If I Say All The Obscene Things That Go Through My Head When I See Axl Being A Hot Whore On This Tour

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT

where is this coming from

god the urge to post my tits on tumblr for a laugh

I'd like to remind everyone kirk has a blood kink! (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

i NEEEED period sex with 90s kirk i know he would be into it i feel it in my bones,,,, hes so vamp

anon how the fuck did you sense i was on my period or smth…. currently laying in bed fighting for my life with a heating pad on me rn…

he’d be one of those mfs who finds out orgasms can help w period pain and he will not leave you alone after that. he’d find you groaning in pain one day w a hot pack to your stomach and would jump into action. when he makes his suggestion you approve, wanting to try anything to help yourself feel better at this point.

he’d run to get a towel to put under you, letting you keep the heating pad on your stomach while he works you. his nimble fingers would be stroking inside of you while he sucks on your clit, scissoring you open to slide his tongue into your cunt as well. when you look down to see a mix of your slick and blood on his face you feel like you might explode. kirk is having the time of his life, dedicated to making you feel better. he moans into your pussy, pumping his fingers faster and looking up at you with those big brown eyes of his, coaxing you into your first orgasm of many<333

i’ll finish this up later but i really am not feeling well. i’m sorry </3

there's absolutely no reason for me to be jealous i am literally younger, skinnier and prettier

i took these

singing in the shower🎤🚿😂🤘

this is adorable. i wish my mom loved me

My mom, the biggest Abbey fan and best Toriel cosplayer :)

"Mmm. Keep cryin' darlin', makes you tighter." He grits out through his teeth. "You- hah, you like it, yeah?" He shakes his head at himself loosing his own composure. "Told you I'd fuck the god out of you. We ain't done yet."

Remmick huffs above you, claws digging into your throat, hips pistoning into yours. The half-smirk he wears has been dipping all night, sweat dampening his brow. He's been switching between babbling incoherently and mouthing off the whole night.

He watched you like he was starved. And maybe he was- but not for food. Not for blood. For the one thing your daddy always said was sacred. Private.

Daddy told you men like him were the devil. All they wanted- the sweet little preachers daughter. Remmick's fingers hook around the lace on your church dress. Cock pumping deliciously inside you. Your daddy was right. The devil was awfully pretty.

The devil was also awfully persistent. He'd want to consume you- not just your soul, but something deeper. From the root inside you. Not just your womanhood. Your love.

"Shit," He murmurs, pleased, struggling between breaths. "This what you wear to your...ah-...Sunday service? Thought good little girls covered up. You wore this for m-me, yeah?" He toys with the straps, before diving down to your neck. Licking. Sucking. Before biting gently.

When you squeal, he chuckles breathlessly, before groaning when you clench around him. He makes a noise that's borderline animalistic- and you briefly wonder if your daddy ever taught you if even the devil could lose his composure.

Effectively, he can. Because even as he presses you against the wall, caged, trapped like a flightless bird- all you have to do is reach up and tug on his hair. And he hisses in raw pleasure, body tensing up, fangs protruding so far he has to bare them so it doesn't hurt him.

"Fu-fuck-, lo-love you-" He stutters out, claws clenching tighter around the base of your throat.

But daddy never told you the devil would whisper those three little words. Daddy never told you he'd kiss you so gently you'd cry. Daddy never told you the devil would knock on your window every night, beggin' to be let in, just to recite Irish poems and prayers while you sleep in his arms.

"Say it- please darlin', say it back," He tries to demand, but it sounds more desperate than anything. He's close. He's so close, holding on tight. He's pleading with you. You feel the heat building up inside you. The way his fangs struggle against your pulse point, drool slipping down, holding back. Forcing his mouth to pucker into kisses instead of biting.

"I love you." You whisper. If this is how the devil loves, you think you'd rather burn forever then ever let him go.

And when you cum, it’s violent. Blinding. You scream his name- not God’s. And Remmick whispers yours all the same, pawing at you, eyebrows scrunched together as he finishes deep inside. He doesn't let go. He never let's go.

His voice his hoarse when he just barely pulls away to look you in the eye. His chest rises and falls with each heavy breath.

"Let me- let me stay like this- inside you, lovin’ you, bein’ yours- please. Just a little longer. Just a little longer, okay?” He strings together, giving you those eyes. His clawed finger lifting to your lip, tracing the contours, gaze flitting down to watch your mouth part as you speak.

When you give him the go ahead, nodding, body exasperated, he inhales with a shaky smile. He presses a light, chaste kiss to your temple, breathing you in.

You close your eyes, feel him throb sweetly inside you, and think maybe Heaven isn’t up above. Maybe it’s bloody, needy, and whispering your name in the dark.