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fangswbenefits · 6 months

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Unexpected

Summary: Astarion has barely ever considered starting a family with you in the old-fashioned way, but an unexpected conversation might just trigger that urge.

Pairing: Astarion x femalex!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Breeding kink. Creampie. P in V sex. Body worship. Vampire bite. Blood drinking. Precum.

Word count: 2.2k

As far as Astarion was concerned, babes were merely drool and poop dispensers.

He could definitely do without having to be around one for more than the strictly necessary.

And today was one of those days.

You had offered to look after one of your friend's toddler, but he had somehow been left on duty as you worked around the kitchen.

Typical.

He glared at the tiny human that stood on his thighs, wobbling dangerously and was only kept upright thanks to his firm hold.

Astarion glanced around to ensure that you weren't nearby before he mischievously bared his fangs at the baby.

He expected fear or a screech.

But no.

She merely glared at him for a brief moment before bursting into a high-pitched laughter that pierced through his ears and made him wince in pain.

Had it not been for his fast reflexes, she would have had her tiny and prying paws inside his mouth as she tried to reach for his fangs.

“No – these are no toy,” he grumbled in utmost annoyance.

You walked into the room, straightening your dress whilst giving him a taunting glare. “Look at you! Bonding.”

He held the babe as far as he could from his face as she giggled enthusiastically, clearly finding in him some amusement.

He scoffed. “Please. Even the Nine Hells can't be as torturous as this.”

Clicking your tongue, you approached to sweep her into your arms, which caused an infernal reaction from her as she broke into a screech that would put a banshee to shame.

“See? She prefers Uncle Astarion.”

He rolled his eyes, returning his focus on the book had been peacefully enjoying before this unfortunate ordeal.

As you managed to quiet her down by shifting her attention to a stuffed owl bear toy, two soft knocks were heard on the front door.

Finally.

You allowed your friend inside who promptly took her babe in her arms.

“Please tell me she behaved,” she said apologetically. “She's teething and her temper can be overbearing at times.”

“It was no bother. She was absolutely delightful and even bonded with Uncle Astarion.”

She chuckled alongside you.

He could feel a frown grow on his face as she turned to him. “How come you two haven't considered having one of your own?”

Astarion's eyes nearly bulged out.

“Oh, it has never crossed our minds, really,” you immediately blurted out, pinching the babe's cheeks affectionately. “We're better off this way.”

Now that set him off.

“Actually, I have considered it.”

Far more often than he dared admitting, but it was not more than wishful thinking.

He was fortunate enough not to worry about unwanted pregnancies, as being a vampire spawn made the feat nigh impossible.

But he still wondered how you'd look carrying his child.

Especially with you being such the motherly type.

His eyes fell to your heaving chest for a moment, and he vaguely imagined how your breasts would swell.

“Oh? You have?” you sounded more surprised than shocked.

Your friend shifted a glance between you and him. “I'm sure Astarion here would warm up to the idea fast – so to speak.”

How he detested puns.

Once she bid her farewell and you parted ways with a gentle kiss to the babe's temple, he found himself content as silence took over.

“You meant that?”

He pressed the book in his hands closed. “Us having a child?”

You nodded.

“I don't see why not.”

You began undoing the laces of your dress as you paced into the room.

“Well, it's not like we can physically do it.”

Astarion stood on his feet, following you closely behind.

“We can.”

Your head turned abruptly to him. “You're just having a laugh, aren't you?”

Astarion had read enough about half-vampires – dhampirs – to know it wasn't as hard to achieve as one might think.

He would just need to be very persistent and be well fed.

“It is possible.”

You chuckled. “I think we would be on babe number four if it were truly possible.”

As he walked up behind you, he planted a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, moving his masterful fingers down the lacing of your corset.

He adored having you wear the most exquisite clothes he could embroider for you, but he equally adored helping you get undressed.

Just for him.

“But the real question, darling, is… would you want me to?”

As the corset loosened around you, he could see your breasts expand into fullness.

“Want what?”

The chemise underneath hid most of them from sight, but he could see your nipples faintly protruding against the sheet fabric.

He could feel himself already hardening from the topic of the conversation alone.

“Do you want me to breed you?”

His blunt words made you gasp. “You always come inside, Astarion… and nothing happens.”

Was that disappointment he detected in your voice?

Gods above…

That only served to fuel his lust.

You stepped out of your crimson dress and he shifted languidly until he was on his knees in front of you.

“What are you doing?”

He lifted your chemise just above your navel, and trailed soft kisses along your lower abdomen, feeling you occasionally flinching under his cold lips.

Your fingers tangled in his curls as a soft gasp left your lips. “Astarion?”

He did his best to ignore the ever-growing twitch against his trousers.

“Maybe we should rectify this predicament.”

You ran the pads of your fingers along his scalp in such a loving manner that he found himself humming in approval as his cold lips began to travel downwards.

“And how could you even do such a thing?”

Oh. You still thought he was bullshitting you?

He glared up at you with half-hooded eyes. “Hold on to that pole and place your leg on my shoulder.”

Astarion took pride in being a giving and caring lover who resorted to words laced with sensuality, to get you all worked up for him.

You arched a brow at him, but held onto the iron rod of the bed canopy while lifting your leg and resting it on his shoulder.

From this new angle, he was able to spot a growing damp spot in your underwear that nearly made him salivate.

The fabric clung to your folds, allowing him to spot the outline of your throbbing swell.

It seemed that your body was already getting ready for what was to come.

Hungrily, he leaned forward to place an open-mouthed kiss on the already damp fabric.

You bucked your hips instinctively against him as he teased your folds with his tongue.

He felt the first drops of precum staining his own clothes, and had no choice but to undo the lacing at the front so he could ease the unbearable strain.

The heel of your foot dug into his back as he kept adding more dampness to your underwear with his saliva, enjoying the sight of the outline of your folds.

With one hand firmly closed around his cock, he moved his lips to your inner thigh, earning a groan of protest from you.

He chuckled against your heated skin, squeezing some more precum from his tip, enjoying how it dribbled down his knuckles.

“Stop teasing…” you groaned, softly tugging at his curls.

But Astarion had something else in mind.

“I should be well fed before attempting this, if the words on those books and scrolls are to be trusted.”

A soft whimper spilled from your mouth and you pulled your underwear to the side with a sigh of relief.

But Astarion found no relief in that as he couldn't tear his eyes away from your soaked folds and the swell that peeked between them.

His cock gave him a warning twitch, as more precum dribbled outs from the tip.

You had broken his concentration with a low blow, but he still managed to part his lips, raking his fangs across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“You've… never….” you gasped in astonishment as the realisation of his intentions hit you.

“There's a first time for everything, darling.”

Unlike your delectable neck, he had no experience catching your pulse in this area, so he had to drag his lips slowly, in search of that rhythmic pulsing that drove him insane.

“Astarion…” you moaned, rolling your hips.

Once he found what he was looking for, he dragged his tongue along the sweet spot before sinking his fangs into it.

He had anticipated you would squirm under his touch, so he anchored you in place by hooking his arm around your thigh.

Astarion reckoned he would never tire of feeling how hard and warm his cock would get whenever he fed on you, your blood rushing through his body like molten fire.

As he kept downing your blood and keeping you steady, he began to feel the veins that snaked around his cock bulging and he nearly lost it.

Your fingers were still buried in his hair, tugging firmly as your hips rolled on pure instinct.

Through his bloodlust, he managed to shift his gaze only to be met with strings of your wetness dangling from the entrance.

Gods… you were so ready to be bred.

He could feel your arousal.

He could taste it on his tongue.

His hand was doing an adequate job at giving his now heated cock some relief, but he knew he would only find true solace in being buried deep inside you.

Your blood had begun to spill from the corners of his mouth and he felt it trailing down his chin and neck.

With all the willpower he could muster in that moment of blinding hunger, he managed to tear away from you skin, rising to his feet as your leg dropped from his shoulder only to be caught on his arm, effectively keeping you spread for him.

His cock accidentally brushed against the twin marks on your inner thigh, blood coating the leaking tip of his cock.

He let out a hiss as the warm liquid dribbled down his length, mixing with his precum.

Your hand dropped to the back of his neck and you pulled him into a searing kiss, tasting yourself on his soaked lips.

With ease, he shifted closer until the tip of his cock was nudging at your entrance.

You broke the kiss. “Do you think you drank enough?”

His cock twitched violently from the despair in your words.

“There is only one way to find out, darling.”

You licked your lips, jerking your hips to have his tip slide inside.

Then he felt your hand snake in between your bodies until your fingers were wrapped around his length, giving it a trying squeeze.

“You're so, so hard, Astarion…”

Astarion could get even harder just from your praise.

His cock twitched again and he couldn't stop his hips from bucking, gradually burying himself deep within your warmth.

He sank all the way through, bringing his other hand to close around the one you had around the iron rod of the canopy, desperate for support as he thrusted into you.

Soon enough, you had matched his tempo, moving in unison with him.

From this angle, he could see the faint streaks of blood spread around his cock as it spread your folds, allowing him to see how swollen you were for him.

“So eager to be bred, aren't you?” he said in between groans.

You whimpered in response, unbuttoning the front of your chemise.

Astarion nearly came as your bare breasts came into view, swaying with each thrust. Your nipples had hardened completely and he felt his balls tighten.

“I want to see how big they will get.” he moaned more to himself, knowing he was getting closer and closer to his release.

Your mouth fell open but no words came out.

Instead, he felt you squeeze his cock desperately, drawing a primal growl from deep within him.

He truly wanted to know how bigger your breasts would get from carrying his child.

His balls tightened even harder and he felt the familiar wave of overwhelming release wash over his body.

He somehow managed to keep his gaze on your swaying breasts as he spilled deep inside you, feeling his cum shooting rhythmically inside you.

Desperate to feel your own contractions, he placed his thumb between your folds, circling your swell and slowly but surely driving you over the edge.

“Let go, darling…” he urged desperately, wanting the last drops of his seed to be milked out of him forcefully by your contractions.

As your breath quickened and your arms looped around his neck, he knew you were a goner.

You stilled momentarily, rhythmically contracting around him with a gasp.

He glanced down to see the bulging veins along his cock being squeezed as cum began to spill out around him.

Astarion had no idea how much cum he had spilled inside you, but what he did know was that he would gladly spend it all if it meant getting you pregnant with his child.

As you shuddered against him, he placed a soft kiss to your temple.

“Do you think it was enough?”

He chuckled. “I won't stop until it is.”

Masterlist

#astarion smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #astarion x oc #astarion x f!reader #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion bg3

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orchidyoonkook · 7 months

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The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG

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.

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.....

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.”

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.

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.”

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

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navstuffs · 7 months

Text

The Visitor

Pairing: Incubus!Leon Kennedy x GNSupernaturalHunter!Reader

Summary: Your mom always told you to find allies between your enemies - but your incubus consultant, Leon Kennedy, wants to be more than that.

Warning tags: SMUT with gn!reader so MINORS DNI,frenemies to lovers, sexual tension, masturbation, oral sex, penetration, excessive cum (its my headcanon for incubus so), jealousy sex (sorta)

Author's tags: we are the end of my halloween challenge! thank you so much for everyone who supported me. i am so freaking proud and happy with myself that i finally got to finish ONE thing that i commited! last one has to be smut. happy halloween!! enjoy your reading!

my halloween's masterlist

Rain starts as you drive to your home. It has been one heck of a night. The streets are empty as they should be at 2 a.m., but your senses are on high alert. You blame your genetics: coming from a legendary lineage of supernatural hunters, you were expected to become one from your early age, liking or not. It was in your blood. The problem? To be able to sniff other supernatural beings with that same skill prompts your social and love life to be awkward sometimes.

Take tonight as an example: first date with a nice fellow you met on a dating app. When you arrived, your sixth sense instantly picked a creature nearby; you shouldn't be surprised, but obviously, it came from your date. The man, a recently transformed werewolf, ended up reacting to your dangerous smell. And what was supposed to be an excellent night with you fucking your brains out ended up with an awkward goodbye, together with the silent promise of never seeing each other again.

As you park your car in front of your house, you rest your head on your wheel. It had been like this for a while: you met a nice person until you found out they were friends with a vampire or a family member who was a banshee. Your romantic life was nonexistent, which your mom would approve of: "We must remain sharp. No time for this romance bs." Says the woman who almost ran away with a vampire as a teenager.

You are so focused on your thoughts you don't pick up the familiar sensation stinging in your chest as you should. You had been around him so long that your body had started not to react in alert when you were near him. It's almost as if you are getting comfortable.

You exit your car, covering your eyes against the rain, which is getting stronger. You notice the familiar figure sitting on the steps of your porch. He has his hood on, his face partially obscured by the darkness, but you would know him from anywhere: Leon Kennedy. The incubus, you sometimes have the displeasure to work with him. You sigh, wondering what he was doing there so late.

As you approach the entrance, Leon raises his head, and you are met with a pair of enchanted blue eyes. You can feel your stomach twist in a way you are used to by now. It is not technically his fault: Leon needs to have this effect on people if he wants to feed. His eyes start from your head to your well-dressed figure, then your legs, and return to your face. You decide to ignore that and the way your body has warmed up.

"What is it? This better be important." You scoff, and Leon finally gets up, opening a small smile.

"Am I not always important?" Leon chuckles, crossing his arms, a smug smile on his lips. Attractive bastard, you think.

"Yeah, sure, sure. What is it, Kennedy?"

"And where did you come from? A date?"

"Kennedy, I really don't have time for that." You answer, impatient. Your body is telling you to get away from the "monster," and you have to trust your instincts. You search for your house key, walking past Leon and ignoring how inviting he looks tonight.

"Werewolf this time? At least it wasn't a ghoul like last time," Leon teases you, walking up behind you. You look back at him, furious, after opening the door of your house, and Leon raises his arms in a sign of defeat. "I am kidding."

"No, you are wasting my time. Goodnight, Kennedy." As you try to close the door on his face, Leon stops it. You look at him like he has gone crazy, caught off guard by the look you are met back: hungry as a hunter staring at his defenseless prey.

The rational part of you wants to tell Leon to fuck off and close the door on his face. Advising you to remain unaffected if Leon is trying to seduce you now. But you are so tired tonight that you let the irrational one speak. The one that is needy for some sort of human contact tonight. Even if it's from a freaking demon, who pisses the crap out of you.

And to not help, the next time Leon speaks is in a much more vulnerable tone.

"Can I come in?"

Your mom's biggest piece of advice? That you should always find allies between your enemies. They were always traitor among their kind. You and Leon met by accident three years ago. Like most sex demons, he would prey on his victims in places with a strong sexual desire, like strip clubs, bars, or regular clubs.

You were there trying to find another sex demon who was killing his victims after sex, instead finding yourself in the middle of a fight between two very hungry incubus. You should have had an easy time, but a bigger fight started amongst the humans present as well. It was a mess.

Leon helped you, to your surprise. You realized he was an incubus as soon as he grabbed your hand to get you out of the middle of the mess. Your body reacted as it should to his presence: you pulled your hand away, disgusted, but simultaneously, you were affected (and you knew it). Usually, you shouldn't remain unaffected by their extreme sexual energy (they were created for that), but with Leon, it was different. You didn't know why. Leon offered to help find this killer incubus, which proved to be an easier task with him at your side.

And now you could consider him your partner. A very annoying, sexy, good-looking sex demon partner who always looked at your body with interest when he thought you weren't looking.

Like right now. You ignore again your rational part as you bend over to find a bottle of water by the fridge. If Leon's eyes are on your ass or not, you don't really care. It is your fault for letting him inside your house anyway.

"Again, what do you need, Kennedy?" You ask as you close the fridge door with a bump. Leon is resting against the kitchen counter, the hood down. His dirty blonde hair is by his shoulders now, much longer than you first met.

"Decided to go for a bike ride late at night. Couldn't sleep."

"Oh? And you are telling me that because? Are we friends or something?" Leon ignores the irony in your voice, a small smile on his lips. You wait.

"No, we are not."

"Good, because-"

"I don't want to be your friend, anyway." Leon declares a somber tone in his voice. It's that same feeling you have had many times near Leon: he is trying to take down your defense walls, one by one. Wanting for you to feel anything other than danger.

"I see. The feeling is mutual." You whisper back, clearly affected this time. Leon starts approaching you slowly. When he stops before you, your back against the cold fridge. There is nowhere to run from his blue eyes. You can't move or don't want to move.

"What do you truly want?" You murmur again, afraid of the answer. Leon places each arm to your sides, caging your body with his. You have never felt so scared before, but not in the wrong way. Never felt so small. So powerless. Passing control to someone else shouldn't feel so easy.

"What do you think I want?" He tilts his head to one side, tempting you to answer. You bite your lips, wanting to close your eyes but keeping them locked on his. You can still pull him away, your rational part suggests. Pull him away and never see Leon Kennedy again. But do you truly want that?

"This is a trick." You place your hands on Leon's chest. Either stopping or grabbing it, you don't know. You close your eyes, shaking your head, refusing to see, to feel what is right in front of you: Leon Kennedy wants you.

You were doomed from the start as soon as you let him in. Not here, not today, but from the club. From accepting his hand, reaching out to you.

You know that getting too close to the sun could eventually burn. You have known since the first meeting that allowing Leon Kennedy into your life would be trouble. The wet dreams about him, the fact you would get jealous every time he went out for "a meal." You tried to deny for a long time, ignore, and kill those feelings that only grew stronger. Because who would be stupid enough to fall in love with an incubus?

"Open your eyes." Leon's smooth voice commands, and you still fight again, your body urging you to obey him. Tired of resisting, you open to find him just inches away from your face, his lips close enough so you can finally kiss them. "I can give you what you want. You wouldn't have to go scoping around searching for it. I can leave you breathless. I can give you all the pleasure you deserve and much more."

Leon's voice sounds like butter. This is it: you are into the incubus enchantment. You are melting inside, your hands now grabbing his hoodie.

What actually breaks you is that Leon seems to be asking for your permission. Deep down, Leon could seduce you, could make you kneel and beg for him. Instead, the silent please in his eyes, the desperation in his voice, his hand trembling against your cheek. You close your hands around his hoodie, bringing his lips into yours. It surprises you how ferocious you are kissing him, surprises you how you moan into the kiss.

Finally, your body aches relieved. Finally.

The feeling is mutual to Leon. What he never has told you is that since he met you, he knew he had to have you: he didn't know what it was about you. He had never heard of anyone of his kind falling in love (they are supposed to be the embodiment of sexual desire, anyway). The time bonding together (for more, you tried to not call that), fighting other creatures, and saving each other's asses made Leon just desire you even more. And for some strange reason, you seemed to reciprocate his feelings, too stubborn to admit.

His feelings for you made him stop feeding as much, as Leon didn't find much fun and interest in other people. Everything tasted bland and boring compared to you. It didn't help with the dreams, the horny thoughts about you getting worse and worse. Usually, jerking off would be like a small snack for Leon, but thinking about you never left him completely satisfied. He needed to have you.

And tonight, especially tonight, after another sleepless night and having another dream about you sucking him off, Leon decided to, as numerous past nights, bike around town to cool off. He would need to get home and maybe jerk off again, imagining you squirming under him, begging for him to move when he noticed your smell. His attention turned into jealousy when he saw you hugging a werewolf who clearly had sexual intentions towards you.

After seeing this, Leon turned his motorcycle around with one destination: your house. He needed to try. He needed to show you what he felt for you. And if you sent him away, well, at least he would have tried.

Your bodies are entirely in sync. You are surprised to notice Leon knows precisely where and how you desire to be touched and how you like to be kissed. You "blame" the incubus side: he is supposed to seduce you, so you give him what you want.

You fall back into your mattress, and Leon pulls away from you momentarily. You are only in your underwear, bare chest, a complete mess with your lips swollen with the kisses. Your body is vibrating for him: Leon needs to admire that. Or else he would never believe his dreams turned into reality.

"You look so beautiful." He whispers with reverence, taking his hoodie off. You are surprised to see him with no shirt on. Leon pulls his pants down, and you gulp, watching his cock spring free.

"No underwear?" You wonder, your eyes locked into his hard-on. Were all incubus supposed to be this thick and big?

"Easier that way," Leon answers, shrugging his shoulder. He kisses you again, and his hands take off the last piece of your underwear. He doesn't even know where to touch you first: your hard nipples or your sex? He is eager and somehow nervous. Leon is probably the first case of a nervous incubus in history.

"Leon?" You call his name, confused. He raises his head to meet your eyes, an emotional expression on his face. It is the first time you have called him by his name.

Leon starts paying attention to your nipples. He watches for your reaction, twisting and pinching the way that makes you moan more. You are clay under his hands; if Leon told you to run around naked, you would. At this moment time, you are no one else except his.

"Spread your legs for me."

You obey his command, feeling his hard-on against your thigh. His hands go down your belly to your sex, more wet than usual. Leon smiles, rubbing you with a fingertip to get a taste of your juice. He chuckles as you tremble, your face embarrassed.

"I have never been so wet like this," You confess.

"You never heard? Incubus charm can do that. Especially if the other one desires us back, really, really bad." You ignore the way he probably would have said meal. You can feel his breath between your tights, and your hands go into his shoulders to warn him.

"I won't last long if you do this."

"Exactly my point."

By the first touch of Leon's tongue on your needy sex, you can feel close to the orgasm. Your body is so warm, and one of your hands grabs his golden locks, keeping his head there. That only seems to thrill Leon more: He explores with his tongue up and down your sex, and you can't hold back your moans, your other hand grabbing the sheets under you. Leon hums, satisfied as he continues to savor you.

It doesn't take long for you to cum in Leon's mouth. There is a sound of approval coming from his chest as your entire body shakes under him, your eyes rolling. It had never been this strong with your past partners, you had never come this fast. You would never tell Leon that. You need a moment to relax as Leon raises his head, licking his lips.

"Delicious. Even better, what I imagined." You try to not look embarrassed as he compliments you, the warm feeling in your chest happy to hear that.

"Leon?" You call him worried.

You finally realize his eyes remain the same blue eye color. You might not know a lot about incubus sex, but one thing you know is that their eyes turn a different color when they are feeding. You had heard about red, deep red, orange, orange red-ish.

"You okay? Need more moments?"

"Why didn't you feed?" The worried tone of your voice doesn't go unnoticed by him. Leon smiles, attempting to ease your worries.

"I didn't ask for your consent. Didn't think it would be fair."

"You don't ask for consent for the others." You argue, the tone of jealousy making him chuckle. Leon lays on top of you, his arms caging you again.

"You are not like the others. You are special." Before the weight of his confession would make you run away scared, screaming for your life. Now, it makes you lock your legs around his hips, purring content.

"I am sure you say that to all others."

"No, I don't." His tone is serious. Leon starts to rub against your still-sensitive sex. He lowers down to kiss you, slowly and this time more patiently. You can taste yourself in Leon's mouth, making you wonder what Leon's taste is. When you break away, you confess in a hushed whisper you want him to feed.

You want him satisfied with you. Only you.

When Leon penetrates you slowly, to not hurt you, for more wet that your entrance is with his magic, you watch fascinated his eyes turn into a weak red. He probably had been hungry for a long time, and something inside of you told Leon that he would need much more to be fed entirely. Leon pushes all his dick inside of you, giving both a moment to calm yourself. You feel delicious wrapped around him like that: tight and warm. There would be really no one else for him after this.

"You can move now." You whisper, rubbing his face. His first thrust is gentle but still drags a sob out of you. How come Leon has found your pleasure spot so quick? It had to be luck.

Your body had never been in such sync with someone else like that before: Leon knew precisely how to move his hips, how exactly would you make you moan the loudest. It doesn't take long for you to cum again, his thrusts still gentle, hitting that specific pleasure spot you love so much repeatedly. After you cum, Leon stops, worried you might say this is over, but you lift yourself from the bed with one hand, the other holding Leon's neck so he can look at you. You demand more from him, harder, faster. That makes you scream. That the whole town knows who you belong from now.

Your consent is probably what drives him over the edge. Leon doesn't stop now, and if it wasn't for his arm holding around your shoulder to keep you in the bed, you would have fallen out with the strength of his thrusts. You sound incoherent by now, pleading for something, someone, watching Leon's eyes flicker into a stronger red. His eyes never entirely leave your face, his hips hitting against yours with a supernatural strength. You thank mentally for your genetics, or else Leon could have actually hurt you.

You both are close now, you to your third orgasm, Leon on his first one after weeks. Or months. He remembers how many times he has fapped to this vision before, your eyes rolling with your mouth parted as you begged him to not stop, to fuck you insane, never enough to completely satisfy him. But tonight, Leon is giving you all that he has gotten.

When you both come at the same time, your back arches against the bed, and your vision goes white. You scream, your body trembling under Leon's arm, holding onto his shoulders as if you are drowning in the water. Leon is your anchor now, keeping you remotely sane.

As Leon fills you up with a strangled moan of your name, Leon feels his starvation to subdue. He is still hungry as he always would be for you, but this time he is sated. Different from all the other times he had feed: different from the simple fucks he had when he was hungry. As the closest thing from an incubus could feel from love.

It takes you a few minutes to come back to reality. You blink, Leon at your side this time, his arm around you and his head resting against your shoulder. He has his eyes closed, but he isn't sleeping.

"You okay?" He asks, finally opening his eyes. They are back to their normal blue eyes, even looking more vivid.

"Yeah, I guess?" You can feel his cum in your tights leaking from your entrance. "What have you done to me?"

"I told you I would have given you what you deserved." Leon chuckles, and you hit in the arm lightly. Convinced bastard.

You sit down, wincing at the soreness in the middle of your legs. You wonder if you were entirely human if you could walk the following day. There is a small puddle of white cum in the bed, and you look at him, surprised.

"Didn't know you guys could make this much mess…"

"Only when we are entirely satisfied."

Leon lays on his back, arms lifted with his head resting against his hands, a satisfied smile on his lips like he just had the biggest meal of his entire life. And he did: you look a mess, and Leon loves being the reason for that.

"So, do you have to leave now or…?"

"Not if you don't want me," Leon answers softly.

"I don't." You confess, and Leon smiles, happy. The confused feelings in your thoughts and heart could stay for tomorrow. Now, you need a shower and change your sheets. Then cuddle with the man next to you.

"Do you guys cuddle?" You ask, sounding like an idiot, and Leon giggles again.

"I think we can. You will be my first one anyway."

First one? Before you can ask what that means, Leon gets up from the bed. You watch as the light of the night illuminates his body, marked with your love. He raises his hand.

"I can see you are overthinking. Let's worry about tomorrow when tomorrow arrives, okay?"

You nod. Sounds like the perfect plan.

taglist: @90sbee, @scar-crossedlvrs, @roseglazedlens, @sarahs-secrets2

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy fanfic #AND IM DONEEEEEE #never again im doing this lol

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leossmoonn · 6 months

Note

Could you maybe do some head canons for like goth or alternative!reader x mike? Maybe he was intimidated when he first saw her or like Abby really likes the way she dresses and wants to borrow accessories from her and stuff? Idk this idea popped in my head you are such a good writer! 😺

yes! i’m not goth but i looked up some outfits and makeup and stuff. i know the media waters down goth style, but i hope this is what you had in mind!! this is also kind of all over the place sorry 😅

includes / warnings - reader fem, has piercings :D. hc format. after freddy’s.

————

first time mike sees you hearts shoot out his eyes like he’s in a cartoon

“what’re you staring at?” abby asks.

“uh,” mike trails off, not being able to answer as he literally locked on you. it’s when you glance over at him when his face get all red and he looks away and goes back to grocery shopping.

abby walks up to you after seeing mike’s interest and starts a conversation with you

mike tries to steer her away, but he can’t get to her before she says:

“my brother thinks you’re pretty.”

lmao if mike didn’t want to die before this, he definitely wanted to now

“oh, he does?” you grin at him.

mike visibly gulps. but he’s glad he’s closer to you and he can really see how hot you are lmao

“yeah,” he nods. “i-i really like your piercing,” he points to his own eyebrow where you have a piercing on your face.

“thank you. it’s new, actually.”

although mike was a little worried about abby running off to talk to you, in the end it was a good thing 😸

mike loves watching you do your makeup. he’ll sit there for hours staring at you for hours if he could

he loves watching your skilled hands paint eyeliner over your eyes. he likes watching you mix lipstick shades together to create the perfect shade you lay desire that day

“don’t you have to go to work?” you ask.

“i can be late if that means i get to stare at your pretty face.”

also, he’s just so impressed with how talented you are at doing makeup and will literally tell you how artistic you are just bc you know how to make a straight wing

mike loves the chunky heels and boots you wear. he likes when you tower over him 😼

not to mention, when the boots go up your thigh he lowk gets all hot and bothered by it lol

he also loves buying you new accessories to put in your piercings. the first holiday you spent together, he bought you a shit tone of necklaces and new pieces to put in your septum

mike loves taking you out. not only bc he loves showing you off in general. in his head he’s definitely walking around like “yeah i know i bagged the most beautiful woman in the world. all you other guys suck.”

but in all seriousness, he loves the dresses you put on. he always says you look like a vampire princess, and he’s not entirely wrong

the dresses you have are fabulous omg. there’s one where it all connects form a choker-like strap around your neck and has straps connecting to the sweetheart neckline of the dress (soz if this doesn’t make any sense lmfao). the dress is textured on the skirt and stops a little bit above your knees. and fuck if mike doesn’t just want to rip it off of you after also wanting to stare at you in it for all of eternity.

you also have this sleek, black, satin dress that has like a straight neckline and long sleeves and goes down to your feet.

everytime mike sees you wearing that he mouths literally waters

now, just to go back to the fact that he is super intimated when first dating you

he was so afraid he was going to be too boring for you or basic. and also just not the type guy you were looking for

but just to his luck, you think he is perfect for you

omg but in the first month or two do you two dating, i just imagine him finding out what music you like and trying to learn every word of every song to siouxsie and the banshees, specimen, sisters of mercy

it definitely does impress you and you think it’s so sweet

for your bday he definitely tries to take you to any concert he can get tickets to

now on the subject of abby, she is definitely obsessed with you

she’s always asking you to do her makeup for school, and you happily oblige!

mike always looking out for abby in his own way, so he was worried if she went to school caked with eyeliner, she would face some backlash, but he knows how happy it makes her — and you — to play with makeup

abby’s always asking mike she can get a tattoo and piercings

“abby, you just turned 11. you won’t be able to drive anytime soon, so no tattoos anytime soon.”

she’s always trying to have you convince him, but unfortunately you have to agree with mike

buuuuttt you do paint and draw designs on abby sometimes and she acts like their tattoos and that’s close enough for her until she’s older

you also buy her face piercings that hook on her nose and lip

mike does let her get her ears pierced once she promises she can handle the little needle poke and she proceeds to try and steal all your earrings lmao

luckily, you buy her copy cats of them so she can have her own

other random things:

mike definitely lets you paints his nails. this is not at all that crazy of an idea, but, it’s smth new he’s never done but he loves watching you get so excited. you can even practice nail art on him too

you have a couple of tattoos, specifically one that goes around the side of your thigh and it just makes him fall to his knees!!

Halloween you guys dress up as the Addams family !!!

so fitting cuz you’re a hot, powerful woman and mike’s like gomez: unwaveringly obsessed with you. and of course abby is wednesday hehe

————

taglist

@celestbarnes

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #fnaf #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt x you

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tac-the-unseen · 1 month

Text

What the Lost boys think about vampire related media

Fluff, x reader but just barely

•While making conversation with your four Vampire lovers you were suddenly plagued with a question.

“How do you guys feel about vampire related media?”

-That question was an immediate head turner. The cave goes dead quite before Dwayne speaks up, “Well…vampires are in hiding so…”

-This sparks a conversation about how media representation of vampires may not be accurate, but that's a good thing. “If a book or movie comes out and it is shockingly accurate to what being a vampire is really like, the creator isn't going to last long.” David explained

-That's because there's a set of rules vampires have to follow and one of those rules is to never publicly reveal your double life identity

-”If something like that comes out, that means a vampire has broken that rule OR somebody knows vampires very closely and is creating media they know shouldn't exist.”

-Turns out if a vampire breaks that rule it's basically open season to kill and destroy their creations.

•You turn the conversation and begin to ask how they, specifically, feel about certain vampire representation

•Bram Stoker's Dracula

-Dwayne is the first to buy in his opinion.

-Dwayne feels that while it is a cult classic and well written, The characters are exceedingly dumb.

-”Johnathan spends a ridiculous amount of time talking about other characters ‘Breasts’ and trying to figure out why his host climbs walls ‘like a lizard's.”

-David is the next one to speak up

-David thinks it's not really worth the read

-”Unless you're trying to brag to people there's no point in reading it.”

-”Also why was Mina talking to that old sailor so much?”

-Paul laughs as he remembers “how fucking crazy he wrote Dracula to be”

-”I'm pretty sure the real Dracula thinks it's a heinous crime against him”

-Paul hasn't read it but have heard enough about it to know even the more obscure references

-Marko comments on the graceful writing style and the beautiful descriptions

-”I've only read it because Dwayne thought I would like it"

-Marko also loves how oblivious Jonathan and most of the other characters are

-All of them think the movie adaptation is hilarious and love the shitty special effects

•Interview with a vampire

-Paul chimes in immediately

-”God it's so homo erotic it hurts…in a good way.”

-Paul thinks its a nice horror novel mixed with a weird cozy atmosphere

-Dwayne thinks it's another well written classic and He actually begins to rave about all the themes involved within Anne Rice’s work

-”It's a beautiful Gothic thriller with a deep, sadly comedic energy.”

-He even offers to read it too you sometime

-Marko chimes in quickly about “Claudia’s rebellious behavior and persona”

-”imagine watching your family choose somebody else over you. It's so deeply upsetting but to an understandable level.”

-”I would have hated to turn so young. I look like a teenager and other people can respect that to a certain point. But being five years old with the mind of an adult, No one would respect you.”

-Marko relates to Claudia on an internal level and loves unraveling her character. When you ask why he quickly responds "Some people call me a cherub... You think I enjoy that?"

-David says he doesn't have much to say other than it was a decent read (That's his version of a compliments)

•Twilight

-All of them agree that it's laughably horrendous

-Almost immediately at the same time they say “This is the skin of a killer Bella”

-This leads to banshee like laughter

David speaks up immediately

-”Why do you humans want us to sparkle so bad?”

-”I personally hate the idea of being a walking disco ball, but to each their own.”

-Marko chimes in quickly

-”Would you like it if we sparkled?” He asked while leans on you affectionately

-Marko thinks the only reason to read it is to have a nice laugh

-”Why did Edward have such a violent reaction of Bella standing by a fan? That makes no sense…like I have mates and I enjoy the smell of you guys but…I'm not nearly clawing off my face at your smell”

-”Yeah yeah, I get he's trying not to overreact but running out of class to get away is crazy.”

-Paul even adds that even thought it's very dumb even he can appreciate the message it's trying to said.

-”something something, coming over adversary, something something, love wins, something something..”

-”Also that Jacob imprinting on Bella's infant daughter is super fucking creepy.”

-when you asked Dwayne about his feels he scoffed and said It's insulting at best and borderline sexual harassment at worst.

-He refused to go into depth

•You thank them for humoring you and they tell you that it's no problem

-David kisses the side of your head in an uncharacteristically soft way “We don't ever mind answering your vampire related question.” He tells you

-Marko turns to you “But seriously do you want us to sparkle?”

-”I think I have some roll on body glitter somewhere..” Paul says while getting up to look for it

Thanks for reading <3

#the lost boys x reader #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #paul the lost boys #marko the lost boys #reader #the lost boys #vampire #fluff #books #lovers

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shallyouobeyme · 8 months

Text

Castle

Platonic!Yandere Vampire ErasterMic!Family x Toddler!Reader (GN)

Summary: Upon a hill over a small town stands a castle. It's vampiric inhabitants get a sacrifice every generation, but one year, they find a little child bundled up in a blanket at their door.

! Minors Do Not Interact !

TW: Sacrificing a child (you), mention of mugging, fighting, attacks, murder + torture (not descriptive and not towards reader), vampires, being turned into a vampire, illness, dark content, I do not condone this - this is all just fantasy

There was a custom in a small town lying in the valley under a hill which adorned the horizon along with the great castle standing on top of it unshakable, permanent, unaging - just like its inhabitants. There were legends going through generations of people living in the castle's shadow. According to them, the castle housed four very specific, mythical creatures. A man of shadows who could only be seen in the night and whose sight was said to be linked with an imminent death. A banshee who could act like a siren and lure you in, only to them scream with the voices of all the souls who have lost their lives because of him. An undead boy who could make you see things, hear things, do things, which would shake any living thing to their core. And at the last, a girl pale as a sheet, with hair white as snow - a ghost, said to be one of their former victims (according to some even their first), who was hunting the castle to warn others who'd share her fate and remind the creatures who had caused her death of their rotten soul.

Along with the legends and myths, the custom developed as well - it came from a place of fear and dread, from a time when deaths rid the town of most of its people and the only cause they could discern was that they had attracted the anger of their mythical watchers - and now it was common practice for every generation to chose a sacrifice to bring to the gates of the castle to gratify the rage of it's owners. Usually, it would be one of the elderly who volunteered themselves, knowing that they had not long to live and wanting to see what all the legends were about at least once in their life. Because except for the sacrificial rite no one was allowed to climb the hill to the castle.

By the time the most unusual and determinative sacrifice happened, the medics of the town had realized that the deaths they had in the past blamed on the creatures were caused by natural reasons - most crucial, the plague. But still, the custom stayed, because why would they change the habit that had kept the townspeople safe for all these years? There was just one thing that was different by that time - it had probably been the result of more health and people having fewer children - but for the first time in generations, there were no elderly who were close to dying, all the elderly who were around were still healthy and fit. And so, one family offered to make the ultimate sacrifice, as they had a young child of only a few years of age who they'd be bringing to the gates. The child was old enough to walk and talk, but not old enough to understand what was happening. And furthermore, the child was ill and sickly. They had been born with their ailment and the doctors saw no possibility of betterment, giving them only a few more years of life before the ailment would take them.

And so it was decided for the best all to lose their child in exchange for the happiness of all the other children they would have and that were living around them. On the night of the summer solstice, their parents put the child into warm clothes and carry their sleeping form up the hill. They knew that the least they needed to do was bring them away together and spend their last moments on this earth as a family. When they arrived at the gate, they rolled their child in a blanket and laid her down in front of it, before the father took the mother's hand and used the knocker that would never work from that distance at any other house. The parents gave their child one last kiss and then solemnly made their way back down the hill to their lives.

On the opposite side of the gate were a family at dinner - or at least as similar to dinner as it was possible for this family. They were sitting around a table with chalices before them, filled with dark, red, liquid that some might assume to be wine. It was not. The family had been living in the castle for centuries. And it was not the fathers and mothers of the people living in it now, no, it had been the exact same people as were sitting around the table now, unchanged like the building they were living in. Unlike what the townspeople assumed, the family of vampires had no interest in ending the lives of the people below them, they had long since switched to an animal-based diet. Still, they also had no interest in stopping their little habit of sacrifices, because it kept them unbothered, and kept the people of the town just afraid enough to not dare enter their homes. And since the sacrificial humans were usually already smelling of death, they had no issue putting them out of their misery - giving the old humans the happiness of letting them know what they had been wondering about for their entire lives.

As the family was talking about the latest news and interests that had been going on in their very exclusive, very secretive society of vampiric creatures spread around the entire world, Aizawa looked out of the window and sighed. He wondered about how fast the last 25 years had passed, but stood up and went out to the gate nonetheless. He wondered a little bit about the unusual breathing and heartbeat pattern heard coming from the human. It had been centuries since he had bothered with visiting or listening to other humans so while his ears were as good as ever, he had some difficulties distinguishing between the differences in them just based on their sounds and smells. So he assumed that this human was just weaker than usual.

All this led to all the more of a surprise when he opened the gate and found not an elderly human looking to find their end for the greater good, but instead a little bundled-up child. You - looking slightly younger than their own daughter had been when she was turned by a nefarious vampire looking to extend their clan - looked so weak, so frail, and as Aizawa looked at you, for the first time in centuries he was reminded of his own time as a mortal. Back then he and Yamada had to hide their love, their romance forbidden for multiple reasons. Not only were they both men, no they were also part of opposite sides of a war, though on the nights when they both sneaked away to spend their time embraced without having to worry about the rest of the world, they spent their time dreaming of having a life together, living without fear and most importantly, taking care of a little life of their own. A child. And when they had been turned, that dream had been mostly fulfilled.

Now they were powerful enough to live without fear together and a few decades later they stumbled upon a dying boy - a mugger who had stolen from them earlier, but as they hunted him down to get their stuff back they found him giving away the stolen goods to the children living in the street without a way to make their own way of survival. When he had also thrown himself in the way of a fight that had escalated and an attack meant for Yamada, it had been clear to them they could not leave him to die. And so they turned him and gained their son. And while they loved him as if he was their own - he was in a sense, the bond forged by turning someone almost as strong as the bond of blood mortals had - he had still already been a young adult when they had 'adopted' him.

Their gaining Eri for their family had been similar. She had already been a vampire for years when they had saved her and while she still looked the part of a young child, she had already been mindful and conscious of things a child would never be, she was a teenager or even an adult trapped in the body of a child.

So when Aizawa looked down at you, he saw this dream of theirs, the dream of raising a child of their own, and he saw the possibility of that now happening. When he brought you back in it was safe to say that his idea was taken in with a lot of enthusiasm, Yamada taking you out of Aizawa's arms and cuddling you close to him - so very happy to have a little you like you so close to him. Oh, how adorable you were, how precious - it was like he finally found what he was waiting for all of his immortal life. Eri was over the moon as well, stating that she had always wanted to be a big sister, that she'd do her best to make sure you'd grow up safe and surrounded by love, and that she wouldn't let anything harm you.

Shinsou was the one who stated something that the rest of the family had forgotten to think about through their joy. Someone had sacrificed you to them, had left you to what they thought to be a soon and possibly painful death. Shinsou's eyes were filled with rage, infectious rage and bloodlust that he hadn't felt since he'd been turned first, as he thought about how someone could leave such a little, weak thing as you to your death knowingly. And so, you were left with Yamada who was not quite ready to let go of you yet, and Eri who insisted on you getting a room near hers (even though you'd spent your next years sleeping in your new parent's bed) and to be there when you awoke to keep you calm in your new surrounded.

While they were already planning your new life, Aizawa and Shinsou made their way down that hill for the first time in a long while, with fire and fury in their steps, knowing that they'd leave no one alive - all of the townspeople at fault for letting you be sacrificed in their eyes. They had only had you with them for less than a day, but one look at you cuddling into Aizawa and Yamadas was enough to have them put you into their hearts and they'd bring hell before letting you go again. So no matter if young or old, male or female or in between, sick or healthy, every single mortal in that town paid their due that day, most of all your own parents whom they recognized by their smell and made suffer for as long as they could before they felt like they needed to see you again to make sure you were doing okay and ended your families misery.

It was clear that your life would be very different from now on, you would be coddled and loved, spoiled and protected. You were still so young that you didn't really worry about the fact that there were these strange people calling themselves your daddies and siblings for longer than a month or two, after that, you accepted your new situation. You enjoyed the attention, loved playing with Eri, dressing up with Yamada, taking naps with Aizawa and getting told stories by Shinsou. Your new life was happy and joyful and you didn't even notice how protective and obsessive your new family was. Leaving the castle wasn't an option anymore - which you didn't worry about too much given how big the castle felt to you - and neither was being alone. There was always one of them with you unless you were sleeping, and even then someone was close to you, close enough to race to you when they heard the difference in breathing patterns of you waking up.

Upon multiple protective measures, it was Shinsou who took it into his hands to tell you stories that made you scared of being alone and leaving the safety of your home - it hurt him to see you so scared, but the feeling of having you run into his arms for comfort when you were afraid of a shadow outside of the window, made it all worth it. Only once you started seeing evil in anything outside and started fearing things around you once you were alone did he tone it down a bit, knowing that he would not have to worry about you leaving them for the time being. His parents had claimed that it wasn't necessary since someone was with you at all times, but they didn't intervene when he started so he assumed they were fine with it.

Aizawa and Yamada loved having your young innocent around them, it reminded them that there was still goodness left in the world, but they still decided that they would not turn you until you were old enough to agree to it. They couldn't promise that they'd listen to you even if you didn't agree - already knowing that they could never let you go - but they at least wanted you to have the opportunity to feel like you made the choice on your own.

Of course, there was still your illness. Your family had many connections in the world thanks to their community of vampiric friends so they had access to the top medication and the best doctors and you got all of that. Everything to make sure you were as healthy as possible and relieved of any pain. The only thing that might change the way they had decided your turning would go would be if your condition worsened if there was no chance of healing anymore. Then, turning you would be an immediate reaction. And who knows, maybe them having you being their little toddler for the rest of eternity - never growing and being coddled by them to make sure you stay as innocent as you are now - was the best thing that could happen to you since they had found you at their gate.

N/A: Thank you to @dumpster-dive-reading for the inspiration behind this and thank you all for reading this. If you enjoyed it I'd love to read your thoughts. Tomorrow's entry for Yandere Writetober is going to be 'dagger' and let's just say while I'm not sure yet, I have a very mischievous character in mind for this. See you then ❤️

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hopeluna-archived · 2 years

Note

Oh thank youu so much ^^

My request:

May i request the demon bro's (+side charac except luke) reacting to them walking on reader changing

If you don't feel comfortoble with that heres an another one!^^

Second request:

A Reader who is can turn into a Sheep, How would the demon brothers react?

(+side characters)

(I did this at 3:16 AM lol)

Obey Me! Characters reacting to them walking on MC changing

Obey Me! Brothers x GN!reader

Warnings: my bad grammar, suggestive, I'm sleep deprived don't judge me

Genre: crack

A/N: I'm gonna post the side characters in another post and I might do the second request, not really sure yet but yeah this turned out way longer that I thought it would but Enjoy!!

The side characters

M.list

Lucifer

The brothers were once again on his last fucking nerve

Lets be honest, when are they not? But today was just a particualrly annoying day for the demon

What better way to de-stress than spending some time with his favourite human?

Rip MC's legs

Anyway, he's making his way to your room, mumbling under his breath about how he is gonna wring Mammon's neck.

He always knocks. He's proper. But this time it kinda slipped his mind and he just walked right in

Didn't even notice you were changing at first

So you're just standing there half naked like wha-

The moment he looks up at you, realizes you're naked, he closes that door so fast

Cause no, he can't have you seeing him flustered, his pride won't let him

After a few moments, cue slow opening door

This time Lucifer comes in with that smirk

"MC might I suggest locking the door from now on? Wouldn't want anyone else seeing you like this, would you now darling?"

Once again rip, i'll pray for you

Mammon

Now, he never knocks...like ever.

Why should he? The Great Mammon should be welcomed to see his human whenever he wants

So there he goes, happily running to your room to tell you about his plan on how he'll steal the money from the Demon Lord's castle and be rich forever

You know? Everyday stuff

You're just minding your own thing, changing, chilling

And in bursts this stupid fucking idiot that you love unfortunately cause you're a moronsexual

The second he sees you, he's screaming

And now you're screaming

He's screaming more

You scream louder, for some reason?

Now who hears this? Everyone

And now who else is bursting into your room cause of the screams? You guessed it! Everyone

Lucifer is annoyed, Levi is LOLOLOL- ing, Satan is rolling his eyes, Asmo is squealing cause someone is naked, Beel's covering his eyes while carrying Belphie

All while you're still there half naked

Mammon finally comes to his tsundere senses

"OI EVERYONE GET OUT! ASMO GET AWAY FROM MC"

Once everyone leaves, Mammon is at it again

"YOU CAN'T JUST CHANGE IN A PLACE LIKE THIS, HUMAN"

"I'M IN MY ROOM"

Leviathan

This ain't happening cause he never getting outta that room

Okay okay lets say, he is going to your room to show either his new Ruri chan figurines or to tell you the plot of "I work in a small cozy bakery and I get this customer who is really handsome and mysterious and I nearly get mugged but that handsome mysterious starnger saves me and in a shocking plot twist I accidentally find out he is a vampire, now i'm stuck between a vampire and human war"

That got out of hand

Anyway, Levi is naruto running through the hallways to your room cause the more he stays outside, there is a higher risk of encountering normies

So he's excited as hell (pun intended), so he just forgets that there is something called knocking

Here he comes, bursting into your room like a great beacon of anime

And you're there.....in your underwear changing

The great beacon of anime pauses

The great beacon of anime dies

No, he literally gets a nosebleeds, screeches like a banshee, falls unconsious on the floor

Now you're panicking, thinking he's dead

So you quickly put on some clothes, crouch down to check on Levi

He wakes up, sees your face so close to him, faints

He didn't come out of his room for a month after that

Satan

Now he knocks always cause that is just decent manner

He was just too excited this time that he forgot

You can't blame him, he read a really interesting book and the first thing he thought was to tell you about it

He also a really cute cat today!

A CAT!!

He has every reason to be bursting with excitement

And so he enters you room

Looking down at his book

Begining to talk about it-

He looks up

He freezes

For a second though, cause as soon as it registers to him that you're half naked, he whips around so fast-

Of course he'll keep his back turned to you while you quickly put on some clothes

We stan gentleman Satan in this blog

Once you announce that you've changed, he just casually turns around, clears his throat, and starts talking his book

Acts like that didn't happen

Satan on the outside: calm, quiet, talking softly about books and cats

Satan on the inside: fuck fuck fuck fuck

But there will be a light coat of blush spread on his cheeks the entire time

Always knocks every time from now

Asmodeus

Asmo: knocking? Whats that? Never heard of it

He has, he is just a little shit

So he's skipping to your room, lastest Devildom magazines in his hand

He just wanted to show you his photos there

I mean who wouldn't be happy to see pictures of the fabulous moi ♥︎♥︎

Walks right in the room

Squeals in a really high pitched voice

Rip eardrums

"MC I LOVE THAT NEW UNDERWEAR YOU LOOK SO BEAUTIFUL"

Falls glamourously in your bed and stars planning on how you should go shopping together next time so that you could have matching outfits

While you're just there trying to cover yourself up, he pouts at that obviously

"MC its not like I haven't seen you already"

If you're already in a relationship, cool

If you're not, sir what- 😃

Get a restraining order

Beelzebub

*sigh* sweet sweet Beel

The most sanest out of them all

Luke and Barbatos had just dropped off some cupcakes and other sweet treats they had made

Beel was over the moon

He just wanted to share it with you, so there he goes, on the way to your room

Food in his arms, frosting covering his chin adorably from already having eaten half the food

He couldn't help it

I would say Beel does knock before entering but he just sometimes forgets when he is too distracted with food

This was one of those times

So he goes in, chewing on some food

And poor you were there changing, your back turned to the door

As soon as he saw that you were lacking some clothes

He choked

He blushed a bright red, immediately turning away

As he waited for you to put something on, he just stuttered out a apology

He feel really bad

After you tell him its okay, he just goes to offer food to you with a blush on his cheeks

He's such a sweetheart

God bless Beel

Wait no-

Belphegor

Honestly

HONESTLY

I don't think he even cares that much

He was just heading to your room to take a nap with you cause you're his favourite cuddle buddy next to Beel, who was busy eating away every food in some restaurant and giving them a crisis

He's too tired to knock, why bother right?

So he just gets in your bed, pulls you down with him, cuddles you and goes to sleep

You're now trapped in his arms forever

If you get flustered about it, his inner little shit comes out

And he takes that chance to tease you

Tease you ENDLESSLY

But yeah he doesn't care much

Though you should start caring, cause now you're trapped in his arms for Diavolo knows how long

Good luck MC

─────────────

Tags: @jaidenisasimp

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!! Do not repost or claim as yours though, its not cool.

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britany1997 · 1 year

Text

The Lost Boys Masterlist

Rules: Read Before Requesting:)

Fluff-💖 Spice/Smut- ❤️‍🔥 Angst-🖤

(Other characters I write for masterlists linked at the end)

Fics and Blurbs:

Poly:

Stargazing with the Lost Boys Poly! Lost Boys x GN reader 💖

Cuddling with the Lost Boys Poly! Lost Boys x GN reader 💖

Shared Interests Poly! Lost Boys x Lesbian reader 💖

Vampires Everywhere Poly! Lost boys x GN Vampire reader 💖

Hot Vampires in Your Area Poly! Lost Boys x GN Vampire Reader ❤️‍🔥 (follow up to Vampires Everywhere)

Hot Vampires In Your Area Poly! Lost boys x GN Vampire Reader (Part 3 to Vampires Everywhere)❤️‍🔥

The Sun Rises Poly! Lost boys x Fem! depressed reader 💖🖤

Quali-tea Time Poly! Lost boys and Laddie 💖

Rev Your Engines Poly! Lost boys x Motorcycle Expert GN Reader 💖

Let’s Motor Poly! Lost boys x Motorcycle Expert GN Reader 💖 (Part 2 to Rev Your Engines)

Cult Classic Poly! Lost boys x GN reader that’s like Pelle from midsommer 🖤 (part 2)(upcoming)

Queer Eye with the Vampire Guys Poly! Lost boys x GN reader💖

Purrfect Night Poly! Boys x Male catlike reader💖

If You Give A Vampire A Cookie Poly! Boys x GN Reader who owns a bakery💖

Birthday Request Masterlist🎂💖

Paul:

Paul and Fishy Masterlist 💖

The Big Bad Wolf ❤️‍🔥 Paul x Fem! Reader

Sharing is Caring Paul x GN reader x Dwayne💖

Spellbound Paul x Trad Goth GN Reader💖

Fallen For You Paul x Fem Angel Reader🖤

Hungry Like The Wolf Paul x Fem Reader ❤️‍🔥 (Part 2 to The Big Bad Wolf)

Starry-Eyed Lovers Paul x GN reader 🖤💖

Sticky Fingers Paul x GN Reader 💖

Passenger Princess Paul x Fem Reader x Marko❤️‍🔥

Pinned Marko x GN reader x Paul❤️‍🔥

Bad Boy Dom Dwayne x Sub Paul❤️‍🔥

Every Breath You Take Yandere Paul x fem reader 🖤💖

Signed, Sealed, Delivered…I’m Yours Paul x GN Selkie Reader 💖

Dwayne:

Use Your Words Dwayne x Male Reader ❤️‍🔥

Creature Comfort David x Dwayne centric 🖤💖

Everything Now David x Dwayne ❤️‍🔥 (Part 2 to C.C.)

Supersymmetry Dwayne x GN Reader x David ❤️‍🔥 (Part 3 to C.C.)

Sharing is Caring Paul x GN reader x Dwayne 💖

Lay Like This Forever Dwayne x Fem! Reader ❤️‍🔥💖

Bad Boy Dom Dwayne x Sub Paul❤️‍🔥

Each Night Before You Go To Bed Dwayne x GN Reader💖

Man of Your Midsummer Night’s Dreams Dwayne x GN Fae Reader💖 follow up blurb

Marko:

Passenger Princess Paul x Fem Reader x Marko❤️‍🔥

Pinned Marko x GN Reader x Paul❤️‍🔥

David:

Creature Comfort David x Dwayne centric 🖤💖

Everything Now David x Dwayne ❤️‍🔥 (part 2 to C.C.)

Supersymmetry Dwayne x GN Reader x David❤️‍🔥 (Part 3 to C.C.)

Male Manipulator 🖤 Modern Toxic David x GN reader

Love Marks Jealous! Toxic! David x GN Reader❤️‍🔥🖤

Style Icon David x Male Reader 🖤💖

Hand in Unloveable Hand Poly! Lost boy x Male Reader (David centric) 🖤

His Favorite Boy David x Transmasc reader💖

A Dragon’s Tail David x Male Dragon Reader💖

Michael:

Deep in the Heart of Texas Southern Michael x GN Reader fic ❤️‍🔥

Sunkissed Poolboy Michael x Fem Rich Reader ❤️‍🔥 (collab)

Star:

You Mystify Me Star x Banshee Fem Reader💖

Multi-Chapter Fics:

Fate Yields For No One Masterlist Poly! Lost boys x Max’s daughter reader

Headcanons:

TLB Headcanons Masterlist

Non-Lost Boys Fics:

Buffy The Vampire Slayer Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

Tyler Masterlist (Thrashin)

Anakin Skywalker Masterlist (Star Wars)

And more to come!

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #tlb #tlb 1987 #david lost boys #dwayne lost boys #marko lost boys #paul lost boys #lost boys headcanons #kiefer sutherland #billy wirth #alex winter #brooke mccarter #the lost boys fic

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faerievampling · 2 months

Text

Killing Time

Chapter 11: Stargirl

Pairing: Soft ascended Astarion x female vampire tav/reader

Summary: Astarion and you handle the aftermath of your captivity; a celestial patron comes to visit his favorite new warlock, and Lae’zel thinks the vampire couple need to get a room.

Warning: 18+. Mention of past SA. Light dub-con touching.

Word Count: 4.8k

M.List (all chapters of Killing Time are there!)

Link to Ao3!

picture creds to @cheekylittlepupp<3

Angel’s sudden appearance causes quite the commotion, especially considering the second thing Angel said was regarding the lewd painting of you hanging on the wall; Astarion’s demanding you tell him who this strange, naked thing was in your bedroom, all while Angel plays with his hair, carelessly twirling a black strand around his finger.

“Oh yeah, I totally saved your girl!”Angel exclaims, his scarlet and golden eye twinkling, mirroring your own. You think Astarion is too stunned to speak. Angel wasn’t particularly threatening, but married men do not often take kindly to seeing other naked men so close to their marital bed, unless invited, of course.

You curl your hand around Astarion’s bicep, shamelessly taking a second to admire the hardness and shape of it before stepping in front of him, squaring yourself up to your patron. Your admiration of your husband’s body has you briefly ruminating on that drow, that shell of a man that you enjoyed. You can’t recall how he died.

“You tore off his jaw and ripped out his tongue, and then your spawn dismembered him and set him on fire!” Angel explains with excitement. “You were really screaming at that one, too, that pretty one. But I got outta there after a while. You sounded like a banshee! It was horrible~”

“He’s my patron. Not a very useful one,” You explain as Astarion grabs your hand, prompting you to swivel your head, meeting his gaze. You see the desperation in your husband’s eyes, his desire to know what all has happened to his beloved. “He removed the silver on one of my legs, and I freed him from some box in Geldon Moth’s weird museum before I attacked.”

“I unlocked the doors for you, didn’t I?” Angel replies, reaching for your hand before you can wretch it away from his grasp.

You hadn’t even noticed the doors beyond the first one that you had to use a scroll to open. “You promised to get me back to Astarion! I don’t even know how many vampires I had to kill with my bare fucking hands. And I was walking in the woods for hours!”

“Don’t be mad, girl. I knew you’d be okay. A master always finds his pet, and with all those ancient draconic magical barriers the dude had up, when he died, I knew your husband would find you. And he did, and you’re fine now, hurray!” Angel brings your hand to his lips, planting a kiss in your palm, causing Astarion to growl next to you.

“Don’t kiss my wife,” Astarion demands, baring his fangs as he gently tugs you to him, but Angel still holds onto your wrist, his grip only becoming more firm.

“Don’t be married to my favorite payee! Aha~” Angel smiles at Astarion, only making your vampire scowl deeper. “Listen, beautiful,” Angel looks to you.

“No-no, you listen –“ You start, but before you can continue, Angel interrupts.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about our little eye exchange! Please forgive me, Mrs. Ancunín,” Angel says, finding the intent of your words in your head, seemingly thinking it was a waste of breath. He doesn’t wait for you to respond before continuing.

“Anyways, I’ve got two things for you: a new task and a new pact boon, so c’mere,” Angel says as he tugs you closer, breaking you away from Astarion’s grasp. Angel’s touch feels like the first time you met him: warm, inviting…almost safe. His hands move to either side of your face, and you realize he’s about to kiss you.

Astarion lunges at him, but Angel is unaffected, having teleported across the room in the blink of an eye. Whatever form Angel has taken was rather powerful, and he simply raises an eyebrow at the two of you as Astarion pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you defensively.

“I’ve held my tongue and my arm because you clearly have some dealings with my wife, but you certainly won’t be kissing her, you mongrel,” Astarion’s voice comes out a deep growl, guttural, and you can’t remember the last time you heard him sound that way. “Keep your hands to yourself!”

“Your faces are just too pretty to be so stinky. Cheer up!” Angel practically twinkles, his radiance making you feel some sort of kinship for his light, deep inside of you. “I’m not gonna hurt her. I love Tav! I need her!”

“Don’t say you love my wife, either.”

“How could I not love her? I’m her God,” Angel’s arms fold, his almond eyes devastating you even from across the room. He has an air of eroticism about him, something that deeply stirs you and Astarion both. It has some particular effect on you, but you hardly understand it.

Despite this, you cling to Astarion, practically begging him not to attack Angel again: it just felt like a really really bad idea, and your gut churned at the thought.

“What do you need me to do?” Yousound measured, leveled, your stomach still bubbling with anxiety.

“Well, okay, see – there’s this relic I need you to get. It’s actually a sword, or a spear, and I just so happen to know exactly where it is!” Angel’s stare is fixated on you. “Go on. Ask me where it is.”

You grit your teeth. “Where is it?”

“The ruins of Baldur’s Gate!” Angel brings out his hands, allowing this to ruminate, but you and Astarion hardly react. “Oh, come on. That’s the old stomping grounds, right? I hear most of the statues of the six heroes and several of Grand Duke Ravengard still stand today.”

“Were you even alive when we lived in Baldur’s Gate? Were you even alive when it fell?” Astarion asks, his frustration apparent.

“Does it really matter? I need this weapon, and Tav is going to get it for me,” Angel’s composure falls for just a moment; you think he’s annoyed, maybe tired, but he hardly shows it. When he’s put the mask back on, the look in his eyes is one of desire.

“And now for the boon.” Angel slowly walks over to you, his hand outstretched towards you. You find yourself looking deeply into his eyes, the warm gold and the decadent crimson bringing you a sense of familiarity. You feel comfortable and seen, and you’re tempted to take his hand.

“What is this, Tav?” Astarion asks you angrily, his voice rasping in your ear.

“I think…I think I know,” You say, stepping out of Astarion’s arms. Astarion doesn’t hold you back, but he scowls deeper than ever, his eyes watering in anger and jealousy. A kiss must be part of the pact.

“You do know. The part of me that’s in you knows,” Angel says as his hand meets yours. “And the part of you that’s in me wants it. It’s just a little kiss…think of it as a team building exercise; although, there are more intimate ways we could do that.”

“You dare –“ Astarion begins.

“Astarion,” You interrupt, breaking your once locked-in gaze with Angel, turning to your lover. Astarion’s ears almost flatten as you look at him, his eyes rounding at you. You can tell how difficult this is for him: for you both.

“Don’t, Tav,” Astarion pleads. The desperation in his voice devastates you. He brings his voice to a whisper: “Please.”

You step back towards Astarion, away from Angel.

“She kinda doesn’t have a choice, if that makes you feel better!” Angel exclaims, his smile ceaseless. “Besides, what was the point of all of this if you won’t accept my full power? I know you want it, girl.”

You fight to hold your tongue at this last part; the tension in the room was already so thick with Astarion fuming next to you, you think arguing with Angel will only make it worse.

Astarion puffs his chest. “She won’t be doing anything until I’ve reviewed her contract terms.”

Angel is uncharacteristically silent. Astarion looks at you, and your face says it all. “Darling, do not tell me. Don’t you dare say that you don’t know.” Astarion’s face darkens, a shadow crossing over his eyes as he glares at you.

“I don’t know them.” You look at your feet as you say this. Your husband used to be a magistrate: he was educated in law and politics, oversaw many aspects of government in Toril, and to be very clear, was very very knowledgeable on contracts. The fact that his own wife didn’t think to ask about the terms simply angers him.

“I didn’t know what else to do. I was so desperate,” You explain, feeling something white and hot rise within you. “Must I explain myself to you?”

Astarion’s eyes widen at your irritation, but Angel hardly gives him time to speak.

“She was so desperate! So eager,” Angel says, twirling his hair with a finger. “Geldon Moth likes to break his toys. You’re lucky she’s even alive. Thanks to me, of course.”

The truth of his words slice through you. The sheer emotion Astarion puts off is cold, harsh, and you feel yourself tense up further, your nails digging into your palm. Angel doesn’t really seem to notice or care.

“Give them to me, now.” Astarion is a force to be reckoned with when angered, and you can tell he’s trying to be measured here.

“Tav, close your left eye. It’s been there the whole time!” Angel explains. “You just gotta, like, think about it and focus on it.” Angel takes a breath before muttering, “I think.”

“What in the hells do you mean by ‘I think’? Are you using my woman–“

“Your wife, Astarion, I’m your wife,” You interject.

“That you are. And you are my very life, Tav,” Astarion amends before turning to Angel. “My wife is your first warlock, isn’t she?”

Angel smiles, giving Astarion a wink.

You curse him under your breath as you cover your left eye with your hand, trying to focus on Angel and what he provided you. But on the inside, you don’t feel any different. Still coming to terms with the separation of your mind from Astarion’s, it was hard to feel anything but his absence.

But still, Angel didn’t lie. The words of the terms begin to appear before your eyes, glittering in cursive gold behind your lid.

“I can’t lie, you know,” Angel’s smile turns into a smirk, and it is almost smug – almost.

“That’s a myth.” Astarion crosses his arms. “Don’t spin tales to my wife like that. I won’t let her hear it. And don’t –“

“Before you say that next part, I can’t help reading minds. It’s something that never stops!”

“What in the hells, Angel,” You turn, interrupting the men’s banter, the churning in your gut making you feel sick.

****

Covenant of the Pleasurable Exchange

This document serves as a binding agreement between [True Name], hereinafter referred to as “The Patron,” a being of celestial descent and terrestrial fall, and Tav Ancunín, hereinafter referred to as “Mrs. Ancunín,” an ancient being of vampiric origin.

I. Granting of the Boon

The Patron hereby agrees to bestow upon Mrs. Ancunín a boon of significant power, the nature of which shall be determined by the needs and the will of The Patron.

II. The Sacred Exchange

The granting of the aforementioned boon is contingent upon the completion of a Sacred Exchange, to be carried out in two parts, detailed as follows:

The Twilight Kiss: Mrs. Ancunín shall bestow upon The Patron a kiss, symbolizing the merging of life and undeath. This act shall also initiate the transfer of energies between the two parties, allowing The Patron to feed off the sexual energy of Mrs. Ancunín, in a manner that sustains The Patron’s existence within the mortal realm.

The Aetherial Gaze: Mrs. Ancunín and The Patron shall exchange one eye each, symbolizing a deep understanding and shared vision between the realms of life and undeath. Other parts of the body may be exchanged with the mutual consent of The Patron and Mrs. Ancunín, the powers of which to be determined at the time of exchange.

III. Conditions and Responsibilities

Sustenance of The Patron: Mrs. Ancunín acknowledges the necessity for The Patron to feed off her sexual energy as part of the Sacred Exchange. This sustenance is limited to the energy produced through the act of the Twilight Kiss and any subsequent acts agreed upon by both parties, respecting the boundaries of consent and willingness. Other sexual acts may be performed to provide sustenance to The Patron.

Protection of the Shared Vision: Upon the exchange of eyes, both The Patron and Mrs. Ancunín are bound to protect the new vision granted by this covenant. The Patron and Mrs. Ancunín acknowledge the permanency of the exchange of eyes and all other bodily exchanges.

Secrecy and Discretion: The terms of this covenant, along with the powers and insights gained from it, shall remain a closely guarded secret, shared only between The Patron and Mrs. Ancunín.

IV. Termination

This covenant may be dissolved under conditions mutually agreed upon by both parties. However, the insights and powers gained shall remain.

V. Signatures

This covenant is sealed with a kiss, paid for by Mrs. Ancunín to The Patron on the date of 19 Ches, 3502 D.R.

****

“What the fuck. This isn’t okay,” Your words coming hurling from your lips as you bare your fangs at Angel. Sexual energy? Sustenance? The exchange of body parts? Secrecy?

“What? What does it say?” Astarion asks, his voice frantic as he puts his hands on you again, grabbing at your waist.

Angel smiles at you. “This is a fairly common contract, girl. And the secrecy clause is the only part of the contract you can talk about. Now that I’m free, I really do need that kiss.” Angel pouts, his eyebrows knitting together. “And you’ll really need the boon for your task, I promise you. One little kiss is all I need, and you’ll have your power. You’ll have to complete the task either way, ha~”

The white hot rage within you wells up to your chest. It hurts, tightening your muscles and making your bones ache, so much that it makes you want to scream, or maybe cry, you aren’t sure which.

“Get out of my face,” You sneer, your fangs bared. You’ve put yourself in front of Astarion. You felt so empty inside, you’re grasping at something to connect you back to yourself, the only thing yearning inside of you is the desire to offensively protect. “Get off my territory. Begone, son of Lastai!”

Angel tilts his head down, his eyes looking sharp. His pretty lips still hold his hallmark smile. “I can see you’re upset, Mrs. Ancunín. I’ll come back later.”

The moment he’s gone, you’ve given yourself over to Astarion, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing him into a close hug. He immediately reciprocates, his arms firmly around you.

“I promise I will get you out of this,” Astarion whispers. He plants a wet kiss to the scar on your forehead, pressing the tip of his nose to your skin as he speaks.

“We did it for Wyll all those years ago.” Astarion pulls away from you, so that he can meet your far off gaze. His eyes are rounded, his eyebrows turned down with worry. “Remember him, my love?”

But your eyes are wild, because you can’t stop thinking that all of this is your fault. Astarion cups your cheeks, his thumbs gently rubbing at your temples.

“I don’t know what to do, Tav…” Astarion begins, but his words are failing him. “I love you. Nothing that occurred during your captivity could ever make me love you any less.” Astarion’s voice cracks, and you know he’s (trying not to) thinking of his own past.

“Love…” You say, as you too are at a loss for words. All you can do is gently caress his jaw as you bring his lips to yours, rubbing the tip of your nose to his after you’ve released yourself from a passionate embrace.

When you arrive at Astarion’s office, hand in hand with your forever love, Lae’zel keeps her face straight. Your appearance doesn’t frighten her, but fills her heart with sorrow. Your eye, your scars – Lae’zel can’t help but notice the long sleeves you wore and the marks that marred your neck. You were still beautiful, and the longer Lae’zel studied you, the more powerful and bright your aura became: you are more stunning to her than you’d ever been. And by the obvious way Astarion can’t take his eyes off you, Lae’zel knew he felt the same.

“I’m very relieved to see you, Tav.” Lae’zel smiles, her tone sweeter than usual. She brings you into an awkward hug, which you accept, patting her on the back. You really do mean it, this hug, and you’re relieved to see your old friend: but a touch that wasn’t Astarion’s was a touch that may not be safe. You briefly wonder if even your husband’s touch was safe.

You also wonder if Lae’zel’ blood is as thick and sweet as it smells…“I’m glad to see you too. Did you get that thing I grabbed for you?”

“I did. That was…” Lae’zel wasn’t about to hurt your feelings. You had grabbed Orpheus’s prison for her, which was something Lae’zel hadn’t particularly wanted, but she had a feeling you knew not what it was. “Thank you. I was glad to see some items from our adventure still remain.”

“It had githyanki letters on it. And it smelled like you, and I remember you being really concerned about it. I was concerned about it too, I’m sure. So I grabbed it.”

Astarion and Lae’zel look at each other, and you see the gith is trying to restrain her laughter. When you study your husband closer, you realize he too is trying not to laugh.

Stupid. You’re stupid. They also think you’re stupid. You frown, your eyebrows knitting together as you look at the two of them. “What? You both laugh because I can’t remember?”

Your question comes out sounding more angry than you intend. Lae’zel and Astarion look surprised at your outburst. Astarion has his hands on you immediately, softly petting and cooing at you to calm down, that they meant nothing by it.

“My love, you used to throw this relic around camp, kicking it into the dirt, cursing at the damned thing to open. You and Lae’zel would…” Astarion looks to Lae’zel expectantly.

“Smack talk. Shit talk, if you will,” Lae’zel adds with a light smile, trying to lighten the mood.

“The two would decimate this thing with your words,” Astarion explains. “And once we discovered the tentacled freak inside, you didn’t stop.”

“Thank you for bringing it to me, Tav. This symbolizes the very reason why we fight this war with Vlaakith,” Lae’zel speaks softly, offering you a smile. “I think Orpheus will find this very interesting.”

You take a deep breath, but you can’t shake your thoughts of the red dragonborn. “He called me stupid a lot. Because I couldn’t remember.”

Astarion’s shoulders tense, but he says nothing.

“But he could?” Lae’zel asks.

“Yes.”

Lae’zel pauses, having to find her words. “His estate is in ash. We attempted to scout the area as much as possible, but the underground part of the palace is completely inaccessible.”

“You’re saying everything is gone?”

Lae’zel nods. “It’s hardly safe for anyone to go down there.”

You let your memories mull within you, trying to decide whether you should share. The past is so painful, and you knew it would hurt if you started to talk about it.

“He had so much stuff down there. He had been collecting for a long time,” You say as you walk over to lounge on Astarion’s daybed. It was luxurious and comfortable, but it was apparent it hadn’t been lived in. Astarion sat at your feet, putting your bottom half in his lap. You think this position may be a little intimate to be doing in front of Lae’zel, but you know Astarion only means to hold you in some way. He sighs as he unlaces your shoes (annoyed after having just laced them for you), revealing your freshly polished toes, one hand resting at the arch of your foot, the other wrapped around your calf.

Astarion had given you the pedicure himself. The job wasn’t quite perfect, but he thought you looked pretty regardless. “You’re so perfect.”

Lae’zel sits at Astarion’s desk, crossing her arms, getting down to business. If she didn’t stop this sappy love fest, it would never end. “We will have more time for a reunion later. The others who remained at the crèche have already made their way to Fort Lash’ki, a city nestled deep in the Astral.”

“We won’t be returning to the Crystalline Spire?” You ask as you lightly kick at Astarion, who has run his finger up your foot teasingly, trying to make you smile again. When you finally relent, flashing him your fangs as you laugh, Lae’zel is relieved to see Astarion’s own smile. But it made her realize that Astarion truly doesn’t see anyone but you, and you hardly would see anyone but him, reminding her of the past: of when she first realized you were no longer hers.

Lae’zel glares at Astarion for failing to tell you. She expected this, but it irritates her just the same. “No. The plan was to fly to the Astral after the banquet, and there have been many moons since then.”

“But –“ Astarion begins.

“But you demand that we cannot leave until we find some solution for the silver, I know.”

“And there’s also another little kink in our plan,” Astarion’s smirk nearly fails him.

Your eyes are shifting to your right leg. Angel’s influence has you staring at it. Is this an offer? Before Astarion can continue, you blurt,“I think we should ask Angel to remove it.”

Lae’zel releases the greatest sigh known to man. “Explain.”

****

The meeting with Lae’zel took more out of you than you were willing to admit, but Astarion notices, pushing back your reunion with your warriors, the two of you retreating to your bedroom once more.

“My leg burns,” You say; you can’t help but look at Astarion expectantly, as if he has the magic key to your freedom from pain. “It hurts.”

“I know, my love. I’m sorry,” Astarion lays you down, bringing you some wine to take off the edge. “You’ve moved it a lot today. Just try to rest for now.”

Astarion gathers you in his arms, which you joyously accept, the warmth of his body sending shivers down your spine. The two of you are like puzzle pieces, fitting together perfectly as you both reach a level of comfort that could only be achieved with one another. You sit in silence for a while; Astarion hums a tune to you, your eyes beginning to close as you nearly drift off.

But your mind remains disturbed. “I’ve never felt more physical pain in my life than when I woke up with one on each limb.” But after just a beat, your courage fails you : “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Your voice comes out weak as Astarion brushes through your hair with his fingers, his nails lightly trailing against your skin.

“That’s alright,” Astarion replies, his voice smooth and soft.

You turn over, facing him. The two of you lie down on your side, where you gaze deeply into his eyes for some time. You’re trying to read each other, to see into one another’s soul.

“I love you, Star.” You say, remembering how you spoke those words aloud before you fought Moth, not knowing if you would ever see your husband again. Astarion doesn’t try to hide the tears in his eyes, and you swipe a thumb across his cheek before popping it into your mouth, tasting the salt of his tears.

As you rest, Astarion finds himself unable to stop staring at the remaining silver band on your body. He tries to busy himself, massaging you or reading to you throughout the day, but it bothers him to no end. One hand idly rubbing the arch of your foot, Astarion inspects the band closer, whispering a few spells to try to pinpoint the magic – nothing he and dozens of practiced wizards and healers hadn’t already tried before.

Later, after a quiet dinner, Astarion reads to you before you fall back to sleep. The sensation of the constant burning is exhausting to you, and you were sleeping far more than a vampire should.

Astarion has laid out his studies on the floor of your bedroom, a couch cushion as a seat as he sorts through his best knowledge bases. He runs his hands through his hair, trying to focus on the task at hand: gathering what information he could on celestial contracts.

The kiss is part of the contract. Astarion knows that is fairly common, especially for a celestial hailing from the pleasure domain. Angel must get something from the kiss, Astarion knows. But the exchange of eyes. That can’t be common: self sacrifice is, but an exchange?

The last of Astarion’s focus leaves him as you murmur something incoherent in your sleep, rolling over onto your back. Astarion jumps up from his cross legged position, sitting at the edge of your bed as he studies you.

You had wanted to cover up during your visit with Lae’zel despite Astarion’s assurance of your beauty. But now, as Astarion watches you sleep, he was never more sure about your exquisite appearance.

You slept in just panties and one of Astarion’s old linen shirts. You had one leg out straight while the other was bent, resembling a ballerina. Adorable. Your hands were thrown above your head, having long abandoned your pillow.

Astarion can’t help but slide his hand beneath your shirt, feeling your soft, supple skin, doing his best not to wake you. He pushes his nose into your hair, breathing in deeply, taking your scent in. He wants to taste your blood: he’s craving it, so deeply it makes his mouth water and his fangs ache with anticipation.

You stir, nuzzling into him further. Excited by your reciprocation, Astarion begins to pepper kisses on your face, careful not to bother, while also feeding that desire within him to make you his once again. Just knowing you were here to freely touch, to kiss, to hold. His cock is so hard it’s almost painful, and he wants to be enveloped in your wet, gummy walls. He knows you’d be so tight, so delicious, and he’s already imagining the smell of your arousal.

But it had only been a few days since your triumph, still weak from the silver and the fright of it all. Astarion taking you during the heat of your arrival was one thing, but he knew this was another. Trying to take you now would be wrong of him…wouldn’t it?

Astarion fights his intrusive thoughts, the one that wants to open you up, force his way through to you. He imagines you fighting a great red beast away, only to be overpowered and taken. The other intrusive thought, the one where you are moaning, whimpering, coming for a handsome man, one far larger than Astarion himself, cuts into him almost just as deep.

His desire to dominate fills his entire being. Astarion blames his nature as your master as his hand comes to rest at the base of your throat, his other hand tangling in your hair. “I miss you, my love.”

His words are meant to rouse you, to wake you so that he could conquer your body. But when your eyes open, you’ve grabbed him, the two of you flying across the room as you bring him to the ground, your legs straddling his torso. Astarion hadn’t anticipated your movement but tried to protect you as much as he could, his own body hitting the ground with a loud thump. Your knees knocked into the marble, but Astarion saw no signs of pain in your eyes, only fury.

No. That isn’t right. Because he can see the sadness and pain within you, and it foamed so close to the edge that it was spilling over. Astarion begins using his words to calm you, because he was good at it, and he didn’t know how else to comfort you if you wouldn’t accept his touch or his cock.

“It’s me, you’re alright, I’m sorry I woke you, please calm down–”

You bare your fangs as you back away from him, your eyes darting wildly around the bedroom before you swiftly turn into a bat. You fly towards the open balcony, Astarion following you in tow.

****

Masterlist

taglist: @viowolf

#soft ascended astarion #astarion x reader #ascended astarion x reader #astarion x female tav #ascended astarion x female tav #spawn tav #vampire tav #lord astarion #ascended astarion x you #astarion x you #Killing Time

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lazarus-writes-nonsense · 1 month

Text

#the results for this aren’t gonna be set in stone #it’ll just help my muddled mind #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #john price x reader #john price x female reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #tf 141 x reader #141 x reader #f!reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz x reader #soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #monster! tf141 #cod fanfic

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sh1-n0bu · 2 years

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✿ 𝙪𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙 ✿

Character: Vampire! Scaramouche x Reader

Warning: Blood, biting, nudity (but nothing too nsfw, y’all just open your button up shirts), cursing, angst, fluff, hurt/reverse comfort, gn! reader, Scaramouche might be a bit OOC here, Victorian!AU, a bit of everything lmao

no beta-read, we die like my will to live

first time actually writing on Tumblr low-key nervous ngl🤭

‘Whew, what a long day. But at least I managed to sell a lot tod-‘ hearing a glass shatter as you were closing up your tiny herbs and medicine shop was definitely not the way you wanted to finish your night. Your little shop was the only one that sells medicine in this small town without charging for extra moras unlike the big, famous ones the rich people like to go to. Everyone in this small town was forever grateful and respectful to you and your shop. Whenever your new boxes of goods would come, the people would always lend you a hand without you asking for it, and for that you were always grateful. So when your shop’s second floor window suddenly got broken in by a short man with a noble people clothes, you were greatly surprised. But now was not the time because he was bleeding and you don’t enjoy letting blood get everywhere unless it’s the small surgery room.

“Sir! Sir, can you hear me? Sir? I need you to get up so i can carry you to the surgery room!” shaking his shoulders while asking him basic questions, you definitely know his still alive because he still had a pulse. Before you can forcefully drag him like a corpse to the lower floor, the man yanked you down to the floor and straddled your waist.

“Hey! What do you think your doing?!” usually you’re not one for violence but if he was drunk off his ass and was thinking of molesting you, he’s got a rough, calloused hand to be slapped by.

“Shut up… I don’t h-have enough time… for your stupid babbling… nonsense…” before you can question what he was mumbling about the stranger tore off your cravet tie and had placed his mouth on your neck.

“You-?! Get off of me this instant you- Ow!” when you tried to kick him off, the stranger pinned your hands down and bit your neck harshly. You can already feel blood pouring out and it was not pleasant. Through all of your suffering the man was sucking and licking the blood off, almost like a depraved animal and you swore you could feel something akin to animal fangs penetrating your neck before your vision started to have black dots in the corner and you passed out due to blood loss.

—

When you woke up the next morning with a perfectly bandaged neck and your assaulter coming into the small attic room with something to eat and drink, you were ready to throw hands. It didn’t matter to you if he was some rich, snobby, nobleson or even the son of the queen. For all you care, this son of a bitch bit your neck so hard to the point he drew blood and caused you to pass out.

“Oh, you’re awake. Now before you start screaming your lungs off like a banshee let me explain myself first”

“And why the hell should I? You son of a bitch bit me like a fucking animal!” he chuckled at that. Now that you actually took a closer look at him, he was a rather odd looking fellow. There wasn’t anything rare or monstrous about his looks but, there was just something odd about him. And one thing you learned from years of running and managing a shop all by yourself is to trust your guts.

“Well you’re an interesting little thing. I have never met a human who reacts like you after what happened. But if you want me to explain myself then you have to keep your mouth shut little mouse”. You certainly didn’t like the way he referred to you. Like some kind of an insect, some kind of a toy that’s for his amusement who will later on get thrown away if he lost interest in you. But as long as he doesn’t get a centimeter closer, then you’re willing to cooperate.

“Fine. But if you get closer to me I won’t hesitate to smack you out of the window you broke last night” he laughed dryly at that. Seems like he was getting more and more amused by you and your choice of words.

“Oh, you’re an interesting one little mouse. Makes me want to keep toying with you like this. So little mouse…” he stalked closer to you despite what you had just said and leaned down to look at you right in the eyes. You didn’t like it. Not one bit. You wanted to punch him in his face and knock his teeth in but moving has never felt harder and your limbs has never felt like tons of bricks before. So you decided to challenge him and stared right back. The stranger’s stormy violet eyes seemed to darken and swirl. Getting uncomfortably close to your face he asked

“…Do you believe in vampires?”

—

It has already been 11 months since your run in with Scaramouche. Ever since he dropped the bomb that yes, vampires are very much real and not just some fairytale told by story-tellers and your parents to keep you awake at night you and Scaramouche had started some odd relationship. He would come by every now and then, through the door thankfully, and stay the night or a few in an exchange of helping you out with your shop. You would sometimes teach him a thing or two about herbs, medicines, wound treatment and he would talk about his kin and about himself if he feels like it. And on some nights, he would tear off your tie, forcefully pin you down and suck your blood until you passed out then in the morning you would scold him as he treats the bitemarks that he caused. It was a very strange relationship, the two of you had. More intimate than friends but not intimate enough to be considered lovers. Reading each other like an open book but also not exactly knowing what each other do or even enjoy. It was an odd line Scaramouche and you two were threading on.

The bells that hung above your hole in the corner shop’s doors jingled softly as someone came in. The medic knew who it was for this had happened all too frequently. A creaking of the woods sounded closer and closer until the person plotted down on the couch of the backrooms. Finishing up cleaning some jars and boxes, the medic saw the very same vampire they formed an odd relationship with over the last 11 months.

“How was the trip?”

“Fucking tiring” came the groan of Scaramouche. Snickering at his dramatic self, they handed him a cup of tea. The vampire gulped down the whole cup of tea, ignoring how his throat burned. Setting the cup down Scaramouche got up from his seat confusing the shop-keeper.

“Are you leaving again this so-?” before they could finish their question, said vampire began taking off his clothes. Tailcoat, tie, blazer, white button down shirt all fell down on the couch he was sitting on.

Coughing into their gloves, the medic turned their face away hoping to conceal the blooming red on their face, trying to forget what just happened from their memory. Now, the medic was no prude and they got quite used to seeing half naked people due to some harsh injury treatments. But no man they ever performed on was as good-looking as the hot vampire standing in front of them.

“W-what do you think you’re doing? When the shop is still open none the less?” bringing a hand up to cover the side of their face so they won’t accidentally look at his half naked form, the shop owner tried to cool off their face.

Looking at the flustered medic, the vampire smirked, a very mischievous idea forming in his head. Taking the hand that was covering the side of their face, the purple-head looked up studying every detail. His smirk widens when your face gets redder, loving how he was teasing you. His other hand came up to hold your chin, leaning his face in closer and closer to yours, until he suddenly pushed you down on the couch. The hand that was holding yours pinning it down while the other works on taking off your tie and unbuttoning your button down shirt.

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing now?!” grabbing the hand that was stripping you, your [c] eyes looked at his stormy purple ones.

“I’m thirsty. I’ve been away for a week and i’ve only been drinking animal blood and those were fucking disgusting”

“Then why did you take off your clothes dumbass?!”

“They were dirty” he was quite blunt with it. After looking in his eyes if he was lying or not - finding none - you sighed and slowly let go of his hand, letting him finish with his previous actions. Now basically both of you were half-naked.

Fuck, the sexual tension is too damn much, why isn’t he biting? By now he should be on his process of sucking you dry until you pass out but he wasn’t. Instead he was just looking down at you.

Scaramouche’s POV

Oh fuck. He had you like this before but at that time he was too blinded by his hunger he didn’t realize just how damn ethereal you are. Gently running his hands over your tummy and up your chest, he noticed how you shivered and your breath hitched under his fingertips.

Then he looked up at your face, how you were biting your lips and red you were in the face. Your gorgeous [c] eyes looking up at him, waiting for him to bite you, to take your blood, to mark your whole body as his-

‘Oh fuck. This is bad’

When the vampire first met you, he only became acquainted with you just to quench his thirst and hunger but over time he had gotten attached to you as more than just bloodbank. Not only were you understanding, you were also kind, thoughtful, hard-working, intelligent and down-right intoxicating. Then he remembered the dream he had a few nights ago. In that dream he had you just like this. You on your back, beneath him but the difference was that you two seemed more… intimate than whatever you two have going on now. But right now, it wasn’t a dream.

It was real.

You were underneath him, shivering from his cold fingers, red faced, looking up at him with those eyes he fell for. Gulping, Scaramouche leaned down to your neck but instead of what he always does, he started placing soft kisses up your throat and to your chin. He noted how you flinched, shutting your eyes and how your free hand came up to his shoulder not being able to decide if you should push him away or not.

‘Fuck. If you keep being so intoxicating like this how am I suppose to give up on you?’ Scaramouche thought while leaving gentle kisses around your neck and shoulders, sometimes leaving hickeys or gnawing at your skin just to feel you flinch or squirm.

‘Do you have any idea how much I wanted this? How much I wanted you beneath me like this? Flinching and squirming, wiggling and moaning as I make you mine? I wanted it so much I even fucking dreamt about it. I want you. I want you so badly [Name], can’t you see?’ kissing up to your neck once more he finally bit down on the same spot he always bites, sinking his fangs deeper and more harshly just so he can hear you bite back your pained groans and squirm in his hold.

‘I want you. I want you [Name]. I’m a monster that drains someone’s life away and you’re someone that saves others. We’re opposites and yet there’s a saying that goes opposites attract. I know I shouldn’t but I want that to be true so badly’ after gulping down some he retracted his fangs, looking down at you just to see you staring back at him with your soft smile and kind eyes.This snapped something in him as he bit down on the other side of your neck harshly, almost as if wanting to completely tear off your neck. The way his mood changed caused you to jolt and yelp loudly in pain.

‘Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop it. Stop looking at me like that. Stop smiling at me. Stop treating me like a human being or else… I will fall more deeper and I won’t be able to let you go’ Scaramouche stopped and moved away from you, panting and licking his mouth. Both sides of your neck were covered in blood, old and new bite marks littering it while you were panting, trying to recover from his last merciless attack. The sight made him tremble. He wanted you. He needed you. But you weren’t meant for him. He was a monster, you were a medic. He was a killer and you were a savior. Maybe it’ll be best if he just leave you behind and run far away-

A gentle hand on his cheek snapped him out from his spiraling dark thoughts. Looking at you, you were still wearing the same kind expression.

‘You being mine could never happen. But i’ll cherish every moment I share with you as long as you’d let me’ leaning in Scaramouche started cleaning your wounds then softly kissing and leaving hickeys on your upper body.

‘I could never have you’ another kiss ‘but I can’t help but yearn for you’ another bite ‘so i’ll stay here. Right by your side as long as you’d allow me to’

‘I love you. But i’ll kill this feeling over and over again if it means you will be safe and happy’

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