he presses a kiss against your lips, pushing his tongue inside as his hands wrap themselves around your waist. you can hear his muffled groans spilling into your lips as he passionately grinds himself against you, and when he pulls back the both of you are breathless, and it takes him only a moment before he lunges forward to place marks against your neck.

“y-your pussy’s fucking… perfect…” he trails off, desire leaking from his tone as he thrusts himself into you. though he can barely stop himself from seeing ecstasy he’s managing the strength to try and look you in the eyes, to scan your face over as he moans and to let the sight arouse him further.

“t-tell me that you love me. i-i wanna hear you say it, nghh, call out my fucking name and l-let me hear you lie to me.” he’s begging. his voice is shaking and he can barely force his words out but you can make out tears in his eyes as he pleads, both desperate and shameless.

and you don’t love him. you can barely find it in yourself to lie to him, to push his delusions and to think about later. to lie to him would only entangle yourself further in his mind, but it’s all he wants you to do.

he slows down, his cock throbbing inside you as he does. and he leans in towards you, his lips shaking as he presses them against your ear, to place a kiss upon them and whisper.

“i-i won’t go any faster if you don’t tell me, baby. lie to me. e-even if it’s not true, even though you hate me. lie to me because you know it feels good.” he’s saying.

you summoned him feeling depressed and desperate to take your mind away from stress. you doubted it would work, but did it more for the sake of tension, the feeling of fear tackling you away from your worries.

he didn't like that too much.

he practically crawled onto you, his nails painted black as he held you by your chin, sizing you up. he wasn't shy with the way his eyes lingered, and when he spoke you could make out fangs that shaped his insicors.

"you're such a sweet little thing, so innocent for thinking i wouldn't appear. i'll have fun ruining you." he had whispered thoughtfully into your ears, playing with the hem of your shirt with a tease as he licked a stripe against your earlobe. you shivered at the feeling of his warm tongue and he practically smirked at you.

the night felt heavenly to say the least. he seemed to be an arrogant mind, and the sight of you coming undone boosted his ego, and he took great pleasure in it. he plunged his length inside of you with a breathless gasp and you practically saw stars, before he wrapped a hand around your chest and lightly squeezed, bringing you back to your senses.

"look at me whilst i f-fuck you like this. you'll never feel this good again." he murmured towards you with half lidded eyes. you stared back up at him, his violet orbs seeming you such you up and he groaned in pleasure.

"i-i love good girls like you... a-always take my breath away..." he panted, his nails digging into your hips. he seemed to love marking you, the idea of leaving traces that wouldn't leave you arousing him more than anything.

the next day you practically felt high.

the feeling of lust lingered in your mind, staring down at your discarded panties and ripped clothes that lay against the floor. you stared down at bruises left on your neck, and your sheets carried the scent that he had left you with, a smell of sage and something that you couldn't name.

you washed your sheets that day.

you weren't supposed to! he watched you from a mirror in his realm, his eyes glaring at he chewed at his lips. surely something had gone wrong? it felt like a harsh rejection, watching you cover your imprints with makeup.

but it was fine! he'd back soon, and he'd give you another night so memorable that you'd be unable to deny. <3

https://discord.gg/k2M3HgWW

you were annoying! he stands by the fact, constantly clinging onto his arms and twirling with strands of his hair. it was so easy to see you were obsessed and there were times he yearned to push you away from him, to watch you back out in fear and crawl away to never speak to him again.

he was the quiet kid at the back of the class. nobody cared if you bothered him, and though your attempts towards him were always so sweet and sincere he couldn’t handle the frustration that it left coursing through his veins. you were just so clingy.

he never reciprocated, and you came to realise the fact with a hearty acceptance. it broke your heart, noticing the cold looks he sent your way, the smile that always failed to grace his face. you wondered what he’d look like if his face lit up in joy, and you yearned to bring him such a feeling, but over time you realised you were incapable, and as such forced yourself away from him.

he realised too late of the mistake that he had made. thinking back to the lingering touches that you used to leave him with, only to realise that though they had once filled him with such annoyance, they were a feeling that he couldn’t live without.

he scratched at his arms to replicate the feeling, and left them sore and red. he wondered if you noticed, but in the recent days you seemed more invested in your work if anything. you barely gazed at him and he wondered if that was all he had been to you, a phase?

you can hardly recall ever seeing him in school. he'd always been the face in the corner of your classroom, his eyes scanning over people and yet he never spoke. he's always seemed interesting to say the least, on the days that he bothers to come in at least.

it's easy to see that he's not well. he's shaking with dying roses in his hands and there's blood from the thorns staining his fingers. and yet, with crowds of your classmate watching you, phones pointed in your face to catch your reaction, you feel unable to deny him.

it was his plan all along. he's a fucking freak, blushing at the thought of your eyes widened up, the little sputter you let out trying to respond to him. it was adorable. you looked so cute, so nervous and shy just for him.

you've spent barely five minutes before he's trying to drag you home. interlocking his sweaty fingers with yours, an expression that's wayyy too happy on his face. once you've reached his home it's a mess, clothes sprawled out all around. he ushers you into the bed, climbing on top of you and you can feel how aroused he is.

it's a quirk really. you don't know him, but you've been viewing his content for a while. it makes you feel special, seeing the features uncannily match your appearance, as he clothes them in shades of pink and white.

you felt bold one day, lingering over the chat one day as you typed out a message. the chat was slow that day, but you still expected your comment to be drowned out.

'oo she's pretty!! is she your gf or smth? ^o^'

his eyes skimmed over your comment, a grin lighting up upon his face. he leaned against his arms, licking his lips as he thought up a response.

"wouldn't you like to know?" he read over your name and you could feel your heart flutter. he stared into the camera with such intensity, playing with a strand of his hair with a small blush painting his cheeks. he cleared his throat.

he’s been told his whole that he’s such a charmer! back in her days, his mother would give him a peck on the cheek and tell him to ‘find himself a filly to match his spark’, and though he never held much interest in others, her passing filled her with loneliness.

there was a kind of affection that he yearned for that animals couldn’t give him. cuddling up besides a pig never worked, and they lacked the beauty and the humour that you held. even as you insulted him, as you curled your lip at him and you groaned, there was something so emotional about you that sent his heart racing.

he was a pretty boy, but in comparison to you? you held the wonders of late night lullabies that used to enchant him, filled with stories of places that he’d never seen. though you didn’t like him, he knew that if he could sweeten you up, you’d love him back! you’d stay on the farm with him and accept your place, or perhaps you’d show him the magic of the city, show him all your secret spots and let him make you come undone.

and so, his quest began.

he trained little animals to come running each time you saw them, cute little kittens with roses he had placed in their mouths to rub themselves against your leg when they saw you. it had to work, right? nobody could resist the charm of such a thing.

but you only sighed, nudging them away tiredly with a yawn. you must have been used to romances of all kind, so such a shy approach didn’t suit your tastes.

he tried to serenade you one night.

a shabby guitar in his hand with strings that looked as weak as yarn. he played a weak little song and his voice cracked, but you’d appreciate the sentient right? the freckles on his face lighting up with a blush as shook his head to cover his face, but still plucking at the strings with emotion.

you didn’t laugh in his face, but you didn’t look particularly pleased either. you gave him a small pat on the shoulder and gave him a ‘C+’ for effort, whilst telling him that you weren’t so easy. and then you left him, sinking into a pool of embarrassment, but also leaving him so frustrated that he kicked out his legs, biting at his nails before heaving a long sigh.

you’ve never seen him before but you’ve heard of him. the weird kid, who nobody likes, who lingers near the back. he skips lectures, takes smoke breaks outside and had a decent reputation before he fucked it all over for himself.

seeing him for the first time was like a breath of fresh air if anything. staring into his intense eyes and practically simpering before realising that he was staring too.

there was something about his eyes that you found so intense. it seemed as though he’d lost all care in the world, and therefore found no reason to look away. he looked at you with eyes filled with judgement, and yet with feelings that you couldn’t decipher.

it became a common occurrence. you’d follow him around out of what you told yourself to be boredom, and he’d tear his eyes away from whatever he was doing to gaze back. there’d be times he’d be occupied with something and you’d have a moment without the tension before he suddenly paused his movements and tilted his head to stare at you for a moment, before looking away.

you don’t plan to speak to him, and it seems the same thought applies to him to him. he’d certainly have heard you speaking before, perhaps ranting to a friend or complaining about something, but it seemed he barely spoke. the most you’d said to him would have to have been a meek ‘sorry’ during a time he’d bumped into you, and you could practically feel him pressed up against you before you moved away.

he’s bleeding out heavily and you’ve just finished a night shift. he’s cursing the skies and clutching onto his stomach with pain before he can make out the shadow of a silhouette, standing over him as tears stream down his cheeks.

he mistakes you for an angel. wondering why you’re here when the life he’s led is far too full of sin to reach a salvation. he’s mumbling nonsense as you tug him into your arms, trying to figure out the best way to go about it.

luckily, the wounds don’t take too long to heal. dangerous, yes, but with enough care his supernatural abilities sped up the process greatly. he can barely bring it in himself to thank you, embarrassed by the fact that he had to be a saved by a human of all things, yet when you offer up your neck he can’t hold back the feral glint in his eyes.

he’s not drunken for days. you’re stunning, and he’d be a fool to deny you. he barely needs a moment to consider before he’s cradling your face and bringing your neck to his lips, lightly sucking on the skin.

the bite itself feels more intimate than it should have. it’s the first time you’ve sent such a sensation, tingles flowing through your veins as he gently prises his teeth through the skin, sucking slowly as though hesitant.

you can’t deny the feeling of pleasure it gives you, and you lean your head back. by the time he’s finished, with blood pooling past his lips which he licks away, the two of you feel lightheaded. he’s staring at you with a gaze so intent, as though trying to wrap his head around your whole character, before he tilts your chin upwards and embraces your lips in a fervent kiss.