted, surprising you with the sudden change in tone. “You can’t be one of….them.” He expressed in great repulsion.

Despite knowing how evil your kind is, you still though of yourself as quite good- well, as good as you can be when you’re a blood sucking, murderous creature of the night. So your husbands disdain awoke some sort of defensiveness in you.

“Wel, I am. And I have been for a while now.”

He seemed to think for a moment. Then he asked, “how long? How long have you been a…a vampire?” He furrowed his brow at the end, not believing he’d ever connect ���you’ and the word ‘vampire’ in his life.

“36 years. Not as long as some others, but it should still count as something.”

“Oh god..”

It meant that you were one since the start- no before- your marriage. Was he truly that blind? Had love taken such hold of him that he could no longer do his job properly?

How many vampires had he killed during you union? All that while simultaneously being wed to one himself. While loving one, caring for one and even making passionate love to one. It was like some fucked-up punishment tailor-made for him.

He knew what he had to do.

The first tear fell down his cheek, betraying his stern expression and showcasing his endless sorrow. “You are evil,” he raised his crossbow, “and now you have to be judged for your crimes.” How ironic of him to talk about committing crimes of slaughter as if he wasn’t doing exactly the same. He wasn’t stupid, not all immortals were pure darkness, it wasn’t that simple. They do what they have to in order to survive. Only some killed more than they had to. Still, it didn’t change the fact that they all need to be destroyed.

Your eyes widened when he pointed the weapon straight at you. You expected this. Of course he would kill you. However, a part of you could not stop from hoping he wouldn’t think of you as a monster. That perhaps you’d finally find somewhere you can call home and be accepted for what you are. It was a naive dream. Weren’t you his wife before you were a monster? Apparently not, because an arrow shot at you at incredible speed. It hit you in the arm and you cried out in pain.

While you had physical advantages, it doesn’t mean you are immune to pain.

Ripping it out, you studied the black liquid staining it. Your husband swore and immediately prepared to launch another. You felt your fangs grow in length and you hissed at him. Throwing yourself at him the two of you rolled around on the floor, each trying to restrain the other. You managed to get ahold of his crossbow and threw it away form his reach.

Your husband quickly dug into his pockets to grab a dagger, and tried to stab you. Luckily you stopped him in time, fighting him with your vampiric strength. You had to give it to him, he was surprisingly strong for a human. Despite you having supernatural gifts, he was definitely a match and you had a hard time holding you down. If it was any other situation you would have been impressed and rather seduced by his sheer strength, unfortunately this was not a good situation for you.

You leaned down, planning to bite him, but his fast reflexes let him use his free arm to keep you at a distance. He was now on the floor with you straddling him and trying with all your might to end his life.

Your husband knocked your heads together which was the distraction he needed to kick you off of him. You clenched you forehead in pain and backed away. But there was no more time to dwell on that pain, because it was minor compared to what you felt next. Agony was in your side, accompanied by the dagger you had previously defended yourself against.

Your lover was close. Enough for you to feel his breath, and enough for you to see tears running down his regretful face.

“Why was it you?”

Whether he referred to you being a vampire or you being the one he married, you did not know. It hardly mattered anyway.

In a way, you did love your husband. It was probably not in the normal spousal way but it was there. Maybe if you weren’t a blood-sucker you two would have been truly happy together. Too bad fate had other plans. Even though it was true that you were probably evil, you wanted to live. And despite the one threatening your existence was none other than the man who’d showed you the devotion and love you thought you’d never find again, this was not where you wanted it to end.

With a shriek, you used all your power to push him as hard as you could. He flew backwards into the wall. You supposed he’d fainted from the force since he wasn’t making any move to get up. You clutched your side and groaned. You had to get out of there; somewhere safe.

You stumbled to the window and put your foot on the ledge. The dagger he’d stabbed you with must be silver, otherwise it wouldn’t have made as much damage. The wound in your side burned and sizzled with pain. You had no idea if your body would be able to fully heal you in time for when you need blood again- or even at all.

“Ugh….”

You heard a cough from behind you. It was your dearest. He must be sturdier than he looks to have woken up so quickly. He had rolled over to lay on his stomach and had his arms pathetically stretched in your direction.

“D-don’t go.”

You scoffed at his audacity. “What, so you can finally finish me off?”

He whimpered pathetically, “ N-no, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have done that- why did I do that?” The last part appeared to be a criticism on himself. Nevertheless he continued, “please, I won’t do it again. I was wrong, you’re not evil I know that, I don’t know why I said that. I’m so sorry, please..”

A frown adorned your face. “It’s okay. I’m not evil, but I know I’m far from good- I’m not that delusional.” Then you turned back to the view of the outside world.

“Wait, no-“

“I have to go. I really mean it when I say this, ‘thank you for all these years together, they have been the happiest days I am now able to remember’.

“My love, don’t-“

You ignored his pleas as you jumped from the window. You landed in the dirt outside. You looked back at the house which you’d just escaped from and as you prepared to run off to another town and build up a new life (until you’d eventually have to run again) you listened to the scream of the man who’d been your husband for six years.

What was he screaming? What else if not your name.

-

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

ANIMAL INSTINCT

PAIRING: logan howlett x vampire mutant!female reader

RATING: explicit | WORD COUNT: 2.3k

SUMMARY:

after helping you out by letting you feed from him, logan asks you to return the favor.

part two of bloodthirsty

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

thank you for all the love on bloodthirsty! here’s a nice and smutty second part. big thank you to @guiltyasdave for reading this over for me 💕

TAGS/WARNINGS:

explicit sexual content (18+ mdni), x-men (2000) logan howlett, able bodied reader, vampire mutant!reader, no use of y/n, single POV - reader, primal play (chase/capture), gratuitous use of growling/roaring, light fighting, mentions of blood, biting, rough sex, semi-public sex (in the woods), oral - f receiving, unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms, creampie, dirty talk, blade play (the claws come out).

Logan finds you in an empty hallway one afternoon, about two weeks after your encounter in the kitchen. You made the mistake of making eye contact, leaving you unable to turn and pretend you didn't see him like you've been doing since that night. 

"You avoiding me or something?" he says, hint of a smile on his lips. 

"No," you reply quickly. "What makes you think that?"

"Haven't seen you around much lately."

"Just busy."

"Right." He looks away for a moment, hands on his hips. "Look, I got a proposition for you."

"I don't--"

"I got this issue--," he continues, ignoring your response "--where it gets to be too much, you know? And I helped you out so--"

"What are you talking about?" you interrupt.

His voice drops a bit lower. "We're predators, right? And I don't know about you but sometimes my prey drive can be...too much, if you catch my drift."

"Okay..."

"And I got two words for you - quid pro quo."

You blink at him. "Logan, that's three words."

"I thought pro quo was one word."

"Why would you think that?"

"We're getting off topic," he says, waving his hands. “Think you can help a guy out?"

"Help you...how, exactly?"

You agree to meet Logan at the edge of the dense forest that surrounds the X Mansion at nightfall and as you walk through the grounds blanketed in darkness, your senses begin to feel more alive. Anticipation courses through you and the further you venture from the mansion, the darker the night becomes.

Logan is already there when you arrive, tension rolling off of him in waves. He gives you a tight smile.

"Took you long enough," he says. You roll your eyes.

"I'm still here, aren't I?" You gesture to the forest. "So, what now?"

"You run," Logan replies. "I hunt."

The deep timbre of his voice sends a shiver down your spine. What he's asking for goes against your nature but some deep part of you is eager to please. 

You take off through the trees, running as fast as your legs will carry you across the soft forest floor. With your enhanced speed, it's not long before you're miles from the manicured mansion grounds, surrounded by gnarled roots and a thick canopy of leaves that blocks nearly all light from the moon.

You slow to a stop, catching your breath. The snap of a branch is the only warning you get before Logan's heavy weight barrels into you, sending you both tumbling to the ground with him coming out on top, smiling down at you, a wild glint to his eyes.

"Gotta do better than that, bub," he says. He stands up, holding a hand out to help you to your feet. "I'll give you a head start this time."

"I don't need a head start," you grumble. "I'm faster than you."

He laughs. "We'll see about that."

You start running, his laughter ringing in your ears. Your path is less direct this time, weaving through the trees and doubling back to leave your scent in more places and crossing a small creek with the hopes that the running water helps to cover your tracks. You grow comfortable enough in your lead that you begin to slow down, keeping yourself attuned to the sounds of the forest and any changes that might indicate Logan has found you.

The trees break into a vast clearing, tall grass swaying in the breeze. Moonlight trickles past the branches, stripes of faint light illuminating the floor. You take a moment to appreciate the tranquility of it, but the calm is short lived when you catch movement at the corner of your eye.

Logan steps through the trees. He's removed his shirt, thick muscle glimmering with sweat, his chest heaving with labored breath. Your mouth goes dry at the sight and for a moment you really do understand what it's like to be prey, faced with something so deadly it's almost hypnotizing, impossible to look away even when you’re in danger. He stalks closer and you feel frozen in place, unable to move a muscle.

"Found you," he growls. 

Your survival instinct kicks into gear and you attempt to run away, sprinting across the glade with renewed vigor. If you can make it back into the forest you know you could shake him loose again, but staying in the clearing makes you a clear target. 

Logan roars, the sound loud enough to shake the branches of nearby trees. You risk a glance over your shoulder and are met with the sight of the man on all fours, running towards you with single minded determination. He rapidly closes the distance with impressive speed, wrapping his arms around you and taking you down to the ground for the second time that night.

You grapple with him, landing a kick to his chest that gives you the chance to crawl out from beneath him. He reaches a hand out for your ankle and drags you back toward him, using his weight to hold you in place. You wiggle an arm free and strike at his face, though he dodges and your fingernails scrape against his neck, leaving red gashes in their wake that heal in the blink of an eye. He pins your arm to the ground above your head.

"No more runnin’,” he says, a command that shoots straight to your core. You know he’s not talking about just tonight, but rather how you’ve been avoiding him. 

But how were you supposed to face him when the only thoughts you had of him since then were about how sweet he tasted, how good he felt, how much you wanted more, more, more that you couldn’t possibly ask him to give?

Your inner turmoil is lost when his lips slam against yours in a kiss that’s hot and hungry, stealing your breath with its ferociousness. His teeth sink into your bottom lip and you gasp at the sharp sting of pain that lights up your nerves. There’s nothing gentle about it, but you’re not gentle creatures and the beasts that pace and snarl beneath your ribcage have finally broken free.

Logan breaks the kiss to stare down at you with wild eyes. Blood, your blood, stains his lips and his tongue darts out to lick it away with a satisfied hum. He leans in close, burying his face in your neck, inhaling deeply, mouth open against your skin with the threat of sharp teeth over your racing pulse.

“Can’t hide it,” he says. “Not when I can smell it on you, sweetheart.”

“Smell what?” 

“How much you want it.” He nips at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, making you hiss. “How much you want me.”

Heavy hands find the hem of your shirt, shoving it up your chest until it’s bunched beneath your armpits. He pulls down your bra to expose your breasts and your nipples tighten at the sudden burst of cold air against your skin but his mouth is on you in an instant, warm tongue tracing the taut buds. Your back arches at the sensation and you dig your fingers into his thick hair, pulling at the strands. He hums with pleasure as he switches to your other breast, giving it the same maddening attention.

His palm slides down your belly, fingers dipping beneath the elastic of your leggings and finding your needy center, swirling through the mess you’ve already made in your underwear. You can feel the smug grin on Logan’s face before he even lifts his head to look at you.

“That’s what I thought.” He withdraws his hand, holding it up to his face. In the moonlight you catch a glimpse of the strands of slick stretching between his index and middle finger before he sticks them in his mouth with a groan, licking them clean. “Fuck, you taste better than I imagined.”

The metallic sound of his claws unsheathing reaches your ears and your pulse jumps as he drags the blunt side of a single blade up the inside of your thigh. The tip catches on the fabric covering your pussy and with one quick move of his wrist he slices through your pants. His claw disappears and he reaches down with both hands to tear the fabric further.

Logan settles on his belly with his head between your thighs, your legs propped up on his broad shoulders. He kisses your pussy over the soaked fabric of your underwear but

spares you any further teasing, grabbing your panties in a tight fist and pulling roughly until the elastic snaps against your skin and he holds the torn fabric in his fist. He tosses them aside and buries his face in your cunt, devouring you like a man on a mission. His tongue alternates circling your sensitive clit and dipping into your dripping entrance, expertly tracing every inch of you. You’re so lost to the pleasure that you don’t notice him getting to his knees until he’s lifting your hips, hands gripping your ass tightly to keep your lower body suspended in the air and his mouth sealed to your cunt.

“Fuck!” you cry out, muscles growing tense as your orgasm builds. It hits you like a tidal wave, coursing through your veins as you shout his name like a prayer. His hold remains tight as he works you through it until you grow boneless in the aftermath.

He lowers you slowly back to the ground and you fight to catch your breath while he quickly removes his belt and shoves his jeans down enough to free his cock. You watch him take himself in hand, a brief slide of his fist over his impressive length before he runs the glistening head through your sensitive folds, bumping your clit and making you shiver.

Logan’s gaze remains fixed to yours as he presses forward, breaching your tight entrance. Your body accepts him greedily, the slight sting and stretch barely a thought when all you can focus on is how full he makes you feel.

His lips find yours for a messy kiss while he begins to thrust, a slow drag of his cock from your body followed by a sharp snap of his hips that punches the air from your lungs. You cling to his shoulders, clawing at his skin. The scent of his blood invades your senses and your teeth begin to ache at the memory of his taste. 

Your teeth catch on his lip and he hisses but doesn’t pull away. Copper blooms across your taste buds and you can’t help the desperate moan that escapes into the kiss.

“Come on, baby,” Logan says. “Take a bite.”

You rest a palm on the back of his head, urging him closer, lifting your head and kissing his neck, licking the salty taste of him from over his fluttering pulse. You open your mouth, sinking your teeth into skin and muscle and vein until warm blood spills into your mouth. The combination of his blood on your tongue and his cock spreading you open sends you over the edge.

Above you, Logan growls, a deep rumble you can feel down to your marrow, some ancient part of you preening with excitement. He holds himself still as you clench around him. Your orgasm slowly subsides and you find the strength to unclench your tense jaw from his neck, gently licking at the blood that spills from the deep impressions of your teeth.

Logan sits up, cock slipping from your body and leaving you achingly empty. His hands grip your hips, forcefully turning your lax body over and hiking your ass into the air. He spreads your cheeks and the vulnerable position has your whole body growing hot.

“Hope you didn’t think we were done,” he tells you as he positions himself behind you, thrusting his length back into your body and setting a brutal pace that has you crying out into the night. 

One hand holds your hip with bruising force while the other settles on your shoulder, pulling you into every delicious snap of his hips. Your mind goes blissfully blank with the overwhelming pleasure building up inside of you for the third time.

He folds forward, his chest pressed to your back and his pace growing sloppy as he nears his own release. A hand curls around yours, a moment of intimacy that leaves you reeling.

Logan roars, hips slamming into a final time, dragging your last orgasm from you as his cock pulses with his release inside of you. A sharp pain on your hip makes you gasp and you notice his claws have extended from the hand wrapped around yours, sinking into the dirt.

“Shit,” he pants, sitting up after a moment. The loss of his heat makes you shiver. “I nicked you.”

You slowly move yourself into a seated position, muscles feeling like jelly, and inspect the area that the pain came from. Your leggings have a new slice in the fabric and the material is sticky with blood but to your surprise, there’s no wound to be found.

“You heal that quick?” Logan asks. You shake your head.

“Not usually.” You run your fingers over smooth skin. “Must have been your blood.”

“You think so?”

You shrug. “Just a guess. Never fed from someone with advanced healing factor.”

“You sayin’ I’m your first?” he asks with a smirk. You can’t help the laugh that escapes and his smirk stretches into a grin. Logan stands, fixing his pants and holding a hand out to help you up. 

“How am I supposed to get back into the mansion like this?” you ask, gesturing to your destroyed leggings. 

“Guess I didn’t think that through,” he admits. “Give me a few minutes and I can be back with some new clothes.”

“How are you going to get into my room?”

He turns to look at you, continuing to walk backwards.

“I’m a man of many talents.”

With a wink, he disappears through the trees. You sigh.

What have you gotten yourself into?

Thank you for reading!

LINKS

all masterlists | logan howlett masterlist | support for palestine

[elssero]

/ BITE ME

-elssero kinktober

✟ vampire!reader x sub!prohero dynamite, dom!reader, fem! reader, monsterfucking, bloodsucking, cumming untouched (kinda), overstimulation, public, m!masterbation. porn WITH plot. sorry it’s a lot of plot. (you attack him, slight violence) (apologies for any typos!)

pro hero dynamite- often described as a strong willed, stubborn, determined and valiant man- a role model to many. but most importantly- he’s incredibly overconfident.

he could guess that’s how he found himself in his currently situation. on a solo mission deep inside dark woods that he’s unfamiliar with- a mission that he was warned over and over again should have been a team up.

but he’s dynamite? the number two ranked hero? a symbol of power and strength. he doesn’t need backup or help on trivial missions like this. it should be easy, in theory- at least for him.

the brief he was given for this particular mission has minimal information- with each victim seeming to not completely remember the events of the night they were attacked, memories coming back to them in fragmented pieces.

the case involves a series of attacks that take place in a small, rural town. rich with folklore and community, on the surface- the location seems perfect. having a low crime rate and filled with life.

from what each victim can remember, the attacks seems to begin the same. the statistics of the assaulted immediately draw the hero’s attention- young people, ranged in their early twenties with eighty percent being men.

now normally, in cases like these that describe who seems to be a serial attacker, the victims, most of the time are women. and although it is not impossible, it it very rare that most of the victims are men.

this in itself interests dynamite. he feels stupid, and incredibly sexist for thinking it- but he can’t help but enjoy the challenge of taking down a villain who appears to be targeting men around his age group.

seemingly- each attack begins somewhat innocently. the setting of a bar or the local park being the beginning of the story.

the victims describe being approached by an entity that seems to take the form of a beautiful women. with eyes so enchanting they struggled to look away, a smile so captivating they couldn’t say no.

their lured- seduced into a forest, the same one he’s in now. they describe following the women as she leads them deeper into the trees, under the impression that she had a home- or at least a place for them to stay inside the woods.

as they move further and further into the forest, a piercing feeling of unease fills their stomach. an indication that something isn’t right, but when the women turns around and gives them a sly smile they can’t help but continue to follow her.

a shift happens almost immediately- the entity they were previously trailing behind seems to disappear in front of them, moving faster than able to understand by the human eye.

it happens in an instant, a cold breeze catches the victim, before their able to process the change she appears directly in front of them, pulling said victim towards her with inhumane strength.

if they’re able to see her- for even a second they would take note of her eyes, once captivating now glowing a deep shape of red- she approaches almost invisibly, illuminated only slightly by the glimmer of the moonlight. sharp fangs extrude from her mouth for only a second before a piercing cold slices their neck.

victims describe feeling something they can only describe as being drained, their life force being taken from them before they blackout- waking up the next morning on the outskirts of the forest, alone.

as far as the local authorities are aware, no one had died from these encounters, just severe pains and blackouts lasting upwards of a week.

what intrigues dynamite the most about this case is the way the victims describe their attacker- as someone beautiful, enchanting, even going as far to describe her as having ethereal beauty, somewhat otherworldly.

he can’t help but be interested, wanting for himself to see the mythical appearance of the entity who continues to terrorise this town. the assumption the commission have came too is that it must be a downside of a quirk. a quirk that forces the inhabited town feed on the blood of others in order to stay alive.

the cold of the night is beginning to affect bakugo as he wanders aimlessly through the darkened woods, the air is cool and thick with the scent of nature. his senses are heightened as his vision adjusts to the dim light. it makes every silhouette of the trees, every breeze of a branch appear more mysterious.

every step on the soft and damp earth feels purposeful, amplified by the surrounding silence. the deeper he ventures, the more disoriented he feels. the trees feel like their closing in, wait? has he seen that log before?

that’s when he hears it, a louder, heavier rustling of leaves, branches snapping under what sounds to be a prominent weight unlike any of the forest creatures he had encountered during his journey.

the hair on the back of his neck stands sharply as he whips his head towards the sound- not fast enough when he hears it again on the other side of him. he’s being surrounded, circled.

the forest seems to breath with him as he takes faster, heavier breaths, fighting the fear he feels inside the vast, dark woods, filled with whispers.

seemingly in a flash he feels a hand reach his back- his reflexes allowing him to turn towards to figure before he’s tackled, his back hitting the ground his a thud, closing his eyes quickly as he winces in pain.

the feeling of the hand on his back and the weight of the creatures legs beginning to straddle him make it clear he hasn’t been attacked by an animal, certainly not.

upon opening his eyes, he is met with a sight he hadn’t fully prepared for. you. illuminated only by beams of starlight that struggle to penetrate the dense canopy of trees surrounding you.

he can see you though, the glow of your red eyes captivate him, he knows he has the right person. you look down on him, hair drapes along your figure, looking up at you now, he feels as through the previous descriptions of your sightings don’t even do your intense beauty justice.

your mouth is agape, breathing almost animalistic, before you move your face down into his neck, taking a long, drawn out breath. when you move back to look at him his breath hitches, a smile evident on your face.

“your not from here, are you?” the smile on your face makes him feel uneasy, unable to move even if he tried due to your intense grip on him, he can’t speak.

instead you nod, taking his silence as an answer, thankfully. “cute costume.. what are you? some sort of hero?” the mocking in your voice agitates him.

he groans as he attempts to move- you only increase the grip you have on him in return. “oh come on hero- your really trying to run away so quickly? the fun part hasn’t even begun”

the vice you have on his waist with your legs only tightens, digging your knees into the ground to capture him properly. this isn’t the way this was supposed to go- you had him trapped before he even laid eyes on you.

helpless- a feeling dynamite does not enjoy, but with every struggle against your grip it becomes clear you aren’t letting him go anytime soon.

a pit in his stomach begins to grow- you won’t kill him, it doesn’t seem to be your style but he can’t help the fear- and the desire that pools inside.

it was foolish of him to wander into unknown territory- he knows that now as he watchesyou take in the scent of him- his eyes go wide when he feels your breath on his neck once again.

a giggle escapes your lips, thighs tightening around his waist, an increased pressure building in his pants, he feels pathetic.

rushing to force something out of mouth he attempts to speak to you- “w-wait!”- it comes out a little more breathy than he’d like.

“huh- so you do talk.” you don’t appear to be taking him seriously- instead aiming to mock- make fun of his resist.

“w-what are you?” it seems like the right question to ask- even if he can’t turn you in, maybe he could get more information to give to the commission. even if the story is ultimately too embarrassing to bear. “oh? me? are you sure your in any sort of position to be asking questions right now?”

he lowers in his head in response “you have put me in a good mood.. it’s a little difficult to explain-” he doesn’t fully understand what you mean, opting to stay quiet and allow you to continue “you might not believe me, but i guess you don’t need too- i’m a vampire.”

his mouth forms an o in shock- and confusion? his brows furrow slightly, unable to determine if your being serious or not “w-what?- like in the stories?”

“hmm yes i suppose so-” you don’t seem to be paying any mind to his confusion- instead moving your fingers delicacy along his chest.

“so w-what you just, feed on people?” he watched the movements of your fingers- as they rise and fall with every breath he takes-

“i have too” you seem amused by his questioning- he wonders if you’ve ever had to explain yourself before, you look down at his face now, noticing his red dusted cheeks “however it appears that you don’t seem to mind huh hero?”

he feels uneasy, the tone of your mockery going straight to his stomach, his pants tightening “you wanna give me your name hero?”

“d-dynamite-” you shake your head at that, clearing unimpressed by his answer “what about your real name?”

he takes a second to think about his answer- not finding any positive reasons to lie he continues “bakugo- katsuki bakugo.”

you analyse him for a second- trying to work out if he’s feeling the truth, you take his flushed expression as honestly “katsuki huh- that’s pretty cute- and there’s so much of you too-”

you move your attention away from his face, moving your hands around his frame, a hand coming up to grip his throat “how do you feel about letting me you drain you?”

his breath hitches- his stomach begins to flutter at the thought- his hips rutting up slightly as he imagines it “you wanna let me suck your blood? hm?”

his answer is immediate- it comes of desperate, worried if he takes too long to reply you’d leave him here- alone “o-okay- fuck.”

he feels your breath on his neck again, this time even closer, your nose inches away from his nape as you bury your face into him.

with a vice-like grip the feeling of your fangs  immobilises him, the sharp cold bite pierces the soft flesh of his skin and a flood of warmth spills into your mouth- “taste even better than i’d imagined-“

it comes out deep and gritty- matched with the groan that leaves his throat, you both seem to be enjoying this- “s-shit”

unable to control himself- his hips beginning rutting up against your own- the bulge in his pants feeling to heavy to ignore, moaning at the feeling of you against his neck, getting impossibly more hard when he attempts to move his hands but is stopped by your grip.

totally under your control- unlike anything he’s ever experienced before, the feeling begins to pool in his stomach even quicker- embarrassingly quickly.

sooner than he’d like- he’s bucking up with an increasing fast pace, you don’t make any move to help him- instead entirely focused on the blood seeping from his neck.

in a sudden move he’s cumming- dampening the inside of his suit with his seed as he continues to rut upwards- unable to contain his moans of pleasure.

this seems to grab your attention- moving your head away from his neck and lifting your hips slightly- he whines at the loss of pressure “oh? this is new.”

you take a moment to look at him- taking in his fucked out expression due to both his premature orgasm and his loss of blood “god aren’t you pathetic? the feeling of me sucking your blood made you cum hero?”

degradation- this is new to him, infact everything going on right is new to him, he’s not used to this feeling of submission, it makes his cock stir. “oh. f-fuck”

you think for a second- contemplating your options before you completely remove yourself from him, ignoring his plea “yknow- blood isn’t the only way a vampire can steal human essence.”

manoeuvring yourself beside him you delicately place your hands around the belt of his suit- teasing him. his eyes blow wide as you tug on his pants, taking his ruined boxers with them. he groans at the sudden feeling of the air against his cock.

gaping at him, you run your fingers up his dick- it’s long and thick, covered in cum from the ruins of his previous orgasm, you take some on your fingers and lick it off- all while maintaining intense eye contact- “i think this will do just fine- you wanna cum for me again hero?”

he can’t help the way his eyes roll back when you hum against your fingers- sucking them clean of his cum “y-yeah” the same feeling of patheticness washing over him “fuck y-you!”

a low chuckle comes from your lips-“hm i don’t think you mean that- look at you! made a mess all over yourself-” the sentence itself makes his cock twitch-

wrapping a hand around his dick- squeezing it slightly before before you begin to move your hand up and down- listening to his groans.

“o-oh fuck” his words come out disgruntled- his cock painfully hard as you work your fingers up and down it.

“what’s that katsuki? you wanna cum?” yes- yes god his head falls back at your words, mouth agape as he’s unable to control the sounds leaving his throat- doing nothing to stop you ruining him. “y-yeah!”

“how badly?” he groans in response- unable to deal with your relentless teasing- wishing nothing more than to cum again.

you stop your movements in an instant- he whines at the lack of stimulation “cmon answer the question katsuki? how badly do you wanna cum for me?”

it comes out in whines as he speaks- “s-so bad- ah!” his hips buck up into you as you begin to move your hand again- attempting to match your pace.

unable to control himself any longer due to the sensation your movements- and your words are giving him- he cums again- this time shooting ropes all over the pair of you-

you move quickly in order to catch it all, licking up his chest to catch the parts that landed there, you continue the movements of your mouth until it reaches the base of this cock- now red and twitching.

“coming all this way to deal with me too.. i’m starting to think that maybe you came looking for this” he shakes his head in refusal-

instead you begin to take long- slow licks from the base of his cock to the tip- teasing him relentlessly “you think you can give me another?”

tears breach his eyes when you take his tip into your mouth, tongue swirling around it- “n-no! can’t ! it’s too much!”

you remove yourself from him in an instant- tears now rolling down his face as he whines “are you sure?”

he’s too far gone already- completely immersed in your movements- embarrassment bubbling in his throat “no- no stop! touch me!”

you smile- a wicked one, you know you’ve got him. “i knew it- gonna cum again for me?” you dip back down- latching your mouth onto his cock yet again, hands move to grip his waist to stop him fucking your face.

“gonna cum like some touchstarved bitch for me huh?” you stop your attack on his dick only momentarily to speak before lunging down again- this time taking him fully.

it doesn’t take long to have him cumming again- thick ropes down your throat as both of your eyes roll back in pleasure- “thaats it- good job..” you allow the remaining seconds of his orgasm to rush though him- by the time he’s conscious enough to open his eyes your already stood up, fixing yourself.

“this was fun dynamite-” you take a look at him from the ground below him- dominating him as he pouts up at you-

“however, if you come around here looking for me again.. i can’t promise that you’ll be so lucky a second time round.”

he’s upset- upset that your moving away from him so quickly, upset that you seem to be leaving him“w-what? what do you mean?”

almost- you almost take pity on him, his fucked out face and the dust of red on his cheeks- he looks cute like this. that’s the problem. “was already hard enough for me to hold back this time”

you begin to walk away from him- ignoring how he seems to grasp himself up- fixing himself in the process“well- have a good one katsuki-” your voice comes out even more mysterious than before-

“s-stop! where are you going??” there’s longing in his eyes- already missing the effect your touch has on him- but by the time he gets up to catch you- your gone.

he whips around in circles- hoping- maybe to find a trace of where you went, failing miserably.

leaving him alone- in that same dark forest he first ventured to find you- he feels a sense of emptiness, alone with a pang of drowsiness that seems to hit him all that once. reaching his hand up to take a feel at the pain in his neck- he graces over the marks you left. cold, wet blood lacing his fingers before his vision goes black.

[brainrotcharacters]

now I need food (the dangerous situation that would take Sam acting like a military doctor and Vincent acting like a warrior prince despite the recent fallout for the sake of Porter and Treasure)

good night (me personally I want something traumatic to happen to Treasure so Porter can lose his shit and simultaneously be affectionate with them while Vincent and Sam at the side going

but that's just me)

[moonstruckme]

pls hear me out 🙏🙏 vampire!james is recently turned and doesn’t feed cause he’s such a sweetheart he doesn’t want to hurt anyone.

reader notices how weak he is and finds out he hasn’t been feeding and basically offers herself to him and it’s just really comforting and cute

Babe I hear you !!! I hear you soooooo clear (the voices omg, I was so excited to write this). Thank you for requesting!

cw: blood mention

vampire!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words

James never had a problem with eating animals before he became a vampire. You pointed this out to him, once, but he only said it’s different. You suppose it is. The chicken nuggets he used to devour came to him cooked, fried, and with sauces, utterly unrecognizable from what they’d once been. There’s no separating the live-ness from what James has to eat now. 

You spy on him over the top of your book. He’s sitting on the other end of the loveseat with your feet in his lap, massaging your arches through your thick socks while he watches a football match on the telly. His dusky skin had paled after he was turned a few weeks back, but he looks even paler than that now. If he were still human you’d think he was anemic. It’s four in the afternoon, and your ball-of-energy boyfriend looks as tired as if he’s ready for bed. 

“Jamie,” you say, and he squeezes your heel to indicate he’s listening, “can I ask you something?”

“Of course you can, lovely, yeah.” 

“Have you been feeding?” 

James stiffens at the term. “Mm, why do you ask?” 

It’s as close as he thinks he can get to a non-answer, and it’s an answer for you anyways. James can never stand to lie to you. It’s terribly endearing. 

You turn your foot to poke his abdomen. “I can hear your stomach growling.” 

His lips curve. He glances at you. “I’m not sure that’s how it works.” 

“Really? How does it work?” 

“I don’t actually have a clue.” James smiles, which was your aim. He’s been far too downcast for your liking, his new condition entirely to blame. 

“Well, you’re looking pale.” 

“I’ve been pale.” 

“Paler than pale.” You set your book on the side table, moving closer to him. You sit with your feet folded under you. “Also, you haven’t been going out to feed like you used to.” 

James finally looks a bit sheepish. You smile and cup his face in your hand. Though he knows you know, James has still been a tad secretive about the vampire business around you. He sneaks out after he thinks you’re asleep. You’ll hear the front door open and shut when he leaves and then again when he comes back, the kitchen tap running as he cleans himself up. You wish he’d just use the shower. You don’t mind him walking through your bedroom with blood and dirt on him if it means he gets to feel clean when he slips back into bed with you. 

You rub your thumb over his cheek. “What’s keeping you?” 

He sighs. His face weighs a bit heavier in your palm. You think this must be progress, and you repeat your ministrations to his cheek to encourage it. 

“Everything’s hibernating,” says James, a quiet shame underlying his tone. “The…things I used to feed from are gone, and I’m not left with a lot of choices.” 

You hum. “Well, you’ve gotta eat, Jamie.” 

He hesitates, and you give him your sternest look. 

“You do. What about the deer?” 

“They’re harder to catch. And…I…I just feel bad, you know?”

You nod. Take his hand and press a kiss to his palm. Your poor sweetheart. You know James hasn’t killed anything he’s fed from, but even scaring them and potentially hurting them for the time it takes him to feed rattles him terribly. He’s too good, good and kind down to his core, but you know he’s going to have to find some way to cope other than starving himself. 

“What about people?” 

James’ eyes round behind his glasses. “Wha—no, I—”

“I wouldn’t mind you using me.” 

He seems to falter for a moment. His thick brows draw together in stages, from disbelief to confusion and back again. “Angel,” he says, “I couldn’t do that.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because, it’s—it would be—” 

“Or maybe we could try someone else. Someone bad, like a corrupt politician or one of those people who siphons money away from charities.” 

“No.” 

“Then we’re back to me.” You smile at him, one part teasing and two parts genuine. “James, I want to. I don’t like seeing you like this, and I really don’t think I’d mind it.” 

James looks like he’s still having trouble processing. “You don’t think you’d mind?” 

“I don’t,” you repeat patiently. “I’m sort of curious, actually. It could be fun.” 

He looks, to your surprise, like he might actually be considering it. He’s gnawing on the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know if it’d be fun, angel.” 

“That’s okay,” you promise him. “I want to do it for you. You’re hungry, yeah?” You try to make your voice serene and persuasive, your hand coasting up and down his arm. “Let me help.” 

James looks you in your eyes. You hold his gaze. After a while, the fight seems to go out of him. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says. 

“Oh, baby.” You kiss him on his cheek, your heart bulging. “You won’t. It’ll be fine. How do you want me? Hair up?” 

He shakes his head. “It’s good the way it is. I think, um, it might be easier if you were in my lap.” 

“Okay.” You grin, lifting your thigh over his so you’re straddling him. His hands settle on your hips. “Are you romancing me? Is this part of it?” 

James lifts the corners of his mouth, but you can see the trepidation lingering beneath his smile. You do your best to soothe it away with your hands on his shoulders. 

“I want to be gentle with you,” he says.

“I bet you say that to all your victims.” 

“Sweetheart…”

“Sorry, sorry.” You’re nervous. You kiss his nose in apology. 

“If I hurt you—if you don’t like it for any reason, I want you to squeeze my shoulder. Okay?” 

“Okay.” You nod, trying to look certain. “Does it usually hurt?”

“I don’t think so,” James admits. “With animals, they don’t usually…move much after I’ve bitten them. I’m not sure if it stuns them or what.” 

“I’ll report back,” you say seriously. You glance down at the couch cushions. “Will it be messy? Should we go to the bathroom or something?” 

“No, I’m—I’ve gotten better at it. We should be fine here.” 

You smile at him, your pride genuine. “Sounds good.” 

James is starting to look worried again, so you kiss him. On the lips, as sweet as you can muster, and imagine all your love pouring through it. Then, you pull your hair to one side and bear your neck. 

His pupils splay out.

“Remember to squeeze my shoulder.” He sounds hoarse. One of his hands slips up your back to steady you beneath your shoulder blades. 

“I will,” you vow. 

James looks dazed, almost reverent. He wets his lips, and when he opens his mouth you see his tongue skim over pointed teeth. Some prey animal’s instinct sends a shiver of fear through you. Your blood hums with anticipation. But just before James’ teeth skim your neck, he pauses. 

“Jamie.” It’s soft, a murmur, a plea. “It’s okay. Do whatever you want with me.” 

He makes a quiet sound, like a sigh or a whine, and closes the gap. 

At first, it’s only like he’s kissing you. He’s exceedingly sweet about it, lips opening warmly over your skin, his tongue pressing over your artery as though testing the waters. He splays his palm wide over your back in silent warning before his teeth sink into you. 

There’s a sting, but you were ready for it. You keep yourself from wincing, from doing anything that would make James move away, and after a second the pain dulls. Everything does, except for the extraordinary feel of James’ mouth on you. 

“Oh.” Your mouth opens of its own accord, head lolling further to the side to give him better access. You want more, more of this, more of him. Your brain fuzzes and your heart pounds, every nerve in your body narrowing its focus to where James is sucking at your neck, lapping you up. 

You wind your arms around his neck, wanting to be closer to him, and his palm coasts up your back comfortingly. You feel molten, spectacularly, transcendently languid, like you could press your fingertips to his shoulders and they’d melt right in. You don’t, not wanting him to misinterpret it as your signal and stop, but after a while James’ arms are the only thing keeping you from tipping sideways onto the couch, and he stops anyway. 

He finishes with a few chaste kisses, and you think giddily that you weren’t too far off about the romancing. 

“Y’okay, lovie?” he mumbles into your skin. 

You hum in reply. 

James presses one more sweet kiss to your neck, almost a thank-you. He seals the wound with his tongue. A giggle bubbles out of you, one shoulder coming up to ward him off. 

“Sorry,” you say to James’ surprised look. Your head is starting to clear. “That part tickled.” 

His grin splits his face, one part tentative and two parts relieved. “Yeah? Are you really okay?” 

“Super okay,” you promise him. You can’t help grinning. “You were right, it didn’t hurt. That was nice.”

James’ expression eases, some mix of relief and interest in his gaze. “Was it actually?” 

“Mhm. I would be your blood donor any time, really.” 

James scoffs, but he’s clearly elated. He strokes from your hip to your ribs with a big hand, trailing tender kisses up to your cheek. You’re thrilled to see how much more energy he already has. 

“I don’t know about that,” he says in between kisses. “I’d still rather not make you my victim if I can help it.” 

“I didn’t feel like a victim, if that helps.” Your words go mushy as he reaches your lips, but you keep talking, wanting to make your point. “I just mean, I wouldn’t mind doing it again. Maybe when you’re lacking in other options.” 

“Mm, maybe. What was it like?” 

“Like a really good kiss.” 

James backs up from you to give you a dubious look. “Better than the ones I give you normally?” 

You grin. “Maybe a little.” 

His eyebrows shoot up and his mouth drops open, curving on one side. “Oh, yeah? Bold claims.” 

“I don’t know if you can compete with whatever vampire magic that was, Jamie.”

“My kisses are very magical. It seems like I may have to remind you how good they really are, though.” 

You shrug coyly. “If you think you can top that, you’re welcome to try. I mean, you’re really only competing with your—”

James is on you before you can finish.

[cheriecoke]

♰ pain reliever — okkotsu yuuta

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ KINKTOBER NO. 2 - vampire!yuuta

your vampire boyfriend can't resist the taste of you during a certain time of the month

contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, smut, period sex, vampire!yuuta, cunnilingus, blood drinking, slight teasing — 2.2k

a steady ache in your abdomen pulls you out of your previously deep sleep, the dull throb increasing with every second. it’s the middle of the night, and your eyes are still heavy with exhaustion, the back of your eyelids burning when you try to squeeze them shut once more. 

though, no matter how many times you flip to the other side, the pain won’t subside, not even a little bit. you’re left curling into a ball, glaring at the emptiness of the dark. 

beside you, the bed is empty, though that wasn’t unusual for the middle of the night. still, it would’ve been nice to curl up into another body, to feel your boyfriend’s large palm rub over your stomach, in the hopes that it would ease the cramps.

you shift onto your stomach and check your phone, already missing yuuta. it’s just a little over three, but there’s no messages from him, no indication as to where he’d gone for the evening. 

you contemplate calling him; but when your finger hovers over his name, you click your phone off and sigh. they’re just cramps—nothing you can’t handle on your own. this time of the month had come and gone a hundred times before. you just need a heating pad and some pain reliever, and that should be enough to lull you back to sleep.

with eyes that are half-shut, you lazily slump towards the door, feeling far too much like a zombie. the floor is cold under your bare feet, and you shiver, picking yuuta’s sweatshirt up off the edge of the bed to throw it on. 

the moment you open the bedroom door, a wave of overwhelming perfume assaults your senses, the mixture one of every fall aroma. it combines into a cloud of smoke and wax, and its too much, far too much. the smells nearly have you choking. 

in the living room, there are thirty different flames lit, spread across the surfaces. they illuminate the room with a haunting glow, showcasing yuuta, who sits in the corner of the sofa, contemplative. 

“yuuta?” you say, calling out his name. he clenches his jaw but keeps his eyes forward. with his acute hearing, he’d probably heard the breath you took when you woke up, and every movement you’d made after that. “the candles are giving me a headache, baby.” your eyes begin to water from the smoke in the air, and one by one, you start to blow them out. 

“no!” yuuta exclaims, and when you turn, his irises are darker, wide as they watch you move around. “leave them.”  

you frown, but blow another one out as yuuta squeezes his palms to his side. his back goes taut, straightening as tension stretches him thin.

“it’ll just make me nauseous.” there’s a sour taste growing in your mouth, a pain in your temple. you reach for the final three candles. they aren’t as strong, but they still fill the air, a culmination of pumpkin, vanilla and coffee. “i started my period.” 

yuuta’s eyes flash as he watches you bend over to blow out one of the candles, your lips puckering, before you move to the last flame. his gaze is careful, considering as your little exhale extinguishes the fire.

“i know,” yuuta says, grabbing your wrist before you can blow out the final flames. his dark locks are loose, falling over his paler skin as he licks his lips. a sharp gaze pins you, tracing from your forehead to your chin. “i could smell you all the way from the bedroom.”

you blink, swallowing at his predatory eyes, the way his pupils darken, sharp white canines curling over his lips. it’s easy to forget, truly, how dangerous he is. he’s sweet and caring—not like the vampires you’ve seen in the movies—but he is, still, a vampire.

yuuta lures you in, inching you closer until you’re beside him on the couch, your breath the only sound between you. “i thought you were…” you trail off, a part of your voice cracking. “didn’t you go hunt?” 

it seems like a strange word to say, but you couldn’t think of a better one. you suppose, at the end of the day, he is more of a creature than a man. his instincts ones of bloodlust, ones that he has to fight against every moment that he’s with you. 

“couldn’t leave,” he says, his voice coming out clipped. “tried to, but i just kept thinking of your sweet blood. tastes so good.” his hand rests on your thigh, fingers rubbing small circles near your hip. “are your cramps getting bad?” 

you look at him from under your lashes as he licks his lips, pushing you backward slowly, until your head hits the arm of the sofa. the palm on your body is cold, but it does little to cool your heated skin. 

“it hurts,” you finally nod, breathing heavily as he smiles, sympathetic to your pain. 

“let me help,” yuuta inches a finger into your waistband, slowly dragging down your shorts. his tongue darts out across his lip, hungrily, like he might have trouble controlling his urge to devour you. 

you swallow. when you still him with a touch to his wrist, he simply cocks his head, curious, his fingers still resting between your shorts. 

“get a towel first,” you say, but the request is ignored. he slides the shorts completely off, lowering his head. “you’ll make a mess.”

yuuta ignores you, salivating as he kisses from the crevice of your knee, up your thigh. he inhales deeply against your hipbone, the strong aroma of your arousal and blood almost too much for him. 

bowing his head, he presses his lips to your cunt, licking you through your panties, lapping at the spot of blood that had already begun to stain there. “i don’t plan on wasting a drop, princess.” 

a stuttering breath leaves you, and your head falls back as yuuta kisses you softly over the cotton. his tongue flicks out, warm and wet, licking a stripe through your folds. the thin piece of cloth sucks into them, blood seeping through. 

“yuuta,” you whine, impatient he takes his time with you, his long fangs catching on the flimsy underwear. 

“don’t want to go too fast.” finally, he glances up, stares at you with hungry, black eyes. yuuta drags your panties off, but he’s far too slow, teasing you. “you know how much i love sucking the blood from your pretty pussy, hm?” his voice comes out in a near growl, and his grip grows tight around your knees, spreading your legs further. “wait for it all month.” 

he runs a tongue over sharp white teeth, hungry at the sight of you spread out, bloody and bare, just for him. 

“even when it hurts?” you ask in a small voice, but yuuta smiles, his thick eyelashes fluttering. his dark lips curl at the corners, more mocking than kind, drinking you in.

“it won’t hurt for long, love.” yuuta kisses the inside of your thighs, licking every inch of skin he can manage to get his tongue on. “besides, you get turned on so easily when you’re bleeding.”

he pushes his tongue against your entrance, curling over your wet arousal. the kisses are with such care, reminiscent of the sweet boy you’re used to loving, the one who stumbles over his words and still flushes hot when you kiss him. though, that familiarity only lasts for a moment. once yuuta gets a taste of you, his hunger doubles. 

he sucks, hard, his lips around your clit, the pressure sending a wave of desire through your body. you reach down and grip his dark locks, in any attempt to guide him within your thighs. though, you’re under yuuta’s control completely, and he licks deep in you, gathering the clots of blood onto his tongue. 

“fuck,” he hums against your cunt, his nose nudging your clit as he curses. the vibrations of his words shake you, and instinctively, your thighs try to squeeze together. but yuuta is stronger than you—much stronger—and he keeps them spread apart, fingers leaving tiny imprints on your skin. “you’re so sweet. so good for me. never tasted anyone like you before.” he praises, but its hard for him to speak as he fucks his tongue into you, lapping at your juices like its the nectar of gods. 

you can’t think of anything to say, and a soft whimper leaves your lips, the sound of his name barely audible with your exhale. yuuta’s fangs are smooth against your hot body, almost soothing as he runs his tongue along your folds. 

“i’ll make the the cramps go away.” he says. yuuta’s been replaced by a much cockier, confident version of the occasionally awkward vampire. his fangs gleam as he looks up at you, and your eyes flutter shut, hardly able to focus on the sight of him sucking at your bloody pussy. “promise, princess. it’s the least i can do when you keep me so well-fed.”

you nod, humming, but the sound is lost as yuuta dives back down, the blood coating his lips, his nose, dark against his chin. he takes both your thighs and throws them over his shoulder, reaching deeper in your hole as you moan, far too sensuously for the silent room. 

“yuuta—” you start, but you don’t remember it feeling this good before, you don’t remember pain ever being taken from you so easily. the words die, and you begin them again. “your tongue—”

he smiles, tightening his grip as he sucks faster, harder. “feels better?” 

“almost,” you say, breathless. “it’s… not enough.” 

yuuta groans, but he pulls back, licking the blood off his lips. “course it’s not,” he says. “so greedy, sometimes.” he presses, small, quick kisses across your thigh, teeth grazing the skin, and slides a finger into you; then another. 

his fingers are long, far longer than his tongue, and he stretches you, your walls sucking them right back in. with a gasp, you squeeze your thighs around his head, but yuuta just sighs. 

“please,” he says, teeth against the soft skin of your thigh. “please, can i?”

he’s close to begging, even though you’re the one who’s desperate, and you nod, needing him to curl farther into you, to reach the spot that’s deep within you. the sounds grow louder, lewd as his fingers sink in and out of you, so thick within your tight cunt.

yuuta bites you, then, sinks his fangs into your thigh, and you nearly scream, arching up into him as you start to tremble. 

his usually white teeth stain a deep scarlet, and he groans against your body, pulling back to watch you. “want you to cum for me, nice and hard, okay baby? we gotta get rid of those cramps.” he drinks from your thigh again, and you’re so close, not even realizing that you’re thrusting your hips up to meet his fingers as he goes inside you. 

“y-yuuta” you say, taking two hard breaths when he abandons the open wound on your thigh, and returns to sucking your clit, rubbing you with just enough force. the ache builds up and up, and you’re right on the ledge, about to fall over, his name leaving your lips once more in a cry. 

“that’s it,” he says, pumping in and out of you, graceful and heavy. “oh you’re so pretty, you know that? i’ve lived for centuries, and in all that time, i’ve never seen anyone look as perfect as you when they cum.” 

you break then, squeezing his fingers as babbled words leave your lips in a moan. your entire body shakes, convulsing as you reach blissful release, and you slump back on the couch, your head hitting the arm rest.

yuuta slides his fingers out of you slowly, and then he sticks them in his own mouth, licking every drop of your blood and juices from his hand. his eyes are blown wide with lust, hazy and dark as he drinks you up. 

“i can’t get enough of you,” he says, his voice so hoarse that the words are almost nothing at all. “my sweet little human girl.” yuuta doesn’t move, but he’s so lost in the taste of you, even as his cock strains hard against his flannel pajama pants. “just right there for the taking. a warm body full of the most delicious blood. mine.”

you pull him close then, needing to kiss him, feeling his hard teeth bump against your own. he tastes metallic; it’s not as good as he makes it out to be. still, if it drives him crazy, turns him into an absolute addict from just the scent of you, you’ll gladly give him every drop he wants. a smile graces your lips as he groans into you, licking your mouth. 

“yuuta?” 

he pulls away for just a moment, blinking lust-blown eyes. “hm?” 

“my cramps are gone.”

tags: @satohruu @cha0thicpisces @kissesmellow21 @sukiischaotic @hinata7346 @annoyingpainterprincess

KINKTOBER 2023 MASTERLIST

btw this was going to be a toji fic and then he lost the poll ... i did not know there were so many yuuta fans following me

[thebramblewood]

When you're engaged in an intense stare down with damn near every vampire in town - and probably losing.

Featuring vampires by @itcrescentcrow, @fallstaticexit, @simsdaughters, @antiquatedsimmer, @vicciouxs, @moonwoodhollow, @skyalenesims, @living-undead, @moonfromearth, @queenmabsim, @mosquito-cove, @raye-sim and @evilgoof. Thank you so much for your contributions! I hope you don't mind my embellishments. And to everyone still waiting, I appreciate your patience and there will be several future opportunities! 🧛

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The Top Dog

Vladislaus Straud:

Founder of Forgotten Hollow, de facto ruler

Lilith’s estranged (it’s complicated) sire

Enjoys lurking (read: eavesdropping) from afar

Cagey about his past, claims not to recall his years as a human (if he ever was one?)

Rumblings of discontent with his antiquated  ways

Empire may be crumbling (if rotting, junk-filled castle is any indication)

(Lilith: And that god awful crow! It’s got to be as old as he is. Christ, the racket it makes!)

Veronica Aurelius:

Straud’s new protege (niece?)

Related through a distant bloodline (Lilith: Allegedly.)

Accomplished artist, historian, medium

Dreams led her to Forgotten Hollow (Lilith: Doubtful.)

Lilith’s replacement? (Lilith: He wishes.)

(Caleb: She looks sweet, but there’s a vicious streak beneath that glossy veneer.)

-

The Old Guard (Lilith: In other words, Straud’s minions.)

Elle DeVampiro, Inna Cents, Vlad Bloodvein:

aka The Nobles (Lilith: Fossilized Bitch, Slightly Less Fossilized Bitch, and The Inferior Vlad.)

Council of ancients who guard town’s borders from human trespassers

View vampirism as elite society: only most deserving should be initiated

Have hazing rituals to weed out weaklings

Never-ending blood supply flows from mysterious sources

Eternal life of ease has left them physically weakened, social status protects them

(Helena: Hazing rituals?

Caleb: Mind tricks. Intimidation tactics. Like humans, newborn vampires can be manipulated.

Lilith: Stop scaring her! A strong breeze could knock them over.)

Claudius and Marie Bouvet:

aka The Occult Hunters

Hunt spellcasters for their power

Hunt “exotic” occults (mermaids, aliens, fairies, etc.) to siphon and sell blood, consumed as an indulgent luxury

(Helena: Wait, you’re telling me mermaids and aliens are real?

Caleb: We exist. Is it really so hard to believe they do too?)

Hunt werewolves for sport (owing to centuries-long feud)

Sometimes hired to kill vampires if deemed a threat to community’s existence

(Helena: Werewolves!

Lilith: They smell like wet dog and taste awful.

Caleb: That hardly gives us the right to kill them.

Lilith: Oh, so we should just let them kill us?)

Elizabetha Bathoris:

aka The Gossip Hound (Lilith: She deserves a far nastier title. Sanctimonious cunt.)

Forgotten Hollow’s premier shit-stirrer

Rumored to bathe in virgins’ blood

Delights in spilling secrets that aren’t hers to tell

Loudly claims to be Straud’s “one who got away,” though unconfirmed by man himself

(Lilith: [scoffs] There’s only room for one delusional narcissist in that household.

Caleb: Lilith, please. At this rate, we’ll never finish.)

Carmela Castellano:

Owns sprawling private vineyard in countryside where Forgotten Hollow and Windenburg meet

Crafts exclusive (and expensive) blood vintages

Known for frequently dipping into her own supply

Hoped to raise adoptive daughter Pandora as protege

However, Pandora’s rebelliousness has led to household tensions

(Lilith: Nothing rivals the rush of feeding, but her blends come damn close.)

-

The Enigmas (Lilith: No one knows shit about them, and that’s how they like it.)

Dorian Vasile:

Born vampire, not transformed

Agoraphobic recluse, never seen to leave ruined cottage

Once prominent member of vampire society with many friends — and enemies

Fatal end to human love affair rumored to have led to voluntary isolation

Griselda Oreolo:

(Caleb: I wouldn’t recommend wandering any graveyards at night unless you want to meet The Bride.

Helena: The Bride?

Caleb: She can be quite ruthless.

Helena: As if I don’t already have enough graveyard-related trauma.)

An aristocrat transformed on wedding day, fated to dwell forever on what could have been

Cemeteries are her favorite hunting grounds

Not one for friendly conversation

Defends self first and foremost, no allegiance to other vampires

Nyx?:

Origins, real name, language unknown

Lurks the forest like a cryptid - quick, silent, and deadly

Known to kill men, disposes of withered bodies like a cat leaving gifts of mice for its owner (Lilith: Honestly, good for her.)

Interrupt mid-hunt at your own peril

-

The Challengers

Emet and Maxima Galvus

Obscenely wealthy tech CEO and “granddaughter”

Whispers they’re both much older than they look, by hundreds or even thousands of years (Lilith: I’ve yet to see any proof of that.)

Seem to purposely cultivate air of mystery, socializing little

Keep small coven as waitstaff

Emet fiercely protective of Maxima, though is he protecting her from world or world from her?

(Caleb: Don’t be dramatic, Lil. Yes, that stare of hers is unsettling, but-

Lilith: There’s nothing more aggravating than a precocious child. I don’t trust her one bit.)

Ulric Blüt and Herta Nacht:

(Lilith: I can’t believe you think they warrant serious inclusion. A delusional brat and his pathetic enabler are hardly a threat.)

A supposed demon overlord in the body of a child and his “14th Seneschal”

Taken deadly seriously by himself and no one else

Boasts Grim Reaper fears him, many assassinations dodged

Except his strangely devoted companion

Companion stealthily observant, formulating plans of her own?

Details of supposed coup TBD

Countess Maria Francisca Flores:

Mad vampire scientist (Lilith: [scoffs] An old woman doing science fair experiments.)

Claims to have transformed herself via scientific methods

Seeks to grow her “House Flores” with new vampires devoted to pursuit of knowledge

Unpublished manuscript on vampire anatomy

Old Guard disapprove, but for now human academics remain steadfast in denial

Currently studying cowplants, which scholars can admit do exist

(Helena: If she turned herself into a vampire, can’t she reverse-engineer a cure?

Caleb: I’ve asked. She’s incredibly tight-lipped about her findings.

Lilith: Because they’re non-existent!)

-

The Next Generation

Beginning in ‘60s and ‘70s, an influx of new vampires into Forgotten Hollow

Old Guard bristle at modernism but grudgingly admit transplants necessary to keep town thriving

Recent turnees or experienced vamps who’d rather evolve with times than stay stuck in past

Tend to form cliques based on shared subcultures

Enjoy mixing with humans, easily mistaken as such by undiscerning eyes (often a deadly mistake)

Less concerned with secrecy, hedonistic, impulsive

(Lilith: “Not coincidentally, shortly after we returned, what was once a trickle became a flood.”)

Example: Grunge Gang

Kiona and Nikan: trouble-making twins, street smart, book stupid

Vonny: stoner type, prefers when meals come to him

Clarissa: paranormal investigator turned paranormally investigated

Tara: wants to be good, surrounded by bad influences

Pandora: favors rock concerts over wine-making

-

Lilith: Did you get all that down? Rest up! The hands-on portion begins tomorrow.

[muntitled]

Clockwork | Park Sunghoon

Vampire!Sunghoon x Fem!Reader

Summary: “If there’s one thing stronger than your need to feast,” You lift that hand up once again, “-its your need to fuck."

Warnings: Language, Implied Violence, Dark Fic, Morally Ambiguous!Reader, Blackmail, Reader has a crush, Librarian!Reader, Implied age gap, Confrontation, Smut (+18) mdni, Blood Kink, Biting, Sadism, Masochism, Dom!Sunghoon, Sub!Reader, public sex, dub/Con, fingering, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Ownership kink, Pain Kink, Marking, Dumbification, Dacryphilia

Idek yall…

They are such stuff as monsters are made of.

That is the very last thing you are taught about Sunghoon.

That he is something to fear.

Predatory.

Killer.

But all you saw and all you’ll ever see is the boy casted in the shadows of library bookshelves. This is the setting that births your obsession- no- your love for him.

Every Thursday afternoon.

When the library has cleared out.

The only time he’s not with his family. The only time he’s alone.

Like clockwork.

“What do we have here?” A phrase you were obligated to say. Not many townsfolk valued literature and those that did, as per your boss, “needed to find every reason to come back.” Even if that meant mustering a robotic sunshine smile. As if you were a cashier at Starbucks and not a small town librarian.

How you managed to speak so coherently with Sunghoon looming on the other side of the desk remains a complete and utter mystery. If you were driven, otherwise, by the bundle of love knots in your stomach you might have stuttered foolishly and squeaked your way through scanning his books.

“Books.” He answers curtly, brusquely, leaving absolutely no room for further conversation- or interrogation, as it would apparently appear.

Sunghoon is not looking at you. His eyes - those endless golden voids-, are looking down at the mahogany desk you are standing on the opposite side of. You wish for more than anything to feel that otherworldly feeling of having those golden eyes focused completely on you.

What must that feel like?

To have Sunghoon’s sole, undivided attention.

You would soon have the unfortunate pleasure of finding out.

“W-Well I know they’re books,” You continue, stating this with an airy, light chuckle. A chuckle that indicated this conversation should have been over a long time ago and that you’re blatantly aware of that. Why aren’t you keeping your mouth shut?

“I mean- Well I just mean, you know it’s not everyday a 20 year old takes out,” You glance down at the book in your hands before sending it through the system, “Wuthering Heights?” Your brows furrow as you send a second one of his books through the scanner, “Turn of The Screw?” And the final, “Frankenstein-Mary Shelley?"

You quirk a questioning eyebrow up at him- one silently inquiring ‘what the fuck’s up with the archaic books, grandpa?’ But he, of course, is not sparing you a single glance.

Or wait- he does. But for the briefest moment.

"I enjoy literature.” It almost makes you keel over in inexplicable discomfort, the way the words were chewed on before they were forcibly spat out. You can see he is done entertaining your mindless spiel but for some weird, fucking stupid reason, you’re not done with him.

“Well yeah, sure. But I mean, the dust on these books are ageless, you must be the first man to borrow these in like, 40 million years-”

“21.” It is all he says. One little word that cuts your rant short like a heated knife. You glance up at him, hoping those dazzling eyes look down at you.

And they do.

Bloody, fucking, Christ. They do.

“You said 20. I’m 21.” Before you were about to ask how that could be the case- how Sunghoon could be older than you when you distinctly remember finishing high school the same year?

He decides to shock you.

“I got… held back a year. I was already supposed to have graduated.” You are not sure whether it’s the sprinkle of rain that has begun falling. Whether it was the weight of the impenetrable fact that Sunghoon fucking Park has just spoken to you more words than he’s ever said your entire high school career. Or whether-and this may exactly be it-you were affected by those blazing eyes that glided backup to look at you.

Not golden.

Blazing.

For the golden hues have simmered into something darker. They’ve literally bled into a darker shade of the gold-almost yellow hues in his eyes. The breath completely escapes your throat. This time he does not look away.

“R-Right. Of course. Sorry.” You had nothing to be sorry for. How could you ever have known any of Sunghoon’s and his weird friends’ ages when the only people they directly interacted with were the teachers and themselves? You could never have known Sunghoon was 21 and therefore did not need to apologise but… those eyes… they made you sorry.

“It’s just-” why the fuck, after everything, after all of that, is your mouth still moving? It’s like this was your only opportunity of bravery. Your only window letting through a sliver of courage before you would retreat in on yourself for the rest of your waning time in this town. Moving amongst the books like a spectre before you ran off to college.

This was your only opportunity.

“Well they’re all Victorian.” You finally let those words tumble out of your mouth.

You hear the sharp intake of breath.

“Bronte, James, Shelley.” You slide the books to him. “All Victorian… is this pattern the product of some trend I’m missing out on?” You chuckle lightly at the end of that, hoping to wrench one out of him too but you knew that was an impossible feat. Still, the chuckle drains down your throat when you hand him his books. Your fingers, still encircled around the hardbacks, brush over him accidentally.

“Jesus, are you cold?”

He pulls away quickly, evading eye contact like you’d turn him to stone. Evading your touch like your skin scorched his. “It’s raining. I-I could give you a ride-”

Sunghoon gulps visibly. In the span of a single conversation, those dark-golden eyes have stayed firmly on you but now they are prying you apart.

“That won’t be necessary.” He says, swallowing thickly once more.

“Of course.” You wave him off, immediately overcome by the embarrassment of your own presumptuous nature. Sunghoon's gaze drifts down to the books once more.

No. You can’t afford the dismissal. You can’t bear the non-verbal rejection any longer.

The faucet that is your mouth, just continues spewing.

“Vampires aren’t usually the ones being offered a ride, are they?” You turn your head, focusing on the raindrops shooting pellets at the tall library window. Your gaze appears far away but that’s what you want him to think. In your periphery, you see his eyes snap up from the mahogany desk with his head following; enough to make those dark strands bounce in surprise. You know you finally have him.

“I’m the victim,” You continue basking in the attention. Retaining more satisfying heat from his gaze alone than the husky fluorescent buzzing above you both. You are suddenly all too aware that the library is deserted.

“I’m supposed to be coaxed into your car. That’s how it works right? Like Bundy."

You lazily swing your gaze back from the window until you meet his eyes that have bled into an even darker shade of gold. So dark the gold has vanished completely, actually, leaving two soulless depths. His eyes scream, ‘how do you know?’

His jaw is tightened like screws and his fist is clenched so tight it should spout blood.

But there is no blood, is there? Dead things lose all of that.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about-” You lift a hand up. Right there, right in front of his stone face, silencing him immediately.

“That dance gets a little bit tedious, doesn’t it?” You laugh loudly into the hollow air filled with nothing but raindrops and thunder. “A little bit boring?” You give him a smirk. “I know one thing your little family specialises in isn't boredom.”

You make the unforeseen move of stepping back from your computer, slowly making a show of sauntering around the desk. Sunghoon's dark irises track you like a sniper and you revel in it.

You must stop your hands from fisting at your own sides.

You must maintain the little control you have, or it might just cost you your life.

“You're wrong,” he says, “The books. They’re not all Victorian.”

He’s stalling. Deflecting. Trying to distract himself from your nearing frame.

“Frankenstein,” he continues, “Shelley published it in 1818, that’s just short of the start of Victoria’s reign.”

You give him a small, tight-lipped smile.

“Hm. You would know though, wouldn’t you?”

He is pulled into silence.

“But back to your little lie.” Your path is set and your mind is made. “Vampire's daylighting as average university students? That’s a good fucking story.” You nod slowly, “A good fucking story.” You take small, tentative strides closer to him. Not wanting to engage too quickly. Sunghoon was big, tall and looming. Having that kind of frame tense- more tense than he already is, would only result in a blood bath. Your blood bath.

“Everyone at school, everyone in this town thinks you’re all so goddamn close but you wanna know what I think?” You saunter closer and he inhales sharply.

“No.”

You tsk and click your tongue, not stopping your calm gait whatsoever until his scent completely enveloped you. So empty and… dead.

A smell that can’t be masked by the most expensive cologne and yet you enjoyed it. It made your blood race and if what you knew was true, then he could hear the erratics of your heart as well. You wanted him to.

“See, Hoonie-”

“Sunghoon.”

“Hoonie. Why else would you be entertaining this nonsense?” You continue moving closer until his back is pressed against the wooden desk, looking down at you with a near pitch black abyss. You look up at him, feigning innocent doe eyes as you pressed your voluminous chest against him. You dare even let your hand drift over his black, cotton sweater.

“I could-” Sunghoon's eyes flutter closed before he snaps them open again. “I could hurt you. But you know that, don’t you?” A finger slips itself under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

Or so you thought.

He continues to lift your chin until you were looking up at the fluorescent light. Then, and only then, did you understand that he was baring your neck to him.

“Aw, Sunghoon.” You chastise lightly, still letting him do with you as you please. Unbeknownst to him, you were leaning in closer, letting your hand slip onto the desk behind him until you found just what you were looking for.

Letter opener.

“I’m counting on you to hurt me, Silly.”

You finally pull back, before he can lower himself further in-before he could go in for the kill.

You aim the sharp two-edged blade of the letter opener into your left palm and, with all the reserve in the world, you cut a long, shallow gash all the way in.

The very second your palm stains crimson, Sunghoon's entire build begins to shake. His chest begins to heave uncontrollably. His face is perfectly the same but somehow you still hear the hungry tufts of air leaving his nostrils, even over the raging rain outside and you smile.

“Trust me.” You say,

“I’m counting on you hurting me,”

“You’re really goddamn stupid, you know that?“ He says cockily, feigning his control when his pitch black eyes are a dead giveaway. The pupils are trained on the beoken skin along your palm and that alone. The blood has begun dripping aimlessly down your palm and you hold it up to him, showing him his prize. Showing him everything he’s been missing.

"Maybe I am. Maybe I’m crazy and stupid.” You discard the letter opener on the carpet beside you. It clunks to the ground and you let out a little sigh.

“You can go ahead and bite me Sung-” You might not explicitly be on a nickname basis, but you figured now was as good a time as any to familiarise yourself with each other, since-

“You’re gonna turn me."

Sunghoon finally rips his onyx eyes away from the dripping crimson faucet and he stares down at you questioningly.

"Why would I do that?” Some hair has fallen in front of his left eye but he makes no move to brush it away, so naturally, you do it for him… using your bleeding left hand.

“Well… because you’re you. And self restraint isn’t very you, Sunghoon.” You tuck the dark strand, now stained lightly with your blood, behind his ear and you begin to trail your hand slowly down the side of his face. Sunghoon's eyes flutter closed and he leans, whether voluntarily or involuntarily, right into your bleeding grip. He turns his head sideways and inhales sharply.

“I knew it.” You marvel at the boy before you. “Sure it was just a theory but- it all fell serendipitously into place: The absent days when it’s sunny out. The deathly paleness. The untouched lunch trays. The old ass books that probably give away your real age.” His eyes are still closed and he is still moving his cheek against your bleeding hand. He hums unintelligibly.

“The ice cold skin was my final check.”

“How clever.”

He produces the first smile you’ve ever seen and the beauty of it releases a wave of endorphins and butterflies in your gut. “You want a cookie for that?” He has a dangerously gorgeous lopsided grin that, coupled with the gleaming, pointed canines that have emerged, leaves your pulse quickening in more places than your heart.

“What’s to stop me from ripping you open right now? There’s no one here. No one will be here in time to stop me from killing you.” He turns to look at you and you almost gasp at how severely sexy your smeared blood on his cheek looks.

“Give me reasons.” He urges with his voice bouncing off the walls.

“I need reasons or-” his eyes flutter closed “-or I just might do it. I will kill you.”

You needed to maintain control. But in that moment you knew and feared that you and him were beginning to realise that your dominant reserve was slipping right through your fingers. It was your turn in the hot seat. Okay.

You got what you wanted. Find out what you needed to find out. But all that came at a price.

You try to keep your voice steady as you answer him.

“As much as it annoys you and me, Sunghoon, it is a fact that you wanna fit in with everyone else.” Sunghoon's eyes never leave yours as you continue talking. “You probably never really had a home and this town allows you to blend in with the rest of us.” He breathes deeply through his nose. “Killing the bookkeeper would put this little fantasy life you've built for yourself in jeopardy,” Your breathing is irregular and harsh and you look at his lips and oh god you need to taste him.

“But you’re still you, Sunghoon. This town can’t and never will change that fact. You’re not like the rest of us,” You finally say, “You’re not-”

In a blur and manipulation of time, space and all the little things in between, you’ve been transported with a swift dash across the room until you were being held by the throat against a bookshelf. Pain stems from the sudden and rapid movement but the firm and unwavering squeeze on your throat, elicits a wave of lust.

“I’m done playing your little mind games.” He’s seething and he’s angry and he’s right where you want him.

“Oh? But we were having so much fun, Sung-” He squeezes your windpipe, so incredibly close to crushing it.

“What do you want?”

You let the first ever genuine smile slip onto your face.

“For you to turn me, Hoonie."

He pauses. Quite literally.

Sunghoon's rapid breathing goes to a complete stand still and his form goes as still as a statue. You deduce that this is him thinking. He’s mapping out all the possible shit storms this would conjure up for him and his precious family and you hold the will to roll your eyes. After a few stunted seconds, Sunghoon eases back again.

"Once I start-”

“You won’t stop? Sunghoon, we’ve been eye fucking this entire time. I'm not sure what it is about Blackmail that gets you off but it's not difficult to see how bad you need it.” He squeezes your throat again in warning, already telling you all you need to know.

He's not sure why he's attracted to you. He shouldn't be. Whether its the fact that you should already be dead for even knowing his secret- for thinking you can offee him an ultimatimatum- its your sheer fucking guts that has him warming with attraction.

Your words slowly bring him up for air. “If there’s one thing stronger than your need to feast,” You lift that hand up once again, “-its your need to fuck. Vampires are immortal so they draw pleasure from the little things. The pleasurable things. That bulge in your pants can’t go unnoticed, Sunghoon, no matter how long you want it t-”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes before he murmurs: “Just shut up,”

He crashes his lips right onto yours. The kiss is not only electric but it’s magnetic. As if you would not be able to pull away even if you wanted to. And his firm grip on your throat keeps you there. It’s strong and he squeezes as he licks on your bottom lip, coaxing the opening out of you. So naturally, you moan, and the bastard uses the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth.

You needn’t open your eyes to see he was half-smiling into your kiss. That little nugget of information made you need him even more. During your kiss, you squeeze your legs together. Sunghoon hums disapprovingly in your mouth, sending his other hand down your thigh, urging them apart.

“You can’t do that.” He breaks the kiss and says the words at a perfectly even breathe, meanwhile you were a heaving mess.

“What?” You inquire dumbly, all too focused on his hand on your jeans to rather give a fuck about anything else.

“Pathokinesis.” Is all he says before he ducks down into the crook of your neck, ripping the gasp out of your lungs by force. His large hand around your throat moves up to your cheek, rubbing the skin with his thumb softly.

“Don’t do that.” He says into your neck before venturing to flick his tongue out, licking the skin and driving you all too insane. You almost don’t register his words but the weight of his revelation has you tumbling to your senses momentarily.

“What? So you can like-”

“Sense and manipulate your emotions?” He says, coming up from your neck. “Yeah.” He nods once before he takes your mouth in his once more.

“What you feel,” he mumbles in between the kiss, “I feel too."

Yet another gasp strains your throat when you feel two sharp teeth graze against the skin of your plump bottom lips as Sunghoon pulls away.

Have you really thought any of your movements through?

What if sex with a vampire was fatal?

You’re about to spiral into oblivion before Sunghoon speaks up.

"No.” He says curtly, and you’re all too aware of the hand trying to push past your denim jeans. “You’re not pulling back on me now. Not after everything.” You’re in awe of his words.

“Jesus, so you really can feel everything.”

That life threatening smile again.

“Pretty much.”

He begins to undo the buttons of your pants tentatively, almost meticulously, as if you were fortunate to have all the time in the world. You’re about to urge him to hurry the fuck up but one of the shelves behind your head collapses. Books fall to a sad heap on the floor and the wood is snapped in tiny pieces. Sunghoon's hand was leaning against that particular shelf.

Maybe he’s not as calm as he’d like to convey.

“There is one thing,” the buttons are undone but he’s stopped moving his fingers. They are in fact paused on the lining of your underwear. The material is calmly in between his index and thumb, creating the sickest, most twisted need you’ve ever felt. You almost abandon modesty and grind into him right then and there.

His next words however, have you almost wanting to keel over in grief.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he says with a sick smile.

“Why?” It's all you can manage and suddenly, you think the universe must be smiling at the irony of this situation. The encounter had begun with You as the master of this blackmail, yet here you were, grovelling for him.

“I think you’re really good at getting what you want,” he says, leaning forward and slowly, oh so slowly, letting his hand slip into the fabric. The graze of his fingers on you cunt alone making you almost sob out in need.

“And I’m not gonna allow that.” He concludes before pushing his hand all the way in. Sunghoon does nothing but snicker when he feels the pool of wetness.

“This is how this is gonna work,” he uses his free hand to pick up your limp left one. The wound is of considerable size however, the blood is not flowing as much but it’s still there.

“You’re gonna give me this.” He lifts your limp hand up and you comply like a puppet on a string. “And I’m gonna give you this.” His fingers-the index and the middle,- flick over your clit, causing you to let out an aching whimper.

“Got it?” He’s already placing your bloody palm against his plump lips and you’re too enamoured. Too enamoured at the sight of his tongue sticking out and lapping at the blood as if it were a healing potent. You’re too enamoured to respond and he does not like this one bit.

Sunghoon flicks another finger against your clit.

“JESUS!” You scream into the empty library. Sunghoon, who’s eyes were closed, shoots open and he hums disapprovingly.

“No,” he says irritably, “Sunghoon. Say Sunghoon.”

You’re a drunken, sex filled mess. “Fuck-Sunghoon.” He smiles, satisfied, before returning to your palm. You begin to grind into his fingers and his chuckles.

“Sung… Sunghoon please.” There are tears staining your eyes and you’re so completely torn apart. The thrill of it being in a public setting. The rain. The licking on your palm. It’s too much.

Way too fucking much.

“Please? Please let you finish?” Sunghoon asks mockingly and a sob releases from your throat as your hips begin to buck into his hands. “You’d like me to let you cum all over my hand?”

“Please, Hoonie. Please.”

“That’s a shame…” He replies, “I thought we were having so much fun.” You do not even have the strength to act stunned at having your words being flung back at you, you’re too focused on the fingers that have slipped inside of you and the hissing noise escaping Sunghoon's throat.

It’s all so unbelievable. Sunghoon pulls back and hisses loudly. Your heart stops at the sight of his canines elongating even further but that all falls away when he sinks them further into your palm. Biting down.

Hard.

“Hoon..” You're completely out of it. The fingers slide in and out and in and out, searching rapidly for your g-spot, but in the very same breath, there’s a sharp, bright and blinding pain in your left palm, letting the tears fall as they may.

“Fuck, Sunghoon! Oh god! It hurts! It hurts so fucking bad!” You’re sobbing but his fingers inside you are relentless and his sucking, even more so. You feel like nothing but an object of his pleasure as your hand begins to grow numb. Sure he was bringing you to orgasm, the very same time you felt even that was for his own pleasure.

Never had you experienced a pain quite like this. This pain felt otherworldly. Diabolical. As if someone were ripping the nails right out of your fingers. As if you slammed the car door in on your hand repeatedly.

And the pain. God, the pain is white and bright, you fear passing out may be inevitable.

Sunghoon brings his head up, releasing his fangs from your palm but continuing his assault by licking and sucking on the two indents. “I know, my beautiful, beautiful girl,” he says, “I know."

The sobs stop, perhaps because you want to hear his voice. Perhaps because you feed on his praises. "You’re so beautiful, you know that?” he mutters unsoundly in between his licks, “So pretty, so perfect.” You realise he’s as delirious as you, his eyes are wide, gazing down at the madwoman before him with his own madness swirling in his irises. His lips are stained red and somehow that sets you over the edge.

“Hoonie?”

His eyes are red. Blood red. You gasp. “I’m-” You don’t finish the sentence, already feeling your orgasm crest as you carelessly fling yourself over the edge. It hits you and you forget all about the pain. All about the blood.

“That’s it, my pretty, pretty girl.” He encourages and your body is shaking violently against the book rack. Your eyes are screwed shut and you’re rocking uncontrollably into his hand.

In that moment, Sunghoon may have thought that he gained everything, but you gained far more. And when you come out of that high, once the fog cleared and the rain simmered down to a tiny, light pitter patter.

You begin to feel…

New.

“Welcome to immortality, Beautiful.” He whispers in your ear with that recognizable lopsided smirk.

You feel… empty. Drained. You feel nothing at all.

“Population… You”

[blooberrries]

『consequential』 — satoru

— pairing: satoru x afab!reader — wc: 5k — content: mdni, nsfw; vampire au, college/university au, jealous/possessive satoru, blood drinking, vampire bites (chest, neck and arm), alcohol, mutual pining (a distant relative of idiots to lovers), piv sex, love bites (heh literally), standing/sex against the wall (he holds you up the entire time because he's actually insane), unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming,he's a bit of a simp really idk if that was planned — notes: got possessed by the Horny Spirit, also not proofread. enjoy? also be gentle with me I haven't written smut in over a year

prompt: ["Oh, don't be cute."] + [“you’re all mine��� - “hm…” - “say it” - “i’m all yours”]

While slightly spiteful, your plan had been simple and had about a 50/50 chance of succeeding, with minimal loss to you if it didn’t.

Two weeks ago Gojo Satoru had— after months of asking for it and being denied by you— finally gotten your permission to drink your blood. So he’d gone ahead and bitten you, you’d loved it and probably fell even more annoyingly head over heels for him as a result of the oddly erotic experience, and the way he had acted during the whole ordeal gave you a decent indication that he most definitely felt the same way you did.

You’d expected things to finally change between you after that, hell you’d actually been excited for it.

But instead of leaning into the shift in the dynamic between you, Satoru had instead decided to pretend you didn’t exist and proceeded to completely avoid you for the last two weeks.

(Which is actually quite the feat considering how much overlap there is between your friend groups. But you’re not impressed. You’re mad.)

To say you were upset would be an understatement. Your pride was wounded along with your ego, and you felt foolish and embarrassed and stupidly angsty. The unfortunate reality is that you’re not very good at processing those feelings, so in your time of need you turned to your most faithful, long-time friend: spite.

You know for a fact that Satoru likes the way you smell and taste– it’s one of the many things he’d let slip when sucking the blood ever so gently from the puncture he’d made in the soft flesh of your inner forearm. So you decided to wait until the prime part of your cycle, where the supernatural consensus said humans smelt their best, and you’d procured a tincture from your witch-in-training friend that would accentuate the natural appeal of your blood for certain creatures of the night (she’d assured you it was safe, but you have your own means of defending yourself anyway so you aren’t too worried.)

Then, you’d waltzed your way into a party that was being held at his shared accommodation and made it a point to have fun. The real goal of your plan, besides sticking it to him in the most subtle-not-subtle way ever, was also just to feel better about yourself. Your expectations being upended regarding how you’d hoped things would develop with Satoru had been a big blow and would take some TLC from yours truly to recover from.

You’ve had fun so far, you’re only a drink or so in and pleasantly buzzed, and you’re getting a lot of compliments on your perfume. You can’t exactly tell them you’re not wearing anything but eau de spite, but it does feel nice nonetheless. Each comment is like a balm to your poor, chafed ego. The only wrench in the works is that as expected, not long after you arrived, Satoru noticed you.

And then proceeded to continue in his efforts to avoid and ignore you. He’d disappeared into the throng of people on the other side of the house before you could even blink.

It takes a strongly mixed cocktail, courtesy of Shoko who you’re not sure isn’t trying to kill you with the alcohol content of these drinks, for you to settle your fuming. This is stupid— no, he’s stupid. Stupid sexy vampire with his stupid pretty eyes and stupid pretty face. How dare he let you make a fool of yourself by thinking there could be anything more between you! You never should have let him bite you. At least then things would still be the same and you wouldn’t be so torn between throttling him and kissing him.

Angrily, you take a hearty gulp of your drink. Despite the superficial fruity flavour it burns on the way down, unsurprisingly, and you have to breathe slowly through your nose so it doesn’t come back up. You’re no longer uncertain; you’re confident this cocktail is an attempt on your life.

It’s as you’re nursing that drink and leaning angstily against a wall in the corner of the room, that you sense someone approach you. Your eyes take a moment to adjust as you look up, surprise filtering through you once you register the figure by your side.

“Hey.”

Your brows shoot up, a small grin tugging your lips. “Oh? Long time no see, Mei Mei. What cave have you crawled out of to be here tonight?”

The snow-haired woman rolls her eyes, lips twitching. Her tongue darts to swipe over the tip of a pointed canine.

“Oh, you know, every homebody has to come out to play every once in a while.” Her nose twitches, and she leans forward slightly to inhale. Her eyes flutter wide in pleasant surprise. “Well, don’t you smell absolutely divine tonight. Special occasion?”

Kind of, but you’re not about to tell her that. Mei Mei can be a decent enough acquaintance so long as you keep her at arm’s length.

“I’m trying something new,” you answer simply. She hums, and when her body angles towards you again ever so slightly you become aware of the most odd, prickly sensation. It tickles the hairs at the back of your neck, and you fight the peculiar urge to turn and look around. All you’d see is dancing bodies and stumbling drunks, anyway.

“It suits,” Mei Mei purrs with a smile that makes you a little nervous. Music throbs against your body so strongly that for a moment you’re not sure whether the beat you’re feeling in your chest belongs to your heart or the song. “Though you ought to be careful going on campus smelling like that. You’ll lure in every bloodsucker in a five-mile radius.”

You suppose that means the tincture is doing its job. The way her eyes are appraising your pulse points keeps you feeling nervous, though. Perhaps… it wasn’t the best idea to make yourself smell so scrumptious after all. There are more than a few loose canons in the area.

It’s a little too late for regrets now, though. At this point you just gotta double down and own the decision.

“Noted,” you say, taking a hearty sip of your death-in-a-cup. The burn is now a pleasant distraction. You smile at Mei Mei and feel that prickly, hot feeling increase tenfold. What is that?!

The sensation has your heart rate elevating slightly, and it must make the aroma of your blood a little stronger because the vampire before you lets out a soft groan, her eyes fluttering shut. Almost like it’s instinct, she takes a step closer and leans her head towards the crook of your neck. Your startle is almost imperceptible, and you’re thankful that the top you opted for is one that saved the neck exposure for a well-placed boob window instead. The fabric covering half the expanse of your throat is probably the only reason you don’t freak out at her actions.

Her nose brushes your skin, dragging up the column of your throat until it flirts with the bottom of your earlobe. Your heart skips a beat before tumbling into a full gallop. It’s different to how it felt with Satoru— you don’t like this nearly as much. Your legs tense with the urge to leave.

“Really,” she says, purring your name. “You’ve got me feeling quite peckish. Won’t you let me have a little sn–“

A grip winds around your wrist like a vice, not painful but certainly unforgiving. Startled, you look up and see the person of the hour, the vampire you went to all this effort to torment in the hopes he would want you again. Wow, it doesn’t sound great when you think of it like that. The alcohol is certainly not helping your self-esteem right now.

Satoru’s pretty baby-blues are dark, pupils blown wider than you’ve ever seen before, and his entire body is riddled with tension. He almost looks like the slightest pressure would have him snapping in half. His jaw is locked tightly, and he hisses through clenched teeth and descended fangs.

“Come with me. Now.”

You don’t get the chance to bid Mei Mei farewell, not that you really want to, and the last thing you see as you’re dragged out of the room is her waving a manicured hand your way, mouthing a playful ‘goodbye’. She looks far too amused for your comfort.

Right now, Satoru is nothing like the cheeky, carefree, shit-stirring bastard you’ve come to know and love. That isn’t to say you’re completely opposed to it, because the way he looks like know is a pretty big turn-on. But still – the difference is startling. You’re not sure how to navigate the situation.

Before you know it you’ve been unceremoniously relocated to his bedroom, and he is pressing you against the door the second it closes behind you with a heavy, loud THUD.

For a moment, the only sound that fills the space is that of the music beyond the wooden barrier. The bass is no longer indistinguishable with your heart beat – the stuttering rhythm that echoes against your rib cage is all you.

Satoru inhales deeply as though to calm himself down, only to let out a long, low groan immediately after. The sound affects you more than it probably should, heat winding pleasantly up your spine.

“What was that?” He demands, brows snapping together. It takes you a moment to realise that he’s most likely referring to Mei Mei being horny on main just before. His massive frame boxes you in against the door in such a way that you’re almost embarrassed by how much it makes your tummy flutter.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you breathe, chin tilted up as you hold his gaze. Something feral flickers through his expression.

“Oh, don’t be cute.” The words snap into the air, causing your breath to hitch. Satoru’s eyes flick to your forearm, where the slightest bruise still remains from the last time you were in close quarters like this. He swallows, piercing gaze returning to your own.

“I told you.” Satoru’s words leave in a snarl, his fingers firm against the flesh of your hips. His own body is so close to yours that you can feel the heat of it, the tingle of electricity that arcs between you. “That I would be able to smell it if another vampire so much as breathed near you. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you getting chummy with one in my own home?”

You can easily recall him saying that to you almost a fortnight ago, when he had been commenting that he could tell you hadn’t been bitten before thanks to his sharp senses and all that. You didn’t think he was lying. You are surprised that he cares, though. Something like indignation bubbles beneath your lungs, because how dare the bastard spout that shit when he just spent the last two weeks since your ‘encounter’ pretending you didn’t exist.

“Not sure why you give a shit,” you retort, squashing down a whine that begins to rise in your throat when his hips begin to press into yours. “Seemed like you were done with me after you finally got that taste you wanted so bad.”

His brows scrunch together, appearing confused for a second amongst the agitation on his features. You decide to fill the gap in the conversation on his behalf.

“I really was just a Sip ‘n’ Dip to you, huh,” you scoff, letting your head fall back against the door. His eyes snap to the column of your throat, more of which is now exposed. “At least now I know the only thing you want from me is my blood. Really saved me some grief there, Satoru.”

“Excuse me?”

When your eyes slide back to his face, he looks like you’ve physically struck him. His fingers dig into your hips almost out of habit, just shy of being painful. Anger still bubbles beneath your sternum, and you glare at him.

“By the way, as far as I’m aware, biting me once doesn’t give you any exclusive rights to my blood, so where the hell do you get off getting so shitty because someone else took a whiff–“

Satoru snaps.

“I don’t just want your blood,” he snarls, lips curling away from pin-prick sharp fangs. He has the nerve to look insulted. “I want you, you stupidly oblivious pain in my ass. All of you.”

He then leans in, erasing any foreign scents lingering on you and replacing it with something of his own, whatever pheromone bullshit vampires do. You’re too busy trying to stop your heart from having palpitations to focus on it too much because what the fuck did he just say—

“Do you have any idea how close I am to losing myself to a frenzy, like a fucking fledgling?!” His lips brush over the pulse point at your neck, and then teeth, razor-sharp and full of promise, drag over the skin of your clavicle, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. You shiver, flushing with heat and desire. The threat of another bite is already enough to have your body reacting in memory of how the last one felt. You want him, god you want him so, so badly.

“I haven’t fed since then because I can’t get the taste of you out of my head, and I can’t stomach anything else. I can’t stop thinking about the noises you made when I sank my teeth into you, and the scent of absolute desire that filled the entire fucking room the second the venom kicked in for you.” Satoru’s words are punctuated by a prick just below your collarbone, the brief sting eliciting a gasp. Warmth begins to trickle thinly from the site and is quickly staunched by a press of his tongue, and he moans. You’re so painfully aroused that it nearly makes you dizzy. He groans, long and suffering. “Just like now.”

He moves lower and lower, hauling you off the floor and completely into his hold so his mouth can reach your chest without stooping. Suddenly in the air, you can’t help the way you yelp and wrap your legs tightly around his hips – which, in turn, presses the heat of your core against the very prominent bulge there. You both echo a groan.

“Coward,” you manage to pant, out of sheer spite if nothing else. “Stupid idiot. I clearly want you. I literally could not have been any more obvious, you’re so –“

His teeth sink into the exposed top of your breast, retracting once they puncture deep enough to get a good flow. Then, he latches firmly onto the flesh, sucking it into his mouth. The act startles a moan out of you, the venom from the initial bite already transmuting the pain into heady pleasure and sending heat through your veins, all while kicking your heart into an even faster beat. Perhaps one of the best perks of the venom is that after that first dose settles in, the only part of the process left for you to feel is pleasure.

Even while you’re unable to help the way your hips roll into his own, and unable to ignore the feral, sinful moans vibrating against your chest as he suckles the wound he made and drinks from you, you manage to continue insulting him.

“You’re so stupid, why the hell did you avoid me for two weeks huh?” A moan breaks up your complaint as he swipes his tongue in broad movements over the bite, his hips snapping into yours and pressing you further into the door. The wood creaks, but neither of you pay it any mind. You can barely function around the incredible sensation of his cock grinding against you through layers of clothing. “All you did was send mixed messages and piss me off and, ngh fuck–“

He pulls back enough that you can see the flush in his face, the feral gleam in his eyes and the smear of blood over swollen lips. His brows are furrowed, but he’s too besotted by the taste of you to have as much heat behind his glare as he did previously.

“There are some things you can’t take back,” he grits out, tongue coming to clean the red from his lips. Your heart stutters, pulse thudding in your ears. “Especially for my kind. If I didn’t stay away, I probably would have ended up doing one of those things.”

Your core positively throbs with need, clenching around nothing. The extent to which you want him right now has you more irritable than usual. “Satoru, I wouldn’t have let you drink from me if I wasn’t interested in everything else it would entail—“

“You don’t understand,” Satoru groans, freeing a hand to rip at the material of your shirt. Clawed fingertips slice through with ease, taking out the bra straps underneath as well. He makes quick work of the band beneath your chest and the underwear is then torn from your form and thrown somewhere in the background. The material of your top remains, and he yanks it down below your aching breasts, watching with rapt attention as they bounce free heavily. Barely allowing you time to moan, he lifts you higher in his arms and dives down to drag his teeth over the swollen globes. He nips and nibbles across the sensitive skin, eliciting all sorts of sounds from you and an unbearable amount of desire that shoots straight between your legs. You can feel slick arousal trickling from your aching cunt with each new miniscule bite Satoru delivers, but honestly at this point you’re too horny to be embarrassed.

“I already want everything you can give me, and more.” He bites the inside of your breast and the flesh gives easily beneath the razor-sharp point of his fangs. One of his hands comes to grip the other side of your chest while he laps and sucks at the blood welling in the wound. Your nipples are painfully hard and you feel like you could cry in relief when his long, nimble fingers begin to deliver them some much-needed attention. “I want every single part of you and I don’t want to share. This is the way I am built. I can’t do this with you again and let you go afterwards. I want you to be mine.”

You probably shouldn’t find that as romantic as you do, but aren’t really in a position to psycho-analyse your response right now. It’s not all that surprising, either, since you recall someone mentioning to you before how strongly vampires bond with their partner when they finally make their choice. As it happens, his confession serves to not only make your heart soar but your pussy throb. You’ve been pining for this man for years, so even amongst the haze of lust clouding your mind you don’t have to think about how to respond to it.

This is, after all, the solution you were hoping for two weeks ago.

“I don’t want you to let me go, or take anything back. Please bite me again, mark me up–” You pause to gasp, Satoru having shoved your skirt up to bunch around your hips. Your panties are gone a split-second later, likely discarded in the same manner as your bra, and the hand that was at your breast is now trailing your slit and gathering all the slick that has pooled there. His middle finger dips in, causing a stutter in your breath. You lean forward to whisper in his ear, snowy strands of hair tickling your cheeks as you do so. “And please, please fuck me, Satoru.”

Something snaps in him, and he doesn’t need to be told twice.

A feral snarl escapes him, a gravelly “fuck” the only warning you get before his teeth sink down just above your nipple, fangs retracting once blood wells to the surface, and he pulls both the wound and your stiffened peak into his mouth, sucking hard. There isn’t a single ounce of pain, only the white-hot pleasure that shoots to your clit and has you keening as a result, hands scrabbling for purchase along his broad shoulders. That free hand that was at your slit has made quick work of his pants and is now guiding his scalding member to slap against your clit, and then press against your entrance while you recover from the shock of pleasure.

You expected him to be well-endowed, and you’re not at all disappointed. Satoru’s cock is fat and long, and with one roll of his hips it spears right into you. There is no resistance, you’re far too aroused and wet for there to be any, but the feeling of being split open by such a monster quite literally knocks the breath out of you. You hardly recognise the noise that escapes you as one of your own, hands gripping the vampire’s hair and shoulder so tightly you’d be worried about hurting him if he was human. He isn’t, though, and without even noticing your grip continues drinking from you while latched to your breast, tongue pressing and rolling your aching nipple all the while.

A second is all you get to adjust to the foreign length inside you before Satoru rolls his hips back with a moan, the fat head of his cock dragging against your walls as he does so, and then slams it back in. He builds a rhythm immediately that is almost animalistic in its desperation and fervour, each thrust firm and hitting so deep inside that you honest to god think it has you seeing stars. Whines and moans tumble from your mouth, no longer able to be held back when the only thing your brain can comprehend is the sheer pleasure and ecstasy that burns and sparks along your limbs. He begins to hit a certain spot when he fucks up into your heat that has you clenching around him, slick gushing forth.

“FUCK.” He rips away from your chest to tilt his head back in a rough, stilted moan, his hands gripping and digging into the meat of your thighs where they melt into your ass. In the absence of his mouth, blood begins to dribble down the swell of your breast. His crystalline eyes are hazy and blown out in lust, brows drawn together and expression twisted in pleasure, his breath coming in pants. He is visibly barely holding it together, completely drunk on the taste and feel of you– and it simultaneously is the hottest and sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. “Yes, fuck, squeeze me just like that.”

You oblige, relishing in the full-body shiver that tears through him in response. He bites your name out amidst a tortured groan, hands shifting to your hips. His mouth returns to clean up the mess he left on your breast, lips latching around your nipple to suck and pull once more, and it’s almost enough to distract you from the way he suddenly begins to lift you by the hips and drop you back down on his cock in time with his thrusts. Almost. You have to bite back a scream at how fucking good it feels, the pressure and pace and just how full you feel. You can feel yourself rapidly beginning to come undone.

With the combination of his venom’s aphrodisiac effects and the sheer amount of time you’ve spent longing for this, you don’t imagine you’re going to last much longer. If the unforgiving pace of Satoru’s hips is anything to go by, you estimate the same to be the case for him.

He groans into your chest, releasing your breast to bounce in time with his thrusts, the action accompanied by an almost audible pop, and shifts his hold to free a hand. The pressure of two fingers against your clit has you crying out, body jerking at the sudden rush of pleasure – your head whips down to find him already looking at you, gaze swinging from the juncture of your thighs to your eyes. Evidently pleased by the expression he finds on your face, he continues his circling of your clit and leans his head down to trail kisses from your already-healing chest, up the column of your throat, across the line of your jaw, until he finally arrives at your lips.

“Mine,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours in a feather-light caress. His baby-blue eyes are lidded heavily and almost dazed, coherent thought lost to the throes of pleasure and his most simple instincts. He nicks your lip at the same time as he angles a particularly wonderful thrust, the head of his cock hitting against that spot that makes you see stars and release a loud, wanton cry. “You’re all mine.”

You pull back to nod rapidly, unable to form words when all you can think – all you can feel – is the throbbing pleasure of his cock splitting you open with each heavy thrust. His head follows, lips seeking your own once more. The kiss is hot, and needy, and his oversized canines scrape your bottom lip more than once, and yet all you can do is return the fervour in between moans and whines. His hand is still at work between your legs, and you feel in your bones that you’re really not going to last much longer at this rate.

Satoru releases your mouth with a final nip, and moves his head to nestle it in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He groans, low and long, and the vibration turns to a shiver as it travels over your skin. His lips begin to move.

“Say it.”

You struggle to think let alone figure out what he wants, lost in the current of your rapidly approaching orgasm. His fingers pick up speed, aided by the generous amount of arousal still gushing from your pussy in between thrusts. It takes everything you have not to scream, your hips bucking.

“Say it,” he says again, an oddly uncertain note infiltrating his rumbling gasp. He utters your name while nosing at your throat and you feel yourself melt. “Please, say it.”

Realisation as to what he is looking for hits you at the same time as your orgasm. “Fuck! I’m– I’m yours, all yours! God, fuck—“

Satoru’s pace stutters, undone by your pussy clenching and throbbing around him in a fight to keep him inside, and it takes him a moment to recover before he begins to fuck into you again in earnest, movements growing sloppy and frantic but no less punishing. It all serves to prolong the wave of absolute bliss you’re riding in the wake of what has to be the strongest orgasm of your life. Those vampiric toxins are no joke.

You wind your arms around his neck, clutching him close and trying not to lose your mind as he fucks up into you, the drag of his cock against your walls somehow even more delicious than before. He mouths at your neck, hips beginning to stutter once more. You clench around him, and he breaks. There is barely enough time for a curse to escape his mouth before its clamping on your neck, teeth digging in deep— deeper than he’s ever bitten you before— and tingling heat spreading out from the puncture sites. He gives one, two, three final, dragging thrusts, body trembling and muscles taut, before his cock throbs and he buries it inside you, spilling into you with a deep, rumbling groan against your throat.

Soft, panting moans escape you as his hips continue to roll into you softly, riding out his orgasm, and you bite back a wanton groan as you feel his cum beginning to trickle out around his softening member. As soon as he comes back to his senses to a degree, he has the presence of mind to navigate the two of you to the bed before he loses strength in his legs, his mouth slipping from your neck after he laves his tongue over the wound to seal it. Unceremoniously, he drops the two of you against the mattress, but surprisingly keeps you snugly in his hold and his length still buried inside you. Ignoring how hot that is, you decide to view the action from a purely romantic light and nearly melt into the mattress.

Vaguely, you register the thumping club beats still booming beyond the confines of the room. Evidently the party was still ongoing.

“This wasn’t how I planned for today to go,” he admits, after a few beats of contented silence. He nuzzles his face to your chest, dragging his nose across your collarbone. “I was going to talk to you tomorrow morning.”

You snort; that’s likely.

“… This is how I planned for today to go, though.”

He huffs a laugh before pressing his lips together, clearly trying not to enable you further. He allows for another few moments to pass, and in that time you let your own eyes flutter closed.

“You can’t change your mind, by the way,” he says suddenly, tone odd. You open your eyes and turn to see his crystalline gaze directed to your neck, where the latest of his bite marks sits proudly. “I may have done one of those things I can’t take back.”

You’re not sure how to tell him it’s not as bad of a thing as he thinks it to be.

likes and reblogs are appreciated <3 lmk what you think!

[marchwardenofmordor]

Since people liked my post about the new Nosferatu film, I’m gonna go a little more in depth about some of the things that REALLY stood out to me

- The sound design of his voice and the blood drinking: a fucking genius choice. Each horrific rattling inhale before he speaks and the way he trails off at the end of his sentences because he’s manually breathing for the EXPRESS PURPOSE OF SPEAKING. That monotone is fucking perfect because he sound like the air is being squeezed out of him with each word. The monstrous gulping and slurping as he drinks blood is great because it sounds equal parts disgusting and sexual.

- I think, as a personification of shame, that he is SUPPOSED to make you want to crawl out of your own skin. The moaning, the nudity, the squelchy sounds… if you went to the cinema to see it, I think the idea was to make you blush and perhaps have a bit of a bodily reaction that would have you glancing around at other people in embarrassment. Not everybody is going to want him, but he will tap into the shame of witnessing something sexual in public. If we take the particular time period the film is set in, too, I think he’s supposed to have us clutching our pearls, making us collectively hearken back to the victorian attitudes towards sex and shame.

- You know what else is great about putting us in that mindset as an audience? It makes us remember that talking about sex and death are still considered shameful and taboo - the Victorian period really wasn’t that long ago, and some aspects of that history still casts its shadow of shame over us. But as ashamed as we are, we’re also curious creatures.

- Sex and death are very closely linked. Again, a little death being a term for an orgasm, the fact that indole is a chemical that both repels and attracts us (the scent is commonly used in perfumery, and in small amounts, smells alluring and seductive, like white florals, or the literal smell of sex, but in large concentrations smells fucking rancid, like rotting bodies). When we die, our brains release a rush of endorphins, etc. Dead bodies have a ‘sweet’ smell before they begin rotting - again, that’s probably indole, and would explain some of the subconscious urges of a necrophiliac.

- He is also called ‘death’ multiple times, and we know that a little fraction of his power is bringing ‘la petit mort’ (a little death / orgasm) to his victims.

- Even rats are symbolic here of sex, death and disease: we know terms like ‘multiplying like rats’ obviously, and how rats are symbolic of the plague (even though it was the fleas that caused it). The presence of the rats and the cries of townsfolk about ‘disease’ and ‘plague’ are less like the actual literal plague, and - considering that Orlok is ‘shame’ - more like a metaphorical miasma sweeping through victorian society, reinforcing ideas of shame and purity and what is or is not proper.

- Bodily fluids!! There are tears, there’s cum, considering the rats (again) there’s excrement (also on the walls of the cell in the asylum??), and with the Renfield-type character there’s also saliva. This isn’t just for shock/horror - the main fluid shown is blood, and in the mindset of a victorian christian (historically, blood transfusions could only really be shared between a man and a woman who were married because blood was a life-giving bodily fluid likened to the life-sowing fluid of semen), the idea of a blood-drinking monster was fucking horrific and blasphemous, sinful beyond measure.

- Orlok’s appearance and the treatment of the G*psies in the town (once more - “bringing shame to this inn!” Likening them to the vampire) is indicative of the xenophobia and prejudice towards Romani Jewish people of the time period, where white victorian christians feared Romani people as being ‘child-stealing’, ‘blood-drinking’ (again, look up Blood Libel) barbarians prone to SA (stereotypes which sadly persist today), but also fetishised them as mystics. (I did my university dissertation on ‘boho’ tattoos, cultural appropriation and the origins of the ‘boho’ aesthetic and why it is just ✨not it✨ but I won’t go into that in depth because my analysis was literally over 5000 words)

- I love that the message at the end was basically ‘the only way to kill your shame is to lay with it, to accept it and love it’ - which is honestly true. If you learn to accept uncomfortable aspects of yourself and face them, they no longer have any sort of power over you.

- The female protagonist is dressed all in white, indicative of her purity and chastity, and it’s interesting to see how her wardrobe gradually darkens throughout the film, showing her becoming quite monstrous herself in one particular scene where she rips open the top of her dress and demands Thomas to ‘take her’, up until the final scene, where she is stark naked and covered in blood. Honestly wicked. I love a good corruption. Her character is so symbolic of the struggle of someone who is deeply repressed and chastised for her desires. Desires which started innocently and then - through suppression in an oppressive society and household (her father discovering her naked and screaming at her for being sinful)- were twisted and given form as something monstrous that literally eats away at her and those around her, because she brings her shame wherever she goes, and in the end, even though she faces it and sets an example, it ultimately kills her to do so.

- Also notice how NOBODY fucking listens to her. And every time nobody listens to her, Orlok grows stronger as she grows angrier and more frustrated. They’re feeding him by ignoring her. It’s sad that they look at her in the end, and deem her ‘sacrifice’ as noble, only really paying attention to her once she is dead, with her shame laying on top of her, crushing her. This is the torment of the Victorian Woman, told that she must deal with her problems alone by the male characters.

Edit: Also because the film is German in origin, I’d recommend looking up the ‘Nachzehrer’ creature - a ghoulish vampire-esque creature that would rise from the grave to drag its victims into death with it through various means, known to devour its own funeral shroud, rendering it naked. Fun fact: it was said that if a corpse was clutching its left thumb in its right hand with the left eye open (I think? It’s been a while since I researched it), it would rise as a Nachzehrer. They are also thought to be able to drain their victim’s life force remotely. The threat was said to be particularly great if the living gave the Nachzehrer a personal affectation - in the case of Orlok, it would be Thomas giving him the locket containing Ellen’s hair.

[meanbossart]

A personal headcanon of mine is that Cazador had a special interest in Astarion before turning him into a vampire possibly a romantic obsession.

I was curious about what your personal thoughts were on the relationship between Cazador and Astarion?

Let me stop you right there - Yes.

Now, I'm a little reluctant to elaborate on this one, because I think it can be seen as a little reductive of the characters and their stories to condense what could be a political plot into something as superficial as another "if I can't have you, no one will" storyline - not only would that be less interesting to some people, but it once again reduces Astarion's character to his attractiveness - while the former, for once, actually made him "desirable" for his achievements and influence - even if it doomed him after all.

But at the same time, this theory compels me for that reason exactly. It sets the origins of the whole issue and what would, overtime, erupt into this complex he has of himself and how others perceive him.

I'm not a stickler for details as long as you can tell me a good story, but it's notable to me that the reasons why Cazador set his eyes on Astarion so early in his reign are never really elaborated on further. How much influence did he really have as a young magistrate, and what kind of rulings could he be passing that would affect Cazador so much for him to take such a risk in abducting someone of his standing right as he had himself come into power? Cazador is an idiot, but he's an idiot who managed to say alive and hidden for two centuries - this move was either exceptionally well thought-out, or Astarion wasn't that liked as a magistrate, or Cazador had far pettier motives to take such a risk.

Not to mention, Astarion is awfully elusive whenever you inquire about the hows and whys of his abduction. Dismissive, even. Like it's something he doesn't want to talk about. I could take that down the boring route and say "oh, the writers just didn't care to develop this part of his story", or I could do the far more fun thing and read into it.

Then, of course, there's the vague suggestions that Astarion stood out among the spawn for one reason or another - he's referred to as the runt of the litter, and yet as Cazador's favorite as well. Going through Cazador's journal following Astarion's disappearance, there seems to be something besides frustration about him leaving just as he's about to ascend - there's resentment, there's desperation. Why the fuck does Petras act as if Cazador would ever do anything good for them if they were treated as Astarion describes? How the fuck were any of them under the impression that this ritual would benefit them whatsoever, while Astarion seems to have always known better? While I have no doubt that they all suffered under Cazador's control, there seems to be indication that Astarion suffered specially badly. The question left is why.

I don't think they were ever lovers or anything like that, I don't think Astarion ever even knew Cazador well enough to give him a passing thought, but I think it would be absolutely rich for a newly born, still spite-fuelled vampire lord to make very emotionally-driven decisions. The type of decisions that he looks back on and curses himself for. For having ever had such a weak mind.

Think of it, you come into all this power after years of pain, sorrow and suffering. You set your hungry, lonely little eyes on the prettiest girl at the ball - she turns you down spectacularly. She laughs you off under thinly veiled pleasantries. You are beside yourself - you were supposed to have everything you ever wanted, to be untouchable, to be desirable, to have some sort of supernatural allure about yourself - you were under the impression that now, all of your problems had been solved and everything that life has to offer would be thrown at your feet, like you perceived it to be like to your own, deceased masted; then the rug gets ripped from under your feet. But, a moment after, you realize: when you want something very badly, you can now just take it.

So you do. You get a shiny new toy. Fresh off your dull, painful past-experiences it seems like this toy is all you need to bring the long-lost zest back into your life, it is your first taste of true power and control, your dear beloved, your reluctant companion, and you paint a picture of what life will be alongside it (though slightly stooped beneath you - you can't be equals, of course) decades, no, centuries into the future.

But the toy doesn't ever grow to like you. In fact, it hates you for what you are, what you chose to become and what you chose to make of, and to it. For a few years, you try. Then eventually you get bored of it.

In a few more, you begin to not be able to stand the sight of it. It reminds you of a time when you were naive, when you were stupid. Worse yet, it is now your ball and chain as you made it. The only use you see remaining for it is to tear it apart again and again and again until you've forgotten why you're even doing it. You don't even want to touch it yourself, you get others to do it for you.

I don't think Cazador harbored anything but that indifferent resentment towards Astarion through the vast majority of those two centuries, and, horrifically enough, I don't think Astarion even knew why for a good deal of it himself. I can picture him going over and over any passing interactions they ever had (if they even had any) desperately trying to piece together why me, what could I have done differently, how could I have avoided this hell.

Then, at some point, in the brief moments when his mind is somewhat cleared and after he has heard enough vague, cryptic remarks out of Cazador's mouth about his looks, about his attitude, about how he must think he's too good to do what he does, it hits him: If I had just said yes, none of this would have happened. It would have been a brief moment of disgust, but then it would have been over.

And you beat yourself over it almost much as you feel shame. You're embarrassed. Because you've now had to endure all this torment just because you said no to the wrong man - a matter of picking the bad choice at 50/50 odds. Not only that - but you were apparently so worthless to the world that this small mistake was enough to doom you for all eternity: It was, apparently, all you were worth. And he has made that abundantly clear by what he puts you up to now.

So, when someone asks you why it happened, you give them a better reason. One that at least highlights other things you were good at. They probably wouldn't believe you if you told them the truth, anyways.

[t1red-twilight]

friends?

content/warnings: gn!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, confession, cursing, pre-season 4

word count: 1.7k

masterlist d. w. masterlist

you were somewhere in reno, nevada trying to track down a poltergeist. you knew that dean and sam were nearby, but you had no clue how close they were. the motel you were currently staying at was on the nicer side, to be honest. the motel room had been decently cleaned, the television had some actually good channels, and the sheets were soft.

you had ordered takeout and were watching some shitty game show, the room only lit by the lamp on the nightstand in between the two queen sized beds.

right as you were about to take another bite, you heard a knock at your motel room door. well, the knock was more of a thud than anything.

you looked through the foggy peephole, only to see the top of someone’s head and a tuft of brown hair.

without unhooking the chain, you opened the door. only to be surprised to find dean winchester slumped in the doorway. “dean?”

to put it lightly, he looked like shit. there was a bit of matted blood on his hairline and he was holding his shoulder. not to mention the sweat that lingered on his body everywhere you could see it.

“i got shot.”

“what?”

there was a pause before he responded. “yeah, yeah. can i come in?”

“oh, of course. yeah. absolutely.” you removed the chain and opened the door enough so that he could come in. when he was inside, you poked your head out and looked around. you saw the impala parked very crooked in the spot next to your car.

you turned to see dean awkwardly standing in the middle of the room. you walked behind him and pulled out the chair from the desk, urging him to sit down wordlessly.

“i’m just going to wash up for a second,” you stated, walking to the bathroom. dean responded silently with a thumbs up. for whatever reason, you caught yourself in a haze. why was he here? was he actually okay? was sam okay? the warm water from the faucet somewhat lulled you out of your head. you patted your hands dry and walked back out to dean.

you gently tugged his jacket and flannel off, and pulled the arm of his short sleeved shirt up. he hissed in what you assumed to be pain. rubbing his back, you stood. “i have a first aid kit around here somewhere.”

“please, just make it quick. i’m bleeding out over here.” reaching into one of the cabinet drawers, you pulled out the first aid kit. after some years hunting, your first aid kit became more of a small hospital in a box.

you walked over to dean and kneeled to be eye-level with his shoulder. you grabbed his hand and had him hold up the bloodied sleeve of his shirt.

as you were tugging the bullet out of dean’s arm with long tweezers, you heard him repeatedly grunt in pain. “sorry,” you looked up at him. his face showed a screwed-up expression, his eyebrows drawn together.

all he responded with was a tightly knit, closed mouth smile that was very clearly strained. “dean, what did this to you?”

dean looked away at you and at the wall; he began to fiddle with the edge of his shirt sleeve. “you should see the other guy”

you snorted sarcastically.

“no, really. is sam okay?” you took out the disinfectant and prepped his arm.

dean inhaled shallowly. “it was just a mix up with some vampires. i knew that you were nearby, and sam sucks at stitches, so-“ he blurted, before you cut him off.

“…so, you’re keeping tabs on me?” you raised an eyebrow playfully while you readied the needle and thread. “i’m going in with the stitches now.”

“fuck,” he muttered. “thank you for the warning. jesus.” he paused, eyes flickering between yours and the floor. “it’s-uh, hard not to.”

you raised your eyebrows. “what do you mean?” what did he mean? yeah, you guys were friendly, but surely he wasn’t suspecting you of anything. you pretended not to hear the tone in his voice that indicated he meant something more than he was saying.

dean gulped. “i- we just like to know that you’re safe. that’s all.”

“okay you little creeper, i see how it is.” as you spoke, you finished up the stitches with a patch to cover them from any irritation. “i’m assuming you don’t need anywhere to stay tonight?”

he answered your question with another question; you began cleaning the wound on his forehead. “maybe i can just stay with you tonight? i’m sure sam wouldn’t mind,” he all but whispered the last part.

you stood after finally finishing patching him up. this view you weren’t used to, seeing him from above. you were even less used to seeing dean be so vulnerable. he had this look in his eyes, a sort of pleading. maybe he had picked that up from sam. “if you really want to, then you totally can.” you shrugged. “i was just finishing dinner, then i was going to clock out for the night.”

dean held up his hands. “by all means, finish your dinner.”

“eh, i’m not really that hungry anymore,” you joked. “i haven’t gotten in either bed yet. you can pick whatever one.” you closed the takeout box and placed in on the tv stand, the tv still playing the shitty gameshow. you had all but forgotten about it.

dean held a perplexing look on his face, he almost seemed distant. “i’ll take the window bed. you good if i sleep in my boxers?”

walking to the bathroom once more, you shrugged. “yeah, sure. i’m going to brush my teeth- just settle in before i’m done.”

by the time you emerged from the bathroom, dean had, in fact, settled in. he had pulled he sheets and duvet up to his chin, only his head being exposed. what a cute visual, you thought.

“i texted sam. i told him i was staying with you.” he barely even moved as he spoke.

you smiled at him lopsidedly, drawing the sheets back and sitting down. “that’s good,” you paused slightly, “can i turn the lamp off?” dean nodded. you turned out the light and pulled the sheets over yourself.

normally, dean’s snores would have filled the room rather quickly. however, you didn’t notice this as you started to drift off to sleep.

a couple of moments passed before dean decided to say something.

“hey,” dean whispered, “are you awake?” the silence that followed made dean think that maybe you were.

you grunted, but answered with words when he didn’t respond. “yeah. why?” the warm sheets held you in an embrace; one that you would surely disappear into if dean didn’t follow up quickly.

dean mumbled a response, “thank you for letting me stay with you.” the soft genuine nature of his tone made you think twice. what was he getting at?

“yeah sure, that’s what friends are for.” you hoped the smile could be heard in your tone, but anything could be said with how drowsy you were. that was the end of that, you assumed. dean just wanted to be extra sweet tonight, you guessed. weird.

dean all but blurred, “so, we’re friends?” so, maybe dean wasn’t being sappy, maybe something was up.

“what?” you asked confusedly.

his voice lowered in volume slightly. “we’re friends, that’s what you said,” dean remarked. that thing in his voice was there again.

your eyes shot open. “uh, yeah?” he didn’t answer. “dean?” this time, you sat up and looked at him. “dean?” the sheets fell around your torso; you looked to your side you could see that dean was wide awake. “you good?”

dean’s next statement shocked you to your core. “just this once, can you lie to me? please.” the words were seemingly aggressive, but paired with his tone of voice, it just felt to be desperate.

why would he want you to lie? “what? why would i lie to you?” you puzzled out loud, pulling the sheets closer to you again.

“maybe, tonight, we can just be more. just for tonight,” dean murmured. for the first time since he spoke up, he looked into your eyes.

his green eyes swirled with a mix of apprehension and excitement. his brow knitted together again.

oh.

that’s what he had been getting at; that’s what he had been getting at all night, and you were sure that he had been dropping hints far longer than just tonight.

but, you couldn’t stand to be a one-time-thing, even if it just was pg-13 and not anything sexual. you liked dean, a lot. you wouldn’t be able to brush this off. you would forever want him to be close to you; dean wouldn’t be a drug you could quit easily, or at all.

you gulped. “well,” here goes nothing, “maybe tonight isn’t enough for me.” you kept yourself turned toward him, but lowered your gaze.

“what?” this time, he only spoke out of anticipation. the kind of pure excitement and joy that a child has when they get a toy they’ve been asking for for ages.

“maybe i need every night,” you continued. you mustered up the courage to look him directly in the eye.

“that works for me,” he responded almost instantly.

a more calm silence settled over the motel room. you two would need talk this out later.

you laid back down, whispering, “you wanna come over here?”

dean sat up. “yeah.” swiftly, he picked up his feet and left his bed, padding over to your bed and pulling back the sheets little by little. you opened them fully and he climbed in.

it started with the pair of you laying down next to each other about a foot away from the other. until, dean reached out his hand under the covers to search for yours.

when he found it, he grasped your hand like it was his lifeline. then, he pulled your arm; meeting his eyeline, he flicked his head over in and effort to get you to inch closer to him.

you understood, and moved ever so slightly closer to him. dean reached his other arm over and tugged your head to lay upon his chest.

dean was warm, his heat filling you. his heartbeat resounded in your ears, drowning out the buzz of the crappy ac. everything about him was comforting to you; like he and you were meant to be.

“how about you stay with me and sam for a while?” dean whispered into your hair.

you closed your eyes again. “i’d like that,” you murmured.

you’d definitely have to address this later. but, for now, this was good. this was really good.

[readsaboutreid]

Periods Suck | S.R.

this is inspired by lenaleechi on instagram's comic about hating periods as well as the gif above because it gives me mad baby fever so i guess this is season 4 softdom!spencer x gn!afab!bau!reader plus a blink and you'll miss it buffy the vampire slayer reference

content warning: breeding kink and period sex [i'm too stoned to think of any others but if you think of them please add them (kindly) in the replies and i'll add them in later :)]

this is smut, minors dni pls and thank you

"...fuck this, fuck everything and everyone, I am done, I quit," I ramble as I open the door to my apartment and kick off my dress shoes that were painfully squeezing my toes, just adding to my frustration. This case had been particularly mild compared to others but I couldn't help but be in a mood due to the littlest things done by the (admittedly innocent) local police officers. I was so relieved to finally go home and get to sleep in my own bed and curl up with a heating pad and my boyfriend with a Doctor Who marathon.

"Deep breaths, (y/n)," I hear from behind me in a soft, soothing tone as gentle hands come down to rub my shoulders from behind. I know he’s well aware what’s causing me to be in such a shitty mood. His pattern recognition skills are off the chart and while he never outright said anything to me about it he'd always be prepared with hot water bottles and chocolate when this time of the month rolled around. I turn around and bury my face into his chest with a sigh.

"I hate periods, Spencer. They suck," I whine with a sigh, my voice muffled by the knit fabric of his cardigan.

"I know, love," he sighs above me, resting his cheek on my forehead and wrapping his arms around me, "I'm sorry there's not more I could do to help."

"You're helping already," I sigh again, but this time out of contentment as we sway side to side in the entry way. "I wish there was a way I could just, like, stop having them," I mutter, my face returning to the soft fibers that I had come to find so comforting over the years.

Spencer's voice is muffled against my hair as he mutters, "That may be something I can assist you with." I don't even need to see his face to imagine the grin spread across it. Lately, he had been subtly expressing his desire for children, but after JJ gave birth to Henry, his hints have become more pressing. And technically, it was all because of me.

The night was a blur of celebration and drinks, as Emily and Garcia joined me in raising our glasses to toast the occasion. But as we were caught up in the joy of the moment, I couldn't help but let slip that after seeing the pure happiness on Spencer's face at the sight of his godchild a spark ignited within me, igniting a fierce case of baby fever that threatened to consume me entirely. Garcia, the horrible traitor that she is, had messaged a video of my confession to Spencer before I had even finished talking and before I knew it, my phone was buzzing with pictures from Spencer himself - tiny onesies and miniature sneakers - accompanied by words like, ‘just imagine a little genius of our own running around our home in this.’

Without changing his stance, he starts off on one of his typical Spencer Reid rants. "Did you know that scientific research has indicated that orgasms can alleviate menstrual cramps? It's due to the release of endorphins and muscular contractions which help relax the uterine lining," he explains with a slight hint of arousal in his tone, "not only does it address your discomfort, but it also takes care of your other request at the same time."

"We could start trying now, if you want," he suggests with a playful tone, though the subtle hint of desire in his voice sends a jolt of anticipation down my spine and settles between my thighs, igniting a fervent ache. Oh. Oh.

I finally turn my head to meet his gaze, and I am met with intense desire radiating from his eyes. His pupils are dilated, and he licks his lips before gently tracing a finger along my cheek and following up with a soft, "what do you think?"

I interrupt him by pulling his face towards mine, and our lips meet in a soft kiss. Suddenly, I'm pushed against the wall with the command to "jump," and my legs automatically wrap around Spencer as he lifts me up by my ass. Our lips met in a hungry yet tender kiss.

Our breaths come in ragged gasps as he pulls away to meet my gaze, his eyes searching mine for confirmation. I eagerly nod, my heart racing and anticipation building. Our lips collide once more, the heat between us intensifying as we lose ourselves in each other's embrace. The world fades into the background as our bodies meld together, consumed by desire. He sets me down and guides me to our bedroom by the hand, giggling slightly with excitement. I know he wants kids and we have discussed having them together in the future but the giddiness of the grown ass man in front of me ends up drawing a giggle from my own throat as well.

As we enter the bedroom, he stoops down to give me a quick kiss before heading to the bathroom. He grabs an old black towel I use for dyeing my hair and returns, laying it down on the bed and patting it lightly. He sends me sweet smile full of adoration as he whispers, "after you, my love."

I stumble towards the light switch and turn it off before making my way over to the bed. I take off my top and lay down, the darkness giving me a sense of privacy. Suddenly, I hear a soft sound from Spencer as he walks away. The lights flick back on, and he quickly closes the distance between us with just two steps. Before I can even cover myself up in the glare of the harsh light, he's already crawling on top of me.

"You're so gorgeous," he beams at me again before leaning in to kiss me gently, lowering his hips to rest between my legs as they wrap back around his hips instinctively as he begin peppering kisses all over my face and drawing endless laughs from my mouth, "I'm," kiss, "so," kiss, "lucky," kiss, "to," kiss, "have," kiss, "you."

He moves back, his lips leaving a trail of fire as they kiss and caress my skin. My jaw trembles under the soft brush of his lips, before he slowly trails kisses down to my throat. I can't help but let out a moan as his lips touch the sensitive skin there. His body presses against mine, the unmistakable hardness of his arousal pressing against my hypersensitive center. Every move, every touch, sends electric shivers through my body, igniting a primal desire within me.

My body aches with desire as I struggle to catch my breath. "Please remove your clothing now," I manage to say between deep, passionate kisses. Spencer eagerly strips down and helps me out of my own clothes before settling back between my legs. His arousal presses against the wetness between my thighs, adding to the intense heat building inside me.

"I've been craving this all week, sweetness," he mutters against my neck as he sucks feverishly at the skin, leaving love bites in his wake. "Craving you and your beautiful body." I have no idea how he managed to get me from wildly upset to wildly horny in such a short time, but instead of questioning it, I just let out a moan as I grind my hips against him, begging for his cock to enter me. He continues to tease me by rubbing the tip against my wet slit.

“P-please, Spence,” I whimper, unable to form a coherent sentence through the haze of lust I had become quickly lost within.

Spencer's eyes flicker with desire as he holds himself over me, his hands fisting the sheets on either side of my head. "Say it again," he growls, rubbing his erection against my aching center.

"P-please," I beg, my voice shaking with need.

He chuckles darkly, the sound sending shivers down my spine.

"As you wish," he murmurs before slowly sliding inside me. I gasp at the intense pleasure that washes over me, causing my body to arch off the bed and my nails to dig into his back. He begins to move in slow, deep thrusts, filling me completely and igniting a fire within me that threatens to consume every inch of my being.

As our bodies meld together in a blazing inferno, time itself seems to cease to exist. Every touch of Spencer's fingers sends shivers of ecstasy coursing through me, while each caress of his lips against mine ignites a fire within. Our movements are fluid and perfect, each one bringing us closer to the pinnacle of pleasure. I am consumed by an overwhelming sensation, my senses heightened to their limits as our passion reaches an almost unbearable intensity. It feels as though this moment could stretch on for eternity, and I never want it to end. In this single moment, there is nothing else but the all-consuming desire between us, and I give myself completely to it.

My heart pounds against my ribs as Spencer's gaze locks onto mine, his eyes filled with the same ferocity and desire that burns within me. He gives me a wicked grin, and I can feel my resolve crumble as the insatiable hunger consumes me. "You want to have my baby?" he gasps, and all I can respond with is a loud, whorish moan, entirely unable to form any words as his hips start to move ever so slightly faster.

He surges forward, his body fusing with mine in a wild, primal dance. Our movements become more frenzied, our bodies slamming together with the force of a thousand thunderstorms. My breath comes in short gasps as Spencer's relentless thrusts coax an orgasm out of me. My muscles tense, my hips bucking against him, seeking the sweet release from the intense pleasure building up inside of me.

Every thrust, every touch, every whispered word sends me higher and higher, my body arching and bucking beneath him in a frenzy of ecstasy.

Spencer's eyes are locked onto mine as he continues to drive into me, his gaze burning with an intensity that matches the fire inside us both. His hands grip my hips tightly, never losing rhythm as he thrusts into me and coaxes that sweet release from me. My body trembles and shakes with each surge, and I can feel the orgasm building, growing stronger and more intense with each passing second.

A low, guttural moan escapes from Spencer's lips as he picks up the pace, his movements becoming harder and faster. I can feel him growing more desperate, and I know that he's close to his own release.

The pleasurable ache between my legs intensifies, and I know that I'm about to reach that peak. I let out a helpless whimper as the pleasure was threatening to overtake me, and I feel as though I'm being pulled into a vortex of ecstasy. Time seems to stand still, and I'm lost in the moment, our bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

The bed creaks and groans with our passionate lovemaking, the sound echoing in my ears as I reach for the pinnacle of pleasure. Spencer's eyes are locked onto mine, and I see the same intensity in them that I feel in my own being. We're one, united in our desire for each other, and nothing else matters in this world.

His thrusts become harder and faster, the tip of his erection brushing against the most sensitive part of me with every stroke. The pleasure is overwhelming, and I can feel the orgasm building within me, growing stronger with each passing second. I cling to Spencer, my nails digging into his back as I beg him to take me over the edge.

“Gonna fill you up,(Y/N),” Spencer moans, “everyone will know who you belong to once you’re — oh fuck — carrying my fucking baby inside you.” His words send me falling over the edge and I can feel myself slipping away, my mind consumed by the intense pleasure reaching it's peak as my hips buck wildly.

Time seems to stand still as we reach the pinnacle of pleasure together. Our bodies move in perfect sync, every thrust, every caress, every whispered word fueling the fire that burns within us. The pleasure is all-consuming, coursing through my veins and reaching every cell in my body. I let out a series of orgasmic moans bordering on screams and Spencer smiles down at me wickedly, his eyes never leaving mine as his thrusts become harder and more disjointed as his own orgasm looms on the horizon. His moans grow louder and louder as the feeling of slight overstimulation makes me clench even tighter around his throbbing cock as he reaches his breaking point.

"Please, Spencer," I whisper, "make me yours, sir. P-please, please put a baby in me!"

Finally, with one last deep thrust, Spencer moans loudly and shudders above me, his body rigid as he loses himself in the pleasure of a release he had been building up to for what felt like an eternity. As Spencer's body shudders above mine, I can feel the warmth of his release filling me up, an earth-shattering feeling that takes my breath away. We lay there for a moment, our bodies still joined together, basking in the afterglow of our passion. Finally, with a contented sigh, Spencer pulls out of me and collapses onto the bed beside me.

I snap back to reality, my mind reeling from the intensity of our lovemaking. I can feel the stickiness between my legs, a reminder of the incredible moment we just shared. The room is still, the only sounds being our heavy breathing and the rhythmic beating of our hearts. I reach over to grab the bedside table, searching for a tissue to clean myself up.

"Spencer?" I say softly, my voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah, sweetheart?" he replies, still out of breath.

I flash him a saucy grin, "I think we'll have to make sure we keep trying this before my next period so I won't have to suffer through another one, for a while." I joked, while playfully poking his chest.

He chuckled softly, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear, "I think that's a great idea, my love." I couldn't help but giggle at his response, feeling a burst of warmth spread through my body.

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Invitation

Inspired by this post, I miss my precious vampire but schl work says no bg3 for me

Astarion stares at the closed tent flap in front of him, at a loss of what to do. He didn't think the argument the both of you had was that serious, but the silent treatment he was receiving right now said otherwise.

You'd stormed off in a huff, retreating into your tent and hadn't come out since, not even for Gale's cooking. That had made the others worried, and Jaheira had advised him to talk to you, but that was proving to be harder that he thought.

He pokes the flap of the tent, watching as the fabric caves beneath his fingertip and then bounces back. He knows you can see the fabric caving inwards, you're not blind, and yet he can hear no movement coming from inside the tent.

Why are so you so mad at him? It was a harmless joke, nothing more than one of his usual quips, yet you didn't react how he thought you would react. He'd rather die again than admit it but he was genuinely very concerned that this argument had broken your relationship. He didn't want to lose what the two of you had, he enjoyed it, enjoyed the moments it had given him, enjoyed the fluttering feeling in his chest it had given him.

Still, the words "I'm sorry" remain buried beneath the honeyed words he's used to saying. Apologising never meant anything good back under Cazador's thumb, and he's uncertain saying those words will do anything to quell your anger. For all he knows, you could react like Cazador, dealing pain and punishment despite his apologetic pleas, but maybe you won't. You haven't laid a hand on him yet, only giving him the silent treatment and stalking off to your tent. He continues to wait outside your tent, fiddling with his thumbs until he gathers the courage to say something.

"Darling? I know you miss me as much as I miss you. We can forget any of this happened, put it all behind us." He laughs nervously. He wants nothing more than pretend nothing happen, to erase the argument if it means you'll continue adventuring with him, continue protecting him. Still, there's no movement from the tent, no indication that you've put the argument behind. Worry gnaws away at him as the silence grows longer, but just as he is about to head back to his tent, the flap to your tent opens and you peek your head out.

His heart soars, chest fluttering with hope at the sight until you duck back into your tent, leaving him all alone outside once more. His shoulders droop and he turns away, crestfallen, but not before pawing at your tent in a last ditch attempt to grab your attention.

Your head pops out of your tent again, an annoyed look on your face. "Make up your mind about whether you want to come in or not."

Astarion blinks. "You'll have to invite me in first if you crave my company, darling."

"I don't believe I have to invite the vampire who isn't burned by sunlight and can stand in running water into my tent," you snort. "But if you sorely want an invitation, I can extend my dearest vampire Astarion Ancunin an invitation into my humble tent."

Astarion's cheeks flush, dusting them a light pink as he wordlessly ducks into your tent, settling on your bedroll out of habit. You seat yourself next to him, a good sign, and watch as he wrestles with what to say. A small smile creeps onto your face as he fumbles with his words, carefully picking them out so as to not offend you while being as genuine as possible.

"I forgive you." Your words are simple, but they cut right through.

His eyes widen, taken aback by the ease with which you say it. You smile softly, reaching for his hand but he pulls away, shaking his head.

"How…how can you forgive me so easily? What do you want from me in exchange? What can I do to earn your forgiveness?" The words tumble out of his mouth unbidden.

"Earn? After I gave it to you?" You tilt your head in confusion.

"I know forgiveness isn't freely given, but I don't understand what it is you want me to do. You don't want to sleep with me, you don't want me to serve you, so what exactly do you keep me around for? Just to pick locks? I'm confused by you and what you want from me!" Astarion nearly screams in frustration, then shrinks, anxiously babbling an apology.

He shies away as you try to move closer to him, his body trembling. His hand move to shield himself, reflexes honed over centuries of torture kicking in. You move backwards, giving him some space and he shakily looks up at you, confusion written all over his face.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Astarion. I will never hurt you, I swear." You upturn your hands, showing him that you pose no threat and he slowly relaxes.

"I…" He mumbles, picking at his nails nervously.

"It's alright, you don't have to say or do anything." You wave your hand. "Take your time."

He quietly sits there, contemplating his next move as you busy yourself with fluffing up the pillows and neatly arranging the bedroll. He silently watches you, his chest fluttering weirdly when he realises you're preparing the bedroll for him as well. This sort of affection…was a rare occurrence and even if it did occur, it was never to such a degree. Astarion lets out a sigh, and decides the best course of action is to address the argument the both of you had.

"Y/N…about the…little argument we had earlier…"

"Mmhm."

"I…want to apologise for what I said. I didn't…realise it would affect you that much." He takes a deep breath, forcing the next words out.

"I'm sorry."

You smile, reaching over to rest your hand gently on his. "I know, and I forgive you. I can't seem to bring myself to even hate you."

A laugh bubbles from your chest and you give his hand a squeeze. He squeezes back, the tension within him dissipating as you continue laughing, and soon he finds himself smiling. A fuzzy warmth envelops him and he shifts closer to you, wanting more of the warmth and light emanating from you. You tentatively wrap an arm around his waist and he leans in, indulging your need to be in physical contact with him. He lets your hand rest on his cold cheek, relishing in your gentle touches.

"Next time, invite yourself into my tent, Star." You press a chaste kiss to his lips, grinning cheekily.

"As you wish, my dear. Don't you regret saying it." He pulls you into a full kiss, hungrily devouring your lips.

"Never."

[animeyanderelover]

Can I request to you a Dazai, Gojo, Alucard and Captain (Hellsing), Tsuna and Byakuran (KHR) with an isekai'd/our world Darling, please?

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, stalking, delusional behavior, clinginess, controlling behavior, blackmailing, threats, isolation, abduction

Tags: @shumidehiro @leveyani @izanami78

Isekaid into their world

Dazai Osamu

🤎​The one advantage you have as you stumble helplessly into this world is that the environment and the city around you belongs to a place that isn't as different as your own home, minues the people with the gifts of course. The way of living and the technology aren't anything out of the norm for you though so even if you are dropped without any preparation or knowledge into this world, you can still somewhat adjust. Still though, even if you try to blend in as good as possible, something about you always stands out and to trained eyes that will become quite obvious. It just happens to be your misfortune that Dazai is a man with eyes that perceive more than the average person on the street. From the very first glance you two shared, he knew that there was something about you as you looked at him as if you knew him. Rather intriguing. There is always such a cute aura of wariness yet simultaneous curiosity when you have him around you, the fleeting glances you give him always an indicator how you have an inner debate on whether to approach him or not. Normally the average person is easily fooled by his facade yet your nervousness is the one that tells him that you know of something you shouldn't.

🤎​How do you know if he has never met you before? You are such an oddball, even though you do not seem like a threat to him. Still, he is rather curious now and would like to find out more about you yet as he finds himself stalking you, he finds himself in a dead end. There is nothing to be found about you. No origin, no family, no past. Only the police records on how you were found one day and how you were helped to find a job and enabled to live a life by yourself. Your mouth is shut when he tries to pry for answers yet all of it doesn't stop his obsession as it instead only fuels it. There is a secret you keep and Dazai is dying to know what it is that you fret to let others find out about. He would love to be the person you trust enough to tell him what it is you are keeping to yourself. If it doesn't work though, he switches tactics by drugging you and getting your mind to finally let loose as he coaxes the secrets out of you. If you were isekaid by dying, he would start musing if something similar were to happen if he would die, although of course he would only pass away with you by his side. Who knows, maybe both of you may even become reincarnated lovers if being isekaid more than once is possible.

Alucard

🩸​Your struggles are more obvious as you essentially land on earth in the pat where supernatural creatures exist yet even despite initial problems and a silent anxiety you dwell on at night, you manage to build your life from scratch. Life is still fine after all, even if you are stranded in a world you do not belong to. All that finds an abrupt end though when you meet the man in red. There is such a raw and visceral reaction when your eyes land on his tall form as your heart is trembling. Frozen is your body as your gaze is glued to the vampire until he suddenly stops and turns around and even though his eyes are hidden behind sunglasses, you feel your heart trembling as you finally gather the strength to turn around and scurry away. Your biggest mistake was paying so much attention to him. He wonders what has gotten you so frightened as red eyes follow your form sprinting away. Alucard is rather used to the intimidation humans and even other creatures tend to feel when they meet him for the first time yet your fear was not one of natural intimidation. Those yes looked at him as if they knew him and it is that aspect that gains his interest. How would you know him?

🩸​Your hopes to outrun from the vampire king are feeble and in a way you know that yourself. Whether he is stalking you from your shadows or emerges suddenly from somewhere, Alucard is always there and when you do catch sight of him it is because he chose to let you see him. He must admit that your case is a rather intriguing one as he has done his sweet research on you yet is standing here with only a handful of information. There is nothing else about you that there was there as if you were a ghost that one day just appeared. He enjoys the little hunt though which is why he doesn't decide to take the easisest course of using hypnosis on you immediately but with his arsenal of special weapons and the crawling torment he puts you under, it is only a question of time until he discovers the precious secret you have kept hidden. Eons he has been dwelling on this planet yet he has never found a little traveler like you. A human with no special skills who was transported into another world entirely which was only a work of fiction in your own. It truly is rather amusing, although it does also mean that you probably know about his past he wouldn't have want you to know about.

Captain

🐺​Captain is a creature that acts on territorial instincts when it involves his darling as he fully embraces his side as a werewolf in such cases. Perhaps things in his mind are just warped if you were to compare it it your own view. After all he found you all by yourself, confused and left all alone. There was the urge to protect and to save you when he saw you alone back then and now he knows that he felt that way because his instincts had already considered you to be his mate back then. Whatever you used to be before he found you and from wherever you came from means nothing anymore as he would have ripped you away from anyone and anything that would have stopped him. It is all rather overwhelming for you though. You got barely time to even process anything after all before you were abducted by Captain. The constant anxiety can barely be suppressed as even the best poker face couldn't fool his high sense of smell. A scent he is very familiar with as many have trembled in front of him before yet for the first time iin centuries Captain finds himself caring about the fear of his victim. After all his mate shouldn't look at him with such frightened eyes.

🐺​As a creature of keen senses and an experienced soldier though, things won't remain hidden forever. The first few days after the secret has been discovered are the scariest as Captain goes full soldier on you. Inolequent questions and commands put you under growing pressure as he puts you through interrogation. If he senses a threat, even if it is a hypothetical one that hasn't been proven to be true yet, he is committed to remove the problem by its roots. If you have been transported already once from one world to another, there is no guarantee that it won't happen again and that is especially likely if you were randomly teleoported from your old world. If the scenario would be that you died before landing in his world, Captain would at least have the assurance that the teleportation was only triggered because of your death. Whilst he is intense yet still overall silent about it, things are very different if the Major should ever find out and he definitely will sooner or later. After all if there is even a slim chance of teleportation between different worlds existing, it is something worth investigating. You remain safe from any experiments though as Captain refuses to let anything harm you.

Gojo Satoru

🩵​It is fairly easy to somehow establish a new life in his world. Even if you are aware of the curses existing in this world and even if you know about the terrifying aspects of it all, you know that most people go through their entire life being completely oblivious to it all. The same goes for you as you aren't able to perceive Cursed Energy and for that the terrors of this world lurking around everywhere remain hidden away from you. Whether that is meant to be a relief to you or not depends on your mood on that day. Sometimes you feel a light relief that you do not have to worry yourself about the hideous and ugly aspects of it all and sometimes when your shoulders feel heavy or your paranoia gets the better of you, you fear the things that you do not see. It is perhaps a bit lonely, to know about it all without being able to tell anyone. That is until you meet Gojo. What the normal human eye cannot perceive, his Six Eyes can and so he finds himself instantly focused on you as there is something quite different to you in comparison to others. Why? Because he can't perceive you. He sees you just like everyone else sees you and what is ordinary to them is like opening a new world to Gojo.

🩵​Perhaps this is one of the main reasons why he enjoys spending so much time with you. Not only to satiate his own curiosity about you but also because spending time around you is relaxing. There are no minuscule details he sees when he looks at you and it allows him to truly focus on the moment when he is with you. He values that a lot and if it wouldn't have been for his growing obsession, he would have been able to not get too caught on why you are so different from everyone else. Things can escalate very quickly, especially once he dives into your background only to discover absolutely nothing about you. Who are you? Please tell him. His desperation is urgent if you leave him dangling for too long and his paranoia can quickly lead him to lock you away at his own place where he can protect and control you better. He won't take it very well once you are finally forced to admit your secret. Satoru has already lost Suguru after all but now there is a potential risk that there will be a literal alternative world seprarating you from him, a place that he will never be able to reach if you were to be teleported again. It is frightening and worst of all is that he doesn't know what he can do to keep it from happening.

Sawada Tsunayoshi

🔥​The technology in his world may be a bit more rusty in comparison to what you are used to but otherwise it is quite possible to settle down in his world. That is until you get involved with the Vongola and their business by sheer accident. In hindsight it was rather stupid to reveal that you knew one of his guards which instantly alarmed them as no ordinary citizen should know about their true identity unless you were a spy or someone who might mean trouble from them. Most of his guards and Tsunayoshi included do not go very harsh on you after your blunt mistake, something Hibari criticises them for but ultimately complies although his scorching stares are not unnoticed by you. Tsuna himself is rather friendly though as he instructs his guards that he would like to meet the person who apparently knows for some reasons all about them. He is mostly understanding as he doesn't even force you to tell him how you knew but he also makes it clear that they will have to keep an eye on you because he isn't able to fully verify who you are even if you don't strike him as a bad person. You don't complain though as it doesn't hamper significantly with your life.

🔥​The little information they have on you does heighten the distrust amongst some of the Vongola family but since you have volunteered to let yourself be watched, Tsuna decides to not do anything to force information out on you. You find him sometimes trying to pry the information out of you himself though he only chuckles when you call him out for it. Otherwise Tsunayoshi is rather kind as he even starts helping you in your life a bit if he deems it to be necessary. Honestly, he may just manage to gain your trust enough so that you admit everything to him on your own accord whilst remaining unaware that this has been secretly the plan of his. Everything he has done, he has done because he genuinely cares for you but he is also aware that you do not seem to have a person you really trust despite having obviously something you want to talk about. He has been secretly working hard to gain your trust and if it ultimately pays off, he would be rather pleased. Whilst he is rather surprised when he hears what you have to tell, he has gone through quite a few shocking news in his life before so he won't have a very dramatic reaction to it all. He would like to know though if you may teleport away again.

Byakuran

🍬​Byakuran's world is basically the futuristic dystopia you have read about in science fiction stories before. Everything is frightening and unfamiliar as you have to fear for your own life without any protection as you are still freshly stranded on this planet. If you would have had the choice though, you would have prefered the uncertainty and the loneliness over catching the eye of Byakuran himself as you are discovered by him one day when you just happen to sneak around one of his institutions. He is a rather peculiar individual as he openly invites you to join him solely because he just happens to find you interesting and for that would like to keep you close until he has figured you out, something people like Kikyo and Bluebell scold him for accordingly. Even if you were to reject him simply because you know just how bad of a person Byakuran is, you would only lit the fire that will soon transform into a burning obsession as you only stoke his curiosity. The white-haired man has no shame in patronising your time as soon as he has figured out where you reside in as he will actively seek you out from that day on to repeat his offer to you over and over again until the thread snaps and he manipulates you.

🍬​He presents you with the information he has gotten on you but it isn't that what frightens you. After all he has as good as nothing on you that he could use to blackmail you. It is rather the fact that Byakuran has started making his own theories based on the clear lack of information and your behavior that he has been observing for a while now. Some of them are disturbingly close to the truth and you can see the intrigue shining in his eyes when he gauges your reactions and notices the little twitches you do and the way you cast your eyes elsewhere when he retells you something he came up with because it is too close to what has happened for you to remain comfortable. Byakuran has already been aware that there are other versions of him existing in other worlds but to find out that there are people with similar abilities to his is rather fascinating, especially from a world that is so different than anything he has ever imagined. Whilst he shows an eager interest to figure out a way to your world, it is more to satisfy his own curiosity. You are not going back after all. No, you are going to stay in this world stuck with him for the rest of your life. You are much too interesting to disappear on him.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐕𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊 | Teaser

He's a slave to his desires.

Tags/Warnings: Monster Hunter!Jungkook x ???Reader, Angst, Violence and murder, Romance, Strangers/Enemies to lovers, Fluff, Some comedy?, NSFW, Werewolf AU, Vampire AU, Magic AU

Wordcount: ??

A/N: This was originally meant to be a Halloween Special, but ended up growing way longer than just a 1k drabble as intended, oops. I hope you'll still like reading it- I'll attempt to write the chapters more 'stand-alone' so they can be read without an open ending, while still making you look forward to more.

-> Masterlist

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

The smell of blood is clear in the air. The sight of it is even more obvious.

Amongst the snow, his wounded prey tries to run from him, leaving drops of crimson against the white, a clear trail to follow. The gun in his hand is still warm, nozzle hot from the most recent firing, bullet most likely still lodged into skin and muscle. It was deserved, long coming, a fate decided, a task completed.

So why is he chasing you?

Because you were not his target.

The bullet in your body isn’t even his.

Jungkook is said to be cruel, unforgiving, ruthless and without mercy- but Namjoon, the only leader he respects enough to follow blindly, would deny that any day. Jungkook has a strong sense of justice, believes what he does is for the better, something that has to be done. So it wasn’t surprising that when he’d used the phone at the hideout of the guy, and called his leader, there had been a faint stutter in his words as he gives him the info he needs.

“He’s dead. I’ll leave him in the container for his people to find.” Jungkook says, well aware that this connection must be a hidden one- meaning that no one can tap into it and potentially listen in on what's said. If he wasn't sure of that, he would've never uttered his next words. “There’s.. the situation wasn’t what I expected, but it’s done.”

“how so?” namjoon asks over the phone. “You sound distracted.”

“I am.” Jungkook admits openly, though his voice stays rather monotonous. He knows he couldn’t lie even if he wanted to. “There’s been.. an uninvolved victim. I don’t think she belongs to his group- she was collared.”

“is she dead?” namjoon asks.

“I don’t know.” The younger man responds. “wounded. I’m not sure how badly, but there's a significant amount of blood.” He explains, as he looks from the red splotches on the floor in front of him, to outside the container into the woods, where you’ve run off.

Instinct, most likely. Lycans, Hybrids and Familiars alike tend to seek solitude when wounded badly, their minds controlled by instincts written in their DNA- and Jungkook has a good eye for determining one’s species just by a short moment of observation. What exactly you are he can't yet say for sure- but the tingling in the air and the bulky collar you wore were clear indications of you not being of the average human kind.

He'll find out soon enough.

“Do what you must.” Is what Namjoon tells him- and it's a gentle order, given to him with the freedom of choice. Jungkook has to now figure out if you're a threat- and if so, what your fate shall be. But no matter how friendly his leader's tone has been, it's an order to act nonetheless-

So he does as he's told, and hangs up the phone before he begins walking out the container into the wintery woods, following your trail of red.