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art blog(derogatory)
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Cosmic Funnies
pixel skylines
The Bright Sessions
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Keni
Show & Tell
Jimmy Eat World
ojovivo
YOU ARE THE REASON
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
blake kathryn
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Phantogram Three
Today's Document
Game Changer & Make Some Noise
hello vonnie
seen from Argentina
seen from China
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@shelkore
If I were Cardan Greenbriar and being a drunken fool saved my ass from Balekin's murder spree at the coronation AND got said ass in the hands of Jude Duarte I would take it as a divine sign to keep drinking clearly it's working for me
me, unloading a fitted sheet from the dryer: *squinting* what's that you've got in your mouth
fitted sheet: nothing :)))))))
me, prying open its twisted jaws: na-ah!!! give it to me RIGHT now!!
fitted sheet: *resentfully spits out a wad of 3 very damp dishtowels, a pillowcase, and a pathetically sodden washcloth*
Kudos to this post, I think of you every time I do my fucking laundry
weed n need
18+ nsfw or in which 'friend' choso gets high with you and suddenly you realize just how touch starved for you he actually is
feeding the 'choso definitely whimpers pathetically' believers
-
it starts normal. you always hung out on fridays, after classes were done for the week. you'd pass the blunt back and forth, each taking coughing-fit worthy hits in turn. a game controller sits lazily in his large hands- his head resting in your lap where you're settled in his bed.
it's always like this, easy, casual, platonic. or at least- that's the lie choso tells himself when his eyes start darting from your eyes to your lips, and when his mind starts feeling slow and syrupy. the warmth of your fingers when they card through his loose hair strands is too much- too distracting.
he can't take it.
why does he want your touch everywhere?
only you caressed him so casually, made him think things like this- like he might combust if he doesn't have more of your hands on him. if he doesn't get your lips on his. your tongue in his mouth.
"..shit." a shaky exhale. "i think i'm fucked." he declares quietly, eyes wide like he's had a sudden realization, ears pinkening in a way that makes your eyebrows knit together in confusion.
he's so gone for you it physically hurts.
his eyes flicker to your lips again- lingering this time, letting the implication hang heavy in the air like suspended knives. he watches as you furrow your brows, the way that cute scrunch between them makes his heart lurch every time without fail.
"..fucked?" you ask, mind hazy from the weed. the air feels thicker, now, and maybe its the weed- but you're struggling to catch onto his behavior, reaction slowed and relaxed.
a small whimper escapes him, his eyes squeezing shut as he leans forward to nuzzle your hip with his nose, inhaling against the denim fabric there as his fingers abandon the controller to clutch at your thighs. he feels the way you tense uncertainly beneath his fingers.
god, he wants to touch you. needs to. he peers up at you from his position, eyes hazy and glassed-over with high and something hotter. his fingers dig into the plush of your thighs- a need in his touch.
"please, can i-" the words get caught in his throat, and he bites back another pathetic whimper as your hand trails to the nape of his neck, tugging lightly on the baby hairs there.
your mind is forcibly relaxed, a soft hum on your lips- low and unhurried, the weed making your movements almost sluggish. you tug his head up to yours, eyeing him upside down, watching his gaze flicker to your lips like a magnet.
"ask nicely," you find yourself saying- almost teasing, because you know now- you can see it, the way his tongue darts out to wet his chapped mouth. the way his irises are blown wide.
and oh, he does.
and that's how you ended up here- straddling his thick thighs, rocking your hips against him slowly, his thick shaft nestled between your wet pussy lips- not inside, but a filthy wet grind that has him wimpering desperately into your bare shoulder.
each movement sends his mushroom head bumping into your clit, forcing shaky moans from your lips as you rock unhurredly against him- unrushed, enjoying the way he fits so good against you.
he's whining- fingers clutching at your hips, your ass, the small of your back. digging into your skin in a desperate bid to ground himself as you refuse to let him inside you. making him endure the sweet torture of your pussy sliding against his cock.
"not yet, cho." you coo gently, tugging at his hair as you grind your hips forward again, wiggling them like the tease you are. "needa hear you beg pretty for it." and it's like you're trying to unravel him.
he whimpers again, spluttering out a response through his weed-high and pussy-drunk state of mind, and he's not even inside your slick cunt yet. "please- please baby, lemme in." he pleads, eyes tearing up as his hips buck up helplessly against your own. "need to- fuck, need to feel you. please."
he begs so needy for you that you can't deny him anymore, aching to feel his thick cock fill you fully, and you reach down to grip the thick base of him, lining the bulbous tip up with your soaked folds. the stretch of your lips around his girth makes your eyes roll back, fingers clinging to his shoulders to ground yourself as you sink onto him.
and choso? he gasps, a choked out sound getting caught in his throat at the feeling of you finally wrapped around him- finally finally, his cock buried inside your pretty pussy- the feeling is borderline euphoric.
your cunt sucks him in greedily, his hips bucking up and sheathing him the rest of the way inside you, stretching your walls so wide you think you might feel him in your throat.
he can't help himself- the way he's planting his feet on the bed, large hands gripping your plush hips to bounce you on his cock, spearing into you with every thrust as he sets a needy and punishing pace from the start. every time his tip slams into your g spot- he whimpers, choked out moans falling from his lips when he feels you squeeze around him.
"fuck, fuck-" he stutters out, and you know he's close, cock pulsing with the overwhelming need to paint your insides white with his come. you rock against him harder, your own orgasm building as he fills you perfectly over n over.
his face is buried in your shoulder when he moans, pathetic and loud, finally spilling into you with a final snap of his hips- teeth sinking into your shoulder to hide the embarrassingly pitched whine on his lips when you flutter around his sensitive cock, clenching and coming around him with a moan of your own.
he's panting when he finally comes down. his hands planted firmly on your hips, breaths ragged against your skin. your both sweat-slick, highs clearing but in no hurry to move. he clings to you, as if afraid you'll vanish if he let's go- so neither of you do. content to ride this moment as long as it lasts.
"..waited forever for that." he mumbles almost drunkenly against your shoulder, a shaky exhale on his swollen lips. "worth it."
you don't think the friend hangouts on fridays will be the same after this.
honestly the discourse on this site is so bad that I have a new hot take: if you use tumblr at all fuck you
Checked their account: turns out op is a fucking tumblr user themselves so????? Idk :/
which one of you motherfuckers reblogged this again
You did, my leige
No, that can’t be right.
Absolutely horrid that a 10hr sleep does not cure you of all that ails you
it doesn't even cure me of being tired
BBC Source here
Holy shit THEY STOLE THE CROWN JEWELS
THEY ESCAPED ON A SCOOTER
SMALL CHAINSAWS
I've discovered the worst game in human history. I call it Dog Toy Or Sex Toy, who wants in
How would this even be challenging? Are there dick-shaped chew toys?
Round One
Dog toy
Wrong! That is the Cloud 9 Novelties Silicone Mushroom Massager in Teal.
Round Two:
D-dog...toy?
World Heritage Post
The fear in the second one is like someone realizing that the Russian Roulette game is being played with Real Bullets
Be yourself so ppl looking for u can find u
༄.° need to touch you, sweetheart
bestfriend!mark grayson who gets hit with an aphrodisiac on a mission and shows up at your window.
warnings; porn with a little plot/porn with feelings, p in v, fingering, unprotected sex, overstimulation, all the jazz, mark's needy for you
(i must be ovulating so lets get this outta the way)
no beta we die like the og guardians (and rex my baby)
~
it had started a quiet night in- home alone, not expecting any visitors, lounging on your bed clad in a loose pair of shorts that rode up a little too high to wear in public, a loose t-shirt cropped and hanging off one shoulder.
music hums softly in the background, coming from the laptop on your desk, while you sprawl bored and mindless- your best friend mark was on a mission, your parents weren't home, friends all busy.
until a firm tap against your bedroom window sounds over the music.
you stand, unsure if the sound had really even happened because it was only once, but then it sounds again- firmer, twice. a familiar blur of black hair outside the pane.
your bare feet pad across the floor, quickly sliding the window open for who you now knew was mark, a puzzled expression knitting your brows together.
his eyes are almost hazy when they land on you, fingers digging into the window frame, a few knicks from the battle seemingly, but nothing major.
"i didn't expect us to hang tonight- your mission over already?" you ask casually, stepping back to allow him into the room. he steps through the frame, still in his suit but maskless- like he'd come straight to your home from wherever Cecil had sent him.
his eyes rove over the room- then over you, with something heated that you've never seen in his eyes before. you'd been friends for years, long before he finally became Invincible, but this look was unlike anything you'd ever seen on him.
brown eyes drag over your form, the way your shorts ride up a little too high on your thighs, the way your shirt hangs off one shoulder- no bra, cool night air wafting through the window and hitting your exposed collarbone. he swallows, hard, and seemingly forces himself to meet your eyes again.
"yeah- yeah it's over." he inhales shakily, fingers clenching into fists and then unclenching at his sides like he's fighting some internal battle. his eyes are hazed over, his chest rising and falling with more effort than normal, and you notice.
you raise a brow, looking over him as you take a few steps closer, looking him over for any injuries you may have missed- something to explain the odd behavior. "mark.. you okay?" your hand reaches out to brush over his shoulder, a familiar casual gesture.
but fingers wrap around your wrist, and he's tugging you into his chest with unrestrained force- only enough not to hurt. a gasp of surprise falls from your lips when the hard muscles of his chest, still covered in his suit, press against your own through your thin t-shirt.
and you think to yourself maybe you should have bothered to put on a bra, just in case, because now your nipples are hardening against the firmness of his pecs, and he's towering over you with a look in his eyes that makes your stomach flip in on itself.
his other hand finds your waist, fingers trembling with something akin to restraint, but the grip is firm- possessive, even. in all your years of friendship, you'd never seen mark like this, and he'd never touched you like this.
he'd never looked at you like a starving man staring down a meal.
"i can't-" his voice rings out, painfully strained, soft in the small gap of air between you as he leans down, nose brushing over the exposed skin of your neck where your shirt swoops down, a low groan on his lips that sounds almost pained. his fingers tremble where they continue to cage your wrist in his grip, not that you were even trying to fight him, the other slipping beneath your shirt, letting his fingers splay out over the smooth skin of your waist.
you can't stifle the yelp of surprise when he suddenly backs you into the wall of your bedroom, all hard lines and muscle caging you in as he presses against you with a closeness you'd never experienced from him. his hand presses your wrist into the wall, fingers still gripping your hip with an intensity that makes your breath catch, his own warm against your skin as his lips hover over the exposed column of your shoulder.
"mark- what's going on?" you ask again, confusion and concern settling into your veins at the out-of-character display from your best friend. "is everything okay?" your voice wavers traitorously, because you couldn't help the way that being pressed so close to mark- so caged beneath him, back pressed against the wall, makes something hot curl in your stomach.
he huffs out another shaky breath, tilting his head back to lock eyes with you again- and they're still hazy, but they're more readable now. a heated intensity in them burning like a flame doused in kerosene. "i can't stop it- it's not supposed to happen like this." and now he was confusing you, because what was he even talking about? "but god i can't stop."
and he doesn't even give you time to question his words, because he's sliding a knee between your legs, trapping you even more so as his thigh rubs up against you through your shorts suddenly, in a way that makes your head spin. his head falls to your shoulder again, lips skimming over your pulse, brushing up to your ear as his teeth scrape over the sensitive skin just beneath it.
and when he speaks, voice low and ruined like he could no longer win whatever fight was going on inside him- "i need to touch you, sweetheart." his tongue swipes over the skin, and he almost groans at the small gasp it pulls from you. "and i need you to let me."
he'd jokingly referred to you as cute names in the past- but this was different, his voice sounding like restraint and desire mixed up into an intoxicating concoction- like he was fighting everything in him to even say those words and not just take.
you'd never seen him like this- he'd never seemed to want you like this, (oh, how wrong you were)- but the way heat pools between your thighs at the words, the way his leg tenses up to press harder against you just to hear you gasp again? it's shamefully undeniable.
so damn whatever consequences may come.
his lips leave your ear, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes again; brown pools a mix of restraint and raw need, a hazy film over them but that same mark beneath it all, still fully aware of everything that he's doing?
you can't even regret it when you nod shakily, your chest racing so fast it feels like your heart may jump from it. your hips squirm against his hold, the way his thigh rubs against your clothed heat making your lips quiver.
your voice is as shaky as your nod- breathless, even. "yeah, yeah okay."
and that's all the permission he needs.
his lips find yours with fervor, his lips rough and intense as his tongue slides along your bottom lip immediately, wasting no time as his leg shifts up again to feel the way your spine arches off the wall into him, to draw a pretty little gasp from your lips that allows him to slide his tongue against your own.
it's dizzying, and you'd be lying to yourself if you said you hadn't imagined what his lips would feel like- hadn't thought about him pressed against you like this, all hard muscle coiled in snapped restraint.
his fingers slide along your belly, still dipped under your waistband as the pads ghost over your navel- a shiver and a spark of heat to your core, the way you're aching for him already almost embarrassing in itself.
he doesn't waste time, he can't- not when this desperate need, all consuming fire through his veins, screams for him to touch you and take you until neither of you can breathe. and oh, as if he hadn't thought about it- too many nights to count, where he'd confess properly, take you nice and slow, split you apart on his cock while he told you he loved you over and over again.
it wasn't supposed to happen this way- but that didn't matter anymore. not when he got hit with something on that mission, something that made him dizzy with need for you- and he couldn't control it anymore, couldn't hold back.
so he doesn't.
his fingers finally dip lower, not slow or teasing- fingers swiping over the wetness that's formed on the outside of your panties, his lips and teeth a blazing trail over the exposed skin of your neck, sucking marks into pretty skin he knows will be there tomorrow, he wants them to be. when he feels just how wet you are for him already, he groans- low in his throat, almost guttural, fingers pressing against you through cloth as his teeth bite into the junction of your shoulder.
your head falls back against the wall, body jolting under his touch like sparks under a match, and he doesn't waste any time in sliding his fingers back up and into your panties, collecting your wetness and smearing it up over your sensitive clit, drawing a gasp from your lips. his fingers circle the sensitive bud ruthlessly, no teasing touches or slow start, just unfiltered need to make you come undone. his motions are precise, small punishing movements that have your fingers clawing at his suit-clad shoulders, his name falling from your lips in broken whimpers.
"fuck, mark- god," your words are breathless, each stroke of his fingers coiling the knot inside your belly tighter, and he's committed to the cause, because every low moan that spills from your lips has him groaning into your shoulder.
he removes his fingers for a moment, and you almost whimper at the loss of contact, wrist straining against his grip and the other digging into his shoulder as your eyes watch the way he brings his fingers to his lips; wet and glistening with your arousal, dragging his tongue along them filthily.
and oh, if the sight doesn't make you arch farther into him.
he groans as the taste hits his tongue, sucking your juices from his fingers like an appetizer, brown eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your head spin. "fuck, you've been wanting this too, haven't you pretty girl?"
his words make you mewl- because of course you had. and he knows, he can taste it, the way you're falling apart for him so soon.
his lips find yours again, a hint of your own arousal on his tongue as he devours your mouth once again. he releases your wrist, only to bring both hands to the fabric of your shorts and tear straight through them in one firm tug.
a firm reminder of the fact he was the strongest man on earth, who right now, was looking at you like he had no plans of leaving this room any time soon.
one hand tugs your thigh up, spreading your legs open for him as he presses it into the wall. he tugs your panties to the side, cool air hitting heated skin, before sliding his fingers through your wet folds and sliding two inside with one quick thrust- no teasing, the stretch burning deliciously as he sets a brutal rhythm. his thumb circles your clit again, drawing out broken moans from your lips that he swallows greedily while long fingers curl inside you in a way that has you seeing stars. each stroke tightens the coil inside your gut, hips arching into his touch as his fingers fuck you open, speeding up when he feels the way you clench around him.
"so tight, wrapped around my fingers like this." he groans out against your lips, each word filthy and laced with unrestrained need. "been thinking about stretching you like this for so long- can't stop it anymore."
his strokes are punishing, thumb never letting up over your clit even as he leans down to nip at one of your nipples through your thin shirt. your panties are soaked, dripping over his hand as you clench around his fingers, a broken moan falling from your lips as he undoes you from the inside out. his speed borders on inhuman, fingers turning rough as he fucks them into you with a pace that seems Viltrumite-driven.
you can feel the knot inside your core growing tighter, each curl of his fingers and tight circle of your clit sending your legs wobbling beneath you- one hand curling into his shoulder and the other tugging at his hair in a way that makes him moan into your skin. "mark- i, i can't, i'm gonna-" your words are desperate, teetering on the edge of a cliff as his rhythm continues- never faltering for even a second.
he sounds almost satisfied at how wrecked your words ring out, lips curling into a smirk against your collarbone as he sucks a dark mark into the skin. "gonna cum all over my fingers for me? i know you can- go on, sweetheart." his words are desperate, too- like his own existence was riding on the need to make you fall apart for him.
and when you do? when your walls flutter around him, squirting all over his fingers as they curl into that squishy spot inside you, fucking you through your orgasm as it crests beautifully? his eyes never leave your face, taking in every detail of the way his name falls from your lips in a broken moan, eyebrows knitted together, eyes closed and head back against the wall with nothing in your pretty head but him.
and he's nowhere near satisfied.
you're barely coming down when he yanks you from the wall, tossing you onto your mattress like you weigh nothing, tugging your panties off forcefully and your shirt over your head.
you're hardly regaining your senses before he's tugging his own suit off, a pair of boxers underneath, a painfully large bulge in them that has your mouth almost watering.
he doesn't give you time to stare, because his eyes are roaming over your exposed breasts, and then his mouth is capturing a nipple, rolling it between his teeth with a tantalizing suck while his fingers rub over your overstimulated clit again.
your fingers claw at his shoulders, desperate, sensitive and overstimulated- "mark- ah, mark i can't." your words are a broken whine on deaf ears, hips writhing on the bed when he finally pulls his hand away, tugging off his own boxers and staring down at you- all spread out, flushed and wrecked; all for him.
it wasn't supposed to happen like this- with whatever drug was racing through his veins, making him desperate, rushing, needy- but he couldn't even care.
your eyes find the size of him- those damn Viltrumite genes- long and thick and already leaking, like he's been waiting for this far longer than either of you will admit aloud. your gaze is wide, because you'd imagined it but didn't know it was this large.
and oh, if it doesn't make your pussy throb for him even more.
"mark i can't- that's not going to fit." your words are breathless, but the heat in your eyes betrays the protest in your words, the way your teeth gnaw into your lip as you can't tear your eyes away.
he leans in, brushing a small reassuring kiss over your jaw, fingers gripping the base of himself to slide his tip through your folds- not pressing in yet, just letting both of you feel how thick he is, how ready you are for him. despite the drug in his veins making him wild for you- he was still mark underneath it all, and he could never hurt you.
"yes it will, pretty girl." his fingers run over your skin, fingers tweaking your nipple again while he slides himself along the wetness of your puffy pussy. "all wet and ruined like this for me? you want me to split you open on my cock, sweetheart." his teeth nip at your jawline, and he aligns himself with your entrance, already stretched slightly from his fingers.
your fingers curl into his shoulders, his hair, anywhere you can find purchase when he hikes your thighs up, pressing them into the mattress, spread wide enough for him to slide inside in one thrust- the stretch burning as the euphoria of being so filled causes you to cry out loudly from both pain and pleasure, blurring together in your core.
his thumbs brush away wetness under your eyes, a soothing kiss to your lips, but he can't hold himself back- not when the aphrodisiac is coursing through his veins like fire, not when you're so tight and wet around him like a drug. not when your stomach bulges slightly where his tip nudges your cervix, deeper than anything or anyone had ever been before. he pulls back out before slamming in again, a broken moan on his lips and a cry on yours- the pleasure swimming through you and mingling with the stretch of being so entirely full of him.
"that's it, baby, doin' so good- taking it all for me." he purrs against your jawline, unable to help himself when he sets a brutal rhythm, pulling back only to slam into you, tip bruising your cervix with every thrust. his eyes find the way your stomach distends around him, unable to tear his eyes from the sight as he claims you entirely- inside and out. "so tight wrapped around me like this, not gonna last long sweetheart."
his pace is as brutal as his fingers, never wavering as his motions becoming erratic- muscles pressing you into the mattress as each thrust drags shattered moans from your lips, fucking deep and hard into you like he'll never get enough.
"mark, mark i can't please-" your hands claw at the sheets, at his shoulders, anything to anchor yourself through the pleasure he's drawing out of you. it's dizzying, every bruising press of him, thick and hot and relentless through your wrecked folds, has you seeing stars.
he almost whimpers against your skin when you clench tighter around him, feeling how close to the edge you're getting- how bad he wants to bring you there, again and again. the drug in his veins fuels every thrust, every stretch of you around his cock like he'd imagined for so long, and he already knows he'll never get tired of this. "yes you can, sweetheart- cum all over this cock for me."
his words are enough to send you over the edge again, and he drives into you deeper, fucking you through every overstimulated shock as your eyes roll back from the second release. your body writhes under his hold, and when your pussy wraps around him so tight, squirting all over him like he's the only one who could ever unravel you so good?
he follows right after, spilling into you with a deep groan that echoes over your skin as he fucks his release into you with fervor.
and you thought that he'd slow down- that whatever haze in his eyes would have dissipated, maybe be gone.
but it isn't, and neither of you have time to recuperate before his fingers are digging into your thighs, soaked cock still painfully hard and slipping out of you while he drags you to the edge of your mattress.
he bends you over it, one hand in your hair and the other dragging his tip through your slicked folds again, thrusting back inside like he belonged there. your broken whimpers fall from your lips like a mantra, mixtures of 'i can't's and broken sounds from overstimulation even as his hips rut into you again- pushing himself deeper this time, each drag of him against your walls threatening to make your vision black out.
"not enough, baby- need you still. can't stop till you're ruined." his thrusts are punishing, grip hard in your hard but soft enough not to hurt you, hips snapping into yours almost hard enough to bruise. the stamina and speed at which he fucks himself into you is definitely of Viltrumite origin (as is his size), and you struggle to even form a coherent thought when he grips your hip and impales you back on his hard length with a groan. "can't stop till you're mine, till i've fucked you so good you can't even think of anyone else."
and each word is punctuated by a thrust of his hips, erratic and pressing you harder into the mattress as he works to pull a third orgasm from you- sending you higher and higher even as the overstimulation borders on pain.
"was always gonna end like this, sweetheart- and now i can't stop."
can't stop because of the drug, can't stop because he needs you, has needed you for so long it's like a boiling volcano finally bursting under the effects of the aphrodisiac- can't stop because you feel so good wrapped around him like this finally, and he's already addicted to it.
and when his thumb finds your clit, lifting your hips off the mattress to angle himself deeper- punishing circles in time with his insanely fast and steady rhythm? he has you cumming all over his cock again, face pressing into the mattress with soundless whimpers that can't even form anymore.
"that's it, pretty girl- all for me." his fingers run down your sides as his thrusts slow (only temporarily), soothing kisses down your spine as he shivers at the way your pussy sucks him in so greedily, even as wrecked and ruined as you are.
and he doesn't let it end, he can't, so when he pulls you onto his lap, guiding your hips while you ride him through your overstimulated high? you can't even fight him, not when he draws a fourth orgasm from you, not when he spills into you again with a sharp bite to your shoulder.
not when he whispers murmured confessions into your ear as you shake against him, the way he never softens inside you- the way he can't stop, won't be able to for hours.
the way somehow, you find your voice and whisper those same confessions back, even as he bucks up into you again, pussy-drunk and relentless, even when you both become overstimulated and sensitive- the way a sticky ring forms around the base of him from the sheer amount of times he's made you fall apart.
and maybe it wasn't supposed to happen like this-
-but oh, neither of you seemed to care.
"holy shit they finally confessed, what comes next--"
— MISC. TWEETS ★ KPDH SMAU⭑.ᐟ
characters: Saja Boys x GN!Reader
sypnosis: im testing to see if you guys like this sort of stuff! im thinking of putting things like these between my chatfics but we'll see! reqs for this are open as well.
we need to keep this circulating so it can find the people who are about to stay up for 3 to 4 hours
bite me.
xavier thorpe x vampire!reader (written in third pov, no use of 'y/n') except she has a hard time controlling her thirst and ends up at xavier's paint shed tw, this is kinda nausty (perhaps dubcon in the sense of her drinking from him without biting but technically without his verbal consent) not proofread.
.
"how could such a good girl love a vampire? kisses aren't enough, i wanna bite through you."
.
the smell lured her in first.
god, the smell.
bright red visible in the dark hallways as she followed her nose to the source. boot soles scuffing against the cobbled floor, the sweet smell of copper coating the air like a thick perfume of temptation.
the moment she breathed its scent, the thirst wrapped itself around her throat like hot coils that burned with every whiff or swallow.
fuck was she thirsty.
she tried to remember the last time she drank, whether it was a rabbit in the woods or a blood bag from the infirmary.
the memory was far lost on her, the smell of blood wafting up through her nose, settling itself around her brain like a warm blanket that begged for her to come have a taste.
she didn't know the source, and not a single primal instinct within her cared.
it brought her outside, and her body seemed to move on autopilot, following the invisible thread leading her to the source of the delectable smell in the air. she didn't notice that the grass was damp, and the smell of damp earth echoed around her like an afterthought to the main course.
with a sense of smell that could rival the wolves', her nose twitched as a hare wandered it's way onto the grounds a few kilometers away from her; out of sight, but presence made known simply by scent. her focus did not waver, although she acknowledged that rabbit typically made an acceptable evening snack.
she also paid no mind to the fact she was headed straight towards a psychic's shed, and the smell of paint layers in with the other fumes in the air.
every sense inside her is locked on the sweet iron aroma that is wrapping itself tighter and tighter around the column of her throat by the second.
she doesn't knock as her hand pulls open the door to the shed. her legs don't even stop moving until her bright red pupils land on her classmate, bloody rag pressed to his neck, large scratches peaking out from underneath plastered on his pale skin.
the smell is most potent now, the source inches away from her and her blown eyes take in the scene before her. she stills herself, legs becoming stone beneath her as she stands unmoving. xavier is oblivious for only a moment, the silent wince he lets out falling on her ears as he dabs at his wounds with the rag.
she feels her throat audibly gulp, dry and aching and thirsty, and god the source is right there in front of her, ready for her to drink from it as if its a holy fountain and she's its worshipper.
its then that he sees her, spine straightening in surprise. his voice is full of shock and laced with pain when he speaks. "you-? what are you doing in here-" the rag falls from his neck as he stares at her in disbelief- as if he doesn't realize the almost comical situation he's put himself in.
she pays no mind to the terrifying painting of the monster that lays before her, how late xavier was in his shed or how suspiciously convenient this entire situation is when there's an active murderer on the loose. she doesn't even question where the scratches came from, if he was just attacked by said monster-
-she is aware she's about to join the list.
but she can't help herself, not when he's looking deliciously disheveled in more ways than she'd openly admit, injured and bleeding and spouting blood like a fountain made just for her thirsty lips.
and she's on him in seconds.
with an inhuman speed xavier had never seen before, he was pushed against a shelf on the side of his shed, rag knocked from his hand and discarded as he's pinned with a strength just as animalistic. a hand on his chest, pushing him back and a palm wrapped around his head, holding the wounds on his neck open like an offering to herself.
his nose is pressed into her arm, and oddly he finds no discomfort at her closeness. he does, however, find discomfort at the way she's got him held down like prey, eyes hungry and starved, bestowed on him like he was the meal.
fuck, he should be scared shouldn't he?
his fingers curl around her arm, as if he could try to pry her off him if it came down to it, and his pupils glance up to try and lock eyes with her. she stays fully focused on his wounds, not moving in to feast but keeping him completely at her mercy.
her fangs poke out from beneath her pink lips, and she licks them with an obvious uncertainty. the burn in her throat is unbearable, and every urge and nerve is tell her to bite and tear and drink; to feed the burning thirst ripping its way through her undead body.
just a sip, just one small bite and she'd be done-
xavier was silent, at mercy in her hold on him as he stood; it was terrifying, the situation he was currently in- the way he felt like tiny prey in her clutches. he couldn't deny the fact that he was slightly turned on, too.
unsure what to say to get her attention, maybe even get her to release him- (but did he really want her to anyway? god what was wrong with his head)- xavier cleared his throat.
her pupils flicked to his for a mere moment, and he wondered if it only took that long for her to read everyone feeling behind his eyes. her nose found the column of his throat, running along his skin and beneath his earlobe so softly that it almost tickled. he felt her inhale, deep and beastly, as if she was trying to fill her lungs entirely of him.
"you smell so good, xavier." her voice is breathy and her words come out in a light moan, as if the smell of him and his blood was enough to arouse her. she made a sound like a purr as her body came closer to his, but not one of a small feline- one of a predator closing in on its catch. "and i'm so thirsty."
his breath is lost on him, and he stiffens both from the sound of her words in a way he'd never heard before- and the closer proximity of her cold skin. xavier's body instinctively shifted closer to her; it felt filthy, wrong, insane, yet he couldn't help himself.
the blood thirst in her eyes was beautiful to him.
she felt the way his body yearned for her bite, unlike any prey she'd ever caught. tendrils of sanity writhed in her haze-filled mind; he was human, he was xavier and she couldn't hurt him.
but she was so thirsty and he wanted her to drink.
a single drop of blood falls from a gash in his neck, and her eyes flicker to the movement with a focus xavier's never seen. he watches and feels, the moment her tongue meets his skin as she licks a tentative strip along his skin. red stains her tongue as she catches the droplet before it can fall lower, gliding upward along the streak it left and lapping at his wound.
a groan falls from his lips and her ears catch it immediately.
its dirty, sinful, sweet, the way he tastes and the way he shivers as her wet tongue travels the length of one of his wounds; he's pliable in her hands, entirely at her mercy and god if she isn't basking in the pleasure of it.
the first drop of his blood was the bait, and now she's on the hook as the sweet iron floods across her tastebuds, every drop soothing the burn in her throat. she sucks a bit on the torn flesh, urging more velvety liquid from the source and lapping at it greedily.
the pain xavier once felt in his neck was replaced by the alluring pleasure of her mouth, sucking and licking everything his wounds would give her. distantly he was aware he should stop her, but his body betrayed his mind as a series of gasps fell from his lips at her ministrations. her fangs lightly scraped at the flayed skin, but never pierced, never sunk into his vein like he knew they desperately ached to.
that alone gave him the reassurance he needed to trust the monster he was pinned beneath.
it could almost be mistaken for cleaning his wound, the way her mouth licked away the smears of red. but they both knew this was more than that, it was intimate, dangerous, addicting.
she felt herself teetering on the edge of her control. with a final lick, her eyes rolled back at the pleasure bursting on her tongue; her throat had burned for the taste, and the smell of him still polluted the air around her, engulfing every sense.
her eyes lock with his, that'd seemingly never left her. the physic's eyes flicker to her lips, coated in red, and her tongue darts out to wet them.
a second passes, maybe two, where they're inches away and the aroma of him is flooding her nose, her chest, her throat, her nerves. she's lost in it, the taste of his essence, the vital fluid running through his veins, and the way his body is responding to her every touch and movement- like he'd let her do this forever if she wanted.
seconds are years to her, though- and it's enough time for her brain to disconnect from rational thought and she's on him again.
lips crash in a frenzy, wound forgotten and caution discarded, and he's responding to her instantly. the taste of his own blood seeps into his mouth as her tongue prods against his, cold and metallic.
it's bloody, disgusting, but savory nonetheless and both of them are falling into an abyss they don't know how they ended up in. his hand finds the back of her head, holding her steady as he palms her waist to force her closer.
her hands are everywhere, in his hair and on his chest. her throat no longer burns but the need in her chest still resides, and she finds that every hungry kiss and desperate touch numbs the ache a little more.
xavier's the first to pull away, yet only to breathe. she does not have that need, being undead, and hums in understanding as she pulls back slightly to give him space.
she can't help but think he'd look pretty suffocating, maybe between her thighs or against her lips, begging for breathe and her waiting until the last moment to grant it to him.
her tongue darts out to wet her lips at the enticing thought, and vermillion eyes run over his disheveled body as he attempts to catch his breathe. "you taste quite palatable." she practically purrs, tone pleased and she sounds as if she's drunk on wine.
he's unsure if she means his blood or his lips, and opts to accept the compliment at face value. he stumbles for a response, and feels her arms pulling away from his own. its unlike him to panic, so uncharacteristic of him to grab her wrists and tug her closer, try to pull her in like honey luring a fly.
his brain can't even fully comprehend the situation he was just in, the fog and slight arousal fogging the logic in his own mind, and he tugs her closer still.
red eyes twinkle in surprise, a slim hand coming up to clasp his jaw as she leads him into another kiss, one that tastes like goodbyes and something unfinished. her lips linger, ever so slightly, and a gentle nip at his bottom lip with her fang has her pulling away. the sting snaps through him like a whip, but theres no blood; and he's vaguely aware that she could've drawn it if she intended.
her lips are at his ear, muttering a promise unfinished, so quiet he strains to hear. "farewell, xavi. 'till next time." and the sentence itself sends a chill down his spine, cold and biting.
suddenly the space in which he held her is empty, and all that's left is the rattling of the shed door as it shakes on its hinges.
there's no evidence left behind that it had ever happened, and xavier's keenly aware of that. but he smells it, the slight smell of the perfume that was always on her clothes. aromatic and thick, distinctly her. it lingers in the air, on his clothes where she had touched him, on his lips and on his skin.
it's the only thing that has him convinced this wasn't one of his odd dreams, that she really was here before him, that she drank from his wound-
he shakes his head, running a hand down his face as if that'll clear the ghastly and unholy thoughts from his corrupted mind. he grabs a fresh towel and a bandage to tend to his wounds, as if the action of patching himself would distract him- it didn't. she was everywhere, now. even if it seemed like she was never here to begin with.
and maybe it was twisted and depraved, but he couldn't wait till next time.
.
ahh an idea for pt 2 perhaps?? a teaser??
the knock at her dorm surprised her, getting visitors to a vampire den was quite uncommon.
what shocked her even more was the face behind the door. even more so, the needy and distraught expression he wore.
his eyes found hers with an urgency she'd never seen from the physic, and she raised an eyebrow in question.
"to what do i owe the pleasure, xav-"
"i need you to do it again, please. drink from me."
Oh good, now I have a cheat sheet for Uncensored Nate
It’s been almost 2 years since the first season of Wednesday has come out and I will defend Tyler with my heart. He was groomed, tortured, enslaved by Thornhill and neglected by his father. Everybody always overlooks that he was most possibly sexually assaulted by Thornhill and y'all still find a reason to hate him. BOTH female and male SA representation should be taken seriously and equally, not just one.
reassurances in ink.
my lil maori man matt x mc sun kissed secrets blurb
can't get this man outta my headdd he seems like he'd be so dominant and protective but would also praise tf out of his woman i need him
NOT proofread, it is 2am
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it was no secret you were popular in the villa, with many fellow islanders following at your heels and fighting for your attention.
old flames, then casa and now new ones, people you hadn't even looked at twice seemed to have tripped and fallen for you.
both fan clubs and ironically hate clubs had formed around you, eyes of admiration or hate, sending hearts or daggers.
it was all making your head spin.
going on a show to find a 'lil love, and being on the receiving end of multiple nasty attitudes and many love letters. options, options- your head was on a spindle trying to choose.
it felt as if it was confession after confession. you were with kami, whom you'd had a really strong connection with- then just before you're whisked off to casa, your best friend in here decides he has the hots for you too.
flashforward, you've been coupled with matt and everything has been honestly amazing. you meet irena, she's stunning, and she's interested. her couple? also interested, because apparently nathan's been feeling you this entire time and never even said anything.
you groan in frustration, tossing your head back exasperatedly. you felt like a child's toy in a daycare being pulled twenty directions; you were flattered, but exhausted.
not to mention the uncalled for agg from both viper cunts, who seemed intent on both keeping you from 'their' men and dooming your current couple as well.
you're basically doomed.
you toss your hairbrush onto the vanity, and glance at yourself in the mirror. everyone else has gone to bed, aside from rose and darin still being at sleepovers. you decided to take the extra silent time in the dressing room to think, although it deemed fruitless.
you distract yourself with picking out an outfit, sliding on a simple lace pair of panties and long-sleeved bralette.
deciding nobody will notice your absence for a bit longer, you quietly slip out of the door and down the hall, tiptoeing across the cold tile.
you make your way outside, almost collapsing on the daybed as the cool night air nips at your exposed skin; you shiver, but stay outside nonetheless.
it's impossible to stop your brain from wandering again, a maori boy popping up in your head. you'd be lying if you told yourself you weren't compatible, hell it even said so on paper. but that wasn't all- on top of pure chemistry and shared interests, he was insanely attractive.
every time his dark eyes lingered on you, burning holes in your skin, you felt as if you'd melt on the spot. he was intimidating but gentle all the same, and the way he'd lead you with small gentle touches and encouraging words added even more allure.
the more complicated and drama-centered things became, you worried if he'd shift his focus- you were both still open after all. you could admit that exploring things with someone with less fireworks going off around them would be incredibly easier.
anything revolving around you was never simple in here.
footsteps padding down the hall to the door made you perk up on the daybed, glancing at the doorframe as matt's body filled the previously empty space. he looked tired, a hand running through his tousled hair as his eyes take you in immediately.
"there you are.. 'as wonderin' why you were takin' so long," his voice is thick like honey, and he takes a step towards the bed. he raises an eyebrow at you, seemingly out of sorts and all alone. "you alright, gorgeous?"
matt doesn't wait for an answer as he's stepping towards you, taking a seat on the daybed beside you. his eyes never left you, looking at you even more intently, and you glance down to see he's put a respectable distance between you; you wonder if he's worried about overwhelming you further.
"'m okay, just needed to breathe, i guess." you offer him a smile, which he returns easily.
"and think?" the maori man looks at you knowingly, and your nod feels almost guilty.
you lean back into the cushions, avoiding his eyes, afraid to know what he's thinking. "it's just a lot," you fiddle with your sleeve absentmindedly, "lots of feelings 'n drama." you laugh a little, as if it's a joke, even when you both know it isn't.
matt nods, as if he understands everything even though you've said little words. maybe it's the emotion in your voice, or the way you nervously look at the stars to avoid his eyes. where has all your confidence gone?
he leans forward, his thumb catching your chin, just gentle enough to tilt your gaze down to him. his lips are quirked in a slight smile, one of reassurance that makes you feel slightly warmer than when you'd first stepped outside. "i understand, babydoll. if you need anything i'm on it." he smiles reassuringly again, and a warmth flutters in your chest that only seems to ignite when you're with him.
a genuine giggle escapes this time, and your own smile blooms as you stare up at him. his thumb slides along your bottom lip, skin soft against yours as his palm brushes your cheek.
matt doesn't need an explanation or a tell-all. he just understands, and lets his actions do the comforting. yet another thing that is making you fall for the man before you- it's so easy and natural.
"d'you want me to stay? or i c-" you nod before he can finish, and you scoot up on the cushions to make room for him. matt slides up beside you, body fitting perfectly against yours as the heat from his skin warms your chilled one. you press your cold fingers to his warm chest, and toned arms wrap protectively around your waist.
your head rests upon his inked chest, and your eyes wander wordlessly along the markings on his shoulders. the tattoos covering him only added to his appeal, not that he needed the extra boost in your opinion. here you laid, upon a man who seems like he should be the subject of an expensive painting or a luxury magazine, and you found yourself wondering how you ended up here.
matt's hand strokes the back of your head, soft strokes relaxing you further in his arms; you hum in content, and silently thank whatever god put you here.
warm lips press against your forehead, and you lift your gaze, locking eyes with the warm tattoo artist pressing you closer against him. the adoration in his eyes makes you feel like you're on fire, and you feel your cheeks heat under his gaze.
"how are you even real?" his voice is dripping with want and what feels like love, but you can't be sure as you giggle in response. you raise an eyebrow at him.
his fingers grip your waist gently, rubbing soft circles into your plush hips. "seriously,- you're breathtaking in every way apprehensible," you laugh again.
"pulling out the vocabulary there, huh?"
face buried in your neck, he nods. you feel him breathe in your scent, and how warm his breath is on your sensitive skin. "i'm being genuine, here. i can't even comprehend how you're in my arms right now."
you hum, pretending to think about it. "well for one, you're seriously smokin'-" his palm connects with your ass in a light smack and your sentence stops short. "-hey!"
"usin' me for my looks, huh doll?" his voice is laced with teasing.
you run your hand along his shoulder, fingers tracing the markings on his collarbone leading up his neck. he pulls his nose out of your shoulder, eyes heavy on you once more. "nah, i'm actually in it for the tattoos. i take my reassurances in ink, babes."
within a second he's rolled on top of you, your wrists caught in his grip as his hips pin you to the daybed. you bite your lip as you gaze up at him through your lashes; it's obvious the affect you have on him.
"really? just for the tattoos? i'm hurt." his hips press against yours and his lips are inches from your own, and all of a sudden the air feels twice as thick. you feel something bubble low in your belly, as his lips move to trace the shell of your ear.
"and here i thought it was how good i take care of you." his lips press against your jawline, kissing along the curve of your throat and causing shivers to spread over you like a wildfire. "how much you love it when i touch you," warm fingers dance over your exposed waist, thumb trailing along the waistband of your panties. "nobody else 's made you feel like i do, baby."
your hips shuffle, and you distantly wonder how things escalated so fast. things always heat up between you two, like a fire that can't help but ignite.
giving up the gig, you push your lip out in a faux pout. "it's all that 'n more, y'know that matt." you're not typically needy, but here you are. you mutter out multiple pleas, such as "please kiss me," and a "need you."
yet he doesn't let up, lips ghosting yours in a way that has you aching. "you need me huh? know i'm the only one who does this to you, who can give you what you need." words thick and taunting, waiting for your admission before finally giving you what you need.
you crave him like an addict, like you need your next dose or you might lose it.
he's fully aware of everything he does to you, mind and body. and he takes advantage of all of it; who is he to be worried about measly competition, when at night he's the one you're under, pleading for him like you've been starved of his touch.
you plead, "please, only you can. need everythin' from you." you aren't sure what everything is, all you know is that only he can give it to you, only he can make you feel like this. he's the only one that can turn you into a needy heap underneath him, and you can't even complain.
he groans, and it seems as if his resolve has finally worn. his eyes are heavy, running along your exposed and writhing body laid out for him. "wanna give you everything, beautiful."
and his lips are on yours, a kiss so fervent that you don't know if the stars you're seeing are fictional or from the sky. tongues clash as the intensity of your feelings mix together, getting pulled and tangled like strings passing between your lips. it feels like nothing you've ever felt, only comparing to kisses you've shared with him; and you wish to do nothing else for the rest of your life.
if only to stay here, in this bubble, away from drama and noise and everything in between- lips on lips and hands on skin, you'd be permanently content.
the amount of control matt has of you, even early into your building and budding relationship- over your body, mind, thoughts, the way he invades your head and chest in every moment. you'd already lost yourself in him.
god, were you fucked.
.
literally and figuratively perhaps? pt 2?
( pressin those lil buttons is appreciated if anyone is in the litg fandom and would like a pt 2 )
reblog if you're corny and insufferable
