#// pushing down his own demons to help everyone else he loves

[monogatcri]

What flavor is your soul?

rosemary

ah, the old soul, nice to meet again. the time of ages is etched into your bones, you see clearly. you've watched the heartache in this realm and sworn to solve it. but kindness without limits is self destruction. oh little leaf, strong and wise, you seek to bring peace with your presence. I'd be wrong to say you fail at this effort, but you mustn't set yourself on fire to keep others warm. you wish to please everyone, to protect them all. but if you shield the saplings from the sunlight they will never grow, and you one day will wither. protect yourself too. you know there are no happy heroes, so don't be one. be a friend. your loved ones will not forsake you for not being perseus slaying all their demons. you have your own monsters, why not meet them first before you conquer anyone else's nightmares. oh true-hearted paladin you are brave, and you are good enough. you know that right? be true to yourself, one cannot do anything saintly if they did not tend to their own wounds first.

tagged by: @ruinlost (<3 THANK YOU!!) tagging: @defiedlife @knavera @chiselight @melodicbreeze & anyone else who'd like to do this! <3

[hoshigray]

This is my first time requesting something but HEAR ME OUT, "Slow Cuddle-fucking with og Sukuna while he is holding (and caressing) Reader (His wife) tightly and praising her (with him having size(difference) and breeding kink) oneshot please please please PLEASESSS😭

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: NAH CUZ I SEE THE VISION, HOLD ON–

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size difference - monster-fucking (he got 2 dicks, y'all) - double penetration; anal and vaginal - spooning dp position - breast fondling + nipple play - breeding kink - clitoral play (pinching and swiping) - dacryphilia - pet names ([little]dove, good girl, my wife, woman) - soft! kuna, but not too OOC - mention of drool/spit and tears.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k

“Stay still, woman…Mmnnn, good girl, nice and easy…”

It’s not a rarity for Sukuna to have his hands on you as you two slept through the night. After all, he is the King of Curses; asking permission to touch his is beneath him. You were made for him to hold – sculpted for his cursed hands to touch – everyone else was far behind or had no standing compared to your demonic husband. And with you both sharing a futon every night, who’s supposed to tell him to keep his hands to himself?

You, his little spouse, knew of this. Marrying the King of Curses was something you never imagined would happen — let alone falling in love with the giant man! You’ve always had dreams of becoming a sweet little partner to someone; for that to be fulfilled by the cursed man who could kill thousands in the blink of an eye is astounding. 

And, of course, being a wife entails all the duties accompanying the package. Especially now, as you two lie together on the floor, nude bodies nestled close on the futon above the tatami floor, and your naked figure trembling from the insertion of one of Sukuna’s paired cock. And your heart drops at the second one brushing up against the crevice of your ass when he pushes the one inside your throbbing, velvety channel. 

“Mmmph…! Sukuna, no,” you whined, your butt inching away from the second member. “I can’t handle both—“

“Don’t lie; you’ve done it before and did it well,” a hand brings your waist to him. “Or maybe I should just have one of the concubines take care of me, seeing as though my own wife is neglecting their duties.” 

He wouldn’t do that; Sukuna’s interest in his insignificant mistresses had long been diminished once he took you up as his bride, practically collecting dust as he hadn’t visited them since you shared a bed with him. Now, he uses them as tools to probe you. And he has to hold back the mischievous snicker when your eyes widen with anxiousness, wrapping your arms around his neck in desperation.

“N–No, please!” You pleaded; it was the only sufficient approach. “I’ll be good to you, I promise!”

The four-eyed curse scoffs. “Then do what you’re supposed to,” Each crimson orb takes in information about your bashful expression, “And attend to your husband like a wife should.”

Further complaints cease at his command, so you quiet down and arch your behind to him submissively. Sukuna takes your initiation with his hungry bottom hand on your ass, squeezing the flesh as you guide his other dick to your lubed asshole. With a hum, he pushes himself and forces you to take his cocks with your bottom, needing a few seconds to breathe when your holes reach the base of his members.

“Good girl,” he says to your ear to make you shudder, and he lifts your leg with the hand that finished groping your asscheek. “Obeying me so well like always…”

He begins to move without a signal, slowly pulling himself in and out of your warm wetness that coats his length with your slick. You can’t help but grip the girth limbs that massage your insides, involuntarily throbbing on them with shaky breaths.  

“Mmmaah, ohhhmyG—Mmm!” Speech isn’t easy, even with his upper left hand cupping your cheeks. And your brows furrow as the upper right sneaks to grope a breast. “Faaahh, Suk..una, I’m too full already…”

“Mmm? Is that so?” Sukuna asks with a patronizing tone, licking the helix of your ear to hear you gasp. “But we’ve barely started yet, my wife. Don’t bore me before I can enjoy you yet.” 

His hips go at a gradual cadence that has you keening a mess, the sensation of the veins of his cocks felt by the walls of your holes. You howl silently, not wanting to make too much noise.

But that doesn’t fly with your husband, speaking to your ear with that hoarse voice. Almost has you melting as he squishes with your cheeks, “Let it out, princess,” he commands. “I want to hear that voice; don’t you dare hide that from me.”

Fuck, the way you felt on his dicks was so fucking good, having the cursed behemoth burrow his face into the cubby of your neck. Slow kisses on your skin segway to sucks that should mark for later. He could never get enough of how small you were up against him. His giant palm swallowed your tit, your ass bouncing with every thrust, and how damn tight you were as you accommodated the two members making your entrances busy. 

Goddamn it, he bites his lip, dialing up the speed of his ruts a bit. Scratching your inner walls has you squeaking louder, unable to stop yourself when he grinds his hips after a sudden grim pound. So warm and snug for him as if you were meant for him. He knew you were meant for him — taking his huge, fat shafts with no objections, just arching your back further so the sensation could be more pleasurable like the loyal, little pet you are. “Hmngh…! Yeah, just like that, little dove; keep clenching around me like that…”

Restraint was gone long ago, letting your voice and shrieks fly out and fill the quiet bedroom. The sound of his skin shaking against your ass, the heat of your cheeks making it hard to think, and the shivers crawling your spine with every graze to your sweet spots. Everything feels like a haze, your brain too clouded to think outside this moment. 

And then you sense the hand on your breast let go, slithering down to your unattended clitoris, which has your eyes shoot wide as your demon husband presses down. “—Khhff! Nooo, ‘Kunaa, you mustn’t…!”  

He lifts a brow with a grin; you dare question him? “And why shouldn’t I?” He pinches the delicate bud, resulting in a scream sneaking past your lips. “Hmm? Plead for yourself.”

“Becau—Ahhh! Mmmm, I’ll cum. I’m gonna cumm…”

“Then don’t,” Sukuna doesn’t remove his digits playing with your clit, and the hand on your chin pulls your face to look at him. “Cum without my permission, and I’ll make sure to not be so kind next time...” His words carry a warning filling your bones with apprehension, yet his soft lips greet yours and he hums into your mouth. The kiss serves as a distraction from his thick digits gently swiping on the pearl.

The rhythm of his hips, however, increases in speed and prompts more moans to be taken by Sukuna. Drool trickles down your lips, same with tears that welled up earlier from the insertion of his girth inside your ass. Your eyes roll at the jab to your silky walls, breaking the sweet yet passionate kiss to cry out as your husband’s fat balls smack your ass. 

“—Ooooo, fuuuck, I can’t,” your eyelids shield your vision, using the rest of your senses to indulge in this euphoric pleasure. “‘Kuna, I’m so close, so—Ooohh!”

“Me too…Ghhh! Shit, me too…” Sukuna presses his hot face to yours when you throw it back, licking the tears off your sweaty skin. You looked so stunning like this, all disheveled and immodest because of him. “Gonna take my load, huh?” He licks the sweat off your shoulder and bites when you don’t respond. “Answer me, Y/n.”

“—Ahhh, yes!”

That’s not enough. “I said,” he pinches your clit again as he gives slow yet rough ruts to your holes. And he can tell by your twitching that you’re doing everything in our power not to come. “Answer me.”

Holy shit, this was borderline torture. “Mmmph! OhhhLord, ‘Kunaaa, I want you to fill me up. Pleasee, pleasepleaseee, I wanna be full; wanna be all ‘round and fat with your child…!”

“Keh, dumb pet; who said I wanted a brat, huh?” He scoffs, yet you can hear the groan as he licks and sucks on your neck while squishing your hot, tear-stricken cheeks. “Fine then; go on and cum with me. So damn needy for my seed…”

Sukuna brings your chin for another steamy kiss, his lower left hand holding yours as his pelvis goes at an irregular pace. Your muffled shrills are taken by feisty lips, teeth clashing with his fangs before sucking on his tongue, and the upper left hand releases your chin to caress your chest once more, tweezing the nipple along with swipes to your clit.

Release gradually creeps up your shaky frame, crying to his mouth when your chasm and anus pucker around the lengths that graze your walls with the tips. Sukuna is not too far behind you, pumping his load into you with a few harsh plunges, making your contracting cunt and rear full of his hot and thick semen. The lower right hand propping your leg up leaves soft kneads on your inner thigh, hoisting it up further so his shafts are deep enough until his pulsing balls meet your ass.

You withdrew from his lips to breathe, your figure quivering through the aftershocks, and your slit and asshole still flutter around his girths. And you mewl when he kisses your cheek and temple.

“Mmm, that’s my princess,” he purrs while placing your leg down to massage your waist. “Such a good dove…”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[hazelfoureyes]

The Safeword is RadioApple (part 1)

I’m gonna go ahead and apologize right now

Lucifer x FemaleReader x Alastor

Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱ tidbit (cute, not smut) Part 4 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱✨NEW✨ ₊⊹⁀➴ Lucifer wins⟡Alastor Wins

Alastor would give you anything, all you had to do was ask. When you asked for Lucifer, he delivered. But after seeing just how much you enjoyed Alastor’s rough handling, Lucifer takes a turn and gets a little lost in the pleasure.

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader, Lucifer x Reader, smut, RadioApple in a sense, fem reader, creampie, breath play, rough sex, Alastor is an eternal little shit, soft jazz, hard jazz, Luci calls himself Daddy, 🗣️ READER GETS SPITROASTED, threesome, cervix hulk smashed, half assed blowjob, help I got too horny on main

Minors dni

“Sir.”

Lucifer jumped, whipping around and shoving Alastor’s face away. “You are a living nightmare, fuck!” He hated being snuck up on, as most people do. Adjusting his hat, he looked around the hotel lobby to see if anyone else witnessed his personal jump scare. Charlie and Vaggie were seated nearby, but hadn’t paid them any attention.

“I aim to please! Now,” Alastor gestured to the stairs, “I, unfortunately, need to show you something upstairs.”

“Ha!” Lucifer forced out a laugh, “Ha. Haaa- Not a chance, scarecrow. Find someone else to search for your brain.” He smirked to himself. “Did you hear that Charlie? I made a joke.”

But Charlie was not laughing. She finally turned her focus to them. “Dad, you have to start trying to get along with Alastor.” She looked to Alastor who was nodding along as if he actually cared at all, “He’s trying to spend time with you. Come on, Dad. For me?”

With a pout, he dramatically crossed his arms, “Fine. I’ll play nice, for you. Not for him.” Lucifer glared daggers at Alastor. “Fuck him.”

“Daaad!” She groaned.

“Yeah yeah, I’m going.” 

Alastor let his microphone follow behind Lucifer’s back, an unseen and unfelt safety net so he couldn’t back out. When they approached Alastor’s door, Lucifer put up his hands as if to physically stop the situation from progressing, “There is no way in all of hell I am going in your bedroom.”

Alastor’s eyes rolled, frustrated already with the interaction. “Are you sure about that?” He pushed the door open, using his mic to make contact with the small of Lucifer’s back. He stopped resisting when he finally looked into the room.

He took a step in, willingly, and as he saw you sitting in the center of the bed in just your silk sleep robe, he let out a quiet, “What the fuck is this?”

Then a louder, “Heeey, kitten…”. The sound of the door locking made his head whip back to Alastor, teeth bared.

“Luci.”

Softened under the sound of his own name from your lips he brought his attention back to the bed.

It was no secret to anyone that you two were fond of each other. It was the little things you did that endeared the fallen angel to you, how you doted on him. Filling his glass at dinner when you noticed it getting close to empty, holding the door for him, keeping eye contact when he went off on some excited tangent.

Everyone was also aware you were Alastor’s person. And Alastor would give you anything you wanted in death; and today you happened to want Luci.

You’d seen the broadcasts of the King of Hell defending his daughter during the last extermination. The power he gave off, even from your screen, brought goosebumps down your arms. So when you found your way to the hotel, you were elated to see Lucifer himself readily available for interactions. Your luck continued, as your father’s love of jazz had been passed down to you and allowed the radio demon to notice your presence among the sea of new residents. Following the sounds of Nat ‘King’ Cole, he found you one evening in your room, and a mutual fondness for music bore a new friend. And then, more. 

Soon enough you were a regular member of the Hazbin Hotel core crew, by way of Alastor.

That’d been some months ago now, and you finally had the courage to ask Alastor for a special favor.

No part of him understood your motivation, but the idea of making the king of hell pussy-whipped to his darling was understanding enough. And, of course, the pleasure of watching you enjoy yourself. While he was capable all his own, he was happy to allow someone else to fill in. Not to mention—- no, actually, definitely mention the fact it would give him a little more power in the tense dynamic between himself and Lucifer.

For Alastor, sharing you physically wasn’t an issue. Sex was something he did for your pleasure, though he did enjoy the control he held over you in those intimate moments.

Watching you mewl under someone else, knowing he gave the permission, that Lucifer would never have a chance in Hell if The Radio Demon didn't allow it, made his head dizzy with the loss of blood flow. Whatever pleasure Lucifer could give you was pleasure he has granted you both. The idea of someone pining for you but never having a chance unless he says so made him feel powerful.

“I have a request, of sorts.” You tried to keep your smile still, cheeks twitching with pure nerves. The room was lit by only two small lamps on either nightstand and the light coming from the half open bathroom.

Lucifer approached you, making a dramatic point of going past Alastor. The radio demon chuckled, the king of hell scowled. He placed one knee on the end of the bed, trying to forget this was the spot you shared most nights with Alastor. His smile encouraged you to continue.

“You can say no.” You added quickly. 

“Why would I ever do that?” Lucifer continued to smile at you, too sweetly for what you were going to ask.

“Many reasons.” You added quicker. 

“Come on, tell Luci.” He laughed softly at the idea of denying you anything.

You pressed the tips of your index fingers together nervously, “I want you to fuck me.”

He tried to blink but his eyelids only seemed to rise further and further up his face with every attempt.

“You what now?”

His eyes darted to Alastor, who was now crawling onto the bed and settling behind you. 

“It was a fairly straightforward statement, sir.” Alastor’s tone was always teetering on mocking when he addressed Lucifer, “My dear would like you, for some god awful reason, to bed her.”

If this hadn’t been such a shock, Lucifer would have quipped, “Oh because you can’t, you overdressed maitre d’?”

But when he opened his mouth, there was nothing. He just stared at you. Alastor’s long legs and lanky arms came down beside you, behind you. You looked like the enticing light of an angler fish’s lure, sharp teeth shining just over your shoulder. 

“I thought-,” he motioned between the two of you.

You nodded, “Alastor is happy when I’m happy. And right now, I’d be overjoyed to spend an evening taking care of you.”

Oh, why couldn’t you have said it so sweetly the first time? Take care of him? You always did. Every time he felt something lacking he’d find you close behind offering him just the thing.

Whether a smile, or supportive word, or just a sympathetic ear.

Shifting onto your hands and knees, you crawled toward Lucifer. His face was flush, his brows knitted together in some mix of worry and confusion.

“You don’t have to do that, kitten. I don’t need that.” He reached out a hand to touch your cheek but stopped himself; he’d never touched you before. He had gone out of his way to avoid it, because he couldn’t bear what it would do to him. He’d just be hurting himself, he had thought. His hand began to pull away but you reached out with both of yours and took hold of his wrist.

“I don’t have to do anything, ever, Luci,” Alastor’s grin widened as you said it. A hum of approval only he could hear. A silent, ‘That’s my girl.’

“This is about what I want.” You leaned up to rest your cheek in his open palm, “I’ll accept any answer from you.” Your eyes staring up at him promised safety, “So, what do you want?”

He buried his face in his free hand, opening his fingers to look over you once more. In the shade of the canopied bed, Alastor sat motionless. But Lucifer couldn’t see him, not because of the shadows but because his focus was so purely on you. He had absolute tunnel vision, which happened often when you two would speak. Lucifer made a low sound, coming from somewhere deep in his chest,  hidden beneath all his shame and sense of inadequacy.

Your question was answered as he removed his hat, tossing it to the chaise lounge near the wall. You sat back on your legs and gave him space to remove his coat. Your heart seemed to double its pace, skin practically vibrating. A not-insignificant part of you expected a gentle but firm, “kindly fuck off.”

He seemed to be avoiding eye contact as he pulled his bow tie loose, only returning his knee to the bed when he’d kicked off his boots. Just the shifting of the weight of the bed made your thighs twitch, finally. Alastor leaned backed and watched, Lucifer’s gaze was full of uncertainty as he crawled to you. 

Hilarious. Already worth the price of admission. 

Both on your knees, you leaned up and placed a chaste kiss on Lucifer’s lips. Pulling back, you looked at him and he felt like we’re looking at the sun. Your face was so bright, and warm. What light were you reflecting back at him? Surely not his own. That was long dead. Long buried under bruised wings and lost promises. 

You snaked your fingers into his hair and brought him in for a deeper kiss. When you bit gently on his bottom lip, he shakily opened his mouth. Your grin spread across both of your faces as you pushed your way past his lips.

Lucifer’s tongue was long, and tapered more than you’d expected. It moved, unsure, against yours. Your hands slunk out of his hair and down his chest, sliding until finding the buttons of his vest. 

You felt him gasp into you, and when you began to open his shirt he pulled away, “It’s been… a very long time.”

A scream echoed in your skulll, your own scream, thankfully entirely in your mind. He was so cute. So soft. He looked so worried, you wanted to rip him to pieces with affection. Was that possible? You were going to try.

Your hands fumbled over his belt, the tremble in your fingers making the pants button feel like an aptitude test. Your mouth returned to him, kissing down his cheeks and into the space under his jaw. Finally you could slip your hand down into his pants, and you hissed without thinking.

He was painfully hard, throbbing head pressed into his skin. 

Did you do this? Had you gotten the King like this with just a question and a kiss? Tip nearly purple with pressure, you rested your forehead on his collarbone and watched his stomach jump as you wrapped your fingers around it.

Alastor fought back a laugh, tongue nearly cut clean off with the attempt. This was better than he had expected. And he had just the idea to push it over the top.

When your head dipped to swipe your tongue over Lucifer’s cock, you both startled at the sudden sound of music. First you looked to the radio, then to Alastor.

One hand was loosening his bow tie, the other unbuckling his pants. 

“Don’t stop on my accord,” he bit his bottom lip, watching your attention return to Lucifer’s lap.

Lucifer raised a finger in protest, “I wasn’t aware this was a group activity.”

“The more the merrier.” Alastor whipped his belt off and tossed it to the floor, other hand pulling his member free.

“Three’s a crowd.” 

“Two heads are better than one.” When Alastor lifted your robe away and sunk himself into you, no preparation, you moaned into the blonde hair at the base of Lucifer’s cock.

Your breath over his shaft and now down his balls made his hips buck against you. Your hands gripped at Lucifer’s thighs, trying to get steady enough to return your mouth to his waiting heat. You could smell his arousal, your head dizzy with so many of your senses being assaulted by both men. 

“You okay, kitten?” A concerned hand came to your cheek. 

Your watery, lust clouded eyes met his, “It feels so good, Luci.” His dick jerked. When you finally managed to get him in your mouth his head fell back, legs under him twitching with the need to move along to the bobbing of your head. Lucifer was wider than Alastor, the corners of your mouth burning as you tried to take in as much of him as possible. 

Alastor’s hand raked long nails down your back, a whine ran from your throat and down Lucifer’s shaft.  He moaned in turn, trying to not connect the dots between himself and Alastor.

“I think you may need a little demonstration, from someone more–, “ Alastor leaned down, his face now inches from Lucifer’s. His hand wrapped around your neck, “experienced.” He pulled you up by your throat.

Lucifer watched, your knees no longer touching the bed as Alastor fucked up into you. One hand gripping your throat, one arm holding your body against his. Your face began to redden, and your thighs noticeably clenching as best they could, legs open and feet on either side of Alastor’s body. Lucifer winced, you looked pained, he wanted—

“Aa--Alastor,” Your voice was like honey, thick and sweet around Alastor’s name. Lucifer’s face fell flat, how could he have that? What did he need to do to have you say his name in such a debauched way? Why did that gangly sack of bones get all of the fun?

“See? She can handle more than you’d expect.” Alastor grinned, planting a kiss on your neck. You could see Lucifer watching through your wet eyelashes, his cock twitching repeatedly as his hand finally came down to touch himself. 

With the hand not holding onto Alastor’s wrist at your throat, you reached out for Lucifer. “Luci.” 

Alastor let you fall forward. Keeping your hips in the air and knees dangling just above the comforter, he continued his rough pace into your sopping cunt. Pulling your body on and off of his length with harsh drags he watched you lick from the base to the top of Lucifer’s member. Each thrust from him knocking your chin against it. 

When you popped the head back into your mouth and moaned around it from Alastor’s continued fucking, Lucifer gripped your hair with both hands. Alastor’s own erection jumped in you, the king of hell himself buckling from his dearest’s mouth. He could break him entirely by just pulling you off of Lucifer’s cock and refusing to return you. He was positive Lucifer would cry into his ruined orgasm if he did such a thing.

Tempting.

But, he promised to play along, for you. And he would, at his own terms. 

He pushed aside the thought entirely, instead returning to the task in front of him. Your tongue was pinned down when Lucifer was in your mouth, cock too fat to allow any room for movement. You abandoned trying to suck him off, and changed tactics to lick and kiss the sensitive flesh in your hands. 

Lucifer’s mind was—- he wasn't sure where exactly. His consciousness splintered around you. The feeling of you; your tongue was swirling around him, the first contact he’s had other than himself in literal years. The sound of you; your soft moans and huffs were both audible and physical, the hot breath ghosting over him. The sight of you; head in his lap as he leaned back, your ass in the air and making a satisfying slapping noise every time– 

Alastor. His eyes met Lucifer’s and a wicked grin took hold of his features. Lucifer could practically hear Alastor whisper across your body, ‘Watch this.’ Maybe Alastor had thought it, but he kept it to himself. 

Your hands began pumping Lucifer’s length while your body was slightly dragged away as Alastor backed up and let your knees find some solid ground again. 

Lucifer sat on his legs still, eyes flitting from between your face to the place you and Alastor connected. He could see Alastor disappearing inside you, and every intrusion had you gasping and mewling into the blankets. Your hand was still gently stroking him with outstretched arms, eyes clenched close.

Alastor smirked up at Lucifer, coming down over your back to reach around your body and find your clit with his middle finger. Immediately, you reacted. Legs squeezing together, hands stilling around your king’s cock. With a bite and lick to your shoulder blade, the radio demon set a bruising pace against you. That warmth in your core was spreading down as you felt him press against your cervix with every kiss of his hips. 

You choked out his name, a chant Lucifer had never wanted to hear before now. How could you make Alastor’s name sound so delicious? He wrapped his fingers around yours on his dick and began moving with you. Your eyes rolled up to him, a weak smile forming before your orgasm made your jaw lock. Alastor knew your body so well, bringing you to orgasm was like playing a well practiced song on the piano. Both required strong and fast fingers and a sense of rhythm. 

With a few more deeper, shorter moves Alastor stilled, too. Your knees slid down as your hips sank into the bed. 

Lucifer let your hand go limp, swallowing hard. He wasn’t ignorant to the way Alastor smiled at him as he reclined into the headboard, tucking himself back into his pants. 

“I have complete faith in you, for once.” Alastor teased Lucifer, hand motioning to your still limp body. His smile seemed to dare Lucifer, challenge him, to keep going even with Alastor’s release sitting pretty in you. 

Luci took a deep breath, steadying himself mentally, before pushing the hair from your forehead, “Hey there, kitten. What do ya need?”

With an uncharacteristic hunger in your eyes, you forced your line of sight up to him, “You, Luci.” Visibly shuddering, you sat up and brought your legs towards him, your knees touching each other in an odd display of shyness. Your hand felt at your entrance, Alastor’s seed just beginning to find its way from your relaxed walls. 

“Is it okay?” You asked, spreading the thick fluid between your fingers in front of Luci. 

Something between a grimace and a pout came over him, it wasn’t his ideal situation but the idea of — just how much he’d slip and slide between your folds with the added lubrication made him feel feral. He wasn’t stupid, he knew Alastor hoped to ruin you and sour his experience. He decided to not allow it. 

With a kiss to his nose, you wrapped your arms around his neck and lied back. You weren’t sure you were breathing anymore when you felt his scorching head slot up with your entrance. He rubbed the leaking fluid over himself and you with swipes up and down your lips. The difference between his heat and the cooled cum made him shiver in turn. 

As he began to press into you, your body instinctively scooted away. It took both of your hands hooked under his arms to stay still enough for him to make any real headway. 

Luci stopped, your face clearly pained. Your head shook in response, “Please, you just have to keep going. I’ll adjust.” While both of his heads swelled with pride – Alastor’s cock clearly smaller – Luci didn’t notice the wild eyes of the radio demon. 

Alastor brought a hand to his face, red eyes peering between his spread fingers, smile threatening to break at the seams as he watched Lucifer Morningstar fucking his cum into his darling doe. 

 What a pitiful sight. How humiliating.

What would Charlie think of her big bad daddy? What would the other sins say? If they could see their king now, slick and shiny?

Your nails cut into his skin, and you were sure you were tearing slightly. Instead of attempting to thrust his way in, he chose to just continually press. The way your body seemed to be splitting made you second guess your decisions. But when his head finally popped in, your hole got some reprieve. He stopped, taking deep breaths. 

Tears were collecting on your waterline, Luci noticed and leaned on an elbow to wipe them away. His blonde hair was falling forward now, tickling at your forehead. 

You nodded, answering a question he didn’t ask, and he continued to force your walls open to accommodate him. The only sound in the room was the soft instrumental jazz number playing from atop the dresser. Your voice was stuck in your throat, Luci was focusing too hard to form words. Alastor could speak, but the music was just too enjoyable to interrupt. 

Finally, after what could have been two minutes or twenty, you felt Luci bottom out. You had to just lie there for a second, never having felt something so solid in your otherwise soft body. No slight to Alastor, who was perfectly skilled in his abilities. Luci was just—- more than you had expected. 

As he pulled out, you thanked the heavens and hell and the rings within that Alastor had left you so wet and already softened. The first few thrusts were genuinely uncomfortable, the pleasure you felt almost entirely mental, drawn from the reality of who was pulling your insides back and forth. You were so tight around him that he too was almost pained; so much pressure but no way to move enough to get any release.

Slowly, the ring of your entrance relented and Luci could finally move at a normal pace. He would take himself out to his head before slipping back in. Every thrust made your body spread around him, a semi-truck through a field of sunflowers. Your body didn’t stand a chance, and you were grateful he chose gentleness for his entrance.

He leaned back on both hands, using the position to fucked up into you at an angle. He knew very well where to hit to begin gathering your pleasure.

Alastor dropped his head, yours between his legs. His hair made a short curtain, hiding the look he was giving you from Luci. He adores the faces you make when you are happy. Excited. Pleasured. You tried to offer him a smile, but you couldn’t manage it for long. Your eyes would wretch shut, lips tighten as you focused on the feeling Luci was providing. Focused on the sensations, of being so full, so wet, so wanted. But Alastor was still watching, the sight of Luci blocked from his view as he enjoyed every little twitch of your mouth, every whimper. 

It wasn’t jealousy, it was something more personal that stung Luci. While he couldn’t actually discern the looks you two gave each other, Luci felt very much the odd man out. But, he considered his position. Literally. He was leaning as far from your body as he could. He remembered the way you said Alastor’s name. Alastor had showed him exactly what to do, albeit in his usual obnoxious, showy fashion.

Sitting up, Luci adjusted your legs and slotted himself between them. Alastor leaned back, relinquishing your focus. Both of you looked at Luci though as one of his hands came to enclose your throat.

Alastor was almost impressed. Almost. You brought both hands to wrap around his wrist, glancing to Alastor behind you.

The words came out of Alastor as half warning, half instruction, “If she needs you to stop, she’ll tap two fingers twice on you, wherever she can reach.” Lucifer nodded, eyes not meeting Alastor’s. He kept them on your face, watching for any sign of distress as he tightened his grip. The way your pussy clenched around him earned you a hiss.

He began to move again, the new position causing him to rub against your clit as he buried himself in you. More clenching; He tightened his grip more. 

“Are you sure she isn’t hurting?” Luci asked, your eyes closed and nails digging into his wrists.

“Nonsense. Can’t you feel her? Or does she just grip me like that?” The cocky expression made Luci unconsciously clench his fist on your neck. A gentle tap tap snapped him back to you. He loosened up again, his eyes large and apologetic.

You tightened your own grip on his dick, grinding up into him for more friction. Your body had finally relaxed, pleasure freely flowing from where you and Luci tangled together. You closed your eyes, the pressure constant on the veins to your head. Blood flow restricted just enough to lower your oxygen levels and raise the nitrogen oxide in your body. It resulted in a dizzying feeling, maybe there was a primal panic that caused your body to feel heightened pleasure. You didn’t feel scared, or in danger. You felt —— ah there it was. You felt weak. You felt docile. You felt like you existed purely to give pleasure and the idea turned you on. In every day life you’d never allow someone to use you, to push you around. You were anything but subservient. That’s why it was so enthralling now. It was so strange a sensation. And to give yourself so fully to the king of hell, the originator of all sin? You groaned, head rolling back. 

Luci watched your head loll, drank in your groans and gasps and felt himself get dizzy too. More. Say his name like you did Alastor’s. Praise how well he fucked you. Reward him. Love him.

He pulled out suddenly, his head leaving you for the first time since it managed to fit in initially. Luci put both hands on your hips and directed you to roll onto your stomach. He pulled your ass up, knees bent. You crawled up enough to rest your forehead on the crook of Alastor’s leg, one lazily outstretched and the other bent under him slightly. Luci wasted no time pushing back in. He leaned over you and pressed his hand into your back, forcing your chest to be slightly crushed into the bed. He pulled out and slammed back into you, tearing a yelp from you as he hit deeper than he had before. 

He stopped, unsure, until he felt your hand reach under yourself and rest at the junction of his knee and calf. His other hand came to your right hip, and he used it to keep you from sliding up the bed. Letting his eyes close again, he focused on the feeling of you around him. His crotch and thighs were soaking wet, his balls tight against him. Every drag out of you made his body jerk back into you with need. It felt so good, too good. He needed more. He pressed hard into you, oversized tip of his cock threatening to push past your cervix. He made shorter thrusts now, ensuring he bottomed out every time. It was too deep, too much of a stretch. Your moans slowly devolved into screams, the pleasure mixed with a soft burning. 

You could feel him spreading open your womb. The feeling of your cunt pressing down on him from all sides including the front was driving him mad.

You were screaming. Actual, pleasured screams, threatening to alert the entire hotel to your activities. Screams that started shrill and dipped into a gutteral cry filled the room with every thrust of Lucifer’s frenzied hips.

A tiny part of your brain felt embarrassed, a dying animal shrieking into Alastor’s thigh.

An ever shrinking part of Lucifer existed too, the piece of him too preoccupied with your two fingers on his leg to enjoy you. It got smaller and smaller, no longer a blockade to his pleasure, but a safety net allowing him to walk the tightrope of sadism.

The radio’s volume dial rolled, smooth jazz now blaring and drowning out your painfully pleasured cries. Alastor was fine with allowing someone to take care of your needs at his permission but strangers had no business enjoying your sounds.

As Luci became lost in the sensation of your wet pussy trying to suck him in whole, his hand on your back began to press down. Your breaths got shorter, it got harder to expand your lungs fully.

Face turned and drooling onto the fabric of Alastor’s pants, you started gasping out his name, “Luci! Nngh Luciiii, Lucifer.”

Your lips dropped his name and it fell like lead into his thoughts. He fought the urge to close his eyes again as he felt his orgasm building. He watched your flushed skin jump beneath every punishing thrust, his name a spell you could now barely whisper, not enough breathe to scream. Your upper body was entirely buried into the mattress. It felt like your back might snap with Luci’s loss of control. You kept your hand on his leg, ever ready to tap out.

The yellow of his eyes turned red, just like the skin of your ass where his hip bones chaffed. “You take me so well, kitten.” He ground out, “Daddy’s gonna cum.”

Alastor’s eyes glowed a blood red from the end of the bed, a wickedly devious grin across his face at the opportunity before him, he looked up at Luci and said with a commanding tone, “Cum.”

Luci was already over that peak when his eyes flew up to catch Alastor’s, it was too late to stop his orgasm. He was helpless to disobey, despite his now desperate desire to never cum again. With a moan, and a hiss, he pressed your body fully into the mattress. Your body now flush, he waited until his cock stopped jerking his long overdue seed into your bruised womb.

Luci lied on top of you even after you were full to the brim with his cum. It was already forcing its way out around his softening cock when he managed to roll off of you and onto his back.

Staring at the canopy of the bed, he felt two emotions rise to the surface. First, concern. He turned to you, and you gave a weak thumbs up.

Second, rage.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Fuck you.” He looked to Alastor, who was grinning as he pet your head, whispering something to you. 

“Little late for dirty talk, your highness.”

Lucifer growled, but Alastor’s palm pressed against his forehead and pushed him back down to the bed.

“I sleep on the left. I’d prefer you on the right.” he gently moved your head from his lap, “Beside me, my dear. A darling barrier.” Alastor didn’t look at Lucifer, just slid off the bed and walked into the en-suite bathroom. “No outside clothes under the comforter.” Alastor called from the bathroom before the sound of rushing water poured in.

You rolled onto your back, still catching your breath. Body sprawled out on the massive bed like a starfish.

Lucifer turned onto his side, hand caressing your arm. “Are you okay, kitten? I didn’t mean to lose myself like that.” He felt shame, like he had done something terrible. “And— I didn’t help you finish. That’s pretty shitty.”

But it fell away when you smiled back at him, “I feel great. Sore, but great all the same.” You let your fingers clumsily lace with his. “I really like you, Luci. And I don’t need to cum to enjoy myself. You can always try again, ya know?”

Lucifer felt his face grow warm, but couldn’t press you to clarify what exactly that meant before Alastor scooped you up and carried you to the bath.

There was a moment where he was alone, noticing the radio was back to a tolerable volume, the water splashing softly out of view. He felt out of place, like he had accidentally walked into a stranger’s home. He wasn’t sure what to do next, where to go from there when Alastor’s head popped back into the room, annoyed, “Are you coming or not? Those are clean sheets.”

༻Masterlist༺

[bluebugjay]

A lot of people aren't vibing with Charles and Crystal's romance and honestly i think it's because it's not necessarily supposed to be a full-fledged, endgame romance.

I think it's written to be a fling.

Charles is a flirt; one of the first things he thinks about when Edwin tells him ghosts can't feel is that he would miss kissing, he says himself it's nice to be seen by someone his own age, he calls Crystal fit, etc. Assumably between cases he has a very small social circle of literally just Edwin so it makes sense that this girl who he gets on with and finds attractive immediately becomes a bit of a crush for him.

Then Crystal picks up on his flirting almost immediately, again they get on, etc. She says if he wasn't dead and she wasn't dealing with the aftermath of her toxic relationship with David he would be a good addition to her body count, i.e. just a fling. She doesn't say they'd date or she could fall for him just that they'd probably hook up.

Their first kiss happens when they're both dealing with some heavy stuff, Charles is angry, continuing to push down his trauma with his father and his past, Crystal is annoyed about not being any closer to getting her memories back whilst trying to deal with the trauma her last relationship caused her. They find comfort in each other in that moment. Crystal says she wants something real and the care they have for each other is real, there's no manipulation, no secrets. It's honest and it's innocent.

The song that plays in that scene is called Young Blood (White Sea Remix) by The Naked and Famous and has lyrics such as 'we're only young and naive still' and 'can't help myself but count the flaws, claw my way out of these walls, one temporary escape' and 'we lie beneath the stars at night, our hands gripping each other tight, you keep my secrets hope to die' - It does align with the idea that they're what each other wants in the moment, a distraction, to be able to pretend everything is normal and ok (keep each others secrets)

Crystal in the next episode, the next morning after their kiss, literally calls Charles a 'cute distraction' and says they should be friends. This time both of their issues and trauma are the reason for them not continuing the relationship. Blatantly, Crystal isn't ready for another relationship so soon after David, she wakes up with a nightmare about him and Charles. They bring up Charles fighting the Night Nurse and Charles says that he thought they were on the same page about it and 'at least that's how it seemed last night' which again leans into the fact they were both looking for comfort. Charles and Crystal kissing had nothing explicitly to do with her supporting his actions fighting the Night Nurse and yet that's how he took it because that's what he was searching for comfort from and acceptance on. Which is most likely why he seems to take the rejection harder than Crystal, seemingly agreeing to be friends more out of respect for her choice than the want to call it quits himself.

Charles tells Edwin later on about the kiss (right after Edwin is complaining about having to cancel plans with Monty) and says though he didn't physically feel it, he did feel it 'up here' and points to his head. The mind is generally not the place you feel love, I feel that's a given. (reminds me of the starfish on the beach that Niko says are in love, Edwin points out starfish have no brain and Niko says love doesn't require logic, meaning: love is not stored in the mind.) Charles and Edwin's conversation veers off to being about there own relationship, with Charles saying he wouldn't want to be dead with anyone else - not even the girl you just kissed? No? Ok.

The way that episode goes (The case of the two dead dragons) Crystal and Charles end up arguing about the very reasons they decided to not continue their relationship. Crystal likens Hunter and Brad to David, and Charles defends them saying not everyone is her demon ex-boyfriend which seems like he's projecting and really defending himself. Then Crystal calls him out on his 'rage problem' and what happened with the Night Nurse. So though they comforted each other the night before, their real feelings for each others issues are surfacing and they're not so on the same page. Of course they get over this and apologise soon enough. Though in the end, it's Edwin Charles opens up to and actually talks to about how he's feeling rather than pushing it aside and looking for a distraction. And after that, Charles gives Crystal genuine comfort not just a distraction by listening to her talk about her nightmares/visions about David. (immediately followed by the scene of Edwin and Monty on the swings in which Edwin suggests they don't see each other anymore, then back tracks, they kiss followed by rejection which definitely has... parallels)

After that, Crystal and Charles are still an obvious source of comfort for one another, they talk to each other about their stresses, they stick close together a lot of the time but there's nothing inherently romantic to their actions aside from the fact we know they have kissed which gives their actions a depth that, for example Edwin and Niko's don't, despite them also being affectionate and spending time together alone.

Then in the last episode as Crystal is attempting to leave for London, her and Charles share another kiss. When she tries to say bye to Charles, he says it feels like a 'good-bye good-bye' rather than a 'see you back in London good-bye' and Crystal doesn't correct him, essentially confirming it was supposed to be a forever goodbye. She instead kisses him. It's a good-bye kiss. A (supposed to be) final kiss. A 'we had a good run' type of kiss. Crystal kisses him because she thinks she'll never see him again. It's similar to the first in which the kiss itself is the beginning and end, and it doesn't mean much past that. It's a kiss as a secret again, like their first kiss. A kiss to fill the space left by things they don't want to talk about. She doesn't want to admit she's planning on leaving for good so she kisses him instead, it's a comfort and it's a distraction. (and its consistent)

When Crystal decides to stay in the end, Charles says it'll be great, then specifies that 'solving cases together' will be great, not anything else that could of implied. Which could either be them just being awkward, or a flip in their dynamic that now Crystal is the one more involved in their relationship and Charles is the one setting boundaries.

Overall I think they have a really interesting dynamic. They are exactly what each other needs in moments and then the opposite in the next, they care about each other so much yet are possibly the people that unearth each others insecurities and traumas the most. They're both looking for a new, different kind of relationship and find it within the other but inherently once the novelty fades they fall more into being friends than anything more. I think like most of the relationships in this show, they're supposed to be complicated, they're supposed to be more of a journey than a destination. They learn and grow from their interactions together and I think that's something really beautiful.

[redvexillum]

Here me out. Vox working on wiring some new monitors and getting tangled in the wires. His lovely little assistant finds her boss stuck, wires pulling his shirt a bit up and... well... Vox is pissy becasue he's being seen stuck but he needs help. And the more he tries to wiggle out of the wires, the tighter they get and oh my, does he like that?

🦊- just a random fox passing through, nothing to see here. Def Not Kit.

Dearest Kit or Def Not Kit, I've been going feral over Vox x Reader and I have no one to blame but you for making me fall deeper in love with the flat screen TV-head demon. Your request has been living rent free in my head since the day I saw your devilish prompt sitting sexily in my inbox. Kit or Def Not Kit. Do you see my request list on my front page? Do you see how long it is? I say this with utmost love and respect for you, but damn you for making me possessed and open my word document at 1 in the morning as the story gets longer and longer. XOXO, RedVexi 💋

SUMMARY: Your boss is a class-A hole, and you had envisioned tormenting him for all the overtime he was forcing you to work. Truly, he was ensuring that your time in Hell was...Hell. Perhaps it was you burning out, but you had a very vivid, steamy dream of your boss.

...At least, you were pretty sure it was a dream.

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, assistant!reader, dom/sub undertone, sub!Vox, dom!reader, hating your boss to confused h*rny, reader has vivid s*xual imagination, reader is extremely sleep deprived and is so done with Vox's shenanigans, Vox is sort-of a jerk, fluff if you squint

At first, the letters on your document seemed to shift ever so slightly, causing you to misread some of the words. You squinted, trying to focus on each letter, but it was no use. The words began to dance and twist, performing their own chaotic ballet at an infuriatingly quick tempo. Your head spun, the floor beneath you tilted slightly at an angle, and a sharp pain pierced behind your eyes.  

“Ah, fuck,” you muttered, pressing your hand against the middle of your throbbing forehead in a futile attempt to alleviate the discomfort. You took a deep, fortifying breath and reached for your energy drink, downing the sickly sweet liquid that had become your elixir of life. You had lost count after the tenth can, and the end of your workload seemed to grow every time you checked your to-do list.  

Everyone else had long since left the office, leaving you alone in the oppressive silence of mandatory overtime, working under the relentless demands of the most unreasonable, Hell-worthy, boss.  

The weight of exhaustion pressed down on you, the muscles in your back and neck ached, and your mind screamed for a moment of reprieve. The flickering fluorescent lights above cast a harsh glare on the endless sea of paperwork before you. Each page mocked your efforts, sadistically laughing at you to try to make sense of the cryptic mess of letters and numbers that the previous assistant had left behind.  

As you took another swig of the energy drink, the taste no longer registered, your tongue felt tingly yet numb. It was just a means to an end, a way to keep pushing forward despite the shroud of fatigue threatening to take away your sight.  

“Just a few more hours,” you whispered to yourself, a mantra of survival in the face of exhaustion. The words offered no comfort, but they were all you had now. Taking another deep breath, you picked up one of the many documents littered across your desk. One look and a wave of frustration crashed into you. What was the previous assistant even trying to achieve? 

Nothing made sense.  

Groaning, you leaned back in your chair, letting your head fall back as you squeezed your eyes shut. How many days had it been since you’d had a full night’s sleep? You’d thought being a personal assistant to the CEO of VoxTek – an Overlord of Hell – would pave your path with literal gold.  

Instead, you were wading through a relentless tide of paperwork, guzzling obscene amounts of energy drinks, and simmering in a pit of sexual frustration. Seriously, when was the last time you got laid? Every single one of your partners had left you, fed up with being forever second to your work.  

This morning, your girlfriend – ah, ex-girlfriend now – had screamed at you to choose between her and your job. Before you could respond, your Vwatch buzzed, reminding you it was time to pick up your boss’ dry cleaning.  

With an apologetic smile, you gave her a quick peck on the cheek and pleaded to postpone the conversation until after work. The last thing you heard before you closed the door was her muttering: “Go fuck yourself.” 

And…fuck yourself indeed because the moment you sat at your desk to slog through another hellish day of ungodly work hours, your phone vibrated with her text message. Her final text message telling you that she was leaving you.  

Sighing deeply, the weight of her words pressed down on you. It was a reminder that you were sacrificing everything for your job once again.  

Slowly, you opened your eyes, the fluorescent lights blinded you temporarily. You had died like this – overworked to death for a massive corporation when you were alive. Was this truly your fate, to repeat your human life in Hell?  

Could you find happiness even in this damned place? 

Your shoulders jolted up, and you scrambled to sit upright as you heard the loud crackle of electricity echoing inside the empty room. The demon responsible for your lack of sleep and failing relationships boldly strolled through your office the moment he materialized out from the security camera.  

The prick, a.k.a. your boss.  

“There you are!” Your boss, with all the glory of a cheap flat-screen TV for a head, loomed over you. With a click of his tongue, he narrowed his red digital eyes. “I asked you to bring me the reports thirty seconds ago!” he pointed at your Vwatch, the manacle chaining you to the company, to him.  

You felt your left eye twitch once, twice.  

Thirty fucking seconds.  

Was this for real? Was he seriously pissed off because you didn’t run to his fucking safety hazard of an office within thirty seconds?  

The rage simmered beneath your exhaustion, a boiling, whistling kettle ready to blow its top. The audacity of this bitch-ass baby, to demand so much for so little recognition. Every muscle in your body begged for rest, for a break from the relentless grind that had followed you from the mortal world to damnation.  

Lord, you hated him. Never mind that he could have picked up the fucking report himself.  He literally had the power to teleport anywhere in the building through the security cameras, which were everywhere.  

A sudden, intrusive thought barged its way through your mind. This was your moment. Your moment to finally release the manacle that had been wrapped around your right wrist for the past nine and a half years. A moment to throw this cheaply made watch at his equally tacky flat-screened face.  

Your left fingers twitched, but you remained still, sitting in the chair with your head bowed.  

Were you being too rash?  

Yes. You were.  

You weren’t thinking clearly, overworked and burnt out as you were. 

You couldn't quit even if you wanted to...at least not right now.

The muscles in your eyes continued to twitch as your ears slowly honed in on the sound of Vox throwing a bitch-fit, comparing you to his last assistant, who was “so” much better. He made sure to stress the word “so,” emphasizing your supposed lack of drive, productivity, and quality of work.  

You weren’t really listening to his words. His voice melded seamlessly with the whirring of the computer fans, a droning background noise to your mounting frustration. Each of his cutting remarks sliced through the restraint that held your volatile anger at bay.  

Vox could leave now that he had his report, but he chose to belittle you instead. Your gaze flickered to your wrist, to the cursed device that had dictated the course of your life. You were sure that if you threw this watch at his face, the look of shock glitching across the screen would be quite hilarious.  

“Are you even listening?” he snapped, his voice pulling you back from the haze of your addicting, intrusive thoughts.  

Your eyes flicked back up, meeting the static-filled screen that served as his face. “Yes, sir,” you lied, your voice steady despite the turmoil within.  

“God, I’m surrounded by imbeciles, you and Val–” Vox continued to rant out into the vast empty office that only housed the two of you.  

Couldn’t he see that everyone else had already left? Couldn’t he appreciate that you were still working after hours every single day for almost a fucking decade just to meet his unreasonable expectations? 

Jaws clenching, you continued to hold back your frustration and ire by the skin of your teeth. Couldn’t he just let you catch a single break? For fuck’s sake, you had just gone through a breakup because, once again, you had chosen work – chosen him – instead of your girlfriend, instead of your happiness.  

The desire to pull on his gaudy red bow tie tight, making sure he felt the constriction around his throat, was overwhelming. You imagined pushing him onto your desk, straddling him. You would make sure to crinkle all his precious reports for good measure too.  

Your gaze landed on the way the light reflected off the flat screen of his face. You would smack him, open-handed, just like you used to do with your grandpa’s old television when it fritzed out.  

You remembered your grandpa’s words: You only need one good smack to get it working right again, dear.  

Maybe all Vox needed was that one good smack to be fucking humble for once. Then your eyes dropped to the front of his pants. He was such a massive dick, probably compensating for the size of his package.  

How you wanted to strangle his limp, tiny dick, to see him helpless and subdued. Maybe you could wrap his dick with the goddamn cables you always tripped over whenever you visit his office.  

A smirk lifted your lips as you envisioned the scene. Vox, strung up by his pathetic, limp dick, his eyes wide with fear and humiliation. He would cry and whine, begging you to stop, but you wouldn’t. After all, this had been a long time coming, a deserved retribution for all the bullshit and verbal abuse he had hurled your way.  

“— and don’t get me started on the fact that you look like a hot mess! Don’t you know that VoxTek has an image to uphold–” 

You imagined forcing him to fold over your desk. You’d make him take his cock into his mouth, the humiliating act of self-servitude making him gag. With one hand, you’d grip the edge of his head, shoving his face down further, and with the other, you’d ram a thick, fat dildo into his tight, unused ass.  

His pathetic whimpers would be muffled by the growing hardness in his mouth, a pitiful noise that only drove your desire to dominate him completely.  

You’d thrust into him relentlessly, the dildo filling him over and over. The tight ring of his ass would pucker up, trying to grip the dildo, to keep it shoved up all the way in his ass. Each thrust would be a punishment, a reminder of every insult and degrading comment he had thrown at you.  

“All I’m saying is, I expect better from you–” 

You would fuck him hard and fast with the toy, spurred on by his moans he would desperately want to hold back.  

Vox let out a sardonic laugh. “Then again, maybe that’s asking too much, expecting something incredibly simple from you–” 

You would thrust into him, again.  

“You had one job, and you can’t even–” 

Again.  

“Are you even trying–” 

And again, until you forced him to swallow his own pathetic release. The thought was intoxicating, having Vox submit completely to you. You could see it vividly: his face contorting with a mix of pain and unexpected pleasure. His eyes would squeeze shut, trying to stop the tears forming in his eyes. 

“Sorry, sir,” you blurted out, feeling the heat creeping up to your cheeks and below your gut. Holy shit, were you seriously just thinking of all that? Were you fantasizing about… 

Your boss. 

Your fucking boss.

Shit.  

You were more exhausted than you thought. Clearly, you were horny, tired, and caffeinated to the point of insanity to even entertain the idea of touching your fucking boss.  

Fuck, you desperately needed rest.  

Vox paused, his eyes widened giving you a glimpse of a myriad of emotions you couldn't recognize except one: vulnerability. But that didn't make sense because you meant so little to him – he gave two shits about you.

Before you could scrutinize further, he cleared his throat drawing you away from your circling thoughts. “Yes, well, I expect you to get the reports for the new project organized before tomorrow morning.” 

This time, it was your turn for your eyes to widen. “B-but, sir, th-that's going to take me all night!” You couldn’t stop the whine from spilling out.

His expression remained impassive, the flat screen of his face reflecting your frustration and fatigue back at you. “And?” he said, his tone cold and merciless. “That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?” 

The weight of his words doused your initial flare of anger and was now replaced with perpetual exhaustion. Your body screamed for rest, for a break from this endless cycle of work. But as you looked at Vox, you knew there was no escape, at least not tonight.  

You would push through, as you always did, because, like an idiot you had signed a contract with him to work for Voxtek for the next ten years. You couldn't afford to break that contract, as it would be an automatic forfeiture of your soul.

Curling your fingers into a tight fists, you repeated the same words that acted as your only saving grace for the past two years. You counted down the time before you could finally be freed.

Six more months.

Six more months of working under your shitty boss until you could quit and never look back.

The thought of freedom was a fragile hope, barely enough to sustain you through the grinding monotony and constant humiliation. The tension in your body slowly eased as your fists unfurled, letting your hands hang limply by your sides.

Swallowing the bitter taste of frustration, you forced yourself to nod. "Yes, sir, I'll get it–"

Vox walked away before you could finish your sentence, disappearing with a flash of electricity through his security camera.  

Sighing, you looked at the pile of papers haphazardly covering your desk. The faint hum of the overhead lights and the whirring of computer fans were your only companions. You rubbed your temples, feeling the tension in your head intensify.  

You picked up a stack of papers, and your eyes caught sight of your cell phone peeking out from the mound of documents.  

It looked like you had another long night ahead of you.  

Not that it mattered.  

You had no one to come home to anyway.  

NEXT ->

💠 MASTERLIST 💠 © Fanart of Vox by@glitterypeachy

[lovetei]

Wassup my children I came back with the(ir) milk :b

--------------------------------------------------

MC and their boy toys or the characters with a toxic MC

Warnings: Wrong use of car, smut, wrong grammar, wrong spellings, overstimulation, orgasm denial, semi-public, the reader is Implied to have a strap or a disco stick but not specified, bottom characters, not choking but air deprivation

Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters

Links: Masterlist

--------------------------------------------------

LUCIFER

He is one of the most regal personalities in the whole of Hell

So thinking that he would be submissive, to a human at worst, will not even cross a normal demons mind

But that does not stop him from falling into your alluring spell now

Being ready to please and even walk on all fours just for his favorite human behind closed doors

You slammed the door open and when Lucifer heard that familiar entrance he just can't help but stand up from his seat out of instinct "I-Is there something wrong..?" He stuttered out, getting too excited knowing what will come next.

You wasted no time, closing and locking the door immidiately and making your way into his desk. Carrying him and slamming him into his own desk before you buried your tongue down his throat.

You ripped his shirt open and exposed his neck before you buried your teeth in it, leaving the beautiful marks he will treasure every morning in front of the mirror.

"M-My love... Please answer my question-" He begged just to got quite down when your hands gripped his cheeks "Shut the fuck up now, since when did I let you talk without permission?" He gulped at your response, a twisted feeling of lust rising up his stomach.

MAMMON

People knows how much Mammon treasures his previous cars

Not even letting his brothers use it and only driving it when going into casinos saying that it brings him luck when he do so

But that's not what MC knows when he made Mammon drive that car in a hidden spot inside a forest almost every night.

"S-SHIT SHIT SHIT FUCKK FUCK B-BABY PLEASE!~" His moans grew louder and louder as your pace went faster and faster, moving yourself up and down his already bruised hips.

"W-Wait pl-ease!~" With that final phrase his hips bucked up meeting yours with his third release for the night.

"NOoO PLEaSE, STOP STOP STop stop!" He continued to beg as his sobbed interrupted with his speech after he noticed that you're still not stopping.

LEVIATHAN

He locks himself up for three reason, that's what he tell everyone and he refuses to elaborate

But what the people know is that one of the reasons is that he doesn't like to socialize

Another reason is because of his obsession with his anime and games

But the third reason remained unknown for everyone else except for you and Levi

"N-NO I-I'M NOT IGNoriNG YoU MASTER!" His speech slurred as his legs that is placed on your shoulders shook violently as you repeatedly abused his hole with that new toy you got.

He knows his begging is not working when he felt the vibration get more stronger "AH HAH FUCK FUCK fUcK PLeaSE!" drool seeped out the side of his lips as he tried to refrain his hips from pushing the toy deeper.

"I C-CAME! MANY! MANY!" He repeated over and over again as his brain started to shut down out of all the stimulation he have been feeling since earlier.

SATAN

Satan loves the library like it's his own child

He likes the smell of old books

And the quietness inside

Of course, he loves the activities you do inside of it too.

You removed your lips off of his cock making a lewd pop sound before saying "Keep your mouth shut." as you smirked while looking at the poor blonde who's legs are on your shoulders and his hand covering his mouth so obediently.

His eyes are starting to cross as he nod his head obediently. You took him in back to your mouth making him arch his back "N-NoOo! Cum-CumMING!" with that his hips bucked forward, pushing himself deeper down your throat.

You looked up at him as you swallowed his load "Hah! HAH! U-Ugh F-FUck!" He won't stop panting as he gripped the shelves behind him as if his life depends on it before his tears went down "T-Too much!"

ASMODEUS

People always wondered why the social butterfly Asmo started renting private rooms in the club when he's with MC

Maybe

If they turned their music down a little

And stick their head on the door of the private room, they will now.

"A-AH! So GOooOD!" His voice cracked as you ride his cock, even faster than before right after he came.

How many rounds has it been? Three, five? He doesn't remember anymore. All he remembers is that you bent him up and started riding him like the complete slut he is for you.

His loud moans that matches the rhythm of your pace is such a beautiful melody "T-TreAT Me SH-SHOooO goOod!" His speech slurred as his hips moved upwards because of another orgasm.

BEELZEBUB

Beel I known for the emotionless expression he wears everytime

But this class is different

He seemed disturb and hot? Looks like he's bothered...

You made Beel sit in the back with you for two reason, one is because you already know the lesson and two because you wanted to see how long he can keep that expression while you're jerking him off under the table.

"U-Uh..." Is all he can muster up as his legs shook after all the orgasm denial you gave him, you can't let him stain the table with cum now can you?

Right when he started twitching, you moved your hands up and down even faster and stopped it right on the edge again but surprisingly he grabbed your hand and refused to let your hand off his dick.

Guiding your hand to continue moving.

BELPHEGOR

They thought you simply forgive Belphegor for the crime he did

For killing you

But what they didn't know is that you're making him experience it too.

You grabbed him by the hair and lifted his head up from getting buried in a pillow "H-HWAH!" He panted, finally breathing the air you deprived him off earlier.

Right after he started panting, wails and cries escaped him as you pound his ass "S-SHIT! MC!" He managed to scream between sobbs as he felt how his ass is already bruising from how long you've been fucking him.

"I-I'm SO SORry!" His back arched as he shoot another load, adding to the puddle of cum bellow him and yet you never stopped "PLeaSe S-Low DOWN ATleAst!" He wailed before you pushed his head back to the pillow.

--------------------------------------------------

[javierssidechick]

From Ashes to Warmth

Anonymous request : Looove your fics! Craving a HEAVY angst to comfort fic w Arthur x F! gf!!

At your service ma'am 🫡

Word Count: 1,476 words

Summary: Arthur Morgan has always been a man haunted by the choices he's made. But when the weight of his regrets becomes unbearable, he pushes away the one person who loves him most—his girlfriend. In the aftermath of their fight, Arthur must decide if he can let go of his demons long enough to find comfort in her arms again.

Warnings: Heavy angst, self-loathing, brief description of violence, emotional hurt/comfort, mentions of death and guilt, soft language, comfort.

Arthur stared out into the wilderness, his jaw clenched as the wind swept through the camp. The fire crackled behind him, its warmth distant, like a memory he couldn't quite hold onto. It had been days since he'd spoken more than a few words to anyone, and even longer since he'd let himself relax. You were always near him, trying, hoping that maybe this time he'd let you in.

But Arthur was stubborn. Too stubborn, too proud, and far too weighed down by guilt. You could see it in his eyes, the way they never quite met yours anymore. He had been slipping away from you, inch by inch, word by word.

Tonight was no different.

"Arthur..." Your voice was soft as you approached, hesitant, the chill of the night biting through your clothes. "Talk to me. Please."

He didn't turn to look at you. His broad shoulders were tense, a wall between you and the pain he refused to share. His silence was as heavy as the air around you.

"Arthur," you tried again, stepping closer, feeling the heat of the fire on your back but nothing from him. "You can't keep doing this. Shutting me out, pretending like you're fine. I'm here. I want to help you."

"Don't need help." His voice was gravelly, strained, and for a moment, it sounded as though he was speaking to himself more than you. "Ain't nothing that can fix this."

Your heart twisted at his words. "You don't have to do it alone."

His jaw tightened, his eyes still fixed on the horizon, the dark woods stretching out like a prison. "You don't get it," he growled, finally turning to face you, his blue eyes shadowed with pain. "I ain't worth saving. Every time I try to do right, all I do is make it worse. People die because of me. Good people."

You took a step closer, reaching out, but he pulled back, the distance between you growing, not just physically, but emotionally.

"I'm no good for you," Arthur muttered, shaking his head. "Best you get away from me 'fore I drag you down too."

It felt like a punch to the gut. "Arthur," your voice cracked, but you held your ground, "you don’t get to decide that for me. You think I don’t know what kind of life you lead? What kind of man you are?"

"Yeah, well, you should." He stepped closer, anger and frustration flashing in his eyes. "You should run, 'cause one day I'll get you killed, just like everyone else."

"I’m not running." Your voice was firm now, standing your ground despite the pain swirling between you two. "I know who you are, Arthur Morgan. And I’m still here. I’m still standing right in front of you because I love you, despite your demons."

His lips parted, surprise flickering across his face, but it was quickly masked by the storm of guilt. "You shouldn’t." His voice cracked, softer now. "You shouldn’t love someone like me."

Tears welled in your eyes, and you fought to keep them at bay. "But I do."

There was a long, tense silence. The only sound between you was the crackling of the fire and the distant howl of the wind. Arthur's shoulders sagged, and for a moment, he looked as though he might collapse under the weight of his own self-loathing.

You closed the gap between you, gently taking his hand in yours. His rough fingers twitched in your grasp, but he didn’t pull away this time.

"You’re not perfect, Arthur," you whispered, squeezing his hand. "But no one is. You don’t have to be perfect to deserve love. I know you've done things you regret. I know the world weighs heavy on you. But you're more than your sins."

Arthur swallowed hard, his eyes dropping to the ground, his hand trembling slightly in yours. For the first time in a long while, he didn’t have anything to say. The fight drained out of him, replaced by something far more fragile.

He let out a shaky breath, the tension in his body slowly melting as you stepped even closer, resting your forehead against his chest. "Let me in," you whispered. "Let me be here for you."

He didn’t respond right away, his breathing uneven, but then his arms wrapped around you. Hesitant at first, but then tighter, as though he was afraid you might slip away. His chin rested atop your head, and you felt the roughness of his beard against your hair.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm so damn sorry."

You shook your head against his chest. "You don't have to apologize. Just let me love you, Arthur."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Arthur Morgan let himself fall. Not into the endless abyss of regret, but into your arms, where the warmth of your embrace slowly began to thaw the ice that had long settled around his heart.

And for a brief moment, under the stars and the crackling fire, Arthur allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, he was worthy of the love you so freely gave.

[opiopal]

I need to ramble a little about this,

about how solmare makes mc in canon pisses me off sometimes. like how easily they can just let themself be cruel and mean to the brothers and other characters. I can't be the only one who gets BAFFLED seeing the options of either be mean or be meaner when it comes to chats or lessons.

and I dont mean "boo hoo i cant take a joke:(((", I mean the fact that Mc constantly joins in on teasing other characters. like, ik mc doesnt have to be a sweet mary sue all the time, and they can have personality, but the whole "we love mc because they are kind ad caring" thing falls apart when we as the players aren't able to let Mc BE KING AND CARING.

the thing it: I got HYPED when I saw we could slap lucifer after he saves us from his damn dog for the first time, because that fucker NEEDED to be hit after all the shit he did. HOWEVER. when there are options to drag down asmo, or mammon, or levi, or ANY of the brothers for NO reason at all and it sucks, they could be minding their own business and all of a sudden mc is given the choice to be like "haha mammon you really are a scum bag" or "asmo I dont like you and you aren't attractive at all."

also, mc isn't even given the option to flirt back with or be romantic with the brothers as often as lucifer. I wouldn't be surprised if lucifer was randomly like "remember when we got married mc" when the player is actively dating literally ANYONE else than him. like seriously, I'll be pushing so hard to have a single flirty message with mammon, and lucifer over here is randomly alluding to mc and him doing the devils tango for 5 hours straight in the library out of the blue.

I personally get frustrated because in game mc is so different to my own mc, which obviously it will be hard to have everyones mc be accommodated and I am aware of that, but can't we have more dialogue diversity when it comes to mc? as in like, a max of four different things. be sassy, be nice, be a little mean, be timid, that kind of stuff. I have it so then my mc doesn't have a single mean bone in their body. they are in anyone and everyones corner. they are 100% someone you could go to for support! someone who is kind and patient!! HOWEVER. they will still call people out, just because she cares about someone does not mean she'll lie to them and tell them the bad thing they did was right. truly caring for someone means being honest with them no matter if the truth hurts or not. so sometimes I do actually appreciate the chance to be a little straight forwards and a bit brutally honest at times! but I still want the chance to tell the brothers to stop picking on mammon, or to tell lucifer to leave belphie alone and that he can't help but be tired, or to tell anyone at all to stop picking on luke, or literally ANYTHING that doesn't lead to a character being targeted by another person they love/care for.

YES. they are demons. they are clearly used to being nasty and mean. and yes they are BROTHERS, and siblings are nasty to each other(trust me, I know. I'm the second youngest of four. I get it.). but that doesn't mean they should have to handle arguments and belittlement from the only people who understand who they are as a person.

idk, it just angers me to think about Mc easily being able to hurt the brothers emotionally and physically just because they felt like it.

[hype-blue-fixation]

RadioStatic Week Day 3 - Jealous/Posessive - "Your Laugh is Mine" (SFW ticklefic)

All day he'd kept his claws off the Radio Demon and let him go about his daily business. Forced to watch as the object of his obsession talked to other people. Conducted business with them, made small talk, cracked jokes. He hated how they made him laugh and smile. How those people gave him what he wanted. Vox knew he could do better.

And it was worst with the ladies. Alastor was far too kind to them. To the point it made Vox sick. The only time he even felt the smallest pang of guilt over these emotions is when the lady was Rosie. He respected the deep connection the two shared. But if it be anyone else, jealousy was sure to run rampant.

As the day went on, Vox became more fidgety. His body itchy. Everything in him wanted that furry deer back home and in his arms. Evening felt like it couldn't come soon enough. He was already daydreaming of all the things he wanted to do, making the wait all the more agonizing.

“I'm back!” the door clicked open and in came Alastor. Vox was already there, offering to takr his jacket and even unlace his shoes. Dinner was ready. Jazz music played on the radio. Whatever the deer wanted was only a whim away. “I think you love me too much.” Alastor cooed as he was lead to the dinner table.

“Nope. I love you just enough.” Vox held out a cooked human hand, humming in adoration as Alastor leaned forward to nibble each finger off. A playful look coming to his face.

“You love me so much you're even hand-feeding me!”

Vox snorted at the double meaning. Such a charming sense of humor. “Speaking of loving you so much…” his voice trailed off as he lost himself in Alastor's eyes. A small nibble at his own fingers shook him out of the daze with a frightened shout. As much as he loved the other, he was still a beast to be reckoned with. A unique, dangerous, and downright gorgeous beast.

The TV headed man offered more food. Smiling as it was gingerly eaten away. “I couldn't help but watch how you interacted with everyone today. They gave you what you wanted. Satisfied you. Made you smile. Laugh.”

“Mhm. What's your point?” Alastor smacked his lips, signaling he was done with dinner. Vox wiped the blood from his mouth, losing himself in those eyes again. They were always so expressive, and right now they were full of love and interest. Wondering what fantasies had been running through that dumb box head.

They went to bed, Alastor the first to settle down and get comfortable. Vox was right at his side. Wasting no time in getting his claws on that furry belly. Scratching at it and digging in possessively. “This soft little thing? It's mine.” His voice was strong. Not accepting any sort of argument. Whatever Alastor tried to say was silenced at the feeling of a tummy kiss.

Warmth focused on the mouth area of Vox’s screen as he planted kisses at the waist line. He gently pushed up Alastor's shirt as he trailed kisses up to his belly button. Then a blue tongue projected out of his screen to draw buzzy lines around the sensitive spot.

“Vox, darling. You don't have to–”

“I want to.” A firm grip came on his sides as warm kisses and electronic licks graced that fuzzy deer belly. Alastor couldn't help but fluster at the tender care. One hand rested on the back of Vox’s head while the other came up to his mouth to hide the noise that wanted to come out. A task that became harder when the hands on his sides began lightly scratching the soft body.

Alastor was now biting into his hand. Desperate attempts to hold back noise. Vox was quick to tug it away. “I want to hear you. Are you really going to let all those other people hear your beautiful voice and laughter all day then keep it hidden from me?”

“I suppose that is unfair of me, hmm?”

“It's criminal.” Vox blew a strange, vibrating form of a raspberry square on that belly button. Tickling his claws into the sensitive sides. A loud laugh echoed in response. “See, I bet that felt good, right?”

“It does feel good to let loose and laugh.”

“Good! Because all those laughs are mine, you hear? Every sound you make tonight will be mine.” Vox stared directly into Alastor's eyes as his claws scribbled around the belly button. Small giggles ensued. “Every little whine, laugh, breath, wheeze, beg, and whatever comes in-between is mine.”

“No it's not!” Alastor playfully teased.

The claw dipped into the center of that tummy with a small electric shock. That seemed to bring the radio demon back into his place with a storm of uncontrollable laughter.

“Yes. It. Is.”

[still-a-morosexual-help]

Can I just say that I love Satan and MC's relationship? I'll read fics (romantic or platonic) and just sit there. "Huh."

Yes! Yes! Yes! They have such an underated friendship and they're probably the most similar to each other in the family?

• They're the two newest members in the family

• Neither of them were accepted by the others in the beginning and there was a lot of friction between them and the others

• Neither of them were present in the Celestial Realm with the others and didn't live through two wars with the others

• Neither of them really knew Lilith even though she's an important part of their family

• Both of them only witnessed the past through the eyes of another (MC through Lilith and Satan through Lucifer)

• They're the only two in the family who are more or less related by blood to someone else within the family (Satan to Lucifer and MC to Lilith)

• Physically they're both pretty unique. As far as we know Satan is the only demon created from the anger of an angel. MC is blood related to someone who had the soul of an angel

• They can both be mistaken for "the normal ones" within the family but truthfully they're both just as chaotic as everyone else and are just better at hiding it

• They both like cats and reading

• They both initially had a pretty bad relationship with Lucifer and now though that relationship is better they still like getting on his nerves

• They're both social and have a lot of friends

• They're both good at cooking

• They're both hardworking and responsible when they want to be

• They both look out for the others

• They're both softer with Luke than they are normally with other people

• They're both pretty calm but when pushed to the limit they have an explosive temper - though obviously it takes a lot more to reach MC's limit and a lot less to cool them down

• They both found their perfect place within the family dynamic to the point that you can no longer imagine what it would be like without them

What I'm trying to say is they have a lot of similarities and the biggest one is being the newest members. Imagine how hard it is to be tossed into a tight knit group without your consent and to be expected to just fit in with no issues, specially when it's clear that, at least initially, the others don't want you there? Plus the fact that neither of them went through the same trauma as the others which would have helped the others bond or had to deal with the grief of losing Lilith. It would have been hard having to deal with that on your own, specially with the feeling like you're an outsided who didn't fit in, and didn't deserve to fit in because you didn't live through the same problems as the others. I imagine because of that Satan and MC would have had a lot to bond about and a lot of reason to seek each other out and lean on each other and take comfort from each other.

And we do get to see this in canon as well.

We see in S2 how supportive Satan is of MC and how much he goes out of his way to help them.

We see in S3 how much he trusts them and relies on them. How they silently sit next to each other and hold hands when Satan is upset. How he looks to them for confirmation that he isn't just Lucifer's clone, even after Lucifer himself already said he wasn't.

Also, I might be remembering this wrong, but I'm pretty sure Satan's the only one who apologised to MC for trying to kill them in S1?

We see in Nightbringer how Satan is even more isolated and out of place after only being truly alive for one year. And how much he values MC's opinion and abilities. I could actually write a whole essay on how Satan in Nightbringer seems to look up to MC - (unknowing to him, because they have experience) they seem to fit in with the others in a way that he can't, despite being newer than him, but also in a take charge + competent way that he can respect. MC's attitude probably seems like an ideal to him that he should be able to achieve. They also know how to treat him in a way that makes him feel seen and respected - they don't talk down to him or walk on eggshells around him.* So when they compliment him he takes it more to heart than when the others do and gets flustered and blushes. Their dynamic in Nightbringer really reminds me of a younger kid with a crush on their cool upper-classman.

* I worked with this kid with anger management issues who was refusing to cooperate or work with any of the others and how MC's interacting with Satan in Nightbringer is a great example of what should be done. They listen to him and take him seriously and talk naturally to him instead of talking like they're constantly trying to placate or baby him. They offer him suggestions and alternate perspectives on how to get the cat to approach him, an activity that would make him want to keep his anger under control because he'd need to be gentle to interact with the cat. All of this is something Simeon and even Luke does with Satan too.

Edit:

This is giving such sibling energy - like a little sibling (younger than 10) with an older sibling (at least late teenage years) wanting to do something new and failing and geting advice from their older sibling and being so proud of learning how to do it and wanting to impress their older sibling so they excitedly share it

Also it's killing me that in Nightbringer MC is technically older than Satan

[neiveel3llson]

Lost Loves

Reunited in Hell.

You didn't expect to end up in Hell. It's something that just never occurred to you, that despite your praying, begging for forgiveness, youd still end up rotting with everyone else. You'd helped your husband in his murders, you'd still help him, have he not been shot.

You wandered curiously through Hell, looking at a porn store, an already mugged store and weapons store that crossed your way while you walked through the streets like it were normal. There was chaos all around you, it felt like every two seconds someone's head was lobbed off in a gruesome way. You continued to walk through the crimson streets of Hell before something caught your eye, a small group of sinners all huddled up around a smaller store, or what looked like a store.

Your curiosity got the best of you, dragging you into the front of the small group, murmuring apologies or simply pushing past those who chose to ignore you. It was a radio, a modern looking one at that, similar to one you had in your own home, which you'd always listen to your husbands radio show on. Then something struck you, the radio wasn't the only familiar thing about this scene. The voice, the grating, static-filled voice. Youd recognise it anywhere. Alastor..

You listened in intently, rudely sushing any murmur or whisper among the crowd you'd trudged your way into. You smiled manically upon just listening to his voice for more than two minutes. Frantically, you grasped onto the shoulders of the hell-goer closes to you, a gatsby woman. She was short and pudgy, but undeniably pretty.

"Where does he live?" You asked with the most amount of kindness you could muster, despite your excitement.

"The radio demon? He's residin' at his radio hut, why?" The woman asked, hands on her hips. You bit a scowl at hearing the woman refer to your deceased husband as a demon, but you kept your composure.

"Take me there!" You said breathlessly with a grin, gripping the short woman's shoulders harshly, making her shrug them off.

"And what's in it fa' me?" She asks, looking at you from the side of her eye, tilting her head slightly with a bored look on her face.

"I'll put in a good word for you." The first offer, and undeniably the best. A cocky grin came to her face as she took you hand, shaking it slowly, beginning to drag you down the street. You saw a small lodge at the end of the street, decrepit but sturdy. Minimalistic. It came closer with every long stride, making you grin. You were so close to seeing your husband again, a mere stride away.

You missed the next few seconds of your life- well, death, only truly in your own mind again when you were face-to-face with your husband, his hands gripping your arms tightly. He was scared of leaving you, again. You looked into his newly red eyes, his paler skin, his red hair, everything about him. Even his new features. His deer ones, fitting.

"I've missed you, love.." You murmured breathlessly, a small, teary smile on your face. The small woman had gone, leaving nothing in her wake. It was just you and your husband, the hotel was silent, apart from your small sniffles and the static coming from your husband. Your husband.

"Oh my darling.. I never meant to leave you.." He cooes with a large grin on his face, bearing his sharp, yellow teeth.

Both of you leaned into one another, soft bleating coming from Alastor's throat as your lips connected for what felt like the first time in a millenia.

You held his hand in yours desperately, feeling a cold metal on your finger. His wedding ring, he never took it off. It didn't fit his aesthetic, the silver contrasting his outside drastically, but he'd kept it on.

"You kept it on.." You murmured against his lips happily, feeling him cup your face.

"I was waiting for you, darling.." He cooed yet again, leaning down with a large grin but, it was comforting. Soft.

"I love you.." A chorus of two voices, filled with a heavenly love and devotion to one another, pure love.

This belongs to @nieveel not you

[misc-obeyme]

Flufftober you say?? Barbatos is untaken you say??? Can I request MC taking care of him? The entirety of my mental, physical, and spiritual needs can be fulfilled by thinking of pampering the butler. Bonus points for him being kinda awkward and not knowing how to deal with it but very much liking it.

Helloooo!!

AH yes I loved this request so much lol. I am the exact same way, I want to take CARE of that BUTLER.

This one ended up a little longer than it should've because I am a fan of this scenario and got carried away. I can't help it, Barb needs to be pampered more.

Thank you for submitting a prompt!

FLUFFTOBER 2023

GN!MC x Barbatos

Warnings: none!

There weren't often days when Barbatos felt tired. He was reliably capable, always on top of everything that needed his attention. He kept things running smoothly, maintaining the Demon Lord's Castle, taking care of Diavolo, and ensuring that the work that needed to be done was completed.

Barbatos did it all day in and day out, never once showing his fatigue, never once faltering. Whenever Lord Diavolo needed him, he was there. Whenever any of his friends needed him, he was prepared. Barbatos was ready to step in at any time, for any reason.

And then there was you. How could a human like yourself see through so much of his mask? The knowing looks you sometimes cast his way let him know that you were aware of how much he worked.

Most of the time, Barbatos was able to redirect you any time you suggested he should take a break. You sometimes offered to do things for him and he would sometimes agree, letting you take care of minor things. It was a tactic to distract you, a way to let you feel like you were helping without giving you too much to do.

So when you arrived unannounced at the castle one evening, Barbatos was prepared to give you some menial task, something that needed doing, but that would essentially keep you out of his way.

You shocked him by calling him out on it.

"Not tonight," you said, arms folded, watching his face. "I'm not going to let you distract me this time. Did you think I didn't notice how you looked at RAD today? If you were anyone else, you would've been falling asleep in your seat."

Barbatos blushed and closed his eyes. "Forgive me, MC-"

"Don't even start with that," you said. "It's okay to be tired, you know. But you've been pushing yourself too hard lately. And I know exactly what you need."

Barbatos opened his eyes again, but his frown deepened. "What did you have in mind?"

You took his hands and smiled. Barbatos felt his heart flutter at the look in your eyes. Even though he was a little apprehensive about where this was going, he allowed you to lead him to his own room. He was a little surprised that you seemed to know exactly where it was. When had the castle become so familiar to you?

"Just wait here," you said, pushing him down gently so he was sitting on the edge of his bed.

You hurried away as Barbatos folded his hands in his lap. He kept his gaze on the large window, watching the treetops swaying in a gentle breeze while he waited for you.

Barbatos thought about how you knew the exact route to his room. Had you truly been here enough times to know its location so easily? Memories of your presence in the castle flooded his mind. You did come here frequently. Often enough that he couldn't quite pinpoint when you had become so familiar - not just with the castle, but with him, too. Enough to know when he was truly tired, a state he did his utmost to hide from everyone.

When you returned, you had Little D No 2 with you, following along at your heels. Even the Little Ds trusted you enough to simply do as you asked them. Little D No 2 was carrying a tray of tea and cookies.

You were carrying what appeared to be a plastic bucket full of water. Where you had obtained such a thing, he couldn't be sure, but Barbatos was on his feet in an instant, ready to help you with it.

"No, you sit back down!" you said.

Barbatos immediately sat back down. He closed his eyes and blushed again. He wasn't sure why he was so inclined to listen to your command without question.

You brought the bucket over to where he was sitting and he noticed a cord trailing off the end of it.

"What is this, MC?" he asked tentatively.

"It's a foot spa," you said happily. "I borrowed it from Asmo."

Barbatos watched as you plugged in the little plastic bucket full of water. You took the tray from Little D No 2 and put it on the bedside table.

"Thanks, No 2," you said, patting him. "You can go now."

No 2 saluted you and scurried out of the room.

Barbatos continued to watch as you knelt before him, next to the tub. He watched as you began to untie the laces on his shiny black shoes.

"MC," he said. He reached out, grabbing your hands, seemingly unable to let you continue. "What are you doing?"

You looked up at him and again he was struck by the look in your eyes. A tenderness he didn't quite know what to do with.

"You're always on your feet," you said. "And Asmo said this is a really great way to relax."

Barbatos squeezed your hands. He was sure you could see the uncertainty written on his features. For once, he didn't have the presence of mind to hide it.

You sighed a little and moved into a taller kneeling position, scooting forward to put yourself between his knees.

Barbatos blushed as you leaned forward and kissed him. You took your hands out of his and put them in his hair instead. You kissed his cheeks, his lips.

"It's okay," you said. "I want to take care of you. Won't you let me?"

Barbatos closed his eyes for a moment, to brace himself against the assault of love in yours. It seemed you had not only become a fixture in the castle, but in his heart as well. In the end, he knew he couldn't deny you.

"Very well," he said.

You smiled and sat back on your heels. Barbatos didn't protest again as you removed his shoes and socks, rolling up the legs of his uniform pants and placing his feet into the warm water of the tub. You pressed some buttons and suddenly he felt the tub massaging his feet.

It was such an unexpected feeling that Barbatos let out an involuntary sigh, his whole body sagging slightly as it let out a tension he didn't realize he was holding.

He was so distracted by it that he didn't notice you had moved until you were sitting on the bed beside him with a steaming teacup.

You handed the cup to him, then put your hand on his back, letting your fingers trail down his spine. He shivered beneath your touch.

"Isn't this nice?" you asked, resting your head on his shoulder. "You should really let me do this for you more often."

Barbatos hummed thoughtfully. He had been so uncertain about this plan of yours. It was his job to take care of you, not the other way around. And yet, he couldn't quite deny the sweet beating of his heart. He couldn't pretend to himself that he wasn't already thinking of future moments like this with you. And he knew that even if he felt awkward, even if it felt backwards, that he would always allow you to care for him this way.

Barbatos would make an exception for you because all he truly wanted was to see that tenderness in your eyes.

flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

taglist: @anxious-chick @t0tallycoolname @libidinous-weeb

[hazelfoureyes]

Do you think you could do a male version of the radioapple is the safe word? Or maybe just a gender neutral pronouned story? I adore it so much

of course! I am happy to adapt my stories whenever possible 🥺✨ sometimes I can’t but this one was an easy enough shift! didn’t tag the horny deer cult, this is the same story but with the hardware swapped out. Will tag in new pieces 🙏 warning; I almost exclusively watch femboy gay porn and it shows

The Safeword is RadioApple (Part 1)

(RadioApple x MaleReader)

Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱ tidbit (cute, not smut) Part 4 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱✨NEW✨ ₊⊹⁀➴ Lucifer wins⟡Alastor Wins

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader, Lucifer x Reader, smut, RadioApple in a sense, male reader, creampie, breath play, rough sex, Alastor is an eternal little shit, soft jazz, hard jazz, Luci calls himself Daddy, 🗣️ READER GETS SPITROASTED, threesome, asshole hulk smashed, half assed blowjob, help I got too horny on main

MINORS DNI BRUH

“Sir.”

Lucifer jumped, whipping around and shoving Alastor’s face away. “You are a living nightmare, fuck!” He hated being snuck up on, as most people do. Adjusting his hat, he looked around the hotel lobby to see if anyone else witnessed his personal jump scare. Charlie and Vaggie were seated nearby, but hadn’t paid them any attention.

“I aim to please! Now,” Alastor gestured to the stairs, “I, unfortunately, need to show you something upstairs.”

“Ha!” Lucifer forced out a laugh, “Ha. Haaa- Not a chance, scarecrow. Find someone else to search for your brain.” He smirked to himself. “Did you hear that Charlie? I made a joke.”

But Charlie was not laughing. She finally turned her focus to them. “Dad, you have to start trying to get along with Alastor.” She looked to Alastor who was nodding along as if he actually cared at all, “He’s trying to spend time with you. Come on, Dad. For me?”

With a pout, he dramatically crossed his arms, “Fine. I’ll play nice, for you. Not for him.” Lucifer glared daggers at Alastor. “Fuck him.”

“Daaad!” She groaned.

“Yeah yeah, I’m going.” 

Alastor let his microphone follow behind Lucifer’s back, an unseen and unfelt safety net so he couldn’t back out. When they approached Alastor’s door, Lucifer put up his hands as if to physically stop the situation from progressing, “There is no way in all of hell I am going in your bedroom.”

Alastor’s eyes rolled, frustrated already with the interaction. “Are you sure about that?” He pushed the door open, using his mic to make contact with the small of Lucifer’s back. He stopped resisting when he finally looked into the room.

He took a step in, willingly, and as he saw you sitting in the center of the bed in just your sleep robe, he let out a quiet, “What the fuck is this?”

Then a louder, “Heeey, kitten…”. The sound of the door locking made his head whip back to Alastor, teeth bared.

“Luci.”

Softened under the sound of his own name from your lips he brought his attention back to the bed.

It was no secret to anyone that you two were fond of each other. It was the little things you did that endeared the fallen angel to you, how you doted on him. Filling his glass at dinner when you noticed it getting close to empty, holding the door for him, keeping eye contact when he went off on some excited tangent.

Everyone was also aware you were Alastor’s person. And Alastor would give you anything you wanted in death; and today you happened to want Luci.

You’d seen the broadcasts of the King of Hell defending his daughter during the last extermination. The power he gave off, even from your screen, brought goosebumps down your arms. So when you found your way to the hotel, you were elated to see Lucifer himself readily available for interactions. Your luck continued, as your father’s love of jazz had been passed down to you and allowed the radio demon to notice your presence among the sea of new residents. Following the sounds of Nat ‘King’ Cole, he found you one evening in your room, and a mutual fondness for music bore a new friend. And then, more. 

Soon enough you were a regular member of the Hazbin Hotel core crew, by way of Alastor.

That’d been some months ago now, and you finally had the courage to ask Alastor for a special favor.

No part of him understood your motivation, but the idea of making the king of hell pussy-whipped to his darling was understanding enough. And, of course, the pleasure of watching you enjoy yourself. While he was capable all his own, he was happy to allow someone else to fill in. Not to mention—- no, actually, definitely mention the fact it would give him a little more power in the tense dynamic between himself and Lucifer.

For Alastor, sharing you physically wasn’t an issue.  Sex was something he did for your pleasure, though he did enjoy the control he held over you in those intimate moments.

Watching you mewl under someone else, knowing he gave the permission, that Lucifer would never have a chance in Hell if The Radio Demon didn't allow it, made his head dizzy with the loss of blood flow. Whatever pleasure Lucifer could give you was pleasure he has granted you both. The idea of someone pining for you but never having a chance unless he says so made him feel powerful.

“I have a request, of sorts.” You tried to keep your smile still, cheeks twitching with pure nerves. The room was lit by only two small lamps on either nightstand and the light coming from the half open bathroom.

Lucifer approached you, making a dramatic point of going past Alastor. The radio demon chuckled, the king of hell scowled. He placed one knee on the end of the bed, trying to forget this was the spot you shared most nights with Alastor. His smile encouraged you to continue.

“You can say no.” You added quickly. 

“Why would I ever do that?” Lucifer continued to smile at you, too sweetly for what you were going to ask.

“Many reasons.” You added quicker. 

“Come on, tell Luci.” He laughed softly at the idea of denying you anything.

You pressed the tips of your index fingers together nervously, “I want you to fuck me.”

He tried to blink but his eyelids only seemed to rise further and further up his face with every attempt.

“You what now?”

His eyes darted to Alastor, who was now crawling onto the bed and settling behind you. 

“It was a fairly straightforward statement, sir.” Alastor’s tone was always teetering on mocking when he addressed Lucifer, “My dear would like you, for some god awful reason, to bed him.”

If this hadn’t been such a shock, Lucifer would have quipped, “Oh because you can’t, you overdressed maitre d’?”

But when he opened his mouth, there was nothing. He just stared at you. Alastor’s long legs and lanky arms came down beside you, behind you. You looked like the enticing light of an angler fish’s lure, sharp teeth shining just over your shoulder. 

“I thought-,” he motioned between the two of you.

You nodded, “Alastor is happy when I’m happy. And right now, I’d be overjoyed to spend an evening taking care of you.”

Oh, why couldn’t you have said it so sweetly the first time? Take care of him? You always did. Every time he felt something lacking he’d find you close behind offering him just the thing.

Whether a smile, or supportive word, or just a sympathetic ear.

Shifting onto your hands and knees, you crawled toward Lucifer. His face was flush, his brows knitted together in some mix of worry and confusion.

“You don’t have to do that, kitten. I don’t need that.” He reached out a hand to touch your cheek but stopped himself; he’d never touched you before. He had gone out of his way to avoid it, because he couldn’t bear what it would do to him. He’d just be hurting himself, he had thought. His hand began to pull away but you reached out with both of yours and took hold of his wrist.

“I don’t have to do anything, ever, Luci,” Alastor’s grin widened as you said it. A hum of approval only he could hear. A silent, ‘That’s my boy.’

“This is about what I want.” You leaned up to rest your cheek in his open palm, “I’ll accept any answer from you.” Your eyes staring up at him promised safety, “So, what do you want?”

He buried his face in his free hand, opening his fingers to look over you once more. In the shade of the canopied bed, Alastor sat motionless. But Lucifer couldn’t see him, not because of the shadows but because his focus was so purely on you. He had absolute tunnel vision, which happened often when you two would speak. Lucifer made a low sound, coming from somewhere deep in his chest,  hidden beneath all his shame and sense of inadequacy.

Your question was answered as he removed his hat, tossing it to the chaise lounge near the wall. You sat back on your legs and gave him space to remove his coat. Your heart seemed to double its pace, skin practically vibrating. A not-insignificant part of you expected a gentle but firm, “kindly fuck off.”

He seemed to be avoiding eye contact as he pulled his bow tie loose, only returning his knee to the bed when he’d kicked off his boots. Just the shifting of the weight of the bed made your thighs twitch, finally. Alastor leaned backed and watched, Lucifer’s gaze was full of uncertainty as he crawled to you. 

Hilarious. Already worth the price of admission. 

Both on your knees, you leaned up and placed a chaste kiss on Lucifer’s lips. Pulling back, you looked at him and he felt like we’re looking at the sun. Your face was so bright, and warm. What light were you reflecting back at him? Surely not his own. That was long dead. Long buried under bruised wings and lost promises. 

You snaked your fingers into his hair and brought him in for a deeper kiss. When you bit gently on his bottom lip, he shakily opened his mouth. Your grin spread across both of your faces as you pushed your way past his lips.

Lucifer’s tongue was long, and tapered more than you’d expected. It moved, unsure, against yours. Your hands slunk out of his hair and down his chest, sliding until finding the buttons of his vest. 

You felt him gasp into you, and when you began to open his shirt he pulled away, “It’s been… a very long time.”

A scream echoed in your skulll, your own scream, thankfully entirely in your mind. He was so cute. So soft. He looked so worried, you wanted to rip him to pieces with affection. Was that possible? You were going to try.

Your hands fumbled over his belt, the tremble in your fingers making the pants button feel like an aptitude test. Your mouth returned to him, kissing down his cheeks and into the space under his jaw. Finally you could slip your hand down into his pants, and you hissed without thinking.

He was painfully hard, throbbing head pressed into his skin. Your own cock twitched under your robe at the feeling.

Did you do this? Had you gotten the King like this with just a question and a kiss? Tip nearly purple with pressure, you rested your forehead on his collarbone and watched his stomach jump as you wrapped your fingers around it.

Alastor fought back a laugh, tongue nearly cut clean off with the attempt. This was better than he had expected. And he had just the idea to push it over the top.

When your head dipped to swipe your tongue over Lucifer’s cock, you both startled at the sudden sound of music. First you looked to the radio, then to Alastor.

One hand was loosening his bow tie, the other unbuckling his pants. 

“Don’t stop on my accord,” he bit his bottom lip, watching your attention return to Lucifer’s lap. 

Lucifer raised a finger in protest, “I wasn’t aware this was a group activity.”

“The more the merrier.” Alastor whipped his belt off and tossed it to the floor, other hand pulling his member free.

“Three’s a crowd.” 

“Two heads are better than one.” When Alastor lifted your robe away and sunk himself into you, hole soft and ready for him already, you moaned into the blonde hair at the base of Lucifer’s cock.

Your breath over his shaft and now down his balls made his hips buck against you. Your hands gripped at Lucifer’s thighs, trying to get steady enough to return your mouth to his waiting heat. You could smell his arousal, your head dizzy with so many of your senses being assaulted by both men. 

“You okay, kitten?” A concerned hand came to your cheek. 

Your watery, lust clouded eyes met his, “It feels so good, Luci.” His dick jerked. When you finally managed to get him in your mouth his head fell back, legs under him twitching with the need to move along to the bobbing of your head. Lucifer was wider than Alastor, the corners of your mouth burning as you tried to take in as much of him as possible. 

Alastor’s hand raked long nails down your back, a whine ran from your throat and down Lucifer’s shaft.  He moaned in turn, trying to not connect the dots between himself and Alastor.

“I think you may need a little demonstration, from someone more–, “ Alastor leaned down, his face now inches from Lucifer’s. His hand wrapped around your neck, “experienced.” He pulled you up by your throat.

Lucifer watched, your knees no longer touching the bed as Alastor fucked up into you. One hand gripping your throat, one arm holding your body against his. Your face began to redden, and your thighs noticeably clenching as best they could, legs open and feet on either side of Alastor’s body. Your cock hard and bouncing with every thrust. Lucifer winced, you looked pained, he wanted—

“Aa--Alastor,” Your voice was like honey, thick and sweet around Alastor’s name. Lucifer’s face fell flat, how could he have that? What did he need to do to have you say his name in such a debauched way? Why did that gangly sack of bones get all of the fun?

“See? He can handle more than you’d expect.” Alastor grinned, planting a kiss on your neck. You could see Lucifer watching through your wet eyelashes, his cock twitching repeatedly as his hand finally came down to touch himself. 

With the hand not holding onto Alastor’s wrist at your throat, you reached out for Lucifer. “Luci.” 

Alastor let you fall forward. Keeping your hips in the air and knees dangling just above the comforter, he continued his rough pace into your tight heat. Pulling your body on and off of his length with harsh drags he watched you lick from the base to the top of Lucifer’s member. Each thrust from him knocking your chin against it. 

When you popped the head back into your mouth and moaned around it from Alastor’s continued fucking, Lucifer gripped your hair with both hands. Alastor’s own erection jumped in you, the king of hell himself buckling from his dearest’s mouth. He could break him entirely by just pulling you off of Lucifer’s cock and refusing to return you. He was positive Lucifer would cry into his ruined orgasm if he did such a thing.

Tempting.

But, he promised to play along, for you. And he would, at his own terms. 

He pushed aside the thought entirely, instead returning to the task in front of him. Your tongue was pinned down when Lucifer was in your mouth, cock too fat to allow any room for movement. You abandoned trying to suck him off, and changed tactics to lick and kiss the sensitive flesh in your hands. 

Lucifer’s mind was—- he wasn't sure where exactly. His consciousness splintered around you. The feeling of you; your tongue was swirling around him, the first contact he’s had other than himself in literal years. The sound of you; your soft moans and huffs were both audible and physical, the hot breath ghosting over him. The sight of you; head in his lap as he leaned back, your ass in the air and making a satisfying slapping noise every time– 

Alastor. His eyes met Lucifer’s and a wicked grin took hold of his features. Lucifer could practically hear Alastor whisper across your body, ‘Watch this.’ Maybe Alastor had thought it, but he kept it to himself. 

Your hands began pumping Lucifer’s length while your body was slightly dragged away as Alastor backed up and let your knees find some solid ground again. 

Lucifer sat on his legs still, eyes flitting from between your face to the place you and Alastor connected. He could see Alastor disappearing inside you, and every intrusion had you gasping and mewling into the blankets. Your hand was still gently stroking him with outstretched arms, eyes clenched close.

Alastor smirked up at Lucifer, coming down over your back to reach around your body and find your dick, now pulsing under his hand. Immediately, you reacted. Legs squeezing together, hands stilling around your king’s cock. With a bite and lick to your shoulder blade, the radio demon set a bruising pace against you. That warmth in your core was spreading down as you felt him press against your g-spot with every kiss of his hips. 

You choked out his name, a chant Lucifer had never wanted to hear before now. How could you make Alastor’s name sound so delicious? He wrapped his fingers around yours on his dick and began moving with you. Your eyes rolled up to him, a weak smile forming before your orgasm made your face tighten. Alastor knew your body so well, bringing you to orgasm was like playing a well practiced song on the piano. Both required strong and fast fingers and a sense of rhythm. His hands working your shaft, fingers ghosting over your balls and head with every stroke up and down. 

With a few more deeper, shorter moves Alastor stilled, too. Your knees slid down as your hips sank into the bed, your own release sticky and already cooling under you.

Lucifer let your hand go limp, swallowing hard. He wasn’t ignorant to the way Alastor smiled at him as he reclined into the headboard, tucking himself back into his pants. 

“I have complete faith in you, for once.” Alastor teased Lucifer, hand motioning to your still limp body. His smile seemed to dare Lucifer, challenge him, to keep going even with Alastor’s release sitting pretty in you. 

Luci took a deep breath, steadying himself mentally, before pushing the hair from your forehead, “Hey there, kitten. What do ya need?”

With an uncharacteristic hunger in your eyes, you forced your line of sight up to him, “You, Luci.” Visibly shuddering, you sat up and brought your legs towards him, your knees touching each other in an odd display of shyness. Your hand felt at your entrance, Alastor’s seed just beginning to find its way from your relaxed and stretched hole. 

“Is it okay?” You asked, spreading the thick fluid between your fingers in front of Luci. 

Something between a grimace and a pout came over him, it wasn’t his ideal situation but the idea of — just how much he’d slip and slide in and out of your with the added lubrication made him feel feral. He wasn’t stupid, he knew Alastor hoped to ruin you and sour his experience. He decided to not allow it. 

With a kiss to his nose, you wrapped your arms around his neck and lied back. You weren’t sure you were breathing anymore when you felt his scorching head slot up with your entrance. He rubbed the leaking fluid over himself and you with swipes up and down your ass, teasing your entrance with every pass. The difference between his heat and the cooled cum made him shiver in turn. 

As he began to press into you, your body instinctively scooted away. It took both of your hands hooked under his arms to stay still enough for him to make any real headway. 

Luci stopped, your face clearly pained. Your head shook in response, “Please, you just have to keep going. I’ll adjust.” While both of his heads swelled with pride – Alastor’s cock clearly smaller – Luci didn’t notice the wild eyes of the radio demon. 

Alastor brought a hand to his face, red eyes peering between his spread fingers, smile threatening to break at the seams as he watched Lucifer Morningstar fucking his cum into his darling dear. 

 What a pitiful sight. How humiliating.

What would Charlie think of her big bad daddy? What would the other sins say? If they could see their king now, slick and shiny?

Your nails cut into his skin, and you were worried you were tearing slightly. Instead of attempting to thrust his way in, he chose to just continually press. The way your body seemed to be splitting made you second guess your decisions. But when his head finally popped in, your bullied boy cunt got some reprieve. He stopped, taking deep breaths. 

Tears were collecting on your waterline, Luci noticed and leaned on an elbow to wipe them away. His blonde hair was falling forward now, tickling at your forehead. 

You nodded, answering a question he didn’t ask, and he continued to force your walls open to accommodate him. The only sound in the room was the soft instrumental jazz number playing from atop the dresser. Your voice was stuck in your throat, Luci was focusing too hard to form words. Alastor could speak, but the music was just too enjoyable to interrupt. 

Finally, after what could have been two minutes or twenty, you felt Luci bottom out. You had to just lie there for a second, never having felt something so solid in your otherwise soft body. No slight to Alastor, who was perfectly skilled in his abilities. Luci was just—- more than you had expected. 

As he pulled out, you thanked the heavens and hell and the rings within that Alastor had left you so wet and already softened. The first few thrusts were genuinely uncomfortable, the pleasure you felt almost entirely mental, drawn from the reality of who was pulling your insides back and forth. You were so tight around him that he too was almost pained; so much pressure but no way to move enough to get any release.

Slowly, the ring of your entrance relented and Luci could finally move at a normal pace. He would take himself out to his head before slipping back in. Every thrust made your body spread around him, a semi-truck through a field of sunflowers. Your body didn’t stand a chance, and you were grateful he chose gentleness for his entrance.

He leaned back on both hands, using the position to fucked up into you at an angle. He knew very well where to hit to begin gathering your pleasure.

Alastor dropped his head, yours between his legs. His hair made a short curtain, hiding the look he was giving you from Luci. He adores the faces you make when you are happy. Excited. Pleasured. You tried to offer him a smile, but you couldn’t manage it for long. Your eyes would roll back, lips tighten as you focused on the feeling Luci was providing. Focused on the sensations, of being so full, so sticky wet, so wanted. But Alastor was still watching, the sight of Luci blocked from his view as he enjoyed every little twitch of your mouth, every whimper. 

It wasn’t jealousy, it was something more personal that stung Luci. While he couldn’t actually discern the looks you two gave each other, Luci felt very much the odd man out. But, he considered his position. Literally. He was leaning as far from your body as he could. He remembered the way you said Alastor’s name. Alastor had showed him exactly what to do, albeit in his usual obnoxious, showy fashion.

Sitting up, Luci adjusted your legs and slotted himself between them. Alastor leaned back, relinquishing your focus. Both of you looked at Luci though as one of his hands came to enclose your throat.

Alastor was almost impressed. Almost. You brought both hands to wrap around his wrist, glancing to Alastor behind you.

The words came out of Alastor as half warning, half instruction, “If he needs you to stop, he’ll tap two fingers twice on you, wherever he can reach.” Lucifer nodded, eyes not meeting Alastor’s. He kept them on your face, watching for any sign of distress as he tightened his grip. The way your muscles clenched around him earned you a hiss.

He began to move again, the new position causing his stomach to rut against your returning erection as he buried himself in you. More clenching; He tightened his grip more. 

“Are you sure he isn’t hurting?” Luci asked, your eyes closed and nails digging into his wrists.

“Nonsense. Can’t you feel him? Or does he just grip me like that?” The cocky expression made Luci unconsciously clench his fist on your neck. A gentle tap tap snapped him back to you. He loosened up again, his eyes large and apologetic.

You unconsciously tightened your own grip on his dick, grinding up into him for more friction. Your body had finally relaxed, pleasure freely flowing from where you and Luci tangled together. You closed your eyes, the pressure constant on the veins to your head. Blood flow restricted just enough to lower your oxygen levels and raise the nitrogen oxide in your body. It resulted in a dizzying feeling, maybe there was a primal panic that caused your body to feel heightened pleasure. You didn’t feel scared, or in danger. You felt —— ah there it was. You felt weak. You felt docile. You felt like you existed purely to give pleasure and the idea turned you on. In every day life you’d never allow someone to use you, to push you around. You were anything but subservient. That’s why it was so enthralling now. It was so strange a sensation. And to give yourself so fully to the king of hell, the originator of all sin? You groaned, head rolling back. 

Luci watched your head loll, drank in your groans and gasps and felt himself get dizzy too. More. Say his name like you did Alastor’s. Praise how well he fucked you. Reward him. Love him.

He pulled out suddenly, his head leaving you for the first time since it managed to fit in initially. Luci put both hands on your hips and directed you to roll onto your stomach. He pulled your ass up, knees bent. You crawled up enough to rest your forehead on the crook of Alastor’s leg, one lazily outstretched and the other bent under him slightly. Luci wasted no time pushing back in. He leaned over you and pressed his hand into your back, forcing your chest to be slightly crushed into the bed. He pulled out and slammed back into you, tearing a yelp from you as he hit deeper than he had before, stomach lurching into your chest with the impact.

He stopped, unsure, until he felt your hand reach under yourself and rest at the junction of his knee and calf. His other hand came to your right hip, and he used it to keep you from sliding up the bed. Letting his eyes close again, he focused on the feeling of you around him. His crotch and thighs were covered in oil and cum, his balls tight against him. Every drag out of you made his body jerk back into you with need. It felt so good, too good. He needed more. He pressed hard into you, oversized tip of his cock opening parts of you never before reached. He made shorter thrusts now, ensuring he bottomed out every time. It was too deep, too much of a stretch. Your moans slowly devolved into screams, the pleasure mixed with a soft burning. 

You could feel him spreading open your body, soft walls helpless to resist his raging member. The feeling of your silky boy cunt sliding along his cock, your tight hole gripping him, was driving him mad.

You were screaming. Actual, pleasured screams, threatening to alert the entire hotel to your activities. Wails that started shrill and dipped into a gutteral cry filled the room with every thrust of Lucifer’s frenzied hips.

A tiny part of your brain felt embarrassed, a dying animal shrieking into Alastor’s thigh.

An ever shrinking part of Lucifer existed too, the piece of him too preoccupied with your two fingers on his leg to enjoy you. It got smaller and smaller, no longer a blockade to his pleasure, but a safety net allowing him to walk the tightrope of sadism.

The radio’s volume dial rolled, smooth jazz now blaring and drowning out your painfully pleasured cries. Alastor was fine with allowing someone to take care of your needs at his permission but strangers had no business enjoying your sounds.

As Luci became lost in the sensation of your body trying to suck him in whole, his hand on your back began to press down. Your breaths got shorter, it got harder to expand your lungs fully.

Face turned and drooling onto the fabric of Alastor’s pants, you started gasping out his name, “Luci! Nngh Luciiii, Lucifer.”

Your lips dropped his name and it fell like lead into his thoughts. He fought the urge to close his eyes again as he felt his orgasm building. He watched your flushed skin jump beneath every punishing thrust, his name a spell you could now barely whisper, not enough breathe to scream. Your upper body was entirely buried into the mattress. It felt like your back might snap with Luci’s loss of control. You kept your hand on his leg, ever ready to tap out.

The yellow of his eyes turned red, just like the skin of your ass where his hip bones chaffed. “You take me so well, kitten.” He ground out, “Daddy’s gonna cum.”

Alastor’s eyes glowed a blood red from the end of the bed, a wickedly devious grin across his face at the opportunity before him, he looked up at Luci and said with a commanding tone, “Cum.”

Luci was already over that peak when his eyes flew up to catch Alastor’s, it was too late to stop his orgasm. He was helpless to disobey, despite his now desperate desire to never cum again. With a moan, and a hiss, he pressed your body fully into the mattress. Your body now flush, he waited until his cock stopped jerking his long overdue seed into your bruised ass.

Luci lied on top of you even after you were full to the brim with his cum. It was already forcing its way out around his softening cock when he managed to roll off of you and onto his back.

Staring at the canopy of the bed, he felt two emotions rise to the surface. First, concern. He turned to you, and you gave a weak thumbs up.

Second, rage.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Fuck you.” He looked to Alastor, who was grinning as he pet your head, whispering something to you. 

“Little late for dirty talk, your highness.”

Lucifer growled, but Alastor’s palm pressed against his forehead and pushed him back down to the bed.

“I sleep on the left. I’d prefer you on the right.” he gently moved your head from his lap, “Beside me, my dear. A darling barrier.” Alastor didn’t look at Lucifer, just slid off the bed and walked into the en-suite bathroom. “No outside clothes under the comforter.” Alastor called from the bathroom before the sound of rushing water poured in.

You rolled onto your back, still catching your breath. Body sprawled out on the massive bed like a starfish.

Lucifer turned onto his side, hand caressing your arm. “Are you okay, kitten? I didn’t mean to lose myself like that.” He felt shame, like he had done something terrible. “And— I didn’t help you finish. That’s pretty shitty.”

But it fell away when you smiled back at him, “I feel great. Sore, but great all the same.” You let your fingers clumsily lace with his. “I really like you, Luci. And I don’t need to cum to enjoy myself. You can always try again, ya know?”

Lucifer felt his face grow warm, but couldn’t press you to clarify what exactly that meant before Alastor scooped you up and carried you to the bath.

There was a moment where he was alone, noticing the radio was back to a tolerable volume, the water splashing softly out of view. He felt out of place, like he had accidentally walked into a stranger’s home. He wasn’t sure what to do next, where to go from there when Alastor’s head popped back into the room, annoyed, “Are you coming or not? Those are clean sheets.”

༻Masterlist༺

[megamindsecretlair]

Be My Little Darling - Interlude

Chapter 12 Chapter 13

Pairing: Loki x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. ANGST. There's ANGST. Mentions of grief, violence and negative self talk. Soft Loki.

Summary: Loki is the exclusive owner of the hottest club in New Asgard. Dubbed the Nine Realms, each of the nine rooms represent a different realm. You are his second in command, working the floors and ensuring everyone is having fun. An attack on the club affects everyone, you most of all. Loki wrangles with his own demons in search of you.

Word Count: 3,511k

Masterlist

A/N: Whew! Sorry for the long wait, but I couldn't get the thought of his POV out of my head before moving on to an attack plan. This week's been shitty and this definitely helped me! The care and feeding of your favorite artists starts with a comment or reblog!

Taglist: @cantstayawaycani @braverthanthenewworld @monaeesstuff @chaos-4baby @dayjlovesromance @soft-persephone @mybonafidefeelings @nerdieforpedro @browngirldominion @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @foxherder @itzgabz22 @iv0rysoap @amethyst09 @ciaqui @harmshake @nworbaij @judymfmoody @abcdestinyyyy

Loki

“You…bastard,” you sighed.

“I don’t know how else to be,” he said. 

Loki knew he went too far this time. He usually liked to toy with you, pushing your boundaries to see how far he could go before you truly snapped. He knew he walked a fine line but he had to know. Some deep part of him had to know where your line was. Where he couldn’t cross. 

You yanked your wrist out of his grasp, panting with unreleased gasps. He wanted you to let loose. He wanted you to yell and scream and rage at him. It was all he’d ever known and he wanted to see what it would take for you to break. 

“We promised no lies between us. And if you can’t give me that Loki, you can’t have me.”

He’d never heard you sound so…defeated. Angry sure, frustrated definitely, but defeated? That word didn’t belong in the same sentence as you. You refused to look at him so Loki opened his mouth, ready to fall to his knees and tell you how sorry he was. Words would never do. They were inadequate. 

Ideas flew through his mind on the right way to make up for the fucked up game of cat and mouse he played with you. He only ever wanted you to love him, but love wasn’t easy. Love was snide remarks and hiding in the shadows. Love was cruel secrets. He didn’t want that with you.

The blasted screaming started. Your eyes widened and you tore off down the hallway towards the sound. Loki clenched his fists and ran after you. He was going to strangle that damn saboteur if it was the last thing he did. The fiend had caused too much pain and misery. It was a wonder he still had a club left standing. 

The screams came from the Helheim room, thick black smoke rolling out of it in waves. Loki’s employees and customers ran screaming from the room. Blood-curdling screams that would make a lesser man wet himself. 

You attempted to enter but Loki held you back. “I don’t like the way this looks,” he said. He stared at the thick fog. It was almost too thick. Man-made. Or perhaps magically inclined. He didn’t want you anywhere near it.

You only turned liquid eyes to him, constructed two batons, and rushed inside. “Darling!”

Fear. Loki was not unaccustomed to fear. He’d been raised and humbled by it. There had been an ever present pressure in his chest as he grew up in the shadow of Thor and the bastard son of Odin. He felt it often whenever he came so close to death he could kiss its lips. Thanos was the latest harbinger of it and Loki didn’t think he’d survive it.

He was wrong. This, he couldn’t survive. The moment you were swallowed up into the fog, an icy hand slipped around his heart and he thought he’d collapse from the strain. Getting to you was more important, his life be damned.

He rushed in right after you and it felt like slamming into a wall of slimy muck. He couldn’t see two inches from his nose, let alone determine where you were in this mess. The fog seeped everywhere. Up his nose, in his eyes, and in his mouth. He gagged on the foul taste.

“Sweetie! Baby!” Loki turned to the sound of your voice, but he couldn’t pinpoint where you were. 

“Darling!” Loki barreled forward in the room, not caring what he ran into or who he ran over. He needed to know that you were okay. He couldn’t allow the last words you ever spoke to him be that he couldn’t have you. He couldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t allow it. He’d spend every waking moment taking back what he did if it just meant that you’d be safe. 

“Call out!” 

Loki heard your voice coming from the right side of the room. Problem was, he didn’t know how close or how far you were away. 

Panic edged its way into his consciousness as he moved forward. “Call out!” You cried out again, but you sounded fainter. Far away. 

“Darling!” Loki called. 

“Loki!” Was that fear he heard in your voice? Loki threw out a beam of green light to combat the fog. It didn’t penetrate it in the slightest. 

A curl of laughter made him whip around to face more black fog. He tried again and again to shine the green light and hoped to find his way to you. Your name fell from Loki’s lips as he tried tricks up his sleeve to clear away the fog. Nothing worked.

“Please,” Loki whispered. He wasn’t one for prayer. He had no use for foolish words carried on the wind for Odin to find. As his heart began to crack into two, he stopped moving briefly to cast his eyes upwards.

“Frigga…Mother, help her,” he pleaded. He didn’t know if his words were welcome in Valhalla. He’d likely never see it. But you…you would be celebrated there. A true warrior to your core. And today was not the day that you were taken from him. He didn’t care if he didn’t deserve you. He’d make sure you were safe. 

“Darling!” Loki yelled.

“Loki!” You echoed. Where were you? 

Loki’s panicked gasps only ensured that more of the thick fog entered his system. He began to feel fuzzy around the edges, like he drank tainted meade and couldn’t keep his wits about him. 

There was a clanging crash of chairs and metal off in the distance. Loki turned towards the sound but there was nothing to see. He didn’t know where it came from. 

“Is this all the attention I’m worth, Loki?”

Dread stopped Loki’s attempts at flashing his green light. That voice wasn’t right, but the inflection. The tone. Loki looked around, eyes darting for any glimpse of you. He just needed one. One to confirm that you were alright. 

“I leave you clues to know who I am and yet all you concern yourself with is your pet?” 

“No,” Loki whispered. “Why the games? Why not reveal yourself?” Loki couldn’t be sure but he thought he saw pinpricks of light at a good distance from him. 

“I want to see the look on your face when you figure it out. Until then, the fun must continue. But I will not be ignored!” The voices sounded distorted, there was definitely more than one. 

“Darling,” Loki breathed. A rush of fear and panic kept Loki rooted to the spot. There were only two other people in the universe who could conjure something like this. Who could throw voices, cast illusions. His mother and Enchantress. 

Loki refused to speak her name, refused to give voice to his doubts. Let her have her fun at the moment. Now it all clicked into place. Parlor tricks. Mean pranks. Things designed to irritate, confuse, and leave someone feeling unsettled. He taught her that. He should have known.

Loki kept his features schooled. He didn’t know how much she could see or hear at the moment. 

“Sweetie!” 

Loki moved towards the sound of your voice. He scrambled through the fog, getting absolutely nowhere. Chortling laughter echoed in the wide room, poking fun at his desperate attempts to reach you. It felt like he was swimming upstream and he’d never reach you.

What if he didn’t? What if you succumbed to your fear? He didn’t even know what you were most afraid of. You’d kept that part to yourself. And as much as he wanted to crack you open and learn all your secrets, he wanted your trust more.

Too many unresolved things were between you. You weren’t allowed to leave him. Weren’t allowed to haul off and get kidnapped, or worse, killed by Enchantress before he had a chance to repent. To surrender to your mercy. He had been a complete ass to you. That wasn’t the way he wanted to treat you. That wasn’t the way he wanted you to know him. That wasn’t the way he wanted to treat the love of his life. 

You screamed and Loki’s jaw went slack. He rushed forward, a clawing need burning through his legs to reach you before anything bad happened to you. As if the fog didn’t exist, it parted revealing you standing in the middle of the room faced away from him. 

“Darling!” Loki rushed forward, turning you by the shoulders. You turned towards him with a pained expression, burning twins of emerald in your eyes. Not Darling.

“It should have been you,” you said. 

Loki knew it was an illusion. A damn convincing one. Your eyes turned back to its original color and you rubbed your head as if coming out of a trance. He didn’t want to trust it. But what if? What if?

Loki rubbed your arms. You felt real enough. But he’d also been inside the fog long enough to become affected by it. Seeing and feeling things that weren’t there. It had been one of the first lessons he taught Enchantress. One of the first things he made sure she knew how to wield like a weapon. 

“Darling?” 

“Loki? Please, I’m scared.” Your voice was so small. So timid. He couldn’t trust it. But he wanted to. Gods he wanted to. 

“No, no, no, I’m sorry!” You screamed. 

Loki looked at the figure before him that was distinctly not you. You smiled as if you had been found out, shrugging that it was no big deal that you got caught. 

“Darling!” Loki screamed. The figure in front of him stepped closer and ran a knife through his stomach. There was pain sure but…illusion. Had to be. He’d been stabbed enough times to know the difference between an illusion and a real knife. Didn’t mean it didn’t really fucking hurt though.

The smoke obscured the figure that looked like you and Loki fell to his knees. He couldn’t reach you. The realization made his chest hurt and his eyes burn. He couldn’t save you from this. Save you from her.

All this time, Enchantress had been watching Loki and the way he was with you. The way he looked forward to seeing you every day. He replayed the image of you on his doorstep, confident in nothing but a coat to cover your delicious body. The way you surrendered beneath him.

“Please,” Loki whispered. He’d give anything, do anything, be anything if it meant that he could get you out of here unscathed. 

“You’re a disappointment, Loki. Nothing but an Asgardian child’s nightmare,” Odin’s distinct voice rang throughout the room. 

Loki flipped his head back to look his father in the eye. He told himself that it was another trick. But gods…he looked the exact same. Down to his flowing white hair. 

“I should have left you on that godforsaken ice planet and been rid of you. A boil on my house since the moment I brought you home,” Odin said. The smug bastard looked Loki up and down with his one eye. 

Loki grinned, falling back on his usual sneering authority. “You can do better than that, Father.” 

“We need no longer speak, Brother,” Thor’s voice rang loud and clear as he stepped from the fog next to Odin. 

Loki’s grin faltered, but he kept up the pretense. He had to. He had to keep going. He couldn’t succumb to the mounting pressure in his chest that whispered for him to give up. To lay down. To stop fighting. 

Loki always had a strong sense of self-preservation. Growing up in the palace, he studied under his mother. The one person who didn’t look at him like he was a dark stain on the golden family. 

He always felt different. Odd. Whenever Odin spoke of becoming King of Asgard, he always knew that he was speaking more to Thor than to Loki. Always knew that when it came right down to it, Loki wasn’t even a thought. 

“There is no reason for us to speak as you can’t be trusted.” Loki looked into fake-Thor’s eyes. He was round and dumpy as he had been in the streets. As he had been since the fall of Thanos. It couldn’t be the real Thor and yet…

“Why do you continue to visit, Brother, knowing that I want nothing to do with you? If it wasn’t for you and your selfishness, Thanos wouldn’t have gotten hold of the Tesseract. You brought this blight upon us,” Thor spat at him.

The pain in his chest worsened. He knew he wasn’t bleeding out, but what good were thoughts when the physical manifestation was eating him from the inside out? 

He longed to see you. To hear you laugh. Hear you call him all manner of names under the sun. He yearned to see you beneath him, wrapped up in him, and looking at him with something other than disdain. Like he meant something. 

“I didn’t know,” Loki responded. The weight was too great. It’d be so easy for Loki to lie down. To not take anymore. These verisimilitudes were damn convincing. They crowded Loki as he bent at the waist, head nearly touching the floor. 

He didn’t want to give Enchantress anymore ammunition against him. But there was no use. Frigga appeared next and folded her arms. A cruel smile split her lips. 

“Oh, Loki. Did you really think I’d help your little whore of a pet?” 

“Stop this, at once!” Loki’s voice broke as he looked away from the venom in his mother’s eyes. “Mother, please.” 

Reality and fantasy blended in his head. He knew what was true and yet the illusions of his family began spewing all manner of things he thought about himself over the years. He was useless, worthless, a trickster, couldn’t be trusted. Their words echoed and meshed together. A ringing cacophony of negative words thrown at him. 

“No!” 

Your voice was like a single ray of sunshine in the bleak room. You sounded like how he felt. Afraid. Desolate. He had to get to you. If nothing else, he needed you to be safe.

“That’s the problem with trying to use this trick on me. There’s nothing you can say that I don’t already tell myself,” Loki said to the visages of his family. His broken, tortured, screwed up family.

They all sneered at him. “Yes, we know you’re oh so powerful. But are you powerful enough to save your pet?” Frigga leaned close and ran her hand down Loki’s face. She even got his mother’s scent nearly so. 

“Better hurry,” Frigga whispered.

“No, no, no, I’m sorry!” You screamed.

Loki scrambled to his feet and ran after your screaming voice. You had to be locked in some sort of nightmare. Trapped by your own demons. That’s what the spell did. Cracked open your skull and read your thoughts like an open book. It laid bare all the admonishing negative self talk. All the things people punished themselves for.

It didn’t work half as well on Loki because he already did that on a daily basis. You, however, you sweet, beautiful woman pushed those thoughts to the background. Tried to bury them deep. But your grief was loud.

Gods, you sounded like a wounded animal. Clawing and screaming at nothing. His heart successfully cracked down the middle and shattered within his chest as seeing the confusion and fear on your face. 

“Darling, Darling,” Loki said, shaking you gently to wake you from the nightmare. Gods, what must you see at the moment? What horrible torment did you endure day after day on top of what he had planned?

Loki flipped you over. You blinked at him, swimming up from whatever dark place you were in. Recognition dawned in your eyes before you gasped, pointing behind him. “Loki, look out!” You yelled. 

“No! No! No! Not him! Take me!” You yelled with a raw, singed throat. You fought with Loki, fought to climb to your knees. 

“Darling, gods,” Loki breathed. He tried to hug you or press you to his chest. You fought him. You were so drained, your hits barely landed. You were spent, strength depleted. And still you fought some invisible beast.

“Take me! Take me! Take me!” You said, over and over.

Pain laced through Loki’s heart. Did you really think…? Did you really believe that he would allow you to sacrifice yourself for the likes of him? 

You suddenly screamed, clutching your head like it was about to burst. Loki called your name, repeating it over and over. He wasn’t strong enough to break the spell. He wasn’t strong enough to lure you out of the nightmare and show you that everything was okay. 

You finally passed out to the sound of him calling your name again and again.

Loki moved you to his office where he could keep a close eye on you. He didn’t want to risk bringing you back to his place. He demanded a doctor be located and brought to his office. He left the clean up to Honey and some of the other staff who weren’t affected by the fog. Not like the ones who were hit full force.

All night, people came in and out to check on you until Loki finally closed the door, stating that you needed to rest. Your face was scrunched in pain in sleep and Loki finally sat vigil by your side.

He clasped your hand in his, bringing your cold hand to his lips and pressing soft kisses there. Alone, with no one to overhear, Loki finally let the tears fall. All the pent up, dire emotions that swam in his head and chest, he let loose with a string of tears running down his face.

“Mother, if you still want to hear from me, please don’t punish her. Don’t take her away from me. Bring her back. Return her to me and I will spend the rest of my days earning her love. Please, Mother,” Loki prayed. 

You woke up a few times in the night, waking long enough to check on the club. When you woke up for good and confessed your love to him, Loki was so shocked he didn’t know what to do. He knew he needed you to know how he felt though. 

He expected many things, but a night of confession wasn’t it. He expected you to hate him, loathe him, cast him out from your presence. Instead, you opened yourself to him and trusted him with your secrets. He did the same in kind.

“For a night of confessions, I have one more.” He took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure how well you’d take this news on top of everything you had been through tonight. But you were tough. His brave Darling. You rubbed his hand and looked at him. 

“I know who the saboteur is now. Enchantress. She…when the loneliness grew too much for me to bear, I thought I’d fashion myself a companion. I taught her how to use magic like how my mother showed me. But she thirsted for power, not companionship. And now she’s rightfully back, taking her hatred out on me for what I did to her.” 

“Fuck that. She’s batshit crazy and she’s gonna hear from me about that little stunt she pulled,” you said. Fire burned in your eyes and Loki smiled, loved seeing the spark return. It was a damned good sight better than you passed out on the couch.

“This is a demon from my past, Darling. I will take care of her,” Loki said. Or die trying. But as long as you were safe, Loki could finally enter Hel and begin his long, cursed life anew. 

“I know that look, Loki. We can fight her together,” you said.

“You nearly died from shock, Darling!” Loki didn’t mean to yell, but now that you were awake he could feel all of his worrying and frustration flood his system. He nearly lost you. The doctor declared that one minute longer and your heart would have given out. 

“If you go, I go,” you said, your face set in a determined grimace.

Loki looked at you. He rubbed his face and sighed. He didn’t want to argue this point. He didn’t want to put any extra strain on you.

“For tonight, Darling, can we argue about this in the morning? I just want to feel that you’re safe,” he confessed softly.

You smiled, nodded, and opened your arms. There wasn’t a whole lot of room on the couch for you both, but Loki was thin. He slid right in beside you and held you close. Felt your heart thumping beneath your chest. Felt the rhythm of your breathing. The soft fan of your breath across his neck.

“Sleep, Darling. I’ll protect you,” he said. He idly rubbed your back until your breathing evened out. He thought you already passed out, so when you murmured, he almost didn’t catch it.

“I’ll protect you too.”

WHEW! Always more Loki to love!

Masterlist | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13

[crumbledcastle28]

Din Djarin: Dare You to Touch Me--Dare You to Love Me

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader (afab; she/her)

Excerpt: "You couldn't say it out loud, he knew you couldn't, so you screamed at him with your eyes. They told him everything he needed to know.

I dare you, they said, I dare you to touch me. I dare you to love me, even like this.

Help me.

But he didn't. All you got was one single croak of your name before he headed behind you, scooped the Rodian into his arms like it was nothing, and said, huskily, "I'll meet you at the Crest."

And that was it. He was gone.

He fucking left you.

Warnings: ANGSTTTT, Din's a scaredy cat, graphic descriptions of blood and knives, reader is really self-deprecating and gets really really dark, needles, stitching, swearing, Din gets some sense knocked into him, the Razor Crest is forever alive in my mind, hopeful ending.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: This is incredibly kanej inspired, therefore incredibly personal. I hope you all enjoy :)

If you'd like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated <3

Pedro Masterlist

(Gif credit to Pinterest)

You didn't know if the red on your hands was from the crimson lighting the prison ship had been showered with, or your own blood leaking from your gut. Not leaking, sprouting. Its thickness and warmth gushed onto your hand and wrist, pumping so fiercely that the pressure you had against your wound wasn't enough to prevent some dripping down onto the floor, effectively causing you to slip on your own butchery. You could fit your pointer finger in-between the flaps of skin separated from the Rodian's dagger, and the pain of it spun your brain in circles, so much so that you could not help the breakfast you had only hours before splatting on the metal floor.

That fucking reptile had gotten you good. Too good. Luckily for him, your revenge came in a blaster shot through his brain, rather than something much, much worse. His corpse was heavy as hell though, and having to drag it in your state didn't help either. You were slipping in your own blood and vomit, grinding your teeth after every step you took, dragging hundreds of pounds one-handed, and practically biting off your own tongue to keep from wailing.

And Din was nowhere to be found.

Frankly, you were more disgusted with yourself than you ever would be with him. It had gotten too perfect with him, too easy. The two most brutal, solitary bounty hunters in the galaxy, hearts locked inside impenetrable chains, practically salivating to finally touch the other. He had done everything else; told you his name, his Creed, his losses, and you had done the same to him. Those demons inside your head reared their ugliness, screaming at you to get a fucking grip.

Just wait, they said. He's just like everyone else. He'll disappoint you just like everyone else, and you've given him enough ammo to destroy you.

You were a child to believe otherwise.

Maybe he's just run late, that child inside you whimpered, or he's hurt.

You pushed her down, and carried on.

You had made it at least fifty feet away from where the two of you were supposed to meet, inches away from rounding the corner to the Crest--satisfied at the thought that you were very capable of taking everything he ever loved inside that piece of metal and burning it to ash--when a burst of your blood gushed on the floor just right, twisting your ankle, and sending you forward, pushing your hand deeper into your wound.

You didn't remember screaming or puking, but you imagined you had to have done both, because it was right then that Din rounded the corner, finding you in a puddle of your own blood-soaked vomit.

He froze, panting, as your vision went white with pain. Your body sunk into the floor, screaming at you that the metal was actually cushioned, the light you saw behind your eyes was only sleep, and the thick fluid coating your hand was warm, soapy bathwater.

Stay down, your demons whispered, stay a while.

No, the child within exclaimed, Din is here. Din will help.

With a grunt, you helped him with the first step, getting you onto all fours. You propped yourself up with the last of the strength you had, your mouth dribbling out more spit and vomit as you did, and waited. Waited for those large, leathered hands to take you into his arms, and carry you home.

You waited, and waited, and waited, and when you finally turned your head to look at him is when you finally let a single tear escape.

He just...stood there, looking down at you like some pathetic lump of flesh, only slowing him down. His arms remained firmly at his sides, while his chest rose up and down erratically, the way it did when he was angry. He stared down at you, the most vulnerable you had ever been, and looked at you like you were the most useless, pitiable, disappointing creature to ever grace his eyes.

Maybe he doesn't realize, the child within exclaimed, show him.

And you did, you had been. You couldn't say it out loud, he knew you couldn't, so you screamed at him with your eyes. They told him everything he needed to know.

I dare you, they said, I dare you to touch me. I dare you to love me, even like this.

Help me.

But he didn't. All you got was one single croak of your name before he headed behind you, scooped the Rodian into his arms like it was nothing, and said, huskily, "I'll meet you at the Crest."

And that was it. He was gone.

He fucking left you.

Told you, the demons whispered, and the child within you finally broke.

You sobbed as you attempted to stand, you sobbed as you vomited from the effort, you sobbed as you wiped your chin, you sobbed as you pressed against your wound once again, you sobbed as you finally put your feet under you, and you sobbed as you took each and every step back home.

Home, the demons inside your head cackled, you have no home. You never will.

You were truly a lamentable sight. You were surprised you didn't bash your own head in.

Finally, the Crest came into view through the pounding in your head and the haze of your own tears, and for that one second, you pretended he had stayed. You pretended he was guiding you with his forearm against your back, his voice against your temple, and shoulders propping you up. You pretended the chills on your body were from the chill of his armor, not your own blood loss, because for once, you had been right about someone. You had been right about him.

That second of delusion was enough, before the demons inside your head went back to its guffaws.

You trekked your way up the Crest's ramp, biting down on your cheeks until they bled, because he would not hear you scream. Your head was getting worse, beginning to fade in and out of consciousness. It was obvious you needed a stitching, and as you searched for a clean kit through the Crest's shelves, you recalled how many times you had stitched Din up. You always kept your gloves on, and you removed as few pieces of his precious beskar as you could, but you stuck with him through every stitch, every groan, every drop of blood from his body, you stayed. You never removed your gloves, no matter how badly you wanted to touch him, truly touch him. Trace the constellation of moles on his back, the depth of his scars, and the warmth of his tan skin. You never did.

You wondered if those beskar pieces would sink with him when you threw him into Naboo's Abyss.

One more time, the child inside you cried out. She was wailing now. Please, try one more time.

You slammed the drawer shut when you found a kit suitable enough, and you slammed it hard. You waited for him to come out of the cockpit, hands filled with bacta and bandages, but he remained seated in the captain's chair, unmoving.

Like everyone else, the demons said, and clicked their tongues.

The child sobbed, and you did with it as you proceeded to clean and bandage yourself. Alone.

He could close the fucking hanger himself.

The cleaning of your wound was the worst of it. The water burned down the nerves of your legs and feet more than you expected, as well as the warm towels pressing against your wound. You had to go inside of it, just to be safe, and tried not to imagine what organs you were memorizing the texture of. Stitching it was nothing, you could do it with your eyes closed, but with the mix of the exhaustion of blood loss, pain, and the scars reopened in your heart, you were out as soon as you snipped the excess thread away and bandaged yourself up tightly. You were in your own cot, thank the maker, in the storage unit Din let you use as a makeshift bedroom.

Let you use, the demons said with a scoff.

Let you use, the child said with a smile.

It had to have been at least a day before you finally woke up, your mind blank with those first few seconds of the bliss of ignorance, allowing you a moment of peace in forgetting that anything had ever happened, before you were met with as dry of a throat you had ever had, an ache across your body like you had never experienced before, and a stab across your midsection to bring you right back to reality.

"Fuck," you whispered, and immediately went to press your fingers against the throbbing slice, when your fingers were met with something...soft.

A thin blanket had been placed over you, and as you propped yourself up in shock, a voice deep as night replied, "Y/N."

You turned, and for just one second, the child inside you admired.

Din was sitting on a makeshift pile of blankets squished against the wall, body still covered in beskar, with a glass of clear water in his leathered hand. "I didn't...know if you had drunk anything."

Initially, your heart warmed.

Me, the child inside you whispered, he was worried about me.

You stared into where you could only guess his eyes were underneath his helmet, and your mouth threatened to etch into a smile as you felt your hand begin to reach for the liquid. Until, the demons that haunted to you whispered in reply.

Remember.

Your hand halted, and the look of love in your eyes quickly wilted into a look of fury. Your lips did etch into a smile, but more of a devilish grin.

You have the upper hand. Use it.

Your voice came as rich and powerful as ever. "I can take care of myself."

You then tossed your legs over the cot, stood slowly, and left him. You barely felt the ache in your midsection anymore, not with the endorphins revenge brought on.

As you walked to the kitchen, imagining how satisfying it was to know how much hurt he'd feel when you finally walked out, slightly limping but more joyful than you had been in weeks, a firm grip caught your forearm, and a voice of terror, true terror, whispered, "wait."

Your nostrils flared and your bicep flexed as you turned, ready to pull your hand away and knock him on his ass, when you noticed the same breath pattern he had when he had found you only a day before.

The beings inside you were too curious to pull you away from him just yet.

"Please just...please just listen," he exclaimed, voice weighed down by a mixture of seemingly every emotion possible, "I didn't...I didn't know what to do. I'd never seen you like that before. So near death. I have only ever seen you standing, and to see you so down was--"

He paused to gather a breath, and as he did, his back straightened, his composure tightened, and his voice was coated with something almost...evil.

"--I wanted to destroy him," he finished. "The fucking Rodian. I wanted to be the one to blow a blaster through his brain, and rip him apart as I did."

A film of water began to coat your eyes. You didn't know from what.

"I panicked. I'm a fucking coward who panicked when you needed me, and I am so, so sorry."

His grip on your wrist had loosened slightly, his thumb even beginning to rub delicate circles on the top of your hand, and it took everything in you not to let the child within you-- as well as the woman-- fall apart against him. He was finally daring to touch you, rub on you, and you wanted to know what else he would dare to touch. How would his fingers feel stroking through your hair? Down your back? Against your face?

He was scared, the child within you whispered, he was scared, that's all he was, and he admitted it.

You could forgive him. You know you could.

But could you go through this again, the demons asked.

No. You couldn't. Your id and superego were at war once more, and with what little strength your ego had between them, you spoke.

"You fucking left me," you croaked, "you left me to die."

"I know. I know I did," he muttered, ashamed. "And I am so sor--"

"No," you stopped him, finally prying your hand away from him. The rage, hurt, and pain you felt over the previous twenty-four hours finally bubbling their way to the surface with the tears running down your cheeks.

You would not let yourself feel this way, ever again.

"Don't apologize to me." you stated. "Prove yourself to me. If you ever--ever--pull that shit again, I am gone. Gone. Do you hear me?"

He stared. Unresponsive.

"Do you hear me?"

"Yes," he finally blurted. "Yes."

"Good," you said, and backed away from him. "Now take a fucking shower. You smell even through the armor."

You could've sworn he chuckled as he walked back through the cockpit.

You continued your walk towards the kitchen, wiping your tear-stained cheeks, and you felt your demons begin to belittle you once more.

He's going to do it again, they chanted, and again, and again, and again. He will rip you open time and time again. He knows you're weak for him now. He will use it. He will use it to take advantage of everything that you are. Pathetic.

But the child within you only smiled, satisfied with her knowledge of the truth.

Din was bigger than all of them.

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[meabh-mcinness]

Hello there! I just wanted to say that ive been a fan of yours for a bit and I really really love your work. I hope you keep up the amazing feels and are doing good in general!

I would like to ask for iruma with mom!reader.

WITH RECENT EVENTS! in the manga our boy needs some proper comfort.

I want the reader to hold iruma and tell him that everyone started caring about him because of him, I wanna see along the lies of the reader telling him " they will see the human in you and they will love you for it just like you love them as the demons they are"

( i also want mama reader just going full on quiet rage on kalegos brother to the point her aura consumes the ball room and he feels like his chest to going to cave in)

IRUMA IS SAD BUT ALL HIS ADOPTIVE PARENTS ARE WILLING TO HELP!

But thank you for taking the time to reade this i hope that this isn't too hard for you to do and please keep being awesome!

Thank you very much! I've been doing good, though I'm tired what with starting a new job and all, and I hope you are as well!

Sorry this took so long to get out, but it's finally here! Hopefully you're OK with it, since I did take a little bit of liberties with it.

Main Masterlist

Boss B*tch

When Narnia tries to put Iruma in his place, it ends up being him who is shot down instead. By you, Iruma's parent, who is none too pleased that an overconfident mutt hurt their baby's feelings. Luckily, if there is one thing humans are good at, it's mimicking that they are much more fearsome predators than they actually are.

TW! The only thing I can think of is the reader does draw a bit of blood and grabs Narnia's hair and threatens him. I don't think there's anything else?

One minute.

You had looked away for one minute, distracted by Alice and Razzbery fighting over Amaryllis, and when you looked back your son was no longer by your side. A frown flitted over your face as you swept your eyes over the ballroom. With so many colourful outfits, it was rather easy to find the blue-haired boy in his near black suit. He was still back where you had been originally, standing by Fenrir, or Fen-chan as he insisted on being called.

Iruma appeared to be sparkling as he chattered on about something. A fond smile appeared on your face as you excused yourself from the group to wander back over to him. Logically, you knew that you had to let him go off on his own, and yet you were incredibly anxious to leave him be when surrounded by so many high-ranking demons. And evidently, as you watched Iruma's face scrunch into confusion before falling into fear as Fenrir said something in return, you had been right to feel so.

Your eyes narrowed, your smile falling as Fenrir started to crowd in Iruma's space. You were close enough now that you could hear what it was that Fenrir was saying. He seemed to be going on a rant about the possibility of humans invading the Netherworld and, from the way he phrased it, made it obvious to you that he was more than aware of their existence and seemed to have a personal vendetta against them.  And more than likely he knew about you and Iruma being humans. As much as you had liked his quips, it was obvious.

Fenrir was a danger.

And you wouldn't allow danger near your son. Not after coming so close to losing him in the heartbreaker exam. Your nerves, which had been slowly loosening since then, tightened once more and your teeth were bared before you had even thought about it. Eyes narrowed, you watched as Amaryllis pounced on Iruma from behind out of nowhere, and vaguely wondered how she had got there first, before pushing the thought away. It was obvious from the way her body was tensed, one hand raised, that she was about to attack Fenrir too, but you had got there first.

Before she could strike out, you were there, palm hitting his face, nails digging into his skin as your hand flew out. You watched as he fell to the ground, his eyes widened in shock at the force and his blood splattering out against the ground next to him. You were suddenly very happy that you had grown your nails out to try and blend in with the demons here, as he tentatively raised one of his hands to the shallow claw marks on his cheek, blood still rising to the surface.

It was rather obvious from his dropped mouth and empty eyes that he was in a state of shock, as if he really couldn't comprehend that someone, much less you, had actually struck him. From the corner of your eyes, you could also see everyone else staring at the two of you as well. Amaryllis seemed to be stuck somewhere between surprise and pride, and Iruma had forgone all composure as he stared with eyes wide and mouth open, and all the varying demons around seemed to be imitating him.

To be fair, you could kind of understand why. This was a ball where they were supposed to be celebrating the future, and now there appeared to be two individuals fighting.  One of which was a self-proclaimed third most important member of the Border Patrol, a force that most did their best not to make an enemy of. And you had sent one sprawling to the floor with one hit.

There would most likely be consequences, you knew, as more of your anger seeped out of you. Amaryllis could have got away with it easily, being a member of the 13 Crowns. But you? You were just an unknown, unranked, being. Even if you are a child of one of the three greats, you, yourself, held no real power. And you had picked a fight with a demon who was leaps and bounds more powerful than you.

A fight you were determined to win through sheer willpower alone if necessary. Losing was not an option when Iruma was involved as collateral.

"You talk of beings that don't belong so well, and yet don't seem to recognize that the only one here who is out of place is you. You are nothing more than an overconfident mutt at my feet who needs to be retaught manners," He stared up at you, eyes wide at the seeping aura of anger and danger that poured out of your every cell.

Suddenly a giant black wolf materialized above him, with three eyes, and multiple tails raised in anger. All snarling fangs and posture, and while you felt fear tear through your body, you stared up at it as if you were unimpressed, before pulling your lips back and giving a loud snarl of your own at it. You watched it pause for a second, ears flickering in its hesitancy at this tiny being in front of it, before the canine abruptly vanished again. Leaving behind Fenrir, still at your feet.

He appeared to be out of his shock and was kneeling now, likely trying to stand up while you were distracted. Well, you couldn't have that just yet. You quickly grabbed a fistful of his hair and leaned down while dragging him up so your faces were inches apart. A hiss left his mouth at the abrupt action, but he quickly shuts his mouth again at the look on your face.

His mind was racing as he tried to comprehend what exactly was happening. He knew you were a human, and humans were supposed to be weak little creatures. Easy prey that even an infant could catch, so logically you were supposed to be as well. And yet here you stood with all power reeking off of you like you were the Demon King himself. In the face of your fury, he felt a lot like some pup before the raging alpha of an enemy pack.

He could practically see it, instead of your human form, a large wolf with long flowing fur the colour of your hair, that would put his Cerberia to shame. Felt the large clawed paw on his chest with the way he struggled to breathe under the pressure, could hear the low furious growl that rumbled out of your chest, past the large fangs poised to rip him to shreds.

He felt more like he was looking at a deity of wrath than a human. He was as awed at your presence as he was fearful, as he stared up at you. 

"If I ever find you talking such drivel to my child again, I will skin you alive before ripping out your eyes, shoving them down your throat, so you can see my claws rip your carcass open while wearing your skin as a dress. Do you understand me?" you growled out at him. He nodded as best he could with your hand still clutching his hair. You leaned in more till you were right next to his ear, and whispered, "I know you know what I am, but you will cease and desist any attempts against me and mine before I show why our two worlds were really separated. After all, it was never for the benefit of human lives that demons vanished off to someplace new," before you abruptly let him go while standing up straight. He collapsed slightly, almost falling to the floor again before he caught himself with his knees. His head stayed bowed, showing his back, suitably cowed before you.

"Good boy, now go on, apologize."

Fenrir staggered to his feet before you, head still bowed. "Please forgive my rudeness, my lady. It will never happen again." He slowly turned towards where Iruma was standing, still flabbergasted at your display, before straightening up when he noticed the demon's gaze on him.  Fenrir bowed again at Iruma, "And to you too, milord. I got too carried away, and it was wrong of me. I am sorry for scaring you."

Iruma started to move his hands slightly, to wave away the apology, but one quick shake of your head had him lowering them again. "It's - It's alright..." Iruma said, still startled and somewhat lost at what was going on. 

Fenrir raised up from his bow to Iruma, and turned back towards you, lowering his head towards you once again, "If you'll excuse me, my lady, I think I'll go wash my face." He stayed still until you nodded your head, before he turned away and walked off, presumably towards where the washrooms were. Your eyes stayed narrowed on his form until he disappeared from your view by the surrounding crowd. And really, when had it gotten that big? 

Shaking your head mentally, you did your best to ignore the crowd as you turned your attention to Iruma. He still looked as shocked as before as you made your way over to him. He straightened once more, though he fidgeted a little bit under the intensity of your look. Likely misreading your determination as anger at him. 

Squishing his cheeks in between your hands as you finally made your way to him, you turned his head this way and that, before looking him up and down. Satisfied with your inspection but not still high on nerves, you asked him if he was OK. He gave the best nod he could with his head still stuck in your hands, and you quickly let him go. Seeing a look in his eyes though kept you from fully believing him. 

Had you scared him? You generally presented a very calm parental relationship with him. Trying your hardest to never give in to a temper and always think things through calmly when dealing with anything with or near him. You would hate to find out that the one time you let anger consume you had changed his perception of you. 

Hearing two shouts of Iruma’s name, you turned towards where two individuals were forcing their way through the dispersing crowd, dragging you out of your thoughts. Now that the show was clearly over, the other occupants were going back to their original groupings, still chattering about what had happened but no longer as interested in watching you. 

Focusing back in, you found the two individuals were Amerie and Alice. Both talked over the other as they tried to find out what happened and if everyone was OK. Waving off their concerns, you simply commented that a dog had to be retrained and that it had been handled before grinning at their flabbergasted looks. 

Glancing over towards Iruma you noticed he seemed to slowly withdraw into himself. His eyes clouded over as whatever he was thinking slowly consumed his mind. Thinking quickly, you gestured over to where a few tables were and suggested that you took a quick break after all the excitement. Amerie and Alice had clearly come to the same conclusion as you, as they quickly nodded and surrounded Iruma as if trying to hide him from view as you led the small group over. Amaryllis declined the offer, saying she still had some socializing of her own to do, before veering off away from. Judging from her determined walk, she was likely on her way to visit the misbehaving dog from earlier.

With Iruma and you settled at a table hidden to the sidelines, you couldn't help the fond smile that crosses your face as both Amerie and Alice fawned over Iruma. Both clearly expressed worry over how he felt about what had just happened, but were not certain about what to do to make it better. When Iruma shooed them away to have fun and that he simply wanted to have a moment alone, your smile dipped into a frown. Due to the way he was raised, Iruma always jumped at the chance to have others around him. Constantly craving their affection and company. To push others away after something like that clearly said something was wrong. And you had a good feeling what it was.

You were going to kill Fenrir the next chance you got.

You gave the two demons across from you a nod and put a hand on Iruma's shoulder gently. "Don't worry, I have him. Go have fun and make connections. We'll join in again later."

They both hesitated, clearly still uncertain about leaving him, before nodding in acquisition. With a few last words, they left to socialize with the others, and you watched them go before turning back to Iruma.

"How about we get out of here briefly," you suggested with a wink at him.

His eyes widened at your words, staring at you with a dropped jaw, "But we promised Opera-"

"We promised not to leave the Deviculum, and we're not." You nodded to the large curtains strewn along the walls. "I noticed them earlier, but didn't think we would need them. Every one of the curtains leads to a balcony. We'll be out of prying eyes, and you get a space to breathe, while still technically staying within bounds."

He blinked owlishly at you before tilting his head in thought. It was quite obvious there were two sides warring in him, but yours must have won out when he nodded and moved to get up. He followed obediently behind you as you led him to the closest window. Giving a quick look around to make sure no one was looking your way, you lifted the curtain a bit and gestured to him to go through. Technically speaking, you didn't actually know if you were allowed out here.

Iruma didn't need to know that. 

Moving to go behind the curtain yourself, you gave one more cursory glance before following him outside. The second you were outside, you couldn't help but take a deep breath of the cool air. You hadn't even realized how stuffy the room was until you made it out into an open area and were enjoying the light breeze blowing through. Opening the eyes you hadn't even realized you had closed, you made your way to where Iruma was leaning against the railing, still looking as downcast as before.

"Will you tell me what's on your mind?"

"I'm just thinking. About what Fenrir-san said. That humans didn't belong here. It made me wonder if I don't belong and-"

At Iruma's clearly lost face, as he suddenly stopped talking, you amended what you thought earlier. You weren't going to kill Fenrir. You were going to absolutely slaughter him.

"Iruma, honey, you, if anyone, belong here the most." He gave you a look, which you returned, before breaking into a small smile. "I'm being serious here. Yes, we're humans, but so what? We might be an invasive species by many people's standards, and it's true they can do a lot of harm."

You gave him an encouraging smile before continuing, "Sometimes those invasive species can do a lot of good too. You've already taken Babyls by storm. Done things that others thought were impossible, and they were good things. You brought together the misfit class, took back the Royal One classroom, and created things no one else has seen here. It was all you that did that." Seeing him open his mouth, likely in protest, you ploughed right on. "And before you argue, yes, I know you had help. But do you think Rome was built by a single person? Or that it was the Emperor alone who ruled Japan? They all had help, and they did great things with that help, as you will do too." You paused for a moment to take a breath before you went on a rant. "Look, what I'm getting at is that both here, and in the human world, there will always be people who hate you for things out of your control. You know what we do to those people, though?"

He shook his head, confusion clearly written on his face. You gave him a sharp tooth grin in response to his look, "We steam roll right over them and prove them wrong. Fenrir said humans don't belong. Prove him wrong by not just surviving, but thriving here. Keep working your way through those ranks until you feel good enough to look him in his face, smile and say 'You're wrong, I do belong here' before walking away from him. Some call it spite, I call it a purpose. Either way, it works." You carefully grabbed his shoulders and looked him in the eyes through his mask, "I know it's harder to do than say, but always remember that I along with Sullivan, Opera and all the others will always be here for you. Whenever you stumble or fall, we will pick you back up till you can walk on your own again. OK?"

He gave you a bright but watery smile and nodded.

"OK. Now let's get back in there and show them just how much we belong here." Iruma nodded again before rushing to give you a tight hug, burrowing his face into your chest. You wrapped your arms around him and squeezed tightly before letting him go and gently ushering him towards the door again.

"Alright, let's do this."

Unbeknown to you, there was a new faction formed that day. Demons naturally flocked to those that held power, and someone who could take down another demon so effortlessly and without magic meant they were extremely powerful.

‘If Sullivan was still insistent on not taking the throne, then perhaps his child could take it in his place,’ they thought.

You had quite a few words for them when you found out. Especially when you found out it was Fenrir who was spearheading it.