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#cause that will spoil my fic
somekidnamedkai · 1 year
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Idia: *sees me simping for every housewarden except him*
Idia: See, that will just not happen. *invades my dreams*
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sualne · 28 days
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doodling concepts for later stuff in the vamp au, can't show it until the opportunity of a lifetime is done 😔but i really liked this panel
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fiepige · 8 months
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Venom!Hobie Cat-Symbiote AU!
Okay so I might have made an AU of my AU...
It's based on my Venom!Hobie au but with a slightly (?) lighter tone in the sense that Hobie actually gets along well with his symbiote. Though they initially mostly get along due to shared mutural trauma... (But more about that later)
This version of the symbiote is more animalistic and usually communicates with Hobie through emotions- sorta projecting its own emotions and feelings towards him to let him know how it feels about something, though it might also communicate via single words or short sentences but that's pretty rare.
So, I'll do like I did in my original Venom!Hobie post and focus on the Design first:
Since they get along the symbiote feels safe around Hobie and thus it'll often "extend" itself outside of him and take the shape of a (freaky looking) cat - Kinda like how VENOM is able to partially seperate itself from Eddie while still being tethered to him:
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Like this but they actually get along and the symbiote looks kinda like this:
(Once again- I CANNOT draw but the brainrot is stronger so I need to share this)
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(I didn't draw the symbiote goo that would extend from it to tether it to Hobie but it's there I swear!)
Since this is Spider-Punk's symbiote I wanted some of the spikes to carry over in this design
I haven't quite decided if it should have the "running-mascara" look (buttom drawing) for its eyes like Spider-Punk's mask has or not so lemme know what you guys think?
The spikes are used as a way for it to communicate to others as a way to make its body language more expressive (though it only shows itself around people it really trusts so it rarely uses them as it still just communicates its emotions directly to Hobie when it needs to)
And like with Venom!Hobie the spikes are reminiscent of symbiote teeth
When it's relaxed/happy the spikes will be pressed down towards its body - making it easy to pet- if somebody would dare approach it that is
Hobie pets it a lot as it usually sits on his shoulder when he walks around (when there's nobody around that is)
The symbiote is still made of the same goo as regular symbiotes so it does not feel like petting a cat at all- Hobie doesn't mind but most other people find it rather unpleasant to touch
The "fuzzy" look is just the symbiote goo trying to imitate cat fur
The reason the symbiote takes this form is partially because it's more animalistic and likes physical affection (from people it trusts, it will bite your hand off if it doesn't like/trust you and you try to pet it) and partially because Hobie is a cat person and it used it as a method to make Hobie like it more when they first "met" + petting it helped Hobie calm down and still does
It's gotten pretty good at mimicking cat noises including purring
It'll usually stay on Hobie's shoulder or sit in his lap like this, it's still tethered to him so it can't go that far without him - not that it really wants to anyways
If it likes someone it'll rub itself against their legs and mimic purring noises
Okay now we move on to the
Origin:
This is my current headcanon for this AU but as always feel free to share your thoughts/ideas/inputs if you have any <3
Hobie and the symbiote "met" at one of Oscorp's labs
Hobie was living as a homeless teen (13-14 years old having escaped an abusive household a few months prior) and was captured by Oscorp to be used for their symbiote experimentations
Hobie was an easy target as he had just been bitten by the radioactive spider a few hours prior and thus he was starting to suffer from the fever the bite gave him
Hobie was to be fused with a new kind of symbiote
The symbiote had been made to make people more susceptible to orders- making them less inclined to think for themselves
But in order to make that possible the symbiote had been put through some rather painful and extreme experiments- making it more "dead" than alive at this point
When it's fused with Hobie, who's still very sick at this point, the spider bite is still working its magic on Hobie's body and thus it also partially heals the symbiote
Both Hobie and the symbiote are terrified of their situation as they're put in holding cells made specifically for symbiotes.- Their only comfort is each other.
The symbiote takes on the cat like appearance to soothe Hobie after being subjects to a particularly bad experiment
Since Hobie's gotten powers from both the spider bite and the symbiote they quickly become the subjects for many inhumane and painful experiments as the scientists futilely try to figure out how to replicate the symbiote (as they're unaware of the spider bite, thinking the symbiote alone is behind Hobie's new powers)
Due to the symbiote Hobie develops a taste for human flesh
And he gets his first taste of it as he manages to escape the lab during one of their many tests- killing as many guards and scientists on their way out as possible. (This is also the first time they fully transform into Venom!Hobie)
He would later return and burn the lab down completely.
As a result of their treatment at the lab + Hobie's past with his abusive family, both him and the symbiote have developed a deep distrust to other people.
Which is also why Hobie isn't trying to get rid of the symbiote, he considers it his only friend for a long time.
Hobie still loves playing music (which is also how he eventually makes new friends) but has had to make some adjustments due to the symbiote, thus he usually uses both earplugs and noise cancelling earmuffs when he's playing and even then he still gets migraines if he plays for too long or too loud
He still craves human flesh and will usually target cops or anyone associated with Oscorp to sate his hunger.
He doesn't feel bad about killing but will still try not to harm civilians (emphasis on try- sometimes the hunger gets the best of him)
He still operates as Spider-Punk but for a long time he's mostly fueled by his hatred for Oscorp and how they treated him and the symbiote
But as he slowly learns to open up to people he starts to shift his focus onto figting to help people and make the city safer (which means he'll still target cops and Oscorp employees but that's not his only focus anymore) (he also makes an effort to actually save civilians at this point)
Though due to the symbiote and their past this version of Spider-Punk is more prone to just straight up killing his villains (+ he still gotta eat right?)
But I'd like to imagine that this version of Hobie also finds his own community who help him out and accept both him and the symbiote
Giving them kind of a "happy" ending despite this version of Hobie being more messed up and unhinged...
Once again this turned out way longer than I intended lol (I just can't shut up about Venom!Hobie, the brainrot is real!)
Thank you so much for reading!!! <3 <3 <3
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(And please let me know if you have any thoughts/inputs/questions about anything I wrote! The brainrot is real and I'll never get tired of talking about this guy)
Also click here if you wanna read more about my Venom!Hobie concept <3
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achairwithapandaonit · 3 months
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opened up my google docs the other day to find all my bungou wips from back before i started using libre office (and also switched fandoms) and i immediately began re-writing one of them. like, they all still appeal to me so much in a way that doesn't happen often with my fics. definitely something to do with how many of the light novels i read - those really sparked something in me.
anywayyyy because i'm proud of this little bit i'm gonna share the opening scene for the one i'm rewriting. (it's actually such a struggle not to rant about this one, but if i ever post it i do want it to be kind of a surprise. like i want soooo bad to reveal how i plan to end the fic, but that would spoil the ending. sad)
‘The Armed Detective Agency is innocent.’ It’s funny, the way the book interprets things. The words scrawled over it’s page were written by someone naive, honest, and all around desperate. Simple though they are, they weren’t misinterpreted. The meaning isn’t lost; Dazai doesn’t suddenly become innocent of his laundry list of crime, and none of Kyouka’s victims suddenly find themselves alive. The book erases the crimes pinned on them by the Decay of the Angel, and nothing else. It sought out only what was intended. If someone else had used the book, the outcome may have differed. Different thought patterns mean different outcomes mean different capabilities of using the book to get what is wanted – in theory, at least. Idiots get what they want, because they don’t think deeply. The book seeks no further and finds nothing to complicate. In the same simple way the Detective Agency’s innocence was written, making a person must be easy. For an idiot. It must be simple, for someone who doesn’t think. Or, for someone who isn’t aiming to create much. Sigma wasn’t borne of more than a line. A simple line, like, ‘The Armed Detective Agency is innocent.’. He found himself, in a way only a newborn can. Self-sufficient on the will of his author, he flavoured himself with humanity, gathering personality and experience bit by bit until he became ‘Sigma’. The situation changes when you try to create someone who has already existed.
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foxgloveinspace · 5 months
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I'm 9k into this tron fic, and I'm no where near getting to the point of Sam and Tron kissing.
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bifairywife · 11 months
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istg i don’t cry when couples finally have their first kiss/gets together in a series but by GOD did they change the chemistry in my brain this was insANE-
(more thoughts on reblog)
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skitskatdacat63 · 1 year
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Finally got myself to start 2009 :D
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Warning: long-winded ramble about gifing under the cut
Preface: this is one of those rambles that I have to myself in my head when I'm trying to fall asleep and I just keep repeating it to myself over and over and going over it like it's a monologue and then fall asleep unexpectedly
God I can already tell that gifing anything 2009 and beyond is gonna be an absolute nightmare for me 😭 I mean *positive* nightmare, but nightmare none the less. Basically this is because the more recent the race is, the better the production and camerawork is. Which is good for watching but bad when you're trying to condense all of the post-race into one gifset. Speaking of that, does anyone know exactly when the production improved btwn 2005 and 2009? I watched one 2008 race, I really can't remember how good the production/camerawork was. Also I hope you guys get what I mean by that LOL and it's not just me being overly specific
If you've seen any of my 2023 posts so far, you'll notice I'm able to make a pretty fulfilling set focusing on just one driver, and that driver isn't even the winner of the race. Trying to make a gifset of anyone but the winner in 2005 would be borderline impossible because the camera mainly only focuses on the winner, only really showing the p2 and p3 drivers when they accept their trophies. I mean from a viewers perspective, I obviously enjoy the enhanced production because it's really nice to see more of the drivers other than the winner. But how am I supposed to condense it into only 10 gifs AAAAHHHHHH!!! And like to worsen this, even if 2005 had the same production quality as 2023, I think it'd still be easier for me because there's fewer drivers I really like from that era.
But 2009-2013 is the era in which all of my favs are there and in the forefront, so it's impossible for me to take a 2023 approach to it in which I focus on one driver. Like bruh how am I meant to condense it when it's a Seb, Jenson & Mark podium, my folder for the race is gonna have like...30+ gifs. I have enough issues condensing 2023, one driver focused, to ten, and I had issues with 2005 sometimes, so AHHHHHHHH. It's like that meme of the woman getting fed too many cakes. I gifed a tiny bit of China 2009 if you remember, and even though I was only focusing on a relatively tiny section...I swear to god I made like 10 or some other inane amount.
Speaking of 2023 I gotta say, I'm so fucked when inevitably Fernando doesn't end up being on the podium. How am I supposed to make a gifpost when my number one boy isn't there :(( I'm not sure who else I'd end up focusing on? There's not as many drivers I absolutely love in 2023 compared to, for example, the V8 era. It's not like atp I'm predicting Oscar to get a podium so :,) I guess I'll probably end up just making a more general kind of post, focusing on everyone instead of just one driver?
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hesgomorrah · 1 year
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the mash/unit era crossover that exists in my mind is so beautiful. if only there was a way to show it to other people but unfortunately such a thing is impossible
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sky-of-ideas · 1 year
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I am gonna make Wu and Garmadon so morally questionable in the demon's wish au aren't I.
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revrads · 1 year
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Not me writing another multichapter fic when I haven't continued my Faith DBH AU 💀
Anyway, here's a Midnight Mass AU series/fic where Paul/John never brought the angel back to Crockett and was given limited stock of blood!
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1-800-i-ship-it · 1 year
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*impulse watches a movie in the dead of night*
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mejomonster · 1 year
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I. I can't wait to write a 100k fei du x Luo wenzhou fanfiction with Devil King Fei Du (thanks tteom lmao)
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the-golden-ghost · 2 years
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Slowly trying to break my ‘check ao3 every 30 seconds to see if someone left a comment’ habit
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fire from the one word prompts for morinel?
so thankfully this one ended up not turning into a 2k oneshot this time lmao so
fire - morinel, sammath gul!
“We are through. Burning will be your only remaining choice!”
Her mouth quirks at Urchír's boast as she adjusts her grip on her runes. “Do you think so?”
While she may have felt more comfortable using her dual-swords in such a space as this, there is something so very satisfying about being able to let fire, all consuming and all burning and merciless, loose in Thauron’s old lair.
That is, of course, provided that she doesn’t injure her friends and she would never let that happen.
She sends a tornado of flame whirling through the room, channeling the fire that has always bled through her veins in place of blood, the fire that is as much her heritage as the Doom is. She couldn’t help it then, and she can’t help it now.
But this time, she knows how to use it.
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asidewalksymphony · 8 months
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I've been slowly watching DS9 over the past few months, and obviously, I've already been spoiled for some things. I already know that Judzia and Juilen die at some point. But I don't know how.
That's some weird tension trying to watch a show, but in the back of your head, the entire time the knowledge that the character will die, but not knowing when or how, is simmering. The entire time, you're just wondering when the bomb will go off. You know it's there. You know it's counting down. But you don't know how long is left on the goddamn timer.
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bunicate · 3 months
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⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི ₊˚ 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒃𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍. lucifer x fem reader
warnings ꒱ྀི daddy kink. prbly excessive use of princess/little girl/human. size kink. praise. nipple sucking. fingering. possessive luci. unedited as usual. wc ꒱ 6k ノ 18+
note . . ᘏ⑅ᘏ ノ i dunno if this is even a repost anymore bcuz the original fic was only 2k words :c . . i also thought I wasn’t cwazy abt luci anymore but boy . . wus i wrong. i still luv him dearly. i hope anyone who reads this enjoys. thankuuu ^_^
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lucifer could never understand why humans, beings fettered by something as meaningless as mortality, could possess the ties to control and bind demons.
how such frail bodies of small messes, succumbing to sicknesses, phobias, and other little weirds are able to form pacts with such powerful creatures
it’s a polarizing thought that he’s never challenged or sought to change. he understands them for what they are. arguably worse than demons, and he wants nothing to do with them. they are violent, weak, and fickle, and somehow—in the irony of it all—the universe plays a trick on him.
he lowered his defenses and foolishly got ahead of himself. he was unlike his brothers; he didn’t need love or companionship, and yet, of all the powerful beings and creatures, it’s a human that turned him into something unrecognizable.
it was faceless, sneaking up on him, and he was unable to remedy it as he slowly felt it consume him whole.
a bond was webbed between the two of you, and he’s certain, frighteningly so, that nothing could break it.
granted, that level of trust surely didn’t form overnight, as you proved to be quite troublesome. you were used to peeking your nose where it didn’t belong and going into places mortals should never be, making his job more difficult, but still, he trusts you.
with six younger demon brothers and a human to look after, discord became frequent. secrets wrapped tightly were easily unveiled just from your existence in devildom.
he kept a mental checklist of all your wrongdoings, and now your invasion of his heart was another.
his heart.
nothing but proof of his existence, only meant to pump blood and oxygen, has now expanded far too much to fit within his ribcage. it was suffocating.
it made room for a different kind of love, for someone else, and he didn’t think it was possible. he became spoiled by your affections.
he yearned so much for you that he was convinced that his carnage and sadism might have withered. at least, that's what he thought, only to realize it’s been tucked away in a cavity that you simultaneously filled.
he’s unfortunately reminded that it never really went anywhere. he’s respected and feared by all, and yet it wasn’t enough to deter his brothers from causing any mishaps, especially one in particular.
♡ . . ♡
it’s dinner when lucifer decides to strike.
chatter and the smell of only the best food in devildom fill the room. he almost feels bad for souring the joyful atmosphere—almost, but as always, there's an impending conflict that would render him irritable for the rest of the night.
he sits at the head of the table as the eldest brother and strongest demon, earning everyone's stare from the shift in the atmosphere. you and his brothers could sense that he wasn’t going to make a meager announcement. lucifer moves slowly, careful to prevent any of his heedless anger from slipping through.
he looks at everyone in the room, but his gaze lingers on you a bit longer.
“forgive me for interrupting dinner, but it’s come to my attention that someone here has stolen something valuable of mine.” his voice is deep, stern, and accusing. it echoes in the candle-lit hall.
“my credit card.”
maybe it's his sadistic streak, but he knew asking that question was ultimately trivial. he knows which of his brothers is guilty; you all did.
there’s only one demon dumb and desperate enough to steal from lucifer of all people, and while the perpetrator was obvious, it didn’t make anyone any less anxious.
the avatar of pride is infamous for his punishments, and no one wanted to be on the receiving end. when anything goes amiss, they must answer to him, and you were no exception to that rule.
you point your manicured finger at mammon, and his expression morphs into utter terror. he yelps at your tattling, already plotting at least three different ways to make his escape.
“oh my,” asmo laughs.
belphie yawns obnoxiously, unamused by the series of events. it was just another typical night in the house of lamentation; nothing should surprise anyone, and still, lucifer let a troubled sigh escape.
mammon throws a fit of indignation, as if his culpability wasn’t already obvious.
tossing his hands in the air, he whines, “damn it. why’d ya’ have to tell?” he slides down the seat of the chair, trying to avoid lucifer’s angered stare as much as possible.
you don’t think to reply, almost even rolling your eyes at him. everyone knows it’s him, and like the well-behaved girl you are, you figure it makes no sense to drag out the inevitable.
but when everyone’s eyes settle on you in curiosity, you slouch in your chair and blush at the sudden attention. you feel nervous, like you made a blunder of some sort.
they expectantly await your answer, but you don't have one.
“s-sorry, mammon,” you squeak out.
your hands in between your thighs and fidget under their stares.
you couldn’t, at least not confidently, admit that lucifer has you wrapped around his finger. he expects far too much of you, and you couldn’t possibly ruin that because of mammon, but that didn’t lessen the slight guilt from easing in.
“don’t apologize,” lucifer says, bolstering his voice—his attempt at scolding mammon while reassuring you.
“it’s not up to her to entertain your lies. perhaps if you weren’t always up to no good, she wouldn’t have to confess to your wrongdoings,” he lectures.
he sneers at him, and you watch as the younger demon slinks back further. “you’re the second oldest. act like it.”
mammon huffs.
“ahhh, lucifer, you’re no fun.”
admittedly, the brothers would get away with a lot more if it weren’t for your honesty.
make no mistake, they all love you dearly, but the troublemakers couldn’t tolerate your obedience when it comes to lucifer.
when he asked you who ate all the food satan prepared for breakfast the next day, you didn’t hesitate to say it was beel. when he asks you who wrote ‘lucifer sucks :p’ on his wall, you don’t stutter to inform him of satan’s and belphie’s not-so-secretive plan of his tormentation.
anything he wants, anything he asks, you obey. that was just the nature of your relationship.
after mammon realizes pouting won’t get him out of trouble with lucifer, he goes back to eating, and the others follow suit. soon the lively atmosphere returned, but you felt rather self-conscious.
you looked over at lucifer in the hope of finding something that you're weren't sure of yet, only to see that he was already staring at you. you nibble on your spoon, suddenly feeling bare from his lowered gaze.
there is a sense of security that you crave. his look of approval serves as a reminder of why you’re faithful to him. it was rewarding to know that your loyalty didn’t go unnoticed.
you look away quickly to hide your flusteredness by sipping on your tea, but the sweet taste of earl gray isn’t enough to distract you.
dinner begins to slow and wrap up. one by one, everyone bids their goodbyes. mammon is the first to depart, knowing he’d need as much of a head start as possible. when you finish the remainder of your dinner, you get up to leave as well.
you think about how to spend the rest of your evening, and your mind wanders to cramped thighs and ruined pillows.
you grow heated by the memory of previous nights. you touched yourself too many times to count after constantly witnessing lucifer’s disheveled state after his long day of reprimanding.
you stuffed your cunt with your fingers nightly, trying to mimic the feeling of something much larger. it was difficult to commit such acts quietly in a home full of creatures with nearly perfect hearing, and still, you wonder what fantasy will tether you tonight.
maybe the one when he fucks you in diavolo’s office, or your personal favorite, he punishes you.
you fantasize about him pulling up your dainty dress to put you over his lap and spank your plump ass until cum soaks your thighs, but tonight, you don’t have to conjure up anything.
lucifer stops you in the middle of your daydream. grabbing your wrist gently, he catches you by surprise.
you clumsily turn. frazzled eyes meet unwavering carmines. you’re almost certain he could hear the thump beating between your legs.
the prideful demon pulls you close, forcing your bodies to collide and connect like missing pieces. his breath is warm against your ear.
“would you like to come by my chambers later tonight?”
you look up to search his face, wondering if there’s even a sign of doubt. after countless days and nights and all sorts of muddled feelings between sheets, there is a part of you that can’t truly accept that he sought you.
one of the most eligible bachelors in all of devildom, known for his fearsomeness, is holding you like you were glass, asking for your company.
you soak in his expression, and it’s nothing less than firm and impenetrable, and it's then that you realize it was not a question. he was not asking.
struck with a whirlwind of desire from that revelation, you nod weakly, but the demon only shakes his head in response.
“words, my little human.”
your head tilts on its axis only for a moment. your chest had to be wide open, bearing your insides to him. the effect he had on you must have been that obvious. you’re a puddle.
was it normal to feel the static every time he was around, after every word he spoke?
you feel hazy, but also a small sense of relief that you no longer have to question if he still wants you. you’ve exhausted your fingers and toys, and finally, what you have been needlessly craving would be fulfilled in a room only a few doors down. his gaze flickers to your lips, and they shine with promise.
you mustered up all the courage you had left.
“yes, i would love to come by later.”
you’re amazed that it didn’t come out as wobbly as you anticipated. you’ve gotten better at pretending, you suppose.
lucifer gives you a sweet smile. he’s pleased with your answer, and butterflies erupt in your full belly.
his gloved hand then completely engulfs yours to bring it to his lips. not once breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckle before he departs. a hopeless romantic.
he sets out to find mammon, and that gives you enough time to prepare.
you stalk up the stairs, declining levi’s invitation for a night of competitive gaming pitifully on the way. you’ll make it up to him next time.
by ushering yourself into your room, you act immediately. you don’t spend too long getting ready. a steaming, hot shower would suffice. you wash up with a bar of gentle soap, then follow through with too many to-count spritzes of perfume and faint-smelling lotion.
white with pastel pink trim.
your night clothes are simple and short enough to keep him on his toes. you look over at yourself in the mirror.
when did you become so daring ? you didn’t know. maybe asmo’s tips on charm and seduction were finally rubbing off on you. you wonder what his reaction would be if you told him you were using them on his brother. maybe he already knew.
you turn off your light and open your door. you peek down the hall.
it’s silent and empty, just as you predicted.
quietly, you shut the door, cursing to yourself when you hear the faint cry of the rusty hinges. your trek down to his room was anxiety-inducing, but in a good way. you feel refreshed, your body is more than ready, and you’re excited.
you hoped no one would drop by unexpectedly. beel would most likely wake up in the middle of the night for a snack, but the kitchen was in the opposite direction of lucifer’s room. not that it mattered anyway.
it wasn’t really a secret—not that those lasted with you around—but it would be. . . awkward. you’d much rather not have to deal with anyone overhearing all the naughty things you’ll beg him to do.
you stop your train of thought when you reach the end of the hallway. you’re in front of his door, and you sway from your heels to your tippy toes. the fluttery ache in your chest was making you skittish.
you take a breath to compose yourself, and then you knock with three light taps.
“come in”
it takes a good chunk of your strength to open his heavy door, but you appreciate the time it grants you. it gives you the space to calm yourself down and ease your prickly nerves.
when you enter, you let your eyes wander around the room first. nothing but books, old records, and silhouettes of things you couldn’t make out in the dark. you walk in and find him leaning against his unusually messy desk.
there's soft light from the lamp that hugs his frame and illuminates his coat discarded on the nearby dresser.
he fiddles with the strap of his gloves, giving you a small smile at the sight of your presence.
“you don’t have to knock, my love.”
he allows his gaze to explore, drinking in the outfit you picked out specifically for him. already, his trousers are suffocating and distracting him, but he’s quick to recover.
you bite your lip out of habit under his lustful stare.
“i know, but i wanted to just in case you were busy . . .”
there’s an amused huff.
his long legs carry him over to where you stand swiftly. his thumbs caress the apples of your cheeks, and he presses a kiss against your forehead.
“sweet girl.” and the way it skirts the edge of sensuality could make you melt. “even if i am, feel free to steal me away,” he whispers.
you swallow down a moan at the thought. maybe one day he'll eat those words.
his hand trails from your face to the nape of your neck and pauses.
“you washed your hair,” he observes.
you shake your head.
“it got a little wet in the shower so I’m just letting it air dry for a bit, luci.”
you pull at a wet strand and watch it dutifully bounce back in place. “ i was too lazy to dry it.“
he watches the notion with careful eyes. you wanted to giggle at how serious he looked.
“i wish you would’ve asked me to help you. i don’t want you getting a cold.”
you smile at his sincerity. you realized very early on that lucifer enjoyed tending to you. he likes consistency and being depended on.
‘it’s for your own well-being,’ he says, but you think he likes to have a pretty girl to fuss over
you offer him a small pout. “i did think about it, but i assumed you were still scolding mammon. i didn’t want to bother you.”
“besides.” you turn away, “i don’t think he wants to see me right now”
already, you’re embarrassed by the thought of facing mammon again. flustered, you recall tonight’s dinner and the look on their faces. you are definitely going to avoid them at school tomorrow.
you slouch, "he totally hates me.”
you say it half-heartedly, but lucifer looks at you with seriousness.
he softly grabs you by your chin. “don’t speak like that. he doesn’t hate you—none of us do, and i’m not sure we are capable of harboring such thoughts.”
you smile. “i dunno. i’m pretty sure you guys hated my guts when i first came.” you chuckle, thinking he’d at least join in, but he frowns. his heavy hand strokes the top of your head in an affectionate rhythm.
“we had our differences, and i was far too harsh. that i know.”
there’s a faraway look in his eye, and you know there’s a silent storm forming. you reach out to cup his cheek, and he melts into your touch.
“i never hated you,” he says.
you knew that your actions played a part in straining the early stages of your relationship. you also had to come to terms that not only lucifer, but multiple brothers harbored resentment towards humans,
its not a perfect story, but everything about this was completely unconventional. you’re just a woman who somehow found herself stuck in an attempt at other-worldly diplomacy, now sandwiched between the trying relationships of seven powerful demons.
things are rocky, but it’s the happiest you’ve ever been.
“i was only teasing, luci. i'm not mad or scared anymore.”
the hand you rested on his cheeks gets gripped by his larger ones, and he kisses your palm fondly.
“besides, i think we both know i wasn’t completely innocent.”
he takes a deep inhale.
“still, i think about how things were before.” he recalls the past in disdain; he blames his pride and then himself.
“my brothers and i . . . we are devoted to you, and we have the pacts to prove it.”
it’s a provocation you’re still not entirely used to. you had 7 demons who offered themselves to you, and the proof is imprinted on their skin.
in the human world, you’re everything and nothing at the same time. feelings of loneliness and insecurity that are far too loud and are still not enough to matter. you realized everyone lived selfishly, and your heart wasn’t hardened enough to follow suit.
lucifer's thoughts about humans didn’t change, despite his proximity to you. talks of your life as a young girl only cemented his thinking.
you were far too perfect for humans, too devious for angels, and too innocent for demons.
you were an entity on your own, and scarily he worshiped you. all of you.
he’d never tire of sinking his cock into your wet cunt, filling you with his seed, and hearing those saccharine moans that fall from glossed lips. he was ravenous, but you truly didn’t know the extent of it.
“my brothers care for you deeply, as do i, but you must know.” his eyes seem darker and much more predatory, and you can’t bring yourself to look away. like a bunny trapped in a hunter's cage, your doe eyes double in size and tremors rattle through your frame.
“you’re mine alone. your mind and body belong to only me.”
lucifer is well aware that six other cocks competed for your attention. a crass choice of words, but nothing less than true. they vied for the human girl, with nearly everyone wrapped around her dainty fingers. you are a color in the world shrouded in sisyphean darkness.
his lips part on your skin. “they can touch and taste you because i allow it.”
rough hands pull up your skirt, and he grabs a handful of your ass. “this . . . this is all mine.”
you make sure to turn and give your butt a little wiggle. it's more than a sultry gesture, and lucifer thinks a human so docile posing erotically might be the one thing to kill him.
how do you make soiled underwear look so pretty and enticing? there’s a possessive streak, a soft darkness that opens its curtains upon your presence. it peers over his shoulder, urging him to devour you. to pick at your remains until he’s consumed you.
“you're beautiful,” he groans. he inches close to you, and you think your lips are going to meet halfway, but he kisses your forehead.
then, your eyelids, your nose, and the side of your mouth, you look at him with half-lidded eyes, and he doesn’t budge when you try to squirm.
lucifer steps back and leads you to his chair. he settles into the squeaky leather until his back is comfortably cushioned.
he pats his firm lap.
“come.”
you know he’s holding back. his muscles ripple beneath you, he slouches farther into his chair, his legs spread to give his groin space to freely twitch against the slackness of his pants, and it only invites you
you struggle to decide where to sit. his knee or over his lap, both very promising positions, but he decides for you. he pulls your hip so your cunt is nestled right up against his cock. you sigh breathily, already your brain turning to mush.
“i didn’t even touch you, and you’re already making such a mess, sweet girl.”
the angle you tilt your head hides your expression, but from the flutter of your lashes and the purses of your lips, he knows you’ve grown shy.
"you kissed me,”
your sweet tone and your faint aroma of honeysuckle and jasmine make his cock stir.
“is that why you’re so worked up? just from my kiss?”
not even on the lips—not yet at least, and you’ve already wetted the fabric with your sticky arousal.
“what will happen when daddy touches right here?”
it’s a feathery graze against your protruding bud. his knuckles nudge the seat of the moist cotton, right where the white turned nearly transparent against your swollen cunt.
“it aches, doesn’t it?”
slender fingers slip under the band teasingly. he studies the subtle twitch of your hole, pumping a stream of glossy slick.
“do you want me to make it go away, hm? do you want daddy to make it better?”
you nod, a broken moan falling from your trembling lips.
“ i wantmore daddy.”
you spread your legs wider, hoping he’d be more generous with his caress.
“soon, my love.”
his hands trail from your pants to your stomach to your shoulders.
his hands rub your stomach and under your breast, settling right on your hip. you know he is hyper-aware of the thin fabric separating his cock from your heat.
even in his lap, he’s taller than you, but only by a few inches. his eyes are low and hazy.
“i wish to take my time with you.”
his thumb trails over your nipple.
“you have no idea how much i missed you.”
his other fingers pull at the other nipple.
you’ve felt those same digits on your neck, in your mouth, curled around your wrist and threaded between your fingers, and now between your thighs
he begins to grope at your exposed flesh. he admires how supple they appear, and he has to restrain himself from sinking his teeth into them.
your body never falters, and it responds so well to his hot and addicting touch. lucifer tries not to tease you; after all, he is rewarding you, but the little sounds and pants that leave your lips almost make him rethink.
your skirt is wrinkled, and he flips it at your hip, and your entire bottom half is almost fully exposed. your bare legs are on display, and so is your clothed mound. he mumbles sweet praises into the side of your breast while tracing the outline of your pussy through your pants with his finger.
you pull him away from your chest to kiss him, and lucifer has to remember that you’re human. that your small and pouty mouth, which struggles to swallow, is as fragile as the rest of you. palms splayed about on your back remind him he can mold you.
his hands are in a constant of motion, tugging and squeezing at your flesh. it feels like he’s in awe of every part of your body no matter how it differs from his. his touches are messy and yet controlled. they search you in subtle restraint, fearful that they’ll hurt you.
you’ve never been touched this way. to have someone want you so desperately— to possess you almost. his hands are burning you and you feel on top of the world.
you moan at his caress and feel heat rush through your body. if it weren’t for the lack of air in his lungs, he’d never pull away but eventually he does. lucifer experimentally probes your clit and looks up at your face to admire your expression.
“do you like that?” he whispers. you bite your lip, and your voice raises in pitch, “mhm.”
lucifer smirks to himself and kisses your nipple. “what did i say about words, little one?”
he stops his ministrations on your cunt and licks at your areola teasingly. he settles the tip of his tongue on your heated bud, flicking it, sending a shiver down your spine.
“is my good girl acting up?.”
“n-no, daddy, never.”
between each breath, he plants open-mouthed kisses across your chest.
“i hope so. i would hate to have to punish you.”
he sucks diligently and roughly. his tongue aggressively strokes your nipple, addicted to how it feels in his mouth. he closes his eyes and continues his assault on your chest.
your soft cries filled his room, and the feeling of your teat on the surface of his wet muscles pleased him. the aforementioned headache was long gone because the plushness of your body took over his mind and soul.
you may feel an indescribable urge to obey him, but he's just as much under your spell as you’re under his. he’s the embodiment of pride, but he’s not against admitting that you invade every inch of him. you don’t know it yet, but anything you ask of him, he will deliver. he wonders if you could hear his heart thrumming against his chest.
you’re naked, but he feels equally as exposed.
he continues sucking on one breast, his other hand busied itself, rubbing the neglected one. you arch into his touch, your tit spilling out of his hand. the weight of it feels secure in his large palm.
the stimulation has you unruly within his embrace. one minute, your hips are still from his flicks at your pussy, and then it jerks up, wanting more from his skilled and wandering hands.
lucifer likes this side of you, desperate and unashamed of how you wanted him to use your body.
you’re so sensitive that any subtle movement sends pressure to your clit. every time you whimper, especially loudly, he's quick to praise you.
“such lovely noises. i bet you’d do anything to please me, hm?” he hums.
you remember his earlier warning eager to be on your best behavior. “yes, daddy.”
it was hard to verbalize but you were at his mercy. anything for his approval, anything for his praise, you’d do it, especially if it meant you’d get rewarded like this.
he then pulls up your soaked panties, and you gasp at the sudden gesture. they stretch across the surface of your wet pussy, and they snap from his brute strength. the break in the fabric spanking your cunt.
“what a pretty thing.”
he tosses your ripped panties to the floor, ruining your perfect set. but he’d buy you another.
“i just want to be your good girl,” you say, rubbing your legs together in anticipation.
“you’re always my good girl. isn’t that right?”
you nod and feel happiness bloom.
“the best girl for daddy,” lucifer sensually encourages.
at this rate, you’re dizzy and drunk on his intoxicating words and erotic touch. you’re babbling, and lucifer finds it endearing.
you whine when he finally takes his gloved finger and rubs slow and tight circles on your slippery bud. “dada—.” you cry especially loud.
“i know, i know,” he shushes.
you felt relief consume you at the friction of his gloves on your trembling cunny. he continues to rub and fiddle with it until you’re forced to bury your mewls into the crook of his neck.
he takes another finger and presses down on your twitchy button, and you flinch at the sudden burst of pleasure.
he knows your body like the back of his hand, and he knows how to make you fall apart. his finger continues to work on your sensitive nub, and you gradually begin to soak his lap with your arousal.
he drags his fingers over your labia and grazes over your desperate hole.
within a few strokes, he plunges two fingers into your heat. he watches you push your tits into his face from the pleasure that forces the arch in your back. and he takes a deep inhale. your pussy greedily latches onto his fingers, and you’re practically fucking his hand.
“you look so delicious in my lap. such a beautiful sight, and it's reserved for only me.”
the depth of his voice sends shudders through your body
he loved how his fingers slid right in. it felt like your pussy was made to take what he gave you. his big fingers fervently stroke your insides, and your legs shake.
just watching your tiny hole stretch to the width of his fingers threatened his self-control. he wanted to fill you with something much bigger, and he’d know you would take it because you're his precious girl.
he wants to see your cunt wrapped around his heavy cock, but he’d settle for now.
just seeing you so pliant in his arms from his tongue lapping at your breast and his large fingers was enough for him.
you drip all over his wrist, and it darkens his gloves.
lucifer’s fingers rub every soft ridge, and your cunt is more than happy for it. the wetness, the squelch, the tightness—it’s overwhelming for you. you feel as if you’re finally unraveling.
"i'm going to cum, daddy. please." you don’t know what you're begging for, but whatever he was willing to do, you needed it now.
lucifer knows you’re close—very close. you’ve nearly gone stiff, and you’re shaking against him. your toes are curled, and your first is clutched.
“oh, is this princess’ pussy going to make a mess?” he coaxes. you open your mouth, moaning, and lucifer leans down. your foreheads are touching, and you unabashedly mewl, your minty breath fanning his face. “is she going to cream for me?”
you feel your orgasm sneaking up on you. lucifer only increases the pace of his fingers thrusting in and out of your cunny. he becomes more brutal, only wanting you to be within his arms as his only goal.
he’s so close to you that your lashes touch his skin. sweat simmers on your chest, and he sucks on your now bruised bottom lip from all your biting.
with two fingers still buried inside you, stroking your walls, he presses his thumb to your clit once more.
“that’s it, it’s pretty girl.”
you felt it coming; you had ample time, and you tried to keep yourself contained, but the force was still too unbearable. you had no idea how much he was holding back.
“i’m so much bigger than you. so much stronger, and you’re so little, princess.” he chuckles in a state of disbelief.
“and you’re not even scared.”
“you’re too trusting, but i suppose that’s why i love you so much. daddy’s brave little girl.”
like a lick of lightning, lucifer feels his desire threaten to snap. his human—his sweet mess full of little weirds, kind eyes, and a soft mouth was going to make him lose himself. he's growling like a beast with every chant of his name.
“daddydaddydaddy —hiccup— love you lots, b-but. i-i can’t think anymore. can’t take it.”
drool collects on the side of your mouth.
“i know it’s a lot for you right now, but you’re doing so well, princess.”
he re-adjusts your body on his lap. “just think about daddy and his fingers.”
the appendages stretching your cunt pull out briefly.
“look at that precious pussy.”
he spreads your labia watching the uneasy throb of your hole that begged to be stuffed.
lucifer wants to mount you, but he remembers what he is when he can smell the blood pumping through veins and the feeling of your heartbeat under the tips of his fingers.
he needs to treat you like a prized dolly to dress up, to kiss, and to fuck.
you don’t need to think; he knows what’s best, and he wants to keep you on a shelf for his own use.
you made him a beast, luring him into darkness, but he was never good at hiding. he felt like he was defiling you. you were truly an entity different from anything he’s ever known. sweet as brown sugar, and he’s tainting you.
still, the thrust of his arms grows stronger. nothing but the milky, wet sounds of your drenched cunt
“your little pussy is crying. you can let go for me.”
your hearts swell with another wave of heat. the sweet babbles of you wanting to reciprocate his love die on your tongue when your body stills. you toss your head back with a pretty wail nearing your crescendo. noisily, his fingers pump your pussy with trickles of wetness spurting out.
your hips jolt forward and erratically hump the heel of his palm, hoping to reach your end much sooner.
“m right there, —!”
he's going to make you cum hard. everything from the sound of his voice to his rough fingers to the shape of his cock could make you cream. his skill never fails you, always leaving you nearly boneless. you’re always going to come crawling back for more, without a doubt.
lucifer feels your walls pulsate around him, warning him of your impending orgasm, and it strokes his ego.
“daddyyyy,” you pant deliriously. his thumb drags at your clit repeatedly and with the sensation of your insides being drained, you sob. you’re too loud, but you can't remain silent any longer.
lucifer kisses your forehead to soothe you, and with a slight pinch of your throbbing cunt, you erupt in the middle of his embrace. the dam finally breaks, and your pussy convulses angrily like it's trying to push his fingers out.
“thaaaaat’s it, baby. daddy is so proud of you.”
he increases his pace, draining you of all the cum your cunny could pump out. until your knees buckle around his wrists.
your chest expands, desperate for more air. your head is fogging up, and you’re exhausted. your limbs are strewn across the demon, lacking complete strength.
lucifer lets you cool off from your high, and he slips his fingers out of you. without hesitation, he buries them into his mouth. the taste of you fills his taste buds to utter satisfaction. you're delicious, sweet and sour, and addicting. he would inject the very essence of you into his veins if he could. but maybe he's already hooked on you; that would explain his racing mind filled with thoughts of only you.
this demon that he’s become terrifies him, but he doesn't want to change. his family and his precious human are all he needs.
he wraps you up in his arms and hugs you. your back is now pressed into his chest, eyes closed blissfully. lucifer tucks your head under his chin, and you rest safely in his hold.
he silently admires the number he did on your body and feels the familiar feeling of pride bursts within him. he looks at your beautiful face, your puffy nipples, and used pussy and he feels gratified fulfillment engulf him.
“perfect human,” he mumbles.
he graces you with another kiss on your heated skin.
“my obedient little girl.”
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