#regardless i get to lick the blood off them

[madaqueue]

guys im sorry but bleeding lips are so hot

[anantaru]

GENSHIN + HE TALKS YOU THROUGH IT

— ꒰ including ꒱ — diluc, wriothesley, childe, ayato

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — dirty talk, oral (fem! receiving) rough syx & dom genshin men, petnames used: baby, love, darling, good girl, pussy drunk men, fem! reader ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ

— ꒰ DILUC ꒱

you wince, before feeling diluc's hands caress your frame softly as he urges you towards the bed slightly, "lay down, c’mon hurry for me, i will get on my knees for you," your face burned at his words, your blood boiling extremely hot— regardless, you do not go against your boyfriends instructions and obediently drop on your back, head bouncing against the soft pillows and legs propped up your heels.

diluc follows you right away, settling his hands against your lower stomach, "let me slip these off you," and his voice was pummeling into your blood, sounding raspier than usual, presenting himself teasingly, taunting

how can someone be so sexy, yet also gentleman alike at the very same time?

you always wonder and never find an answer.

his fingers are skillful, yet they are also dangerous, feverishly slipping into the waistband of your wet panties to slide them off you— your pussy bare and exposed now, clenching around nothing as it earns you a disgustingly sinful groan from him.

"there you go, you're so pretty," he breathes and spits on your clit before rubbing the saliva over your puffy folds with his digits, "my pretty girl."

diluc leans into your thighs and places a subtle kiss on your knee, holding a crooked smile— such kiss was certainly concealing something beneath the surface, mingled with aroused ideas of how the next couple of hours will look like.

"you know what to do, right?" he motions, getting on his knees as his dick presses painfully against his tight pants. of course, you know what he's talking about and situate your legs against his shoulders, earning yourself an appreciate hum from the red haired man.

without a word, warm air wafts over your slicked folds and trembling skin as diluc's fingers hold against you gently, the tip of his wet muscle experimentally nudging at the hood of your sensitive clit.

he doesn't falter in his rhythm and gives your cunt a good, fat lap of tongue and saliva before trailing down to your hole.

he noses his way to your clit and presses his mouth against it firmly, your cunt throbbing at the connect of his tongue licking you in shifting patterns, the vehement sounds of saliva and arousal slapping and slapping and splattering all over his tongue had your toes curled, lips parted.

"ooh you taste so good darling, you taste so fucking good, fuck—" he moans, and he sounded so desperate, like he's going to skip the foreplay once and for all and fuck you into the bee until you couldn't walk nor move for weeks.

your legs entwine and shiver on his shoulders, your control over your body lost and slipping from the palms of your hands as murmurs of encouragement hit your sensitive pussy— your fingers splayed possessively into his scarlet hair as you ride his face and cry his name.

"let me make you feel good, it's gonna feel good, promise," diluc mumbles into your cunt as his nose continuously nudges into your puffy clit, his slender fingers probing at your hole when his tongue laps around you.

in between your quivering thighs— everything felt wet, disgustingly sloppy and so hot and you wonder if diluc didn't secretly use his vision on you to get this particular effect from you.

alas, his slacked mouth was meeting your hips, your core stuttering up into his face as you craved, no, needed more friction, needed more of his voice crumbling at the taste of you as your eyes drift over the fluffy clouds of pleasure in your head.

— ꒰ WRIOTHESLEY ꒱

wriothesley looks down on your twisted expression and a sheen line of sweat pillowing on your forehead, "look at me," his face was tilted at the side as you felt his complete weight cover, crush and fold your body in half.

the press and burn of his cock was breaching in and out of you fast, in fact, yes, wriothesley was aware of your strong liking towards his dominating aura in the bedroom, especially when he's looking at you through glazed eyes and his sweat laced chest rising and falling when you clench around him.

he knows it all, and he's been wanting to pleasure you over and over all this time.

"look at me in my eyes," he commands again, forcing you to look at him, yet all you could muster was to part your eyes slightly, an overcast mist of salaciousness prevailing over you.

he shatters, widens and parts your sloppy hole effortlessly, turning you addicted off the strong, thick compress in your pussy that you almost didn't even realize he's managed to coax literal tears from your eyes, pull them out one by one, small crystals sinfully glimmering on your sticky lashes and shouting more more more.

"you're so good, you're so good, my good fucking girl," he drawls proudly and smirks down at you, his voice explosive with thirst and longing, "my good girl, mine, you hear me?" as he assures you and moves his hips with one quick roll of his dripping dick, beginning to fuck into you.

wriothesley knows you deserve it, deserve to be bounced back and forth the bed until you're full of his semen, yes, you do, and you know it.

"you feel me in you? feel me, fucking feel me baby,"

driven by curiosity, you focus your eyes at the man on top of you, swearing there was nothing more handsome than somebody like wriothesley, a highly respected duke, whispering those sweet and filthy profanities into your mouth while his cock thickens within your soft walls, "does that feel good, yeah? i can see it on your face"

"yesyesyes… it does," you whine and squeeze at his words, his cock dragging and pressing and dragging so strongly along your wet walls before he's stuttering in midst a long, languid thrust, his head thrown back and facing up the ceiling— not long after, loading you up of his creamy cum.

— ꒰ CHILDE ꒱

"come on, show me how good i make you feel," childe messily flicks his cock-head over the reactive hood of your clit, poking and tapping at your softness as you moan out his name— making him laugh at you sweetly, although breathless, his chest rising, pupils dilated wide with hunger, gaze luxuriant upon your naked body.

childe knows how to handle you— until your thighs were shaking and hole spread wide as you're soaking him, ruining him and turn the harbingers usual confidence-loaded expression into a shade of something else— something almost frightening.

"you want it? you want my cock, hm?" he fists himself in front of you, pushing in deep through the small tunnel in his palm as you whine out for him in desperation, "yes baby, please, i want to feel you,"

ajax laughs, humming in approval at the choice of words in your answer, "i know you do, baby, there you go then," as he towers proudly against your skin, his handsome face all twisted and menacing on top of you as he inserts the head slowly.

"feel my tip, right there," he continues and groans when your hole flawlessly forms around him, rasping harshly inside his throat, "you're so wet, fuck, ’m gonna slide in really easy, aren't i?"

this is good, this is so fucking good— archons, childe believes he must be in heaven right now.

you're just so warm, so soft and wet, how was he supposed to let alone breathe when you're taking him so well?

he grumbles lowly, starting to press his cock into you as he digs his fingers into your hips before testing the waters, rolling his hips a little faster, then alternating between fast and slow to find the best rhythm for the both of you. afresh— he pulls a long, shaky moan from past your swollen lips when he finds your sore spots, your skin pressing and slapping together in a delirious tempo and pitches of rapture.

"let me take care of you, i got this," you clutch on to him tenderly and nod your head, your spit filthily pooling at your throat as childe tenderly kisses your temple, "don't hurt your sweet, little head over this, leave it to me, yeah? fuck baby, okay...okay, i'm gonna— fuck you're so tight,"

his thrusts turn more impatient and uneven, although the heaviness was still unmatched as your walls were grabbing him, pulling him in deeper, your hips instinctively rutting up into his to feel more and more, just fucking more, "fuck, i'm gonna make you feel so good tonight,"

— ꒰ AYATO ꒱

ayato's cheeks, jaw and eyes were illuminated by the sight of your body pulled underneath his own— and his cock was oozing of clear pre, his hand rubbing over his solid erection until the sticky semen dribbles down the crook of your thigh.

in any remembered previous night, ayato had always been very much into foreplay, well, only if his frustration levels were on the lower side. in terms of now, he cannot be bothered to focus on his train of thoughts when all the blood was stored in his rock-hard cock thudding heavily and hurting him.

it's so painful— but watching your pussy being empty and not full of his cock was even more distressing.

he slaps his tip over your hole before sheathing himself up with you, his eyebrows lasciviously quirked at you, "all the way in, love, i'm going all the way in," he began to pull his bottom lip between his teeth in concentration, your eyes glazed over as he watches you writhe beneath him the moment he inserts himself.

you gasp audibly, your body tensing and nerves freezing at the solid press on your hole before your back instinctively arches into his defined chest.

"oh you feel too damn good, fuck, you're messing with me, aren't you?" his lips drag over your searing cheeks, drinking up your budding tears and the drool slipping from past your lips, lapping it all up with one single lick of tongue.

"you feel me there? right there," you felt his warm hand press against your stomach, an intoxicating combination of bliss and sensitivity rushing through your system as his body was near close to crushing you with his weight.

ayato was fucking ruthless, frustrated and as if it's his last time of being inside of you— no shame, no pauses, only pushing into you weightily, his balls smacking against your ass as you're feeling so satisfied when your pussy quivers around him, holding him close.

"open your legs a lil more for me, c'mon, i know you can do it" he groans and fucks into you with one sharp push and shove, "i wanna fit it all inside," before stretching and driving you towards insanity.

his tone was as focused as his expression and his stance, "you've always done it so good for me," as you squeeze the moment he says it out loud— the moment he reminds you of all the countless of times where he's left you utterly spent and full of his cum, your hole throbbing and letting it ooze out before he fucks it right back into you, turning you breathless.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[dollniu]

late nite spicy headcanons with niu ! 🌃💋— JJK men

synopsis — part 2 of late nite spicy jjk headcanons with niu !

characters — sukuna, gojo, choso, nanami, toji, ino, higuruma

content — blood play, praise kink, bondage, overstimulation, clothes swap, angry sex, consensual recording, nipple play, oral sex, shower sex, overstimulation, cyber sex, mutual masturbation, office sex, after care, first time, nudes, double penetration, neck kisses, lingerie, spanking, and cuddle sex

info — y’all showed so much love on my first ‘late nite spicy headcanons’ so i thought i’d do another one!

other — MDNI 🔞, if you have any prompt requests or suggestions, feel free to reblog or comment!

SUKUNA — “so pathetic for me, do you need a punishment?”

sukuna lovesss blood, especially the taste of yours. even when you’re on your period, he doesn’t care and will eat you out and even fuck you however he wants. he just loves the taste

his favorite foreplay is sucking on your tits or chest, just playing with your nipple while he sucking, biting, and licking the living shit out of the other 🤭

there’s nothing our king of curses loves more than lingerie, specifically the red lacey ones that put your tits and ass on full display 🤭 he imagines himself ripping them off your body and fucking you right then and there

our two dicked king will double penetrate you regardless of what position y’all are in, fucking you in both wholes makes the experience 10x more pleasurable especially at the fast speed sukuna goes at.. practically breaking you apart

he calls you names like “doll”, “slut”, “pathetic thing”, anything that dehumanizes you and turns u into a play thing for him to toy with

GOJO — “you like it when i’m fucking you like this, princess?”

gojo has plenty of kinks, one of his favorites being handcuffs! specifically on himself, the black fluffy ones are his fav 😚 putting his hands behind his back, on his knees, the intimacy of not knowing what you’ll do to him next is enough to make him cum! touching him, riding him, fucking him, it’s all too much for our sensitive satoru ♥️

occasionally, while he’s teaching or out on a mission, you’ll send him a casual lewd photo which usually leads to him finishing up whatever he’s doing rather quickly… to teleport home and fuck the shit out of you

his favorite place to have sex is in the shower, just showering together is enough for him but being able to push you up against the marble wall while fucking you, the hot steam making it hard to breath, it feels god so good

gojo will call you princess/prince, but in and out of the bedroom!

a single neck kiss can send gojo into a complete horny frenzy, peppering his neck in slow and steady hickeys and kisses drives him absolutely insane, it’s his most sensitive part after all

CHOSO — “please keep using me, just like that..”

there’s nothing choso likes more than pathetic overstimulation, feeling everything at once— fucking you, getting his dick sucked just right, riding him, he can’t help but let out sweet loud moans and whimpers 🤭

choso also lovesss it when your loud, specifically screaming his name. while he’s fucking you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again, your moans just make him fuck you harder !

he has a huge praise kink, loves being called a good boy and will absolutely beg for you to touch him, “i’ll be good, please just touch me- please!”

mutual masturbation is so intimate yet romantic in a way, choso loves fingering you and playing with your clit, hearing how good you sound when he’s pleasuring you. along with getting his dick stroked? he’ll melt 😫

his fav position is cuddle sex for sure, slowly grinding against you just before bed turns into an endless night of cumming from behind you!

NANAMI — “you’re so beautiful beneath me, my love.”

nanami loves making you feel good especially through praise. making you feel special, stroking your hair and guiding you through everything, saying how good your doing, etc etc. he can’t get enough of it

nothing turns him on like when he sees you wearing nothing but his dress shirt that practically looks like a dress on you! it won’t be long till he drags you to the bed and fucks you with it on 😵‍💫

feeling your hands on his chest while you’re riding him is probably one of the best feelings in the world, feeling you scratch at his skin out of pleasure is something he didn’t know he liked till you started doing it

he’ll fuck you on his office desk, just saying. whenever you stop by at work in an outfit that’s a little too revealing he’ll practically drag you to his office and strip you down, pushing you onto his desk and fucking you good.

nanami is hugeee on after-care, like this man will clean you up, cuddle you, bring you water and food, everything to make you feel loved and cared for

TOJI — “i’ll cum in you over and over till i’m tired of it.”

toji is ROUGH, like really rough. he will bite you, shove his tongue down your throat, choke you, all while pounding into you and repeatedly cumming inside of you! (similarly to sukuna!)

he’s prone to fucking you while he’s mad, basically fucking his anger into you which makes him an uncontrollable horny bastard that’ll fuck you till he’s finished 😫

this man lovesss your ass, especially spanking it while fucking you from the back!

he uses his tongue fairly often during sex, which is probably why he likes oral so much. eating you out, making you cum over and over again.. along with licking your sensitive skin while he’s fucking you, he loves the taste of you

toji likes recording him fucking you, in every position, eating you out, fucking you from the back, and especially from the front cause he gets to see you become a complete mess. he keeps them saved on his face just in case you send him a teasing text which you’ll probably regret later

INO — “dont touch me there i’ll- fuck.. cum!”

before you and ino met, he always avoided anything intimate besides casual make out seshs. so his first time with you was absolutely fucking life changing. he was arching his back at the smallest touches, putting in just the tip made him almost cum immediately, he’s extremely sensitive!

ino becomes a blabbering mess during sex, like he genuinely can’t stop talking and mutters quiet “you feel s’fucking good’s”and “god, please don’t stop’s”.

during sex, he can’t help but crack small jokes that make the whole experience 10x funnier, whole time he’s fucking you, y’all are just giggling with moans in between them 🤭

he LOVES EATING PUSSY!! end of story.

ino’s a sucker for titty pics and def jerks off to pics of yours whenever he misses you a little too much.. he’s a little perv that can’t control his desires for you!

HIGURUMA — “dear, if you keep looking at me like that i won’t be able to control myself.”

he’ll let you ride that big nose and we all know it! i’ll make this known till i die, higuruma’s favorite sex position is when your sitting right on his face, grinding your clit against his nose as he explores your cunt with his tongue

he can’t control himself when you beg for him, looking up at him with pleading eyes that are wet with tears, drives him absolutely crazy

higuruma is usually away at work for long periods of time, sometimes making it home only for you to be already asleep :( so whenever he’s out for the night and staying at a hotel, a quick facetime call of pleasuring yourself all night long does just the job

he has a thing for you being on your knees for him, especially eye contact. he likes squeezing your checks and holding up your face to look at his regardless of how embarrassing it is for you because seeing how much of a mess you are is just what higuruma needs for him to cum in you!

you’ve had bath tub sex with him far too many times, with and without a suit on. the warm water while your bouncing on his dick is just what our overworked lawyer needs after a long day at work 😵‍💫

[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Violence, Kidnapping, Alastor eating bitches

Description: Alastor's X Wife!Reader who gets kidnapped and how he deals with that

Alastor's relationship with you is a strong one, the two of of you drawn to each other in an almost supernatural way

But you also trust each other's strengths and aren't prone to stepping in each other's fights

Regardless of how powerful you are

I got your pinkie fingers bby go kick his ass

Holds your shopping bags for you while you go kick ass

Unless of course you ask him to

He likes it when you fix his hair afterwards, preening like a giant rooster as you do

THE POINT IS-

It's not like Alastor spends all his time glued to your hip or sending you out with bodyguards

You can take a damn walk by yourself

You do have a target on back though, if not because of your own strength/actions, then because of your husband

So it's not unusual when someone tries to pick a fight with you

But when you're suddenly ambushed and kidnapped, against the fact that you fought hard to avoid it

Fucking holy weapons

That's new

Well I suppose you'll just have to wait for your husband to come and get you out of this mess

*spits out blood*

Not you bragging about how fucked your kidnappers are once Alastor gets there

He's already going to be mad that they kidnapped his wife, but the fact that they've now put hands on you??? Made you bleed???

Oh they're so fucked

So just sit back and look pretty while you wait for your boo to come and rescue you

And you do look pretty

Keep your damn hands off

Alastor knows something is up when you don't come home, knows that someone must've gotten to you

If the old geezer watched tv maybe he would've known a little sooner

Maybe he would've known that your little fight made the news

Tf was he gonna do?? Wait for it to show up in the papers??

BREAKING NEWS!! RADIO DEMON'S BABE WIFE GETS KIDNAPPED AFTER EPIC BATTLE!

But when Angel shows him that you've been kidnapped Alastor literally just-

Makes this face:

Oh he's getting his wife back

RIP Angel's phone 😭

He's visibly very calm about the whole thing though, which makes the others even more worried

"Well then! I suppose I'll have to get Y/N back myself, won't I? You all wait here, I won't be long now~"

Alastor does give them a chance to give you back before he comes and hunts them down

It's one of the most terrifying radio broadcasts people have listened to but this is his WIFE we're talking about

On the inside he is VERY ANGRY

Even if they do bring you back he still eats them

Fuck them he never promised them anything

They took and HURT HIS WIFE

If they don't bring you back then they're going to be subjected to slaughter like they've never known before being eaten

Not him using his massive demonic form to rip apart their safe house

Anyone who doesn't know Alastor like you do will think he's being surprisingly playful about it all

But as his wifers you know he's raging by the look in his eyes 👀 not merely playing with his food

Not wifey just sitting back and admiring Alastor while he works 💅✨️

Damn this is really doing it for me

Admires how elegantly you stretch and rub your wrists after your bindings are undone, so graceful even after taking a beating

"Thank you, Alastor~ Right on time as always~"

He begs to differ

"Anything for you, my dear."

Won't really look at you until you grab his chin and force him to, Alastor giving you a guilty smile

Le kiss

Leans in to touch foreheads with you, the two of relaxing in each other's arms amongst the carnage

Casually licks the blood off your face to ruin the moment before taking your arm

"Now let's get you home, my darling~"

Doesn't leave you alone for the rest of the night, trying to hide the fact that he's fretting over you

You want to take a bath and get cleaned up? He'll help you!

You want to lay down and rest after a stressful day? He's actually pretty tired too so you two should go to bed together

Will 100% broadcast their screaming souls as a warning to anyone else who wants to try that little stunt again

Falls asleep to it actually, one arm wrapped around you as he drifts off so that when he wakes up, he'll know you're right there with him

He doesn't think any less of you, he's been beat before too

Don't remind him

Will absolutely call himself your hero for like a week straight and land himself in the doghouse by the end of it

[thegnomelord]

Ok, so I loved your dragon reader/ dragon price fic. The detailed courting rituals got me thinking about how different members of TF 141 react to a s/o who has different courting rituals than them.

The one rolling around in my mind rn is Gaz (which I'm pretty sure is a harpy or bird hybrid of some kind) with a dragon reader.

So Gaz tries to court reader through a more fancy version of pebbling. But, instead of giving cool rocks and sticks, it's gemstones and weapons. Yknow, expensive/fancy things that Gaz thinks the reader might want to add to his hoard.

Btw do you have an anon list? If so, is 👑 anon available?

I don't have an anon list yet but you're welcome to be 👑anon!

It's cool to think how they'd try to court you. I hc that werewolves, and Johnny by extension, are really straightforward. Like sitting way too close, hands roaming over your body, trying to lick into your mouth and going "Hey wanna make more of us?"

Ghost, the poor thing, is completely fucked bc he was human before becoming a wraith, how the Hell is he supposed to know? Que him going through Wikipedia articles and watching documentaries of your species courting and mating (having to rub one out imaging you and him in that position ofc) and just stumbling through the whole courting thing.

CW:NSFW

But Gaz? Oooh Gaz—

Safe to say he's fallen ass over tits for you.

It's the way you take care of them, of him, of the monstrous strength used to defend them turning velvet soft when Gaz needs emotional support that has his harpy hindmind demanding to lock you down before a competitor snatches you away.

Only problem — you're not a harpy. And Gaz has no idea how courtship works, as when he asks Price about it (under the guise of just being curious) the old fart just gives him an amused look and tells him to figure it out.

Though harpies and dragons are two different species, he figures there must be some similarities, so he figures to listen to the old fairy tales about your kind and looks for the shiniest thing he can find, because Harpies court by giving gifts and dragons like to hoard and both of them like shiny stuff right?

You're confused like Hell when one day you wake up to find a silver ring with a shiny amethyst sitting on your windowsill. You know for a fact it's not yours as the instinct to catalogue every item in your hoard is as old as the draconic blood running through your veins and you'd remember if you had it.

When you make sure it's not stolen and no owner can be found, (because who'd wear that type of ring in a military base?) you decide to keep it, failing to notice how the way Gaz's pupils get bigger when you put the ring in your pocket.

It is a nice ring, the shine of the gemstone tickling your brain in a pleasant way. The military doesn't allow dragons to have large hoards, most of the items you've gathered over the decades and centuries safely hidden in vaults, but it feels good to have a small hoard in your den.

You expect this to be a one off event. But. No. Every few weeks you find a new thing on your windowsill, from gems to guns to additions to weapons you've expressed you'd like to get. Each new thing leaves you scratching your head, annoyance growing bit by bit as there's never enough scent on the items to track the culprit down and it's not like you can turn the base upside down looking for them (again).

You're unsure how to feel; it's obvious someone is trying to court you, but it definitely can't be Price because no dragon would go about it like this. But you have to admit it's nice to be desired, regardless how odd the method may be.

Then you notice how Gaz has started acting. . . different. He'll ruffle his feathers and flutter his wings more than usual when you two are alone, purposely stretch more often to make your eyes naturally draw to him, sticking to your side as he talks about everything and anything under the sun.

You're also not a fool. You can figure out it's a harpy's way of trying to show off, but without any open hostility you can only assume he's trying to court you. And you let him, you like his presence and the sound of his voice, the way he gives you a lopsided smile and the way his dark feathers shine like onyx gems when the light hits them juuust right and the way he flushes and stutters when your tail wraps around his leg.

Then one late evening when you're doing paperwork you catch sight of something behind your window in the corner of your eye. Like a flash you're opening the window, your clawed hand gripping Gaz's hand before he can scatter.

Gaz's wings spread out wide, a surprised squawk leaving him as he looks into your slitted eyes. "Uh-, I, eh- Hi?" He says, gulping, his newest gift, a very shiny ruby, held in his hand. But what draws your eye are his dark feathers.

You let out an amused snort, "Hello." You purr, leaning in so your faces are close, enjoying the way he flushes from the proximity. "So you're the little thief that's been visiting me."

Gaz's feather puff up to make his silhouette twice as big, his eyes narrowing, a hurt and angry look spreading across his features. "I'm no thief!" He says, insulted that you'd suggest he can't get you gifts on his own. "I-"

"You are," You hum, reaching out your other hand to hold his jaw, and even with his anger he feels his mind croon at how softly you touch him. "You're in the process of stealing my heart."

"Oh." Is the most intelligent thing he can come up with, his pupils blowing wide like he'd just seen the shiniest thing in his life. "Oh."

"Yes," You shrug and pull your hand back to yank one of your scales out of your shoulder, giving it to him as you take the ruby. "Keep this safe for me, yeah?" You hum and then you let him go, going back to your work while he's left dumbstruck, clutching the scale close to his chest.

When it finally settles in his head that you'd just given him a gift, that you'd reciprocated, and given him a shiny gift, oh he's treating that scale like it's the most precious thing in his world. He keeps it close to him, cooing to it in the privacy of his room, keeping it on his pillow so he can fall asleep with your scent in his nose.

He also doubles down on the gifts, but now he's very open about it, to the point you'll have him randomly come into your office to give you something shiny or another weapon, preening so prettily when you praise the thing he's brought back, nuzzling into your neck and fluffing up his feathers. His heart swoons when you show him the small hoard you've made with all the things he's brought you, and you end up spending the entire evening with him cuddled up to you, chirping happily.

"Hey, can I see that scale I gave you?" You ask after a couple of weeks, curious to see how he's treated it.

"Uh, sure." Gaz can swear his heart's beating like a war drum as he watches you inspect your scale, checking for scratches or cracks.

But you find none, it's still as shiny as the day you'd given it to him. Maybe even shinier.

You smile and before he can do anything you pull him close to you by a hand on his hip. "Very well done, little thief." You hum, kissing him. Gaz melts against you, not even your lips able to muffle the happy chirps and croons that escape his chest.

You spend the next few months getting familiar with each other's bodies, lazy evenings spent with your clawed hands preening his wings, Gaz steadily melting into the bed with every brush of your fingers. Kyle taking a few extra minutes in the morning to rub his face between your wing, chirping and crooning.

Harpy mating season comes around and you're caught off guard when you come to your room to find your covers and pillows and entire wardrobe on the ground, turned into a makeshift nest with a very naked, and very horny, Gaz sitting in the middle of it.

His eyes are hazy but he knows you're there the second your scent hits his nose, the most desperate sound you've ever heard leaving his lips, bruised from how hard he'd been biting them to reign his noises in, to keep them only for you.

"Mate-" Kyle whines, shuffles in the nest that has the pretty gems he'd gifted you strewn amongst the fabric, "-need you, please- I-"

One more needy sound is all it takes to have you tumbling naked into the nest in record time, deep guttural purrs answering his pleased coos. He presses flush against you, seeking out your mouth, whole body burning up and his thighs shaking, his cock rock hard.

"I got you, pretty thief." You rumble, pulling him into your lap, his wings spreading out and feathers puffing up, as if he needs to make himself look even more desirable. "What do you need Kyle?"

"Need you," Kyle whines, pawing at your own erection, desperate fingers shaking as he strokes you, "Please- hurts, I need- mate."

You shush him with sweet kisses, your hand sliding down to very carefully stretch him open while avoiding injuring him with your claws, your mind purring at how willingly he opens up for you, wings and limbs shaking as he whimpers against your lips, his mind steadily leaking from his cock.

"You're alright," You calm him when you pull your fingers out, positioning him so your cock head rests against his entrance, not missing how Kyle preens at your strength. "Going to breed you right, gonna take care of you."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Kyle moans are loud as you steadily push your cock into him, his walls clamping down on every inch of your length. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank- mate." His claws dig into your shoulders, clutching you tight as you bottom out in him, his hole clenching you in sync with his ragged breathing.

"I'm here," You hum, barely able to think, "Just relax, let me take care of you." You say, feeling him relax into you, and with deep purrs and lots of praise you begin to fuck him, moving him like a fleshlight on your cock, letting him moan and groan and scream his heart out uncaring who hears it, your ancient blood singing at the thought of his noises being a testament to your abilities as a mate.

Then the tight heat and the scent and just Kyle has your mind forgetting how to think, your body moving on it's own to show Kyle he'd picked a good mate.

[writingsbychlo]

NONSENSE | theodore nott

summary; you got that holiday glee from your true love.

word count; 7946

notes; there is literally no plot here. the whole thing is supposed to just be fluffy cute nonsense. I hope you enjoy it, regardless. the first fic of the christmas 2023 series, based on this song.

The lights splashed off of every surface, the usual green of a Slytherin house party was spotted with a festive red, flashes of gold from the lights that had been slung around the room. The smell of fresh pine and berries was drowned out entirely by the spice of firewhiskey and the sting of glitter-powder from the Weasley twin’s mini-firework poppers hanging in the air. 

The classic setting of the annual Slytherin Christmas party. 

Brushing around your upper thighs was the fluff of your dress, a pleasant warmth racing through your veins as your drink settled into your blood. Your body moved, swaying amongst those on the dance floor as your hands settled on delicate hips, Pansy’s own hands on your waist, you both moving together, her head tossed back. The lyrics to the song were shouted from her mouth into the crowd, not a care in the world as she soaked up the atmosphere.

You giggled, her head snapping back up, and a mischievous smile played on her lips as she pulled you even closer. “What, you don’t like my singing?”

“I love your singing, Pans. It’s truly wonderful.” 

She only scoffed. You’d listened to enough shower concerts and drunken raves as her roommate over the years to know singing was one of the very few talents that Pansy Parkinson did not possess. The smell of her perfume flooded your nostrils, and she spun, dropping to the floor in a dramatic show that earned her a few cheers, including one of your own. 

Jingle bells rang out from somewhere in the crowd, muffled in the noise, Pansy made sure to twerk in time to them, her arse grinding against you as you swayed. When she rose again, her sights were locked on Luna’s across the room, the blushing Ravenclaw was doing her best not to stare, and making a poor job of it at that. 

“Oh, go put the poor girl out of her misery would you, Pansy? It’s obvious she’s into you, stop torturing her!” 

She faked a gasp, spinning to face you, and raising a perfectly manicured brow. “Now, is that any way to go about a game of cat and mouse? No wonder you lost yours so quickly.”

“I didn’t lose! I got my man, thank you very much!”

“Yes, you did.” Frozen hands clutched your waist, pushing Pansy’s hands away, their chill seeping through the material of your dress as the tip of a cold nose brushed along your exposed shoulder. “Hello, amore.”

With a dramatic sigh and a glare at Theo, she sauntered away, onto her next game despite muttering about him ‘ruining the fun’. 

The crowd swallowed her up again, leaving you alone. Leaning back into him, the cold of his clothes made you shudder, even when his arms wrapped around your waist and his lips left open-mouthed kissing along your exposed skin. 

“You’re cold, Teddy. Where have you been?”

“Out, getting some more booze. Can’t host the best party of all the houses if you’re not a good host, hm?” Finally, you spun in his arms, catching his cold lips in a kiss, and he hummed happily against your mouth as he returned the affections with vigour. His tongue licked across your lower lip, tracing the faint taste of his favourite alcohol there. “That’s the kind of kiss I get when I go out on a beer run?” 

“You’ve been out in the snow, I was just trying to warm you up.” You smirked, his eyes flashing cheekily at the insinuation, his hands slipping a little further around your body to your back, tugging you flush against him.

“Well, I’m still pretty cold. Maybe you should warm the rest of me up, huh?” His body began to shift, moving together with your own as you danced slowly, hips rocking together slowly. He positioned one thigh between your legs, a large hand splaying across your lower back to guide you in the movements. “You know, you look pretty cute in this little get-up you have going on here, Mrs Claus. But,”

You rose a brow, his eyes scanning over the red, strapless dress and trimmed white fur, the thigh-high socks you knew would drive him wild. All donned for the occasion, a cheesy dress for the Christmas pastry before you all went home for the winter break. Leaning in, his lips brush the shell of your ear, voice dropping;

“Penso che le tue calze starebbero meglio sul pavimento della mia camera da letto.”

“Are you teasing me, Teddy? I only understood about half of that.” You murmured, his teeth nibbling lightly on the shell until you gasped, before he pulled back, leaving another kiss on your jaw as he did. 

“I’ll make sure you understand me just fine by the end of the night, don’t you worry.”

Your cheeks flushed, and he noticed, the red only enhanced by the green lights in the room, your bodies moving together as the bass pumped across the stone and marble floors. His once chilled touch now seared into you like flames from a fire. Your foreheads pressed together, breaths shared as the moment was lost on you both, drunk on the feel of his hands on your skin and the smell of him in your nose. 

“Quite the little show you were putting on with Pansy back there.”

“Jealous?” You mused, and his eyes closed, a smile pulling at his lips as he shook his head a little. 

“Not at all, cara mia. Turned on, but not jealous.” He angled his head down a little more, mouth close enough to your own to taste the sugary mint on his every breath, making you want to suck the candy cane flavour from his tongue like a drug. Theo had a unique way of emptying your head of thoughts, of all rationale, of making you feel safe and loved at the same time as putting snowflakes in your stomach, all with a simple touch or look. 

“Good. You’re the only one I want under my mistletoe, Theo.” His hand dipped lower as you kissed the side of his mouth, squeezed your arse as you nipped at his jaw, traced the edge of those thigh-high socks when you rose to your tiptoes to suck on his neck softly. 

“Maybe we should go find some then, sì?” He sounded as breathless as he made you feel, nonsense flirting pouring from both of your mouths as the party roared on around you both like a din in your ears. He was your anchor, drowning everything else out as you retreated to look at him, smoothing a thumb over the mark on his neck that he’d no doubt wear proudly until it faded.

Taking his hand in your own, you lifted your clasped fingers to your lips, kissing across each of his scarred knuckles as you guided him away from the dance floor. His gaze stayed fixed on your motions, lips parting for a short puff of breath before those dark eyes flickered back up to your own. With a cheeky grin, you spun your back to him just as he moved to close the distance, a groan from him vibrating against your back as he all but plastered himself to you once again, his steps matching your own as the two of you shuffled through the room. 

“You drive me crazy, do you know that? Those eyes, that smile… this body in a dress like that.” Your only response was to add a little more of a sway to your hips as you made your way towards the drinks table, taking the long route around and letting him wait. “You’re bad, teasing me like this in front of all these people… naughty girl.”

“Oh, am I?” As you came to a stop, he murmured his response, a kiss to the back of your head and a covert smack to your arse as he leaned over you, swiping for two fresh plastic cups and searching the littered table top for a bottle with something left in. “Does that mean I’m getting coal for Christmas?”

“You’ll be getting something hard, alright.” He whispered, hips bucking into your backside, letting you feel the slight bulge beginning to grow there, and you melted back into him at his touch. His hand slides up from your waist, slides up to your throat, to cup your neck. “Perhaps a new necklace?” He murmurs, squeezing lightly. “Diamonds?”

“You two disgust me, actually.” Mattheo coughed, making you both jump a little as the bubble pops, and Mattheo shakes his head, gagging falsely. He leant across the drinks table, beginning to shake bottles, glass clinking as he drops them when they turn up useless. “Absolute animals, where has all my good whiskey gone?”

“Hello to you too, Matty.” Theo’s hand slid back down to a safer place, resting on your hip as he came to your side instead, letting you tuck under his arm and bury into his warmth and cologne. 

“Hello, lovebirds. Do we have anything to drink?”

“That’s what I have been trying to find out.” Theo mutters, and you shrug. 

“There’s always the mulled wine.”

“Wine is not supposed to be hot, dolcezza.” Your boyfriend’s face screws up, just like it does every time you say something that offends his national pride, and a bubble of laughter erupts from you, only making his expression deepen. He’d looked the same way when you’d mispronounced a dish on the menu of the restaurants he’d taken you to on your first real date, or when you’d brought up the trending ‘lasagne soup’ you’d seen online.

“At this point, I’ll drink anything as long as it gets me fucked up.” Your friend sighs, drawing chuckles from you both as you shuffle from Theo’s arms, and make your way towards the cauldron simmering in the less-crowded back of the room. They follow you slowly, the two boys chatting as you step away from the noise and bustle of the main party, and into the smokey, crowded adjoining den of the common room. Enzo is practically filling a couch of his own as he man-spreads across it, a blunt hanging from two of his fingers as he stares at the game of chess he and Tom have going, only making a move after three more drags from his cig. 

Blaise and Draco sit by the fire, each with a glass of mulled wine and in a heated debate about something you can’t keep up with. Draco’s new car or Blaise’s new favourite holiday destination, perhaps. Maybe, even a way to combine the two. Taking three glasses from the cabinet and crouching before the hearth, several greetings float your way as you pluck up the enchanted ladle that has kept the brew stirring, the smell of orange and cinnamon reaching your nose from within the pot. 

“Not sure why you got three glasses out, darling. I’m not drinking that.” Theo’s nose scrunches adorably as you pout up at him, pouring one steaming serving for Mattheo, first. 

“Oh, please, Teddy. Try it for me?”

“No.”

Your scoff is all you can muster, filling another glass as Mattheo takes his and leaving one empty, returning the spell-bound stirrer to its task. Standing to your height once again, you clutch your drink between your hands, lowing steam from it. “You really hate mulled wine that much?”

“It’s nonsense. Wine isn’t meant to be hot.”

“It’s delicious this way!”

“Most wine is supposed to be cooled, actually.” He continued his argument, one you’d had for all the years of your friendship before ever getting together, and you sip it with amusement as he raves on about taking you for the perfect glass of wine someday.

“Better not kiss me again, then.” You interrupt, and his head snaps to you, several chuckles from the boys who have gathered.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, if you hate mulled wine so much, I mean, because that’s all I’ll be drinking for the rest of the night.” You take another gulp, ignoring the heat of it, just to make your point, and licking stray droplets of the red from your lips, watching him track the movement.

“Don’t be ridiculous, dolcezza. You know that I think wine always tastes its best when I suck it from your tongue.” 

You don’t have a chance to speak again, not before his mouth is crashing down against your own and making you squeak in shock, the cup in your hands jostled enough to send some of the hot liquid spilling across your fingers. When you gasp at the sensation, his tongue plunges into your mouth, licking his way in like he’s memorising you all over again, and making your legs shake at the urgency. He has so many ways of kissing, Theo does. The lazy kisses, the high kisses, the good morning and good night and ‘I need you right now’ kisses. 

This was different. This was ‘I love you’ and ‘shut up’ and passion all rolled into one, his fingertips digging into your body as he clung to you, pulling you so close that the spilt wine was no doubt soaking into his jumper and staining the green cotton. Pressing into him, you tried to return it, free hand slipping up into his hair, tangling in the soft strands as his mouth enveloped your own. 

You almost dropped the glass in your hand, tingles shooting across every nerve you had just at the feeling of being near him. Falling for Theodore Nott had been one of the most intoxicating and reckless things you’d ever done. Everything had been just fine for years of friendship, years of laughter and jokes and hugs that never meant a thing, and then one day, the way you looked at him changed and your life had been flipped upside down. 

If you could go back and change things, you would. You’d make sure to go back and let it happen sooner.

“So?” Your breaths come out in shallow pants as he pulls away to leave delicate kisses across your cheeks, prolonging the moment. “What’s the verdict?”

“On what?” He whispered stupidly, voice devoid of any understanding at all, deep and raspy as he nuzzled his way into your hair. 

“I think we got mulled wine on your jumper.” Your own thoughts were just as hazy, just as blurred, and he backed away just enough to look down at the droplets, the liquid still staining your fingers.

Taking the glass from your hand, he placed it down on the mantlepiece beside the empty one, and brought your fingers to his lips. His eyes never left your own as he kissed and licked the wine away gently, sucking your skin clean and humming as he did, your lips parting but no words making their way out as Theo cleaned you up. 

“Oh…”

“I suppose it doesn’t taste that bad…” Your head shook at his joke, his fingers weaving through your own when he was done. With a snap of his fingers, the enchanted ladle was topping your glass up, and filling his own. “Come on, cara mia, let’s sit down.”

Theo led you to the couch, sinking into the plush leather cushions and pulling you down to join him. Conversation was flowing like rich honey around you both as you settled, leaning into Theo’s side, his hand tucked against your hip, rubbing softly. 

You sipped at your wine, letting the feeling take over, letting yourself drown in the blurry atmosphere of being with your closest friends and the love of your life. Enzo was telling a story between smokes, a story of the Weasley twins’ latest pranks that he’d managed to be witness to, and laughter filled the room just as much as words did, as he recounted the tale. 

Theo raised his glass to his lips again, your attention moving to him instead, his throat bobbing with every swig he took, and when he pulled the glass away, you wiped a stray droplet from his mouth, sucking it from your finger. He pinched your hip in response. 

“What happened to not liking mulled wine?” You teased as he clicked for the enchanted ladle, refilling both of your glasses, and his lips pressed together. 

“I still hate it, but I’ll do anything to make you happy.” Is what he settled on, despite taking an impatient sip while it was too hot and scrunching his face up as his tongue burned. It may be an insult to his ‘perfect wine tastes’, but you knew that deep down, he loved it. 

His hand moved to your thigh, rubbing up and down slowly. You hid your smirk in your drink, watching him grow more and more needy. It wasn’t long before he was lifting your legs up, twisting you to rest them across his lap. Taking pity on him and laying your arm over his shoulder, your hand moved to his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. 

It didn’t satisfy him for long, because only a few minutes into Blaise’s new debate with the boys, he was rubbing your thigh again. You offered a kiss, and another, but when his touches didn’t cease, you took his hand and moved it higher up. Tucking it against your upper thigh, you crossed your legs, trapping it steady between them and leaving a lingering kiss on the edge of his mouth. 

He squeezed your thigh, grateful for the increase in affection, and slumped a little more into the cushions, taking you with him. 

You drained your glass, adding your input to the story, and throwing in commentary as you went, between kisses shared with Theo, to keep him happy. 

That satisfaction didn’t last long, however, when his hand began sliding its way up your thigh further still, inch by inch, and his lips were tracing your neck as he once again lost track of the conversation. 

One drink down, two, halfway through a third glass each was when the lines became blurry enough that you didn’t mind your friends around so much anymore, but you did mind not having Theo’s tongue in your mouth. Clearly, he was just as affected, because as soon as your head twisted and your mouth closed over his, he was groaning happily, a grumble of ‘finally’, and leaning up to return the kiss with just as much vigour. 

Your fingers were tangled in his hair, a slow kiss that was just enough to drive you wild, your crossed legs clenching each time he sucked, each little sound he made, each gasping breath before he was back. His hand, sandwiched between your crossed thighs, was squeezing occasionally, fingers tracing tantalising touches onto your skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

“Teddy…” You whispered, pulling back as your swollen lips stung from biting kisses, trailing your mouth over his jaw, peppering him with kisses as he bit back a moan at the feeling. You knew how much he loved it, how much he loved the way you’d lick at the hinge of his jaw, or the stretch as he tipped his head to the side to let you get at his neck. 

Theodore Nott was a man who loved PDA and touches, no doubt about it, and he made you feel loved up enough with a single smile to grant him more than his fair share of affection. 

“I missed you today.”

“You woke up in my arms this morning, dolcezza. We spent half the day together.” He whispered, and you pulled back with a frown, his head lazily tipping back to you and eyes refocusing as you deprived him of attention. “What?”

“Nothin’. I just…” Stroking a finger over his cheek, his head tipped into the touch, and he blinked up at you questioningly, waiting. “You didn’t miss me even a little bit?”

“No,” He murmured, your brows furrowing once again at the definitiveness of it. “Because you’re all I ever think about. I spent every minute getting ready to come back to you, and if that didn’t work, I started looking at your latest pictures. I can’t miss you when I know we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together.”

The fracture in your chest healed up in a second, bursting with heat and love and adoration instead as you pressed your forehead to his own. “Really?”

“Of course, amore. Do you truly not know what you do to me? The effect you have on me?”

“About the same you do to me, I suspect.” Your words were whispered against his puckered lips, and you gave in, another series of tender kisses until he was smiling too wide to continue. 

“And what is it that I do to you? Tell me. I want to hear it all.”

“Oh, please don’t,” Draco whined, your head lifting to find him grimacing at you both as Blaise hid his laughter behind his hand. “I don’t think there’ll be any room left in here if Nott’s ego gets any bigger. If I have to listen to any more ‘I love you more’ ‘no, I love you more’ from you both, I’m going to be sick in the fireplace.”

“Don’t be bitter, Dray,” You teased, twisting to sit properly across Theo’s lap once again, your arm around his shoulders and your fingers in his hair, scratching at the base of his neck so that his eyes fluttered. “Just because you’re single at Christmas doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be miserable.”

“I’m not miserable, thank you very much. I’m free. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be shackled at the best time of the year.” Your laughter was hidden by Tom’s,  Mattheo’s and Blaise’s, and this only seemed to ignite the blond man more. “All Theodore does is whine and complain about whether he’s bought you enough Christmas presents, and if he picked a romantic enough card. Too stressful, I won’t do it.” 

“Y’know, ‘won’t’ is not the same as ‘can’t’.” Your tutting turned his cheeks red as the other boys all fell over the edge into hysterics. 

“She’s got you there, cousin.” Enzo teased, eyes red-rimmed and face a state of permanent relaxation from how much he’d smoked, but even he was sentient enough to tease Draco.

“I hate you all. I hope all your Christmas presents suck.” He scoffed, sticking his tongue out at you as he walked away, and you pinched Theo’s chin, smacking a dramatic kiss on his cheek;

“I have all I want right here, Draco! But I’m the one that does the sucking, not that you’d know anything about that.”

He flipped you off, Theo’s hand tightening on your leg at the insinuation as Draco left to no doubt go and find one of his usual roster girls to nurse his ego back up to standards. “I’m holding you to that later, mi amore.”

“I should hope so, Teddy.” Uncrossing your legs from your seat across him and placing one wobbly foot on the floor, his hand slipped up from your thigh to you arse, stabilising you with a squeeze as he smirked to himself, watching you adjust the hem of your dress and turn to him. Taking his hand from your butt and weaving your fingers together, you tugged expectantly as he finished off his third glass of mulled wine, and then yours, too. “Dance with me?”

“If I ever say no to that question, I want you to avada me, okay?”

Staggering to his feet as you laughed, he let you tug him toward the centre of the room. Your arms wrapped around his neck, his own around your waist, and the two of you began to sway out of sync to the music, noses brushing and smiles matching as you revelled in the festive atmosphere. 

“It’s strange,” His words were quiet, and you offered only a questioning hum to his vague statement, stroking the tips of your fingers over the back of his neck soothingly. “Feels like we’ve always been like this. It doesn’t feel as new as it should. It doesn’t feel like we’ve only been together a few months. It feels like we have always been in love, just like this. It’s just… sembra il destino con te.”

You considered his words for a moment, letting them roll around in the blur of your mind. “Fate?” You whispered eventually, and the glow of the smile that broke his face as the few Italian words you’d been picking up on rang clear. 

“Yes, mi amore. Fate. It feels like fate with you.”

“I love you, Theodore Nott.”

“I love you more, (y/n) Nott.” He teased, lips sealing over yours in a promise that one day that name would be true. Your heart skipped a beat, your swaying continuing as you pulled yourself up a little closer, leaning into him for support to continue the kiss. Theo was everything, everything you needed and never knew. “Good thing Draco wasn’t here to hear that.”

“He’ll find this one day.” You stole another kiss, and another as Theo leaned in to meet you halfway, his hand sliding up your arm to clasp with your own. Lifting one hand away from his shoulder, Theo took a real step now, swirling you in a proper dance as he held your joint hands out, and giggles burst free as he began to twirl you around the room. 

Weaving between furniture and friends, Regulus barely had a chance to snatch his legs out of the way from where they rested on the cluttered coffee table before Theo was waltzing you past him, stumbling around the room in a clumsy mess of loving and drunken movements. 

Suddenly, over the top of the music in the room, came the baritone voice of one highly inebriated Blaise Zabini, crooning the lyrics to ‘All I Want For Christmas’. You smiled, joining him with the lyrics, then Mattheo and Theo and Enzo too, as the boys hunted for the tucked-away karaoke microphones that had been hidden in one of the cupboards. 

With no batteries and no purpose, one was thrust into your hand. Just like that, you found yourself dancing the span of the room with all of them, belting the incorrect lyrics to any Christmas song you could think of between laughs and swigs of drinks. 

Mattheo dropped first, out of breath and lay across a whole couch with a bottle of whiskey clutched in his hand, and a blunt in the other. Theo stood beside him, lifting Mattheo’s limp hand up every so often to steal a drag. 

He occasionally added the words, mostly happy to stand with his arm around your waist as you danced against him, aiming all the particularly romantic lyrics his way with a smile. 

“Well, someone has a little too much holiday cheer, huh?” Pansy emerged again, with suspiciously swollen lips and a dazed-looking Luna on her arm. Though, Luna could also just have eaten a few too many of those brownies she brought too, you think…

“What can I say?” You said through panted breaths, the carol still playing in the background as Blaise and Enzo continued to butcher the Christmas classic without you. “My true love gave it to me. How goes your evening, Pans?”

Her eyes widened for a fraction, before narrowing into a glare at your insinuation, and Luna only giggled. “Our evening has been going quite well, has it not, Pansy?”

“‘Course it has, Loons.” She mumbled, tightening her arm around the smaller girl’s waist, and guiding her towards the couches. When Luna couldn't see, she stuck her tongue out at you, and you pouted to hide your laughter, shoulders shaking in a betrayal.

“Your true love, huh?” Theo questioned from behind, making you jump in shock, and you turned around to swat at his chest. 

“Don’t fucking sneak up on me like that, Nott.”

“Uh-huh.” He shook his head at your antics, leaning in to steal a kiss from your lips before you could swerve away. “I’m getting bored of this party now. How about you come and show me a little more of that true love back at my dorm?”

“Lead the way.”

“So you can stare at my arse the whole time?” He chastised, but took your hand in his own, beginning to lead you both back through the crowds, your departure covert before anyone could make you stay. 

“The quidditch training does you well, what can I say?” Leaning forward to pinch him as he walked, he almost stumbled over a step, reaching behind himself to grab at your wrist, tugging you around to his side as he scowled. His cheeks were red, but there was a grin he was trying to hide, shining his eyes, and it broke free after another second. 

“You’re a menace.”

“You do this to me, what can I do? You drive me crazy, Teddy.”

“Don’t say things like that to me unless you want me to bend you over that drinks table right now.” He muttered, the words tumbling from his lips like he was reading off a shopping list, and your heart skipped a beat in your chest as a shock of heat raced down your spine. “I can’t get you back to my dorm any faster than this, but you’re testing my strength.”

He began to push through the crowds with even more force, no longer polite as he wove but simply pushing his way through any gaps or spaces, dragging you behind him until he was ushering you up the stairs. Through the cold halls, the music dulled and faded to nothing but a distant throb of the bass, and even that was sealed out to nothing as he closed his dorm door, locking it with a spell. 

Pressing him back into the wood, Theo was happy to go with your movements, pliant to your every wish as the bliss of the night continued to blanket you both. Your lips met his, a simple kiss he hardly had a chance to return before you were kissing at his cheek, his jaw, down in a trail along his neck, and over his covered chest. 

Sinking to your knees before him, a shot of cold raced across your skin from the cool stones of the floor. He looked down at you, fingers brushing tangling into your hair, and smirking as he held it out of your way. 

Your fingers began tugging at his belt in return, undoing it and slipping the leather out of the loops, he let out a happy sigh. Slumping further against the wood, you tugged at his jeans, mouthing every inch of exposed skin along his hip bones as they slid down, boxers too, his already hard cock bouncing up to smack across your cheek. 

Hot, wet skin throbbed against your face, and you turned, tongue out and dragging along the length of his dick, before swirling around the tip. He hissed through his teeth, eyes dark and half-lidded as he stared down at you, that serious expression that always made you weak in the knees melting away to something else. 

“Oh, you’re going to let Santa come down your chimney, dolcezza?”

Even in a moment like this, with your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, Theo managed to make a joke, your laughter muffled against him as you pulled back, and his own laugh was cut off by a moan at the feeling. His hips bucked, tip prodding at your lips as you grinned up at him, pinching his thigh for his poor excuse of a joke and terrible timing. Surely, you thought, you should be turned off or angry, something other than complete love filing you as he made jokes right now. Instead, it only made you feel more for him, his goofy nature behind closed doors that only you got to see, his sweet and funny and silly side that was hidden from most of the world. It was all part of what made him.

Somehow, his stupid jokes turned you on even more, a twisting in your stomach like snowflakes in a storm, your thighs clenching together. So, you matched his energy. If sexy Christmas puns were what he wanted, you’d certainly win. 

“Will I get a white Christmas this year?”

Licking the underside of him, from balls to tip, he let out a throaty groan, angling your head with the hand in your hair and sinking himself deep enough to make you gag, never taking his eyes away from your lips. “Oh, we’ll paint it white.”

His gaze stayed glued to your mouth, watching as he set a slow pace, controlling the bobbing of you up and down his cock. Only half in, and he was already beginning to fray at the edges, fixated on watching himself disappear in and out of your mouth. Taking him by surprise, you pushed a little further, all the way until you gagged and more, swallowing as much of him as you could until tears were pricking at your eyes. 

Again and again you let him take over, just to snatch it away when he least expected it, driving him over the edge, until he was muttering curses in Italian and throbbing in your mouth. Again, you took him down, deep until you couldn't breathe for the weight of him in your airways, and he fisted at your hair hard enough to burn.

Your throat flexed around him, swallowing and wet as spit gathered at the edges of your mouth, stretched around his considerable girth. Only when your lungs burned for breath did you pull back, gasping and messy as you stared up at him. “Santo fanculo, tesoro. La tua piccola bocca calda sarà la mia morte.”

“Turns me on when you talk dirty to me in Italian, Theo.”

“Is that so?” He muttered, hand cupping your throat, one thumb under your chin to tip your head up, and with a wink, he spat onto your waiting tongue. “Ingoialo, perché qualsiasi altra cosa ti do sta andando in quello stretto poco fica.”

A whimper slipped free, and he tugged you up by the fistful of your hair, uncaring of where your mouth had just been as he smashed his against it, tongue forcing into your mouth and kissing you so hard you could barely stand. Stripping himself the rest of the way, he made quick work of your own clothes, between keeping up with your kisses, and leaving his own collection of marks on your neck, Theo had you both naked and gasping in record time. 

“I love unwrapping my presents,” He whispered into the flesh of your breasts, tugging you down into his lap as he sat, your hips rocking against his wet cock, mixing with your juices as he bumped against your clit with every movement. “Told you those stockings would look better on my floor.”

“God, just kiss me, Theo. Before you make me lose my mind.” Your hands were on his cheeks, tugging his face back up, and he was muttering a spell as your lips met. Using his nose to nudge your attention upwards instead. He took a nipple into his mouth as you leaned back, staring up at the small green plant he had conjured above you both, and giggling through a moan as he scraped his teeth across the bud. “Is that mistletoe?”

“But, of course, mi amore. It was the one thing missing.”

Flicking your gaze over the room, you took in the mess of Christmas decorations the pair of you had put up. You’d taken to decorating his dorm like it was decorating your first house together, celebrating your first Christmas as a couple. 

A small, wonky Christmas tree sat on the dresser, a garland over the window, a wreath on the outside of the door and lights woven onto the headboard of his bed, flashing a myriad of colours on his profile now that only made him more beautiful. 

Smoothing back the hair from his face to see him fully, you pecked his lips, and again, “I love it.”

“Anything to make you happy.” His words were cheesy, but so smoothly spoken in such a deep voice that you shuddered nonetheless, and his eyes sparkled. “What else do you desire, my love? You’re already in my lap, so why don’t you tell me what you want?”

Pausing your rocking, you shuffled back just enough, dragging a nail down his chest and between your bodies, cupping his balls and giving them a squeeze in your palm as his mouth dropped open, and eyes rolled back. “Why, you got a present for me in your sack, huh?”

He was groaning and laughing at the same time, his face buried in your neck as you continued your ministrations, his whole body tight and every muscle locked as you did, until he was shaking, unable to take it any longer. “That’s what you want? It’s all yours. How do you want to take it?”

“Let me go for a ride, be your vixen.”

He bit at the juncture of your neck, before lifting his head, eyes playing out a plan as he looked to you. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about some different uses for these lights… interested?”

“Always.” You breathed, letting him twist you around with ease, until you were on your back amongst the pillows, arms being stretched above your head, and thrill racing through your body like a new high as you felt the wires and lights coil around your wrists. With a test tug, they pinched at your wrists, leaving you strung up to his headboard like nothing more than a decoration yourself, and he whistled at his work as he pulled back to admire you. 

Spreading your legs apart for himself, he settled onto his stomach, and anticipation overtook you in waves. Squirming on the bed before him, Theo chuckled to himself, blowing a stream of cool air onto your clit, making you squeal. “You look better than a whole fuckin’ feast. Look at you…”

He licked a single, firm stripe across your core, lapping up everything that had gathered so far, tongue parting your folds, and prodding at your clit as he did. When your hips bucked up to follow his face, legs crooking and feet planted on the bed, he placed a hand flat across your hips, pinning you down. 

“Be a good girl and have some patience.”

Your whimper spurred him on, back in again and again, until the noises he was dragging from you were closer to cries and sobs. He teased at your entrance, dipping his tongue inside just enough to drive you wild before pulling back and focusing his attention on the needy bud between your legs. Sucking and nipping, he dragged you to the brink, all before pulling back and leaving you hanging, marking your thighs with his bites and bruises. 

Again and again he played, until you were a writhing mess under his hands, tugging at the wires holding you down, desperately rocking against his face as his arms wrapped under your legs. And only then, did he give in. Just like that, every light touch became demanding, every teasing drag became more like a punishment, as Theo took what he really wanted. 

Screams of his name from your lips bouncing off the worlds, your juices a mess on his face as you came, and he wouldn't let up. Pleasure so intense it blinded you, an orgasm tearing through you, your body spasming from the sensations, back arching, and his only response was to slide two fingers into you and abuse your clit as he scissored them.

Sobs became wails, your voice cutting out and catching as you panted for breath you could no longer drag into your lungs, all as he traced filthy words and claims onto your body with his mouth, while pressing to that spongy spot inside of you that made you see stars. 

“Oh, Theo— fuck, baby, I can’t—”

“You will.” He murmured, a third finger slipping in, and your body went taut, hips leaving the bed entirely as you seized, a second orgasm tearing through you and juices gushing as he kept his pace, riding you through the high and over the crest of it. He took everything you had to give him, cheeks shining and eyes locked on your movements, you could feel the burn of his stare into your skin, branding you as his as he almost killed you with his mouth. “Una ragazza cosí brava cazzo per me.”

As soon as he pulled away, your thighs snapped shut, your trembling body collapsing against the mattress as you gasped for breath. “H-Holy shit, Teddy.”

“Good?”

“Shut up.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say to someone who just had you begging for mercy, is it?” He tutted, pushing your knees apart, the cool air in the room sweeping across your still soaked core as you continued to leak, no doubt dripping onto the expensive silk sheets he owned. “Perhaps you no longer deserve my mercy.”

“Let me at least catch my breath,” You muttered, one of his hands coming to land beside your head as he leaned over you, the other pulling your leg up onto his hips. Brushing his lips across your own lovingly, you smiled, puckering them for a kiss,

“No.”

With that, Theo slammed himself into you, your eyes rolling back as your still fluttering walls were forced to accommodate his length, your core twisting so tight you thought you might come again just like that, feeling him slide deeper and deeper, all the way, until your hips were sat snugly together. Your fingers became fists, jerking at the lights and rattling them on the headboard as your instinct to cling to him, to tear his back apart with your scratches took over. 

Instead you were restrained, all you could do was cling to him with your legs, return his eager kisses as best you could, head spinning, utterly overwhelmed with the feeling of being his. He gave you a chance to adjust, at least, his own face screwed tightly. Shallow pants on his lips as he steadied himself not to burst right away, and you made sure he struggled, clenching around him and rolling your hips into him until he had to hold you down. 

“Stop teasing me,”

“I’m not doing anything.” Your denial was useless, his glare said everything, that he knew you were lying, and he would make you pay for it, too.

“Oh, you’re a vixen, alright. Piccola troia.”

“That’s right,” You whisper onto his lips, “But I’m your little slut.” 

Just like every time you understood his first language, his eyes lit up, sparking with fire and adoration as you claimed him like he’d claimed you, lips searing as you kissed him. His hips began to move, in rhythm with your kisses and picking up speed. 

Every thrust of his hips has the breath knocked from your lungs, stretched out and full of him in the most perfect way. Before you’d been together, your sexual experiences had been limited and disappointing, and your first time with Theo made you realise just how good sex could be. It didn’t matter how or when, whether it was bent over a table in the back of the library with his fingers in your mouth to keep quiet, or in the astronomy tower, high and lazy, it was always so good. 

But this,

This was something else. This was mindblowing, your toes curling as he pounded into you, taking you to new heights of pleasure. His skin was slick, as was your own, sliding together perfectly as you shared breaths, foreheads pressed together, no longer even having the strength to kiss, nothing but the movements of your bodies. 

“You’re so fuckin’ good, tesoro. So perfect for me.” His praise covered you like a blanket, only adding to the way you felt, helping build you higher and higher toward the orgasm that would blow the others out of the water. 

“Oh, Teddy…”

“Yeah, you feel good?” One extra sharp thrust, your nails digging into your palms, and you began to roll your body up desperately into his own, searching for a release that would leave you in bliss for hours to come. “I love to make you feel good, you make me feel so good too.”

“So good, Theo. So big,” Your words were strained, eyes rolling back, and he licked his way across your mouth, a cheap and lousy kiss that barely counted, but it gave you enough of a taste of him to explode, Shaking as you came, your body was out of your control, more and more as your orgasm kept going. 

His pace faltered, the way you screamed his name enough to make anyone feel dizzy, a dazed smile on his face as it reached his ears. One, two, three more thrusts and he was collapsing down onto you, shuddering against your body as he smothered you, moaning your name with hot breaths on the shell of your ear as he came. 

His cock twitched between your walls, filling you up deep inside and making your jaw drop open just at the feel of it. He was still going as he pulled back, pulled out, the last of his load dripping down your folds and into the bed sheets, leaving you shuffling at the feeling, your whole body still reeling in the after-effects. 

He pushed sweaty hair out of his face, staring down at you and admiring the mess he had made you into. 

Your legs were still shaking as he leaned over to untie you, his own fingers a little unsteady and weak as he worked, freeing one wrist and kissing it softly on the red-marked skin. 

“What the hell am I supposed to do without orgasms like that for two whole weeks?” You sighed, and his laughter erupted from him in a burst so hard he almost collapsed down on top of you with the suddenness of it. You could only smile up at him as he stared down at you, hovering over your face and trying to calm his amusement. “What?”

“I was trying to be romantic just now,” He chastised, the blow never hitting, and he worked on freeing your other wrist, and kissing that one too. When you had the use of both arms back, you propped yourself up as best you could, watching as he wandered away to retrieve a cloth. “You could always send me sexy letters in the post about all the things you think about, and I’ll make them all come true when we get back.”

He reappeared in the room, and you raised your brows. “Oh, you want a wish-list of all my sexy, nonsense fantasies, huh?”

“I want literally nothing more than a sex bucket-list with you.” A quick cleaning charm, and a soothing swipe of the cool, damp fabric between your thighs, and then he was crawling back up the bed, collapsing down amongst the blankets to rest his head on your chest as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. His head bounced with your residual giggles, his arms circling your waist as best they could, snuggling into you as you lined the top of his head with kisses. “I love you, cara mia. You’re all that was on my wish-list this year.”

“I love you more, Teddy.” Another kiss, to his forehead as he looked up to you, a devoted smile on his face. “You’re everything I could ever wish for.”

[slytherinshua]

FATAL FLAW

genre. rivals to lovers. fluff. warnings. competitive/perfectionist reader. both reader and taesan dance competitively. a little jealousy. not proofread. pairing. taesan x fem!reader. wc. 1.1k. request. requested by anon for #6: "I realized why I couldn't stand you; I can't stop loving you and it's driving me crazy." a/n. this was only supposed to be like 500 words what happened... idk like the dance rival plot just appeared in my head so i was like okay lets go w that USUALLY WRITING FOR TAESAN IS RLY HARD SO IM GLAD THIS FIC WAS KINDA THE OPPOSITE SDJKS net. @onedoornet

Dongmin was your biggest rival in everything. Whether it was in school or at dance competitions, you would always be fighting for who would place first. You had a lot of respect for Dongmin, although your blood boiled whenever you placed second to him. Before he showed up, first place already had your name written on it before you even showed up to competitions. Your title as the ace was in limbo the second the raven haired boy showed his face.

You did well in school to make your parents happy, and were lucky enough to be able to place first without trying too hard. As long as you studied the material, your brain would do the rest. Dance was a different field, though. It was one of the only things that hadn’t come naturally to you as a child. Your parents were proud of you for sticking with something hard, hoping that you’d learn to persevere even when things were tough. When you eventually got to the top of your class in all dance areas as well, your parents were at a standstill. The appearance of Dongmin was celebrated by them, but not by you.

Worst of all, your parents were friends with his, and whether it was studying together or driving to dance class, they made sure your schedules were always intertwined. You saw the boy more than you saw your own friends. It was insufferable. You hated the way he smirked at you whenever he placed first, taunting you with those perfectly shaped eyebrows raising just slightly. You hated how he licked his lips, testing your self composure by making them look so inviting. And you hated his nickname for you; princess.

The week had been unpleasant all around. Dongmin had gone to extra dance classes in the morning, leaving you to get to school on your own. At first you had been excited at the idea— finally getting a break from the boy after months. Now you realized that having him next to you was better than seeing him at a distance. Your eyes couldn’t seem to leave him as you picked at your school lunch, eyeing him down like a hawk from across the cafeteria.

Why in the world was he talking to Minju and smiling? Your chopsticks almost snapped with how harsh you were holding them.

The situation only got worse that evening, as Dongmin had booked a slot at the studio to practice his solo, whereas you were left at home to study for a test which you already knew you would ace. You barely wrote anything in your notes, ending up spacing out instead, your phone open to Dongmin’s chat. You hated how you couldn’t get your mind off of him.

Your brain suddenly clicked, a sudden realization crashing down on you that you had never even considered before. And with your mind racing and impulsivity coursing through your veins, you grabbed your phone and rushed out of the house in the direction of the dance studio.

It was late in the night and only a couple rooms were in use, one of which was studio 8: where you could hear the music blasting for Dongmin’s solo. You didn’t bother knocking before entering the room, immediately catching the attention of a very surprised Dongmin.

“Hey, what are you doing here—“ 

“I need to tell you something.” You said simply. Dongmin gave you a questioning glance, but switched off the music regardless, grabbing a drink of water and a cloth to wipe his sweat. 

“You couldn’t have just told me over text or something?” He asked.

“No, I need to tell you in person.” 

Dongmin crossed his arms, taking a couple steps towards you, “Alright. Go ahead and say it, princess.” 

You took a breath, “I realized why I couldn’t stand you for all those months.” That caught Dongmin’s attention more than you storming into the practice room. He waited for you to continue speaking, eyes glued to your face.

“I can’t stop loving you and it’s driving me crazy.” You completed, daring to look up at his face, watching for his reaction.

You expected disgust or maybe his signature smirk to adorn his face like countless times before. He would probably enjoy having another way to beat you. But instead, shock and slight confusement showed on his face, a twinge of hope behind those ebony eyes. He took a tentative step forward, more hesitant than his previous ones, closing the rest of the distance between you and him. 

“You love me?” He questioned, trying to get his brain to process what you had just said. It was so unbelievable— especially coming from you. Dongmin had tried to get your attention for months. When his efforts only led to you getting mad, he had thought about giving up. But the rivalry kept your attention on him, and he quickly learned to accept that he might not have a chance with you, but he would still give it a valiant effort. 

You were the only girl he had ever crushed on, and he hadn’t anticipated that it would throw him headfirst into a lovesick disease that he couldn’t cure. You were both the poison and the antidote. Every day you plagued his mind, all efforts he tried to erase your pretty face out of his head failing. It was the fact that you were so close yet just out of reach that Dongmin couldn’t handle. He wanted you, needed you, for so many months. And now, finally, you were confessing to him.

“I-it’s stupid. I’ve hated you every single day since you first showed up. But, I can’t get you out of my head. Just get out of my head, please.” You whispered the last part in desperation, suffering from the very same lovesickness that Dongmin had endured for months. 

His eyes softened looking at you, but he shook his head, “I’ve tried for months to get you to think about me. I’m not gonna leave now.” He took hold of your wrist, pulling you forward so your face was mere centimetres away from his. His eyes asked for permission from you, eyeing your lips and eyes until you gave him a slight nod. He didn’t waste a second diving in, finally fulfilling what he had longed for since the first time he met you.

And it didn’t disappoint. The softness of your lips was just as he had imagined, and they fit perfectly with his, as if you were made for him. You— perfect face, perfect dance, perfect grades, perfect everything— had finally found your fatal flaw: falling for your rival. But maybe it wasn’t such a disastrous miscalculation on your part. Maybe you and Dongmin were destined to be from the start.

↳ boynextdoor taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @rizzshimura,, @captivq,, @icyminghao,, @eternalgyu,, @metalchick529,,

@schmocolateschmchip,, @kpoprhia,, @candewlsy,, @weird-bookworm,, @blossominghunnie,,

@kangtaehyunzzz,, @snowflakemoon3,, @lovialy,, @lecheugo,, @okshu,,

@wccycc,, @seunghancore,, @ujisworld,, @sobun1est,, @emmylksblog,,

@talkingsaxy,, @talking-saxy,, @nicholasluvbot,, @cupidslovearrows,, @dimplewonie,,

@hrtsvivis,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @kristianities

[kazutora-kurokawa]

hi darling! absolutely adore the recent hcs ❤️

can i request the tenjiku members and what kind of specific kinks/turn-ons and possible turn-offs they would have with their sexual partner(s) ?

Tenjiku x Reader: Turn-ons/Kinks and Turn-offs

♡ NSFW, fem reader, bondage, biting, breeding, blood kink, cockwarming, size kink, spanking, hair pulling, piercings, tattoos, face riding, thigh riding, hickeys, rough sex ♡

note: thank you for requesting love and sorry it took so long 🌸

Characters: Izana, Kakucho, Ran, Rindou, Shion, Mochi, Mucho

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Izana

🎴 He would love to tie you up, it makes him feel in control (he'd probably blindfold you too)

🎴 Loves when you sit in his lap, especially if you're riding his thigh

🎴 Likes when you pull on his hair (he would never admit it though)

🎴 Clinginess or you being too touchy is an instant turnoff for him (sorry to all the clingy babes out there)

Kakucho

🩷 He's relatively soft when it comes to sex, but he has a breeding kink

🩷 He just has this uncontrollable urge to fill you with his cum (he wouldn't even notice he has a breeding kink at first)

🩷 Likes cockwarming after he fills you up

🩷 He'd be against anything that could possibly hurt you

Ran

💜 Likes to spank you with his baton, prefers using his hand though

💜 He's not super into biting, but he enjoys leaving hickeys on your thighs and loves when you leave marks on his back with your nails

💜 He'd do anything you want except for having a threesome, he'd rather keep you all to himself

Rindou

🩵 If you have any tattoos, he's going to want to cum on them (bonus points if you get his name tatted)

🩵 Loves when you ride his face, the feeling of your thighs squeezing him turns him on

🩵 Chronic ass smacker, he always has his hands on it

🩵 Extremely loud and/or obnoxious people are a turnoff for him (in his opinion, you should only be loud in the bedroom)

Shion

🖤 Likes biting you, sometimes he nibbles and sometimes he chomps

🖤 He'd be obsessed with your tits regardless of size

🖤 He'd probably have a blood kink and would enjoy eating you out when you're on your period (you saw how he licked his bloody brass knuckles 😮‍💨)

🖤 He'd be against anything that could seriously hurt you though, if you aren't enjoying yourself then neither is he

Mochi

🍡 Size kink, this man is huge and loves being reminded of it (whine about how big he is and he's putty in your hands)

🍡 Loves women with piercings, doesn't matter where they're at. Lip piercing? Cute. Tongue piercing? Hot. Nipple piercings? He's pulling on them. Clit piercing? He's eating it up, literally and figuratively

🍡 Doesn't like when you try to take control during sex, he'll put you in your place real quick too

Mucho

🔷 Manhandles the fuck out of you, this man likes it rough

🔷 Another big man with a size kink, he loves seeing the bulge his dick makes when he's inside you

🔷 He absolutely refuses to fuck your ass (bro acts like you don't wash or wipe 😑)

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katshimizuu @happy-trenchcoated-impala @kazubarbie @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies

[icedmatchatae]

Good for Me | KTH

Pairing: Bad Boy Taehyung x Wholesome Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, PWP (porn with plot LMAO),

Summary: You went home for the weekend, leaving a pissed-off and bruised-up Taehyung dry and devastated. So what does he do?—follow you home. Insane? Probs, but you’re always good for him so why not?

Warning: OC’s parents are those strict nosy parents who still tell you what to do even if you’re 50 years+, mentions of Christianity hfrowhouw SUE ME, i have no idea what oc and tae are but you know there’s something, mentions of violence, blood, fighting, sneaky sneaky, dom tae x subby reader but tae is needy and whipped for her, he’s just a little shit, tae has a favorite curse word—it’s fuck, TAEHYUNG IS HUGE AND HUNG, aggressive handling (but oc consented), degradation/praise combo, pet names (because I’m a simp), oral (m. and f. receiving), fingering, spanking, tae enjoys seeing oc cry, licking, i think i have an obsession with orgasm control/denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex (don’t be like them), cream pie, cum play, the ending though MWAHAHAHAH

Word Count: 7.8k

A/N: I’m adding on for the taewhores and also wrote one lol BLAME THE FUCKING ELLE COVERS BECAUSE THIS SHOT OUT OF MY BLEEDING VAGINA DJDBDBSB I’M REPENTING AFTER THIS also cross-posted on AO3. Posting this at 2AM because that's when the feral wolf comes out :D

“You know ___, you shouldn’t be going out and partying. What if you do drugs and we don’t know? You know you should focus on yo—”

“Dad, for the last time, I’ve been focusing on my studies.” You rolled your eyes, not wanting a whole ‘nother lecture when you’re here, and you got here today! “I rarely go out too, plus if I do, I know I have to finish my work! You’ve seen my grades!”

“Yes, I know but still. Those worldly activities won’t get you anywhere in life but trouble.” Your dad expressed his continuous concern for you. He can’t help that you were his youngest. “Especially with boys! I mean your sisters have boyfriends but we don’t want that for y—”

“Dad, please. Nothing’s going on with me.” You semi-lied. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you stared exhaustingly at him. “It’s also not fair, but I don’t want to get into that.” You muttered under your breath as your father rested his hands on his hips.

“I’m just worried about you, sweet pea, especially since you’re farther away from us than your sisters were.” He reasoned worryingly. “We rarely hear from you too.”

“Because I’m just tired and I’m usually studying.” You shrugged. “I’m safe, okay? If I’m not, I know to call you or mom.”

“Fine…” He still didn’t look convinced, but it was enough to end it…for today only. “I always pray for your safety regardless. You should get some sleep since we’re waking up early tomorrow for the church fellowship.”

“I still don’t know why you wanted me to come for the weekend.” It was random and unexpected. But your father called you a couple of days back telling you to come back home for the weekend, so as a good and obedient daughter, you did.

“Of course, you needed to come.” He said like it was obvious. “As the pastor of the church and the one who’s hosting it, I’d like all my children to come.”

“But why aren’t the other two here?” You questioned. You haven’t seen your two older sisters yet.

“I mean they live around the area, unlike you since you’re hours away. We figured that they’ll meet us over there.” He responded. 

Great, you were the only one and had to deal with both of your parents for the entire weekend alone. At least your mom was already sleeping, but once she wakes up, it’ll only be twice as worse.

“Alright, well, I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.” You announced before hugging him. “Good night, love you.”

“Love you too, sweet pea, and remember, dear, the Lord is watching.” Your father pointed upwards, indicating the invisible yet existent one. You gulped before nodding obediently and going under your sheets. Before he left your room, he held the doorknob and said, “No boys, and don’t forget to pray!”

“Okay.” You didn’t even bother to look at him as you were situating yourself comfortably in bed. The bedroom lights were clicked off, yet the only light source was your bedside lamp. You heard your door closed shut and the sounds of his heavy footsteps disappeared away from your room before letting out a relieving sigh.

You don’t even know how long you could keep like this. There were many reasons why you wanted to be away for college, and this was one of them. You cheered yourself on right now, knowing that it’s just this weekend and you’ll be back in your freedom in no time.

This was where prayer came in handy, asking for the amount of strength and patience you’ll need with your parents. But it was all interrupted by the blue light and vibrations coming from your phone resting on your nightstand. This sigh you let out was more exasperated than before. You turned your head in that direction. You couldn’t really what was on it at this angle, but you definitely knew who it was.

You snatched your phone to find the 43 messages, 12 missed calls, and 2 voicemails from the one and only Kim Taehyung.

You honestly don’t know how you got into this mess, or how you weren’t able to get him away (probably because you still wanted him to be within reach). But the cycle continued.

It was probably because you were new to that town, having no background about your new hometown, and usually, those who lived there continued to stay there. You were fresh meat. But don’t get it wrong, people were nice and brought you in like you were always part of the community. You found new friends, even living with a girl who treated you so sweetly and caringly. It almost felt like they wanted to protect you from something…or rather someone.

That happened to be Taehyung.

You see here, folks. Kim Taehyung had a…infamous reputation. His name always got a reaction since the day he came into the world. What that meant was people were afraid of him. He grew up as a delinquent, had some family issues, got into loads of trouble, got suspended from school, was shipped to boarding school but got expelled and came back, and even got into countless fights. You recalled someone mentioning he once beaten his teacher up because he got a low grade that he shouldn’t have deserved.

He tended to get what he wanted. It didn’t help the fact that he came from a pretty well-off family, so whatever he did, it didn’t reach the police. Right? Fucking rich people.

Nevertheless, Taehyung’s behavior with or without his familial status was rogue. There have been rumors about him getting into gangs, drugs, you know the typical dark side of society. You couldn’t confirm nor deny it because despite his willingness to tell you, you never wanted to hear anything about it. Ignorance was bliss under this circumstance.

With that being said, when you first came here, you were instantly warned to stay away from him or else…You reasoned with, “or else what?” But then they proceeded to say the same things to you—he was dangerous, he harms others, he doesn’t care about anyone else but himself, if you’re in his way, he’ll wipe your entire existence away, and your life would get fucked up.

You did in fact listen and stayed away. You rarely knew of him or even saw him around, but it was better safe than sorry. Of course, fate begged to differ. 

Oh, that’s right. That’s how you got into this mess. You were partners with him in a general requirement course, and then after briefly talking to him, you realized he wasn’t all that bad.

First off, the dude was immaculate looking, like, who wouldn’t want to stare at his chiseled features? Yeah, he stared intensely almost like he wanted to kill you, but it affected you in other ways. His voice was cavernous and velvet like you wanted him to read the Bible to you.

He looked annoyed, yet he was a chill dude. There you thought—give him a chance and a break.

Oh boy, you thought wrong. So so wrong.

But did you love it? Absolutely.

This was why you needed to repent.

You didn’t even bother reading his texts. You decided to call him and annoyingly sat up from your comfortable position. The call didn’t even ring twice because, after the first one, he answered immediately.

“Petal, where the fuck are you?” He shouted through the phone. You squinted to yourself but weren’t as affected by his tone since you were used to it by now.

“I went home for the weekend.” You simply replied.

“And didn’t fucking bother to tell me?”

“It was a last-minute thing, and it slipped my mind.” You shrugged, then you pulled your blankets off of you to get up and habitually pace around the room while you talked. “Plus, you don’t have any authority to know where I am.”

“I absolutely do have the authority whether you like it or not.”

“Ew, red flag, why?” 

“I need to know if you’re safe.” His voice subsided this time, knowing he was probably pouting yet you couldn’t see it. Okay, this was rather valid since you were associated with the bad boy of the town.

“Well, I am safe. I’m away from school and all of that.” You blushed, feeling the butterflies in your stomach. “I’m with my parents too. My holy parents, might I add.” 

“Right, holy parents and your holy sisters who got married to other holy men.” You could hear the sarcasm leaving his mouth. “Yet there’s nothing holy about their slutty little girl and the man that’s been fucking her to hell.”

“Shhhhh, don’t say stuff like that, Taehyung!” You whisperingly yelled as you stopped your pacing to clench your legs together. You always hated how much of a potty mouth he was. Though you internally loved it. “You know I don’t like that.”

“Come on, Petal. I’m just lightening up my mood, especially since you left me.”

“I won’t be gone for that long. It’s only the weekend, and I’ll be back in no time.” You resumed your pace before standing in front of your window with your back facing it. 

“That’s too long for me to not have you.”

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do!”

“You can come back, Petal.”

“No, I can’t!” You shook your head. “My parents will get mad if I leave, for a boy too.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to let you take.”

“Taetae, no!” You were trying to stand your ground. You already had four lectures with your parents, you can’t argue with him right now. “I need to sleep, it’s getting late too!”

Though his heart fluttered at the use of the nickname, he was getting pissed off that you weren’t being a good girl for him. “Babydoll, be careful with your words. I’m warning you.” His voice went an octave down, shocking your body especially your cunt. Even hundreds of kilometers away, he had such a powerful effect on you.

“I am being careful! With everything. Now please, I have to get up early tomorrow. Good night, okay Taetae? I’m sorry.” You rushed your words in fear that you were getting too loud that your parents might hear.

“This isn’t ov—” You didn’t let him finish because you decided that this conversation was over. You didn’t want to get into trouble on both ends, but your parents scared you more than him. They’ll probably want to purify you if they found out you were stained by the lustful demon-like Taehyung.

Despite ending the call, here came Taehyung calling you over and over again. You could not be bothered with it, so you settled it back onto your nightstand. You were exhausted, frustrated, and horny, but sleep was above all right now. You had to bite your tongue and go to bed.

You were about to get back into your sheets when suddenly your window from the second level of the house opened, and a gust of wind pushed its way inside. Your head snapped back at the speed of light, then a large palm covered your entire mouth before you could scream your heart out.

Though in low light, your wild widened eyes saw his face.  But what sparked you was his concerning appearance. While disheveled ebony hair was pushed back with little strands falling off his forehead, yet there was a deep cut with dried-up blood around its corners. Hues of purple and yellow covered his rich eyes that gleamed in the night whilst glaring deeply into your soul. The perfect bridge of his curved nose had another pained gash. His ever-so-plumped lips were peeled and split open and the corner of his mouth held bruising. Despite all, he looked so perfect in your dazed eyes.

“Good night, okay Taetae?” At a lower volume, he mimicked your voice at a higher pitch than how you actually sounded. He dropped his hand off of you and started waving both hands around. “Oh, look, I’m ___. I need my rest to go to church with my pastor dad and repent all the nasty shit I do with my Taetae.”

You didn’t even bother to point out how he was inaccurately impersonating you because you were shushing him to shut up. “Taehyung, be quiet. My parents could hear you.” You shook your head, eyes shifting from the closed door to him. Then you realized it wasn’t locked, so you rushed there to lock it immediately. You checked the knob and once it didn’t budge, you peered back at the frustrated man standing tall and intimidating. “How did you even find me?”

“I always find you.” He snorted as his eyes roamed around your childhood bedroom. Very pink with an unhealthy amount of plushies scattered around and you had so many pictures of your family. Not to mention the Bible at your desk. “We also share each other’s location.”

“I don’t even look at yours.”

“That’s your fault.” He retorted back.

“Taetae, you’re all bruised up!” You gasped as you finally saw patches of blood stains on his denim and army fabric jacket. A sleeve was torn and ripped. His knuckles held more bruising cuts and discoloration. You couldn’t even process that he had no shirt underneath because battered markings painted his torso. It wasn’t unusual to see him like this because these things occurred regularly but never made you less at ease. You reached for his hands and inspected for any other cuts and bleeding. “Noo, do you feel like you have a concussion? Is your head also okay? Will you need stitches agai—“

Out of nowhere, his long fingers grasped under your jaw, pulling you closer to his face. His grip tightened, causing you to wince in pain. Dang, he was so furious. Not bothering to answer you, he interrupted your worries. “Now the fuck you were doing, talking back at me and hanging up? You’re not being a good girl right now.”

Though you were in a light panic for him, you didn’t like when he scolded you like that. You frowned profoundly, “I-I’m a good girl, Taetae.” Your cheeks were puffed and squishy, he even struggled to put a hard exterior.

You were always so soft even before him. You didn’t like getting scolded despite hearing numerous lectures from your parents. You always wanted to be obedient to those you loved. 

However, Taehyung’s scoldings hit a little differently.

“Oh yeah, does a good girl leave their man without permission?” Taehyung patronized you, he knew how to get you to fear him. You merely shook your head and apologized, but he wasn’t having it. “Words, Petal. Speak up.”

“No, they don’t. I-I’m sorry, Taehyung.”

He lets out a dark chuckle before he pressed his injured lips to your forehead. They felt soft and warm on your skin. “I don’t think you’re sorry, babydoll. Seems like the bad girl needs to be punished.”

You shook your head, lips pushing out into a pout. “No, please.” You breathed. “My paren—”

Taehyung tutted and rolled his eyes before using the hand that held your face to coerce your head down so you can drop down to your knees. “Kneel before me, slut.”

You whimpered weakly as your knees landed on the ground with a loud thud. Your palmed rested in front of his dirtied boots. Your heart palpitated fast in fear of getting caught, but your mind was preoccupied with the unexpected slap from the man before you.

You bit your lips deeply, trying not to make any more sounds. The tears in your eyes threatened to be released but you also held back by squeezing your eyes shut. More so to not give Taehyung satisfaction. But when you peeled them back open and looked up, it was over for you.

He leered down at you, his stone demeanor expanded by the second. You noticed his naked chest raising harshly from the breaths he took. You immediately felt smaller and smaller the longer you stared at each other in this position.

“Be a good girl and take my cock out”. He commanded as he threaded his fingers through your hair and yanked you closer. “Now.”

You didn’t hesitate any longer. Your trembling hands tugged his belt off. You tried your best to quicken up the pace, but it seemed to hold you back as you struggled with the button pants and zipper. Taehyung noticed too so he fastened his grip on you to tell you to hurry up, making you weep.

“S-sorry.” You apologized quietly but it wasn’t enough for him. Once you pulled his pants down, you were met with a familiar bulge in his underwear. When you freed him, his monstrous dick slapped his toned stomach and bounced before you.

Taehyung never failed to amaze you with how colossal he was. The first time you saw it you wanted to run away, but he caught you and you got hooked. His darkened mushroom head was huge while the base was thick and his curved length was long and veiny. It was the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen and seemed that God blessed him very well. 

Nothing happened between the two of you yet but the slit of his tip pearled fluids. You gawked agape with your mouth parted and tongue swiping your lips. His dick twitched, waiting for you to do something but you were too mesmerized.

Impatiently, using his unoccupied hand, he seized your jaw again, keeping your mouth open. “You’re fucking taking too long.” It didn’t take him long to bring your lips to his cock and push all of him in one motion.

You let out a muffled cry with watery eyes. If the tears fell before, they sure did now.  Your throat muscles throbbed around him from the unexpected slamming.  You gagged painfully, especially since his blunt head hit the back of your throat. Your mouth produced trickling drool all over him and down your chin. You were by no means prepared, but Taehyung didn’t seem bothered as he began his harsh pace.

You held onto his muscular thighs. You were crying so much but your sobs were smothered by the cruel thrusts of his rabid cock. Despite the sting, the actions sent a flood to your thin underwear. The familiar warmth covered your stomach, clenching your thighs together for some pressure on your poor leaking cunt.

“Fuck, Petal. Shit.” He cursed lowly. His cavernous moans echoed through the air. “Look at me.” His order sounded like a threat. He stopped his movements; his cock halfway in your mouth. When you opened your heavy lids, he looked so hot and bothered even in your blurry vision. “My pretty girl.” His thumb wiped off the trail of tears. 

You were always pretty in his eyes, smiling, and laughing, even when you get angry at his annoying ass. But he especially thought you were pretty when he made you cry like this. 

Then he went back to bobbing your head brutally on him. Your nails scratched his thighs, leaving indents on them. You retched again, spit drenching all over him. “Fucking amazing for a slut like you. Is this what you wanted, since you’re a fucking bad girl?”

You wanted to say no, but you couldn’t so you shook your head and whimpered. You weren’t a bad girl. You were good!

You were getting lightheaded, feeling so stuffed to even breathe. Taehyung observed your face getting a little pale. You always forgot to learn how to breathe when giving him a blow job.

He pressed into you once more and a bit longer than usual, so he can imprint the feeling of your mouth again into his spank bank. He ultimately pulled out, leaving a long string of drool from his tip to your crimson lips. His dick covered in your sweet saliva. 

You heaved profoundly and wept here and there. You wanted to tell him off, but you were too scared to say anything. You pushed the tears away with the back of your hand and gulped your words but it pained you to do that.

“God, you’re messy,” He laughed cynically at you. “Aww, you’re upset, babydoll?” He asked condescendingly.

“N-no,” You sniffed, trying your best to be strong. “I’m not.”

“Good, you better not.” He said, letting go of your hair. “Stand up.”

This time you were swift on your feet. Though with painful reddened knees, you stood up wobbly and held Taehyung’s biceps for some support. He hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you to be chest to chest with him. 

Being like this, you saw how he towered over you. The height difference wasn’t compared to a gremlin and the Incredible Hulk but he was still way taller than you. He absorbed your appearance, finally taking in how you wore a cute brown bear pajama shirt and matching shorts. The fresh aroma of roses from your body wash and your natural scent swirling into his nostrils sent his pheromones into a frenzy. He wanted you so badly.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you while your parents are sleeping?” His hot breath splashed your face, fluttering you into submission. You unconsciously nodded excitingly but it caused him to tut at you. “I’m not gonna tell you again. Exact words, babydoll.”

“Yes!” You shouted too quickly that only after you caught yourself, covering your mouth with your palms. He smirked at your reaction—so needy for him. Just the way he loved it. Your hands slowly traveled to his shoulders as you batted your beautiful irises at him. You didn’t like swearing, but it came often when you were with him alone. “Uhh, p-please f-fuck me. I’m your good girl, Taetae.”

The perfect answer.

He bent down to peck the tip of your nose then went further down to lick the trunk of your neck. He picked a spot before suckling around to mark his territory. You mewled at the sensation, slithering your arms around his nape. He began moving towards your bed while you stepped back, following his lead until you fell back onto the sheets of your mattress. Your back rested while your legs hung at the edge of the bed.

Your unapologetic eyes wandered his frame.

He kicked his pants and boots off his ankles, leaving him in only his jacket. But even that, he took off. The faded and lighter scars sprawled his torso, showing evidence of fights and brawls through the years. The fresher wounds battered his rough skin and once you saw gauges wrapped around his right hip with blood patches seeping through, you sat up straight with pupils dilated.

“Taehyung, your—”

“I didn’t tell you to speak,” He growled, and stalked to the bed before pushing your shoulder roughly to lay back down. Your body bounced, trying to process what was happening but he tugged your shorts and panties down and off your skin.

He kneeled in front of you, callous palms spreading your thighs apart to reveal your leaking puffy pussy. He didn’t even touch you and you were this soaked. He inhaled deeply, taking in your sweet essence.

Jesus Christ, you were always embarrassed when he did that. It was like his human nature devolved into animalistic instincts. His mouth had a mind of its own, nibbling your inner thighs and placing even more marks on you like he wanted to claim you. You gasped quietly, jerking a little. So sensitive as always. His thumbs stretched your nether lips apart, revealing more of you to him. The petals of your sex opened for him. Your little hole throbbing around nothing but secreted so much wetness, even spotted your tiny clit inflamed, begging to be touched.

But to your luck, Taehyung wasn’t the type to get on with it right away…well he can, but most of the time, he chose not to. No, sir, he took his time with you, to the point you had to drop your pride and beg. His fingers lightly caressed your sex, enough for you to feel it but do no pleasure.

“Tae,” You whined, hands reaching for him but he swatted them away.

“Don’t touch me, put them on your sides.” He seethed through his teeth.

“But—”

Smack! The slap stung your cunt, making you welp loudly. He does another and your head turned to the side. You cried, pressing your face into your blankets. Taehyung continued hitting your pussy until it was red and sensitive.

“Naughty girl!” He slapped your lips once more, jolting your feeble body. “What’s wrong with you tonight? You think just because you’re with your family that you forgot all the rules we had, hm??”

“N-n-no.” You sobbed, shaking your head cowardly. “I promise I reme—”

A knock came on your bedroom door.

Both of your heads shot toward the direction with wide eyes. Another knock happened again before the person on the other end said, “___?” Another knock. “Sweet pea, I heard noises. Are you good?” Then the fucking knob jiggled, but fortunately, you locked it. “Why’d you lock the door? What are you doing?”

Shoot, it was your dad. Your pastor dad. Now your heart was heavy and dropped down to your uneasy stomach. You needed to say something quickly, but no words came out. You shifted to see Taehyung who shrugged and smirked devilishly, leaving you to fend for yourself. 

It was only until your dad said, “Do I need to use the spare keys to open the door?” That you spoke up.

“No! I’m good, I just…I accidentally dropped my phone on my face.” You lied, praying he’d buy it. 

“You and your dang phone.” He complained through the door. Taehyung’s mouth went wide with silent laughter hearing you get scolded. You pursed your lips, shaking your head. He was no help at all because there was a gleam of mischief and it wasn’t a good sign at all. “You need to get off of that thing, sweet pea. You won’t have enough sleep. Remember you’re joining the praise team in the morning.”

“Yes, dad! I know. I’m sorry to—unghhh.” Your sentence was interrupted by the sudden breach from Taehyung’s two long fingers sliding in so smoothly into your cunt. 

“___? ___, are you okay?” Your dad questioned as he continuously knocked on your door.

It didn’t take long for Taehyung to find your g-spot, curling his fingers to muscle memory. His digits pumped into you, and at times, he thumbed your clit. He had your eyes rolling back and biting your lips to stop your struggling whimpers. “I-I’m f-fine right now. D-d-ahh worry!”

“Are you sure you’re fine? You sound like you’re in pain.”

Taehyung dived into your pussy, taking a long lick before wrapping his lips around your sensitive nub. The tips of his fingers did their magic hitting your insides, playing with the squish of immense ecstasy.

You shrieked involuntarily, fisting the blankets under you as you threw your head back. “Yes, I’m fine!” You groaned distressingly. “I-I’m so…touched by my prayer before sleeping.” You swore faintly when Taehyung suckled and flattened his tongue on your clit.

“Prayer to the Lord is always so emotional, sweet pea.” Your father pointed out, but you really didn’t give a shit. “Alright, don’t want to disturb your time. Hope you get some sleep soon though. Good night.”

His footsteps faded away and you mentally cheered that you didn’t get caught, but you had sudden guilt that you basically spoke to your father with a guy eating you out.

Taehyung released his mouth off you to see how you appeared, crumbling at his touch. Your face wrinkled together with your mouth parted, and you saying his name with your pretty voice had his aching cock twitching. He reached over to the hem of your shirt and pulled it up, revealing your soft bare breasts and hardened nipples. “Such a pretty girl. Touched by the prayer? No, no, I’m the one you should be praying to.”

“D-don’t say that.” You moaned he knew you were very much in tune with your spirituality but he also liked to mess around with you.

“Why, Petal? You don’t like what I say, hmm?” He pouted mockingly, pushing his fingers deeper into you. You gasped, digging your head into the mattress. “I’ll give you everything that you want.” These blankets did no justice, you needed to hold onto him. You put your hand out, silently asking to hold him. Taehyung was mean but he wasn’t that mean…at least not today, so he accepted your request and intertwined his vacant hand with yours.

He felt your cunt getting tighter, understanding what was about to happen. Well, remember how Taehyung wasn’t that mean? That statement was taken back because he said, “Don’t come until I say so.”

You whined, giving your best doe-eyes and pinkest pout. “Please, Taetae. Wanna cum.”

Without removing any touch of you, he stood from his feet before covering your entire body with his large one. His face leaned down until your noses touched. “No.” He simply replied, yet his pace wasn’t slowing down. “Hold it.”

Your eyes twitched, wrestling to keep your orgasm under control. He always loved to play with you like this. You attempted to stabilize your breathing, deep and slow breaths. In…and out. In…and out. Yeah, this wasn’t working when Taehyung’s four-inch fingers were jamming into you. The pressure in your stomach tightened, clenching your abdominals to get your reach. It wasn’t a good girl thing to do, but he was mean!

“Can’t! Please!” You begged once more, knowing it couldn’t be stopped.

“No, be a good girl.”

Sorry, Taehyung but it was too late. Your eyes were already going to the back of your head, and you were prepared for the high of it all. But once you started arching your back, he pulled his fingers and hand away from you. You still had your orgasm but it felt so weak going through it without him helping you come down. Your pussy burned unpleasantly.

He glared at you, watching your lousy orgasm go to waste. All because you didn’t listen to him. But whose fault was that? Taehyung will never take the blame.

Pathetically unsatisfied, you came down and exhaled. It physically and emotionally pained you how shitty that orgasm was. And with a pissed-off Taehyung looming over you, it’ll be torture.

“Bad, bad girl.” Taehyung was disappointed at you, something you grimaced over. “I told you not to but you didn’t it anyway.”

“I couldn’t stop it…” You whispered.

“Couldn’t stop yourself? You really are a fucking slutty bad girl.” Getting slightly self-conscious from his jeering eyes, you closed your legs and covered your chest. Your face flushed with post-orgasm and shame.

Taehyung saw your actions, softening his tough demeanor. He lifted you to the middle of the bed before climbing over your concealed body. At this angle, the moonlight struck his body. Every muscle and indent defined, every wound and bruise visible, every part of him shined so beautifully and perfectly. 

His knees spread your legs open to go in between while carefully pulling your arms off your chest. His face goes down to yours, planting little kisses all over your face in hopes he doesn’t make you feel too bad. “Tell me if I go too far, Petal. Don’t hide from me.”

You shook your head, “You’re not. I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I’ll be good, I promise.”

You were soooo good to him. He smiled tenderly, pecking another on the tip of your nose before the demon smirk came back. “Then you’re still gonna get it. Get on your knees.”

You nodded and were about to twist your body when Taehyung grasped your waist and flipped you over. He pushed down your back, arching your ass up before landing a loud slap to it. You cried into the pillow, hugging it as if it was like your protection. He slapped the other cheek, receiving another reaction from you.

“Since you’re weak at controlling yourself,” He grabbed his thick length. His head played with you, gliding across the slit and collecting your saturation until he aligned it with your hole. He puts a little bit of pressure, enough to make you moan for more but then stopped. “Maybe I should punish you by giving more than what you can handle.”

That was…even worse. But you had to accept it, so you could be the good girl for him. 

Knowing he could maim you, he steadily filled you up. You felt every inch of him getting deeper and deeper inside, the stretch of your pussy left a dull ache. He held your hips as he guided himself in. Once he bottomed out, the both of you let out a sigh of relief. Every time you do this, it always felt like the first time because of how big he was.

“So fucking tight, Petal.” He hissed. The sensation of you pulsating had his head thrown back.

After a while, the two of you knew it was time for him to move. Taehyung pulled himself back, leaving his head and then piercing back in. You jolted forward, but he kept you firmly to continue his aggressive yet even pace. Each penetration to your spot left you wailing into the pillow, gripping its covers. The slapping of your skin resonated in your childhood bedroom, the only sound that could be heard other than Taehyung’s heavy breathing and your keens.

“This is what you wanted, right?” Taehyung asked lowly before speeding up his movements, making you louder in the cushion. When he didn’t get the answer that he wanted, he looped your hair around his hand and hauled your upper body until your back pressed to his sweaty chest. You winced in pain but you hooked an arm around his neck.

“I want—unggh, y-yes.” Tears fell on your cheeks. Your neck extended to the side, giving him full access to licking and sucking your skin. “A-am I being a—your good g-girl?”

“You’re such a fucking good girl, Petal. Fucking good girl.” He praised you, muffling into your neck. His other hand kneaded your boob, massaging your nipple between his appendages. You groaned at the added touch. The twist in your stomach rose, sensing another high coming soon. Taehyung noticed you tightening around his ramming shaft, so he slid his hand down to your clit and made circular motions. “Cream around my cock again. Come on, pray to me. Bless my name with your sweet sounds.”

“Taehyung, please, please, ahh.” You breathed heavily, bringing your head back to rest on his shoulder. His length ravaged your insides and his fingers pinched your sensitivity until the knot released. You splashed with blistering ecstasy, almost about to scream at the top of your lungs but his palm covered your pitched sounds. You stifled chants of his name with your rolling eyes, even lapping your tongue over his callous. His thrusts slowed down this time, easing you down. He showered you with compliments, kissing your jaw and cheek. 

Once you came back, he took himself out of you to lay you down. He needed to see your face clearly at least once. He grabbed himself and plunged in again. You keened in volume, but Taehyung shushed you. “Babydoll, be quiet. Don’t want your dad to exorcise the both of us.”

You nodded pliantly and slapped hands over your lips. He moved at his previous pace, yet your sensitivity increased after your two orgasms. You were overstimulated but pushed through to help him meet his climax. He handled your hips where it would leave bruises days after. He hunched over to your chest, latching onto your nipple and swirling it with his tongue.

His touch was a mixture of all—needy, urgent, warm, cool, rough, and supple. You loved it all, you wanted more of him. You quivered into your palms, muting the uncontrollable noises escaping you.

He popped off your nub. His thrusts jerked faster and sloppier, recognizing how close he was. His resonant whimpers rung through your ears. It was like his thumb was magnetic to your clit because it was on you again and flicking rapidly. You shuttered, shaking your head at the intensity. It was too much. “One more for me, Petal. I wanna feel you, please.”

Darn, he said please. There was no way to deny him. After four more pumps, he buried himself still. He painted your insides white with his cum, whining your name. Meanwhile, you tirelessly came again. Blinding white spots came into your vision, ringing happened in your eardrums. The feeling of scorching euphoria spread all over your body as you curved your spine. Your hands were replaced with Taehyung’s mouth, sluggishly kissing you and keeping you as quiet as possible but let’s be real.

He kissed your lips once more before scooting in between your neck and shoulder to leave more smooches on your perspiring skin. His cum inside electrified you, feeling it flood around. It wasn’t until his softening dick pulled out of you, that the dam of cum seeped out your weeping pussy.

What an immaculate sight that he couldn’t resist.

Your energy-drained body thought it was over. But Taehyung had other plans because once you felt his tongue on your enlarged overloaded clit, you gasped in shock. “Taehyung, can’t anymore!” Your fingers attempted to push him off of you but you were too helpless and fatigued to overpower his strength.

He tasted the concoction of both of your cum, playing with the juice all over you and his mouth. He was addicted to the taste, vibrating another low moan to your clit.

You begged for him to stop, but he wasn’t going to finish until you came one more time. He lets go hastily and said, “Last one. Come on, Petal.”

Then there was your last orgasm. It was weaker than the previous, better than the first, but the most agonizing one. It burned but was so divine. You shoved your face into your cushion, crying away from every sensation and emotion you felt. 

Taehyung was finally off of you and went up your body to kiss you again. But you were so lethargic, you couldn’t keep up and lay there like a Twinkie. You didn’t even comprehend how he walked out of your bedroom to look for the bathroom, knowing damn well your parents could see him.

But he made it back alive and unseen with a damp cloth to clean you up. He wiped you clean as you stared at him with so much endearment and swell to your heart even after pounding you like an animal.

After he was done cleaning, he threw the dirtied rag to the ground before climbing back in bed and putting the covers over your naked bodies. “You did so good, ___. My good girl, my favorite girl.” He pressed a kiss on your temple before you fell into slumber.

-

“___, wake up! We’re gonna be late!” Harsh knocks through your door disrupted your dreams. You groaned loudly, wanting to go back to sleep. “Sweet pea, get dressed!” It was your mom calling for you. You rubbed your eyes sluggishly in your raggedy state and rolled over. With squinting lids, you searched for your phone to check the time.

You overslept, and you panicked a bit. You kept your cool, it was fine. This was a small bump, but you’ll get over it.

Suddenly, something or someone shifted beside you. You turned your head before you were fully awake by your heart dropping down and coming out of your ass. A peaceful hibernating and naked Taehyung was by your side, cuddling your body. No wonder you woke up with furnace-like heat against you.

Immediately, you shot out of your bed to stand up but you completely forgot that after a night with Taehyung, you become temporarily paralyzed from the waist down. So you stood up and your feeble numb legs made you drop to the floor.

“___, are you awake? I heard a noise.” Your mom questioned again.

“Yeah,” you grimaced at how raspy your voice was. “I-I just woke up, I’m sorry.” You crawled towards the other side of the bed where Taehyung was.

“You have 30 minutes! I told you not to stay up late at night! You know…”

You tuned out her lecture because you were trying to wake Taehyung up in fear that you might get caught. “Taetae, wake up.” You were usually so gentle because it took him a while to fully get up but you slapped the shit out of him.

His eyes stammered open in surprise. He bolted awake and in pain. He was about to yell but you covered his mouth as you stared with alarming pupils. “It’s morning, my parents are awake. I need to get ready and you need to leave.”

“___! Are you listening to me? Do I need to open your door to get you ready?” Your mother complained, trying to open your door but it was still locked. “I’m getting the key—”

“No, mommy!” You protested. Both of your heads directed to the door with widened eyes. “I swear I’ll get ready. I promise I’ll be quick.”

“Okay…I’m almost done with breakfast.” She announced.

You breathed out in relief, knowing you were clear for now. But once you looked over to the naked man still in your bed, you had another morning task to do. “You need to leave. If I don’t come out in five minutes to go get my teeth brushed, my parents will come to get me out.”

Usually, Taehyung would play around, but he knew this time meant business. He nodded obediently. You rolled away to give him some space to get out and gather his scattered clothes. As he was getting dressed, you watched him.

The bruises, the cuts, and that deep wound were all still there. It made you upset, frowning at the mere thoughts of what Taehyung dealt with before coming to see you. You never liked what business or situation he was in, you didn’t know fully but again, just by looking at it, it was not good.

Taehyung detected your staring, but he was surprised at your sad state. “What’s wrong, Petal?”

“I know I said I don’t wanna know what you do, but it won’t change the fact that I don’t like seeing you get hurt.” You explained. “I’m seeing all of this and I’m worried sick, Taetae.”

He sighed, putting his jacket back on then walking over to pick you up on your feet. You used him as leverage. You acted like a baby dear standing on its legs for the first time, making him chuckle at your struggling state but it was too adorable. “I’m sorry for worrying you. You probably wanted to know what happened and I’ll tell you more about it later, but let’s just say I’m trying to get out of the things.”

Your eyes sparkled with joy, “You are? You’re not just saying that, are you?”

He smiled and shook his head, “I’m not just saying that. I’m serious. I’ve been…in it for a long time but I’ve been also wanting to stop.” You nodded understandingly. “Wanna do this for myself, but for you. I don’t want any of them or other affiliations to find you and use you against our will. It’s not easy, hence why I arrived like this, but it’ll come to an end.”

“Okay,” You grinned sweetly before puckering your lips and waiting for him to come.

He leaned down and accepted you, He circled his arms around your body as he kissed you tenderly. He parted away, foreheads touching. “I’m gonna miss you, Petal.”

“As I said, it’ll only be this weekend. I’ll be back tomorrow night.” You reassured but it wasn’t enough to prevent the pout on his lips. “Come on.”

The two of you walked over to the window. He opened the pane as he prepared his descent. His legs were out hanging, his arms and torso still inside your room. You went over to give him one last kiss for his travels back.

“I’ll miss you too, Taehyung.” You giggled, captivating his entire heart.

Feeling overwhelmed with the thoughts and emotions of you, he blurted out, “I love you so much, ___.” It was the first time either of you said it, and he just realized what he said when his eyes grew the size of saucers and stared at him like he was insane. You were a fish, opening and closing your mouth with no words coming out. You didn’t know how to react, but you definitely felt your heart palpitating briskly. 

Before you could finally say anything, he abruptly goes, “Okay, well, yeah bye. See you in psychology class.” He descended as fast as he could, trying to get away as possible. You didn’t even watch him out the window, which was a good thing for him as reached the ground. While walking away, he was mentally screaming at himself and fisting the air at what he did.

-

You were finally dressed and appropriate for church. You fixed the clip in your hair before walking out of your room and down the stairs. Yet your thoughts were elsewhere and about the boy who was in your room not too long ago.

He said I love you. The fucking bad boy of the town confessed his love for you. What the fuck? First of all, you weren’t even together. You didn’t know what you were, whatever. The only thing you knew was that Taehyung would beat the shit out of any guy that came your way. Second, it was an odd choice to say a confession after a sneaky night at your lover’s childhood house with their parents sleeping at the end of the hallway.

Thirdly, you knew what your feelings were but the little shit didn’t give you a chance to comprehend and tell your side. Ugh, now you have to deal with him opening up once you were back in town.

You reached the kitchen, greeting your parents. Your mom told you to take a seat as she prepared a plate for you. She glanced at you, then took another look intently yet you didn’t seem to notice.

Once seated, your father scrolled his phone for news and reread his notes for his sermon. He gazed up at you, then did a double take before raising an eyebrow yet you didn’t see his stare as your mom walked towards the table with your breakfast.

You were too busy looking down at the settled breakfast before to spot the questionable looks your parents made. Once you were about to devour your eggs and kimchi, your dad stopped you. “What were you doing last night?”

You blinked, “I was on my phone late at night, and did my emotional prayer, remember?” Your father hummed, nodding eerily calmly.

Then your mother spoke up as blunt and knowledgeable as she was. “Then why do you have hickeys all over your neck?”

A/N: There will NOT be a part two :D

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DMC Boys - Devil Trigger Sex

DMC Boys  - Devil Trigger Sex

Parings: Dante (All Main Line Game Versions), Reboot Dante, Vergil (All Main Line Game Versions), Reboot Vergil, Nero (DMC4 & 5 Versions), V, Sparda, Credo, Nelo Angelo x Reader

Synopsis: Monster fucking. Need I say more?

Seriously though, this is a sexy little thought experiment that I had and am doing for fun. What would it be like to have sex with the DMC boys while they are in Devil Trigger? Some notes: 1. Some characters will have multiple entries since Devil Trigger designs change every game and sometimes multiple in the same game (except for Sparda who is always the same). 2. Some characters don’t have a basic ‘body turns into demon’ Devil Trigger so I take the equivalent and work with that.

Disclaimer: Don’t actually fuck a demon, it will probably hurt, lol. But if you're into that then I ain’t gonna stop you from gettin’ that sinner tail. ¬‿¬

Trigger Warnings: aggressive lovemaking, claiming, blood, interspecies sex

DMC1 Dante

Something to note is that at this point Dante is not using his own Devil Trigger, he is harnessing the power and appearance of the demon spirits in his weapons. This results in some interesting qualities.

When Dante DTs he does not need to stay in the demon form and can freely switch back to a human body while still having the improved speed, strength, and elemental power. This means that if taking his demon body gets a bit hard for you partway through, he can switch to his human body to give you a break without pausing the lovemaking.

A negative, however, is that because he is getting his power from the demon spirits in his weapons, he has to be at least touching his weapons to DT for you. Having a big sword strapped to his back makes positioning hard. Wearing Ifrit, though it is less of a gauntlet and more like gloves with large dragon-shaped safeguards surrounding it, makes it hard for him to touch and grab things.

Although, if you are down to do some foreplay with the weapons, whether it be a thrill of perceived danger or some provocative allusion, then their presence might just be a positive.

Another thing to keep in mind is the elemental effects his DTs have. Alastor is lightning and Ifrit is fire. And this is real lightning and fire coming off him. Dante can minimize the elemental effects and focus the power away from you. However, expect to receive little zaps and licks of fire at random when Dante’s focus falters.

As for his body while in DT, he has two forms.

The Alastor DT has wings, but they are thick and small, really only meant to fly himself, so no blanketing or flying with you.

He doesn’t have any claws, just rounded fingers, so no accidental or purposeful scratching.

He has shoulder horns that point forward so if he is getting closer you have to be right in front of him, though they are good for holding onto to brace yourself. Or, if you are on top you can lean down or lay on top of him and slot yourself between them or under them, helping to lock you in place.

His eyes are covered in a helmet-like protection so no gazing into his eyes, though it does give a layer of mystique. His mouth is still free for kisses thankfully.

His hair is gone, now replaced with hedgehog-like spikes that are surprisingly soft, flexible, and pleasant to touch for both of you if you go with the grain. Slotting your fingers through them is hard, especially the closer you get to the base, but because of how solidly and directly connected they are to his head, when you grab them he really feels it and pulling them is more of an order than a suggestion for him to move his head.

The Ifrit DT has no wings and doesn’t move as fast, but he is beefier and more powerful. Pinning you to the wall with his arms hooked under your legs just got a lot easier.

He has curved spikes on his heels which may not seem like they have utility outside of more painful kicks, but when you are ridding him while he lays on the air or over most anything regardless of shape because he has hooked his feet into the ground, then you will realize the possibilities of them.

His thighs are thicker and the inside of his legs are smooth so wrapping his legs around you is just as good, if not better, than usual. Though he now has curved spikes around his waist so you doing the same to him won’t work anymore.

He has curved, ram-like horns on his head which make great handlebars, especially when he is working his mouth on you.

The hedgehog spikes on his head are shorter, harder to grab, and he now has them protruding from his wrist to cover the top of his hands. So, even without claws, you will probably still get poked and scratched. These spikes are just as sensitive so doing things like sliding your hand, palm down, along the back of his hand gives him the most delightful of shivers up his arms and down his back.

So this is the first part I wrote so it will probably be a bit weird as I try to figure out what I want to do for these. Anyway, DMC1 Dante is the first to have multiple DT designs in one game. This one only has two (he technically has one more but it is just Sparda so you will see my thoughts when you get to Sparda), so it isn't too bad. I fear 3 though.

A big issue I had with DMC1 DTs is that there are not that many good, high-quality images and videos of the DT so it is a bit hard to make out the details. And some details aren’t shared between the one official image of each DT and the in-game model. For example, you can’t see the hedgehog spikes around Ifrit’s DT hands in the official art, but you can see it in-game. And in these games, since you only turn into a demon when attacking or flying, you can’t just look at him from all angles while he stands still. SO annoying. I tried though.

Nelo Angelo (Spoilers for DMC1)

To start, you need to understand how large this man is. We are talking around 8 feet tall and 3 feet wide. He will tower over you in every circumstance. Things like being able to wrap your arms around his neck or kiss him will have to happen upon request, especially if he is standing or you are already impaled on him.

It also means that the stretching you will have to go through will be rough. With just a single finger of his being equivalent to the average size, you are in for some serious training if you don’t want to feel the burn. ‘If’ being the operative word.

Stomach bulge inbound.

His strength is also impressive, able to lift even large men like Dante up by the neck singlehandedly, and he will do the same to you if you want it.

What YOU want is the focus as, with how warped his mind is to be subservient, his agency is low and his will to follow your requests and orders is high.

He is covered in thick armour that he cannot fully remove as it is magically fused to his body, but he can remove and shift some choice pieces. For example, he can remove his helmet, revealing his human head, though it is larger than most just like the rest of his body.

Nelo Angelo’s face under the helmet may be that of a human man, but it was cold, stoic, and pale, like a statue. Yet it reacts when you manipulate it, whether through pulling his hair, opening his mouth, or kissing him. He moves with you, molding himself to receive your affection and mirror it, hinting at the heart still hidden away inside of him.

His armour is thick and cold but can become warm over time thanks to your body heat. It also has strips of pulsating, glowing colour which change depending on his status. These strips also create a ‘V’ over his crotch which almost gives an underwear illusion and also offers quick and easy visual feedback when your mouth is on him. So, despite his physical reaction being minimal, the deepening of the coloured strips will be the best tell to know how good he is feeling, along with his wordless noises.

Nelo Angelo cannot speak, that right has been taken from him by his master, but his groans of exertion and pleasure are loud and clear.

Nelo Angelo’s armour is surprisingly smooth, lacking in sharp claws or spikes. Even the horns on his helmet are curved downward so the chances of getting sudden jabs in low. The only points you have to watch out for are his knee guards which are tall and sharp. Although they can be used as spots to place your feet to get a bit of height or as something you can push against to force yourself back into him harder.

Is Nelo Angelo a Devil Trigger? Yes and no. It is technically Vergil’s natural state while under Mundus’ control. However, in DMC3, if Vergil is wearing the ‘Corrupted Vergil’ costume, Nelo Angelo is his Devil Trigger form. Is the appearance in DMC3 cannon? No. Did I do this just because there is something hot about the idea of being with someone/something 2-3 feet bigger than me? Yes.

DMC2 Dante

Dante has the Amulet, a magical item that, when you place devil hearts into it, gives his Devil Trigger different attributes and abilities, meaning you can customize and tailor your sexual experience.

You want him to move fast? Slam into you with more power? Fly? Slow down time? He can do that.

You want some temperature play with fire or ice? Or receive some little shocks? Your desire is his command.

Though he can only have so many demon hearts active at once so if you wanna switch there will be a few-second pause to change his loadout.

Dante here has two DT’s, his base Devil Trigger and his desperation Majin/Sin Devil Trigger.

In his base DT, his face is still mostly human. His skin is rougher and he has some veins that distend, but he has eyes to gaze into, a nose to rub against yours, and lips to kiss.

His wings are longer, though the height and thickness are the same so they can’t offer you the blanket effect but they can wrap around you and hold you close.

He has hair for you to play with! It is not as silky smooth as him in his human form and a bit more solid than normal hair but nowhere near horn level. So, you can run your hands through it, twirl it, and grab it all you want.

He has claws so prepare for some scratches.

He also can produce gun barrels from his hands so if you are into the illusion of danger or force in your play, he has that going for you.

He also has flaps of leather armour that will drape over you like the tails of his leather coat.

Being able to make love while Dante is in his Majin DT is a rarity since he has to be greatly physically weakened. The only times you can get this form is if he is extremely sick and you convince him to do it or when he just finished a battle. While still buzzing with adrenaline and an animalistic/demonic frame of mind he may just jump you of his own volition to let out his energy and claim you as his and him as yours.

Dante grows over a foot when going into Majin DT so he will tower over you more than usual. And with his wider frame and four wings, be prepared to be fully encompassed by him, trapped in a cocoon of heat and passion.

His edges are sharper and his skin is a lot harder. He is also less human-shaped. For example, instead of his waist, hips, and legs all flowing into each other, his hip consists of a thick plate to which half of the top of his legs attach and his torso thins to a V shape that attaches to the plate, leaving a flat surface to his hips that you could place a cup on. It is unnatural and might take some time to get used to. And if you were to wrap your legs around his hips, placing them into the crevices between his torso and hip plate, they with be squeezed and firmly held in place.

He has horns on top of his head, a bit short but still enough to grasp, and horns that start on the side of his head and curve to the front. This means that if you try to deny him kisses by turning your head, you will get poked in the cheek for your trouble.

He has growths under his forearms that are sharp and produce laser blades. They get in the way sometimes when he tries to hold you, but again, if you are into the illusion of danger he can always hold a blade up to your body to get your heart pumping faster.

His face is no longer human. Majin DT is a true demon so when you look into his eyes you will see piercing red lights and when you kiss him you will feel rough, textured lips.

I’m surprised by how many better-quality images of DMC2’s Devil Triggers I found. I assumed, after looking at the DMC1 options, that DMC2 would be the hardest since it is generally the least liked in the series. It also helped that in this game you stay in the demon form so I could see pics/videos of them just standing, turning, and walking.

DMC2 Dante had an interesting dichotomy in that one Devil Trigger is the most human-looking of original cannon DTs (especially in the face) while his other DT is one of the least human-like DTs. It honestly a cool design choice (assuming they did it on purpose) to have Dante’s normal DT be human-like but when he gets desperate he loses his humanity and becomes more demonic.

DMC3 Dante

Though Dante’s Devil Trigger appearance does change depending on the weapon he is wielding, his power is not dependent on them so he can trigger without touching a weapon. So no awkward strapping of weapons to the body to have some fun in demon mode, though the variations may be some trouble.

All of his DTs create a glowing aura with a rippling, sparking energy so there is no way for you to shyly veil your body in the darkness. He will always be able to see your beautiful body, just how he likes it.

All forms have some sort of cranial tusk-like crest. The basic/Rebellion DT has the crest curled open so going in for kisses is possible. On the other end of the spectrum, Nevan DT’s face is almost completely covered by the crests like a helmet, so you are locked out of face touches. However, in all other forms the head guards make it hard to hold his face and kiss him but it also protects you from being bit by his pointy teeth unless you purposely stick something in there like your fingers, toes, tongue, or…

The crest is also solid, so no hair to play with but some of them make good handlebars.

His arms and wings are covered in scales, and with his muscles underneath it gives a similar sensation to touching a snake.

His legs have a smoother texture so feel more slick to the touch when they wrap around you, though some of his DTs have spikes on the back so be careful.

His chest has a rib design and texture so running your hands over it and having it pressed against you gives a unique, uneven feeling.

His eyes are a sharp golden glow that don’t blink, and his lips are always twisted upward into a smile so, if you face each other, there is an odd mix of excited enthusiasm and an intense watching aura present.

Clawed hands again, though with all the sharp points with these DTs, surviving a night without being left with red marks everywhere is but a dream. Also, Beowulf's gauntlets will get in the way, though the greaves can grab things so that can be used for retrieval or interesting positions.

The Rebellion and Nevan have wings that can either fold down, giving the illusion of him wearing his red trench coat, or be open. However, unlike most winged creatures, his wings start at his lower back so instead of them blocking out the world around you as they wrap around your shoulders and head, these wings will wrap around your hips and pull you closer.

Cerberus DT also has wings, though they are more so just protrusions that don’t move, so all they do is get in the way if he tries to lay down or you want to take him from behind.

The combination of the cranial crests, coat illusion, and glove-like hands, it never feels quite like you are touching him directly. There is always a feeling of separation. Although, with how talkative and energetic Dante is, hopped up on a relatively new feeling of power and primal urges, this is compensated for.

This fucker. I was dreading this because of him. Every other character and every other Dante in this series has 1-2 DTs per game, EXCEPT DMC3 Dante. He has five. Fuckin’ FIVE! Like its honestly really cool that his design and abilities change depending on his weapon, but in this specific circumstance it makes things so much more tedious. I could have gone into separate descriptions for each like in the other characters with multiple DTs but there are just too many to do that. I already have 15 to do, I don’t want the extra work.

Also, something I noticed while staring at DMC3 Dante’s DT for so long, in my personal opinion, with no intention of offending anyone… he got a goofy face.

He looks like he is constantly on the brink of doing an evil little gremlin laugh.

DMC3&4 Vergil

Vergil has a base Devil Trigger and then an altered one for the brief time he wielded Beowulf.

His layers of scales, plates, and leathery skin give the illusion of clothing, even more so than Dante’s. Vergil’s layers fold and bend over each other to not only mimic his coat and vest under it but also cufflinks and a high collar. A collar so high that it goes halfway up his cheeks. They flow and bend though so sliding your hands under them is very much possible.

The sheath for his Yamato, or whatever sword he is wielding at the moment, is part of his left arm. And this isn’t simply the metal/wooden sheath fused to him, no. This sheath is made of his own leathery skin and scales. Even if he takes the weapon out of it, it is hard, long, warm, and frankly gets in the way when lovemaking. Although he does have nerves in it, so it is possibly another shaft and hole to stimulate.

Vergil has a cranial crest that sits on the top of his head, meaning it is up and out of the way. Although the shape is not really suited for grabbing, it can be used as a panel to turn his head away or towards you.

In his Beowulf DT, his coat, or the illusion of his coat, is shortened into a crop top length and instead, he has wings that are sadly too thin to actually fly with or even drape over you in a blanketing effect. However, they are flexible and flowing so you can use them a bit like leashes to either yank him away or pull him closer, though more from the core of his body than his neck. That is, if you catch him off guard as his strength is superior and he does not like being at anyone’s mercy.

His crest has sharpened making them more dangerous but better to grab while still having the panel effect to twist his head.

His chest scales have also hardened and become more defined in comparison to his basic DT, giving a rib effect. They don’t distend much but when you press your hand against his chest, or it is pressed up against yours then it becomes more apparent.

He has thick gauntlets now so more delicate caresses are harder but grabbing you is just as easy, if not easier as it is harder for you to escape his hold when you can’t claw at his hands.

In this form Vergil creates a distorting, sparking aura that obscures your view of him and can give you sharp little zaps if you aren’t careful. Although Vergil has had a lot more training in this form and so can control this aura better, giving you both a clearer view of each other. However, it also means that Vergil can consciously give you little shocks when you, in his view, misbehave and don’t listen.

Vergil technically has three DTs in DMC3 but one of them is just Nelo Angelo who has how own section.

As for combining DMC3 and DMC4 Vergil, I don’t know what you want me to do. It’s the same. It’s literally the same. At least between DMC4 and DMC5, Dante’s DT had some differences to point out and there was a whole new DT to talk about. But there is nothing for DMC4. I couldn’t even really explore how differently Vergil can control his DT since it is implied that DMC3 and Vergil’s appearance in Fortuna happened at roughly the same time. So I am sorry for the cop-out but this is what I got.

DMC4 Nero

Nero can’t really control his demonic powers yet, which can be seen in a few ways.

First off, instead of shifting his body the energy manifests as blue phantom flames and glowing red eyes, giving him a feral or rabid look, and a demonic blue astral figure manifests and infects his mind.

This figure is large, demonic, and comes out when he asserts energy. So when he is thrusting into you or does something like grab your hair suddenly, the figure may just appear. If you are an exhibitionist this may be great for you. If you get uncomfortable being watched then Nero will have to do some training before he can take you like this.

It also does not simply hover behind or above Nero. It can also encompass his torso, so in the middle of an intimate moment you may just open your eyes to find that the face above you is different than before.

It does not speak to you, but Nero can hear it and it is determined to gain more power. And one of many ways to gain and assert power is for Nero to dominate you during sex. So, with Nero being more aggressive in DT, be ready for some rougher treatment. He loves you and would never intentionally harm you, but you may have to point out when your legs are about to give out or that the bites he is leaving all over you are bleeding a bit.

Another thing to keep in mind is that Nero does not have full control over when he goes into his DT. If he is high on adrenalin, from joy or anger, or you tease him just a bit too much, he will most likely trigger and pin you to whatever surface is nearby.

It doesn’t matter if you are alone at home, out in the forest, or on some side street, you may just find yourself with your face pressed against a cold surface with his human hand holding your hair while his Devil Bringer is already ripping your clothes to ribbons and his distorted voice growling in your ear about how badly he needs to fill you up and mark you as his.

Another non-traditional DT, wooo~…

The whole part about the astral figure having its own thoughts to some extent may be totally wrong, but I got the impression that the voice that Nero hears demanding “give me more power” is it. My headcannon is that it is his more animalistic demonic nature that has been repressed manifesting as a separate entity as Nero can’t handle it until DMC5. Then again, in one of the pachinko games (weird topic I know) the figure takes on the form of Vergil and seems to teach Nero a move so IDK what the fuck is going on with it.

Credo

Though he would deny it being a ‘Devil’ Trigger, Credo does obtain the ability to harness supernatural power to change his form into something no longer human.

This transformation is a lot softer than others, consisting of smoother lines, rounded points, and lots of feathers.

He has soft white feathers along most of his body, giving you something to really sink your hands and face into. There are exceptionally thick plumes around his thighs, so when you sit on his lap its like sitting on a soft feather comforter.

His tail is also covered with feathers, though has a bare underside showing off the muscles in it. It is more like a cat tail than anything, not having the conscious ability to grab things but unconsciously draping over you when pleased.

Thankfully it doesn’t whip around when excited, so when you take him from behind it will either wrap around your waist or drape over your shoulder.

The feathers of his singular wing are separated into three sections, offering three tactile pleasures to experience. A soft upper part, a muscular lower part, and slick blade-shaped feathers with smooth edges.

Though the feathers do not cover the crotch, they line either side so no sensory slapping sounds of skin hitting skin, but also no painful jabs of hipbones so there are pros and cons.

Speaking of the crotch, he has a chastity belt-looking protective plating that opened up like a little double door.

The plume on his head can get in the way a bit when you go in for kisses, but there is no structure to it so you can just push it aside.

There is, sadly, a rather big elephant in the room that will impede your loving making, at least until you figure out how to work with it or around it. In this form, one of Credo’s arms is attached to a large shield. It is 2/3s his body height, solid as steel, and a constant. His other arm does end in a hand with rounded fingers that can hold and caress you. His other though, will be in the way. Though it does offer good cover if either of you want to sneak in a tantalizing touch in public (not that Credo would ever condone such a thing but he hasn’t pushed you away either) and it offers a surprisingly comforting and secure nesting spot for when you are settling down after. And with how he can fly, even with only one wing, it can be like a little basket to carry you around in.

Atop his head are two sets of horns, one that creates an incomplete loop which makes a great handle and another set that points backwards quite a ways and has a layer of feathers on top. The latter set is long enough that even if you are average human height, compared to Credo who is 6’4”ish and grows a few inches when transforming, you can easily grab one and use it to yank his head up and back while you slam into him from behind.

Another oddity not often seen is how the claws on his toes and heels stick straight up. It may take some ingenuity to use them but there is potential there, especially those who have a particular liking to feet.

Unfortunately, the human-looking face he has is a façade, nothing but a solid mask. Like a sculpture of the gods, it is hard and unmoving. The golden hairs making up his beard are like strands of golden thread, his red eyes do not blink, and his lips stay curved in the slightest of a closed-mouth smile, even when he speaks. It truly gives the feeling of an angle taking on a more conceivable form for you so it may bestow upon you a gift. Though the ‘gift’ in this case is rather sinful.

This is one of those things that is not actually labelled as a Devil Trigger but could be argued as one.

One thing that people may not agree with me on is the idea that Credo’s shield in DT is part of his body and I admit, it is kind of unclear. I argue it is because we never see him not with it (unlike his sword and spear which he can throw and drop) and his in-game module does not have a left hand, his arm just melds into the back of the shield (see pic if it works).

After the fight, Nero gets an item (as he does after every boss fight) that is stated to be Credo’s shield. However, the Aegis Shield (what the item is officially called) does not look like Credo’s shield and when we see Credo later, he still has his shield. And, unlike how in other post-boss battle cutscenes we see Nero holding the ripped off item and it disappears as he absorbs it’s power, Nero grabs Credo’s shield, absorbs power, then throws the shield and Credo aside rather than ripping it off.

DMC4 Dante

Dante has two Devil Triggers, though one can’t be held for more than a minute so it is more for brief moments of passion or something to spice up the already spicy moment.

Dante’s DT here gives the illusion of a more human appearance.

The colouring and positioning of his scales and plates mimicking his red trench coat, gloves, chaps, and boots. He has lips and a nose, and there are white layers on his head and chin that look like his hair at a glance. However, the heat radiating off of him and the reptilian-like textures always remind you of the demonic nature of the thing currently spreading your legs.

His eyes are also a dead giveaway as there is nothing human about them.

The glowing spot on his chest that looks like a hole with cracks spreading out from it is a sensitive spot for him. Run your fingers along it, kiss it, or lick it and you can feel the vibration of his pleased growls and purrs.

He has more faux coattails this time, 4 to be exact, they are a lot more flexible and flowing than those before so moving them to take him from behind is easy.

Though he does get a bit faster, Dante’s DT offers much more strength this time around so be prepared to not walk the next day.

In this DT you don’t just have to watch out for his clawed hands, but also around his chin so the usual playful scratchy sensation of his stubble is now hard, and potentially painful, spikes.

He has spikes that start on his chest and go up past his shoulders. These are okay handlebars, though only work for leading his torso rather than his head. They can also get in the way when trying to go down on you or face sitting, but if you guys take the time to slot your legs between his face and the spikes, then no matter how much you squirm and jerk, you can’t escape his ravenous tongue.

His foot claws are longer now, unlocking the potential of Dante hanging upside-down down for some spider-man kisses or standing 69ing.

Also, first of Dante’s DTs to have a bulge so that means there is something to grind on for a bit for foreplay. And who knows, maybe the sudden appearance of a bulge means he has more packing down there this time.

Dante’s Dreadnaught DT does not last that long, a minute or two max, and he has to build up power and anger to even trigger it.

When he does pull it off though, there is an intense darkness about him in this form. Not just visually as his whole body is veiled in a deep black shadow-like fog with only the ripples of power along his spikes and helmet-like guard offering colour and light. But there is also a foreboding darkness with how his movement is slowed.

When he approaches you, he doesn’t run, he walks as his power is weighing him down. Yet his steps are silent, as if he isn’t touching the ground. When he touches you, it is cold and has an airy feeling, like little puffs of smoke are brushing against your skin. He is invulnerable in this state so he never truly feels anything like this. He can’t feel your touch or your warmth. He has to focus to register your attempt to push and pull him. He can’t even clearly see you, at least not in detail.

This all creates a feeling of separation, detachment you could say. Yet it also has a mystique and dread, as if an omnipotent supernatural being had chosen you to pursue.

I have honestly never heard of Dreadnaught DT before doing research for this. It isn't even listed on the DMC Fandom Wiki Devil Trigger page! I only found out about it because I was watching { DANTE }‘s videos of showing off Dante’s DTs to see their in-game models and movement and it is featured there. There isn't that much info on it online aside from people talking about its lack of use and the fandom wiki has a single tiny paragraph about it on the Royal Guard page.

Reboot Dante

For Dante to go into Devil Trigger he has to have his mother's amulet and be in Limbo, or the worlds have to be merged by now, so there is a dissociative aspect to making love here and like this. The world isn’t quite right here, and neither is Dante when he is triggered.

When he triggers, every living being except for himself is lifted into the air as if gravity had been turned off. You become floaty and dazed, your mind and body slowing down until Dante grabs you and pulls you back to land. The fog in your brain never fully disappears but things become clearer as his mouth aggressively kisses and bites at any open skin he can get to and his hands start clawing at your clothes.

If you touch the ground and focus you can find gravity again. But if Dante keeps you elevated and keeps your mind scrambled with pleasure then you are left in anti-gravity, at the mercy of Dante who can easily flip you around and lift you. It also means that his grip on you is all the stronger as he is responsible for holding you in place.

The colours of the already distorted world distort further, draining into white and black and all the shades in between. Even his dark hair bleaches into white during this time. The only splashes of colour are on Dante himself through his clothes and eyes, making it so you always look at him.

Though his body remains human, his eyes turn from pale blue, to the point they could be called grey, to a striking black and red, which match his more aggressive, demonic nature in this form.

When Devil Triggered, Dante is tapping into his demonic half and the longer he stays in it the more humanity escapes him. If your foreplay takes too long or by the time you reach your peak he may be too far gone to hear or care about your need for a break.

Thankfully Kat has created a spray that can knock Dante out of his DT if you need it.

But if you choose not to use it and let Dante’s DT run its course, Dante’s sense of concern for your exhaustion and boundries slip away as he loses himself to demonic urges of claiming and, if he has even the slightest interest in starting a family while in the right mind, breeding you.

It doesn’t matter if you’re in tears, if you’re twitching from overstimulation, or if you have gone limp in exhaustion, Dante needs to do this. To fill you, to mark you, to get rid of this burning sensation in his body and quench his hunger.

Advance warning (or post warning depending on if I reorganize these); any person without an actual demon form will usually have shorter parts since the majority of the other parts are about explaining how touching them would work when their body is so different. Without a different body shape, I am left to focus on something unique about the DT. In this case, I focused on how blinded Dante gets when in DT. In the game, we see how he is so blinded by betrayal and pain that he almost kills Vergil. So I tried to translate that tunnel vision of intense reaction to emotions into sexual desire. I think it came across well, though I feel that this might just inch into possible non-con with how aggressive and primal they become. I know some people aren't into that so I want to write it in a way that gives you an out if you want while leaving the possibility open if you are into that.

Reboot Vergil

Vergil has been training with his demonic power for a long time and chooses to focus the power outside of himself, so he is not as animalistic when DTing as others.

Even visually he can choose not to change, but if you want the pale skin, glowing eyes, and veiny look he can certainly do that for you.

The only visual change that he might let slip when in the heat of the moment are the flecks of demonic energy that hover around him and fly off in wild directions with more intense movement.

His DT consists of him creating a doppelganger that can work in tandem with him or act on its own. Meaning you have two Vergil’s to work with.

Two voices telling you how good you look and feel, and how he couldn’t focus on work when all he could think about was you.

Two sets of lips and teeth to kiss and mark every part of your body.

Two sets of hands sliding your clothes off and leading you into position.

Two tongues lapping at you and preparing you.

And two dicks searching to slide into you and be wrapped in your warmth.

The doppelganger does pose some differences though. The most obvious being that visually he is not consistently there, like a body you can get glimpses of through a thick mist.

He can also change colour if that does anything for you.

The doppelganger can also choose when it is corporeal and incorporeal, so even if you have clothes on or are wrapped up in a blanket, he can move through it and touch your skin directly anyway.

The doppelganger can also act as a surrogate. So while Vergil is busy with a meeting, his attention may be split as half of his mind is focusing on controlling his double as it takes you in the next room over. Call it prep for when the meeting finishes and Vergil can take over or join the fun.

This was another one where there is no physical change into a different body so I have to work with what I’ve got, which is not much.

DMC5 Nero

Nero has finally unlocked his full DT transformation and he can even control it better than before, meaning your intimacy can be more controlled and sensual. Unless you want him to be a wild beast because he would happily oblige.

His DT is more on the human side, with a navel, abs, pecks, and a mostly human-shaped face with warm lips that actually mold to yours rather than are stiff and just follow along like many other DTs.

His butt in DT is like a human’s rather than covered in scales or plating, meaning it can be grabbed, can jiggle and tense, and can be smacked with that satisfying sharp sound ringing out, though it is usually drowned out by the sounds that slip from his lips when you do land a good hit on his rear end.

His eyes are lizard-like and glow, making them more piercing. The kind that you can see track your movements from across the room like a hunter waiting for its prey.

His hair grows exponentially, going a third down his back. It is silky smooth to the touch, tough enough for you to yank on, and thick enough to block out the light when Nero hovers above you and his hair drapes over you just right.

He does have some spikes and plating, such as his calves which are covered in sharp spikes and his shoulder guards which are made for a particular set of astral hands that are not yours so they are hard to hold. Although if you slot your arms between the shoulder lines just right, they can become wedged and all you can do is grab and claw at Nero’s back while you are held open and helpless for him.

He also has a couple of chin spikes so no chin nuzzling.

The rest of his plating, scales, and skin are smooth so wrapping yourself around him, being wrapped up in him, sitting, straddling, and all the rest can be done comfortably.

The plating around his side leads down his torso, making a sort of happy trail leading your hand to just the right place.

He also has a bulge, though, like a lot of him, it is more human in proportion compared to his dad or uncle. Don’t tell him that though because he will simply have to show you how he is a grower rather than a shower.

His hands are clawed now, claws that are really long but not razor sharp. Perfect for dragging across your skin to give you those pleasant tingles without actually causing harm. Again, unless you want that.

Speaking of claws, he has a second set now… kind of. His wings act more like arms with claws rather than wings. They have the full range of a normal hand, and arguably more, so can grab and lift and pull you around as he desires.

Although these clawed wings are not exclusive to his TD and can come out whenever. They tend to get integrated into all of your intimate moments, whether intentionally or not. And they are even occasionally involved with the lead-up as he keeps his real hands somewhere tame while his Bringer Claws sneak over to and grab something a bit spicier.

He has a pair of horns on his head but they are not really shaped well for holding. They are more like head guards with a feather-like scaling pattern that is quite pleasing to the touch for both of you.

They do make the space a bit tight when you go in for a kiss. Though he likes this as once he has you pinned down and brings his face nice and close, there is no escaping from his lips for you. As for the rest of your body? Trust me, he will find a way to leave his sharp little teeth marks all over you.

His voice becomes distorted when in DT, making it deeper and more gravely to the point of pretty much having reverb.

Holding his DT does take some effort, so he pants and breaths a bit harder and more often. And with how his voice is affected those sighs and sharp intakes ring out through the room.

I’m surprised with how little I had to say for this one, but I guess that is because his DT is rather tame in regard to representing a demon. Also, a lot of little things I have said have already been said for the other guys. And I am losing steam. I’m almost done though, so close…

V

V was a human, he did not have the same demonic energy as his kin, not from his own being at least.

That doesn’t mean you and he can’t have some demonic fun, he just requires some assistance. If you are up for it, of course.

For the most powerful demonic force V has under his control is mindless, lacking a true will of its own, and does not exactly have a solid form. It is flexible, moldable, one could even say like a thick liquid.

Nightmare, under V’s command, can change its body at will.

It could be like a large drop of warm water gliding around your skin, pinpointing your sensitive areas under your clothes as you try to do something else.

It can be like a thin snake, sliding around your body, squeezing you just enough to make your heart pound.

It can lay thin across your skin like clothing or even closer, contouring perfectly to your body, while heating, vibrating and shifting around.

It can surround you in intertwined and knotted tendrils that poke, prod, slide, writhe, and thrust around you.

Or it can fully encompass you, like you are submerged in water with every bit of your skin coated yet everything is dark, warm, and relentlessly stimulating you.

And all the while V is sitting nearby, watching and controlling the moment carefully.

His primary focus is on you, making sure you are safe and satisfied, occasionally slipping in for a moment to surprise you with a sudden texture shift before disappearing again.

But if you were to call out to him, asking him to join, well he could multitask.

So this is the most different of any of these Devil Triggers to the point that I was debating not putting it in. But I decided, why not. We are already going crazy with these things, why not get some slime/tentacle hentai in here. I still chose to keep it really short though since this may be uncomfortable/a step too far for some people.

DMC5 Dante

Again, Dante has two DTs, with his first one being very similar to the one he used during the Fortuna incident. So a lot of the points mentioned there carry over. There are a couple of new things to mention though.

For one, he has more control over his demonic power now, meaning he can control the heat radiating off him better and, more importantly, his eyes are no longer just glowing orbs of power. Though more reptilian than human, you can see Dante’s eyes, gaze into them, and see how they darken with lust and then shine with love as you cuddle after.

His feet have actually shrunk so, no more upside-down fun, but that is made up for by his wings.

What looks like the tails of his coat can lift and open into a pair of wings that he can fly with or wrap around you. With 2 wings, even with each wing having 2 segments, he can’t quite encompass you like in his Majin form but with the glowing, circular pattern on the inside it offers a visual effect that is hypnotizing to watch. This dazzling visual is enhanced when ripples of sensation and energy surge through Dante causing the lights to flicker and waver.

His wings also have hooks on the top which he can use to hold you, in particular your shoulders, in place so you don’t slide away from him as he slams into you.

Now on to his Sin Devil Trigger.

He does have to stab himself to get into this form which could be a turn-off or turn-on for you. It has happened to him so many times that it does not faze him all that much, though he does let out some deep groans and growls as he feels the rush of power take him over.

This is the farthest from human-like he has looked since his brief time being able to hold Majin form. No nose, eyes back to being simple glowing slits of energy, and not even lips to kiss.

His skin is like rock and if he doesn’t focus, he could burn you with how hot his body becomes.

And there are spikes everywhere. Head, shoulders, arms, chest, legs, nowhere is truly safe. Even his waist, though having a similar thinness and flatness to his Majin DT, has spikes pointed at it so it is a risky idea to slot your legs around them.

But if you can brave the danger and you both are able to keep safety in mind, or not if you like some pain, this will be the most intense night you will ever have. Each thrust takes your breath away and the weight of his body almost makes you feel trapped, a true feeling of being taken by a wild beast.

Add in the fact that the hooks on his wings, of which he has four now, have become more like appendages so they can bend and twist at will, which means he can scoop up and manipulate your body, counting his arms too, in six ways now, making you feel surrounded and at the mercy of this titan.

Also, Sin DT has a bigger bulge, so we all know what that means…

The bulge is even shaped a bit like it and it has a cracked, lit slit separating the protecting scales as if it is so big that it is almost forcing its way out.

Also, his ass is surprisingly round and big, covered in small scales which means you can feel the muscles move under them. But there is a spine-like structure between his cheeks so no hotdogging but gripping and caressing are still on the table.

Some sensitive places are along the glowing spots of his inner forearm and on the glowing inside of his horns. Not the long ones on top of his head, but the ones wrapping around the sides of his head. Because of how rough and hard his skin is, just touching them isn't enough. You have to claw and dig into them. When you do though you get this interesting sound. This crackling, sizzling sound along with his warped, deep growl and snap of his jaw.

It’s the most sensation he can feel in this form while making love, aside from finishing of course. Dante feels so powerful, so invulnerable in this state that when you do it suddenly it's like his brain shuts down for a minute. He twitches and may even crumble down onto you for a second before bouncing back. And though it may be stifled by the distortion, you can also hear him whimper. Quite the contrast from his intimidating form, but this is a power only you are privy to and can exploit out of him.

Unlike most people who joked about/did not consider the Devil Triggers being sexy until the first clear shot of Dante’s Sin DT was of his beautifully sculpted booty, I have always been curious about the weirder, more creative side of fantasy sex, and so have occasionally imagined scenarios like these. I used to shy away from writing/sharing fanfiction ideas about crazier things as I feared the possible onslaught of hate. Now though, I wonder how different the reception for these will be since the immaculate rear ends of DMC5’s DTs are a meme and normalized?

DMC5 Vergil

Vergil’s Devil Trigger has lost practically all of its clothing illusions and is overall less human-like.

He is a lot more ridged and sharp now, with pointed protective scales and plating along his chest, limbs, and head. There is a soft spot, however, right over his stomach. The scales are smaller and thinner to the point where you can feel his ab muscles flex and contract due to choice or as a reaction to stimulation. Everywhere else though you must take caution.

This caution should also extend to his bulge of all things. The shape is a bit odd as it both curves up and down. The up curve is relatively smooth and if he leans back enough, you could even sit on it while he is standing. The downward curve is where the danger lies.

The protective plating and scales form a dragon head with glowing eyes and everything. Does it move? Probably not, but the little fangs and curved snout of the crotch dragon may just rip into your clothing.

His arm sheathes make a return and is both less and more obstructive. On the positive, they are shorter now and open, acting more as pipes that exude demonic energy that form into blades than a place to store a physical sword. On the other hand, he has them on both forearms now.

Speaking of pipes, his cranial crests have opened and become exhaust pipes for demonic energy that burst forth like blue flames. Vergil does have enough control over his demonic blood to choose when and if he creates these flames and how hot they are. He can actually make them cool to the touch, allowing you to run your hands through them without risk of injury. Even if you are not that interested in them, he likes to have at least a small flame going as the way the light reflects in your eyes makes you even more dazzling than usual.

He has horns and spikes that protect his face but there is enough room for you to slot your head in there for kisses, though he has no lips to kiss with.

He does, however, have a lightly barbed tongue that, with careful control of his demonic energy, he can also choose to make hot or cold as it explores your mouth or drags across your skin.

He has wings that he uses this time, able to fly you around so he may abscond with you to a more private area when the need arises. They have a glowing ripple pattern on the inside that, along with the energy flames of his head and arms, can create quite a flashy light show. Now whether he uses that to entertain or distract you is something for him to decide.

He also has a tail, and quite a long and strong one at that. Unlike most tails, his attaches to his upper back, making it start closer to your head level. This makes capturing you by the shoulders or wrists and lifting you off the ground, suspending you and leaving you helpless in front of him while both his hands are free, easy.

The main length of the tail has large, flat scales that come to softer points, so even if it slithers over you against the grain, it won’t hurt as long as it is going slow.

The end of the tail is barbed, but the actual tip is thin, smooth, and around a foot long. This means it can act as a good replacement, or additional, rod to play with.

And with the fact that Vergil can create a doppelganger in the image of his demon form while in his human form, well you can have the best of both worlds at the same time.

Now, some people may think that me not expanding on Vergil’s doppelganger ability is a waste, but all of that detail had to be used for Reboot Vergil because that is all Vergil’s DT is in that game. I guess I could copy and paste a handful of points to this section but that would be a waste and cheap. Besides, this might encourage those who skip parts to go back and actually read Reboot Vergil’s part, lol.

Sparda

Sparda is very comfortable in his demon form, more so than his human form, so he knows exactly how to use it.

He has a lot of protruding bits that mimic armour. For example, he has plating that acts as shoulder guards and scaling on his legs that go up to his hips. It gives ‘a man in uniform’ type of vibe but it can get in the way.

The biggest hinderance is the protective ring around his chest that comes to a point in the front. Chest to chest contact just won’t happen. It isn’t even big enough for you to sit in for easier eating out. The only possible positive is its ability to capture liquids, so if you are into puddles of various things you have that going for you.

At least his knee guard-like protrusions, the ones on his legs, and the ones on his shoulders can help you hang on. Whether it be planting your feet on his knee guards to get a bit higher, using his leg guards for hooking your legs around his surprisingly thin waist, or having your legs sit between his shoulder guards and head for the aforementioned easier sitting for licking.

Speaking of his legs though, they, and his arms, have this interesting ripple texture that is flat enough to his body that they don’t cause discomfort but make a pleasing ticking sound when you drag your nails across them.

He has spikes on the tops (closest to the elbow) of his forearms, so fisting can only go so far.

His horns go out to the side and curve downward so they stay out of the way for kisses and, though thick at the base, thin out at the tips so you can grasp them. One function that Sparda had never considered before though is how, when facing away from you, you can hook your arms under his horns and rear his head up.

His fingers are clawed but surprisingly not his toes. Instead, his feet are hoofed with the split like a goat. Not much utility during sex but the sound they make when he walks around is a surprisingly soft yet satisfying ‘clop’.

His lips are upturned, unlike humans, so he does not quite smile and looks as if he is frowning, or scowling with how his head armour shapes his eyes. It may take some time for you to get the more subtle signs signalling his true feelings. Or, if you train him right, you can weaponize your concern of not being able to read his face into making him be more vocal during lovemaking.

His wings are bug-like, having a harder protective shell and 4 sheer wings that shimmer in the light. When he flaps them they beat quickly, creating a decent amount of wind which can be used to either manipulate temperature, for comfort or excitement, and to make the parts of you already wet tingle as the chilly breeze hits them.

So a couple of interesting notes about this one. First off, would you count this as a Devil Trigger? It’s not really clear if Sparda’s demon form is his natural state and he just chooses to have a human form to fit in better with humans or if his human looking form is equally his natural state and he just switches form depending on the situation. The only beings we have seen that take on a drastically different look when DTing are demon/human crossbreeds, which Sparda is not, and Lucia who (spoilers) is an artificial demon created by Arius made to look human so she, and others like her, can act as his bodyguards in the human world without drawing suspicion. (spoiler end). So jury is out on that one.

Second point which causes some problems when making this is the fact that the details for Sparda’s demon form are vague. We knew the general idea but because most of our looks at Sparda are through different characters channeling his power, the DT changes to fit that character. For example, when Vergil DTs into Sparda’s form he still has the skin sheath thing on his arm, which Sparda definitely didn’t have. The only time, as far as I know, that we have seen Sparda’s demon form in a main game, the REAL Sparda, is in the opening of DMC1 but that is obscured. I did the best I could, but it may not be accurate.

[yandere-sins]

Hi! I just currently discovered your works and I love it! Can you do a story where a serial killer (any fictional character you want, as long as it's not real people) who has gotten married to the y/n's mom but he's so obsessed with his new step-daughter the first time they met. The ending's up to you.

Hey! Thank you so much for reading my stories and requesting ♥ Took me some time to think of something, and I won't do a specific character, but I hope you enjoy it regardless!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

A long time ago, he chose to go down this path.

The decision had to be made; any waver in his resolve would have resulted in him getting caught and locked up for life. Sometimes, it was nice to be with the humans that would end up dead; sometimes, it was merely business. There were some pleasures to take from these gullible idiots. Money, sex, opportunities.

Businesswomen, housewives, lonely singles, and, if he had to, men just as much. They only sought the warmth of a lover, someone who truly understood them. And why would he not accept their gratitude and gifts for so little work as rubbing their back and telling them how special they were? It made them feel better most of the time and him richer, as their gratitude almost always ended in gifts.

And in their contentment, they didn't see the knife that was about to sink into their back as soon as they weren't useful to him anymore.

As soon as their money ran out, the gifts died down, and they started to become suspicious of him; he'd make sure to skip town after burying his latest lover in a ditch. He never met their friends, never saw what the life of his victims was, and especially: he didn't love them.

Oftentimes, he wondered, late at night, after yet another kill, what it was like to be loved and to love. His victims always looked so happy and content, hanging off his arm and whispering the magic words to him at night. What he did wasn't right, but why did it matter when he never got caught? As long as he could live in the lap of luxury that he could never achieve through honest work, he didn't really need much else.

But he was getting old.

Too old to sugar-baby his way through life, at least, too much on par in terms of age now with his victims. It physically hurt him to have to be extra careful in the future when killing random strangers. It would never give him the satisfaction or the looks of betrayal that left him all hot and bothered. But now was the last time he could find someone willing to finance his life, and giving up his prolific murder spree was better than spending the rest of his damnation in a dirty, old motel room with nothing to do.

Thus, his way of life ended. A serial killer turned houseman and loverboy to a very successful CEO and mother. Thanks to his charms, the wedding went through much faster than expected, and soon enough, with a credit card linked to her bank account and well-situated in the luxury home of his now-wife, everything could have stayed like this for a long, long time.

Until you showed up.

You were a blessing and a curse in the form of an adult stepchild. It was weird meeting the family of his victim for the first time. But the moment he laid eyes on you, his mouth began to water, pupils blown wide to spy every inch of deliciousness that you swept through the front door to his home. And despite spikes of murderous desires making his body shake uncontrollably, even more prevalent was the twisting and churning of his heart as it beat viciously against his ribs, blood rushing through his whole body and especially between his legs.

All evening long, he couldn't stop smiling at you. He sat across from you like a silly little teenage boy, nodding and listening to everything you told your mom, words dripping off your lips like honey that he wished to lick up. However, he merely did the next best thing, offering to take care of the dishes so he could lick your plate clean and steal your cutlery to enjoy later. He sat with you long into the night on the couch as you told him about yourself; you two had never met before since the wedding was such a rushed affair, and you were the trust fund child sent to an international college for your studies. There was so much to catch up on and get acquainted with.

If only he had met you sooner.

The time together was short, so he suggested all kinds of family vacations, telling his wife it was totally okay if she couldn't make it, and he'd spend time with you and bond. All was in his favor, and every second spent with you was the happiest of his life. For years, he thought that only riches and luxuries could satisfy him—but not anymore.

He had to have you.

No matter what he had to do, fate had already been decided. There was simply no way to not be with you. Slipping into your bed at night and touching you as much as possible just wasn't enough. Stealing your underwear and imagining you on your knees while he used the fabric on himself didn't quell his urges completely. Not even when he imagined you while pleasing his wife was enough, and neither was smelling you every day and pressing up to you innocently in the kitchen or hanging out with you. You going back to another country to continue your studies? Impossible. It would have killed him.

And then, the painfully put aside urges arose. The ones that screamed for blood and gore, torture, and the satisfaction of witnessing someone's last breath. He had already established himself in your life, and you liked him enough that were you to lose someone dear to you... would you run to him?

The question was just a hypothesis, but one that had him rock hard and twitching as he stared at the ceiling at night, feeling his wife—your mother—in his arm, sighing contently. What was her testament like? Would there be enough to live happily ever after with you? Would you accept your stepdad as more than just a superficial family member? Would you let him hold you? Kiss you? Lick you? Make you scream and sob?

Would you allow him to drag you into hell with him, even though he'd make it seem like heaven?

It had always been his way of doing things. Pretend to be someone perfect, pleasant, and loveable, when really, he was this cruel, pathetic monster. But a long time, he chose to go down this path of embracing the beast, and sitting up in his bed, he remembered still holding onto the table knife you used on the first day you returned home. It would be awful, downright gruesome, to be killed by her own daughter's knife, wouldn't it? Your mom would feel so betrayed by being stabbed in the middle of the night; it would be heart-wrenching and devastating.

Absolutely exhilarating.

Why change something that had always worked for him?

By tomorrow morning, you would be his.

[princessbrunette]

thinking ab their pretty little gf w a not so stellar home life comin back to the chateau in tears, tryin to explain what happened but she's simply just a blubbering mess. the duology of jayj who's ready to give your old man a taste of his medicine vs daddy!john bee who's a little more levelheaded n thinking rationally. saying smth like 'just wanna forget' would have those two jumping to your aid - 🍓

₊˚⊹♡𐙚♡𓆪ֶָ֢

“yup, i’m gonna kill him. murder him in cold blood.”

“you are not going to kill her dad, jj.”

whilst the blonde paces, developing a routine of yanking his cap off his head, running a hand through matted tresses before placing it back on— john b, the more level headed of the two kneels by your side, a gentle hand on your back.

you’d been crying, infact — you cried all the way to the chateau after an explosive spat with your terrifying father. it just didn’t feel fair, how can some people have the privilege of feeling totally safe and welcomed in their own home, by their own family — but you had to suffer? you felt in despair, just wanting everything happening outside of the chateau to stop.

“dude i’m tired of this asshole actin’ like — like he can just mess her around and scare her, look at her john b she’s scared!” jj rages, trying to bring his voice into a whisper-yell despite you being right there, stopping his pacing to direct his anger at the brunette by your side.

“i know, but right now you just need to calm it down. i doubt she wants you to go all john wick on her dad. sit down.” your face is in your hands as you weep, so you miss the way john b’s eyes widen in warning to jj, a silent message for him to quit acting out. the blonde licks his lips, shaking his head feeling like he was totally justified, but he does as he says regardless, lowering himself to sit at your other side.

“how ya holding up, princess?” he finally speaks, scratching the back of your head like a puppy. you remove your clammy hands from your face, staring down at them once they hang in your lap.

“s’just not fair.” you rasp, and you feel john b nodding at your side. you daren’t look at him, his large concerned puppy dog eyes sure to set off your waterworks once again so you look at jj instead, almost looking for solidarity. if anyone understood your home life situation, it was him.

his brows are all creased up sorrowfully and he presses his lips together, thumbing the freshest tear that dares to race down your cheek. you feel john b rest his chin on your shoulder, wanting you to feel his presence even when you didn’t face him.

“what can we do?” his warm voice rumbles right in your ear.

at first, you don’t know — and that look of hopelessness in your eyes almost cracks jj’s heart in two. he knew from experience how shitty it felt— but seeing it from the third person perspective was almost worse. he would take a million beatings from his dad if it meant no one was to ever lay a hand or throw a venomous word in your direction. “anything, babydoll.” he reiterates.

as fucked up as it is, having two male figures at your side— two who you’d like to think held a comfortable amount of authority over you, a small slither of the hole that was left in your heart from your daddy issues was filled with a warm honey-like feeling. maybe your emotions were all fucked up and out of whack, or maybe you just really appreciated the comfort — because you felt that warmth spread lower at the way they coddled you.

“i just wanna forget. wanna forget it all happened.” you whisper, and at first they don’t get it. well, they do— but not in the way you mean. john b’s hand creeps up to massage at the back of your neck, trying to relax you as he nods, frowning as he tries to piece together what he can do. always the fixer.

“okay, we can do that. what… specifically do you—”

“i need you.” you turn to look at him now, faces close, breath mingling. “i need you both to… make me forget. just don’t wanna think.” your whisper holds a tinge of an oncoming mewl to it and their faces melt in understanding.

“oh, baby.” john b coo’s, catching on and you feel yourself physically already starting to melt at the tone.

“that mean what i think it means?” jj’s breath is at your neck, fingers sliding up your arm to the strap of your tank top. slowly, carefully.

“please jus’ make me feel better.” you slur like the effects of a drug are finally kicking in, the two boys seeming to close in on you more by the minute.

“alright baby. daddies gonna help, okay? gonna make it feel better.” john b cups your cheek and you wring weakly at his wrist, pulling his palm to your wet mouth where you press kisses to the warm coarse skin, a silent plea to follow through.

jj’s mouth follows his touch next, a kiss on the junction between your neck and shoulder, wisps of blonde hair sticking out the front of his cap tickling your cheekbone. “i should’a known that’s what you were after, you want that head all empty don’t you mama?”

like that, you’re putty in their hands.

₊˚⊹♡𐙚♡𓆪ֶָ֢

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 15 - Noncon

Ghost x Reader - 4.6k (on ao3)

summary: You find yourself cornered in a Maze of Mirrors. (Reader POV)

cw: noncon everything, face fucking, pussy slapping, degradation, kinda a wedgie? like a front wedgie? is that a thing?, orgasm denial

note: if you like this (or hate it but like the concept) read Halloween Haunt by Harley Laroux <3 her erotica is top tier

You’ve always loved Halloween - always been the kid with the scariest costume in class, always had the house decorated with uncomfortably realistic decorations. When your sorority sisters dressed up as black cats and sexy witches, you spent hours painting the most realistic zombie makeup you could. (Your sisters complained for months that you ruined the pictures, but the frat boys had all thought your makeup was far more interesting than theirs. God, you do not miss college.)

Regardless, you’ve always been known to love any and everything scary. There’s something about the thrill of a scare - the creeping horror as you start to realize what’s coming, the ultimate reveal - that always gets you a little squirmy in your seat. Your first crush was Skeet Ulrich in Scream - specifically the scene where he’s covered in blood, licking his fingers. 

You get all those ooey-gooey good scared feelings as your friend drags you through the decently crowded fairgrounds. The actual fair - the one that comes yearly, that no one ever calls anything but the fair - had left only two weeks ago, so this travelling fair had set things up in mostly the same arrangement and, you suspect, to trick certain people into thinking they were the same company.

You’ve already forgotten what your friend said the event was called. She hadn’t needed to give many details to convince you - you heard travelling circus, horror themed, interactive workers, and you were in. The branding isn’t very strong anyways, the only place the name was displayed was the entrance booth, and none of the workers seem to wear any sort of logo, so you don’t feel too forgetful for letting it slip your memory so easily.

You’re not very impressed with the fear factor so far. You hadn’t done too much makeup (hadn’t wanted to risk being mistaken for a cast member) but since it’s the night before Halloween you’ve got a half-done costume on - a clown. Just some white face paint, black lips, and overdrawn triangles around the eyes, a little smudged to make it look like you’ve been chasing someone down and working up a sweat. Your hoodie and tennis skirt look a bit out of place, but you’d wanted to be comfortable since you hoped you’d be spending your night running from actors.

But even a face full of makeup feels like it might’ve been too much effort for this place. Most of the costumes look like they’re from Party City at best - some of them even look very lazily hand-made - and none of the workers seem particularly interested in scaring people. Still, the crowd is easily amused and even a wave or a feint towards a customer has shrieks ringing in the air every few minutes.

You sigh a little disapointedly as you and your friend linger on the edge of the fairgrounds, off to the side and in the dark so you don’t have to deal with the crowd. She pulls out a cigarette and offers you her light.

“I’m sorry,” she says, lighting the stick between your teeth when you lean forward. “I really thought it would be scarier than this. Some of the posters…” she exagetates a shiver. “I thought they’d at least have better costumes.”

You eye a man in a werewolf mask across the pathway, pissing into the dirt. He’s got a flannel and jeans on, and the mask is a little bit crumpled like he pulled it out of a Walmart bin this morning. You’d bet money the flannel was just a happy coincidence he noticed when he showed up for work.

“Yeah,” you sigh, blowing out a lungful of smoke and watching the actor try not to get his dick stuck in his zipper. “Not really your fault, though, these things always look scarier in the ads. Wanna get out of here soon?”

You pass the cigarette to her. “In a bit,” she replies. “I want to try and find some food first. You hungry?”

You shake your head with a grunt. “I wouldn’t trust anything cooked here, honestly. Might just pick up something on the way back.”

She passes you the cigarette for one last breath. “Well I’m too hungry for that. You good on your own for a bit?”

You crouch down a moment to stub out the cigarette, leaving the butt in the gravel. “Yeah, sure. Might see if these fun houses have anything worth seeing in them.”

“You should!” She smiles over her shoulder at you as she starts off to a more well-lit section of the fair. “You never know, maybe they stick the real scares in there!”

You give her a final wave and shout, “Here’s hoping!” at her back as she leaves. 

You linger outside for a little longer, scanning the few structures nearby to decide which one you want to waste a few tickets on.

There’s a Freak Show, but you already know you’d be horribly disappointed if you went in there, something labeled a “House of Horrors” that you’re sure is as much a scam as the freak show, and a few games that have cheap prizes lined up above them.

Across from you, with no lights around it and just one attendant - slumped over, hopefully sleeping - at the front, is a House of Mirrors. Figuring it’s the least likely to be a waste of time (and knowing the kid won’t wake up to charge you), you head over to the building.

The closer you get the more you worry about if he’s asleep or dead, but his snores rattle the little tickets resting on his desk so you figure he’s just a slacker. It’s almost too easy to get by him with all your tickets safe in your pocket. There’s no one else around the darkened corner of the fairgrounds, but you’re quite sure no one would bother snitching on you this late at night. All the parents with little kids left hours ago, leaving mostly teenagers and adults of varying ages left to wander the park.

There’s music playing from speakers that you can’t see, an old clown-themed song that sounds like it’s playing on a scratched up DVD. You’re pleasantly surprised as you make your way through the dusty lobby and into the main section of the building, creatively labeled MAZE OF MIRRORS.

Their branding could definitely use some work, but you’ll give them points for ambience - the lights are turned so low that it’s nearly too dark to see, making all of the mirrors even more difficult to spot. You find yourself a little spooked as you start to make your way through the maze, grinning to yourself.

It’s a shockingly difficult maze, you quickly discover. The music is so loud in some spots that you can hardly hear your thoughts, and so faint in others that you think it might be turned off. The maze itself is a series of either tight, tiny hallways or large open rooms. Whoever designed it clearly knew how to take advantage of the space they were given, the maze feels ten times bigger than it looked on the outside as you wander through.

You know the trick to mazes - keep one hand on the right wall and eventually you’ll find your way out - but it’s fun to just wander around the place, so you let yourself get stuck wandering in circles. You’re glad your friend isn’t here to see how many times you manage to walk into a mirror fully confident that it’s not there, only to whack yourself in the face. For how low maintenance the rest of the fair is, you’re surprised that the hall of mirrors is what they focus their upkeep on.

You’ve been in the maze for about five minutes when you see him.

He scares the shit out of you at first. You spot him behind you in a mirror - one you’d just walked into, which is the only reason you can see well enough to notice him - standing at the entrance to the hallway you’d turned down. He’s clad in all black, except for the skull mask over his face. You think he’s just something taped onto the wall with the way that he blends in, but then that mask titls to the side and you’re struck with the bone-deep knowledge that you’re being watched.

“Shit!” You shout when it first registers that he’s not a piece of paper, one hand coming up to clasp at your erratically beating heart while the other steadies you against the mirror. He doesn’t move past tilting his head a bit further, and after a moment you relax.

You don’t turn around, but you study him a bit in the mirror. It’s too dark to see much more than the outline of his body, but he’s big. He looks like he’s wearing a long sleeved t-shirt and jeans with the mask, and he must be wearing gloves to cover his hands since you can’t see them.

You huff out a laugh as you let both of your hands fall to your sides.

“You got me good,” you call, glancing over your shoulder. You almost jump again - he’s closer than you’d realized, but too far away for you to touch. “I didn’t even see you follow me in here.”

He doens’t say anything. You turn around more fully, leaning back against the mirror and crossing your arms across your chest.

“You gonna start chasin’ me now?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow. You’re playing up the sass, but it’s always fun to mess with theme park employees.

The man takes a few steps forward, heavy boots thudding against the cheap wood flooring. He really is an intimidating bastard, far scarier than any of the other actors you’d seen so far.

“Well?” You call out, standing up from your spot. “Do I get a head start?”

Still no answer. He rolls his head on his neck, then steps to the side and walks into one of the connecting hallways without sparing you a glance. When you step closer to see which direction he’s chosen, he’s already gone.

You huff another laugh to yourself, shaking out your limbs and bouncing a few times on your toes.

Now that you know there’s someone in here with you, the thrill of a scare is starting to get you worked up. You hope they don’t have any rules against physical contact between actors and customers, just imagining the skeleton man tackling you has shivers running up your spine.

You don’t bother to be any quieter as you keep wandering through the maze. You bump into just as many mirrors, continue to question the speaker placement, and keep an eye out for any skeleton masks lingering behind you.

You see him a few more times, always behind you, always just out of reach. He gets progressively closer everytime you spot him. You're reminded of the Weeping Angels from Doctor Who - every time you look away, he gets closer.

It’s fun. More fun than you’ve had all night.

He finally catches up to you what you guess is about half an hour later. Youre just turning another corner, thinking about how it’s been a bit since you’ve seen your shadow, when a hand plants itself firmly between your shoulder blades and shoves.

You’re sent to the ground with a cry, palms scraping against the floor. There’s a gloved hand collaring your throat before you can think to do much more than catch your breath, hauling you up and holding you in the air.

Your eyes fly to the mirror less than a foot away, staring wide-eyed at the image reflected.

There’s you, in your messy clown makeup and hoodie, being held up by a giant swath of black behind you. He’s not ducking down at all, his feet planted on either side of your splayed legs as he towers above you. The way you’re being held up, your head doesn’t even reach his belt buckle. The contrast of your shock and discomfort to his plastic mask has your thighs clenching, just a bit.

He doesn’t duck lower, just tilts his head in that now-familiar way of his and pulls you a little further up. His hand is absolutely massive, thumb resting beneath one ear and his fingers resting below the other. You choke a bit as you’re lifted, knees scrambling beneath you.

This close to the mirror you can see his eyes - bright blue, surrounded by black paint, and staring back into yours.

He lowers his head, his free hand tugging your hair until you lean back and look straight up. The hand on your neck shifts to hold you in that position, his other hand lifting to pull the black part of his mask up.

He’s white, with thin lips and a broad jaw. You pant as you stare up at him, incapable of processing what’s going on.

His jaw works for a moment, lips twitching, and before you realize what he’s about to do you feel something wet splatter against your cheek.

He spit on you. Who the fuck does that? Being tackled and manhandled is one thing but spitting? You recoil reflixivley, lips curling as you reach up to try and wipe disgusting liquid off.

“What the fuck-” You start, but before you can even finish your sentence you’re yanked forward by your neck.

You yelp as you’re thrown from between his thighs, hips twisted awkwardly and head slamming back against the mirror. You cry out at the sharp pain at the back of your skull, but before you can think of doing anything there’s a hand around your neck again, a body crouched in front of you - over you - keeping you from doing anything.

You gape up at the actor, panting and surprised. None of the other employees even got close to touching customers - half of them didn’t even look like they wanted to be there - what the hell is this guy’s problem? Does he just take his job way too seriously

He’s far too close to you now, your nose nearly brushing where his shoulder be, his boots on either side of your thighs, his chest pressed so close that you can’t do anything with your hands.

The hand not around your neck comes up to your cheeks, grabbing them both in one hand and pinching until your lips pucker up. You squirm, letting out a noise of surprise and pain when his thumb and pointer finger dig in between your teeth to force your mouth open. One eye squeezes shut at the ache, but there’s nowhere for you to go with him caging you in.

This time when he spits, it lands right in the little hole he’s made for himself. With how close he is, you see the way his lips twitch up in the corners.

You try your best to get out from under him, hands pushing at his shoulders and legs desperately kicking. But he’s like a statute above you, hard as stone and immoveable. 

He leans so close that his lips nearly brush yours, meeting your glare with a spark of amusement. 

“Like how it tastes?” He purrs, chest rumbling against yours.

You make a noise somewhere between offended and annoyed, trying to throw yourself every which way for even an inch of freedom. All you manage is a tighter grip on your jaw and neck, leaving you wincing.

“Lots more where that came from,” he promises.

It’s insultingly easy for him to manhandle you, and you curse all the times you swore to yourself you’d finally start taking self-defense classes. You can barely manage a single blow, and when your hands or feet do make contact he doesn’t even flinch.

There’s absolutely nothing you can do as you’re wrestled to the floor. He gets you flat on your back then kneels over your head, his knees so close that you worry he’ll squeeze them together and pop your head like a berry.

He doesn’t give you a chance to sit up, planting one heavy hand in the center of your chest and leaning his weight forward, knocking the air out of you. You finally regain the ability to speak when his other hand moves to his belt, undoing it right above your face.

“What are you-? No, no, get the hell off me!” You shout, desperately pushing at his arm and trying to get enough leverage with your feet to squirm away. “Don’t you fucking dare- help! Somebody help!”

Your screams go ignored, blending right in with that stupid clown music and bouncing off the mirrors just to come straight back to your ears. Your noise doesn’t deter him at all, and he’s got his belt off and jeans yanked down despite your resistance. 

“No, no, no, don’t- stop, please, you can’t-” you gasp, eyes flying wide as you find yourself staring up at his cock above you. 

He doesn’t give you any warning, just grabs your jaw, holds it open, and sheathes himself down your throat.

Your limbs spasm, every instinct in your body screamin to get away as he slips right past your gag reflex. You’re terrified that you’ll vomit and choke on his cock, the fear dousing you in icy cold and leaving you limp for a minute. All you can think about is breathing around the intrusion in your throat, finding some way not to suffocate and die on a sticky mirror maze floor.

“Finally,” you hear him grunt from above you. He grabs both of your wrists, easily ignoring your weak pulls and tying them together with his belt. “Somethin’ to shut you up.”

You try and make a sound around his cock, yanking your hands away and panicking even more when you feel how firmly tied they are. You make another sound, insitively trying to cry out even with something stuffed in your mouth.

He moans above you, lowering himself to his elbows over your body. “Yeah, just like that,” he pants. “Mouth feel’s fuckin’ heavenly.”

You go silent, determined not to give this piece of shit anything he wants. Tears pour down your temples and across the tops of your ears, and your throat burns.

His hips move slowly against your face, grinding himself as deep as he can get before pulling out just a few inches and sliding back in. He’s got an unfairly large cock, and there’s already an ache developing in your jaw from just seconds held so wide open.

His foreskin catches on your teeth when he pulls the whole way out just to fuck back in, and you’re sharply reminded of the fact that you have teeth.

When his cock bottoms out, his balls resting against your eyes, you bite down, praying it’s enough to break skin.

It’s not. Instead of blood pouring into your mouth and a screaming man falling off of you, you hear the man snarl, pulling his dick out entirely and slamming it back down your throat so harshly that it feels almost like he’s punched you in the face.

“No fucking teeth,” he snaps above you, and you feel his weight shift back onto his knees, then his hands grab at your thighs and throw them open. He flips your skirt up and before you can think to bite down again lands a stinging slap against the gusset of your underwear.

You nearly scream around his cock, hips snapping closed to try and smother the pain. He only growls another sound, using one hand to hold you open and the other to rain down a series of progressively harder smacks.

Your breath hitches as you sob, hardly able to get any air in around his thrusts as he starts them back up again. Every time he buries himself to the hilt inside of you, he lands another hit to your poor pussy. You can’t help but wail around him.

“There it is,” he moans, the sound loud and unrestrained. “God you feel good screamin’ around my cock. Good fuckin’ hole, huh?”

He punctuates the last four words with slaps, leaving his length inside your throat and going back to that horrible grinding against your face. You go silent again, using all of your willpower to keep from screaming. What little thought is left in your head is used to figure out how best to breathe through your nose without choking on snot.

He doesn’t smack you again, but you feel his fingers trace around the edges of your panties. Your hips wiggle against your will, just trying to get away from the violation. One of your legs is pinned to the floor by the thigh, but the other oscillates between going limp and trying to get leverage and force your body up.

His fingers hook around the gusset of your underwear, but before you can even worry about him touching you there, he pulls them up towards your body.

He does it with such force that you’re left squealing, hips flying off the ground to try and lessen the pressure against your clit. His hand pulls so far up that you feel it resting nearly at your belly button. You can’t help the little gasping, gagging noises as he starts to thrust in and out of your mouth again.

You hear - you feel - him laugh, swaying his hand from left to right. Your hips try to follow naturally, just desperate to alleviate any of the pressure you can.

“Like a little puppet,” he murmurs, yanking even further up, moaning when you scream.

He lets them go only a few thrusts later, big hand smoothing the fabric down over your cunt. You can feel that it’s stretched out, a little looser around the meat of your pussy, and the thought only makes you cry harder.

But you go silent again. It’s the one thing left in your control - even pinned to the floor, hands tied, legs useless, mouth stuff, you can decide how much noise you make.

He doesn’t like that. He groans a little when you go quiet again, tapping your thigh sharply.

“No, come on, make your little noises again. Feels real nice on my cock.”

This time you’re ready for the smack against your vulva, and you remain silent. You stay silent for the next three too.

His hips work with a little more force again, balls smacking against your face and leaving you to squeeze your eyes shut. After the next slap his hand doesn’t lift again, just rubs over your vulva slowly.

It’s pure luck on his part that he happens to rub over your clit. It’s a pure lack of luck on your part that you moan at the sudden and unexpected pleasure, completely taken off guard.

He stills above you, then slowly repeats the movement. You’re helpless to the little whimpers coming from your throat, and you curse the fact that you’ve always been loud during sex. He zeros in on exactly how to rub your clit unreasonably quickly, fingers sure through the fabric of your underwear.

“That what you need?” He rumbles a laugh above you. “Pain won’t make you noisy, but pleasure will? I can work with that.”

Before you can even begin to question what that means, your underwear are tucked to the side, and there’s a face buried in your pussy.

He doesn’t bother taking any time to explore or try and learn your body, just dives tongue-first to your clit. His technique of lick first, figure out what feels good later unfortunately works on you, and you’re left writhing beneath him, eyes rolled back in pleasure and moans muffled.

He groans agaisnt you, too, lips vibrating against your clit in a horrible and delicious way. “There you go.” You can barely hear him over the sounds of your own choking, especially with his own voice muffled in your folds. “That feels good, keep going.”

You don’t want to, but the magic he works against your clit leaves you no choice. You can’t help the hitched cries spilling from your lips, even if they make you cry all that much harder as you hear them.

He doesn’t take much longer to come, and you’re torn between resenting the fact that it’s your sounds that get him off and being glad that he does so he can get off of you.

He comes with a loud groan, sent right into your cunt and dragging you far too close to an edge you do not want to see, and sends thick ropes right down your throat. It’s almost a kindness that you can’t taste him, only have to swallow as quickly as possible so you don’t choke. The movements of your throat only draw out his orgasm though, and you’re locked in a terrible cycle for what feels like an eternity.

He doesn’t get you off. You’re not sure if you’re thankful or not.

You gasp when he finally pulls out of your throat, taking uninhibited breaths for the first time in far too many minutes. You can’t shut your jaw from the pain, but you also can’t kick your legs when he kneels up more fully.

He’s silent as he takes back his belt, and no matter how much you beg your arms to move, they remain still on your stomach. He shifts off of you, and you whine wordlessly when he grabs a handful of your hair, wiping his flaccid cock off in it.

Still, you don’t move.

He stands and redoes his belt silently, the jingle loud even with the clown music still playing. You stare up at him, and he holds eye contact with you. For some reason, you can’t look away.

He crouches down again before he leaves, and you can’t help but flinch away. He doesn’t touch you sexually again, though, only reaches out and pushes your jaw closed with two firm fingers.

You hate that he still has the mask pulled up, because it means you can see his smirk.

“That was fun. Maybe we’ll do it again sometime.”

He’s gone before you manage to understand what he’s said, and the tears start all over again when you do.

—

It takes you a while to scrape yourself off of the floor. You only catch sight of yourself in one mirror before you stare at the ground.

Your makeup is ruined, teartracks running down your temples and both cheeks. There are smudges along your jaw where his hands grabbed. Your lips are swollen and red. It could not be more obvious what’s just happened to you.

You plant one hand on the wall to your right, and keep your eyes firmly planted on your sneakers as you leave the maze. You feel almost detached from yourself, unable to truly understand what happened, what it means.

The throbbing between your thighs is distracting. You worry you might chafe from how soaked your panties are.

It doesn’t take long to find your friend once you finally make it out. She takes one look at you and laughs, teases you about having fun without her. You can’t bring yourself to correct her, and she picks up on your tone quickly, dropping the subject.

The two of you walk silently to your car. You hate it, but you can’t help but scan every actor. Thankfully - or maybe not thankfully? You don’t know anymore - none of them are even close to as big as the masked man in the hall of mirrors was.

You tuck your hands beneath your armpits as you finally make it to the parking lot, walking as quickly as you can get away with without running. Your limbs go a little looser as you get to your car, mind relaxing as it recognizes how close you are to safety. 

You freeze when you finally make it to the driver’s side door, lungs going still and heart beating so quickly you worry it’ll pound right out of your chest.

There, sitting in the driver’s seat, is a skeleton mask sewed onto a balaclava.

[circe69]

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 - 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 “𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭” 𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

make out sesh, suggestiveness, just a short blurb ⋆˙⟡♡

you had just returned from a tedious mission, one that had sweat dripping from your temples, along with a streak of blood running down your lips.

ghost was walking in a few paces behind you, greeting all the rest of your troops in place of you since he figured you'd be too tired to talk.

"how was it?" soap asked, and ghost responded while resting a large hand on the curve of your waist, "fine, bug did well." he signaled to you by softly squeezing your flesh. after the silent congratulations and goodnights from the rest of your team, you started to make you way to your room.

"i'll walk with you." ghost said, you didn't want to counter, knowing he'd stealthily follow you regardless.

once you'd arrived to the metal door of your room, you turned around to face him, with your back to the cold slate.

"did you mean what you said," you paused while fidgeting with your fingers, "about me doing well?"

ghost looked at you, with his eyes plastered onto yours and arms crossed over his chest. he didn't say anything for a few seconds, maybe to think about his answer, or maybe just to let the silence sober him before continuing.

"of course i did." he took a step closer to you, which caused you to stop staring at the floor, and look up at him. he was so close you could smell him, hear his shallow breathing and almost feel it down your neck. he furthered to convince you more, "i never lie, you know that."

you scoffed, knowing good and well lying was exactly what he was trained to do, what he spent his whole life mastering.

"thanks, for that," you started to turn around and open the door to your room, "well i'm gonna hit the hay, really tired from everyt-"

ghost's lips crashed into yours, his tight grasp around your forearm and shutting the door behind you with the other hand, now caging you in.

his movements were slow, but harsh. almost angry that he hadn't indulged himself in you earlier. as he grabbed the back of your neck and tilted your head just right so he could lick the inside of your cheek, you could feel his metal belt buckle against your bare stomach.

your hips couldn't help but roll right against his, the intoxicating contact drawing out a low growl from ghost's throat. he stopped kissing you for a second after biting down on your bottom lip to tear his leather gloves off, throwing them onto the floor below the two of you.

"gotta feel you in full," he breathed against your mouth, dragging a calloused hand up your hips and underneath the hem of your tank top. your tongue met with his, and you shyly felt your way around his mouth, behind his teeth, getting rougher and rougher with every lick.

"you always do well." he whispered as he pulled away, staring at all the bruises he sucked into existence and the low-lidded look in your eyes. "always?" you hummed, wanting him to say more, just keep doing whatever he wanted to you.

"always."

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Waiter! More ghoul smut please!

(But fr though, I love ur fics. I was wondering if you had any ideas for the ghoul and somebody with a major primal-play kink?)

I have a longer piece in the works for this, but I thought I'd give a general flavor of what I think he'd be like in the meantime:

He's never heard of primal play before you bring up the idea to him, but he's very keen to try it out...after a long talk about exactly what you're open to him doing. He's very intrigued (and turned on) by the idea, but he's nervous enough about his strength when you two initially start having sex, when things are fairly vanilla and safe. The thought of being able to use that strength to fuck you is incredibly appealing, but he knows he'd never forgive himself if he accidentally hurt you, or even did something to frighten you or make you see him as even more of a monster than he's already been in front of you. But fortunately the two of you have much better communication between you than he's had with anyone in lifetimes. Make no mistake; the talk about boundaries is long, but he's turned on almost the entire time and fucks you six ways to Sunday afterwards.

Obviously the rope is going to be involved, but only as much as he needs to use it to get his hands on you. He isn't going to take the time to tie you up after he's caught you unless you make him, and that's more of a feat of strength than a feat of stubbornness. Physically, if he can just hold you down and fuck you, he will, and eagerly. Once he's caught you, he's rearing to breed you. If you manage to delay him enough (try to keep the shit-eating grin off your face while you fight against him, hmm?), he'll absolutely hogtie you, but it won't be comfortable.

You may get a bit scratched up during your entanglement, but frankly the smell of blood is only gonna get him more worked up. Don't count on him expressing much or any concern about it unless you're willing to safe word and safe word loudly. If you have any open wounds or scrapes that're within reach while he's fucking you, he's gonna be licking every single drop of blood away. Of course, he'll fuss over you and help mend your hurts. But, you know, once he's finished with you.

He's...bitey when he's at his most primal, but it's not really a product of his history of cannibalism. Before he was a ghoul, he was a biter, loving the feel of his partner's flesh in his mouth, against his tongue, the look of being able to visibly mark someone as your own. That aspect of his desires hasn't changed by the time you meet him, but it has evolved. He isn't afraid to use his teeth to hold you in place, to bruise you with them if you fight against him. That said: he won't break the skin, at least not on purpose. He's far too afraid of the cannibalistic side of him choosing that moment to take over for even a split second and taking an actual bite out of you. Even moreso he fears how much he would like it. That isn't a line he's willing to cross easily, or on a whim. If he does accidentally break the skin, it makes him cum almost instantly, but it also somewhat ruins the mood for him, making him anxious about the lack of self-control.

He definitely isn't impartial to wrestling his way in the back door, as well, if that's something you're interested in, but he'll only agree to do anal play of any kind if he knows you're properly prepared (especially since spit and precum are the only lube you're getting out in the field). You're certainly interested, but therein lies the problem: the preparation often gets him worked up, which gets you worked up, and suddenly he's bending you over and fucking you until you can't walk straight before you've even had a chance to playfully run away.

Regardless of which orifice he fights his way into, he's finishing inside your pussy. You can grouse at him about the UTI risk when he tries to go from back to front, but his only response will be to cum all over you and then shove it inside with his fingers, instead. You find that you really can't find an angle to protest this from.

[atsadi-shenanigans]

What Shall We Become 42 - Discovered

The rogue has an epiphany.

Her blood blasts him like a flare of sunshine. An opened window, light pouring in and engulfing him. His skin tingles, on the edge of burn but it’s so warm, so amazing. He groans and clutches her to him. Legs spread, her arms around his shoulders, burying him in the scent of her.

He gulps her down. Her skin, her touch, her slick still between his fingers. She was so tight, so hot. His cock was already hard but now it aches. The thought of entering her, still wet from his work…

He’s her first. No one else has touched her thus, tasted her thus, felt her writhing and gasping, the way she tried to bight back her delightful moans, but he tore them loose regardless.

All the pain and terror of the last few days burns apart in the golden light filling her blood. It’s not even blood, anymore, but ambrosia, life made liquid filling his mouth and gullet, seeping into his own veins and making his skin shiver.

“Darling,” he whines between one draw and the next.

She’s so godsdamned soft. His fingers sink into her plush thighs. She molds beautifully around him, as he expected. His cock strains against his too-tight trousers, and he can’t break away long enough to free it, so he has to settle for grinding desperately against her thigh like an awkward boy.

Her hands clutch at his shoulders. He wants her to bury them in his hair. Rake her nails over his scalp. Whisper into his ears and then caress the tips and oh, how her mouth would feel—

Her heart races. From passion, yes. But her blood begins to thin. He’s taking too much.

Astarion forces himself off. Lifts his head, licking at his lips, unwilling to let a single droplet be wasted. She sways in his hold, and he snatches up the closest bag and retrieves a health potion.

“Drink this,” he says.

She does so without complaint. Soft and compliant in the glow of her pleasure (that he gave her) (also from the blood loss). Makes a face and shakes her head. When he pulls her back down, the marks on her neck have closed, leaving her skin smeared in blood. He should ask. It would be the polite thing to ask.

He licks her instead. He’s imagined this. Following the trail of her blood. Lapping it as she squirms in his hold. In that fantasy, he buried inside her, bucking into her as she squeezes his cock and gasps.

But he’s her first. She said hands only, and so he shoves that thought down and savors every lap and lick. Cleans the mess he made of her neck. Takes a few nibbles and leaves a handful of bruises just to see how it looks, and she is divine. So prettily marked by his touch. He shifts down to complete the task and make sure he tastes every drop of blood clinging to the top of her breast.

And when he’s done, he lingers. Breathing against her, just so he can smell her skin, her blood, her lingering arousal.

Until she finally shifts. “Um…”

He both adores and despises that word. Half the time, it heralds something hilarious. But right now, it’s ruining the bliss of her blood flowing through his body.

“Do,” she tries again. She plucks at the ruined frills of his shirt collar. “I mean, I haven’t, uh. But do you want help? Y’know, with…?”

Ah. She’s noticed how hard he is. And is offering?

Oh, to train her hands on his cock. Teach her how to hold him, how to stroke him, how to squeeze him. Her hot hands on him, drawing forth his pleasure the way he rarely gets to experience.

He manages what he knows is a pained smile.

“I believe we ought to save that for another time,” he says. “Your blood was quite delicious.”

Warm and…and happy in him. He doesn’t really remember what it was to be drunk, but he imagines it’s this.

(So that’s why that bastard had them all—)

But he’s in his tent, with his glorious leader still draped over his lap. Her cheeks (and throat and chest) are stained in a light flush.

“You sure?” she says. “I, I don’t mind.”

The adventurous virgin. What an utter delight.

He runs the backs of his fingers along her cheek. She turns into his touch unconsciously, he thinks.

She’s his. She could be his.

“It’s been a very long day, darling. We both need rest.”

And she—he feels a twinge of a scandalous gasp twinge in him—looks pointedly to his lap and arches an eyebrow at him.

Gods. Of all the people he’s stumbled into since that beach, out of all their band of idiots, she truly is his favorite.

He pulls her down to hover under her lips. “We’ll save that for a later time, eh?”

And gives her a quick peck. That turns into several. That turns to him burying his fingers in her hair (oh dear, he’s left a mess there) and licks into her mouth. He knows she must taste her own blood. But she doesn’t protest. She knows what he is and she not only neglects to stake him, she treats him like…like an asset. Like a valuable one.

She feeds him. Protects him. Jokes with him and tells him stories and grabs his hand to flee. She curls into his lap in his tent, her blood smeared on her lips, and lets him kiss her.

His chest is too tight.

He breaks it. Lays his forehead to her chin as if he needs to catch his breath (he actually stops breathing entirely) (why is his chest so tight, the blood should have fixed any injury).

Then he nudges her. Eases her off. She hisses and shudders. Shakes her feet. Catches his puzzlement and says, “Pins and needles.”

Which makes no sense. Until he remembers living bodies and living blood flow.

She recovers and ducks out to relieve herself (“I told you, not uneducated and people gotta pee afterwards”). He surveys the tent. The air thick with her scent and his. Her pack and armor laid against the canvas wall. The bedroll he’s been carrying ready to be laid out.

Which she does once she returns, smelling now of lake water. Her hair drips—she noticed his little lapse in situational awareness earlier, and instead of shouting or striking, she simply washes herself. Then she lays herself out. Looks up as he sits there.

“You gonna sleep, too? Or, what’s it, reverie?”

He smiles. “One of us ought to keep watch. You need more rest than I do, especially after that invigorating mean I’ve just had.”

She can’t hide her face fast enough to disguise the blush. She was riding his fingers over his lap, offered to stroke him off, and now blushes at the slightest wordplay.

Odd, delightful creature.

She falls into a slumber quickly, for all her talk. Poor thing must be thoroughly wrung out. Soon enough, those soft snores puff her lips.

Once he’s sure she’ll not awaken, he unfolds himself and steps out.

His hands shake as he nearly rips the buttons off his trousers. They’re so tight and he aches so badly. Sighs in sheer relief as he frees his cock. Ponders a moment, and then lowers himself to his knees and takes himself in hand.

He hasn’t done this in…oh, some time. Most nights end with his mark’s satiety. Even when he does get hard—a body is a body, after all, and sometimes when he’s feeling especially wretched, he’ll pick one that might, in some small capacity, attend to him. Give him the smallest moment of bliss.

But most nights he goes without. Most nights, this doesn’t bother him. Most nights, he’d claw off his own skin if he could and be done with the whole affair.

Not with her blood on his tongue. Her slick on his hand. It’s that hand he spits into and wraps around himself. Imagines it even wetter. Stroking himself with her. Circling over the tip and smoothing it down until he glistened with her. Her watching him do it.

“Gods,” he breathes.

Or perhaps not. Perhaps she’s in his lap once again, pressed tight and hiding her face. She’s ashamed of her pleasure. Yet she’s bold enough to make suggestions.

Traces of her blood still linger on his chin, in the creases of his fingers. He sucks those fingers into his mouth. Finds the hint of golden light and pumps himself into his own hand.

He’s had more sex than he can count or even remember. He’s had the blood of thinking creatures, say, enough to count on two hands now? (Do goblins count?) (Perhaps it’s just one hand, after all.)

Never have the two met. He’s thought about it, on his back, rocking in time to the ministrations of the mark atop him, their skin disgustingly damp. Sometimes they’ll press in close and their neck will be right there. In his mind, he opens his jaw and plunges in his teeth as they plunge into his body. A tit for tat.

He’s imagined that nectar—so close, yet utterly forbidden—pouring down his throat as he grabbed that mark, savaged them, tore them open and gorged himself. Would that he could every, single person who put their hands on him.

This, though. This night is another first time. His dear Eleanor gives them out so freely, doesn’t she?

He moans and squeezes himself (he was right to get on his knees; he’d fall to all fours if he didn’t need both hands just now).

Her taste lingers in his mouth. Her enthusiasm, the sharpness of her mind, her own need as he held her and fucked her with his hand. She tastes like the sun. Like life itself.

His abdomen tightens. His relief barrels at him.

She stayed with him. Supported him. Even when she wouldn’t let him give her this. With nothing from him, she stayed. She even urged him to save himself. No one has done that before. No one has ever said those words to him. Not ever. But she did, and now he’s finally able to properly reward her and…and…

He gasps. He’s close.

He imagines her bare. Those breasts swaying heavy as she rides him properly. She’ll still hide her face, but in his imaginings, he pulls her hands aside to watch her brow furrow and mouth fall open. Stares at her as she clenches around him, blood streaming down her breast from his bite (he’ll bite and bite and bite until it covers her in her own, hot blood, and she’ll moan and sigh and grasp him, urging him on, giving him more). Blood will drip off her nipple, and he’ll curl in to suck them both into his mouth and he’ll—

Astarion barely bites back a shout. The tension snaps and surges out. His spend coats his fingers as he works the rest through. That shocks him, but not enough to stop—even when he does manage to present arms, as it were, the rare times he finds his bliss he’s barren. Not enough blood in rats and bugs. But this time, having feasted, he slicks himself thoroughly. And then the thought of her hands, sliding through his spend, the color on her soft hands—

But it’s not. Her hand. No warm, brown skin on him. No dark eyes glinting in triumph and arousal. He’s alone, in a cave on his knees, looking down at the mess he’s made over his pale, cold hand.

He swallows back a sour feeling in his gut. Wants to drop himself (his dead flesh feels disgusting), but then he would only dirty his trousers. Disgusting boy, look what you’ve done. Ever the filthy whore.

He rises. Walks to the water’s edge on heavy feet to clean himself up. At least this water doesn’t stink faintly of the sewers.

He’s done it. He’s seduced her—thoroughly, this time. Just as he planned. He’s used his body as it was meant to be, done the one thing he’s good at. Even now, a month or more away, free from him, and Astarion is still a thing to be used. Even by himself.

This is what he is. What he does. No matter what she might say. No matter what she might give him.

He stands there, a moment, staring out at the lake. Down at his softened cock. Tucks it back into his trousers and buttons himself back up.

He knows, has always known deep down, this is what he is. His body knows it so well it manages to trick him. But no matter. He’s won. He’s used the tools at his disposal to get what he wants, for once. That’s what he needs to focus on. His clever little leader will never turn against him now.

She hasn’t before. This entire time, she’s returned for him. Refused to leave him.

But now it’s ensured. Now he’s safe. He’s her first, and people get sentimental about that sort of thing. He can use that. Will use that.

His feet carry him back to the tent. The cave is always cool, and he doesn’t really notice it until he ducks inside and her living body has turned the inside air warm.

He seats himself nearby. Not touching. She sleeps on. Her face is nuzzled into the bedroll and for a moment, his palm almost feels her cheek, the way she nuzzled into him like she does that bedding.

Would she do that now, were he to lay beside her? Wrap herself around his cold flesh and sigh?

Because she trusts him. Because she likes him. She said that herself—she doesn’t even think of sleeping with someone unless she likes them. She must also believe he likes her back.

Many of his marks believed that very thing. Those who weren’t hunting a mark of their own, who didn’t ask him how much. Some of them genuinely thought he felt for them. Right up until he handed them over. Until the boudoir door opened and he knelt there, naked, as they realized something else was occurring. A rabbit caught in a snare. They would look to him (he never looked at them, not even as he was bedding them if he could help it; not in the face). Turn to him for answers. For help. And he provided neither.

He sits near her, now, fully dressed. One hand on the handle of his knife. Water laps against the shore, echoes off the cavernous walls.

But…she’s his first, too. She let him feed. His first taste of real blood, thinking blood. He’d wanted to make her cry out in pleasure. Wanted it to be his hand and his tongue and…and him doing it. It had felt…nice, the parts he was aware of. It hadn’t hurt him, she’d barely asked for anything, really. Just a hand and some words. He even got to finish himself off afterward (that was the blood; hers does that to him).

Ah. That. That is how he knows it’s a trick. One he’s pulled on himself (he’s done that many times before he learned better, ever the stupid, pathetic boy).

Astarion does not receive good things. Astarion is not a good thing. Not worth it. Doesn’t deserve it. So this cannot be a good thing. That’s not how the world works. This is a transaction. He can give her pleasure now, occasionally stab someone for her benefit, and she’ll come back for him. She’ll rally the others to protect him.

His plan from the start. He took a detour, and while he’s dense and bad at planning, he can eventually be corrected. He’s back on track, now. He’s succeeded.

He looks down at her. Vulnerable. Trusting.

Traces a finger over the edge of her hair to brush it out of her eyes.

She’ll keep trusting him. Especially now. Eventually, those sharp, dark eyes will open and she’ll greet him and possibly smile. And he’s never known a day two. The morning after. Only the night of passion.

What does one do after?

He’ll have to figure that out. Has to keep her invested (he’s got some idea of what gets her going, now; he can work with that).

She wiggles in her sleep. Scoots herself towards him. It seems to settle something in her, being closer. She sighs again and relaxes.

This is a transaction. She’s still a mark, if a long-term one. Because…because…if she wasn’t. What would that even mean? What would that make her? There isn’t anything else. People to be used, and the people who use. She can’t be anything else.

Then the sound of the waves changes. Something moves out there, on the lake. Astarion unsheathes his knives and crouches down to peer out the gap in the tent flap.

Distant heartbeats. Two of them. Only…one isn’t a heart at all, but a whirring, clanking—

“Oi! Over there!”

A familiar voice. Boisterous and strong, even at such a distance. Astarion re-sheathes his knife and ducks out to greet their long-lost band of idiots.