𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑫 𝑰𝑵𝑺𝑰𝑫𝑬

suggestive starters meme ( nsfw )

why don’t you make me?

i like you better on your knees.

i can think of a few ways to shut you up.

i wonder if you’re as loud in bed as your are everywhere else.

try and stop me.

is that a complaint i hear?

i hope you’re not too fond of that shirt.

why are you siting over there? there’s a perfectly good lap right here.

i thought you liked it when i was bossy.

are you saying this doesn’t turn you on?

i can tell you’re hot and bothered from all the way over here.

i hope you don’t plan on walking much tomorrow.

you’re not the boss of me.

you’re hot when you’re angry.

don’t make me come over there.

i’m this close to taking you over my knee.

you’re being an awfully bad boy/girl.

you know you want it.

you sure talk a big game… but can you live up to it?

i’m not sure you could handle me.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ💋ɞ˚‧｡⋆ 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒

(USFT! a list of intimate/kinky prompts. your muse = sender, my muse = receiver. add "+ reverse" to reverse the roles. adjust freely to suit your muses.)

[ mirror ] your muse fucks mine in front of a full-length mirror, forcing them to watch every second

[ candle ] your muse pours hot wax over my muse’s chest, thighs, or other sensitive areas, grinning at every flinch

[ blindfold ] my muse blindfolds yours, teasing them with toys, ice, tongue—never letting them guess what’s next

[ massage ] what starts as an innocent massage turns into your muse teasing every erogenous zone until mine begs

[ edging ] your muse brings mine to the edge over and over until they’re a sobbing, trembling mess

[ bodypaint ] our muses paint on each other’s bodies—then fuck the designs into a blur

[ hot tub ] your muse grinds into mine under the bubbling surface, hand wrapped around their throat, lips on their ear

[ games ] strip poker turns into strip dares—followed by toys, spanking, or oral under the table

[ car ] your muse bends mine over the car hood and takes them right there, fogging the windows with every moan

[ roleplay ] boss/employee, priest/sinner, captor/prisoner—our muses go deep into a twisted fantasy

[ mile high ] your muse drags mine into a plane bathroom and fucks them against the wall while covering their mouth

[ vibrations ] your muse uses an app-controlled vibrator in public, pushing mine to the brink during a serious event

[ tapes ] our muses record themselves from multiple angles and rewatch the filth together afterward

[ bondage ] wrists bound, legs spread—your muse takes what they want while mine is completely helpless

[ chocolate ] chocolate, whipped cream, fruits—your muse eats it all off my muse’s naked, trembling body

[ voyeur ] my muse watches your muse ruin someone else—and begs to be next

[ gloryhole ] your muse gets serviced by mine anonymously through a wall, only revealed at the end

[ cinema ] our muses go to an adult movie theater and do everything but watch the screen

[ asleep ] your muse slowly teases mine awake, using their mouth until they moan themselves conscious

[ whip ] your muse flogs mine with a crop, paddle, or whip, counting every strike and kissing every mark

[ medical ] your muse plays the strict doctor, using gloves and toys to “inspect” my muse thoroughly

[ cleaning ] your muse eats their own cum out of mine like it’s the sweetest thing they’ve ever tasted

[ ice ] ice dragged across nipples, between thighs, down spines—your muse uses cold as punishment and pleasure

[ pegging ] my muse bends your muse over and wrecks them with a strap until they’re whining for more

[ watch ] my muse is caught watching your muse touch themselves—and now they have to help

[ restrain ] my muse cuffs yours to the bed and uses them like a toy, unrelenting

[ breath play ] your muse chokes mine just enough to make them dizzy and desperate

[ dressing room ] our muses sneak into a dressing room, one of them riding the other while trying to stay quiet

[ control ] your muse is given full access to my muse’s body for the night—no rules, no resistance

[ public ] your muse fingers mine under a table, in a club, on a train—wherever people might see

[ shower ] steamy sex in a slippery shower, complete with hair pulling and wall-slammed kisses

[ underwear ] my muse discreetly removes their panties and slips them into your muse’s pocket at dinner

[ threesome ] our muses invite someone (or something) else to join—two mouths, two hands, and no mercy

[ stimulation ] while your muse receives oral, they use a vibrator on mine until they’re crying from overstimulation

[ ball gag ] your muse gags mine and fucks them until they can’t even remember their own name

[ porn ] our muses watch something filthy together—then recreate it

[ phone sex ] miles apart but connected by moans, words, and dirty commands—until they both explode

[ machine ] my muse is strapped to a fucking machine, moaning while your muse watches—or directs the pace

[ spit roast ] my muse is taken from both ends—your muse in front, someone else (or a toy) behind

if you are sending to a multi-muse, remember to specify the muse that the prompts are being sent for . you can add + reverse to swap roles .

👕 Blood seeps through receiver's shirt from a fresh stab wound.

🗡️ Press a bladed weapon into the receiver’s side.

🤕 Peel back the receiver’s bandage to reveal the infected wound underneath.

💉 Inject a painkiller into the receiver’s arm.

🏹 Yank an arrow out of the receiver’s shoulder with a swift pull.

🪢 Wrap a makeshift tourniquet around the receiver’s thigh.

🔥 Cauterize the receiver’s wound with a hot blade.

🩸 Smear the receiver’s blood across their cheek.

🦴 Snap the receiver’s dislocated shoulder back into place.

🪡 Carefully stitch the receiver's wound with steady hands.

🔫 Press the barrel of a gun against the receiver’s fresh bullet wound.

😴 Carry the unconscious receiver somewhere safe after a brutal fight.

🫳 Trace fingers along the receiver’s old scars.

💥 Slam the receiver into the ground hard enough to crack a rib.

🔪 Drag the tip of a knife slowly across the receiver’s forearm.

🩹 Apply pressure to the deep slash on the receiver’s abdomen.

🦵 Kick the receiver while they’re down.

🫦 Wipe blood from the receiver’s split lip with a rough thumb.

🔄 Twist the knife embedded in the receiver’s shoulder.

🧑‍⚕️ Lay the receiver on a operating table under harsh light.

🪏 Dig fingers into the receiver’s wound to retrieve a bullet fragment.

✂️ Clean and cut dried blood from the receiver’s matted hair.

👊 Punch the receiver to give them a black eye.

🧊 Hold ice against the receiver’s swollen face until it numbs.

"Funny business? In your dreams, asshole." Peter says with a teasing grin and a wink as he leans closer and plucks the cigarette straight from the Upir's fingers. He places it between his lips, takes a drag of it, and blows out the smoke before offering it back to its original owner.

"You act like you ain't seen me naked before." So, even if he was to sleep in the nude, it's nothing Roman hasn't seen. Granted, that was when it was turning into a werewolf but still - Roman has seen him naked before.

He's not sure if he should be offended by the 'not stolen' or not, given how much he does steal. Oh, well. He does what he needs to do and he's not about to apologize for that, not that he thinks Roman is judging him for it.

"If you wanna give me your fancy clothes? Shee-it. I'm not about to say no." Sure, it probably will be big on him considering Roman is freakishly tall but he can wear it.

Oh, yes, Roman had ALMOST forgotten that instance. He'd be a liar if he ever had to deny that his eyes had lingered just a LITTLE too long on certain areas of Peter's body when he saw him transform. Like hell he'd ever reveal that though. He smiles again when his nicotine was taken briefly and gladly takes another drag from it once Peter gives it back.

He put's out the half burned cigarette before standing up, a spring in his steps as he gestures for the other male to follow him up the stairs and turns off the music for the living room with remote in hand before tossing it aside mindlessly.

"Fuck, at this rate you'll be drowning in them with your short self but hey, I'll gladly donate for a better wardrobe for the needy." he chuckles, looking back to make sure Peter was following.

Upon opening the door to his room, his shoulders untense as he struts inside; his room has become his safe place for many years. Can't blame him when you live with someone like his mother, the obvious extra locks on the door proof enough. He closes the door once they were inside, then moving to his large mahogeny wardrobe to pull out a simple long black sleeve with matching soft fleece pants, tossing the folded clothes at Peter without a thought. He reaches for the record player on his nightstand, long index finger gently manuvering the needle point to start playing the music at a comfortable volume. He plops on the bed with a soft 'oof' and sprawls out, lighting a new cigarette and blowing out rings.

Jesus Fucking Christ.

He's heard the news, about the poor blood slave dying, for what? For wanting to be free? It doesn't make any goddamn sense to him. Peter doesn't like the idea of being a slave either but the werewolf knows he sort of has it made here.

He could ask Roman for anything and he'd give it to him, no questions, but that poor blood slave that made his escape? He didn't have a chance, and it angers Peter. That poor bastard deserved better than being shot to death in a goddamn forest.

At the call of his name, he stands up from his spot by the radio, the news having switched over to music now. He hardly has time to react before Roman is grabbing him and pulling him into a hug.

Peter's arms slowly wrap around the male who towers over him, his eyes fluttering shut. Is it wrong to take comfort in this embrace? He's only a blood bag, right? So why does he feel like there is something more here than that?

I don't want anyone else, you fucking dumbass.

"Yeah, well, I'm not going anywhere any time soon. You'd know it if I wanted to." And yeah, maybe at first he fought hard against this, but he's grown comfortable even if the idea of being a slave has never settled well with him.

'Did you think it was me ?'

God damn right he thought it was Peter. It didn't make sense as a whole -- he know's this -- but ever since Roman's friends got wind of the wolfs blood during a forced get together at the Upir's house he hasn't been able to relax. The constant worry he felt everyday actually made his hunger worse; the stress metabolising his sources quicker. He even begun sipping his blood bags in private rather than casually like he used to in front of the other male. After months of housing Peter they had just managed to get comfortable around each other and now Roman feels like he needs to be more considerate again like he did in the beginning. He didn't want the other concerned with how much more bags he's been consuming the past few weeks just to satiate the angry BEAST within on account he needs to make sure to keep these damn FUCKERS away from what's HIS. He slowly releases Peter, a sigh escaping through nostrils as he ventures toward the rooms bar, pouring himself a glass of room temperature whiskey; the flavor of blueberry which he had decided to get on a dare from the wolf himself. It was disgusting but the burn helps center his emotions very little. He downs the rest of it instead before groaning softly.

"There's many like him unfortunately. Not everyone has the same views as me and that's because they don't have the same experience nor desires . . . Being a blood slave isn't a new concept, it's been around for ages even before I turned myself. The THINGS they went through back then. Trust me, it was better for him this way."

He realizes the harshness of his words too late but stands by them, tall frame leaning upon elbows on the bars counter top before closing his eyes. Roman has witnessed such instances, it's not something he'd ever forget. He refuses to, to forget what those humans went through is to deny accountability for his own kind. BOTH sides; he was once human as well, he'll die before he forgets that side of his psyche.

"It will never be fair дорогой, not until someone does something and even with my extracurricular activities my company does under the table it's still not enough to fully stop it. It's spread like a disease too quickly to catch up for my people and even as old as I am one Upir isn't enough . . . Yet."

He sets his glass aside in turn for grabbing the bottle to sip from instead, fingers slipping easily into his pants pocket to retrieve his phone. He moves away from his spot to go plop himself into an armchair, thumb tapping quickly on the screen to activate his homes security systems for the night, head leaning back to expose his throat, adams apple bobbing with a hard gulp. He spreads his legs in leisure, unbuttoning his suit jackets with two fingers before holding out his phone for the other male.

"We made progress on finding the bastards who kidnapped you though. We didn't catch the one who killed your -- um, we didn't find them yet. But it's only a matter of time. I'll get it DONE Peter."

FOR A WHILE NOW Roman’s ‘ FRIENDS ‘ had been practically BULLYING him into attending this God forsaken event. The auction of BLOOD SLAVES. Personally, he felt a huge degree of BEEN THERE DONE THAT, blood slaves weren’t a new thing, then again the Upir’s he knew weren’t around as long as he. Not to mention the scale for back in the 1800′s for this type of thing were way below the scales for current times, it being near world dominated. NEAR, rather than fully, completely. Of course there would be humans who resisted the best they could, many even choosing DEATH willingly rather than be cattle to the rest of Upir society. Roman didn’t blame them, hold them in contempt, rather he used to feel SYMPATHETIC for them. Nowadays, he repressed those feelings in order to move through this era as smoothly as possible without arguments from his fellow kinship. This of course didn’t mean he helped a human every now and then when he could, so long as it was NEVER traced back to him and his family.

It’s nearing midnight for fuck’s sake, and Roman heaves a heavy tired sigh, resting his head upon his hand via index, middle and thumb digits propped against his temple. Green hazel hues flicker back and forth between the buyers sitting all around the stadium like room, gossiping and practically SALIVATING at the paraded line of slaves currently being presented. Roman wouldn’t even be here if his associates didn’t mention the slight interesting fact that this time around, the batch included a small group of rebel human Upir slayers, being auctioned off as punishment. He was hoping for some sort of ENTERTAINMENT this night, but what he didn’t—BUT SHOULD’VE—expected was one of the dealers tugging out the first rebel by a leash around his neck…Wait, were those fucking SPIKES on the inside of the collar ?! 

Roman is on the edge of his seat now, leaning more over the edge of his balcony to get a better look at the human. He looked severely beaten, cuts and bruises decorating his bloodied lean body, and Roman swallows hard. What the fuck did he just get into ? He startles a bit at the sound of a mic adjustment, grimacing at the ENTHUSIASTIC voice booming across the entire room, declaring this humans story of how he came to be in possession and what his best traits were. Roman could feel his lips fall into a frown when ‘ 1091 ‘ was starting to become stripped down bare to show his somewhat healthy physique, glancing away while other’s, his friends included, cat called and made rude comments. 

Once the bidding began, Roman went over the humans background in his head in speed only gained in decades upon decades of mind development. No family assumed alive, clear of disease, more than able bodied for house work should he so choose… Why should he take in this human in the first place ? He did just fine with blood bags, why take on this burden. But one more look at that tear stained face that showed so much stress and SADNESS as well as loss, and Roman felt his resolve come to fruition. He immediately stood up before more men and women could shout over him, shouting;

Peter wants to rip their goddamn throats out. Wants to force the change and dig his teeth through flesh and muscle but the collar around his neck prevents him from doing so.

“Get your goddamn hands off of me!” Peter yells at the man who is stripping him down. It’s not doing himself any favors, he knows, for people love breaking a mouthy slave, but he doesn’t give a damn about that either.’

What he cares about is getting free and avenging his family. Fucking Upirs killed them and he wants them to pay, even if that means forcing the change and turning into a wolf for good. It’s not like it matters, right? He’s got nothing left to live for.

He snarls at the man close to him and when he gets a little too close to him, he bites him on the hand. Teeth digging through muscle and flesh far more than any ordinary human should be able to manage.

The man shrieks with a ‘take him! fuck this, just take him! he’s been nothing but trouble for us!“

Peter turns his head and spits out the blood and flesh. He doesn’t care how rabid he may seem or that there are tears. All he cares about is getting the fuck out of here.

His eyes lock on Roman, and he takes a couple of steps back, head tilting as much as can with the spiked collar. "Try to touch me, asshole. You’ll be next.”

His friends are giving him dirty side long glances and congragulations all at once, a few patting him on the back claiming 'good job !' or 'you got a feisty one man !' but none of the remarks stay within his hearing. He hasn't even let go of the balconey rails he was whiteknuckling on; what the FUCK has he just done ? He doesn't do this, he doesn't buy himself god damn blood slaves much less waste time burdening himself with concerns of another mouth to feed, much less feed FROM.

Slave 1091's words do breach his chaotic mind though, causing a smile of disbelief to tug at full lips, a throaty chuckle leaving him. He pays no mind to his buddy Jason trying to murmur to him about possible exchangement and instead books it for the loading docks he know's they'll be taking his prize. Long legs carrying him with graceful strides to his destination with only a few guards trying to stop him with false authority; he's no regular after all and clearly they've never heard of his family name YET. One mention and they step aside except for one particular guard on a superiority trip. He stops Roman with one closed fist to the center of his chest which was mean't to knock him back a few steps, however Roman didn't even BUDGE. What was this guy ? A few decades old ? Hazel green hues flicker over his head toward the commotion of his property fighting for his life until he witnesses one gentleman flick out his baton and suddenly Roman sees hazy red. He's ignoring the man in front of him, trying to side step until his blazer is roughly grasped and now his patience has run ICE THIN.

He's towering over the guard before grabbing him by his neck, a demonic rumbling his his chest as he exposes fangs, jaw unhinging as he clamps his mouth around the mans throat. The blood of another Upir is BITTER, never satiating to live off of but still drinkable. Roman never found its appeal aside from sending a spiteful MESSAGE when needed such as now. He pays no special attention with a quick squelch of his bite, teeth ripping into his trachea before pulling with savagery; the mans screaming is gurgled while others rush to help him, giving Roman a wide berth as he messily wipes his lips after spitting out the MEAT. He stops in front of the one trying to control 1091.

"Where the fuck do you think you're taking him ?"

"Sir, we were going to transport him to your choice of address --"

"Wrong, I'll take him with me now as is. What the fuck do you have him wearing ? You assholes couldn't find him proper attire ?"

He notes the simple boxer and white t-shirt outfit, one quick look over and he's shedding his blazer to forcibly drape over the younger male.

(  various  dialogue  prompts  to  send  to  your  worst  enemy  (affectionate).  feel  free  to  change  how  you  seem  fit.  )

❛ oh great, it's you again. ❜

❛ you? kill me? that's funny. ❜

❛ for being someone you hate, i'm sure on your mind a lot. ❜

❛ you're the last person i wanted to see, actually. ❜

❛ do us both a favor. stay away from me. ❜

❛ you really are an asshole, you know that? ❜

❛ i'm the asshole? what does that make you then? ❜

❛ sometimes i think you must hate me. ❜

❛ i thought you said you never wanted to see me again. ❜

❛ if you want me to go, then you have to tell me to leave. ❜

❛ well, someone's cranky today. ❜

❛ well, someone needs to shut the fuck up. ❜

❛ just stay out of my way. ❜

❛ of all the idiots in the world, i'm stuck with you. ❜

❛ what is it you want this time? ❜

❛ sometimes i wonder if you're in love with me. ❜

❛ do you honestly think this is easy for me? ❜

❛ why would i ever want to be friends with you? ❜

❛ can we please just talk? ❜

❛ there is nothing for us to talk about. ❜

❛ you can yell at me later. just let me help you. ❜

❛ touch me, and you're dead. ❜

❛ oh, so now you care? ❜

❛ there is something deeply wrong with you. ❜

❛ i know i'm the last person you probably want to see, but... ❜

❛ you don't think we could be friends, do you? ❜

❛ i'm tired of fighting against you. ❜

❛ don't pretend you give a shit about me. ❜

❛ you're an idiot, but... i trust you. ❜

❛ oh, don't be cute. ❜

❛ wait, did you just say that i'm cute? ❜

❛ we're not good for each other. ❜

❛ if i say yes, will you shut up? ❜

❛ don't you have to be stupid somewhere else? ❜

❛ maybe we should kiss just to break the tension. ❜

❛ i'm sorry i can't turn off my feelings as easily as you. ❜

❛ maybe there's a universe out there where we're friends. ❜

❛ how can you be so smart yet so dumb at the same time? ❜

❛ don't think this changes anything between us. ❜

❛ you look ridiculous in that outfit, by the way. ❜

❛ if you die, i'll kill you. ❜

❛ is that a challenge? ❜

❛ ah, so you're not heartless after all. ❜

❛ i don't think i've ever seen you smile. ❜

❛ you never cared about me, so why now? ❜

❛ why didn't you kill me when you had the chance? ❜

❛ i don't even remember why we started fighting. ❜

❛ i don't have time for distractions right now. ❜

❛ you're not as bad as everyone says you are. ❜