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whereonceiwasfire · 5 months

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If you're game to write a cheese melt (Vlad & Dani father-daughter dynamic) ficlet, I'd love to read one. If not, that's cool :)

*vibrating with excitement* My friend. Your cheese melt art has been living rent free in my head for WEEKS. It's my sincerest pleasure to write a ficlet for this. I hope it's okay that it's an outsider POV, I just had an idea and my brain went brrrrrrr LOL

May I offer you a dysfunctional parent-teacher interview?

Parent-teacher interviews are always a nightmare, but there's one in particular that’s making Amity Middle School’s beloved Ms. Burnell sweat through her shirt. As the time slot nears, her gaze keeps flickering to the clock, her classroom door, back to her nervously interlaced fingers on the desktop.

It’s going to be fine. Perfectly fine.

“This one! Over here! Dad! This is my class!” The excited words, shouted in the syrupy sweet voice of a little girl, sets every nerve on edge, Ms. Burnell’s heart plummeting straight into the pit of her stomach.

Oh lord. Maybe it’s not going to be fine.

Her student comes bounding into the classroom, eyes bright and excited, oversized blue sweater sleeves slipping over her hands, even as she gestures emphatically for her father to follow. Black hair spills out of her ponytail, whipping across her face as she throws herself into a desk across from Ms. Burnell’s with a bright smile.

Her father, on the other hand…

The heel of his expensive Italian loafers strike against the linoleum as the man stops at the threshold of the classroom, cool gaze doing an assessing sweep of the space, expression crinkling in distaste as it does. He doesn’t say a single word, doesn’t make any move to actually step inside the classroom.

Ms. Burnell is the one who clears her throat, pushing to an awkward stand as she extends a hand out to the man.

“Hello, Mr. Masters. Thank you for making the time to come discuss your daughter’s education. I know you’re very busy.”

The man’s eyes slip to her outstretched palm, and for a motifying second, she doesn’t think he’s going to take it. When he finally does, he just gives a brief, cursory shake before swiping his palm off on his suit jacket and striding past her toward his daughter.

Ms. Burnell’s face is all kinds of warm, chest tight with embarassment as she fumbles back to her desk, trying to wrestle herself back into some kind of composure. Still, she barely looks up as she pulls out a folder with Danielle Masters scrawled across the tab.

“Dad! Dad! That one’s mine! Do you see it? Do you like it?” Danielle calls proudly, tugging on her father’s suit sleeve and pointing toward the paintings that are spread out beneath the windows to dry, paper wavy and crinkled.

“Oh, er. That’s actually a good place for us to start,” Ms. Burnell cuts in apologetically.

Mr. Masters gaze snaps from where he’d been examining his daughter’s project, over to her, brows dropped low.

“Why? Is there a problem with my daughter’s work?” The question is sharp, accusatory, and she’s pretty sure her soul shrivels up a little bit at the unguarded disdain in the man’s eyes.

Swallowing hard, sweat beading against the back of her neck, Ms. Burnell resists the urge to immediately take it back. Surely he can see the problem with the piece—isn’t going to make her say it?

It's too scary.

When his challenging gaze doesn’t waver, she forces the words out.

“Uhm. Well. It’s just. Not quite. Appropriate for a sixth grade class?” It pitches up into a question as she gestures vaguely toward Dani’s painting.

It’s a bit sloppy, the layers of paint caked upon each other, the lines hasty and uneven, but the scene itself is clear enough—a little, smiling, white-haired girl in the shadow of some kind of hulking creature, its skin blue, eyes red, sharp fangs bared as its cape flares out to take up the rest of the page.

Ms. Burnell almost set up an appointment for Danielle with the school counselor when she saw it, wondering if Dani felt like she was the little girl, trapped amongst nightmares and “monsters.” She decided against it for the time being, until she could speak with the girl’s father, but that’s proving rather unhelpful so far if the contemptuous way the man is looking at her is any indication.

“Did Danielle complete the assignment?” he asks finally.

“Uhm. Yes.”

“And adhere to the grading criteria?”

“Sh-she did,” Ms. Burnell answers reluctantly.

“Then I don’t see the problem,” he answers, finality in the words as his gaze turns to his daughter. He takes a much softer tone with her, brushing the disorderly strands of hair off her face, an absent domesticity in the way he straightens the ponytail gone lopsided. “I think you did a lovely job, dear.”

“Thank you! I used Alizarin Crimson,” she answers proudly, hair flopping right back into her eyes.

“Excellent choice.”

“Uhm. Well, there’s also the matter of Danielle’s conduct,” Ms. Burnell cuts in.

The man lets out an irritated sigh, arms crossing over his chest as he leans back against one of the desks, one ankle crossed over the other, unimpressed gaze finding Ms. Burnell once more.

“What?” he says, like it’s an inconvenience.

She swallows hard. “She’s been…uhm. Not getting along with some of the other girls.”

“That is so unfair, Mackenzie started it!” Danielle shouts abruptly, popping up to her knees on her chair, palms slapping down against the desktop.

“Well that’s not what Mack—”

The girl keeps going, cutting Ms. Burnell off.

“She said the only reason Eli agreed to play with me at recess was because Joshua dared him too, and I said nuh unh and she said yuh hunh, and I asked how she knew that, and she couldn’t even prove it, it was so obvious she was making it up!”

“Mackenzie told me that you said some pretty unkind words to her, Danielle.”

“Barely! I just said it was a bad look for her to be so jealous of me and just because she looks like she fished her outfit from the same trash bin she got her personality from isn’t any reason to be a jerk.”

Her father’s expression twists into a sharp smirk, amusement lighting his blue eyes, and Ms. Burnell thinks she’s starting to get a better sense of why Danielle is proving to be one of the most challenging students in her class this year.

“We treat people with kindness and respect in this classroom, Dani. Do you think what you said to Mackenzie was kind and respectful?”

“Well…” Dani’s gaze drops, expression pinching in thought, and Ms. Burnell thinks she might actually be getting through to her.

“It doesn’t sound as though this other girl was treating Danielle with kindness and respect,” Mr. Masters answers, the words coming out with a mocking turn, like he finds the concepts incidental at best.

“That’s true. She did start it,” Dani reasserts, turning her gaze up to her dad.

“I’ve spoken to Mackenzie about her part in everything,” Ms. Burnell answers tightly. “But we’re here to talk about Danielle’s conduct. That’s not the only incident of its kind that’s occurred this year and—”

“You know, it sounds to me as though Danielle’s doing just fine,” Mr. Masters says, pushing up to a proper stand, tugging the bottom of his sleeves and smoothing the dark, wrinkleless fabric.

“But—”

“Did she make this girl cry?”

“Well. No, but—”

“And how are my daughter’s academics?” he asks, gaze fixed on hers, sending a chill creeping down her spine.

“Fine, but—”

“Has she gotten into a physical altercation with anyone?”

“Not exactly, but—”

“Started any fires?” he asks, sarcasm and derision dripping from the words.

“No, she hasn’t started any fires.”

“Then I believe this meeting is finished. Thank you for your time, Ms…”

“Burnell,” she answers weakly.

“Thank you for your time, Ms. Burnell. Danielle, are you ready to go?”

“Yup!” She pops up to an enthusiastic stand, rushing over to the windows to snatch up her painting, twisting it toward Ms. Burnell. “Can I take this home?”

She gives a heavy sigh, massaging her temples with her fingertips. “Sure, Dani. That's fine.”

“Thanks, Ms. B!” As the girl traipses after her dad, a bounce in her step, horrifying painting swinging at her side, Ms. Burnell can hear the girl still chattering away, even as they pass out of her classroom, voices growing distant. “Do you think I should have made Mackenzie cry?” she asks.

Ms. Burnell is glad she can’t hear the man’s response—she doesn’t even want to know his answer.

#dp ficlet #danny phantom ficlet #cheese melt #danielle phantom #vlad masters #outsider POV #thanks for the ask!#liliande-comics

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izzuku · 1 year

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A messy outcome ──

summary- being under the Ex-Geo Archon's orders while having him underneath you can only be justified by a contract, right? “You get to taste a piece of the Heavens...and I get to see you crumble under the pleasure, darling” - Morax

characters- powerbottom! Zhongli x top/submissive male! reader

c/w- anal penetration (character receives), unprotected sex, marking (from Zhongli), reader cums inside without a warning (he's too sensitive) , restraints on reader , orgasm control on reader, blowjob (giving), mutual aftercare and petnames

a/n- thanks for the anon who asked me to re-do it again. As I said I'm sorry to the other anon who asked me about powerbottom Zhongli. I think I've got it right this time. If I mess up again please tell me! And sorry this is a bit shorter

“How does it feel, darling? Are they too tight?” The Geo Archon speaks, filling your mind with something else other than incoherent thoughts.

“Tight...oh so fucking tight” you whisper almost exhausted, moving your hips forward so they meet with the one before you. Your hands shake under the restraints your lover decided to put on you, as it 'makes you even prettier' , he said not a while ago.

The God under you smiled mischievously, enjoying the way your body stuttered with each thrust inside of him. The fact that you couldn't touch him made you even more needy. How could you have someone so powerful under you but you couldn't even feel his body? It made you nestle your head on his neck for some closure.

“Please...please, Morax-” the name slipped, making you sit straight, eyes open and pleading for his forgiveness. "Sorry my lord...I beg of you Zhongli...I really need to cum”.

“You want to come inside me, sweetheart?” He moved his ass, pushing your cock deeper and earning a loud and desperate moan from you. “You're gonna need to last at least a bit more if you want to fill me up” the other male laughed softly.

“You just feel...s-o good. Can I kiss you while I move?” before getting an answer you were already leaning in for it. His lips captured yours, your excitement being used as a fuel to make the kiss more intense. His hands found entertainment in your chest, thumbs flicking your nipples skillfully to cause your body to shiver. “Come on love, kiss my chest” his voice echoed your mind and just like an order, your lips were already latching onto his puffy nipples.

Zhongli gave you the best grunts and moans he could. While your lips were occupied, his possessive side rose from the depths of his mind. Dark pupils turned sharp like a reptile's and his fangs dived into your flesh leaving your neck adorned with a pretty red. The pain mixed with his hole clenching around your dick pushed you to the limit.

“M'sorry...cumming! Cumming, oh archons...I can't..sorry,sorry...” you blurred out, not being able to process anything else as spurts of cum painted the insides of Zhongli without a stop. You continued moving your hips, catching your high along with his. Part of his own cum got on your flushed cheeks, eyes looking down at him with barley any energy left. “My my...look at the mess you made sweetheart...I think you're gonna need to clean this, don't you think?”

Eagerly nodding you wasted no time in putting your lips to work, licking the rest of his mess as a way of apologizing for disobeying his orders. You couldn't help but take him in your mouth and pushing it all the way in, it was still semi hard, why not just give him a hand?

“If you keep sucking my cock like that...hah..I'm not gonna be able to resist you darling” his voice became hoarse, his glowing hand grabbing a full fist of hair and pushing your head down to his pubic hair. With closed eyes and a tight squeeze on his thighs, he cummed down your throat, leaving a cute trail on the side of your mouth.

“You always know how to satisfy a God...don't you, [name]?”

...

“Is your skin alright?” your fingers caress the damaged skin of his, marks of your nails were left on his thighs and some other purple hickeys. The same was for you; two big bites on each side of your neck along with a trail of more hickeys over your chest. Hell, even both of yours and his nipples were marked.

“Everything that you do on my body I'll engrave it as a wonderful memory my love” his hand pulls your face closer to his, kissing your cheeks and forehead before leaving you on his side to rest for the rest of the night.

“What we have cannot be simply explained to the gods up there. It's more than simple, darling.”

#izzuku #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact x male reader #zhongli smut #zhongli fic #zhongli x male reader #genshin impact smut zhongli #powerbottom zhongli

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demonvibez · 8 months

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Bloodlust

Characters: Barbatos x F! Reader Word Count: 5k+ Rating: Mature [MDNI] Tags: vampire barb, accidental injury (small cut), blood drinking, biting, fangs, tail play, fingering, penetration, reader has female body parts, lil fluff ending A/N: Had a ton of fun writing this! It was supposed to be out for Barb's birthday but...eh, life in the Devildom, amirite? Anyways, who doesn't like a belated birthday gift? Happy Belated Birthday, Barbatos! ♡

There you sit on a balcony of the Demon Lord's Castle, a cup of Hellfire Rose Tea cradled between your hands, as Lord Diavolo sits across from you. He had invited you over for tea in order to thank you for your help in curing the brothers' vampiritis, as well as just catch up with each other through conversation. The two of you sip your tea and exchange stories and laughs as you await the return of Barbatos with a tray of his famous sweets. As you look out upon the Devildom's skyline, the twin moons shining down on you both, you can't help but to smile as you feel a soft breeze lightly caressing your face. The doors leading into Lord Diavolo's room are wide open, the breeze flowing through the room and back out again, the various scents of teas and baked goods intermingling with one another - much to your pleasure, for you had enough of the scent of garlic for the next millennia. As you listen intently to the Prince's anecdote, you hear the door gently click open.

Barbatos is on the way back from the Castle's kitchen with a tray of his freshly baked sweets. Of course, the demon had made his famous Signature Cake that was all the rage of anyone that visits the Castle, but he also made sure to make a special batch of Spider's Web Cream Puffs just for you, as he knows how much you favor them. He'll never forget the way your eyes lit up like the Devildom sky when you first took a bite into one, a simple memory he is sure to cherish forever. It didn't take him long to grow fond of that smile of yours, and he's eager to draw it out of you whenever you're around - however stoic he may present himself. Much like himself, you're always doing things for everyone else - even if it's to your own detriment, even if it's not safe for you. Even this past week, you put your own life on the line in order to cure the Devildom of vampiritis, using every ounce of your available power in order to thwart a huge catastrophe - something they're unsure how to even repay you for.

As Barbatos continues to make his way up the steps and towards the Young Master's room, he couldn't help but to feel as though something may be slightly...off with him. As he pauses at the top of the stairway, he uses the back of his glove to wipe off his forehead, furrowing his eyebrows as he stares down at his hand. Sweat? Why in the Devildom would he possibly be sweating? More strenuous tasks never seem to phase the Butler, so why would carrying a tray of desserts be able to break his refined exterior? He brushes it off, attributing it to the steam of the pastries - despite knowing deep within himself that he had, in fact, cooled the desserts completely as he was supposed to. As he glided through the hallways and towards his Young Master's door, he couldn't help but to feel a slight tingle and burning sensation at the back of his throat. He was sure that whatever was going on had nothing to do with vampiritis - the strain only infected fallen angels, after all. He figures it must be another Devildom cold, and pushes the thought to the back of his mind, refusing to deign something so preposterous as himself being sick.

He pushes the door open with a gloved hand, a soft zephyr of the Devildom's cool night air brushing past him, and a faintly sweet scent tickling his nostrils that he finds unfamiliar. The further he continues into the room, the stronger the scent becomes, calling out to him with an intensity that rivals the thirst of a man dying in a desert. His throat dries up even more with a thirst so unbearable, it almost makes him want to claw out his own throat. Trying his best to swallow down the feeling, he marches onward with the tray of sweets, determined to see out his duties and deal with his affliction afterward. As he finally makes his way to the balcony door, another gust of wind brushes past you, and it is at that moment in which Barbatos realizes exactly what ails him.

You look up from your tea to lock eyes with Barbatos, a sweet smile displayed across your lips. He has seen you many times under the light of the Devildom moons, but tonight there is something different about you. It's not just the way the crimson moonlight paints your features, or the way your soul shines like a rare Celestial gemstone - no, you definitely look different to him. Your skin looks softer than usual, so tempting to touch and to taste. The way the wind blows your hair back, exposing your neck to him as it pulsates with the one thing he's craving more than anything in all three realms. Your blood...oh how he thirsts for your blood. He can practically see the way it dances around in your veins, calling out to him like a siren's song meant to lure him into the abyss.

As he stands there with the tray in hands, intently staring you down with a ravenous look in his eyes, your eyebrows furrow - you knew something was wrong with Barbatos just from his demeanor alone, and looking over at Diavolo, you can tell he senses it too.

"Barbatos, is everything alright?" the Young Prince asks the butler as he stands from his chair, his tone both equally serious and concerned. He doesn't miss the look in the butler's eyes, as if he were ready to consume you whole. Barbatos quickly shakes his head, essentially snapping himself out of the trance, and sets the tray down on the table.

"My apologies, My Lord. It appears that I have contracted a minor cold," he explains, trying his best to minimize the situation. Diavolo narrows his eyes at Barbatos, knowing the demon isn't being entirely truthful with him, but he crosses his arms and waits for his butler to finish his explanation. "No need to worry, once I finish my duties here, I will retire to my quarters and begin treating myself immediately," the butler continued, avoiding eye contact with either of you. Somewhat satisfied with his answer, Diavolo returns to his seat, his expression softening slightly.

"Aww, well, I hope you feel better soon Barbatos! Thank you so much for preparing all of this for us," you say, still smiling and oblivious to the subtleties of the demons around you. You pick up one of the cream puffs, placing it on your plate, before eyeing one of the Midnight Scones. Your smile grows even wider as you pick one up with one hand, grabbing your knife with the other, stabbing into the scone so that you may spread some delicious blood strawberry jam onto it. Accidently stabbing through the scone and into your finger, you instantly drop everything onto the table as you wince in pain, a droplet of blood accumulating on your skin.

The scent of your bare blood in the Devildom air sets off a war within Barbatos' mind, causing him to freeze in place and stare at you with a certain darkness in his eyes. His bloodlust for you is currently at ineffable heights, only made slightly evident to him by the sudden growth in his fangs and the way his heart races, mind spinning with the all consuming need to just have a little taste of you.

Diavolo is immediately on high alert, standing back up from his seat once again when he sees that look return to Barbatos' eyes. He can practically see the ancient demon salivating over you and your blood, confirming his original suspicions that his butler may have contracted vampiritis. He knew Barbatos, his ever loyal and stoic butler, would do his best to push through and carry out his duties as he normally would when he is ill - but Diavolo draws the line when it comes to endangering his students, especially you. He steps out from where he was sitting, moving to stand between yourself and Barbatos. The look in the Future King's golden eyes was one you hadn't seen before - sure, you had seen Diavolo be serious before, but nothing quite like this.

"Barbatos, you are hereby relieved of your duties. Return to your quarters at once and await my next orders," he says, his voice stern and authoritative. Barbatos continues to stand there frozen, staring at you and the droplets of blood that he wants so badly to taste. He doesn't acknowledge the Prince's orders - it's as if he didn't even hear him. Instead, he takes a step towards you, causing Diavolo to transform into his demon form and put a hand on Barbatos' chest.

"Barbatos. Return to your room now," Diavolo declares, with a certain bass in his voice that could shake all three realms. He will physically remove the Butler if need be, anything to protect everything that he holds dear to him - including Barbatos himself. An incident like this could ruin the peace he's been working so hard towards - and of course, he would never want anything to happen to you. Not only are you his sweet little exchange student, but you're the Chosen One - the human that stands to help unite all three realms. If harm were to come to you, he doesn't even want to think of the massive consequences that will follow. Additionally, he cannot stand the thought of anything happening to Barbatos either. Barbatos has always been Diavolo's one true family member, having been by his side since the Little Prince had tricked him all those centuries ago. No, he can't let anything happen to either of you - he needs to take control of the situation, and he needs to do it immediately. Diavolo flairs out his wings, essentially hiding you from view behind the enormity of his crimson and gold wingspan. He begins to walk forward, pushing Barbatos backwards towards the door, a low growl emitting from his throat as he bares his own demonic fangs at the butler.

Barbatos snaps out of the trance once again as he stumbles backwards, his emerald green eyes widening in horror at the realization of what has just transpired. Sure, he hadn't actually attacked you, but he couldn't deny to himself that all he could think about was how ravenous he was for your blood. His resolve is faltering, and he can't help but be overcome with shame at that fact.

"I...I..." Barbatos continues to walk backwards, his mind still racing as he fumbles over his words, unable to make eye contact with his Master. He turns and makes a break for the door. "My deepest apologies," he mutters as he exits, slamming the door shut. Diavolo stands there for a few more moments, his arms crossed, waiting to be sure the bloodthirsty butler doesn't return while you're here. When he is sure Barbatos won't return, he drops his arms and lets out a sigh, turning about face to return to you on the balcony. When he returns, he sees you still sat in your seat, holding a cloth napkin over your finger with a bewildered look on your face.

"Sorry about that," he says in his normal cheerful tone, a fake smile plastered across his face. You can still see the concern in his eyes though. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut our evening together a little short." Before you could even protest, Diavolo has picked his DDD up off of the table, making a call to Lucifer to come and escort you back to the House of Lamentation for safekeeping.

Lucifer had been prompt in arriving at the Castle to pick you up, having been filled in on the details of the incident during his phone call with Lord Diavolo. You were brought home with haste and a curfew was set in place for the entire House. You honestly had no idea what the fuss was all about - you weren't in danger being around all seven of the brothers when they were infected, why would Barbatos be any different? He's the most refined demon you've ever met, you'd have been just fine around him, you were sure of it. Ready to call it a day, you make your way to your room and get ready for bed.

The hour is late, and you are safely tucked away beneath your sheets as you peacefully slumber the rest of the night away. A loud clatter awakes you from your sleep, jolting you from your dreams. You recognize that the noise is coming from the kitchen, pushing yourself up out of bed to go monitor (who you assume is) Beelzebub in his midnight snack binge - it was a nightly routine for you, so making your way to the kitchen at this hour is almost a reflex at this point. Poking your head into the doorframe, the sight you see before you is a surprising one - it's not Beelzebub that you find, but instead it's Barbatos making all of the commotion, having ransacked the entirety of the kitchen. There he stands across the room, staring at you intently once again, for he could smell your sweet scent the second you crossed the threshold of your own bedroom door. When he says your name, you can tell there is a slight tremble to his voice.

"What are you doing here," he asks, a certain darkness to his tone. You finish making your way into the room, standing across the kitchen island with your arms crossed and your eyebrows furrowed.

"Uhh, you're in my house. I should be the one asking you that - what are you doing here," you respond, tilting your head to the side. You can tell there is a slight agitation that Barbatos is trying to hide as he lets out an annoyed huff and nervously fidgets with his hands, which you've never seen him do before. He stands there unresponsive, yet again, causing you to call out his name once more.

"My apologies...I...came to see if you had any of the last ingredients I need to make the remedy for my ailment. We are all out of garlic at the Castle and I-"

"Really? You came here for garlic?" You move out from behind your side of the counter, and walk around to make your way towards Barbatos, causing him to step backwards a few paces. "Seems unlikely you'd come here of all places for that. You know we used it all to make the last batch of serum. If you really 'just needed garlic' then it seems to me you would have popped over to the 24 hour DevilMart up the street from here," you say as you continue forward, effectively backing him against the wall. You hadn't feared these demons before, and you weren't about to start tonight. You stop a few feet in front of him, a hand on your hip and a sadistic smile on your face. "So why don't you go ahead and be honest with the both of us and admit the real reason you're here." Before Barbatos could fathom a reply, you take the last step forward, reaching out to push his hair back out of his face and tuck it behind his ear. You caress his cheek with your hand before running your fingers over his lips, your eyes shining with an unmistakable lust. "Then again, I think we both know why you're really here tonight."

Both his mind and his pulse are in a frenzy as you literally have him in the palm of your hand. You both know you are playing with fire but you don't care - you know what you want, and you're going to take it. The look in Barbatos' eyes is one of uncertainty. Between the bulge in his pants and the way his mouth is salivating, he knows for a fact that he returns that feeling of lust for you. He would love nothing more than to taste you, in more ways than one, but he's not sure if he possesses the restraint needed to take you to bed with him tonight. What if he loses himself in your essence? What if he gets a taste and finds himself unable to stop? His throat burns with an uncontrollable thirst that he is dying to quench, and the longer you linger, the intensity exacerbates.

"This is dangerous," he barely whispers as he leans into your touch. He should be telling you no - he should be opening up a portal and going back to the Castle where he belongs. But he can't find it within himself to resist you. Besides, this is what you want, isn't it? No, this is a huge risk that neither of you should be taking. You let out a soft chuckle and shake your head.

"Have you met me? Don't worry, I trust you. It'll be fine." Your hand drops from his face to grab his hand, gently pulling him towards the door. He lets out a few halfhearted protests, causing you to shush him as you guide him towards your bedroom. You push the door open and pull him inside, locking the door behind you both and leaving the lights dim. You bring him over to your bed and turn to him, grabbing his lapels with your hands. "Let's get you comfortable," you say with a smirk as you begin to unbutton his jacket.

"Are you sure about this?" You throw his jacket over onto the floor, at which he didn't even react. He just continued to stare at you, the uncertainty in his emerald eyes replaced with pure lust. Instead of replying, you press your lips to his, which was more than enough of a final answer for him. With the remaining distance between the two of you closed, he grabs you by the hips and pulls you closer to him, before pulling you down onto the bed with him. You straddle his lap, deepening the kiss by playfully nibbling on his bottom lip, your tongues colliding in a passionate dance. He breaks away from your lips to begin trailing kisses down to your neck, letting out a moan as his lips finally caress the one spot he's been obsessing over all night. "You're all I've been able to think about," he mumbles against your skin, before pressing a few more kisses against your pulse.

He extends his vampiric fangs, gently grazing them up your neck, before leaning back down and sinking them right above where your neck meets your shoulder. As you let out a gasp at the sharp pain, he retracts his fangs and begins to lap at your blood, letting out a moan as he tastes just how delectable you truly are. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the sensation, your hands sliding into his scalp and caressing his horns - you hadn't noticed him slip into his demon form the second he tasted your blood. No, both of you are having such an intimate experience, you can only seem to focus on your senses and the way you're making each other feel. As he feels your sweet crimson nectar dripping down his throat, he feels revitalized in a way he hasn't felt in several millennia. All of his senses are heightened, his power growing as he consumes your essence.

You feel a rush, a certain lightheadedness as you feel him gently sucking on the flesh of your neck. You grind on his lap as you lean into him, his hardness stimulating you and eliciting tiny moans whispered into his ear. He presses one last kiss onto his bite mark before pulling away to meet your lips with his once more, the taste of your own blood meeting your tongue. As he passionately kisses you, he begins to peel off his gloves. After tossing them on the floor, he begins to make quick work of your clothes with his hands as his tails work on undoing his own.

After tossing the clothes aside, Barbatos lays you down on your bed, continuing to kiss you as his hands slide down your body. His hands stop momentarily to feel your breasts, before one of them makes its way further downward. He slips a finger in between your lips and finds your clit - you both let out a tiny moan as he feels how wet you already are for him. He begins to slowly massage you as he kisses down your jawline, briefly pausing to press a kiss onto his bite mark, and then continuing down to your breasts. You can't help but to arch into his touch, the sensations of his nimble fingers sending you closer to the edge with each stroke, the feel of him teasing your nipples driving you wild. The sounds of your moans and whispered swears reverberate off the walls as he drives you closer to the edge of your first orgasm. The effects of having your blood drawn, paired with the pleasure Barbatos is giving you, makes you feel a high you've never felt before. He breaks away from your breasts, his other hand moving down to slide two fingers slowly inside of you as he continues to rub you. His pace quickens, and he can feel the precum beading on the head of his cock as he watches you fall apart on his fingers. Your first orgasm feels amazing - but you both need more. It's almost there's an instinct within both of you that you need to become apart of each other. He pulls his fingers out of you, putting them in his mouth to taste you. He lightly moans as he savors the taste. He wants nothing more than to fill all of his senses with only you.

He moves back on his knees, lining himself up with you and pushing the head of his cock into your tight little hole. You let out a high pitched squeal as he enters you, feeling more and more full as he slowly slides himself into you further. Once he finally pushes himself all the way, completely buried within you, he lets out a strangled moan and begins to thrust in and out of you. You feel so good wrapped around his throbbing cock, he never wants to pull out of you. The way you squeeze him, so tight and so snug, it almost feels as though you never want him to pull out either. Perhaps if he made you his familiar, he'd be able to make love to you like this constantly - but one thing is for certain tonight; you belong to him.

He reaches down to grab your breasts, teasing your nipples as he continues at a steady pace. The sounds falling from your lips are like music to his ears, a symphony he'd love to forever hear on repeat. Your brain is flooded with pleasure, each thrust sending electricity through your body. Just when you swear to yourself that you'd never felt this good before, you feel his tails slide between your lips and start massaging your clit as he passionately fucks you. Your eyes roll back once again, your hands clutching tightly at the sheets as he pounds you to your second orgasm, your body being set ablaze as pure ecstasy washes over you.

He briefly pulls out of you, but only for a moment. He lays down beside you and props himself up on one arm, turning you so you're on your side in the same position. He pulls your top leg up, firmly grasping your thigh, before repositioning his cock and sliding it back into you. Throwing your head back as you feel him bottom out once again, you both begin to grind against each other, the sounds of your skin slapping together punctuating the melody of moans filling the room. He spots his bite mark dripping near the base of your neck, and leans down for another taste, his pace quickening the moment your blood touches his tongue once again. You make the refined butler want to go absolutely feral, a side of himself that even he was unaware. He wants you to feel just as good as you make him feel - the way you rapture his senses and take him over completely. His tails return to your clit, rapidly rubbing the sensitive spot in circles, as he continues his unrelenting pace. Your mind is racing as it makes its way back up the crescendo to your next orgasm, your vision blurred by tears of pleasure as you chant his name in praise. A few more thrusts, and Barbatos sends you over the edge once again, your brain flooded with pure euphoria. He feels you clench around him, your pussy squeezing him beautifully tight, his own orgasm erupting mere seconds after yours. His pace slows down, but he continues to pump his cock in and out of you slowly, both of you riding the high of your climaxes all the way back down to the bottom.

As you both lay there and try to catch your breaths, Barbatos wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his chest, your heartbeats pulsing at an increased rate. His other hand moves to push the hair out of your face, having to do so with several strokes as it is drenched with sweat and clinging to your face. He looks down at you, eyes filled with love and admiration, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. He murmurs your name, unable to stop the smile that reaches his eyes.

"You truly are a remarkable human," he says as you look up at him, leaning in to press his lips to yours. You deepen the kiss, your hand moving up to cup his cheek as your tongue enter his mouth. His free hand slides down your body, lightly grabbing at your hip, causing you to wince a little. His eyes suddenly snap open at the sound, and he immediately pulls away, his brows furrowing and eyes wide with concern. "Are you okay? Have I hurt you," he asks as he checks you over for injury. Other than the bruising bite mark at the base of your neck, he spots several other bruises on your hips and thighs. "I apologize for any of the unintentional markings I may have left on you. I was unaware that your blood would give me such vitality," he says as he stands up off the bed, starting to make his way towards your bathroom. "I assure you I will bring you back to full health, and it will no-" the butler's lamentation is cut off by the sound of your giggles.

"Barbatos, listen to me when I say that I assure you that I enjoyed myself, and am just fine," you say, pushing yourself so that you're sitting up in bed. "Well, other than, you know." You gesture towards your neck with another giggle. "Which I also really enjoyed, by the way. But there's no need to worry, just grab me the healing potion from the bathroom, if you could? It's the red vial on the right side of my sink." You stretch your legs as you wait for Barbatos to return with the potion, your muscles feeling weak and sore in all of the best ways. A moment or two later, and he re-enters the room, handing you the vial and sitting next to you on the bed. You chug down the potion, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and setting the empty glass vial on your nightstand as Barbatos gets situated in bed behind you, pulling you back into his embrace.

You let out a happy sigh as you lay your head to rest on his chest, your eyes fluttering closed at the sound of his heartbeat below. Tonight was a night that neither of you would ever be able to forget, a memory that Barbatos will be fond of for centuries to come - his heart begins to fill with sorrow at the thought of the night ending. Almost as if you could read his mind, you begin to whisper to him a similar sentiment.

"Wish tonight didn't have to end...wish it could last forever," you murmur as the hand resting on his chest absentmindedly traces shapes on his skin. His heart swells as he hears your words, his own hand cupping your cheek and tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

"The night may not last an eternity, but our time together does not have to end. My feelings for you are so deeply profound, I simply cannot imagine myself without you. You are a part of me now, as well as I am a part of you." He closes what little distance is left between the two of you, the kiss shared between you both filled such passion, that neither of you could deny the love you share for one another.

"I love you so much, Barbatos," you whisper, after pulling away to gaze into his gorgeous lush green eyes. Even after everything you just experienced together, you can't help the blush that lightly spreads across your cheeks. You didn't really know how Barbatos felt about you, until now.

"I love you too, my darling human. And I always will," he pledges to you, giving you one more chaste kiss before settling back down. You let out a tiny yawn, nuzzling the crook of his neck affectionately before drifting off to sleep. As his own eyelids grow heavier, he thinks over the events of the day fondly. What at first he thought was an unfortunate fate in turn brought the two of you closer together - something he will always feel lucky and thankful for. One quick little turn of fate, and now the two of you are inseparably entwined, the blood ritual and love-making the two of you shared having stricken an unbreakable bond. The refined butler usually isn't fond of losing his resolve - unless he's with you. You always bring out new aspects of himself he's never seen before - even when he's infected with an mutated strain of vampiritis. You bring excitement when his life is mundane, and he's eager to see how the two of you spend the rest of time together - with or without his newly acquired bloodlust.

· demonvibez ♡ 2023 · do not copy, repost or modify · · likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! ♡ ·

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jellys-compendium · 2 months

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Plant Heat Headcanons

Millions Knives Edition

Rating: Explicit (18+ only, Minors DNI)

Pairing: Knives x F!Reader Cw: smut, heat cycles/plant heat, overstimulation, dacryphilia, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, creampie, breeding, orgasm control/denial, possessive and obsessive behaviour, dominance & submission, degradation, grinding, some religious symbolism (in Trimax Knives' portion). Word Count: ~3K A/n: A lovely person inquired about some Plant Heat Headcanons for Knives on my AO3 account. I was inspired, so here they are! Hope you enjoy them! 💜

Prefer to read on AO3?

Tristamp Knives

He is very aware of his heat and knows precisely what to expect and how to counteract it. Despite the physical symptoms that he suffers, Tristamp Knives only views this biological cycle of his as a minor inconvenience. He had always been prepared for it, overcoming the intense urges of his body with sheer willpower alone. Willpower alone had always been enough…until you came along.

Similar to Tristamp Vash’s heat, Tristamp Knives’ heat is also quite physically intense. His body aches and heats up to the point of fever. His razor sharp mind becomes slow and sluggish—obsessed and plagued with impulsive thoughts of grabbing you, ripping your clothes off, and pounding into your sweet cunt until you cry. He doesn’t quite care if he ends up doing it in front of an audience either.

Tristamp Knives’ plant markings glow exponentially brighter during this time, his fangs elongating to sharp points as his senses heighten. You become like a beacon of desire to him in this state. Tristamp Knives can sense your every breath, hear each beat of your heart, and smell the arousal that drips between your legs even across a distance. It’s infuriating for the prideful plant. It’s as if your lewd and tantalizing body were calling out to him—mocking him for his foolish attempts to control himself.

Eventually, Tristamp Knives does give in to his urges, but he holds fast and so desperately to that illusion of self-control. He dominates you physically and mentally, lording his strength, power, and superiority over you even if he’s the one moaning as he sinks his cock inside your tight walls.

Tristamp Knives’ stamina is unmatched. He can bring you to the brink of orgasm, only to then deny you and repeat the process. Tristamp Knives will do this over and over again until he has you sobbing and pathetically begging for release. He is in control. Not you, and not his heat. You will be the one praying to him, not the other way around.

I should also mention that Tristamp Knives’ cum and saliva acts like an aphrodisiac. This helps his partner keep up with him, but Tristamp Knives also uses this property of his fluids to torture, tease and taunt you. “Coming from just a little kiss? What a depraved little slut you are.”

Tristamp Knives’ iron will to stay in control is formidable, but it is not absolute. You can break him—forcing him to submit to his feral urges if you play your cards right. Put on a little show for him. Tease him by lewdly touching yourself, salaciously cry out your pleasure with rapture, fuck yourself shamelessly on his throbbing dick while chanting your devotion to him. If you can manage to rile up this control freak of a plant well enough, you’ll find yourself pinned to the nearest hard surface before you can blink. At that point all you’ll hear is Tristamp Knives’ feral growls in your ear before he starts to fuck you so hard you nearly pass out.

It’s a dangerous game that you’ve decided to play, but you’ll be damned if you’ll allow Knives to have free reign over every little part of you for a moment longer.

Yes, he is stronger, smarter, faster and infinitely more powerful than you--but at this very moment, as Knives denies you your orgasm for the third time in a row, you decide that those facts don’t matter. You have a hold over him too. A power so profound that he desperately tries to deny and curtail it, forcing you to submit and take what he gives you in an effort to hide his secret vulnerability.

No more. You’ll expose that nerve and grind it to dust.

Knives chuckles darkly as he removes his glistening fingers from your twitching cunt, plant markings pulsing an angelic blue as he pops his fingers into his mouth and savors your taste.

“Couldn’t come in time, pet?” Knives taunts, those white fangs of his glistening as he elegently licks his fingers clean.

“Pathetic.”

Your body is covered in sweat—exhausted and aching—but somehow you manage to muster your strength and reach forward to claw at Knives hips. The plant’s eyes widen with surprise, his breath leaving him in a choked gasp as you bury your fingernails into his flesh and swiftly pull his hips to yours. Knives moans, his hands slamming against the mattress on either side of your head, steadying himself while you bury his cock to the hilt in your eager pussy.

The ecstasy that flows through your body is unparalleled, and you mewl with abandon, arching against Knives’ burning skin as you come around his cock—hips grinding obscenely against his hardened flesh as your cunt milks him hungrily.

“Want you.” You gasp, breathless and delirious. Your gaze captures his own as your body rides out your orgasm sensually beneath him. Beckoning him. Breaking him.

“Please,” You whimper, body arching so that your lips brush sweetly against his perfect, pink mouth.

“I want you, Nai.” You breathe against his lips. “I want you more than anyone else. I’m at the end of my rope, I’m aching for you. Please, fuck me. Please, please, please!!”

Knives is motionless above you, his eyes and body bathing your own in that ethereal blue glow. A moment of silence passes between the two of you, gazes locked in silent battle as your panting breaths fill the air.

Then a devious grin spreads across Knives’ face. The sight sends intoxicating shivers of anticipation down your spine. Like a predator, Knives leans down and whispers a dark and sensual promise in your ear.

“You want me, pet? Fine. Then I’ll give you everything you asked for.”

98 Knives

This stubborn plant tries to ignore his heat. 98 Knives is in complete denial and is the biggest brat about this biological cycle. He’s flushed? You’re seeing things. Had he been staring at you for too long? Only because he can't believe how ugly you are! Is he hard? Why the hell are you looking at his junk in the first place, pervert!?

Completely opposite to 98 Vash, 98 Knives tries his damndest to avoid you during his heat. On the surface, he wants nothing to do with you during this time and will actively leave the room whenever you enter. If you manage to touch him unguarded however, you swear you can hear him purr sensually under his breath.

Compared to his other counterparts, 98 Knives doesn’t go through the same physical changes during his heats. No fangs or distorted wings or glowing marks. However, 98 Knives is just as affected in terms of his sexual drive and he is in a constant state of horniness. He’s also super pissed about it.

98 Knives angrily jacks off every moment alone he can spare. It never fully relieves him though, and for the most part it only riles him up even more. 98 Knives’ head is always swimming with thoughts of you—both unbelievably aroused and severely irritated. How dare you cloud his mind like this? How dare you make his cock so hard? How dare you make him want you?

When he does finally submit to his heat, 98 Knives becomes the bossiest and brattiest little pillow princesses. This whining plant makes you do all the work while also growling his demands of what he wants from you through clenched teeth.

But rest assured, when you manage to edge 98 Knives just right—hitting that sweet spot of his with perfect precision—oh can you make that plant sing.

Knives groans, gritting his teeth as he arches beneath your hips. Those beautiful blue eyes of his squeeze tightly shut as he curses you under his breath.

Ignoring his insult, your eyes linger on the straining muscles of Knives’ neck as he pathetically thrusts his cock against you. His leaking and throbbing glands just barely manages to breach the tight entrance of your pussy despite his best efforts.

“E-enough.” Knives rasps, fingernails scratching at the meat of your thighs—childish and demanding. Those wild eyes of his open again, pegging you with a petulant glare.

“Hurry up and sit on my cock, you idiot!”

Ah. He’s near his breaking point.

“Hmm, and what if I don’t? What if I leave you here aching and unsatisfied? It would be exactly what a brat like you deserves.”

The rage that flashes in Knives’ eyes lasts only a second. Quick as a flash you raise your hips, letting Knives’ cock slip from the warmth of your cunt. He growls, utterly livid as his dick lands pathetically on his navel with a wet slap.

But before the tantruming plant can retaliate, you sit on his cock, harshly grinding your slick folds up and down his entire length. The breath explodes out of Knives’ lunges, as you grind your pussy along his length and his next words leave him with a pathetic whine.

“Th-that's not what I meant you disgusting, brutish—aaaahhhhh!”

You press your weight against his frenulum, grinding your clit mercilessly against that most sensitive spot of his—breaking him down piece by piece and smiling with satisfaction as Knives melts in your hands like butter.

He's such a whiny little thing.

The plant’s hips start to piston, his whimpering mewls now uncontrollable as he starts to grind against your sex. Knives' blue eyes glass over with lust as he stares at you with a mixture of hatred and need. Right now, you are at the epicenter of his world, and he hates that.

“Beg me,” You whisper teasingly with a smile. “Beg me to fuck you. Do it nicely and I’ll give you what you want.”

Knives’ teeth clench, his expression a conflicted storm. But in the end, the plant's lustful need supersedes his pride. Releasing a huff of air, Millions Knives swallows and then whispers oh so sweetly.

“Fuck me, pet. Please.”

Trimax Knives

Trimax Knives regards the period of his heat with virulent disdain. To him it is a primitive mechanism of survival derived from the disgusting remnants of the human DNA that poisons his every cell. Among many things, Trimax Knives detests his heat.

Luckily (or perhaps unluckily) for you however, your touch he does not detest.

Similar to his brother, Trimax Knives also goes through a lot of physical changes and a significant amount of pain during his heat. At the peak of his heat, razor sharp, almost crystalline wings involuntarily tear outwards from beneath his skin. His eyes glass over to a milky bluish white, and his fangs practically double in size. Each fang is razor sharp, easily capable of tearing anyone limb from limb. Trimax Knives is exceptionally beautiful in this form, but he is also dangerously aggressive.

Trimax Knives is possessive, and obsessive on a good day. In the midst of his heat however? Those tendencies of his magnify tenfold. Once his heat hits, the vastness of Knives’ mind becomes singularly fixated on you. Your scent, your soft skin, the sound of your voice, the beating of your heart. Every aspect of you is impossible for Knives to ignore. He wants to claim you, mark you, and fuck you until you are begging for mercy.

The compulsive and feverish thoughts of breeding you—of mating with you so thoroughly and completely that he gets you pregnant—nearly drives Trimax Knives to the brink of insanity. It’s not necessarily because he wants offspring (honestly even if you’re incapable of such a thing he couldn’t care less), it’s more so because Trimax Knives is so madly possessive of you that he wants no doubt in anyone’s mind exactly who you belong to.

Woe is any idiot who decides to breathe the same air as you (let alone touch you) while Knives is in the throes of his heat. People have been maimed, and several of the Gung-Ho Guns have the scars and the psychological damage to prove it.

Also similar to Trimax Vash, Trimax Knives’ heat is slow to build but quick to peak. You will see the warning signs before the full force of his heat hits, and when it does, it’s like a storm of biblical proportions.

When mating with you, Trimax Knives comes quickly and abundantly. His refractory period is short though, and this man will have you coming on his cock over and over and over again, pumping you full of load after load with each round. Trimax Knives takes what he wants, having little regard for your tearful cries for mercy from being sore and overstimulated. He knows your breaking point, and despite the feral state he is in, he will never cross that line. Instead, Trimax Knives balances you perfectly on that edge, watching you come undone beneath him time and time again with blissful satisfaction.

The urge to nest is intense for Trimax Knives during his heat, although he’s not exactly one to build a comfy place for you. Trimax Knives is more interested in finding a safe place over which he has full control. An isolated space where no one either than himself has access to you. This is where you will experience the full force of his heat.

Trimax Knives will also very strangely take good care of you during the entire period of his heat. In spite of the physical exhaustion you will endure, you will be fed, given water, and held tenderly. It’s in Knives’ silent actions where you can truly see how much he cares for you.

You awaken from your deep slumber. Eyes bleary and clouded as they open. Your vision finds the faintest of light above you, and you focus on it until your senses sharpen.

Once your vision returns you look around. A thick layer of crystallized, shimmering glass is spread beneath your aching body. It looks cold to the touch but it is strangely…warm. As if it were a living, breathing thing cradling you, comforting you, and protecting you.

You shift and in that moment you realize that you’re still connected to something. Heated skin shifts with you and a soft groan sounds in your ear. Turning your head, you look over your shoulder. Memories of the last few days slowly snap into place like puzzle pieces. Knives lays behind you, his alien and unreadable stare fixated on you.

A burning throb commands your attention. You look down, and it’s at this point you realize that Knives’ cock is still buried deep inside you—the evidence of his dizzying girth a demanding pressure between your hips.

“Don’t move,” Knives commands.

He twitches again inside you and the pressure increases. You mewl at the pleasurable ache. He's still coming.

“Knives…”

The raspy tone of your voice does not escape the plant’s notice. He tsks, attention turning to something just beyond your reach. His powerful arm snakes past your line of vision, and then returns with a flask of water clutched in his hand. You watch, parched and mesmerized as Knives brings the flask to his perfect, pink lips and pours.

His Adam's apple bobs deliciously as he takes the water into his mouth. After two gulps Knives places down the flask and reaches for you, his fingers grasping your chin. Your mouth opens instinctively, like a baby bird desperate for nourishment, as he leans down and seals his lips with yours.

You whimper, lapping up every precious drop that you can from Knives’ mouth while his tongue glides sensually along your own. The kiss is cut short however, leaving you licking at the little remnants of water left behind. Knives smirks, then from his hand he produces a slice of apple.

“Eat.” He commands.

So you do. Obediently, you take the apple slice from his fingers, wet tongue kittenishly and shyly touching the tips of his fingers as you receive your blessing. Knives hums his approval, his gaze possessive and intense as his thumb gently glides over your bottom lip as you chew.

The exchange is powerful. Primal. Like a god of creation, Knives institutes himself as the source of life. Of your life. From his lips you drink, from his hand you eat, and from his cock you are filled with euphoric purpose.

“Are you satisfied?” Knives’ purring rumble echoes like an ancient melody upon the crystal glass.

You nod, and no sooner do you show your satisfaction does Knives turn the both of you. His body remains flush against yours as you are maneuvered from your side and onto your hands and knees like an animal. Your face and breasts press firmly against the makeshift glass bed below as Knives lifts your hips into the air—keeping them connected with his own.

A pathetic moan escapes your lungs as Knives resumes his rut, his cock plunging as deep as your pussy would allow. His burning glands kisses your cervix with each surge forward as his balls slap deliciously against your clit. You arch and sob. You’re so swollen and sore, but Knives feels too fucking good.

“Who do you belong to?”

Of course. This ritual would be incomplete without your pledge of devotion to him.

“Y-you, Knives.”

The powerful being bears down on you, his sharp teeth on the shell of your ear.

“Who do you worship?”

“You.”

“Who do you love above all else?”

You tremble, the confession vibrating like an explosion in the air as it spills from your lips.

“You. O-only you Knives. I love you.”

And with a hot groan, Knives comes inside you, his fingers bruising your hips as he grinds his cock against your puffy walls, filling you up with yet another load of his hot cum. When he’s done, his hands come to gently rest on your swollen tummy and you are rewarded with a tender kiss.

“Mine.”

Interested in some Vash plant heat headcanons?

divider source

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun 98 #trigun maximum #trigun smut #trigun x reader #millions knives #millions knives x reader #millions knives x you #knives x reader #knives x you #millions knives smut #jellywrites

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zhongrin · 2 years

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treasure

◇ characters ◇ zhongli

◇ tags ◇ dragon!zhongli/morax, yandere, afab!reader

◇ a/n ◇ "more zhongli? girl you down bad," you say, shaking your head. i sigh dreamily as i stare at the lord of geo himself, "mhm, i'm so down bad <3"

young morax who has yet to have full control over his dragon form, who oftentimes loses to his baser dragon instinct urges, who has his eyes set upon you and is determined to order convince you that he's the best partner you would ever have.

little human you, so fragile and defenseless, so easily hurt by his talons, by the slightest swipe of his tail, by the tiniest force of his fangs.

surely you need someone like him, a powerful dragon who can command the very soil of teyvat itself. you should want to be his, want his protection, and feel honored to receive his attention, his devotion, his love. you should be proud, for having the mightiest beast bend over your wills, for having a literal god worships you, for being the sole contractee of a one-of-a-kind contract crafted personally by the lord of contracts himself; a vow to eternally tie yourself to him, an oath that will elevate you to become the highest being, a divine entity that's fit to stand beside him.

and he knows he can take care of you so well. drape you in the finest gems he unearths himself, lavish you with the freshest hunt, and the healthiest selection of tea leaves.

he is more than capable to fill your cunt with one or both of his cocks - your choice, satisfy you until your throat is raw from chanting his name, give you all sorts of pleasure no human lover could even dream to give you. he can promise to make sure your stomach is always full, your mind always occupied with the thoughts of him, your womb stuffed to the brim with his cum.

he will make sure to press as many kisses as the marks and bruises and accidental wounds from where his talons grazed you - he's always so apologetic for constantly spinning out of control when you look so good under him, but really, who can blame him when you look so good, so perfect, caged within his arms?

after all, it's common knowledge that dragons hoard treasure.

and in his eyes, you're the one treasure he wants to hoard forever.

ps. if you want to be removed/added from the taglist, just send an ask!

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #yandere #minors dni #rin writes #afab!reader

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hyperfixat · 1 year

Text

~725 word interlude for the yandere lucifer thing i posted a bit ago!!

pt one

Why is he always last to the punch? All sound and sight blurs as his sight zeros in on the red, scabbing mark on the juncture where your shoulder meets your neck. He can’t tell what his brothers are saying, what you are saying it’s static.

Someone’s laid claim on you. Lucifer doesn’t know who, doesn’t care who, because he knows it was one of his brothers’ vile fangs staking you. It should be him, his mark, his teeth tasting you, not them.

Shouldn’t they have at least asked before marking you up. He’s the reason you can stay, he keeps you here, and they ignore his authority.

Breakfast tastes like soot, all he can see is your neck with bite marks that aren’t his. A feral desire stirs inside Lucifer, to claim you as his, to hold you above his siblings. He can share, he can, it’s just that he should be the first in line, your choice, if you had to choose.

Lucifer abruptly dismisses himself, leaving a half eaten plate in his seat, which will be snatched away the second his footsteps are out of earshot of Beelzebub. He mutters some excuse about Lord Diavolo, desperate to keep his cool in front of you. No, you can’t see this vile envy burning through his heart.

Paperwork serves as a lousy distraction. It is bland and repetitive and there is nothing to stop his mind from wandering.

He wonders if you’d let him stake a claim as bold as a bite on you? Would you allow him to draw blood? The thought alone makes his head spin. He can almost taste you already and then quill in his hand snaps.

MC <3

Lucifer: If you would come to my office after class, I have something to discuss with you.

MC: Sure!

MC: i’m not in trouble am i?

Lucifer: No. I simply wish to talk.

MC: (posing demoji, smiling with stars, cheekily posed.)

Good. Satisfaction swirls in Lucifer’s chest and he grabs a new pen and resumes his work.

Time cannot melt away fast enough, and no matter how hard he throws himself into the papers, you possess his mind. He’s nearly insane by the time you gently crack his door open, peeking a single eye into the room to spot him before coming in.

Your uniform is ruffled from a long day at school, and his hands itch to fix it for you, but more importantly. “Which one of my brothers bit you?”

You flush a beautiful pink and suddenly Lucifer finds himself a tiny bit less upset at the situation.

“Mammon.” You shift under his heavy gaze.

“Why did you let him?”

“He asked nicely.”

“I find myself wondering, if I asked nicely, would you let me take a claim on you?”

“Oh,” your heart thumps wonderfully beneath the skin of your neck, his fingers trace up to your face, your jaw. You’re so beautiful when he has you like this.

“Hmm? Will you indulge me, little one? Let me taste you, and mark up your pretty neck?”

Lucifer pecks little kisses along the column of your throat, basking in the stutter of your breath.

“Yes,” you manage.

Lucifer smiles and gives a small love bite to a vein in your neck.

“Thank you, little star.” He practically purrs the words.

“But!” You regain a bit of yourself, less lost to his charm. “You have to ask nicely.”

“Oh?” Lucifer laughs. The laugh when he knows he’s about to do something really cool and sexy. With that he kneels on the floor in front of you, unleashing his wings, horns, and other various demonic changes.

He reached for your hand and places a kiss on your wrist.

“Won’t you allow me the greatest pleasure of claiming you as my own? It would be my deepest honor, little one.” And if he doesn’t absolutely live for the blush that coats your cheeks at that. His long eyelashes shadow his undereye gorgeously.

“Yes,” you stare at him as he pulls himself to his feet. Lucifer makes a show of grinning with his fangs on display, giving you a preview of what he’s about to bite you with. It makes your knees weak. Such a powerful demon using one of his sharpest assets on you in a way you trust him to not bring you lasting harm.

#verified hyperfixat post #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer x you #lucifer obey me #lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x mc #yandere obey me #yandere obey me x reader

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with3r3dflow3r · 1 year

Text

Caught in the act - Dio x Reader (NSFW)

Summary: Thinking Dio, your master, is away, you're masturbating on his bed and rutting on his pillow. You quickly, however, find that's far from the truth.

Reader is afab.

1635 words of pure horniness

CW: Masturbation, fingering, oral (receiving), overstimulation, biting & blood drinking- like come on, he is a VAMPIRE

Inspired by this GEM

https://arvandus.tumblr.com/post/652504841642475520/icarus-overhaul-x-freader

🔞 NSFW, MINORS DNI! 🔞

You shouldn't have been doing this.

You shouldn't have been doing this and you knew it.

Yet here you were, doing it.

"Dio... A-ah!"

You had absolutely no excuses but, even so, you were in Dio's chamber. Alone. Without permission. On his bed. Naked. Pleasuring yourself. Using his very own pillow to create the friction you so much desired between your legs.

Every part of your current actions were screaming "forbidden" but their scandalous nature only turned you on more.

More, you wanted more.

The vampire's natural scent permeated the entire room. Having your head pressed into his pillow- half to muffle your whines and half to smell him more, tricking yourself into thinking he was there- was intoxicating, to say the least.

You rubbed your crotch on the soft material and dragged your fingers in and out of your core with unparalleled vigor. Letting out moan after moan and sweating all over, you were getting close. You held your eyes closed, picturing your Lord was the one bringing you pleasure. His image in your mind was all it took to push you over the edge.

"Ohh, Dio.. Fuck."

You collapsed on your stomach, trying to calm your staggered breathing.

You could imagine in graphic detail the consequences of getting caught but it didn't phase you in the slightest- and in a way that terrified you. It was almost like you wanted to get caught. Like you wanted your Lord to see you in such a state.

With that, you couldn't help yourself. You once again began to drag your clit against his pillow, further coating it in your juices. You arched your back in bliss, giving a show to a nonexistent audience.

Or so you thought.

"What do you think you're doing, darling?"

The whole world went still and your blood froze in your veins. You had no feeling of your lower body- apart from your ever-aching pussy. The very subject of your sexual fantasies, Dio, had caught you in the act.

You had served him for long and were never one to disappoint. He had even gone as far as calling you his "favorite servant" on occasion- your heart fluttered at the memories. Perhaps, he'd kill you without humiliating you too much in return-

"If I'm not mistaken, I asked you something."

You gulped; your throat was dry.

"How... long have you been here?"

"Does it even matter? Answer me."

Fair point.

"I... I'm sorry m-my Lord-"

"Look at me when you're speaking." His tone was as cold as it could be, demanding, but it was nothing less than the greatest melody you'd ever heard.

You meekly gazed at Dio from behind your shoulder. Though it remained unspoken, he found eroticism in your timidness; like an exquisite dish that was being handed to him with trembling hands.

"Please forgive me, Lord Dio. I know it's wrong but... but I couldn't control myself!!" You blabbered breathlessly, "So I'm b-begging you, don't ki-"

"Hmm," He hummed and you could have sworn he sounded bored, if not for the dangerous glint in his eye and his fang showing from his upward-curled lip. "Where are you manners, (y/n)? I don't remember telling you to stop."

"Excuse me?" you felt light-headed.

"You're not one to leave a job unfinished, are you? So go on, come for me."

You couldn't believe your ears. Dio had just- he had just asked you to...

"But- but... Dio!" You protested, your cheeks flaring. He couldn't be serious, right? Right?

"This is an order." His tone was non-wavering, definite.

Wrong.

You sighed, ready to submit to his desires. What Dio wanted, Dio would always get and you weren't one to defy him- not now, not ever. It was't like you didn't want to continue what he had interrupted, anyway. Shutting your eyes and sliding your hand between your legs, you tried to focus only on the sensations you blessed yourself with, ignoring the intimidating presence behind you.

It was silent, save for the sound of your fingers dipping in and out of your folds, your heavy breathing and the occasional whine. You were purposefully being more quiet than usual- than moments before- for reasons obvious enough.

"Naughty, aren't you, my (y/n)? Making a mess on my bed, on my pillow."

'My (y/n).'

You jolted at his low voice- at his choice of words, his sudden possessiveness- and the feel of his lips on the back of your ear, suddenly feeling all the more aware of the juices running down your upper thighs. You hadn't noticed him approaching you.

He was so close, pressing his warm, bare chest on your also bare back as you were working yourself.

So close yet not close enough.

He started kissing the tender flesh of your neck and soon your orgasm washed over you for the second time that night.

"Mm good girl," He hummed and you could feel his member pressing harder on your ass. "Again."

"What?" you whipped your head back in shock, "But I just.. I'm still sensitive-!"

Dio ground his hips against you for an answer, leaving you no choice but to turn back to your abused clit.

This time he was kind enough to help you reach your peak. Snaking his hands under your shirt, teasing and squeezing your breasts for all they're worth while licking and sucking at the side of your neck, his assistance was much appreciated.

As you were reaching your peak, it hit you; after your every orgasm, Dio would aid you more and more.

With a particularly hard bite on your skin, you came undone- again- with a moan, your whole body shuddering.

"You know," Dio began, stroking the top of your head, "I had been waiting for this moment. I could have taken you whenever I pleased but it's more rewarding seeing you break. It took you long enough."

He... wanted to see you like this? Dio, who could and would have whoever he wanted, craved for you in particular? This revelation was flattering, to say the least.

"Me too!" You said with a little more enthusiasm than intended, feeling the embarrassment creep in at once. "I had been fantasizing about you touching me for so long, my Lord. So, if you please..." you turned around and looked up at him with those innocent eyes- as if you hadn't just now begged for absolute filth; god forbid! You, innocent?- and bit your lower lip.

Dio laughed and dug his head to whisper in your ear, his hot breath fanning all over the side of your face.

"Since you're asking so nicely, I might as well indulge you."

With a push to your chest, you found yourself laying back on the bed, cold silk sheets contrasting the warmth radiating off both your bodies.

His generosity, however, didn't come without a price.

The vampire dragged his fangs across your skin, making goosebumps rise on their way, as if to prepare you for what was to come, in case his hunger-filled gaze wasn't self-explanatory. Without warning, he let his teeth sink in your soft flesh. From there on, there was no return. He continued biting down on you; ravenously, voraciously, insatiably. He was considerate enough not to actually drink from you, only break your skin and lap up the emerging blood, making you jolt in a mix of pain and pleasure.

Completely helpless and feeling giddy, your ragged breathing was the only thing you could do, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

After what felt like forever, Dio's hand finally found its way between your legs, at last rewarding you for being so obedient, and your breath hitched in your throat; his fingers were considerably larger than yours, reaching places inside of you you couldn't even dream of doing yourself. It made you so much more impatient for what would likely come next.

He set a pace that had you whimpering and shuddering with every one of his movements. He alternated from going agonizingly slow to ramming his digits in you, all while stimulating your (swollen) clit with his thumb, making you lose your mind and any composure you had maintained until then. It was a wonder you didn't rip the sheets with how you were clutching on them.

It had only been a few minutes and you were about to burst.

"Right there! A-ah, Dio, I'm going to-"

He pulled his hand away, right when you needed him the most.

You were about to complain when you realized. Your eyes blew wide in want as you watched him in a daze lowering his head towards-

"Ngh!" he dragged his warm tongue from your hole, all the way up to your clit, proceeding to suck on it and flick it mercilessly with his tongue; you couldn't stop your legs from trembling. You curled your fingers around his golden locks, tugging on them, leading him on.

Watching him focusing solely on your pleasure, having control yet serving you, was such an intimate sight. You finished in his mouth, writhing under him and heart swelling with contentment.

You closed your eyes, laying breathless on his bed. When you opened them again, he was still hovering over you, his lustful gaze ever-present.

You gave him a weak smile, your heart racing with both fear and anticipation.

"Am I going to die after all?"

His shoulders began shaking and soon, his deep laugh reverberated throughout the room. He gave your cheek a tender kiss, pulling down his pants. If these actions alone didn't make your heart skip a bit, his following words certainly did. Words that signalled the night was far from over.

"Only a little, my dear. Only a little more." [1]

[1]Reference to "le petit mort", a French expression meaning "the sensation of post orgasm as likened to death".

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georgiebrits · 5 months

Text

Fangs at my throat - Sim Jake

You find yourself in a dimly lit chamber, surrounded by the scent of blood and the sound of moans and gasps. The vampire lord, Jake, is sitting on his throne, looking at you hungrily. You are bound and helpless, completely at his mercy. His fangs glisten in the candlelight as he approaches, his eyes full of lust and primal hunger. You can feel his cold touch as he runs his hand over your curves, sending shivers down your spine. He leans in and whispers in your ear, "You belong to me now."

"Why do I belong to you?" you ask, your voice trembling. Jake chuckles, his lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. "Because you wandered into my territory without permission," he whispers. "And now you must pay the price." He bites down on your neck, sending a jolt of pain and pleasure through you, as you realize that you are his captive for the night.

As you feel the vampire's fangs penetrating your skin, a strange sense of familiarity washes over you. You can't explain it, but it feels like you've known Jake for a long time. The pain subsides into pleasure, and you find yourself moaning softly under his touch. You feel a hunger in your belly, not just for his blood, but for something more primal. Jake pulls back, looking at you with an intense gaze. "Do you want more?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

You slowly nod your head, feeling a deep yearning building up inside you. You're not sure why you want him so badly, but you do. Jake smirks, as if he knows exactly what's on your mind. He leans in and starts kissing you, his lips hungrily exploring yours, as his hands roam over your body. You moan into his mouth, feeling a warmth spreading through you. You realize that you're starting to enjoy this, despite the fear and uncertainty.

Jake unties you, sensing that you're under his spell. You feel a mix of relief and disappointment as the bonds come off, knowing that you're completely at his mercy now. He stands up, towering over you, his eyes glowing with hunger and desire. "Come with me," he commands, holding out his hand. You take it, feeling a strange pull towards him. He leads you out of the chamber and into the night, the full moon casting an ethereal light on the two of you. You feel like you're in a dream, unable to resist his hypnotic charms. Jake takes you to a hidden grotto, where a bed of plush silk cushions awaited you. He lays you down, his lips pressing against yours, his fangs barely grazing your skin. He moves on top of you, his hands running over your bare flesh as he growls with pleasure. In moments, his touches were everywhere, sliding over your skin, his hands and mouth heavy. Your moans filled the grotto as he pleasured you in ways you never thought possible. His fangs graze your neck as he drinks from you, drawing out every ounce of pleasure along with your blood. It's like every inch of your body is on fire, every touch sending jolts of electricity through you. You feel like you're on the edge of a cliff, about to fall over, but he always pulls you back at the last moment, letting you prolong the intense pleasure. It's as if he was intent on doing everything to you, pushing you to new levels of pleasure. You lose track of time, for the only thing that matters is the fierce passion that consumes the both of you.

Jake feeds on you until you're on the edge of consciousness, your body weak and your senses heightened. As he sucks you dry, he releases you from his hypnotic spell, letting you see clearly for the first time. You see the marks of his fangs on your neck, your body trembling. But he doesn't stop there. He begins to pleasure you once again, his lips and hands moving over you in new ways, bringing you to the brink of orgasm once more. You arch your back, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he takes you to even greater heights of pleasure. Finally, with a moan of ecstasy, you reach your climax. Every muscle in your body spasms in pleasure, as the sensations explode through you. You feel like you're floating in midair, suspended in a world of pure bliss. As you come down back to earth, Jake pulls you into his embrace, holding you close, his heart beating next to yours. You realize that you do indeed belong to him now, and you're not sure if you ever want to leave his side. As you slip into unconsciousness, you hear Jake's voice, low and hypnotic. "You will never leave me," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "You are mine, now and forever. Your body and soul belong to me." You try to resist the pull of his words, but you know deep down that he's right. You'll never be able to forget the intense pleasure that he gave you, and you'll always yearn for his touch. In your mind, you submit to him completely, letting go of all inhibitions and accepting your new life as a creature of the night.

You awaken in your bed. "Was it all a dream?" Seeing his teeth marks on you, you know it wasn't. But why are you back home if he said you could never leave?

#enhypen smut #enhypen #sim jake #jake #sim jake smut #jake smut #smut #x reader #imagine

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angelltheninth · 4 months

Text

Ruler Astarion Fucks You on His Throne

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, power dynamic, biting, cock riding, blood sucking, kissing, praise, manipulation, danger of getting caught

A/N: Astarion commission for @bumblebeeh. Thank you for the support!

Nothing odd about being the last one left in Lord Astarion's throne room. The two of you often enjoyed chats and trading gossip. He might be a King now but he won't forget his rouge ways, they're as much a part of him as they were while he was still out there adventuring with his friends. He's confined in you that he misses those days sometimes.

There's all these status and money and power that he's gained but he can't help but feel like it somehow cost his freedom. The freedom that he's longed for.

While you couldn't give him that freedom, being only one of his trusted servants you could take his mind off the things that troubled him. You were always happy to lend him your shoulder, despite the rumors it caused around the castle.

"Am I troubling you with my talk?" He asked as he cupped your cheek.

"Not at all my Lord. I'm glad you trust to me so much that you would confide in me." You knew that he could feel how warm your face was getting from looking at him. "I'm happy to be by your side when you need me."

Astarion hummed and let his hand move down, past your hip and to your thigh. "Would you let me do this?" He cupped you between your legs, watching your eyes widen in shock. You didn't move. He teased and flirted with many on his staff but as far as you knew he never went this far with anyone. "You've had to clean up a few messes I made before, don't tell me you've never wanted to be the cause of them."

The heel of his hand pressed over your clit, his fingers feeling your skirt dampen. "L-Lord Astarion! You shouldn't be doing this with a servant girl."

"And why not? Who made that rule? Is there someone above me?" He curled his fingers, searching for your covered opening. "Please." Looking at you with eyes that looked on the verge of crying he asked you to come closer. "Tell me no if you don't want me back. Do it quick."

He was right before. There was no rule that said he couldn't bed his servants, in fact it was what was expected of many. So it would seem that you would be first one. You moved away from his hand and he a brief look of rejection flashed across his pale face before being replaced by hunger when you lifted your dress and showed him your wet pussy.

Astarion's eyes darkened to a blood red color, his fangs elongating when he smirked. "Sit here."

Technically you weren't sitting on the throne. You were sitting on your Lord's lap and he was sitting on the throne. Therefore no laws were broken by you. "My Lord… you're poking me."

"Because I can smell it, your blood and your arousal, calling to me. I haven't heard this sound in a long time darling. Thank you for reminding me of it." His hands moved from your thick thighs to the softness of your hips, the sharp claws making thin marks on your skin. "As for how you taste, I imagine it's all so much more sweet."

Sharper then his claws were his fangs which danced around your throat, sending shivers down your spine, causing you to spread your wetness across the tent in his pants. You felt a pleasurable sting as he bit you, and a stirring of his cock when the coppery, yet sweet taste of your blood hit his tongue.

Your hands fisted into his shirt, "Hurts doesn't it? I can do what you did for me. I can make you forget the pain." His other hand moved the two of yours to his pants. You made fast work of them, fishing out his hard cock. "Good girl. You know exactly what to do to make your Lord feel good. Such attentiveness will be rewarded."

As he promised he made you momentarily forget about the pain by pushing his hard cock into your wet, tight pussyhole. You hissed as you stretched around him, his girth being more then you expected. "W-Wait-!" He seemed to be in a hurry, using his hands to help you move up and down on his cock, taking him from tip to hilt.

"What a tight little cunt. It must have been a long time since you've been with a man. How can that be when you're so beautiful?" Astarion cast a look of desire over your form, his hand moving to free your bouncing tits, "And these? Heavenly." He cupped one in his hand before leaning down and biting on the side, drawing more blood from you as you rode his fat cock.

"You… honor me with your words my Lord. But I'm nothing special." That remark earned you a loud slap on the ass. "Ah!"

"Nothing special. And you think I would fuck just anyone then? Well? Do you?"

You bit your lip nervously, "O-Of course not my Lord. You deserve only the best."

"Exactly. So no more talk like that." He kissed the bite mark on your breasts before moving to bite a mirroring one on the other. Your arms locked around his head, your moans muffled only slightly by his hair, remembering that you were still in the throne room. "On my command." Your pussy clenched immediately, you knew what he was referring too. "Oh, such a good girl. This cunt know what I need. Come for me then, I want my cock soaked."

He praised you so much you couldn't let him down. You came on his cock, squeezing it for all it was worth until it pulsed and released thick spurts of cum inside you. "So mu-ah-ch. Full." You pressed yourself against his thinner frame, breathing heavily in his arms.

"Shhh. It's alright. It's perfectly normal to feel tired. After all you were drained in more ways then one." His hand pressed against your back, rubbing soothing strokes up and down. "You did well for me. Rest. Let me your Lord take care of you for a change." You sighed against his neck and pressed a lazy kiss there, hearing him gasp out a tiny breath before his other hand took yours and pressed it to his lips, kissing each finger as a show of gratitude.

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whumpsoda · 7 months

Text

Open Your Eyes

I’ve been getting a lot more into vampire whump lately, which I would say is really thanks to the story The Rare Bookseller by @/oliversrarebooks (I literally can’t get enough its so fucking good) so here’s a little thing I did :D

cw: blood, mind control, brief mention of a muzzle, vampire whump

Continuation

———————————————————————

The world buzzed around him, liquified by the fuzziness seeping into his brain. It was hard to tell where he was now, almost as if the knowledge had slipped his mind, as part of him knew that he had been well aware of the fact mere seconds ago.

Reality felt distant, almost as if he was sitting in the confines of his own mind.

Unlike usual, his mind was not filled to the brim with nonstop stress and thoughts, but was now rather empty. The sensation of such contrast to his normal self was immensely unsettling, yet at the same time coated with a pleasurable calm, drowsiness.

It was… nice.

And it shouldn’t be. He shouldn’t feel like this at all. Only a slight part of him could make out the situation, a mystical hand gripping his head and squeezing out his brain, and it alarmed him to no end.

He felt like a thrall.

He felt like thrall, and he was a vampire.

He tried to grasp for a reasonable explanation, who had managed it, why, how, yet he could barely manage to even recall where he was. It was completely overwhelming, taking him over completely, and leaving him swimming in a maze of cloudy haziness.

Docile. Fuzzy. Blank.

Then, the blank faded. Slightly.

It was a voice, and a very nice one at that. The sound enveloped every inch of him, thick and saccharine. Almost recognizable, but not. The realization was only a flicker of light in his brain, before it slipped through like water. The half thought was utterly overtaken by the words.

“I know you’re hungry, dear.” The sudden sensation of a deep rooted hunger, almost starving, bubbled up in his stomach. It was almost as if it had always been there, constantly nagging at him, now amplified by a thousand. He yearned for the hunger to be fulfilled, even subsided at the least.

“Do you feel that? The overwhelming reality, one that you have ignored for far too long? In pursuit of foolish moral ideals?” He did feel it, there was not a doubt in his being. A soft hand pressed gently to his chill back, beginning a faint rub on his shoulder blade. It was pleasurable, almost as much as the instinctive action of licking his thin fangs.

“You’re utterly starving, darling, I know. You know what you’re so hungry for, don’t you?” He did. Even if the realization was being rejected by his faint self, all of him knew the answer.

The thick, rich, enrapturing answer.

As if compelled by the words flowing through his ears and mind, his head tipped into a slight nodding motion, the sleepiness pounding into his head.

“Say it.”

Against his own will, his lips began to part.

“Think it.”

The word filled his brain, capturing his undivided attention.

“Want it.”

He most definitely did.

The rubbing on his back ceased, the fingers gently pulling away. He didn’t mind, too distracted by the need pulling at him. He barely registered the sounds around him, the swift slicing of a knife, a muffled, pained whimper.

As soon as they had left, the fingers returned, this time twisting through strands of his neatly kept hair.

“You want it terribly, don’t you? I can tell, I always have.” The familiarity began to eat at him slightly. “What a shame it would be to have a vampire, a lord even, who refused to drink blood? To prey upon foolish humans? To own a thrall? It would be such a shame, wouldn’t it? It would, isn’t that right, Lord Theodore?”

Through the globby haze, the thought leaked in. She was talking about him, he knew that. He was Lord Theodore. He refused.

Yet, he felt himself nodding along, still, eager to please her. Her, he then came to the realization, was Scarlett. Even if he was not placed under a layer of fabricated calm, it would not come to a surprise that she of all people had found a way to twist her former friend into the thing he hated most.

“But you want those things, those experiences. Don’t you, dear?” Begrudgingly, his mouth watered at the thought. “I know you do, so very badly. Can’t you just smell it?”

Almost immediately, he felt his nostrils unplug, becoming clear as day. At least clear until a mind-bending aroma filled them to the brim, ripping him from anything close to a thought. His stomach felt as if someone was ripping it apart from the inside, starvation clinging to his entire self.

“Open your eyes, darling. Open your eyes and you can fulfill the hunger that claws at you.” Upon the command, he did exactly that.

His pupils instantly settled into the darkness, glossing over the figure in front of him. It practically made no difference to him that the person, the human, was chained and muzzled. He practically paid the sight no mind. He especially ignored the desperate feeling, knowledge, that he knew the human as well. A friend maybe. A good friend, even. The information was being barred from his mind, too enveloped in the obsession already having taken a hold on him.

He was much too focused on the dark, glistening dribbles of liquid seeping from a cut on the human’s leg. He couldn’t help but stare hungrily, greedily licking his knife sharp fangs once again.

“Go on, no one is stopping you. Everyone knows you want it.” Every word that slipped from her mouth, coated in a voice like butter that licked his ears, pounded into his head. As much as he attempted to hold himself back, he was unable to stop his body from operating without him.

For a second he hesitated, then began to carefully make his way to the delicious substance. He was crawling, hands and feet chilled upon the icy floor.

His mouth painstakingly slowly traveled over the cut, fangs-bared, and hovered inches above. It took all strength to merely shift his eyes to meet hers, bloodshot and puffy, coated with wet tears. She was practically pleading with him, even if they both knew there was nothing he could do.

“It will get rid of the pain, Theo, and return with unmatched pleasure. We both know you would give anything for the hunger to go away. As much as you praise your defiance, you were never good at hiding your hunger. Just give in to your urges, Lord, as animalistic as they might seem.”

And that he did.

#whumpblr #whump #mind control whump #vampire #vampire whump #vampire whumpee #vampire whumper #human whumpee #my writing #Writing drabble

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oliversrarebooks · 8 months

Text

The Rare Bookseller Part 20: Alexander's Temptation

Masterlist

September 1925

TW: Captivity, mind control

They stared at each other from across the room. Lord Alexander really didn't look any different from when he'd been a patron, and for a moment Oliver felt like he was back in his bookstore, like none of this had ever happened. But the moment passed, and everything was different -- the piercing blue eyes, the fact that he never showed his teeth when he smiled, his extensive knowledge of books that seemed too much for someone so young.

Lord Alexander was stunned, his eyes flickering over Oliver as though memorizing the sight. "Is that really you, Oliver? How did you end up here?"

He swallowed hard. "I was taken from my shop, sir."

"It seems you didn't heed my warning," said Lord Alexander with a sigh.

Oliver fought down a spike of panic. He'd already disappointed Lord Alexander. "I apologize deeply, sir, I --"

"No, no, you hardly need to apologize to me. I should have -- no matter. I didn't want to see your mind destroyed in this awful place."

Oliver's heart clenched, that a vampire could actually care. Maybe Lord Alexander really would treat him fairly.

He stepped closer to Oliver, and Oliver could feel his vampiric aura, something he hadn't noticed before the day of the warning. It made him feel serene. Secure. As though all he needed to do was serve Lord Alexander and everything would be all right. Had it always been like this?

"I don't believe my mind has been destroyed, sir," he said. "I still retain extensive knowledge of rare and antique books, which I would be deeply pleased to use in your service."

"Is that so?" The look Lord Alexander regarded him with wasn't kind, exactly. Intrigued, perhaps. "Do you recall the last book you procured for me?"

"Yes, sir, it was The Will of the Constellations, written in 1814 by an anonymous author believed to be the same reclusive German prophet and fortuneteller who penned On Planetary and Spiritual Motion," Oliver said, eager to prove his worth. "As you know, I have a contact in New York who has a special interest in elusive books of so-called prophecy."

"I see," said Lord Alexander. "I'm glad of it. What modifications have they made to you?"

"Miss Lily has mesmerized me to be obedient, docile, and have a quiet mind, sir."

Lord Alexander smiled, and Oliver felt his heart soar. "She's done an excellent job of it, then. You make an ideal thrall. It suits you more than I would have expected. Perhaps a little too well."

Oliver felt that he could collapse under the sheer bliss of the praise. "Thank you very much, sir, I want nothing more than to be a suitable thrall."

He unexpectedly hooked a finger under Oliver's throat, and Oliver found himself looking deep into those blue eyes, immediately lost. He could see stars and planets in them, or perhaps the ocean, falling deeper and deeper. Nothing else in the world mattered. He would do anything to stay here, to continue to drown himself in subservient pleasure. "Sir... please..." The words were tumbling from his mouth without control.

"If I were to purchase you..." he said, his voice low. "I would do my best to protect you and give you a good life. But we wouldn't be equals any more, Oliver. I would have to claim you. You would be compelled to serve my needs."

He shivered. Lord Alexander's voice was incredible to listen to, capturing Oliver so easily in his sway. "Yes, sir, I wish to be of use to you, if you would buy me, please."

"You're quite the thrall." Lord Alexander's smile bared his fangs. "I came here planning to turn down Lily... but you're making yourself difficult to resist."

There was a deep hunger in Lord Alexander's eyes, and Oliver felt an equally deep craving, the same one he'd felt when Miss Lily had demonstrated what it was like to be preyed upon. Lord Alexander's obvious interest was sinking him into a euphoric trance, bending his mind to think of nothing but the vampire lord's need. "Please, sir, you desire to drink," he said, tilting his head and exposing as much of his tender neck as possible, aching for the feel of Lord Alexander's fangs. "I must offer my blood to you, sir. Please feed from me, please drink deep."

He heard Lord Alexander swallow. "It's been months since I've had a fresh human... if you had any idea how good you smell..."

"Please, sir, if you would take delight from my blood, please drink from me. It's all for you, every drop is for you, sir," he said, practically begging.

Lord Alexander was so close, and the anticipation of the bite was making Oliver tremble, as though his every hope and dream would be fulfilled if only he would feed.

"Ahem," Miss Lily cleared her throat loudly.

Lord Alexander stood up straight and released Oliver's chin. "As enticing as you are, I can hardly feed from the merchandise before you've been properly purchased."

Oliver's bliss and peace turned to ash with the sudden loss of Lord Alexander's touch. "Sir, I apologize if this is impertinent of me, but I wish very much to be worthy of your ownership."

"You're a fetching thrall, Oliver, no doubt about that," he said, glaring at Miss Lily. "But unfortunately for us both, I shouldn't."

"Of course you should!" Miss Lily protested. "It's beyond obvious that he's perfect for you."

"And that's the problem!" Alexander was clearly exasperated. "You know very well what could happen."

"This isn't about your last thrall, is it? This is about what happened to Fitz."

Alexander scowled and looked at the floor.

"You can't martyr yourself forever over that, you know."

"That's really not your place to say. And I have no intention of making it forever."

"It will be if you don't snap yourself out of that malaise. You deserve a thrall that brings you joy. You can't exist in fear for eternity. And you know very well that Fitz would agree."

"Fine, Lily, fine," he said, defeated. "I'll consider it. I will. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to return to the excruciating horrors of mingling."

Lord Alexander slipped out of the room, and Oliver felt as though he might die on the spot. The remaining sliver of his past self was mortified at having begged so desperately for a vampire -- a former patron of his shop! -- to drink from him, while his hypnotized mind was devastated at the idea that he might have fallen short of pleasing him.

He knew two things for sure now: Unless he were putting on a show for Miss Lily, Lord Alexander had no intentions whatsoever of releasing Oliver if he were bought; and that the ensorcelled part of his mind was taken with him anyway. He didn't know quite yet what to make of all the discussion of Lord Alexander's past and what he was so concerned about...

"Oh, well done, Oliver, well done indeed," said Miss Lily, breathing a sigh of relief. "I was worried for a moment, but that went far beyond my hopes."

"It did, sir?" said Oliver, confused. "But he didn't agree to buy me."

"This is an auction, dear. Many vampires aren't simply going to announce their intent to buy, lest it drive the price up. And Alexander is the sort to play his cards close to his chest. Which is all the more reason that I was surprised with how nakedly desirous he was of you."

"Truly, sir?"

"I saw how he stared at you. I suppose you were too far mesmerized to really appreciate it, though," said Miss Lily. "The aura in the room was intense enough that I thought I was about to fall to my knees and pledge fealty to Alexander."

"I hope he buys me, sir," said Oliver softly.

If he were bought by Lord Alexander, would he spend his life locked in that rapturous state of trance forever, like the lotus eaters of mythology? He feared he had already grown addicted, longing to have Lord Alexander return, and even his rational mind was acknowledging that it would hardly be the worst fate he could meet here. Far preferable to Lady Jessica, anyway.

"I hope so, too. His pockets are deep. The more he covets you, the bigger the payday for me," she said, with avarice in her eyes. "And entirely apart from that, we've known each other forever, and I know a new thrall would make him much more agreeable. And it'd be a good life for you. A winning situation all around.

"But enough of that. There are other wealthy patrons, and I can't have you spending the entirety of the showcase pining over Alexander. Quiet yourself, dear, be soft and quiet and drowsy, and let that encounter rest within you, out of mind for now."

"Yes, sir," he said, and his thoughts blurred, but he still couldn't quite forget the image of Lord Alexander's fangs.

Part Nineteen >> Masterlist >> Part Twenty-One

Thanks for reading this story of a reluctant vampire.

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writing-by-mimi · 1 year

Text

The Run- Lucifer

Alpha!Lucifer x Female!Omega!Mc

Adult content, read at your own risk. Not beta read.

He's furious.

You shouldn't be here. How such a negligent mistake was made... all he can hear is his blood thrum in his ears as he clenches his fist. Someone will swing for such a mistake being made. He'll see to it himself.

It's forced him into such a position.

He either takes his Dove on the forest floor for all to witnesses, or watches as a stranger savagely claims you.

There are so many reasons he's never approached you about such things. You are an exchange student for one, mixing business and pleasure never works out. You're human, and as the Avatar of Pride, taking any sort of human lover will negatively affect his reputation.

The pacts are one thing, the house of Lamentation is responsible for your safety, requested by the Prince himself. Not only that, but he gets part of your soul when you die. Any demon that has seen you understands. You're soul shines so radiant, softly illuminating wherever you go and lighting up the Devildom.

It's how he's already located you in the flower field while the Etherals finish the seeding. Your radiance has always been eye-catching, but now among the flowers your presented for every dominant Alpha in the kingdom to be viewed. Sleeping soundly under the small creatures enchantments while lustful eyes scan your body.

The Alphas in Rut are already so riled. Speaking of your supple thighs as the Etherals continue to dance and sing around you. They speak of how they'll ruin you. Treat you with a wild roughness you won't appreciate from strangers as they rip your gown apart and sink their fangs into your neck. They know not control or safety for your wellbeing, or even enough rational thought to think of who they speak about standing next to him.

They even speak of holding their dominance over you to make you do things. Control him and his brothers, make you order them to serve your 'Alpha'.

You're nothing but a pawn and play thing in their eyes, and they plan to rip you apart at your seams and make you suffer while they take such glee in a pretty little trophy. An Omega who holds power over the Lords...

His rut has made no indication of starting. It will help him make more informed decisions and allow him to outwit those that would try to claim you. If he can stave off Rut, he might not be forced to take you on the forest floor, but be allowed to try and find a way to remove you from The Run, or atleast keep you pure from those that would use you.

He's thought about it many times. Inviting you out to Ristorante Six for a quiet meal. Taking you to an Opera...even taking you home and into his bedroom. His hands traveling your body lightly, making you moan and submit for him with even the gentlest of touches. You'd do so well, and with just a bit of guidance he could make you into a living dream. An Omega who knows obedience and strives to do thier best to please. Looking up to him with your big doe eyes as you're on your knees in front of him ready and so needy to take his commands...

He let's out a growl and pushes the thoughts from his mind. You're human. Simply a pact mate. As the Avatar of Pride, such thoughts have always confused him. He knows not to lay with you. Your human body so fragile, weak. He's reputation and status to maintain. It is very obvious... Yet he's seen your most vunerable. Even as a small human you've stood against him and held your head high, following your heart in the pursuit if doing 'what's right' time and time again.

You almost killed yourself because of it. To try and spare him, a demon whose main goal during your stay is to twist and sully your soul...

The thought still unsettles him. You so willing to die, turning the blade on yourself as not to bring him harm, to keep him in this world with his family. You tried it with a smile, all for him.

It's an action that's kept him up more nights than he can count and started such wild emotions in his chest. Thinking of the strong little human, defiant and forging a way through the world that works for you... of how you show your love and devotion so easily to him...

Everything you've accomplished since that night has slowly etched itself into him. Every sense of pride and hope to go farther slowly trickling through his pact mark and driving him to the point where he even stroked his erection to your feelings of pride.

It's only gotten worse as times gone by. You've a way about you that lowers the mask, allows him to be just as he is, without consequence. A safety about you that he should never have found in you... It's weakness he's worked hard to tamp down and now a simple little human has been undoing all of it.

It's ironic. These Alphas that surround him and speak of violating you, using your body as they please as if they deserve you, made wild with chemicals. He should be the same. He would have been just a few years ago. The thought that you are beneath him, a silly little human to be used for such amusement and bent until you broke under his hand, claiming your soul for his own to do as pleased, yet the stark contrast as he stands here now... it's clear as glass...

Now he finds the need to protect you. Pride in the fact there is no one better suited to save you from this disaster than him.

"Fuck, that rack..." A demon hums as he grabs his erect cock and shifts it in his pants, "I'm gonna enjoy waking up every morning and making that little Omega whore use her tits like a good little slave."

"No. Look at her thighs. You could fuck those and keep her pure until her time ends. That soul is worth millions and having it free of the shell...you could take true pleasures in it then."

"Well it doesn't really matter. I'm gonna drag that Omega to the front of the field when I catch them and make everyone watch as fuck that ass of theirs."

The chuckle that leaves the demons as they speak about ravaging you sends a flame into his chest. It's dangerous. Yes, he's oath bound and been ordered to protect you during your time here...yet that small niggling feeling in the back of his chest only grows. He knows what it is. Actions he will never act on, but it doesn't make it any less infuriating to listen to. You're just a small human, insignificant and unworthy of one with such status as himself, but as he watches the Etherals dance and wrap a deep royal blue ribbon lined in silver around your throat it strokes those embers, that pesky niggling feeling...

It's pride that you, such a delicate Omega who treats him with nothing but love is now adorned for everyone to see. It marks you as his and the thought of owning your body and soul begins to open a door in his heart he's worked hard to keep locked and forget.

Status. Reputation. Perfection.

These are what need upheld. Focused on. He is the Morning Star and hand of Lord Diavolo. Lowering himself to such a human is not affordable, pact bound or not.

You begin to move, rolling sleepily to your side and it makes the zone erupt in nothing but a cacophony of lewd comments as your gown has ridden up and now exposes more of your bare thighs to the crowd.

"Fuck, imagine bending her over. I bet her little virgin pussy bleeds from just a finger." The lustful strained words from a demon behind him in the crowd make him turn to see who has thought to voice their opinion now. "Just thinking about my cock covered in human virgin blood has me about to bust. Just holding those fuckin' hips as she screams in the forest..."

Lower demons, of course. They would be ignorant enough to think they had a chance. You're marked by the Seven Lords of Hell, surely they should be able to feel fear about doing anything to harm you, yet with Ruts, one often forgets to think things through.

He's one of the few demons in the zone who hasn't transformed to a natural state now. It doesn't matter, even without changing forms he can dispatch all of them easily. The less attention he draws, the better. It means he won't have to deal with Rut drunk idiots who insist to think they stand a chance in a challenge against an Avatar.

You're awake now. There is still plenty of time on the clock before the gates drop and he can't help but smirk as he watches you look around. However, it falters once he sees your face morph to fear, reality hitting you harshly as your knees give out.

He's seen you face worse than this. The fact you're on your knees so easily is odd to see, though this is much...different than any senerio most humans find themselves in. It is sure to be overwhelming.

A laugh rings out behind him, the lower demon who spoke of your virginal blood no doubt. "She's goin' into heat like a good little bitch should."

Lucifer turns back around quickly, before you fall to your knees once more he can see it. Your gown is soaked and your thighs shine with your slick, chest heaving and a flush is taking your face.

You keep trying to get up, to walk, even trying to crawl to put distance between yourself and them and the roar of the group section begins to go insane. The gentle smell of your heat melded with the flowers has drifted to the zone and it's only serving to rile the crowd to the brink of insanity.

His heart begins to hammer, you need to run. If you don't you'll be overtaken. He can deal with all of them, but it will take time, time you won't have because one of them only needs to sink thier fangs into you. A task that takes only a moment.

The sudden tug he feels draws his attention back to you from the riled Alphas. You're calling him. The smirk returns to his face, wings slowly forming, horns adorning his head and the feeling coursing through him...it's euphoria unlike he's ever felt.

He barely moves, body giving into your summons and he finds himself standing above you. Your scent is so much more intense, raw and unfiltered by distance, it overwhelms him.

You struggle to your knees in front of him, and the state of you, Dove... Already such a mess and marked just for him...

He smiles gently down to you, leather clad hand cupping your face and you lean into his touch with a whimper as he caresses your cheek with his thumb.

So pliant and needy, and he hasn't even done anything... "The gates will rise soon, Darling. What would you wish me to do?"

He just wants to hear you say it, beg him to help you, but all you can seem to do is nuzzle into his hand and pant. "Use your words, my Dove. Time is passing quickly." He moves to direct your gaze up to him.

"Help." It's weak, pathetic and so absolutely needy, yet it's everything he can do to try and not moan outloud at your request.

"How so? Are you asking for help with them, or help with your situation?"

The angry mewl and tears coming from your eyes...it's beautiful. He knows your struggling, and with his sin no less. It just serves to make it sweeter when you whine out for help again against his hand.

"Do you allow me to help how I see fit? You've not given me command." He teases as he runs his thumb across your bottom lip, your tounge darting out to kitten lick him is unexpected, but he doesn't remove his finger as your needily moan.

He could watch you for hours, yet you've not the time. "Yes or no, Mc? It's just one word, you're surely strong enough for that."

"Yes." Your voice trembles, but as you look at him so desperately, he'll forgive you for this weakness.

"Would my Dove like a show? Or taken away from here?" He is curious. Heat makes Omegas act very oddly, needy for displays of affection and power. He's no qualms giving you that. The sheer amount of pride he'll feel completing either one will be sufficient. That wave that travels his viens, even on the simplest commands... it takes over his body completely and he is absolutely shameful in the fact he waits on baited breath for another command. Another chance to feel that pride directed at him course through him like a hum just below his skin.

It's a feeling he's only ever gotten from you.

You seem to be struggling. Thighs rubbing together and so lost for the correct answer. You know that if you tell him to show you devotion he'll do as he pleases. You know the casualties he could cause. Yet you've not the nerve, perhaps just a small grip on your sanity remains to know that either choice is not good, that your decision will lead to bloodshed no matter what.

You whine again, only this time it's his name. It sounds like every fantasy he's had while stroking his erection to your feelings of pride. "Show or take, Mc. Choose."

"Show." Your one word answer has you clinging to his trousers now, panting and looking up to him so helplessly...face so incredibly close to his cock that seems to be twitching to life at every helpless needy whine you show him.

He lifts you up, holding your body against his with an arm while the other rest just on the outside of your thigh as you both face the Alpha zone. "Are you sure, little Dove? You know what I'll do to them."

As you nod and rub yourself against his arms desperately for more friction, for more of his attention, he removes his hand from your thigh and directs your eyes to the crowd in front of you. "Pay attention, Darling, or you'll miss my show for you. You don't want to miss it, do you?" He can't help but tease you as you squirm in his arms against him and do your best to keep looking at the crowd.

It's not his style. Yes, he's pride incarnate, but with that pride comes a delicate line between getting his point across and getting the job done. Wasting time and energy on things beneath him... he never does, yet he'll make an exception for you, Dove. You've tried so hard to get the words out, why shouldn't you get what you asked so sweetly for?

It's gruesome. You'll surely never look at him with anything but disgust and distrust, but you asked for this. A show.

His surprise when you rub against him and moan for him... who knew his little human held such a kink?

Daddy.

Its not a title he would call his favorite, but as you writhe in his arms at his display of power begging for him with such a title, he would be lying if he said it didn't make his cock stand at attention.

The demons heads are exploding. One by one among the crowd in no certain order. Brain matter and blood of dead demon Alphas will stain this land for years to come with the scent of their rot.

Your chest is heaving wildly and your struggling to turn in his arms, yet he holds your chin softly and makes you watch. He'll clear this sub section of zone. No Alpha in their right mind will come this way.

The gate drops. There isn't a single demon in his zone left standing and the demons that leave the neighboring zones either pay it no mind or have gotten the point. Do not enter.

You're babbling at this point. Drunk on his violent display of affection for you as you keep begging Daddy to do such unholy things to your body.

He let's out a hum. The fact you're calling so sweetly for him and him alone, "Daddy who, sweet girl?"

"Daddy Lucifer." You do you best to press against him, to touch him as your body craves, but he holds your wrist together easily as he continues to hold you up.

Perhaps it wasn't the title, but who calls him as such. There is enough blood in his cock even if he cums twice he may not be sated. Every little hiccup and cry, every single desperate moan sends him further and further into his own growing lust.

It seems your nickname was all his Rut needed. The Alpha zone is clear. No one stands in his way. He can take you to the house and deposit you in your room to deal with your heat alone. It's what he needs to do, what he should do. Yet he's pinned you face down among the flowers as he undoes his tie.

Your ribbon has enough slack for him to feed the end of his tie through, he can't help but smirk as you wiggle under him desperate for his affections while he grasps both of your wrist and binds them behind your back.

His cute little Omega, even wrapped in an elegant blue bow just for him. Wrist bound by his tie and looped through the ribbon, he can use it to pull you up. You're still so fragile, so human. His little Dove deserves a firm hand, but with that guidance needs to be caution, something he may not think about later as Rut takes his body over.

You're still begging, ass wiggling against his erection begging for Daddy to fuck you. "Such crude language. It is very unbecoming." He yanks his tie and pulls you up to him, he can't resist rubbing his tented crotch against your ass. "My Omega will speak properly, are we clear Darling?" He knows what he's asking of you is near impossible, your Heat making you wild and at this point, even negative attention is something you'll crave just for the simple fact it is attention.

It's the only thing that will make taking him easier.

Body pliable and begging, lost to even the roughest sensations, feeling nothing but pleasures at his will.

You're not in any state to be teased, edged so close to your peak only to be let down and desperately begging in tears... yet his gloved hand slowly traces up the inside of your thigh beneath the gown and ghost over your pussy lightly making you erratically wiggle to try and meet his fingers. Squeezing your inner thigh he can't help the smirk that takes his lips as he listens to you cry hot desperate tears of frustration. "How much longer do you think you can make it without cumming? You're so close at every little touch...should I keep teasing you until you break, hm?" He slowly traces back up your thigh, stopping just short of touching anywhere of substance as he listens to your desperate, frustrated sounds. "Or perhaps Daddy should give his Dove reward for no more crude language, though I am unsure if that is your choice, or it just can't be helped by your state." He nips your ear and the way you shake in his hold...

He can smell it.

With just a few word and a small nip to the shell of your ear, you've cum so hard it's running down your supple thighs and you're lost... it isn't until a full minute later do you even realize he's pulled your gown up around your waist with one hand while the other guides you to lean back against his chest. "Did Daddy say you could cum?" His voice holds no anger, but a small air of a smile is in his tone.

"Answer me, Dove." He whispers into your ear as he traces small circles in the inside of your thigh lightly.

"N-no."

He's surprised you even managed to get the word out, although he should know you're full of surprises by now. "Naughty girls recieve punishment."

The way you shudder against him does nothing for his growing Rut. It won't be long until he fucks you with everything he has ,until you're a weeping mess and completely fucked out and unmoving, taken by sleep only to wake and be so needy for him again. He only hopes he's come down enough by then to play with you more. To give you the guidance your body craves.

He still hasn't let go of his tie and as he pushes you from him roughly, your whimper of anticipation makes his cock throb as he runs his hand over your your ass. It's stunning. Made for his hand and his alone as he places a stern smack to your flesh and listens to you beg for more.

How could one demon be so lucky?

His hand connects again on your other cheek and he can't take his eyes from your skin. His hand print is already raising your skin, red, abused and yet your mewling for more as he holds you up by his makeshift restraints.

Running a hand over his work softly he can't help but hum. It's the farthest he's ever gotten with you. The night he made a pact with you, all he had done was kiss you. You were his ignorant little human so riled by a soft kiss... he hadn't wanted to taint your soul so easily that night. It wouldn't be proper. An exchange student sleeping with the second in command of all of the kingdom...

Yet here he is now. Slowly slipping to base instinct and he can't be bothered by it. You're so desperate, needy and begging for his touch and temptation is knocking. You're so obedient, doing your absolute best even in Heat to do as he says.

You're made for him. Who is he to turn down such a gift? His pliable little human, naive and virginal and falling apart at tame touches.

The fact you've never known another has him stroking his length slowly. When he dropped his pants, even he is unsure, but the fact you'll take him first fills his chest with nothing but sin as he rubs his cock against your folds, picking up slick to ease his cock as his hand softly strokes his cock. It makes his body hum. "Have you learned your lesson?"

He watches as your head nods quickly, hips trying to feel more of his cock against your skin.

"Mc, you've found yourself in quite the situation. Would you require help from Daddy to make it better?"

He already knows your answer, he also knows once he hears it that will be the end of him and he'll tip over the edge and the only thing that will save you from such harshness that he holds will be the need to coat your walls with as much seed as possible, over and over again as quickly as he can.

"Y-yes, Daddy Lucifer, p-please!" Your sobs sound like the greatest melody he's ever heard, "P-please! Alpha Daddy, yours, yours, yours!" You assure helplessly as his cock teases your entrance. "Please use your cock and fuck me, Daddy. Please!'

It's the last conscious thought that enters his mind, you begging for him like his good little Omega and that you should be given reward and praise, and he can't stop himself from the whisper of how well your doing as he lines his cock up with your tight, wet, virginal hole.

As soon as the head of his cock touches your lips its like a switch inside of him flips. Gone are thoughts of status and reputation, replaced with an overwhelming need to claim you body and soul as he pushes his hardened cock past your folds and into your warmth as his teeth connect with your neck.

The hum that overtakes him blocks out your screams of pleasure and pain as his hips start thrusting as fast and deep as he can manage. The fire beneath his skin demands he find release, a way to extinguish the flames before they consume him whole.

His hips never stop as he pulls his teeth from your flesh to admire the mark. It's memorizing. You belong to him and him alone now as he fucks you in the flower field for anyone to see. His reputation is shattered and the thrill alone only spurs him to show whoever watches that he owns you. That another Alpha will never have you as he does now, so raw and vunerable, face down and babbling as he holds you just off the ground with his tie.

His other hand touches every area he's only ever thought about. All those thoughts that were locked just behind the door in his heart and his cock never leaves you.

First.

He's the first man, demon, to know you body and soul, so completely, and the feeling that takes him over as his hand connects with your ass is like a jolt through his whole system.

It isn't until his hips begin to stutter and he coats your walls do any thoughts that make sense come to him. He can feel you. You're so tightly clamped around his cock and every small movement only serves to make him shake above you as he continues to make your cunt milk every drop of his cum inside of you.

Even watching as the fluids drips down your thighs it is still so surreal. The creamy pink mixture sticks to your thighs and drips from his ballsack, yet he can feel no disgust, no anger at himself for failing to hold back...

It's a contentment he's only ever felt few times in all of his many years. It's where he belongs. Inside of you for the world to see. Their judgements mean nothing in this moment and even after he pulls his cock from you, it still will not matter to him.

Such a silly little human has completely unraveled him for the whole kingdom to see.

You've ruined him.

Yet as he slowly moves his cock inside of you, the need to fill you again growing, he can't bring himself to care.

You're meant for great things. The first human to help unite the realms and bridge the gap in Lord Diavolos dream. A part of his family and the woman whose kept him up at night for months with your silly little smile and unwavering devotion.

It doesn't matter his status, his reputation. Perfection lays here. Inside of you and his teeth marks on your neck for the world to see that you belong to him, you next to his side for all to witness.

You're at your limits. Gasping for breath and covered in grass stains, covered in his markings for the world to see. His beautiful little Dove, defiled for a kingdom to see and try to judge.

You'll be embarrassed. A flushing mess and probably won't be able to look him in the eyes for days to come, but he knows. You'll still take his hand and walk to R.A.D., you'll still bring him coffee and laugh with his family. Still rest your head in his home. The only things that change are that he'll see to it you sleep in his room. His public marking on your throat won't be hidden away as some dirty little secret of shame. You deserve more than that. You'll stand by his side for the rest of your days and even after if he has his way.

The blood still hasn't left his cock. Even remaining still and giving you time, it's done nothing for him except make his cock throb and twitch inside of your walls for more.

Pulling you up by the tie, he can feel your thighs quiver as you try and hold yourself up. You've been such a good girl for him. Taken him so well and you deserve the praise as he wraps his arms around you and whispers into your ear how you've done so far.

His cock slowly drags at your walls and every gasp and whine sound so delightful and makes his body hum.

Once more.

One more time and he'll give you rest. Take you home and put you to bed until you wake again needing more. You'll forgive him, allow him to be selfish. He already knows it.

He'll fuck you one more time for the world to see, to quell any doubt others may have about who you truly belong to.

His thrust are slow as his hand holds your throat lightly in his grip and his thumb traces his mark. It will never fade and the pride he feels brings a smile to his lips as you begin to moan at his cocks slow thrust.

"L-lucifer..."

"Shhh, once more Darling." His other gloved hand slowly massages your breast and he can feel the warmth of your skin through the gown and his leather gloves. Next time he takes you, there will be no barrier. All of your skin will know his and you'll never feel another as you will him.

He moves his hand from your throat to direct your gaze once more, past the Alpha zone to the spectator area. "Everyone in the kingdom has seen how well my little Dove has done." He smirks as he increases his pace slowly. "They've seen you climax and how you belong to me, Dove."

Ah, that beautiful little flush. It's engulfed your cheeks and carries down your neck, complimenting his mark so well.

It's been ages since he has had such slow, and dare he say it- loving - sexual encounter.

He makes you watch the crowd as his cock continues to slowly impale you, gown held up for the world to see as his cock uses you to his whims. Hands slowly tracing your body with a gentleness he failed to afford you earlier when at the height of his Rut.

You cum on his cock once more as he places a soft kiss to his claim mark and the feeling of your cunt becoming tighter makes him hiss.

How one silly human woman could be so perfect he does not understand.

"You're mine now. Body and soul. I'll never allow you to know another as you know me."

"N-never?"

He can hear it. It's a question and he can't help but chuckle. "You think I would throw my Dove to the wolves after experiencing you so completely? Seems I'll have my work cut out for me." He rocks his hips faster as he keeps your face to the direction of the crowd.

"You belong to me, Mc. No one else, ever." He softly reassures and the admittance makes his cock twitch as he tries to hold himself back from cumming. "I'll give you your silly human world traditions of marriage, even give my Dove a pretty little ring if that is what it takes." His cock is seated so deeply inside of you like this, pulling himself from you even just a bit seems insurmountable, but the feeling of thrusting back into your heat makes it the only reason he can find to do so at all.

"Show."

Your voice is absolutely breathless and he knows what you ask. His brave little human wishes to show the eyes of the Devildom how well you take him between your thighs and it strokes his ego.

"Are you sure, Darling? I won't be long." He presses gentle kisses along your neck and shoulders and feeling your hot skin against his lips is building his Rut again.

"Show... show, show, show!"

You press back and take all of his cock at once and cry out as an orgasm takes you. It's all he needs to fuck into you as roughly as he pleases, eyes never leaving the side of your face and watching your fuck drunk expressions as he finds his end deep inside of your needy cunt.

The happy little smile and hum of satisfaction you make only serve to ensure its the hardest orgasm his ever had in all of his years.

He let's you fall forward slowly, ass up and face in the flowers as he pulls his cock from you. Watching his seed ooze from your pussy he can't help but hold your lips together, trapping his seed inside of you. A satisfied smile on his lips at the knowledge he'll see this view for years to come.

He tucks himself back into his pants and pulls you up by his tie, holding you against him as he removes the binding and fixes his tie.

In less that a minutes, he's completely put together, and other than the pink that clings to his cheeks, you'd never be able to tell anything was wrong or different.

You on the other hand... You're all the proof one need for how well his evening has turned out to be. Between the tears stains, blood and copious amounts of cum on your thighs as he puts your gown proper, it's a very telling story. Yet that little drunk smile clings to your lips even while you begin to slowly drift to sleep as he picks you up from the flowers and make his way through his earlier show. The smell of dead Alphas doesn't disturb or distress you, even his brother Asmodeus's hoots and hollers as he approaches the two of you don't stir your slumber.

"Asmo, I n-"

"You both need a bath. Lord Diavolo bailed the Alpha zone as soon as you made it past the barricade early. Barbatos told me to tell you, that Lord Diavolo has already started paperwork on your behalf and to see to it that Mc receives all that she needs." His brother slowly sweeps back some of your hair with a relieved look. He knows his brother is no threat, most Alphas would have his brothers head for touching what is theirs, but the deep sigh of relief that leaves his brother as he pulls his hand back makes his brows raise.

"I am just so glad that the Etherals marked her. Otherwise you might have been stupid." He smiles sweetly. Asmodeus can see the question in his brothers eyes as he gives a laugh and covers his lips. "Who knew a human would bend the Avatar of Pride."

He has comment, but Asmo holds his hands up quickly, "Take her to the house and clean her up. We'll talk about it later." He rubs his shoulder before bouncing away merrily.

Looking down at you in such dissary in his bed brings a smile to his face. It's where you now belong and the pride in his chest seeing you so at ease in his sheets only make that pesky feeling that still wiggles in his chest grow. It isn't so bad, so pesky and annoying anymore. Perhaps he'll let it continue to grow and over take him...

He can't help but scoff. Love. Such an odd feeling...

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#obey me #obey me!#obey me lucifer #obey me! lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x mc #alpha lucifer #omega reader

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kiasnocturnality · 1 year

Text

✩ ──── 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃?

✩⋆ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: Khione 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: yes the title is a Genshin reference, yes I was having horny dragon man brainrot 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW content, MDNI, smut, temperature play, Khione being a condescending bastard, pussydrunk! Khione, oral (f. receiving), ice

. * ⋆ . · 　. KHIONE

You squirmed atop the fur pelts beneath you, back arching up from the plush mattress as you tried to shuffle away for a moment of reprieve but strong arms around your thighs would allow no such thing. Your fingers threaded through his hair, pushing back the white streak at the front of his head and making your hand brush against the base of his horns in the process, earning a low groan that vibrated through your quivering pussy.

Khione was eating you out like a man starved, his chin already dripping with one of your previous orgasms as his long, forked tongue lapped against your folds and occasionally dipped into your hole before lewdly slurping at your juices. As if his draconic tongue wasn’t enough to drive you mad with pleasure by itself, the piercing in the middle of it continuously rolled against your clit, applying additional friction that had you squirming so much he had to press you down.

You had come to realise not too long ago that this was becoming less and less about you and more about the dragon Lord between your legs becoming increasingly pussydrunk with each lick of his tongue.

“Khione…” You had meant to use a warning tone as you felt your abdomen tense with your impending orgasm but it fell into a whine as your hands grabbed at his horns, fingers tangling through some of the little silvrum chains on cuffs that adorned them. He let out a low moan at the feeling of your hands gripping his now sensitive horns and began to slide his tongue in and out of you to lap up your leaking wetness.

You let out a shriek that fell upon deaf ears when suddenly a bitingly cold sensation washed over your pussy. You looked down between your legs with wide eyes to see that your lover’s panted breaths were now visible in the thin air between your thighs. Khione’s lungs filtered out the air and condensed it to a much colder temperature – cold enough that he could breathe a fog which would rapidly solidify to ice should he so wish – and you knew that it was a concentrated effort for him to keep his breath at a normal temperature. When he got lost in his thoughts or fell asleep, you would see his breath leave his lips in little puffs of cold and it was always an adorable sight to see but now it was making you near thrash at the sudden feeling against the most intimate part of your body.

Shrill moans poured from your lips as you babbled and tried to string together a sentence between the sheer cold and overwhelming pleasure that the dragon was laying upon you. “Khione! It’s cold! Please!” You managed to get out loudly and his tongue withdrew from you in favour of sucking down on your clit, his mouth warming some as he looked up at you with those striking violet-blue eyes, his slitted pupils so thin in this moment of lucidity as he looked up at you.

“Just relax, precious.” He punctuated his words with a kiss to your messy pussy, glistening like fresh snow with the mix of your arousal and his saliva covering it, “I’m sure you can take it… It just had you gushing into my mouth after all.” He licked a long stripe through your slit, assuring that his piercing caught on your clit again, “It’s what you’re meant for, isn’t it? Dripping all over my face like a slut if that’s what I’ve told you to do…” His lips curled up into a smile that revealed his maw of pointed teeth, only the ones at the very front resembling those of a human. But you trusted him to not hurt you with those fangs that were made to hunt just about every other creature upon the earth. He let out a shaky sigh against your flushed skin and it came out as a cold cloud once more before he delved straight back into your sweetness like you were the midwinter banquet itself you tried to push him away as his lips encased your clit and he rolled his freezing tongue against your sensitive nub but instead your thighs seemed to tense around either side of his head, pulling him in even if your hands were pushing him away.

Khione let out a long groan at the feeling of your plush thighs on either side of your head and laughed lowly when you shrieked as a thin sheet of ice formed upon his tongue and he pressed it to your feverish slit that melted it within seconds.

“Khione, you’re being mean!” You whined as he turned his head into your thigh to muffle his laughter, pressing his lips there in freezingly feverish kisses, grazing his teeth over the tender flesh as though he were going to bite but never actually clamping down. He relished in your little sigh of relief when he rose up between your legs and your watery, dazed eyes fell to the obvious outline of his cock beneath his black palazzo trousers. Your wetness glistened all over his mouth and chin, even on the tip of his nose and a little on his cheeks, none quite reaching the black scales that crept along just the outermost edges of his cheekbones.

“Mean?” He asked, raising his brow and you knew by the patronising tone in his voice that you had slipped up and made things worse for yourself. “I’m being mean?” You sank back into the pillows as he loomed over you closer and closer, slightly shaking your head as your eyes flitted between his purple-blue ones. “I’m just giving your body what it needs, even if you don’t know it.” A slight groan fell from his mouth as his eyes left your face in favour of your exposed breasts and he leaned down over you more. The silvrum chain that hung between his pierced nipples fell against your belly as he loomed closer and a mischievous part of you longed to take hold of it and use it to demand what you wanted, to put an end to this teasing but you knew better. Such a threat would be empty against him as you could never tug on it enough to hurt him – even in their human form, dragons were covered in armoured scales, only they were small enough to resemble skin unless you looked really, really close and they gleamed just enough to give his skin a constant dewy glow. He was such a pretty bastard and you could curse both his beauty and incessant teasing at once.

His blackened hands reached for your breast and he brushed a warm thumb over your soft nipple, your body heated not only by the nearby fireplace but by the thrumming of your heart in your state of arousal. “Look right here…” He cooed quietly before diving down to harshly suck on the peak of your breast, his mouth instantly dropping in temperature, prompting you to squeal and tangle your fingers in his hair as your thighs bracketed his ribs. One of his hands cradled your side while the other cupped your other breast from beneath, groping the plush flesh. “See?” He hummed as he pulled away, admiring how your arousal and his spit was now smeared over your breast – how he loved to make a mess of you. “You might say that you don’t like it but look stiff bud right here…” A noise like a low hum, almost a growl left him, “She likes it.” You could do nothing to stop him as he went to give your other breast the same treatment and you wondered if it was worth pushing his head back down between your thighs if only to shut him up. Oh how you wanted to wipe that smug grin right off his handsome face. He was purposely making as many lewd suckling noises as he could and moaning at the sensation of your soft breast within his mouth just to lure out all your flustered little reactions and it was working well.

Your head fell to the side to avoid when he would look up at you through his dark lashes and it prompted him to release your nipple from his glacial mouth with a wet pop. His hand reached up to grab your cheeks, squishing them between his fingers as he made you look directly at him right before his palm slid downwards to rest against your throat. A single tear had strayed from your eye in the face of the pleasure he laved upon you and his long tongue licked a stripe up your cheek to catch it and taste the salt of it.

Right after, his mouth was crashing upon yours in a messy kiss, parting your lips to make you taste yourself on his tongue still, feeling his labret ring press against your lips too. The kiss served as a decent enough distraction from how he was untying the sash at his waist and lining his cock up to your dripping hole. You moaned contentedly as his fingers gently entwined with yours and he brought your hands to your chest, his touch so soft and gentle that you foolishly believed his teasing to be done until he wrapped his hand around your crossed wrists to pin them just beneath your breasts.

“You know… you make the most helpless-” You sucked in a little gasp as he pushed the tip into your waiting entrance, “- pathetic-” his free hand trailed over the plain of your belly, “-adorable little noises when I tease you like this.” His thumb hovered over your swollen clit and you mustered your best glare – not a very good one considering your circumstances – as he continued to sink into you. There was a twinkle in his bright eyes as he opened his mouth and let his tongue loll out, and you fruitlessly fought against where he pinned your hands down.

“Don’t you fucking da- ah!” You let out a shrill gasp as his ice-cold saliva fell onto your clit and he rubbed it in with his thumb.

“Yeah… keep making those noises for me, precious…”

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#✧･ﾟINTO THE FOREST #✩⋆ﾟKHIONE #dragon oc #dragon oc x reader #dragon x reader #terato #terato x reader #monster oc #monster boyfriend #monster boyfriend x reader

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foxyanon · 5 months

Text

The Vampiress and the Dane: Part 1

Summary: I suck at summaries, but this is based on a conversation I did with AI Sihtric and my OC, Corvina.

Pairing: Sihtric Kjartansson x Corvina

Word Count: 4,500

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

TW: Sexual themes, blood, violence, older woman/younger man dynamic

Part 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from The Last Kingdom nor do I own any of the images used.

Dividers by @arcielee and @saradika-graphics

He hated her. Absolutely despised her. Couldn’t stand the very sight of her. At least, that’s what he told himself every night when those irritating thoughts of her found their way to the forefront of his mind, his hand sliding beneath the waistband of his breeches to fist his cock, her name falling from his lips as he pictured her writhing in pleasure beneath him when he spilled himself in his hand.

The woman he both hated and craved for nearly three decades. No, not a woman. A vampire, a very old and powerful one at that. Corvina.

He hated her pale skin, as soft and beautiful as the snow of the lands of Norway where she was born. He couldn’t stand her perfect ruby red lips, so kissable but hiding those sharp pearly, white fangs of hers. He despised that long dark brown hair, the way it fell in soft waves down her back when she wore it loose and how it contrasted with her skin, making her look even more unnaturally stunning. The worst was her eyes. Those damn gorgeous and absolutely mesmerizing blood red eyes. He swore just one look was enough to cause any sane man to fall under her spell, the result of her vampiric compulsion.

But he’d be lying because he knew that wasn’t it. After thirty years of knowing Corvina, Sihtric knew it wasn’t magic she used to charm men like him. It was her gentle and caring nature, so unlike the others of her kind. It was the way she was always there for him and his friends, never with a harsh word or judgement. He was so used to being talked down to by Saxons and Danes alike, be it for his paganism or his status as Kjartan’s bastard. But not with her, never with her. No, her sweet voice and kind words always caused his cheeks to flush red and he hated it. She should be spiteful and cruel, like he had been taught all vampires are, but no. She had to go and be different, so caring and thoughtful and gentle. Sihtric had wanted to scream to the gods themselves that they were truly cruel to curse such an amazing woman to be an immortal beast, destined to live her life in the shadows.

He remembers the first time Uhtred had told Finan, Osferth and him about her. He was barely 20, a fresh faced warrior in his lord's service. It was 886 at the Battle of Beamfleot when Uhtred decided to attack the fortress in an attempt to free Aethelflaed from the clutches of Erik and Sigefrid. There wasn’t enough men to successfully storm the fortress and Uhtred knew it, so he said he called in a favor and everyone was thrilled for the aid. How was Sihtric supposed to know it would be the very being who would haunt his every waking thought and even dreams? He remembers seeing her walking into the camp the first night, how she seemed to appear from the shadows beyond the light of the campfire. He was startled by her sudden appearance, so speechless as she gave him that little knowing grin that he almost didn’t notice the predatory gleam in her unusual eyes. Uhtred had introduced Corvina to the others and Sihtric could only stutter out a half-assed greeting to her beautiful face, before she turned and started discussing how many men she brought and plans to get Uhtred to Aethelfaed. He remembers how stunning she looked in the heat of battle, cutting down her enemies with ruthless efficiency in that damned black armor looking every inch a warrior queen that he knew she was. His breeches felt tighter when he saw her covered in blood, her eyes glowing fiercely and fangs on full display when she dragged Sigefrid in front of Uhtred, tossing his body to the ground like he weighed nothing. The siege was a success, Aethelflaed and Erik eloping and leaving East Anglia behind to start their new life, thanks to the financial contributions of none other than Corvina. Finan and Osferth gave Sihtric a hard time afterwards, saying that he was acting like a fool in love. He vehemently denied their claims, saying he was just surprised a creature like her would help them and he worried for the price she would ask. She never asked for anything.

Then of course there was that whole situation with Skade and Bloodhair, the way that damned witch cursed his lord and friend. Uhtred’s health had been failing fast and they weren’t going to make it to Dunholm, so he made the choice to seek out Corvina for her help. Of course, she opened the doors to her castle and removed the curse, never once asking for payment for her aid. Sihtric had tried to offer her one of his armrings (after Uhtred told him to give it to her) and she simply smiled, saying she wouldn’t take anything and that she was happy to help a friend. That was the first time Sihtric snarled at her, deciding then and there that she must be a manipulative creature, because no one is that nice for no reason. He hated her and he hated that hurt look in her eyes after he yelled at her even more, but his pride wouldn’t let him apologize for his outburst. No, in his youthful ignorance and arrogance, he doubled down and simply glared at her. She was a vampire, a creature of the night. A beautiful monster. He went back to his wife later on, but Sidgeflaed was only a sorry reminder of who he really wanted. He remembers taking his wife from behind that first night back, the sight of her brown hair reminding him of Corvina. It’s no surprise when he said another woman’s name in his marriage bed that his wife would be angry, leaving him and taking the children with her. He truly loathed Corvina then, blaming her for his failed marriage because he refused to accept that he was well and truly in love with her.

When Uhtred failed to regain Bebbanburg from his estranged cousin, Wihtger in 910, the men fled to the safety of Corvina’s castle and Sihtric was practically seething in frustration. He hated that they came knocking on her door looking like kicked dogs and she just let them in with a sympathetic smile, telling them they were welcome to stay as long as they needed to. Uhtred had firmly told Sihtric to mind his manners, because they couldn’t afford to get tossed out now and if he snapped on Corvina again, they would really make the square. Sihtric had bit his tongue for most of their stay, seeing her move about the castle like a damned angel amongst men. She dressed in the varying styles of the world, but he remembers that Grecian gown the most of all. The fabric was a beautiful shade of purple, something he’s never seen even the wealthiest kings of this land wear. The fabric flowed over her soft curves, her hair pulled back and pinned with golden laurel leaves. She looked like a goddess and his mouth watered at the sight of her, sitting atop the throne as she held court for her undead minions. He hated her, he told himself as he hid inside an alcove and jerked himself off, imagining burying his face between her thighs and devouring her on that very throne in front of everyone. He imagined she tasted like that ambrosia she spoke of from her time in Greece, all sweet and addicting. He felt burning shame when he came and made a mess of the wall and floor, knowing it was wrong to crave her but he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t stand the way her very existence seemed to bring about powerful emotions, and he hated not feeling in control of himself. He snapped at Finan and Osferth when he had returned to them, their mocking smiles grating on his nerves. As per usual, Corvina just had to glide up to them at that moment with her signature alluring smile on her face, asking what was wrong. Sihtric sneered at her and made some snarky remark before storming off, never seeing the knowing look on her face.

That was nearly 8 years ago now. Today, they stand in the war camp just outside Bebbanburg planning an attack. Uhtred intends to win this time and of course, he just had to ask Corvina for help. Sihtric had been avoiding her like the plague he convinced himself she was, but he couldn’t dodge her forever. She walked into the command tent, carrying herself with an authority that took the breath right out of his lungs. She was wearing her usual black armor, her dark hair braided back and not a hair out of place. She cut Sihtric a look, her red eyes piercing into his soul for a moment before she smiled brightly at Uhtred, hugging him with a laugh and a joke about how old he had gotten. Even Finan and Osferth, his own battle brothers, had hugged this despicable creature like an old friend, even though that was exactly what she was. He thought she looked just as beautiful as the first time he saw her nearly 30 years ago, before bitterly remembering that she doesn’t age due to her vampirism. His lips pressed into a thin line and he simply nodded at her, determined not to piss both her and Uhtred off if his mouth got away from him. Plans were made for an attack the next morning, her men joining the shield wall alongside Uhtred’s forces. Even if he couldn’t stand the sight of her, Sihtric knew she was a formidable ally and warrior, commanding respect from her people and instilling fear in the hearts of her enemies.

Sihtric found her later that night, standing on the edge of the field beside the coastal fortress and staring out over the moonlight grass. He knew her eyes were better suited to the darkness and she always studied the battlefield before the fight, something she claimed she learned from her time with the Roman Legion. She stood there with her hands clasped loosely behind her back, her back straight and head held high.

“If you are here to sass me, Sihtric, you will find I am not in the mood,” Corvina spoke in a calm voice, looking over her shoulder at the warrior. She couldn’t deny he had grown into a handsome man, the top half of his dark hair braided and the rest hanging in curls that would make anyone jealous. He was sporting a goatee, and she wondered what it feel like against her cold skin. He looked damned good, the muscles of his arms flexing as he crossed his arms and stood next to her. She wanted to bite him and those arms, wondered if his blood tasted as good as he smelled. She saw his jaw tense before he took a breath, looking at her with a serious expression.

“No, I am not here to sass you Corvina. I wanted to make sure you understood the gravity of what is happening tomorrow. We aren’t just reclaiming Bebbanburg for Uhtred, we are fighting for the fate of Northumbria itself,” he said firmly, already aggravated with himself for his thoughts running wild.

Corvina sighed, turning to face Sihtric with an exasperated expression. “I know what we fight for and we will not lose. You have fought on the shield wall with me before, you have seen me fight and you know I am not in the habit of losing. But I can tell from your tense stance that is not the real reason you are here, is it?”

Sihtric nodded, his eyes finding Corvinas. He always found them captivating, the red hue switching from a bright red to a deep burgundy depending on her mood. “No, I came because I wanted to make sure you will keep your end of the bargain. No feeding on the soldiers before or after the battle, your men stay in control and don’t succumb to bloodlust in the middle of the fighting, and all those other promises you’ve made,’ he replied in a tense tone, grinding his teeth together as he looked away from the pretty little vampire that had haunted him for his entire life.

She rolled her eyes and looked away, placing her hands on her hips as she looked down and shook her head, her words coming out with a defeated tone as she spoke. “You already know I will uphold my word, Sihtric. We have this conversation every time I agree to fight with you lot. By the gods, I am tired of this.”

Corvina turned to look at Sihtric, licking her red lips and staring into his eyes with an intensity the Dane didn’t quite like. “What have I ever done to you to make you hate me so? I have been nothing but a good and kind friend to you all, never betraying any of you like so many others have, and yet you treat me with the same level of animosity you did when you were 20. By the Aesir, you are 51 years old now. What in the hell have I done to you for you to hold a grudge after all these years?”

He remained silent for a moment, considering her words carefully. He knew had been harsh towards her in the past, his youthful ignorance causing him to be suspicious of the supernatural. He was older now and he knew better. He knew she was a powerful and loyal ally, but he also knew she could be ruthless and unforgiving. Admittedly, he had taken her for granted without fully appreciating the nuances of her character. After a moment he spoke, avoiding her searching gaze. “I know that you have never betrayed us and I know that you have been a good ally. But the fact remains that you are a vampire, and for most people that is enough to inspire fear and loathing.” It was a cop out, and they both knew it. He couldn’t admit to her that he just wanted to be in her presence, finding it to be both soothing and resolute, like an anchor in the eye of the hurricane.

Corvina shook her head, looking up to the stars and taking a deep breath before responding. “That might be most people, but you are not most people. I asked why you specifically hate me. It’s been 30 gods damned years, Sihtric. I have fought for you, taken hits for you and still it's not enough. I am owed an explanation at the least,” her words were firm, her tone indicating she wanted answers and she wanted them now.

Sihtric looked at her, his expression hardening as all his repressed emotions boiled over in the worst way possible. “Because you are a fucking vampire!” He exclaimed, his voice ringing out in the quiet of the night. “You drink blood for Thor’s sake! How can I trust someone like you?” He shook his head, trying to reign in his temper before spitting out. “You are a monster and I will never trust a creature like you.”

Hurt crossed Corvinas face for a split second before her own face hardened, her lips pressed into a thin line. He knew calling her monster was the one thing she hated, and he suddenly wished he could snatch the word back if it meant she wouldn’t look at him with such disdain.

“Goodnight, Sihtric,” she said in a harsh tone before suddenly turning on her heel and walking away with a stiff stride, determined not to let him see her cry. She may have been undead, but that didn’t mean she was completely heartless.

Sihtric watched Corvina retreat, feeling guilt and anger surge through him. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, but his emotions got the best of him and he started running at the mouth before he could stop himself. He started pacing, muttering under his breath trying to calm himself down. “Dammit. I need to apologize to her…but first, we have a battle to win.” He went back to his tent after several minutes of cursing himself for his actions, trying and failing to get some sleep before the battle tomorrow.

He woke early the next morning, preparing for the battle and checking on his men, making sure everything was in order. He didn’t see Corvina around the camp, but he forced himself to stay focused on the fight ahead. He needed to keep his head on right if he wanted to survive the day, but he thought to himself that Valhalla would be a preferable end after the way he acted last night.

By the time the sun starts rising over the horizon, everyone is in position on the battlefield. The two opposing forces face each other, shields up and swords in hand, the deep breath before the fighting breaks out seeming to slow time. The early morning rays shone across the field, a low fog hanging between Wihtger’s men and Uhtred’s. Corvina stands next to Sihtric, their shields locked tightly in formation as they wait with bated breath for Uhtred’s command. Despite the events of the previous night, they both have grim and determined expressions on their faces, stone cold focused on the enemy.

Once the signal was given, all hell broke loose. Wihtger’s men clashed hard with the wall, but the joint forces of Uhtred’s and Corvina’s armies were not so easily broken. The sounds of clashing metal and wood, along with the battle cries of the warriors filled the otherwise calm morning air. Once the wall finally broke, Sihtric and Corvina fought back to back, slicing through their foes with brutal efficiency. He smirked when he saw Corvina hit her stride, her supernatural speed and agility unmatched by the Scots and the rest of Wihtger’s men. He saw the moment they realized what she was, the fear in their eyes for the split second before she cut them down. He tried not to stare at her, his axe swinging through the air as he managed a fatal blow on his own enemy.

After a couple hours of fighting, Uhtred’s side had cut a swath through the usurpers' forces and Wihtger was engaged in a one on one battle with Uhtred. Sihtric and Corvina pick off a few stragglers, the rest scattering to the winds at the decisive loss only to be run down by Corvina’s vampire spawn before they reach the edge of the battlefield. She turned her back for just a second, slashing the throat of a still twitching man when a monster hunter snuck up behind Corvina. She realized what was happening just as the hunter brought a silver dagger up, driving it deep into her side. She cried out in agonizing pain, dropping her shield and bringing her sword down across the man's neck, his blood spraying across her face. She collapsed to the ground with the dagger protruding from her side, another hunter running up with an elder wood stake in his hands. Corvina hissed menacingly at him, her fangs elongated and eyes glowing dangerously as she struggled against the man.

The moment Sihtric heard Corvina cry out, he turned and his heart nearly stopped. He didn’t hesitate to charge forward, swinging his axe with precision and decapitating the hunter, pushing his body off Corvina before dropping his weapon and kneeling by her side. He quickly pulled the blade out of her side, knowing that her natural healing abilities will kick in now that the silver is removed. He tossed the blade off to the side before reaching down and scooping Corvina up into his strong arms, quickly carrying her out of harm's way. Her head lolled back as she lay in his arms, Sihtric only half aware that Uhtred stood victorious over his cousin's body as he half ran back to the camp. He heard her mumble his name and he pulled her closer, looking down at her quickly with a soft expression before turning towards where her tent was. Where she was normally so strong and independent, she now looked so vulnerable in his hold. He felt a whirlwind of emotions within him, but he pushed them aside and focused on getting her back to her tent.

“Shh, It’s okay. I’ve got you, Vina,” he whispered, ignoring anyone who tried to stop him. Once inside her tent, he moved to lay her on her bed and began removing her armor and clothes, wanting to get a good look at the wound.

She hissed in pain, feeling Sihtric remove her leather cuirass and pulling her ruined tunic up enough to expose the wound to his focused gaze. She tightly gripped the furs beneath her, her breathing heavy as Sihtric grabbed a bucket of water and clean rag to begin cleaning the blood away from the gash in her side.

“I need to feed, it’s the only way I will heal. I know you hate me for being a vampire, as you so kindly put it last night, but this is who I am, Sihtric,” she said through gritted teeth, her fangs glinting in the low light of the tent as she looked into his mismatched eyes. The hurt from him calling her the one thing she hated was still fresh in her mind, but she refused to stoop to his level even if she wanted to.

He looked at her, his expression softening when he saw how much pain she was in. He hated seeing her hurt and hated even more that she was right, she needed to drink blood if this wound was going to heal properly. That thought caused him to remember exactly what she was and his usual sneer found it’s way back to his face. “Fine, but don’t think for a second that I’m doing this because I like being your snack. You’re a dangerous creature and I hate having anything to do with vampires,” he growled, his jaw clenching as the image of her feeding from him sent his mind racing with less than innocent thoughts.

Corvina sighs exasperatedly and shakes her head, sitting up with a groan and a wince as she clutches her side. She gives Sihtric an expectant look, her tone questioning. “Oh, so you go from despising me for being a vampire to offering yourself up to be my breakfast? How generous of you, Sihtric. You told me last night that you didn’t trust me, so what the hell changed for you between then and now?”

He glared at her, his face flush with embarrassment and anger as she called him out. He knew he was being hypocritical, but he didn’t need Corvina telling him that. His frustration at the whole situation came out first, and he naturally lashed out at her. “Oh just shut up and feed from me already! You should just be acting like a predator, a monster like any other supernatural entity but you just have to talk to damn much.”

There it was again, that derogatory term. Corvina took a breath and stood up from her bed, speaking in a harsh voice that belayed her hurt. “Fuck you, Sihtric Kjartansson.” She slowly made her way to the entrance of her tent, determined to flag down one of her own people if it meant getting away from the most infuriating and oblivious asshole in all of Northumbria.

“Don’t you dare leave! You are injured and need to rest,” Sihtric shouted as he jumped to his feet, running up and grabbing Corvina’s arm by surprise, pulling her back towards him. His grip was firm, intended to keep her close to him and not to harm her. Not that he could anyway, seeing as how she had an impressive threshold for pain. His breath was hot on her ear as he whispered menacingly, the thought of her soft lips on another person causing jealousy to rear its ugly head within him. “If you think you can just go out there and find someone else to feed from…think again.”

Corvina growled back, turning and shoving Sihtric off her. Even injured, she was still stronger than a human and he stumbled backwards with the force she used against him. “Do not presume to touch me or give me any commands. I have put up with your unjust treatment of me for long enough. Your stubbornness and pride has cost you a friend this day. Enjoy your victory, Sihtric, and be gone from my tent when I return,” she snarled at him for the first time in their long friendship, letting the startled man see her righteous fury painted across her face. She knew she looked every inch of the ancient vampire she was, her fangs elongated and eyes glowing the brightest red Sihtric had ever seen. She closed her eyes and shook her head, muttering something under her breath about stubborn men and how they are the same in every age and land. She then turned on her heel and left her tent, leaving Sihtric behind with his scattered thoughts. He stood there staring as the flap of the tent blew in the soft early morning breeze and the sounds of people returning to camp filled his ears.

After the initial shock of seeing her lash out at him in that manner wore off, all Sihtric could think about was how his breeches suddenly felt a lot tighter and he hated everything about it. He groaned and ran a hand down his face, feeling both frustrated and aroused at the way everything went down. Frustrated at his own stubbornness and prejudice against vampires despite her best efforts to prove otherwise, and aroused at getting to see her in all her glory and have it directed at him. Despite himself, he thought she looked beyond magnificent and he finally understood what it was that had made her the vampire queen in that moment. After a few moments, he left her tent and walked out into the busy camp as the high from their win filled the air. He couldn’t help but envy the lucky person who she would feed on, wanting nothing more than to be in their shoes before the shame of thinking such thoughts came back to the forefront of his mind. As he made his way through the war camp and back to Uhtred’s side, his first thought was how he hoped he hadn’t pushed her completely away. His second? He wondered if he groveled enough at her feet if she would take pity on him and let him fall into her bed rather than someone else after the celebrations tonight.

Gods help him not muck this up, because he wasn’t sure he could handle another night of just him and his hand.

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#sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #Sihtric x vampire!oc #older women and younger men #vampire!oc

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