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character a and b are childhood friends where b gets kidnapped by vampires during a raid of their village. cut to later in life where a is determined to become a vampire hunter to kill the vampire that took b and they come across a vampire that is basically on the verge of death and it’s a, their childhood friend that they watched get taken from them when they were younger.
I see red~ Park Hee soon
Wearning: +18,smut, age-gap
Request: yes!
The room was wrapped in a soft darkness, barely broken by the faint reflections of the city lights filtering through the half-closed curtains. The harsh scent of tobacco hung in the air, mixing with the cold smell of leather and your own sweet, intoxicating scent.
He was lying on the bed, his white shirt unbuttoned to his chest, a lit cigarette between his fingers. His dark eyes were watching you with an intensity that seemed to dig into you, sizing you up as if trying to decipher something hidden. There was a coldness in his gaze, but also a latent desire that he didn’t even bother to hide.
You were standing in front of him, wearing that provocative dress that he himself had had delivered to your apartment a few days before. Scarlet red, tight, with a deep cut on the back and a hem so short it looked like a dangerous weapon. It wasn’t your style, but it was clear that your style didn’t matter to him. It was all a power play, and you were as eager as you were defiant.
“I asked you yesterday,” he said hoarsely, blowing away the smoke with disarming calm. “To bring me the report by nine. Instead, you chose to keep me waiting.”
Your heart was pounding in your chest, but your smile was flawless. “I thought you might need something more stimulating than the usual report, sir.”
A brow rose on his face, amused and intrigued. “Oh, really? And what on earth do you have in mind?”
You slowly approached, your heels sinking into the soft carpet as you moved with a carefully constructed confidence. Every step was calculated, but beneath your skin you could feel the heat spreading, an excitement mixed with a nervousness that was hard to ignore.
“I think he’ll have to be a little more patient to find out,” you murmured, your voice barely audible as you sat on the edge of the bed, the fabric of your dress sliding sensually against your skin.
His low, raspy laugh slid through the air, heavier than he’d let on. His cigarette still in his fingers, he let the ash fall into an ashtray on the nightstand. “Patience has never been my strong point, but maybe I could make an exception, given how much effort you put into showing up like this…”
You smiled and turned on the radio, where some sensual music was playing and you began to undress seductively. His eyes darkened as he watched you, the cigarette forgotten between his fingers. The music filled the room, a slow, sensual rhythm that seemed to echo the beating of your hearts. You moved with a grace that was both deliberate and instinctive, your hands slowly unzipping your dress, revealing inch by inch of your smooth, flawless skin.
He sat up, his gaze following every movement, every curve of your body. The shirt fell open, exposing his chest, the muscles taut and defined. His breathing grew heavier, a low growl escaping his throat as you let the dress pool at your feet, leaving you in nothing but a black lace bra and panties.
"You're playing a dangerous game."
You smiled and straddled him, touching his shoulders. "When it comes to playing with you... I always want to take a risk" you whispered, sucking his earlobe.
A shudder ran through him at the contact, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "You're a fucking tease," he muttered, his voice rough with desire. He leaned into your touch, his lips brushing against your neck as he inhaled your scent.
His hands slid up your sides, tracing the curves of your body before unhooking your bra with a flick of his fingers. It fell away, leaving your breasts bare to his hungry gaze. He palmed them roughly, his thumbs circling your hardening nipples.
"I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll forget your own name," he promised darkly, biting down on the sensitive skin of your neck. "You'll be screaming my name all night long."
His hips bucked up against yours, the hard length of his erection pressing against your core through the thin fabric of his pants. He was already so hard, so ready for you. It was a heady feeling, knowing that he wanted you this badly.
You grinded your hips as you looked at him seductively. "What are you waiting for daddy?"
His eyes flashed with a primal hunger at your words, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Oh, you want me to be your daddy, baby girl?" he growled, his hands gripping your ass and pulling you harder against him. "I'll give you what you need."
He flipped you onto your back, looming over you with a predatory gaze. His hands tore at your panties, ripping them off your body with a strength that bordered on violence. He wasn't gentle, and you didn't want him to be. You wanted him to take you, to claim you, to mark you as his.
He unbuckled his belt with swift, jerky movements, his pants falling to the floor.
Meanwhile the sensual music still filled the room making the tension even more tangible.
He kicked off his pants and crawled over you, his naked body pressing you into the mattress. His skin was hot, his muscles taut and defined. You could feel every inch of him, the hard planes of his chest, the ridges of his abs, the thick, heavy length of his cock pressing against your thigh.
He captured your mouth in a brutal kiss, his tongue invading your mouth, claiming you. His hands roamed your body possessively, squeezing and pinching, leaving marks on your skin. He bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, swallowing your cry of pain and pleasure.
"I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight," he promised, his voice a dark, dangerous purr. "Until the only thing you remember is the feeling of my cock inside you."
"Omg yes" you say, touch his abs.
He smirked at your touch, his abs flexing under your fingers. "You like that, baby girl?" he taunted, grinding his hips against yours. "You like feeling how strong I am?"
He reached between your legs, his fingers finding your soaking wet core. He circled your clit with the pad of his thumb, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp. "Fuck, you're so wet for me," he groaned, slipping a finger inside you.
He added another finger, pumping them in and out, stretching you, preparing you for his thick cock. His thumb never stopped its torment on your clit, driving you closer and closer to the edge.
"Not yet," he ordered, pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his mouth. He sucked them clean, his eyes locked on yours. "I want to taste you when you come on my cock."
He positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock pressing against your slick folds. He paused, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that stole your breath. "Beg for it," he demanded, his voice low and commanding. "Beg me to fuck you."
His hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin. He was holding himself back, waiting for your plea. The anticipation was killing you, your body aching with need. You were so close, so desperate for him to fill you, to claim you completely.
"Please," you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. "Please, daddy, fuck me. I need you inside me. I need you to fuck me hard and make me yours."
Hee soon slaps his cock on your pussy and then enters you with a sharp thrust.
You gasped as he slammed into you, his thick cock stretching you wide. He didn't give you time to adjust, pulling out and thrusting back in with a brutal force that stole your breath. His hips snapped against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room along with your moans and his guttural groans.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he grunted, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. "Your pussy is gripping me like a vice. You were made for my cock, weren't you, baby girl?"
He leaned down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, biting and sucking roughly. His other hand snaked between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing it in tight circles. The dual sensations had you arching off the bed, your nails scoring down his back.
"Yes, daddy, yes!" you cried out, your voice hoarse with pleasure.
You pull his hair as you moan and slam your hips into his.
He hissed in pain and pleasure as you pulled his hair, his hips jerking forward, burying himself even deeper inside you. "Fuck, yes," he groaned, his voice ragged. "Mark me, baby girl. Make me yours."
He matched your movements, slamming into you with a ferocity that bordered on violent. The bed creaked and shook beneath you, the headboard banging against the wall with each thrust. He was relentless, his pace punishing, determined to wring every ounce of pleasure from your body.
His hand left your clit, moving to your throat where he wrapped his fingers around it, squeezing just enough to make you lightheaded. "Come for me," he demanded, his eyes blazing with intensity. "Come on my cock like a good girl."
His thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing it in tight, fast circles, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your vision blurred, your body tensing as the coil inside you snapped, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.
You scratch his back and scream his name. "Soo good."
He roared as your nails raked down his back, your screams of pleasure pushing him over the edge. His hips stuttered, his cock pulsing inside you as he came, filling you with his hot seed. "Fuck, yes," he groaned, his face buried in the crook of your neck. "Take it all, baby girl. Every last drop."
He collapsed on top of you, his body heavy and sweaty. His heart raced against your chest, his breathing ragged. He stayed inside you, unwilling to pull out, to break the connection. His hands roamed your body possessively, tracing the curves and contours of your form.
"That's my good girl," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. "You did so well. Daddy's proud of you."
He rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you were sprawled across his chest. His fingers threaded through your hair, gently untangling the mess. The music had long since faded into the background, replaced by the sound of your labored breathing and the distant hum of the city.
Rook: Mm? Mon Tricksteur, you leave so many fingerprints everywhere. I've found yet another set! What are they doing on this random gargoyle? Must you touch everything?
MC: How do you know they're mine?
Rook: The only other set on here is the Roi d' dragons, am I to assume that you came here together?
MC:
Rook:
MC: *pulling out perfume* Say another word and your musk gets ruined--
Rook: Ah! Forgive me, I was simply suggesting that you and him must have---!! -MMMGHH NOOOOOOOOOOO---!!!!!
*SPRAY SPRAY SPRAY SPRAY*
MC: ENJOY EXPLAINING THIS TO VIL---
<><><><><>
*Malleus somewhere on campus*
*sniff sniff*
Mal: LILIA! LILIA!!! I CAN SMELL CHILD OF MAN FROM HERE TODAY!! MMMMMMMM
A special kind of intimacy between characters
[Not restricted to romantic dynamics!]
- I tear bread into smaller pieces to feed them to you, as if I am Jesus, or a mother bird. You may view me as a savior but I would kill for you
- Being there for the other person when they're sick - In a gross, disgusting way. Holding them unwaveringly through the wretched and repulsive, unflinchingly. Don't apologise, just survive. I'd do it again.
- You're scary, but I'm scarier. You don't know that yet, but I hope you won't fear me when you do.
- You're scary, and thank God for that. I'm more than happy to close my eyes when you use it on others. I am a coward.
- One character knowing exactly what the other one would really like to ask for, but is too self conscious or selfless to. Thus, they do it and provide, without the other person needing to outright request it. The self conscious character always makes sure the other one knows it's not obligated and they're always free to decline, and the other one nods firmly, knowing that, and still doing it.
- Sitting next to each other at the end of the world. Because it won't be okay. But they've accepted that
- "You destroyed the thing I love and I can't forgive you for it." "I can't forgive myself either." "I still can't hate you despite that." "I can."
- "Please hate me" "No."
- One character understanding when the other is in too low of a state to act like a decent person currently, and so they don't step over those lines that they'd normally tolerate. The first character holds the other one responsible for things later nonetheless, when they're able to actually carry it
- Two characters sharing the negative perceptions and opinions they've had of each other over the years. This can either lead to a realization that, respectfully, out of deep understanding of each other, they decide to not stay in touch with each other again from now on. Or, it can lead to a realization that thanks to this understanding they now have, they're more ready to become closer and have managed to clear the air with this conversation
- Characters of notably different ages talk and reflect on time that has passed between them. They feel a connection over how different their circumstances were. The younger one audibly wishes they could've done or changed something significant, to which the older character pointedly and gently tells them it wasn't their place to. Let us old crooks handle the tough things. (It wasn't your fault you spent formative years like this. I'm sorry you had to)
POV: you come out as transgender to the OUAW crew
Gricko: cool 👍 *doesn't make a big deal out of it*
Gideon: I've got your back pal. If anyone makes you uncomfortable just say the word and I'll punch them in the mouth >:D You're safe as long as you're with me
Kremy: Okay are you planning on having surgery. No no no I mean I'm willing to pay for it, I don't care what junk you have. No, it's no problem at all. We'll just get our hands on home blackmail money and we'll be all set. I know a surgeon. I can call him up right now if you need me. Don't worry about it, I'm gonna take care of everything. Now let's pick out a new outfit for ya
Frost: Oh? What pronouns do you want me to use? Am I conjugating that correctly? Are there certain terms you want to be called? Is it okay if I still call you that? Oh okay I'll used that instead from now on. Feel free to correct me if I remember the wrong name. I'm kinda bad at names for some reason, but I promise I'll try really hard.
Torbek: THAT'S AMAZING TORKBEK IS SO PROUD OF YOU!!! TORBEK THINKS YOU'RE SO BRAVE TO BE YOURSELF!! IT'S OKAY TO FEEL SCARED THOUGH. TORBEK IS HERE FOR YOU. WE CAN BE SCARED TOGETHER
Twig: That's so cool!! I'm gonna make a gender reveal cake for you!!! We should have a party!! Do you like chocolate cake or strawberry cake?? Ohh!! What about ice cream cake? Is dairy okay for you?? Oh we could sing songs and give you presents. It's gonna be like your new birthday!!!
Reader Insert Imagines
Durarara!! Edition
Scenario: Approaching you while you pound back drinks at the bar.
Imagine being Dracula's fourth Bride and trying to seduce and feed on Van Helsing.
Rather than climb down from the roof that you had landed on, you jump, your fangs retracting and your face going to the pretty one that Dracula had chosen you for. The cobblestone streets felt cold against your bare feet but it was something that you barely noticed as you encroached on the handsome Van Helsing. You offered him your hand. You weren’t offended when he didn’t take it.
“What a little brave fool you are,” You said, tutting at Van Helsing. The man is struggling with a weapon - quite a big one. You didn’t know what it was, but you were sure that you would be darting out of the way when he got it working. “Don’t you know - it is so much easier to be on our side?”
“The side of monsters? Of killers?” He argued, propelling himself backwards with his feet.
“Being a killer of killers still makes you a killer, Van Helsing,” I smiled, matching his pushes with each step. Keeping the same distance, but also readying yourself for flight. “You and I - we could have some fun without some killing, couldn’t we?”
You ran your hand down your body, the thin satin dress that was clinging to it didn’t leave much to the imagination. “Your blood - it could keep me beautiful for you - I would only need just a little taste...”
“I’d hate to see what a big taste looks like if that’s a little one,” He said, as you both heard the yelp of a man being dropped by one of my sister-brides. You chuckled.
“Witty too - I enjoy a laugh.”
“Dinner and a show - I’d be the whole package, but I’m going to have to take a rain check.”
Whatever the weapon was, he got it working, starting to fire out arrows from it. You ran for cover, behind a farmhouse, and only then did you let your wings out. You were far too smart to make yourself a larger target right in front of him with the weapon.
“It’s a date, Van Helsing,” You said, as you flew to your sister’s aid.
Requested by: Anonymous
