#demonic possession as D/s play | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 months

Text

possessed, m | jjk, myg

pairing(s): jungkook x reader x (minor) yoongi

summary: Burning hot. Freezing cold. An all-consuming addiction to subspace that dominates every centimeter of Jeon Jungkook's mind. There is nothing to stop him when his favorite psycho demon bitch is just as crazy as he is. He'll do anything to get his fix.

collared au chained, yg | tainted, jk | twisted, jk+yg | wicked, jk+yg | burned, jk+yg

warnings: rated M (18+) for language - [!!!!] dangerous temperature play, do not attempt! I warned you, this is fiction, I am not responsible for your dumbassery; JK is dangerously deep in subspace and, if you feel like him, you need to take a step back and reevaluate; intense D/s smut (fem reader, fire play, pain kink, hair-pulling kink, marking from burns / bites, mentions of m-masturbation, spit kink, ice play, nipple play, handjob, m and f-receiving oral, cock-and-ball torture, forced orgasms, overstimulation, face-sitting, cum-eating, humiliation kink, voyeurism); non-idol!AU - sub!Jungkook x goth, dom!reader + surprise sub!Yoongi at the end; JK's POV ad he's an extra subby pain slut; can be read alone

“You like fire?”

Fuck, Jeon Jungkook liked anything if his favorite crazy bitch was doing it to him.

“You bring the match and I’ll be the kerosene,” he breathed into her intoxicating kiss.

She laughed and he swallowed it.

His friends had been telling him he had become quite cool these days. He had changed his fashion a bit, going for the heavy black jackets and ripped jeans and old band t-shirts. He used to think he needed to uphold a façade in public, but now he realized that he didn’t care that much. He cared a lot more about how she viewed him. On sore says, Jungkook wore baggy athleisure and made sure his hood was up to hide the marks from his collar.

He was wearing his sweat sets a lot these days.

He pulled away, wanting to look at her again.

They stood facing each other. She grinned. Mischievous, sexy, and an extra psychotic glint in that fashioned heterochromia stare. Left iris covered with a flat white contact. Right iris as real as it got. He bit the side of his lip, feeling his second lip piercing press against his teeth. He had stripped his hoodie off like she asked, leaving him in only his mesh shirt in her cold studio office. The door was locked, leaving him at her mercy.

His nipples hardened as she held up the box of matches.

Who was she?

His lover. His maker. His lifeline. His only reason to exist was to be her sexual punching bag. Fuck doll. Cum dumpster. Whatever she wanted him to be on that day. He could be anything. Better if it was with malice and to his detriment. This wasn’t a game to him anymore. This was everything.

She.

Was.

Everything.

She struck the match against the sandpaper, grinning wider as the flame burst into life.

He could feel the heat against his chin.

The excitement.

The anticipation.

The arousal seizing his blood, searing downward to his cock, making it swell and pulse.

Jungkook used to feel guilty about his fantasies. After all, they were born from despair and a need to be someone he wasn’t. But his past haunted him. His dreams of love had been burned against his will, turned into scorched earth by someone he used to have faith in. He had loved someone will all his heart and she stomped on it, took a shit on it, and threw him away. Cheated on him with multiple partners and laughed in his face. When he left, he vowed to become a different man, but that turned out to be a lot more difficult than he thought. It seemed impossible to escape the constant daily misery. He questioned everything he did, his actions for others marred by her taunts, reminding him he had been so easy to take advantage of, reminding him constantly that he believed in all the wrong things.

Love.

Truth.

Heaven.

But, then, a goth bitch from hell changed everything.

He had to thank Min Yoongi for that.

She brough the flame closer, exhaling so he could feel her hot breath and smell the cinders.

He craved his penance for having faith. He craved to forget. He craved to make the constant loop of self-deprecation stop. It was all a mistake thinking that love couldn’t be foul poison. All snakes concealed themselves in good intentions. He craved to feel something besides the sadness, vowed to replace it with something stronger. Something rawer. Something innate, even more so than that poison called love. He learned it was okay to make mistakes. He learned to be was okay to be fractured, because there was something that could make him whole.

Pain.

Pain made him perfectly, completely, blissfully whole. He adored excruciating pain most of all. The more unavoidable and unbearable, the better.

She struck the flame across his collarbone and he gasped.

The match snuffed out with the speed.

A thin tendril of smoke slithered in the air, indicating the end of the fire, but he could still feel the sting on his skin. The heat had melted the threads of the thin mesh. The glint in her eyes, maniacal. Devouring. Eating up his reaction like it was feast. She flung the used match away and, before it had the chance to hit the floor and snap, he was groaning in agony as her fingers tore at the still-hot burn, the hurt slicing through his body in an erotic shudder.

His shirt ripped.

Jungkook looked down, seeing a red-hot mark on his chest.

If pain was beauty, then she was about to turn him into a pretty, pretty bitch.

His head snapped back up.

The corners of his lips rising, matching her insanity.

Her eyes glowed as she lit another match.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot when you want pain,” she snickered and struck the flame over his chest again.

He moaned, lustful and grateful.

Why should I struggle to find someone to walk through hell with me when I can just find hell and burn in it of my own free will?

He moaned at the pain, shuddering against the wall as she tore his shirt again, exposing the blistered skin. Match. Melt. Nearly burned. Torn away. He could feel the intensity radiating off her gaze, eagerly consuming the marring of his body. Building the hunger. His breathing shallowed as she traced an unlit match against his tense abs, leaning forward. Her lashes lowering, savoring the way his chest rose and fell shakily as he felt that rough pinprick drag across his skin.

Why fade when I can burn?

She raised the matchstick, holding it in his view.

Broke it in half right by her cheek.

He whimpered, longing for the torture. She dropped it, breathing out hotly over his trembling lips. The burns were significant enough to hurt for a couple days, but shallow enough to not leave a permanent mark. Somehow, she knew just the right pressure. His blood boiled. A rehearsed action? Practiced? On who? Then despair bled in. Not him.

He wanted it to be him.

He whimpered, tangling his fingers into the holes of his shirt and tearing at the irritated skin more, pain ricocheting over his nerves, his body screaming at him to stop, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about the consequences. He didn’t care what anyone thought. He didn’t care if his body could take it or not. He didn’t care if he bled. He wanted this.

He needed this.

Jungkook used to feel guilty about his fantasies, but the desire to be abused was so much stronger.

She lit another match with a raise of her eyebrow.

Flicked it over his fingertips.

His hand recoiled reflexively and he cursed his body for rejecting the flame. He wanted to cover it with his palm, feel his skin blister as he snuffed out the fire, but she danced the light away from him, shooting it across his left forearm. Instantly, the piercing discomfort made him cry out, and then again the threads were torn, nearly ripping the sleeve clean off. He could almost, almost feel the individual tugs each melted thread, and his eyes rolled back at the thought.

She slapped his arm, right across the singed skin.

His knees buckled in fiery ecstasy.

His hips thrust up and into her crotch. The bulge in his jeans caused the hem of her short skirt to flip upward. He was so hard that it was embarrassing. Deliciously shameful. His cock ached for more. He wore jeans on purpose so he could feel the frustration of the metal zipper struggling to cage him down. He heard the sound of her stepping forward, a weighty clink of chains and heavy sole, and her body practically pinned him to the wall, one of her legs jammed between his. Tilting, making him wince as her thigh collided with his erection, but she didn’t seem to notice or care, cocking her head and leaning back to light another match.

His breathing was so shallow that he was nearly hyperventilating.

Staring at her, wide-eyed and unsatiated.

“The fuck you looking at?” she spat, her lip curling.

Then she grabbed his face with her left hand, forcefully turning it to his right, the matchbox in her palm cutting into his cheek. He gasped at the force, and then froze as he felt blazing heat against his exposed neck, right above his racing pulse.

She leaned forward.

She was crazy.

He loved it.

“You’re so fucked up, Jungkook.”

Yes, he was. He was. Burn me. Burn me, he wanted to scream, but her hand was clamped over his mouth and his entire body was vibrating uncontrollably. The flame right above his neck. The moment must have lasted less than a second but fear and anticipation turned it into another lifetime, suspended in terror before known pain, and then.

A swift, cool puff of air.

The acrid stench of cinders.

Tendrils of smoke swirling around his face.

It took him a moment to realize she had blown out the match but before he could comprehend the despair, she sank her teeth into his neck. He choked behind her hand, mostly from shock, his hands flying up and gripping her waist. The flimsy distressed sweater barely covered her bra, let alone block his hands, and he was able to grip skin-on-skin, digging his nails into her flesh as he moaned behind her hand, flourishing in the anguish, delicious pain radiating from her ravenous mouth biting and breaking blood vessels under his skin, bruising him.

Marking him.

Turning him into her possession once again.

He heard the audible crack of the used match next to his ear. Three of her fingers hooked into his open lips and pressed against his tongue, her almond-shaped nails digging into the wet muscle. He groaned, tasting burned air and iron at the back of his throat. And the pain, the pain. Her mouth moving all over his neck. A necklace of bruises, followed by her drenched tongue creating a thread of saliva to connect them, her spit mixing with his sweat and running down his chest.

Oh, how he wished he could watch himself being abused right now.

Sometimes, that was all Jungkook could think about.

Like an addict chasing for next high, and the next, and the next, never enough. When they couldn’t meet, Jungkook would look at himself in the mirror, naked, and trace the marks she left. On his neck. Over his chest. Decorating his thigh. Along his hip. Purple and red and pink, including those with the nasty green-yellow twinge on the way to recovery. Wanting more. He had scars on his heart, so why not on his body too? That was why he got the tattoos and the piercings. He loved to see her eyes light up when he got a new one, pulling him closer to inspect him, closer to feel her breath on his skin, turned on by his pain.

He even liked knowing he wasn’t her only one.

He would touch himself, running his fingers over the marks, over his hard nipples, imagining any second that she would walk up behind him. Hoped she could witness how greedy he was for the pain. Aching to feel her long fingernails clawing over his chest. Red lines of sin. His own fingers curling inward, attempting to mirror her force, gripping his cock and rubbing the head until it was red and raw, reliving the memories, drowning in them, his black hair falling over his glazed-over eyes, breathless shudders escaping his open mouth, watching his reflection fall apart and wishing she could see it too, waiting for that heterochromatic stare to rise behind his shoulder, one dark eye and one stark white.

Her rough, harsh whisper heating his shoulder.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she growled down at him.

She had grabbed him and thrown him onto her desk, sending pens flying, his back colliding with hard wood and his legs hanging off the side. His torn shirt tore even more. His hands had flown down, gripping the zipper of his jeans and pressing down.

He froze at her command, raising his head slowly, eyes wide.

She forced his knees apart.

He gasped, his swollen cock bulging even against the thick fabric, too hard to be confined. She stepped even closer, her short black pleated skirt bunching up, and she reached down with one hand to blanket it over his crotch, making the tent all the more obvious and contained.

In her other hand, she held a glass full of ice.

So that was what was sitting on the minifridge when he walked in.

She smirked.

A little psychotic, a little mischievous, a lot sexy.

“You're runnin' hot. Let me help you with that.”

And, even though Jungkook knew it was coming, even though he could see her pick up an ice cube with her fingers, even though his body was aching from bruises and burns, he still nearly screamed when the ice cube was shoved into his hard nipple, shock shooting throughout his nerves at the cold, moaning as she rubbed it back and forth, rapidly melting water mixing with sweat and spit.

He fell back against the desk with a dull thunk, writhing, trying to move away and trying not to move at the same time, his back arching towards it. Sinful pleasure rising to new, uncharted territory. Her low laughter rang throughout the room, swiping the ice cube over one of his fresh burns, and Jungkook bit back a howl, his hands flying up and grasping his hair, pulling at it, adding pain on shock.

Her name dragged out of his throat, desperate and raw.

The melted cube slid off and hit the floor.

Neither of them cared.

“What’s the matter?” Her rough voice was deeper than usual, slipping into her satoori. “Can’t take it?”

She ran another all over his neck and his head hit the desk, ice to bruised skin, freezing his sudden goosebumps, his depraved moan directed to the ceiling. Cold liquid seeped down onto the nape of his neck, into his hair, onto the desk under him, into the remnants of his mesh shirt, and then the ice travelled back down, abusing his other nipple. Hard nub to cold stinging, morphing into wicked pleasure, turning him on so much that it was intolerable.

His hands flew back down to his jeans.

This time she didn’t stop him, grinning, dragging the frozen cube down, down.

Over his tightened core, the melting ice making his cut abs glossy and glistening.

She swept it around his lower belly as he fought his pants, gasping and squirming, his cheeks burning as he realized his boxer briefs were soaked with pre-cum, nearly sobbing as his erection was freed. The heavy, pungent scent of semen hit the air, accompanying the burning smell. His jeans were heavy with his belongings and instantly clunked to the ground. His boxer briefs tangled by his calves, sliding down from her opening his legs wider.

He looked down.

Thick, dark red, his stiff cock sticking upwards.

Begging for it.

He gripped his tense thighs, knowing what was coming and not wanting to stop her.

Her wrist flicked.

The ice cube plopped into her palm and then she gripped his cock, pressing the small hard object into his even harder cock, stroking up and down without hesitation. His head snapped back and he nearly saw stars, his fingernails digging into his thighs, the cold point overcome by her hot hand, shock and pain and pleasure and immoral desires all rolled into one.

She hovered over him, grinning madly from ear-to-ear, delighted by his reaction.

A demon of lust overcome by her power.

The small remainder slipped out of her palm and hit his balls, sliding off with a prickling line of ice-cold water, but Jungkook was trapped by her wild eyes, absorbed by their shared insanity, panting hard, her punishing grip deliberate and intense, his hips bucking to every pump of his cock, his tongue sliding out, tasting the air. Pre-cum, cinders, her bittersweet perfume. Losing himself to the uncontrollable shivers all over his body and the prickling latticework of his nerves attempting to keep up with the piling sensations. Nearly crying when she stopped jacking him off, pulling away so he could see how swollen he had become.

Squatting down.

Her piercing stare above the throbbing, purple-red tip.

The glint in her eye.

Sadistic.

She was so beautiful, just like this.

He heard a clink of the glass touching the floor. Another ice cube appeared in her left hand. Wordlessly, she brought it to his length and pressed it to his hot shaft. Jungkook winced, clawing at the insides of his thighs to stop himself from flinching away from the cold, and then watched in fascination as the veins become more prominent, his length reddening, violently turned on by it, his cock twitching and pulsing, his body too confused on whether to back down or continue being aroused.

The ice cube slipped down, to his balls, and he bit back a yelp, immediately feeling them pull closer to his body, but she gripped his cock again, pumping him hard and fast, smearing freezing circles over his balls at the same time, causing cold water to drip down his legs and onto the floor, the fat droplets creating audible plop, plop, plops.

He couldn’t think.

Couldn’t breathe.

So good that he could only moan helplessly and thrust up into her hand. She gripped him, tighter, spitting onto her fingers, slicker, wetter, hot and cold and the unbearable ache between his legs, his shoulder blades pressing into her desk, his spine arched to the brink, begging, pleading, d-don’t s-s-stop, the pitch of her name becoming feverish as the ice slipped and skidded over the floor, but it didn’t matter, didn’t matter because she grabbed his balls instead, wrapping her fingers around them and squeezing.

“H… H-Harder…!”

His hair was stuck to his face, his eyes rolling back, his tongue hanging out of his open mouth, forcibly pushed to orgasm with the punishing clamping of his balls, and it all came down with a crash, the air crushed out of his lungs with a carnal cry, his cock violently jerking, shooting out a stream of thick cum that was quickly covered by her mouth, sucking it off with a lewd slurp. His hips snapped back from the whiplash of overstimulation but there was nowhere to go and he found himself wetly begging, almost sobbing, k-keep going, make me cum a-again, please…!

On the brink of agony and dependent on it.

“Please, don’t s-sto– oh, fuuuuuuuck…!”

Her mouth completely covered him, now two hands on his balls, tugging them in different directions, her knuckles closing in, locking. Pulsating around the delicate skin and sending him into blinding pleasure, on the edge from her wrapped tongue and steady abuse, and somehow she knew the exact amount of cruel pleasure to inflict that was almost, almost too much. Up and down, her punishing tongue pressing him to the roof of her mouth. Down her throat. Tight. Wet. Suffocating. Sucking. Spit leaking out and dripping down to his balls. Sticky, milky from his cum. The head of his cock was so sensitive that he could feel every ridge on the roof of her mouth and the pinch of her slippery throat muscles choking him.

He came so hard that his vision went black.

Hoarsely screaming her name.

She stopped moving her head but sucked him dry, swirling her tongue around and around and around.

His skin burned, his chest tight, his crotch ice cold.

Jungkook blinked hard, trying to come down, mind foggy and hazy from the back-to-back orgasms that had expended his consciousness. Blurred vision, shaking hands, his knees buckling. Coldness. He could hear clunking, sense movement, but his vision was blurred by his own tears, distracted and disoriented by his high.

Then his vision went black again and her bare pussy collided with his open mouth.

He gasped under the unexpected weight, her knees by his head and her hands clutching his hair, pushing the crown of his head back, pressing her wet pussy into his face. Sweet slick smeared onto his lips and slipped down into his mouth, and he was obsessed, possessed, latching on and thrusting his tongue inside, her skirt blanketed over his head. He couldn’t see anything. He didn’t care. She sat on his face, her thighs pressed to his cheeks, and he clawed up his own body, sinking his hands into her soft ass to put more of her weight on him, moaning into her wet folds, covering himself with her juices.

It stuck to his lips, his cheeks, his jaw.

He curled his tongue around her clit and coaxed it with licks, hearing her growl in satisfaction, her grip tightening in his hair. Grinding on his face, smothering him, but he didn’t care, wanted it, needed it, licking, sucking, drinking down her slick, straining his neck to close his lips around that elusive bundle of nerves and making it his.

Hard, primal exhales up above, riding his face and chasing the high.

“You’re such a pain slut.”

A man’s voice.

Raspy and smokey.

Amused.

Jungkook became highly aware that he was mostly naked, legs trembling from tension, spent cock bouncing in the air. On his back and pinned to a desk with pussy molded to his mouth, half-crushed by being sat on, his face covered by a short skirt and his hands molded to the juicy curve of her ass.

And he liked it.

No.

He loved it.

He ached for it.

He made an effort to be more noisy, more obvious, licking and sucking, his wanton moans muffled in his chest, rolling his body up into hers, earning another tug at his hair and a dark laugh some ways away, the Daegu satoori slipping out due to arousal.

“Yeah? You like me watching?”

She snickered, wicked and husky from approaching orgasm.

“Of course. He’s a fuckin’ freak just like you, Yoongi.”

He could hear the heavy tap, tap of boots. He felt her arch, a soft moan emitting from her lips, and he whined under her as her pussy spasmed and spilled onto his chin, her taste becoming sweeter, less viscous, stark. He sucked it all up, noisily, his forehead damp with sweat, but not stopping, running his tongue up and down her slit, shoving his tongue into her pulsing hole.

“Listen to him. He’s so desperate to make you cum in front of me,” the low, deep voice of Min Yoongi hummed. “You really gonna show me that face while he’s doing dirty things to you?”

Her teasing voice was daring, cold.

“Yeah, I am.”

Jungkook couldn’t see and could barely breathe, but he could hear just fine.

“Come here, then. Take out your dick. Prove to me that you aren’t hard.”

She curved her hips and Jungkook released the strain on his neck, gulping down a sticky, much-needed breath, and then he had to blink hard as light suddenly flooded his vision. Something brushed up against his upper arm. Rustling fabric. He heard a wispy sigh, and looked up to see the dark, cat-like eyes of Min Yoongi narrowed down at him, framed by long strands of black hair.

Jungkook stared right back and pressed his lips to her clit, making her moan with his tongue, her cum seeping down his neck.

Another stare joined Yoongi’s. One dark iris, real. One fake iris, vivid white. She grinned, sending another flare of wicked want through him, acutely aware of the indecent position he was in. A little psychotic, a little mischievous, a lot sexy. Her left hand gripped her skirt, bunching it at her waist, and the other was on the desk, allowing her to hunch over him.

She licked her teeth.

Carnivorous.

“Guess what, Jungkook?”

His eyes widened as he felt fabric slide down past his arm.

“Yoongi’s hard watching you eat me out.”

There was the audible slap next to his head, right onto her thigh. She rolled her hips into his mouth, and he opened up, sucking on her clit as he heard a soft hiss, seeing the shoulder of Yoongi’s black long sleeve move. Hearing the back-and-forth slaps. Smelling the scent of pre-cum once again, but someone else’s, smearing right onto her quivering thigh next to his head.

Yoongi’s gaze sharpened, biting his lower lip, fixated on her clean-shaven mound rocking onto Jungkook’s needy and willing mouth.

“Makes you fuckin’ hard watching him between my legs, doesn’t it?”

Jungkook whined at her icy, heated tone.

The older male’s breathing was growing thin, the repeated noise of hand on flesh getting faster, louder.

“S… Shut up…”

Her hand hooked around Yoongi’s head and she dragged him to her face by his hair. There was a flash of shared gaze and Jungkook saw it – desire clouded by sin, an insatiable hunger for pain – and he witnessed Yoongi moaning into her face, succumbing to her brutal kiss, her hips picking up the pace as they made contact, prompting him to suck harder and lick faster.

Close.

Jungkook could now barely see the angry red head of Yoongi’s cock slipping in and out of focus, a peripheral blur from that strong pale hand wrapped around it.

Close.

His legs shook, threatening to give up on him.

There.

His eyes shut tightly as her hips flinched and she snarled, vicious and guttural in her chest. Heady and sweet cum flooding his mouth, over his chin, stifled moan bubbling in his throat as he tipped his head down and hungrily lapped it all up, covering his nose with her orgasm. Thrusting his tongue into her throbbing, shivering hole. Swallowing as much as he could, and then he felt the sudden hot, dripping stream of thick semen painting his forehead, a streak of Yoongi’s scent painted onto him, and then another, dripping down her thigh and into Jungkook’s sweat-soaked hair.

It was so wrong.

It was heaven.

The ache in his core pulsated, devastatingly turned on by the defilement.

She got off him and now Jungkook could finally breathe, but his surroundings were a blur. The sudden oxygen flooding his brain left him out of touch with reality, still drunk on lust, pain, and near erotic asphyxiation. Wet. Warm. He melted in her hands as she licked off his face, hot tongue slurping off his hyung’s cum and leaving sloppy kisses along his temples. He trembled, teeming with past sensations. His body sore and sticky with various fluids, his and hers and his, and this was it, this was everything he wanted, fashioning his new self from his guilty, masochistic fantasies.

Feeling truly, blissfully, painfully alive.

Yoongi was breathing hard, holding something out to him.

A black leather collar with a silver chain wrapped around his hand.

“You want yours?”

Yes.

Yes, he did.

Jungkook reached out and grasped his collar tightly. Brain muddled. Body electrified from willfully inflicted agony and the voracious want for more. More. Those dark cat-like eyes narrowed. Deep voice dropping to a wary rasp.

“Careful, or the headspace will possess you and take over your life,” Yoongi warned.

Too late.

Too fucking late.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #yoonkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #yoonkook x reader #yoonkook x you #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #yoongi smut

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shinobus-unbreakable-spirit · 1 year

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How would Muzan, douma and akaza feel if their s/o was like ace in justice league? (from the royal flush gang) being cheated out of their childhood thanks to non-consensual testing and being made into a weapon... it can really mess someone up, you know?

Hmmm! I haven't ever seen Justice League, but I looked up Ace's wikia page and have familiarized myself with this concept. This is a really, really interesting ask, thanks!

So, the way I'm going to tackle this is by going through each of those three demons one by one and saying how they would feel and behave in this situation, where their S/O was tested on as a child and basically used for the purpose of destruction, not even allowed to be their own person.

I hope this is to your liking! :D

Muzan

From the moment Muzan found out about his S/O's childhood, he would remain calm and simply ask where those scientists are now. When his S/O tells him the whereabouts of the lab, he'd disappear in the blink of an eye, and return moments later, bloodied.

His S/O would be in shock; eyes wide, hardly able to process what's in front of them. Muzan would place a hand on their cheek, cold, but smooth like velvet, then utter: "The ones who caused you harm have been dealt with," he'd kiss them delicately on the forehead. "You are mine, and I won't let anyone harm what's mine."

Muzan would have a sense of possessiveness towards his partner and a love for them that meant he would dispense with anyone who harmed them, even if it was years ago or even if their partner told him not to. Simply put, he doesn't believe anyone who hurt what's his should walk this earth unpunished.

Douma

In a weird way, Douma would relate to his S/O in this situation. It's different, but he was robbed of his childhood as well; his parents made him the symbol of their cult starting from when he was a toddler, and thus, he could never be a normal kid. Therefore, he would be empathetic towards his S/O's past, and show a new side of himself.

Typically, Douma is playful and doesn't take life too seriously, but he would be more pensive as his S/O reveals their past, holding them close to his chest and looking down at them with a slight frown on his face. When they have told all, he would just be sad, saying how pathetic humans are to use one of their young as a weapon. He would kiss his S/O, then open up to them about his past as well; how he was used as the mascot for a cult, and how this affected him growing up, that he wasn't allowed to play with other children or do anything he wanted at all. He would say something like, "It seems we have more in common than either of us ever thought, my love."

However, in Douma fashion, he would find a playful silver lining to the situation which is that neither of them had a childhood, so they can make up for it now by never losing their inner-child. After all, they didn't get to be children before, so why not make up for it now? He would remain his playful self around his S/O, hoping that his childlike nature would continue to make up for lost time, even if just a little.

Akaza

Akaza is just about the most protective man alive, so upon finding out about his S/O's past, he would be furious. Initially, he would have the desire to track down and kill every single one of the people who had been responsible for putting his S/O through that. However, his S/O would be able to dissuade him by telling him that it's not worth it. He'd say something along the lines of: "You're right. heavy sigh I just... Can't bear to think of what you must be going through, I wish I could make it all go away."

His S/O is the love and light of his life, everything he does is in devotion to them. Thus, knowing what happened to them and not being able to do anything about it would eat him up inside. Akaza would always be a protective and doting partner, but I feel like after finding out about his S/O's past, he would become even more protective as he doesn't want them to hurt again. He would do his best to help his partner heal from their past, but without putting any unrealistic expectations on them to heal fully. He'll patiently be by their side the entire way through.

-----------------------------

This was an intriguing subject to write about! Thank you for this ask, and I hope you enjoyed it!

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league-of-legends-hcs · 9 months

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Hellooooo good night, afternoon or the time of day you read this, I would like to ask if you write Yone :')

And if you do... could you make an nsfw alphabet out of it? I don't think I've seen that about him around here and sometimes they forget that he has merged with a demon... So maybe there could be material there(? 👀

Small suggestion, have a nice day

-🍗

NSFW Alphabet - Yone

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

Yone is big on aftercare. Sometimes, he can be a little rough and lose control of himself when he is with his partner, the Azakana having corrupted him too far. But he always makes up for it. You never want for anything after a session with him.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

Somehow, I think Yone likes his partners neck the most. Something about putting his hand around that throat, squeezing the air out of you, watching you writhe.. That is right up his alley. On himself, he likes his hands most. He uses them to wield his blades after all.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

Usually, he likes to either come inside of you or in your mouth. There is not much use of his cum if it's going to waste in his opinion.

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

He's a bit of a voyeur when it comes to you and you only... so yes. He's watched you. And no. You haven't noticed.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

He does know. Before he was killed by his brother, I assume he hasn't had much time to experiment around, but he knows of it, knows what to do, and he will learn very quickly.

F= Favorite position

Yone loves doing it while standing up, preferably he likes to stand behind you, one hand either on your hips or at your core, the other playing around with your neck while he bites the skin, nibbling on it, whispering dirty things into your ears. Oh, how your legs shudder when he thrusts into you. It's so delightful.

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

Yone is pretty serious as it is. Sex is no different. He might smile at you or whisper sweet nothings when he's in a gentle mood, but he will definitely not be goofy.

H= Hair (grooming habits)

Well taken care of, I honestly don't know how Hair growth works when your body is fused with a lesser demons but uhm... I'm just gonna say he's not fully shaven but well groomed.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

That depends on his mood. And on how well he can control the Azakana in the heat of the moment. It might be that one night he is careful, gentle and passionate and the next he will fuck you like a man possessed (because well... he is)

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

He rarely ever masturbates. It's not something that has priority in his life.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

Asphyxiation, bondage, degradation (giving), edging, and possibly some sensory play

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

He likes to keep his private matters exactly there. In private. But if you grind his gears enough he might take you somewhere semi public and fuck the brat out of you.

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

Gentle touches on his bandaged arms, caresses and touches in general, and your sweet words. Oh and your snarky remarks.

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

Use his blades. Definitely not. No cutting, no slashing. No weapons. They are everywhere else in his life. Or mentioning his brother. That's a major turn off for him.

Blood is also a hard limit.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

Prefers receiving, he loves it when you gag on his cock... those tears welling up in your eyes..

He's good with his tongue as well, though. What he lacks in technique in the beginning he rapidly catches up on and after one or two times you will already be whimpering under his tongue.

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

Usually a faster pace, lasts incredibly long.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

Only when the mood strikes him. Or when you beg enough. He just can't withstand those slutty lips when they beg for him to fuck you.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

Sometimes. Nothing too dangerous, though, since he can't always tell how well he can control the beast within.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

Man can go at least 3 rounds before he gets fatigued, and without foreplay you got yourself 20-30 minutes per round.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

On you? Sure. On him? No.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

He's not much of a teaser, but once you start, he's game to play it out. Don't expect him to go easy on you, though.

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

Is not very loud. Some low grunts and moans is the most you'll hear from him. And yes, he talks. Dirty talk is essential for him. It makes you so much wetter after all.

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)

Try using his bandages to tie him up and see what happens 😈

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

Well endowed, 20 - 23cm (~9-10 inches), pretty thick and honestly quite beautiful looking if though a little pale.

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)

Average, I would say. It's not really that high, but if he's in the mood he'll be going on for a while.

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

No he doesn't. He rarely ever sleeps as is and seeing you in his arms.. he feels at peace nonetheless.

Whaddup! Thanks for the ask, anon! I didn't think about writing for Yone before but ay! Yone be a QT c:

#league of legends #ginga writes #yone league of legends #yone lol #yone smut #league of legends headcanons

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ssafloofyfoxx · 2 years

Text

GN! Biblically Accurate Angel (Jophiel) x Afab! Reader

Hello! This is just a quick drabble that I wrote up a few nights ago. I couldn't find many biblically accurate angel fics so here we are!

CW: NSFT, Teratophilia, oral, penetration, AFAB reader, biblically accurate angel, blaspheme, mentions of the Bible, nonhuman genitalia, mentions of ab*se, possessive language, slight d/s dynamic, dirty talk, light degradation. Let me know if I'm missing any!

WC: ~4200

---------

You sit at your desk, sighing heavily as your eyes flit across the pages before you. After hours of trying to keep your focus on your studies, your mind had begun to wander yet again. It always happened when you were forced to study scripture. You couldn’t help it, really. You know the Bible inside and out by now, so you weren’t sure why your mother was so intent on making you memorize every word. You’ve been studying the Word since you were five, and that was fifteen years ago. You’ve read every version of the Bible that you possibly could get ahold of.

But, the questions you asked about why angels were always depicted as beautiful made your mother mad. As did the questions about demons being depicted as ugly, twisted creatures. Popular culture and common depictions of these beings always contradicted the word of the Old Testament. God’s warriors were described as terrifying beings that a human mind couldn’t even begin to comprehend. And wouldn’t it make more sense for demons to be ethereally beautiful in order to lure you to sin?

These thoughts float around your head, knocking into every corner of your consciousness as you try your hardest to wrap your head around these concepts. It wasn’t easy, trying to convince your deeply religious mother that she had gotten the Bible completely wrong. You had even met the business end of her wooden spoon quite a few times for asking these questions after Sunday School.

Something moving just outside of your field of vision pulls your attention away from the worn pages in front of you. The movement was so quick, just a small flash of darkness in the corner of your dimly-lit room. You weren’t even sure you had actually seen it.

Playing it off as just a trick of tired eyes, you decide to call it a night. Punishments be damned, you need some sleep. Standing up from your desk, you head over to grab your rosary from your nightstand before kneeling beside your bed and closing your eyes. You began to recite the prayer of the rosary while closing your eyes, trying to keep your thoughts focused on the task at hand. But, again, as you try to focus, you can’t help but notice a feeling of being watched.

It’s been like that for a while now. And you dare not bring it up to your mother for fear of her calling in the priest for yet another exorcism. The last one she had called in was enough to keep you from talking about these feelings with her. But that didn’t mean it didn’t unsettle you.

After you finish reciting your prayers, you get yourself ready to sleep, opting to change into your favorite sleepwear: a pair of baggy basketball shorts and an oversized old t-shirt. You crawl into your bed after going about the rest of your routine, making sure to shut off all of the lights.

You always felt more comfortable in complete darkness. Your mother always said it was because you were trying to hide your sinful thoughts from God. But in all honesty, it just made you feel more at home.

As you were drifting off to sleep, you couldn’t help but ask one last question to God. Pondering if he could ever answer your questions about what angels truly look like. Pleading with him to show you just a little bit of proof that your understanding of His word was not wrong.

As the calming tendrils of sleep grip your speeding thoughts, you drift off into a deep slumber. You don’t know how much time goes by before you are awoken by a sudden bright light in your room. It could have been only minutes, or it could have been hours. Time all seems relative to your sleep-laden brain.

When your heavy eyelids manage to pry themselves open, you are met with a glowing figure in the corner of your room. Rubbing your eyes, you blink in surprise as something begins to slowly take form before you. A tall figure, lankly limbs complimenting a kindly face and long, stark-white hair. The eyes of the being before you are what truly catch your attention, though, the orbs looking like black opal set against the stark-white skin of their face.

“Wh-who are you,” you manage to croak out, sleep constricting your voice and dryness making it hard to speak. The being chuckles at your surprise, taking a single step towards you as you back up until your back hits your headboard. The chuckle reverberates through your mind, sounding like a chorus of a thousand voices melding into one, low rumble.

“You had asked your God to confirm your beliefs. I heard your calls and decided to answer. My name is Jophiel, the Angel of Knowledge.” Their voice once again floats through your head, filling your senses with something akin to a sedative. It is melodic, full, and sounds as if it is echoing off of the corners of your thoughts. You can’t help but lean forward, trying to get a better look at the ethereal beauty in front of you.

“I wanted to know if Angels were truly humanoid beings, or if they looked as the Old Testament described them. Fiery beings with 6 wings and eyes covering their entire body, or as wheels of eyes meant to be His chariot. But you look nearly human. Is that your true form, Jophiel?” As you ask this, you inch even closer to the tall figure, eyes scanning and scanning, trying to see if you could find an answer to your questions in the many details of the angel’s body.

Yet again, hearty laughter fills your thoughts. “As you wish, dear one. But do not be afraid of my true form. Some have been known to mistake us for demons.” You just nod at the soothing voice, your eyes now trained on those opalescent eyes. Before you could even register what was happening, the form of Jophiel begins to change. Where once a nearly-human figure was, now a much taller being stands. Six pearl-white wings are stretched out behind the large body.

And that body. Oh, that heavenly body is covered from head to toe in those dark opal eyes, all of them fixated on you. You can’t take your gaze off of them as the moonlight reflects off of the many colors that are refracted. And your thoughts begin to swim.

The first word that comes out of your mouth surprises even the all-knowing Angel of Knowledge. “Beautiful,” you mutter, standing up from the edge of your bed. You deftly walk towards the hulking figure, absentmindedly reaching out and running a finger along the shimmering feathers of one of the many wings the being holds.

As you stand there before the angel, your mind continues to wander. You can’t help but feel completely attracted to the form before you, a warm knot forming in the pit of your stomach. You know you shouldn’t be feeling like this towards a heavenly being, but you can’t help it. They are just so damned beautiful.

As you continue to run your fingers along the beautiful iridescent feathers, Jophiel clears their throat, chuckling softly. “I can hear your thoughts, little one. And my, what a vivid imagination you have,” they whisper, reaching out a long limb to cradle your head and make you look into their main set of eyes situated on their face. You can feel your cheeks begin to heat up as you are pulled from your treacherous thoughts.

“I-I’m sorry,” you begin to stammer out, unsure of what to do, but unable to look away from those captivating eyes. Their intense stare does nothing to quell the fire now burning in the pit of your stomach, spreading to each of your limbs and pooling between your legs. Damn you and your licentious thoughts. You are definitely going to hell for lusting after a Seraph.

At that thought, another chuckle reverberates through the large angel, causing your cheeks to redden even further. If that was even possible. “Oh dear,” they coo, drawing a claw across your cheek. “You really think it is a crime to sin for an angel? If humans don’t sin, then Jesus died for nothing,” they say, causing your heart to double its pace. You can practically feel it as it quickens, the blood rush causing a cacophony of echoes in your ears. This is so embarrassing, but oh so enticing.

Your throat feels dry as something akin to a smile spreads across your new companion’s face. Did they have a mouth before? You can’t remember, but you do know that you want to feel those lips against yours. After hearing that thought, the tall angel leans down, pressing a slow, soft kiss against your trembling lips. The sudden contact catches you off guard, a little whimper escaping your throat. Your reactions are just so precious, so adorable, that your angel can’t help but chuckle against, the sound coming from their throat instead of inside of your mind.

You melt in their large, clawed hands like butter, reaching out to take grasp of anything you can find purchase on. Your fingers dig into flesh, and you can feel their multiple eyelids flutter under your fingertips. Good gracious, even just that small kiss has you weak in the knees. Your thoughts are more lewd than ever, the feeling of electricity basically frying any rational thought you had left in that empty little brain of yours.

Jophiel pulls away, grinning widely at the pile of goo that you have become underneath their intense gaze. “You are so beautiful, love, it’s hard to hold myself back. It’s been a while since I’ve wanted to claim a human as my own. Of course, I do need permission first. So tell me, my dear, do I have your permission to make you my obedient little pet?” Their words are like a soft purr, causing your stomach to erupt in a stampede of butterflies. Not trusting yourself to speak, you simply nod your head. That is all that your angel needs, apparently, since within the blink of an eye you are scooped up in their large arms, pulled against their frame with their lips attacking yours. They are hungrier this time, and what you assume to be a tongue is licking at your bottom lip, impatiently asking for entrance. You blindly oblige, opening your lips and letting the strong muscle roam the inside of your warm mouth. The first thing that surprises you about Jophiel’s tongue is its size. It has to be at least as thick as your wrist!

The second thing that surprises you is what feels like a long row of bumps that run along either side of the large muscle. If you didn’t know any better, you would say that their tongue is completely covered in piercings from tip to base. And good God, it feels heavenly. You let out tiny whimpers, keeping enough of your wits about you to try to keep your noise down so as to not alert your mother.

After what feels like forever, Jophiel pulls away, leaving behind your swollen lips wanting for more. You whine at the loss of contact, causing your partner to chuckle at you. “My sweet, be patient. Tell me, which form would you rather I take you in? Of course, I can be whatever you want, and I can lay claim to your adorable little body in whichever way you wish. Just say the word and poof, your fantasies are my command.” You feel a shiver run down your spine and a bunch of debauched thoughts run through your mind.

But what you really want is for them to mark you as theirs while in their true form. Fill you up with whatever appendage angels truly have, be it their tongue, their unbelievably large fingers, or whatever appendage they wish to use. You just wish that this beauty would hurry up and fill up your needy holes with something.

You don’t even have to voice your thoughts and within an instant, you are set down gently onto your bed, legs being spread wide for all of those lovely eyes to peer at. The many eyes are boring into your soaking wet core even though your shorts still cover you completely, a low growl ripping through Jophiel’s chest. “My beautiful human, so thoroughly ready for me to fuck you. Spreading your pretty legs so that I can make you all mine. I can’t wait to taste you and feel you squirm all over for me.” Hearing such words from the lips of an angel causes your body to set aflame all over again with lust. Why is it so fucking hot in this room? Before you could even think of removing any of your clothing, though, you feel the cool sensation of Jophiel’s tongue sliding up your inner thigh.

You try to buck your hips at the foreign feeling, but one of their hands covers your entire torso, pressing you firmly to the mattress. Their tongue goes to work, sliding up and down your slick folds, eliciting downright sinful moans from those pretty lips of yours. Jophiel can tell that you are going to be such a fun little human to fully break and toy with. They stare at your face as they continue to tease your needy little hole, never once entering and only circling around your entrance while their free hand moves up to wrap around your throat. It doesn’t squeeze, just rests there, but the feeling of the claws against your jugular causes an unfamiliar jolt of lighting to pulse through your heated veins.

The best part of having an angel eat you out is them still being able to talk while their mouth is preoccupied. They continue to whisper dirty words in your mind as they slowly tease you. Your mind hazes over with lust, your eyes bouncing between all of theirs that are trained on your face. You can’t seem to look away from the divine being between your legs, fingers moving to find any type of purchase on their head. You are surprised to find a pair of thick, curved horns sitting at the top that you hadn’t noticed before. And even more surprised when a purr emits from their throat and they suddenly plunge their tongue inside of your weeping cunt when you grab hold of their horns.

“Go on baby,” they purr, voice reverberating through your empty mind as their tongue explored your depths. “Stroke my horns while I tongue-fuck your pretty little cunt. Make your angel feel good, precious,” they continue. Both of their large hands knead at your soft skin. You comply, clumsily sliding your hands up and down the rigid growths. You are rewarded with even deeper ministrations of your angel’s tongue, the tip finding that wonderful spot that makes your toes curl. They pump their tongue in and out of your greedy little hole while keeping the tip rubbing against that delicious spot deep inside.

This much pleasure quickly sent you over the edge. Sure, you’ve played with yourself before, but you’ve never actually reached an orgasm. So, your first rolled over you in waves. Jophiel didn’t even need to touch your pretty, swollen little clit, either. They groaned as your body spasmed around their tongue, but they didn’t stop. Instead, they continued tongue-fucking you, helping their precious little deviant ride out this mind-shattering orgasm. And what an honor it is to be the one to get you to that point.

When your body stops twitching and you are plastered in sweat, they slowed down, their hand moving to stroke your cheek adoringly. “You did so well, pet. Your cum tastes absolutely divine.” You can’t help but whimper at the praise, blushing brightly. And even if your thoughts are still reeling, you can’t help but wonder how long Jophiel will actually stay by your side. Another chuckle floats through your mind, causing you to blush even deeper.

“Oh, love, I’m going to completely ruin you tonight. I’m going to make you so addicted to me that no human will ever compare and you’ll crave nothing but my divine pleasure. My good little fucktoy is what you will be, love.” Their words are so dirty, so unholy that it works you up all over again. They can feel your juices working up around their tongue, causing another guttural groan to leave those lovely lips of theirs. But instead of impaling you with their tongue again, the withdrawal.

Slowly, their fingers hook into the hem of your shorts, pulling the loose garment off of your body and tossing them to the floor. And then your shirt follows, leaving you completely exposed and bare for your lovely angel to marvel at. Their fingers ghost over your body and you whimper at their touch, already needy for something to be fucking you. They stay kneeled before your bed, pulling your body down and throwing your legs over their broad shoulders. You’re now barely touching your bed, having to hold on to their horns to keep the strain off of your neck and shoulders. And without warning, their long, thick tongue probes at your cunt yet again. This time, while they delve deep into your slick folds, they pull you so close that you take so much more of tongue inside.

Your second orgasm comes much quicker, the new stimulation sending you over the edge in a matter of minutes. They let you ride out your high before pulling away from you, grinning and licking your juices from their face greedily. They set you down back onto the bed to let you catch your breath.

“Stroke me, baby, stroke my horns while I taste every single inch of your pretty little pussy,” they demand, and you follow along. Your fingers are wrapped around the large growths and you softly stroke the smooth surfaces from tip to base. As a reward for your ministrations, Jophiel moves their thumb to deftly play with your swollen little clit. It sends a whole new sensation through your body that has you throwing your head back and basically howling with pleasure. You can't even be assed to think about your mother sleeping in the room next door. Thankfully, Jophiel made it so that she can't even hear you.

You are panting at this point, grinding as hard as you can against Jophiel’s face. It feels so good that your mind goes completely blank. You can only think of their studded, strong tongue quickly fucking you and their rough thumb toying with your sensitive bud.

And once you do, you shyly look at them, whimpering. “I… I want to make you feel good too, Jophiel. Pl-please teach me how to pleasure you,” you whisper, moving to sit up and place a trembling hand on the side of their face. A deep purr bubbles from their chest.

“Very well, love. Tell me, do you want to try and pleasure a pretty pussy like your own or do you want to learn how to take my holy cock down your throat, baby?” They coo at you as you run the options through your head. You can’t decide which you would rather do, honestly, so you give a tentative “both,” causing an even deeper purr to resound from your godly lover. Without warning, they stand up and move over to the chair that sits by your desk, sitting down and spreading their legs for you.

In front of you, their body contorts and you can see a large slit open up between their legs at the same time as an unbelievably large rod grows from where a clit should be. The sight of it causes your mind to go crazy. It’s just so fucking hot. You move over, immediately kneeling between Jophiel’s legs and looking up with hopeful eyes. The angel gently begins to teach you how to please them with both your hands and your mouth, and you quickly pick up on both ways.

You continue to switch between two configurations of pleasing your lover. One of them being with your swollen lips wrapped around the head of their lovely cock and swirling your tongue around the sensitive ridge and then your fingers pumping in and out of their slippery wet cunt. The other is with your hand pumping their large member and letting your tongue and fingers explore their dripping folds together. They coo encouragement, egging you and encouraging you to hump yourself against their foot to try and get off while you please them.

Soon, they grow even needier, as do you. And you want something to fill you up. Reading that thought, they gently pull your lips off of their cock and lean down, giving you soft little kisses. They then pick you up and stand up, heading back over to your bed. You are laid down on your back, lips never leaving yours. You hump the air, trying to get some friction between your legs, causing a deep chuckle to rumble through your lover’s chest.

Your angel soon pushes the large tip of their monstrously-shaped cock against your entrance, testing out to see just how wet you were. And if you’d need a little extra help fitting it inside of you. They decide that your pussy is plenty wet enough to safely slide inside, and so they do. The tapered tip spreads your hole apart deliciously, causing you to take in a sharp breath of air. But they’ve barely even got the head inside when your body begins to tremble from the pleasure. They take it slow, speaking sweet praises into your swirling thoughts and slowly coaxing your body to relax.

Once you are fully relaxed, they are able to slip their entire cock inside of you, stretching you out so much that it stings at first. You can feel every ridge and bump that is on their thick member. Jophiel keeps their hips deathly still as your legs slowly wrap around their waist. Sooner rather than later, you are begging for them to start moving, wanting the friction of their ridges scraping your walls.

As Jophiel slowly begins to pull their cock out and push it back into your pretty little cunt, their hands roam your body, settling on your breasts. Deft fingers work over your nipples as a warm mouth begins to kiss from your jawline down to your neck. With enough patience, they soon get you comfortable enough to the point that they can begin to fuck you faster. Sharp, pointed teeth scrape your sensitive skin, sending even more waves of pleasure through your veins. Everything is overstimulating, but it feels too damned good to stop. The feeling of his balls slapping against your ass, his teeth sinking into your skin, his one hand moving to toy with your clit and the other continuing to toy with your nipples. You move to brush your fingers against the anchor joints of their first pair of wings, earning you a needy moan from your partner. Their movements get faster as they struggle to contain themself, wanting nothing more than to pound you into this bed and leave you a quivering, mess, your mind broken and needing for their holy cock.

The two of you pleasure each other and orgasm after orgasm racks your body. You have no thoughts at this point, only focusing on the lovely pleasure that courses through your veins. And the words coming from Jophiel push you towards yet another orgasm.

“Oh Lord, you are downright sinful, love. Your cunt feels so delicious, hugging my cock and sucking me in. You just love being fucked in front of the eyes of the Lord, don’t you, you sinful little whore? Such a good little whore, taking my holy cock so well. Coming for me just like a good little pet. I’m so close, love. Come with me, I want to feel your cum mix with mine. I want to fill your quivering little cunt with my seed and burn your body with the memory of my blessing.” As Jophiel continues to fuck themself into you, you can feel their words drive you over the edge, and they let out a low groan into your ear.

“Such a good little whore, your pussy quivering around me. Goodness, I’m coming, love. Your hot, tight cunt is gripping me so hard that it’s milking every last drop of my cum. Don’t you love feeling me fill you up, love?” They talk to you as they start to shoot their hot load deep inside of your convulsing walls. The sticky, hot liquid causes your head to reel. And Jophiel doesn’t stop fucking you. Oh no, they have enough stamina to keep going all night long.

And that is exactly what they do, fucking your puffy little pussy until the first light of day breaks over the horizon. By then, you are both so thoroughly tired that Jophiel collapses on your bed beside you. They keep their cock inside of you, plugging up their several loads while you cuddle into their large, hot body. Most of the eyes had gone away to accomodate your touch, but the wings stayed, wrapping around the two of you and protecting you as you slept. Your body fit perfectly against theirs, your face tucked into the crook of their alabaster-white neck.

You are now a Seraph’s partner. Their mate. And this is only the beginning of your life of debauchery together.

#monster #monster x reader #monster x human #biblically accurate angel #angel x human #angel x reader #biblically accurate angel x human #biblically accurate angel x reader #monster lover #terato #writing

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kira-fluff · 2 years

Note

OBEY ME OMG YOU WRITE FOR OBEY ME CAN U PLS WRITE THE 7 BROS REACTING TO YOU LISTENING AND SINGING “TALK DIRTY TO ME” BY JASON D BUT LIKE YOU SING IT ALL INNOCENTLY AHHHHH TYYY

a/n: these lyrics made me laugh my ass off because LUCIFER'S EXPRESSION ALONE-- i-- THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS LMFAOOOOOOO tw: extremely raunchy lyrics lmao (not censored bc oh well), cursing, extremely suggestive (srsly not me being horny on main), minors dni, nsfw

reacting to you singing an inappropriate song innocently - obey me! brothers x reader

you were minding your own business, jamming to a song that was an absolute bop, "talk dirty to me" by the one and only jason d. you honestly forgot how...well.. bold the lyrics were as you sang along, completely unaware that someone was listening.

lucifer "Dos Cadenas, close to genius Sold out arenas, you can suck my penis"

LMFAO

the way his eyebrows SHOT UP to his hairline

eyes comically wide

makes burning eye contact with you

readjusts his position in his seat to accommodate his erection

can't help the smirk that creeps up his mouth

how can you be so innocent while being so dirty at the same time?

he'll just rest his chin on his wrist, watching you

he'll wait for you to finish your mini-concert, of course

he's a gentleman after all

he may not be one after your eyes finally flit up to his though

realization spreading across your face as you let out a little giggle, apologizing that you forgot what song was playing

"be careful who you sing those songs around. not everyone will be able to hold back as well as me."

mammon "Gilbert Arenas, guns on deck (deck) Chest to chest, tongue on neck (neck) International oral sex"

turns BRIGHT RED.

coughs into his hand in an attempt to make you realize he's still here

can't stop himself from gazing at your lips

imagine them around his cock

like, come on now

he's still a demon

so anyone that says he's a pure, innocent bean could not be more wrong

this dude is canonically VERY dirty-minded

his eyes pool with want as he looks at you, completely unaware of what you're doing to him

his expression is so strained and tortured

if you ask him about it, though, he'll deny it to his grave

high-key possessive of this side of you lol

"i dunno what yer talkin' about, human! d-don't be singin' those around anyone else, got it?!"

leviathan "All I really need to understand is (uh-huh) When you, you talk dirty to me"

nosebleed.

as soon as you began singing the song he was entranced by the way your lips sounded out each syllable

you weren't even try but it was sensual asf

help this poor man omfg

covers his whole face, not only trying to stop the bleeding, but also because his face is so, incredibly flushed

your eyes snap up to his and you tilt your head in confusion

fuck

aaaand now he's hard.

concern sweeps over your face as you move closer to him, taking his face in your hands

you attempt to stop the bleeding from his nose but it doesn't show any sign of stopping

that is, of course, primarily due to the fact that you're currently straddling him

let be honest, though, while you weren't trying to be dirty singing the song, you hid the smirk that so desperately wanted to envelop your mouth as you sat on top of him

you'd just lightly brush your center against his bulge and he's already gasping and moaning

"s-stop... you're not playing fair, y/n..."

satan "Met a friend in Rio (Dos) She was all on me, oh (Tres) We could ménage à three, oh"

swears you're doing it on purpose.

he'll glare at you at first, eyeing you for any indications of mischief

after he examines you and sees no indications that you're trying to rile him up, he's intrigued

crosses his arms, planning on waiting until the end of the song

but then you sing those lyrics

and he lets out a frustrated groan, taking the bridge of his nose between his fingers

he's shaking his head in disbelief

how can you be this oblivious?

he keeps crossing and uncrossing his legs because his pants are getting more and more uncomfortable by the minute

when you finally look up at him you smile innocently, waving to him

you frown when all you receive is his suffering expression and the shake of his head

"sometimes you're so unaware it makes me wonder how you've survived this long.."

asmodeus "You know the words to my songs, no habla inglés (oh) Our conversations ain't long But you know what it is"

"oh you like this song, too?"

not fazed at all

forgot the lyrics were "inappropriate" honestly

probably will sing along with you in his off-key voice (you can't convince me this boy can sing)

he won't pass up the chance to offer some unsolicited sexual invitations to you, though

when you raise an eyebrow, confused, it dawns on him

you weren't even trying to start anything and here he was already ready to go down on you

he laughs his airy laugh

will probably suggest the two of you make a music video of it

"it would be even more fun if we shot it with our clothes off <3"

why would you sing this song by him lmfao

he might be semi-joking but his lustful eyes never leave yours

"maybe we can act out song of the songs suggestions later, ok?"

beelzebub "Her pussy so good I bought her a pet Got her saved in my phone under 'Big Booty' Anyway, every day I'm tryna get to it Got her saved in my phone under 'Big Booty'"

gulps. and not because he's hungry.

well, for food, that is.

low-key disturbed at how turned on he his

rubs his stomach in surprise, because this isn't the sort of hunger he's used to

can't even be around you while you sing it

he literally will sprint to the gym and lift like 2000 lbs to try to think about something else other than your ass

his thoughts are pure sin (i mean, he is a demon after all)

what would you taste like?

winces at his own thoughts

when you find him later and ask him what was wrong, he can barely look you in the eye without feeling shame

his ears still get a little red thinking about it even now

he tries so hard to be a good guy awe

"you make me feel a sort of hunger i haven't felt before... it's strange."

belphagor "I'm that flight that you get on, international First class seat on my lap, girl, riding comfortable, ha (oh yeah)"

funnily enough, your lap has never looked like a better pillow.

your thighs are so plush and soft

perfect for his head to rest on

or his face to sit in between

all suggestions, of course

that he keeps in his head

you notice him staring, but his eyes are no where near yours

instead, they're staring at the little shadow of fabic below your skirt

what can you expect? demons don't take classes on manners

when he realizes you caught him staring, he'll look away, his cheeks tinted a shade of pink

call him out on it, his reaction will be hilarious

if your expression is accompanied by a smirk, all the better

who's so smug now?

"you sure do have the 'innocent act' down to a tee. don't try that again with me or you'll have to take responsibility for what happens next."

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friendly-neighbourhood-spiderm4n · 2 years

Note

Yesssss thanks for responding to my questions! Could u do headcannons for a Will Byers x Big! Scary! Himbo! Male reader?( So, basically the reader looks like he could kill you in a heartbeat and everyone’s afraid of him, but he’s actually just a sweet, shy, dumb puppy and If you can could you add that he has demon powers that turn him into a gigantic demon, horns, sharp teeth, 7’5, all that jazz kind of like hulk powers?) If you could do even some it would be Fantastic! I love your writing and no one writes for Will, even though he’s obviously 💅. Plz? 🥺Sorry this is a long request! Here’s a reward cookie if you read it all 🍪

A/N - I was smiling the whole time I read this, I love this, it’s so cute!!

>Will finds it awkward yet kinda funny standing next to you. He is this regular 80’s teenager while you are scarier and far more intimidating then Billy.

>But then, he also loves to see you be soft and dumb, cause bro, he loves it, and low key needs wants it.

>If he ever roped you into playing D&D with him, he is always reminding of the rules, cause let’s be honest, they are hard to remember.

>If any of his friends make fun of you, he defends you. If any of his friends make fun of him (whether they are joking or not is another matter.), you just have to stare them in the eyes and they’ll with probably piss they’re pants.

>Joyce 100% knows. Mainly cause she was the one who encouraged him to ask you out.

>Adding to that, Will confessed, I’m sorry, but you is too dumb to realise or even slightly catch onto Will’s MASSIVE crush on you.

>I imagined you found out about the whole upside down around after star court mall cause he was moving, and needed to tell you.

>That’s also when he confessed to you.<3

>And then on Christmas break, he found out about your secret. Probably cause you guys went on a walk at night and some guy tried to attack you’s. You only showed you horns, your very sharp teeth and that terrifying stare that didn’t match your personality.

>Honestly, your parent/Guardian had to drill it into your head that intimidation was one of the very few ways to avoid serious problems.

>He freaked out. Poor boy had horrible flashbacks to when the Mind Flayer possessed him. He looked at you afraid, and you thought he was scared of you.

>You definitely started trying explain yourself and almost suffocated yourself cause you hadn’t stop talking for 5 minutes straight (which neither of you are.💅)

>It naturally took him some time (a week or so) to fully get the idea into his head that he was dating a demon boy.

>I feel like you would also visit him in Cali every 3 weeks for the weekend just it makes you sad to be away from him.

>If you have insomnia, he will play with your hair, your head in his lap, curled up in one of his shirts he wore as Pajamas. Probably almost falling asleep too.

>Just cause you have the hulk powers basically, he calls you ‘Smashable’.

>El knows you two are 2 gays and finds it nice that Will is happy.

>Johnathan was wary of you at first, then warmed up to you when he found you both passed out, surrounded by chocolate and fizzy drinks and sugar galore, holding each other while grease is playing on the TV.

>Jonathan still scolded the both of you for all the sugar, and for being up past 1:00am

>After that tho, he's feels more calm about you.

>When you're at you full height, he likes to play hide n' seek. He knows you kinda suck at it.

>If you ever have your horns out, and you do something bad, he'll grab you by the horn and drag you down to eye level before proceeding to tell you off.

>He definitely has painted you, whether that be looking like a regular human and a demon. (The demon ones are strictly hidden around his place to not alert his family, he doesn't to worry them, they've been through to much)

>He honestly still doesn't know if you can swim, despite living in Cali and having access to several.

>When it comes to sleeping, boy is always sleeping on you. You're the big spoon unless he wants to help you fall asleep cause of your insomnia.

>Joyce loves to have you over. Your a great help to all her kids and even herself. It makes her happy to see Will is happy with someone who really loves him.<3

#stranger things #will byers #will byers x reader #will byers x male reader

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magic-hcs · 1 year

Note

For Papyrus Sky, Syrup and Mastiff with S/O (She/Her) who wears cute pastel clothes and has a sweet, kind and ambivert personality <3

I couldn’t help it, I read this ask and saw mastiff and I got so inspired it was like I became possessed by a writing demon. Anyways, I hope you will like it!

Syrup: US Paps

Sky: US Sans

Mastiff: SF Paps

Warnings: female! S/O

Time to cast some magic and see what we’ll get!✨

✨✨

Papyrus: Papyrus firmly believes that the pastel colors is just the theme you go with. Like how his theme is red and orange. Papyrus will often associate pastel colors with you, so if he happens to stumble upon pastel colored clothes, fabric and objects there’s a high chance he will think of you and take a picture of it to send it to you.

Something like this with a random object:

‘I came across some pretty looking things and It made me think of you!’

Like this with clothes:

‘Look at this! Wouldn’t this look adorable on you? Want me to buy it for you?’

Can I say that this sweet boy loves to play with your hair? Because he does, *a lot*. And he’s quite handy with those hands of his too. He can make all kinds of difficult and complicated braids with pastel colored lints. If you let him, he would decorate your hair and lints with matching flowers.

You help Papyrus see that relaxing and doing something small inside can be fun too. But then again, you make almost anything way more fun when he’s doing it with you. He loves to take you out on all kinds of adventures, in both the city and in nature, it’s never boring with him around.

✨✨

Syrup: You definitely drag Syrup out of the house more times than Sky is able to. Just because of the fact that Syrup adores you, and he’s clingy, and wants to spend time with you no matter where you go. He loves it that you sometimes just want to stay at home and bask in each other's presence as you do your own things. Because sometimes Syrup has these ‘not so social’ days and it’s nice that he can still spend time with you without having to talk or anything.

Syrup absolutely adores your pastel colored clothes. They’re so pretty and cute and he swears that you seem to glow. He just has this urge to swoop you up and hold you against his chest as his limbs cage you. If you’re open to it, he would call you adorable nicknames like ‘sweetpuff’, ‘baby blue’ (if you’re wearing pastel blue clothes) ‘my fairy’, or ‘princess’. Oh boy, if you return the sweet nicknames and words. He’ll be like a turtle hiding his head in his hoodie. Trying to hide his face. His freckles almost completely camouflaged with the beautiful, deep orange flush covering his cheeks and nose ridge.

✨✨

Sky: It was a funny coincidence that you two met. Sky had accidentally bumped into you when he was grabbing his peppermint tea on his break from work. And your soft colored clothes and kind personality immediately stands out to him. You two end up talking and one thing leads to another and you two end up becoming good friends.

Sky would love to go out shopping with you and put together all kinds of pretty outfits for you. If you indulge him by putting together matching outfits for the both of you, Sky will vibrate on the spot.

Once you two are dating Sky will want to show you off to his friends and family and possibly his D&D party members (if you’re up to that is, slow him down a bit, he can be a bit much sometimes.) Sky adores you with all his soul and he will shower you in affection and love, (again if he overdoes it, slow him down a little, state your boundaries.) When you are in those moods where you don’t want to go outside or socialize, Sky will just enjoy your company, each doing their own things in silence. Tell him if you need some time alone.

✨✨

Mastiff: Mastiff has seen you a few times in the crowds and everytime you catch his eye. Standing out like a sore thumb with those light colored clothes you wear, and that sweet smile on your face. The first time he saw you was at a bar. He was sitting at the counter waiting for his drink and food. Having needed to get some fresh air and space from Razzle’s motherhenning. He noticed you appearing next to him, ordering your own drink and maybe food - Mastiff isn’t really paying attention to what you’re ordering - and has to do a double take. You’re practically glowing an aura of softness with the pastel theme you had going on and the cute clothes covering your body.

It was something Mastiff has seldom if not ever seen before. Especially since it was such a big contrast to the nature of his world. He’s suspicious and doubts this could be genuine. He ignores you for the most of the night, sparing you only brief subtle glances. He doesn’t think much of it anymore once he leaves. Thinking he won’t see you again. But then, not even a few months later, he spots you again in the comic book store he and Coal frequent at. And then again, a few weeks later at that same bar, and then again on the street, and then again and again and again. He keeps bumping into you and it’s becoming impossible to just ignore you. You’re fascinating and he wants to find out who you are.

Eventually, after a long while, you guys end up as sort of friends? Mastiff hangs out with you and stuff but it’s evident that he keeps you at an arm’s length, he’s unsure what to expect to be honest. Were you keeping up an act to seem vulnerable? Did you gain something from being so…irresistibly sweet? Or were you truly genuine? You drew Mastiff in, he wanted to figure you out. And without noticing it he got struck by an arrow of Cupid.

And let’s be real here: This boy will deny and ignore any feelings he has that are too complicated for him to handle until Coal corners him and forces him to admit it. And even when he admits it, he’s not going to act on it except for more obvious flirting and a bit of possessiveness. So no way is he gonna be the one to confess first.

As a couple, Mastiff just loves your softness. He loves how you wear such bright colors, completely contrasting with his own darker colors. He loves that despite how the world could be so cruel, yet you choose to be kind. You choose to not let it warp your views like he did. He wants to protect your kindness, your happiness, everything that makes you undoubtedly, irresistibly you.

✨✨

Thank you for participating in this spell, I hope it was to your satisfaction!

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layce2015 · 1 year

Text

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

In My Time Of Dying

Previous Chapter / Masterlist / Next Chapter

*3rd Person POV*

Bad Moon Rising was playing on the radio of the Impala as the demon-possessed-truck-driver steps out of his truck and walks over to the car. John, Dean and (y/n) were unconscious but Sam, on the other hand, swallows as he starts to wake up. The demon pulls the driver's side door off its hinges to reveal Sam pointing the colt at him.

"Back. Or I'll kill you, I swear to God." Sam threatens. "You won't. You're saving that bullet for someone else." The demon said and Sam cocks the gun. "You wanna bet?" Sam asked in a threatening tone. The demon smiles and then the black demon-cloud pours out of the man, who collapses. Sam uncocks the gun, drops his head back in relief.

"Oh my God!" The man said, in a panic, as he looks at the scene before him. "Dad?" Sam said but he looks over to see John was not moving.

"Did I do this?" The man asked. "Dad! Dean? (Y/n)? Guys!?" Sam shouts, frantically.

As the sun rises, a rescue helicopter descends to the site, and all four people were loaded onto stretchers. John, Dean and (y/n) are still unconscious, but Sam was awake. "Tell me if they're okay!" Sam shouts at the paramedic as he looks over at the three people he cares about the most being loaded up into the ambulances.

"You have to stay still!" The female paramedic instructs him. "Are they even alive?" He asked but they don't respond as they load him up and take him and the others to the hospital.

Meanwhile, in one of the ambulances, (y/n) starts to open her eyes but her vision was so blurry she couldn't tell where she was but she could see a figure of a person. "D...D...De..Dea.." she mutters, groggily, as she starts to move then one of the paramedics turns to her. "Miss, you need to stay still." The paramedic said. "Wh-What...happened?" (Y/n) asked, weakly, her head feeling foggy. "You were in a car accident..." the paramedic said and this makes (y/n)'s eyes open wider and her mind clearer.

"What?! T-The men I w-was with...a-are they okay?" She asked, in a panic. "Ma'am, you need to calm down." The paramedic said and (y/n) leans her head back and tears started to pour out of her eyes.

Dean, wearing a white t-shirt and blue hospital pants, sits up in a panic then works his jaw and gets out of bed and goes into the hallway. "Sam? (Y/n)? Dad? Anybody?" He calls out. Then he goes down the stairs to the front of the hospital and finds a nurse's station. "Excuse me. Hi. I, uh, I think I was in a car accident, my dad, my brother and my friend, I just need to find them." Dean said to her but she was unresponsive

"Hello?" He said then he snaps his fingers but she acts like he's not there. He goes back upstairs, panicked, and sees his own body on the bed, intubated and dying. He stares at it in shock then he turns around to see Sam and (y/n) enter the room. The two stop at the door and stare at Dean's body, breathing heavily. Both of them looked battered and bruised, but other than they were fine and walking.

"Sammy! (Y/n)! You guys look good. Considering." Dean said, relieved. "Oh, no." Sam whispers as he stares at Dean's body and (y/n) begins to sob. "Man, tell me you guys can hear me." Dean pleads but the two don't respond to him. "How's dad? Is he okay?" Dean asked but no response, once again.

"Come on, you two are the psychics. Give me some ghost whispering or something!" Dean said just as the Doctor comes into the room

"Your father is awake. You can go see him if you like." The doctor said to Sam. "Thank God." Dean said, relieved. "Doc, what about my brother?" Sam asked the Doctor. "Well, he sustained serious injury: blood loss, contusions to his liver and kidney. But it's the head trauma I'm worried about. There's early signs of cerebral edema." The doctor explained.

"Well, what can we do?" (Y/n) asked him. "Well, we won't know his full condition until he wakes up. If he wakes up." said the doctor.

"If?" Sam and (y/n) asked, raising their eyebrow.

"I have to be honest —" The doctor started to say while Dean shouts. "Oh, screw you, Doc, I'm waking up." He yells. "Most people with this degree of injury wouldn't have survived this long. He's fighting very hard. But you need to have realistic expectations." The doctor explains to the two.

"Come on, guys. Go find some hoodoo priest to lay some mojo on me. Guys?" Dean pleads as Sam and (y/n) stare at Dean for a moment then they leave the room.

John was lying in a hospital bed, his arm in a sling. Awkwardly one-handed, he pulls a card out of his wallet. "Here. Give them my insurance." John said as Sam takes the card, smiling as he reads it. "Elroy McGillicutty?" Sam said. "And his two loving sons." John said then he looks over at (y/n). "What about you, (y/n)? You covered?" He asked and she nods as she pulls out an insurance card. "Yes, sir." She said then she puts away the card.

"So, what else did the doctor say about Dean?" John asked. "Nothing. Look. The doctors won't do anything, then we'll have to, that's all. I don't know, (y/n) and I'll find some hoodoo priest and lay some mojo on him." Sam said to John, who looks at him in disbelief.

"We'll look for someone." John said. "Yeah." Sam and (y/n) said. "But kids, I don't know if we're gonna find anyone." John said.

"Why not? I found that faith healer before." Sam said to him. "All right, that was, that was one in a million." John said and (y/n) sighs at this.

"So what? Do we just sit here with our thumbs up our ass?" She asked him, annoyed. "No, I said we'd look. All right? I'll check under every stone." John said then he let's out a sigh then looks up at the two.

"Where's the Colt?" He asked. Sam and (y/n) give him a look of shocked disbelief. "Your son is dying, and you're worried about the Colt?" (Y/n) asked him, angrily. "We're hunting this demon, and maybe it's hunting us too. That gun may be our only card." John said to her, angrily, and Sam sighs. "It's in the trunk. They dragged the car to a yard off of I-83." He said.

"All right. You've gotta clean out that trunk before some junk man sees what's inside." John said to them. "We already called Bobby. He's like an hour out, he's gonna tow the Impala back to his place." (Y/n) said. "All right. You two go meet up with Bobby. Both of you get that Colt, and bring it back to me. And watch out for hospital security." John said and the two young adults nod.

"I think we've got it covered." Sam said and they get up and start to leave, but John said. "Hey. Here." They turn and see him pulling out a piece of paper. "I made a list of things I need, have Bobby pick them up for me." He said as Sam takes the paper and reads it.

"Acacia? Oil of Abramelin? What's this stuff for?" He asked his dad. "Protection." John replied. "Hey, Dad? You know, the demon, he said he had plans for me, (y/n) and children like us. Do you have any idea what he meant by that?" Sam asked him. "No, I don't." John replied. (Y/n) raises an eyebrow at him but her and Sam leave, shutting the door.

Dean, who had been leaning behind the door, stares at his dad in suspicion. "Well, you sure know something." He said as John was looking down, in somewhat despair.

At Bobby's place, Sam and (y/n) look down at the mangled Impala, Bobby standing near them. "Oh man, Dean is gonna be pissed." Sam said. "If his head doesn't explode first." (Y/n) jokes and Sam let's out a playful scoff as he shakes his head.

"Look, kids. This...this just ain't worth a tow. I say we empty the trunk, sell the rest for scrap." Bobby said but Sam shakes his head. "No. Dean would kill me if we did that. When he gets better he's gonna want to fix this." Sam said and Bobby looks at the car. "There's nothing to fix. The frame's a pretzel, and the engine's ruined. There's barely any parts worth salvaging." Bobby said.

"Listen to me, Bobby. If there's only one working part, that's enough. We're not just going to give up on..." Sam said to him but he stops as he swallows and (y/n) places a hand on his shoulder. "Okay. You got it." Bobby said to Sam, quietly.

"Oh...Here, uh, John asked for you to get this stuff for him." (Y/n) said as she hands the paper, which Sam gave to her so she could look it over, to Bobby. He looks at it, frowning.

"What's John want with this?" He asked. "Protection from the demon?" Sam said, shrugging, but Bobby gives the two a look.

"What?" Sam and (y/n) asked.

"Oh, nothing, it's just, uh..." Bobby stammers but (y/n) walks up to him.

"Bobby? What's going on?" She asked him, firmly.

Back at the hospital, John was sitting by Dean's bed; while Dean's spirit was standing nearby. "Come on, Dad. You've gotta help me. I've gotta get better, I've gotta get back in there. I mean, you haven't called a soul for help. You haven't even tried. Aren't you going to do anything? Aren't you even going to say anything?" Dean asked, angrily, as he starts walking around the bed. "I've done everything you have ever asked me. Everything. I have given everything I've ever had. And you're just going to sit there and you're going to watch me die? I mean, what the hell kind of father are you?" He asked, angrily.

But he pauses once he heard something. "What is that?" Dean said and he goes into the hallway just as a spirit whooshes past him. He jumps back then turns to John. "I take it you didn't see that." He said before he stalks the spirit down the hallways.

He sees it go into a back hallway where a woman is lying on the floor, choking. "Help! Help!" The woman pleads and Dean Dean around. "Hey! I need some help in here!" He shouts but no one responds. "I can't...breathe!" She pants loudly, trying desperately to breathe, then goes silent. Dean leans over her then looks around, helplessly.

Sam and (y/n) stalk into the room with a duffel bag in Sam's hand; Dean meets them at the door and starts trying to talk to them. "Sammy! (Y/n)! Tell me you guys can friggin' hear me, man, there's something in the hospital. Now, you two have got to bring me back and we've got to hunt this thing. Sam! (Y/n)!" He shouts but they don't say anything.

"You two are quiet." John said. Sam and (y/n) turn, both of them fuming, and Sam hurls the bag onto the bed with a crash. "Did you think we wouldn't find out?" Sam asked, through clenched teeth.

"What are you talking about?" John asked. "That stuff from Bobby, you don't use it to ward off a demon, you use it to summon one." (Y/n) said, firmly, and John looks between the two. "You're planning on bringing the demon here, aren't you? Having some stupid macho showdown?!" Sam asked him, angrily.

"I have a plan, guys." John said. "That's exactly my point! Dean is dying, and you have a plan! You know what, you care more about killing this demon than you do saving your own son!" Sam shouts at John.

"No, no, no, guys, don't do this!" Dean said over Sam shouting at John. "Do not tell me how I feel! I am doing this for Dean." John shouts. "How? How is revenge going to help him?" (Y/n) asked, angrily. "You're not thinking about anybody but yourself, it's the same selfish obsession!" Sam spat.

"Come on guys, don't do this!" Dean said to them.

"You know, it's funny, I thought it was your obsession too! This demon killed your mother, killed your girlfriend. And (y/n), it told you it killed both of your parents. And you, Sam, begged me to be part of this hunt. Now if you'd killed that damn thing when you had the chance, none of this would have happened." John yells. "It was possessing you, Dad, I would have killed you too." Sam argues.

"Yeah, and your brother would be awake right now." John growls and Sam looks at him, shocked but also angry. "Don't you dare put that on him!" (Y/n) growled at John.

"Shut up, all of you!" Dean shouts.

"Go to hell." Sam spat at his dad. "I should have never taken you along in the first place. I knew it was a mistake, I knew I was wrong —" John said, angrily.

"I said SHUT UP!" Dean screams as he smacks a glass of water off the table and it goes flying, crashing to the floor. Sam, (y/n) and John look at each other, confused, while Dean looks stunned.

"Dude, I full-on Swayze'd that mother." Dean said but then he crumples in pain, flickering.

Nurses and doctors start running by in the hallway. "What is it?" Dean asked as the three look out the door. "Something's going on out there." John said then he jerks his head to the two and they run out of the room.

Monitors were beeping as a doctor and some nurses were surrounding Dean, resuscitating him. "All clear." The doctor said while Sam and (y/n) enter the room. "No." Sam whispers in tears. "Dean, no." (Y/n) cries, softly, as she puts her hands over her mouth while the tears pour down her cheeks.

"Still no pulse." The nurse said. "Okay, let's go again, 360." The doctor said. "Charging." The nurse said as they charge the machine. Dean comes up slowly behind Sam and (y/n) just as she clings onto Sam, who holds her to his side.

Dean sees a ghostly figure floating over his body lying in the bed. "You get the hell away from me." Dean yells as he runs to the bed and faces the thing down, yelling. "I said get back!" He shouts while (y/n) blinks and looks around, confused, as if she's heard something. She looks up at Sam, who didn't seemed to notice.

Dean grabs for the spirit; he latches on momentarily before it hurls him back and then soars out of the room. The monitors then go slow and quiet. "We have a pulse. We're back into sinus rhythm." The nurse said as Sam sighs in relief and (y/n) let's out a small sigh and hiccups. The two hug each other for a few more minutes as Dean runs into the hallway, looking for the spirit but it had vanished.

Sam and (y/n) pull out of the embrace and walk into the hallway as Dean comes back and stands by them. "Don't worry, guys. I'm not going anywhere. I'm getting that thing before it gets me. It's some kind of spirit, but I could grab it. And if I can grab it, I can kill it." Dean said while (y/n) and Sam look around to where Dean was, confused.

The two couldn't explain it but it was almost like they felt a familiar presence around them. "You felt that, right?" (Y/n) asked Sam. He nods and they start to make they're way to John's room.

Dean wanders the halls, then hears a girl yelling. "Can't you see me? Why won't you look at me?" The girl's voice asked in a panic. "Now what?" Dean asked himself as he goes towards the front and see the girl running around the lobby of the hospital.

"Somebody talk to me! Say something, please!" She pleads. "Can you see me?" Dean asked her and she looks up at him. "Yeah." She said as he walks up to her. "All right, just, uh, calm down. What's your name?" He asked her.

"Tessa." She replied. "Okay, good, Tessa, I'm Dean." He introduced. "What's happening to me? Am - am I dead?" She asked him, scared. "That sort of depends." Dean said.

Dean and Tessa stand outside a room, watching what is apparently Tessa's body, hooked up to tubes and machines. A woman sits by the bed, holding her hand. "I don't understand. I just came in for an appendectomy." She said, confused. "Well, I hate to bear bad news, but I think there were some complications." Dean said.

"It's just a dream, that's all. It's just a very weird, unbelievably vivid dream." Tessa whispered, frantically. "Tessa. It's not a dream." Dean said to her. "Then what else could it be?" She asked him.

"You ever heard of an out of body experience?" Dean asked her. "What are you, some new agey guy?" She asked him. "You see me messing with crystals or listening to Yanni? It's actually a very old idea. Got a lot of different names: Bilocation, crisis apparition, fetches... I think it's happening to us. And if it is, it means that we're spirits of people close to death." Dean replied to her.

"So we're going to die?" She asked. "No. Not if we hold on. Our bodies can get better, we can snap right back in there and wake up." He said to her.

"What do you mean, you felt something?" John asked Sam and (y/n). "I mean it felt like, like Dean. Like he was there, just out of eyeshot or something." (Y/n) said as she shrugs. "We don't know if it's our psychic thing or what, it...But do you think it's even possible? I mean, do you think his spirit could be around?" Sam asked John. "Anything's possible." John said.

"Well, there's one way to find out." Sam said and he starts to walk out of the room. "Where are you going?" John asked him. "I gotta pick something up. I'll be back." Sam said. "You want me to come with you?" (Y/n) asked him. "No, it's okay. But if you can...watch over Dean." Sam said and she nods at him.

"Wait, Sam." John said and Sam turns to him. "I promise I won't hunt this demon. Not until we know Dean's okay." John said. Sam nods and leaves just as (y/n) looks over at John and the two share a look, a silent conversation between them, before she walks out of the room.

"I gotta say, I'm impressed." Dean said to Tessa as the two walk down the hallway. "With what?" Tessa asked. "With you. Most people in your spot would be jello right now, but uh, you're taking this pretty well. Maybe a little better than me." Dean pointed out. "Don't get me wrong. I was pretty freaked at first. But now, I don't know. Maybe I'm dealing." She said.

"So you're okay with dying?" He asked her. "No, of course not. I just think, whatever's gonna happen's gonna happen. It's out of my control, it's fate." Tessa replied. "Huh. Well, that's crap. You always have a choice. You can either roll over and die or you can keep fighting, no matter what —" Dean said just as the PA system started to play out.

"Room 237, code blue. Dr. Kripke to room 237, code blue." The voice said and Dean begins to run. "Where are you going?" Tessa asked him. "Just wait here." Dean said and he runs down the hallway to another room in crisis. The same spirit is hovering over a little girl, who is being resuscitated. It reaches a hand into her face.

"Get away from her!" He shouts and he lunges at the spirit, which vanishes. The nurses stop resuscitation once the machin let's out a long beep. "All right, let's call it." One of the nurses said. "Time of death, five eleven p.m." the doctor noted and they all look down at the little girl.

"At least she's not suffering anymore." The nurse said in a sad tone while Dean stared at this, stunned that he failed.

103 notes · View notes

thulhu · 2 years

Note

I was looking at your posts and I love your writing 💖, I could request an S/O woman who is a monkey like sun Wukong lmk, romantic please :D (sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my main language (◍ • ᴗ • ◍ ))

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♡ Monkey Love! ♡

Sun Wukong ♡

Man when he first saw you he was like Σ(ﾟДﾟ)

He didn't think there were any other monkeys beside him and Macaque.

The first time meeting you, he was cautious not know if you were gonna end up like Macaque or you were just a meany ( •́દ•̩̥̀ )

After a while though he realized you were a sweet lil monkey with no intention of causing a fly harm! ᕕ( ⁰ ▽ ⁰ )ᕗ

You weren’t as strong a Wukong so you mostly stayed on FFM with him to be safe from demons or other threats.

Most of your days were filled with playing games with the little baby monkeys and the big baby monkey (ヾ;￣▽￣)ヾ

Wukong became clingy and almost possessive of you over time to the point where he would pull you away from whatever you were doing for cuddles.

If you have to get back to whatever you were doing before he'll wine about it (´∩｀。)

“Why do you have to leeeeave.” ಠ╭╮ಠ

“I have to finish making your peach pie remember?” ▐ ・ ‿ ・▐

(゜ロ゜)

♪~ ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

You would often bake for him just because he was so sweet to you.

Housewife material???

Anytime he could he would definitely want to be holding you it didn't matter if he was laying on top of you while you play with his fur, him coming from behind to hold you while you cook, or even outside tangled in each other watching the stars!

Grooming each other's fur is a daily activity that you both deeply enjoy.

Just sitting with feeling each other's fur for hours on end. 999/10

Your relationship with Wukong is full of physical affection and emotional reassurance

He needs to know that you won’t leave him like everyone else so you better tell him you wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else!

You love your funny lil monkey man as much as he loves you (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

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I hope this turned out well sorry I haven't been posting being so busy with work so ill try to upload more!

Hope you enjoyed it!

Thank you for reading! ♡

#lmk au #lego monkie kid #lmk #sun wokung #the monkey king #lmk sun wukong x reader #sun wukong x reader #monkey reader #lego monkie kid wukong #lego monkie kid au #lego monkie kid sun wukong #monkey king x reader #monkey king

183 notes · View notes

adarlingwrites · 1 year

Text

Hellbound

Summary:

Unable to shake off the demons, particularly a devil, of her past, Fortune becomes aware that her anguish is bleeding over to her current deal and dalliance with Raphael.

Once and for all, she confronts this with the devil she knows better. After a much needed amendment to their agreement, she seals her fate.

Inspired by the songs A Pearl, and Shame.

Words: 5379

Relationships: Raphael x OC/Raphael x Tav

Date of Original Publication (AO3): January 25, 2023

Tags/Warnings: Unhealthy Relationships, Manipulative Relationship, Age Difference, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Deal with a Devil, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Past Relationship(s), Trauma, Moving On (Fortune is traumatized by a former love interest), Angst and Porn, Angst, Smut, Fear Play, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Face-Fucking, Vaginal Fingering, Anal Fingering, Sex, Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, Rimming, Fluff (if you squint hard enough) Praise Kink, Master/Servant, Exhibitionism, Semi-Public Sex, Aftercare, Not Beta Read

Author's Notes:

A direct continuation to A Devilish Distraction.

More of Raphael and Fortune because this damn devil has me on a chokehold. I went into a spiral listening to Mitski, and I coped with it by writing this. Welp.

I'm still hoping that we get NPCs as patrons for warlocks in the game, like Auntie Ethel for an archfey patron, or Raphael for a fiend patron. Fortune would be a Pact of the Talisman warlock if that option gets into the game. I know warlocks get pact boons at third level in tabletop D&D, but I took some liberties and had Raphael forge her talisman right after their agreement.

Love, hunger, possessions, wealth, influence, knowledge, power, pleasure- there’s always something that everyone is enslaved by, from the simplest of creatures, to the most powerful beings in the multiverse.

To Fortune’s shame, she had been a slave to her desires. She wants a partner in crime, for someone who will stand by her, for someone who will love her even after seeing all the ugly and twisted parts of her psyche, and it cost her the freedom she took for granted.

From the moment she had lighted the candle the night she wagered her soul for a stranger she stupidly claimed to have loved, she already knew she was damned. The flames flickered and illuminated her visage from below, and in the mirror, she can see herself surrounded by darkness; it was how she imagined hell look like, and later, the foolish girl found out that it was far worse than that.

True to her name, she’s fortunate enough to have evaded the Hells the first time. Then came her defeat at the hands of those who were to be her quarry. That should have been the end for her.

The wheel of fortune turns, and she finds herself free from her prison, only for her to squander that freedom again.

All because she’s still a slave to her desires.

The bastard Raphael left a mark on her, after their sin in his king-sized bed- not a mere love bite, but his goddamn initial, in Infernal script, branded onto her skin. It still ached when she woke up, and the curse the let out upon seeing it when she looked in the mirror reverberated through the walls of Raphael’s home.

Now she’s truly damned.

Then again, was she ever free?

Does true freedom even exist?

Raphael manipulating her into a contract didn’t stop her from seeking him out for a distraction from what haunts her. Fortune was bent over hardwood and used like a whore, then read to like a child, and still, she cannot fall asleep, or put the past behind her.

On the other hand, Raphael had already dozed off, his hands slack around the book. His wings are wrapped around the two of them in an embrace guaranteed to warm Fortune up even in the coldest of nights. The tiefling didn’t even know cambions can do that with their wings.

In his slumber, Fortune observes him. In his slumber, he looks at peace. In his slumber, he is vulnerable.

One flick of the rogue’s wrist and that throat would be gaping and spraying with his devil blood.

Instead, Fortune found herself caressing his cheek, and leaving a feather-light kiss on his horned forehead.

True to her nature as a rogue, Fortune moved in silence, careful not to wake her lover up, slipping past his arms and dodging his leathery wings. She puts the book on the table, leaving the bookmark where they stopped, and leaves his study. With muffled footsteps, she treads back to the bed chambers provided to her.

As soon as the doors behind her click shut, the tears started falling.

Everything is all coming back to her; the way Thatcher, or Kairon, broke her damned heart. Fortune is certain Raphael will break it even further.

It started with Thatcher plying her with wine. Devils and their bloody wine.

Before she learned of his true nature, she had mistaken him for another elven noble who wanted to try what lying with a tiefling felt like. In hindsight, him making a remark about wondering how it would feel like to be in her skin should’ve given it away.

A lot has transpired since then, from watching him dragged to the hells due to someone else tampering with his gift meant for her before she can get to it, to losing her mother to a lycanthrope attack and watching her father be cursed with the affliction. It made her desperate to keep the people in her life.

It made her desperate enough to beg Asmodeus to give Thatcher, or rather, Kairon back. Later, it made her desperate enough to embrace her mother’s copy, but that’s a story for another day.

Fortune should have seen the figurative knife coming. Even after wagering her soul for him like that, and after showing his true nature which he loathed so much that he built Thatcher to mask it, he didn’t trust her.

Devils don’t trust.

But Thatcher twisted the knife way too far when he disguised himself as Hoard, sullied his own name to the party, and tried to convince Fortune not to kill those strangers in Asmodeus’ name, just to test their reaction. Of course, Fortune would lie to her father about not wanting to kill those strangers Asmodeus tasked her to eliminate. They’re strangers, and Fortune isn’t that selfless. But learning of the truth that his daughter would be a remorseless killer would break her daddy’s heart.

So, she lied.

Still disguised as her father, Thatcher kissed her forehead, then revealed himself a few moments later, furious at the perceived betrayal.

Devils and their bloody schemes.

The most heartbreaking part is, if Thatcher hadn’t betrayed them, if he had stayed with Fortune, they would have had a fighting chance to take down their quarry. Perhaps they’d have fulfilled their contract with Asmodeus, and earned their freedom.

Instead, Fortune revealed her hand and didn’t even fight back.

Overcame with guilt and despair, the rogue committed suicide by proxy by letting her prey take her down, taking blow after blow until her body collapses, and her minotaur companion, her oldest friend, takes her away, and watches as hellfire claims her.

Poor Villian. He didn’t deserve to see me like that.

Fortune could already feel in her bones that another bloody catastrophe will unfold with Raphael.

Devils are always so tempting at the start. But in the end? All they bring is ruin. One cambion already ruined her. Now she’s letting another one damn her further.

Fortune is certain that Raphael doesn’t trust her either. She’s certain that whatever affection or fondness she has for him won’t change him, just like it didn’t change Thatcher. She’s certain that down the road, Raphael will gut her, just like Thatcher did.

Even worse, she and Raphael consummated their lust.

Fortune is certain that she will never be able to erase what he felt like, what he smelled like, and what he tasted like from her memory.

The rogue was being deceitful when she told the devil that the stress that comes from minding her compatriots is what drove her to seek him out.

Fortune wanted him one last time before the chase begins.

In a hurry, she begins to dress. She had intended to leave through the window, and disappear into the night. Blinking away tears, she puts on her stockings and adjusts the hemline of her skirt. As she puts on her boot, she felt a searing hand on her shoulder.

“My dear, I’m offended that you’d spurn my offer of a bedchamber in my house for a bedroll in the dirt, after I’ve treated you so well too,” he starts, voice hard.

“Wait, Raphael I-”

The words cease from flowing out her mouth as Raphael whirls her around and pushes her against the wall, pinning her under his weight. Forcefully, he burns her lips with a kiss, tongue invading the wet cavern of her mouth. Gooseflesh ripples through Fortune’s body, and she felt her knees buckle under his touch.

“Do I have to remind you of what you agreed to, Fortune?” the devil asks as he gasped for air. “Or do I have to remind you again with a lesson? I grow tired of this; you test my patience-”

Instead of letting passion overrule her better judgment again, Fortune wriggles away, palming at his chest. “No!”

Raphael tries to catch her, but she takes a misty step away from him, panting, tears in her eyes.

“I can’t take it, I can’t! I don’t want your touch right now. I want you to stop touching me,” Fortune wails, voice breaking. “I want you to stay there and listen. You said you’ll give me anything I want, yes? Failing to do so is a breach of contract, so stay put.”

This girl is far too clever, too quick-witted than what he gave her credit for, and Raphael isn’t sure if he should be furious, or proud. The cambion stops short of moving or talking, seeing how doing so would result in him breaking the contract. No devil worth his salt would incur the punishment of Asmodeus’ ruby rod over such an error.

“You truly are a descendant of Glasya. Go ahead, use every loophole you can find, but few walk away from me in violation of a deal, Fortune. Remember that.”

Fortune takes a steadying breath and clears her throat. “Let me explain, just, give me a damn moment.”

“Take all the time you need, we have all night,” Raphael replies, crossing his arms.

Sighing, Fortune takes a seat by the open window, eyes closed as she tries to calm herself. Raphael sat across her, on the bed. In any other circumstance, Raphael would have been relishing at the sight of his clients like this: vulnerable and easily plied. For some bloody reason, he can’t find in himself to celebrate seeing the tiefling lady like this.

This girl really is growing on me.

The cambion’s eyes are trained on her as she began to speak.

“I was lying, I’m getting along well with my compatriots. There was something else haunting me. Remember that whole affair with Asmodeus’ bastard son? It left me scarred, in more ways than one. It left me slow to trust, and yet it also left me desiring to be trusted. I want someone who trusts me. And you devils, I know you’re incapable of such a thing. I don’t think you can fulfill this contract, under these circumstances. If I were cruel, I’d say that I want you to do that for me, and watch you burn as you fail.”

Fortune is right, and that makes Raphael wince. Devils don’t trust.

“But I can’t afford to be cruel right now. I know that I might need you later. And I-“ Fortune hesitates, biting her tongue, then she screws her eyes shut, as if saying the next words physically hurts, “For some bloody reason, I’ve grown fond of you. I still want you. Gods, I want you so much…”

Now that, Raphael did not expect her to say out loud. Still, he gives no reaction, and lets her continue.

“I don’t think I can fulfill my end of the bargain, as well. Oh, bloody hells, I’m not even sure what being yours mean, Raphael! Do you expect me to stay here and sit on my hands while the tadpole eats away at my brain? Is that what you meant in making me yours, by treating me as some kept woman you provide shelter and support to in exchange for my companionship? Is-is it my soul that I wagered to you? You can’t even have that if I lose it to the tadpole- gods! This is far too complicated… The point is, we’re doomed to violate it, one way or another, and you of all people should know that. Isn’t there a way out of this, or at least a way to amend the deal?”

Raphael had been pondering about voiding the deal. Now, there’s an opportunity to do so, but Raphael is not a fool to just let this woman go. To his delight, she had given him an opportunity to make it work in his favor.

The devil produces the written copy of their contract from thin air. “We can agree to render this contract void… as if the deal never happened. However, reverting has its consequences. How would you propose I give back the intangible things you wanted that I provided, Fortune? Like a night of passion, or a request to listen?”

No answer can come out of the tiefling’s mouth. She shakes her head.

Raphael continues. “I admit, I’m also starting to grow fond of you in my way, so I am extending my mercy. For both our sakes, we can agree to amend it with a new one, to balance the books.”

A long, tired sigh pushes past Fortune’s lips. “Looks like I’m stuck with you.”

Fortune’s hand itches to slap that smile off of Raphael’s face, but she kept her hands to herself.

“Now that we’re both in a situation that allows for clearer thinking, unlike the last one…” Raphael begins, harkening back to the circumstances of their first agreement, the memory of burying himself deep inside of Fortune making him lick his lips. “Let’s discuss the stipulations of this new agreement.”

“Name your terms. What makes me yours? What exactly do you want from me?”

The devil’s clawed, long fingers stroke Fortune’s chin, and he leers at her. “I want to own your body,” he purrs into her ear, voice low and seductive. One hand squeezes her hip, and it slowly inches to her behind. “To use it for whatever I desire, my dear.”

“Human, elf, or devil, you men are all alike,” Fortune spits, sneering.

“Are we now? Or is it your dark, sensuous charms that captivates and enthralls a man, regardless of his origins? But I digress- Now name your terms. Tell me something that you want.”

“Now hold on a minute, owning my body could mean several things,” Fortune snaps, placing her palms on his chest. “It could mean that you can use me as a means to sate your sexual appetite. You can use to it bear your children. You could use it to fight a battle. Hell, it could even mean that you own the tadpole in my head, as it is technically inside of my body right now. Reword it.”

Raphael laughs and squeezes her. “This is what I love and hate about you, sweet cherry. You always see beyond what’s in front of you, always reading between the lines, always attempting to think a few steps ahead…”

“I can’t afford myself to be short-sighted anymore, and you know that.”

“Indeed, my dear. Fine, let me rephrase.” Raphael pauses to kiss her neck. “I am the only creature allowed to gain carnal knowledge from you. I am the only one allowed to kiss you, hold you, taste you, know you, and violate you like this. In the works of the flesh, I am your only master,” he near-whispers into her skin, taking in her scent as he did.

“Exclusivity? Are you getting attached now?” Fortune asks, slightly amused at the notion. “Don’t you have countless mistresses who can attend to your needs better than a rogue on the run for a cure to an illithid infection, Raphael?”

A gasp pushes past the tiefling’s hips as her cambion lover grinds his hips against her. Underneath the layers of cloth that separate them, he’s already hard as rock, and pulsing against her thigh.

“As you can see, you’re the only one who can elicit such a reaction from me even before you touch me, little cherry,” Raphael growls.

Truth be told, Fortune is flattered to be this desired, after feeling unwanted from Thatcher’s betrayal. The tiefling leans into him, heat pooling into the pit of her belly.

“Now, name your terms, so we can seal the deal.”

Eyebrows knitting together, Fortune thinks, thoroughly. She needs to make this worth it; being a cambion’s consort and bedmate is too steep of a price for something that won’t be of much use to her. All the nobles that sought out dalliances with her in her youth gave her the same material things Raphael had provided. Even without a noble financing her, riches, she can earn with her own hands, and influence, she can earn with her own tongue. What can Raphael offer that she cannot achieve with her own means? What can Raphael offer that other nobles she had the displeasure of knowing can’t?

Fortune recalls his halfling servant, Korrilla Hearthflame, and how effortlessly she wielded her borrowed magic. The only magic Fortune knew are spells that supplement her roguish activities.

Fortune could use some of Raphael’s magic. Fortune could use more power.

“Make me your warlock. It even ties in with your original intent of using my body- turn me into a vessel of your power.”

The devil’s laughter booms. At this point, Fortune might as well offer herself on a silver platter.

At the same time, Raphael cannot wait to see just how this little vixen will use her gifts.

“My dear, it’s a deal.”

Back in his study, Raphael drafts the contract as Fortune looms over his shoulder.

Watching a devil produce a contract out of thin air is a sight that will remain in Fortune’s memories until her last days. In gold ink, the terms of their contract appear on the document. This time, Fortune carefully reads every single word.

Satisfied, she dips the feather in the inkwell, and signs her name over the dotted line. Raphael follows shortly, and the contract dematerializes. Pain sears Fortune’s neck as the brand on her skin glows, signifying that the deal is sealed. Magic surges through her veins, arcane and eldritch powers coursing through her, and she nearly stumbles. Raphael catches her, steadying her feet.

“Couldn’t we just have made a toast to seal it instead of this?” she asks Raphael, an unamused expression on her features. Raphael presses a thumb against the mark. Fortune sucks air through her teeth at the feeling of the touch.

“Don’t you think branding you is more… thematically appropriate, consider the nature of our deal?”

“You devils and your whimsical nonsense,” she groans. To that remark, Raphael snickers.

The devil’s palm glow with hellfire, and an intricate, golden amulet with a blood-red gem embedded in the center materializes. It dangles on a delicate, golden chain. As the metal cools, he unfastens the chain, and puts the necklace around Fortune’s neck.

“There, another gift. A symbol of our deal, and a useful tool in your endeavors. Use your new gifts wisely, Fortune.”

“I intend to make you proud,” she half teases, half declares.

“Ah, speaking of whimsy, there is something new I wish to try tonight. I’m certain that what I have in store will help you bury the memory of that damn Thatcher. First, let’s pick up where we left off…”

With that, his lips descend upon the tiefling’s. This time, she readily accepts him, pushing back the memories that haunt her as she lived in the moment, tasting her lover’s intoxicating tongue, inhaling his heady perfume and musk, and feeling his muscles under his night shirt.

Smoke rises around them, and they are transported to Raphael’s bedroom. The doors to the balcony are left open, the wind making the fog dissipate, and the curtains sway and dance.

Breaking the kiss, Raphael strips himself, and Fortune watches his muscles shift and move with grace. Then, he proceeds to undo her clothing, until both are bare in each other’s presence.

Lifting her up, Raphael groans as his lover wraps her legs around his waist, her arms around his shoulders. With his tail, he pulls a drawer open from his nightstand, and retrieves a fresh flask of that lubricating concoction they used on the first night they lay with each other.

Still carrying Fortune in his arms, he walks to the balcony, and sets her to sit on the railing. The crisp night air makes his member retract slightly, but he’ll warm up soon enough. He pulls away from Fortune, and sees the hesitation in her eyes.

“Worry not my dear. I’ll hold you.”

“On the balcony?!” Fortune blurts out, looking over her shoulder. “What if someone sees us?”

“Let them see,” he moans into her ear, and nips at it.

Kisses mixed with bites and scrapes of sharp teeth mark Fortune’s neck, and any attempts to keep quiet in fear of a passerby hearing fail. Deft fingers pluck, roll, and pull at the hardening cherries on her bosom, cold to Raphael’s touch due to her exposure. Her devil beau’s warm, sinister tongue brushes over the brand on her neck and Fortune curses, the pain and pleasure making her head spin.

Gods, Fortune is almost in her mid-thirties, but with a gentleman like Raphael? She feels inexperienced, and way younger than she should.

She leans back, momentarily forgetting that she’s perched on a railing, and fear jolts into her body, much to Raphael’s fiendish delight. He laughs at her reaction, and she knits her eyebrows together.

“Bastard,” she hisses, cheeks burning in embarrassment and arousal.

Raphael smirks, then firmly holds her with one arm as the other snakes between her legs. His tail brings over the bottle of lubrication, and he pours it all over Fortune’s already glistening sex, thoroughly wetting her until her tender flesh offers no resistance to his claws.

Obsidian eyes saw stars, literally and figuratively, as Fortune throws her head back. Raphael had three fingers lodged between her folds, his pinky inside that tight ring of muscle hidden between the cheeks of her derriere, and his thumb on her clitoris, circling the sensitive cluster of nerves as his fingers teased her. Fortune’s tail curls around his arm.

Raphael went to work. His lips latched on to a tit as he pleasured her. Fortune’s hands flew to his horns to steady herself, feeling the delicious, agonizing stretch of having both of her entrances filled and toyed with.

“My dear girl,” Raphael grunts, taking a break from suckling her breast. “Seeing you like this, I am unsure if I wrote my clause for my benefit, or yours.” Then, he went back to being busy with his mouth, his devilish tongue flicking and circling her hard nipples.

Fortune offers no reply, unable to form words from the intensity of the pleasure she felt. The telltale twitch of her hips lets her lover know that she’s close.

“Now, come for me,” Raphael growls against her breast, then he bites down, her maroon nipple pinched between his teeth, and his ministrations becoming aggressive as cruel as he teased chased that orgasm from her.

A submissive, sexual slave at heart, Fortune spasms around his hand at the command, the sound of his voice pushing her to her release. The devil’s name is upon her lips like a zealot’s pleas, a string of saliva connecting her lips together.

Slick with her release and the salve, Raphael withdraws his hand from between her legs, and he allows her to recover, head pressed against his chest as she breathed heavily. Then, he tilts her chin up, and shoves his forefinger and middle finger in her mouth. Fortune tastes the slightly sweet salve mingling with her own tang.

“Good girl.”

The praise makes Fortune moan against his digits. Raphael’s free hand stroked her head, watching with delighted arousal as her obsidian eyes flutter shut. She licks his fingers clean.

“You love your master’s praise? You want more?”

Fortune nods a few times, eager to please.

“Then you’ll have to earn more.”

Without being prompted, she hops of the railing to kneel before him. A leer spreads across the devil’s mouth as the tiefling grips his member and runs her tongue from the base to the tip.

“Such a good girl you are, learning how your master prefers to be pleasured in such little time…”

With her talented mouth, Fortune bathes him with her saliva, then gets busy suckling the heavy flesh that hangs below his length as she strokes him with her hand, ending it with a wet, lewd pop. Inch by inch, Fortune takes him in until his head tickles the back of her throat, and his dark hair tickles her nose. Eyes watering from exertion, she blinks the tears away and starts to bob her head.

Raphael’s eyes are fixated on his lover, watching her every move with a lascivious expression on his fiendish features. His hands clamp around her horns, and he proceeds to use them as handles as he thrusted his hips.

“Perfect,” he hisses, eyes drinking in the sight of her helpless and at his mercy.

The rogue maintains eye contact as she skillfully pleasured her master, taking all of him in as much as she can, letting him use her mouth. Her hands reach under his manhood to fondle him, squeezing him as he took her.

The devil’s hips twitching, he pulls her away from him, saliva stringing from her mouth to the angry, deep red tip. Fortune gives it one last suck, tongue fluttering against the underside.

“Enough. Bend over the railing, right now.”

The gruff, nearly guttural tone of Raphael’s command makes all of the hair on Fortune’s body stand on end.

“Yes master,” she whimpers as she does as she is told.

An embarrassed squeak bubbles up from the tiefling’s throat as she felt his warm tongue skirting around her back entrance, the ring of muscle quivering as it slid around it. Her tail stands erect in the air, twitching and vibrating like a happy, affectionate feline’s.

“I- that’s- isn’t that- oh! Fuck, Raphael what are you- oh gods,” Fortune babbles, no longer coherent once again. She hates and loves how he manages to rob her of her words every damn time.

The new sensation made Fortune lose herself to the pleasure, wild cherry eyes screwing shut and a look of labored pleasure upon her visage as Raphael licks, sucks, and kisses around the area. It all feels so taboo, and that factor just adds to the tiefling’s exhilaration.

Satisfied with his work, Raphael withdraws his face from between the apples of his lover’s cheeks. He wipes his mouth. With the snap of his fingers, the mess is gone, his mouth and hands clean. Then, with his strength, the cambion dangles half of her body over the balcony, her hips crushed against the cool marble railing. Without the need to tease her due to her already dripping snatch, Raphael slides right inside of her, past her folds, taking her like a bitch once again.

The position makes Fortune panic.

“Oh gods, Raphael, I’ll fall-“

“Shhhh,” he soothes her, holding her firmly. “I will never let you fall. I’m right here…”

Fortune screws her eyes shut, hands planting themselves to the railing as Raphael moves inside her, flesh slapping against flesh.

“Tonight, I am your master, and I’ll leave no holes unfilled once again,” he growls, the tiefling’s messy curls tickling his nose and chin. “You’re mine, and all of you are mine to please myself with and violate, do you understand?”

“Yes, master!” Fortune cries, voice quavering.

The angle of Raphael’s penetration hits Fortune in all of the right places, his head brushing against that spongy cluster of nerves that sends jolts of pleasure radiating through the tiefling’s sinful body. Opening her eyes, she sees the pavement down below, and fear mingles with her pleasure further, breaking her.

Shamelessly, her moan echoed into the night, the howling wind masking it. Her lover reaches one hand around her to massage her clitoris as she rode her release on his length, coming all over him.

As Fortune recovers from her high, Raphael takes the bottle of that lubricating concoction once again, and he douses her backside with it, spreading the lubrication all over her flesh, ensuring that it covers and slickens her hole. Then, he withdraws his hard, hot length from her womanhood, coats that with the lubricant too, and gives It a few pumps.

“Yes, master, please, your cock in my ass,” she begs, and the filthy language makes Raphael twitch. “Please, please, please, I need it!“

As the head pushes past her entrance, Fortune pushes back on it, eager to have her hole suck him inside of her, tail twitching in anticipation once again. The eagerness he displays makes Raphael chuckle, amused that she had grown to love and crave the feeling of being sodomized by him. Not a lot of his mistresses were open to this treatment. Some found it degrading, or violating. Perhaps it is, and Fortune is among the few who sought it out and begged to be degraded and violated.

Fortune felt ashamed of having such desires. However, in the presence of a devil like Raphael, there is no moralistic judgment against them.

What’s for certain, however, is damnation. For dealing with the devil, for consorting with the devil, for surrendering to the devil, Fortune is hellbound.

Raphael slides half of his length in and out a few times, watching with perverse satisfaction as her entrance stretches and shrinks, an obscene pop punctuating each motion. He teases the ring with his head in between penetrating her, basking in her moans and little sounds of enjoyment as he debased her. Finally, he stops teasing. He grabs her hips, dangles her over the edge once again, and pounds her properly, burying himself to the hilt.

The tiefling rogue’s pert breasts bounced and shook as her lover took her, her hands scrambling for purchase on anything she can grab. Thankfully, Raphael bends down to kiss her head, and she uses that opportunity to cling onto his horns. Fortune’s tail snakes around his thigh, clinging on for dear life. This earned her his amusement, and he laughs into her ear at her display of fear.

“Our activities are much more pleasurable when you’re reeling in fear,” he purrs, voice dripping with evil intent. “Are you afraid, Fortune? Scared I might let you fall?”

“Y-yes,” she chokes, breathing hard and fast from the fear of falling to her death, and being pounded mercilessly by a devil.

Raphael’s strong wings curl around their bodies, shielding most of Fortune’s body from the wind, and any onlookers that might be watching. Above all, it felt like a safety net.

“Embrace It, my cherry. Fear and pleasure are two sides of the same coin,” the devil purrs, grunting and groaning as he pumps inside of her.

The pressure starts to build at the base of Raphael’s spine, the pent-up frustration making his tail lash back and forth involuntarily. He had been holding his release for quite a while now.

“I’m close,” he growls. His hand moves to wrap itself around Fortune’s torso. “Join me. Come for me, cherry, come for me…”

One had letting go of his horn to stroke herself, Fortune did her best to follow the command, grunted over and over into her ear. Soon, her release is imminent.

“Raphael, master, I’m coming, I’m coming- yes!“

A deep, guttural groan almost deafens her as she felt his warm seed spill into her in spurts. Fortune cries and moans as she rode out her second climax with Raphael’s, hips twitching and tail shaking around his thigh.

The wind tousles their hair, howling with them.

The devil brings his lover back to safety, pulling her into his arms, and into his warm room. With a soft thud, Fortune finds herself on his bed. Then, Raphael closes the doors to the balcony.

“Stay,” he commands, but his voice is soft, almost taking a nurturing quality to it. The tiefling lays in silence for a brief moment, watching the shadows of the curtains dance.

The devil comes back with warm water and a washcloth, even when both of them could just prestidigitate the evidence of their lovemaking away.

Fortune does not question it.

With care and tenderness unbecoming of a devil, Raphael cleans her up, running the wet cloth on her skin. Mind still hazy from pleasure and fear, the tiefling sits in silent confusion, feeling like a small child being tended to. The rational part of her brain reminds her not to trust any tenderness from a cambion. However, her body, her senses, and her most primal desires crave more of these petty affections.

Once he is satisfied with his work, he lays next to her, and pulls her to his chest, covering her with the duvet to her waist. His wings, sprawling on the king-sized, curl around their bodies, further covering his lover from the cold.

Fortune does not question it.

Instead, unprompted, she whispers.

“I love you.”

#baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 raphael #baldur's gate raphael #raphael baldur's gate #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael x oc #raphael x tav #fanfiction #fanfic #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 fanfic

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darksiderssin · 1 year

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*Pokes into the askbox* Hi, i'm pretty new to the Darksiders fandom! ( Recently got the first game and a figurine of War 👀🙈🥰 ) Anyways, i was wondering if i can request a War X fem!reader?

Maybe some headcanons on him with with a reader who's a big horror movie nerd? ( I'm a huge sucker for slasher movies and giant monsters :D ) or maybe headcanons for his Chaos!form? Can be either SFW or NSFW.

Anyways, hope you have a great day/night! :3

Hey, welcome! I hope you're enjoying the game, it's fun to play as a monster truck on legs. XD Movie nerd s/o headcanons coming up!

Needless to say, you were pretty bummed out when all the cinemas in the area were either destroyed or occupied by the warring forces of Heaven and Hell. Shutter Island was about to drop, too, and you were looking forward to watching it, but now you were straight out of luck. No more movie nights either, just surviving and finding any thriller novels that hadn't been ruined by exposure to the elements.

War, for his part, hasn't spent as much time on Earth compared to Strife, who would probably know more about human culture than he would, and he's curious as to why humans scare themselves for entertainment. Don't the dustborn usually avoid things that scare them? He's happy to hear you go on and on about your favourite horror movie plots, your favourite slashers and monsters. Turns out he's fought a few of those monsters before, or at least something similar to what you're describing. Yes, demons will possess humans or mess with them for fun. Yes, vengeful ghosts exist, though they're usually more his eldest brother's area of expertise. Despite the whole "scaring yourself for fun" thing, War comes to see that the fear is half the fun, the other half being the interesting plots of these tales. He's not much of a reader himself, but he's happy if it makes you happy.

His Chaos form was a treat for you, too. You've seen Kaiju movies, and while War isn't as big as say, Godzilla, he's just as impressive to see in action, even as you're scrambling out of the way of the conflict. He's like a big dog in this form, and he'll gladly curl around you to keep you warm or just for a snuggle, or let you ride on his back. He very much enjoys your excited babbling about how cool he is, even if he snorts and calls it ridiculous. He is very cool. He's not sure what Godzilla is, but he wants to fight it now to prove to you that he's far more impressive than a lightning-breathing iguana.

#ask #answered #silkekruse #not sin #darksiders #war

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lankira · 10 months

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you, lanki

tell me about your ocs

I HAVE SO MANY. And they're from D&D and other RPGs, so here goes... (Note: some of the other characters that come up are played by some of my mutuals, who I'll let self-identify only if they want to. So, expect to see reference to numbered mutuals. Also, ongoing games are marked with a + at the beginning of the paragraph.)

From Star Wars (the Fantasy Flight RPG), we have T'lara Kest, a stronk purple twi'lek who fled Ryloth to avoid being sold. She took various jobs, from working security at clubs and bars to full-on mercenary work until she wound up with the crew she adventured with (she may have also done some, uh, "adult modeling" to help make ends meet before meeting the crew). During their adventures, she lost her legs to cybernetically enhanced nexu, joined the Rebellion, saved her special agent boyfriend from a zombie-infested Imperial ship he'd infiltrated, and survived a lightsaber to the gut. She also had a hella crush on one of our party members (Kidan, played by Mutual 1), but the leg loss led her to actually get together with her will-they-won't-they guy of something like 5 years. ALSO, she discovered at one point that she has a connection to the Force thanks to accidentally opening a Sith Holocron with fuckin' Darth Nihilus' consciousness in it.

+From Call of Cthulhu, we have Lori Jones, former TV personality turned occultist (and also straight-up cultist). She started off as somewhere between Jean Gray, John Constantine, and a daytime TV host. She then (accidentally) married Hastur, joined an occult investigative group, helped thwart some of Nyarlathotep's plans (some of which included her best friend of many years and the best friend's family), killed someone with a mind control spell, got sent back in time from 1991 to 1921 with the rest of the party, converted from Catholic to Jewish in order to marry another party member (Aldous, played by Mutual 2), and is currently heading up part of Hastur's cult in London while going through more investigative stuff and helping the party figure out how to get back to the 1990s. Oh, and she's plotting an assassination of a member of MI5.

From Pathfinder, I have two major OCs, with a third who is considering the leap to D&D.

Morana is a human Inquisitor of Pharasma whose teacher/father figure was possessed by the BBEG. She was going through A Lot, including adopting a 16 year old werewolf girl who became her squire. You know, I actually forget a lot of the plot of that game, but absolutely loved playing Morana because her personality was fun and Mutual 1 and I had a shitton of AUs to talk about her in. Because there's something to be said about a Pharasmin having a Thing for a dhampir. (I have reused Morana and her squire as NPCs because I love them so much.)

Jacinth Haf aka Jace is a half-elf and former sex worker who was raised in a brothel, then became a cleric of Sarenrae. Because it's a popular module that I don't want to spoil for anyone, I'll just say that, plot wise, she ran through Rise of the Runelords with a rather interesting party, including another of Mutual 2's characters. Jace is a firm believer that everyone is created equal and that equity is needed in order to give everyone the chance to succeed. While the party made some choices she didn't agree with, personal choice and free will are important to her, so she didn't physically fight them on any issues even when they released a pair of demons into the world rather than sending them back to the circle of Hell they belonged in.

Slaine Caellach is an elf ranger who, together with their black panther Straif, was on the run from their homeland to avoid being sentenced to death. Why would they be sentenced to death? They killed a human noble who'd trespassed into their territory and killed some animals Slaine was protecting. Then they escaped prison, avoiding being turned over to the human authorities who planned to kill them. Slaine also made the mistake of making deals with an eldritch being and wound up with something like Hermaeus Mora as a passenger in their brainpan. Until a TPK happened.

Aaaaaand now for the list of D&D OCs...

+Most recently played is Mara Lantos, who's a member of Team Ponderance (obligatory plug for our official artist, @thedovahcat, who did some great art of Mara and the rest of Team Ponderance and is an absolute delight to work with!). The Ponderance crew is currently working on thwarting what appear to be world domination plans being enacted by someone who should be long dead. Before adventuring, Mara was a member of a traveling performance group, The Wandering Oddities, who took her in when her family home was destroyed, killing her parents and (she believed) her elder brother. Within the Oddities, Mara was adopted by Pa, a Drow male follower of Eilistraee, and Da, a male wood elf, both of whom are skilled tumblers. With her birth family (heavily based on the Belmonts...), she had trained to be a monster hunter from a young age. So, she's the first fully multi-classed character on this list as a Bard/Fighter. The rest of Team Ponderance includes characters from Mutuals 1, 2, and 3! (Added note: 10/10 highly recommend Bard College of Lore paired with almost any Fighter subclass. Especially Battle Master or Echo Knight.)

While she was only played briefly, Razira Fein is one of my favorite characters to date. She is a female drow who came to the surface after losing her girlfriend, who'd been trying to leave the Underdark to join a conclave dedicated to Eilistraee. After joining the conclave and feeling her training with them was near-complete, Razira traveled as an entertainer. She still used some of her prior (read: drow raider) skills to take security jobs guarding merchant wagons and the like until she (and the rest of the party) were informed that they were destined to save the world. The thing that was most enjoyable about Razira was that she was a character who was entering the last phase of her arc as the game was starting. There wasn't much character growth she would have seen, but there was a lot of character growth in the party that she could have aided in. Hers, she felt, was a story of redemption and finding peace, and she believed others could do the same. She felt guilt when Nym, a male half-drow party member played by Mutual 3, left after she refused to let him start a fight with the Evil Army (not their real name) in a town square. She blamed herself, but also had felt that her action was the best choice rather than letting him get killed. Also, she was a Fighter (Echo Knight) with the Entertainer background, which made for a lot of fun for RP.

OK, OK, I'm gonna lump two D&D characters together here back-to-back because they're all followers of the Raven Queen. As a note, my DMs and I have tended to play the Raven Queen as a hybrid of her 4e and 5e versions.

Oswin Blair was a Paladin of the Raven Queen who formed an entire knightly order, the Order of the Raven's Crest at the end of her adventuring life. She had at one time led a group of soldiers to their doom, all of whom were raised as undead, their names emblazoned into her skin until she laid them each to rest. When she died, two names remained. She'd had to make a choice at the end of the adventure: let the BBEG go, or fight him nearly alone, which would have killed her and the child she had just discovered she was pregnant with. Her husband, Dane, was a healer and leader among a Druid Circle, so he split his time between her home and his enclave. In her time adventuring, Oswin and friends got up to some crazy shenanigans, though her biggest mistake was making a deal with a fae that inadvertently led to a few hundred years' worth of dead followers of the Raven Queen being resurrected. Oops.

+Mithvari Dresia is the character on this list with the most titles and the most to learn. A shadar-kai of only about 150 years, she was raised in a clerical school run by her father, Zunas, who is the younger of two sons the Raven Queen had before she ascended. He was harsh with her and still holds her to exacting standards she's unsure she will ever meet. She's only been on the Prime Material Plane for the last three years, with most of that time spent either being coddled by a temple that knew of her origins OR wandering as much as possible and discovering, essentially, a love of sex, drugs, and Rock & Roll (or Bardcore, I guess?). While she was being coddled by that temple, though, she did meet a paladin of Pelor , Randall, who she had a brief relationship with. Here we are two and a half years later, and Mithvari and Randall have been reunited by circumstance. She refuses to commit to a serious relationship unless he asks for one because she's spent so much of her life being told what she wants, she doesn't know what she actually wants. And also because she wouldn't mind the excuse to sleep around some more. She's basically one of those overly sheltered kids with really strict parents who lets a little too loose their freshman year of college.

#call of cthulhu #dnd #star wars #pathfinder #my ocs stuff #T'lara Kest #Lori Jones #Morana Rajani #Jacinth Haf #Slaine Caellach #Mara Lantos #Razira Fein #Oswin Blair #Mithvari Dresia #this isn't even all of them

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