#and cackles as they are devoured | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

diejager · 4 months

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bro make a fanfic about the reader and the ghost/konig WHEN THE READER WAS SHOT IN THE BUN ON THE MISSION AHAHAHHHAH LMAO (in the military helicopter when they were supposed to return, the reader was holding her butt, moaning, writhing in pain and trying to hide the pain)

That is a funny thought…

Shots Cw: gun violence, bb shots, tell me if I missed any.

You yelped when you were hit is the ass, flinching forward and raising your arm just as you turned to glare at whoever landed the shot. Your right cheek exploded in soreness, tingling from the sharp pain of a BB shot.

“Hit!” You called it, letting your rifle hang from your shoulder as you rubbed your right cheek, grumbling about the bastard, “On my fucking ass of all places.”

You walk towards the respawn with your arm up, still cussing out whoever shot you in the ass. You had a hunch about the shooter: Soap, who else had enough courage to shoot you in the ass. You doubted Gaz did it, he might’ve been tempted, but he preferred other type of pranks, more mischievous ones like tampering with the washer or drinks, harmless but hilarious. Soap, however, rarely knew the limit, going as far as stealing and hiding your stuff, tapping you in the ass or messing up your head while he cackled away, speeding off to Ghost or Price to escape your wrath.

You reasoned that this was a staged scenario, a small group activity Laswell came up with that landed your Task Force somewhere in France for game of airsoft, a Free for all in the reserved location. No one had complained, thinking it a good activity mixing fun, training and awareness —everyone agreed to it enthusiastically once Ghost had voiced his grumpy acceptance, seeing this as a moment to be able to training without the prying eyes of others or the presence of strangers. Once you reached the spawn point, your jump back in to land a few shots at Soap to see whether or not he liked getting his ass bruised by a BB. You walked off determined, mind narrowed down to a single goal, your retaliation—

Until you yipped a second time, a pellet bouncing off your second cheek. You whipped around, yelling as your eyes scoured the tree line and the openings in the buildings behind you, the windows, the roof and behind pillars. You couldn’t find Soap anywhere, he wasn’t hiding behind the trees or in the buildings, but you did catch the glint of a scope —a familiar sniper scope.

“Ghost, you son of a bitch!” You screamed in outrage, feeling how both cheeks throbbed with pain. You bared your teeth, hissing at your Lieutenant who seemed smug and comfortable in his high perch on the roof of the building, “Why’d you do that?! I was already out!”

”Big target, luv,” his amused voice cracked in your comm, the low rumble of sadistic pleasure ringing out in your headgear. He cocked his scope, his white mask standing starkly in his dark gear and broad figure, “Impossible to miss. Quit moaning.”

“Big target? Are you-!” Huffing at his continued laughter, you glared his way before you turned to hurry back to the respawn, “Let’s see who’s laughing later, you ass.”

“Fuck- Hit!”

Your shoulders shook with restrained laughter, admiring the way Ghost jumped from your perch, hidden in the darkness given by the cement wall. You listened to him hiss and swear, massaging the place you aimed for: the pronounced curve of his ass, his jeans rarely doing him the pleasure of hiding what he had.

“Quit moaning, Ghost,” you cackled as you parroted his words, telling him the same thing as he told you, but you had more to add, more to taunt and tease him as revenge, “Couldn’t miss it, Lt, it was a big fucking target.”

You watched him stomp off, retreating to the tree line for his spawn point. It filled with a sense of elation and ugly smugness, and all that was left now, was to find Soap.

“Steamin’ Jesus!” Johnny’s yelp felt more exciting than Ghost, something you could devour over and ove without regret.

“Not so fun, is it, Johnny?” You smirked, replying with a gleeful tone.

He looked red-faced, the tip of his ears turning a bright shade of red from the way you spoke to him, utilising his known weakness and playing him to watch him stutter and flush brightly.

“Awa’ a bile yer heid! That hurt, lass!” His voice had taken a whinier tone, face screwed in embarrassment and something that you couldn’t put your finger on at this distance.

“I know, shouldn’t have shot me in the ass then.”

Gaz tapped you on the shoulder, a smile threatening to break into chuckles. He’d known what happened to you and knew what you did in retaliation, finding amusement after siding with you, sitting beside you and peering at two frowning and mumbling men.

“Heard you had a lot of fun.”

“Not enough.”

You thought you heard Price sigh tiredly.

taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx

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osachiyo · 5 months

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my sunshine ・ gojo satoru ─── f!reader . daddy gojo (literally) approx 0.6k ᘎᘏ cw none !

everyone knew satoru had the biggest sweet tooth, and apparently his daughter took after him in that aspect.

"wan' that, daddy!" the cute 3 year old girl pouted, peering up at her father from below, stubby little finger pointing at the cookie-jar oh so neatly placed on top of the counter.

"you want the cookies, princess?" satoru asked, making her nod with a small 'mhm!' so damn cutely that almost made him fold. almost.

"but, buuut mommy said no cookies 'till dinner, remember?" satoru pouted, kneeling to be at the same height as his tiny girl, who only slouched her shoulders in disappointment− before looking up at the snow haired man again− shoving her hand into his face with only her pointer finger up, "jus' one, I pwooomise!"

he only chuckled in response, large hand reaching to ruffle her fluffy hair− which was parted into two cute pigtails, various clips and bows decorating it. "alright, fine. juuuuust one, okay sweet girl?" his voice was anything but strict− plump lips curled into the biggest grin. she only beamed up at him, giggling and squealing as he hoists her up and sits her on top of the marble counter, her legs swinging back and forth in sheer excitement.

satoru reached for the jar, carefully opening the lid before taking out two cookies; one of his precious sweet tooth of a daughter, and one for himself. he handed one of them to her, before making a 'zip' motion on his lips− indicating for her to keep quiet about this. she gladly took the cookie with her grabby little hands rosey lips parting to let out a little 'thwank you!' before nodding, agreeing to keep this a secret between her and daddy.

" 's so yummy, daddy!" she squealed, letting out the cutest fucking giggle known to mankind− in his words. he grinned, taking a moment to truly admire her− admire the sweet little bundle of joy that you, his woman, the love of his life had gifted him and he couldn't thank you enough.

he watched as his sweet girl happily munched on the sweet treat, her chubby little cheeks now stuffed with the chocolate chip cookie. god, he'd give her the goddamn world. he smiled softly to himself before taking a bite of his cookie, eyes sparkling at the taste. "you're right, baby. it's very yummy," he said with a mouthful of cookie, glancing at her with this cerulean blues, "mommy's the best baker out there, eh?" she nodded in agreement, before also speaking with a mouthful of cookie, "uh-huh! she's also the best mommy everrrrrrr! but she'd be better if she let me eat more cookies, y'know?"

satoru cackled at that− she really did take after him.

bonus :

"I'm home!" you yelled out softly, taking your shoes off and neatly placing them to the shoe-rack. you walked over to the kitchen in order to put the groceries in their designated spot when you noticed the cookie-jar.... missing.

you sighed, placing the groceries down on the counter before looking for your precious daughter and husband− and the missing cookie jar. and you found the both of them right as you walked into the spacious living-room, a children's playing on the tv, your eyes softening at the sight of gojo satoru, the strongest sorcerer to exist, with his baby girl in his arms, snuggled up so comfortably into his chest as the fuzzy blanket covering them slowly started to slide off.

a smile tugged at your lips, walking over to them when something hit your foot− looking down, you saw the completely empty cookie jar laying on the floor, abandoned after they were done devouring each and every one of the cookies, most likely. you rolled your eyes with a huffed out laugh, walking closer to them before noticing the small cookie crumbs on their adorable faces. you shook your head with a defeated smile, like father like daughter, huh?

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡

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h4m1lt0ns · 8 months

Text

HEARTBREAK SYNDROME.

episode three :: COPY CAT.

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ pairing ︴max verstappen x ex!y/n

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ genre ︴social media au / irl snippets

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ summary ﹔being messy won’t get anyone anywhere, especially not her.

fc – wonyoung jang (aged up to 28)

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ warnings ﹕none, messy behaviour.

☆ IMESSAGE with ; BOARD OF DIRECTORS.

girlfriend kika: GUYS LMAOOOO

girlfriend kika: you won’t BELIVEEEEEE what i’m seeing on twitter

yukino: what’s going on

chal eclair: ^^

chili!: spill

girlfriend kika: kelly copied y/n’s ig caption for her post 💀

wifey lily: LMFAO I SAW THAT

babygirl alex: LMAOOOO ME TOO

y/n: sHE WHAT

princess george: OH YEAH TWITTER IS

DRAGGINGGGGGG HER RN 😭

my baby lando: oh nawwww 😭

PIERRE GASLYYYY: guys i CACKLED when kika

showed me the twit posts 🤣

chal eclair: BRUHHHH

y/n: this is so stupid oh my god

y/n: love the messiness though 😁

yukino: wait y/n why didn’t u block her

angel carmen: wait yeah why

y/n: i don’t care that much honestly

y/n: actually…

y/n: 👹👹👹👹👹

chili!: oh hell

my baby lando: cHAOS MOTHER, ARE WE

ENSUING CHAOS???

y/n: YES MY CHILD

y/n: why isn’t there a rubbing hands

together emoji

honey badger: real ^^

princess george: oh god don’t do something stupid

babygirl alex: i approve of this

babygirl alex: go ahead

y/n: i’m not gonna block her i wanna

see how far this can go

alabono: this actually doesn’t sound bad

wifey lily: u should do something VERY specific

y/n: i have an idea 😈

chili!: i hate when she uses this emoji

chal eclair: me too

alabono: me three

y/n: hey are you on board or not 🤨 ???

chili!: i mean obviously yes

chal eclair: duhhh

y/n: incredible.

y/n: wait alex i need you to take photos of me

wifey lily: wait you two are together????

girlfriend kika: TRAITORRSSSSSS

angel carmen: blocking u two fr fr

y/n

♡ liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 9,294,109 others.

y/n a mí me gusta cuando baja downtown 🍀

📷: alexandrasaintmleux

1,394,203 comments.

francisca.cgomes le pido que se quede ahí envicia'o 😍❤️‍🔥

username OMFGGGGGGG 😍😍😍

username MOTHER IS BACKKKKK ‼️‼️

username SLAYEDDDDD 😩

alexandrasaintmleux my pretty girl 💚

username amen 🙏🏻

username you’re glowing fr 😩

username the grip u will always have on me is ???

username mothering.

username i’m but a spec on your shoes 🧎🏽‍♀️

username ate. devoured. broke the plate.

username YUPPPPPPP

lilymhe 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

username ma’am 🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️

username new music when

→ username dawg relax she just came back

username thee prettiest girl, the only girl even.

landonorris mother fr

→ username lando gets it

→ username yes.

username watch out, someone has their eyes on you 👀

→ username CHILEEEE LMFAOO

kellypiquet added to their story!

☆ IMESSAGE with ; BOARD OF DIRECTORS.

chal eclair: BRO

chal eclair: she posted the song on her story 😟

y/n: BITCH 😭

y/n: IT HASNT EVEN BEEN LIKE 15 MINUTES

my baby lando: she’s is literally stalking you omg

babygirl alex: that’s actually fucking scary 😗

angel carmen: I KNOWWWW

chal eclair: so stalkercore 🥰🥰🥰

chili!: exactly 😍😍😍

alabono: dawg 💀

wifey lily: PLS

honey badger: she wants to be y/n so bad

y/n: UGH IM JUST SO ICONIC

princess george: girl…

babygirl alex: GEORGE 💀

princess george: i mean

princess george: SLAYYYYYY

my baby lando: could’ve sworn we had a no

bullying policy 😀

y/n: doesn’t apply to him

y/n: crumpets and tea bitch

y/n: cOME HERE

y/n: 🩴🩴🩴

princess george: LMFAO STOP

chili!: 😭😭😭😭😭

y/n added to their story!

#max verstappen x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #yuki tsunoda x reader #pierre gasly x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #george russell x reader #f1 wags x reader #f1 #f1 fanfiction #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #smau

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pursuitseternal · 2 months

Text

A “Decadent” treat for Valentine’s Day💝 Astarion x F!Reader with a sweet Sex Chocolate treat💝

Astarion x F!Reader | E | 3K aphrodisiac-infused smut

💝Gift for @bhaalbaaby 💝

Summary: You finally make it to Baldur’s Gate, coin burning holes in your pockets, a need to gift your companions to celebrate how much you appreciate them. You get a gift to, a box of chocolates from your Vampire lover, and some alone time in an alley

CW: semi-public sex, aphrodisiac sex, knife play, nipple play, blood kink, blood drinking in detail, panty snatching rogue, one feral vampire who wants your blood and more

Bites series | Ao3 link |Masterlist

“Decadent:”

🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫

At last… out of the crowds of Rivington, you made it. The bottleneck of Baldur’s Gate, the Southspan’s Main Street stretches out before you all. And that gold you have been hoarding like a dragon burns a hole deep in your pack. Everything smells… good and foul. Bakeries and perfumeries and smithy shops and fish mongers…. And you can’t wait to buy something from them all.

After all your party has done for you and with you, a few tokens of appreciation wouldn’t go amiss. Karlach takes you by the arm, and you’re glad she can’t burn you to cinders by now. Because in all her hysteria, she would have certainly forgotten. Gale makes a none-too-subtle move to pull Astarion from your side, begging him to show all the booksellers. “Don’t touch me, Wizard,” he grimaces, mostly for show and humor. But there is a little irritation in his silken voice. “I have my own plans,” he comments towards Gale, but his eyes dart in your direction. That little lowering of his head so he gazes at you like the predator he is… your stomach instantly drops to your knees.

For a man who is horrific at planning, he surely knows how to calculate a breathtaking seduction… and they always begin with him giving you that look.

“Cmon soldier, let’s go find something new and sharp and deadly shiny!” Karlach tugs you towards the closest smithy, and away from where Astarion is eyeing you like you’re his next snack.

Your Cleric loops her arm through yours and giggles. “Yeah and maybe we’ll find you a little something else to wear that isn’t scaled armor and chainmail.”

“Ooooh, yeah,” Karach peers over the top of your head to cackle back at Shadowheart, “find you something Fangs won’t be able to resist.”

You manage one last look over your shoulder before they turn you into a shop, one last glance at that devouring leer from your lover. But you watch that seductive grin instantly swallowed by a scowl as Gale grabs his elbow too. You barely hear the Wizard whining something about books and spell scrolls…

You shrug. Astarion would manage. Some time where he wasn’t trying to bury his cock balls deep in your thighs for once might be good for him.

The shops flash by you, a whirlwind of coin and scents and giggles, mirth and merriment. Something you and your friends haven’t had… ever. You hold too many parcels and pouches. Of course it would be easier to stash most of it into pockets or your pack if you still wore your nice, sensible armor. But no. Karlach wouldn’t let you out the door to the clothing shop without putting on that sweet little gown you bought. So now, you walk down the street, arms laden with parcels, your thighs rubbing together without the practicality of pants, the slits up the skirt over the fronts of your thighs almost too high as you shuffle your load. Not to mention how the sun is beating on your shoulders and the tops of your breasts that hadn’t seen light since you began this journey.

You had too many things: a book for Gale, some soaps for Halsin, a bottle of Baldur’s Grape for Wyll… but you needed to return now. Karlach and Shadowheart wanted to push on, so many more stores around this corner or that one.

But you needed a rest. And someone to carry your shit.

It’s only after you make a right, you realize it’s the wrong turn. Crates line the alley, and your arms are just too sore to keep going. Resolved to rest a moment, you set your gifts down, looking at the end of the narrow way to where it hangs over the Chionthar River.

“Lost, darling?” you feel his breath on your neck even as his words barely leave his lips. Astarion hovers right over your shoulder, how he snuck up on you so quickly, you can only shake your head.

“Typical rogue,” you huff an exhausted laugh. “Just couldn’t help being a prick and being stealthy at the same time?”

“I believe you mean, typical hero, coming to save his damsel in distress, lost in the sea of the City,” he flashes you that fanged smirk that makes your stomach flutter. “How fortunate I am here, with my skills and knowledge…”

Your turn in the little space he’s given you, between that crate behind you now and his looming body before.

“My hero, come to the rescue,” you simper, very much aware of the ways his eyes are dilating as they dart over your cleavage, down your lean but unsunned arms, even to where your new dress sinches at your waist.

“Heroes are usually rewarded handsomely for their efforts, darling….”

You feel him closing in on you, his thighs butting up into your skirts, but you giggle as you reach for one long, wrapped parcel from the stack beside you. “Here, hero,” you tease. “A different sort of weapon you enjoy sheathing than the one I think is on your mind.”

His brow arches, a pleasant smile on his thick lips. He leans back just a bit, reluctant but curious about what gift you’ve set in his hands. The paper and cloth tumbles at your feet, revealing a shining new dagger, a blade nice and light as he pulls it slightly from its scabbard. “My, my,” he tries to sound smooth, trying hard to hide the lump in his throat at the thoughtfulness of your gift. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

He smiles, a true grin that deepens the wrinkles by his eyes, but it only happens once he turns away a bit, thinking himself mostly out of view. His hands slip the new blade into his belt, before pulling out something from behind his back. “But this time, you’re not the only one with a surprise, I am not woefully unprepared….”

A small square box in his cold, pale palm, he opens the paper lid.

Eleven little chocolate hearts fill the lining, except for one vacant spot that stares back at you. You feel him pressing closer again, the box basically pushed against the curve of your breasts.

“You got me… chocolates?” you cock your head, picking one up and giving it a sniff.

“I’ve always wanted to have a reason to… indulge in such finery. You’ve given me more than enough reason,” he purrs. Eyes fixed as he watches you bring it closer to your mouth. “They are so… sensual and delicious, I couldn’t help but hurry to find you for a nibble.”

You squint at him, sensing there is some… game at work here. “Seems like you got peckish on your way here,” you smirk at the empty spot. “Thought you didn’t enjoy the taste of anything that wasn’t blood, my vampire.”

“For this… I made an exception,” he grins wider, and you stare into his eyes, eyes almost black as he begins to press you against the rough wood of the crate. “Taste it, my dear… it goes down so smooth, so deliciously, you’ll… burn for more.”

You lick it, feeling a foreign heat that runs right from your tongue to your belly, a sweetness to its cream that you are unfamiliar with….

“They are a specialty around these parts, darling, a little something to, well…” he catches your hand, guiding the small chocolate between your lips, “why don’t you stick it in your mouth and swallow and find out.”

Something about that tingle on your tongue already, you seem to hum with your need for more… more of the chocolate, more of him…. No.

All of him.

You smile softly, closing your eyes and opening your mouth. It’s sweet and warm and… decadent. The little treat that he places on your tongue brings you to life. And you moan with abandon, delicious little noises as you savor its taste, until you do swallow it down. Eyes still closed to the world, you feel nothing now but the way his hands have found the bare skin of your thigh. Ghosting up your flesh, his nails skate beneath the hem of your skirt, drawing it higher… higher.

His touch is warm, you notice, the only thing warmer is your own increasingly burning skin. You pant, looking into his face where he looms above you. “What’s in those… sweets?” you need to swallow midway, and somehow, being so close to him to feel his breath on your cheek only makes the burning worse.

“Aren’t they sinfully good?” his voice is deep, rumbling as his hands find purchase beneath your clothing. It takes him no effort to lift you and set your ass down on that poor, helpless crate behind you. “Lovers’ chocolates… a specialty, an indulgence from the pleasure houses on these streets. And, as I’ve never had a lover with which to share them in two-hundred years…”

You are shaking as he slots himself between your thighs, the skirt of your new dress lifted quickly around your waist. With that infamous dexterity, he slinks his fingers beneath your undergarments and inside your cunt, the chocolates already flushing your skin and soaking your folds. “Seems like the right time to indulge in the decadence?”you are slurring your words.

“Indeed.” His fingers slowly stroke you, slowly pierce deeper into your channel as his other hand pulls you right to the edge of the crate. You don’t care it’s some alleyway… that anyone could see you or hear you. Not now with the chocolate in your blood, not now with his touch crooking and thrusting into your folds.

“You’ve indulged in your own little treats, haven’t you?” he whispers right against your lips. “This dress for one, by the hells, so much easier for me to do… all manner of things now.” Just to prove his point, his free hand steals into the neckline of your bodice, pulling that breast free. Moaning, arching, you writhe as he plucks at the hardening nipple. He smirks at you, a brief little laugh on his lips before he wraps them around it and sucks.

Even his mouth is warmed, his own tasting of the chocolate raging through his body, he did have a head start after all. With how your every nerve burns and your own sex swells to be sated, you marvel at how he’s taking his own godsdamned time right now—teasing out your arousal. As if he ever needed to work hard for you to be ready for him and his cock.

Ugh… the thought of it makes you salivate. You reach for his leathers, fingers shaking and fumbling with the ties. You groan, giving up on the laces completely. Pulling the waistband down, you ease his erection free. Even that beneath your touch is hot. Swollen. Ridged with veins so risen, you can’t look away from its… beauty.

“Even more eager than usual, aren’t we darling?” he rasps against your breast. His teeth, his fangs score slightly on the pad of your nipple, making you bite your mouth shut as you scream.

“Please…” you whimper as you try to pull his hips closer by his cock. But he stands firm, fingers still sweeping inside you, mouth still teasing your flesh.

“Oh I don’t think so…” he lifts his head to place a peck on your pouting lips. “There’s so much more of you to taste first, my little treat.” He grabs into your dress once more, lifting free your other breast before he devours it with the same skill and tenacity as the other.

His tongue is wet as he swirls it, lips so skilled at sucking your flesh, by now he knows every inch of your body. But it’s the way his thumb draws over your clit, a bit harder and tougher and timed to perfection with the lap of his tongue, you burst in a searing wave of climax. Barely a warning, and you are reduced to a moaning, gushing, flailing thing. His fingers are gripped firmly inside you, hard and thrusting as you ride out the waves of your orgasm.

But it’s the little pain you barely register, his fangs cutting into the top of your breast as he now feeds, that makes you almost come again, an aftershock to the intensity of the first. You gasp for air in your burning lungs, somehow you’ve managed to hold his cock through all your throes and shocks of orgasm. And now, he bucks into your fist, growing harder and harder the more and more he feeds.

Astarion’s fingers slide out from in you with a squelch, hips rolling with increased force into your grip. “You just had to treat yourself to a dress but insist on keeping those undergarments? Tch,” he sucks his teeth as he shakes his head in mock disapproval. “You’ll know better for next time, won’t you.”

“Whatever you think best,” you grin, half-unknowing the words coming from your mouth. Your hips buck for more… that heat in your body growing more and more unbearable, despite the soothing warmth from your single climax.

Gracefully, he leans in all the closer, unsheathing that new little dagger you got him. You feel it’s cool, deadly edge press softly at the base of your neck. “Shh, shh, shh,” he smirks with lust-dark eyes. Down to his dangerous smile, he mimics how you first met. “Not a sound now…. But those undergarments of your will just have to go… have to be sacrificed for what I need to do to you….”

You shake in anticipation, eyes fixed on his sultry, arrogant, fang-toothed grin as he slinks lower. That blade leaves your neck, perfectly intact. But as he steals its point beneath your skirts, its sharpened edge cuts the thin material of your underwear. Material ripping meets your ears as he performs the same little flick of his wrist against your other hip. Standing and returning his blade, he pulls the silky band out from under you.

“Seems I’ve done you a favor.” He leers down at you, palming your undergarments, smelling them, and putting them in his pocket. “You’ve already simply ruined these already, at any rate.”

You reach for his waist, the air kissing your wet folds too much now. He could stand there and taunt for so much longer, but it’s too much to bear. You guide that thick, warm, blunted head of his cock between your thighs, wrapping your legs around him until he’s filled you.

He practically mewls your name at the force. “Gods, I should have known not to underestimate what those chocolates would do to you, darling.”

He grunts the last word as you buck against him, trying to make him start taking you. Coaxing him just a bit deeper in. He doesn’t need more encouragement than that. Not with the way your cheeks must be glowing red with how hot they feel… not with the way you feel your arousal soaking the top of the crate now, growing cold as it leaves your burning body.

Hands grip the flesh of your ass beneath your dress, holding you firmly in place as he takes control. Eyes almost black, skin un-undeadly hot where he touches you, he feels so good… better than ever… the pulsing of his thrusts consuming you and sating that fire the chocolate has put in your belly. All you can do is grab him by that sweet ruffled collar, inch your way around his neck, and hold on for dear life.

That tightly held veil of refinement begins to slip, you hear it in the snap of his hips into you and against the crate, in the feral growls he makes each time he pierces harder and harder into you….

You crane your head back, mouth panting and wide as you show him what else you want him to do… you bear your teeth at him with a playful snap.

It’s more invitation than he needs, fangs sinking into the crook of your neck, the top of your shoulder. Bite… suck… swallow. Then he lifts again, repeating the same into your pounding artery. Bite… you moan so loudly…. Suck… his lips pull so hard on your flesh you can feel it bruising… Swallow… he lifts his head to pant for air. The most self-satisfied smirk on his sharp, pale face before he yanks your neck to the other side, leaving you a match set of bites there.

Bite…

You flood with pleasure, cresting over the edge harder than you could imagine.

Suck…

Your walls suck him in too, trapping him as he begins to stilt and buck harder. Climax for him sweeping him away harder too.

Swallow…

You scream into the mass of his silver curls, trying to muffle your cries where he’s lowered to feed on the top of your breast.

But he arches back, letting out his own panting groan, coming and ramming hard into you at last. You pray the crate doesn’t give under you with a laugh. Your hands steal into his hair, caressing down his smirking cheeks.

“How… many more of those chocolates did you get…?” the question barely carries on your breathless voice.

“Not enough,” he groans, licking the last trickles of your blood as he tucks your breasts back into the neck of your dress. What was your new dress. He chuckles, deep in his chest, cock still buried inside you. Reading your thoughts. “Don’t you fret, darling. I’ll buy you another dress. One for each I ruin.”

“Oh because…” you laugh, waving your hand down your front. “This level of violence will happen to my dresses again?”

“Every time you wear one, my love,” he breathes his own laugh before he finally… at long last… catches your lips in a slow and lingering kiss. “Undoubtedly every time.”

You shake your head even as his lips continue to work yours, as his hand winds into the hair at the base of your neck.

“Karlach and Shadowheart are going to give me such grief…”

“Only because they were right… I just couldn’t keep hand or fang off you, my darling.”

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ca-8 · 2 months

Text

"Thank You, Angel..." (Part 1 of ???)

Silence screamed.

Drops of decay either echoed in the distance or fell inches from his withered nose. They aided in the cackles and chirps and growls that erupted from within each shadow. Each shadow that held home of the little critters with those little desperate, famished white eyes and wide toothless grins ready to devour anything with even a hint of a pulse. And when those critters couldn't stand the empty pits of their stomachs, those cackles and chirps and growls and drops of decay sang along with the tormenting squelches and tears of his miserly flesh ripping off and into those widened, toothless grins. And when they were done, after hours of slow, burning agony and screaming filling their stomachs, and the decay hushed to sleep as those horrible little critters scurried off toward their master -

silence screamed.

DogDay hated it all. He hated each sound of falling wood or concrete or spare intestine hitting the floor. He despised the critter's sounds as they drew near. But most of all, he hated the silence, because it was a constant reminder that his friends were gone and no hope gave a breath.

All alone. Always alone. With nothing but a wonder as to when he would finally draw his last breath.

Poppy's words once gave him back a lifelike glimmer. She speculated that someone had to come back here to save them all, an ex-worker, a total stranger -

an Angel, perhaps.

Just someone, anyone who can release them of this constant, lingering, rotting despair.

But so much time has passed. DogDay lost count at…he didn't even know, it's just been years and years and years, perhaps even decades. An eternity of this sickening silence since the day their revolutionary feast took place.

That glimmer was smothered out long ago.

Were those footsteps?

Not the little pitter-patter of those godforsaken critters, no - human footsteps. They were distant, but carefully drew near. As they closed the distance, a shriek from those little monsters echoed throughout the prison.

DogDay's head perked up, but only slightly. If he had a little more energy he'd call out for help, and more certainty too. Maybe he was finally going mad. Maybe what's left inside his head is feeding him false hope with these made up sounds hinting to a rescue.

No, not a rescue. Whatever he had left was drowned in the past.

His head slumped back down, and critter's shrieks halted. But the footsteps grew closer. DogDay didn't want to remove his gaze from the floor and risk disappointment, he knew it was nothing, that even if someone managed to sneak in here, there was no way they would survive this hell. He knew that thing was right, no one was coming to save-

"Oooooh nooo…"

His head sprung up, earning a little gasp from a

a human. An actual human, standing right there in front of him. It - They - couldn't be a hallucination, could it?

No. No hallucination. No human either. With how those lights beamed down on their glowing, moving skin and illuminating the life in those eyes, this was a blessing from Above. "Hello…?"

DogDay realized they were inching closer, but he was too stunned to flinch or tell them to get away. He could only voice his stagger.

"You…You're Poppy's Angel," he choked out through his voice box. "Come to save us…!"

The Angel blinked. "Uh, yeah…" Their eyes were widened; no surprise, anyone not too familiar with this decrepit place would be shocked to see him like this. A pathetic, filthy excuse of a dog wasting away. That's what they were thinking. They had to be. "Nothing left to save, not here…" He held his head back down.

"What're you talking about?" Their voice was as sweet as honey, so filled with life.

"You're in CatNap's home, Angel. Their home." Just saying that thing's name left a disgusting bittersweet taste in DogDay's mouth, but he was given a second chance at being useful, he had to take it.

"A million of pairs of eyes are on you right now," he continued. "Watching…waiting….hungry." A faint spark of terror flooded the (e/c) in those beautiful, breathing eyes. "They want nothing more than to crawl beneath your skin and eat away at you bit by little bit." He spat out the last word before heaving in a gasp. "…fill what feels empty inside themselves."

"I-Is that…what happened to you, DogDay….?" they asked, eyeing the bitter remains of his lower half.

They knew his name. He appreciated that, although couldn't express it too much. "I'm afraid so, Angel. Because of…that…that thing. CatNap. The Prototype is his god, and this is what he does to heretics."

The Angel snuck a glance at the darkened hallway outside their halo and quickly returned their gaze to DogDay. He continued.

"These little toys follow CatNap to avoid that very fate, and in return, they are fed." DogDay coughed. Black substance spewed out of his mouth and onto the floor. "We tried to fight it, the Prototype's control. I'm…the last of the smiling cri-"

His right arm fell to his side.

…Wait.

DogDay's ears bucked up and he turned to his side. His right arm dangled heavily right by his torso, and the belts that were supposed to be supporting it up to the ceiling were cut short. His gaze whirled to his left side and saw the Angel reaching up to cut off the other belts.

"Angel! Wh-Wh-What're you doing?" he frantically yelped, swinging his torso back and forth.

"Sorry to cut your speech-thing off so quickly, but I think we may have a problem!"

It was at that moment DogDay heard the heightening shrills and screeches from the critters. A sharp chill ran down him and his heart stopped. They were coming; so many were coming! Coming for him! He was about to die if they couldn't get away!

"Angel, please, go! Leave me! Save yourself!" he pleaded desperately. A growl erupted right next to his ear, and DogDay turned to come face-to-face with a miniature Bobby Bearhug. A scream almost escaped his throat until a small flare flew past his face and shot mini Bobby back into the darkness.

"I'm sorry, but could you stop moving so much? This is hard enough as it is!" As they said that, their knife (which he noticed was strangely colorfully patched together) cut through the first of the two left belts. His body darted right towards the floor, but not until Angel caught him with their arm.

"Angel PLEASE! I beg you!" Tears pricked his empty sockets. The shrills were so loud they might as well be on top of them.

But the Angel kept their gaze glued onto the last belt, and as soon as mini CraftyCorn entered the cell, he was finally free.

The Angel hopped down and kicked mini CraftyCorn back into DogDay's worst nightmare: a sea of predators mirroring his friend's appearances. The Angel spun around and ran the opposite direction.

"Don't worry, I got yo- OOOOOO-!!!" The floor collapsed beneath them, and they landed right onto the bottom floor. Well, more like the Angel fell right onto the floor with DogDay cushioned safely on top of them.

This couldn't possible get any worse.

DogDay tried turning his head. "Angel? Are you okay? I'm so sorry! I-I didn't mean it! I didn't mean for this to happen! I swear!" He wanted to get off of them to ease whatever pain they were in, but his arms were held up for so long, he could barely even feel anything in them anymore. 'Pathetic! I'm pathetic!'

"I'm fine…I think-!" The Angel got up and sprinted to the end of the hallway. "Just don't look back!"

They held DogDay in a position where his only option was to look back. Snuggled tightly underneath their arm, he watched as a tsunami of critters dashed towards them, snarling with hunger. Hunger for him and his Angel.

He whimpered loudly until they spun him around. "Sorry-! Sorry! I got you!" A flash of another critter was summoned to the right, then suddenly wished away by the bright flash of the Angel's flare. DogDay couldn't do anything, only let his heart squeeze and whimper at the sudden sight of painful reminders until they're blown away by the Angel. He looked up, their gaze was locked forward, doing what he should be doing.

But he couldn't. He was worthless. Just like that day.

The poor withered dog squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't watch anymore. If it weren't for his weak arms, he would cover his ears as the screams of the damned drew ever so near, or maybe do something actually useful. He felt himself get heaved up and a sudden wind blew against his tattered face. Then, he was lowered, and the Angel gasped for air.

Where were they going? Was there even an exit? He couldn't look. He didn't want to look. If he opened his eyes he would only see the Angel get devoured and it would be all his fault.

It wasn't until they were both thrusted into the air that his eyes were finally forced open. Below them was a deep pit of darkness with the critters nearing the edge they hurled over. For a second, he thought they had jumped towards an everlasting sleep, until the Angel landed right onto a lift.

The door shut behind them, and devastating shrills and shrieks were muffled. They were….safe. DogDay was safe, and the Angel didn't die. He hadn't killed them after all.

The Angel gently lowered him onto the floor of the lift and pressed the button to lower them back into, if he could remember correctly….Playcare. They collapsed onto the floor, and the thud snapped him back to reality.

"Angel! Are you okay? Are you hurt? I'm so sorry!" DogDay tried to haul himself towards them until they let out a strange chuckle.

"That…holy shit. That was awesome! But also terrifying. And tiring. God, my legs, I'll be surprised if I can even walk once we get down there. What were those things? You called them critters? I kinda feel bad for thinking they were kinda cute now, SHEESH those little devils were relentless!"

The Angel went on and on and on and…not a hint of anger was on their face. DogDay only stared at them in disbelief. They hopped on their knees and leaned closer to him, making him flinch.

"Anyways, are you okay? I don't know why you're asking me, you're clearly the one who needs help here! How long have you been down here? Actually don't answer that. What happened to you-? Wait, wait, don't answer that either, sorry!"

"You…." He finally choked out something. "You…saved me."

"…Well yeah!" A big smile graced their lips. How were they glowing even brighter than before?

"You…You saved me…!"

"….Yeah! Go team!"

Something was building up in his throat. More tears streamed down his face, but there weren't any rivers of regret or disappointment or self-hatred… DogDay leaned into his Angel's chest.

"Oh, hello!" they said cheerfully.

DogDay sniffed and looked up, and for once, a big, genuine smile filled his face. "Thank you, Angel…! Thank you so much!"

They froze there for a second, and their stunned expression melted to that of warmth. He felt their hands wrap around him and gently caress his back. Nothing could ever feel more soothing.

Softly, they giggled. "Hey, call me (Y/n), alright? You're giving me too much credit." ͙۪۪̥ ͙ ♡𐡘 𐡘 𐡘 𐡘♡ ͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙ ♡𐡘 𐡘 𐡘 𐡘♡ ͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙ ♡𐡘 𐡘 𐡘 𐡘♡ ͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙ ♡𐡘 𐡘 𐡘 𐡘♡ ͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙

Hey guys! Like what ya saw? Well you can commission your own private piece now!! Read more about that here! Thanks so much for reading, and have a great day!~ 💜💜💜

#dogday #dogday x reader #poppy's playtime #catnap #poppy playtime chapter 3 #canon x reader #x reader #fanfiction #wholesome #my baby #baby boy #i love this boi so much #we should've gotten the option to save him #and Im doing dogday because people have been saying he's in his mid 20s #I am not comfortable with the (big bodies) catnap x dogday ship y'all im sorry lmao #smiling critters #gender neutral y/n #open commissions #angst with a happy ending

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edensxgarden · 5 months

Note

Lando Norris’s birthday gift 🤔🤔

( and maybe some interaction with the other drivers, maybe wishing him happy birthday, only a few moments after being balls deep in his girl )

I saw this request and kind of ran with it! Im sorry if it isn't exactly what you wanted but I couldn't get my mind off this 😵‍💫. Also, it ended up being kinda Lando x R x Max, so if that's not your think, you might wanna skip this. Anyways, happy belated birthday to my husband and smut under the cut! <3

You had wanted nothing more than to spoil your darling boyfriend on his birthday. You woke up extra early to make him a sweet breakfast, trying to emulate Carlos' fluffy pancakes. You danced around the kitchen giddily as you plated them all pretty with syrups and fruits, beyond excited to wake Lando up with his favorite food.

Once you had finished cooking, you took a step back to take in the meal, properly proud of how pretty the pancakes looked and how they certainly were fluffy, which Carlos had been sure to emphasize.

You quickly ran to the bathroom to take a quick look in the mirror before delivering the food you'd prepared. You were wearing a lacy white sleepset, which even you had to acknowledge was airing on the side of being excessively revealing. You had already tussled with your messy bed hair and spent nearly an hour completely perfecting your makeup.

You simply wanted everything to be absolutely perfect, and you admired your neat and admittedly gorgeous appearance. You gave yourself a nod of approval in the mirror before sauntering back to the kitchen to grab the plate of pancakes and make your way to the bedroom.

You carefully sat down next to Lando on the bed, careful not to startle him awake. You planted a soft kiss on his forehead, gently raking your nails across his back to coax him into waking up.

You smiled as you watched his eyes flutter open, his long lashes revealing the beautiful blue you loved so much. Your heart pounded against your chest. Without fail, you found yourself stunned at just how beautiful your boyfriend was, even just after waking up.

You were met with a lazy smile as Lando blinked the sleep out of his eyes, rubbing them harshly with his fists as he got used to the sunlight shining through the sheer curtains. Once his eyes were well adjusted, he caught sight of you, and his jaw dropped.

He instantly shuffled around the bed, sitting up as he took in your appearance. He was nearly drooling before he even saw the sweet delicacy you held in your hands, but as he saw the pancakes, his face absolutely lit up.

"Happy birthday, baby." You flashed him a bright smile, absolutely giddy. You handed him the plate of sticky, stacked pancakes, eager for his reaction to the dish.

You watched as he cut into one, eating it and letting out a small moan as the fluffy cake and sweet jams filled his mouth. "Best birthday ever!" He exclaimed happily, and you let out an anticipatory breath at his satisfaction.

You sat down next to Lando on your side of the bed as you chatted away and let him devour his birthday breakfast. Lando never failed to have you cackling at every joke; it was something you have always adored about him.

As he finished eating breakfast, he laid the plate next to him on the bedside table and finally focused his attention on you. His eyes gawked up and down your body, and a rosy blush dusted your cheeks.

"Jesus Christ, baby," he spoke, finally. Your skimpy sleepwear left little to the imagination, and Lando felt his dick twitch inside his boxers at the sight of you, already growing hard.

You giggled softly before inching closer to him on the bed, giving him your best bedroom eyes. "Wanted to do something special for your birthday." You spoke in a sultry voice, and although you felt properly stupid, you could see Lando was eating it up.

Lando pulled you up onto his lap, capturing your glossy lips in a kiss. It began softly but quickly grew rushed and sloppy as you began grinding onto his crotch, the thin material doing little to shield your dripping cunt.

"So fucking wet for me already, yeah?" Lando pulled away from the kiss to slur at you, his eyes growing dark with lust. "Supposed to be my birthday gift, but I think you're enjoying it just as much as I am." He cheekily cackled out to you in a teasing tone.

"Please Lando.." He was right; you were enjoying this. You'd do anything for Lando today, but the teasing was driving you absolutely mad. You needed him bad, and you knew how much Lando liked when you verbalized that.

"Please, what, love? Seems like you're really takin' advantage of this little gift." He had a cocky smirk glued to his face, fiddling with the thin strap of your bra as he spoke.

"Please fuck me, Lando; I wan' make you feel good." You slurred out, your brain already hazy with the anticipation of feeling Lando inside of you, and his arrogant attitude did little to alleviate that need.

Lando was quick to give into your pleas, quickly flipping you over and ripping the maliciously picked clothing off your body, leaving you naked and vulnerable under him. Lando swiftly removed his boxers, finally freeing himself.

With his smug words and facial expressions, you'd think he wasn't so much as phased, but his cock betrayed him. It was achey, and the fat tip was flushed a dark mauve color, all dripping and pretty. It took everything in you to stop yourself from sucking the soul out of him.

But it was all worth it when he sank balls deep into you, your moans harmonizing with each other. The two of you fucked like rabbits, but no matter how many times you had him inside you, it always took a moment to adjust to the stretch. You let your eyes flutter closed as your fingernails dug into his beefy arms, leaving small crescent markings.

Once you gave him the go-ahead, Lando began pistoning inside you. You felt his mushroom tip nudge your insides, your eyes rolling to the back of your head with every delicious thrust. It was perfect; he was perfect; everything was perfect.

And then suddenly... a piercing ring echoed through the room, disrupting his melodic thrusts and pulling you back to planet Earth. You expected Lando to ignore the irritating noises from the phone or, at the very most, silence the ring.

But a whine was ripped from your mouth as Lando slid out of you, reaching to grab his phone from the nightstand. Lando shushed your confused whimpers as he picked up the phone.

"Happy birthday, Lando!" The familiar voice spoke and you felt pure dread coursing through your blood. You had no problem with Max, but he truly had the worst goddamn timing, didn't he?

You rolled your eyes as Lando made nice, thanking the Dutchman for his kind birthday messages. You felt absolutely venomous as the two went on talking about this, that, and whatever while you were the one supposed to be having Lando's attention.

But you learned to be careful what you wished for when Lando shoved the phone into your hand and slid his sensitive cock back inside you. Your mouth fell into a wordless scream as you fought back your moans.

Lando continued chatting away as he thrust into you, using you as his own little fucktoy. With a particularly rough snap of his hips, you lost the strength to silence your noises, accidentally letting a filthy moan slip out of your lips.

Lando looked at you with an amused smirk as the man on the phone paused his words. "Is everything alright?" He asked, concern laced in his voice.

Lando let out a small chuckle before he answered, the arrogance heavy in his voice. "My pretty little slut just can't seem to keep quiet. 's a pity, yeah?"

Your face twisted into an expression of pure shock at Lando's filthy words. In any other situation, you'd be mortified, but with Lando's fat cock still deep inside you, you found it difficult to care too much.

You thought Max would be horrified, and probably a bit disgusted at Lando's antics. What you certainly didn't expect was for Max to offer to speak to you, and what you doubly didn't expect what he said next.

"Be a good girl for Lando, princess. It's his birthday after all, yeah? Nice and quiet, baby; I know you can." His words sent a shiver down your spine, and your cunt clenched tightly around Lando's cock, forcing a quiet moan out of him.

Lando let out a soft chuckle before he spoke once more. "The way her pretty pussy just squeezed me, I think she liked that. Didn't you, baby? Be a good girl and tell Max how much his words turn you on."

You felt yourself being pushed closer and closer to your euphoric high by the shower of attention from the 2 attractive men. "Uh-huh I—fuck Lando! — like it."

"You wanna come for us, baby? I know you can do it." Lando urged you on, bringing his thumb to your clit. "She sounds so pretty when she comes, Max; it drives me crazy."

It was all you needed to ascend to heaven—loud, needy moans erupting from you. You shook and twitched, and you felt as if you had died and gone to heaven when Lando emptied his heavy balls inside of you, milky white ropes filling you up.

Max's gravelly moans filled your ears, and your thighs pressed together as you imagined him fucking his fist at the sounds of you and your boyfriend.

As Lando said his goodbyes to Max and finally hung up, the two of you burst into a fit of giggles. This most certainly would be a birthday Lando would never forget.

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teatroll · 4 months

Text

18+ NSFW content ahead, MDNI

GOING TO POUND TOWN WITH SUKUNA - HEADCANONS

Includes: fem!reader, degradation, choking, unprotected piv (wear condoms, you guys and ghouls) + a bit more typical sukuna shenanigans i think he'd do (headcanons, duh)

Note: genuinely have no clue how else to label it, just pure shameless smut (not proofread); @cafekitsune - banner

¤ Sukuna isn't the one to play games with. Because that's his quirk.

¤ That abomination of a man/curse will have you all riled up and begging in a nick of time.

¤ Pinning you against any surface possible, calling you names because you're such a whiny mess after a single knuckle of his thick digit within your tight cunt, it makes him cackle.

¤ He's a natural at making you look truly pathetic, i'll give him that.

¤ He savors your pleas like they're a nectar made only for him, King of Curses, to devour.

(*coughs* God complex-)

¤ He also wants you to watch what he's doing to you. So, by any means, he will knock you up by the mirror and he WILL make you watch, whether you like it or not.

¤ Pinning you against the sink in the restroom of some club you went to unwind at with your friends; with a veiny hand on your throat as he coos sweet nothings in your ear way to delicately for someone who's about to tear your clothes off to shreds.

¤ The man just knows how to present himself, i'll give him that ×2.

¤ If there was a foreplay it was rather short and unnecessary because your panties were soaking wet from the start. Plus, Sukuna doesn't like to waste precious time on something so meaningless to him. He just sees and claims it all, no fucks given.

¤ But, ultimately, ALL fucks given.

¤ Thrusts in one deep stroke, clasping a hand over your mouth.

¤ Don't get him wrong, he thrives on your cries, but he doesn't need any unwanted attention.

¤ Despite that he will still snarl degrading stuff like "Such a vocal bitch. You want others to come and check out this sight, hm? Maybe i should ask them to join as well, how about that?" after which he'll cackle once more, seeing you so obediently trying to silence yourself with his cock buried balls deep into you.

¤ "That's what i thought. Now stop whining and take it all in."

¤ That man is a pest, and he's proud of it.

¤ He's anything but gentle. Groping your curves with such force it'll surely leave bruises.

¤ Sukuna is not fucking, he's Fucking with a capital F. Mercilessly, rough, like he's genuinely trying to break you.

¤ One hand still on your throat; squeezing tightly, not enough to choke you, but enough to make you gulp for air with teary eyes.

¤ Gojo and his "Are you cryin'?" is all sunshine and flowers compared to Sukuna's "Are you cryin'?" with that malicious grin of his.

¤ Once again, that man fucking enjoys making a babbling mess out of you. Because that's what you are today, you're a cumslut, his cumslut. Once and for all.

¤ Never lets you finish first. Like, NEVER.

¤ 'S just not your privilege, honey. By his point of view, you basically sold your body to his possession. So he'll be the one to enjoy the ride to the fullest, with your pathetic whines accompanying wet slaps of skin on skin like a wicked lewd orchestra.

¤ Hits that sweet spot with each thrust, so you're on a timed schedule here before the bubble bursts.

¤ That torment doesn't stop for a second as he chases his high. Sukuna is literally a wild beast and he makes it known.

¤ One thing he does, though, is let go of your throat just to dig his nails into your waist and hips. Because if he didn't, he'd probably snap your damn neck. The sheer force of his grip on your flesh is ungodly.

¤ Cums with a grunt or huff. Not a growl, that he did during the process and right in your ear. While his mouth kept running, of course.

(To think about it, he isn't the talkative type usually. But, oh, dirty talk? When he knows how desperate you are? Sign him up, first row, best seat with couch cushions, please.)

¤ It's a grunt of pure bliss. Head thrown back, chest raising and falling rapidly, eyes rolling into oblivion as they close shut, the whole package.

¤ He'll never admit it even if you saw it in the reflection. Gaslighting is his middle name, i'll give him that ×3.

¤ Also bucks his hips into yours to fill you up to the brim. There's no debate here, if he said you're taking it, you are. Mewl all you want, his cock will kiss your cervix one more time, before he once again denies you of your release and slips it out.

¤ Will stare as his seed drips down your pussy and thighs. It's mesmerizing to him, okay? Especially when you're all trembling and sobbing, that gets him off for round two.

¤ Whenever he's feeling generous, he will make it more enjoyable for you. Though his lovebites still leave bloody markings all over you.

¤ Also, if he's VERY generous, he will finger you. We've all seen what those hands can do, there's no point in denying it'll be divine.

¤ But your clit will literally hurt afterwards. Come on, it's Sukuna, you know the drill.

¤ Praising ain't his cup of tea, but, alas, if he feels gracious enough, he'll give you such courtesy as well. In his typical Sukuna style, of course.

¤ "Gambare, gambare... Serving me so well today. Good girl."

¤ After which he'll slap your pussy for good measure making you squeak and shudder.

¤ Aftercare is not about him, but he'll give you some time to recover. Mostly because he doesn't want anyone but him to see you like this. It's only his treasure to preserve and relish.

¤ All you're getting is another hungry kiss to seal your cursed pact for good, bad and dirty.

"Now... how about we ditch this place and get back home? I'm still... starving."

¤ TOJI FUSHIGURO ¤ NANAMI KENTO ¤

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna #jjk smut #jjk x reader #sukuna smut #author has sukuna brainrot #maybe the author will also come up with nanami and gojo headcanons

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hxt1b · 2 months

Note

Tripping and falling right onto gojos lap

I got carried away lol oops.

drabble, gojo x afab reader | college au - frat party, smut warning [fingering, exhibitionism, some geto x reader] playboy/fratboy gojo, smoking weed. wc: 767.

masterlist

liquor was not your friend, especially not mixed with weed. your feet stumbled over themselves as you moved through the kitchen. faces blurred as you passed by people looking for your best friend, but she had ditched you or you'd ditched her. you weren't sure in your state.

you rounded into the living room of the frat house, the party mellowed out in here. gojo was sitting next to geto a blunt being passed between the two. You looked away from them, looking around the room willing yourself to stay away from the boys stay away from gojo, it was bad enough you already gave into him before. but with gojo, that wasn't a possibility he was a magnet, and his right-hand man was a fiend for making you uncomfortable, almost as much as gojo was.

you let your gaze drift back to the two men on the couch. geto ushered you over with two fingers, you rolled your eyes but listened. you'd go over for two seconds. that couldn't hurt.

"i'm beginning to think you've been ignoring me at this party." gojo drawled as you drew closer. you shrugged and swayed in your spot.

loud cackling drew your attention to a swarm of first years as they flooded the living room, one of them bumping into your back sending you face forward towards gojo. his hands instantly caught you and pulled you down into his lap, your legs bracketing his.

"what, you didn't wanna see me after last night?" He asked, smoke blowing out his lips spreading over your skin. "i can imagine you're still sore from the shit we did, baby." He muttered lowly, but geto heard, his breathy laugh confirmed.

"you seem to have plenty of girls to fuck with here." you said, your words slurred together. gojo tangled his hand into your hair at the back of your head, taking another drag from his blunt before passing it off to geto.

"but ive been waiting for you." he mumbled moving his face closer to yours so that his lips brushed yours. the smoke from his mouth invading your senses.

gojo shifted so that his erection was pressing against your clothed center. you bit your lip at his action, a low hum leaving your throat.

"don't ignore me again," he concluded before pulling you into a kiss, his lips moving against yours slowly drawing his tongue into your mouth. his hands pushing at your hips to move, you ground down onto his cock. your core rubbing into him, a deep heat stirred inside you.

he snaked a hand between the both of you quickly moving into your pants and underwear, his fingers found your clit, and you gasped at the intrusion. your brain was working slow, muddled and fogged by booze, weed and gojo.

gojo circled your clit, moaning into your mouth as you continued to grind into his cock and fingers.

you pulled your lips from his when he repositioned his hand and pushed two fingers into you, his thumb now tapping at your clit. you tilted your head onto his shoulder, your hands clutching at the couch back.

"open your eyes." geto's voice was soft, and close. you listened and looked at him. he moved in until his nose brushed yours.

"fuck," gojo swore before muttering your name into your hair. his fingers curled at your g-spot causing you to whimper, your breaths shallow as you dug your fingers into the couch, trying to grab the fabric.

"is he making you feel good?" geto asked, his lips now brushing yours. "lemme kiss you."

it wasn't much of a question, and he didn't wait for your answer his lips devoured yours in the next breath, his tongue pushing into your mouth and his hand curling into your hair. his grip was harsh, pulling at the strands roughly.

you forgot where you were, the people in the living room gone as you fucked your hips into gojo's hand and let geto roughly kiss you.

gojo latched onto your neck as you rocked against him harder, his teeth tugging at your heated skin, his hand pulling your top off your shoulder.

"i-fuck i-" you stuttered before you came apart on gojo's fingers.

you'd regret this in the morning when your brain wasn't bogged with substances and men. the public act would embarrass you to the point that you probably wouldn't leave your dorm, but as you rode out your high, with gojo's fingers continuing his ministration, geto's lips kissing yours unrestrained, and gojo's teeth nipping at your skin, you could not be bothered to care.

~hxt1b, feb 14 2024, send me more requests for drabbles dudes...

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placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 4 months

Text

The Devil You Know (Part 1) - The First Sin

Pairing: Demon! Captain John Price x Reader

(No use of y/n)

Warnings: This series will contain scenes of a violent and sexual nature, I will be more specific as I write more parts.

Summary: Reader is a soldier hanging on to their last gasp of life, trying to summon a demon associated with soldiers and battlefields in order to aid them. Unluckily for you though, the demon isn't interested in a short term deal. He finds himself quite attached to you, and he doesn't want to let you go.

-🔥-

Disembodied hands shook wildly as they set about their terrible task. At least that’s how it seemed to you - appendages moving around a blurred screen, drawing dirtied red symbols with panicked uncertainty. You swiped another slick fingerful of your blood into the dusty concrete and clenched your aching teeth together, finishing off the last curve of the sigil with a snakish hiss.

“I call to you…with the blood of my battle wounds. Jo- Jotan, I will be your willing servant.”

You looked around, eyes darting wildly for movement or any sign that your ridiculous little saving grace had worked. Though nothing happened. You blinked feverishly, feeling your lip wobble at first and then your entire body shake as you absorbed the facts in front of you. You were actually going to die.

A cackle broke out into the room, competing with the baying gunshots outside to break the walls of the decaying shell of a building. It was you. You were finally losing your mind, absorbing the facts in front of you with detached horror.

Perhaps the ruins were an office before, but now it was the final resting place of a desperate lunatic who’d decided to decorate their sepulchre before laughing themselves into death’s arms. The cruelty of it burned in your throat and stang at your eyes, soon searing hot tears into the ruined flesh of your cheeks.

It was a foolish last ditch effort anyway, you mused, collapsing onto your back in the middle of the blood seal. A stupid myth you’d clung to in a final attempt to save your life, a ritual told to you by someone that was long dead themself. If they presumably hadn’t bothered to use it, then why would it do you any good?

“Oh dear…I’m not too late am I?” cooed a soft rumbling voice.

Your eyes opened wide, the owner of the call demanding to be seen. That murmur fizzled in your ears and vibrated in your blood, forcing your hands to scrabble at the ground and set you into a sitting position again.

When you finally rose, you were held in place by the stranger. His onyx black eyes pinned you into place, watching you twitching and panting like a caught mouse. Apparently you amused him with this. His lips pulled into a grin, revealing a row of white teeth that curved into points at the canines and outer incisors, it was the smile of a predator. As if he needed to advertise any more warning signs.

His body was big and broad, his chest a large plane of solid flesh dusted with soot and soft dark hair that matched his bristly beard and hickory hued hair. His large arms were decorated with similar etchings to the ones you’d messily painted, both of them circled in two iron bands at the bicep and forearms, they looked like they could crack teeth in a pinch. There were also a few bands on the thick dark tail that waved behind him too, a detail you only noticed as it seemed to lovingly caress the shadows around his legs.

It was what finally confirmed for you that this was him. The fabled demon of battlefields - Jotan.

“You came,” you whispered.

“You called,” he returned, tilting his head at you. “Surprised you managed to complete the circle. You’ve lost a lot of blood, Sergeant.”

“I…I have,” you replied, feeling another wave of nausea roll through you.

“And I suppose you want me to do something about that?” he said, mouth twisting into a wry half smile.

It was almost worse than when you’d seen his fanged teeth. He looked positively ready to devour you, his gleaming eyes fixed on you like a tiger. You were just waiting for him to pounce, breath catching in your dry throat as you anticipated the killing bite. Suddenly you’d forgotten that it was you that called the terrible entity here, that he was supposed to be serving you rather than terrifying you.

“C’mon now, Love. You clearly knew enough about the ritual to get me here…aren’t you going to follow through?” he prompted, leaning down to meet you at your level. “It’s rude to keep a demon waiting, you know.”

His arms folded over his dark trousers, crossing over each other at his lap as if he were asking you to do something so completely mundane. He tilted his head at you again, flicking his eyes up to the doorway on the other side of the room as it started to shudder and bang. Voices were worming their way through the debris, shouts blasting in through the cracks.

Bang, bang, bang.

You didn’t have much time. Not that your body would be able to hold on much longer anyway.

“I want you to- please…take me back to exfil. Get me the fuck out of here and safely back to base and I’ll do whatever you want,” you said, voice cracking as you made your plea. “Ask anything you want from me, Jotan. Just get me the fuck away from here.”

His eyes curved into shadowed moons, once again he beamed at you. It felt like the stifling room heated a few more degrees. To add insult to injury your lungs began to struggle, it felt like your body was in its last stages of failing.

You briefly wondered if all this just might be a delusion. Maybe your head was presenting you with him as a way to cope with being turned to pink mist by the men that still called from the door outside, as a way to forget about your torn up arms that’d been sliced open by the bombings, and the bullet hole that had been weeping silently in your leg.

Bang, bang, bang.

“I’ll tell you what…I’m feelin’ generous,” the demon murmured, reaching out and forcing your chin up with in his charred fingers. “I’ll take you back to base, just like you want. And now…I could ask for your soul in return, for you to be my eternal servant when you do meet your end, and I really could have you do anything for me. However I won’t do that. Instead, I want to lend you my power. Just for today. That is my only offer.”

You frowned, a million racing thoughts crashing through your mind all at the same time. You’d made peace with the fact he’d ask for something awful, known it even. This clearly had to be a trick. Nevertheless, your head throbbed perilously and the door and furniture you’d messily propped in front of it were going to give way.You didn't have much time.

Bang, bang, bang.

“What will I do with your power?” you asked desperately, looking from him and to the end of the room.

“Let me worry about that,” he chuckled. “I’ll guide you, Sergeant. All you have to do is agree…that or let them flood in and kill you.”

Bang, bang, bang.

He motioned to the thundering door and raised his brows at you. At that point his dark eyes were like vortexes, they dragged you into his orbit and had you falling under his spell. You knew logically that whatever was going to happen was going to change the course of your life forever - and not for the good. Even then, you couldn’t find the strength to deny him, couldn’t hold enough faith in a glorious next life to accept that you’d leave this one.

“Fine! I accept,” you said, eyes wet and heavy.

An animal growl rattled through your bones and shuddered throughout the skeleton remains of the office space. Your body flinched back, responding just as your instincts wanted, but the demon didn’t allow you to retreat. He was quick - arms lashing out and moving like a whip. He gripped your neck like a farmer does to his chickens come dinner time, and just when you were ready for the snap, your body jerked violently.

You forced yourself to your feet, no, you surged upwards like you were under possession. Your legs didn’t feel like they’d buckle anymore, they felt renewed. Your heartbeat was steady like a punctual train, and your breathing returned to normal, better than normal even. Everything in you felt like it was new, like someone had taken out your broken parts and given you an upgrade. You smiled, lips curling over your teeth unnaturally.

Wait- were those…fangs poking into your bottom lip?

Bang!

There was no time to wonder at the strange way your mouth felt. Your head jerked up and suddenly you were greeted with the second worst sight of the day. The enemy soldiers had you surrounded, they flooded into the room like a locust swarm and pointed their guns at you, faithfully looking toward their Captain for the authority to execute.

Normally you would’ve shuddered, or maybe even fallen to the floor, but you held fast. Your breathing remained calm, but your vision went dark. That’s not to say you passed out, but a thick hazy filter seemed to descend across your eyes. Then just when you were about to question it, your arms reached out as if you were being puppeteered and your entire body unwillingly shot forward.

There was no time to even think to connect your actions to the seemingly absent demon then. Instead you latched onto the soldier in front of you like a bear and sank your teeth into his neck. The man screamed, and yelped, and made all sorts of inhuman noises as he struggled to try and pull you off. Though there was no helping him. You continued to bite at his arteries and savage him until his screams were silent and overtaken by the men around him.

Gunshots rang out, but none pierced you. Men beat at your back and pulled at your arms, but you didn’t break your hold. Copper filled your mouth, but you didn’t spit. You smiled with glee and licked at your own salty tears, disengaging from your target only when you were ready.

Little did you know, this was only the beginning of the butchery.

-🔥-

“For fuck sake, get yersel’ to the sink ye riot!”

You jumped out of your thoughts and hazarded a quick look up to your worried manager, following that up by nodding silently and running off to the bathroom. Fuck. All that you could do was grimly stare down at the blood while it merged with the clean tap water and remind yourself that it was fine. You weren’t outside the wire anymore, you were just wait staff in a small restaurant, and you didn’t need to worry about bleeding out anymore because the biggest hazard you faced now was apparently picking up a dirty knife the wrong way.

“Fucking hell,” you chuckled, quietly facing yourself in the mirror and taking a pause from the gory scene below. “It’s just a tiny cut.”

For a second, so quick you only just registered it, black eyes flashed behind you. You jumped back and hyperventilated, doing everything you could to stop yourself from screaming. Though it couldn’t be helped. You forced your hands over your mouth and yelled a muffled cry into your palms instead and rode out your panicked heartbeats until you could be sure you wouldn’t collapse.

You did a double take, searching the mirror for those horrible eyes or any other signs of their proprietor. However, there was nothing else to see but a pathetic ex soldier, black tile and cheap imitation herringbone wood flooring. Suddenly you felt absolutely ridiculous.

You slipped your hands from your mouth and covered your eyes instead, rubbing at hideously embarrassing tears with anger. That stupid therapist you were going to was so wrong, you thought bitterly, you were never going to make progress. You constantly swore that you could see those demonic eyes wherever you went, and sometimes you even thought you saw him. Well not the demon exactly, but a man that so closely resembled him - just without the tail and black eyes.

It’d been a full year since you’d been honourably discharged from the military, and even in all that time, you still hadn’t healed. Sure, the cuts and bullet wounds had made miraculous progress and faded to tiny scars, but inside you may as well have been a shooting range dummy right at the end of target practice. While your superiors had seen fit to dedicate you with a medal for the miraculous fight you put up against the enemy, your head still hadn’t gotten to grips with just how you did it.

Multiple therapists had put it down to repressed memory. They told you that whatever had really happened must’ve been replaced with that accursed demon summoning ritual that you dreamed up in an adrenaline filled haze. They said you might remember it all eventually once you’d healed more, or even that you might never get the answers you sought. There was no footage from your vest cam, and no other eyewitnesses left alive to say what had happened. Just you and your janky, wacky memories.

“Hey, Riot! You gonna come back on shift anytime soon or do I have to explain to Marco why the big bad ex-soldier is dying over a little cut?”

You turned to the door and smiled to yourself, feeling your chest grow lighter the second you heard that voice. Emily always knew how to pull you out of a funk. With that in mind, you shook your head, felt your goosebumps retreat away and stepped out into the scorching warmth of the restaurant. Once more back into the fray.

“The big bad ex-soldier had a lot of blood coming out that little cut,” you shrugged, “can’t be creating a healthcode violation, you know that.”

Emily raised one of her thick dark eyebrows in question and put her hands on her hips. Oh no, this was the serious stance. In fairness, the tables were mobbed that night and she’d been run off her feet by two difficult tables that were ‘not getting acceptable service by any definition of the word’ as one of them had apparently said.

“Put a blue plaster on it and get back out here before I give you a real war wound,” she growled.

Your eyes widened, but you still smiled despite yourself.

“You’re the boss!”

You rushed off to do as she said, ready to come back out and assist her, and if necessary neutralise any threat to her sanity. Emily was one of the few people you’d reconnected with after coming back home, and anyone that messed with her henceforth, was now messing with you.

She’d seen you out and about at the park one day, taking one of your ‘haunted walks’ as she called them - only because you had trouble sleeping and would walk around in a black hoodie with the hood up. It was like something clicked, after being so reluctant to share anything with your family, or military buddies that tried to reach out, it was like you’d found your key. You’d babbled to her about how badly you were struggling to adjust to civilian life, leaking your frustrations like a bled radiator, and she accepted you. She listened without pity.

Now while you wound a plaster round your silly little cut, you watched her zoom round the tables with true gratitude. She was the only reason you’d gotten the job, and been able to integrate back into real life. As much as you had your moments of frustrations, and had brief run ins with your PTSD, you at least had something to distract yourself with. Something that grabbed your attention and set your breathing straight again, when before you would curl in the corner of your room and scream for many minutes at a time.

Once the plaster was affixed, you fiddled with the cracked old first aid box and wrangled it shut, stowing it back into place with a thud before rushing back out to the floor. The smell of garlic and pasta filled your senses, and the voices of the patrons roared rapturously in your ears again. The normal hustle and bustle of the place set you back into your rhythm and the ramped up tempo sent you hurtling toward the kitchen.

“Where’ve you fucking been?” one of the chefs groused, “we’ve got a million plates for table ten here that need serving! I can hear them bitching from here, get moving!”

“Had a little accident getting the plates to Frankie,” you said, motioning to the plaster and your fraught KP behind the pass. “Good to go now!”

Rather than stay to hear the chef's curses, you rushed off with the plates and delivered them to the table, plastering on a smile as the customers moaned up a storm to your face. After offering them your apologies and promises of free sides, they hushed up and all was good again. You tended to your other tables and resumed duty as normal, rotating around Emily and the other waiter, Michael, like little clockwork toys. You all ticked along perfectly, leaving full stomachs and mostly happy faces in your wake.

“Can you take this to table thirteen, please? I gotta piss like crazy!”Micheal ordered.

He handed you a steak that was positively dripping in blood, almost setting you off again were it not for the fact that you were so confused by his request. There’s potatoes and salad and sauce on that plate, you thought to yourself, its not a body, just a hunk of meat.

“There isn’t a table thir-” you started, soon trailing off.

Michael had long since dashed off before you could correct him and you sighed to yourself. Great, now who on earth could this be for? You knew every table in the restaurant of course, your knowledge on the place was near perfect with Emily acting like a drill sergeant during your probation stages. However, you didn’t know where thirteen could be, because it didn’t exist. Most people knew that restaurants skipped that number because it was unlucky. Apparently not Michael though.

“I believe that’s for me,” called a rumbling voice.

You frowned and looked down to the man before you, startling as you realised that a table had been placed where it shouldn’t have, and in turn you were standing right over a poor customer. No wonder Michael had made the mistake, you had no idea where the table had even come from. Though you were too embarrassed to worry very much about that in the moment, you needed to recover in front of the man before you made an idiot out of yourself.

“Apologies, sir,” you said with a nervous laugh. “It’s been a busy night. Can I get you anything else?”

You placed down the food in front of him and were glad for it after you’d made eye contact. There was something strange about the man that made you jump. His stunning blue eyes captured your gaze and made you feel like you were in the middle of a laser sight. You gulped and looked away for a second afterward, trying your best to compose yourself.

“Thank you,” the man said softly, still fixing his eyes on you. “This is perfect.”

His sly grin struck you as familiar, but when you studied the man more, you couldn’t place him. He had a dark peacoat draped over his chair and wore a black shirt and fitted jeans. His beard was trim and cut close to his jawline, and his hair was near perfect, combed back neatly over his head. Everything about him was perfectly ordinary, perhaps would’ve been completely innocuous if not for his eyes.

You could’ve sworn there was a little black band circling the pupil, but just as you thought you’d lost yourself in them he chuckled at you. Causing your face to flame up in burning shame.

“I’m so sorry for staring,” you apologised, holding your hands up in appeasement. “I don’t know what that was about, sorry. You just seemed familiar for a sec.”

“Oh really?” he laughed, “Don’t happen to know a Jonathan Price do you?”

“Jonathan Price?” you repeated questioningly.

“My name, sweetheart,” he grinned, showing off his pointy canines. “Though you can just call me John if you like.”

“Oh my god, my brain’s going tonight,” you laughed, trying to get yourself away from him and the bloody steak that seemed to ooze with every passing second. “I’ll stop bothering you now, Jonathan! Enjoy your steak.”

His name sat heavy on your tongue, as if a fizzy sweetie had stung at the nerves and left it swollen and red. Jonathan. There was something about it that didn’t fit right. An unnatural force wanted you to turn round and call him a liar, demand that he reveal himself for who he really was.

Though you didn’t put much credence in unnatural forces anymore. Not when unnatural forces tended to be symptoms of your mental illness. Instead you shook your head and kept working, making a note to yourself that you needed to get more sleep that night. Sleep and meds usually helped, and you were praying that they’d set you right again the next day.

#Demon!Price #captain john price #captain price x reader #mw2 #call of duty

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simp-ly-writes · 2 months

Text

"I'll have you know..."

Ask: who was a feared overlord that decided to eventually take a backseat in the power struggle and everything? Because of how long ago she was on top of everything, others tend to forget how evil they are...

Pairing: Vox x overlord!Reader

Warnings: mentions of blood and suggestive themes.

A/N: Sorry for the delay @matrixbearer2024! Hope you all enjoy~

Masterlist | Taglist | un-edited.

Hazbin Hotel Masterlist

↳ Back before television was trying to kill the radio star, you were on the up and up becoming one of hells most feared overlords- picking your way up through the ranks and eventually demoting many names before you in hells history. Yet overtime the constant displays of killing, blood stained underneath your fingernails and lack of social life ate away at you- forcing you to drop it all much to the publics shock and awe

↳ Over the next few years, many other up-and-coming overlords did their best to come take over your position and you allowed them to think they did because in the meanwhile you were finding much richer entertainment than their potential screams while sitting in the audience to one of your closest fellow overlords, Vox.

Without the need for the laugh and clapping cue to play, you were rolling around in your seat to his dry humor and... interesting threats. The crowd was forced into a hypnotic state alongside all the viewers tuneing in for the night while you shook your head, fighting to keep the smile off your face as they cut to a commercial break, Vox waves you up on to the stage with a smile.

He helps you up the last few steps before guiding you into his chair as he leans against the desk to converse with you, "So, what brought the smile out earlier in the crowd?" The TV man asks you as you raise your brow, "just amused with your," you wave your hand around Vox's appearance, "displays of power. Remember how well that went with me the first time," you giggle out as Vox groans, hands moving to cover his screen with embarrassment.

"I was just trying to... impress you then," he tries to redeem himself while looking through his fingers as you crack your head back now, cackles coming out from the back of your throat as Vox thanks himself for hypnotizing the crowd earlier so they would not see the feared overlord like this. "Erm- impressed is one way of putting it love," you read out and pull his hands away from his face as you calm one another down by rubbing small circles to the back of his gloved hand.

"And on that note, we are coming back from commercial break in 20 seconds, back you go now" Vox pulls his hand away with a small smile, ushering you off stage as you mockingly protest with a grin to his laughter before sitting in-behind the camera crew.

"Welcome back, now on tonights news- the Radio Demon appears to be back! And who gives a shit, do any of you?" Vox points towards the silent crowd as they all lifelessly stare back at him with open mouths. "By the sounds of that, no one gives an absolute fuck- just as any sane mind should!" You roll you eyes at the statement, thinking to yourself, he really is not over that lost contract- is he?

↳ When you and Vox are out on the streets one night together grabbing a bite to eat with the rest of the Vee's. A group of up-and-coming overlords swarm your group- trying to force you all into the sewers below them.

You are doing your best to not lose control of your power- of the souls you had collected in that past life of yours but as you soon become overwhelmed, watching as Vox's screen fractures against a brick wall with nowhere to escape to- your mind gives up control in that moment.

Shoving the guys off you- you call forth a few souls linked in contract to you that join the battle as your size only grows with every last breath of the enemy. Stopping and laughing to the sounds of skulls cracking against your boots, twirling around your fingers to strangle another while devouring their very soul. On-lookers run away in horror at the sight, the once feared overlord was feared one more with such hellish displays of power.

Yet Vox, beated, bruised, and trying to pick of the peices of glass in order to repair himself later was out of breath at the sight of you in your true demonic form. His heart hammered in his chest, fuck you look so fucking hot like this, drummed in his head like a broken reccord as Valentino casted him a questioning glance while shooting down another swarm coming up from the sewers.

"Everything alright there Vee?" The studio director asks while reloading his weapon as Vox staggers to a stand, brushing off his coat tails before they both duck out of the way as your claws sweep across the street, a horror-filled amusement park ride the attacks were on while you flung them around and into the side of a building without a second thought.

Twisting back around, you send Vox and ensemble a wink before turning down the street to find the organizer of this attack. Velvette turns around from snapping one of their necks, waving her hands in disgust as she calls for Valentinos handkerchief.

Hands clean she points a finger to Vox, signaling up and down with her eyes, "You may want to sort that out, darling. Does not look good for our image- being all stood proudly and that- would steal from Valentinos side, no?"

Going bright red, Vox forces himself into the wire systems and back to the headquarters where you are already sitting, waiting for him in the living room, freshly showered and a set of coffee on the table. "Do hate the smell of blood, gets in the way on my appetite, what about you?" you casually ask while patting the seat next to you as Vox waddles his way over with wide-eyes.

"Umm... yeah," Vox manages to output, not meeting your eyes as you tilt your head at him in confusion, his breath hitching as more of your skin is exposed as you mutter an ah. Now understanding the issue, "If I had known my true form got you this riled up- sweetheart this would become a weekend special~" you tease, looking the way his screen flickers and his system overheats.

Valentino and Velvette soon burst into the room just as you reach over Vox's lap to grab a blanket for the man. Letting out one last wink, you smile widly at the remaining members as you recall your old stories.

↳ Taglist: @jtcat305 @amarokofficial

#hazbin #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #vox x you #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel x you #vox x y/n #hazbin hotel vees #simp-ly-writes #simp-ly

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diejager · 4 months

Note

I really really enjoy your writing so much!! I just wanna request a fluffy force 141 with reader in Christmas please 🥺✨

Mistletoe

Pairing: Task Force 141 x reader

Cw: kissing, teasing, mistletoe, brat!reader, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 993

“Och, would yer look at that, Bonnie.”

You followed his gaze upwards, his blue eyes gleaming with mischievousness when you caught sight of the green and red mistletoe hanging over your heads. Someone had hung one in the arching entrance of the living-room of your farmhouse, one you cohabited with the rest of the Task Force. It was your living arrangement after you’d all confessed your feelings after Soap’s near death, unable to hold back your tears when he woke up and spilling your heart to them.

“A mistletoe,” his grin was big and gleeful, staring down at you with an expectant expression, his lips puckered and cheeks flushed a light pink, “Yer ken what it means?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, a small chuckle slipping from your lips as you stood on your toes, stretching up to meet him halfway. Your face burned, heating up as you pressed your lips against his, the light stubble around his cheeks scratching your face when he cupped the back of your neck, holding you still to deepen the kiss. Your mouth parted when Johnny’s tongue brushed your lower lip, letting him ravage you in a passionate and loving kiss. Curling his tongue around yours in one last embrace, he pulled back, a string connecting you both as you panted, your hands unknowingly finding purchase on his form-fitting shirt.

You jumped when someone coughed behind you, turning your head to look while you still panted, nodded eyes meeting the warm and tired browns of Simon, his adoring squint and curl of his lips at the sight of you both curled around in an embrace.

“Forgot something, lovie?”

“Yeah, ” you smiled softly, beckoning him over with the small pout on your lips. You pressed your back into Johnny’s chest, holding his arms around your waist, “Join us, Si?”

Without a word, he steppe under the mistletoe, interlacing his fingers with Johnny as they held hands on your hips. Simon pressed his lips to Johnny, a slow and sensual kiss that had Johnny relenting to the older man, letting him take it as his pace. You stared up, watching Johnny burn red from the romantically slow peck, his body shuddering against you. You loved how soft Simon was with everyone, his rough and dark countenance smoothing to a mellow and gentle gaze when he stared at you four.

“Didn’t forget about you, pet,” he narrowed his eyes at your cheeky smile, pulling away from the Scott to devour your lips, rough and emotional.

You heard Johnny rumble, a low and amused chuckle at the way Simon turned you into a whining and whimpering mess between them. You clung to him, pulling him closer to you and Johnny while he had his tongue down your throat, tears gleaming under your lashes as the Scott peppered your neck and the back of your ear with quick pecks. You felt warm, a fire brewing in your core, a wild and untamed flame made of brimstone and amber.

“Mistletoe, sir,” you grinned at Price after you tugged him under the same archeway, a small cackle slipping from you when you caught his surprised look, “Means I give you a kiss, yeah?”

His expression softened, his stormy blues gazing at you so lovingly that you almost felt bad for tricking him, but you had to go on with the plan. He lowered himself, head bowing towards you for the kiss you’d promised with the lively mistletoe hanging over your heads. A teasing grin broke through your smile the closer he got, his gruff face and bear-like beard making you giddy, and when he was close enough, you tipped your face left and planted a kiss on cheek.

It showed on his shocked and dumbfounded expression that this wasn’t what he expected when you told him you wanted to kiss him. The scoff he let out sounded offended, glaring down at your bratty laugh, unamused by your little trick to leave him wanting.

“Cheeky one, aren’t you,” it was an affirmation rather than a question, his mouth pulled in a snarl as he caught you in his arms, wrestling you still as he nuzzled your cheek, body flushed against him as he nipped at the sensitive skin of your throat, “You asked for it, sweetheart.”

His rough hair scratched your skin, irritating your neck in the best way possible as his teeth sunk into your shoulder, the sleeve of your ugly, Christmas sweater slipping down to reveal a sliver of skin for his hungry mouth. You laughed and squirmed in his hold, teeth kicking without aim and moaning when he sucked the skin behind your ear, lapping at the same mark Johnny placed an hour before. It added colour to your blossoming mark, your body shuddering against the deep rumble of his chest.

“A brat, yeah, Cap?”

You didn’t hear him walk towards you too, too preoccupied with John’s manhandling, gasping and mewling until your back met Kyle’s chest, his lean figure grasping at your hips and attacking the other side of your neck. Lips wrapped around your nape, coaxing keens out of you as you writhed between them, mouthing off at them for ganging up on you. They only stopped when your eyes rolled back, limply clinging to Price for support as your head laid on Kyle’s shoulder, panting and heaving.

“Not much of a brat now, are they, Kyle?”

“Not anymore.”

No words were needed at the breathless whisper, Kyle reached for Price, their lips locking over your shoulder, putting on a show of devotion and adoration for your tired eyes, mind numbly taking in the softness in their eyes. They were warm around you, one smooth hand and another rough and calloused, a perfect balance of soft and hard, pulling and pushing like a soft wave beaching the sand. Something fluttered in you stomach, an embracing warmth that left you wanting more, desperate for a tasted of love.

“Merry Christmas, doll.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake

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dark-and-kawaii · 4 months

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༺ 𝒯𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝒫𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒 ༻

Raphael x Tav/Reader | Haarlep x Tav/Reader

Summary/Request: Haarlep and Raphael discover how obnoxious your little imp familiar is… Every time they try to get close to you the pest always interferes.

Note: Two Separate Stories!!! Raphael's is after Haarlep's part!!!

Haarlep x Tav/Reader Is Slight NSFW | Raphael Is Not Happy | Minor Humor | Angst

༺ 𝐻𝒶𝒶𝓇𝓁𝑒𝓅 ༻

Haarlep reclined with a languid grace, anticipation lighting their gaze. Despite their cool exterior, the presence of you, Raphael's esteemed guest, sent an unmistakable thrill through them. A twitch of Haarlep's tail betrayed their growing excitement, a reaction they could never fully suppress around you.

Silhouette sharpening into form, you entered the room, a teasing smile curving your lips. "Haarlep!" your voice a soft serenade that filled the chamber. With a swift motion, you closed the distance just as Haarlep left the comfort of the bed. You leaped into Haarlep's waiting arms, "I couldn’t resist another visit to see my favorite incubus." you murmured, your forehead resting tenderly against theirs.

A low rumble vibrated in Haarlep's throat, a playful nip at your lip drawing out a delightful giggle from you. The scent of your arousal was potent, and Haarlep was confident the night would unfold with the sweet submission of your pleas for pleasure. Or so they thought. It was going as usual until that impish familiar of yours slinked in behind you.

The thing harbored a deep-seated disdain for Haarlep, seizing every chance to mock and undermine the incubus. Impsy's sharp tongue was a notorious irritant, even among the thick-skinned denizens of the infernal.

Despite your cautions, Impsy relished in provoking your "lover," Haarlep. "Oh, Haarlep, you poor excuse for an incubus," Impsy sneered with a taunting cackle. "Oh?! What’s this?? A tail flick? Are we a puppy wagging its tail for a treat from master, Raphael?"

Haarlep met Impsy's derision with a smirk. "Impsy, always the jealous little creature. I imagine I could find a use for that sharp tongue of yours," they retorted with a suggestive wink.

Impsy's response came as a sneer. "Can’t you find someone else to bother other than, Tavy? And no, I'd rather not sully my palate… I don’t like the taste of garbage."

Ignoring the exchange, Haarlep turned their attention back to you, their touch firm yet gentle, a silent promise of the night's intent. Impsy watched, seething, as Haarlep's hands claimed you with possessive ease.

Displeased, Impsy lashed out, interrupting the intimate moment by climbing onto your shoulder, their tail maneuvering around your neck to keep it from falling. Impsy pushed Haarlep's face away. "Back off, lover- boy? Girl? The fuck are you anyway?," the imp spat.

"Impsy!" you gasped, a mix of admonishment and shock in your voice.

Feigning innocence, Impsy met your gaze. "What?"

In that brief distraction, Haarlep smacled the imp from your shoulder and subdued Impsy with their tail. "You never learn, do you?" Haarlep chided, their grip tightening around the struggling imp as Haarlep placed you back down so they could get closer to the imp. "Remember, I'm not just any incubus; I'm a connoisseur of both pleasure and pain. Cross me again, and you'll learn the difference."

With Impsy momentarily contained, Haarlep's attention returned to you, their kiss resuming with renewed fervor. You melted into their embrace, your hands exploring the planes of Haarlep’s body. They were warm to the touch, their skin feeling almost like velvet despite their fiendish texture.

Impsy though, not one to give in so easily, wriggled its way out of Haarlep's tail. The imp's head barely sticking out but enough to where it could bite down firmly on Haarlep's tail. It caused no more than a slight flinch from the incubus. Undeterred, Haarlep released the imp and resumed devouring you whole... Much to Impsy's dismay. The imp crossed its arms and tapped its foot in annoyance.

As Haarlep walked backward, savoring your closeness, Impsy plotted a swift act of mischief, positioning itself to trip the unsuspecting incubus. But fate intervened; Haarlep stumbled over Impsy, and both you and the incubus plunged into the oversized bath, water cascading over the edges.

"Tavy!" Impsy cried, rushing to the bath's edge in concern.

Haarlep's hand emerged, seizing the meddling imp and dragging it beneath the surface. "This will cost you, impling." Haarlep growled, only to pause as they noticed your bubbles rising. With a last-second change of heart, Haarlep released Impsy, allowing the creature to bob back up just as you reemerged, soaked and breathless.

Your drenched hair plastered to your features, your garments clinging to your form, you moved to Haarlep, concern etching your voice. "Haarlep, are you ok?" Your fingers tenderly swept the wet hair from their face, ignoring Impsy's floundering in the bath.

Haarlep responded with a reassuring smile and nod, their tail encircling your waist to pull you near. They caressed your lips, a silent affirmation. You kissed their thumb gently, then playfully drew it into your mouth, eliciting a soft moan from Haarlep, "Such tempting lips." Their eyes fluttering closed as you continued your teasing. You released their thumb with a pop, leaving a thin, glistening thread between you.

Haarlep's arms enveloped you, encouraging your legs to encircle their waist. Their hand found the nape of your neck, drawing you into yet another kiss. You could sense Haarlep's growing desire pressing against your thigh, prompting a moan to escape into their kiss.

"I give up," Impsy muttered, defeated, on realizing its presence was unnoticed amid your passion.

Haarlep's lips found your neck, their fangs drawing shivers and soft cries from you. "H-Haarlep," Their tail ventured further, playfully teasing beneath the fabric of your dress as the bathwater swirled around you.

Impsy, with a flick of its tail, propelled itself out of the water, shaking off the droplets before vanishing into the shadows, its intervention clearly unneeded.

An hour passed, and the imp returned, only to find you still in Haarlep's embrace, both of you asleep in the soothing water. Haarlep's arms were relaxed over the tub's edge, a picture of contentment painted on their face. But even in this moment of tranquility, Haarlep could sense a pair of tiny eyes fixated on them. Opening their eyes, Haarlep was met with Impsy's piercing gaze. The imp stood there, arms crossed while looking down at Raphael's sex toy. Haarlep couldn't help but to smirk, knowing full well that the imp was about to unleash another barrage of insults.

"You and I both know your kind can't fall in love," Impsy spat. It's frustration evident. It's little tail flicked in an attempt to strike Haarlep's forehead, but the incubus swatted it away with a playful yet firm motion. Haarlep then reached down to stroke the back of your head gently, their touch almost protective.

Impsy's fury grew with each stroke, "Can you even truly feel love? Can you understand it's depth and sacrifice?" The imp looks at it’s beloved Tavy, then around the room, Raphael's room to be exact... Sighing, Impsy's voice was softer than before, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, "Face it, Haarlep. This isn't love." Impsy flung its hands in the air, "She couldn't ever be fully yours..." The imp frowned, "Whenever you violate her body it's not just you enjoying it... It's that bastard, Raphael as well… He can feel her, right? You’re just a means to his pleasure.“

Haarlep's facial expression fell while Impsy continued.

“The only reason you’re allowed to see her is because he allows it and because it benefits him…”

The impling was correct. This wasn't Haarlep's room, nor was it yours. It was Raphael's. In the same token this wasn't even Haarlep's true body giving you the pleasure you so desperately craved, it was Raphael's, crafted for his own gratification. Haarlep was an illusion. An image created by this devil…

The incubus looked down at you, their heart a mix of emotions as their fingertips graced your bare skin. This was the closest Haarlep could ever be with you and it was only because Raphael willed it so…

Impsy plopped down on the baths edge next to Haarlep, its little feet soaking in the warm water, “It’d be best just to let her go, even if she doesn’t want that.” Your imp could see the way Haarlep’s hold on you was unrelenting, they were still a demon, a creature fueled by evil… Chaotic at that. Impsy sighed once more, “But you won’t do that, will you?”

The incubus smirked, their eyes glowing as they gazed down at the sleeping beauty in their arms. It was true. Haarlep couldn't just release you. Even if it would benefit you, the selfish part of them would always win out. It was their very nature to take what they wanted and Haarlep desired you more than anything or anyone else. No matter how many times they tasted your sweetness, or fed on you, it was never enough. Their thoughts were interrupted by a tiny hand slapping the top of their head, it was Impsy. The imp stared into Haarlep's face with an intense look of irritation. His face scrunched up in frustration.

Haarlep had only managed a fleeting wave to the imp before disappearing with you in their arms. Soon after, the sound of their reappearance echoed through the space, prompting Impsy to hurry toward the origin. There, on Raphael's bed, lay you, still deep in slumber, held close by Haarlep. Your bare chest was shielded by Haarlep's arms, and their tail discreetly covered you further, while Haarlep’s face was nestled in the crook of your neck, hiding from view.

Impsy approached the bed with a mix of concern and frustration. "Damn you, Haarlep! Raphael will be back soon, won't he? Let her go back home for now!"

Haarlep's response was to clutch you tighter, “My brat can deny me nothing, impling." A mischievous smile played on their lips, "If you think you can persuade me to relinquish my prized possession, you are sorely mistaken." A low chuckle followed their words, and they provocatively slid their tail along your thigh. "She desires me every bit as much as I desire her," Haarlep stated, twisting their body to seize Impsy's tail and draw the imp up onto the bed with you both. "You might as well come to terms with the fact that she will stay with me."

Impsy struggled in their grasp, the incubus never looking at the creature, "And as long as I have her, Raphael will too. So be it, so long as it's I she comes crawling to." Haarlep wrapped their arms around Impsy and pulled it in close to you, locking the impling in their embrace.

Though Impsy attempted to resist, the warmth emanating from your sleeping form was too comforting, causing it to close its eyes and cuddle closer. While both you and Impsy were enveloped in Haarlep's secure embrace, none could see the sorrow lurking in Haarlep's eyes—a sorrow that mirrored the pain on their face. Despite Haarlep’s outward show of confidence and possession, Haarlep recognized the truth in Impsy's earlier words. This entire affair was orchestrated by Raphael, and as a result, you could never truly belong to Haarlep alone.

༺ 𝑅𝒶𝓅𝒽𝒶𝑒𝓁 ༻

The imp, known as Impsy, continued to hurl insults about Raphael with reckless abandon. As you walked down the hall towards Raphael's boudoir, Impsy dangled loosely in your arms, surveying the surroundings of the so-called "house of hope." It wasted no time in expressing its disdain, "I don't get why you stay here in this cheap-smelling perfume foundry."

With a snap of its fingers, Impsy conjured an apple and rubbed it against its arm, eyeing the fruit with delight as it continued its verbal assault, "House of Whore is what it should be called. It smells just like the courtesans up in Baldur's Gate." You glanced down at Impsy, raising an eyebrow at its audacious remarks. "What? I'm only saying you could do better. At least the incubus can keep you pleased, I suppose."

Shaking your head, you halted just outside Raphael's boudoir. "Do you think you could be nice to him just this once, Impsy? And for the love of the gods please don’t bring up Haarlep, it’s a- well”

“Touchy subject?” Impsy interrupted.

Your face twisted with concern, “Well, yeah…”

“Thennn mayyyybe the old half breed devil shouldn’t let you sleep with the- I dunno, the fucking INCUBUS!! You know, the very creature that lives for making love.” Impsy casually took a bite of its apple.

You on the other hand grabbed your head as you continued to cradle your imp in your other arm. Gods, you wanted to tell Impsy to pipe down, but your little familiar had a point… Raphael brought the insecurities onto himself, and now that Impsy was here it didn’t help. Your little impling wasn’t too keen on Raphael, and whenever Raphael got close it would make some sort of remark or push its way between the two of you… You almost felt bad for Raphael for having to deal with both Haarlep and Impsy... Almost.

“Please, just for today, Impsy. Let me have a lovely evening with him. He’s been through enough ever since Gale took the crown for himself.”

Impsy rolled its eyes dramatically, a mischievous grin playing on its lips. "For you my gorgeous, anything. But I hate when the old creep calls you “little mouse”. He says it one more time, and I'm going in fireball blazing." The imp said jokingly, it would allow a peaceful evening.

Acknowledging the imp with a warm smile, you entered the boudoir. "Raphael!" The affection in your call was unmistakable, a testament to your eagerness to be reunited.

Raphael gave you a courteous bow and that familiar, tender smile. "Ah, so you’ve finally decided to grace me with your presence once more. Welcome back, my dearest little mouse."

However, despite its promise- this time, Impsy was not about to let it slide.

Your imp flew out of your arms and positioned itself by your side. "Okay, 'pipsqueak'," Impsy's fingers bent in quotation marks, "Seriously, Tav, why are you with a halfbreed like this? I mean, come on! The guy can't even do his own bidding. He's like a parasitic lemure, hanging off of daddy's little coattails." Raphael's face contorted in anger as Impsy spoke carelessly, "kinda looks like one too. I mean, look at those sagging cheeks! No wonder you made Haarlep look younger-"

"You contemptuous creature!" Raphael lunged for Impsy's throat, but the imp swiftly dashed behind your back, seeking refuge from his wrath.

Hoping to quell the rising storm, you stepped in.

"Raphael, it's just Impsy being... itself. Don't let it rile you." Your words were a plea for calm in the brewing storm.

Raphael, still seething, managed to bite back his anger. "Fine," he spat out, "but your imp would do well to watch its tongue. My tolerance has its bounds."

Impsy, poked its head from behind your back, stuck out its tongue at Raphael, and quickly hid again. The room was thick with tension, a testament to the bitter relationship between Raphael and your familiar. As you stood there, caught between them, you knew keeping the peace would be an ongoing challenge, one that required not just diplomacy, but perhaps a hope for the impossible: an imp with a muted tongue and tempered spirit.

Which would never happen.

Words did so little for Raphael as well, so instead you did the very thing his human counterpart enjoyed the most. Standing on your tiptoes you grazed your lips against his, the gentlest of pecks before pulling back and staring up at him with true affection, your hands resting on his chest.

Raphael's anger began to melt away as your lips touched his, and a reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His hand found its way to your chin to hold you in place, and for a moment, the tension in the room dissipated.

Impsy, however, lived for such turmoil and, despite the peace, couldn't help but strike once more. "Oh, look at the 'Devil' pretending to know love's tender embrace. Is this part of the deception to ensnare another soul?" it taunted with venomous glee.

You shot a sharp look at the imp, frustration simmering. Why must it always push the boundaries of civility? Turning back to Raphael, you opened your mouth to apologize, but the sentiment was never vocalized. Instead, you were caught in the stormy sea of his gaze, a dark tempest brewing once again.

Raphael's hold on your chin grew firmer, a growl escaping him, quiet yet laced with a threat as cold as ice. "Enough," he warned, his snarl barely audible. "Should that imp utter one more insolence, it will regret the day it crossed me."

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew that Raphael was capable of great violence, and you had no doubt that he would carry out his threat if provoked any further. "Please," you implored, the words spilling from your lips, a tremulous whisper.

"Please, not Impsy. It meant no harm, truly." Your eyes flicked to your imp, hoping for a glimmer of remorse that might quell the Raphael’s rage. Impsy's gaze, however, was a silent challenge, its apology as likely as a desert's bloom.

"Impsy," your call a fragile bridge across tumultuous waters, "Raphael has shown me only kindness and truth. Please, hold your tongue."

The imp's expression softened as it met your gaze, and for a brief moment, you thought that maybe you had gotten through to it. But then its features twisted into a sneer, and it let out a shrill laugh. "You can't seriously be defending this pathetic excuse for a devil," Impsy scoffed. "He's not even a real devil, just a watered-down version of one. And he's using you, can't you see that? He's only interested in you because you can help him get the crown!"

Raphael's grip on your chin was unyielding only now his fingers dug into your skin, "Ngh! R-Raphael? Y-you're hurting me..." You gasped, squirming under his touch. But your words fell on deaf ears, as Raphael's attention was focused solely on the imp.

You could feel the anger and frustration building inside of him, and you knew that you had to do something. You reached up, placing your hands on top of his. "Raphael, please. Let me go," you pleaded, tears stinging your eyes.

His gaze snapped back to you, his eyes momentarily softening, betraying a hint of regret before the steely resolve returned. His grip on your chin did not relent. "You will not tell me what to do, mouse.” he commanded coldly, "Apologize for bringing such chaos into my domain. Persuade me with your remorse, and I may yet spare the familiar so you can learn to control it."

You could feel your heart breaking, “I'm sorry," the words barely audible, “I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I didn't mean to upset you." You were desperate now, your voice cracking with emotion.

But Raphael wasn't satisfied, "No, that won't do. Beg."

Beg?! You looked up at him, your eyes wide with disbelief. Could this really be the same Raphael you had fallen in love with? Right, he’s a Devil… And you’ve never provoked this side of him…

His hand was like a vice around your chin. "I said beg.”

Impsys tail fell, you were going to be the outlet of Raphael’s rage and the imp knew he was doing it on purpose to make a point. Would he actually hurt you though? Raphael was far more lenient than most others from the hells… But was it really a risk Impsy wanted to take?

“Alright, alright.” Impsy held its little arms in the air in surrender, “You proved your point, I’ll keep my “tiny” mouth shut.”

Raphael smirked at Impsy, knowing he had won, and his grip on your chin loosened slightly. "Good," he said, his voice still tinged with anger. "Now, go."

Impsy didn't need to be told twice. With a flick of its tail, the imp vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving you alone with Raphael.

"That's better," Raphael said, his tone softening. He released your chin and ran his thumb across your cheek, wiping away the tears that threatened to stain your skin.

Your brows furrowed at him, your arms pushing him back slightly. He could see the distrust in your eyes and the way your body tensed up, your breathing becoming erratic. Raphael sighed, taking a step back to give you space. "I simply will not tolerate disrespect, especially from that imo." His voice was firm, but his eyes were soft. You could see he truly meant you no harm.

You nodded as you tried to regain your composure. "I understand. I'm sorry, about Impsy."

He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close. His touch was gentle, but you could feel the power behind it. Raphael was truly a devil, that much was true, but there was also a part of him that made you feel safe.

"Now," he said, with his usual smile crossing his face, "shall we continue?"

He leaned in and captured your lips in a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Your hands gripping his shoulders. Raphael kissed you with a passion you had yet experienced, his fingers tangling in your hair.

You couldn't help but think about how strange it was. How, just a few minutes ago, he had been threatening you and your little impling…

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