#au: vocalization supernatural au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joannasteez · 7 months

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sing, just for me

pairing | roman reigns x black reader warning | explicit content, including descriptions of sex. minors please do not interact. if you count flirting as fluff then sure i guess, theres some of that. supernatural element, so yes, its an AU!!! word count | 5.8k ... quiet nights of quiet stars, quiet chords from my guitar, floating on the silence that surrounds us... lyrics in red (corcovado by stan getz and astrud gilberto)

the strum of a spanish guitar and a sweeping staccato, these quaint bristling eruptions that pulse the room to life with a softened awakening. long aged spirits and slow to sip lips. abstract mosaic tilings glimmering with the paling yellow of lowlights. and through lush rouge lips comes a haunting melody. a song of lovelessness, to stain his spirit with a sorrowed tenderness. easing his bones till he lulls into a deep surrendering. and his fingers prick with warmth, alive with a daring sort of desire to touch and embrace. to console. the gentle silk dressing your skin parting and draping over in reverence of the high slit at your thigh, seemingly for him. to have, to hold, to care for.

but isn't that what every man thinks? that your crooning is for them alone. that when the passion of the melody becomes too great and your fingers begin to roam, nails sharp but feathery and caressing about the air and your own skin, that it is them you're thinking of. and when you shudder, when you hiss, breathy and overcome, isn't it them you imagine? touching and pleasing till that wordless teeming desire is fulfilled? because the allure beyond the burning in their eyes scorches your skin, forcing a craving in your bones. such lustful men, bound by the sin of their own dreams, and the ego that makes them believe all this grace and flare is made pure for them alone. but how can they not think those things? how can he not think these things? when you go on about so sweetly, eyes flitting to theirs, to his. and here he's caught. rapturous and silently pleading that you never look away.

roman knows you, but not in the common way that a man knows a woman. not by name or by touch, or the familiarity that comes with soft spoken passions and loud terrible expressions. he knows your voice and your sultry little songs. and in some small, hidden, back alley lounge just on the pensacola panhandle, he comes nightly to hear you sing. just as the burn of the sun falls behind the horizon, till the early morning hours, where the sky pulls out from darkness into a paled blue.

he sips at his dark liquors, tucked partly in the shadows of ill lit corners, bathing in the light of your songs.

but even in his silence, he shares the depths of his appreciation. flowers to match the rouge of your lips, the petals tender to the touch and blooming prettily. and every other night, they appear, at the foot of your dressing room door, waiting to be swept up in the caress of your fingers. and just before every show, as the audience waits with bated breath for you to take the stage, he sends a shot of liquor your way.

"courtesy of your admirer. for your nerves", the young bartender gives after pouring. the short glass filled with whiskey.

and though your nerves cry from the bitterness of it, you take the taste in stride. feeling the warmth of it in your belly, just as high heels click toward center stage.

stringy flicks of guitar, short clicks of percussion and the gentleness of your vocals smoothen the air once again. an intimate warmth he won't get used to. days, after weeks of a far away admiration and here he is still, drawn in quickly by the mystic of a woman he'd never known.

but you thought of him too. of the whiskey he drank as his eyes lingered, and whether not the bitterness was as terrible in the glass as it was on his tongue. or maybe it didn't linger so heavily there, undone by warmth and the teasing slips it took over his teeth as your palms caressed over your hips. lips parted, singing wispy, slicing faint into the heavy silence of the room. and how could you sing about such a lovelessness, when his hands— fingers locked in with one another, long and heavy— trouble your imaginations as you go on raspy and impassioned. thinking of where they could roam and what they could do.

surely his ego would take to a bursting if he knew.

but it didn't.

the bristling staccato of the drumming brush rustles the air but your voice fades with the spanish guitar to make way for the brassy float of a saxophone.

and there he is, sipping his whiskey, lulled into the atmosphere.

your heels clicking over the floor, a surety laid in your bones. slipping easy onto the leather seating beside him. one leg crossed over the other, the high slit in your dress draping to reveal soft tempting skin. and his eyes take to you there leisurely, not overly greedy, but enough to indulge an obvious show of your own play of desire.

his eyes flit to your lips, the rouge color similar to blood. he wondered often, since his first time here, what they might taste like. the pull of them.

"enjoy the show?"

your voice, this slow slip of honey.

"it was nice", roman says simply. as if that pitch and tone hadn't stained his every roaming thought and daydream.

"for all my hard work i figured i'd get higher marks. with how enthralled you are, nice is just a little to plain for my taste", something like a pout forming your lips, not too deep less you have him believe you actually care.

"you have a beautiful voice".

his own. deep. rich. binding to your bones.

your fingers play with his pour of whiskey. the liquor swirling as your wrist twist the glass. the strength of it hitting your nose. "as beautiful as your taste in liquor, so i guess you hated it".

he grins, clutching the glass to finish his drink. body closer. the brown of his eyes clearer as he comes just under the dim casting down of the yellow lowlight. an arm stretching behind to lay against the top of the leather seat. becoming comfortable. 'thats good', you think. comfortable is good.

"you should know by how often i'm here that i enjoy you very much".

and there is a quiet here, among the soft sing of music. his eyes looking into yours and yours into his. a moment to allow the settling of words, once before a mere silent admiration, now formed whole with letters and persistence to bring about a more complete desire. it is, maybe an invitation. an open palm, waiting for assent, the soft embrace of the other.

"enjoy me more". you stand. reaching out to pull him with you. "no more flowers and hiding in the shadows. dance with me".

his touch is colder than your imaginings but kind all the same. scent warm and autumn inspired despite the swelter of the summer season. a sweet spice that lulls you closer. a soft slow swaying together, intimate in it's own silence. and beneath stylish expensive feeling fabrics, you can sense the strength of him. lips lined soft and kissable, tempting. and his eyes from here, where you press into and sway with his embrace, are familiar. intense and consuming. a thorough take to your own eyes, as if to remember the little things. the shape of your lips, and the brown apples of your cheeks. the coy look up from under fanning lashes. an easy trailing over him, to note and remember in your own way.

"your songs", he starts.

you hum. "what about them?"

"they have a... somberness to them".

he leads your body gently behind a floor to ceiling oak pillar, done up with abstract relief carvings. a corner all to yourselves. you feel his hand maneuver, trailing to a less innocent placement. fingers long as they spread and sweep along the spine, pulling in till you flush softly to him.

you make no struggle to stop him, to pull away. you lean in even.

"i sing what i know".

the intensity of him breaks with a softening. "have you never been in love? has no one ever made you feel love in that way?"

"if they have, i don't remember".

pain corrals in him. spills over into his chest and his words. makes the utterance thereof small and aching. "thats a shame".

"is it?", thinking over what possible shame could come from something never had. "seems burdening to me. i have bills, i have enough things to cry over".

"things? you mean love?"

the way you speak so flimsily about it. is there really nothing of your memory? nothing of before?

"better to have never loved, than to love and have lost".

he smiles. "i don't think that's how the poem goes".

"ooohhhh", you tease. "he's well read".

he spins you. slips his embrace under your arm so that his hand meets the other at your lower back, at that less than innocent placement.

you take the time to breathe him in again, to smoothen your touch over the ways of his arms till they join lazy about his shoulders. nails roaming his nape in such a teasing fashion that it shivers his already cold skin. he's closer here, just enough to share his breaths. to see the freckles in his cheeks.

"he, is roman".

spine throbbing as his thumbs caress. his name slipping over your skin till its beneath and staining. and the spill of the saxophone is melodic. pleasant and soothing as he watches the rouge of your lips part. you tell him your name.

"we're on a first name basis now".

"we are".

the rumblings under the softness of his voice is divine. disrupts your skin till the hairs stand and nerves rush. memory washed with a familiarity you can't place.

his tongue peaks to slip over his lips. "can i ask you to do something for me?"

"what?"

his cheek presses to yours. and you feel the beginnings of a trembling. something ancient and belonging set into your bones.

"sing quietly. just for me".

mirth slips into your lips. the skin of your cheek rubbing against the hairs of his. lips breathy and teasing at his ear. "personal performances are expensive".

"i'm worth my weight in whatever way that pays you".

and even the angels, in all their majesty, can not delight nor arrest him so sweetly. with such a devastating gentleness of spirit. for the heaven in them, could not possibly do well to understand the haunting of this solemn summer song. a wispy falsetto, and the plucking of that spanish guitar once more. a soft sweeping melody into his ear. here, the sing of your voice is the tenderness of roses, having died once and remembering the pain of such a silent wilting, rising in spite from the earth again to bloom beautiful but with a familiar weariness. roman lulls, eerily surrendering, with the ease of a taken sailor by the song of the sea.

his touch is an endearing press into your body. no more of that idleness as they curl. dull and gripping into silk covered skin.

his eyes shine. taken. raptured.

your foreheads touch fondly. your nails still doing well to caress his nape. something like nostalgia corrals in your belly. in the rushing of your blood. his touch new but old.

his breath on your lips. close and sweeping against your face. his nose plays into the soft of yours. this finding of intimacy easy, as if it has existed before.

he hums. hearing the echoing of your singing still.

"so much like a siren".

"they're killers". your nails sharp with a slow sinking into his skin. enough the prick. to have him feel the possibility of pain. "of men specifically".

his own fingers curl inward again. endeared to your warmth. "i guess i'd be susceptible then".

you smile. thumbs running from his neck to the work of his jaw, where the hair is thick and bristling, till you find your self soothing over his freckles. his own touch soothing just the same into the line of your spine. his lips planting into your palm. into your wrist, lingering to feel the pulse of your blood against his mouth.

"you're too warm", kissing your wrist once more. "too welcoming to be so cruel", he says. as if he knows you well enough to know such things.

"and what if that's the act before the inevitable?" you gaze flickering up through your lashes. touch slipping again, along his neck, thumb over the apple of his throat. palms coming down to hold at his arms. feeling the thickness of them beneath his clothes. you smile. "i sink my teeth into you before ripping you apart".

the music is light. eases your bodies into a swaying still. alone together in this little corner of the lounge. of the world.

"you make it sound like a good time".

"depends on what you're into i guess".

"you seem to like to play with your food".

your lips grow closer. the seam of them faint and teasing against his. sharing breaths and the thinning control to not act so suddenly on long built desires.

"a bit of patience makes for a better savoring".

he grins. wide and daring. "i just like to go for what's mine".

"whats yours?", you laugh. so typical. you play an eye roll. "who knew men could be so possessive".

he lips take their own gentle trailing. from near your mouth to the supple skin of your cheeks, steady and light, soft at your jaw till they go about your neck. the tip of his nose pressing into your pulse. fingers deepening into your back, urging an arch into your spine as you cling to him gladly.

your blood thrums harshly. thrilled. he hums, licking his lips, and the slight of his tongue wets your skin. and there he is warm, that much you can feel.

"as possessive as the day is long. you're not wrong about that".

"but it's night time now".

he kisses your pulse. the touch of his mouth sweet. stirring. the mantle in your belly burns.

"that's when the pursuit is sweetest".

he spins you again and you take the time to breathe. to gather the restlessness in your body that longs for him to do something undoubtedly amorous. and that same hope dances in him, plays about his nerves and the set of his eyes.

"where do i know you from?", too troubled by the possibility to ignore it.

"nowhere".

"then why is your face so familiar?"

he grins. "you wouldn't believe how many women have stopped me to tell me the same thing. maybe i just have that face".

'bullshit', you think. the idea laughable. "you're too handsome to be familiar. maybe it's just them easing their way into trying to fuck you. compliments and a sense of familiarity go a long way".

his forehead rests to yours, his throat humming. mulling over your words. guiding your hips through the melody still.

and when he speaks, the lewd make of his words stick to your lips.

"do you want to fuck me, angel?"

your breath hitches. lightly trembling again in his arms. in the tightening bind of his fingers. your blood sweetening in his nose, like the first drips of honey.

"is it not obvious enough? do you have to ask?"

and no he does not make you suffer. does not force the words off your lips, to soothe the width of his ego. it would only sour the warmth in his hands, for a woman such as yourself should not beg. should not reel with an exposing desperation, even amidst the shadows of such ill lit corners. she should be taken as she so coyly wishes, with firm sweeping tongue and the powered grip of an impassioned lover. and roman had no qualms of doing such, of kissing you greedily and forming your body to his. of curling his hands to bruise the silk of your dress, fabric crushing in his fingers till the high slit ran into his palm, leaving your skin bare. whiskey on his tongue, slipping lewd, with much method, to leave you drunk off the wet roaming of it as he buried into your skin else where.

your back roughs into the oak pillar, carvings kneading into you. the brush drum steady, louder, accompanied by the bright trill of a piano.

roman moans into your mouth. light and deep. breathing tensely through his nose. your hands take his, searching over skin to guide him. the heat nestled between your thighs coaxing his tongue to lick into your mouth.

he smiles. your breaths rushed and ragged. a lone finger taking a simple glide till he slips through your slit. and the silk of your heat is something memorable. a soft warmth he's known once before. groaning, mouth open to breathe into you till he's ruffling into your neck.

your hands cling to him and your hips chase him. whimpers singing from your throat.

"you'll have to forgive me, but i need you quiet", he gives. feeding the long tease of his touch pass the tight ring of resistance, till he's seated deeply. steeping his finger till satisfaction bruises his nerves. he wonders, after having you tremble again under him, if he'd ever be satisfied. "charge it to my own possessiveness, but i can't have them hear you. hear how pretty you sound".

he retracts, to join in another finger. a thicker stretching that leaves you to struggle against the breaking of a moan. your face hot and damp. the air thick and his mouth at your pulse urging your blood to rush, as if it knew it was him nestled against it.

"okay?"

he strokes wet, firm feeling and slow. a patient working in that reverences the wild throbbing you take to it. an uncontrolled, mindless pulsing about his fingers.

"need you to answer me when i speak to you".

and his voice grows dark. controlled but undefiled still in the depth it holds to. it sinks into your flesh, commands your lungs to breathe, for words to form. shy and pliant. "okay".

he moans again, licks into your skin, savoring the salted taste of sweat. and his touch feeds into you, roams into a roughness, the staccato of the brush drum blending seamless with the arousal coating his fingers. a sticky, pitchy mess singing lewd from your pussy as you struggle not to curse brightly into the thick air. but he makes it nearly impossible to breathe, to collect even the smallest sense of control. and his pleasure works over your body in familiar ways, remembrance sullying your bones till they surrender from some odd far away sense of knowing. as if all the skin and bones and nerves that make you have found something long lost, teeming with joy at such a faithful reunion.

his lips pull into yours once more. your fingers holding over his face, keeping him there, to suffocate under his tongue. a sweet sweeping in, lapping lazy over yours in his own delirium. you suckle over the whiskey taste, thumbing into his cheeks.

your core tightens. a salacious warning. burdening and hot as his thumb joins in to push against your clit.

your forehead knocks gently into his cheek. nails sinking into his thick neck. unable to speak by his request but so desperately needing to express the weight nailing over your nerves.

the tension, unreleased, builds over. pricks your eyes with a glassiness. you tremble still. "roman please", wispy and small.

his skin delighting with the brush of your breath. desperations of pleasure bleeding into his skin. the ache and the burden of your arousal seeping hot over his fingers. clutching onto the thick of them. needy and mindless.

his eyes meet yours. breaths stuttered and words ill formed as the heat of his staring pierces. flecks of red revealing before their disappearance. your mind too muddled by pleasure to care.

"have at it", he whispers. thumb rolling over your clit as he deepens the ways of his fingers. "it's yours".

your mouth presses into his shoulder, to muffle the cry that comes with that wild bursting heat. the pulsing in your skin and the heaviness in your chest. fighting for air as his mouth sweeps to kiss over your lips. fingers reveling in the messiness of your release. playing through your slit, soothing over your clit till he pinches the pearled nub, wringing out the remains of arousal. your hips rutting to chase the sensation, insatiable and wanting still.

you whisper to him, rushing and grinding your hips still. "i'm renting upstairs. s'not too big, but it's not bad, if you-if you wanted to come up-"

"lead the way".

and not much goes into the song and dance, of feigning interest about egg shell white apartment walls, and the color of your furniture. or how your place is just a greater carrier of the way your skin smells. comfortingly sweet and all consuming. his eyes not minding the antique lamps and neither does he care too much for the stacks of books and large hung up paintings. because he remembers these things quite clearly —your knack for artistry and your mind for words in books— of the woman he knew before you, the one with a different name but, her, your face all the same. the innocence of your forgetfulness twinging where his heart used to be. because how could he be angry, at the things you fail to remember, when now the peace upon you rests so dearly. years of waring with himself about ancient decisions long forgotten, as he spreads his tongue through the swollen slick parting of your folds. enraptured still, after all this time, by how your taste coats his tongue. arresting even the sharpest parts of him.

the lay of your body picturesque along the kitchen island counter. and the marble top is not nearly as cold as his skin, but it shivers you all the same. late night, early morning, summer breeze willowing over you.

the drawling alto of your moaning much different from earlier. something rawer and less refined but angelic all the same. a blend of feathering whimpers and ill controlled swearing, ravishing his ears. coaxing them to burn red as they rest between the heat of your thighs. and when he dips over the swollen nub of your clit, lips kissing messily, his eyes take to the curves of your skin. supple plans of warmth that leave him aching.

your mouth opens lax, devastated by pleasure. fingers twisting against the hard peaks of your nipples. rutting up against his wet mouth for more of his good torture. his tongue invasive and exacting. thick and stroking against the lush opening of your body. and your moving is mindless, driven by blood lacing lust. the ball of your foot hooking into the broad muscles of his naked back as the other aches idle under the weight of his fingers. pushing into him, holding him hostage.

the soft sweat dampened slope of your back arching. fingers curling into the edges of the kitchen island. "you're so damn greedy for it", toughing out of your mouth. words cutting through short breaths.

he moans. dipping his fingers where his tongue had been. eyes casting over the swell of your breast, where your breaths shudder outward. delirium overtaking, slowly, steadily, dulling your eyes and the manner of your nerves. his thumb finding your clit with ease. pressing firm. "can't be a bad thing, not when you're shakin and tightenin up for me like this".

your head rolls straight, to find his eyes dilated. near black even. "you like it".

"no, angel", that delicate term returning to wreck havoc over your skin. "i love it". his lips pursing as he gathers a sticky line of spit, letting it drip to your clit. a man possessed, watching you pulse about his fingers. "real sensitive to my touch". and the kiss he leaves along the mess of your folds is terribly gentle. something like a gift. lips pursing, sweeping with tongue, as if he were taking in your mouth. and there he stayed for sometime, tonguing over the swollen bundle of nerves, nailing into your thighs, and breathing in the essence of your warmth. "y'sound so sweet when i have my tongue on you", going on like a man long starved of touch, passion unsullied by time. and when he parts, mouth and the bristling hair of his beard soaked over, the groaning that draws up from his chest proves to be uninhibited, a bout of impatience slipping in his blood to poison his resolve.

his vision fights for sharpness, for control over more primal urges. "wanna hear you when i make you come".

you smile. overdone with pleasure. "so many request".

"request can be denied". his tongue laps lazily, in a means to savor, and he moans till it shakes into laughter. amusement coursing him as your thighs flex in attempt to close against him. "you have yet to deny me".

and his truths are proven. the spasm seizing your nerves and the drool pooling from your pussy enough to satisfy the surety of his words. the lithe forming together of a speechless pleasure breaking from your throat like feathered little songs. an ensemble of gasping and whimpering brighter than the day sky. and when you fight for air, to reel in the overtaking frenzy, the coarseness there in your throat rumbles beneath your skin, till its a deep resonance slipping into his ears, daring to drip into his blood. an everlasting poison.

a siren indeed.

roman plants kisses into your skin, a slow trailing up towards your navel. face planted into the heat of your belly. the scent of your arousal, a sweetened ambrosia. his chilling hands roaming over the aching in your thighs till their kneading reaches your hips. your numbed fingers run into the roots of his hair, circling over his scalp tenderly.

"c'mere".

you sigh. blissed and pliant. legs and arms shakily wrapping over him till they cling for fear of letting go. your nose tucked into the thick of his neck as he carries you to the soft leather couch.

and he just barely overtakes the quaint little furniture, nestling into its corner to spread his leg out as the other bends to hang over comfortably.

you waste no time. lips molding over his dewy ones, your taste steeping into your tongue as you suckle over his. nimble fingers undoing his pants till his cock is heavy and hard in your palm. his dull nails threatening to bruise your hips as he flushes your pussy over him. breathes undone and stuttering, mindlessly working your still swollen clit over the thick of him. tip pink and aching for something more than the tease of your folds. and a nostalgia takes to his bones, a similarity of passion paining him, memory this boundless flooding. the sinking in of your nails as you kiss his mouth and the heat of your skin, clinging to him for fear of losing him, all too agonizingly familiar. he can feel it beneath his toes, amongst the sensations of bliss, the sand of summer beaches and with the burning at the tips of his ears a bright bursting laughter. far away memory comes to him here, flowing along a breeze.

a fist takes to his stiffness, the other hand holding up your hips. your lips trembling, one against the other. sharing thick intimate breaths. and amongst the late night silence, he stretches you delicately. a leisure, deft upstroke that waits with patience to feel your warmth. a steady handling of your hips as you attempt to settle him in.

your jaw opens lax, gasping as the knocking out of wind leaves your words broken.

"shhhhh", mouth pursing into yours. kissing into your cheek. once and then twice. his hips winding up into you. and the racing of your heart echoes in his ears, forces his tongue into a craving. your blood sweet in his nose still. "take me slowly", palms working your hips to grind into him again. spine throbbing, dazed even as your throat sings with little pleasures, heavy breathed and delirious. "relax into me", a soft command that overtakes the stiffness in your body, coaxing you to settle, molding into the thick mass of him. nearly impossible to tell the beginnings and endings of your bodies. "breathe". and your lungs open, the headiness of him delighting your nose.

and the tenderness here is similar to gentle rain. the light kissing of lips and the working in of pliant fingers, caressing soft blissed skin. your heart beating with vigor against his chest, strong enough that it feels as though one exist within himself, pulsing about and filling him with life.

his sharp teeth pull at your bottom lip, edging there just enough for a shiver and a moan. for the quick thoughtless rutting of your hips, squeezing against his cock, steeping him in a wet heat that left a terrible aching in his balls. he wanted to fuck you madly, suffer you to take him in his fullness till neither word nor thought could ever exist long enough to leave you. he wanted to consume you, enough that you would not forget him again. but this intimate savoring was too rich for him to just abandon on the account of wanting to run your pussy ragged. he could possibly do that another time, if you would have him. if you would cradle his head like you do now, letting his tongue lead over your skin till it prodded and sucked over your nipples. growing greedy, palming your breast to adore the sensitive skin. if you would have him, he would treat you with his urges, charm your body with anything you wanted.

your clit pulses, urges a grinding to knock softly against his hard body. and the insatiable need teeming in your blood is nearly unbelievable. never having felt so wanton and filled with desire.

his lips gentle still and unchallenging as they meet yours again. unhurried but sure. like he'd kissed you a thousand times.

your eyes flutter open. forehead resting against his. and when the earthy brown of his stare burns into you, the familiarity of him burdens your spirit so. a deep, undefiled pressure that flutters your heart.

the grainy sand of a summer beach and bright bursting laughter.

your thumb caresses the freckles at his cheeks. "i know your face". thumbing over his mouth. "your tongue. your hands. your eyes".

he sinks further into the couch, lets his head rest against the arm of it. pulls you into him. "where from?"

his inky hair, long undone in the midst of passion, falling about him. his gentle kissing mouth and his hands. his penchant for whiskey drinking and the unforgettable way he feels, filled to the hilt.

"from dreams".

he hums, indulging the thought. collects your hips with a covetous touch. torturing the dulling ache in your clit to flare with a renewed sense of life, fingers curling in to work your pussy over him, stroking up to meet you with a tenderness that reddens his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

his words a gruff escaping.

"how can you dream about a man you don't know?"

the drool of your heat coats him with its own spirit of endearment. dribbles out till its slicking over the tuft of hair just where you meet him. your teeth taking to your lips, a feverish excitement lacing your pleasure still, beautifully undone, and becoming undone still at the splitting stretch of his dick. you slur even in your delirium, assailing the leather of your couch's arm as you bounce against him. knees bent and thighs aching, but still, he opens you fully, feeds into you like he belongs there.

you stitch words together drunkenly.

"how can you... how can you kiss a woman, fuckk!..kiss her so lovingly, when you've never met her". your teeth clench. touch playing over the dampness of your skin. a taut nipple caught over your thumb, encouraging the pulsing warmth that greedily clings to him. "why would you want to do that?"

and if he had a heartbeat, it would burst with a raging. leave a vicious pounding into the ways of his pulse at the utterance of such a question. if only you knew.

"your dreams are just desires. they'll pass".

"and when they don't?"

you fight. for answers that don't leave a bitterness on your tongue. for his touch to become this great staining. a deep enough stitching beneath flesh and bone.

"they will".

you voice small. near fearful. "i don't believe you".

roman corrals you. faster than the air can refill your lungs from such an abrupt shifting. laying under him, heavy breathed and trembling, your shoulder blades resting over the arm of the couch. his eyes splitting into your skin, roaming, as always, as if to remember for the sake of forgetting, this soft surgical tearing through till you can feel the influence of him. a stuttering in your heart. fear and excitement one and the same. and when his cock ruts, slipping in wet and nearly unforgiving, you gasp into still thick air. his body hard and fluid, hips working deft, tongue running over the ways of his teeth.

his palms form over your thighs, pressing in to curl at the pliant flesh.

his heavy breaths take in the scent of you. sticky arousal and the tempting sweetness of your blood. he groans, fucks into your pussy with a toppling desperation.

his hair falls over him. raven colored and silky. his stitching together of words slurring. pleasure mounting his bones. taken by the dripping clutch you've suffered him to endure. but he's taken freely. gladly even.

"what do you want?".

his eyes glazing over. and you reach to nail your fingers over him. over taut tough muscle. a harsh prickling that feels delicious in his skin.

roman feels alive. like he could do anything. could give you anything.

thrill in your eyes and the heat in your skin, moaning beautiful, and if not for his deadness, it would surely be fatal. your lips now rouge-less, but addictive all the same. he wants to consume you.

"you". nothing more sure could ever be said. "i want you".

he grows faint in his control. words near a whisper.

"you don't know what you're asking for".

a breeze indulges the room. cuts into the thick air.

"please".

your body seizes. bursts hot and wild. and here he growls, dark and unbound from control.

red flecks spot his eyes, his breath oddly warm as he lowers his lips to kiss yours. tongue sweeping in, rough and rolling over.

your body preens, hitching and pulsing still. his nose nestling into where he can feel the beating of blood along your neck.

you sigh. content. arching your body into the weight of him.

a paining tear into your skin. sharp teeth into delicate supple flesh. blood slips over onto already tainted leather and the wide flat licking of his tongue. he moans, drunk, weighted against the abrupt shock of your body. drinking in the fast drip of red as he comes undone.

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fic #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns smut #very very very slight supernatural elements #joannasteez

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sanjoongie · 7 months

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𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝔼𝕝𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟: 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕒

🥀Pairing: Song Mingi x Reader (f) 🥀Genre: Smut 🥀Rating: 18+, Minors Do not Interact 🥀Au: incubus, modern supernatural 🥀Trope: friends with benefits 🥀Summary: you make an agreement with your incubus friend that he can feed on you, if only while you're sleeping 🥀Kinks: somnophilia, oral, 69, overstim, penetrative sex without a barrier, tit fucking, colored cum, bukake 🥀Word Count: 1,545 🥀Betas: @mejuii

🥀Day Ten: Hate Fucking🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Twelve: Mommy Kink

“Good evening, Sweetheart.”

Mingi knew you were asleep, in fact, that was the deal. Mingi was your friend. He had been looking peaky lately and you had innocently asked him if he had been feeding lately. As an incubus, he needed to consistently feed on lust if he was going to survive in the world of the mortals and not slip back into hell.

Mingi had admitted with a shrug that he hadn't been appetized as of late. So, as a favor, you told him he could feed from you. The deal was, as long as it didn’t actually interrupt your sleep, he had the go ahead. So that ixnayed any plans of sneaking into your dreams and consuming from you in that way. You didn’t want to wake up and be drained the next morning. So Mingi would appear in the early morning hours and play with your body while you slept. He could build up all the lust within your body and then consume it, without simply feeding from your body’s energy while you slept. All you had to do was take a few sleeping pills to ensure you didn’t wake up and it was a done deal.

His baggy jeans hung low on his hips, chains across his chest and many metal rings donning his hands. He was smoking a cigarette made only for demons. If you had been awake, you absolutely would have admitted that this Mingi was a wet dream. Instead, you were asleep and alas, the fit was for Mingi’s own boost of ego. He preferred to know he was fucking you knowing that he looked good.

Mingi crawled up the bed and slowly pulled your sheets down your body to reveal what you were wearing for him tonight. When he saw the crisscross lingerie that were held together with a net one piece that covered your entire body, he groaned and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. This is what he was talking about when he wanted food that appealed to him. You were dressed for him to fuck you and he was already licking his lips.

The first thing he did was crouch between your legs and bury his face into your pussy. He inhaled your scent and groaned again, sending the vibrations straight to your core. You whimpered in your sleep and Mingi smirked to himself. You were a vocal lover even in your sleep. Mingi was starting to think he should have told you a long time ago that he had been starving. Maybe you would have given your body to him faster.

He licked your pussy through your underwear, nose nudging your clit, teasing and tempting your body to get wet and ready for him. He ripped the fishnets across your cunt, sucked on his thumb and then started to tease your hole while he rubbed circles on your clit. Within a few minutes you were wet enough for him but wasn’t quite done with his appetizer.

He moved his body 180 degrees, so that he could keep his mouth on your cunt but pushed down his jeans enough so he could slip his dick into your mouth. Carefully, he humped your face, all the while sucking on your clit. Your mouth was warm and wet for him. He suckled your cunt while he fucked your face and it prepped the both of you.

You came quietly, your thighs shaking and your cute noises while his cock was pressing your tongue down and Mingi had a hard time not just fucking your mouth to reach his own orgasm. Instead, Mingi drank in your orgasm, your appetizer preparing him for the main course.

Mingi pulled out of your mouth and turned again. He turned you onto your face, gently wiping the spit and his precum from your face before maneuvering you face down, ass up so he could fuck you. He gripped your hips and eased himself into you. Combined with your spit on his cock and your wetness from your orgasm, it was easy to slip in. You whimpered at the intrusion and he had to close his eyes and talk himself into not jackhammering his hips against your ass.

“Come on, Sweetheart, why do you gotta sound so fucking cute for me?” Mingi muttered to himself.

Mingi’s hands fluttered around your ass, taking a moment to appreciate the body you were volunteering up to him and then rocked his hips against you. There were small noises coming from the back of your throat and it was doing something to him. The way your body loved getting fucked by him while you slept really made him feel some type of way. You may be good friends when you were awake, but he was really starting to believe that you were born to be his lover.

Mingi’s chains began to jingle against his chest as he found a rhythm. He allowed himself to groan slightly, digging his teeth into his bottom lip. You would stay asleep despite him fucking you good but the illusion that he was doing something taboo wasn’t wasted on him.

Did you wonder at the bruises when you woke up and try to picture what he did to you the previous night. Did you find his teeth marks on your shoulder when he tried to keep quiet just in case you forgot to take your pills? Did you feel the delicious ache in your cunt when you woke up and smile at the fact that you had been fucked good the night before? Mingi wanted all the answers but he didn’t dare disturb the agreement between you two.

So he continued to have beers with you every Thursday night you had off and watched with a smug expression as you turned down most men that threw themselves at you. For what reason did you need to have a one night stand when Mingi was fulfilling all your desires?

Your ass jiggled against his hips as he fucked you and he resisted the urge to want to slap your ass, in case that was the trigger that woke you up. All he allowed himself was to squeeze your ass and hips, rings digging into your soft flesh, your ass cheeks squeezing through the gaps of his fingers wonderfully.

Mingi had started to read the signs that you were getting ready for him. You would clench around him and your whimpers and whines would actually begin to speed up. Mingi found himself sucking on a finger again, pressing on your clit again. You gasped as your already abused clit was stimulated again, but he was just doing what was preapproved between the two of you.

Mingi’s body was almost comically curled around yours, hips working themselves against you until you came for him. He slowly fucked you through your first orgasm and ate his dinner. He drank in the feeling of your pussy walls fluttering around you. He drank from the the overstim of his finger on your clit, making you whimper and pull away, effectively fucking backwards on his cock even more. He ate it all up and yet still he wasn’t full. Now it was time for dessert.

Mingi turned you around on your back. You had cooly informed Mingi that he better not finish inside of you but he was lowkey into coming onto your skin anyways. So he removed his jeans carefully, and was only in his tank top and jewelry now.

Mingi straddled your chest, ringed hands pushing your tits together so he could fuck your breasts. His thumb would caress your nipples absentmindedly as he thrusted between your boobs. Sometimes he would imagine that your eye makeup was streaked and running down your face while you held your tongue out to catch the tip of his dick against your tongue but he didn’t dare ask you to sacrifice some of your sleep time to satisfy that fantasy.

It wasn’t long before Mingi was groaning deeply, nose scrunched up as he came all over your face and his cock spurted some cum on your chest, to pool there in your cleavage. Your skin looked so lovely with the dark cum that belonged to an incubus. Mingi even played with the idea of bringing you some of the dark gems that grew in hell, just to mimic the dark pearl necklace he gave to you most nights.

Mingi leaned down to bestow a kiss on your forehead and got up to clean you up. He even changed you into more comfortable clothing just so you knew that he had been around. It was a small thank you for letting him feed on you.

Mingi put his jeans back on, putting a foot in each hole of the legs. “Why you gotta look so fucking cute cuddled up after I fucked you good?” Mingi continued to spew questions in the air.

Mingi didn’t know when this agreement was going to stop. Maybe you’d find a guy and not want this to continue. It’s not like he could come and fuck you if you were sleeping beside someone else. But perhaps he could convince you that he was that guy. He just needed a little bit of time.

🥀Day Ten: Hate Fucking🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Twelve: Mommy Kink

#joongfryefff24 #kvanity #kwritersworldnet #pirateeznet #cultofdionysusnet #mfu-net #song mingi smut #mingi smut #song mingi x reader #ateez smut #atz smut #topaz's work #ღatz

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chimcess · 8 months

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Afterglow || jhs

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Other tags: Vampire!Hoseok, Vampire!Reader Genre: Supernatural!AU, Vampire!AU, Twilight Universe, established relationship, fluff, smut, pwp Word Count: 4.5k+ Synopsis: "A loud crack of lighting boomed in the distance followed by a low rumbling. The storm was here. My love was not. I kept watching and waiting." Warnings: Character death (brief), mental illness (not reader and very brief), penetrative sex, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, lots of licking, kisses, slow and deep, Hoseok is a vocal boy, they are so in love, edging, over stimulation, hair pulling, man handling, growling, body worship, breast worship, unprotected sex (stay safe), vampire/animal sounds, implied outdoor sex, they are honestly so freaking cute, let me know if I missed anything A/N: So, I recently rewatched the entire Twilight Saga and couldn't stop myself. I promise they have nothing to do with the Cullens. I'm simply borrowing S.Meyer's universe for a second. Thanks for reading.

Staring out of the second story window, I frowned. There was a thunderstorm on its way and the wind was harsh. Still, I stayed put. I would not move until I knew he was coming back.

The first few droplets that landed against my cheeks were freezing and as the rain started coming down, I got soaked. There had been a window here once but after a rather unfortunate night, one where mama had shouted and threw a candlestick holder at my head, the glass was all but gone. Only one singular piece along the very bottom of the trim remained.

She was dead now, well, as dead as I believed her to be. Daddy, too. Only I remained. The house had been suffocating at first, my body unable to handle the loneliness. My memories of the attack were weak and dimly lit, but I could never forget the moment the burn began. I will never forget what led up to it.

At the ripe age of nineteen, my father was planning to marry me off to a local boy called Percival Hobbs. Mr.Hobbs was a fine gentleman, his sensibilities and wit uncharacteristically gentle and kind for a man of the era. We were both middle classes, his family only slightly richer than my own, and well matched. I was happy to be marrying him, especially when he told me his plans of expanding his father’s business out of Virginia. I hated this place back then; I could recall that fairly well despite the thick film which covered my old life.

My mother was an unusual woman of which I had gotten my own set of quirks. When I was young, I could remember her singing as she cooked, weaving flowers through her greasy hair as she doted on my father as if he were a king. We never went without, and her joy was contagious. My mother, for all intents and purposes, was a happy person. Perhaps a bit odd, she was more outspoken and considered rather rude to the other women in Richmond, but no one could truly say anything bad about her.

It was only after a particularly nasty accident that her behavior changed. We were on our way to visit her sister in Norfolk when our horses were startled by something out in the woods. Our carriage took a fall and my mother hit her head on a rock. We were all lucky to have survived the ordeal, something my father praised God for, but mama was never the same. She never smiled, hardly spoke, and could never find the melodies of the songs she had loved so dearly. It was as though a switch had been flipped and the light within her was turned off.

Daddy was nervous, as was I, but childish worries and adult sorrow were different. I believed she was sad, but my father knew she would never return back to normal. His work became more demanding after that. As a lawyer, my father was held in high regard at the time and worked long days and nights in order to provide for the three of us. They never bore another child. I believe it was because my mother could no longer stand to be touched and my father could never hurt her, even if it broke his heart.

Years passed that way until a sudden change began to occur. No longer was she silent, but the songs she sang were very different. Her eyes were more alive than they had been in a long, long time, and her voice had come back. The joy of this was short lived, however, as her delusions started soon after. Men who were not really men, monsters who could love, and things that would reflect like diamonds in the sunlight. All of it rubbish, all of it insane, but all of it real in her fragmented mind.

Daddy was planning on getting her committed after she said there were people living in the walls of our home. He might have killed her for declaring her love for a man who shined in the sun if he had not believed her to be completely psychotic. All the while I watched as the woman I held dearly began to hate and resent the both of us. That was when the shouting started, the violence, and then father had no choice but to call the doctor.

He had no way of knowing the chain of events that could cause, nor the dire consequences it would have on me. The doctor came to the house a little after midnight to take my mother away. She screamed and thrashed violently as she went, calling out to her monster to come and save her.

His name had been Louis and I only remember it because of what happened next. She had only said his name once, a broken and terrified cry for help, when the figure appeared. He was a beautiful man; his skin so pale it shined in the carriage’s lantern light. I do not remember if his hair had been brown or black, it was too dark to make out, but I did know his eyes were red. Bloody, dripping with hatred, and trained on the hands of the doctor holding my mother.

The doctor was dead in the next breath he took, my mother curling into the beast’s chest in complete hysterics. Louis then looked at my father, his intentions clear, before finding me. I was crying, my nightgown thin and exposing, and my own horror was reflected back at me. Whatever he saw that day made all the difference. Killing my father was easy for him to do. If he was my mother’s lover, then he would have hated the man who bore her children. I don't remember screaming but I could recall my mother telling me not to be afraid. Louis would make it quick. My death, she said, would be painless.

It was not. When Louis’s teeth sank into my neck, I only felt the slightly pinprick of pressure before I grew tired and weak. I knew I would die, and I did not fight it. I was either too weak or shell-shocked to put much behind it. Then, he was off of me, and I was fighting to keep my eyes open.

“You will be magnificent,” He whispered, kissing my cheek. His voice was soft, presumably to keep my mother from hearing us. I would never know why. “I will take care of her. You take care of yourself, little one.”

Then they were gone, Louis and my mother both. I had barely managed to crawl back inside, my hand clutching the wound on my neck, when the burning started. It lasted for three days and when it was over, I woke up afraid and starved. My father and the doctor were still outside, but I did not care who they were. I drained what was left of them before realizing what I had done. Ashamed and mortified, I put them both in the carriage and set it on fire. No one could know what had happened, of that I was certain.

The next few years of my life were spent in the forests of Virginia staying out of sight and hunting. I lived off of animals mostly, their deaths did not weigh down on my conscience as much as a human's did. My family home was vacant, untouched, and our names were forgotten to time. In 1875, I finally emerged from my isolation in the forests and moved back in. By 1900, I was able to venture into town on a rare occasion when the sun was well hidden beneath a thick layer of clouds. The house had gone through very few changes and the room I stood in now had been my father’s study. I hated the thought of touching anything in it, but I knew I would need to fix this issue. I could feel how weak the wood around it was becoming.

A loud crack of lighting boomed in the distance followed by a low rumbling. The storm was here. My love was not. I kept watching and waiting.

I met Hoseok through coincidence. My friend Seokjin, a Korean immigrant who traveled across the world as a nomad, had stumbled across the boy when he was dying from tuberculosis on the streets of New York. Jin, feeling sorry for the young man, changed him as he had done so five other times. All of his children were nomads, two of them finding their mates, and I got along with them rather well. Hoseok was no exception.

Jin had come to me after Hoseok had taken a swipe at his sire’s own newly transformed mate, Evelyn. The boy needed someone to help him with his temper and dealing with two newborns was rather difficult. I remembered my own early years with distaste. We acted more like animals than people.

Hoseok arrived on my doorstep in 1953, angry, hungry, and completely irrational. He was just over a year old and while the worst of it was over, he had a gift that took its toll on him. Not all of our kind had an extra sense. Jin, for example, was completely normal. His beauty was unparalleled, but even in his human life he was the most handsome man one could have met. Hoseok, however, was not as lucky.

The boy was incredibly powerful, his ability to hypnotize anyone with the sound of his voice was something the Volturi, the leaders and rulers of our kind, would love to get their hands on. For Hoseok, it made his thirst grow quicker and he lacked control of it. He could easily manipulate those around him without meaning to, which was why his brothers did not want to deal with the task. I was Jin’s last resort and the only reason he had come to me was my own gift.

I lived in my world in a sort of bubble. Gifts, no matter the kind, were ineffective against it. The bubble was invisible, elastic, and malleable, but impenetrable. I could choose to remove it from myself and take the brunt of whatever ability was being thrown at me, but I had only done it twice. Both times had been when Jungkook had come to see me and wanted to know if his gift, to make fake clones of himself, could throw me off. He won the first round, but I came out on top the second time. Being the sore loser he is, Jungkook never asked for a rematch.

Hoseok and I took some time to warm up to one another. The pull toward him was instantaneous but he was too young and wild for either one of us to explore what that could mean. The first five months was spent chasing him down before he could attack the unsuspecting townsfolk in Richmond. Then it was showing him the way I hunted. When his eyes changed from red to amber to gold, his mood stabilized. Our friendship was finally able to take root and before long our love bloomed.

After our first kiss under the stars in the trees that surrounded my home, we were connected so deeply that removing one would surely bring death upon the other. When I was a child, I had been disappointed to grow up in the East. We were in the more rural part of Richmond and all of the girls at school made fun of me for being a ‘country bumpkin.’ As a vampire, however, my little ranch was a paradise. Hoseok and I could make love for hours and no one would hear a thing.

Right now, during this thunderstorm, would be prime time for us to lose ourselves within one another. It was a shame he had decided to go hunting alone today. Hoseok liked having space far more than I did, but I understood his wants and needs and gave him what he asked for. I could only hope his delay was from him getting distracted and not an unfortunate slip up. He had them more than I did, and they ruined his mood for weeks.

Finally, I saw him. His black hair was slick and stuck to his forehead from the rain, the linen pajamas he had worn out transparent and heavy. Elated to finally have him home, I jumped out of the window and crashed into him. The sound was thunderous.

Hoseok laughed, “Hey there, Sunshine.”

On top of him, I sighed, holding him close to me. The rain was cold, but it would not bother me. I could not get sick. Capturing his lips, I finally felt at ease. I did not like it when he was gone. The house was too quiet.

“I love you,” I sighed, feeling my body hum to life with need. “I missed you. Touch me.”

This aspect of our love life had been difficult for me at first. I was from an era when a woman did not speak this way, but after gentle coaxing from my lover, I had gotten over the prudishness of the 1850s. We were, after all, more connected than any human couple could hope to be. Gripping my hips, Hoseok licked my bottom lip.

“Can we go inside?” He asked, nipping at my chin as my hands shredded his shirt. “The rain is distracting.”

I nodded and he scooped me up, carrying me back inside at our natural speed. We were fan, faster than any living thing on the planet, and able to see the world clearly as we passed it by. Hoseok ripped the front door of its hinges, making me laugh. He was always so impatient when it came to sex.

We ran up the steps, passing the study on the way to our bedroom. The door was still open, the rain pouring into it. I wondered briefly what my father would have thought of Hoseok. Then his lips were attached to my ear and all thoughts of my father were gone.

He was less aggressive with the door to our bedroom. A creak inaudible to the human ear sent a chill up my spine as I clung to his wet body. His skin felt hot under my hands despite how cold we both were. Hoseok was panting like a dog, more from his excitement than any real need for air.

He laid me down on our bed gently before tearing off my dress. The chemise pulled apart as easily as a piece of paper. Hoseok’s mouth found my chest as soon as it was exposed to him, mouth finding a nipple as a hand fiddled with the other. Whining, I buried my hands in his hair and held him close to me.

“I missed you so much,” I cried out.

Hoseok bit down on the little nub before letting it go with a loud smack. Fingers still twisting and brushing my right nipple, he smiled down at me. Topaz eyes were pitch black with desire and a low purr reverberated through his chest. I felt it in my groin.

“I missed you more,” He replied huskily.

I smiled shyly, reaching out for him. Hoseok leaned into my touch, purring increasing as I caressed his face. Pouting my lips, I begged him to come closer with my eyes. He smiled; his eyes soft.

“I wish you could see how beautiful you look right now.”

He sucked on my chest for what felt like hours, grinding his hips down to meet my own, and purring like a cat the entire time. He had always embraced the more animalistic aspects of our life. My breathy sighs spurred him on, my hands increasing their wandering across his torso, as I silently pleaded with him for more. Hoseok only made me wait a few moments more before sloppy kisses descended down my stomach.

A thin pair of cotton underwear separated us, but he simply licked over the fabric. I cried out, the pleasure sending shockwaves through my body. Long, hard swipes of his tongue had my writhing, his breath so hot and warm against me it felt like I was taking a scolding bath. With every lick and suck I felt myself grow hotter. Hoseok lost himself to his own pleasure, rubbing himself against the mattress as he held my legs apart.

Sex was not always so brazen. Our first few times were more primal, the need to be close after months of dancing around the issue making the release all the more powerful. After that, I had grown slightly shy. Hoseok had taken to leaving my top on during those days, letting me grow more comfortable in his presence, and taking me so gently I cried. The next 70 years have taught us a great deal about one another, and now sex was just a part of who we were. Not a day went by that we were not lost to it, each time bringing out a different part of us, before going back to our respective hobbies. In a storm like this, however, I imagined we would not leave this bed.

“Please,” I whined. “More.”

Finally, the thin piece of cotton was removed, and his tongue was on me. Long and broad at first, he liked to play with me for a few moments before diving in. Unlike myself, my love had enough patience to watch and wait. Savoring it, he said. I think he just enjoyed being the only person who could see my eyes roll back in ecstasy.

I felt the ghost of his fingers trailing down my leg at the same time his mouth found my clitoris. I hissed, back arching off the bed as he swirled his tongue around the bud. His finger pressed against my opening. I gushed around it, grinding my hips down and forcing the tip inside of me. Hoseok groaned, tongue becoming more aggressive. I cried out, pushing down again and swallowing more of his finger. Finally, with a deep growl, he pushed it the rest of the way and added another immediately after.

I had never felt more alive than when we were in this bed. With Hoseok on top of me, eyes hungry and watching my every move like I was the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. The monster within me was finally asleep as I became all consumed with his touch. Finding the soft bundle of nerves within me, Hoseok purred. I sobbed, the pleasure overwhelming.

“Look at you,” Hoseok rasped, moving from my sex to watch me. His fingers stretched me out as my hips raised to meet his thrusts. “So pretty and warm.”

He kissed my neck, “Your body is so beautiful.”

Languid kisses down across my throat, teeth gently grazing the skin, before trailing back down to my breasts. They had always been his favorite part of my body. He licked down the swell before kissing my nipple. His fingers sped up their menstruations making me mewl.

“God,” He croaked, voice deeper than normal. “You love this, don’t you?”

I nodded, body twitching and convulsing. “Yes.”

“Tell me how much,” He sucked on my left nipple.

I struggled to find words. My body was on fire now, my stomach tightening and expanding, and I knew I was close. My thighs were shaking so violently I would be embarrassed if it was anybody else, but this was Hoseok, and I knew he was happy to see my body singing for him. Somehow, I managed to speak.

“So much,” I breathed. “I love it so much.”

Sitting back on his ankles, he smirked. His shirt was gone and his toned body was on full display. I would never get bored of looking at him. Hoseok was the most beautiful person I had ever seen.

“You’re so messy,” His voice was like velvet. “So wet for me.”

His thumb found my clit and I was cumming before I could really savor the feeling. With a loud shout, I fell apart with Hoseok’s eyes on me. I was wired up and so desperate for more I began to beg. My pleas came out without a single thought behind them. I was drunk on pleasure and yearning for more.

“Just relax,” He finally said, hovering over me once more. His fingers were gone now and I began to tear at his pants. They were still wet and his skin had cooled the rain even further. “I’m going to take care of you.”

My hands were all over him. With his pants disposed of and his cock out, I held it tightly as I began to work my hands in a rhythm I knew he loved. Hoseok let out a guttural sound, a mix between a bear and a mountain lion, as he began to fondle my breasts again. Flicking my nipples, he fucked himself into my hand as he panted.

“Stop,” He grunted, grabbing hold of my wrist. “Grab your legs.”

I did as I was told. It had been difficult to let go of my control in the beginning. I was such a tightly wound person, my need for schedules and sameness a byproduct of my upbringing. I was raised to be prim, proper, and well put together. Even if I did not feel well, I was to be washed, dressed, and smiling all day long. Father would not accept anything less.

When my sexual relationship with Hoseok started, that was still a large part of who I was. When we changed we were frozen in time. It took a lot to cause great change within our kind. For myself, I had only had two since the burning stopped. The first was my decision to stop hunting the humans in my area. Animal blood helped calm the raging anger and depression I carried over from the last night I was alive. The second had been Hoseok’s arrival. Our mates changed us in the most profound way, and his existence made the looming sadness I carried with me fade. It was not gone, it would never fully heal for that was impossible, but he made the gaping hole in my heart three times smaller.

The other thing that changed was my horrible habit of controlling the people around me. Jin and the others all commented on my inability to relax or let go. Jimin, the first person Jin had ever changed, had joked that I was the only vampire in existence with wrinkles. I laughed at the time, but after Hoseok came to me I realized he had been right. I was always stressed, always striving for perfection, and always disappointed when it never came to fruition.

Laying underneath him, I was in awe at how easily I pushed my legs up against my chest. My arm pinned them down. There was not a worry about how improper I looked or if my hair was splayed out nicely. I did not care if this was perfect because I knew we were. Hoseok pressed himself to my entrance and I smiled. I did not need perfection so long as I had him.

Pushing himself into me, he cried out in pleasure while I chanted ‘yes’ over and over and over again. Buried to the hilt, Hoseok took a moment to hook my legs around his hips and kissed the tip of my nose. With a soft declaration of his love, he began to move.

I held onto his arms with everything I had. Hoseok was stronger than I was so I did not need to worry about my own strength bothering him. Outside the storm raged on while we rejoiced in our pleasure. Hoseok’s thrusts were hard, steady, and hit my deepest spot with precision. After so long we had one another memorized.

“S’good,” Hoseok slurred, his hips pistoning into me roughly. “You feel so good.”

I whimpered, “Baby, please.”

He grabbed my hair, roughly shoving my face into the mattress as he lifted his leg onto the bed. I wailed, his cock pounding into my g-spot making me see stars. His own sounds grew louder, growls and snarls filling the space as the sounds of us coming together grew louder and louder.

Fire was pooling in my lower abdomen, so hot it rivaled my change. I could feel Hoseok pulsing inside of me, his grip on my hair still hard and strong. Then he tugged, my head lifting off the bed as he manhandled me. He forced our mouths together, a clashing of teeth and tongue as he chased his own high. Time began to slow before fading, the fire all consuming, and I could no longer respond to Hoseok’s kisses. He let go of me then and I fell back onto the bed.

Everything faded into white, hot, searing sparks shooting up my entire body and licking my bones on their way out. I could vaguely hear the sound of something being torn as my body convulsed with the weight of my orgasm. Above me, Hoseok stuttered.

“I love you,” He said, his own pleasure closing in.

I hardly paid him any attention. Our kind would never tire, never sleep, or sweat, but I was positive I was at least two of them at this moment. I felt like I was in a trance as I watched him fall apart, his eyebrows pulled together and his mouth agape. His grunts and groans were more like cries now, higher and pitch and breathless. Then, with one final thrust he was spilling into me.

We stayed that way for a while, Hoseok inside of me as we looked into one another's eyes. Neither one of us was particularly tired but I knew we would take a break before our next round. The both of us enjoyed the human charade of cuddling and pretending to sleep for a time. Eyes closed and breathing evenly before finally one of us would break. Outside a particularly loud rumble made him grin.

“How would dancing in the rain sound?” He asked.

I laughed, heart full now that he was here.

“What kind of dancing?” I teased, already knowing my answer.

“Well, it will not require clothing.”

I pushed him away, sending his body back toward the other side of the room. With a wicked grin, Hoseok jumped to catch me, but I was already gone. If Hoseok was the strongest, I was the fastest. I ran down the hall, into my father's study, and out of the window with Hoseok fast on my trail.

My change had always seemed so meaningless before Hoseok came. Years spent wondering Louis’s reasoning and subsequent abandonment. I had never seen nor heard from either Louis or my mother since that night, and that left so much time for me to grow angry and bitter about this life. I hated what I was and who I was forced to be.

Now, running in with Hoseok in the afterglow of our love I realized something that would cause a third change within me. Everything that had led me up to this moment was worth it. All of the pain, loneliness, and heartache I had gone through was not a curse. It was a precursor. Every memory leading to the very reason for my existence closer still. A smile stretched across my face, one of my rarest, largest of smiles, and I let Hoseok catch me.

As long as he was here, nothing else mattered.

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sunhowler-art · 9 months

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was inspired by this post to design some hlvrai warrior cats!! i'm honestly shocked it took me 2 years to make a warriors au for it, i love making warriors aus...

some basic info below the cut!

sooo my general idea (it's pretty hazy right now. forgive me) for this au is that songfoot (benrey), nectarbrook (darnold), goldenberry (tommy), galeheart (coomer), scorchtail (bubby), and snakestar (gman) are all from the same clan... i'm between plain ol' thunderclan or a custom clan called mesaclan. i'm probably gonna go with thunderclan because i don't wanna bother with making other clans and lore and stuff LOL. there's some kind of threat outside of the clans that's affecting the environment a la the beavers in arc 4. it's something that starclan definitely caused, whether deliberately or accidentally, i dunno. main point is that snakestar sends songfoot, nectarbrook, goldenberry, galeheart, and scorchtail off on a journey to track down the problem and take care of it. while they're gone, the external threat kills snakestar and he spends all his time being a textbook unhelpful and cryptic starclan cat who just kind of makes things worse. as per a snakestar prophecy, the gang picks up gordon along the way, a kittypet whose owners abandoned her and she's been mostly unsuccessfully fending for herself since. oh and frostpaw (forzen) is part of bloodclan. bloodclan tries and fails to kill the gang, despite frostpaw's best efforts (he kidnapped goldenberry's bird friend, sunny).

some lil character facts and such:

gordon is an ex kittypet. she had a very very cozy and spoiled life up until her twolegs got evicted or something and tossed her out onto the streets. she wasn't out there long before the clan cats found her, and thank god for that, because she sucks at being a survivalist. she is fairly smart though, bringing a fresh perspective and problem solving skills to the group. she is consistently freaked the fuck out by clan cat culture, and the clan cats have fun gaslighting her about it. the only cat who doesn't play along with that is goldenberry, mostly because he doesn't really think its that funny. gordon picks up survival skills from the clan cats fairly quickly, but they still call her soft all the time. classic clan cat anti-kittypet prejudice.

songfoot is the warrior code's biggest fan. not because he really fully believes in its utility, mostly because he loves bossing people around. you can find him stalking around thunderclan camp looking out for anyone doing minor infractions. god forbid you take too much fresh kill from the pile, you'll never hear the end of it. he can't really do much about it though, because snakestar finds him vaguely offputting. his signature stare doesn't help much. his fellow warriors generally like him despite all his strange quirks. songfoot has some kind of starclan-given power a la The Three... my thought is that his vocalizations have supernatural mind-altering properties. it's kinda like sweet voice, but a hiss can make others mad, a purr can make others calm, a screech can stun them, etc. without fail. he's vaguely aware of this power, and he doesn't really use it for things starclan would like him to. he kinda does his own thing.

he's a fairly competent hunter and fighter, but he's generally physically non-confrontational. during battle, he prefers to slink along in the shadows and wait to strike.

during the journey, he loves following gordon along. initially it's because of his deeply embedded distrust of kittypets, but he realizes pretty quickly that he's interested in her in a different sense, one that really frustrates and confuses him... a warrior shouldn't wanna be mates with a kittypet. that's so beyond wrong. he's gotta do everything he can to annoy gordon into leaving the group so he doesn't have to confront his feelings about her (one of these tactics involves him insisting on calling her "gordie," saying it sounds much more suitable for a kittypet). unfortunately for the both of them, that doesn't work. what's worse-- his powers don't seem to work on her for whatever reason. they continue to butt heads for far too long before either of them opens up about how they actually feel. (it takes gordon far longer to admit to herself that she's feeling that way than it does for songfoot, but eventually it clicks for her.)

("song" comes from sweet voice, and "foot" comes from... y'know. but i imagine the in-universe explanation is that he spends a lot of time padding around and watching people. the name from the post that inspired this one-- sweetsong-- is perfect but i didn't wanna copy it. i really like the name songfoot though, i think it's really cute.)

nectarbrook is thunderclan's beloved medicine cat. sweet and silly, she has an affinity for collecting and mixing herbs to create new tinctures. they don't always work exactly how she wants them to, but they never have strictly negative effects, so... not too bad! she spends most of her time on the journey trying and failing to be a mediator, and cowering in fear while everyone else does the scary (and often stupid) work. she's got an intelligence to rival gordon's, and she's one of the only cats gordon fully gets along with.

("nectar" is about the closest warrior cats prefix to "soda," and "brook" just kinda sounds nice as a suffix to nectar. it's another liquid-related word too.)

frostpaw is a bloodclan apprentice. he's well beyond apprentice age, but he's pretty incompetent at warrior duties and such, so it's taking him a while. he just wants to graduate.

i imagine he used to be a cushy kittypet with dreams of being one of those cool cat gang members he sees outside every now and again. he's way in over his head.

("frost" comes from forzen. obviously. i initially envisioned him as a warrior named frostjaw. i don't know why i chose that suffix other than it sounding nice. but then i remembered the "i just wanna graduate" thing, and thought it would be funny to make him an apprentice.)

goldenberry is a highly skilled warrior and one of snakestar's kits. he has a very unassuming demeanor, often appearing clumsy or head-in-the-clouds, but he's one of thunderclan's most precise and deadly fighters. his long windclan-like limbs allow for quick movement. like his father, he strikes like a snake. despite his prowess, he doesn't like fighting at all, and he would much rather hang around camp with his friend songfoot and take care of menial tasks like an apprentice or test out new herb tinctures for nectarbrook. he's very helpful and kind, if not a bit blunt. before snakestar died, he had goldenberry in mind as the next deputy as soon as galeheart finally kicked the bucket. he only didn't make him the deputy in the first place because he was an apprentice at the time.

("golden" comes from tommy's signature yellow, as well as his father's perception of him as highly important. "berry" comes from his general sillyness and his affinity for nectarbrook's various little treats.)

galeheart is a gregarious senior warrior and thunderclan's beloved deputy. despite his small stature, he's incredibly strong and overzealous. he loves his clan to death and he loves fighting even more, often dragging everyone into unnecessary squabbles just for the thrill of it. his loud, booming voice commands everyone's attention. he's quite old and really should be in the elders' den at this point, but his love for the warrior life keeps him going despite it all, and he's still in great shape. snakestar isn't quite so satisfied with galeheart's behavior, but there's not much he can do about that, given everyone else loves galeheart to bits. snakestar partially send him on that journey in hopes he would die already, but he has an unwavering spirit and he can and will outlive snakestar.

galeheart and gordon get along for the most part, but gordon is a little scared of him.

("gale" comes from coomer's general energy. he is a strong gust of wind to me. it also brings to mind the color white, which... is what galeheart is! "heart" also comes from his Vibes, mostly his fighting spirit.)

scorchtail is yet another old coot who should be getting ticks picked off of him by apprentices, but his stubbornness keeps him in his warrior position. he's not even particularly good at being a warrior-- he's cowardly and his battle strategy can best be described as the real life version of button-mashing. still, he's far too prideful to retire to the elders' den. he tends to follow galeheart around, since they grew up together and share similar positions in the clan. he's very antagonistic towards gordon, even moreso than songfoot. he has a special hatred of kittypets, seeing their lifestyle as an embarrassment.

("scorch" comes from bubby's association with fire as well as his sassy disposition, and "tail" comes from the tip of his tail looking burnt.)

snakestar is a starclan cat who was previously thunderclan's leader. he's generally cold and and analytical, and not much of a fighter, preferring to make others do his bidding. this behavior carried over very well to starclan, where he spends all his time being appropriately cryptic and unhelpful. he holds a lot of love for his one son, goldenberry, who he's always watching over. he doesn't care much for his other previous clanmates. he visits gordon in her dreams often to tell her vague things about her "part to play" and how important she is and all that. he arbitrarily decided that she was the subject of a prophecy, for the most part. i like to think starclan just makes shit up for fun. i think maybe one of his ancestors visited gordon when she was a kitten and made some kind of deal with her. i dunno. i'm in the very early stages of this au.

("snake" comes from gman's general vibes, but it's also an allusion to snakes in mythology [particularly abrahamic myth] being sleazy dealmakers with ill intent. before he was a leader, his suffix was "sight," alluding to his tendency to sit back and watch rather than run into battle.)

thanks for reading my long-ass ramblings, if you did! :-P idk if i'll actually do anything with any of this, but it's fun to think about...

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colorlessjayblog · 3 months

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Supernatural High School AU idea: Here me out

High school is full of monsters (metaphorically), and with Sammy being old enough to actually start that dreadful stage of pre teen, it's up to his big brother Dean to make sure lil Sammy doesn't have to deal with the shit he had to Unfortunately for him, his dad John Winchester just got promoted and decided, without even discussing it with his kids, that they should move out to the big city so he can live closer to the police station he's been transferred to. So all the street cred Dean had built up for 4 years that he was planning on using to keep Sam safe from bullies? Down the drain. Worst of all, the new high school the two were enrolled in is, for lack of a better terms, crawling with monsters (teenagers) that see two cop kids and immediately pin them down as fresh meat.

While Sam hopes to keep a low profile and focus on his studies, Dean immediately tries to make himself a bigger target for attention. He hope to building a reputation that could either get people to like him enough to not bother Sam, or scared of him enough that they wouldn't dare hurt his little brother. Either way, he finds himself with a busted lip and bruised knuckles, sitting in detention on the first week of school. Dean thinks of his dad at that moment, and the amount of shit he was gonna get when they inevitably call him and snitch. He thinks about ways to possibly get out of it (maybe calling Uncle Bobby to bail them out somehow) when the door to the detention room opens and Dean, to his surprise, was given a slap on the wrist and a warning by the vice principle When asked why, all Ms. Billie tells him was that a guy named Castiel vouched for his innocence and claimed it was all self defense. Dean soon meets his 'guardian angel' standing by his locker, not leaning against it, standing in front of it in the middle of the hall way like a creep. The trench coat that was two sizes too big didn't help They have the most uncomfortable stare off before Dean asks who the hell he was and all he gets is: "I'm the one who vouched for you, and saved you from detention" Dean doesn't trust the guy as far as he can thrown him, especially after finding out the guy was part of the school's Ice Hockey team, who Dean didn't even know the school had, since they also had a (more vocal) Football team, one that Dean was planning on joining to gain some jock rep. Castiel's reason for 'saving' Dean had been to try and recruit him for hockey, something Dean immediately turns down. Dean didn't trust whatever it was they were planning, certainly didn't trust the guy they sent as a representative. On the other side of the coin, Sam is struggling to find his footing in his new life. He's gotten used to traveling often, his dad having taken him and Dean out hunting numerous times through out his childhood, but this was permanent. He barely had any friends back in Kansas, he has less so now being the new kid. One thing was for sure, Sam didn't want to rely on his big brother for everything anymore. Not because he wasn't grateful, heaven knows Dean had been more of a father to him then his own dad, but that's just it! He doesn't want Dean to keep watch over him, he wants his big brother to actually enjoy high school and be a teenager, without having to worry about his little brother getting hurt or finding Sam on the wrong end of a fist. Sam wanted to prove to Dean that he was just as capable, independent, and strong as he was. Which leads to Sam finding himself among some bad company. He wasn't gullible by any means, but hormones and the itch to rebel and prove himself push him to some trouble he thought he'd never find himself in. All it took was one conversation with his classmate Ruby, and suddenly Sam finds himself involved in the most convoluted, and frankly cliche, high school deep shit drama. Now he has to keep secrets, sneak around, and uncover dirty laundry from people who are far too damaged to be in high school. Seriously, so many of them need to go to some kind of therapist or physiatrist. That or they need a better guidance counselor. Highjinx happen, fights break out, hearts are broken, and people discover things about themselves they wish they never did. All in time for the apocalypse (Senior Prom)

----------- Feel free to use this as a prompt or something! I'd love to hear people's ideas. Or hell, add on to the idea, what the other characters would be in this AU. I was thinking Charlie could be part of a DND or boardgame/video gaming club, some, some shit happens that leads to Dean and Charlie being friends. Thinking about Heaven and Hell just being two very different popular groups. Heaven group being the student council, preppy, rich kids. Hell being the rebels, delinquents, and outcasts. Cliche's like Vampires being goths, werewolves being jocks and all that

#supernatural #spn fanart #castiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #destiel #deancas #supernatural au #team free will

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intplayboy · 6 months

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WITCH'S REFUGE - ROYAL SOLDIERS! BTS OT7 X FEM WITCH! READER [ PROLOGUE ]

if you wish to be part of the tag list, complete the form.

summary: in an era where the royal family denounces all magic, as one of the few remaining witches, you hide your powers. though you try to lead a normal life, only the seven accepting men make you feel truly understood. yet, what destiny awaits when you must reveal your true identity?

pairing: royal soldiers bts ot7 x female witch reader (high royal commander!kim namjoon, high royal soldier!kim seokjin, high royal soldier!min yoongi, royal assassin!jung hoseok, royal assassin!park jimin, elite warrior!kim taehyung, elite warrior!jeon jungkook)

warnings: mentions of violence, blood, death, slight mentions of SA, disgusting misogyny, witchcraft, slight gore, and swearing.

permanent tag list: @taolucha, @exfolitae, @namjoonswaifu, @rinkud, @queenlouie18, @btsgangleader @m0v3m3ntsblog, @nicholedobre-blog, @bjoriis, @princess-sunshyn, @han-aaaaa, @ejspencer14, @skyys-universe, @thvslvt, @dustyinkpages, @savagemickey03, @aynbookworm, @loveforred, @jwonz, @ghostlyworld, @wagtte, @louisaqueen, @meepsters-world, @carolina-thiell, @svnbangtansworld, @deepestfacedevil

(the tags that are strikethrough could not be tagged)

word count: 8,942

*note: the fictional language that will be spoken a lot throughout this story is called "Astrithian". it's mainly used among witches to converse without being understood to outsiders and to vocalize their magic. there will also be a lot of terminology used, which will be explained*

********

15 enchantas ago... (Derived from "Enchant" and "Era," Enchanta marks a single year. It reflects the enchantment and wonder that pervade the world, making each year unique.)

In the midst of the forest that bordered your humble abode, a thrilling spectacle unfolded. Giggles erupted from your seven-year-old self as you dash through the trees, your small feet carrying you swiftly across the woodland floor. Behind you, seven older companions pursued with a mixture of determination and amusement, transforming the surroundings into an endless playground.

Ten-year-old Jimin, one of your companions, couldn't help but grumble in his pursuit. "How is she so tiny, yet moves with such speed?"

A mischievous giggle escaped nine-year-old Jungkook. "Perhaps it's because you're too tiny yourself."

Jimin narrow his eyes at Jungkook. "Your humor lacks refinement."

"I beg to differ. It sounded rather amusing to me," thirteen-year-old Jin chimed in, joining the teasing banter.

"Fine. I wager two draconian ingots that none of you can catch her," Jimin challenged, ego slightly bruised.

(draconian ingots, crafted from rare golden mystical alloys associated with legendary dragons, symbolized wealth and power, reflecting the dragons' historical influence on the world.)

"Two draconian ingots?! Game on!" Jungkook shouts with enthusiasm. "Prepare to be caught, Y/N!"

The onlookers, including Jimin and the rest, watched in astonishment as little Jungkook accelerated on his nimble feet. "Wait—hey!"

"I don't know if you're generous or foolish for making such a bet with Jungkook," eleven-year-old Namjoon remarked, shaking his head with a chuckle.

A groan escapes Jimin as he laments his decision. "Don't remind me..."

Undeterred by the unforeseen turn of events, Taehyung seizes the opportunity, surging ahead in the pursuit of both victory and draconian ingots. "I'm with Jungkook! I want those draconian ingots! Here I come, Y/N!"

The forest echoes with the playful banter and the rustle of leaves as the pursuit continues, transforming a simple chase into a spirited competition fueled by the allure of mythical riches.

Twelve-year-old Yoongi, however, couldn't hide his weariness. "Must we turn a playful chase into a pursuit of bets and riches? I'm growing tired."

"What do you mean? It's always fun! I'm having a blast!" cheered Hoseok.

Jin, always the peacemaker, interjects with playful sarcasm. "You're perpetually tired, Yoongi. Don't use that excuse now."

"But do we really need to take it this far…" Yoongi grumbles.

"Hey, Y/N initially wanted to share something exciting with us. It somehow evolved into a spirited chase," observed Namjoon, thinking of you as a little rascal.

After a short span of a brisk run, you and your seven friends find yourselves at the unexpected marvel you had eagerly anticipated. Pausing to catch your breath, you turn around swiftly, ready to unveil the surprise to your companions.

As they gather around, you theatrically gesture towards it. "Behold! Is it not wondrous?!!"

As their eyes take in the scene before them, their expressions transform into sheer astonishment. "A concealed waterfall?!"

Grinning broadly at their reactions, you declare, "It is not merely a waterfall, my lords."

Confused gazes meet yours, urging you to elaborate. Your excitement bubbles over as you squeal, "It is a magical waterfall!"

"Mother and father informed me that by tossing in a single lunaris shilling, one's deepest desire can be granted," you share with delight. "And should you swim in its waters, every injury and ailment will be miraculously healed!"

(lunaris shillings are silver coins that embody the magic and mystery associated with the moon. they are prized for their magical properties and are often used in mystical transactions.)

A silence lingers as they absorb the revelation, still processing the words that spill from your lips regarding the hidden waterfall discovered in collaboration with your parents.

The more they remain silent, the more a sense of gloom starts to settle within you. Doubt begins to creep in, wondering if they share your enthusiasm or if they question the authenticity of your claims. Yet, you know it to be true – you've witnessed the magical properties of the water firsthand. Your mother's wish for an early harvest season, whispered as she tossed in a shilling, came to fruition three auroas sooner, a testament to the enchanted nature of the waterfall.

(auroa: unique term representing months, inspired by the word "aurora." it symbolizes the cycles of magic, similar to the changing colors of the northern lights.)

You recall the time your father succumbed to a severe respiratory illness, the burden fell upon you and your mother to transport his weakened body to the mystical waters. As you immersed him, a miraculous transformation unfolded before your eyes—the pallor of sickness dissipated, the shadows under his eyes vanished, and vitality surged back into his frail form.

"Well, I have a pair of lunaris shillings right now. Shall we have a go at it, then?" Hoseok approaches, reaching into his pocket to retrieve the silver coins.

The others, initially hesitant, soon follow Hoseok's lead, drawn by the allure of the magical cascade. "Yeah, let's all try it," they chorused, surrendering to the enchantment that lingered in the air.

"Besides, if witches live among us, who's to say magic is not to be real?" Hoseok grins at you, his warmth radiating in the face of uncertainty. Hoseok, with his innate sense of empathy, stood out among your companions, always ready to defend you and find positivity in every situation. He was the angel of your group, and you couldn't help but hope that this facet of his character transcended across all universes.

As you stood in line with Jimin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Hoseok, Namjoon, Seokjin, and Yoongi, the sparkling waterline glistened under the moonlight, drawing your attention to the tranquil body of water that connected to the majestic waterfall.

"What are you guys wishing for?" you ask with genuine curiosity, the anticipation of fulfilling desires shimmering in the air.

Hoseok gazes ahead pensively before releasing a soft sigh. "To become the finest royal guard in all the kingdom, and to bring honor to each of you," he declared, casting his single shilling into the waters with a determined flick of his wrist.

"You already bring us great pride, Hobi," you reassure him with a tender smile, warmth radiating from your words.

His lips curved into a grateful smile. "Thank you."

"Well, I wish to live long and healthy." Jimin says, throwing his own lunaris shillings.

Jungkook, ever the playful one, puffs up his chest with pride, drawing laughter from the group. "I wish to be the strongest in the kingdom so that I can save you anytime, my lady," he declares, a cheesy smile accompanying his theatrical gesture.

You chuckle at his charming display, reciprocating with a smile as he playfully toss his shillings into the water.

A mischievous glint dances in Taehyung's eyes as he steps forward, his wish spoken with a lighthearted jest. "My wish is to remain the most handsome boy in our kingdom!" His shilling follows suit, accompanied by a playful nudge from Jimin.

"You're already a vision, Taehyungie. Such a frivolous wish," Jimin jests, teasing his friend with a good-natured grin.

Taehyung feigns offense, his lips twisting into a mock pout. "Must one's desires be subject to scrutiny? Besides, Y/N herself claimed the water grants any desire. Who am I to resist such potential?"

Seokjin, a noble soul, spoke with a regal air, "I desire to amass wealth, second only to the royal family, to shower you all with opulence whenever the whim takes me." With a flourish, he tosses his lunaris shillings into the mystical depths.

"Ever the provider, Seokjin," Namjoon remarks with a warm smile directed at his older companion.

"Only for you guys," Seokjin replies with a twinkle in his eye.

Yoongi yawns. "Well, for me, I wish to have the best sleeps for all the years to come."

Hoseok rolls his eyes. "Ugh, come on Yoons, this is your one wish, and you're going with that?"

"Mhmm, deal with it," Yoongi concedes. "I wish for the highest standing in the royal court."

Hoseok, in mock surprise, teased, "Hmm, a throne for the sleepyhead. I wonder how that'll unfold."

Yoongi, unfazed, tosses his lunaris shillings into the water alongside the others.

"Now it's my turn... I wish to make a profound impact on our world, something that will resonate with the hearts of the people," Namjoon says, casting his lunaris shillings into the water.

A chorus of awed reactions follows, as Namjoon's words consistently embody honor and admiration from each of you.

"That's truly admirable, Joon," you express, admiration sparkling in your eyes as you smile at him.

Namjoon chuckles, encircling his arm around your shoulders, drawing you into a side hug. "And now, little one, what is your heart's desire?"

"Yeah, you're the last one, Y/N," Taehyung grins widely, the anticipation evident in the group, mirroring their eagerness to hear your wish.

You pause, caught in a moment of contemplation. A recollection surfaces in your mind, a distant echo of your mother's words cautioning you against casting a wish with a lunaris shillings. The water, a benevolent deity of desires, grants wishes to those who offer a solitary shilling, but for reasons never fully explained by your mother, you have always been denied this privilege. However, surrounded by the fervor of your companions' wishes, a yearning to make your own desire known begins to swell within you.

"I... I'm not sure. My mother always cautioned against it," you admit reluctantly.

A collective disbelief and confusion painted the faces of your friends. Namjoon's expression shifted, a slight frown forming on his features. "Why so, my lady?"

"Indeed, you've spoken of it yourself, and your mother too, that the waters grant any wish to those who offer a single lunaris shilling," Taehyung chimed in.

"That seems unjust, does it not? Why should everyone else revel in the joy of making a wish while you are barred?" Jimin pouts, hands resting on his hips.

You can only offer a helpless shrug, your own confusion matching theirs. Yet, before the moment can stretch further, Jungkook strides forward with determination. "Regardless, I believe you should still cast your wish."

"Wait, Jungkook, perhaps there exists a concealed rationale behind Y/N's mother's reluctance. Must we really question her discernment?" Seokjin, reasoned with an air of gentleness.

Jungkook, however, was not swayed. "Indeed, Seokjin, but if such were the case, why did she she impart knowledge of its enchanting powers of the waters to Y/N? It's utterly nonsensical and, dare I say, unjust."

With a firm resolve, Jungkook declared, "She merits the opportunity to express her desires, just as we have."

Seokjin, though still uncertain, mused, "Mhmm, I remain unconvinced, Jungkook. Namjoon, what say you?"

Namjoon pondered, his fingers thoughtfully scratching his chin. "You both make good points."

An expectant hush enveloped the room until Yoongi, the voice of nonchalance, broke the silence. "Well, we find ourselves here now, do we not? What's hindering you?" All eyes turned toward him, waiting for his next utterance.

"Her parents are absent, and only the eight of us bear witness to this clandestine affair. Should none of us breathe a word of tonight, her wish can remain a concealed mystery," Yoongi suggested with tone of indifference.

"So, at this juncture, what hindrance do you perceive?" he nonchalantly reiterated.

Hoseok, ever the optimist, chimed in, "He's not wrong, you know."

As Namjoon turned his gaze back to you. "Well, the decision is ultimately upon you, Y/N," he uttered, his eyes studying you intently.

You purse your lips, your mind racing with possibilities. This choice holds the power to shape your destiny, to alter the course of your life in ways both profound and unforeseen. Beside you, Yoongi's words echo faintly, a reminder of the absence that looms over you like a shadow. Your mother's influence, once a guiding force, now exists only in memory. Here, among friends who value your autonomy, you find the freedom to chart your own course.

With a determined grip, you nodded, the lunaris shilling clutched in your hand. "Very well, I shall make my wish."

The younger members of your group erupt in cheers, their excitement palpable in the air. Hoseok beams at you with infectious enthusiasm.

"And what shall be your wish, my dear lady?" He asks eagerly, his eyes alight with curiosity.

A smile graced your lips. "My wish is for all of us to remain together in happiness, perhaps for an eternity!"

Their smiles mirrored your own, appreciative of the simplicity yet profound sentiment behind your wish.

"What a splendid wish, my lady," Namjoon praised, his admiration evident. With that, you cast your lunaris shillings into the water—and in this moment, a sense of peace washes over you, filling the air with a quiet serenity, surrounded by those who cherish you, you feel truly alive.

As the moon cast its silvery glow upon the path, you and your seven companions strolled toward the cozy cottage that served as your haven. Laughter echoed in the night air as the camaraderie among you all painted a picture of joy and carefree revelry. However, the joyful ambiance quickly shifted when you glimpsed your mother anxiously waiting in the doorway, a deep furrow of concern etched upon her brow.

Oblivious to the impending unease, you hastened towards her, your heart brimming with excitement for the shared supper with your parents and friends. Yet, your mother's countenance betrayed a different sentiment.

"Y/N, where on Earth have you all been?" she exclaimed, her voice edged with worry.

Perplexity clouded your once radiant expression. "What do you mean, Mother? We were merely frolicking in the woods, as is our wont."

"Something has occurred; we must make ready to depart," she urged, grasping your shoulders with an urgency that sent shivers down your spine. Her gaze then shifted to the perplexed and apprehensive faces of your friends, who formed a line behind you.

"Is everything alright, Amahra?" Namjoon inquired with a hint of trepidation.

(Amahra is an endearing term used to address a woman who holds a nurturing and motherly role in someone's life. It is often used with great respect and affection, to acknowledge a maternal figure in the Astrithian language. The overall pronunciation would be similar to "ah-MAH-rah," with a slight rolling of the "r" if you're comfortable doing so.)

A rueful chuckle escaped her lips. "My dear Zarëln, I regret to inform you that you must return to your homes and families."

(In Astrithian, an endearing term used by elders or those in a nurturing role to affectionately address a younger person can be "Zarël," pronounced as "Zah-rehl." This term signifies a sense of protection and guidance, expressing a bond likened to that of a parent and child. To refer to more than one child, you would pluralize it as "Zarëln," pronounced as "Zah-reln.")

"It is urgent for all of us, and for all of you. My farewells must be swift, I'm afraid," she added.

"Mother, what troubles you?" you asked, a somber worry shading your features.

Kneeling down, she gently replied, "I shall explain later, my daughter." Turning to your seven friends, who remained rooted in confusion, she implored, "You all must go now!"

"Return home, my Zarëln, promptly!" she softly commanded, tears glistening in her eyes unbeknownst to you and your friends.

"We shall take our leave then," Namjoon declared, cutting through the bewildering silence. The decision was made for the group, yet the youngest, Jungkook, hesitated.

"But, Namjoon..." His gaze shifted between Namjoon, you and your mother, his reluctance evident as he grappled between concern for you and an unspoken fear lingering in the atmosphere.

"She has requested our departure twice already. Let us not compel her to utter it a third time. We leave now," Namjoon asserted, directing his gaze to Jungkook and the rest of the boys, his eyes emanating a commanding authority beyond his years.

Turning to face you and your mother, Namjoon offers a reassuring smile. "We'll see each other again, Y/N—remember," he says, his words carrying a promise that stirs something deep within you, reminiscent of the wish you made not long ago at the magical waters.

With a final nod, Namjoon led the boys away from your home. Each of them bid their farewells, waving at you with a mixture of solemnity and promise.

As the seven companions gradually disappeared from view, your mother ushered you inside the quaint cottage. She pulled you along by your wrist, and inside, you found your father in a state of hurried activity, stuffing various items into a sizable cloth pouch.

"Father... Why are you packing? What's happening? Mother won't tell me anything," you inquire, your innocence tinged with concern.

Your father halted his frenzied movements and fixed his gaze on you, his eyes holding a gentleness that momentarily softened the gravity of the situation. "I'm sorry, my little enchantress. But the times have changed now. You and your mother may be in danger, and we must flee from here to keep all of us safe."

"What...? Why, Father?" Your voice trembles with emotion, betraying the sadness that grips your heart at the news.

"Children!" The mothers of the seven boys exclaimed, their figures silhouetted against the dim lamplight of the late evening, their faces etched with concern as they awaited their sons coming from their Quadravicar.

(Quadravicar: its name, derived from the fusion of "Quadra" for four and "Vicar," symbolizes both its capacity and its role as a symbol of prestige and status in the kingdom.)

"Mother, what's the matter? It's unusual to find you all gathered like this upon our return from Y/N's," Jin remarked, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of apprehension as he and his friends approached their mothers.

"Where are our fathers? Is there some sort of gathering?" Jin inquired without pausing for an answer to his initial query. The mothers exchanged furtive glances, a silent exchange laden with unspoken tension, while Jin's keen eyes caught sight of the Quandrivaeon.

(Quandrivaeon: The term combines elements of "Quadr-" for four passengers and wheels, and "Vaeon," a unique, exotic-sounding word evoking elegance and regality. The Quandrivaeon would be the epitome of luxury and sophistication, exclusively reserved for the royal family)

"The royal family in attendance?" Jin's brows furrowed in confusion. "Mother, please, enlighten us."

"We've came from a state of perplexity, as well. Y/N's mother hurried our farewells, urging an immediate return home," Jin continued to gaze intently at his mother, silently demanding an explanation.

Finally relenting with a soft, resigned sigh, his mother confessed, "I regret to inform you, but the royal family has orchestrated an emergency meeting with your fathers."

"An emergency meeting for what purpose?" Namjoon interjected, stepping forward with equal concern.

"A new Arcantia is to be established," Namjoon's mother interjected, noticing the other six mothers hesitated to respond, their glances fraught with reluctance.

(Arcantia: A fusion of "Arcane" and "Centuries," representing magical eras lasting a hundred years. Arcantia symbolizes the ever-changing weave of magic throughout the ages.)

"What do you mean by 'a new Arcantia'?" Hoseok's eyes widened in trepidation, sensing the gravity of the impending revelation.

"Yes, my dear children, a new Arcantia is set to commence—an Arcantia where all magic, and all who wield it, shall be expunged from the Kingdom of Pentaraegis," Namjoon's mother finally clarified.

"Banished? Magic, banned?" Jin's disbelief rang out, echoing the incredulity shared by his companions.

"That is correct, my son." Jin's mother nodded in solemn. But to them, the boys, it seemed so feigned.

The rest of the boys stood in shock and disbelief, grappling with the revelation. The abrupt prohibition of magic, so deeply intertwined with their kingdom, appeared surreal.

"For what reason?" Hoseok questioned, skepticism evident in his voice.

Their mothers exchanged glances, silently communicating with one another through their eyes, further intensifying the boys' frustration.

"Mother!" The simultaneous exclamation from the seven boys reverberated, causing their mothers to flinch involuntarily.

"We don't wish to alarm you, but unsettling whispers have circulated regarding a formidable group of witches. They seek to annex territories within our kingdom and forge alliances with covens and solitary witches alike. Your fathers, in alliance with the royal family, are marshaling forces to safeguard Pentaraegis and secure our collective future," explained Jin's mother, her eyes conveying a mix of sorrow and determination.

The weight of this revelation sent shockwaves through the faces of all seven boys. "But— but that's treason... Surely those witches comprehend the gravity of their actions," stuttered Jimin, his words hanging in the air like a lingering mist.

The countenances of their mothers mirrored the weight of the truth they had just disclosed. They understood the turbulent emotions surging within their sons upon learning of the imminent conflict. The witches' desire to claim Pentaraegis lands hinted at an impending war between two factions: the mundane humans and the witches.

In the midst of the heavy silence, Yoongi broke through with a voice that, despite his quiet nature, cut through the tension like a blade. "Is there more you wish to disclose?" His eyes remained fixed on the ground, an uncharacteristic intensity in his gaze.

"These rebellious witches have already seized control of several lands and are poised to claim another as we speak," Yoongi's mother revealed, her words landing like a solemn decree.

"W-where? Is it close by?" Jungkook's fear-laden voice trembled, his wide eyes glistening like twin constellations.

"No, thank the Gods. It's at the border of Auraventia," replied Yoongi's mother, a slight glimmer of relief accompanying her words.

"No..." Jungkook's voice trailed off, a tremor evident in his whisper, the horror mirrored in the collective visages of his companions.

"Why the distress, children?" Jin's mother inquired, her concern palpable.

"We've just returned there, or thereabouts," Jin interjected. "B-But Y/N! Her and her family is still there!"

Jin's concern resonated in his voice, mirrored by the anxious expressions of the rest of six young boys. The looming threat was not a mere abstraction; it was approaching the very doorstep of your home.

"We must extend our aid!" Hoseok exclaimed, a fervent determination in his eyes.

"No. You shall not!" Hoseok and Yoongi's mother asserted.

"And why should we not! They're in danger!" Jin exclaimed, his determination etched in the lines of his face.

"You'd be putting yourselves and all of us in jeopardy. Only a select few of us are privy to the full extent of the situation. Furthermore, we have already dispatched some of our men to aid them," Hoseok's mother reasoned with a firm resolve.

"Wait—That explains Y/N's mother hastening our farewells..." Namjoon mused aloud, prompting all the young men to turn their attention to him, eager for his insight.

Jimin silently nodded, affirming Namjoon's observation. "And did you catch that she urged Y/N to hasten her preparations..."

Taehyung furrowed his brow in contemplation, raising his gaze. "Hold on, were you all aware of this impending danger?"

Their collective silence was an admission, a realization that dawned upon them in this very moment. "And yet, you chose to withhold such crucial information from the outset!"

Jin and Namjoon turned back to their mothers, awaiting some form of explanation. "You are all truly incredulous."

Without a moment's hesitation, the seven determined young boys strode into the opulent cottage, boldly disrupting the pivotal meeting between their fathers and the royal family. The entry door was left agape in a brazen act, while their anxious mothers trailed closely behind.

"How long?" Namjoon demanded, the first to speak.

"Boys! How rude of you to barge in like this," scolded Namjoon's father with a stern tone, swiftly silenced by Namjoon's insistence. "How long were you all aware of this?!"

Gathered around a grand oval wooden table, the men, in collaboration with the King and Queen, surrounded a detailed map of the kingdom. Marked statues adorned specific locations, seemingly representing annexed territories claimed by rebellious witches. Other cryptic markers littered the tableau, leaving the boys uneasy about the ominous implications.

The seven boys darted their eyes between the unsettling symbols on the table and the elders, awaiting an explanation.

"Namjoon, boys, you can't simply demand answers like that," attempted Namjoon's mother to pacify them.

"No, the safety of our people is at stake, and none of you have uttered a word. My questions are justified," asserted Namjoon. Despite his youth, his intellect surpassed his peers, comprehending matters typically reserved for adults.

"You informed them?" Jin's father scrutinized the mothers, who wore guilt on their faces, confirming his suspicion.

"They are your children; their curiosity is unavoidable," the King interjected, diffusing the tension.

Jin, with a quizzical expression, stared at the King. "Answer the question: how long were you all aware of this dire situation?"

"Seokjin! Mind your tone with His Majesty," reprimanded Jin's father, but Jin, fixated on the King, ignored the warning, fearing the worst for you.

"I apologize for my son's tone, your Majesty," Jin's father pleaded.

The King, however, smiled and shook his head in understanding. "It's alright; fear is inevitable. To answer your query, young one, these rumors began circulating three auroas ago, and we only confirmed them just an auroa ago. Hence, your parents couldn't inform you earlier."

Hobi, perceiving an ominous aura from the red markers on the map, inquired, "What do the other markers signify?"

“Hoseok!” Hobi’s mother scolded.

The King's smile returned, though this time it bore a hint of feigned warmth, perhaps even a touch of sinister undertones. The boys couldn't quite grasp it, but they remained attentive to the King's response. "Oh, those represent the areas in our kingdom where we've dispatched our most esteemed military men for what we might term loyalty investigations."

"Loyalty investigations? Such a concept eludes my ears," Namjoon declared, narrowing his eyes. "And what transpires during these so-called 'loyalty investigations'?"

"Well, it's akin to a specialized inquiry led by the King's elite soldiers to ensure no one undermines the kingdom's stability. They visit households, pose questions, and guarantee the safety of our cherished realm. It's a kind of elaborate game of hide-and-seek, where they seek out those who may not fully grasp the importance of loyalty. Remember, unwavering support for the royal family is paramount. It's akin to a stern lesson; their language may be forceful, but it serves to underscore the imperative of unity," Yoongi's mother interjected, choosing her words carefully.

Namjoon, however, with his keen intellect, saw through the carefully crafted explanation. "So, you've instituted a military inquisition?"

"Namjoon—! Pardon my son's audacity, your Majesty," Namjoon's father hissed, bowing slightly to the King.

"What about those innocent in the matter?" Jimin asked with genuine concern in his tone.

"They, too, shall be implicated," Jimin's father promptly replied. "Now, all of you boys, leave this room at once, no more questions."

"Take them away," he ordered, motioning toward their mothers.

As they were unceremoniously dragged away in protest by their mothers, Hoseok's perceptive eyes caught something that seized his immediate interest – a red marker, situated on a land he intimately knew, sending shivers down his spine.

The border of Auraventia.

His eyes widened. "Wait!"

"We recognize that place! Why is Y/N's residence marked?" Hoseok questioned in a panic, breaking free from his mother's grip.

Upon hearing Hoseok's revelation, the remaining boys also swiftly broke free, their concern escalating for you, now aware that the red markers signified an inquisition for her household. The gravity of the situation deepened, understanding that you and your family residing at the border of Auraventia, was the sole target.

"What?!! Why?!!" the seven of them chorused.

"I can assure you, Your Majesty, Y/N and her family are innocent!" Jin pleaded, unwittingly shedding a watery sting, echoed by the other six boys, revealing the profound concern they held for you.

"I thought you were seeking and reprimanding witches, not targeting humans too?" Hoseok exclaimed in worry.

"Oh, you all must be mistaken—" The King began to reply, but his wife, the Queen, interrupted, glancing at him and shaking her head discreetly, directing his attention to the seven mothers with pleading faces, silently conveying, "These boys don't know the whole truth."

This prompted the King to reconsider. "Well, young ones, you'd be surprised how often humans align themselves with those not of their kind. As the ruler and protector of my kingdom, I must take all necessary safety measures. Do you all understand?"

Though the King framed his words with an air of nobility and concern, it failed to resonate with the boys. Their thoughts were consumed by you and your safety.

"If that's to be the case, then we request to witness the inquisition. To ensure a fair process for both your soldiers and Y/N and her family," Namjoon suggested.

"Absolutely not," Namjoon's father affirmed.

"Father!" Namjoon exclaimed in defiance.

"Enough, Namjoon; it needs to be done!" his father replied assertively.

Jimin, with a fervent gleam in his eyes, threw his stance into the fray. "And what of her mother and father? Are you all forgetting Y/N's parents are your dear friends just like Y/N is to us! Do you have no faith in them?" he argued, his words laced with a blend of concern and exasperation.

"Jimin, my child, this is what is necessary for all of us, don't you all understand that?" Jimin's mother interjected, her tone a mixture of sympathy and determination, attempting to calm the rising storm.

"But at the expense of our dear friends?! We will not accept this!" Jin's voice rang out, his frustration mirroring Jimin's.

"We're going. Whether you all like it or not," Namjoon declared, his gaze unwavering, his resolve like iron.

"And we've told you, you shall not!" Namjoon's father objected, his voice laced with authority, yet tinged with a hint of desperation.

In response, Namjoon lifted his chin defiantly, a silent proclamation of his unwavering resolve. He and his friends had made up their minds on how to proceed with the situation. You held a significance that transcended familial ties. You are not just a friend; you are a vital part of their lives. The circumstance puzzled them – how their parents, despite being friends with your parents, harbored an air of inequity towards them.

"Everyone, run to the Quadravicar!" Namjoon urgently commanded his six companions, swiftly pivoting and taking off with them. The urgency in his voice spurred the group into action, a sense of rebellion fueling their movements.

"Namjoon! Boys, get back here!" The adults, voices raised in futile protest, attempted to chase after the departing group. The room erupted into a chaotic scene as the seven friends made a daring escape. The Quadravicar, their trusty steed, stood ready, its sleek form ready for the impending departure. With a swift motion, they mounted the vehicle, narrowly evading the grasp of pursuing fathers, as the Quadravicar surged forward with the speed of galloping horses, leaving the dissenting voices behind in the dust.

Merely moments ago, your family had readied themselves to abandon the safety of your cottage, fleeing the encroaching menace that had suddenly besieged your peaceful abode. It seemed as though fate had cruelly delivered a curse upon your doorstep, a curse that your family futilely tried to escape. As the door swung shut behind you, a dozen hooded women materialized, an ominous presence blocking your path.

"Ahvë, sē thōz klam, sēstrï," uttered a woman assumed to be the leader among the hooded ensemble, her voice echoing hauntingly across the somber scene. (translation: Hello, it's been so long, sister.)

"Why are you here?" your mother demanded, shielding you behind her while you clutched at her clothes, your fists tightening with anxiety.

"You are well aware of my purpose," replied the woman cryptically. "I come bearing a proposition."

"How ironic, after Lumiras of silence, now you come with a 'proposition'?" scoffed your mother, her tone laced with disdain. "I have no need of your offerings, sēstrï."

(A fusion of "Luminous" and "Era," Lumira represents ten years. It signifies periods of enlightenment and advancements in both magic and technology.)

A sly chuckle escaped the woman's lips. "Oh, but you may find it worth your while to listen."

With a deliberate motion, the woman cast aside her hood, revealing a countenance of unearthly allure—fair skin, with chiseled features, slim crimson heart-shaped lips curved in a beguiling smile, and eyes like shining emeralds. Yet beneath her beauty lurked a palpable menace, instilling fear in your heart despite her captivating facade.

"As you are aware, the royal family dispatched their most formidable military unit to apprehend you all—perhaps excluding the seemingly inconsequential human male by your side," she began, advancing purposefully toward your mother and you, each step resonating with ominous intent.

"And what do you think they'll do to you and that child of yours, given your bloodline?" she posed, her voice laden with sinister implications.

"Their declaration of a new Arcantia is nothing but an excuse to exterminate all living witches, our bloodline, simply because we've proven to be stronger and more powerful than them," the woman explained, a mocking laughter escaped her lips. "We've wounded their ego, it appears..."

Your mother narrowed her eyes, a clear defiance in her gaze. "No, it's because you're committing treason. You're seizing their land and unjustly punishing innocents who possess no magic. Your actions have invited their wrath."

Feigning weariness, the woman sighed, "You are naive and blindly loyal to those who would betray you. You've forgotten how closely you've approached an enemy patiently biding their time."

Now orbiting you and your parents, she condescendingly mused, "Normalcy is a luxury denied to us, given our bloodline. Yours is a life destined for anything but the ordinary."

"And your talk of treason is but a veil," she continued. "I seek only to reveal our true nature as witches, among the most formidable entities in existence, to those who would subjugate us. The time has come for them to bow to our supremacy."

"These lands was once ours—do you not remember?"

Indignant, your mother argued, "Yes, those lands was once ours, but history has unfolded, and we must adapt. Your actions only validate their fears, pushing them to extremes."

To this, the woman responded, "Adaptation is a luxury you cannot afford, ensconced in your delusions. Our roots run deep, and reclaiming what is rightfully ours necessitates drastic measures."

Your mother furrowed her brows in disagreement, "This is not the way. We can't stoop to their level. It's not who we are."

She furrowed her brow in frustration. "You know, you speak of treason, yet it is you who have betrayed our kind, aligning with our adversaries," she accused.

She then sighs with an air of indifference, beginning to walk away from you and your parents. "Well, it's too late now..."

Your mother's head shook in a plea. "No, it's not too late—please, Veranōthi."

(A female name in Astrithian meaning "beauty of night". The overall pronunciation would be: "Vay-rahn-aw-thee.")

At the mention of her name, Veranōthi halted, her posture stiffening. She emitted a mocking chuckle. "You remain unchanged, Sorëi," she muttered with a derisive tone.

(A female name in Astrithian meaning "heaven's light". "Sorëi" is pronounced as "saw-ray.")

With a thoughtful lift of her head, she contemplated for a brief moment. Veranōthi then pivoted back towards your family, before morphing into a narrowed gaze with a sinister gleam. "As I was saying, you've been branded as traitors..."

"And so now, you have two choices, as my proposition: align with us or face dire consequences at the hands of your 'allies'—or I could rid you or your abomination child myself," she proposed, a cruel smile curling on her lips.

"She is but a child, devoid of fault. Have you no mercy?" implored your mother.

"She defies the natural order, a product of forbidden magic." Veranōthi retorted. "You meddled with forces best to be left alone, bringing forth one who should have remained in the realm of shadows—An anomaly that challenges the very fabric of existence."

"She is my daughter, and I am a mother—a mother who would defy the heavens for her child," your mother asserted resolutely. "A sentiment you, devoid of such maternal bonds, cannot comprehend."

The tension thickened as the confrontation reached its climax, the air heavy with the weight of impending choices and irreparable consequences.

"I trust you haven't forgotten I am not one to entertain indecision. Sentiment holds no sway here. Choose wisely," Veranōthi warned, her voice tinged with impatience. "It's quite simple, you see..."

"You claim motherhood... wouldn't you desire to witness your child flourish into a powerful witch among us? Joining forces with me and our kind is the logical path forward," she urged, attempting to persuade your mother.

"And consider the vast potential we could unlock with our combined magic, alongside your child," she added with a smirk.

Your mother seemed momentarily swayed, her brows furrowing in contemplation. Sensing her hesitation, your father intervened. "Sorëi, do not heed her words. They are but lies meant to deceive."

Veranōthi's expression soured at your father's rebuttal, and with a swift gesture, her hand illuminated with magic. "Silence, mortal," she hissed, casting an enchantment that caused your father's lips to seal as if stitched together.

His eyes widened in realization, and your mother, cognizant of the sorcery at play, lifted her gaze, alarmed by the silent coercion. "Don't you dare use your magic on my husband!"

"Fëstöl." Your mother says with enchantment, gracefully waving her hand in the air illuminating her hand with her own magic, undoing the magically coercion done by her fellow witch.

(translation: unbind. "Fëstöl" is pronounced as "fay-stohl". pronounce "stohl," where "st" is pronounced as in English, and "öl" is pronounced like "aw" in "saw.")

Your mother then shifts her eyes to Veranōthi with seriousness. "You can try push your limits with your magic on the royal family and other humans Veranōthi, but I will not allow it on my family."

"There is a line you do not cross, and I am warning you."

Veranōthi begins to giggle then morphs into a laughing then a manic laugh. "You must be joking. Are you threatening me, Sorëi?"

"You—out of all people. An Ëzaraulthi?" She continues to laugh.

(Ëzaraulthi are witches who dedicate themselves to the benevolent use of magic, focusing on healing, medicine, and protection)

"I could never humor you. I guess you must forgetting that Ëzaraulthi are ones who will protect by any means neccesary, even if it means duelling with her own kind. Something we're all familiar, don't you think?"

"Do not kid yourself Sorëi, you're outnumbered." The emerald eyes hardening towards your mother.

Your mother smirks with a tilt of her head. "You're also forgetting, I'm a part of the Thallörin, as an Aroshëra."

(Thallörin is a governing body that unites the most adept witches from each coven, suggesting a group that possesses profound knowledge and influence within the mystical realms of Astrithian culture, it is pronounced as "Thahl-aw-reen."

Aroshëra term for the most expert healer within the governing body of adept witches, known for their ability to mend both physical and magical wounds, and expertise in protection magic and defense with light magic.)

Veranōthi loses her smile, into a frown. "Fine, have it your way. Your doom is now here."

Suddenly, the tranquil ambiance shattered as a rain of pure iron arrows descended upon your group. Gasps echoed through the air as the witches, including your family, recoiled at the unexpected assault. Iron, a notorious weakness for witches, posed an imminent threat, casting an unsettling shadow over the battlefield.

However, the unexpected twist wasn't limited to the iron arrows. The royal military elite wielded a peculiar device—a compact contraption emitting a high-frequency sound. The resonating waves temporarily immobilized the witches, leaving them vulnerable to the approaching soldiers.

Chaos erupted as the clash unfolded. Your father, despite being human, demonstrated remarkable combat skills, engaging in a dance of blades with the royal military elite. Magic surged through the air as your mother and the remaining witches retaliated, a symphony of spells colliding against the iron-clad attackers.

Veranōthi's commanding voice pierced through the chaos. "They're using iron! Cowards, kill these humans, sisters! Kill them all!"

Amidst the chaos, Veranōthi's eyes bore into your mother's, the weight of years of animosity palpable. "Don't you see, they're finding our weakness and trying to kill us. It's either them or us."

Your mother, undeterred, raised her hands, creating a shimmering barrier that deflected a barrage of magical attacks. "There is strength in mercy, and wisdom in finding common ground. We are all bound by the threads of magic; there must be a way to end this without plunging into the abyss."

Veranōthi scoffed, her expression hardening. "You're naive, Sorëi. Our survival depends on our ability to eradicate those who seek to subjugate us. To show mercy now is to court destruction."

As the battle raged on, you watched your mother, determined to protect both sides from unnecessary casualties, her gaze swept across the battlefield, assessing the toll of the conflict. The witches—albeit wounded, writhed in pain, fueled by desperation and the fear of annihilation, unleashed a torrent of magical prowess, while the air was thick with the acrid scent of burnt magic.

In the distance, your father continued his valiant struggle against the military elite, his combat skills proving formidable, while your mother attempted to reason with Veranōthi.

Unable to ignore the urgency of the situation, your mother's voice rose above the chaos. "Cease this madness! Our powers are formidable, but so is the cost of this unrestrained violence. We can end this conflict without further bloodshed."

Veranōthi, unyielding, countered, "Bloodshed is the language of war, Sorëi. Do not delude yourself into thinking otherwise."

"Even in war, there's room for mercy. We can find a compromise that spares both our kind and theirs."

As the two sides clashed, a surge of magical energy enveloped Veranōthi. She channeled her power, creating dark ethereal tendrils that snaked through the air, seeking to ensnare the military elite. The soldiers, caught off guard by the sudden onslaught, struggled against the mystical bonds.

Your mother seized the opportunity, her eyes ablaze with determination. "This is not the path we should tread. There is a choice beyond this carnage."

Veranōthi's response was a defiant laugh, echoing across the battlefield. "Choices are but illusions, Sorëi. We are bound by destiny, and our destiny is to triumph over those who would oppress us."

Just then, a realization dawned upon your mother. The witches, driven by a relentless desire for vengeance, were no longer open to reason. She grappled with the realization that sometimes, the pursuit of peace required confronting the harsh realities of war. The battle had escalated beyond control, and she knew that a more decisive action was necessary to prevent further devastation.

With a focused gaze, your mother directed her magic towards the magical bonds Veranōthi had woven. The dark ethereal tendrils began to unravel, releasing the military elite from their magical restraints. As the soldiers regained their freedom, Veranōthi's expression twisted into a mixture of fury and disbelief.

"You would betray your own kind for these oppressors?" Veranōthi accused, her voice laced with bitterness.

Your mother met Veranōthi's gaze unwaveringly. "I seek not betrayal but understanding. We can coexist without perpetuating this cycle of hatred and violence."

The military elite, now liberated, regrouped with renewed determination. Your father, displaying an astonishing level of prowess, fighting against them. The battleground shifted, no longer a standoff between witches and your family but a united front against the oppressive forces of the royal family.

Veranōthi, unwilling to concede defeat, unleashed a wave of destructive magic. The earth trembled beneath the onslaught, and a torrent of energy surged towards your mother and the allied forces.

With a swift motion, your mother conjured a protective barrier, shielding the group from the impending onslaught. "This ends now, Veranōthi. We can create a world where magic is not a weapon but a force for unity."

The battle raged on, the clash of magic and steel echoing through the night. The air crackled with energy as both sides pushed their limits, each moment carrying the weight of a decision that would shape the future.

As Veranōthi's eyes suddenly glowed with an ominous light, a shiver ran down your spine, and the air seemed to grow heavy with an unsettling energy. Your mother, catching sight of this eerie transformation, couldn't hide the fear that widened her eyes. "Veranōthi, what are you doing!?" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with concern.

"Since you don't want to make the tough decision, I will make it for you. Ëzal vruunithi, kethir shalnith vroha, uzin gathithi," she intones in the archaic Astrithian tongue, her voice distorting with each syllable.

(translation: "I call upon this mother energy, giving me strength")

Your mother's eyes widen in horror as Veranōthi's sinister powers surge, setting her fingertips ablaze with an otherworldly energy. The dark magic courses through her, and with an abrupt turn, her gaze locks onto you. A small figure, cowering behind wooden wagons that offer meager protection from the escalating chaos, suddenly becomes the focal point of Veranōthi's malevolent intent.

Veranōthi's arms weave intricate patterns in the air, casting spells that propel her magic toward you without warning. Time seems to slow as the ethereal bullets of energy hurtle towards your defenseless form.

Unbeknownst to both you and Veranōthi, your mother, fueled by an unyielding maternal love, charges forth in a desperate attempt to shield you from the imminent threat hurtling your way. Recognizing the potent enchantment the moment it escaped Veranōthi's lips, she comprehends the perilous nature of her chosen course.

Blocking may prove futile, and deflecting the dark magic poses its own challenges, so she makes the heart-wrenching decision to absorb the brunt of the attack. As a light magic user, such absorption could prove detrimental, but as your mother, she's willing to make that sacrifice for your survival.

As the seconds dwindled, your mother, defying the constraints of time, positioned herself just in the nick of it. She gestured swiftly, intending to deflect and absorb the magic, but miscalculations led her to absorb the full force of Veranōthi's dark energies. The impact propels her backward, slamming against the wooden wagon before landing roughly in front of you.

In your distress, you find yourself scrambling towards your mother, who lay sprawled before you, battered by the force of the dark incantation.

"Mother!" you wail, your eyes welling up with tears as you approach, desperate to render aid, though the gravity of the situation seems beyond your young capabilities. Making you torn between a desperate desire to help and the harsh reality that there may be little you can do.

Veranōthi's satisfaction lingered in the air, her dark powers momentarily appeased by the release of the potent spell. A triumphant sneer adorned her face as she surveyed the scene. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you beheld your mother's frail form, fading under the weight of her injuries.

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream shatters the air. With a sickening twist of your neck, you behold a ghastly scene: your father, battered and bloodied, kneels before two of the royal family's elite soldiers.

One plunges his sword deep into your father's abdomen, the steel emerging slick with crimson. The other, with a cruel gleam in his eye, raises his blade for a decapitating strike. As the blade arcs downward, it meets flesh with a sickening thud, separating your father's head from his body. Blood gushes forth in a grotesque fountain, drenching the ground in a pool of crimson horror.

Your heart raced as despair gripped you, but resolve surged within. Your parents' lives hung in the balance, and you would not allow them to perish without a fight.

In a surge of unknowable power, you bellowed, "Stop!" Dark blue magical energy radiated from within you, slicing through the air like a spectral blade. The arcane force engulfed all in its path—witches and soldiers alike. Those touched by the magic found themselves ensnared by an otherworldly fire, immune to any attempt at extinguishing it, save for the one who had summoned it—none other than you.

Yet, the remaining witches, including the cunning Veranōthi, exhibited a combination of skill and luck. They swiftly conjured a magical barrier, shielding themselves from the lethal flames that devoured their comrades. The unlucky few screamed in agony as they succumbed to the relentless blaze, their demise haunting the air with the stench of burning flesh.

The gruesome spectacle dawned upon Veranōthi with a sudden realization. You, the summoner of this inferno, were the Zalvokraël of their time. A choice loomed before her: to slay you in your vulnerable state as you attempted to tend to your mother or to spare you, recognizing the potential you held—the makings of the most powerful witch. Persuading you to join their cause could prove invaluable, and after a contemplative moment, she chose the latter.

"Sisters, our task here is complete. I sense a group approaching. Let us depart immediately," she commands, and with traces of glowing magic subtly left behind, they vanish into the air.

However, you pay no heed to the burning bodies, your focus solely on your mother. "Mother..." Your voice quivers, tears finally falling from your cheeks.

Her weary but loving eyes met yours, and she managed a gentle lip-smile. "Fear not, my child. I chose this fate to ensure your survival. You must carry on from this point forward."

The air hung heavy with sorrow as you cradled your mother, her life slipping away like grains of sand through your desperate fingers. "I don't know if I can go on without you," you whispered, the weight of the impending loss settling upon your shoulders.

With a weakening hand, she touched your cheek. "You are strong, my love. The power within you, it will guide you. Embrace it, and remember, I will always be a part of you." Her voice wavered but held an underlying strength.

The battlefield lay strewn with the aftermath of the clash, the acrid scent of burning magic permeating the air. As the last embers of the magical fire dwindled, leaving behind scorched remnants, you clung to the fading warmth of your mother's presence.

In the distance, a Quadravicar approached. Your mother's breaths grew shallower, her life force slipping away. "Mother, please, don't leave me," you pleaded, desperation and grief intertwining in your voice.

She drew you closer, her breaths becoming faint whispers. "Listen closely, my child. Your path ahead is uncertain, but within you lies a power that can shape destinies. Find allies, trust in yourself, and remember, love is a force that transcends even the darkest of times."

A solemn silence enveloped the battlefield as your mother's eyes dimmed, her final words echoing in your heart. Then, a distant yet hurried echo of light footsteps resonated through the desolate air, piercing the eerie silence that hung heavy over the charred remnants of a once serene landscape.

"Y/N!" The call reached your ears, a familiar voice cutting through the haunting aftermath of destruction. You recognized it instantly.

"Y/N, where are you?" The urgent cries continued, pulling your attention away from the heart-wrenching scene that surrounded you. Your tear-blurred eyes strained to focus, but you knew those voices belonged to your dearest seven friends. Against all odds, they had returned for you.

"Y/N!" Their collective voices rose, echoing through the night as they desperately scanned the tragic tableau for your presence.

As one of them spotted you, his eyes lit up with joy. "Guys! I found her, she's right there! Y/N!"

Tears of relief mingled with the sorrow streaming down your cheeks as all seven of them sprinted toward you. "Y/N!"

They reached you, their frantic expressions shifting from worry to joy. However, as their eyes fell upon the devastation around you, their elation turned to disbelief. Your mother lay lifeless amidst the charred ruins.

Jungkook and Jimin sank to their knees beside her, shock and despair etched across their faces. They had been the closest to your mother, and the weight of grief bore down on them. "Amahra…"

"I'm sorry," you whispered. It wasn't your fault, yet guilt clung to you like a shadow, a child ensnared in the tragedy and horrors of war.

Namjoon took a deep breath, his eyes welling with tears as he approached you. "It's not your fault, Y/N."

"She tried to save me," you muttered, your lip quivering as you met Namjoon's gaze with tearful eyes. The dam finally broke, and you sobbed, collapsing into Namjoon's comforting embrace.

The rest of them, too, shared in your silent grief. Quiet sobs and sniffles intermingled with the palpable sorrow among you all. They may have considered your parents as their own, and your parents may have embraced them as their own children, but the depth of your grief was incomprehensible to them.

In the midst of the mourning, an air of somber determination settled over Namjoon's features. "We need to leave this place. It's not safe here."

The others nodded in agreement, their expressions grim. Jungkook and Jimin reluctantly tore themselves away from your mother's lifeless form, their eyes swollen with tears. The group huddled together, forming a protective circle around you.

As you clung to Namjoon, the reality of the situation began to sink in. Your home, once a sanctuary, now lay in ruins. The stars overhead bore witness to the tragedy, their distant gleam offering no solace.

Your group moves forward, navigating the desolate landscape with a heavy heart. Moonlight filtered through the sparse clouds, casting an ethereal glow on the devastated world around you.

A/N: thank you for reading! <3333 the main reason i wrote this intro was to give some insight into the kind of character Y/N (you, the reader) will be later in the story, based on the past Y/N suffers from. it also helps to lay the groundwork for future scenes and establish the kind of friendship you have with the boys from the beginning.

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nyxx-nth · 4 months

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Ashamed to admit that just now when Cannibal by Kesha came on my brain immediately created a celebrity au where Jimmy is a controversial music artist and a string of high profile celebrity murders been happening lately….

Oh no wait, now I’m thinking of an entire au with other chars too—

Ghost is also a musical artist, being the lead singer in a band with Spooker, Colon, and Katrina (it used to be Ghost, Toast, and Katrina but a big fallout happened before any of them rose to fame that led to Toast leaving back to England and eventually becoming a model). I imagine Katrina as bassist, Spooker on drums, and Colon on guitar. Ghost used to be drummer, and Toast guitarist and lead vocalist, but Ghost took over vocals after his departure and Colon took over for Toast, with Spooker being a very last minute addition by chance when they heard how good he was and Katrina convinced Ghost having someone else on drums would leave him more time to focus on vocals and writing. Also, I feel like all of them would sing but Ghost is the one who sings most of the songs (also he can scream crazy good and I stand by that (also it’s hot af lmao)). Colon probably had mild experience in singing but has improved a lot since then, and Spooker had NO natural or learned singing skills going into the band and is still not quite up to par with his bandmates, but he’s improved /so/ much.

Toast would probably do modeling cuz, duh. But also he writes books and a lot of people won’t give them a chance because they think he’s just a pretty face but he’s actually a talented writer of supernatural mysteries. Also, more recently he got into acting and blew up on the big screen and prefers the acting gigs because he feels like he gets to showcase more of his skills and get more appreciation for them than he got in modeling.

Gavin probably is a stunt double for Toast. Besides that, I see him probably being Jimmy’s dealer (Jimmy does copious amounts of drugs he is never not on cocaine idk what to tell u /hj). He prefers to keep out of the actual spotlight of celebrity lifestyle, and instead reap his own benefits from it in the background.

Mary. Hmmm….. I feel like she needs something that’s not like, typical spotlight celebrity. I remember a certain someone (wink wink) talking about ballerina Mary… I think that’s actually perfect. She’s a skilled and renowned ballerina, but also, I think she figure skates. And does some modeling on the side—maybe how she met Toast? I’ll have to think more on it.

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mimicmockingbirds · 4 months

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Yellowjackets - Werewolves HCs

I know absolutely no one asked for this, but I'm missing the Yellowjackets crew, and I've been binging a horror media all week, so here are my loose ideas for a werewolf AU as inspired by this post

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Van & Taissa:

Obviously Van is the first one to turn, having been attacked by a rival werewolf during her side-quest with Tai, Mari, Akilah, and Misty like in the show

Tai also gets bitten in the process of helping Van heal/deal with her first transformation

From there, they spread the curse to the rest of the group, making them the leading alpha pair by proxy of "creating" the rest of the pack like alpha-parent pairs in the wild

Van struggles with the leadership role, considering herself more of a follower than a leader when in human form

Tai leans into it, being a natural leader in human form; although, since it was her idea to go on the side-quest that got Van bitten to begin with, she is more cautious when it comes to making decisions

Tai also gets more protective of the group as a whole, often herding them or biting their scruffs to keep them in place (i.e. safe) from rival wolves

Shauna:

Instantly embraces having a bigger, physically stronger body as a wolf

Uses it to unleash all of the compartmentalized anger and aggression she carries in human form, making her the most snappish of the group, bordering on feral

Consequently, she really struggles to submit to Tai and Van as the alpha pair, often testing their patience by trying to go off on her own or stealing scraps of their food

Has a lot of nicks on her body from Taissa constantly having to correct her behavior

Jackie:

The complete opposite as Shauna; she absolutely hates having a second body and the strangeness of having to navigate it

Is the most resistant to change in general, so her transformation process is particularly difficult

Stays in her human form as much as possible; only really shifts when there's conflict among the other wolves and they need a mediator to calm things down (especially because it's usually started by Shauna)

Since she's in human form so often, her social standing in the team/pack starts to decline, making her more submissive and subdued

Natalie:

Is resistant to the change at first, as she is resistant to the supernatural in general

Gradually starts to embrace having a wolf side when it proves useful in hunting/providing for the others

Starts to thrive because wolves naturally communicate via actions, which she prefers as someone who was raised on volatile emotions rather than rational words

Sometimes stays in wolf form just to vibe and show her affection for others, clambering on top of them or licking their muzzles when she's in a good mood

Mostly reverts to human form when she's upset, because it's easier to hide her emotions that way (although it quickly becomes a sign in and of itself that she's in a poor mood)

Misty:

Is absolutely enthralled with having a new, bigger body with better senses and strength

She is still the smallest of the group, so she compensates by being very vocal as a wolf, constantly yipping or howling

Shifts between human and wolf the most often, usually at random, because she does still value having human qualities when she needs to play group medic

As a human, she lacks a lot of social awareness for boundaries; as a wolf, that becomes even worse

Constantly inserts herself into others' personal space, butting her head or muzzle against theirs to see what they're doing or where they're going; consequently, she receives a lot of corrective behavior from the others, like nips to the ear or base of her tail

It works for about 5 seconds, then she's right back in their space

Laura Lee:

Absolutely hates shifting

Still views the entire situation of being stranded, and now forced to deal with transformations into another body, as some form of divine punishment

Like Jackie, mostly keeps to her human form whenever possible, and shifts only to play mediator when the others need it

However, unlike Jackie, her social standing doesn't suffer, since she has status by proxy of being friends with the likes of Van and Lottie

Lottie:

Is disorientated by the transformation process at first, wondering whether it's another symptom of her mental illness or withdrawal from her meds

Eventually accepts it, and is even comforted that she's not the only one suffering from strange phenomena for once

Due to her acceptance to change and the unknown, she is able to shift the most easily from one body to the other

She's the most attuned to the Wilderness as a human, so she has the best senses as a wolf; starts to accompany Natalie on hunts, wherein she tracks down the prey for Nat to kill

Is very anxious, so she is often scratching or grooming herself; her fur gets patchy around her paws from licking them so much

Builds a closer friendship with Natalie (from hunting together) and Van (for gifting her the bone-necklace), so they try to console her anxious habits, either by laying next to her or directly on top of her to keep her still

Travis:

Only embraces the change when Natalie does, especially since it proves so useful in hunting

Despite being a bigger size than the girls, he has the lowest social standing, since he was never officially on the team and thus, is considered an outsider to the instinctive pack dynamic

Mostly hovers at a distance from the girls during any gathering; however, he only exhibits outwardly submissive behavior like lowered ears and a tucked-in tail towards Van and Taissa, since they're the official alpha pair

Prefers to flee rather than fight during conflicts amongst the pack, only becoming aggressive when his hunting partners (Nat and Lottie) are involved

#Yellowjackets #Van Palmer #Taissa Turner #TaiVan #Shauna Shipman #Jackie Taylor #Natalie Scatorccio #Misty Quigley #Laura Lee #Lottie Matthews #LottieNat #Travis Martinez #random rambling #I want to write this fic but alas #I have three other WIPs to finish first dfdfkjsd;#so for now; just have headcanons #these characters are just so fun to put into new situations/AUs

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sleepyfan-blog · 17 days

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Breakfast

Author's note: this is the next part of Mer-Joth's journey in the Celestial Seas AU. First. Previous. Celestial Seas Masterlist.

tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34

warnings: none, please ask me to tag something if it bothers you/I missed something

Summary: You and mer-Joth wake up, and he makes you breakfast

You awake to a recently familiar and deeply comforting sound. It was a deep, bassy sound that was sometimes almost sub-vocal for you. It was accompanied by a pleasant rumble that buzzed through your bones. A small smile appears on your face as you yawn and stretch. You then open your eyes and try to roll over to kiss your very large “pillow”.

You get a warning chuff and a gentle “stay still. I am braiding your hair.” From the mer-Astartes you’d pondered to several months ago. Joth had been quite the surprise, but he had settled fairly comfortably into your life, as far as you could tell.

You smile and murmur”Alright then. I did want to give you a good morning kiss, but if you-”

Joth leaned around you, pouting a little, his distinctive facial scars highlighted by the early morning light “Kiss please!” He asked, hopeful.

A grin appears on your ace as you happily kiss him on the lips, as requested. You nuzzle comfortably into him, after. You’re curious what the braids he is weaving your hair into will look like, but you’re also content to let him braid at his own pace. You try to encourage him when he tries new things, as the large, armored mer was surprisingly tentative when it came to learning new skills.

Not much was known for certain about the different kindes of Mer-Astartes that had randomly started to appear within the seas and skies of Earth, starting roughly a hundred years ago or so, near as none could tell. Most magical beings tended to be wary of Humanity, preferring to hide away in difficult to nearly impossible places for humans to reach them. Not so for Mer-Astartes, who while some individuals were hostile or wary, many were curious and open to interacting with both humans and the native supernatural species who lived upon Earth.

You were glad that the large farm that had been handed down from family member to family member that was current in your care was far enough from most major cities and surrounded by deep forest. Your nearest neighbor was well over five miles away, which suited you just fine. The last thing you wanted was a bunch of gawking curious people staring at Joth as the large mer went about his day. You weren’t sure that he would tolerate that very well.. And while he’d gotten better over the past couple of months, his initial startle response tended to be violence, or a terrifying threat display.

There was a wild river that cut through the northern edge of your property that was apparently both wide and deep enough for Joth to be happy to swim in regularly. He also liked hunting a great deal - and you’d been sure to get him the proper fishing and hunting licenses that the local government insisted were necessary for him, not wanting Joth to possibly get into trouble with the law.. Joth always brought back his kills to show to you, pleased by them and eager to share with you. You’d showed him how to clean the kills of the animals he’d hunted once each and the mer had happily taken to doing so. He’d started learning how to cook for you as well, determined to be a good provider.

You found it very sweet, though kind of unnecessary - you’d been entirely self-sufficient most of your adult life, and learned what you didn’t know as you came across it in one way or another… But you could also tell that the desire to protect and provide for you was an instinct that was deeply woven not Joth, and… It was nice to have an extra set of hands around the farm, and another voice to talk to.

“Finished, love. Thank you for staying still.” Joth murmured, a smile in his voice as he pressed a gentle kiss to first one side, then the other side of your neck affectionately.

You smile in response, reaching up one hand to gently caress his jaw in reciprocal affection “thank you, Joth.” You yawn and stretch again before getting up, to start the day “Ready to help me feed the animals? Or would you rather nap or do something else?”

“I will make breakfast! Been practicing at base.” Joth answers with a hopeful grin. His command over your native language is getting better. It’s impressive how fast he’s learning.

You’ve been able to pick up some words and phrases in what you’re fairly sure is his native language. You’re also looking forward to breakfast. “Sure thing, love. Those omelets you made last week were great.” You’d been sure to stock up on astartes-grade food, keenly aware of how many calories a being as big as Joth had to eat in order to sustain himself.

Joth insisted that he could eat nearly anything, but you didn't want to test that. He’d sulked a little at your caution… Until he realized that it was because you were worried for him, rather than thinking he was weak or whatever it was that he’d falsely gotten into his head about it.

The World Eater preened at your praises “Omelets will be part of breakfast. The rest is a surprise!”

You nod, finishing getting dressed for the day and give him another kiss, this time on the cheek, as Joth is still laying in bed. “See you in a little bit. Have fun making breakfast!”

When you return to the dining room, Joth is carefully placing several plates and bowls in the middle of the table.

“Need a hand?” You ask. The food smells incredible and looks good from what you can see of the dishes.

“These are the last ones. Drink in pitch in the fridge. Please grab?” Joth answers, smiling warmly down at you, his dark eyes shining with determination and hope.

You nod and grab the pitcher - filled with freshly made apple juice from the color and scent of the contents. “Here we go. All of this looks and smells amazing, thank you, Joth.” You give him a kiss on the cheek as you walk over to the open seat, taking in the impressive breakfast spread, reaching for a thin and golden-brown stack of flatbread.

Joth eagerly explains what each of the dishes and dips he had made for you to sample are - leaving out just where it was he had learned of them. S0me of the dips were sweet and spicy, others were tangy and cooling. The lightly fried vegetables were delightfully crunchy and the meat had been cooked perfectly. Some of the flat-breads were a little charred, but that was par for the course with flatbread.

You give him earnest praise over everything he’s made, finding yourself in the large mer’s lap fairly quickly, giving him thankful kisses for the delicious foods.

#celestial seas au #world eater #oc: joth #adeptus astartes x reader #reader insert #warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #space marine husbandry #my writing

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namelessbutters-doodles · 5 months

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Dr. Love, 18+ Mdni

Characters : Paul Stanley, Ace Frehley, Gene Simmons.

Pairing : Stardemon/ Spacedemon/ Starspacedemon

Setting: ????

Au: N/A

Summary: ‘’Do you trust us?’’ Ace asked, Gene stopped. Wanting to hear, he leans back up.

‘’What?’’

‘’I said, do you trust us?’’ Ace asked, again. Seriously, which Paul answered…

‘’Yes…always…..Why?’’ Paul answered, a bit confused on why Ace would ask that knowing he trusted him with a lot of things he wouldn’t trust anyone with. He knew Gene for the longest time since the early days of wicked Lester, staying with him throughout it all when that band broke up thus starting another that led to Meeting the strange jendellian he came to know and love…

Ace, only coming in with two different sneakers and an attitude that used to bother the hell out of but he loved it like how he loved Ace for being his true self around him without a care in the world, bringing bits of Paul’s true self out too…

Opening up, like Gene did to him.

Peeling away the hard shell then softening and smoothing out the new one, making him feel like a…

True Shining star.

__________

⚠️Warnings: Spanking, Cum inflation, Creampie, Anal sex, Rough sex, Degradation, insults, praising ,threesomes, hole gaping, cum feeding, food sex kind of, crying, comfort, gentle sex, Aftercare, blood, marks, bruises, supernatural elements, nudity, sexual positions, Dumbification, sudrop, ending with a twist, Ask to tag.

Comments and Reblogs, are Deeply Appreciated!

AlsoonA03

‘’HhnngHa~!’’

‘’So vocal.’’ Ace hummed, holding Paul tightly against his body. Stroking his head and gently rubbing down his back while Gene went crazy from the behind. Thrusting deeply inside with the poor with a force of a bull, pounding against his prostate madly while Ace was holding Paul and caressing him. Praising him, telling sweet nothings as Gene jackhammered deeper and more faster than ever before. Eventually, slamming into him which made Paul cry out from the brutal hit. ‘’And angelic too.’’

‘’Soo angelic, our little songbird.’’ Gene chuckled, thrusting slowly now. Listening into those mewls of Paul and those breaths of Ace when he spoke to him in a seductive voice that erupted from the spaceman that made him more Firey and desperate as time went on. Reveling in the compliments, those touches that Ace left on Paul’s head and back, the way he looked at him with a look of a god sent shocks throughout Gene’s body. Made him grip Paul’s asscheeks, licking his lips deviously. ‘’So…Angelic…Right Paul?’’ Gene asked, his nails digging into the bruised skin. Almost making it bleed, Paul shivered.

‘’ohhhh….’’

Breathing out into Ace’s neck, he mumbled quietly. Mewling out some incoherent words, hiding his face from the world as the demon and spaceman made vibrant love to him with their words, kisses and their bodies. Tightening his grip around Ace’s neck, holding him closer. Ace smiled, letting his hand stay on Paul’s hair for a little longer than usual. Knowing how much he becomes vulnerable and sometimes embarrassed from how loud he is or being naked, letting him and Gene take him in ways like no other. Granting him unmanageable pleasures, going on dates with each other like the movies, restaurants and occasionally having a night of letting go…

Just like this one.

Touching all over his body with their hands and mouths, their fingers going on or in him. Twisting or playing him like an instrument, tuning him so they can be able to be played, then putting him out on stage so he can perform like the beautiful starchild he was so he can sing his heart like the bright star he was to everyone and to them.

Showering him with love he craved and desired, they decided to give him a night where he can feel it for real..

Like always.

‘’He’s enjoying himself?’’ Gene grinned, bending down. Touching Paul’s back with his body, nearing Paul's ear. Hearing those hot breaths coming from out of those luscious lips, hardening Gene’s cock. Clearly hearing the noises that he and Ace are getting out of Paul, he rutted slowly inside the fleshy walls there were clenching around that cock of his as he prodded the prostate with a light tap. Paul hitched his breath, stomach coiled.

‘’Definitely.’’ Ace answered, leaning his face towards Gene. They both kissed, their tongues intertwined with one another, slithering and slathering all over each other like snakes. Closing their mouths as saliva began to spread, nibbling each other's lips. Their tongues exploring each other’s mouths, deepthroating each other. Gene planted his hand on Paul’s while the other caressed Ace’s face.

The light from the moon glistened on their naked bodies, sweat dripping from them as Gene held Ace’s face in his hands, smooching him deeply and rocking back and forth inside Paul. massaging his insides, gripping his hand. Giving both of his lovers some dr. love, tasting some of the finests things in Ace’s esophagus, going deeper and deeper while Ace twirled his tongue around Gene’s.

Tasting some of him too, his hand went into Gene’s hair. Yanking, pulling Gene closer to him as the heats inside them got more and more like a furnace. Their cocks became more stiff and leaking precum as Paul moaned. Feeling Ace’s long and thin cock after only feeling Gene’s caused him to hitch his breath, urging Ace and Gene to go further and further.

Saliva dripped from their mouths, faces growing hot, skins glowing, hair all over the place. Sticking to the backs of their necks. The chest hair from Gene’s chest rubbing into Paul’s back as the demon lazily bucked his hips. Bringing out the wail of the century from Paul, arching his back and finally getting away from the depths of Ace’s neck. Interrupting the intense makeout as the two both look in awe, staring at Paul with their gaze. Hearing him, as the moon shines on his face.

Those doe like eyes opening as a single tear slid down his face, shivering. Whimpering out….

‘’Ace…Gene…’’

Their names on his lips, with a voice like an angel.

Both of them stared in silence, planting their hands on his body once again in slow motion. Roaming all over, giving his body the worship he deserves as they fuck and kiss him with there swollen lips that were oozing with saliva. Coating him with their fluids, squishing the sides of him with their hands. Running them down too, feeling the scars, bruises, and the marks they have made when they’ve gotten rough or soft with each other.

Spreading his legs, Gene thrusted. Licking Paul’s ear, then biting down on it as Ace took him in his mouth like he did with Gene and continuing to do so as The demon started to go faster once again and jackhammered into him.

‘’Gene…’’

Paul uttered out, almost separating but Ace pulled him back in as he too started to thrust. Both of their cocks sliding against each other inside at the same pace, hitting the spot that makes Paul see stars and….

‘’ACE!!!’’

Become louder, both of them plunging deeper and harder into him. Balls deep, sounds of smacking flesh intensified as Ace smooched and Gene nibbled. Making the air more steamier and thinner, as things got intense.

Hands went up to Paul’s chest, tweaking his nipples. Twisting and pinching them hard enough they’ve turned red, almost pulling at the amount of hair around them. Almost plucking them with the tips of their fingers, getting a few yelps and hitches of breaths but nonetheless some more moans in the process. Tongues licking in and out, lapping the starchild with more of their combined tastes and scents were becoming more like drugs as it intoxicated him while he breathed through his nostrils.

Fueling him, heating him up. Sweat brewed, slid and dribbled off of him and onto the heap of sheets underneath there bodies, staining it along with the array of pillows that were making them comfortable throughout the whole thing. More pleasurable like one of the hands pumping Paul's cock vigorously with ease granting him more fire to his core as Ace made love to his mouth.

His hole.

body.

Mind and…

Soul.

Opening his soul up more to them, as Gene went to his neck to nibble while the ear that was being used was leaking with blood. Leaking down his skin, making Paul shudder between them. Swallowing some of Ace’s tongue down his throat, Ace chuckled. Pressing into Paul, thrusting upwards. Playing with his cock, balls, nipples, anything his hand got. He played and twisted them as Gene suckled and pierced into that soft skin.

Making and leaving a mark behind as he licked it all up then went back suckling on it like milk, pounding away along with Ace as they made Paul squeal and moan like a bitch in heat. Striking his prostate both at the same time with a vicious speed, it was getting harder to focus and control themselves as the moans gotten addicting to hear just like those pretty little browns that were staring at Ace which…

He broke apart the kiss, Paul whined but was silenced when Ace grabbed his chin.

Looking him in the eyes, breathing his hot and musky breath on him.

The mouth full of his saliva spilling out from the sides brought a moan out within Ace, leaning close to his lover. Hearing Gene grunt and growled, the bed creaking, smacking flesh and everything around them became silence as day. The stars glimmering up in the night sky, while the light flickered in the background while Paul shakily breathed, both of their eyes trembling, hearts racing, cores being overruned….

Everything was too much yet…

It was exhilarating.

‘’Do you trust us?’’ Ace asked, Gene stopped. Wanting to hear, he leans back up.

‘’What?’’

‘’I said, do you trust us?’’ Ace asked, again. Seriously, which Paul answered…

Opening up, like Gene did to him.

Peeling away the hard shell then softening and smoothing out the new one, making him feel like a…

True Shining star.

A shining star that brightened up each time they were together, bringing a smile to Paul’s face as he responded again, clearly this time.

‘’Yes, Always. But, why?’’ He Responded, his lisp coming out a little.

In which Ace chuckled, grinning. Sitting up, fixing his position. Sitting with Paul in his lap, holding him as Gene fixed his position while the two of them sandwich him gently. Ace’s hands went around Paul’s waist, embracing him close enough to him. Nails scratching him lightly, as he sniffed up the lavender mixed in with vanilla scent directly up to his nostrils. Inflaming him with Paul’s scent as Gene moves swiftly yet carefully.

His hand reaches for the radio near the nightstand, turning up the music that would enhance this experience more while Paul is distracted, seeing a wicked glint in Ace’s eyes knowing what he’s planning for their dear beloved. Setting the music up to mid settings, picking up the remote controller, dimming the lights down so much the only thing that was bright was the moon outside gleaming with all the stars.

Reflecting through the windows and the eyes of the starchild who’s looking at Ace with such an angelic presence it was maddening, adding more heat to the fire and their minds as Gene turned back to his lovers, dropping the remote controller between the sheets. Moving Paul’s legs on Ace’s shoulder’s while the man was distracted, Putting his arms under Paul’s armpit.

Securing them with a dark chuckle, as he and Ace went off the Bed with the man in their arms, standing at the edge of the bed. The moon shining on them, their cocks pulsating, leaking precum, hearts beating as Paul’s hole clenches around their cocks. Ace and Gene looking at each other with looks indicating….

Of…

Memerly….

Making sure Paul wouldn’t be able to walk…

For a few days or….

Weeks.

‘’Cause, Sweetheart…’’ Gene laughed, breathing out near Paul’s ear. Feeling him shiver, against him.

‘’This place about to get…’’ Ace goes, digging his nails in the skin.

Blood dripped down the sides, going into Ace’s nails.

‘’Hotter than…’’ Gene goes, licking Paul’s ear. Tasting the blood that was still coming out from the tip that slid and dribbled down his neck, swallowing the blood as it smeared across his face.

‘’Guys….’’ Paul muttered, can’t move at all. Eyes trembling, as the two men smirked devilishly at him, while he glanced back at Gene then Ace. Completely knowing what they were going to say and what they were going to do to him, it scared yet….

Excited him.

Which they knew it did, After all they knew everything about there little Princess and were willing to make him tick and frazzled to a point of becoming a little whore in front of them. Excuse me…

There whore.

A pretty little whore he was, when that brain will be…

Fucked brutally and he’ll be mushy mess, leaking gallons of cum between his legs with a gaping hole in no time as Ace leaned in with a grin, reflecting gorgeously in Paul’s eyes in all of there glory, going to his ear. Breathing his breath in Gene’s face as they looked at each with smiles on their faces.

As the clock ticked faintly in the background, music was playing, hearts beating slowly as whispers of the demon and spaceman became apparent as day as they spoke with a low yet frightening sound in the ear of their lover, this…

At the same time.

‘’Hell in here, so princess….’’

‘’Scream….’’

‘’For us.’’

In an instant, both the men started bucking their hips, smashing their balls deep inside immediately as cheeks were starting to clap violently as the sounds of the starchild became deafening to their ears. Thrusting and rutting without a stop, hearing those squeals and cries as they pounded at Paul’s prostate.

Snarling and growling, licking up the sweat and drool from the man as they called him names while he was between them. Biting him with their sharp teeths, bite marks were being formed, breathing their hot breaths in Paul’s face, digging more of their nails into their skin as they manhandled like he was a doll.

There doll, sliding their cocks against each other inside him. Rummaging through his fleshy walls together, as tears streamed down his cheeks, screaming out obscenities that echoed throughout the room and possibly the whole building with how louder he’s becoming.

Plunging more inside of him, roughly.

He let out a wail, they hit the stop that made him see stars which encouraged them to go further.

Getting those sobs.

The whines.

Those asscheeks clappin and jiggling more.

Anything, as they started to degrade him.

‘’Fucking Whore!’’ Gene growled, Striking Paul’s prostate.

‘’AHHH!’’

‘’Are you, our whore!?!’’ Ace yelled, pounding. Legs moving, as his balls swing. Getting a high pitched moan of Paul, jackhammering. Digging his nails into him more, biting into Paul’s neck as one of his hands moved onto the right asscheek of Paul, gripping the skin and slapping it hard enough it left a handprint, moving his ass. ‘’ARE YOU!?!’’

Paul screamed, his butt getting smacked and being gripped to an extent as they slammed into him while he choked on his screams, trying to talk but couldn’t due to the absolute hits his prostate and butt was taking. Feeling the hits becoming more apparent and more rough, painting his whole ass a deep shade of red, the thrusts made his back arch a couple times as the cocks slammed into him.

‘’AH!’’ He screamed, cock leaking.

‘’ARE YOU!?!?’’ Gene screamed, tilting his hips.

‘’PA-’’

‘’YES!!! I’m a whore, your whore!!!’’ He cried, voice echoing.

‘’You love having us inside you, huh?’’ Ace Laughed, breathing heavily. ‘’Love having us inside, don’t you? You would really love it if we bent you over and fucked you like the fucking bitch you truly are, hmm~?’’

‘’I bet you’d even love it more if if we fucked you on stage, let everyone see what a disgusting Pile of shit you are too, fucking and making you sing like we are now, fucking you like the slut that you are? Hmm?’’ Gene goes, biting down.

‘’How about even using you everyday, like a fleshlight?’’ Ace hummed, hammering more harder into Paul. There cocks getting ready to blow as they degrade him more with there vicious yet hot words, licking up the tears that was streaming, the drool and the sweat off of Paul’s face and the sides of his neck. Reveling in the mess they were making, he smacked Paul’s once more. ‘’So we can fill you all up…’’

‘’Until you can’t hold it all in, letting it spill down those thick thighs of yours…’’

‘’Letting everyone know…’’

‘’That the Princess….

‘’Belongs to…’’

‘’Us.’’ They both proclaimed, proceeding to fuck Paul into a infinity as the night goes on for more than a hour like a usual. Calling him more awful things, heating them up as their stomachs coiled, manhandling him more. Leaving and creating more marks on him, as he became more sensitive and brain fucked.

Speaking into full on rambles, calling himself the names they're calling him, feeling those kisses along his skin, the smacked turning into full on groping while as felt one of them suckled on his skin, putting one of their fingers on the rim of his hole, massaging it as the thrusts became rocky and the pace was becoming out of control. As they fall into their animalistic instincts, growling viciously like beasts.

It was wild, maddening, atrocious yet….

Hot as fuck.

‘’So fucking dumb…’’

‘’Look at him, so cute…’’

‘’Are you Dumb, are you our dumb little songbird?’’

‘’Paul~.’’

‘’I’m dumb, stupid, i’m yours~.’’ Paul babbled, so messy.

‘’Aw, Your ours?’’

‘’Definit…ley…’’

He spoke, as the night…

Went on.

Three hours passed, the light was back on. The music volume was set down as it was turned off while heavily breathing was heard, the windows were being closed with curtains and the sound of spewing was apparent as Ace looked down in front of him a beautiful intoxicating sight as…

Gene fed and smeared his cum on Paul’s face, who was licking weakly While Gene spoke in a tender voice. Holding his leaking cock, stroking Paul’s head. His eyes narrowed at his lover, while Ace looked over Paul.

Looking at the buttloads amount of cum pooling out from Paul’s gaping and clenching hole between his legs, the butt that wasn’t colored before now was littered and colored in spanks while handprints were imprinted all over. Waist littered in scratches and blood, well dried blood from digging in too much were now bruised, like the neck hidden behind the hair that was sprawled out on Paul’s back as he breathed. Sobbing as Gene talked and praised him, wiping the tears away.

‘’Your so strong.’’

‘’Brave.’’

‘’Smart.’’

‘’Beautiful as a dove.’’ Gene complimented, reminding Paul how loved he was and mattered to him as he was exposed. Couldn’t move due to soreness, the rough fucking and how much they’ve done to him after hours of intense fucking. They don’t usually fuck that long but with how much Paul was looking and sounding, they couldn’t helped themselves but let him how much he makes them crave, desire and love him.

‘’And a flower.’’ Ace said, getting on the bed slowly. Avoiding Paul to not hurt as he came and slid by Gene, looking at him and then at Paul. leaning down, whispering to Paul as those cloudy eyes looked at him all wobbly. His hand going on Paul’s cheek, pecking his forehead softly. Moving the strands away and kissing his lips for a small while before separating and saying….

‘’Like a rose, Delicate rose he is.’’

‘’Yeah…’’ Gene smiled, turning to Ace.

‘’You good?’’ He asked, kindly. Examining the sweat dripping down the chest, the hips and the look in Ace’s face that was staring down Paul. Noticing the soft and gentle touches he was leaving and the eyes sparkling when they both looked at each other with such emotion, it was heavenly. His hand went on ace’s shoulder, the black hairs sticking to the sweaty hand as Gene’s own hair was poofed up all over. ‘’Ace?’’

‘’Hm?’’

‘’You good?’’

‘’Yeah…just..’’

‘’What?’’ Gene goes, leaning his head on Ace’s shoulder. Kissing him, looking up at him.

‘’Just what, Frehley?’’

Ace smiled, his other hand going up to Gene’s hair and stroking it. Giving him a kiss on the side of his cheek, tasting the sweat that was trickling down, relishing in the sweetness of the act they’ve done together tonight.

‘’I’m just…’’

‘’Just…’’

‘’Admiring the view.’’ Ace stated, turning back towards Paul. Sliding more to him, wanting to touch him badly but couldn’t. Not wanting to scare him in his state he was in, in which Gene noticed.

‘’You can touch him.’’

‘’I know…but..he’s so…’’

‘’Delicate, right now?’’

‘’Yeah.’’

‘’And you are too.’’

‘’You could say that.’’ Ace laughed, a sob came out. Gene slowly went in and hugged him, stroking his hair like Ace did to Paul and went soft on him. Letting him let go and melt in his arms completely as tears slowly streamed down his face while Gene wiped them away with a tissue, letting him cry in the privacy of the room as Paul’s hand weakly touched his knee which brought out more tears.

Crying out completely, as Gene praised him and soothed him too.

Warming his heart up, feeling a hand softly caressing his knee while the other caressed his cheek, making him too feel loved and a thing he hadn’t felt in a long time….

Safe, protected, and….

Mind Boggling…..

Emotional, too emotional as more sweet words came out, Making Ace lay in Gene’s arms while the sound of silence was slowly being taken over bit by bit as all of three of them laid there together. Holding each other in some way for a while as they needed, breathing out normally now and checking each other for any bruises, wounds, anything at least to see how much cream and bandages they needed to patch themselves after a whole hour of…

Debauchery.

In a Room, fitted for there needs and there needs only such as mental, sexual, physical and social. Laying down on a heart shaped bed, sheets sprawled all over the place with a heavy amount of pillows on the side or top. Wet or soaked with an amount of fluids, the staff may have to replace them due to how stained they are, along with the pink walls that have some essence of whiteness to them dripping down from how much cum came out of one of them.

Which Gene would gladly pay for…

Maybe.

Such as the hot tub and many things in the room that made the whole experience a whole thing to remember forever, such as the snacks in the mini fridge and the waters waiting to be picked up drink for rehydration and cool themselves after a hot time, Which Gene remembers.

Looking down at Ace and Paul, giving them a smile.

‘’Bath?’’ He asked, Paul and Ace look at each other.

Paul nodded weakly, Ace turned.

‘’Yeah, a bath would help.’’ He smiled, eyes glowing brightly like the planet deep in the milky way galaxy. Sliding next and putting Paul on him, looking down at him with that smile of his and putting his nose in those curls. Sniffing up that scent, calming himself as he wraps his arms around Paul. Hearing a slight whimper, he shushes him. The cum leaking out more from a single movement, spreading and tainting the sheets more. ‘’And Possibly, some more creams and music. And a little of…’’

He looks at Gene, touching his cheek.

Thumb smoothing across his face, almost touching those swollen lips.

Nearly touching, as Ace spoke…

‘’Dr.Love, if he’s willing to take care of us. If he doesn’t mind.’’ He said, causing Gene to shake his head and chuckle at him. Ace chuckled along too, it helped him more.

Laughter filled the air for a while until Gene gave him a kiss and got off the bed.

‘’No, I don't mind. Who’s going to be able to carry one of you after tonight.’’

‘’Obviously, Me~.’’ Ace sang, giggling.

‘’Sure spaceman, Sure.’’ Gene responded, watching Ace and Paul for a while. Seeing how naked and vulnerable they are, how they are so close to each other as Ace pets Paul’s hair while he sniffs it and mutters some few words of good to him as Paul just lays there and listen. Almost falling in that head of it seems, no matter once in the bath all of them will fly up in the sky with their heads in the clouds of dreams and each other.

Holding and embracing each other in the bath, washing themselves from the act with sweet and delicious smells of shampoo, soap and other kinds of items that will make them glow like gods for weeks on end.

Then finally, sleeping on the bed together as…

Lovers.

The thought of it brings a smile to Gene as his heart flutters thinking about it, walking to the bathroom, he glances at a plate of chocolate and vanilla covered strawberries plus bananas along with bottles of Refreshments nearby ready to be drunk, his stomach growling loudly. Wanting to eat it and savor but he instead took the plate bringing to both of his lovers who needed it the most.

Kneeling on the bed, he put the plate near Ace. Picking up a strawberry, showing it to Ace.

‘’Hungry?’’ he asked.

‘’Yes, definitely. But what about you? Aren’t you?’’

‘’A little but no-’’ Gene stomach growls, a blush formed in which Ace giggled thus taking the strawberry and placing it in front of the Demon’s lips. Gene takes it into his mouth with his long tongue, slithering around it like a snake and taking it into the threshold as it explodes once his teeth make contact with it, coating the insides of his mouth with the chocolate and vanilla. Shivering, as it became more sweetened and sugary the more he chewed and relished in the flavors of the treat.

Eventually, swallowing down his throat. Letting it go deep in his stomach, filling him up slowly as he did with the starchild. Ace picked up a few more and fed it to him, occasionally dipping it in his sweat and cum which aroused Gene but grossed him out a little once he had it in mouth yet swallowed it. Ace grinned, picking up another and swirling it around his lips.

‘’Disgusting…’’ Gene said, jokingly.

‘’And, Yet you loved it.’’ Ace grinned, plopping the strawberry into his mouth then pecking the lips before Gene left his side. ‘’You really love it.’’ Glancing at Gene’s cock that was becoming hard as wood, becoming slightly aroused.

‘’And, I enjoyed it.’’ Gene replied, walking straight to the bathroom before…

‘’Do…you need me?’’ Ace quietly asked, holding Paul against him tighter. Not wanting to leave or abandon him, also feeling the effects of the drop coming in as his eyes become hazy and droopy. Almost clouding his vision, laying his head down on the pillow. ‘’Us..Geno?’’

Gene turned, looking at the two beauties on the bed. Naked as day, glimmering like jewels and voices of angelic beings, taking in the scene slowly as the clock ticks and the music plays low from the radio. Seeing Ace’s hand trembling to his eyes, and Paul wrapping his arms around the spaceman.

Looking peaceful as night.

‘’No.’’

‘’You…sure…Genie?’’ Paul asked, weakly. Struggling to keep his eyes open for a sec, Hearing the heart of the spaceman beat musically to his ears, the hands of Ace petting him more and more as he trembled. ‘’Genie…you sure…?’’

‘’I’m sure, Starlight.’’

‘’Are you?’’

‘’Yes, I am. Taking care of both of you is what i need more than now, after all…’’ Licking his lips, the light shines on him, his golden orbs appearing out from within him as the faint sound of bats can be heard from the outside near the windows, flapping there wings as knife like fangs come out dripping with the fluids that were coated in blood, smiling widely.

The moon reflected in them.

As did his two lovers who were staring from the bed, covering themselves with a blanket as Gene turned his back on them with a smile.

‘’I’m Dr. Love.’’

Here you go, SLUTS!! This is what I've been cooking for a while and hope you are ready for dinner i've prepared while things were being busy, saw some of you in dying need of a couple who will savor and feed on for eternity and hope this would fulfills your hunger, your dying hunger! to quell the arousal in your loins and those head of yours, AH~.

Giving you the plates, here - @angelbambisworld @elrohare @starry-eyed-never-satisfied @sluttery-withoutshame @insanityisdivine

@sagii24 @spacedoutman

@ravenh37 @genesstankycodpiece

@vinniesasslicker1 @basketcasedrawings

@frehleyfreak

@2hotintheshade and anyone who happened upon who's hungry as a wolf, here you go!

You horny Gremlins!!!

Anyhow, Savor it slowly~

♡, Butters~!

#kiss #butters speaking #kiss band #kiss army #kissblr #paul stanley #gene simmons #stardemon #Paul/Ace #Gene/ace #Gene/paul #Ace/Gene/Paul #spacedemon #ace frehley #tw smut

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