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smoft-demons · 26 days

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MC needs some extra love

_______

You’re having an off day. Your demons have asked to make sure nothing’s actually wrong, just to be safe, but they’ve seen you like this a few times before. They understand. You’re just feeling down for no particular reason. Just sad and low energy. Extra tired.

Nothing happened, no one hurt you, nothing’s wrong… you just woke up in a low mood. Because it simply be like that sometimes. You just… need some extra affection today. No reason. It’s okay, they’re not judging. They’ll do what they can to cheer you up a little—they love you, you know. They want to see you smile at least once today.

_______

Lucifer:

When Lucifer notices your mood, he softens towards you a lot. He asks if anything is wrong first of course—they all do—but once he learns that there’s nothing he needs to correct and no one he needs to punish on your behalf, he just softens. He treats you more gently than usual.

He expects you’ll get fed up entertaining all his brothers, with their endless chaotic energy. So he invites you to hide out with him in his office. You are invited to just sit with him and read, or put on some music, or play a game on your DDD, or just rest… or whatever it is that will help.

He’ll even let you curl up in his lap and cuddle with him if that’s what you want. That cheers him up too.

He quietly redistributes the most taxing of your chores for today amongst the seven of them, to give you time to recharge.

You’ll find Levi and Beel doing the dishes for you when it’s your turn, or if you’re supposed to make dinner you’ll find that Mammon and Asmo have already ordered everyone takeout, and they’re already in the middle of setting it all out on the table. You won’t have to do a thing! If you were supposed to clean up a common space in the house, it’ll already be done by some of your assorted pact partners. You might even find sticky notes placed amongst your homework in Lucifer’s, Satan’s, and Belphie’s handwriting, suggesting edits and books titles to check for better information, and pointing out any parts in your work that are particularly well done.

When you check your DDD later, you see that Lucifer had instructed his brothers to take on what they can from you to make your life easier today. He was not planning on letting you know that, clearly—because he sent that in the brothers group chat. You only know because Karasu’s spy feature showed you.

His support is shown in all these soft, quiet details. Peaceful moments. Simple, but unmistakable reminders of how loved you are. It’s okay if you don’t smile today, even though he would like you too. He will verbally remind you that loves you anyway.

_______

Mammon:

Mammon’s first instinct, of course, is retail therapy. He offers to take you shopping. He’ll even pay for your stuff! He doesn’t mind if it makes you happy!

You appreciate that very much—and maybe you’d be happy to take him up on that if you were sad for a reason, but… you just have no spare energy. Just thinking about going out exhausts you more. You’d have to deal with looking at things! And forming opinions, and deciding on stuff to buy! There’s crowds and cashiers and bright lights and just… stuff outside! You can’t, you just can’t. You have no energy and you can’t.

The first time Mammon sees you like this, he’s confused. You don’t wanna go out? You don’t want any new stuff?? He sure hasn’t felt like that before!

He puts effort into figuring out what will actually help cheer you up instead. He’s considerate that way.

He tries taking you for a long drive. He tries taking tasks off your to-do list. He tries trailing after you all day to keep you company, holding your hand, chattering all day so you can’t hear your thoughts, staying quiet so you don’t get overstimulated. He cycles through every possible approach over the months, on every random day you happen to wake up like this.

It’s all greatly appreciated—and hey, some of his ideas work better than the rest! You feel loved and cared for regardless. It’s impossible to miss how much he adores you.

Eventually though, he strikes gold!

That particular day, he had been telling you a stupid joke every time he ran into you, in an attempt to make you smile. He gets a weak grin for his troubles just about halfway through the day. He beams at you triumphantly at that, impulsively scooping you up for a hug and repeatedly kissing the top of your head, and—aha! THERE’S the smile he was looking for!

From that point on, he knows what to do!

The next time you wake up in this mood, he takes the first opportunity to give you a playfully over the top show of affection. Over the course of the day, he keeps doing it!

He runs into you in the hallway between classes, he (gently) aggressively ruffles your hair as he passes you. He finds you aimlessly walking through the house, you immediately get snatched into his arms for a nice long squeeze. You sit with him as he’s scrolling through devilgram, he sets it aside for a moment to squish your cheeks between his hands and cover your forehead and nose with loud, playful kisses. You go up to him and request attention? You get kiss attacked, and he won’t let up until you crack a smile!

Your brain hurts, he says, echoing your very first explanation. It’s okay though, he says. He’ll kiss it better, he says.

He is MORE than happy to completely discard the tsundere façade to lean into this… over-the-top affectionate silliness, as long as it continues to make you laugh and smile like that.

He won’t admit it, but… this is more honest. This is much closer to who he is at heart than his usual behaviour is. Try as he might, he can’t hide how much he cares to save his life.

The realest aspect of Mammon is not the dumbass, not the money-grubber, not the uncaring cool guy that he pretends to be… no, it’s the goofy dork who loves you SO much that he’d go to any amount of effort to cheer you up.

He’s damn good at it too! HE was put in charge of your well-being for a reason! He’s the best big brother/guardian/friend/pact partner ever, and you’re his to take care of. He’s not letting HIS human go without smiling once for a whole day! You’re the sole member of his family he can openly dote on, and dammit, he will!

_______

Levi:

Levi’s go-to is, of course, distracting you with media. He tries games first, but if you’re too low-energy for that, he gets it. He tries anime, movies, shows, videos, manga, whatever you seem to respond best to.

You’ll notice a theme of letting others help, confiding in friends, opening up to people. There are repeated instances of characters asking for support from the rest of the cast and then being helped and taken care of. Lots of power of friendship stories, lots of hurt/comfort and “it’s rotten work” “not to me, not if it’s you” and team-as-family.

Maybe, just maaaybe, he’s trying to tell you something!

He relaxes when you explain that you just woke up like this, sometimes this just happens and it’s no one’s fault, there’s no problem, he doesn’t have to worry about you. He gets that! Sometimes he wakes up like that too. It does happen!

But… you’re his player two! He wants to worry about you!

So he takes care of you the way he wishes someone would take care of him when he gets like that. Gives you the extra love he knows first-hand that you need right now. He lets you choose the entertainment, he holds your hand, and mirrors what you do to self-soothe.

If you wanna lie on the floor and stare at his jellyfish decorations, he’s right next to you. If you wanna tell Henry how you’re feeling, he’s right there with you doing the same so you don’t have to feel self-conscious. If you’re stimming, he will too. That one makes him happy as well! If you wanna burrow into a pile of blankets and plushies like a hognose snake, he totally gets it and will also do that. He does that anyway sometimes, just because it’s comfy.

There’s not a hint of judgement from Levi. Ever. He gets it.

When you guys HAVE to leave his room, like for meals and such, he lends you his headphones. So you don’t get overstimulated from all the noise his brothers make. He never goes far from you, either. He always stays close enough that you can reach for him if you want to.

After dinner, when you’re tired and done with trying to act normal (not that even one of your demons is fooled), Levi brings you back to his room. He asks if you have any requests, anything you want to do, anything he can do to help you. If you know what you need, he’ll just do it. If you don’t, he’ll offer comfort in some form that makes sense to him. He understands that all you really need is some extra love when you’re like this, so he’s not at a loss. He gets it, he feels the same way sometimes, he can do that!

You end up curled up in his lap, hiding your face in his shoulder as he watches an anime you’ve both seen before at a low volume. Familiar and comforting. He’s happy to just sit and chill with you until you feel like you’ve recharged enough. He knows you’d do the same for him.

_______

Satan:

Satan’s instinct, once he learns what’s going on, is to bring you to the quiet spot outside where the stray cats he has befriended gather and then plonk the chillest one in your lap.

Cats are perfect fluffy little warm purring bundles of free therapy, after all. How could you not be recharged by this?

He’s not wrong, the cat definitely helps. It is in fact a perfect creature.

But… well, you don’t bother to spend the energy on saying so, but being outside isn’t really helping. You cringe at every loud noise. The wind ruffling your clothes every so often is annoying you. You’re sitting on concrete and it’s making you cold. The streetlights feel particularly aggressive to your eyes today. Very stabby. There are smells outside! No one wants that!

You love the cats, but Satan is giving them all his attention and you’re getting just a little bit jealous. You as well are giving the cat in your lap all your attention, and—as stupid as you feel about it—you’re getting a little bit jealous about that too. You want attention too! All the cat has to do is be cute and soft and it can have all the petting and cuddling it wants! As it deserves, yes, but… don’t you as well, though..?

You try to push that feeling away and just pet the cat. The cat did nothing wrong, you still love it, you’re supposed to be feeling MORE recharged from this! Not… whatever it is you do feel. At the end of the day you still enjoy petting the cat and you don’t want it to leave. That’s still true and that’s what matters, you tell yourself.

Eventually the cat decides it’s had enough petting for now, and gets up. Satan checks on you, fully expecting you to be thoroughly cheered up! Instead he sees you staring forlornly at your hands, mostly zoned out. Confused, he asks if you’re okay.

You nod once, giving him a hollow smile.

Now he’s concerned. He takes a minute to finish petting the cats surrounding him—noting the hint of jealousy in your eyes as you observe him—then comes to sit on the concrete stair next to you.

He gently points out that he knows you well enough to detect a lie. Especially an unconvincing lie like that. You give a noncommittal hum in reply. That’s all you have the energy for.

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, letting you slump against his side. Your head leans against his shoulder. His other arm comes up to stroke your head for a moment, then drops down again to take your hand.

In a small, tired voice, you thank him. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze in reply.

Eventually he adjusts you so he can hold you more comfortably. Every so often he kisses the top of your head, or rubs your shoulder, or squeezes your hand, or says something quietly to you. Pointing out a interesting leaf shape, telling you something inconsequential about his day, prompting you to look when one of the cats does something cute, reminding you that he loves you and it’s okay to feel like this. That he enjoys your company no matter what mood you’re in.

This helps a lot more. Eventually you have enough energy to reply to him in full sentences! He’s visibly relieved at that. Still, he continues to hold you.

It’s after this point that a different cat comes up to you. It sniffs your shoelace then rubs itself against your leg. It flops over your shoe, stretching adorably with its little paws reaching up. It looks up at you all wide-eyed and cute, and finally you give a short puff of a laugh. Satan feels it more than hears it, but still!! He feels successful!

You pet this cat as it stands up and sniffs at your free hand. You look at it with a little smile. There’s a bit more soul in this smile, to Satan’s relief.

Later, as the two of you are leaving, he slips the cat a treat and whispers a thank you to it. Then he takes your hand again and leads you back home.

(He makes a mental note to himself for next time: pet the sad human first!! Then go see the cats!)

_______

Asmo:

Asmo notices that you’re having one of those days today, and he rushes to spoil you. Like Mammon, his first instinct is to take you shopping—but specifically for clothes and makeup and skincare products. Stuff that would cheer him up.

But you’re tired, and he understands that. It’s okay, he still knows what to do!

Asmo brings you into his room. You curl up in a sad, tired lump on his bed. He lets you chill there while he gathers up the stuff he wants.

He returns to you with his arms full of stuff! Nail polish, face masks, a hairbrush, moisturizer and hair oil, etc etc. Stuff for taking care of you.

He makes a point of only doing stuff that doesn’t sting at all. No plucking eyebrows or messing with your cuticles or anything like that. Just the stuff that feels nice.

Asmo quietly chatters about people he knows and stuff he’s used and whatever the latest gossip he’s heard is. Not even really to inform you this time, because he knows you’re probably not gonna remember much when you’re like this, but more to provide you with a constant, grounding backdrop of his familiar voice.

He speaks softly to you as he wipes your face with cleanser and then proceeds with his skincare process. He gently brushes your hair, spending twice as long as necessary just because it feels nice. He insists you don’t bother to move as he sits next to you and paints your nails.

At some point he runs out of stuff to do, so he ends up just brushing over your face with a clean makeup brush. No product on it at all, he’s just doing it to make you relax, because it’s soft and it feels nice. It’s meditative, honestly. For both of you.

He spends a good long while doing that.

He finishes up and lies down next to you. He pulls you into a cuddle. You offer to return the favour for him. Do his skincare and hair and nails and stuff for him, spoil him back—because he deserves the best.

For the first time ever, he declines. He shushes you and holds you tighter. This is the only situation in which he would ever refuse that!

He says you’re more than welcome to return the favour tomorrow if you like, but for now he just wants you to rest. He did all that for you to get you in this relaxed state you’re in right now, don’t get up and un-relax yourself so fast! Keep your brain turned off! It’s good for you sometimes!

… yes, Asmo is surprised by his own selflessness too—more surprised than you are by now, knowing him. He’s always been selfless for your sake since you first became his friend. It still surprises him though.

_______

Beel:

Beel is your best guy for validation. For quiet, thoughtful, unwavering support. He’s a lot more insightful than he’s often given credit for. He’s one of the best people in this family in terms of emotional intelligence, no question about it.

He knows just what to do. He observes you as the day goes on, taking the first opportunity to pull you aside and check on you without any others around. Just to make absolutely sure there’s nothing else going on.

His voice is soft, his hands are gentle, and he puts effort into understanding you. You’re family, he loves you so much! So of course he would.

He’ll share his food with you of course—both because he wants you to know that he loves you that much, and because he’s trying to remove a task from your to-do list. You don’t have to think about getting food and preparing it and any of that if he just. Does it for you. You can spend your very limited energy elsewhere.

He’ll take you with him on his routine walk, just so you can have a change of scenery and an opportunity to chat uninterrupted.

He listens to you complain about being outside with his characteristic placid sympathy—a combination that would be a bit contradictory if it came from anyone else, but somehow makes perfect sense for Beel. It’s soothing. Reassuring, somehow. He helps a lot, just by being himself.

When you inevitably run out of energy—much quicker than you usually do, but you expected that—he offers to carry you. Or rather, he automatically goes to do it on muscle memory, because that’s just what he does with tired loved ones (Belphie usually). He catches himself and realizes he should ask first in this case. Just to make sure. He’s considerate like that.

You are very tired… and you want contact. So of course you accept the offer. How could you refuse when he offers so earnestly?

He walks in measured, consistent steps as he carries you. The sway of his movement is deliberately relaxing. He’s trying to lull you into a meditative haze, or maybe put you to sleep. Either is good, he thinks.

The warmth of him makes the… everything about being outside when you’re feeling this way a lot more tolerable. The sounds of his footsteps, his breaths, his heartbeat… all of that drowns out the background noise just enough. Your face is pressed into his jacket, so the streetlights don’t stab your eyes and all the distressingly inconsistent outside smells are entirely covered by the spices-aromatics-soap scent of Beel. It’s a smell you know very well, and the familiarity of it is grounding.

Everything about him is grounding, really. He really did know exactly what to do.

At the end of the day… it’s okay if you don’t smile. He would like you to, of course, but he will meet you where you’re at. Anyway, it’s more important to him that you feel like it’s safe to show however it is you actually feel around him. He understands the amount of trust that takes, and he’s honoured by it. Nothing is more important to him than that trust.

So, you don’t have to smile. It’s okay.

Don’t be strong, he tells you. There’s no need, for now. Just let him. Rest, lean on his strength—he’s got more than enough for both of you. He’s got you. He’s not going anywhere.

_______

Belphie:

Oh, you’re tired? A bit sad, a bit grouchy? Damn. Looks like even HE has more energy than you today. That’s not something he sees often! Well, that’s fine. He knows what to do.

It’s straight to baby jail with you!

In his arms, that is. In bed, surrounded by his best pillows, covered by the least warm heavy blanket he has, so you won’t overheat but will still feel nice and covered.

He positions you so you’re facing each other, with your head tucked under his chin. So you have room to comfortably breathe and talk, but your face is still as covered as possible so you won’t be bothered by any lights.

Emotional intelligence may not be Belphie’s strong suit, but he is observant and he understands exhaustion. This may not exactly be the usual kind of exhaustion, but still! There’s no demon better equipped to understand what’s going on with you right now, just by nature.

He’s totally fine with cuddling you in silence if you don’t feel like talking. That really works for him, actually, because it allows him to nap.

Not that he doesn’t WANT to listen to you. He does. He’d be happy to. But he gets it if you don’t wanna bother with that. It’s okay.

He will, however, delay taking a nap until you doze off first. He just wants to make sure you’re okay. He’s not about to just fall asleep and abandon you if you still need attention.

If you’re not falling asleep very fast, he will help. Not with magic, surprisingly. He’s being more… gentle, he supposes, than that in this situation.

He talks quietly about nothing important. The soft drone of his voice, kept consistent and deliberately soporific, melts into your brain like butter, slowing it way down. Blocking everything else out. Gradually turning it off. One hand rubs your back slowly, almost as if to match the rhythm of his voice.

It’s so relaxing. You feel like you could stay like this forever and never want to move, you’re that comfortable.

Belphie knows what he’s doing.

It works really well! He makes sure you feel loved and cared for, then makes sure you get some extra rest. Mental and physical recharging.

Of course, you wake up feeling a lot better. Maybe not entirely back to your normal self yet, but definitely better. How could you not?

You’re a lot less tired after you’ve slept, and less sad too… so he’s succeeded—but you’re still not smiling!

He can fix that, right?

He lets you get up and stretch first, of course. He does the same. Before you leave the room though, he wraps you up in another hug.

He pulls back to examine your face after a minute or two.

Hmm… you look comfy, but still no smile! He can’t have that! So he hugs you tightly again, but this time his fingers start to lightly poke and brush over your sides. He’s trying to force you to smile by tickling you. He’s not gonna do too much, he’s not trying to overwhelm you. He stops as soon as you crack a smile.

There we go, he says as he gives you one last gentle squeeze. That was all he wanted, he tells you.

He doesn’t let go of you for long, over the rest of the day. Always holding your hand, giving you random hugs, draping himself over your shoulders—but without making you take all his weight for once, because he knows you’re still kinda tired. Enough of it to be soothing, but no more. Just so you don’t get lonely. He doesn’t want you to get all sad again.

If you do get sad again though, it’s okay. He will squish the sadness out of you all over again, as many times as you need. He doesn’t mind.

_______

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longing-for-the-past-times · 8 months

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The four times you fell asleep on Ghost and the one time Ghost fell asleep on you - one.

simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

word count: 2,542

synopsis: Throughout your time as a Task Force 141 operator, you fell asleep on your Lieutenant in random circumstances. What happens when he is the one to fall asleep on you?

notes: hope you enjoy this, it was initially meant to be max 500 words but I got carried away reader's callsign is Bambi (she/her)

find it on ao3 part one part two part three part four part five

masterlist

one.

In hindsight, the day shouldn't have been so draining; it had been an average day spent on base, involving physical training, shooting, and paperwork. You had endured much worse during missions where you could barely get some shut-eye between watches, but that was not the case.

The problem, the literal root of your heartaches was a cat, your sister's cat. You had been more than happy to take care of it when she so kindly asked under the pretence of having to spend a few nights out of town. You had been even happier when you went shopping for cat supplies with her - perhaps excited at the thought of having a furry cuddling partner. And you intentionally kept it a secret from your teammates, scared that they would drop by uninvited to help you take care of it when all you wanted was the creature's undivided attention.

The previous day, the first day she'd spent under your care was perfect: she, for the cat was a female, spent hours cuddled up on the couch, sleeping like there was no tomorrow. But when the night came, the little beast came to life. Scratch that, beast was an understatement - it was the spawn of Satan that had been racing through your bedroom, jumping on the windows, and left hanging on the curtains. The demon that kept butting his head against your door, and that launched violent attacks against your blanket until your alarm rang.

So that was why the plain day at the base was more draining than it should have been. You went on with training, the shooting session was average, and the paperwork had you dozing on your desk. Letting out a small sigh, you forced your eyes to stay open as you scanned the last mission’s report for any grammatical mistakes- which proved to be a tedious task, especially because you’d eaten not too long ago and your eyes became heavier each breath.

At the sound of another yawn, Ghost lifted his head from his own paperwork, glancing in your direction. He noticed with a frown your exhausted face and the way you blearily rubbed your eyes in an attempt to make the sleep go away. What was that kept you up last night? Or should he ask- who? He quickly shook his head at the thought, discarding it like a crumpled piece of paper thrown in the bin. He’d known you long enough to notice your mood shifts and he would know, he had to know, if you started seeing someone. Not that he had something against it - he wouldn’t be the one to pry into your personal life like that. After all, it was Johnny’s job who, in turn, would share the information with him.

But that did not mean he could not try to ensure you felt good enough in his presence - the team’s presence - to not feel the need of finding another someone. After all, it would only get you distracted and unprepared for the missions to come.

His reasoning was sound in his head, and when he saw you had given up, propping your head against a stack of papers while mindlessly glaring at your extended hand, he got up from his desk. He made sure the screeching of the chair was loud enough to alert you something was going on, and he suppressed a grimace under his mask when he saw you slowly turn to face him, eyes glossy with sleep. At that moment, glancing at you, he thought you were the perfect embodiment of the expression: no thoughts, head empty, and, as much as it amused him, he knew he had at least to get you out of the office.

"Come on, let's go."

Scrunching your eyes before blinking, you looked up at his massive figure that was currently towering above your desk. If you'd been more alert, you would have noticed a small sparkle in his eyes, but your efforts were put into battling off the waves of sleep that just kept coming. Your mind could not form a coherent thought: what was the time, did the lieutenant finish his paperwork already, where did he want to go-

The internal questions continued and you ended up yawning loudly again, closing your eyes for a couple of minutes. You just needed to rest them for a while and then you'd be fresh, prime, and proper to finish your day on base. Yet your brief rest was interrupted when you heard, or rather, felt, a hot breath across your face. As you opened your eyes, you realized Ghost had crouched down in front of your desk, his masked face being centimetres apart from yours. His eyes still had that tiny sparkle you noticed this time, and involuntarily you began staring at his amber orbs and blonde eyelashes. Countless times you studied his eyes fervently, trying to get a glimpse of the man behind the mask - so much that you began to be aware of every crease and crinkle that would form around them, depending on his mood. At the time being, there seemed to be no such lines, or perhaps you were too tired to actually notice them-

"You can finish this report tomorrow, Sergeant. Let's go!"

He gently nudged you with his arm, waiting for any reaction. When he didn't receive one, he rolled his eyes and groaned, he actually groaned, which made you perk your ears in disbelief:

"I'm up, I'm up!", you shot up and out of the chair, too surprised by his loud reaction. But you couldn't see his face anymore as he was already heading towards the door, back turned to you, left hand silently gesturing you to follow.

The walk to the lounging area was silent, with Simon walking in front and you trailing dutifully behind him. The silence was not uncomfortable though, which was not unusual: he was one of the very few people with whom you could sit in a room for hours and don't feel the need to fill the space with words. There was no explanation for it; it all came naturally and you were smart enough not to question it, knowing that the lieutenant could be difficult with people when he wanted to.

"Look who decided to show up! Ghost, Bambi - how kind of you to join us!"

You shook your head at Soap’s loud greeting, trying your best to hide your smile as you plopped down on the sofa, next to Ghost. Captain Price was already seated in his designated armchair, leafing through what seemed to be a handbook, while Gaz was lounging on the other sofa, next to Soap. As usual, other members of the task force would come and go, bidding silent greetings, and at that moment, the comfort and familiarity of the atmosphere made you sigh softly as you propped your head on your hand while leaning against the armrest.

"Sleepless night, Y/N?"

Price did not look up from his book as he asked the question, but you knew he must have been watching you throughout the day, taking note of the sleepy state you'd often found yourself in. You also knew that he would have stepped in the moment he considered you pushed yourself too far, but for the time being, you were just satisfied that you managed to get through the day.

"Who's keeping you up at night, Bambi?", Soap quickly chimed in, a signature smirk plastered on his face. A smirk that widened even more when he noticed Ghost rolling his eyes, next to you. "Is there someone we should know about?"

"You're shameless, Johnny", you spat back at him, straightening yourself in an attempt to seem more collected. "...and even if there was someone, you think I'd throw them to the wolves?"

Gaz chuckled loudly at the remark, while Price was trying to hide his grin behind the pages. At that moment, Simon was glad the balaclava was hiding his features - the smirk he was sporting could rival Soap's.

"My sister left town for a couple of days", you eventually resumed, running a hand through your hair, "and asked me to take care of her cat-"

As expected, protests and offended remarks could be heard from both Soap and Gaz, the men demanding why they were not told of this earlier. They could have helped-

"The only help I'd get from you would consist of you two laying to sleep with her on the couch. But here's the catch, the beast only sleeps in the daytime - but when the night comes, she transforms into this dark demon which runs around the house and attacks my feet when I try to sleep!"

"Never had a cat before, Y/N? When you were a kid?"

You shook your head at Price's question, frowning when you notice his sympathetic expression:

"You need to keep them busy throughout the day, and then leave enough food for them at night. As a last resort, locking them in the bathroom is a good solution, but you need to first remove everything from the shelves."

"Or we could come in and babysit the baby!", Gaz kept pushing, an innocent smile gracing his features. "Sure, you had a rough night, but how hard can it possibly be, to take care of a creature whose routine mainly consists of eating and sleeping?"

"Well, it's only three more days. I'll manage somehow..."

As the conversation shifted to another topic you were too tired to understand fully, you laid your head against the wall, letting your body sink into the couch. There it was again, that soft hum that lulled you to sleep- not that you would actually fall asleep in the lounging area. No, you would just rest your eyes for a couple of minutes, before heading towards your car and riding back home to the little creature that must have been expecting you.

***

At first, Ghost did not seem to notice the shift of weight on his right arm. He was too busy scrolling on his phone, searching for articles about cats and their nocturnal habits. It wasn't until the room was too quiet for his liking that he looked up from his phone, his eyes meeting Soap's as his teammate was silently pointing to his right - in your direction.

He slowly turned his head towards you, his eyes widening almost comically behind his mask. You were the dead weight on his shoulder, soundly asleep, your left cheek squished against his arm. Of all the days, it was that specific day that he opted for a plain black t-shirt after training, and he was definitely overthinking his choice. Your skin felt soft and warm against his, enough to short-wire all the working circuits in his brain, prompting him to freeze and stare at you. The complete implications of this gesture would hit him later, when he would be lying in bed, unable to sleep, but for the time being, he could solely focus on the facts at hand: you were there, next to him, leaning against him, sleeping peacefully.

And he only wanted to keep an eye on you and kill anyone who had the slightest intention of waking you up.

"Where's that camera when you need it!", Soap quietly grumbled as he got up and started fumbling on one of the shelves, ignoring the daggers Ghost was shooting at him through his eyes.

"Top shelf, Soap - you put it there the last time you used it!", Price whispered with a sigh of mild frustration.

"Guys, be quiet, let the girl get some rest!", Gaz hissed as well before Soap joined him back on the couch, a dusty Polaroid camera in his hands:

"Alright, this one's for the books! Come on, give us a big smile, L.T.!"

He might have been unable to move, but his gaze spoke volumes- a true death glare though and through, quickly captured by Soap through the lenses and printed on the small Polaroid photo sheet. Gaz leaned over Soap's shoulder to see the result and even Price scooted his armchair a bit closer, a small grin dancing his lips. The picture was proudly placed on the wooden panel, next to one depicting the Captain sleeping just as soundly in the very same armchair he was currently sitting in. And in the meantime, Ghost could only feign indifference, letting his signature eye roll showcase his opinion about the situation.

He could not explain, could not even place a finger on or identify the warm and comforting sensation he was feeling in his chest. He was so used to the cold and dull feeling that had taken residence in there- yet there it was, a glimmer of hope, a ray of sun on a cold autumn day.

You felt safe in his presence, safe enough to put yourself in a vulnerable position in his proximity.

And he would do anything to keep things that way.

***

Bonus scene:

Letting out a small whimper, you stretched your limbs while keeping your eyes closed. You could not figure out how you got home or why your pillow was sporting a distinct smell of cigarette smoke, sweat and cologne, but your semi-conscious mind was too busy keeping you asleep that you did not seem to care.

Wait...

That scent was familiar. You were in its presence on an almost daily basis that you could tell it in your sleep. Well, not literally, considering that your mind was still trying to piece it out- why was your pillow smelling like Ghost?

You jerked yourself awake with a start, your groggy mind taking a couple of moments to process the fact that you were actually not in your bed, but in the lounging room at the base. And your pillow was not really your pillow, but actually, Ghost's shoulder and your cheek was fully squished against it.

"Look who's up, Sleeping Beauty herself..."

From your current position, his voice felt like a deep rumble, vibrating through your body and resonating in your bones in an unsettling manner. With a herculean effort, you managed to prop yourself against the other side of the couch, blearily blinking the sleep from your eyes. A faint blush spread across your cheeks, warmth radiating through your face as embarrassment tinged your features. It took all you had not to cover your face in your hands.

"I’m so sorry, L.T. - I really didn’t mean to-" "It’s alright, Bambi. No harm done."

The lack of your weight against him made him feel empty in a way he struggled to define. He tried to brush it away by rising from the couch and making a show of rolling his shoulder in front of you, calmly watching your embarrassed figure through his thick eyelashes. Your cheeks were already sporting an uncharacteristic rosy hue and your renowned doe eyes were widened, a glimmer of sheepishness and self-consciousness reflecting in them. He would never admit it to anyone, but he secretly adored the fact that he was one of the few people who could coax such a reaction from you.

"Although next time you might want to do it in a room without Soap. It’s likely that the entire base will learn of it by tomorrow."

A/N: wrote this on a whim, not proofread so it may contain grammatical errors (and more) updates won't be regular as I'm a college student with a full-time job

Hope you enjoyed it :)

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley #ghost x you #ghost mw2 #cod ghost #task force 141 #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost imagine #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff #call of duty imagine

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peterthepark · 2 years

Text

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

tags: 18+ very graphic smut, rough van sex, dirty talk, analplay, sub!eddie but also very much switch!eddie, lust at first sight, major mutual pining, a sprinkle of perv!eddie but hes sexy so its okay, (1) guest appearance by dustin, post vol. 2 fix-it fic, 7k filth

summary: she’s the girl next door. eddie is the metalhead freak who’s just barely clearing his name after a whole town fiasco. opposites attract but certainly not like this, and certainly not in the back of eddie’s van.

a/n: pov vol 2 ended on a positive note and eleven miraculously fixed everything so a freshly-graduated eddie can now live his life to the fullest!!!!!!!! aka what should’ve happened… minors dni. not for u.

It’s rare for Eddie Munson to be roaming the white-picket fence suburbs of Hawkins. It feels like a fantasyland — golden retrievers and tabby cats, designated trash days and bright, green grass full of yellow daffodils, oak trees with makeshift swings and wooden playgrounds built by loving fathers. It’s too perfect, too uncanny, and Eddie knows deep down that he doesn’t belong in such a world as nice as this one.

But the suburbs of Hawkins are also welcoming.

When he gives Dustin a ride from school to home, when the noon is at its peak, golden rays and soft sprinklers making rainbows rise from the soil, he thinks — for a moment or two — that he belongs. He could if he wanted to. When Henderson invites him over for dinner, or when Harrington needs help fixing his car, when Mike needs relationship advice (as if Eddie could know anything about that) and when Robin wants to know more about Iron Maiden to impress the metalhead ladies, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, it isn’t so bad on this side of town.

That is until he saw you. And he realized then why everyone called this part of Hawkins a slice of paradise.

Pretty college student. Cut-off shorts from the Gap paired with baggy baseball tees, and a cute nose always stuffed in a romance novel or — some days — a textbook. Glossy lips, adorable socks and checkered picnic blankets where you’d lay out on the too-pristine yard, kicking your legs back and forth as if acting like eye candy was your specialty.

The perfect poster girl of Hawkins with just enough rough edges to be labelled the girl next door.

Only, Eddie doesn’t live next door to you. Dustin does.

“The least you could tell me is her name, Henderson. I don’t want gas money, I want her name. Spelled out for me, syllable by syllable. Government name.” Eddie rambles, shifting impatiently in the driver’s seat as Dustin leans over the passenger window from the outside. “We’re sitting ducks here, man. What if she sees us spying on her damn fence like some creeps?”

The curly-haired sophomore sighs, fingers strung together as he frowns at his older friend, “You are a grown ass man, Eddie. All you have to do is ask her, just say hi, make an impression or something! You can’t just be looking at her from afar everytime you come over, blasting this Metallica shit…”

“You are on very thin ice, boy.” Eddie wags a finger at him, wide eyes bouncing between Dustin and the front of your house. “I don’t know her like you know her. I don’t wanna be weird, especially after just putting all this town satanic cult bull behind my ass. She might think — dammit, I don’t know… I just wouldn’t wanna scare the girl, okay?” He sucks in a deep breath, shrugging the thought off with a hopeful smile, “Not this time.”

“Disgusting.”

He snaps his head towards Dustin, reaching over and rustling the cap on his head with a playful smirk. “You’re disgusting, you fuckin’ booger.”

And as if on cue, like every other day he’s been through this neighborhood, Eddie watches your figure emerge from the porch, picnic blanket and weathered paperback in hand. His jaw goes slack at the image of your denim overall-clad frame, nothing but a bikini-like bra underneath the number while a fresh cigarette dangles from your lips. So much skin — the exposed flesh of your neck, the salty beads of sweat rolling down your collarbone, the cherubic glow of your complexion and the alluring blush of your lips as you sit out on the yard.

Fuck.

A loud boom pulls the metalhead from his trance. Dustin’s palm comes down against the flimsy van door. “Earth to Eddie? Get a grip, you’re drooling.”

And all he can really say is: “She’s so damn pretty.”

Maybe he’s overreacting. Maybe he’s just really that in-deep with a girl who he has never, ever spoken to. Maybe he’s a pervert rather than a misunderstood freak and this is all just completely wrong of him. But, god, it feels so right to stare. Eddie can’t help it, especially once you catch sight of Dustin and send him an adorable little wave — then your eyes flicker over to Eddie’s dumbfounded expression inside the van, where you wave at him too.

And the twenty one year-old swears he dies. Right at that moment. His heart skips several beats all at once, possibly even flatlining as a small smile falls upon your graceful features, bursting right out of his chest even as you look away and immediately redirect your attention to the walkman in your pocket like you hadn’t just casually murdered him alive.

Fuck me, he thinks.

The next time Eddie sees you, he gets a little more than a wave. He’s reveling in this newfound attention as he bounces down the steps of Dustin’s porch and catches sight of you on the other side of the fence, already staring his way before he sends you a nerdy two-finger salute with a close-lipped smile. And just before he reaches the sidewalk, your sweet voice stops him in his determined tracks.

“Metallica at three p.m. in this neighborhood is a death wish, you know.”

Eddie turns slowly on his heels, shoes facing you before his whole body follows hesitantly. He’s trying to wipe off that stupid expression on his face, lips parted into a skinny ‘O’ that makes him look like a fish out of water as you finally make eye contact. He heats up immediately from the inside, belly churning and throat tightening when you give him a once over. And it seems like you don’t exactly care for subtlety either — blown pupils raking over his tattooed arms, taking in the torn rips of his shirt-turned-tank-top and the tanlines just above his elbows.

He hopes you think that the scars on his body are just as badass (if not, more) than his tats.

Say something. “Didn’t know music was on a schedule.” Eddie manages to follow along with a shrug, lips tugging to the side nervously.

In response, you smile. You fucking smile as if he hadn’t just said the most stupid response ever. It’s gentle, airy, almost effortless as crescent-like lines shape your warm cheeks and you cup a hand over your eyes, adorably squinting through the bright sunlight. “Oh, believe me, I had Iron Maiden on blast one time and ever since then, the whole block has been thinking I’m some sort of cult apologist.”

His heart grows like a balloon filling with helium, voice even going so far to climb several octaves of excitement as his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “You… you listen to that kind of stuff?”

You play with the lacy strap of your top. You’re beaming widely at him from the other side of the fence. “Do you judge books by their covers, mister?”

“No, ma’am.” Eddie swipes the glistening pad of his thumb across his bottom lip, stifling the grin that threatens to spread across his mouth. Sheepish, he shakes his head. “I think I underestimated you then. I’m… I’m sorry I…”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m kidding. Seriously though, I have a bunch of mixtapes back in my room. Ozzy, Dio, some Sabbath. No one really gets it, but you… you seem like you do.”

And Eddie wonders: could you get any more damn perfect? The suburban denim dream, the girl next door, the quintessential concoction of every teenage boy’s fantasy and every teenage girl’s desire… listens to metal music? And not just AC/DC or KISS (because everyone loves those guys), but the same music he’s grown up with and loved?

He can’t help but picture you in your bed, records spread out across your comforter as you switch between Dream Evil and Peace of Mind. Your limbs stretched out on the mattress, shirt riding up with nothing but black panties underneath as you rock out to his favorites.

Yeah. He’ll think about that one a lot.

“I definitely get it. I do, I really do. I love metal.” Eddie rambles, hoping to keep your attention by stalling this conversation as much as possible. You nod at him with those big, innocent eyes and roll your fleshy lip between your teeth, keen to every stupid word that falls from his tongue. “But hey, it can be our little secret, then.” He leisurely gravitates towards the van while you match his strides, taking note of his quavering pitch and the use of Eddie’s own hands waving through the air wildly as he attempts to withhold his nervousness. “And again, just for peace of mind, I didn’t mean to judge. I figured…”

“Madonna?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckles. Feels the anxiety in his stomach build even more. “Nothin’ wrong with Madonna, though. Sexy tunes. Can’t deny that.”

Sexy tunes. Come on, Munson.

But that draws a giggle right out of you, “Sexy tunes, indeed.” Then, you’re both leaning against the side of his van. No fence or Dustin coming between the two of you, just your sweaty bodies and Hawkins’ summer heat seeping through your thin clothes. You hold your palm out, fingers welcomingly outstretched. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

Eddie’s gaze bounces from your smaller hand to the doting expression on your face before gingerly enveloping it in his own. “Eddie. Edward. E-Eddie. You can…” You give him a gentle squeeze, a sure smile dusting over your lips. “You can just call me Eddie, or whatever. Whatever you want, Y/N.”

“Well,” You laugh again, and Eddie blushes profusely at the lighthearted noise. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Whatever.” You share another one of those looks, and he swears that this time — this time, your eyes do all the talking that needs to be done. “I think we’ll get along really well… Eddie.”

His name has never sounded so perfect out loud.

Eddie sees you again.

And again. Every time he drops Dustin off. Again. Leant against the side of his van. Talking and talking, until there’s nothing to talk about — but it’s rare. He always has something to talk about, even when his voice fails him and he stutters or stumbles over syllables because you’re so fucking pretty and he’s… he’s just Eddie. But you see him differently than the others, so he supposes that maybe being “just Eddie” isn’t such an awful thing after all.

Again, you talk. The sidewalk. Along the road. On your lawn. Sometimes, Eddie will even join you on your blanket, skim through your books and take note of what you read, then he’ll recommend “true” literature like Lord of the Rings or something else with elves and witches.

Summer has never felt so long.

Again.

Until again becomes every afternoon. Even on the days Dustin doesn’t need a ride home anymore. Even on the days he has to practice with his band at four, but he can always just come see you at three and drive back because it’s no big deal. Even on the days your parents say you need to stop talking to that Munson boy because he’s no good, but who fucking cares?

Again, anyways.

You’re not scared of him. He’s not scary. He never was.

And so afternoons turn into nights. And nights consist of sneaking out to Eddie’s van that he’s parked a few houses down the street, because God forbid he talks to the innocent girl next door. Innocent is one fat hoax. You’re smoking pot with him in the back of his fucking van for Ozzy’s sake, giggly and unrelenting as you sit next to each other and drench yourselves in the scent of weed and Eddie’s drugstore cologne while Metallica plays faintly in the background.

He’s all man, but soft with his eyes. Soft in the way he looks at you. Crude in the way he secretly desires you. Now that he knows you, really knows you, you aren’t just beautiful.

You’re completely devastating.

You take a long drag of his joint, wincing as the paper sizzles and burns orange. “Fuck, I wish I tried getting high sooner. You’re a horrible influence, you know that?”

Eddie hums with a toothy grin, fiddling with the pair of flimsy headphones in his lap. “And yet you still meet me back here every night.”

“Why do I even do that?”

“Um, ‘cause I got, like, really fucking good ‘A’ quality weed and impeccable taste in music.” He shrugs nonchalantly, eyes following the mold of your lips around the bud. “Easy there, tigress. Don’t hog it.”

“You said…”

“I said, you could have one hit. And now, I’m confiscating it.”

You groan in protest as Eddie leans over to your side of the van and snatches the blunt from you, tossing it into a mushroom shaped ashtray as he gazes at you curiously. “Since when did you become so mean to me?”

“Weed is meant to be treasured, Y/N. And plus, I’m always mean.”

He has to admit — there has been tension between the two of you ever since your afternoon catch-ups turned into late night talking. Maybe he’s imagining it, but surely you feel it too. The bubbling in his stomach when your elbows brush in such a confined space. The heat rushing to his cheeks when you laugh and place a hand on his thigh, or the dizzy rush flooding your forehead when he picks a flyaway strand of hair off of your shoulder. The increase in your heartbeats as you stare at each other for a minute too long, even sneaking in a second glance because you just have to.

“You know what you should treasure?” You quirk a brow at him. A smirk tugs upon your lips as you dig through your pocket and pull out a cassette tape, shaking it in front of Eddie’s face. “This week’s mix I made you.”

“My mix is better.” He flicks his walkman open, switching out the tape inside for the one you hand him. “Here’s yours, ma’am.”

And he supposes that no one really expected that his friendship with the girl next door would be founded on trading music with each other. Ever since you and Eddie found out your tastes were in alignment, you made it a goal to introduce new songs to him — Madonna included. Sexy tunes.

You think he could get used to the oddity of The Cure. He thinks he can convince you that Guns N’ Roses will eventually be a rock sensation. You’re skeptical. Maybe.

So you marinate in each other’s stagnant presence, leaning on opposite walls of his metal tin can of a van, holding your own walkmans with ears caressed by Koss headphones and lids shut as your heads bob to the acoustics. Eddie can’t help but crack an eye open, sneaking a peek at your chewed lip and your look of concentration.

“I like this one.” You pipe up, feeling his stare on you. He glances away before you can actually catch him, training his gaze on the mess of blankets behind the driver’s seat. “You know, your choices this week are very interesting, Munson.”

Suggestive. His choices are suggestive, is what you’re thinking. From the first to the last track, the list of songs messily etched onto the cassette with the most boyish handwriting you’d ever seen, you can only hope that the metalhead holds some sort of attraction for you in the same manner you do for him.

Eddie chuckles, and winces apologetically at you. “I still hate The Cure, by the way.”

You nod unconvinced, and pull one of the cups of your headphones away from your ear. There’s a smile of amusement, an interested dimple in your cheek. “And yet you included The Perfect Girl on here?”

“Only because it made me think of you.”

For once, he realizes that he has flustered you. Your jaw goes slack, your pupils widen, brows softening before your nose crinkles at him. “Shut up, Eddie.”

His palms raise in a peaceful surrender, ringed fingers wiggling adorably. “You asked, Y/N.” A beat. Then you’re playfully throwing a jacket at his face and squealing before he instinctively lunges forward at you, gentle hands pulling you back by the elbows. Despite the struggle, eventually he’s pinned to the floor of the van and you’re on top of him straddling his soft belly. “Get off, you monster!” He near-giggles, sputtering as his hair gets into his mouth and he feels your body racking with laughter.

“You’re so rude to me. Like the rudest. When has The Cure ever hurt you?” You pant out, chest rising and falling steadily as you both catch your breath. Eddie’s headphones haphazardly hug his head, walkman in the palm that rests above him. “Do you treat your girlfriend this way, hm?”

“No girlfriend.”

“Oh?”

“Mmm, I thought it was obvious.” He replies quietly, the sound comes out more like a soft moan rather than an agreement. His plushy lips are wet with saliva, tongue poking between the pink flesh as his eyes flicker from your parting mouth to your curious, swirling irises. “S’why I’m here with you.”

“So I’m the second choice is what you’re…”

“Please, you are farthest from the second choice, sweetheart.” Eddie laughs, ribs rumbling against his torso. Only then does he become hyper aware of the way your breasts push up against his shirt, the warmth of your skin intermixing with his, your nipples hardening against the thin white fabric of your camisole. Sweetheart, you repeat. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. “Do you have one?”

“A girlfriend?” You ask, tone playful and curious.

Careless Whisper echoes through his headphones; your mixtape is still looping through his walkman as you trail your fingers down his wrists and brace yourself on his chest.

Fucking hell. It’s ironic. It’s pathetic. George Michael needs to shut up. Why is this damned song on here? He’s struggling to think, struggling to focus on the words coming from your mouth, struggling to keep it in his pants because you keep shifting farther and farther away from his stomach, and more and more towards his crotch. Focus. Tune out that stupid saxophone.

“Sure.” He shrugs breathlessly, tingling with anticipation.

“Nope.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Not yet, no. Why is this a conversation, Eddie?” You bite your lip cheekily, knees planted firmly on either side of his lean body when you gaze down at him then survey the still-lit joint resting on his ashtray. Silence, then: “Can I have a hit? Please?”

Eddie glances at your lips, fixating on how your tongue darts out to lick at the sticky gloss. The moonlight casts a glow over your frame, highlighting the path of your curves through your tank top. And without really taking his eyes off of your beautiful face, his fingers reach for the blunt, a blush spreading across his chiseled cheeks when your hand brushes against his to grab it.

Please.

A sizzle rustles through the heavy air as you take a slow drag.

And Eddie can’t help himself. Not this time.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?”

You’re slowly tossing the perfectly-good blunt aside, leaning down and lazily grabbing Eddie gingerly by his chin.

He thinks you’re gonna kiss him.

And before he can lift his head to meet you, instead, you’re blowing a puff of smoke between his parted lips with an exhale. “Fuck… ing… heck…” He instantly groans, eyelids drooping as your ass pushes against him teasingly like you hadn’t just shotgunned into his goddamn mouth. Party trick. You flutter your lashes bashfully, dimples poking at your cheeks as Eddie gapes at you just inches away from your face. “Y/N, where the fuck did you… learn that?”

You sigh. “Eddie Munson, you just keep on underestimating me.”

“I really do, I really fucking do…” He huffs, knuckles turning white around his walkman as you sensually tug his headphones off. “I just — just thought you were…”

“Innocent? Oblivious? I may be your girl next door fantasy… or whatever the fuck you Hawkins boys think about me…” You smirk, taking Eddie’s much-larger hands into yours and placing them firmly on your hips. “… but I am not fucking blind… you’ve been acting so off this entire night, must need something to take the edge off, don’t you?”

Fucking Ozzy. He can’t take it. His lips tug into a wince. “That easy, huh?”

Red-handed, you coo. “The easiest.”

“So technically you’re calling me easy, then?” Eddie jokes, heart pounding against his chest as he tenderly digs his fingertips into your love handles.

This is what he’s wanted. This is it.

And it’s not a fucking dream at all. It’s absolutely heaven.

Just like heaven.

“Eh, I think it’s endearing. The way you…” He curses under his breath as you lean over and trail your mouth up his jawline, biting his earlobe. “… savor me… savor looking at me. The way you think I don’t notice your stare, when your eyes wander a couple inches down whenever I talk? Oh, you think you’re so slick. I’m not naïve. Why do you think we hang out in your van at night?”

He shudders when your teeth find the cool surface of the guitar pick around his neck. “You’re evil, sweetheart.”

“And you’re horny, but maybe I shouldn’t talk about that.”

“No, definitely…” Eddie laughs nervously, swallowing as he looks down at you. “Definitely not. I’m… fuck, I’m fine. I’m good.”

“Or, maybe I should.” Back and forth banter. It’s natural with you. Too natural, almost like it has always meant to be like this between the eager pair of you. You don’t kiss him, not yet. He can wait. “Acting like a gentleman, like my friend, when in reality you can’t help but think of banging me everytime we see each other?”

“M’sorry, okay? We are friends — fuck, Y/N. Can’t focus… can’t exactly t-talk when you’re on my lap like that.”

Heat pools to his lower stomach, breaths quickening as his hands mindlessly drift down to your upper thighs, squeezing your skin through your little shorts when you grind against him. “Like this? How does it feel? Touching me, feeling me on you like this?”

Eddie’s eyes are dark, almost black in the dim shadows of his van. He looks up at you with the most dilated, entranced look, and you swear it almost makes you break. “Feels… feels so nice. Warm. I just… fuck, I don’t… don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do… Y/N, goddamnit…”

“I think it’s both clear what we want, no?” You press a kiss to his cheek, running your thumb along the skin beneath his lower lashes. His self-control is slowly diminishing, inch by inch, he feels himself melting in your presence. “I stare, too, just so you know. I stare a lot.”

“Yeah?” Eddie lifts a shaky hand, nervously cupping your jaw and nudging his nose against yours. His voice ghosts your skin, raspy and more of a whimper than a command. “Tell me about it.”

Your mouth hovers over his, lips barely brushing against each other. Touching, touching, touching, only to pull away at the very last second. He can almost just taste the marijuana from your tongue, almost taste the honey dripping from your voice as you peck the corner of his lips. Almost. “I look at your arms, and your really cool tattoos, then I picture… where else you have them on your body…” You gasp into his ear as his hips rut into you, his fingers drawing shapes against the side of your face. “Picture your lips on my chest… kissing me, leaving marks… bruises, hickies, whatever you want, Munson. Your mouth between my — my thighs… tugging on your hair because you’d be so good to me, wouldn’t you?”

“M’want you so bad. You don’t know the half of it.” He whispers, stroking a knuckle across the shadow of your cupid’s bow. “Please… let me… fuck, let me kiss you. Please, Y/N. Want it so bad. Been wanting you ever since summer started. Makin’ me crazy, got me feeling like I’m insane with the way I just… just obsess over us.”

He’s earned it.

“Like I said, whatever you want.” You grin devilishly.

Eddie’s lips finally collide with yours, erotically wet and far from smooth. It’s incongruous, sweaty skin rubbing against each other and clothes rustling as Eddie sits up, your arms swaddling his lanky frame while you crane your neck to kiss him deeply. His hair is in your mouth, his nose smushed against the side of your face, strained groans slipping from his throat as he traverses down your neck, selfishly licking the divot of your collarbone before his palms are venturing under your camisole.

“You’re so fucking hot.” He whines, lashes fluttering against your thin bra as he pulls your top over your head. He’s mouthing at the cups, biting at the stringy lace of your push-up before he’s tugging the material down to reveal your nipples. “I just… fuck, I’m just in awe of you. You’re the perfect girl, and I get to have you.” He wraps his lips around the hardened bud, moaning as he alternates between the two and litters your flesh in dark hickies. You fist his hair, caving into his frame. “You’re so sexy. Just… fucking… took the words out of me, leavin’ me speechless… I’ll make you feel so f-fucking good if you let me.”

Your head rolls back as he kisses up the underside of your chin, meeting your lips in a more tender kiss. Your nails trail underneath his Iron Maiden ringer tee, lightly tracing over the raised scars on his abdomen, his belly, skimming over his sparse happy trail and the subtlety of his v-line. “You’re all talk, Eddie… wanna make me feel good?” He nods meekly, the veins in his neck flexing as you stroke his brow bone. “Think you should start by undressing me…”

“Christ, please.”

And without a beat, Eddie’s reaching around you to unclasp your bra, tossing it aside so that it lands over the back of the driver’s seat. He kisses his way down your belly, the little pudge when you sit, only for him to lay you down on your back, clumping up a bunch of jackets to make a pillow for your head. His fingers unbutton your shorts, tugging them down the length of your legs with your panties until they get caught on your Chucks.

He takes those off too. Quite frankly, chucks the Chucks across the van with a squeaky mutter of ‘goddamn shoes…’ before he’s pocketing a lineup of chunky rings into his jeans.

Eddie’s mouth makes up for the dorky mishap, his lips make haste against your tender calves, biting the squish of your thighs and nudging his nose against the glossy patches of arousal on the inside of your skin. He inhales the scent of your cunt, and you jerk with a moan of surprise as he kisses you there, open and fluttering for him while he lays on his stomach.

He’s never seen such a pretty pussy. It emboldens him, leaves him brazen and aching for more even though it’s the first time he’s ever seen you this naked. Even though he’s barely even had you, he still needs more.

“Need you so bad it hurts.” Eddie growls, looking up at you with a smirk as you gnaw on your bottom lip. “You’re just… fuck, how did you get this wet? God, you’re unreal, baby… let me? Please? Let me… let me eat it… I’ll do anything…”

Let me. Let me. Let me. It’s his mantra. You’d be lying if you deny that it stirs something animalistic within you.

You nod violently, biting down on your forefinger as he props you up against the wall of the van and parts your knees even further before he’s shoving his face into you. Your hands dart straight into his curls again, pulling and tugging until you’re holding him by a wiry ponytail, watching the eager way he suckles at the bundle of nerves just at the apex of your sex.

Eddie feels like a fucking virgin. Desperate. Impatient. Aggressive. He’s too excited — it displays itself when he slips two digits into your needy slit, taking in how you instantly buck against him. You need him. Need him in the same manner he needs this. His ego fires up as he drives his fingers further, running his tongue over and back and down your clit until your grip on his hair becomes suffocating.

“Having fun down there, h-hm?” You croak. Even with his head buried between your thighs, you’re mischievous, challenging, witty. He’d fuck the brains out of you if he could, but honestly, he isn’t even sure if he could survive one second with his cock in your little fist. “Fuckkk. You’re makin’ me feel so good, Eds…” Your head hits the metal wall, a soft bang that goes unnoticed with all the squelching and creaming as Eddie scissors his fingers.

“You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect, I love the way you look right now, s’fucking hot… could cum just by watching you.”

“Yeah? Just wait — just fucking wait till I suck you off.”

Eddie can’t wrap his thoughts around it. His tongue, his hands, where he’s buried inside you. He’s wanted this, ever since the start of summer, and he’s here with the girl he thought was untouchable — the perfect girl with a perfect, filthy secret that is him.

You’re grinding your mound against his mouth, quivering jaw unhinged in the darkness of his large van. His eyes flicker up to your tits, slick with his spit and your own as a dribble of saliva falls from your lips, tainting your skin.

For once, you aren’t put-together. He’s ripping your façade apart at the seams and leaving nothing to sew back.

“You’re a fucking mess, Y/N… oh, I do this to you?” He’s touching you till you’re vibrating and mewling. He’s lapping every drop of you up, tasting you permanently on his lips as he prods at your clit. “Fuck, honey…” Eddie bites you, hard enough to nurse a bruise on the inside of your thigh. “Please cum for me, yeah? Jus’ look how wet I’ve gotten you, sweetheart… you’re practically — oh, my god… you’re practically gaping… you wanna cum that bad?”

You really can’t help it. Not when he’s cooing at you with that whiny voice, teasing and suggestive as your cunt spasms over his pink knuckles. Your hips rise from the carpet flooring, and Eddie leaves another bite-mark on your stomach as slick trickles out of you. You don’t moan. You don’t scream, nor cry. Just a broken whimper and a restrained, quiet utterance of Eddie’s name beneath your breath.

Somehow, it makes his cock pulse even harder.

He gently kisses your cunt, running a soothing tongue over the bruises he’s left and the dip in where your hip meets your thigh. “Fuck, that was hot.” He smells the aftermath of your orgasm, really smelling you this time, and it ends up driving him nuts. “Oh, Y/N… your pussy…” You follow his gaze, letting out a lewd sound as Eddie admires the puffiness of your folds, swollen and open from his work. You jolt as soon as he tries to spread you. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry, d-didn’t mean to get so damn rough with you. You tasted so fucking nice, s’all.”

“No, I…” You brush his hair away from his face, pushing his bangs aside as he sits up and wedges himself between your knees. “I love rough. I can take it. I can take this.” Your other hand palms him through his jeans, before you’re dipping yourself beneath his waistband, hairs prickling at your skin as you grasp him. “Do you want me to be rough with you, Eds? Because I just… I really, really want your cock, and I… I dunno if I can hold myself back…”

“Oh, you little slut.” He gasps brazenly as you pull his shirt off, eyes wide at your sudden conviction for him, “Take it. Take me, Y/N. I’m all yours, whatever you fucking want.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby.”

You smirk, helping him kick off his jeans and boxers. Your cunt pathetically gapes for him once he’s bare, contracting around nothingness as Eddie takes your place against the wall. He leans back, and you just stare — drinking him in the same way he drinks you in. Your puffy nipples, still damp from his spit, your darkened neck a testament to his artistry, your mouth parting in awe as you fit his erect cock into your hand. Barely.

He’s big — lengthwise, and it curves heavily in your grasp as you lean down to pop him between your lips. Eddie nearly knees you, palms flying to cover his face as he desperately cries your name. “Y/N… oh, f-fucking… oh, Jesus…” You rake your nails up and down his thighs, licking a stripe up his manhood as you play with his sopping tip.

You chuckle in amusement around him, “Such a leaky cock. You like that, Eds? Mmm, you messy boy. All this pre-cum and I’ve… aw, I’ve barely touched you. Tell me what feels good, ‘kay?”

“S’all of it… all of it is — it’s good… fuck, words are so… words…” He melts even more as you sheathe him into your mouth, stuttering as he feels you hold back a gag. Your whole body convulses, back arching upwards as Eddie watches you take and take and take. “Oh, Y-Y/N… you just keep — keep getting better and better. Holy shit.” His belly aches with desire, tightening with each bob of your head and every seductive blink of your eyes. “You’re gorgeous. Thought about you.. whenever you’d — mmm, whenever you’d lay out on that darn lawn, what if I took you right there? What if I just… fucked you on that grass…”

“You and your dirty mouth, Munson.” You glare up at him in feigned annoyance, jerking his shaft with fast, purposeful movements. “I think it’s funny… how you pretend like you’re such a nice guy when really, you’re only a perv for me.”

“So what? Are you gonna punish me?” He challenges beadily, tongue poking out between gritted teeth like he could win this fight. “Or are you gonna fuck me, pretty girl?”

And just like that, the air changes. He feels the shift, the veil that falls over your eyes, nothing but sex and his scent running in your mind.

“No, Eds.” You move to straddle his thigh; your bare cunt dragging against his scarred skin. “I’m gonna make you beg.”

You take him into your fist again, stroking him between the generous suction of your lips and the sweep of your tongue. He tastes good to your surprise, and then you’re creating a pool of spit that trickles from his abdomen to his balls.

Messy girl. “Christ, Y/N.”

You release him with an erotic pop! — there’s stringy saliva connecting you to the crown of his cock, your throat is raw, his dick impatient, twitchy and excited. “You wanna fuck me so bad, you can’t even think straight. Look at my hand right now, look how tiny it looks when I hold you…” You grind yourself against his knee, groaning with him as you quicken your pace. Your brows furrow, a wicked grin ghosting itself over your features. “Baby, are you going to cum already?”

“Y/N, don’t s-stop. I’m beggin’ you, please…”

“Oh, you’re begging? This is what you call begging?”

“Please, s’too hard.”

“Too hard? What’s too hard? Me not letting you cum, or…” You give him one good jerk, twisting your fist so that your thumb brushes over his white-coated tip. “… your cock? Because you’re awfully, awfully rock hard right now. I bet it hurts doesn’t it, my love?” My love. His eyes gloss over. Your mouth hugs the shell of his ear. “You wanna cum?”

“Y-Yes…” He near-whimpers. Desperate. “Wanna cum so badly.”

“No.”

You release him for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. His climax dwindles back to square one, and his leg thrashes out in dismay. There’s sweat beading down your forehead, drops forming on Eddie’s brow bone as he scowls at you.

You kiss him, almost like an apology, but Eddie can tell you’re not sorry. Far from it. You enjoy this, enjoy getting him off just to start over and make him beg. Is it so sick that he likes it? The more you stretch this interaction out, the more he gets to touch you. Like now, as you swing your knees on either side of him, his palm gingerly clasping the nape of your neck as he presses your face to his.

“Let me fuck you? Let me be inside?” He pleads, nudging his nose against yours in anguished yearning. He drags his hand over your cheek, enveloping your jaw with outstretched fingers. “Just wanna bury myself inside you and stay there. Don’t even wanna cum anymore, I promise. I promise I’ll fuck you so good, m’not pathetic like the other guys… wanna feel you jus’ dripping on me, Y/N.”

You don’t answer, just gasp into his parted mouth as you line each other up. The angry head of his cock catches on your swell, snagging your clit before his tip lodges itself inside you and he — quite literally — goes rigid. You curse, slowly sinking down his length until your pussy refuses to take more.

“You’re s-so big.”

Eddie feels like he’s going to fucking burst. “Sweetheart,” He pants, panicked and frenzied as you squeeze around him. Your head lolls onto his shoulder, arms thrown around his body as he tangles his slender fingers into your scalp and pulls you impossibly closer to his chest. “Sweetheart, I can feel every p-part of you… you’re so — fuck, just like that, you wet messy thing.” He whines, the curve of your ass coming down against his lap as you keenly bounce on his cock. He meets you with gentle thrusts, your cunt already milking him thin. “Look at you, fuck, you’re loving this.”

“E-Eddie…” Your tits are squished against his pecs, his necklace sandwiching itself between your damp skin. “More. More. Give it…”

“You can’t take it, baby. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I can take it. I can. It’s not enough, I’m telling you.” You rut your hips stubbornly, guiding his palms to your waist before he’s carefully rolling you onto your side and hiking your calf over the tender slope of his shoulder. “S’not nearly enough, Eds.”

“Okay.” He breathes out, inhaling deeply as he slips himself deeper inside you. The stretch stings harshly, flashes of white prickling at the cones of your vision as he splits you raw and wide open. “Is this enough? You fuckin’… god, you perfect whore…” Your spine tingles as Eddie tugs you closer by the hip, ramming himself into you relentlessly. “… such perfect tits, a perfect leaky cunt…” He presses a kiss to your ankle, before flipping you onto your knees so that he can fuck you from behind. He wants to see you, see you flutter for him, feed his sick thoughts and relive the nights where he jerked himself off in this very van in empty parking lots to the idea of you. “… and this perfect ass… another hole waiting to be used, right, Y/N? You’d let me use it, wouldn’t you? If I’m nice enough, I bet you’d let me fuck it…”

Fucking hell.

You cum as soon as he dips the pad of his thumb against the responsive ring of muscle. You both grow feral at the sensation. Soaked. Pussy chafed raw from his cock. You can’t tell whose fluids are whose, if it’s Eddie’s spit or yours, if it’s your juices or his — the embarrassing manner in which your cunt just sucks him in, the tight walls of your ass fluttering around his gentle finger as he drives into you.

How is the van still upright? Eddie doesn’t know.

He’s an Ozzy clusterfuck of strangled, broken sounds and you’re a broken record player of Eddie-Eddie-Eds-Please, I’m cumming!

He doesn’t stop. Even when you’re shaking and bent-half in now missionary, he sheathes himself inside you till his pelvic bone is crushed to your body. “You feel so good, I’m sorry… I can’t — can’t stop, baby…”

“Don’t. Don’t stop, it’s a-alright.” You heave out, interlocking fingers as his glistening cock disappears into your used cunt. “It’s a l-lot, but it’s okay.” Eddie’s body engulfs you, your heels digging into the dimples in his lower back as he pounds into you. “You’re such a good — good boy, fuck…”

“Yeah?” He bites your throat. “Say.” The under-swell of your boob. “It.” Your arm. “Again.”

“Good boy. Such a good boy, fucking me the way I deserve.”

“Fucking you like you’re a slut.”

“Fucking me like I’m not the girl next door…” You chuckle, breathy and airy before he knocks the wind right out of you. “The whole town is gonna call me a w-whore for once.”

“Suits you better.”

You swear your soul leaves your body. You’re dying. You are dead, nearly limp in his fumbling boyish hands as he cradles your head against his chest and wipes the sweat from your eyes like he loves you. His balls slap against your loosened rim, his thumb putting pressure on your clit until you’re frantically pushing him away.

“I can’t cum again. I can’t.” You sob in pleasure, clawing at his tattoos as if they could save you from his insatiable hunger. “Eddie!”

“Need it, need your cum again, Y/N.” Eddie growls, thrusts stuttering and cock pulsating wildly before he’s spitting onto your sex as if you needed to be any more wet. “I-I think you’re so… so fucking cool, you’re just… you’re too good for me, but I fucking adore you.”

I adore you.

You can’t even talk anymore, vocal chords ripped right out of your throat as your stomach cramps, cramps, cramps and then drops to a low point. Crashing. Flatlining. Clenching hopelessly.

You nearly choke Eddie as a hand flies out to touch him, pulling him close as your walls trap him for a second time. Only now, he’s locked in tight, unable to move, unable to go anywhere and he fucking cums immediately because it’s just too inviting. You feel him seeping out of you, painting your holes with his sticky cum as he stills there like a good boy. He grunts against your lips, kissing you poorly as his orgasm eats him alive.

He’s milked. Spent.

Eddie collapses on top of you, one leg jutted straight and the other bent as he embraces you close with his whole weight resting on your frame. How can he already miss something he just had? Gaining your strength, you kiss down his shoulder, fingertips swirling over muscle and scar tissue and ink as the smell of him floors you.

It’s so Eddie. Woody, earthy, with a spicy fresh top note reminiscent of oak moss and a hint of gasoline, dry cedar and herbs. It makes you dizzy in the best way possible. He’s drenched in the girlish smell of sex, sweat and salty but you’re eager to taste him anyways.

My good boy, you think.

“Are you okay?” Your voice comes out raspy and winded, almost sickly but Eddie knows it's a good-sick.

“Yes, yeah. I just… need a sec.”

“Hm, don’t take too long, Munson.” Shit. Is this over already? Just like that? “Might get wet again.”

Oh. It’s a joke.

And he laughs, wheezy and exhausted as he irritatedly tugs his own hair out of his mouth. “You’re gonna be the death of me, ma’am.” He leans back on his hinges to properly look at you, your cheeks rubbed red-raw from his teeth and your abused, achy cunt still stuffed full of his prick. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alive.”

“Barely.”

“Barely.” You repeat heartily, shaking your head at him with a look of bewilderment. “S’gonna hurt when you pull out, you know.”

“Are you telling me to stay here forever?”

“If you admit that you like The Cure, then yes…” You bite your lip, drumming your fingers against his wrist. “… I’ll let you stay there forever.”

Forever. You both push down the giddy, cheesy smiles that threaten to spread across your faces.

“Never. Never ever.” Eddie chuckles. When he tenderly and patiently pulls out, a wet rush slowly floods out of you, his fingers frantically plug you shut — his thick, translucent cum dripping from his knuckles as he selfishly fucks his hot spill back into you like the perv he is. “But that can stay there forever.”

A freak, but not in the way Hawkins thinks.

You melt at the feeling, limbs spasming awkwardly as he spreads himself over your pussy distractedly. His eyes are so goddamn soft, kind, attentive — even when he’s pushing some of it into your poor asshole, he’s still the sweetest guy you’ve ever hooked up with.

He kisses your clit before he lovingly hikes your panties up your legs.

Fucker.

“Did I ruin you, sweetheart? Awfully quiet.”

You scoff, shimmying into your shorts and camisole as Eddie tucks himself back into his boxers. “Just wondering how you expect me to climb back into my window after all that.”

“Who said anything about climbing…” He laughs boisterously, leaning over and fixing the strap of your bra. “What do you say I walk you to the porch, ring that bell and introduce myself to mom and pop?”

You stare at him like he’s crazy.

“Absolutely not, Eddie Munson.”

He finds himself liking the suburbs a lot more.

Only this time, he doesn’t imagine himself surrounded by picket fences and golden retrievers, mailboxes with his last name painted in unreadable cursive or having to mow his front lawn at seven in the fucking morning.

Eddie doesn’t need to when Hawkins’ slice of paradise is just next door.

And he gets to taste it every fucking day and night.

So, fuck it. He’ll climb your window so you don’t have to wobble back to your house with his cum dripping down your leg. He’s a gentleman, railing you in the abandoned parking lot of Starcourt because you can’t handle the embarrassment of getting caught by someone at home. He’ll cover your mouth in the shed in your backyard so the neighbors don’t complain about the howling coyotes that have gone loose in the neighborhood.

God forbid they have coyotes, right?

But really, they should be worrying about the devastatingly gorgeous girl next door and her favorite, good boy with a dwindling hatred for The Cure.

Even though, the album is growing on him.

He’ll never admit that, though.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things fluff #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things season 4

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wonryllis · 22 days

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✶ 𝟭𝟳𝟳𝟱 (𝓥 ) SATAN'S IMAGINATION, AGENT ENHYPEN.

. . ──𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗇𝖾𝗋.

﹙ 𝒘𝐞𝐛 ⭑ 𝒅𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝓁𝓈. ﹚ agent!enhypen hanging on that line between act and reality with AGENT!fem!r. fluff, suggestive. wordcount`1261. アーカイブ ARCHIVE?

PLS REBLOG!!!!

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 he feels his breath caught in a dangerously thin line between staying professional and kissing the hell out of you, your body pressed against him between the narrow shelves. he's probably at fault for blowing your cover earlier but all he can think about right now is the way the light through the windows make your glossed lips glow and your messy hair look sensual. each inhale and exhale a battle against his self-control. "do you think they noticed?" your voice sounds more tempting than ever in the low whisper you let out against his chest and heeseung swears he's fighting demons right now. "i hope not," he sighs heavy, feeling himself leaning into you, getting carried away as his conscience slowly slips and cracks. lips almost brushing when you suddenly look up, wide eyes boring into his,"i think they just walked past," unaware and painfully oblivious of what your partner was about to do to you. of how he was ready to devour you.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 with the biggest lovesick smile ever, jay watches you act coy in your character, gently excusing yourself to the washroom. "act like you want me, but more like you love me," your soft words tingle his ear as you discreetly whisper to him just before you leave the dinner table. are you dense or are you just too professional? there is no way you think the look on his face isn't already giving away his feelings to all these people around the table you're supposed to fool. he chuckles deep and smitten as he stands seconds after,"i apologize gentlemen, but my love needs my help," excusing himself as well. with each step he takes towards you, he realizes the wicked idea you have in your wicked little brain. his heart skipping beats and blood rushing everywhere when you throw yourself at him, dragging him to bathroom with your lips hovering over his making sure the targeted people get a glimpse of it and get the wrong idea.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 jake grins wider as your palm presses flat against his chest first and then fingers curl to mimic a gun, your tips emulating a spark of electricity through his veins, feeling the blood pump harder in his heart. "you better not take advantage of our cover to steal kisses, sim," it is crazy how he feels disappointed yet amused at the same time, you doing this right now is the hottest thing ever but you refusing to let him kiss you later is a tad bit upsetting plus you knowing he loves to do that has him dazed. "can't promis—" his breath gets knocked out mid sentence as you grab him by his tie and smash your lips together in a sloppy and short kiss. "that's is all you can have for the night, focus on the mission agent three," now that was hotter than the hottest thing you could have ever done to him, and you decide to do it right before work. oh how he wishes he had kissed back harder and show you just what you'd be missing out on later.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 his eyes scan across your rather overly feminine dressed figure amble over to him, stance seductive and alluring in the red cocktail gown he helped you pick hours ago. "that was disgusting," he says as soon as you stop beside him. he was glad the mission was successful and he was so glad he picked this dress for you. feeling a sense of pride that he has always been the first one to see you dolled up and that he has always been your date and that he has always been gotten to take you home at the end of night. the only thing he feels jealous about right now is that while he has always been all that, it has always been the targets who get to feel you all up and who get to see your siren side showing them how it would be if you were interested in them. "well it wasn't for you anyway, mr hotshot," you bite back and sunghoon almost breaks on the verge of exposing that he'd die for it to him, for you to seduce the heck out of him.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎 the hawk-like focus sunoo had on you seemed so normal to you both, you didn't even realize when it turned into something possesive and unfitting for agents just working together. perhaps it was for the reason that you two had been paired up together for couple missions, or perhaps it was because you both trained together everyday. there was this sense of belonging you had developed, unaware of how it was changing things in your work dynamics. "your gaze is so fake, come on baby i know you can give a more sultry one, remember our practice?" sunoo speaks through the in-ears, his eyes locked with yours across the other end of the vip club, watching you try to seduce the target. the sparkle of tension crackling in the air as you held the eye contact, sunoo's ego blasting at the back of his mind knowing he's the only one who's seen the real thing. "just imagine it's me, and finish it up so you can actually come back to me,"

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 his gaze is envious and bitter, feeling his blood boil over the revelation you just made. "so you know him well?" the tone being one of grudge and spite, he continues to watch you strap on the weapons around you body. places under your dress where one would probably not have the chance to touch, unless it's him. which amplifies his jealousy to a staggering height at the realization that the target you are chasing this time probably has touched you in those places before. maybe even more than he has. the dismissive nod you respond with, makes jungwon's impatience fly through the roof, walking closer to trap you against the table where the weapons laid. "better than me?" the air thickens with implication of his words, jungwon himself is unaware what the undertone of it means. if it's how well you know him or if it's something entirely different, something that makes him want to leave kisses down your neck like he did the last time.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 his breath is laboured as he helps you rush out the pool, your fancy dress drenched and heavy weighing you down more than he'd anticipated. quickly you both find a spot in the showers to hide, squeezing into a single booth. he's brisk and sharp, giving you a hand in stepping out your wet dress into the latex suit underneath. letting you put your weight on him, your hands holding onto his body while you undo the strings and sleeves. the possibilities of getting caught are on high alert yet riki can't find it in him to focus on anything besides you. the way you look so hot in your agent attire, your hair wet and sticking to the sides of your face making you appear so cute in contrast to you getting ready to fight men a step outside the door. he has always found it so attractive, and the thought of admitting it openly just makes him more dazed. his fingers reach out to push away the strands around your eyes and lips, thumb brushing a second longer on your lips, "i really wanna kiss you right now," he whispers into your ears, lips grazing against it softly.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @ro-diaries

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another-lost-mc · 1 year

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When They Go Down on You Headcanons | THE DEMON BROTHERS 1.9k words | NSFW | afab!Reader | Smutty Content warnings: Typical demon possessiveness, mentions of teasing and overstimulation, demon forms mentioned (Lucifer, Leviathan), marking (Satan), 69 mentioned (Belphegor) A/N: Read [Part 2 - The Dateables] HERE

LUCIFER

Lucifer grins wickedly with satisfaction when he lays you on his sheets, positioning your legs over his shoulders so your soft thighs can squeeze against him while he feasts on you. His hands massage the fat of your hips, your belly, and your breasts, desperate to touch you as much as possible. He traces the shape of his name around your clit with his tongue, over and over again, until you're completely spent, throat hoarse and body trembling beneath him.

Sometimes you think he knows you better than you know yourself; he's slow and soft some days, and other times he's ravenous. You run your fingers through his hair lazily when you sigh, content with the slow, syrupy pleasure that seeps through you. Or, you arch your back and grasp his sheets, your cries pitching higher as hot, aching need builds between your legs. He thinks your pleasure is beautiful, and he swears he can come untouched from listening to the sounds he draws from you.

If you dare to look down your body where he rests between your legs, all you can see are his ruby eyes blazing into yours. Even if you close your eyes, you can't possibly forget who’s devouring you like a demon starved. You can hear the loud, wet sounds when he mouths against you. Occasionally, his black wings spread out behind him and snap with the tension of holding himself back, his own desire for you building in him like an inferno. He must be patient; he wants you to come on his tongue alone, over and over again, before he fills you with his cock. He’s going to give you everything you beg him for, because he’s the only one that can truly satisfy you.

MAMMON

Mammon doesn’t care when, or how, or who’s on top - the hunger for you burns inside him, and even the smallest, most innocent gestures you make throughout the day send his mind reeling. He has to be creative because when he craves you, he doesn’t have patience to find a bed, or even a flat surface. He’ll take you on the hood of his car, over the sofa in the living room, or against a wall. Today, his bedroom door will have to do.

As soon as his door closes he’s crowding you against it, dropping to his knees and prying open your thighs so he can bury his face against you. He groans when he traces your slit through your clothes and he can already feel how soaked you are for him. He mutters insincere apologies if he rips something, yanking your clothes down just enough to get to your bare skin. He can’t wait anymore.

He buries his face against your mound, fingers spreading your folds wide so he can swipe his tongue across your pretty hole and spread the sweet slick up around your clit. He moans greedily when your fingers tangle in his hair and you scratch your nails along his scalp. His hands hold you steady when your thighs buckle; he’ll always be there to catch you when you fall.

LEVIATHAN

When Leviathan wants to go down on you, you lay down on the soft pillows inside his tub and spread your legs to give him plenty of room. He wasn’t a virgin when you met him, but he was a little shy and awkward in the beginning of your relationship. You wanted to let him have as much control as possible, to give him the space to explore your body while giving him an easy way to pull back and stop if he got overwhelmed. You figured letting him lay - or kneel - between your legs was the best way to do that.

What you didn’t anticipate was that he would grow addicted to having this kind of power over you. He’s sloppy when he licks at your folds and sucks on your clit, and when you whimper his name, he fills your needy hole with two thick fingers. He wraps his tail around your leg to keep you from moving too much - he has you exactly where he wants you. When you come on his tongue - loudly, with your back arching against him - he leans forward crashes his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue while his tail creeps slowly up the inside of your thighs, teasing the empty space where his fingers used to be.

SATAN

Satan wants to take his time with you, but sometimes it's easier said than done. His love can burn hot and fast, like his rage often does, and it consumes you. When his mind is cloudy with the anger that churns deep within him, his ministrations are fast and sloppy and desperate, his fingers pumping in and out of you while he sucks bruises into your thighs. Once he's satisfied you're marked properly, he replaces his fingers with his tongue. When you're finally spent, you try to clench your thighs closed, weak and trembling from his attentions. His hands keep you still so he can spread your legs open even wider. He loves watching the way your folds grow slick and creamy every time he makes you come; he needs to see for himself that you're truly satisfied.

As much as the devilish side of him enjoys the sound of your wails while he’s tongue-deep inside you, he also likes to be slow and deliberate. Sometimes he wants pleasure to wash over you gently like a wave coming onto shore. He flicks the hood of your clit with the tip of his tongue, teasing you at first with pressure that's not quite enough and not quite where you want it. He wants to feel your body move with his as he slowly builds the sensations within you. When your whimpers and pleas grow too much for him to bear, then - only then - will he give you what you want.

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus is insatiable for you. You’ll be begging him to stop long before he’s had his fill; he can't get enough of you. He doesn’t always have the luxury of time and privacy to take you apart thoroughly and properly the way he wants to, but when he does? You’re going to be a whimpering, trembling mess by the time he’s finished.

He flops back on his bed, dragging you down with him and holding your hips while you straddle his waist. He likes to start slow, kissing your mouth softly and humming against your lips. You're so sweet. It doesn't take long for his soft, tentative kisses to become messy and passionate. It’s only the promise of what’s to come next that forces him to stop chasing the taste of your mouth. He’s still hungry for more.

He pulls your hips forward, urging you up his body so you’re straddling his face. He presses a trail of open-mouthed kisses against the insides of your thighs, and you’re already shaking with anticipation and subtly trying to grind down against his face.

By the time his lips find your clit and flicks it with his tongue, one of your hands is gripping his hair while the other is holding onto the headboard of his bed. He has an arm wrapped around your thigh to steady you; the other hand trails up your belly so he can fondle your breast and tease your nipple between his fingertips. He smiles against your folds when you moan his name, and only when you’re drained of pleasure - and the lower half of his face is saturated with your slick - does he finally let you go.

BEELZEBUB

Beelzebub's hunger for you drives him to distraction more than any craving for food ever has. As much as he’d like to pull you down to the ground and dive between your thighs whenever the mood suits him, he wants you to be comfortable when he does it. He likes to kneel at your feet when you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, or his bed, or the sofa, or the workout bench in the gym - anywhere he can make himself cozy between your legs and worship you with his mouth the way you deserve.

He tries to savor you, teasing both of you with the last bit of self control he has. He kisses your thighs and breathes in the scent of your arousal like it's ambrosia. He loves the way you run your fingers through his hair and you hum when he touches you, gently at first, like you’re something precious to him. It’s not long before his restraint inevitably crumbles. He runs his finger along your folds, nearly drooling at the sight of creamy slick that coats his fingertip. He dips his finger into your entrance, and you can’t help but stare into his eyes when he brings it to his mouth and licks it clean.

His eyes darken at the taste of you, and the low growl in his throat is your last warning. He leans forward and pulls your body to him so he can drag his tongue along your folds and around your clit. He sucks the delicate skin between his lips and groans with his own satisfaction when you shudder. His hands on your hips encourage you to grind against his face. You’re a literal feast for his senses; all he can feel is your warm, plush thighs holding him in place while he savors the taste of you on his tongue.

BELPHEGOR

Belphegor lays back on a pile of pillows on his bed in the attic so you can straddle his waist, and he crooks his finger at you to scoot a little closer. He nudges you to turn around and your mouth just so happens to hover over his hard, weeping cock. When he grabs your hips and pulls you down towards his smirk, he makes it seem like he’s doing you a favour. His bratty ruse only lasts for so long, though. He teases your clit with lazy, open-mouthed kisses and slow drags of his tongue along your folds. He moans against you when he feels the vibrations of your pleased, muffled sounds around his cock.

Even though he enjoys the silky glide of your lips around him and the way your tongue circles the tip of his cock, what he really loves is to see you lose control. It doesn't take long before you give up altogether and let him slip from your mouth so you can moan in earnest. (He knows you'll return the favour later.)

He focuses on flicking his tongue against your entrance, encouraging you to rock back against his mouth so he's even closer . He doesn't stop until you make more of those gorgeous sounds for him. He wants you to feel how greedy he is when he laps at your hole and dips his tongue inside, teasing your fluttering walls with a hint of what’s to come later. He wants you to hear the obscene, squelching sounds as he laps at your slick like he’s starving for it. He wants you to hear the wet sounds his tongue makes when he circles your clit before he sucks on it just right.

After you ride out the aftershocks and squirm out of his grip, he lays back with a sigh. He waits for you to you turn around and when you finally face him, eyes bright and glazed over, he smacks his lips so he can watch you get flustered all over again.

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books-and-catears · 7 months

Text

Solomon: I have been having a strange feeling lately...

MC: What feels strange?

Solomon: For the past few days, people have been nicer than usual lately, even Barbatos is quiet rather than insulting to my face like usual.

MC: Is that so?

Solomon: Yes even Lucifer and the others seemed less irritable when I asked if you could take a few days off from working at HOL, usually they make such a fuss!

MC: That's great news, isn't it? Finally they are treating you with the respect you deserve. Now you relax your head while I get dinner started.

Solomon: *staring at MC* How odd....

Luke: Solomon, psst! Solomon!

Solomon: Luke? What are you doing at the window? At this hour??

Simeon: No worries I'm with him.

Solomon: Simeon too? Goodness...what is going on?

Luke: MC got angry is what happened! They cast a spell on the entirety of HOL, RAD and even the Demon Lord's Castle!

Solomon: What? But I didn't detect any malicious magic in any of those places.

Simeon: Yes well...that's because the spell is meant to affect anyone else but you.

Luke: MC cursed anyone who dares to badmouth you to lose their voice for 3 days. And if they still try to communicate something bad about you, they will immediately get a sharp stinging pain within their throat.

Solomon: ...

Solomon: *blushes and bursts out laughing* MC! Ahahhaah!

MC: *annoyed* Have things gotten so bad at HOL lately that the angels have come to rat me out?

Simeon: MC please you have to lift the curse. Luke, Raphael, Asmo and I are the only ones who can talk in the house.

MC: Wait even Beel?

Simeon: No he still has his voice, he's just silent to be in solidarity with Belphie.

Luke: And every time anyone else needs something, it turns into a game of charades!

Luke: Yes! Only yesterday it took us an hour to figure out that Mammon was asking us to hide him from Lucifer and not a huge five horned monster with large nails and teeth!

Simeon: And Asmo who is actually faster at understanding his brothers asks them to do his errands in exchange for help. It's an utter mess.

Solomon: Pfft-

Luke: And the other day we accidentally gave Satan salt instead of sugar for morning pancakes and he destroyed the kitchen so we could only eat takeout!

MC: *smiling triumphantly*

Simeon: And uh...we also have a letter from Diavolo who is currently in detention. Apparently he has been misinterpreting Barbatos's orders of finishing his work on purpose and sneaking out of the castle!

Luke: Please MC, living in a house with 7 demons is already hard enough!

MC: ... alright very well. I'll go dispell the curse tomorrow morning. You can eat here today, I'm making dinner.

Luke: Yaay! No more instant ramen!

Solomon: *leaning on the kitchen door watching MC work*

MC: *humming happily*

Solomon: Hey MC

MC: Yes Solomon, from outside the kitchen please.

Solomon: ...I love you too.

MC: *blushes and looks away*

#obey me #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me mammon #obey me Barbatos #obey me Lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me solomon x reader

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mammonsrockstargf · 10 days

Text

Satan would love goodreads.

He sees you one day, reviewing a book on your phone in the living room of HOL. He stands behind where you're sitting on the couch, peering over your shoulder, watching your finger press the four stars on the book you just read.

“What’s that?” he asks. You look back and smile at him, showing him your D.D.D. He leans down curiously, resting his hands on the back of the sofa while reading the words on your screen.

“It’s an app where I can rate the books I read,” you say. He reaches for your phone and looks at you for approval which you give with a nod.

He scrolls the app, checking out your reviews. “Isn’t it smart? You can give the books stars and write reviews and then you can look back on what you’ve read!” you exclaim, gesturing excitedly with your hands. Satan's gaze flickers from his phone to you and a light blush grazes his cheeks when he catches your excitement over books. “Yeah, that’s pretty cool,” he says, giving you back your phone while clearing his throat.

Now, Satan doesn’t really think he needs Goodreads. Demons have an excellent memory and most of the books on the app are human books, so he’d have to write in Devildom books manually, but he figures it wouldn’t be all that bad to download the app just so he can see your reviews. Plus, he does read a lot of books…

And boy, does he write the most scalding reviews. Everytime you see him rate a new book, you get genuinely concerned for the authors well being if Satan didn’t like the book.

I have lived for thousands of years and will live for thousands more and yet I wish I could regain the six hours I wasted on this horrible book.

I would rather spend a decade chained to Lucifer himself than read this horrible pile of shite again.

The plot was bland as fuck and the language barely did anything to make up for it, what a sad excuse for literature.

You come to look forward to these reviews, giggling whenever he gets particularly brutal. It’s a side of him you hardly ever see.

One day you recommend him a bad book on purpose, just to see what he’ll do. It’s quite easy to blind side him because Satan hardly ever checks on what’s new in the human literature world.

When you get to notification that he’s read it, you immediately press it, excited to see what he’s said, only to find the review relatively… tame?

Your brows furrow as you read the half-assed text, complimenting the plot twist at the end. “Didn’t see it coming.” It reads and you shake your head. That plot twist had been some of the absolute worst you’ve ever read. You’d been excited to see Satan tear it apart and call on the lazy ending.

You recommend him another book that you’re sure he’ll hate. Once again, the review is fine. Even the small following Satan has gained on the app seems confused.

This book is fucking horrible, why did he give it three stars?

Yeah, I followed him for his brutally honest reviews, but this is just weird.

You recommend him a bad book for the third time, just for good measure. “There’s no way he’ll be able to pretend to like this one,” you think as you innocently bat your eyes lashes at him and give him the book. Satan hesitates for a bit, looking down at the book. Then he sends you a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, I’ll give it a go.”

You’re lying in bed when Satan barges into your room. “Satan, what are you-“ he plops the book down in front of you on the bed and crosses his arms. “Are you doing this on purpose?” A smile tugs at your lips before you think better of it and quickly fake a confused expression.

“What? I would never!” you say and he rolls his eyes and begin pacing your room. His fists are rolled into tight balls, knuckles turning white. He’s kind of hot like this you realize.

“Did you not like the book?” you ask and he stops pacing to just stare at you for a few seconds. “Are you serious? It made me want to rip my fucking eyes out!” he shouts and you giggle.

Satan feels like he’s going insane. Are you toying with him or something?

“What’s going on?” he asks and you shrug, sending him a mischievous smile. “I didn’t mean to tease you…” you say. “I just liked your reviews on bad books, so I thought I’d recommend you a bad book on purpose,” you begin to explain. Satan's mouth slightly opens and his brows raise at you.

“But then your reviews were so nice all of a sudden so I just kept recommending-“ You’re interrupted by Satan's manic laughter. He’s glaring at the ceiling, looking kind of insane in all honesty and you begin to wonder if you’ve maybe pushed him a bit too far this time.

You wrap your arms around your knees as your bed creaks with Satan's weight as he sits down next to you. “Are you even aware of how much I had to hold back-“ Satan grumbles, while he draws closer to you. His brows are pinched and his eyes are flashing green.

“Wait what?” you interrupt. “You held back because you didn’t want to upset me?”

“No!” Satan huffs and scratches his head. “I mean I thought you liked those books,” he says and pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes shut, while letting out a long breath.

“Oh, you big softie!” You chuckle as realisation dawns upon you.

“I am not a softie!” Satan's eyes snap open again. “You so are!” You squeal when Satan is on you, so you’re pressed against the bed, trapped between Satan's hands on either side of your head. Much to your surprise he begins tickling you. “Satan, no!” you yelp and try to get away from him, with no prevail.

“Take your punishment, human!” The demon howls. You’re gasping for air, lightly slapping his chest, in a fit of laughter. The side of Satan’s mouth quirks up. “This is the next best thing to eating you!”

a/n: thank for reading! <3 you can find my other stuff here

#perse fics #perse fluff #satan #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me fluff #obey me satan #obey me satan fluff #obey me fic #obey me satan x mc #obey me satan x reader #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me x mc #satan fluff

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the-demonus-aunt · 1 year

Note

What if the brothers found a Vibrator in your room (how would they react)

Hehe. Yes, thank you. Apologies for the delay, I hope you're still thirsting for this 🌚

CN nsft. sex toys. reader has a vagina. rough sex.

Belphie

He'll tease you with such a straight face, it will take you a while to even realise what's going on

He's merciless about it. It's his way of trying to provoke you enough that you will take the first step

Frankly, it might end in tears, which shocks him, which ends in hugs

On the other hand, if you have a humiliation kink? Best night of your life.

He's gonna overstimulate you until you use the safe word, holding that wand against your clit like his life is depending on it

How practical that he can use his other hand to tease your nipples

How delicious that he can kiss you like this and feel your desperate moans on his lips

"I didn't know you were such a needy little slut. Will you be a needy little slut for me?"

Beel

No, listen, it's right next to him and he doesn't notice

You gave him cookies, are you really expecting him to take in his surroundings?

If he finds it, it's because you wanted him to

You left it there, right next to the space he usually sits in, still dripping with your juices, because you knew he would smell it

And you knew it would be the one thing that smells more delicious to him than his food

Oh, he gets one wiff of it and you're already flipped onto your back, as he claws on your pants

It takes some nudging for him to actually use the toy on you. Why would he, if he can just taste you like this?

But when he realises how wet it gets you - how there's even more for him to taste - you have a long night ahead of you

Don't forget he's the Avatar of Gluttony. I hope you prepared for this when you sat the toy down near his cookies.

"How are you so delicious? I can't take it anymore. I- aaaah."

Asmodeus

He immediately asks you about it - he knows the model, do you love it as much as he does?

Btw, he figured out how to make it feel even better - do you want him to show you?

He's surprisingly gentle, kissing his way down your legs, as he pulls down your pants

Orders you to tease your own nipples with it while he prepares you

Asmo takes out an aphrodisiac cream and slowly spreads it right over your clit

He hasn't really touched you before, so your hips jolt up as heat shoots through your body

He teases you for hours before he goes all in

When you cum, he cums. He hasn't touched himself. You screaming his name is all it takes.

"Oh gorgeous, I'll make you feel so good, you'll see. How does that feel? Good? Yeah, I know, darling."

Satan

At first, he pretends he doesn't notice

Unfortunately his gaze keeps coming back to it

Is there...is there still cum on it?

Well, now there's precum in his pants

He palms himself until you notice and blush

Then he can't take it anymore. He throws you onto the bed and rips your clothes off

The only reason he doesn't just stuff himself into you without any hesitation is that he can feel you need some prep

He uses his fingers. They'll be better than any toy, you'll see

When you're finally wet enough, he plows into you until you have tears in your eyes

He presses his open mouth onto yours, his tongue finding its way to yours

Fuck, he wants to be in you in all ways possible

When you come and moan his name into is mouth, he almost blacks out

"You think you can tease me like this? You're not ready for what you got yourself into."

Levi

Mass panic in a room with only two people

He can't even hide it, he just shrieks when he sees it

You probably shriek, too, grasping for it so that you can put it away

You couldn't hide your vibrator, now he can't hide his boner

You might have to take the first step, ask if you can help him out, give him a kiss

Well, 5 seconds later you're on your bed, Levi helplessly thrusting into you

He cums almost immediately but he makes up for it throughout the rest of the night

Only after he feels you, tastes you, experiences you, will he get up and get that vibrator out again

"Show me how you use it. I wanna see. Please?"

Mammon

He enters your room. He sits down on your bed. Why is he standing up again? He's heading to the door, mumbling some sorry excuse, is he actually leaving?

Your gaze shifts to your bed and the realisation hits fast enough to stop him

Oh but now you're so close, and you're both thinking about the same thing and why are his hands on your hips?

His kiss is firm, the grip on your ass needy, he might be blushing but he does not hesitate. Not anymore.

You're both too lost in each other to remember the toy

The adrenaline, the pleasure - it turns the night into a blur of highs and heat and indecipherable whispers

"MC. I can't take i- I can't- fuck, you feel incredible."

Lucifer

This demon has The Audacity™️

He picks it up. Holds it nice and high, looking at you with a raised eyebrow and smug smile

He tells you if you needed help, all you had to do was ask. There is no need to resort to such mundane experiences when he can take you straight to heaven anytime you wanted, right?

You don't dare object. Which is good bc you also don't want to.

He takes you right on the table.

The things he can do with his tongue

The moans he extracts from you with his fingers

The whimpers his hard cock presses out of you

None so sweet as the way you dig your fingers into his arms as you cum

As your nails break skin and his name falls from your lips, he fills you up to the brim and makes you his

"You're cumming already? Pathetic, but I'll allow it. Ok then, cum for me, love, but show me exactly how good I'm making you feel. Yes, just like this. Yes."

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girlboypersonthingy · 1 month

Note

Hiiii I wanted to request hazbin boys x injured male reader? Reader gets into a scuffle, gets roughed up quite a bit and comes home not looking too well (I wanna see em fuss over the reader lol)

Mmph, yes yes, I love boys fussing over their injured darling. Too fuckin cute! I have so many great requests for Hazbin and Helluva, I’m so excited 🫨 thanks for the request and enjoy anon 💟

Notes: gn!reader bc anyone can get into a scuffle so why not, mostly fluff with a sprinkle of angst

TW: blood, bruises, fighting, cussing, of course it’s suggestive during Angel’s part 😉

Includes Lucifer, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Vox and Alastor

Hazbin boys x reader- Bruises 🖤

You’re not sure who roughed you up, you barely got a look at the dudes before you were laid out on the dirty sidewalk getting punched and trying to push one of the perpetrators off you. Whoever he was, he was strong and brutal and must’ve really had a problem with you because damn, you were fucked up. Not that you couldn’t hold your own, but there was more than one of them and they really caught you off guard. You had suffered several blows to the face and a few kicks to the stomach and back. Seemed like the group showed just a bit of mercy tho- they could’ve broken your legs or straight up killed you. Luckily, you limped away with only minor injuries but a huge blow to your psyche. While it could’ve been worse, it was horrific and traumatizing regardless.

It’s hard trying to stay tough and take care of yourself because you’re scared, feeling like you’ll have to look over your shoulder from now on when you’re out on the streets. It was also a bit embarrassing considering Husk and Angel offered to tag along with you to keep you safe but your dumb ass insisted you were fine alone.

It was late now, around the time everyone went to bed at the hotel so you were expecting to silently creep inside, hobble to your room and take care of yourself in secret. And if anyone asked about the marks or bruises the next day, you’d just blame it on a wild night of partying. To your surprise, as you walk in the door the entirety of the hotel’s staff and residents were sitting on the floor and couches in the front room, drinking and talking by the fireplace. Of course, Charlie had everyone doing some bonding bullshit late at night. The sound of the door clicking open has everyone’s eyes looking towards you now. “Ah, shit…” Leaves your swollen lips as the crowd gasps and one by one, they all stand and approach your damaged figure. Finally, the one person you really didn’t want to see you like this comes rushing forward to get a good look at you.

Lucifer 🍎

“Oh, Satan! (Y/N), are you okay? What happened? Ohhh, my poor angel!”

Proceeds to fuss and worry over you while wearing the saddest expression :,( his poor bb

Might actually cry a little…just hurts him to see his darling all banged up.

It’s not just the physical pain he senses, it’s the emotional pain you feel too- the fear and the trauma and the stress of it all

His hands just hover all around the most damaged parts of you- fingers almost touching your eye which was now swollen shut, his thumb ghosting over your busted bottom lip

Whisks you away to his room and runs you a bath. Gets you all clean and is probably still whining and crying over you as he watches the bath water turn red with all the blood washing off you and gets you ready for bed.

He’s an emotional man, okay?

He also feels extremely guilty for not being there to protect you. Even if you bluntly told him you don’t need his protection, he feels like it’s still his fault at least a little bit.

Miiiiiiight start a silly little argument over you never leaving the hotel or his side ever again lol

“I just want to protect you, my love. Please! Stop being stubborn.”

He’ll really really baby you tho.

Like even if your legs are working fine, NOPE! Don’t move an inch. Luci will carry you anywhere you desire.

“Lucifer, I just have a black eye and some scrapes. I can walk just fine, babe.”

And he’ll just ignore you and continue to coddle you and do everything for you

For sure this man peppers very gentle, very soft and slow kisses on your tender face once you’re cleaned up and finally resting in his bed

And he for sure cries again in the morning when he wakes up and your face looks even worse

Probably even panics a bit like-

“IM TAKING YOU TO A HOSPITAL OH MY SATAN!!! MY POOR BABY WWAAAA!”

“It’s just some bruises! Luci, they always look worse before they look better, I’m fine.”

Just calm him down with some kisses and words of love

Angel Dust 🕸️

“Holy shit! What happened, babe? Oh no…this is bad. This is sooo bad! This is why we wanted to go with ya.”

Also gets very dramatic and concerned, looks so sad over your battle wounds

But of course he’s a flirt even under tough circumstances and can make a dirty joke even in the most dire situations

He’d definitely tell you you look hot asf and that you’re soooo brave~

Tries to lighten the mood a bit

“(Y/N), I wanna be the only one who gets to rough you up.” *pouts but also winks at you*

Angel has had his fair share of beatings courtesy of Valentino so he’s very good at first aid and knows tons of tricks to help with bruising, cuts, scrapes, preventing scars, relieving the pain.

He’s great at the clean up part but even better at the comfort part

Brings out all six arms to wrap you up in while you lay in his bed, cuddling up to you while offering soft kisses to the parts of you that aren’t so sore.

Angel is always down to fuck so if you’re feeling up to it, he’ll offer you some great sexual healing while being oh so careful of all your wounds and all the painful spots.

Will let you take control too, he hopes it’ll make you feel better and maybe return some of the confidence you lost from this scuffle.

He can spot a bruised ego from a mile away and he’ll do anything to get you feeling happy and secure again.

Also argues with you about never letting you go anywhere alone ever again lol he just loves you too much. If you’re gonna get jumped, he’s either gonna be there to help you out of it or he’s gonna be taking half the beating right next to you.

Reminds me of a song…

“I wanna walk with you, wherever you go to. I wanna hurt with you. Whatever you go through, I do too.” -sour switchblade by Elita

Yeah that’s Angel, just wants to be beside you no matter the circumstances

Husk 🃏

“Oh, you dummy! This is why we wanted to go with you. Oh, doll face. Who did this? You alright?”

Yeah, he’s mean sometimes so he’s gonna scold you for going out alone before the comforting starts.

Ultimately, he doesn’t pull you away to get you cleaned up or anything. Lets you decide what to do next, where to go. He just follows you and keeps a hand on you somewhere to let you know he’s here for you.

Will whip up any drink you ask for in hopes of it relieving the pain a bit

But he’s sneaky, he’s gonna ask you tons of questions about what happened, who did it, where you were, how many of them there was. Won’t give you your drink until you answer him.

Husk is plottin and schemin, wanting to get back at the assholes who did this to you. Hes thinking about all the cool, little weapons he has and what he can do with them to teach those jerks a lesson.

In the end tho, he does get more sentimental and soft spoken later while cuddled up to you in bed.

He’ll purr softly in your ear while letting his hands gently roam your body, tracing comforting circles all over your bruised skin

Will def wrap you up in his silky wings and then proceed to pour out his entire heart to you.

“I love you. I’m so glad you’re okay. You need to listen to me. I know better than you, I’ve been down here a long time. You have to be more careful. I dunno what I’d do if I lost ya, doll. You gotta stick with me, I’ll always protect ya.”

Once you fall asleep, he wanders out to the lobby to find Angel at the bar and there they talk about teaming up to get revenge on the assholes who dared to touch Husk’s little babe

The next morning, of course they’re still talking about it. You’ll have to tell these idiots to stop and just let it go bc omg they sound crazy rn they’re gonna make a mess if you let this continue

Buuuut if you kinda like them fussing over you this much, then by all means let them do their thing as you sit back and enjoy the attention

Ooooh, Husky is getting maadddd. Kinda cute when he lets a protective growl slip out while talking to Angel. Aww he loves you~

Sir Pentious 🐍

Immediate tears and full blown panic attack at the sight of your battered face.

“OH MY GOODNESSSSSS!!! My baby! My darling! Ohhhhhh, you poor thing, come here! I’ll take care of you.”

Doesn’t care that the entirety of the hotel residents are crowded around watching you two- Pentious holds you like a baby in his arms and carefully sinks to the ground with you, holding you so tight it actually kinda hurts due to all your bruises.

Cries for a while like this- goes back and forth between examining your bruises and cuts and bloody nose with his watery eyes to then burying his face in your neck as he weeps for you.

“Pen, I’m okay. Just a little banged up. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“I CAN’T HANDLE IT!!! You’re too pretty to be beaten up like thisssss. Aawwwww.” And he’s crying even harder now.

And this goes on for a while until you finally decide to get up and go to your room with him to get cleaned up.

Babies the absolute fuck out of you- brings you food in bed and tries to feed it to you, gets you in the bath and refuses to let you touch anything while insisting he do all the work for you, carries you everywhere.

It’s actually so nice tho- he washes your hair for you real slow and firm as he scrubs your scalp, very carefully washes the dirt and dry blood from your skin only to reveal more bruises he hadn’t seen before, carefully applies ointment to your bloody cuts and scrapes

Listen…this man is not gonna stop crying until you are 100% healed up. Even the next morning, you wake up beside him to see his face wet with tears as he sniffles.

At least you know he really truly deeply cares for you and loves you 💚

“Oh, it’s okay, babe. I’m felling so much better today, especially since I get to start my morning in bed with you.”

And now he decides he’s gonna keep you in bed all day and continue to baby and pamper you

Keeps his tail and most of his body wrapped around you loosely all day as you watch movies and relax. Cant stop staring at your face and focusing on each blue and black bruise you wear, eyeing every cut and scrape and the split skin on your lip.

You took a beating and he thinks it’s only fair that you and him stay in bed until you’re truly feeling well enough to resume your normal daily tasks.

Of course, he has to stay with you in case you need something! Can’t leave his injured partner alone, wouldn’t dream of it!

Vox 🖥️

(I know he’s not at the hotel, pretend you just walked into V Tower instead, k?)

REVENGE REVENGE REVENGE

“WHAT. THE. FUCK?! Who? Where? When? HOW FUCKING HOW DARE THEY-“

You’ll have to cut him off or he’ll go on an entire raging tangent about revenge and eventually short circuit lol

“Voxy, I’m okay. Don’t worry about it. I just wanna get clean and go to bed.”

He slowly cools off and begins to focus more on you and your injuries, asking if you’re okay or if there’s anything he can do. Now behind closed doors, his entire attitude changes.

He’s following you into every room, watching you with an expression of intense sadness and concern, wishing he could take all your pain and give it to himself instead. He’d suffer for you if it meant seeing you happy and healthy

Sits in the bathroom in silence but keeps you company while you wash up. He might ask if you need help but also wants to give you space and make sure you feel safe

Assists you in getting dressed while making it very romantic and being very attentive. Vox will so slowly slip your pajamas onto you while letting his claws ghost over all your bruises.

Will lean in and kiss your busted lips right as your head pops through the top of your shirt, followed by a smile and probably more kisses

Listen, most of these boys are gonna become way more over protective after this incident okay? Vox is most definitely not an exception

Insists that either He’s gonna be with you every where you go from now on or he’s gonna send security with you every where you go from now on.

And no matter who is with you when you’re out in the streets, his cameras will also be watching over you.

Oh yeah, and he goes back in the cam footage and has a perfect view of the whole incident. He watches it over a few times before ordering a hit on every sinner who dared to mess with his lover.

You’ll never have to worry or look over your shoulder or worry again 😘

Alastor 🩸

Doesn’t say much or even stay long to worry about you at first.

He’s more angry and bent on revenge than anything. He’s worried about you too but he knows you’re strong and can take care of yourself.

He slips off to do some exploring and investigating to find out who did this to you

Spends maybe an hour figuring it out and then promptly goes on a murder spree to take care of all those pesky sinners who dared to lay a finger on his beloved

Okay, now that that’s out of his system, he can come back and take care of you.

Isn’t as cuddly and romantic as the others but he still babies you and refuses to let you do anything for yourself.

“Now now, darling. Just relax. I’ll have you cleaned up and feeling better in no time.”

Bathes you, dresses you, tucks you into bed all while humming slow tunes to you

Doesn’t cuddle you but sits on the bed beside you and gives your head some gentle pets

“You won’t have to worry any longer, my dove. I took care of those degenerates and I’ll never let you wander the streets of hell alone ever again.”

Will place a gentle kiss on your throbbing head before leaving you to rest.

He’s serious tho, anywhere you go he goes too. You’re never leaving his sight again ❤️‍🩹

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