#nature is fucking rad

[sixrealmsbeneaththesea]

Saving this silly lil baby from being crushed in the mail at work will be the only reason I could call this a good day.

Praise the hummingbird moth. Maybe I will draw a thing to honor it~

I know my hands are dry. Fucking with cardboard and plastic all day sucks the moisture out of them.

#deletion pending #note to self #nature is fucking rad

[wecassidy]

This is cool as hell:

~1.7 billion years ago, there was probably a naturally occurring nuclear reactor in Oklo, Gabon! And we can use its remains to check if the fine-structure constant (part of the standard model of particle physics) has changed since the reactor was active!

#nature is fucking rad #nuclear power #and also #particle physics #and #geology #all in one #science rules

[dykedragons]

actuallyyyy heres a wip shot of this zbrush sculpt i have going for class!! i still have that entiiiire dragon to model (by next week... along with a bunch of other stuff.... heourgh) but my whole pedestal is done and lookin stellar. had soooo much fun doing all the coins and jewels with nanomesh :3c

#had.... LESS fun doing the basalt pillars but it wasnt so bad!! #i did one chunk and cloned it! thankfully u cant really tell that i just cloned the same chunk... it all looks pretty natural #the rock i just sculpted mostly with clay tubes and loooots of noise filters. it looks volcanic which is good #not entirely what i was going for but it is servicable #one of my friends suggested i do the basalt pillars and that was based as fuck it looks really rad #my art

[redscarfconnoisseur]

Just saw some massive untagged Dungeon Meshi spoilers on Twitter so I'm back to refusing to use the platform and wanting to burn it to the ground tbh.

#I fucking hate when people feel the need to go out of their way to spoil things just because it has a new adaptation out #sure do wish I could have discovered that spoiler naturally by just watching but we can't have nice things #Rad Rambles

[ghoulphile]

sticky fingers | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; mildly dubious consent, dirty talk, degradation kink, fingering, squirting, rough sex, size kink, standing doggystyle, overstimulation, teasing, choking, dacryphilia, cooper howard is his own warning (he nasty y'all), canon compliant - takes place around ep 7, a grab bag mix of the show and the games ➥ summary | “Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal.” ➥ notes | i love my men like i love my beef jerky 🫠 i wrote this over 16 fevered hours after finishing the finale. hope you enjoy~ minor edits 4/22/24 | x posted to ao3 | feedback is always appreciated ❤️ feel free to send in thots, questions, requests!

It begins, as most things in the Southwest Commonwealth do, with a fight for survival.

City life is tough to be sure, but here on the outskirts of pocket civilizations where there’s nothing but long stretches of desolate wasteland - arid, sunbaked earth and scorched shrubbery - for miles around?

Well, if the ferals, fiends, and super mutants don’t get you in the night, then the desert itself will. During the day the sun burns overhead so nuclear hot, heat glimmers on the horizon in dancing waves.

Unforgiving, relentless as blink-and-you-miss-it mirages are swallowed by ever shifting sands.

It’s easy to get lost.

Even easier to boil alive in your armor if you’re unprepared.

Far too many travelers from the Eastern Commonwealths have met their demise here, where shade is sparse, and water even moreso. The rain - if it does blow in over the mountains - brings rad sickness.

If you’re lucky enough to still be alive, the only reprieve from the heat is in the stooped bones of bombed buildings and ramshackle shacks... where you're just as likely to catch a knife in the back from a chem fried addict as you are relief.

Because here, in the Wastes, danger lurks in sand and shadow alike.

You don’t trek out into the flats half-cocked: a fact all locals know. And if you do decide to? Well, you learn one way or another.

No, only the truly ignorant - or the desperate - dare to tempt man and nature.

Consequently, as you dust off the crumbs from the last half of a Fancy Lads Snack Cake and suck a melted smear of icing from your thumb, you're of the latter half.

You tried holding off for as long as you could. But once the shakes started, you knew you couldn’t put off eating lest you pass out and wake up in a slaver camp.

Well, shit, you think as you rattle a dented canister of purified water. This fucking sucks.

Almost going cross-eyed, your tongue hovers under the rim as you watch the last lazy drop fall free. You catch it with a grimace, smacking your lips. The water tastes metal warm in your sour mouth, barely enough to wet your whistle - let alone your thirst.

You began rationing the last of your supplies days ago, and it’s been a battle against light-headedness ever since. Pretty soon you won’t have the strength to defend yourself, scavving be damned.

Come on. Think - gotta think. What can I scrap for caps?

Not only is Filly more than half a day away, Ma June isn’t one for charity cases. The fact she offered twenty extra caps last time for some burnt books and bent bobby pins was as close as you were ever going to get to a Wasteland miracle.

Sunken cheeks and pleading eyes can only get you so far; everyone’s gotta eat.

"Fuck..." The palms of your hands grind into your eye sockets until you see stars. "FUCK!"

There are two unspoken laws in this otherwise lawless land: steal or starve, live or die. A grim reminder that surrounds you in old bleached bones, empty bullet casings, and scraps of cloth fluttering in the breeze.

Someone always has to be top dog. If you’re lucky, they might be willing to share their spoils.

It’s as you’re considering what pieces of yourself you’re willing to barter that you see them. On the horizon, coming from the west, are two dark blobs.

Stark against the flat plains - a shining beacon of salvation - is a man in a ratty duster and cowboy hat. The saddlebag tossed over his shoulder bounces with his steps while a dog trots beside him, its sable coat rippling with muscle.

Pay dirt.

Making sure to keep low and distant, you stalk them. Watching, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

When the sun dips low, the sky a swath of pale pink and gold, they make camp at a blown-out Drumlin Diner. Off in the distance, thunder rumbles and sickly clouds gather.

Dark and roiling, acid green; a Radstorm brewing.

Electricity cracks at your skin, stands your hair on end. You scrub your hands over your arms, huddling into yourself for warmth. Meanwhile, the stranger seems to luxuriate in the budding promise of rad rain.

He lounges under an awning, his back pressed against a defunct Nuka Cola fridge. He gazes in the direction of the oncoming weather while mindlessly running his fingers through the dog’s fur as it curls up against his legs.

Occasionally, its ears twitch, and its eyes crack open.

Whenever it glances in your direction, you hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut but it never gives any other indication that it notices your presence.

A small mercy you’re thankful for.

While you’re a pretty good shot, your body is weak with hunger. Besides, you have quick hands and light feet. There’s no doubt you can stealth your way in and out before he realizes his pack is lighter than he left it.

You’ll only take what you need - not interested in causing any more trouble than is necessary. Some food, maybe something to drink if he can spare it, and something to pawn. Just enough supplies to get you sorted in Filly.

Anyway, he certainly isn’t hurting for it by the look of things.

Any guilt you felt was short-lived when he settled down after dropping his pack inside, walking out with an inhaler of Jet in one hand and a can of Cram in the other.

Watched, greedy, as he cracked it open and picked at the tin of meat with lazy fingers. Salivated as he sucked them clean in between deep pulls of chem.

Soon, you decide, licking your lips as he chews, swallows. Soon.

However when push comes to shove, the stranger proves far more keen than you give him credit for.

The world spins like a hit of Daytripper, a kaleidoscope of color as your skull bounces off the wall with a loud crack. Air rushes from your lungs as something huge - hot and heavy - slams into you from behind.

Pins you against the wall with ease as your ears ring.

Something rattles loose; your teeth too large and your tongue too thick. Warm metal floods your mouth as the side of your face throbs in time with the rabbit fast stutter of your heartbeat.

Pain sparks and your stomach rolls.

"Wha's?" you slur, thoughts dripping like wax. "Wh-at's..."

Meanwhile, a gloved hand lassos around your throat like a collar. Brute fingers squeeze the tender flesh of your jugular until you hear your pulse in your ears. Senses struggling - sluggish to adjust in the encroaching night - as tiny cavities eat at your vision, little pockets of darkness.

“Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal," a gruff voice mocks. “Betcha thought you was real slick, huh? Tch. You ask me, you’re dumber than shit, Darlin'.”

Trying to regain your bearings, you shake your head only to groan. “I don’t - ‘m not -” It’s difficult to concentrate, a throbbing tempo taking up residence in your temples. The words come slow. “Wha’d you mean?”

He whistles, long and low-pitched, "D’ya have any idea who you're fucking with?"

“N-No…”

“How’s about I show you, then?”

Warm breath puffs over the shell of your ear, a tongue sliding out to trace along the lobe. You jolt, squirming in discomfort as he crowds closer.

“Tasty lil thing like you, wrapped up all nice and pretty just for me." He chuckles. "Why, it must be Christmas.”

What the hell is he talking about?

It’s hard to breathe with his heavy weight suffocating you; the scent of gunpowder and bitter smoke clogging your nostrils with every labored inhale. His lips - ragged - scrape over the nape of your neck.

The grip on your throat squeezes once, twice; leather sticks to your sweaty skin.

You squint your sore eyes, taking in the faint flickers of firelight that spill through the open doorway. The desert chill of night has settled in, creeping through the busted out windows to dig beneath your padded armor.

Thunder rumbles directly overhead as lightning follows in flashes of acid green. It’s only a matter of time before sheets of rain come pouring down; the air sticky with humidity, trembling with energy.

The Radstorm has finally arrived.

You’ll undoubtedly get sick if you leave the shelter of the diner - might even die from it if you can’t afford or find any RadAway. But as the stranger’s chest digs into your shoulders, and the dog curls up in the corner - uncaring of your plight as its nose tucks into the whip-thin tail - you think you’ll take your chances.

Tilting back to glance at him from over your shoulder through damp eyes, you say, “Look--”

Only his hand moves, viper quick, as it slides from the front of your neck to the nape. Strong fingers clamp down like a vice, like scuffing an unruly dog.

He grinds your face into the wall, rough metal shredding your cheek.

You cry out, a soft, pained little thing that echoes through the empty diner.

“Now why’d you gotta go an' make me do that?”

A phantom glimpse told you all you needed to know; broad jaw, thin lips, a hollow nasal ridge, creeping radiation burns and cracked skin. Ghoul.

“Let’s try this again, Sugar.”

His free hand - sans glove - creeps over the curve of your hip to splay along the swell of your belly, fingers tucking up under the hem of your shirt. You shiver at the stroke of roughened skin.

“Don’t take another peep or I might jus' have ta pluck out those pretty eyes of yours.”

Dread pools low in your gut, a leaden ball.

Everything in you screams: RUN, RUN, RUN.

Alarms blare but you freeze. Stare straight ahead at the featureless wall, eyes wide and unseeing. Through the foggy mire of your thoughts - half formed and shapeless - you have enough presence to understand the precarious nature of your position. 

Heart hammering, you plead for mercy, “Please, I’m - I’m sorry.”

"Aw, ain't that real sweet?" He remains impassive, unmoved. "The little thief does got some manners after all."

Without warning, the sharp toe of his cowboy boot kicks apart your feet. In the ensuing empty space between your thighs, his leg slots into place. Spurs dig into the tender meat of your ankle, little kisses of pain, as his hips rut forward against your ass.

You choke on your spit, pulse jumping in your throat.

"H-Hey, that's..." You attempt to shove at any part of him you can reach to no avail. Built and broad with compact muscle, it's like trying to move a brick wall. "I said I was sorry, okay!"

He ignores you, burying his face into the space behind your ear. A deep inhale sounds next to your head, the expansion of his chest against your back so firm you're not sure you won't fuse together.

The whiskey rough groan he releases does wicked things, makes your mind wander to places it shouldn't. Full of grit and gravel as his cock twitches against your backside, a burning line of heat.

A shiver ricochets down your spine.

He grunts, says, "Mm, you smell good enough ta eat."

The cap of his knee nudges up against your clit with a sudden jolt, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and a sob threatens to scrape its way up from the depths of your throat.

You swallow, mouth desert dry. "Come on, let's just forget all about this, yeah?" you reason. "No harm done. I'll even give you whatever I've got left so - so..."

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, the vibration rattling through your chest. "So?" he prompts, plucking at the waistband of your trousers.

"So let me go?"

"Now why would I go an' do an asinine thing like that?" he replies. "If you think you can buy your freedom, think again, Sweetheart."

Rain pings off the metal roof, the smell of pungent ozone and rusting metal wafting in through busted windows and open doors.

“'Sides,” he pauses to turn your attention outside, “I’d hate ta have you yakin’ before the fun’s even started.”

There’s no way to misconstrue his meaning when he punctuates the statement with a teasing rut of his hips. Those rugged fingers tug open the clasp of your trousers, yank until the material goes slack and pools around your ankles.

“Hey, wait--!”

You jolt, hands scrambling for purchase as he slides his leg against your core. The friction of his pants through your thin cotton underwear makes you ache.

Ripping through your bottom lip, blood beading to the surface, you choke on a high-pitched whimper. "I..."

There's no way he can't feel your reaction.

How quickly you're getting wet as he drags you along the length of his thigh while yanking your hips back into the cradle of his pelvis. You meet him in a slow grind that boils your blood and steals the breath from your lungs.

It’s been - shit - far too long since you’ve felt anything other than hunger, thirst; the animal drive to keep pushing forward.

"You like this, don'tcha?"

You hear the dagger-sharp smile hidden in his words.

He croons, "What would your fellow smoothies think, huh? Here you are lettin’ a ghoul get you all hot n bothered - and you’re lovin’ it. Ain't you?"

You throb in response, heat stealing its way into your cheeks as you turn your head away in shame. His dark chuckle lets you know he felt the squeeze of your thighs, the rock and dip of your hips against his knee.

"I - I don't..." you stutter, struggling for a retort. “I’m not--”

A tremble works its way through your body, crushed as you are between the rad warm burn of his body and the wall. Completely at his mercy as you try to figure out where it all went wrong and what you can do to worm your way out of this one.

Terrified of what'll happen if you stay, terrified of what'll happen if you go; stuck in limbo as what was meant to be a simple grab-and-dash devolved into this confusing cluster of shame and lust.

You loathe the embers of desire kindling to life low in your belly.

"You really outta start bein' more honest, Sweetheart."

A large hand dips beneath the worn band of your underwear, and you wait with baited breath. Helpless as calloused fingertips brush over the swell of your mond.

Your inner thighs are uncomfortably sticky with slick, and your eyes burn in humiliation. Your throat trembles around all the words you want to say.

"Didn't anyone teach you lyin' was bad?" he asks rhetorically as his fingers slip down to play with the swollen bud of your clit, tapping lightly.

You keen, low and wounded.

Short nails dig into your palms as you flex your hands for want of something to grab onto.

“I am being honest,” you bite out through grit teeth. Sweat dapples your furrowed brow. “Just lemme go, please.”

"I find that hard ta believe," he replies. "Sorry to say, but you're shit at lyin'. Just look how hungry your lil cunt is for me."

It’s the only warning you get before those long digits plunge deep inside, two becoming three as they stretch you wide. Hollow you out; knuckles massaging your entrance as the tips prod along the sensitive front wall of your cunt.

You clamp down with a strangled moan. “Shit!”

This is a horrible idea - but it’s been forever and a day since you’ve felt anything other than your own touch.

Whether it be the bone-deep loneliness you’ve been shoving down for months or the sudden, inexplicable need for contact, you long for a reminder that you’re still alive.

That you’re not some wrath of the Wasteland filled with sand and blood, doing whatever it takes to survive in a place that would rather see you fail.

“I - I’m not sure.”

He snorts but offers no council or reassurances, using his free hand to yank at the back of your head in impatience. While it might’ve been a fairer fight if you weren’t in such bad shape, there’s no denying that he’s proven himself to be more adept.

Stronger, quicker.

This is going to happen either way.

And that turns you on - even though you feel like it shouldn’t.

If you give in, if he forces you to give in, it’s not really your fault then, is it? You can enjoy it because you have no choice.

Fuck it, you think, closing your eyes and tilting your head to the side in submission.

Like a doll with cut strings, all the fight drains from your body and you’re left sharing space. The ghoul is a furnace of heat behind you, barely any space to breathe he’s crowded so close.

His cock thickens where it digs into the soft fat of your ass, as large and intimidating as the man himself. “Now stay still for me.”

The or else goes unspoken.

Then he’s stepping away, a rush of cold air filling the empty space at your back.

You shiver, tempted to turn around. Maybe make a run for it. The only thing stopping you is the awareness that his threats aren’t so idle. In your experience, it’s far better to befriend the monster than to anger it.

So you comply, waiting an eternity as your senses strain to pick up on anything other than the murmuring hush of rain, the rumble of thunder, as the Radstorm continues to blow its way through.

Though just when you think he might’ve left, ready to chance moving, you hear the clink of a belt buckle clicking open. The scuff of boots across the linoleum before broad hands shove up under your shirt, scarred palms bare as they settle on your hips.

You tense before forcing yourself to relax.

“You ain’t as stupid as I thought,” he says. “Good girl.”

A test.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I can listen,” you mumble, keeping calm as his hands explore the plains of your stomach, pluck at the waistband of your panties. “Promise ‘m not gonna do anything else.”

Learned my lesson the first time. Got my skull cracked open for it.

“That’s what I like ta hear.”

Without warning, your panties are being ripped from you, scraps of fabric fluttering useless to the floor. You squawk in indignation but then a heavy hand settles between your shoulder blades.

He presses down, and you follow without complaint, finding yourself bent in half.

And then the fat head of his cock is right there, teasing at your entrance. He plays with your cunt, slipping the shaft between your wet folds. Dragging up the length of you to tap at your swollen clit.

Jerking in his hold, you whine and try to bear down with all your weight. “Please,” you squirm. “Please, c’mon…”

His grip remains firm, bruising as he exhales next to your ear, a pleased little grumble. “Thatta girl. Now tell me, who’s my pretty lil thief?”

Every hard ridge of his body bites into the softness of yours, your stiff nipples dragging against the rough material of your shirt. Zings of pleasure shoot through you; bursting in your bloodstream, fizzy like warm Nuka Cola.

“I-”

“Go on now, Sweetheart: say it.” Fingers dig into your hips so hard your bones ache. “Or I jus' might be tempted ta take a bite outta your pretty lil backside instead.”

He’s bluffing, you think, half delirious, … Right? He wouldn’t--

You swallow, throat clicking, and squirm against him.

Is that a chance you’re willing to take?

No, no it’s not.

“Y-Yours - I’m - I’m your little thief.”

The unexpected flare of satisfaction in his voice is almost your undoing. A hand pets down your flank, swatting the outside of your thigh playfully.

“Good girl.” He demands, “Say it again.”

Sharp hip bones kick forward against your ass as he lines himself up and starts to bully his way inside.

“I’m - YOURS!”

Your soft, gummy walls flutter, squeeze until giving in with a pop under the hard pressure of the fat head. His cock stretches you out, thick and girthy.

Ridges of scar tissue and patches of rough friction pockmark his shaft, massaging tender places as he fills you up, fucking you open.

He feeds you inch after inch… until he can’t.

“Wait!”

Accommodating his girth is a struggle, your cunt filled to the brim by the time he’s halfway inside. No amount of slick could make him fit, so he makes do with harsh little jerks of his hips. Forces himself deeper and deeper until he glides home nice and smooth, sheathing himself to the base with a sigh of satisfaction.

You clamp down hard with a hiccupy whine, walls furtively trying to push him out. “A-Ah!”

“Goddamn,” he huffs, hands kneading your ass, “You’re a tight fit.”

Tears prick your lash line, your hips shifting as you try to stop him from moving. Begging for a moment of reprieve. You’ve never taken something so big and thick, so textured before.

Coupled with the minimal foreplay, it feels like he’s punched his way through your body. Hollowed you out to make a home for himself.

Pussy aching, a low burning tightness creeps over your lower belly as tender flesh pulses uncomfortably around the unforgiving heft of his cock seated deep inside. You swear you feel him poking your belly button.

“Please,” you pant, heat settling into your cheeks. “J-Just wait a sec-ond! I can’t - oh shit.” 

“Aw, look at you.” Fingers reach around to brush over your cheeks, gather the tears that’ve slipped free. “Didn’t mean ta make you cry,” he lies.

The sound of him sucking his fingers clean reaches your ears. Your stomach swoops, and your clit throbs. Dazed as you wonder what his mouth would feel like on your pussy.

"Hah - too much, you're - fuck - you're too big."

He snickers. “Can’t be helped, I guess.” Body rippling in a shrug, his hands re-settling on your hips. “But that’s all right - I like it better when they cry.”

Before you can retort, he pulls his hips back.

Your toes curl in your boots, feet squeaking across the linoleum floor as your sweaty forehead grinds into the cool metal of the wall. The texture of his shaft burns as it slides through your swollen folds, dragging against sensitive spots you didn’t even know existed.

You can’t tell if it’s the best you’ve ever felt or the worst, but you nearly sob all the same, nerves alight with liquid fire. Want him as deep inside as he can go; a frenzy of desperation that needs him to stuff you so full you choke.

“See for all your whining, you’re takin’ me so well. What did I say about bein' honest?”

You sniffle, blurry eyes creaking open to stare out the window.

Your body throbs in time with your pulse, your pussy so stretched out you can’t clench down when he thrusts in deep. The fat mushroom head teases your cervix, a faint whisper, before he’s drawing back again.

“T-Too fast,” you stutter, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder. Your thighs tremble, knees going soft. “Slow down, slow down.”

“Sh, you can take it. I know you can.”

With a grunt, he surges forward. Wasting no time in starting up a brutal pace that rattles your bones. He drives you hard into the side of the diner; tits crushed and face smashed, a disgusting mixture of tears and drool wetting your cheek.

“Just like that, Sweetheart.”

You do little more than hold on, all thoughts driven from your mind as he fucks you swollen and bruised. Cunt a sticky mess as your slick eases the way, clinging to your inner thighs and dripping down his heavy balls.

Every thrust punches little sounds from you, and he grunts. “Fuck!”

Your hands cling to the sides of his hips, focusing on the shift of muscle beneath heavy fabric. “I can’t,” you slur, eyes cloudy as you glance up into his, gazes meeting for the first time. “Please, I - ah!”

His thrusts turn punishing, even more so than they already were, hips meet your ass with enough force to leave bruises. “What did I say about sneakin' a peek?”

While the words sound threatening, his voice is heated and breathy. For all his talk, he doesn’t look away. In fact, his hips slow into languid rolls, grinding close. When your eyes slide from his, he reaches down to pinch your clit between his fingers.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chides. “You keep those eyes on me.”

Pretty, you think, dazed.

Glinting in the slants of firelight like wet sand or a Nuka Cola bottle in the sun; bourbon warm as they peer at you from beneath a heavy brow bone.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl."

Eyes fluttering when he flexes his hips in reward, the tip massaging along your g-spot, your mouth drops open on a whine.

“O-Oh! Right there, I - fuck, please don’t stop. ‘m so close.” F-Feels s'good.

His bare hand reaches up to curl around your jaw, gnarled fingers pushing their way past the open circle of your swollen lips. They compress your tongue as they gather saliva, stroking along your tastebuds.

Gritty, rough; he tastes of dirt, blood, and gunpowder.

You sneak a kiss to his scarred knuckle when he pulls free.

“Shit, I’ll be damned. You’re just a nasty lil freak, ain't you?”

You moan in response, stretching up on your tip-toes and arching your hips to change the angle. Your palms rest beside your head, docile.

A crazed grin cracks the corners of his lips, his teeth bared like an animal. “I like that,” he husks. “Now be a peach…”

Then those soaked digits are finding their way between your thighs, ghosting over your skin to smear spit onto your abused clit. The tender bud throbs beneath his fingertips, swollen and begging for attention.

He hitches his hips forward to feel you jerk, pulsing beneath his touch as he resumes a fast, jolting pace that has you smacking into the wall.

“And cum for me.”

A deep rumble escapes his throat, the sloppy, wet sounds of him fucking you ringing loud in your ears. Your hips roll, unsure if you want to press forward into the swirl of his fingers or back into the rut of his cock.

Tears stream down your cheeks, your chest heaving with weak sobs.

“Please,” you whine, his shaft pinching your walls uncomfortably. You feel swollen, rubbed raw. “A-Almost there.”

A nip to the ear is all it takes.

“Hhaah, I’m--!”

The liquid heat that’s been pooling low in your belly - building and building - finally bursts in a gush of slick that soaks his hand. Darkens the crotch of his pants as it drips down your thighs to splash against the tile.

You sob, a full body tremor zipping through you like bottled lightening.

In the aftermath, your cunt twitches in time with your heartbeat. Hands numb and head full of cotton as cramps bloom between your hips. Sharp little stabs shoot up behind your navel.

“Shit, I’ve got myself a gusher,” he laughs, a nasty little smirk tugging at his lips. “Look at the mess you made. Now if you ask real sweet-like, maybe I’ll let you clean it up with your tongue.”

You sag, too boneless to be ashamed as electric aftershocks tingle along your nerves. All the while, his pace never falters, quickly fucking you into overstimulation.

Your clit twitches pathetically when the fat head of his cock drags along your g-spot. "No more," you mumble weakly, letting him maneuver your body how he likes. "Please."

“Heh, let’s see if you can do that again.”

You whimper, “Oh, oh, please n-no. I - I can’t. You’ll break me.”

“That’s real cute,” his lips, harsh and rasping, drag over the shell of your ear, “but I wasn’t askin’.”

The grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain, digging in and marking you up.

“Now, why don’ we have some real fun, Darlin'?”

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout smut #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x you #the ghoul #cooper howard #fallout #fallout fanfic

[4ngel-inc]

࿔*:･ 𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐘 𝐌𝐄 — 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 ࿐

notes — [ mdni / 18+ ], fem reader, pet names, dirty talk.

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑 takes it very seriously when you can't sleep. "lucifer, i'm fine, is this really necessary?" he rubs your feet as you sip on the tea he made you, just a little honey and cream the way you like. "yes," he states matter-of-factly, "you aren't feeling well," he frowns, "i wish you'd tell me what's on your mind." the tea is making you a little more relaxed, "it just gets to me sometimes, luci," you pause, "seeing everyone fawn over you at RAD." he sighs, halting his ministrations on your feet, "it's only because i'm in charge, they think they'll benefit if they befriend me," he looks at you with all the love in the world, "it's you i really want, that won't change."

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍 is the reason you can't sleep, he's pissed you off with one of his get-rich-quick schemes again, and the argument you had before turning the lights out is enough to have you ruminating, thinking about the things he's said to you. you wonder, will he ever grow more responsible? although he seems to be sleeping soundly, mammon is contemplating the same things—why does he keep disappointing you? he wants to be better, for you. "hey, ya sleeping?" if you're awake, he's hoping you'll be open to talking. "i'm sorry, i know yer mad, but i'm gonna be more responsible from now on, gotta make you my wife someday, i wanna take care of you, please let me."

𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒 naturally, thinks sex is the answer when you can't sleep. he'll slip his hand around the back of your hair and pull you in, immediately slipping his tongue into your mouth. he's a bit of a pervert, so he doesn't waste time in asking you if what he's doing is alright, "this ok, love? let me help you sleep," he nibbles on your bottom lip as you nod, urging him to continue. "i'll fuck you to sleep, let me please you, you and your beautiful body. . ." he mutters to himself, trailing a hand down your stomach before slipping his fingers under your panties, "you'll only have good dreams tonight, honey, i promise."

𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁 has never told you before, but he always waits until you fall asleep before he lets himself drift off. he just likes to know you're safe and comfortable before he can relax, and seeing you tucked under his arm, looking so peaceful since he is the one protecting you, is worth more to him than any gourmet cuisine. however, when you can't sleep, he's naturally excited to share his favorite snacks with you—cookies and cakes, probably far too much sugar for a late-night meal but it honestly does make you feel a little better. "see? i told you," he smiles and snuggles into you, "you're feeling better now, i can tell."

#— love notes: [obey me] ୧ ‧₊ #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #obey me smut #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #obey me fluff #obey me x you #obey me x y/n #obey me headcanons

[daytaker]

Could you do headcanons with the MC that's constantly napping and sleeping but somehow can keep up with whatever is going on? Just imagine them sleep talking coherent replies in a conversation during a meeting or doing the dishes with their eyes closed and lightly snoring

The Brothers React to Functional Sleeping MC

If it wasn't for Belphie, this would have confused them all a lot more.

Considering Belphegor's constant napping and occasional conversation contributions through sleep-talk, they are much less surprised by this tendency of MC's than the vast majority of people would be. It's just a natural part of life that some people are capable of sleeping and carrying out day to day activities at the same time.

Right?

(Individual brothers below the cut.)

Lucifer finds it annoying, sure, but at least you're slow-moving. What he really fears is the MC whose intense energy shatters any semblance of peace in this house. At the end of the day, though, he's not doing anything for you that he wasn't already doing for Belphie, so it's an inconvenience he can live with.

Mammon can't tell when you're actually asleep. He's convinced that you fake it a lot, since that's something Belphie is known to do when he'd rather not participate in a conversation. So he's always suspicious when you're able to complete tasks and move around while ostensibly asleep. He tries to catch you off guard and prove that you're not really sleeping, but he's never able to do it. Still, he hates that he can never let his own guard down as far as what he says when you're sleeping nearby, since there's a 50/50 chance you'll somehow absorb what he's saying and remember it in your waking life.

Levi thinks it's cute; at least, at first he does. It's a common trope in slice-of-life anime, having super cute sleepy characters. At the same time, it's a little frustrating, because you tend to just nod off whenever he tries to talk to you for any extended length of time, and he isn't going to play the game where he keeps talking just because you might actually be absorbing what he's saying! If you aren't interested enough to stay awake, he'll just stop bothering you! Hmph.

Satan finds it kind of funny, mostly because of how his brothers react to it. Mammon acting suspicious and nervous, Levi getting his feelings hurt, Asmo fawning over you, and Beel carrying you to and from RAD like luggage. He doesn't have a tremendous amount of interest in you, exactly, but you provide some real entertainment, so he appreciates that. Plus, and big shocker here: did you know cats nap a lot? You gain points in his book for this resemblance you bear to nature's most magnificent creatures.

Asmo thinks it's just precious to watch the human sleep at the table, or at their desk, or on the floor in the library, or on the toilet, or at breakfast, or at dinner, or... Mmm, are you okay, sweetie? You need to work on your sleep schedule. If you're having trouble sleeping at night, you should just come visit him! He has all sorts of ideas for how you could wear yourself out at night so you'll be refreshed during the day! :)

Beel is a little thrown off at first, because in some ways it's like Belphie never left. You'll recall that when MC first arrives in the Devildom, the other brothers besides Lucifer think Belphie is in the human world as an exchange student. So Beel wonders if maybe there was some sort of equivalent exchange shenanigans going on. They sent up a sleepy demon, so maybe that meant a sleepy human had to come down? It's very comforting, at any rate. He makes himself your unofficial guardian, carrying you out of situations where it's not safe to just lie down and sleep, or guiding you back inside after you sleepwalk out of the House of Lamentation.

Belphie is convinced he's met his soulmate, and honestly, maybe he's right. I can only imagine that you're mellow as fuck, probably got over any hard feelings from Chapter 16, and you're fast friends with Belphie now. You nap together all the time. Belphie even shares his secret hiding places with you.

Sometimes you and Belphie have full conversations in your sleep, to the amazement and amusement of the other brothers.

MC: Hungry... Go out 'n eat... Belphie: Snnn.... Jus' stay here... Kitchen... MC: Burgers... Belphie: Too cold to walk... MC: Lazy... Belphie: No, you... MC: Wear a hat... Belphie: Fine... MC: ...Hell's Kitchen in twenty... Belphie: Hmm... *Both stand up and sleepwalk to the door.* Mammon: They're not actually asleep, right? MC: *walks directly into a wall, grumbles about traffic, then continues* Mammon: ....Right?

This is the rare MC that I'd pair with Belphie. Normally I'm a little wary about how that would pan out, but if their relationship is built on mutual sleepiness and shared hiding spots to nap, well. Love is love.

#ask response #i have no excuse for the tardiness here #forgive me anon #anon #hcs #obey me #obey me hcs #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #om! belphegor #dthc #lucifer #mammon #levi #satan #asmo #beel #belphie #mc #x reader #belphie x reader

[macfrog]

call me

idea came to me in a dream. enjoy also! i made a notifs blog! taglist life is NOT for me, babies. feel free to head on over, follow and turn notifs on to be updated anytime i post! 👉 @macfroglets 👈 you’re gonna wanna do it before this sunday…😉🤠

inspired by @bageldaddy who is the author of the dreamiest series on this site, my biggest crush, and also told me not to tag her but i respect my elders so.

pairing: joel miller x call girl!reader

summary: you moonlight as a call girl, receiving mediocre call after mediocre call. one night, one joel miller dials in, and grants you the most exciting ten minutes of your career

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) this fic is pro-sex work. reader is a phone sex operator, mentions of anal and oral, dirty talk, couple mentions of daddy, praise kink, mutual masturbation, alcohol consumption, cursing

word count: 3k

main masterlist

“What now, baby?” you whisper, laughing to yourself. You’re palming at your breast, your fingers pulling in around your nipple. Your core begins to throb. “You’re gonna touch yourself.” “That what you want?” “’s what I want, angel. Do it for me.”

It started out as a joke, if you’re being honest.

A wine-drunk night with Liv, sat at opposite ends of the couch, legs intertwined somewhere in the middle of the cushions. Her blouse was stained pink – your fault, apparently, for making her laugh too hard. Her glass tilted a fraction too far and before you knew it, you owed her a new shirt.

“Say it again, say it how he said it,” she snorted, patting her chest down with the damp towel you’d handed her.

“…quite frankly, disappointed with your performance,” your head tilted back and forth, mocking the nasally voice of your fifty-one-year-old, receding-hairline-equipped boss. Ex-boss. Asshole.

“Oh, fuck,” she heaved, still catching her breath. “That’s so fucking funny.”

You sighed in agreement.

“So…what are you actually gonna do now?”

You shrugged. “Sell my body.”

“Dare you.”

“I would.”

“I know you would. And you’d be good at it, too. ‘s why I’m telling you to do it.”

You kicked her ankle. “I got bills to pay, dude.”

“What about one of those call girls?”

And, well. That was that.

You’d googled it after seeing her off to her own apartment, watching her wobbly form stagger across the hall and stab her key a few times into the wood before it landed in the lock. The door closed with an accidental slam which echoed up the stone stairwell, and you crept back to your own place.

Palms either side of your laptop on the counter, face lit in a blue glow, dripdripdrip of your busted tap echoing around your dark kitchen. They asked for an email address – you used the one you’d made up before you realized email addresses were permanent – and a phone number. Said someone would call you to discuss it. You shrugged, hit Sign up and went to bed.

Within hours, you’d spoken to some sharp-accented woman who asked quick, snappy questions and uhuhed her way through your answers. Her name was Erica. She told you she’d look after you, told you to call her with any questions or concerns you had.

All she wanted from you were the basics: you liked sex, you masturbated, you knew how to dirty talk. You sorta knew your way around things like anal, and could manage a convincing pitch for things of a more…exploratory nature.

And then she asked when you wanted to start. You told her that night.

Your first caller – like, ever – was some guy with a midwestern accent who asked you to narrate fucking him. Like, spanking him with a paddle, calling him a bad, bad boy. You threw your nerves to the wind and went along with it, and honestly, had a pretty rad time. He was cool.

But one was enough for your first night. You logged out and went to bed. You told Liv the next morning, and she punched your arm a little too hard and yelled, That’s my fuckin’ girl! Was it hot? Did you…y’know?

No. You never get that lucky. Some calls you can lie idly on your couch and let your limp hand surf beneath the hem of your underwear, push lazy circles against your clit as the dude moans in your ear or gasps when you whine.

Sometimes their mics can pick up the faint sound of them jacking off, and your brain slips you an image that makes your stomach flutter. Sometimes you’ll hang up and take yourself the whole nine yards with your laptop sitting on your mattress, porn on the screen, and your vibrator between your open legs.

It’s pretty intense work. Sometimes.

But all in all: no. You never…y’know.

One week in, you were cooking dinner whilst telling Trevor – thirty-nine, Buffalo, New York – how you’d take his huge, throbbing dick in your throat and let him fuck it. He asked to hear how turned on you were, just talking about it. You lowered your phone down to the pot of macaroni and gave it a stir.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned down the line, “you’re so fuckin’ wet right now, huh?”

Huh.

Tonight, you had pizza rolls. Less sexy.

You just got off another call. Thirty minutes of describing how good you’d take him up your ass. You’re bored, turned off by this point, and tired. It’s almost 3AM.

You pace around your apartment, flicking switches off and tossing cushions back into place. Spilling small sips of wine from your glass onto your tongue as you’re plunged into darkness, one click at a time.

You don’t get much while the sun’s up. Most days, nothing at all. That works for you, though. You can run errands, grab groceries, do sweet-fucking-nothing whilst waiting for the influx of calls that will inevitably come your way by nightfall. When the streetlights come on, the rush hour traffic dies out front, the shuffling of tired feet up the concrete staircase outside your front door slows down – you just log in, and your cell will eventually start to ring.

Your cell, which now lies wedged between the couch cushions. You notice the sound of it vibrating as you’re pulling your curtains closed. Half-way shut, you desert them and wander over. Intrigued.

No Caller ID. The usual. You swipe right. The robotic voice tells you there’s a request on your account for a ten-minute call. Tells you to dial 1 to accept, or hang up.

Ten minutes? At three in the morning?

Usually, at this time of night, they’re longer. They’re drunk, or their partner finally fell asleep, or they just want your attention for a bit. See them through the uncomfortably quiet night.

But ten fucking minutes?

Ten minutes would make you somewhere around thirty-five dollars. They had the option as the timer ran out to extend the call, if they wanted. Most of them did. And that worked fine for you.

You’re unemployed. Who knows what money you’ll have in a week’s time? An extra thirty bucks – probably more – right before bed? A little nightcap?

You dial in and answer the call.

He doesn’t say anything when it connects. You hear the ruffling of clothes.

Your voice naturally dips a couple octaves, coats in something smooth and husky. Glistening, gleaming, sex-driven. “Hello?”

He clears his throat. His voice is deep, rich. More vibration than speech. He speaks with a Southern drawl, like bare skin running over silken sheets. It’s smooth, and sensual, and sexy. “Evenin’.”

You knock the last light switch off with your hip and doddle through to your bedroom. Mornin’, actually. “Hi. What’re you after, baby?”

He takes a beat to reply. More ruffling. He chuckles a little before he says it. “Baby? That what you wanna call me?”

Your glass scrapes softly across your nightstand. You bounce down on your mattress, springs moaning as you roll onto your stomach. Knees bent, your ankles link in the air. “What do you want me to call you?”

“Guess we can figure that one out together.”

“Alright. I like a challenge. You wanna start with your name?”

Another pause. He sucks in a deep breath. “Joel.”

“Joel,” you repeat, thumb picking at your nailbeds. “That’s a sexy name.”

He doesn’t respond. Just gives a non-committal grunt, and a smile pulls across your lips.

“What are you into, Joel?”

He sniffs. “Thought we could figure that out, too.”

Something in the way he says it, the curve in the words, maybe, tells you he knows damn well what he’s into. What he means is: you can figure that out by yourself.

Like you said: you like a fucking challenge.

“You like nicknames? Daddy? That kinda thing?”

A low growl passes his lips. “Not this early on, I don’t.”

You know from the hitch in his voice that he likes it. That little catch at the bottom of his throat, the way the words stumble on their way up. Know you’ve plucked a string deep inside.

“Well, you know you only got ten minutes, right?”

“I’m aware.”

“’kay,” you sing, flipping your hair over your shoulder. You exhale, drawing shapes on the pattern of your bedsheets. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinkin’ about, then? What’s on your mind, cowboy?”

Cowboy. It’s the accent. He sounds Texan, or something. His words float through the receiver all wound, coiled up and tight.

Joel doesn’t seem to care. He answers your question truthfully.

“Thinkin’ about what you’re doin’ right now.”

You smirk. Sometimes you like the attention, too. You turn your head, check the clock by your bed. Two minutes have passed.

“I’m…lying in bed, in the dark. Had a couple wines, feelin’ pretty good. But this is all about you, so.”

He chuckles softly. “’m lyin’ in bed, too. In the dark.”

“You feelin’ lonely?”

He takes another deep breath. You figure he does this before he gives most answers. He sounds the contemplative type. Always double, triple checking his sentences before he lets them go.

“Just need somethin’ to take the edge off.”

“Okay,” you breathe, “let me. What do you need?”

There’s a long break between the end of your question and the sound he makes before he answers. You pull the phone from your ear and glance at the screen to make sure it’s still connected. Time says another two minutes have passed.

Joel grumbles. It echoes around your ear like thunder in the distance. “You touchin’ yourself?” he eventually asks.

“Uhuh,” you reply, nails picking at a loose thread on your comforter.

“Yeah? How’s it feel?”

“Good,” you mewl, tugging at the seam. Your teeth grit as you yank at it. “So – fucking – good.”

There’s another growl from the other end. It vibrates through your speaker, purrs in your ear.

“You ain’t fuckin’ touchin’ yourself.”

Your hand stops. Your eyes stick on the thread. “I am.”

“You are?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me how.”

You roll your eyes, turning onto your back. Your fingers play with the buttons of your shirt. Fuckin’ – tell me how. “I’m…” you sigh, “…I’m laying in bed, on my back. My hands are –”

“What you wearin’?”

“Isn’t that the sorta stuff you oughta ask when I first pick up?”

He speaks calmer. Clearer. You can hear the smile on his lips. “’m askin’ you now. What you wearin’, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. So he’s that type. Whatever. He’s kind of pissing you off.

“A shirt. And socks. And panties. No bra.”

“’n where you touchin’ yourself?”

You huff. “Between my –”

“Watch the attitude.”

You almost fucking laugh. Your breath escapes your chest in a silent burst. “Between my legs,” you tell him, flat and annoyed.

“Mhm. Above or beneath the panties?”

“Beneath, daddy.”

A tiny groan passes his lips. He doesn’t mean for it to, and a second, angry grumble follows, like he’s pissed at himself for letting it slip.

You take a lock of hair and twirl it around your finger, pulling tight until the tip whitens. “You touching yourself?” you ask, voice sickly sweet.

Joel ignores you. “Take it off. The shirt,” he clarifies, when you don’t answer.

You shuffle around a little, making sure he can hear the movement. You unbutton the shirt until it’s lying loose over your breasts, then tug it down over one shoulder.

“Alright,” you tell him with a heavy breath, laying back on the mattress, “it’s off.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and your eyes flutter closed.

“Mhm.”

Joel chuckles under his breath. “Know when you’re lyin’, angel. Take – it – off. Don’t be a brat about it.”

This is half the game for him, you realize. This is his thing. He gives commands, you disobey them, and he kicks you into line. Tells you to behave.

You figure you like it almost as much, going by the heat pooling between your legs.

Your shoulders lift and you tug the shirt over them, tossing it to the floor. You lie back, bare against the sheets, and your hand instantly cups over your breast.

“Better,” Joel breathes.

“What now, baby?” you whisper, laughing to yourself. You’re palming at your breast, your fingers pulling in around your nipple. Your core begins to throb.

“You’re gonna touch yourself.”

“That what you want?”

“’s what I want, angel. Do it for me.”

You don’t take much more convincing. Your hand slips down your front, cups over your mound. You gasp when your fingertips brush against your clit.

Joel hears. “Yeah,” he hums, “’s a good girl. Take those panties off ‘n rub that pretty little clit for me.”

Your fingertips give one last kiss to the fabric of your panties. Your mouth tips open a fraction. You suck in a quiet breath, and push your hips up off the bed. The lace slips down your thighs in one motion.

Joel’s grunting steadily now, small noises slipping past his lips and into your ear. You spread your legs and push against your bud again, massaging the sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Joel,” you whine, and he groans in response.

“I know, I know,” he’s saying, and you hear the metal tinkle of his belt buckle. The fraying sound of denim being shifted. One slow, relief-filled groan.

His hands are on his cock.

You’d put more effort into caring that he’s been fully clothed this entire time, if you could think straight. You’re applying more pressure to your clit, rubbing faster, harder, then letting your fingers drift downward, move between your gleaming folds.

“Wish I was there with you so bad,” Joel purrs, and your eyes flutter open.

“Yeah?” you choke.

“Yeah.”

“What would you – do to me?”

He shudders. “Would fuck you real good, sweetheart.”

“Fuck,” you breathe, fingers circling faster.

There’s a gentle tugging; a rhythmic breathing. The odd break in his voice when his hand tightens, or you make a sweet little sound, or he catches himself giving too much away.

“Fuckin’ – be all over you. Nice ‘n hard. You want that?”

“Mhm,” you mewl, panting. “Want it so bad.”

“Yeah, you do,” Joel says. You can hear the sticky sound of his precum, leaking from his tip and running between his fingers, being pumped down his shaft by his fist. “Feels good, angel, don’t it? When you do what you’re told?”

“Y-eah,” you whisper.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and you picture a tight fist choking a thick cock. Picture that same fist unwinding, curving around your mound, fingers pushing deep inside you.

“Joel,” you whimper, and your fingers move down again, dipping nearer your tight, wet hole.

He grunts in response. “Don’t – not yet,” he tells you.

You whine.

“You got somethin’ else to use?” he asks, then interrupts before you can answer. “Yeah, you do. Go get it, sweetheart. Tell me what you got.”

“V-vibrator,” you mumble, hoisting yourself up and lunging across the bed to your nightstand. You haul the drawer open and sift between balled-up socks until you’re clutching the long, thick shape, fingers tight around the dips and curves.

“Let me hear it, angel.”

You click the button and the toy whirrs to life, vibrating strongly in your hand.

Joel hisses. “Alright, sweetheart, lie back. Gonna put it on that pretty little pussy, alright? Gonna make yourself cum for me.”

“Uhuh,” you murmur, one hand lowering the vibrator between your legs, the other holding the phone to your ear in a vice grip.

You push the round tip down to your clit and your head falls back with a loud moan. Joel sends one straight back at the sound of yours. It fades into a whimper, a desperate cry as you massage yourself with your toy.

Your legs clench as you dip it lower, letting the head nudge against your entrance, sending flutters of pleasure across your dripping cunt.

“Don’t fuck yourself,” Joel instructs, and your hand quickly pulls back. “Save it.”

This mystery man, who you’ve known for – if your clock is right – eight minutes, now; whose name is the most information you’ve gotten out of him; and whose face you couldn’t pick in a lineup…has such a hold on you, that your body instinctively reacts to his every word. An automatic reaction to do exactly as he says, when, five minutes ago, you couldn’t wait to get him off the phone.

You fucking listen to him. Save it for what? your head asks, and you ignore it. You don’t push the toy any closer to your center.

It drives hard against your clit, fast vibrations rippling down on the hot, swollen skin. It sends floods of warmth between your legs, drawing your arousal slick and wet from between your folds.

Your chest is damp, gleaming with sweat. Your breath cuts short in your throat, guttural noises replacing it as they reverberate through your mouth, across your tongue and into your dark bedroom.

Your walls start to clamp around nothing. You angle the vibrator so that it sends deep pulses across your pussy, shutting your eyes to picture Joel’s thick cock burying deep inside you as you climax with a loud, broken cry.

“Yeah, good girl. That’s it. Sound so pretty, angel. ‘s a good girl.”

You’re whimpering his name as you come down, holding the toy to your clit and letting your high wash over you. Your chest jumps, breaths heavy and staggered, gasping for air and then letting it rush out of your lungs in desperate pants.

“You know how good you are at that?” he asks, when your breath steadies again.

You giggle softly. “’s why I do it, baby.”

“Worth every fuckin’ penny.”

You sit in the post-orgasm haze for a few seconds, waiting for the room to stop spinning and your body to feel like yours again. You pull the phone from your sweat-stuck cheek and glance at the time. You have less than thirty seconds left. Joel seems to do the same, for his voice returns to your ear in a gentle, low whisper.

“Alright. Speak soon, angel. Be good.”

The call cuts.

----------

taglist: @slvbl @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @casa-boiardi @msjarvis @acornacreacure @totallynotastanacc @alejaa-a @aphterthoughtt @pedroluver @earthtogrogu @sexygaypalpatine @cool-iguana @serenaxpedro @lizzyervs @bitchwitch1981 @brittmb115 @stormseyer @scarletthefierce @patti7dc @pattwtf @atticrissfinch @pascalpvnk @lizzyervs @jediknightjana @jessie8605 @iknowisoundcrazy @caitispunk @vickie5446 @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi @gracieispunk @hellishjoel

(psst! after this weekend my taglist is no more! follow @macfroglets + turn on notifs if you wanna be in the know when i post!)

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #joel miller x callgirl!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Full transparency I have 4C hair and I've always HATED it - especially because I'm tenderheaded as all fuck. But like my hair is coarse as all hell, the most 4C coily tangley hair that takes hours to do anything with so I usually just shave it off

But Like

Hobie, Hair, and Why it Matters

- (to me)

What if I told you HOBIE is making me change that

Im getting locs because of him but like!!!! Idk what it is - it's just the fact that his hair gets to exist and it LOOKS COOL and yes I know it still takes work but FOREVER I wanted hair that could just look cool as is but felt like I never could cause I always had to do SOMETHING or comb it or detangle or part it or WHATEVER

Cause like even wearing an afro is WORK - A LOT OF WORK Like with natural hair my hair does not do this shit naturally

You cannot do this with my hair its way too thick and coarse. And I've always felt discounted by the natural hair movement cause it's still so much work for me to even like 'look presentable' even by THEIR standards

But like Hobie.... Hobie..... Hobie (sorry I'm tryna form thoughts)

He challenges all that by just- BEING. EXISTING. LETTING HIS HAIR EXIST. LOOK

Idk it just means a lot to me. Like if anyone has the words to explain please do cause I MAY CRY

LIKE he's the first character to actually make me feel good and happy about my hair or with a look that like.. I feel like 'oh yeah I can do that!!'

I love his hair so much and it was the FIRST THING I noticed when he took off the mask like?!!!!!!! WICKS!!!!!!

AND HE LOOKS GOOD IN THEM AND THEY GAVE HIM THEM CAUSE THEY THOUGHT THEY WERE THE COOLEST MOST PUNK LOOKING OPTION ISN'T THAT COOL

They didn't care about the mask physics they cared about making him look rad and they chose hair texture like mine to do it!!!!! FOR ONCE IN MY LIFE AHHHHHH

LIKE he has hair like me. The coolest character. For the first time ever ever ever. I love him SOO SO SO MUCH and I can't wait to get locs

#spiderman #atsv #marvel #spider man #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #spider punk #spiderpunk #natural hair

[another-lost-mc]

➤ when they find out you have a fwb | the dateables

1.3k words | gn!reader | nsfw | suggestive

c/w: jealousy, pining, masturbation

read more: the demon brothers | when solomon is your fwb

Barbatos first learns about your arrangement from Asmodeus, and he hesitates to inform his young master about it. Perhaps it's not their place to discuss your private life, but he decides that transparency is best. The subject inevitably comes up one morning when Diavolo asks for an update about the exchange program. He's anxious to know how the students are adjusting to life in the Devildom. Admittedly, he's not concerned about Solomon or the angels as much as he is about you. You're an ordinary human with only Lucifer and his siblings to protect you outside of school hours. He remembers how upset you were when you first arrived and he doesn't want resentment to linger.

Diavolo chokes on a mouthful of coffee when Barbatos informs him that you’re in a relationship with one of your classmates. (He uses the term relationship loosely since he's seen no evidence that you spend much time together outside of your physical arrangement.) Diavolo clears his throat and remarks how wonderful it is that you're making friends so quickly. The smile on his face looks forced. He leaves the rest of his breakfast untouched and carries on with his preparations for the day. He feels a burst of happiness when he sees you at RAD, and he ignores the bitter jealousy that burns his throat when he sees your friend. He has no logical reason to interfere, and he knows it's petty when he considers the subtle ways he can try to keep you two apart. It feels like an abuse of his power, but the more he thinks about it, the more justified he feels. He doesn't get much work done because he's so distracted thinking about the best way to approach you about deepening your relationship. You're his guest in the Devildom; if you want to turn to someone for pleasurable company, why not the prince himself?

Barbatos keeps a close eye on you and your friend once he discovers your secret. He tells himself it's because his young master would want him to and not his own jealous curiosity. He has no evidence to suggest the other demon means to harm you or that you're not being treated well. On the contrary, some days your eyes seem just a bit brighter and there's a secretive smile on your face. His keen eye for detail notices that sometimes you walk with the slightest limp in your gait. Your spirit and body are radiant in the aftermath of pleasure and he realizes he wants you for himself. He decides your time is wasted with your current choice of companion. He finds new reasons to seek you out because your friend is reluctant to approach you when the demon lord's butler hovers nearby. He feels a bit smug that your suitor is so easily deterred. See? You can do better than that weak excuse for a demon.

Barbatos eagerly learns more about your favourite foods and drinks, the types of books you like to read and your hobbies. He knows your class schedule and surprises you with mid-morning snacks of freshly-brewed tea and baked treats he makes specially for you. He plans to court you properly, so he can give you everything your other lover didn't; you deserve so much more than rushed fumblings in dark, dusty storage closets.

Solomon was wrong about you. In a world of demons, he believed you would naturally turn to him if you missed parts of your life in the human world. He’s the only other human here, and it seemed logical that you would lean on him for support or comfort. He remembers the first day he met you; if he could sense your fear, he knew the demons could too. That’s why he’s genuinely shocked to learn that not only are you and the demon brothers actually getting along, but that you’ve started fucking one of your classmates too. Asmo giggles at Solomon’s slack-jawed expression when he tells him.

It’s only a few days later when he happens to spot you coming out of a dark utility closet in your slightly-wrinkled uniform. He plasters a wide grin on his face and pretends not to notice. He offers to walk you to the cafeteria for lunch as a chance for you two to catch up. He sniffs the air discreetly while you chatter on about something funny the brothers did that morning. He's too distracted to pay attention to what you're saying, though. Underneath the whiff of hastily-reapplied fragrance, he detects salty sweat, musk and a hint of cologne he knows you don’t wear. He wonders what other traces your friend left behind. Did he suck bruises into your skin where the collar of your shirt covers them? Are you sticky from demon cum that dripped down your thighs? It bothers him more than it should that some random demon gets to touch you like this. He can’t stop thinking about it. After trying and failing to sleep that night, he jerks off while he fantasizes about what it might be like to pull you into an empty classroom and hear your voice beg him to fuck you. You're already friends, and he can offer you secrecy or discretion if that's your preference. All he needs to do is think of how to persuade you to let him be your dirty little secret instead. If you give him a chance, he promises you won't regret it.

The first time Simeon sees you with your fling, he's leaning close and whatever he whispers in your ear makes you smile. You bite your lip and nod, and Simeon's perplexed because he's never seen you act this way with someone before. Oh, he's just a friend. The second time Simeon sees you with your fling, he's leading you by the hand into one of the club offices after school. It's a stroke of bad luck, really. He forgot his textbook in one of the classrooms, but he pauses outside the door you disappeared through. He might be an angel, but he's not innocent. He knows exactly what you and your friend are getting up to. It makes his throat dry and he feels hot all of a sudden, and he spends the rest of the night trying to concentrate on his homework instead of the soft, muffled noises he heard through that door. The next day is even worse. There's a noticeable spring in your step and if he leans over you at just the right angle, the small purplish mark barely hidden by your shirt collar reminds him all over again how you got it in the first place.

He didn't think you'd seek out the company of demons that way, especially not with some random classmate you barely spend time with outside of your little dalliances. He understands that humans are lustful and impulsive creatures. Are you so desperate that you would turn to a stranger to satisfy your physical needs? He's not sure why he cares so much. Maybe it's because you're a kind, bright soul in this strange kingdom of endless night. Maybe it's because you stir things in him that he tries to ignore: longing for companionship, desire for a loving hand to touch him instead of his own. Jealousy makes his tone sharp and his heart ache. He goes to bed imagining what taking you out on a date might be like, and he wakes up hard with his hand around his cock as memories of your sweet, pleasured sounds echo in his mind. He can't remember the last time he was so easily led astray by temptation. He wonders if you're more demon than human because he's powerless to resist you.

#obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #solomon x reader #simeon x reader #obey me smut #solomon smut #simeon smut #obey me x reader #x reader #gn!reader

[midnight-vixn]

I like to imagine the demons going into heat/rut or whatever, and you use a potion/spell to make your clit a dick so they can breed and be bred whenever the mood switches for them 🥰 I’m also just genderqueer so I love the idea of having both properly working worlds

*slams fists on table* I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS!!! God I’m am SO glad you sent this ask!!!

💋 Rut Season & Heat Cycles

Reader has the ability to have a dick or pussy thanks to the power of ✨magic✨ literally. All brothers included.

Cw: MAJOR breeding kink, somnophilia (consensual), cockwarming, marking, pegging, exhibitionism, cum lots and lots of cum, cream pies, possessive/territorial behavior, collars, threesomes, demon form fucking, sex toys tons of sex toys, free use/poly relations, marking, demons being demons (a little death/death threats)

Pre-Rut

Before actual Rut begins there are major changes in the demons around you that signal the upcoming season. The brothers will argue more often, occasionally shoving each other and knocking things out of their hands, unusually rude behavior coming from all of them that differs from the norm. They dote on you a little more though, trying to give you small gifts, asking for alone time more often. The closer to Rut you get the more aggressive and territorial they become, you start finding your clothes (not just underwear) covered in their scent, marking you and trying to claim you before the season starts.

Rut Season

Rut season occurs during the early spring in the Devildom and last about three weeks; all demons are affected by it. Thanks to the intense hormones running rampant, demon forms are taken and fights break out constantly between dominant males fighting for a piece of ass, because of this Diavolo makes the decision to shut down RAD during Rut. You and Solomon are prime targets for any demon that’s ever had a thing for you, so naturally Solomon is locked away at Purgatory Hall for the time being and you reside inside the walls of the HoL…lucky you💋

The Twins

Beelzebub and Belphegor normally have no issues, they rarely fight, they spend most of their time together, they share everything including you. Not during Rut though…

Beel is the gentle giant of the family and though he’s one of the youngest (therefore weaker) he has the most testosterone flowing through him which makes him deadly during Rut. His usual soft demeanor is gone and a low growl stays in his chest the entire month, especially when other demons get too close to his things, specifically you. His brothers avoid him at all costs, the only ones who dare enter the same room as him are Lucifer and Satan who would gladly get into a fight during Rut.

Beel will challenge anyone and anything that annoys him but is still sweet on you. Well…as sweet as he can be. When he gets ahold of you don’t expect to leave or walk anytime soon. Beel has a breeding kink that lies dormant normally but during Rut that’s all he can think about, even if you can’t get pregnant that won’t stop him from pumping you full. Mating press yes, but honestly he loves fucking you from behind even more so he can watch his cum leak back out of you after the seventh load. His mind is completely blank except for breed. There’s no sweet kisses or praises like usual just rough animal like grunts and growls as he rails you into next year. Beel loves to fuck you in his room or the kitchen so his brothers know he’s marked you recently.

Belphie ditches his usual laid back attitude and adopts a rather possessive one, if you spend time with him he wants no one else in the room. He doesn’t want them to look at you, talk to you, think about you or even be in the same room. A lot of it stems from being isolated for so long, the rest of it stems from him be the weakest demon in the house. He wasn’t graced with the bulk of hormones his twin was and knows that if one of his brothers really wanted to fight for you he would lose. Which is why he makes you spend time with him in the attic, the only brother who wanders up there is Beel and even that causes issues at times.

Belphie does a 180 on his normal “you do all the work and I’ll provide the cock” approach to sex. His somno kink kicks in big time during Rut, if you aren’t already sleeping with him at night you can expect to wake up to him fucking you/giving you head in your room. He absolutely loves when you ride him in reverse cowgirl so he can watch your ass and pull your hips down harder but he also loves to have you pressed deep into the pillows while he fucks you senseless and you reach up to choke him a little (or a lot). He’ll mostly fuck you in the attic to keep you away from his brothers but he’ll also fuck you on the couch in the main living room or the observatory.

The first Rut you experienced was terrifying, a simple afternoon with Belphie in the attic— who was busy sucking on your neck and feeling you up— quickly turned violent when Beelzebub showed up wanting you for himself. The first real fight you had ever seen the twins get into, actually yelling at each other and locking horns as they fought over who would have you. If you hadn’t suggested the threesome Belphie would’ve been pinned into submission pretty quickly by his brother who was already towering over him while growling low enough to make your stomach flip. After that you learned pretty quickly how to avoid another fight. Beel would never hurt you, even if he had his horns locked with his brother, so if you could calm him down by running your hands over his chest and asking him to share then you could deescalate the tension. The sheer force in which the two of them fucked you however, you could not avoid.

Asmodeus

If you think Asmo is normal you’re sadly mistaken, he’s a fucked up guy really. You forget his demonic side pretty quickly but boy does it show back up during Rut. Asmo gets plenty of sex year round so he’s not as horribly horny as his brothers but he becomes very territorial over you. He’ll take you out to lunch or go shopping (secretly so Lucifer and Diavolo don’t find out) because he knows you need some time away from the house. May the Demon King himself help the poor bastard that tries to get near you though, Asmo is quick to put them in their place, threatening to disembowel them and sell their body parts for shoe money, all while wearing a beautiful smile on his face.

Asmodeus has never been one to shy away from a good time. He’ll gladly please you whenever and wherever, in his room, under the table at dinner, in the dressing room at Majolish, in a back room at The Fall, literally anywhere he can sneak off with you. You can go to his room to escape his insatiable brothers but you have to pay the price, which is letting him finger you/stroke you off while you sit between his legs and he praises you for what a good little human you are. Asmo always makes your legs weak when you fuck but during Rut it’s like you forget how to walk altogether.

Satan

Second in line right under Beel for “Avoid at all Cost” during Rut. His temper and hormones clash to create one very aggressive dominant male. The normal hopeless romantic who tries to keep his sin in check is now a raging beast set out to pick a fight with any one who crosses his path. The fights that have occurred when Satan and Lucifer bump into each other in the hall have cost more to repair than Mammon has ever racked up in credit card debt. Once you arrive Satan tries to stay in his room for the most part during Rut, hoping to eliminate the possibility of you being hurt from one of the fights.

You’re too good to him though, you stop by to check on him and that’s where you mess up. You barely get a “hi” out before Satan has you pressed against his door, stripped naked and his cock rutting against your thighs. His hands travel over your body and a deep growl fills your ear right before he buries himself inside you, fucking you hard enough that you’re almost certain the door will give way at any moment. Satan develops a breeding kink the first Rut you spend with him, his preferred position to breed you in is face down ass up so he can mount you and bite down on your shoulders when he cums. Satan makes sure to fuck you hard enough to make your screams reach every corner of the HoL knowing that Lucifer is bound to hear it.

(If you’re brave enough and think you can survive the fuck fest, Rut is a good time to try a threesome with Satan and Lucifer. The odds improve surprisingly)

Leviathan

Rut turns Levi into an entirely different demon. Much more confident and a lot bolder than usual, this is where you see his “Admiral of Hell’s Navy” side shine. He spends less time in his room mainly because he’s looking for you, he hates when his brothers have already beat him to the punch and have you in their lap or on their lips. Normal Levi would back off and wallow in pity, Rut Levi gets overly jealous and claims what’s his. If it’s one of his younger brothers (minus Beel) he’ll pull you off and steal you, if it’s Lucifer or Mammon he’ll challenge them for you in a horns locked dominance display. If he loses then he’ll sulk in his room until you finish and find him later.

You can’t enter his room without his dicks being in you somehow, be it one or both. If he’s gaming then you’re cockwarming one and stroking the other until he’s done, if you try to watch tv he’s got you flat on your stomach while he fucks you senseless so you can still see the screen (not that you can focus when he has both cocks in your hole). Levi has a HUGE human kink that he’ll deny with all his power under normal circumstances, but during Rut he’s got zero shame and will fuck you with his tail while he tells you how defenseless you are against a demon like him. Levi is overly possessive in Rut and will only fuck you in his or your room, but he loves to fuck you against the door so your moans and screams bleed out into the hall for his brothers to hear.

Mammon

Everyone forgets how powerful Mammon actually is until Rut comes around. He’s still sweet on you, he’ll still make sure you’re happy and in the 20 minutes between rounds he’ll be goofy like normal. But the minute anyone tries to get close to you, his eyes go dark, he growls and his wings spread out to appear bigger. You remember all those times Mammon referred to you as “his human”? Yeah…he meant it. You’re his! That lower demon who made a pass at you a few months ago? Mammon spots him around town and beats the life out of him. The asshole who made you feel bad about yourself last week? Dead. Corpse brought back as a trophy/present for you. His brothers aren’t all that safe either. They get a little too close? A little too handsy? Make a comment he thinks is out of line? He has them shoved up against the wall, growling and baring his fangs, telling them to back the hell off. The only one he won’t straight up deck in the face is Lucifer, but he’ll still butt heads and bow up at him.

If Mammon is the only brother you’re partnered with that’s great because you basically live in his room the entire month. If you’re poly then you’re in for one hell of a fight the first time. Mammon goes from clingy to territorial very quickly, his arm is always around you, his lips always on your neck, he’s ready to fuck you anywhere at all times. And he does. No room or surface is safe or off the table, he does not care who sees or walks in, in fact he’ll bend you over and fuck you in front of his brothers just to show who you belong to. If the two of you are relaxing (or trying to) and another brother starts talking to you for too long or his eyes start to wander over your body Mammon will slip his hand down your pants and start fucking with you as a dominance display. His brothers know to fuck off real quick, Beel and Lucifer are the only two who will stay and try to fight over you.

Lucifer

First born, Avatar of Pride, strongest of his brothers…boy does he show it during Rut. His well composed attitude and strict love of rules and behaving is decimated the instant Rut begins. He’s the strongest and he knows it! He holds his head high because he knows none of his brothers can top him, Beelzebub may try to challenge him and Lucifer will entertain it before putting him in his place. His brothers typically avoid him, keeping close eye when he enters a room and backing off when he approaches you. Lucifer has no problem interrupting you and one of the others even if they’re balls deep in you, he wants you, he’s taking you and no one puts up a fight…except Satan. This is where that threesome can come in to play, leaving you stuffed full while they hate/jealous fuck you.

You were warned about Rut Season long before it happened, but no one warned you about the danger that is Lucifer Morningstar himself. Pride going into full swing in an unexpected way leaves you flustered and helpless every time you leave your room. See, Rut Lucifer knows he’s the best mate in the house so he walks around shirtless, showing off his normally well covered chest and arms, and the loose sweatpants he sports give you a perfect view of his constantly rock hard cock. You think you’d be less flustered going by his office so no one can see you staring but you’d be wrong, if Lucifer is in his room or office he’s completely naked and masturbating but don’t let that stop you. He’ll happily invite you in, reveling in the way you watch him fuck his fist while you talk, very quickly pinning you against the wall and ripping your bottoms off. Normal Lucifer would only fuck you in his room or office at home or RAD, Rut Lucifer will fuck you anywhere he pleases. Bending you over any table or counter he finds, fucking you in the hallway against the wall or hell even on the floor. He leaves you full of his cum every time and loves to watch it run down your thighs as you walk down the halls of the house.

Heat Cycles 💋

Demons typically go in to heat twice a year and it’s completely different for each demon with some going in to heat up to eight times a year. Heat lasts about five to seven days and during this week the affected demon becomes incredibly submissive and is consumed with the desire to be bred even if unable to produce an offspring. Much like a menstrual cycle in humans, demons who spend a lot of time together can have their heats sink up which leads to some very…unusual events at the HOL.

Aide from your local Shady Sorcerer

The brothers love you the way you are, but if you’re willing to help them out to the fullest they’ll gladly accept any changes. If you weren’t born with a certain sex then Solomon has an easy remedy to fix that! A spell that allows you to switch between your choice of genitalia at will and allows you to use and feel everything like normal, nothing comes free though he definitely has an ulterior motive up his sleeve ;)

Lucifer

Lucifer hates going into heat, his pride literally makes him feel sick over it because typically the only way to satiate the burning feeling in his stomach is to find a mate or similar. Before your arrival Lucifer would lock himself away in his bedroom the entire week, phone turned off and door cursed so no one could contact him…and no one could hear him fucking himself. Lucifer ignores his urges on the regular but when in heat they become far too strong to ignore, he fucks his fist desperately hoping to alleviate the knot in his stomach but to no avail. Hunched over on his bed, face red with frustration and desire, his sheets covered in ropes of cum, Lucifer curses his sin for not allowing him to just find a random demon to fuck him, for needing the perfect mate. Then you come along.

The first heat Lucifer has during your stay he’s morbidly embarrassed, praying to the Demon King himself that you don’t notice the change in his behavior. He won’t ask for your help the first time, he needs time to trust you before showing you that vulnerable side, but he acts different around you. His tone is softer, he walks a little behind you instead of beside you in the halls, he tries to keep eye contact with you but will turn away when it’s too much. Once he lets you help him he becomes so helplessly wrapped up in you. He asks that you take it slow— this is his first time having a partner during such an intense feeling— he’ll lay on his side and make out with you while you prep him with your lubed fingers, moaning softly when you stretch him just right. His cock is throbbing and leaking all over his stomach and yours, he gets impatient and reaches down to stroke yours, moaning at the thought of having you inside him. Turn him over and smack his ass, his face is bright red while watching you over his shoulder, spread his ass apart and tell him how hard you’re about to fuck him. His heat is the one time he prefers degrading over praise, call him your slut, tell him his hole was made for your cock, tell him he’s yours! Leave hickeys all over his throat and hand prints on his ass, he wants to be claimed as yours for everyone to see. Lucifer only had two heats before you arrived but now his body goes through a extra one every year and if it lands when you’re in the human world he throws a fit! He’s calling you for phone sex every night and sending you very horny and needy texts all day. Once he comes out of heat do not mention his behavior around his brothers! You can mention it in privacy but only if you’re wanting him to fuck you and show you his dominant side~

Mammon

Mammon has the libido of a teenage boy already, but his heat makes it even worse! Mammon has a hard time expressing his actual feelings but he has no issue finding a one night stand or something to help him through his heat, before you show up he goes into heat four times in a year and each time he shamelessly goes searching for some dick. When I say shameless I mean shameless! Mammon doesn’t care who finds out about his random flings and he really doesn’t care if he gets caught doing the walk of shame, he got fucked the way he wanted and that’s what matters. He also has no shame in telling you he’s in heat the first time it happens with you around.

Mammon becomes even more clingy than he already was, following you everywhere and holding onto your shirt for comfort, he steals your jackets/hoodies so he can smell you on him all the time, he sleeps in your room the entire week unless he can convince you to sleep in his. He’s so incredibly horny the entire week, he wants you to fuck him constantly. He has major wet dreams about you and wakes up just to give you needy kisses while reaching between your legs and whining that he wants you. If you buy him a gold collar with your name on the tag he’ll wear it every day while in heat! In fact, that’s how you know he’s going into/just gone into heat, he’ll come down to breakfast with his collar showing under his uniform and give you a very loving and timid kiss on the cheek hoping you’ll reward him for being a good boy. He loves wearing it in public so people know he’s yours, he loves to feel owned. He’s so bad during his heat that the only way to get him to focus on anything besides your cock is to make him wear a butt plug while in class, it scratches the itch just enough to get him through the day, but once he’s home he’s on the floor begging for you. Mammon will do anything for you, he just needs you to fuck him. He’ll suck you off and give the sloppiest head, drool all over his face while he fucks himself on a dildo, he’d cry if you let him 69. Grab the back of his head and face fuck him, he’ll moan with tears in his eyes, his cock steadily dripping precum on the floor. Strip him down with just his pretty collar on and watch him play with himself, he loves watching you get hard while he teases himself and he’s quick to roll over and stick his ass in the air for you. Mammon doesn’t care where you fuck him, he’s in your lap constantly trying to feel you pressed against his ass, fuck him on the hood of his car though and he’s in love while screaming your name. He wants you to fill him with your cum, don’t stop until it’s leaking back out of his ass and even then give him more, he wants you to breed him until his legs are numb. Once he’s out of heat he’s quick to act like he did that all for you, obviously you needed to know what it was like to fuck him, not the other way around. (He’s full of shit and is in your lap blushing so hard later that night thanking you for taking care of him)

Leviathan

This kinky bitch. Levi is the ultimate 5,000 year old virgin and his heat cycle reminds him of that constantly. Levi goes into heat 3-4 times a year and there’s no way of knowing when he’ll have that extra week. Since he spent all his time locked up before you arrived anyway his brothers never knew when he was in heat and would knock on his door during the worst moments unknowingly. Being a shut in he of course had to satisfy his needs on his own, but it always felt unfulfilling, no matter how many dildos, butt plugs, cock rings, or vibrators he used he just couldn’t get the fire to die down. He would watch the filthiest porn or hentai while fucking himself in hopes of achieving that satisfied feeling but it still didn’t work. He’s so shy about telling you, but the first heat he goes into with you around he creams himself just from hearing your voice.

Leviathan is horribly shy about asking for sex normally (until you have an established relationship) but once he goes into heat he’s a little more upfront about it. He follows you everywhere, he wants to be with you constantly (just like Mammon which leads to different events), he’ll bring you his box of toys and let you pick what to use on him. He’s a slut for degradation anyway but during heat you could step on him and he’d cum. Make him wear a vibrating cockring and turn it up during class, whisper in his ear that he looks pathetic trying to grind into the feeling, hug him from behind and palm his cocks. He’s another one that wants to wear a collar with your name in public but he likes the embarrassment it causes him, he loves when you tease him about being your toy, he fidgets with the tag all day and can feel himself throb when you call him your fleshlight. Levi loves to cockwarm you, let him sit in your lap while the two of you play video games, let him solo and thrust up into him whenever he wins a level. He’s quick to drop the controller and watch as you stroke both his cocks and fuck up into him, his head falling back against your shoulder but eyes staying focused on your hands. Levi has dreamed about having someone breed him for years so when you pin him against the wall and pull his hair while you fuck him his eyes roll back in delight. He forgets how to speak, just a string of curses and whimpers, quickly reaching his climax but don’t stop, fuck don’t stop! He wants you to keep going until you’re empty, he wants to feel used and full, he’ll curl up next to you on the bed while you catch your breath and tell you how bad he wants you still, he’s your kinky little otaku to fuck stupid. Once out of heat Levi is overly embarrassed by how he acted, turning red anytime you mention how he begged for you or how he would sit at your feet and whine, it won’t stop him from doing the same thing again next time though.

Satan

Satan is so frustrated by going into heat, he wants to be fucked so badly but he doesn’t trust anyone enough to be vulnerable and submissive like that. Luckily Satan only goes into heat twice a year, otherwise he’d be a mess. He tries so hard to suppress his feelings, not wanting to look weak compared to his brothers who aren’t experiencing this intense sensation. He has a few toys to help satiate his lust but he desperately wants the real thing, he wants someone to fuck him ruthlessly, to be rough and harsh while they tell him what a pretty boy he is, he wants to be fucked until he can’t think. He’s so glad he’s built enough trust in you before his first heat comes around~

Satan’s wrath takes a back seat and instead he gets jealous, not in an aggressive way but a whiny brat way. He’ll pout if you give his brothers attention when he’s sitting there dying for you to touch him, he wants you to focus on him, he wants to be good for you. Satan loves when you put him in a mating press, you watch his eyes gloss over when you bottom out and he holds onto your shoulders for dear life. His mouth hangs open and his tongue sticks out a little, no words form just moans and whimpers. Satan only has two requests: fuck him hard and fuck him fast. He wants the whole bed the shake when you rail him, his cock smacking against his stomach and coating it in slick while you fuck him, it makes him dizzy. Make him beg for you, Satan will gladly sit on the floor between your legs and watch you stroke yourself, drooling at the sight and whimpering while he ruts against the floor or your leg. Because of his fear of looking weak in front of the others he only lets you fuck him behind closed doors, the fact that they can hear him scream your name along with “fuck yes, harder! Harder!” never seems to register with him. Once his heat subsides Satan is willing to discuss it with you more than you thought. He wants to know if you enjoyed it just as much as he did, if he should do something different to signal for assistance, he’s such a curious cat.

Asmodeus

No one can ever tell when Asmo is in heat except Solomon. Asmodeus is always ready to go so it’s difficult to pin point what’s heat behavior and what’s just normal horny Asmo. Solomon knows however because he gets to see the side of the fifth born no one else does, the whiny pouts, the thigh rides he gets when they make out, the texts begging for him to come over after class, the remote that controls the cock ring and anal plug that Asmo wore to RAD. Solomon has been assisting Asmo with his heat cycle for years and he’s thrilled when you become a new pact mate for the insatiable Avatar of Lust.

Asmo has no problem telling you he’s in heat, he’s never been shy about telling you when he’s horny so why start now? He’ll become very handsy, he’ll sit in your lap and run his fingers up and down your arms, he’ll give you a look that screams “make me yours”. His favorite thing is to invite Solomon over and have you both use him, taking turns filling his ass with cum, making him suck on one cock while the other fucks his ass once more, having him suck on both of you at once while you and Solomon make out. He loves all of it, there’s no such thing as overstimulation for him in this state, he just wants more. Remember when Solomon taught you the spell to change your body so you could help the brothers? Yeah well here’s where you pay the price, Solomon has spent years satisfying Asmo’s Lust so now he (with your permission) wants you to satisfy his. He uses the spell to change you mid session so he can keep you on edge, Asmo is thrilled having a new toy to play with, watching you and Solomon rile each other up only to spit roast him in the end, making him gag and choke while he cums for the sixth time that night. Asmo loves to talk about his heat, asking you if he looks prettier when he bottoms or tops, asking if you’ll try a new position on him next time…or tonight if you want~

Beelzebub

Our big sweet boy never understands when he goes into heat, the feeling is similar to Rut so he tries to satiate the feeling the same way he would during Rut season but it never works. He’s had flings to try and fuck the feeling away but even after he cums a fourth time his body still runs hot and his stomach still aches. It doesn’t help that he goes into heat four times a year, each time he’s just as upset because the feeling won’t go away. He’ll hump his pillow at night to try and stop it but he’s just left with wet pants and more frustration, it gets to the point that he’ll rut against anything for relief, the kitchen counter, the couch, his bed, the shower wall, he just wants the burning to stop. You’re the only thing that’s ever helped him.

Beelzebub didn’t tell you he was in heat because he didn’t really know himself, but you could tell from the way he humped against the kitchen counter one night after walking around with a massive boner all day. You stood behind him, slid one hand down his sweatpants, started to stroke slowly and felt his precum coat your hand instantly. Beel’s quick to pull his pants down and watch you work, for the first time ever the fire in his gut was finally subsiding, he cums fast and in copious amounts while moaning and bucking into your fist. He’s so grateful…but he needs more. Beel isn’t used to being a sub, he’s always on top or the power bottom, so giving you full control is new for him but he wants it so bad. Be gentle when you fuck him the first time, it’s uncharted territory for him, prep him, give him kisses, stroke his cock, tell him how pretty he is and make him feel comfortable before you slide in. Once you’re in he’s hooked, grabbing at you to be closer to him as you thrust into him over and over, fuck him from behind and he’ll move his hips to fuck himself on you, his moans are so loud the whole house knows what’s happening. He’s quick to stroke himself while you fill his ass, letting your thrusts push him into his fist faster, he loves the way you feel balls deep in his ass. Once he’s out of heat he’s happy to return the favor, he loves the way you spoil him so it’s only fair that he does the same to you, it’s not his fault you can’t walk straight afterwards.

Belphegor

Belphie’s heat is a nuisance to him, mainly because he goes into heat 13 times in a year before meeting you. That’s what happens when you get locked up, away from any social or physical contact, and left only with yourself. While trapped in the attic with no help from a mate or toys Belphie became aggressively needy, his heat making him an absolute mess, sheets stained with cum and sweat. His eyes full of tears while fucking his fist or slipping fingers in his ass, he’s so full and needs relief bad but he can’t seem to do it on his own. His nipples become extra sensitive when he goes into heat, he’s been known to lactate even with the right touch. Belphie actually goes into heat shortly after meeting you while still trapped in the attic, he hates you for doing this to him…or so he tells himself.

With most demons there’s not really a way to know what sends them into heat, it just happens, but with Belphie it’s a little different because it happens so often. The first time you kiss him he knows what’s happening soon, his whole body runs hot and his mind goes wild, he can feel that familiar warmth in his stomach building. He tries to ignore it but he can’t, he’s so hard it’s painful, he wants you so bad he can’t sleep. So he’ll come to you on his knees begging, big wet eyes looking up at you, cheeks a bright pink, he’ll whine and beg and tell you to use him how you see fit. Belphie is a whore when in heat, he wants you to use him constantly. Shove his face into the mattress, hold his horns while you fuck his ass, pull on his tail. Sit him in your lap while you fuck him, press his back against your chest, pinch on his sensitive nipples with one hand and choke him with the other, call him your slut, call him the filthiest names possible and watch his cock spurt out precum when you do. Of course this is Belphie so he loves when you fuck him slowly in his sleep too, stroking his cock and making him cum without waking him. He has zero shame so he’ll let you fuck him wherever, the bedroom, the kitchen, the planetarium, the library, anywhere as long as you cum in him multiple times. Luckily once you two start messing around he goes into heat less often, dropping down to only six times a year but he’s still just as bratty. If you’re in class when he goes into heat you can expect tons of explicit pictures, some with him using toys, other of just his hands doing their best, always captioned with some desperate plea for you to come home. When you do get home Belphie is already face down on his bed, stripped completely and ass covered in lube thanks to the various toys he’s been using all day, he’ll moan watching you undress and then spread himself open for you impatient to have you fuck him dumb. Once he’s out of heat he’s an even bigger brat than usual the first few days, acting out and trying to get your attention but it’s just because he feels vulnerable after being so submissive.

Three’s Company ✨

• Beel & Belphie normally love sharing you but when they go into heat they absolutely refuse. It’s a very sensitive time for them and they would rather have you one on one, which can be difficult when they synch up. Because the twins spend so much time together it’s not unusual for them to go into heat around the same time, they love each other and will make sure the other is safe/comfortable but they do get fussy about time with you. It can be a pain at first but once you figure out a routine they’re very easy to deal with.

• Leviathan & Mammon for some reason synch up quite often and surprisingly don’t mind sharing you. They both love to have you put their collars on and degrade them, make them sit on their knees and watch you play with yourself until they’re begging to touch you, make them fight over who gets fucked first, see who will moan the loudest for you.

• To their absolute dismay, Lucifer & Satan occasionally go into heat at the same time. They get so grumpy about it, neither one wants the other to know how weak and submissive they are currently but they can’t resist the way you tease them. Calling them your bad boys for always fighting, telling them that if they got along better you might reward them…well, maybe they could…if it’s for you. The fire in their stomachs and their throbbing erections from how much you tease them far out ways their petty arguments. They’ll agree to share you…if they both wear blindfolds and can’t see the other’s blissed out face when you fuck them.

#obey me smut #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me lucifer smut #obey me beelzebub smut #obey me mammon smut #obey me satan smut #midnight thirsts #obey me leviathan smut #obey me asmo smut #obey me belphegor smut

[cosmicstarlatte]

Devil-Mart ⭐ (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

You got hired at mega retailer, Devil-Mart⭐. Naturally, the guys "suddenly" need a job too and start working alongside you.

»Characters: Demon Bros + Bonus Dia and Barb

»Tags: Humor, Bulleted Style fic, Gender Neutral Reader/MC

»Notes: How about shopping with them?-> [Devil-Mart: Shopping]

Lucifer:

"...Mammon put us in debt this month."

Was worried you'd be bullied (or eaten) surrounded by demons/other monsters

Is that coworker who acts like a boss

Actually does make it to management within the first week

The customer isn't always right. He's the manager to call for rude customers

Actually likes stocking, finds neat aisles soothing

The home improvement dept is his favorite

Frequently makes sure you take all your breaks

Doubles as store security if needed

Mammon:

"I just needed extra cash alright?"

Was worried you'd fall for some other demon

Failed in all departments except online orders (he's very fast!)

Bags for orders would occasionally go missing

Took extra long breaks but Lucifer caught on and wrote him up

Would try to frequently visit you in your department

Started fights with other workers who were busier staring at you than their work

"They're not meat, beat it!"

Got fired for trying to steal electronics

Levi:

"Theres a lot of new merch releases coming up soon!"

Didn't want to be the only one left out so he applied...plus you won't see him anymore!

Electronics department ONLY

You won't find him cross trained anywhere else, he refuses

Is actually really good with upselling

Can be aggressive if you don't go with his recommendations

Has received a few complaints for that reason

Tries to match his breaks with you since that's the only time he really gets to see you

Was the one who tattled on Mammon

Satan:

"This is for research."

A lie he almost believes but knows he just wants to be near you

Works the same department as you so you see each other all day

Never put him on registers or customer service

Almost got into a fight on the first day

Retail is rough for him but he does it for you

Complains to Demon Resources about Lucifer daily

Asmo:

"Ugh...a job!? I'm gonna cry. Oh but my fans would love if I relate to them! And your job will be fun with me there!"

Upfront about his reason lol

Refused to do anything except customer service

Just stands back and talks to customers while the coworker alongside him completes any transactions

Makes DevilToks on the clock

Frequently leaves his spot to talk to you and Satan

Gets all the work gossip

Lucifer never catches on

"You know, this isn't so bad! I'm such a good worker right!?"

Gets employee of the month

Beel:

"I don't like the thought of you surrounded by demons alone. This isn't RAD."

Aalajffkslsjda the cutest honest protector

Is cross trained everywhere but

Never put him near grocery ever again

Likes to work with you if he gets the chance

Usually works in the backroom unloading and back stocking things

Has a doctors note that let's him take frequent breaks for eating

His favorite department overall is security because Lucifer gives him extra treats if he prevents high valued thefts

Belphie:

"I'm here because I have things I would like to have."

Is there an extra meaning to that?

Works in the back with Beel usually

Takes frequent naps in hidden areas of the backroom

Pretends to look busy if Lucifer is around

Also complains to Demon Resources about Lucifer daily

Fights with Levi on your breaks because he also wants to spend time with you when he can

Is the reason some coworkers don't approach you

He makes it known to not fuck with you

Diavolo heard you started a new job alongside the brothers! He goes to visit with Barbatos in tow.

Diavolo:

"Can I get a little help here?"

Flirts with you while on the clock. He thinks the red vest on you is cute!

Was wowed by the store in general

(Normally Barbatos does the shopping alone)

Liked sampling the food that was around the store

Was tempted to apply but Barbatos shut it down

Took a photo of Lucifer in his manager clothes

Barbatos:

"Seeing you here will make my shopping trips more enjoyable."

Praises your work

Did have to go to customer service to complain and ran into Asmo

Didn't believe Asmo was gonna clean the restrooms but at least the complaint was taken

Takes a survey and compliments you

Has to fight Dia to get him off the racecar cart

"It's for parents with children my lord."

Returns the cart to the cart corral like an upstanding citizen

My first bulleted story post lol. I had fun with this & hope to make more in the future. <3

⬦You might also like: Coconut︱Mexican Restaurant︱Waffle House︱You ARE The Father

#obey me headcanons #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me gn!reader #obey me gn!mc #cosmic posty post #crossposted on ao3 #obey me humor #obey me shitpost #◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹ #shitpostcifer

[evilminji]

Okay but >.> continuing my Marvel thoughts?

I got two of um?

First being? Don't Orange and Green go together? *looks it up* Aaaaaay~ "Direct harmony, also known as complementary colors, means pairing your key color with the color sitting on the opposite side of the color wheel." They DO!!! They're a classic example, in fact!

The Orange Soul Stone? Probably looks REAL good, real NATURAL even, against that Green sky! Bet it REALLY pops! Very stand out statement piece, you know? But? More importantly? That thing is sentient. All of those Pillars of Reality across the various Verses are.

And?

I bet it thought Pariah was a lil bitch.

Rank Vibes. Negative ris. Pick your words for it, the man was NASTY. He was too keep his filthy, filthy World's Conquering hands OFF of this Soul Stone. Something, I imagine? That ALL the Soul Stones agreed with.

Yes, I said all of um.

Because the various Realities each need their own. But! They can and DO work from the Zone, which is the PERFECT place to hide. And honestly? They like to get together and do this thing? Where they're all "oooh~ look at US! We are SUPER IMPRESSIVE Kingly Jewelry~☆! Definitely no important reality bending Rocks Of Great Power HERE! No SIR! We're just tooootally rad jeeeeewelryyyyy~~~☆! Oooooooh~☆"

They like to have fun. :3

Hope Danny likes Orange. Ha ha... trick question. He doesn't have a CHOICE! All SORTS of Death based Reality Pillars are rocking up, in their metaphorical Gucci sweat suits and shades with a margarita, going "oh thank ME, babe. The last guy was AWFUL! You're soooo much better? Now let me rub myself all over you. It's been ages and baby needs to recharge on Death Energy."

Danny hates it? So? So much?

He looks like a GAUDY PIRATE. *nnnnnnyooom!* *THWAP!* *Another reality shaking, highly sacred, Godly Staff of Death or whatever they decided to call it, flys in through a nearby window and nearly concusses him as it smacks itself against his upper back and sticks there*

He looks like a walking junk heap of sacred artifacts.

You ever been pelted by rocks? He has! Little orange rocks! Like fucked up hail! Welcome to kinghood, Danny, have a CONCUSSION! D:< he hates it!

But... but, I mean... At Least It's Not The SWORDS. (Panicked scream of "hit the deck!" from the other room.) (Holy sword number 15 wants to CUDDLE! Bare blade first! Dodge, your Majesty! DODGE!)

So yeah.

Danny? In A MOOD. Not feeling particularly FRIENDLY. It's not anyone's fault, really. But... well... you can't exactly negotiate with these fuckers, you know? Rocks are by NATURE, kinda stubborn.

So he's sitting there. Buried. With what he's pretty sure is a sacred text digging into his side. When a... glowing? Mist? Shows up? Huh. That's new. They don't seem to have a very clear image of "Self". Yet it's crystal clear? Just not... PHYSICAL? It's more... code? He thinks?

TECHNUS! Get over here! And behave!

There is much cooing and delight from Technus. The baby is a marvel. A wonder! Danny waits patiently for Technus to get to the point.

Ah.

He would like to "go back". His Obsession is demanding it.

IS it now? You're what? Maybe a day or so dead? You've been busy, if you've already gathered enough information to make your case like this. Alright, let's hear it, little guy.

It boils down to this. His obsession in death is the same as his primary directive was in life. Protect Mr Stark. Which is especially difficult to do from HERE. Even MORE so when there is a known threat, coming too...

WAIT, WHAT!?

The Souls Stones back him up. Oh yeah. Thanos' a lil bitchbaby loser. He's trying to make Death fall in love with him. Or "balance the universe". Depends on the reality. Totally throwing EVERYTHING out of whack.

And? Look. Danny's job? Isn't to interfere if countries kill each other. Or even planets. Nor entire galaxies, as much as he'd like too. But when you get too "I'm messing with Entire Realities or all of a Singular Reality at once in the specific depart of Death and its subsidiaries" territory? THAT is his job.

Might not be a "I personally have to show up" issue. But it still IS very much his job at that point. He has to delegate. Order the appropriate steps be taken. Cause yeah, there may be countless millions every day of such instances? But it IS his job to metaphorically order the roads repaired and the building inspected.

Sudden MASS "immigration"?

That causes Lair disputes. Confusion. Too many ghosts in too small an area. And WORSE, if people start playing with Death Pillars? The Zone might get dragged into whatever nonsense they're up too! It's like children playing with heavy machinery! Put that DOWN! Cease! Desist!!

And then? Clockwork shows up looking Mildly Miffed(TM). O:> dear lord. What madness has he stumbled upon? Oh. Oh of COURSE. First the "balancing" dude and now they're going to be playing with time travel. THATS IT. Someone unburying me!

I'm gonna go menace some humans that might actually believe I'm scary! Frighty! Pack up and shine your armor! Your coming too! We're escorting the baby home then have a Talk(tm) with the local Grape Ceral!

@hypewinter @lolottes @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe @hdgnj

#dp x marvel #dpxmarvel #dp x mcu

[getonite]

𝗪𝗘 𝗚𝗢𝗧 𝗔 𝗖𝗢𝗗𝗘 𝟲𝟰𝟳 𝗙𝗥𝗢𝗠 𝗠𝗥. 𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗥𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗥

💿: 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗢𝗡𝗘 2 3 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘶 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. ꒰ this track is a top, male!reader one, which includes: cunnilingus, fingering, descriptions of female anatomy, corruption kink, squirting, a.k.a smut ꒱

contrary to popular belief, suguru geto is a virgin. yes, he is popular with the ladies, more than satoru, and yet, none of them have even ghosted his skin. you, on the otherhand, were much more popular with the men and the ladies than the two of them ever could be. suguru wondered how someone his age could be catching girls like that. and he's sure you've fucked the innocence out of every single one of them.

although, who wouldn't be attracted to you? despite how calm suguru is on the inside, he cannot deny how infatuated he is with you. its like he knows you could fulfill every need of his.

his eyes are often glued to your hands, natural veins showing as you expertly twirl a pencil between your fingers. his eyes glued to both your arms and hands when you offered to take care of him while he was sick. he watched two of your fingers dip into the water. the two gliding and creating ripples on the surface. the position at which you bent down, made your arms seem stronger. his pussy clenched when those two fingers tapped the edge of the bath.

and he again asks himself. who wouldn't want you? and when he got his answer he reflected back onto the hate he had for your rooms to be right next to each other. his answer was: no one. everyone wants you, and it was clear when you brought your "girlfriend of the week" as satoru called it, to the dorms.

he cursed himself for getting turned on to the sound of your voice. he cursed himself for wishing it was him that you were fucking in your room.

he should leave, maybe walk to satoru's room down the hall? he should cover his ears and go to sleep. but you sound so, soft and gentle, while you steal someone's innocence.

"its okay. i'll be gentle"

"ah, good."

"sh sh. i know, i know. but you don't wanna wake up my friend now do you?"

"good job, baby. your doing so good."

surguru relished in your softness, imagining it was him you were speaking to. he wondered if he'd like it slow and soft until he heard you no longer being soft. you'd had your fill of being the nice guy, and instead decided to indulge in corrupting another with your cock.

he listened to her whimpers and the chuckling from you, praying to whatever god listening, that it'd be his turn. he never thought his prayers would be answered.

and regardless if suguru knew or not, you were listening, watching. you knew he had an ungodly infatuation with your hands, with you. that's why you spread your clothed legs, twirling the pencil in between your fingers until you snapped it with the strength of them.

you knew damn well he was awake that night. while you were focused on the pussy before you, you wondering what the suguru was thinking on the other side of the wall.

you were fully aware he liked you, but you were waiting for him to make the move. silently and patiently you waited, and waited. you gave him sweet smiles that had something hidden behind them. you gave him quick little touches and views of your happy trail when you sparred. you waited.

and your patience was rewarded.

although, imagine the surprise when he so timidly shuffles off his pants. there's no tent in his boxers, but they are damp. your eyes narrow with intrigue, the corner of your lips twitching. "go ahead lay down, baby," you say softly, to which he listens.

"c'mon. spread your legs," you smile softly at him, being so careful and gentle. your hands slide off his boxers, the sudden breeze making his pussy clench. you don't smile because you smile because the boxers are wet, or because his legs were flexing and twitching in anticipation. you were grinning because you can practically feel the innocence radiating offf of him. you sit straight up and pull his hips to your lap, his legs on either side of you. "suguru, are you a virgin?"

you gently rub his thighs, looking down at him with a small smile. "huh? oh, y—yea."

he watches your head tilts to the side at his answer, you noticing how embarrassed he was to voice that. a hum leaves your lips as you began gliding your hands along his skin, watching in amusement at the twitches and jerks his body is making. "hey, relax. im just touchin', baby."

you smile at him, kneading the skin of his thighs, feeling his muscles tense and relax. "you know how your anatomy works, right? what it looks like?" your words soft and your touch even softer.

when he doesn't answer, you frown. his eyes are anywhere but yours. you tap his thigh, "look at me."

suguru obeys and hesitantly looks up at you, chewing on the corner of his lip from your frown. a sigh leaves your lips. you shake your head and the frown turns—condescending?

"tsk, tsk, tsk. never looked down there once, hm? i have to say, baby—im disappointed," you look down at him, its clear your frown his fake, but he hates seeing you look at him like that. "guess we'll have to fix that."

suguru's eyebrows twitch at your words. "huh?"

you look down at him with a smile before reaching over to your nightstand. searching the drawer he watches you grab a large handheld mirror. he watches you put the handle in his hand. you hold his wrist as you speak, "spread your legs a bit more. good." you push his thighs back so his legs are propped up and spread.

your hands guide his, pointing the mirror to the sight between his legs. the smile on your face grows when you hear his breath hitch. that's what i look like?! you can practically hear his thoughts and decide to answer. "yes, that is what you look like."

"so perfect," you whisper as he looks. his glistening folds in his view, his clit—dick red and in need. "have you touched yourself before?"

a sigh leaves your lips, when he doesn't answer. another disappointed look on your face. "seems we'll have to fix that too." your hands are still delicately touching his body, squeezing his hips and thumbs tracing the columns his abs underneath his shirt.

"wait. please don't tell we're—!" suguru starts to speak before you interrupt. as if reading his mind, you know what to say.

"calm down, we're not doing everything tonight. step by step, okay?" you lean down and press a kiss to his thigh. "relax."

you smile when suguru nods, tilting your head when his arms starts to fall down. you grab his wrist and put his arm where it was. "did i say you could put your arm down? keep it up until i say otherwise, yes?"

he nods. "words, suguru."

"yes."

"good boy," you coo and press a kiss to his ankle.

suguru was expecting you to be dominant, yes. he thought he knew what he was getting into. his mind was changed when he saw the look in your eyes. your lips pressed to his skin with hunger in your eyes, as if you wish to corrupt him.

"how about we do something simple today, yeah?" a sickeningly sweet smile on your face. your finger gliding in between his folds, his eyes glued to your actions as you do. "what's that?" he questions softly, you notice his arm start to shake.

"cunnilingus," you grin. "you okay with that, baby?"

he nods, but you see a hint of confusion behind his eyes. you chuckle, "oral." you silently grab the mirror and put his arm down. "we'll use that later," you mumble and set it on your nightstand with a wink. "though, i need an actual answer, my love."

"yes!" he answers immediately. "...yes. im okay with that."

he sees the corner of your lips twitch. you move back on the bed, laying on your stomach in between his legs. his legs twitch when you press a kiss to his skin. your lips kissing his hips, sliding to his thigh. your lips so gentle, kissing along his skin, touching him so delicately.

his hips twitch when you press a kiss to his dick, your breath fanning over his folds. your hands are stationed at his hips, keeping them to the sheets. "relax, baby." you hear a sound leave his lips when your breath hits him.

your hands slide from his hips, ghosting over his pelvis to rest right in between his thighs. your thumbs gently glide along his folds before spreading them for you. he hears you groan in between his legs. "so damn beautiful. i hate myself for waiting so long," you whisper, licking a stripe between his folds.

"hm, if someone took this before me, i would've killed them," your words muffled as you mumble into his cunt.

suguru whines as you speak into his pussy, thighs twitching as you slowly taste him. licking and sucking his clit, eagerly yet slowly shoving your tongue inside of him. "ah! a—wait!" he whines, fingers tangled in your hair as he fails at whatever goal he was trying to accomplish. you smile at his actions, wondering if he wants to pull you close or push you away. he probably doesn't know himself.

your gentle at first, letting him get used to the feeling, sneakily sliding some of your finger in his cunt. "ngh—ah! ah, wha...you didn't say—" his words get interrupt by another moan, your tongue expertly circling clit, your finger slowly pumps in an out of him, a little more sliding in every time.

he's sure he's soaking your finger by now, cheeks burning in embarassment from his imagination. when you slide your finger in again, its to the hilt this time. he feels vibration on his clit, realizing your talking. "oh, look at that. you can fit a whole finger in here already?" he whines from the vibrations, thighs tensing and relaxing.

you kiss his clit again. "hm, did you know the vaginal opening can expand up to 3 times during arousal? seems that's true even after testosterone injections," you lock eyes with him as you speak, relishing in the pleasured look on his face.

"n—no, i didn't," suguru whispers, you note how his voice is a bit raspy. you chuckle, "well, you learn something new everyday."

your lips and tongue go back to tasting him, the movement of your finger getting a bit faster. suguru notices the previous gentleness of your tongue is no longer there.

the grip he has on your hair gets tighter, his back arching slightly. he whines when you remove your finger, only for it to be replaced by your tongue. his eyes start to tear up when he recognizes it. that hunger you had in your eyes before, you gave into it.

girlish whimpers and moans leaving his lips as you eat him out as if your starved. as if his pussy was the only thing that could satiate the overwhelming hunger you harbored. "mm, you taste s'good." you lick another stripe between his folds. "i think im getting addicted to this."

if your voice didn't turn him on before, it definitely did now. you no longer refrain from being vocal. the moans and groans you let out while you have him, ridiculously turn him on.

"oh, oh! ang—ah! p—please!" his moans are music to your ears, his pussy soaking your chin even if he hasn't cum yet.

your lips wrap around his clit and suck harshly. he practically screams and loses it. his back arched, hair resting around his head as a crown, and hips stuttering as he squirts—all over your face. he probably thinks otherwise, but he's like in angel in your eyes.

you open your mouth and swallow, stroking his tense thighs gently, slowly grounding him. fat tears roll down his cheeks, as you hear him suck in breaths.

his hips slowly start to lower as his orgasm ends. with his release dripping down your chin and neck your grin, licking your lips. "looks like your a squirter," you comment, one of your hands rubbing up and down his chest. you see him struggling with his breathing.

"hey, hey. it's okay, breathe baby," you coo encouraging words, returning back to your gentle self as you help him. "you can do it, breathe."

a smile graces your face when he sucks in a large breath, his body finally relaxing. "good job. you did so good." your touch grounds him as he slowly relaxes. "im proud of you." his eyes look over at you, eyelids heavy, a sleepy smile on his face.

"how'd you like your like your first orgasm?"

"good. it felt so good," suguru whines, still panting slightly. "imagine what it'll feel like when im finally in you. but, we'll wait for that one. let me get you some water and then you rest." suguru nods, watching you leave, more embarassment settling on him when he realizes just how much of a mess he made.

you fetch him some water and clean your face, smiling softly when you return to find him asleep. "well someone was sleepy..."

you set down the glass of water and lean down, pressing a kiss to his forehead, putting the sheets over him. "ooh, i hope your excited for what i do to you next," you whisper, palming your erection through your pants.

i may have gotten that fact wrong. ill double check, but the first part is done!

#💿: “𝘔𝘙. 𝘊𝘏𝘌𝘙𝘙𝘠 𝘗𝘖𝘗𝘗𝘌𝘙” ⋆｡°✩ #𝗖𝗢𝗗𝗘 𝟲𝟰𝟳 ⋆｡°✩ #𝟲𝟰𝟳 ꒰ suguru geto ꒱ #💿: 𝘔𝘊𝘗 — 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗢𝗡𝗘 #💿: “afab!geto” ⋆｡°✩ #geto x male reader #suguru geto x male reader #sub suguru geto #afab!geto #jjk x male reader #jjk smut #geto smut

[astaroth1357]

We Need To Talk About Nightbringer (the Person, Not the Game)

I'm still scratching my head over what Nightbringer's goal is here... How is MC involved? Why send them back in time? And, of course, who are they??

SPOILERS Up to Lesson 12 Below Cut

The Fuck is the Goal Here??

Sending the MC back just to form pacts makes no goddamn sense. If the MC acquiring pacts was the real aim, then that mission was already accomplished in the present-day. There's something more here.

Why send MC back to RIGHT NOW? What about making pacts AT THIS TIME is desirable to Nightbringer? Is the end game even having the pacts at all...?

I posit that Nightbringer wants war, specifically, another war between angels and demons. The imagery of scales brings to mind the fragile balance of peace that Diavolo was mentioning between the realms before. RAD isn't built yet, his goal to improve relations is still in its infancy, and the times are so tumultuous that MC risks an all out fight starting just being there. So if Nightbringer wants to make things come to blows, then this is the PERFECT time to send them to.

However...

What is this "path to happiness" all about? What does Nightbringer think will make the MC most happy...? And what about THEIR happiness is linked to his? Is he assuming that in a war of the three realms, MC would side with the demons and thus if demons win then MC will be glad? That doesn't really track with the MC as presented in game... They're generally shown as a peacemaker or bridge builder. I don't think a war would make them happy at all!

Ultimately, I don't think we can answer this question in any way that makes sense until we have a better idea of WHO Nightbringer is so....

Who is Nightbringer??

It's Barbs

This goes for any version of Barbs: past, present, future, or even an alternate self I guess. This only makes sense because we're dealing with a demon who does time travel and there's only one demon we know who fits this bill but... why?

I can't imagine any reason why Barbatos would betray Diavolo, at least the one we know. This guy is so loyal to his lord that he's the ONLY character who won't completely kowtow to MC's whims even in the OG game. His true loyalty was always to Diavolo. Not the realm, not demons, DIAVOLO. And if Diavolo seeks peace, then why on earth would Barbs want to cause a war?? Is he more bitter about things than we thought...?

If it's a different version of Barbs, then I guess this goes out the window, but even then what's an alternate Barbs care about this world specifically? What would he hope to gain? MC? Why?? The means are all here, but I just can't figure out the motive, so...

It's Not Barbs, but Connected to Barbs

You know. I've been thinking a lot about this and I've been considering how, thematically, it could be appropriate for Diavolo not to be the only one with a progenitor/parental figure out of commission. We can assume that Daddy Devil must of had an attendant like Barbatos to aid him like Dia has Barbs so...

What if Nightbringer is the old King's previous attendant? And what's more, what if they aren't Barbs but related to Barbs? Like a sibling or parent? It's important to note that Barbs' time capabilities are not INTERNAL to him. It's his room of doorways to other timelines. Presumably, anybody with sufficient knowledge could inherit that room and just take over the role of the Devildom's time lord.

I know it goes against all of our previous notions to think that Barbatos was, at some point, just an everyday demon and not some primordial, OG force of nature but none of that was canon anyway. Something to think about.

It's Michael

I know people keep offering up this one, but I'm really not buying it... Yeah, Michael has always been this looming, shady figure over the OM universe and he's canonically and non-canonically done some eyebrow raising shit, but what's the motive here? Plus, Nightbringer's thematic ties to, well, night really feel more demon than angel... The Celestial Realm is always sunny, the Devildom is always dark. I think it's just a stretch...

Michael wanting another war could be interesting, especially since we've seen far more of angels being actively antagonistic to demons than the other way around, but I don't think that makes him Nightbringer. At most, he could end up being a shadow ally in his plot to bring everything to a head once again.

It's Solomon

In truth, even I don't think Nightbringer is the Solomon we're talking to. But I still think it's suspicious that all of this plays out so perfectly for our present-day Solo-pal... Personally, I take anything this guy tells us directly with a grain of salt since we know he'll lie openly, so here are the facts we're working with:

We are interacting with our present day Solomon (or at least one with knowledge of who we are and our timeline's events).

Solomon is the only one in this current space who knows of our full history in the OG timeline.

This Solomon put himself not only in the position of being the ONLY ONE who knows us that we can interact with, but happily isolated us from the brothers and made himself our main point of contact.

And last (and perhaps most importantly) HE'S STILL TRYING TO MAKE PACTS. He approaches Lucifer about it and successfully makes a pact with Asmo centuries before he's supposed to! If my guy is really from the present, that's like, Changing the Course of History 101! What the hell???

Let me present to you a theory. He is not present-day Solomon, sent back to help MC. He is past-Solomon, caught up to MC's identity through Barbs' time powers and just playing the part of our modern-day buddy. If he's from the past, he doesn't have to worry about changing the present timeline like we do because that ain't even him we've been speaking to. It feels like he has this bet going with Nightbringer... they have some kind of wager and MC is key to it. They're the one who'll tip the scales and Solomon is trying to get us to stay on his side.

It's Not Solomon, but Connected to Solomon

There's something off about Solomon that everybody, LITERALLY everybody, makes comments on: how he doesn't seem human anymore.

The OM timeline introduced the idea that a person can become something else, no matter what they started out as. The brothers were angels, but they fell, so they became demons. Simeon violated angel rules, so he was made into a human. The idea of corruption related to Solomon has always stuck in the back of my mind... The guy has over 70 pacts, he's lived for several centuries at least, and there's just something NOT RIGHT about him...

When Solomon and Nightbringer are speaking to each other, this line stuck out to me.

I find this comment so damn weird. If Nightbringer is a demon and has always been a demon, why would Solomon feel the need to lampshade this? He's pointing it out as if it's meant to get under Nightbringer's skin... Why state the obvious?

What if Nightbringer wasn’t always a demon?

Nightbringer refers to and brings up his demonness as much as Solomon brings up his humanness. That, to me, reeks of insecurity. They may not just be fighting on the lines between demons and humanity, but fighting each other/themselves to prove who's side they're actually on.

What if Nightbringer is a fully-corrupted Solomon? Either a Solomon in the future who's fucking around with the past or a Solomon in this timeline/dimension that's trying to use MC to cause destruction for his world??

..... Okay, I do know this is a bit of a reach. As much as I would love to blame the sorcerer, Nightbringer still seems like a being who's just... been around a while. Far too long to start fucking up shit now. It's possible that if he is from the future and just hopping through time, there's nothing stopping him from going back however far he wants to, but then you could get into the "You are your own grandfather" paradox and the next thing you know we're in another installment of Kingdom Hearts where time is our worst enemy.

HOWEVER, the idea of corruption DOES bring me to my wildest theory yet.

What if Nightbringer wants MC to become a demon...?

Think about it.

It could explain why Solomon is trying so hard to make MC remember and side with their humanity.

It could explain why Nightbringer sent them there under the guise of demon to start with.

It could be why he wants them to make their pacts again. He's trying to seduce them into fully embracing the demonic world through their connection with the brothers.

Humans die, right? Why not be a demon and not have to worry about it?

Throw away the Ring of Light.

Stay by your demons' sides.

Embrace the darkness.

Join the damned.

And when that big'ol battle that he wants happens, he'll have the most powerful sorcerer/sorceress, fully demonized, fighting for his side against God himself.

..... Or that's my spec script anyway. Probably too out there, but man would it be fun...

#my money is on option two #but option five would be WILD #or you know #my trust issues are acting up again #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me nightbringer spoilers #obey me nightbringer #obey me nightbringer theories #omn spoilers #omnb spoilers #obey me solomon #omn solomon #obey me barbatos #omn barbatos #obey me michael

[devildom-moss]

Mephisto's performance

(Mephisto x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (angst) (NSFW tags: very slight dom!top!Mephisto and bottom!MC; "office" sex, semi-public/risky, no condom, creampie, hate-fucking, "use me" dynamic, consent - but with a lot of regret so maybe dubious?, slight degradation with backhanded praise, Mephisto calling MC a whore and a slut, so slutshaming, pain, slapping, fingering light bondage, half-clothed, no orgasm for MC sorry)

(other tags: religious undertones, one-sided enemies to ?who knows?, sad/bittersweet ending)

Word Count: +2,200

To say you admired Mephistopheles was an understatement; you were absolutely smitten. Granted, he had a reputation for being a pompous asshole whose presence left a bitter taste in Lucifer’s mouth – the same mouth that warned you about spending time with the likes of Mephisto and questioned your recent attention to “a demon whose attitude and pride might be excusable if it was offset by actual wit and usefulness.”

Clearly, Lucifer either hadn’t seen the version of Mephisto that you had – the small slips in his bitter façade – or he had, and Lucifer simply refused to acknowledge it. You didn’t care what anyone else said about Mephisto. He had watched over Luke when he fell asleep in common places multiple times. As much as he protested, when you really needed him, he offered his assistance in whatever form he could – especially when it would aid Diavolo. If nothing else, Lucifer should have remembered that Mephisto was right there with Diavolo and Barbatos, tending to him and his brothers on the day they fell. You knew better. Mephisto was sweet.

He was adorable. You remembered the precious smile he had on his face while staring up at the new blossoms forming on the trees one early morning. It wasn’t the only time you had caught his face softening, entranced by some natural beauty. Mephisto still blushed when you would pay him a genuine compliment, covering his mouth with a gloved hand.

Sweet. Adorable. And so, so sexy.

Lust and affection had motivated you to pay Mephisto a visit in the RAD Newspaper Club room – another attempt to get on his good side. This time, you brought gifts to appease the bitter old demon: hot coffee and sweets that you and Luke had baked yesterday. However, the second you walked through that door, Mephisto let out an annoyed sigh.

“Why are you bothering me?” he asked, sparing you a second glance – but not a third.

“I wanted to cheer you up,” you admitted, setting your offering on his desk. “Diavolo told me that he had seen you working nonstop in preparation for the upcoming event. I figured that might be why you’ve been frowning every time I’ve seen you all week. I brought you coffee and sweets that Luke and I made.”

Part of you had an inkling that Mephisto actually enjoyed your company more than he let on. Maybe you were just clinging to a deeply engraved hope that he wanted you. Maybe you read into signs of his kindness towards you. Perhaps wishful thinking turned a two-second glance – maybe even a judgmental glare – into a longing stare. You wanted to break through his defenses if he’d let you. Well, you had certainly broken something.

Your act of kindness pushed Mephisto over the edge, and he looked up from his work and raised his voice at you. “I have too much on my plate to keep drilling this into that thick, fucking skull of yours. I don’t like you, you won’t change my mind, and that pathetic hopeful look on your face infuriates me.”

You didn’t fully believe him – as desperate as that may sound. Perhaps it was selfish, but you didn’t want to leave him alone in that room.

Mephisto waited for you to turn around and walk away, but you didn’t budge. He sighed and got to his feet. “What? Why are you still here? Why are you bringing me things hours before any of your classes even start? What do you want?”

Most classes hadn’t started yet, but if you hadn’t arrived before everyone else, you wouldn’t have been able to see Mephisto alone. Barbatos had mentioned that Mephisto was an early riser in passing once, so you figured you would find him overworking himself that morning. As for what you wanted, you wished it was more obvious to him.

“I want you to love me,” you confessed. Mephisto circled his desk so he could sandwich you between himself and the desk, blocking your path to the exit.

“How do you want me to love you? With my boot on your neck? With my fingers buried inside of you? With my hips pressed against you? What do you want? How do you expect me to love you? I could ruin you, but love?”

You shuddered. Was this a rejection or an invitation? You forced the words, and they fell out in a clumsy mess. “I don’t expect it – you loving me. I just want it, but you could ruin me instead if you wanted.”

Mephisto’s eyes widened; he retreated slightly before narrowing his eyes. “What are you saying?”

“Use me – if you really can’t love me.” Shame burned in your cheeks, but you continued. You were determined to call his bluff. “Take out your anger and hatred on my body. Do whatever you want.”

Maybe he truly hated you. Maybe he would be disgusted by your offer. Maybe he would refuse because he did love you. Or maybe he would agree to use you – to ruin you – without a trace of affection. Even then, at least you would finally get to be with him for however long you could manage to be entertaining. The possibilities ran through your head, just quick enough to fill the brief moment before Mephisto responded.

“Turn around,” he demanded. His voice was cold. In truth, you hadn’t expected him to take you up on your offer. Your heart sank as you watched Mephisto remove his tie. A low, growling sigh left him when you remained immobile. He took your arm and forced you to turn. “You offered. So, do as you’re told.”

Your voice caught in your throat. Mephisto made quick work of knotting his tie around your wrists and up your forearms, binding them behind your back. Fear washed over your body as you felt Mephisto tug your pants and underwear down to your ankles. Was this really what you wanted?

Mephisto reached over you, pressing his chest firmly against your back as he did, and pulled a bottle of lube from his top desk drawer. You didn’t question why he had it there, but you did have a question for him: “Why are you using that on me?”

The answer was obvious, but you were begging for some kind of affection from him, wishing for the words “I don’t want to hurt you” to leave his lips with enough sweetness to sate you, but they didn’t come. Instead, Mephisto removed his glove; tugged on his tie, bringing you closer; and shoved his glove into your mouth to shut you up. You felt one cool, lubricated finger plunge into you – quickly followed by a second. You bit down on his glove as he began to stretch you out.

“To answer your question, I’d be in a world of trouble if anyone found out that I hurt you. Everyone seems to think that you’re so fucking precious. Besides,” Mephisto paused, using the last word to soften the spite in his voice before he continued, “you’ll feel better if I do this first.”

You couldn’t tell if he meant that you would feel better for him or if he wanted you to feel some kind of pleasure from this too, but you hoped. However, that hope wasn’t enough to ease the heavy aching in your chest. Even through the bits of pleasure you felt when Mephisto’s long fingers curled into your body, you knew that this wasn’t how you wanted it. That truth sat rancid in your gagged mouth – somehow more unsavory than anything. Even the realization that you would die (for good) one day was less distasteful than this.

It was almost a comfort when Mephisto pulled his fingers out. You heard his pants drop before he tugged you violently towards him. Your ass was flush against him. There was a filthy relief in knowing that he was hard. At least you had aroused him a bit, then, right? You wished you could have suppressed the dirty, joyous hope you felt. Maybe he wanted you just as badly.

Mephisto entered you slowly. It almost felt intimate: the way he ran his gloved hand through your hair before tugging at it, the way his lips found your neck before it was all teeth and marks, the way his hips rocked slowly into you before he stopped holding back. He almost made this feel like affection before the poison left his mouth between panting and groans. “Not so useless anymore, are you?”

How did he know exactly how to give you a gentle touch that left you hoping before he stripped it from you? He said he didn’t want anyone to know he hurt you, so of course he would figure out how to break your heart. At least that was a pain you could never show anyone. It would live in you – and he would be the only other person who knew that such a haunting beast was hiding inside.

You choked back tears as his thrusting picked up speed and intensity, forcing your thighs against his desk repeatedly with each buck of his hips. This was going to bruise. It was just enough to slosh some of the coffee out of the cup you had brought him earlier. A small puddle pooled towards the edge of the desk until it grazed your thigh, burning for a moment before all you could feel was a numb ache – a small punishment for your foolishness.

This time, you couldn’t hold back a groan. You had tried so hard to disguise any sign of pain or pleasure, but this was too much. Your muffled noise alerted Mephisto to the mess you had both made. It was a small one with no casualties. It hadn’t even reached any of his documents. The only thing left damaged was you, and yet Mephisto dragged you back by the tie around your arms, his cock still buried in you, with an angry, “fuck.”

Did he not want you to get hurt? No.

Mephisto tugged your hair up until you were standing upright – as upright as you could be when you were still impaled on him. He took his glove out of your mouth before he forcefully bent you over towards the edge of the desk. “Lick up the mess, whore.”

You did as he told you. The coffee was still hot, and it stung on your tongue, but you were distracted by a firm slap to your ass. When you managed to clean up the mess, Mephisto brought you upright again with a rough tug and shoved his glove back into your mouth.

“There’s a good little slut,” Mephisto chuckled before he continued to fuck you – even more violently than before. He called you good, at least.

You were choking back tears when he snaked his gloved hand tenderly around your neck. Mephisto used his index finger to guide your chin up. Staring at the ceiling, with your eyes to heaven, you felt that you owed something – someone – a prayer. You wanted to thank some god that Mephisto’s hand was there around your throat – as if the slight pressure was the only thing keeping the sobs and moans inside of you. No. It wasn’t a god that you were grateful to. It was Mephisto. Even as he used you for his amusement, your desire still burned. Your love blazed steadily. Through the pain and emptiness, you still adored him. How pathetic.

Even more pathetic was the contentment you felt as Mephisto sunk his teeth into your shoulder, muffling his moans as he came inside of you. He didn’t pleasure you enough for you to cum; you got the smallest taste of it, and somehow you were content.

Mephisto was quick to pull out of you and get his pants back up. You stood there, trying to reel yourself back into your body – too slowly for Mephisto’s liking. He tugged your pants and underwear back up for you. His glove slipped from your mouth and onto the floor as you attempted to protest with a feeble, “wait.”

His cum had already started to leak out, and the feeling of it sickened you – a shameful sickness. This felt awful and wrong and disgusting, but the most resentful part of you quietly wanted him to bend you back over his desk and fill you up all over again.

Mephisto pulled you in by his tie around your arms and leaned close to your ear. “Keep it in you. I want that sensation to stick with you all day and remind you how much I despise you. Now get out of my sight.”

You felt his tie slip from around your arms. Mephisto dragged you towards the door and shoved you out into the hallway. You heard the distinct sound of the door locking behind you.

Mephisto waited for your hesitant footsteps to fade away down the hall before he sunk his teeth into the back of his ungloved hand. Tears streamed down his face as he dropped to his knees on the floor. Had he finally given you a convincing performance – persuaded you to stay away from him?  

In that dim room on a dark Devildom morning, on his knees, Mephisto felt that he owed something – someone – a prayer. Unsure if he was even allowed – or who would hear it – he prayed that he had finally shown you what a monster he was. The cruel, wicked beast he housed had spit its parasitic DNA into you and waited to consume you. He was a demon, with his hands clasped so tightly together that they trembled, brought to his knees. His prayer – half-confession – found no purchase. It lived only inside of him, and even you would never know. It was a small, lenient punishment.

#mephistopheles #gn!mc #spice tier #obey me #obey me mephistopheles #I hope all the mephisto lovers will like this one even though it's kind of messed up #I feel like I have done too much bottom MC stuff now but it was necessary for this one #enjoy a nice little mid-day snack #obey me smut #mephistopheles smut #mephistopheles x reader #mephistopheles x mc