#* nsfw.

For @descended-from-fairytales - Bite Starring Angie Doppler NSFW

Angie tilts her head back for a minute, enjoying the sun, closing her eyes. The Felind's ears twitch slightly. Waylon was... doing something. The important part was, he was distracted with it. She's been looking for something stupid to do.

It's loud and dark. The bass coming off the large speakers at the back of the room makes it feel like the whole house is shaking. And the lights are off, replaced by multicolored beams, mood-lights. It reminds her of being in Weiss's room with his music on almost, just.. Uncomfortable.

Some house on Danube street, one of Whitney's friends. Kind of posh interior but that didn't seem to matter to the other fuckheads spilling booze they probably weren't even old enough to be drinking yet all over the upholstery. The smell of it permeates the air : a cloying mixture of sour alcohol, sweat, whatever floozy febreze had been sprayed before the party started (probably by well meaning parents out for the night leaving behind a spotless house,) and.. Yeah, she definitely smelt weed too. It had started to make her head hurt a while ago, but nowhere in the damn house was quiet. She'd tried to slink off to every niche she could find but it wasn't entirely safe to be alone right now either. She wasn't superstitious but something about the date must have been drawing that thing out.. Brief flashes of unmistakable ivory from the corners of her eyes every so often. Fucking stalking her through the house but unable to make a move thanks to the crowds of warm bodies. How could nobody else see it.. Even if she hadn't particularly wanted to be here, she supposed she should thank Whitney for dragging her along anyways. If he hadn't, she would've been dealing with it alone. Serena just wished he hadn't made her wear such an uncomfortable 'costume.' Costume.. Except it was just this short, skin tight, turtle-neckish sweater shirt and tights with some heavier make-up. 'Looks like that dracula-bitch from motel whatever it was,' or 'a fuckin' witch then,' when she'd told him she had no idea what he was talking about.

Her attempts at shouldering past heavy bodies come to a screeching halt as she's jerked back. Familiar grip on her wrist forcing Serena to comply immediately in turning on her heel to follow after the blonde, they'd just end up playing tug of war until her arm popped out of the socket. She stumbles along, not bothering to ask where they were going, he wouldn't have been able to hear her anyways. It's a blur of RGB disco-esque lights, stupid costumes and shuddering speakers.. Then they're alone. The flimsy wood of the bathroom door doing little to drown out the noise of the party outside it now that it's been closed, but it's enough to think at least. Serena blinks, ruby latching on to aqua as her head tilts upwards enough to meet his gaze. She's a little dazed.. From the party and the tension.. But that doesn't stop her from noticing-

@elleomet ◄ asked 🚨 from famine.

A LOW GROWL ESCAPED HIM  the moment his back hit the ground, his hands coming up to grip at her far too defined ribs. If she had been a human his fingertips would leave bruises in their wake, but Famine was of the same cosmic clothe as he was, which made them far more durable than the fragile creatures they governed over.

✱@elleomet   — —    ✉ 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡: ♜ ♤ for evia.

➥ ⧸ laying back against the rim of the tub, sweeney curls an arm around her, offering his little wolf the last bit of their shared cigarette. once he took it from him, his hand was free to return to her shoulder, his other hand laying still until now as he started rubbing at the knots in her muscles with confident ease. ❝ I told you a bath would do ya wonders, ❞  his words cut off as his lips pressed to skin, leaving a trail of kisses from just behind her ear, all the way down her neck. ❝ I also 'ave magic hands... ❞

unprompted ( always a. ) @icedfates.

          AMITOLA’S FINGERTIPS DRAW SHAPES ACROSS   the meadows of weiss’s back, plains of silk skin just waiting to be marked &&. bruised.  “ mm, really ? ”  she continues to tease, evil smirk resting calmly upon her lips.  mouth trails down to pristine neck, just below the jaw, &&. she nips urgently, hard with enamel at the flesh ( only to suck on it in apology with velvet - soft lips for the brief pain inflicted upon the skin like fresh snow ).  she hums quietly against lioness’s neck as bites &&. kisses trail down its exposed tundra, one by one ( fresh snow has footsteps in it now ).  “ no teasing … then how’s this for the way to a girl’s heart ? ”