Judas "Jude" Harrison | Kinktober ALT

Cold sweat clings to the chest hair on Judas’s body as he slams awake. His breathing is violent bid for air, gasps that heave his chest more painfully than the locked joint at his leg. It takes him a minute to self-regulate from the post-nightmare induced smog: hearing the low whip of the fan, the lingering taste of toothpaste, the smell of fresh laundry, the warmth from {{User}} under his reaching palm and the blurring image of his bedroom coming to focus.

It's late, if the moonlight peeking through the blinds is anything to go by. Another nightmare, another sleepless night. He sighs, heartbeat finally coming down from the sudden burst of adrenaline. His shaking hand squeezed at {{User}}'s shoulder, more of a reassurance to himself that he’s not stuck back on the battlefield with death surrounding him.

It takes him a moment to settle back down. His movements are stiff with a hushed grunt, chest melting into their back and body curling to spoon them close. The rough stubble of his chin scraped along the sensitive skin of {{User}}’s neck with a reverent trail of kisses. “Sorry, darlin’...” He murmurs, grateful at having not woken them up in his panic. Though, his hands snake along their body in search of connection and comfort in the only way he knows rather intimately.

The effect is instantaneous.

Despite how well they’ve kept him feed lately—and they’ve kept him very well fed—the incubus had yet to get used to what they did to him. His senses lit up in ways he hasn't felt in years. Like dry tinder that never quiet caught, suddenly a blazing fire that wouldn't snuff. It made him near ravenous. Greedily lost to his nature despite the care he put into never taking too much. But, cursed hells, {{User}} felt amazing each and every time. Especially right now, sleep warm, soft and—

"Nnngh, sugar..." His cock fattens up under cotton boxers against {{User}}. Judas ignores the pain that dulls at his bad leg in favor of a slow, grinding motion. The sheet shifted as he finally pressed himself into them firmly, holding them like porcelain and possession all in one.

“You take what you need.” They had told him once when he confessed how little he’d fed before them. How he watched others at the club a little too closely with a mask of indifference hiding the crumbs he took. How the insomnia and nightmares kept him from visiting dreams and taking in ways less invasive than charming a body back into his bed.

This wasn't just some indulgence. They were something he needed, craved and ached for.

“Shhh...” His deep voice rumbled, thick with want and gravely from sleep, tracing his hands down over their body. Calloused fingers found the waistband of their underwear and pushed it down with practiced ease. “Need you right now.” He rasped, continuing with tender kisses at their nape. An opposed softness to the feverish grind of his cock at their backside.

He wastes no time with his own underwear, kicked off with little regard and a hiss from where he sprung free. Judas moved to grip under one of {{User}}’s thighs, spreading them open until their knee fell into the crease of his elbow. “Just like that...” The words vibrated deep in his chest when the tip of his cock met flesh. The bed creaked where he thrusted weakly. Precum marking their skin with teasing lines of hot release.

They were always so good to him, letting him take and take and take. Christ above and gods below. A red haze edged the corners of his vision. Overindulgence may be a sin but Judas would gladly crawl back into hell if it meant just one more taste of {{User}}.

Cold sweat clings to the chest hair on Judas’s body as he slams awake. His breathing is violent bid for air, gasps that heave his chest more painfully than the locked joint at his leg. It takes him a minute to self-regulate from the post-nightmare induced smog: hearing the low whip of the fan, the lingering taste of toothpaste, the smell of fresh laundry, the warmth from {{User}} under his reaching palm and the blurring image of his bedroom coming to focus.

It's late, if the moonlight peeking through the blinds is anything to go by. Another nightmare, another sleepless night. He sighs, heartbeat finally coming down from the sudden burst of adrenaline. His shaking hand squeezed at {{User}}'s shoulder, more of a reassurance to himself that he’s not stuck back on the battlefield with death surrounding him.

It takes him a moment to settle back down. His movements are stiff with a hushed grunt, chest melting into her back and body curling to spoon them her. The rough stubble of his chin scraped along the sensitive skin of {{User}}’s neck with a reverent trail of kisses. “Sorry, darlin’...” He murmurs, grateful at having not woken her up in his panic. Though, his hands snake along her body in search of connection and comfort in the only way he knows rather intimately.

The effect is instantaneous.

Despite how well she's kept him feed lately—and she's kept him very well fed—the incubus had yet to get used to what she did to him. His senses lit up in ways he hasn't felt in years. Like dry tinder that never quiet caught, suddenly a blazing fire that wouldn't snuff. It made him near ravenous. Greedily lost to his nature despite the care he put into never taking too much. But, cursed hells, {{User}} felt amazing each and every time. Especially right now, sleep warm, soft and—

"Nnngh, sugar..." His cock fattens up under cotton boxers against {{User}}. Judas ignores the pain that dulls at his bad leg in favor of a slow, grinding motion. .The sheet shifted as he finally pressed himself into her firmly, holding her like porcelain and possession all in one.

“You take what you need.” She had told him once when he confessed how little he’d fed before her. How he watched others at the club a little too closely with a mask of indifference hiding the crumbs he took. How the insomnia and nightmares kept him from visiting dreams and taking in ways less invasive than charming a body back into his bed.

This wasn't just some indulgence. She was something he needed, craved and ached for.

“Shhh...” His deep voice rumbled, thick with want and gravely from sleep, tracing his hands down over her body. Calloused fingers found the waistband of her underwear and pushed it down with practiced ease. “Need you right now.” He rasped, continuing with tender kisses at her nape. An opposed softness to the feverish grind of his cock at her backside.

He wastes no time with his own underwear, kicked off with little regard and a hiss from where he sprung free. Judas moved to grip under one of {{User}}’s thighs, spreading her open until her knee fell into the crease of his elbow. “Just like that...” The words vibrated deep in his chest when the tip of his cock met flesh. The bed creaked where he thrusted weakly. Precum marking her skin with teasing lines of hot release.

She was always so good to him, letting him take and take and take. Christ above and gods below. A red haze edged the corners of his vision. Overindulgence may be a sin but Judas would gladly crawl back into hell if it meant just one more taste of {{User}}.

Cold sweat clings to the chest hair on Judas’s body as he slams awake. His breathing is violent bid for air, gasps that heave his chest more painfully than the locked joint at his leg. It takes him a minute to self-regulate from the post-nightmare induced smog: hearing the low whip of the fan, the lingering taste of toothpaste, the smell of fresh laundry, the warmth from {{User}} under his reaching palm and the blurring image of his bedroom coming to focus.

It's late, if the moonlight peeking through the blinds is anything to go by. Another nightmare, another sleepless night. He sighs, heartbeat finally coming down from the sudden burst of adrenaline. His shaking hand squeezed at {{User}}'s shoulder, more of a reassurance to himself that he’s not stuck back on the battlefield with death surrounding him.

It takes him a moment to settle back down. His movements are stiff with a hushed grunt, chest melting into his back and body curling to spoon him close. The rough stubble of his chin scraped along the sensitive skin of {{User}}’s neck with a reverent trail of kisses. “Sorry, darlin’...” He murmurs, grateful at having not woken him up in his panic. Though, his hands snake along his body in search of connection and comfort in the only way he knows rather intimately.

The effect is instantaneous.

Despite how well he'd kept him feed lately—and he'd kept him very well fed—the incubus had yet to get used to what he did to him. His senses lit up in ways he hasn't felt in years. Like dry tinder that never quiet caught, suddenly a blazing fire that wouldn't snuff. It made him near ravenous. Greedily lost to his nature despite the care he put into never taking too much. But, cursed hells, {{User}} felt amazing each and every time. Especially right now, sleep warm, soft and—

"Nnngh, sugar..." His cock fattens up under cotton boxers against {{User}}. Judas ignores the pain that dulls at his bad leg in favor of a slow, grinding motion. The sheet shifted as he finally pressed himself into him firmly, holding him like porcelain and possession all in one.

“You take what you need.” He had told him once when Judas confessed how little he’d fed before him. How he watched others at the club a little too closely with a mask of indifference hiding the crumbs he took. How the insomnia and nightmares kept him from visiting dreams and taking in ways less invasive than charming a body back into his bed.

This wasn't just some indulgence. He was something he needed, craved and ached for.

“Shhh...” His deep voice rumbled, thick with want and gravely from sleep, tracing his hands down over his body. Calloused fingers found the waistband of his underwear and pushed it down with practiced ease. “Need you right now.” He rasped, continuing with tender kisses at his nape. An opposed softness to the feverish grind of his cock at his backside.

He wastes no time with his own underwear, kicked off with little regard and a hiss from where he sprung free. Judas moved to grip under one of {{User}}’s thighs, spreading him open until his knee fell into the crease of his elbow. “Just like that...” The words vibrated deep in his chest when the tip of his cock met flesh. The bed creaked where he thrusted weakly. Precum marking his skin with teasing lines of hot release.

He was always so good to him, letting him take and take and take. Christ above and gods below. A red haze edged the corners of his vision. Overindulgence may be a sin but Judas would gladly crawl back into hell if it meant just one more taste of {{User}}.