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e-nonsense · 13 days

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─── 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩

pairing. prince!jason todd x witch!reader

summary. royal au. bruce doesn’t approve of his son’s relationship with constantine’s pupil/ward , not that jason cares

warnings. pet names: little pet, darling. Tooth rotting fluff i guess?

a/n. fuck writers block. three fits in less than 12 hours? crazy. might make this an au, so feel free to send requests based on this au to find out more

wc. 1.1k not proofread

Jason rolled his eyes as another young woman walked away from him, throughly offended. This had been one of Bruce’s many attempts to find his so a suitable woman— one that wasn’t you.

After Dick had married Princess Koriand'r and left to live with her in her kingdom, Jason had become the sole heir to Bruce’s kingdom. Being the second oldest of his siblings. But before any of that Jason had fallen in love with you.

“Lost young prince?” your voice comes from trees, and Jason glances around frantically. His hunting expedition had gone horribly wrong, a group of trickster illusionists had scared his men and the horses away. Leaving Jason behind.

“Who’s there?” He ask, raising his sword while turning in a circle, his eyes land on you as you step out from the shadows. The sun makes your eyes glow and Jason thinks you’re the most beautiful things he’ll ever see. His guard is lowered, as his eyes scan you up and down, taking in your beauty before moving back to your eyes.

You chuckle and he swears someone had to have casted a love spell on him, he can’t take his eyes of you. “Are you allowed to be this deep in the forest?” You ask and he gulps nervously as you step closer to him, your simple grey dress trailing behind you. “I’m surprised you made it through all the wards I put up around here.”

“Plus the Chimera,” you hum thoughtfully.

“Can you not speak?” You ask, inching closer till you’re in his personal space. “Apologies,” you smile.

“No.. no I can speak.” He whispers, staring down at you before sheathing his sword.

“Oh,” your smile widens. “Well, would you like to join me for tea?” You offer, and Jason knows he should’ve hesitated before nodding but he couldn’t help it. The excitement in your eyes when he agreed would be worth it if you were truly planning on killing him. Either way he let you lead him through the trees to a cottage that past the border of the land of witches and warlocks.

“At least try to entertain the thought, Todd.” Damian scoffed watching as another possible — approved — suitor walked away. “Father has gained many grey hair because of your devotion to the witch.” Truthfully Damian had no problem with you, he thought you were a perfect fit for his brother. Kind, loyal, able to put up with Jason’s moods.

It was just Bruce’s paranoia getting in the way of everyone’s peace. When the king had found out about you, he called in a favour from a warlock to get rid of whatever love spell you placed on his son. Safe to say John Constantine was amused by the request but assured Bruce that there was no spell on Jason and the boy’s infatuation with you was purely Jason.

Jason rolled his eyes at the thought, “or Bruce just needs to get over it.” He retorted, crossing his arms scowling as another pride princess tried to near him. “I’m leaving,” Jason says, looking over at Bruce as he makes his escape.

It didn’t take long for Jason to escape the palace grounds, through he was sure he had ripped his suit jacket, not that he’d see the stupid peace of fabric as he’d already dumped his clothes for a simple white poet shirt and some black riding pants. He rode his stallion to the forest’s entrance, stopping in front of it and trying it’s lead to a flimsy fence.

The prince entered the forest with no care, the protective wards shimmered as he entered, and the path illuminated in the darkness. Something you had done so he wouldn’t lose himself in the woods when he’d run from the palace and seek comfort in your cottage.

He quickly followed the path, passing the border and swiftly making his way to your home. When he arrived Jason knocked on the door softly, waiting for you to answer.

The door is answered a few seconds later, revealing a tall blond. The man groans, rolling his eye, “not you again.” He grumble, a cigarette dangling from his finger as he opens the door properly. “Kid! Your boyfriends here!” John calls out as he swings his coat over his shoulder, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he pats his pockets down looking for a lighter before snorting and lighting it with his fingers.

“Well go on in,” John shrugs, stepping out of the cottage you called home. “Oh, tell her to stop sending her little ravens to check on me, will ya?” John adds before disappearing into the misty pathway.

Jason always wondered how the man never found himself lost, or perhaps John never had somewhere specific he’d ever be going, cant be lost with no destination.

The second Jason stepped into the cottage he was met with the sight of you humming a tune, the same one he heard when the two of you met. Jason smiled, walking closer until he could wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Hi love,” you say as soft spoken as always. His eyes watched as you peeled potatoes before he kissed your cheek gently, “hi sweetheart.” He mumbled in return.

“How was the ball?” You asked, mainly teasing but with some curiosity.

“Missed you,” he huffed like a child, “Bruce is always trying to set me up with princesses. Who wants those snobby little bastards? Not me.” He complained.

“Just because Dick married a princess— who by the way comes from a magical bloodline— he thinks I’m going to do the same. Kori’s nice and all but how is it fair? Just because she’s royalty, its okay that Dick married her.”

You sigh softly, “he’s trying to protect you. People have never trusted those who come from this side of the world, faes, witches, shapeshifters. Sometimes with good reason, not all of us have good intentions.”

“But you do,” Jason retorts. “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met, and i don’t say want anyone that isn’t you…. Is there a way that i could stay here with you?” He asks and you shake your head.

“Not without your father starting a war, we don't want a repeat of 1843.”

Jason groans but understands, Bruce would assume the worst if Jason just disappeared again, especially now that he was with you. He’d assume you’ve kidnapped him or some bullshit to feed his ideals.

“Can i stay for the night then?” He murmurs softy, his nose nudhung your cheek. “I just wanna love you before going back.”

You find your resolve melting away when you meet his eyes, blue and green. “One night, then home.” You nod.

“You are home,” he mumbles in response but doesn’t press further, instead the rest of the night is filled with laughter as you teach him a new recipe he’ll be sure to share with Alfred.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd #jason todd drabble #jason todd oneshot #royal au #witch!reader #jason todd x witch!reader #enzo writes [📝]

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neo-novaa · 1 year

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marital duties

synopsis: king george x reader, loosely based on this ask,

the sun was burning against your back, the only cold solace being from the wet dirt that riddled your hands.

“you’ve got to be careful pulling that one out,” george— farmer george says to you. it’s a carrot, you’ve grown to recognize them by their leaves. “reach deeper into the ground. if you pull it from the leaves, they’ll rip.

you nod, digging your hands into the dirt, but not before you hear george inhale sharply. you turn, worried, finding his lips in a stern line and his brows furrowed.

“what is it?” you ask, interest peaked.

“you’re still not doing it right.”

you scoff, releiving your hands of the moist soil, and unceremoniously brushing them against your silk dress. it was far beoynd saving, sticky with sweat, stained with soil, the wonderful pastels now tainted with shades of brown.

“i’m reaching into the dirt.” you retaliate, flicking away the dirt from under your nails.

it’s his turn to scoff. “barely. you didn’t even get your palms in there.”

wiping the last chunk of mud away from your hands, you turn to him with an unapproving glare. “fine then, i’ll dig deeper.”

you dive in, wrist deep—

“no, now you’ve gone past the root entirely.” he scolds, shuffling over to the carrot you’ve been spending far too much time trying to pick out.

“let me show you,” georges hands envelop yours, his soft palms a sudden reminder of this very temporary escape.

only an hour, that’s all the time you got in a day to pretend that this was your life; to pretend that he was nothing more than farmer george, and you were nothing more than his wife.

“you have to say close to the stem,” he whispers, as if people are watching— as if this isn’t the only time in their entire lives where people weren’t watching.

he gently curls your fingers so that the tips run down the slimy side of the vegetable, nearly reaching the bottom.

“now,” he’s impossibly close, his warm breath against your neck almost making you shudder. “pull!”

he fists your hands and tugs at the carrot with a comical amount of strength. so much so that it causes the two of you to fall over, hands enveloped in each other, grasping a muddy carrot.

“now do you understand?” he says through laughter, and you’re struggling to speak with how much you’re laughing with him. the backside of your dress is now caked in a layer of mulch and dirt. if it was able to be fixed a minute ago, it was far past salvageable now.

“i think i understand.” you finally say through an onslaught of giggles, sitting up once his hands leave yours.

they’re quick to find you again, gently covering your bare shoulders, shielding you from the blazing heat for almost a moment.

you meet his loving eyes scanning your face, taking in every detail as if he’d forget it– as if he’d let his mind do that to him.

one of his hands runs along the side of your face, grasping your chin. “you’ve no idea how beautiful you are.”

you can’t help but roll your eyes. you don’t need a mirror to guess your current state: hair a mess, face riddled with streaks of mud, stuck to your face from how much you’ve been sweating.

“george–” you barely get to say his name before he’s kissing you, dirtied hands finding your place along your jaw. you share the sentiment, your own hands caked in soil are muddying his hair, pulling him closer to you.

his hands find your waist, pulling you on top of him. they wander up to your chest, down to your hips, and settle on your thighs.

you pull away, gasping, lungs aching from the lack of air. georges breath are matching yours: strong, heavy, wanting.

you’re about to go in again when you hear feet shuffling on gravel only a few feet away.

“brimsley.” you grumble.

“reynolds.” he mutters.

your right-hand men borh bow deeply. “your majesties,” brimsley says, standing up with perfect posture.

“yes, yes, i know,” you stand up, brushing off the layer of dried soil on your knees, as if it does anything to help. george doesn’t bother with the stains, almost as if he knows that any attempts to clean his farmer trousers would be futile.

“hours up.” you say with a disappointing sigh, and almost scream at the way that brimsley nods curtley.

“says who?” george is grabbing your wrist, catching your attention and reeling it back to him. “i am the king, and you, my queen. there is no one who can tell us what to do.”

“george?” you barely manage to say, standing blankly, fighting the urge to drop your jaw.

“all i’m saying is…” he begins to pull you towards your home, not-so discreetly eyeing your chest. “we have other marital duties to attend…do we not?”

“george!” it’s more like a scorn this time, your gaze quickly darting over to brimsley and reynolds who, as if they were statues, have barely moved since they appeared. unlike him, you’re not used to sharing your thoughts around people.

“come on!” he’s tugging you onto the gravel path, and all you can do is roll your eyes and hike up your dress while running off to perform your… “marital duties.”

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #king george iii #king george iii bridgerton #king george iii x reader #king george smut #bridgerton smut #bridgerton netflix #king george #king george x reader #netflix queen charlotte #✧. ┊ bridgerton !

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polyphonial · 9 months

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👆👆 these guys

[Image ID: A digital mostly uncoloured monochrome four panel comic of Cecil Palmer and Carlos the scientist. Cecil is a thin person with a long face and shoulder length hair. She has a moustache, wears cat eye glasses and has visible eyelashes. She wears a shoulder-less top with ripped sleeves (one of them in sequins) that says "Believe" on it, a spiky shoulder-piece, cargo pants, knee high converse and earrings which are small candles. Carlos is a fat man with curly hair in a short low ponytail and some facial hair on his chin. He has large square glasses behind which you can't see his eyes. He wears a shirt with a ringed planet print and a lab coat.

In the first panel, Cecil (simply drawn) walks in joyfully into their home, a bag and her telescoping cane hanging from her elbow. She walks out of an open door, saying: "Hi Carlos~ Guess what I got-" before she cuts herself off.

In the second panel, Carlos stands in the kitchen, over the sink. He is holding a mango in his hand, his sleeves rolled up. The lower half of his face, as well as his arms up to his elbows are covered in mango juice. He has a blank expression. Text next to him reads: "devouring his fourth mango".

The third panel is the same, except Carlos smiles and says: "Hey Cecil".

The last panel is a close-up of Cecil's face. She has cartoonishly large and sparkly eyes and smiles widely with hearts around her. The thought bubble next to her reads: "G-d he is so beautiful and perfect" with a heart symbol at the end. End ID.]

#scribbles #wtnv #cecil palmer #carlos the scientist #cecilos #wtnv fanart #wtnv cecil #welcome to night vale #wtnv carlos

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ann-ann-alan · 2 months

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Angel Dust x Satan!M!Reader

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Word count: ~1.6K

TW: Talk about what Valentino has done to Angel Dust. Angel and Val's extremely toxic relationship.

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Angel's eyes flapped open slowly as the light shined through the curtains of his room at the hotel. For once in his afterlife he felt well rested. He felt so safe and warm cuddling up to his new boyfriend. If only Valentino could be this nice. Valentino. Angel's mind began racing at the thought of his cruel boss, a man that had made him suffer so much, and he would have to go back to him today. Every day until the end of time, or until Angel died. Again.

"Stop thinking about Val." You said as you pat the top of your boyfriend's head. "He's not here. I am. You're safe with me, you know that right?" Angel felt your hands on his face, lightly caressing him, so soft, so caring. "Of course I trust you."

"Good" You kissed him deeply as you swiftly picked him up bridal style. He let out a little squeak at your actions. "Don't worry my little divine being, I won't drop you."

You suddenly turned into a smaller man. A man named Saturn. That's the fake name you had gone for as it was kind of close to your real one. No one could know you were Satan. What would happen if it was revealed that the most powerful of hells beings, second only to Lucifer himself, was staying at a hotel for redemption and was dating a sinner? Hell would be chaos, well, more than it already is anyway.

"I love Saturn and all, but I really wish I could see your real face more often." Angel presses a light kiss to your cheek. "I do too honey, I really wish I could be myself but you know what could happen if people found out about us. It could get real dangerous."

----------------->

You and Angel walked down the steps of the hotel towards the bar where Husk was cleaning glasses.

You and Angel sat on the stools at the bar. As he was rabbling on you couldn't stop yourself from staring at him. His pretty face, beautiful hair, big eyes, and that cute little chest fluff. He was perfect. If only you could truly be with him.

Your train of thought gets interrupted by Angel's phone going off. "Guess I got to get to work." He stared down at his phone sadly, defeated. "Bye Sweetums." He kisses your forehead and heads for the door.

"You really hate Val don't you?" Husk utters, wiping a shot glass down. "What makes you say that?" "Your claws are out and you're ruining my counter." You look down to see both your hands ripping into the counters wood. "Oh sorry. I just- I hate him." Your eyes glowed red. You wished you could rip the head off that disgusting moth. There's nothing wrong with lust (you are good friends with Asmodeus) as long as it's consensual. And Val was anything but.

"Why do you care so much? Angel's just a fling." Husk said starring at your enraged state. "What no! I- well- I- I love him ok?! And I can't keep seeing Val rip my boyfriend apart over and over again!" You love him. You just said it. Husk stared at you with a knowing smirk. "Look, I get you love him and you want to keep him safe but there ain't nothing you can do about a soul contract. He's stuck with Val. Forever." Husk frowned, of course he knew about deals with souls, he made one.

Suddenly an idea comes into your brain. "But what if the contract was broken?" Husk looked at you strangely. "There ain't no way to break a soul contract." "But what is they could be? Would that free him? Would he truly be safe?" You muttered more to yourself then Husk. "Well yeah? But like I said, there ain't no wa-" You put your hand over his mouth. "But what if I could do it? What if I could break the contract?"

"You can't."

"But what if I could?"

"You can't"

"But what if I could?"

"You ca- YOU CAN NOT! Soul contracts don't just break, they just don't. It's better to just give up now."

You could do it. I mean, you're LITERAL SATAN. YOU are the contractor. All soul contracts get run by you. That's your job. You remember when you first came across Angel's contract. You thought nothing of it, just another hopeless sinner who needed a job. Just another hopeless sinner you were now deeply in love with. You could do it. If Valentino willingly showed you Angel's contract, it was over. One touch and the contract would be gone, reduced to ashes and Angel would be free. But everyone would know who you really are. Only one person could break contracts, only one. Satan. Your reputation would be tarnished.

But you would do ANYTHING for the one you love.

----------------->

Angel was tired, he had already filmed three intense scenes and Val only wanted more, just like always.

"Alright my little Angel, you'll be filming one more scene and then you'll come to my office ok?"

Oh god not his office, never his office. Angel couldn't count the amount of unhappy memories he's had in that office. Angel wanted his boyfriend, his real boyfriend, not Val.

"Is there a problem Angel Dust?" Val sneered. "No, no, not at all Val, everything's fine." "Alright then, why wait? Let's go to my office now."

Panic hit Angel like a truck. "Wait now?! I thought I had another scene to film?!" Angel was almost hyperventilating. He couldn't go in there with Val, he couldn't. Not again.

"You said there was no problem. Let's GO!" Val roughly grabs Angels arm and yanks it towards him. "You better behave Ang, you wouldn't want to hurt my feelings would you?" Val looked at him with a disturbing smile. Angel looked into those bright red bug eyes, he was scared, really scared. Scared just like he was when Val made that deal with him.

"Excuse me." Val and Angel looked to the side and found you standing there. "Sata-Saturn what are you doing here?" Angel says. "You know this guy?" Val released Angels wrist and walked towards you. "I'm Val, well you definitely already know me so... Angel said your name was what, Saturn? That's quite a strange name for a sinner." Val held his hand out for you to shake, you just starred at it with your arms crossed. "Well, um, you must be here for a job right? Angel must of told you about me!" Val said as he retracted his hand. "I actually came here because I wanted to take my boyfriend back home."

"What in the hell are you doing?!" Angel whispered to you as he held your arm, almost trying to hide from Val. Valentino noticed this. "Your HIS boyfriend? MY Angels boyfriend? That's a funny joke." Val said almost as a threat, 'it better be a joke.'

"Oh it's no joke. And Angel isn't yours." You stood protectively in front of him. "Oh! But he is. He is MINE. FOREVER." Val says, starting to get angry.

"Baby, you should go..." Angel said from behind you, clutching the back of your shirt with all his hands.

"Yeah, you should listen to him Saturn." Val smirked down at you.

"Let me see it." You utter, holding your hand out in front of you.

"See what?" Val crosses his arms and sneers at you. Looking at you up and down. Judging.

"Let me see the contract that has Angel tied to you. One look at it and I'll leave you alone, forever. You have my word."

Val looks at you suspiciously. "Sure, whatever." He makes the contract apear right in front of you.

You reach out for it and pretend to read over it, but all you could really stare at was the signature at the bottom.

"Well?! Are you happy know? LEAVE!" Val says. He was getting angry. His little play thing had a boyfriend? Who was interrupting his job? What a little BRAT!

"Actually.... I was thinking something a little.... different." Suddenly the contract set ablaze in blue fire, the paper disintegrating.

"WHAT?!?" Val stepped back. HOW?! How was that possible?! How could you do tha- "You're not REALLY named Saturn are you?"

Val could barely get that sentence out before you pushed him to the ground. "You are a pest Valentino. And I'm not afraid to CRUSH you."

Your eyes turned beep red, you gained back your height, long red horns like a ram came out of your head.

"YOU stay AWAY from MY BOYFRIEND! If I EVER see you near him again, you will see the full strength of wrath, you disgusting bug!"

Val stares at you in fear, laying on his elbows, tying to crawl away from you.

"Whoa, whoa! Don't kill 'im baby!" Angel set his hand on your shoulder. Looking back at him all you could see was the man you loved. The FREE man you loved.

"Lets get out of here."

---------------->

"You sure that was a good idea? People know who you are now." Angel said, cuddling into your side as you both sat on the hill of the Hazbin Hotel, looking over the rest of hell.

"That's ok with me. You mean more to me than some stupid reputation I barely cared about in the first place." You pressed both your hands to the sides of his face. "No matter what happens I will always be there with you. Through Earth, Hell, Hay! Even heaven if Charlie's plan works out!" You plant a gentle kiss to his lips.

"I love you for eternity my darling."

"I love you too big guy."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel angel dust #angel dust #x reader #x satan!reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x oc #angel dust x reader #angel dust x male reader

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teddynottss · 1 month

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• - PHYSICAL TOUCH - •

PAIRING(S): theodore nott x fem. reader !!

WARNING(S): use of y/n? swearing, fighting, kissing, drinking, fingering.

SUMMARY: at a party, theodore gets into a fight with a guy dancing with y/n, and she somehow ends up in his bed later that night.

A/N: this is my first time ever writing something like this so lmk if i can do anything to improve this !!

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After winning the quidditch match against Hufflepuffs, the Slytherins decided to throw a party, all houses invited, to celebrate their win.

You and your homegirls all got dressed up and ready for the party, and as you entered the room, attention was grasped from all 4 houses.

Your short black dress fit your curves perfectly which made everyone’s heads turn toward you, boys and girls, Ravenclaws and Slytherins, anyone and everyone.

You grab a few drinks and talk to a handful of people as the alcohol hadn’t kicked in yet and you weren’t in the mood to dance. On your way to grab another drink, a tall figure pushes you hard and you fall down.

You hear a “shit” from someone underneath you. Fuck. You had landed on someone’s lap, you turn your head and to your surprise, its theodore.

Now, you didnt exactly like the boy, he would always find ways to talk about your actions or make rude and mean comments about anything he could.

You apologized as you felt him tense under you and as you tried to get up, he pulled you back in to his lap, “maybe i like where you are sweetheart”.

“You stupid drunk fuck,” you laughed “i could punch you right now”

“I do love physical touch darling” he replies

You then giggle as you jump up from his lap. One of your friends then pulls you into the dancing circle. The alcohol had started to kick in and in a few minutes you were dancing your heart out.

Suddenly, you feel someone’s hand on your waist, the Hufflepuffs’ quidditch captain. He was tall, and attractive so you decided to go with flow and danced with him. Suddenly you feel his hand rip off from your waist and he’s on the floor in no longer than 3 seconds.

Theodore nott came storming and punched him hard, which caused the poor boy to come crashing down on the floor. “oh my god!” You gasp, loud.

The brunette then grabs your hand and leads you out the crowd that had formed around the scene. Once you were outside, he gave you no time before leading you back to his dorm.

When you get there his anger has disappeared, it has been replaced with a feeling you can’t quite catch. You immediately start speaking, “what the actual fuck nott! Why would you do that? You hurt the boy really bad!”

“Holy fuck you are beautiful, you are actually breathtaking woah” he says.

“You are so drunk oh my lord.”

“I didn’t drink y/n”

“Wh-“ and before you could finish, he pushed you to the wall and started kissing you hungrily.

Fucking hell.

Theodore then placed his hand on your thigh and gave it a little squeeze earning a little gasp from you and a chance to slip his tongue in which you welcomed it.

The Slytherin boy then helped you get rid of your dress leaving just your panties on before laying you on the bed. He kept kissing you then moved to your neck and started leaving kisses everywhere including you breasts and stomach.

“You are so beautiful oh my dear god.” to that, you giggled.

“I guess you do like physical touch then nott,” you tease.

Theodore then took his time removing your panties to reveal your already wet pussy. “So wet already, baby you’re so perfect holy fucking fuck.”

He then spread your legs further and started teasing you “listen to me nott, if you don’t do something right now, i will.” That made the boy go crazy which made him start eating you out like a starved man.

Your breath was heavy, it was the only sound heard in the room, you also tugged at his hair which made him go faster and harder.

You’ve never felt this before, he was so desperate, like he’s never done this before, like he can’t get enough.

“Theo, im gonna.. Theodore im about to” and just like that, he pulls out. “Not that easy beautiful, im not done just yet.”

“Oh you fucking tease” you say.

He smiles and then suddenly in a quick movement, two of his fingers are inside you, you slap your hands on your mouth to cover the sounds that might leave it.

Theo then removes you hand “scream all you want darling, i wanna hear it, i wanna hear you say my name”

“Theooo” you coo.

His movements start getting faster and he adds a third finger, “theooo god dammit”

“y/n, you need to learn to never touch a man thats not me ever again or else i will fucking rip his eyes out, i will break both of his arms off, say that youre mine”

“mhmm” you mumble as waves of pleasure took over you body.

“Use your words baby” he says as he speeds his movement.

“Im all yours theo, all yours, no one else, just you.”

“Good girl, now do it, cum on me” he replies.

“FUCKKK, GODDD.. THEOOO” you scream as you release onto his fingers.

He then carefully removes his fingers from inside of you before licking your cum off his fingers. “Fuck you taste amazing” he says before jumping up and turning the shower on to clean you up.

later..

After getting all cleaned up, theo pulls you on top of him and covers you both with the blanket, “i think i do like physical touch, just from you y/n”.

You kissed his chin in response giggling before slowing falling asleep embraced in his arms.

#theodore nott #theodore nott fanfiction #slytherin #harry potter #smut

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strawberrysnoopy · 1 month

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ACT ONE: The Photoshoot, Part Three of Four

prologue, part one, part two. warnings: tobacco, smoking, alcohol use, briefest mention of using alcohol as a coping mechanism, mentions of infidelity (as always), ada slander at times (sorry), texting for a while, leon's a bit of a perv,

author's note: btw I left the husband without a name so there's no overlap on you and your husband having the same name and you live in new york due to the modeling thing. I also try my hardest to keep the reader ambiguous because I realize that skinny, quirky, white girls aren't the only ones that read this series: if there's anything you'd like to recommend or change in the writing to be more reader-friendly, drop in my inbox and let me know! :) thank you guys so much for all the reblogs and 100 FOLLOWERS AHHH!! thank you thank you thank you!

The warmth of your fingers working against his cool and paled skin had him melting like a runny ice cream cone in your hands. His hand was on your hip, rubbing loving circles like he was trying to commit the warm feel of your flesh into his memory. This was the type of life he envisioned when he was younger: married to someone he loved deeply with every crevice of his being. He thought Ada was the person for him, but that was such a costly and emotionally unbalanced guess. "Thank you, honey." You nod in response, applying the rest of the stitching to his busted lip. His hands dare to move a little higher on your hips, squeezing your waist and getting some sick pleasure out of the way your breath stopped in embarrassment. The scene was perfect, just a good ol’ friend taking care of her busted up pal. Leon hated that he couldn’t find you earlier, sooner, before he could even lay eyes on Ada Wong. She had her charms, sure, but there was something about the soft lull of your presence, how gentle you were, how caring you could be with others that had his heart fluttering in his chest. He still can't believe out of all the places he could've met you, it was at a store while you were buying a bottle of wine for yourself and your husband. "Met" would have to be an overrated word in his dictionary. The truth was that Leon had first laid eyes upon you in a magazine. They had released their February shoot that show-cased entrepreneurial photographers on the rise, climbing their way to the top without a care in the world who they scratched on their way there. You happened to be the diamond in the rough, making everyone else's cliche photographs of "lust" or "revenge" or "innocence" themes seem drab. Your theme? Limerence. Beautiful, simmering, and chilling limerence. Your hair was pieced together lazily but curled neatly, wearing simple yet cryptic tops and little boy shorts that lovingly cradled your ass. The rookie photographer that snapped your photos had done a stellar job at making it seem like you were one of those once in a lifetime girls you met in college. He still had the magazine of course, stashed away in the depths of his closet: kept in pristine condition like a filthy little secret he loved to indulge in. "So..." He muses. He feels the little pause in your work, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "How long have you known? About your husband's infidelity?" You've always known. The first? A college girl in the first year of your "official" relationship Bubbly and vibrant and a fucking joy to be around. The kind of girl you see on ABC's 20/20 or some other type of true crime prime-time film. Your husband claimed it was a drunk hook-up. And the first time, you believed him. The second? A school teacher that looked, acted, and talked exactly like you. Maybe she was your long lost twin or some weird rip in the fabric of time and she happened to pop out. He claimed he was mad at you for the way you did laundry. You forgave him a second time, but you'd surely have a knife to his throat the third time.

"A while. It's just like some weird fact I live with, I guess. Like you have some chronic disease and it's something you deal with from time to time." He nodded, bringing your hand up to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss to your palm. He knows you don't deserve that. Nobody deserves that. Yet, he always wondered why you stayed. Your husband was an asshole, although that shouldn't be a term that leaves his lips due to the fact he's supposedly your husband's best bud, but for the sake of doing the holy honor of defending you: he was a cheating dick that didn't deserve to be maritally bound to a woman such as yourself. "Wouldn't you get a divorce? I don't mean to be like...rude or anything but I would've thought that you're the type of woman to leave his ass once he cheats." And you were. Headstrong, confident, and self-assured—he's never seen an insecure model before, or maybe that's some weird stereotype he's made in his head unconsciously. "It's a tough situation." And that's all you have to say about your marriage. He nodded, understanding your reluctance to speak on the subject. He can't say he's any different from you either considering his marriage to Ada, the very reason he can't be with you. Especially so intimately. It’s hard. The safety of it all. Having someone next to you at all times despite the shitty relationship. He knew.

Now the bathroom is silent. You’re still doctoring up his wounds while he sits up on the marble counter-top. He really wants to say something until you step in for him.

“I can’t believe you fucked my husband up like that.” You say, pulling your hands away from his face to find some more antibiotic cream. He hates that he feels his head moving forward to get your hands back on him. Pathetic. He feels pathetic, especially considering he beat the dog shit out of your husband when you graciously invited him into your home.

“I’m sorry—“ He begins, you stop him once more.

“No. Don’t apologize. I was thanking you.” He nods again, finding the motion of moving his head back and forth too repetitive. “So, thank you.”

He boldly takes your hand in his own, squeezing it and kissing the palm—feeling like he’s turning into a crazy man when your fingertips brush against his lower eyelids and cheeks.

“You’re welcome.” He releases your hand from his own, feeling guilty for not saying more to you. He feels as if you deserve more than silence, and to be honest, with everything you've gone through this week, you definitely do. "I know I said it already but I'm sorry for saying that I wanted to—" He pauses, not wanting to be so crude with his wording but throwing caution to the wind as he had already fucked everything up so far. "Said that I wanted to fuck you, that's not fair to you nor your husband."

"It's okay if you do." His heart pulses in his chest at those words. He had expected you to ignore it, maybe slap him if you were really pissed. But you agreed? What the fuck, it's like he's living in a fucking alternate universe. "It's not a crime to find someone else attractive. The only thing wrong is if you act on it." That was true, but it never took from how much he dreamed about you. The times he's jerked himself off while thinking of your gorgeous body on his mind had grown to a disgusting amount. Hell, it's gotten to a point where he doesn't even fight it anymore and Ada being in the house used to stop him, but not anymore. He'll just go up to the bathroom and rub one out with your magazine in hand. "Then I guess I'm attracted to you." Your cheeks flush red at the admission, flaring a brighter color when his hand grips your hip once more. And tighter, too. Jesus Christ, the way this whole situation had been playing out like a steamy porno. First, your husband was gone in the hospital. Second, Leon was brought into your home. Alone. Third, he admitted he wants to fuck you. No, he has to resist. You were right. It's not wrong to be attracted to someone other than your spouse but you had him wanting to act. Wanting to drag you down to the marital bed you share with your husband and fuck you senseless. "So, do you want to stay the night tonight? Considering your car is broken down and everything." You ask, your tone beautiful and raspy like it always is.

Oh, God. He's gonna fuck you.

tags:@heylesamis, @sweetserial, @iloveyousomuch1989, @galactict3a, @m1sery-busin3ss, @ssulfurr, @julia13123, @nic-stars, @stillhavingdaddyissues, @greywardensaywhat, @ressespearlz, @xqlenkdy, @g0rep1ty, @nomorekerkanymor,

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bedoballoons · 5 months

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─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎄𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎄

Albedo X Reader

{༻~Day4: Unwrapping the reader~༺}

CW: NSFW! MDNI! Gn! Bottom afab reader! Reader is wrapped in Christmas paper and nude underneath! Eating out, slight mention of orgasm denial, breeding kink, rough s*x, hair pulling, and creampie! Names used on the reader: Love, present, and beautiful

A/n: Albedo may be a little ooc and I apologize :p

Christmas masterlist

𑁍༄Albedo:

You gasped loudly as the cold air hit your skin, the wrapping paper you'd once been wearing torn right down the middle revealing your body to the man above you who stared down at you like you were a delicious christmas feast. You'd never guess it would turn you on seeing him rip the paper off of you, it was like he needed you right then and nothing would get in his way, even if you'd worn clothes.

"A-albedo-"

"Shhh, I haven't given my present permission to speak." His voice was threatening and it made goosebumps scatter across your skin, his lips kissing and suckling on your neck, trailing down your chest and stomach. He was taking his precious time with each one until he finally dipped his tongue inside your heat, licking up your wetness while you moaned and tugged at his hair.

He groaned happily as your pussy clenched around his tongue and your juices ran down his chin, dripping onto the wrapping paper that crinkled beneath you, scratching at your skin with every move either of you made. It was overwhelming, the grip he had on your thighs and the way he ate you up like you were heaven, how his eyes met yours ever so often so he could watch them flutter whenever he played with your clit.

"Nhhgh! A-albedo! Gonnnnhha c-cumm!"

He pulled away making you whine unhappily as he licked his lips, "Now love, you know we cum together, no exceptions~"

"B-but-"

He quieted you with a deep kiss, his hands working to undo his pants and remove more of the paper that had gathered around you, "No, exceptions." His words were hot on your lips and your breathing went erratic. He smirked at your reaction, clearly amused, "Beautiful."

Your cheeks flashed red and he simply chuckled, rubbing his tip against your entrance, listening to you gasp as he buried himself inside your tight pussy, "Ahhh, my present feels to good, so tight around me. What should I give you in return hmm~" He leaned in close, moving his hips slowly so his cock would dip in and out of you at the perfect pace to have you moaning but not finishing, "How about a baby, you want to carry me inside of you?"

You moaned louder, feeling your mind melt at the thought of carry his child, "Y-yes! P-please mnngh! Please!!"

"As you wish~" His pace quickened, his hips beating into yours and his cock reaching so deep inside of your womb you saw stars, your sounds only increasing in volume as heat built up in your core, "Ahhnhg! Albedo! C-cumming! Nnhhh!"

He pushed your body into the couch, fucking you into it as you came around him, back arching so perfectly as his hot cum poured into you, filling you up with him. He didn't stop moving until the wrapping paper beneath you was all but soaked and you were overflowing, until the last thing he could say of the night was a out of breath "Merry Christmas~"

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Merry Christmas~*⁠.⁠✧

#bedos christmas event #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin smut #albedo smut #albedo x reader #albedo x you #albedo headcanons #albedo fanfic

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astronomysturniolos · 1 month

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matt sturniolo x gf!reader

best birthday gift

warnings: smut, p in v, y/n, cussing, and fingering.

summary: it’s your bf matt’s 21st birthday and you want to make it special for him, make him feel good.

————————————————————————

the flick of the candle is the only sound in the house. usually it isn’t this quiet, dating matt for 2 years, everything has been noisy. but he’s out to dinner tonight, for his special day. he’s turning 21, and i wanted him to have a good time, even after he comes home.

the room is dark, the candle being the only light source available. i am standing in front of the mirror, vertically lined on our wall, showcasing all my curves, shadows, and imperfections. even if matt thinks their perfect. i am second guessing everything, until i hear the front door open. “hey, baby, i’m home” i hear matt yell from downstairs. oh god. i’m so nervous. what if he thinks i’m doing too much. what if he thinks this set is ugly, or even worse me. what if- my thoughts get shut off at the sound of matt saying my name.

“y/n? holy shit. you look edible.” he breathes out, staring me down. i take another look in the mirror, looking at the white flowery langerai i have on display, contrasting with my smooth, tanned skin. “do u like it?” i ask shyly. playing with the straps going down my thighs. “no, i don’t” matt replies seriously. i whip my head to face him, fear showing in between my furrowed brows. “i love it” he says after, a wide grin taking over his face.

a sigh of relief comes out of me as i run my hands through my newly straightened hair.

he makes his way over to to me, standing behind me, making eye contact through the same mirror i’ve been standing at for the last 15 minutes. he wraps his hands around my waist, flicking the straps in between his fingers. “you look so pretty baby, just right for me” he whispers. “yeah?” i respond. “mhm” he just mumbles before attacking my neck with his lips.

things get heated fast as our teeth clatter, our tongues fighting for dominance as we walk to the bed. ripping our clothes off on the way, the need to be naked is taking over our brains. once we are both fully nude, he hovers over me, disconnecting our lips. i flutter my eyes open and stare at his beautiful blue ones . and damn it he’s beautiful. the way he’s trying to catch his breath, his hair is covering his forehead, and his horse chain is dangling in my face. i just want to bring the chain in between my teeth and drag him into another kiss. “what’s on your mind?” he asks, wondering why i’ve just been silently staring at him. “i just love you so much” i say quietly, adoring how his eyes light up instantly. “i love you too baby” he says, leaving small kisses starting from my neck, then my shoulders. “so so much” he says in between another kiss landing just above my tits.

he latches his tongue on my right nipple, his hand groping the other. and fuck, this feels amazing. a moan escapes my lips as i dart my head back, the feeling blazing through my veins. “you like it huh?” he asks smugly, immediately returning to the dirty act. “mhm” i reply, my head shaking up and down to clarify as if my whines aren’t enough.

after a while of just him playing with my tits, the throbbing sensation in between my legs is getting hotter. “matt.” i say breathlessly, almost finishing just by him playing with me. “yes baby?” he asks, looking up at me, a grin on his face. “i need you.” i say. “do you now? what do you need?” i rub my legs together to add some friction, desperately trying to put the fire down. “i need your dick. in me. right. now.” i reply, more forward than i ever had any time we’ve fucked. usually he would initiate it, so he was a little shocked at my words. “look at you, so needy of me, are you now?” he asks, expecting no reply, but i give him one regardless. “yes, now fuck me” i say, putting my hands in his hair as i push him in between my legs.

he trails kisses down my thighs until he gets to my heat. “so beautiful aren’t you” he says before entering one of his fingers enter my hole, and i arch at the feeling, finally getting something. “more, please” i whine. he adds another finger in, my gosh. this is a great feeling. he thrusts his fingers in and out of my tight hole, curling them at times. a pornographic moan leaves my mouth, almost cumming at the feeling. “matt. please put your dick in me.” i say, starting to get impatient.

he lines his tip to my hole, pushing the tip through and we both groan. he balances himself with his hands on my bed frame, almost falling on me. and that damn chain. in my face, dangling like a puppy treat. i grab it in between my teeth, muffling my noises as he fully pushes his whole 8 inches in me. he lets me adjust to his size until i give him a nod of approval to continue. he almost fully pulls out before thrusting hard into me, making me let out a noise i’ve never made before, the necklace falling out of my mouth. “making you feel good? hm?” matt asks, sweat dripping down his nose, as my hands connect to his fluffy brunette hair. “yes matt, faster” i say, already feeling my release coming, considering i was close enough with just his two fingers.

his eyes trained on my tits bounces up and down as his thrusts begin to get sloppy “i’m so close baby, a little more” he says, then mumbling more words that i’m not sure are even making real sentences, but i’m too blurred to care. “me too” i say, right before i feel him hit the right spot, making me arch my back, moaning loudly.

he connects our lips, soaking up my whines, before he says “i’m cumming. shit. i’m cumming” “me too matt, me too” i repeat. before we connect our lips again. i feel one last thrust directly before he fills me up, staying on top of me, his sweat mixing with mine as it drips from above me. our breathes mixing together, as we pant for air, our lips touching but not connected.

after we rode out our highs, and settled down he pulls out. i wince at the feeling, suddenly empty. he plops next to me, looking over at me. “happy birthday baby” i say to him, putting my head in his bare chest, as i feel his hands rub up and down my back. “thank you my love, i love you” he replies tiredly, putting his chin on the top of my head, “i love you too” i say before sleep takes over both of us. guess he could say that was the best birthday gift ever.

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anna speaks: in honor of my birthday being in 2 days!! 😮😮 also i never wrote smut for matt and only wrote smut once before this so ntm pls🙏🏻

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rin-fukuroi · 2 months

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𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 [𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

If you want to support me and read my other works that won't be on Tumblr, you can always do it on my Boosty~

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Pairings: yandere!Sunday x fem!reader

Warnings: a bit of obsession and Sunday is the obvious stalker here, but no more triggers.

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. Loluet - I beg you

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

It's so mean to eavesdrop on your thoughts*, but Sunday just can't stop.

You think he's pretty cute when he gives you another gift. You think his appearance is quite attractive for your taste. You think that the smell coming from Sunday, when he accepts your grateful embrace, is so exquisite, to match a man of his position. You think you'd probably feel safe near him.

You think Sunday is a little intrusive. You think he probably has a lot of fans, because he's so handsome. You think that the attention of a man with such a high position on Penacony is burdensome, because you are clearly not his match, so why does he continue to behave as if he is in love with you? You think that you are anxious near him, even though you cannot find any explanation for this feeling that suddenly arises in his presence.

Your thoughts warm Sunday's soul, and they also wound him to a nagging pain in his chest.

He really would like to stop doing this, but he's ready to give you the whole world. Even the dreams in which you are so happy, he'll bring that to life, if you only wish. It's probably corny to mentally promise a star from the sky just for you, but Sunday's ready to make the sky itself fall at your feet if this is the price for your smile. But you don't want any of this. You don't want him.

Why?

It's really so damn hard for Sunday. Helplessness, such disgusting helplessness torments him day by day, while he listens to your voice all day long, wanting to hear what you remember about him. But, as soon as the farewell separates the two of you, such useless thoughts fill your head, in which he has no place. And it's cruel. You're so cruel, but Sunday can't be mad at you.

How pathetic he must look, covering his own face with wings to hide the way his cheeks turn red and the corners of his lips lift in a gentle smile at the mere memory of how your honey voice pronounces his name. But this is not enough. Why not color your voice with brighter colors? Maybe… Red notes that give your tone of adoration and passion? You'll want him, and you'll get him if you just call. Playful pink notes will desire him with airy tenderness. Oh, how beautifully his name will shimmer on your tongue.

«It seems like I've been on Penacony for so long… It's worth coming home»

No, no, honey. Why go back to a place where he's not?

«He's looking at me so strangely again, as if he can read my mind…»

You have a great intuition, that's commendable. Sunday admires you even when his honor as a man and family member is at stake.

«Will Sunday be upset if he finds out that I'm leaving this place soon? Probably not»

Oh, darling, where did you get such thoughts in your lovely head? You're breaking Sunday's heart. How can he let you go? Dreams will lose their magic without you, this beautiful little world will lose light without your smile, the whole universe will lose its voice without the sound of your laughter.

«I guess I should just thank him for everything»

Don't mention it. Sunday would do anything for you. Tell him to rip the heart out of his chest, and he will present you with a bloody pulsating muscle in his palm.

— Y/N, — again this charming smile adorns the already perfect face of a man when he stretches out his hand bending over your figure. — Your hair is disheveled.

He can touch your hair, right? Of course he can. He hears a voice in your head, and you want the same thing, you just can't admit it even to yourself. It's an attraction between you and him… You have to feel it the same way Sunday feels it. He'll help you again, he just need to tweak your memories a little. You'll share with him all the feelings that Sunday experienced all the time spent with you. Desire him, love him, be there for him. That's all he can ask of you. It only takes his palm to touch your cheek…

The heat penetrates into the pores, permeates the skin, flows into the veins, spreading throughout the body until it captures the mind with rainbow waves blurring the eyes. And only the image of Sunday is so clear. You look into golden eyes that meet you with piercing gaze, and you see in them so much pain, torment, from which an unpleasant bitterness knits on the tongue. And then the sweetness. A cloying but airy sweetness. Every piece of sugar that gets into your mouth melts on your tongue, and for some reason an unfamiliar taste evokes so many memories that you seemed to be cruelly deprived of, and now they have returned to you, responding with a tremor in your chest.

«Y/N… listen to my voice»

You know him. This tenderness with which a man pronounces your name is so painfully familiar.

«You're happy here next to me, Y/N»

He's right, but why do his words seem so wrong to you…

«Touch me, Y/N, put your hand on my chest and feel my heart pounding. Just like yours… Aren't we made for each other?»

Of course. Of course, you're made. You can feel it. Soft pulsations touch the fingertips, beating off a sweet melody, so lulling and causing an irresistible desire… But what do you want?

«You're mine, Y/N. And I'm yours, forever»

Exactly. And how could you forget?..

It is so warm and cozy, as if beloved hands are pressing you to your heart, rocking you to an alluring lullaby, involving you in a sweet dream. And it doesn't matter at all if this dream is viscous and sticky, like a spider's web woven just for you. He'll take care of you if you just give up.

— That's better, isn't it?

«Has Sunday always been so… beautiful?» — what kind of strange thoughts are going through your head? Of course, always. The hours spent remembering how pleasant his wings are to the touch, how soft his skin is under your fingers, how pleasant the sound of your name escaping from his lips is, flash before your eyes, like a living reminder of the truth that lurks somewhere so deep, but lying on the surface, if you only dare say it.

You love him. You love him with all your heart, so long ago and so unconditionally that you feel ashamed that you dared to doubt the perfection of his face, the very sight of which is enough to make a muscle in your chest tremble.

The man notices your slight confusion, and grins melodiously.

— I mean the hair, — long eyelashes hang over the irises, shimmering with gold, when Sunday tilts his head to one side, not taking his eyes off you and continuing to smile charmingly.

— Oh, yes … thank you, — you awkwardly look away, and your cheeks involuntarily blush. — You know, I wanted to ask you something.…

The gold is covered with an icy crust, sharp and tingling skin, over which Sunday's gaze slides while you shift from foot to foot, trying to find words.

— Can I… stay here? — you hesitantly look up at the man with an innocent look, quietly uttering the last words. — With you…

«If only he didn't say no… I won't survive this…»

Oh, you're so lovely. Charming, charming, charming.

The ice is cracking, defeated by the vibrations of your sweet voice, which appeals so imploringly to Sunday. Isn't this happiness?

The tips of elegant long gloved fingers rest on your chin, lifting your head before a kiss touches your lips. So needy, oozing with obsession and love, with insane awe, which now seem so familiar to you, as if these feelings were always somewhere nearby, but burst into your heart only now, blooming like forget-me-nots somewhere deep in your chest.

«Don't ever ask again… My love», — it was never said out loud, but you managed to hear Sunday's velvety voice shamelessly invading your consciousness while his lips greedily but slowly devour yours. And you don't mind at all.

Your thoughts, one way or another, from now on will be filled only with him.

*Sunday is a representative of the Halovian species, one of the features of which is reading the thoughts of others, however, the ability to rewrite memories and, in principle, somehow influence the consciousness of another living being is not It is one of the abilities of this species. This ability of Sunday in this work is based on a completely plausible theory that he, like his sister, are Emanators of the Aeon of Harmony, because if we recall our first meeting with Family in the World of Dreams, then we can see how Robin is doing something similar, helping us with the "side effects" of the first immersion in a dream.

#headcanons #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai:star rail #honkai:star rail x reader #hsr drabbles #sunday #sunday x reader #sunday x you #sunday yandere #yandere #yandere sunday #sunday hsr #hsr x you

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mrsmikaelsxn · 10 months

Text

Tears Of The Sky

masterlist

pairing: niklaus mikaelson x female reader

warnings: fluff and kissing, also a pinch of jealous nik

summary: a rainy day with klaus - requested by @viavolterra-wp

a/n: via i'm gonna get to the angst request for klaus but i suck at writing it and i'm trying to come up with something depressing to write about lmao, i hope this fills the void in your soul <3

song: valse sentimentale, op. 51, no. 6 - pyotr ilyich tchaikovsky

You groan as you hear your alarm go off. You contemplate on whether or not you should throw it out the window.

"Shut off the bloody alarm," Klaus says from his spot next to you on the bed.

You reach over and press the stop button before looking outside. A smile makes its way to your face when you see the rain pouring down. You turn and kiss Klaus on the forehead, "Nik, get up, it's raining!"

"So?" He pulls the blankets closer to him, effectively ripping them off your body. After dealing with that for so long, you don't even bother trying to steal them back.

"Well, we can't let a good rainy day go to waste, can we?"

"Of course we can, love."

You roll your eyes and huff as you fall back on the bed, "Well, if you don't get up, I guess I'll have to find someone else to spend the day with. Maybe that brunette Salva-"

In an instant Klaus is up and on top of you on the bed, "I think my company would be better than his anyday," he narrows his eyes at you.

"I don't know about that," you push further, "he was good company that one night a few weeks-"

You are cut off as Klaus starts tickling your sides, "What was that, love?"

You squirm under him as you try to break away, "Nik! I c-can't breathe! Stop! Please!" Your laughs make him smile, showing his beautiful dimples that you love so much.

"Hm, since you asked so nicely," he stops and falls next to you on the mattress. His head is resting on his arm and he looks at you with adoration in his eyes. "You're so beautiful, sweetheart," he whispers.

Your face heats up at the compliment. "I also think you are very pretty, Mr. Scary Original Hybrid."

He grins, "You think I'm scary?"

"Oh, not at all, you are a soft puppy," you take a hand and squeeze his cheeks.

He playfully scoffs and grabs your wrist, "I am not a puppy."

"Sure you aren't. Anyway, I was thinking we could bake some cookies."

"Great idea, love."

You two get out of bed and go to the bathroom. You both brush your teeth, hair, and after having a small water fight, you wash your faces.

You head to the kitchen with Klaus behind you. You grab a bowl and place it on the counter, "Nik, can you grab the butter, flour, eggs, sugar, and chocolate chips."

He nods and gets them while you grab a whisk, pan, and preheat the oven.

"Thank you." You two now add the ingredients into the measuring cups so everything is prepared. "Okay, do you want to do the honor of pouring the first ingredient," you ask him.

"'Course I do," he grabs the flour and holds it over the bowl.

"Pour it slow-"

It was too late. He flipped the cup upside down and although most four stayed in the bowl, there was a good amount now floating in your faces. Klaus and you swat your hands and cought a bit at you breathe in the flower.

"Oops. Now I know for next time," he shrugs.

"Who says you are going to pour it next time?"

"Me-"

"Let's add the softened butter and eggs now," you put them into the bowl and handed Klaus the whisk. "Stir gently, please."

He nods and as he stirs you slowly pour in the sugar and then the chocolate chips.

"Perfect! We can start rolling them and placing them on the pans."

You two roll them into balls and space them out on the baking pans before putting them in the oven. After washing your hands, you and Klaus go into the living room as he picks a movie, "The Parent Trap? Nik, you know me too well."

"What can I say," he grabs a blanket and tosses it onto the couch. You sit down and cuddle with him on the couch as you wait for the cookies to finish.

The timer on the oven goes off and you stand up, place the oven mitts on, and take the two pans out, putting them on the stove. Nik appears next to you and he goes to grab one but you slap his hand away. "No! They are too hot, Nik. You'll burn yourself."

"Pfft, I'm an Original, love. A cookie isn't going to burn me," he goes back to grab one. You sigh and watch in amusement as he places one in this mouth, jumps around while it burns him, rushes to the garbage to spit it out, and then goes to the sink to spray cold water in his mouth.

"What happened to, 'i'M aN oRiGiNaL, lOvE. a CoOkIe IsN't GoInG tO bUrN mE.'"

He crosses his arms and walks out of the kitchen back to the couch. You laugh and follow him to continue the movie while the cookies cool down.

Now you were laying on a couch in Klaus' art room as he painted you. "Nikkkk, this is taking forever," you groan.

"Don't move, love. I'm almost done."

You think for a moment, "Isn't the butterfly effect crazy?"

He lets out a deep sigh, "Not this again, love. Last time you made my brain hurt."

"It's just like, interesting to think about. If I take one step in another direction, that changes my whole life. That brought me to thinking about other dimensions."

"Other dimensions?"

"Yeah. I heard somewhere that there could be other dimensions where there is every other choice you could possibly have made. That's a lot of dimensions."

"I'm confused," Klaus glances at you and continues to paint.

"Here's an easy example, if there was a fork in the road and I chose one choice option, in another dimension I would have chosen the other."

"Ohh, that makes sense."

"Yeah, so then I was like, wondering if there are several versions on ourselves living on earth in the same timeline."

Klaus drops his head, "Sweetheart, I don't know how much more my brain can handle."

"Okay, I'll save that one for another day. It's hard to explain anyway."

"I'll hold you to that, love. I just finished anyway, come and see," he says excitedly. Although he has hundreds of drawings and paintings of you, he gets just as excited to show you them each time.

You head over to where he was sitting in front of his canvas, "Nik! It's stunning!"

"Not as stunning as you," he winks at you.

"I love it, Nik."

"And I love you," he pulls you to him and places his lips on yours. You pull back after a bit and leave him in a daze.

It's now afternoon time and Klaus said he was going to take you out to dinner. He told you to dress up but you were stuck on picking a dress. There was only one person you could call for help on this matter.

You go and grab your phone, scrolling through the contacts, before calling the number. After about two rings, the call is picked up.

"Bex!"

"Hello, angel," you hear the voice of your best friend come through the phone.

"Bekah, I miss you so much."

"I miss you, too. Is Nik being tolerable? If not I can come and rescue you and we could run away together."

"Yes he is, but I'll take up that offer any day."

"Great! I'll start planning."

"Before you do that, I need your help. Nik is taking me to dinner and I can't pick a dress. I have three top choices but I need you to pick from them, please," you say while grab a perfume you are going to put on.

"Sure! Send me seperate pictures of each one and I'll text you which one I think you should wear."

"Thank you! You're a lifesaver, I love you so much."

"Love you, too. Call me again soon!"

"Of course, bye Bex."

You hand up the phone and send pictures of the dresses. A minute later you get a response from her and you smile. You throw on the dress she picked and you go into the bathroom to do your hair and makeup.

You finish getting ready and put your heels on. You go downstairs and see Klaus on the couch waiting for you. He hears you and turns, he has you clench his jaw to keep it from dropping.

"Are you ready to go, Nik?" You stroll towards him and grab his hand.

He blushes and stutters out a yes. He grabs his car keys and you grab a large umbrella. Klaus grabs you by the waist and speeds you both into the car so you were barely wet.

On the drive there, Klaus let you choose the music - which barely ever happens. You, of course, took that to your advantage.

You get into the diner and the waiter takes you to a booth. You order drinks and Klaus glare as the waiter as he takes your food order.

He walks away nervously and you put your head on your hand as your elbow rests on the table.

"Is it really necessary to glare at the poor boy?"

"Yes it was. He was staring at you."

"Usually when you are talking to a person, you look at them."

"He was stuttering."

"Probably because you were scaring him."

"But-"

"You get jealous too often."

"I can't help it, you are too gorgeous."

"I promise you that you don't have to get jealous, Nik. I love you," you smile at him.

"I love you, too," he grumbles.

The waiter comes back with your food, "H-here you go, enjoy."

You smile at the boy and whisper, "Sorry about him."

He nods and smiles back before walking away.

After Nik pays for the dinner, you too go back to the car. Once you arrive back home, Klaus carries you inside and speeds you to your shared room.

He tosses you onto the bed and goes on top of you. He kisses you so passionately that it speaks so many words.

You tug on his hair in the back and he puts a hand on your waist and one resting on the bed next to your head.

He bites your bottom lip and slides his tongue against it. You open your mouth and move your tongues against one another. You both pull back breathlessly after a few minutes.

"I've been waiting for that all night," Klaus says.

"Of course you have. Do you want to get ready for bed?"

"Sure," he kisses your cheek and rolls off of you.

Klaus speeds to the bathroom across the hall to get ready and you use the one in this room. You take off the makeup and jewelry. You do your nighttime routine and throw on one of Klaus' shirts and a new pair of underwear.

You hop into bed and pull the cover over you. Klaus joins you and you hand him the remote, "You can pick what we watch this time."

"Hmm, decisions, decisions."

He finally picks a movie and you are surprised to see it was Twilight. "You enjoyed the movie?" You recall back to when you introduced him to the saga and he seemed like he hated it the whole time.

"Not exactly, but it's fun seeing the way they made vampires and werewolves."

"Touché."

You lay your head on Klaus' chest while he plays with your hair. Your eyes flutter shut about an hour and a half into the movie. He kisses your head and whispers, "Goodnight, my love," before falling asleep.

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bunnypansy · 5 months

Text

The Perfect Fit

Rated R for EXPLICIT CONTENT!

You're new to the Devildom and you'd love some positive attention from Lucifer- you suppose now is your best chance to get it, but you might be in over your head.

Featuring: Lucifer, and you! Beware! This film contains: cis!male!reader, lightly dubious consent, erotic asphyxiation, worship kink (reader acknowledges Lucifer as god in a few parts), Lucifer has a poorly hidden praise kink, facefucking, semi-public sex, light degradation (Lucifer calls reader a slut/whore a couple times), use of "good boy", light orgasm denial, mirror sex, begging, hair pulling, no condoms, Lucifer is overall a meanie, erhm it gets kinda messy even though I didn't mean to whoops

Lucifer doesn't use the lord's name anymore- but God, you were testing his patience.

This trip was fully necessary, you'd been dragged to the Devildom in an instant, left with no time to pack and you couldn't wear your uniform all the time. Lucifer usually would've employed another one of his brothers for this task, as a shopping trip with a human was a bit beneath him, but Asmodeus was busy, and the rest were generally unruly.

He wasn't sure why you had to show him everything you tried on, but he was sure that it was making him feel things he'd rather not. The Devildom was hot, yes, but fucking hell; could you wear anything else?

The tight hug of tiny shorts around your thighs, the expanse of your skin visible beneath an all-too-small crop top, the dangerous swish of a skirt, the urge to lift it higher- no. No. About 20 minutes ago, he asked you to "dress more respectably", and now he was starting to regret it.

The end begins when you peek out of the dressing room, to make a small request of Lucifer; a zipper is giving you trouble. Lucifer has half a mind to tell you to "put it back then", but for some idiotic reason, he follows you into the small stall. The door shuts behind him with a sense of finality.

"It's here, on the back." You turn your back to him, a funny thing to do when in such close proximity to a demon. He follows your hands and finds a small zipper at the waistline, tucked slightly beneath your fingers, an invisible one- the kind that always gets stuck. "Can you just pull it closed for me?"

Lucifer assumes this will be an easy task, giving you a little nod in response. He pinched the zipper between his thumb and forefinger, then pulled the zipper up- or tried to, anyway. The zipper stays firmly in place.

"You've really gotten yourself stuck, hm?" You watch Lucifer through the mirror in front of you, his lips pressing into a firm line.

"Mm, yeah I guess…" It would've been nice to impress him with your more refined clothing choices, you'd like his approval, but this zipper seemed to be ruining things for you.

Lucifer's grip shifted and your breath hitched, a hand moving to your hip and squeezing tightly. "Hold still."

You suppress a shudder as his breath ghosts across your skin, only responding to his command with a quick nod. Lucifer's fingers bear down, squishing the flesh of your hips until they find the points of bone beneath.

The tightness of the shorts is felt far before you recognize the sound of the zipper fastening shut. The black fabric squeezes around your waist and thighs with unforgiving firmness, the fat around your hips puffing out around the hems. You instinctually yearn to rip them off, but Lucifer's hands don't leave your hips.

Here, standing in front of the mirror in the dressing room, Lucifer finally got a good look at your outfit. A white chiffon blouse, the fabric beautiful against your skin, the black bow draping over your chest matching perfectly with the shorts you'd tucked the blouse into.

"This is better." A finger slips under the waistband of your shorts, pinned against your skin. A disapproving hum rises in his throat. "A bit tight."

Under statement of the century, the shorts might as well be strangling you. Your throat is dry now, you lick your lips and try to force out words. "Yeah, I think they're a little too small."

Lucifer disagrees. The fabric pulls tight around your body, the high waist riding up high enough that he gets a peek at your ass and gives him a near-perfect imprint of your bulge. Hands slowly stroke your sides, up and down, from your ribcage to your hips; you and Lucifer are holding eye contact through the mirror.

Slowly, painfully, you watch while Lucifer's hand brushes its way down the front of your body. His hand lands on the soft swell in your pants, and you draw in a sharp breath. Surely, he won't do it- right? Lucifer, the refined, prideful man, would never grope a lowly human such as yourself.

"How does it feel?" Your thoughts come to an abrupt halt when Lucifer’s voice rumbles in your ear.

"How does-" You begin to turn, to look back to Lucifer and beg the question that burns you, but he squeezes your growing hard-on and you fall still with a strained gasp.

He reiterates the question, trying to burrow through the thickening fog of your brain.

“How do the shorts feel?” Lucifer’s long fingers wiggle beneath the hemline of your shorts and briefs, smoothing over the skin of your tummy. It’s hard to think while he’s drawing circles on your skin, the soft leather of his gloves fueling the heat between your legs.

“They, uh,” you swallow hard, “they feel good.” A strangled whimper spills from your throat when one of Lucifer’s hands encircles the base of your cock, his touch so faint it’s tantalizing.

“How good?” His is velvet-smooth in your ear, breath hot against your skin.

This was a terrible idea, the dressing rooms aren’t noise absorbent and Lucifer is a man of high status, it’s best if you both put this idea out of your minds. Logically, you both know better than to go on.

“Lucifer, we shouldn’t be doing this-” Your hand slaps itself over your mouth on instinct, muffling the dangerously loud whine that ripped from your throat; the demon had squeezed your shaft so tightly that it ached.

You can’t help but squirm when Lucifer lets out a disappointed sigh next to your ear, his hands sliding from your shorts. “That’s not what I asked.”

Your head spins as Lucifer shoves you up against the dressing room mirror, his hand on the back of your head and forcing your cheek into the cold glass. The popping of stitches is so loud that it feels like a gun has gone off in your ears, you flinch all the same when Lucifer unceremoniously tears off your shorts.

“Now, let’s try again,” Lucifer discarded his glove in a heartbeat, and the sensitive nerves of your precum-slicked dick are exposed to the demon’s calloused skin. “Tell me how good it feels.”

Now, it’s not a question, Lucifer has given you a demand, spurred on by the quick and rough way he strokes your cock. Your body craves his touch, arching and bucking into Lucifer’s hand almost wildly with a chorus of pitiful whimpers. “Good- oh, f- good! It feels so-”

Lucifer abruptly stuffs his leather glove into your mouth with a scoff of disgust- you realize it tastes of the precum you leaked all over his hand.

“You’re too fucking noisy,” His stroking hand slowed to a near halt, squeezing so tightly around the tip of your cock that you wail into the glove between your teeth, pre dripping down your shaft and onto the dingey carpet in thick globs. “Are you trying to get caught? Do you know what will happen to you if Lord Diavolo hears of this?”

“A demon of such high ranking, like myself, having intimate relations with the human exchange? A much weaker,” the rough skin of Lucifer’s thumb brushes over your slit and you groan at the sting, tears gathering on your lash line, “more vulnerable creature.”

“A scandal like this would take a terrible toll on my standing.” He takes care to trace over the veins of your length, seemingly lost in thought and paying little mind towards your pathetic cries. “We’d have to get rid of you, of course.”

Blood stills in your veins; how painfully vague of him. Your attempts to argue are quickly dismissed, Lucifer only stuffs the glove further into your mouth with a condescending coo.

“Hush, hush, no talking.” He pats your thigh comfortingly, like trying to quiet an anxious pet. “Perhaps my brothers could find some use for you before you’re discarded…”

Lucifer hums in thought, trailing his hand over your balls, then back towards your ass. Precum-slicked fingers draw tight circles over your rim, pausing to just barely press inside you and watch you squirm back against him. “Or maybe, we’d get to keep you.”

The suggestion has you beyond delighted, grinding back onto Lucifer’s hand with a moan and a trembling grin as he finally forces two fingers into your tight ass. “You’d look good in a cage, don’t you think?”

You’re in no position to disagree, bracing yourself against the mirror as you rock into the thrusts of Lucifer’s hand urgently. You need a little more, just a little more and you can cum. Your moans grow higher and higher in pitch- you’re not being subtle in the slightest. Your cock is twitching and throbbing vigorously, the rough tips of Lucifer’s fingers scraping against your insides only worsening the heat in your tummy.

Your moans are beginning to sound more like sobs, turning utterly incoherent as you finally, finally- there’s a slick pop as Lucifer pulls his fingers out, leaving you dazed and needy. At last, you let the glove fall from between your teeth, turning back to plead with Lucifer but scarcely getting a whimper out before he grabs you by the cheeks.

“You’re such a mess,” he laughs, actually laughs into your hot, tear-stained face. and drags you to the ground, leaving scuffs on your knees. “What makes you think you’ve earned the right to cum? What have you done for me?”

Lucifer’s hand tangles in the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your face into the tent in his pants. “If you do well, I’ll consider letting you cum, how’s that?”

You can feel the warmth of his erection on your cheek, your own cock spasming in response. Like a bitch in heat, you can’t help but nuzzle against his bulge, eager to get it out of his pants and inside you. Your clumsy hands make quick work of the buttons and zipper on his slacks, freeing his cock in a matter of seconds- you don’t even need instructions before you take the head of his dick in your mouth, sucking away the pre that had gathered at Lucifer’s tip. The taste is tangy, salty, and beckons you to take Lucifer’s cock further into your mouth.

The promise of an orgasm makes you work hard; bobbing along Lucifer’s length, tracing your tongue over the veins on his length, squelching obscenely as you suck away at him. A hand tangles in your hair, pushing the stray tufts away from your face and tilting your head to stare up at Lucifer. You’re helpless to do anything but watch as he slides his hand to the back of your head, slowly pushing you to sleeve the rest of his cock into your throat. For a moment, you struggle against Lucifer’s grip, throat constricting around his dick as you attempt not to choke.

“Don’t struggle,” Lucifer warns, pressing your nose against the short hairs at his pelvis more firmly when you don’t listen. “Don’t.”

Finally, you go lax against him, tongue lolling out to lick at Lucifer’s sac while you go on attempting to slurp at his dick. Hesitantly, as if waiting for you to fight him once more, Lucifer pumps his hips against your face with a satisfied sigh. “Good boy, good boy; you’re doing perfect.”

You can feel the ridges and veins of his cock sliding over your tongue and scraping the inside of your throat. It aches but you don't move, you're too drunk on his praise to even consider it.

He starts with a slow in-and-out pump, reassurance that you're not going to choke on his dick, before his grip shifts yet again. The hand once positioned in your hair slides down to your neck, Lucifer's wide palm covering the column of your throat with ease, his fingers digging into the soft flesh on either side–he's getting a firm grip. You panic on the first sharp thrust into your mouth, hands smacking at Lucifer's thighs frantically while you gag and retch around his length, but he hardly seems to notice.

The demon is utterly lost in his own pleasure, his head tilted back in hitched sighs as he fucks your throat with the same mindless ferocity as a toy. Wet gargles fill the small dressing room as you desperately attempt to get a single breath, fingers curled in the fabric of Lucifer's pants. Air, you need air, you can't get a proper breath in with Lucifer's dick filling your throat. The corners of your vision are starting to go dark, your head fuzzy, your lungs are beginning to burn.

Only when you're sure that Lucifer is going to let you suffocate does he pull you off his cock, thick webs of saliva stuck to his tip and your lips. You gasp and cough wetly, the lightheadedness fading with each new inhale.

"Up on your feet." The command comes and you nearly sob, nothing sounds more impossible to you than standing.

With deer legs, you stumble into something resembling a standing position, still huffing and whimpering weakly.

"Hands against the mirror, now." Lucifer motions with a hand for you to turn around and stand against the mirror and like an obedient bitch, you do so.

Mostly, you're leaning on the mirror, chest pressed up against the glass and hips tilted back for Lucifer, you're too exhausted to do much else.

"No, not like that." Lucifer sighs in annoyance, grasping you by the hips and pulling you back until you're bent over at the waist, only your palms flat against the mirror.

The moments of silence between his words left you trembling with anticipation, sweaty palms leaving sticky prints on the mirror. A fingertip traces a trail of fire down your spine, before smoothing flat against the small of your back, steadying you as the tip of Lucifer's cock squishes up against your rim. You expect him to push forward, to finally fuck you like you need- but he waits, the head of his dick pressed to your entrance, with no sign of moving. Your impatience grows, cock leaking precum over your thighs, slickening your skin as you rub them together.

"Lucifer…?" With a small rock back, you whine of his name, trying to coax him into fucking you.

He only pulls his hips back, drawing a pitiful noise from your throat. "Beg. Beg for me to fuck you."

Your words catch in your throat, shame keeping you quiet. When Lucifer's hand strikes your thigh, you have to bite your lip to muffle a yelp.

"I could leave you here; a dripping, needy, slut." His words are a cruel hiss, forcing tears to well in your eyes. "Just beg, tell me how badly you want me inside of you, or you get nothing."

Still, your jaw is firmly closed, far too ashamed to say anything- until Lucifer begins to pull away.

"No! No, no, please," the threat becomes real and you panic, bracing one arm against the mirror and using your free hand to spread yourself open for him. "Please Lucifer, I want you so bad, I need you…"

Every word is a whisper, still afraid of getting caught, but too worked up to possibly go without Lucifer's cock now. A self-satisfied smile spreads across Lucifer's face as he retakes his place behind you.

"So you can beg, what an obedient whore." The tip of Lucifer's dick taps against your hole, before he slowly slides past your rim with a low groan. "Fuck… are you this tight for everyone, or am I special?"

"Jus- just you…" You barely manage to murmur back, but Lucifer is beyond pleased with your answer, finally driving cock to the hilt with a low groan- you are a perfect fit for his cock.

Now he sets his pace, something steady and forceful that fucks the thoughts from your head on every inward stroke, the walls of the dressing room one hard thrust away from trembling beneath your weight. With every pull back, the head of Lucifer's dick drags over your prostate, your legs twitching and quivering in sensitivity- it's taking everything in you to stay quiet, but that's not what Lucifer wants.

"Talk- come on, talk for me, pretty boy, tell me how good you feel." With that gasping command your mouth falls open and a flood of praise rolls out.

"You feel so good, thank you, fuck, thank you- harder, please-" Any thought of silence is lost in the haze of lust, pleading for Lucifer to go harder, to go faster, for more, more, more.

Lucifer throws his head back with an unrestrained groan, slamming his hips against yours with unprecedented speed and force, tearing moans from your chest with ease.

"Oh God-" Lucifer grips your hair tightly to cut off your cry, his tone turning furious.

"Don't you-" he loses his words in a slew of curses for a moment. "-don't you ever call for anyone else, fuck, I am your god, understand?"

The moment he asks, you nod- but that's not enough. The hold on your hair tightens, and Lucifer pulls your head back, forcing you to face your reflection in the glass; covered in your own spit and tears, the thin white fabric of your blouse turned sheer from sweat.

"Say it." Lucifer's voice drops to a dangerous hiss, his free hand moving to stroke the length of your dick in time with his thrusts.

You let out a wail the moment he touches you, a fresh stream of tears welling up and rolling down your cheeks.

"You! You're m-my God!" It's slurred and sobbed, but at this moment, you mean your words completely.

Abruptly, Lucifer pulls you back against his chest by the scalp, then locks his arm around your neck, constricting your airways.

"Who?" Lucifer presses on, prompting another answer from you.

Even though your voice is strained through his tight grip, you call out for him, an obedient worshipper. "Lucifer!"

He lets out a shuddering sigh of pleasure. "Again."

"Lucifer!" You answer, and his pace falters for a moment.

"Again, louder." He commands once more, and you follow.

"Lucifer!" His hips pump into you even faster, and your cock is beginning to throb erratically, you're so close.

"Louder!" Lucifer's voice pounds through your skull, you think this must be madness.

"Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer!" At last, your orgasm hits you all at once with an ear-splitting scream, every muscle in your body drawing taut within Lucifer's hold.

You arch against him, legs kicking at his shins as Lucifer holds you up by nothing but his arm around your throat, your cum splattering against the fitting room mirror. With all your tightening and convulsing, Lucifer's orgasm isn't far behind, his thrusts have turned irregular and unsteady- but you're struggling for breath, clawing his prim black dress shirt in desperation.

At last, you feel hot cum flood your insides in tandem with Lucifer's shuddering groan, and a heartbeat later, he lets you go. You crumple beneath your weight, letting his cock slip free from your ass as you fall forward against the mirror. You can't help but see yourself- rather, the mess you've become. Heaving and panting, your face glistening with saliva, tears, and snot, strands of your cum caught in your hair and smeared over your skin from where you hit the mirror.

"Well, then." Lucifer is already tucking his dick back into his pants, retrieving his discarded gloves from the floor. "Get up, we've been here long enough."

Tongue heavy in your mouth, you can barely even form the words to protest. "I… I can't…"

A firm hand grasps your upper arm and yanks you up to your feet. Feeling Lucifer's cum ooze from your ass, you can't help but shiver- a few drops hit your calves and soak into your boxers, still looped around your ankles.

Lucifer huffs out a disappointed mutter when you sag against him, then guides you to wrap your arms around his neck. Luckily, Lucifer helps you redress yourself, pulling your boxers back up, then stuffing you back into your uniform dress pants- however, you're left in the sweat-stained blouse.

Lips press against your ear, a whispered threat. "You're going to walk by yourself. If you stumble or don't keep up, I will whip you bloody- understand?"

There's nothing you can do but nod. You've given yourself to Lucifer completely, mind, body, and soul- and a worshipper does not deny the requests of his god.

That will be all for today's showing folks, as always, thank you for viewing!

This was made based on a prompt I submitted to @akunya in uhhh... checks watch oh god February. I didn't mean to take this long. I started writing half of this several months ago, then I opened it this morning and suddenly blasted through the rest in like 5 hours. Possessed by the spirit of horny I guess...

217 notes · View notes

c-e-d-dreamer · 6 months

Text

Wreck My Plans, That's My Man

A/N: listen. Look at me. Does this make sense? Is it technically logical? No. It's horny vibes only here, and I need you to roll with it. Anyways! This was all inspired by this beautiful piece of art, and then I was enabled and encouraged and basically wrote this whole thing in like 48 hours... Enjoy? NSFW warning!

Read on AO3

“Hey, Nes, have you seen—”

Cassian's voice trails off, and Nesta hears the distinct sound of keys jangling. She rolls her eyes fondly as she goes back to her book, burrowing deeper against the stack of pillows at her back. She doesn't look up, even as she listens to his boots against the hardwood coming closer, even as that familiar scent of smoke and pine washes over her, even as a sweet kiss is pressed to her hair.

Only when she's finished the page does she slide her bookmark into place and tilt her head back, meeting a pair of bright hazel eyes and a wide, soft smile meant only for her. Cassian is dressed in his usual all black show attire, ripped jeans clinging to his thighs and the low cut of his tank showing off the thick muscles of his arms, the wide breadth of his shoulders and chest, the lines of black ink winding across his golden skin.

“I left your pass on the hook by the door,” Cassian explains, scraping his hair back and out of his face before securing it with a hair-tie. “Are you thinking you'll drive? I can make sure they open the lot for you.”

“No, I'll just get an Uber, and then drive home with you after.”

“Perfect.”

Cassian leans down, slotting their lips together, and Nesta practically melts against him, sighing into the kiss. Too soon, he's pulling away, stealing one last peck to her lips before murmuring his goodbyes and heading for the door. Nesta slumps back against the pillows, closing her eyes and giving herself just one more moment. With a soft sigh, she tosses the blanket off her legs and heaves herself up, padding down the hall to their bedroom to shower and start getting ready.

Nesta’s phone dings where it’s sitting on her vanity, letting her know that her Uber driver is approaching. She takes a moment to straighten out her skirt, to tug up the strap of her lacy, red top. She grabs her phone and her purse, rushing toward the front door. Thankfully, her pass really is right where Cassian left it, and it’s easy enough to toss it on, easy enough to tug on her shoes and her leather jacket, zipping it up to fight off the late October chill.

There’s more traffic than Nesta anticipates, and by the time her Uber driver is dropping her off in front of the venue, they’ve already opened the doors, the queue shuffling forward and people moving about the sidewalk with excitement. It still blows Nesta’s mind seeing the way the queue stretches all the way down the block and around the corner, seeing all these people in tour shirts and with wide grins, all to see the Bat Boys.

“Excuse me,” Nesta says to one of the venue workers directing people. “Which way is the stage door?”

The worker turns his attention to her fully, not even hiding the way he sweeps his eyes over her. When his gaze raises to her eyes again, his face is unimpressed, and he lets out a near derisive snort. “Nice try. Keep dreaming those Wattpad dreams.”

Nesta doesn’t bother biting back her scowl or her eyeroll, practically glaring daggers at the worker as he turns away.

“Guess I’ll find it myself,” she mutters to herself, weaving her way toward the side of the venue building.

“Oh my gosh! Imagine if Cassian points right at you tonight!”

The words give Nesta pause, and she turns to find a couple of girls in the queue. They have their hair and makeup done up, one clad jeans and the other in a short, leather skirt. And both of them have handmade, matching tees declaring ‘Cassian’s Future Wife.’

It had started as a bit. Cassian had informed Nesta that he would be dedicating a song to her on their last tour, a sweet more acoustic number he had penned himself, but when he introduced it to the crowd, he’d instead declared it was for his future wife. Nesta had been pink the entire rest of the night, cheeks and ears burning, but the reaction only seemed to spur Cassian on until he was making the same announcement every night, every show where she was in the audience.

“Imagine if he pulls me out of the crowd and invites me back to his place after the show,” the girl in the skirt offers to her friend.

“Once he sees you, he totally would.”

“I bet he’s amazing in bed too. He’d rock my world, and then I’d be like no need to look any further. You found your future wife.”

The girls laugh and practically squeal in agreement, but Nesta has to swallow down a scoff. She doesn’t know why the conversation scrapes across her skin, why it grates against her nerves. She knows that Cassian and his brothers have a large female following for their band. She knows that she’s the one who asked to keep their relationship more private. She knows that it’s their bed he comes home to each night, that she’s the one he wakes with soft kisses and quiet good mornings, that she gets the ‘I love you’s and the smiles just for her.

But there’s no denying the anger that starts to lick through Nesta’s veins, fire crackling and flaring beneath her skin. There’s no denying the annoyance that twists through her stomach, tightening like vines in her chest. It takes everything within her to bite her tongue around the words she wants to sneer, instead shouldering past the girls and through the crowds to continue her trek toward the side of the building.

When she reaches the back of the building, she spots Cassian's truck in the lot. The pair of stagehands smoking and the big, burly security guard standing near an otherwise nondescript metal door let her know she's found what she's looking for. She unzips her jacket enough that she can pull free her pass, flashing it, but rather than letting her in, the security guard holds out his arm to stop her. His eyes narrow suspiciously, sweeping over her and squinting at her pass.

It has Nesta's anger burning into full-blown rage, into a living, writhing thing that digs its claws into her chest and begs to be released. Her boyfriend is in there. Her boyfriend. And she won't have these people looking at her like she's just some groupie. Won't have these girls thinking they're going home with Cassian.

She's about to give in to the fire, to give in to the cool words poised and ready on the tip of her tongue, when the stage door swings open. Nesta just barely steps back in time before Balthazar goes barreling into her, and she watches as the photographer all but runs to where his SUV is parked, rooting around in his back seat. He jogs back toward the door, pausing when he realizes who's standing there.

“Hey, Nesta,” Balthazar greets with an easy grin, holding up the small case now in his hands. “Need a new SD card already.”

“You know her?” the security guard asks.

Balthazar lets out a quiet laugh. “Seriously?”

He doesn't say anything more, merely shakes his head and vanishes back inside, but at least it's enough to have the security guard look sheepish. At least, he holds the door open and finally allows Nesta to step inside. The steady thrum of bass and drums pulses beneath Nesta's feet, a raspy, feminine voice floating on the air to her, and she knows that the supporting act has already gone on and started the show.

With determined steps, Nesta weaves her way around stagehands and equipment, making her way toward the back of the stage. She slips behind the black curtain splitting the stage in two and hiding the Bat Boys' setup until it's their time, finding Cassian right where she expects him: sitting at his drum kit, casually twirling a drumstick between his fingers while he nods along to the band playing in front of the curtain. Nesta doesn't know if he hears or if he's just always able to sense where she is in a room, but his eyes snap to hers in an instant, that slow, soft grin tugging its way across his face.

“I was beginning to think you were going to stand me up,” Cassian teases lightly when she's close enough.

“I just had to deal with a bunch of shit,” Nesta grumbles, dropping her purse to the ground.

Because she can, she tosses her leg over Cassian's own, straddling his hips. The seat is small but she makes it work, pressing close to him and looping her arms across his shoulders. Cassian's own hands find her hips with ease, holding her steady.

“What kind of shit?”

“Just stupid people.”

Cassian hums, dropping his head so his forehead rests against her collarbones, his thumbs tracing soothing circles against her hip bones. “At least you're here now.”

Nesta hums her own agreement, trying to let the feel of him pressed against her soothe her still sparking nerves. She reaches a hand up, tugging free the hair-tie from Cassian's hair and slipping it onto her wrist for safe keeping. She runs her fingers through the dark, curly strands, scraping her nails against his scalp in the way she knows he loves.

“I had to deal with getting past your little fan club,” Nesta continues, pressing a bit harder with her nails until she feels Cassian sigh against her.

“What can I say? I'm an expert at stealing hearts,” Cassian offers, his voice muffled against her skin, as his hands slide down to the backs of her thighs, teasing just beneath the hem of her skirt.

“There's even a group of girls in the audience with shirts that say 'Cassian's future wife.'”

Cassian pulls his head back, his eyes practically glinting even in the low light of this part of the stage. “Are there?”

Nesta yanks hard on his hair, tugging his head back enough that his entire throat is on display for her. It gives her the perfect view for the way he swallows hard, the way his eyelashes flutter around his darkening hazel eyes.

“But they don't stand a chance, do they?” Nesta snaps, her tone cold and demanding.

Cassian's already shaking his head despite her grip, his expression dazed, before she even finishes speaking. “Not a chance in hell, sweetheart. No one compares to you.”

“Because you're all mine, aren't you?”

“All yours,” Cassian groans, his hips bucking up against her own, pressing his growing hardness against her ass. “Fuck, you're so hot, baby.”

“And you're going to prove it.” It's a statement, not a question, nor a request, and Nesta grinds and circles her hips down against him, chasing the friction, the heat already building between her thighs.

Cassian's hands tighten, sliding further up until he's grasping her ass fully beneath her skirt. “I'll do whatever you want me to.”

“That's what I like to hear,” Nesta tells him, dragging her nail down his temple and cheek and relishing in the full body shudder that takes over Cassian's body. “You're going to touch me, make me come, and then I'm going to fuck you until I'm the only thing you'll think about for the rest of the night, until no other woman will be able to get close to you without smelling sex and my perfume all over you.”

“We only have forty minutes until the show.”

“Better hurry then.”

Rather than let Cassian say anything more, Nesta crashes her mouth against his, nipping and biting at his lips and pressing her tongue into his mouth. Cassian groans as he kisses her back just as hungrily, using his grip on her to move and rock their hips together. One of his hands reaches between them, sliding two fingers over her still clothed center, and Nesta has to pull back to gasp, her hips stuttering at the pressure.

“Fuck, I love how you're always so wet for me,” Cassian whispers against her lips, tracing a teasing circle across her clit. “Absolutely soaked, sweetheart.”

“Less talking, more following directions,” Nesta chastises, canting her hips more firmly against his hand. “We're on a time limit, remember?”

Cassian hums his agreement, slotting their lips back together. At the same moment, he tugs her panties to the side, wasting no time and sinking two fingers inside her. Nesta practically whimpers into his mouth at the stretch, a sound Cassian greedily swallows. He holds his fingers still, and Nesta clenches down around them, hoping to encourage him to move.

“Cassian,” Nesta whines high in the back of her throat, trying to shift her hips against him.

But Cassian uses his free hand to hold her firmly in place, to hold her still against him. He slowly pulls his fingers out, dragging against her walls, before pressing them deep again, just as slow.

“You're just as much mine, you know,” Cassian breathes hotly, repeating the same motion. “You think I don't see every guy and girl staring at you every time we go out?”

“I don't even notice them,” Nesta promises, sliding her hands down to Cassian's shoulders and digging her nails into the skin there. “Besides, at least none of them think they're going to be my future spouse.”

“I bet they want to be.”

“I bet they want to see what I look like when I come too. Maybe, I should ask them to help me instead, since you'd clearly rather take your sweet time.”

Cassian growls, curling his fingers, and Nesta knows that she's won. He starts to work his fingers in earnest, pressing in deep and hard the way he knows she loves. When his thumb joins in, pressing at her clit in tandem, Nesta slumps forward against him. She drops her forehead to his shoulder and bites hard at her bottom lip to quiet the moans and whimpers threatening to spill from her throat. Already, her blood sings, pleasure firing from her every nerve ending, and it's all focused where Cassian's fingers sink into her over and over again.

“Is this what you want, Nes?” He whispers right against her ear. “Is this how I prove it to you?”

“Yes. Fuck, don't stop,” Nesta gasps, turning her head enough that she can dig her teeth into his pulse point, sucking the skin between her lips until she's sure she left a mark.

Cassian's fingers stutter for a moment, and Nesta feels more than she hears the groan trapped in his throat. But since the moment she met him, Cassian has never backed down from a challenge, never allowed himself to be out done. And Nesta has never been more thankful. He squeezes in a third finger, curling all three and pressing against her clit, Nesta's whole body lighting up at the sensation.

He plays her body the way nobody else can, the way that only comes from learning each other's bodies over the years. Every slide, every curl, every press of his fingers sends Nesta cresting higher and higher. Heat pools low in her gut, her whole body tightening and pulling taut as her cunt flutters around Cassian's fingers.

“Come for me, baby. I can feel you're close. Be my good girl and come all over my fingers.”

The praise is all Nesta needs to go crashing head first through her orgasm. She bites at Cassian's shoulder to keep quiet, clenching hard and practically shaking against him. Cassian continues to work her through it, his fingers unrelenting and dragging her orgasm out.

Only when Nesta reaches down and squeezes his wrist, the overstimulation too much, does Cassian slip his fingers free. He brings his hand up to his face, sticking his tongue out and lapping at the pads of his fingers with a soft groan. Nesta is quick to grab his wrist, guiding his hand closer and sucking his fingers into her own mouth. She keeps her eyes on his, not breaking eye contact as she slowly glides and swirls her tongue over each digit.

“Fuck,” Cassian mutters, his hips bucking up as if of their own accord.

The movement reminds Nesta of what's still to come, of the hard length practically waiting for her. It has her blood heating again already, has her feeling empty and clenching around nothing. She pulls her mouth away with a quiet pop, reaching her hands eagerly toward his belt.

“I need you,” Nesta whines, all but yanking the button open and tugging Cassian's jeans and boxers down enough that she can free his cock.

She fists it tightly in her grip, squeezing at the base before sliding her hand up and down, spreading the precum already weeping from the tip. It takes some awkward maneuvering on the too small seat, but Nesta is able to raise herself up enough that she can line him up with her entrance, that she can sink down. No matter how many times they do this, Nesta doesn't think she'll ever get used to the feel of him, the stretch. There's no biting back her moan once he's finally seated to the hilt.

“Mother, save me,” Cassian groans, clearly just as affected. “You take me so well, baby. Nothing feels like you.”

“That's right,” Nesta tells him, clenching around him. “No other cunt will ever squeeze you like this.”

“Good.” Cassian buries a hand in her hair and kisses her hard, tugging her bottom lip between his teeth. “Because no other cock can fill you like mine can.”

Despite Nesta's words earlier, her promise to fuck him until she's all he thinks about, it's Cassian that takes control. His hands grip her hips, guiding her up and down his cock, while he uses his planted feet to thrust up into her hard and fast. Nesta loves it. She loves the way he presses deep with every slap of their hips together. She loves the way she knows she'll have bruises for days across her hip bones.

She buries her hands in Cassian's hair and slams their mouths back together, breathing every moan and whimper past his lips and swallowing his every answering groan. Every snap of his hips, every drag of his cock has Nesta's toes curling in her shoes. Her cunt flutters and clenches around him, desperate to pull him in deeper, to keep him here right where he belongs, keeping her full and stretched.

She knows Cassian is close from the way his hips start to stutter, so she drops a hand between their bodies, finding her clit with ease and working it in time with their movements. It's almost too much. The sensation and feel of their bodies coming together. The sight of Cassian with a flush clinging to his cheeks, with his hazel eyes nearly swallowed whole by his blown out pupils, with his hair a mess from her fingers. He's beautiful and he's hers, and she can feel herself teetering closer and closer to that ledge.

“Come on, Nes,” Cassian pants, pressing their forehead together. “Ladies first. Want to feel you squeezing me. Want to be drenched with you. Come all over my cock.”

Like a marionette on his strings, Nesta's body gives in to his request. She comes hard enough that spots dance in her vision, and she just barely has the foresight to press her free hand to her mouth, biting into her palm to quiet her shout.

Cassian's hips are unrelenting as he chases his own high, as is his still rambling mouth. “That's my good girl. That's it, baby. Fuck, you're so fucking beautiful.”

A few more thrusts, and Cassian buries his face against Nesta's shoulder and groans her name. He practically shakes as he finds his own release, hips still moving shallowly as he spills inside her.

Nesta slumps forward against his chest with a blissful sigh, her body wrung out in the best way. Cassian's arms curl tight around her, holding her close to him, and he turns his head enough that he can press a kiss into her hair.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” Cassian murmurs against her hair. “You should get jealous over crazy fangirls more often.”

Nesta rolls her eyes at the comment, nipping at his skin in retaliation. She sits up enough that she can reach over and grab her discarded purse on the floor, rooting around until she finds the tube of lipstick buried there. She makes quick work swiping the bright red color across her lips, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Cassian's chest, right above the neckline of his tank, right above his heart.

She tilts her head and hums appreciatively, admiring her work, but then Cassian's hands are sliding along her jaw, cradling her face and pulling her into a deep, languid kiss. When they break apart, his mouth is smeared with red. Nesta drags her thumb across his lips to try and help, but it only seems to make it worse, only seems to further emphasize the swollen and kiss-bitten state of them.

“Sorry,” Nesta offers with a wince. “We seem to have made a mess.”

“Good,” Cassian tells her, not even bothering to bite back his smirk.

“You are insufferable.”

“Says the woman still sitting on my cock.”

Nesta scoffs, but she shifts off his lap and to her feet, keeping her thighs pressed tightly together until they can get to the bathroom and clean up properly. It's a slow and awkward walk, especially with Cassian all but plastered along her back, unable to let her go just yet.

When they step out of the bathroom, his brothers are already there and waiting. Between the disheveled state of Cassian's hair and clothes, the lipstick stains and nail marks on his skin, and his wide, shit eating grin, there's no mistaking what happened. Nesta awkwardly clears her throat, tucking a strand of hair that came loose back behind her ear.

“I don't even want to know,” Rhysand mutters. “But we're on, so let's go.”

Cassian leans down, pressing one last kiss to Nesta's cheek. “Stay backstage tonight.”

Nesta frowns at the strange request. She and Feyre always claim one of the balcony boxes for their shows. “Why?”

“Just stay backstage,” is all Cassian offers as he backs away toward the stage lights, toward the screaming fans beyond.

A wink in her direction and he spins around, jogging the rest of the way onto the stage. Nesta can do nothing but continue to frown in confusion, nothing but watch as Cassian and his brothers play the opening song of their set. Only when there's a quiet, surprised laugh from her left does Nesta finally pull her attention away, finding Feyre now standing beside her. At Nesta's questioning look, Feyre holds out her phone, showing off the tweet she has pulled up. It's a photo, clearly taken from the audience, zoomed in and cropped so it shows Cassian behind his drum kit.

To whoever fucked this man's brains out before the concert, I want to say thank you for this look, but also I wish that was ME!!!

The replies to the tweet aren't much better, and already Nesta can feel heat creeping up her neck and threatening to spill across her cheeks.

Hate to see someone else living MY dream

Someone get the FBI on the phone to analyze and find the owner of that lipstick mark! Whose lips are those?

Wordlessly, Nesta hands Feyre's phone back to her, keeping her focus on the stage, on the Bat Boys as they continue their set. It's not long before Nesta knows what song is coming next, her eyes automatically snapping to Cassian's in anticipation, but for once, he pulls his microphone free from its stand and stands up, stepping out from behind his drum kit.

“Velaris, how are we doing tonight?” Cassian greets, earning an echo of screams in response. “Now, you may not know this, but this venue holds a very special place in my heart. You see, a few years back we played here, opening for a little band you might know called The Band of Exiles.”

More screams from the audience at that mention. It has Nesta shaking her head fondly. She still remembers that night, remembers Feyre dragging her and Elain along to see her old school friend's Lucien's band. One night and now all three of them are with musicians. Nesta is sure if their mother was still alive, she'd hate it.

“Great show,” Rhysand comments idly into his own microphone.

“Great tour,” Cassian agrees with a nod. “But you see, what really made that night special was that there was someone in the audience. Someone I wrote this next song about. Someone who for once isn't in the audience but backstage.”

Cassian gestures with his arm to where Nesta's standing, and she can do nothing but stare in shock. She feels like a deer in headlights, her eyes wide and jaw slackened, as Cassian gestures for her with his head. A hard shove in the back from Feyre has Nesta stumbling forward out onto the stage and bright lights.

“What are you doing?” Nesta seethes quietly, walking over to Cassian awkwardly.

“Just remember, Nes,” Cassian tells her, holding a hand over his microphone so it won't pick up their voices. “If you kill me, you'd miss me too much.”

“Cassian.”

“Nesta, I love you so much, it clearly makes me stupid,” Cassian begins, speaking into his microphone again. “It makes me want to shout it from the rooftops, but I suppose this is the next best thing. Since the day that I met you, I knew that you were it for me, that you were going to be my future wife, but what do you say we make it official?” There's no stopping Nesta's gasp as Cassian drops to one knee. “Nesta Archeron, will you marry me?”

In that moment, everything else fades away, the stage, the band, the lights, the crowd. All there is Cassian. Cassian with his bright hazel eyes and his warm, easy laugh. Cassian with his teasing remarks and a fire to twine and match with her own. Cassian with his quiet comfort and the strength and safety in his embrace. Cassian who looked at her nicked and bruised heart and told her it was perfect. Cassian who carved out a place in his chest for her just as surely as she did for him.

“Yes,” Nesta somehow pushes out around the emotions clogging her throat, around the tears prickling in her eyes.

Cassian's answering grin is radiant. He slides the ring onto Nesta's finger, jumping to his feet and pulling her into a kiss. The crowd erupting into loud cheers around them pulls Nesta firmly back to the present. She tries to slip away backstage again, but Cassian catches her hand in his, tugging her to his drum kit and onto his lap, her back pressed firmly to his chest.

“This next song,” Cassian announces into his microphone, picking up his drumsticks again. “Is dedicated to my wife!”

Thankfully, Nesta is able to scurry away after the song. She's pulled into a bone crushing hug by Feyre as soon as she steps backstage, a squealing Elain on FaceTime from whatever city she and Lucien are in today. Various members of the crew offer their own congratulations, Balthazar promising he got some great photos of the whole thing, and Nesta thanks them all quietly. Her heart still pounds between her ribs, the anxiety of being on the stage still swirling in her gut, but as she looks at the ring now glinting on her finger, there’s no fighting the smile that tugs up her lips. No denying the happiness bubbling within her at the future now before her. No denying the warmth that blooms in her chest, tying as securely around her heart as a golden thread.

Nesta lets out a squeal of surprise when strong arms wrapped around her waist suddenly, spinning her around and walking her back until her back is pressed against the wall. Cassian’s eyes are especially bright, sweat still clinging to his face and his skin from their set, further smearing the lipstick stains she left on him.

“Hello, wife,” Cassian greets with a wide grin, caging her in and leaning down and brushing his nose against hers.

“You know just because you proposed, that doesn't actually mean we're married yet.”

“Semantics.”

Nesta rolls her eyes fondly, even as she slips her own arms around Cassian’s waist, keeping him pressed close. “And how long have you been planning this?”

“Like a month? Maybe two?” Cassian offers, shrugging easily.

“And yet you didn't want to stop me when I was being mean earlier?”

“I love it when you're mean,” Cassian tells her, his hands reaching up between them to cradle her jaw. He tilts her face up to him, kissing her sweetly. “I can’t wait for you to be mean to me for the rest of our lives.”

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acosf #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #my fic

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bite-sized-devil · 1 year

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I was listening to Avril Lavigne’s Girlfriend and my head was thinking human au demon bros stealing mc from they’re boyfriend. Like the bros just ruining all they’re dates and seducing mc

Omg this is so funny! I love where your head is at anon. Ok so I'm so sorry this took me a while, I originally wrote heaps more for each but then decided to shorten them and release the longer versions later! You've tickled me with this idea 😂☺️

WARNING +18 MDNI. Not all are NSFW but still you know minors fuck off. 🫵🖕✌️

Date 1: You're waiting for your uber, it's late. It finally shows but not in the car you thought you ordered. Shocker it's Mammon. He's stealing you away to a date night you hadn't planned. Guess what, your boyfriend isn't invited.

Date 2: What's better then a cute date with your bf in the park! Barely anyone else in sight besides a big beefy orange haired dude jogging far off in the distance. Aww your boyfriend wants you to pose for a picture, ok time to look cute. Oh no, that jogger is no longer so distant. In fact he's so close he's picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder and then sprinting away. All your boyfriend is left with is the pretty flower he picked for you and the ringing in his ears from you screaming Beel's name.

Date 3: It's getting hot and heavy with your boyfriend after a perfect date. You're making out and stripping each other's clothing, teeth clashing, arms flailing. Your boyfriend gets a work call he has to take, leaving you pouting. Left in your room waiting for him. Unbeknownst to you Belphie has entered your room, he wraps his arms around you from behind and kisses your neck. You purr at his touch, thrilled your boyfriends work call didn't take to long. He doesn't let you turn around, which you find odd but it's kind of hot so you go along with it. You find your self pinned to the bed, panties ripped off, and moaning as he slides he cock back and forwards through your soaked folds. Try explaining this to your boyfriend when he walks in and finds Belphie balls deep inside your pussy fucking you from behind, moaning a name that isn't his.

Date 4: A date at the movies with your beau, cuddling up next to one another and eating popcorn and drinking soft drink. How could that go wrong? It's strange that you and your boyfriend are the only ones here. Even weird is the fact that when someone does eventually come they sit directly beside you. Odd? Why would he select a ticketed seat right next to someone when the entire theatre is free. It finally clicks when you hear his all to familiar voice. He's gesturing wildly at the screen, saying how the it's exactly like the first movie only the landscape has changed. You'd be more annoyed if you didn't actually agree with him. He's even stealing your popcorn and drinking your drink. It is a bit cute the way he blushes and flusters when your hands touch on the arm rest between you. He jerks away and covers his face with both hands. To your boyfriends absolute shock he sees you pry the purple haired annoyance's hands away from his face and reassure him it's fine if you two hold hands.

Date 5: A romantic dinner at a fancy restaurant, your boyfriend really went all out. He's even wearing a suit and tie, clearly he wants to get lucky to tonight. You've been sitting an chatting for a while and looking at the menu. Your partner orders you both some wine, before you dine (I'd apologise for that but I shan't). It arrives, a different waiter from before, this one tall and auspiciously blonde. Oops it's to late, he's already spilt wine all down your boyfriends white shirt. No, he's not apologising. He's sitting down next to you and telling your date to run home and get changed, he shouldn't be seen looking like a slob with such a beautiful date.

Date 6: You meet your boyfriend at a club for dancing. What's hotter then grinding up on each other while slightly intoxicated, and heavy makeout sessions on the slightly less lighted side of the room. Excusing yourself to get another drink you come back to where you left him. He's no longer their, that's odd? You scan the dancefloor, your mouth falling open when you find him. Well isn't that the hottest thing you've ever seen. Asmo the sneaky fuck has pulled your boyfriend into a trance. They are both pressed tightly against each other, Asmo's tongue is jammed so far down your boyfriend's throat you're worried it's stuck there. You move closer to them, your body moving of its own accord. Not wanting to be a bystander any longer you join them, sandwiched between both of them. This night is turning out way different to what you had planned.

Date 7: You just straight up ghost your boyfriend. You didn't mean too! You swear! But, Lucifer called you... And well you've never been very good at saying no to him. Actually, he's not very good with hearing a no from you. You didn't want to displease him, but then the time go away from you. Before you know it it was way to late to call your boyfriend. And to be honest you were a little bit preoccupied with your little phone call with the eldest brother. Somehow you ended up in your bed naked and touching yourself but only when he told you too, stopping if he asked for it too. So no actually you probably won't be calling your boyfriend after this. You are 100% sure Lucifer wouldn't allow it.

Thank you so much for sending me this little thought anon! You inspired me ☺️ hope you like how it turned out, I sure did 💕🌻

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you liked it ☺️ Likes, comments, and reblogs are so appreciated! 🌻 Please don't repost, that shit won't fly here. I'll annoy the absolute shit out of you. If you would like to join the tag list please fill in my dumb little form.

Tagging: @delphi-dreamin @sassykattery @alexxavicry @your-next-daydream @rosanism @marvelous-maniac @i-hardly-know @kyungjoon-do @ria-demon29 @itsmeninerz @allielozoya @spookyscaryskeletonn @zarakem @soapbooger @attic-club-sandwich @yuujispinkhair @tea-time-writes

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