#Mizora x reader

[iamtheholyghost]

Can someone write a filthy fic involving Mizora and F!Vampire!tav/reader please? like I need it so bad.

Her sarcastic dry comments about how reader being a vampire is nothing compared to her being a cambion but really, she's super into it and wants you both to indulge 👀👀

[uselessbard1031]

Messed around and made Carmilla Kane from my Mizora X OC fic 'Demons & Devils'

[sorcerous-caress]

XXX | Mizora

[Smut, blasphemy, inspired by hellfire, Nb!reader]

You've been finding different wrapped gifts addressed to you throughout the day, explicit portraits of a certain devil who is waiting for you to finally make your way home, and unwrapp the main present on your bed.

Or

A love letter to Mizora.

You feel her, you see her.

Her lips on you, her tongue in you. Her claws dragging down your back, feeling her breath against your neck. Her hands exploring all you have to offer and then demanding more as she digs deeper into your soul, swirls her fingers against your essence, and what makes you whole.

Memories of her touch flashing through your mind as you tighten your jacket around you. The cold air carrying the falling snowflakes down, gently setting the on top of your head as you made your way through the snow-covered grounds.

Reminiscing about her warm touch.

How she always looked so mesmerising, never failed to steal your breath away. Her skin glowing a soft amber of a blue flame as she got closer to her release. Sweat glistening on top of her bare body as if they were pearls adorning her and sparkling against the candles' flames.

How no painting or portrait could do her justice. To capture her beauty in a still frame of time was akin to the impossible.

Gifts of several portraits in different shapes and sizes were addressed to you, each on wrapped with a crimson red bow and a gold trim.

The first had a frame so golden it matched the melting candles depicted on the canvas, much like her equally golden jewellery still adorning her head.

Making your eyes trail down her long fine horns until the necklace on her half exposed chest demands your attention, making your eyes follow the line down her stomach until her dress stops revealing her skin to you, until a golden belt hugs her hips.

It's the same dress you've always seen her in, the same jewellery she always had on. Nothing was different, and yet everything felt different. The way she presented herself to you, sitting on those pillows below with her thighs pressed together, gave you a peak through the picture.

Her finger pressed against her lips in a satire of coyness. She knew exactly her effect on you, and she lived for the thrill of pushing your buttons.

Of making you suffer her mockery of innocence.

You taste her, you hear her.

The delicious nectar going down your throat as she grinded against your mouth, the taste of her lips against yours as she made you swallow your own release. Tasting the evidence of your pleasure from her mouth.

Swallowing down your dry throat, you keep the lower part of your face warmed and covered by your scarf as the wind intensifies. The night sky dimming in light as grey clouds gather to veil the stars. You catch a glimpse of the full moon before she too is out of view.

Memories of her moans echo at the back of your mind, her groans, her words for more. An infernal language with a tongue you couldn't speak, a primal raw language that existed long before much of this world did. Spoken right on your bed, through a devil.

The second picture had a wine red frame carved from rubies, weighting heavy on your hands. Mizora was facing away from the painting, instead her proud wings were fully spread and on display, various jewelry and silk ribbons dangled from their sharp ends.

Her tail was curled in the air, playfully wrapping and around one of the trinkets attached to her wings. Lifted up to give you a full view of her backside and exposed thighs, a silk pair of panties covering the tiniest bit of skin possible.

The lovely shape of her ass, the way she shamelessly must have stayed in that position for hours until the painting was done, the fact it was meant for your eyes only. Your reward for being such a good little mortal for her.

You imagined being there, imagined her tail trailing down and wrapping around the string of her underwear. Lifting the flimsy piece of fabric easily or even tearing it apart.

Her invitation for you to come closer, take a bite.

Its colour matched the shade of her eyes.

Like fire.

Hellfire.

You smell her.

Her perfume, smokey with a hint of cherries. It spoke of her, a smell so signature to Mizora that you could never replicate it with anything on the mortal surface. The kind of perfume that lingers on your bed days after she's gone, the kind that fills you with need and want.

Igniting the flame of desire inside you. Lust clouding your brain and glazing over your eyes, all common sense discarded at the door.

This burning desire, turning you to sin.

You're almost home, you could see the candle lights glowing through the windows of your house. Someone else is already inside.

A couple more steps through this cold night until you can discard your thick clothes, until you can fall back into her embrace. Another taste of the forbidden apple of her throat.

The third was framed in white, pure and delicate, untainted white with a lacey finish. The portrait painted her from a ceiling's view as she laid there on the soft lush bed, clad in soft angelic lingerie.

Transparent lace tights hugged her thighs until they disappeared under the frilly skirt with fur lining the bottom. A skirt so short that the simplest breeze could send it flying away.

A loose airy satin top barely covered her breasts, the white beautifully matching the blues of her skin, the redness of her hair. The deep dark black abyss of her eyes with two blazing firey circles in the middle.

For a moment, if you could overlook the horns and flesh wings, you might have thought she was the closest to an angel you've ever seen.

Withholding all the sin from this world from you, making you kneel in front of her alter for the chance for redemption.

It's the devil who set this flame

Stepping through the door, you're greeted by a trail of red and white petals leading back into your bedroom. Her perfume is in the air.

And just like Eve before you, snakes of temptation curl around your throat.

Leading you to that door where you knew she awaited you on your bed, inside your home, the devil made herself known.

Singing a song, of your lust and love to all of Faerun.

God have mercy on you.

[songofsoma]

deal with a devil

kinktober day 13: mommy kink

pairing: mizora x reader words: 325 rating: explicit

read it on ao3

“Use your words pet,” Mizora purred down at you, a hand brushing through your hair.

You looked up at her from where you knelt on the ground, mouth slightly agape. The devil stood naked before you. A wicked smile curled her dark lips. She knew she had you wrapped around her finger, she always had since she first laid eyes on you.

It had been an easy choice when she offered the contract. Sign it and become hers. All of you would become hers. 

Her hand moved to caress your cheek with her knuckles. You couldn’t help but let your eyes flutter shut at the touch. It was so tender. Such a dichotomy of the woman before you who reeked of the Hells. All of it was intoxicating. Mizora was like a drug to you. 

That tenderness quickly dissipated when she gripped your chin and wrenched her head back, making you gasp and snap your eyes open. Her face twisted into a snarl. 

“I gave you an order,” she snapped. “To use your words.”

“Please,” you gasped, feeling her blunt nails dig into the flesh of your jaw. 

She raised a fiery brow. “Please, what?”

You swallowed hard. “Please, mommy.”

The foulness of her expression softened into a pleased smile. “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Her thumb stroked your bottom lip. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from parting your lips and drawing her thumb into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around it before you began to suck. All the while, Mizora watched in fascination. 

“Such a good girl,” she praised, her voice slightly hoarse. 

Your eyes didn’t leave hers as you slowly bobbed your head before releasing her thumb with a wet pop. It was clear the action was affecting her more than she let on if the wetness dripping down her thighs was any evidence.

“Thank you, mommy.”

Mizora groaned, fingers twisting in your hair. “Truly the best decision I have ever made.”

[iamtheholyghost]

I might write some AU real world headcanons for Mizora x reader. I've had some stupid fun ideas and they make me laugh.

[iamtheholyghost]

I wish there was more Mizora x reader

[sorcerous-caress]

I want to see Mizora cuck Wyll. I mean canonically in the game she can ;) - Shadowheart anon

Mizora cucking Wyll 

[ Smut, Cucking, Cheating, nb!reader ]

At first, she merely observed both of you.

The shy glances, the sweet words, the romantic dances, and proper courting.

She found it endearing, really. As endearing as seeing two baby deers attempt to stand for the first time.

Endearingly disgusting.

Did her pup really jump straight into acting as if the two of you were married after a single dance together? She knew he was desperate, but she didn't realise it was this severe.

You see, she felt bad for you. All of this effort, teasing, and yet you received nothing more than a few quick kisses.

Poor you all frustrated sexually while Wyll remained unaware and oblivious to your basic needs.

She just can't have that, can she? What kind of owner would she be if she didn't pick up after her pup's mistakes.

And Wyll never satisfying you was something she was dead set on correcting.

Maybe she could've whispered a thing or two to him, even guided his hand. But she knows the stubborn boy all too well, he'd think it's another one of her tricks and do the exact opposite.

And on any other normal day it might have been a trick, he was just so very fun to toy with.

But this time she has her eyes set on a much more fun activity that involves you. 

She kept thinking about it for a while, just how would your moans sound like? Would you yell her name between loud obscene moans? Or would you make quiet mewls while biting your lips?

Curiosity was killing her, and Wyll wasn't delivering at all. 

So one night, while her pup was away, probably busy saving kittens from trees or something, she made her way to your tent.

By the hells, you looked even more delicious up close.

How does Wyll not keep you chained to his bed and have his way with you all the time? It would be the first thing she'd do if she was in his place.

But enough about that useless pet.

Mizora made her offer clear to you, using all of her devilish charms and enticing curves to her advantage. Slowly explaining all the things she wanted to do to you, all the fun she planned for the both of you.

If you'd just say yes. A simple verbal contract, and she isn't even asking for your soul or anything in return.

No one has to know, well unless you want them to know. It really doesn't make a difference to her at all. 

All she wants is you in a pretty little collar while she holds the end of the leash. She'd spoil you and take you to the depths of pleasure embodied within each level of the nine hells.

And she has seen the way you look at her. How your eyes linger on the front of her open dress, how you stare at her horns in such awe.

She might even let you touch them, if you beg enough. 

Sit on her lap and show her just how low you're willing to drag your dignity through the mud, how much you're willing to humiliate yourself for her.

Let the big bad mean devil women corrupt you, you poor poor thing. You just couldn't say no to the devil, could you? Of course not. 

So just claim that she manipulated you while grinding against her fingers between your thighs. Claim she tricked you while you lick and suck on her chest, taking it so beautifully into your mouth.

And your contract with her will stay sealed away from all prying eyes. No one else in this plane of existence will know about your agreement to let her have her way with you whenever and wherever she wanted.

No one but the two of you.

Well, at least until the inevitable day where she orders Wyll to come to her for a very urgent matter concerning his contract. It just happened to coincide with the day she had your head buried between her thighs with your hands tied behind your back.