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rallamajoop · 3 months ago

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So why are there so many gay vampires?

From the time of Carmilla all the way up to the works of Anne Rice (a universe that seems to get only less subtle as the years go on), gay vampires have been a thing basically as long as anyone was writing about vampires. Lesbian vampires have been a genre all their own for decades. Bram Stoker, author of the most famous vampire novel ever written, was gay himself. So why vampires specifically?

I’ve seen people attempt to answer this one before, and there are all sorts of contributing factors I could point to here, from the genres’ beginnings with Lord Byron (infamous bisexual disaster fuckboy), to modern discourse about why queer folks so often find themselves identifying with the monsters and outcasts of fiction. Few other monsters besides vampires can so easily pass for ‘normal’, or are nearly so well known for their snappy dress sense and ‘unnatural cravings’ for human flesh. And that’s without even getting into all those skeezy outdated stereotypes casting queer people as predators, or the idea that even one ‘gay experience’ could somehow ‘convert’ you into being one yourself.

But to my mind, there’s just one really important thing that makes vampires so gay, and it’s the same thing that makes them sexy in the first place: plausible deniability.

You see, a vampire’s bite is simultaneously a) ridiculously sexual, and b) not even a little bit sexual at all.

You don’t have to look far for vampire canons where there’s nothing sexy about being bitten by a vampire. Bloody, violent, painful, sure ‒or just clinically miserable, human bodies torn open or hung up to drain like a human blood bag. What’s sexy about getting bitten by a mosquito, or a fecking leech? The diet of the actual vampire bat requires it to process so much water that it apparently spends mealtimes busily pissing out the difference, and the anti-coagulants in its saliva leave the wound bleeding messily long after it’s gone. The basic act of feeding is no more inherently sexual for a vampire than it is for a zombie.

Vampires are even a surprisingly acceptable monster to market to children. There’s a vampire muppet, a cartoon about a vampire duck, and a whole series of books about a vampire rabbit. You can put a vampire on the side of a cereal box without undue outrage. Vampires do not have to be R-rated for sex or violence.

So of course vampires will go after victims of the same sex. Do you stop to inquire whether the cow you’re eating was male or female? It’s all just predator and prey!

Until it’s everything but.

Do not let the ‘vampires aren’t supposed to be sexy!’-purists fool you. The tradition of sexy vampires goes all the way back to the oldest folklore, where the first victim of a newly-risen vampire was often their still-living spouse. Vampires were even occasionally known to get women pregnant (a convenient excuse for any widow who might turn up pregnant slightly too many months after their husband's death). The ‘original’ Nosferatu sounds more like an incubus than the naked mole-rat creature they made that movie about. The demon lover aspect of the vampire has been there all along.

And it’s not hard to imagine why. If someone is biting and sucking on your neck, then either they’re a vampire, or they’re well on the way to second base (other folklore has its vampires feed directly from their victim’s heart, which is scarcely less suggestive). The implications of an exchange of bodily fluids were never subtle, even in Stoker’s day (I'm looking at you, Lucy-with-the-three-husbands), and the vampire as a sexual predator was a popular literary device well before Stoker's time. Beautiful vampire women would seduce men to their demise, and the males of the species might visit the bedroom of some innocent maiden time and again. The Victorian obsession with mesmerism, meanwhile, provided the perfect explanation for how victims might be hypnotised into eager compliance, and perhaps not even remember being fed upon at all. Vampires have been the ultimate guilt-free sexual fantasy since way back in the day, compatible with all your awkward Victorian mores! (Not quite ready to admit they're sexual fantasies? No problem: he's just here to, y'know, suck on your neck a bit. No subtext here!)

The whole act of biting is so suggestive that in the early years of vampire cinema, it wasn’t shown at all, not even between opposite-sex participants. The camera of 1922’s Nosferatu maintains a demure distance during the climactic scene where the heroine is finally bitten and slowly drained of blood, and Universal’s Dracula conveniently fades to black or cuts away whenever it’s about to take place. But even if the biting has to take place off screen, who’s to say a vampire isn’t going to pick victims of both sexes?

The stately tradition of the lesbian vampire has cinematic examples going all the way back to 1936, with Universal’s Dracula’s Daughter. Though the titular vampire has a nominal male love interest – a psychologist who naively advises her to confront her temptations without fear – the result of his advice is a famous sequence where she picks up a young woman under the premise of wanting an artist's model, and convinces her to remove her top. No actual biting or nudity is shown (it was only 1936), but her fate is left in little doubt.

By the era of 70’s sexploitation, all such subtlety had been abandoned. If we’re all good with naked boobs, who’s going to be offended by a little biting?

In fact, when it comes to men rather than women, a vampire bite was, for many years, far too sexy to be shown, or even alluded to. Nosferatu clearly feeds on that film’s Jonathan-expy, but our only evidence is the bitemarks on his neck in the morning, and the final sacrifice to defeat the evil monster must naturally be female. Universal’s Dracula had to ignore explicit studio mandate that only the brides should be allowed to feed on their own Jonathan-equivalent, as to even imply that Dracula himself had fed upon a man was obviously far too homoerotic to contemplate (never mind that it’s Dracula who must be established as the threat in this opening sequence, or that it’s Dracula his victim will spend the rest of the film obsessed with).

But in that unspeakable land of male-on-male homoeroticism, you might be surprised how much homo we can squeeze in even without resorting to fangs-in-necks. The Lost Boys is surely one of the most homoerotic vampire films ever made, but there, the one big blood-drinking scene is rendered in a bloody massacre of slasher-movie violence. And though Anne Rice certainly describes the scene where Lestat drains Louis of blood in lurid detail (and even has them spend their first sunrise together sharing a coffin), Louis is already thoroughly seduced before he ever reaches this point.

You see, the lore of the pop-cultural vampire conveniently comes with a second and equally-compelling target for plausible deniability: the act of making a new vampire.

Obviously, to work, this has to be deliberate. A world where anyone bitten by a vampire becomes one hasn’t much to offer us, and the relationship between maker and fledgling can just as easily be framed as parental, as recruitment into a cult, or purely transactional. But whichever way you twist it, the implications of choosing another to share in your own eternal youth and immortality… like, I don’t have to spell this one out for you, do I? Did I mention how that thing where a vampire’s traditional first victim tended to be their own mortal widow goes all the way back?

But if we’re not ready to be completely obvious with our mainstream audience, some alternative explanation can always be provided for cover. Lestat doesn’t really want Louis, he just wants Louis’ money! (He also really wants Louis.) The Lost Boys just want Michael to join their gang! (Their very, very pretty gang, who swan around in mesh shirts, tank tops and assless chaps.)

The two sides of the vampire-deniability coin aren’t mutually exclusive, either. Carmilla drinks her new paramour’s blood, but also gazes into her eyes while promising her you will be mine. Drinking blood is a key part of making a new vampire in so many vampire stories, after all.

Carmilla isn’t even the only gay vampire story of the Victorian era. I recently posted about two other fascinating examples, both featuring male/male pairings: one being pretty much just a gender-flipped version of Carmilla, and the other a tragic love story filled with significant "vampire = gay lover" metaphors (why oh why must the townsfolk keep us apart, when we’ll only ever be happy once we’re united once more?) This stuff goes surprisingly far back.

In fact, you can find queer subtext in vampire fiction that predates even Byron and Polidori. 1819's The Vampyre was the first published vampire story, yes, but the first known work of vampire-fiction in the English language is a poem published by John Stagg in 1810, also called The Vampyre (look, the genre didn’t exist yet, you didn’t have to be creative with your titles).

In brief, Stagg’s poem recounts a conversation between a wife (Gertrude) and her dying husband (Herman), whose dear friend Sigismund, lately deceased and deeply mourned, has returned as a vampire. Night after night, he crawls into Herman’s room to drain his blood. Herman’s fate is already sealed, but unless Gertrude takes action, it will surely be she that Herman will take as his own first victim when he rises from the grave.

There may be nothing intentional about the queer subtext of this tale. A vampire’s victims often include friends he knew in life, as Stagg himself cites in his introduction. But if Herman’s first victim will be his wife, what are we to read about the fact Sigismund’s first victim is Herman? Especially given how long he’s kept secret from poor Gertrude that his dear ‘friend’ has been climbing into his bedroom each night, lying beside him in bed and sucking and draining "the fountain of my heart!" while Herman moans and tosses (in pain, obviously!), always leaving him "exhausted, spent." Ultimately, Gertrude is saved only when both Herman and Sigismund are staked through the heart, and we close on the image of them slumbering together in the tomb.

It is, however you turn it, pretty gay.

I reiterate: this is the very first known work of vampire fiction written in the English language. The second was the one that was kind-of-written-by, kind-of-stolen-from, and unambiguously based on bisexual-disaster-fuckboy Lord Byron. And the two most influential works of vampire fiction of the next hundred years would be Carmilla, the very lesbian vampire story written by a… presumably straight man? And Dracula, the not-completely-convincingly-hetero story written by #1 Walt Whitman fanboy Bram Stoker. Vampires have always been very equal-opportunity kind of monsters.

There are, of course, plenty of influential heterosexual vampire tales to fill out the roster too. Varney the Vampire, a penny dreadful from the 1840s, was so successful it ran for over 200 chapters. The 1960s had their own wildly successful Varney-equivalent in the soap opera Dark Shadows. Love it or hate it, we really can't ignore Twilight either. My own introduction to the genre was Christopher Pike’s The Last Vampire series, which came out alongside the original Vampire Diaries novels. So there's plenty of material around to keep the straights entertained – and honestly, that’s only as it should be, because the very thing that makes vampires so queer-friendly is that the sex of their victims doesn’t matter. And it’s so easy to make vampires sexy (let alone a full vampire-proposal!) that even the Victorians could do it.

Now, if your reaction to all this theorising is to tell me "but the LGBTQ’s shouldn’t have to hide behind plausible deniability!" I can only counter, "well sure, but why should the straights have all the fun?" Because playing with all the ambiguity of "is this monster really just after my blood or is this going somewhere?" can be all sorts of fun, regardless of the genders involved. And as long as they’re up for exchanging bodily fluids with persons-and-or-victims of either gender equally, why not have some fun with it?

So, okay, maybe the real title of this post should have been "why are there so many pansexual vampires?" But the answer doesn’t change. Vampires have been the bisexual disaster fuckmonsters for as long as anyone’s been writing about vampires, and have been a metaphor allowing people publish barely-coded gay attraction since 1872. And much like the queer community, they’ve only become more complex, more sympathetic, and all the more popular as romantic paramours as the years have gone by.

#gay vampire stuff #Interview with the Vampire #Dracula #What We Do In The Shadows #The Lost Boys #Bram Stoker #Anne Rice #Carmilla #lesbian vampires

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margueritedaisies · 1 year ago

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Just in the mood to drawing them sl*tty

Also I just noticed Luci having dark arms, not sure if its his skin or long gloves. But both options sound hot. Gave me a genius idea to draw Luci in a latex suit, but Im thinkin the suit would be a glossy deep red to match his apple theme and make him more like an incubus with his demon form🥰🥰

Adam's lingerie Im thinking of giving it apple motif lace, cute detail

I HC Luci got an affinity over coquette lingerie on his partners, just fits his aesthetic is all

Was thinkin maybe Adam would look good with bows, frills, and berry motifs. The puffy ones are so cute too😘🤌🤌

Luci not batting an eye in getting Adam's expensive ass lingerie because he wants to have a Victoria's secret angel by the time he gets back

And then Luci coming over wearing this

Ya know he fuckin would, hes even so proud and all like " yep this definitely sets up the mood!"

#adamsapple #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x adam #guitarduck

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phantompanties · 6 months ago

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🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Body Art

Relationships: incubus oc (Lucius) x chubby!fem!reader

Summary: this is a self indulgant work because I'm a girl thats a little on the chunkier side and I've suffered body dysmorphia my whole life. I hope other chubby girlies can feel comforted by this work like how it comforts me. Also this is based off that drawing I did of the chubby reader in the lingerie this is what I said i was cooking lol

Tags: mentions of toys, body writing, comfort, mentions of body dysmorphia, oral sex, vaginal sex, body art, lingerie, switch dynamics, creampie, soft ooey gooey sweetness, laughter during sex, lucius being a huge goof

Length: 3.3k words

You stirred awake from the late morning sun shining through your window, and when you woke up, you noticed quickly that Lucius wasn’t there in your face or by your side like usual. It wasn’t uncommon, sometimes you woke up and he was in another room doing chores or making a silly art piece out of popsicle sticks and a deck of cards, but when you went to look for him, he wasn’t home at all. He didn’t carry a phone, so you couldn’t call him to ask where he was. Your question was answered when you found a little note stuck to the fridge with a heart-shaped magnet. It read: “Good morning, my love! I hope you slept well. I went out grocery shopping since we’re running low on some things. I’ll be home soon! XOXO your Lucius

Ps, I’m going to buy a few gifts for the both of us as well. I hope you’ll like what I bring home =;)”

You snorted, admiring the way he drew his little smiley faces with his horns. He was such a goof. You decided to make yourself some tea and sit on the couch for when he returns.

Around half an hour later, the lock of your front door clicked open, and in ducked your boyfriend in his human disguise, carrying tons of bags in one trip. His teal eyes lit up at the sight of you sitting on the sofa and he grinned wide. “Darling! You’re awake! How was your sleep?”

You put your cup down and came over to greet him. “Hi, Luci.” you stood up on your toes and he bent down for a kiss. “I slept fine. Are these all the bags?”

“Yep. I got everything on the list and a few extra things. Oh! And our presents.” he says the last part with a sing-song voice and holds up a pretty sizable black bag.

“Ooh, it’s heavy,” you say, weighing the bag in your hands. “What’d you get?”

“Patience, darling,” he says, putting all of the bags on the floor. “Let’s get all of this in the kitchen before we go through our spoils.”

You giggled. “Okay.”

After putting all of the groceries away, Lucius, now in his true form, excitedly led you to the living room with the black bag.

“Okay, so, context… you know when you said you wished you had some more toys the other night?”

“Is this whole bag filled with sex toys?” you ask, mouth agape.

“Yes! I picked out things especially for both you and me to use together!” he says with practically heart-shaped eyes. I got all of that and something extra special for you! Open it up!”

You pulled the bag closer to you, opening it up and pulling things out one by one. There was a small selection of dildos varying from reasonably sized to downright monstrous—he assured you that those were mostly for him unless you wanted to work towards using them one day—a couple of vibrating plugs, a rabbit vibrator—to which he said “the best for my bunny”—fuzzy handcuffs, a heart-shaped spanking paddle, a hank of black silk rope, a multi-coloured pack of skin safe graffiti markers for body writing, and most surprisingly, a strap-on. You blushed at this. “A strap?” you asked him.

“I did say I bought things for both of us.” he giggles, kissing your cheek.

You giggled, flustered. “O-oh, okay… gosh, so many new things to try…”

“And that’s not even the best part!” Lucius exclaims, looking like he was so excited he could explode. He pulled out a sleek box from a bag, handing it to you like it was Christmas morning.

You opened the box and gasped at what dwelled inside. It was a set of leather lingerie adorned with a zipper on the bra and the crotch of the panties with lace along the trim of both, leather thigh garters, and to top it off, a black leather collar with a big metal ring attached.

Lucius looked like hearts could pop out of his head. “Do you like it? When I saw it I immediately thought of how adorable you’d look! I might be biased because of my love of leather, but ahh, I can’t help it!”

“It’s beautiful Lucius, thank you…” you say, holding up the bra.

“My favourite part are the zippers.” he giggles, hugging you and swaying side to side. “It means I can ravage you without needing to take anything off! They’re so perfect…”

You flushed at the sinful thought of him unzipping the panties and taking you with them still on.

“Darling…” Lucius purrs.

“What?” you ask.

Lucius gave his best set of puppy eyes, clasping his hands to beg. “I really want to see you wearing them… pretty please? I’ll do whatever you want for a whole year…”

You snorted. “You don’t have to beg so much for that, Lucius, you goof. I’ll go change right now.”

The way the demon’s eyes lit up in such childlike joy made you wonder if he was suddenly ascending to heaven. You kissed him, called him a goober and took the box to your bedroom so you could do a grand reveal.

Once you had the door closed, you put the box on the bed and stripped. Once nude, you slipped on the panties, hooked on the thigh garters and their straps, then fitted your arms in the arm holes of the bra, zipping it up. Finally, you put the collar on, adjusting the big metal ring in front. At this point, you knew you were supposed to feel cute, but you couldn’t help but feel a little too exposed. Like, yeah, it’s lingerie, it’s supposed to be revealing… but the way it hugged your hips and squished your love handles felt… weird.

You looked into your tall mirror, trying to pinpoint where you felt wrong. Your eyes immediately went down to your belly and you frowned. To you, it looked like a busted can of biscuit dough spilling from a leather case. You pinched at the pudge that was being squished by the tight garment, lip wobbling as you felt so wrong. Your thighs in their garters looked like they were being squeezed to death, even though they weren’t that tight, and you couldn’t help but think the collar did nothing more than highlight the fat on your face. Your face fell when you realized that you hated how you looked in this garment and it made you feel terrible because Lucius was so excited…

A knock on the door jolted you from your thoughts. “Darling, are you alright in there? Are you having trouble putting it on? I can help you!” he says with that teasing lilt. You couldn’t help the sad whimper that escaped your lips, and Lucius’s voice immediately softened. “Darling? Can I come in?”

“Y-yeah…” you sniff, trying to hold in the tears.

When Lucius opened the door, he gasped, his face immediately erupting in a blue blush. “Oh, Asmodeus… you’re so-!”

“Hideous…” you finished for him.

He stopped in his tracks, eyebrows furrowing in worry. “What? No, sweetheart… I was going to say gorgeous! What’s wrong, my love? Do you not like the set?”

“N-no they’re fine… I just… I don’t like how I look… wearing them…” you mutter, looking back at your reflection.

“Oh, darling, darling, darling…” he says, walking over to you and wrapping his long arms around you. “I think you look fantastic… I’m practically salivating over here! What’s the matter?”

“Don’t I look too… big?” you ask.

“Oh, my love, don’t say things like that!” He says, gently grasping your chin and having you look at him. “You’re perfectly fine the way you are! You look so damn delicious that I’m going crazy trying to hold myself back!”

“Are you sure…?” you mumble.

“I’m one thousand percent sure. And if you’re having trouble seeing what I see from my words, then I’ll just have to show you through actions.”

Lucius’s pierced lips ghosted over yours as his large fingers intertwined with yours. “May I kiss you, darling? May I show you how beautiful you are to me?”

“Yes…” you breathed.

Lucius closed the gap, kissing you sweetly and passionately as his hands roamed down your creamy skin. His blue tongue invaded your mouth, and you sighed as one of his roaming hands groped your leather-bound breast. Gently, he guided you to your shared bed, laying you down and leaning on top of you.

“My beautiful, soft master…” he sighed, still groping your breast and kissing your neck. “So sweet and wonderful to cuddle… like a sweet teddy bear…”

You bit your lip as Lucius unzipped your bra, revealing one of your nipples, licking around it and popping it into his mouth. You moaned as he softly tugged the hardening bud between his teeth and he grinned. “Does that feel good, bunny?”

“Y-yeah…” you sigh.

“Mmmh… good… I love it when you feel good… so delicious…” Lucius revealed your other nipple, giving it the same amount of attention. “Oh, so sensitive… I love your soft chest, bunny… it makes such a nice pillow…”

His fingers trailed up and down your skin. “You’d look so good with tattoos like mine, darling… I’d trace them all day long…”

Lucius suddenly looked like a lightbulb went off in his mind. “One moment. Sorry, darling. I’ll be right back.” he gave you a quick kiss on the lips, rushing out of the bedroom, then right back in holding the pack of graffiti markers he’d purchased. “This is perfect!” he exclaims, rejoining you on the bed.

“Are you gonna draw tattoos on me?” you ask, watching him carefully open the plastic packaging.

“Better.” he giggles. “I’m gonna write everything I love about you all over you. Don’t worry, it’s washable.”

You smiled as he showed you the selection. “What colour would you like, darling? We have… magenta, dark red, black, dark blue, and purple. I'm partial to the blue, personally, but the purple doesn’t look bad either…”

“I like the purple,” you say, picking it out of the package.

“Yeah, purple? Good choice, darling… purple will look so good on you.”

Lucius put the rest of the markers aside, plucking the purple one from your fingers and undoing the cap.

“Let’s see here… where to start…” he says, giggling with anticipation.

Lucius started with your breasts, writing “soft” on one, and “squishy” on the other. His eyes lit up with joy as he fully unzipped your bra, opening it to reveal them fully, he then took the marker and drew hearts around your nipples. “I once knew a succubus with heart tattoos like this on her boobs. Honestly, it’s so cute. We should get you permanent ones.”

“On my nipples? That’d hurt so bad,” you say.

“Oh, true.” Lucius giggles. “Your nipples are so sensitive after all… maybe it’s better to stick with temporary.”

Lucius moved up onto your chest, drawing a heart organ over where your real heart would be located. Over it, he wrote: “The sweetest of hearts.”

“I didn’t know you were an artist,” you say as you look down at it.

“I’ve had plenty of years to practice.” he winks.

Moving down, he wrote “Cutie pie” on your tummy, along with “so huggable” and “gorgeous” with many hearts around them. He traced your love handles, writing “handle” on the left and “bars” on the right. You snorted as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. When he got to your womb area, he tapped the end of the marker to his lips, trying to think of something good to write. He eventually had an idea, writing something surrounded by hearts with an arrow underneath pointing to your pussy. It took a second to read it upside-down, but when you realized, you looked up at him incredulously. “Lucius’s love tunnel???” you question, laughing.

“I was hoping you’d laugh,” he says, swooning. “I love your laugh so much, darling.”

You flushed as he spread your plump thighs and licked his lips. “Oh, you have no idea how tantalizing the thought of unzipping these panties and shoving my face in there is… but no, I must write more.”

You whined. “But I want you to shove your face in there…”

“Patience, darling… I have more messages to decorate your skin.”

On both of your inner thighs, Lucius wrote “Place ears here”. Around the garters, he drew hearts and wrote “Biteable” and “so soft”.

“I can sense you’re aroused, bunny. Are my messages making you feel good? Asmodeus, you look so beautiful with markings… I’m drooling…”

“Lucius…” you whine. “I need you…”

“Just one more, my love, and I’ll give you everything you want and more.” His demonic eyes looked around for a large blank space for this last message, choosing one around your shoulder to write a big “I love you” with a bunch of hearts. You melted at this and you looked up at him with your sweet eyes. “I love you too Lucius… now take me already!”

Lucius capped the marker, throwing it to some corner of the room. “As you wish, master.” he purrs, he kisses down from your neck to your breasts, to your tummy—taking extra care to kiss and nibble there— then finally, FINALLY reaching your panties, unzipping the garment with his teeth and spreading your legs wide. He licked his now purple-smudged lips and dove in. You sobbed into the air, grabbing his horns as he licked, slurped, and sucked on your delicious clit. His tattoos glowed brightly as he siphoned that sweet lust from you, moaning and whining into your pussy. He slipped that long, pierced tongue into your drooling hole, flicking it and curling his prehensile muscle like a tentacle as he looked up into your watery eyes. Fuck, the view of you watching him eat your pussy made him throb, and he ground his bulge into the bed to soothe the ache of his cock. You bucked your hips and wailed. Fuck he felt so goddamn good. You couldn’t take much longer. When he licked a long stripe up your folds and kissed your clit, you came hard, and he rushed to lick up that sweet sweet nectar. He withdrew his long tongue into his mouth, groaning and biting his lip. “Oh, my love… my sweet girl… your love tunnel tastes so good…”

You snorted, playfully smacking his chest. “Don’t call it that! You’re so embarrassing!”

“Aww come on, you love it! You’re laughing!”

The two of you giggled, and he crawled back up to kiss you. The two of you made out for a moment before you pulled off and looked him in his eyes. “I wanna suck it,” you say, grinning.

“Oh? Isn’t this supposed to be me making you feel good?” he teases.

“Pleeeeaaase?” you whine. I want it so bad…”

Lucius giggled as he pecked your lips. “Who am I to deny my master what she wants?”

Lucius moved off of you so you could move, and you both swapped positions so he leaned against the headboard. You started at his lips, kissing them sweetly and passionately. Slowly, you moved down, kissing his neck and chest, tracing his tattoos with your tongue. You went over to one of his pierced nipples, licking and kissing the pert bud. Lucius sighed, intertwining your fingers. “You make me crazy, darling… mmf…”

You smirked as you continued to kiss and lick down, unzipping his jeans and letting his cock spring free. Lucius aided you in taking his pants off, and you took his hard cock in your hand, stroking it up and down slowly. “Fuck, you’re so hard…” you say, admiring the blue tip that wept with precum. “You must be aching…”

“Mmmhn… I am, darling… fuck, the way you stroke me like that is so nice…”

“Yeah? Do you like it when I do this?” you as softly as you run your thumb along his sensitive tip. The demon shuddered. “Mmngh… yes, sweetheart…” he rolled his head back. “I love your soft hands…”

You dipped your head and gave him a nice long lick up the underside of his shaft, paying special attention to his piercings. Sweet lord the whine and full-body shiver that left this man could’ve made you cum on the spot. You swirled your tongue around his tip, getting it nice and wet. Bit by bit you began to work it into your mouth, getting it as far as you could fit without gagging. The amount you couldn’t fit you stroked in your hands as you worked the shaft up and down, up and down. You breathed through your nose, making sure to run your tongue over his most sensitive spots while you took his cock in your mouth.

“Ahhh… oh, fuck, darling… fuck…!” Lucius whines. “S-so good! You’re so good at sucking my cock! Unnh… I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna cum, darling…!”

At this, you pulled him out of your throat, squeezing at the base. He sobbed at the loss of that delicious stimulation. “Master…!”

“Not yet, Luci.” you giggle. “I want you to cum inside me.”

Lucius licked his lips, grinning wide. “Oh, in that case… I’d be happy to. Come, bunny, let me lie down flat.”

You got up off the bed, letting Lucius lie down on his back. He patted his lap. “Come here, darling, lie on top of me. I’ll take care of you.”

You crawled on top of Lucius, lying on your back across his tall body. He raised your hips with his clawed hands, rubbing his length up and down your drooling pussy. “Did sucking my cock make you this wet? Oh, darling…”

“Mmnnh… Lucius… fuck me…” you begged.

Lucius lined up with your hole, shoving it in easily with how wet you were. You whined as Lucius grunted from how fucking DELICIOUS it was to have your gummy walls squeezing his cock. “Oh fuck, bunny… mmnghh… that’s good… so fucking tight on me… good girl… such a good girl…” he moaned, kissing your neck as he began thrusting up into your pussy and roaming his hands across your body.

“Luciuuuuss!” you sobbed. “God, yes, Lucius…! I love you…!”

“Nnh… I love you too darling, fuck… Asmodeus, your pussy is sucking me in… it feels so so so fucking good, baby… nnh… say something for me, baby… say you’re beautiful…”

“I-I’m beautiful…!” you gasped. Lucius pulled the ring on your collar as he thrust harder. “Good girl… now say you’re perfect the way you are…”

“I’m… p-perfect the way I am… nngh!”

“Fffucckkkk… so good, bunny… I can feel you tightening on me… do you like it when I tell you how much you mean to me? Do you like it when I have you say how beautiful you are? Fuck, yes you do, darling… you can’t hide it from me… you’re so close… let me help you with that…”

You sobbed as Lucius’s deft fingers rubbed your clit in tight circles, mewling as his pierced cock hit you in all the right places as he fucked into you and kissed your cervix. “Come on… cum… cum for me… cum on my fucking cock… say you’re beautiful as you cream on me, bunny…”

“Ahh… annh… fuck!!!” you sobbed. “I’m beautiful! I’m so beautiful, FUCK!” you wailed as the tension snapped.

Lucius whined as your walls fluttered and gushed on his cock, and he gave one last deep thrust before he painted your insides white with his cum.

The two of you panted heavily as you rested on each other, basking in the afterglow. Lucius chuckled as he kissed your shoulder. “So… do you feel better, my love?”

“Yeah…” you sigh. “I feel much better…”

“Good.” he giggles, peppering your neck in kisses. “I’m so happy when you’re happy, darling.”

#incubus x reader #oc x reader #incubus oc #lucius x reader #lucius the incubus #monster fucker #smut #monster lover #chubby reader

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kittenofdoomage · 3 months ago

Text

At Your Throat

THIS WORK IS ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST OR COPY MY STORIES. 18+ CONTENT AHEAD.

Summary: Temptation is hard to resist…

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Pairing: incubus!Steve Rogers x fem!reader x incubus!Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 5972

Warnings: dark!fic, angst, introverted!reader, dubious consent, enchantments, so much smut (somnophilia, implied invisible restraint, oral, fingering, tongue fucking, size kink, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, anal, manhandling, throat fucking, cum swallowing, squirting, double penetration, overstimulation, praise kink, dirty talk, begging, marking/bruising, rimming - I think that’s everything), ambiguous ending

The fair isn’t anything like you remembered from your childhood. When Lucy and Mark suggested going, you had initially been excited, but as the night wears on, it’s all bright lights and screaming kids, candy floss that’s too sickly sweet for your adult taste buds, and the worry that you’re going to step in something gross. It doesn’t help that you’re dateless, and your two best friends are still in that honeymoon phase where they don’t really register the amount of smooching they’re actually doing in public. Needless to say, you’re not sure they hear you when you say you’re going to explore on your own, with every intention of finding a quiet bench until they’re done with their fun.

The site is huge, big enough that you have to remember landmarks as you stroll. Beyond the ferris wheel, there’s a quieter spot between a wall and a merchandise stall where you find a cleanish spot, and you barely notice the woman at the stall as you sink to the floor. Your feet hurt, and you’re definitely regretting your decision not to bring a coat.

“Lost your friends?” the woman calls.

“Uh,” you shake your head, “no.”

“Taking a breather then,” she chuckles.

You smile politely - interacting with strangers has always made you uneasy. “Yeah, I guess.” She smiles back, busying herself with something out of sight. Dragging your gaze along the table, you realize she’s selling trinkets, though most of it looks like the back catalog of Hot Topic. You get to your feet and wander over, perusing the rings and pendants. “I didn’t know the fair had stalls like this.”

“There used to be more,” the woman sighs. “We’d sell all sorts of things but… well, times change.” She smiles wistfully, resting her fingers on the edge of the table. “I used to be the fortune teller here. People would always line up to see their future. Now, it seems everyone is terrified to ask.”

You could sympathize with that. A crystal ball would probably show you in an apartment with a thousand cats with the way your life was turning out. Your eyes stray to the stand of pendants, and something red catches the fluorescent flood lights in the distance. It’s a stone, a ruby maybe, an oval set in ornate silver, no bigger than a dime, hanging from a silver chain. In the very center of the stone, there’s a flaw, shaped almost like a lock.

The woman notices your trance, moving just into the edge of your peripheral vision. “Something took your fancy?” she asks curiously.

“It’s pretty,” you whisper, reaching out to touch the stone but drawing back at the last second. You can’t recall a single moment in your life you’ve ever wanted something this badly, not even as a kid. “How much is it?”

The woman smiles, but you don’t see it. “It’s a gift.”

There’s a little voice in your head warning you, yet you can’t imagine why. You ignore it, focusing instead on your desire to have the necklace. “Really?”

“Oh please, no one’s come by all night,” she scoffs. “It’s nice to talk to someone. Kids these days aren’t interested in this sort of stuff.”

“That’s very kind of you,” you murmur, though your eyes are still locked on the gem, rooted to the flaw in the middle. You don’t stop staring at it even when she lifts it from the stand, walking around the table to hold it out to you.

“Would you like to put it on?”

It feels like you’re moving automatically when you turn, moving when required so that she can fasten the locket at your throat. The silver is cool, heavier than you expected, but when you look in the mirror, it makes you smile. Jewelry isn’t usually your style, but this was subtle, classy, and probably went with everything.

Someone calls your name and it’s like you’ve been dragged back into reality. The woman moves off, disappearing through the back of the tent, and Lucy comes running up, red faced and breathless. “Where’d you go?!” she exclaims, grabbing your wrist. “Come on, Mark’s waiting for us by the ghost train.”

You grin and bear the rest of the evening, pretending to be frightened of the zombies and skeletons, almost sighing with relief when you could finally call an Uber home. Lucy attempts to coax you to a local bar but your social battery is done, and besides, you know you’re the third wheel and she’s just trying to make you feel better. They see you to the car, and wave you off, and you feel like you can breathe again once you’re away from the noise. The driver doesn’t speak the whole way - he’ll get five stars for that later.

Once you’re back in your apartment, you can shed the day, stripping down before climbing into the shower. The fair has left you feeling a little gross, but five minutes under a hot spray washes the feeling away, and you forget about the necklace until you’re staring at your foggy reflection in the mirror.

Maybe you should take it off before you sleep. It might break, or choke you. You reach for the clasp, and then your phone buzzes across your nightstand, distracting you. With the necklace on, you go to answer the text; it’s a photo from Lucy with a short line of text insisting you’re missing out. You smirk, necklace forgotten, and climb into bed, putting your phone on silent until the next morning.

The sounds of your apartment lull you to sleep. The heating comes on, and you kick off your pajama bottoms, squirming in the sheets as your dreams become more vivid. You can’t see anything, can’t move, but you can feel the warm hands on your skin, touching you, moving your clothing out of their way as they kiss every inch of you. You know there’s two of them, too many hands for one person, and after a little while, they start to talk to each other, soft murmurs of indistinguishable words.

A warm tongue slides through your folds and sends a shiver down your spine. Your dream lovers spread you open, easily manipulating you like a doll, and when the mouth on your cunt attacks your clit, you want to cry out for more. Another warm pair of lips surrounds your nipple, and you’re lost in the sensation, at their mercy but wholly content to be so.

You wake the next morning feeling like you’ve actually had several orgasms, and your panties are drenched. There’s a wet spot on the bed; your dreams were very good even if you can’t quite remember the details, so you change the sheets before work, rushing so you’re not late.

It’s hard to focus at work when you’re still thinking about your dream. You somehow get through the day, zoning out while typing, ignoring all your messages and emails for the time being. When you get home, all you can think about is going to bed, but you force yourself to stay up a little longer, eating dinner in front of Netflix until you can’t resist the call any longer. The sheets are a little chilly when you climb in; you warm up quickly and doze off contentedly.

You can open your eyes in this dream. The air is warm, and your blankets are gone, along with your pajama bottoms, and though you can’t see much in the darkness of your room, you can make out the figure that’s between your thighs. His hands are pushing them wide, and he pushes his nose right against the crotch of your panties, groaning against you. Your heart pounds as his tongue drags along your seam, reigniting the delicious thrill you’ve been craving all day.

The bed sinks with the weight of another, and a meaty hand grasps your jaw, forcing your head to turn. You strain your eyes to look up, coming face to face with a thick, erect cock, and you can barely see the face of its owner smiling down at you. He doesn’t say a word, tapping the tip of his generous manhood against your bottom lip, and your mouth opens automatically, granting him permission to use you.

There’s no rush as he rocks his hips, pushing more and more into your mouth. Finally, he says something, looking down at you like you’re a miracle with one hand on your cheek. “Good girl,” he praises, and you feel a pulse of something new in your core. His voice is syrupy thick, washing over you as you take more of his cock, eager to please him.

You’ve almost forgotten about the man between your legs, until his tongue is pressing right against your entrance. It thrusts into you, feeling deeper than you’re sure is possible, and you moan around the other, letting your eyes fall shut. The need to cum is unbearable, like a pressure right in your gut, building higher as the tongue inside you squirms deeper. You try to focus on what you’re doing, inching to move your hand and touch him, but no matter how hard you think on it, you can’t. Your climax is terrifyingly close, more intense than you’ve ever felt and just as you feel like you’re going to pass out, the man between your legs stops and withdraws.

A hollow ache follows as the build up fades, and this time you moan out of frustration. Both of them laugh, and then fingers caress your throbbing cunt, cupping it and kneading teasingly. You whine, desperate to move, but you can only take what they give and beg for no more.

Two fingers sink into you. An obscene squelch accompanies the penetration, and you moan again. The cock in your mouth plows deeper, brushing the back of your throat; you realize with shame that you’re enjoying this degradation, enjoying the rush of being their fucktoy. You crave whatever they want to do to you.

A third finger sinks in, moving back and forth alongside the others, and you can feel the pressure building again. The man’s tongue slides against your clit, increasing the thrust of his hand, making stars explode behind your closed eyelids. You’re certain you’re vibrating, and the one fucking your mouth picks up speed, edging deeper until you feel like he’s bulging your throat. The lack of oxygen heightens everything, and when you finally cum, it’s hard and messy, a literal out of body experience. You feel the cock in your mouth throb, the next second your nose is brushing against hair, and he’s cumming thick down your throat, forcing you to swallow.

It’s the most erotic dream you’ve ever had.

When you wake, you’re a mess, and the wet spot is even bigger than the morning before. You’re going to need to do laundry at this rate. Sluggishly, you drag yourself out of bed, readying yourself for the day while clinging to the details of your dream, surprised that it’s still so clear even when you’ve had your first cup of coffee. It takes another two to get through the morning, and you’re relieved when it’s lunch time.

Lucy calls halfway through your sandwich. You answer with a pleasant tone, but you can tell she’s concerned by her first words.

“I thought something had happened to you,” she scolds. “You haven’t answered for two days.”

“I’m fine,” you dismiss, one hand straying to the necklace at your throat, wondering how you’d forgotten it was there. “Did you enjoy your night out?”

“You missed some fun,” she sighs. “What are you doing tonight? I thought we could go see a movie or -”

“Oh, no, uh -” You panic, trying to think of an excuse. “It’s been a really heavy couple of days at work, I’m pretty beat.”

It’s obvious she’s disappointed. “You’re sure? You can pick the movie.”

“No, you go with Mark,” you urge. All you want to do is go home to bed. “I’ll only yawn all the way through.”

“Okay, well…” She trails off, and you wait, hoping she’s just going to end the call so you can finish your sandwich. “Just let me know when things calm down. I don’t see you much lately. I thought we had fun at the fair.”

“We did!” you lie, because you don’t really want her to feel bad. It’s not her fault you prefer staying indoors and away from people. “I promise, as soon as I’m feeling up to it, we’ll have a girls night or something.”

That seems to placate her. “Deal,” she laughs. “I’ll text you later.”

The call ends, and you eye the rest of your sandwich, wondering if you could leave work early if you cut your lunch short. After a few minutes of deliberation, you toss it, deciding to get something on the way home once you’ve gotten out of the office.

You don’t even try to convince yourself to stay up when you get home. The sun has only just set as you get into bed, daringly deciding to sleep naked for a change. Laying on your back, you feel the weight of the necklace against your chest, and you touch it, wondering if you should take it off just in case, but your eyelids are already heavy, and it means moving to the dresser…

You’re woken in pitch black by two fingers slowly sliding back and forth inside you, and you mewl needily, spreading your legs wide. The realization you can move is quickly shoved aside as a thumb begins to stroke your clit in small circles, and you know that they’ve been getting started for a while when you feel how wet you are.

One of them leans over you, hovering with his face centimeters from yours. You can see him clearly now; he’s blond, blue eyed, almost ethereally handsome, and he smiles before dipping his mouth to press it to your lips. The kiss surprises you for a second and then you react, kissing him back as he pushes his tongue against yours. He tastes sweet, addicting, pulling away after only a few seconds to leave you craving more.

“Bucky wants to have you first,” he murmurs, turning his gaze to the hungry eyes between your legs. He’s a little clearer now as your eyes adjust to the dark, and where the first man is light, Bucky is dark. The only similarities between them is their eerily blue eyes and their sheer size. You feel tiny underneath them, submissive to their whims, and your easy acceptance of that is a little shocking at first.

Bucky adds a third finger, keeping his thumb on your clit. You gasp and squirm, quickly finding yourself pinned by the blond. He uses one hand to hold you down and the other cups your breast, tweaking your nipple until it’s achingly hard. With the trio of sensations, you’re helpless to the ecstasy that overwhelms you, forced to ride it out until Bucky withdraws his hand.

“She’s as ready as she’s gonna get,” he murmurs, making a lewd display of licking his fingers clean. “You gotta taste her, Steve.”

Steve chuckles, gaze locked on you. “Later,” he promises, pinching your nipple and you whimper, unable to tear your eyes off of him.

The thick warm tip of a cock brushes your cunt. There’s a second of alarm when Bucky begins to thumb it in, and he’s big, maybe too big. You’re pinned by Steve’s weight, and Bucky’s hands press your thighs wide, feeding the first inch into your tight slick channel. “She’s fucking tight,” he hisses, moving his thumb to your clit.

You can’t form words, too lost in the pleasurable stretch as he enters you. He rocks back and forth, getting a little deeper every time, and then it’s like something pops and he slides balls deep, punching a cry out of your throat. Your whole body trembles at the sudden rush of sensation, and Bucky only waits a few seconds before he starts to move with shallow strokes. You feel like you’re thrown headfirst into bliss, barely registering Steve’s hands on your tits as Bucky fucks you.

If this is a dream, it’s the most vivid dream you’ve ever had. You can feel the heat coming off of them, every throb of the thick cock spearing you open, even their breath on your skin. Steve’s fingers are soft and calloused as they continue to toy with your breasts, and Bucky’s grip on your thighs is bruising. He gets faster and faster, grunting like an animal as you come undone around him, going limp and listless while he uses you.

Steve scoots down until he’s almost laying beside you, lips against the shell of your ear. “You’ve been such a good girl for us,” he purrs, trailing his fingertip around your nipple. “You want him to cum, honey?” You nod, feeling tears of desperation in the corners of your eyes. Steve smiles, rolling your nipple between his fingers. “Mmm, you wanna feel it, huh? Tell me, sweetness, say the words.”

“Please,” you keen as Bucky growls and pumps his hips faster. “Please cum inside me.”

“Oh, good girl,” Steve groans, turning his head to look at his counterpart. “You hear that, Buck? She wants you to cum deep, see if you can’t make her overflow.”

You feel like your brain is melting, like there’s nothing in the world but the carnal need infusing your veins. Bucky’s hips stutter, and he finally hits his peak, slamming into you one last time, hard enough to make you scream as he spills inside you. Every pulse of his climax echoes in your gut, and you shake your head from side to side, dizzy from pleasure. He relaxes, releasing your legs, and they hit the bed either side of him, forcing him to withdraw.

Steve’s still laying beside you, continuing to touch you. You’re sensitive all over, shivering as the warmth abandons you, and when his fingers move south, you’re not certain you can take anymore. “I can’t,” you gasp.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “I don’t believe you,” he dismisses, and his fingertip slides down until it’s touching your clit. From across the room, Bucky laughs, watching as your thighs part again. Steve’s touch is already reigniting the craving, and when he pulls you into his lap, you gasp as your slit comes flush with his bare cock. He’s bigger than Bucky, seeding doubt as he pulls your hips to grind your cunt against his length.

“She’s nervous,” Bucky comments, kneeling on the bed behind you.

“She can take it,” Steve urges. His hand catches your chin, and Bucky presses against you from behind. “She just needs a little help.”

Strong arms hook underneath your armpits, and you’re hauled up. Steve reaches down, holding the base of his cock with one hand, using the other to spread your delicate petals, making you whine when he brushes the throbbing head against you. The men share a look, and then Bucky lowers you down.

Your head falls back as Steve splits you open. Even with your previous orgasms and Bucky’s preparation, it takes work for him to get in, and you’re quivering when gravity takes over. You slide down until your body is flush with his, gasping for breath when it feels like he’s so deep he’ll break you, and Bucky’s the only thing keeping you upright.

Steve groans with deep satisfaction. “Made for this,” he mutters with awe, running his hands over your thighs. “Look at this little cunt, taking me so well.”

The second he moves, you shatter. You have no control; Bucky holds you up as Steve ruts into you from below, forcing you to accept every inch over and over, and you know that no real life experience could ever compare with this dream. You’ll surrender everything to these men if they ask, exist as their perfect little fucktoy, beg for more when they’re done.

You see stars when Steve fucks you through one orgasm into another. Bucky shifts, holding you easily with one muscled arm as he presses his fingers between your asscheeks. He chuckles when you tense, and Steve groans when he feels it too. “Mmm, another time,” Bucky murmurs hungrily. “Bet you’d take both of us at the same time, wouldn’t you, doll?”

It hasn’t really occurred to you before that moment but now you can’t stop thinking about it. Bucky’s fingers keep teasing, steadily stoking a new craving that makes your whole face hot. You want it. You’re sure you’ll beg for it.

Steve’s fingers bruise your thighs as he cums, dragging you down so hard you think he might break you. You feel swollen when he’s done, and you resist them at last, crashing down into your sheets.

When you wake, it’s an hour after your alarm should have gone off. There are bruises on your thighs, and you’re beginning to think that they aren’t just dreams. As you stand in front of the mirror, inspecting the marks that were obviously made by fingers, your gaze drifts to the necklace, still secure around your throat. You touch it, leaning forward, making the connection that the dreams only started after it came into your possession.

“That’s stupid,” you grumble, dismissing yourself. You’re going to be late for work, and though you’re tempted to call in sick, you get into the office with thirty seconds to spare and earn yourself a dressing down for not being at your desk ready to work on time.

By lunch, it’s apparent you don’t want to be there. You feign a headache and sit through another grilling, then you escape, returning home to your bed. It’s not even three in the afternoon, and you lie there for an hour, slowly frowning more and more as you stare at the ceiling and will yourself to sleep. Nothing happens, so you get up again, deciding to eat before trying again when it’s dark. You’ve never been able to sleep very well in the light, so you put it down to that and enjoy a couple of hours of Brooklyn Nine Nine with a sandwich.

Night falls, and you feel the familiar pull to bed. You yawn your way through your apartment, undressing without thinking before you climb onto the mattress, landing face down. Your eyes flutter shut, and you drift, wondering if you’ll dream about them again. Halfway between awake and asleep, you register the bed dipping, but you’re out of it, and it takes soft fingers caressing your sex to make you realize they’re back. There’s an atmosphere of desperation about the way they’re touching you, and in seconds, the fingers are replaced, and Steve slides into you with one smooth stroke, moaning against the back of your neck.

You’re awake now, eyes open wide and fixed on Bucky’s smiling face as he takes up the space left on the bed. It’s not a dream; you’re beginning to understand that they’ve never been a figment of your imagination. Steve chuckles into your skin, wrapping his arm around your waist as he starts to thrust lazily, stirring every cell in your body. “That’s it,” he rumbles, “you’re getting it now.”

Bucky presses in close, sandwiching you between them. His fingers toy with your nipples, kissing away your sounds as Steve pounds into you from behind, pushing you towards the limit of what your cunt can endure. “You’re ours,” Bucky murmurs, as if you hadn’t understood the possessiveness in their touch, the hunger in the way they looked at you.

Still, your curiosity won’t be silenced. “W-what are you?” you gasp, struggling to form the words while Steve keeps up his punishing rhythm.

Fingertips brush over the necklace. It’s hot against your skin, and you keen quietly as Steve slows, grinding his cock deep until you’re sure you’re going to combust. “You chose this,” Bucky says softly. “You crave this.” He sighs, one hand cupping your breast. “You’re so good for us.”

There’s a deeper meaning behind his words, but you’re too far gone to think any further than the pleasure you crave. Bucky laughs under his breath and slides down the bed, lifting your thigh to expose you, humming at the sight of your pussy so stuffed full. His tongue darts out, brushing against your clit and you cry out, shuddering on the edge.

Steve withdraws abruptly, leaving behind a hollow ache that makes you reach for Bucky. He bats your hand away, and then you’re being manhandled onto your knees. Held upright with your back to Bucky’s chest, you gasp as his lips brush your ear and he grinds his cock between your ass cheeks.

“Tonight,” he breathes, voice full of desire, “you’re going to take us both.”

Your heart races, pounding so hard you can feel it in your bones. Steve smirks at you, resting against the headboard with one hand wrapped around his dick, and if you had a spare brain cell, you might have felt ashamed at the way you crawled to him, mouth open and ready to please him. He releases himself so you can take over, moaning as you wrap your lips around his cockhead, suckling needily.

You don’t really register what Bucky’s up to until his tongue traces your cunt. He grunts against you, opening you up slowly as you moan around Steve, getting more enthusiastic the more Bucky works his tongue into you. It still feels impossibly long, and when he suddenly abandons your slit and moves up, you freeze, realizing that he’s about to do something no one’s ever done.

He doesn’t rush. You move distractedly as the point tip of his tongue circles your tightest hole, gently testing as he applies pressure. It’s not unpleasant, odd, but enjoyable, and you slowly begin to relax into it. Steve slides his hand around the side of your head, thrusting his hips a little to encourage you, and splitting your attention between the two of them occupies every thought. Bucky’s tongue presses deeper, opening you up, and you break off from Steve to cry out in surprise. You find yourself quickly dragged back down by the blond, and he growls as he starts to fuck your mouth, leaving you dizzy and soaring as Bucky replaces his tongue with a thick wet digit, sliding it deep into your ass.

The penetration feels warm and unusual, and your pussy throbs with a need for attention. Your jaw is beginning to ache, and Steve somehow senses it, slowing as his attention moves to where Bucky has your ass filled with his finger. He smiles, nodding his head at the other male, and a second finger inches in, just as warm and slick as the first. You moan around the cock in your mouth, instinctively pushing back as Bucky fucks his fingers into you, abandoning slow in favor of taking you apart.

Steve doesn’t have to do much as you move with a little more vigor, taking him deep enough that your eyes roll back and it’s hard not to gag. “Oh fuck,” he drawls, tightening his hold on your hair. “Goddamn, you’re such a good girl…”

You’re not sure how you’re so close with just fingers. Where before there was apprehension, there’s now only the demand for more, and you push back onto Bucky again in a silence request. He nips at your asscheek, growling lightly. “You think you’re ready, doll?”

You nod, squeaking when you’re abruptly dragged off of Steve and hauled upright again. Bucky holds your arms behind your back, sinking his fingers into your ass easily this time. “P-please,” you beg, sobbing with the desire to feel more of what he’s offering.

He releases you, and you drop, ass in the air, cheek against the messed up sheets. Steve watches, amusement on his lips, eyes locked on your face to see your reaction when Bucky presses the tip of his cock against your clenching hole. The thought of lube races through your head when he starts to ease in; you don’t recall seeing any, but his cock is just as warm and wet as his fingers. The tip pops in and your eyes cross, a shuddering breath puffing out into cotton.

“I thought her pussy was tight,” Bucky groans, holding still. Your impatience gets the better of you, and you wriggle, trying to take more. You succeed, making him moan as more fills you. “Someone’s eager,” he comments, grabbing hold of your hips. “You want the whole thing, huh?”

You don’t get a chance to answer. He surges forward, sinking every inch into your forbidden depths and you scream, clenching tightly as the invasion makes your blood sing. It’s overwhelming, hot and thick, throbbing in your ass until you’re desperate for him to move. He doesn’t move, keeping you in place, and when you look at Steve, he’s watching you with a thoughtful expression.

“Pull her up,” he instructs. Bucky doesn’t think twice, and you’re suddenly upright again, forced to practically impale yourself on his thick length. Steve hums as he kneels in front of you, looking up at your twisted expression before he reaches for you. The first touch of his thumb against your clit makes you jerk in Bucky’s hold, and a shameful whimper escapes your lips. “Let’s see if you can cum with a fat cock in your ass,” Steve chuckles.

You know he’s going to get what he wants. Despite your achingly empty pussy, you’re hanging onto the edge, and it doesn’t take much to make you weep with ecstasy. Steve still doesn’t stop, working you harder and harder. “Please,” you sob, “I can’t -”

“You said that before,” he grunts, narrowing his eyes. “I can feel how close you are, honey.” His thumb presses harder, and your cries get louder. Bucky huffs against your shoulder, and then he begins to move too. The slow drag of his cock against your insides only adds to the pressure in your core, building to a terrifying crescendo. “Give it to her, Buck,” Steve growls. “She wants it.”

You’re drowning, gasping for breath, twitching, losing your fight. The battle is over when Steve sinks a finger into your dripping cunt, and seconds later, you’re drenching his wrist, cumming with such ferocity that you don’t make a sound. Bucky slows and stops, but he doesn’t withdraw, holding himself deep. “No more games,” he snaps at Steve, who rolls his eyes and pulls his hands away, walking closer on his knees until he can lift your legs.

Suddenly the solidity of the bed below you is gone. Something is holding you up, though you get only a few seconds to figure out what’s going on before Steve’s thumbing his cock into your sensitive and aching cunt. You gasp, eyes falling shut as he fills you, and finally, they’re both seated deep in your body - it feels more like becoming whole than it should.

They don’t wait long before they start to move. You don’t make a sound, quivering between them as they use you, so overly sensitive that one of them could brush your clit with a feather and you’d cum. Just the delicious slide of each cock inside you, in and out, in and out, grinding deep, is enough to keep the bliss ignited in your veins. It’s exquisite, like you were meant for this.

Bucky cums first, holding deep so you can feel every single burst of his seed inside you, and when he’s done, he starts thrusting again, still hard and throbbing despite his orgasm. Steve doesn’t even stop thrusting, making a mess of your already ruined cunt, chuckling when you look down at your bulging stomach. You’re not sure how many more loads you can take, but it seems they’re intent on finding out.

It feels like hours later when Steve cradles your face, wiping away the sweat that’s almost blinding you. “You wanted to know what we are,” he whispers, and it’s all you can do to nod. He sighs, brushing his fingers over the necklace at your throat, lips curling into a smile. “Incubi,” he says, so quietly you almost can’t hear it over the thump of your own heart. “You wear our stone. You called to us. So we are here.”

There are so many questions but your exhaustion silences them all. You drift off in their hold, still full of them, drunk on them.

You wake with a jump the next morning. Their touch - real, not imagined, you now understand - lingers on you, inside you, and you can’t stop thinking about it. Climbing into the shower, you wash away what they left behind, trying to make sense of it, to make sense of why you’re not freaking out. Two strange men have been in your apartment, in your room consistently every night, touching you, doing ungodly things to your body, and you aren’t the least bit frightened. They had told you what they were, why they were there, yet you aren’t scared of them, more of the deep rooted lust for them that’s burning through your mind.

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you suddenly realize how wretched you look. Your gaze drops to the necklace, back to their words. It’s their talisman, their way of infecting you. Before you can second guess yourself, you tear it off, breaking the clasp, and it clatters when it hits the back of the sink and lands behind the faucet.

You don’t look at it again. After calling out from work, you spend the day alternating between fruitless searches online for anything like what you were experiencing, and pacing the floor outside the bathroom. The internet tells you these men are incubi, demons, and that their purpose is to feed from you during sex, among other things you hadn’t been able to stomach reading. You’re not sure how much stock to put in myths and legends on the internet.

The day crawls by. You order food, eat it in silence, flick through the various streaming services before turning the television off in frustration. No matter what you do, the thought of them is there, of the necklace sitting on the sink, of the pleasure they guaranteed you. You’ve never felt needed, felt wanted like they’ve made you feel in the last few days. You hunger for their touch like you’ll suffocate without it.

Day turns to night. You’re almost clawing at your skin. The craving for them is bone deep, the sort of desire that you should be terrified of, but mostly it’s driving you mad. You watch the clock, counting the seconds. The night gets older and you get weaker.

The bathroom door creaks when you open it. You tug on the light cord, and the fluorescent ceiling tube flickers to life. The necklace is right where you left it.

It’s not broken anymore.

You stare at it, fingers twitching when you finally reach to touch it. Their voices are in your head now, beckoning you, and you can’t block them out. The necklace is heavy in your hand, and the tiny warning you’d first felt at the fair is begging you to toss it out of the window. But the warning is not loud enough, not to override the desire drying out your mouth, and you sigh with relief as you fasten it back around your throat, closing your eyes at the familiar weight.

“We knew you’d make the right choice,” Steve murmurs.

You open your eyes. They’re both watching you from the doorway, reflecting in the mirror, and they look so, so hungry. The light flickers, and you smile your surrender as you turn to them, letting them pull you closer. Everything else falls away; it’s only you and them.

You’ll never take the necklace off again.

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