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smxhyphy · 4 months ago

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Dearly beloved we are gathered here today to honour @queeniesblog, who enables the demon living rent free in my brain. Consider this an early-early-early gift. 1.9K words, AFAB!MC, Favor VN wedding night DLC lmao

Z insists on carrying you across the threshold. You’re not even sure where he heard about the tradition, antiquated as it was. Perhaps the demon had overheard one of your more imaginative bridesmaids daydreaming about it, or maybe Z had crashed some medieval wedding in Europe and liked the idea of tossing his chosen human over his shoulder and making off with them like a beast out of the darkest folktales. You hadn’t been able to get a straight answer out of the demon, which was such a common occurrence you wondered why you'd even tried in the first place.

“You only had to carry me into the house,” you roll your eyes, wrapping your arms tighter around Z’s broad shoulders. “Not all the way from the wedding venue. I didn’t have to be in your lap for the whole trip.”

He’s partly shifted, the transformation dial swinging somewhere between the mostly human veneer you met them as and the massive abyssal creature you’ve only seen when the demon slips into your dreams. Even then, the shape was unclear, leaving only the vague sense of being utterly dwarfed by a thing so far beyond human comprehension that your brain struggled to put the separate pieces together.

This form is easier to perceive. At the very least, the 7ft 5” frame didn’t make your brain struggle with the wretchedness of the chthonic depths.

Z’s arms tighten around your frame, tar-drenched hands sliding over the pearl-studded filigree of your snow-white gown – their idea of a joke – to squeeze the plush underside of your thighs.

“And let those weaklings doubt my claim over you?” Z’s lips pull down into an exaggerated moue of distaste. “Perish the thought, Dove. Besides, you were the one who vetoed the other ritual–”

“I’m not letting you fuck me in front of your entire court!” You cut him off, face hot with what you are choosing to label as pure mortification. The lascivious flash of Z’s teeth tells you otherwise and you do your best to glare right back. “It’s not happening, you horndog!”

“Mm, I don’t know sweetheart,” Z murmurs and holds you closer, pulling you flush against his frame. Curved fangs nudge at your throat, exerting a sharp pressure through the delicate collar wrapped around vulnerable flesh. It’s a heady reminder. It is also a delicious threat. You shudder, a breath hitching somewhere in your chest, and the demon laughs at the sound, breath hot against your skin and sending another shiver down your spine. “I bet I could figure out some way to convince you.”

As soon as the door to the bedroom opens, Z’s lips are on yours. The kiss is fervent, devouring, an arrogant forked tongue pressing into your mouth with intent that has you squirming in place. Your own hormones and the weight of his huge frame pin you to the bed while rough hands roam over your body, greedy and insatiable, the demon unable to control the sheer voracity of their appetite for you. They caress the shape of your body through your clothes, groping with palms that feel burning hot even through layers of beading and silk.

Their tongue traces a slick trail up to the sensitive skin behind your ear. The jagged pinch of canines against the helix of your ear has you choking back a desperate whimper, and the demon retracts long enough to click his teeth. “Nuh-uh. Whine for me, baby. I wanna hear every sound out of that pretty little mouth.”

The next bite is far less gentle, and the wordless cry that falls from your lips burns your cheeks. You want to retaliate somehow, but Z’s tail is infuriatingly out of reach, lashing back and forth behind the demon’s back in a manner that betrays their obvious excitement.

“There’s my Dove,” Z coos against your lips, smirking at your overheated expression. “Poor thing, you must be so uncomfortable in all those layers, darling. Here, let me help you get those pesky clothes off.”

A hand grabs the front of your strapless dress and yanks, filling the room with the sound of tearing fabric. Before you can open your mouth complain, Z’s mouth is on your exposed breasts, and your mind instantly goes blank. Your back arched, head falling back against the pillow as the demon laves his tongue over your nipples, drawing them deep into mouth and sucking as though by sheer dedication he can force your tits to grow swollen with milk.

Muscular arms reach down to hitch your hips around Z’s waist. It’s a stretch in this form, huge as he is, and your thighs split embarrassingly wide. You gasp, feeling the solid weight of his bulge prodding against your barely clothed cunt and you can’t stop yourself from pushing harder against the thick length. The lingerie you’d worn for your wedding night was designed more for form than actual function, hardly more than a few thin pieces of pearl-white lace held together by thinner ribbons. A single tug from your fingers would send it fluttering to pieces.

Already sheer enough to narrowly fit the definition of underwear, your juices have turned the fabric nearly transparent, moulding it against the lips of your pussy. In the face of that, Z’s cock seems like overkill – prominent veins grinding back into the motion of your hips with enough force to knock the breath from you.

“Look at you, getting my cock all nice and slick,” Z groans into your ear, an arm hiking your left leg higher while the other pinches your chin and drags your face to meet his fiery gaze. “Fuck, you’re drenched baby. Such a needy hole, huh?”

“Z!” You spit out the demon’s name, fed up with their teasing. “I need–! Just put it in already!”

“Put what in?” He taunts, blinking those amber eyes innocently while a fat glob of precum pools at the tip of his cock. You feel the obscene warmth when it reaches the sodden cloth barely protecting what’s left of your chastity. You open your mouth to repeat your demands, but another jerk of Z’s hips has you whining again. When he speaks again, his voice drips with false regret. “Whoops, I’m so sorry Dove, I didn’t mean to. Come on, use your words baby. I’m listening. Where exactly do you want me to put my cock?”

“I-Inside,” you gasp, struggling to hook your ankles at Z’s back so you can draw the demon closer to you. “Please, I need you inside!”

“Then get those pretty panties off, Dove,” Z pushes themselves up, taking the weight off their arms and off you. The sudden change fills you with a strange sense of loss, until you lift your head and find the demon still looming over your, eyes still fixed on your debauched state with terrifying intensity. It’s inhuman; a flat, hungry stare that promises to swallow you whole – bones and all.

A hand is wrapped around their cock, rhythmically squeezing dark flesh up and down and occasionally pausing to thumb the bulbous tip that oozes sticky precum. The sight makes your mouth water, until Z lets out a dark chuckle.

“Dove,” he croons, hand never stopping or slowing down, “you know how impatient I can be. Unless you want me to shove my cock down your throat instead of that pretty little cunt, I’d advise you to stop looking at me like that.”

Huffing, you manage to tear your eyes away and focus on reaching for your underwear. It’s practically tissue at this point, scarcely more than scraps clinging to your cunt, and yet the act of peeling them away feels somehow obscene. Instinctively, you try to inch your legs shut, but a large hand catches you by the ankle and drags you into the embrace of an inferno.

You catch yourself against Z’s broad chest, yelping when you find yourself back in a variant of your earlier pose – this time balanced upright in the demon’s lap instead of pinned prone on the bed. Z’s cock finds itself back against your pussy lips, this time without even the minuscule protection of your underwear. A glance down reveals the sheer difference in size between the two of you, his cockhead reaching beyond your navel.

“You can take it, honey,” Z hums, reaching down to press two fingers through your slick folds. The stretch has you gasping his name, wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders as your pussy squeezes around Z’s pointer and middle digits. He stretches you out, whispering filth into your ear while he fondles you with a teasingly condescending sort of affection. “Aw, is it too much for you, pet? You can handle a little more for me, can’t you? Oh no, no, no, don’t you dare hide your face from me, darling. You’re so cute when you cry. That’s it, give it to me.”

Z jams his thumb against your clit, curling his fingers at the same time. Your vision goes white, blurry with tears, as you careen into an orgasm so intense that you swear you see entire galaxies spinning before you. When you manage to come back to yourself, the head of his cock his lined up with your hole. A pleading moan is all the acquiescence Z requires before it pops in, and you scramble to cling to your sanity.

The stretch burns, a pleasurable heat that arches your back and forces another inch of Z’s cock into your cunt. “Shit,” the demon curses, an arm holding up your weight and the talons of the other gripping the mattress below in a concerted effort to hold back as best he can. “Fuck don’t do that, Dove. So goddamn tight, you’ll make me come if you don’t stop squeezing me like that.”

“Feels too good,” you moan back, fighting the urge to obey gravity and sink down onto the girth splitting you open. Only Z’s grip on your waist prevents that from happening, and it’s your turn to grow impatient. “You said I could have anything as long as I asked. Are you going to deny me on our wedding night?”

“Hm, I see someone’s grown spoiled,” Z smirks down at you, unmoving despite the flush high on his cheeks. Behind him, his tail thrashes back and forth, belying his smug words. “Ask me nicely pet.”

You barely refrain from rolling your eyes, before biting back a sardonic look of your own. Leaning closer, you force yourself to balance on your knees – dislodging Z’s cock completely, causing him to curse under his breath – and press your lips to his ear.

“Pretty please, oh Great Marquis, won’t you please come inside my cunt?” You whine in the most breathy, put-upon, amateur porno actress voice you can muster. “I’m so wet for you, and I need you to shove your fat cock into my tiny little pussy and fill me up so much that I can’t even stand. Please Z, please fuck my wet little – ah!”

“Be careful what you ask for,” Z hissed, spearing you on his cock. Once again, your world vanishes, reduced to nothing else beyond broken moans and the burning pleasure of Z’s swollen cock abusing your aching cunt. “Don’t worry, Dove, I’ll make it up to you. Since you want my come so badly, I’ll make sure to fuck you niiiice and full. After all, we have all the time in the world…”

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smxhyphy · 4 months ago

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Has anyone read a story where Shinsou gets one for all?

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smxhyphy · 5 months ago

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Your body jolts from the impact, the sting of Z’s tail bruising your flesh. You might have complained, but your throat hasn’t been capable of anything more audible than the occasional sobbing whine. It’s a symphony of broken pleas and pitchy moans as you struggle to stay upright on numb knees.

Z for his part, just leans back in his seat and looks at you with a fanged smirk. His face is just as red as yours, and his nails puncture holes into your side where he’s gripping you. Your attempt to push yourself up is easily thwarted as the demon promptly shoves you back down, grinding his cock deep inside you.

“Ah-ah-ah,” he tuts, licking the blood from his claws with an impossibly long tongue, “you're squirming so much, little human. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“P-Please…” The word drools from your lolling tongue, and you lose the battle with gravity. You slump forward, balance only maintained by the tail entwining around your waist, between your chest, and pinning your hands behind your back.

A clawed hand grips your face and drags your gaze back to a feral, fiery smile. “Please what, sweetheart?” He coos, all poisonous, honeyed sweetness. “Shall I put my hand around your pretty little throat? Do you want me to bounce you up and down on my cock like the cute little toy you are? Come on Dove, speak up.”

“Please…more-!” You plead, and then gasp when Z topples you onto your back. His bulk forces your legs wider, the new angle reaching new spots and jolting a scream from your throat.

“Keep those legs nice and wide open for me, Dove. Remember, you asked for this.”

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smxhyphy · 5 months ago

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A birthay drabble for the one and only @tiffykins-yeah and anyone else whose bday happens to be nearby! Happy belated/future birthday lmao

The cake had been Z’s idea. Well, the idea of baking a cake had been their idea. You suspected – and said suspicions were eventually confirmed – that he had simply seen a picture of some food on fire and had immediately stopped paying attention to anything else. A part of you shuddered in distant horror for the day they learned what flambe meant.

To reiterate, although making a cake from scratch had been entirely Z’s idea, you were still unclear on where the ingredients had come from. When you’d nervously inquired about how much the numerous bags of flour, icing sugar, butter, strawberries, maraschino cherries, and more had cost, he’d just stared at you blankly for several seconds before gleefully holding up a several packs of sparklers that did not look like they belonged anywhere near food.

You tried to tell him that those weren’t birthday candles and, even if they were, you didn’t need 50 of them for one cake. Z whined, you pointed out that it was a fire safety hazard, he yelled something like “your face is a fire safety hazard. You know. Because you’re so hot-” and while trying to snatch the sparklers from him you’d tripped and knocked over an entire bowl of whipped cream onto yourself.

That had been half an hour ago.

“Mmph…ha~” One of Z’s arms boxed you in, planted by your shoulder and pinning your back to the kitchen table. The other held your legs aloft, corded muscles flexing as he squeezed your thighs tightly together around the heavy cock thrusting between skin. “Fuck, little human how does every part of you feel so good?”

A moan forced itself past your teeth. Perhaps against your will, your teary eyes were drawn to the sight of thick, charcoal-dark flesh forcing itself between your legs, the arms trapping you in place with hardly any strength so the creature above you could use your body like a plaything. A gasp as the weight of his cock slid an inch too far back and poked against your entrance, the head teasing your hole before thrusting back through the slick crevice of your limbs.

It was almost worse than being fucked normally, more perverse somehow. Precum drooled from the tip, thick globs that dripped hot over your sex like some profane anointing. The sound was unholy, the squelching coinciding with the slap of skin, interspersed with both of your moans.

“What do you want, Dove?” Z’s tongue, long and black, snaked from a sharklike grin to lick a drop of cream from your cheek. Your body shuddered when he leaned over you, lips brushing over the shell of your ear while he pushed your thighs closer to your chest in a truly obscene pose. “It’s your birthday, honey. Don’t you want a present?”

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smxhyphy · 5 months ago

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“You’re squirming so much,” the demon below you teased. You gritted your teeth, glad that this position prevented you from seeing the truly smug grin on his face. Especially when he nuzzled the tip of his nose against the crease of your thigh and continued with an airy, “and after all that bragging too. I guess someone was writing checks their pretty little mouth couldn’t hope to cash out, hm.”

“Impatient much?” You snarked back, annoyed that he was partly right. Huffing, you balanced yourself on your arms and trailed your eyes over Z’s body, the too-warm expanse of muscled flesh that tapered into a defined Adonis belt, the thick bush of hair the same hickory brown-black hue as his head and then finally at the main obstacle before you.

Z chuckled from behind you, his hands happily wandering the expanse of your thighs, hips, and anywhere else he could reach. Lines of fire followed every touch, broken by sharp flashes of pain where Z had decided to leave yet another toothy reminder of who you belonged to. You shuddered, almost forgetting yourself until a firm slap of his tail against your ass jolted you back. “Don’t keep me waiting now, human,” he hummed, low and expectant.

Determinedly, you wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock, butterflies bursting to life in your stomach at the way your fingers couldn’t even meet around the thickness. The almost foot-long appendage was so heavy that it flopped over, leaking globs of precum down the coal-dark tip and over your fingers.

“Thaaaat’s it,” Z drawled, a low groan meeting your burning ears. “Get those cute little fingers moving, Dove. Make me all nice and wet for that tongue of yours.”

Saliva pooled in your mouth, under your tongue, almost threatening to spill down your chin. Not wasting anymore time, you parted your lips and sank the tip of Z’s cock into your mouth, licking and bobbing your head as you readied yourself to swallow everything they had to give.

The force of his breath raised you up and down. The teeth at your thighs loosened, leaving yet another bruise. “Such a good little human,” Z praised around a moan, and as much as his condescension irked at you, there was no denying the shiver of pleasure that sent the butterflies buzzing like mad. As promised, that was when you felt the tip of Z’s tongue tracing over your sex in gentle circles. A few soft, exploratory touches at first, lulling you into a false sense of security. Then he attached his lips to your core and sucked.

Shrieking, you collapsed onto his hips, arms unable to hold yourself up without shaking. “Z–!” You cried out.

The demon didn’t respond immediately, mouth too full of the best meal of their life. His tongue fucked into you, sloppy and wet and hot. Twisting and prodding at that sensitive little spot inside you, until all you could do was whine and sob. Eventually he retreated just enough to deliver another swat to your ass, this time with a palm as his tail was busy coiling around your throat.

“Aw, did I say you could stop?” He cooed, sweet as molasses, the tone irreverently juxtaposed by the way his tail tightened gently around your neck. Not hard enough restrict air, but enough that you felt the constriction every time you swallowed. “Or are you tapping out already, baby?”

“F-Fuck you,” you gasped out, licking up the side of his cock and swallowing the sticky white dollop of precum trailing down the skin like candlewax. It was hot, salty and spicy, a warmth you could feel traveling down your throat and into your belly. “I c-can do this!”

This time, when you swallowed down his cock, you pushed yourself a little further, your hands massaging the remaining 7 or so inches that wouldn’t fit. Every time you gulped, you felt the tip of his cock at the back of your throat, and you wondered if he could feel through his tail the way it bulged against the skin. Judging by the volley of curses that escaped their mouth, the demon must have.

You barely had enough time to smirk with vengeful glee though, because as soon as Z opened his mouth again, you were struck helpless. No longer careless and messy, his movements had become intensely focused though no less voracious in their appetite for you.

“Ngh!” Finally, your head dropped again, this time accompanied by not just your arms, but your legs as well. You could feel the puffs of air against your sensitized core as Z snickered, but you were too out of it to care about anything other than the too-much-too-good sensation. Your knees, jellylike as they felt, dug into the bedsheets and tried to push you away.

“Mm, where do you think you’re going, Dove?” Z cooed, dragging you back in place even as your fingers clawed at everything in reach – the bed, his skin, the air – to pull you away. The kiss he pressed against your core was perhaps meant to be soothing, but the smile he shot you was anything but. “We’re not finished here, are we?”

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smxhyphy · 5 months ago

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“…this time when you roll upwards, make sure to land in the malasana pose with your palms pressed together and centered over your heart.”

You obeyed the low, sultry tones of the yoga instructor coming from your phone, inhaling in and exhaling out deep breaths while mimicking their fluid movements to the best of your ability. You kept your eyes resolutely forward, both to ensure that you remained focused on the workout, but also to keep your attention off the demon seated behind you.

Z had been quiet for the past several minutes. Uncharacteristically so. A part of you wanted to turn around and check on them, but you were also wary of doing anything that might cause them to act up. Z was capricious at the best of times, and predicting the whims of a demon was an exercise in futility.

Still, you couldn’t quite tamp down the combination of nerves and curiosity bubbling in your chest. What was he doing?

Playing it as naturally as you could, you followed the workout video’s instructions to breathe in as you pushed your lower body up into a forward fold. Blood rushed to your head for a second as you let your head hang down, giving you a brief window of opportunity to peek through the gap between your spread legs.

The demon was just. Sitting there. Legs crossed on the floor, knees tucked under the coffee-table. Scarlet eyes fixed on you with unsettling intensity through the gaps in his hair. His chin was propped up on ash-black knuckles, the other hand splayed flat over the wood surface (Later on you would walk past and notice the four lines of grooves scratched deep into the tabletop). His tail swayed from side to side like a metronome, but it was the only part of him that moved.

In fact, now that you thought about it, Z was in the exact same position he’d been in when you’d started your workout 20 minutes ago.

A bit unnerved, you paused the video and stood up. “Are you bored or something?” You called out, swinging upright and sweeping the hair out of your face. Now it was your turn to stare as the demon seemed to return from wherever their mind had taken them. They cocked their head, and you folded your arms over your chest. “You haven’t moved in almost half an hour. Are you still mad that I didn’t want to go on a date with you today?”

“How petty do you think I am, Dove?” Z placed a hand on their chest, lips twisting into a melodramatic pout. “Do you honestly believe that I am the type of person who would hold onto such grudges? That I would despair over the fact that my darling little human doesn't want to spend a whole day with me, and would rather do…what did you call this activity?”

“Yoga. And I said I’m not committing arson with you, Z. At least not without a solid alibi in place,” you rolled your eyes at his antics. “And since you keep forgetting that human laws exist and that jail is a very real place, then yoga it is.”

“Awww, Dove. You're so cute. You really think I would let you spend a second out of my sight?” Z chuckled and sprang to his feet, slinking up to you with mischievous intent. Your eyes narrowed, half surprised and half suspicious when Z craned his neck over your shoulder to study the tanned blonde woman on screen. The subtitles below informed the viewer that she was rotating from a downward-facing dog into a flip. “Hmph. Looks weird.”

“Some moves can be. Difficult too,” you agreed, grimacing as you remembered how much your stomach had hurt after holding a boat pose for too long. “Sometimes I can’t hold the stances for long enough, and then I just get frustrated with myself.”

Z hummed in acknowledgement, and then a sharp grin crossed their face. “Why don’t I help out?”

“You what?” You blurted, unable to stifle your surprise. “You want to...help me with my work-out?”

“Well since someone doesn’t want to help me burn down a really ugly mega-mansion, I suppose this will suffice for a date activity,” Z sighed dejectedly. “Besides, how hard can it be? All I have to do is make sure your poses are correct and last for as long as you’re supposed to, right?”

“I mean. I suppose so…” You agreed slowly, searching his face - or what little of it you could see - for a sign that this was one of his jokes. “Are you sure?"

"You're gonna hurt my feelings, you know," Z pinched your chin between two fingers, the pad of his thumb pressing down on the plush swell of your upper lip. He shook your head gently, firmly, commandingly. "I said I'd help, and so I will. All you need to do is say 'thank you Z'."

"Thank you Z," you parroted obediently, unthinkingly. Despite your wariness, you couldn’t help the little thrum of excitement. "Okay, give me a second.” You quickly pulled up one of your usual routines and got into position.

As it turned out, your suspicion had been extremely warranted. Oh, the demon certainly pretended to play along at first; indulging your adorable determination to push from cow to cat to dolphin pose while his hands remained chastely on your waist or between your shoulder blades. However, it didn’t take long for the façade to fall away in exponentially quick increments.

Domineering fingers resting far too low on the small of your back while you were in downward-dog. A greedy hand cupping between your legs when you settled in a leg-lift. The bulge of his cock squeezing between your ass cheeks when you stretched into an extended puppy pose, the girthy weight of it obvious through both his jeans and your very thin yoga pants.

“Fuck, do you have any idea how much of a tease you’ve been, Dove?” Z groaned; one hand was shoved up your shirt to play with your nipples while the other sliced a convenient hole in your pants. Before you could complain, the flat end of his tail slid into your mouth, pressing your tongue down until all you could do was drool and whine while the demon admired the sopping wet mess between your thighs. “I’ve been holding back all day while you flaunted yourself in front me. How cruel, sweetheart.”

Hypocrite. You tried to shout his name, tell him to hurry up and do something, but the tail in your mouth gagged you effectively. Nevertheless, he must have picked up on what you wanted because it didn’t take long for two fingers to slide inside you, stretching you open with a ruthless and perverse desire to watch you cry.

“Ah-ah-ah,” Z clicked his tongue admonishingly when you tried to sit up. “You’re not done with your workout yet, Dove. Face down, hips up, now.”

“But–!” The threat of fangs against the nape of your neck froze your complaints, and the obscene stretch of his cock sliding into you halted them completely. Saliva poured from the corner of your mouth, eyes rolling up into your head as his hips slapped against your ass. Obscene squelches echoed throughout the room as every harsh thrust forced thick globs of cream to drip down your thighs, the noise mixing with your own loud whimpers and Z’s feral growls.

“How are you always so tight?” The demon hissed. His teeth drew rivulets of blood which he licked away, tongue raking over your throat to mark the spot for another bite. Your hips bucked unconsciously, the movement causing your body to squeeze around his cock. Z retaliated with a harsh thrust, one that nearly knocked you to the ground. The demon’s moan was interspersed with a low, rasping laugh. “So fucking needy, huh baby? Need me to fuck you over and over so this poor little hole never forgets what it feels like to have me inside you? Make you my pretty little mess, is that it? Yeah, that’s it, Dove. You can come if you want to. Doesn’t mean I’ll be done with you after though.”

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smxhyphy · 5 months ago

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hhhhhhhh can you tell I'm not used to doing bratty reader-inserts?

“I don’t have to listen to you! For all I know, you’re just some imaginary monster inside my head. You can’t tell me what to do!”

Surely famous last words were supposed to be far more eloquent than those. In your defense, you hadn’t meant it completely. You were just taunting the demon, trying to rile them up a bit. After all, it wasn’t fair that they were eons old and could order you around whenever they felt like it. Wasn’t turnabout supposed to be fair play?

Apparently, Z didn’t think so. The moment the words left your lips you felt the atmosphere change. Your heart lurched, feeling as though you had just accidentally missed a step on a staircase. Like you had selected the wrong dialogue option in an RPG and caused the cheerful background music to stop. Past your racing thoughts, you could see Z just staring at you; chin still resting on the heel of their fisted left hand. Smile as wide and razored as ever. Eyes the same fiery-hued gleam.

The tail though. Their tail had stopped moving.

You pressed your lips together and debated retracting your words, until the demon spoke. “I thought we’d moved past all that already,” Z commented lazily. “I know human memory is short, but I didn’t think you were that much of a scatterbrain, Dove. Come here and let me remind you.”

The urge to apologize fizzled and died. With a huff you folded your arms across your chest and stuck your chin out stubbornly. “Well, who knows. Maybe I’m just very creative and dreamed you all up to entertain me,” you replied with airiness you didn’t quite feel. “You’re doing a terrible job, by the way.”

Z’s golden eyes lit up behind their curtain of hair. “Aw, I’d love to be part of your dreams, sweetheart,” he replied, a feral grin hooking one side of his lips higher than the other, exposing canines that were noticeably longer and sharper than the rest of his already sharklike jaws.

“I’m serious!” You scowled, annoyed that he seemed to be toying with you. “I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever seen you outside this…wherever this is.”

You gestured around to indicate the bar. The bar where no one ever seemed to take notice of you or Z. Where you’d never ordered nor paid for your own drinks, and yet they always appeared in front of you without fail. The bar whose name you always forgot the following morning when you woke up in your own bed with no memory of how you got home in the first place.

“Then come closer, and let me refresh your memory, Dove,” Z cooed, holding out a hand across the table, palm up expectantly.

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. You puffed out your cheeks and glared. “Uh, didn’t you hear me? I said no.”

Z blinked, finally reacting to your insolent attitude. He chuckled low and tilted his head to the side as if to question if you were really defying him. The motion sent his thick hair cascading to the side, a wave of soft brown falling to reveal one ruby-red eye. In an instant, the hand that had been resting placidly on the tabletop darted faster than a snake, locking tight around your wrist like a hunter’s trap.

“You clearly don’t remember who’s in charge right now, sweetheart,” they said, dragging you over the table with ease. “Don’t be a brat unless you’re ready for the consequences, doll. I said come here.”

With a tug, Z had you yanked onto the table, your upper body pressed flat against the cool wooden surface while your legs remained partly kneeling on your seat for balance. You squirmed, unable to push yourself upright with one of your hands trapped in theirs.

"I'll do whatever I want," you scoffed and tried to yank yourself free, but Z’s fingers were like iron manacles. Trying to use your other hand as leverage only got it trapped too, joining it’s sibling in Z’s grip. "You're all talk, Mr. Big Bad Demon Royalty!"

Z’s free hand grasped your chin, forcing you to look at him. He smiled and leaned down, angling your head so that his smoky breath brushed over your lips. “You really enjoy testing my patience, don’t you, Dove? I think I’ve spoiled you too much. Guess I’ll have to teach you a lesson you won’t forget.”

For a moment your breath hitched, caught between an exciting frisson of terror, and then bemused curiosity when Z didn’t immediately move. Then you felt it. Something warm, smooth, yet oddly shaped coiled around one ankle and then another. You wrenched your neck around and gaped at the shadowy black tendrils coiling around your limbs, dragging them apart with barely any effort despite your instinctive rebellion. The shifting darkness pooled below you, a black hole beneath your feet from which rose a writhing mass of twisting, twining, variously shaped appendages. All different, but all sharing Z’s distinct colouring: obsidian black fading to blood red.

Several of them squirmed beneath the fabric of your jeans, sliding into your underwear to tease. Two vanished up your shirt, the tips splitting apart to latch onto your nipples and suck. One curled up to your face, dripping a thick, sticky white liquid that stained your lips and tongue when it forced its way into your mouth.

All the while Z watched you with all the fanged pleasure of someone watching their favourite TV show. Grinning while you gagged on the tendril stuffing your throat barely inches from them, both of your hands still trapped in one of his.

“Oh my,” Z taunted. “Whatever happened to all that bravado, Dove? Be grateful I’m taking it so easy on you. You’re going to come as many times as I want, baby. And by the end, I expect a heartfelt apology, or you won’t like what happens next.”

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smxhyphy · 5 months ago

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This is so rushed and spun off from a truly unhinged discussion but I needed to write something for this AU while I have timeeee @tiffykins-yeah I hope this is at least semi entertaining lmao

The day Binary Star Hero turned against the heroes; the skies went dark.

Metaphorically of course. Strictly speaking, very little changed in the grand scheme of things. Although the NAHA, reporters, and anyone with a media presence certainly behaved as though the world itself had come to an end. Herschel was on the news lamenting the loss of the earth’s brightest star to the forces of darkness, news anchors would not shut up about the catastrophic consequences of losing the greatest hero mankind had ever known, and drama youtubers milked the controversy of the NAHA’s ignominious fall from grace as Binary Star Hero – real name Ray – exited the hero headquarters followed by a bevy of interns, office workers, and bottom-rung employees. Employees who, with vicious innocence, detailed the NAHA’s horrendous working conditions.

“We didn’t even have dental,” one sighed despondently. “My friend’s teeth haven’t been the same since that rock hero went on a rampage in the office.”

When asked the reason they had chosen to follow the new villain – was it blind worship? Stockholm syndrome? Were they being threatened in any way? – the gathering just scoffed.

“He’s paying my medical bills,” one replied. “The NAHA didn’t even want to pay for my insulin. I had to argue with like 5 different people to get it added to my benefits package.”

“Wait, you were getting benefits? I’ve been working on minimum wage for years!”

“You guys were getting paid?!”

At that point, the hero formerly known as Binary Star Hero attempted to fly away from the commotion, causing one of the former NAHA employees to yell something to the effect of “quick, follow that tacky sweater!” Which caused the crowd to peal off after the rapidly shrinking red dot in the sky, leading to several traffic obstructions, and signaling the start to a villainous career change.

Ray stared at clothing rack in front of him, at the five mannequins arranged in various dramatic poses, and finally at the group of expectantly waiting…what to call them? Underlings? Sure, that worked. The underlings stared back at him, some carrying more fabric while others held sewing kits, needles, thread, and baskets of accessories.

There was no need to read their minds to understand what they all wanted, but he still felt the need to ask. “What is this?”

“For your villain rebranding, the team decided on an aesthetic overhaul,” the one at the front announced brightly, gesturing to the steel rack that had been crammed with outfits in a range of dark colours – purples, indigoes, heavy shades of grey and even denser blacks. Some had capes, most did not. “Of course, this would all be easier if you would simply decide on a new name, but I suppose we can whittle down the choices later.”

Ray flashed back to the moment he’d walked past the conference room – a massive underground addition to his lair (he didn’t call it that, but the PR team were very Committed To The Bit) – and seen a horde of them gathered around the whiteboard and shouting suggestions at the person at the front. On the interactive surface were at least 50 names, though Ray only got through Lunar Eclipse and Superordinate Gravitational Collapse before he’d decided to leave that problem for Future Ray to sort out.

Unfortunately, the future had come. “This is completely unnecessary,” Ray plucked at the sleeve of one of the outfits and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was in fact not made of impossibly tight spandex. “I haven’t even had coffee yet.”

Another employee stepped up, swiping the screen of the iPad with a finger. “Sir, [MC] will be clocking into the afternoon shift in approximately one hour. Would you like to pick up your coffee then?”

“Hm,” Ray rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “What’s on my schedule before that?”

“Uh, there’s a senator you hate giving a bigoted speech about drag queens, then you wanted me to remind you to rob that bank on 6th Avenue,” another swipe across the screen, “oh, and you’re out of ice cream.”

“The speech should be happening in the park across from the coffeeshop where [MC] works,” one of the team piped up. “We can reschedule the bank robbery and take some casual photos of you at the coffeeshop. The mid-afternoon sun would be great for the Total Eclipse social media page!”

“Dude, we discussed this! The team hasn’t decided on a villain name yet!”

“For the last time, we’re not choosing your idea!”

“Fuck you, Dark Star is a great evil name!”

“We are not linking him to a shitty 90s movie!”

“You take that back!”

Taking advantage of their distraction, Ray turned his attention to one of his favourite groups in the team. “Any updates?”

The employee saluted – Ray had given up on making them stop doing that – and pulled out her own iPad. “Sir–” (“Don’t call me that.”) “–they liked the post of you singing while playing the guitar and left a sweating emoji on the latest shirtless pic.”

“What about the one of me saving a kitten at the shelter?”

“Unfortunately, it was flagged for violence after one of the team forgot to edit out the part where you tossed someone through the walls for having an unsolicited picture of [MC] as their phone-screen background.”

“Ah, right,” Ray nodded reminiscently. “That did happen, huh. Upload it again, and monitor. If that’s all…”

He took off through the window, off to do various evil deeds and visit his favourite barista, while ignoring the screeching below as the two feuding members of the team finally stopped fighting long enough to notice his departure.

“FUCK, HE DIDN’T PICK A COSTUME!”

“SIR, AT LEAST CHANGE THE SWEATER!”

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smxhyphy · 5 months ago

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I could fix him

It was one of those days.

Ray was getting better at predicting them; the mornings when he’d wake up truly feeling the weight of the world resting on his shoulders, threatening to flatten him beneath the smothering mantle of responsibility that had been dumped – knowingly or unknowingly – upon his shoulders. Usually those were the days he’d call in sick if he was feeling charitable, or simply not show up to the NAHA office if not and just spend the entire day with you.

Although the two of you lived separately, it had quickly become clear that the arrangement was mostly nominal in nature. When Ray wasn’t out patrolling and saving the world from monstrous threats, he was at your apartment listening to your voice. And when you weren’t at work, you were at his apartment filling the once impersonal corners with the sound of music, the scent of home-cooked meals, and little knick-knacks you thought he’d like.

Most nights you fell asleep in each other’s arms, and every morning you never let him go to work without two kisses goodbye – one for ‘be safe’, the other for ‘I love you’. Ray swore they gave him energy to get through the day, just knowing you were home waiting for him, that you still loved and accepted him – flaws, monstrous desires and all. When the abyss in his chest threatened to spiral out of control, remembering that grounded him back to reality. Made him want to stay here, stay present, stay with you.

Unfortunately, it was one of those days where the NAHA were being even more annoying than usual. Half of the heroes who were supposed to be patrolling didn’t show up, and most of the ones who did bother to turn up seemed content to kick back the moment they spotted Ray’s name on the roster. The NAHA had scheduled him for three TV interviews before lunch, and during the second one a villain had attempted to blow up the studio building. While saving civilians and crew members from the inferno, one of the presenters – a popular social media celebrity if he recalled correctly – had tried to kiss him in front of the cameras. It was only decades of ingrained self-control that prevented Ray from ripping their head clean off their neck and tossing it and their body into the sky to join the rest of the trash circling the earth’s atmosphere, though he did take a great deal of spite in dropping them from just a little too high off the ground. If something happened to their anklebones, that was hardly his fault.

All in all, by the time Binary Star Hero pushed open the door to his apartment, he was ready to drop. If he could have curled up in bed and put himself into a coma for the next few business days, he would have done so in a heartbeat.

However, he paused at the entryway, surprised by the scent pervading his condo. The sweetness of coconut milk melded silkily with the warm, earthy scent of chili and cumin, which combined with the floral aroma of rosemary, thyme, and a dozen other herbs he couldn’t quite parse. Ray followed his nose to the kitchen, expecting to find you there, but only spotting a large pot bubbling on the stove – the flames turned down low to keep the soup simmering low and slow.

That meant you still had to be in the condo, but it was strange that you hadn’t called out to him. “Star?” Heartbeat ratcheting up, Ray turned to search the rest of the rooms, and just as quickly as the flare of panic had overtaken him it vanished as soon as he spotted you.

The original couch in the condo hadn’t been comfortable, the whole space having been designed more for aesthetics than coziness. Prior to meeting you, Ray had barely spent any time in his own home. After meeting you, bringing you home, and then listening to you whine about how his couch cushions felt more like glittery rocks, he’d immediately purchased a new couch. One with thicker padding, ergonomic armrests, and a built-in sofa-bed.

Cute. You were so fucking cute.

There you were, curled up on the couch with one of his jackets pulled over your torso for warmth, leaving your legs exposed to the cool evening air. Chuckling airily to himself, Ray leaned over to brush a strand of hair from your cheek, allowing the safe warmth of your presence to settle him. Just as he was about to fetch a proper blanket for you, his eyes caught on something strange.

Ray blinked, then froze entirely when he spotted a familiar shade of fabric. It barely took any of his strength to tug the jacket collar down, enough to reveal a maroon-red neckline. His sweater. You were wearing his sweater.

And not much else else, if your bare legs were anything to go by.

“Mmph. Ray?” The man watched you stir to life, yawning and blinking back the lingering remnants of sleep. “You’re home. Ugh, what time is it?”

His gaze sharpened when you sat up and stretched, inadvertently knocking the jacket off completely. The jumper, already meant to be oversized on his 6ft-something frame, was practically drowning you. The collar splayed wide, exposing the bruised slope of your shoulder and neck – still marked up from last night. The sleeves had been rolled up, presumably so they wouldn’t get in the way while you cooked, but one had come loose during your nap and now only the tips of your fingers were visible as you lifted a hand to rub the corner of your eye.

Concerned by the extended silence, you craned your neck up to look at your boyfriend. “Ray?” You called, and then let out a strangled yelp when he immediately flopped on top of you. On instinct your arms wrapped around his shoulders. “Bad day?” You guessed.

“Mm. Just let me stay like this for a while, Star,” he murmured, inhaling the heady scent of your skin, and exhaling the words into the curve of your throat.

“Food’s gonna be ready soon,” you told him, dropping a fluttering kiss against his forehead. Ray closed his eyes, blissfully receiving the gesture as a benediction. “We can watch something stupid later and eat all the ice cream I bought. I will even allow you to have some of my cookies and cream bars.”

Ray listened to you ramble with one ear, paying half of his attention to the gentle cadence of your voice while the rest focused on the steady thump-thump-thump of your heart between your ribs. The reminder that you were still here, that he was still here, that you were his.

Soon listening wasn’t enough. The rhythm in your chest stuttered and sped up, responding to the hands dragging over your body with absentminded possessiveness. Warm fingers, rough with scars and calluses, squeezed the inside of your thighs before sliding under the hem of your – or more specifically, his – shirt. They moved higher, groping the dip of your hips, the small of your waist, the softness of your ass. By the time those fingers reached your nipples you were a sensitive wreck, barely touched and yet your body was aflame with directionless heat.

“R-Ray…” You squirmed in place, one hand raised to your lips to stifle the keening noise escaping from the back of your throat, knees turning inward as you tried to squeeze your thighs shut. With careless ease, Ray elbowed your legs apart. He sat up, smiling idly at the cute picture you made. Flat on your back and sprawled beneath him, sweater shoved all the way up to your collar, exposing your gorgeous body to his intense gaze. The low lamplight cast shadows over you, exposing parts of your flushed skin and hiding others tantalizingly from view. “Ray, w-what about dinner…?”

“Mm. It’ll be fine,” he murmured lazily, unbuckling his jeans and never taking his dark eyes off you for a single moment. Ray’s movements were slow, lethargic, and full of methodical intent as his cock flopped out – swollen thick, heavy, and dripping with precum. “Just let me have this, Star.”

You’d always known that Ray was strong. Superstrength was one of the most basic hero abilities, one that often came as a passive perk with other powers. However you had underestimated how much he’d been holding back, because it barely took more than the flick of a finger for him to rip your underwear completely off.

“You’re soaked, Star,” he chuckled, knuckles running idly over your sex and causing more juices to leak out. You gasped when he leaned over you, letting the tip of his cock press against your hole. Not in, simply tapping against your wet entrance, drawing circles, or pressing just enough for the fat head to almost pop in.

He pulled away briefly, admiring the sticky strings of both of your juices connecting his cockhead to your puffy sex. His attitude was a direct contrast with yours, almost sleepily calm while you were whining and thrashing underneath his bulk, unable to do anything other than endure the burning torture.

The orgasm crept up on you. Not stalking you through the shadows, but like a monster you could see coming and would never be able to fight off no matter how hard you tried. It hit you like a tsunami, an arching wave of pleasure so good it hurt. You sobbed and thrashed, pinned beneath Ray while he watched you with that same, sleepy smile, as if you were an adorable toy being played with.

“Pretty little thing,” the man cooed as he rocked his hips in a slow, painfully pleasurable grind, forcing you through another choking orgasm on the cusp of the last one. “So good for me, aren’t you, my Star? Mm. I think I need a little more.”

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