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joycrispy · 8 months

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Awhile ago @ouidamforeman made this post:

This shot through my brain like a chain of firecrackers, so, without derailing the original post, I have some THOUGHTS to add about why this concept is not only hilarious (because it is), but also...

It. It kind of fucks. Severely.

And in a delightfully Pratchett-y way, I'd dare to suggest.

I'll explain:

As inferred above, both Crowley AND Aziraphale have canonical Biblical counterparts. Not by name, no, but by function.

Crowley, of course, is the serpent of Eden.

(note on the serpent of Eden: In Genesis 3:1-15, at least, the serpent is not identified as anything other than a serpent, albeit one that can talk. Later, it will be variously interpreted as a traitorous agent of Hell, as a demon, as a guise of Satan himself, etc. In Good Omens --as a slinky ginger who walks funny)

Lesser known, at least so far as I can tell, is the flaming sword. It, too, appears in Genesis 3, in the very last line:

"So he drove out the man; and placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life." --Genesis 3:24, KJV

Thanks to translation ambiguity, there is some debate concerning the nature of the flaming sword --is it a divine weapon given unto one of the Cherubim (if so, why only one)? Or is it an independent entity, which takes the form of a sword (as other angelic beings take the form of wheels and such)? For our purposes, I don't think the distinction matters. The guard at the gate of Eden, whether an angel wielding the sword or an angel who IS the sword, is Aziraphale.

(note on the flaming sword: in some traditions --Eastern Orthodox, for example-- it is held that upon Christ's death and resurrection, the flaming sword gave up it's post and vanished from Eden for good. By these sensibilities, the removal of the sword signifies the redemption and salvation of man.

...Put a pin in that. We're coming back to it.)

So, we have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword, introduced at the beginning and the end (ha) of the very same chapter of Genesis.

But here's the important bit, the bit that's not immediately obvious, the bit that nonetheless encapsulates one of the central themes, if not THE central theme, of Good Omens:

The Sword was never intended to guard Eden while Adam and Eve were still in it.

Do you understand?

The Sword's function was never to protect them. It doesn't even appear until after they've already fallen. No... it was to usher Adam and Eve from the garden, and then keep them out. It was a threat. It was a punishment.

The flaming sword was given to be used against them.

So. Again. We have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword: the inception and the consequence of original sin, personified. They are the one-two punch that launches mankind from paradise, after Hell lures it to destruction and Heaven condemns it for being destroyed. Which is to say that despite being, supposedly, hereditary enemies on two different sides of a celestial cold war, they are actually unified by one purpose, one pivotal role to play in the Divine Plan: completely fucking humanity over.

That's how it's supposed to go. It is written.

...But, in Good Omens, they're not just the Serpent and the Sword.

They're Crowley and Aziraphale.

(author begins to go insane from emotion under the cut)

In Good Omens, humanity is handed it's salvation (pin!) scarcely half an hour after losing it. Instead of looming over God's empty garden, the sword protects a very sad, very scared and very pregnant girl. And no, not because a blameless martyr suffered and died for the privilege, either.

It was just that she'd had such a bad day. And there were vicious animals out there. And Aziraphale worried she would be cold.

...I need to impress upon you how much this is NOT just a matter of being careless with company property. With this one act of kindness, Aziraphale is undermining the whole entire POINT of the expulsion from Eden. God Herself confronts him about it, and he lies. To God.

And the Serpent--

(Crowley, that is, who wonders what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway; who thinks that maybe he did a GOOD thing when he tempted Eve with the apple; who objects that God is over-reacting to a first offense; who knows what it is to fall but not what it is to be comforted after the fact...)

--just goes ahead and falls in love with him about it.

As for Crowley --I barely need to explain him, right? People have been making the 'didn't the serpent actually do us a solid?' argument for centuries. But if I'm going to quote one of them, it may as well be the one Neil Gaiman wrote ficlet about:

"If the account given in Genesis is really true, ought we not, after all, to thank this serpent? He was the first schoolmaster, the first advocate of learning, the first enemy of ignorance, the first to whisper in human ears the sacred word liberty, the creator of ambition, the author of modesty, of inquiry, of doubt, of investigation, of progress and of civilization." --Robert G. Ingersoll

The first to ask questions.

Even beyond flattering literary interpretation, we know that Crowley is, so often, discreetly running damage control on the machinations of Heaven and Hell. When he can get away with it. Occasionally, when he can't (1827).

And Aziraphale loves him for it, too. Loves him back.

And so this romance plays out over millennia, where they fall in love with each other but also the world, because of each other and because of the world. But it begins in Eden. Where, instead of acting as the first Earthly example of Divine/Diabolical collusion and callousness--

(other examples --the flood; the bet with Satan; the back channels; the exchange of Holy Water and Hellfire; and on and on...)

--they refuse. Without even necessarily knowing they're doing it, they just refuse. Refuse to trivialize human life, and refuse to hate each other.

To write a story about the Serpent and the Sword falling in love is to write a story about transgression.

Not just in the sense that they are a demon and an angel, and it's ~forbidden. That's part of it, yeah, but the greater part of it is that they are THIS demon and angel, in particular. From The Real Bible's Book of Genesis, in the chapter where man falls.

It's the sort of thing you write and laugh. And then you look at it. And you think. And then you frown, and you sit up a little straighter. And you think.

And then you keep writing.

And what emerges hits you like a goddamn truck.

(...A lot of Pratchett reads that way. I believe Gaiman when he says Pratchett would have been happy with the romance, by the way. I really really do).

It's a story about transgression, about love as transgression. They break the rules by loving each other, by loving creation, and by rejecting the hatred and hypocrisy that would have triangulated them as a unified blow against humanity, before humanity had even really got started. And yeah, hell, it's a queer romance too, just to really drive the point home (oh, that!!! THAT!!!)

...I could spend a long time wildly gesturing at this and never be satisfied. Instead of watching me do that (I'll spare you), please look at this gif:

I love this shot so much.

Look at Eve and Crowley moving, at the same time in the same direction, towards their respective wielders of the flaming sword. Adam reaches out and takes her hand; Aziraphale reaches out and covers him with a wing.

You know what a shot like that establishes? Likeness. Commonality. Kinship.

"Our side" was never just Crowley and Aziraphale. Crowley says as much at the end of season 1 ("--all of us against all of them."). From the beginning, "our side" was Crowley, Aziraphale, and every single human being. Lately that's around 8 billion, but once upon a time it was just two other people. Another couple. The primeval mother and father.

But Adam and Eve die, eventually. Humanity grows without them. It's Crowley and Aziraphale who remain, and who protect it. Who...oversee it's upbringing.

Godfathers. Sort of.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #crowley #aziraphale #good omens meta #I have no idea if I've made a coherent point here but I'm tired of this being in my drafts; RAW FEELINGS IT IS #it's about being sent to destroy and instead staying to love and protect and nurture I'M CRAZY I'M CRAZY RAAAAAAAGGHHHH #gnu terry pratchett

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pacificgrimsarc · 4 months

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@sevensaith | set & ?

"Fuck. I hate this." Set kicked her boot at the foundation of the diner, literally shaking in her boots in attempt to get warm. The temperature was in the single digits, Fahrenheit, and she could swear everything was frozen. Glancing up at the sky, she knew a snowstorm would blow in through town soon. It was just the sort of thing that she could sense.

Sure, she could go inside the diner, but she was on a break—and she only got 30 minutes per shift to be away from waiting on the idiotic customers inside, so she was intent on using her break to her fullest. She looked over at the other, shivering, blowing a raspberry. She was a long way from the fires of Hell. "Brrrrr. How are you so used to this? This shit is not normal."

#sevensaith #closed starter #hii!! i hope this is okay #set is one of hades' cerberus dogs #i figured since your muses r the sins personified they could be connected?#but maybe not know it at the same time #at least not yet?#bc Set is undercover on earth

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silvcrignis · 1 year

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… IM SORRY SIREN CRASSE VIBES OFF THE CHARTS?!! EXCUSE

#x: Out of Sin #c: Crasse #v: Lure of the Abyss #OC Tracks #LOOK ITS LITERALLY HER VOICE I???#I’m like super lazy & dont wanna make the icons b ut might have to #Honestly none of you are ready for Crasse #You think Claude is a snarky aggressive fuck head???#Crasse is all his malice personified & multiplied to an egregious level

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lolapiastri · 2 months

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his sinful secret | p. gasly

warnings: smut, heavy religious imagery and themes, a sinful amount of dirty talk, like pierre cannot stfu, heavy degredation, everyone gets head, choking, a some praise, spitting, this is like actual filth maybe being ill makes me horny idk

author's note: i'm blaming this filth on the fact that i'm under the weather rn but jesus christ be fucking warned, she's a roller coaster

pierre prided himself in his religion. it was important to him, that belief in a higher power was the faith he needed to live the life he did. it seemed the driver life was one full of jealousy, gluttony and lust, but he was determined not to fall victim to the sins like so many before him.

so he payed his dues. he went to church whenever he had a free sunday, said a silent prayer for his friends and family every night, gave thanks to the lord before every meal as a token of appreciation.

his religion wasn’t a joke to him, it never would be. it was a belief that kept him sane, kept him in order, kept some sense of purpose and responsibility in his life. it wasn’t something that he would pick and choose whether to follow or not. he was all or nothing with his belief, and he chose all.

until he met you.

you were his sin personified, his dirty little secret. whenever you two were together all thoughts of his religion left his mind, as he now existed to serve you, to worship in between your thighs, listen to your moans as if they were gospel. it was like any holy thought left his mind the second your skin brushed over his.

he never wanted to give into the temptation. he saw you as a challenge, a sign to resist sin and stay thinking holy thoughts. but when you showed up at the club in a tight white dress, hair tumbling over your shoulders as your hips swayed provocatively to the music, he knew that nothing could stop him taking you home that night, and many a night after that.

which is how he ended up knocking on your flat at 9pm on a monday evening, the day after a tough race where he just felt useless. a double dnf for alpine followed by a race without points. he felt horrible, felt like a failure, and all the comfort that his producers and members could give him could never make him feel as good as you could.

the warm orange hues of a southern french sunset lit up your apartment as you swung open the door, the golden hour glow accenting the faint highlights in your hair. you were underdressed for pierre's standards, normally revealing yourself to him in a lacy set he bought for you, or sometimes even nothing, looking like a greek statue as you left nothing to the imagination.

today was different. you weren’t expecting him; you had no warning to any chain of events about to follow. so you opened the door to show yourself in a white linen shirt, almost certainly his, that was so large on you it was practically a dress, that you had been lounging around your flat in.

pierre didn’t care, however, thinking you were still as stunning as ever. the white made your tanned skin seem darker, and with a few buttons undone your cleavage was truly out on display, a teaser at what he would truly see later. a pair of large hoops hung in each ear, with a small chain around your neck with ‘10’ engraved on it finishing the look. he loved that necklace, a sign that you and him had some kind of connection, even if it was only through a piece of jewellery.

“you alright?” you asked, eyes scanning from head to toe. it was rare for pierre to show up without telling you, if he ever had. there was a silent agreement that he would let you know when he needed to release energy, to be in your presence, to succumb to the sinful energy you supposedly emitted.

he shook his head. “fucked the race yesterday. now wanna fuck you.”

and there it was. the switch that flicked where pierre ignored his religion, ignored the purity and goodness he was supposed to uphold, and you became the deity he worshipped.

his hands grabbed your face as he pulled you into a needy kiss, calloused fingertips rough against your smooth skin. the kiss held a thousand emotions: anger, upset, disappointment, lust, love, and enough passion to knock you back on your feet, needing the stability of pierre's hands to stay upright.

he always kissed you like it was his last on earth, like he may never get to do this again so he was going to savour every second of it. and he was so passionate - maybe because he was annoyed, maybe because he was stressed, or maybe because you were the only person who got to see this pierre. this raw, untamed, animalistic pierre who you adored seeing so much.

he slowly edged you back into your room, hips pushing against yours ever so slightly, enough to encourage your hips up against his, creating the tiniest bit of friction to ease the growing need between your thighs. you heard him shut the door behind you, never once taking his lips off of yours, befor his hands slid from your face to your neck.

you let out a quick gasp as he squeezed into your skin, feeling him smirk into the kiss as your breathing got shallower and shallower. he often did this. pushed your boundaries as far as he could push them. watched as your slowly cracked under the euphoric torture he performed on you.

he pulled back from you, letting out a chuckle as you chased his lips. he looked down, easily towering over you, a look of fake-pity etched all over his face.

“look so pretty with my hands wrapped around your neck, huh?” he asked, almost certainly a rhetorical question as he squeezed that slight bit harder, looking down at your thighs rubbing against each other, determined to find some relief from the ache in your core. “and you love it as well, love it when i choke you, when i treat you like a slut.”

his words went straight to your core, and you couldn’t rebute them without the lie showing all over your face. pierre eased up on your neck, hands now trailing down your body, over your rib cage, counting down with such an intent focus you would think it’s the first time he’s ever seen your body.

“wearing my shirt, must have missed me?” he asked, tone nonchalant but undertone the opposite. the agreement is that you don’t miss each other. you don’t have feeling for one another. you fuck. that’s it.

you took in a deep breath as one hand crawled under the white linen and felt the material of your underwear. lace, of course. pierre's favourite. you were aware of how his race went yesterday, and you were planning on sending him some photos to ease the pain. you did that often, when things weren’t going so well for him in the f1 world, a little pick me up in the form of barely lit lingerie pictures and videos of you moaning his name.

“never,” you teased, your hands rising over his shirt, pulling it off his body and exposing him in all his glory.

my god, was he stunning. you had never seen another man like him, one so broad and muscly yet slim and defined. his skin had grown darker in the past few weeks, undertone becoming more and more golden as his hair lightened under the european sun. he’d been keeping his hair long lately, and though you weren’t a fan at first, when you gripped it while he was your legs it was safe to say it grew on you. his eyes had a chill behind them, one only you were lucky enough to see, which told you that he had one hundred wonderful and wicked ideas to try out with you.

“white lace?” he questioned, having a peek under the shirt, the colour not normal for you. pierre liked navy, so that was what you normally wore, as well as black and red. he didn’t even know you owned a white set, and he had seen a lot of lingerie on you.

you hummed. “you like it?”

he loved it. loved the way the white material contrasted your skin, the way the quickly fading light bounced off it making you glow, the way he could already see the wetness collecting from your arousal. and most of all, he loved the way you looked angelic in it, look like the heavens yourself had sent you, because nothing you ever did was angelic. you were never angelic when you sucked him off, let him fuck you into oblivion, enjoyed being degraded and teased, and when you dressed the part, it somehow made everything more dirty for him.

“would love it more if you got on your knees.” the suggestion was an order, and of course you obeyed, sinking into the cold wooden floor of your bedroom and looking up at him with blinking eyes.

he looked majestic, light pouring out from the window behind him. and when he went to unbuckle his belt, your mouth already starting salivating in preparation, knowing what was coming. pierre must have been able to sense your eagerness, as he let out a wry chuckle looking down on you.

“always so fucking desperate for it, aren’t you?” all you could do was nod in response, leaning forward as mark slid his trousers down to pull his dick out from his boxers.

you were still in awe every time you saw his cock. sure, you’d been big dicks before, but pierre's was something in of itself. it was as majestic as his body was, and taken care of the same way.

you went to take it in your mouth, but pierre quickly tangled a hand in your hair and pulled you back, letting out a soft chuckle as a pout appeared on your lips.

“honestly, i don’t fuck you for two weeks and you forget all your manners. you think you just get to suck my cock? you think you’re worthy of that? dumb little girl.” his degrading words went straight to your core, you having to resist the urge to squeeze your thighs together as you looked up at him pleadingly.

“please, pierre,” his hand tilted your head up, nothing stopping your eyes from baring into his, seeing the devilish glint in his eye, “please.”

“please what? come on, good girls know how to beg properly,” he teased, watching down evilly as you whined at his harsh words.

you took in a deep breath. “please let me suck your cock, pierre.”

he nodded. “keep going.”

“please, just wanna make you feel good. please let me suck it, all i wanna do,” you were unravelling, slowly losing any previous willpower you had to resist his charm, diving headfirst into the depths of hell you two created together. it was a beautiful chaos, a place the two of you could completely unravel and just be morsels of sex and passion. “please, pierre, just want your cock in my mouth.”

“fuck, your such a whore for me. never seen such a lovely girl want cock so bad. but you’re not a lovely girl, are you?” you nodded, so desperate for him. “that’s right, baby, you’re a desperate little slut who’s only thought is dick, so why don’t you show me how much you love this one, yeah?”

his words would be the death of you. they were your bible, you would have done anything he asked you do when he was speaking in that deep, honey tone, french accent getting thicker and thicker as he lost himself in the moment. whatever he preached in church, said as he prayed, these were the opposite of that. these were the thoughts that hid in the back of his mind until he was around you, and then they were an unstoppable spew of sin and lust and as many other unholy emotions he could think of.

you sunk down on his cock as soon as you had permission, taking as much in as possible before starting to bob your head, swirling your tongue when you rose to the tip of his dick. he let out a deep groan when you choked around him, his length still too big even after a few months of sucking him off. his hand tightened around your scalp, guiding you up and down and up and down.

you pulled back to catch a breath, a string of saliva still attached to his dick, creating a link between you. pierre watched as you licked it up, before replacing your mouth his your hand, throwing his head back as your thumb rubbed over his tip.

“tell me how much you love this cock, baby,” he grunted, his words not surprising to you. when everything seemed to be going wrong in his life, pierre thrived on the praise of others. his parents, his mechanics, his engineers, and in this state you. any words that made him feel appreciated, needed, loved, he thrived on.

“love it so much, baby,” you panted, “so so much.”

and with that you started sucking again, still using your hand on everything you struggled to fit. his breaths got shallower and shallower as you kept going, feeling the muscles in his chest tensing as he got closer and closer to his high.

“look at you on your knees for me,” the hand in the back of your hair tilted your head towards the mirror you had in your bedroom, and the sight was one you were sure would be engraved in your memory for years to come.

it was like a renaissance pairing, the way the two of you looked. both glowing in the sunset light, sweating clinging loose strand of hair to your foreheads. pierre's mouth was hung open, defined abs clenched, looking completely gone with pleasure. your back was arched while on your knees, thighs clenched together as your mouth swallowed pierre down, tears slowly building in your eyes, threatening to break loose and paint your cheeks with mascara stained water.

“want me to finish in your mouth?” he groaned, obviously so near to the edge. but he always asked. no matter how intense anything was, pierre always asked.

you hummed in agreement around his cock, sending vibrations through the sensitive skin and bringing his orgasm that little bit closer. he took complete control now, fucking your face with sporadic, wild thrusts, before pulling back and waiting for the orgasm, your hand guiding him through it.

“open your mouth, baby,” he grunted, on the brink of the most sinful euphoria he could feel, “stick your tongue out for me- there you go. pretty little slut on her knees for me. never seen such a beautiful girl act like such a whore-”

and with that he came, covering your tongue and lips with his cum, groaning as he finally got the high he’d craved after the last two weeks. you carried him through it, keeping your mouth open until he’d completely finished.

“show me your tongue, baby,” he panted, a maniacal laugh appearing when you eagerly showed him your face. “god, you’re so good for me, you look so pretty covered in my cum, huh? go on, look at how messy you are for me.”

you turned you back to the mirror, and you got a proper look at how gone you were. your tongue was still out, eyes dazed over, nose to chin covered in pierre's cum, with your cheeks stained with mascara tears.

he pulled your head back, forcing you to look back up at him, before he leant over and spat in your mouth, the most sinful action of the night.

“swallow it up, yeah, there you go,” he almost whispered, and you did as he said, taking everything he had given you and the rest that he swiped in from your cheeks. “god, you’re always such a good girl for me.”

he was always softer after an orgasm, like he suddenly became aware of how harsh his words were, how you could easily take them the wrong way. you never did, but you appreciated the effort, and you appreciated him.

wait. no you didn’t.

“up you get, baby,” he cooed, helping you stand up and immediately wrapping your legs around his waist, carrying your through your flat like it was his own. he had spent so much time here it might as well have been.

he placed you down on the bed, letting you lean against the frame as he dimmed down the lights, leaving the room in a small, romantic glow. he finished undressing himself, before finally turning all of his attention to you.

this is where it became a sin.

see, pierre didn’t believe that pre-marital sex was a sin. well, whether or not it was he was more than happy to partake in it. what was a sin, however, was worshiping false deities. yet that’s exactly what he did to you.

after the agression you had just experienced, pierre knew it was time to turn his attention to in between your thighs, somewhere he could sit for hours and never get bored. it was a form of worship, how he treated you, one that he could never admit to the universe, a secret shared between the two of you.

his hands ran up your bare thighs, kneading them as his mouth followed, leaving a trail of wet, sloppy kisses along your skin. your legs spread automatically, a sigh of pleasure already coming from your mouth, just the motivation pierre needed to keep going.

"fuck, baby," he gasped, as one of his fingers stroked over your panties, feeling your sticky wetness caused from pierre's dirty words earlier, "fucking soaked for me, huh?"

"yes," you sighed as one of his fingers found your clit, making ever so light circles over the lace, "only for you, pierre."

"i know, baby, god you look so beautiful like this."

and he wasn't lying. with your back arched, a thin layer of sweat coating your skin, his shirt bunched up around your ribcage so he could see the rise of fall of your stomach as your breathing got shallower. he thought you were majestic, undenyable beauty, something to be worshipped.

so that's what he did.

he pulled your panties off and dived straight into your pussy, nose hitting your clit as his tongue worked wonders, lapping up the wetness and causing pornographic sounds to emit from your throat. god, was he good at eating you out, and when he added to fingers and curled them against that spot inside of you, you knew you were not lasting long.

"baby- oh my god, pierre- i'm gonna cum," you whined, hips bucking so much pierre had to use one of his arms to hold you in place.

pierre chuckled against your clit, the vibrations just bringing you closer to the edge. "yeah, i'm making you feel good."

"so good, pierre, so so so good."

and that was enough for him. sometimes he would make you beg, have you crying from the edging he would put you through, but he knew he was harsh earlier, and you had been so good your deserved to come.

"come for me then, baby," he grunted, fingers speeding up their pace, "come all over my fingers, make a mess of me, baby."

he words tipped you over the edge, the feeling of euphoria washing over you as pierre carried you through your high, breathing finally slowing down as pierre abandoned your pussy and staring leaving open mouthed kisses against the soft flesh of your thighs.

"think you can go once more for me?" he asked between kisses, and however tired you were you always wanted to please him, always wanted to make him feel good.

so you pulled him over you and braced yourself as he pushed inside of you, the stretch making you hear colours as his lips finally connected with yours for the second time that night, tongue exploring your mouth until he was fully inside of you.

"never gonna get over how good you feel wrapped around me, baby," he mumbled against your lips, pleasure evident on his face, "so fucking warm and wet, this pussy was made for me, wasn't it?"

you couldn't even respond, mouth stuck in an o-shape as he began to thrust in and out, his tip hitting your cervix as he picked up the pace.

"don't know what i would do without this cunt, think i would go insane not knowing this is always here for me, because it is, isn't it? this is my pussy."

pierre told himself he would hold back but he just couldn't help it, the feeling of being inside of you driving him crazy as his hips snapped against yours. only pierre's sinful words and the sound of skin against skin filled the room now, the feeling ever so dirty and sinful, just the way you both liked it.

"my fucking pussy to do whatever i want with, my playtoy, that's what you are, yeah?" he teased, and all you could do was whine in response as you grew closer and closer to your second orgasm.

"just a set of holes for me to use, aren't you? can't even speak because i'm fucking you so good, huh? just a cumdump for me, a slutty, pretty, cumdump. you want my cum, my pretty little whore?"

all you could do was nod, hoping that was enough for pierre right now. he chuckled, but you could tell he was close by the way his thrusts were growing irregular. and he could tell you were close by the way you clenched around him.

"you wanna cum? tell me who's making you feel this good."

you mustered up all the energy you had left to speak, hoping the words came out of your mouth. "you, pierre, only you can make me feel this good."

"tell me you belong to me," pierre didn't even know what he was saying at this point, the words leaving unconciously, his sinful desires becoming more and more evident in the world.

"i'm yours, pierre. every part of me is yours, i belong to you. god-"

"yeah, that's right, i'm your fucking god," he grunted, and that word, even though it's not what you meant, made both of you come undone together, a moan leaving both of your mouths as pierre collapsed against your chest, chests rising and falling as you attempted to calm down.

pierre pulled out, ever so gently, and knelt on the floor at the end of the bed, watching as some of his cum escaped from your swollen pussy. gently, he used his finger to scoop it up, and push it back into your cunt, before leaning back over to meet your lips in a kiss.

"thank you," he muttered, "for this. hope i wasn't too harsh."

you chuckled. "a little, but you know i like it. shit, though, i would have called you god sooner if i knew it would get that reaction."

with those words, pierre froze. those words should have never been said, should have never been put into the universe. it reminded pierre of his sin, of everything you tempted him towards. with no other option, he chose to escape your lustful allure, and made a mental note to pray tonight.

"gotta get back to the office, usami will be expecting me," pierre left one final kiss on your cheek before leaving.

you pouted, so many unspoken words floating on your tongue. stay. be mine. i love you. yet none of them were said, instead sending him a sad smile before grabbing your phone from your bedside table, just hoping deep down he felt the same way.

if only you knew you were just his sinful secret.

#f1 smut #formula one smut #formula 1 smut #formula 1 blurb #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine #pierre gasly #pierre gasly smut #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly blurb #f1 imagine #f1 blurb #f1 x reader #f1 fic

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kaciidubs · 6 months

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Rock and Roll

❣ Summary: Jeongin's new comeback look was truly irresistible. ❣ ❣ Word Count: 2.08k ❣ Warnings: This specific Jeongin, Dom! Reader, Switch! Jeongin, use of honorifics [Noona], smut, semi-public sex [bathroom], fingering, clothed sex, praise, begging, desperation, slight degradation ❣ ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣ ❣ Additional Tags: Jeongin is referred to as Innie, baby, baby boy, and IN-ah [once], Reader is referred to as Noona, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

He looked too good with that hairstyle.

He looked way too good with that hairstyle.

Maybe it wasn't just the style, maybe it was a combination of the split dyed golden blond, curled into a messy mop, paired with the fake lip piercing, colored contacts, and collar that shouldn't look as enticing as it does around his neck.

Yeah... That was it - that explained away the way you were practically vibrating in your seat across the room, watching as one of the stylists fixed a curl at the back of his head.

She patted his shoulder with a nod, her lips moving with words you couldn't catch before he nodded in response and slipped his way out of the styling chair.

Making his way over to you, he stood in front of you with a smile brighter than the sun, truly resembling the fluffy fox he was personified as.

"What do you think, Noona?"

Truly, this was the universe testing you, waiting to see if you would stick with your morals or succumb to the irresistible charm of your darling boyfriend.

Humming thoughtfully, you made a thorough up-down of his full attire, "How much time until you're needed for the pre-recording?"

Slipping his phone from his front pocket, he tapped the screen and watched the device come to life, "About... 45 minutes?"

You stood from the couch with a dignified nod, sliding your hand in his before leading him toward the door of the communal dressing room. "Great, I'll only need 30."

Morals be damned.

It took; two minutes to slink your way into the bathroom down the hall, tugging him in behind you and locking it the second it shut, another two minutes to silence his jumbled questioning with a kiss, hard and statement making, and one minute for him to succumb to your stellar persuasion.

"Have I ever told you how fucking hot you look?" You moaned against his lips with no intent to give him the time to answer, your own lips barely leaving his for even a second.

"I-" Jeongin gasped, returning your heated kiss, "You've-" a whimper cut him off, his hands holding onto your hips, "-mentioned it-" you nipped at his bottom lip and his knees buckled, "-once or twice."

Pulling away, you gazed at him with lust fogged eyes, "Well, baby boy, you look so god damn hot, I wanted to fall to my knees the moment the stylist finished curling your hair - but then..." Your eyes dropped to the collar resting against his neck, sliding your hand from his shoulder to dance your fingers along the silver letters, 'IN'. "When I saw her put you in this, it made me want to put you on your knees."

The whine he let out was sinful, almost pitiful in the way his hips rocked against yours - arousal evident in the presence of his dick filling out the front of his pants.

"C-Can you? Will you?"

His expectant pout made your heart swell, and your lips to curl into a pitying frown, "Oh, baby, you're on the clock, remember? We wouldn't want to give Jiyeon more work in fixing you back up again, now do we?"

"But- But-" he moved his head, making a point of the locked personal bathroom you all but dragged him into, "You brought me in here! I thought you'd at least-"

"Let you fuck me silly on that insatiable, deliciously long cock of yours?" You finished for him in more colorful words than he would've chosen, "I know, but you're already in your makeup, and you and I both know that less than 30 minutes isn't enough to get you off fully."

Deflating against the door, his hands squeezed your hips in disdain, "So, what? I can't just leave like this, Noona, I'm so hard it hurts."

Smirking, your fingers cupped his chin, "Well, you're lucky I have a plan, a deal if you will." Watching as he nodded for you to continue, your smirk grew into a grin, "I want you to finger me, Innie - make me come before you have to go and I'll do anything you want once your performances are over. Can you do that for me, baby boy?"

A light sparkled in his eyes, the urge to please you making him straighten up, "Anything?"

"Anything, baby, just as long as you make me come with those pretty fingers of yours."

Before you knew it, his lips were on yours and your position was switched; one hand protecting the back of your head as the rest of your body thudded against the door, while the other got to work on unbuttoning the button of your jeans.

Five minutes for him to get them unbuttoned and down your legs, your right shoe paying the price for your right leg to be freed and hooked around his hip - your panties simply pulled aside by his thumb and his fingers sliding along your folds. His left hand relinquished its cradle on your head to hold onto your waist, keeping you as stable as possible in the precarious position.

"Wet." He murmured against your mouth, middle and ring finger curling and collecting the arousal practically dripping from you, "So wet for me, Noona."

Your head fell back against the door, an airy moan floating past your lips as he focused his attention on the column of your neck. "A-All for you, Innie - only for you, baby."

You needed to play your cards right, push all the buttons that would get him ticking just the way you needed.

"Can't wait to have you in me, maybe I'll just drag you back in here after the show - won't even wait for you to change."

He moaned against your neck, his fingers pressing against your entrance before slowly sinking both digits in at once with learned ease. "Wanna fuck you, Noona, please - I'll be quick, w-won't mess up anything."

Bringing your right hand to the nape of his neck, you curled your fingers through the hair at the back of his head - a taste of what he could have later. "You know our deal, baby boy; make Noona come and I'll be on my knees faster than you know."

With a shivering breath, he steeled his resolve and curled his fingers inside of you, targeting that spongy spot at the front of your vagina and hitting it with ease.

Your left arm tightened around his shoulders, working double time to keep you balanced with the help of his left hand holding you against the bathroom door.

"T-That's it, baby, fuck-"

He didn't give you any time to revel in the sensation as he tilted his hand down, the drag of his fingers bringing a low moan out of you before he flicked his wrist up, thrusting his fingers back into you at a speed that made your toes curl.

"Fuck!"

That was your test run, the calm before the storm, and with a slight adjustment of his arm, the bathroom was soon filled with the sounds of your moans and the slick squelching of your cunt around his fingers.

"Innie- Innie- Oh, fuck me-"

There was no desire to keep quiet - it wasn't a secret that whenever you and Jeongin disappeared, someone was getting their rocks off, but what happened next came as a shock.

When your mouth opened to let another wanton moan float through, a large hand covered the bottom half of your face, his fingers just barely resting below the bottom of your nose.

"Be quiet." He practically growled against your ear, fingers flexing against your cheek, "J-Just shut up and take it."

You were shocked you didn't accidentally break a finger from the way you clenched at his tone, eyes fluttering as he ground the palm of his hand against your pussy, your clit getting the stimulation it deserved.

This was the Jeongin you were going for, your darling boy who switched hard with the right provoking; the one who had you seeing stars in ten minutes flat.

His hand was hot with your muffled moans trapped behind it and he couldn't care less; not when your walls fluttered around his fingers, and your arousal puddled in the palm of his hand and dripped off the back.

"W-Wanted you to make me fall apart," he scoffed, rutting his hips against your left thigh, "but now I'm making you fall apart first - just like you wanted, huh, Noona?"

His quick thrusts were subbed out for rapidly jack hammering his hand against your pussy, the sopping noise practically bouncing off the walls of the bathroom.

"I could've filled you easily - bent you over the sink to watch me fuck you dumb through the mirror," pulling his head up, his dark eyes held a glint, stunning and all encompassing, "but I guess you love my fingers too much to even care."

Your left hand tightened in his curls, an unabashed moan catching in the palm of his hand.

Just a little more - you just needed him to-

As if reading your mind, he sunk his fingers in to the knuckle and traced fast, tight circles around your puffy clit, "Come for me, Noona - make a mess of my fingers."

Your body trembled, limbs all but locking him in place against you as you came with a loud cry - even muffled, he could make out the whined scream of his name vibrating against his hand.

He worked you down with gentle thrusts, groaning at the sensation of your cum dripping down the back of his hand, "Oh god, you're so much warmer now... S-So slippery."

You came back to your senses enough to realize he was still grinding himself against your thigh, the once dominant air surrounding him now melting away into the needy baby bread you loved even more.

"I-I did good, right? Made you come like you said - now, can I?" His hand dropped from your mouth in favor of gripping your waist, quickly succumbing to the deliciously harsh rub of his denim pants against his boxer-brief hidden dick. "Can I come, Noona? Can i? Can I, please?"

Knowing you wouldn't forgive yourself for letting him ruin himself in his stage clothes, you dropped your right hand to his wrist; pulling away the fingers that were still nestled inside of you before untangling yourself from him and unceremoniously getting onto your knees.

A short cry fell from his lips when you pulled away from him, but when he saw you kneeling with your hands working fast against the button of his pants, he nearly came then and there.

You got his pants undone in record time, tugging them - and his underwear - down just enough to pull his cock out and wrap your lips around the shiny, precum covered tip.

"S-Shit, Noona- 'm gonna- I-I'm-"

A flick of your tongue against his slit, a gentle suck, and in no time a desperate whine fell from his lips as he came in your mouth, the slight tang coating your tongue with each wave that coursed through him.

Swallowing in kind, you stroked him a few more times to make sure that was all he had - albeit a bit greedily - before pulling off of him with a soft pop.

You tilted your head to look up at him, and you met his familiar, bright eyed smile - even after fingering you like a man possessed, then coming down your throat in mere seconds, he still looked like he didn't even break a sweat.

"Wow," he breathed, a breathless laugh escaping him, "that was ama-"

"IN-ah! We're leaving in 15!"

The sound of Minho's voice on the other side of the door nearly made you both jump out of your skin, urging you to scramble back into your jeans while Jeongin hastily tucked himself back into his boxer-briefs.

"Don't forget to get your makeup touched up again!" Came Hyunjin's teasing voice, laughing as if he could see the blush currently turning your boyfriend red.

"See?" You huffed, pushing yourself off of the ground and fixing your jeans as casually as you could, "Told you I only needed 30 minutes."

Rolling his eyes, Jeongin fixed his shirt with his head held high, "That just gives me 15 minutes to think about what I want you to do to me when we're done."

You laughed at his haughtiness before tugging him by the collar, pressing your lips to his in a soft, sweet peck.

"Go on and get touched up, rock star."

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @instabull, @maximumkillshot, @bandolls, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @sunnyhonie, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @all4innie, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

#skz smut #stray kids smut #yang jeongin smut #yang jeongin x reader #jeongin x reader #jeongin smut

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plush-rabbit · 6 months

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Helluva Boss Mammon Dating Headcanons

Hi! It's been forever! Please have this supper specific crumb of my interest!

A/N: It’s my curse to fall in love with greed personified characters

Dating Mammon has its perks, but it’s clear that he takes more than he gives. He is the sin of greed, and no matter how it’s looked at, he will always be greedy. Of course, he’ll try his best to be a good partner- he’ll use pet names, get you everything that you have ever wanted and will ever want, let you live a lavish life with him. However, he expects something in return- he wants you affection and attention. He wants to know that he’s the most important thing in your life. Anyone else is only second to him- he is your priority. As much as he’ll give, he’ll take and want tenfold. It’s all that he knows how to do, to take and want, to keep and hoard to himself. The relationship is always imbalanced, it’s not an equal one, and even if there is an attempt to make it equal, it’s difficult to forget just how powerful he is.

It’s not uncommon to find gifts left for you. You're the only one he’ll ever waste money on. You can’t be dressed in rags when you’re in his presence, and he’s going to make sure that you’re dressed lavishly, that you can have all that you want. It should come to no surprise that he’ll hold it over your head. He gives you all you want, you can go along with an idea of his.

While he will gift you things, your status will determine if the relationship will ever be public. He’s a lord. A king. He’s Greed. He’s one of the first angels to rebel and fall. He has status. He has people who fear him, who love him, who watch him constantly. If you’re part of the low class, the relationship will more than likely stay hidden. He’s aware of what people will say and think. He values his status and the power that comes along with it. He can’t have people think he’s stooped so low.

Despite that, if there are rumors that the two of you are in a relationship, he won’t stop them. Perhaps it’s due to having his status still intact and people still avoiding you that makes it all worthwhile. He’ll be damned if someone even attempts to flirt with you. You belong to him. You are his. The rumors can say whatever they want about the two of you, as long as it's about the two of you. And as much as he’ll complain about the dating rumors, he loves them.

He thrives off your attention. He needs you to constantly focus on him when the two of you are together. If you look away, he’ll turn your head to look back at him or he’ll place himself in your line of sight. His hands will always be on some part of you- which doesn’t help quell the dating rumors- whether it be your hand, wrist, or on the small of your back. It’s almost like he needs to be touching you, like he can’t go one second without it. He holds onto you, and doesn’t like when you wander off. If he could, he’d latch a web onto you to make sure that he knows where you are. If you leave his sight, he’s spamming your phone constantly asking where you are, who is with you, what you’re doing. He’ll only lessen when you complain about how needy it is.

If the two of you are in public, he needs you to be with him. He’ll make up some lame excuse about it- you’re necessary, or you’re emotional support, or he just needs the extra arms. No one dares to mention that he has extra arms. He just really likes having you around. Ever since he started to date you, he realized how much he likes having company, how he likes to have someone who will give him attention and hold his hands.

It is visible to anyone that the sin is extremely jealous. He does not care for anyone that even dares to come near you. He’s constantly touching you, there’s dating rumors, and he’s a lord. And someone still has the audacity to come near you in front of him? He won’t allow for that type of disrespect. He pulls you close to him and gets in the face of anyone who even dares to approach you. Afterwards, he makes sure that you’re situated right beside him. Along with his jealousy, he’s also protective. You’re his and he won’t let any sort of damage come onto his things. He’ll make sure that you’re well protected if you ever have to leave his vicinity.

He likes when the two of you match to some extent. As the two of you spend more time together, you wear more of his colors- green, gold, white, and black. Even if it’s something as small as jewelry, he wants to make it clear you two are matching. He wears the jester outfit quite a bit, so the decorations on it are often presented in your jewelry. The matching can be subtle, it just matters to him that two of you match. He likes seeing you wear his signature colors. It gives him a reminder that the two of you are together. He isn’t a fan of spending money, but he can’t hide the giddiness when the two of you shop. You’re trying on outfits he’s chosen, the two of you can spend time together, and it’s quite fun to just have more things added to his collection.

If the relationship is public, he has no shame in keeping you near him. Even during the rumors, he was constantly keeping you beside him and that won’t change. He’ll constantly boast about how great you are. Nothing but the best for him. You’re at the center of every show, right alongside him as he announces all that is going on and all his complaints. His hand holds tightly onto yours, and as he walks around and gestures, you’re lifted right alongside him. Merchandise is made with the two of you, shirts, plushies, charms, jewelry- whatever can be sold is. He markets the relationship so well, and you’re along for the ride. Whatever profits are made are unknown to you.

While his webs can be dangerous given how high he likes to place them, he enjoys having you there. It not only gives him an excuse to have you close to him, but no one bothers the two of you while you’re there. He holds you close, buries his face right into the crook of your neck or lays on your stomach. However, if you fear slipping between the webs, he always holds you close to him. It’s not uncommon for him to transform into his bigger size and have you lay on him. When he’s sure that you’re asleep, he often stares at you. His hands are gentle, much too soft for someone so devilish to have, and he'll trace over your features, write his name on your arm and interlace your hands with his. He’ll trace a finger over the arch of your cheek, and pull you close to him. Mammon is greedy, it’s all that he knows how to do, but when it’s quiet and undisturbed, he’ll promise to himself to get you more things, to keep on giving to you.

#helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss mammon #helluva boss mammon x reader #I have a day of the dead ask and im super into that one #grad school is time consuming #group work sucks #he’s been on my mind since the episode #im not even a big fan of helluva boss #i even made an oc #im literally in love and i hate it #but tis my curse to love greed

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fayes-fics · 1 year

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Bella Notte

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: A moonlight lake swim with Benedict

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, innocence/corruption kink, first-time kissing, breast fondling, fingering, penis touching (i.e. first second and third base activities lol), romantic I guess?

Word Count: 2.9k

Authors Note: this is a very overdue fic request for my dear Emmy @iboopedyournose that she sent over DM many months ago. (Request: romantic moonlight swim with Benedict that leads to something steamy 😉😋). I don't know if there's enough romance here. I hope so. Also I’m sorry, I just wrote this now; I'm a bad friend. I hope you enjoy <3 (PS I almost subtitled this Innocence: underwater edition)

It’s after midnight when you and Benedict secretly steal down to the water's edge at Aubrey Hall. This is your first time unchaperoned with your intended; even just meeting him in the dead of night in the hallway seemed thrilling. But when he suggests you go to the lake, your whole body shivers at the prospect—not only for the clandestine time alone but also for the chance to dip a toe into the cool water, such a tempting prospect after an unrelentingly stifling hot July day.

The setting is stunning, the trees surrounding you a beautiful silhouette under a blanket of stars, the milky white waxing moon reflecting upon the mirror-smooth surface of the lake.

Benedict squeezes your hand and catches your eye.

“Shall we?” his buttery voice is such an alluring temptation you can’t resist.

“We shouldn’t…,” you demure.

“That, my dear fiancee, is not exactly a no,” he murmurs, releasing your hand to strip off his shirt, revealing a toned chest that makes you bite your cheek.

“You first,” you whisper, a light breeze ruffling the strands of hair around your face as you watch him raise an eyebrow and reach for the buttons on his britches.

“If you wish to remain innocent, avert your eyes,” he suggests playfully.

You inhale sharply and spin around to face the house, your cheeks aflame, but your eyes cut to the side, half hoping to catch a furtive glimpse of your husband-to-be’s naked body. You hear the rustle of clothing being shed and then the splash of water as he seems to throw himself in bodily. The moan he makes as he surfaces does things to your insides that you don't fully understand, steadfastly still facing away.

“You may turn around now,” he calls, bemused, “I am concealed by the water.”

You slowly spin around to see him standing upright and almost choke. The waterline hugs low on his hips. So dangerously low there is dark thatch of hair peaking above the surface. And above it, acres of toned, muscular, very male torso painted with water droplets. You know you are staring—you know you are probably slack-jawed. Your gaze eventually reaches his face, and it's sin personified. He knows exactly what he is doing to you, teasing you, his hair slicked back against his head, emphasising the handsome lines of his face.

“Are you coming in too, or is this merely a spectator’s sport for you?” he intones, that lopsided grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You are so troublesome, Mr Bridgerton,” you murmur, trying to school your expression, but you just end up biting your lip, very much wishing for a fan as you feel your face heating.

“I promise nothing untoward,” he offers chivalrously, holding out a hand to beckon you in, “unless you want it,” the dusky addition makes your stomach flip.

He turns around and shoots you a sultry look over his shoulder before jumping up and diving back down into the water in a perfect fluid motion…. Giving you an eyeful of a very pert, very shapely, naked bottom as he does so.

“Dear god…” you exhale, looking skyward, knowing this will test your willpower, but somehow still drawn inexorably towards the water. After all, it has been such a HOT day; this will cool your body like nothing else.

As he swims away, you strip off your light silk robe to your white cotton nightgown and place a foot into the water.

The rocks under your toes are cool, smooth and slightly mossy. It feels heavenly. And so you wade in, the ground falling away fast, and by the time you are four paces from the edge, the water tickles against the apex of your thighs, and you sigh. The cold tamping, the fiery heat you feel there, mainly due to the man making his way back to you in a leisurely breaststroke, a smile on his face.

“So glad you decided to join me,” he lilts. “It's so refreshing, is it not?”

“Yes,” you sigh, moving deeper so the water is up around your waist, your nightdress starting to float up and away from your body. “Such a balm,” you add.

He hums in agreement and tips his head back, looking up at the moon.

“The moon shines bright. In such a night as this. When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, and they did make no noise, in such a night.” his delivery wistful.

“Shakespeare,” you breathe, your heart speeding up at the lyrical words he speaks from memory.

“Indeed,” he looks over at you, his eyes soft. “I enjoy nothing more than the truths he reveals so poetically. How he talks of beauty, nature, all the range of human emotions, and love,” he expands, moving closer, little waves of water buffering against your breast as he wades shallower and you deeper, drawn inescapably to him.

He takes your hand from the surface and bends down slightly to kiss the back of it, his warm lips grazing your knuckles a contrast to the cool water dripping from your fingertips. Your breath catches in your throat at this simple move. You want to say something in response, but somehow all of your vocabulary seems inadequate, and you feel quite tongue-tied.

“Come, swim with me,” he prompts softly, pulling you into the deeper water, and you let your feet float up from the ground.

Your nightgown pooling in diaphanous layers around you, the cool water seeping into every crevice of your body, making you feel calm and soothed for the first time since this insatiable heatwave began. You start to move in a leisurely stroke keeping up with Benedict as he glances over and smiles at you encouragingly.

The moon, the sound of water moving gently over your limbs, the rustle of the trees and the trace of scent wafting from the nearby rose garden all make for a wonderous moment, and you roll onto your back, staring at the stars.

“Thank you for this,” you say quietly as you both slow, nearing the middle of the lake.

“It is my pleasure,” he assures.

“It is very romantic,” you murmur, knowing your cheeks blush at your words. “The setting, I mean,” you quickly amend for some reason, somehow reticent to express romantic feelings.

“Not just the setting has to be romantic,” he offers, his voice low as he moves closer again.

You have to put your feet back onto the stony bottom to not feel unmoored by the tone and the sultry look in his eyes. The water is up to your neck almost.

“Benedict,” his name a sigh from your lips, even though you are unsure why you say it. A reflex, a call to him, a warning, even you do not know. All you feel is the heart beating wildly against your ribcage as he crowds into you.

“Y/n,” he purrs, and even in the water, you feel suddenly flushed. “Im going to kiss you,” he whispers, almost a warning, giving you a chance to move away.

Instead, you hold his molten gaze, equally excited and nervous about the prospect. Apart from a few chaste hand kisses, you have done nothing more in all your years on this earth.

“Okay…” you exhale shakily.

And then there is a large hand cupping your whole face, tilting you up to look at him. This close, he is so handsome, all cheekbones and strong jaw. You just freeze like a rabbit in the crosshairs. There is a warm gust of air over your nose as he breathes out, and then soft lips damp land on yours.

Something fires in your chest like a gun, and your eyelids flutter shut. Then he is pressing harder, more insistent, moving his lips against yours. Unsure of what else to do or how to catalogue what is happening, you try to mirror his movements, pushing back with your closed lips up onto your tiptoes—a noise from deep within his body thrills every inch of your being. Arms band tight around your body, you are pulled against a solid warm chest, and your whole world explodes into fireworks behind your closed eyes. You can't help the gasp over his mouth, and his responding deep chuckle vibrates your entire being.

“Darling, I haven't even kissed you properly yet,” his tone dripping with bemusement as he speaks against your lips.

“What do you mean?” you stutter, trying to adjust to being in his strong embrace.

“Do you know what a true kiss feels like?” his question is so dark and smooth it hypnotises you.

“No,” you answer, breathing a little heavy.

“You are about to.”

His lips are back, and this time he opens his mouth, the hot wave of moisture, heat and taste taking you by surprise. His tongue rolls against your lips. You squeak, and on instinct, your mouth opens under his. Now it is massaging against yours, and there is a molten hot tingle between your legs. What on earth is he doing to you? You feel drunk, overwhelmed, just so much taste, sight, smell and just him. It seems apt you are in a lake seeing as you feel like you are drowning in him.

He breaks away slowly, and as you reopen your eyes, he smiles at you.

“How was that?” even you can detect the pride in his tone, knowing exactly how affected you are.

“Wonderful,” you respond honestly, and he beams at you.

And then he is kissing you again. The same passionate way. And then again. Over and over, your lips meet; minutes blur into each other. Exploring each other's mouths, his hand tender on your jaw.

“Would you like to know more?” There is no way you can resist that dark honeyed tone.

“Yes,” you sigh, desperate to understand what awaits you once you are married.

The hand around your jaw slips lower, fingers trailing over your neck as he holds your gaze. You can't look away, but your breath speeds up as that hand feels so heavy travels lower, fingers trailing your collarbone and then sinking lower, mapping your sternum as your chest rises and falls quicker than before. That crooked grin unfurls as he moves his hand to the right and cups your breast over your now translucent nightgown. You inhale sharply as your body responds, blood running hot. And then his fingertips trace over your nipple, and you moan lightly in your throat.

“Yes, darling,” it's gravelly, and his face is one of understanding for your plight and sheer carnal delight that he is the cause.

His other hand moves from around your waist, mapping your side until it mirrors the actions of his other hand on your other breast, and you practically swoon against him.

“Benedict,” you utter his name shakily, his smile turning predatory.

“My darling wife-to-be, your body was made for me,” he murmurs. “Look how well your breasts fit into my hands.”

You bite your lip as you look down at the beguiling site of his huge hands holding your body; something ablaze inside you, liquid and volcanic. It makes you want to pull up and wrap your legs around his body, press him into the middle of your thighs, into that tugging ache.

“Show me more,” you plead, looking into his eyes, watching his pupils rapidly dilate and his tongue dart out to lick his bottom lip.

Then one of his hands moves to the buttons in the middle of your nightgown and flicks open a button. And then another. And another. And another. All the while, his fingers trace the slit of skin revealed down to your navel. His hands land on your shoulders, pushing the two sides of your nightgown apart and sliding it down over your arms.

Under the water, you are now topless. Your skin breaks into goosebumps that have nothing to do with the water temperature but everything to do with the man in front of you.

Then you are wrenched back into his strong embrace and stunned into silence at the feel of his naked chest crushing yours—so solid, so smooth, your nipples pebbling so hard under his contours.

His lips find your neck, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his shoulders, hands mapping the lithe tone, the play of muscle under your fingertips.

You can scarcely believe something this good is possible. You have heard married women talk of needing to submit to the will of their husband's desires. But if this is anything close to what they mean, you wholeheartedly disagree. You want to submit to him utterly. Completely. He can do this to you as much as he wants.

“I will,” he responds fiercely into your skin, and you realise you must have said your last thought aloud. “Darling, I will kiss and hold you and do so many wonderful things every day if you will allow me.”

“You can do whatever you want to me, Benedict,” you vow.

His responding groan right into your ear makes every inch of your body tingle.

“Darling, my sweet, you have no idea what you are saying yet, but god, I hope that is true,” he sounds so fervent, so very overwrought.

“Are you distressed, Benedict?” you blurt out, pulling his face between your hands and looking into his eyes, worried about how agitated he seems.

“No, my love,” he reassures, “this is passion; this is need. I want to do so many many things with you. But we should not until we are married.”

“Are there not things we can do before we are married to help with your need?” so curious to know more.

He leans his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. “I can hold you, and we can touch in places, briefly….” It sounds so taboo your blood runs hot.

“Where?” you breathe onto his cheeks.

“Between our legs,” he mutters back.

“I ache there,” you confess, “when you kiss me.”

He groans again and licks his lips; eyes still screwed shut. “That is wonderful news, my love. That is how it should be; it means you desire me as much as I desire you.”

“How will I know that you desire me?”

He grabs your wrist from around his neck and guides your hand slowly underwater. Then he presses your hand against something large, hard, and entirely unlike what you have between your legs. Your eyes go wide; your mouth falls open. Your hand on hot, steely flesh.

“That,” he rumbles, his eyes flaring open, stare piercing yours, “that is how you know I desire you, my love.”

“Wh.. what is that?” you gasp.

“That is my cock, and when we are married, it goes inside you,” he explains breathily as he presses your palm more forcefully into it, rocking his hips slightly.

“What? Where?” you are completely non-plussed.

He pulls your hand away and slides it between your legs, the layers of your nightgown billowing in a ring around your waist.

“Right here,” he intones softly, and you gasp as he pushes your middle finger up and into your body, his grip on your hand so tight.

“It won't fit,” you fret.

“It will,” he soothes, releasing your wrist, “look, it can take my finger and yours.”

That is all the warning he gives before his long elegant digit plunges into your channel, flanking yours. You inhale staccato in shock and awe at the feeling.

“You are so very tight,” his voice at once reedy, “but I assure you, my love, I will fit. That is the marital act,” he adds, slowly withdrawing his fingers and yours.

“THAT is the marital act?!?” your mind still reeling from what has just transpired. “I have heard rumours that I must allow you to do things to me for ‘the marital act’. But... but I had no idea; I had heard it is unpleasant but short.” you frown, confused.

He huffs a laugh and grabs your jaw, pulling you against him so close his cock brands hot against your belly.

“It shall be neither, I assure you of that. You will demand, and receive, from me pleasure. At length.” Something in the way he says it stokes a fire inside you that cannot wait until that day. “But until then…” he sighs, pulling away, “we must resist further temptation, my love. As much as I want nothing more than to wrap your hand around my cock and push my fingers into your body, it is not fair to defile you as such yet.”

You pout at him as he reluctantly hauls your nightgown onto your shoulders beneath the surface. He has teased you with what awaits, and you are now hungry for more.

But he kisses your lips chastely and turns back to look at the house. “We should probably swim back to shore and depart for our beds. Now that we are cooled down,” he adds with a wink.

“Speak for yourself,” you grouse uncharacteristically, refastening your buttons. “I may well be feeling more flushed now than I was before I stepped into the lake. No thanks to you.”

You have never shown your sassy side to Benedict before, always trying to play the demure fiancee your family has lectured you to be. But with everything that has happened, you feel unable to school your real personality from flaring out of you.

And the look he gives you is everything. It is desire, fascination and surprise all wrapped into one handsome raised eyebrow. You want to bathe in it.

“Oh, Mrs Bridgerton,” your upcoming name dripping syllable by decadent syllable from his lips, “such a sharp tongue. We will have plenty of fun putting that to very good use, I assure you.”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #1k notes #1k notes omg you guys!

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jeannineee · 10 months

Note

intertwined p. 5??? hanging on the edge of my seat and SO IS CASSIAN

Intertwined (Ⅴ)

Batboys x Reader

a/n: Final part!! I’m sorry it took so long lmao. Requests are open!!

straight SMUT under the cut. (18+ please)

The moment they finished their apples, the three males were ushering you into your bedroom. The tension was palpable; their pupils blown, muscles visibly taut through their clothing.

The three of them tore at your clothes, leaving no inch of your skin untouched. Cassian wasted no time lifting you into his arms, laying you back on the bed. He’d barely kicked his pants of before he was lining his cock up with your entrance, burying himself inside you with a guttural moan.

“So fucking perfect,” Cassian grunted out. His hands dug into your thighs, hard enough to leave marks.

The moans that left your mouth had Azriel and Rhysand springing onto the bed, their naked forms nestling on either side of you. Rhys trailed wet kisses along your neck, your chest. He took your nipple into his mouth, grazing his teeth over it, then soothing the hardened nub with his tongue.

Azriel’s hand found home on your clit, circling it in tandem with Cassian’s thrusts. And his mouth? Cauldron spare you.

Azriel’s voice sounded like sin personified, each word giving you just as much pleasure as Cassian’s cock sliding in and out of you. “You look so pretty with his cock inside you. Taking him so well.”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. It was too much, and yet not enough at the same time.

Cassian angled his hips, hitting your sweet spot repeatedly as Azriel’s fingers continued working your clit. Your release barreled through you, vision going hazy as Cassian spilled into you with a groan.

Cassian leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours for several moments, before slowly pulling out. You were still coming down from your high as Rhys laid on his back, pulling you on top of him. His hands ran along your thighs, up to your hips, keeping you upright.

You braced your hands on Rhys’s chest, lifting yourself, before slowly, slowly sinking down onto his cock.

“Cruel, wicked little thing,” Rhys breathed, his abs tightening as you set a steady pace.

Azriel was behind you in an instant, his shadows caressing your breasts, teasing your clit. He nipped your earlobe, earning a shudder from you. “Think you can take both of us?” he murmured, hands tracing over the swell of your ass.

You sputtered out a string of yes’s and pleas. Azriel didn’t hesitate, gathering some of your arousal on his fingers, slowly working your hole open with one, two, three fingers, as you continued riding Rhys.

Rhys squeezed your hips, halting your movements as Azriel entered your ass, praise falling from his lips like honey. Cassian laid on his side now, gathering the hair at the nape of your neck, tilting your head back.

Azriel and Rhys started moving in unison, and Cassian swallowed your moans, his tongue dominating your mouth. You reached your hand down, stroking his cock fervently.

The room filled with the sound of your shared moaning, and skin slapping against skin. You were on the brink of another orgasm as Rhys’s voice swept into your mind, alongside images of the three males fucking you, from their point of view.

“You were made for us, darling. Look at how perfectly we fit.”

You cried out, body trembling as they fucked you through your orgasm. The sound of your moaning was enough to have Cassian spilling into your hand. He gathered his cum on his fingers, popping them into your mouth. Rhys groaned at the sight of you eagerly taking it, eyes screwing shut in pleasure as his release coated your walls. Azriel followed closely behind, biting your shoulder to stifle his moaning as he finished.

The two males remained connected to you as Cassian traced along your spine comfortingly. You’d hardly had time to catch your breath before Rhys spoke in your mind again. “I think you can give us a few more, darling.”

You wouldn’t be leaving the bedroom any time soon.

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tearskillstardust · 5 months

Text

; WHICH CHARACTER ARCHETYPE DO THESE GENSHIN CHARACTERS EMBODY?

albedo, ganyu, raiden shogun, kazuha, lyney, neuvillette, venti

— no tw. reader gender irrelevant.

✧ ALBEDO

— "the shadow self", "the outlaw". he would represent the archetypal character that almost every reader adores for their originality but they cannot replace the hero because they lack the ambition or just the ego or push. he would be the character that comes to peace with their dark sides and manages to live, adjusting to the fact that they are a ticking time bomb. the comfort character for the lost or misguided, one can say.

— his personality is focused on themes of self-realization. mainly he was created by rheindottr to fulfill her own ends at the times, though, arguably, he ended up being so much more than an experiment. his own fate or history even, is quite close to that of kunikuzishi's, except that he found right guidance since the start in life so he knew what was right and wrong, what had to be done, what could be left.

— while wanderer represents the villainous side of the spectrum because of his inability to come to peace with his true identity, albedo represents our ability, our strength, our courage to be able to grow fully into ourselves, in spite of our flaws and accepting them as a part of our complex tapestry of a life.

— albedo would be best fit in stories that aim at either— self realization/finding a purpose in life or adventure. he'd be the character that indirectly puts the hero back on track when they're lost or the one that stands beside them when they are alone or feeling hatred/disgust for themselves.

✧ GANYU

— "the mother", "the lover", "the herald". the main focus of ganyu's persona is around themes of protection, nurturing and guidance. she represents the mother, or guardian figure of our childhoods whom we often looked up to as a safe figure to be guided by. she represents the link with childhood we all have, or in this particular case, the hero of the story.

— perhaps what dumbledore was to harry potter, or sally jackson to percy jackson. these are figures that are ultimately lost or forgotten in the long run as the hero is exposed more to their goals, but their teachings and actions play a significant role in shaping their personality and moral compass, often times, even as the only ray of hope in situations of hopelessness. she guides us forward, the kind mother, and encourages us to find ourselves in the world.

— ganyu shared an almost common past with xiao but they both turned out to be completely different individuals. this is, again, the manifestation of ganyu's motherly, kindred yet guiding spirit. while xiao gave in to karma and temptations of sin and duty, ganyu managed to keep sane. she represents our ability to find ourselves when we are lost. the childhood friend whom we really adored, or a past lover who taught us life, even an autumn leaf that taught us of life in death.

— ganyu would best fit in stories that revolve around themes of— growth/metamorphosis or achieving a goal/fulfilling a dream through a lot of struggle or just romanticization.

✧ RAIDEN SHOGUN

— "the guardian", "the herald". raiden shogun embodies struggle and discipline. her principles, her teachings revolve around saturnian themes of discipline, delay and patience. in fact, she is much like ganyu in the sense that she could represent an elder figure we really looked up to when we were younger except that the warmth and emotion is much lacking. she fascinates, and guides as well— but unlike ganyu's 'kind mother' persona, she traps us like mother nature and stops, resists change and evolution.

— in order to overcome her traps, we have to evolve in ways that are foreign to us. like a butterfly, perhaps, when it is coming out of the chrysalis. nature tries to stop it, but the butterfly has to struggle against it and spread its wings for the first time and fight its way out. and those who can't fight, fall right to the ground.

— she personifies the part of our lives that are bitter-sweet by nature yet beneficial. take kazuha's struggle with her as an example. kazuha could have very well thought of the shogun as a deity, a figure that represents the huge change in his path in life. she does something, which affects him indirectly, but hugely.

— her action puts him on his life path, that is self-realization and the quest for knowledge, but there was a struggle initially out of which he had to emerge. he will not judge her kindly, but she played an important role in making him what he is. she put him, the hero of his story, on the path to his true life goal by being the herald of sorrow and grief in his life which forces him to re-evaluate everything and face the harsher aspects of life.

— she is much like the sphinx. she puts us on our paths and kickstarts everything, which is the huge difference between her character and the villian's— the villian brings change that is harmful by nature whereas she brings change that is necessary to evolve, no matter how you see it. she fits and is necessary in every story.

✧ KAZUHA

— "the hero", "the wise". kazuha is a manifestation of an evolved hero. a hero who has achieved their target, their goal and is in the search of the lesson they now seek the most. he represents the noble side of our personality, our morality, our ability to find our path in life through every struggle. he is representative of our light side, our jupiter, our teacher.

— [please also refer to raiden's paras, i have explained kazuha's life very well there] kazuha is metamorphosis, growth through struggle and sorrow. it is arguable whether or not his personal goal will be seen as a goal for all, but one can observe that the change he goes through after his exodus from inazuma is a change every hero has to go through at some point in time.

— apart from that, he is also perceptive, wise and sage like. he offers insight and knowledge very kindly when one may be lost. unlike a character that simply dumps information, he filters it a lot and gives the seeker precisely what they are looking for. and yet, the main essence of the wisdom is never quite lost or overlooked.

— he guides the traveller when they come to dead ends. he shows the path forward gently. he doesn't hold our hand through it, yes, but he is the ray of light when everything is following. perhaps a small clue, a gesture, an action or even a signal. like how zeus guided thalia in pjo, if anyone here has read the books. he didn't hold her hand through it, he simply showed her where she ought to go next when all seemed lost.

— kazuha would best fit in stories that revolve around themes of— truth/epiphany or struggle/sorrow or simply a life based on ambitions and targets that ultimately morphs into a life lived for others.

✧ LYNEY

— "the lover", "the sidekick", "the trickster". lyney embodies fun and love in a very kind manner. you could say that he is like the character we would all admire for their optimism and hope even in the worst of situations. they help the hero through ups and downs in a more practical way than "the mother" or "the wise", and represent ideals of peace, serenity and a love for life that are usually lacking in the hero.

— characters like him generally include— will solace from pjo, ronald weasley from harry potter, john watson from sherlock holmes, the last one, though, to a lesser extent. these characters are generally ignored for most of the time unless a calamity strikes which the hero can't deal with on their own and these characters shine all of a sudden, with their peace-making attitudes and harmonious persona, and often times, even common sense.

— although, unfortunately, these characters lack the assertiveness or even the dedication and devotion to fulfill an endeavour to the end through paths littered with sacrifice and sorrow. this is why they cannot replace the hero although they do a very good job in say, comic relief, introducing love and life, and even help the hero out of their trauma when all is said and done. they are usually emotional and kind.

— lyney would best fit in stories that revolve around themes of— childhood connections/stories that start from the very beginning of someone's life. he would fit in every story line as long as his personality does not conflict on an ideology basis with the hero.

✧ NEUVILLETTE

— "the hero", "the mother", "the wise". neuvillette is the most reliable figure in all of fontaine, as is emphasized continuously. he is the reincarnation of the hydro dragon and is born amongst his own people in his second life. his depth of emotion and empathy is such that even the skies weep when he is sorrowful. he is kind by nature and embraces the harsher aspects of life with a wise approach.

— he embodies the fulfillment of goals through struggles and with continuous sacrifice and patience. his character can be compared to somewhat that of yudhishthira from the hindu epic mahabharata. he was the son of the hindu god of justice and balance which is why he lived a life of righteousness and penance despite being continually belittled. he was deprived of his birth rights but still maintained his patience and lived and treated others with nothing but kindness. he does achieve his goal in the end, albeit with a lot of sorrow due to the loss of family in the war, that is the throne of the aryan nation, which later comes to be known as 'bharat'/ india.

— neuvillette too, keeps his string of patience through millennia of suffering. he does not give up for the sake of his people and emerges what someone looking from the front of the curtains would call successful, though he himself barely looks at it that way. he feels sorrow at the loss of focalors/furina and cannot entirely accept it emotionally, though he fulfills his responsibilities as the ludex with utmost devotion.

— he is the vessel of the noblest of human traits and embodies kindness in a way that is rarely ever seen, even treating melusines with kindness and respect. he is the kind of hero who always achieves his targets in the end because of his complete devotion to righteousness. not in the traditional sense—but entirely in the morality and wisdom sense.

— neuvillette would best fit in stories that revolve around themes of— morality/wisdom or sacrifice/dharma.

✧ VENTI

— "the trickster", "the rebel", "the wise". venti is much like lyney actually, but he is much more enduring and wise. venti is our rebellious side, that demands us to seek what we deserve irrespective of what others think we do. he fulfills his own goals quite cleverly, never quite clearly and by intertwining them with others plans and ambitions. in spite of that, he is still led by his wisdom and patience, and he does not use others for his means, the theme of which is quite apparent with tricksters.

— he is coy and lighthearted. he leads us forward with subtle hints and clues, never being precise or direct with it. but his own input is always there when needed, without the presence of which, things will not be able to progress. he rebels against what is wrong and easily breaks through society's perception of right and wrong. his presence is the kind of presence that usually motivates the hero to be wild and unrestrained with passion and freedom. he represents freedom in its purest form—kind, liberating and patient.

— in spite of all of this however, he is not moral. he is inspiring ideed, but his ideals can be dubious and self-centered and not entirely trusted. he is wise though his own knowledge is usually for his own good.

— his character can be described as being close to that of the weasley twins in harry potter, chiron from pjo, odysseus from tsoa. a mix of all of them perhaps, into a very chaotic and morally grey personality.

— venti would best fit in stories that revolve around themes of— mischief/cleverness at play or best friends to lover tropes, except that he plays match maker.

more a character analysis than anything else lol, still, i really enjoyed this one!

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jarofstyles · 7 months

Text

FICTOBER DAY 11- Smile

FICTOBER Prompts/Masterlist

Patreon

1.3k

Warnings- incubus/succubus, smut, threesome mention/ sex w other people mention, mmf/ffm mention, demons, blood, halloween etc

“It’s never a good thing when you smile like that…” Y/N whispered as she tugged her partner’s arm towards her, eyes narrowed in humorous speculation as she watched his smirk grow. The club was dark and foggy from that god awful fog machine the hired DJ had brought, the scents mixing in the room making her want to plug her nose.

Halloween made it much easier for them to be their authentic selves. Harry and Y/N often had to hide their eyes, curtain them with human presenting ones when they went out to search for trouble. Tonight, Halloween night, had to be the best of the year. Mischief and sex, costumes galore, sin city personified. Their black eyes were assumed contacts, Y/N’s sharp black nails dragging over the front of Harry’s chest. A short black skirt barely covered her thighs and a lacy black corset top was doing little to hide her swirls of black markings down her neck and back. Harry’s were slightly more hidden, but his form always got attention. It’s what made them so good at what they did.

Succubus and Incubus.

“It’s a good thing you love to be bad, isn’t it my love?”

Y/N chuckled, trailing her fingers up his bare skin and catching his jaw, nails digging into the skin as she turned it back towards him. “What’s the point of wearing a shirt if you’re barely going to button it, hm?” She squeezed his face, her own saucy smile rising on her lips. “Who’s caught your eye, darling? Someone pretty that we can feed on?” Her eyes met his, reading that he had done exactly that.

When they normally went on the prowl, they’d take their time- but it was like a buffet tonight. People ready and willing, eyeing both of them up. They were made for pure sexual attraction, humans being drawn to them like a magic spell as their energy infiltrated a space. To be chosen by both of them? The human would have stories for days. Being in a threesome with two of the best looking people they’d ever seen, bragging rights for days. They wouldn’t miss the blood that either of them took, nor would they mind their sexual energy being feasted on. For humans, it was a magical experience. No loss, no hurt, only one of the most pleasurable and euphoric experiences of their lives. The haze would follow them for days and they’d feel their touches for weeks on end, but it wasn’t harmful. Wistful, perhaps.

The only drawback? No one would ever compare.

They’d search the world for a human who’s cock was able to press right into that spot like Harry’s had, someone’s tongue that swirled around their most sensitive bit the way Y/N’s did, desperate for a taste of either of them, but they wouldn’t. Not unless they came about another of their kind.

Their routine varied, as Harry claimed that ‘Variety is the spice of the afterlife’. Sometimes her chose, sometimes she did. It wasn’t like there was a lack of interested participants who approached them either. But Halloween was a night that all sorts of guidelines were lifted, and their rule for only having one encounter a day was lifted. With the ability to keep the spread of diseases, they didn’t have to wait to leave from one club to another, working on their third now. The high was lifting them up, their first two playmates safely tucked in cabs to get back home and surely sleeping off the exhaustion they had given them.

“Show me, H. I chose last time, so it’s your turn now.” She watched his eyes flutter shut as she dragged her nails back down his throat to rest at his chest, a subtle growl leaving his throat. He loved pain, loved her nails, and his one and only soul mate. The sex with others was fun and games, a way to provide energy, but his real lifeforce was loving his sweet goddess. No one would ever compare to her, to the way she made him feel both inside and out of the bedroom.

There was a difference between fucking for fun and for their needs, versus the love they made to one another. Their lovemaking varied between soft, soppy morning sex to bloody, rough, primal sex. There was no doubting what they preferred, and it was always each other. His arm wrapped around her waist, swinging her swiftly in front of him as he dipped his face to press cheek to cheek. “The one in the little devil costume.” He murmured, brushing his cock against her ass. “We did an angel earlier, but I’d like to see what the little devil has in store. Bet it’ll be a lot of fun, don’t you think?” He brushed his lips against her cheek, pecking it lightly. “Messy girl. Still have a bit of blood on you.” Swiftly, his tongue licked against the corner of her lips and hummed before tightening his grip on her. “We’re only halfway through the night. Already getting messy for me?” He clicked his tongue at her, feeling her eye roll despite knowing her arousal was at the top.

“It’s the one day we can be. I can get blood all over my outfit and no one will blink an eye, think m’just a sexy creature.” She laughed, turning in his strong arms to peer up at him. “You know how much I love a mess, but you’re worse than me, aren’t you?” Her thumb was gentle now, brushing his bottom lip. It was still swollen and some of her lipstick stained them a cherry red, enhancing his pale skin even more. His clean shaven jaw was sharp as a tack and his white teeth tried to nip at the pad of her thumb playfully, but she was too quick. Her man was too handsome for his own good. “Mm… I know you love to bury your tongue in holes, any of them, and get all wet.” She had seen it firsthand just 30 minutes ago, the woman writhing under them as Y/N sat pretty on her face and watched Harry lose himself in the taste of their new friend. “I can still smell that girl on you. She was a fun one, wasn’t she? Had to revoke those wings as soon as you touched her.” She purred, wrapping an arm over his neck. “And you love when they choke on your cock. The other boy I chose did such a nice job taking you into his throat, hm? Amazed him a little with how much you can cum… All over his face, and his ass too. So don’t tease when you’re just as bad as me.” Her voice floated to him, making him groan. His cock was against her tummy this time, perpetually hard and her words only made it worse. “And if you want to take care of the hard time you’re currently having, throbbing against me, you better go pick up our playmate and bring them back to me.” Her hand slipped rom his neck, dow between them and cupping his erection.

His cock was her favorite and alway would be. Perfectly thick and curved, she’d never met a person who didn’t like it, but to her it was perfection. Her prized possession. Having a soulbond with someone who pressed right where she needed, that filled her up to the brim and fucked her good enough to have her growling was all she needed. Leaning up, her lips pressed against his own with a soft ‘pop’ as she pulled away, not getting too carried away yet. “Go on, pretty boy. Since you know how much I love to be bad… get us a slice of our trouble for the night. We’ve got so many more friends to meet.”

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #Harry styles Halloween #Harry styles incubus #Harry styles succubus #demon harry styles #harry styles smut imagine #jarofstyles fictober 2023 #jarofstyles fictober

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kkarmiic · 1 year

Text

To be loved | Asmodeus x GN!Reader

🫐’ CONTENT AND WARNINGS

// synopsis: Asmodeus breaks up with you and you have to learn to live without ‘love.’

‘+ genre: Angst/Comfort

*# warnings: Breakups, Asmo is kinda an ass. Some Satan x reader if you squint.

\\ authors note: This is so self indulgent and is me coping

You fell in love in the most unexpected place, hell. To a demon he holds you ever so gently, places face masks and traces your skin.

Who looks at you with love you never expected to receive, who kisses you like there’s nobody else in the world. They love you, and you can’t help but love them too.

You love their silky hair and love their eccentric personality. They love how you love them.

You hadn’t figured that out until three months in, or five months into your exchange program.

You kept quiet, this way you could have them, even if your heart sink when they traced your skin and kissed you, you knew they were aware of the other people around you two. You knew that they did it for a reaction out of the other demons. The scandals and rumours when they got even the slightest bit close to someone else. They thrives off of it. You lived with it.

Secretly you wanted to be loved too.

It wasn’t until another two months later, five months in or seven months into your exchange program when they pulled you aside, hand running up your upper arm, just as usual, such a meaningless touch, but something felt wrong.

“Honey…” Asmodeus began, a pout forming on the underside of their lips. Voice drawling, eyes filled with fake sympathy.

At that point you knew.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Was all you could ask, taking a shuddering breath as they responded with silence. That’s all you needed to know.

Just as you turned on your heel, head held high, or as high as it could be considering your chin was wobbling, body shaking and eyes beginning to prick the corners of your eyes, they spoke.

“Listen, you’re just… Not giving me what I want.” Asmodeus had clearly skipped past the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ cliche. But why would they follow that? This wasn’t a fairytale, wasn’t a dream, this was hell, and they were a personified sin.

At one point they had to leave; or you would first, you were going to go home in another five months, and that would be it. You had sworn to yourself you’d make it work, you’d still have your phone, and they would have theirs. You could visit all the time and vice versa, but deep down you knew this was coming.

They had been pulling away for some time, stopping your self care nights, stopping eating lunch with you, walking you to and from school. Warning signs perfectly laid out in-front of you, but you pretended not to see them, for if you didn’t see them, you could pretend it was a shock when they left, pretend not to understand why and to not admit to yourself you should’ve left the moment you realised they didn’t love you.

Your response came simple, bland and dry, refusing to cry in the middle of the RAD halls. “Okay.”

Ofcourse they’d be offended by that, your nonchalant attitude paired with the lack of an ‘adequate’ response almost set them off, but instead they turned and walked the other way, leaving you in the hall.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, either in shock or because you were focused on willing yourself not to cry, but it was enough time for Mammon to come find you, you could hear him from a mile away with those clicking shoes and the cologne he wore.

“Oi! Human!” He yelled on sight, slipping his hands into his pockets and making his way to the still unmoving you.

His voice was raised as he took the place in-front of you, attempting to stare you in the eyes, you still didn’t move. “How long were ya’ gonna keep me waiting for?!”

Your voice came out in a mere whisper, tucking your chin to your chest as you did so. “Sorry Mammon.” You had never apologised to him for your own actions, not so sincerely.

If clearly took him off guard, raising an eyebrow at your statue like figure.

“Eh? Y/N? You alright?” That was all it took, all it took for you to start crying, those tears you had been both proudly and carefully holding in behind that stone cold expression.

Your bottom lip wobbled for the last time before you wailed, finally meeting his eyes, clasping your hand against your mouth, legs feeling weak and body trembling.

“Y/N!?” Concern etched his voice, grabbing onto your upper arm just as Asmodeus had moments prior. “Lemme find Asmo!” Ofcourse. Ofcourse they had to be brought up,

Them and their stupid silky hair, their stupidly good fashion sense, them and their stupid eccentric personality and their fucking stupid gorgeous smile that you couldn’t help but to fall in love with.

“They.. They.. Broke up with me!” You choked out between sobs, you didn’t expect to become such a mess all of a sudden, to start wailing in public about someone who most likely doesn’t even care, who most likely checked out of the relationship before it even happened.

For a mere moment Mammon seemed shocked, before his gaze relaxed. He knew this was going to happen too, knew that they were going to end it, everyone had clearly saw the warning sides, the same ones you pretended to be blind to, pretended not to see because you were terrified if you saw them that would be an opening. And maybe you were a little selfish, thinking that if you pretended not to see, they wouldn’t see either, that everything would go back to the way it was, or worse, you’d get to hold them for a minute longer.

That’s not the way it worked out. Why would it? Just because you’re blind to something, doesn’t mean everyone else is, doesn’t mean everyone else wasn’t talking about it, placing bets on how long it would take for them to discard you, just like the one before, and the one before that. You just hoped you were different, that they would stay and love you.

They didn’t love you. You realise that now, watching as Mammon sighs, not sure what to say, clearly having had this conversation many times before, clearly seen the line of people crying over the same person you were crying over now.

I’m sorry wouldn’t cut it, nor would any touch or gift, because the only gift you wanted was love. Love that you don’t have, that had been given to someone who doesn’t care.

Numbness swallowed you whole.

This was your third day of not going to school, not leaving your room spare for going to the bathroom and not talking to anyone.

Lucifers patience was growing thin, if he knew you were going to be this heartbroken, he would’ve never let you date them in the first place, he thought you knew what you were getting into. He was wrong.

A soft knock on your door. You’d had a revolving door of visitors over the past couple days, all trying to coax you to come down to eat, or go to school, you doubted tonight would be any different.

“Hey.. Y/N?” Satan this time. A soft sigh and you could hear shuffling as you assumed he sat against the door.

“Listen, I’m not going to beg you to come downstairs.” You chuckled at the admission, poking your head out of the blankets wrapped firmly around you.

“But uh. I know how much it hurts, to be heartbroken like that.” Another pause. “Shocking, I know. But nonetheless, it’s okay… to take your time. Healing takes longer than anyone expects.”

Satan had once been in love? Satan was sympathising with you? Odd.

“I’m not going to say I’m here if you need to cry, because I hope that’s a given. But also, if you need anything, I’m only one text away.” Sitting up, you ran your fingers through your hair, biting your nails as you opened your door, watching as he fell through onto your wooden floor.

The first time you’d laughed in three days. Satan shuffled up, rising to his feet and dusting off his sweater before glancing around your room, the empty breakfast bar wrappers and random trash was definitely an eyesore.

He chose not to comment, you appreciated that.

“I can accompany you if you’re coming down.” While your attire wasn’t at all appropriate, still in pyjamas, you were seriously considering it, after all you know Lucifer wouldn’t scold you for it, or at least you hoped so.

Asmodeus got practically banished from the tables with stares the moment you appeared at the top of the stairs, they rolled their eyes and pushed past you, the awkward situation making you want to run and retreat back to your room, not to the human world like you’d been thinking the previous night, after all, you still have friends here.

Taking your seat, everyone’s eyes bored into you before Satan spoke up.

“Y/N isn’t a novelty to gawk over, have some respect, they just needed time.” He tutted, beginning to eat. That seemed to snap everyone out of their trances, averting their gazes and digging into their food.

That night you didn’t end up holed in your room, you ended up in Satans. It wasn’t anything sexual, not by any means, instead you were reading, a fantasy book that Asmodeus would’ve made fun of. No longer secretly, you were enjoying it and Satan was listening you nitpick the characters and get annoyed at their choices.

He was listening to you with a smile and you couldn’t help but smile back, for once you felt loved, perhaps not in the romantic sense, but having even one person who cared, who understood and who loved you for you, for your niche interests and hobbies other people find weird. That’s true love.

You were happy to love Satan.

#obey me x reader #obey me angst #obey me x reader angst #obey me breakup #obey me x reader breakup #obey me x male reader #obey me x gn!reader #obey me x you #asmodeus x reader #asmodeus x male reader

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wkyarts51243 · 7 months

Text

Hello incubus, sucubbus and all the inferior

beings of hell .....

-Here I will post a little about the seven deadly sins, official designs of those that have already been shown in the series and my interpretation of the 3 sins that have not yet been shown, much of this information is not official and some may be changed over time

The sins:

•☆pride

•♤Wrath

•♧Gluttony

•$Greed

•♡Lust

•◇Envy

•□Sloth

So let's start

Lucifer Morningstar 🍎👼

Prince and embodiment of pride

Mythology:

Lucifer[a] is one of several folklore figures associated with the planet Venus. The entity's name was later absorbed into Christianity as a name for the devil. Modern scholarship generally translates the term into the relevant biblical passage where the ancient Greek figure's name was historically used (Isaiah 14:12) as "morning star" or "bright one" rather than a proper name, Lucifer.[1]

As a name for the Devil in Christian theology, the most common meaning in English, "Lucifer" is the translation of the Hebrew word (הֵילֵל, hêlēl)[

Lore:

Lucifer is the king of all hell, being the representative of the ring of pride where he keeps his ducklings (the sinners) locked away, he is a circus master and the most powerful infernal understanding, being first in the hierarchy

the fallen angel who, because of his pride, fell from heaven

Azazel "Satan" 👿

Prince and embodiment of wrath

mythology:

Azazel (in Hebrew: עזאזל)[a] is the name given to an angel, who would be charged with the task of raising human faults and enumerating them before the Divine Court, during the annual judgment of humanity.[1] He is, on the other hand, a mysterious figure, who appears three times in the Hebrew Bible

Azazel is also commonly known as the one responsible for the sin of Wrath among the Seven Princes of Hell (which correspond to the seven deadly sins).

in some interpretations azazel is related to satan but it depends on which mythological interpretation you want to follow

Lore:

azazel is the god of imps, being its creator, the absolute ruler of the entire ring of wrath, being its sheriff and warlord

He is responsible for the artillery and army of Hell, being the highest ranking general only below the Morningstar family.

Queen Bee-Lzebub "bee" 🐝🦊

princess and embodiment of gluttony

Mythology:

Beelzebub (name derived from Baal Zebul or Baalzebub, also referred to as Belzebuth; in Hebrew: בַּעַל זְבוּב‎‎, Baʿal Zəvûv; in Arabic: بعل الذباب‎‎, Ba'al adh-dhabâb) is a deity in Philistine and Canaanite, formerly worshiped in Ekron, and later adopted by some Abrahamic religions as a great demon. The name Beelzebub is associated with the Canaanite god Baal

being confirmed in the series that she is associated with or is the demon Baal himself, as the Goetic symbol of invoking such a demon is seen in her mansion

Lore:

bee is the queen of the gluttony ring, she is responsible for the entire food chain in hell, having fast food services that take ultra-processed food to all hell, she dates a hellhound called vortex

bee likes to throw parties for the hellhounds and in them she satisfies their greedy needs and then apparently they produce her honey when they are satisfied(I hope the process is not similar to that of bees in real life )

Mammon 🤡💰💲

prince and embodiment of greed

Mythology:

Mammon is a term, derived from the Bible, used to describe material wealth or greed, most often, but not always, personified as a deity. The word itself is a transliteration of the Hebrew word "Mammon" (מָמוֹן), which literally means "money". As a being, Mammon represents the third sin, Greed or Avarice, also the antichrist, devourer of souls, and one of the seven princes of Hell

Lore:

mammon is the greedy and absolute ruler of the greed ring, whose role is to manage the entire economy of hell ,He represents a jester and has apparently created some demons that follow the same jester theme.

I don't know what but there's something about this design that makes me love mammon

King Asmodeus "ozzie" 🐓👑

prince and embodiment of lust

mythology:

Asmodeus (in Greek: Ασμοδαῖος) is a character from the second part of the Book of Tobit, described as a demon whose role is to hinder the consummation of the marriage of the character Sarah, daughter of Raguel

The figure of Asmodeus is linked to Avestic Ashmadaeva, the demon of wrath of Zoroastrianism, who personifies the main negative forces of Persian religion.[1]

In addition to being one of the 72 spirits of Solomon used in Goetia, Asmodeus holds the title of king and has 72 legions of inferior spirits, he is the 32nd spirit in Goetia.

lore:

asmdoeus is the ruler of the lust ring , being the "weakest" infernal prince (second crimson) ,his job is to create new ways of giving pleasure to his incubus and other inhabitants in hell, having factories to create sex toys, etc., he dates a little imp called fizzrolli

I made a small change to Asmodeus's legs because I didn't like the fact that they were so thin, please don't bother me

Leviathan "Levy" 🐍🌊

prince and embodiment of envy

mythology:

Leviathan (Hebrew: לִוְיָתָן; roman: Livyatan, Liwyāṯān) is a fierce fish mentioned in the Tanakh, or Old Testament. It is a creature that, in some cases, can have a mythological or symbolic interpretation, depending on the context in which the word is used. It is usually described as having large proportions.

lore:

Leviathan is the supreme ruler of the ring of envy, I don't know for sure how the ring of envy itself would work but I believe it is a large ocean with cities in it

He is responsible for fashion and social networks in hell, having the function of dictating trends, thereby sowing envy and disagreement among lesser demons.

it has a smaller, more versatile form, which its symbol represents

This design is not official so don't bother me

Belphegor "bell" 💊😴🐐

princess and embodiment of sloth

mythology:

Belfegor (Belphegor; "the lord of fire") is a Moabite deity venerated on Mount Fegor. In Christianity, he is considered the demon of laziness, discoveries, rot, inventions, creativity and cycles.

lore:

she is the dominant figure in the ring of laziness, owning several factories and laboratories to create medicines and drugs, her sin is followed when you fail to do something important so it takes you out of your comfort zone

an example of this is avoiding saving someone's life because it would hinder you

belphegor is a close friend of bee-lzebub but their relationship has not yet been shown in the series

This design is not official so don't bother me

#helluva boss #helluva boss oc #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel lucifer #helluva boss mammon #helluva boss asmodeus #helluva boss beelzebub #helluva boss leviathan #helluva boss azazel #helluva boss belphegor #helluva boss satan

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