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vikkirosko · 4 months

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The last story was amazing, hope you can get this one in before the holdidays, and have a nice vacation. And just a great next few months on top of that! But I was wondering ( sorry this may be long ) if you could do a headcanon of alastor, lucifer, Angel Dust, lucifer, fizz + Ozzie, and Rosie? ( sorry if that's to many characters there all just great characters ) x a reader who has CIP ( the inablility ) to feel pain? Thank you! Also how have you been?

I'm all good. I haven't had much free time lately, so I'm a little behind schedule on writing requests, but I still don't lose hope that I'll be able to finish everything before the end of the year. And how are you doing?

Headcanons CIP

🕷 Angel Dust x Reader 💖

You and Angel have known each other for a long time. You knew that he often got into various scuffles and always reminded him to be careful. One of the times you knew for sure that he was going to get into trouble, you went with him. You were right and helped him cope and not get hurt, but there was something that caused him concern. You were hit by several bullets, but you didn't seem to pay any attention to it at all

Only when you noticed the blood on your clothes did you say with irritation that you had ruined your favorite sweater. Angel jumped up to you, worried about your wounds, but you didn't seem to feel the pain, which you soon informed him about. That's why Angel took you back to the hotel, where he treated your wounds. You told him that you had a CIP. You haven't felt pain since you were born, even when you were human, and even in Hell, the absence of pain has remained with you

Angel was surprised that for so long he didn't know that you don't feel pain at all. You had to pay attention to little things so as not to harm yourself, for example, be careful about hot dishes, because you might not notice how hot the soup could be or how hot the cup of coffee was. Angel listened attentively to you, surprised that he didn't notice it

Angel has become more attentive towards you. He didn't constantly take care of you, but sometimes he reminded you that the food or drink was hot, that you held the knife too close to your fingers, or that you were injured. Angel understood that even if you didn't feel pain, it didn't mean that the wounds didn't hurt you, which is why he tried to take care of you at least a little

📻 Alastor x Reader🎙

Alastor found out that you don't feel pain when he noticed that you returned to the hotel with an injured leg. You weren't even limping. You just went to your room like everything was completely normal. He didn't know any other reason for this. He went to your room with a first-aid kit and you did not hide from him either your own wound or the fact that you really did not feel pain

Alastor stayed in your room while you treated the wound on your leg. You told him that even when you were human, you didn't feel pain. You assumed that at least in Hell this would change, but it turned out not to be so. Because of this, you didn't notice the wounds you could get until you noticed the blood on your clothes

The origin of the scars on your skin was now clear. He understood that you probably got these scars in Hell. On your palms, hands, and obviously not only there. You really weren't very worried about your own health, and the lack of pain only made it harder for you to take care of yourself

Alastor understood that in Hell there was much less harm from this for you. Dying in Hell was much more difficult for a sinner than when you were alive, so Alastor didn't worry too much about you. He knew you'd be fine, but he still left a first-aid kit in your room in case you needed it

💀Rosie x Reader 🌹

You were a frequent guest at Rosie's and helped her with some problems at her store. You often stayed at her house for weeks at a time, but Rosie was only too happy to spend time with you. Sometimes you came in with wounds after fights, but Rosie was sure they weren't that serious, so you didn't pay attention to it. However, when you came in seriously injured but behaved as if everything was fine, she became worried

Rosie insistently asked you to sit down and brought a first aid kit. She was in no hurry to ask questions or jump to conclusions, primarily focusing on your wounds. You didn't make a sound when she was treating your wounds, which gave Rosie certain thoughts

You honestly told her that you didn't feel pain at all. Even before your death, you had CIP and you learned to live with it, but in Hell you became more relaxed and took much less care of your own health, which led to your injury. Rosie listened to you carefully, then gently stroked your hair and asked you to be careful

Rosie didn't want you to try. She knew that you tried to be more attentive to yourself and tried to avoid new wounds. You didn't want to upset Rosie and make her worry, which is why you tried not to put yourself in danger, not even realizing that Rosie was ready to show those who would harm you why she was overlord

🍎 Lucifer Morningstar x Reader 🐍

Lucifer knew perfectly well that you didn't feel pain. You've known each other for a long time and he often saw you after fights. You didn't pay attention to the wounds, just talked irritably about stained or torn clothes. You both knew that the lack of feeling pain had its own characteristics, so you made sure that the wounds were treated, and Lucifer made sure that no one dared to hurt you

Lucifer was much stronger than you, and when you were together, no one dared even try to look at you askance, but sometimes you got involved in fights, especially when it was the end of the year. You didn't want to hide, even though you knew you could have died. Every time Lucifer found out that you were fighting again, he watched, taking his time to intervene. It was only when he saw that you were seriously injured that he intervened

Lucifer sometimes offered to pick up personal guards for you, but you kept telling him that it wasn't necessary. Just because you didn't feel pain didn't mean you were reckless. You tried not to put yourself in excessive danger, realizing that even in Hell you could die

You didn't know how long you would be in Hell and whether it was possible to leave Hell at all, but while you were there you weren't going to let yourself die again, especially because you didn't notice any wound and Lucifer didn't mind helping you with it

🎪 Fizzarolli x Reader x Asmodeus 💕

In your relationship, Asmodeus has always tried to take care of Fizzarolli and you. He had sincere feelings for both of you, and you responded in kind, but if Fizzarolli really tried to be careful, then you got into trouble more often. They both saw the wounds healing on you, but you always said it was just a small accident and they had nothing to worry about. This went on until you returned with bloodstains on your clothes and serious wounds that you didn't pay attention to

They immediately rushed to you, both very worried. You convinced them that you were fine, but this time it was obviously not the case. Asmodeus treated your wounds, after which he seriously asked who did it. To his question, you smiled gently and said that they were much worse off than you, so you shouldn't have worried about it. However, there was something that did not escape their eyes. It's like you didn't feel the touch of your wounds

When Fizzarolli asked you if you were in pain, you were confused and said that you didn't feel any pain at all. You've had CIP and you've never felt pain in your entire life. There used to be problems because of this, but now you have learned to avoid serious problems, at least you tried

Asmodeus and Fizzarolli weren't going to leave you alone until your wounds were completely healed. They both surrounded you with care, worrying about you, to which you laughed softly and hugged them. Even in Hell, you were able to find those who gave you the warmth that warmed your heart and soul

#Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin Hotel x Reader #Hazbin Hotel headcanons #Helluva Boss #Helluva Boss x Reader #Helluva Boss headcanons #Alastor #Alastor x Reader #Angel Dust #Angel Dust x Reader #Rosie #Rosie x Reader #Lucifer Morningstar #Lucifer Morningstar x Reader #Fizzarolli #Fizzarolli x Reader #Asmodeus #Asmodeus x Reader

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comatosebunny09 · 6 months

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insecurities | astarion a.

summary: “why don’t you like me?” he asks, his voice small amid the symphony of the forest dwellers. you choke on your spittle. how unlike your undead friend to sound so unsure of himself.

The night is quiet.

Most of your companions have retired to their tents. Tending to their weapons, reading, sleeping.

You’re left by the fire, snapping twigs to further kindle it. You smile quietly. The atmospheric pop and fizz bring you comfort as a summery breeze slides in.

You turn away in search of more wood when you hear a weighted sigh, followed by the thunk of the log behind you.

Seems someone’s decided to impede on your party of one.

You spin around to see your favorite vampire sitting opposite you on the log, his features accentuated by the fire. Astarion watches you with a pout on his lips and his brows knit together. You snort, wholly prepared for him to complain about something.

“What’s wrong, sunshine?” you query, squatting and poking around the campfire. “Our lodgings not to your liking? You break a nail? A rat crawl up into your ass?” Your eyes crinkle with mirth.

Astarion leans back on his hands, one leg crossed over the other. He stares at you with those petulant eyes, studying you for a beat. It’s unlike him to be so serious. Silence stretches between you for a moment longer before he asks, “Why don’t you like me?”

You nearly choke on your spittle. His brazenness floors you. Literally. You plop down on the ground, dusting off your hands, your expression bemused. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, come now.” He crosses his arms. Looks off to the side, face screwing up into a scowl. “You haven’t slept with me. You shrug off all my advances. Hells, it feels like you won’t even give me the time of day.”

Another snort. Your tone drips with sarcasm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I had to sleep with someone to show I cared.”

Astarion scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “Bullshit. Have you seen me? I’m irresistible. The very definition of sex on legs, so I’ve been told. People would kill for a chance at me. And I would’ve bedded you a thousand times over, had you stopped playing hard to get.”

You sigh. Laugh a little disbelievingly, slowly standing. “Astarion—”

“I’m not your type, am I? Do you even have a type? It’s Halsin, isn’t it? That oaf of a druid.”

You caution a few steps around the fire towards him, your hands stretched out placatingly. You’re exasperated. “Astarion, look—”

“I don’t blame you. I would’ve bedded him, too.”

“Astarion!”

You’re in front of him now. Bent over, gathering his icy cheeks into your palms. He looks at you with confusion marring his features. You have his attention, nonetheless.

Your eyes gloss over with wetness. A forlorn smile rounds your lips. Your chest swells with emotion, and you tuck some errant curls behind Astarion’s ear.

“I thought we knew each other better than that.” You swallow before wetting your lips. You look down at the ground, inhaling deeply. Kneel before him, taking up his hands with all the gentleness of the world, your eyes shining with the threat of tears.

“You are more than your body, Astarion. More than some fling. More than a romp in the dirt. I wish you could see that. Sex is nice. Gods, it can be such an incredible thing. But I don’t need it to know I mean something to you. And I don’t need it to show you I adore you.”

Astarion blinks. For a moment, only the two of you exist in this world of chirping crickets and crackling fire. Tenderness flashes across his face before the vampire chuckles softly, patting your hands, squeezing them. His lashes flutter. He’s breathtaking.

“You adore me, do you?” Astarion purrs, his cockiness returning tenfold. “I am rather amazing, aren’t I?” He leans back again to have a look at his nails, radiating smugness.

You snort, standing and wiping your hands on your breeches. “You just had to muck it up, didn’t you?” You can’t help the quirk of your lips as you turn back to tend to the fire.

“Darling. Who would I be if I didn’t?”

“And to think, I was just about to kiss you.”

The indignant sound Astarion releases behind you makes your ribs blossom with pride.

Ah, well. Maybe next time.

masterlist

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion fluff #astarion drabble #astarion bg3 #astarion fanfic #my attempt at writing something less detailed #and more dialogue-driven #astarion romance #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #astarion deserves all the love #tw: sex mention #tw: language

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luxurychristmaspudding · 1 month

Text

Mutual | Lucien Flores x f!Reader

summary: you and lucien have both been invited to this dinner with explicit instructions: play nice. but it's kind of hard when you can't stand each other. even harder when the meaning begins to blur with his hands on you.

pairing: lucien flores x f!reader

ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. smoking, drinking. idk, hate fucking essentially. misuse of a champagne bottle, edging?, sexual tension, f!masturbation, unprotected p in v (you know what to do, and it's not this), oral (f!receiving). reader wears a dress and is implied to be shorter than lucien, but is otherwise undescribed.

wc: 4.8k

an: i succumbed.

The only thing you and Lucien Flores have in common is the need for a cigarette after dinner.

Nothing else.

You stand on opposite sides of the patio outside the open glass doors which lead back into Anna and Alex’s house, and you know that Anna, at the very least, will be watching you. Making sure you play nice.

Something you’d vowed to do when she’d called to invite you to this dinner party. Lucien will be there, she’d said, it’d be great for me, for us, if you two just tried to get along.

So far, you’ve succeeded. You’d listened politely to his stories at the table, hadn't even rolled your eyes when he laughed and joked and flirted with your fellow guests. You’d drunk your wine and stayed quiet through it all, offering your own contributions to the equal delight of the friends who'd gathered. You’d been surprised when Lucien had smiled along with them, even going so far as to chuckle at your story about the dog next door.

And now, outside, the rule still stands. You eye each other as you smoke, finding yourself amazed again by the way he doesn’t speak. Not a snide thing to say, no quip to make, just him watching you. Eyes flitting from your legs, to your hips, to your chest, to your face. And you’d tell him to quit it if you weren’t doing the same thing. If you weren’t enjoying the way his silk shirt hangs off his broad shoulders, the way his curls flop over his forehead, the way his chains catch the light, the way his stupid, pretty eyes glitter across from you. You hate yourself for it, want to crack some nasty sentiment across the stone, but you don’t.

You’re on your best behaviour, after all.

Something which Lucien has clearly forgotten as he pushes himself off from the wall he’s leaned against, stepping closer, closer to you by the bush with the red flowers. You brace yourself for whatever it is he’s about to say, for whatever smoke he’s about to blow in your face, gearing up for the taunt you’ll throw back.

He stops before you, barely an arms length away. You tense, waiting.

He holds out the bottle of champagne he’d swiped from the table on his way out. You blink at him.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m playing nice.’

You stare at him, sceptical. This is not Lucien. This is not something you’re used to.

But maybe he’s trying, too.

You take the bottle from him, and he lets it go easily. You watch him as you bring it to your lips, tipping it up until the bright fizz of the bubbles meets your tongue. He watches your mouth, pink slip of his tongue flicking out over his bottom lip as he drops the butt of his finished cigarette to the floor, not looking where it lands. You swallow, take another gulp for good measure, and hand it back to him. His fingers graze yours as you do.

You freeze at the jolt of electricity his touch brings, hand remaining outstretched as he brings the bottle back to his side. You watch, aloof, as he plucks your cigarette from your fingers and flicks it into the darkness before slotting your hands together, mind swirling as he pulls you closer.

‘Come on. Want to show you something.’

Maybe it’s the wine, but you can’t find the words to protest as he tugs you away to a deeper part of the garden.

Lucien turns you to face him at the furthest wall he can find, and you finally find your words as your back hits the concrete.

‘What did you want to show me?’

You glance around behind him at the flowers that burst from the ground, bright even in the darkening half light. The water feature Alex had installed last year trickles musically somewhere to your left, though you can't see it.

His answering grin is dirty, something fluttering in your tummy as you grind your teeth, nostrils flaring. You do not have the patience for this man, or the butterflies churning in your stomach.

‘Lucien.’

His hands find your waist and the curve of your ass in a flurry of movement, his grip strong, the bottle cold through the material of your dress. The air leaves your lungs. He hums as he draws himself close to your lips.

‘How beautiful you look tonight.’

You snort at him, disbelieving. He can’t be fucking serious.

‘Lucien, what the fuck -’

He cuts you off quickly, dipping to fit his mouth to yours in a searing kiss, hand moving from your ass to your jaw as he licks into your mouth. Your blood roars in your ears as your own hands scrabble to find purchase on his chest, slipping against the silk. You mean to push him away, but somehow you pull him closer, your body doing the opposite of what it’s told as you open your mouth further to him, groaning softly. He tastes like champagne and cigarettes, and you grip his neck to bring him further in, your other hand smoothing over his bunched shoulder, his strong bicep, down to his waist, fisting his shirt. He chuckles against your lips, and sharp anger surges in your gut. Shit. This is Lucien.

You use the hand at his middle to push him roughly away from you.

‘Get the fuck off me.’

He smirks, one hand still on your hip as he takes a swig from the bottle of champagne. You watch him, breathing heavily, stare as his lips close around the mouth of the bottle, and you're betrayed by what you’ve only pictured in your most secret moments. Your eyelids flutter, fingers twitch for him, cunt clenches around something that isn't there. He comes towards you again, and this time you close the gap, leaning forward to crash your mouth against his. You lick at the seam of his lips but he keeps them obstinately shut, and with irritation flashing through you, you drag your nails hard down his forearm in retaliation. He grips the nape of your neck, pulling your head back, and taking advantage of your open lips, spills the champagne off his tongue and onto yours. It's warm, still sparkling. Tastes like him. You swallow it down greedily, reminding yourself that you should be disgusted, certainly shouldn’t be pulling him in to kiss him again, shouldn’t moan so loud when he grinds his hips against yours as he rumbles how you drive him fucking insane against your neck. Shouldn’t be so wet, pinned up against this wall by a man you have long held such disdain for, shouldn’t grind back against him, shouldn’t be panting into his mouth like some kind of dog, shouldn't be forgetting where you are, who you’re with -

This time, you’re more forceful. Lucien stumbles back with hooded eyes and shining, swollen lips, his own breathing coming fast and deep. You stare back at him, still stunned, and without meaning to, your eyes drop down to his crotch, finding the fabric there tight with his arousal. He’s big, must be with the way his zipper is straining. Your mouth runs dry, your stomach swoops. Fuck.

You watch with as much disgust as you can manage as he palms himself roughly to relieve some of the ache, your own hands itching to do the same.

‘So pretty, baby,’ he teases, stepping forwards, head falling towards yours again. Why won’t he stay away? ‘So pretty, wanting me like this -’

‘Stop,’ you hiss. It’s unconvincing even to your ears, and he smirks like he knows. He knows. ‘I don’t - I don’t want you like this -’

He presses his forehead to yours, not touching you this time, instead letting his nose trace your cheekbone, your jaw, down to your neck.

‘You don’t want me like this?’ He purrs. You manage to shake your head. You can feel his smile as he laves a hungry, open-mouthed kiss to your pulse point, and you whimper, hot all over, so wet, so needy for him. He chuckles again. ‘No,’ he confirms. ‘Then maybe… like this.’

He sinks to his knees in front of you, curls mussed, lips parted, eyes blown. He stares up at you, reverent, taunting, as he skates his broad palms over the tops of your thighs, stroking the skin, murmuring how soft you are. Oh, and you are so fucking angry. So fucking angry as he grips and soothes your flesh, as he squeezes and kneads your ass, as you hold onto his strong shoulders and breathe his name. Even more pissed when he doesn’t have some kind of asshole comment to make, furious as he leans into you and presses kisses to where his hands have been, mouthing at your skin, leaving it wet with his spit, with champagne, so fucking mad as he sips from the bottle again and spills the liquid from his mouth onto your thighs, as he kneels back to watch it trickle over your knees, down your shins, to your feet, to drip onto the floor. You are on fire.

‘See? Beautiful.’ He murmurs. And oh, what you’d do. What you’d do to him. You’d pull at his hair and scratch at his chest and bite into his neck and you’d make him suffer, make him ache, make him feel the same heat you’re feeling. You just can’t seem to move.

Can’t seem to move as he brings his mouth closer to your cunt, splitting the folds of your wrap dress further, pushing his hands up to your hips, holding you still as he takes in your lace panties, the only thing covering you from him. He looks up to you again, burning with desire. Your cunt pulses painfully, and you hiss his name.

He smiles, cruelly.

‘Relax, sweetheart,’ he murmurs, ‘We’re playing nice, remember?’

Your retort dies in your throat as he presses his face to your clothed cunt and breathes in deeply. He moans loudly, and you whimper in response, hands flying to his hair at the feeling of his hot breath on you, tugging as he mouths at your pussy through the material. You feel his tongue, warm and strong, drag over the lace covering your clit and you groan, going slack against the wall. He nudges the swollen nub with his nose, his free hand coming between your legs to touch you.

‘So wet,’ he breathes, ‘That what I’m doing to you?’

You shake your head no even though he can’t see you, still playing with your pussy through your underwear. A plea bubbles up your throat, and you swallow it down. You will not beg Lucien Flores to touch you. You don’t even know how you got here in the first place.

But that’s forgotten as he moves again, kissing your clit through the fabric as he brings his other hand, still holding the bottle, between your legs. You hiss as he presses the lip of it to your hole, all protests forgotten as he grinds it against you, the pressure easing a small amount of the ache you feel.

You forget that it’s wrong as he uses it to push your panties to the side. Forget as he runs the cold glass through your wetness, almost do beg him to touch you, to lick you, to do something before he settles it against your slit, right where you think you might need it most.

‘Still don’t want me?’ he breathes against your skin.

A shallow breath escapes you.

‘Fuck you.’ You whisper, no conviction behind your words. He rests his forehead against your hip, and begins to press, begins to relieve some of that ache, that want -

‘Luce?’ Anna calls out from the direction of the house. You freeze, fist tightening around his curls, but Lucien is unphased, working the mouth of the bottle past the tight opening of your pussy. You gasp brokenly at the cool feel of it, fingers constricting even further. Lucien moans beneath you, moving to nose at the crease between your thigh and your cunt, pushing the neck of the bottle further in. You moan loudly, knees giving a little, and he clutches your hip tighter to keep you from falling.

‘Luce?’ Anna calls again, a little closer this time. You groan his name in response, torn between wanting more and wanting this to end before disaster.

The next Lucien? comes even closer, and you use your grip on his hair to pull his face away from you, tipping his head back so that he meets your eye.

‘Stop.’ You bite out. He grins and gives one more pump of the neck of the bottle. You whimper, head falling back to the concrete behind you as he removes it completely, rising to his feet with a groan. You watch, bleary eyed, leaking, chest heaving, as he dusts off his pants and adjusts himself, his eyes never leaving yours. He steps back and away, eyes raking over your body as he raises the bottle to his mouth, licking around the neck before taking a deep drink and disappearing back up the path.

He’s sick. You hate him.

You return to the house on shaky legs through the backdoor, hoping to make it to the bathroom, only to be intercepted by Alex. He’s scraping leftover food into the bin, and smiles as you enter before double taking at your appearance. You must look wrecked.

‘Are you alright?’ He asks, brow creasing with concern.

You hum, clearing your throat before answering.

‘Yeah, I’m fine.’

Alex raises an eyebrow at you.

‘Did he say something to you?’ he asks.

‘Did he - what?’

‘Lucien. Did he upset you?’

You blink at him. Right. Play nice.

‘I - no. He didn’t. He was actually quite pleasant.’

Alex stares at you.

‘Pleasant?’

‘Yeah.’

You hold his gaze for a little longer, feel a guilty little heat crawl its way through your belly.

You’re warm, so unbearably warm.

‘Is it alright if I go and lay down upstairs for a bit?’ You ask. ‘I feel kind of funny.’

Alex frowns, placing the plate he was holding on the counter.

‘Sure,’ he says, ��Do you need anything?’

You smile weakly, shaking your head.

‘No,’ you reassure him, ‘That’s okay, thank you. I just need a moment.’

The guest room on the top floor is cool, and the curtains are open. Warm, orange light floods in from the street outside, and you settle yourself on the middle of the bed, ready to get this over with. There’s no way you can go back downstairs with this need, this coil wound so tight in your belly. You swoop your palms over your body, nipples tightening beneath your dress, feeling the swirl, the drip of yourself between your legs. You grind the heel of your palm against your mound and moan softly, rucking your dress up to your hips so you can slip your fingers beneath the lace.

Fuck, you are so wet. So goddamn turned on by that stupid man that you may as well throw your underwear away. You sweep a finger over your clit, hips twitching at the contact, eyes falling shut as you dip the digit to your entrance to collect your arousal, working the nub in tight circles.

Your legs fall slack as you build yourself up, moans falling from your mouth in quick succession as you imagine what it would have been like to have him take you there, against the wall. What it would have been like to be fucked with the bottle, to have his tongue really on you, mimicking your movements now, to fall apart against his mouth, see him pull away with your slick covering his face. You rock your hips against your hand, quickening your movements, fingers dipping in and out of your slit between working your clit as the coil tightens and tightens, as the hot, heavy feeling grows and grows, as sweat beads at your temples and the valley between your breasts, as you try not to moan his name -

Like you’ve summoned him, Lucien clears his throat in the doorway.

You snap your legs shut, heart hammering in your chest, heat blooming through your cheeks.

‘You fucking - asshole -’ you seethe, and he laughs, eyes roving over your sweaty body. ‘Get out.’

‘Wanted to check you were alright.’

You gape at him.

‘Fucking bullshit, Lucien,’ you grit, snatching your hand out of your soaked cunt. You bundle it in the silk of your dress as you try to cover yourself, but his eyes follow, tracing the glint of your slick in the dim light.

‘Seems like you’re okay, though,’ he continues, slouching against the doorframe. ‘Just look like you could do with some help.’

You choke on a laugh, frozen, glaring at him from the bed. He bites his lip.

‘You’re fucking insane.’

‘Insane enough to fuck you.’

You inhale sharply, trying to ignore the flash of arousal that shoots through you, clenching your jaw.

‘You are not going to fuck me.’

Lucien steps away from the doorframe, moving into the room, letting the door fall shut behind him. Without looking, he reaches out with one hand and twists the lock with a click.

He comes towards you slowly, eyes hungry. Your heart is in your mouth as you watch him, adrenaline kicking in so hard even you’re not sure what you want. Aren’t sure whether you can admit what you want.

He reaches the end of the bed before dropping a knee onto the mattress, reaching out to grab an ankle, pulling your leg flat. You burn at the feel of him holding you, preventing you from moving, from hiding.

‘Then stop me.’

You don’t. You can’t as he crawls his way up your body, as he touches every inch of skin he can so gently, so delicately. Fresh slick pools out of you at the feeling, at the sight -

His stupid puppy dog eyes and floppy curls and broad shoulders beneath his silk shirt, silk shirt that looks like sin as it drapes over him, moves with him like water, and his chains, his chains, how they’d look swinging over you as he buries himself inside you, raw and hungry and -

You can’t stop the moan that slips from your lips as his hand cups your cunt, as his mouth finds your neck. Body quickly liquid, molten beneath his touch, legs falling open.

‘Please -’ it slips from your mouth before you can stop it, but it feels good, finally, to have him give you what you need.

‘Good girl,’ he says, ‘Playing so nice.’

He slips his hand beneath the lace of your panties, trailing two fingers through your arousal, mirroring your moan as he does. He circles your clit, dragging you back to where you were, drinking down your noises with his mouth close enough to swallow your breath, but not close enough to kiss. You stare up at him, eyes wide, mouth open, a line forming between your brows. You gasp, so pretty, and he hums, slowing his movements to an agonising pace before slipping them from your heat entirely. You whine at the loss, huffing against the mattress, pouting at him pathetically as he smiles down at you.

‘Let’s get these off.’

He kneels back to pull your underwear away from you, and you wriggle at the cool air that comes into contact with your cunt. You watch, breathless, as he bundles them up and slips them into his back pocket, irritated, but not irritated enough to demand them back. They were expensive.

He drinks in the sight of your bare pussy with ravenous eyes, resting his cheek against the flesh of your thigh. The scruff of his beard tickles and scratches, the feel of it so Lucien, but you can't find it within yourself to care. He brings a single finger up to trace through your folds, and you whine desperately, embarrassingly at the sensation.

‘Pretty enough to make a grown man cry, baby,’ he hums, nuzzling your thigh as he blinks up at you with burning eyes. ‘You ever made a man cry before?’

‘Yeah,’ you breathe, ‘Wanna see if I can make you cry, too?’

He grins, a dirty little thing, before closing his teeth over the soft skin at your hip. You moan again, and he leans in closer, licking a long, hot, wet stripe from your hole to your clit. You shudder, a broken sound escaping your mouth. God, what is wrong with you?

‘So sweet,’ he murmurs, ‘You always this wet when someone teases you?’

You arch your back against him, head turning in the sheets.

‘No,’ you groan, ‘Get this wet when I’m about to make myself come.’

He huffs a laugh against you before driving his tongue against your clit, sucking the bundle of nerves into his mouth. He is hot and wet against you, so strong and soft like velvet as he tastes you, holds your thighs apart with his strong hands, fingers pressing in so hard you’re sure they’ll bruise. You writhe beneath him, hands flying to his hair, grinding up into his face. He licks and licks, devouring you, moving his head from side to side, gripping your hips to keep you moving against him as he quickly builds you again back to your high, sliding two fingers inside easily, curling them up into the spot deep inside you.

You can’t tear your eyes away from him, the strong curves of his body, the sweat on his forehead, the way his eyelids flutter at your noises, those deep brown eyes watching you with something carnal, something possessive in them.

You whine and moan above him, keening as he reaches his other hand up to swipe a thumb over your nipple, pinching it as you plead for more, as you tighten around his fingers, as you flood his mouth, as the toil tightens again, as you teeter on the edge -

Lucien pulls his mouth from you with a wet sound, withdrawing his fingers at the same time.

You cry out.

‘No,’ you whimper, ‘No, Lucien, please -’

‘Atta girl,’ he says, ‘I knew you could ask nicely. Knew you’d beg.’

Your back flies off the mattress as you reach to claw at him, ready to rip him to shreds, but he’s too quick, kneeling back again to undo his belt, unzip his fly, pull himself out, and oh -

Oh. Fuck. He’s big. The heavy weight of him held in his fist as he pumps himself slowly over you turns your clawing into gentler hands, and he moves so you can wrap yourself around his cock. He feels like silk, so close to his shirt, rock-hard and twitching as you move your hand languidly up and down his length, squeezing, swiping your thumb over his tip as it drips precum. It's hard not to admire him like this, hard to remember why you hate him so much. The ache between your legs borders on unbearable.

He groans loudly, rocking his hips before wrapping his hand around yours, untangling your fingers to hold himself again, guiding his cock towards your entrance. He runs his length back and forth between your folds, covering himself in your slick, feeling your clit twitch beneath him until you beg again - ‘Please, Lucien, please - fuck me -’ before he’s sliding home in one long stroke.

The air is knocked from you at the feeling, at how full you are. He hinges to cage you with his arms, and you clutch at his shirt as he begins to move, slow, so slow. He licks his lips as he watches your face, your mouth in a little ‘o’, neck straining against the pillow, and you move a hand to the back of his neck, wanting to kiss him, wanting to taste him, taste him taste of you. You want to take his plush bottom lip between your teeth and hold it there, hold it there until you taste blood. Bu he picks up the pace, thrusting harder and faster, and you lose your grip, back arching as the delicious burn returns yet again.

‘Fuck -’ you gasp, ‘Holy fuck, Lucien, oh my god -’

‘I know, baby,’ he whispers, fucked out and broken as you already. ‘I know.’

He groans from somewhere deep in his throat, head thrown back to expose his neck, and you want to kiss him again, swallow him down, consume him whole.

You close your teeth over the chain that’s swinging in your face so he can't pull away, and he moans, forehead knocking against yours. You bite down harder, wanting it to break, wanting to shatter it, shatter him. As if he can feel it, he grinds deeper, harder inside of you. You feel yourself clench, feel it begin to spiral. You spit the jewellery out to whimper, scratch down the length of his back over his shirt. He feels so good. Feels so fucking good, and it’s infuriating.

‘I hate you,’ you whine breathlessly. He moans into your neck, breath hot and damp against your skin.

‘Yeah,’ he gasps, ‘Feeling’s mutual, baby.’

He marks the sentiment with a particularly dirty kiss to your throat, and with that, you see stars. You clench and break and stutter around him, splintering and bursting around his cock, crying out so loudly that he secures his large palm over your mouth.

‘Yeah, good girl,’ he pants, ‘Good fucking girl.’

You moan again, and he can feel your body twitch with the aftershocks, contracting and leaking around him. He takes both your legs in his hands and places them on his shoulders, folding you into yourself, fucking into you deeper, harder than before, hitting another angle even more intense than the last. You cry desperately into the pillow, wincing as you tighten again, impossibly fast, too intense, too far away to warn him. But he knows. He can feel it. Tries to hold himself back a little longer to fuck you through it, reaching down to thumb your clit, swiping through the mess you’ve made, he’s made, entranced by the sounds you’re making, the slick sound of him moving in and out of your cunt, the lightheaded feeling he’s got, the desperation, the urge, the need -

He breathes in the scent of your skin as his thrusts get sloppier, inhaling deeply through his nose. He wishes he could kiss you again. Wants to feel the press of your mouth against his, the breaths you take, your tongue against his.

But if he does, it’ll be over. The game will be up, because he won’t be able to hold back the real want he feels, where all this anger stems from. He’s so nasty, so mean because he wants you so bad. So bad, from the moment you met. From the moment you looked him up and down and listened to his arrogant introduction with a little sneer. He wants that attitude - wants to fuck it right out of you.

Your ankle smells sweet against his cheek, and he turns his head to kiss and bite the bone there, feeling you tense and pulse around him at the scrape of his teeth. You twist in the sheets, breathing ragged, eyes scrunched shut, fists clenching the cotton as you moan his name, as you try and bite back the gasps and cries of your second orgasm.

‘Again,’ he grits out, ‘Again.’

‘Lucien -' you cry, reaching for him, ‘Lucien, fuck -'

He comes at the first flutter as you clamp down around him. Buries himself right down to the hilt as he spills inside you, coming with a pained moan and a murmur of your name, eyes fluttering shut as he rocks in and out of your pulsing cunt, fucking his spend deep. He lets your legs fall from his shoulders as he catches his breath, steadying himself with a palm on the mattress as he watches you come down, staring at the rise and fall of your chest beneath your dress, nipples still straining against the fabric. He wants to take them in his mouth, wants to work you up to take you again, but he slips out instead, brushes his hair back from his forehead, watches his cum begin to dribble out of your puffy cunt. You catch him and reach down to run your fingers through the mess of you both, and Lucien looses a strangled groan as you feed it to yourself, tongue working over your digits. You remove them with a pop, sliding your legs closed and settling yourself on your elbows.

He kneels back on the bed, tucking himself back into his pants, trying to focus on something that’s not you for just a moment as you rearrange your dress and swing your legs off the bed. He feels like he should say something, something to cut across what you've just done. Something appropriately callous, but he can't bring himself to. Can't find it within him.

He hasn’t even finished buttoning his pants before you swan out of the room, dress as perfect as it was before, clinging to your curves, moving with your steps. You don’t look back at him as you leave, don’t utter a word.

That familiar flare of anger rises in his chest again. A muscle ticks in his cheek, and he sits down heavily on the bed, clasping his hands together over his knees. He takes a deep breath, exhales through his nose. He soothes himself with the thought of your cunt leaking his cum all over your seat downstairs, thinks about how it’ll ruin your pretty little dress. Tries not to think about how he won’t be tearing you out of it later, won’t be able to taste himself mixing with you like he wants to.

Tries not to think about the perfume you had applied to your ankles.

Tries not to think about how maybe, just maybe, you’ve thought about this, too.

#lucien flores #lucien flores x reader #lucien flores x you #lucien flores fanfiction #the uninvited #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #lucien flores smut

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nhlclover · 1 month

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she's not afraid | luke hughes

word count: 2.11k

summary: luke, captivated by your vibrant spirit, finds himself torn between his deep feelings for you and the fear of settling for casual flings

warnings: angst, swearing, brief nsfw content (nothing explicit), happy ending :)

notes: based on 'she's not afraid' by one direction. underrated song tbh

Luke was drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

Across the bar, your smile lit up the room, laughing at something that Jack was telling you. You were a beacon of light in any room you walked into, your laugh capable of melting even the coldest of hearts. You exuded an infectious enthusiasm for life that drew others to you effortlessly, Luke included.

Your paths crossed often as you found yourselves frequenting the same bars. The first time you met, Luke was drawn in by your vibrant spirit. He was constantly amazed at the way you were seemingly not afraid of anything, as well as your endless enthusiasm for even the most mundane things.

You, on the other hand, admire the youngest Hughes brother. His kindness towards others has you weak in the knees, and his easy charisma and charming smile captivated you from the minute you saw him.

The connection you two had was intense, yet complicated. Despite Luke’s deep feelings and the very obvious chemistry that fizzed between you, there was a barrier. A wall put up around your heart.

You were a free spirit, not one known to be bound by the constraints of a relationship. And the thought of settling down with someone scared you. Every time Luke brought up the two of you potentially being something more, you backed off. You kept an arm's length between you and Luke.

Despite your differences, you couldn’t stay away from each other. Your nights were filled with laughter, stolen glances, and heated encounters that left you both breathless. However, as the days went on, your tryst continuing, Luke found himself yearning for something more, something beyond the fleeting moments you shared.

Catching his eye across the room, you made your way through the crowd to him, apologizing to the bodies you bumped in the crowd. “Dance with me.” You grin, taking his hand in yours.

Luke chuckles, shaking his head. “Not happening.”

“Oh come on.” You groan, pulling him towards the dancefloor. “No one is even watching.”

That wasn’t true. His brother, his captain, and almost all his teammates were watching the bubbly Jersey girl they’d grown to know attempt to get the human equivalent of bambi on ice that was Luke Hughes to dance in public. You pulled him straight to the middle of the crowd, letting the music find you.

You moved with grace and abandon, your movements fluid and carefree. Everything you did was somehow graceful yet carefree. You didn’t think, you just did. He envied your reckless abandon. You didn’t care that others were staring, you weren’t afraid to be unabashedly yourself. Luke, on the other hand, felt like a puppet with tangled strings, his limbs stiff and awkward. He could feel the eyes on him, he could hear his teammates laughing.

You shook your head at his uncoordinated attempts at dancing, the self-consciousness seeping off of him. “You’re too stiff… relax.” You say, bringing your lips to his ear. “I know you can move your hips.”

Luke admired you as you threw your head back, laughing at your subliminal comment. With your guidance, Luke attempted to loosen up, to let the music wash over him and carry him away just as it had done to you. Slowly, tentatively, he began to move in time with the rhythm, his movements becoming less rigid with each passing moment.

“There it is.” You grin. Your arms snake around his shoulders, his hands settling on your waist.

You found a rhythm, swaying together. The world around Luke seemed to fade away, finally enjoying the moment as he got caught up in your infectious joy.

Despite his enjoyment, Luke could only dance for one song before his teammates reminded him of their presence with their hollers and whistles.

“Way to go, Lukey boy!”

“Okay, Don Juan!”

You returned to your table, flushed with excitement. "You know, Luke, you're not so bad on the dance floor after all."

Luke grinned, feeling a surge of affection. Before he knows it, Luke is paying your tabs, getting ready to leave with you. It’s your typical routine, always heading home with one another after a night out.

As you stagger out the front doors, the cool night air washed over you, a refreshing welcome after being in the stuffy club all night. You walked down the sidewalk, hand in hand, your laughter echoing in the empty streets. However, as you walked, Luke felt the knot of uncertainty tightening in his chest.

The ride up in the elevator is silent, you tucked under his arm humming the song that you danced to earlier. Luke's mind races with doubt. While Luke yearned for something more, he was just about to stumble into yet another fleeting moment.

The front door shuts behind Luke, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. “Y/n, I…” He began, voice faltering.

Before he could continue, you placed a finger on his lips. "Shh, Luke. You don't have to say anything."

You drew him close, connecting your lips, enveloping him in warmth. Luke's arms instinctively wrap around your waist, picking you up off the ground and carrying you over to the couch. Laying you down softly, Luke situates himself above you, dropping a knee between your legs. His hand trails up from your waist, up your torso, cupping your breast and giving it a light squeeze.

The soft, desperate moan you let out had him straining beneath his boxers. Briefly, Luke thought that maybe it was fine. He didn’t need to define this. He was comfortable with the casual flings, knowing you made each other feel so good.

No. That’s his dick heart thinking. His brain takes the reigns, snapping him back to reality. Luke knew he couldn't continue living in the shadows of uncertainty, pretending that he was fine with your relationship being nothing more than casual flings.

Luke’s lips detach from yours, leaving you hanging on the edge. Your eyes flicker open, scanning Luke’s face. His mouth is ajar like he’s on the precipice of saying something, eyes soft as he looks down at you.

“What’s wrong, Luke?” You ask, reaching for his face.

He suddenly pulls out of your reach, standing up. You prop yourself on your elbows, watching him step back from the couch. His heart ached as your expression became worried.

“Y/n… I can’t keep doing this.” Luke says, voice wavering in his admission.

You sit up fully, adjusting your crooked shirt and wiping the sides of your mouth. “What do you mean?”

"I can't keep pretending that what we have is enough when it's clearly not." Luke explained

Your eyes widen in surprise, your usual bubbly demeanour faltering for a moment. “Luke…”

He cuts you off, finally having found resolve. “I need more than just casual hookups… I need something real.” Luke says. “And I can't keep doing this with you, hoping that someday you'll realize that you want more than just a casual fling."

His long strides have him by the door in no second, while you’re still on the couch reeling from what he just said. Luke, a hand on the doorknob, looks back at you. He nearly crumbles at the sight. Tears brim in your eyes as you hold yourself tightly. Your mouth moves as you attempt to explain but the words fail to form.

You watch the door slam behind him as Luke leaves you sitting there, feeling foolish. The tears flow down your cheeks leaving mascara stains in their trail.

When Luke enters his apartment, he’s met with his brother half naked on the couch, a girl straddling his hips. “Luke! What are you doing home already?” He asks, the girl throwing herself off of Jack and grabbing his shirt to cover her chest.

Jack was familiar with your guys’s routine. He knew what happened when you two would show up at the same bar, as it frequently ended with him seeing you in his kitchen the next morning. When he witnessed his brother leaving the bar, following you out the doors, he assumed he wouldn’t see his brother till the next morning, and therefore could take advantage of the apartment to himself.

Luke ignores him, bolting straight to his room and slamming the door behind him. Luke throws in his airpods, turning up his music to drown out the thoughts of you.

The next morning, Jack attempts to ask Luke about what happened the night before but is met with an icy response. “Doesn’t matter.” Luke mumbles through a mouthful of cereal. He attempts to pry, at least trying to ask if you’re okay, but it only seems to piss Luke off more.

“Dude, stop fucking asking!” Luke snapped. He huffs, dropping his bowl into the sink. “Listen, I don’t want to talk about it. Now let’s go, we’re gonna be late for morning skate.”

Jack doesn’t press the situation anymore, the drive to the rink done in silence rather than the normal conversation the two would find themselves in.

As Luke laced up his skates in the early morning light, preparing for the routine morning skate, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in the pit of his stomach. Thoughts of you swirled incessantly in his mind, a constant distraction that made it difficult to focus on the task at hand. As he glided across the ice, his movements lacked their usual grace and precision. Every stride felt heavy, every shot missed its mark. His teammates shot him concerned glances, noticing his uncharacteristic lack of enthusiasm.

But it wasn't just the morning skate that suffered. As the final buzzer sounded, signalling the end of the game, Luke couldn't help but feel a sense of defeat wash over him. Not just because of the loss on the scoreboard, but because he found himself unable to shake the nagging feeling that he had made a grave mistake in breaking things off with you. Deep down he knew that it was the healthy decision to end things with you, but his feelings ran deep.

As he and Jack made their way out of the arena and towards their building, Luke's mind churned with a tumultuous mix of emotions. He replayed the moments of last night over and over again, questioning whether he had made the right choice in ending things.

As Jack and Luke approach their building, they spot a figure sitting on the front steps. It doesn’t take the youngest Hughes long to recognize that it’s you, your normally cheery demeanour replaced by tear-stained cheeks. You stand up, Luke’s heart lurching with concern. Jack slips past them, heading inside to give you space to talk.

“I’m sorry for showing up here so late.” You apologize, your voice wavering with emotion. “But I had to tell you this.”

Luke stays silent, allowing you to continue. You sniffle, wiping the tears off your cheeks.

“I do have feelings for you.” You say. “Like I really, really like you.”

Luke felt like his heart skipped a beat. He had harboured feelings for you for months now, just wanting you to reciprocate. He felt a surge of hope go through him, but couldn’t help but feel confused as to why it took so long.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Luke asks.

You let out a dry chuckle, shaking your head, and avoiding Luke’s gaze. “I was afraid.” You admit. “I’ve always been no strings attached… I do what I want and I don’t care what people think. So when I fell for you… I got scared. Because that meant commitment.

“And what if I commit and then get my feelings hurt?” You continue before laughing once again. “But in not committing, I've ended up hurting myself anyway."

Luke reaches out, gently tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. "I thought you weren't afraid of anything," he teased lightly, trying to ease the tension in the air.

A small, watery laugh escapes your lips, a hint of your usual spark returning. "I guess I'm not as fearless as I thought," you admitted, a wistful smile playing on your lips.

Luke’s heart swells with tenderness as he looks into your eyes, vulnerability and honesty shining through. Luke’s hand cups your cheek, his thumb gently stroking it. Relief washes over the both of you, Luke finding relief in his feelings being shared, you finding relief in finally being able to admit to your fears.

Luke leaned in, closing the distance and brushing his lips against yours in a soft, feather-light kiss. All previous kisses shared between the two of you had been heat-of-the-moment kisses with little realized feelings. But this kiss was a gentle, achingly sweet one. Every sensation of you was heightened as you melted into him, savouring the intoxicating feeling of his lips against yours. This kiss was filled with promise, with longing, with the unspoken desire that had simmered between you for so long.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and exhilarated, Luke's eyes searched yours. There was a silent understanding passing between you, a mutual acknowledgment of the feelings that had been laid bare.

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #new jersey devils #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #nhl fic

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helluva-daughter · 5 months

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So let's talk about Vivziepop's designing skills!

The amount of sadness I feel when I see Vivziepop's designs of the demons in Helluva Boss is impossibly high

Simply comparing them from where she is pulling from feels like looking at a newborn compared to a grandma. Now let's go through them!

Lucifer

Viv's Lucifer, a popular depiction of Lucifer ("The Fallen Angel" by Alexandre Cabanel), and one with Jesus ("The Temptation of Christ" by Ary Scheffer)

You can see a big difference in a lot, as you can see Lucy (which will be Viv's version) has well. Clothing but we can give her a pass for that as I don't think Youtube would be fine with an animated dick on screen. Another thing is his lack of wings, bat-like or feathered along with blonde instead of red curled hair and yellow eyes instead of the blue Lucifer has in The Fallen Angel.

But what I see as the biggest thing is Lucy's lack of muscles! In both of these depictions I have chosen Lucifer appears muscular whilst Lucy has Viv's favorite smile and body shape.

Asmodeus

Here we have Viv's Asmodeus (Ozzie) and Asmodeus from Collin de Plancy's "Dictionnaire Infernal"

I will give Viv major props, I LOVE Ozzie's design. If we removed the feathers, made his head bigger, and some small things it would be AMAZING! But comparing it to Asmodeus it's... wooo.... very different.

First you can see is Asmodeus does not look conventionally attractive with his strange old man face, elf ears, bull head, ram head, serpent tail, and literal chicken legs. Ozzie does have the 2 heads on his shoulders (just very small) and a tail (not a serpent one) but other than that the similarities end. Though I do think taking Asmodeus the direction to being physically attractive to most people was a good way to go.

A personal nit pick is the clear lack of a BADASS DRAGON. Yes, Asmodeus has a BADASS DRAGON. On his little Dictionnaire Infernal image he's sitting on a BADASS DRAGON which he holds a banner as he rides. Viv you could have made Fizz a cool dragon demon! Make him look LESS like Blitz's twin brother and more like something that related to the Ars Goetia canon.

Beelzebub

Now this is Viv's Beelzebub and a fly-like Beelzebub (Beelzebul) (I've left out the more manly versions of Beelzebub to keep it fair as Beelzebub is a woman)

So a big thing we can see is Beelzebub is a furry whilst Beelzebul is a straight up fly, taking the term "Lord of the Flies" much more seriously. Now comparing these two is basically impossible minus their wings and extra arms. Now with them looking nothing alike I'll put some of my own personal critique's in.

One, Beelzebub's hair and tail makes me want to vomit. It's constantly moving thus every frame it must be moved which is HORRIBLE on an animation stand point. Two, Her clothes. A direct quote from the Helluva Boss wiki says "Beelzebub represents the animal tamer/animal shows" when her clothing looks like that it's hard to believe. If it was casual clothes? Okay I'd believe that but it being her debut episode wouldn't you want her in her normal clothes? And that's ignoring her magical disappearing bra... is that just an arm strap? Three, the ear thing. God the ear thing! Viv said they were supposed to appear like beehives... girl what beehives have you been seeing? Maybe she meant honeycomb? Still I see zero resemblance.

Mammon

Here we have Viv's Mammon, Mammon (Mam) from the painting "The Worship of Mammon" by Evelyn De Morgan, and Mammon (Mon) from Collin de Plancy's "Dictionnaire Infernal"

As we can see Mammon looks like the Teen Titans Go Robin mixed with a Christmas tree, the Christmas theming is quite clever I'll give Viv that. Christmas is a time of greedily taking all that is given to you through gifts. Now I could complain about how Mammon is poor rep for a fat character and simply is a widened version of her normal body type but I already made a post about that

But comparing him to Mam and Mon? Nothing similar. Mam we can see appears like a very large naked buff dark skinned man whilst Mon is a freakish old man with wide eyes and tattered clothes. Mammon shares zero similarities to either of them.

Another thing is Mammon's monster form... I believe everybody has seen it and hochie momma it is HORRIBLE! From the screenshots I've seen we don't see all of it but he's clearly intended to be a spider of sorts which is great! Spiders can often be seen with 6 flies trapped on their web being hoarded for later but Viv seems to have taken the lazy route of extra legs and 2 extra set of eyes. Anthro spiders can be so so SO cool but I feel scammed. Stolen from. My life savings have been taken by this shitty design.

Paimon

Here we have Vivziepop's Paimon and Paimon (Paimonia) from Collin de Plancy's "Dictionnaire Infernal"

As we can see they appear nothing alike minus the crown and odd chicken legs though Paimon lacks the camel that Paimonia has. Paimonia also has a feminine face and a humanoid body, nothing like Paimon. Though I personally think Paimon's design is stunning what made Viv connect the two, is it because the Goetia family is intended to all be ripped from the Ars Goetia? I feel though that Paimon's design takes as much as it can from Paimonia while making him look related to Stolas but why does he need to be named Paimon?

Stolas

Here we have Vivzie's Stolas and Stolas (Stolos) from Collin de Plancy's "Dictionnaire Infernal"

So, I have a lot of issues with Stolas's design, it's ugly first of all but compared to Stolos's cute yet shocked wide eyes and charming little beak it's even more obvious how ugly it is.

First, Stolos is shown as an owl (but also is described as a Raven). which Viv got right along with keeping his crown and odd horn-like feathers. However, I believe making Stolas that skinny doesn't follow the model of most owls as they can be pretty fluffy and plump. Even Stolos has a round fluffy chest that trails into his comically long legs.

Second, that cape is very horrifying but not in a good way. Nobody wants to animate a cape with that many rips! Even if they don't have to be precise. Also, why do his buttons have no lineart when everything else around it has lineart? I have the same issue with Blitz's design and his random chest orbs.

Feel free to put in your own reblogs and replies with your opinions! You can also send in asks with designs from HH or HB that aren't linked to previously existing designs unlike these fellows and I'll throw in my personal thoughts.

-Mod Paimon

#mod paimon #helluva critical #anti helluva boss #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique #vivziepop critical #anti vivziepop #hazbin critique #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique

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we-out-here-simping · 2 months

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You, Me, Lonely.

(s.h. x reader)

from the river to the sea (educate yourself and help however you can)

Summary: you love Steve, Steve loves you. But maybe you both want different things from life.

Warnings/tags: reader menstruates (reader has uterus), abandonment issues, the ‘six nuggets’ talk, suggestive

Word count: 3.4k

masterlist

a/n: huge huge huge thanks to @procrastinationprincesses for helping me out with this fic and giving it an ending (ur amazing sanjana <3)

writing and posting something because i might have to go MIA for a lil bit (miss me while I'm gone will ya?)

fic is inspired by ‘You, Me, Lonely’ by FIZZ i absolutely love this song like its so close to my heart ughh what can i say I'm a little bitter about the six nuggets scene

also if you couldn't tell already I have major abandonment issues and an anxious avoidant attachment style. It will reflect in what i write soz :(

In the quiet of the night, you wish for this to last forever. That you'll have him forever.

When you came out of the shower you found him asleep on his side of the bed. His side– the one closer to the door. ‘so I can protect you from anyone who'll try to steal you from me’, he had justified it when you asked him why he was adamant on that side.

you had turned off the bedside lamp ten minutes ago, slipped under the duvet, as quietly as possible so as to not wake him up. on your side of his bed. your bed.

He always sleeps on his stomach, one hand under his pillow and the other extended a little towards yours. His body moves with steady and slow breaths, back rising and falling under the covers, head peeking out from under the rumpled up duvet. his cheeks are squished against the pillow cover. His hair is a mess from the lack of hair product, and still damp from the shower he took before you. There's a few strands of his brown hair sprawled across his forehead too. With your softest touch you brush them away from his eyes.

You wonder what he was dreaming. you hope it was something nice. He looks calm, at peace, and very, very pretty.

You look at him and you know you love him. You want to love him forever.

Love had never seemed like the type of thing you’ll get– like it wasn't meant for you. But then you met him. This boy. This boy who you never thought to be your type. You never thought you even had a type. But his boyish charm and stupid grin won you over.

Your heart doesn't skip beats around him anymore, and you’d think that that means he doesn’t have that same effect on you anymore but that would be wrong. You don’t think you’ve ever loved anyone as much as you do to him. You don’t look at him and get butterflies in your stomach, you look at him and… you’re sure. your heart is quiet and sure. You don't think you’ve ever been sure before.

You want to be sure forever.

He feels like the comfortable still of rain after a scorching hot summer, like the calm and cold breeze that cools you down. Like standing at the top of the mountain, looking at the clouds and valleys below, he feels like the crisp air that fills your lungs. Like the comfort meal your mom makes– the one you can never really recreate, the one that tastes the best when it comes from her.

You love him and you know. You know. You know he likes you, loves you even.

Steve Harrington loves you like a dream, and you're worried that one day he’ll wake up, look at you and realise that he deserves so much better. He’ll wake up and he’ll leave for work and he’ll bump into a pretty angel of a girl with a disposition as bright as his. And he’ll never return. people fall out of love. People fall out of love all the time.

You wish for him to love you forever.

How long is a forever anyway?

You wonder what it'll be like. When you're older, with wrinkles, white hair and weaker limbs.

It's like you see it.

You and him in a bed– just like now but older, wiser, more tired. His back turned to you. There'd be distance between you two, you’d want to move closer and hold him– but you wouldn't. You’d just stare at the back of his head, counting all the grey hairs you’d memorised like all the moles and wrinkles on his skin.

You’d notice his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest and you would have known him so long and so well that you'd just know that he wasn't actually asleep. you'd know why he wasn't asleep.

there'd be a pain in your chest. You would know what it is, why its there. You would gulp and try not to think about it.

“Do you always stare at me in my sleep?” his groggy voice pulls you out of your own head.

You blink, multiple times. Forever, right.

He softly smiles up at you. You blink away before moving to lay on your back, the sheets rustling with your movement. “sorry I woke you up”, you mumble an apology, staring at the ceiling, you fail to hide the shake in your voice.

“Y’kay?”

“Yeah.” the sheets beside you ruffle but you keep your eyes trained on the ceiling. it seems inevitable. You know, one day it'll happen and despite having expected it, it’ll be the greatest heartbreak of them all.

“Thinking ‘bout somethin’?” he sounds a bit more awake.

“When am I not?” you shake your head and laugh hoping he doesn't notice that it isn't real, thankful that the curtains didn't let in any moonlight and that you had turned off the lights.

“What is it?” but this is Steve, he doesn’t need to see you to know how you’re feeling.

“Nothing.”

“Were you lying about liking the pasta I made?”

“No, Steve it was good”, a real laugh slips out of you, and you finally look at him. He’s leaning on his elbow, the messy head of hair in his hand, looking down at you. You suddenly wish it wasn’t so dark so you could see the colour of his eyes, the moles and freckles on his skin.

“Then what?”

“Nothing.” your gaze moves back to the ceiling.

“Must be something if it's keeping you up”, you feel him shift closer to you. He smells of fresh shower, mint, shaving cream and washed laundry.

“No, I'm just…. not sleepy.”

“Yeah?”, he raises his eyebrows with a sly smirk, “Well, I know a way to make you sleepy”, he leans down– both arms caging you in, landing a kiss on your neck before trailing further up to your lips. and its lovely, so god damn lovely, you don't want it to stop but this hurts.

“Ste– mmph– Steve stop”, you turn your face away, because if he keeps going, you think you'll cry, palm pushing flat against his bare chest, “I’m– I'm not in the mood.”

“Okay, I'm sorry”, he moves back onto his one elbow. The silence gestates for a while, you can feel his eyes on you. The ticking of the clock is the only thing heard through the room before he softly says, “Hey, please tell me what's happening?”

“Nothing”, you shook your head, “I’m just tired.”

“You just said you're not sleepy.”

“J– just go back to sleep okay? sorry for waking you up”, you turn onto your side, face away from him.

He sidles up behind you after a second or two, warm breath across the back of your neck, you squeeze your eyes shut. “yeah, like that's gonna put me to sleep", he mutters behind you.

His arms snake around your waist, pulling you in closer, “C'mon, you know I wont be able to sleep after fighting”, burying his nose in your hair– he sighed.

“Did you just sniff my hair?”

“Yeah, I do all the time. smells s’good."

"You pervert", you both laugh lightly at that, your hand going for his around your waist, before your smiles fall and silence takes over once again.

You lick your drying lips, you forgot to put on lip balm again, “We’re not fighting, Steve.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You take in a deep breath in, fingers drawing patterns on the back of his hand, you breath out, “m’sorry.”

His arms squeeze tighter around you, he lets out a quick sigh before placing a kiss on your shoulder, “I’ll forgive you if you tell me what’s going on with you.”

“Steve…”, your voice trails off, you're not even sure what you were going to say.

“Is it— Is it your…. Uh, that time of the month?”

That makes you want to roll your eyes at him and smack his chest but you restrain yourself, you’re not sure if you want him to see your eyes right now anyway. Instead, you sigh, “I had it last week, Steve.”

You got it in this very same bed. Awoken by cramps in the middle of the night. and Steve, your lovely Steve had given you a hot water bag while he took off the sheets and put on fresh new ones and then gave you a soft massage that put you to sleep.

“right... yeah, sorry," he says all sheepish, “So what is it then? Did someone say somethin’ at work?”

“No.”

“Did I.. " he hesitated a little, "did I say something?”

“...no”, you curse yourself for pausing before saying it.

“I did, didn't I?”

“No, no. you–”

“honey, you should tell me if I ever say stupid shit– you should call me out immediately–”

“You didn't say anything stupid or whatever. I'm the one who's being stupid.”

his hold on you loosened, he shifted back to give you space to turn around, “What did I say? Hey, look at me,” you finally turn in his hold, facing him “what did I say?”

“We’d have the cutest little kids, won't we?”

“..what?” You stood infront of the kitchen sink. your hands stopped their scrubbing at the pot you were washing. You tilted your head towards him who had his head rested on your shoulder, his arms around your waist.

“Little Harringtons”, you could hear the smile on his lips.

“Harringtons?”

“Or maybe we get our names hyphenated. That works too, it’d be cute”, his hands hold your waist, his duty of drying the plates abandoned. “They’d have my fabulous hair, and your pretty, pretty eyes– cutest kids around the block”

“Our kids?” you repeated dumbly.

“Yeah, and six of ‘em. six little nuggets. They’ll make up half of a football team”, he giggled, warm air hitting the side of your face, “Doesn’t that sound lovely?” he smiled at you.

“...yeah. Yeah, it does.” you smiled back at him which only made him grin wider. His arms tighten around you again, and lips start a trail from behind your ears to down your neck.

You scoffed softly "You’re supposed to help me wash dishes you filthy animal."

“Oh, fine,” he gave you an over dramatic sigh, before his hands left your sides, skin feeling lonely as ever.

“No, it's fine. I’m almost done anyway", you went back to scrubbing at the bottom of the pot, "Just go and take a shower, you reek.”

“Alright, fine, I’ll go!” he groaned, playfully as a kid, before he leaned against the counter, looking at you with his ‘Harrington charm’. His voice is silky when he asks, “Will you join me?”

“Steve." you said it almost as a warning.

“I don’t hear a no.”

“Okay then, no.”

“Tomorrow morning…?”

“I have an early shift tomorrow, you horndog.”

“We'll make it work.”

“No.”

“Okay", he sighs, “come up quickly though, I wanna be the big spoon today”, pecking your cheek before leaving for the shower upstairs.

Looking at him, you brush the now mostly dry hair falling on his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. Your fingers lingered there, you smile, “nothing, Steve.” your thumb rubs back and forth on the apple of his cheeks. “You didn’t say anything. it's stupid.”

His hand reaches up to hold your fingers in place, he turns his head a little to kiss your knuckles, “okay, I didn't say anything” he kisses your knuckles again, gaze stuck to your face, “but could you tell me what it is you think you’re being stupid about?”

God, I love him, you think. “Don't worry about it”, your voice barely a whisper as you attempt to give him a smile. You move closer, planting a slow kiss on his lips which are so much softer than yours– he never forgets his chapstick.

And god, you needed this, your brain stops when you kiss him. thoughts quelled and its quiet again. After some time though, your throat starts to burn and your chest is on the verge of a sob. So, when you pull away, you fail to hide the stuttered breath that you take in.

Steve knew there was something to worry about, but when he hears your breath that almost sounds like a sob, he’s immediately on high alert. Before he can brush your hair out of your face to look at you, really look at you, you bury your face in his chest.

It takes him a second to realize that you’re crying and it breaks his heart because you’re trying to hide it.

“Baby..” he feels you curl in further, your face warm against his skin. He moves to pull you in closer, palm holding the back of your head. He just wanted to take away whatever it was that was bothering you. He tried to pull away to get a look at your face to help you calm down but you wouldn't let him. He settles on carding his fingers through your hair, rubbing circles on the little sliver of exposed skin between your t-shirt and shorts, hoping it gives you some sort of comfort.

"Honey", it is then that you finally let in a shaky breath. he feels the skin where you hid your face get wet maybe with tears, sweat, snot, he didn't care-- he just wanted to take all your pain away.

You both stay that way, and you're suprised by how much you sob, how hard you heave. You weren't sure how long you stayed that way, maybe minutes, maybe hours, however long. It feels like forever.

At this moment, encased in Steve's arms, breath hot against his skin, despite the nose plugged with snot, lashes clumped with tears, eyes squinted shut, you think this is comfortable. Yet it hurts. Because you'll have to pull away. It hurts so damn much because you know how this can go, you know it can hurt so, so much more. You know it will hurt.

You want this to last forever, however fucking long one of those is.

So, you hold on longer because, you’re selfish with your love for Steve. You're selfish because despite the heartache, you’ll have him, for as long as you can.

His hold on you gentle yet firm, as if afraid he'd break you. In your head, he already had. He tries to pull away again, to look at you but you can't. Your eyes still squinted close, willing it all to be a stupid dream. “Honey, I promise you whatever it is, you can tell me”, he says, voice soft as feather. Of course it's not a dream.

Your tongue betrays you, “Its…s–” stupid. Silly. It really doesn't feel stupid or silly, but god, you're so scared that you can't say it, you didn't want to say it because if you do it’ll come true, wont it?

“Whatever it is that you think is stupid," he assured you as if he could read your mind, "I still want to hear it because I know I won't think it's stupid."

suddenly it burns, and you need air. you sit up and try not to think about how ridiculously not pretty you probably look with snot running down your face, “What if- what if we- we end up hating each other?” you manage to say through hiccups.

“What?” he sits up as well, he says as if you had said the most ridiculous thing, “I'll never hate you, honey.”

For some reason, tears fill your eyes again at that, “Steve, you don’t know that.��

“Yeah, I do.”

“No. Ste– people fall out of love, Steve- all the- all the time.” It terrifies him how convinced you sound of it.

“Do..... do you think you’ll fall out of love with me?”

The question startles you, its evident in your wide eyes, “Wha– what?”

“Do you think… you’ll fall out of love with me?" he repeats, "You think you’ll hate me?”

You shake your head, the tear that had been sitting on your lower lash finally slides down your already tear-stained cheek.

“Good." he wipes the wet trails left behind with his thumb, "then, why would I hate you?”

Your face twists into an expression that Steve wasn't sure what to describe it as. a deep frown on your lips, chin wobbly, brows scrunched up together, eyes red and tired yet nostrils flared. “‘Cause", you start but before you could continue another sob leaves you. you look down at your lap, trying to catch your breath. it takes you a minute before you begin again, "do you remember.... what you said about our kids?”

He nods, heart clenching at the way your voice breaks, “I don't think I can… do that”, he doesn't think he's ever heard you sound so broken. “I– I don't think if I– if I want that.”

He sits silent and you think this is it. maybe forevers aren't that long after all.

More tears fall, more sobs leave you, you don't bother to wipe them. What's it matter anyway? He hates you already. He's probably thinking of a way to let you down easily because he is kind like that “Honey.. I want a family..” you feel your heart ripping in two and you just can't look at him.

“And I want you to be a part of that family. I– I want you to be the person I built a family with, no matter the size." He wipes at both your cheeks again, making you look at him, "even if its just us.”

The relieved smile he expected from you isn't there, instead, you frown, the crease between your brows deepens. the part that hurt the most was that you push his hands away, “you’re saying that now, but what happens when years down the line, when we’re old, you– you end up resenting me. Y- you love me right now, I know. But how do you know you wont end up hating me like, ten years later?”

“I dont want to watch you grow old and hate me and then leave me, Steve. I’d rather end this now if we’re destined to just end up unhappy together.”

“We’re not. Okay? We’re not. I know I wont hate you, ever.” He reaches for your hands again. He kisses your fingers before continuing, “And I know that I want you, just you and whatever that– that that comes with. We could never have kids and I would never hate you for it.”

“You won't be happy", you say meekly, like he'd be mad at you for speaking what was on your mind to him, “You wont hate me but you wont be happy either”, you muttered, chin ducked into your chest.

“Honey”, he hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your head to make you look at him, to make you understand. “you’re what I need to be happy. You make me happy. And.. I’d hope you need me to be happy too”, a wet chuckle escapes you at that. A hint of a smile on your face despite the tears.

“You do, don’t you?” he clarified with a soft smile of himself.

You nod, "yeah", letting out a loud sniffle.

“Good. I know its scary but you’ve gotta put your trust in me. Trust me enough to believe in me when I say that you are what makes me happy. and I am happy."

He wipes away gently at your face, ridding it of the tear stains, “Sometimes, you’ve just gotta trust. I promise I’ll never break it.”

You sob again but it's lighter than before, you wrap your arms around his neck and feel the weight you felt get lifted, you sniffle into the crook of his neck, "thank you."

You feel his lips on your hairline, "Let's go back to sleep, yeah?"

"Yeah. You still wanna be the big spoon?"

"yeah, I think you need to be the little spoon today." he pulls you down with him, your back to his chest, kissing the skin behind your ear he finally settles in beside you.

You call out his name, he hums in response. "how long do you think a forever is?"

"I don't know, honey."

"Can we stay like this forever?"

"Um.. if you mean us staying forever then yes, definitely forever. But, if you meant me being the big spoon forever, baby, I'm not sure if I'll be able to commit to that."

You laugh, "I love you." you confess.

"I love you too."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x you #stranger things x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfiction #Spotify

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drama-glob · 6 months

Text

Although Fizz having a panic attack and saying he feels worthless if he doesn't have his fame/the contract with Mammon is absolutely heartbreaking, the amount of time Fizz brushes off or rejects Ozzie touching him makes the scene all the sadder to me. ;_; With each one, you can see Ozzie looking more and more concerned and with physical touch being a big part of their relationship and comforting one another (since as far as we've learned, Fizz's prosthetics can't feel and that's why they do so many forehead touches and nuzzles), to see Fizz push Ozzie away when he's trying to find out what's wrong, offer comfort and show he's there for Fizz, it breaks my heart too. ;_; ;_; ;_; I know Fizz didn't want to admit there was a problem or the real reason why he needed to win the competition and that pressing someone in distress doesn't always help, especially if it's something they're not ready to talk about, but Fizz was clearing doing more harm than good to himself here by keeping it bottled up along with the constant pressure and worry to be perfect. ;_; ;_; ;_;

I wouldn't be surprised if that's the main reason why Ozzie takes it slow before he tries the final time to offer comfort to Fizz, so as to first give Fizz the verbal reassurance that he is an amazing performer and that Ozzie truly does loves him in order for him to hopefully accept it. <3<3<3<3

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thatstonedwriter · 6 months

Text

⋆｡˚ 「 Sweet Relief 」 ⋆｡˚

◉ Sinopsis; Fizz and Asmodeus convince their partner to take care of themself

◉ Warnings; mentions of mental illness, refusal to take medication, insecurity

──˙•˚∘✮🌙ᯓ🪐˙•˚∘ ──

Staring at the pill bottle on the bathroom counter, you mull over your options. You know it could help, you know that's what the pills are there for. On the other hand, you could always tough out the pain, wait to take you meds tomorrow when you really need them. There are 100 excuses you can think of, but Fizzarolli and Asmodeus won't have it.

It's hard when you won't allow yourself a reprieve from the physical or psychological discomfort that comes with not taking your medications.

Whether its for a headache, back pain, your joints, or something going on psychologically, it's important to remember that medication is there to help you- that's what Fizz and Ozzie try to remind you, anyway.

Asmodeus usually takes the lead as caretaker in the relationship, so he takes on the tasks of supplying you with water and making sure your medications are somewhere accessible (the lack of object permanence can be a bitch, am I right?)

If you're sitting somewhere and you don't wanna get up- guess what comes in handy? Fizz's robotic limbs! He's also happy to grab you snacks and drinks from the kitchen using his limbs, but that'll probably result in a mess.

I think Asmodeus would give amazing massages- and not just for your back. If your joints hurt, doesn't matter where, he's always willing to help you out. Please let him, he really wants to.

Ozzie is also the one to handle what goes on in the kitchen. He's all about making your comfort foods, especially because it gives you all an excuse to cuddle on the couch and watch a show.

What won't be tolerated is you coming up with every excuse under the sun to not take your medications. It doesn't matter how slight the inconvenience of if you're missing "just one day"

Of course Fizz and Ozzie understand how extreme pain or a lack of motivation can make it difficult to get up and take your meds- but that's what your partners are there for! At the end of the day, it comes down to you not wanting to be an inconvenience to them, but you're not, and you never will be.

── ˙•˚∘✮ 🔭๋࣭ᯓ🌙˙•˚∘ ──

#helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss headcanon #fizz x ozzie x reader #fizz x reader #fizzarolli helluva boss #helluva fizzarolli #ozzie helluva boss #asmodeus helluva boss #asmodeus x reader #ozzie x reader #helluva boss fluff #romantic headcanons #polyam relationship #polyam fizz x ozzie x reader #request #writings.onthe.wall

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starrluvs · 6 months

Note

can you please… facesitting but with raiden and kung lao? i’m begginf

𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍 | 𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐀𝐎 + 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

cw: afab reader, oral (fem receiving), facesitting, established relationship (raiden), rivals or fwb (kung lao), raiden being a sweetheart, kung lao being a cocky mf

wc: 709

a/n: my first anon request eeee tysm <3 !! i've never considered writing for kung lao or raiden before, but this was fun to write! maybe i'll be open to write about more mk men apart from the lin kuei trio... also, requests/asks are open, so come talk to me or send some asks!

𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍

raiden was a sweet man. he was kind, hardworking, humble and open to new opportunities and challenges. so when you told him that you wanted to try sitting on his face, he agreed, telling you that he’d do his best.

lucky for you, his best was more than enough. raiden was underneath you, listening to all the moans that left your lips while he slowly ran his tongue deep inside your slick walls. the tingling feeling made your toes curl as you whimpered out his name,

the champion hums against your pussy, making you shiver from the jolt of vibrations lingering through your core. you look down at raiden, and the sight of him so willingly smothering himself into you made your cheeks rise in temperature. his eyebrows were knitted close together and his eyes were closed as he was solely focused on bringing you pleasure.

as if he could feel your stare, raiden opens his shining brown eyes and stops what he’s doing for just a quick moment. he was able to see your hair become fizzed and quite messy, but he only let out a small chuckle before asking you if he was doing a good job and if you were feeling good.

his humbleness showing out once again made you smile and reassure him that he was doing an amazing job. upon hearing your answer, raiden wastes no time diving back in, except this time he held onto your waist gently.

you squeal as you feel him flick your clit and leave soft kisses on it before delving his tongue back into your heat. you whimper at the feeling of his wet muscle entering you again and place your smaller hands over his bigger ones that were still planted on your hips.

with your back arched and eyes screwed shut, you continued to yelp and squeal in pleasure. he knew you couldn’t see him, but just the view of his beloved on top of him like this was something to remember forever.

he’d definitely have to do this more often with you.

𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐀𝐎

unlike raiden, kung lao wasn’t necessarily the most humble man in all the realms. imagine the big game he would talk just to get between your legs– so much speeches about how he would be able to please you better than any of your past sexual partners– even have you cumming for him multiple times… and he wasn't completely wrong about it either.

you had already reached your first orgasm, but kung lao had no intentions of stopping his ministrations on your pussy. his lips suctioned around your overstimulated clit, causing you to try and squirm away from him. your previous orgasm still had you in a daze, and you were sure the monk’s ego had already been stroked at how poorly you were handling yourself above him.

much to your liking, kung lao lets you hover above his face, leaving you out of reach from his mouth. he watches you catch your breath and takes the opportunity to open his mouth and tease you, telling you that he ‘told you so’.

you couldn’t stand it… you couldn't stand that he was right. you couldn't stand his cocky smile that showed off his dimples– but maybe seeing him soaked like this with your juices wasn’t all that bad. with a quick dismissal of his comments, you feel your body come down from its high and sit back down on his face.

this time, his hands fly up to grip your thighs, kneading your soft flesh and urging you to keep grinding on his tongue that was licking up every last drop of your sweet juices. panting and feeling short of breath, you cup the back of his head for support to sit up and compose yourself.

you were able to feel kung lao’s smug grin against your pussy. he knew that he had already won you over with just his tongue. and with the way the motion of your hips started speeding up– practically using his face and tongue for yet another release– confirmed that he officially had you lost in pleasure and he loved it.

you were never gonna hear the end of this once you two were done here.

#raiden #kung lao #raiden x reader #kung lao x reader #raiden smut #kung lao smut #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat smut

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fizzy-blood · 25 days

Text

Eyeless Jack x GN!Reader Headcanons (NSFW)

Another request from a friend on Discord (I'm 100% not hyperfixated on writing rn) so enjoy 18+ warning This content Includes : Blood kink, size kink, corruption kink "knife" play, aggressive dom Jack, reader might have autassassinophilia, minor dubcon elements.

Ok to start off nice and simple this man will go from completely calm to being the most horney person you've ever met

Like one moment you're vibing in his room sitting next to him and the next you're being bent over his bed having your guts rearranged

Many things could cause this, the thing I like to think that causes this to happen the most is that Jack can tell if you're horney

Even the slightest changes to the way you look, act or smell will let him know

The point is if you're in the mood so is he

Some of the other things that get him going include stuff like borrowing his stuff or sitting on his lap (also if you somehow cut yourself and he notices it, let me just say that you will not be walking for days)

OK, I really want to do a dick description so I'm just gonna drop it here

This man is huge, sure his dick may not have been small when he was human but the whole demon thing definitely added to it

around 8.5 inch w a slight curve to the left, not super thick but noticeably larger then a humans

It's mostly gray like the rest of him but the head is like an inky black colour

Not only is he big but he also has multiple tongues, three to be exact and boy does he know how to use them

He'll eat you out regardless of your sex

Afab? He'll have your hips pinned to the bed and he abuses your clit w one tongue while the other two make there way inside you

Amab? Prepare for the greatest blowjob in the history of all man kind

Now another thing about him being a demon is the idea of him going into heat

When he's not and you want sex he'll normally agree, not much to worry about there

But when he's in heat? Oh boy can it be a nightmare...

No self-control whatsoever, like at all

Even if you don't want sex in that moment he'll be pushing you onto your back, forcing his way inside of you

Even if you didn't consent at first and wanted him off of you, you'll definitely want him to finish what he started

When in heat he'll not really care if he hurts you

In fact, he gets off to it when in that state

Biting you hard enough to draw blood, scratching at your skin, even taking a scalpel and cutting you open to see your pretty red blood

Because of his height you'll probably be shorter than him (he's like 6'8ft) and he's completely fine with it

He likes how small you are compared to him, it makes him think of you as this small helpless being that he needs to protect and care for

Another thing is if you're a virgin

Jack probably hasn't had any sex since the whole cult thing but even he has some experience

So when finds out that you're a virgin? He has to restrain himself from ripping your clothes off and fucking you right then and there

Jack kinda sees you as this pure angelic being, so when he's fucking you you've gotta be ready for an amazing combination or degrading and praise

He'll tell you how much he loves you one minute and will be calling you a slut the next

BONUS!! (Aftercare)

You're obviously going to be super sore after sex and Jack is fully aware of that

Lucky for you, Jack is super sweet afterwards

Need water? On it.

Ice? Already there.

Still bleeding? He's already grabbing some band aids.

Want to take a bath? He'll join you and help you clean yourself up.

Again, you wont be able to walk for a little while afterwards so if if you need to go somewhere, Jack will carry you to wherever you need/want to be

He'll also lay next to you in bed or have you lay on top of him and let you sleep on him

That's all for now, hope you enjoyed! -Fizz

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta headcanon #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack #eyeless jack smut #eyeless jack headcanon

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vikkirosko · 3 months

Note

Hello. Can I request Mammon, Andrealphus, Ozzie (+ Fizz), Husk and Vox with sinner S/O, who can reader others auras (like Dawn from Total Drama) and could do this even as a human?

Headcanons Auras

🃏 Husk x Reader 🥃

You and Husk met at the hotel. You were one of the first guests there, and the only one who really believed that there was an opportunity to atone for sins. However, there was something else that seemed strange to others. You could read other people's auras

Your words about reading auras were like you could do magic. He didn't know how true your words were, but it reminded him of the time when he was alive. You didn't look like magicians who staged magic shows, but you were able to arouse his curiosity, so he, with quite real enthusiasm, asked you about your abilities, which turned out to be quite real

You told him that you could read auras seemingly from birth. Because of this, you used to have a lot of problems and you used to hide it. When you told him about it, you said you wanted to do something very important. Husk didn't immediately understand what you meant, but he quickly understood why you warned him, because the important thing was hugs. You hugged him, quietly telling him that you had noticed from your first meeting how sad his aura was

If there was someone else next to you, he would have pushed you away, but now you were alone, so he hesitantly hugged you back. He didn't admit that you seemed like a nice person to him, and now he wasn't ready to admit that his heart felt warm from your care. You saw how hard it was for him and sincerely wanted to support and help him. For Husk, who was used to numbing the pain of alcohol, it meant a lot

🖥 Vox x Reader 📱

You met Vox thanks to Velvet. You worked for her, often accompanying her and quite often helping Velvet. At first, Vox didn't pay attention to you, but he wondered why she kept you next to her. Velvet told him that one of the reasons was that he saw the auras of others

At first, Vox did not believe what Velvet told him, and at some point forgot about it completely. He remembered this when he came irritated to a meeting with Velvet and Valentino. They were both late, but you were in the room. Vox hid his irritation well, which only intensified, but you said that Velvet and Valentino would come very soon. When Vox told you that he didn't care at all, you told him that it wasn't true and that his aura spoke more honestly about him than his words

You could actually read the auras of others. It was with you even before your death and often helped you, both before and after death. Vox started taking you with him a lot, even if he wasn't planning on going anywhere. Velvet was initially outraged, because you were her subordinate, but over time she stopped worrying too much about it. You told Vox about auras, and over time your topics of conversation began to change. He was more interested in your personality than your ability to read auras, even though he considered it a useful skill

Vox himself did not notice how his interest in you began to have more than just a business character. He wanted to get to know you better. He wasn't ready to admit to himself or others that it was more than just an interest, but it wasn't as easy to hide it from you as it seemed to him

🦚 Andrealphus x Reader ❄️

Your acquaintance with Andrealphus was due to his sister. He was very surprised that she was communicating with an ordinary sinner. It could only mean that you stood out among them in some way, and that piqued his curiosity. Outwardly, you seemed like an ordinary sinner. You were quiet, calm, but you guessed the moods of the people around you with amazing accuracy. When Andrealphus asked you directly about this, you honestly told him that you can read other people's auras

At first, your words seemed to him nonsense, but when you said something about him that even his sister did not know, he became convinced that you really were different from other sinners. He was trying to find out who you made a deal with in exchange for your power, but as you said yourself, it was from birth. Even when you were alive, you could read other people's auras, even though you had to hide it for your own safety. Andrealphus was wondering what other secrets you kept and how else your ability could help

Andrealphus gave you a job to make sure that your power would not be used against him. Sometimes you seemed strange to him, but over time you began to communicate. Sometimes he thought that if you had been born in Hell, he would have turned his attention to you long ago, but better late than never

Andrealphus hid the feelings he started to have for you. It wasn't something he was willing to reveal even to you, which was directly related to his feelings. He saw how you became more open towards him and your relationship became better. He intended to tell you about his feelings, but not anytime soon, he wasn't ready to admit that he had feelings for a sinner

🎪 Fizzarolli x Reader x Asmodeus 💕

You met Fizzarolli before his career began. You were a friendly and gentle sinner who perfectly guessed the moods of others. You were there for Fizzarolli even after he was injured and you met Asmodeus together. He was one of the first people you had a hard time understanding

Only after a while did you tell them both your secret, which you could only entrust to them, the two whom you trusted and whom you loved. You could read people's auras. This ability was with you back when you were alive and you didn't know where this ability came from, but you used it to simplify your life, and even in Hell this ability remained with you. You could easily read the auras of other sinners, you could read the auras of the hellborn, but it was very difficult for you to read Asmodeus' aura and you did not understand the reason. They both listened to you, but their opinion of you didn't get any worse, to your relief

Ozzie offered to try to develop your new skills, seeing potential in them, but he did not force you, reminding you to focus on your sense of comfort, because he sincerely loved you and did not want you to force yourself to do anything. Ozzie and Fizz supported you when you began to develop your abilities, under the strict guidance of Asmodeus, and you supported them and took care of both of them

You didn't use your ability on purpose, because for you to see other people's auras was as natural as breathing, which they both knew. Asmodeus and Fizzarolli didn't consider your abilities to be something that they should have started treating you differently. For them, you were still the same (Y/N), and that wouldn't have changed even if reading auras wasn't the only thing you hid from them

🤡 Mammon x Reader 💰

Mammon found out about you through rumors. He heard that there was a sinner in Hell who had the strange power to read other people's minds. Even in Hell, this was not so easy to meet, and Mammon saw this as a benefit for himself. He decided to use this ability and arranged your meeting for this, but you turned out to be not what he expected. You were kind and attentive to others, but more importantly, you couldn't read minds, you could read other people's auras

Mammon hired you anyway and it took you a while to explain to him how your skill works. You told him that you didn't get this skill in Hell. You were born with this skill and didn't know where you got this ability from. For you, reading other people's auras was as natural as breathing. You told him about other people's auras and what the colors of the auras meant. You've become something like his assistant

Over time, Mammon became attached to you. You were the one who always listened to him and by one look at him you understood what kind of emotions he was experiencing, although it was more difficult to read his aura than the auras of sinners. Mammon boldly called you his friend and you didn't argue with that, even when you noticed that he began to feel more than friendly feelings for you

Working for Mammon was a big leap up for you, but you weren't going to use it. Your friendliness towards him was sincere and you hoped that you would be able to see his sincerity someday, not only in his aura, but also in his actions

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel headcanons #Helluva Boss #Helluva Boss x Reader #Helluva Boss headcanons #Husk #Husk x Reader #Vox #Vox x Reader #Andrealphus #Andrealphus x Reader #Asmodeus #Asmodeus x Reader #Fizzarolli #Fizzarolli x Reader #Mammon #Mammon x Reader

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fluloa · 1 year

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okay well now i’m going to be the one to ask you for the step!dad jake request bc I NEED IT, your jake fics are god tier fr

it’s time that i hop onto the wagon. also i have hadf a few glasses of wine

warnings — praise, stepcest, masturbation, rough fingering/fuck, little bit of awkward step-daddy jake, in heat shit, stomach bulge, daddy kink

fingers stuffed in your cunt and legs spread wide open, you hadn't expected for the flaps of your marui's pod to fling open.

"holy mother of eywa—" jake curses, shrieking at your dazed, whiney state with your really wet and bare pussy on display and he swings the flap back shut. you scream as well, embarrassment shaking through your system but it's immediately numbed by your heat fizzing up your body, stilling your mind and forcing your thoughts to only focus on your orgasm that you can't reach.

the smell of you reaches jake's nose, your sweet caramel-like aroma fogging up his senses. he understood now. why you had been stooped up in your moss of bed for the past few days, why you were so distant at dinnertime, why you had been avoiding him so much.

you were in heat.

his poor babygirl, fingering her pussy while she whined and withered in utter torture. that's why you were hissing with pain. not because you were hurt or sick, but because you were in fucking heat.

then he realizes you haven't stopped, by the continued noises of small gushing and pathetic high-pitched whimpers. "hey, sweetheart?"

you only whine in reply.

jake clears his throat, trying so hard not to focus on the way your pussy messily quelches each time your fingers thrust inside of it. he re-adjusts his loincloth, cringing at his growing bulge pressing up against it. "does it hurt? baby?"

"oh," you grit out a moan, and jake can hear the way you kick your feet against the woven ground. "mmmhm... daddy, 's hurts."

"didn't catch that. what was that?"

"it hurts," you groan. "please, daddy, come.. in here. i need- i nee... i need..."

jake gently pries open the flap of the pod once again, creeping his head past it and there you are, just like before, fucking yourself dumb with your tiny fingers. he clicks his tongue, crawling to your aid and he runs a hand up your arm, and you fucking shiver at it. your tail twirls ferally, and with the hand that isn't tied up in your cunt, you use it to slap it onto his arm and drag him towards you, piling him on top of you.

"tell me what i can do, babygirl. how long you been hurtin' for?" he whispers, and you can't even reply, only jutting your legs further apart.

jake is still unsure what to do, even though the solution is right there in front of him, right in between your glistening thighs. your smell is intoxicating him, telling him to just pick you up by your legs and fuck his cock into you so hard you see stars. "i want it," you rasp out, looking up at him with your big eyes that you know always gets him to give in and give you what you want. and right now, it's his cock.

"uh- for now, you can hop on my thigh. that sound good? yeah?" jake reasons, and you push out a reckless nod. he rolls you over with him, now laid out on his back and you practically pounce on his thigh, your gush of warm wetness immediately spreading along his skin. he bites back a groan.

you instantly start grinding your hips, letting your head fall back as your body sways, your pussy gliding along his thigh and rubbing at your puffy clit. fuck, if he wasn't hard before, he is now. hard as rock. watching his little princess ride his thigh like an animal, like a slut. it shakes him up in way more ways than one. the thick muscle of his thigh does absolute wonders for you, the amazing friction of your clit catching on the tough of his muscle making your eyes quite literally roll back.

"that's it, that's my girl. fuck yourself on me like that. using dad's big thigh for your pussy, hey? good fuckin' girl," he jumbles, sliding his hand on your hips, now helping you sharpen the desperate rocks of your body and you moan loudly.

your boobs bounce each time your hips roll, your hands trembling as they support your body on his chest and your fingernails digging into his blue skin. you're panting out heavy, quick breaths as you try and find words, "can... i..."

"hey, hey, 's 'right. use your words slowly for me." jake reassures smoothly, running a hand up your thigh and rubbing his thumb into your hot skin. "you close?"

"no," you hiss lowly through your gritted teeth. your words are filled with sobs, a sweet twist with desperation that has jake's dick twitching under his loincloth. "your cock."

"want my cock?" he asks, letting a dark and quiet chuckle slip past his lips, "don't know if you'll be able to ride that one, sweetheart."

"then fuck me with it," you manage to blow out, taking a hand and slipping it to palm his cock, tented up and ready for a pussy to plunge into. your pupils widen immensely, tail whipping up in excitement and your riding quickens, moving your cunt faster on his thigh. "please, daddy. pleasepleaseplease."

"might hurt a little. promise you won't cry?" jake coos, letting his finger trail up the smooth skin of your belly.

"promise," you rush, speeding onto your back and splaying out your body for him. funnily, your top is still strapped to your body. a bit disheveled, but it's still on. jake changes that though, as he yanks it off of your shoulders and flings it across the room. he then presses kiss to the middle of your shoulder, his hand shifting down to play with your pussy, striding a long finger up your slit and gathering some of your slick onto the pad. you whine at the much needed attention, finally getting a touch that is not your own, but your stepdad's.

he wastes no time in pushing a finger in, and then another. the girth of his digits stretch out your viscid walls, heighten your breath and make your pussy pulse in delighted appreciation.

"am i making you feel better, baby? feelin' good?" jake murmurs, and you can feel the side of cock rub up the inner of your left thigh. "think you're ready for dad's cock?"

"yes," you cry, your back arching off the ground as your mouth agapes.

"okay, okay," jake gives your cheek a messy smooch, untying his loincloth with ease and lining up the tip of his cock at your sopping opening. then he slides it in, pushing past your tight pussy and forcing the thick of his length inside of you. you let out a strangled mewl, your ankles kicking at the back of his legs and he catches the way your lips tremble. "ah-ah, baby— what'd i say about crying?"

"i'm not. i'm not crying, daddy." you beg with your voice meek, your cunt wrapping around him tight as if the body part itself did not want to let him go. milking his cock perfectly, he decides to start a slow rock of his hips, a soft pace of back and forth in your pussy. your legs are shaking as they shift to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer and encouraging him to push his cock further into your tummy.

"big ass bulge in your tummy from me. ouch, hey? that's daddy's cock in there, pushing your skin up like that." you're compelled to look at where your bodies meet, and you glare at the bump forming and deforming each time his cock glides into you, big and pointy and it only drives you faster to your release.

jake scoops an arm beneath you and around your back, using it to start bringing you down onto him, speeding up his thrusts little by little. a high moan breaks from your sore throat, hands shifting recklessly as you struggle to find a place to rest them.

"over my back, baby." he says, grabbing your arms himself and swinging them over the broad of his back. "there we are."

he leans down and seals your lips in a harsh kiss, tongue sponging out to dance along your hot one. it feels so wrong, so vivid and bad, that you can't help but let out a pathetic whine because of it because you love everything about it. jake fastens his pace, now rutting up into you hard and rough, moving your body with his as your loud noises muffle by the wrap of his aggressive tongue.

you're meeting his animalistic thrusts with your own, only they're more smaller and choppy because scrap before, you're getting fucked dumb now. your stepdad's cock driving in and out of your pussy so ruthlessly, you're going to see stars. literal stars.

"close?" jake mumbles against your mouth, his tone twinged with a sudden lick of his own desperation.

"mhm," you slur, gripping onto him as you attempt to have his cock impossibly hit deeper inside you.

“come all over daddy’s cock then,” he deepens the kiss, angling his head to the side slightly as a thick lock of his hair falls down in front of you. “wanna see my little girl come undone,” he pants.

that sets you off, has your orgasm exploding out of you and pussy gushing around jake’s dick. it shakes your entire body, smacking you with absolute bliss and all you can do is moan, feeling the tears rim your eyes. suddenly, jake is scooping out of you and groaning, dumping his load in his bunched up loincloth beside him.

you lay still beneath jake, panting like crazy and so is he, leaning an elbow on the ground as he attempts to catch his breath. eventually, he ends up collapsing to the ground, and he takes you with him. too fucked out to care, you slump your head against his chest. he tucks a lather of hair behind your ear, kissing the smooth skin between your shoulder and neck.

he doesn’t think it hurts anymore.

#jake sully smut #avatar the way of water #jake sully #jake sully x reader #dilf jake sully #jake sully imagine #james cameron avatar #avatar 2 jake sully #stepdad jake sully #jake sully x reader smut #so what im a sucker i gave in #yall already know i had to #STEPDADDY JAKE SULLY #jake sully oneshot #jake avatar smut #eat children EAT

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