WELL, I’M STARVED!

♡ a low purr kicks up deep in his chest of its own accord as alastor performs his little dance against him, his arm tightening to a bruising degree around his hips to keep him pinned close. he all but forgets about the fading burn with the heat of alastor's tongue against his. it's an addiction greater than nicotine, and thrice as deadly. he chases the red-stained lips as they pull away, his hips rolling in tandem, but grins as alastor attempts to taunt him. a cat and mouse game. it's not husk who leads in depravity.

♡ " what can I say? " he hums lowly as he grabs alastor's hip to turn him around and press him back against the frame of the open window behind him with a punishing grip. he doesn't allow alastor's hips to escape for long and presses into him with a rolling thrust — just to prove a point. " you corrupted me. bet you get off on that, too. turnin' me into a pervert. and just for you. "

when  husk  crowds  into  him  ⸻pressing  flush  against  his  chest  &  driving  his  hips  forward  in  a  hard,   deliberate  roll⸻   alastor’s  breath  hitches,   his  heels  leaving  the  floorboards  for  a  fraction  of  a  second  as  he  is  pinned  flat.

“oh,  dear!”  he  gasps,   the  words  catching  in  his  throat  as  husk’s  hips  press  ruthlessly  against  his  own.   as scandalized as he seems by his husband’s audacity, he  doesn't  even  try  to  hide  the  desperate,  needy  twitch  of  his  thighs,   tilting  his  own hips  up  to  meet  the  friction,   greedy  for  the  heavy,  thick  weight  of  him.   “is  that  all  it  takes  to  make  you  show  off,   hm?”

being  restrained  like  this;   shoulders  pressed  hard  against  the  wood,   hips  completely  trapped  under  his  husband’s  considerable,   dense  weight,   is  a  sickeningly  sweet  sort  of  grounding.   for  a  creature  made  of  taut  flesh,   shadows,   &  endless,   frayed  nerves,   husk’s  heavy  hands  are  the  only  things  that  can  actually  hold  him  together.   pure  domestic  enrichment,   the  thrill  of  surrendering  his  physical  autonomy  to  the  only  man  in  this  hellhole  of  an  afterlife  he  trusts  not  to  tear  him  apart⸻   unless  he  asks  for  it.   

a  low,   dizzying  heat  pools  low  in  his  gut,   thick  &  heavy.   his  smile  stretches  to  a  manic,   trembling  peak,   his  face  flushing  a  modest,   bruised  red.

“you  speak  of  corruption  as  if  it  weren’t  the  most  exquisite  thing  i’ve  ever  cultivated  on  you⸻   aside  from  your  good  palate,”   he  wraps  both  of  his  slender  arms  tightly  around  husk’s  neck,   digging  his  claws  gently  into  the  coarse  fur  of  his  shoulders.   behind  them,   the  drop  from  the  open  window  is  steep  &  lethal,   the  cold  night  air  biting  at  the  back  of  his  neck  deliciously.

with  a  low,   wicked  chuckle,   he  purposely  lets  his  upper  body  slump  backward,   spilling  over  the  sill  into  the  empty  air.   his  spine  arches  gracefully  over  the  drop,   his  weight  entirely  suspended  over  the  dizzying  height⸻   held  up  only  by  the  brute  strength  of  husk’s  unforgiving  grip  on  his  hips.   alastor  watches  his  face,   drinking  in  the  sudden,   protective  tightening  of  those  strong  arms  every  time  he  moves.

“i  made  you  a  pervert,”   alastor  savours  the  statement,   pupils  blown  wide,   utterly  drunk  both  on  the  vertigo  &  the  safety  of  his  husband’s  hold.   like  the  cat  who  got  the  cream. he  pulls  himself  back  up  by  husk’s  collar,   leaning  in  until  his  lips  brush  the  warm,   scent-heavy  crook  of  his  neck.   &  he  bites.   his  fangs  sink  into  the  thick  scruff  of  his  neck,   a  sharp,   territorial  nip  that  draws  a  low,   needy  moan  straight  from  alastor’s  own  throat⸻   a  sound  he  doesn’t  bother  to  suppress,   letting  it  vibrate  directly  against  husk’s  skin.   he  drags  his  tongue  over  the  small,   wet  bite  mark  he  just  made.

“& i will ruin you further. i want you so intricately perverse that no one else in this wretched pit could ever begin to satisfy your disgusting cravings, only me. 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛,”   he  rasps,   voice  dropping  to  a  low,   syrupy  purr.   as  he  rolls  his  hips  in  a  slow,   agonizing  circle  over  the  shameless  evidence  of  husk’s  arousal⸻   pressed  snugly  against  him, “it’s only fair for us to enjoy the process, don’t you think?”

nsfw content. please proceed with caution.

God, you look so good like this.

Do you see what you do to me?

I've been wanting to do this for so long.

Please... Don't stop.

I love the taste of you.

Don't make me beg.

Look at you, taking me like a good girl/boy.

Are you going to be good for me?

Use me. I'm all yours.

Just so you're aware, I'm not wearing any underwear right now.

Do you know how hard it is for me not to just bend you over and fuck you right now?

You've been teasing me all night... Don't act shy now.

Look at me. I want to see your face while you come.

That's it... You're doing so well baby...

I haven't been able to stop thinking about you.

Lay back. Let me take care of you.

How many times do you think I can make you come?

Take all of me... I know you can do it.

I'm so wet/hard right now.

Look at you, all hot and bothered when I haven't even touched you yet.

You're cute when you beg.

Fuck... I'm so close.

Come for me.

You come when I say you can, okay?

Show me what that pretty mouth can do.

I wanna see you on your knees.

Let me come... Please let me come.

Your mouth feels so fucking good wrapped around me like that.

I want you to come around my fingers.

Fuck, you're so tight.

additional action - based prompts.

pin: for our muses to have sex up against a wall / door / window.

mouth: for one muse to initiate oral sex with the other.

impatience: for our muses to have sex in a semi - public area, unwilling to wait until they can find somewhere more private.

shower: for one muse to join the other in the shower.

bath: for one muse to join the other in the bath.

morning after: for our muses to have sleepy, morning sex after spending the night together.

underwear: for one muse to show off their new lingerie to the other.

behind: for one muse to come up behind the other and pull them flush against them.

scratch: for one muse to leave scratch marks on the other mid - sex.

love bite: for one muse to leave marks on the other mid - sex.

edge: for one muse to stop mid - sex, deliberately prolonging the other's orgasm.

hands: for our muses to touch each other intimately under a table.

surface: for one muse to pin the other down on a table / countertop / bed and take them from behind.

choke: for one muse to wrap their hand around the other's neck mid - sex.

baby fever: for one muse to deliberately come inside the other, after agreeing that they want to try for a baby.

soothe: for our muses to comfort each other in the aftermath of having sex together.

clothed: for our muses to have sex while still clothed, simply moving any articles of clothing out of the way from where they need to be.

kiss: for one muse to kiss the other one as they initially slip inside them.

car: for our muses to have sex in the back seat of a car.

comfort: for our muses to hold each other close in the aftermath of finishing together.

♡ the burn isn't the worst he's received, and he's more disappointed he didn't get to take a drag of it before the cigarette stings into him. it pulls a low grunt from deep in his chest, like a kick to the stomach or claws around his throat. husk is certain he never had an ounce of masochism in his bones before, but if hell changes a person, marriage changes you more.

♡ " could'a let me have a hit, " he growls, his arm tightening around the frighteningly narrow waist. the claws even manage to dig into the skin as a fair amount of revenge. but the pain fades away quickly from sharpness to something dull. dull pain he can deal with. it's a part of every moment of his day, and the intensity is almost a welcome change. it's an acceptable price to pay to see the happy, almost coquettish look of delight on the face cuddling into him. like a cat that bites before purring.

when  husk’s  rough  hand  cups  his  jaw,   he  simply  tilts  his  head  back.   keeping  his  back  pressed  snugly  to  husk’s  front,   craning  his  neck  at  a  fluid  angle  to  look  at  his  husband.   eyes  glowing  a  warm,   low  crimson,   the  pupils  blown  wide  enough  to  swallow  the  light.

“well,”   he  murmurs,   tearing  his  face  away  from  the  strong  grasp.   mouth  turning  into  a  pout,   his  tone  remains  condescending⸻   yet  heavy  with  a  dark,   syrupy  affection.   “if  you  wanted  a  taste  so  badly,   darling,   you  only  had  to  ask.”

before  his  husband  can  grumble  a  reply,   he  reaches  up;   long  fingers  tangling  into  the  thick  fur  at  the  back  of  husk’s  neck  to  pull  him  in.   he  presses  his  mouth  to  husk’s  in  a  slow,   deep,   &  thoroughly  bruising  kiss. 

there  is  nothing  delicate  about  it.   he  opens  his  mouth,   inviting  the  intrusion,   taking  husk’s  tongue  with  a  hungry,   wet  heat  that  tastes  of  bitter  tobacco,   smoke,   &  the  faint,   intoxicating  tang  of  old  blood⸻   an  acquired  taste for the average sinner,   for  sure, but husk was no average sinner.   he  pressed  himself  back  against  the  solid  frame,   a  needy,   subtle  roll  of  his  hips  communicating  exactly  what  he  wants  now  that  the  cigarette  is  gone.   yet,   he’s  the  one  pulling  away  first.

“now, don’t  lie  to  me,   i’m  not  dumb⸻   you  just  enjoy  letting  me  get  away  with  things,”   he scoffs,   rolling  his  eyes.   hand  resting  atop  husk’s,   he  lets  their  alliances  touch, quite sheepishly.   “you  have developed  your very own  depraved  cravings, don’t make up excuses for it.”