This is pretty short, I wrote it on a whim mid tears lmao
⋆.˚✮ᴡᴏʟꜰꜱᴛᴀʀ✮˚.⋆
The dove isn't exactly dead, but it definitely isn't okay. Read at your own risk and accord. I am not responsible for your media consumption.
This not noncon!!!!! I have never and will never write noncon!!!!
Vore, mentions of cannibalism. Attempts at cannibalism. Remus lupin is unwell.
Yes, they're mid having sex. This is smut but it's less about the smut more about what remus is thinking
His fingers crawl upwards, right between where the middle of his lungs lay, right to the side of his heart, tracing mindless shapes into the pale skin
He wants to cut it open, to crawl inside and rot and infect him and decompose into his bones, to have all of himself become little more than biodegradable food for his other, his better
Better. His better.
It felt so wrong, so disgusting, so repulsive, so good and soft and wanton
He wanted to be inside him, to be him, to be with him, to be there for him, to just...be, in any regard to him
To have his whole axis of life revolve around him, his sun, his star
His.
But instead, he leans down and presses a kiss, then licks, then bites just hard enough for Sirius to chuckle above
"What are you doing?"
No response comes, instead he licks the quickly bruising patch, and lays his head down. He imagines how good it would feel to open his eyes and peer into his chest cavity, to look directly at his bloody beating heart, to reach out and squeeze it and pull it free from the veins keeping it thumping
But he can't. So he settles for cupping the back of his thigh and lifting it up, then begining to thrust
The pace is slow, but not gentle in any regard. Each push comes with the thump of his heart, each pull comes in the silence
Naturally, the pace doesn't change when his heart begins beating frantically, erratically.
God, he wants it to stop. He wants to rip it out and take a bite and make it stop being so loud
"Fuck-Remus..."
Why was his voice so good? Why did his name sound so sweet on his tongue? Why did it make him want to lean down and bite his throat until he could never speak again?
Why was he opening his mouth wide? Why were his teeth sinking into the soft, taunt skin?
Why did it make him moan, not cry or scream?
Sirius seemed to be enjoying this. He shouldn't have been. He should have been crying, pushing him away, calling him a freak, a disgusting, unlovable freak
It would have been less confusing. So he bites harder and harder and revels and recoils at the whimpers of the blurred lines of pain and pleasure.
He bites until a metallic taste fills his mouth
It tasted good, he wondered if sirius would keep moaning if he put a straw through his neck and drunk him dry
His hand slithers down and wraps around the paler boy's cock, he doesn't move it. Simply leaves it there for him to hump into to chase his orgasm
Remus already got his, he realises with a flood of embarrassment. He hadn't even registered the release. Can't remember when it had even happened, exactly.
But oh well. He busied himself with licking at the disgusting liquid, the iron-y taste making him want to vomit. He loves it. Wants more of it. Wants to push sirius's head back until his thyroid cartilage cracks and drink from it
He doesn't. He kisses the wound when he feels warm liquid spill on his hand and Sirius go still
Leaning back on his knees, he looks down at the sight below him
Beautiful. Disgusting. He wants to paint it and hang it on a wall so he can cover it up with a blanket. Or curtain. Or whatever people used to cover up paintings hung on walls.
The smile that overtakes the pureblood's lips makes him want to bite and chew at the soft skin until it's little more than scraps. Until kissing it feels as disgusting to anyone else as it does to him
Remus leans down and kisses him with all the gentleness you'd expect from a man beast wanting nothing than to take a bite
Sirius smiles, whispers when they pull apart
"You're fiesty tonight. I like it"
He shouldn't. He should've hated this. Should've been begging Remus to get away from him, should've been trying to push him off
It would be less confusing.
But remus believed that disturbing thoughts should never be left unchallenged. What other way to challenge his disgust than to lay down next to it? Pull its hair away from its eyes, kiss its temple and tell it goodnight? That he loves it?
Hii !! I just wanted to ask if you write for m/ftm!readers too ?
I write for everything and everyone! I prefer writing f!reader, seeing as I do not posses other genitalia but I'm open to doing my best (and my research)
It's like, 1 am. But I wanted to at least post something 😔
♤Jason todd : virginity loss.♤
[HIS virginity loss, not that of the reader. Not sorry at all. He's got no game.]
Reader : y/n NOT used, no pronouns or specific gender or sex (no specification if amab or afab), pretty is used to describe the reader
Ngl this is pretty short
None of this was planned
Not the late nights on the phone, not the flowers by the door
not the slow immigration into his apartment
Not the tender touches or moments. Especially not this. Not now
Not you.
Storming into his life, flipping everything upside down. How could he ever dare let you leave after that?
How could you ever dare want to?
Not in all his life had he done something good enough for you to decide to stay
So he was not ready for this. Not at all ready for stripped clothes and bared skin
But god, how he craved it
He wanted it so bad it felt like seething acid in his veins
How much of a fool would he be to refuse when you had offered it all on a silver plater?
Yet that quiet but imposing whisper of doubt never quite left his mind, it had always been there
It had been there for Bruce, for the joker, for the league and now for you
But for the second time in his life, he was willing to try and shut it up
It wasn't easy. Not then, and certainly not now
But somehow, the fear seemed to climb out of his heart, up his throat and past your parted lips
Chipping at his walls seemed to be a specialty of yours
His hands wandered down your stomach, shirt already abandoned somewhere on the floor
"You're so pretty." and he'd never cease to tell you so "prettiest thing I've ever seen"
The warmth of his palms seeps into your lower back as he cups it to lift your hips and slide your pants off
Green eyes met yours in a silent question, body only moving once the confirmation came
A rule he'd refused to ever break or bend, no matter the case
Wether it be a kiss, or holding your hand, or now-eating you out like a man starved
As soon as you'd given him that hazy eyed nod, his mouth wasted no time in latching onto you
He moved with a desperate need to pull every moan and gasp he possibly could, like he was searching to pump your very soul
His hands, still as mindful as ever, held down on your hips. No sense in letting you disrupt him in his mission
His thirst was not for his pleasure, but for your own
And once it had been quenched, having laped up every drop of proof of what he'd done, leaving you boneless from ecstasy, he rose to sit on his knees, eyes studying every inch of your body to remember in his loneliest days
"Are you alright? Was it good?"
Not that he couldn't tell, the neighbours would probably come complain if you kept at that volume for the rest of the night
Though he'd soon found, as you'd climbed on his lap and had him sitting down instead, that he would be the loud one from that point on
Thankfully he had your lips to keep his sealed
He could feel your hand trailing down his chest, the other holding his thigh hostage as you decended upon him
At first, it was just as, if not more overwhelming than he'd imagined it
Tight walls squeezing around him, the feeling new to him-having had nothing but his hand for so long
The first bit of uncomfortability, followed by the slight bit of dizziness and the final hammer of pleasure crashing into him full force was no expected experience
Yes, he'd read of this
He'd done his research. Obviously. What type of lover would he be if he had not?
But in the midst of focusing on your pleasure, he'd completely neglected to look forward to his own
So when your fingers dug into his shoulders, and you lifted yourself off only to drop back down, needless to say he'd never had such a focused mind
A focused mind, but only on how good and soft and warm and-
God. If he knew it felt this good, he'd had done it long ago
But as of right now, all that was running through his usually crowded head was you
How good you were
How he probably didn't deserve this
But how he'd take this opportunity every time it was offered, because fuck deserving. And fuck fairness. He had you
And you had him. As you always would
His release crawled closer and closer, and he'd never felt so good,
So euphoric.
His mind went completely blanc, his eyes seemingly having shut down for a second until your loving lips laid on his forehead
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