#I literally melt when I see his fangs

[shirofairy]

Just you don't love Malleus' fangs?

Because I do

Just look at them

He's like so cute (and handsome) when he shows his fangs???

*convulses*

Have a good day~💚

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Dating Miguel O’Hara Would Include…

Warnings: Implied Smut, Domestic Miguel !!!, Possessive Miguel, Protective Miguel, Dominant Miguel, Slight Yandere Miguel (if you squint), Fluff, Mild Angst, Hurt/Comfort, No Pronouns used for Reader Except You’.

Miguel being stoic and militant around his associates, but melting into a massive softie when he gets to see you.

His eyes literally light up when he hears you coming. He has to resist the urge to scoop you up into his arms and cuddle you silly whenever he hears you call his name, your tones music to his ears, his heart thrumming – harpstrings.

Golden retriever boyfriend to the MAX.

He brings you breakfast in bed whenever he’s awake before you – which is often considering his vampiric nature. And he looks so proud of himself when he cooks a good meal, too. Literally just a beaming, teeth-filled, closed-eye smile when you tell him he’s “Done such a good job, Babe !”

Any kind of praise sends him absolutely wild, so use it sparingly. It can either get you out of or into a world of trouble; especially if you're trying to get Miguel hot under the collar.

Miguel’s love language is, simply put, everything.

The adoration that swells in his chest whenever he thinks of you manifests as him throwing himself into your service.

He does anything and everything you ask of him, no matter how extravagant or nominal the request is. And everything you don’t.

He isn’t stingy with his words, either; he tells you how much he loves you whenever you’re alone, often coming up behind you and sliding his arms around your front, resting his head on your shoulder and breathing deeply.

He presses soft, careful kisses into the crook of your neck, making sure to keep his fangs from pinching you, inhaling your warmth, your scent.

“I love you.” His heart drums into your back. His lips capture your skin again. “I love you,” And again. “I live for you.” And again.

He’s lived with a lifetime of regret for not being able to protect those he held dear; he won’t allow you to go without knowing the extent of his adoration for you. Not when he feels he never truly got to show his family – his ghosts – how much he loved them.

On a lighter note, Miguel LOVES having his hair played with; just card your fingers through his locks and he’s as good as incapacitated.

After a rough day, he crawls into bed and lays his head in your lap or on your chest, his body winding down in your soft embrace.

He lowkey moans when you catch his sensitive spot, his brows knotting together, his voice coming out as a rasped whisper.

He knows when you’re purposely trying to get him worked up, though. And he doesn’t stand for it.

“Careful Darling,” he glowers, the phantom sensation of you tugging his hair a half-weight on his senses. He cracks an eye open, his wine irises peaking out beneath heavy lids.

“Or I won’t be so gentle when it’s my turn to take care of you.”

Miguel prefers private displays of affection over public displays of affection; he doesn’t want his subordinates knowing he’s gone soft.

But, there are exceptions to this principle.

Like if Miguel’s feeling particularly hot and desperate, by which point he whisks you away to the bathroom and the two of you aren’t seen for a good hour or so. Usually longer.

The other exception is if he’s feeling jealous or possessive, by which point his sensibilities have vacated his mind and he’s right behind you, his hands on your waist, your shoulders – anywhere he can hold you. Or, he’s filling your mouth with his tongue and your ear with his words if the other party present doesn’t get the hint that you’re taken.

“You’re mine,” he rasps, his breath hot, prickling your skin, the tips of his fang drawing goosebumps. Miguel’s eyes shine an ocean red, dark and unknown. He has you caged, arms encompassing you entirely.

“And I’ll never let anyone take you from me.”

Speaking of; Miguel is incredibly possessive.

Years of rumination and a history of scattered failures make for a very territorial man. And it shows.

He keeps his hands on you whenever you’re together or in the presence of someone he thinks can steal you from him; someone better than him.

He stares down at them until they fumble or leave; whichever prevails first. After which point, when you’re alone, he turns you round to look at him and just stares at you like 🥺.

The epitome of ‘Babe you pushed my leg off you while you were asleep; do you still love me ???’

You have to reassure him when things like this occur. Take him by the face and hold him gently in your hands; press a soft kiss to his lips and call him your “One and only,”

Doing so is a one-way ticket to a very long night.

Possessive, heartfelt, grasping, gasping love-making.

Miguel can’t stop until your bottom half is numb and the only thing you’re capable of thinking and saying is his name.

Of course, he rewards you for your endurance after the fact.

Aftercare king right here <333

Treats you like you’re glass; he runs you a bath, brings you your favourite drink and changes the bedsheets.

And, when you’re fast asleep and curled up into his chest, his heart flutters, and, for the first time in his life, he feels that he has stability. Pure, unconditional, everlasting love.

And he’ll sooner dismantle the multiverse himself than let anyone or anything take that from him.

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

[sh1-n0bu]

Can't stop thinking about domming Calcharo

Idk for some reason I see him as breedable-

RAAAGHHH CALCHARO ASKS YEAAHHHHH🔥🔥 its actually super funny cuz ill be going “oh my cutie patootie🫶” “my shy princess🎀” “my wittle baby🥰” and then hes just there, murdering enemies in the background like “STRIKE👹SHIMMER👹unleash the fangs😡whos the prey now?”

service sub. you cannot tell me otherwise. brat? spoiled? nuh-uh. poor man never felt an ounce of normalcy in his life and his job is literally to serve to people who pays him, he’s a service sub

not exactly big on kinks or toys, i think. really likes soft and vanilla sex most of the times in private, in the comfort of your shared home where he can be vulnerable. but if he’s really feeling like it and too damn horny to function, he’ll indulge in the occasional handjob or blowjob behind a stacks of crates or walls

not exactly loud but not exactly dead silent either. not a full blown moaner, but he whines and whimpers so sweetly. likes to hug you or stay close to you so you can hear how quickly he’s turning into a putty in your hand while his hands desperately cling to your biceps or forearms for a little bit of grounding

won’t do anything without your permission, really. you wanna try something? sure. chastity cages? a ring around his cock? or even a vibrator you wanna shove up his hole while he tries to maintain composure? he’s all in for it. just please don’t torture him for too long, he might just lose his facade in the wrong place. would whine and apologize if he cums too quickly or without asking for your permission. weak knees ready to buckle beneath him while he whimpers out how sorry he is for cumming without your permission

he’s so cute :((

really loves markings, me thinks. scratching is fine but he really really really loves bitemarks. on him? on you? doesn’t matter. do whatever you want to him and he’ll take it like a good boy. don’t worry of his men seeing the marks, his clothes will cover him plenty, just hurry up and sink your fangs into his flesh, mark him as yours

might be into some predator/prey thing because of his voicelines,,,,,, and some size difference kink. he’s a big, intimidating guy so the thought of his lover being smaller than him even by a single inch and still being able to catch him or rat him out from hiding gets his pants feeling a little bit tighter. it doesn’t even have to completely sexual all the time too! just brush against him when reaching for something in the fridge, a hand over his waist when moving past him in a small space, guide him to give you some space with a hand on his lower back while you walk past him — and calcharo’s already thinking of how you could use those hand placements to fuck him dumb for the rest of the day

big nose, big dick!! and he really lives up to it. just like his body type, his cock is a bit on the fatter side i think. just a teensy bit thicker all around with a very cute sensitive tip. be sure to suck on his sensitive tip to get your puppy whining about how his mind is melting at record speed! he’ll be thrashing his legs and shaking his head, saying he can’t cum again but he refuses to safe word or push your head away. too bad calcharo, you’ll be crying in no time soon

hips mmmgghhhh… his hips are so squeeze-able when fucking him from behind. push him into a doggy style with his chest down against the bed, ass perched up for you to fuck his puckering hole. or just push him flat down against the mattress while you roughly fuck into him from behind while your hands leave bruises on his hips. he’ll whine about his cock being neglected as the poor thing weeps precum on the sheets, squished between his body and the material of the beddings with no mercy to touch himself. just slap his ass or squeeze his hips and he’ll learn to be a good boy again

also might be into some light pet play or simply being collared and leashed. y’know with the whole hound thing and stuff. leash him up and put him into a mating press and he’s whimpering and throwing his head back like the cute pup he is. will try to deny it, saying things like “n-not a… p-pu—uunngh haah aah annhcg puppy! not a puppy..!” with a shake of his head. just coo out that he does sound like one and he’s voice is sounding a bit higher as he whimpers loudly

idk why but i just have a feeling that he’ll be into sounding… idk whyyyyy okay?? it just,,, seems like something he would be into. has the fastest reactions and dry orgasms when his dick is all plugged up while your hand slowly jerks off his cock. you don’t even have to tease him and he’s already asking for a permission to cum

[holybibly]

I can't stop thinking about that bunny, so today seems to be all about Sanhwa.

Unholy thoughts of today: Aristocratic blue blood vampires Sanhwa who cannot share you with each other.

Such auctions were nothing new. Ever since the advent of the vampire in the human world, auctions of this kind had been commonplace. There were many reasons for the attendance of an auction, but the main ones were money and sex.

Right now, you were sitting on a velvet pillow watching two divinely beautiful vampires about to gnaw each other's throats to get to you first.

San and Seonghwa were something of royalty in the vampire world, their covens rooted in dark and terrible times, which only strengthened their authority and power among their kind.

When you caught San's burning, sharp gaze early in this evening, you knew that at the end of the night you would find yourself in his bed, with his fangs in your neck and his cock deep in your pussy. And frankly, the prospect was more than attractive to you. Especially when you considered that the vampire was literally radiating 'daddy' energy, and maybe, just maybe, you had a big kink for that.

But within an hour, you were literally writhing under the hypnotic gaze of Seonghwa as he devoured you with his eyes. Your confidence about the end of this night was shaken, especially when his long tongue slowly slid over his sensual, plump lips, making them shiny and wet, just as your cunt had become from this view.

When you were informed that your "lot" had been purchased and you were asked to go to a special room to do the paperwork, you didn't expect to see two vampires on the verge of sinking their fangs into each other's throats or fucking each other. The energy between them was so hot and intense and full of sex that even the auction organisers were uncomfortable.

And so you ended up on your velvet pillow, watching San and Seonghwa circle around you like predators, barely holding back their urge to pounce on you to fuck you senseless and then drink you until they were drunk. Although they could get drunk on more than just your blood, you had heard that vampires could get drunk on pussy very quickly, and as you knew, yours tasted amazing, according to all those boys whose tongues managed to get between your legs.

San was the first to break down, wrapping his hand around your throat and pulling you towards him for a kiss. And damn, he kissed divinely. Powerful, dominant, hot, fuck, he was just a "daddy," and you melted under the skillful movements of his mouth and tongue, already imagining how it would feel all over your body.

But no matter how beautiful San was, nothing could make you forget the presence of the second vampire, especially when two of his long fingers slid into your hole without much effort. You were so damn wet that it was almost embarrassing.

"So damn wet for me." Seonghwa purred velvetily in your ear. And you shuddered, pulling away from San's lips, causing the magnificent vampire to growl and press harder against your throat. Seonghwa's fingertips pressed perfectly against your J-spot, and you arched your spine, thrusting your ass out, increasing the pressure of his fingers on your sweet spot.

"I y-yes, everything is for you." You barely whisper as San tightens his fingers around your throat, effectively cutting off your oxygen supply.

"For us, my queen. For us..." He leans closer to you, his cold breath tickling the sensitive skin on your ear. On the other hand, you feel Seonghwa's lips begin to plant wet, sloppy kisses on your shoulder. "You must never forget that you belong to both of us, my queen. Or daddy will have to punish you to remind you of that. And I can assure you that only I will have the pleasure of it."

As black spots begin to dance in front of your eyes and your body goes limp as if on the verge of losing consciousness, San unclenches his fingers and allows you to breathe. You greedily swallow the air while Seonghwa continues to relentlessly fuck your pussy with his fingers, and this contrast of sensations almost drives you crazy and makes you cum right away.

"Well, well, San, don't be so rude to her; we're not in a hurry, and you have all the time in the world to teach her good behaviour. Now let's fuck her; I'm hungry and not just for her blood.".

[ineylesian]

ME, OR HIM?

─ SIMON “GHOST” RILEY X FEM! READER

AO3 | MASTERLIST | CODENAME: FANGS MASTERLIST

WORD COUNT | 4k+

SUMMARY | las almas was burning at the hands of the shadow company. and you…

you had disappeared on the site of the fuerzas especiales HQ betrayal without a single trace to follow. in under 24 hours you were declared an alpha threat to the task force. Now, the city was under a veil of death and horror, words of commandment spread under the names graves and cobra.

yet, there was still digging to be done, and lieutenant simon “ghost” riley wasn’t quite done with you. after all, cobras always have a reason to strike.

WARNINGS | smut, vaginal sex, overstimulation, fingering, cunnilingus, jealous sex, implied graves x reader, biting, scratching, canon typical violence, ghost being a jealous hoe

AUTHOR’S NOTE | god i am literally such a whore for ghost it’s unreal. also, reader goes by the codename cobra, so you’ll know what that means when it pops up. graves also calls you fangs a few times bc he’s sexy like that

THIS WORK IS MEANT TO BE WRITTEN IN AN ADULT READER’S POINT OF VIEW. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

“Cobra? Do you copy”

“Cobra. Come in, it’s Ghost.”

“Y/n? Do you read me?”

A soft buzz echoed inside your earpiece as the static began to fade, melting desperate calls to the distant fizzle of newborn embers. Your earpiece was gingerly unhooked from your ear before a pair of arms hoisted you up, gently setting you to slump against the nearest wall.

“You awake, Fangs?”

Your eyes slowly peaked open from the call of a familiar voice, leading you to drag an arm over your eyelids before prying them fully open. Just a few inches away from you kneeled Graves, sifting through a small first aid kit laid out on the ground below. He glanced over to see that you were indeed alive, offering a soft smile your way before returning to the half assembled needle in his hand.

“Hey.” Your eyes shot back open at the feeling of him rolling one of your sleeves up. “Try and sit still. You’ll feel a Hell of a lot better in a few seconds.”

Droplets of rain kissed the newly exposed patch of your skin, coating the area in a gloss that gave way to the thin veins below. Graves ran a gloved hand along your forearm, stopping just before your elbow to bring the needle right beside his pointer finger. You hissed at the sudden feeling of a sharp tick in your arm, yet found yourself gasping at the surges of heat that came right after it. Your hands subconsciously clamped around Graves’ shoulders as the flames of adrenaline licked through your blood, ending in the faint scent of smoke nearby.

“That’s it, Fangs. You’re alright.” Graves affirmed, tucking your loose arm around his neck before pulling you to stand. “You okay to stand?”

“Yeah.”

Graves nodded, allowing you to untangle yourself from his upper region and stand straight. Your gaze was soon pulled from your dirtied vest as he dropped your earpiece on the ground, smashing it dead into the dirt with his boot. Before you could even articulate a response to his sudden agression, your attention was pulled to the sound of approaching tires.

“Your men, I’m guessing?” You questioned, taking the new earpiece from his extended hand. “What’s going on here, Graves?”

The man before you simply shook his head, signaling to the oncoming vehicle with a wave. You grit your teeth at him, taking his outstretched arm before pulling him into a shaded patch of the alleyway.

“You wanna fucking explain that stunt you pulled back at Fuerzas, huh?” You growled, shoving his back against the soddened walls. “Playing Mr. Nice Guy doesn’t work on your enemies, Phi.”

“You think I have a choice, Y/n?” Graves snapped back, tilting his head almost comically at you. “In case you forgot, we are OWNED by Shepherd, whether we like it or not. I did the best I could.”

“COMMANDER GRAVES?”

You pulled off of him at the sound of pounding footsteps, emerging from the shadows with a grim expression set upon your features. Graves was quick to follow, adjusting his vest before leaning down to level with your ear.

“We lost our rights to free will a while ago, Fangs. But that doesn’t change a damn thing when it comes to you, okay?”

An erratic chill ran down your spin as Graves used the last of his cover to run a hand along your side, stopping to give your wrist a light squeeze before fully emerging into the light.

He was right. You had lost your right to life two months ago. But choosing not to fight back? Turning on the people who had the most capacity to apprehend Shepherd?

“… right on. Cobra and I will lead you through a sweep of the city. Remember, it’s the police we’re after. Do what you have to, but try your best to limit civilian casualties.”

“But sir, Shepherd confirmed that we had full, unrestricted reign of the city?”

Silence coated the atmosphere in a blanket of suffocating static, pulling Graves’ jaw taut as he gripped the sides of his vest tighter.

He knew this isn’t what you’d have wanted. The scrutinizing judgment of your ill-witted gaze drilling him from the back was enough to say so. You knew Phillip Graves never wanted his life to play out like it did for the past two years. And you knew he tried to play hero, but at the end of the day, both his life and yours had always mattered more than anything else.

“Of course, do as you must.”

And you were just as bad as him, holding what could be potential liberation behind tongue tied thoughts. But instead of speaking up, you nodded your soldiers off, slipping a hand into one of the many pockets on Graves’ vest as you slipped by. A look of deep solemn was sent his way, captivating his gaze even as gunfire began to light up the dim space around you, ending with a gleam of remorse before the sun disappeared.

You watched as he turned his back, typing a set of eight numbers in the device you stole before dropping it into the mud, kicking it deeper, and moving to join him.

Maybe you could do something before all Hell broke loose.

———

ONE WEEK AFTER THE INCIDENT. / A WAREHOUSE SOMEWHERE ALONG THE OUTSKIRTS OF LAS ALMAS.

“Cobra. I trust you’ve been having successes in finding Hassan’s location?”

“Negative, sir. She won’t speak without Alejandro present. With Graves’ report on the prison break, I’m afraid we’ll have to open negotiations back up.”

A noise of disapproval crept it ways through your earpiece, moving you to sit straight whilst watching Shepherd from the edge of your screen.

“Find Hassan, Cobra. I don’t care how. Golden Eagle out.”

You closed the computer with a sigh, standing up to make way for the armory. A suppressed DMR was grabbed and strapped on top of a lightweight vest, followed by a silencer pistol strapped to your thigh. A line of smokes and frags were clicked onto your belt, finishing off by smoothing your hair back and pulling a black balaclava over your face.

Midnight was approaching fast, leaving you with nearly 20 minutes to reach your destination. Emerging outside, you fastened your DMR to a clip on your vest before spinning your keys in place, letting one foot fall to the ground as you swung yourself onto your vehicle. The engine of your motorcycle raged to life as you yanked your keys against the ignition, leaving a mass of dust in your wake as you tapped the gas, setting off for the barren roads ahead.

The time on your watch had just flashed to 11:59 as you eased to a stop, setting your bike to lay against the sand before dropping beside it. Flicking your thermal scope onto your DMR, you set the gun down against the cool grounds below, finger hovering the trigger as you peered at a warehouse nearly 100 meters ahead. Breathing in, you focused your crosshairs on a pair of guards on the perimeter’s outskirts, lowering down on the trigger as one of them moved in position for a collateral.

Your eyes snapped to the side as a third man dropped in the corner of your scope, winding a faint smile upon your face as you rose up from the ground. Small piles of sand kicked up behind your footsteps as you broke into a sprint, watching bodies drop in the near distance with every footstep you took.

There would only be 10 internal guards at this time. 20 on the outside and dropping rapidly made easy work of it, allowing you to slip in through a side gate completely unnoticed.

A stray guard stationed on the main roof caught your attention, leading you to snatch a half cracked beer bottle off the ground before moving forward. Peaking your head above a ladder, you rose your hand when he glanced away, tossing the bottle a few meters in the opposite direction. Following a string of confused murmurs and the turn of his back, you mounted the roof and ran up behind him, spinning him by his shoulders before jamming a knife into his jugular.

Now came the hardest part, eliminating the ones inside. You couldn’t pick them off one by one since the area was so compact, and starting a gunfight could prove risky. The only one safe way you could think of led you to crouch beside one of the roof’s skylights, peering down at a clump of guards that sat directly below you.

A soft click sounded from your belt as you pulled a smoke bomb from it, smashing a small hole in the glass before dropping it in. The rise of agitated coughs led you to flip on the infrared lens on your goggles, dropping down onto a crate before taking your last fall onto the chest of a guard.

Frenzied gunfire rang out as blinded guards screamed in confusion, their rasps soon cut short by a swift sequence of knives jutted to their skin. You made easy work of the first 5 that had been grouped up, but the rest had already been alerted, and were approaching fast.

You dropped another canister of smoke before sliding against one of the numerous crates in the warehouse, peaking out to see a red, thermal mass just a few feet away. His legs were kicked from behind as you spun your knife to his front, spurting a thick trail of blood into the mist at the expense of his esophagus. A chain of horrific screams echoed throughout the space as you moved forward in rapid, deadly progression, grabbing the last man’s head before putting a silenced bullet in the base of his skull.

A click pushed past your tongue as you knelt down, swiping a now bloodied keycard out of the guard’s pocket. However, you could only freeze in shock as the sound of a cocked gun rang out from your front, leading you to stare straight into the barrel once the last of the smoke cleared.

“Don’t move.”

You raised your hands in defeat, allowing the guard to reach forward and snatch the covering off of your face. The moment his eyes widened was the same a sharp object whizzed just meters past your head, allowing him to mutter a single word before slumping to the ground.

“Cobra.”

His body was kicked to the side, allowing you to step out of the pools of blood that coated your boots and turn around. The sight before you drew a thin sigh from your lips, leading you to avert your gaze at the sound of approaching footsteps.

You couldn’t believe he’d actually followed your message.

“Ghost.”

His eyes traveled to your face, taking in the fresh strokes of red that coated your cheek, soon narrowing into a look you couldn’t decipher. However, if there was one thing you could pick up, it was anger.

“These people, they’re..” he blinked roughly, looking back up to you with a newfound glint of confusion resting in the small corner of light that sat there. “Tell me everything, now.”

“I doubt there’s much you really need to know.”

“Wrong choice.” The harsh bark in his tone grazed your ears as he began walking forward, roughly grabbing the hem of your vest to push you into a nearby crate. “Come clean to me. Right. Now.”

“Tell me what they’ve told you.”

A frustrated sigh passed through the lower region of his mask, followed by the slight tilt of his head downward.

“Shadow Company. Almost an entire section of Las Almas slaughtered.” His voice grew with each passing word, sucking in a sharp breath before looking back up at you. “Graves’ closest advisor.”

You could do nothing but nod.

“I had no control over what he did, Ghost. Shepherd has him wrapped around his finger, I-“

“So you just sit and let him kill all of these innocent people?” He growled, pressing you further into the metal. “You could’ve prevented all of this.. but you..”

“Fucking Hell Simon- don’t say it.”

“You’re in love with that bastard, aren’t you?”

His hand tugged violently on your vest, some fingers moving into the collar of your jacket. Following the upward aggression, one of his knees pressed into your thigh, forcing you to cower under him.

“No, you don’t understand.” You snapped, eyes narrowing dangerously. “I saved him back in Al Mazrah. He owes me his life.”

“And what about us, Cobra?” He spat, leaving just a few inches of space between your noses. “You’ve been with the Task Force way longer, and now you suddenly want to act all high and mighty because your team failed?”

“That was NOT our fault.” You snarled, roughly shaking against his grasp. “We had no choice but to follow Shepherd’s orders, you know that!”

“Fine, but the choices you’ve made up until now? Those are on you.”

You grit your teeth firmly together before swiping one of your feet against Ghosts’ leg, taking his stagger to spin him to where you had been moments prior. Kicking a body towards you, your hands forced his head down, the edge of your boot pointing to the Shadow Company’s insignia sewed into left side of one of the guard’s chests.

“I’m killing my men for the Task Force, Simon. I betrayed my squadron, sent you those coordinates, and you still have the nerve to say I’m acting high and mighty? Do you hear yourself?”

Silence.

“I did this all for you, not Graves.”

You.. meaning the Task Force, of course. Not “you” for the man pressesd flush against your chest, hands running along your forearms, stopping to clamp against your wrists in a fluid squeeze.

“But you’re still going to go back to him, aren’t you?”

You sighed through your nose, unlinking one of his hands from your wrist to rest beside his mask. The eyes above you fluttered nearly shut, holding you in a squint that proved he already knew the answer to that question.

“I have no choice.”

Your hand traveled to the side, languidly hooking a finger under his mask, pulling just high enough to expose his mouth and the stubble coating the skin around it. Before you knew it, he dipped his head down to pounce on your lips, teeth knitting against the soft flesh in a sudden course of hunger.

“Let me have you tonight, then, Cobra.”

It was true, you had no choice when it came to your situation. The mere thought of Shepherd catching you with Ghost made your skin crawl.. but right now, you had him, and you weren’t going to take that for granted. A major mistake, maybe, betraying every ill word you’ve spoken to him in frustrated lust.

Yet, you nodded, allowing him to pick you up and set you away from the mass of bodies you had been standing near.

Gloved hands snaked under your arms the moment you touched the ground, moving to unclip your vest and toss it to the ground beside you. His hands continued to roam along the expanse of your jacket, tugging the zipper down in one harsh movement before taking your belt along with it.

“Do you let Graves touch you like this?”

You bit your lip, shamelessly lifting the bottom of his jacket up to access his belt.

“None of your business.”

He shook his head, knowing what that entailed; fingers moving to fiddle with your pants as well.

“Lucky bastard.”

Ghost took no leisure in sliding your panties down once he popped the button holding your jeans open, tugging one of his gloves off with his teeth before tossing it to the side. His index finger plunged to circle around your folds, rousing a deep sigh from his throat at the feeling of your slick coating his fingers.

“Fucking Hell…”

You whimpered as that same finger suddenly pushed inside of you, the sensitivity of the sudden intrusion making you clamp around him. Only a few shallow pumps sufficed for him until he added the second finger, making sure to stretch them open inside of you before moving forward. You bit back a moan as his fingers curled against your sweet spot, the look in your eyes telling him all he needed to know anyway.

His speed picked up with every short thrust inside your walls, eventually rousing a quiet moan from your lips as your head fell back. A soft hum followed the crude noise, only encouraging him to run his other hand along the bundle of nerves above. Your teeth gnawed at your lips at the feeling of rough velcro abusing the outside of your pussy, each sloppy rub of his fingers sending a pleasant shock through your system.

“Fucking Graves.” Ghost mumbled, thrusting his fingers in you particularly hard at the thought of the man. “Wish he was here to watch someone else touch you like- this.”

You bit your hand as his fingers curled on the last word, heating the coil snaking around your midsection tenfold.

“Let me hear you, lovie.” He reached up, prying your hand away from your mouth. “What do you want me to do?”

“Fuck, Simon, keep going.”

You felt yourself growing closer to an orgasm with each approaching second, hands slapping the metal behind you to relieve the heat. Ghost’s thrusts were nothing short of sloppy now, three fingers in at their cruel pace.

“That’s it, come on my fingers. Nice and slow.”

You’d never admit it, but he had such a fucking way with words. So much that one sentence alone had you lathering his fingers in cum, drawing a thin line of slick substance between them as he pulled out of you.

His arms dipped down to encircle your legs, lifting you to sit on the edge of a crate. Now decently higher above, you glanced down, the arousal between your legs growing with no doubt as you watched him sink to his knees. Tugging your jeans down a little further, he hungrily pried your legs apart before glancing up at you, and plummeting his face between your legs.

A sweet moan fell from your lips as the coarse pad of Ghost’s tongue licked up your folds, stopping to swirl around your bud before moving back down to your hole. Just as you were beginning to enjoy the slow pace, he shoved his tongue inside of your pussy, sliding against areas even his fingers didn’t satisfy. One of the hands holding your legs open began toying with your clit once more, eliciting a string of curses from your mouth as you felt your next orgasm start to build.

Though he’d never admit it, Ghost always thought you had a beautiful voice. The way you accentuated some words and let others fall over like rain water enticed him to no end. And now, hearing the sing sing moans and whimpers spilling from you was undoubtedly catching his attention, causing him to glance up from your pussy.

You, on the other hand, had never been shy about complimenting him. You’d always drone on about how nice his accent sounded, how perfectly cocky he was.. Hell, the list never ends. However, if there was something you made sure he was aware of, it was how gorgeous his eyes were. Piercing oak and softly shaped; always adorned with an intimidating smear of black around them.

And with the way they stared up at you now? Your composure was snapped and broken beyond repair.

Seconds later you felt yourself crying out on your second orgasm, leaning back as Ghost hungrily lapped up whatever dripped out of you. He stood up after a good 20 seconds, the upper hand side of his mask noticeably drenched in your juices. He let out a sigh at this, raising a hand to tug what was left of it off.

It had been a long time since you’d seen Ghost without his mask on, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Dirty blonde locks sat plastered against his forehead, longer than what you remembered. However, the moment was short lived, as his eyes were soon to harden back to the way they had looked when you first encountered.

“What’s your plan after this?”

“To steal any information from here, and get Hassan’s location from the girl.”

“You know she wont talk.” He pressed, leaning closer to your face. “What then?”

Oh.

Your mouth contorted into a sickeningly fake smile as you ran a hand along his face, stopping to caress lightly over his cheek.

“You want me to beg for your help, don’t you?”

He only grew closer at this, warm breaths fanning over your mouth in drawn out waves.

“No, I just want you to make the right decision.”

You scoffed, thumb slowly coming down to run over his lip.

“Aren’t I doing that right now?”

A hum answered your inquiry as he pressed his lips against yours, tongue greedily sliding around the inside to get every taste of you. Muffled moans mingled between the both of you, leading Ghost to press his thighs against your own. One of his hands slipped down to finish unzipping what you hadn’t, the other running along your chest, reaching under your bra to cup and squeeze your breasts one at a time.

You eventually broke apart from his lips because of the ache, glancing down to see him smearing his precum along his dick. Your legs vibrated at each push of his hands against your skin, gently clamping down on your flesh before breaking one hand away to drag his cock against your already weeping pussy.

“Think you can take all of me, sweetheart?”

You nodded feverishly, already growing hot at the pure cockiness present in his tone. What was a small match erupted into a flame as he pushed into you, trailing embers down your walls with each inch he moved. You’d never felt so full in your life, groaning shamelessly as he bottomed out, moving back after a few seconds to adjust you to his length.

“Simon, please.. fuck.” You exhaled roughly, head tilting back to alleviate some of the pressure. “Faster, please.”

A screech caught itself in your throat as he began to thrust inside of you, hands moving up to cage around your back, pulling you flush against his chest. This allowed his cock to burrow even deeper than before, the pleasure rousing incoherent phrases from your lips. Ghost eagerly tilted his head up at this, messily taking your lips in his and greedily swallowing all of the sounds from your throat.

Your hands dug into the sheer fabric of his coat, legs feebly wrapping around his waist in an attempt to stay grounded. You mumbled something along the lines of “.. please.. faster” against his lips, rousing a drawn out groan from his throat at the sound. The slaps of his cock against your pussy grew louder as he increased his speed, filling your ear with a mixture of lewd pants and moans.

“He’ll never fuck you like this, Cobra. Never.”

Ghost choked on the last part of his sentence, letting out an almost animalistic moan at the rate his cock was slamming inside of you. Each thrust grew sloppier, filling him with the carnal need to suck the breath out of your lungs, moving to nip at your neck after you gasped for air. His teeth picked at your skin skillfully, drawing out just enough force to have you sobbing his name, desperately clawing at his back for any leverage.

“My god- Simon!” You cried, raising a hand to grasp his hair. “M’ gonna.. cum.”

“.. shit…”

To be completely truthful, you hadn’t experienced anything like this with Graves in your life. The sweltering blister of heat in your midsection ignited further with every thrust, a release itching to come out as your overstimulated walls clenched around him for the third time. Blistering tears streaked down your cheeks as your orgasm came crashing around Ghost’s cock, drawing a beautiful moan from his lips as he chased his own high.

He abruptly pulled out, mixing streaks of white with the arousal already pooling in between your legs. Panting lightly, Ghost helped you down onto the ground after you zipped your clothes back on, never letting go of your shoulders as you regained composure in your legs.

“You know can’t do this without us.” He spoke, voice just above a whisper. “Come back to base with us, we’ll roll out an operation tomorrow.”

You slowly shook your head at him, hands turning his inside out mask before taking his ungloved hand and placing it inside.

“You know I can’t do that.” You sighed, running a hand along his forearm. “Someone needs to be inside, and I need to make sure Graves gets out safe if you’re really planning on doing what you said.”

“No.” His tone lowered as if you’d flipped a switch in his head, firmly taking hold of your wrists, eyes narrowing dangerously at you. “It’s either us or him. You have to choose.”

It’s either me or him. You have to choose.

You inhaled sharply, digging a device holding your frequency inside out of your vest.

“You know I’d always choose you.”

Your hands clasped around his own as you placed the device in his care.

“Just… try not to kill him. He’s looked out for me more than you know.”

Heaving a small sigh, Ghost pocketed your device before leaning down, lips hovering just inches from yours.

“No promises, Cobra.”

[brights-place]

Clay x sassy fem! Reader Nsfw and sfw headcannons?

When I say sassy I mean she’s bold, straight forward, annoyed easily and other stuff. She’s strong headed and doesn’t take no for a answer type of sassy, and maybe bratty during sex too👀…

Clay with an sassy S/O

Pairings: Clay X Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Smut and NSFW content MDNI! A/N: These are for those freaky people and clay simps I'm talking about me aswell yall... I love clay so much AHEM! Anyways I'm not gonna be on tumblr for alot cause yk Im prepping for some stuff for the next couple of weeks!

SFW

- You being sassy is so entertaining for him

- You being straight forward and bland makes him snicker especially when Viva tries to do something dumb with the two of you when hanging out You'd be most of the time voice of reason and clay also being an voice of reason for an slight amount before giving in so you are one who has to take control

- Loves how you can be bratty and rude towards people but can melt in his hands easily if he praises you for the smallest things

- When you get annoyed he soothes you easily by placing an hand on your arm or shoulder

- You two would be an power duo for work situations and just for your personal life - he tangles your and his hair and tail together as he tries to hold you back from going to insult or punch someone cause they talked smack about Clay and Viva (I headcannon they have tails, claws, fangs and paws cause its so cute)

- He loves when seeing you stand up for other trolls when needed and was so determined to make all putt putt trolls safe!

-he pretends that he hates when you act out and get pissed but secretly he loves when you're a brat and enjoys the sight

- He loves how bold and straight forward yet sassy you are but you are so different in bed (NEHEHHEHEHEHE *gremlin noises*)

NSFW

- OHOHOHOHO I'M SO EXCITED FOR THIS

- He could be rough some days and soft on others it depends how you act but since your sassy and bratty he snickers. - When he was trying to work once you kept touching him groaning and whining about wanting him - When he said no to not letting in cause he was busy with work you literally left for an moment before appearing under his desk smirking up at him

- Clay wouldn’t admit it but when your bratty he enjoys it so much cause he can make you submit to him later on after he fucks the brains out of you

- When your being bratty and whine he likes to put you in your place

- biting hard and leaving hickeys as he grips onto your waist and thighs a bunch of times, whispering praises and degrading words against your ear

- Loves how he makes you whine after you kept trying to fight back for dominance but failing and you end up hiccuping in pleasure

- Overstimulates you so much

- Teases you he would just slowly thrust in and out of you or tease the tip of your member as you beg for him for more and cling to him sobbing

- When you continue being sassy he enjoys it so much and likes to place you in different positions while tugging your hair back

- decided to Mirror fuck you to show how he makes you feel this good and that you should obey him more while your drooling and he leaves marks on your skin

- He loves having control when you are doing it so he likes stopping his movements on purpose just to hear you whine and beg for him to go back to railing you

- He can be very cold, teasing you just to rile you up to see if you don't follow the rules and try be more straight forward and bratty.

- Uses overstimulation as punishment will force orgasm after orgasm until you are crying, begging for him to stop obviously you still wanna continue it though.

- Loved how he made you switch up so fast from being an bratty sassy troll to an drooling submissive person with how easily he man handles you

- Amazing at aftercare and make sure you feel special

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2024 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact!

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ SPIDER-MAN ≠ CAT-MAN.

fandom. marvel

pairings. miguel o'hara x civilain gn!reader

content warnings. sfw, sleeping/napping/cuddling with miguel, miguel purrs because he's literally half spider, not edited/proofread

word count. 0.6k

notes. so, i've read a spider-man fic some time ago, where it was mentioned that peter could purr. and then i googled and would you look at that, some spiders can actually purr. this is the end result of my research

[Male wolf spiders vibrate dead leaves to create purring noises and court females. The right kind of “purr” makes a female wolf spider go weak at the joints… Biologists have known for awhile that wolf spiders can make songs that humans can hear… However, wolf spiders don’t have ears themselves— at least in the traditional sense.] Helen Thompson, Smithsonian Magazine

The first time it happens, you’re half asleep. Snuggled close to Miguel, his arms wrapped around your body and completely engulfed by his calming presence, it doesn’t take long until your eyes slowly close. You don’t fight against it, sleeping with him, close and in your bed, helps you to calm your nerves and get a good night of sleep. 

Miguel has long fallen silent, his grumbles about his work no longer heard, now he’s just watching how you slowly but surely fall asleep, hidden beneath your covers and curled up against him. All the tension falls off his shoulders, seeing you so calm and safe in his arms, his tight muscles loosening, until he’s completely relaxed. It’s then, in this moment of peace, where his chest starts to rumble, it’s then, minutes after your eyes have fallen shut, when he starts to purr. He doesn’t stop it, only presses you closer, fully knowing what it means. 

And you? You must be dreaming, probably about a big, fluffy cat, why else would Miguel purr? It’s a really nice dream, you only press your face closer to the calming vibrations and let yourself drift off. 

You don’t see Miguel’s soft smile, you don’t feel what he feels— the happiness spreading in his body, the amount of love he holds for you about to burst. He knows, oh he knows, you’re the one, his true love, never has he ever purred in another person’s presence. And so he cradles your body against his, promising himself that he will keep you safe and love until he dies. 

The second time it happens, well, the first time you actually realize what’s happening, you’re cuddling with Miguel again. He runs warm, almost feverish, so in your eyes, Miguel is the perfect personal heater. You tease him about it, of course you do, and he flashes his fangs at you— and yet, when you finally lay your head on his chest, right above his heart, when your laughter smoothed over to giggles until you only smile, then… then Miguel cradles your head, murmurs how much he loves you and you melt against him. 

It’s so rare, these gentle moments, both of you’re too busy with your lives, so when he holds you like this— gently, as if you would break any moment, and yet so close, almost bruising, as if you would slip from his arms the moment he lets go. And it’s then, when you listen to his calming heartbeat, it’s then, when you hear and feel it. 

The rumbling chest, noise vibrating against your ear, the sound escaping his parted lips. Purrs. Your eyes widen, your heart skips a beat and you try to hide your giddiness. Anything to not make him stop, stop him from purring. It sends goosebumps down your arms, a slight shudder going through your body— 

Of course he notices how you try to hide it, your new gained knowledge. He just grumbles, the purring coming to an uncomfortable stop and you hold your breath. But then it slowly picks up again, Miguel’s arms around you hugging you closer, while you listen to the soft noises he makes. 

Who knew he had Wolf Spider DNA in him…

taglist. @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @auraxins , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @lupicalbestwolf , @bladiekisser , @verxsyon

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE TAGLIST? please send a non-anon ask to be added to the taglist. taglist can be general taglist (all fandoms and all works), fandom taglist (all works within the fandom), series (all works for specific series) or nsfw taglist (all nsfw works and all fandoms).

ARKHAM MAID 2023

[miasmaghoul]

Kinktober Day 2 - Quintosis Control

Pull Me Under

Thank you to @kroas-adtam for curating these prompts!

Rating: E

Pairing: Aeon/Dew (but also technically Aether/Dew)

Word Count: 2.3k

Contains: quintosis (obviously), oral, fingering, anal, prone bone, phone sex, Dew getting fucked in literally every possible way

-----

Aeon stares at the ghoul knelt between his legs with a raised eyebrow. Dew tilts his head, palming Aeon through his jeans with a placid smile on his face. His expression remains guarded though, and Aeon supposes that makes sense.

After all, this isn’t the most…common of requests. 

“So,” Dew murmurs, fiddling with Aeon’s zipper, “think you can do it?”

Aeon hums while the smaller ghoul drags the closure down, reaching out to twirl a loose lock of ashy blonde hair hanging from Dew’s bun. It’s softer, somehow, when they’re stuck in glamour like this. Only their unearthly eyes give away their true nature, and Dew’s copper ones burn up at him like miniature suns. Warm fingers wriggle into his jeans, pet at his slowly growing chubby, and Aeon spreads his knees just a little wider.

-----

Read the rest below, or on AO3!

Aeon stares at the ghoul knelt between his legs with a raised eyebrow. Dew tilts his head, palming Aeon through his jeans with a placid smile on his face. His expression remains guarded though, and Aeon supposes that makes sense.

After all, this isn’t the most…common of requests. 

“So,” Dew murmurs, fiddling with Aeon’s zipper, “think you can do it?”

Aeon hums while the smaller ghoul drags the closure down, reaching out to fiddle with a loose lock of ashy blonde hair hanging from Dew’s bun. It’s softer, somehow, when they’re stuck in glamour like this. Only their unearthly eyes give away their true nature, and Dew’s copper ones burn up at him like miniature suns. Warm fingers wriggle into his jeans, pet at his slowly growing chubby, and Aeon spreads his knees just a little wider.

“Don’t see why not,” he replies, cheeks dimpling under a playful smile. “If it’s something you really want.” Aeon groans when Dew pulls him from the confines of his pants, sighs when Dew wraps bony fingers around him. 

“It is,” the other ghoul assures him, leaning in to swipe his tongue over Aeon’s tip just enough to make him grunt. “Wanted to ask for a while, actually.”

Dew’s giving him slow strokes now, languid drags of a loose fist. Aeon knows he’s going to be dripping in no time. He pulls the tie in Dew’s hair, tosses it away in favor of threading his hand into those impossibly soft strands. Dew’s eyes droop just right whenever he does this, and Aeon watches a little bit of the apprehension on his handsome face melt away. His other hand fists itself in the comforter of the hotel bed he’d fallen onto for all of ten seconds before Dew had wrestled him to the end of it. 

Not that Aeon’s complaining, mind. Having any part of Dew on his cock is always an occasion worth celebrating.

“Why haven’t you, then?”

Dew shrugs, that one little crease forming between his eyebrows. The one he wears when he’s focused on a solo, or when Cirrus asks him to do mental math. Aeon thumbs over the spot where one of his horns should be, and Dew’s shoulders slump a hair.

“Thought it might be weird.” Well, he’s not wrong about that. “Thought it might, y’know,” the little ghoul makes a vague gesture, focused only on the way his hand glides over Aeon’s cock. “Thought it might be too much.”

If Aeon’s fangs were out, he’d be smiling with every single one.

“Good thing I’m a fan of ‘too much’, ” he croons, giving Dew’s hair a tug. Hard enough to make his hand stutter and his eyes pinch shut. “And I know you are too -”

Aeon leans down, slow and with purpose. Invades the space Dew has made for himself and earns a surprised blink for it. Aeon sighs while he nuzzles their cheeks together, hearing Dew’s breath catch, basking in the warmth of his skin. He presses a kiss to the other ghoul’s ear, and it carries the smallest of sparks.

“- firefly.”

The word drips in magick, and Aeon can tell by the shocked sound Dew makes that he doesn’t hear it entirely in his voice. He can feel his power sink into Dew’s skin, feels the rush of static that flows beneath his scalp and through the callused fingers curled around him. A pulse of something unnaturally cool that has Dew shuddering. Aeon pulls back to find Dew looking suddenly much looser. Shoulders rounded, eyes wrinkled at the corners and glassy, his smile something more than skin-deep. The very specific visage of someone in the beginnings of quintessence-fueled bliss. 

“That feel good? Looks like it does,” Aeon lilts, the hand buried in the blanket coming up to cup the little ghoul’s cheek. “But you’ll need more than that for what you’re asking, y’know.”

Dew makes an affirmative sound, not quite a word but close enough. His hand starts moving again and Aeon feels the muscles in his stomach jump - Dew’s hands always have that effect on him. He takes a deep breath through his nose, scratching at Dew’s scalp while the first wave of his magick settles into the folds of his mind. Aeon groans with the casual way the other ghoul takes his tip between his lips, hot tongue sliding over sensitive flesh. Aeon gives his hair the suggestion of a stern pull, and delights in the way Dew just…takes it. Takes more of him into that silken mouth, enough so the blunt head of Aeon’s cock pokes his hollowed cheek. Makes a lovely bump that Aeon can’t help but run his thumb over.

“Ready for more?” 

He probably shouldn’t be so breathless already, but Dew’s mouth does have that effect on…well, everybody. The little ghoul pulls off with a wet pop, smears the tip over his own lips to leave them wet and shiny. A decidedly slutty move that makes Aeon’s balls ache.

“Yeah, I think you are,” he huffs, cheeks warm. Aeon runs a hand through his own hair with a chuckle. “Wanna call now? Or after I get my fingers in you?”

Dew makes a strangled sound, scrambles for his phone, and as his dick is left to bob freely in the air Aeon has his answer. 

He chuckles softly, stretches his arms over his head while Dew fumbles through his contacts. Rolls his eyes when the other ghoul drops the phone in his eagerness. Aeon stands, busies himself with gathering lube and arranging pillows, but keeps an eye on Dew through it all. He raises the phone to his ear just as Aeon’s shrugging out of his t-shirt. He hears it ring while he shucks his belt, and Aeon pauses with his jeans around his thighs when his sharp ears pick up a click. A deep, familiar voice follows it, Dew presses a flat palm to his crotch, and a thrill runs up Aeon’s spine when the little ghoul says,

“Hey, Aeth. Got a proposition for you.”

Things move quickly after that. Aether had been immediately, enthusiastically on board with Dew’s idea, faster than Aeon had expected. Something that told him the other two had definitely discussed this before. In no time Aeon had Dew over his lap, sitting up against the headboard with the little ghoul drooling into the sheets with each press of Aeon’s fingers. 

Fingers that, at least for Dew, feel like someone else’s entirely.

“Aether,” he slurs, sounding more fucked up that Aeon think he’s ever heard him, “Aeth, please -”

The word blurs into a moan when Aeon crooks his fingers just so, knuckles rubbing against Dew’s prostate. Aeon feels a blurt of pre leak out onto his thigh and heaves a happy sigh when Dew clamps down around him. He keeps quiet as he can, though. He isn’t the one Dewdrop needs to hear right now.

“That feel good, baby?” Aether’s smooth voice rings tinny through the phone’s speaker, but only to Aeon. For Dew, he’s sure the words flow directly into his veins. “You love my fingers, don’t you?”

Aeon twists his digits the exact way he knows Aether would - one benefit of his unparalleled sense memory - and fills the little ghoul’s mind with the burn of a much more intense stretch. One that has Dew crying out, fingers curling into rumpled sheets and his little hole clenching hard. Aeon only has two fingers inside, but with the way Dew’s writhing you’d think he was taking all five.

Ah, the power of suggestion.

“So good,” Dew mumbles, strands of hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He’s flushed crimson straight down his throat; Aeon can’t believe how fucked out he looks already, but he imagines the magick isn’t exactly helping in that regard. “‘S so much, Aeth, so big -”

“I know, firefly,” Aether trills, gentle, “but you take them so well for me. In fact, I think you deserve another one.”

Aeon takes the hint, pulling back to the first knuckle and running a third fingertip over Dew’s taut rim. The little ghoul makes the most wonderful gagging sound, one that’s only amplified when Aeon slides back inside with three elegant fingers. Dew howls once they’re fully in, fists white-knuckled in the bedsheets. Aeon’s other hand rubs soothing circles into his lower back, just like Aether would, and Aeon makes sure that hand feels heavier too.

It’s a delicate process, manipulating Dew’s mind and body at once. Sending tendrils of quintessence into the recesses of his mind and pulling on wispy threads of memory. The specific timbre of Aether’s voice, the weight of his touch, the warmth of his breath, the scent of his sweat. Immersing the little ghoul into a haze that erases Aeon’s presence entirely. It may be his touch Dew’s feeling, but right now his whole world is Aether and if Dew keeps making these noises then Aeon certainly won’t complain. His own pleasure will be playing second fiddle tonight anyway.

Aeon taps at his prostate and Dew’s leg spasms.

“Aeth - Aether please ,” Dew whimpers, gasping between the words. “'S been so long. Need… need you, please -”

Aeon doesn’t think he’s ever heard Dewdrop sound so desperate. It’s beautiful .

“You’ve got me, sweet boy,” Aether assures. “Can’t you feel me?”

Aeon swirls his fingers, slides his palm up the length of Dew’s spine, and the little ghoul goes boneless in his lap with a noise that speaks to how far gone he is. Aeon’s drunk on the feel of him, the sound, the sight of his lovely face scrunched up in agonizing pleasure. His own erection has long since flagged, but the pressure low in his belly hasn’t dissipated in the slightest. 

“Need…more,” Dew pants, pawing at the bed and mindlessly grinding his hot little stiffy into Aeon’s thigh. “Need…Aeth, fuck me. ”

Dew pleads it like his life is ending and Aeon’s head thuds against the headboard with the effort of remaining silent. Aether must hear the thunk , judging by the amusement coloring his next words.

“Of course, droplet,” he hums, and if he listens close Aeon can just make out the slippery sound of Aether tugging at himself. “Whatever you want.”

Aeon moves the slight body in his lap with mild difficulty - he’s not all that much bigger than Dew when they’re glamoured like this, and the little ghoul is entirely too gangly for his own good. Aether orchestrates his movements, tells Dew he’s going to take him on his belly, the way they do when he really needs to feel Aether. Gets Dew face down with a pillow snuggled under his narrow hips, legs spread just enough for Aeon to admire his pretty pink hole while he gets a hand on himself. He’s hard as diamond again in seconds, impossible not to be with Dew like this.

“Are you ready for me, firefly?” 

The little ghoul gurgles out an uh huh at Aether’s words, and Aeon takes that as his cue to get in position. His heart hammers away while he does, fingers jittery as he straddles Dew’s thighs. Plants his hands on either side of his chest. Leans down to kiss the place between Dew’s shoulder blades. Aeon reaches back to line himself up, prods at Dew’s puffy entrance with his own wet tip, and the way it slips over that wrinkled skin makes Aeon’s eyes roll back.

“I’m gonna put it in now, alright?”

“Yes,” Dew sobs on an exhale, sweat prickling up along the length of his spine. “Fuck, yes .”

Aeon holds his breath, every inch of him thrumming, and then he’s sinking in with a slowness he’s never employed. But it’s necessary with the way he floods Dew’s magick-addled mind with the glorious stretch Aether’s fat cock instead. He can hear Aether talking somewhere distant, but the only thing Aeon can focus on are the stunning cries pouring from Dew’s lips. Aeon has to work to keep his own shut, nails biting into his palms with every rock of his hips.

“Deep breaths, love,” Aether rumbles through the din of pleasure, his tone making even Aeon’s stomach twist. “I know you can take it.” 

Dew wails, and Aeon can’t hold in the groan that bubbles up when he finally bottoms out. Dew’s walls are like searing hot velvet around him, so slick that Aeon can feel it leaking out around his cock. The little ghoul flutters ceaselessly around him, and it’s nothing short of maddening.

“There we go, well done.” Aether coos down the line, soothing. Calming. Aeon brings a shaky hand to Dew’s head, strokes his hair. Plays out the intent so plainly coloring Aether’s words. “Are you ready for the rest of me, baby?”

Dew nods frantically against the sheets, and Aeon focuses. Lowers his own wiry frame down onto the little ghoul’s sweaty back while Aether reminds him again to breathe. Dew needs it - every bit of himself that Aeon settles against Dew’s body seems to knock the air from him in punched-out huffs. Aeon shouldn’t be so surprised, not when he knows that Dew’s feeling a much, much heavier weight.

“Oh, Dew,” Aether sighs, the sound of his strokes much more obvious now, “ you feel fucking amazing.” 

Aeon’s inclined to agree, relaxing his full weight onto the little ghoul below and giving the sublest roll of his hips. Just enough to make Dew yelp. He buries his nose in silky hair and breathes deep, warm spice and tobacco, hands traveling up his sides. Grazing Dew’s straining ribs, caressing his shoulders, mapping soft skin. The hair on Dew’s arms tickles his palms, the veins on the back of his hands so pronounced beneath his fingertips.

“Aeth,” Dew whimpers, patting at the bed, blindly searching. “Aeth, where -”

Aeon laces his fingers with Dew’s then, and the little ghoul wastes no time in holding his hand right back.   

“I’ve got you, baby boy,” Aether promises, husky with lust Aeon swears he can feel through the phone. “Daddy’s gonna take such good care of you.”

His cock throbs, Dew moans so loud it rattles his chest, and Aeon makes a mental note to ask Aether about that little exchange later.

Much later.

[selfishdoll]

❛favorite groupie...❜ ━━ ft. vamp! sukuna

SUMMARY ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

the last thing you wanted to do was go to a vampire bar just because your best friend’s favorite fanged band was playing. but you did.. and met a certain pink haired drummer whose way too cocky for his own good. luckily, you just love matching energy.

CONTENT WARNING ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

vampires so mentions of blood, bloodsucking, period blood, etc. | self-indulgent asf (reader wears glasses) | semi-public sex | sukuna is a drummer & vampire | ooc sukuna | mean dom! sukuna | praise & degradation | use of the word “groupie” to mock at first but later used as a term of endearment(?) | “pet names” (pretty, doll, minx, sweetheart, etc) | strangers to lovers(? there may be a part two to this) | rough sex | manhandling | throat fucking | sukuna comes on reader’s glasses | pussy drunk sukuna & cock drunk reader | tipsy sex (buzzed really) | sukuna & reader match energy fr. try to see who folds first | denied orgasms | spanking | fingering | etc. if i forgot something tell me please.

NOTE ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

this story is heavily inspired by the old show “true blood” that i am currently obsessed with. that’s where i get the idea of a vampire bar & the term “fang-banger.” you will see several vamp fics because they’re literally my favorite supernatural creature. also, sukuna is gonna be ooc cause i’m sensitive & can’t make characters too mean 😞. also this got longer then i wanted it to so it’s like 5k+ words. as always please excuse any typos & grammar mistakes.

Arabian Night burned upon the decorated holder rested on your vanity, the subtle notes of hyacinth and carnation tainting the atmosphere— warming the area around you. Your dark eyes were glued to the mirror, staring back at yourself delicately gliding the tube of mascara along your lashes, careful to assure no product got into your eye.

“I can’t believe you’re really making me go to a vampire bar.” The words left your glossed and lined lips in a hiss, eyes rolling the moment you heard your friend attempt to defend herself on facetime. To be frank you didn’t hate vampires. There weren’t many differences between them and humans. They were both beings that simply fed on other things to survive.

A hamburger to a human was no different then blood to a vampire.

But, you still did your best to avoid them. Which was easy since they were limited on when they come out and most establishments didn’t allow them in. Your friend knew this, knew your justifiable fear of being some vampire’s next meal— yet urged and lowkey manipulated you to going to a vampire bar.

“They’re only here for a week! We’re the first place they’re touring— we have to go!”

Through many days of urging, guilt trips, and puppy eyes you caved; declaring it would be cool to see a vampire’s world or even interact with them. You were still scared but the fear was sure to melt, right?

You rose from the plush pink chair, stepping back into the view of the full body mirror pressed against your wall. Placing your glasses back on, you looked over your form, searching for any imperfections. The outfit was simple; a red cropped edhardy jacket, your lacey white bra poking out from underneath. You wore dark blue jeans with a red belt, white thong straps resting high on your hips. You pursed your lips a bit, gliding your fingers through the honey brown lace you wore, watching the curls bounce perfectly. With another glance over and a push of your glasses you were satisfied, sliding your sock covered feet into some white sneakers— grabbing your other necessary belongings shortly after.

You exited your home locking up behind yourself and heading towards your car. You would have driven with your friend but there was a chance she would end up under the arm of some hot vampire.

“Fang-banger..” Was the simple word that escaped your glossed lips, grinning just a tad as you turned the engine over. She would be pissed to hear you call her that.

After about fifty minutes of driving you arrived to the bar, the entrance surrounded by people. You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling the anxiety rose. Sure humans were welcome and you’ve heard relatively good things about this particular establishment.. but there were still vampires.

A being that could end you in a single bite.

The thought alone caused you to shiver, shutting your car off and squeezing the steering wheel. You gave yourself a few moments before pulling your hands away, releasing a deep breath and opening your car door. Exiting it, you closed and locked the vehicle; turning in time to see a bubbly woman rushing towards you.

You instinctively opened your arms, eyes rolling as she practically tossed herself into them. You grumbled as kisses were pressed to your cheek, your best friend thanking you over and over again for coming.

“Yeah, yeah— whatever.” You mused, ignoring her hands groping your ass. Your hands lowered to her shoulders, pushing back a bit. “The band is gonna start soon, right? Come on.”

“Oh, right!” She grinned, pulling away whilst locking her hand around your wrist. You were then tugged towards the bar entrance, your free hand gripping your sleeve nervously. Your eyes peered up at the woman beside the door, her red colored lips pulling into a tiny grin at the sight of you and your friend.

A very toothy grin.

“IDs?” She questioned in a velvety tone, eyes focused on you for a split moment— as if sensing your nervousness. You breathed, reaching into the handbag you carried and grabbing your wallet. There you grabbed your identification, passing it to her while your friend did the same.

The woman glanced over the cards for a moment before nodding, passing them back to you two. “You’re all set, have fun girls.” She winked, stepping to the side to let you both inside.

Your friend giggled excitedly as you entered the bar, your eyes dancing around the area. It was a normal bar really; regular tables, a medium sized stage, and a dance floor. People of many different ethnicities — and species — danced and conversed, enjoying drinks and each other. Seeing a vampire feeding in real life was completely abnormal to the point you couldn’t look away.

“Don’t stare so much, it’s rude.” Your best friend whispered, stealing your attention from the scene. You went to apologize, her only smiling and shaking her head. “Here, let’s get some drinks.” She led you over to the bar, the two of you sitting down as she gained the bartender’s attention. She ordered two simple shots, the man nodding and getting right to them.

“I just.. never expected something like this.” You murmured, eyes dancing about. You did your best on not focusing too hard on a vampire sinking their teeth into someone’s neck or a couple basically humping on the dance floor; instead finding interest in the gothic decor and paintings that depicted the bloodsuckers. You turned back to your friend after the once over, giving a nervous smile. “I expected something bad, I guess.”

Your friend shrugged, flashing a gentle smile— thanking the bartender once your drinks were placed down. “A lot of people do. They hear vamp bar and think the worst.” She spoke softly, grasping her shot glass, watching you grab your own. “Even though I forced you.. I’m really happy you came.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, clinking your glass against hers. “Whatever slut.” You downed your drink, listening to the small snort that escaped your friend before she downed her own.

During this the lights on the stage flicked on, members of the bar shouting in excitement. Your friend did the same, turning in her seat at the bar with the widest grin. “They’re here!”

You could only smile at her excitement for her favorite vampire band known as Malevolence. You forced yourself to listen to their most recent music to appease your friend and while you didn’t hate the songs, it just wasn’t something you could get into.

Sigh.. the things you did for friendship.

You rested against your palm, watching as four individuals trudging on stage. Your eyes traced their forms, not overly impressed until you moved onto the last member. The drummer. He was.. better looking then the other three. Tall with pink hair and a black undercut. He wasn’t slim but wasn’t large either, right in the middle. Along with his physique were tattoos along his arms, the rest of his body covered in a black muscle shirt, baggy pants for bottoms.

“Who’s the drummer?” You questioned, eyes glancing at the bartender and requesting another shot. Your friend blinked as she turned, flashing a smile.

“His name’s Sukuna!” Her smile morphed a bit, a little coy now. “He’s not well liked by the media. He’s a little mean.”

You believed her, given how he scowled at a few fans that shouted his name. Even snapping at his bandmates for something briefly. Any interest you had melted away in that instant.

You straightened as they finished setting up the stage, the guitarist stringing his instrument a few times. You smiled at the bartender as he passed your shot, thanking him and taking a swig.

Soon enough, Malevolence started its first song of the night— the bar singing along to the rough voice of the band. You had to admit, it was nice to hear live and see humans bond over their shared love for the music.

You didn’t totally regret coming here.

The band played for about an hour and a half, fans close to the stage attempting to touch and or be touched by the fanged members. It was all entertaining to see, you and your friend taking several videos for your social media.

They closed out their show around ten o’clock, thanking the audience. You cheered along with the others, grinning and turning to your friend. “That was a lot of fun. They sound so good.”

“I know right!” She giggled, completely geeking out about the band. You listened to her ramble intently, the buzz of the alcohol lighting your senses. During her words, however, she suddenly placed a hand onto her stomach. “I’m sorry, I’ll be right back!”

“Take your time.” You waved the girl off as she rushed over to the bathroom, body turning to face the bar. You unlocked your phone, scrolling through your social media for a moment, simply waiting.

That was until you heard the chair two seats down be moved, followed by an annoyed voice.

“Piss off already. I’m not interested.”

It was no surprise your nosy self turned to spot the one and only Sukuna sitting at the bar, waving off a few girls that surrounded and attempted to touch him. The dejected expressions that clung to their featured nearly saddened you, if amusement didn’t interrupt the emotion.

You took a long stare at the man, watching as he instructed the bartender to pour him a glass of some liquid in a tall dark bottle; not even thanking him once he was served. You hadn’t realized your eyes were still on him until the man turned in his chair, facing you.

“You need something? I already said I’m not interested.”

You blinked a bit, snapping out of your trance whilst placing your arm against the bar. You sucked your teeth, turning. “Do I look like a fang banger to you?” You questioned, tone a little rude. From the corner of your eye you spotted the man taking a sip from the glass, tongue gliding across his bottom lip.

“No.” Sukuna started softly, fingers tapping against the short glass. “More like some needy groupie.” His tone was mocking, watching in amusement as you turned to face him with a subtle snarl.

It took a moment for you to reply, raising your shot glass and downing the rest of the alcohol. The burning sensation covered your body, melting your usual filter away. “Even if I was a groupie, I would try to fuck the singer— even the guitarist.” You murmured, knowing his inhuman ears would pick up each word. “Not some vamp that beats on the drums.”

His eyebrows rose, releasing a breathy chuckle as he took another gulp from his glass. You watched carefully, breathing the moment you noticed the hint of red staining his fangs. How his tongue glided to collect the residue, clearly enjoying the liquid you now realized was blood. Sukuna’s eyes landed on you once again, the glass clinking against the bar the moment he placed it down.

“You got a lot of mouth.. defending yourself pretty hard too.”

“And you’re implying?”

Sukuna gave a crooked grin, tapping the counter to which the bartender stepped over to fill his glass back up. “You’re just trynna convince yourself you don’t want me. Scared of being a fang banger?” The vampire’s tone was mocking again, enjoying the way you glared and snarled.

“Please.” You hissed softly, shifting in your seat, ignoring the warmth flooding through your body. “Ain’t shit to be scared of. Vampires are no different from a human man.”

To your surprise the man began to laugh, hunched over the bar with his forehead nearly pressing against the brown wood. You felt your cheeks flush with warmth the moment eyes turned to your spot at the bar, sinking into yourself.

“Sweetheart—“ He begun, laughter ceasing into nothing more than a snort. “I assure you I’m different than any other human man that you’ve been with.”

“Why, because you’re cold with no beating heart?”

“No, cause I’ll fuck the attitude out of you permanently.” Sukuna responded far too quickly, watching you gape like a fish for a moment, finally deciding to keep your mouth shut and turning to face the bar. He smirked at this, leaning on his elbow and tilting his head. “Cat got your tongue?”

You closed your eyes, breathing softly. You weren’t a fang-banger, you tried to convince yourself; attempting to ignore how much you were closing your legs together— avoiding his eyes that just highlighted he knew what you were abstaining from.

But as a moment of silence passed you felt that restraint dwindle. Whether the alcohol, Sukuna, or just you being fucking reckless— any logical part of your brain was rendered useless.

So, while pushing your glasses up you turned to face his awaiting gaze. “Prove it.” You dared softly, tilting your head at him.

Sukuna’s mouth quirked, tongue running along his bottom lip as he turned to the bartender. “Put it on my tab. Hers too.” He spoke, rising from his barstool. His hands found his pockets, motioning for you to follow with a tilt of his head. Rather quickly — embarrassingly so — you grabbed your things, following close behind him.

“My name is (Y/N), not her.”

“Think I like sweetheart better.” Sukuna spoke, leading you towards a door stationed beside the stage. You shouldered your bag as the two of you entered backstage, coming to a hallway. Three doors rested on the walls, you following the vampire who lead you to the one at the end of the hall.

He turned the knob, pushing open the door to reveal a simple room. A black vanity, a red sofa, with a black coffee table in the middle. Sukuna closed the door behind you, watching you for a moment as you bent to place your phone and purse down.

You turned, breathing softly the moment he stepped close to you. Your eyes traveled from his chest up to his face, licking your lips nervously. The man tilted his head with a little smirk.

“You were so damn cocky at the bar.. thinking of backing out?”

The nerves seemed to melt in that moment, stepping a bit closer, rising up to allow your lips to brush. “Sukuna.. are you gonna fuck the attitude out of me, or are you gonna keep talking?” Your eyes flicked between his lips and his dark eyes, gasping the moment you felt a cool hand rising to the back of your neck.

Wordlessly he leaned down, planting his lips against your own. His kiss was rough, stealing your breath away all while his tongue bullied it’s way past your pretty glossed lips. The wet, long muscle curled and slid against your own, licking into your mouth and claiming it as his own. The messy sounds of your lips surrounded the room, your soft moans following.

Sukuna’s hand moved to rest on your throat, thumb pressing against it just to feel you gulp. You pulled away for air, hissing the moment his fangs dragged across your bottom lip, nicking the sensitive skin. He chased your lips for another kiss, licking away the little droplet of blood whilst moving you backwards.

Your hands rose to grip his body, feeling your back press against a wall. You gasped in his mouth as you felt his hand slide down your body, catching the zipper of your cropped jacket and pulling it down your body. The cool air brushed your cleavage, moaning softly the moment his fingers found your hardened nipple under the thin fabric of your bra.

You pulled back, head resting against the wall; whining the moment he pinched your covered bud. “Sukuna, quit fucking teasing.” You hissed, chest rising into his hand for more. The vampire grinned down at you, removing his hand from your breast to instead trail down your body, flicking the belt you wore; buttons of your jeans following.

Now with enough space his hand was entering your pants, two fingers pressing against your wet, covered slit. “Already a fucking mess and I barely touched you.” The drummer commented, face pressing against your collarbone, dragging his fangs across your warm skin. You whined as his fingers found your clit through the fabric of your panties, legs widening and hips rising for more friction. Sukuna chuckled at this, fingertips pressing against the swollen bud, rubbing harsh circles upon it. “Opening your legs for a vampire like this— oh, what a minx you are.”

“Piss off.” You mustered, attempting to keep your resolve in tact. You cried out however, the moment he pinched your clit, the light pleasure and pain melding together.

“Still mouthing off huh?” Sukuna spoke, pulling away from your neck, hand rising to grab your cheeks. His thumb pressed against your lips for a moment before pushing into your mouth, pressing against your tongue all while his fingers entered your panties. The man didn’t tease this time, covering the digits in your slick before sliding them into your damp entrance. He wasted no time in curling the digits inside you, pressing against your gummy walls and growing closer to allow his palm to grind against your clit. A toothy grin was sent your way the moment he felt and heard your muffled moans, fingers scissoring inside your messy pussy, the wet squelches entering the room.

The muffled gasp of his name escaped you the moment he added a third finger, thrusting the digits quickly; stirring you up inside. Your hand fell to his wrist, pretty acrylics digging into his limb, clawing up tattooed skin. Your legs shook as the moments of pleasure continued, eyes pinched close as you felt your orgasm approaching.

Your toes curled, stomach tightening as you grew closer and closer; pussy spasming around his fingers so intensely, he actually added effort to his thrusts.

“Su—sukuna, fuck—!” You whined against his thumb, drool trickling down the corner of your mouth, gagging the moment he pushed the digit farther into your throat. You were so close, squeezing him so harshly that it hurt.

And yet, you weren’t pushed over the edge. Because just when you felt like you would break, the man stopped; withdrawing his fingers before you could even think of finishing yourself off.

Your eyes flew open, glaring at the shit-eating grin plastered across his face. The moment he pulled his thumb from your mouth you were hissing;

“What’s your problem? I was so cl—“

“Did you think you could mouth off like that and I’d would reward you with an orgasm?” Sukuna questioned, head tilted, eyes sweeping your form. The man’s hand rose, fingers pressing into your cheeks and pushing; watching your messy lips pucker. “Fucking needy, looking at you whining just for my fingers.” Sukuna released your cheeks to instead grasp your waist, moving you over to sit on the couch.

The moment your ass met the cushion you felt the heat rise around you, watching in excitement at his hands tugging on the waistband of his pants. Thumbs hooking on the elastic, the vampire pushed them down, black boxers following. His dick escaped the confinements easily, resting tall and thick, beads of precum resting deliciously on the tip.

You bit your lip a little, breathing the moment you felt his strong hand grab the back of your head. “Gonna use that pretty mouth of yours for something useful, yeah?” Sukuna grinned, watching how easily your lips parted, tongue sticking out. His other hand grabbed his shaft, inching closer just to side his tip across your wet tongue. The moment you tried to wrap your lips around his dick, he was pulling you back by the hair— ignoring the whine that you released.

“Impatient brat.” He murmured, instructing you to lay your tongue out. You obeyed, groaning the moment he tapped his dick against the muscle, shallowing fucking your open mouth with just the tip. After a few moments of the teasing, Sukuna was flicking his hips forward; enjoying the way tears sprung to your eyes, hands rising to press against his hips. With no care for your well-being, the vampire began to thrust in your wet cavern, your soft hair spilling through the gaps of his fingers as he gripped it.

Your tongue dragged across his shaft with each thrust into your mouth, eyes closed as you breathed heavily through your nose. The sound of your saliva, gagging, and wet thrusts carried in the room; your hand falling between your legs to rub your clit, moaning around his cock. Your jaw began to ache from the relentless thrusts, the combined mess surely tainting the bottom half of your face— concerns that you could care less about.

Sukuna watched you carefully, gripping your hair, enjoying the way your cheeks would puff with each thrust. The moment he noticed your hand however, he was shoving his cock deeper, leaning to snatch your wrist. You went to whine, the noise coming out as nothing more then a wet, jumbled mess. He grinned above you, continuing to fuck your throat; “Gonna cry about it? Go ahead.” Sukuna snickered, gritting his teeth the moment he felt his orgasm getting close.

His head tilted back, breathing as pink strands rested against his forehead. Sukuna’s hips never stopped, heavy balls slapping against your chin as his grip on your hair began to ache. “Fuck.. such a good fucking groupie, letting me use your mouth like this.” Sukuna teased, feeling the vibration of your moans around his length. He looked back down, pacing increasing, strings of groans and swears escaping him.

The vampire pumped inside your wet mouth a few more times before he was pulling out, making a mess on your face. His come covered your lips, cheeks, and glasses; you quickly sucking up air greedily, tongue gliding across your lips to lick away his mess.

You breathed as his hand found your chin, raising your face to get a good look at you. Sukuna was truly satisfied with his work, grinning down at you. His thumb wiped some of the milky liquid left on your cheek, moving over to your mouth and watching you lick and suck his digit clean. “Mm.. that’s a good girl.” He praised, withdrawing his thumb and pulling your glasses off shortly after.

His hand slid to your throat the moment he pressed your lips together, rising you up a bit while you held onto his wrist. Sukuna’s tongue invaded your mouth once again, making it an even bigger mess. Soon he pulled away, staring down at you.

“Haven’t even fucked you yet and that attitude is no where to be seen. Maybe I shouldn’t..“ Sukuna was pulling away before you could even respond, reaching as if going to pull his pants up. “— looks like I already proved myself, right?” You quickly shook your head, reaching over to grab his wrists. The vampire laughed at this, coming closer to trap your form between him and the couch. “C’mon use your words, sweetheart. What exactly do you want?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, staring into his eyes. You were sure if you didn’t say anything in the next few seconds he would turn and exit the room, leaving you high and dry. You swallowed your pride, rising up higher to rest your hands onto his chest. “You. I need you so bad, Sukuna— please.” You gasped out, crumpling his shirt into your hands.

Sukuna listened to your pleas greedily, a permanent grin painted across his face. Just when you thought it didn’t work he was grabbing your shoulder, turning and pushing you to lay across the couch. Your heart beat fast against your chest, feeling the cushion dip as kneeled behind you. In one swift motion he was pulling your jeans and panties all the way down, revealing yourself to him.

The moment you tried to close your legs, his palm slammed against your ass; causing a cry to escape you, pressing your face into the cushion. “Don’t even try that. Wanted this so bad, you better fucking take it.” Sukuna hissed, grasping his length as he lined up with your fluttering entrance, carefully pushing in.

The stretch teetered between pleasurable and painful, rising onto your hands and gripping the cushions underneath you as you could do nothing but whine, body shaking. Sukuna sneered at your withering form, gripping your hips tightly. “‘M not even all the way in and you’re already losing yourself..” With a final thrust he was all the way in, resting deep inside your messy pussy, stretching you so pretty. You cried out the moment his fingers gripped your hair, pulling you into a deep arch whilst hovering over body, lips brushing your ear.

“Still think I ain’t no different then a human man?”

“Fu..fuck you.” You whimpered out, breathing heavily the moment he adjusted his hips.

Sukuna snickered softly, “You already are, princess.” With the continued grip on your hair he was pulling his hips back until only the tip was inside, slamming back in. The movement caused your body to lurch forward, gasping out and greedily sucking the air back up. You opened your mouth to speak, shutting up the moment another thrust racked through your body.

And another.. and another.. and another—

His pace was relenting from the start, fucking you so harshly your body bumped against the arm rest of the couch; nails digging into the cushions as shameless moans escaped you. Each time you attempted to pull away, to run— he was grabbing you back, slapping your thighs, ass, anything he could reach. All while speaking to you in that mocking tone, ridiculing you.

“Had so much to say yet you’re running..”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, the thought melting away as his thrusts ruined you. His cock dragged against your walls, fucking each and every thought out of your mind; replacing them with him. Your eyes were pinched close, drawls of his name and moans escaping your swollen lips. “Su—sukuna, fuck..!” You cried out, feeling yourself get close.

Sukuna’s hands kept a tight grip on your hips, bottom lip caught between his sharp fangs the moment you began to fuck back against him. Your ass shook with each bounce, the man zoned in on the erotic display. Fuck, you felt so good, way too good. The man sucked his teeth, hand falling to your ass cheek and slapping one, thrusting harder than before. “Greedy fucking pussy, clenching me so damn tight..” He dragged, a groan rumbling in his chest.

Tears sprung to your eyes, head going slack as a loud cry escaped you, creaming all over his length. The mess trickled down to his balls and the couch, soaking the cushion. Your tired body went slack against the furniture, feeling his thrusts slow, but never stop. A sudden tight grip on your hair had your reeling, whining as he pulled you back.

“I’m not fucking done with you.”

The vampire wasted no time and flipping you onto your back, pulling you down by your thighs and pushing them up to sink deeper inside you. Your hands clung to his wrists, crying out at the slight burn the stretch left you. You were given no time to think, the man resuming his fearsome thrusts at a completely different angle, ramming agonist a spot inside you that caused you to completely lose your mind.

Your hands went slack, lips agape as babbles and moans escaped your raw throat. Your eyes were meeting the back of your skull, makeup a mess with wet dark streaks running down your chubby brown cheeks. Sukuna enjoyed the sight completely, eyes flicking between your face and the way his cock slid inside your pretty pussy, the white foamy mess coating his length.

He leaned over your body, legs now held up by his shoulders as he continued to fuck you. “What a mess you are.” The man hissed, hand reaching to grab your chin. “Can’t even think straight can you? I’m fucking you too dumb huh?” He mocked, your sweet moans music to his ears.

Your hands rose to his back, gripping his shirt for leverage as you came again, painting his lower body with your mess. Sukuna laughed softly at this, still fucking you despite just orgasming. “Claimed you weren’t a fang-banger yet here you are, coming all over my dick. Such a liar, (Y/N).”

Your whines didn’t go unnoticed, the man’s hand falling to your waist and lifting you up a bit, drilling into you. His cock pushed against your cervix, the pain melting with each thrust inside. You barely even registered his fangs pressing against your skin until they entered your collarbone, a strangled whine escaped you.

The man sucked the crimson droplets that released from the wound, blunt fingernails digging into your skin; Sukuna slowly getting drunk off your taste. When he had his fill he was pulling away, licking up the residue and sealing the wound. His other hand grabbed the back of your neck, lifting your head from the couch to lock lips; the metallic taste of your blood causing you to groan— all while continuing to jackhammer into you.

The vampire was right, he was fucking the attitude out of you. You so pliable, gripping onto him as if he was a lifeline and you were in the open sea. Your legs were trembling, pussy clenching and clenching, as he swallowed the sweetest moans with his lips tainted with your blood. A fucking mess you were.

His mess, obviously.

A different type of clench entered your stomach, one that caused your eyes to fly open. You pulled back from the kiss to cry out, gripping him tightly. “Wa—wait, Sukuna— hah…— please slow down!” You somehow managed out, hazy eyes staring up at the clear distaste resting on his features.

He didn’t listen, slamming into you roughly, swatting the hand away that went to press against his hips. Sukuna tutted at the whine that escaped you, drilling you deeper and deeper into the furniture. “Make another mess, ruin this fucking couch.” He hissed, feeling his own end growing close.

You tried to hold it back, back arching from the cushions as black filled streaks continued to glide down your cheeks. Soon enough you could no longer contain yourself, the band snapping inside you as you screeched in pleasure; drenching the cushions underneath you, making a complete mess of the both of you.

Sukuna grinned at this, far too caught up in his own pleasure to release a snarky comment. Instead his face fell to your neck, thrusts becoming uncoordinated before he shoved himself deep, flooding you with his come.

The sound of your pants entered the space, your hands continuing to hold onto Sukuna. Your head fell back against the couch, eyes pinched closed and focused on regaining your breath.

Moments passed before the vampire rose, pulling his hips back, shushing the sensitive whine that escaped you. Once no longer inside, Sukuna’s hands dragged down to spread you more, watching pearly white beads trickle from your opening and down to your taint. The man smirked just a tad, eyes carrying back to your tired face.

“Looks like you’re a fang-banger now.” Sukuna spoke, watching you attempt at a frustrated face which melted away the moment his thumb slid across your slit.

“Fuck, Sukuna.. I’m too sensitive right now.” You whimpered, shying away from his touch. You gasped as he gripped your thighs however, dragging you farther down the couch.

Sukuna leaned over your body, resting on a forearm placed above your head. “You have seven minutes sweetheart.”

You rose an eyebrow at his words, adjusting yourself, “For what?”

The vampire grinned, curling a piece of hair around his finger. “If you thought I was gonna stop there, I fucked you far too dumb. I’m getting rid of that attitude permanently, remember?”

Your eyes widened, excitement and fear bubbling inside you. The man leaned down, stealing your lips in a deep kiss.

You were thankful you thought to send a text message to your best friend to leave when she wanted, given you didn’t leave the room until the bar closed.

reblogs & comments are appreciated <3

[sailoryooons]

Carmen | pjm x kth (m)

☾ Pairing: Vampire!Jimin x Human!Taehyung

☾ Summary: Taehyung gets lured to an exclusive club by a strange, enchanting woman. What finds him there is much more intoxicating and dangerous. 

☾ Word Count: 10,277

☾ Genre: Supernatural, Smut, PWP

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Hypnotized/compelled decisions and thoughts, implied manipulation, Taehyung is influenced a lot by the natural power/allure of vampires and it scatters his thoughts/makes him do things he normally wouldn’t, depictions of blood, intimidation, The Vibes Are Off, light depictions of anxiety, vampires showing off humans like pets sort of, biting/marking/bruising, explicit language, explicit sexual content, not using lube, spit play/using spit as lube, light degradation, blood play/drinking, rough sex, overstimulation, oral (m. receiving), hand jobs, ass play, a lot of feelings and sensations, mentions of fear during sex, references to subspace, feeling overwhelmed during sex, crying, power dynamics but not explicitly dom/sub, blood lust, feeding frenzy, feelings of terror, Jimin calls Taehyung ‘Carmen’ sometimes - it makes sense in context, Taehyung is lured to the vampire den, implied obsessive themes (no stalking or anything), hair pulling, voyeurism, scenes of carnage and like a feed frenzy, terror at the end of fucking, idk its a vampire coven and Taehyung realizes whats happening at the very end so. 

☾ Published: October 27, 2023

☾ A/N: Happy Halloween to my baby bat @gimmethatagustd. I love you eternally, and I hope that we live a long and immortal life together. Please accept this as my love for you and I hope I am actually with you when this drops so that you can start screaming at me for hiding the fact that this fic was for you the entire time sofidjfogidjf. Also, Happy Early Birthday. I love you so much it’s actually disgusting and I need to be institutionalized. LARGELY UNEDITED SORRY. 

☾ A/N 2: If mem x mem isn't your thing - literally just don't read it. It is that easy. This is not me being a shipper - it is fiction and I do not believe in shipping people in a real-life setting. Thanks.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | Tag List | Song Inspiration | BTS Fantasy and Fangs Halloween Collab

The boys, the girls They all like Carmen -Carmen, Lana Del Ray

Taehyung knows the woman at the back of the lounge wants to take him home before his first song is over. He’s become better at picking them out early. Of course, most of the men and women want to take Taehyung home, especially when starts singing the slower, romantic ballads. He can see the way they sigh, melting in their seats a little, eyes wide and mouth open. 

It’s hard to pinpoint what makes his eyes keep straying back to her. She is beautiful, to be sure, but something is pressing in Taehyung’s mind as he starts his set, drawing his eyes back to her. Like an invisible hand guiding him each time, reminding him that she is there and watching. 

She stares at him with a pinpoint focus, her dark eyes tracking Taehyung on the stage as he walks slowly, mic in hand and singing the notes softly. His eyes keep drifting back to her, trying to make out her features. All he can garner is that her eyes are alluring and even from a distance, she emanates something. Huger. Power.

It makes his stomach flip. Taehyung likes those who want him, but he loves those who crave him. Usually, it’s the men who are hungry enough for Taehyung to chase him. To go after what they want. To whisper pretty compliments until Taehyung is so lavished in attention that he goes home with them. 

The woman at the back of the room looks like she can charm him - will charm him. It makes his lips turn upward as he croons softly into the mic, feeling the music of the band behind him swell, jazzy notes drifting. 

He loves this. His mother told him that he was born to sing. Her little songbird. His mother is dead now, but he lives on through each velvet note, warm voice pouring over the patrons who watch him with dazed expressions. 

Taehyung feels powerful this way. He could lead them all around the room, he’s sure of it. He could get them up, one by one, and lead them straight into destruction. He’s sure of it. 

Except for that woman at the back of the room, whose presence scrambles Taehyung’s thoughts. He finds it hard to perform, her presence like a weighted stone on his thoughts at all times. He nearly messes up the words to a few songs he is so enchanted. 

Still, he does well. La Vie is one of Taehyung’s favorite places to perform. The clientele is high-end, the staff likes to give him free food and drink along with a decent amount of cash for his performances, and he’s growing a steady income here. 

The only problem with La Vie is that its clientele are often repeat customers, and Taehyung has grown weary of seeing the same faces he’s taken to bed already. The faces who think they own him now, who think that just because they’ve had a taste, they can have a fit whenever his eyes stray in another direction.

And his eyes do stray. 

In the middle of his set, Taehyung takes a cool sip of water while the band plays a fast tune. He nods his head, feeling the rhythm and snapping his fingers. The stage lights are low but he feels the heat through his long-sleeved shirt and slacks, sweat dripping down the back of his neck slowly like a phantom finger. 

From the corner of his eye, Taehyung can see Constantine staring. He tries to keep his expression neutral, but he feels the sudden flash of irritation, the urge to curl his lip in annoyance. Constantine is the exact problem that Taheyung has with La Vie, except that he’s the one who got Taehyung the gig - and the manager. 

Taehyung’s throat tightens as he walks back to the stage to finish the last half of the set. The last of the songs are slower, dreamy romantic songs meant to soften the crowd before they dismiss from the lounge for the evening. The sooner he ends the show, the sooner he’ll have to field Constantine’s seeking questions and fawning. 

It presents a problem if Taehyung wants to talk to the woman at the back of the room. 

He decides not to think about it too much. Instead, he closes his eyes and sings his way through the rest of the song, voice carrying old jazz classics and his own written music. Some people would call his smooth voice haunting. Others call it hypnotizing. Taehyung doesn’t know where he stands on the subject, and he doesn’t care so much. He just likes to sing and he likes people who watch him sing. Who listen. 

There are those who come to his performances at high-end restaurants and lounges to watch him, and those who come to hear him. He prefers those who like to hear him, but any will do at the end of the night when he wants to roll around satin sheets and drink rich wine that he doesn’t have the pallet for. 

When he sings the final note of the night, it hangs in the air. This is one of Taehyung’s favorite moments of each night. It’s the last breath before his spell is broken, a moment frozen in time where all eyes are on him, the crowd so entranced that it takes a long pause for them to realize he’s finished.

The brief silence is chased with thunderous applause and people standing. He grins, feeling his chest swell with pride, blood sizzling in his veins as he bows low at the waist. He’s one of the few artists who can get this stiff, rich crowd to stand and cheer, and he knows it. 

He steps to the side and gestures to his band, the applause continuing as they each stand and bow. Though most people might feel tired after a performance, Taehyung is buzzing. He feels the adrenaline pumping through him, and after he steps down from the stage and polishes off ice-cold water, he immediately wants something harder to keep the buzz going. 

Drinks wait for him on the bar top. It’s crowded at La Vie but people make room for him at the bar. An original speakeasy from the prohibition era, it’s low-ceiling and dimly lit, offering a romantic and mysterious air hanging in the room. Taehyung places a folded wad of bills into a glass tip jar, saluting Yoongi behind the bar. The bartender nods, gracious for the tip and a confirmation that the glasses of neat are on the house. 

Taehyung knocks back the first glass. The whiskey burns down his throat. He hisses as it goes, feeling the sting in his nasal passage. He blows out a slow breath and grins to himself, pausing before he sips the next drink to shake hands with a string of patrons complimenting him. 

None of them catch his eye the way the woman at the back of the room has, though. Taehyung sees lingering looks from husbands and wives and smirks at a group of giggling women who are shy and blushing and biting their lips as they compliment him, and he feels a slight spike of irritation when Constantine takes the stool next to him.

Instead of speaking to him, Taehyung focuses on sipping the drink. It’s smooth and perfect, with a hint of orange rind that Yoongi probably burned and waved around the glass. Taehyung looks up to see the bartender cast Constantine a pitying glance before making another drink. 

“You sang well tonight,” Constantine prods. “You have such a way with the crowd.”

“Well, I supposed that’s my job.” Taehyung’s comment comes out flat. He glances at Constantine from the corner of his eye to see that he’s frowning. 

Taehyung is full of mistakes, but letting the manager of La Vie fuck him is by far one of his biggest. He usually has a rule that he doesn’t fuck the people who can interfere with his work, but he made an exception. 

Constantine is beautiful, but a bit of a fool. He inherited La Vie from a long line of family members who have kept it running, and it’s through long-term patronage and reputation alone that it’s lasted this long. Well, that and his two only successful ventures in hiring Yoongi as his main bartender who doubles as his piano player on weeknights, and Taehyung as the late-night performances most evenings. 

People don’t come to La Vie because it’s well-kept or because of Constantine’s good business acumen. They come because they want to hear Yoongi play and then watch him behind a bar all night, sweat running down his neck, dark eyes always filled with a potential promise of more. They don’t get it, of course. Yoongi doesn’t sleep around as Taehyung does, but still, the bartender and pianist is loved and lusted after by most of the patrons. 

Then there’s Taehyung. The warm opposite of Yoongi’s distant, unattainable beauty. Taehyung is full of life, accepting praise greedily, willing to flirt his way through free drinks and extra tips, especially if it lands him in the bed of someone he has been eyeing all night.

Until he broke his rule for Constantine. Pretty Constantine, who said that he was on the same page and that sleeping with Taehyung would be a casual thing. Perhaps it’s Taehyung’s fault for not seeing how mystified the lounge manager was after that first night tangled in sweaty sheets followed by a hot shower the next morning. 

Now, he’s between a rock in a hard place. Offend Constantine and risk being ousted. Keep letting him take Taehyung to bed, and he’ll never escape. 

“Your eyes are beautiful tonight,” Constantine murmurs, dipping his head to catch Taehyung’s attention. “I’d bet they’d look even better rolling in-”

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” a dark, feminine voice cuts in. “But I couldn’t resist introducing myself.”

The hair stands up on the back of Taehyung’s neck. He knows it’s the woman who watched him from the back of the room before he even turns around. When he does, he is mystified. Her eyes are lined heavily in kohl and her eyes are dark as a storm sea, pinning him to his place with their intensity. Her skin is umber and smooth, her face so flawless it leaves Taehyung reeling.

There is something uncanny about her. Taehyung can’t put his finger on it. Her eyes are narrow and sharp, her lips plump and breaking into a slow, knowing smile. She looks like the cat who ate the canary, tilting her head to the side as she continues to examine Taehyung with a feline-like gaze. 

“My name is Evangeline.” She reaches out a small, smooth hand. Her nails are filed into a point and painted a wine red. For a moment, Taehyung has the silliest thought that they look like the color of blood as he shakes her hand. He’s surprised at how cold they are, his palms tingling when she lets go. “I have not heard someone sing Ella Fitzgerald like that since… well, perhaps Ella Fitzgerald.”

Taehyung cocks his head to the side, a little confused. “Do you have Ella hidden somewhere that you can listen to her sing whenever you desire?”

“Would that I could. But that’s what… oh what is that spot app, again?”

“Spotify?”

Evangeline grins, revealing wicked, blindingly white teeth. “Spotify, yes. That little intricacy does quite a good job at catching the sound of old artists, but there is nothing like it live.”

Evangeline’s voice is like velvet. Even Constantine goes silent next to Taehyung, staring up at the woman as she slides next to Taehyung. She leans against the bar close enough that he gets the barest hint of scent like jasmine and amber. 

A shiver slides through him as she sips a glass of the darkest wine Taehyung’s ever seen. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth when he says, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before. I know most of the patrons by heart.”

“You wouldn’t have. I have not been to La Vie in a long time.” 

Taehyung realizes that she speaks with a specific articulation that hints at an accent. He can’t place it, but it’s like the sweetest music to his ears. “You’ll have to come more often, perhaps.”

“That eager to see me again?”

“I like to pride myself on repeat customers coming to hear me. It would be a shame to know you didn’t find my performance compelling enough to see another.”

“Hmm. Pride isn’t very becoming.”

Taehyung bites his lower lip, trying to hide the smile. “Spoken like a woman who can relate.” 

Evangeline is quick-witted. The rest of the world seems to fade as Taehyung talks to her. It’s strange - he cannot remember what the conversation is about, and he can’t remember Constantine leaving. He doesn’t even recall the patrons leaving the bar until it’s just Yoongi wiping down the counters, eyeing Taehyung wearily as he says goodbye, following the woman out of the door.

Blood rushes through Taehyung’s veins. It’s cold outside, winter fogging his breath. His skin tingles with the sudden temperature change, muted by the soft glow of alcohol in his system. He looks up at the sky, hot breath fogging as he inhales deeply, filling his lungs with that sharp air. 

Something about being drunk in the middle of the night during winter is magical. He can’t explain it, feeling himself smile as he drops his gaze back down to the woman next to him. For a second, he swears her face is sharper than he remembers, a look so hungry in his eyes that it makes his pulse skip.

When he blinks, she’s smirking at him, tilting her head. Taehyung realizes he is drunk, but he craves Evangeline. Wants to hear the way that dark voice of her pants against him, wants to feel her sharp nails on his skin, raking down-

“Have you ever been to the opera house on ninth?”

Taehyung pauses at her question. He feels his brows furrow as his drunk thoughts turn from thoughts of kissing Evangeline to puzzling out her question. “That exclusive club that was made out of the old opera house? What’s it called again…”

“Sanguine.”

He snaps his fingers and points at her. “Sanguine. No, I haven’t. It’s by invitation only and it’s the most exclusive club in the city. I hear it’s open all hours, though.”

“It is.”

“Wait, are you a member?” 

Evangeline sticks her hand out. Taehyung meets her gaze and it feels like he falls forward into it. All thoughts fade from his mind. There is no sound, save that of a high-pitched ringing. Everything but the glowing, otherworldly woman has faded to the back. He only sees her. 

Taehyung lifts his hand, but he doesn’t remember thinking about doing it. He places it in hers, and she laces their fingers. Her hands are bitterly cold, but she doesn’t seem to mind. He doesn’t either, skin tingling, gaze heavy on her as she tugs him along.

“Want to see it?”

He can’t form words. Suddenly feels like he can’t remember how. He nods his head instead, following her. His first few steps feel heavy and he stumbles like he has had far more to drink than he remembers. Normally, it might be cause for alarm, but Taehyung is unbothered as they walk, Evangeline’s eyes pulling him along as she walks backward. 

The world passes by but Taehyung doesn’t remember it. He is somewhat aware that his cheeks and nose are sticking with cold and that his eyes are watering from the temperature. He tilts his head upward, a little dazed and confused about where he is until he sees the golden glow of the opera house.

Sanguine. It is a massive building of white stone and ornate pillars. The architecture confuses him, a blend of Greco-Roman pillars and gargoyles he’d expect to find in a gothic church. The building is a wonderous feat of dark windows, ornate carvings in the stonework, and height. 

“The gargoyles are a bit terrifying,” Taehyung announces, staring at them fixated on top of the portico over the entryway. “Why the gargoyles?” 

“Some lessons are hard to learn.” 

Suddenly, Taehyung can’t take his eyes off of them. The two snarling beasts seem to be a bad omen and he finds himself frozen to the spot, forgetting all about the woman next to him or the invitation to see the exclusive inside of the most prestigious clubs in the city. All he knows is that suddenly, a feeling like doom has tiptoed up his back to rest on his shoulder. 

Taehyung takes a step back. The gargoyles look so much more like people when he stares at them. Twisted humanoids, crouched while screaming at the sky, showing fangs. His heart beats so hard that he feels his pulse in his throat, panic welling up inside of him, ready to spill out and overflow.

“I’m drunk,” he blurts. “I should go home. I-”

Evangeline’s cold hands grab Taehyung’s face and pull him down to her. Her lips are pressed against his and he doesn’t remember what he was worried about. His heart speeds up for different reasons now, eyes fluttering shut as he melts into her kiss, his hands going to her hips to pull her in closer. 

She tastes like dark wine and something else - a bit like iron and salt. The kiss is slow and dizzying and when she pulls away, Taehyung is eager to follow her into the dark halls of the opera house.

The lobby is dark inside. No light comes through the windows, leaving Taehyung in a complete abyss as Evangeline shuts and bolts the door behind him. A tingle slithers up Taehyung’s spine when she bolts the door and he suddenly feels like he’s never going to leave the opera house again. 

A soft din of voices and music trails to him from the doors leading to the main theater. Evangeline takes his hand and leads up toward the door. He still feels dizzy from the kiss, willing to follow her wherever she goes. 

For now, that’s the main seating area of the theater. She pulls open the heavy door, the rush of gentle voices and piano hitting him. Leading him through the door, Taehyung blinks as his eyes adjust from complete darkness to low light. It’s so dim that it takes him a moment to make out anything at all, eyes drifting up toward a massive chandelier with flickering, gold bulbs. 

The inside of the theater is like nothing Taehyung has ever seen. It has been transformed into a massive lounge with a wooden bar on the far right, manned by two bartenders. Velvet couches, chaise lounges and chairs are placed around the main floor, groups of people dressed in formal wear and dripping with jewels draping themselves over the furniture. 

Everything screams opulence. The interior still has the same baroque, elegant beauty that seems like the original design, mixed with the new additions like the bar and furniture. On the stage is a piano, a young woman playing with her eyes closed, and a cluster of people around her, gazing at her with what Taehyung can only describe as hunger. 

Evangeline leads him into the room. He feels the eyes on them as they go, glancing around nervously to realize that there is an odd mix of people in the room. There are those dressed formally in draping gowns and tuxedos, all of whom are unnaturally beautiful. Taehyung finds that his brain buzzes when he looks at them, each individual otherworldly and… cold. 

The other groups of people look like Taehyung. Starry-eyed and dressed in varying degrees of plain clothes. He wonders if they are guests as well, people brought into the fold by elegant patrons like Evangeline. 

Trepidation settles deep in Taehyung’s gut as Evangeline takes him to the bar and orders him a drink. He is tired, eyes heavy and worn at the edges. The momentary surge of adrenaline after she kissed him is wearing off, and Taehyung feels the layer of dizziness slipping off, replaced by anxiety. 

In an attempt to take the edge off, he sips his drink. Evangeline begins introducing him to groups of people, linking her arms with his and pulling him around the room. Taehyung gives her friends a dazzling smile, though he is overwhelmed by the dark eyes that meet his. The cold handshakes. The almost predatory way that the others smile at him. 

He cannot pinpoint what about the crowd is making him nervous, but as Evangeline tells someone about his singing ability, Taehyung realizes that she’s bragging. Showing him off. Pulling him around the room and gesturing to him with words like look what I found and isn’t he just darling? 

Normally, Taehyung preens with pride under the compliments and the pretty words. He loves it when people are enthralled by him, swept away by his talents. Now, something about it feels off. They don’t look at him with wonder on their faces and awe in their eyes- they coo at him. Look at him like they want to eat him whole. Like he is something they can possess. 

Only one person introduces himself and looks at Taehyung curiously instead of with lecherous intent. “Hoseok,” he says, shaking Taehyung’s hand. It’s firm and cold. “What do you like to sing?”

It’s the only time he’s been asked a question tonight. Hoseok is hauntingly beautiful, with dark eyes, a slim nose, and cheekbones that seem carved by Strazza. He is dazzling to look at, and Taehyung’s tongue feels heavy in his mouth as he says, “Jazz, mostly. Sometimes classical, but that was mostly in my younger days in school.” 

“Divine.” Hoseok’s gaze slides to Evangeline. “You know he’s… his type.”

“Well, he didn’t find him.” 

Taehyung doesn’t know who he is and he doesn’t get the chance to ask. The pianist on stage stops playing and Evangeline takes Taehyung’s hand, pulling him toward the stage. “Come on,” she gushes. “Let them hear you.”

He lets himself be pulled. Taehyung feels a coil of nerves in his stomach as she yanks him on stage and pushes him to the middle. The room quiets when they see them and Evangeline claps her hands, drawing the full attention of the lounge.

There’s no spotlight, but Taehyung feels hot under the weighted gaze. Again, his instinct tingles, trying to make him aware of something. He just doesn’t know what. He shoves down the feeling and tucks his hands into his pockets, giving a shy grin as Evangeline talks about his voice. 

The crowd of patrons lean in a little when she steps off the stage. Their gazes are sharp as razors and he can’t help but feel like a shy lamb among a pack of wolves. 

Licking his dry lips, he clears his throat and laughs awkwardly, unsure of where to look. Evangeline stands near the side of the stage, not a great point of attention as he sweeps his gaze out into the room. He fixes his eyes on the glowing red exit sign above the door and opens his mouth, taking in a deep breath before he starts a slow Sinatra number. 

His voice carries over the hushed silence, deep and swelling. He smiles a little as he sings, watching the face go from hungry to mystified. The whole room seems to lean in, people from the back moving toward the stage, drawn in by him. 

Taehyung goes right into the next song, feeling his anxiety melt away. His audience is wrapped around his finger, their eyes following him as he trails around the stage, more engaged. He makes eye contact with some of them, still flinching internally at the sheer darkness of their eyes, but still singing nonetheless. 

When Taehyung finishes, the room erupts into gentle clapping and whispered praise. He feels pride well up inside of him, flushing with pleasure as he bows at the waist, grinning under the sweet applause. He stands up and starts walking toward Evangeline, who looks at him with a smile like the sun. His heart beats a little faster, grinning widely as she claps for him excitedly and-

“Sing another.”

Taehyung realizes the room is silent. The hairs on his arms stand on end and it feels like the air gets sucked out of the room suddenly. Evangeline’s eyes flash silver for a moment, but when Taehyung recoils and blinks, they’re back to normal, though she looks put out as she steps back from Taehyung. 

Slowly, Taehyung turns to look at the edge of the stage at the owner of the soft voice and his world stops. Whoever this man puts the rest of the beauty in the room to shame. Taehyung feels his pulse race, meeting the dark, sultry gaze of the man who spoke to him. 

Something calls to Taehyung. He steps toward the man, dazed and confused, staring, staring, staring. The man has the most beautiful face Taehyung has ever seen. Round cheekbones with a chiseled jaw, plush lips tinted rose, and siren eyes that glitter as he drinks Taehyung in. This is the son of a god or a god himself, Taehyung thinks. A creature of myth and legend.

“What do you want me to sing?” Taehyung asks, barely recognizing his own voice. His ears are ringing and his thoughts are syrup-slow. 

The man smiles and Taehyung feels his stomach flutter. The man is not dressed in formal attire like the rest of the patrons. He’s dressed simply in black jeans with tears in the knee, a black turtleneck tucked into the waistband to show off his tapered waist, and a necklace that looks to be made of thorns. 

Even dressed casually, he outshines every person in the room. 

“What’s your favorite?” he asks, cocking his head to the side and regarding Taehyung. 

A flush works up Taehyung’s neck. He feels a tingle slide down his spine and a lick of pleasure curl in his stomach at the man’s gaze. His fingers twitch and his mouth feels dry. He licks his lips, trying to think of the man’s question and what his answer should be. 

“Can’t Help Falling In Love, I think.” 

The man grins and Taehyung sees stars. “You think? Or you know?”

“I know?”

“Are you asking me?” 

Taehyung shifts back and forth, shame coloring his cheeks as he looks at the floor. Effortlessly, the man jumps up on the stage. He lands silent and lithe as a cat. Taehyung’s eyes widen as he approaches, his gait smooth, footfalls unheard. “I’m only teasing, sweetling. What’s your name?”

“Taehyung.” 

The man stops right in front of Taehyung. He’s shorter, but somehow Taehyung feels small and delicate in his presence, wavering as the smell of orange blossom and something darker washes over him. Taehyung’s eyelids flutter and he fights the urge to lean in closer to the man, to brush his fingers across his skin. 

“I’m Jimin.” Jimin reaches out and brushes his fingers across Taehyung’s cheekbone. His touch leaves a trail of tingling cold. Taehyung closes his eyes, breath catching. Whatever this spell he’s under, he can’t shake it, gone with just a touch. “I want you to sing for me, Taehyung.” 

“Okay.” 

Jimin steps away and Taehyung makes a sound, protesting. His mind is warring between confusion at his reaction and the need to be near Jimin. The duller part of his thoughts is careening, telling him to pull it together, to stop and leave. But the desire shaken awake by Jimin is so much louder, commanding Taehyung’s thoughts.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin murmurs, gesturing to where Evangeline is standing. “I’ll be right there.” 

Taehyung watches as Jimin glides over to the edge of the stage. He whispers something to Evangeline that Taehyung cannot hear but he watches the change in the woman. She ripples with anger, her lip curling up in a snarl. Jimin says something else to her and in the blink of an eye, her head is bowed, her shoulders coming up as she steps back, cowering. 

When Jimin turns around, he gives Taehyung an encouraging smile. The effect is instantaneous. Taehyung feels giddy inside, joy bubbling up as he returns the smile shyly. Gone is the anxiety, gone is the strange feeling of being paraded around. Now, all he can think about is Jimin’s dark eyes, the way they track him as he moves to the middle of the stage again. 

As Taehyung starts the song, he wonders if this is what Elvis was singing about. If wise men were right and that only fools fall in love. Can love at first sight be a thing? As Taehyung sings the song softly, looking at Jimin every so often, his eyes drawn to him like a magnet, he thinks perhaps this song was written about Jimin. 

It isn’t rational. Taehyung knows this and yet barely acknowledges it, watching Jimin’s eyes shine with something as Taehyung finishes the song. For a moment, no one claps. Taehyung looks nervously around the theater, watching as the eyes of the crowd look at Jimin. Once he applauds, the rest follow. 

Taehyung lets out a relieved breath, smiling and bowing shallowly. Jimin approaches him again. It occurs to Taehyung that Jimin walks like a jungle cat, smooth and somehow lethal. 

“You have the most exquisite voice,” Jimin says gently, shaking his head. “You are a rare treasure, Taehyung.” He holds out a hand. “Join me?” 

Taehyung starts to reach for Jimin before he hesitates, eyes glancing up over Jimin’s head at Evangeline, who looks murderous. “You are far too precious for her,” Jimin growls. “It is insulting that she thinks she could ever have you.”

Instead of answering, Taehyung just nods. His eyelids feel heavy, his heady swimming like he’s buzzing off a fresh glass of liquor. Jimin links their hands together and tugs Taehyung along. As they pass Evangeline, she doesn’t dare look at them, her eyes fixed on the floor. 

At the foot of the stairs, Hoseok is standing, arms crossed over his chest and smirking. He shakes his head when he sees Jimin, falling into step with him. “I told her.” 

“Thank you for alerting me,” Jimin tells Hoseok. Jimin turns over his shoulder where Taehyung is trailing a footstep behind. “I would have missed out on him.” 

Hoseok breaks off from them, walking toward the bar. Someone takes up the piano again as Jimin leads Taehyung out of the main theater and to a stairwell. He says nothing, following Jimin’s lead in silence, steps heavy. It feels like he’s underwater, everything dull around him. 

Except Jimin, who is sharp and bright and alive in his mind. 

Jimin leads Taehyung down a hall and through a door. It opens up into a balcony suite. What was once a private box for watching the opera has been turned into a luxurious room of sorts, making Taehyung raise his eyebrows. 

A lounge area is in the middle of the suite, and there is a single bed tucked into the corner. A wet bar is placed at the back, along with a doorway that leads into a refurbished bathroom. Taehyung pauses as Jimin drops his hand, looking around to appreciate the velvet drapery on the wall and the ornate decor in the room. 

It feels like he has stepped back in time, a mix of modern and Victorian meshing in a way that Taehyung finds wonderfully elegant. Jimin goes to the wet bar and retrieves two glasses, pouring them a finger of whiskey each. Taehyung walks toward him, looking out at the lounge beneath. 

“It’s designed like a bedroom?” Taehyung inquires, eyes drifting back to Jimin, who smiles as he brings the glass up to his lips. His sharp eyes pin Taehyung to the spot as he sips. “Do you… live here?”

Jimin shrugs. “Sometimes.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

Instead of answering the question, Jimin gestures for Taehyung to walk with him, leading him to a rich, crushed velvet couch that overlooks the lounge. Taehyung takes a sip of the whiskey but it’s Jimin who makes him feel drunk and cottony.

He sits next to Jimin, limbs stiff. Jimin giggles at Taehyung’s awkwardness, tsking at him as he leans over and pulls Taehyung toward him, pressing their thighs and sides together as they watch the party unfold below. Butterflies flutter in Taehyung’s smile as he looks at Jimin, who is watching Taehyung with rapt attention. 

Being so near Jimin is difficult. This close, he’s even more beautiful than before. Taehyung doesn’t know how it’s possible. Jimin’s lashes are long, framing his beautiful eyes. His dark hair looks silky and soft, tucked behind his ears as he regards Taehyung with a fond expression. 

Heat climbs up Taehyung’s neck and between his legs, a heady feeling sinking deep in his stomach under Jimin’s gaze.

“What?” Taehyung asks, looking down at his lap and chewing the inside of his cheek. He’s never felt so bashful under someone’s gaze before. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re beautiful, of course.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t be shy now,” Jimin tuts. “You were quite confident on stage earlier. I believe the entire room fell in love with you.” Taehyung shrugs his shoulders and Jimin laughs loudly. “Now you’re humble? You are a delightful creature, Taehyung. Tell me, have you ever been to the opera?” 

“No, but I’m familiar with some.”

“What about Carmen?” Jimin asks. He reaches forward and drags a finger across Taehyung’s thigh. Taehyung holds back a groan as Jimin starts tracing patterns on Taehyung’s thigh. “Have you heard of that one?” 

“I’m familiar with the Habanera.” 

“Ah yes. It’s about a woman named Carmen who everyone is in love with. She entrances men with her vitality and sensuality. A man named José falls madly in love with her at first sight, abandoning the army, his wife, and his children for her.” 

Taehyung finds it hard to listen. Even through the fabric of his pants, Jimin’s touch is tantalizing. Taehyung’s legs widen a fraction, his spine tingling. He leans his head back, feeling breathless as Jimin’s tracing gets higher and higher, teasing Taehyung before his touch moves toward Taehyung’s knee again. 

“José, of course, is not the only one in love with Carmen. She is infectious, tempting everyone she comes into contact with.” Jimin leans toward Taehyung, so close that his breath ghosts across Taehyung’s throat. He feels his heart speed up as Jimin lowers his voice and continues, “You remind me so much of Carmen. Charming everyone around you with a simple look, with the sound of your voice. So addicting without even a taste.” 

“O-oh.” 

Jimin presses his face into the crook of Taehyung’s neck. Taehyung nearly drops the glass in his hand, placing it next to him on the couch as his breathing hitches. Jimin runs his nose up Jimin’s too-hot skin, making Taehyung squirm. 

“I fear I have the same weakness as José and you have hypnotized me like Carmen.” 

“Me?”

Jimin nips Taehyung’s ear and Taehyung lets out a throaty, moan. Jimin’s breath across his skin is maddening, colors swimming behind squeezed-shut eyes. His dick hardens in his pants, blood pumping through him, arousal unfolding like the slow-blooming petals of a flower. 

“Don’t sound so surprised. You know the effect you have on people.”

“I do,” Taheyung admits. 

“Look at me.” 

It is a command. Taehyung obeys, turning his face to look up at Jimin. Jimin’s pupils are blown wide, hypnotizing, and alluring as he looks down his nose at Taehyung. Desire stirs so strongly in Taehyung that he parts his lips open, making a small noise as Jimin’s touch on Taehyung’s thigh turns to a solid grip, fingers digging in. 

“Do you want me, my Carmen? Do you desire me?”

“Yes,” Taehyung breathes. “Please.” 

“Ask, then.” 

Jimin’s eyes are so hungry that Taehyung is lost in them. Jimin is on his knees on the couch now, pressed against Taehyung. It feels more intimate than anything Taehyungh has ever felt and they’re barely touching, Jimin gripping Taehyung’s thigh, his mouth hovering inches above Taehyung’s.

“Ask,” Jimin growls, the sound rumbling from somewhere in Taehyung’s chest. Jimin might be smaller than Taehyung but the power that emanates from him is intoxicating and sweeping, making Taehyung shudder.

“Please,” Taehyung says again. “I want you. Will you have me? Please.”

Jimin’s grip is iron. “Of course I will. You’re mine.” 

Taehyung feels like Jimin’s as Jimin steals a searing kiss from him. Taehyung gasps into the kiss, melting into the couch as Jimin licks into the wet heat of Taehyung’s mouth. Jimin is all-consuming, his lips sliding against Taehyung’s hungrily, his tongue brushing against the ridges of Taehyung’s mouth.

It’s just a kiss and yet Taehyung loses himself in it. It’s needy and torrid, their teeth clicking together, lips sliding. Taehyung grabs the front of Jimin’s shirt, uncaring if he wrinkles it as Jimin presses Taehyung into the back of the couch, straddling him. Jimin’s fingers tangle in Taehyung’s hair, pulling harshly. 

The pleasure-pain makes Taehyung moan. Jimin hums, his devilish mouth moving from Taehyung’s lips to his jaw, biting and sucking harshly at the skin. It feels so good. Taehyung just lies there and takes it, hissing as Jimin’s teeth pinch and pull his skin, followed by Jimin’s soothing tongue, rough and wet.

The ache in his dick grows, especially as Jimin puts weight on it, sitting in his lap and leaning and rolling his hips forward, pressing into Taehyung’s cock and driving him wild. He feels out of control, like the room is spinning and Jimin’s kisses are going straight to Taehyung’s veins. 

“Fuck,” he gasps as Jimin licks hungrily at Taehyung’s neck. Jimin drags his blunt nails along Taehyung’s scalp, sending sparks down his neck and spine. “Please.”

“Please what,” Jimin pants, mouthing at Taehyung’s collarbones. “Tell me what you need, my wonderful Carmen.” 

It should be strange to be called by another name and yet, Taehyung shivers at the rasp in Jimin’s voice. Every single part of him is suddenly alive like his nerves are exposed to Jimin’s hands and mouth. Taehyung can’t remember the last time he felt like this with such simple touches. 

Perhaps never. 

“Fuck me,” Taehyung breathes. “I want you to fuck me.” 

Jimin smiles against Taehyung’s mouth. “Oh, I’ll fuck you.” 

A thrill goes through Taehyung as Jimin grabs him and slams him against the couch. His world spins and he’s suddenly facing the ceiling of the suite, panting and delirious as Jimin pins him down, littering his skin with bites and sloppy kisses.

Some of Jimin’s nipping hurts but it adds to the pleasure, Taehyung barreling straight into a slow, pleasured haze as Jimin pulls Taehyung’s shirt off roughly. Cool air kisses his flushed skin. Taehyung claws at the jacket on Jimin’s shoulders, pushing it off of him until he’s free of it, Taehyung’s hands seeking the flexing muscle of Jimin’s arms. 

Jimin’s hand goes to Taehyung’s throat. His hand is small but it squeezes pleasantly as Jimin kisses down Taehyung’s chest. Taehyung grinds up against Jimin, trying to relieve the pressure aching in his cock, a whine leaving his mouth. He feels Jimin’s breath across his skin as he laughs before fixing his mouth on a nipple, making Taehyung keen.

The stimulation is too much and not enough. It feels like Taehyung is ripping at the seams - burst at the seams from the pressure mounting inside of him. What has Jimin done to him to command his body? 

“Everyone can hear you,” Jimin teases, flicking his long, wicked tongue out to tease Taehyung’s already abused nipple. He drags his tongue across Taehyung’s chest, leaving a wet trail of spit as he goes. “Can hear you whining like a little whore. Is that what you want?”

Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut as he feels Jimin’s teeth scrape against his other nipple. He nods his head, unable to form a verbal answer to Jimin’s question. 

“Hmm,” Jimin hums, tongue lashing. “Good boy. Let them know you’re mine. They’ll wait for us to have our fun before they start.”

Taehyung has no idea what that means. He doesn’t ask. Instead, his hands slip down Jimin’s stomach and under his shirt, touching his skin. Jimin is cool to the touch, his stomach muscles flexing under Taehyung’s inquisitive fingers. He grabs at Jimin’s hips, but his fingers slip away as Jimin sinks lower down Taehyung’s body, nipping and sucking as he goes. 

Opening his eyes, Taehyung watches with heavy lids as Jimin settles between Taehyung’s legs, looking up at him. His hair hangs in his eyes, which glint wickedly as his nimble fingers work the zipper on Taehyung’s pants. He can’t look away from Jimin, hypnotized by the movement, but the way Jimin grins and pulls open Taehyung’s pants, leaning forward to lick at the damp spot on Taehyung’s briefs. 

Taehyung’s head drops back and he moans loudly, feeling the pressure of Jimin’s wet tongue through the thin fabric. Jimin mouths at the crown of Taehuyng’s cock, sending jolts of pleasure straight to him. He grabs the back of the couch with one and presses his first to the mouth with the other, biting as he bucks his hips.

“So sensitive,” Jimin coos. His hands grab the top of Taehyung’s pants and the elastic band of his briefs and pull hard, making Taehyung yelp as Jimin unclothes him in one fell swoop. “Think you can take it?”

Taehyung nods quickly, making himself dizzy with the force. Jimin laughs and reaches out, gripping Taehyung’s shaft and pumping him slowly. Jimin’s touch is electrifying, Taehyung’s hips canting upwards to fuck himself into Jimin’s palm, head lolling to the side. 

Jimin spits loudly, coating Taehyung’s cock with spit, his hand gliding firmly to the base of Taehuyng’s shaft. “Just like that,” Jimin whispers. “Fuck yourself into my hand.” 

Taehyung doesn’t need to be told twice. He does so vigorously, chasing the feel of Jimin’s tight, wet fist and the cool feel of his skin. When Taehyung feels Jimin’s tongue kitten lick the tip of his cock, he clenches his teeth, slowly his wild thrusting to allow Jimin’s mouth to explore. 

It’s hard not to bust immediately. He feels his orgasm looming from the barest stimulation. Suddenly it’s like Taehyung is back in high school having his dick sucked for the first time, trembling and trying not to come as Jimin suckles the head of Taehyung’s dick, mouthing at it greedily. 

The room feels like it’s spinning. Taehyung cannot hear beyond the balcony. All he can hear are the wet sounds of Jimin taking Taehyung into his mouth, sucking generously, tongue brushing on the underside of Taehyung’s shaft. 

Jimin pulls off of Taehyung with a wet pop. “You taste so sweet,” he groans, tongue flicking against Taehyung’s frenulum. Taehyung feels wrecked already, sagging and boneless, unable to do anything against the onslaught of Jimin’s mouth. “Sounds so sweet, just like you sing.”

Slowly, Jimin drags his tongue south. He strokes Taehyung lazily with his hand, mouthing at Taehyung’s balls. Taehyung’s fingers feel like they’ll break as he grips the couch, overwhelmed by the stimulation, crying out, muscles squeezing, head spinning, blood roaring. 

“Such pretty sounds,” Jimin murmurs again, dragging his tongue upward. “Sing for me, my Carmen.”

A broken sob sound leaves Taehyung’s mouth as Jimin takes Taehyung to the back of his throat. The wet heat of Jimin’s mouth is an inferno, his throat tight and soft and oh god he’s swallowing. Taehyung lashes against the couch, hands shooting to Jimin’s hair as his throat constricts tightly around Taehyung. 

He feels the spit sliding down his shaft, his stomach so tight and his dick so hard he knows he’s about to come any second, every atom buzzing. 

“I’m gonna-” he can’t finish the sentence, shaking his head back and forth. His heart beats so hard in his chest he thinks he might die before he hits his peak. “Fuck, Jimin. Fuck fuck fuck.” 

Jimin redoubles his efforts. Squeezes Taehyung’s balls with his hand, letting Taehyung shove his hips forward, Jimin’s throat squeezing Taehyung until he’s coming hard. Jimin takes it in stride, swallowing down Taehyung’s cum. 

And he doesn’t stop. 

Taehyung’s hands start to push at Jimin. Tries to pull him off Taehyung’s cock, tries to scoot away. The pleasure morphs into overstimulation. It hurts so good that Taehyung is collapsing into the couch, kicking and bucking and crying as Jimin keeps going, his hand pumping, mouth sucking. 

If there is a god, there must be a devil. And if there is a devil, Taehyung knows that he is between Taehyung’s legs, working him to another orgasm somehow, driving Taehyung to madness as he goes. Jimin pulls off Taehyung’s dick with a sticky sound, moaning sweetly at the mess Taehyung has become. 

“You can take it,” Jimin coos. “I know you can. You said you can.” 

Taehyung nods. Tears sting his eyes and he tries to take a deep breath. He blinks his eyes open, watching as the ceiling swims into picture, a little blurry from the tears. He takes deep, shuttering inhales, his lungs rattling as he does. When he looks down at Jimin, he wishes he didn’t open his eyes. 

He almost doesn’t recognize whatever it is that is laving at his weeping cock. Jimin’s face is crueler somehow. More beautiful, but terrifying. Taehyung swears the veins around his eyes are darker and the scrape of his teeth is sharper. 

The orgasm must have made him delirious. It’s the only explanation, especially as Jimin works him hard again, Taehyung aching to explode once more. 

Jimin pulls off of Taehyung and crawls upward. Taehyung thinks Jimin looks like an apex predator for a single, terrifying moment. And then Jimin is kissing him, making Taehuyng’s thoughts turn to white noise as Taehyung presses his tongue into Jimin’s mouth, tasting spit and cum and something like iron and salt.  

Something pricks Taehyung’s mouth. He lets out a surprised sound, his mouth filling with a warm, metallic substance. Jimin’s kiss becomes frenzied. The force of it startles Taehyung, fear wiggling its way into his mind as Jimin presses down on him. 

Jimin becomes overwhelmed. A force that Taehyung cannot escape, completely trapped and helpless, still dizzy and uncoordinated from the overstimulation. It excites him. Taehyung realizes with mild terror that he likes this feeling, likes being overpowered and pushed to the edge. 

He lets Jimin suck greedily on his bleeding lip. He’s too focused on the ache between his legs and the mind-melting way Jimin makes him feel to realize that Jimin is hyper-fixated on his bleeding mouth. He kisses Jimin back as best as he can, though it’s more of a slide of lips and tongue than an intentional kiss. 

“Turn over for me,” Jimin grumbles. He’s already gripping Taehuyng and trying to turn him over. Taehyung struggles to make his limbs work but manages to flip, mostly due to Jimin lifting him and turning him, once again showing how strong he is. “Gonna work you open for my cock.”

A pathetic sound escapes Taehyung’s mouth. His cheek hits the soft velvet. It’s grounding, feeling the gentle scrape of it against his sensitive skin. His cock is pressed tight between his stomach and the cushions, but it’s less invasive than Jimin’s hungry mouth, a brief respite. 

Wet lips trail Taehyung’s spine as Jimin descends. Taehyung’s breathing is ragged and heavy, gulping down cool air as he trembles under Jimin’s rough mouth. He likes that Jimin doesn’t handle him with kid gloves. That Jimin keeps Taehyung to his word, driving him into a manic state. 

Taehyung still feels like he’s on the edge of that mania when he feels Jimin’s fingers slip between his ass, seeking. He flinches when Jimin brushes against his tight rim, the muscles clenching, afraid. Jimin laughs but doesn’t push it, instead peeling Taehyung apart to spit noisily. 

A gentle sigh drips from Taehyung’s mouth. He feels the spit slide, the sensation heightened. Jimin’s finger traces after it, circling Taehyung’s asshole lightly. His toes curl at the light stimulation. It feels good, but it’s hard to control the muscle's instinct to reject and contract. 

Jimin doesn’t seem to mind. He leans forward, his fingers pressed firmly in the seam of Taehyung’s ass, his mouth pressing butterfly-soft kisses to Taehyung’s spine. 

Taehyung feels like Jimin’s instrument. Jimin works him open slowly and gently, at ends with how he was driving Taehyung to madness minutes prior. The swing to gentle and soothing has Taehyung confused and reeling, his brain trying to keep up with the sensations tingling through his body. 

When Jimin slowly breaches Taehyung’s tight ring of muscles, he lets out a pathetic keen. Taehyung is too loose-limbed and fuzzy-brained to do anything but take it. The intrusion burns for a second, but levels out to be pleasurable. 

Cold liquid slides down Jimin’s fingers, easing the slide. Taehyung sighs, relief unfurling slowly as the burn goes quiet and all that’s left is the stretch and the pressure of Jimin working Taehyung’s walls open. Toe-curling pleasure sweeps through Taehyung. He bites his bottom lip, lifting his ass in small, half-hearted twitches to meet the push and pull of Jimin’s fingers.

“Mhmm,” Jimin encourages, teeth scraping Taehyung’s shoulder blade. His breath is cool on Taehyung’s warm skin. “Take what you want, sweetling. Open yourself up for me.”

It smells like sweat and orange blossoms, Taehyung’s skin covered in their mixed scents. His sensitive cock drags against the fabric of the couch, sparking pleasure and pain as he fucks himself into the palm of Jimin’s hand. Jimin’s fingers are small but do the job, pressing against the most sensitive parts of Taehyung, making his breath ragged. 

Everything feels like it’s on fire as Jimin pushes in another finger. Taehyung feels the wet schlick of lube or whatever Jimin has used to make the slide easier. He feels fuller, moaning like a whore as he chases the electric feeling under his skin, coming alive under the careful press of Jimin’s fingers. 

“So good for me,” Jimin whispers, biting Taeyung’s ear. His breath is hot against the side of Taehyung’s face. “Gonna take my cock so well, huh?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Fuck,” Jimin swears. “I can’t wait. This is what you do to me.”

Jimin pulls his fingers out. Taehyung complains, feeling the empty gape. Jimin shushes him and presses his clothed cock against Taehyung’s ass, letting him feel how hard Jimin is. Taehyung grinds his ass against Jimin’s crotch, making the other moan. 

A shirt flys past Taehyung. He realizes that it must be Jimin’s turning and angling his head to see the man in question. He is utterly divine, his compact body graceful and deadly, lined with muscle and delicate lines. Jimin undoes the belt of his jeans and pulls them down, palming himself over his briefs as he kicks out of his pants. 

Taehyung can’t help but stare, lips parted. Jimin is a vision, his face still masked in something lethal and terrifying that makes Taehyung excited and afraid all at the same time. The mixture is intoxicating, sending his thoughts somewhere distant and fuzzy where all he can do is watch Jimin pull his briefs down to reveal a thick, leaking cock. 

On instinct, Taehyung scoots toward Jimin. The other laughs, giving Taehyung a quick, harsh smack on the ass. His skin stings where Jimin’s hand connects, earning a whimper. Jimin tuts at Taehyung, fisting his cock leisurely as he does. 

“So needy,” he grumbles. “So hungry for cock. You’re just like Carmen, you know? Addicting, needy, breaking down my will to give you whatever you want. This must be how Jose felt, ready to give her everything. Pliable. So willing.” 

“And you? How do you feel?”

Jimin’s gaze is dark and heavy. Taehyung holds his breath, pinned to the spot. He feels Jimin’s cockhead nudge the tight rim of his ass as Jimin settles behind him, looking at Taehyung so intensely that Taehyung feels as though he will wither away. Ashes to ashes. 

“Like I want to give you the world.” 

“Please.”

“You have to give it back. You have to be mine.” 

Taehyung is nodding before Jimin even finishes his sentence. Taehyung will give him anything he wants, as long as it means Jimin will push forward and relieve the aching weight of Taehyung’s needs. He is filled with so much carnal desire he thinks he would do anything Jimin asks of him. 

“Yours,” Taehyung agrees. He tries to push back and spear himself on Jimin’s cock, but Jimin’s grip is iron, holding him in place. “Yours.” 

That’s all it takes for Jimin to sigh, pleased. He pushes in slowly, Taehyung gasping and grabbing the couch at the intrusion. His walls flutter around Jimin’s cock. It’s a tight fit, a slow, pleasure-filled agony that ripples through him. 

Taehyung is hyper aware of how full he feels. It is perfect, his mind turning to static as he lays his face down on the couch, breathing strained and heart hammering. Jimin praises him gently, coaxing Taehyung to calm down with gentle kisses on the back of his neck, shoulders, and head. Jimin is fully seated, his hips pressed to Taehyung’s ass. It feels good, the pain retreating and leaving nothing but bliss in its wake. 

Jimin pulls out, the rough drag of his cock sending Taehyung into a spiral before Jimin snaps his hips forward again. Taehyung lets out a desperate sound, feeling his eyes roll back into his head as Jimin starts to fuck him slowly. 

It feels hot. Jimin cages Taehyung in, his chest pressed to Taehyung’s back, humid air trapped between their bodies. Jimin’s skin is cool to the touch, such a contrast to the warmth radiating from Taehyung. The mix of hot and cold only heightens the sensations, everything feeling sharp and powerful. 

Jimin’s teeth scrape Taehyung’s shoulder. Taehyung doesn’t know why, but he leans his head to the side, giving Jimin free access to litter his throat with sloppy kisses. Taehyung feels broken under the weight of Jimin’s thrusts, the wet sound of his cock pushing deeper into Taehyung until it’s pressing against the deepest part of him, making Taehyung kick his feet as the pleasure builds.

It’s so good it hurts. Taehyung is reeling, having never felt like this when being fucked. Jimin chuckles darkly against his ear, tongue licking the shell of Taehyung’s ear before whispering, “You take it so well.” Taehyung whines in response, pushing his ass back to meet Jimin’s hips as best as he can. “Such an eager little slut. Everyone can hear you getting fucked - do you like that?”

Taehyung nods his head. Jimin grabs him by the hair, pulling Taehyung upward so that Jimin’s chin is slotted on Taehyung’s shoulder. Taehyung’s neck cranes painfully and he opens his eyes, looking at Jimin’s side profile. 

“I said do you like that?” 

“Yes!”

“Come here, let’s show them.” 

Everything goes off balance. Jimin picks Taehyung up off of the couch like he’s a ragdoll, spinning him so that his feet hit the ground and he’s pushed up against the balcony railing. He barely has the coordination to plant his feet on the ground and grab the railing before Jimin is pressing back in, splitting him apart for everyone to see. 

Taehyung casts his head back, eyes closed. He doesn’t want to look down, doesn’t want to see the faces of the onlookers as he moans loudly, feeling flushed and breathy as Jimin fucks him hard. Taehyung sees stars behind his eyelid, laying his head back on Jimin’s shoulders, his hands gripping the railing as Jimin hammers into Taehyung’s prostate. 

It feels like Taehyung’s blood is on fire. Something like glee unfurls in him at the thought of everyone below seeing how perfect he is for Jimin. That Jimin chose Taehyung and no one else. That Taehyung is the perfect, pliant partner for Jimin. He doesn’t want to see their faces - he’s too shy for now - but he silently revels in the fact that they’ll know from this moment forward that Taehyung is Jimin’s in some capacity. 

His mind hasn’t caught up to what exactly that capacity is, blinded by the way he teeters on the edge of coming again. 

“This is going to hurt at first,” Jimin whispers against Taehyung’s throat. 

There’s a brief moment of confusion. Taehyung is unable to think beyond the thick, heady haze clouding his mind, but then searing pain rips through his neck. His eyes fly open and he gasps, too shocked to scream properly where he feels blinding pain throbbing from the side of his throat. 

Taehyung’s hand shoots up to Jimin’s face, digging in his hair. Jimin’s mouth is pressed against Taehyung’s throat and it takes a moment for Taehyung to realize Jimin is biting him clean through the skin. 

Panic shoots through him. He clutches at Jimin’s hair, pulling tight at the strands to pull him off. Jimin doesn’t budge, his mouth fixed to the tender flesh of Taehyung’s throat. Then Taehyung feels Jimin’s tongue. The subtle pull of his mouth, the drag of his blood. 

The pain fades into something else. His neck tingles, fire replaced with numbness. Taehyung’s eyes flutter shut as a high unlike anything else hits him. Jimin is still fucking him, his pace picking up, his thrusts becoming savage as he takes deep swallows at Taehyung’s neck.

Taehyung is vaguely aware that Jimin is drinking his blood. He can’t process beyond that acknowledgement, too caught up in the euphoria glittering through his veins, turning his blood to molten lava. His head falls forward, too heavy for him to hold up, eyes closed and sinking into the feeling. 

His orgasm comes swift and hard. Every muscle in Taehyung’s body squeezes tight with a force he’s never felt. It feels like he might collapse in on himself, a star going supernova before it implodes, sucking everything inward. 

Jimin lets go of Taehyung's neck, gasping as he feels Taehyung squeezes his cock. The wet gurgle of a moan from Jimin’s mouth makes Taehyung turn and look at him. Taehyung is bent over the railing now, sweaty chest sliding back and forth as Jimin’s hips jostle him. Jimin is standing straight, his hands gripping Taehyung’s hips to hold him in place as he fucks him viciously, chasing his high. 

But what freezes Taehyung in place isn’t the powerful body driving him into overstimulation. It isn’t the beautiful, lithe lines of Jimin’s chest and arms or the beautiful way his eyes drink Taehyung in. It’s the blood running down Jimin’s neck and chest that startles him. The crimson smear across Jimin’s mouth, which is parted as Jimin tilts his head upward, tongue coming out to run across his bottom lip. 

A glint of white catches Taehyung’s eyes and his heart stops. Two fangs, stark against the wine-red mouth filled with blood - Taehyung’s blood. His heart skyrockets for a whole new reason and he tries to think but his mind is too slow. Sluggish. Still crawling through the high that Jimin’s bite injected him with. 

“Jimin?” it comes out slurred and terrified as Taehyung watches Jimin lower his face, eyes finding Taehyung. He still looks beautiful with the lower half of his face colored in blood, but he is terrifying, and destructive. Taehyung thinks he might die of fright even as his stomach flips with arousal again. “What…?”

“Look at them,” Jimin grins, mouth a red gash. He grabs Taehyung's hair and forces the boy to turn toward the scene below. “Look how they waited so patiently for me to start. To fuck, to feed. They waited for you - to come and bleed. They don’t indulge until you’re done, my sweet Carmen.” 

It takes several moments for Taehyung to piece together the tableau unfolding beneath him. What appears to be a mess of blurry images and sounds morphs into something else, the edges of his clarity sharpening as Taehyung blinks through the fog of pleasure. What he thought was going to be patrons looking up at the balcony as he’s ravaged is not at all the case. 

Below is unleashed carnal energy. He sees bodies writhing. Scarlet ribbons of blood flowing down necks, in between thighs, down shoulders. His eyes sweep the landscape of bodies fucking and thrusting and bending, of screaming of pinning down, of biting. 

Vampires. 

The word suddenly comes to Taehyung in a moment of clarity, the word ringing out so clearly in his mind that he jerks upward underneath Jimin’s grip. The vampires below chase the humans in the room. Taehyung realizes that all of the patrons dressed in finery are slamming people dressed in plain clothes to the ground and onto furniture, fixing their mouths on them, and ripping their shirts open. 

“Oh my god,” Taehyung breathes, finally breaking free of the murky mist of lust. “What are you?” 

Jimin presses against Taehyung, slamming his hips in deep one more time as he comes with a feral growl. His hands are tight in Taehyung’s hair and his mouth is rough against his ear. “I’m yours,” Jimin answers, voice low. “I’m José and you are my Carmen.” 

Dizziness sweeps over Taehyung, feeling like darkness is racing up to greet him. “Yours,” Taehyung agrees, slow blinking as Jimin’s teeth sink into his shoulder again. “Your Carmen.” 

-

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Please note: typically I would reblog with my tag list, but this drop is scheduled while I am traveling and I am unable to reblog and tag, so I’ve just done it as part of the main body. 

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ 𝖇𝖊𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖎'𝖒 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉 ♡

♡ Pairing: vampire!bang chan x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Summary: When playing with devils you must be careful not to become one yourself. Unless, of course, you want to...

♡ Genre: smut/angst w/ horror elements

♡ Word Count: 1.6k-ish

♡ Warnings: blood, biting, discussion of violence/death, unprotected sex (the man's literally dead though so, like...), reader death (only on a technicality. you're fine)

Limbs scattered through garbage-riddled alleys. Intestines strung from archways like streamers for some grand party. Bodies drained of blood. Husks of what they once were. Unrecognizable to even those closest to them.

What kind of monster could do such a thing? Despite the police department’s best efforts, the culprit that terrorizes the city, snatching victims in the darkest crevices of the night, remains a mystery to them. To everyone. Everyone, that is, but you. 

You know for a fact that the shadow looming at the end of your bed, this creature masquerading as a man, is responsible for these atrocities and, with the exception of a few unfortunate souls, he carries little remorse about what he’s done.

Chan honors your request not to hear the gory details of what he does but it’s difficult to escape them. It’s all over the news and social media. Your coworkers won’t shut up about it. It’s enough to make you sick to your stomach. Enough to make you never want to lay eyes on him again. 

But when he appears in your apartment tonight, the same as he has countless nights before, his eyes shimmering pools of black, he awakens something inside of you that makes your knowledge of what he’s done as hazy as a bad dream. You watch as he steps into the soft light cast through your window by the full moon.

Chan’s breathtakingly handsome, gifted with a body built for sin and bone structure to die for. It’s almost as if his maker crafted him for the express purpose of getting you to compromise your mortal soul. Chan laughs, cracking a devilish grin, “It’s a little too late for that isn’t it, my love?” You crawl to the middle of the bed, sitting with your legs tucked beneath you.

“Too late for what?” He comes face to face with you, the razor-sharp tips of his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “The whole ‘compromising your mortal soul’ thing.” Chan pinches one of your fluffy cheeks, his full lips pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re damned. The same as me.” A chill blows through you, the kind that whistles through long abandoned caves, at the thought that he might be right.

You shake it off, nervously running your fingers across the intricate lacing at the breast of your sheer black nightgown. “We are nothing alike” you snap, “And stop reading my mind!” Chan backs away from you, discarding what’s left of his clothes, and, ignoring your wish for your thoughts to remain untouched, listens in on the filth that lurks in the back of your mind when you see how hard you’ve gotten him.

That is why you wore something see-through, isn’t it? To tempt him with your lush breasts and the stiffening buds at their peaks. You know how ravenous it makes him to have free access to the softness of your stomach. To see your pillowy thighs grow even thicker when you sit the way you do now. 

You intended to send all of the blood rushing through the veins that travel along his thick, lengthy cock. Craved the sight of it, without even the most fleeting concern for whose blood it actually was. You blink and he’s behind you on the bed, his nails carefully shredding your nightgown to pieces.

The fabric melts down your body as smooth as butter. Chan takes your breasts into his hands, caressing them as he kisses your neck. “Tell me you want me to leave and I will.” Your head falls back on his shoulder, arms reaching back, fingers threading through his hair.

The coldness of his body battles the warmth of yours, a dynamic that has you sweating and shivering all at once. “Just say it,” he whispers, his right hand kneading your gentle form as he works his way down to your thighs, effortlessly parting them. 

“You want my help?” he asks, lightly squeezing your clit between his pointer and index fingers, “Repeat after me.”

“I…”

“I…” you whine, gripping his hair tighter. 

“Want…”

“Want…”

“You…”

“You...”

Chan dips his hand further between your thighs, muscles flexing beneath his skin as his fingers curve into you. “I want you” he hums, fangs pricking at your neck just enough to leave a mark without drawing blood. You repeat after him, word for word, “I want you. I want you. I want you.” The “to leave” is silent. Nonexistent.

You’ve considered many times asking him to leave before things went too far but you never had the strength, or the sincere longing, to do so. Chan can do so much more than read your mind. He can read your body like one would their favorite book. He knows that if he rotates his fingers just…like…this, it’ll tug at the most sensitive parts of you, making your pussy weep.

Chan plants kisses along your jawline, trailing up to your ear. “I want you too. Not just now,” he confesses, “Forever.” It’s a simple word, “forever”, but the emphasis placed upon it speaks volumes of his feelings for you. “Me too,” you say, not even thinking, only feeling. “I can make it that way, you know. I could…” The implication breaks you free of whatever spell you’re under.

You twist out of his arms, pulling the blanket over your naked body more for comfort than anything else. “Chan, you can’t be serious.” There’s that glint in his eye again, only this time it’s all his doing, the idea of turning you exciting him more than his last kill. “Why can’t I be serious?” he asks, climbing on top of you, his arms caging you in, “Tell me you've never thought of it.”

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t and, under the circumstances, it’s not even worth it to attempt to lie. At one point you harbored such a thirst for life but somewhere along the way, in a place that you can’t quite pinpoint, you lost it. Everything became dreary. Repetitive. Monotonous. Life lacked excitement. It lacked color. Nothing made you feel truly alive anymore.

Then came Chan. The spark that reignited the flame. You often wonder what it might be like to have the freedom that he does. The power. To have access to things far beyond the reach of humans. But what he does to those people you could never bring yourself to do. Chan slips the covers from between you, reuniting his body with yours. Bringing your legs around his waist, he brushes the tip of his cock between your folds.

You grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. You’re still so wet. Maybe wetter. “You’ll never have to” he promises, “ I’ll do it. All of it. Feed you. Care for you. I just, fuck, I want you more than anything.” Chan bucks his hips, sinking into you. You hiss at the stretch, your back arching as your walls swallow him deeper. It’s only been 24 hours since he last made love to you but it’s felt like a lifetime.

You wanted him….needed him…so badly. Each stroke is more intense than the last, satiating your thirst for more pressure each time he bottoms out. Your moans are as close to heaven as he’ll ever be. He kisses you passionately, capturing them with his tongue. This is the best you’ve felt all day. It’s the best you ever feel. Being in his arms, his lips pressed to yours, is indeed something you can never imagine losing.

“Will it hurt?”

Chan shakes his head, biting his lip as you clench tighter. “Never…mmm…hurt you.” “Then do it” you mewl, eyelids fluttering, defenses crumbling. The bed creaks as his thrusts quicken, the legs of the mahogany bedframe scratching at the floor. 200 years of lovers and no one’s even come close to feeling this good wrapped around his cock. You’re so vulnerable, so trusting, so fucking beautiful that he can’t waste another second not having secured you as his. 

Baring his fangs, he sinks them into your neck. You gasp at the force of the impact but the bite itself merely tickles, undetectable when paired with the frenzy of butterflies in your stomach. Chan brings his wrist to his mouth, making a small incision with one of his fangs. Your lips part knowingly, suckling at the wound when he presents it to you. Blood coats your tongue, a crimson copper-laced treat running down your throat.

There’s something in it, something special, that strengthens the floral scent of your perfume. It’s overpowering. Dizzying. Everything’s louder. The cars zipping by on the streets. The sounds of grasshoppers and cicadas calling their mates in the neighboring park. Your vision sharpens, and corners of your room previously dominated by darkness are now bright as day.

And you feel. Oh, you feel everything. You’re in tune with every aspect of your nervous system. This level of awareness is mind-numbing but you don’t want it to stop. Your breath catches, your orgasm arriving with such ferocity that your nails slice into his skin. “That’s it” he coos, “You’re all mine now so come for me. Just for me.” He says it like you have an option.

Like there’s anything you can to do stop yourself from unraveling, the juices flowing from your core like a river. You scream louder than you ever have. The only discernible word is his name, said over and over until your body’s too spent to even say that. Chan kisses up and down your body, whispering to you in a language unknown to you before but somehow understood fluently now. 

He’s praising you. Worshipping you. Swearing to honor your bond forever. To him, you’ve always been breathtakingly beautiful, gifted with a body built for sin and curves to die for. It’s almost as if your maker crafted you with the express purpose of tempting him to corrupt your mortal soul. What a sweet thing it was to destroy.

[synthetickitsune]

Hello! I don't know if your requests are still open, but if they aren't just ignore this. May I request some romantic, fluffy & emotional content for Gwi (Scholar Who Walks The Night) with a human s/o who loves him deeply and is always gentle, caring and kind towards him? Like she genuinely respects him, and treats him with so much love? Cause look, I have theories about Gwi and affection. Namely that he was always treated like a beast and basically betrayed by his loves. But I think he is both touch starved and affection starved. Legit I feel like he'd melt for someone who gives him their heart sincerely, and sees him as a wise ancient being worthy of respect, rather than a monster to be destroyed.

PLEASE i could go on and on about my takes on gwi and affection and everything, he literally deserves so much more than he got </3 tbh i definitely will write more about this prompt because i want to give him at least some sort of happiness

Gwi (Scholar Who Walks the Night) | Affection fluff | 1k | (kind of implied) f!reader

Their voices join the water and blood dripping in the expanse of the cave, so do their faces, all of them just the background. If you were told they’re only another rock growth in the underground palace, you’d accept it without a second thought. So insignificant they were. Maybe not for the palace, for the grand scheme of things, but it’s always been easy to detach yourself from the world.

You’re not really looking at them, perhaps through them would be a better word. But when he speaks, your eyes surely find his profile and you pay attention. Most of what he says is mocking the humans standing before his throne. He’s sneering at them, taunting them. They can’t do anything about it. They can’t do anything to him. Everyone in the room knows it. So they come after the obvious easy prey.

“Gwi, isn’t it about time you got rid of the toy?” you know without looking at them that the official speaking is pointing at you. You’ve heard them mutter about him playing with his food before. And if you heard, he heard too.

“What toy?” the vampire asks, and you know that to them his voice is nothing but amused. But you don’t need his enhanced hearing to take precaution. When the backs of his fingers brush against your cheek, it must look to them like you’re motionless. You lean your body towards him just enough that he takes notice of your weight shifting on his lap. Just leaning into his touch isn’t enough. He’s a creature that deserves more respect than that. “Which one should I get rid of?”

If he only could look at both you and the subject before him, you know he would. Jealousy was never your strong suit. Even less so in the face of Gwi. Sometimes you’d get the feeling he doesn’t appreciate that. Other times you think he seems relieved. Either way, he was not for you, or any human, anyone, to own. You keep your eyes on him. The officials are predictable enough, all of them plotting, trying to figure out how to get their daughters involved, how to get closer to power. 

They sputter and back down as they always do. Trying their most to stay in Gwi’s good graces while crossing every boundary clearly set. It’s pathetic. And the vampire is as predictable as them, so you don’t flinch at all when the gentle caress turns into a death grip on your jaw while his fangs bury into the flesh of your neck.

They run away. Of course they do after the vampire’s mocking. They take it as a threat to their family, so you don’t blame them for closing their eyes and turning their back. It is a threat. Not a fully empty one either. But the officials and their petty palace drama and power struggle are irrelevant and definitely not the thing your mind wants to focus on as it grows fuzzy. Your body is getting weaker but you don’t panic. You hear your heart in your ears and it’s beating steadily.

“Your blood tastes so sweet,” his voice graces your ears, his bloodied lips gently pressing against your cheek not a second later, leaving a mark, “I never tasted anything like it. Is it because you’re not scared of me?”

It’s not the first time Gwi wonders aloud about your blood. Perhaps that truly is the reason, maybe panic ruins the blood, just like when hunters try to catch their prey unaware. It wasn’t always like this, and you entertain the thought of your will and desire overrunning even your instincts and biology. Your tongue feels like lead in your mouth, so you can’t respond and he doesn’t force you to. Instead he guides your head to rest against his shoulder, allows your body to lean on his.

You feel a sense of guilt for being so weak. You wish he could feed from you all the time, drink your blood until he’s sated. He’s tried that in the past. He kept feeding from you day after day - as a desert, he’d claim - kept feeding from you right until you were on the verge of death. The doctors barely saved you. You never asked how did it happen that you were nursed back to health. Then again, did you need to? It was about that time that you started noticing that the officials despised you.

“Should I get rid of you?” he muses, and yet his arm is wrapped around you so tenderly it’d make you sleepy with comfort if it wasn’t for your desire to listen to him, “Should I set you free?”

You don’t think he’s playing with you, but then again Gwi is unpredictable at the best of times. Either way, it’s all the same to you. Your answer would always be the same.

“I’d worship you still,” you whisper, gathering your strength only to be shushed by the vampire holding you. There’s a smirk on his lips. Proud. But it softens. He knows. He knows. And maybe that’s why you get to be held by him.

“Worship is not a word many would use,” he sounds amused, and you enjoy how freely he converses with you. Not too long ago he’d be much more guarded. He’d snarl at you, make you feel like he’ll attack any moment. It’s a little surprising he allowed you to stay alive. You meet his eyes with a questioning look that he answers with a curious smile before he shakes his head. So you stay quiet.

He picks you up and carries you to the space he made for you, where your bed is hidden away from sight. You know once you wake up there will be a meal waiting for you to get your energy back. He lays you down and covers you with a blanket. He strokes your hair, reassuring you that you’re allowed to rest now. 

And so you slowly, obediently, fall asleep.

[another-lost-mc]

Thinking about mc summoning the boys from their shadow. Like it stretches out either in front of them or behind them. Levi slowly surfacing from the shadow like it's water. Or Satan literally crawling his way out of it. Grasping at the edges and lifting himself up out of mc's shadow.

Also for Lucifer I feel like he'd just step outside of mc's shadow slowly, maybe parting it like a curtain. As for asmo I feel like he'd reach his hands out first (maybe to grab onto MC or Solomon) as he pulls himself out of their shadow. For mammon he'd rise up or maybe a bunch of crows would surround the shadow until he appeared in a flurry of feathers.

For belphie I feel like he'd slowly melt out of mc's shadow. Like a blanket that's covering him. As for beel I think it'd be funny if his accidentally hit his head on the edge of mc's shadow if they're shorter than him.

It's getting late and words are kind of failing me right now, but I had some ideas about this sort of thing that didn't make it in the other post! if I can spit them out I'll add them to it later. Lemme see.

Lucifer I kind of imagined appearing in like a gust of wind behind a flurry of black feathers. He's flying slightly, hovering just off the ground behind MC. Even though the shadow forms are dark and generally void of colour, his eyes and gloves are still noticeably red.

I didn't really picture anything special for Mammon, but since he's so fast I could almost see him spawning at MC's feet and then sprinting past whatever it is that raised MC's hackles. The demon or whoever turns around and there's Mammon, crouched low and grinning with his fangs on display before he pounces.

No lie, I almost see Levi's form slowly rising like the shadow is black inky water, like you said. And it's so dark and obscure he almost looks like a naga emerging from the shadow until he steps forward and his tail uncoils itself from around his body.

I like the idea of Satan crawling out of the shadow, and the wispy shape of his feathered boa and his tail curling around his body makes him look bestial and menacing.

For Asmo, I think the first thing you notice is a soft, condescending chuckle. It's distorted and deeper, like an old audio recording. The next thing you notice is a pair of hands trailing over MC's shoulders—or around their waist—as he slowly wraps his arms around them from behind. He pulls MC against his chest and hooks his chin over their shoulder, eyes flaring and mouth widening in deadly amusement while he assesses his target. (Even if they try to run away, it's too late.)

Beel I almost picture him leaping out of the shadow and then hovering higher off the ground while his wings flap rapidly behind him, and then he's like a comet plummeting to the ground when he goes in for the attack.

Belphie is so slow and lazy, I see his pulling itself up from the ground by grabbing at MC's clothes, and then he yawns and leans against MC's back. He summons the specter then nuzzles against MC's neck or shoulder while the thing just obliterates whatever the threat was. lol

[holybibly]

Okay but like. Hard thoughts of like. Why do I feel like wolf mingi would love fucking his little bunny dumb and making you cockwarm him and use you as greedily as he can when he gets the chance and teasing and praising and talking dirty to you. Also bunny and wolf mingi size difference just mmm

Our amazingly greedy boy, yes, he definitely wouldn't let that pretty bunny out of his clawed hands. Then let's make it hot, because Mingi's been hotter than hell lately.

"Do you like me fucking you, baby?" Mingi's whisper was sultry in your ear. His voice was deep and smooth, like the most amazing dark chocolate that melted on your tongue, and that was exactly what he had used to lure you back to his room. You had a terrible sweet tooth and just couldn't help yourself enjoy eating sweets, but Mingi, Mingi wanted to eat you.

"Yes, yes, I like it like this. It's so good; the bunny feels so good." You squeal and cling to the wolf's neck with your hands, pulling him closer to keep yourself on the ground. You're shivering all over in his arms, his expensive jewelry hanging from his neck, swaying with every move he makes.

Mingi is rapidly thrusting in and out of you, hammering so hard into your tight, wet pussy that you can almost feel his cock in the back of your throat. You were screaming and squealing loudly; your long ears were shaking, and your eyes were starting to well up with tears.

The air in the room was heavy and stuffy, full of the intoxicating aroma of chocolate and patchouli mixed with alpha pheromones, not as strong as Seonghwa's, but still making you dizzy. Your legs were draped over his broad, smooth shoulders and rested against your head, allowing him to kiss you freely from time to time, although the kiss felt more like Mingi was trying to drink your very soul out of your mouth.

"Oh my God! Alpha... please..." You cried out in a loud voice as he began to roll his luscious, meaty hips and fuck you in such a way that the head of his cock was constantly rubbing against your G-spot.

"That's right, baby, take my dick. I can see why Alpha can't get you off his dick; your pretty, sweet pussy is so heavenly. But you'll let me play with you too, won't you, bunny?" He growls deep into your ear as he continues his brutal assault, his wet, plump lips latching onto your scent gland and sucking it roughly into his mouth.

Your eyes start to roll back in your head, and the mucus literally pours out of you, splashing loudly as Mingi moves.

He had already cum twice, but he still wasn't satisfied; his knot hadn't even started to swell up properly yet. You came four times, and your legs were shaking, your voice was shrill and painful, and you were covered in a layer of sweat. Not to mention the fact that your pussy was full of his cum and your own slime, squelching loudly and disgustingly every time his balls slapped against your ass.

As you felt another orgasm coming on, you whimpered and moaned. You came a fifth time, squeezing his cock tightly with your soft, silky walls as he continued to thrust in and out. It began to feel like fire, so you screamed and begged for mercy. But Mingi grinned, licked his fanged teeth, and growled low. God, he made the sexiest sounds in the world; just the sound of his voice was enough to make you feel like a sinner.

"You can take it all, baby. You can do it. Don't you want to be a good bunny for me? Hell, just a little bit more, and I'll give you a break, all right? How about this? Fuck, whatever they give you, you little whore, just take it." He growled into your ear as he fucked your pussy faster and faster, his balls slapping harder and harder against your reddened ass.

With each brutal, deep thrust you whimpered, pain and pleasure coursing through your body. It felt as if you were going to come apart at the seams.

He groaned and pulled away from you for a second, making you sigh in relief until he flipped you onto your hands and knees, your cotton tail clenching instantly, and it's sending a shiver down your spine. He pushed your head back into the pillow, causing your bottom to arch and rise high into the air before he pushed you back down again. Holding on tightly to your hips and digging his claws into them, you squealed into the soft fabric of the pillow as he began to roughly fuck you into the mattress. Fuck, you were the most amazing thing in his life, and if Mingi could, he wouldn't let you go for a second, forcing you to ride his knot for days. He wouldn't mind you riding his face too, dripping honey slime into his mouth.

"I can't! It's too much for me." You sobbed into the pillow, clenching and unclenching your hands, and couldn't decide if you wanted the Alpha to stop or if you wanted him to keep going.

He pulled your head back roughly by the hair and began to thrust even more quickly into your sore, swollen pussy.  The stretch of his cock combined with the feel of his balls slapping against your swollen, sensitive clit had you squealing and shaking, your plump ponytail curling seductively, and maybe, just maybe, Mingi wanted to bite him.

"Fuck, baby, how come you are still so tight when Seonghwa and Hongjoong have been fucking you for days and days? You are such a good girl. The prettiest fuck toy. Do you like it when I fuck you so stupidly, sweetheart? Like me fucking you like an animal? He growled into your ear, his voice trembling slightly from the visible orgasm he was experiencing. "This is not your cute little glass dildo, baby; this is a real alpha cock."

You mumbled something incoherent in response. Whispering his name like a prayer, you felt your orgasm rising like a searing flame. That prayer was interrupted when the hand that was clutching your hair moved to your neck and grabbed you like an anchor, choking you from behind.

"I'm going to fuck some babies inside you. You'd like that. Wouldn't you? Would you like it if I were to pump you full of my cum and make you walk like this? God, you're going to look so bloated and full; it just makes me want to fuck you even more." Mingi purred in your ear, thrusting harder and slapping your ass a few times.

The combination of his voice and what he's saying makes you come so hard you can see the stars. You vaguely hear yourself screaming his name in a lustful moan. You dissolve into the silk sheets, dirty and sticky with all your cum and Mingi's, as your orgasm causes your soul to leave your body for a few seconds. You're shaking so hard you feel like you're going to convulse, clenching around his cock as he keeps pounding into you. He thrust into you a few more times before his cock had buried itself so deep inside you that he began to come, spurting his cum all over your cervix. He sighed and leaned over you, still cumming, and filled your pussy with his hot, thick cum, and you could finally feel how his knot began to swell.

You shuddered and let out a high-pitched moan as he began to thrust weakly into you once more, his cock coming out and entering your cunt with a loud, squelching sound. Droplets of his cum splash out of you and roll down the length of your thighs. You sob into the sheets as Mingi adjusts himself inside of you and finally pushes his knot all the way into your aching, flushed pussy.

"Here is a bunny, all plump and sweet; you have done so well for me." Mingi whispered tenderly as she planted kisses on the back of your neck and shoulders. It was such a contrast to the way he had literally torn your pussy apart with his dick just a few minutes before and fucked you so deeply and hard that you had practically lost consciousness.

His big, hot body was pressed against your back and vibrating a little, as if he were still close to orgasming, and wild energy was seething under his golden skin. This made you think a few thoughts.

"Mingi....are you finished?" You whispered in a frightened voice.

He chuckled against the back of your neck, lightly biting at the skin before immediately licking at it.

The sound of his voice was one of darkness wrapped in velvet, sweet and bitter at the same time, like the chocolate that you love so much.

"No, bunny, I have only just begun."

[heedodo]

I just wanna talk about The double

Leads are so gorgeous. Another day another slay in red for Xiao Heng and im a sucker for it. I literally can’t take my eyes off them, their chemistry is on point. Each scene just screams let me be yours, imprint you in my memory. I feel like my laptop is melting when both of them are on screen

SEX IN THE AAAAAAIRRRRRRR ! ! ! ! ! ! !

im waiting for this scene just to rewatch it about twenty times as im doing it with every other their scene

Oh and about the women of Jiang family, they’re just disgusting (father too tbh such a hypocrite) ! The two sisters and stepmother as well just make me sick. Wanted to dishonor the fl - failed and decided to frame her as if she wanted to dishonor her sister 🫤 i just cursed at my screen. I want them dead Oh i want them Suffer, reach the bottom and not see the light, to lose the reputation they care about and never ever dare to look up again.

As for the Shen Yurong i don’t pity him at all. Yes, he loved the fl and if he didn’t meet the princess or she would just ignore him they could’ve lived happily ever after but man just chose himself over his wife. He loved himself and didn’t wanna die so decided to kill her. Now he lives in a nightmare, princess literally playing with him, his life as she wants. For now i can’t imagine what Fang Fei will do, what her and xiao heng’s plans are but im eagerly waiting for the grand revenge!

[bepisbee]

cute short about the colors having the elements that the foursword kplus shadow has darkness)

He could feel it, through his heart pounding in his chest. Since the moment Shadow had touched him in the forest. When his arms draped around his shoulders, when he literally melted into him. He felt a deep ache in his core, his mantle of earth element, to reach out and touch back. Something seeded itself that day. He realized that Shadow wasn’t just some puppet, he was one of them. Vio was one of him. Shadow held an element.

Darkness.

He was sure now neither Vaati nor Gannon could have known. There was no way he would be breathing right now if they did.

He wasn’t sure when this fascination with connection turned into this soul binding need. Vio realized one night, watching him just be, he needed him. Deeply, irrevocably, he felt tethered. Shadow caught him staring then, meeting his eyes. For a moment he thought Shadow must be feeling the same tug. A longing in his expression before he covered it up with some commentary.

A deep sleepy groan took him from his thoughts. How had he even gotten back there? He looked as Shadow curled around him. He was napping peacefully on their tiny bed. Well, Link’s tiny bed. It was their turn with it versus a bed roll until their house was built in the east woods. Vio gently traced the scars on his face, similar to cracks of a mirror. Something in his chest settled with warmth. Approval from his element. He swears the damn things had minds of their own.

They very well might, if not just be mingled with Shadow’s consciousness. Combining their mantles had saved him after all. They were literally bound by magic. They each could feel when the other used it, and had a surprising amount of access to each other’s element.

Vio played with his fluffy purple locks, running fingers through, curling it around, combing it with his nails. Shadow made a contented sound and blearily looked up at him.

“Mmgh?”

“Hey,” he kissed his forehead. “Go back to sleep, you look comfy.”

“Iammm.” He buried his face into Vio’s tunic. “Always smell so good.” Shadow mumbled into him, “Like fresh wet dirt and deep forest trees.”

“I smell like dirt!?"

“Innaa good way.” Shadow huffs and scoots to be against his neck. “Makes me wanna…” He gives a playful bite, careful of his sharp fangs.

“Haa- hey careful! Watch the teeth.”

“Mm.” He was still half asleep and ended up sucking on the spot until it left a mark. Vio pulled him off.

“The others are gonna see that.” He chastised only half heartedly. He really wouldn't care except that they had all promised no funny business in the shared bed.

“Boohoo, they know we made out.” Shadow pouts. “We do that.” He bit the spot teasingly.

“W-we have a deal.” Vio squeaked out. He had to take a second to breathe, last time he let Shadow take the reins he lost control and accidentally covered Link’s house in vines and flowers on the outside. That was awkward to explain.

“Who says we’re doing anything on the bed?” Shadow looks at him devious. “I just wanna play and kiss you a little. And maybe grind you till you cum your pants.” He grinned.

“Shadow!” Vio shoved at him, scandalized. He laughed but just settled back against him. The rising shadows in the room shrank back into their normal shapes and sizes. He sweat a little at the spike between them.

“You are so easy to rile up Vi.” He was too comfortable and calm to really go through with that anyways. “I love seeing you flush for me. So cute,” He stuck his hand under his shirt, feeling him up. He rested it on his chest to feel his heart under his fingertips. It was running a bit fast. “Turn your brain off and nap with me. I’ll reward you later.”

“Hmmph. Fine.” Vio shifted until he was comfortable, an arm around Shadow’d waist. Little purple flowers in the window sill blossomed.

“Love you,” Shadow mumbled into his side.

“...” Vio sighed happily. “Love you too.”