#incubus scout

[number1yisuchongfan]

“What?”

This is based off a moment in my Incubus Scout fic on ao3 (x)

[lvrboy-inc]

“One Of The Boys” - The Weeknd

꒰: Précis | College life isn’t easy. So what happens when one run-in at a party introduces you to someone who changes your life..forever?

꒰: Disclaimer(s) | Money Laundering Incubus!Suguru x Virgin Stripper m!reader, degradation, coercion, manipulation, [ CW : mentions of hard substances, mentions of prostitution ] exhibitionism, hold the m0an, biting, dirty talk, hair pulling, mild bondage, degradation. Tread very carefully~!!

꒰: Word Count ; 13.6k

Sweetest Sin Masterlist

“It’s fucking illegal. As hell.”

————

Wasted potential.

No one likes it.

So what exactly is one to do when they are a walking definition of such?

Well..it all started back in college.

Already struggling with keeping your education afloat–and not to even get into the aspects of relationships–you were in a muck. A really bad one. Some may have called it, ‘Sophmore Slump’. But it would’ve been so much better if you could’ve kept the term as something you knew of and not all about. 

Money was tight, the people were wildly unreliable and overall, your life was looking greyscale. 

That’s how it was, anyway.

Being scouted by one of the more wealthy upperclassmen you knew at a party you were originally planning on blacking out at might’ve been one of the best things to happen to you..and consequently the worst.

“Y’know, if your financial situation is as shitty as you claim, I’ve got a friend who could offer a bit more..stability,” You’d recalled the white-haired scamp uttering as you both babysat drinks that neither of you were truly enjoying. His eyes were scanning all over the party whilst yours were watching the ripples that your red Solo created due to the proximity of the loudspeaker. “His business is kinda small now but I promise he’s goin’ places with it. Stick beside him, get to know him, become indispensable and I swear, you’ll never eat out of another ramen cup again.”

It was a spotless business pitch if you’d ever heard one. So of course, you found yourself sitting across from the stranger’s so-called ‘friend’ at a café that was far too open for the subject he’d brought up.

He was probably the same height as the man who’d approached you at the party in the first place, except his build was a bit more cut and burly. 

You awkwardly drummed your fingers against the sides of the coffee cup he’d offered to pay for—and to which you only agreed after heavy persuasion and a, ‘No, me’ back and forth—glancing around the scene. It wasn’t any question that he was here to talk business with you. I mean, such a professional setting and the way he looked?

Straight, jet-black hair that you saw running just below his shoulder blades with just a hint of crimping at the ends–all so neatly tied together in a half-up, half-down bun. For the casual setting, he’d worn a high black turtleneck and beige, loose-fitting, ironed pants. The accessories he adorned just screamed upper echelon but what topped it all off were those thinly framed glasses that sat so prettily on his narrow nose bridge.

To be so frank, he didn’t even look real. More like someone you’d see on a Pinterest board for visions or something with a more..suggestive connotation. Though, snapping you out of your mild daydreaming, you heard him clear his throat justly. In your own absentmindedness, you failed to realize that his eyes had barely fell on you either. Not really nervousness but..some straying variation of it. Maybe..hesitance?

“So,” he’d begun, finally turning to meet your gaze with those deep violets. “I’m sure Satoru filled you in, yes? On the..outlines of the job?” 

Outlines? Were you supposed to have been informed of such? “Ah..n-no, I don’t believe so..? He just said you’d had a business that’s drumming up and that I should become something like an..early investor? I don’t know, something along those lines.”

“Wait—you don’t even know what the job is?” 

You bit your lip in response, guiding your eyes back to the cup in your hand before shaking your head. A low, throaty groan was heard from across the table as he pushed his index and thumb under the frame of his glasses, pinching the taut skin between his eyes. “Right. And you agreed to show up without any further information? What if I’d been asking you to be like..some sort of hitman or something?”

“Well..are you?” A scoff and he readjusted, leaning back in his chair with a look that was all-too fed up.

Eyes now boring into yours, he rolled his tongue along the bottom set of his teeth before speaking—probably an effort to try not and hurt your feelings with his next words—leaning forward on his elbows. “No. If I wanted someone dead, I’d do it myself. I certainly wouldn’t ask a complete and utter stranger to do such a thing on our first  meeting, either.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you took a long sip of your drink, readily squaring your posture. “Given the fact that I don’t even know your name, I’d say that I’m down for just about anything.”

“Geto. Suguru Geto. But please, call me Geto until we’ve gone past our formalities,” Reaching down beside him, he had unlatched the straps binding his satchel closed, slowly rummaging through the leather and then pulling out a small folder. It was laminated at the front and along with it, he brought out a pen. “Here, it’s a contract. Read through that and I’ll explain everything else that isn’t stated or that you have trouble..comprehending to the fullest extent.”

He spoke so properly that it felt a bit unnerving. Either way, he slid it across the table and at the very front, in bold lettering were the words, “Purple Haze: Beginnings”. You opened up the first page and were hit with a load of numbers and statistics muddled throughout the large sum of words, paragraphs..essay’s worth of other writing. To say that you bit back a groan would be an understatement.

But, as your eyes scanned over the lengthy pages, he began to speak. “You see..I’m already a part of an organization. A much larger one that I’m trying to branch off onto my own. Think of it as..expansion,” his expression was becoming more laid back as he went on—you could just tell he knew what he was talking about. As if he knew he would already be the best. “It’s going to be anything but fruitless. Sure, the startup is going to be slow, but it’ll all be worth it. My job is going to be hiring more..‘recruits’. You know, sweet talking them down, promising the world—typical business pitches. In turn, they will provide cover for what’s going on behind the scenes.”

“From what I’m reading here it looks like you’re just trying to start a..strip club? I’m sorry but–”

“Don’t interrupt me,” Spoken sharply and with the slightest hint of agitation, he sighed heavily and ran a hand through the bit of hair that was left to frame his face. “As I was saying—that’s where you come in.”

“You want me to become a stripper? For you?”

Tilting his head from side to side a bit, he came back to a level. “In the most simple of terms…yes. But, unlike the rest that I’ll be hiring, you’ll be given an inside look into what exactly the..‘bigger picture’ is.”

“And that is?”

“Money.” A small smile spread across his face as he brought his hands to fold in front of him, propping his jaw up on the backs of them. “Trust me. I know this is all a lot to take in, but I’m offering you a chance to be bigger. To be better than the average, mundane life of walking among the lower class, of having to go to classes every single day just to learn things I’m positive you already know. Not to sound cliché, but you’re different. I’ve done my research.”

The way his grin wasn’t faltering was already putting you off, especially as you’d gotten to the section that he then explained would be cut out for the rest. “Right there. Notice the jump? These are simply predictions for what we’ll bring in—not an exact estimate. The true sums are bound to be much more than your college-attending brain could ever dream of.”

“Hey,” You’d slightly chastise, giving your brows just an inch of a furrow before returning your focus. “Where..where would all the extra cash even come from, though? I mean…it can’t just be solely from what we’ll be doing.”

A low rumbling in his chest, resembling that of a laugh but ultimately dying out as a wry breath had followed behind your question. “There, that right there is the real kicker. Tell me, have you ever heard of..money laundering?” Your body went a bit rigid at the inquiry and your fingers stilled their idle tracing as you read along. “You’re a business major—of course you have. But, you’ve only heard of where it fails. Where the police get involved, where everything unravels at the seams and great empires tumble and fall to their knees once they get wayyy too in over their heads.”

“Well, duh! I mean, it’s–” You looked around, suddenly becoming acutely aware of your volume. Peering in closer, you hunched over the table a bit, continuing in a harsh whisper. “It’s fucking illegal. As hell. You’re telling me that you want me to not only strip, but be a cover and an accomplice for..for this? Fuck that. You’re out of your goddamn mind if you think..”

“Think what? Think about the budget you’re on? Think about the way you’ve been purposely slacking in your academics for the sake of lowering standards, of expectations that others hold for you because you can’t take the pressure of being the absolute fucking best in your field? Or perhaps how I know that you’re better than all of this shit,” The commonality and relatively airy tone he’d held before was almost gone now as he let himself fall forward to eye you down. It was like the atmosphere was a living thing, sparking and sending the embers out into every breath you took. “Dumbing yourself down for people who are intimidated by the sheer potential you have, that which has been built upon all of your past accomplishments, the future you can have if you just grow a pair and stop caring so damn much about who you leave in the dark as you shine.”

By this point, you’d pulled back, sitting down in your seat and taking a longgg sip that was all-too loud and obnoxious to not be passive aggressive. “You have the knowledge, you have the management skills, you have the body—so what’s really stopping you from capitalizing on all of that?”

Silence.

“Right. You are the only thing holding yourself back. That, or, to put it crassly—you’re just too much of a pussy.” A sharp glare, almost like a dagger thrown, was shot his way and he gave a light snort. It was too easy to get under your skin, especially like this. “Look. All I’m saying is..you’re on the edge of something great. Something revolutionary. Sure, it’s not as..conventional, as you thought your ‘big break’ would be but…when one door closes, a sunroof opens. Reach for those stars, let me help you touch those stars. And all I’m asking in return is for you to…show a bit of skin, dirty up a few numbers, smile through it all. Nothing you haven’t done before, I’m sure.”

Your leg had started bouncing under the table as you now stared at the empty signature line. His had already been written in that pretty cursive scrawl, topped off with an extra loop as to where the last ‘O’ of his name was. It was like both the man in front of you now, as well as just the mere sight of his name was enough for you to pick up the pen. Clicking the tip out of place, your hand stopped just before the paper.

“And..you’re positive the police won’t find out? I-I mean..it’s just so..chance. More risk than reward.” an uncertain concern that left your mouth as you slowly lifted your head.

“For someone who’s so good with math, your ratios seem pretty..off,” That laidback tone had returned once more and this time, it was accompanied by his hand coming over yours, laying your shaking down against the table. A gesture that would be more comforting if it hadn’t come from who it did. “By all means, don’t sign it. Throw this away, walk away from this conversation, this table—forget you ever met me. But I know one thing without a shadow of a doubt; You’ll regret it.”

Swallowing dryly, you could feel the weight of his words as if they were some physical force—not to be reckoned with. And so, that’s how you wound up scratching your signature into the paper, right next to his. You felt an odd..surge as the pen lifted off, like you’d somehow..sealed your fate. 

Suguru looked at you with a smile that was nearly devilish in its satisfaction, calmly pulling the packet closed and stuffing it back in his bag as he shut it back up with the rhythmic latching of the straps once again. He’d stood up, slinging his satchel over his satchel and dipping his hands into his pockets, not without pushing his glasses further onto his face. 

“So..that’s it? We’re done here..?” You’d asked, grabbing your drink and going along as you pushed your chair in. Reaching for your wallet, Suguru was two steps ahead—placing a hefty tip for your waitress on the table.

After you’d rolled your eyes at the gesture, he took the lead in the path to the door. “For now, yes. I’ll keep in contact with you, along the lines of details, times, meetings and any other updates regarding progress,” Pushing open the glass with a small chime of the bell overhead, he held it open and let you walk through. Once situated outside, he outstretched his hand toward you. “Welcome on board. I have a feeling this is the beginning of a..lasting partnership.” 

The word he’d emphasized made it all the more apparent that you’d very well just signed your..well, almost everything over to this man in the span of an hour, two tops. But even so, among all of the anxiety, among all of the nerves and just fear of what was to come, you willed yourself to shake his hand firmly and nod your head long. “Here’s to new beginnings.”

“To us.” he’d reiterated, slipping his hand away and turning around to walk off in the opposite direction of you.

That day..it marked the most significant choice of your life. It changed..everything.

        ⋆⁺₊⋆ —————⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰————— ⋆⁺₊⋆

A whistle from across the room and you knew you were being called over. 

Throbbing strobe lights overhead, a classic RnB playing over blaring stereos overhead and the scene was absolutely electrifying. The smell of flowing drinks, the sounds of patrons hooping and hollering over the entertainment on stage—two of the stars of the night, since the posterboy (you) was on waiter duty—lines of white spread across tables and a dancefloor that was too crowded to even look past two feet in front of you. It was a jungle.

But for the past—wow, had it already been 4 years? Nevertheless, it was your jungle. Your domain, if you will. 

It was hard to imagine sometimes that all of this, the walls that stretched up past high heavens even to a second floor that was located above, with a perfect view of all the debauchery below and reserved for the more..exclusive members of the establishment. In reality—it was where business happened. Whether that be gambling among the pool tables, roulette tables, or even in the back where most of the real lounging and discussions took place with the fat and happy scumbags—it was strictly for business. 

Well..that and private shows. 

And with that particular call, you knew that you were being called for just that. By who? Oh, none other than the mastermind who’d made all of this possible in the first place. 

On your way up the lavish steps, you passed by the bar where Satoru had been cleaning off glasses. He wound up finding some way into the fray much later. After getting fired from his previous bartending job that ended under very..sudden circumstances. Regardless, he was still a thorn in your side, especially when you got chewed out by the ‘big man upstairs’. Leaning up against the bar, propped on your elbows, Satoru slid you two..‘specialty’ drinks that were usually a sign of a difficult deal. “Careful, I think Suguru might be using you as a bit of..collateral this time around.”

“Please, when is he not?” You’d mused.

He shrugged, putting the glasses on top of a mini tray. “Heard the guy he’s trying to slip into the lineup is a tough one to crack. It would be great for write-offs since it’s more of a..charity sort of thing. To put it safely.”

“Ah..guess I’ve got to show off a bit, huh?” Turning to face him, you blew a small kiss and he waved his hand, going back to the other people littered across the counter. You took that as your cue to drag the tray off the surface and up into your hands.

Of course, representation was everything. Every ounce of you had been perfectly molded and shaped by Suguru to be just what deserved the title of ‘posterboy’. So, even as you walked—all dolled up, head to toe in something that was, granted, much less showy than your performance attire, but still leaving just a bit to the imagination—you got stares, turning heads and waving to regulars that gave whistles of their own. You just had that effect.

With your 4-inch heels, beautifully decorated and wrapping halfway up your ankle, you ascended the steps with each graceful click of them. Soon, you reached the second floor and got a full view of the other high-end patrons that were indulging in the niceties. Slipping past them and maneuvering your way through the rowdy, drunk and high, you soon made it to the back room, concealed by a veil of velvet curtains and two security guards that immediately nodded toward you and pulled them back. There, you were met with a scene that..was unfortunately more common than anything.

Suguru, in all his glory—far more grown up now than when you’d met him in his early 20s—long, flowing, midnight-black locks that had long since reached past the middle of his back, adorned in the crispest attire that still just dripped with privilege and upper-class. Those glasses that have stood the test of time, now encrusted with finite diamonds at the hinges. Hair allowed to flow freely as he took a long drag from a cigarette that undoubtedly came from the open box laid out on the table, covered head to toe in full black—a button-down, tucked into the waistband that was sealed at the buckle by a Prada belt, loose St. Laurent pants, and a pair of Louis Vuitton combat boots to top it all off. To put it so shortly—he had grown into just a bit more of a show-off since your first meeting.

Though, no matter how gorgeous and well, damn near godsent he looked, there was no question that he was pissed.

It might’ve not been seen by the man across from him who wore a lazy expression, red-eyed and probably spewing out nonsense, but you’d grown to just know how to tell when Suguru’s buttons were being pushed. So, being the voice of reason, you plastered on that same show-stopping smile and gave just the slightest tilts of your head. “You summoned me, Geto?”

Like a switch had been flipped, Suguru raised his face up and behind you saw the vein that was throbbing in his temple go down. “Ah, there he is. My partner in crime, if you will. Come, you’ve brought something for this..” For a second, it looked like he was going to call him sorely out of his name, but instead he went with, “Gentleman.”

You gave a slight nod, sauntering over and setting the tray down on the table in front of the man, bending at just an angle to where the high-waisted leather shorts you were sporting allowed for a ‘better view’ for Suguru’s guest. He usually called on you to… ‘distract’ the clients. Coax a bit more into them than they’d usually go for, make deals sound all the more sweeter..a little guilt tripping here and there—all the while Suguru made the numbers happen, you moved them into place.

Once they were sat down neatly on the Mahogany, Suguru crooked a subtle finger at you, to which you took small strides and lowered yourself by his side, letting your legs fall cross at the ankles over his lap. He shot you a look, to which you cocked an eyebrow that asked, ‘What?’.

“Your shoes.”

Glancing down, you pulled a confused expression that was all too attitudinal. “What about them, sir?”

“I know you weren’t raised to put shoes on the furniture. Off. Don’t embarrass me in front of our client.” He said, reaching down to undo the ties under your calves, leaving them loose enough for you to slide them off.

You quickly shot off an eyeroll, reaching down to push your Manolo Blahnik’s off and onto the floor neatly, giving a scoff under your breath. He always got like this when you were in front of people—correction—when you were in front of possible business affiliates. Suguru was particular about details he typically let slide when it was just your own establishment members. 

But especially when they were out-of-country investors. You think he’d let some bad manners ruin his potential financial endeavors? Please. 

“Priss.” You lightly bit, leaning back until you were able to rest your elbow on the arm of the couch. 

Paying that comment no mind, Surguru looked back at the man who had lit up a puffing, angry cigar. “Right, right, so—I know your expansion progress is goin’ well. You’re one of the most connected in this city—you grew up here. But among connections, the many that you do have, there’s also the matter of keepin’ track of everything. To be a name in a sea of..other ones ‘n zeroes and a bus load of other stats just sounds like I’m settin’ myself up for bankruptcy.” 

“Well, I take care of that,” Geto finished off for him, scarcely too fast to have not sounded like a cut-off. “More like, my friend here does. We don’t blow over any of our..associates. Your charity business, along with the amounts we’ve been bringing in will not only boost our image but you get funds on the side.” Leaning back a bit, he added in just a slight inaudible, “More time for you to feed your bullshit savior complex and let us benefit from it.” The back of your hand lightly tapped against his chest—a silent signal that his bitchiness was showing. That got a mumbled complaint that missed your ears. Probably for the best.

“He’s right,” you chimed in. “I’ve been in this gig for a while now—business and etcetera for even longer. Trust me when I say this pretty face isn’t just for show. The brain behind it is just as flawless. Investing into us, with enough time, effort, and coinciding cooperation,” a glare off to Suguru. “Then I’m much more than positive that you and your charity will be in the safest of hands.”

You could see the smile that spread across the man’s face upon hearing your coercion. Even so, he went on to say, “I don’t know..putting my money into such..dainty hands…I think a bit more..convincing is in order.”

Scrunching your face just a bit, you felt Suguru pinch the side of your thigh. It was often that your expressions spoke much louder than your mouth and he knew that just as well. He didn’t need a dirty look scaring off a potential customer—oh, no, no—it’d be your ass on the line if that were to happen. “And..what might be able to convince you…further, sir?” You’d forced out with that same posterboard smile.

“I think we both know. I mean..c’mon, sweetheart. You said you’ve been in this business a while..lookin’ like that? There’s no way you haven’t..” trailing off, he made a crude gesture with his hands. “How do you say..‘fucked your way to the top’. That is..if your boss here isn’t opposed.”

“I am.” Butting in almost instantly after he finished, Suguru brushed your legs off of his lap, standing up to his full, towering height. “And frankly, I don’t think I or my friend here take kindly to such—honestly, nauseating—proposals from people that we’re looking for in a professional sense. Your manners are fucking deplorable and the fact you came here, got high, started talking business, just to end up with trying to get your dick wet is..how do you say.. ‘Not a good look.’”

Heaving a sigh of relief, you situated yourself, bringing another, more genuine, small, smile to yourself in the wake of Suguru’s interjection. You had begun to slide your heels back on, taking your time to lace the strings back up your calf. The man had set down the cigar that had been stinking up the room, some of the ash falling off with a tap against the glass table. “That’s..prostitution, is it not, sir?” You’d piped up, leaning back and crossing your legs loosely as you tilted your head toward him. 

“Clever boy—that it is. And..how would a charity owner look in the news if..word got out that he was propositioning such a thing..? In a place, such as this?”

Kissing your teeth in a tutting fashion, you shook your head along. “Not good at all.” 

You both shared a look. A look that you both knew alllll too well. The look that meant you’d just—in layman's terms—secured the bag.

The man blustered as he looked at Suguru who’d stubbed out his cigarette into the ashtray and discarded the remains in the decorative trash can beside the couch, giving another small whistle to you that you’d rolled your eyes at but rose to your feet anyhow. 

Gliding across the room easily, you’d pulled open the bottom drawer of the small file cabinet that was tucked away into the corner. It was surrounded by other mountains of paperwork but not to the point where you couldn’t access. Humming a tune under your breath, you’d sifted through and pulled out one of many clipboards that were already prepped with papers for just the thing. You briskly walked back over, setting the clipboard in his lap and along with it, you allowed yourself to drape over his shoulders.

“What..what are these..?” his bushy brows knitted together as he flipped through the small packet that had two sections. 

Guiding his hand, you leaned into his ear, whispering, “This section..is all NDA. Mine and my colleague’s name are already signed, you just have to put yours.”

“..And…the rest..?”

“Oh, well…that’s where you sign away 75%, of course.” you had said it like it was nothing but his eyes nearly popped out of his head as he got ready to shove the clipboard away.

Once again interrupting, Suguru purred, “I..wouldn’t throw that away so hastily, if I were you.”

“75%? Are you two out of your fucking heads!?” 

“A tad,” Suguru replied curtly, dipping his hands into the pockets of his St. Laurents, methodically picking up the box of cigarettes that had lain forgotten on the table, kicking out another dart. “But that’s besides my point. My point is—you’ve no choice, essentially. Just as easily as we can dip that back into our filing cabinet, signed and safe, we could, just as easily, burn it. NDA and all which..gives us ample space to run our mouths off to well..anyone about what transpired here. And oh..you know how people just love to talk around here.”

Leaning in closer, you slipped out the pen that was clasped within the iron grip that held the papers together, propping it in his hand. “What’ll it be? 75% of your profit or..100% of your dignity, class, status, reputation..future?”

You could visually see the sweat beads forming on the man’s forehead and how they dripped down his nose. Whether it was because of the lines he’d done previous to your arrival or the sheer weight of the decision he was making—his stress was painfully obvious.

Though, you two must’ve struck a chord, given how he clicked out the pen tip and dragged his hand across all lines on the paper. NDA, profit as well as confidentiality of agreement. God knows if he bothered to read any sort of fine print. To go just an extra, petty mile, you placed a kiss on his cheek and cooed, “Good boy.” slipping off of him and back at Suguru’s side as the man cursed.

He had clearly overstayed his welcome, so, he stood up and Suguru outstretched his hand. Begrudgingly, the man took up the handshake firmly and rather aggressively. Settling his ruffled hair and the suit that looked like it would burst at the seams with any other huffs or puffs from him, the man stormed out of the room, “Pleasure doing business with you.” you and Suguru had chimed as he left. His face had been red with embarrassment, anger and just overall distress and soon enough, he disappeared behind the curtains. 

Sighing heavily, you’d flopped back down onto the couch, this time fully laying out and propping your feet up on the arm. “God, he smelled like alcohol and depression.” you’d remarked, closing your eyes with another hefty exhale.

“Those are typically the easiest to sway,” Suguru gave back, moving to sit down on the edge of the table, sliding the lighter there up into his palm and slipping a cigarette in between your lips. You closed your mouth around it, adjusting the tip with your fingers before feeling bits of hair falling over your face that weren’t your own. Slowly opening your eyes, you saw him perched over you, nudging the end of his cigarette against yours. “Need a light?” 

Obviously you did, so, he brought the flame between you two, holding it steady until both of yours lit up. You breathed in the smoke and just as you did, he slid onto the floor, keeping his elbow dug in beside your head. Uncomfortable with the position, you shifted onto your side, blowing the smoke in the opposite direction of his face, just as he did the same for you.

“Though..I am curious about one thing, though,” he’d begun, resting the side of his face in his palm. 

“Which isss..?” 

“Don’t..take this the wrong way,” already, the precursor had you cocking an eyebrow. “Why..are you so hesitant to sleep with…well, anyone?” taking another drag, he puffed out small clouds as he spoke next. “You’ve got the charm, you’ve got the eyes, the lips..the body, in general and I know anyone would die to get a taste of my most prized..”

“Possession?” you’d finished off for him. Looking askance for a moment, he shrugged it off, seemingly a silent agreement. “Well..it’s prostitution.”

Scoffing, he rolled his eyes. “Not if you don’t get paid for it.” 

You sat up a bit straighter, bringing yourself up to a sitting position looking down on him for a time being as you rested your leg on his shoulder, breathing in a longgg inhale of the burning leaves. “And why are you so curious, huh? You’re my employer—not my ‘friend’ as you so candidly put it in front of our guest. Much less any sort of partner or..person of interest.”

“Call it simple curiosity,” he brushed off, switching hands with his own cigarette and once again, stubbing it out on the ashtray, only to leave it there instead of fully discarding. “But..in my eyes? I think you’re just a prude.”

Now that got your attention even more. Those deep violets were boring up into yours and you found yourself tipping his head back so that the contact remained on an elevated level—on his part. “What makes you think that? The fact that I’m not opening my legs up for the first person who asks for it? Please. Those are called standards. High ones. I just..haven’t met someone who’s met them.”

“Then..wait. You..have fucked before, is what you’re saying?” Harsh, harsh silence ensued and with each passing moment, you watched his expression gradually come down to that of understanding. Then, it shifted to mild disbelief. “No. Fucking. Way. You’re a virgin? After..how many years? Never even..I don’t know, tried fellatio? Given, received—”

“No, Suguru! God. Why do you have to be so fuckin’ pushy all the time?” You attempted to slide your leg off of his shoulder, but a hand was already holding it there. Not moving, poking or prodding, just holding. “I’ve never done..any of that. And it’s not something I want to talk about. Especially not with you.”

A slight huffing fit and you ultimately turned your head off to the side, taking an angered drag to your almost-burnt-out dart. “I’m pushy because you make me push. You never give up information easily, you just hint at it, never elaborate and expect me to move on—it’s a common theme, regardless of context. You’re just pissy because I’m making you confront something that you didn’t want to. Once again, being a pussy.”

“Oh yeah? Then why the fuck are we still talking? Huh? You got the information you wanted, you have successfully pissed me off, you got your deal for the night and yet you’re still right here, running. Your. Mouth.” you’d hiss, finally coming to make eye contact once more. With each insult, each snide and snippy remark, you felt his fingers tightening on your leg in a subconscious manner. 

With a final adjusting of the set his jaw was at, he gave a soft wry. Truly, if getting under your skin was an Ivy League competition—he’d win first place every time. “Come shut it then. Since you’re the big and bad adult virgin, then you can actually do something about it, right? You can stop being all whiny, stop bitching and moaning about shit never changing and actually put some actions behind your baseless words for once. Go on. I’m all ears, let’s see how you try to sweet talk your way out of growing a pair. Again.”

You were thoroughly flustered at his prompt, taking a glance over at the drawn curtains and then back at him with a look that was a bit short of confused. “I..”

“You?”

“We haven’t even..closed up yet. We have a whole busload of patrons right outside of those curtains, drinking and smoking and doing whatever the fuck and you decide that now is a good time to try and jeer me out of my virginity? What makes you think you’re even the type I go for? Is it just that big ass ego talking, again?”

Seeming to have gotten just relatively annoyed, Suguru had pulled you a bit further off of the couch, bringing your leg to rest on his hip as he leaned in to loom over you. “Look at that—more excuses,” a deadly cold tone in his voice, hands now planting against the back of the couch, he stared down at you with a mix of heavyset irritation and rolled his tongue over the backs of his teeth—a habit. “First the fuck of all,”

“It’s a strip club, a night club at that, of course we’re not closing anytime soon. Second of all, I don’t have to persuade or coax or jeer you out of jack shit—you’re too smart and too stubborn for that. If I want something from someone, I’ll take it when they give it up and never a minute sooner or later. And as for me knowing I’m your type,” he took the time to pull your chin up into his hand, smirking down at your adorable, seething, angry expression. “Eyes talk. They talk loud.”

“Can you hear mine saying, ‘fuck you’ right now?”

“Boy, please. More like asking me to fuck you.” he immediately shot back.

That was one thing that you two leveled on—the levels of attitude and pure sass that flowed between your interactions. It was what made you two such repelling forces at times. Both your greatest strengths and the ultimate downfall that wound you both up at each other’s throats. God help anyone who was caught in the fray.

You made no move to jerk your face away or even move at all…so he did.

The same hand that held your face snaked a thumb into your mouth and every instinct inside you screamed to bite down. But as if he read your mind, “Don’t even think about biting me. You’re the younger but you can still get handled like you’re as grown as you like to fuckin’ act.” he warned, low and sharp. And you knew he meant every word of it.

Tasting of misplaced tobacco and his hand lotion—cedar and vanilla—you reluctantly analyzed the flavor that his finger painted your tongue with. In turn, he let his thumb slip deeper into your saliva-slick cavern, pressing up against your cheeks, down on your tongue, running along the edges of your teeth and after a bit, you’d become a bit pliant to it, letting your jaw slack in time when he pulled at your bottom lip. “Tongue out.”

Complying, you rolled your tongue out of your mouth and you watched as he leaned down to your level, smiling languidly at your pouting face. “Tell me, spitfire. If I’m sooo not your type, then why haven’t you pulled back? Why haven’t you pushed me off? We both know that if you had really wanted to bite, then you would have.”

“I just..”

“Just..what? Realized that you’re full of shit? It’s not that hard to recognize when someone has feelings for me, y’know. I’m not nearly as dense as you perceive me to be,” With that, he got lower, sliding his hand down to where it was perched beside your head. In time, his knee came to part your thighs slightly as he breathed in every breath you drew out. Holding there, staring so intently into your slitted eyes, he closed the distance. 

He searched for any sign that you hated it, any fight left behind your eyes as his tongue worked its way into your mouth—dominating the exchange easily as it pushed deeper into your awaiting maw. Easily, you could feel the tip of it tickling the roof of your mouth, coming down to twist and suck on your own. All the while, he’d kept his eyes open, glued onto your own until they finally closed and ultimately succumbed to the welcomed invasion. 

It was hot, sloppy, almost and you could’ve sworn he tasted so much like nectar that, if you’d wanted to, you could bottle it up and sell it as the finest honey. Almost intoxicating. In the way he drifted his hand down to the hinges of your jaw, the way he was groaning into the kiss, the way his tongue slipped and slid against yours in a sticky cacophony. You felt like you were getting drunk off of it..and that was in a literal sense.

After a few minutes of this, of stolen breaths, you could already feel your body temperature rising. At an unnatural rate. Heaving a few breaths, you wiped off your mouth and lifted the remaining mixture of your saliva to sniff it. It..did smell sweet.

“Did you just..fucking drug me, Geto?” 

Shaking his head lightly, you heard a laugh of true amusement escape him. “Not..exactly.”

“Don’t be vague with me, prick. What did you..do..?” In regards to your question, you readily clammed up your thighs, only to be paused by the intrusion of one of his own between them. 

“Pfft- I kissed you, obviously,” Looking over you, his eyes landed on what had prompted your question in the first place. “Oh. Are you..”

Flushing almost instantly, you shoved his face to the side lightly. “Don’t..stare. It’s rude.”

“Ha, I’m rude now, huh? You’re the one who can’t handle a little makeout session without getting a hard-on. But, by all means; let’s stop here. I’ll walk out of this room and you can go right ahead and stay here, rub one out allll on your lonesome and we can pretend this never even happened,” He brought you hand back down, nailing it against the plush of the couch cushion as he pressed his lips up against the shell of your ear. “You can go back to being nothing but a fucking tease—flaunting off what you never plan on giving up because..you’re too scared to. Doesn’t that just sound like the perfect, unfulfilled and empty little life you’ve always dreamt of?”

 You were more than pissed off, shaking him away from your ear to where you thudded your forehead against his, noses just short of brushing against each other as you glared at him with fire and embers crackling in your irises. “Fuck you. Seriously, fuck you. You think that you’re so much better than me because you’ve gotten your dick wet?”

“Among others.”

The slightest twitch of your eyebrow and you dragged him in with a nipping of his bottom lip. “Then let me prove you wrong. If you think that I’m too pussy to do something, then let me prove you dead wrong. I’ll let you fuck me and I’ll own that shit. I’ll own you. You arrogant, stuck-up, egotistical assho—” another cutoff, and this time, he was on you. 

In complete and total honesty, he tuned you out at ‘I’ll let you fuck me’ and whatever else was meaningless. Fumbling around with the laces he’d undone so easily on your calves before, he pulled them loose and slipped one off before sending you both down into the couch with ease. Kissing down your jawline, hair draping over your chest as he did so, he hastily tugged at the strings of the other before it gave and you readily kicked it off to the floor where it landed with a thump.

Once your legs were bare, he ran his hands up until they landed on your thighs, resting them there and just kneading the soft skin between his fingers, just getting a good feel for you as he leaned down to tug the hem your crop up, using his tongue to shove it into your mouth where he breathlessly commanded, “Hold.” and you readily obliged. Your teeth came down to do exactly as you were told and keeping your eyes on his every move, you watched Suguru kiss down the middle of your chest, paying so much attention that you were caught so off guard when he started biting. 

Not just one, not two, not three but half-near a dozen wherever it was blank enough. From your flushed red nipples that he teased mercilessly with his tongue, only to sink his..abnormally sharp teeth into one, lapping at the bits of red that blossomed from the small incisions—dragging his face over to repeat the steps all over again.

From your ribs to your sides, to your hips which he had to drag your shorts to aside for—he was marking you the fuck up. But oh, you didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop, to tell him that it hurt when his canines sunk a centimeter too deep—oh no, you were loving every second. The delicious mix of pleasure-pain that danced and prickled your skin was too good to give up. So much so that you’d begun to do the work on your own, bringing both of your hands up to your pebbled protrusions, pinching and rubbing in alternating doses to try and imitate the feeling that his mouth had placed there previously.

Other than the heavy breathing fits coming from the both of you, the room was relatively quiet. Only the sounds of the other club members cutting up and acting a plum fool were available for any auditory distraction. It was easy to get lost in it before you’d felt your waistband being tugged on. Not completely coming down but just so to where he could get a fair look at your happy trail.

That was when he placed a hickey right under your belly button, dipping lower to the flat valley between either of your hips to give yet another bite. But..this one, this one was so much different. 

He’d held his face there, gaining a hold on your hips that was nearly bruising and weird enough..it felt like he was pumping something into you. A weird surge of energy that you could’ve sworn you felt directly shooting up your tailbone and creating a deep pool of heat at the source. “F-fuck..! That feels..mhn~” still, he held his face there and the longer he did, the longer that…that feeling started to burn. 

Dead silent, save for the soft sucking sounds he made with each kiss of his lips that rained on that same spot, Suguru stayed planted right there. He began to rub soothing circles on your sides and by that time, your stomach was searing. A foreign sort of sensation that had your hand drifting down to fist his hair, trying to tug him off for just a moment, just a minute to breathe through it. Allowing no such thing, Suguru gave a gentle grunt against your skin and you felt his teeth sink impossibly deeper into your pelvis. Then, right then was where it had bordered on painful and that final crackle of pressure and electricity was sent barrelling up your spine in a way that sent a strained, throaty groan tumbling from your lips.

Shifting his focus, one of his hands traveled back up, covering your mouth up which you had no choice but to moan into, letting some of the saliva gathering at the corners of your lips spread across his palm. Your free hand was up on his wrist in an instant—not tugging him away but just holding it for dear life as the pain set in. It was only a moment, you swore, that your eyes tore off of his mouth and its ministrations, head sent to fall back into the arm of the couch, before the haze began to cloud your vision.

Your body becoming more pliant in his hand, Suguru finally pulled off with a hum of approval. “Thaat’s it..you alright there? Aw, you must be so confused, huh? Mr. Knoitall, not knowing a single thing about what’s going on around him, about what’s happening to him. So frustrating, isn’t it?” he’d teased, rubbing over that same spot where his mouth had previously been and using his grip on either of your cheeks to tilt your gaze down. And even in the state of yours that was bordering on delirious, you could see it.

Branded on your skin like some lame temporary tattoo, was a..a sigil..? No, no..more like a binding seal, covered up by pretty twists and turns, topped off with a black heart, scrawled with the faintest of glows to it. You began to panic, obviously, but the majority of your focus was drawn to the pure headrush you’d gotten from the action of him planting it there. That wasn’t it, that wasn’t even half of it.

Right before your eyes, you witnessed something you’d only heard or seen in shitty porn flicks and fantasy novels; Suguru, in all of his stoic, laidback, seemingly harmless—heavy on the ‘seemingly’—had begun to..to change. Into something…not even of this world. 

Thick, black horns, sprouting from the roots of his inky locks, curling in on themselves until they sat so perfectly on the top of his head. A set of teeth that actually matched the previous bites you’d felt, now decorating the inside of his mouth, sharpened nails that now started to dig into your cheeks, just short of breaking skin, and what took the cake was that winding, thin, tail—finishing at the end with a perfect point. 

Suguru smiled devilishly at the way your expression shifted from that of utterly entranced in your own bodily heat and flush to one of panic and deadly realization. This entire time, the past four years, you were..well, fucking with a demon. Not just in the sense of his personality, not just in the way he had climbed the ranks of the underground business world, not just in how he so so easily could talk his way out of any sort of trouble—a literal demon. In every sense of the word. “Fuck, I’ve waited too long for this. For you. I’m genuinely surprised it took you this long to piece together,”

“It took so much warming up to, so much..naïve trust, so many stupid nights spent listening to you ramble on, and on and on about your shitty romantic luck with these lowlife humans, so many numbers upon numbers forged and carefully curated together for us to get..here,” he spoke as if he was some sort of grand adventurist, some deep sea diver who had finally come up on Atlantis. “Did you have fun? Playing this game with me, rising above all the rest with me, building a goddamn empire with me, with you as the eye of the storm I was creating?”

Leaning down, he saw how your eyes had widened up with fear, not at all quelled by the new realm of heat and desire that flowed freely through your veins like the finest of drugs. And only then, seeing that unfamiliar sight, the way you were mentally slipping from his grasp, only then did he drop his voice back down to a purr, pressing his hand just a bit harder against your mouth as you struggled with wrapping your head around it all. “Hey, heyy, calm the fuck down. It’s too much to explain, not enough time nor..privacy to get into details, but I assure you, I’m not here to hurt you.”

Obviously, your eyebrows fell at a slant—he had to be lying..right? 

“Come on. Wise up, will you? If I wanted to hurt you, to wreck your life, to bring you to your knees..I would have done so by now. While I did..withhold the truth for a minute there..I came clean, didn’t I? I’m still the same man you met that day..” he breathed, coming in closer to your face, leaving enough distance to where you could see nothing past his dark tresses and those pretty, pretty amethysts. “The man who convinced you to go on this journey..the man you trusted enough to dive head first into this with, the man who fucking made you. Remember that, honey?”

Searching your eyes for the same fight that had lingered just a moment, he saw it dimming and along with that, felt your breathing evening out—well, as much as it could with the effects of his aphrodisiac-riddled tongue still laying waste. “Yeahhh, yeah you do. I know you do. So..promise me something, won’t you? I’m going to take my hand off and you’re not going to scream. That’s a promise. Isn’t it?”

Nodding slowly, you had to will yourself to accept the reality of your position. And just as both of you promised—his hand was off of you and your vocal track was still. “There we go..I guess you do know how to shut the fuck up. When it counts, at least.”

“I..I don’t…understand.” you’d simpered off.

“And you don’t need to. But for a basic rundown, I’m an incubus. Sent here to Earth to satiate the darkest and most carnal parts of human existence. Typically, though..we hop from person to person but..you,” licking a stripe up from the side of your throat, all the way up to your ear once more, he finished, “You were so worth the wait.”

It was easy for that to elicit the smallest of whimpers from you, given your heightened state of arousal and general sensitivity. “Getting to know you, see how you operate, how you tease, how you taunt, how you work, how you tick..it’s things like that which make the moment of climax, of unraveling you to the fullest and deepest extent that an incubus should strive for. Taking my time with you was the best decision of my fucking career. Because well, haha, look at you now.” Your cheeks turned that deep shade of rose and once again, you were looking up at him in a manner that was just too hard to even peel his gaze off of. “So..what about..that?” you’d gestured down to where the tattoo was embedded into your skin and back up to him. “Is it..permanent…?” 

“God no,” he laughed. “There’s just..one way to get rid of it.”

“Which is..?”

Suguru took a moment to wrap your legs up around his waist, creating a slow grind of friction between both of your aching erections, sadly confined by the layers of fabric that marred them. “Letting me cum deep inside this pretty fuckin’ body. Letting me be the first to taint you, letting me take you to heights that your beautiful mind hasn’t even thought to fathom before..letting me fuck you full until you can’t take it anymore. Then and only then, will you be rid of that pesky mark. Be rid of that burning need you feel in your core.”

“Then what the fuck are you waiting for?” the speed at which the words came from your mouth left both of you just a bit stunned. He hadn’t expected you to give such a brazen and honest cajole into what he wanted and you didn’t realize until you said it just how badly you craved it. In your head, maybe you’d reasoned that it was just the influence of the mark, of the aphrodisiac-soaked kisses but..

You’d be a filthy liar if you said you hadn’t been thinking about something under the same notes from the day you laid eyes on him. 

Now, though, it was anyone’s game. And Suguru took that and bolted.

Within seconds, he had reached down, gathering your legs into his arms as he pulled your shorts and smallclothes up and over your skin with ease, exposing your most intimate areas to the cold, unforgiving air of the A/C unit, sliding his hand right back between your thighs, only now, his fingers were wrapping around your leaking shaft, using precision to build a gentle rhythm for the idle handjob he was giving you. 

It was so simple but it felt worlds different than when you did it on your own. His hand was larger, covered more ground with less effort and if compared, it was slightly rougher which made it easy to create friction. Your hands fell back over your mouth as you took in the details that were producing the repeated squelching sounds ringing out into the air. “Damn, you really are a virgin, huh? Aww, is the sensitivity getting to you that bad? You’re dripping like a faucet down here..” his actions were dirty but his mouth was just downright nasty.

Amid every pass of his hand, you felt your thighs trembling around his wrist, making your eyes flutter as you neatly rested your head back against the couch once again. It wasn’t a surprise when you heard his belt coming undone, snapping your sights back to where he’d slid the Prada out of its comfy holsters and let it slip onto the floor with a series of clinks. His free hand, taking initiative, slid his pants down just enough for his hardened length to spring up, eager and waiting—despite how he had been teasing you about the way you were spilling out, he was barely any better. The tip of his cock was just drooling, offering enough for him to slick his hand up from base to tip, twisting on the upstroke. A mirror of what his other was doing to you.

Another minute or so and he had begun to feel how you twitched and tensed in his grip, seemingly growing harder as he sped up. But what he also noticed was how your voice was slipping. Now that was a definite no-go. For as much of an exhibitionist as he was, it wasn’t really on his bingo card to get caught. Not like this. So what did he do? The only thing that he found logical of course.

His fingers let go of you, leaving you to shudder and whine for a moment as per the loss of stimulation. Setting your legs back down neatly onto the couch, he took another second to hop off of the couch, coming to the head of it where your pretty face lay, all unassuming and just begging for the next high of physicality that you could reach. It wasn’t long before he was gently tapping his fat tip against your slightly parted lips, smirking down at you as you saw the way his tail mildly whipped behind him. “Hey..I know you’re not a fan of getting caught in the moment…I can’t say I am either. I also know how desperate you are to make a mess on my hand, so..how about we kill two birds with one..stone?” punctuating his words, he just barely nudged his cock between your lips.

You could taste the pre that ran off of it and your heart was just racing at the idea of it. Right here, right now, he wanted you to suck him dry whilst he jerked you off…with who knows how many people just a few yards away. Though..coming from him..right now? It didn’t sound bad at all.

Giving a coy nod, you watched his eyes light up as he came to lean over you more properly once again. Slowly, steadily, he eased inch by inch into your mouth, gaining a new hold on your hardness that stood at attention, pleading for his attention. “Wider,” he instructed. “I shouldn’t feel your teeth.” Trying your best, you made your lips stretch obscenely around his shaft, pulling your lips in just a bit to make up for the distance you couldn’t open up. “Theree you go. Just keep your..hah, mouth open, just like that. Let me do alll the work.” followed by a strained groan, you felt his hand start to move along your own length, multitasking as he fully reached the back of your mouth.

Expecting him to pull it out before you lost your breath, you were surprised when he..didn’t. Your hands came up to his thighs, just barely splaying before he was hissing out another command. “Hands off. Relax. Relax your throat, swallow around me,” guiding your movements, he brought his free up under your neck, feeling exactly where he was nestled in so snugly. A teasing roll of his hips and Suguru felt you starting to obey. “Ahh..thaat’s right. Breathe through your nose, don’t worry about moving just..just let me..fuck..” his words fell short as he shifted his hold from your neck to the back of your head, snaking his fingers through your hair as he held you there.

Along with that, he’d continued the shlicking of his hand up and down your cock, feeling how the beads of pre rolled off. Suguru’s thumb swiped across your slit, pressing down as he methodically moved it back and forth there and among the dual focus, he got a wicked idea. 

Still, slowly pistoning his hips in and out of the constricting cavern of your mouth, he slithered his tail up to coil around your shaft, creating a bit of spring action in the way it stroked you off. It was so much different from his hand, a tighter hold but just as easily gliding over your sensitive skin in a way that felt way too good. 

Your head was just swimming—mouth full of cock, your own being handled with the most care you’d ever felt, struggling to register everything—and Suguru leaned back just a bit, reveling in the way your moans sent vibrations reverberating up his girth. This angle let him get even deeper into your throat, just so that slight upward curve could tickle your uvula in a way that would’ve triggered your... “Shit, no gag reflex? You really are wasted potential..fuckin’ incarnated,” he groaned breathily, continuing to let his hips swing back and forth, hitting the back of and pushing just past the opening of your esophagus with each pass. “Look at me, pretty. Lemme see how you look while I’m fuckin’ this gorgeous face..c’mon..”

Prompted and complying, your tear-stricken eyes looked back up at him, vision mildly blurred by the saltwater that marred them and threatened to spill over. Though, what Suguru had not anticipated was just how divine you looked with him down your throat. How your cheeks were all puffed out, the low-lidded eyes you were giving him, how utterly pathetic you looked—it took him a minute to realize that you were, in fact, just getting close. Precariously close to a climax with how his tail had sped up its spring coil rhythm. Suguru, so caught up in his own pleasure he hadn’t even realized how his body was reacting and affecting yours in return.

“F-fuck..I’m..” he brought his other hand over, lacing it through your hair to gain a better grip on your head as he quite literally forced you to deepthroat him. Again and again, deeper than before, he dug his cock into your throat to the point where your nose would be mushed against his pelvis, tickled by the wiry hairs surrounding the base. He was getting vocal with it, but then again, so were you. 

Choking and sputtering around him to the point where drool had coated every section of his pulsing dick, messily coating your lips and spilling out onto the cushion of the couch. That of which your hands had been holding onto dear life to, nails digging into the fabric as you felt your own impending release building up. “Nghh..~ ‘M gonna fuckin’ cum..” he announced, completely unaware of how his grip on your hair and his tail’s on your shaft tightened. “Swallow..swallow every last d-drop of me.. If you waste any, I’ll keep goin’ ‘till neither of us can take it..” 

Of course, he didn’t really mean it..or, that’s what you told yourself at least, for a fleeting moment. Though, almost nothing mattered in the next few moments as you felt that tight coil in your stomach finally snap and cause the first drops of your release to begin dripping onto the couch cushions before your hips were full on writhing, rutting against nothing but air as your load was sent covering up your stomach and thighs, leaving you panting and desperate for any breath of oxygen you could get.

Eyes rolling just enough to create a tension at the front of your head, Suguru angled in all the way, dragging your mouth fully down onto his cock as he found his own climax deep within the confines of your mouth. Your lips were practically kissing his pelvic arch as you fell slack in his grasp. His head fell back and you felt the moment the first hot rope was shot down your throat, could feel it in how his balls twitched and came in close to his body, completely emptying himself out. 

“Mhmm..swallow it…drink it all down..my gift..from me, to you,” he rambled, grinding his hips up against your face and riding out both of your orgasms until you were both left in a relative mess. After he made sure to finish up properly, he let his softening cock slip out from your mouth, leaving you to cough and reflexively swallow repeatedly. His tail allowed your own respite as it loosened and finally fell away. “I think I’m actually glad I didn’t let that old fuck get his hands on you before me.” he chuckled dryly, running a hand through the hairs that had fallen out of place.

After regaining your composure, you’d look up at him and then down to the mess that you’d made of well..yourself. Suguru had flicked his tail around, looking at what you’d left behind and smiled that small grin you’d grown so accustomed to. “What? You did that.”

“B-because..” you had brought a hand up to your throat, realizing you were being too hasty with how raw it felt already. Dramatics..were always in your deck of cards. “You didn’t..the mark is..still there.”

“Oh, well..” Suguru stalked ever closer, cupping your spit and tear-drenched face, licking away at a tear track before chuckling darkly in response to your only concern after everything that had just transpired. “Guess we’re not done here yet, then. Huh?”

        ⋆⁺₊⋆ —————⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰————— ⋆⁺₊⋆

“Come the fuck on, you call that riding?” Suguru had lightly jeered from under you, feet fully planted on the ground as you squirmed every so often on his lap. It had only been a few minutes since you’d even taken the whole thing. All 8.2, now tightly hugged by your velvety insides. The only reason he’d given the courtesy of letting you get on top was because..it was your first time. And he knew better than anyone how ‘out of hand’ he could get when it came to fucking. 

But fuck was it hard not to just start thrusting up into you without any warning, to listen to the yelps that you’d let out, how you’d let the whole damn establishment know who was impaling you on their cock, to let every scumbag, gambler, addict, slut, whore within the walls of the place know—you were his. Though, he didn’t want to scare you off, didn’t want to have to hear your fucking mouth after the fact, and so, here he was, staring up at your flushed face as you basically—little less than—cockwarmed him.

“I’m..t-tryin’, Sugu..~” you’d complained, stirring your hips in a small circle that gave you more than enough insight as to what you were getting into. “Not my fault you’re so..”

A grind up had you sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, immediately stifling the moan that was about to pour out. “Big? Yeah, I know. But seriously, you’re killing me here. I get first-time jitters but..” trailing off, Suguru couldn’t help but finally register what you’d called him. “Wait, wait, say that again?”

“N-not my fault..?”

“Before that.” 

Pulling a slight pout, you huffed out. “Sugu..?” Oh, if it wasn’t hard before, that particular whine of his name was enough for him to throw just a bit of caution to the wind. That he did, given how he’d started creating his own circles with his hips, grinding up into you and just memorizing each and every ridge that made your tight channel so damn visceral. 

“Yeahh, keeep callin’ me that. It sounds so fuckin’ right on your lips,” he panted, adjusting his grip on your hips to guide your hesitant movements, making them bolder, deeper, sooo much fucking deeper than you’d initially intended. “Hey, put your head on my shoulder, arch your back more. I want to try somethin’ out..”

You were just happy he was giving you a new method to keep your voice down that wouldn’t involve having to swallow your own blood, so, following his words to the letter, you let your head fall forward, adjusting to where your face was nuzzled into the side of his neck comfortably. His cologne still lingered, even in the midst of your coupling. It wasn’t too bad that you greedily drank in the scent, mildly just disguised as being out of breath.

Tranquility being relatively snapped, you felt his hands sliding down your arms, slowly, caressing before he guided them to gather right about your tailbone. Confused, you began to peek your head up, but you got a clue real fuckin’ quick. His tail had curled around your wrists, threading through as he held your arms there long enough for him to get a secure hold on you—long enough for him to take the reins on this ride.

“Much fuckin’ better..now, try to keep your voice down, yeah? If you cause a scene..anyone could just peek riiight through those curtains,” he leaned in to nip at your ear, letting a rumbling laughter escape him. “And see how much of a needy slut you are for me. Wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Blushing more than you cared to admit, you found yourself shaking your head in response. He took up your face in his hand again, directing your gaze right into his. “Words.”

“N-no..no we wouldn’t.”

“What’s my name?”

Shrinking in on yourself a bit, you pulled what had to be the most adorable expression of embarrassment Suguru had ever seen on anyone. All the more sweeter was seeing it on your face. “Suguru..” you’d whimper out in response. Well, you never had to tell him twice when it came to something he already wanted to do.

“Good fuckin’ boyyy,” he almost growled against your skin, starting up his own pace inside of you. Oh, when he started moving—letting the fat crown of his cock pummel its way through your narrow heat, you almost immediately fell forward once more, burying your face right back where it belonged. “Aw, can you feel it?”

You nodded, letting your fingers clench and unclench behind your back, digging into your palms, only to leave crescents in their wake when you relaxed them again. In no time at all, he was holding you up, a firm hold under each junction where your ass and thighs connected, bringing you up and down, up and downn, each time prompting another choked up moan to escape your lips. “Keep it down.” he chided, to which you smothered your mouth against the side of his neck.

Suguru leaned back a bit, taking you with him as he continued his ministrations. You could hear the ragged edge building in his breath as he stirred up your innards, picking up the depth and with it, the intensity—deep, looongg strokes that felt like they were in your fucking stomach at some points. At a certain threshold, you’d had to simply bite down on the crevice of his neck and shoulder, causing a slightly pained hiss to leave him, steadily dulled out by a series of efforting grunts. 

“Sugu-ru..~” you mewled out in between the continuous, upward drive of his hips. “.. ‘M gonna..c-cum again..~” 

“Like hell you are,” he replied curtly. You felt his tail tighten around your wrists and alongside it, his hold on you. “Cumming on my cock, without my permission? That shit doesn’t even sound right,” elaborating further, he punctuated his point by speeding up his pace and instead of moving you, he kept you hovering above him as he fucked up into you at an angle that gave him ample opportunity to drive you wild. “Fuckin’..mhn..~ Hold it. Hold it in and if you can’t, then I guess I’ll fuck you until you get it through your head. Understood?” Frantically, you nodded your head, a breathy series of whines following suit. “Words, slut.”

“Ahh~! Y-yes, Suguru..nghh, fuuckk..~!” voice cracking on the last syllable, you fell back into him, already feeling the haze gracing your eyes due to the way he was fucking bullying your prostate, drawing out strained ‘oohs’ and ‘oh, fuck’s each time he would draaagg himself in and out. Consequences be damned, you knew at least someone had already heard you. 

If not you, then him. “Shiiit, it’s like you were fuckin’—fuck..~ Made for this. Uhuhh, made to take every inch of this dick, made to just go braindead on my dick. Mhmm, no more backtalk, no more fuckin’ attitude. Just how it should always be..” just absolutely rambling. In your own fucked-out state of mind, his words barely even registered, barely even clicked but this was his way of coping with..you.

Coping with how ungodly perfect you felt wrapped around him, your walls fluttering and clenching down on him, sucking him back in each time he pulled out. Like your body was screaming, just to make up for what your mouth wasn’t currently allowed to fulfill. 

His hand found its way through your hair again, this time, tugging your head back with a yank that exposed your throat sooo nicely, that brought your face right above his, letting him lean in to paint any parts of your blank canvas with more hickeys, more straight up bite marks that he didn’t even bother to lick back up. He knew you were too gone to care. Too cockdrunk to properly comprehend anything around you, let alone a little bit of pain. 

Right on the edge, he held you there for what felt like millenia before you felt the stutter of his own hips, felt his fingers tightening in the roots of your hair, heard his sharp inhales and exhales as he fucked you both ever closer to the second climax of the night. You knew that you wouldn’t last much longer, not with the arch your back felt permanently stuck at, not with how he was hitting that spot like it was a goddamn golden buzzer on AGT, not with how your cock had just been crying onto his lap, messing up his poor, poor button-down. Good thing the man seemed to not know that other colors existed on the spectrum besides monochrome.

“Pleaseee..~ Fuckin’ p-please, I’m so..ngh~!” you’d cried out through your teeth, arms already straining against the bind they were in, only to be pulled right back down into place by his tail coiling ever-tighter around your wrists. “God, please..!”

Suguru knew exactly what you meant. He knew what you needed. He knew what you fuckin’ yearned for that only he could give you. “Beg. Beg for me to let you spill your load alll over my lap, to f-fucking..dirty up my couch, to let go, to feel that rush—beg for it.”

“I already—ahh..~!”

“You can do better than that. So much..haah~ fuckin’ better..” 

The coil in your stomach wasn’t matching up with the speed at which your mouth was moving, so, in a last, desperate attempt to just get what you needed, you wound up saying ‘fuck it’ to trying to keep your voice down. “Pleasee, Suguru~ Please, I’ll b-be so fuckin’ good f-for you, just..please~! Make me cum..~ L-let me cum, please, God, please~”

“There he is,” he huffed in response, sending both of your lips crashing together, doing very minimal damage control on the fact that everyone outside, without a shadow of a doubt just heard you beg Suguru to cum like your life depended on it. But..who fucking cares? You sure didn’t, not with how your own hips had begun to swing and grind in tandem with his, trying to match his rhythm as your orgasm was sent over you in harsh, shuddering waves.

You felt the moment the coil snapped, felt the very instant that you came undone in his arms, all of your cries and sounds of pure ecstasy being swallowed up greedily by Suguru as he took one final, deep thrust up into you, simultaneously slamming you down to the hilt in a way that shook you down to the marrow as your seed painted over his chest and lap in a descending incline.

As you rode out yours, his own frothy load started to flood your insides, filling you up to the brim as he fucked it back into you, coming to a gradual stop—not before giving you a small taste of overstimulation, giving a grinding against the plush of your ass that had now basically swallowed his cock whole. After just a few pulses, it was seeping out of you, dripping down your thighs and coating his own balls in the remains of both of your intense bodygasms. 

Once he was sure that he’d given alll that he so generously offered up to you, he allowed his tail to release its hold on your wrists, having left red indents where its hold had previously been. Bringing your arms up to wrap around his neck, you slumped into his chest, heaving a heavy, contented sigh. It took him a minute to realize that the dampness on his chest wasn’t just your cum that had stained it but your own salty droplets.

“Why the tears..? Was that..” his voice had dropped to one of reluctant concern, and the vice-like grip he had on your hair before, loosened, leaving him to idly card his fingers through. Waiting patiently for your response, he made no move to even pull out, or even..get out of this moment with you. Not having to hear your voice droning on or nagging was a rarity, afterall.

Giving yourself a moment, you pulled back, wiping off your eyes with the heel of your palm, sniffling in just a bit. “I’m just..really glad it was you…” you’d admitted softly, seeing the faintest red tinge Suguru’s cheeks. 

“Don’t go..getting all soft on me, now. I just..hate seeing all of..you go to waste. I told you since..the day I met you, in fact. Remember?” his voice was missing that sharp edge that had been so present just moments ago—it could’ve very well been traced to the fact that he was literally still going soft inside of you but you decided to take it as a sign that you had made some kind of newfound progress in your relationship. “You deserve to be treated, to be valued, to be fucked by someone who sees the fact that you rise above..all this shit.”

Letting your head loll into his palm, Suguru slipped his hand to your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the apple of it. “I talk my stuff, I get business done, and I manage this entire..other world that we’ve built together. But I am..virtually nothing…without you.” you could’ve sworn that you heard your heart melting and pouring out from your insides. That also could have just been the cum that was dripping down your thighs still but…

“Pfft- look who’s going soft now,” teased lightly, even as you were wiping more tears away from your eyes. “Speaking of..would you…ahem, mind..?”

Suguru had planned on staying inside just a bit longer, but he gave in either way, pulling your hips up and letting his softened cock slip out of your cum-soaked hole with a lewd squelch that was chased by a wet pop! that had you shivering as he let you come back down to relax on his chest. Finally able to catch your breath after what felt like eons.

“Everyone’s..probably worried about where we are right now.” you’d reminded, only to be pulled in closer to Suguru’s chest, where he rested his chin on top of your head, sighing heavily as he propped one of his boots—which he’d been too caught up to even take off in the first place—up on the table.

“Let them,” he’d responded idly. “I, in complete and total honesty, could not give less of a fuck about anyone that’s outside of this room right now.” 

The admission wasn’t too out of the ordinary for him but, given the fact he hadn’t even bothered to revert back, you’d take it upon yourself to ask the burning question, “So uhm..how long has..this been a thing, huh?”

“Oh, what? Being an incubus?”

“Uhuh. I mean—did you like..already die or something?” you pressed curiously.

That let him give a bark of laughter as he ran his hands up your sides, focusing on the pressure points there that had you easing into the touch. “No, not quite. I guess you could say I was..born like this..? I suppose. It’s never been that much of a quarrel for me.”

“Were your parents demons too? I mean, do you come from Hell?” 

“You ask way too many questions for someone who just lost their virginity to a literal incubus.” he gave back.

Shrugging, you put out your bottom lip a bit. “Let’s just say.. ‘I’m curious.’”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead and lay down for me, will you?” Suguru prompted, to which you instinctively tilted your head to the side. It was a natural thing you did that never ceased to make him think of you as some sort of..puppy, at times. 

“And..why is that..?” 

Rolling his eyes, he tugged you in closer, pressing his fingers deeper into your back muscles. “Because I can’t work out all the kinks from this angle. Plus, you deserve a lie down after I was inside you for so long. On both ends.” Amidst all of the light banter, you didn’t even pay attention to the fact that his little tattoo gift had long-since faded away.  “Touché, perv.” and like clockwork, you were easing yourself off of his lap and moving to lie flat on your stomach, already feeling his hands working like a masseuse to get out every single strain that he had put on your body. From your thighs and up, he made sure not to skip a single space, hopeful that with enough good aftercare that maybe you’d be up for a round two.

A/N: Phew..! That’s kind of..all I can say for this, lol. This has been the winter season of writing for me and before I go back on an inevitable hiatus, I wanted to deliver to you what everyone has been sooo on edge about. The love and support for Sweetest Sin has been phenomenal and I’m excited to bring more..in due time. (The glasses got nuked like 3/4s in. Running on like 0 sleep. Sorry for the yap, enjoy the filth. Sincerely, your Loverboy.) @aseqan 💝

[yall-batman-fanfic]

Interrogations | Bruce Wayne/Batman x  Magician!Reader

Synopsis: a really, really, nonsense short. A good cop, bad cop duo with Batman and Vivian is far scarier than the good cop bad cop duo of Batman and Superman.

It was one of those missions that Waller had the Suicide Squad take, and this time Captain Boomerang was the unlucky one who is going to die, yet the bomb implanted in him hasn’t exploded. Was there a jammer in this place? But Waller would have known immediately if he was captured by the Justice League, yet here he was. Alive and unharmed.

Well, since he was alive he could just lean back and relax. The JLA were a bunch of boy scouts who don’t condone dirty means of extracting information.

Especially Superman. 

The strongest being there is and he doesn’t have the guts to get the job done.

The door opened. 

And it wasn’t Superman and Batman.

It was Batman and a woman whose face was covered by a domino mask that didn’t look like it fit her right but was enough to hide her identity. She had red hair, wore a white button-up shirt, a pair of black pants, boots, and a dark red coat that would fan around whenever she would turn or walk. And she had long, red hair that was tied to a ponytail.

“Didn’t know the JLA has a new member,” said Captain Boomerang.

“It doesn’t,” answered Batman.

“So, who is this? Outsourcing?”

“Somewhat. Enchantress was released and has been wreaking havoc from city to city, and I know it has something to do with Amanda Waller’s Suicide Squad.”

Captain Boomerang shrugged. “Never heard of it.”

“Just so you know,” the woman spoke. “The only thing that’s keeping that little bomb in your neck from blowing your brains out is me. What does Waller want with the Enchantress?”

Captain Boomerang snorted then he burst out laughing as he said: "So, what? Is this a good cop --- bad cop dynamic going on here? She's the carrot, you're the stick? Do you really think I’d believe that the Justice League would just let that happen?”

Batman smirked. "Trust me, she's the crowbar, and I'm just the stick. And she's not afraid to kick someone off buildings."

"What?"

"You ruined our vacation,” said the woman.

Before he knew it, Captain Boomerang was falling off the building, crashing through the walls and windows.

“Batman! Vivian!” Superman was about to fly to save Captain Boomerang but before he could, Vivian caught him with her magic and had him hanging at a great height, upside down as she had him hovering before them.  

“Listen Boomerang, Enchantress is someone that no one in the mortal world nor in the dark arts want running rampant,” said the woman. “Especially when she’s bringing the Incubus out into the world. Trust me when I tell you that they will fuck up this world if we don’t stop them. So, what were Waller’s plans?!”

“Fine, fine!” Captain Boomerang exclaimed. “I’ll tell ya!”

Boomerang yelled out all he knew about the mission, and when Vivian hadn’t put him down, he swore to them that was all there was he knew. Believing him, Vivian left him hanging on the side of the building before facing the Justice League.

“I’ve disabled the bomb in his neck,” she told Batman and Superman. “I’ll handle the Enchantress.”

“Are you really going to leave him there?” said Superman.

“He and Suicide Squad ruined our vacation,” Vivian pointed out. Then she turned to Batman to say: “After this, we’re going back to our vacation.”

Batman smirked. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Let’s go. I got a succubus and incubus to get rid of,” Vivian opened a portal and had herself and Batman jump in.

[united-as-one]

Mingyu called this: 'Scouting the Competition', as the incubus steps foot into the club with fur coat, sunglasses and an allure that was all too enticing. There were some who seemingly recognised him but he waves them off with a blown kiss before arriving at the bar to order his drink of choice. A bloody mary, a fitting drink for someone of his stature and abilities. But it was within this club that he captures the scent of someone very similar to himself. Intriguing to say the least, it seemed the competition had their own demon...

Finishing his drink and removing his sunglasses, Mingyu's eyes glaze over the surroundings taking into account the pros and the cons, the good views and the bad. Curiously though, there was one that did capture his gaze, a man that he knew possessed the strong scent that was filling his lungs. The incubus approaches, teeth clasped gently around the arm of his glasses, pushing past others and patrons who were wishing to talk to the man in question only for the host to push through, a wad of cash already in hand.

"I'll pay you double your rate for some private time right now." He says with a small smirk, outbidding the others almost immediately. The joys of being a rich host. "I know what you are, handsome. Finding ones like me are very hard to find, I thought I'd survey this establishment and have made my choice on who I want to spend the night with. You, sir. Now what do you say we take this somewhere better?~" - @hcttogo

[fun-sized-owl]

The Devil and the Servant

Part XXVIII – The Toy Master

Warning: adult themes, sexual themes.

I'm the master of toys And all you girls and boys Are welcome to my wonderland I'm the angel of joy And I'm here to paint the void Welcome to my world To my dream factory--Avantasia, The Toy Master.

    " The Crown of Karsus. "

    Haarlep's head tilted when he heard the words fall theatrically from Raphael's lips, the cambion's pose just as confident as his voice, a hand at his hip as his wings flared, the other curled into a fist, as if he stood on a stage before a hundred men. Ever the actor, Raphael was.     A name that had been heard in fleeting, if he were honest, and every time Raphael had mentioned it, his mood would turn sour, like it was some sort of sore spot. Haarlep knew what it was, because Mephistopheles had told him many hundreds of years ago.     It was why he'd been crafted. To take Raphael's mind off the relic that Mephistopheles had stashed away. But he didn't know the intimate details, and certainly not Raphael's side of the dramatic tale of how Karsus had fallen and taken a whole city with him.     "And what exactly is the Crown of Karsus, my sweet little duke?" the incubus asked, tail swaying as he sat on the settee within the House of Hope. His elbow rested on the arm of the lounge, his legs up across the soft cushions.

    Haarlep didn't appreciate his dramatic flair, and Raphael breathed a soft huff, his tail flicking behind him. He paced a few steps in the boudoir. He didn't expect Haarlep to know what he was speaking of. The incubus had not been gifted to him until after the Crown had been locked away in one of Mephistopheles' vaults. Though Raphael had long ago suspected that Haarlep was some sort of spy for his father, the years between them had proven that Haarlep hadn't informed his father of much—if anything of importance, for that matter. There had been a number of things that the creature could have reported back to Mephistopheles, and yet the meetings that he would be summoned to back within the eighth layer of Baator were far and few between.     Thankfully, Mephistopheles seemed to be pleased, or at least ignorant. However, the Crown was coming back into play, it seemed. For hundreds of years, he had allowed it to rest within the vaults of Cania, sitting and collecting dust. Ridiculous, naturally, but he had little means of breaking into one of his father's well guarded safes, and he had no desire to be under the scrutinising eye of the Archdevil. Now, Korrilla had scouted a useful child for him to take under his wing, a resourceful one that he could meld within his hands to get the Crown for him. Little Enver Flymm would be a useful pet.     Raphael turned back to his personal incubus, the House of Hope quiet for the evening. Soon, the devil would retire to his bed for sleep, though he detested the idea that he must sleep to regain his strength. The eternal reminder that he was not a full devil, that he was a cambion . But the Crown of Karsus would not only allow him to rule the Nine Hells as the Archdevil Supreme so he could unite them, it would grant him godhood . Every despicable setback that he had due to his half-fiend blood would be nought. He would rule the Nine as an almighty, a supreme devil, a creature that would never sleep, that would never eat, and Hells forbid... never have to use another blasted chamber pot for all eternity.     "Dear, are you really that uneducated a creature?" he asked, raising a brow as the incubus looked at him with that bored expression. Of course, Haarlep preferred a more hands on approach when it came to learning (or teaching). Books and history were not the creature's forte, unless they were riddled with erotic imagery.     His wings shifted as he tutted, wiggling a clawed finger. "Perhaps I will read to you the tome of Karsus' Folly tonight. And then I will tell you how it was taken from me, locked away and forced to gather dust for centuries." Not anymore, though. Finally, this was his chance to claim it once again, and everything was going to fall into place.

    Haarlep rested his cheek on his knuckles. "Does it have betrayal and murder in it?" he asked, tail wagging on the settee at the thought.

    Raphael laughed at the incubus' enthusiasm. "Failure and tragedy, my dear," he said slowly and deeply, moving his way over to Haarlep and picking his chin up. "The demise of mortals who attempt to play gods. The inevitable downfall and destruction of a could be brilliant mind, crushed due to ambition."

    Haarlep purred at the attention, their eyes meeting before he reached his hand to take Raphael's. "Then it sounds familiar, my pet," he teased.

    Raphael's expression turned to a scowl as he lowered his hand from Haarlep's chin, turning from him and making his way across to the nearest table where there was a platter of thinly sliced meats. He picked one of them up and placed it into his mouth, chewing before he swallowed.

    Haarlep stood from his seat, padding his way across the room as Raphael snacked on the meats. They were of the highest quality of course. Raphael spared no expense when it came to himself.     "Tell me, then. The story of this crown." As if the cambion wouldn't. Raphael did so love the sound of his own voice.

    "A Crown, a relic that my father stole from my grasp, as you are aware. For the last few centuries, it has been locked away in a vault, beyond my reach. But now..." Raphael smirked, his eyes glowing bright.

    A look that was full of schemes, Haarlep knew. He smiled in response, plucking the meat from the table and offering it to Raphael. When the devil opened his mouth, he placed it between those sharp teeth of his, a little rumble of a purr at his throat.

    Raphael's hand went to Haarlep's wrist, claws drawing down that perfect red skin of his, that perfect version of himself. When he had swallowed the meat that was offered, he drew his hand down Haarlep's soft, plump cheek, returning that little purr that the fiend made.     "The boy. He is sharp, and of quick wit. Enver will be my key to Mephistopheles' vault that contains the crown. He will become a pawn across the Lanceboard, and I will be his puppet master."

    Haarlep's eyes softened. "You wear a crown, my sweet. Those regal horns upon your head," the incubus whispered, lips coming closer, so close that he could taste the fresh meat against Raphael's skin, just centimetres away. "The son of the Archdevil Mephistopheles."

    Of course an incubus would not understand. Raphael had been after the Crown for centuries! Since Karsus had fallen and failed. The Crown was everything he needed to unite the Hells, to make them his , to demand an end to the Blood War, and to conquer all of the planes. He wanted what was best for devilkind, but most of all, he wanted what was best for himself. Truly, he was the hero in his own tale. The saviour of the Nine Hells and all that surrounded them.     Being the son of Mephistopheles had meant nothing. It had come with burdens, nothing more. A life that was isolating and filled with harsh disappointment . No matter how desperately he had worked for his father's approval, he had been neglected and dismissed time and time again. The Archdevil had more important things on his mind than his own children. When he gained the crown, however, Mephistopheles could no longer ignore him.     A look of distaste crossed Raphael's features, drawing back from Haarlep as his tail flicked, but he felt a sudden tug on it, Haarlep's own tail having slithered and coiled itself around his. He was suddenly pulled back, the incubus' eyes on his and their faces close.

    "Here, in this room, you can be whatever you want, Archduke," Haarlep whispered. "If it is a crown you want to wear, then fetch a crown, and I will place it upon your head. But it will be you who kneels, my dear. Always ."

    Raphael's claws gripped Haarlep when the incubus pressed his lips against his in a hot kiss. He tasted the saliva at his tongue, against his fangs, and he softly moaned as he kissed back, his eyes closing. A distraction... Haarlep was distracting him from his tale, and he quickly pulled back, a growl in his throat.     "Here I thought you wished to hear all about the Crown and its tale." He took a few steps back, though his tail remained linked with Haarlep's. The incubus may have been exceptionally good at distracting him and taking his mind off his work at times, but outside of their bed play, Raphael was very much in charge.     "Come. Rest yourself on my bed and nestle yourself close. I will tell you all about the fall of a man who foolishly handed me my future. Our future." As he walked, Haarlep followed, tails still together, and when he sat upon the bed inside his boudoir, Haarlep crawled upon it. Suddenly, the fiend was laying across his lap, and Raphael smiled in amusement, his claws raking through soft, brown hair.

    Haarlep settled himself comfortably against Raphael's lap, his wings tucking themselves against his body. "Tell me every detail then, my pet. I wish to know it all." He said it in such a way that it would have the devil eating out of his very palm.

    "Naturally," Raphael replied, claws idly stroking down perfect skin. "Every daring tale starts with a fool.. ."

KEEP READING ON AO3

[tag-that-oc]

Out of context quotes for 2 of my OCs.

Treasure; the messed up little human.

"EXCUSE ME! I might have a drinking problem, a month like a sailor, and be kind of a racist, WHICH I AM WORKING ON, BY THE WAY! But I am definitely not sexist! I love women! My mom was one and she was lovey!"

"... Didn't she scam people and like, murder someone?"

"Yes, but, 1, she needed the money and 2, the guy was scum and deserved it."

"...Fair enough."

Scout; the part fae, part incubus (despite being aroace), and part human.

"Look, I just want the bare minimum in life. A place to lay my head, some food to fill my belly, and the blood of the bastards that killed my troop on my sword. Is that too much to ask?"

"Um... M- maybe A little bit?"

"Oh. ... Okay, I can go without the first two... Is that better?"

"I- I don't think that was the-"

"Shhhh, let him have this."

guys with problems!! i love when guys have problems they sound very interesting! i hope scout gets to kill those people sounds like he deserves it

[agbpaints]

Played an attack/defend game against my normal clan Jade Falcon opponent today. We do a thing where we make 10k bv lists and then pair them down to 5k forces based on the scenario so I brought the fire support/street fighting elements of my Mercs list (consisting of an Awesome 9Q, Panther 9R, Venom 9KC and a Hunchback 5S) going up against a Storm Crow Prime, Incubus 3, and a Fire Falcon E. His objective was to break into a bunker on my side of the field and carry a flag from it to his home edge. My objective was to keep him from doing that.

Both our battle plans were pretty simple- his was to make a mad dash for my bunker, break it open with the fire chicken's ATM, and then snag the capture objective with the Incubus and get back to his side of the board under the cover of the Storm Crow. Mine was to secure all the good approaches with the Panther/Awesome combo at range and the Hunchback as a close-in brawler, and then use the Venom to jump into vulnerable flanks and rear arcs, or else pursue his fast movers if they got the flag.

The game lasted a total of 3 turns. Turn 1 was mostly just maneuvering and approaching each other. I put my Venom and Hunchback in positions to cause problems T2 and the Awesome and Panther in sniping positions where they could cover each other. The Falcons moved up closer into positions behind cover where I couldn't reach them.

Turn 2 the clan mechs decided to put the hurt on my Hunchie- lots of ranging shots into it as my Panther fell back away from the Incubus's pulse lasers and my Venom managed to strip the armor off of the ammo-bearing torso of the Fire Falcon with some lucky lot shots.

Turn 3 was a mix of luck and my opponent misplaying into my guys. The Fire Falcon closed to break the bunker with its missile weapon while the Incubus and Storm Crow closed to engage my Hunchback, with the Incubus outflanking the Hunchie into its rear arc. Meanwhile my Venom managed to jump straight into the Incubus's rear arc for a a pair of engine crits backed up by the Awesome while the Panther ripped off the Fire Falcon's side torso and the Hunchback's LBX20 delivered a killing engine crit with its cluster munitions. My opponent conceded when I won initiative at the top of turn 4, as I'd be able to jump my Venom into the back of whatever I wanted, he had yet to secure the flag, and I still had my entire force at full fighting strength while he was down a mech and most of his Incubus's heat mitigation.

Lessons learned:

Running into an IS prepared defense line without a plan is a really bad idea. My Awesome didn't really pull its weight in direct damage, but I think its commanding view of one of the two approaches forced the Jade Falcon mechs into contending with the Hunchback at danger close, which isn't really a position light or middleweight mechs want to be in, clantech or no.

Cover (or lack thereof) is really important to defending your points. My opponent got to choose which side of the map he'd deploy to, and stuck me defending the side with fewer trees. There was enough foliage for him to get crazy good TMMs as he ran in and I had bad shots from range and movement, but by the time he reached my side of the field the trees had run out and my heavy hitters had found good positions to stand and cover what few forests there were.

Holy shit the Venom is an annoying little piece of shit light hunter. I know I just wrote an entire rant about the Venom but the SDR-9KC did extremely serious work for me in this fight. Spheroid MPLs might be kinda crap compared to the ungodly power of their Clanner counterparts, but a body with the armor to survive skirmishing and approaches and the sheer jumping speed to land three of them danger close in flanking positions makes them pretty decent. While it wasn't the only factor in killing the Fire Falcon or crippling the Incubus, 842 bv of crazy spheroid scout/striker mech took on close to triple its BV and not only lived but won. Once my proliferation cycle gets painted, the printed Venom I have is next on the block to celebrate and keep my forces looking spiffy

[dcnt-preach]

SUPPORTING CHARACTERS / SIDE CHARACTERS .

You can interact with them, just say their names in the inbox, they have their own silly little stories too / could help lead up to small events too . Any NPCS / Side charscters will be added here and reblogged to let you know🐇

Vennie is backstory really isn't talked about because he doesn't particularly know it all himself, like a majority of the succubi/concubi his other parent is human and while he was most certainly born in hell , he was raised on Earth by a human mother many many years ago with his father occasionally dropping in but he won't admit to it because he witness his mother attempting to summon his father far too many times in desperation until she abandoned him leaving his father choice.

— name . Vincent / Vennie • age . 35 hell years • species . incubus • height . 6 ft 3 in

occupation. mercenary / territory scout • verses . both | married to cynithya

He'll lie and say he's originally from the Wrath Ring and goes around the ringsfor mercenary work where he was supposed to be killing off Cherri but , her demeanor made him feel some remorse and he began actually working on helping her when she managed go floor him in hand to hand combat but , he's chalking it up to her just being insanely lucky and is curious as to where her endeavors will go . In the meantime he's taking up work strictly around Pride to help out when he can .

— name . cynithya • age . unknown • species . sinner demon • height . 7 feet tall

occupation . mercenary / territory scout • verses . both | married to vennie

Joke off of Cyanide ( she unalive herself with it on accident -- a really messed up yet funny story of why you read things before just chugging ) , she's another sinner demon but , one that Cherri actually knew when she was alive . In fact , Cynithya was one of few that tried to steer Cherri on the correct path and even though Cherri won't admit it , She was her babysitter too . She doesn't involve herself with violence anymore and instead focuses on healing ; since Hell clearly has emergency services and things like jail/prison , Cynithya is a practicing Doctor and puts her skills to the test sometimes with the rest of Cherri's group to get even more experience .

— name . pix-l / pixie • age . 30 hell years • species . sinner demon • height . 5 ft 11 in

occupation . computer programmer • verses . both

They're another Sinner Demon , died in the late 90's, technological based obviously and another one tied to Vox as a contract . Their purpose is to supply Cherri with what she needs to keep up the views and seldom leaves their room ( just like in life ) because of fear of hell . They grew close to Cherri because of her upbeat demeanor -- and she saved them during their first cleanse so in turn not only does he supply her with some authorized supplies , they've been keeping tabs on unclaimed territory and giving her heads up in return she ensures their territory is safe and runs errands / does deals under the table .

— name . oliver • age . est 5 hell years • species . greed imp • height . 2 foot

occupation . none • verses . both

Oliver is the group's baby , he was found by Vennie when he was smaller and has been with the group ever since . He was roughly 2 maybe, 3 - they don't know his actual age when Vennie found him on a job , he's been bounced around from each person in the group particularly spending his time with Cynithya or with Cherri and Chewie because of the other two being extremely busy ( Vennie ) or shut off ( Pix-L ) . He's only around because of group vote + Oliver strongly reminding Cher of her past and what she causes havoc for

[ao3feed-tf2ships]

Somethings Different About The RED Sniper

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/51803188

by idontunderstand_writing

Weird dreams about his teammate/crush, even weirder moments with him seeming irresistible, and then you go and find out he’s a demon? What are the odds for Mick Mundy of RED!? He may be good at keeping a secret for his friend/crush but it’s taken a toll that even BLU can recognize…

Aka “Am I the Asshole for being concerned my little brother and his ‘friend’ are acting weird?” -Blu Sniper aka Rick Reeves of BLU

Aka Aka Scout is an incubus and Sniper is somehow even hornier than a sex demon

Words: 3140, Chapters: 1/10, Language: English

Fandoms: Team Fortress 2

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/M, Gen, M/M

Characters: Sniper (Team Fortress 2), Scout (Team Fortress 2), RED Team (Team Fortress 2), BLU Team (Team Fortress 2), Original Male Character(s), Miss Pauling (Team Fortress 2), Merasmus (Team Fortress 2), Satan (Team Fortress 2)

Relationships: Scout (Team Fortress 2)/Original Character(s), Scout/Sniper (Team Fortress 2), Scout & Spy (Team Fortress 2), RED Sniper & BLU Sniper & BLU Engineer (Team Fortress 2), Minor or Background Relationship(s)

Additional Tags: Main pairing is Sniper/Scout but “original male characters” are only food, Incubus Scout (Team Fortress 2), Trans Scout (Team Fortress 2), Succubi & Incubi, Alternate Universe - Succubi & Incubi, scout is more like a “Jennifer’s body” type of succubi, he does it for food, pheromones are making sniper hard as a rock 24/7, Awkward Sniper (Team Fortress 2), Autistic Sniper (Team Fortress 2), Horny Demons and Humans, Non-Explicit Sex, Surprisingly, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Emotionally Repressed Sniper (Team Fortress 2), also, Sexually Repressed Sniper (Team Fortress 2), BLU Mercenaries and RED Mercenaries are Different People (Team Fortress 2), Graphic Description of Incubi/Succubi Feasting

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/51803188

[tenander]

27: MONSTER

-Do you have any monster OCs? (eg: vampires, werewolves, creatures, ghosts…)

OG Meredith, my Saints Row Boss for Saints Row 2-4, became an Incubus (and frankly, you could argue that OG Saints Row bosses are kinda monsters anyway... they're definitely not normal humans).

My Nu Saints Row boss is a snake kinda guy, though I am still undecided whether he is 'just' a snake or literally the devil.

(Play Saints Row)

Yukiro and his party are opposed by a group of oni and tengu... Blue Oni is their leader, Red Oni is his right hand man and personal attack dog, and the Tengu Sisters are their scouts and enforcers. (They don't have names yet.)

[number1yisuchongfan]

I like drawing Scout in cunty outfits in my Incubus Au, it makes him dressing causal and masc more… him, instead of putting on an act

Each one on its own

[colbypuppythebaker]

hey i hope you dont mind but my brain is broken in a specific way that means I wrote you some inbox fanfic for those incubus!alfyn sketches

"Look, I know a lot of other succubi and incubi like to pick up their prey in bars, but I wasn't lookin' for anything 'cept a good time. Scout's honor."

"Doesn't mean much coming from a demon."

"Okay, kinda racist but whatever. Look, I'm getting a medical degree for a reason, I WANT to help people. Killin' your prey when you can just catch-and-release always rubbed me the wrong way."

"Catch and release? What am I, a fish?"

"Call it payback for that comment. And we can just...not kill people when we eat. Ain’t that hard. Just have to exercise even a little restraint. Sap some energy and let 'em go, they just feel tired the next day."

"Is that why I feel like shit?"

"You drank an entire bottle of tequila last night, that's on you."

You have no idea how happy this made me. That's it, that's them!

I love this, thank you.

[thetristoneera]

Here ye, here ye.  As I begin to detail all of my characters from my 7th grade year in life.  You will be hipped to revisions since, then into the final product.  In their origin, "the Nasty Crew" was first created when Lumidee emerged.  Nyne, Thug French (Formerly AKA Thug Nasty) & Division were made to be music creators, influencers & talent.  As I put them in the Nasty Crew with Lumidee; I added Lindsay Lohan, Jessica Sutta & created more imaginative talent for the crew.  That would be traveling around the galaxy & outside of it; touring the sea of stars until their death dates.  They never planned on retiring until they couldn't perform anymore.  As I first made up the 100 Year Mark of super beings, they can live normally up to 97 years of age.  They begin to slow down but never deteriorate; they stay physically capable up until they have reached one hundred years outside of a womb with a detached umbilical cord.  When it's their time, they start to lose sight in a light at the end of a tunnel way; then cease all bodily functions.  Until I created immortality in this world...

With music being a traveling commodity; they can take their act to the next sector & next sector & next sector until they actually grow tired of living.  Immortality is a simple ask, because of the Species Wars; a new wish allowed the good folk to make immortality a simple desire in order for it to be blessed on a vessel.  For the continued existence of humans, devils & angels.  The Order for this crew is simple; spend three days performing over a weekend for six months, with a set show over a heavily managed tour.  In order to stay on that tour, they have their magical might; for their own protection.  Nyne, comes from the House of Barnes of this universe; he is of the middle set of children of his generation.  Older brothers are triplets, he was born with a twin sister; then there was their little brother.  Nyne comes from a highly dangerous up bringing or several, for his own betterment; once he heads off into the real world.  He grew up with a best friend, Etoro Vithius; both of them were into song writing, rapping, singing & performing.  It was only right, that they met in a summer camp before they began their journey into music.  Being hardcore sparring buddies is a constant inspiration for Stadium Cult.  Thug French holds the same sentiment of power training that they uphold.  Scouting for new talent is how he found them, then found Blake Rhymes, Division & Chocolate.  A lucrative set of entertainment they would come to be, but a marvelous brotherhood looks better on them.  Over a few years of gaining stardom, a chance encounter with Lumithick was their shoe in; in finally securing female talent for their touring dreams.  

One by one, all of them scouted the next lady to join Stadium Cult.  When they had seven, the girls got along to where they would keep their individual acts on top of making a new girl group.  Lips Alexus was a new feature of Stadium Cult, that 'super beinged' their stardom into triple platinum status.  The relief of hustling was over for this group of thirteen, they finally hit the big leagues in a big enough way to where they can survive on their talent alone.  They had means of creating their own cruise line spaceship; with the hardcore brutes & ladies that were on board, they had it developed into a battleship too.  For insurance purposes of making sure nothing happens to them or the people they are entertaining on board.  At the beginning of this story, Stadium Cult will be in their third year of triple platinum status; high from creating several new music projects amongst all thirteen of them.  Collabing with many music makers around the worlds, makes it so they will continue to make up new music.

Thug French is a warlock, hailing from Coven: Syél Voye.  He lyricizes as if he's casting a spell; end result, no choice but to enjoy his incubus ways.  Nyne is a licensed super hero, acts when he's not preparing, crafting or creating his talent of rapping like a Lil Nigga.  Division has been helping with the choreographing & show preparation fo all kinds of venues & scenarios.  He has been studying entertainment majority of his life, making it a piece of cake to handle dancers & stage hands from one world to the next.  Blake Rhymes is a songster who manifests Neo Country/Folk music.  Plays the guitar more like an incubus than he could sing; that's his gimmick, can apply a guitar to any sound.  Etoro Vithius is a songster who manifests Neo Bollywood/Pop music.  With his background in opera, it makes his voice more tremendous as he creates.  He always makes the crowds chant with him, no matter how small or big the venue.  Chocolate acts like a narrator, negotiator, veejay, deejay, public relations & hype man for it all.  So charismatic, you'd think he was an incubus at all times.  With the way he jumps in & out of performances; you can tell it's natural for him to keep a show on track.  Lumithick is a songstress & rapper of versatile dreams.  Siren made, bodacious with the vibes & always cool is her gimmick; everybody loves her.  la Angel is a princess of pop that oozes star quality, nonstop.  She is also a star of an actress, being on the magic moving picture square helps keep Stadium Cult in media; constantly looping.  Quenched is a princess of EDM, keeps it hot; even when the cameras aren't rolling.  Being a definite party girl has their pros; she abuses all of them & intensifies Stadium Cult's personal relations with strangers as they travel.  Whipz is known for bringing out the sexiness in females & males.  Even when it comes to lyrics, if it helps; she went to college for bow chica wow wow.   Ezmyrei is a songstress with a savvy sultry voice; mixing several lyrics into her projects has her labeled as a lyrical genius.  With a history of circus performing, she never misses her mark; it's always hot & high whenever she's solo.  Zatielle brings the rhythm & blues into EDM flawlessly.  Can make your soul quiver, ache & hallucinate; all in the same string of vocals.  She is ultimately superb at ad libing to her entire group & the fellas.  Then there's Twilly Via, Foxy Love is her god mother; I kid, I kid...  But am I?  Twilly Via is certifiably crazy, in all of the good ways.  Beneficial to any party, gathering, event, stage, performance & personality situation.  She is the definition of entertaining & knows how to map out a season for a reality show...

Base of Operations: the Spaceship: Stadium Cult / Alliance: the Super Warrior Guild / Occupation: Galactic Class Bards / Their Order: Cruise Line Holders That Tours Five Galaxies

[dvilsdesire-a]

The incubus was used to the heat of the Hells--along with the heat of passion--but Haarlep was also gifted with stamia that was likely far greater than his companion's. Gifted with wings, the walk was also a breeze for him. It was the boredom that drove the creature insane. Tree after tree... a rock... Hells, nature was so dull at times. He missed the screams of the debtors in the House of Hope, or the way his claws would rake down a certain devil's back and make him moan.

When Alaara and her little crew decided to camp for the night, Haarlep had crawled up one of the trees so he could see how far along they were. A few more days walk, he would guess. For him, it would have been so much quicker. He could have offered to scout, but that would mean he'd miss out on all the fun when it came to camp time banter, and that would have been a travesty.

The scent of sweat from their companions smothered his nostrils, making him crave the flesh, his tongue licking his lips.

From his position, he could see them all, unpacking, gathering wood for the fire, putting their tents up... and Astarion's ghost-like back with a familiar alphabet upon it. Now, now, wasn't that curious...

Leaping down, his wings guided him to a softer landing. "You have met with devils before, I see," he stated to the vampire, tilting his head curiously. "And here I thought I was your first." He pouted playfully, eyes large and sad.

@chaoticbard

@dvilsdesire with @chaoticbard

Another long day of trekking through the woods. Astarion felt his back on fire. The sweat and grime stuck between too sensitive skin and leather armor. He couldn’t wait until it was time to bathe to relieve himself. Deft hands worked at the straps. The leathers fell away one by one. His under-armor heaved off so his flesh became exposed to the cool, night air. Scars on display.

Red, irritated, and most importantly oh so very itchy. Muscles in his back twitched. Astarion reached where he was able to scratch and claw at them. A vain attempt to soothe the burning. A sigh of satisfaction escaped him when his regrowing claws ran over a particularly stubborn spot.

What was carved into him still a mystery. A damn mark of ownership. He wondered if the tree across camp with the gnarly bark would be any better. Rub his back against it until it stopped itching. If he was godsdamn lucky it would rub the scar into something else.

But Astarion resolved he had more decorum than that. Especially with so many eyes at camp and how meddlesome his companions were.

[bonanza-7]

Incubus Scout ;)

Commissions |  Redbubble | Ko-Fi | My art tag

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

BTS DRABBLE-Min Yoongi 🎃

Halloween Series: Incubus Min Yoongi

It all starts with a dream, the most beautiful man you have ever seen, and the faint hint of a name upon the tip of your tongue when you wake-Yoongi. And soon-though you may be crazy-he’s not just appearing to you when you sleep. You see him everywhere on the streets of Greece-hints, flashes, hopeful glances in the crowd-a slight taste to bide you over until you can be with him once more in slumber. And then, one day, he appears to you in broad daylight-altogether too real-and tells you he’s come for what is his.  

Tags: BTS, Bangtan Boys, Bangtan Seonyendan, Bulletproof Boy Scouts, Beyond the Scene, Halloween, Spooky Season, BTS Drabble, Min Yoongi, Yoongi, Suga, Yoongi x you, Yoongi x reader, Incubus Yoongi

Genre: Fluff, Suggestive

Title: Mine

(Image Credit: @gehenna1986​ )

You blink open your eyes, and you instantly know-you are dreaming. 

It is apparent in the way the edges of your chamber haze in and out of focus, apparent in the way the darkness of the night seems muted and slightly softer, as if barely hiding the light from twinkling stars 

And it is altogether too apparent, when you meet the gaze of the man hovering above you. 

He is the most beautiful man you have ever seen-ebony hair falling over his brow and into amber colored eyes, warm and swirling with caramel color, fine, porcelain features, and full pink lips. And from his back, sprouts a pair of magnificent, leathery, onyx colored wings. 

And though you know you should be frightened to see a strange man above you, his closeness incredibly intimate with you, in the safety and space of your own bed, you are not, because after all-it is only a dream. 

As you consider this, the man speaks, and his voice-low and husky and smooth-makes your stomach clench in a pleasant manner, and fills your head with thoughts not becoming of a Greek lady. “(Y/N). You have my word, I will not take you unwillingly.” 

Curious, that he knows your name. 

You cock your head to the side, studying the way the foggy atmosphere of the dream slides across his sharp features, softening and dulling the curves of his jaw and nose, and without thinking-it is only a dream after all-you reach up, and cup the side of his face with your palm, letting your fingertips slide across the stretch of his cheekbone. “I am not unwilling.” 

His pupils darken at your murmured consent-blowing wide and black as he leans down toward you-and your breath catches in your throat, as his hands slide up the bare skin of your arms, making you shiver-before his lips slant to fit with your own. 

The kiss-unlike the man-is rough and sloppy and fiery, your teeth knocking together and tongues fighting to find space in each other’s mouths. 

His fingers find the straps of your night gown, pulling it down expertly and easily in the dark, even while keeping his mouth on yours, and as his fingers dance their way across your newly revealed skin, making you gasp, you cannot help but tangle your fingers into the dark hair at the base of his neck. 

It is just a dream after all. 

There is nothing, in the next few minutes, besides skin flush with skin and ravaging heat and mumbled words under panting, harsh breaths, and the moan of your name from between his lips and clenched teeth. 

And then, there is quiet, and the sound of the ocean waves from the open balcony and crickets chirping loudly from beneath the window that looks out over the garden, and you turn your head on your pillow to look at him beside you-eyes closed and chest still heaving as he fights to regain breath you stole from him-and you reach out, carefully, gently, and push back dark, damp hair from his forehead, admiring the flawlessness of his bare skin in the warm, comfortable feeling of the dream. 

He turns his head, and his honeyed eyes, still slightly out of focus, meet your own, and the corner of his lip curls into a half smile, revealing sharp, pointed front teeth in contrast to pink gums, and then he says hoarsely, “See you tomorrow, little dove.” 

And before you can respond to him, the room fades to black, and when you blink next, you are awake. 

********

“Two please.” You flash your fingers with the desired number to the old woman before you, and she nods, reaching out to brush aside the palm leaves covering her butcher table, as she grabs two haunches of venison for you and begins to bag them. 

You glance around the open air market-bustling with activity in the early morning-and the hairs on the back of your neck suddenly stand on end, making you feel uneasy, although you brush off the feeling, attributing it to the group of men three stalls down that are sniggering and talking about you behind their hands. 

Thanking the woman as she hands you the wrapped cuts of meat, you turn from the stall, just as a group of young boys-kicking a leather ball-stampede past you, almost stepping on your sandaled feet. 

Gasping, you stumble backward, catching yourself on the stall, and as they pass you in a cloud of dust and yells-through the residue they leave behind-your startled eyes connect with those of a stranger. 

Or almost stranger, because the sight of him-something oddly familiar and intimate swirling in his golden eyes as he watches you-is enough to freeze your breath in your throat. 

And then, as the woman at the stall asks if you are all right, you blink, and he is gone-taking the air of intimacy with him-and you are left trying to place where you know him for the rest of the day. 

And why he looked at you with such raw and unhidden desire. 

*******

The man visits you again that night-in the world of slumber and unhindered dreams. 

It is once again the same-flushed skin and slow, unhurried explorations of each other’s bodies, and kisses that bump teeth and intertwine tongues and leave you both wanting for more. 

Although, tonight, there is something different. 

“Yoongi.” You whimper out, as the sharp points of his teeth graze the hollow at the base of your throat, sending the pulse beneath the skin there into a frenzy. 

He pulls back from you-his eyes suddenly guarded-and his features are now stern and hard as he stares down at you, and you are caught off guard, wondering why he switched attitudes so quickly, until he says seriously, “Where did you hear my name?” 

“I didn’t.” You say, words stuttered, because you are worried suddenly, that you have upset him, even though he is merely a specter of your dreaming imagination. You continue. “It just came to the front of my mind and left the tip of my tongue naturally.” 

He visibly relaxes at your answer, his shoulders slouching, and reaches up with one of his hands to push a tendril of damp hair back from your skin, as he says softly, “Oh. That’s good, then.” 

“Good?” You question, tilting your head slightly, as you look up at him, curious what he means. 

“Yes.” He nods, and his lips pull back, just briefly, to reveal white teeth and the customary flash of his pink gums, as his longer fingers, still playing with your hair, swirl a strand around his finger as he studies you thoughtfully. “Not only are our bodies becoming one, our thoughts are as well.” 

You digest his words for a moment, mulling them over, and then you smile in return, reaching up with one of your own hands to trace over the sharp line of his cheekbone and then down to his jaw, admiring the way his bronze skin gleams in the light from the moon. “You know,” You say, as he closes his eyes and leans into your touch, and you move your admiring gaze to the strong pair of dark wings that sprout from his back. “You’re very beautiful, Yoongi.” 

He opens his eyes once more and meets your gaze, and his irises have darkened, as he reaches up to cover your hand with his own-palm warm and soft. “Not as beautiful as you, little dove.” 

His words and tone send a shiver down your spine-you’re not sure if it’s pleasant-but you can’t think too much into it, before his lips are back on yours and all other thoughts are gone from your head. 

********

“I think you’re crazy.” Nefeli scoffs, taking a sip of her drink as you sit-gathered at a table-in your garden a few days later. The brunette crosses her bare ankles, the long tunic she wears-edged in gold-brushing the cobblestones beneath where you sit as she raises a brow at you skeptically, watching you over the edge of her cup. 

“I could be.” You shrug, not really looking at her, as you aimlessly stir your drink around your own glass, watching how the red wine swirls and swirls like a crimson whirlpool-or like the warm, amber swirling of Yoongi’s irises when he looks at you. The thought makes your stomach clench, and you finally look back at your friend across the table. “Maybe I am crazy.” 

“You’re not crazy!” The other girl sitting across from you at the table leans toward you suddenly, looking at you seriously as she says, voice raised with irritation, “Don’t listen to her. Haven’t you heard the stories?” 

Nefeli rolls her eyes, but Zoe ignores her blatant mockery, as you glance over at your other friend, before asking curiously, “Stories?” 

“Yeah.” Zoe nods eagerly, her glass clutched tightly in her hands, as she leans toward you even more, if possible. “The stories about the Incubi.” 

“Zoe, you know those are just an old myth-just like the stories of the Gods and Goddesses coming down to earth to visit men.” Nefeli interjects heatedly, and Zoe shoots her a glare. 

“Not so!” She exclaims, waving her finger between the two of you, as she continues firmly, looking toward you once more, “Incubi are real, (Y/N). They’re nightmare demons-they enter your room while you sleep and take advantage of you-hopeful to spread their supernatural spawn among humans.” Zoe’s eyes are large, as she shivers, suddenly nervous. “My aunt experienced one. She said it was the scariest thing that’s ever happened to her-she was paralyzed, she couldn’t move-and the demon just had his way with her while she watched, mouth open in a silent scream.” 

“Hmmm.” You hum under your breath, already back to stirring the wine around in your glass once more. “But I don’t feel afraid. Yoon-” You start to say his name, but think better of it, since they already thought you were insane. “The man has never hurt me, and the entire experience is actually really enjoyable.” 

“He’s definitely tricking you.” Zoe goes on, as Nefeli rolls her eyes once more at your friend’s antics. 

“You don’t know that.” Nefeli interrupts Zoe, who turns to her, as they start to bicker heatedly between themselves over what is real and to believed, and what is all a farce. 

You glance up from your glass, the sounds of your friends’ fight fading, and suddenly, your heart thumps in your chest, as you catch a glance of a very familair-and very well known-male figure among the orchard trees at the back of the garden. 

Could it be....? 

And then the figure is gone, and the black wings you thought you saw upon his back are no more than a memory, as you shake your head and try to pull yourself back to the present. 

It was probably just a gardener, you reason with yourself, but you can’t help yourself from glancing once more to the trees, hoping to catch one last glimpse. 

******

Yoongi is like clockwork-appearing in your dreams every night for the next week-and though you are usually exhausted when you wake in the morning after one of his visits, you cannot help but hope to see him again. 

The way his long, slender fingers know your body now-inside and out-the way his mouth slots perfectly with your own-hot and insistent and pleasurable-and the way he looks so beautiful in the moonlight-ethereal and unreal-it’s all worth giving up sleep for. 

And so, when you sit in the cafe of the open street market that morning-exactly a week from the day you had been there last, when you felt the unnerving, somehow intimate gaze on you from across the street-you stifle a yawn, and take a sip of your drink, lazily watching the flow of people pass you. 

The merchants are loudly hawking their wares-meat and vegetables and animals and clothing-and the air is filled with a thin layer of dust, kicked up from dozens of sandals and the clopping hooves of horse drawn carts. 

You have always loved the lively atmosphere of the open air market-it is in direct contrast to the quiet, loneliness you feel pervades the air of your estate and garden. 

“May I sit down?” 

The deep, low voice-quiet and reserved-startles you, and you glance up at the man standing in front of the other empty seat at the table, and instantly, you get that feeling again-the same one from the market last week and the same one you experienced days earlier in you garden. 

A feeling of familiarity. Of home. 

“Sure.” You manage to say, although your heart is in your throat and your fingers are suddenly shaking, as the man-who you still do not know, even though he feels so intimate-offers you a polite smile and sits in the empty chair. 

“Do you know who I am?” The man asks, leaning toward you, fists propped under his chin, dark eyes scanning your face intently. 

What an odd way to start a conversation. 

“I don’t....” You begin to say, but your voice dies in your throat, because why, why does he seem so familiar? You swallow hard, and try again. “I’m not sure.” You answer honestly, fingers trembling against the handle of your cup. 

“Ah.” He sits back, a slight look of disappointment on his face, and then he cocks his head, like a curious bird. “It’s probably this disguise.” 

“What?” You ask, shocked into speaking by his odd choice of wording. “What’re you talking about?” 

You feel nervous, as you wait for his answer, glancing around you in case you suddenly need help, saving, from the strange man sitting across from you. 

The man smiles-and there is another pang of knowing in your chest-evident by the way your heart thumps painfully against your rib cage. “Shall I show you something, little dove?” 

That nickname. 

It can’t be. 

Before you can wrap your mind around what the man has just said, he sits back, and a slight shimmer of dark mist ghosts over his features and body, and then, as it clears, he is leaning toward you, and suddenly, you cannot breathe. 

It is him. 

Yoongi. 

The amber, swirling eyes, the dark, endless pupils, the slight curve of full lips up into a smirk-sharp teeth and pink gums peeking through with the expression-the ebony hair hanging over his forehead, perfect, elven features still as he watches you, and on his back-the pair of leathery, beautiful black wings. 

“Recognize me now?” Yoongi asks softly, lips still pulled into the hint of a smile, as he takes in your obvious astonishment. 

“How....”You stutter out, but change your tactic halfway through your sentence. “You’re real? I wasn’t dreaming?” 

He shakes his head, rustling the black bangs that fall into his eyes. “You weren’t dreaming. I’m real.” He reaches out a hand-palm up-across the table, but makes no move to touch you, letting you come to him. 

And you do so, resting your fingers gently in his outstretched hand, as you struggle to comprehend what’s happening, feeling his very warm, and very real skin, beneath the touch of your fingertips. 

“What are you doing here?” You breathe out, suddenly very aware that he sitting across from you-wings on full display-in the middle of the daylight. 

He tilts his head to look at you curiously, and then, eyes darkening as he stares at you, he says seriously, “I’ve come to claim what’s mine.” Your eyes widen, and his fingers curl around your own in a tight, unyielding grip, as he murmurs darkly, “I’ve come for you, little dove. Because you are mine.” 

And though his possessive words-and the way his features darken just slightly-should scare you, they don’t. Because this is Yoongi-the man who has visited you in your dreams for the past few weeks, the man-no the demon-who, though it went against his kind, would not take you unwillingly, who let you come to him. 

And so, following the pattern, you willingly come to him once more, one more time. 

You offer him a gentle smile from across the table, your fingers still clenched within his own, and once more, admire the way the sun reflects off the large pair of ebony wings that adorn his back, before you nod, and say, “That’s right. I’m yours-now and forever.”