Tumgik
#pls save me the embarrassment
fluxweeed · 16 days
Note
Hii, I just discovered your fics and am reading my way through them. Love, love, love the ones I’ve read so far.😊 I was just wondering what your favourite Draco is you’ve written, and what your fave Draco is in fics written by others? ☺️
ACK thank you!! what a question!! i've considered this v carefully and it turns out i have………a lot of thoughts. i will keep them under a cut so nobody is accosted with a full 700 words of my Draco Opinions 😂 so my quick answer is:
my fave draco i've written: the taste of țuică my fave draco ever: rookie moves by peu_a_peu
draco is an interesting one for me bc i don't really LIKE him? but i have sooo many feelings about him. really not sure i could summon the same fervour for harry, for example, who is my number one boy forever and always.
(i saw a thing once that said a pairing becomes ur otp when u relate to one of the characters and want to fuck the other one, and 🙈 i mean, i think you're supposed to relate to the gryffindor, aren't you. whoops.)
OKAY SO HERE'S THE UNHINGED DRACO MALFOY ESSAY BY FLUX W. EED.
listen. i love and respect people who are Refined Draco enjoyers. connoisseurs of redemption arcs. appreciators of majestic malfoy bone structure and ethereal grey eyes and soft windswept hair. fans of dracos who insult harry (with hidden affection) and who are a bit snobbish (in a rich, sexy way) but ultimately have realised the error of their teenage years and have become a better person. perhaps this draco has built a potions business and helps the aurors. perhaps he IS an auror. either way, he has a biting sense of humour, maybe, but he's a good guy.
unfortunately, the draco of my heart is a horrid mean little rat man.
i've never actually managed to write him the way i love him. i tried to aim for immoral bastardy in what's mine is yours but i got so caught up in trying to nail the feelsforbreakfast-style humour in the narrative that i ended up focusing much more on that and much less on writing genuine bastardhood.
i've written him as reserved and clever (in the four doors – this draco was written entirely for @jovialobservationanchor, who had a weak spot for closed-off academics with soft centres) and as a traumatised self-loathing mess (in two to lie and to some extent for lack of wanting and say no to this) and hopelessly sexually/emotionally horny for one harry james potter (in, um, most things) but i've never managed to capture the genuine cruel streak and flawed personality that is sooo so important to me.
WHICH IS WHY i picked țuică!draco for my favourite of the ones i've written. he's still a bit too emotionally intelligent to be Just Right, imo, but i think he's maybe the closest? he's unrepentantly rude to people. he's not attractive. and he has a streak of self-destructive fucked-upedness that is some form of wartime guilt, but certainly not a pretty one.
HOWEVER. rookie moves?? NAILED it. i adooored how genuinely fuckin MEAN he is, even tho he's an auror. i love love LOVED that he's kind of bad at his job in a way that's in complete opposition to how drarry!draco is often written these days:
The look on Malfoy’s face was not only troubling, Harry realized, but familiar. At once activated and dead behind the eyes, like an invasive species in an ecosystem that could not check it. It was the look of the meanest fucking teenager Harry had ever known, giving in to his urge to bully.
-
What Malfoy wasn’t good with was people. Despite his repeated insistences that his upbringing had equipped him with impeccable manners and a facility with society intrigue, the truth was that he rubbed almost everyone the wrong way. He was, undeniably, annoying. Witnesses were put off by his snide, dismissive tone, and he didn’t know how to coax out information with curiosity, warmth, or strategic silence.
Tumblr media
that's not to say unrepentant cunt draco is the only one for me!! i DO enjoy the classic redeemed drarry draco!! i love a quirky draco, à la wwpwcs or maya's drop dead gorgeous. gallaplacidia's draco is sooo painful for me to read (complimentary) that even though i adore her fics, i still haven't read them all bc i have to space them out, for my health. and i'm sure there are dozens more dracos that i'm forgetting how much i like – basically, as long as he isn't super suave, absolutely gorgeous and/or obviously tom felton, i'm on board.
48 notes · View notes
neverforpickles · 11 months
Text
tell me why my patients decided that the first thing they’ll say to me when i come in in the middle of her talk with the young doctor is to ask wether i am his girlfriend ?????
2 notes · View notes
ladyhavilliard · 2 years
Text
I just saw a tik tok about how hair can't be healthy, because it's dead and we're just maintaining it's corpse and the first thing i thought about was that I am the luo binghe to my own shen qingqiu <3
12 notes · View notes
jeoseungsaja · 2 years
Note
word of advice, hyuk! you should take your shirt off around patrick more often- it really gets his heart pumping if you know what i mean 😊 ( i have a job so that it keeps me from embarrassing hyurick on the daily JFKSLDJFKLSDJ but also feel free to skip this if it doesn't sit right with you alex!! )
@ofgentleresolve ♚ from x.
♔ ———–​
    Advice shared catches him off-guard. Here he is, thinking that guidance was going to be about the usual: ‘you should smile more’, ‘you should take a break’, ‘you should wear colorful clothes sometime, you’ll look less gloomy’, ‘you should wipe that scowl off your face, at least for a few minutes’ --- the list goes on and on; suggestions he never follows just because others say so. But no, this isn’t about the sourness of his face or the choices he makes in clothes; this isn’t about his attitude or restlessness. This is about...Patrick? 
    “What?” 
    He heard them, alright. He’s just delaying his answer by vaguely acting like he didn’t catch the whole swing. It’s a good thing he hadn’t taken a sip of his sweet iced Americano yet, otherwise he would’ve been coughing and spluttering all over the place. 
    Taking his shirt off. Why? Patrick has seen him like that before, hasn’t he? More than once, since that’s the way Hyuk sleeps: shirtless. Actually, the last time his dear friend saw him without clothes on his torso was when he ----- wait a minute. 
    When Patrick stayed for a week for work purposes.     When he choked on his tea and kept looking down.     When Hyuk...kissed him on the cheek. 
    Was that the reason why Patrick initially refused to look at him? The reason behind warm cheeks and stutter; bashfulness and the need for him to run and attempt to make breakfast? Because Hyuk didn’t have any clothes on from the waist up? 
      He unconsciously begins to gnaw on his bottom lip.        ‘It really gets his heart pumping, if you know what I mean’.       Does that mean Patrick likes...what rests under his shirt?        The way he’s built? Is he attracted to this?        If so, does Patrick know Hyuk’s attracted to him, too?        Maybe he’s been able to tell --- his best friend’s undeniably observant.
      The detective’s starting to remember the moment he accidentally hit his head when rearranging his brushes; how his heart started beating wildly against his chest just by looking at Patrick unfolding and buttoning his sleeves. Moves that used to be nothing now are more than something. He remembers, too, how Patrick’s hand smoothly caught his own; how he squeezed and wouldn’t let it go (thankfully, because he adores feeling his touch, no matter where it might land). 
     Eyes blankly stare at the swirls of cream that are still waiting to disappear under layers of coffee. What if this was revealed during that time? Confessed, that Patrick likes the sight of him shirtless? That the view gets his heart pumping? What if instead of keeping his hand there, hovering on air, he used it to lead Patrick’s palm under his shirt? So he could know what patterns Patrick would draw on his skin, so he could feel his caress --- would it be as careful and gentle as it usually is, or---
      Oh, God. Cheeks threaten to get warm; he starts to feel a little hot under that turtleneck and jacket of his. He shouldn’t think about this at all; Hyuk wanting to scold his own head for being this audacious with its thoughts. Besides, it’s not like...it could ever happen. Why would it? It’s too bold of a notion, isn’t it? Even if it’s somewhat noticeable that something else seems to be stirring besides their long-lasting friendship, he just...well, he doesn’t want to jump into swift conclusions or assume.
     He snaps out of it.      Or tries to. 
Tumblr media
   “What is that kind of advice, huh? Why would he---how do you even know this?” 
   Now he has the sudden urge to add more ice cubes to his coffee. 
    “Word of advice for you: mind your own business, leave me alone--” 
  It’s all he can muster, before bringing the cold drink to his lips and drinking most of it in one sitting.
———– ♔
15 notes · View notes
heffrondriving · 2 years
Text
i log off for a couple days to focus on enrollment only to entirely forget that the queue function is a thing and damnit the bintch went wild........if anyone saw any weird random unfinished posts with redundant tags in the last 48 hours pls ignore them, i'm so sorry 🔪😖
1 note · View note
mirawhat · 6 months
Text
woke up with a fever and it was going fine and mild and here i am 4 hours later unable to get it under 38C 🫠
at least i am on a sick leave till monday
0 notes
themothsnest · 11 months
Text
Not me remembering the time i gave my mum my phone to do something and she opened tumblr thinking it was the phone call app-
0 notes
beommii · 1 year
Text
I POSTED THE HOONIE BEING A GOOD BOY WHEN IT WAS HALFWAY DONE BY ACCIDENT.
1 note · View note
enigmatic-bumble · 1 year
Text
You read something and its like wow!!! This possibly can't get any worse!!!
And it's just progressively getting so much worse
1 note · View note
royalelusts · 1 year
Text
obey me nightbringer has me feeling things😭
0 notes
nanaslutt · 7 months
Note
hear me out.. gojo w a mommy kink
oh em gee nonnie………
i wasn’t sure if you wanted sub or dom gojo but i hope you like what i cooked up :p
pls enjoy<3
contains: fem reader, mommy kink, use of ‘mama’, ‘mama’s’ as well, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), coming inside, bully!gojo, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, a liiiiitle cervix fucking, squirting, stomach bulge briefly mentioned, begging, whiney!gojo
MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
it honestly started as a joke, maybe less of a joke and more of him testing the waters per say, “yes mommy” he chirped, humor and teasing laced in his tone when you asked him to take out the trash one afternoon
when you didn’t protest against the name, not giving him a usual snarky remark, he turned around to look at you, not expecting to see your blushing face, fidgeting from where you stood in the kitchen, looking embarrassed at the nickname he called you,
unbeknownst to you while you stared at your feet, a smile full of mischievousness was creeping onto gojo’s face, lightbulbs going off in his head
ohhh this is fucking perfect, he thought
he never knew how to bring up that he wanted to try this with you, it’s not like you would’ve taken him seriously anyways, he can picture how the conversation would go vividly in his mind,
but gojo was more than slightly to blame for the frequency in which you dismissed him. satoru was incapable of being serious to save his life
all thanks to his little ‘joke’ you were now currently in this predicament:
gojo’s massive palm shoving the side of your face into the mattress, tears and spit smeared on the sheets below you, other hand braced on your lower back, pushing you into the meanest arch as he fucks right into your gspot,
“you like that mommy?” he cooed, “like when i fuck your pussy like this? huh?” he teased lightly, laughing at the loud whimpers getting knocked out of your lungs each time his hips pulled his thick cock out of you only to bully his angry tip back right into your walls, rubbing you just right,
he was giving you the meanest backshots, feeling even more aroused than normal from not having to hold back this side of him anymore, “asked you a question mama’s,” he repeated, emphasizing his need for your response with a mean thrust,
“y-yeah f-feel ‘s good toru,” you moan out between his deep thrusts, “squeezin me so good mommy, fuuuuck.” he laughs when he feels your cunt start to pulse around him for the fourth time that night, “you gonna cum? you- o-oh fuuck.” words getting cut off at the intense feeling of your cunt gushing your squirt out around him,
“haaaaa, didn’t even warn me that time mama.” he grit his teeth, fucking you through your orgasm with newfound vigor, hand coming down to rub quickly back and forth against you clit, making your juices spray all over the bed underneath you,
“toruuuu, ‘m sensitive g-give me a second p-please.” you manage to stutter out, crying out when he doesn’t let up his assault on your overstimulated cunt, “nooo,” he moans pouting his lip down at you before smiling, “don’t think i wanna,” he finishes, leaning over you, moving his big hand off the side of your face and onto the bed next you you for leverage, other hand coming up to go grip your jaw and smash your lips into his,
he hums against your open mouth as you protest his malicious thrusts, fucking you like he’s trying to poke a hole through your guts. the new angle pushing his impossibly big cock ever deeper, kissing your cervix in painfully pleasurable thrusts,
“feel good mommy? huhhh?” he breathlessly whispers into your mouth, doing most of the work in kissing you as you were too fucked out to put in any effort. his tongue slipping into your mouth, sucking your lip into his and biting it between his teeth as he groans, “you feel me in ur stomach mommy?” he questions with a grin when he sees your shaky hand slide under your body to press against the bulge in your tummy,
“s fucking deep ‘toru p-please,” you begged, not really understanding yourself what you were asking for, but he just nods and hums agreements into your mouth, “m gonna cum inside you now.” he babbles against you lips, losing his sensibility bit by bit the longer he’s inside of you, butterflies flying around in his stomach when he feels your soft pussy clench around him tightly every time he uses the nickname, glad you’re getting off on it as much as he is,
“tell me you need it mommy, tell me- fuck- tell me you want me to fill this p-pretty pussy, need you to say it,” he’s gaping into your drooling mouth. your eyes having trouble staying forward in your eye sockets with how much pleasure you were getting from this,
“give it to me t-toru please, give it to me.” you somehow got out, barely coherent to someone if they were a foot away, luckily for gojo he was pressed against your face, whimpering ‘uhhuh?’’s repeatedly into your mouth, “cum inside mommy,” you slurred out, feeling his sloppy thrusts speed up,
loud echos of your wet cunt filling the room as he stills inside of you, whining and groaning out profanities hearing you call yourself by the nickname he was so insistent on, hips stilling deep inside you, cock feeling like it was inside your womb as he humps his sensitive dick against your ass,
“o-ohmygodd f-fuck meeee.” his whiney voice cries, rotating his hips in circles and simultaneously massaging your gspot while he lets the last spurts of his cum shoot deep inside you,
pushing his torso off of your back and leaning back while he pulls his still hard cock out, seed spilling down the back of your thighs as he spreads you pussy with his thumb to get a better view of it drip out, “fuck mama,” he laughed, biting his lip at the mess he made out of you, “gotta hear you call urself mommy again,” he smirks, pushing his sensitive dick back inside you, making you both gasp, “made me cum so fucking hard.” tipping his head back, breathing heavily as he steadies both his hands on your hips,
“not letting you leave till you have me shooting blanks inside this pussy,” he giggles into the air, you had no idea what you were in for.
4K notes · View notes
maybeillwritesmth · 1 year
Text
Save me i am sitting beside my fuckinc teacher in a kiosk
0 notes
sytoran · 7 months
Note
Could I request a Natasha x reader where R and Nat are driving home from a party but their car breaks down so they call someone to come help them fix it and while they’re waiting they fuck outside on the back of the car…strap on pls
Tumblr media
𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟏𝟎 — 𝐏𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐄𝐗
kinktober day 010 | milf!natasha x fem!mechanic!reader
natasha's had a completely shit day, and the last straw is when her car breaks down on the way home. the unbelievably sexy mechanic who shows up to fix her car makes it an unforgettable night.
note. i might've changed the plot so R is the mechanic. trust me on that decision.
cont. strap-on use, daddy kink, horniness, hot mechanic stuff
word count. 3435 (yall are getting fed)
kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
Tumblr media
In her weathered thirties, Natasha had retired as an Avenger and chose a life that had always been nothing more than a distant dream. 
By adopting two beautiful children and becoming a mother, it was almost like she was flipping off the Red Room for what they had done to her. It was an act of justice, a long sought-after victory, throwing away her past but embracing the lessons it had taught her.
However, despite how much the future she carved for herself had changed, one thing hadn’t — and that was the people who had been by her side throughout her journey to normalcy.
Kate, that human embodiment of a golden retriever, was all about ‘bringing the Avengers together, old and new’, and ‘forging stronger bonds in the pursuit of justice’. Hence came the monthly parties that involved the wealth of Bishop Security, too much alcohol, and one too many bad decisions.
For Natasha, the party had spun out of control like a series of unfortunate events: From the raspberry martini Thor had spilled on her, to the ripped dress from a stupid dare from Rocket to climb the fence, and the incredibly awkward seven minutes in heaven with Bruce. 
Right now, the ex-Avenger wanted nothing more than to dive under the warm blankets and close her eyes and shut the world out. Go home to her two bundles of joy. Be engulfed in the warmth of comfort and release. Maybe even let Liho sleep on the bed for once.
She needs to get back home a little faster. Natasha accelerates.
Her eyes are on the road, gripping the steering wheel with a steely frown. The road is dark, the lamps are flickering. There’s a thought lingering in the back of her mind, like an itch that simply wouldn’t go away.
It was embarrassing to admit, but Natasha had done far worse: She was unarguably sexually frustrated. After saving the universe and transitioning into a life of motherhood, she hardly had any time to alleviate her stress in that kind of way.
Today was one of those days, then, where she would once again have to retreat into the confines of her shower and spend a little longer than she should. Or perhaps, dive under the sheets and reach into her bedside table for that plastic purple toy.
Natasha steps on the pedal a little harder. She accelerates again – the engine splutters.
"Fuck, shit, don't do this to me now," she growls, angrily slapping her steering wheel while a frown creases her eyebrows. 
It only takes the car three more streetlamps to absolutely die out on her, coming to a screeching halt, in the dead of the night, in the middle of nowhere. Comically, the sound of something fusing inside her engine follows right after.
Natasha lets the groan of frustration fall freely, forehead hitting the centre of the steering wheel. The resounding sound of the car honking echoes in the emptiness of the place, like a mockery of Natasha’s misfortune.
She climbs out of the car reluctantly, slowly lifting the bonnet open and staring blankly at the mechanical parts before her. 
Natasha was a woman of many capabilities, those of which included being able to assassinate three grown men with a pencil, speak fifteen languages fluently, raise two kids with an attitude more stubborn than hers, save the fucking world, in fact, but fixing cars was not one of them.
Gradually, the car parts in the engine began to look more and more like ancient hieroglyphs that Natasha would spend a lifetime trying to decipher.
She pulls out her cell phone to call someone for assistance, before realizing that basically all of her friends were likely piss-drunk at that stupid party, and would never pick up. (Okay, she also didn’t have a social life other than her ex-comrades in battle, but could you really blame Natasha?)
As the redhead closed her eyes, irritation danced in the darkness of her vision, flickering in specks of white and then burning red. Natasha resigns to her doomed fate.
Calling up the roadside assistance services would mean spending an insanely long amount of time waiting, then having her car towed to the auto-repair shop, henceforth allowing the mechanics there to actually fix up her car, and by the time she retreated into the warmth of her bedroom at home it would very much be far past midnight.
Pulling out her phone with a stately reluctance, Natasha searches up the nearest available mechanic services, dials in the designated number, and begins her wait for comfort and satisfaction.
***
If Natasha previously had any qualms or complaints about waiting for roadside assistance, her mouth was now sealed shut with lock and key. In fact, she would much rather let the mechanic that just arrived assist her in several other ways.
“Sorry for the wait, Ma’am, we were almost about to close shop,” you say, climbing out of the pickup truck then jumping down. 
You flick your hair out of your eyes and send a bright smile to your last client of the day, seemingly oblivious to the effect you had on the woman. “I’m Y/N, happy to be at your service.”
Now, Natasha certainly had her own suspicions that she wasn’t entirely straight, but those queries had been confirmed within a good five seconds.
It was too cliche to be real, almost. Natasha swallows as her eyes rake over your tight-fitting white tank top that showed off the most stunning bodily anatomy she had ever seen, each muscle carved from a meticulous sculptor, dirtied cargo pants hanging loose to reveal the band of a pair of black boxers. 
“Ma’am?” you repeat, lifting up a heavy toolbox with one hand, failing to notice that Natasha’s gaze is glued on to the flexed muscles of your right arm.
“O-oh,” the ex-Avenger mumbles in embarrassment – Oh, Yelena would cackle to see her like this – “Sorry, what was your question?”
You only tilt your head and give her a polite smile. “I was asking what seems to be the issue with your car.” 
Natasha nods vigorously, then walks stiffly towards her car. Her clammy hands struggle to lift the bonnet for a moment, and in a second you’re next to her, single-handedly lifting the cover with a thoughtful smile.
Natasha feels the heat rush to her cheeks and she looks away quickly. She was acting like a lovesick high school girl, for God’s sakes. Get it together, she chides. 
When she looks back up again, you have a wrench in hand, twirling it around. Natasha has her eyes glued to your tattoos and the way your fingers spin the tool.
“I’ll loosen this up a bit, see what we’re dealing with.” You say, fastening the wrench into place. Natasha barely has time to nod her acknowledgement before her breath gets stolen from her again.
The muscle of your forearm ripples like a satisfying wave when you jerk the wrench, and Natasha’s breath gets stolen away by the wind. She watches as your fingers expertly wrap around the tool, your other hand gripping the front of the car, and your next effort has Natasha getting wetter in places she shouldn’t.
“I think this part needs to be oiled,” you say, your even voice hauling Natasha out of her erotic fantasy. You look at your client curiously, innocently gesturing towards the toolbox next to her feet. “Would you be an angel and hand me the oiler?”
Angel.
Natasha’s heart races as she bends down to pick up your toolbox. (Okay, she definitely bends down a little too far, but she feels your eyes glued onto her ass, and she considers that a victory.) When she hands you the toolbox, your fingertips graze over her hand, and Natasha’s breath hitches a little too obviously.
By some holy deity’s work, you don’t comment or react to her squeak of surprise, and instead begin oiling up the engine of the car. Natasha flushes a dark red. Your grasp had been calloused, because of course it would be, experienced with handling cars and being rough—
The electricity that had run through her veins from that second of contact was comparable to Thor’s Mjolnir.
You have a little mishap when pouring the oil, the tube sliding in your grasp, and the car oil squirts from the nozzle and onto your front. You chuckle awkwardly, embarrassment tinging the tips of your ears.
Natasha thinks it’s the sweetest sound she’s ever heard, heart fluttering at your awkwardness. Once again, her libido catches up to her, and then Natasha’s eyeing your slick fingers (imagining it was a different type of slick), and the way your dampened shirt clung to your taut muscles.
Maybe you were doing it on purpose, too, facing Natasha as you lift up the hem of your shirt to squeeze out the oil. Her eyes feast on the hint of bare skin she can see, a defined V-line making itself known. 
“You don’t mind me working like this, I suppose?” you ask, a grin on your face. “I may look filthy, but I promise I’m excellent with my hands.”
“Show me, then,” Natasha replies loftily, almost second-nature with how the one-sided smirk creeps on to her face. Her skill of seduction was something that was ingrained into her bloodstream.
When you lay down onto the under-car roller and shift underneath the car to begin fixing it up, Natasha’s gaze darkens several hues and she lets her eyes roam over your body again.
She couldn’t tear her eyes off if she tried. She wanted to rake her nails over your taut muscles, watch them flex and ripple under her touch, hook her fingers in the belt-loop of your pants and tug it down—
—to see the unmistakable bulge on a strap-on in your boxers. Natasha licks her lips, zeroing in on the tantalizing sight. It looked big, even while hidden under the confines of your pants. She would take you so good, down her throat or up her cunt, until either of you orgasmed. 
Natasha gets lost in her thoughts, nearly drooling as she watched you work. Your tank top moved with every thrust of your arm into unscrewing a certain mechanical part, and the grease slid down the veins of your hands. 
The redhead has to sink her teeth into her bottom lip when you spread your legs for a more comfortable position, to stop herself from moaning out load. 
Natasha’s got it down bad, eyes once again on your bulge. Her panties are soaked, already, lewd thoughts flitting through her mind with every passing minute that you’re under there.
On the other hand, you were fighting a very different battle.
You weren’t stupid, no, not on any accounts. (Except for dating that one girlfriend who’d lit your auto-repair shop on fire when you broke up with her. But we don’t talk about past mistakes.) Right now, the woman you were attending to was none other than Natasha Romanoff.
Yes, the woman who had saved the universe. The woman who’d inspired you to say ‘fuck everyone else’ and chase your dreams. The woman on TV you’d spent more than a few nights thinking of, your hand in places you’d rather not specify.
More than that, you were quite sure that this woman, in a ripped dress that fucked your mind in ways it shouldn’t, wanted you to fuck her instead.
It was an uphill battle, your rationality versus your pathetic pretty-girl-want-to-fuck instinct. As you lay under Natasha’s car, working on the mechanical parts up there and getting grease all over your hands, you contemplated the reasons why logic was important.
Number One: Natasha Romanoff was an Avenger. If you pushed yourself onto her, she could very much knock you out before you could say ‘sorry’. As much as you prided yourself on your physique and brute force, you weren’t about to take on an ex-widow in a fight.
You look down for one second, as said woman steps a little closer to you, and you have to swallow to bite back an embarrassing sound. One of her hands was resting on your knee while you worked, and it took every cell of your existence not to start spasming under her touch.
Number Two: It was a violation of workplace guidelines. As much as the pay was shitty, you wouldn’t want to lose your job. You still had rent to pay, and you couldn’t keep hiding from your stick-in-the-ass landlord.
“Oh, that looks dirty,” Natasha comments, tone sultry as her hand creeps up higher on your leg. Your breath catches in your throat, grease staining your white shirt while your eyes quite nearly glaze over. 
I can show you dirty, your brain unhelpfully supplies, and you shake your head in a futile attempt to clear your head. 
Natasha, undetered, leans forward, chest grazing over your torso, the soft flesh of her breasts against your abdomen making your head spin.
Fuck, you just wanted to rip off her pretty dress and— Number Three: You were in public. Having sexual intercourse with your client right here and right now would likely end in a police report for vouyerism. Dingy apartment be gone, for you would be sleeping in a jail cell.
“M’kay, I’m done,” you announce, slapping the underside of the car as a sign of accomplishment. You purposefully slide out from under the car in one swift motion, allowing Natasha’s hand to graze over your muscled thigh.
Nothing could have prepared you for the sight that greeted you when you looked up, though.
There Natasha Romanoff leant over your body, one hand inches away from the bulge in your pants, the other tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. She was leaning forward, exposing a cleavage that hung right above your torso, dark eyes surveying you.
Fuck, dark couldn’t even begin to describe it. Natasha’s gaze was like an icy blast and molten lava all at the same time: Her pupils were severely dilated, a spark dancing within it. The deep colours of her eyes were like a kaleidoscope, pulling you in, entrapping you in a haze of lust. 
It was entirely wanton, arousing, filthy. Her ruby-red lips curved into a vulture-like smirk, gaze trailing downwards to your body. Everywhere her eyes rested on lit a path of hellfire. Those sinful hands crept on to your bulge, splaying over your false cock as you exhale shakily.
Number Four: Natasha Romanoff was looking at you like you were a full banquet service, all five courses, free of charge, complimentary champagne included. 
And honestly, was there really anything more important than that?
“Thanks for your help,” Natasha murmmurs, physically climbing onto you as you laid on the under-car roller. “Let me repay that kindness.”
You let out a strangled groan as Natasha pushes herself down onto you and kisses you, her hands sliding under your shirt to scrape at your abdomen. 
Oh, finally.
“Fuck,” you gasp against her eager lips, hands flying to palm at her ass as you deepen the kiss. Your brain hasn’t quite caught up to yet, the only you were registering being the sweet mouth you were exploring and the intoxicating flowery scent of Natasha’s perfume.
Your hand cinches around Natasha’s neck like a vice-grip, your tongue invading the confines of her mouth, the rocking motions of your meeting mouths drawing long gasps and whines from Natasha.
Her hands, on the contrary, are relentless: From the sides of your face to your washboard abdomen, sharp nails marking you as if you’re hers. 
Having relinquished your power for long enough, you grab handfuls of Natasha’s ass and lift her up; You get up, too, a mess of entangled limbs as you throw her over your shoulder, kicking away the roller and moving to the bed of your pickup truck.
Natasha’s left dripping at your display of effortless strength. You hoist the two of you up onto the pickup truck, paradoxically carefully laying her down, and you stall for a moment.
“We’re so gonna get caught,” Natasha whispers with a stupid grin on her face.
She looks up at you with a breathtaking smile, twilight reflecting off her eyes, dancing in the atmosphere that surrounded the two of you. 
The pair of you were completely exposed to the midnight air, in the middle of nowhere, but if anyone were to drive past it would be blatantly obvious what was happening.
You smirk, tugging her dress off with an assured confidence. “Maybe,” you reason, thumbing at one of Natasha’s nipples so she arches off the surface with a breathy gasp. “Or maybe not,” you continue, a big hand sliding under Natasha’s lithe body to undo the clasp of her bra and toss it somewhere.
“Y/N!” Natasha squeaks, as your greedy hands massage the mounds of her breasts. “Did you throw my bra onto the road?”
You hum your approval cheekily, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses from the swell of her breasts and down to her soiled. “Yes, angel. I’ll pick it up later, bring it home with me to jerk off–”
“Oh my god—”
“Yeah, and I’ll— oh fuck, angel, your panties are fucking soaked. Not so innocent, hm?” You question with a dark smile, two fingers running over the outside of her undergarment, arousal sticking to your fingers.
You watch as the older woman before you flushes from head to toe. Strings of slick cling to your thick fingers, and you suck on them as Natasha moans lewdly. 
“I’ll let you taste it later, don’t worry,” you add helpfully, shucking down your own pants and boxers. The strap-on springs out, and Natasha’s drooly lips open to push out a shaky breath of arousal.
“Daddy,” Natasha says, instinctually, at the sight of your gloried muscles and the ivory strap that hung between your legs like it was made to do so.
Your grip on Natasha’s hips bruise, the term nothing new to you but so entirely different when it came from Natasha fucking Romanoff. The sense of pride that washed over you was nothing compared to the carnal desire to fill her up and make her scream your name.
“Oh God!” Natasha wails out, fingernails digging into your forearms as you slide the head of your cock inside her. It wasn’t the longest, but it was girthy, and Natasha’s hole was stretched out as you pushed slowly.
“Not God,” you pant into Natasha’s ear, slapping her ass as she cries out loud. “Daddy, hm?”
“Yes!” Natasha moans, legs wrapping around your huge muscled back as you begin to thrust. Her hands try to interlock behind your back for support, but your shoulderblades are so wide that she can’t even fully wrap her hands around it, and that fact leaves her even hornier than before.
You’ve got Natahsa pinned to the ground under your body, pounding so hard that the whole truck shakes. The grease from your clothes goes all over, slick and sweat coating the two of you, pleasured cries and low grunts emanating from the pickup truck.
The squelching sounds of her pussy are absolutely filthy, as you pound into her spongy spot like your life depended on it. 
“There, please!” Natasha wails, helplessly clinging on to your back as you bring her to a ferocious orgasm. Her legs kick under you, hook around the side of the truck as you jackhammer your hips into her pussy.
“Almost there already, angel?” You ask heatedly, mouth working on marking up her tits. One of your hands had both of Natasha’s wrist above her head, and the other was on her hips for support as you thrusted into her.
Your response comes in an earth-shattering orgasm.
“Daddy!” Natasha moans out, filthy and drenched with desire. Her pleasured cry is so loud that it scares a flock of birds out of a nearby tree, and you flinch violently at the sudden sound of nature’s rustling leaves, like you forgot you were in public.
Natasha breaks out into a laugh at the absurdity of the situation, then moans again when another wave of orgasmic pleasure washes over her. That causes you to join in on the laughter, your cock jostling inside Natasha. She whines again, and you pepper kisses over Natasha’s sweaty forehead with nothing short of amused affection.
And that’s how the two of you end up entangled on the back of your pickup truck like lovesick fools, a mesh of sweaty and slick bodies, sounds of pleasure and laughter scaring away any other creature that might disrupt Natasha’s sought-after comfort and satisfaction.
Tumblr media
requests are NOT open... i just received this request all the way back in february, and so here it is haha..... im sorry to that one anon 😭 reblog to save a life xx
kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
evielmostdefinitely · 6 months
Note
Just read Cold Tonight! It was AMAZING pls do a (kinda) part 2 about the time she yelled @ him at the university? I know it was only a small part but I would love a fic about it! Thanks! Your an amazing writer
jealous girl |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
prompt: your jealousy leads to you causing a scene at university. coriolanus has to correct you. a/n thank you!! i'm so glad you enjoyed cold tonight and hope you enjoy this!
contains: smut 18+. dom/sub themes (consensual). dark, possessive but in love snow. jealous!reader. manhandling. degrading-ish??? spanking with implements (cane).
Coriolanus knew the flush of his cheeks matched the red of his uniform, that familiar burn searing through his veins. Embarrassment? Fury? He wasn’t entirely sure. 
“Can you wait for a moment?” Corio tried to keep his tone light, tracking you without running. It was embarrassing enough, your little tantrum. Storming out of the library in a fit, huffing and puffing petulantly down the stairs. Coriolanus was mortified, biting his tongue to keep it from lashing at you in public, causing an even bigger scene. 
“Darling, please,” Corio hissed, chin ducking, avoiding the wandering gazes of passersby. “Please calm down and act rationally.” 
“Rationally?” You halted, whipping around with a look so dangerous and threatening, it made him flinch. “You want me to respond rationally to that?” You threw your hand out, a woman possessed, blinded by fury. All education, etiquette casted outward at the glimpse of him in the library. Clemesia’s hand on his arm, leaning in flirtatiously. 
“Lower your tone.” Coriolanus hissed, eyes cutting around him. Peers and instructors glancing over at the two of them. Snow and Duke, the couple that already had enough eyes watching, now with even more, putting on a show. 
“I told you it wasn’t like that-” 
“-Oh, save me the lies, Coriolanus.” You huff, waving your hand dramatically. He flinched at the use of his full name. You never called him that, not unless you were truly furious. “She was all over you.” 
“We’re study partners, sweetheart.” Corio gritted, pulling you closer to him, hand squeezing your bicep in warning. “We were just studying.” 
“Oh? Then you’ve studied with me in a very similar manner, haven’t you?” You sneered, eyes narrowing in challenge. 
Coriolanus wasn’t sure if he could flush any deeper red, burning even more with embarrassment at the alluded comment to your sex life. The girls passing giggled, covering their mouths with their hands, eyes cutting back at the two of you. 
“How dare you.” Corio snapped, pulling you roughly into him. He continued his steps towards the door, his hand holding you close even as you struggled. “Can you try and have a little decorum? Some manners? Or have you lost your mind entirely?” 
“Have I lost my mind?” You gaped, digging your heels and coming to a complete stop, yanking his grip off your arm. Coriolanus cringed, the few bystanders turning. “You’re asking me if I’ve lost my mind? Have you lost yours?” 
Coriolanus hissed your name under his breath, reaching back for you. You smacked his hand away. “Let's go.” He hissed. “You’re causing a scene. You’re embarrassing me.” 
“Embarrassing you? I’ll show you embarrassing, Coriolanus Snow, because you have embarrassed me!” Your voice rang through the tall ceiling, bouncing off the marbled floors. The building seemed to settle into complete silence, and Corio thought he might pass out from pure embarrassment. 
Your eyes were wild, furious, chest heaving with rage. Corio knew the Peacekeepers outside wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you, not without your father having each of them tortured. Still, Coriolanus grabbed your hand, dragging you out of the building, head tucked in shame at the snickering laughter that floated out after him. 
***
“You embarrassed me-” 
“-I embarrassed you? You embarrassed me, you bastard!” You roared over him, pacing in the small living room of your penthouse. 
“I told you we are just study partners!” Coriolanus roared back, teeth bared in a nearly animalistic way. The embarrassment had fizzled into fury. 
“Oh, it really looked like study partners.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “She was all over you! What if I did that, hm?” 
“Stop it.” Corio growled. 
“What if I went out with my ‘study partner’ and let him touch all over me, or touched all over him? What would you think then?” You sneered, challengingly. “It would be alright, right? Because we’re just study partners, so he can touch me anyway he wants-” 
Coriolanus felt it coming, the snap. His composure busting, nerves fried, and sanity on the brink of dissolve. His hands found your shoulders, pinning you roughly against the couch, hovering over top of you with a wild-eyed glare that had you gasping in surprise. 
“If you ever let another man touch you, I would cut his fucking hands off on the steps of the Capitol Building for everyone to see.” Corio hissed, eyes dark, teeth gritted. 
You gaped, heart hammering in surprise, maybe fear. “And don’t you ever accuse me of looking at someone else, do you hear me? Don’t you dare speak so lowly of me. Disrespect me in that way. Insulting me, thinking I’d ever give a damn about Clemensia.” Corio spat, face twisting in a soured expression. 
You shuddered, your own eyes wide watching him, still under his pinned grip. “I have and only will love you. My heart belongs to you, my soul belongs to you. You have every piece of me, and you dare insinuate I would give a part of me to someone else? There’s nothing left to give even if I wanted to. You have it all.” 
Your lip wobbled, tears brimming your vision at the passion of his words. Your own anger and frustration dwindling, squirming under the bruising grip of his fingertips in your shoulders. “And to ever think I would entertain the thought of someone else.” Coriolanus' nose snarled in disgust. “To cause a scene like that? Embarrass me and yourself over your own blind jealousy? Over your own insecurities? Throwing a fit like a child.” 
Your lip wobbled, cheeks flushing furiously with embarrassment at your actions, suddenly very aware of how public they were. 
“I won’t stand for it.” Coriolanus shook his head firmly. 
“Corio,” You whisper, words strangled in your throat, nose burning with tears of embarrassment. “I-I just-” 
“-Don’t you dare try to excuse your actions.” Corio snapped fiercely, but his grip loosened. “You embarrassed me.” 
Your eyes casted downwards, looking at the rose pinned to his shirt. You couldn’t meet his eyes, not when they chastised you, made you feel so small. 
“I should take you back there. Punish you in front of everyone so they know I’m not weak.” Coriolanus sneered. “So they know that I don’t allow my girl to act in such an ill mannered way. So hysterical and crazed, you should be ashamed.” 
Your lip wobbled, swallowing the thick tears building in your throat. “I’m sorry, Corio. I just-I thought you-” 
“-You should know better.” Coriolanus shook his head, releasing you from his grip, sitting back so he hovered over you. “I’ve taught you better than this. I know I have.” 
Your spine tingled with an icy chill, the lingering threat in his tone, lips set in a displeased snarl. “I thought you were finally learning. Finally better. Clearly, you still need to learn.” 
“No,” It sounded far too whiny for your own liking, further proving Corio’s point. “Corio, I’ve learned, I swear. I just- I just lost my temper when I saw her touching you-” 
“-I’ve had enough of the excuses.” Coriolanus snapped, hand wrapping back around your bicep, pulling you into the small study. It was your apartment, but the study was Corio’s. You had it converted for when he stayed over and needed to do school work for University. 
It also harbored all his favorite torturous toys for your thrilling sex life. 
Corio pulled you over the mahogany desk, flipping your skirt up like a naughty school girl. His cock throbbed at the sight, your bottom raised and presented for him. He knew you’d be upset, already sniffling and pouty, which is exactly why he pulled out the cane. 
“I want you to remember this lesson,” Corio’s voice was commanding, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up before he stood behind you. You gasped, writing away when he tapped the cane gently against the skin of your ass, one hand anchoring your back into place. 
“The next time you think of behaving so inappropriately.” Corio looked at you through the mirror, holding your gaze. “The next time you forget your place in my life.” The cane cut through the air with a ominous swish, landing on cheeks, etching a thin line over the two globes. 
The caning Coriolanus gave you was brief but brutal. Ten strokes, raised onto your skin, leaving you sniffling and sobbing over the desk, a pool of tears pathetically beneath your chin. Corio spent the night babying you, after rutting into you, grunts and whispers of his own affections pressed into your tear soaked cheeks.
2K notes · View notes
ellecdc · 3 months
Note
HI HI i recently read “the winner takes it all” and i was wondering if you’re planning to create a part 2? if you don’t, can i request it with the plot of emmeline trying to win n the boys over, as well as to embarrass the reader, but the boys decided it was the perfect time to hard launch the reader?
BUT IF YOU ALREADY HAVVE A. PLOT IN MIND PLS DONT LISTEN TO ME I LOVE UR FICS!! 💕💕🫶🏻
You know, I actually didn't plan on making a companion piece to this but this was such a fun idea I couldn't help myself - thanks for requesting!!! 💖
*chanting* hard launch, hard launch, hard launch 👏 👏 👏
Poly!Marauders x reader (gender not specified)
The Loser Has to Fall
Companion piece to The Winner Takes It All
It felt like a giant weight had been lifted off your shoulders now that you knew exactly where you stood with the boys. You didn’t realize how deeply it had been distressing you to not know what you meant to them.
Apparently, you meant the world to them.
You spent the rest of that evening in the Gryffindor common room; James and Remus ran down to the kitchens to bring a picnic for you four and Sirius told you to enjoy the princess treatment when you insisted on going with them. You’re pretty sure that was just a ruse to keep you seated in his lap.
You were floating on cloud 9 the entire week afterwards with one of the boys by your side at any given moment. While that wasn’t necessarily new, knowing why they were there made a world of difference. 
You spent hours in the library with Remus sharing shy glances, gentle touches, and sitting far closer to one another than was strictly necessary. 
James and Sirius would show up with food or drinks for you two, but Sirius would eventually convince James to “leave the boring swots to their books, Prongsie” by promising him a race around the quidditch field on their brooms.
James made a solid (and embarrassing) effort to sit beside you everywhere. Great Hall – he sat beside you. Gryffindor common room – he sat beside you. Classes you had together – he sat beside you. Classes you didn’t have together – he tried to sit beside you before Flitwick took five points from Gryffindor and kicked him out.  
And Sirius appeared to simply enjoy your presence. One rarely ever saw Sirius Black without him speaking, smirking, or the likes; but it appeared he enjoyed your company for the solace that it was. Most of your time spent together was in companionable silence, or him asking you to tell him all about your day, your week, your life. James said he was sure this was the longest he'd ever gone without having to listen to Sirius’ voice – Sirius swatted his ass for that.  
But the way the rest of the school saw it: nothing had changed.
Which is why when you watched Emmeline approach the Gryffindor table with a look of determination painting her features, you had to hide your laugh behind your hand.
“Hello, handsome boys.” She said cheerily as she sat beside Sirius. He looked to James sat across from him before his eyes shot to you.
“Hello, Emmeline.” James said politely. 
“Where have you boys been? I feel like I never get to see you anymore.” She carried on, either unaware or undeterred by the boys’ lack of interest.
“Mm, here and there.” James said suspiciously, moving his body so he was sat straddling the bench and facing you, effectively pointing his back to Emmeline.
“Mostly with Y/N.” Sirius added pointedly.
Emmeline grimaced at the mention of your name, but quickly saved face.
“That’s nice. Well, I was wondering if you guys were going to Hogsmeade this weekend?” She asked, voice sickly sweet. 
James seemed to remember something at the mention of Hogsmeade. “Actually, yeah. Moons, you need more chocolate, right?”
Remus blushed a little but nodded in the affirmative. “We’re running low since someone stress ate most of the reserve.” He said pointedly, shooting Sirius a glare.
Apparently, Sirius had been so nervous about asking you to be official (Sirius Black: nervous? Who knew?) that he’d ransacked Rem’s stash.
Sirius – not one to be shame-faced – shrugged with all the nonchalance he could muster. “Don’t worry your pretty little mind, my moonshine – I’ll replenish your reserves and then some.” He declared.
“Great!” Emmeline said with a clap of her hands, clearly unable to manage the conversation as it steered further and further away from her. “I was thinking the four of us could go together!”
She had placed one of her hands on Sirius’ bicep and you felt your face turn red from repressing your laughter. Lily would be losing her mind right now.
Sirius looked at the hand with a look of half confused concern and half disgust before he used the forefinger and thumb of his opposite hand to peel it off of him and place it gingerly onto the table.
“Well, I know that the four of us were going to go.” James clarified as he motioned between himself, Sirius, Remus, and you. “I’m sure Lily, Pete and the others will be going as well, so you’re welcome to ask to tag along with them.” 
Undeterred, Emmeline carried on. “Come on, boys. We used to have a lot of fun together! I thought we could pick up where we left off.” She sing-songed as she sent you a devious wink.
Sirius – with his flair for dramatics – slammed both hands onto the table and stood from his place before hopping onto the table, boots knocking over glasses and plates and reached down for you. 
“What?” You whispered in a little bit of horror.
“Up you go, my love.” He said loudly as he hauled you up to join him on the Gryffindor table. 
“Mr. Black.” You heard one of the professors call from the head table. You never fully understood the phrase die of embarrassment before, but you sure as hell did now. Your gravestone would read: Y/N L/N, gone too soon, killed by dramatic public display of affection.
Sirius, completely oblivious to your horror or thriving off of it (you were sure it was the latter), wrapped one arm around your shoulders and the other around your waist - dipping you so low you were sure your hair was getting into someone’s pancakes - and kissed you in front of the entire Great Hall. 
You could hear cheering and wolf whistles as he kept you suspended for a few moments before he pulled you back up to your full height.
“I am so bloody mad about you.” He shouted out for everyone to hear. More students cheered and whistled as Professor McGonagall shouted “Mr. Black, get down this instant! 15 points from Gryffindor and detention with me tonight.” 
“Worth it.” Sirius said with a smirk as he shot a glance to Emmeline.
“In case that wasn’t clear enough, we’re very taken.” He added with finality as Remus helped you down from your place on the table and Sirius took your previously vacated seat beside James, and Emmeline stalked off.
You shoved your face into Remus’ side as he offered you refuge under his arm.
“Oh, my poor dovey. Did he embarrass you?” He cooed as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
You moaned in a way you hoped portrayed a resounding ‘yes’. 
“I’m sorry. They’re the worst sometimes.” He commiserated with you. 
Feeling slightly less flustered, you pulled your head away from his ribs, though you stayed glued safely to his side. 
“You weren’t innocent in all of that, doll face.” Sirius accused you from across the table.
“I beg your pardon?” you asked feigning innocence.
“You knew exactly what she was doing when she came over here. You didn’t feel the need to mark your territory?”
You scoffed. “First of all, I’m not a dog; I don’t ‘mark’ territory. Second, you’re not my territory, you’re my boyfriends. And thirdly… well, you seemed to have handled her fine on your own.” You said as you pointed your nose up in the air.
“Ah, I get it. You just wanted to watch your sexy man turn down a girl by stating how madly in love he is, hm?” He smirked at you.
You suddenly wished you’d stayed in Remus’ rib cage. 
1K notes · View notes
hyperfixat · 1 year
Text
How they show affection, demon brothers!
roughly ~700 words :3 side characters ver
Mammon bites.
Seeing how quickly Mammon took to you, he started showing affection around day three of knowing you, after forming your pact. At first you thought he was sniffing your hair, and maybe you needed new conditioner, but then you felt the graze of teeth on the lobe of your ear and a gentle bite.
You don’t react, save for a mild blush, and Mammon’s makes an oddly bird-like chiro, before pulling away from you.
“What was that?”
“What was what?”
“You bit me,” you acusse. It’s not like you’re mad, but knowing why might be nice.
“Stupid human, you’re imagining things,” and if you didn’t believe him from the tone of his voice the aggressive sunburnt red that eclipses his whole face shows he doesn’t mean it.
Satan headbutts.
It took a while for Satan to be affectionate with you, maybe shortly after the Lucifer slash London incident was when he first rammed his (thankfully horn-less) head into your arm. You thought he just bumped into you, maybe he stumbled and to spare him embarrassment, you didn’t mention it.
But then it happened again, this time he made eye contact with you before shoving his scalp into your chest. You melted.
Satan’s so sweet to you, for real for real.
Lucifer purrs.
Now don’t ask him or accuse him of purring because he will deny it, vehemently.
((The Avatar of Pride does not purr, don’t be ridiculous, MC. (Lying through his teeth.))
You only had the opportunity to hear it once in your first year at RAD, the night before you left, he had let you hold his head in your lap and bask in the warmth of your stomach and thighs in between the other activities you did that night.
Lucifer’s eyes has lidded and he gaze up at you with near heart shaped pupils, eyes nearly completely red, and a low rumble began in his chest.
At first you had thought he was growling and you did something wrong, but when you had stiffened up for a brief instance, Lucifer had snuggled his face deeper into your skin.
Asmodeus rattles.
You can’t see where it’s coming from, but it sounds like a baby rattle or the rattle of a snake.
“MC!” [aggressive rattling]
It was really confusing the first couple times and you had to eventually ask if there was a bug somewhere. Asmo, naturally, got offended, but as soon as you told him it was okay and you were just curious, he tells you it means he’s happy.
Cutie Patootie!!
Belphegor licks.
Belphie doesn’t give short little kitten licks, he gives long, drawn out licks across whatever he can access easiest (usually your neck or chest). His tongue is rough and tends to feel a bit scratchy against your skin and sometimes catches on your clothes.
The first time it happened was shortly after the attic incident, and you had thought you were alone in your bed and nearly had a heart attack when a lazy, oddly thick tongue went over your exposed forearm.
You, as one does when startled, screamed.
Belphie leans upward with a grumble, eyes alert though. “What’re you screamin’ about, MC?”
Beelzebub bites and buzzes.
He tries to keep it to just licks, he knows his teeth are sharp :( and he’d hate to hurt you by accident. But after you get your pact and harming you becomes much more unbearable, he will play-bite much more often.
AND he buzzes (like a fly, teehee) when he is especially content.
Leviathan purrs(?).
It’s probably some deep sea monster echolocation thing, but the closest you can describe it as is a purr.
Now getting him to purr is harder than getting Lucifer to purr, he gets up in his own head a lot, so usually when he’s sleepy he purrs (maybe it’s a trill?) into your side.
Bonus for Memphis, TN. (Mephisto)
Since we have not seen his demon form (thx solmare), I have to use what I know of my babygirl to guess what he is like.
I think he probably taps MC with his cane, like a poke or something idk it’s cute give me more mephisto content pls.
4K notes · View notes