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#although he does work for the devil…
haunteddisco · 2 years
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happy halloween!!!
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writingsfromspace · 1 year
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Starting to feel like I'm getting back into a writing rhythm (have written two out of the last three days)
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fleuraimer · 6 months
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hi girlies :)). i've got another breeding blurby to share, thank ms. bubbles @harrysonlylover.
wc: 1.6k
cw: talk of menstrual and ovulation cycle, smut, minors dni, 17+, breeding kink, and more. not proofread.
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Some people might say that the extent of his knowledge and control over Y/N’s life is not healthy. They might even suggest that his possessive behavior is a red flag, too. The constant messaging, always knowing her location, who she’s with, when she’s with them, why, how…
They didn’t tend to think of it that way. Love comes in all forms and theirs is… different.
Y/N likes being controlled. She wants him to know everything about her. She fucking craves the comfort of being taken care of for the price of absolutely nothing.
Well, maybe a few things.
Her obedience, for one, was expected (required). Her honesty, and loyalty. Her submission, too (although, sometimes, he liked to submit to her).
They’d found a simple way of living on some inherit, basic principles.
One, Y/N loved to be taken care of.
Two, he loved to take care of her.
So that was that. He was controlling, and she reveled in the power imbalance, and they didn’t care if others didn’t understand it, or like it, or even respect it. It was theirs, and it was enough.
It was fucking perfect.
One of the many ways he kept a tight leash on Y/N’s life was by tracking her menstrual cycle. He liked being ahead of the game—warm bath with waterlily scented suds ready for when she arrived home after her courses, her favorite sweet treats scattered across the kitchen island, Gilmore Girls queued up on his laptop, candles lit and heating pad at attention. Keeping track of her period meant knowing other things, intuitively, too. Like knowing that her cramps were worst on the first few days ( they were horrendous the last days too, though), that she’s more cuddly and soft than irritable or grumpy, that if she was too— no, severely stressed, overworking herself mentally, emotionally, and physically, she’d more likely than not work herself into a dreadful tizzy and end up intensifying (or even sometimes missing) her cycle.
Like now.
The poor thing, she was curled up in a frail little ball by end of the night every day this past week, deadlines looming over her head like a dark, rainy cloud as midterms approach. And, stubborn angel girl she is, she doesn’t bleat and moan about it to him. She doesn’t weep into his chest about how difficult this time is the way he encourages her to. She holds her chin high until the sun falls from the sky, her perseverance going with it, the stars and moon left to keep her and her misery company. And him, of course.
So, before the height of her period—when the red devil actually rears her ugly little head instead of inspiring trepidation of the inevitable with sore tits, an achy spine, and mental anguish—he thinks he’ll treat her a bit. And perhaps himself, as well (what? periods meant ovulating, and ovulating meant a lot of things).
———
Y/N’s head is quiet for the first time in days, and it’s all because of him.
As if anyone else could do what he does for her.
“Pretty girl,” he whispers in the place he’s nuzzled into her neck, littered with love bites and bruises. His cock is stuffed in her drippy pussy, stretching her deliciously over his thick, lengthy girth; his strong, beefy arms trapping her body to his like a vice.
Cowgirl usually makes Y/N’s thighs sore, but he’d taken the liberty of doing all the work tonight. He was in no mood for teasing, nor mocking or degrading. She wasn’t his whore tonight, just his girl. His soft, gorgeous, sensitive girl that deserved a sweet fucking after all the tears she’d choked down this week.
She needed a good cry.
“My little pillow princess, Yeah?” He mumbles, peaking up at her sluggish form. She’s slumped into him, head lain on his shoulder uselessly, hands gripping the tight Henley he’d neglected to rid himself of in the rush of their lustrous dance. She manages a nod, however, lazy and slow, but, somehow, still urgent. Frantic. In the glow of her eye, he can see, she adores that idea. “Yeah,” He nods, gripping the soft curve of her jaw to move her head with him, “My girl.”
She whimpers, but doesn’t speak. Too exhausted, too sedated. His cum is addicting, and if it were a drug, she’d inject it right into her veins (up her cunt).
Her arms wind around his neck, fingers spreading through the curly, sweaty tendrils of hair at the nape. Her nails tickle him, in the best way, only adding to the allure of her being. Of her mere presence.
Her hips swivel, rocking against his to create a mind-numbing sensation that has them both mewling. His cock stretches her out and fills her up completely, felt in the deepness of her tummy. Her lashes flutter when she feels him twitch inside of her, a sign that he’s close (she’d realize that she’s much closer if she had the brain capacity to think of anything other than him).
The thought—of his cum filling her to the point of spilling around their joined parts, a filthy mess between their legs—makes her dizzy. Eager. She’d been good, so good, this week, hadn’t she?
Fed herself, cleaned herself, went to class on time, even though school made her unpleasantly weak in the knees. She studied every day for at least three hours at the library, before trudging home with bleary eyes and a foggy head, only to do more studying.
She deserved a treat, right? A reward for staying in line, for not being bratty or whiny when he was busy and all she wanted was for her brain to shut off.
Now, with the opportunity before her (to go totally brain-dead, that is), she refuses to not seize the moment.
“Come,” she says suddenly, catching him mildly off guard.
Oh? She wanted to order him around?
“Please.”
Oh. Guess not.
“Please, please, come, Sir, I want it, so fucking bad,” she whines, mouthing at the chain sitting delicately across his neck. It’s nearly out of place; something so frail and pretty looks almost comical gracing his large, stocky figure. Perhaps that’s how those judgy people saw them, out of place.
She didn’t care though, she thought it looked nice on him. He made it look nice. Made it better, just like he makes everything better.
“Wan’ me t’a stuff you up, Babydoll?” he grunts, thankful that she’d somehow picked up on his primitive, feral need. Or maybe she just wanted it just as bad. “Fill you with my come and make you m’messy girl?”
“Yes, please,” she cries faintly, her lips brushing the shell of his ear, hiding her face in his neck as the tears finally start to flow.
How precious.
“Okay,” he sighs, his hands trailing from her hips to the plush, full of her ass. “I’ll fill y’up, Sugar.” He lifts her up, letting his cock slip from her fluttering hole to the tip— less than the tip. He smears himself onto her clit, making her jolt, and spanks her in reprimand. “Stay still for Daddy,” he scolds softly. “Lemme do my job.”
She cries pitifully when her thrusts back inside, hard. And he doesn’t lighten up. Not in the slightest. He pounds his cock into her small pussy, chasing his orgasm, trying to claim hers, bullying his way through her tight snatch to find them.
“Play with your pouty clit, Doll,” he offers. “Wan’ y’to come with me; cream my fat cock, Baby.”
Y/N does not need to be told twice.
One hand drops from the back of his head to toy with her swollen button, and it takes three weak twirls of her delicate fingers to get her there. He’s not far behind, nuzzling into her neck once more, mirroring her own position on top of him, groaning out profanities as his orgasm washes over him, from his head to the tips of his toes. He continues to drill his cock into her until his legs give out, trembling beneath her own.
They pant heavily, in unison, into each others necks as they start to come down.
He feels good, accomplished. He can feel that satisfaction rolling off of his girl in waves—felt it throughout their soft session—and it was more than enough to keep him happy. His orgasm was just a much appreciated bonus.
And Y/N… she feels great. Cunt clenching over his half-hard cock, full of him, literally, in every way she could be. Thoughts silenced and replaced with rose hued daydreams, floaty, fuzzy sensations that tingle through her entire body and make her slightly sluggish, slow. She feels fucking amazing.
“Hope it takes…” she admits softly, absently. The phrase slips off of her tongue without thought (we’ve established that their are none left in that subby head of hers), and her tone suggests she’s not expecting a reaction.
He gives her one, anyway.
“Say that again,” he demands, grip on her ass tightening, his voice grumbly, deep, shooting a shiver up her spine.
“Huh?”
“Tell Daddy what the fuck you just said, Babydoll.”
Her eyes round out even more, if possible, lips parted, gazing owlishly. Stupidly.
“Said, ‘I hope it takes,’ Daddy,” She whimpers quietly, squeezing around his, once again, stiff prick.
“Shit,” he hisses, eyes fluttering.
It’s like she wanted to stay locked on his cock all night.
…Oh well.
So be it.
“It’ll take, Sugar,” he says after a few moments of tense silence, shifting her up gently, manhandling her with a softness that makes her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. He presses a chaste kiss to her mouth, sweet. Contradictory.
“Daddy’ll make it take.”
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miirohs · 8 months
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he looks up, grinnin' like a devil [r.n.z]
pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x Fem!Reader wc: 0.5k cw: minor spoilers an: i feel like this man needs a fic from my bc he lives in my head rent free. anyways dont get mad at me if this isnt accurate lol i did everything based off the live action n i plan on reading the manga (eventually)
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"Zoro?" You huffed, laying still on the floor of the quarterdeck, eyes shut as you bathed in the sunlight.
There was no response and you frowned, calling again.
"Zoroooo."
A few beats of silence, followed by clunking on wood and and a grunt as shade was cast over your closed eyes. There was a thump and you grinned.
"What?"
You cracked open an eye lazily, staring at Zoros' face as he bent over you, watching you closely.
"Are you mad at me for yelling for you?" You muttered, head bumping against his leg, crossed under the other that his arm rested on.
"Maybe. I was trying to take a nap. Didn't work anyways. What are you doing up here?" You simply turned your head towards him, eyes flitting over his face for what seemed like the thousandth time.
No matter how many times you saw him, you could never seem to get over his profile.
"I was helping Sanji with the tangerines. He needed my help picking the fruit and watering the plants." You sighed, turning on your side.
He made a face, somewhere between disbelief and what looked like jealousy, but you couldn't tell. Not as the sun glared at you from behind him.
"He promised me food if i helped him," you protested at his look, rolling your eyes, "Don't look at me like that."
"How does that pertain to me? I never said anything." He shot back, failing to hide the flustered look at his eyes as he realized you'd caught him. "Zoroooo- you're making the face again," You giggled, rolling onto your stomach to stare at him.
He pretended to look confused, but you knew him like the back of your hand, thinly veiled distress underlying his features.
"Give it up Zo, you're jealous!" You teased, running a finger along the hemming of his pants. "Am not," he said plainly, averting your eyes.
"Am too-" You hummed.
"Am. not." He leaned down, baring his teeth slightly. His earrings jingled in the wind, gently swayed by the breeze.
Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed his face, fingers grazed barely by the golden earrings.
There were freckles littered all over his face, barely noticeable unless you looked close enough.
You hadn't realized they were there until after the fight with Mihawk, when you stayed at his side, leaning over him hoping he would wake up. They were like little mini constellations, a galaxy you could kiss, although you had never said that to his face.
"Have i ever told you how pretty you look?" You left kiss after kiss on his cheeks, skin burning despite how stoic he looked on the outside. "You've got a grin like the devil yet the aura of an angel."
"Shouldn't i be saying that to you?" He huffed, pulling you closer. He obviously didn't want to let you go.
"You should. I want to hear it more from you," you said, expectant for the tiniest bit more you could milk from this, "tell me how much you love me."
Zoro's gruff exterior softened slightly as he looked into your eyes, whispering under bated breath, "You're as beautiful as always, Y/n."
"Well, in that case," you said playfully, "you're incredibly handsome, Zoro. My one and only."
A rare smile played on his face, and you looked around quickly, leaning in to give him a soft kiss. The breeze seemed to pick up, salty sea air filling your lungs.
As you broke the kiss, you let out a laugh, "I think we both needed that."
Zoro nodded in agreement. "Yeah, maybe I'm a bit jealous, but I can't stand the thought of you spending too much time with that damn cook."
You chuckled, running your fingers through his green hair. "Don't worry, Roronoa. You're the only one I want."
He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you. "Good," he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. "Because you're the only one i need."
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olivyh · 1 year
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Does nobody in this house knock?
A/N: I've had this idea in mind for a while, and I've been on an Obey Me kick recently- I love these boys so much and they're so fun to write for (although consistently including six/seven people in one story is a bit of a challenge). This is supposed to be read as platonic but could go either way tbh. GN mc as always loves <3
Slight TW: For nudity (nothing serious really happens MC is just taking a bath and the brothers don't know what privacy is)
The House of Lamentation had its ups and downs- of course, the place was massive, which came with a plethora of spaces to crawl into if you wanted a moment of silence or needed a pretty room to study in. The kitchen was just as spacious- you were sure you couldn't use up all the counter space if you wanted to. The architecture was gorgeous and you could stare at the paintings that littered the halls all day (you wouldn't dare, though, after being told that some of them dislike the attention and could curse you if you stare for too long). Similarly, your room was one of your favorite spots in the house (along with Asmo's bathroom, which you were one of the lucky few to get the privilege of using when he wasn't having one of his frequent spa days. You also enjoyed wandering around the mansion (which, sadly, you were banned from doing after getting lost in one of the never-ending hallways and ending up deep underground, leading you to tearfully call Mammon and a house-wide scramble to find you before another one of Levi's rogue pets did). 
The downs were, naturally, the lack of private time. Despite how big the house was, everywhere you went one of the brothers seemed to conveniently be heading in that same direction or even already in that room. Did you want a snack in the kitchen? Beel was three steps ahead of you, and already inviting you out to Madam Screams after he cleans out the fridge. Need to study in the library? Satan just so happened to be going there as well (did he not have enough in his room? You thought almost bitterly at the loss of your time). Wanted to nap in the planetarium? You trip over a passed-out Belphie (why was he sleeping in the doorway?) and end up with a bloody nose from the impact. Wanted to sit in the common room? Levi was already there, playing Devil Cart on what looked like the Devildom's version of a switch with Mammon. If you wanted to study at the dining room table, Asmo would find you and all but drag you to his room for an impromptu game of dress-up. You'd thought going to the eldest would at least leave you alone, opting to study in his office until he'd corrected you on your posture and the way your shirt was hanging loosely off one shoulder more than the other every time, occasionally asking you questions relating to your work and not-so-subtly correcting every wrong answer you'd made (even if you never fully finished the problem). 
The brothers, however, knew that one time of the week was off limits- Saturday nights. You would often slip away and claim the shared bathroom for hours at a time, lighting candles and filling the bath until it was just high enough for you to soak up to your shoulders in. Of course, this was met with very little resistance (especially considering that all seven brothers somehow shared one bathroom with one toilet, which always baffled you. Though, you were certain that Lucifer had one of his own and was neglecting to let the others know). It never clashed with the nights Beel would come back from the gym in desperate need of a shower, or the nights Asmo would stumble back to the house covered in lipstick stains and reeking cheap perfume, or when Mammon would return covered head-to-toe in mud from walking Cerberus. You needed your time, you had told them. And they'd obliged. So, you'd set up a small routine to relax.  
Which was exactly what you were doing. You slip out of your silk robe (gifted by Asmo, naturally) and take a step onto the stool. The shared bathtub was absolutely massive, and you had to shyly ask Lucifer if he had a stool you could use just so you didn't have to climb into the damned thing the first week here. At a distance, it looked normal until... you stepped closer and realized that it wasn't. Although, you supposed it made sense considering how large the brothers were, especially Beel. It was hard picturing him fitting into a normal-sized tub, especially remembering that he struggled to submerge himself fully in the one they already had. Chuckling to yourself, you gingerly lowered yourself into the warm water with a sigh as you feel the pressures of the day melt away into the bubbly water.
The candlelight is the only thing illuminating the room, and the soft sounds of the water splashing against the side of the tub is nearly enough to lull you to a soft sleep if you'd decided to give in to the temptation. The brothers seem to be quieter than usual as well tonight, as you would normally hear some kind of yelling while bathed in the silence of the bathroom. You gently kick your feet in the water and watch as the ripple shines in the gentle candlelight. 
The water in the Devildom had shocked you with its opalescent gleam the first time you'd seen it, worried about drinking it. It had reminded you of the colorful outline left from oil slicks in puddles after it would rain. You were relieved to learn that it wasn't toxic, now basking in the slight glow that it gave your skin and the way it soothed any aches that you had. 
It was the perfect night, but you'd regretted not grabbing a snack to keep with you, or a glass of Demonus to drink while you soaked (even though you wouldn't get drunk and it tasted more like a spicy grape juice, you still felt fancy).
"Oh my stars, hon, you would never guess what happened!" You're shaken out of your thoughts as Asmo's shrill voice rings through the open doorway He makes his way over to the bath, pulling up the chair that sat in the corner of the room and you try to hide your growing annoyance. He leans over the edge of the tub, teasing his fingers in the water and playing with the bubbles. "So I was at the Fall, right-"
"Asmo," You say, a quiet warning. 
"And he really thought he could get away with trying to get between me and this other guy! Like, how dumb could you be? So anyways I turned to him and-"
"Asmo!" The demon pouts, folding his arms on the warm porcelain and resting his head on them, looking up at you through thick eyelashes. "I'm naked."
"I'm aware," He huffs, pursing his lips. "I've seen you bare before, love. Even if I hadn't, your body is not unappealing." He winks and you feel your face heat up. "So back to what I was saying-"
"MC!" Another shout and you groan, sinking deeper into the bath. "You're never gonna guess what I just did! I won the horse races! Highest bet, baby!" Mammon pumps his fist in the air as he beams, mussed hair likely from nervously running his hands through it. 
"You're interrupting my story, you ass!" Asmo shouts. 
"This is more important than your dumb story, drama queen!"
"Mammon!" You grumble. "Bathing?" He doesn't seem to hear you, though, as he continues to pace around the room, recalling every small detail about the race. His keychain clicks against the chains that loop from his belt, the clinking ringing through the room and grating on your nerves even more. Asmo continues to mindlessly play with the bubbles, even raising a soft hand to place a small crown of bubbles atop your head. You take it as a quiet apology from the demon. 
"I finally finished the book you'd asked me about-" Satan, as perceptive as he is, seems to understand your harsh glare from within the bath as he walks confidently through the open door (courtesy of Mammon and his excited forgetfulness). "And I'm aware that this is your time but I simply could not wait another moment-" He sits beside Asmo, nearly pushing the smaller man off the chair. The latter gasps dramatically, rounded lips forming a harsh 'o' shape as he holds his hand over his heart, offended as ever.
"Hey! I wasn't done yet!" Mammon huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at his younger brother. 
"You are now," He sneers before slipping open his book, reading through various notes and post-its he left buried within the pages. "Now, this scene in particular really stuck with me, and I'd very much like to hear your thoughts on it. It's when the protagonist-"
"Mc," Another quiet, almost apologetic voice from the doorway. Beel stands, nearly taking up the entire entrance, with armfuls of chips as he empties a bag into his mouth and tosses it into the trash near the sink. "I felt like you were hungry, so I got you something to eat," He holds out another bag and you take it, sighing as you fumble to open it and dig in. 
"Thanks, big guy," He hums before sitting cross-legged on the floor beside a still dejected Mammon, offering the older a bag as well. You don't have it in you to be annoyed at the gentle giant, and you were getting a little hungry, after all. 
"Anyways, back to my story-" Asmo begins, filling up the silence. 
"I didn't finish either," The second born growls through a mouthful of chips. 
"Finish eating, and Asmo, you were here first, you did your time and now it's my turn-" Satan shuts both of them down. 
"I wanna tell them about practice-" Beel interjects, moving on to another bag of chips. "I did a really cool move where-"
"Mc!" Another familiar voice joins the fray. "SoIwaswatchingthatshowyoutoldmeaboutandIthoughtitwasreallycoolandthere's-" Levi takes a gasping breath before continuing. "Areallyreallyreallycoolshowcaseonitinthehumanworldcomingupandweshoulddefinitelygo-"
"Levi, sweetheart, please breathe." You remind him, sinking deeper into the bath until it's just your eyes and nose peeking out from the surface of the water, glad that it muffles the sound a bit. 
"We should definitely go and wear matching costumes like the main characters and it'll be really cool and I already have an idea on how to make the props and it'll take a bit of time but we can definitely get it done in time and-"
"Ignore him," Satan sighs. "Anyways, I believe this scene is incredible I mean, did you see the wording in the second to last paragraph? It was so emotional I could hardly believe that he was faking it the whole time and-"
"My love, I never finished telling my story!" Asmo whines, pulling at your knee, which escaped from the water and is exposed to the chill of the air from when you sunk down further. "So then we ordered some Demonus, you know, as you do, and then this song starts playing and he comes back, so Solomon and I look at each other- you know that one look we share sometimes?- yes, that one, so we look at each other and then-"
"Hey, with all the money I just got, we should go shopping, yeah?" Somehow, Mammon had snuck around to the other side of the tub and started pacing on that side, grinning to himself. "I'll spoil ya rotten, I swear. Where do ya wanna hit first? We could go to Majolish, or we could hit that designer store up in the human world ya were tellin' me about-"
Beel continues to sit in silence, but his loud crunching is nearly deafening with all the noise the brothers are making, each of them unwilling to stop talking and wait their turn. 
"Mc-" A yawn. "Here you are-" Belphie stumbles, half-awake (and you weren't even sure of that, with how limbs moved ragdoll-like and the way his eyes were still closed.) "...was looking... everywhere..." He cuts himself with a snore before he falls forward and his stomach collides with the side of the tub, flipping over and landing in the water with you. 
"Belphie!" You shriek, fumbling to simultaneously get as far away from the still-sleeping demon as possible while trying to save him and while also trying to cover yourself from the eyes of the men in the room. 
"You're naked?!" Mammon screams, backing away until his back hits the wall. 
"HUH?!" You hear Levi wail before a thud sounds through the room and, if Satan's snort is any sign, you were sure he'd definitely just passed out and was lying unconscious on the cold tile of the bathroom. 
"Of course they're naked!" Asmo hums. "Who bathes with clothes on?"
"I don't care! Someone get Belphie out right fucking now!" You scramble up the side of the tub, feeling the rough fabric of his cardigan as he surfaces for air, still asleep as he hugs you as close to him as possible, burying his face- or what little you could see of it, with how his soaked hair conceals practically the entire thing- in the crook of your neck and wrapping his legs around your own (you grimace at the feeling of his wet sweatpants against you). Beel comes to your rescue as he attempts to pry his twin's arms off of you and apologizing every time his hands brush your exposed skin. Embarrassment heats your face as you try to squirm away, shouting at Mammon to grab you a towel as more and more water sloshes out of the tub, effectively soaking the pages of Satan's book and smearing some of Asmo's makeup. The former lets out an annoyed grumble as he curses the seventh for falling in and causing a scene in the first place while the latter gasps and rushes towards the mirror to assess the damages done, complaining about how perfectly his makeup was done today and now he was going to have to start all over-
Mammon rushes forward, towel in his extended arm as he slips on the spilled water with a yelp and sends himself flying into the tub as well, landing on top of Beel, who was still attempting to pry Belphie off of you. Beel, shocked by the impact, drops Belphie back onto you and is sent forward by Mammon's weight. Mammon follows close second, leaving you with three demons now in the tub as you try to shove all three off of you. It's difficult for them, as Beel is face-down in the water, his face wedged between your stomach and Belphies, with his legs bent awkwardly out of the tub and Mammon wedged between you and the wall, hands unable to find purchase as he's contorted and squished- not to mention that Belphie's legs had attempted to wrap tighter around your own and had successfully trapped Mammon's arm against your thigh and his face against the space between your shoulder blades, as well as further squishing his twin's face between the two of you. Both your hands are occupied with getting their heads out of the water so they could at least breathe, with two fistfuls of ginger locks and snow-white ones. 
"Everyone out, NOW!" Lucifer's voice rings from the doorway and the room is silent once more. The eldest grabs Beel's collar and pulls him out of the tub, with a grumbling Belphie following close behind (finally awake from the shouting). Mammon follows soon after, skirting out of the room without needing to be asked twice, not concerned in the slightest about how soaked his designer jacket was as you were sure he was going to explode from how red his face was. Asmo and Satan follow close behind, with the fourth-born grabbing a still-unconscious Levi by the ankle and dragging him out of the room. You sigh and sink into what little is left of the water, resting your head against the edge of the tub. 
"Thank you," You sigh. "That was a nightmare." 
"Of course," The firstborn stands still for a moment, clearing his throat. "While I am here, I recently received the scores from the exam that you had taken last week-"
"Lucifer," You glare at the man, eye twitching in annoyance. "Out."
He sighs, turning on his heel and striding out the door, closing it behind him with a click. Finally, in silence, you try to relax once more. 
The pounding of your heart doesn't allow it, though.
Neither do the bruises on your stomach from Beel's hard-as-a-rock forehead, or on your ribs from when Mammon had elbowed you in an attempt to flee, or the scratch on your back from when Beel had tried to separate Belphie from you only to find that the youngest was going to fight tooth and nail to continue your impromptu cuddle session and dug his bitten nails into your skin.
You laugh bitterly- something caught between an annoyed growl and a sob- and slam your fist uselessly against the porcelain. 
You were going to get them back for this.
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quintinh43 · 2 months
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Washing their back/hair in the shower.
oooo i could see luke loving his girlfriend washing his hair and she always does he curl routine for him
Toast my love 🥹 Thank you for requesting
-
The buzzer blared through the speakers of the TV, and you winced. The devils lost 5-4 in a shootout. Luke looked absolutely exhausted in his post game interview. It ticked you off a little that they made him do them so often. It's like they forgot he was a rookie sometimes.
Lukey The Loml: Be at urs in 20
You: Ok, drive safe love. See you in 20 ❤️
You paced around your apartment anxiously while you waited. You heard his footsteps in the hall, and before he even had a chance to stick his key in the lock, you were flinging the door open and holding your arms out to him.
Luke stepped over the threshold of the door, dropped his bag, and collapsed into your arms with a sigh. The height difference has him hunching over awkwardly for him to bury his face against your neck. His arms lock around your waist, and he sighs, melting further into the warmth of your body.
You card your fingers through his curls, fingers catching on all the knots from wearing his helmet for so long. You tug him further into your apartment, kicking the door shut as you go. He doesn't protest when you lead him to the bathroom and detangle him from your embrace to turn on the shower.
"You played so well, my darling boy," you say softly, helping him strip.
He gives you a tired smile, "Thanks, baby."
You make quick work of your own clothing and pull him into the shower. He groans, rolling his shoukders as the hot water hits his back. "Fuck I'm tired," he mutters attempting to run a hand through his hair. His fingers catch on the tangles, and he grunts frustratedly, yanking at his hair.
"Sit down, darling, I got you," you say, tugging his hand from his hair gently, and guiding him to sit on the shower seat, he does so without complaint, closing his eyes and ducking his head under the hot stream of water. He rests his hands on your hips, rubbing gentle circles with the pads of his thumbs.
You pop open the shampoo bottle, squirting some in your palms and lathering it up. The scent of coconut and vanilla melds with the steam, and your fingers delve into his curls once again, massaging at his scalp expertly. He melts against you with a happy sigh, his forehead resting against your torso.
Luke will never get tired of having you wash his hair, and honestly, you'll never get tired of washing it for him. Your fingers move in gentle cirlcles from the top of his head to his temples to the back of his neck. You detach the shower head and rinse the shampoo out of his hair before reaching for the conditioner.
You spread it all over your palms and drag your hands through the ends of his hair, working out all the knots with practiced ease. Luke had never been a post game ritual guy. As long as he had a shower, snack, and got to sleep, he was good. Until you came along, with your whirlwind of hair products and showed him the wonders of having his hair washed by another person.
Now, whenever he had the opportunity, he pulled you into the shower with him and made you wash and style his hair. You scrub him down gently and rinse out the conditioner. If he notices the floral scent of the body wash, rather than whatever the fuck Night panther smells like, he doesn't comment. Although you know he likes your bodywash better.
You hand Luke a towel and wrap one around yourself before padding to the bedroom and grabbing a change of clothes for the pair of you. Sweats and a hoodie for Luke, and one of his sweat shirts and shorts for yourself.
Luke takes the change of clothes from you and plants a kiss on your temples, "Thank you, baby."
As soon as the two of you are clothed, Luke is hoisting you onto the bathroom counter and standing between your legs patiently, his hands rest on your thighs, tracing shapes absent-mindedly. You lock your legs around his hips, ensuring he's as close as possible while you run product through his still wet hair.
Leave in conditioner, scrunch, then gel and scrunch again.
You twirl a couple of wonky looking curls around your finger to make them coil neatly. You twist around to wash the product off your hands and then pull him in for a sweet kiss. Luke kisses you back softly, cupping your face with so much care that it makes your heart gooey in your chest.
You pull away, panting softly as you rest your forehead against his. "Come on, i'll make you a snack and we'll cuddle on the couch and watch a movie. Ok?"
Luke can't resist pressing another kiss to your lips, hoping he can pour all the love he feels into it. "Thanks for making me feel better."
"It's nothing darling, that's what I'm here for," you shrug.
"I love you so much," he murmurs, pressing fluttering kisses to your cheeks, "more than I have words for,"
Your cheeks warm, and you smile shyly.
"I love you too, my darling, with my whole heart."
565 notes · View notes
bigfatbimbo · 3 months
Note
hai semi long time lurker first time asker
may i request a little luci drabble, perchance maybe him and reader out somewhere, and when he starts acting up (that man is a brat and ill die on this hill) reader has to pull him off to the side and...correct him, all while he whines about "i wasn't being that bad" and "please be nice to me" even tho he was being that bad and he does not deserve kindness 😞🙏🏽
ANYWAY EVEN IF U WRITE THIS OR NOT I LOVE UR WORKS SM I CLAW AT THE WALLS WAITING 4 UR POSTS UR SO TALENTED N I ASPIRE TO BE YOU
idk if this one has been used but
-⛈️
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a/n — Lucifer content I love you so much. Anyways I love brat Lucifer reuther’s thank you.
summary — After a particularly bratty attitude from Lucifer in public, you pull him off to the side and reach him a lesson on manners.
warnings — semi-public sex, sub Lucifer, dom reader, hand jobs, degradation
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It hadn’t been a big deal, really. But god, did it piss you off. Lucifer, who was probably one of the most insecure men you’ve ever been with, acted so oddly high and mighty around his citizens.
Which would have been understandable, he was the king of hell, after all. However, sometimes his uppity attitude got to you. 
Like right now. One friendly looking sinner had simply approached you two at a restaurant. They weren’t threatening, nor did they try to steal anything as you were watching their hands the whole time.
However, despite the rare friendly attitude from the demon, you saw something strange in your boyfriend. He was rude, and no, he probably didn’t realize he was, but that didn’t change the fact he was not kind to the demon at all. 
For a moment, all the stranger got was a blank stare. One that lasted far too long, and in the end, felt pretentious and almost accusing. The stare felt so rude, it struck you to your core.
Afterwards, instead of a smile, which you had to admit was attempted, he simply sneered and looked side to side uncomfortably. When the demon asked for an autograph, he cleared his throat and muttered something about how he ‘doesn’t understand who would want an autograph from the devil, but alright.’ 
His tone was playful, but had an undertone of all knowing prestige that irked you. It made him seem like a pompous rich brat, you didn’t like that. 
Finally, the sinner shook his hand, thanked him and left. The worst part was the aftermath.
Lucifer wiped his hand off, wiped his hand off, on the nearest napkin and turned to you with an awkward smile, “Can you believe that? Weirdo, amiright? Should probably check my pockets for my wallet!” 
Although Lucifer laughed, it faded quickly after he noticed how you were not laughing. 
“…uh, something wrong, dear?” he asked hesitantly, already growing nervous at your less than positive response to his ‘joke.’ 
You stare at him for another moment before breathing, “Bathroom, now.”
Less than gently, you pull him by his arm to the bathroom, receiving a few stares from other people on the area. Luckily, the restaurant was crowded. And besides, the loud background noise would come in handy soon.
Tugging him into an empty restroom, you begin to scold him, “Do you even know how much of a dick you just acted like?”
“What?” Lucifer seemed extremely perplexed at your accusation.
“The way you treated that sinner?” You hiss, backing him into a wall, staring down at him with angry dissatisfaction.
“Oh come on,” he crossed his arms and glared up at you, “Those people are just the worst. I was being nice!”
Your knee slipped in-between his legs subtly so he didn’t notice at first. “You were being a pompous brat,” you not-so-subtly use your hand to pin him closer to the wall, completely pressed up against you.
Lucifer stared up at you and gulped, awaiting your next move.
“And you know what happens to brat,” you hiss in a whisper, “They get punished.”
You weren’t sure what was making your usually obedient Lucifer act out tonight, but whatever it was, he doubled down.
“It really wasn’t that bad,” he whispered. 
“Excuse me?”
“I said,” his irritation was apparent, “you’re overreacting— fuck!”
You palm his dick through his pants and Lucifer moans loudly. Although, he remembers his environment and shuts himself up by biting his lip and glaring up at you.
With a knowing smile, you tug his pants and boxers down, eyes meeting his as you pull his cock out.
“Oh, you piece of shit,” he groans quietly as his eyes dart to the side, blush rising in his cheeks.
“Uh-huh, keep talking. See where it gets you,” you condescend, beginning to stroke his dick at an agonizingly slow pace.
His hand shoots up to cover his mouth as he lets out a gravely whimper. 
“Remember where you are Lucifer. It’s rude to cause a scene,” you smirk as your hand speeds up, “but you wouldn’t know that.”
“Oh god—“ his moan is muffled as he stares at you through furious half lidded eyes, “Oh, fuck you.”
Your hand shoot straight to the base of his cock and back, and you tut softly, “Someone has an attitude problem tonight. I outta teach you some manners.”
He whines, shaking his head vigorously as his other hand comes up to press down on his mouth as well.
The circumstances were more than upsetting, he couldn’t be loud, others might hear. But doing this was a risk in itself. You weren’t even in a stall. If anyone walked in on you two he would have to look at their shocked expression.
He let out a choked moan at the thought, “Be nice to me, please I didn’t—“
Your hand speeds up once more, “Oh? Because just a second ago you were calling me a piece of shit.”
He whines, clearly frustrated at the whole situation. Your movements are aggressive and your words are condescending. Oh, how he hated when you were mad at him.
But your actions irritated him slightly. Had he really been that bad? In his eyes, he still wasn’t convinced.
The way your hand moved, though, was clogging up his thoughts, making it harder to be upset. Still, he clung onto coherence.
“You’re so— fuck. You’re so mean,” he whined into his hands, looking up at you with much less malice than before.
“And you’re a pretentious brat,” You remark, feeling precum leak onto your hand, “So I guess we’re both in moods tonight.”
He moaned loudly, leaned further up against the wall and squirming desperately, still being pinned down by your free arm.
“I’m sorry,” he whimpered as he felt his climax building, “I’m sorry, fuck. Can I please cum now?”
“Shush, Lucifer,” you make an obvious movement of glancing around, “You forget yourself. Wouldn’t want anyone hearing how much of a slut you are.”
Tears pricked the corner of his eyes as he fought to contain himself. It was agonizing how much he was holding back right now. From cumming, from being loud, and at the same time trying to remain in a somewhat coherent headspace. 
“Please,” he pleaded in a whisper as he attempted to stop the single tear from coming down his face. 
You considered for a long time. You were in a crowded restaurant and you hadn’t even gotten your food yet. For a moment, you thought you were going to say yes. 
Instead a smile formed on your lips and you yanked your hand away. Lucifer whined terribly as another tear slipped down his porcelain skin.
“Pull your pants up, our food might be here,” you wash your hand off and begin to walk out of the bathroom.
Lucifer just started at you, mouth agape at your cruel plan. He was going to have to sit through dinner needy and hard, and still have to face a punishment when you both arrived home.
“Come on, Luci,” you tease, “It’s rude to stare.”
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a/n — Wow gang! It sure is lucky that no one in that super packed restaurant had to go to the bathroom.
719 notes · View notes
macfrog · 10 months
Text
ride it, cowgirl cowboy like me chapter ten
hey dudes. anyone up for some dbf? i seriously can't thank you guys enough for all the love y'all show this series. blows my mind every time. i have been super excited for this chapter for a WHILE. might be my fave so far. who knows. you can grab chapters 1-9 on my masterlist and also my ao3 if ur feeling fancy. love u all sm!!!!!! ✨💘💫
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pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader
summary: joel picks you up from a girls’ night. you’ve plans for when you get home
warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) reader isn't an astrology girlie (sorry), more pining beCAUSE, alcohol consumption + a mention of the devil’s lettuce, very quick bit of unwanted touching, even quicker bit of protective joel, soft!joel, softdom!joel, one tiny mention of daddy, protected piv sex this time (feeling conservative slutty max will return), reader rides him into the sunset, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing
word count: 6.7k
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist
You lazily drag yourself over and over Joel’s dick, each stroke drawing you nearer and nearer to your high. When your body starts to falter, you feel him shift, and open your eyes to see him leaning over to the nightstand. His fingers grip the rim of the black cowgirl hat you’d worn that night. He lies back, flat against the mattress, and reaches up, placing the hat on top of your head. You smile. Joel speaks in a low, gentle, but commanding whisper. “There you go, cowgirl. Show me how it’s done.”
You never believed much in the power of the universe. Astrology, moons, manifestation. Whatever. None of it ever really meant much to you. You knew your star sign, knew which cool little symbol resembled you, and that was about it. Everything past that was…confusing and, frankly, a little overwhelming.
However.
If the universe were to send you a sign, one huge, fluorescent, multi-colored, in-your-face sign, that it was on your side…this weekend might just be it.
Your dad’s downstairs, finishing up packing for his work trip. His departure is imminent. Sarah’s been in Nashville since last night. A series of texts she sent you at 3AM riddled with spelling errors and heart emojis tell you she’s been having a pretty good time so far.
You are Joel are…alone. All by yourselves. For a whole…twenty hours.
Can’t have it all, I guess.
Your eyes skim down the texts you sent him this morning, texts he is yet to reply to.
You: Merry Christmas!!!
You took his non-reply for confusion – he is almost fifty, maybe he doesn’t get the joke? It’s a pretty lame joke, anyways. Very lame. If your thumb hovers over the send button before you press it, it’s probably not that great a joke. And your thumb had most definitely hovered. So, you’d followed it up.
You: As in, today’s the day
You: I don’t mean it’s actually Christmas
You: I mean like, happy ‘we’re finally gonna be alone again’ day
You: Never mind
“Hello?” Anna’s voice cuts through your train of thought. “Are you even listening to me?”
You drop your phone, shaking your head clear of Joel. “Yep. Sorry. Just didn’t catch that last part. You froze.”
The image of her on your – pretty fucking dusty – laptop screen rolls its eyes, knowing you’re lying. “I don’t know whether to go with the pink or the black boots,” she says.
“Ain’t your dress yellow?”
Her head falls into her hands. She throws herself down onto her bed and slides her laptop closer. “That was, like, ten minutes ago. I’m goin’ with the pink strappy one now.”
“Pink does say rodeo.”
“Fuck you,” she snaps through a giggle. “Remind me what you’re wearin’, again.”
“Black hat, black boots, black dress.”
“You’re so boring.”
“Thanks. Really looking forward to our night out.”
Anna snorts and then stands back up, strides over to her closet and resumes rummaging. “Black jacket, too?” she calls over her shoulder.
“Uhuh,” you reply, glancing back down to your phone. “Although – it has rhinestones. And tassels. Not so boring after all, huh?”
Anna’s silence drags your eyes from the text thread back to your laptop screen. She’s frozen in place, twisted around with a dress in her hands, jaw on the floor. “Show it to me. Now.”
“Hold on,” you roll over and off your bed, your shoulder stiff from the position you’d been lying in, “I think I left it downstairs.”
“Tell your dad I say hey!”
You pad down the carpeted stairs in your socks, toward the sunlit hallway.
“Dad, have you seen my– Oh, fuck.”
As you round the corner at the bottom of the stairs, glancing over your left shoulder to the front door, your chest knocks into something hard. Steady. Strong.
Something you recognize the feel of before you’ve given him a proper look.
“Mind your step, baby,” Joel says, and your heart leaps.
“What the fuck are you doin’ here?” you whisper, peering around his body to look for your dad.
“He’s out front,” Joel tells you, then takes your shoulder and reels you in against his chest. “’m just here to help ‘im with his GPS.”
He plants a kiss on the top of your head and gives you a squeeze. Your head rests safely on his chest, arms link at his back. If you didn’t have plans tonight, and if your dad wasn’t, like, ten feet from you guys right now, you’d never let him go. Just follow him around, vice grip around his waist, surrounded by the smell and feel of him.
Not that that means anything. You’d do other stuff, too. You’re not…you know.
Your dad’s voice streams in through the open door and Joel releases you.
“It ain’t for workin’, Joel, I’m about to throw it at the f– Hey, kiddo.”
“Hey. What’s the matter with your GPS?”
You lean in to the tiny device in his hands. Joel’s elbow comes up to rest on your shoulder.
“Just won’t connect to the car. Every time I plug it in, it just…” He lifts his hands, screen loose in his fingers, and hands you a bewildered look.
You look at him, expressionless. “Why don’t you just use your phone?”
“Because I paid almost a hundred bucks for this thing, and I’ll be damned if I’m– Alright,” he stops himself, eyes shutting in exasperation, “I already explained this to him. I ain’t justifyin’ myself to the two of you.”
Joel’s laughing behind his hand, pretending to scratch his nose when your dad stalks off to the kitchen and throws the device down, snatching the instructions off the table.
The pair of you follow, both still trying to swallow your laughter. Joel wanders around the table and sits down beside your dad, fumbling with the screen. You dive into the coat closet at the bottom of the stairs and fish out your bejeweled, tasseled jacket.
“You lookin’ forward to your girls’ night?” Joel asks, eyes flitting up and down the leather jacket in your hands.
“Mhm,” you reply, opening your mouth to continue when your dad butts in.
“S’posed to be a girls’ night, but that boy Sam’s crashin’ it, ain’t he?”
“Well, we asked him.” You shrug. “It’s his night off.”
Your dad scoffs, shaking his head to Joel, who looks up to you with a confused expression. “’s the big deal with that?”
“Oh, wise up, Miller. He’s only goin’ ‘cause of…” He wags a finger in your direction, and a smirk peels across Joel’s lips.
“Is he, now?”
“Uhuh,” your dad replies, intense stare still on the instructions in front of him. “Makes no damn sense. I plugged it in using the cable they gave me in the box. Stupid thing…”
You shake your head to Joel, who’s still looking at you, bemused. He knows you and Sam are just friends. Also knows your dad is the most oblivious theorist to walk the planet. Just aiming his gun at the wrong target, is all.
“I’m gonna let you two get back to…that,” you say, turning to head back upstairs. “Anna says hi, by the way.”
Your dad’s eyebrows rise once, his eyes never lifting from his GPS. “Hi, Anna.”
“Hey, Anna,” Joel echoes, smirk on his lips.
“Not to you,” you throw back, hopping up the first step. You hear his chuckle as you disappear.
----------
Anna’s reaction to your jacket in person matches that over Facetime: a deafening squeal. A squeal which she repeats almost every damn time she sees you throughout the night.
“So – fucking – cute!” she exclaims for the fifth time, fingers dancing through the tassels. “And it goes so well with your hat.”
You sip on your cocktail, nodding enthusiastically, pushing your eyebrows up underneath the brim of the black cowgirl hat on your head. Trying to match her energy. Your mind’s elsewhere.
Joel texted you a few hours ago. Told you to have a good night, said something about Sam, but you were stood right next to the dude, so you quickly locked your phone and slipped it back into your clutch.
Now, standing with your back against the wall of Franks, watching Sam play pool with Eve, you feel safe enough to read over the message.
Joel: Have fun baby. Be safe. Tell Sam good luck from me.
You squint at the screen, pulling it away from your face and leaning back in to read it over. Good luck? The fuck does he mean –
You: Good luck??
He replies almost instantly.
Joel: Yeah. Good luck winning you over. Took me, what, a week?
Oh, fuck off. You roll your eyes and throw your phone facedown onto the table where Anna and Kara sit, about twenty minutes deep into a conversation you missed the beginning of.
Your attention turns to the room before you – brick-walled, metal dome lightshades hanging over each pool table. Glass-paneled door to your left leading back through to the main bar. For being a tiny bar on a backstreet, Frank’s is pretty lively. There are bodies everywhere, bumping by each other, drunken arms slung over shoulders, hips swaying with the soft rock song blasting from out front.
You imagine your dad here with Joel, maybe Hank and Bill, too. Playing pool, beer bottles resting on the felt while they take their shot. Or sat on the rooftop, sipping on a whiskey. Talking about you and Sarah. What does Joel say about you when you’re not around?
And what does he want to say, but can’t, ‘cause it’s your dad? What does he think, and bite back when it bubbles to the surface?
Your straw gargles, slurping up the last few sips of your drink. You lean over to Anna and Kara, holding your empty glass up.
“Another?”
They both shake their heads, and you nod, turning on your own back to the bar.
You squeeze between two older women, both dressed smart and sharp. One of them – clutching a Manhattan – shifts out of the way as you pass.
“…one more conversation with him about squash,” she tells her companion, “and I am gonna blow my brains out…”
You edge over to the bar and slot into a free space, propping your elbows up on the wood. One of Sam’s coworkers – her name escapes you – notices you and shuffles over, smiling sweetly.
“How you doin’?” she asks, running a damp cloth inside a tumbler.
“Good,” you reply. “Could I just get a Bud, please?”
“Sure thing,” she says, and reaches behind to grab one. You slide her a note and she hands you change, and then you’re on your way back to the pool room.
As you slink by the two women, a weight knocks into your shoulder, almost sending your beer flying out of your hand.
“Sorry,” a rough voice sputters on your left, and you glance in its direction. Some broad dude in a tight t-shirt.
“’s fine,” you mumble, clutching your hat; a smell of weed choking your throat.
He passes by behind you, one hand lingering a little too long on your waist, and you saunter back over to Anna and Kara.
“That dude stinks, right?” Anna whispers behind a cupped hand, and you snort.
“He smells like he’s having a good night.”
“We’re talking about Romeo and Juliet over there. We’re basically third, fourth, and fifth wheeling,” Kara says, nodding over to Sam and Eve, who’re finished their game of pool and have now graduated to darts.
“I don’t…think that’s a thing.”
“Eve asked me if Sam was single earlier,” Anna says, lifting her straw to her red lips.
“What?” Kara spits out, choking on her drink. “Eve has a boyfriend!”
Anna giggles. “He’s kinda an ass, anyway. Look at them, they’re so sweet.”
“You say sweet, I hear morally wrong.”
“Who says it’s morally wrong?” you chirp, alcohol pushing the words over your lips before your brain’s had time to stop them. Your fingers clutch your phone, still laying on the table where you left it. “You?”
“Uh, it’s cheating, dude. What if Nick found out?”
“’s not that big a deal,” you reply, phone screen lighting your face in a blue hue, “they’re just having fun.”
Anna points to you, lifting her glass. “Here’s to havin’ fun, I guess.”
Kara lifts her own reluctantly and they clink, but you’re distracted. Already typing a message to Joel. Bored. Drunk. Morally wrong.
You: What you doing?
Joel: Watching TV. What you doing?
You: What ya watvhin ?
Joel: None of your business. Go get another drink. Looks like you’re not drunk enough.
You lift your head with a giggle, almost ready to turn your phone around to Anna and Kara and say, look what the dude I’m sleeping with just text me. And then, thankfully, your good sense kicks in and you bring the screen closer to your chest.
You: Kinda bored. Wanna come home now please
Bored, horny. It all means the same.
Joel says he’ll be at Frank’s in twenty minutes. You rest your chin on your palm and watch as Sam cheers Eve for hitting bullseye.
“I think they’re cute,” you whisper.
Anna and Kara are already preoccupied, taking photos of one another across the table. Kara leans into you and you smile, flash blinding your hazy eyes for a few minutes afterward. A few more pictures, couple boomerangs of your glasses cheersing, and then your phone’s vibrating.
Joel: Outside. No rush.
That last part is where he’s wrong. There most definitely is a rush, and it’s in the form of the heat that starts to pool between your legs.
“Alright,” you shimmy off your barstool and stretch your back. “My ride’s here.”
“What?” Anna almost screams, her hand slapping down on the table. “You’re leavin’?”
You nod. “Sorry, babe.”
“Don’t babe me, traitor. It’s, like, midnight.”
“Uh, it’s, like, almost 2AM. I’m tired. I don’t know how y’all do it.”
She sighs, conceding, and agrees to walk with you to the front door. Kara and Eve stop off by the bar to grab another drink. Sam holds the door open for you and Anna and you’re hit by a wave of cold night air, instantly cooling your hot, sweaty skin.
“Is that…Mr. Miller?” Anna asks, mouth falling wide open.
You glance down the street and notice his black truck, parked up by the curb. “Mhm,” you reply, “my dad’s out of town, so he’s picking me up.”
“Can he take me home, too?”
Sam snickers. “Wow, Anna. That’s just…Wow.”
She shrugs, lips closing around her straw as she stares at Joel’s truck. Something inside you lurches at the idea of Joel sitting there, his eyes glued on you, watching everything you do, everyone around you. And then again at the thought of Anna and her doting gaze on him.
“Alright, I guess that’s my cue to skip.”
Anna pouts. “One more drink?”
“I’m good, thanks,” you scoff, patting her head affectionately. I got business to attend to.
You give her a quick kiss on the cheek and Sam wraps an arm around your shoulder, giving it a squeeze before you’re wandering off toward Joel’s truck.
“Hey.” Something – someone – hooks around your elbow, and you turn back. It’s that same guy who stank of weed.
“Hi,” you reply, as sweet as you can, but trying to loosen his grip.
“Saw you inside, you out with friends?”
“Mhm. I’m just leavin’, my–”
“Few of us are headed upstairs. You wanna come?”
You glare at him a few seconds, before yanking your arm from his grasp. “Nah, no thanks. I’m leaving. Have a good night.”
You stagger off, feeling his eyes on you as you go. Joel’s truck headlights switch on, dazzling your eyes, and you quickly click around to the passenger side, throwing yourself in beside him.
Joel doesn’t say hey, doesn’t squeeze your thigh, doesn’t even look at you when you settle into the seat. Just asks –
“Who’s that kid?”
“Uh…not sure. Bumped into ‘im in the bar.”
“He give you trouble?”
“No,” you lean over the console, pulling your seatbelt over your body, and flash him a tipsy grin, “thought that was my job. Givin’ trouble.”
Joel doesn’t reply. Doesn’t take his scowl off the dude outside Frank’s, either. Your eyes meander across to his hand, locked in a tight fist around the wheel. Your smile drops.
“Joel. It’s fine. Can we go?”
When you lift a hand to the crook of his elbow and he feels your warmth on his skin, he tears his gaze away and it lands on you. Soft, gentle. His lip isn’t curled anymore. His brows lift.
His eyes watch your lips as you whisper the words to him.
“Want you to take me home.”
“’s go, pretty girl.”
----------
Joel refuses, no matter how many times you ask, how hard you bat your eyelashes, how many promises you make, to stop by a drive thru.
“Please?” you ask one last time before he’s pulling in to his neighborhood.
He shakes his head. “Look at that, we’re already home.”
“I ain’t takin’ no for an answer, Miller, not until the engine’s off. We’re still driving.”
He doesn’t reply. Just pulls up in his drive, cuts the engine, and looks at you. Shrugs. “Oops.”
“Fuck you,” you groan, sliding down in your seat. “I’m starvin’.”
“Make you a big breakfast in the mornin’, how’s that sound?”
“Wanted a Big Mac, but whatever.”
Your fingers fumble for the door handle, clicking it open. You roll out of the truck and stroll around to meet Joel at the driver’s side. He snakes an arm around your shoulders, steadying you as you walk up his porch steps and into the house.
“I’m fine,” you murmur, glancing around his living room.
“Alright,” he says, tossing his keys and kicking his boots off.
Your eyes settle on the TV screen, paused. Probably around the time you text him. There’s a crowded hospital room onscreen, doctors in dark blue scrubs, all surrounding someone lying on a bed, someone who looks pretty familiar…
“Is that…fuckin’…Grey’s Anatomy…?”
Joel chuckles, peeling your jacket from your shoulders.
“That’s Meredith! When she–”
“She fell in the damn river,” Joel mutters, placing the tasseled leather over the back of his couch. “Derek had to go in after her. Intense stuff.”
“Right? I told you it was good!” You smack his arm. “I can’t believe you’re watchin’ it without me.”
“I ain’t watchin’ it,” he protests, “it was just on, ‘n I needed something to keep me awake. I’m still rooting for Meredith ‘n George.”
“We can watch it from the beginning.”
“Yeah?”
You nod, moving over to him. “And then I can be over here all the time, and you can make me all the grilled cheese I want, and we can lie in bed and…do stuff.” Your chin rests on his chest, flashing him a toothy grin. Hands swinging in his at your side.
Joel’s eyes narrow, but there’s a smirk on his lips. “You’re drunk.”
“I’m not drunk. I had a couple drinks. I’m not drunk.”
“H’many fingers am I holdin’ up?” Joel asks, raising his fist. You punch it away.
“Ha-ha,” you say tonelessly, and wander away from him.
“Baby,” he calls you from behind. Sure, you’re tipsy, and he can be a cocky asshole – especially when he has to take care of you, but that’s a sound you’ll never get tired of hearing. Baby. You’re his darlin’, his sweet girl.
You spin around, very nearly losing your footing, and he’s standing with an arm out, ready for you to take.
You smile dumbly. Meander over, and take his strong hand in both of yours, wrapping your fingers around two of his to let him reel you in against his body.
“C’mon,” he whispers, as you lean against his frame. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
You follow him up, knowing where he’s leading you. You’ve spent more time in there the last few weeks than you have your entire life.
His room is cool, not cold, but comfortable. It’s Joel all over; the muted colors, the décor, the smell that calms you as soon as you stumble over the threshold.
He sits you down on the edge of his bed and kneels, pulling your boots off one by one.
You giggle.
“You laughin’ at me?”
“You’re like my own personal tr…No, not trainer. Wait. Personal ch–”
“Chef?” he says, snorting. “Not chef. Try again, soberhead.”
“Oh, I dunno.” You throw your arms up as he sits your boots against the wall, then stands and takes your hat off.
“This,” he says, placing it on the nightstand at your side of the bed, “is very cute. I like it.”
“I’m cute, too, y’know,” you whisper, pouting.
He smiles, and leans down to give you a quick kiss on the lips, pointer finger under your chin.
“The cutest.”
“Ha!” you roar. Joel twists around you to undo the zipper at the back of your dress. “Joel Miller thinks I’m the cutest. Take that, Anna…”
He laughs. When he unzips you, he pulls the dress off your bare chest and down your legs. You don’t shy away, used to the idea now of him seeing you naked. Used to the idea of him seeing you in any vulnerable state; drunk, or naked, or in a sobbing mess on day two of your period.
You notice, even though you’re a tad dizzy with what alcohol is left in your system, that his eyes linger on your panties a moment before he turns and grabs a tee from a chair.
And something inside you ticks.
“Joel?”
He’s pulling the shirt over your head. It smells like him. Intoxicates you much more and much quicker than any drink you could order from Frank’s.
“Mhm?”
You feed both arms through the sleeves, swallowing the question you were about to ask. He’s standing up now, telling you to get into bed.
He walks over to his dresser and begins removing his own clothing. He only sleeps in boxershorts. Your eyes track him as he yanks his t-shirt up over his toned shoulders; fingers undo his belt, unzip his jeans. Everything is discarded to the side for now; he has something more pressing to attend to.
His best friend’s daughter, laying in his bed, a pool of wet forming in her panties.
He just doesn’t know it yet.
As he slips under the covers beside you, you pull off your underwear in one quick movement. Joel doesn’t seem to notice, or so you think; his arms immediately take hold of your waist and pull you against his body. You’ve gotten into the habit of sleeping pressed against his torso, his thigh between your legs. Joel settles comfortably with you draped over him, and lets out a deep sigh.
“Joel?” you whisper again into the darkness, growing braver.
“Hm?” he replies, starting to fall asleep.
You toss ideas over in your head. None of them good, you’re sure, but you’re getting desperate. How he can’t feel your damp core on his thigh, you’ve no idea.
But then, maybe he can? Joel doesn’t miss anything, especially not where you and your…arrangement are concerned. Can he feel you? Is he deliberately ignoring it?
Maybe he has something up his own sleeve?
“I…was just wondering…”
“Wondering what, darlin’?” His voice is muffled, spoken through unmoving lips. You glance up at his face. His eyes are closed.
You grow more desperate.
“…wondering what your body count is?”
You ask it as innocently as you can, your voice wavering on the words body count. It gets him, though, as his eyes blink open a few seconds after you say it.
“I ain’t tellin’ you that. Go to sleep.” He closes them again.
“I wanna know.”
He ignores you.
“Joel,” you moan.
He calls you by name now, and you’re not sure if you’re pissing him off or turning him on – or both.
“Go. To. Sleep.”
“I’m not tired, though. Not yet.”
In response, Joel lets go of his hold on you and rolls over without another word. It’d sting if you weren’t soaking wet right now, and didn’t have a strong hunch he was hardening under the sheets.
“Joooel…” you whine, sitting up on your elbow. No use.
You take hold of his shoulder and tug him back toward you, rolling him onto his back. Like a deadweight, he remains frozen.
“Ugh,” you groan, and drag yourself on top of him, knees either side of his waist, ass hovering. When you sit back onto him, your core lining up with his crotch, your suspicions are proven right.
He’s hard.
Not as hard as he can get, as you’d like him to be, as you’ve felt him before…but he’s hard.
“Joel…” you mewl into the darkness, starting to grind your bare center over his boxers. The friction feels good, so you apply more pressure.
“If you don’t stop that,” Joel’s voice finally grumbles, “I’ll be sleepin’ downstairs.”
“Sex in the living room sounds good to me.”
His eyes open. “We,” one hand comes up to point between the both of you, as if he doesn’t expect your sobering self to understand which pairing he means, “are not having sex. No sex tonight.”
You sigh, shoulders dropping dramatically.
“Huff all you want, baby, it is not happening.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because you’re a few drinks too deep and it’s three in the morning. I’m tired, it’s been a long night waitin’ for you, I–”
“So let me make it up to you. I ain’t even drunk anymore.”
“No?”
“Nuh-uh. Could count any number a’ fingers you put in front of me.”
“Funny.” He closes his eyes.
“Joel.” You drag your hips again. If anything, he’s harder than he was when you first sat down on him. “I had a few drinks, I’ve sobered up. C’mon…”
You bend your waist and lower yourself to align your lips with the side of his head, peppering the skin under his ear with soft kisses.
“I wanna ride you, daddy.”
This gets him. His eyes open again, staring up at the ceiling. His hands slowly come up to rest on your hips.
“Don’t– That’s low, even for you, kid.”
You giggle and straighten up. When your hands lightly trace down his chest, onto his midriff and follow the trail of hair to his boxers, he doesn’t stop you. Just watches from beneath hooded lids, tensing at each point your fingers touch.
You raise your eyebrows, watching his expression for any sign to stop, and it never comes. He remains in place when your fingertips hook around the waistband of his underwear, slowly pulling down.
Joel breathes in deep when you reveal the tip of his cock, springing up to rest on his lower stomach. You feel your core clench. If he’s not inside you in the next five minutes, you might scream.
Well, you’ll be screaming either way.
You look back into his eyes and tilt your jaw, asking for permission.
“Go on,” he whispers.
Your hands take him eagerly, pumping up and down his shaft, and his head falls back onto the pillow with pleasure.
“Uhuh,” you mumble, focusing on his solid dick, but desperate for more. You give him a gentle squeeze and a groan passes his lips, his grip tightening on your body.
You let go of him and grind your hips along his length, folds coating his shaft in your wetness. Joel’s humming, watching as you pull yourself up and down him.
Then, you lean forward, and your hands take hold of him again. You give him a couple more strokes, eliciting a deep groan, and then line his bare cock up at your entrance, practically foaming at the mouth to sink down on him already.
“Woah, woah,” Joel takes hold of your wrist, “slow down, cowgirl. I gotta get a condom.”
You huff as he leans over to his nightstand and opens the drawer. “Don’t want one, Joel, I’m on the pill.”
“No way, baby,” he says through a chuckle, silver wrapper in his fingers. “We already did that, one too many times.”
“So just pull out?”
“Nope.”
You sigh, frustrated.
Joel holds the packet out to you, smirk on his face like he doesn’t expect you to take it.
So, you do.
You steal it from him and tear the wrapper, fishing the rubber out between your two fingers. Pinching the top, you roll it down his shaft and pump up and down for good measure.
“Ready?” you ask, head tilted, cocky smile on your lips.
“Wait, wait,” he whispers, shoulders lifting off the mattress. He lifts the hem of your shirt, telling you, “Off,” before pulling it over your head, exposing your bare breasts.
He stares you down; legs wide open, straddling him, completely naked, nipples hardened, figure silhouetted against the slivers of light peeking through the shades from the streetlights outside. You’ve never felt so confident, mounted on top of Joel fucking Miller.
His eyes roll back and his head falls against the pillow. “Fuckin’ – knock yourself out, baby.”
You steady yourself with one hand on his chest, the other taking hold of his cock and guiding it to your entrance. You push his head through your folds a couple times, and Joel hisses at the feeling, before you sink down.
You stop after the tip the first time, but it draws the same reaction from you both. Joel groans even louder than before, and you moan as you push yourself back up.
Then, without warning, you sink the whole way down.
He’s so deep it brings tears to your eyes, so big that he’s stretching you out more than you thought possible, hitting all the right spots already before you’ve even begun.
Joel’s eyes are screwed shut, his grip on your hips digging into your skin so tight it almost hurts. His jaw is tight, holding back what you can only imagine are the neediest moans he could sound.
So, you decide to draw them from him.
You lean forward and begin bouncing, feeling his thickness pull out and push back into you, both hands on Joel’s chest now for balance. You’re whimpering, the burn of his cock stretching your tight cunt so good and borderline painful at the same time, but you don’t stop.
“Good girl, good fuckin’ girl,” Joel moans, opening his eyes to watch you ride his dick. “’attagirl, just like that.”
“Joel…” you cry, letting him bottom out each time, feeling his balls slam into your ass with each bounce.
“Yeah? You like that? Tell me, baby, use your words.”
“So – good – Joel – oh!” you shout.
“Such a good fuckin’ girl for me, huh?”
You fight against the urge to close your eyes; the pleasure between your legs and the knot beginning to tighten in your stomach are all you can see, hear, feel, but you want to watch him some more. You want to see what you do to him.
You lean forward even further, moving your hands to the pillow either side of his head, so you’re directly above him now. One of Joel’s hands comes to the back of your head, pulling you down until your foreheads are together, moans escaping your mouths only to be inhaled by the other.
Joel speaks to you quieter, through gritted teeth.
“Like ridin’ me, do ya? Like the way it feels?”
“Mhm,” you moan back, and he brings a hand down to slap your ass. You yelp. “Fuck…”
“You look so good, baby, so good. Such a fuckin’ whore for me, hm?”
Another stinging spank pulls a whine from you so filthy, so loud that you’re sure the neighbors will hear, even at this hour. Joel smirks back, resting his hand back on your hip, where he has a grip of you.
Then, he bucks his own hips, pushing into you deeper than before, so deep you see stars. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, panting through the searing pain so good that you never want it to end.
“Joel – I’m gonna – fuck, I’m gonna cum!”
“That’s it, sweet girl, cum all over me. Let go, baby, I’m here.”
That does it. The coil snaps, your walls clench. Joel lets out a guttural moan as you throw your head back and ride him through your orgasm. He coos you through it, squeezing your hips, whispering, That’s my girl, doin’ so good, baby as your body rocks back and forth on his cock.
When you come back down to earth, your lids heavy and breathing staggered, you swear your body can’t take anymore. You feel so fucked out that you’re not sure you can sit up straight on top of Joel.
But he’s always been able to read your mind, and this is no different. He pulls himself up and into you, propped up with one strong hand on the mattress behind his back, the other wrapping around your waist. His cock is still buried deep inside you.
“Joel…” you whimper pathetically. “Can’t do it anymore…”
“That’s okay, baby, we’re gonna do this one together, alright? I got you. Can you do that for me? Just one more?”
You link your arms around his neck and lean into him; his strong form doesn’t shift, just takes on your weight and keeps the both of you upright as he starts to bounce you on his length again.
You’re overstimulated; your cunt swollen, fucked-out, drenched in cum, but Joel makes you feel so good that it’s impossible to let him stop. Your arms pull him in closer to your chest to steady yourself, and his groans echo in your ear.
“Good girl, that’s– that’s it, so fuckin’ tight for me, pretty girl.”
When it all becomes too much to take – Joel’s hand squeezing your waist, your clit rutting against the bottom of his stomach, his fucking cock buried so deep inside you that you swear you can feel him splitting you open – you push him back down onto the bed.
Once when you still lived in New York you read something in a Cosmo about spelling the word ‘coconut’ with your hips when riding a guy. You’d tried it a couple times with hookups, and it’d never done anything for you. They’d never done anything for you.
But here you are, nearing your second orgasm, on top of someone making such a mess of you that you brain can hardly compute to spell coconut, never mind your hips being able to round the shape of the word.
You lazily drag yourself over and over Joel’s dick, each stroke drawing you nearer and nearer to your high. When your body starts to falter, you feel him shift, and open your eyes to see him leaning over to the nightstand.
His fingers grip the rim of the black cowgirl hat you’d worn that night. He lies back, flat against the mattress, and reaches up, placing the hat on top of your head. You smile. Joel speaks in a low, gentle, but commanding whisper.
“There you go, cowgirl. Show me how it’s done.”
It’s all you need. It’s all it takes, by this point.
You brace yourself against his chest again, positioning yourself just right, and bounce on him until your vision starts to blur.
The noises slipping out of Joel’s mouth each time your bodies connect at the base of his cock push you closer and closer; every groan and whimper which passes his lips makes you sink your hips down even harder, pushing him deeper and deeper with every bounce.
“So – fuckin’ – big – inside me,” you slur, and Joel moans in response.
When he takes your hips in his hands again, you know he’s there. He’s just waiting for you to fall first.
You give in to him, feeling yourself close around his length, throwing your head back in pleasure as your second orgasm washes over you, igniting every inch of your body.
Joel’s groans meet yours as you lean forward again, slowly rolling your hips to coax him through his own orgasm. Watching him release, buried deep inside, he looks so good that you feel like you could cum again just at the sight.
You feel his cock start to go limp inside you and when he opens his eyes, panting, you smile sweetly at him.
“Fuck, darlin’.”
You giggle, hips still driving gently against his. “Good?”
“So good, baby, did so well. You’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers with a trembling breath, taking your waist in both hands and giving it a tight squeeze. You roll to the side, letting his cock slip out of you, condom full of his seed.
You tumble onto the mattress beside him, both heaving, moaning messes. Your chests rise and fall in sync, fingers tangling and untangling by your sides.
Then Joel gets up, and wanders over to the bathroom, where you watch him through the open door as he pulls the filled rubber from his soft dick. He bins it, then runs a facecloth under the faucet, dabbing it across his own forehead as he makes his way back over to you.
You can’t hide your grin as you watch his naked form approach; tan lines where his t-shirt must end, dark hair decorating his arms, legs, chest, the base of his cock. He sits at the edge of the bed, arm outstretched with the flannel in hand.
You go to take it from him, but he doesn’t loosen his grip. Just pats it over your face gently, soft gaze on yours, your fingers intertwined around his wrist. Your eyes fall closed, the cold cloth a relief against your warm, sweaty skin.
“Feel nice?” he whispers.
You nod in response. Your chest swells at how soft he’s being, how tender. When he stands to throw the flannel back into the sink, you almost find yourself reaching out to hold him down.
He climbs over you, springing back down onto the mattress with a heaving sigh.
You prop yourself up and shimmy over, positioning yourself on top of Joel, chest-to-chest. He looks down and smirks, running a lazy hand across your cheek.
“You’re so good to me,” he mumbles.
You tilt your head with a smile and lay down on his chest. You can hear his heartrate slowly calming down. His fingers twist through your messy hair.
“I have no idea what you’re laced with,” he says, “but you got me.”
You smile. “Yeah?”
Joel nods. You shift positions, adjusting your aching hips safely between his thighs. “You hurtin’?” he asks.
You nod. “Mhm. But I like it. It’s you.”
Joel’s hands run through your hair and his fingertips trace your shoulders. His touch is so light it almost tickles. You turn your jaw and kiss the back of his hand.
“My dad gone, Sarah out, free house…” you mutter.
“Hm.”
“So, you invite your mistress over.” You lift your head, smirking at him.
Joel’s chest vibrates with laughter. “You ain’t my mistress.”
“Oh really? What am I, then?”
“I am not having this conversation at 4AM, kid. Ask me again tomorrow.”
You’d think of something to throw back at him, messing with him, but your entire body aches, and your heavy eyes are starting to fold closed with how sleepy you suddenly feel.
You pull Joel’s sheets over yourself, turning your back to him. Joel instantly follows suit, pulling up right behind you, your back tight to his chest, his thighs cupping the back of yours, then slipping one between your legs.
His arms lock around your torso under the sheets. Safe. Secure. Nothing can happen to you as long as he’s got you.
“Ten,” his voice mumbles against the back of your head.
You turn so your ear is pressed against his lips. “Huh?”
“Ten. That’s my number. Includin’ you.”
Oh.
He doesn’t ask to hear yours. You wouldn’t mind if he did, but he doesn’t. You don’t think he’s telling you to hear yours in exchange. He’s telling you because you asked. He’s telling you because, whether in attempt to turn him on or simply to know something about him that you didn’t before – something nobody else knows – it mattered to you.
He’s telling you because you matter to him.
You nuzzle back into him a little, a form of reply, and, as you start to fall asleep, you feel him place a gentle kiss to your ear.
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lilywastaken · 1 year
Text
now hear me out: witch hunter!ghost x witch!reader...
he's visiting a town with the rest of his team to investigate a claim that there might be witches running rampant around the small countryside village, only to fall victim to a resident's charm while they conduct interviews.
she's a sweet woman who insists on curing the scratches that he's gathered across their travels, using tonics and herbs from her cute little garden and letting him pet her pet cat, who seems to have taken liking to the dark and imposing man, rubbing it's little black body against his boots and purring when he leans down to scratch under its chin.
it doesn't even clock in his mind how every single detail about you and your life correlates exactly with the obvious signs of a witch, but he's too spellbound with you to even realise.
he informs the others that none of the people he's talked to seem to have made the infamous deal with the devil, but due to the panicked way the leader of the community had written to them, they decide to stay to investigate further, staying in the small inn near the outskirts of town and luckily for simon, near your cottage.
despite the clear liking he's taken to you, he's still as emotionless and snarky as he would be with anyone else, and his chest tightens every time you laugh or giggle out loud at one of his dark jokes, most unladylike for any other woman, but you don't seem to care to hide your snorts or amusement around him, something he completely adores.
he insists on helping you with your garden, claiming you have no need to get your hands dirty when he's used to doing dirty work (both taking lives and tending to his own garden back home), sitting at your kitchen and watching you make the tonics and medicine you help treating anyone who has fallen ill in the village, standing close by whenever someone comes in with an injury, absolutely in awe at how they're cured almost immediately, thanking you gratefully before leaving. although, he does not miss the dirty glares some of your neighbours send you when they think you're not watching, making him grow confused, not understanding why they would harbour such feelings towards someone as kind and helpful as you.
it's not until he's taking a break at the pub, listening to gaz drawl on about some thing or another, when he catches wind of two women's conversation, frowning beneath the leather mask he wears in distaste has he takes in their poisioned words.
"-making moves on my poor husband. i swear, she's put some type of spell on him, that vile witch."
"oh, i know! my brother told her off last monday and guess what!? the next day, he fell off the roof and broke his leg! bloody bitch probably cursed him!"
"gosh, i cannot wait until those hunters finally get her! i have no idea how she's managed to evade their suspicions, she's done nothing to hide herself!"
"well, by the way that masked man has been loitering around her home, we'll be lucky to have a burning at the end of the week!"
they both laugh, the high pitch shrieks that they let out enough to make the glass in simon's hand shatter, shoving his seat back and leaving a dumfounded gaz in the pub alone as he walked away.
the splintering wooden door slams open as he shoves himself into your cottage, dark eyes landing on your crouched figure and then the second one, body freezing as he makes eye contact with his captain.
"simon." the man grunts, alerting you of your favourite visitor's presence as you pull back from the wound on his leg you were treating, a sweet smile on your lips.
"simon!" you repeat, cleaning your hands with the bucket of water next to you, wiping away the dried blood in the rags as price sends a warning look to his subordinate, the blond furrowing his brows in confusion, before the conversation he'd overheard before came to mind.
no.
no, price didn't know.
and, god, no, you weren't one of them.
you... no. no.
"let's get going. thank you for the help, miss." his whole body went into autopilot as price pushes him out of the cottage, the short wave and caring smile you sent his way the last thing he saw before the door was slammed shut.
neither of the men spoke on their trek back to the inn, and simon did not sleep a wink that night, terrified of what would happen in the coming days.
surprisingly, there was nothing. no finding of stakes, no gathering of firewood, no detainment of you.
so maybe, price hadn't picked up on you. even though simon was still convinced you were not one of those.
until after a few days of pouring rain, simon wakes up to a cold room and the absence of johnny, who he knows for a fact that never woke up before him unless forced to, something he'd learned after years of sharing the same room with the scot.
and as he walks out into the muddy roads, that oh-so familiar smell hits his nose.
the burning of wood, of grass, of cloth, of human.
his heart dropped into his stomach, following the trail of ashes that had blown across the roads until he arrives at the town square, the burning piece of wood in Gaz's hand along with the flames consuming the hay and grass that lay across the ground of the plaza, the fire slowly consuming your beautiful white dress he'd seen you sew barely days ago.
simon barely takes notice of price coming towards him, attempting to hold him back from rushing into the crowd simply staring up at you, your eyes falling down upon his struggling body, your face going from the calm expression it had been in to shock, pulling at your tied up wrists instinctively in a frail attempt to rush towards him.
"simon...!" you breathe out, soot entering your lungs as you inhale, tears filling your eyes from the burn as you watch him wrestle out of his captain's grip, his boots stomping against the rocky ground as he shoved past the gawkers, leather slamming against the kindle, ignoring his team's shouts and the fire burning his clothes and skin, reaching the stake you were tied to, his face out in the open due to the way he'd rushed out of his room, dark eyes reflecting the flames that were taking you both.
his shaky hands come behind you to untie the ropes around your arms, caging you with his body and allowing you to rest your head against his shoulder, tears streaming down your cheeks as you look down at the burns forming across his legs.
"stop." you pleade, trying to push him away with your chest. "stop, simon, stop...!"
"shut up!" he snaps, throwing the ropes into the fire as they came undone, letting you collapse into his arms as you were let free, your hands gripping his dress shirt. "you're going to be okay, we need to-"
his voice broke as he looks down at your sunken eyes, your lips dry and cracked as if you'd just ran a marathon, but looking down at your intact legs and burning dress, he realises where all your energy had gone.
"simon.."
no.
"please, stop-"
no. you....
"you're going to die, simon, please!"
you couldn't be...
"i won't be able to save you, simon, listen to me!"
you were wailing at this point, trying to push his body down the small burning hill, but his body doesn't budge.
"simon!" his captain's grating voice pulls him out of his stupor, his hands growing tighter around your waist as he locks gazes with the furious looking man, your wails becoming static in his ears as he doesn't think twice as his now blistering hands pulled your legs up, letting you grasp onto his neck instinctively as he holds you bridal style, ignoring the searing pain rushing through his body.
"simon, don't, don't you dare!" you scream, the first time he's heard you raise your voice at him. "please, i'm not worth saving, you know what i am! i don't deserve to live!"
liar. you... you were worth everything.
you were worth the burns on his body, the destruction of his ideals and the pain the mere sight of you in tears gave him.
he doesn't care what you are.
you're... a witch. what he swore to destroy and what he has been hunting for over a decade.
but you're not... you're... not evil.
maybe none of them were, maybe if he'd taken the time to get to know the women they'd burnt before he'd have realised sooner, that you were just people.
and he wasn't going to let you get hurt. maybe it was a bit selfish or ironic, but he didn't care. he'd take you away from this town, from his colleagues, from the pain, let you live in peace somewhere were no one would bother you.
and if you let him, he'd come with you too.
he ignores price's shouts about the so called spell you'd put on him and as he looks down at your shivering body in his arms, the way you're curling into him, the way you were wailing for him to save himself moments ago, he couldn't...
even if you had put some type of spell on him, he didn't care. never had he felt like this. and yes, he'd deal with the consequences of this later, but for now, as he runs through the forest with your trembling body in his arms, he couldn't care less.
he isn't going to let anyone hurt you any more than they have.
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(brainrot for this idea is open please 🗣️)
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seventhcallisto · 7 months
Text
PROLOGUE
—Deep Down.
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Toc/cw; scenting. omega in heat. talk of s3x. featuring alpha g-idle. Language. Mature Content! Talk of gender, sex, and the weird system that a/b/o roles have, including the terrible hierarchy system. It's my series so I make my own rules, period!
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Never, absolutely never, does a person get their second sex when they're born. It's no surprise they get it towards puberty, yet the majority of times, heats or ruts do not start happening until they're in their late teens- early twenties. Betas never went through that issue. They hardly ever were considered more than peace makers. For a while, they were the least chosen. While not as valuable as an alpha or as wonderful at comforting like an omega. There was still some dull middle ground. They weren't that special.
That was only for a bit, anyway. Eventually, omegas took that spot, lower on the hierarchy, whilst betas gained the middle place. You didn't agree with the system, though. It doesn't matter your second sex. It matters how you hold yourself, how you go about through life with a second sex.
And you stood by that for decades.
You took hold of a company and shaped yourself to fit their mold. Although a foreigner in this strange city, following a dream you didn't know you could grasp, you still went for it. You molded yourself to fit whatever they wanted. A calm, level-headed, peace-maker, beta. With a heart of fire and determination that'll set a field ablaze. You worked your ass off. Getting up as early as possible. Practicing. Making something of yourself. Training yourself. Learning the language.
Someone who could make even the quietest of omegas open up, and the loudest of alphas silent. You were a patient and composed person.
And when you came out on top, the very top, unreachable and untouchable, you knew you maxed out your potential. It was only then that you let it slip from your hands and into the grasp of another. You let them see what you could do, and now it was their turn.
They took it with stride. Quickly, you found yourself linked to a group you'd be a part of for life. You were surprised, to say the least.
"It smells like testosterone in here," you grimaced.
Eventually, you did get used to the stench of 8 alphas. Soon enough, you could actually smell their undertones. A mix of everything drowns every corner of the apartment you live in with them.
You were fairly the least popular in the group by a good amount. Sometimes, you chalked it up to people being oblivious. It never hurt you, why would it? You're a rare gem. Sometimes, it needs a light shined on it to really sparkle.
It's years later of cleaning up after messy alphas and teaching yourself tricks to get used to their behaviors, that you suddenly notice a difference in yourself.
"Hey, you smell different," seonghwa scruches his nose, a pleasantly surprised look on his face. You slip your shoes off in the doorway, closing it behind you. "New perfume," you reply, half hazerdly, sliding your keys into the key bowl. "I thought you liked your own scent?" He comes over and helps you with the handbag in your arm.
You hand it over to the taller guy, slipping your mask down your face. "I'm starting to stink, so i changed my perfume scent. Maybe your guys' stench is making me allergic, or I'm getting sick." You sigh tiredly when he hangs your jacket up in the closet. "No, not sick. I know what you smell like when you're sick," seonghwas eyebrows scrunch.
"You smell.. sweeter.. have you been hanging out with any omegas lately?" He questions, folding his arms over his chest. His white sweater is rolled up his arms, and his black pants hang loosely. Surely, if seonghwa is to lounge around, he's gonna do it with style. You laugh, avoiding his eyes when he catches you looking him up and down. "Ha, yeah, actually. I'm helping Kimmie prep for her heat. She plans to have a couple of mini devils running around this summer. Can you believe it?" You scoff, mentioning your long time once-trainee close friend who you grew attached too.
"Kimmie with kids, I would have never thought," you mumble under your breath, years ago you would of scoffed at the idea of young- impressionable kimmie, mature enough to consider having kids with her beta husband whom you also knew to be a trainee from before. Are you really getting that old? Seonghwa stares for a couple of seconds. His piercing eyes guide you up and down. You're staring back now. Seonghwa doesn't flinch. "Right, let's hope kim is ready for that," he laughs, and just like that, the tension breaks.
You both shuffle into the living room. Calling it a night.
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Not even two days later, you're on the couch scrolling mindlessly on your phone whilst you wait for the guys to get dressed. The practice video for one of your group songs is soon. You've only been able to practice by yourself up until that point.
Yeosang takes a seat next to you, pushing you into his side. The alpha gently taps your leg to gain your attention. "What's up?" You put your phone down, giving him your full attention. "My scent is wearing off on you," he almost pouts. You smile, turning towards him and opening your arms. "Okay, c'mere." You beckon his face into your neck. Afterward, you let him take the lead.
It takes two seconds for you to realize he's not scenting you anymore. He didn't even start. "Yeosang?" You call out, threading your fingers on the back of his neck hairs. He hums, and it sounds so far away. His scent grows heavier. "You okay?" You attempt to pull back. he chases your neck. You can hear him breathing heavily, struggling to catch his breath after every strong inhale. His soft hand snakes around your neck, gently leaning your head the opposite way so he can get more room.
You follow, cause you trust your pack member. You can feel his mouth part, his lips drawing closer to your pulse. Your eyebrows furrowed. What are you doing? Obviously, something is up. You pull away from yeosangs grasp. Backing up just a bit. You put a hand to his chest to distance yourself. It's a few seconds before yeosang seems to come back, his foggy eyes focusing. "Sorry, I.. you smell really different lately," he admits, twisting his fingers in his lap.
"How so?" You question him. "Like.. sweeter. I can smell it linger, deep down under our scents I can smell.. an omega," he admits, his eyebrows twitch down. You haven't been to Kimmies house since seonghwa asked, yet you've completely washed and cleaned yourself of her scent entirely. You don't know what to say.
"Well," you fold your legs into your lap. "I think I might be coming down with something, I changed my perfume. It could be that, too?" You can't tell if you're reassuring yourself or yeosang. He hums. His eyes search your front, glancing up at you and then down to your neck where your scent glands are. "Could you wear one of my shirts for practice? I didn't get to properly scent you, and it'd make me feel better. " his tone is more of a demand yet hes still a little shy with it. Behind his eyes, you can see the strange look he casts aside.
You smile wearily. "Sure."
Yeosang had picked a black shirt he wore very often. It took him a hot minute, but by the time you watched him go through everything in his closet, the guys were done and slipping on their shoes. Once he was satisfied with his choice, he handed it to you. A shirt that would be tight fit for yeosang hanged off you. The deepest scents you can pick out are cocoa butter and honeyed citrus, like lemonade. There's the distant scent of strong tea. The cocoa butter blends well into his scent, perfectly layered. Perfectly yeosang.
You took a deep enhale, liking the freshness of his smell. Not noticing the satisfactory smile on yeosangs face, you slipped off into his bathroom and exchanged your shirt for his. Leaving yours behind. Once you came out, you were surprised to still see him there. His scent is everywhere in this room, heavier than normal.
His eyes look your form up and down. You give a tiny spin, smiling awkwardly. Finally, his eyes meet yours, clouded with an unknown emotion. It's a few seconds of silence. You never break off eye contact.
"We're gonna be late!" Hongjoong shouts out from the front door. His voice echoes in the hallway, leading to yeosangs' room. Yeosang smiles, looking away. He makes haste to the door and leaves you. You let the breath out you were holding. What was that?
Practice takes a hard minute to start, the coolness of the room makes it easier to warm up. You're not sweating when you begin repeating steps, adjusting what you deem unfinished or sloppy. Not long does the heat kick into the room. You find yourself removing your hoodie.
"Let's get started" the manager hits the button on the camera, beginning the recording. Your eyes follow your own movement. All of ateez has said you're the ace of the group, in everything you do it seems well-executed. You doubt that sometimes.
Every move and every breath is conditioned from years of practice everyday 'til you couldn't feel your legs. Sometimes you'd go as far as to even run, dance, and jump in terrible stilletos. Which worked out in the end since the majority of the time you'd have to wear heels or platforms to match the height of the guys during every event and performance.
Sweat pools on your collar, your neck, and your forehead as you work across the room. You can smell every one of the guys as they pass around you, a flurry of scents clog your senses. You try to focus on the choreography.
You tried until your shoulder slams into someone, throwing you off balance and onto the hard wood floor. Your elbow bounces off the wood. You slide to a stop quickly. "Fuck!" you curse at the sting in your leg, hip, and ankle. The room grows extremely quiet, the music stops as quickly. Mingi bends down to your level, shock still evident on his face. "Sorry! shit, my bad, are you okay?" He reaches for your head.
"Ow" you whine, like actually whine, instead of brushing it off like you normally would. Touching your elbow. You both simultaneously notice the blood dripping off your elbow. "Why aren't you watching where you're going!?" Yunho walks up to mingi. Mingi stands up from next to you. "I didn't do it on purpose!" Mingi defends, his jaw clenches. The two stare daggers, a tense standoff so sudden you don’t know truly if you falling is the cause of it or if something else is at play. Hongjoong steps forward to stop them. A heated discussion begins.
Wooyoung and San stand back, Jaws clenched, at any moment they look ready to pounce. Yeosang stands with Seonghwa and Jongho, who look just as concerned about the growing argument, yet their faces murge into something completely different at the smell in the air.
It's something no one can put their finger on.
Your ever growing weirdly sweet scent is surprising to even you, your gut twists in an unsettled way. You don't look at their faces, trying to understand the smell and your sudden shift. What the hell is going on with you?
"Boys, out in the hallway now, please" Jongsik. The manager you've had for years steps forward. As the oldest in the room take charge, the guys looked challenged. "What about her!?" Yunho shouts out, fustrated. In the distance another aurgument begins. Mingi squats back down to your level, gently pulling your attention back to him with his hands on either side of your face. "it's not that bad, yeah? It's alright?" He wants to reassure you. "Mingi" you practically whine, pulling at his wrist. The smell of harsh and swirling emotions makes your nose scrunch, it's intense and somewhat intoxicating.
You're dizzy.
Jongsik stands firm. "Out!" He repeats himself pointing to the practice room door. He reaches for mingi's shoulder. He who pushes the older man off, standing abruptly.
Hongjoong, the pack leader, is the one that rounds up the boys and pushes them out, even mingi. Before he shuts the door. He looks at you. He's so tempted to just run back in, coddle you and wrap your elbow in bandages. Yet he closes the door anyways.
There's no defiance or whining from you. because jongsik is a beta, and already mated. He's taken on a fatherly role to you when he pulls you to your feet. "I don't feel good.." You slur. Placing a hand on your head.
"Hey, it's gonna be alright. We're gonna get you to the hospital, alright?"
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You lay on an examination bed, squirming by yourself. Anxiously you wait twirling your hand around the bandage on your elbow.
"This is something we've never seen before." With your heightened hearing, you can feel they're talking about you.
"She showed signs of being a beta for years. How could something like this happen so suddenly? It's impossible." Whispers echo in your mind.
What the hell is going on?
"Hello," a doctor, also a lady, steps in. her face is covered with a mask. "I'm Dr Liana." You try to focus, but the ache in your stomach is distracting. "It seems to have been there for a while, most likely due to continuous, omega activities, from what my colleagues and I have assumed."
"Have you been noticing anything different from your usual routine?"
You recount what you can, anything you find weird yourself. And there's so many clues, like when you stole each hoodie and wore it from everyone for a week straight just because 'you wanted too'. Or how touchy you've been recently especially with hongjoong, your pack leader. The scent change, the continuous need to please your members and let them have their way lately.
How you, oh God, how you've started collecting everyone's clothing in your closet, you called it a clothing pile. It's a nest. You've been nesting.
You've been not so subtlety feeding this hunger within you.
Realization has dawned on you for the first time in a month. And after a few more tests, you've spent a total of two days in the hospital.
Once you're out, you're immediately escorted to a heat sanctuary. A common locked and secure place for omegas going into heat.
"What I'm hearing is you're about to go into heat. It'll be a difficult process for you considering you're a beta turned omega, and it's fairly late for you to be getting your first heat, but I'm sure there's plenty of options for you."
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There were plenty of other options, yet you opted for the least embarrassing and least dreadful one. It was too late to take heat suppressants. Now, you're stuck in a somewhat luxurious hotel room with glorified room service and plenty of meds to sedate you for a week or less. They're actually so you can't feel the actual pain that comes with a heat without having a knot to sedate the feeling. If you really hoped you could sleep it off, you'd be dead wrong.
The specific question of; "do you have anyone in mind that could take care of you during your heat?" Really lingered. You thought about it. Maybe more than once, but you turned it down. No way. Nooo wayyyy. You wouldn't dare go past the first pack of alphas your mind landed on. Wouldn't even touch that book or open it in your minds eye.
Everything is very sensitive for the first day. You sweat a ton. You feel like you've lost weight, although you eat when you're not... 'foggy'. You feel the sweat pool at every corner of your temporary bed.
Anything you can get your hands on you pull, hard, and rip and tear. A pile of blankets and pillows are strewn on the floor in one giant large pile. Every once in a while you'll come back to your senses and childishly get upset at what you're doing.
No you've got nothing against omegas. You just didn't ask to be one, so therefore you're mad about being one.
Once satisfied, you spraw out and get to working on yourself with whatever you can, clothes and all. Toys. Plugs. Lube. You would have never guessed you'd end up this way. You name it, and they have it. They say there's nothing more satisfying than a knot, yet you don't enjoy the idea of what comes after. Pups? Ew. Is there even anything to counteract that? How do people just sleep with a stranger during a heat and not feel scared about what will happen in the moment? There's nothing wrong with it. It's just not your particular cup of tea.
As a beta, or.. when you were one, it wasn't very hard to find someone to hook up with. Betas have the abilities to hook up with anyone, alphas, omegas, and other betas. Although pregnancies and knotting aren't as easy for betas(you're not a big fan of wrapping it) it'll work eventually if tried enough. There's this middle ground for betas who can have it all. Relationships get difficult when you aren't as drawn to each other as an alpha and omega are, but with patience, it'll work.
There's this gross scent lingering under your skin, you can still smell the scent of your old skin, the beta you once were is suddenly being washed away by a sweet, tropical smell, an omega in full bloom. It's your second day. Yet you couldn't get more miserable. Two or three more days of this? Seriously.
You've never been a girly girl, begging for your way or kissing up to get it. You were commonly told you were a tomboy growing up. Maybe that played its role on your first designated sex. Your company pushed that role, too. Tough girl act. Rapper, Dancer. Never the face of the group. But you weren't complaining. You were the top of top trainees. Nothing could beat you down.
Yet, dressing up in baggy clothes and never looking sexually appealing was your role in the group. Tomboy rapper. Compared to the beginning of fourth gen, you were considered a girl crush but nothing else. least lines, least screen time, least roles. I mean. You trained for this, right?
Now you're stuck with a new second gender you didn't ask for. Pushing you farther behind the scenes. Just your luck.
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As soon as your first heat ends. You realize you weren't as bad. Apparently, the first heat ever is the easiest. You're supposed to get worse. Seriously. Worse? God. You can't take this. You go to the only people you know won't make a big deal out of your new.. thing.
Soyeon places a hot cup of tea right in front of you. And you can smell the scent suppressant coming from the steam. "this is supposed to help?" You sniff at it warily, grimacing at the factory like smell.
"You came to us, at our dorm, smelling like the biggest ball of 'fuck me please', take it or leave it." She clicks her tongue at you, propped up on her bed. Minnie takes a seat opposite of you, as does shuhua. "You cant even smell me, you're on scent suppressants" you groan, swirling the tea. "How do yall cope." You sigh and chug the content of the large tea cup. Soyeon laughs, minnie grimaces, and despite having a shocked look, shuhua pumps her fist in encouragement.
You've come to the group of alpha women cause, well, they're your best friends. And they're the most encouraging about any and all supplements and suppressants. They've single handedly encouraged everyone you know to take suppressants. From the front door, you hear it open and close, stepping down the hallway comes yuqi and miyeon, who do a double take.
Yuqi takes a giant whiff, and her eyes bulge. "What happened to you!?" She coughs at the stench of omega. Something she doesn't find common in their room when you're around. Miyeon scoots to the side when Soojin pushes through with a cake of some sort and a tiny charcuterie board. She places it down in front of you. You can tell the alpha in her is desperately trying to please you.
"Somehow, our poor, once beta, girl friend has changed sex." Soyeon speaks through a bite of twizzlers. You don't comment at her choice of words. Yuqi and Miyeon scoot into the room, staring at their doting member.
"There you go." Soojin pats your head and takes a seat on the bean bag in front of you. "Thanks," you sigh, digging in. The cake, which soojin explains, is a long-lasting scent changer. Magic is baked into every bite.
As for the charcuterie board. It's just something to get you some protein with the lack of good supplements in your system. In her eyes, you've lost at least half of your body weight. You haven't. Yet she's still encouraging you to take care of yourself from such a rushed heat.
"Poor girl," miyeon sighs, "I've never heard of that happening to anyone before. How's that even possible?" She takes to removing her hoodie and placing it down properly. Yuqi shuffles off her bag. Plopping onto the bed next to you. "How'd the guys react?" She steals a piece of meat from your board.
"I haven't told them" you sigh, the room goes silent.
"That's fucked up" yuqi laughs. Miyeon slaps her ankle. "So we're the first to know?" Shuhua confirms, you nod. "Wow, I'm sure they'll be happy about that," soyeon laughs lightly. You tear your eyes off shuhua. "What do you mean by that?" You clearly speak, eyebrows pulled down. Minnie places a hand on your ankle to get your attention. "Well, we're your girl pack. We'll always be your girl pack." she looks nervous.
"But the last time I hung out with you, your boys stared at me like I was an intruder in their territory." she pats your ankle. Your eyebrows pull taunt. You want to defend them. "What? No way.." You truly think about it. "Whatever you say, your boys aren't as good as we are at keeping up with our contribution to not being alpha whores" soyeon sighs pushing to sit up. "Especially mingi, he's the whoriest of them all, he goes into rut every week it seems. He needs a heavy dose of rut suppressants." she takes another chunk off her twizzler.
"You shouldn't feel obligated to tell them first. Butt.. you shouldn't be surprised when they get upset about you telling us first." The girls all nod. You fall back onto soyeons pillows. A puff of sandal wood and cinnamon surrounds you. Slowly dying down as the tea takes its hold on your heightened senses. "Maybe I should have thought this through," you rub at your eyes.
"You're always welcomed here." soojin clears your mind, patting her hand against your hip in a friendly gesture. "This won't change anything. You're still my- our best friend," soojin speaks on behalf of the girls. Everyone hums to confirm.
"Thanks," you say genuinely. "It's a bit late for you to get a drive all the way home, What'd the company say to the guys?" Miyeon perks up from the edge of the bed. "Something about me needing medical evaluation. I'm pretty sure they think I'm still in the hospital." Yuqi scoots up next to you. "Did you check your phone?"
You didn't even think about it, pulling it from your pocket. You try to power it on. "No, everything was rushed. I didn't have a chance to check anything before I had to give it up so I wouldn't expose the place I was at." The screen doesn't light up. It's completely dead.
"It's dead," you pass it to soojin, who already had her hand out to take it. She plugs it into soyeons charger. "Well, I guess you're stuck here." Shuhua and yuqi topple on top of you, squishing you into the mattress.
"Sleepover!"
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The next morning, you wake up sore. Not because of anything the girls did but because of such a long trial of whatever you did to yourself in the haze of heat. You groan when you shift your hip, burying yourself closer to the center of the makeshift bed you made in the living room.
The night was full of movies and being doted on by every one of the girls. Things aren't supposed to change because of your new sex, and that's remained true. They just baby you a little bit more than usual. "Shuhua, 'mega! Come eat! Now!" Minnie yells from the kitchen. The nickname startles you, something you've never heard before is somewhat pleasent to your ears. There's stomping towards the living room. Your head slams back down onto the pillow, pretending to sleep.
"I know you're awake." yuqis smile can be heard through her words. You can't help the prying of your lip. "Nu-uh," you grin, eyes still closed. "Get up!" She jumps on you, pulling you into a suffocating hug that she wiggles around in. You laugh and pull her equally as close. After the struggle of a couple of seconds, your exhaustion returns. Your arms fall limply around her waist.
"You doing alright?" She asks, picking herself up and off of you so you can breathe. "Yeah, I just tired myself out this week." you laugh, embarrassed. "Don't worry," shuhua perks her head up from the couch next to you. "You should have heard when yuqi had her first rut," shuhua laughs menacingly, yuqi springs up. "Shut up!" She yells. "She wouldn't stop! All night and day! We had to quarantine the whole top floor!" Shuhuas words stop on occasion when yuqi is wrestling to cover her mouth. You laugh at them.
"Hey," soojin stands over, ignoring her members. "Hi," you smile back. "Hungry?" She lends you her hand, pulling you up off the floor. "Starved," you take it, embracing her rose filled scent.
A platter of delicious food is placed right in front of you. Breakfast in their apartment is somewhat new to you. You've never really been able to stay long when you visit. Maybe you're starting to realize the guys have a stronger hold on you than you thought. Speaking of the guys. As soon as you finish your plate, Soojin places your phone down in front of you. The screen is still black, signaling she hasn't turned it on.
"You're gonna want to answer your boy toys before they stalk you down themselves," soyeon gestures. She's not wrong.
You power your phone on and let it reboot for a second. Yuqi is still eating with shuhua, talking to miyeon and minnie about something you don't pay attention to. Your phone makes a continuous notification sound when all of your messages pop up.
104 missed messages. 32 missed calls.
You're in deep shit.
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Taglist: @0325tiny @bratty-tingz @lelaleleb
(Thank you for reading ♡)
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animelovelover123 · 4 months
Text
DMC Boys - Devil Trigger Sex
DMC Boys  - Devil Trigger Sex
Parings: Dante (All Main Line Game Versions), Reboot Dante, Vergil (All Main Line Game Versions), Reboot Vergil, Nero (DMC4 & 5 Versions), V, Sparda, Credo, Nelo Angelo x Reader
Synopsis: Monster fucking. Need I say more?
Seriously though, this is a sexy little thought experiment that I had and am doing for fun. What would it be like to have sex with the DMC boys while they are in Devil Trigger? Some notes: 1. Some characters will have multiple entries since Devil Trigger designs change every game and sometimes multiple in the same game (except for Sparda who is always the same). 2. Some characters don’t have a basic ‘body turns into demon’ Devil Trigger so I take the equivalent and work with that.
Disclaimer: Don’t actually fuck a demon, it will probably hurt, lol. But if you're into that then I ain’t gonna stop you from gettin’ that sinner tail. ¬‿¬
Trigger Warnings: aggressive lovemaking, claiming, blood, interspecies sex
DMC1 Dante
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Something to note is that at this point Dante is not using his own Devil Trigger, he is harnessing the power and appearance of the demon spirits in his weapons. This results in some interesting qualities.
When Dante DTs he does not need to stay in the demon form and can freely switch back to a human body while still having the improved speed, strength, and elemental power. This means that if taking his demon body gets a bit hard for you partway through, he can switch to his human body to give you a break without pausing the lovemaking.
A negative, however, is that because he is getting his power from the demon spirits in his weapons, he has to be at least touching his weapons to DT for you. Having a big sword strapped to his back makes positioning hard. Wearing Ifrit, though it is less of a gauntlet and more like gloves with large dragon-shaped safeguards surrounding it, makes it hard for him to touch and grab things.
Although, if you are down to do some foreplay with the weapons, whether it be a thrill of perceived danger or some provocative allusion, then their presence might just be a positive.
Another thing to keep in mind is the elemental effects his DTs have. Alastor is lightning and Ifrit is fire. And this is real lightning and fire coming off him. Dante can minimize the elemental effects and focus the power away from you. However, expect to receive little zaps and licks of fire at random when Dante’s focus falters.
As for his body while in DT, he has two forms.
The Alastor DT has wings, but they are thick and small, really only meant to fly himself, so no blanketing or flying with you.
He doesn’t have any claws, just rounded fingers, so no accidental or purposeful scratching.
He has shoulder horns that point forward so if he is getting closer you have to be right in front of him, though they are good for holding onto to brace yourself. Or, if you are on top you can lean down or lay on top of him and slot yourself between them or under them, helping to lock you in place.
His eyes are covered in a helmet-like protection so no gazing into his eyes, though it does give a layer of mystique. His mouth is still free for kisses thankfully.
His hair is gone, now replaced with hedgehog-like spikes that are surprisingly soft, flexible, and pleasant to touch for both of you if you go with the grain. Slotting your fingers through them is hard, especially the closer you get to the base, but because of how solidly and directly connected they are to his head, when you grab them he really feels it and pulling them is more of an order than a suggestion for him to move his head.
The Ifrit DT has no wings and doesn’t move as fast, but he is beefier and more powerful. Pinning you to the wall with his arms hooked under your legs just got a lot easier.
He has curved spikes on his heels which may not seem like they have utility outside of more painful kicks, but when you are ridding him while he lays on the air or over most anything regardless of shape because he has hooked his feet into the ground, then you will realize the possibilities of them.
His thighs are thicker and the inside of his legs are smooth so wrapping his legs around you is just as good, if not better, than usual. Though he now has curved spikes around his waist so you doing the same to him won’t work anymore.
He has curved, ram-like horns on his head which make great handlebars, especially when he is working his mouth on you.
The hedgehog spikes on his head are shorter, harder to grab, and he now has them protruding from his wrist to cover the top of his hands. So, even without claws, you will probably still get poked and scratched. These spikes are just as sensitive so doing things like sliding your hand, palm down, along the back of his hand gives him the most delightful of shivers up his arms and down his back.
So this is the first part I wrote so it will probably be a bit weird as I try to figure out what I want to do for these. Anyway, DMC1 Dante is the first to have multiple DT designs in one game. This one only has two (he technically has one more but it is just Sparda so you will see my thoughts when you get to Sparda), so it isn't too bad. I fear 3 though.
A big issue I had with DMC1 DTs is that there are not that many good, high-quality images and videos of the DT so it is a bit hard to make out the details. And some details aren’t shared between the one official image of each DT and the in-game model. For example, you can’t see the hedgehog spikes around Ifrit’s DT hands in the official art, but you can see it in-game. And in these games, since you only turn into a demon when attacking or flying, you can’t just look at him from all angles while he stands still. SO annoying. I tried though.
Nelo Angelo (Spoilers for DMC1)
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To start, you need to understand how large this man is. We are talking around 8 feet tall and 3 feet wide. He will tower over you in every circumstance. Things like being able to wrap your arms around his neck or kiss him will have to happen upon request, especially if he is standing or you are already impaled on him.
It also means that the stretching you will have to go through will be rough. With just a single finger of his being equivalent to the average size, you are in for some serious training if you don’t want to feel the burn. ‘If’ being the operative word.
Stomach bulge inbound.
His strength is also impressive, able to lift even large men like Dante up by the neck singlehandedly, and he will do the same to you if you want it.
What YOU want is the focus as, with how warped his mind is to be subservient, his agency is low and his will to follow your requests and orders is high.
He is covered in thick armour that he cannot fully remove as it is magically fused to his body, but he can remove and shift some choice pieces. For example, he can remove his helmet, revealing his human head, though it is larger than most just like the rest of his body.
Nelo Angelo’s face under the helmet may be that of a human man, but it was cold, stoic, and pale, like a statue. Yet it reacts when you manipulate it, whether through pulling his hair, opening his mouth, or kissing him. He moves with you, molding himself to receive your affection and mirror it, hinting at the heart still hidden away inside of him.
His armour is thick and cold but can become warm over time thanks to your body heat. It also has strips of pulsating, glowing colour which change depending on his status. These strips also create a ‘V’ over his crotch which almost gives an underwear illusion and also offers quick and easy visual feedback when your mouth is on him. So, despite his physical reaction being minimal, the deepening of the coloured strips will be the best tell to know how good he is feeling, along with his wordless noises.
Nelo Angelo cannot speak, that right has been taken from him by his master, but his groans of exertion and pleasure are loud and clear.
Nelo Angelo’s armour is surprisingly smooth, lacking in sharp claws or spikes. Even the horns on his helmet are curved downward so the chances of getting sudden jabs in low. The only points you have to watch out for are his knee guards which are tall and sharp. Although they can be used as spots to place your feet to get a bit of height or as something you can push against to force yourself back into him harder.
Is Nelo Angelo a Devil Trigger? Yes and no. It is technically Vergil’s natural state while under Mundus’ control. However, in DMC3, if Vergil is wearing the ‘Corrupted Vergil’ costume, Nelo Angelo is his Devil Trigger form. Is the appearance in DMC3 cannon? No. Did I do this just because there is something hot about the idea of being with someone/something 2-3 feet bigger than me? Yes.
DMC2 Dante
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Dante has the Amulet, a magical item that, when you place devil hearts into it, gives his Devil Trigger different attributes and abilities, meaning you can customize and tailor your sexual experience.
You want him to move fast? Slam into you with more power? Fly? Slow down time? He can do that.
You want some temperature play with fire or ice? Or receive some little shocks? Your desire is his command.
Though he can only have so many demon hearts active at once so if you wanna switch there will be a few-second pause to change his loadout.
Dante here has two DT’s, his base Devil Trigger and his desperation Majin/Sin Devil Trigger.
In his base DT, his face is still mostly human. His skin is rougher and he has some veins that distend, but he has eyes to gaze into, a nose to rub against yours, and lips to kiss.
His wings are longer, though the height and thickness are the same so they can’t offer you the blanket effect but they can wrap around you and hold you close.
He has hair for you to play with! It is not as silky smooth as him in his human form and a bit more solid than normal hair but nowhere near horn level. So, you can run your hands through it, twirl it, and grab it all you want.
He has claws so prepare for some scratches.
He also can produce gun barrels from his hands so if you are into the illusion of danger or force in your play, he has that going for you.
He also has flaps of leather armour that will drape over you like the tails of his leather coat.
Being able to make love while Dante is in his Majin DT is a rarity since he has to be greatly physically weakened. The only times you can get this form is if he is extremely sick and you convince him to do it or when he just finished a battle. While still buzzing with adrenaline and an animalistic/demonic frame of mind he may just jump you of his own volition to let out his energy and claim you as his and him as yours.
Dante grows over a foot when going into Majin DT so he will tower over you more than usual. And with his wider frame and four wings, be prepared to be fully encompassed by him, trapped in a cocoon of heat and passion.
His edges are sharper and his skin is a lot harder. He is also less human-shaped. For example, instead of his waist, hips, and legs all flowing into each other, his hip consists of a thick plate to which half of the top of his legs attach and his torso thins to a V shape that attaches to the plate, leaving a flat surface to his hips that you could place a cup on. It is unnatural and might take some time to get used to. And if you were to wrap your legs around his hips, placing them into the crevices between his torso and hip plate, they with be squeezed and firmly held in place.
He has horns on top of his head, a bit short but still enough to grasp, and horns that start on the side of his head and curve to the front. This means that if you try to deny him kisses by turning your head, you will get poked in the cheek for your trouble.
He has growths under his forearms that are sharp and produce laser blades. They get in the way sometimes when he tries to hold you, but again, if you are into the illusion of danger he can always hold a blade up to your body to get your heart pumping faster.
His face is no longer human. Majin DT is a true demon so when you look into his eyes you will see piercing red lights and when you kiss him you will feel rough, textured lips.
I’m surprised by how many better-quality images of DMC2’s Devil Triggers I found. I assumed, after looking at the DMC1 options, that DMC2 would be the hardest since it is generally the least liked in the series. It also helped that in this game you stay in the demon form so I could see pics/videos of them just standing, turning, and walking.
DMC2 Dante had an interesting dichotomy in that one Devil Trigger is the most human-looking of original cannon DTs (especially in the face) while his other DT is one of the least human-like DTs. It honestly a cool design choice (assuming they did it on purpose) to have Dante’s normal DT be human-like but when he gets desperate he loses his humanity and becomes more demonic.
DMC3 Dante
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Though Dante’s Devil Trigger appearance does change depending on the weapon he is wielding, his power is not dependent on them so he can trigger without touching a weapon. So no awkward strapping of weapons to the body to have some fun in demon mode, though the variations may be some trouble.
All of his DTs create a glowing aura with a rippling, sparking energy so there is no way for you to shyly veil your body in the darkness. He will always be able to see your beautiful body, just how he likes it.
All forms have some sort of cranial tusk-like crest. The basic/Rebellion DT has the crest curled open so going in for kisses is possible. On the other end of the spectrum, Nevan DT’s face is almost completely covered by the crests like a helmet, so you are locked out of face touches. However, in all other forms the head guards make it hard to hold his face and kiss him but it also protects you from being bit by his pointy teeth unless you purposely stick something in there like your fingers, toes, tongue, or…
The crest is also solid, so no hair to play with but some of them make good handlebars.
His arms and wings are covered in scales, and with his muscles underneath it gives a similar sensation to touching a snake.
His legs have a smoother texture so feel more slick to the touch when they wrap around you, though some of his DTs have spikes on the back so be careful.
His chest has a rib design and texture so running your hands over it and having it pressed against you gives a unique, uneven feeling.
His eyes are a sharp golden glow that don’t blink, and his lips are always twisted upward into a smile so, if you face each other, there is an odd mix of excited enthusiasm and an intense watching aura present.
Clawed hands again, though with all the sharp points with these DTs, surviving a night without being left with red marks everywhere is but a dream. Also, Beowulf's gauntlets will get in the way, though the greaves can grab things so that can be used for retrieval or interesting positions.
The Rebellion and Nevan have wings that can either fold down, giving the illusion of him wearing his red trench coat, or be open. However, unlike most winged creatures, his wings start at his lower back so instead of them blocking out the world around you as they wrap around your shoulders and head, these wings will wrap around your hips and pull you closer.
Cerberus DT also has wings, though they are more so just protrusions that don’t move, so all they do is get in the way if he tries to lay down or you want to take him from behind.
The combination of the cranial crests, coat illusion, and glove-like hands, it never feels quite like you are touching him directly. There is always a feeling of separation. Although, with how talkative and energetic Dante is, hopped up on a relatively new feeling of power and primal urges, this is compensated for.
This fucker. I was dreading this because of him. Every other character and every other Dante in this series has 1-2 DTs per game, EXCEPT DMC3 Dante. He has five. Fuckin’ FIVE! Like its honestly really cool that his design and abilities change depending on his weapon, but in this specific circumstance it makes things so much more tedious. I could have gone into separate descriptions for each like in the other characters with multiple DTs but there are just too many to do that. I already have 15 to do, I don’t want the extra work.
Also, something I noticed while staring at DMC3 Dante’s DT for so long, in my personal opinion, with no intention of offending anyone… he got a goofy face.
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He looks like he is constantly on the brink of doing an evil little gremlin laugh.
DMC3&4 Vergil
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Vergil has a base Devil Trigger and then an altered one for the brief time he wielded Beowulf.
His layers of scales, plates, and leathery skin give the illusion of clothing, even more so than Dante’s. Vergil’s layers fold and bend over each other to not only mimic his coat and vest under it but also cufflinks and a high collar. A collar so high that it goes halfway up his cheeks. They flow and bend though so sliding your hands under them is very much possible.
The sheath for his Yamato, or whatever sword he is wielding at the moment, is part of his left arm. And this isn’t simply the metal/wooden sheath fused to him, no. This sheath is made of his own leathery skin and scales. Even if he takes the weapon out of it, it is hard, long, warm, and frankly gets in the way when lovemaking. Although he does have nerves in it, so it is possibly another shaft and hole to stimulate.
Vergil has a cranial crest that sits on the top of his head, meaning it is up and out of the way. Although the shape is not really suited for grabbing, it can be used as a panel to turn his head away or towards you.
In his Beowulf DT, his coat, or the illusion of his coat, is shortened into a crop top length and instead, he has wings that are sadly too thin to actually fly with or even drape over you in a blanketing effect. However, they are flexible and flowing so you can use them a bit like leashes to either yank him away or pull him closer, though more from the core of his body than his neck. That is, if you catch him off guard as his strength is superior and he does not like being at anyone’s mercy.
His crest has sharpened making them more dangerous but better to grab while still having the panel effect to twist his head.
His chest scales have also hardened and become more defined in comparison to his basic DT, giving a rib effect. They don’t distend much but when you press your hand against his chest, or it is pressed up against yours then it becomes more apparent.
He has thick gauntlets now so more delicate caresses are harder but grabbing you is just as easy, if not easier as it is harder for you to escape his hold when you can’t claw at his hands.
In this form Vergil creates a distorting, sparking aura that obscures your view of him and can give you sharp little zaps if you aren’t careful. Although Vergil has had a lot more training in this form and so can control this aura better, giving you both a clearer view of each other. However, it also means that Vergil can consciously give you little shocks when you, in his view, misbehave and don’t listen.
Vergil technically has three DTs in DMC3 but one of them is just Nelo Angelo who has how own section.
As for combining DMC3 and DMC4 Vergil, I don’t know what you want me to do. It’s the same. It’s literally the same. At least between DMC4 and DMC5, Dante’s DT had some differences to point out and there was a whole new DT to talk about. But there is nothing for DMC4. I couldn’t even really explore how differently Vergil can control his DT since it is implied that DMC3 and Vergil’s appearance in Fortuna happened at roughly the same time. So I am sorry for the cop-out but this is what I got.
DMC4 Nero
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Nero can’t really control his demonic powers yet, which can be seen in a few ways.
First off, instead of shifting his body the energy manifests as blue phantom flames and glowing red eyes, giving him a feral or rabid look, and a demonic blue astral figure manifests and infects his mind.
This figure is large, demonic, and comes out when he asserts energy. So when he is thrusting into you or does something like grab your hair suddenly, the figure may just appear. If you are an exhibitionist this may be great for you. If you get uncomfortable being watched then Nero will have to do some training before he can take you like this.
It also does not simply hover behind or above Nero. It can also encompass his torso, so in the middle of an intimate moment you may just open your eyes to find that the face above you is different than before.
It does not speak to you, but Nero can hear it and it is determined to gain more power. And one of many ways to gain and assert power is for Nero to dominate you during sex. So, with Nero being more aggressive in DT, be ready for some rougher treatment. He loves you and would never intentionally harm you, but you may have to point out when your legs are about to give out or that the bites he is leaving all over you are bleeding a bit.
Another thing to keep in mind is that Nero does not have full control over when he goes into his DT. If he is high on adrenalin, from joy or anger, or you tease him just a bit too much, he will most likely trigger and pin you to whatever surface is nearby.
It doesn’t matter if you are alone at home, out in the forest, or on some side street, you may just find yourself with your face pressed against a cold surface with his human hand holding your hair while his Devil Bringer is already ripping your clothes to ribbons and his distorted voice growling in your ear about how badly he needs to fill you up and mark you as his.
Another non-traditional DT, wooo~…
The whole part about the astral figure having its own thoughts to some extent may be totally wrong, but I got the impression that the voice that Nero hears demanding “give me more power” is it. My headcannon is that it is his more animalistic demonic nature that has been repressed manifesting as a separate entity as Nero can’t handle it until DMC5. Then again, in one of the pachinko games (weird topic I know) the figure takes on the form of Vergil and seems to teach Nero a move so IDK what the fuck is going on with it.
Credo
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Though he would deny it being a ‘Devil’ Trigger, Credo does obtain the ability to harness supernatural power to change his form into something no longer human.
This transformation is a lot softer than others, consisting of smoother lines, rounded points, and lots of feathers.
He has soft white feathers along most of his body, giving you something to really sink your hands and face into. There are exceptionally thick plumes around his thighs, so when you sit on his lap its like sitting on a soft feather comforter.
His tail is also covered with feathers, though has a bare underside showing off the muscles in it. It is more like a cat tail than anything, not having the conscious ability to grab things but unconsciously draping over you when pleased.
Thankfully it doesn’t whip around when excited, so when you take him from behind it will either wrap around your waist or drape over your shoulder.
The feathers of his singular wing are separated into three sections, offering three tactile pleasures to experience. A soft upper part, a muscular lower part, and slick blade-shaped feathers with smooth edges.
Though the feathers do not cover the crotch, they line either side so no sensory slapping sounds of skin hitting skin, but also no painful jabs of hipbones so there are pros and cons.
Speaking of the crotch, he had a chastity belt-looking protective plating that opened up like a little double door.
The plume on his head can get in the way a bit when you go in for kisses, but there is no structure to it so you can just push it aside.
There is, sadly, a rather big elephant in the room that will impede your loving making, at least until you figure out how to work with it or around it. In this form, one of Credo’s arms is attached to a large shield. It is 2/3s his body height, solid as steel, and a constant. His other arm does end in a hand with rounded fingers that can hold and caress you. His other though, will be in the way. Though it does offer good cover if either of you want to sneak in a tantalizing touch in public (not that Credo would ever condone such a thing but he hasn’t pushed you away either) and it offers a surprisingly comforting and secure nesting spot for when you are settling down after. And with how he can fly, even with only one wing, it can be like a little basket to carry you around in.
Atop his head are two sets of horns, one that creates an incomplete loop which makes a great handle and another set that points backwards quite a ways and has a layer of feathers on top. The letter set is long enough that even if you are average human height, compared to Credo who is 6’4”ish and grows a few inches when transforming, you can easily grab one and use it to yank his head up and back while you slam into him from behind.
Another oddity not often seen is how the claws on his toes and heels stick straight up. It may take some ingenuity to use them but there is potential there, especially those who have a particular liking to feet.
Unfortunately, the human-looking face he has is a façade, nothing but a solid mask. Like a sculpture of the gods, it is hard and unmoving. The golden hairs making up his beard are like strands of golden thread, his red eyes do not blink, and his lips stay curved in the slightest of a closed-mouth smile, even when he speaks. It truly gives the feeling of an angle taking on a more conceivable form for you so it may bestow upon you a gift. Though the ‘gift’ in this case is rather sinful.
This is one of those things that is not actually labelled as a Devil Trigger but could be argued as one.
One thing that people may not agree with me on is the idea that Credo’s shield in DT is part of his body and I admit, it is kind of unclear. I argue it is because we never see him not with it (unlike his sword and spear which he can throw and drop) and his in-game module does not have a left hand, his arm just melds into the back of the shield (see pic if it works).
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After the fight, Nero gets an item (as he does after every boss fight) that is stated to be Credo’s shield. However, the Aegis Shield (what the item is officially called) does not look like Credo’s shield and when we see Credo later, he still has his shield. And, unlike how in other post-boss battle cutscenes we see Nero holding the ripped off item and it disappears as he absorbs it’s power, Nero grabs Credo’s shield, absorbs power, then throws the shield and Credo aside rather than ripping it off.
DMC4 Dante
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Dante has two Devil Triggers, though one can’t be held for more than a minute so it is more for brief moments of passion or something to spice up the already spicy moment.
Dante’s DT here gives the illusion of a more human appearance.
The colouring and positioning of his scales and plates mimicking his red trench coat, gloves, chaps, and boots. He has lips and a nose, and there are white layers on his head and chin that look like his hair at a glance. However, the heat radiating off of him and the reptilian-like textures always remind you of the demonic nature of the thing currently spreading your legs.
His eyes are also a dead giveaway as there is nothing human about them.
The glowing spot on his chest that looks like a hole with cracks spreading out from it is a sensitive spot for him. Run your fingers along it, kiss it, or lick it and you can feel the vibration of his pleased growls and purrs.
He has more faux coattails this time, 4 to be exact, they are a lot more flexible and flowing than those before so moving them to take him from behind is easy.
Though he does get a bit faster, Dante’s DT offers much more strength this time around so be prepared to not walk the next day.
In this DT you don’t just have to watch out for his clawed hands, but also around his chin so the usual playful scratchy sensation of his stubble is now hard, and potentially painful, spikes.
He has spikes that start on his chest and go up past his shoulders. These are okay handlebars, though only work for leading his torso rather than his head. They can also get in the way when trying to go down on you or face sitting, but if you guys take the time to slot your legs between his face and the spikes, then no matter how much you squirm and jerk, you can’t escape his ravenous tongue.
His foot claws are longer now, unlocking the potential of Dante hanging upside-down down for some spider-man kisses or standing 69ing.
Also, first of Dante’s DTs to have a bulge so that means there is something to grind on for a bit for foreplay. And who knows, maybe the sudden appearance of a bulge means he has more packing down there this time.
Dante’s Dreadnaught DT does not last that long, a minute or two max, and he has to build up power and anger to even trigger it.
When he does pull it off though, there is an intense darkness about him in this form. Not just visually as his whole body is veiled in a deep black shadow-like fog with only the ripples of power along his spikes and helmet-like guard offering colour and light. But there is also a foreboding darkness with how his movement is slowed.
When he approaches you, he doesn’t run, he walks as his power is weighing him down. Yet his steps are silent, as if he isn’t touching the ground. When he touches you, it is cold and has an airy feeling, like little puffs of smoke are brushing against your skin. He is invulnerable in this state so he never truly feels anything in this state. He can’t feel your touch or your warmth. He has to focus to register your attempt to push and pull him. He can’t even clearly see you, at least not in detail.
This all creates a feeling of separation, detachment you could say. Yet it also has a mystique and dread, as if an omnipotent supernatural being had chosen you to pursue.
I have honestly never heard of Dreadnaught DT before doing research for this. It isn't even listed on the DMC Fandom Wiki Devil Trigger page! I only found out about it because I was watching { DANTE }‘s videos of showing off Dante’s DTs to see their in-game models and movement and it is featured there. There isn't that much info on it online aside from people talking about its lack of use and the fandom wiki has a single tiny paragraph about it on the Royal Guard page.
Reboot Dante
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For Dante to go into Devil Trigger he has to have his mother's amulet and be in Limbo, or the worlds have to be merged by now, so there is a dissociative aspect to making love here and like this. The world isn’t quite right here, and neither is Dante when he is triggered.
When he triggers, every living being except for himself is lifted into the air as if gravity had been turned off. You become floaty and dazed, your mind and body slowing down until Dante grabs you and pulls you back to land. The fog in your brain never fully disappears but things become clearer as his mouth aggressively kisses and bites at any open skin he can get to and his hands start clawing at your clothes.
If you touch the ground and focus you can find gravity again. But if Dante keeps you elevated and keeps your mind scrambled with pleasure then you are left in anti-gravity, at the mercy of Dante who can easily flip you around and lift you. It also means that his grip on you is all the stronger as he is responsible for holding you in place.
The colours of the already distorted world distort further, draining into white and black and all the shades in between. Even his dark hair bleaches into white during this time. The only splashes of colour are on Dante himself through his clothes and eyes, making it so you always look at him.
Though his body remains human, his eyes turn from pale blue, to the point they could be called grey, to a striking black and red, which match his more aggressive, demonic nature in this form.
When Devil Triggered, Dante is tapping into his demonic half and the longer he stays in it the more humanity escapes him. If your foreplay takes too long or by the time you reach your peak he may be too far gone to hear or care about your need for a break.
Thankfully Kat has created a spray that can knock Dante out of his DT if you need it.
But if you choose not to use it and let Dante’s DT run its course, Dante’s sense of concern for your exhaustion and boundries slip away as he loses himself to demonic urges of claiming and, if he has even the slightest interest in starting a family while in the right mind, breeding you.
It doesn’t matter if you’re in tears, if you’re twitching from overstimulation, or if you have gone limp in exhaustion, Dante needs to do this. To fill you, to mark you, to get rid of this burning sensation in his body and quench his hunger.
Advance warning (or post warning depending on if I reorganize these); any person without an actual demon form will usually have shorter parts since the majority of the other parts are about explaining how touching them would work when their body is so different. Without a different body shape, I am left to focus on something unique about the DT. In this case, I focused on how blinded Dante gets when in DT. In the game, we see how he is so blinded by betrayal and pain that he almost kills Vergil. So I tried to translate that tunnel vision of intense reaction to emotions into sexual desire. I think it came across well, though I feel that this might just inch into possible non-con with how aggressive and primal they become. I know some people aren't into that so I want to write it in a way that gives you an out if you want while leaving the possibility open if you are into that.
Reboot Vergil
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Vergil has been training with his demonic power for a long time and chooses to focus the power outside of himself, so he is not as animalistic when DTing as others.
Even visually he can choose not to change, but if you want the pale skin, glowing eyes, and veiny look he can certainly do that for you.
The only visual change that he might let slip when in the heat of the moment are the flecks of demonic energy that hover around him and fly off in wild directions with more intense movement.
His DT consists of him creating a doppelganger that can work in tandem with him or act on its own. Meaning you have two Vergil’s to work with.
Two voices telling you how good you look and feel, and how he couldn’t focus on work when all he could think about was you.
Two sets of lips and teeth to kiss and mark every part of your body.
Two sets of hands sliding your clothes off and leading you into position.
Two tongues lapping at you and preparing you.
And two dicks searching to slide into you and be wrapped in your warmth.
The doppelganger does pose some differences though. The most obvious being that visually he is not consistently there, like a body you can get glimpses of through a thick mist.
He can also change colour if that does anything for you.
The doppelganger can also choose when it is corporeal and incorporeal, so even if you have clothes on or are wrapped up in a blanket, he can move through it and touch your skin directly anyway.
The doppelganger can also act as a surrogate. So while Vergil is busy with a meeting, his attention may be split as half of his mind is focusing on controlling his double as it takes you in the next room over. Call it prep for when the meeting finishes and Vergil can take over or join the fun.
This was another one where there is no physical change into a different body so I have to work with what I’ve got, which is not much.
DMC5 Nero
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Nero has finally unlocked his full DT transformation and he can even control it better than before, meaning your intimacy can be more controlled and sensual. Unless you want him to be a wild beast because he would happily oblige.
His DT is more on the human side, with a navel, abs, pecks, and a mostly human-shaped face with warm lips that actually mold to yours rather than are stiff and just follow along like many other DTs.
His butt in DT is like a human’s rather than covered in scales or plating, meaning it can be grabbed, can jiggle and tense, and can be smacked with that satisfying sharp sound ringing out, though it is usually drowned out by the sounds that slip from his lips when you do land a good hit on his rear end.
His eyes are lizard-like and glow, making them more piercing. The kind that you can see track your movements from across the room like a hunter waiting for its prey.
His hair grows exponentially, going a third down his back. It is silky smooth to the touch, tough enough for you to yank on, and thick enough to block out the light when Nero hovers above you and his hair drapes over you just right.
He does have some spikes and plating, such as his calves which are covered in sharp spikes and his shoulder guards which are made for a particular set of astral hands that are not yours so they are hard to hold. Although if you slot your arms between the shoulder lines just right, they can become wedged and all you can do is grab and claw at Nero’s back while you are held open and helpless for him.
He also has a couple of chin spikes so no chin nuzzling.
The rest of his plating, scales, and skin are smooth so wrapping yourself around him, being wrapped up in him, sitting, straddling, and all the rest can be done comfortably.
The plating around his side leads down his torso, making a sort of happy trail leading your hand to just the right place.
He also has a bulge, though, like a lot of him, it is more human in proportion compared to his dad or uncle. Don’t tell him that though because he will simply have to show you how he is a grower rather than a shower.
His hands are clawed now, claws that are really long but not razor sharp. Perfect for dragging across your skin to give you those pleasant tingles without actually causing harm. Again, unless you want that.
Speaking of claws, he has a second set now… kind of. His wings act more like arms with claws rather than wings. They have the full range of a normal hand, and arguably more, so can grab and lift and pull you around as he desires.
Although these clawed wings are not exclusive to his TD and can come out whenever. They tend to get integrated into all of your intimate moments, whether intentionally or not. And they are even occasionally involved with the lead-up as he keeps his real hands somewhere tame while his Bringer Claws sneak over to and grab something a bit spicier.
He has a pair of horns on his head but they are not really shaped well for holding. They are more like head guards with a feather-like scaling pattern that is quite pleasing to the touch for both of you.
They do make the space a bit tight when you go in for a kiss. Though he likes this as once he has you pinned down and brings his face nice and close, there is no escaping from his lips for you. As for the rest of your body? Trust me, he will find a way to leave his sharp little teeth marks all over you.
His voice becomes distorted when in DT, making it deeper and more gravely to the point of pretty much having reverb.
Holding his DT does take some effort, so he pants and breaths a bit harder and more often. And with how his voice is affected those sighs and sharp intakes ring out through the room.
I’m surprised with how little I had to say for this one, but I guess that is because his DT is rather tame in regard to representing a demon. Also, a lot of little things I have said have already been said for the other guys. And I am losing steam. I’m almost done though, so close…
V
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V was a human, he did not have the same demonic energy as his kin, not from his own being at least.
That doesn’t mean you and he can’t have some demonic fun, he just requires some assistance. If you are up for it, of course.
For the most powerful demonic force V has under his control is mindless, lacking a true will of its own, and does not exactly have a solid form. It is flexible, moldable, one could even say like a thick liquid.
Nightmare, under V’s command, can change its body at will.
It could be like a large drop of warm water gliding around your skin, pinpointing your sensitive areas under your clothes as you try to do something else.
It can be like a thin snake, sliding around your body, squeezing you just enough to make your heart pound.
It can lay thin across your skin like clothing or even closer, contouring perfectly to your body, while heating, vibrating and shifting around.
It can surround you in intertwined and knotted tendrils that poke, prod, slide, writhe, and thrust around you.
Or it can fully encompass you, like you are submerged in water with every bit of your skin coated yet everything is dark, warm, and relentlessly stimulating you.
And all the while V is sitting nearby, watching and controlling the moment carefully.
His primary focus is on you, making sure you are safe and satisfied, occasionally slipping in for a moment to surprise you with a sudden texture shift before disappearing again.
But if you were to call out to him, asking him to join, well he could multitask.
So this is the most different of any of these Devil Triggers to the point that I was debating not putting it in. But I decided, why not. We are already going crazy with these things, why not get some slime/tentacle hentai in here. I still chose to keep it really short though since this may be uncomfortable/a step too far for some people.
DMC5 Dante
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Again, Dante has two DTs, with his first one being very similar to the one he used during the Fortuna incident. So a lot of the points mentioned there carry over. There are a couple of new things to mention though.
For one, he has more control over his demonic power now, meaning he can control the heat radiating off him better and, more importantly, his eyes are no longer just glowing orbs of power. Though more reptilian than human, you can see Dante’s eyes, gaze into them, and see how they darken with lust and then shine with love as you cuddle after.
His feet have actually shrunk so, no more upside-down fun, but that is made up for by his wings.
What looks like the tails of his coat can lift and open into a pair of wings that he can fly with or wrap around you. With 2 wings, even with each wing having 2 segments, he can’t quite encompass you like in his Majin form but with the glowing, circular pattern on the inside it offers a visual effect that is hypnotizing to watch. This dazzling visual is enhanced when ripples of sensation and energy surge through Dante causing the lights to flicker and waver.
His wings also have hooks on the top which he can use to hold you, in particular your shoulders, in place so you don’t slide away from him as he slams into you.
Now on to his Sin Devil Trigger.
He does have to stab himself to get into this form which could be a turn-off or turn-on for you. It has happened to him so many times that it does not faze him all that much, though he does let out some deep groans and growls as he feels the rush of power take him over.
This is the farthest from human-like he has looked since his brief time being able to hold Majin form. No nose, eyes back to being simple glowing slits of energy, and not even lips to kiss.
His skin is like rock and if he doesn’t focus, he could burn you with how hot his body becomes.
And there are spikes everywhere. Head, shoulders, arms, chest, legs, nowhere is truly safe. Even his waist, though having a similar thinness and flatness to his Majin DT, has spikes pointed at it so it is a risky idea to slot your legs around them.
But if you can brave the danger and you both are able to keep safety in mind, or not if you like some pain, this will be the most intense night you will ever have. Each thrust takes your breath away and the weight of his body almost makes you feel trapped, a true feeling of being taken by a wild beast.
Add in the fact that the hooks on his wings, of which he has four now, have become more like appendages so they can bend and twist at will, which means he can scoop up and manipulate your body, counting his arms too, in six ways now, making you feel surrounded and at the mercy of this titan.
Also, Sin DT has a bigger bulge, so we all know what that means…
The bulge is even shaped a bit like it and it has a cracked, lit slit separating the protecting scales as if it is so big that it is almost forcing its way out.
Also, his ass is surprisingly round and big, covered in small scales which means you can feel the muscles move under them. But there is a spine-like structure between his cheeks so no hotdogging but gripping and caressing are still on the table.
Some sensitive places are along the glowing spots of his inner forearm and on the glowing inside of his horns. Not the long ones on top of his head, but the ones wrapping around the sides of his head. Because of how rough and hard his skin is, just touching them isn't enough. You have to claw and dig into them. When you do though you get this interesting sound. This crackling, sizzling sound along with his warped, deep growl and snap of his jaw.
It’s the most sensation he can feel in this form while making love, aside from finishing of course. Dante feels so powerful, so invulnerable in this state that when you do it suddenly it's like his brain shuts down for a minute. He twitches and may even crumble down onto you for a second before bouncing back. And though it may be stifled by the distortion, you can also hear him whimper. Quite the contrast from his intimidating form, but this is a power only you are privy to and can exploit out of him.
Unlike most people who joked about/did not consider the Devil Triggers being sexy until the first clear shot of Dante’s Sin DT was of his beautifully sculpted booty, I have always been curious about the weirder, more creative side of fantasy sex, and so have occasionally imagined scenarios like these. I used to shy away from writing/sharing fanfiction ideas about crazier things as I feared the possible onslaught of hate. Now though, I wonder how different the reception for these will be since the immaculate rear ends of DMC5’s DTs are a meme and normalized?
DMC5 Vergil
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Vergil’s Devil Trigger has lost practically all of its clothing illusions and is overall less human-like.
He is a lot more ridged and sharp now, with pointed protective scales and plating along his chest, limbs, and head. There is a soft spot, however, right over his stomach. The scales are smaller and thinner to the point where you can feel his ab muscles flex and contract due to choice or as a reaction to stimulation. Everywhere else though you must take caution.
This caution should also extend to his bulge of all things. The shape is a bit odd as it both curves up and down. The up curve is relatively smooth and if he leans back enough, you could even sit on it while he is standing. The downward curve is where the danger lies.
The protective plating and scales form a dragon head with glowing eyes and everything. Does it move? Probably not, but the little fangs and curved snout of the crotch dragon may just rip into your clothing.
His arm sheathes make a return and is both less and more obstructive. On the positive, they are shorter now and open, acting more as pipes that exude demonic energy that form into blades than a place to store a physical sword. On the other hand, he has them on both forearms now.
Speaking of pipes, his cranial crests have opened and become exhaust pipes for demonic energy that burst forth like blue flames. Vergil does have enough control over his demonic blood to choose when and if he creates these flames and how hot they are. He can actually make them cool to the touch, allowing you to run your hands through them without risk of injury. Even if you are not that interested in them, he likes to have at least a small flame going as the way the light reflects in your eyes makes you even more dazzling than usual.
He has horns and spikes that protect his face but there is enough room for you to slot your head in there for kisses, though he has no lips to kiss with.
He does, however, have a lightly barbed tongue that, with careful control of his demonic energy, he can also choose to make hot or cold as it explores your mouth or drags across your skin.
He has wings that he uses this time, able to fly you around so he may abscond with you to a more private area when the need arises. They have a glowing ripple pattern on the inside that, along with the energy flames of his head and arms, can create quite a flashy light show. Now whether he uses that to entertain or distract you is something for him to decide.
He also has a tail, and quite a long and strong one at that. Unlike most tails, his attaches to his upper back, making it start closer to your head level. This makes capturing you by the shoulders or wrists and lifting you off the ground, suspending you and leaving you helpless in front of him while both his hands are free, easy.
The main length of the tail has large, flat scales that come to softer points, so even if it slithers over you against the grain, it won’t hurt as long as it is going slow.
The end of the tail is barbed, but the actual tip is thin, smooth, and around a foot long. This means it can act as a good replacement, or additional, rod to play with.
And with the fact that Vergil can create a doppelganger in the image of his demon form while in his human form, well you can have the best of both worlds at the same time.
Now, some people may think that me not expanding on Vergil’s doppelganger ability is a waste, but all of that detail had to be used for Reboot Vergil because that is all Vergil’s DT is in that game. I guess I could copy and paste a handful of points to this section but that would be a waste and cheap. Besides, this might encourage those who skip parts to go back and actually read Reboot Vergil’s part, lol.
Sparda
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Sparda is very comfortable in his demon form, more so than his human form, so he knows exactly how to use it.
He has a lot of protruding bits that mimic armour. For example, he has plating that acts as shoulder guards and scaling on his legs that go up to his hips. It gives ‘a man in uniform’ type of vibe but it can get in the way.
The biggest hinderance is the protective ring around his chest that comes to a point in the front. Chest to chest contact just won’t happen. It isn’t even big enough for you to sit in for easier eating out. The only possible positive is its ability to capture liquids, so if you are into puddles of various things you have that going for you.
At least his knee guard-like protrusions, the ones on his legs, and the ones on his shoulders can help you hang on. Whether it be planting your feet on his knee guards to get a bit higher, using his leg guards for hooking your legs around his surprisingly thin waist, or having your legs sit between his shoulder guards and head for the aforementioned easier sitting for licking.
Speaking of his legs though, they, and his arms, have this interesting ripple texture that is flat enough to his body that they don’t cause discomfort but make a pleasing ticking sound when you drag your nails across them.
He has spikes on the tops (closest to the elbow) of his forearms, so fisting can only go so far.
His horns go out to the side and curve downward so they stay out of the way for kisses and, though thick at the base, thin out at the tips so you can grasp them. One function that Sparda had never considered before though is how, when facing away from you, you can hook your arms under his horns and rear his head up.
His fingers are clawed but surprisingly not his toes. Instead, his feet are hoofed with the split like a goat. Not much utility during sex but the sound they make when he walks around is a surprisingly soft yet satisfying ‘clop’.
His lips are upturned, unlike humans, so he does not quite smile and looks as if he is frowning, or scowling with how his head armour shapes his eyes. It may take some time for you to get the more subtle signs signalling his true feelings. Or, if you train him right, you can weaponize your concern of not being able to read his face into making him be more vocal during lovemaking.
His wings are bug-like, having a harder protective shell and 4 sheer wings that shimmer in the light. When he flaps them they beat quickly, creating a decent amount of wind which can be used to either manipulate temperature, for comfort or excitement, and to make the parts of you already wet tingle as the chilly breeze hits them.
So a couple of interesting notes about this one. First off, would you count this as a Devil Trigger? It’s not really clear if Sparda’s demon form is his natural state and he just chooses to have a human form to fit in better with humans or if his human looking form is equally his natural state and he just switches form depending on the situation. The only beings we have seen that take on a drastically different look when DTing are demon/human crossbreeds, which Sparda is not, and Lucia who (spoilers) is an artificial demon created by Arius made to look human so she, and others like her, can act as his bodyguards in the human world without drawing suspicion. (spoiler end). So jury is out on that one.
Second point which causes some problems when making this is the fact that the details for Sparda’s demon form are vague. We knew the general idea but because most of our looks at Sparda are through different characters channeling his power, the DT changes to fit that character. For example, when Vergil DTs into Sparda’s form he still has the skin sheath thing on his arm, which Sparda definitely didn’t have. The only time, as far as I know, that we have seen Sparda’s demon form in a main game, the REAL Sparda, is in the opening of DMC1 but that is obscured. I did the best I could, but it may not be accurate.
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neet-elite · 7 months
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An Angel, The Devil, And God Take Care Of You — (SDV) Kinktober
Pairing: Sebastian / Sam / Alex / Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 8,241 Warnings: Foursome, praise, degradation, worship, alcohol, Alex POV, established relationship, cunnilingus, consent checks, name calling, overstimulation, blowjob, creampie, L-bomb, aftercare Synopsis: He always knew that this would be a good idea. He’s been friends with Sam and Sebastian ever since he could remember, and though he’s aware of their closer than most bond, he’s never felt left out of the group. What better way is there to say thanks to them than: Here is my girlfriend, have fun.
A/N: So like… This is just porn without much plot. And it only barely fits into the Halloween theme but… I hope you enjoy it regardless! Posting this at 11.45pm on HALLOWEEN NIGHT LOL.
pinglist: @beet-roots / check my pinned to see how to get added!
What worth is a God if he is unwilling to share with his followers?
In all honesty, Alex is a God in costume only. The loosely wrapped toga—though cheap as it is—does well to showcase his hard worked for abs and muscular thighs, and even he has to admit that he looks quite pretty in the faux laurel wreath atop his head. Although, the outfit is a bit lopsided due to the rough and tumble nature of the drunken night thus far, and so he’s not as pretty as he was a few hours prior, but he doesn’t think you mind given the dopey smile you send his way when he catches your eye. Such a pretty and innocent smile that he automatically mimics in an effort to ease you into the situation you’ve found yourself in, letting his hand wander to your exposed thigh to pet at as a soft I love you, I’m always here.
With his grandparents out for the night and Spirit’s Eve so close, what else was he supposed to do besides thrown his annual costume party? The addition of his new girlfriend by his side is a welcome one, and he’s confident when thinking that the night has went well. You and him both are full with alcohol, a warm buzz in his chest to match your flushed cheeks as you get ready to end the night on a high note, one that has been extensively spoken about and thoroughly thought out. Once again he gives your inner thigh a rub upon recalling the talks, squeezing it lightly for reassuring consent before retracting his hand fully and back into his lap to hide the evidence.
Currently, he sits on his desk chair that’s been haphazardly pulled up beside his bed in a clear hurry, the way his legs have to straddle it at an awkward angle proving just how desperate he is for tonight. His eyes remain hazy when you nervously play with your hands, and when you mouth him a small thank you, his vision stays blurred; and it’s not just from the alcohol he’s consumed that night. But rather, the love and adoration that spreads from his chest to his cheeks at the sight of you so small. You always look so small in his bed, especially when he’s in it with you, but tonight is a different kind. An overcrowding, he settles on.
“Comfy?” Sam asks, his voice barely registering in Alex’s ears because he’s much too focused on the way you squirm in the speakers lap. The way your fluttering eyes catch his attention as you shuffle against Sam, your back to his chest while Sam rests himself against the old bed headboard. Sam’s halo drops a little at your movement, the angelic outfit adorning him all crumpled and riding further up his body the more you wiggle. It’s a bit ironic, Alex muses, but he also thinks he hasn’t been more in love with you than he is right now. He doesn’t think much else in this moment.
“Mhm.” You respond softly, sweetly, like the good girl you are. It’s too easy for him to lose himself in your innocent voice given the lewd scene before him, the stark contrast going straight to his cock as he repositions himself as subtly as possible to accommodate his growing length.
“Can you, uh… Spread your legs a bit more?”
This time, Sebastian is the one to ask. A small whispered please follows him, as if politeness was only a secondary thought, or something you weren’t deserving of. Alex doesn’t mind either way, his cock pulses against the light cloth of his toga at the thought regardless. He knows his friend well, and as such, he’s well prepared for what’s to come.
Sebastian is bent over in front of you, the faux devil horns atop his head threatening to poke against your knees while his palm lays flat against the tent in his pants like a dirty pervert. The sight of your gasped reaction to Seb’s want for you causes Alex’s cock to twitch too, and he inwardly laughs at himself. He too is a pervert, so he can’t judge his friend too much. Especially not when you comply with his request and let Sebastian’s gaze drop down to your cute panties. The ones Alex specifically picked for you to wear for tonights events.
Seeing you sandwiched between an angel and a demon is one of the best sights Alex has ever seen he decides, dropping his hand to his own cock to match Sebastian while Sam whines softly behind you, the shifting around you’re doing surely rubbing against the poor boys hard cock. You fit so well between his friends, your own costume barely there to begin with and leaving little to the imagination all night. It’s been difficult resisting you, and his heart hurts at the realisation that he doesn’t have to hold back any longer, breath catching in his throat when you seem to have the same realisation. Both of you suddenly acutely aware of your surroundings as Sebastian settles between your open legs, his hard on poking against your cute plain panties, white and girlish to excite his friends. He’s glad to see his choice has worked. And perhaps more than that, his cock hardens at the knowing that his friends are beside themselves with need for you.
Alex doesn’t speak. Not yet. He’s content enough just to watch you with hearts in his eyes, pride swelling in his chest at the way you moan out for more attention—of which Sam and Sebastian are all too eager to provide you—and how you catch his eye every now and then with that glassy look you wear oh so well. An unspoken confirmation shared, an otherwise private confession. He does nothing more than give you a little nod, and you’re already pawing at Sebastian’s all but ruined costume. Which is a shame, really, because Alex thought he looked pretty hot in the demon fit.
“Fuck, you’re eager—” Sebastian laughs, but it’s too breathless to be considered mocking. No, Alex knows the tone as one of ruin, because he’s let out the same gasped sound before when you’ve been beneath him. Precum leaks from his tip when Sam removes his halo, the gravity of the situation not lost on him as the angel in front of him loses his innocence in favour of lusting after you, tugging on your shirt and helping you remove it in one swift move. And just like that, things are happening too fast for Alex to keep up with. Reeling at the fact that just as Sam’s greedy hands grab under your bra so too does Alex grab at his cock as if on command, shaking it once or twice and letting a rushed breath escape him. Sebastian is already in the process of undressing too, and thanks to his desperation, he’s soon done and prompting both you and Alex to suck in air. Muscular, though not as much as Alex. It’s his tummy that draws Alex’s vision off of you for just a few seconds, the way they flex under the strain of holding back for you causes more precum to drip down his length, staining his cheap costume sheer for you to stare at. Which is only made worse really as he catches a glimpse of Seb’s cock, all red and wet, jumping for attention that he gladly gives it.
But you don’t.
Sebastian smiles at your gaze in an apparent moment of weakness, his own eyes travelling with your own to gawk at the barely hidden sight of Alex’s own hard cock, and yet still he gently places a finger under your chin as if he was afraid to break you. Don’t damage the goods. He pulls your attention back to him slowly, your eyes hanging on to the wrong cock for as long as possible, and Alex can’t help but snort laughter at the dumb look you adopt. “Eyes on me, dummy.” Sebastian all but slurs, the effect of the alcohol Alex assumes. But… He wouldn’t blame him if it was more caused by how stupid you look, all cute and needy. It’s Alex’s favourite sight, and his cock trembles with excitement to share that look with his friends.
With your attention back where it belongs, Sebastian doesn’t hesitate in teasing you. Dirty words of “Such a needy thing, aren’t you?” and “You really need three cocks?” whispered against your soft skin, matched by a demonic smile as his teeth graze against your neck. Alex tugs at his clothed cock when you react almost instantly with a whined nod, and he watches Sam’s hands travel down your body as he signals for Seb to help undress you too.
They’re so impatient about it too, tearing at your costume and groping every inch of your skin they can reach in the process. Pinching at your sides, squeezing at your tits; their excitement is palpable. And once you’re sufficiently naked all three of them sigh into you, a collective appraisal of how pretty you are; and how much they need you. Perhaps a bit too eagerly so, given how Sam is quickly lifting you up off his body for just a moment, just a few seconds until Sebastian can help him remove the bottom half of his angelic costume and his cock can slap out against his tummy. Alex doesn’t miss the way a string of precum connects Sam’s tip to his abs, and he has to swallow back a moan so as to not disturb the scene playing out in front of him too much.
“Please—” He hears Sam beg. “You’re so soft and pretty, please put it in—” All gasped and cute, like nothing else in the world exists to his friend other than being inside of you. Alex can barely contain himself too, digging his hand under his toga to thumb at his leaking slit, letting a barely audible exhale escape him as his hips roll into the feeling.
It only takes a moment for his eyes to flutter shut, thumb pressed against his tip to play with himself, and when they open again, Sam’s cock has slipped into your pretty little cunt. It feels real good to be an observer, he thinks. To have his rough hand tight around his cock, all the way at the base to squeeze at while you’re squished between his two best friends. He’s got the best seat in the house to watch you fall apart, feeling privileged to have your trust in this process. Your previous position remains much the same, except you’ve slid down a little—no doubt due to sitting on Sam’s cock—while your legs are forcibly raised in the air, Sam’s strong grip right under your knees and Sebastian’s greedy hold on the fat of your thighs. Sam seems to have slipped down the bed with you, though Alex trusts the grasp he has on you while his cock slowly enters you is sufficient enough, the high pitched whine that sounds once you’re completely sat down on his cock goes right through Alex, and he’s got no choice but to respond with his own low groan too.
The sudden sound of his appreciation must have been loud enough for all to hear, and Sam lets out a faint laugh turned moan in response. The sound of his voice makes Alex’s cheeks heat up. “She’s so tight, Alex. Fuck—" Talking about you like an object and not his loving girlfriend. There’s something so gross about that that his cock enjoys.
Alex doesn’t have the strength in him to fully respond, the soft mewl you offer Sam as his cock fills you full effectively silences him as his fist starts to move up and down his too hard cock slowly, in time with the ever gentle rocks of Sam’s hips up into you. Alex can hear how much you appreciate the soft start, the sight of you biting down on your lip to try and remain somewhat composed does the complete opposite to Alex, his heart hammering in his chest and his cock pulsing hard under his touch. Sam seems to be struggling to stay calm and collected too, shoving his cock into you as deep as possible and still trying to bury deeper, a feeling Alex knows all too well. But before Alex can praise you for taking his friend so nicely, and to thank Sam for taking his time to fully appreciate you, your pretty face all scrunched up at the full feeling, mouth left open to let out huffs of air in an attempt to accommodate Sam’s length, Sebastian steals the show away from him.
As Seb bends down further in front of you, right before the sheathed cock in your cunt, his spread hands still straining to hold your legs up above his head, he tuts at you. A deep, condescending sound that turns Alex on just as much as it does you apparently, Sam wincing into the feeling of your tightening cunt. “I should’ve known such a dirty girl would want more, right?” He laughs, light enough to provide you with a false sense of security, but Alex can better hear the slight edge in his voice. It seems Sam can too, halting his movements briefly to provide Sebastian enough time to dive down to your cunt, his tongue immediately laying flat against your slit and by extension; the base of Sam’s cock too. A rough moan rises from Sebastian at the way your hips immediately buck up against his lips, and the sound vibrates across your cunt, a mix of whines and moans escaping both you and Sam in response. Alex can’t stop his fist from moving faster now, a snap up and down his fat cock in sheer desperation to watch the scene before him play out to its eventual conclusion. It’s hot. Too hot given the way he’s panting like a dog and things have barely gotten started. He’s not sure how he’s going to last the whole night.
Once you’re settled into the feeling of Seb’s tongue flicking up and down your cunt and Sam has finally remembered how to begin moving again, Alex offers you a tense good job before his eyes instinctively focus at your cunt. How wet and sloppy it looks with the addition of Sebastian’s saliva, watching said man come up off your cunt to ask in a brief moment of kindness “Is this okay?” only for you to quickly nod and for him to dip his head back down, this time focusing his efforts on your clit and occasionally offering Sam a quick lick as he fucks into you. Wet sounds fill the room, and Alex is thankful to spend the night alone with you like this. No one but you and his best friends left, and the sound of skin on skin. It’s bliss, and his cock is surely thankful too from how rigid it is under his strong grip.
Sam seems to be in a rush, too. Not that Alex is complaining, because he knows just how perfect your little cunt feels and how easily it is to lose himself in your tight heat. But there’s something in Alex’s core that stirs as he watches the earlier angel delve deeper into damnation with every greedy thrust, his feet planted firmly in the bed at either side of you while he easily manhandles you into position. Lifted only slightly off his cock so he can hammer into you from below, snapping his hips into your tight hole like his life depends on it. Desperate. Sam is beyond hopeless right now, driven only by his needs to cum inside of you and to make you feel good. Countless whines of his spill, almost as pitchy as your own, and Alex catches Sebastian referring to you both as sluts. He can’t deny that one.
“That’s it, fuck,” Sam sighs, though it’s more of a struggle to get out than one of relaxation, like it pains him to be feeling so good. The wet slap of his balls hitting your backside as he humps himself into you, bullying his cock into you over and over again, unable to prevent his hips from picking up speed with each fuck he makes; it prompts Alex to swallow thickly in an effort to remain focused. Because it’s difficult to do that when the sound of another mans name in your voice rings in his ears, and all it does is cause his hips to fuck upwards into his lonely hand on their own. “Doing so—shit, Seb, do that again—doing so good pretty girl.” Sam moans down your ear, face pressed snug to the crook of your neck for him to pant directly into as you’re fucked and sucked by yourr angel and demon friends.
And it seems Sebastian heeds Sam’s words well, returning to lick the entire length of your cunt, including Sam’s cock. Alex wonders if Seb can taste you on Sam, and his legs widen at the thought that he must. The state his friends have you in is astonishing, your hair all messed up and body shaking under the too much pleasure they offer you. Alex briefly ponders if you’re going to be able to last the night as he strokes himself to your ruin, and then he quickly moans when he realises that he doesn’t care. Sam’s praise of “Don’t stop, God don’t fucking stop—” despite pinning you so close to his body that you have no say in stopping or not as he fucks into you, and Sebastian’s degrading remarks of “Dummy, only knows how to get fucked, huh?” followed by light laughter at the way both you and Sam eagerly nod down at him, proves to be just as much an issue for Alex as it does for you, your body arching off of Sam’s front to prove just how good you feel. Even Alex feels his head spinning a bit, and all he’s doing is watching you bounce, his gaze catching sight of Seb’s ass every now and then and his throat drying up at the view of Sam’s slick covered cock.
He always knew that this would be a good idea. He’s been friends with Sam and Sebastian ever since he could remember, and though he’s aware of their closer than most bond, he’s never felt left out of the group. What better way is there to say thanks to them than: Here is my girlfriend, have fun. He trusts them both to take care of you, and to look after you well, and given the cute little whimpers Sam fucks out of you and the gasps for more Sebastian’s tongue forces you to make, he couldn’t be happier. Hand on his own cock, flipping the stupid costume over so that he can properly free himself and hissing into the air as he jacks himself off to the sight of you having fun. It’s so dirty, and he loves it.
It just so happens that as Alex feels a tightening coil in his tummy, the addition of added pressure courtesy of Sebastian’s tongue is too much for Sam to handle, which Alex finds more than adorable. How sweet both you and Sam sound together, moaning for each other in such desperation that he has to slow down fisting his own cock just to stave off the quickly approaching orgasm. It doesn’t help that he’s been waiting for this event since the month started, dealing with your drunken antics and watching you flirt all night in preparation. It’s only natural that he’s close, right? Forced to watch your tight cunt wrap so prettily around Sam, watching Sam fall apart inside of you with each frantic thrust he has you bounce into, and watching Sebastian enjoy himself just from eating you out and whispering inaudible filthy words against your cunt. The way you react is obvious enough, and Alex finds himself gently humping into his hand to mimic the act of sex with you as he stays patient on the sidelines, despite his attempt at slowing down. It’s just the effect you have on him, being unable to commit to stopping when you’re around.
“Perfect little pussy,” Sam moans, though it almost sounds like a beg from how strained his voice is. “Making me feel so good, yeah?” he continues, words as sweet as his ruined angel costume that’s been carelessly tossed to the side, covered in a mix of precum, your slick, and Sebastian’s saliva. “God— hope you feel good too—” Sam pants against you, and Alex wants to reassure him that you do, that the whines spilling from your lips with every thrust of his cock that he bullies up into you is evidence enough that he’s fucking you good, but his arm is too tense and his hand is too tight around his wet cock that all that tumbles from his mouth is a strangled groan.
In a final act of need, Sam grips your legs firmly, inadvertently pulling you away from Sebastian for just a moment before he gives chase to suck noisily at your clit some more, but Sam doesn’t pick up on it. For him, it seems his desperation has reached breaking point, and Alex eagerly sits at the edge of his seat with cock in hand to pump away at while waiting to see what Sam does next. A last ditch effort to prove himself with his head thrown back as far as it can because it feels too good inside of you at this new angle, the rasp of your moans when Sebastian hums against your slit causing Sam to stutter into you a few more times before he’s crying your name; an inappropriately sinful sound for an angel, and one that Alex struggles not to cum to as you match the pitch and broken tone with your own whimper. Sam continues to fuck into you despite how painful it must be out of sheer greed to milk himself dry as he cums inside your pretty hole, making it even prettier as some of his load seeps out from his inconsistent humps. Alex watches the leak with great greed, biting down on his lip and squeezing his cock at the base to hold himself back. It’s not his turn yet.
“Aw, look at her—” Sebastian coos, his tone anything but genuine. Sarcasm drips his words as he speaks against your clit, a short huff of laughter leaving him at the way you shiver into his harsh voice. “You look so dumb right now,” he continues, and Alex agrees, nodding along with Sebastian despite not being the recipient of such dirty words. “Fucked stupid already?” Seb tuts, followed by: “Good. It suits you.” Before he’s given you a chance to reply.
“Good job, babe.” Alex offers you as consolation, and though he wishes he could say more, he’s practically winded at the dazed and dumb smile you offer him in response. Oh how he wishes he could bury his cock in you already, chest tight with anticipation for his own turn at using you. At loving you.
And Sam, lagging behind, breathing heavily into a sigh from behind you. Sebastian, though rather unfair thus far, takes a moment to rub soothingly against your clit. Small and gentle circles with the pad of his thumb, knowing that you must be so sensitive and yet still not wanting you to feel neglected while Sam gathers himself and slips out of you, cum dripping down to stain Alex’s sheets white as you’re quietly left alone on the bed with Sebastian.
Recovering, Sam makes his way over to Alex and rests on the floor beside him, the two sharing a small smile at the prime viewing position. No words are exchanged, and Alex supposes that’s a good sign. His hand removes itself from his cock to take a breather too, edging himself just for you, for when his friends are truly spent and he can enjoy you when you’re most ruined. Because he already knows he isn’t going to last long, his cock trembling at the mere thought of being inside of you, eyes rolled to the back of his head to refocus when Sebastian drags a single finger from your hole to your clit, the reaction you offer being that of overstimulation. Sam fucked you well, perhaps a little too well given how ragged his breathing remains as he settles next to Alex, resting his messy bedhead on Alex’s knee, but his hard cock convinces him that it’s all part of the fun of the night.
It’s interesting to see the differences in how his friends act. How, where Sam is kind—yet often too energetic—Sebastian is… Well, the opposite. Mean and methodical. Making you work for his affections, and even then he barely gives you any. It’s fun watching you flounder under him, the tip of his cock pressing teasingly against your slit while you babble for something; whatever that may be seems to be turning the room on more regardless of how unintelligible you are. Just the needy tone of your voice is enough to get them going.
Due to your whimpered begging, Sebastian takes to slowly rocking his hips against your cum filled slit, his eyebrows scrunching at the easy glide Sam has offered him, and Alex clenches his fists in barely contained restraint when you try to buck your hips up to meet the mocking thrusts. “Greedy girl.” Sebastian reprimands, though still his thumb presses down on the base of his cock in preparation for pushing in. It seems he can’t quite control himself either, and suddenly Alex feels less bad about being so head over heels for you in this situation that he’s almost convinced to touch his cock again, but the feeling of Sam’s breath against his tip convinces him to pause for a moment. Forces his attention to switch from you so that he can stare between his thighs in a mix of shock and awe.
What greets him is an open mouthed Sam, tongue dangerously close to his cock as a fat bead of precum leaks and rolls down the length for his friend to immediately lap up, the feeling of which causes Alex to truly spiral. No longer can he withhold his need, his tummy flipping with how different but fucking good it feels to come into contact with something other than his hand on his rock hard cock.
The fact that Sam went down on him without asking, or really without thinking, stirs something deep within Alex. Instincts taking over the moment Sam pops the tip past his lips, the warm and wet feeling of a new tongue circling the slit; Alex is left simply with no control left. His hands lock on to Sam’s already messed up hair and he holds tight, treating the angel much rougher than he deserves as he’s all but forced down Alex’s cock. A soft gargle is ripped out of Sam, and it only spurs Alex on more. He can’t fully process how unfair he’s being to Sam with how taut his muscles are, full of his need to breed anything at this point thanks to your dirty display, and Sam looks so stupidly good when choking on cock that he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. And he doesn’t.
It’s almost painful to tear his eyes away from Sam as his body reacts intuitively. Every tug of Sam’s hair is matched with an impatient thrust of his hips, hoping to fuck his cock deeper into the tight throat enveloping him. It just feels too good to stop, and when he eventually gathers the willpower to look back at you, he almost cums on the spot. Has to force Sam’s head all the way down for a few seconds so as to not blow his load before he has his chance with you tonight.
Seeing you so submissive and bent over with Seb’s cock slowly dragging in and out of you isn’t what he’d expected already, but he’s not about to complain. A low wolf whistle filling the room that promptly turns into a winced moan as Sam takes the opportunity of distraction to move again, tongue flat against Alex’s cock and head bobbing at an increased speed. Sebastian looks over at the whistle, and smirks before proudly stating.
“Bitch in heat.”
With how dizzying Sam’s sucks are it takes Alex a moment to register the words completely, and even then he can’t tell who they’re really aimed it. Himself, with his hands locked in one of his best friends hair to guide him better down his cock, or you, bent over prettily and presenting your holes for another man. God— he wants to cum inside of you so bad. A reward for tonight, for performing so well and allowing his friends to experience your perfect little cunt. For moaning Sebastian’s name so cutely that even he himself responds with a curt gasp.
It only take a brief sigh later for Sebastian to start truly fucking into you, a stark contrast from his earlier slow teasing; brutal slaps once again fill the room and Alex has to look away for a few seconds in what looks like pained effort, but really it’s because he can easily imagine that it’s him that’s slapping his balls against you right now. That it’s him that’s making you cry silently, fists balled up tightly into his sheets as Sebastian refuses to hold back any longer.
Staying true to his discarded demon fit, he’s being mean. Treating you poorly, caring only for his own pleasure as his hips hump into you at a bruising pace. The wet squelch from the remainder of Sam’s cum fucked in and out of you, and the fact that you’ve been kept on edge since the night began has you dripping down your own thighs leaves Alex gasping, reaching one hand out to you in a want to soothe your erotic sounds, but he falls short as Sam swallows around his leaking tip again. Rendered useless by the angel between his legs, and left begging for more show by the demon fucking you up his bed. Disgusting. It’s so hot.
And just like the God he’s dressed as, Sam sucks his cock so well it’s got him light headed. He can feel his wreath slipping off his head from how eagerly Sam sucks him off, but he can’t care enough to fix it. Mind empty beyond the need to cum, indulging in the hedonistic pleasure between his legs while you’re fucked into the sheets. It’s getting increasingly difficult for his eyes to remain open on you, consistently rolled back into a grimace from how good he feels, but he catches sight of your teary eyed expression pleading at him and a soft please begged. For what? He can’t discern. But he’s glad Sebastian can look after you right now, watching through hazy eyes as he grabs hold of your pretty ass and spreads your cheeks open to gain more purchase, lifting himself up a little so that he can fuck you even deeper, resulting in rough and ragged sounds of Sebastian’s attempts to breathe, but Alex knows. He knows that your cunt feels too good to make sense of the situation, that Sebastian must be struggling to keep up his demonic display but now. It’s present in the way his face scrunches up every time he’s balls deep in you, how his hands slip from your ass with every pound and stretch he forces your hole to accept.
And yet still, he has time to taunt. A frankly condescending “You’re in no position to be begging, baby.” Is barked loudly at you, and Alex finds himself agreeing. Corrupted by Sebastian’s foul language, enticed into falling further from Godhood with every lap of Sam’s tongue, every throaty choke and gasp his fat cock fucks out of him. Be a good girl, and make his friends feel good, yeah? Nothing compares to the pride he feels with each gush of your cunt and sob fucked out of you.
What’s worse—or better, he quickly amends mentally—is that Sebastian isn’t even looking at you while bouncing your ass back against his cock. He has complete control over you, and he doesn’t so much as glance down at you. But rather, his gaze is locked on Alex, or maybe his cock, it’s difficult to differentiate with how hazy Alex’s vision is given the waves of pleasure that’s currently building in his tummy. All he can think about is how it feels too good to be watched like this, and how he can’t wait to love on you the second Sebastian’s unfair treatment stops. And yet, knowing that for the moment you’re nothing more than a hole to be fucked is enough to almost trip Alex up, tapping on Sam’s head in a plea for pause.
“Close?” Sam asks, but his throat is fucked raw and his voice is croaky and it prompts Alex to roll his eyes in sheer sexual frustration.
“Can’t help it.” Alex wearily laughs in return, confirming without confirmation that yeah, he���s close. Who wouldn’t be he thinks to himself as Sebastian thoroughly stretches your insides and repeatedly fucks Sam’s seed back into you. “It’s… I mean—” words fail him, swallowing thickly when he has a proper moment to take in the state you’re in, mind racing with thoughts of how he’s going to reward you for tonight.
But for right now, it’s up to Sebastian to exhaust you. Or, maybe to exhaust himself, given the fact that his thrusts are inconsistent and sloppy now, more a case of trying to ruin rather than actually doing so. Like he’s losing himself in the tightness of your cunt, his chest almost pressing into your back from how deep he tries to get inside of you, panting above your neck when his hips simply won’t stop.
And Alex is in love with the way your back dips to help Sebastian. How despite the croak in your voice you still show your appreciation by moaning, whining about how good it feels and responding to every nasty word that stumbles out of Sebastian’s mouth. Dirty girl this, needy cunt that.
Both Sam and Alex take to watching the scene unfold before them, Alex’s cock twitching and leaking some more while he waits his turn, willing himself not to touch his cock; because he understands that he hasn’t got much longer to wait.
From his holier than thou position behind you, Sebastian falters. In his chest is a heavy feeling, and Alex feels fortunate to watch the man fall apart, to see the downfall that you’re banned from viewing by way of Seb’s harsh hand on the back of your neck keeping your sobs muffled against the bed sheets, but he’ll have to tell you all about it later tonight. The way Sebastian trembles against you, how slicked up his cock is with cum, how his mean facade wavers the more he humps his cock into you like you were somehow uncorrupting him. Alex holds his breath while his cock dribbles precum when Sebastian teeters on the edge, evident from how his fucks gain a small amount more focus and precision until eventually; you’re receiving your second load of the night.
No amount of kind care has been given to you, from Sam’s misguided eagerness to make you feel good resulting in only serving himself, and Sebastian’s purposeful selfish attitude, Alex has to convince himself not to cum the moment he hears your upset sob. Filled with just as much frustration as it is enjoyment from having Sebastian fill you up from behind, burying himself as deep as he can and resting, letting his cock pulse inside of the deepest parts of your hole to empty against your cervix. And how pretty Sebastian looks when cumming too. Focused, a light sheen on his skin while he fills you up with soft huffs of air, brows furrowed and teeth clenched. It almost makes up for how his heart hurts to hear your annoyance over not cumming yet, but knowing his turn is next persuades him to wait. Let Sebastian play with you some more by forcing you to wait on his cock until he decides he’s done.
Another break swiftly follows for everyone to relax, Alex’s hand automatically tugging and playing with his cock lightly in fear of busting immediately if any more pressure is added, but he can’t not touch himself when Seb offers him an apologetic grin.
“Wow.” Sam half laughs, genuine joy present in his tone as well as his face. It’s only natural given the overtly lewd scene in from of them, and Alex nods too in response. Too afraid to talk, he wants to give you the space you need to calm down enough before he approaches.
Sebastian slowly slips out, wincing just as much as he’s sure you are while more cum flows out with him. Dripping down your legs, collecting in a pool under your cunt. Alex can see the way your legs shake from the stress you’ve endured tonight, and his heart skips a beat with how cute he finds it. “God, Alex, I—” Sebastian stumbles, but there’s an unmistakable smile on his lips.
“It’s all good.” Alex reassures, flashing a dopey smile too to communicate that he understands. Thanks.
“And you.” Sebastian lowers himself down to your level, off the bed now and crouching next to it. He allows you to turn your head to face him, and when you do so he pets your face so softly. “You done so well.”
Even from behind Sebastian, Alex can hear your sniffled thanks. All quiet and timid, but nonetheless genuine. Alex can’t imagine what you must be going through right now, but he assumes it must be much the same as him. Pure need to cum, and he wants to be able to provide you that.
Sebastian takes a step away from you and it’s all Alex needs before he’s climbing to the bed beside you, prompting you to lay down after such a draining experience and being careful not to overwhelm you too much. Hell, having Sebastian alone would be tiring enough, but to deal with Sam’s puppy excitement too in one night? He tuts reassuringly down at you, helping you reposition onto your back so that you can be as comfortable as possible while he rests back against his knees between your legs. Even if you agreed to the foursome tonight too, he’d still like to make sure you’re doing all right.
“Baby…” He coos at you, hovering above you as gently as possible, but he’s well aware of how hard his cock is from the way it stands almost upright against his abs, and how harsh his panting breaths are from needing to fuck you too. “I’m so proud of you, so proud.” He whispers, leaning over you to place tender kisses against your cheeks, leaving a trail along your tear streaks to show just how precious you are to him.
And it’s true. He loves you so much he’d like to destroy you too.
While his attention has been divided all night, now that he has you under him finally, he’s resolute to give you his full focus. Barely cupping your cheek while you shake, your legs automatically rising to better fit him between them. It’s unfair, he thinks. Not only how pretty you look when getting fucked, but how your body just acts without second thought. How stupidly hot it is to see you still asking for more, even if your legs tremble and your voice remains a constant whimper. At least this proves to him that you’re still consenting, and that you still want him. Something he didn’t realise he needed as much as he did until you willingly gave it to him. The pout you wear is too cute, and he has to fight with himself not to shove himself inside of you with reckless abandon. No, you deserve softness after such obscene treatment.
“Made everyone feel so good tonight, yeah?” He prompts you, heart fit to burst when you quickly nod up at him and flutter your eyes. “Time to make you feel good now, kay?” He promises you, because while he may be dressed as the God tonight, it’s you that he worships, and he’s more than excited to do just that.
The stupid costume he’s got on is easily removed in favour of matching your state of undress, a heavy sigh escaping him as he’s finally free of all constraints and his cock can stand tall and proud. To his side he hears some whistling and jeers, but he can’t even turn to look when he has you begging for him to enter below him. A tiny hand wrapped around the base of his cock, guiding him to your well used and abused hole: home. Even just the feeling of his friends mixed seeping cum coming into contact with his cock is enough to convince him to slowly push in, but it helps to hear your low whine as his tip pushes past your entrance too.
Immediately, relief washes over him. An almost overwhelming chill down his spine once he enters, so much so that he doesn’t stop slowly pushing until he can feel his thighs touch your ass. When he looks down to confirm that he’s fully entered—if your cute whines weren’t enough—he groans out at the cum that’s circling his cock. You’re so wet and sloppy, your cunt made such a mess thanks to his friends, and the feeling of their enjoyment lathering his cock up feels a bit too much to bear. Forces him to simply breathe for a few seconds while he’s inside you, warming his cock up despite your cries to continue.
“Shh, shh.” He hushes you, flinching into the way your cunt squeezes tighter around his cock despite the snug fit, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”
To prove his promise, he presses his thumb lightly against your clit and instantly drops his head low from how responsive you are, coaxed into letting his hips move and start a slow rhythm into you solely out of a want to perform well for you as you’ve done for everyone else tonight. In and out, letting you feel his whole length almost slip out of you before gradually pushing back in, coupled with soft smooth circles against your puffy clit. It’s enough stimulation for the both of you after such a long night, and though he’d love to go a bit harder, he hasn’t the heart to when you hum so sweetly into his touch. An unspoken thanks hanging in the air as he worships you, taking his time and paying special attention to your needs as he rests your heavy legs on his shoulders.
“Tired?” He asks, but his voice comes out as more of a whisper. For as feral as he’s felt today, actually getting to be the one inside of you now turns him soft. “It’s okay, you did so well baby. Let me look after you now.” He states, pleading for your acceptance of his adoration tonight. Let me love you, he asks with a swipe of his thumb. Let me show you how special you are, he begs with a buck of his hips. It’s what you deserve, he thinks, for being the best girl tonight and always. Just a little devotion, spoken clearly with every thrust, every stroke your cunt offers him. The least he can do is provide you with the release you so desperately need, and that you’ve earned by way of letting your hole be used.
A quiet hum escapes him as he melts into you, not daring to fuck you much faster than he already is lest he loses all control, focusing mostly on seeing you to your end, but all the mess and comfort of being inside your cunt is enough to have him on edge already too. He hadn’t expected to last very long given the whole day edging session he’s been on, and especially considering he’s just watched you get absolutely ruined by the only two other closest people in his life, so it’s no surprise that your perfect cunt has him this close already. And to be honest, he thinks he’d be able to cum even just by letting his cock rest inside of you at this point.
“Love you.” He sighs simply, eyes closing tightly to really feel the way your hole wraps around him, how it fits him perfectly, so slick and easy to glide into with the small humps he settles into. Not snappy, but purposeful. Because he knows all your spots, knows how to make you feel as good as you’re entitled to. “So proud of you tonight, babe. C’mon, you can do it.” He encourages you, admiration dripping his words from how pretty you look when on the cusp of orgasm, knowing that he’ll quickly follow you when you do eventually cum.
And he doesn’t have to wait long. The lazy but heavy thrusts he fucks into you and the tight precise rubs of his thumb against your clit are too much after the eventful night, and he can tell you’re close by the way you fall silent spare some rushed gasps and the keen shiver in your thighs. Still, he asks just to make you whine uh huh and then he doubles his efforts, picking up enough speed to make you bounce down on his cock as much as he fucks up, and letting his thumb grow careless in its strokes against you. Panting for each other like you were in heat, ignoring the other party in the room to solely focus on each other, like nothing else exists in this moment beyond each other. He feels your tell-tale squeeze, and then it’s over for him too.
As your back arches off the bed in what he can only assume is the best orgasm of your life, he wraps his arms tight around your midsection and humps into you like a dog, burying his head against your neck and groaning and moaning into your ear. He fucks you down against his cock while you cum around him, rolling his eyes at the vulgar sounds that escape your lips, pounding into your convulsing cunt until he eventually spills with you too, a rough growl quickly following at how soft and sensitive your insides are. And, truth be told, how delicate his cock feels too. Red raw and overstimulated in your too tight cunt, shivering into your nails as they claw down his back, picking you up into a tight hug while he continues to buck into you until he’s completely milked empty.
Though even then he keeps his cock inside your warm heat, holding you close to his sweaty body to whisper reassuring praise against you. Because you deserve it. Because you’re his, and he needs you to know it.
“Calm down, c’mon baby, breathe for me.” He huffs despite finding it difficult to catch his own breath. “It’s okay, you’re safe. It’s over now, promise.”
He continues hushed aftercare until you’re properly settled, cock still buried deep into your cum filled cunt in hopes of plugging it in. Behind him, he feels a hand against his lower back. He’s too tired to turn around and see the owner, but as he lifts his head regardless he can see Sam behind you, presumably giving you the same treatment.
“What a show.” Sam admits with a smile, eyes half-lidden and sleepy. It’s understandable, Alex can feel the same wave of exhaustion wash over him.
“You’re telling me.” Sebastian hums behind Alex, and you lift your head at the sound too, a satisfied smile on your face despite the tear stains on your cheeks. “Seriously, thanks. Both of you.” Seb follows up with, and Alex lets his head lean back to rest on his friends shoulder.
Fatigue overwhelms the room, and after a few drowsy minutes of just existing next to each other and Alex’s softening cock slowly slipping out of you until it eventually pops out, he’s reminded of the gross amount of cum painting… Well, pretty much everything at this point.
He groans as he sits up, his arms remaining wrapped around you to keep you safe and close to him. “We should all clean up.” He asserts, swinging his legs off the edge of his bed and waiting until he feels stable enough to stand without wobbling with you in his arms. Sebastian and Sam are quick to follow, and he makes a mental note to ask what they got up to when it was his turn with you. “But first, the princess.” He nuzzles into you, leaving loving kisses all over your face as he walks towards the bathroom with his best friends in tow.
Maybe tonight should become a new Spirits Eve tradition, much like his yearly house parties. He’ll bring it up tomorrow, because for tonight, he’d like to take care of everyone with the same respect he was given.
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undercoverpena · 7 months
Text
the angel + the devil
javier peña x f!reader | halloween fic for late night texts
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summary: “You may be dressed like that,” he says, dropping his voice “But I know how dirty your halo is.”
chapter warnings: bonus chapter to late night texts, although you can still enjoy without reading. fluff. halloween costumes. reader does wear a dress and heels. javi flirting. office party vibes. sexy talk, alluding to smut, but no actual smut or anything (similar to most of the chapters in the series) romcom vibes ofc ✨ wordcount: 2.4k
an: i still cant believe how beloved this little series is. i hope you like this little hallow-shot of my fave pairing.
text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi
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Don’t forget tonight is my works halloween party, if you’re still coming.
i haven’t forgotten baby
You say that but you forgot to bring milk the other day.
you told me you was wearing my shirt, naked
Thought high-pressured situations were your bag, baby.
well you do always know the way to bring me to my knees
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Pocketing his wallet and keys, Javi stares up at your work building.
He’s picked you up from work plenty of times, but he’s never been inside. Not like this, anyway.
Over breakfast, dinners and more since the two of you have been dating—and then living together—he’s managed to collect snippets of information.
Been able to make collages from the pieces you hand him—a picture board with ribbons and string connecting things, concocting an image of what things must look like. From the place the copier is to what your desk looks like.
Tonight, he’ll get to see it himself. He’ll have the chance to see the photo strip from Houston there, a little cactus plant you’d named Randy and a set of trays (all filled with paperwork) that he’d helped you find in town.
The rest though, was blank. All fuzzy in his mind.
A puzzle, one needing to be solved.
It’s why his finger and thumb brush against themselves as he steps through the doors, the instructions you’d given him illuminated on his phone. It’s easy enough, especially with the decorations up the stairs, hearing himself being called to by the distinct sound of the Monster Mash that is floating to his ears, guiding him to you.
Maybe, he should have texted to say he was here.
You’d be waiting for him then. Likely hovering at the doorway, looking somewhat lost and nervous—it brings back memories of scribbled-out signs and bubbling apprehension at the airport.
But, if anything, that’s why he doesn't text—doesn’t announce or tell you he’s parked up and climbing the staircase two at a time to see you.
Because Javi wants to see you, capture a sight of you across the room, and give you another romantic moment to add to the ones that make the both of you so “movie-like”.
Except, as soon as he steps through the last doorway, and his eyes land on you, he realises the moment isn’t for you, but rather for him.
His stomach flutters, fingers halting in their previous nervousness, stretching out as his head tilts. He takes you in—trails his eyes from the heel of your white shoes to the nervous finger-tapping you’re doing on the red cup, before he reaches your face—flecks of glitter, painted lips.
And fuck are you pretty.
You’re more than an angel. You’re something else entirely.
Ethereal, captivating, irresistible.
The mere sight of you making his throat dry and his heart quicken all over again, just like it had done outside that airport. Just like you had done from the first text to the see you later you left him with this morning.
He pinches his thigh, just lightly—because again, he’s left with the thought, the realisation: you chose him.
A reminder that is forever there. One he normally buries in gratitude against your lips, or clutches your hand—
You tiring from an ex-DEA agent yet, cariño?
Not even a little bit, handsome.
You’d chosen him because of text messages, fallen for him because of phone calls, and fell further in a hotel room miles away. Him doing the same, re-falling each day all over again due to moments he never thought he’d get to enjoy.
Simple things, like you sewing a jacket on his Pop’s coat to the way you listened when he finally told you everything that happened in Colombia. Your face not shifting, not until the end, not until you ended up in his lap telling him how proud you were of him.
Something he believed.
Somehow, though, a small part of him still expects this to be a dream. A cruel joke from life, because you’re way too good to be true. You’re nothing but kind, generous. Doing everything to remind him continuously how much he deserves you. That he’s good, worthy, amazing.
He’s about to clear his throat, announce his arrival, when your laugh dies at something one of your colleagues says. Then, he watches in slowed time how your eyes sweep—a thing he suspects you’ve been doing since way before he arrived—before landing right on him.
It forces his heart to skip.
A smile, different than the one you’d given to your colleague, spreads and flowers across your face—the fairy and ceiling lights not holding a candle to the way it brightens up the room.
He finds himself mirroring it, letting it unfold, grow, spread, sliding up into his cheeks as he watches you excuse yourself, placing your cup down on a desk before you rush over to him.
“Hey, handsome.”
“Look at you, angel.”
His fingers slide across his jaw, half-tempted to ask you to twirl—witness how the white dress skims your knees, trailing his eyes up and down, drinking you in all over again.
If you mind, you say nothing, although he imagines your cheeks will be warm if he touches them. Your eyes dropping, fingers moving, sliding to adjust the straps of your feathered wings, before touching up the headband with your halo attached—the one he’d watched you glue the other night, tongue out, teeth perched near the tip.
“I’m glad you came.”
“You asked, cariño. Por supuesto que vendría por ti.”
Shrugging, you smile, shifting on your feet. “I know, but you still came, dressed as… wait—what are you dressed as?”
Putting his palms up at the side of him, he grins. His head dips, eyes following your path over his dark jeans and red shirt, as his fingers slide to his back pocket—pulling out a headband with little horns on, placing it on top of his head.
“A devil.”
“Of course,” you say, sliding your arms around his neck. “Very fitting.”
Smirking, he traces his teeth with his tongue, letting you stare at him in the same way he had been you, until you move closer, sliding your arms around his neck. Basking in the way you kiss him, so softly—almost innocently—but with a hidden agenda underneath you can’t display too much of in the centre of your workplace.
But, he still feels the tip of your tongue sweep over his bottom lip—even if to others it’s just a chaste kiss. He knows that in the back of your throat, there had been a little hum growing—the one he pulls from you when he greets you at home, when the decision to eat or “nap” first arises.
“You may be dressed like that,” he whispers, dropping his voice, mouth to your ear as he hugs you. “But I know how dirty your halo is.”
Stepping back, he watches as his words force your lips to part. You battle a smirk, toying with it, chewing it, before displaying an eye roll.
Then, Javi feels you slide your hand into his, bodies so close to being flush, your breath doing a dance over his jaw and neck.
“I think we can make it dirtier. Can’t we?”
Pausing, he tilts his head, brow arching—watching you just smirk, far more devilish than angelic.
And, Javi suddenly wishes his jeans weren’t as tight as they are.
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where have you gone, one of your colleagues is eyeing me up
Well, maybe you should try being less good looking.
funny
I’ll be one second, got caught coming out the bathroom by someone from finance.
do you need rescuing
You gonna throw me over your shoulder?
if i do that i’ll be carrying you home
This is why you’re the devil and I’m the angel, my thoughts are pure.
if I put my fingers between your thighs i bet your body says otherwise
Javi!
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Handing him a cup, you tap yours against his, shooting a wink.
He doesn’t miss the way you eye him—not at all in a way different to the one he’d been getting from your colleague earlier.
“¿Te estás divirtiendo?"
Sliding closer to him, you press a kiss on his cheek. Angling yourself, the front of your dress moving, shifting, forcing his eyes to drop to where some of the glitter has fallen across your collarbone and cleavage.
“Such a bad girl.”
Smirking, you take a sip. “Angels don’t just fall from heaven for anything, or anyone, Javi.”
There’s a retort brewing—readying on the tip of his tongue—but someone approaches. A snort escapes you before they call your name.
He’d met so many of the people he’s heard things about—having been able to stitch faces to names, to hear their actual voice, and not the one you adopt when you’re telling him stories about your day. But this person's name doesn’t come to him with ease, nodding, agreeing it was lovely to meet them too.
Javi listens to you wish them a good weekend, hugging them, your wings brushing against his side as you do.
Then, the two of you are alone once again.
The whole night, between speaking to people, the two of you have traded in whispered angel and devil jokes—deviousness coming to him with ease, your eyes sparkling, somewhat twinkling as you hear each of them. Sometimes, your retorts silence him, rendering him useless—forcing you to slide more in front of him, his fingers digging into your hip.
Fuck, he wants you on his lap now.
More so, as the punch thins out and the party dwindles—some excusing themselves for home, for better offers or fraternisation with other departments—and the two of you are left him to a corner.
We can go soon. If you want?
Your eyes meet his, hands stroking up and down his arm—soothing, calming, genuinely wanting him to choose.
We can go whenever you want.
The two of you standing, his hip flush with yours, the scent of your perfume doing a swirl in his nose, watching as you smirk against your cup.
It’s hard not to feel that familiar surge inside him as he watches your lips. Because he never tires of you, is never bored of just admiring and observing.
“What you thinking about, cariño?”
The look you shoot him is one of pretend innocence. He can tell. He’s become an expert in you—both in the subtle shifts in your expressions and the way your body talks to him.
“Just thinking, that if I’d thought about it more, you could have come as a pencil and I could be your crossword,” you smile. “Y’could have spent the evening filling me in then.”
He’s mid-drinking when it hits him, making him choke, and splutter.
Your smirk rises as you bring the cup to your lips. “Two can play that game, Peña.”
“Touché, baby.”
For a moment, he lets you be smug.
Let it grace across your features, teeth peering out, eyes twinkling under the unflattering fluorescent light—that you still manage to look stunning under.
“Or, I could have come as a vampire,” you continue, eyes averting, a smirk desperate to grow, “I am really good at sucking.”
He almost crunches the cup, his head tilting, eyes burning into you as his brain fills with thoughts—ones that almost ravage him. Smother over the purer ones he keeps forcing himself to manifest, innocent things he’s yanked up so he doesn’t get a hard-on in the middle of your work office party.
Because you’re dressed as a fucking angel.
“Did you want to see my desk, baby?”
“Is it far?”
Shaking your head, you drain your cup, placing the empty in a nearby trash bin as you offer your hand. Leading, guiding him, pointing out little things that offer some clarification to stories he’s listened attentively to when the two of you have eaten.
“It’s just in here,” you announce, pointing to a closed door before the two of you enter.
As soon as the door clicks shut, his palm is against the wall—caging you in, his body close. Your laugh light, airy, brushing over his face as your fingers slide up his cheeks.
The two of you are flush, but not so harshly against the wall to crush your wings. He wants them intact, needs them to be there later.
“You like my costume, baby?”
He groans, tightening his grip on your waist. The light from the hallway splays across your face—illuminating your eyes as you stare up at him. Noticing the usual flecks of lust and need that swirl whenever the two of you are like this.
“You thinking innocent thoughts, cariño?”
“Not even a little bit.”
Your fingers tangling into his hair, his hips light in their efforts to press you against the wall. The air tightening, anticipation building, and building. It all layering, more so as his fingers drop, tracing under the hem of your dress.
His lips curl, the tip of his tongue dragging across his lower lip. “I like your office.”
“Bring back memories for you?”
Snorting, he grins. “No. I didn’t… I didn’t do that.”
“You want to?”
He considers it. More so when your lips slant back across his, when you whimper lightly when the kiss deepens.
Javi traces his finger over your thigh, half-tempted to slide it further up, skate it over whatever fabric you’ve chosen to wear between your thighs.
But he stops himself, halts.
Instead, he slides his fingers back under your chin, tilting it up. “Rather take you home. To our home.”
He watches as your smile curls up, lips pursing, eyes flicking down before meeting his. “Take me home then.”
Your fingers lightly flutter along his cheek, the top of your nails scraping gently against his skin, into the hair above his ears.
“Not to be a devils advocate, but we don’t have to wait until we get home, do he?”
Smirking, he lets a soft laugh exit under his breath.
“Seven letters,” you whisper, teasing his hair in your fingers, “Highest point.”
He kisses you. Pressing his smirk against your lips, feeling yours emerge as he does.
“You’re a real fallen angel, aren’t you?”
Snorting, you slant your mouth over his, likely wanting one more before the sea of goodbyes and see you in a week have to be said.
“Fallen straight into you, though. No regrets from me,” you add.
Pressing a kiss to your lips, Javi mumbles, “Not from me either.” Hands sliding around your waist, stealing another moment. “Need you to keep the halo on.”
Tilting your head, you pull from his lips. Breaths dancing, shared between the two of you.
“Wanna see how long it takes until I can fuck it off your head, cariño.”
Grinning, your tongue sweeps over your bottom lip. The slightest of head shakes. “Think you knocked the real one off my head ages ago—when you made me moan your name down the phone.”
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an: if you have any ideas of what our pairing can get up to, let me know. i can't promise I'll always write them, but you never know.
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How is no one talking about Jamie’s dad right now??
In a show that’s ostensibly about forgiveness, there were two notable exceptions until s03s10: Rupert (aka The Devil) and James Tartt Sr. (aka that abusive piece of shit). And we were OK with those exceptions, because their actions really do seem unforgivable.
But then the show takes “everyone deserves a second chance” to an extreme, because they really mean EVERYONE.
Not just the woman who hired to as an elaborate scheme and set up up for failure.
Not just the man who wrote an article outing your mental health issues to the world.
Not just the man who shared said mental health issues with a journalist in the first place.
Not just the man who stole your car after you took him in.
But also the serial cheater who bought a whole ass football club just to antagonize his ex wife. If he is willing to apologize and work on himself, he deserves forgiveness. Doesn’t mean Rebecca has to take him back, but they both get to live their lives without hatred weighing them down.
And also the abusive father who was still hurting his son as recently as last year. Now, let me be clear on this, Jamie doesn’t EVER have to repair his relationship with his dad. Even if his dad is clearly getting the help he needs and comes out of that facility a changed man. But he can let go over his hatred and they can both move on.
Forgiveness doesn’t mean taking back the person who hurt you (although it does allow that). It means setting you both free of that hurt.
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2-dsimp · 1 month
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love that story with Rivius, and it made me feel like he would be the type to think he is dominant person in bed that he would try to act like he is in charge and in control, but would be a crying begging mess as y/n rides him and edges him on because he's a bratty sub instead.
PS all your characters look so cute and I love your work.
『Featuring your Yandere Archdevil being a needy entitled bastard』
———-;————-;———;
Cw: Fem! Reader, NSFW MDNI 🔞
———-;————-;———;
Rivius: “Do that treacherous movement again and I won’t hesitate to fuck out any and all indication of your blatant disobedience until it’s completely ridden from your pretty head.”
He was referring to you pulling away from his sacred needy kisses against your lips since he craved intimacy. The feeling of your stuttering breaths and whines underneath his frantic thrusts against your gushing honeypot. Gave The Archdevil the ultimate high in all his years of livelihood.
Y/n: “But Rivi please, I literally can’t breathe when you’re—“
Rivius: “Then you’ve no choice but to suffocate. Don’t worry I’ll resuscitate you, but from now on you’d better not ever pull away from me again, understood?”
All in all Rivius is a selfish devil who doesn’t care if he’s stealing the literal air from your lungs. Via shoving his serpentine tongue down your throat, you were his attendant so he expected you to act as such and bend over backwards to cater to all his dire needs. Which meant that you’d better pucker up and give him his damned smooches or else consequences would await you.
———-;————-;———;
I wouldn’t classify Rivius as a bratty sub but as a bratty dom switch although he does have his moments where he loves getting it handed to him. He wouldn’t dare to admit it~ lowkey giving a power struggle dynamic. (^з^)-☆
And thank youuu o(^▽^)o
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bitethedevil · 12 days
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Am i delulu or does raphael admire tav/durge? I know its him performing, but as gale says "inviting to dine with devil is devils equivilant of serenade and roses" and first scene where we meet him he does eye tav/durge througly from bottom to top. Also he says "im fan of your work" to durge. So idk?? It lowey feels like raphael is fond of us in game but i need proof/ professional analysis. [Ahem you are the professional mouse afterall heehee~]
He Loves Us, He Loves Us Not: What is Raphael’s Relationship with Tav/Durge?
*Puts on my little mouse glasses* I’m glad you asked. I’m summing up a few points that I have also written about in another analysis called ‘Raphael and weaponized mortality’, so if that sounds interesting, you can find it in my reading list.
Everything about Raphael screams wolf in sheep’s clothing (or a cambion in man’s clothing if you will). Here are a few points illustrating this:
Cambions naturally have a really predatory kind of stench to them because they are entirely carnivorous. Yet, he is described as a perfumed trickster who smells of cherries and sulphur, most likely because he is trying to cover up that smell.
Poetry, an art that is very dependent on nasty mortal concepts such as ‘feelings’, is something we know he uses a lot. He’s not really good at it and he even says it’s not his ‘main interest’ to Karlach in the second act. His theatrical nature and use of poetry humanizes him, and I think he is well-aware of this.
When you call him out as a devil in front of Mol, he says something about how she wouldn’t believe them anyway, ‘not with his angelic complexion’. We also know that Gortash’s parents sold him to a ‘warlock’ and that’s how he ended up with Raphael. I’ve seen multiple places that that warlock is supposed to be Raphael himself.
Now this all makes me believe that he usually does not reveal his true nature to his clients unless: 1) they’ve already signed, or 2) they are so utterly fucked that they have already reached the point of no return with him and are forced to take his deal no matter what.
Yet, he reveals his true nature to us from the get-go. Yes, one could argue that the tadpole-gang does fulfill option 2) according to him and that’s why he does it, but I think it could also be something else. I think he knows from early on that we are his best bet, so he chooses to lay out all his cards on the table and tries to build as much trust as he can from the beginning.
This is also the function of helping us with Astarion’s scars. Dealing with a devil when you’ve never dealt with one before? Scary. Dealing with a devil when he has proven once before to keep his word? Much less scary. He’s ‘grooming’ us for trusting him to keep his word with THE deal (and he gets to fuck over Daddy Meph by potentially robbing him of a lot of souls. Win-win.)
I think Gale is right on the money when he says that it’s ‘a devil’s equivalent to serenades and roses’. Raphael is like a bird or something. He’s showing off, charming us, but also reminding us that he is big and scary. Although despite the fact that he is big and scary ‘he simply wants to help us’.
He’s done his research and already knows everything about us, so he knows exactly how to play us. This is demonstrated in the comment to Durge in the beginning and the thing he says in Last Light if you tell him he knows nothing about you: “Don’t I indeed?.
I really think that we turn into an obsession for him at some point and that the lines between the obsession about the Crown and his obsession about us blurs. This seems definitely to be the case in his journals. I mean the poor guy has nightmares about us…
I also am so sure that he is not even trying to trick us into anything with the Orphic Hammer. He truly does believe that the Emperor is a threat to us. See this:
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I DO think he admires us or at the very least is heavily rooting for us. I don’t remember the exact quotes, but Korrilla tells us in Sharess’s that her and Raphael made a bet about if we would make it to the Gate, and Raphael won that bet because we had. He really believes in our merry little band of idiots.
His reaction if we betray him is also very telling I feel like. Notice how his eyes widen for a moment before they narrow and say the ‘You’ line. He seems surprised. In that whole sequence he is obviously pissed, but most of all I also just get the feeling of a man that has been humiliated and who is angry that he had put so much time, work, and trust into us.
He says that ‘he is fond of us, in his way’ and that I completely believe. It might not be out of love or affection or anything like that, but he is as fond of us as a cambion can be of someone. We’ve grown on him, and he sees potential and use in us. We fascinate him and I’d even go as far to say that he respects us. I feel like even if you give him the Crown of Karsus and he gets to rule the Hells, he will not forget the people who brought him there. He would not flaunt the fact that he had mortals help him get the Crown, but I think that when he goes on his spree to fuck up the realms outside the Hells, Tav and gang would at the very least be spared or even given privileges in that new world order. Is that a bit fucked up? Yeah…But we have to remember what he is: a devil.
(Thank you so much for the ask <3 That became a long answer. I love to yap lol)
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