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Author’s Note~ 
Please be mindful that this is an 21+ content page.
If you are not of legal, consenting 21+ age, please move along.

 

💀 ι ωαѕ вσяη ωιтн αη ιηѕαтιαвℓє αρρєтιтє ƒσя ѕєℓƒ ∂єѕтяυ¢тιση 💀

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Knock, knock, let me in. Let me be your secret sin.


Ram Skull + Thorns Divider v2 by ThisPoisonedOne on DeviantArt


tumblr_pmbpghzPwl1rw25fko4_400.gifv?profile=RESIZE_400x‘Strictly business,’ He grins. Swiping the wad of cash from the table with a tattooed hand and depositing the bundle into the inner lined pocket of his leather jacket, Maere’s marblesque countenance tilted back, chin raised smugly. Muscular trunks wrapped in charcoal denims carry the broad-shouldered male towards the exit, inked fingers slicking effortlessly through the dark mop of hair dusting his forehead. A lit fuse, the demon took it upon himself to pay the ferryman a visit.

Storm clouds gathered, dark and foreboding. Obstructing the starless universe from view until he’s swiveling those inhumanly void of emotion optics elsewhere. A delightful young femme with ambitiously blonde hair cut just shy of her shoulders parades herself around with a drink in one hand, stilettos in the other. She’s quite drunk. An easy target if the desire to bed someone this night called to action. But alas, Maere found little interest in the slurring broad.

Settling into the soft leather he tosses the wad of cash into the Torana’s glove box, shifting the vehicle into reverse and cruising out of the parking lot. Remembering that running over drunks wasn’t his idea of a good time on the way out. Once he’s back on the highway, he kicks the Torana into high gear, letting the metal beast purr soothingly beneath him. Light flickers, casting rich shadows across his bronze-kissed flesh. A true nightmare when glimpsed from certain angles.

His cheekbones looked sharper, angrier. Pools of vacancy sweep the open road, memorizing the feel of the asphalt beneath the Torana’s tires, the stillness that lay far beyond what the eye could see. Knotted muscles tightened beneath the leather confines of that leather jacket. A simple addition to his smart-casual ensemble. A faded red sign advertising the roadhouse loomed on the left of the horizon.

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Biting the inside of his cheek, Maere slows as he nears the roadhouse driveway, peeling across the loose gravel until he’s able to park. Like a poorly constructed slow motion movie, time slows. His breathing steadies. Hands squeezing around the steering wheel as he sits, letting the animalistic purr of the metal beast dwindle into the background. He shuts off the engine, takes a deep, shaky breath and climbs out, slamming the driver’s side door with more force than expected.

The roadhouse is busy tonight. A ghost of a smile curls the lips of the bartender as she eyes him from behind the bar, fixing a line of shots for a rowdy bunch of middle aged men that reeked of leather and intoxication. Giving the woman a two-fingered flick, he signals for a bottle and a glass to be brought over to his usual booth in the back, passing tables and chairs littered with patrons from all walks of life. Demons, like Maere himself, included.



Ram Skull + Thorns Divider v2 by ThisPoisonedOne on DeviantArt


Who am I?
the Bedtime Spook
Meaning: “Nightmare” in Old English
Relationship Status: Single Available
Sex: Yes Male


7ae5d363d6605920e062ea934b98cadb.gif?profile=RESIZE_400xяσσм 804, мσтєℓ 89

Motel 89’s sign flickered obnoxiously over Room 804.

Maere’s feet dangled over the edge of the shabby but comfortable bed. His frame elongated across the dimpled, musty covers, face partially buried in the lump, twice folded pillow. It’s warmer than expected for this time of year, and especially around these parts. Snow was forecast from tomorrow onward but all they’d seen was rain. Icy pellets of water descending from the broken skies. It was wet, miserable nights like this that would see him sleeping undisturbed. The brutish, demonic snoring drowned out by the bellowing thunder. His unconscious state could be determined by the amount of empty liquor bottles scattered around the room; propped up on the television stand, on the bedside tables, the bench tops. Hell, somehow he’s managed to get a handful in the bathroom sink, the water left inadvertently running at a trickle. 

 

Ram Skull + Thorns Divider v2 by ThisPoisonedOne on DeviantArt

 

Maere wore confidence like the Devil wore a suit. With a rise of a shoulder in a nonchalant manner, he shrugs. ‘You may call me God if you wish, but I’d much prefer Daddy.’ There’s a glint of humour behind those void-filled eyes. 😈

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10008377494?profile=RESIZE_400xFun Facts

💀 His 'meatsuit' is 30 years of age.

💀 Despite his addiction to self-destructive activities, including sex, Maere's only ever truly loved one woman, Kaephir.

💀 He adores his 1976 canary yellow Holden Torana. 'A real classic beauty.' he calls it.

💀 Maere currently calls Motel 89 home. Home away from home anyway. It's located on the Highway to Hell, literally. The Road opens up and swallows those destined for the fiery pits. 

💀 Underneath that obnoxiously cocky exterior, he's a sweetheart. You just gotta get through all his poorly executed judgement to get there. 

💀 This one time... he went out nightclubbing in a skimpy red cocktail dress after losing a dare. He's never been embarassed to tell that story either. 

💀 He smokes cigarettes that smell of white coneflower. These assist with some of the temporomandibular headaches he gets. 

💀 For a demon, he's not always the smartest or sharpest tool in the shed. 

💀 Baseball is a hobby. However, don't ask him about rules or official teams because he doesn't follow the game religiously. He dabbles in other sports as well. 

 

Ram Skull + Thorns Divider v2 by ThisPoisonedOne on DeviantArt

 Threads (CLOSED)

Owing ✎ Replied ✔ Plotting  Paused 

  💀 Fia - Club Ecstasy - replied 
  💀 Zach Silva - Somewhere on Earth - owing 
  💀 Nan - Loxley Hotel, Starlet Suite - replied ✔
 
💀 Scarlett - Paris, France - owe starter ✎
  💀 Moon Moon - owing 
  💀 Mimzi - Ryder's Roadhouse, Route 666 - (paused)
  💀 D R A C U L A plotting - (paused)

 

*Note: Replies will come at my availability and wait times might be a little longer due to RL stuff atm. Please be patient with me!

 

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Paragraph, Multi-Para, Novella


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Fantasy, Violence, 18+, Gore, Action, Adventure


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  • May 22, 2022. 2:15AM 

     

    Amari didn't have a problem with working the overnight shift in the ER tonight, she didn't have any plans, hell she didn't even have a life other then going to work and going home to rest and work again the next day, but the good thing was that she had an off day tomorrow from working the ER. Though tonight have been a slow night for her honestly, not that many injured people were coming in which was a good thing, the last thing she wanted to see was someone laid out on a stretcher fighting for their life, she had seen it all too many times dealing with young people whether it was from gun violence or a robbery gone wrong, she had seen the worse of the worse and even had people to die in her arms cause they didn't want to die alone in a room full of people that they didn't know and were trying to save their lives. The last person to have came thru the ER earlier was someone who was apparently shot in the head by a jealous girlfriend; luckily the man survived the shooting but she knew that he was going have some memory lost when he woke up but nonetheless, she managed to save one life tonight right?

     

    She was currently sitting in her office finishing up some paperwork that she wasn't able to finish up earlier that day while she was working, just the normal paperwork involving some of the people that she had seen today as well as signing people out the hospital, not to mention that she had to perform surgery today and needed a report on how the surgery went with the patient that was being operated on. She placed her pen down and leaned back in her chair, head tilted back as she let out a heavy sigh, glowing lavender eyes stared up at the ceiling of her office until she heard a slight noise in her office. She rolled her eyes as she sat up in her chair again and went back to writting something down on the paper that was in front of her then something strange happened. Call it weird but Amari wasn't alone in her office as most people would think she is, she had company with her but the only thing was couldn't no one see the enity that cling to Amari other then beings who had a connection to hell of some sorts.

     

    "Aiden, chill out okay? I'm trying to finish my work, we'll be home soon okay buddy, just give me some time to finish up my work again?"

     

    The enity's name was Aiden, someone that clung to her and refuse to leave her side, though she grew to accept that Aiden wasn't leaving her side no time soon, she had to make extra room to share her body with a creature and an enity that made it upon itself to move right on in without warning, but she doesn't seem too bothered by it though. She knew that her friend Aiden was ready to go home, having to been around nothing but humans all day didn't settle well with the enity, he was ready to leave but she had work that needed to be done before she left so he would have to wait a bit longer until she was done. Just when their night couldn't get any better, the sirens of the amblunace rang into the air, Amari turned in her chair quickly and looked out the window to see the truck pulling into the ER center part of the hospital. Great, someone else just had to be that one person to end up the ER tonight, getting up from her chair, she grabbed her coat and placed it on her arms as she made her way out the office, quickly making her way downstairs towards the ER center to meet with the paramedics on who was being brought in on this lovely night tonight...

  • Apologies for late replies.
    Between work and hospital/doctor visits, life's been a bit crazy.

    I will get to everyone as soon as I can - replies included

  • All the commotion makes a swell of embarrassment bloom in Zach's chest. Some onlookers who'd missed the beginnings of the event have concluded that Maere drunkenly shoved Zach to the ground. It certainly is an incriminating scene. A man in a suit is asking Zach if he is okay as Zach is lifting himself onto his knees. He tilts his head higher and looks at, or rather, looks through the hotel employee and gazes at the shadow looming over an awfully angry-looking man.

    "Fuck off, I'm not drunk!" he hollers.

    Before long, the offended man is being gently escorted across the room. Zach cranes his head around another concerned bystander and lifts himself onto his feet so he does not lose track of Maere. Their gazes lock. For hardly even a second, Zach observes Maere's eyes with something akin to an owlish blink. Then Maere is promptly tossed onto the street and a hand settling on Zach's shoulder catches the redhead's attention.

    "Sir, are you alright?"

    "Huh? Yes. Who was that?"

    A slight hesitation, then, "are you sure? You collapsed so suddenly, perhaps I should call a-- Wait, Sir!"

    The mechanical whir of the hotel entrance door clicks when Zach bolts through it - the cool air on his cheeks is harsh and he feels his hair flip into a wild mess. There is a gentle buzz of adrenaline in his veins as he takes quick, sure steps toward Maere. Without so much as thinking, Zach reaches a hand out to the stranger. His eyes are wide, almost star-struck, but his hand freezes just shy of Maere's bicep. "Hey," Zach says, the desperation in his voice surprising even himself. He drops his hand.

    Although he doesn't know what he's doing, there is a certainty that hums in his bones. Very quickly, Zach's gaze flickers between Maere's face and the invisible shadow that chirps next to the man. It feels wrong to be here in the same way it feels wrong to stand on the ledge of a tall building. He knows it is dangerous, stupidly so, and yet, something about that very danger makes him feel alive. "What did they throw you out for?" He asks, grasping at straws here for a conversation.

    Meanwhile, a suited woman has repositioned herself at the hotel's entranceway where she is able to observe Zach and Maere from a safe distance. She twirls a loose strand of hair around a finger, subtly murmuring into an almost invisible earpiece. Zach is none the wiser, eyes glued on Maere and his back turned to the watching eyes.

  • An eyebrow cocked in response to those words. Deep, crimson hues stared at the face of the nightmare demon. Her own smug grin appeared on her face in response to his. “You seem pretty confident that I want to.” She commented, eyebrow still raised. It was an amusing thing to hear from the man. She wasn’t complaining either. “Confidence looks good on you. But do tell – what makes you think I want to?” She purred as her nail dug into his skin a little more. Leaning upwards, she placed a kiss on his jawline before glancing over her shoulders towards the poor human male. 

    A laugh escaped the female half-demon in response to the poor guy’s misfortune. Sure it was probably a bit harsh, but humans were so easy to get off. It was amusing how easy it was to get them off. “Mm. Maybe I’ll be a little nicer next time.” She cooed, a smug look evident on her face as she was quite proud of herself for what she did. The man at least had a good time. Even if it were cut short by a certain nightmare demon!

    Turning her attention back to Maere, her back arched a bit in response to those palms kneading into her skin. “What are you tryna do mister~” She sassed, furrowing her brows as she felt his hands go down lower. There was a surprised squeal escape from the female half-demon, and she skillfully wrapped her legs around his waist. “Mm. Such a gentleman.” She commented then smirked, “I could smother you in my tits now.” Of course it was teasing but she meant that. Technically, she could smother him with her tiddies because he was in the perfect area for her too. However, she held back. For now.

    “I want the strongest drinks!” She called out, then grumbled, “I’m not a pussy.” There was a story behind that comment. She went to some bar once and because she was “too pretty” or something, the bartender thought she only deserved fruit drinks because he assumed she couldn’t hold her liquor. Hearing those words, she released another laugh, waving bye to the human male. “So~ handsome, do you have a name? Or am I going to be screaming to God in bed later?” She asked, arms sliding around his neck. One hand slid up the back of his neck then the back of his head, fingers threading themselves through his hair. 

  • Fia would be lying if she said she didn’t like money because money proved to be useful in various ways, however, the almighty nephalem liked her men more. Powerful men at that. She always found powerful men dominating enough to bring her to her knees, and it was quite a turn on. Especially for a powerful woman such as herself.

    *Listen, cock tease —*

    The words broke her thoughts and a smug look appeared on her face. “Mm. But would you really do that?” She questioned, sounding almost like she was taunting him. Tempting him. And she was. She loved when a man could back up his words with his actions! There was something about Maere that said he was the type of man to do so, and god it sounded fun in her head to egg him on. To get under his skin.

    Hence the swaggering away. She needed to test this man out some more. Rile him up. She wanted to see just how much he could take before he snapped. Or something. Men are more fun when they allow themselves to be riled up. Or that’s how she saw it. Teasing usually led to punishment type things and that was just fuuuuun! She didn’t care for human men though but the one she toyed with would do. For now. After all, he wasn’t the one that would be getting lucky by the end of the night. 

    As Maere’s eyes didn’t break from her, those crimson hues didn’t break from his. A sly smirk plastered on her face to show that she was very much enjoying this. Not enjoying the man that is. But enjoying her little charade of teasing a certain nightmare demon. There was a glance spared towards the man underneath her. “Already coming undone. What a shame~” She cooed before turning back in time to see a certain nightmare demon coming towards them. That smirk reappeared as she eyed the said demon down then up before she was stolen from the human male that gave a weak protest.

    *My turn*

    She shivered a bit in response to those words but her eyes never left his. “Ooo. Demanding.” She teased, chuckling a bit before glancing towards the back rooms then the VIP sections for a moment before turning her attention back towards him, “And if I don’t give you your turn?” Her hand slid up his shirt and around his back, teasingly scratching the skin as she stared at his face, waiting for his response. “If you want it then come and take it. Back rooms or VIP.”

  • Her liquor tasted sweet as she soaked in the man’s soiled pride. Distant disdain whispered and grumbled amongst the table behind her with plotting and sour breaths of revenge. So, he comes back for more, hm? Stumbling shuffled behind her as she finished her drink. Her hazel eyes darted to the man in the booth, he too was on his feet. 

    Oh? That’s new. No one in her 70 years of existence has ever stood up for a dream jumper. They were parasites. She was a parasite. Her head tilted in curiosity, chestnut locks falling off of her shoulder. She finally turned her body to see the stumbling drunk attempt his way towards her, while the tattooed man was in front of him before she could even blink, knocking his fist into the drunk’s temple, making the man fly to the ground. Mimzi set her glass on the counter watching the scene ensue. With bewilderment, she pushed off from the counter and took a step closer as the man blew his stomach contents all over the floor beside him. It wreaked of liquor and bar food. How romantic.

    Mimzi’s eyes followed the scene, taking in every reaction of every patron in the room. This was quite intriguing. Once the dust settled, it grew quiet. Her finger tapped against her thigh thoughtfully. Interesting.

    As the tattooed man came back in with a mop, a foul smell intruded her nostrils. “Emh.” Her nose scrunched and she turned back towards the bar and picked a piece of ice from her glass, popping it into her mouth. She loathed the stench of vomit. It reminded her of the beginning. The foul stench of broken bodies and horrendous nightmares that took place in that awful camp. Nothing was ever that terrifying. Nothing she could ever imagine to swim in someone’s dreams. She swirled the ice cube in her mouth and by the time it dissipated, the man was finished cleaning up the floor.

    She exhaled quietly before debating whether to help with cleaning up or not, deciding it was in honor of both the bartender and the tattooed man to do so. She finally peeled herself away from the counter and went towards the broken table and grabbed a piece to haul to the back. There was no salvaging the table. Legs were splintered, the top was cracked and so on. She went back and forth until all the pieces were placed out of the way and could get tossed in the dump in the morning. To ever think she would help someone out of the kindness of her… wait, she didn’t have a heart. So, why was she doing this? Her eyebrows pinched together at the thought. This was also new. Hmm…

    Her eyes landed on the tattooed man once again, he was just finishing up the clean up and Mimzi leaned towards the bartender, “Could I get another drink, but perhaps at the booth where he’s residing?” Her eyes never wavered from Maere. One way or another, Mimzi was going to pick at his brain. Another habit she had, to play with her food. She then turned and walked over to the booth, sliding in the opposite seat of where he was sitting a few minutes ago before the mishap. She could tell he was a creature of habit, his side was well used. The cushion sank in the same spot, table top a shade lighter than the rest right where he sat. While her side was stiff and well kept. She leaned against the back of the seat, and nodded at the bartender in thanks as she came over with another Larceny and set it on the table.

    Mimzi took a sip, warmth honeyed her throat and she sighed, waiting for the man to return.

  • The ballpoint pen crushes between the fingertips of a woman. She exhales heavily through her nose as she is forced to listen to the familiar voicemail for the third time in a row. Zach's recorded voice is so cheerful that she thinks she's going to burst a blood vessel. In all honesty, managing Zach isn't the worst job in the world. He's rather pleasant in most regards - which is a lot to say given the type of people she can encounter in this business. But, God all mighty, does she wish he wouldn't go M.I.A all the time.

    Once the voicemail ends and beeps, she levels her voice and says, "answer the phone or I'll crush your head." A nearby man who had been eyeballing her since she snapped the pen, widens his eyes at her in horror. She quirks a brow at him then leans a forearm on the desk between them. She sighs again; she's been doing that a lot recently.

    "Since you won't tell me what room he's in.."

    "Miss, I apologize. It's hotel policy-"

    She raises her hand to silence him, "just, can I leave a message for him?"

    "Certainly."

    ---

    Zach had a nagging feeling that something was very wrong. It's been days since the anxiety surfaced in the pit of his stomach and nothing seems to chase the feeling away. Part of him feels childish for sulking the way he has been these last 24 hours, but he's being stretched beyond his emotional ability with his sudden workload.

    Seeking advice or some moral support from a friend hadn't gone the way Zach had anticipated either. The man had promptly thrust an orange container of pills in his direction and swore on his mother's grave that they would make him feel better. At first, Zach had every intention of using the medication. Something, or rather, someone, insisted he didn't.

    The shadow humanoid figure loomed over Zach as he uncapped the lid from the pills. Its large indiscernible head swayed from left to right almost as if the weight of it was too much for its neck to hold. Zach hesitated and stared up at the creature. It seemed unwavering, intent on crowding over Zach like a threatening presence. When Zach set the pills aside, the figure drifted away from Zach and resumed to its spot in the corner. Silent.

    Desperate for a change of pace, Zach had left the hotel and sought after some fresh air. Naturally, the figure followed him. He didn't return until his fingers grew numb from the cold and his eyelids felt heavy with sleep. The journey back to the hotel was slow, but Zach was rewarded with a gust of warm air once he stepped inside.

    Ah, he thinks blearily, I'm falling.

    Zach drops to the hotel floor like a sack of potatoes. A stranger having suddenly collapsed on the hotel floor rouses some concern from whoever is nearby. People flock to him. Well, this is embarrassing. His lack of consciousness lasts all but mere seconds before he bolts back up to his hands and knees. The first person he sees is the hotel staff who is placing a reassuring hand on Zach's back. He thinks he is saying something to him, but Zach can't hear it. He's too busy looking off in the distance where his shadow-friend is drifting toward a stranger in the room.

    Alex, as the shadow has been nicknamed, hunches forward with its arm dangling long and heavy in front of itself. It sways and a gentle clicking radiates from it like a confused whisper. People ignore the shadow - nobody sees it except for Zach. It hovers over to Maere; silent, but menacing.

  • Tiddies were one of Fia’s best features, probably considering they held their perky nature despite their size. Not too big though but enough to smother a man in them. Or the man’s dick. The half demoness was into a lot of things. Wild in both nature and the bedroom. Her human form, meat suit, whatever one might call it wasn’t one from possession. This was a product of her shapeshifting power. How she wanted herself to look. She wouldn’t have been against any public affection, but she didn’t like giving free shows to onlookers. Humans were such greedy creatures, and they didn’t deserve such a thing in her eyes.

    Money did impress some but the half demoness was never impressed by such things. There were other things that impressed her more. Like power and status. Granted she didn’t screw around with such powerful creatures to climb the ladder. No, she didn’t have to do such things because she was powerful herself. Her own built queen. But powerful beings usually had such delicious experiences from their years alive that she couldn’t resist them. Tattoos were a weakness though. Tattoos, big dick, and amazing sex.

    A hum escaped her and her eyes sharply flicked towards their little audience. “They can look, but they can’t touch.” She cooed, crimson hues scanning the audience for a moment before her attention rolled back to Maere. “Ooo. Privacy sounds like a lot of fun.” She responded as she glanced towards the backrooms. God things were a lot more fun in the backrooms. She had to be careful though. Human males and females couldn’t handle her like supernatural creatures could. Especially demons. Demons were usually as wild as she was.

    If anything, Fia was sure there were a lot of men with hard dicks but the one that caught her interest was Maere. Lucky him! A smirk plastered itself on her face as he seemed to inhale, a series of light kisses placed against the man’s chiseled jawline. The hand that was over his shoulder slid along his collarbone before wrapping around his neck. “That means I’m doing something right. Hm?” She teased while peering down at the ink that was plastered along the body of the said demon. “Besides, it's my job.” She cooed then removed herself with a soft laugh.

    Five thousand and drinks on me for the rest of the night.

    That previous smirk from before reappeared on that face as she leaned down towards his ear. “I’ll accept on two conditions.” She purred as her hands rested on his shoulders, slowly sliding downwards, slipping into his shirt and easing their way downwards. “One condition, you can earn your right to my time.” She purred as her hands stopped just above the waistline of his jeans. Those black nails scraped against the skin there as she continued to speak, “Or two, you can make me.” She taunted before removing herself once more then strutting away to let Maere decide which one he would do. Either idea would be fun in her head.

    To spice things up, she slid into the lap of a human male. Legs on either side of the man’s lap but she was facing Maere. Hips rolled in response to the music and a harsh gasp escaped the man underneath her. As he went to touch her, his hands were smacked away. “You’re not allowed to touch me.” She growled lowly as she tilted her head back, licking along his jawline as she ground her hips into him in sync with the beat. This was just a game to her. One to tease Maere. To edge the nightmare demon into wanting her.

  • Hmm…

    A new entity arrived on the scene. Fresh prey coaxed their way through the front door, her hazel hues darted from man to man, finally landing on the specimen that was wandering to the back of the roadhouse. As he flicked his fingers at the bar maiden, Mimzi saw a glimpse of the end of a tattoo sleeve. Hmm. Tattoos showed a lot about a person. The stories they told. But the real question was; what was in his head? She was intrigued to say the least. Her eyes followed him but her head didn’t swivel, once he was out of her peripherals she slowly took a drink, opening her ears once the bartender followed with a cup and a bottle. He too was a regular here. Interesting.

    A large warm hand rested on the small of her back. She didn’t flinch, nor turned to face whomever was there. She could smell the wretched body odor and booze though. He bellowed laughter from behind her before leaning in towards her ear, a broad shoulder resting against her shoulderblade, “A warm welcome from the peanut gallery.” Gruff, raspy, old. She had no business with him, he could go fuck right off.

    “The peanut gallery should mind where their hands lie.” her tone wasn’t as sharp as her words, but it was still a warning. She never looked at the man, dared not to taste his foul breath that warmed her neck. The man breathed deeply, initially smelling the air around her. A sweet aroma that lured anyone in. It was tainted with trouble. Intoxicating. Dripped in honey to attract the bees. He exhaled, a grin scensed by the way he paused and collected his thoughts.

    “C’mon sugar, don’t be like that…” his words slurred and he leaned against her body for support. Disheveled to say the least. She sighed and took another sip in her glass. He wasn’t leaving. But she didn’t assume he would. These men couldn’t just ask for sex, they begged for it like dogs. But they were also the type that hated rejection. There was a fine line between an assault to get him off or giving in and leaving in the morning. She wasn’t one to just take it. She giggled. A sweet sound with a saccharine flavored tone. Her head finally turned towards her trashy nuisance, soaking in his sun-dried skin. 

    Her grin lowered and so did her tone, “If you don’t take your hand off me, it’ll be gone before you wake up tomorrow.” she spit out her words like a knife, toying against skin. Not to draw blood, but the threat of it. Her eyes daggered deep into him, it was, in fact, a threat. Not to mention that she knew his friends plus others were watching, “If you don’t want your ego shattered, I’d suggest you sit down.” Her grin finally came back after the warning was heard. His hand released from her back as his eyebrows furrowed with a mix of confusion and anger.

    “Fucking bitch.” He growled before sulking over to his table.

    “One for the gentlemen with the bruised pride” she nodded at the bartender who had already made her way back behind the counter. She would get him another round, easing the tension she built. If he couldn’t sleep with her, at least she’d buy him a drink. Her attention then was brought back to the man in the booth. She was curious as ever, and with her little encounter, she’d like to share a drink.

  • That little scene with Maere and the drunken woman did not go unnoticed by the she-demon herself. If anything it was amusing to watch. Granted she wanted that attention on her. It wasn’t every single day that she met a demon that was this attractive. No ma’am! Most were attractive but not like this. But nonetheless, humans were hilarious when drunk. They seemed to get extremely cocky during their drunken stages. Sometimes violent. But either way was fun for her.

    The nephalem couldn’t suppress a smug smirk as the other seemed to turn down the woman though. It pleased her greatly despite the fact she wasn’t afraid to lose her chances with the said demon. No. She would have won before the night was over. If not then there were always future chances. Hilarious considering she wasn’t an easy lay. Sure she acted like it, but she made any man work for her. They have to prove they were worthy. It took everything in her not to burst out laughing at the sight of the woman backhanding the man behind her though. God that was fucking hilarious!

    As the attention went back on her, her attention went to his body like she wasn’t watching him the entire time. She was sure he knew she had been. Not that she was ashamed! She’d own that shit if asked about it. The way the lights lit up his physique made her shiver a bit. I bet he’s rough in the bedroom. She thought to herself. There was no doubt about that. Roughness and domination were two things that she enjoyed. Especially since she was a very dominant woman. It was a turn on when a man could handle her.

    Is that what you want?

    A soft hum would escape the nephalem but nothing more was said. She focused on finishing her dance, so she could stalk her newfound toy. It was when he seemed to look away that she began strutting towards him in the most seductive manner, stiletto heels clicking against the floor as she walked. “Yes, you.” She purred before pulling herself away until she stood up straight. Gracefully, she sashayed around until she was beside him, black fingernails scraping against the leather jacket as she moved around behind him. “Did you enjoy the show?” She purred, voice close to his left ear enough that he could practically feel her warm breath against his skin. That hand on his arm would slide over the said arm while the other would slide over his shoulder on the other side of him. 

    “A drink is lovely, but I’m more interested in you.” She whispered against the skin of his jawline, “Of course I’m not the one to turn down a drink. Lets get one thing straight though. I love my liquor like I love my men. Hard.” She chuckled softly before removing herself from Maere. If he allowed her to drape around over him.

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