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#for once not tortured. just darlings
okay-babe · 3 months
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Mothering
tags: alastor x fem! reader, suggestive themes, allusions to sex, alastor and reader are married, domestic bliss, Husk and Angel are tortured by your love for each other.
It was a rather quiet morning, one that had become almost typical of the hotel in the quickly passing months, and Angel watched as, like usual, the Radio Demon began to walk swiftly from the stairwell to the front doors.
Although, this time, there was a notable interruption to the sinner's routine.
"Al, wait!"
You called in an almost panicked sounding tone, bounding down the stairs in only your night gown, an object that Angel couldn't quite make out in hand.
Immediately, Alastor halted where he stood, his neck turning before the rest of his body to watch as you rushed over to him, cheeks flushed from your run down to the lobby.
The demon raised a brow at you curiously, but with a marked lack of exasperation that must have come from that store of patience he reserved just for you, and you smiled sheepishly as you held up a small shimmering band.
"You forgot this."
You said, tone almost nervous sounding as you continued your approach in spite of the painfully obvious adoration written all over the Radio Demon's face.
Immediately, Alastor looked down toward his left hand in surprise, his eyes widening ever so slightly at the sight of his barren ring finger before he looked back to you and smiled one of those gentle soft things he once again only seemed to reserve for you.
"Ah, why thank you, my dear."
He all but purred, eyes lighting up as you grew ever closer until he could finally offer his hand to you in the way you so clearly desired.
You grinned happily at the gesture and reached forward with the ring in hand as the sinner spoke up again,
"I couldn't fathom going a day without it."
You blushed at that, eyes diverting swiftly for a moment before they moved almost instinctively back to Alastor, watching his pleased expression as you slid his wedding ring back onto his waiting finger.
You stared at him for a few seconds, as if enthralled by the very vision of him in spite of the fact that you quite literally woke up to the man every morning, until finally you snapped yourself out of it with a slightly embarrassed clearing of your throat.
"Well, I'm quite sure you could manage if you had to."
You said softly, voice slightly higher in pitch than usual as your husband bent down, the already raised left side of his mouth curling upward further in an amused smirk at the sight of your pink cheeks and slightly nervous body language.
He'd had this effect on you in life as well, but it seemed he'd never tire of seeing it, even after so very long.
"Manage, certainly, but I'm not sure I would want to without the reminder of my darling wife back home."
He drawled, his now decorated left hand reaching up to palm your cheek and his eyes scanning you with a chuckle as you all but melted into his touch, always so very receptive to his affections whenever he was willing to offer them.
Suddenly though, your eyes widened, and you broke away with a gasp, your gaze shifting down to Alastor's hands only to find them empty.
"Al, did you remember to grab the organs I prepared for Rosie yesterday evening?"
You asked, immediately causing Angel and Husk over by the bar to flinch in response.
Had it been a surprise that the Radio Demon's wife was a little bit too comfortable with cannibalism? Not nearly as surprising as it was that the overlord had a wife in the first place, but still, it certainly hadn't been anticipated that you would be so handy with a boning knife.
The deer demon standing in front of you let out a soft hum of surprise before he shook his head, straightening back out to his full height with one arm crossed over the other.
"Silly me, it appears I'd nearly forgotten."
He replied, tone colored with amusement as you immediately set off toward the kitchen before the man could even finished, returning shortly thereafter with a rather large container of something your observers would rather not think too hard about.
"Well count yourself lucky I felt up to the chase this morning, beau."
You teased as you set the tub down on an end table nearby so you could approach your husband once more, straightening out his tie and fussing over his hair for a few moments as the demon simply stood still beneath your attentions, smile both amused and contented all at once.
You looked up at him after a few moments, eyes softening slightly at the sight of his expression as your hands moved to brush some invisible lint off his chest.
"You know, it isn't like you to be so forgetful, Al."
You began gently, hands working to smooth out a few barely there wrinkles in the demon's shirt.
"I'm beginning to worry that your age is getting to you."
Your tone was far too teasing to ever be misconstrued as serious as you spoke, stepping away slightly to admire your handiwork only to be stopped by a tug at your wrist as Alastor moved to pull you close once more.
"Is that so?"
He purred, tone still just as amused as before as he flipped your teasing back on you tenfold,
"Well then darling, I suppose I'll have to remind you of just how spry I can be upon my return."
His voice lowered slightly as he said this, and instantly your cheeks felt hot and your eyes widened slightly beneath your husband's heavy gaze.
Desperate to change the subject before your (rather unwelcome) background audience caught on or made any commentary, you quickly cleared your throat again before giving a nervous laugh.
"Sure thing old man, whatever you say."
You said halfheartedly, watching as the Radio Demon's eyes grew darker at your unintentional challenge.
And at that, you were quick to switch topics.
"O-oh!"
You began, eyes roving aimlessly for something else to talk about before they finally fell to the unused coat rack in the corner of the room.
"Are you sure you won't be needing a coat, Al? I'd hate for you to catch a cold..."
You said nervously, hands wringing together as your husband watched you with sheer amusement and something slightly heavier behind his eyes, his mouth opening as if to reply only for him to be cut off by a voice from another part of the room.
"Babe, I love ya and all, but this is gettin' ridiculous!"
Angel cried out in exasperation,
"We're in hell, for cryin' out loud! Yer husband is a demon overlord who owns enough souls to be considered a large business owner! He's not gonna get cold out there!"
You gave another nervous laugh in response to Angel's rambling,
"But-"
"Nu uh, no buts Toots, now say goodbye to ol' tall, dark, and creepy before you start actin' like his motha' again."
Angel interrupted, immediately causing you to let out a huff of indignation, turning around to face your friend where he sat at the bar,
"I am NOT acting like his mother."
You insisted, attitude faltering a bit when you noted the rather amused expression that your comrades were wearing, informing you that you were likely making a slight fool of yourself.
"I-I'm not..."
You trailed off quietly, cheeks warm with embarrassment even as you felt a familiar clawed hand drop down upon your shoulder in a manner that was no doubt meant to be soothing.
Though, the next words out of your husband's mouth, in spite of his actions, most certainly were not.
"Not to worry, cher."
He purred, pulling you back against him gently so you could feel the warmth of his chest upon your back and the curl of his smile against your helix, a sensation which immediately caused you to shiver.
"If they wish to see you as a mother, I will happily oblige."
Your blush deepened at that, eyes widening as you desperately tried to ignore the shocked looks of your peers in favor of trying to focus on keeping your head straight instead as Alastor stepped away once more, the casualness of his attitude a stark contrast to his previous words.
"Oh dear, would you look at the time. I really must be going."
He said, a teasing lilt to his voice that was all too easy to hear coming through as he checked his wrist for a watch he wasn't actually wearing before leaning forward to press an exaggerated kiss to your forehead.
"I'll be seeing you later, darling." He drawled with that trademark grin of his as he approached the door, one clawed hand reaching to pull it open before he finally stepped out.
That is, until a few seconds later, when his head popped back in again.
"Oh, and do keep well hydrated, dear heart! I would hate to endure a repeat of the last time you called my spryness into question."
Alastor looked far too pleased with himself as he spoke for you to even bother attempting to rebuke him, and but a moment later he was gone, off to see Rosie with a well adorned ring finger and a large container of organs in hand.
"WHAT DID HE SAY?!"
Angel cried, still clearly stuck on your husband's mothering comment from earlier as you sighed and approached the bar, an apologetic look on your face as you glanced toward Husk.
"Can I just get a water please?"
You muttered sheepishly, immediately causing the bartender to groan and bury his face in his hand, his disappointment in your immense lack of shame obvious, but truly, what else had he expected?
Had he met your husband?
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winkwonkwankwenk · 3 months
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Alastor Head-cannons (SFW & NSFW)
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SFW
Listened to music a lot with his mother when he was a boy, and occasionally you'll catch him singing. He's still got the voice of an angel despite being a demon.
"Splendid!" "Old friend" His old dialect reminds you he grew up in the 20s- 1920s. You've tried teaching him modern slang but it just doesn't sound right coming from him. His eyebrows furrow when you laugh, "Was what I said funny? Do tell, I'd love a good laugh."
Still brushes his teeth and is intense when it comes to dental hygiene. Don't let the yellow fool you, it's just the new natural color. In general, he's very hygienic. He has a strict shower routine, skin care routine, don't even get him started on his hair routine. Condition, shampoo, rinse, condition again- the list goes on and on. You tried Spa Day with him once, it was more stressful than relaxing.
His hair is naturally curly but he straightens it for a "stronger" look. He thought if he kept his curls he'd be less intimidating, Charlie saw his hair wet once and wouldn't stop trying to pet him.
Will periodically check on Husk and when he can't will send Husk's favorite liquor. He's soulless, not heartless. He does tease Husk on occasion about his friendship with Angel, it's not every day he sees the cat so flustered.
Loves veal. You've walked in on him feasting on Elk and when you backed away he simply raised a brow. "Would you like to join me? There's more than enough to share." He didn't show it, but he was bummed when you politely declined.
Loner but loves company from those he's close with. When he's alone for too long he thinks a little too much on a past he can't erase. Times like this will make him force himself outside to stroll through hell. He's not an imp, he doesn't have to worry about being attacked. You on the other hand? Not so much. When you join him for strolls, he'll keep you beside him and away from the thrashed roads. "Stay close, I'd hate to see you hurt." You think he's oblivious to how buttery smooth his words are at times, little do you know he's been watching every change in your face from your flushed cheeks to your pursed lips. He smirks to himself, knowing he's caught you off guard.
Calls you annoying names when you're grumpy like "Sourpuss". When you glare at him he just flashes that annoying grin.
Owns a lot of other souls besides Husk's and will occasionally sneak up on them just to catch them off guard. He enjoys a good power trip, brings him back to the good ol' days. Kills just don't feel the same now, what a shame.
Not a fan of physical touch. Don't even touch his suit if you're a stranger. He's a bit more lenient with those he considers friends like Rosie and Charlie, and you- but you're a special case. Maybe it's because you asked before doing something as little as fix his bowtie. He didn't know his heart still had that kind of beat, he decided not to dwell on it. "I must be thinking too hard again, I should keep myself busy."
His ears and eyebrows express his actual emotions. He doesn't seem to notice it, but you've caught him writing with his ears down and brows in a U-shape. It's almost like he's pouting, but when you ask his face returns to that empty smile again. "Hm? Oh, yes I'm fine. Just sorting some script troubles for the next broadcast."
He's not used to accepting help, only giving it. When you cheerfully ask beg to help with scripting he can't find a proper way to say no, at least that's what he tells himself. You end up being more of a distraction and he has to push the broadcast back a few days. When you apologize he just smiles wider- you didn't think it could get any wider but it did. "Nothing to apologize for, my Dear. I enjoyed our time together."
Takes his deals seriously as most overlords do. You've witnessed brutal killings, the way his pupils morph when he's torturing a toy. He'll casually wave if he sees you watching. "Enjoy the show, Darling~"
Wakes up at the asscrack of dawn just to be awake. He also wakes everyone in the hotel up with his alarm- which is just a lord recording of himself singing some Jazz song he seems to adore. He won't apologize, but he'll have coffee prepared for everyone.
Doesn't like sweet coffee and is offended when he sips any, glaring at you like you've handed him a cup of shit. "Are you plotting? Why do you make this...Nevermind." He'll be grumpy the rest of the day, voice a low growl and smile a bit sinister.
Likes to Gamble, he's already in hell, what else is there to lose? He makes big bets, the biggest being a tooth from his precious smile. When you tried to warn him about the dealer helping the other player cheat he just winked at you. Before cards could even be shown, both were dead. "I've ruined another good suit" is all he says as if he hadn't just ripped the heads off of two demons.
He used to be dependent on his glasses when he was alive, he was uncomfortable without having them in hell which is why he has the monocle now. He doesn't need it, just makes him feel secure.
His radio voice lags sometimes and he'll simply refuse to talk until it's stable again. You're the only one allowed to taunt him about it without waking up surrounded by acid.
Lets you call him Al, and when Rosie asks him about it his smile closes into a strong squeeze of his lips. He hasn't escaped the teasing from her or anyone else in the Hotel who's noticed. If someone says anything while you're around, they better pray their deal comes with protection. "I suggest you keep your mouth closed." is the only warning given.
Likes strategy games so when you show him modern ones like battleship he's over the moon. He ends up with a board game collection thanks to you since you bring a new one over whenever you're invited to his broadcast station.
"Y/N, Darling, I have a bit of a favor to ask..." and you know you're about to go through hell- well, more of it. His favors always involve hunting someone attempting to break a deal, and most of the hunts are just you tagging along to watch him bloody his hands. At least he looks good in red.
He was quiet when he first met you, now that he's comfortable around you all he does is talk. Eventually he even picks up on your compliments and returns them and then- well, it just sort of happened.
Had no clue how to actually romance. He spent his life fulfilled from killing, not chasing love. After consulting Rosie and Charlie (mistake one, they both teased him shamelessly. It's not every day you see a flustered overlord). He tries pick-up lines but they always come out as jokes, and while your laugh is adorable he can't help but be annoyed. "Surely wooing a woman isn't this difficult, prehaps another method..."
Alastor's love language is gifts but not just materialistic ones. He knows what you like and he makes sure to get you it. You've opened your door to a bloody Alastor cheerfully holding a container of freshly-harvested organs, offering to cook them for you- his way of inviting you over for dinner. He's so excited you can't turn him down, and if you close your eyes you manage to convince yourself you're just eating chicken. He learns how to make your favorite dishes after seeing you forefeed yourself for his sake, and from then on makes them for you when you join him for dinner.
"Do not tell anyone about..." He doesn't know what to call the two of you, the traditional term felt a bit too intense. You know what he means, and although you don't understand it you agree. It's not that he's embarrassed, he knows you'll become a target if others find out too much. He also has a reputation to maintain. Unfortunately, the two of you are painfully obvious.
Adores holding you, especially when he's too busy to give you proper attention. You'll sit in his lap and watch him work, telling him when to take breaks. Sometimes the two of you will read together, his head on your shoulder and nodding when he wants you to turn the page.
Tried to figure out how to kiss you while smiling. You couldn't stop laughing so he gave up and stormed off to sulk. He was expecting you to just sneak up behind him but when you stood on your toes to kiss him, his smile faltered and his face flushed almost as red as his hair. "Y/N, get back here!"
NSFW (Most tame NSFW Head-cannon I've written because he's definetly slow to warm up)
Favorite petnames for you are Honey, Darling, and Sweetness. Sometimes he'll slip up and call you by a petname while around friends or in public. Unlike him, you can't mask your face with a smile and his falters when your friends stare.
He's clingy in public as if staying secret wasn't his idea. He keeps an arm around your waist, fingers intertwined with yours. If someone stares a little too long he'll strike a tentacle at them and they'll run off.
Speaking of the tentacles he seems to sprout, he likes to tease you with them. He'll lightly strike your legs when you're walking to get your attention just to turn away and do something else. He'll sneak up behind you and have a tentacle tilt your chin up so he can kiss you, then quickly leave. He's always in such a hurry, mostly to go peek into his chest and make sure his heart hasn't exploded.
His kisses get bolder as time passes, teeth grazing your lips hesitantly until you pull him closer. Soon he's comfortable enough to slip his tongue in, grip your hair, groan against your lips. These kisses turn into sloppy makeouts that leave your lips kiss swollen and slick between your legs. "We should get back to the group," he says it casually as he licks his lips.
You're needy, he knows, he can practically smell it- he just isn't sure what to do about it. This is something he definitely can't ask Rosie about, so he decides to observed you until he figures out. He didn't think you'd mind him being in your closet or under your bed, listening to you and your toys. You catch him once, face burning as you scramble to cover yourself. "Stay as you are, continue, please- I'm learning quite a bit."
You catch him attempting to file his nails down the next day but they seem to sprout back in seconds. He's irritated, you can tell by the antlers growing on his head. You tell him he could just use his tongue but he insists on doing it exactly how he saw you. You wither under him, hiding your face in a pillow. "You're quite tight, how am I supposed to fit anything when I can barely fit a finger, hm?" He teases, pecking your forehead. He does get curious and decides to have a small taste that leads to him eating you out, tongue buried inside you as he holds your hole open. It must feel good the way you're gripping his hair and antlers, trying to steady yourself as you rock against his face.
You didn't bring up going all the way, you wanted him to initiate it since you weren't sure what exactly his boundaries were. You expected him to bashfully confess his fantasies, instead you heard a knock on your door and then your body thudding against the mattress as he ravaged your mouth. He slams the door closed with a tentacle before ripping away clothes, eyes narrow and focused. His radio voice is gone, his raw desperation showing as he rams into you. "Dammit Darling, I tried to wait...but I've grown impatient. You don't mind, do you?" and when you shake your head no he knows he doesn't have to hold back. Wonderful.
He lets himself get pent up, refusing to let you touch him. At first you worry that you've done something wrong, but he pats your head and says "Y/N, I'll handle it myself." When you look at him with those eyes he can't hide his hunger, and he caves.
Rough? No, he's just passionate. He can't always say how he feels but he knows how to show it. Fingers intertwined with yours, tongues tangled as he stuffs you full. Part of why he lets himself get so pent up is because he loves how it feels releasing it all at once, the way you cry out and clench around him. He doesn't stop until he's fucked you silly, until his voice is static-less.
Rambles when he's close, from "Such a pretty thing, sucking me like this" to incoherent growls and grunts, he's vocal. When he's thrusting into you only his words are gentle, sweet praises like "Good, Good...you can take it~" echoing in your head as he holds it up by your hair.
He likes leaving bitemarks along your body but only where they can be seen. Good luck hiding the one on your wrist, and the one under your chin is exposed whenever you look up. Of course no one dares to mention it, but he gets a kick out of everyone knowing you're his- enemies and reputation be damned.
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thehighladywrites · 2 months
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ACOTAR MEN X READER, BANNING THEM FROM INTIMACY
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☀︎ — summary: you let them know they’re not allowed to touch you in any way, shape or form. How do they react!
☀︎ — warnings: 18+, nsfw, az being a slut as per usual, cassian being yummy, touchy needy fae males, slight dumbification in lucien’s
☀︎ — amara’s note: lucien was my fav one to write omgggg, also i hope u sluts enjoy😈😈😈😈 also enjoy while i work with tutor az👀👀
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RHYSAND
“You’re putting me on a ban? You can’t be serious.”
“Nuh-uh Rhys, you flirted with that girl so have fun by yourself for the unforseeable future.”
Rhysand didn’t actually flirt with anyone, he was being his usual self and the way the girl was leaning towards him made you angry so you just blamed him instead
He gets through the first few days calmly although he is mildy irritated. Especially when Cassian and Azriel tease him about it.
“So no sexy time for you Rhysie, that must suck,” Cassian says as he ties his hair back.
“Well, not really much sucking these days, right?” Azriel snickers, getting ready for the inevitable fight
Rhysand takes out his frustration on them for their smart little comments.
Rhysand has quite a high libido so that man usually fucks you good atleast once a day even when you’re both busy.
“Darling, please forgive me. I will never do it again. Tell me what I can do to earn your forgiveness.”
He begs and begs because he’s going a bit crazy
In the end, it takes him only three days for you to forgive him and lift the ban. The man is charming and seduces you into dropping the ban
The second you drop the ban, he grabs your waist, throws you over his shoulder and winnows to the cabin where he fucks you for a week straight.
“That oughta put that nasty idea out of your head forever” he says, patting your head while smiling at your ruined self. Mascara running, laboured breathing, and a pounding heart is your only answer
Yeah this man wrecks you and you never pull this stunt again…
YUMMM MHE IS SO DELICIOUS 👹👹👹👹
ERIS
“You may not touch me or have sex with me in any way until I say you can.”
He narrows his eyes as he slightly smiles when you announce a ban on all intimate activities for the unforseeable future.
“Is that so?”
You cross your arm on your chest, lifting your chin in defiance.
“Yes, that’s right. Since you want to entertain Nesta Archeron, you may not be in my vicinity.”
You are being waaaaaay too dramatic. He didn’t even spare her a single glance until you pointed to her. Nothing at all happened, I mean the male didn’t even know she was at the ball until you told him.
Nesta walked up and was a bit too close to him and even though Eris moved to your side, giving her an unamused look, you were still irritated
And since you couldn’t take it out on her, you take it out on Eris.
But Eris knows what you’re doing, he knows how extremely dramatic you are being, so he just lets you cool off, let’s you huff and puff around the house
You are a mess. An absolute mess
You find yourself longing for Eris's touch, even just a simple headpat from him would send you into cardiac arrest.
The fact that you lasted an entire week is insane bc you’re both touching each other in some way all the time
When you’re lounging; his head rests on your chest, and you lovingly massage his scalp, running your fingers through his hair. Alternatively, he pulls you closer to his body under a warm blanket, nestled in his neck, while he warms his hands for you, acting as your personal heater.
When you’re in public; he always has a hand on your lower back, waist or you walk hand in hand. You also wrap your hands around his biceps, caressing the arm when you feel tired
When you’re in a meeting; your hands naturally seek each other under the table. Whenever one of you gets heated or irritated, the other soothes them by rubbing their thumb on the back of their hand, offering quiet support.
After a week of torture you finally breakdown in his office, storming in and placing your palms on his wooden desk. He looks up at your curiously, an eyebrow raised.
“Okay, I can’t do this anymore, please touch me, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Eris is just as desperate as you are but he wants to drag this out just a tiny bit more before giving in
“Interesting. You initiated this ban, yet you’re the one who can’t follow through? You were fine without me for a whole week, I think you’ll manage another one.”
Your jaw drops in disbelief. Another week? No, you’d rather die.
“I think not. I will beg if I have to. Touch me, please. I will probably die if I go another week without you.”
He leans back in his chair, puts his arms behind his head as his arms bulge. One of your biggest weaknesses
“Normally, I’d make you beg but I missed you aswell. Come here.”
You damn near cry in relief when you sit in his lap and nestle in his arms. His warm hands rub your back and thighs, making you impossibly more relaxed
“This was one of the dumbest things I have ever done. Never again.” You whine against his neck, kissing it over and over again.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he says, emotional as he press a kiss to your head
AZRIEL
“Okay.”
That is all he says when you tell him your banning him from touching you. Honestly, you thought he’d have a bigger reaction so you start getting second thoughts.
But you thug it out bc you still want to prove a point even though he looks super unbothered
In reality, Azriel is panicking on the inside
Although he knows he can physically withstand sex, it’s the love and intimacy he misses the most
So he does the one thing he knows you won’t resist
He sluts around the house
Okay, he walks around shirtless or with super tight black shirts thst highlight years and years of working out
Azriel knows you’re weak for his muscles and body so flaunting it around is step one of his plan.
Step two of his plan draws him extremely close to you, mere inches away. He leans in as you speak, exploiting yet another weakness.
He wears delicious colognes that make your eyes flutter. He wears chains around his neck and leans over you.
Azriel’s final and ultimate slut move is waking up in the morning, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he speaks. It's all it takes for you to cave in to his charms.
You find yourself the one begging for his touch, unable to resist the longing for his embrace. You babble about never wanting to go so long without feeling his presence again.
CASSIAN
Cassian’s love language is most definitely touch so when you tell him that he is banned from here on out, he freezes.
Like it doesn’t make any sense, he actually can’t grasp the concept.
“What does that even mean? What do you mean I can’t touch you?”
Tha man is flabbergasted
He will follow you around, apologizing for his behavior over and over. You’ve already forgiven him since it was a minor thing but he doesn’t know that
Cassian starts carrying a pillow with him, imagining it is you. He craves touch, and if it's from a damn pillow, he'll gladly take it
He pouts as you try to surpress a smile at his expression. He’ll give you puppy eyes in hopes of you dropping the annoying ban
Eventually, Cassian levels up and becomes extra touchy with the inner circle instead, seeking any physical touch
A confused Azriel gets extra pats on the shoulder, but Cassian's hand lingers, staying put longer than usual, leaving Azriel puzzled by the sudden change in his behavior.
An amused Rhysand receives more hugs, but Cassian's hugs linger, holding him close as if imagining you there for a moment.
Obviously, nothing compares to you, and the whole situation only makes Cassian more irritated.
No sex is just unbearable. Jerking off isn’t fun at all and he can count on one hand how many times he had to use his hands since you got together
After only one and a half day you start to miss his touches and get jealous that your friends is getting his warm touches instead.
You’re also very horny and since you and cassian have a VERY active sex life, it makes a lotta sense. This male usually fucks you 1-2 times everyday, and I mean EVERY day
Seriously not a day goes by without some action, whether it be fingering, bjs, handjobs, nipple play, him eating you out, 69 just anything really
When you finally, after 1,5 excruciating days let him touch you, he smiles and thank the Mother then drags you to your bedroom
Y’all don’t come out for a solid 2-3 business days
Ever since the ban, he is stuck to you like glue fr
LUCIEN
Lucien is very calm for someone who isn’t allowed to touch his mate
“You’re banning me from touching you? That’s really cute,” Lucien remarks casually, a hint of amusement in his tone as he takes a sip of his peppermint tea.
You furrow your brows, pouting. “I'm not joking, Lucien. If you touch me, I'll scream,” you assert firmly, crossing your arms over your chest. With lifted chin and proud gaze, you stand your ground, making your new and temporary boundaries clear.
Lucien chuckles softly. “Yeah? You’ll scream? Love, you scream real nice for me when I touch you anyway, so what's really new?” he teases, getting closer to you.
“I mean, do you really want me to not touch you?” Lucien asks, his voice low as he inches closer and closer until your faces are mere inches apart.
He gets so close, his warmth leaving you breathless. His soft, plump lips barely brush against yours, the touch so light it's almost not there.
“Tell me, my sweet, perfect girl,” he murmurs, his breath mingling with yours, “who put this idea in your head?”
You are barely functioning, your words stuck in your throat as you struggle to come up with a response.
“I know you're too out of it to properly respond to me right now, and it's okay,” Lucien says gently, his tone teasing. “I guess using your brain is a tough task, hm?”
You nodded absentmindedly, distracted by his charming smile
“M'sorry, Lucien,” you mumble, your words breathless and slightly slurred. “It was just a joke. I really want you to touch me,” you admit, your voice trailing off as you become increasingly dumbfounded in his intoxicated presence.
He tsked with mock sympathy. “It's okay, sweetheart,” he said gently, gripping your chin. “Let’s not say things we don’t mean the next time, okay?”
“Okay, I won’t.” you say blushing at the proximity before giving him a sweet sweet kiss on the lips. Lucien pulls you in closer and y’all fuck right there on the kitchen table but damn it was good
Yeah, banning Lucien from intimacy will never work
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🏷️: @thelov3lybookworm @redbleedingrose @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @clairebear08 @rowaelinsdaughter @artists-ally @berryzxx @aroseinvelaris @cupidojenphrodite @jeannineee @daycourtofficial
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rineptune · 2 months
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OMG OmG cockwarming lucifer (like you sit on his cock( and seeing how long he lasts
patience is a virtue.
a/n: yes, just yes
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“my love,” you call out to him sweetly, your tone pulling him into a desperate, helpless trance. “is something wrong? you seem feverish.”
he’s breathless when he came to look at you, struggling against the urge to rut up against you and completely enjoy the warmth that only you provided. “darling— oh, shit,” he whimpers, arms snaked around yours as you adjust your position on his lap.
“you’re— ha.. killing me here.”
“it’s fun to see you worked up,” you answer, guiding the stray strands of his bangs away from his eyes. “cute, even.”
this was absolute torture for him. he wanted, craved—needed you so desperately that you must’ve had a clear idea that what you’re doing to him is completely and utterly cruel. he was the king of hell, and yet here he was, begging to fuck you to chase his release—which he was denied for minutes.
he cannot last that long, you knew.
“patience, my love. i love spending our time together like this,” you smiled, cupping his cheeks with your hands. “did you not know that patience is a virtue, hm?”
“fuck patience,” lucifer whined, clawing at your hips, albeit without the intention to mark you.
at least not yet.
“want to fuck you already, please?”
you feigned to ponder over his request.
“hm, no,” then shifting from your position once again.
“aha— shit, that was mean,” he tells you, eyes closed as he tries his best to listen to your words. “i’m not going to last, yn—“ unknowingly, in the midst of his lust-filled lucidity, he had forgotten to play by your rules.
“o— oh, fuck..! sorry! can’t help it, can’t help it,” lucifer chants, unable to stop himself from thrusting his aching cock in you and cumming embarrassingly quickly, too.
lucifer is anything but patient—at least for the time being.
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dante-mightdie · 3 days
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how bad is it i just want some heartbreaking angst with viking!Simon for him to finally realise his wife is IT for him and how his feelings have developed into love and adoration
sorry this sucks I wrote it on the train home from work 😭
c/w: kidnapping, happy ending
it happens when someone tries to tear your precious family apart. another raid on the village and he’s piled away from the heat of battle by his little wife’s bloodcurdling scream. his heart is pounding when he finds you and you immediately drop to your knees in front of him, sobs ripping their way from your throat
his hands make a home on your elbows, trying to keep you up as your knees just give out in agony,
“our son! they took our baby, simon!”
his blood runs could when he hears this, his hands trembling as his own stand nearly gives out. he cradles your head to his chest, shushing you. he never knew the sounds of pain could make his heart stop in his chest like this
but it’s you. it’s your son. his family. everything that you had both worked so hard to build together. he’ll die before he allows those scavengers to take this from him. he hands you off to price, telling him to look after you before saddling up on his black stallion. he spares you one last look before he sets off,
“I’ll bring him home to us. where he belongs, I promise you that.”
the next few days are torture for you. you refuse to leave your home as the clan try to comfort you. bringing you food and trying to coax you to eat but how can you eat when you have no idea if your husband and son are okay
you sit by the window all day and all night, waiting to see that familiar steed trot back up to the village. it’s the middle of the night when you finally do. the sight of your husband cradling a small bundle to his chest makes you sit up instantly, wiping the tears that had been falling all day
you’re up on your feet instantly, darting out the door before simon can even plant his feet on the ground. when he sees you running towards him, he holds your son out instantly for you to grasp. you hug him to your chest as cries of relief leave your mouth,
“thank you, oh thank you, simon!” you wail, falling against him as he takes you both into his arms. the sight of your reunited family brings tears to everyone’s eyes as simon wastes no time shuffling you and your son back into the house
even once your both settled into bed, your son bathed and changed as he feeds from your chest, the tears don’t stop falling. simon understands, you’re a new mother who had her son snatched from her arms. you’re terrified of losing him again
“it’s okay, love. he’s home with us. where he belongs…” your husband grunts, grasping your chin and placing a kiss to your forehead. affection is still sparse in your marriage but when it happens, it’s all natural
he doesn’t sleep that night. he sits up all night, one arm hugging you to his chest and the other cradling your sleeping newborn. and simon realises that this is what his duty is. not protecting the clan, not being the most fierce warrior but rather, protecting you. his darling with and the precious son that you gifted him
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teddyeyeseddie · 9 months
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Pay Attention To Me
eddie munson x reader
warnings: minors dni, smut, p in v, c*ck warming, unprotected sex, creampie
a/n: I got baked out of my mind and this was born, if I had to write it you have to read it. enjoy babes xx
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It starts out innocent, the want of being close to Eddie burning deep inside you. You’d pull up a chair and sit beside him at his desk, foot hooking with his under the table. 
Then you scooted closer, head laying on his shoulder while he slaved over his campaign. You would let out soft hums in hopes he would pay at least a little bit of attention to you. He doesn’t.
“Honey,” you whine, nuzzling into the mess of curls gathered at his shoulder. 
“Busy, baby,” he responds, eyes never leaving the pages of the notebook in front of him. 
“Want you though,” you whimper, getting up from your spot and snaking your hand over his chest. He sighs at your words, pencil getting thrown to the wayside as he turns in his chair, spreading his legs and looking up at you with the look he always has when he’s irritated. 
“Don’t care, I’m busy darling,” his legs are still spread, dark eyes boring into yours as you sway back and forth.
“Can I jus’ suck you off?” you bat your eyelashes at him, silently begging him for something, anything.
He rolls his eyes, popping the button of his jeans and pulling them down along with his boxers. His cock is half hard, Eddie giving it a few tugs as you walk towards him. You’re about to sink to your knees but Eddie stops you. 
“Uh uh- sit,” he says as he motions towards his cock. 
You quirk your eyebrows, confused as he directs you.
“I said- Sit,” he spits in the palm of his hand, stroking his cock as you hover over him. He guides the tip to your hole, you finally sinking down once he pushes in. 
It burns so good, the ache of accommodating him causing the coil in your belly to tighten. You begin to bounce but Eddie's grip on your hip is harsh and tight. 
“Didn’t say you could ride me,” he bites as he turns back towards his campaign, picking up his pen and getting back to work as if he isn't balls deep inside of you right now.
“E-eds please,” you finally whine after 5 minutes of what felt like agonizing torture. Eddie’s cock was so perfect inside you, it rubbed at the right spot deducing you to a squirmy needy mess. 
“If you keep still, I’ll fuck you into the matress, yeah? Be a good girl and I’ll take such good care of you,” he whispers in your ear, placing a soft kiss below your ear as he continues the task at hand. 
5 more minutes pass, Eddie finally closing his notebook and guiding his hand to your hip. 
“Want to ride me? Or do you want me to take care of you?”
You merely nuzzle into his neck, silently giving him your answer. He chuckles and hoists you off of his cock, leading you to the bed. 
He pulls you to the edge, lifting your legs up and pushing them against your body before he thrusts back inside. 
“Fuck- so impatient aren’t you?”
You nod dumbly, boobs bouncing as he punches into you with each thrust.
“Made yourself a mess on my cock while I was just trying to plan a campaign?”
“M’ sorry honey, just needed you,” He thrusts, picking up pace, balls slapping against your ass.
“Yeah, so needy you just had to sit on my cock, huh?” you're a mess underneath him, writhing and moaning as he drills into you. 
“Fuck- you feel so good angel. Pretty sure If I die and go to heaven, I’d just end up between your legs,” 
“Eddie- Eds- fuck m’ so close,” he pulls out at your words, flipping you over in order to fuck you from behind. Your hand snakes to your clit, rubbing at it as he thrusts into you deeply. 
“Come for me, honey. Come on my cock, I’ll come inside, give you whatcha want,” he pins your hands behind your back, setting a rough pace. 
“F-fuck E-ed,” Eddie released your hands, knuckles turning white as you grip the sheets and ride through your orgasm, you feel Eddie pick up his brutal pace, his thrusts becoming erratic as your orgasm continues. 
“Gonna fill you up now m’kay?” you nod, cheek pressed into the pillow as you let out soft whimpers at his relentless pace. 
His hips stutter and finally he’s coming. It’s so much, dripping out of you and down his balls. He pulls out once he has emptied himself inside of you. 
It drips out at a steady pace, his sheets being painted by his come mixed with yours. 
You collapse down onto the bed, turning onto your side in order to let Eddie settle in beside you. He gathers you closely, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 
He gets up from his place on the bed after a few minutes, returning with a warm cloth. He spreads your legs audibly moaning at the sight of your pussy painted with the evidence of him. 
He wipes you up, being as gentle as he can. You suck in a breath through your teeth when the rough cloth drags over your clit. 
“M sorry honey, almost done, kay?”
He pressed a kiss above your clit, causing you to giggle.
“Love you,"
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orchidyoonkook · 6 months
Text
The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG
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Title: The Devil Wears Valentino  
Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader
Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff
Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 
Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.
And obnoxiously flirty.
Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,
Explicit warnings under the cut.
Word Count: 10,488
Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM
A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!
A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much
A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.
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Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....
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Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word. 
Intimate. That would be a better choice. 
From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering. 
The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony. 
You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.
He’ll be back for another soon.
While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy. 
Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts. 
Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.
And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go. 
Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.
Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between. 
Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company. 
Most of the time.
You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight. 
“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”
“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.
Fucking incubi demons…
You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off. 
You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.
You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”
Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges. 
Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter. 
They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot. 
It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are. 
You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back. 
“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses. 
And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up. 
“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.” 
There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.
“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.
It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.
Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 
Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.
And obnoxiously flirty. 
But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is. 
Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.
Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck. 
It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.
He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself. 
“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.” 
To which you think again, fucking incubi…
Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night. 
You learned your lesson.
So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung! 
You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.
From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.
Which can only mean one fucking thing. 
You just lost all your tips for the night. 
Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it. 
Fuck. 
“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.
“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet. 
You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know. 
“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’ 
You know exactly where it is.
No one else will touch it. 
Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass. 
No one serves him but you. 
But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you. 
You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.
You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year. 
After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,
“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”
He didn’t take another breath. 
A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.  
“Thanks,” You’d said.
“It’s where he belongs,”  he responded. 
Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.
But he was more than pleased. 
After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.
He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you. 
Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it. 
A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink. 
Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;
‘One for sorrow,
Two for joy,
Three for a girl,
Four for a boy,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven for a secret never to be told.’
You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself. 
‘Eight for a wish,
Nine for a kiss,
Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,
Eleven for health,
Twelve for wealth,’
You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.
“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.” 
He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.” 
You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.
“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’” 
He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.” 
“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”
You know the entire club listens in to your conversation. 
No one calls the Devil by his first name. 
Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to. 
And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives. 
No one except you. 
What a funny little exception you are.
Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”
You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.
You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is. 
“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that. 
Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in. 
“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night. 
He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker… 
“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.
Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up. 
You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.
Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…
Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.
You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath. 
The King of Hell. 
He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end. 
Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon. 
Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging. 
He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.
You have to stay away from him. 
But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.
As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers. 
It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully. 
There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity. 
“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”
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Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.
Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive. 
The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again. 
Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well. 
You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while. 
All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was. 
And maybe he is. 
But not to you. 
The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow. 
You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him. 
The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world. 
And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you. 
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It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.
You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find. 
Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos. 
They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.
All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside. 
Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor. 
Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.
You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding. 
You needed this.
A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system. 
You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth. 
“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing. 
“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer. 
You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.” 
Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target. 
In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own. 
Yoongi. 
God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.
Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself. 
Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real. 
And he looks like sin incarnate. 
Fitting. 
Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?
Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you. 
Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.
When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on. 
Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved. 
Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.
They were all you. 
Maybe his plan was working after all…
“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.
What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.
“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”
He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.
“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.
A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises. 
“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”
Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night. 
Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse. 
Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him. 
You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.
“What do you think?”  
Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.
“May I touch?”
You don’t hesitate. 
“Yes.” 
Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.
“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body. 
This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.” 
Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now. 
Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening. 
The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you. 
“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..
Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant. 
Beautiful. 
“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says. 
“My birthstone,” you reply.
“Your birthstone.”
You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.
“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”
“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you. 
Makes you wonder what he promised.
Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers. 
Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.
Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you. 
Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring. 
What is he doing to you?
“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear. 
“Mmm?”
“Would you like to dance?”
Fuck would you ever, but wait— 
“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse. 
Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.
“Is that something you’d be interested in?” 
“Yes.”
You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly. 
“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.
Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.
Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’. 
They don’t know about Yoongi.
They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him. 
You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides. 
You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it. 
You’ve decided. 
To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power. 
To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years. 
You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back. 
But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.
You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.
“Let’s go to yours.”
“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”
Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club. 
“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.
Fuck, you don’t want to wait. 
And apparently neither does Yoongi. 
“Do you trust me?” He asks.
“Yes, but what does tha–”
“Close your eyes for me, Love.”
Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate. 
So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil. 
You trust Yoongi. 
“That's a good girl.” 
One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft. 
Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people? 
But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.
What?
“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on. 
Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.
“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”
Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.
Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get. 
He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.
“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”
You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight. 
There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent. 
Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.
Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.
“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.
He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea. 
Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh. 
You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”
You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off. 
“Please what, Love?”
“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”
“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?” 
“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.
“There she is.”
Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs. 
They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you. 
Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.
“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.” 
His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.
“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”
You nod, but that’s not good enough for him. 
“I need to hear it.”
“I understand.”
“Understand what?” He pushes.
“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge. 
“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.
The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.
“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”
Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”
He spares you one completely unsympathetic look. 
“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”
Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”
His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.
“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded. 
Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter. 
If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.
Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip. 
“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”
He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.
He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue. 
“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.
“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.
He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.
“Gotta stretch you out for me first.” 
Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.
“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”
“And if I do?” 
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”
Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”
“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck…
You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get. 
And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it. 
Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt. 
Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines. 
“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before. 
Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”
“Whatever you want, Angel.”
Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip. 
“Fuck—”
Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him. 
“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”
Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.
“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”
The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it. 
Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it. 
“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.” 
His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures. 
You’re the most powerful person here. 
You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible. 
And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know. 
“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact. 
Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets. 
“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”
His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.
“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”
“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace. 
You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them. 
Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.
This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.
This is about you. 
And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.
You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else. 
You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal. 
Perfect in every single way. 
“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”
He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too. 
“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”
You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”
“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.
“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.
“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”
The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back. 
Not yet. 
You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.
Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling. 
Ever.  
And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more. 
He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence. 
There was only you. 
Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows. 
And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.
It’s time for him to finally claim you back.
“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”
“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”
Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.
“Only for you, Yoongi.”
His thrusts stutter.
“Fuck!”
He’s coming. 
He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance. 
It’s the first time he’s said your name.
And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white. 
You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.
Whatever you want. Whatever you need. 
It’s yours. 
He’ll make it so.
At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.
He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze. 
You got exactly what you wanted.
He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented. 
And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.
“What changed?” 
“Hmm?”
“What about tonight made you change your mind?”
You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?” 
That seductive smirk makes an appearance.
“Yes.”
“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”
Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before. 
“Next time,” he says. A promise.
You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking. 
“What about you?” you ask.
“What about me?”
“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”
He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say. 
“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.” 
“My soul?”
“Mhm.”
“You’ve never asked for mine before.”
“Never needed it.”
At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”
“You.” 
Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him. 
You just know it. 
“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”
You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless. 
You never expected anything like that. 
You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years. 
Kindness. Patience.
The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better. 
Because of you.  
“I don't know what to say.”
“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”
You can do that. 
“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly. 
Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.
“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.
“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell. 
He was yours now. 
The Devil was yours.
King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.  
“Oh thank fuck.”
“Not thank God?” you tease.
Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”
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A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3
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stairain · 1 year
Text
Masterlist
Bolded is NSFW.
✪ = Reader Favorite ✫ = Author Favorite
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Bad idea. - You see your Professor talking to one of his co-workers, prompting insecurities about him belonging with someone his age.
Yes, Professor. - What follows after a jealous argument between Professor Spencer and his student.
Only you, darling. - You tell your professor you want a “real relationship”, it doesn’t bode well at all.
Beatdown. - Your professor can’t seem to get enough of your punishments. He was pushing your limits, and you intend to break him.
✫ I know your wife and she wouldn’t mind. - Even though he's married to someone else, Spencer can't resist taking care of you every time you show up on his doorstep.
✫ Swing and a Miss. - You meet a nerd at a bar, and you’re determined to claim him as yours.
✪ In the Pouring Rain. - You're driving home and there’s a storm incoming, but pulling over and never pulling out seems more than satisfactory. 
✪✫ Vegas Redemption.- You spot Spencer at a hotel lounge alone, you see has a ring on his finger, but that doesn't stop you.
Headlights Flashing - Spencer and you are rivaling street racers, and despite your deep rooted hatred for each other, with enough adrenaline, arousal, and pure aggression shooting through your veins, you find yourself at the mercy of your contender.
Come and Save me now. - Spencer is supposed to be your doctor, but making you feel better surely wasn’t out of the job description. 
✪✫ Daddy's Little Helper. - Spencer wants nothing more than to show his appreciation for you babysitting his daughter, but by giving you a baby of your own was not what you expected.
✪ Truth of a Lifetime. - After a long day at work, you want nothing more than to unwind with your best friend, but playing a game of drunk Truth or Dare was definitely not what you had in mind. 
✪✫ Captive to Crosswords. - Spencer’s got you tied to a chair, but he’s more interested in finishing his crossword puzzle than finishing you.
✪ Down by the Dock. - After telling Spencer how distant he's been, he's determined to prove just how close he can get with you.
Dare of a Lifetime. - Part 2 to “Truth of a Lifetime” where you show Spencer the kinds of things you’re into, and he is quite the hands-on learner.
✫ Make Hate to You. - Spencer’s convinced you like him a little more than you’re letting on, but you’re set on showing him just how wrong he is.
✪ Mommy's Boyfriend. - While dropping off your son at school, the last thing you expect is your ex-boyfriend Mr.Reid to be his teacher.
✪ Gun that doesn't shoot. - You've grown tired of the princess treatment from Spencer, just wishing he'd slap you around for once, so you don't stop until he does.
✪ Old Fashioned. - After a long night of waiting tables, a quiet man who can’t help but blush every time you speak to him is just what you need.
✪ Staying Up. - You're peacefully sleeping when Spencer comes home needy for you, but you're more than happy to let him use you.
✪✫ The Art of Film - Spencer's wears his FBI vest and bodycam while he fucks you. 
BBM Baby - Spencer wants nothing more than to leave work to be with you, so you sext him to torture him even further. 
The Chase. - Getting pulled over wasn't exactly your plan for a Friday night, but getting pulled over by a hot officer just might be.  
Wrong Move You're Dead - Spencer was never shy about his obsession for you, but you don't know just how far he'd go to prove you belong to him.
✪✫Jealous Girl. - Catching Spencer talking to another woman wasn’t exactly ideal, but thankfully you know just how to handle him. 
Impatience.- Your patience was hardly that of a saint, so it’s no surprise when Spencer’s forced to leave work to fuck you. 
✫ All Aboard. - When you meet a handsome stranger on the train home, he's adamant from the moment your gazes lock that he’ll get a taste of you.
Desk Pet. - Despite knowing the importance of work, Spencer still can't help but distract you in the worst way possible.
Begging for a Breaking. - You've never been that of a beggar for Spencer, but you’re not about to back down now.
✪ Friendly Competition. - Spencer gets a little too cocky and thinks he can please you better than a toy, so you take it upon yourself to crush his ego. 
✫ Brushstrokes - You weren’t entirely sure what being Spencer’s muse meant, but it certainly wasn’t what he had in mind.
Loosen Up - Parties have never been much of Spencer's scene, luckily you've got no problem helping him calm down.
Conditioned Response - You knew training someone like a dog wasn't the most ethical, but Spencer just makes it too easy to pass up.
Good Decoration - After misplacing a folder full of explicit images, the last thing you’d expect was Spencer to take it. 
Double-Edged Sword - The only way Spencer is allowed to fuck you is to wear a strap-on.
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bitchimasnake-sss · 6 months
Text
"let me help you out" ft. the monster trio!
in which, an experienced you gets to teach them something new
ft. (inexperienced) luffy, zoro, sanji x fem!reader
warnings: short nsfw drabbles; oral (both m!receiving and f!receiving), dirty talk, handjob, sub!op men (im a whore for pathetic men)
luffy:
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bark bark woof woof icanbealightshade-
- "aww?" you nibbled on his earlobe, deft fingers swiftly moving up and down his shaft, "are you okay luffy?" - "it feels so good u-gh" he was panting, eyes closed, lips bitten till they were red, hair damp and tangled words on the tip of his tongue, "ple-ease please don't stop ha-" "hm?" you teased, licking a stripe from the base of his throat to his jaw, "what will i get in return?" - "anything" his hand is on top of yours, calloused fingers pumping his dick alongside your delicate ones, "anything you want, i will do i- it" "hands to yourself, baby you know the rules" pressing open-mouthed kisses against his tattered skin, you move downwards till youre sucking on his tip, swirling your tongue slowly and tasting the salty precum - "relax" you whispered as you licked up his cock, tracing the faint veins with the tip of your tongue as he shivered under you - as you're sucking his dick, he stretches it ever so slightly so that it's hitting the back of your throat. he lowly whispers, "just w-anna see your throat getting fucked" - you let him do as he pleases - after all, first times are supposed to be fun aren't they?
zoro:
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im not above the temptations of the flesh im afraid
- you're pushing zoro against the wall, kissing him as he stares at you with wide eyes "yn?" he's whispering against your hot kisses, looking down at your tits as they spill out of a flimsy tank top, sensitive even to your most casual touches, "somebody's gonna see us, baby" "let me help you, zoro" - the rest of the crew was doing their usual around the deck and thankfully, nobody had wandered into your little corner yet - you bite down on his pulse, tasting the citrusy soap on his skin and leaving behind purple bruises - when he moans, you press a hand onto his mouth, "shh, they'd hear us. you don't want to let them see you like this right? so obviously fucked out by me?" - and then you're on your knees, pulling down his pants and freeing his cock from the cloth-bound cage. you look up at him, biting your lip as you give him an innocent look, "can i suck your dick hm?" "somebody's gonna catc- fuck, god, fuc- k" his breath hitches as you take half of his dick in, swirling your tongue and playing with the hard cock, "darling, quit playin'" - his back is pressed against the wall and his hips are matching the torturous rhythm of your hand, he's fucking himself, rutting desperately into your hands as his grip in your hair tightens "'m so close, so so close, angel, fu-ck" he throws his head back, hands pulling your mouth to his cock again, "faster, fasterf- please baby" you hum against his member, "wanna cum on my face?" - never have you seen this man come undone so soon
sanji:
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hehehehe marry me 💍💍
- "yn, yn, yn~" he's rutting into air, waiting for any sort of friction that you deprive him of, "please don't make me wait" - he whimpers as you slip a finger in and moan out his name, you smile at him through the stimulation, "i thought you wanted to just see?" "let me touch it just once pleas-" "sanji, sit still" you silence him, letting your fingers mercilessly circle your own clit as you choke down sobs and cries - when you were done, you crawled over, making him taste your fingers, "see, you were so patient, so, now i should give something in return shouldn't i?" - he's whimpering when you palm him through his dress slacks and realize suddenly that he ha already cum "aw? that all you could take?" he flushes and as you continue palming him, he feels himself getting hard, grnding against your soft hands, "please yn, please don't make me wait" "aww, if you're in a hurry come help me" you encourage and he's pumping himself with your pace. - his eyes are rolled back, head thrown back as he struggles to breathe,"pl-ease just a little more, please plea" - his face is flushed as his cums undone in your hand
a/n: hope you enjoyed this lol and please please let me know the artists if you know them, full credit for the art to them!!
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kisakis-boyfriend · 6 months
Note
Halloween hcs for a Witch!Reader who makes a pact with Demon!Freminet/Scaramouche/Albedo and uses his magical obedience to make his pussy come and squirt on command
Hhhhnnngghh I forgot how much I enjoy scenarios like this 🥴 Everyone is 20+ as per usual~
I hope these are to your liking, dear anon ❤️
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Freminet
Oh this poor little thing...you just love to ruin him when he least expects it
Using your pact to call him to your location and luring him into a false sense of security by acting sweet and sitting him in your lap for cuddles
Then when Freminet has relaxed you'll activate the seal on your hand and whisper in a commanding tone “Cum for me, darling”
And the little demon throws his head back so hard, his pussy clenched around nothing at all while a powerful orgasm hits him
Freminet will beg so sweetly for you to stick something inside, anything at all, just...fill him up please? 🥺
“Pl-please....need your fingers...need you insiiaaahhh—!! ” He'll cry out while you command him to cum untouched once again, the intensity of it all causes his vision to turn all fuzzy
You oblige him, torturously though. Shoving your fingers deep within his wet cunt and fingering Freminet roughly until he shouts out, “C-close!! Aaahh—!! Y/n! ”
He's so soooo embarrassed when you force his little pussy to squirt
Painfully clawing at your wrist while you finger his hole open and make him squirt harder
And of course after you've tortured him to hell and back (pun intended) you'll soothe the little demon and take care of him while he recovers from his orgasms 💙
Scaramouche
A bratty little thing like Scara honestly deserves something like this
He's in the middle of chastising you for some reason or another when your thumb presses against the seal on your palm, activating your control over him
All it takes is you uttering a single word, “Cum”
Scaramouche's eyes widen in shock as he feels slick cum drip out of his cunt, his thighs shaking the entire time his orgasm lasts
“Wh-what the fuck....was- aaahh!! Why did you–?” The poor thing is dumbfounded as the realization hits him; you forced him to cum just to make him shut up
Scara is about to berate you again when you repeat the command, smirking down at the man while he sinks to his knees. His legs no longer able to support him from cumming a second time within a few minutes
He looks up at you with tears in his eyes, a fierce look shooting daggers at you despite that fact. And you surprise him yet again with the words, “Squirt for me, baby. Make a mess all over the floor then clean it up ”
Unable to refuse your order, the bratty demon gushes all over himself. His shorts and panties are soaked and dripping all over the floor underneath him, creating a puddle of wetness
His torso falls forward onto the ground, causing his ass to stick up in the air as another wave hits him and his pretty pussy squirts again, his shrill wailing fills the room from pure pleasure
After a minute of letting him catch his breath you'll circle around behind him and touch his wet cunt, his body jolting from overstimulation at the tiny bit of contact
Maybe he learned his lesson this time, maybe not. His fate all depends on how hard he can beg for forgiveness now~ 💜
Albedo
How lucky you are to have a demon prince under your command. How delicious it is to force your prince to cum whenever you think he should
Bending Albedo over your desk and fucking into him. Not allowing him to cum unless it's from your command 😳
He's stuffed completely full, moaning like a whore, and then you force him to gush all over the tile floor
His little cheeks heat up uncomfortably while you coo in his ear, “Aaaww, did my little prince make a mess? How about you do it again, squirt for me, Albedo. Show me how much your pussy craves being stretched and fucked~”
Albedo's hands slam on the desk and claw at the wood as he's forced to cum again, white hot pleasure consuming his very being
Maybe you'll grab him by the horns and use them as leverage to fuck into his cunt harder, but only if he begs~ 💛
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Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3
Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!
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privitivium · 2 months
Note
Oblivious Male reader being in a marriage with a yandere who is so much bigger than him but is a slut for him behind closed doors(ofcourse since reader is oblivious to everything Yan!Husband has to always be the one to initiate sex). One day male reader just went out to buy something from the convenience store and when walking back encountered a woman trying to flirt with him but ofcourse M reader just thought that she was just asking for directions, but he is kinda weirded out cause why does she have to touch his chest if she just needed directions? After that interaction M reader continued to walk back home and once he arrived he was welcomed by ofcourse his yandere husband(and his tiddies on readers face 😺), he then started to talk about the things he bought from the convenience store and also telling Yan!Husband about the woman he encountered earlier on the way home that asked for directions and telling him how she was weirdly touching his chest, as soon as reader said that yan!Husband's smile twitched and sweetly asked "honey, Did you get her name?" Then reader saying no and saying that he didnt ask since she was just a stranger after all and going to his room to change. Meanwhile Yan!Husband is fuming and is sure that he will be torturing someone later when ofcourse his dear M reader is asleep. :)
-💌
(hey! Sorry if it's too long :(. Anyways how are you? ^^)
so lovely. i'm doing pretty alright - overwhelmed but that is nothing new!! I love this,,,....... thank you 💌
yandere husband x oblivious husband reader!!!
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he loved you. he loves you-! correction, he was utterly fucking obsessed with you. your doting husband... so kind and sweet to you, so much bigger than you were!! so tall your face only comes up to his pecs that he often smothers you in, snickering devilishly as he hugs your face into him - and no one would ever suspect him being such a fucking whore behind closed doors, that's rightㅡ! begging for your seed in the bedroom,,, panting like a dog as he rides you,,, so eager for you to fill him up, so happily parting his lips to catch remnants of your seed - whining,,, you love your husband. and he,,, loving how unmindful - heedless you were. he doesnt quite mind having to be the one to initiate sex, as he likes flustering you before you confidently take the reins as he so begs,,,
yet, it was a little embarrassing to hear your husband beg for your cum,,, but you abide by his wishes without complaint. you could never complain about him-!! he was everything you've ever wanted in a lover... he was so affectionate, caring, thoughtful... god how could you not be so utterly in love with him as he was with you??!! i mean - it's obvious who loves the other more... threatening to do anything it takes just to keep you happy...
you would never suspect him ever harming others for your own benefit, right? you would never know how absolutely fucking jealous he was, right??? he figures noㅡno, you would never quite figure it out - being a little heedless to flirtation and seducing strangers... good thing he's always by your side, darling husband...
her shoulder nearly brushed against yours - she was talking about something, uhm... you couldn't really understand her, her voice was low and whispery - on purpose??? and she was gesturing her hand around... touching on your shoulder - fingertips gliding to your chest, smiling so widely with a slight blush in her cheeksㅡoh!
ㅡ"to the store? by yourself???" he was apprehensive, but relents with a gentle huff seeing how excited you were to do something for him,,, you're just so cute. so eager to please him as he pleases you so in the bedroom,,,...
bidding you goodbye with a sloppy kiss on your lips, mwah-! you were rather ecstatic, shopping for your husband with a lil note with all the groceries you were tasked to get... it was a rather quick trip - humming to yourself as you cross the surprisingly not busy intersection to get home - and at a stoplight, where a woman was waiting for the light to change. A STRANGER! your husband told you he didnt like you talking to strangers, so you try to do as he wants - to not interact. except she was... coming closer. obnoxiously close.
ㅡ"oh, sorry, are you asking for directions?" you pause, assessing the woman - her eyes half lidded and her lips almost pouty. "hnn.. the directions to your place?" she tries, grinning widely - uagh, whats she doing? being all weird and touching you - "yeah, so-" you're taking a guess - she looks like she enjoys colorful places afterall, due to her rather colorful outfit... "you gotta go down the street there if you wanna get down to the main street. it's got a great selection of clothing shops." you continue, nonchalantly, while nodding toward the other street. "great food, too." short, straight to the point..
ㅡshe seemed to take the hint, a hint you didnt even know you ere giving - and she nods, bidding you goodbye - and walks opposite of you... hn. Strange Encounter... not one to dwell on such meaningless things, you continue home when the light turns, carrying your bags of groceries happily and finally making it to your home which you shared with your beloved, who opened the door when you ere barely making it up the walkway-!
"awh, thank goodness..." his husband greets you lovingly at the door as you near; looking relieved as he pulls you into a fond embrace - knowingly burying your face in his pecs. "i was getting worried about you!!" he cries out, burying his face into your head, inhaling your scent and relaxing with solace noe that you were home in his arms at last!
"oh, i'm sorry..." your voice muffled as you were buried in your husbands rather voluptuous chest he liked for you to fondle in bed - he parts, still keeping a grip on you to let you continue;; "yes, it took longer than anticipated, i'm sorry." you reached up - a soft mwah leaving your lips after you kiss his husbands' flushed cheek affectionately - bags crinkling in handㅡ"it's alright, my sweet. you know how i get..." he hums, pulling you in and closing the door behind you; petting you - how he gets... all jealous and concerned like a total fucking mama bear?? you had no idea. before you visibly brightened - leaning up and kissing him firmly beforeㅡ
"ah - look what i got you-!" so happily pushing past him and into the kitchen - setting the groceries on the counter before digging in one specific bag - a gift of food! pulling it out so excitedly and offering it to him - his face burning with bashfulness as he gently plucks the sweet treat from your hands;; looking thoughtful and flustered,,, and leaning over to gently kiss your neck before you continuedㅡaccidentally stepping out of the way of his kiss,,,
he leans over - getting his kiss, planting one affectionately on the nape of your neck before pulling away; "did anything interesting happen while you were at the store, honey?" he questions inquisitively, beginning to help unpack the couple other bags you brought -
"i also got your favorite uh- creamer, i noticed you needed more," listing off various other groceries you had gotten - before remembering-! "ah, and also, some woman after i left came up to me asking for directions?" you narrow your eyes, trying to remember as you turn to your husband - "she was really close and started touching my chest, but then she left after i gave her directions. it was a bit weirdㅡ"
ㅡhuh? a woman - touching your chest?????
"oh,, really?" he hummed, jaw tensing - touching your chest? his chest??? - appearing delighted at your adventure, fuming at hearing what this bitch did to his darling husband... this is why he should accompany you everywhere...!! despite his jealousy... he decides to let you go off to the supermarket by yourself - and look what happens. that's alright, he doesn't blame you... you are quite the catch, and he's so happy that he has you all to himself. he just wishes other people knew that by taking a look at your left hand ‐ those bitches!! ㅡ "did you happen to get her name, hun?" he questions delicately, brushing his fingertips underneath your eye softly, looking attentive as he studies your facial features.
you hum in denial, blinking at him - thoroughly enjoying his gentle, fleeting touch tracing your cheek, "eh, no... i didn't askㅡ" furrowing your eyebrows in mild confusion - should you have? it didn't seem like the conversation was going anywhere to friendship... "no, no you shouldnt have..." he coos sweetly, humming in agreement and reaching over;; pecking him on the lips, molding them together before sauntering away towards your bedroom whilst loosening your collar - husband, fuming in place and wondering how to hack the camera feed of the downtown streets to find that stupid fucking bitch putting her hands on his manㅡ
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Text
It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader
[Chapter 24] || [Chapter 26]
Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ cw: not smut but a bit of sexual tension Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: ahem ahem ahem ahem
thanks to @lyralein for helping solve a problem I was having during this chapter
and also @st-el-la-luna for THIS brilliance that although I didn't copy or anything, still got stuck in the back of my head and made me giggle and inspired me a little!
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Chapter 25: Soap............?
you: simon. you: save me pls. Simon: Location. you: that felt ominous as fuck. Simon: You texted me to help you. Simon: Location. you: oh gosh no simon its not urgent. you: its not even like you: a panic thing you: no danger Simon: Don’t ever text me to save you when it isn’t an actual emergency. you: i’m sorry!!!!!! you: did i scare you that much??? Simon: Yes. Simon: You had me ready to steal a HUMVEE to get to you. you: I’M SORRY! you: i’m just out with my friends for brunch and kyle and johnny came and they’re embarrassing me and i need help Simon: So that’s where they went. Simon: You’ve got this. you: SIMON, THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT OUR SEX LIVES! you: DON’T LEAVE ME TO DEAL WITH THIS ALONE. you: HELP? Simon: Darling you’re dating them, you’re gonna have to get used to this sooner or later. you: I KNOW BUT STILL you: SIMON PLEASE Simon: I’m in a meeting, darling. Simon: You’ve got this. Simon: 🖤 you: SIMON?! you: awwww you sent me an emoji! you: BUT SIMON?!?!?!??! you: don’t leave me like this!!! you: how dare youuuu
He stopped responding so you sighed dramatically and put your phone away, your eyes flittering over the table.
In just 15 minutes, Johnny and Kyle had gone from bickering to regaling your friends with sexcapade stories to talking about your dates, about each other, about the rest of the guys, about work. 
Your friends are, of course, eating it up, how could they not? The lads are charming, funny, interesting, hot…
You want to pay attention to the stories Johnny is regaling your friends about, as well as Kyle, with the retelling of his helicopter upside-down cruise, but… you can’t. You’re still mortified, long after they moved away from the sex talk… 
And it doesn’t help that Kyle has taken your chair and made you sit on his lap while the five of you talk.
Sure, you’ve graduated to regular talk, but that doesn’t solve the fact that Kyle’s cock is hard, straining against the fly of his grey jeans, and slotted right between your ass cheeks, his hands gripping you around the hip to keep you sat still.
Thank God for the existence of Simon Motherfucking Riley (memo to self: ask him and the rest of the lads what their middle names are)...
The door opens after what felt like a torturous amount of time and in strolls a 6ft4 mountain of a man in all black, as usual.
“L.T.!” Johnny shouts and waves him over, as if somehow Johnny’s raucous laugh was missable and Simon might not know where he, and the group, is.
Your friends, of course, immediately look over, their jaws proceeding to drop in unison at the sight of Simon.
His sexy little black leather jacket, black jeans, black t-shirt, black boots… No mask in sight… And, for once, his hair is lying flat over his forehead, loose blond strands just barely reaching his thick eyebrows.
He has to have done it on purpose.
“Hi…” You greeted Simon softly, your face warming up a bit at the sight of him. He nods at you and cocks an eyebrow, the left corner of his mouth rising in a smirk.
Just as you’re wondering where he came from, how he knew where you were, and wasn’t he in a meeting…
“Finally. Texted ye the address like 30 minutes ago.” Johnny quips next to you.
“Piss off.” Simon replies as he keeps looking at you. He doesn’t even bother to introduce himself to Leah and Mia.
“Hear you’ve been embarrassing our partner.” Simon says, his brown eyes slowly sliding up to Johnny then to Kyle behind you.
“Ye did?” Johnny asks and turns to look at you. “Ye told on me?!” He asks dramatically, as if it was the biggest betrayal.
“Don’t look at ‘em, look at me.” Simon quips as he leans forward and rests his hand on the back of Kyle and your chair, glaring right at Johnny.
“Oh, please, L.T., it’s all good-natured.” Johnny says dismissively with a playful smile on his lips.
“Is it?” Simon retorts.
“Why’s it feel like I’m watching a big brother confront a school bully?” Kyle quips.
“Don’t start too, Garrick, you’ll get your dose soon.” Simon adds.
“Si… Please…” You remark and laugh nervously as you look around, your face already burning hotter and hotter. “We’re making a scene.”
“You asked me to save ya, darlin’, that’s what I’m doin’, hm?” Simon tells you before leaning close and planting a kiss on the corner of your mouth, his eyes still glued to Johnny. “So, how about it, Johnny?”
“How about what, L.T.?” Johnny asks, though, you don’t miss the way his eyes are shining at the sight of Simon’s protectiveness… or the way Kyle’s breath hitches right behind your ear, his cock throbbing against your ass.
“If you’re so keen on embarrassing people by revealing private matters… How about we tell everyone about the reason your callsign’s Soap?” Simon quips. Then, he turns his head and, staring right at your friends, he continues.
“A callsign is like an alias we use over the radio.” He explains. “And Johnny’s here is ‘Soap’... wanna guess why? I’ll tell you…” He turns his head and looks right at Johnny again.
“It’s because he’s dropped his in the shower more often than one can stand to bloody count, if you catch my drift.” He remarks, then, he shoots you a little wink.
“That’s nae- You know it’s- You-” For the first time in what must be his whole life, Johnny was left a blubbering mess, stuttering over himself…
“Damn… didn’t know friendly fire was turned on…” You quip, trying to clear the air a bit. It seems to work, because all three of the men around you chuckle at it.
Your eyes then lock with Simon’s, then Johnny’s… and meanwhile, Simon’s also looking at Kyle behind you. The sexual tension is almost palpable…
“I think we should go home, so we avoid any more embarrassment, hm?” Simon suggests and pulls you up to your feet by the forearm, causing you to squeak in surprise at the suddenness of it. 
“I agree.” Kyle says as he stands up too. 
“Well said, L.T.” Johnny adds.
Simon pulls out his wallet and drops a few bills on the table. “For the check.” He tells Leah and Mia. “Nice to meet you.” Then, he drags you out of the bistro.
“It was very nice to meet you!” Kyle tells the girls, making no attempts to cover the bulge in his pants as he rushes after you and Simon.
“Sorry, duty calls. But we need to do this again.” Johnny adds as he scoots across the gap in the chairs and winks at the girls before setting off after the three that have already left. “I’ll make sure to tell you all the hot gossip next time!” He adds loudly before leaving out the door.
Leah and Mia are left sitting there flabbergasted, eyes blinking slowly, before exchanging a look with one another.
“The candle worked too well.” Mia states blankly.
“It did.” Leah agrees. “Do you… have another one?”
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taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):
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shegetsburned · 21 days
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❝ he’s fucking in sin ❞ w. kento nanami ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .
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.nsfw.
• — content. professor nanami’s been waiting for your return ever since he committed the inconcevable mistake of fucking his student. • — author’s note. a follow up to archeology teacher!nanami. you guys are stuck with him and this au for a while. not sorry. <3
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who wonders where you’ve been. ever since the incident, he hasn’t seen you in his class or in the facility. you had stormed out like a blushing mess, almost ashamed to have let your teacher see you whining and needy under him.
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who’s been staying thirty minutes after class every day, hopefully waiting for your potential return but also to prove to himself he isn’t crazy and hasn’t been obsessed for nothing.
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who took a look into your file, studying your schedule. he might mention your name once or twice to his colleagues, without any luck. you haven’t been to any of your classes for a whole week.
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who has hesitated to call you more than once when he saw your number written under your address in your file. he has it memorized and transcribed in one of his notebooks. he leaves it open on his desk for the whole thirty minutes he’s waiting after class, pondering on the pros and cons of giving you a call. unfortunately for him, he finds far more pros.
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who deeply regrets not having stopped you when you stormed out. he should’ve asked you out. he should’ve asked for your number. he should’ve told you how obsessed he is with you.
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who finds himself alone at home after an exhausting day. he’s still thinking about these sweet lips of yours and cute pussy he made such good use of. he remembers everything. from your adorable whines to your shy manners. everything about you makes him crazy.
˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who lazily unbuckles his pants, a tired hand slipping under his underwear, reaching for his twitching cock. imagining you losing his mind just like he is makes it so easy.
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who still finds the thought of breaking the rules and fucking his student exciting. he pumps his fist, leaning backward into his couch, deep groans followed by even deeper sighs when he visualizes how good you’d look riding him in that same position.
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who usually always knows what to do in every situation but has been trapped in an unbearable state for the first time. longing for you had been a torture. it felt as if he had been robbed of someone that belonged to him.
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who spoke your name like a desperate plea when he saw you finally walk into his class. he stood up right away. he looked like a mess. he looked tired but his eyes never left yours.
“mister nanami-”
he was quick to correct you. “not for you, no. kento, darling.”
his words were as soft as the last time you had seen him, that’s why you felt so bad telling him the truth and explaining your actions.
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who stopped you as soon as you tried to make excuses for yourself. gibberish about being sick and stuck in bed for the whole week. who were you kidding? he saw right through you.
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who listened to you when you told him how wrong it was and how it never should’ve happened but could only hear lies hiding a desperate truth.
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who reassured you by offering his chair and urging you to take a deep breath before getting any further. you looked stressed and overwhelmed which he had seen as soon as you had stepped through the door.
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who locked the door behind you, making sure no one would interrupt your conversation. he needed explanations and nothing would get in the way of spending time with his favourite student.
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who knew how he felt about you but wondered how you felt about your teacher. truth is, he was the only man that ever told you how good you did in class. he was the only one who believed in you and encouraged you to study the things you loved most. he was so different than any man you had ever known. he gave you validation.
you craved love from him. you didn’t just love him mentally, you desired him physically. you needed him to love you. but you also knew this was too much to ask from your archeology teacher that had crossed the line by fucking you on his desk one week ago.
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who reads you like a book. he knows you’re scared. so scared that you’re just nanami’s shameful and dirty little secret. scared that he won’t reciprocate your delusional feelings.
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who would constantly praise and adore you if you gave him the chance. he’d give you all the care and love you’ve always deserved if getting involved with a student wasn’t so dangerous for his career but, most importantly, for your future.
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who’s even more infatuated with you than you are with him and struggles to keep his feelings for himself when you bite your lip nervously, fingers twirling with one strand of hair, all ears for his remarks and explanations. you were so different from his other ungrateful students.
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who swore to himself he’d take things slow and ask you out before going any further but your pink-tainted cheeks, inviting lips and doll eyes were testing his patience.
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who places a hand on your shoulder, slightly leaning forward to calm you down. he pulls the chair towards him and takes a knee, curious hands brushing the side of your naked thighs.
“n-nanami, please..” you can only whisper as he loses control over your captivating scent and hesitating whimpers.
“kento, i said.”
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who asks you to keep talking and explain yourself while his hands run closer to your inner thighs. he has you by the throat again and you’ve forgotten how much you loved the feeling. you want to speak but he has so much power over you.
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who invites himself further, humming every time a reasonable argument comes out of your quivering lips, like he carefully listened and understood, but had lost any will to control himself.
you unwillingly push against his shoulders, deep down knowing that what you’re doing is wrong, but your legs are opening on their own as soon as you feel his hands touch your skin. his touch brings back memories and the nasty and dangerous feelings that you had felt during the whole week come flowing back into your mind.
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who stops when he feels just the tiny bit of resistance from you. you’re trying to stop yourself from falling deeper into his sweet and comforting embrace and it’s taking all of his strength to understand your struggle and back down to let you breathe.
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who can’t help but understand how difficult this situation is for you. it took one whole week off school for you to take a decision and go pay him a visit to explain yourself but all you had accomplished was realizing you were in love with your archeology teacher. a dependent and twisted kind of love.
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who loses his grip on you, a groan of frustration escaping his lips but he looked professional nonetheless. if he wanted you, he would have to find better solutions than to throw himself at your feet.
“i apologize. i don’t know what came over me.”
₊˚ପ⊹ teacher!nanami who saw your deceptive gaze when he stood up and shook his head, disapproving of his own behaviour. you were still shocked by his sudden hunger, and your pussy was pulsating from apprehending pleasure.
“you have to leave.”
and he dared to ask you to leave after waiting thirty minutes after every class to see you, but you could hear restrain in his voice. you knew it was wrong. it was so wrong to entertain this relationship any further but his grasp was tight and you did not want to fight.
“ just call me, please.”
that’s when you stormed out for a second time, with puffy lips and lust in your eyes, promising to come back to his classes if he kept offering you all his love and affection however he wanted to.
© shegetsburned 2024 please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.
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drunkenlionwrites · 8 months
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Spawn!Astarion x reader after the events of BG3
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Warnings: g/n reader, has mild nsfw part, ptsd mentions, past sexual abuse mentions, also spoilers of the ending, obviously.
Astarion is still afraid of depending too much on you - now being unable to step in the sun once again. Sometimes counting days, then weeks, then years holding on to the thought of you getting tired of him and his complications in the back of his head.
Has flashbacks, and occasional visions of Cazador or Godey torturing him when he meditates from time to time, covering his anxiety with the usual bravado in front of you, not wanting to bother you all the time.
Still, he is as open with you as he can get, opening the darkest parts of his life as a spawn to you carefully and slowly.
Now that he’s his own person, there’s only three things he’s pursuing: finding a cure for vampirism, you, and having as much fun as possible, of course!
He likes to spend some nights with you, visiting taverns and showing you with a devilish smile what a good vine is at last. Giddily waiting for your reaction as he watches you bringing the goblet to your lips.
He relishes catching glimpses of him and you while being among people, proudly parading his lover around. Astarion is genuinely admiring you and your beauty, being happy of being seen in your company.
Some days he’s very clingy and handsy, begging for your affections, while other days he might still avoid any physical contact with you. All he needs is more patience, and of course, you have a never-ending well of it when it comes to him.
Totally appreciates when you go hunting with him, whether it’s a wild boar (lol) or an occasional criminal, loving to be able to be seen as a person, not as a monster by you and not afraid of making you feel repulsed by him, though sometimes he still wonders why.
I also can see him occasionally indulging in feeling like a knight in shining armor and a savior of wronged and weak, definitely immensely enjoying cutting throats of people exploiting others in any way.  
NSFW
Now that he’s his own man and he can explore his sexuality freely I believe he’s more into being tender and loving things when it comes to sex, contrary to the popular opinion.
Not that he can’t get freakier on some days. And if you want him to bite you in the process? Who’s he to refuse his darling?
Enjoys hearing your little yelps of pain followed by moans of pleasure when he sinks his teeth in your thighs, wrists, or neck. Wherever is your preference.
He definitely leans more into being a top, not because he’s in the role of seducer, but just preferring to maintain control of the situation.
He also oh so loves the fact that he’s the one that makes your body weak for him, enjoying pulling out all sorts of pretty sounds out of you, enjoying the way you pliantly take everything he gives you. Making you a pouting begging mess, tearfully asking him to give you more, to allow you to come at last not being able to bear his teasing anymore.
Not that Astarion denies you showering him in your tender caress and spending the whole day/night being the one taken care of this time now that he doesn’t have to always be the one to pleasure someone. It’s a novel concept for him and he still feels too bare and vulnerable sometimes, but he learns how to say no if he’s not up to something. It’s so much easier now that you’ve proven to him time and time again that you’ll always listen to him and agree with whatever he wants.
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I've been in love with this man for two years since I've started playing EA, but wanted to postpone writing anything until I see all of his layers. And it's been the best decision ever. I'm such a sucker (😏) for this elf and I still am astonished how nuanced and beautifully portrayed his character is. This is just my first touches of writing him, so it's pretty short and not really explicit.
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pursuitseternal · 1 month
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“Knowledge is a dangerous weapon:” Bookworm!Tav, Vampiric Spawn Powers, and Breeding—“Bites” Update 📚
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Astarion x F!Reader | E | 4.6K of banter and breeding
Based on an anonymous prompt
(HBD @lipstickghoulie )
Summary: You have always loved your books and a challenge, when your Vampire Rogue learns his starvation has kept him from his full powers, you take him up on his challenge to teach him the skills that are his due. As you draw closer together, he finds that one bit of information you have failed to teach him… how to make a dhampire
CW: light mocking of Astarion’s ditziness, Spawn Spidercrawl, catching powers and feelings, flirty touching, creepy silent vampire moves, Breeding talk, no babies just breeding, Mating Press™️
Ao3 link | Series link | Masterlist
📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚
You always knew he was… dumb. Thick headed. Unobservant.
Okay, at times the comments from his thick, rosy lips were just plain stupid. “That lever… must do something…” That was a wonderful moment, one that earned him your eyes rolling so far back in your skull they hurt. “We have some words and some… circles…. Wonder what they do….” Another example of his unparalleled intelligence.
Not to mention the countless times he failed to remember any of the major gods and their shrines as you passed through crypts and defiled chapels.
For as handsome as he was, for as sultry and seductive as you found him, he was… smoothed-brained. But as your journey forced you closer together, you couldn’t help but think some of it may be merely pretense, he was a magistrate after all. He was abused and tortured for centuries, surely that does things to one’s mind. And he was always reading. Every day, every night at camp, his beautiful aquiline nose stuck in a book, crimson eyes devouring the words at a breakneck speed.
One to even rival your own thirst for knowledge.
Maybe it was that you allowed the poor Spawn a chance to drink living, thinking blood for once. Your own. Maybe that was what began to take his little, stupid moments and turn them into something endearing.
Not that he was gracious when you corrected his ignorance. Every time, he gave that adorable, grumpy harumph and then defended his comments, or… since he started feeding from you, he’d just look at your neck still freshly marked and lick his lips. That really shut you up. Set you on fire.
But it wasn’t until you needed him to reach that last little chest up on the crumbling ledge inside some dank cavern that you realized his ignorance wasn’t wholly pretend.
Astarion, vampire spawn, didn’t know just what he should be capable of. He looked positively befuddled when you told him to just climb the brick wall. His sass had been sharp, “I’m not some spider, darling.”
“But you can spider climb, you dolt,” you had laughed imitating his tone, trying to call his bluff on skills he should have, at least according to what you had read in your book. A Spawn should scale such a wall with immense ease.
He just narrowed his crimson eyes at you, a snarl on his lips as he shook his head. “I have never performed such an act, darling, nor have any of my brothers and sisters, those of us Cazador kept for his bidding. Better check your precious facts in your precious tomes before you throw your assumptions on my prowess… dear.”
You still shiver at that night. Back at camp. When you ignored the way he bristled as you approached him in front of his tent. He had sneered at you, readying his next acerbic quip for you… Until you sat so close beside him, settling the heavy book in his lap. Leaning in, you point to the page. Traits and Strengths of the Vampiric Spawn.
You felt him cease breathing, his left hand clutching at the edge of the book growing even whiter. “Astarion,” you breathed. Leaning in more, you looked into his eyes, his gaze scanning the words so quickly on the aged vellum. And then he shoved you by your cheek out of his sightline. He needed to finish this.
“Why, I should be positively remarkable, assuming your book is correct,” he sighed, as if he saw a vision, a dream fulfilled. One where he was powerful.
You nodded as his crimson eyes flashed at you, wide with wonder. “You mentioned Cazador never let you feed enough, and not from thinking creatures.” He nodded, skeptical even as his eyes fixated on your lips. “Well, what you did not know was that denying you a sufficient diet meant also restricting you from your full powers, even as a Spawn, Astarion. You should be able to climb up walls and ceilings, move swifter, lift boulders too much for even Karlach to manage. You should be able to heal almost instantaneously, without potion or feeding.”
“And now?” he replied, that little tremor of hope in his voice unmistakable as his hand traced over the page of your book.
“Well, it’s a difficult deduction, since you have our unwelcome illithid parasite. But now that you are feeding regularly, even from thinking creatures, you should find the effects more than just making you feel… happy,” you rambled on. Even as you kept talking, his eyes glued their gaze to your neck, your lips. If you weren’t mistaken, they even dipped down the v-shaped cut of your tunic.
“So… the more I drink from thinking creatures, the stronger and more powerful I will be?” he murmured, a slight grit in his throat as his eyes definitely darted down your bosom now.
“Y-yes,” you rejoined, sliding back just a touch.
And he slid that touch closer, and then some.
“You’ll help me, won’t you, darling? You’ll help me learn these skills? Give me all I require to access my full potential….” His eyes looked wet, the ruby irises glowing in the flickering firelight. “Please?” he adds with that smirk and that single arching brow of his made you stomach flutter and heart thump so hard in your chest.
“I…” you started, but he only seemed to lean ever closer.
“You know, when I was a Magistrate, back in the City, I would have craved someone with intelligence like yours. We would have been rivals, colleagues…” his eyes dip once more shamelessly up and down your seated body. “Perhaps lovers even,” he breathed. “I always surrounded myself with those of highest intellect, darling. Intelligence is so… undervalued by many, and knowledge is a dangerous weapon, but I see you, my darling. Won’t you please come to my aid now?”
“We… we can try,” you had whispered, barely able to the let the words from your lips with how you seemed to seize under the intensity of his stare.
“Wonderful,” he purred, catching your cheek, your chin in his cool palm. “I just hope we don’t have to wait too long…”
You squirmed as his thumb began to brush beneath your lip.
“…to put my new strengths to the test I mean, of course.” He smirked that little bit more twistedly. More seductively. And you knew he heard your heart beating in your artery, your blood rushing under his touch in your veins to pool lower. It was his nature, and you knew more of it than he did.
“Of course…” you breathed. “I’d be happy to help.”
“Then it’s settled,” his voice was thick in his throat, you relished the way his other arm stole around you, clutching at you back to bring you all the closer under his heady spell of charm and seduction. “All that’s left is to seal our new arrangement somehow…”
He pushed that heavy book off his lap, sliding to bring you into completely flushed against him. You’re sure your pulse was raging so loudly, it’s deafened his pointed and twitching ears. That chilled, corpse-cold touch under your chin tilts you up just… so…
You melted, closing that distance between your lips. Every logical thought dispersed in the wind of your desire, that panting breath that passed from your lungs into his.
That’s how this all began, and where it had brought you to this moment, where he clings to the ceiling of a massive cavern filled with both the stink of Gnolls and the vile creatures themselves. Dagger gripped in between his glinting fangs. He readies himself with a look of pure and dark excitement. He loves this. He misses this when it’s just you all back in the quiet of camp, where he tests his ever growing strength and climbing abilities, where he drinks from you every night before he hunts in the dark.
Where he slowly makes you more and more aware of your awakening body the more he touches you and caresses and kisses you. Always every night. Always between your increasingly intellectual discussions about vampiric powers and the moment he sinks his fangs into your skin to feed. He always leaves you after dark, his own belly sated, while you… you grow all the hungrier. Needier. You want more debate, more analysis, more of his body covering yours as he drinks you down.
But not anything more. Not yet. Even as you knew he was edging closer to asking you for sex. Even if he didn’t know all the… implications. After all, knowledge was a dangerous weapon.
You shake your head to free yourself from the longing thoughts of past nights and burning expectations of the night to come. You give him the signal, watching him release with flawless precision, dagger in hand now, as he falls from his spider-perch.
The Gnolls never see you coming, not before your endearingly ferocious Vampire Spawn lands with preternatural grace on their heads and vivisects them before you even reach their location.
He pants as you get at least one good shot from your bow, right for the last twitching body on the ground.
It’s not until you smile, satisfied, you notice that Astarion’s pale skin is riddled with scratches and tears from the beasts’ claws. He holds out his arms, rolling up his sleeves and smiling. Enjoying the sight of his vampiric body healing before his eyes. That crimson gaze practically glows as he looks at you over the carnage. “See something you like, my sweet?” he purrs, arching that brow, just for you, as if the others in your party aren’t even there.
“Ahem,” you clear your throat, turning to find the coveted chest of supplies, that Zhentarim sigil on it is no deterrent to you. Not when your Vampire Spawn can charm anyone to do anything now. “We better head back to camp,” you kneel before the strong chest, trying your hand to pick the iron lock.
“Tch,” his voice brushes your ear, physically tickling the small stray hairs that make you gasp. “You know I’m far more skilled with my fingers, especially when it comes to slipping inside…” You shudder to feel him crouching right behind you, his thighs pressed against your ass, his waist brushing your lower back. “…Slipping inside chests, locks, that sort of thing,” he adds louder, just to appease your unease. That dexterous touch has only grown all the smoother and stronger and sneakier now that he has fed well for a while.
He is so sneaky in fact, only one of his hands actually works the lock pick for a moment, the other quickly skates up your leg, tracing the inner seam of your buckskin breeches almost to the peak of your thigh. He laughs in your ear as you muffle a noise under your own palm.
“Soldiers, you really need four hands to pick one lock? Haven't you gotten better, Fangs, now that our fearless leader has let you suck on her and tutor you in being a Spawn?” Karlach chortles, her feet swaying side to side in that perpetual motion dance she seems to do.
“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Astarion throws the barb over his shoulder, letting you bury your face to hide the tweaks of ecstasy at the corners of your eyes as his fingers keep moving higher… higher. “Some silent performance only you get to savor, it seems?”
“If I didn't know better…” Gale’s pedantic voice draws closer.
“There now,” Astarion crows like the proudest rooster of them all, his hand quickly leaving the edge of your mound to twist that pick and pop the lock just as Gale peers from behind. “Look at all this loot,” he groans and stands, satisfied as he folds his arms over his chest. “Good thing you have a strong, well-fed Vampire to bring it back with us. Wouldn’t you agree, darling?”
He smirks down at you, hand extended to help you to your feet. Back to the rest, he flashes you that fang-toothed smirk that he knows sets your pulse galloping out of control. Pulling you up, he has to steady you in your legs, near boneless as they are with just that tease of pleasure. “Calm yourself darling, you're making my undead heart hurt sympathetically from all that… excitement,” he rasps right into your ear once you’re on your feet before him, releasing you in favor of bags of treasure and potions and loot to stuff in his pack.
Your mind is racing as your trod back towards your little camp well off the Risen Road for good measure. Thoughts scramble, worries peak their heads up, and you can’t stop thinking about the rest of what you have learned reading about vampires. Necessary research for you, particularly since Astarion has seemingly added flirtation and seduction into your witty repartee this last tenday. So far, you’ve managed to keep his wandering eyes from those pages when he glances through your tomes. He seems to prefer every little dip of your skin where he can see it at any rate. So far, you’ve managed to keep his hands in places on your body that are not too dangerous, yours on his as well.
But something inside you knows that tide is shifting. He wants to offer you more in exchange for more… and… well, if it doesn’t just make your body thrum with life in ways no books had and no previous interests had either.
He has beaten you back to camp, haphazardly tossed the loot for the rest of you to sort out in the center of camp. You know he’s waiting in his tent, now that the sun has begun to trek lower and lower. It’s time for your research, for your indulgence of his strength, and… whatever else might happen.
His tent is dimly lit as you enter, a mess of blankets and pillows, some fine and some in tatters. Stacks of books in the corners have replaced the blood bank bottles you first found here to clutter his space.
But no Astarion.
You tilt your head confused, settling down on one pillow, more or less intact, reaching for an apple he keeps in his stash of food just for you. Just to replenish you between his own feedings. As you bite into the hard skin, as the juice fills your mouth, you reach for a book, some ancient law book he found in the ruins of that village. Must make him think of his old life.
The pages are old and soft in your fingers, your eyes absentmindedly skimming the long words and complex sentences as you chew.
Peaceful. Until you realize it’s far too quiet.
You feel the hairs on the back of your neck prickle, that feeling of being watched creeping up your spine. Turning, mid bite, you peer into the shadowed corner of his tent behind you.
Two glowing red eyes stare at you from the dark, just a hint of glinting teeth as he smiles and drinks in your fear and surprise. He laughs to hear you hiss as you jump in your seat. “There you are,” he croons from his darkened corner. “I’ve been waiting.”
“F-f-for what?” you force a smile and force your breath to steady all at once. He slides closer, settling down right beside you, and you notice your worn book in his hand, the smile on his face is sultry.
And predatory.
And for a moment, you regret teaching him as much as you have about his untapped powers.
“When were you going to tell me about your little bit of… research… on the side?” his voice is chilling, his brow arching as he flips the book open right to the back.
Right where you had been trying so hard to prevent his eyes from skimming, his ambitious brain from devouring the knowledge.
Your body is hot and rigid, and you know from the way his pointy ears twitch, he hears your pulse. You know from the way that his nostrils flare that he smells your arousal, the slick that dampens your underthings just to be this close to him again after his little stunt today.
“If my observations are correct… and they usually are…” he purrs, even though the stack of evidence to the contrary is vast. But you bite your tongue as he continues, your heart leaping at the topic he is about to breach. “You sound and smell eager to discuss this topic if dhampires, my darling.”
You swallow, watching so heated and frozen as he slides so gracefully to place the weight of that tome in your own lap, his fingers removing the half-eaten apple from your fingers to toss to the side. Then he brings their sticky, juicy tips to his mouth to suck them clean.
You moan, unbidden, at the wet and vigor with which his tongue cleans every crevice of those digits.
“Now, I’d hate to be left wondering just why my intelligent, little darling would withhold such a vital… potent… part of my unrevealed powers as a vampire?” he sets your hand back on your thigh, a little extra brush of his fingers, returning to trace that seam inside your breaches as he had before. “Is she… curious? Afraid? Is this why she has been just so hesitant during our…” he grips your chin, turning your head with commanding force until there is nowhere else to look but his deep crimson eyes, “…late night trysts?”
“It’s not something one just… brings up, Astarion,” you try to flatten your tone, even as that one hand still traces up and around your thigh. “It’s just not… done…”
Something about his eyes softens, “It would be important to discuss, you know, for there is more that I would like to share with you than just witty banter and blood…” his tone dips low into a rumble. “It’s not something I would have known, not a concern I would have shared until I knew of it…”
“There’s more to it than you might know,” you squeak as his fingers press into that slot between your legs. “Now that you’re well-fed, you’ll feel actual….”
You swallow the word. His touch presses hard enough into your folds through your breaches to make them soaked. And you, wanton you, you give a breath and a buck of your hips to keep his fingers there.
“Pleasure,” he smirks, eyes scanning your face as your force your eyes back open, halfway at least. “Yes, I gathered as much. The more I feed, the more I come alive… alive enough to perhaps even bestow a new life…” he squints a grin at you, your mouth slack as he draws that touch just as hard again, “…perhaps one day.”
You arch your body, trying to slip closer. Your secret is out, your anxious thoughts over clandestine information dispersed in the air. And so, the next words from your mouth just build on all that you had been swallowing down.
“Yes, perhaps one day…” you sigh, leaning back on your hands to try to give him full access to your cunt. “Perhaps one day, we could test out those powers together.” Your voice shakes with excitement, it’s pressed with the sincerity you feel for him.
“Oh, my love,” he smirks and reaches both arms around your waist. That newfound strength pulls you flush into his lap, until your molten, silk-soaked center presses against where he’s hardening. “You always know what to say… Seems like quite the power that will take much preparation and proper timing…” He brings your fingers back to his lips as he kisses them softly. “I’d have to feed on more than just a bear and more than just sips from my little treat, sweet as you are…”
You nod, once or twice, before losing yourself in the bliss of his tongue on the tingling inner skin of your wrist. Barely more than a lap before his fangs pierce your skin and suck you down. Your very essence, your living blood pools in his belly, you feel it coursing in his veins. It fills him and hardens him beneath your hips in an instant.
“Well, practice makes perfect you know,” he croons, bloodied lips barely hovering off your own. “I can tell from your scent you are not… in season…. And I have only had the single little taste.”
You pant, writhing at the scratch of your clothing, you long to rip it off and toss it where your book has long since been abandoned. “Sounds right to me,” you hiss, arms tucking around his neck to lower those arrogant stupidly handsome lips to your mouth.
Astarion’s throat rumbles with a growl, the taste of your blood fresh in his mouth as he rolls you on your back. Primal. Feral. He’s your powerful vampire, blood in his body, lust in his brain. And you want to put it all to the test—your own little experiment to match his enthusiastic desire for you. His touch is lightening fast and strong, pulling off your clothing, swift and sure and careful until every inch of your bodies are bare.
Strength hums in his muscles, even as his hands gently caress your cheek, your neck still sore from all his feeding. His body presses you into the pile of blankets that cover his plank of a bed. His hips grind your belly, your thighs are pulled almost against your chest until you’re spread wide open for him. But for every jolt of his cock as it prods above you and drips his early cum on to your belly, his kisses on your lips are sweet, gentle. A silent movement of gratitude for all your willing aid. Those fingers drag their slightly warmed touch around your breast, kneading it tenderly. With every arch of your back, you can almost catch the base of his cock inside your folds.
And you shake. You quiver. You’d had a few lovers, mostly boring and few and far between. But never has your body burned for anyone like it does for him.
As if his vampire touch is calling your blood to pool beneath it. Not one traditional strength, but with Astarion, you aren’t totally sure he doesn’t have some unnatural ability to command your body. To make your blood pound and sing just for him.
“What a good girl,” he rasps, a grind of his hips to send that cock near your navel, over your skin. “I can feel your heat for me from here. Just waiting to be fucked full.” His mouth descends quickly but carefully, only taking a single nipple in his lips. Sucking hard, he pops off with a loud wet noise.
Almost as loud as your moan.
“So ready, aren’t you?” His question weighs you down, your eyes half shut to savor the way he drags back with that length, sliding it in just an inch or so into your aching sex. “I’m waiting…” he growls, and you sob as he pulls even that little bit of his tip back out.
“Yes, hells below, yes,” you pant, hands flying to claw into his ass. Pulling him towards your throbbing core.
That blunted tip prods just barely inside you again. “You want me to fill you?” he rasps.
You nod, your teeth biting your lip hard enough to bleed.
“You want me to fill your belly like you let me fill mine with your sweet blood?” he grips his arms around your shoulders, pressing harder into, cock sliding in another little bit. “Fuck you so many times, my cum will drip from you for days?”
“Yes, Astarion…” you breathe, his mouth devouring your words, ready to swallow your cry as he does, finally, fill you.
You feel the gravity of his body crushing you, his legs braced with every tendon taught as he snaps his hips into. It’s so deep, so driving the way he fucks. And every thrust slaps your flesh and smacks his balls against your ass, but you love it. His breath dampens your collarbone, arms wrapped so tightly around you, you can do nothing but hold on for dear life. Your thighs burn from how they’re bent into your stomach almost, your folds leaking with arousal, and the drag of his cock touches every part of your walls and slams against your channel’s end.
He licks your shoulder, wet tongue lapping up to the artery in your neck. Where it pulses and dances in time with his beat inside you. Flushed and boiling, speared on his length, you pant, suffocated deliciously until you burst. Your visions swimming and muscles contorting in his press, you scream for him. You can hear your arousal, your slick, coating his thighs as his thrusts only increase with speed.
Lifting his head, he sweeps a hand down your sweat-drenched belly, palm bracing just below your navel. His push is relentless, hard and gradual enough you feel it behind your belly, how he gives you resistance from outside against that constant ramming of his cock at your deepest point. It’s enough to throw you into another coil of bliss instantly. “Good girl, so wet and dirty and waiting to be filled…'' he finally speaks through his panting. And he pushes on your belly once more, grunting with each fuck as he comes undone.
As he thrusts and spills his seed, prodding the full length of him to the deepest point yet. You can feel it almost sticking through your skin as he pulses. As he spills, burst after burst, he still rams that end of your cunt.
Beads of sweat drip from his forehead as he looks down your body, and how your skin is wet and flushed and marked from where he gripped you so fiercely.
He smiles and licks his lips. You try to clamber out, but his hand only comes to rest on your shoulder. “Ah ah,” he tutts his tongue at you, slipping out, only to take two of his fingers to play in your mix of cum, slipping it back inside you over and over again. “You’ll need to practice too, and you’ll need to rest to keep all of me inside of you.”
You shudder, a smile wide on your mouth, aroused and embraced, half hidden behind the back of your hand as you cover your face.
“Tch,” he chides you, pulling that hand from your face, “none of that, my darling. I’ll watch every bit of your blush darken your cheek until you’re ready to go again.”
“Again?” you choke. Your hips already feeling stretched and sore, you lay them flat and try to ease the aches.
“Oh yes,” he purrs, “you’ll have to build your strength the old fashioned way, my treat. Now,” he gives your ass a little smack on the side as he lifts it, “on your knees, darling…”
You finally take a breath, freed from his wiry, heavy frame. One cool hand settles between your shoulder blades to have you rest your head on his bedding. But that other hand pulls your hips up, slipping through your juices and teasing your clit until you buck back against his belly. You breathe contentedly, savoring the way his fingers caress you, worship you.
You close your eyes, wriggle your hips, already craving that stretching fullness inside you. A future with him at your side during the day as your strong, well fed vampire… and on your back and knees and belly and any way he would want you during the long nights with your virile lover.
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tinfairies · 8 months
Note
So
About the Spice Prompt List 😶‍🌫️
4, 31, 40
Aaand character sugestions: Law, Luffy, Shanks
Please
Monkey D. Luffy, Shanks x AFAB!Reader
Exhibitionism, vibrators, orgasm denial
AN: I left out Law because I haven't seen the anime in years and I'm afraid I'll butcher him horribly
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Monkey D. Luffy
He'd really done it this time. Luffy tries to be a good boy, but it's hard. Especially when he's bored, which is almost all the time.
You can't get anything done when he's hounding you for attention, so you get an idea.
"I want to play a game."
Luffy is excited by this idea, but he's going to be sorely disappointed when he realizes your full plan.
He's laid on his back in bed, a bullet vibe tied the tip of his cock, and it's been set to high.
You told him that if could hold his orgasm until you're done with work, then he can fuck you all night long.
Luffy didn't think of the technicalities of that agreement before he was nodding eagerly and pulling his clothes off.
You're sat at the desk across the room, finishing something or other. Truth be told, the work had been finished nearly 30 minutes ago, but you just wanted to torment Luffy a little longer.
He'd been a whining mess since the beginning, but after about 15 minutes of his cock throbbing and bouncing against his stomach, he began to beg.
"Please, please. Can't I just touch myself? I can make myself cum, you don't have to touch me!"
You reminded him of the agreement which earned a loud cry from him. It was hard not to give in, you'd stolen glances at him as you worked. The sight was absolutely divine.
His tummy was soaked in precum and his cock looked painfully hard and red. The sheets beneath him were wrinkled from how tightly he gripped them. Part of the agreement was not being able to touch himself.
You're shocked he'd actually lasted this long. You expected him to have cum all over himself within minutes, but he's determined to prove how much of a good boy he is.
Maybe you'll stop torturing him and let him finally drain his balls.
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Shanks
"Started without me princess?"
His voice startles you, and you stare at him wide eyed.
Shanks is leaned against the doorframe, staring you down, a smirk on his lips and a devilish glint in his eyes.
You pull the vibrator from your clit, expecting him to come to you and make you feel good. He just clicks his tongue.
"No no, if you're start without me then you're gonna finish without me."
He sets himself in the chair by the desk, looking at you expectantly. You feel like prey under the eyes of a predator.
"Well? Show me how you get yourself off."
You press the vibrator against yourself again, your hips jolt as it hits your clit. The delicious waves of pleasure washing over your body once more.
Your thighs are wet with slick and sweat and you close your legs to feel more friction. Shanks narrows his eyes at this, "Darling, how am I gonna be able to see that beautiful, dripping cunt of yours if I you got your legs shut?"
He moves forward and grabs your knees, spreading you open and smirking at the sight.
"That feel good princess? Better than my fingers?"
You quickly shake your head 'no' and a whine leaves your lips as your orgasm draws near. Your wrist swivels the vibrator and you gasp at the pleasure.
Shanks admires your body, sliding his hands up your thighs and using his thumbs to spread your folds.
"Fuck that's good."
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