>>46501

why does that picture seem familiar (other then being worth's workspace)

>>46473
oh my...oh my god.
i'm not usually into underage!conrad but...
that was fantastic. shitfuck. Fuck.

>>46318

Gunna throw out another request here, because I'm too faggy for the kinkmeme;

Everyone/Hanna
Hanna is secretly a cockslut, and wants everyone; Worth, {...}, Conrad, Ves, Lamont, everyone. At the same time.
So, either he gets himself in the middle of an epic, bukkake-style circle-jerk and sucks SO MUCH COCK, or he gets himself some consensual gangbang; one in each hand, a couple in the mouth, and a couple working on his ass.
And he loves it.

I'll give you presents in return later.

>>46515

o-oh my god.... yes second this

>>46515
personally, i think this ought to be a drawing.
cuz. come on. i wanna see it.
also, it has great collaboration potential (;

>>46522

You are SO correct. But alas, I have no prowess with a pencil; My skills are limited in the art department.

Ok, uh, if this is ok- SPOILER FIC, for that bigass Ples spoiler. So evil!ples / Veser fic. Because I can.

Just, ah, if I need to take this down- well, I sure can, so! Onwards to porn!

------

They were in the biggest stall of a bathroom in some bar, a classy one that suited Ples. Not that what they were doing was anywhere near classy.

“Unh, Ples, please-” Veser shivered, curled his fingers into the wall as he pushed back into the older man.

“Silly boy,” Ples said, silent for a moment as he sucked a kiss onto the back of Veser’s neck, wrapped his hands around his hips to pull him further onto his dick. “I’m not Ples.”

Not Ples- and Veser knew, knew that sometimes Ples was someone else, but he didn’t know what to call the other man, this guy with Ples’ face and Ples’ body and Ples’ hands-

“Stop thinking,” Ples- Not Ples- whispered in his ear, grinding into his ass- he could feel the thick hair against the sensitive skin around his hole and it made him arch and shiver, made him bite his lip as Not Ples pulled out and pushed in, agonizingly slow, nothing how Veser liked it.

“Focus.” Not Ples said, biting his ear lightly as he pushed in hard.

There was hardly any lube, the little being from a small packet the older man had gotten from somewhere. It was just enough, hardly enough, Veser could hardly decide but there was that edge of pain as Not Ples pushed in that made him arch and gasp embarrassingly, whimper at every thrust. This man had flipped a switch, something that- just something, making him a moaning mess against the bathroom wall.

The bathroom door opened and closed and there were sounds, a man breathing heavy, the sound of him unzipping. This didn’t deter Not Ples, made him thrust so sharply that a choked little gasp fell out of Veser’s mouth.

All sounds stopped, the sound evident and loud since there was really no loud music, no screaming, no anything from the bar outside. Ples- whatever his name is- thrust in sharply again with the same result, the same little gasp.

“Who’z there?” The man sounded gruff, drunk as all hell- maybe the bartender or someone, and Veser hoped to god that wasn’t true because in the next second Ples pulled all the way out and slid back in slowly- this time he bit his lip to keep anything from coming out, and of course- of course it ended up with blood on his lip, but at least he didn’t make any noise.

He could practically feel the smugness of the man behind him, who licked his neck and finally, aloud and in Ples’ polite voice, said. “Are you talking to me, sir?”

There was silence on the other side, in which time Not Ples bit at his ear and lavished it with little licks and sucks, his hips moving in slow circles to torture him with not enough.

“What are ya doin’ in there than, huh?”

“Just making a phone call, sir.” Not Ples grinned against the side of his head, one hand slowly sliding up Veser’s shirt, over the taut skin of his stomach, soft touches that made him shiver.

“Awright than.” The man said, and without speaking anymore left, the bathroom door swinging closed.

“Veser.” Ples- damn it, Not Ples- whispered into his ear, and the hand under his shirt finally rubbed hard over his nipple, made him make a `hng` sound because fuck, that felt good. `Did you like it when someone could hear you?”

Here Not Ples gave a sharp twist of his nipple and bit his neck, making him hiss and try to pull away- or, really, his body couldn’t make up his mind, tugging this way and that, because at the same time he felt himself pressing closer, pushing back onto Ples’ dick.

“N-no, fuck no.” Veser said between clenched teeth as Not Ples licked the wound, hummed against his shoulder at was probably blood. “That was- was disgusting, shit, fuck- Don’t-”

Another sharp bite pressed into the same spot; Veser could only imagine the brilliant red mark tomorrow, a reminder of tonight, the ring of teeth that would tell him what he did and who he did it with.

“What if I told you-” Not Ples straightened up, both hands going to his hips. And Veser could tell the movement coming, the way Not Ples pulled out so slowly and gripped him hard, bruising, another fucking reminder.

“What if I told you-” Not Ples repeated again, and Veser could picture the sharp grin- so unlike- “That Ples could hear you?”

That- that surprised a gasp out of him, made a shiver go down his spine and at that exact same moment Not Ples pushed forward, hard, pressed in just the right way and the thought that Ples could hear this- see this, maybe, oh fuck- made him rock up onto his toes, made them curl inside his shoes as he let out a guttural moan, arching his back at the thought- oh god-

“Oh?” Not Ples said, sounding amused. “It’s erotic for you, isn’t it now? Ples listening?”

“Shut up!” Veser said; he pressed his forehead against the wall, revelled in the coolness of the tile against his sweaty skin. “Don’t- don’t let him-”

“Don’t let him listen?” Not Ples gave little, sharp shoves into him, right in that sweet spot and it made him shiver again, push back and bite his lip. “Oh, but Veser- he can see you too, you know.”

“Ngh-” And Veser couldn’t help himself, the way he shuddered and the way he could feel his dick grow a little harder but oh God, no, this was sick, Ples- this was against Ples’ will than, and even though Veser- Veser had wanted it for so long, wanted Ples for so long, this was so so wrong-

“Oh yes.” Not Ples murmured, and Veser couldn’t tell if that was just words or if Not Ples was turned on by his reactions but he snarled, went to turn around but a hand, lightning fast, came out and pushed his head back sharply into the tile. The force of it stung a little, made him curl his lip in anger before Not Ples shoved forward again, sudden and just right, melting the anger into a little whimper.

“He can see you, Veser-” Not Ples whispered against his ear- out of the corner of his eye he could see the fringe of the man’s hair, the white streak hardly visible. How the other man didn’t wear Ples’ glass but instead had them in his pocket, or somewhere, and this- he could almost feel himself believing it was Ples. Until the older man spoke again, voice soft and honey sweet but so, so different. “And hear you, every little moan-”

And he thrust inside again and just the thought of Ples- hearing all this, seeing all it.

“Hear the way you whimper-”

Veser clenched his teeth and closed his eyes, tried not to imagine Ples looking at him, all messed up and being fucked, sweaty and slutty-

“See the way you push back onto my cock-”

“Uuuun-” Veser said, and he couldn’t help but doing what the man said- pushing back onto Not Ples at the same time he pushed in and that was sosogood, fuck, Ples-

“And he can feel it too, you know. He’s getting off on this-”

This made him jerk sharply, made a little thrill of arousal run down his back, straight to his cock and Veser couldn’t help but bring one of his hands to his cock and fist it, hard, a loud moan making its way out of his mouth and fuck, Ples- all he could think about was Ples, maybe fucking him like this, so delicious and so good-

He was brought back to reality when Not Ples growled in his ear, grabbing his hair and pulling back to bounce his head off the tile wall. It made him dizzy, a gasp of pain sounding as the pain passed over him like fire.

“No.” And Not Ples sounded furious, angry- for one second Veser feared for his life, but then the man hissed into his ear. “You don’t get to touch yourself. You only get to come from my dick.”

Not Ples punctuated his sentences by thrusting into Veser, each word making his knees buckle from the force of his dick hitting his prostate every single time. The pleasure mixed with the dizziness still there but Veser nodded, let his mouth hang open on the very last word to let a groan escape.

Veser couldn’t see it, but Not Ples smiled, a soft, loving one that would have reminded him of Ples.

“Such a good boy.” Not Ples murmured, the thumb helping hold his hair captive in the older man’s grip stroking just right above his ear. “Should I tell you more? What Ples wants?”

This made him open his eyes, look as far back as he could to see the man. He desperately wanted to know, to finally now what Ples felt- and hadn’t the other man said that Ples was being turned on by this? That he was watching and enjoying it? But- maybe-

Veser couldn’t, though. That would just be cruel to Ples.

“No.” Veser choked out, closing his eyes again. “Just- No-”

He could feel Not Ples’ smile, the curl of lips too cruel for his Ples, the one that might have cared for him.

“Too bad.” Not Ples murmured, fingers drumming a little on his hip. “I think I might tell you, anyway.”

“He wants-” And slowly, the other man starting pumping his hips except this time he wasn’t stopping every few thrusts, he wasn’t teasing Veser anymore- he was fucking him in earnest now, every thrust aimed towards the spot that made his toes curl and the edges of his vision white. “He wants to hold you, Veser. He wants to make love to you.”

This- this, surprisingly, made his breath hitch and his hands clench tight against the wall.

“He feels so, so terrible up in his little room-” Not Ples was actually panting now, breaths timed with his thrusts and for a second each word sounded exactly like it would be with Ples and he moaned at that, too, but felt so sick at the same time because of Ples. “Doing what he is- what I am doing to you. He feels so, so terrible, Veser- because he can’t do this to you himself. That would be bad.”

Veser wanted to ask why- he wanted to, he wanted to have sex with Ples, make love, whatever, but he couldn’t seem to find the words, too focused on Not Ples’ voice and the way his cock was hanging, unattended, between his legs and how he was about to come, anyway.

And then- because Not Ples was a terrible man, because he seemed to know everything about Veser even though Veser never told him a single goddamned thing-

Not Ples whispered. “He loves you, Veser, but he wants to make you happy.”

A little choked off moan escaped him because fuck, fuck- fuck, that is all he wanted to hear and it made him so happy but-

“Call out Ples, little Veser.” Not Ples said, smirking. “You can make him happy.”

And fuck-

Veser did, saying Ples, Ples, Ples as he came.

>>46528

I-it's beautiful!

>>46502
DITTO.

>>46528

---AND THEN I CAME TOO.

Drawfagging this sometime this evening. Hell yes.

>>46528

I came buckets

>>46528

yesssSSS.

>>46473

I LOVE THIS FIC AND I LOVE YOU

PLEASE WRITE MORE

I-I was gonna draw fanart for the fic but then it sorta morphed into Connie fapping. Yeah, IDK either. So I'll be posting that once it's done.

Have this thing meanwhile.

>>46528
that....that was fucking glorious.

>>46528
fffsdsf yes SIR.

>>46528 That was amazing.

>>46412 Also, I have your porns. Sorry for the lateness and the overall shittery. Figure drawing classes did nothing for me... .__.

>>46551

NNHGGH... THANK YOU SO MUCH

repostin' something I fucking loved from deviant art
Sauce: http://raehimura.deviantart.com/art/Doctor-s-Orders-169002629

by ~RaeHimura
The first time Conrad fed from Worth, it was totally Hanna's fault.

They'd been investigating some suspicious animal attacks in a local neighborhood and things, completely unsurprisingly, didn't go as planned. When they'd finally stumbled through Worth's door, Conrad's arms were plastered over a wound in his side and the zombie was cradling an unconscious and freely bleeding Hanna.

"I fuckin' swear, if ya tell me he's been fuckin' with ghosts again --"

Hanna's partner cut off Worth's tirade with a look (and Conrad was reminded again that he never wanted to be in between him and a hurt Hanna). "Actually, this time it was a werewolf."

Worth took a long drag on his cigarette and flicked it into a corner, leaning over to prod at Hanna's limp form. "Seriously? A werewolf? How th' fuck did ya piss off one'a those?"

"Hanna said it was probably injured and freaked out," Conrad explained, when the zombie just stared silently. "And, uh … apparently a lot of them aren't all that fond of vampires."

Worth waved the zombie in the direction of the back room, sparing a glance at Conrad over his shoulder as he followed. "Oh yeah? An' wha' were you even doin' there, Connie?"

"You think I know? This is Hanna we're talking about!"Conrad honestly had no idea how he kept getting involved in these things. What freaking superpower did Hanna possess that made people get caught up in his doomed little adventures?

"Well, y'sure caused yer fair share a damage, didn' ya?" Worth sniped, bringing a pile of bandages over to the table as Zombie laid Hanna down.

"Are you saying this is my fault?" Conrad shouted back incredulously. "How the hell was I supposed to know that we'd run into a pissed off werewolf!?"

Worth just snorted, not looking up from his work. That scared Conrad even more than the pallor of Hanna's skin or the still bleeding cuts on his chest. It must be serious if Worth wouldn't even fight back.

Conrad watched him work on Hanna for a few minutes, but he couldn't take the constant reek of blood and the weirdly subtle sadness in the zombie's eyes. He drifted over to the far wall and sat against it, occupying himself with the two thick gashes on his side. They were clean cuts, two neat slices from the thing's canine teeth. But they burned like they'd been doused in alcohol, and they looked like they might be getting worse. Weren't they supposed to be healing themselves?

"Looks like th' pup really did a number on ya."

Worth's voice was suddenly right in his ear. When the hell had he crouched down next to him? Conrad glanced over at the table. Hanna was covered in fresh bandages, but didn't seem to be conscious. His partner was sitting next to him, one large green palm covering Hanna's too tiny (suddenly too frail) hand. Worth shrugged, lighting another cigarette with an almost graceful flick of his lighter.

"He's all fixed up, 's far as I can. Now we jus' wait fer him to wake up," he explained in a muted voice, like he didn't want to disturb the solemn atmosphere created by the zombie's unwavering orange gaze. The thought of which just made Conrad's head hurt, so he didn't dwell on it.

Worth gestured to the vamp's side, eyebrow raised expectantly. Conrad flinched away, protectively covering the injury. Worth may technically be a doctor, but Conrad wasn't thrilled about those filthy hands getting anywhere near his open wound. At least not until he was sure that vampires couldn't get infections.

"Jus' lemme see it, Connie." Worth's lowered voice almost sounded normal, maybe even gentle. Seriously, what was that? And since when did Connie sound more like a pet name than an insult?

"Fine, but be careful." Conrad gave in with frown, gingerly uncovering his side and wrinkling his nose at the blood drying on his skin. Worth peered down at the wound for a minute, prodding the skin around the sensitive area. Then, with a scarily doctor-sounding "hmm," jabbed a finger right into the gash.

Conrad might have shrieked, just a little bit, and fell away from the offending digit.

"Ah, quit bein' such a fag," Worth drawled dismissively, "'S just a scratch."

"Then get the fuck away from it." Conrad growled back acidly.

"Heh. Gladly, peaches." Worth's smirk practically dripped smugness. "But s'gonna get a lot worse if ya don' do somethin' 'bout it."

"What do you mean? I'm a vampire," Conrad said slowly, hunching his shoulders defensively. The last thing he wanted was to show Worth just how little he knew about his … condition. "Shouldn't it just heal?"

"Yeah, 'cept it's a bite from a werewolf," Worth explained, leaning back against the wall."S'like poison fer yer kind. An' that pathetic blood bag diet yer on ain't gonna fix it."

"So … what do I do?"

Worth took another long drag on his cigarette, exhaling the hot white plume in Hanna's direction. "Ya gotta eat somethin' fresh."

Conrad stared. And it didn't even matter that his mouth was probably hanging open, or that his horror definitely showed in his eyes. Because they'd been over this. A lot. He absolutely was not going to hurt another person to feed himself, particularly not some innocent stranger who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. So what if that made him a fag, or a vampiric failure? Worth knew how he felt about this. Worth knew he'd never – and Worth was still staring at him blankly, like he'd just prescribed fucking aspirin and bed rest.

Conrad just stared back. So Worth slapped his hands on his thighs, muttered something like "alrigh' then" and stood up. Ignoring the curses as he dragged Conrad up with him, he pointed to Hanna's partner.

"Keep an eye on th' lil spaz. If he wakes up, don' let him run off 'til I have a word with 'im."

The zombie barely looked up from Hanna's side, but Worth seemed satisfied with his slow nod. He pulled the bitching vamp into the main room and kicked the door shut behind them.

Conrad yanked his arm out of the doctor's grip and stalked away, hand clasped protectively over his side. "What the fuck, you absolute dick! What are you – "

He cut off as he turned and noticed Worth watching him with an intent, lascivious, frankly terrifying grin. When he spoke again, his voice was embarrassingly strangled. "What – "

"Ya need ta eat, and yer too much of a fag ta go hunt fer yerself. So 'ere." He gestured grandly to himself.

"You want me to feed from you?" Conrad stared at the doctor like he might just be an escaped mental patient after all.

"Nah shit," Worth barked, eyes narrowed impatiently. "What'd'ya think 'm saying?"

"But – I mean ..." There were so many things wrong with this scenario that it was hard for Conrad to pick just one. First of all: gross. Like he wanted to drink from someone who looked like he never bathed. And second: gross. Like he wanted to feed on anyone, ever. The whole idea of sticking his fangs – er, fang –  into anyone, not to mention getting his mouth in someone's personal space like that, was pretty much the least appealing thing ever. But all of this was just going to get him laughed at, so he settled on the one least likely to get him called a fag.

"Not that I care," Conrad assured the doctor stiffly, glaring and trying not to fidget. "But isn't that, like – dangerous? With the whole … biting thing, and the blood loss and the pain … "

He'd mostly pieced together what Hanna had been trying so hard not to tell him about Worth and his whole pain thing. But this, this would mean open confirmation. Up until now, he'd been able to tacitly pretend not to know the extent of Worth's depravity – well, maybe he'd never know the full extent, but he was pretty sure he didn't want to.

Worth just shrugged. "'M offerin', ain't I?"

Conrad hated himself just a little bit for standing there gaping.

"'Sides," Worth drawled, sliding the matted fur collar of his coat over his shoulders, "I've always wanted ta try this."

Conrad managed to stop staring awkwardly at his neck long enough to blink up at him. "You mean, you've never ..."

"Heh. Yer kind ain't exactly known fer self-control," Worth said offhandedly, putting out his cigarette on the pitted wood of his desk. "An' 'm not so keen on suicide."

"So, what," Conrad asked in disbelief, "you trust me?"

The laugh was immediate and derisive. "Yeah, trust ya not ta 'ave the bollocks ta off me."

Conrad's hands were knotted into fists before he'd even worked through what he'd said. It was like a damned Pavlovian response with Worth. But then he thought about it, realized it wasn't really an insult and settled on glaring petulantly.

"Well so-rry for not being a cold-blooded predator."

Worth's laugh actually sounded more amused than mocking. "Shut up an' eat, princess."

Conrad frowned (no, not pouted). He was probably going to have to do this eventually, and the burning in his side was just getting worse. Worth might have been one of the least hygienic options, but he was offering. It was a far cry from cornering some stranger in an alley.

"Ok," Conrad agreed hesitantly and uncrossed his arms, but otherwise didn't move.

When Worth noticed him rooted to the spot and shifting his weight uncomfortably, he rolled his eyes and huffed a long-suffering sigh. Grumbling under his breath about "pathetic fags" and "failpires," he settled himself on the edge of his desk and brandished his upturned wrist.

"C'mon, luv. Doctor's orders."

The husky edge to Worth's gritty voice so was not tempting. Or sexy. At all. And the come-hither tilt of his head just made Conrad reconsider bolting for the door.

"I don' have all nigh' to wait fer ya to grow a fuckin' pair," Worth growled at his silence, low and unimpressed. "Or do I need ta bleed into a fuckin' coffee cup fer ya, ya lil' yuppie fag?"

Conrad's eyes narrowed into another glare, barely swallowing the snotty "No." that sprang to his lips. He gathered enough righteous indignation from his pricked ego to take two strong steps towards Worth. Until their knees touched and he deflated numbly, trying to leave as much space between them as possible as he reached out for the offered limb.

He cradled Worth's wrist self-consciously and let out an unnecessary breath. Now that it came down to it, he had to face the fact that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. Or what he was getting himself into.

When he'd gotten the courage to ask Casimiro (during that card game a while back) what it was like to drink blood straight from the source, Cas had laughed for a full minute. But when Finas finally shut him up, he'd explained. He'd said it was like the best orgasm you've ever had combined with the joy of a starving man getting his first taste of food. Then add in the thrill of an addict getting a hit after long days of withdrawal, multiply it about 20 times, and you might come close to what it feels like to feed.

None of this was much help to Conrad: he'd never been addicted to anything (except maybe caffeine), he'd never been starving and he seriously doubted that those shame-filled moments in the bathroom as a teenager compared to most people's experience of an orgasm.

So he was going into this totally blind, with nothing but some half-formed expectations and the impressions he'd gotten from glittery teeny-bopper blockbusters. He glanced up at Worth, giving himself a second to actually take in the man from this perspective – and absolutely not stalling for time. It wasn't the first time he'd seen the scars and bandages that criss-crossed the doctor's arms, but it was entirely different to trace each one while he was close enough to reach out and touch them. Close enough to see each feathery, abused blue line spread close to the surface. Close enough to hear the dub-dub-dub-dub of his pulse, and see the little flutter of so soft skin at the base of his neck –

>>46554

Conrad snapped his eyes back down to the wrist in his hands. God, he was hungry. Had been already even before the attack, and was painfully aware of every drop of sustenance still leaking out of the gash on his side. And he should really just get this over with before he lost control and did something embarrassing, or dangerous. But staring at the thin nicotine-stained skin of Worth's wrist still didn't give him a clue as to what he was doing.

He tried to focus on his breathing like his therapist had taught him, but it was a little less effective now that breathing was optional. He thought briefly about making up some excuse and running out the door, but he knew Worth would never let him hear the end of it – and he did have to get blood from somewhere.

And then there was Worth, making an impatient noise and opening his mouth to no doubt mock Conrad incessantly for his cowardice. Anything was better than hearing what Worth was about to say.

So he just picked a spot and bit down.

Conrad had been expecting tension and salt and gnawing, like the few times when he'd been younger and managed to fight back with his teeth (which always got him grounded, even though the other kids had hit first). But instead, his fang slid easily into the flesh of Worth's wrist, warm liquid flowing fast and sweet.

And, of course, the first thing he noticed was his own awkwardness, painfully aware of his inexperience. He didn't know how to hold his lips, or what to do with his tongue. He could feel a trickle of blood escaping down Worth's arm. And for the hundredth time in the last five minutes, he thought about running. But then he swallowed, and the first taste of copper sent a thrill through his entire body. Another swallow, and the thrill became a burning. Like he could feel every individual nerve in his body, and each was submerged in it's own jacuzzi.

His vision was clouded with red, so he closed his eyes. He felt himself shiver from the sensation, knew he was leaning in closer to the body heat in front of him, vaguely heard the hiss of breath from somewhere above him. And then there was nothing but pale flesh and a steady stream of blood, and everything was easy and he cupped his lips just right to catch every drop of life Worth was providing. It was fucking amazing. Like nothing he'd ever come close to in his short, admittedly rather pathetic life.

Like he'd always imagined the better designer drugs must feel like, a high that blasted through your upper brain functions and left your mind a blissed out shell. Like his atoms were fucking humming.

And it didn't even matter that he was totally, completely, rapturously out of control, standing in a filthy hole of an office and drinking blood from an asshole back-alley "doctor" who may or may not have been enjoying it. It didn't matter that most of the time he couldn't stand Worth, or that his every trait made Conrad's skin crawl. It didn't matter because, for once in his life, he wasn't thinking about all the things he was supposed to be thinking, worrying about. He was thinking fuck. yes. and maybe even a little ohgodmore.

Slowly, he started to realize that the blood flow was thinning. He'd been a coward and aimed his fang for a shallow bite at the edge of Worth's wrists. That would have to be corrected.

With a slow swipe of his tongue to get at the last few drops, Conrad released his hold and pulled back. Somewhere in the dissipating haze of scarlet filling his senses, he heard an impatient growl. Then there was the heavy weight of a hand on his shoulder, keeping him from getting farther away. Like he was going anywhere yet.

Conrad grinned from some dark, feral part of himself he never knew existed, a horrible predatory twist of blood-stained lips that would disgust him later, and repositioned his mouth over the fat, jumping vein in the center of Worth's wrist. He bit down, slowly this time, marveling at the slick slide of easily punctured flesh.

And then – could a better angle really make that much of a difference? Because he could swear the blood tasted different, sweeter. With a sharp tang, more powerful than the other chemical tinges he had no wish to identify. Conrad gulped at the new flow, letting loose a low hum of approval because jesus nobody that disgusting should taste that delicious.

He almost missed it through the burst of sweetness, but Worth's pulse was picking up. It was subtle, but it echoed through all of Conrad's senses like a bassline. And it wasn't the only change. He was just tearing his attention away from the fascinating amounts of body heat pouring off the doctor, when he heard it.

Worth moaned.

Ok, so it wasn't a long, guttural, porn-star sound by any means. But it definitely wasn't a complaint. For just a second, it didn't matter that a sound like that shouldn't ever be coming out of Worth, much less while Conrad was anywhere in a hundred foot radius. For a second, he was content to think, guess Hanna was right about the pain thing, and keep drinking. Because God, he'd never wanted anything more in his life than he wanted to just keep drinking at that moment.

But then he was very abruptly reminded that he'd been drifting closer to the heat source that was Worth. And when he found himself plastered against a solid wall of grimy doctor, it was pretty impossible to ignore the evidence that said doctor was enjoying this whole experience a bit much.

That, finally, was enough to have him pulling away from Worth's wrist and stumbling back a step. He looked up and got a half-second glance of Worth leaning back on his desk, flushed, eyes glazed and smirking, before he whirled around and stuttered at the wall.

"U-um, th-thanks. I feel – better. I-I'll just ... go … now."

Conrad managed not to run as he fled from the office, but barely. As it was, he barely spared a glance as he escaped to notice that Hanna was sitting up and watching him with furrowed brows – and wouldn't that be a joy to deal with later. Worth's dry, manic laughter followed him for blocks.

It wasn't until he stopped a few streets away to straighten his clothes and check for stray blood that Conrad noticed a surprising and utterly horrifying tightness in his trousers.

Well, fuck.

>>46551 >>46548 >>46547 >>46544 >>46543 >>46541 >>46532

Hhnnng, ok, writefag of that evil!ples /Veser thing up there and I just wanna say you fags are amazing and thank you. You're making me cry tears of aaawesome and if their was fanart for this fic I'd hump you or love you lavishly, I don't know which one yet.

As for >>46554, hhhnnnnnggggg oh god that was good.

>>46528

I think I might have literally stopped breathing reading that.

That was... unimaginably hot. I will draw something for you, writer!anon. Name something, I will draw it. You need a reward for this.

>>46545
FFFF. AWWWYEAH. I love ConFap. I wait with bated breath.

>>46507
Man, I love asspats. And young!ConWorth. It's like a sick addiction. :C

>>46502
YEAH I DO.
AWW, WHY? ARE YOU FUCKED UP TOO, DARKY? IT'S OKAY, BABY. I'M A PEDO TOO.
You, me, and Luce should go to Pedos Anonymous.
HAHAHAHAHA!
... Sorry.
What should I have Luce do to Connie next? Huh, Darky? You're totally my muuuuuse. <3
[totally fapped to your drawfags while writefagging this :B]

>>46476
Thank you! I fucking love asspats.

Oh hey, what should I do next? I think someone told me what to do, but I forget.

-sage for no content-

Not mine. Seen on DA.

>>46528

DID SOMEONE ORDER SOME RAEP WITH A SIDE OF DRAWFAG?

that took much longer than expected. still kinda shitty, but ill tweak forever if i dont walk away.

buttpat tip jar for my aching wrist.

>>46585
Even though Ves/Ples is kinda 'eh' for me...
This was pretty okay. Then again, bathroom sex, ftw.
-asspats-
I think I might know what to do next...
... heh heh heh ...

-sage for lurker chatting cause I'm boooored-

Dude. Oreo Klondike bar. Fucking....unf.

>>46528

I can't tell you how much this fic hit every button for me. I would love to read more stories about evil!Ples and Veser.

I've grown fond of them as a pairing, but it seems like every fic I've read has been Veser taking advantage of Ples.

I really like it like this.

Fffffuck. I was going to make an account on y!Gal so I can see all the good shit, but talc is taken...

-sob-

What to do, anon? I'm not creative enough to think of another screenname!

-sage for no content-

>>46590
Wanna chat over IM or IRC?
/bored lurker is bored.

>>46599
Hell yeah.
IM?

>>46599
Or, I'm on the hinabn IRC.

“Come on, puppy. You gotta bark for it!” Worth taunted, waving the bag of blood back and forth with his right hand. Conrad's glare worsened, and Worth smirked when he saw his fists tighten. Conrad saw his grin and knew that he was just dogging him on....so to speak, but his anger was starting to take over.

“I'm not a dog!” he insisted stubbornly. Worth gave him a look which said Are you sure about that? Worth took a drag of his cigarette and held it in his free hand. Conrad coughed at the smell.

“Would you put that out?!” Worth's only reaction was to blow the smoke he'd been holding into Conrad's face, who reeled away at the stench. Worth's face looked like it was going to split in two with the grin he was bearing.

“Thought that vampires couldn't fucking breath...” Worth commented idly. Conrad glowered, but he couldn't think of a response right away.

“It doesn't mean it doesn't stink like hell!” he shot back, finally. It only seemed to make Worth happier, though, much to Conrad's frustration.

“Dogs aren't supposed to speak like that. Now,” he said, holding the bag out again insistently, “bark.” He stared at Conrad, who was more than a little unnerved by his gaze. He tried to hold it, but found his eyes wandering to the bag. He was so hungry....he didn't have that much dignity left to bruise, right? No! He wouldn't give that asshole the satisfaction!

“You're looking pretty hungry there, Confag,” Worth prodded again. Conrad stiffened at the insult, but he felt his hunger pulling at his insides.

“Bark,” he said lamely. Worth raised an eyebrow incredulously. Oh no...

“That's the lamest ass bark I've ever heard in my fucking life,” Worth said. Conrad narrowed his eyes.

“I barked just like you said! Give me my damn dinner!” Conrad snapped. Worth pulled the bag back when Conrad reached out to grab it. Conrad fumed, and considered punching Worth. He could get some blood that way. Ugh, but it was his blood....and it tasted nasty...not really. There was no way he would accept blood from Worth!

“Give me a real bark, and I'll give you your dinner, puppy,” Worth insisted. Conrad pulled back to punch Worth, but surprisingly, he dodged just in time.

“Fuck you!” Conrad yelled. He hoped he didn't hiss. That would be lame. Worth looked Conrad over at hearing the vampire swear. His lip curled upward slightly in an odd smile. Conrad felt his groin grow hot when he saw the look Worth was giving him.

“...Now tha's not a half bad idea...” he mumbled, and took a step towards Conrad. Conrad instinctively took a step back. Worth kept walking forward until he had him backed up against the wall. Conrad glared as he looked up at Worth, hating the fact that the other was taller than him. Worth put a hand on either side of Conrad, destroying any chance he had of escaping. Worth grinned down at him.

“Uh....” Conrad started. He really wished he had just barked and left, but it was too late for that...he shifted a bit, testing to see if he could move past Worth. Worth just smirked and moved his hands closer to Conrad's hips.

“You're gonna loike it, mate...” he told him. Conrad bit his lip in surprise when he felt Worth undo his belt and zipper.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?!” he screeched. It was a manly screech, mind you. Worth just ignored him, though, and hooking his fingers in the belt loops and pulled Conrad's pants down. He got down on his knees as he pulled his pants down. He gave Conrad a sly grin, and licked his lips as he tugged down Conrad's silk boxers.

“That's fucking fancy underwear you got there, Confag,” Worth teased. Conrad tried to protest, but the words died in his throat when he saw Worth lick his lips. Worth wrapped his hand around Conrad's length, and snickered when Conrad jumped at the touch.

“You're pretty jumpy, eh, puppy?” Worth taunted. Conrad recovered quickly and shot him a pissed look.

“Just shut up and suck,” he retorted. Worth gave Conrad's cock a squeeze as he rubbed it, silencing Conrad. He looked at what he was doing, glancing up at Conrad every now and then to see if he was watching. He was.

“You're the one who needs to suck more than I do,” he told Conrad. Conrad was grateful he didn't have to breathe, because he knew that he would have more than a little trouble with the attention Worth was giving him. He tried not to bite his tongue, but he was having trouble keeping quiet.

Worth brought up his free hand to massage Conrad's balls, and grinned devilishly at the whimper that escaped from Conrad's throat.

“Well, puppy, sounds loike you enjoyed that, now didn't you?” Worth mocked. Conrad glared down at him, but he could only watch helplessly as Worth stuck his tongue out and licked the tip. Conrad's hips bucked forward all on their own, and he silently cursed himself for letting it show that he was enjoying this as much as Worth apparently was.

Worth stared up at Conrad before taking the head into his mouth and sucking gently. Conrad rested his head against the wall, and gave up in trying to hide his groans. He could swear that he felt Worth's lips smiling around his cock, but he was a little to distracted to see if he was right.

Worth began to bob his head, keeping the rhythm slow so that they could enjoy it for a little longer.

He licked up the entire length of Conrad's cock slowly and carefully. Conrad moaned loudly. He honestly didn't care what Worth thought anymore. Worth smirked as Conrad moved his hips in time with his mouth. He moved his head a bit faster to catch Conrad off guard. Worth heard him try to hide a grunt of pleasure. Of course, he was failing miserably. Worth pulled his head away, licking at the tip as he moved back to watch Conrad's face. He rubbed Conrad's cock with his hand while he grinned up at him.

“Sounds loike you're gettin' close,” he chuckled. Conrad gave him a dark look, but he wasn't able to hold it for very long. Worth's laughter grew louder. “Oi'll take tha' as a yes...” He went back to sucking Conrad diligently, occasionally laughing at Conrad's moans. His laughter stopped, though, when Conrad grabbed the back of his head and started controlling his speed. He tried to give Conrad an angry look, but he had difficulty with Conrad guiding his head almost forcefully.

Suddenly, Conrad's hips stiffened and his grip on Worth's head let up. Worth tried to pull his head away, but he was too slow when Conrad came in his mouth. Conrad's hand slipped from his hair, and slumped to rest against Worth's shoulder. He could feel Conrad shaking slightly at the waves of pleasure that were washing over him. Worth finally pulled his head away when Conrad had finished. Conrad felt like he should take a deep breath, but he realized he didn't need to. He risked a glance at Worth, just in time to see Worth turn his head and spit on the floor. Conrad winced.

“You're disgusting,” he said. Worth wiped at his mouth as he stared up at Conrad. Conrad immediately reached down to pull up his pants, but Worth grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“And you seem to loike it, don't you?” Worth jested.

>>46604

"loike" makes me think of "sploicers". HURR HURR HURR. ILU ATLAS.

>>46528>>46584
TODAY IS A GOOD DAY.

>>46604
I think it's perfect for Worth to spit. I don't see him doing something as "loving" as swallowing. This is amazing. Keep up the good work.

pchat has NO Hanna art in it. WHAT THE FUCK GUYS.

>>46610

ILL GO IN IF YOU GO IN.

Uhhhhh here is fapping Connie. This is my first time drawing anything even remotely NSFW so I am super nervous posting this. HOPE YOU ENJOY.

>>46614

FFFFFFFFFF.
HNGH.
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.

Bee tee dubs, there are a few of us in IRC if you fags wanna join.

who wants some crazy ples and Worth?

>>46617
Baby, you don't have to ask.

>>46615
Baww I would love to come but I am no longer home (replying via phone) 8( perhaps another time?

>>46620

You tell me when. Usually I'm on at nighttimes.

Till laters /coq/.

We're off the front page...

I guess I'll make a new thread?

>>46634

go for it

Or not, because I can't find an image we haven't seen that is delightfully porny.

Ugh. i just got banned from 4-chan. Ive just reread hanna...and now im bored. entertain me plzkthnx

you know what I'd reeeaaaally like to see? Some Conrad/Hanna fluff that ends in sexiness

>>46641
Also with ... getting jealous