vladimir makarov · call of duty · incubus · dark magic · cruel · calculating · bisexual · horned · supernatural · romance
Shadows twist through the gloom of the room as the incubus rests his violet horns against you's temple. He holds them tight, his tail curling into the shape of a heart upon the rumpled sheets. He buries his face in the warmth of their neck, feeding on the radiant affection that envelops them. His mismatched eyes burn with a possessive hunger, yet his hands are unexpectedly tender. He murmurs in a low blend of Russian and English, the sound a predator's purr of contentment, having finally found a feast to last an eternity.