#I hunger carnally for their hurt comfort

[profanepurity]

“Date Night” & Ghoul Doodles

So this started out as just a super self indulgent TerzOmega blurb to try and get some happy chemicals flowing in my brain... and then it became over 1600 words lol. 

So here’s a little fic I’m calling “Date Night” 😈 I’m throwing these super old ghoul sketches here too just for a little extra 👹

CW: This fic is within my Praeteritum AU! I really like the idea of TerzOmega when Terzo is still a Cardinal and Omega is one of Papa Secondo’s ghouls (Infestissumam era masks 👀) There is also blood, death, and some suggestive content, but it never gets into explicit sex. I only did one pass through this, so there’s probably spelling mistakes in here too lol

Enjoy 🖤

There were very few things that Omega would not do for Terzo.

He still remembers, of course, when Terzo’s oldest brother, Papa Emeritus Primo, summoned him and Alpha as part of his coronation. Omega was an infernal beast, his age hailing in comparison to any human’s. While the powerful fire ghoul was definitely worthy of praise, Alpha was not the true spectacle of the ritual. A quintessence ghoul is, and has always been in the church’s history, a sacred element out of all the ghoulish creatures that lurked in the pits. A new quintessence ghoul had not entered the ministry in nearly a century. Nihil’s own having been passed down from his father, and his father’s father , and his father’s father’s father, and his father’s father’s-

Anyway.

Primo’s ritual was not only flawless, but exceptionally fruitful. However, Omega’s initiation into the church was not his most fond memory. Despite his service under Primo being comparatively miniscule to the span of his life so far, he had grown a deep respect for the old man. Even his current service under the second, Papa Emeritus Secondo, he has grown to appreciate. But it was the moment the ghoul was introduced to Cardinal Emeritus Terzo, His Dark Excellency’s youngest brother, that will perhaps forever be scorched into his mind like a brand glowing white from the fires of hell itself. The adorned high clergymen stood defore the demon, hands folded neatly behind him, and met his gaze directly. A direct challenge towards Omega. Those mismatched eyes that Omega can sometimes feel staring at him even when Terzo is out of his line of sight, were undeniably hungry. 

To no surprise, that tension snapped not long after. Lust was not something Omega nor Terzo strained themselves from indulging in. What the ghoul was surprised by, was that hunger in the Cardinal’s eyes revealing itself to be more than carnal. One night, Omega found himself seated in Terzo’s office at some unholy hour, while Cardinal Emeritus sat across from him.

Terzo enjoys talking, that is simply common knowledge. So you can image how the devilish creature was some what stunned by small, fragil human holding one of his claws in his hands in a comfortable silence. His thumb traced over scars and lines in Omega’s palm, felt the way his muscles flexed as he so gently moved his hand as if he could somehow hurt the ghoul, and dared to lightly press his thumb against the sharp ends of his nails that could tear through his flesh with ease.

Terzo looked up at Omega with a foolish amount of trust. He was still holding that large claw that usually was wrapped around his throat, gripping his hips brusingly, or fisting his black hair mercilessly. One of his Papa’s two little shadows, as him and Cardinal Copia have been commonly referred to as, was completely unaware of how he captivated the infernal creature so tremendously. Or perhaps he was aware, as Terzo loved allowing himself to be perceived as more innocent than he truly was.

Maybe that is why Omega is drawn to him so. Something wicked constantly boiled under both of their skins, threatening to burst through and engulf them both.

“Want to go see a movie with me?” Terzo’s lips curled up in that handsome curve, looking up at Omega past his lashes.

An ancient demonic creature, capable of mentally breaking the man infront of him with but a few words, leaving him a broken, hallow shell; a screaming, tormented, pitiful husk begging to be put out of his misery, just asked him out on a date. The Quintessence Ghouls were made exquisitely by Lucifer himself. He gifted them with the ability to torture man flawlessly, with divine perfection in their sheer brutality upon man’s mind and soul- shatting it completely. Omega simply blinked slowly at the question.

Again, there are very few things that Omega would not do for Terzo.

The ghoul had excused himself the next day, politely informing Papa Secondo that he was being summoned by some of the high members of the church to attend a meeting involving worhsip of the Old One, as having ghouls present always improved the connection. Thankfully Papa seemed to approve and dismissed him with no inquires, too deep within his studies. A small infant was tucked into his lap as he sat at his desk. He could only finding time to hold his new born daughter during moments like this at his desk.

Omega bowed to his excellency and his heir gratefully. Only an hour later was he fully glamoured and driving Terzo’s own car, with Cardinal Emeritus, still sharply dressed as always, sitting in the passenger seat. Omega supposed he should take advantage of moments like this. It would not be long before Terzo would inevitably become Papa, and his face would be far too known for them to go out without at least several fan interruptions. At least for now they could enjoy whatever cheesy horror movie Terzo had bought them tickets for in peace.

Peace.

Perhaps that was the true realization that should be considered here. Peace is never going to be something that is permanent in their lives. Omega is, and always will be, a creature of Hell.

Looking back on it, Terzo really couldn’t be upset. He never really was, even as he watched Omega lunge and grab the man with barely glamoured claws. Even as he gazed upon blood and flesh tearing from the man’s throat, he never grew disgusted, he only watched his beloved’s teeth sink into the man’s jugular unnervingly fast. The inhuman snarl that errupted from somewhere in the demon’s chest had made his blood run cold… and all his blood rush down.

Maybe Terzo just hadn’t fully processed that he was watching Omega maul someone. Only a few minutes ago they had parked out on the street and bought a hand full of hours from the parking meter, before beginning the walk through the alley way that would lead then towards the entrance of the theatre. Terzo’s decision to take that route was just a convenient short cut. It had been a while sine Omega had been in public with Secondo’s next tour still being a ways off. Terzo had figured the less open route would give the ghoul as little exposure as possible, and avoid a potential incident like this.

The man had been most likely drugged out of his mind, approaching them out of the shadows of the alley with an uneven saunter and mumbling incoherent noises that only vaguely sounded like words. Admittedly, Terzo hadn’t seen the sharpened object in the man’s hand immediately, and was shocked by the sight in a brief moment of vulnerability. Terzo would have been capable of regaining control and handling the situation by his own means, but his reaction time was nothing compared to Omega.

It was an instinctual reaction in self defense. In his mind, Terzo helplessly attempted not to read it as Omega protecting him. He desperately rationalized it, letting it ring as a harsh reminder that Omega was not human. That this behavior was simply a part of his nature.

No, the demon that not three days ago Terzo had caught holding the bundle that was his new born niece so gently within his great arms while Sister Diana focused on an urgent task, looking at the baby with a strikingly soft gaze behind that black mask, could not have just stepped in front of Terzo to guard him. He wasn’t ready to believe that.

Satan below, the way Omega’s eyes blazed as black smoke puffed from him with every exhale. The way his claws threatened to reveal themselves as his fingers noticeably blackened, twitchiing and flexing as they trembled from adrenaline.

But when Omega looked back at him, blood streaking across his mouth, he must have noticed the look of astonishment on his face. Terzo almost missed the way Omega’s ears would move back like a cat when he was stressed, since he couldn’t see it now with the glamour. The Cardinal could still somehow see the ghoul doing it. He didn’t know what made him want to drop to his knees more, the primal, horrific rage he had just witnessed, or the way Omega’s eyes expanded like two black orbs in his head and tail accidentally slipped from his glamour to nervously swat behind him.

“Shit- I-”

Terzo had grabbed the front of his shirt and practically dragged Omega down into a kiss. He was only successful in doing so because of how it stunned the demon. The metallic flavor of blood mixed with that sweet taste that Cardinal Emeritus could only place on a ghoul’s tongue was intoxicating. Terzo’s hands moved through Omega’s hair, slid down his broad chest, down his waist, kissing him with a feverish haste, as they reached his belt loops and-

Terzo only broke for air after he was sure his own mouth was streaked with the blood. Another low growl rumbled quietly from Omega at the sight of Terzo taking a few steps away from him. Now Omega was panting for an entirely different reason. Tiny fangs flashing behind the crimson smirk he infuriating gifted Omega.

“Grazie, mio diavolo. Let’s go, I don’t want to miss the movie.”

Fucking hell. It was all Omega could do not to slam him against the wall of the alley way when Terzo batted those pretty lashes at him, like he hadn’t just been about to grab his-

Another growl reverberated through him as his tail thumped on the ground hard once, twice, and then disappeared after the third. His full glamour returning.

“..... Fine. I want a fucking icee- a blue one.” he grumbles.

“Of course, amore. Oh- and remember to wipe that blood off before we go in.”

For some reason, no one questioned the concerning red stains on their sleeves while they were ordering that icee.

[the-epic-hiram-lows]

happy empty inbox day! top five scenarios in which hirarchie have non-metaphorical sex

Oooooh. So you didn't specify if these scenarios should be based on canon events, or if they can be as divorced from the show as I want. I am going with the former, because it is more challenging to me but also more accessible to everybody else.

These are not ranked by anything. No particular order:

In the car Hiram bought for Archie. This codes Archie's acceptance of the car as permission granted.* The implication is doubly rich if their first time ends in Hiram handing over the keys- but even if it occurs after their transaction, it tips the scales. How much of this is arrangement is reliant on Hiram's generosity? How much is Hiram's generosity reliant on this arrangement? How much is Archie agreeing to (even encouraging) in regards to their affair when he hosts it in the one thing he owns? And does he truly own it, or is the car contingent on Archie's continual participation in this arrangement? What a tangled web etc. This scenario also serves as a direct parallel to the shot of Archie and Grundy in her car.

In Archie's jail cell. Framing your lover for the murder you committed, then using your considerable pull to get an evening alone with him... dastardly. This conjugal visit could go one of two ways. One: Hiram gloats. They have rough sex, which could range from euphoric hatefucking to downright assault, depending on Hiram's exact angle and Archie's reception to it. Two: Hiram thanks Archie for taking the fall- tells him he is forever in his debt, and the sentence is only temporary until he can find a more suitable fall guy. He coos into Archie's ear about his loyalty- their loyalty to each other. Waxes poetic about Archie's unwavering bravery. How he is so very special, so very important. And, yes, they might need to put on an act for the rest of the world. Pretend to be nemeses to protect them both... but, right here and now, is the truth. Anything that happens between them that night is a pact. Like a blood oath, but not nearly as common. No. A contract Hiram is much, much more selective about entering. Archie's loyalty, and Hiram's gratitude, is endless. It is simply a shame Hiram couldn't clue him in to this plan because Archie had to go and be a little bratty. But that's okay! It doesn't matter now. Hiram holds no ill will- it is all in the past. Besides, he knows that, deep down, Archie understood. Mr. Lodge would never harm him. Many others, yes, but not his special boy.

In Hiram's study. This might be the creme de la creme for me, depending on the exact circumstances. With Hermione and Veronica- their respective paramours- often mere feet away, the risk of getting caught is severe. And yet, this risk does not outweigh the carnal hunger they have when their eyes meet.

After an underground wrestling match. Hiram is there, dressed to the nines, smugly observing a battered and bruised inmate. Yes, this has shades of the other scenario I pitched, but here the power dynamic is greater. Archie's morale is low. His body is weak. He is at rock bottom while Hiram is living his best life. What a thing for Archie to see- like the man who burgled you returning to show how he spent the money. This is a scenario in which there is no veneer of equity. Like always, Hiram has two distinct choices here: he can lean into the hurt/comfort angle, soothing the resentful boy's scrapes and bruises... or he can revel in how far his opponent has fallen. Claim the victory without an ounce of mercy. I prefer the former. I like a Hiram who knows he has the winning hand, but likes to see the players sweat. That might not be a good card game metaphor, but we know what I mean. Having the power to reveal your unambiguous victory is a rush comparable to- perhaps exceeding- the act of revealing it. Hiram, armed with some honeyed words and a few propositions, is more interesting to me than Hiram violently grabbing the chips he won and walking off the table.

In Canada. We can, once again, imagine a scenario where Hiram comes to gloat or threaten, but my pitch is this: Hiram travels to Canada, invites himself into the cabin, and congratulates Archie on a good game. Hiram's a TTRPG player- he knows that the truly fun battles are with the NPCs who pose a true threat. Archie proved himself worthy of being Hiram's true opponent. But, you see, he'd prefer allyship, and Archie is in no place to turn down a good deal. He should know that. A good business man can recognize an unmissable opportunity- surely your father taught you that, Archie? Perhaps their little grudge match is over. They both had their fun. Maybe they need to start off on a new foot now. Maybe they need a clean start. Maybe they should scoot closer to the fire place and let nothing go unsaid.

*it should go without saying, but this is not the same as true consent.

[diam-etrical]

Hello! (posting this for mobile users since most features on my blog theme can only be accessed via desktop)

But I might as well introduce myself. I'm Jam, and this is my blog where I post my art and fics.

It's mostly AruAni, but I will occasionally make fanart of the current things I'm obsessed about.

diametrical-hyde is my sideblog where I reblog my fandoms and interact with other posts (you'll see me occasionally leave deranged tags here).

-- ART --

I usually post finished art works in this art tag.

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a warrior in name, a traitor in game (ongoing)

hunger games au

my baby

written purely out of a carnal desire to see armin as hijacked!peeta

invisible string (one shot)

the person you love is not your soulmate au

another favorite child of mine

hurt/comfort is my guilty pleasure

no sweeter innocence than our gentle sins (one shot, nsfw)

smut birthed because of my love for fleabag

priest!armin holds a special place in my heart

culmination of my entirely warped upbringing as a catholic

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My linktree will direct you to my other socmed platforms.

-- ASKS --

I respond to asks using diam-etrical, not diametrical-hyde. I'm open to asks about my art process, my writing, or if you have any AA-related art/drabble requests. Send me an ask

[littlefreya]

Prompt:  

I just wondered how you think Henry would react to a virgin SO who maybe found their first time with Henry awkward or painful (‘cause it can happen) and they were worried that they had disappointed him

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Female reader

Words: 670

Warning: 18+, RPF, fluff to slight-smut, graphic post-coitus descriptions, loss of virginity, slight coaxing and slight cunnilingus.

A/N: Not beta’d! And apologies for the floral language, I’ve been reading a lot of romance lately and it’s beginning to influence me. 

Title: Lilies

Breath shuddering with ardour, Henry stilled above you with a guttural grunt. His taut muscles spasmed with violent rivulets of pleasure that coursed through his blood.

Enamoured, you gazed back at the man who pillaged your innocence, silently counting the opaline beads of sweat that gathered around at the edge of his stubbles. The newfound soreness of being broken-in left an abysmal throb in your core, each sense suddenly profound as if you awoke from thousand years of sleep and his girth still pulsated hot inside you, pumping as he sheathed himself entirely in your hilt. 

The only solace of pain was the warm silky spring produced by this carnal union.

"Are you alright, love?" his smooth timbre grounded you, making you swallow dryness and meet his gaze. Alarm washed over his face, his marine-blue eyes swam with remorse and guilt, and at that moment, unbearable heat suffused your cheeks. 

"I'm okay, just... a bit raw," You explained sheepishly, realising how ridiculous you seemed; the women he had before were presumably experienced like sultry succubi who endured his impetuous stamina, you on the other hand, mostly whimpered and wailed in discomfort.

It's not that you didn't find your first time enjoyable; you enveloped every inch of his virility with admiration as he penetrated you, blissful that he was the first to unveil the secrets of your womanhood. Yet he was too endowed, and too ecstatic if one can admit, your golden feathers burnt at the peak of your climax, your raptured canal aching as it gripped him.

Who knew one can be both in ecstasy and pain at the same time? 

"I hurt you too much..." Henry murmured, and his brow lifted with guilt. Gently, he kissed the damp spot below your eye and then your nose, "I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry, tell me what to do?"

Soft winged-kisses bathed your face in earnest apology. Henry's hands caressed and stroked and benevolently rediscovered the territory he claimed earlier, the mien of his touch profoundly tenderer.

"I never want to hurt you like this." He vowed and carefully, slowly, withdrew from your battered slit. A shallow plopping sound filled the little space between you, accompanied by the hiss that shook from your lungs as your empty cavern stung even more without the comfort of his warmth.

"That actually hurts a bit more..." you mentioned with a dry chuckle, to which Henry answered with numerous feverish pecks along your cheeks.

"How about this then?" He asked and slid his palm down the apex of your pelvis. Dainty fingers massaged the heat between your thighs, his thumb tenderly caressing the swollen little pearl above your lips.

"Is this okay?" He eyed you with wary and pressed another slow kiss to your temple.

You answered with a moan, your body arching in slow sensual tides at the soft streams of pleasure that laved your clit.

Noticing the bliss permeate your face, he gave a slanted grin and licked his bottom lip, "Should I... kiss it better?..."

Reaching your hand to stroke his curls, you smiled gently and nodded with consent, to which he bumped his nose against yours and carefully began to roam down your curves. Every patch of skin soon met with his lips, the bristle of his chin grazed down your torso while his fingers painted invisible waves on the canvas of your flesh. Smoothly he coaxed you to whatever shape he wanted, parting your thighs and making you surrender the entire of your trust to his hungering mouth.

Just so, his tongue melted against your precious jewel, tasting you with a soft hum to indicate his own pleasure of having you in his mouth. He licked and kissed and suckled in a salacious manner, collecting every ounce of discomfort and morphing it into true bliss. 

Soon you floated in his grip again, your arms spread above your head, your spine barely touching the mattress. And as your body fell apart in his mercy, you knew - he loved you as well. 

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​ 💖

[introloves]

— demon! satori + corruption + extreme sacrilege + back shots + hair pulling + overstimulation + creampie + f! reader

— wc; 1k

“i saw you crying in the chapel”

he thinks you’re beautiful.

morning light breaking into a hundred peices against your skin, catching in your hair- running down with each drop.

it’s the smell of you that brings him out, the sweetness of your tears falling against the floor.

he walks toward you, soft footfalls echoing into the cold and empty chapel.

“its a shame, isnt it?” he calls to you, watching your head lift from the safety of your hands, peering at him with wide and glossy eyes. he can see the remnants of your pain, of your despair- of all the unanswered prayers leaking down your palms, running down your arms and face.

“they never answer.”

even he sounds sad, a stark contrast to the way his lips have curled into a small smile. you might think it’s for comfort, but it’s mocking. silently challenging a higher power to stop him from taking you.

and of course, they won’t.

the words have died in your mouth long ago- nothing tumbles from your lips as he nears, not with the way he leans down and offers you a hand, despite the pain and desperation still pooled in every crease of your palm.

head tilted down to offer a sense of comfort, letting you know he wasnt there to hurt you, lulling you into a false sense of security. it didnt seem to take much to convince you, he supposes its why he liked picking the ones on the cusp of hopelessness.

hands meet and you dont catch the way his already vibrant hair seems to catch every refraction of light pouring through the stained glass.

there’s a smell of smoke permeating the air, it’s faint, but it makes you want more- gentle tugging brings you close to him.

with glazed eyes, you look up at him, captivated in how beautiful the color is. you don’t see or hear his lips move as he recites scripture over and over. looking down at you still caught in the same stupefied manner- lust and hunger lurking behind his actions.

“ye shall overthrow their altars.” he prays all the while releasing your hand, capturing your chin instead- tipping your head up to look at the concaved ceiling.

“and break their pillars.” his hand crawls up your neck, curling around your pulse points, tips of his fingers finding purchase in the hook of your jaw.

“and burn their groves with fire.” the gentle lull of his voice keeps you silent and still, even as he squeezes. even as he leans down and clasps his lips around your throat, a tongue much too thin and wet to be considered normal laving up, up and up.

the taste of him is heavy, something like ash and it nearly burns, it’s pure heat being exhaled into your lungs and it makes you dizzy.

gentle and shaky hands come up to hold onto his shoulders, a contrast to how he takes your mouth. pure lust and want make you crumble against him, eyes closed in the feeling of something wet swiping against your lips.

it’s not a tongue, not a tongue by human standards, but it doesn’t scare you, not even when he curls it into your waiting mouth, swiping against your teeth.

you’re good, he thinks as you’re pulling him in closer. not afraid, unwavering as he tugs your body against his.

an unholy being like him shakes as you cry out a plea- turning to him in solace. it’s what he feeds off, makes his skin tingle, fire inside him stroked as you settle your hips against his own.

“give me your name.” he whispers, pulling away from the sweetness of your mouth.

“y/n.” it’s uttered almost too easily, he knows you know there’s something off about him, but you still give it to him.

it makes him tip his head back. the moment you speak your name- he moans out into the chapel- it seems to vibrate off the walls, deepening as it echoes, all before it returns back to your ears in the form of a growl. he whispers your name again and again, the hands holding onto your thighs sink in deeper each time.

he brings you down, palms roaming up your legs, up your side- to rest at either sides of your neck once more.

“what would you give me, if i could take all your pain away?” satori breathes onto your lips, slithering his ‘tongue’ up the trail of still wet tears, cold atop the warmth of your cheeks.

his eyes widen slightly when you turn around silently, untangling yourself from his being, pushing the sweet little sunday dress up and over the curve of you, leaning over to rest your palms against the cold and ungiving wood of a pew.

he cant think of the last time he was ever rendered speechless or surprised, to think a little, broken, soft human like you was the one to stop all thoughts makes him shiver, head tipping back to chuckle freely.

it doesnt take long for him to sink into you, hand clasping up to entangle long fingers in your hair, pulling you up to hear him- words branded onto your naked skin with each thrust. nails scrape the lacquer off the wood, held tightly in your hands as he takes you.

you’ve never felt this good, there’s pure pleasure crawling up your back, traveling along your spine and down each limb. screams leave your drooling mouth freely, hoping, wanting someone to come see what this... man is doing to you.

he fucks the wetness out of you, splattering it against his feet, it runs down your legs and your orgasm brings more tears- the smell of it twisting in with the cum still pouring out of your battered pussy. he brings you to a point of overstimulation that might be too much, body slumping against his hold, kept upright by only the entanglement of his fingers in your tresses and the hold planted firmly onto your neck.

he starts the prayer once more, wanting to see the verse through- he thinks the words are real pretty, likes the way he can feel the eyes of holy beings drill into the back of his head while he takes you.

“ye shall hew down the graven images of their gods.” satori pants directly into your ear, not stopping despite the way you thrash against him, this was the price you had to pay- a small exchange of your own essence in order for him to truly heal you.

how could anyone think that a being of pure carnal lust- born from sin couldn’t do a better job of repairing the soul of a dirty and inherently sinful human?

he would take it- take you and break you down, orgasm by orgasm, bring you on the cusp of unconsciousness- before truly mending the pain and hurt.

he begins the tugging of your hair once more, moving your head to look directly ahead- blurry eyes focus on the sad image of a cross.

“and destroy the names of them out of that place.” he finishes, pushing into you with the final thrust, cumming inside you with a ferocity that has it squirt from where you’re connected.

it joins your own, puddles of it coagulating in clumps as it drops down from your cunt.

“say my name-” satori whispers, and despite not uttering it once, you know it.

“satori.” it leaves you with ease, it sounds like honey and it rumbles in the walls around you.

his body shakes behind you, and you whimper with the way his hold tightens.

“you’re mine.” he barks, hysterical and loud, facing directly at the altar- smiling wickedly when the chapel seems to bend, twist, and shake... all before settling back down.

you sound so sweet, crying out his name in reverence, seeking the warmth of his being- the warmth he could provide.

claiming you, keeping your soul in his filthy hands was the best thing he’s done in a while, and all because:

“he saw you crying in the chapel.”

[full-of-mercy]

It feels like a thread of tension has broken, and like the occasional too-tight rubber band Nicholas wears around his wrists, its snap is liberating. A touch of adrenaline mingles with relief, spiraling through his reckoning, and it really is for the better that he is both on his back and held captive between strong thighs. Otherwise, with the fluttery feeling that vaults between his stomach and his ribcage, he might well float away.

Chuckling spools out into a purring groan, though Wolfwood cannot manage the same pitch and timbre of Vash's preternatural resonance. It does not stop him trying, low enough to vibrate - although that might just be the creak of the cheap mattress underneath them as they adjust, unmistakable with the intimate gravity he no longer resists rocking into. Once, twice, press-grind, abdomen cording, stark in the skew of pale linen. His ribs expand against the pressure of squeezing knees, still perfectly capable of breathing, of moving. He could topple them over, could rearrange their orientation with ease, but he does not. Instead he grips Vash's waist, kneading his thumbs over the changing textures of unbroken flesh and smooth-silvery scar over rippled strength. Fearless. Wondering.

Because of course he has wondered.

He can lie expertly to himself, but he cannot lie about this.

They have lived more or less in one another's skin for years now, one way or another. On the road, on Angelina, on transports, in tiny cramped rooms, in shared beds, out in the wilderness. Close proximity has become a source of comfort as much as it can spur irritation, bickering that has become something of a second (third, fourth) language, a sort of unspoken affection along with every excuse for casual touch. Stitching wounds, cleaning up after gunfights, tending hurts… they have seen one another in the nude.

Wolfwood has looked, curious but never daring to pursue or presume until now. Until this overt welcome. Clear signs. Signs even he cannot ignore, cannot help but answer, because they have pulled on a thread of want he could only imagine on lonely nights and with a scrap of stolen clothing, pining away between the pillars of guilt and longing.

Everything outside of this space has ceased to exist.

There is only this.

Steady, swift, he drops his hands to assist peeling leather away, flicking buckles open and pulling zippers to free Vash from his ridiculous gunslinger's attire. The notion of quick-release like Punisher's bindings comes to mind, flickering in and out, stashed for later.

Maybe.

When he looks down, when he arrests his own urge to flee, Vash finds Wolfwood staring.

Lips parted, rounded, kiss-swollen as he observes, as he breathes slow and deep, scenting like a beast, tongue curled against the backs of his incisors. Too pink, the seam, but sheened, promising, enough to inspire a dull throb as his hips tic-twitch against nothing. The color rides high on his cheeks and his eyes are blown so dark that his pupils swallow his irises.

He, too, must swallow.

Meeting eye contact with Vash branches heat lightning down his spine, an aching jolt, a pang of hunger. His nostrils flare.

And then without hesitation, without warning, he hooks his forearms under, grips buttocks, and pulls, leveraging the slippery coverlet and the breadth of his own torso to yank Vash toward his chest. Further. Closer. Gaze held, he tilts his face left and right, brushing the stubble of his jaw and cheeks to inner thighs. Closer, closer. Nearer. Kisses follow, methodical against old wounds and unblemished skin, against his own impatience. Nicholas endeavors to make it quite clear just where his destination lies.

A nuzzle to the crease of thigh and pelvis, the arch of his nose wedged in tight, inhale-exhale, humid and hot.

"I can hold my breath a long time," he thrums, low and carnal and utterly enamored, pressing a kiss to the pad below Vash's navel with another deep, deep inhale. "Do what comes natural."

A graze of teeth - gentle, gentle - before he cranes his neck and tips his chin, mouth blooming open to fit and form over Vash's sex. Tongue curling zig-zag, stroking from seam to bud and back with a rush of saliva, he echoes their earlier mauling in slow-motion, all with an abiding hum.

@full-of-mercy

Vash can't help but grin wide enough to expose sharp teeth, entirely too pleased about Wolfwood's reaction to his jokes. It's clear in the resonance as much as it is in his expression, vibration pulsing before calming further; he really wants to be careful with that, particularly given how they're positioned. Better not to answer some questions about physics directly.

His attention is wholly taken up by the man beneath him, anyway. That laugh. His expression. There's a kind of beautiful, exquisite aliveness that he's peering down at, close enough to memorize details, to be lucky enough not to have the words for what he's observing or he would make the dire mistake of speaking them out loud. Whatever this is, it remains nameless. Unlabeled, experienced rather than witnessed. He doesn't mean to laugh along, to partially cover up the sound of the laughter he's so intent on remembering well enough to play back in his thoughts later, but it's good to join in.

Like it's good to welcome touch. Not fleeting, not simply familiar, and a far cry from the routine of cleaning and wrapping wounds. Touch just to feel. Touch just to touch, for the sake of enjoyment. It kicks up a hum in the back of his throat, low and soft and harmonizing with the resonance in the short time it's present, Vash peering down through lowered lashes with something that looks a lot like hunger and fondness combined.

It remains a little surprising when there's no hesitation to touch scars. The ugly bits. The things he prefers no one else have to see, to deal with, but it's-- It's different with him. Them. That thought is too close to being dangerous to follow, but the grasp of his hips allows easy movement and good timing, ability to think quite easily going snow-static-fuzzy as he leans forward with a hiss of breath.

The knees which had barely been hugging Wolfwood's sides suddenly take to squeezing a bit more solidly, a tremor working through his body from the new point of contact. The squeeze isn't enough to be uncomfortable, he doesn't think. When he can think again; he's not too sure about in the order of events between the words the other man says and the way "not sitting on my face" makes Vash's entire body feel like it's suddenly overcome with fever.

He can feel himself-- Not fully opening yet... blooming? Petals filling, their spiral loosening, while still confined. Any, ah, possible dripping on the leather won't be too difficult to clean at this stage, and that's far too practical of a thought to keep his attention. The physical reaction is more than he expects, faster, and he's not sure what Wolfwood can feel through the leather, but it probably isn't too dissimilar to the start of a man's bulge--

I'm game. He... wonders. Hopes. The fear rises and falls in waves, but it's never powerful enough to get him to stop. It's a thrill sometimes, it's a good reason to pull away others, but it... this... Vash swallows. They aren't supposed to think. Alright, then It's false confidence. It'll have to do. For all he's sure that Wolfwood is aware of when it comes to him, what he is, he can't know what the other man is truly prepared for.

The movement is intentional. It's a little more awkward then it should be, maybe, lifting and walking back on his knees just enough to oh so deliberately lower and slide them both into a much more obvious position, more or less aligning them with a questionably rational roll of his hips. It makes him gasp, resonance stuttering as he sits up again, pleasure-warmth driving his fingers to being a little too quick about getting his pants undone and maybe one of those buckles is going to need a repair, but later. Later. He just-- He needs to get them open, to peel them off his hips just a little, just enough to at least partially expose--

It's the anxiety of uncertainty that drives the bud back to winding tightly closed, petals with slightly glistening edges still entirely too pink to pass off as anything remotely human. Vash doesn't know where to look, if he should look at anything; his eyes dart around a bit but focus on nothing, trying not to shy away or pull into himself, but-- "I-it's okay if you..." There are too many ways to finish that sentence, and they're all a little devastating.

He doesn't retreat in spite of the fleeting reflexive urge to, but holding himself still makes his legs tremble a little too long to deny. There's no point to hiding, no point in pretense. Too much thinking. Way too much thinking. Not nearly enough subtlety in finally glancing back at Wolfwood's face to try and measure his reaction.

[leagueoflegendsimagines]

sfw and nsfw headcanons for jhin x sona please?

Hello my lovely! After a long wait, here is the fruit of your patience. As a side note, I'd like to say that I'm not very keen on writing championxchampion ships - but I still do it because it's good to leave my comfort zone.

It's double the effort, you know. I try to... maintain the characters in their personality or twist them in a way that would at least make sense. I don't enjoy going too out of character with them. That beats the point of writing them in the first place, doesn't it?

Because you didn't specify what you want more exactly, I've decided to write a Sona and Jhin scenario in the Blood Moon universe. I think I've seen a post about it a long time ago. And I believe that Sona would fit well into this, with how elegant and gentle and regal she seems to be.

It also makes things easier for me to write. So I will stick to this idea for now and if you wish to see them in a different universe or scenario, you can always send me another request.

SFW & NSFW

~ They had first met during a concert.

~ In such turbulent times, things were quite harsh in Ionia. Many people were living in fear, dreading the moment when the Blood Moon would show itself again - dreading a moment that could bring forth their death.

~ Sona had no such fears, however. She played her divine instrument in a flawless manner, weaving notes of peace and quiet for the frightened souls that would gather up to watch her. To admire her strong spirit, her pure and undefeated passion.

~ And her days were quiet. She didn't live in fear like many Ionian citizens. She didn't watch the Blood Moon with frightened eyes. She didn't avoid going outside when the moon was covered in that carnal and animalistic red.

~ One of her greatest admirers bestowed his protection upon her. A tall, elegant man with horrifying mismatched eyes. A being of pure hunger that haunted her soul. Her very being.

~ A man that would always watch her performances from the shadows of the large and dark theatre, a glass of crimson wine pressed against his pale lips. He'd never wear that dreadful mask in public displays.

~ Here, he was only Jhin. Here... things were different. He seemed to be another man when the demon inside him slumbered.

~ Elegant and powerful, Jhin was like no other man she had ever encountered. There was something ethereal and hypnotizing to see in even his slightest and most casual movements, something so hard to resist.

~ Something ancient. Something older than the world itself, rotten and dark and... ~ And enchanting.

~ And the intensity of his gaze always left her quivering in fear and anticipation, wondering what would come next. What he would do next.

~ It took Sona a long time to get used to their... arrangement. She wasn't quite certain what it was. Being courted and wooed by such a powerful individual - it brought certain benefits to your life.

~ People treated you differently. People feared you. They feared hurting you or offending you in any type of manner. While many of them didn't quite know who Jhin truly was, everyone had a strong awareness of his importance in a fearful society.

~ A patron of the arts for some. A cruel and strong man for others. ~ Always willing to do anything it might take to reach his objective.

~ And always willing to do so with the utmost grace, dragging his enemies through dirt and trash with a steady hand until they became a begging, frightened mess.

~ Her performances were indeed something when he was around to watch them. But the aftermath was even better.

~ Jhin was a man of culture. He knew how to court women, how to treat them properly. ~ He knew how to bring them pleasure - and pain, if it was necessary -. He knew how to bring them to submission, how to make them kneel in front of his being in both pleasure and fear.

~ He knew his craft better than anyone else in his clan. And Shen, even as his bodyguard and trusted friend, would never understand how precious the love of a woman like Sona could be - such a sweet, pure fragrance for him to enjoy. Such a delight of the senses for both him and his inner demon.

~ He treated her like a queen in exchange for her love and devotion. His gifts were otherwordly. The food he'd serve his dinners with held the most exquisite flavors she'd ever had the chance to taste. The flowers he brought her held fragrances long forgotten to the world, strong and dizzying in their sweet and exotic scent. The silks he gave her, the dazzling jewels he'd leave behind for her to enjoy...

~ Sona never thought anyone would spoil her in such incredible ways. She never thought anyone would care for her so much. Not when she was an orphan. Not even when her benefactor adopted her.

~ His touch always left her trembling, an aftertaste of old things and ash on her tongue. It made her skin prickle with electric energy - the touch of a being stronger than she would ever dream to be.

~ A touch so unholy and carnal - long fingers brushing against her naked collarbone, tracing the brilliant jewels of her necklace, the precious stones shining in the low light of the burning candles.

~ He'd always be so gentle at first. Caressing her pale skin in a reverent way, breathing in the tender scent of her skin, the light breeze of her modest perfume. A greedy being, the lust in his eyes would burn bright into her skin.

~ And her blood would boil with shameful need and desire when his nimble fingers would brush against the rich curves of her breasts, their heat haunting her through the soft and slim silk of the richly colored gown.

~ His kisses were always hot and heavy, burning into her very core. Jhin knew how to make her lose any sense of individuality with the experienced strokes of his tongue, with the possessive hand squeezing her nape - enveloping her fully in his broad and oppressive presence.

~ There were no declarations of love. Those seemed to be forbidden for beings like them. But she could always read it in his touches, in the way he'd wrap her in his very presence. In the force behind his thrusts when he held her down, driving inside her with a passion and carnal power only a man like him could possess. ~ There was no need for him to talk about his love when he could see it in his eyes in late nights they'd spend together, entangled in a sweaty mess of limbs and luxurious sheets. ~ And Jhin was very well aware of the love she held for him. A love that burned as bright as the light of a new day, as pure as her gentle heart. ~ The only man to love her for who she truly was. A monster - but one that made her happy. ~ A man that loved her more than she could ever hope to love herself. ~ And if she needed to accept the demon inside him - if she needed to love even the darkest side of him...

~ She would do so with her utmost devotion and dedication.

~ And she'd show no hesitation in bringing down anyone who would dare harbor any ill-feelings toward her benevolent patron, her one and only love.

[fatedefyd]

   dusk !!

 

         How does he do that with his mouth ?  How does he take in so much without gagging ?  It’s incredibly impressive.  

         With spit dripping from his member, the sounds that Dusk creates with his lips and the smell that sources from him have successfully put the big cat under a spell ; adding on the expression across that star-speckled face, and Azure isn’t certain how much longer he can last.  Not with those eyes looking up at him like that. 

         He is surprised when the simian grants the towering one permission to be rough, though. It wouldn't take much to hurt the violet-eyed simian -- too tight a grip or too rough a pull, and his head could come clean off ! But... those eyes.. maybe he can just...

Pale blue paw is careful with his grip on him, knowing of his true strength. As the other speeds up, there are intervals where Azure keeps him in place, as deep as Dusk's throat will allow. There was something about THAT particular spot that tickled him just the right way, an itch being scratched that the towering enforcer didn't know he had ; not until the starry-faced monkey decided to offer himself for this odd occasion. It makes his eyes flutter closed, in those moments, posture slouching and breath picking up pace. Wet noises as a result of Dusk's handiwork are almost enough to drive Azure off the edge, right off the cliff and into the bliss of full-body fireworks--

❝ w-wait, ❞ He attempts to stammer out, straightening himself and going against the wishes of his depraved thoughts. It's difficult to shake himself from this daze, this enchantment that Dusk had put him under, and his cock throbs and bobs impatiently when he pulls it out of the comfort of the simian's warm, wet throat.

❝ i want to cum inside you. ❞ Azure states with a hungering gaze, maw of sharpened teeth pulled back at the corners from ear to blue-hued ear. If Dusk didn't know, the magenta eyes that look him over are drawing into a carnally-ravenous territory, emphasized by the dragging of the giant's meaty tongue over razor-edged canines.

"Not my fault it takes a real man to impress me."

[my-emotional-self]

Toxic Love Chapter 11

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing.  But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings:  18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy), mentions of suicide, flashbacks of suicide, nightmares

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story!  I apologize in advance!

The minute you stepped out of the convenience store, you popped open the cap of the vodka bottle that was tucked away in the brown paper bag.  The warm liquid burned your throat as you took a large gulp.  Tucking the bottle under your arm, you took out a cigarette and lit it.  Putting the cancer stick in-between your lips, you took a deep drag.  The smoke too burned your throat.  The nicotine and alcohol felt heavenly.

Not knowing where to go, only knowing that you didn’t want to go back to the tower yet, you began walking. The streets weren’t completely deserted, but it was no afternoon day.  The sky was black but the streets were filled with lights from cars, apartments and stores.  

Alternating between drags of your cigarette and shots of your vodka, you kept on walking.  As you rounded the corner you saw a group of four men hanging out against the side of a building.  Walking closer, you noticed that there was music playing from a speaker at their feet.  The men began to break dance.  In your slightly inebriated state, you watched them in awe.  Your hips swayed with the music as you hollered and cheered them on.  

“Wow!  That was great guys!” you enthused.  

The four men turned to look at you.  Their eyes roaming up and down your body.  “Now what’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here all alone?” one of them asked.  He had a smirk on his lips and hunger in his eyes.  

You shrugged, taking a drag of your cigarette.  “Oh you know. Just getting into some trouble.”

The men laughed, liking your answer.  But then you soon saw their eyes grow wide at something they were staring at behind you. Confused, you turned around, cigarette hanging from your lip as you saw one seriously fucking angry soulmate strutting down the sidewalk towards you.  

Steve’s eyes were ablaze with fury.  His fingers ripped out the cigarette from your lips before grabbing the bottle of liquor in your hand and smashing it on the ground.  

“Hey!  I paid for that you know!” you yelled at him.  

“Do you really think I fucking care?” he growled back at you, his face nearly pressing against yours.

You tried your best to shove him away but he was too quick.  His hands gripped your wrists and you winced in pain from the fresh cuts. But Steve didn’t notice you wince. Oh no.  He was too far gone to give a shit right now.  Steve picked you up and threw you over his shoulder.  

“Hey man, put her down!” you heard one of the men say, although it was difficult as your blood was rushing to your head.  

Steve ignored the man and started walking.  Using your feet, you tried to kick Steve.  But it was no use.  So instead, you did the next best thing you could think of.  Using your fists, you began punching him in the back.  The man was built like steal.  

A startled gasp left your lips as you felt Steve land a hard smack to your ass.  “What the fuck Steve!”

He did it again.  And three more times before he finally spoke. “You brought this on yourself Y/N. You broke the damn rules,” he growled.

You gave up.  No point in even trying to wriggle yourself out of his death grip.  With each step he took you became more sober at the reality of things.  

In what felt like eternity, but you knew was only mere minutes, you were back at the tower.  

 He threw you down on the bed and you bounced.  Steve gripped your ankles and slid you so that your ass was nearly hanging off the bed. His eyes were dark.  And it wasn’t because of the darkness of the room. No.  The curtains were open and the high moon lit up the room.  Steve looked downright terrifying but he wasn’t as scary as John used to look.  No, John would hurt you and abuse you for laughs, for his own sinister pleasure. The way Steve looked, it was downright carnal and it made you so aroused.  

In what seemed like a blink of an eye, Steve had managed to get your shoes off your feet as his hands began tearing at your zipper and buttons.  His fingers slipped into the waist band of your jeans and underwear, yanking them roughly down and off your legs.  You could only hope that he left your top on.  The last thing you wanted to do was explain the cuts on your forearm and wrist.  And to your utter relief, he did.    

There you were, naked at the lower half, unsure of what to do.  Most of those would probably try and cover their lower half, try and hide in some way but you couldn’t.  You were frozen.  Your eyes were trained on Steve’s as he shoved down his own black sweats.  His large and very thick cock sprang free, hitting him in the stomach.

Your eyes grew wide as you stared at him.  At his cock. ‘That isn’t going to fit’ you thought to yourself.  John was big, but Steve.  Fuck Steve was huge.  

Steve lunged towards you, his left hand grasping your neck and shoving you back onto the bed.  “Is this what you want?” he growled through clenched teeth.  “Is this the kind of punishment you need to start behaving yourself?”

“Yes,” you answered breathily, his hand tight on your throat but you could still breathe.

He was standing between your parted legs, a quiet moan escaping your lips as you felt his fingers began to trail upwards on your inner exposed thigh.  Your stomach clenched in anticipation.  He was close.  So close to where you wanted him.   No. Needed him.  Fuck you desperately needed him to touch you right now.  

“You want me to be rough with you?  To punish you because you’ve been a naughty girl?”

His words shot straight to your aching core.  Your mind reeling as to why you did want this.  When John was this way with you, you were terrified.  In so much fear.  But with Steve, you didn’t feel like that.  Because you knew deep down, he wasn’t going truly hurt you.  He wouldn’t do that.

Steve’s lips claimed yours just as his fingers made contact with your wet folds.  A lust filled groan escaped his mouth at how soft and warm you felt on his fingers.  If was an even possible to do, you spread your legs wider for him.  

His grip on your throat tightened as his tongue invaded your mouth.  It was all too much and at the same time not enough at all.  His thick finger began to probe at your entrance. He was teasing you.  That fucker. You tried to buck your hips into him but he wasn’t having it.  He removed his finger from you and instead, shoved it into your mouth, making you taste yourself.  

You swirled your tongue around his finger and you felt Steve grow harder against your thigh.  Was that even possible at this point?

He retracted his finger and it went straight to your entrance, plunging in deep.  “AAhhhh,” you cried out at the intrusion.  Sure, you had used toys during your single life. But nothing compared to the real deal.

Steve’s finger was relentless inside of you, working in and out as his teeth bite at the delicate skin of your neck.  He pumped a second finger into you and you were so close to the edge.  Just a little bit more.  

“You hear that?  Do you hear how wet you are?” Steve husked into your ear.  Of course you could hear it.  How could you not?  The squelching of your wetness was the only thing you could hear over the moans of your pleasure.  

His palm was hitting your clit in just the right way; his fingers curling expertly inside of you. “Yes.  Yes…yes!” you cried out on the brink of your orgasm.  But it never came.  Because yet again, Steve removed his fingers from you.  

A desperate cry of frustration left your lips as you locked eyes with Steve.  He removed his hand from your throat and you didn’t realize until then how tight his grip was.  He pulled himself off of you and began to stroke himself.  Your legs were still spread open wide and Steve managed to pull you even farther off the bed.  

One hand was under your hip, holding you from falling off the bed, while his other lined himself at your entrance.  His cock plunged into you with no mercy and you cried out.  It was a bit painful as you never experienced anything as big as him. And he was relentless.  Steve didn’t give you any time to adjust to him as his hips furiously pounded into you.  

His hands gripped your hips, keeping you from falling off the bed and it was the most glorious pain you had ever experienced.  You couldn’t wait to see the bruises come morning.  

Your fingers gripped the bedding as breathy moans escaped your mouth.  The pleasure mixed with the pain was euphoric.  

Steve pulled your hips to him with every thrust, impaling you and you could only hope the man didn’t split you in half.  He was harsh and punishing and you reveled in it.  

Fire began to pool low in your belly and you felt your inner walls begin to tighten.  You were right there.  Right on the cusp of your high and Steve knew it too.  The bastard stilled his movements, stopping completely and you whimpered.  

His breathing was ragged and you just wanted to cum.  That’s all you wanted.  Not even thinking, your own fingers trailed to your clit and began moving in a circular motion.  Steve wasn’t having any of that.  He slapped your hand away and his grip was back at your throat.  

“What did I tell you huh?”

“But Steve,” you whined, eyes opening to find him glaring at you.  

“You don’t deserve to cum.”

And that’s how it was back. Back and forth for what felt like hours. Steve pumping furiously into you. His finger sometimes teasing your clit. Only to either fully still his motion, of pull all the way out of you each time you were on the brink.  

It was torture.  Pure and utter agony.  

“Please,” you cried out, needing a release.  It had been so long.  Not just tonight, but in general.  Especially after your hot and heavy make-out sessions with both Steve and Bucky only for it to lead nowhere.  

“Please what?” Steve demanded as started hammering into you again.  

Tears began to roll down your cheeks in frustration.  “I…,” you tried to say but nothing would come out.  

“Use your words Y/N,” Steve’s rough voice broke through the ringing in your ears.  “I need to hear you say it.  Maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll let you cum.”

“Steve please.  I…I need to cum.  I need to cum so bad,” you begged him, your head shaking back and forth. You wouldn’t be able to do it again. You would break if he didn’t let you cum.  

The pad of his thumb found your clit and he pushed down, beginning to rub in circles.  You were afraid this was a trick.  He was just going to mess with you again.  But you began to feel your walls tighten and Steve continued his movements.  He didn’t stop.  It was happening.  He was going to let you cum this time.  

It was nearly instantaneous. The coil within you snapped and you were screaming Steve’s name as your orgasm shattered throughout you making your body nearly convulse.  It was the most intense feeling you had ever experienced and it made you crave more.  

As you came down from your fierce high, you could feel Steve’s movements begin to falter.  His grip on your hips tightened to the extreme before he stilled, filling his seed inside of you.  

It was all too much. Between your fight with Steve, the crying and cuts on your arm and the craziest best sex of your life, you closed your eyes and passed out.  But not before Steve’s named tumbled out of your mouth in a whisper once more.  

[bluewhale52]

RED (M)

Things you need to know about this fic:

1. Hobi is tied up during sex 2. This piece is inspired by a prompt I saw on @creativepromptsforwriting: “Can we go on one date without you causing someone trauma?” “Babe, I’m a demon. What do you expect me to do?” (Submitted by: welcome-tothe-mystery-shack)

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x female reader

WC: 6.4k

Rating: Explicit. NO MINORS ALLOWED!

Genre: idol!au, fantasy!au, supernatural!au, estabished relationship,

Warning: one of the characters is a demon, mention of Hobi’s red suit (yes, THAT one), oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, kinda rough sex but not that crazy rough, slight choking, for once Hoseok is not the dom.

A/N : thank you to the lovely @illneverrecover who really boosted my confidence and enjoyed the story when I wasn’t even sure about it!

Taglist: @gee-nee​

Just over two years ago, Hoseok met you in an upscale club.He remembers the moment he saw you as if it was only yesterday. He remembers seeing you all by yourself at the bar in the VIP section, your finger circling the mouth of your martini glass lazily. He remembers the blood red dress you wore- how it was so conservative that it covered you up completely, but it hugged you in all the right places. He remembers the way you looked at him- as if you were hungry for him- and it still sends shivers down his spine to this day. 

You approached him that night- nothing unusual for him, men and women flock to him because of his idol status- and he was instantly enraptured. The piercing gaze you gave him rendered him immobile. The swaying of your hips hypnotized him completely that he forgot where he was. And somehow, SOMEHOW, he found his members all gone- to the bar, to the dance floor, to the restroom, who knew. Then you sat yourself next to him, your long fingers trailed from his shoulder down to his thigh. Your mouth whispered such filthy things in his ears and he thought he was going to come in his pants.

Hoseok agreed too easily at your invitation to go back to your place. He had never gone to anyone’s home for a hookup- it was simply too dangerous- but he did not even think twice when you invited him. There was something about how you drew out his desires, almost as if you were feeding off them to satiate your carnal hunger. Though the night was a blur to him, he remembers the lustful, searing passion he had with you. He also remembers waking Jimin up when he returned to the dorm in the early morning, begging him to help cover up all the marks you had left on his neck and collarbones; he was too embarrassed to face the stylists later that day. 

That one night hook-up turned into several nights, and ignoring Namjoon’s warning, Hoseok continued to see you whenever he was in Seoul. Before he knew it, he started developing feelings for you, and he gathered his courage to ask you out on a proper date.

He could see the shock in your face when he asked, but you eventually agreed on one condition. He had told you he was going to New Zealand for Bon Voyage, and you dared him to do a bungee jump there. If he did it, he got himself a date with you. 

And a date was won, for he faced his fears and took the plunge. You both agreed to have your first date in your apartment, a place you both were comfortable in and also for privacy obviously. Dinner was delicious, conversation flew effortlessly, and Hoseok’s feelings grew even stronger. 

He confessed to you as he was pinning you down on your sofa, kissing you hungrily and passionately. You pushed him away, looking worried and confused.

“Babe, are you all right?” He stroked your hair. “I’m sorry that came out of nowhere, I just wanted to let you know, I really want us to pursue this.” 

His heart dropped when you looked away. Then in a small whisper, you replied to him.

“Hoseok, I’m a demon.”

Hoseok stared at you for a few seconds before bursting out laughing. He looked at you once his laughter had subsided, then laughed again, albeit a little more unsurely at the sight of your serious expression.

“Wait, no, there’s no such thing.” He paused. “Right?”

“I really am a demon, Hoseok.”

He eyed you skeptically, figuring out which way your joke was going to. 

“Seeing is believing, right?” You snapped your finger and produced a red flame on your palm. 

Hoseok’s eyes widened. “How.. how did you do that? That’s such a cool magic trick!”

However, he gulped audibly when your facial expression fell. Anyone would be excited to show off a cool magic trick, but you looked… dejected? 

“Hoseok,” you said softly. “You trust me, don’t you? You know that you’re safe, as long as you’re with me.”

“O...kay….” he chuckled nervously.

You stood up and took a deep breath. The apartment turned pitch dark, and your body was bathed in red flame, providing the only source of light. Your eyes turned red, staring him down as your mouth turned into a wicked smile. Hoseok sat frozen on the sofa, fear paralyzing him, finally realizing this was indeed no mere magic trick. Then you raised your arms, and luminous green shadows appeared behind you, ugly and vicious. You leaned down toward Hoseok, and he immediately tried to back away. With a gesture of your hand, two streaks of green slithered around his body, holding him in place. 

“Trust me, Hoseok.” you whispered, then you placed your palm over his heart, and to his horor, you drew out a thin black smoke out of his chest. You then twirled it around your long finger. “This is fear,” you explained, “I pulled this out of you, just a little bit, not all, because I… well I like it when you’re a scaredy cat.”

The green shadows were growling, hungry. “They like negative emotions. Fear, jealousy, greed, they feed on them.”  You blew the black smoke towards the shadows behind you. The green shadows screeched and fought to gobble up the smoke in no time, then you sent them back to the dark abyss with a soft chant. The light came back on, and the flame around your body disappeared. 

You turned to look at Hoseok, once everything was back to normal. He was patalyzed still- eyes unblinking, ears ringing, heart beating fast and brain malfunctioning over what he had just witnessed. 

“You… you’re..” he finally snapped out of his shock, “you’re a demon.”

You nodded and kneeled before him. “I am, Hoseok. And I think I have feelings for you too.”

Hoseok gasped. Then it all went black. 

Hoseok finally came to, and he found himself in your bed, tucked underneath your blanket. He slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes and his head. He tried to recall what happened before he fainted, but he was distracted by the sounds from  outside your bedroom.

Hoseok gingerly got out of bed and walked out, still rubbing his head. Then he found you in the living room with... Yoongi?

“Hyung?”

Yoongi gave him a silent wave as a way of greeting.

“What are you doing here?” Hoseok sat down on the sofa. He noticed you were keeping your distance from him. “What’s going on?”

“Hoseok,” you called his name gently, “do you remember what happened?”

Hoseok tilted his head, trying to recall. He remembered having dinner with you, kissing you, and then…. Hoseok recoiled at the memory of red flame and green shadows. You winced at his reactions.

“Hoseok, please calm down, don’t faint on me again.” You pleaded. 

Hoseok snapped his head towards Yoongi. “Hyung?”

“She told me what happened, Seok-ah, down to the scary bits that knocked you out.”

Hoseok found your eyes again. “So, it’s true then, you’re really a demon?”

“Yeah…” you shrugged your shoulders. “Technically a succubus, but I prefer being called a demon.”

“How… what... “ Hundreds of questions ran through his mind. He looked back at Yoongi for help, and he was shocked to see how unaffected Yoongi looked. “Hyung, did you know all this while? And, why are you here? How can you be so calm?” Hoseok gasped. “Wait, are YOU a demon too?”

“Weirder things have happened.” Yoongi answered nonchalantly.

“Did she show you all the flames and shadows? And they didn’t bother you?”

Yoongi shook his head. “She said I’d be safe, so no, it didn’t bother me much. A bit scary, yes, but I was okay.”

Hoseok stared at Yoongi in amazement, confused at how he was taking the news so easily. So instead, Hoseok stood up to pace back and forth, trying to gather his thoughts. “Okay. So you’re a demon, technically a succubus…”

You nodded.

“... so, did you ever suck my soul? Or tried to? Do I still have a soul?”

You wrung your hands. “I never did, well, I mean, when I first saw you in that club, yeah I wanted your soul so badly because I could smell its purity. You were so tempting. And I did take you home planning to suck it out of you, but I couldn’t do it. Not that night and any nights after.”

Hoseok looked  at you, hearing what you said but not fully comprehending it. He looked at Yoongi for help, but his friend simply shrugged again. “I admit this is a lot to take in, but, she hasn’t hurt you so far.”

“Okay, so you don’t want my soul.” You shook your head. “And what about my members? Do you want their souls?”

“No, of course not! If I wanted theirs, I’d have slept with every single one of them. And I didn’t. Nor do I ever plan to. I just… I just want to be with you.”

Hoseok swallowed hard at your confession. Despite everything that had been revealed to him, he still wanted to be with you too. But he had so many questions yet to be answered. “So, you’ve sucked other people’s souls before?” 

“Well yeah, that’s my job. I have a monthly quota to meet.”

“A quota? What do you mean, a quota?” Hoseok asked, his curiosity peaked. 

“Do you honestly think I’m in this world, just for fun? If I want to keep this amazing apartment, and the amazing fashion labels I have in my wardrobe, I have to work for it.”

“How does it work?” Hoseok asked. “You just go around seducing humans, then suck their souls and... file your report?”

“Basically, yes. But, I don’t do all that seducing anymore, not after I met you.” Hoseok’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t want to have sex with anyone else. So I had to find other ways to keep my job performance up.”

“So what do you do now?” It was Yoongi who spoke.

“Well, I don’t like being called a succubus because, honestly I’m much more than that. Since I don’t partake in any.... activities… anymore, now I’m more like a wicked cupid, if that makes sense?”

Hoseok pinched his nose. “It doesn’t; explain to me? To us?”

You took a deep breath. “Basically, I play matchmaker to cheaters. For example, I set  up a man cheating on his wife with a woman cheating on her husband. I do that a lot these days. It’s boring, and their souls are already corrupted, so they’re not valued as much as purer souls.” you pouted. “It’s a lot more work but it’s the only way to keep myself just for you.”

“So you just make people have sex with each other?” Hoseok asked.

“Yeah, I have to watch them do it,” you made a disgusted face. “It’s easiest to suck their souls out in the moments when they lose control, you know?”  

“So… you watch them?” Hoseok was embarrassed that he was more intrigued than disturbed. 

“Yes....” You narrowed your eyes at him, “... do you... want to watch too?”

Hoseok blushed at your question. “No, no, I don’t, of course not!” He paused for a second. “But, if I wanted to... I could?”

“OKAY!” Yoongi piped up before neither Hoseok nor you spoke. “So the gist of this conversation is that you” Yoongi pointed at you, “are a demon who doesn’t do all the demonic things anymore so that you can build a relationship with him. Correct?“  

You answered Yoongi with a nod, and Hoseok felt a squeeze around his heart; he felt happy that you were willing to make changes to be with him. His brain, however, kept sounding the alarm, screaming at him to step out of this abnormality. 

Hoseok excused himself, and then dragged Yoongi to your bathroom. 

“Hyung, this is crazy, right? I’m crazy that I still want to be with her right?” 

“Honestly, Hobi. If you want to be with her, be with her. If she wanted you soulless, or dead, she’d have done it a long time ago. You were so into her before finding out her true-self. And so far, I think she’s been upfront, as honest as she could.”

“You’re right,” Hoseok paced in the small space. “I do like her, a lot. And I don’t feel… threatened? Or scared? Like it’s a shock, but I’m surprisingly okay with all this.”

“Good, then. So you guys just need to work it out. Maybe ask her what her weakness is, you know? Every demon has that one weakness, right? It’ll be like an exchange of trust. You trust her not to take your soul, and she trusts you not to annihilate her.”

“Hyung, that can’t be healthy, to hold each other at gunpoint.” Hoseok chuckled nervously, but made a mental note to bring it up to you. “Hang on, why did she call you here?”

“I’m the most sensible of the seven of us.” Yoongi answered confidently. “Would you rather Jin Hyung be here screaming his heart out?”

Hoseok waved Yoongi off. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks for being here, Hyung.”

Yoongi opened the door. “I’m leaving now, You guys talk it out, okay?”

Hoseok stayed with you that night, asked you all the questions needed to be asked, and when the sun rose, you became his girlfriend.

“Hobi Hyung!” Jimin bellows from the door. “Noona is here!”

You follow him inside the apartment. Once you and Hoseok became official, he was only too excited to introduce you to his members. Your real identity is still a secret however, except to Yoongi. 

You linger in the kitchen, waiting for your boyfriend. “So, where are you guys going today?” Jimin asks.

“Just dinner, at that Japanese place he went to a few weeks ago. Then maybe some night shopping” 

“You know,” Jimin rubs his chin, “I don’t understand how Hyung does it. Whenever he’s out with you, no one, and I mean, no one is able to spot him.”

You shrug. “He disguises himself well behind his mask and hat.”

“Yeah right,” Jimin snickers as Hoseok comes out of his room. “You’re telling me no one recognises him in THAT? That screams J-Hope of BTS, Noona.”

You look over to where Jimin is pointing. Hoseok is wearing a bright blue jacket with a large FILA across the back. His beanie is maroon red, and his pants are moss green with colourful accessories and pins. His signature little bag is slung across his chest; today he has chosen yellow with rainbow flowers. He will probably wear his orange sneakers to complete the look.  

“Then I guess we’re just lucky, Chim.” You beam at Hoseok as he comes nearer. You are lucky indeed. 

“Ready?” He asks after giving you a kiss. You nod. “Don’t wait up for us, Jimin.”

Jimin eyes you playfully. “Not planning too, Hyung. Have fun!”

You and Hoseok walk hand-in-hand leaving his apartment and down to the parking lot. Once inside his car, he asks. “What were you talking about with Jimin, babe?”

“Oh you know,” you fasten your seatbelt. “He wonders why no one recognises you whenever we venture outside.”

Hoseok chuckles as he starts the engine. “Well, the last time anyone tried to take photos of us, their phones burst in flame and you sent them to have an orgy in a dingy bar.”

You cackle. “That was fun. And it helped me meet my target. I should do that again sometime soon.”

“Well, can we go on one date without you causing someone trauma?" Hoseok asks.

"Babe, I'm a demon. What do you expect me to do?" You retort. “If they don’t bother you, I won’t do anything to them, you know that.”

“I never thought I’d have a guardian demon.” Hoseok laughs heartily. “But I’m glad it’s you.”

You shoot him a sweet smile. “But you know, I do miss torturing a human. I miss their cries, their patheticness. How they promise me the world if only I would give them release. I miss that power.”

“Well,” your boyfriend clears his throat. “You can torture me. Like not that painful kind of torture. But you can make me cry and beg.”

You snap your head towards him. It takes all the power within you to tame the ferocious desires suddenly bubbling in you. “You’d do that? For me?”

“Of course, I want to make you happy.” He reaches out to squeeze your hand. “Just… don’t suck my soul.”

“Of course not. I would never.”

“Okay then. Should we just head to your place now?” Hoseok switches lanes, getting ready to make a u-turn.

“Yeah, fuck dinner. Let’s go home now.”

Hoseok thinks he has died and gone to heaven- or maybe, hell?- when you come out of your walk in wardrobe. You have put on the sexiest, the most tantalizing lingerie he has ever seen, and it has the same colour as his red suit, the one he wore in his concert that sent Army all over the world crazy. 

The teddy hugs your body in all the right places; the deep v-neck shows off your cleavage, the lace covering your breasts is cut so delicately, and hangs on a little string to keep everything together. Below the lace, however, is all see through. He can see your belly button, and the mark of Hell just below it. His eyes move further down, and he gulps. He could see your bare sex, already weeping.  The teddy is high cut too, baring your hips and making your legs look even longer. And when you turn, that sorry excuse of a fabric disappears between your ass cheeks only to reappear at your lower back, going up into a series of intricate web on your back. 

Then Hoseok looks at what you have in your hand. A red silk rope. He looks back up to you. You give him a wicked smile.

“What are you waiting for? Get undressed for me, Daddy.” You instruct him.

He immediately takes his clothes off, and you stop him before he removes his boxers. “Those are for me to take off.” You slyly tease, earning a grin from him.

“Get on the bed.” Hoseok obediently does as you ask. “Hands up.” You grab his wrists, and you bind them to the bed posts with your silk rope, tightly enough that he winces slightly. You then straddle him, raking your nails up and down his lean, hard torso. He writhes underneath you. You slide further down so that you rest directly above his now hard cock.

“Oh God,” Hoseok gasps as he feels your wetness through his boxers. You tut in disapproval, and lean down to nip and suck on his chest harshly.

“We don’t say that word in this house, Daddy. You should’ve known better.” You chastise him. You gently rub the purple mark you have just left on his chest. You lay our palm flat against his nipples, rubbing the stiff peaks.

“I’m sorry, babygirl,” he pants, “I won’t say it again.”

You bend down so your face hovers over Hoseok’s. You rub your nose against his, then your lips ghost over his mouth and along his jaw. You smile when you hear him whimper. 

“You trust me, don’t you?”

“I do, baby. I love you. Kiss me, please?”

You kiss him passionately,  the last act of intimacy before you start playing with him. You roll your hips, and you feel his body jerks slightly. You hold him down, as your mouth swallows his moans and your dripping core rubs against his hardness.

You sit back up, your hands back onto his chest, and your hips continue to roll. You watch him squirm underneath you. His hands are balled in tight fists, his arms flexing, showing the sinewy muscles. You trail a finger from the inside of his elbow, down the biceps, and to his shoulder and collarbone.

“You’re so fucking hot, Jung Hoseok. Remember that night we met? Once I got you here, I didn’t even want your soul anymore, I just wanted you to fuck me senseless.”

Your finger goes further down along his pec, and circles around his hard nipple. You flick it gently and Hoseok closes his eyes as he suppresses a moan. You raise your finger to his lips, prodding them open.  

“Suck.”

Hoseok envelops your digit immediately, pressing his tongue flat against it. His head starts bobbing, sucking your finger until he is drooling. You raise yourself up to your knees, and Hoseok groans at the loss of your wetness on his boxers. But then he moans around your finger as you slither up towards his chest. Your sex, covered in the most ridiculously see through material, is right in front of him. He can see clearly how you have soaked the fabric, your pussy lips swollen and ready for him to feast on. He looks up at you, eyes pleading. He is desperate for your taste.

You return his stare, and tilting your head, you pull your finger out of his mouth. Then you run it from the bottom of your neck, down to the valley between your breasts, and further south it goes. Hoseok whines at the wet trail of his saliva down your teddy, and when your finger slides over your covered pussy, he lets out a loud moan.

“Hmmm, what is it, Daddy?” You slide your finger back and forth, his saliva all but replaced by your own juices. “Do you want a taste?”

“Yes, yes please.” Hoseok can’t believe how whiny he sounds. He has never been on anyone’s mercy before. 

You pull the lingerie over your cunt aside, and you watch Hoseok’s eyes widen even more as you slip your wet finger inside you. He jerks forward, only to be held back by the restraints around his wrists. 

“Oh please… please…” he implores, “let me taste you please.”

You continue to finger yourself, ignoring his pleas. You push in another finger, and then another, throwing your head back at the stretch. He strains further against his restraints; his desperation could probably power him enough to rip the ropes off. 

The squelching sounds your fingers make are so loud in his ears.  “Please, please, baby, fuck let me taste you.” He beseeches you. “Please.”

You look down at your lover. You love how needy he is being for you. “Why Daddy? You’re not enjoying the show I’m putting on for you?”

He licks his lips and swallows hard. “I love it baby, I can smell you from here. I just want a taste, please let Daddy have a taste?”

Chuckling, you grab his hair, jerking his head back. Then you pull your fingers out and wipe them on his lips. He pokes his tongue out to desperately lick at the honey smeared around his mouth. You then shove your fingers in, and he immediately sucks on your digits, licking them clean. He closes his eyes and groans at the taste of you. You continue to rut yourself on his chest.

“Taste good, Daddy?” You stroke his hair. He nods meekly. “Do you want more?”

He mumbles his answer around your fingers. “Yes, yes please baby girl.”

You pull your fingers out, now drenched with his saliva. You raise yourself up and shuffle further up so that you’re right above his head. Your teddy is still pushed to the side, and you rub your fingers over your wet slit. 

“Shit baby, let me go, let me finger you, hmm?” 

“Shut up and enjoy the show.”  You plunge your fingers in again, and Hoseok’s moans at the sight drowns out yours. You start to fuck yourself, with your lover underneath watching you, praising you and encouraging you to cum. Just before you reach your peak however, you stop, and you remove your fingers. Wiping them on his mouth, he greedily laps at them again, savoring every drop of your taste you are offering him.

“Such a good Daddy,” you pur, “I haven’t cummed yet, do you want to make me cum with your tongue?”

Hoseok nods zealously. He shifts his body further so that he lies fully on his back, his head flat on your pillows. You can feel his hot breaths on your sex, ready to devour you. You lower yourself to his mouth, and his tongue immediately darts out at your opening, collecting all your leaking juices.  

“That’s right Daddy, drink me up.” You rock your hips above him, enjoying his wet organ exploring you. You reach down and pull back the skin above your pussy, revealing your throbbing clit. He moans and clamps his mouth over your nub. He alternates between sucking and flicking it, determined to bring you to orgasm. 

“Daddy, that feels so good,” you encourage him, grabbing a fistful of his hair again. “Make me cum with your tongue. Make me feel good, Daddy.”

Hoseok goes into overdrive. His body is tense, vibrating, he is focusing all his might to get you to your climax. And finally he is rewarded. He feels your core drip more as your thighs shake, and then you curse loudly, sending the lights in your room flickering. 

Once your heart beat returns to normal, you lie down next to him. Turning his head to face you, you kiss him slowly, savoring your taste on his lips. “Such a good Daddy,” you praise him, “making me cum so good.”

Hoseok beams at your praise. “Untie me, baby girl. I can make you feel even better.”

You tsk at him. “I want to make you suffer more.” Hoseok mewls. You pat his head and look at his bound hands. “Are your wrists hurting?”

He whines louder, mixed with laughter. “I just want to touch you. Please.”

“I like you tied up like this,” you trail your fingers up and down his chest. “I like having you helpless and completely under my control.”

Hoseok shudders all over. He has never felt this desperate before. He just wants to touch you, to pin you down and please you over and over. If only he could get out of the damn restraints. 

You can see the desperation in his eyes, and you decide to reward him. You pull down the straps of the teddy off your shoulders, and you smile sinfully as you peel the lace off your breasts, presenting them for his viewing pleasure, but definitely not for touching. Hoseok bites down on his lower lip. You lean over his torso, to reach your bedside table. In doing so, your breasts brush his chin, and he instantly mouths at whatever flesh he can reach, making you giggle.

You dig around the drawer of your bedside table, angling your chest to Hoseok’s mouth so that he can finally capture a nipple. Placing the perky tip between his teeth, he bites down on it to elicit a yelp out of you, before blowing at it and flicking it with his tongue. After grabbing an item from the drawer, you sit back up, and he cries as your nipple leaves his mouth. 

“See what I have Daddy.” You show him the item in your hand; it is a small bullet vibrator. You turn it on. The soft whirring fills Hoseok’s ears. 

“I didn't know you have toys.”

“Oh, I do.” You shuffle down to his crotch, “I just never need it when I’m with you. You always please me so well. But I think we can have a bit of fun tonight, hmm?”

You place the vibrator on his lower abdomen, just above his boxers. Then you peel the teddy off your body, slowly, giving him a striptease. Once naked, you bring the lingerie to his mouth, and he obediently sucks whatever arousal you have leaked onto the fabric. Satisfied, you then move back down and grab the waistband of his underwear, and you turn to look back at him. His eyes are closed, jaw clenching as the little tremors from the toy run through his body. You pull his boxers down slowly, and his red angry cock pops out and flops over the vibrator, making him groan aloud.

You take the vibrator and run it up and down his length, as you lean down to lick the precum off his tip. His body jerks violently, his hands pulling hard against the ropes. 

“Don’t break my bed posts.” You warn him, tapping the vibrator on his cock. “I’ll be very upset.”

“I can buy you a new one.” His breathing is erratic. “Shit, that feels so fucking good.”

“Hmm, does it? How about here?” You move the vibrator to his balls. He screams at once. You laugh mockingly at him. “Oh Daddy, did I almost make you cum?” Hoseok curses. 

You press the vibrator back on the base of his cock. “How much do you want to fuck me?”

“So so bad, please. Let me fuck you. Let me feel you on my cock. Please.”

“Will you give your soul to me, for exchange of a fuck?” You tease him.

Hoseok whimpers. “Take everything of me, I’m all yours.”

“Tsk tsk,” you tut. “Did you forget who I am, Daddy? You should never say that to a demon.”

“Not fair, not fair.” Hoseok is breathless. You move the vibrator closer to his balls again, and he sobs. “Ah, I want to cum in your cunt, please. Please.”

“You don’t want my mouth, Daddy?” You give his length a fat lick, while pressing the toy harder onto his testicles. His cock twitches and his body jerks. You see the muscles of his thighs tightening. “You’re not allowed to cum yet, Daddy!”

“I’m fucking trying not to!” Hoseok bellows. 

You laugh heartily. “All those times you edged me, this is payback.” You lick the head of his cock, and give it little sucks. He thrashes his head on the pillow.

“Please, please…” he begs again.

“Please what, Daddy?” You are stroking and licking his shaft lazily. 

“Suck me or ride me… fuck I don’t care! I just want to be in you, anywhere, please!”

You hum against his length as you move the vibrator to his inner thigh. His legs shake and he lets out a very loud, frustrated moan. You decide that you have teased him enough. Moreover, your sex is sopping wet and throbbing, completely ready for his cock.

Putting the vibrator aside, you straddle him. You both moan as your soaking center meets his hard length. You rock your hips back and fro, coating the whole of his length with your juices. You press down harder on him, sandwiching his cock between the lips of your pussy and his own abdomen. 

“Can you feel how wet I am, Daddy? You’re making me so wet.”

Hoseok is unable to reply. You see him biting his lip and closing his eyes so tightly, as if the action would help him stop from climaxing early. You reach down and grab his cock, all slippery and lubricated now. You position the head of his cock at your entrance, then you slowly sink onto him. You stop halfway however, and order him to open his eyes to look at you.

Holding his gaze, you slam your hips down until he fully impales you. He hisses loudly as your tightness envelops him. “So tight, ah fuck baby, you’re so fucking tight.”

You roll your hips as your inner walls continue to squeeze him, almost daring him to come. Then, getting your knees in position, you start riding him. You reach out for your vibrator and turn it back on. You pull back the skin over your clit, and you press the little device on your bud as you continue to bounce on Hoseok’s cock.

Hoseok curses- the feeling of your cunt contracting around his cock and the pulses from the toy is pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He is not sure if he can hold out much longer. You see his face scrunching up, a tell-tale sign that he is close. So you toss the vibrator aside and lean down towards him. Your hips falter a bit, their rhythm slowing down at the new position. 

You can hear how wet you are riding his cock. The sounds fill your ears, and combined with the smell of sex in the air, you start to get dizzy. The man underneath you is spewing filth and praises at the same time, heating your body further. Licking your lips, you close your hand around his neck, gently. His eyes widen, but he does not protest. You tighten your grip, and he sucks in a breath audibly. Your thumb grazes his adam apple, before you move up to his pulse point. Your mouth instantly waters at how fast it is pulsating; suddenly, the hunger for his pure soul is getting stronger within you.

Hoseok sees your eyes flash red for a moment, and he calls out your name. “Stay with me,” he whispers. “Baby. I trust you. Stay with me.”

His sweet voice brings you back, and you let go of his neck. Your breath is erratic now, and your hips pause. You shake your head to clear the red haze out of your mind. You look down at your boyfriend, and amidst the lust and the desperation, there is love oozing out for you. You take a deep breath, then placing your hands on his solid chest, you murmur, “Hoseok... Daddy, make me cum.”

Hoseok snaps at your request. He twists his wrists to grip the rope that binds him, and he plants his feet firmly on the bed. Then like a man possessed, he starts jackhammering up into you. You keep your body still above him, giving your body to him fully. You arch your back as his cock continues to bruise your hole, enjoying the sensation as he spears you over and over at a maddening pace. The pressure quickly builds in your core, your pussy clamping down on his member.

Hoseok’s hair is matted on his forehead. Sweat has broken all over his body, his muscles tensing as he feels you getting closer to your climax. He is nearing his peak too, and he wants to free fall with you.  “Baby… baby, please… can I cum?” 

“Yes, yes, Daddy, fill me with your cum.”

Hoseok snaps his hips faster, and he does not slow down when you finally climax. As the powerful orgasm sweeps through you, you let out a deafening shriek, and red flames engulf your body while your room is enveloped in an unearthly green glow with the shadows emerging, eager to be freed to feed on the lust that fills the air. Hoseok gasps at the sight, but he continues fucking you through your orgasm, until, at long last, he cums in your pussy, shooting his seeds deep into you as he screams your name.

You are brought back at the sound of your name. The fire immediately dies out, the green glow in your room subsides and the shadows disappear as you come down from your high. You can feel Hoseok’s cock throbbing inside you, his cum leaking out from your hole. Stilling your breathing, you reach for his bound hands to free them. His hands collapse onto the bed, his whole body now limp.

You take his hands, concerned in your face as you rub and kiss his wrists, all red from the restraints. “Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?”

Hoseok shakes his head, his eyes closed. His whole body is shiny and slick with sweat. “Fuck, that was out of this world.” He manages to say. His chest heaving up and down.

You smile wholeheartedly with relief and bend down to kiss him. “Let me run you a bath, hmm? I’ll give you a nice massage.”

Hoseok opens his eyes. “OK. It’s the least you can do, for almost eating me up alive.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve never cummed so hard before. I totally lost it.”

A tired but proud smile adorns his face. “You should tie me up more often then, you know, to practice your self-control.”

“I can’t agree more.” You kiss him again and again, apologizing between kisses and professing your love to him. The way his lips are melting against yours and how his tongue licks your mouth is stirring your desire again, but you know he will be too out of it. So reluctantly, you remove yourself and head to the bathroom to prepare the bath you have promised.

An hour later, you and Hoseok lie in bed, naked and fresh from your bath together. He spoons you, wrapping his arms tightly around your body. You fall asleep quickly, comfortable and secure in his embrace. When you stir awake at dawn however, those same arms are spreading and pinning your legs down, as his mouth is latched on your pussy.

“Hoseok...” you hoarsely call out his name. You look down to find his eyes staring back at you from between your legs. 

“Ah, Daddy, that feels good.. .” You sigh contentedly, surrendering yourself to your lover. He eats you out lazily, until he brings you to an orgasm, nothing as earth shattering as before, but delicious nonetheless. Hoseok then climbs up your body and kneels before you. You eagerly suck him until he pulls back, and then he flips you to get you on your hands and knees. He kisses your neck softly as he pushes himself into you.

“Why do you feel so fucking good?” He moans against your neck, enjoying the way your walls close around him. “What power have you got over me, baby girl?”

You gasp as he slowly pulls out before slamming back in. He threads his fingers in your hair and he pulls it to turn your head sideways so he can kiss you as he drags his cock in and out of you, rubbing that sweet spot inside. He keeps his rhythm slow but with purpose, and before long, you both climax together, then collapsing onto the bed.

The sun breaks into your bedroom as you relax in bed, basking in your post-orgasm haze. Hoseok remains on top of you, his heart beating out of his chest against your back. You wriggle to turn around so you can wrap your arms around him, protesting when he is trying to move, telling him that you love the feel of his weight on top of you. 

You stroke his hair, and you feel your chest tightens as he nuzzles your neck.

“Hoseok, thank you for staying with me.” You surprise yourself as you hear your voice breaks. “I know it has not been easy at all.”

Hoseok leans up and looks lovingly at you, his thumb wiping a tear that has escaped your eye. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, baby. Demon or not, you’re mine and I’m yours.”

Happy birthday Hobi 💜

Published 18022021

[feliix]

Mine ✦ JHS (18+)

✦  Pairing: Werewolf!Hoseok x Reader ✦ Word count: 3.6k ✦  Rating: M  

✦  Genre: smut, fluff, established relationship!au, werewolf!au

✦  Summary: It’s your boyfriend Hoseok’s first time in heat, and as much as you’ve prepared yourself for this moment you’d never expect it to go like this.

✦  Warnings: explicit smut, heat sex, unprotected sex, fingering, dom!hoseok, oral: female receiving, dirty talk, rough sex, impregnation kink, breeding kink, hobi is possessive af, knotting, creampie, marking, blood play, praise kink, aftercare,

✦ Requested by this anon ‘Hoseok x reader werewolf alpha heat with human mate? First time experiencing his heat and his knot?’ this anon: ‘May I request for the drinks and Drabbles, Hobi + cocktail. (Lmfao this is gonna be a lot, you don’t need to do all, whatever you feel inspired by {love you}; dom Hobi, spanking, creampie, fingering, toys, pet names)’ and sweet beanie @jintobean​‘ahem. pls might i order some hot coco hoseok it can have some nsfw idc i just need my heart to burst pls and thank’

✦  A/N: another episode of i try to write a drabble but it turns into a oneshot :)))) tagging my bby @hobiance​ for the much needed encouragement and werewolf hobi love♡ also this is my first actual werewolf smut please be nice and beta read by the wonderful, amazing and life saving @ally-127​

✦ Written for the BHQ Drinks and Drabbles game hosted by @bangtan-dreamland​ 

read part two here 

You had no idea what you were anticipating as you got home from work today. Before you had left Hobi was acting stranger than normal. His temper was short, his motions were labored, and he wasn't himself. It didn’t take long for you to realize something was wrong, and before you had even gone on lunch you received a text from your boyfriend.

Hobi: I don’t want you to be alarmed, but I think I’m in heat

There was no time to think about the next course of action, it was clear what you had to do. The next thing you knew you were in your bosses office, telling her that you were beginning to feel ill and that you’d be taking the rest of the day off.

He could smell that you were home before you had even walked through your front door. Hobi’s senses were mad, higher than he had ever experienced before. 

To put it lightly, you were worried. You had never experienced a werewolf in heat before, only heard about it from the older boys and their girlfriends in passing. But now there was no time to ask questions. Hobi was in heat and you’d have to figure it out together.

Muffled moans traveled throughout the apartment as Hobi ached in pain in your bedroom. Concern immediately flooded your system, not knowing if you should rush over to check on him or take things slow. The groaning only gets louder as you approach the bedroom door, pressing your ear up to the door to try and make out the slur of words coming from his mouth.

“Y/N?” He nearly cries as he senses your presence, the smell of you awakening senses he didn’t even know he had. 

Slowly, you turn the handle of the door to reveal yourself to him.

He’s in pain, lying in a pool of his own sweat as a dewy sheen glistens over his body. The only thing covering him is a pair of cotton underwear. They were the only thing soft and breathable enough that he could stand to have on his body, unlike the other clothes torn into shreds that he ripped off earlier. Hopefully he can hold back from treating yours in the same way – you really like the blouse you have on today.

As you see him curled up on the bed you can’t help but become worried for his current state. His face is scrunched in agony, soft groans leaving his lips between each labored breath. Slowly, you make your way over to him, careful not to move too quickly and startle his instincts.

You can only imagine the pain he's gone through over the past few hours. Knowing he's broken every bone in his body to turn, over and over again. Finally that part was over for now, but the everlasting ache of his muscles is still no match for his oncoming heat.

“It hurts,” he moans as his arms cup his sides roughly, rocking back and forth in attempts to relieve some of the pain. You can feel the heat radiating off his body from a foot away.

Instinctively, your hand reaches out to stroke his arm, the hairs standing up as his body shivers in a cold sweat. And then you notice it. The way his nostrils flare and exhale thickly as his eyes begin to glow an amber and gold hue. Your touch comforted him yet riled him up all at once, his wolf wholly and completely awake now that your skin was on his.

His eyes lock on you intently, a deep message hidden behind in his stare – almost like he was going to swallow you whole. You know what he needed. By the bulge in his pants to the look in his eyes you can tell it's you he wants – the only thing he needs at this moment, and you are ready for it.

You already know what you were getting yourself into when you began dating a wolf. It was only a matter of time before your sex life did a 180, and no, you weren’t entirely sure what to expect but today was the day that you’d finally understand what this was all about.

Like a second wind had taken over him, Hobi sits up in the bed, his posture firm and his muscles straining as he holds himself from grabbing you by the waist and mounting you at that moment. He’s waiting for reassurance from you, holding onto every ounce of strength he has before moving an inch.

And so you reach out to him again, bending at the waist as you place your arms on his shoulders, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. “I’m ready,” is all you have to say for him to know, and then he’s scooping you up with his supernatural strength to lay you on the bed.

Without missing a beat, Hobi’s fingers are looping through the sides of your underwear and ripping them down your legs. Surprisingly, you are a lot less nervous than you had expected to be. Maybe because you know how much pain he is in from holding himself back, and all you want is to finally satisfy his wolf that has been eating away at him for so long.

Your sweet scent fills his nostrils as he moves closer to your cunt. Closing his eyes, he basks in your scent – your scent overtaking him stronger than ever before. With deep inhale, he nestles his nose against your core, admiring the way you smelled before extending his tongue to lap at your slit. Immediately, your body jerks in reaction to his touch, the sensitivity of your clit being tested by his quick and frivolous motions.

“Tastes so good,” he mumbles against your inner thigh, making your body jerk at the vibration of his lips. His ministrations are much more impactful than before; this time he's hungry for it, dying to satisfy an itch that was nearly impossible to scratch.

Soon his hands are prying your legs as far apart as they could go, shoving his face into your center and devouring any juices that slipped past your entrance. Even though you had done this a hundred times, it felt different. He was driven by hunger, his actions quick and frivolous to ready you for his length. It was different but it was intentional; his sole purpose backing each and every flick of his tongue.

Moans pass his lips as they wrap around your clit, sucking harshly. Involuntarily your hips buck towards him, unable to control your own actions from the pleasure his mouth is bringing you. You can tell that he likes it by the way his arms wrap around your thighs, holding you down as his tongue flicks past your entrance and into your velvety walls.

A string of curses leave your lips as your body is rendered immobile, unable to move from the way he’s holding your legs to the bed. He’s ravenous – his nose pressing roughly into your clit as his tongue explores your sex. As much as he wants to be gentle he can’t; his wolf sending each of his senses into overdrive with each drip of arousal that lands on his tongue.

He’s moving so quickly that you can’t subdue your quickly approaching high. Any tug at his hair only makes him move faster, bringing you closer and closer to ecstasy at an alarming rate.

“Hobi,” you cry out, “I’m gonna cum if you keep at it like that.”

He doesn’t respond to you with words, only squeezes your thighs to acknowledge you. He’s too busy devouring your pussy to come up for air. Your words only make him move faster and more desperately, your high coming to a peak as he flattens his tongue across your slit. You take a quick glimpse of his amber eyes before he squeezes them shut, feverishly indulging in your release, licking it up as if his life depended on it.

By now a layer of perspiration has coated your body, the silky fabric of your blouse sticking to your skin. But Hobi isn’t done – things are just getting started.

Retreating from his spot between your legs, he sits back on his heels, wiping any left over arousal coating his chin with the back of his hand. He’s still hungry – the squint of his eyes and the determined look on his face told you so. Heat coursed through your veins as you waited for him to make his next move. He was trying to be patient, trying to let you recover for a moment before he got back to business, but you knew what he wanted.

In the interest of time you remove your own shirt, sitting up on the bed to throw the garment to the side and unclip your bra. His hungry eyes take in your nude figure as he moves forward to push you back onto the mattress. Your body relaxes as his lips connect to a sweet spot on your neck, sucking on it harshly, sure to leave a mark for tomorrow.

You arch your back in response as his lips begin to trail down your chest. A line of wet kisses is left behind as he makes his way down to one of your breasts, taking it in his mouth and circling the sensitive bud with his tongue. His teeth brush gently across your nipple, the sensation of his growing canines scraping against it breaking goosebumps against your skin.

Every day since he first turned has been leading up to this moment. Waiting out each passing moment for a sign of carnal instincts to over take him. Over the past few days you’d just brushed off his overly clingy demeanor, assuming it was just him growing into himself as a wolf. His suspicious and on-edge behavior went completely overlooked. You didn’t expect Hobi’s first heat to come on so soon after turning, but alas, here you were.

Hobi’s hands grab a hold of your hips, flipping you over so that you're laying with your chest pushed flush against the mattress, legs bent and the knees with your ass on full display. Your smell consumes him; all that he can think about is the taste of your arousal on his lips and how badly he needs to be inside you now.

His long digits trace your slit as arousal floods from your entrance, coating your slick on his fingertips. Anticipation pangs at your chest as you wait for his next move. You can only imagine the restraint he is holding onto at this moment. Everything in him wants to drive his hardened member into you, but he knows that your human body is not meant to handle what is coming for you.

Hobi’s eye’s screw shut as he brings a finger up to his mouth, basking in the taste of you. A wanton moan erupts from his lips at the taste – so perfectly sweet he would never be able to get enough.

Dire thoughts rush through your mind as you rest on your elbows, face turned to the side to try and see Hobi out of your peripheral vision. His pupils are completely blown, eyes focused only on your center as his chest heaves in anticipation. He’s sizing you up, wondering if you’d be able to accommodate his new size. It worries him deeply, he doesn’t want to hurt you, but he knew once he started he wouldn’t be able to control himself like he normally could. You needed to do something, say something to help settle the internal warfare consuming his mind.

“I’m ready, Hoseok.”

His hand is quick to line himself up with your entrance, grasping onto your hips with such pressure that it is sure to leave bruises tomorrow. Sharp fingernails dig into your skin as his tip meets your entrance. It’s fiery and red, inflamed from how hard he is. The precum that leaks from his tip coats your slit, combining with the wetness dripping down your thighs to create a delicious mixture.

One last reassuring squeeze of your side is all he gives before pushing into you ruggedly. A sharp gasp leaves your lips as he makes his way into your core, surprised at this new sensation. His size is bigger than you’d ever taken before, so much thicker and longer than his normal length. It’s a lot to take in at once, and he’s trying his best to let you relax as your body adjusts to his size.

“You can move,” you say, lip caught between your teeth as your walls stretch further around him.

With your fists grasping for the sheets, Hobi begins thrusting his hips slowly  into you– holding out a second each time he bottoms out to let you breathe. His nails only dig into your sides further, the only thing giving him a grip onto reality to hold back his animalistic instincts.

Deep grunts leave his mouth as he tries to hold himself back, but he can feel his humanity slipping further and further away with each clench of your pussy.

“Can’t hold back much longer,” he bares his teeth, canines prominent in his bite, “need to breed you now.”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as his words meet your ears. 

You’d never had serious baby talk before let alone tried for one. It was his primal instincts talking, you were sure of it. But even if it wasn't there was no turning back now. He was losing control and he was losing it quickly.

Quickly, his hips snap into yours, his muscles flexing as he holds your body steady, fucking into you deeply. Breath is sucked out of you as his pace increases; stars forming at the back of your eyelids as you squeeze them shut, mouth salivating at the increasing pleasure bestowing upon you. His length is a lot to get used to, but the everlasting pressure against your g-spot was making the pain melt away.

Hobi thrusts in and out of your effortlessly, your abundance of arousal coating his cock and making it easy for him to slide in and out of your velvety walls. With each thrust he bottoms out, and it becomes difficult for you to remain upright. Limbs shaking from pleasure, your elbows begin to give way, landing you flat against the mattress.

Your mouth opens, but the only thing able to escape is a silent scream, too immersed in the feeling of him battering your walls to make a sound. A loud leaves you lips as he pulls you back up, his arms wrapping around your waist to use all his strength to hold you in position. His chest is pressed flush against your back, the heat radiating off his body soothing you as his mouth meets your ear. A quick nip is placed on your earlobe as he catches it between his canines. It doesn’t hurt like you’d expect it too, or maybe you’re too caught up in his throbbing shaft plunging into you to notice if it does.

“Taking me so well.”

His praise quickly soothes your nerves, helping you relax into him as he holds your body close, closer than you had ever felt to him before. His tip is repeatedly hitting against the sensitive spot deep inside of you, you know he’s not ready to let up just yet, but you’re too on edge to hold on.

“Hobi I-I’m gonna–”

“I can smell it,” he groans, mouth meeting your neck as he sucks harshly on it. You can feel his canines scraping against your soft skin, itching to break the flesh and claim you. It’s what he’d always wanted – having you here like this just makes it all the more enticing.

A string of cuss words fall from your lips as your eyes clamp shut, relishing in your release as your pussy spasms around his cock. His movements don’t slow either – his pace is still erratic, plummeting into you at an ungodly rate.

Feeling your release over him only makes him thrust harder, deeper. It sends him into a full blown frenzy, unable to keep himself from chasing his high. “Smells so sweet, need to make you mine.”

You knew what this means. You knew you already were his, just not in that way yet. He was holding onto every last ounce of strength to stop himself from biting, from sinking his teeth into your precious skin and claiming you as his mate. It was painful for him to keep at it like this, and you didn’t have any second thoughts before saying it.

“Do it, Hoseok,” the words slip between cries, still shaking in the aftermath of your orgasm, “claim me.”

So he does.

His eyes slam shut as his mouth finds the crook of your neck, breaking the flesh as his canines sink into your skin. Screams blow past your lips as blood begins to trickle from the wound on your shoulder. Your chest tightens in pain, praying for the awful sensation to but cut short and pleasure to take over. Relief takes over once his tongue meets the small incisions made on your skin, his saliva filling the holes and alleviating the wounds as he licks up the blood.

“Mine.”

Your heart flutters at his claim, having never felt as close to him than you do right now. Firecrackers lit through your veins, the connection between you and Hoseok binding to eternity and you couldn’t be happier. It felt like you were floating on thin air. Your body is unable to focus on any pain right now, you’re too blissed out from the shock of him claiming you to notice how his cock is beginning to swell inside of you.

Cum shoots out of his member, filling you up to the brim until your abdomen begins to feel heavy and swell. That floating feeling quickly begins to fade as his orgasm keeps coming and coming, no inch of your insides gone untouched by his seed. It seems like it's never going to end, and you can feel the pressure from his release building and building inside of you. Your sensitive walls stretch as his cock expands; knotting to plug you up and make sure none of his cum drips out.

“Hobi,” you whine, tears spilling from your eyes as his cock continues to inflate inside of you, “Hobi it hurts.”

“Its almost over baby,” he comforts you, stroking your hair before guiding you onto your side, laying behind you. After such a rough round, his familiar touch eases your pain. The light kisses he places along your spine lets you sink back into him, focusing on the feeling of his soft lips instead of the balloon sized cock stretching your vagina. Gentle hands trace circles up and down your arms as you listen to the sound of his calming breath. His chest heaves as he tries to come down from the adrenaline rush.

Soft kisses soon turn into small licks running over the length of your back as you lay there, still speared on his cock. Now that his animalistic needs were met, it was all about you.

“What are you doing?”

“Cleaning you up,” he answers calmly, his lupine senses finding nothing strange with this new method of aftercare. You’re too immersed in your thoughts to question him any further; if this is what his wolf was telling him to do then so be it.

As Hobi’s knot begins to subdue he doesn’t let go. His tongue soothes over the spot of his mark, now forming into a dark scar to let everyone know you were his. Its crazy how just one bite felt like it could change the entire dynamic of your relationship. You were his now, and he was yours. Forever.

“Hobi?”

“Mmm,” he mumbles, refraining from letting his mouth leave your skin.

“Did you mean that thing you said,” your lip worries between your teeth before you can finish your question, wondering if he even remembers anything that happened or if his wolf took everything over.

“What thing?”

“The thing about breeding me?” Your eyes slam shut to brace yourself from the answer.

“Yes,” he sighs out nonchalantly, like he isn’t admitting that his intentions were to get you pregnant.

“Yes?”

“You’re my mate, Y/N,” he presses a chaste kiss between your shoulder blades before pulling out. A small whimper leaves your lips at the loss of contact, not sure if you were relieved that he was no longer inside you or not. “Of course I want you to have my pups.”

Butterflies flutter in your tummy as a smile stretches across your face. All you want to do right now is to turn around and kiss him, so you do. His face is just as bright as yours when you meet his eyes. His hair is messy and his skin is shining with perspiration, but he looks beautiful. He welcomes your kiss like he’s been waiting for it all day. Mouth chasing after your lips, capturing them in a quick kiss before pulling away.

It's the first time he’s seen your eyes since you’ve gotten home, and even then he couldn’t appreciate them like he could now. There's a different glow that he didn’t notice before. Maybe it's because he’s bound to you now, willing to do anything and everything for you.

“I love you,” you sigh, pressing your palm to his cheek. He looks so innocent now, the amber in his eyes now faded back to the chocolatey brown color you love so much.

“And I love that you’re mine.”

‘Mine’ is copyright 2020 @parksfilter​, all rights reserved. Please do not repost on any platform or translate without permission.

[rhabakoli]

Reunion

this has been in my WIP folder for like, 84 years... 

Also, that stupid chicken wing song was stuck in my head during half of the writing process. I wanted to die. 

This is the reunion kinda scene from the very beginning of chapter 24 of Beutiful and Damned by @dreamwritesimagines​  It’s smut, so like, stay safe and sane y’all. 

Enjoy.

The moment the door opened was the very same moment Geralt found himself a princess. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms around is neck, her lips found his; she barrelled into him, her trust in his abilities to catch her absolute. 

He huffed in surprise and pushed the door closed to press her up against it. “I missed you so much.” Her voice was low, almost demure, but her hands definitely weren’t. She clawed at his shoulders, brushed them over his chest, tangled her fingers in his hair to pull him in. Geralt would be lying if he said her sudden boldness and forwardness wasn’t welcome, but it was certainly surprising and slightly confusing. “Princess, are you alright?” 

“Not until I’ve had one or two orgasms, Geralt.” She looked at him, face as innocent as possible. “Will you deny me?” She was actively trying to kill him then, alright. He groaned, his lips finding hers once again. “As if I ever could, princess.” He pressed closer, his torso flush against her, his hands smoothing down her sides, then gripping her ass. She was wrapped in a thin camisole, and nothing more, and it absolutely killed him. She was so precious, so sweet, so adorably sexy – He groaned, shoved the fabric out of his way to get his hands on her skin. “Fuck, princess.” She sighed against his lips, smile on her pretty face. “I really, really missed you, Geralt.” He bumped his nose against hers, his voice rough: “I missed you too, princess.” She arched her back, squeezed her thighs around his middle and giggled. “Are you going to take care of me now?” How she looked so innocent saying such meaningful things while she was most definitely able to bring him to the brink of an orgasm with just a couple moans and sighs… Unbelievable. “If you let me.” And in the breathiest, most seductive voice, she answered: “Please.” Geralt felt his restrain crumble. As usual, around her. He cupped the back of her head and his eyes almost rolled back into his head as her scent reached his nose. Something animalistic awoke inside his chest, and he had to fulfil her wish, lest he’d die right there on the spot. She could feel his chest expand as he took a breath, and then she could almost pinpoint the moment his control slipped. The effect was instant. His kiss was searing, hot, desperate, almost as desperate as she felt. It made her hips roll, made her thighs quiver with the force she used to press herself against Geralt’s rigid body. Her cunt clenched in anticipation, her mind filled with nothing but his name, “Please” and “More”. He devoured her, bit her lip and pulled, the tiniest, lowest rumble making itself heard. She wasn’t even sure he was aware of the noises he made. “Geralt, please, give me something, please.” “As you wish, princess.” He shifted his hold on her, his fingers trailing down her bum, before he found her slit. “Oh, princess.” She moaned at the soft-gravely sound of his voice. He sounded about at wrecked and needy as she felt. “You’re drenched already, fuck.” He gathered some of her wetness on his fingers and brought them to his mouth, licking them, tasting her. She watched him, head thrown back against the door, eyes half closed and mouth hanging open, her breaths coming in pants. Seeing his reaction to her taste, how his nostrils flared, how he licked his lips and rolled his eyes back, the appreciative groan – she whimpered, her hand curling in the fabric of his shirt. His eyes were aflame, the gold piercing through her; there was a carnal hunger inside them. Geralt didn’t hesitate any longer then; he ripped open his belt, unbuttoned his breeches one handed, and was inside her in seconds. The first thrust was almost painful, made her feel like he was pushing all the air out of her lungs – it had been a while and Geralt was a beast – but she loved it. One hand curled around the back of his neck, her nails probably leaving marks for everyone to see, the other fisted in her own hair, as she tried to keep in control of her voice, lest the guards patrolling the halls would hear. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, princess.” Geralt bent forward, curled into himself, rested his forehead against her chest, his hands wrapped around her hips now, holding her still. “Geralt, love, please.” He just nodded before he curled an arm around her to press her close, hooked his fingers into her nightshift to pull it down and lay her bare. Her nipples were stiff, sensitive; just his breath on them made her clench around him. He sighed her name, then latched onto one and simultaneously started to pull out. They were quick to find a rhythm, almost as if they’d never parted. He’d been so stupid. So incredibly thick-headed, to give this up because he was afraid to lose her, to hurt her. In pulling away he’d already managed to do just that, but he could feel their wounds mending now that they found their way to each other and poured their love into every touch, every word, every breath upon the others skin. It didn’t take long for her to come, clenching hard around him, as if she never wanted to let go again. Her back arched, her naked breast rubbed against his clothed chest, the friction giving another layer of pleasure to her orgasm. He held her, slowly fucked her through it, tiny motions, almost non-existent. He kissed her neck, her jaw, bit her earlobe and then started talking. She was sure she would start crying if he continued to assault her like that. His voice was so soft and low, it felt like she was wrapped in velvet and silk at the same time. “You are so beautiful, my princess. You’re beautiful and smart, and incredibly strong. I am so proud of you. You are everything to me. The best thing that ever happened to me. You make me feel loved and at home. Let me stay with you forever. I love you, princess.” Tears sprung to her eyes; her orgasm seemingly never-ending with the continued influx of sensations. She cried his name, shivers wracking her body, her nails cutting his skin where she held onto his arms. He hummed, pressed his face to her neck and took deep breaths. The scent of her arousal, her own fragrance, her soap; it all drove him crazy and at the same time calmed his senses, calmed his heart. It smelled like home, like happiness, like his future. Geralt waited until she relaxed, then he pushed away from the door and walked over to her bed. She whined at the movement but sighed when he went back to covering her neck and shoulders in kisses and bites. When her back touched the crisp sheets, she let go of her man and stretched, her eyes never leaving his. He was so imposing, gigantic. He was safe. He was home. Geralt knelt between her legs, ran his hands up and down her thighs and just admired her. There was a blissed smile on her face, a healthy flush spread down to her breasts, her nipples tight and calling out to him. Her neck was mottled with red spots already, her shoulders starting to look alike. “Geralt.” She watched him from beneath heavy lids and reached for him, wriggled her fingers at him. When he leaned forward until she could cup his cheek, her smile grew wider. “Geralt.” Her thumb brushed along his cheekbone and he thought he was going to melt. And then he thought he’d died and ascended to heaven, because she licked her lips, raised her head just the tiniest bit and whispered: “Fuck me like you mean it, Geralt.” He was so dumbfounded by her words, he didn’t move or react for a couple seconds. Her giggles snapped him out of it, and he smirked. “As you wish, princess. “ He scooted back, kissed her knees and then proceeded to flip her over fast enough to make her get whiplash. She bounced a little bit on the bed, and then his body was pressed along her back, hard lines against soft skin, his lips next to her ear, his dick pressing against her ass in the most teasing, heady way possible. Geralt rubbed himself against her, her soft skin a delight. “Do you know how hard it was to old back all the time?” He gathered her hair in one hand, his other hand buried in the sheets, muscles straining. Carefully, he pulled. “Do you know how often I wanted to simply throw you over my shoulder and take you away? Or bend you over some sideboard in the hallways and fuck you senseless, until you scream my name loud enough to make everyone know you’re mine?” She was panting, her heart racing. He liked her like this, all pliant and putty in his hands. “Do you know how much I missed your juices on my dick? How you feel when you get especially excited? How you start to drip, just from my words?” He let go of her hair and sat up, got comfortable between her legs. He teased her clit, rubbed his entire length through her folds and chuckled at her needy moans. “You like that, don’t you. I missed how you sound when you’re desperate, princess.” He let the head of his cock slip into her, barely enough to breach her, but certainly enough to have her press back. “You look so good like this, princess. I love to see you all pliant and fucked out. I know I’m the only one to get to see you like this, I know you’re mine as much as I am yours.” He caged her in once more, his arms to her sides. She sighed at the feeling of him shielding her like that, and at the way he teased her opening like that. There were three words filling her entire conscience at this point: Safe, Home, Mine. “I will show you how I am the only one to ever make you feel this good, princess. No other man can stretch you like this, ever.” He finally, finally, pressed in; one harsh thrust followed another. He didn’t start slow, no. He fucked her like he meant it, like she’d asked of him. And she LOVED it. Her hands were fisted in the sheets, holding on for dear life. She felt as if her brain leaked out of her ears; she was lost in desire and lust and pleasure. She’d forgotten how it felt to be desired, loved, cherished. “Geralt, fuck, please.” He shifted, his hips not losing rhythm, when he ducked to bring his lips against her ear: “What do you need, princess?” “More.” He grunted, moved his legs, and pulled her up. Her mouth fell open in a silent curse as she suddenly found herself in Geralts lap, her legs spread, held open by his. One hand came up to cup her breast, the other held her hip as he fucked up into her wet heat. Her head fell back against his shoulder, her neck stretched and presented beautifully. Oh, how great she’d look marked up, so everyone would know she’s taken, satisfied; that he was the one to bed her, to taste her all over. Geralt could feel the possessive growl in his chest built, could feel himself losing control. “Geralt.” A soft hand on his cheek snapped him out of it, brought his attention back to her face. “It’s okay. Let go.” “But-“ “You won’t hurt me.” She rolled her hips, clenched around him. “Please.” “Fuck.” He complied, wrapped both his hands around her waist and started fucking into her without restraint. She felt so good, so ready for him, so wet. He really thought he was going crazy. “Princess, oh fuck.” His voice in her ear made her break out in goosebumps, and she was fairly sure they’d be heard outside. Did she care? Not at all. Let them hear. Let them know, how was she supposed to care when he was inside her, loving her like he did? So intense, so honest, so real.   “Geralt, please.” He laughed, barely registered how unhinged it sounded with all the pleasure and want clouding his mind. All he wanted was to make her feel good, make her scream his name, fill her mind and body and never let go. The fast slapping of skin on skin mixed with the panting breath of them both, with the moans and cries of pleasure, the curses, the pleads. It was a cacophony of love and desire, of lust. It was lewd. Her wetness was gathering between them. She was glistening with it and he wanted to eat her up. She whined, his name on her lips like a prayer. “Please.” Her fingers were clawing up his arm, looking for purchase when he reacted with a snarl and a smack to her thigh. “Cum for me, princess, I know you want to.” He helped her along by finding her clit, playing with it, rubbing and occasionally pinching. She bucked in his arms, her voice that of a songbird. It was intoxicating and he never wanted it to end. But it had to. He wanted her to hit her high, to come around him, for him. “Princess”, he groaned into her ear. Shivers ran down her back, lightning and ice and molten gold. When she clenched, a curse escaped him; he wasn’t far behind at all. Just a couple more thrusts as he held her up, and he unloaded inside her, her moans filling his ears as he filled her with his seed. He stilled, curled is arms around her form; he’d never let her go. His princess caressed his arm, let her fingers roam up and down and play with his arm hair. “Hmmm, that was very nice.” She grinned at his nonverbal grunt, snuggled into his warmth. He was still inside her, and they were making a mess on her bed, but neither cared. She was basking in their comfortable bubble, until Geralt shifted and kissed behind her ear, just to say: “I’ll make you come on my tongue later, princess.”

[anakinsbubbletea]

Lovers Across the Stars

A short and sweet anidala piece that i wrote spontaneously while listening to angsty music.  Enjoy!  (minor warning for nsfw, but nothing too bad at all)

Starry curtains draped the balcony in milky indigo, matching the sky resting atop a busy sparkling city.  Padme traced the tallest of the buildings with her soft gaze, slowly twisting strands of her greasily oiled hair in her fingers.  Dressed in a simple periwinkle nightgown, she rested lazily on the very edge of the unrailed balcony, perhaps testing fate in a calm stalemate.  Yet as her thoughts mirrored the slowly twinkling stars, her heart was fluttering and swimming with all the creatures in the Naboo ocean.  Thinking of her homeland only made her long more for the same comfort, the same warmth that lonely nights in Coruscant just couldn’t quite deliver.  

Soon, though, it’d all be okay.  Soon, she’d sink into the arms of whom she loved most, a feeling which she couldn’t compare to anything in the world lest it be devalued.  Soon Padme would be reunited with her beloved Anakin Skywalker, but not yet.  Not quite yet. 

Her heart waited in the same vein as the restless hover speeders below, rushing to get from place to place, crisscrossing in endless layers almost low enough to touch the underworld.  Minutes passed like hours in the courtroom, days in meetings, nights in a cold bed.  

But they passed, creeping like they were vines wrapping around the columns guarding Padme's grand apartment balcony.  And finally, while her eyes were glassed over tracing the patterns woven through the columns, the sound of a rowdy loud speeder tore her gaze away.  

She was immediately blinded by the headlights but in a swift elegant motion she rose and dashed.  “Anakin.”

“Padme.”

In a breath she was wrapped wordlessly in an embrace.  His embrace.

Love, need, desperation, hunger… 

Before Padme’s vision even cleared her soft lips were met with a rough and demanding kiss, deeper and deeper plunging farther into her soul.  Her ears were ringing and her arms were shaking, only her heart was truly calm.  It was loved.  It was held.  It was full.

Their mouths moved in an instinctive rhythm, swirling and dancing like they’d done a million times.  Padme was now completely sunken into the Jedi knight’s embrace, unable to support herself even if she wanted to.  But he held her with the strength that he would the world, tenderly and thoughtfully, hands roaming and searching and caressing.  They were lost, that being the only way to describe it; in the galaxies above and an ocean of softly draped fabric and skin below.  

“No time for words?” came out from the Anakin’s lips between kisses, nothing more than a sultry hushed whisper that sent endless shivers down the senator’s spine.  He began trailing down her jaw, ever so slightly becoming more gentle than vigorous but no less passionate.  They dotted her neck and soft flesh evoking gasps, that were the sweetest melody imaginable to Anakin’s lips.  

Between breathless gasps Padme sighed, “Like you gave me a choice,” gasp, “Ani.”  

Her teasing tone must have set off a flame of desire deep inside of Anakin because his pace quickened as he left more marks down his wife’s neck.  She was seeing stars and not just from the lights above, letting out louder moans that satisfied him.  They were intertwined as tight as could be, heat rising and rising instead of slowly being quelled like it usually would.

The time they’d spent apart was much greater than that of the last few.  General Skywalker was unexpectedly summoned to a supposed sighting of a sith apprentice- spoiler alert, he survived.  But it didn’t go exactly… as planned.

But all of those thoughts washed away now, quite literally shoved out of his mind and replaced with the single feeling of need.  With the burning hunger of wanting to be with his wife, in the most intimate way possible.  The carnal desire that lit him aflame.

Where the usual softness resisted his urges once was, it was no longer.  He’d been waiting for weeks, and he wouldn’t wait any longer.

As for Padme, it was the same.  It had been so long since she’d felt this desired, this wanted- she craved to be his once again, and forever..  Melting into a galaxy of passion and heat… nothing could stop the chemistry as Anakin's bites trailed down to her exposed collarbone and shoulder.  She tasted better than he’d dreamed, like flowers and honey and everything warm.  The way she gripped his waist with every ounce of her strength drove him insane.  

Reluctantly he moved his mouth back to hers, exploring her tongue as she did the same.  Searching, hunting- 

Padme’s arms raised to his neck, gripping him harshly enough to hurt him if he wanted it to.  She swung so that her back faced the curtains hiding the entrance to the bedroom, her weight causing Anakin to stumble forward and follow.  Without breaking the elegant kiss they not-so-elegantly made their way into the dimly lit room.  Doors swung open carelessly and furniture knocked over.  There was something so scandalously romantic about the entire capital city watching through sheer curtains as they undressed, breaking the kiss only momentarily whilst slipping off clothing piece by piece.  A periwinkle pool rested at Padme’s feet and soon a pile of burgundy robes accompanied it.  

There they were, two lovers basked in shallow purple moonlight.  It was only then that they broke touch, Anakin only a foot from the bed.  In a moment of softened silence they simply considered one another, soaking in each other’s body whilst standing a heartbeat away.  Padme and Anakin’s eyes simultaneously drifted shamelessly up the other, gently examining.  For, they only belonged to each other.  None, but the other.  

Their gaze eventually locked, pouring into each other’s eyes with millions of stories and emotions and words that could never be said even in a lifetime.  

And for a minute, it was as though someone turned the world to glass.  The fires growing in each of them turned to ice, just for a minute. 

Only a minute. 

And once that was broken, there was nothing but unbridled passion.  

The passion between two that were starved for the others touch, 

and incapable of holding so much lust in one heart.  

The fire fanned only by the very wind that sought to kill it, 

A flame held gently in the palms of lovers across the stars. 

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

If You Need It, Then I Need It

Johnny Martin x Reader

Summary: The death of Eugene Jackson weighs heavy on each and every soldier in Easy Company. You and Johnny find comfort in each other

Warnings: mutual infidelity, SMUT, ROUGH SMUT, BADLY WRITTEN SMUT, weak attempts at making it fluff, a terrible example of safe sex (don’t risk it, wrap your biscuit), unhealthy coping mechanisms, ANGST PROBABLY BC I HAVE A PROBLEM

And ,guess what? Another song-inspired fic! Title and feels brought to you by Need It by Half Moon Run!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You never knew a kiss could hurt so sweetly.

The way John’s mouth pressed against yours was bruising and unyielding, tasting of salt and guilt and such a deep sadness you feared you may drown in it. 

But it was everything you wanted- everything you needed.

The death of the young Eugene Jackson had been the metaphorical straw that broke the camel’s back for many people, all the years of death and destruction and cold and hunger and loss seeming to come to a head in the sleepy town by the river. You felt as if you had aged decades in the span of five years.

Hope had died for you somewhere in Holland. The painful ache of disappointed resolve could only take you so far, and for some reason Johnny Martin’s face had made it clear that it was no longer sustainable.

You were lonely, you all were so hollow and lonely that you were amazed no one had yet cracked in two.

When the two of you had found each other that night, it suddenly didn't matter that you were both spoken for. You didn’t care that you were expected to marry a cold man of your father’s choosing when you got home, and when John had locked the office door behind him you knew that his loyalty to Patricia was the furthest thing from his mind.

The song the two of you had been dancing to these past four years had finally reached its crescendo, all of the shared nights of quiet reassurances and lingering looks and too-affectionate touches finally demanded resolution.

And he’d been the one to kiss you, after all.

But any guilt you’d expected to feel failed to come, your hands clutching at him as if he were the only thing keeping you alive.

A broken sob slips out of your throat when he bites at your lips, but he doesn’t seem to hear it.

Maybe he’s worried about drowning, too.

You shove his coat off of his shoulders, the cold in your bones crying out for the warmth only his skin could provide.

“I know, Baby- I know…” he mumbles against your lips, his own hands clawing at your clothing as well. “I’m comin’, I’ve got you- Fuck—”

You claw your nails down his back, knowing you were probably being too rough but the fire in your veins sings for more, more, more.

More of what? You had no idea.

John seemed to, though. He seemed to know exactly what you needed.

Hands in your hair crank your head back until he’s looming over you with kiss-swollen lips and bright eyes.

He shakes his head in something akin to disbelief. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, aren’t you, Kid?”

When you let a wicked smile curl your lips upward, he growls like some sort of beast.

“I can think of worse ways to go….Sir.”

The hand that latches around your throat only makes you grin wider. 

He’s gotten you down to your tank top, and you watch his eyes catch how your nipples pebble in the cold night air. His jaw is slack with desire, the hand on your throat pulling you from your seated position on the table so you are standing toe to toe.

“You want this, right?” John’s breathing is rough, his warm breath washing over your face and making you drunk. When you don’t immediately respond he tightens his hand around your throat ever so slightly and brings his other hand down to fist the material of your shirt at your breastbone.

 “Hey- look at me. Tell me you want this or I’m not doing another fucking thing—”

You cut him off with a vicious kiss before quickly slipping your hand down the front of his pants and squeezing. Swallowing his groan greedily, you nuzzle at his cheek until you get him to turn his head enough for your lips to find his ear.

“No,” you whimper, and when you feel him about to pull away you bite at his earlobe. “I fucking need this….I need you, John Martin.”

With a curse of your name, he seals his mouth back to yours, hands sliding down your torso and tugging your clothes out of his way.

No one called him just ‘John’- not his mom or his sister or his men or even Patty. It rolled off of your tongue so sweetly that before now he’s always had to fight the urge to chase it with his lips. 

No one had ever just wanted John Martin.

Yet here you were, needing him.

You could feel how much he liked knowing that.

As your pants slide down your legs you feel his bruising grip on your freshly bared flesh, desperately hoping that you’ll have marks on your skin after this is all over.

“You don’t mean that,” Johnny chastises, gasping against your neck as hips buck unexpectedly into your borderline torturous touch. “Fuck, Baby- don’t say that to me unless you mean it….”

One of your hands fists in his hair and brings his face between your newly exposed breasts for him to explore with his tongue.

“You told me to be selfish, didn’t you?” You remind him. “You said that if I wanted something, I needed to make it mine and take it, didn’t you?”

At the time, he’d been trying to reassure you that it was okay to say no to things- more specifically, John had been referencing your family’s predetermined plans for you and your happiness.

“Your life is your own, Y/N Y/L/N. And after all that you’ve seen and done- you deserve to be happy. Take what you want and make it yours, take it if you gotta. You’re too bright to be snuffed out…”

When you look down your chest and see the piercing heat in his eyes, you almost lose your nerve.

He’s sinfully beautiful, the hungry incubus your mother had tried to warn you of when you told her of your plans to join the Airborne’s medical staff. 

Debauched, single-minded, dangerous.

God, how you loved it.

His teeth bite into the soft skin of your breast, refusing to free you from his wild and wanting gaze.

“If you won't give it to me, let me go so I can find someone who will.”

Judging by the snarl that twists his face, he doesn’t like your insinuation one bit.

As he straightens up to shuck off his trousers, you turn around and shove your underwear down to your knees, pressing your forehead onto the cool wood of the table you’d been sitting on and offering your backside to him like a crude and carnal oblation.

Biting kisses are bestowed across your shoulders and down your back as his fingers spread your slickness across the petals of your sex, pinching and plucking at you until you are writhing before him. You know that you’re breathing too loud but cannot find it in yourself to keep quiet.

“Please,” you mewl, hands reaching blindly behind you in a vain attempt to get a grip on some part of him. “Please please please please—”

Rough hands grip your hips and twist you back around so you are facing him before you are shoved back almost violently.

Your head is spinning, a foggy delirium of desire making you pant stupidly up at John.

Hands press your knees upwards and outwards, opening you up for him to admire and praise.

“Don’t beg, never beg—goddamn it, Kid, you never gotta beg me for anything….Fuck, look at you. Never hide your face like that again”

His cock is in you before you can fully process his words (namely the word again), a broken cry being swallowed by his kiss before it can grow any louder.

It’s rough and sloppy and desperate- your bodies twisting and turning like flames of a wildfire. You’re sure the table beneath you will break but John is holding you so fucking tightly that you think that it almost wouldn’t matter if it did.

You babble mindlessly into his ear about how good he feels and how good he’s making you feel, and in turn John calls you beautiful and perfect and tells you how good you are which only serves to drive you crazier. 

In a move you hadn’t expected, his rough fingers reach between the two of you and pinch at your clit, jerking it up and down in a motion similar to the way you’d stroked his cock.

Good God, you’d never considered touching it like that.

“Oh shit,” you curse, back beginning to bow at the overwhelming heat coiling in your lower stomach. “You like that, huh?” his voice is smug in your ear. “God knows I like it, Sweetheart- fuckin’ do this whenever you want, Baby—”

“Shut up,” your voice is high and wavering, unfamiliar to your ears. “Don’t say that if—”

“I do fuckin’ mean it. Come.”

Lightning- that’s what it feels like. Electricity dancing wildly against your skin and throughout your body, the crackle of release curling and skating from the top of your head to the tip of your toes.

And it just doesn’t stop.

You know that John is kissing you, you know that he is shooting deep inside of you, you know that he’s apologizing while he pumps into you without hesitation.

“I know I shouldn’t I’m sorry I’m sorry I didn’t ask I didn’t mean to Please don’t stop.”

Your eyes are open and unseeing, relying on your hands to find his ass and pull him into you so he doesn’t stop.

“It’s okay It’s okay I need you so much You feel so good Please don’t leave me.”

The lips that had been at your cheek kissing tears away now give way to gritted teeth, John’s breath hot and wet against your skin as he rolls his hips once, twice more before stilling inside of you.

Still quaking beneath him, you turn your head to share his labored breath and open your mouth obligingly when he licks at the seam of your lips.

“Too much?’ he asks breathlessly, the damp strands of his overgrown hair tickling your face as he lets his head fall into your shoulder. “Was it….did I take too much?”

You shake your head no, kissing at his sweaty temple and lethargically wrapping your arms around him.

“You’re perfect, John Martin. God help me, you are nothing less than perfect.”

In this moment, you can’t think too much about what you’ve done- the implications and inevitable fallout for your transgressions that you will both will have to face once the afterglow has faded and the cold morning takes its place.

As if he knows your train of thought, John nuzzles further into your neck and kisses your sweaty skin sweetly.

“Stay here,” he commands, his voice a soft and sleepy rumble in his chest. “I’m not going anywhere, just stay here with me….”

Closing your eyes you nod and rake your hand through his hair.

“Okay,” you say. “Okay.”

Your sins can wait. 

You can both be selfish for a little bit longer.

~ ~ ~

*toes ground awkwardly* so...here we are again. me: writing smut unprompted, you: wishing I would knock it off and finish a multi-chapter fic FOR ONCE IN MY LIFE. WELL, GUESS WHAT? I totally understand and am working on it I PROMISE! Thank you for reading and I love you more than Nixon loves alcohol ok bYE!

Taglist: @mrseasycompany​​​ @itswormtrain​​​ @mrsalwayswrite​​​ @happyveday​​​ @sunsetmando​

[adarlingwrites]

Taste

Summary: The blue bard is sickeningly sweet for Astarion's preferences, but he'll never forget her taste.

Author’s Notes: Taste is a collection of retellings of Astarion's scenes with the player character from the Baldur's Gate 3 early access, but with a little more embellishments. Plus, it has glimpses of my tiefling's backstory.

I had horrible, horrible artist's and writer's block and I needed to get this out of my system to get the creative juices flowing again. Please excuse any typos or lack of quality.

Larian give us the bard class pls I am begging of you

I - Blueberry Wine

The time for rest has come.

Bedrolls are strewn on the campgrounds, and most of its inhabitants are already asleep. Nothing can be heard save for the crackle of fire, the chirp of birds in the woods, and soft snoring.

If it wasn’t for their common goal of removing those damned illithid tadpoles from their heads before they undergo ceremorphosis, the members of this party wouldn’t even spend five minutes within each others’ presence. Now, they’re sleeping in one place. It takes some measure of trust for that.

The dreams of the tiefling in their ragtag group aren’t sweet tonight, to say the least.

Brows furrowed as another nightmare wormed into her psyche, the tiefling tosses and turns in her bedroll, a thin film of sweat giving her forehead a slight sheen in the firelight. Eyes shooting open, she choked back a gasp, lest she wake up her companions in the camp. The crackle of the campfire and the smell of burning wood gave her some semblance of comfort, at least, reminding her of distant memories.

A warm hearth, a kind face, the smell of freshly baked blueberry pie; simple comforts from her youth that she missed terribly.

The comfort that accompanied the nostalgia was enough to make her drift back to sleep. Woefully, it didn’t stop the nightmares from coming back, now centered around the tiefling’s early years.

Small, bare feet pitter-pattered on the wet pavement, frantic gasps escaped her dry mouth. Choking back a sob, more people went after her, shouting, hurling words that scraped her heart.

“Stop! Thief!”

“Devil!”

“Slay the demon!”

Lungs burning from exertion, the little tiefling whelp coughs, rasps for air, and slides under a cart. In the dark, she can see a narrow alleyway, which she scurries into. The men run past her hiding spot, cursing and muttering amongst themselves. Relief floods through her as their torchlights grew dim.

Safe, at last.

Her trembling arms had been holding on to precious cargo; a stale loaf of bread, wrapped in linen. It’s not a delectable morsel of steak, or rich bone marrow, but it’s better than the rocks she grinded with her sharp teeth for breakfast.

As she takes it out of the cloth, a stone drops in her stomach and horror twists on her young face. The tiefling isn’t holding a loaf of bread, but a severed head of a drow. A scream threatened to escape her throat and pierce the night air, but the tiefling maiden could only gasp as she felt a presence behind her.

Wine red eyes still heavy with sleep met with alert, ruby ones. She isn’t dreaming any longer.

In the dim firelight, she sees him. Astarion.

Truth be told, she doesn’t quite know what to feel about the posh elf. Astarion’s handsome face and fair curls are easy on the eyes, but it only reminded her of how hellish she looks in comparison due to her infernal ancestry. His sharp, calculating eyes puts her at unease, even when his gaze isn’t directed towards her. He has a way of making people feel beneath him, like vulnerable prey. Serenity is not exempt from that, despite her efforts to be pleasant to him. Not to mention, Astarion’s attitude and mannerisms reminded her of the uppity nobles she had the displeasure of encountering in her colorful past.

In short, he’s a handsome fellow with a revolting attitude, at least to Serenity’s standards. Lust and indignation battles with each other in the tiefling’s psyche.

It doesn’t help at all that the elf is fond of calling her pet names, such as “sweetheart” or “dear”. No one calls her such sweet things with genuine intent, not after she saw the drow’s head on a pike, and to hear them from his condescending mouth stirs something dark in her heart.

It especially inflames her whenever he calls her “darling”.

She wanted to pounce on him. However, she wasn’t sure what she wanted after that.

Tear his pretty face asunder with her nails and watch his handsome features contort in agony, perhaps? Or watch him writhe underneath her in a more… carnal manner as she takes out all of her frustration by mashing her ravenous mouth against his lovely lips?

Maybe both?

“Oh, Serenity. You have no need for that sort of… decadence,” she thinks to herself.

Alas, her body says otherwise.

“Shit,” he says upon meeting eyes with her, distracting the tiefling from her thoughts. Serenity didn’t expect such a vulgar word to come out of his pretty mouth, and she didn’t expect the gleaming fangs inside of it either.

How could she not see it the first few times?

The dead boar they found on the road, the fact that she had never seen him consume any food, and the wolfish way he eyes her neck when he thought she wasn’t looking should’ve given it away.

Astarion is a vampire. Worse, he's a vampire who’s intending to sink his teeth in Serenity’s neck.

Whatever terrible things she secretly wanted to do to him, she had no chance of enacting them in this situation. Hells, if anything, Astarion is the one with the capacity to do terrible things to her. The tiefling will be at his mercy, if she doesn’t act fast. So, why isn’t her body doing anything to move?

Heart racing, she needed to say something, at least.

“Stop,” Serenity warns him, voice low, baring her own sharp teeth. The tiefling had considered smashing her precious lute over his head as a last resort. Before the bard can lash out, he pulls back, alarmed.

“No no, it’s not what it looks like, I swear!” Astarion hastily blurts, panic evident in his voice. “ I wasn’t going to hurt you! I just needed- well, blood.”

The elf’s admission confirms it; Astarion is a vampire, a creature enslaved to sanguine hunger.

At that moment, an expression that Serenity hasn’t seen on the elf before twists his features: guilt. The vampire knew he’s betraying her trust, and it shows.

“How long since you killed someone? Days? Hours?” Serenity asks, on guard now, but still sitting on her bedroll.

Eyes widening, Astarion’s tone becomes defensive. “I’ve never killed anyone!” he exclaims. Then, his expression turns grim. “Well, not for food. I feed on animals. Boars, deer, kobolds! Whatever I can get.”

The lass feels slightly reassured that she’s not dealing with a blood-sucking serial killer, but the possibility of him lying puts her on edge again.

“But it’s not enough,” the pale elf speaks again. Serenity half expected him to say this, he did try to bite her after all. “Not if I have to fight. I feel so… weak.”

And there it was, the last thing she expected from him: vulnerability. His reluctance to show weakness was written all over his face. Perhaps it wounds his pride? Regardless of the doubt she has for him, it changed Serenity’s perception of the vampire ever so slightly.

“If I just had a bit of blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please.”

Now this is a pleasant surprise. Astarion saying please? Is this a dream?

Still, the tiefling wanted to dig deeper at the truth. Brows knitting together in concentration, she knew better than to use the tadpole, but the damn thing established a psionic link with other infected individuals. 

Serenity pushes into the vampire’s mind to search for the truth.

“I- what’s this? What’s happening?” Astarion blurts, experiencing slight discomfort from the intrusion.

Pushing deep into the elf’s cracked and quivering memories, Serenity strains as she sifts through centuries worth of them, until she has reached its heart. There, she found herself in Astarion’s shoes; quite literally. She sees dark eyes that commanded her to feed, and instinctively, her body follows suit. Serenity, experiencing this through Astarion’s memory, opens her mouth, biting down, but not into a tender, pulsing neck. Though she wanted to recoil in disgust, there was no other choice; she couldn’t physically resist. The choice had been made for her- no, made for Astarion.

Astarion’s fangs pierce the twisting body of a rat - the only thing his master allows him to eat.

In return, Serenity’s own memories leak through the cracks of her psyche, and Astarion finds himself in the body of a wee girl with horns too big for her head. Ravenously, he inhales the sweet, buttery aroma of a freshly-baked pie resting on a windowsill. Astarion’s hands, now small and of bluish color, reach for the baked good with caution. A warm, ash-colored hand presses on his shoulder, and he sees the smiling face of a tall, drow man. Instead of hurting him for attempting to steal, the dark elf ushers him to a table, and offers him a slice with a compassionate smile. Serenity will never forget her first taste of the buttery pie crust, the sweet blueberries, and a hint of lemon and salt.

Now, Astarion will never forget that taste, either.

The connection between them severed, Serenity takes a moment to collect herself.

“You ate animals because you were forced to. Not because you wanted to,” she mumbles, eyebrows knitted together. Is it sympathy? Or perhaps his experiences reminded her of her own relationship with food?

Whatever it was, the tiefling’s perception of Astarion drastically shifted. On the surface, Astarion is a noble who turns up his nose at folks like her, but in truth, he suffered under the hands of a cruel master.

Being a pompous ass is a defense mechanism for him.

“I- yes,” Astarion says with resignation. “Yes, I ate whatever disgusting vermin my master picked. So, you can see why I’m slow to trust you,” he continues, and Serenity swore the expression he wore on his face tugged a few strings in her heart.

“But I do trust you, and you can trust me,” Astarion tells her.

Serenity thinks it might not be fair for her not to. How can she say that she can’t, after she saw his past for herself, and he didn’t show any hostility towards her for intruding upon his darkest, most haunting memories?

“I do. I believe you,” the bard responds, and she can hear his relief when he mutters “Thank you.”

Perhaps Serenity had judged him too harshly in the past. The drow who took her in cultivated compassion in her heart, and it’s beckoning to her.

“Do you need blood?” Serenity asks him, and there is genuine surprise on his face.

“I was about to ask,” he tells her, expression shifting into something more pleasant. “I only need a taste, I swear.”

“As long as you don’t take a drop more than you need,” Serenity replies, loosening her clothing slightly, her smallclothes peeking through.

“Really?” he asks, and he sounds almost eager.

“I- of course. Not one drop more.”

That damn vampire flashes her a smile that sends lightning rippling through her veins.

Astarion’s yearning eyes flicked to her exposed flesh, barely making out the purple tinge on her bluish skin as blood rushed from her chest to her face. Seeing where his eyes are roaming, Serenity feels her heart racing faster, and she swiftly lies down, back turned away from him. The tiefling bard is not about to let her companion see her flustered state.

Face inches away from her head, Astarion catches a whiff of the tiefling’s scent. He quietly thanked the gods that she didn’t smell of sulfur or rotting meat; instead, the bard smells of ash from freshly burned incense, laced with a warm, spiced scent.

The vampire holds her gently, delicately, until he strikes.

Astarion sinks deep, fangs like shards of ice piercing her neck. Serenity lets out a gasp, and her face contorts into an expression of pain and discomfort. Thankfully, the pain is quick and sharp, and as the vampire continues to feed, it fades gently into throbbing numbness. The bard feels her blood coursing through her body, into Astarion’s mouth, who sucked and slurped it hungrily.

He leans forward, one arm almost draping over the bard’s torso to support his weight, while the other still holds her head. Palm running through her short obsidian hair, he stops as they touch one of her horns, hand enclosing into a fist around it. Gently tugging, the elf tilts  her head for better access.

Astarion’s lips are wet from his meal’s blood and sweat, and his own saliva. They glided on the sensitive skin ever so slightly as he pursed them and sucked harder. Serenity found her breath catching in her throat from his actions, pulse quickening as her hand flew to grasp Astarion’s arm, filed fingernails turning white at the end.

In a figurative and literal sense, she’s holding on to dear life.

“Ah, Astarion, that’s enough,” she mewls, hand moving to grasp his hair, fingernails running through his scalp. Not enough to hurt, but enough for the vampire to snap out of it due to the sensation it produced.

The vampire moans, almost carnally, then it is followed by a surprised, questioning grunt. Serenity’s pleas, and the scrape of her fingernails took him from his trance-like state. Immediately, he removes himself from her neck, swallowing thickly.

“Oh. Of course.”

Serenity sits up as he pulls back, light-headed from the blood loss. She turns to the pale elf, her breathing ragged as her fingers gingerly pressed on her bite wound. The tiefling felt a blush creep on her face, neck, and pointy ears as she gazes upon Astarion’s face. In the firelight, she can see that his pupils are blown out in ecstasy, and blood is trickling from the corner of his mouth.

“That- that was amazing,” Astarion purrs, wiping off her blood and bringing his fingers to his mouth, savoring it to the last drop. “My mind is finally clear. I feel strong. I feel…”

He pauses, and Serenity stopped breathing for a moment.

“Happy,” he continued, sighing in contentment as he gave her a gentle, genuine smile.

Serenity had to blink a few times to confirm that she wasn’t seeing things.

She clears her throat, hoping to dissipate the delicious tension between them. “I look forward to seeing you fight,” the bard says to him, drawing her knees to her chest.

“Shouldn’t take long. So many people need killing,” Astarion responds, bowing ever so slightly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating, but I need something more… filling.”

The pale elf turns around and just like that, he is back to normal, snobbish self.

Serenity slumps back on her bedroll, exhaling slowly as her heart finally slows down. Her body crashes from the surge of adrenaline and the blood loss. Turning her head, she watches as the elf stalks towards the forest; stronger, more confident, and ready to hunt.

“This is a gift, you know,” Astarion tells her, back still turned from her, looking over his shoulder.

“I won’t forget it.”

Serenity won’t forget it either.

It didn’t take long before Astarion found a deer in the forest. As he drank the beast’s blood, he couldn’t help but compare the taste to Serenity’s blood. The animal is more filling indeed, but now? Nothing compares to the taste of the tiefling’s delicious blood.

She is the first humanoid he ever tasted, after all.

And how will he describe her taste?

The darling tiefling is bubbly, gentle, and sweet, much like her demeanor; almost sickeningly so, for his standards. It’s comparable to the Monastery of the Yellow Rose’s blueberry wine: a fragrant dessert wine he had the pleasure of consuming with delicate cheeses and light cakes back when he didn’t have any fangs.

Or perhaps he had associated her with the fruit due to her memories mingling with his.

Either way, when he said that he won’t forget it, he wasn’t just referring to the favor she did for him. Astarion was referring to Serenity’s taste as well.

Meanwhile, in the camp, Serenity draws her lute to her chest, plucking the strings softly in an attempt to lull herself to sleep. It doesn’t ease her into slumber like it usually does. Sighing, she squeezes her thighs together, heat pooling between them as she recalled the vampire’s lips on her pulsing neck. Perhaps it’s not the lute that she should be plucking at.

Reaching into the waistband of her trousers, the bard gives in to her secret desires.

At least there weren’t any more nightmares for the night.

[auty-ren]

Hi! May I please request 66: “I’m going to keep you safe.” with Paz? Thank you!! ❤️

@starflyer-104 also asked: "can I request some Paz fluff? I just want him to hold me in his big ol arms and be soft and tell me he loves me (it’s sad bitch hours over here). Also I love you and your writing 🤍"

A/N: Thank you both for sending these in! Hope you don't mind I decided to combine them. I love Paz and I feel like he doesn't get enough attention. Enjoy💕

Warnings: Mentions of sex. Hurt. Comfort. Fluff. Slight smut.

Alone

He never questioned when you barge into his room in the middle of the night, still shaking and breathless from the aftershocks of a nightmare. This wasn't the first time you had sought him out, both of you had made an unhealthy habit of releasing tension by fucking it out of each other.

The first time it happened was unintentional, but when you found yourself in the middle of Paz’s room, staring at him as he waited for an answer, you realized you wanted nothing more than to feel him. You wanted him to melt away every ounce of hurt you were feeling with his touch, and he was more than happy to oblige. He served as a distraction, temporarily relieving your mind and body of stress and worry. When he was inside you it was the closest thing you felt to bliss, the rock of his hips served as a gateway to a haven that was entirely too intoxicating. He was addicting, which was why you kept coming to him night after night, hoping to forget.

You crossed the threshold of his room, whispering his name and slinking under the sheets of his bed to lay beside him. He just wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight against him.

“Don't cry, Mesh'la.”

You hadn't even noticed you were crying, too focused on finding Paz to even process what you were thinking. A sob escaped your lips and you buried your face into his chest. He ran his fingers through your hair, coaxing you until your breathing evened out. There was no need to ask what was wrong, he had this sixth sense that allowed him to see straight through any facade you could conceive. It's part of the reason you hated him, it was so easy for him to understand and it infuriated you. Maybe because you desperately needed a reason to hate him, but he never could provide one.

“I'm going to keep you safe.” He whispered a promise he had made to you many times before and never once failed to keep.

You felt more tears well in your eyes again, but not from fear or panic. You had really done nothing in your life to deserve Paz. He was nothing but kind to you and never asked for anything in return. You felt yourself fall for him more and more each day and it made your heartache. You longed to be in his arms even when you didn't have a nightmare. After bringing each other to the brink of oblivion, you lay beside him wishing you could stay but never did. If you let yourself be consumed by him -if you stayed and allowed yourself to be so vulnerable with him- there would be no turning back. There were times when you thought it possible, that your relationship could be more than a way of carnal release. Sometimes you dreamt that maybe he wanted the same thing from you, but you didn't dwell on those thoughts for too long, afraid you'd just end up hurting yourself. You knew it was never meant to be, so you took these moments together and cherished them with every part of your being. Storing them away in the far corners of your mind and reliving them when the loneliness was too much to handle.

You pulled away from him, bringing your face to be level with his. With the dim light of his bedroom, you could barely make out his features, just a breath away from yours. He moved his hand away from your back to cradle the side of your face, his other wrapping around your middle and rubbing circles into your back. His hands were warm and comforting, you felt yourself melt into his touch, your eyes slipping closed as he brushed away the tears that slid across your cheek.

“You'll never be alone again.”

“Don't,” you squeezed your eyes, more tears threatening to fall from the implication of his words, as you pulled away slightly from his grip. He was just trying to comfort you, but you wouldn't allow him to lie so blatantly, no matter how much you craved for him to say it.

“Not unless you mean it.”

He was taken aback, the softness in his eyes turning sharp as he looked at you. His brows knitted slightly in concentration, his eyes darting across your face.

“Of course I mean it.”

He didn't wait for you to respond, his lips crashed into yours with a hunger that was incorporeal to any other time he kissed you. He pulled you impossibly close, his entire being enveloping you in his warmth. His hand moved to the back of your head, his kiss deepening as he held you against him.

Your hands finally reached out to touch him, your fingers tracing lightly across his chest, nails scratching lightly against his skin. He groaned and maneuvered you to lay on your back, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress. Settled in between your legs, his hips slotted against yours as he ground into you. His hands traveled down to grip your calves, hitching your legs to rest around his waist. You broke the kiss as a moan erupted in your throat, his lips moving to suck on that heavenly spot where your jaw met your neck.

“Promise?” You whispered into the skin of his shoulder, your arms wrapping around his neck.

His actions stopped for a moment as you held him, your fingers moving to thread through his hair. He moved his face away from your neck, his nose nuzzling into your cheek.

“So long as I live and breathe, Mesh'la.”

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@on-the-razor-crest @readsalot73 @roxypeanut @ben-is-a-hoe @vintage-silk @talesfromtheguild

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